A/N: Next chapter. 'nuff said.

A JAGmas Carol

Chapter 2: In Which We Meet the Ghost of Christmas Past

"Diane?" Harm stared at the woman before him in disbelief. It was definitely his erstwhile love, though this time there was a soft glow around her translucent form. As he gazed upon her in disbelief, the thought came to him that she really didn't look like Mac at all.

"Or she doesn't look like me," the apparition spoke.

"What?"

"I said, 'or she doesn't look like me.'"

"I guess?" Harm was still in just a bit of shock.

"Oh, Rabbit. I got news for you. You're just looking at us through love goggles."

"Well, I, uh, Diane…"

"You love me, I know, but not like you love her."

"What?!"

"You love her, I know. But that's something you're going to have to take up with the Ghost of Christmas Present. I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past. Now, get off that bed, Prince Harming. We're going on a trip through time."

"No, wait…you tell me I love her more than you? Jesus, Diane. I nearly killed a man for you. I would have too, if Mac hadn't…"

"Yeah, you would have, and I'd have never forgiven you. We don't have time for me to go over all the ways you were stupid that night but thank God for Mac. She saved your six and you never thanked her! You didn't even tell her it was her you were kissing afterwards!"

"Because I wasn't kissing her! I was kissing you!" Harm was certain of that. Why would he ever kiss Mac? Not that she wasn't a good kisser…her lips had been so full and soft, so…

"See?" Diane said smugly. "Jeez, H. I've been dead for a while. I definitely wasn't in a kissing condition then. By the way, Harmy, get yourself cremated. It's a lot neater, if you know what I mean."

Harm looked at his former flame askance. "Oh my god, Diane! I can't believe you just said that."

"Believe it. Now, shut up. We gotta go."

Harm felt himself being pulled from the bed, though he desperately tried to hold onto it. His ass hit the floor and even though he was sure he was dreaming or hallucinating, it still hurt like hell. He let a giggling Diane help him up, but he had to admit, feeling her cold ghost hands on him creeped him out.

"Yeah, yeah. It's creepy. But wait 'til I kiss you!" His Academy sweetheart laughed maniacally at that as he shuddered. The woman was still beautiful…but she was also still dead. He was not a necrophiliac.

"Oh, Harmish…of course you aren't. But you are going to have to hold my hand now. It's the only way I can take you through time." She dragged him toward the window and stepped through it. He watched his arm disappear with her and he thought he might vomit, but then he was distracted by something else.

He was naked. Buck naked.

"Um, Di?"

"What?" He could hear her exasperation through the darkened window, the window he was currently elbow deep in.

"I'm, uh…"

"Spit it out, Hammy."

"Nude. I'm nude!"

Diane poked her head through the window and slowly looked him up and down. She smiled lasciviously at him and winked. "You are, and may I say, you're looking very healthy."

"Thanks, but I can't go out like this!"

"Why not? Nudity looks good on you. If you're worried about me, remember, I've seen you naked. Many times. You weren't shy."

"That was different! I wasn't out in public then."

"Well, you won't be now. No one can see us. Now, seriously, shut the hell up so I can get back to being just dead." With that, she yanked him completely through the window, and suddenly he was falling.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" Harm screamed as he fell. He expected to land in a broken heap on ground by his building, but instead he found himself in a strangely familiar place.

"Recognize this place?"

"Of course, I do." And he did, now that he had a chance to look around. The question was, why did Diane take him back here?

"Christmas 1973. You're in the fourth grade. Your teacher, Mrs.—"

"Burke. Mrs. Burke."

"Yes, Mrs. Burke. It's the last day before Christmas vacation, and all the other kids have been picked up. You, however…"

"Right. I got in a fight with Jimmy Greene. They called my mother to pick me up in the classroom because Mrs. Burke wanted to talk to her." His cheeks warmed with shame. He didn't fight often, but when he did, he fought well. Jimmy Greene had left school early with a bloody nose. It was a good thing Jimmy's parents (Jimmy too) were forgiving.

"You are correct. Now, why did you punch Jimmy? Oh, wait…here's your mom, and awwww, look in the corner. It's a little Harmlet."

Sure enough, Harm caught sight of his ten-year-old self, sitting dejectedly in the back of the room. His mother, her hair soft and long, stood talking to Mrs. Burke, an older woman with brown hair and dark-rimmed glasses.

"Mrs. Rabb, Harmon is usually so well-behaved and quiet, but this month, he's been so different."

"I know. It's this month. You see, Harmon's father…"

Harm blocked out the sound of his mother telling his teacher about Harm Sr. being shot down on Christmas Eve. Patricia Rabb had been so upset with him that day, so upset she'd actually cried. That year she didn't even try to make Christmas a happy holiday for him. Harm had spent most of the day in his room, and the next day, she'd put him on a plane to Pennsylvania and his paternal grandmother.

After that, they did the standard Christmas things, but his mother stopped trying so hard to please him, and then three years later, she'd done the unforgivable. She'd met Frank on Christmas Eve, and it wasn't long after she'd had his father declared dead. After that, while he remained the friendly, well-behaved teenager at school, he was a sullen, brooding young man at home. He absolutely refused to celebrate Christmas with his mother and stepfather and never again did traditional Christmas foods touch his tongue.

"I was such a brat back then," Harm commented, and Diane smirked at him.

"You were an asshole."

"Hey!" Harm started to protest, then shook his head. "No, you're right, but how is this supposed to make me like Christmas?"

Diane shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just the tour guide."

"That's helpful. You know, my dad told me I should heed your words."

"He was right, you should. I suppose we wanted to remind you that even your mother tried to make Christmas magical. It was her husband missing, and yet she spent the next four years making things nice for you, you little ingrate."

"Thanks." He rolled his eyes.

"Well, we have another stop, so let's get a move on, Harm 'n' Eggs."

"Oh, great. Another depressing time in young Harmon's life. And hey, what's with all the nicknames? You only ever called me the first two."

"Oh, just trying out a few new ones. I've had plenty of time to think about it."

"Well, stop. Just—just call me one of them, okay?"

"Fine," Diane agreed. "Which one would you prefer?"

"Oh, Rabbit, I guess."

"Great. Okay, Harmalade, take me hand." She held out her cold, ephemeral hand.

"I thought I told you to call me Rabbit," he protested as he grabbed onto her. He grimaced when he felt the odd moist coldness of it.

"Shut up, Harmalade. Off we go!" With that, Diane snapped her fingers, and the world around him disappeared.

"So, where are we now?" Harm asked, their new location still hazy.

Diane waved her hand around and the haze cleared, revealing JAG Headquarters. They were standing in the hall, and in the distance, he could see his younger self walking with a dark-haired beauty.

Mac.

"She's lovely, isn't she?" Diane commented.

"Yes," Harm said absently, unable to take his eyes off his partner. It took Diane blowing her ghostly air into his ear for him to come back to the present…or past. "Ugh, don't do that, Diane!"

"Why not?" she replied impishly. "You used to like it when I did that."

"I did, but it's just a bit different now, don't you think?"

"Of course. You're with Mac now."

"That's not what…I'm not with Mac!"

"Yes, yes, and you're not going to be either if you don't get over your Christmas hang-ups."

"Whatever. So, why are we here?"

"Just to listen."

"Oh."

"Yeah, now shush."

Harm did as he was told, focusing on the image of himself from a year ago and his friend and partner, Sarah MacKenzie. She moved gracefully, even as she had to work to stay next to him. His strides were always long, though he noticed that in the present, he was starting to slow down a little for her.

"So, are you going to the Christmas party?" Past Mac asked Past Harm. Present Harm remembered that day; they'd just finished up in court and he owed her dinner, being the "loser."

Past Harm shook his head. "Nah, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Christmas isn't my thing. My father—"

"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry, Harm, I forgot."

"That's okay, Mac." The two took a few more steps before Harm spoke again. "Are you going?"

"I feel like I have to, but I was hoping you'd be there, so I'd have someone to talk to."

"You'll know everyone there. I'm sure you can find someone to converse with. Besides, it isn't like you can't bring a date."

Present Harm saw Past Mac's eyes darken as she looked away from her Harm. He could see hurt in them and he wondered at it; he didn't think Mac saw him as anything other than a friend, if how she'd reacted to that Australian bastard's attempts to woo her were any indication. For reasons unknown to him, Present Mac seemed to like the fool.

"There really isn't anyone I'd take there as a date."

"Really? What about the lawyer guy…London…Lane…"

"Lowne, Harm. Dalton Lowne. I don't know…I'm not really feeling it."

What? Until Lowne's betrayal and subsequent stalking of her, Harm thought Mac had definitely been feeling "it." Then again…she did say the man's fancy car was not Tomcat…

"I thought you liked him?" Past Harm continued with Past Mac.

"I do…but, I don't know, I'm not sure I like him enough to bring him as my date."

"Oh."

"That's why I was going to ask you to come with me."

"As a date? Mac—"

"Harm, no. Not as a date, but as my friend. A friend whom I like better than this fancy lawyer I just met."

"I see. I'm sorry. I just can't do Christmas."

Past Mac lay her hand on Past Harm's arm. "It's okay. I understand."

"Thanks. So, where am I taking you for dinner?"

Past Mac shook her head. "Actually, I can't tonight. Raincheck?"

"Sure."

With that, the two parted ways, and Present Harm once again saw sadness on his pretty partner's face.

"I should have sucked it up and gone with her," he commented to Diane.

"Hell, yes, you should have," she agreed. "If you had, she never would have dated that clown."

"You mean Lowne?"

"Lowne, clown, potato, patahto. Yes, Lowne. You know, she did end up asking him, and the two had a great time at the party. Look!"

JAG Headquarters faded away to be replaced by a posh hotel ballroom. Across the room, he could see Mac dancing with, sure enough, Dalton Lowne, Esq. She was laughing at something the idiot said, and he laughed back. He then pulled the giggling major to the middle of the dance floor, and the two whirled around, smiles pasted on their happy faces.

Harm felt sick.

"Get me out of here," he demanded.

"Harmalade…"

"I said, get me out of here!"

"But why? You hate Christmas, and you tell me you aren't after Mac. So, what's wrong with staying a while?"

Harm knew this supposed Ghost of Christmas past was goading him just a bit, but that didn't stop him from getting increasingly agitated.

"No. I want to go. Now, dammit!"

"Okay, H. Okay." Diane's cold hand covered his, and suddenly he was back in his bedroom, Diane floating beside him.

"Oh, God…" Harm mumbled.

"What's wrong?"

"If I hadn't…if I'd just gone…she'd never have been with him. He wouldn't have stalked her…she wouldn't have fallen off the wagon, and he wouldn't have died."

"You noticed that, huh?"

"Yeah, I did. But why show me that when you know it will make me hate Christmas even more?"

"Remember what I said. I'm just the tour guide, and my shift is just about over."

"You won't stay for a while?"

"Can't, my sweet Harmalade."

"Why did you always call me that?"

"That's a story for another time."

"But I'm not going to see you again, am I."

Diane reached out and rested her hands on his naked shoulders. They didn't feel as cold this time.

"No," she said, shaking her head.

"I suppose I should be grateful I got to see you now."

"Yeah." Diane smiled sadly. "No sense on dwelling on things we can't change. Now, get into bed and I'll tuck you in."

Harm did as he was told and the increasingly transparent Diane Schonke, aka The Ghost of Christmas Past, pulled the covers up to his shoulders. She bent and kissed him on the forehead, her lips just as warm as they had been in life, and he fell into a deep sleep.

Smiling at her old love, Diane allowed herself to completely fade away.

Harm's deep sleep didn't last, and within fifteen minutes, he was tossing and turning. Eventually his eyes fluttered open, and when he remembered his dream of Diane, they grew wet. "What's with all the dreams tonight?" he muttered, then jumped as another's voice filled the room.

"They're not dreams, Rabb."

"Jesus!" Harm sat up and fumbled to open the drawer of his nightstand. He intended to pull out his side arm and defend himself against this intruder, but just as he had the drawer pulled open a couple of inches, it slammed shut again.

"Knock it off, Rabb. You can't kill me twice."

"Who the hell are—"

The room suddenly brightened, revealing his new visitor.

"Oh. You."

End Chapter 2