Nagging
a JAG What-If Scenario that absolutely no one asked for, but I decided to write anyway

Chapter One:
Mac's New Reality

NOVEMBER 10TH, 2006f

2230 LOCAL
BRUMBY RESIDENCE
SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA

They could've stayed out later; 2230 wasn't even that late, especially 2230 on a Friday. However, Mic and Mac figured that, after a nice dinner spent savoring the time they rarely got to spend alone these days, they needed to come back to reality and go home. They didn't want to keep the babysitter waiting too long. Even though she would've been fine with that - Mic paid her enough that she probably would've offered to stay the whole night if Mic and Mac needed her to.

Kelly was a very nice girl, but she was not the best babysitter. Other than keep their daughters alive (don't get her wrong - Mac was very grateful for that), Kelly really didn't do much else.

"Soooo….I tried to have them in bed by 7:30 like you guys asked, but they didn't want to go to bed, so I put on a movie. They're asleep now though, don't worry," Kelly had explained to them when they arrived home, giving Mic and Mac an eager smile. "You just have to move them from the sofa to their beds."

"It's okay, Mic and I can put them to bed," Mac said.

"Are you sure?" Kelly asked.

"We're positive," Mac replied quickly, giving her a patient smile as she watched Mic pay Kelly more than Mac would've ever dreamed of getting back when she was a babysitter. If she wasn't afraid of pissing off Kelly's parents, who lived two houses down the street, and breaking the heart of a sixteen-year-old who just needed some extra mall spending money, Mac would've fired her on the spot.

When Mic closed the front door after Kelly, Mac folded her arms across her chest. "Is she really the best babysitter in our neighborhood?"

Mic walked over to Mac and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm doing it as a favor to Scott," he said.

Mac's eyebrows shot up. "Oh," she said. Scott was Kelly's father.

"And it's not like they're wide awake. We just have to put them to bed."

"True."

Mac walked to the kitchen, turning on a light. On the floor was a half-deflated pink balloon, which Mac gently nudged aside with the toe of her heel. Sophia, their eldest daughter, had her fourth birthday party the weekend before. They hadn't quite gotten around to cleaning up the decorations yet, so the entire first floor of the house was littered with pink and purple balloons on the floor, along with tattered pink and purple streamers hanging from each doorway. The cleaning ladies came every other Sunday, so there really wasn't any use in cleaning them up now.

She opened the refrigerator, reaching for a bottle of water.

"Did you have fun tonight?" Mic walked over to Mac, wrapping his arms around her waist. He planted a firm kiss on her neck, burying his nose into her hair. Mac hadn't gotten her hair cut at all since she moved to Sydney other than to get dead ends trimmed, so now her hair reached almost to the small of her back. She wasn't a Marine anymore, so there

"Of course I did," Mac replied with a smile, "Tonight was amazing."

"That's great," Mic rested his chin on her shoulder. "You know, I have a little surprise for you later."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

"I do."

"It better not be a puppy."

Mic laughed. "So Sophia's talked to you about that, too?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, it's not a puppy."

"Thank goodness."

Placing another kiss on her shoulder, Mic untangled himself from around Mac. "I'll give it to you after we get the girls to bed."

"Sounds good to me."

Mic and Mac snuck into the living room, with Mac slipping off her heels so they wouldn't cause any excess noise. Their two daughters, two-year-old Olivia and the newly four-year-old Sophia were both fast asleep on the sofa. It was one of those rare moments where the two of them coexisted quietly, and their parents paused to admire the scene.

"Maybe we should just leave them here," Mic murmured. "You know? Let sleeping toddlers lie."

Mac smirked. "Now that's an idea." They wouldn't be on the sofa if our babysitter had put them to bed.

Mic walked over to the TV, hitting eject on the DVD player. He put the Cinderella disk back in its case. Sophia and Olivia really decided to commit to the experience; they were both wearing sparky, frilly dresses that were usually reserved for playtime and not bedtime.

While they looked adorable, Mac couldn't help but feel a little spiteful. Not towards her daughters, but towards her Kelly. So you couldn't even put them in their pajamas, Kelly? Do you know how much we're paying you to just sit in our house?

"Divide and conquer?" Mic asked with a grin.

Mac smiled. "As always."

Moving around the coffee table to the sofa as quietly as they could, Mic picked up Sophia and Mac grabbed Olivia. With a couple of years of practice under their belt, they were able to scoop them up without causing a stir. With Sophia securely in one arm, Mic reached out and turned out all the lights in their living room (the room was spacious, so there were multiple), whereas Mac just decided to leave her heels where they were and retrieve them later.

Olivia began to squirm in Mac's arms as she started up the stairs, her sparkly princess dress crinkling against Mac's cocktail dress. Mac paused for a moment, waiting until Olivia's cheek settled back against her shoulder before continuing up the stairs. Mic was already at the top of the stairs with Sophia, taking a left to head down the hall to her bedroom. Mic and Mac's bedroom was the only bedroom on the right side of the house, with the exception of the guest room. The left side of the second floor, with the girls' bedrooms, had unofficially/officially been dubbed Sophia and Olivia's side of the house.

Mac walked past Sophia's room to Olivia's. Mic and Mac realized too late that there was really no point in giving the girls separate rooms, despite the fact that they had space in the house for it. Most nights the two of them ended up in the same bed together, whether that meant they both shared Oliva's bed, Sophia's bed, or they got in bed with their parents.

Their rooms even resembled each other, with the only major difference being the wall color; Sophia's room was light pink and Olivia's was light blue.

Walking across the fuzzy yellow carpet, Mac thought about just letting Olivia sleep in the princess dress. There was no way Mac would be able to get her out of it and into her pajamas without waking her up. There was no way the scratchy fabric would be comfortable for her to sleep in. Thankfully Olivia inherited her fathers' ability to be an incredibly heavy sleeper. If Mac worked quickly enough, Olivia would fall right back to sleep with no problem.

When Mac pulled Oliva's butterfly-themed pajama shirt over her head, she met a pair of bleary brown eyes.

"Hey sweetie," Mac said softly. "Let's get you to bed."

"Mummy?"

"Yeah?"

Olivia wrapped her arms around Mac's neck, burying her face into her neck. "I wanna go sleep with sissy." Her words were running together beyond what was normal for toddler speech, and Mac could tell she was already starting to drift off.

"Okay, sleeping beauty," Mac lifted Olivia up, now in her pajamas, back into her arms and stood up.

By the time Mac arrived in Sophia's room with Olivia, Sophia was already tucked in, but still wide awake. This wasn't unusual. Like her mother, Sophia was a light sleeper, and it wasn't uncommon for her to have trouble sleeping at night.

"What are you doing up?" Mac asked as she tucked in Olivia, who was already dead asleep, beside her older sister. "It's bedtime, hon."

Sophia shrugged. "I'm not tired."

You were just asleep ten minutes ago, but alright, Mac thought as she placed a kiss on Olivia's forehead. Sophia watched her as she did this. Feeling her oldest child's gaze on her, Mac looked up.

"Do you want a bedtime story?" she asked hopefully.

Sophia shook her head. "No."

"Alright," Mac walked over to the other side of the bed. She knelt down and kissed Sophia's forehead, double-checking to make sure she was tucked in well enough. "Come get me or Daddy if you need anything, okay?"

"'Kay."

After Mac turned off the bedside lamp, the bedroom was washed in the soft glow of the night light from the corner. Mac took one last look at her girls before softly closing the bedroom door. The hallway was dark, but she'd been living in that house for a little over five years; she knew her way around.

Her and Mic's bedroom was tucked into the back right corner of the second floor. As weird as it sounded, Mac adored that room. The king sized bed was parallel to a big bay window that overlooked the pool and the backyard. There was also a walk-in closet and bathroom that both looked about the size of Mac's entire bedroom back in her Georgetown apartment. It was perfect - picture perfect, like a dollhouse. Everything in the house was.

Sometimes, Mac found it hard to believe that this was her life now.

When Mac walked into the bedroom, the curtains were drawn over the bay windows and the light was on in the walk-in closet. Mac heard Mic rummaging around in there, getting ready for bed. Flipping on a bedside lamp, Mac walked over to her vanity. On it, beside her hair brush and hand mirror, was a photo from her and Mic's wedding. Naturally, the bride and groom were front and center, cheek-to-cheek and beaming. Harriet, the maid of honor, was standing on the other side of Mac and Bud, the best man, was standing beside Mic. The Admiral was standing beside Harriet, and Harm was standing beside Bud. Apparently it wasn't enough for Harm to be buffered from Mac by just one person, he had to be as far away from her as possible without being the one taking the picture.

It would be an exaggeration for Mac to say she hated being married to Mic, and that she wished it hadn't happened. That thought would also be something decidedly cruel - to wish she'd never married Mic would also mean she'd be wishing that Sophia and Olivia didn't exist. Even though they were, from a purely technical standpoint, the only reason Mac had stayed married to Mic this long, Mac wouldn't even dream of imagining her life without them.

If they were Harm's kids, they wouldn't be your same girls, Mac reminded herself as she took her earrings out, They would be completely different - they probably wouldn't even exist.

Most times she didn't think about it, but Mac couldn't help but let the possibility, the what-if, nag at her. What if she hadn't married Mic? What if she had broken things off the night of their engagement party, when she and Harm stood out on the Admiral's porch and confessed their love for each other. Or what if she had done something even more drastic and went for the theatrical approach, dumping Mic at the altar?

Sometimes, Mac let her theories branch off into absurdity. What if Harm had gone off to take his quals the night of the rehearsal dinner like he was supposed-to? What if something terrible had happened? What if his plane had gone down or he'd gotten lost at sea? Yes it would've been terrible, but maybe it would've kept Mac from walking down the aisle. As long as Harm ended up okay, she would've been able to live with it.

Of course, that was all nonsense. None of that had happened. When Harm had first dropped the bomb that he would be missing Mac's rehearsal dinner to renew his quals, they had immediately gotten into an argument about it - as they usually did when the topic of the feelings they had for each other was even remotely broached.

Mac was practically begging him to not go, knowing that she needed him there and there was no way she could go through the wedding without him. In hindsight that should've been a glaring red flag for Mac telling her that Mic wasn't the man she should be marrying, but the thing about hindsight is that it's just that: hindsight.

Harm initially stood his ground, insisting, as he usually did whether he meant to or not, that flying would always come first for him. But then, the more Mac pleaded, the softer his expression got. Suddenly, before Mac could even realize how effective her tactic was, Harm was conceding. He looked at her with those soft blue eyes, said her name in a specific way that no one else could say, and then said, "I'll stay."

"Fine - Mac…I'll stay," were his exact words. He smirked, and for some reason that made Mac want to burst into tears. "You win this time. I'll stay."

Then Mac blinked, and she was a mother of two in a five-year marriage to Mic Brumby living on the opposite side of the world. It was truly crazy how time seemed to fly.

It was easier than she thought, playing the part of the perfect wife. When Mac moved to Sydney two months into her marriage, she thought it would've been impossible. But then she got settled into the house, got used to being Mrs. Sarah Brumby and accepted the fact that Lt. Colonel Sarah Mackenzie was a thing of the past, things got easier.

No one called her 'Mac' here. Mic had introduced her to all of his friends as Sarah, and she had gone along with it. Her old nickname wouldn't have made sense anyway, because Mackenzie was no longer her last name. She tried to explain it to some people, but it became too complicated, so she'd given up.

One time, one of her friends here had laughed when Mac had said she used to be a marine, thinking she was joking. That had stung.

Mic exited the walk-in closet, having changed out of his suit and into an old t-shirt and sweats. Mac looked away from the picture and gazed up at him through the mirror's reflection. She smiled, resting her chin on her upturned palm. "What about that surprise?" she asked.

A perk to being married to Mic is that there was no shortage of gifts. Mac had never been materialistic before, and she still wasn't to some extent, but she was developing a taste for Tiffany blue boxes and the occasional Prada gift box as well. She could be miserable about being a trophy wife in Suburbia all she wanted to, but that only meant she had more of a right to reap its benefits.

"It's right here," Mic walked over to the vanity, pulling open one of the drawers and taking out a jewelry box. Mac recognized the Tiffany blue instantly.

"Oh Mic, you shouldn't have."

What am I saying? Of course you should have.

Mic grinned. "Open it."

It was a simple silver chain with a small square diamond pendant. It had taken Mic a few tries over the years, but by their second anniversary, he had finally figured out that Mac preferred silver jewelry over gold.

This wasn't their anniversary, or really any special occasion other than a Friday date night, but Mic never spared any occasion to show Mac how much he loved her by spending money on her. Mac never asked him, but she could imagine how grateful he was that she'd given up everything for him, and became the exact kind of woman that he'd wanted her to be.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it."

Mac felt Mic's fingers brush against the nape of her neck as he pushed her hair to the side and clasped the necklace around her throat. The pendant fell right below her collarbone, like it had always belonged there. The difference between her tan skin and the silver hardware was stark. Another benefit to this new life Mac lived was that the sun in Australia was fantastic. It was also the beginning of summer, something that she still had trouble wrapping her head around, even after five years. She was already reading emails from Harriet complaining about how cold it was getting while sunbathing by the pools, the girls either taking a nap inside or having a playdate at a neighbors house.

As bittersweet as it was, Mac still kept up with her friends from JAG. Her and Harriet emailed pretty regularly, having more in common than they ever had because they were both mothers. She emailed the Admiral too sometimes, to check up on him and his newfound retirement.

However, it was an unspoken rule between the three of them that they would never talk about Harm. Ever.

Mac knew just enough about him to make the knife in the middle of her chest twist. She knew that he had married Renee, that they had a son and then got divorced. It was just as well that they were no longer talking to each other, because there was no way they would've been able to recognize each other. If Harm showed up at her doorstep tomorrow morning, it would be like her seeing a ghost.

Plus she was fine with being married to Mic. Really, she was. She thought the idea of a White Christmas was overrated, anyway. She would much rather be at the beach.

"What are you thinking about?" Mic asked. Mic wasn't the most observant person, but they had been together for six years, married to each other for five of them. Something Harriet had neglected to tell Mac about marriage was that it was impossible to have a poker face around your spouse.

"Nothing," Mac stood up, turning around to face him. She placed a quick kiss on his lips and walked into the closet. "I just have a little surprise for you too."

"Oh really?"

"Uh-huh," Mac held up her hair and turned around. One thing she missed about her short hair was that it never got caught in dress zippers. The more she thought about it, the more things she missed about her old life, so she rarely ever thought of it.

"Unzip me?"

"Of course."

Mac wasn't lying about the surprise she had, nor was she exaggerating. She was six weeks pregnant. It was the beginning of summer, so their third child would be born in June at the beginning of winter. She thought about telling Mic over dinner, but she had only known for three days herself, so she decided to sit with it for a little bit longer.

"Can I have a hint?" Mic asked, wrapping his arms around Mac's waist, the fabric of his t-shirt brushing against her bare back.

"Ummm…" Mac laughed lightly. "You'll be surprised, that's about all I can tell you without giving it away."

"When are you going to tell me so I can prepare?"

"Tomorrow."

It wasn't like it was a secret Mac could keep forever, and Mic would find out sooner or later.

Mac couldn't sleep that night, partly out of anticipation, but mostly out of the fact that she just had trouble sleeping in general. Mic basically knocked out as soon as his head hit the pillow, but pillow talk had never really been robust between them, so Mac was okay with that. It was a routine at this point, 'married couple sex' having been a joke before it had become a reality. They would fuck, Mic would pull out and then they would spend the next few minutes talking about whatever came up. They would share anecdotes about their day, something that had happened at the firm (Mic was the one to share those) or something funny that had happened with the girls (Mac was the one to share those). Occasionally they would remind each other about important dates or appointments coming up, and discuss where they should go for vacation that year, if this year would be the year they go back to the States. Then the lamp would click off, Mic would go to sleep but Mac more often than not, wouldn't.

The night always made everything considerably harder to bear. That would be when everything would start nagging at her, and Mac wasn't sure how much longer she could take it.

Yeah...Before you guys start throwing tomatoes at me for putting Mic and Mac together, allow me to explain. Do I ship Mic and Mac together? No, absolutely not. I can't think of anyone who would. However, do I get tired of writing Harm and Mac sometimes? Yes. Did I think this was an interesting AU for a story? Also yes. I was thinking about it while rewatching Adrift and it occurred to me that the only reason Mic and Mac didn't get married was because of Harm's accident. If that hadn't happened…well, they probably would've gotten married. Of course there was the possibility that Harm would gallantly object to the wedding or that Mac would pull a Runaway Bride, but I feel like, if we're being realistic, none of those outcomes would occur.

That led me here. I love a good What-If, Butterfly Effect story, and this was what inspired me to write this. I hate making Mac even more miserable, especially since she didn't have that many happy moments on the show, but alas. Blame my muse.

Will her and Harm get their happy ending? That remains to be seen…I also have no clue how long this story is going to be, so some stuff actually remains to be seen. At the moment it's just going to be a handful of chapters, but it might turn into something a little more full-length depending on how I feel the more I work on it. Honestly, this could also just end up being a one shot or a two shot for the time being, until I figure out what else to do with it.

Also, I've been on a roll with uploading stories, haven't I? I promise I haven't just been writing nonstop. As much as I would love to do so, that's impossible. A lot of new these stories are ones that I started working on before my hiatus. For example, this particular one has been sitting in my Google Docs since last February. Every time I go through my documents, I discover something new that I started but never finished. It feels like some weird version of cleaning out my attic.

Thanks for reading!

-Harper