Chapter 5.

"I've been asked that question through the years, you know." Mac chewed thoughtfully on a piece of sourdough bread he'd placed on the island to tame her rumbling stomach.

Harm held a ladle and was using it to stir whatever delightful concoction he was creating in a large pot. "What question?"

"The one about you and me having sex." She rolled her eyes when he snorted and all but ignored her comment in favor of adding a few pinches of salt to the curry. "You can't expect me to believe it's the first time someone has asked you."

"Curry's almost done." He brought the temperature down to a simmer and then turned to retrieve a couple of plates and bowls from the cabinet. "Why does anyone care about what we have or, in our case, haven't done?"

"So someone has asked you before?"

He sighed heavily recalling the members of his squadron and the poignant questions about him and the pretty Marine he'd hugged on deck. Harm denied the accusations but then, just about every person in his life, even his various girlfriends, had assumed. Then there was his mother who asked about Mac each time they spoke - she was likely their biggest supporter.

"Harriet asked once."

"Harriet?" Harm cringed as he wondered if it was ever discussed with Bud. He didn't want to imagine the younger officer uncomfortable around them or fielding questions better left unasked.

"Yep, Harriet… Caroline Imes practically insinuated we'd been doing the horizontal mambo since Russia. I imagine she spread a few rumors." Mac raised a brow as he resumed stirring with a ferocity that made some liquid spill over. Harm cursed and then promptly took a rag to clean the mess. "Seriously, no one has asked you? Not even Jack?"

The woman could be as fierce as a pitbull and much more frightening. It was clear this was not a subject she was willing to let go of and reluctantly he acquiesced. "Of course they have. Keeter liked you, was interested in you too." He'd had a few choice words for his friend as Jack's own interest towards Mac had flourished.

"He's a good guy but not my type."

"Thank God." Harm muttered and then placed the ladle down. "All the women in my life, Annie, Jordan, Renee, Bobbi, they all assumed. But, none of them were crass, just insecure. None of them insinuated what Vukovic had. Damn Mac, not even the boys in my squadron were that nasty. It was disgusting and down right the kind of talk I'd expect from a serial rapist."

"That's harsh."

"But it's true and I don't understand why he has this hatred towards you."

Mac knew why and it had been her doing, her fault. It was at a time when she'd been trying to pick herself up off the ground and battle through the hits her life had taken. She was alone, lonely, barren and easy to manipulate. She's pushed Harm away so many times Mac doubted he even cared anymore and their partnership was all but dissolved.

"The last few months at JAG you'd been away on so many investigations that Cresswell saddled me with him. I thought he was brash but malleable. Trainable. I was wrong." And then Mac saw the way he'd handled Graves and Mayfield, like they were things designed for him to play with. When he was bored, his sights had honed in on her. She was his next game, his next conquest.

There may have been a time when Mac enjoyed Vic's company, a lapse in judgment from a woman who received the attention she so desperately wanted from another. She took the flirting, the innuendo and may have flirted back herself but crossing that line was never once on her mind.

Gregory Vukovic was no Harmon Rabb Jr., those shoes were impossible to fill and the more time passed the more Mac realized how much of a snake in the grass Vic really was. "For a time he reminded me of a younger you."

"Oh please, that's insulting."

"Sorry but, it's true." Mac grabbed the dinnerware as Harm plated and passed the food to her. There was a bed of fluffy white rice drenched by a beautiful chicken curry that made her stomach rumble. "He's nothing like you. You're a good man. Noble, honorable and Vukovic is none of those things."

"You know, I always thought men asked me if we were an item because they were interested in being with you." He opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of beer and dropped into the stool next to hers.

"Same with women. I'm pretty damned sure that Imes was tryna get into your pants and she thought I was her competition." Just like Jordan believed Mac could pluck Harm out of her arms with ease. At one point she was tempted to test the theory but then he returned to a squadron and took part of her heart with him.

"Carolyn?!" He nearly choked on the sip of beer and had to use a napkin to dab what he'd spit out.

Mac grinned. "Oh yeah. She's married now but I wouldn't be surprised if she dropped her hubby to spend a night with you."

"Well, I'm not interested."

She smirked and shook her head. Harm hadn't let go of that grudge, the contempt he held for Carolyn after she'd nearly botched his defense once. "Wow, this is amazing." Mac had taken a bite of the curry and closed her eyes as the flavors hit her tongue. Harm had always been an excellent cook and it appeared that his talents had improved. "Really amazing."

"Better than that Indian place in DC?"

"Oh yeah." She took another bite and sighed contently.

Watching her eat had always been a source of amusement. It mesmerized Harm the way that Mac savored food, lived for it in a way he couldn't really comprehend.

"Better ingredients." In England it was easier to procure some of the spices needed given the diverse array of cuisine. "You have to put the right stuff in the base else it's flavorless." Or maybe it tasted so good because he was trying to impress the Marine.

"Have you talked to anyone from Falls Church?"

Harm shook his head. He hadn't really just a call every few months to Bud and Harriet in effort to make sure his godson was doing well. "Not really. Sturgis was here last month. Vareese was headlining a Jazz festival. Did you know he's considering giving up the Navy to be her stage manager?"

"Is he?" Mac nearly blanched when he mentioned the submariner. As far as she knew the man had kept her secret although, at times, she wished he hadn't. "How is Sturgis?"

"He's happy, really happy. I'm a little jealous of that." The pair seemed positively in love and Harm saw a side of Sturgis that was new. He was more at ease, less judgemental. Maybe a good woman could make you a better man? "Once upon a time I thought Sturgis was interested in you."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No…Actually, yes." He didn't want Sturgis to be with her or fill him with details of romance and love over a woman Harm wanted more than anything. "Sturgis is too uppity for you. Zero in the fun department, at least he was back then."

"You're right about that. Plus the last couple of years at JAG he was a downright ass. Did you make amends?"

"As much as we could." His friendship with Sturgis was yet another relationship that had taken a hit after Paraguay. While Harm knew that the Preacher's son could be difficult, Sturgis had turned spiteful and priggish. "He asked about you."

"Did he?" She bit her lower lip and wondered if the man had opted to disclose her secret. Mac was surprised he hadn't before, especially when his back was against the wall. "In the past he was fond of pointing out our certain tension."

Harm rolled his eyes, "Of course he was. So much for being a good ol' preacher's kid. Sturgis has a habit of loving gossip when he thinks it could negatively impact him."

When he noticed Mac's plate was quickly emptying, Harm came off his stool and served her a little more. "Enough about Sturgis, how's San Diego?"

Dinner was filled with conversations about their respective offices and the staff that created each crew. It was clear that Harm's job was much more annoying and difficult while Mac enjoyed every part of life in San Diego. She thrived as a commanding officer and he hated most of what his job entailed.

At times Harm felt trapped but the harder he worked to overcome that feeling, the deeper the solace. "Mom wants your number. She keeps asking to invite you to dinner."

"That would be nice, I haven't seen her in years."

"She's another one that fueled the rumor mill. I think you're the only woman in my life that she actually liked." He admitted. Harm was pretty damned sure that she hated all of the others including Renee and Annie.

"Would it have been so bad if the rumors were true?" Mac was washing the dishes despite Harm's attempts to take over her burden. Instead, he busied himself with coffee and topped a cheesecake with strawberry preserves.

Immediately he knew what she was asking and his attempts to not delve too deeply too soon evaporated when she stared at him with a look that forced his resolve to crack. "You want to talk about us."

"We should have talked about us years ago."

"You're right." Harm ran a knife through the cheesecake and cut out two slices the larger of which he placed where Mac had been sitting. "We went round in circles. I guess I thought we had more time."

"Did you even want me at all?"

"You know I did."

"No, I didn't." She dead panned. "I'm not a mind reader. You were always preoccupied with something else or someone else or one of your damned obsessions to realize that I had feelings for you. And then we ran out of time."

Her heart began to race and bare a familiar ache that dulled very little in the past two years. Mac felt his eyes on her, the heat of their gaze burned and she wished this conversation would have never happened. There had been plenty of push and pull from the both of them - a true dance that never ended.

"Clocks can be reset and even wound back." His voice was soft and low but the intensity of his words made Mac feel a lancing pain through her heart. "I still want you, Mac. I've wanted you for years."

Harm's voice cracked a little and all of the insecurity he bottled up for years came through a shaky breath. He reached for her, the tips of his fingers tentatively brushed along her forearm and curved over her wrist where he noticed Mac's racing pulse. "Do you want me?"

God help her, she did and Mac knew she always would. The time was right but the setting, the reason for her visit would eventually pull them apart again. "I want to say 'no' but that would be a lie."

"And?"

She pulled wrist out of his grasp right when Harm might have pulled her close and kissed her. He wanted to kiss her, it was evident by the way his eyes focused on her lips. "And this isn't the time. You know that. I have to focus on my job here and your career."

He wasn't disappointed or dejected. If anything Harm was ecstatic it wasn't a definite 'no.' He smiled gently and took a step back to give her a little breathing room. "That wasn't a no."

"It was a 'not now.' Look, I can easily fall into bed with you and have, what I know would be some pretty amazing sex but then what? You're stationed here. I'm on the opposite side of the goddamned World. I won't leave the Corps and you won't give up your commission for me."

"Are you asking me to?" He folded his arms across his chest and gave her his full flyboy smile that dared Mac to test his resolve.

"Harm-"

"Mac, I gave up my comission for you once."

He had but the context seemed a little meaningless. "You expected, as JAG's poster boy, that Chegwidden would let you back with a hero's welcome. Hell, you strutted into the Admiral's office like you got pinned another DCF."

Her accusation was offensive and it turned the flyboy smile into a scowl. "That wasn't enough for you? Didn't know I needed to prove my worthiness to you, Colonel."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Say my rank like I'm the person you hate the most." He relaxed and so did she because nothing good would come of an argument when they would be sharing living space for a few days. "I never thanked you for rescuing me, did I?"

"I didn't do it for a thank you. I did it because no one else would. I knew I could find you, Mac. I knew it had to be me."

"How?"

He shrugged, there was always a connection between them, intrinsically wound and a little confusing. Mac's gift of sight had found him in the middle of a stormy sea and while Harm wasn't as clairvoyant, somehow, he always knew where she was. "I don't know."

"You went off without backup, without a plan. You could have gotten yourself killed because you like to play Superman."

She was right and in the end, it didn't really matter. "No, I'm not Superman. He got the girl. I didn't."

"It was the wrong time. I was too much of an emotional mess and I felt so guilty for dragging you into it. Maybe even a little unworthy of you. By the time I figured out that I pushed you away, it was too late, you were gone."

Part of Paraguay's aftermath had been his fault. He hadn't understood the PTSD that plagued her and let Mac's rejection fuel his anger. "You hurt me. That thing about us never being together felt like a shot through the heart. At the time all I gave a shit about was my feelings. I thought you owed me something and I acted like an ass because of that. I'm sorry."

He'd pushed her away as well, right into the waiting arms of a man that would do her even more damage. Webb had been a rebound, the one other fucked up human that carried the same cross she did. He was also her biggest mistake. "Please don't apologize. I could have said no and I didn't. Paraguay, my..my…whatever you want to call my stint with Clay, those were my mistakes. Therapy made me come to terms with all of that."

"You still see a shrink?"

"Yeah." She nodded slowly. "From time to time. Not as much since I moved to California. The change of scenery helped tremendously."

Or maybe it was him that dragged her down with his constant push and pull. His insecurities manifested in the way he'd treated her and the crass words he said. Even with Clay out of the picture Harm didn't fight when he knew he should have. He walked away. "You look good, better than you have in years. Relaxed… San Diego suits you."

"Yeah, it does." She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand and pushed away the now empty plate of desert. It was still fairly early and yet Mac felt like she could sleep for hours.

"I'm sorry, I'm starting to fade a little."

Harm took the dishes, dropped them in the sink and motioned towards the bedrooms. "It's okay Mac. Get some sleep, you have a big day tomorrow."

"You barely filled me in on Admiral Hollings."

"I'll give you the low down in the morning."

She hesitated for a moment, hoping that a second wind would approach but she knew her body well. No sleep on the flight meant she'd pass out the moment her head hit the pillow. "Okay. Good night then."

"Mac?" He called out to her when she was halfway to the bedroom door. "I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad I'm here too."

He came around the island only to stop several feet away from her. "I never listened to the messages."

"What messages?"

Mac looked genuinely confused and likely had forgotten the weeks she'd spent leaving messages on his machine. Harm often thought about them, having only ever heard the first two after deciding he was much too angry to call her back. "The Seventeen messages you left on my machine after paraguay."

The look of confusion was evident as Mac stared at him. She'd forgotten about the weeks spent trying to get a hold of him when the CIA had taken him in. There had been messages of hurt, of sorrow and one where she'd begged for his forgiveness. It really wasn't surprising that he'd never listened but it did sting a little given that the very last one broke her. "You never heard a single one?"

He shook his head. "Only the first two and I deleted them less than halfway. I never heard the others. I'm sorry, Mac."

"I guess I deserved that. But, it's water under the bridge now, isn't it?" And she didn't wish to rehash those six months that the CIA had taken him away from her. It had been a lonely and dark time in their history with mistakes made on both parts that could never be taken back. "Good night, Harm."

"Do you remember what was in any of those messages?" Harm asked as she began moving towards the spare room again. He thought Mac might have missed a question or was ignoring him until she stopped a few feet away from the door.

The details were fuzzy, of course. Nearly four years had passed and Mac was a different woman from the destructive one she'd after Paraguay. She'd said many things in those messages most of which had been her begging for him to call her back. It was the last call she remembered with clarity; a final message before she decided to let him go. "Yeah. I remember that it took seventeen calls for me to say that I was in love with you."

He didn't stop her when Mac wished him a good night and closed the door to her room. Instead, Harm stood there with an open mouth feeling like the dumbest man on Earth.