A/N: Here's another soundtrack! I know I need to get back to my "long" stories, but right now I just can't seem to write anything for them that isn't subpar…so, here's this. Hope you like!

Soundtracks

Track 6: Leaving on a Jet Plane Peter, Paul, and Mary

Smile for Me

It gets harder and harder to do this. Harder to pull myself from her arms to shower and get dressed in the dark. She tries to make it easier for me by having my uniform pressed and ready, every ribbon perfectly placed, my gold wings shined so well that I swear they cold illuminate an entire block, but it's to no avail. Dressing is easy. Packing my sea bag is easy. Leaving her…that's become nearly impossible and this morning I almost can't do it. I won't be back for another three months; I was lucky to get this leave in the first place, and these three days have passed by with the speed of one of my Tomcats.

My brief homecoming was a surprise for her this time. I wasn't sure I would be able to swing it, so I only told the admiral about my plan. It worried me when he told me to do whatever I had to to get back to her and to let him know if he needed to pull some strings. I was terrified there was something wrong with her, but AJ assured me she was just missing me. He could tell she wasn't sleeping well and knew that she'd been turning down dinner invitations from Bud and Harriet again. She loves the Roberts, but when she would rather I be there with her, she isolates herself more. I don't say that to show my arrogance; it's just something our friends and I all realized early on in this relationship.

She does need to get out more, though. As soon as I get back out to the carrier, I will email her and tell her as much. That will irritate her, no doubt, but I know she'll at least try to be more social.

She shifts in bed as I look down upon her, memorizing the way each lock of hair falls over her cheek and forehead, the way her chest rises and falls as she slumbers. She reaches for my pillow and wraps a slender arm around it. I'm surprised I haven't awakened her with my movements or my staring; I suppose I shouldn't be, though. Since we crossed that line and became lovers, she has slept deeply as long as I'm near and I'm grateful I made it home for these few days. She needs sleep now more than ever.

I give myself five more seconds to drink in the sight of her. She's nude, and the sheets have dropped just enough to show the swell of her breasts. I close my eyes and remember our night, how she took me inside her, her eyes never leaving my face as we made love. She cried afterwards, sad I was leaving. She seemed embarrassed by that; she still doesn't want anyone to see her as weak, I think. I didn't let her turn away from me though she tried. Instead, I held her in my arms as she cried into my chest, shedding a few tears myself.

The five seconds I allowed myself have stretched into at least fifteen. I need to get moving; those jets waiting for me on the carrier won't fly themselves. With one last lingering look, I pull the blankets up higher around her, and then head into the shower.

As the hot water cascades over me, I remember the first time she and I made love in the shower. It was in my tiny apartment the first time she visited me in Pensacola and let's just say we were very enthusiastic in our greetings to each other. For what the main area of the apartment lacked in square footage, it made up with the size of the bath. There was no tub, but the shower was magnificent. I had grumbled once or twice that the builders of the apartment could have used the extra space for the living area, but then she proceeded to show me how wrong I was. I'm blushing even now as I think about it.

Shower now completed, I peek my head around the bathroom door to check on her. She's still asleep much to my relief; I don't want to wake her until I absolutely have to. I finish doing my thing, being as quiet as I can as I shave and brush my teeth before heading out of the bathroom. I stop when I hear her shift in the bed, subconsciously trying to find a more comfortable position. She groans in her sleep, and I wish I had the time to rub her back to work out the soreness that has taken hold in recent weeks. But, alas, as they say, I do not. Pinching the bridge of my nose when I feel the sting of tears, I finally leave her, shutting the bedroom door behind me.

I kind of hate it that she's turned me into such an emotional being. Oh, I can hold it together of course, and when I fly all thoughts not related to that are easily banished from my mind, but after I land…once I'm alone I'll pull out her picture and just stare at it for long minutes. Sometimes I actually do shed a tear, but that's only when I know Tuna won't be barging in on me. Okay, I suppose it's not 'barging in' if he's coming into his own quarters, but after you're caught once…okay, twice, you're more careful. The first time was when I opened the mail to find she'd included the most beautiful picture. I told him it was 'allergies' but he just looked at me knowingly and clapped a hand on my shoulder before he made up an excuse to leave. I know he wanted to give me some privacy and I was grateful for it.

The second time was about a month ago. She'd sent me another set of pictures, one utterly glowing view of her, and then a couple more smaller pictures that had the tears flowing in earnest. Tuna came in at that moment, looking at me a moment before mildly asking, "Allergies?" He could see the pictures I held in my hands. I nodded, then handed two of them to him. The one of her I tucked into my drawer and soon it would find a place in my Tomcat. Tuna smiled at the first photo, his grin widening when he saw the second. "Wow!" he said, his eyebrows rising. "You must be really proud." I chuckled even as I blushed, taking the photos back from him and sliding them into my drawer as well. I couldn't help puffing out my chest a little though as I told him that yes, I was.

Tuna laughed and then told me to get off my ass so we could go celebrate. I probably shouldn't be embarrassed anymore when Tuna catches me in a 'moment'; he does know exactly what I'm feeling.

The coffee's done when I get to the kitchen and I'm once again thankful she insisted on a coffeemaker with a timer function. Once I finish with mine, I'll reset the timer after preparing her marine-strength decalf version, which she's still peeved about, telling me constantly that it's neither 'marine-strength' nor 'coffee.' Well, too bad, sweetie—doctor's orders.

Of course, thinking about her preference in coffee makes me think of her and how I'll be leaving her in twenty minutes or so. For a moment I feel like I'm choking, my mind screaming, I can't do this! But I have to. Duty calls, and all that. At least this time when my time on the Henry is done, I'll be coming back Pax River instead of Pensacola. And, though she doesn't know it yet, I won't be going back out again. I've found something I love more than flying, and as soon as Admiral Chegwidden can swing it, I'll be working as a lawyer for the navy once again.

Part of me wishes I'd never gone back to a fighter squadron, but I know it was something I had to do. I enjoyed it, I'll miss it a little bit, but I'm ready to move on from that chapter in my life. This time at least I'm ending it on my terms; it was never my choice to leave the first time and that ate at me. I'm finally at peace with it all, and I'm so grateful AJ is welcoming me back with open arms. I've missed being a lawyer, more than I ever thought I would, and that's separate from missing her.

Missing her…I've missed her so much words can't even define it. I don't know if it's better or worse that we didn't come together until just before I left to fly. We had my send off at McMurphy's and she walked out with me when it was time to go. I left earlier than everyone else as I had to fly out early in the morning, and she told me she was ready to leave as well. I was in the process of walking her to my car when she stopped suddenly. I looked down at her, the question in my eyes and she shook her head.

"I don't want to say good-bye," she said plaintively, tears filling those chocolate-amber orbs. One slipped down her cheek and I brushed it aside with my thumb.

"Neither do I," I answered her, and it wasn't just words. I was going to miss her and it had just hit me how much.

"I want to ask you to stay, but I won't. I know you have to do this and I'm sorry about before." She had been upset when I'd first told her my plans, surprisingly so, and it hurt. I found I wanted her support more than anyone else's, and when I didn't get it…

Eventually she grew more accepting and we at least weren't leaving on bad terms, but I'd seen how sad she still was about it. I'd wondered at that, but as I thought more on it, I finally admitted to myself I regretted leaving her more than anyone or anything else.

"You were already forgiven a long time ago," I answered, and she gave me a watery smile.

"Thanks," she whispered, and we continued our trek to her car. I opened the door for her, but pulled her to me in a tight embrace before she could get in.

"I should go," I whispered into her hair after some minutes of just holding her, and I pressed my lips to it. I still didn't let her go, not for another several moments, but eventually we had to pull apart, as loathe as I was to do it. She looked up at me, eyes glowing with unshed tears.

"Hey, you want me to water your plants while you're gone?" She asked in an almost hopeful tone, biting her lower lip in that cute way she does.

"I don't have any plants," I responded, my own tone almost regretful.

"Damn you," she suddenly whispered, looking away from me. "I know we need to say goodbye."

"Yeah."

At that moment she rose up and kissed me gently on my lips. It was a kiss of goodbye but as she started to move away, my lips followed hers, my hand snaking around to her back before I practically yanked her to me. She was stiff for a moment, but soon she had molded herself to me, opening her mouth to welcome my tongue inside. We kissed passionately for several moments, and when we finally came up for air, her head dropped to my shoulder, her hand sliding up to cover my heart. All it took was for her to whisper my name, and I knew. "Come to me," I breathed in her ear, and she simply nodded.

She followed me home that night, and we made love until the early morning hours. When I finally had to leave, I touched her cheek and kissed her, only making it halfway across my living room before it occurred to me she might think I only wanted this to be a one-night stand. I turned and rushed back to her, ignoring the cab honking from below. I knelt down by the bed and told her something I never thought I'd say to another woman.

"I love you."

She looked at me, her eyes wide and almost fearful.

"I love you," I repeated. "And I'm not just saying that because of what we just did. I love you and I don't want this to be the end. Wait for me?" I waited for what seemed like an eternity, wondering if I blew everything, even our friendship. I was about to stand up and run out of there, but then she threw herself into my arms.

"Yes. Yes! I love you too." We kissed again, and now I had to leave if I didn't want to risk missing my flight. I needed to let her go, and as I stood, she gazed up at me, her eyes luminous. "Come back to me."

"I will. I promise." And then I left.

A honk from outside rouses me out of my reverie. My cab is here, and it's time to tell her goodbye. I set my bags onto the front porch and give the driver the universal sign for 'wait'. He nods, and then I'm standing outside our bedroom door. I take a breath and push it open before going over to kneel by the bed to brush a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Mac, honey…I have to go." Her eyes flutter open.

"Bags packed?" she whispers, not yet completely awake.

"Bags are packed and I'm ready to go." That's a lie, and she knows it.

"No, you're not," she says as she raises herself up on her arm, now entirely conscious…and oh so sad.

"No, I'm not," I agree before I lean in and gently kiss her. "I never am anymore."

"It'll be okay," she says, trying to be strong before following her words with a yawn.

"I hate to wake you up. You need the rest," I tell her.

"Yeah, but I'd kill you if you didn't say goodbye," she smiles. "I can still kick your six."

"Oh, I know it," I grin, but then I grow serious. I hear the taxi's horn from outside and I know the cabbie just doesn't want me to miss my flight. His meter's already running, so he's not worried about that. "I gotta leave you."

"I know."

"I don't want to."

"I know that too."

"Well…one more kiss, baby. Then close your eyes and go back to sleep, okay?" She nods, her response ending in another yawn. I give her a lingering kiss. "Sarah," I whisper, resting my forehead against hers.

"Oh, Harm," she sighs then sniffles.

"Take care of yourself. And take care of my son." I slide her covers back and lay my hand on her rounded belly leaning forward to press my lips against it. "I love you, Harmon Jason Rabb the Third," I say before I move back up to Mac, but I keep my hand resting on her stomach. I feel our son kick against my hand. "And I love you, Mac."

I give her one small peck on the lips and stand, reaching down and brushing a thumb across her cheek. It comes back wet and I need to turn away before I too am crying. I have to turn back when I hear her call my name. "Yes, my love?"

"Come back to me."

I give her my special flyboy grin that's meant only for her. "Always. Now, smile for me, okay?" She does, trying not to look so bereft. "Thanks," I tell her, and then I'm gone.

Once the cab is on its way, I lean my head against the seat. I think of all the times I've let Mac down, how I played around with my obsessions and thus played around with her heart. To be fair, I didn't realize that for a long while. I suppose I should stop berating myself for that and start focusing on the here and now and the beautiful future we have ahead of us. I'll come home just in time for our wedding, and as I ride I lift my lift my left hand and study my fourth finger. When I come back, I'll wear her wedding ring and she'll wear mine, and then we'll welcome our son. I smile as I think about it all.

Our son was a bit of a surprise, actually. Mac was on the pill, but of course that isn't always foolproof. I remember how she phoned me a few weeks after a visit when I'd managed to make it home for a week before I went out to sea again. She sounded scared when she called me to tell me I was going to be a father, fearing I'd be upset with her and mad about the baby. She needn't have worried; for one, I had a hand in making this little one too, and two, my shout of elation into the phone nearly deafened her and caused Tuna to almost fall out of his bunk.

It was then that we really started to plan. We bought a house as I didn't want to bring our baby home to my loft, which Mac had moved into when her lease was up. She emailed picture after picture of every room of every house she looked at that she could see herself living in and we finally decided on a four-bedroom fairly close to the admiral. That gives me some measure of comfort; she has someone nearby to call if she needs something, and it's easy for him stop by and check on her. He probably does that more often than she feels is necessary, but someone has to make sure she's not doing too much and since I'm not there…

We're at the airport before I know it, and I pay the cab driver before hefting my bag onto my shoulder. Dulles is teaming with activity even at this time of the morning, and it's a relief to make it through security so I can relax for a moment before it's time to board my flight. I feel my cellphone vibrate in my pocket just as I sit down and I see it's a text from Mac. I smile as I read it.

[I love you, Flyboy. Be safe!] it reads, and I quickly answer her back.

I'm already feeling so lonesome for her and my baby. I've missed so much of her pregnancy, from the discovery of it to the two ultrasounds she's had, and though I'll never get that time back, Mac helps by sending pictures of herself as she grows. I keep one of them in an inner pocket of my flight suit, along with an ultrasound picture of our perfect baby's perfect profile. I'll think of them wherever I go, and everybody knows when we pilots get together for a little R&R and entertainment, I sing every song for her.

My flight is ready to board now, and soon I'll be in the air. My heart, however, will remain here with Mac and I'll only get it back when I'm in her arms again. I only hope my time away passes quickly, and as I recline my seat back, I mentally send her a message.

I love you, my sweet girl.

I hear her answer in my head seconds later. I love you too, Flyboy. Come back to me.

And three months later, I do.

End Track 6