A/N: I hate the Mattie storyline, but I had to do something with "A Merry Little Christmas." Mattie was the moment JAG jumped the shark—an unrelated male seeking custody of a minor female child? Seriously? Would you grant custody to Harm? He's a good guy, but seriously…

Seriously.

This got longer than I intended. I half like it, half find it meh. Ah, well. Merry Christmas!

Soundtracks

Track 14: River Joni Mitchell

Fly Away

Mac:

I want out of here. I want to find a way to be free of him. I'd like to just skate away, never to be seen again. I don't want to be crying over him yet again, but here I am.

I've put up a tree, I have Christmas music playing in the background, and I've been wrapping presents for the last hour. I should be happy, joyous, but I'm not, and I haven't been that way for a long time.

His words were cruel at the end, basically telling me I'd only screw up his chances of getting custody of a little girl I only found out about tonight.

I would have helped him, if he'd only stayed and listened, if he'd only understood how much he'd hurt me. I know it's my fault we're like this, but I honestly never thought he could ever treat someone the way he's since treated me.

The radio station that's been playing all Christmas all the time since Thanksgiving comes back from the commercial break and now Judy Garland is singing her most famous Christmas song. I stand up and viciously stab at the power button. It's suddenly quiet in the apartment, until I fill it with the sound of my tears.

A merry little Christmas indeed.

Harm:

I'm seething with anger as I leave her building, furious at her response to me asking her to vouch for me. Wanting guardianship of a child who has no one should be enough to show her how much I care about family. And yet what did she say? That I'm a lousy son? That I only come around when I want something? How dare she.

And how dare she bring "us" into it. There is no us, and she knows why. That crap about me not fighting her…

Well, I guess I didn't, and why would I? She told me never, and I took her at her word.

My fury hasn't abated by the time I reach my car, and I've half a mind to go up and tell her what I think of her. I wonder why I even asked her for this, when she's done little else but screw up my life.

I turn around and stare up at her window. I can see her standing there, the warm glow of her apartment surrounding her. She stands there a moment, and then she covers her face with her hands and even from way down here I can see her shoulders shake as she cries.

Suddenly I wish the ground would swallow me up, or, like that one song, that I had a river I could just skate away on.

Mac:

I'm not sure how long I cry, which is rather amusing since I'm my own timepiece. I'm sad, but I'm angry too, and I'd love to fly over to Harm's place and tell him exactly what I think of him.

Oh, who am I kidding. I love him. I always will, and that's not a good feeling. He's been treating rather poorly, but I don't necessarily blame him. All right, I do. I don't blame him for being aloof with me, and I don't blame him for not wanting to spend time with me, but I do blame him for being downright cruel. After what he said about my alcoholism in court and in the bullpen, I can never look at him in the same way. If he keeps acting like this, I'll have to beg him to stop, to go back to just ignoring me, or, and this is the more likely scenario, I'll have to leave JAG, or at least headquarters.

I wonder what the admiral thinks about our recent behavior. I'm sure he's gone through more aspirin this past year than ever before, and he's probably choosing who he should send to the Aleutians. Me. He has to send me, because there's no way I would let Harm be made to leave here again. No matter how angry he's made me lately, and no matter how hurt I am, I will never allow him to lose something else or more because of me.

After another moment to get myself together, I go about the room, turning off lights and tidying up the living room. I usually leave the tree lights on, but now their twinkling brightness burn me, and I wonder if I'll ever light them again. I'm just not feeling very Christmassy.

Once I'm in bed, I lie there and try to think of a way to help Harm without requiring much contact with him. I truly feel he'd be a wonderful father, and even if a baby with him isn't in my future, I still wouldn't want to deny him that. Maybe if I just show up at the court hearing…

Harm:

I tell Mattie goodbye and hang up the phone. I hope she didn't pick up on any of my distress over the way my evening played out; she didn't say anything, but she's quite intuitive for her age. I just don't want her to worry. She's terrified of ending up in foster care with complete strangers, and that would break my heart too. I'd like to think if I had a daughter, she'd grow up to be like Mattie; actually, Mattie reminds me a lot of Mac.

I wish I hadn't just realized that. Mac mentioned our baby deal tonight, something I've always kept in a warm, beautiful place in my mind. Now, that deal doesn't have a chance to come to fruition, but in Mattie I can see what I missed out in with Mac. That thought suddenly makes me smug. Mac is really the one who's missing out here. If things go my way, I'll have Mattie, and if they don't, I will at least make sure I'm always a part of her life. Mac will have nothing.

That doesn't make as happy as I thought I would.

Nothing about the state of my relationship with Mac makes me happy.

She's hurt me, and I've hurt her back. Several times. In fact, I've been downright cruel. I've made her cry—tonight and probably many other times before.

No wonder she doesn't want to help me. Why would she want someone like me to be responsible for a child?

Not for the first time tonight, I wish I had a river to skate away on, or maybe a Tomcat to fly me away to a place where I'd never hurt her again.

Mac:

I leave the courtroom, knowing I probably screwed up everything for Harm and Mattie when I only hoped to help. I tried so hard, and instead I ruined everything. I can hear Mattie crying now and then Harm calls my name just as I step into the hall. I nearly sprint to the door of the courthouse, needing to get away before Harm can catch up with me. I can't bear his wrath for the second time in a week.

Harm:

I call after Mac as she rushes toward the door, but she ignores me. I don't blame her. She tried so hard to help me and all I want to do is thank her and put her at ease, but I'm sure she thinks I only want to condemn her again. I'd go after her if Mattie wasn't crying in my arms, and I want to be with her as much as I can before they take her away from me.

Mac:

There's a knocking at my door and for a moment I worry it's Webb. I told him I'd meet up with him tonight after the Christmas Eve service, but he always wants more and I'm not willing. In fact, I'm ninety-nine percent sure I'm going to cancel on him. I already called Harriet to tell her I wouldn't be going to the church after all. I don't want to risk a confrontation with Harm.

The knocking starts again, and I chance a look through the peephole.

No.

There's no way I'm answering the door now. Not to Harm. I can't face him. I've already made a pledge to myself to ask Admiral Chegwidden for a transfer once I'm back at work.

"Mac!" I jump at the sound of his muffled voice, holding my breath as I back away.

"I know you're in there! Open the door, pl—"

I cover my ears and run down my hall, feeling sad and pathetic as I slip into my bedroom and close the door behind me. I dive into my bed, praying he leaves me alone.

Harm:

I raise my hand to knock on Mac's door a third and a fourth time. I know she's there; I saw her standing in her window before she pulled the drapes closed, and I'm not sure if I feel sad or angry that she isn't answering. I've already called out to her twice. I'm about to call out a third time when I remember I still have her key on my ring. Provided she hasn't changed her locks or engaged the chain, I should be able to get in.

Of course, I know what I'm doing is wrong as I slip my key in the knob, but when the door opens easily, I find I don't care.

I'm a little shocked when I step into her apartment. The lights are still on, and I can see her tree is half undecorated. All the Christmas lights and pine boughs are gone off the mantle, and the gifts she'd had piled under her tree are stuffed into a black plastic bag. In another bag obviously filled with garbage, there's a poinsettia peeking out of the top. It's the poinsettia my mother sent to each of the senior staff at JAG. It's still fresh and beautiful and it hurts a little that it's been so casually discarded. It feels like she's discarded me too.

And why shouldn't she have discarded me? I haven't been easy to handle, and I've been a rather selfish bastard.

Utterly depressed, I sit down on her couch and put my head in my hands.

Mac:

I wake up slowly, amazed that I slept so long. I cried myself to sleep of course, guilt ridden that I ruined Harm's chances to get custody of Mattie and that I couldn't even face him last night.

With a sigh, I slide out of bed and head into my bathroom to shower. I'm supposed to go over to the Roberts' for Christmas dinner, but I'm thinking of just dropping off my gifts and then going back home. I'll tell them I'm Ill and since I don't feel particularly good right now, I wouldn't exactly be lying. I know I'm not being the brave marine I've always been, but I just can't this Christmas. I'm still reeling from my time in Paraguay and my broken relationship with Harm, and the idea of putting on a brave face for everyone today exhausts me.

Next year…next year it'll be better, I tell myself as I step into the tub. The warm water soothes me a little, preparing me for a morning of undecorating. I started yesterday but when Harm came by, that activity came to an abrupt end.

I shampoo then condition my hair, wondering how long Harm stood outside my door before he gave up and went home.

Harm:

The sound of Mac's shower coming on rouses me from my restless slumber. At some point I fell asleep on her couch, having vowed not to leave until I had a chance to speak to her. I honestly expected her to find me here and try to throw me out, but she must have fallen asleep too.

I sit up slowly, rolling my neck to work out the kinks. It takes all I have not to walk back to her bedroom and wait there, but I'm committed to surviving the day. Instead, I stand up and walk to the window I could see in last night. I pull aside the curtain a little, letting a sliver of sunlight in. It's going to be a beautiful Christmas Day, but only if I can convince Mac that I'm sorry for how I've treated her.

A few more minutes pass by, and then she discovers me.

Mac:

"I'm sorry, Harriet. No, you don't need to…okay, have Bud let me know when he's here and I'll—Harm?! Um, sorry Harriet, it appears I have a visitor. I'll talk to you later. Bye."

I hang up my cordless phone and toss it aside, crossing my arms over my chest as I glare at the interloper in my apartment. "What the hell are you doing here, Harm?"

Harm's mouth opens and closes and as I take in his rumpled uniform. Did he spend the night here?

When it appears Harm can't find his voice, I open my mouth to tell him to leave. Now, of course, he's ready to talk.

"Mac, about yesterday…"

"Look, Harm, I just wanted to help. I didn't mean to make things worse. I'm sorry, but—"

"Mac, no, no."

I keep speaking as if he never opened his mouth. I'm angry that he violated my privacy and my trust, just so he could lay into me. "But you need to leave. You had no right to use my key this way. I understand that you are upset with me, but this is not appropriate and I'm going to have to ask for my key back." I hold out my hand, but instead of pulling out his keys, he sits down on my couch. I'm thinking I may have to bodily remove him. I'm growing more livid by the second. "Harm?"

"Mac, you've got it all wrong. I'm not here to yell at you—"

I let out a bitter chuckle. "Right, Harm. I hate to tell you this, but you lost the right to yell at me when you broke in here."

"I didn't break in, Mac!"

"Fine. You entered my home under false pretenses, and I'll regret 'til my dying day that I forgot to use the chain."

"Mac, I'm sorry. I know I had no right to come in here, but you wouldn't answer the door!"

Suddenly, I'm so tired. I don't want to fight with him. I just want him to leave me alone. "Harm," I say with forced calm. "I didn't answer the door because I didn't want to talk to you. I still don't. This holiday has been bad enough without having to deal with your anger toward me, no matter how much I deserve it."

Harm sits there, shaking his head, and I decide to ignore him. I'll go about taking down the Christmas decorations and after he leaves—he can't stay here forever—I'll have my locks changed. He can have the damn key; it won't work for much longer.

I step over to my tree and start pulling off ornaments. I feel like just throwing them in their storage bin, but instead I dutifully wrap each of the glass baubles. I hear Harm calling to me, but I don't answer. I can tell he's getting more irritated.

I'm wrapping my fifth ornament when he suddenly grabs me from behind and flips me around. The ornament flies from my hand, and I hear it shatter as it hits the floor. Now I'm really pissed.

"Dammit, Harm! Let go of me! Get out! Just get out!" Now I'm even more pissed because I'm crying. I hate crying and in the last eight months I've cried more than I have my entire life.

"Mac. Mac! You don't understand!"

"What's to understand?!" I rip away from him but of course, the force I used creates momentum that's going to throw me straight into my tree. Fortunately (unfortunately?) Harm catches me and I'm pulled against his broad chest.

"Mac, Mac. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being so mean to you the other night and I'm sorry for breaking in here. You didn't ruin anything with Mattie. I just wanted to thank you and tell you I'm sorry. That's it. That's it, Sarah. I swear."

I'm still fighting him as he speaks so it takes me awhile to process what he's saying. He's saying he's sorry? He wants to thank me?

I stop fighting, shocked at what I'm hearing. Harm actually apologizing? I can't help repeating a line I told him once before. "Never apologize. It's a sign of weakness."

I can feel Harm sigh. "No, it isn't, Mac."

Actually, he's right and I know it, but if I accept his apology, I'm going to feel weak.

"Harm, let go of me." That's all I can think of to say. Pretty lame, but I do want him to let go. "Please."

Harm loosens his hold but before he completely let's go, he has a request. "Mac? Can we talk? Please?"

I nod, and then he leads me to the couch. He sits down and pats the seat next to him, but I need some distance. I sit down in the chair across from him and I'm embarrassed when he holds out a Kleenex box to me. I take it with a mumbled 'thanks', dabbing my eyes as he watches me.

"Mac," he finally starts. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me and Mattie yesterday. I tried to thank you, but you left before I could. I'm sorry about that." He stops to take a breath. "I'm sorry about a lot of things."

"So am I, Harm. I'm sorry I hurt your chances with Mattie."

Harm looks confused. "What—what do you mean? Mac, you were wonderful!"

"But you lost!"

"Not because of you, Mac! The odds were against me anyway." He looks away for a moment, and he looks embarrassed. "I'm a single guy seeking custody of an unrelated female child. I mean, would you give me custody?"

"Harm, you'd be a great fa—"

Harm gives me a pointed look.

"Okay, no. No, I wouldn't, but I'm still sorry, Harm."

"I know, Mac, but something good did happen. Mattie…she's already found a great family."

"Who? Someone you know?"

"Someone we both know. Bud and Harriet."

"Bud and Harriet? I didn't know they were taking in foster children."

"They surprised me when I told them what happened. They've actually only started the process, but they talked with the judge and Tom, and I called in a favor with Mary Holland, the agent involved in Dar-Lin's case. As of last night, Mattie is part of the Roberts' family."

"That's wonderful, Harm. I'm very happy for you and Mattie. I'm glad I didn't screw things up for you." I don't realize I've just repeated Harm's angry words from the other night back at him. I spoke matter-of-factly, without any sarcasm, no other meaning behind it. I hope Harm realizes that, but he sighs heavily and looks away.

"Mac, I didn't mean that. I was just upset and frustrated."

"I'm sorry, Harm. I wasn't thinking about that when I said it, I promise. It hurt, though." I raise my chin to look him in the eye, but he can only look at me for a moment before he turns away again.

"And it hurt," I continue, "that you didn't tell me about Mattie."

"I know, Mac."

"Why? The real reason this time, Harm. You know I haven't moved on and of course I'd be interested."

"Mac, I don't really know the whole reason. I guess…I guess part of it was that you weren't in my life when I met Mattie, so I didn't see any reason to bring her up after I came back to JAG."

"I tried to be, Harm. I called—"

"Seventeen times. I know, Mac."

"Why didn't you answer?"

Harm shrugs. "I was hurt."

"So was I, Harm. I was hurt when you told me to go to Webb, hurt when you reminded me of my track record with men, and hurt that you wouldn't tell me why you'd given up so much to save me. The guilt, Harm—it's been crushing. I didn't want to be the reason you lost the navy, not when you regretted it so much. You didn't fight me on us. I was angry when I said never, but when I had some distance, I thought I had at least set you free. I thought we'd still be friends, maybe better friends because "us" wouldn't be hanging over our heads. It hurt that you didn't return my calls and Harm, it hurt that you came over here only because you wanted something. I've missed our friendship so much, and when you came by, I thought you actually wanted to see me."

I swallow hard, embarrassed at what I just revealed. "I guess I sound pretty pathetic."

Harm shakes his head. "No, you don't. I think you sound honest. I guess I should be honest too."

"Harm, you don't have to say anything."

"Yeah, I do." He takes a deep breath. "One: I should have returned your calls. I almost did, but then I'd get angry again. Two: when I saw you kiss Webb, I assumed you wanted to be with him, and I got unreasonably mad and jealous. Three: I don't regret giving up the navy for you. Four: it hurt terribly when you told me 'never', and finally, I, uh, I went to Paraguay because I—Mac, I love you."

I can feel the blood leaving my face. I feel dizzy and nearly sick. He loves me? "Harm?"

"Mac, you don't have to say it back or even say anything. I just thought you deserved an explanation. Honestly, I've kept away from you because it just hurt too much around you, feeling like I do."

"Harm. Harm." I can only say his name. I can barely hear my own voice with the blood rushing in my ears.

"Mac, I'm sorry, for everything. I'd better go. Thank you again." Harm stands and with long strides he rushes toward the door.

"Harm, wait," I say softly, still floored by his revelation. His hand is on my doorknob before my mind finally clears. He cannot just fly away after saying something like that. "Harm, STOP!"

He does.

"Harm, come back here and talk to me. Please."

Harm hesitates, so I go over to him and pull him back to the sofa. This time I do sit down next to him. "You can't just say things like that and walk away, Harm."

"Mac, I can tell I made you uncomfortable. I don't want to make it worse."

I roll my eyes. "Hell yes, I'm uncomfortable, but you were leaving because you were uncomfortable."

"Mac, I hate to break it to you, but I've been uncomfortable since I knocked on your door."

I actually laugh at his comment and after a moment he chuckles too. All too soon, we both sober, knowing we have to deal with the elephant in the room.

Harm:

What have I just done? What did I just say?

I said I loved her. I finally admitted it, and it doesn't feel as bad as I thought it would. It feels worse. I saw all the blood leave her face and she looked rather sick, and all she could do was repeat my name.

She wouldn't let me leave, however, and now we're both sitting on her couch, terribly uncomfortable. I can see Mac worry her bottom lip with her teeth, and I know she's going to tell me she doesn't feel the same. I already know she doesn't, but I don't really want to hear it.

"Harm?" she finally says. "Did you mean it?"

I gulp. "Um, which part?" I know exactly what she's referring to, of course, but I'm stalling.

"The part about loving me?"

I'm sure I'm wearing a deer in the headlights expression, but I still nod. In for a penny, in for a pound. "Yeah, I did Mac."

She merely nods her head while I squirm.

"I love you too, Harm," she finally says.

Now that is not what I expected her to say.

"But," she continues. There's always a but.

"I don't know what to do with that now."

"Oh."

Mac reaches over and takes my hand. "Harm, somewhere through all this we lost our friendship. We've both said things, awful things, and we've hurt each other. I've even thought about transferring—"

"Mac, no. Don't do that. I'll go!"

"No, you won't, Harm. I'd never let you, not after what you gave up for me.

"Harm, I've always loved you. I've wanted a relationship with you, but somehow, whenever we get close to something, one of us pulls away. Why, Harm?"

That's a hard question to answer. There have been so many missteps in our relationship, so much resentment. Our ability to communicate has gotten worse over time. Honestly, it's a wonder we've stayed friends over the years.

I look up to find her tear-filled eyes gazing at me as she shakes her head. "Harm, don't answer that. I already know the answer. It's me. I'm the problem. It's me, Harm."

She's right. She is the problem, but I am too and just as much. I tell her this, but once again, she's shaking her head, trying to take the entirety of blame on herself. That's Mac. She tends to feel responsible for everything, from losing unwinnable cases, to me losing Mattie, to all the world's ills.

"No, Mac. Stop. Stop. We're both responsible for this."

I can tell she wants to fight me on it, but after a few heartbeats, her shoulders slump. "Okay, Harm. When did we start going off the rails?"

I think for a moment, but before I can say anything, Mac jumps in.

"Diane. You didn't tell me about my 'twin'. I knew from what you told me there used to be someone who looked like me, but you never told me I was her duplicate and what she meant to you. For my first two years at JAG, I'd catch you staring at me, and I foolishly began to think you were attracted to me. When I saw Diane's picture, all my hopes came crashing down. It wasn't me you wanted; you wanted her back, and then you lied and tricked me to run off and murder someone. I was utterly thrown."

I feel terrible about all of that. Darkness swirled around me then, but if I'd just let her in…

"Okay, Mac, but just so you know, I stopped seeing Diane when I looked at you long before that disaster."

"All right, Harm. Now you go."

I have to chuckle at that. Apparently, we're going to take turns discussing our grievances, volleying back and forth like a game of tennis. It appears the ball is now in my court.

"Well, I'd have to say when you didn't tell me you were still married."

Mac's face reddens at that. "I know. It was stupid of me to keep that from you, and even stupider that I never divorced him."

"Okay, Mac. Now it's your turn." She doesn't have to think very hard to come up with something.

"When you got your eyes fixed. You didn't say anything, and then you left me to fly—or at least that's how it felt." She gives me a faintly cheeky grin. "You're up, Harm."

"When you didn't tell me about your promotion."

"When you stopped emailing me on the carrier."

"When you took Brumby's ring."

"When you seemed so jealous over him but never made a play for me. And then when you turned me away when Mic left. No, no, Harm. I know that wasn't your fault and you did absolutely the right thing. It just hurt me at an extremely vulnerable time."

"When you left for the Guadalcanal without a word."

"When you came out there and pressured me."

"When you walked away before I could give you my answer. I would have given up René for you, Mac."

Mac's eyes widen and she lets out a little sob. A myriad of emotions flits across her face, from sadness, regret, shock, and something else I don't recognize. "When you didn't tell me about breaking up with her. When you told Sturgis every man I'd ever been with was dead or wished they were. When you didn't tell me about Sergei and Singer."

"When you didn't visit me in the brig. When you ran off to Paraguay when I asked you not to. When you said never."

"When you didn't answer my calls and when you said those things about my addiction in front of everyone. When you didn't tell me about Mattie."

Mac starts crying in earnest now and I pull her into my arms, knowing it's a risk. Fortunately, she easily falls into me, and I hold her as I too shed a few tears. When we eventually calm, she leans away.

"Do you realize, Harm, that we just listed off why we should hate each other and didn't just walk away or come to blows?"

"Wow," I answer. "You're right. I think there's hope for us yet, Mac." I grin down at her, and she smiles…hopefully.

Mac:

Harm and I talk a bit longer before he has to leave to celebrate Christmas with Mattie and the Roberts. He tries to get me to come too, but frankly, I'm exhausted and I'm just not up to it. I feel bad, but I guess I have to do what I have to do. At least Harm can save Bud a trip over here since he was going to pick up the gifts for me. Harm has promised to return this evening this and bring me some leftovers. I told him he didn't have to, but he insisted. I think perhaps he doesn't want too much time to elapse before he sees me again. I don't really either; I don't want to lose our momentum when it comes to communicating, and we have to keep communicating.

I don't want to lose his friendship and finally it seems salvageable. I have to admit that deep down, I still hope we can come together in a different way. I can't imagine being with anyone else, and I can't imagine anyone else fathering my children, but one thing at a time. At least I finally have some hope.

Harm:

Mac hesitantly steps out on the ice and immediately starts to slip. I was shocked when she told me she'd never ice skated before and it took a while for me to convince her to come with me and Mattie. Mattie is actually the one who closed the deal, begging Mac to spend time with us so she could thank her for trying to convince the courts to let her go with me.

Before Mac can go down, Mattie and I each take an arm and hold her steady, and then I take over, leading her around the rink.

"You know, Harm," she whispers. "Two days ago, all I wanted was to skate or fly away from here. I kept thinking of that song by Joni Mitchell about the river. It's not the happiest of Christmas songs, is it."

"No, it isn't. I was actually thinking about that song too. I wanted to fly away so I wouldn't hurt you anymore."

"Oh, Harm…"

We're both serious for a moment, but I decide serious is no way to spend the day after Christmas. I lead her around the rink, and by the end of the afternoon, I've taught her feet to fly. The three of us have had a wonderful time, and as we drive Mattie back to Bud and Harriet's, we vow to make this a yearly tradition.

We only manage to repeat this "tradition" once, however, for when it's time for a third trip to the rink, I'm in London, Mattie's happily and safely back with her father, and Mac is no longer in Washington. She's with me, and in no condition to be skating around. She's pregnant with our first child, boy or girl we don't know, but we're happier than I ever thought we could be.

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