AU taking place during and after the episode "Enemy Below."

Enemy Below

JUNE 26TH, 2002

1330 EST
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

The JAG judges were pretty much always on the same schedule; a lunch recess almost always happened at 1245, 1300 if they were running a little behind. Before she had a baby, Mac didn't really mind if her lunch got pushed forward or back by too much - unless she was really hungry that day, it didn't matter to her.

But now that she had a baby, whenever she was in court she counted on the judges calling a lunch recess at 1245, because she didn't just have to worry about herself eating anymore. She pumped during her lunch break so her four-month-old daughter, Clara, could eat. Her schedule at work hadn't mattered so much before, but now it was very precious.

It was forty-five minutes and twenty seconds after Mac should've started eating her lunch and working on Clara's dinner and Mac was still stuck in court defending a Petty Officer who thought it was a good idea to try and steal a tank after smoking an obscene amount of marjuana.

Her boobs were achy and she couldn't help but tap her heel against the courtroom tile as she tried to listen to the Petty Officer's CO give his testimony. She hadn't realized how loudly she was tapping her foot, or how her irritation was starting to show on her face.

"Colonel Mackenzie," the judge peered down at her through his glasses. "Are we boring you?"

Mac had immediately straightened up, saying "No, sir.'' When what she really wanted to say was Your Honor, do you have any idea how important a schedule is when you're breastfeeding? You're kind of putting me behind.

A little before two, Mac was finally able to retreat back to her office. While she pumped, Mac glowered at her baby seal poster, not because the baby seal had done anything wrong but because she needed something to glower at. When she'd first moved into this office six years ago and hung up that poster, she had no idea she'd one day be using this office as one of the (many) places she pumped and/or nursed, because Clara did visit the office sometimes.

Back then at 29 she hadn't even been sure she wanted kids - she couldn't imagine what that version of herself would say to the woman she saw today. Maybe she would be happy that Mac had finally found the courage with her…history, to settle down, or maybe she would demand to know why she wasn't a General. There was really no telling with younger her. Mac's twenties were filled with the kind of directionless personal goals and unyielding ambition that had taken the first half of her thirties to fix.

She didn't necessarily regret it, but she also didn't miss it.

Now, Mac's life was pretty much the exact opposite. There was very little room for spontaneity with an infant.

Oh, who was she kidding? There was no room for it.

Mac sighed, looking up at the ceiling. She wished Harm was here. She wished he was sitting across from her so she could complain about how stupid her current case was, and what a jackass the judge had been, and then ask him what he thought the 29-year-old version of her would think of her life now.

She knew Harm, if he were here, would listen to every one of her gripes and then answer one of her more absurd hypotheticals with the utmost honesty and thoughtfulness, because he was Harm. Her Harm.

But sadly, her Harm was not in the office, or even the country - something she would also complain to him about if he was here. Now that the ache in her breasts had subsided, Mac was now overcome with worry twisting around in her stomach.

When the assignment to go to the middle of an active war zone in Afghanistan had come through, originally the assignment was going to go to Mac and Bud, but Harm had stepped in immediately, volunteering to take Mac's place. When this had happened a couple of weeks ago, it had resulted in an argument between the two of them, taking place in hushed whispers while Clara was asleep in the next room.

"I don't need you speaking on my behalf, Harm. I was perfectly capable of going!"

"I know you're capable, honey, but what kind of husband would I be if I let my wife and the mother of my child go into an active warzone when I'm also perfectly capable of doing it myself?"

Harm gave her his grin that he always gave her when he knew he was right, and Mac had sighed in defeat. He'd kissed her on the cheek.

"I'll be fine," he told her. "I promise."

"Also I'm not your wife yet."

"I know but I love calling you that."

Harm had met up with Bud on the Henry where he'd been stationed since March, and they had been "in country" for the past five days, which had felt like five years. Her and Harm had been able to call one time when he'd first landed on the Henry, but other than that no contact had transpired between them.

Needless to say, it had been hell.

Only a few weeks, Mac had to remind herself as she re-hooked her bra and buttoned her uniform blouse, that was what the Admiral had promised Harm before he left - only a week or two.

Clara's daycare had a strict pick-up window from 1700 to 1800, so Mac ducked out of the office at 1645 because she wanted to be as punctual as possible for the place who was taking more from her and Harm's paychecks than she thought possible. As much as she loved being a mom, she had no clue daycare would be that expensive.

Seeing Clara did lift Mac's spirits, but she also still missed Harm terribly - it wouldn't be so bad if she also wasn't worried sick about him. This wasn't just any normal investigation out to the Henry or to some other base - there was a real chance Harm could get hurt, and Mac couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

It took Mac twice as long as usual to get to bed, because she was down an extra pair of hands. Harm and Mac were big into "dividing and conquering" when it came to keeping things running smoothly in their household. One of them would get Clara ready for bed while the other cleared the table, did the dishes, etc. But now Mac was down her right hand man, so she was finally to go to bed at a time much later than she was accustomed to.

She gently closed the door to the nursery, leaving it slightly ajar in case the sound of the door latching caused Clara to wake up. It had been more difficult to get her to sleep than usual, but Mac supposed that she could sense her mother was worried about something. Mac had gone through the usual motions - the rocking, the stories, the pacing, the kisses and snuggles, but in the back of her mind she couldn't help but wonder about what Harm was doing right then.

"Guess what? Daddy loves you so much," Mac said to Clara as they sat in the rocking chair together. Clara was still boycotting sleep, instead looking up at Mac with her wide, curious blue eyes. "He misses you so much and can't wait to come home."

Mac had just closed the door to her own bedroom when her cell phone began to ring on her bedside table. For a moment, her heart leapt in excitement. Maybe it was Harm.

But when she picked up her phone and saw it was the Admiral calling her, Mac's heart dropped. He never called this late - never for anything good, that is.

"Hello?" Mac's mouth suddenly felt very dry.

"Colonel -'' there was a small pause on the other end of the line that made Mac feel like she was going to be sick. "I just received a call. There are reports coming in that a JAG officer was injured by a landmine in Afghanistan."

Mac tried to say something - anything, but she couldn't. She made a noise in the back of her throat that resembled choking.

"There are -" Mac had to start over. "There are only two JAG officers in Afghanistan right now, sir? Is that correct?"

Of course it is, Mac wanted to scream at herself, And you know who those two officers are.

"Right, Colonel. That's correct," the Admiral replied. He took a breath. "I don't know if it's Harm or Bud, yet. I'm waiting to hear back."

"How could you not know?" Mac snapped before she could stop herself. "Did they not tell you-"

"I don't know, Colonel," the Admiral replied, but there was no anger in his voice. "I'm just as angry about it as you are."

I doubt that, Mac wanted to say, but didn't. She sighed. She felt tears beginning to spring at the corners of her eyes, panic rising in her chest. "Does Harriet know yet?"

"No, I'm calling her right after you."

Of course he would call in order of rank.

"Sir, will you-"

"I'll call you as soon as I have an update, Mac," the Admiral said. "You have my word."

They hung up soon after, and Mac's next actions were hurried, grabbing her seabag and Clara's diaper bag. She knew she'd just gotten Clara to bed and felt guilty about getting her up, but she knew she couldn't wait this out alone in the dark of her apartment.

She was going to go to Harriet. She didn't know what was going on yet, but she would by the time Mac arrived.

ONE HOUR LATER

Mac spending the night at Harriet's house wasn't something exactly uncommon. It was a habit they'd developed after Bud went off to work on the Henry. Whenever Harm would go TAD for an investigation, the first time being when Clara was only a month old, the two women would often have a 'sleepover' just to keep each other company. It had gotten a little harder to schedule these times since Mac had gone back to JAG, but they still tried to make it work sometimes.

As Mac put her Jeep into park in Harriet's driveway, she wished this time was under better circumstances. She noticed as she unbuckled her seat beat that Harriet had the front porch light on, almost as if she had been expecting Mac to come.

"Hey sweetie, I know, I know, I'm sorry," Mac cooed as she lifted Clara out of her car seat, wincing when she heard the little girl begin to fuss.

Clara hadn't been happy when Mac had gotten her out of bed pretty much as soon as she'd put her down, making Mac feel even worse about the whole situation. She'd cried the whole way down to the car, and had only settled back down again once Mac had been on the road and driving. For some reason the driving always calmed her down, something Harm had discovered early on.

"Guess what?" Mac whispered as she settled a crying Clara into her arms, nudging the door shut with her hip. She was trying her best to sound chipper, despite the fact that she wanted to fall apart herself. "We're going to see Auntie Harriet and AJ? Isn't that so fun?"

It's pretty awful, actually, Mac thought in response.

When Mac rang the doorbell, Harriet answered after mere seconds, something that Mac shouldn't have found surprising - there was no way Harriet would've been able to sleep. She looked like a disaster. Her blonde hair was tousled in a way that indicated she'd been trying to sleep but couldn't, and her eyes were puffy.

Mac wasn't going to judge. She looked like a disaster, too.

"Hi," Harriet said with a sniffle. She looked Mac up and down, her stoic expression threatening to crumple, and Mac felt tears beginning to creep at the corners of her own eyes. She'd miraculously been able to hold it together until this point, partly due to adrenaline and partly so she could make the drive to Arlington safely.

She was a Marine. She was used to dealing with crises, handling things under pressure, But this was completely different.

"Hey," Mac replied. She tried bouncing Clara on her hip in an effort to calm her down - it wasn't working.

"I was about to call you but - just come in," Harriet ushered Mac and Clara inside, immediately holding her hands out for her wailing niece as soon as the door was shut.

"Oh Harriet -"

"Let me take her," Harriet insisted. "I need the distraction."

Mac passed Clara over to Harriet, Harriet gathering the little girl up into her arms and bringing her close to her chest. She gazed at Mac over the top of Clara's head. "You know," she said, her voice shaky. "I love it when you two come to visit, but I really wish this was under better circumstances."

"Me too."

It took a combined effort from Mac and Harriet to get Clara to quiet down. She was now blessedly asleep in the crib Harriet had pulled down from the attic and placed in the guest room specifically for Mac when she stayed.

The noise had of course also woken up AJ, and trying to get him back to sleep had been a little more difficult. Harriet and Mac had tried their best to put on encouraging, calm expressions as they reassured AJ that nothing was wrong and Auntie Mac and Clara were just coming for one of their normal visits and nothing was wrong. The young boy had been skeptical, but had gone back to bed after Harriet had promised to make pancakes in the morning - as if any of them would be able to eat in the morning.

With both children asleep, Mac and Harriet sat in silence in the living room. Harriet was sitting in the center of the couch, Mac was curled up in the recliner, and both of their cell phones were on the coffee table, ready and waiting.

Not much could be said. Either Harm or Bud was hurt - critically so - and they didn't know who. They couldn't wish one of them wasn't hurt without inadvertently expecting the other one would be. Both of them knew, deep down, that it wasn't really like that, but the immediate guilt that would come with saying "I hope Harm's okay" or "I hope Bud's okay," kept both of them silent.

"Oh my god," Mac said suddenly, causing Harriet to jump.

"What?" Harriet asked with wide eyes.

"The beach trip."

Harriet's brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Harm's parents are coming up in two weeks to go to the beach with us," Mac explained hastily. She stood up and grabbed her cell phone. "I need to call and tell them about this -"

"I would wait," Harriet said. "You don't - we don't know anything yet. There's no use worrying them when we barely know anything."

Mac paused, staring down at her phone before sighing and sitting back down in the recliner. She buried her face into her hands, willing herself not to cry again. Harriet was right, but Mac needed someone to break down in front of without feeling bad about it, and Harm's mother seemed like the perfect person. Mac supposed she could call her own mother, but Deanne had recently started working night shifts, and their new relationship was still fragile.

Clara began to cry upstairs, Mac lifting her head from her hands as the faint cries grew louder.

"I can get her," Harriet offered.

Mac shook her head. "She hasn't eaten since before we left my place. She's probably hungry," she headed for the stairs, her phone clutched so tightly in her hand she was fearful she'd break it.

"Let me know if you hear anything."

Harriet nodded grimly. "I will."

Mac nursed Clara until she fell asleep, her small body relaxing against Mac's chest. Alone in the dark guest room with her sleeping daughter, Mac let her imagination run wild. She knew she should probably put Clara down and go back downstairs to be with Harriet, or maybe try and get some sleep herself, but Mac found herself rooted to the spot. She couldn't bring herself to leave Clara, leave the spot she was sitting in.

Harm had escaped near-death experiences before, each time coming out a little battered but okay. Each of those times Mac had worried for him, and some of those times she'd even been with him, but now it was different. The last "close call" Harm had was when he'd crashed into the Atlantic, and that was before. Before they were together, before they had a baby.

Now, everything felt entirely different. Mac felt sick with the dread, not only her own but dread for her daughter. Would Clara be the second Rabb child to grow up never really knowing their father? Was this history repeating itself?

They hadn't told anyone, but her and Harm had finally chosen a date for the wedding. Well, a month and a year. August 2004. Mac knew that an engagement that lasted over two years was long, almost abnormally so, but that was what she had wanted. She didn't want another whirlwind, six month engagement like she had with Mic, or another courthouse elopement like she had with Chris. As soon as Harm had gotten down on one knee she'd known that this was right. This was her happy ending, if those were even a real thing. She'd wanted to take things slow, savor every moment.

It wasn't like how things had been with Chris and Mic, where she'd wanted to get things over with as soon as possible. She wanted to get everything right this time, dreaming up a fairytale wedding she'd never let herself dream up before, but now Mac was wondering if she'd taken too much time. What if she had wasted all of her and Harm's time together chewing her cuticles over flower arrangements and color palettes?

No, don't think that, Mac told herself sternly, He'll be fine…but Bud…

Mac looked down at Clara. Would Harm be able to walk her down the aisle at her own wedding?

Finally able to muster up the courage to un-velcro herself from the chair she was sitting in and her daughter respectively, Mac turned around to grab her phone from the bedside table. It started buzzing as soon as she picked it up, the movement and noise startling Mac into dropping it on the mattress.

"Shit," she scrambled to pick it up. She flicked it open and put it to her ear so quickly that she didn't check who was calling.

"Hello," Mac answered, feeling her heart in her throat. "This is Colonel Mackenzie."

"Sarah."

Just like that, Mac crumpled. She felt her knees land on the carpeted floor and the tears that had been threatening to fall the entire night were finally streaming down. "Oh my God, Harm. Are you okay? What happened -"

"I'm fine," Harm replied, his voice raspy. Mac could tell he'd been crying. "I'm okay, I promise, but Mac - Sarah, it's Bud."

Mac felt her heart was in her throat drop down into the pit of her stomach. She knew that was the case, but hearing it made everything too real. "What happened? Is he okay? Is he alive?"

"He's still in surgery," Harm drew a shaky breath. "It's his leg, it got blown off by a landmine. It's - it's not looking good."

"Oh God," Mac blinked down at the carpet and noticed it was blurry. Whatever relief she felt at Harm being okay was now replaced with the crushing reality of the situation. She could faintly hear Harriet's own phone ringing downstairs.

TWO WEEKS LATER

1130 EST

MACKENZIE-RABB RESIDENCE

GEORGETOWN

The plan was simple. Trish and Frank would be flying into Dulles a little after lunchtime, and Harm would go pick them up while Mac finished packing. Then Trish and Frank would spend the night on Mac's pull out couch in the living room, and the following morning the five of them would make the drive down to Salvo to the cottage Trish had reserved back in January, insisting she wanted to be present for her grandchild's first beach trip.

It was a Friday. Mac and Harm had called out of JAG that day, deciding the extra day of leave was necessary to make sure everything was in order before the trip. Gone were the days were they could have their sea bags packed in an hour and just decide to leave "whenever" - they were traveling with a baby now. The baby in question was still at daycare despite her parents being off, allowing them to be slightly less distracted.

Mac had a feeling she preferred this, though.

"First family vacation," Harm said as he walked into the bathroom. Mac was standing at the counter, packing up some of her makeup. She hadn't snooped, per say, but she'd overheard Harm on the phone at the office the day before, making a reservation at a restaurant for the following Wednesday night. She wanted to look good for their date.

"How are we feeling?" Harm wrapped his arms around Mac's waist, pressing a kiss into her hair. He was dressed in beige shorts with a light blue button down, already prepared for the beach even though they wouldn't be there for another day. Mac couldn't really fault him - she was wearing a denim skirt and green halter top, ready for the sand and waves herself.

"Pretty good," Mac replied, turning around to reach up and give Harm a quick peck on the lips. She looked down at the hospital visitor's tag still on his shirt and frowned. Earlier that morning, after dropping Clara off at daycare, they'd gone to visit Bud.

He still wasn't going well, but he was doing better. Mac had felt guilty about still going on the vacation, a guilt she'd made the mistake of expressing in front of Bud and Harriet that morning.

"Don't worry about us, Mac," Harriet had insisted. "We'll be fine. You two go have your vacation."

"You not going on your vacation isn't going to make my leg grow back, ma'am," Bud had added with a particular bluntness he hadn't had before. It was something everyone was still getting used to, but the mood swings and change of character was something to be expected with a trauma that severe. Mac had seen a lot of it in Bosnia - she had faith Bud would bounce back, but she also knew it would take awhile.

Mac looked up into Harm's blue eyes, the ones he'd given to Clara. Trish was insistent on them getting family pictures, something Harm and Mac hadn't yet done as new parents, and Mac in turn had been insistent that they all wear a shade of blue, so that her two favorite people could have their eyes stand out.

"I'm glad you're okay," she said. It wasn't the first time she'd told Harm that since he'd arrived home, but now Mac felt that she could say it without guilt now that she knew Bud would be okay too.

Harm smiled, removing Mac's hand from his shoulder, placing a kiss in the palm. "I'm glad, too."

The first few nights after Harm had come home had been difficult ones. Neither of them had been able to sleep well, trying to process everything that had happened together. Mac had listened to Harm while he recounted the events, held him when he cried, and Harm had done the same for her as well. It had been rough, but now they were beginning to see the other side of it.

"We're in this together now, Marine," Harm had told her the second night he'd been home. "You don't have to process stuff like this alone anymore.

It had taken Mac thirty-five years, but she had finally gotten the feeling of family.

Had to add some angst to this generally fluffy series! Before I came up for the idea for the Family Ties vignettes, I had an idea to do a sequel to The Case that took place through seasons 8-10 of the show (that's why many of these vignettes take place when Clara is a baby/toddler), and this was one of the storylines I was going to include. Bud losing his leg was a terrible point in the show, but at least he made it out alive. I'm very thankful he didn't fall victim to the "lovable sidekick gets axed" trope that's so common in movies/TV.

Thanks for reading!

-Harper