A/N: I have to apologize for starting yet another story before finishing my others. I'd written out a lot of this a few weeks ago and with this COVID hysteria scrambling my mind, I find I can't focus on writing anything brand new at the moment. I hope that'll change soon. This is a story about that infamous baby deal. You know, that ridiculous deal they dangled in front of us for years and then ruined it completely, utterly. I think I knock Mac up a lot to make up for what they did to her in the show! This will be sad at first and I apologize in advance. Rest assured, however, that I always head for a happy ending.

Warning: I haven't really edited this or spell-checked much as I did it at work, mostly on my phone (clinic has been miserably slow).

Crash

Chapter 1: Prologue

0431 Local

Rabb Residence

Reston, VA

Harm rolled over in bed, automatically reaching for her in the dark of the morning. He was confused when all he grasped was air; it was still early even for her, and she generally didn't leave their bed without a fair amount of cuddling…or something else…

The thought of having her in his arms made him smile and he couldn't stop himself from calling out to her.

She didn't answer, and concerned, Harm sat up in bed and prepared to call her again.

It was then that he remembered where and when he was. He was alone, not with Mac. He lived by himself in the little house that was meant for both of them, while she lived across town in a little studio when she wasn't TAD because she couldn't stand to live where memories assaulted her at every turn. By now, there should have been a smiling, giggling baby, but there wasn't, and there wasn't ever going to be…

Because Mac was gone.

And she wasn't coming back.

An hour later, Harm stepped into his shower, irritated with himself that he was still waking up every morning expecting her to be there. It depressed him, made him surly, and not for the first time, he cursed whatever forces had heaped such misery and grief upon him, upon them. It had nearly broken him, had by all accounts broken them, and it would at least have helped to not awaken to the beautiful fantasy of Mac wrapped around him.

Mac had sworn that she'd never been one to cuddle, but from the first time they were intimate, she would snuggle close while he ran his work-roughened hand over her silken skin. Eventually he'd fall asleep holding her, waking up the next morning to find her draped over him. He was always amused that she claimed to be an insomniac, yet would always slumber deeply when he was there with her. Maybe it was the pregnancy, but he held on to the thought that he'd had something to do with that.

Harm wondered briefly if she was sleeping now; he doubted it, given that the last weeks they were together she was back to tossing and turning, breaking his heart as she cried in her sleep.

While waiting for his coffee to brew, Harm engaged in his daily torture session of "what went wrong." Oh, he knew her "reasons": she hadn't held up her end of the bargain, he should be with someone he truly loved, not someone with whom he'd made a foolhardy deal to have a child together, and he should be with someone who actually wanted to have a baby. After what happened to Meggie, she wasn't willing to risk that pain again.

Harm had his own theories as to why they'd crashed and burned, but they really all boiled down to one thing: he hadn't been able to convince her that he loved her for her and not just because she was pregnant with his baby.

He'd thought she would understand how he felt by the way he'd made love to her, by the way he'd held her, by the way he'd said the words…but instead, she'd stubbornly clung to the idea that he merely thought of her as just one of his closest friends. Maybe the closest, but still just a friend. He'd asked her point blank if she loved him, loved him like a woman should love her husband, and she'd actually seemed surprised and hurt by his question. Of course, she loved him that way, but it wasn't going to be enough. It wasn't ever going to be a enough. She couldn't love enough for the both of them.

He'd tried to plead his case to her a number of times; after all, he loved her in that way too and he didn't understand why she didn't believe him. He'd begged her to stay, asked her to consider that her reaction was surely just out of grief, that they both needed to table such discussions for when they were both thinking clearly, but she'd insisted it was the right thing, the only thing, to do. It was the only thing fair to him.

Well, if it was so fair to him, why was the day she'd had him served with divorce papers the second worst day of his life?

Harm poured his finished coffee into a travel mug and took a sip. He tried to tell himself that the ache in his chest was just the burn from the hot coffee, but the sting in his eyes dispelled that hope.

Thinking about Mac always led him to think about Meghan and the worst day of both their lives, and as he always had Mac on his mind, his lost little girl was always there too.

Meghan O'Hara Rabb…

Meggie…

They'd decided on her name with remarkable ease, somehow knowing even before their twenty-week ultrasound that she was a girl, and as they saw her little legs kick and stretch on the screen, they'd both called her Meggie at the same time. He'd grinned at her and she'd grinned back, and life was beautiful.

Who knew that in three short weeks it would all be torn away from them?

The night after the ultrasound, they'd cuddled up on the bed with the pictures from the scan and gazed lovingly at the image of their daughter. One could already tell she had Mac's nose and Harm remembered telling her that he hoped Meggie would look just like her…

Flashback…

"Hey, Mac, look at this one." Harm handed his wife an image of their baby's profile, still amazed by the fact that he was going to have a daughter.

"I can't believe how much detail these have now," Mac commented as she ran her finger tip over her little girl's face. It was clear she was in awe over the life they'd created as well.

"I think she has your nose, Mac." Mac looked down at the picture again and bit her lip.

"You really think so, Harm?" She was obviously pleased at his observation and she looked so adorable that he just had to lean over and kiss her.

"I do, Mac. And I hope the rest of her looks just like you too."

Mac blushed the sweetest shade of pink. "I thought the deal was she'd have your looks and my brains."

Harm kissed her again and took the picture from her hand. He set it aside with the rest of the the ultrasound printouts and tugged Mac closer, maneuvering her so she straddled his lap. "Mac, sweetheart, I would be the happiest man alive if she had both your looks and brains…but—"

"That could work too," they said together, chuckling as their lips came together in soft kiss. Mac's arms went around his neck and she pressed into him. He felt the subtle firmness of her rounded belly against his own and the way her thighs tightened around his flanks, and he was lost. They made love into the night, and for the first time since this unusual arrangement began he told her he loved her. He could tell with some amount of chagrin that she was a bit stunned, but though she didn't utter the words back to him, her following kiss left no doubt in his mind that she loved him too.

Life couldn't get any better, he was sure of it.

What he didn't know was that it could get a whole lot worse.

And get worse it did…

He would never forget the call from Bethesda telling him that Mac had been in an accident. She'd had an appointment that afternoon and he'd had every intention of going with her, but the admiral had needed him to take over a case for Sturgis. He was immediately thrust into an interview with his new client, only having time to give Mac a brief phone call about it. He'd felt terrible, but Mac had laughed it off and told him there would be other appointments.

Harm had just walked into his office after his interview with quite possibly the dumbest sailor he'd ever spoken to when his cell phone rang…and just like that, Harm was no longer on that case. Mac needed him and he'd surely have to care for his pregnant wife who had gotten a nasty gash on her forehead and a broken arm. The admiral had understood and immediately told Harm to go be a husband; they'd make it work at JAG.

Harm had ended up taking more time off than he'd planned. Mac's head laceration healed rapidly, though she'd always have a scar, and her arm didn't even require surgery, but something else happened that completely destroyed every one of the plans they'd made and plunged them into a crushing grief that surpassed anything either of them had ever known.

Their baby, their precious Meggie, had died.

The doctors couldn't explain it; there did not appear to be any trauma to her tiny body, nor had the placenta been torn away from Mac's uterus, which was the most common reason a baby died after such an accident. Their little girl had just slipped away, leaving her parents devastated and Mac overcome with guilt.

It wasn't as if Mac were responsible for the accident in any way; a drunk driver had plowed into her and then fled the scene. He was caught fairly quickly thanks to the witnesses of the accident, but it was small comfort to the distraught woman who still blamed herself and would soon have to endure labor to bring their silent daughter into the world.

Both Harm and the doctors had told Mac she wasn't to blame but it didn't register with her. She was the one tasked with protecting their daughter, and she'd failed. The doctors had quoted the statistics—a certain percentage of 'fetal demises' after an MVA had no obvious cause, and Harm knew Mac would just assume that her body wasn't strong enough to save Meghan.

Harm knew the exact moment Mac had decided it was over. It was a remarkably temperate day in August, and he'd cajoled her into taking a walk with him. She'd already returned to work, too soon in his opinion, and she was still so pale; he'd thought some sun and fresh air would do her good. She did seem to perk up a bit, but then they'd run into a family with two little girls, and her whole being crumpled in on itself. Harm had quickly turned her around and started for home, but he couldn't stop himself from looking back longingly at the little family. For the rest of the night he'd felt Mac's eyes on him, her expression inscrutable, and he felt a cold dread settle inside his heart.

That evening he knew she wanted to speak to him about something, something that would hurt him, so he did whatever he could to distract her. He'd managed to hold her off until the next morning…

Flashback…

"Harm? We need to talk." She'd met him at the door as he'd come in from his morning run. Ambushed was more accurate, he thought to himself as he tried put her off with excuse of needing a shower. She was having none of it, though, and he finally just nodded and followed her to the kitchen table.

Neither spoke for a moment, and Harm wondered fleetingly if she would chicken out, but luck wasn't with him.

"Harm…I know the doctor said we could try again once everything settled down and I was…was back to normal…but I think…"

"It's okay to wait, Mac…"

"I know, Harm…and I know you would never push me…"

"Of course not, Mac. If you wanna wait a month, six months, a year…"

"Harm—"

That feeling of dread was back, and he knew he didn't want to hear what she had to say next, so he babbled on.

"We can wait as long as you need to. You need to recover from the accident—"

"Harm—"

"And honestly I think it would do us good to just get away for a while, just be us, just—

"Harm!"

"Mac, please…"

Many emotions passed through her eyes: sadness, anger, but mostly guilt. "Harm—"

"Don't, Mac."

"I want—"

"Mac, please, we've been through a lot. Let's just take some time, go to therapy—"

"No."

Irritation coated his fear, and he snapped at her. "Why the hell not?!"

"Because—"

"Maaac," he begged.

"I want a divorce."

And just like that, what was left of his world crumbled beneath him.

He'd immediately told her no, that he wouldn't even consider a divorce. He still loved her, she loved him, so what was the problem?

That's when she told him that she never intended to get pregnant again so he should just let her go. Find someone who wanted to have babies as much as he did. He didn't deserve to have that dream taken from him too.

He did everything he could to convince her that he loved her, always had, baby or not. The baby deal was just an ill-thought out plan made at the spur of the moment to keep her in his life. He was leaving to fly and he'd been just too chicken to outright tell her he loved her.

Mac had countered that he'd barely communicated with her during his time on the Henry, he'd practically thrown her into Mic Brumby's arms after he'd turned her down on that blasted ferry in Sydney, and then he didn't make a move for years. He'd argued back that he'd asked her to marry him, hadn't he?

In tears she'd told him that he'd only asked her because she was pregnant and out of their close friendship. He'd screwed up then; he'd agreed with her, but, like she had on the LHA, she hadn't given him a chance to complete his answer. She'd backed away like she'd been struck and, despite his pleas, she'd shut down, telling him they should take a break from this until they had both cooled off. He'd eventually agreed, and the two of them spent their day on opposite ends of the house. That night, he'd wanted to revisit their divorce discussion, but she told him she wanted to sleep on it first and he'd reluctantly agreed to that too.

The next morning, he woke up alone in bed with a note left on her pillow.

Unbeknownst to him, she'd spent the day before looking online for an apartment, and in a remarkable feat of cyber-realty, she'd scored a furnished studio in a reasonably safe and economical area. He could keep the house and the furniture they'd purchased together. She didn't want any alimony, didn't want any settlement; she just wanted to set him free.

He'd immediately called her cell, but she didn't answer, and when he went to her office one floor up from his, he found she'd called in sick. He'd been embarrassed then, because as her husband, shouldn't he have known she was sick? He'd walked back downstairs, humiliated, and when she returned the next day, she'd told him in no uncertain terms that she would not discuss their problems at work. He'd agreed; no need to air their dirty laundry while they worked on their marriage. At that, she'd looked at him sadly, shook her head, and walked away.

Given that she was still in the same building as she'd merely transferred to the judiciary after they'd married, he still saw her frequently, but he made sure to keep their interactions short and polite. He was trying a new tactic; he wouldn't mention the divorce at all, hoping she'd come to the gradual conclusion that she missed him and wanted to be with him again.

For three weeks, he did this. She'd approached conversations with him warily at first, but eventually she relaxed. She'd even smile at him now and again. Once, during a conversation about Bud's courtroom antics, she'd even chuckled a bit. He began to believe it was only a matter of time before she realized she still wanted to be married to him. He began to let his guard down...

And then, it happened...

A young man in a polo shirt and cargo pants showed up at his office and handed him a thick, white envelope, then told him he'd been served.

After he'd gathered his composure, he'd stormed up to her office and barged in. Thankfully, she'd been alone, though she was obviously startled by his abrupt appearance. It infuriated him, however, that she remained cool as a cucumber as he'd tearfully begged her to take it back, to reconsider and it infuriated him even more when she'd ever so calmly told him he needed to leave her office or she'd call the MP's, but he forced himself to pull it together. He'd swiped a hand over his face to wipe the tears away, then told her he'd never sign the divorce papers before turning and leaving her office, slamming the heavy door behind him.

Now, months later, he still hadn't signed the papers, and Mac had been TAD to Naples for half that time. Harm prayed that time away from Washington would give her some perspective, and then they could discuss this rationally when she returned. He'd refrained from emailing her, unsure if communication with him would be more or less harmful to his case; he relied on Harriet to make sure she was okay. Harriet had assured him she was, though she sounded sad in her emails, and also assured him that she and Bud would continue to look out for her and pray for them.

Harm was comforted by this; he knew Harriet wanted him and Mac to be together though he'd asked her not to bring up their separation when she spoke to his wife. He wanted Mac to have a friend she could speak to without pressure or judgement. Thankfully, Harriet had understood.

Harriet understood a lot of things actually; in fact, she had a unique and tragic understanding of Harm and Mac's loss, and Harm had tried at the beginning to get Mac to talk to Harriet. Harriet and Bud had lost their baby Sarah during delivery, so Harm knew Harriet could offer Mac her unique insight. Mac had adamantly refused, telling him that baby Sarah was a term infant and Meggie was only at twenty-three weeks, so how could she burden Harriet when the Roberts' loss was so much greater?

Harm knew that was ridiculous; they loved their Meggie just as much as Bud and Harriet loved Sarah, and Harriet would never think that her loss was more important than Mac's. Mac wouldn't budge, and though Harm knew his wife didn't truly believe losing their baby was a lesser tragedy, he eventually let it go. Now, he wished he'd pushed harder, but after an ill-fated visit to a grief support group, he hadn't even suggested counseling again until she'd asked him for a divorce, and that too had obviously gone nowhere.

Mac didn't want any help apparently, and it broke Harm's heart.

0802 Local

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

It was a tired Harm that arrived at JAG that morning, feeling the weight of his life pressing down on him even more than usual. Though he tried not to, he couldn't resist a glance into Mac's old office, and he thought with sadness the day he'd stood in there and asked her to go through with the baby deal a year early. He could feel her presence there, could even feel that familiar tingle at the back of his neck, telling her she was close.

Don't be ridiculous, he thought to himself. She's nearly five thousand miles away in Italy!

He shook his head at his foolishness and headed to his own office, only to stop short, in shock.

"Mac!"

His wife's lips curved into that familiar sad smile.

"Hello, Harm."

End Prologue

A/N 2: I didn't realize that Nanci Chamber's character in the season 2 episode "Washington Holiday" was named Meghan O'Hara until after I'd named Harm and Mac's baby. Please be assured that Harm did not name his baby after that murderous Singer-look-a-like!