A/N: Here is Chapter 9. Lord, these two. After, this, it's finally time to bring them into the present and "fix" them. It won't be an easy journey I'm sure, but they'll get there.

Crash

Chapter 9: I Do

1032 Local

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

Harm took another sip of water, gathering his thoughts regarding his proposal to Mac. It really had been surprisingly easy to convince Mac to become his wife, even though he hadn't yet uttered the word 'love' in her presence. He wished he could go back in time and do it all over. He'd take her out to dinner, dancing, and then he'd get down on one knee and tell her he loved her more than life. He wouldn't just show up at her apartment, the ring in the pocket of his jeans. He wouldn't have been wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt in the universe, and she would have been in a little black dress instead of boxers and a tank top. He wouldn't have snapped at her over the phone when she was late getting home. He would have done it all so differently…

Flashback…

Harm checked his watch for the hundredth time, wondering why Mac hadn't yet called. She should have been home a couple of hours ago; after all she was only at Quantico to do a couple of interviews. He would have been worried in any case, but now that she carried his child, that worry was increased one hundred-fold. He had tried her cell three times already, and it had gone directly to voicemail each time.

Where the hell are you, Mac? He tried her cell again.

It was an hour later when Harm left his apartment, intent on driving the route from Mac's apartment to Quantico when his cellphone rang. "Rabb!" he barked.

"Hey, it's me." Mac's tired sounding voice came through the line, but Harm was too angry to hear the exhaustion behind her words. He was also so very relieved, though unfortunately, the hours of worry had taken their toll and he couldn't stop himself from snapping at her.

"Where the hell have you been?" he all but shouted, and when Mac didn't answer right away, he lit into her again. "You were supposed to be home hours ago. What the hell were you doing?"

"What? Harm—"

"I was worried! You didn't call! I called you four times. I left messages! Dammit, Mac! You're pregnant! With my child. I would think I'd at least rate a phone call!"

"Harm, I'm sorry. My phone died. Quantico took longer than expected, and I couldn't get my phone—"

"What, there weren't any phones at there?"

"Harm…"

"Maac," he replied, a sneer in his voice. He knew he was out of control and was being completely unreasonable, but he couldn't seem to stop.

"Look, it's been a rough day. I'll talk to you tomorrow, maybe when you can talk to me without being such an ass. Goodbye, Ha—"

"Mac! You could at least tell me why you were so late!" He was seething now.

"Fine! If you must know, the witness I was sent to interview blew his brains out two seconds before I made it to his office. Happy? I had to stay while they cleaned everything up and then there were many more people to talk to. Happy?"

"Oh, Mac," he whispered into the phone, utterly shocked. She'd gone through all that, and he was being such a bastard to her.

"So, I guess it just slipped my mind to call anyone but the admiral. Now, I'm tired. I don't feel good. I'm going to have to force myself to eat something, but first I need to shower, so, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do, not the least of which involves writing a report on the major who shot his face off. Goodnight, Harm."

"Wait. Mac!"

Her phone slammed down in his ear and Harm hung his head, wondering why he couldn't stop being an asshole.

An hour later, Harm stood in his bedroom, debating on whether or not he should call Mac again. He'd reached for his phone several times already, but he knew she'd never answer him now. What he should do was just go over there, apologize, and hope she'd let him comfort her. He knew how traumatic it was to see something like that, knowing that if she had been there a few seconds earlier, she may have been able to stop a young man from taking his own life. It was late, but he'd bet she wasn't even close to sleeping.

Yes, that is what he should do. Honestly, he should have just gone over to her apartment and waited for her there. He would still have been worried and upset, but he would have been able to see something wrong as soon as she walked through her door. He would have been able to hold her, make sure she ate, and then run her a bath. He'd rub the tension from her shoulders and her delicate neck, then wash her hair for her before tucking her in for the night, and then he'd slide in next to her and draw her close. She wouldn't have to be alone. Neither of them would have to be alone.

Not for the first time, Harm wondered when it was too soon to ask her to marry him. He'd never intended for a baby of theirs to be born before they were married, but of course he'd imagined they would have found out about the pregnancy right away, she wouldn't have gone out to a carrier, and she would have had time to get used to togetherness and pregnancy before he popped the question. He'd be able to make her see how much he loved her, and then he'd ask her to be his wife.

Now, he felt he was on borrowed time. It wouldn't be long, and Mac would start to show. They'd have to inform the admiral, and then figure out who would transfer since they couldn't be married and serve under the same command. He'd like to be engaged to Mac before they broke the news to Admiral Chegwidden and everybody else. So, he'd better do this tonight.

Harm circled back to his bedroom and opened the top drawer of his dresser. There, under his underwear and socks, lay an ancient velvet bag. In it rested two gold rings, one with a princess cut diamond flanked by two rubies, the other a matching wedding band. The engagement ring came from his grandmother, but to make it special for Mac, he'd worked with a jeweler to change the setting and add the rubies. He'd always associated the color red with his Sarah, thus the rubies seemed a perfect compliment to the small but perfect diamond. Harm had then had the jeweler design a matching band, and for almost two years, the two rings had rested in the blue velvet bag in which his grandmother had stored the original ring.

Wow. Two years, he thought, remembering how he'd begun working on the rings after he'd recovered from his dunk in the ocean. They weren't ready before he met up with Mac on the LHA, and after that disastrous meeting, he hadn't let the rings see the light of day.

Perhaps now was the time to change that. Harm opened the bag and tipped the rings into his palm. They glinted in the dim light of his room and with a smile, he slipped them into the front pocket of his jeans. He grabbed his keys and his wallet, and then he was on his way to Mac.

Come on, Mac, Harm thought as he raised his fist to knock. Just let me in. He was startled when the door opened before he'd even made contact with it, and there stood Mac, clad in boxers and a USMC tank top. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, and he knew she'd been crying.

"What do you want, Harm?" He could tell she was trying to be strong, trying to push thoughts of this trying day and their fight behind her, but she wasn't fooling him.

"Mac, honey…" And then she was in his arms, sobbing. He held her tightly, hearing her broken words in between her torrent of tears. She spoke of the shock of the day, her terrible fatigue, and how sick she felt over everything, and through it all he whispered apology after apology into her hair. He stroked her back as her tears soaked the fabric of the almost offensively ugly shirt René had given him after a shoot in Hawaii. It's only redeeming quality was that it was a Hawaiian shirt actually from the Islands, and for the life of him he couldn't understand why his ex-girlfriend felt this was the shirt for him. The background was somewhere between cream and beige, with a bit of grey thrown in. The flowers on it were all one color, an unforgivably grey-green shade that barely stood out from the rest of the shirt, and he wondered why she hadn't just picked the typical gaudy multi-colored top. He supposed she thought it was more "sophisticated."

Harm vowed to never be short on clean laundry again, and he vowed he'd burn this shirt at the first opportunity.

Eventually, Mac calmed, and he gently backed her into her apartment and closed the door. She drew back and he studied her tear-stained face. "Mac, sweetheart, why don't you sit down, and I'll make something for dinner."

Mac immediately shook her head. "I don't think I can eat. I mean, I know I have to for the baby, but I'm afraid I'll just throw it all up. And I'm so, so tired. She leaned back into him, literally shaking with exhaustion. He held her to him for a few moments, then picked her up and set her on the couch. He knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in his.

"Mac, sweetie, let me at least make you some toast with a little peanut butter?" He gazed up at her hopefully until she smiled and nodded, and then he stood, stopping a moment to kiss her cheek. Before he headed into the kitchen, he ran his hand over her hair. "Mac, baby, I am so sorry about tonight."

Mac sniffled and caught his hand. "I know, Harm, and I'm sorry I worried you."

Harm bent again and kissed her brow, and then went to get her food.

A half hour later, after she thankfully ate both slices of the toast he'd made her, Harm looked over to see Mac rubbing her neck. He scooted closer to her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "Here, Mac. Let me." He began to knead the knotted muscles underneath his palms, sliding them up to work on the taut muscles of her neck. She sighed in obvious contentment, and he grinned as he continued his ministrations.

It was in those moments that the rings in his pocket started to burn a hole in it. As he rubbed and stroked and kneaded her soft skin, he knew he couldn't hold back anymore. His hands abruptly dropped from her shoulders.

"Harm?" She shifted so she was looking directly at her.

"Mac, there's something I'd like to talk to you about." Mac's brow furrowed at the serious tone of his voice.

"Okay." She sounded apprehensive, and he hated that he'd made her worry. He smiled with what he hoped was reassurance.

"Mac, it's nothing bad, I promise." Mac slowly nodded, obviously still unconvinced. "I promise, Mac."

"All right, Harm."

"Okay, Mac. Look, you've been my best friend almost since the moment I met you. You've stood by me through the many ups and downs in my life, and I hope you know I would do anything for you. We've gone through a lot together, and now we're having a baby. When I didn't hear from you tonight, I was so worried. I couldn't help but think about life without you, and now that there's a child on the way, I never want that. Mac, I think…Mac? Let's get married."

Mac gasped, and Harm waited, his heart clenching, for her answer. She stared at him in shock, while he started to sweat. This wasn't going as he had planned, although truthfully, he hadn't planned anything. He should just let her off the hook. "Mac, I'm sor—"

"You want to marry me?" She sounded so tentative, so unsure. Harm hastened to change that. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the engagement ring. He held it out to her, and her mouth dropped open. "You-you have a ring?"

Harm's lips curved up into a little smile. "Well, yeah. You can't propose without a ring."

"Ohhh," she breathed. "It-it's so beautiful, Harm. How, when…when did you get this?

Harm certainly wasn't going to tell her he'd had the ring since Mic Brumby had disappeared from her life. It was too embarrassing, so he merely winked at her and said, "I've had it for a while."

"Oh, ah…" She held out her left hand to him, palm down, her fingers extended. Harm reached up and cradled it in his. He held up the ring with his other hand, then poised it at her fingertip.

"May I, Sarah?"

With tears in her eyes, Mac nodded, and Harm slid the ring home.

Present Day…

"So, there you have it, sir. The whole sordid tale of how Mac and I became Mr. and Mrs. Harmon Rabb, Jr. God, I was so happy, but you know? I didn't tell her I loved her until we found out that the baby was a girl. Meggie." His eyes filled with tears and for a moment he couldn't speak. The admiral rested his hand on Harm's shoulder for a moment, then let Harm get himself back together.

"You know the rest, sir. We got married, bought the house, and moved in. Mac just glowed, and I was so happy. Happier than I deserved."

"Son—"

"And then Meggie died and Mac left me, and here I am."

The office was silent for a moment as Harm leaned forward to cover his face with hands that slightly trembled. He could feel AJ's eyes on him as his shoulders started to tremble, and to his great embarrassment, he was once again crying in front of his CO. Eventually, he heard the admiral stand and then he felt the older man's hand on his back.

"Go home, son. Take all the time you need to in here, and then go home." Harm noticed that the admiral's voice sounded suspiciously thick, and with a quiet "yes, sir," Harm did as he was told.

It took Harm a good twenty minutes to feel ready to face the bullpen, and he was glad to see it was uncrowned. He slipped into his office and gathered his things, intending to slip out of the office without detection. His heart lurched when he saw that his wife was back, standing across the bullpen. talking to Harriet. He prayed she wouldn't see him, and as he pushed open the door that led to the hall, he breathed a sigh of relief. Success.

"Harm, wait."

Apparently, luck was never to be with Harmon Rabb, Jr again.

He turned around, tired and defeated, and shook his head.

"No more today, Mac. You can talk at me again tomorrow, but for now, I need a break." He turned back around and left, not acknowledging the soft "Okay, Harm" behind him.

End Chapter 9