A/N: Another update! I know this story has been rather sad. At times it is a bit painful to write, but I do love it. If y'all stay with me, I promise a happy ending. Sorry about any editing errors—frankly I've been sitting on my couch, still in my nightgown, and it's past 8 pm here, and the laziness of the day remains, and it may just last until tomorrow! Happy New Year, everyone. May 2023 be a better year than the last three.

Crash

Chapter 12: Talk With You

0757 Local

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

Present Day…

Harm sat at his desk for just a moment, and then his anger flared. How dare Mac just barge in here like that, accusing him of something about which he had no idea! In a flash he was out of his seat and rushing through the bullpen.

He caught up to her just as she stepped into the elevator, and he dashed inside with her. Before she could say anything, he hit the emergency button and the elevator lurched to a stop.

"What the hell was that all about, Mac?"

"You know what!"

"Clearly, I don't. Goddammit, Mac. I'm just trying to get by here and I don't deserve your anger. I haven't done anything! You, on the other hand…"

Mac stared up at him coldly. "And what have I done, Harm? You've done nothing but be a stubborn asshole! The divorce—"

"Fuck the divorce, Mac. I don't want a divorce and you won't even sit down and talk to me about it. You just served me with papers and expected me to sign them without a fight. Well, fuck that. I'm not going to make this easy for you!"

Harm watched her expression go from cold to furious. "Well, you've made that abundantly clear, Harm. How could you do it?!"

"Do what, Mac?" When Mac didn't immediately answer, Harm threw up his hands. "You know what? Forget it." He hit the emergency button again, and with a little hitch, the elevator continued its upward journey—until Mac reached around him and slammed her hand on the button.

"I'm not going to forget it. Who did you talk to? Admiral Chegwidden? Admiral Morris?"

"Mac, I haven't talked to anyone but the admiral, and if you must know, the only thing I told him was the entire sordid tale of you and me. Nothing else."

Mac reeled back in shock. "You didn't."

"Yeah, I did. Since you won't let me talk to you, since you won't talk about our daughter, I talked to him."

Mac gasped, and before he could say anything else, her hand lashed out, slapping him hard. It stung horribly; she'd held nothing back, and Harm's eyes teared. He had no doubt her handprint was left on his face and he thanked god he didn't have court today. Part of him wanted to slap her back, but that was something he would never actually do. Instead, he looked down at her with scorn.

"Did that make you feel better, Mac?"

"Harm, I didn't mean—"

"Yeah, you did."

"No, Harm. I'm sorry."

Harm waved his arm in the air, dismissing her apology. "Don't be. Didn't you always tell me don't apologize? That it's a sign of weakness? But maybe I'll forgive you if you just tell me what I've supposedly done. And do it quick. I imagine we're almost at your floor." He pushed the button, getting them moving again. Sure enough, only seconds later, the elevator doors slid aside.

"You'd better get moving, Mac, before this elevator goes back down. Unless, of course, you'd like to tell me what I've done that's so bad."

Mac was leaning in the doorway, preventing the elevator from closing. She took a deep breath, and Harm almost stepped back at the ire in her expression. "You had my transfer cancelled."

"What?"

"My transfer. You know Harm, I never thought you could be such a selfish bastard." With that, she stepped into the hallway, the now unhindered elevator doors closing before him.

Harm slowly trudged to his office. He honestly had no idea what had happened regarding Mac's impending transfer back to Naples. The only thing he did know was that he'd had nothing to do with it. He also knew he was terrifically late to the morning staff call so, with his slap-marked face, he made his way to the conference room.

"Dismissed, everyone. Commander Rabb, a moment, please."

"So," Admiral Chegwidden started when everyone else had left the room. "Might I ask where you got that bruise on your cheek?"

Harm shrugged. "I walked into a door, sir."

"A door named Colonel Sarah Rabb?"

Harm swiped a hand over his face. "Yeah. She thinks I somehow had her transfer cancelled."

"I was not aware you were now her commanding officer."

"Neither was I, sir." Harm looked downward for a moment, then met his CO's eyes. "Sir, did you…I mean, do you know what happened?"

"If I told you I didn't, would you believe me?"

"Well, unless you order me to believe you, I don't think I can."

The admiral sighed. "It wasn't my decision, Harm, but that's all I'm at liberty to say."

Harm bit back an annoyed retort and settled for a simple 'okay.'

"You're dismissed, Commander," Admiral Chegwidden said abruptly, but then he was the one to leave, leaving Harm alone to gather his thoughts.

"Enter," Mac called, and Harm stepped into her office. He was surprised she'd actually allowed him in, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Can we talk?" he asked quietly, both pleased and apprehensive when she nodded. He stood there awkwardly before she finally motioned him to a chair, and as he sat down, she folded her hands and rested them on her desk.

"First, I want you to know I had absolutely nothing to do with your transfer being canceled."

"Then who—"

"Mac, I have no idea, but it was not me, okay? Okay, Mac?"

Mac took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak. He fully expected her to accuse him again, but after a brief hesitation, she finally seemed to accept the veracity of his claim. "Okay."

Harm gave a short nod and then continued. "I didn't deserve what you said to me, and I didn't deserve to be hit."

Mac looked down in shame. "I know."

"Do you?"

"Yes, and if you want to have charges drawn up, I'll understand."

Harm rolled his eyes. "Mac, I'm not going to do that. You're my wife and I love you—"

"Harm, please don't."

"No, Mac. I deserve to be heard too. I love you, and that isn't going to change just because you want it to."

"I know."

Harm watched her bite her lip and turn away from him, but not before he saw the suspicious sheen in her eyes.

"Mac," he said tenderly. "Why do you want this divorce so badly?"

"Harm, I…I can't talk about—"

"You mean you won't. Dammit, Mac. You owe me that much. I can't understand how you can say you love me and hear me say I love you and still want this."

"I know, Harm." She swiped at her tears with the back of her hand. "But I can't do this right now. I—I have court in twenty minutes and I need time to…" She motioned at her face. Her mascara had run the tiniest bit and Harm felt a twinge of guilt.

"Oh. Okay, Mac, but this isn't over."

"I know."

"Good. I'll get out of your hair then."

He turned and walked through the door.

Harm had every intention to talk to Mac again before the end of the day, but unfortunately, he was sent out to a carrier for almost a week. When he returned, Mac did everything she could to avoid him. She wouldn't return his calls, she wouldn't let him into her office, and she wouldn't let him into her apartment. In the month since she'd returned, beyond their first interactions, he had only seen her in the halls when he had court. She would acknowledge him, but she wouldn't stop to chat. He knew from others' observations that she mostly stayed in her office unless needed elsewhere. The only upside of this was he hadn't heard anything more about the divorce.

He finally had a chance to see her and speak to her at a gala they'd all been ordered to attend. She was beautiful in her dark blue gown, and it reminded him of the one she wore on their mission at the Sudanese embassy. He waited until she was standing alone by a column in the posh banquet room, sipping her tonic with lime, then slipped up behind her.

"Hello, Mac."

Mac was obviously startled, and he immediately apologized. She only nodded, then turned her focus back to the room. Harm wasn't going to let her ignore him, however.

"Mac, aren't you going to say hello?"

Mac let out a huff of air. "Hello, Harm."

"You look nice tonight."

"Thank you. You, um…you too. I've always liked you in the mess dress."

"So, you still like me?"

"Harm," she sighed. "Of course I still like you."

Harm grinned.

"I knew it." He stepped around Mac to stand in front of her, blocking her view of the room. He sounded utterly confident, but inside he was tense and anxious, knowing he was taking a risk here. She could walk away from him anytime, and he knew he couldn't chase after her without making a scene. Still…in for a penny, in for a pound…

Harm reached out and caressed his wife's cheek. "You're beautiful, Mac."

She took a step back. "Harm, don't."

"Mac, I'm just telling you the truth. I'm not here to talk about us. I just wanted to say hello and to give you a much-deserved compliment." Of course, that wasn't entirely true, but he honestly had no intention of bringing up their problems in such a public place.

Mac hesitated, but then finally nodded. "Okay, Harm. Thank you."

Harm stepped aside a bit and turned so he could observe the room as well. Various couples were on the dance floor, including Bud and Harriet, so Harm took a chance.

"Dance with me, Mac?" he asked, fully expecting her to refuse, but she surprised him when she held out her hand. She handed off her glass to a passing server as he led her to the dance floor, and soon he was pulling her into his arms.

They danced silently for several moments, and Harm held his breath as he felt Mac drawing closer to him. Before long, she was pressed lightly against him, her head on his shoulder. Harm's hand was splayed across her back, his pinky finger lightly stroking her smooth skin. He was in heaven…

Until he ruined it by dropping a kiss on her forehead. Mac gasped and pulled away, her expression reminiscent of the one she wore after they'd kissed on the admiral's porch. "Mac—" he started to apologize, but she held up her hand, then turned and fled.

Harm gave her a brief head start, and then he followed her out, catching up to her on a terrace overlooking the city.

"Mac, I'm sorry." And he was, but not completely. Having her in his arms again brought him such peace, a peace he hadn't felt since the morning of her last OB appointment. He was just sorry he'd upset her so.

Mac's eyes were wet with tears, the sadness so obvious that he automatically moved to brush them aside.

"Harm, no!" she all but shouted, then reeled back. Unfortunately, she stumbled in her high heels, and Harm had no choice but to sweep her up against him. He could feel her struggling to free herself, but he, knowing she wasn't yet steady enough to be let go, kept his hold on her. Before he knew it, she was sobbing in his arms, and fairly soon, he felt his own eyes sting with tears.

"Mac, honey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't mean to…I didn't mean to make you cry. Sweetheart—"

"N-No, Harm. That's not—that's not—"

And suddenly she was kissing him desperately. He returned her kiss hungrily, his hands moving over back, his tongue tasting the salt of her tears. He became helplessly aroused, and he knew the exact moment she felt his hardness because she abruptly wrenched away.

"Mac—"

Mac backed away, one arm held protectively over her waist, the other held out in front of her, warding him off. "No. No. We can't. Nothing has changed, Harm. I can't do this with you. No!" With that she turned on her heel, running back into the hall as if Satan himself were on her heels. Harm could only stand and watch, his body not yet calmed enough to be seen in public. He walked to the surrounding railing, resting his hands against its coldness, knowing she'd be gone before he could manage to return to the party.

Harm entered his house, tossing his keys on the table by the door. He'd left the gala as soon as he'd confirmed Mac's departure, not even stopping to give his regards to Admiral Chegwidden and the Roberts.

He could still feel Mac's lips on his, still feel her body pressed against him, and despite his sadness at how the night ended, he couldn't stop his body reacting to thoughts of her smooth skin, thoughts of her tongue like velvet in his mouth. He quickly made his way up the stairs to his bedroom, shucking his uniform without care as he made his way to the adjoining bathroom. He turned on the shower, stepping into it before the water was even warm, then stroked himself until he found his release, all while remembering the last time they'd been together.

Flashback…

It had been a terrible day. He'd awoke feeling unsettled, and it took him a moment to realize why.

It was October 24th.

Meggie's due date.

It was hard not to cry then and there, but he forced back his tears, hoping that if he just got up and showered like any other day, went to work as he always did, he'd be fine.

Except he wasn't fine. He teared up in the shower, trying to make himself believe the water on his face was the water from the fancy showerhead she'd insisted on. He drove to work, hoping his colleagues would believe the redness in his eyes was just due to "allergies," and hoping people would just leave him alone to sit in his office.

For the most part, they had, and when it came time to secure for the evening, he hid in his office until most everyone had left. As he gathered his things, he'd looked out the window, noticing Mac's car wasn't in the lot. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen it all day. He wondered if she was okay, if she was in the same bottomless pit of grief he was, and when he got to his own vehicle, he turned in the direction of her apartment.

No, he couldn't just surprise her like that. He thought about calling her, but he knew she'd never answer. Maybe he should just go over there. No, he shouldn't. He definitely shouldn't.

And so, he turned around and drove directly to their, no, his, house, walked past the kitchen, forsaking dinner, and went upstairs to their, no, his, room. He avoided looking in the direction of Meggie's nursery, made a beeline for his bathroom, then showered off the grime of the day. Once he dried himself off, he collapsed into bed, still nude, then gave into the tears he'd been suppressing all day.

It had been over three months since he'd lost his daughter, and for the most part he'd been keeping it together. The grief support group helped, always telling him it was okay to cry, that he didn't have to hold it in just because he was a man. He still felt embarrassed, however. He was the great Harmon Rabb, Jr, fearless aviator and bold attorney, and he should be able keep himself from losing it.

Today was a day, however, that there was no way he could be strong, and what hurt the most was the fact that his wife wasn't there to hold him. He wished he was holding her.

Eventually he fell asleep, dreams of a life with Mac and Meggie assailing him, until some bump in the night awakened him. He sat up, his heart pounding, wondering what had pulled him from his slumber. He was about to get up and investigate, when a shadow appeared at his door.

It was Mac.

Harm quickly slid out of bed, and she threw herself into his arms.

"Why, Harm? Why?" she cried, and it pained him to tell her he didn't know. He didn't understand why their baby had been taken from them, and he didn't understand why his wife had left him too. All he knew right now was his wife was in his arms and he did his best to comfort her. He forgot he was nude as he led her to the bed, letting her sob into his bare skin as he lay back with her, kissing her hair and stroking her back for a good hour until she was spent. Mac started to pull away then, and he knew the time had come for her to leave him. He knew from the first she hadn't come to stay, no matter how much he wanted it, no matter how much he wanted to hold onto her, to never let her go. She would certainly fight him, likely violently, so Harm dropped his arms and Mac sat up.

Except she didn't leave the bed. Instead, she bent down over him, her lips finding his.

They kissed and it was a desperate kiss as her tongue forced its way into his mouth and she covered his naked body with her own. She frantically pushed down her flannel pants with one hand, and Harm hardened painfully. It only took a stroke of her hand to make him come to his full tumescence, and she guided him into her wet depths. They made love furiously, once, twice, even a third time. Eventually she collapsed against him, and in his sleepy state, he'd asked her to stay. She answered by lying down next to him, but even he knew she wouldn't stay for long. He knew she'd be gone before he woke again, but for now he'd take comfort in her body beside him. She went limp in his arms, and he tried so hard to keep his eyes open so he could feel her with him as long as possible. it was only a short time later, however, when sleep claimed him and his hold loosened.

Sure enough, she was gone before the sun came up.

Present Day…

Harm rinsed himself off, then grabbed the fluffy blue towel he'd loved when it was wrapped around Mac. He started to dry himself off with it, trying to block images of it dropping down and pooling at his wife's feet, showing him her beautifully rounded belly. Even as hurt as was by her, thoughts such of these had never failed to arouse him. This time, however, he was hit with a cold fury. He stepped out of his shower and before he could stop himself, his fist shattered the mirror in front of him. He didn't even feel the shards of glass that cut into him, nor the blood that trickled from his wounds; he only felt an unholy rage toward the woman who had promised to love him forever.

End Chapter 12

A/N2: Someone out there correctly predicted what had made Mac so angry. Strong work, JD!