Mother's Day


0800 HOURS
Sarah MacKenzie's Apartment
Georgetown


Lt. Commander Mic Brumby
Bungalow 165
RAN-Garden Island
Sydney, New South Wales, Australia

Dear Mic,

As you can see...I'm sending your ring back to you. I wish there were an easier way to do this...easier on you, that is. I know that your feelings for me are genuine, and I will always treasure that thought, but I feel that prolonging the inevitable end to our relationship will only hurt you more in the long run...and so I'm writing this letter...

Mic, you're everything I could ever want in a life-mate, and I care for you more than you'll ever know, but somehow the bond that we'd need to start a life together just hasn't developed for me. Believe me when I say that I tried...but it just isn't there, and you deserve more than I can give you.

I hope that you can find your way clear to understand and forgive me. I never meant to hurt you.

Sarah



A frown creased the unlined plains of her brow as Sarah MacKenzie punched CTRL-P on her keyboard, and watched the letter come curling out into the return tray of her printer.

Mic would be hurt. She knew that, and it bothered her immensely. He'd been good to her...good FOR her, and she would miss his companionship more than she could say. Even though he lived in another hemisphere, he'd become almost the closest thing to family that she had, with the exception of Uncle Matt. But it wasn't fair to "string him along" with the hope of a life together, when she knew deep down in her heart that it would never be.

She was giving up a man who loved her without reservation... because of a hopeless love for a different man who could never love her back...a man who had in fact formed a relationship with another woman. What kind of bad Karma was that?

Sadly, Mac dropped the small diamond solitaire into the packing envelope from UPS, then folded her letter and tucked it neatly into the dark, bubble-wrapped interior. She'd drop it off on her way to work this morning, heavily insured of course, and it would be on its way. This chapter of her life was over...it was time to move on.

 



1200 HOURS
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia


Nothing seemed to "come together" today. First, UPS had been crowded with Monday morning patrons, causing her to arrive at the office late. Then, she'd found someone's convertible in her parking space, forcing her to relocate to the farthest parking area...thus making her even later. On top of it all, when she'd finally gotten to the office, she'd found that the early morning briefing was already well underway, and that Renee Peterson had been invited to explain her contributions to the proposed budget increase.

Just what she needed! This was going to be a long day.

Now, two hours later, Mac sat staring sullenly out of her window, out at the early blooms of spring, out at Harmon Rabb and Renee laughingly leaving the building for a long lunch...the Admiral's treat.

Dimly, she turned inward...prodding in slow exploratory degrees at the sources of her unhappiness.

First, there was Mic, and the ring. She'd done the right thing...of that she was certain. But why, then, did it make her feel so empty and alone? Why did the loss of the shiny bauble make her finger look so naked and forlorn? Was her life all that empty?

Then, there was Harm. Would she never shake this unrequited bond with the man! If he could love someone like Renee, could there really be a place in his life for her someday? Maybe for everyone else...but not her.

Last of all, was her own, relentless "biological clock", whose solemn tones had reached monumental proportions of late. It didn't seem fair. Men seemed to have all of the time in the world. Why did time have to press so heavily upon her?

Why did all of her problems seen to revolve around men? Had she made so little progress since her teen years that she still had to depend on that singularly "clueless" sex for any degree of happiness? It was an unsettling thought...one, which even more disturbingly, she was having a great deal of trouble dismissing.

"So okay..." she muttered to the unheeding band of sunlight which threw itself boldly across her desk, "...If men hold the key to my happiness (or my abject misery), then, it's only because I've let them! I've empowered them, given them this hold over me...and I can take it away!"

Her jaw firm, the glint of authority in her eyes, she began to triage the problems in her life, and assign them ascending priorities in a new and assertive life-course.

It was surprisingly simple, once she had finally distilled the rules of engagement. Actually, there was only one cardinal rule...that her personal happiness in life was her own responsibility, and no one else's. The power to determine the quality of her existence was hers alone.

So what about the biological clock that still clanged loudly in her ears, undimmed by the empowerment she was no longer willing to share? Well...she'd take care of that too, and the child she bore would have a mother who loved her (him) without reservation, and a much better role model in her own quest for happiness in years to come.

It was a "win-win" situation! Quickly, Mac looked up the address for a noted sperm bank in the metropolitan D.C, area, and grabbed her purse.

It was time to move on, she thought, as she entered the parking lot and began the long hike toward her car. This would be the most productive lunch hour she'd had in a long, long time.

 



1500 HOURS
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia


Harm peered through the Venetian blinds into the empty office. Mac still wasn't back from lunch...what was keeping her?

He'd been surprised to find Renee at the office this morning, and even more surprised to find her, at the Admiral's request, addressing the senior staff on current budget adjustments. She was becoming more and more a part of his life, like an infection, or some insidious disease for which there was no known cure. She'd been fun...good companionship, but she had begun to cross the line.

He'd been comfortable as long as she remained "undecided" about their relationship...at a safe and noncommitted distance, but the in the past few months she had become alarmingly close...suffocating. Why was it so hard for him to call a halt?

Now, scanning the bullpen for signs of Mac's arrival, he worried about her reaction to Renee's morning invasion. Could Renee be the cause of Mac's truancy?

Brusquely, he shuffled the Addamson briefs... his excuse for seeking her out this afternoon. They really weren't all that important... the case had been put to bed weeks ago...but he'd felt the tension between them of late, and had wanted to find a plausible excuse for his presence in her office this afternoon. But now she was nowhere to be found.

Frustrated, he turned and stalked desultorily back to his own desk. Women! All they did was give you grief!

Harm tossed the briefs on top of his desk with an air of frustration. Where in holy hell was she? Wasn't he always there when SHE wanted to talk? Well...maybe not always, but often enough. Why wasn't she there when He wanted to discuss something?

This morning he'd noticed right away that the ring, which had been his primary focus for months, had been missing for the first time. At first glance, he'd thought that Mac had switched it over to her left hand, and his heart had skipped a beat or two. Then, when he'd realized that the offending trinket was nowhere to be seen, he'd breathed a silent sigh of relief. But, maybe she'd just left it in the shower, or dropped it off at a jewelers for repairs or cleaning. He had to know!

Once more Harm thrust the Addamson file beneath his arm and made his way toward the closed door to Mac's professional abode.

"Looking for the Colonel, Sir?" asked Tiner, noticing the Commander's repeated pilgrimage through the bullpen. "She's taking the afternoon off, Sir. Personal business. Is there something I can help you with, Sir?"

"No...no. I just had to talk with her about the Addamson case. I'll catch her tomorrow."

"The Addamson case, Sir? But I thought..."

"I'll talk to her tomorrow, Tiner!" Harm shot back, a little too brusquely.

"Aye aye, Sir" Tiner replied, realizing that he was treading on thin ice, but obviously confused at the intensity of the response. "Well, you know where I am if you need me, Sir." And with that, Tiner beat a tactful retreat back to his desk, away from the curiously disturbed senior officer. Computers were so much more dependable than people, he thought randomly. At least when they snapped, you could shut them off!

Once more the Commander returned to his office, his mood more foul than ever. So...she was taking the afternoon off, was she? He felt cheated...petulant. He'd just have to drop by tonight and talk with her. That's what he'd do...

Then, realizing that he had depositions to gather this afternoon, he tucked his cover under his left arm, grabbed his briefcase, and headed for the door. Maybe he'd drop by and see Mac this evening...the Addamson briefs were still a good foil. But then again, maybe he wouldn't. He decided to decide at a later time. She'd still be there...wouldn't she? He could take his time...no hurry.

 



1800 HOURS
Sarah MacKenzie's apartment
Georgetown


Mac unlocked the door to her apartment and gratefully lowered herself into the welcoming support of her overstuffed sofa. It had been a long afternoon, but finally, after reading through virtually hundreds of donor profiles, she'd narrowed the field to half a dozen likely candidates.

Her mind spinning, she dropped the file containing the vital statistics of the various "frozen pops" on her coffee table, and headed out into the kitchen to warm up some leftover coconut shrimp from last night.

She was tired, but at the same time, she was thoroughly "jazzed" over the prospect of going over the profiles once again...fine honing the possibilities until only one remained...the donor who would ultimately father her child.

She had just closed the microwave when the doorbell rang. Now who was that she wondered? She wasn't expecting anyone. She'd only been in the door for five minutes...and she really didn't want company tonight.

Quickly, she punched a few buttons on the microwave and headed for the doorway, intending to dissuade any prospective visitors that might be lurking in the hall. With a sweep of her hand, she brushed aside the cover from her peephole and scanned the corridor.

It was Harm! What was he doing here? Oh God! She hoped that this wasn't about Renee. She'd just about had enough of the "video princess" for one day! All she wanted at this point was to be left alone...and that included the reluctant Commander!

"Harm!" she said, opening the door and removing the chain. "I don't remember you saying that you were coming over tonight. Did I forget? Were we supposed to work on something?"

Mac stood blocking the doorway, hoping that the uninvited JAG officer would take the hint and head on to greener pastures.

"Well...I have these files. You know...the Addamson case. I wanted to sign off on the paperwork today, but you weren't in the office this afternoon." he said, the slight hint of an accusation creeping into his tone.

"The Addamson case?" she began, totally bewildered. "But..."

Just then the acrid odor of burning coconut infiltrated the room. How many minutes had she punched in on the microwave anyway?

Leaving Harm to his own devices, she raced toward the kitchen and popped open the microwave door.

Dinner was ruined! The shrimp had exploded, covering her microwave with sticky goo and incinerated coconut shreds. What a mess!

"Ever the gourmet, I see." Harm teased as he closed the door behind him and settled down on the sofa. "Now you see why I'm a vegetarian. It minimizes the food-to-glop ratio."

"Funny...really funny." Mac grumbled, grabbing a paper towel and scraping the remains of her meal off the microwave roof. "You know, Harm...I could really do without this Addamson thing tonight. It's not all that critical, and I'm just not up to it right now. Actually, you could have saved yourself a trip and called ahead." she hinted broadly.

Harm dropped the file on the coffee table. He wasn't really interested in the Addamson case this evening either...but it had given him a ruse for being here, and an excuse to get away from Renee for one night.

As Mac spritzed Cinch inside of the aromatic microwave cavity, Harm settled back and made himself comfortable.

It was then that he noticed not one, but two files laying on the coffee table.

"What's this, Mac? You moonlighting?"

"It's personal, Harm. Just leave it alone, okay?" she replied, feeling her stomach lurch uncomfortably.

"New Life" he read on the cover of the mystery file, ignoring her request. "That's a fertility clinic in D.C. isn't it. Wasn't that the one that was going to implement that artificial insemination case you handled last year?"

"Yes it is...and it was...and that's all I plan to say about it. Harm...this is personal. Just let it be."

But he couldn't let it go. The taunting caricature of Mac in a fertility clinic for anything but professional reasons had sprung full-grown in his gut... and was eating him alive.

The scowl on his face spoke volumes. "Talk to me Mac. What are you doing? What have you done? I thought we were friends...don't shut me out now!" Then he paused, his voice controlled...measured, his composure regained.

"What's with this 'New Life' thing?" he asked again, his facade once more in place. "You're not planning a little tax deduction, are you?" he laughed uneasily."

Sarah dropped the disgustingly encrusted paper towel on the kitchen counter and walked back into the living room. "This is my decision, Harm...it has nothing to do with you. But...since it would eventually become common knowledge anyway," she continued, watching his composure once more disintegrate...

"Yes...I'm going to have a baby."

Harm was thunderstruck...no, more than thunderstruck ... he was struck dumb. Uncharacteristically speechless he sat, his jaw agape, and pondered the incredible weight of her statement.

"Well...you wanted to know. Nothing to say?" she asked, wondering if he might need CPR.

"I...ah...you..." he choked, his voice refusing to obey. Turning his head, he coughed noisily into his curled fingers and cleared his throat.

"You're pregnant?' he rasped. "You actually went through with this?"

"Oh, Harm. Grow up! Women do this all the time. This is not exactly a revelation...at least not to anyone but me." she replied, enjoying his discomfiture.

Though it was giving her an inordinate amount of pleasure to see HIM squirm for a change, she decided to end the game before it took on monumental proportions.

"No, Harmon...I'm not pregnant. You can stuff your tongue back into your head. I haven't actually done anything yet. But...get used to the idea, because I'm going to go ahead with this sometime this month...and it's no one's decision but mine!"

Harm fell silent once again...this time deep in introspection. Mac was determined...she'd set the "ball" in motion...but she wasn't pregnant yet. There was still time. But time for what?

"Mac," he began, stalling for time to think, "This is a big step. Have you really thought this out? What about your career...JAG? You'd be a single mother. You couldn't go traipsing all over the world on a moment's notice anymore. How will you manage?"

"Harm...." she began softly, realizing that he taken her words to heart. "I've thought of almost nothing else for the past year. It's time. I'm at the point where I'm willing to make whatever sacrifice it takes to fill this gap in my life. If it means requesting that the Admiral assign me only to administrative duties, then so be it. If I have to, I'll resign my commission...but I'm going ahead with this. I'm committed...there's no turning back now."

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" he questioned somberly. "You want a baby that much?"

Harm thought back to the little girl he'd saved from "Uncle Charlie" the year before, and to how it felt to hold little AJ. He'd had similar leanings himself of late...unspoken longings to hold his child in his arms...to look into its eyes and see his father, mother, family members he'd loved and lost, carried on to yet another generation.

He understood.

"What about Bugme...er Brumby?" he said, attempting to correct a pattern which had become all to set in his mind. "Why a sperm bank? I'm sure he'd jump at the chance to make little Brumbys with you?"

"He would...and I almost took him up on it. But then I realized that I'd just be using him. He deserves more than that...and I couldn't bring myself to do it. I just can't feel the way he wants me to...having his child would only compound the problem. So...I broke it off and sent his ring back to him this morning."

Sarah watched as his eyes softened in relief. He was her old Harm once more...transformed by a single, magical sentence. Had Mic been such an impenetrable barrier between them?

Lost in introspection, Harm leaned over and picked up the "New Life" folder, and began to shuffle through its contents.

"Harm..." she began to protest, but he cut her off as though he'd never even heard her.

"Is my name in here?" he asked, his voice gentle... almost pleading.

Mac was shaken. Why would he say something like that? What kind of response was he looking for?

"No...of course not. Why would your name be in there? These are sperm donors at New Life.

"Maybe New Life doesn't have my name on file, but I thought you did. We had a deal...remember?"

Now it was Sarah's turn to be stunned speechless.

"Well...we did have a deal, didn't we?" he continued gently, taking advantage of her silence. "Have we grown so far apart that you won't even consider it now?"

"Harm," she began, finding her voice, " I didn't think that this was something you were ready for...not yet...and I couldn't wait for you. Besides, if I remember correctly, our deal was for five years down the road."

"Only four now." he corrected her, wondering how she could retain split-second accuracy the rest of the time, and lose a whole year now. "And I'm ready to renegotiate. Mac...Sarah...why BUY a total stranger...someone you know nothing about...when I'm the best man for the job?" he grinned.

"I know that this'll complicate the issue for you..." he continued, "...but I'd do my best to make a hell of a good father. This baby should have one...a father I mean...and I'm applying for the position. What do you say?"

Mac studied his face...the gentle pleading in his eyes. She knew where he was coming from...what was on his mind. He WOULD make a good father...something he'd missed...something she'd never had. However their relationship turned out, he would always be there for their child. This baby would grow up knowing love and security with Harmon Rabb as its father. It was a deal made in heaven.

"What about Renee?" she questioned cautiously. "Most women would be a little 'put off' by having their boyfriends father children with other women."

Renee! He'd forgotten all about her!

"Well...it's not as though we'll be sleeping together. We can still use the artificial approach at New Life. Renee will just have to get used to the idea," he concluded lamely.

"Are you sure about this, Harm? You sound a little ambivalent. I don't want a 'lukewarm' Pop for my kid. You're either 100% into this, or it's no deal."

"It's what I want, Sarah. A child...with you. There's no doubt in my mind. This means more to me than I can put into words...but believe me...I want this as much as you do."

"You know, of course, how they 'harvest' donations at New life... Still sure you want to be in on this one?" she teased, attempting to lighten the moment.

"Ah...yeah." he smiled, a slow flush creeping up from beneath his collar.

"I'll be sure to bring my old 'Playboys'..."

 



1900 HOURS
Sarah MacKenzie's Apartment
Georgetown


Mac was stunned. What had just happened here? She'd started out planning an artificial insemination through a sperm bank using an unknown donor...and now she and Harm were going to be parents...together! Life certainly took on strange twists!

Her mind flashed through the possibilities as she tried once again to scrape the glop out of her microwave. She could see Harm in the delivery room...on the first day of kindergarten...at Little League practice. It would be a good life...and he'd be a good father. Their child would be lucky...and loved...loved beyond belief. It was a good arrangement. Everyone would win.

But somehow, deep in the recesses of her mind, she couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like if they had decided to conceive in the "old fashioned" way?

Distractedly, she threw the last of the coconut shrimp into the garbage disposal, then returned to the living room and turned on the gas logs which filled the fireplace.

The flames were soothing...reassuring, and as she turned out the lights and let their warmth seep into her consciousness, she felt herself drift away...lulled far beyond Georgetown...far beyond the mere measure of here and now... to a place untouched by time and space.

As she closed her eyes, he came to her...strong and silent...gentle and soft-spoken. And in his eyes she saw a depth of longing, an intimacy that she'd never seen before. It was as though he'd forgotten to draw the blinds, and she could see into his very soul.

She felt his hands...large work-roughened hands... gently exploring the yielding contours of her body...leaving trails of fire in their wake...his lips consuming the heated sounds of her passion...

Her breathing became ragged... out of control, and she willed herself back to the world of reality...back to her spot before the fire in her little Georgetown apartment.

This was not what Harm had in mind. He'd made that very clear. He was not looking for love...for passion. He wanted a child, and so did she. This was a relationship based on mutual need. Love had nothing to do with it. Any illusions on her part would only lead to heartbreak in the long run. Her only choice was to block it from her mind...get past it...and move on.

It was the crude jangling of the phone that finally brought her back to her side of the "looking glass".

With a sigh, she lifted the receiver and greeted her caller.

"Hello?" she began. "MacKenzie here."

"It's me, Darlin'. Don't you remember? I said that I'd call you tonight? Did you forget me already, Luv?" a decidedly Australian-sounding voice rejoined.

Mic! She'd forgotten all about his regular Monday evening call. How could she explain the events of the day, when he hadn't even received her letter or the ring yet?"

"Oh, Mic! Of course I didn't forget you. How could I do that? I was just daydreaming. You startled me, that's all."

"So, Luv...have you changed my ring over yet? I hate to keep asking, but I love you, Sarah. I think it's time for us to move forward, don't you?"

There...he'd said it! The first thing out of his mouth, and it had been a direct hit! His aim was uncanny!

"Mic..." she began, searching for the words that would end their relationship, but allow him to retain his dignity. "We have to talk. I've thought about this a lot, and..."

"...you'll be on the next plane for Sydney. Right?" he joked.

"Mic. Stop. This is hard enough to say...just let me get it out. Okay?"

"Okay, Luv. But I have to say, you've got me worried now."

"Mic," she said hurriedly, "It just won't work between us. I sent your ring back by UPS this morning."

For a moment she was sure that the line had gone dead. Then, the sound of his breathing, ragged and strained, broke free and rose above the silence.

"Sarah...I don't know what to say." he responded, his voice choked with emotion. "Did I do something wrong, Luv? Because if I did, I can make it right...just give me a chance."

"Oh, Mic..." she replied, her eyes filling with tears. "You didn't do anything wrong. You couldn't have been more right. The problem is with me, not you."

"Mic, you deserve a woman who loves you without reservation...someone who can put you foremost in her life. I just can't seem to...let go."

Again the phone was silent. Then finally he filled the void with a whisper so soft, so gentle that it could have been carried on a wisp of fairy dust: "I wanted to give you the world, Luv. I hope you still get it. I'll love you forever, Sarah."

And then the line went dead.

 



He could smell the Chinese take-out long before he unlocked the door. So...Renee must be "cooking" tonight, he thought, although, for the life of him, he couldn't remember them planning a date this evening.

Dreading the confrontation that he knew was at hand, Harm turned the doorknob and gained access into the dim, candlelit interior of his apartment.

"Oh Harm! Didn't you just love it?" Renee squealed, throwing herself into his arms. "I wanted to celebrate...you know, about this morning? Was I spectacular, or was I spectacular? It's all right...you can tell me. I take praise very well!" she joked.

"Actually, Renee...what was that all about? How did you end up at JAG today? Are you stalking me, or what?"

"Oh, Harmey...you're so funny. You knew about it all the time! That cute little 'chrome-dome' you work for called me up and asked me to go over the finer points of the budget with the staff. I thought it was your idea!"

Harm shook his head. "Not me, Renee. I was as surprised as everyone else."

Renee pouted, her narrowly plucked eyebrows forming a well defined "V" between her ever-so-blue contacts. "I thought you wanted me there," she murmured, nuzzling his throat. "But if not...then that's okay. At least I know a place where you DO want me!"

Harm scowled as Renee began unbuttoning his shirt, then, impatiently, he brushed her hands away.

"Renee...we have to talk about something. You need to concentrate...this is important," he said, batting her fingers away yet another time.

"Harm...there are times when you're just no fun at all!" she growled petulantly. "So, okay. What's so important that it can't wait until...you know..."

"Renee...sit down. You're making me nervous. Listen..." he said, seating her in a chair and backing away to a safe distance.

"I went to talk to Mac today about...something or other... and we got onto the topic of kids...you know... having children..."

"Okay...so?"

"Well...we decided to have one..."

"Have one?" she echoed slowly. "Have what? A KID? You're telling me that you and that 'Aussie's Delight' are going to have a kid...together?"

"Well...it's not exactly what you're thinking..."

Renee leaped from her seat. "Not what I'm thinking! Mister...you have no idea what I'm thinking. If you did, you'd be wearing a 'cup'! If you've got some idea that you can 'diddle' that 'leatherneck', and then come home to me, then you've got..."

"Renee! Enough already! Sit down!"

Renee's eyes widened, then slowly she sank back into her chair.

"First of all," Harm began, anger tingeing his voice, "there isn't going to be any...'diddling', as you call it. The whole thing is going to be done...clinically. And secondly...this is not your 'home'...it's mine! We're not married, Renee...don't make it sound like we are!"

Renee shifted her gaze toward the open window, her foot tapping angrily against the hardwood flooring.

"You're upset, Harm...you need time to calm down. I think I should go..."

Renee rose and grabbed her faux-leopardskin purse off of the kitchen counter. "There are veggie eggrolls and stir fry in the bag." she shot over her shoulder. "I'm taking the sweet and sour shrimp with me!... Oh hell! YOU can have all this Chinese 'CRAP'...I'm going to overdose on chocolate!"

Shrimp again, thought Harm. His life seemed revolve around the stuff tonight.

"Fine, Renee...whatever. I'll see you later..."

"Maybe..." she shot back over her shoulder as the door closed behind her. We'll see..."

And then he was alone, his mind reeling from the day's input...the strength sapped from his body. He'd been given the perfect opportunity to break it off with Renee. Why hadn't he taken it?

The events of the day crashed discordantly through his mind. Renee...Mac...a child...his child...their child, his and Mac's. They were going to have a baby together!

Slowly the frown lines began to lessen, then melt from the firm plains of his face. The rigors of the day seemed to vanish into nothingness. They were going to have a baby! He and Mac were going to have a child...their child!

Harm sank into the now-empty chair and smiled as a closeness, a feeling he'd never experienced...a warmth that he'd never known existed, began to spread within him...to seep into the very marrow of his bones...into his heart.

Mac was going to have a child...his child. It would be a boy...a son! He'd take him on 'Tiger Cruises' every year...teach him how to throw a ball...Boy Scouts...his first car...his first (date?)...the Naval Academy...

But maybe it wouldn't be a boy...maybe they'd have...a girl. Harm was suddenly surrounded by his own insecurities. What would he do with a girl? How would he raise a cute little pink-bowed girl? Would he even be a part of her life? Would she need him at all?

Thoughts of a tiny, dark-eyed princess filled his mind. She'd look like her mother...of that he was certain. Her eyes would contain all the mysteries of the universe...all the promise of eternity.

He'd have to protect her...make her strong...not the victim of a male dominated society. She could still go on Tiger Cruises! Why not? There had been many little girls on the last cruise with Josh Pendry. And Scouting...so she'd join the Girl Scouts...and he'd volunteer! He'd teach her to throw a ball like a pro...and when the time came for her to enter the "Academy", she'd graduate at the top of her class!

She'd be HIS daughter...and if any pizza-faced sailor had ideas of dropping anchor on her doorstep without his permission...

Yeah...a girl...HIS little girl! She'd be the brightest star in the heavens...precious beyond belief...beyond life. And with Mac as a role model, how could she be any less than a dream come true!

His daughter...

The thought consumed him. Life would never be the same again.

His thoughts drifted on to Sarah...her body full and ripe with the child they'd conceived...his hand warm against the soft flesh of her abdomen as he experienced the tiny kicks of their child in her womb. She would be more beautiful than ever, if that was possible.

His hand began to roam over the arm of the chair, long-felt emotions for his partner rising once again to the surface.

"What am I doing?" he muttered to himself. "This isn't part of the deal!"

She wasn't HIS Sarah...she was Mac. And this was a bargain that they'd agreed upon...not sex...not love...not a life together. Their only connection would be through their child. And someday, he thought dismally, some other man would lie beside his Sarah...touching her...creating another life within her body...sharing the intimate secrets he would forever be denied...

The happiness he'd felt now came crashing down around him.

He wanted more.

He wanted it all.

He wanted Sarah....

 



1200 HOURS
New Life Fertility Clinic
Washington, D.C.


"Come in...come in." Dr. O'Keefe smiled. "Please...take a seat." he offered, gesturing toward a set of matching red upholstered chairs. "So, tell me...what can I do for you today?"

"Well..." Sarah began, addressing the pump, elderly physician, "We'd like to conceive a child, and we've come to you for help."

"I see, " the doctor assured her, confidently. "And how long have you been trying?"

"Actually, Sir...we haven't begun yet. For personal reasons, we'd prefer a clinical approach to the situation." she continued. "I suppose that seems odd to you, doesn't it?"

"No...not at all." the doctor assured her. "We have many gay and lesbian couples who come to us for assistance. It's nothing to be ashamed of..." he counseled.

Then turning to Harm, he smiled warmly. "Being gay doesn't mean that you wouldn't also like to have children." he assured Harm. "And frankly, passing judgement is not my role in this procedure. Your sexual preference isn't my business...making babies is. That's where my involvement ends."

If Harm had been uncomfortable before, he was way beyond that now. Crossing his legs, he folded his arms across his chest, cleared his throat, and tried to form a response.

If he was gay, he thought, he'd have no trouble admitting it, but how do you prove that you're NOT gay?

"I don't think you understand, Sir. We're not...gay or anything. We'd just like a child without becoming involved in a relationship," he explained patiently.

"Of course...of course. I understand completely." the doctor replied knowingly. "It was wrong of me to mention it. Please forgive me...as I said...it's not my business. This whole process probes much too deeply into one's personal domain as it is...that can't be helped...but anything further is just unnecessary. Believe me, I understand. 'Don't ask...Don't tell.' Right?" he smiled benignly.

Harm turned to Mac for help, but found the dark-eyed Colonel ready to burst into laughter. She thought it was funny! From the look on her face...she thought it was hilarious!

"So...where do we start?" she asked, her guffaws barely held in check. This had to be the funniest thing she'd ever heard...and boy, would she remember it!

"Well, first of all," the doctor began, "I'd like to have you both go through a thorough exam...just to be sure everything is ship-shape before we begin. I'd like to see you both in about...let's see my schedule here...six days. Yes that's about right...in six days."

"In the meantime, Colonel MacKenzie, I'd like you to begin charting your temperature with a basal body thermometer each morning, so we can get an accurate profile of your cycle and pinpoint the moment of ovulation. I'll also be sending along an ovulation test kit to gauge your LH levels. My nurse can get you all set up with that on your way out."

"And you, Commander...part of your exam will involve a sperm analysis...you know motility, volume, density and the like. So I'd like to have you refrain from having intercourse for the next six days...with anyone."

Harm knew what the doctor's "...with anyone" comment referred to. Would this guy never give up? It was really starting to "bug" him! How did gay men put up with the condescension of people like this?

Mac, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the whole situation immensely. Some people just had a very misdirected sense of humor!

Finally, the consultation over, Mac and Harm rose to leave. Then, approaching the doorway, Harm turned to nod a perfunctory (and relieved) farewell to the smiling, cherubic physician.

O'Keefe returned his nod, a conspiratory grin on his face.

"And don't worry, Commander..." he said, "My office is like a confessional. Anything we discussed here will remain privileged information. Your private life (wink) will remain just that...private."

It was just too much! Would this guy never "get it"?

And that's when it happened.

In a flash of impulsive desperation, Harm grabbed Mac, and initiating a perfect Fred Astaire imitation, he dipped her low over his left arm and planted a firm, passionate kiss on her awe-struck lips.

O'Keefe was stunned.

Mac was dumbfounded.

...and Harm felt that his grip on reality had long since passed the "point of no return".

The kiss, which had begun only as a childish spate of defiance, now began to take on a life of its own.

Her defenses temporarily circumvented, Mac began to respond...tentatively at first...then with an intensity that even she had been unaware of.

Lost in the moment, Harm forgot all about O'Keefe, and pulled her ever closer...unwilling to release the moment...to release Sarah. She felt so good in his arms...so right. Why did things have to be the way they were between them?

Then slowly, like an airline tray table, Harm returned Mac to her "upright and locked" position, and prepared for the rough "landing" that he knew was forthcoming.

But it was not to be. Mac... her look puzzled and unreadable... stood silent...stunned.

Harm swallowed hard. What could he say? The words were beyond him. That his behavior had been inappropriate was obvious. That it had been immature and unwarranted went without question. But while the words to explain his actions to Mac were stubbornly absent, what he had to say to the doctor was not.

"I'm...not...gay!" he stated simply, then popped his cover on his head, turned on his heel, and vanished down the corridor.

 



1600 HOURS
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia


They rode in silence.

It was as though, by some tacit agreement, the subject of "The Kiss" had become forbidden territory...an alien terrain over which they dare not travel.

Harm, his driving erratic, sped silently onward toward Falls Church, his foot heavy on the gas peddle, his emotions whirling wildly...confusingly within him.

She hadn't looked at him once since she'd come out of the doctor's office with her little bag of "take home" goodies, he'd noticed. Maybe this was to be a "deal breaker". He hoped not...prayed not...but what if it was?

And he, unable to make eye contact himself, had fanatically focussed his attention on the traffic...weaving in and out...side to side...as though by taking command of the road, he could also find a point of command from which to deal with the situation in the front seat.

But it hadn't worked.

Finally, his SUV pulled up outside of Jag Headquarters, where the anxiety-driven couple fairly sprinted toward the security of their respective offices...and hid...until it was time to leave for the day.

With a lump in his throat, Harm watched as Mac strode past his office on her way toward the parking lot. How could they work past this? How could they continue on as though nothing had happened? Was it possible?

The kiss they'd shared had been much more than the pressing of warm, willing flesh. It had been a moment of vulnerability...a moment that had snuck surreptitiously past the heavily bastioned fortresses they each maintained against the world.

They had to deal with the repercussions of that stolen moment, or there would be no way that they could continue on... And that was simply unacceptable.

 



1900 HOURS
Rabbs Apartment
North of Union Station
Washington, D.C.


"I've decided to forgive you, Sweetie," Renee cooed from the open doorway. "I know that you really didn't mean it, so I've decided to let you off the hook...kiss and make up..." she smiled, coyly sauntering across the floorboards and plunking her padded derrière in the middle of the sofa.

"Come over here and show me how much you missed me," she directed, patting the cushion beside her.

This couldn't be happening...not after the day he'd just had. He was already on 'overload', and now this?

"Renee...I'm really tired. Couldn't we get together some other night?" he pleaded, hoping that Renee would take the hint for once. "You have no idea what this day's been like. I've had it. Believe me, I have nothing left to give."

"Oh...my poor Harmie," Renee crooned, her hand snaking around his waist...drawing him down onto the sofa beside her.

"I'll bet I can make you feel better...much better."

"Renee...I can't...not now," Harm chided, moving toward a nearby chair. "I've really had a lousy day. This is a bad time for me...you should have called first."

"Bad time...lousy day... What? Did you buy stock in a cliche factory? Next you'll say that you have a headache!"

"Well...actually..."

"Harm! If you don't want me here...just say so. I'm a big girl," she said petulantly. "I could have been out with almost anyone tonight. But no-o-o-o. I decided to give you a break and let bygones be bygones. I don't need this, Mr. Rabb JUNIOR, and frankly...you're starting to bore me!"

Harm breathed an exhausted sigh and rolled his eyes upward toward the ceiling. "Renee...you don't understand. I'm not brushing you off. I'm just not supposed to...to..."

Why was he telling Renee this, he wondered? SHE wanted to leave...and HE wanted her to leave. It sounded like SHE wanted out of the relationship...and boy, did HE want out of the relationship! Being "dumped" would be the best thing that had happened all day!

Silently, Harm thanked his lucky stars for Renee's flightiness. She'd taken the reins into her own hands...something that he should have done long ago, and after tonight it would be all over. No more Renee...no more "video princess" as Mac called her, and no more female impediments standing between him and the woman he really wanted...Colonel Sarah MacKenzie.

"Harm! Snap to it, Boy! I'm talking to you! You could at least do me the courtesy of PRETENDING that you care what I have to say!"

Renee twisted around and careened a toss pillow at his head. "Harmon...I've had enough. That's it...no more! Do me a favor...the next time you want to call me...DON'T!" And with that, she launched herself off of the sofa, shifted her misaligned padding back into place, and stalked toward the door.

"And frankly...I thought you did a lousy reading on that commercial!" she sneered, throwing her best parting shot behind her. "Don't quit your day job!"

Harm was never so glad to hear a door slam in his life! Well, today wasn't a total loss after all, he thought. At least the "Wicked Witch of the West (Coast)" was gone. Maybe things were looking up!

Tired and hungry, Harm went out to fix a tofu dog on whole wheat, and thought once more about the strange chain of events that had capped the consultation at "New Life" that day.

He wasn't homophobic...at least he didn't think so...but the guy just wouldn't believe him! He wasn't used to being thought a liar...and it rankled him...a lot.

Well, at least that issue had been put to bed, (bad choice of words, he thought). Unbidden, Harm began to "free associate": Bed-Mac...Mac-Baby...Baby-Warm, soft, round, Mac... Oh God...he had to get a grip!

Quickly, determined to get it over with before he lost his nerve, he grabbed the phone and began to dial her number...and then stopped. What would he say? Whatever it was...they needed to talk face-to-face...not over the phone. This was too important. He'd need to work that "special smile" overtime to smooth this one out!

So, he'd go over to her apartment and talk, he decided. He'd tell her everything...about Renee...how he felt...but he wouldn't apologize for the kiss. Not that... because, quite honestly, he wasn't sorry for the kiss. He was only sorry that it hadn't happened long before this...years ago.

Quietly...uneasily, Harm pulled on a light jacket and prepared to head out toward his car. But...what if she threw him out. What if she was still angry over this afternoon. This could be a very bad move if the timing was wrong...VERY bad!

It's late, he thought, rationalizing his cowardice. She's probably getting ready for bed (forget bed...don't go that route again!). I'll see her tomorrow, when she's had a chance to (calm down) rest.

Harm dropped his coat in the middle of the floor. Who was he kidding? He was scared to death to raise the issue of intimacy with Mac...Sarah...particularly after he'd put her on "hold" in Australia.

No wonder she preferred the "clinical" approach now. He'd blown it...big time! She must have been repulsed by his juvenile antics in O'Keefe's office this afternoon...and he couldn't blame her! He was an idiot!

If he was lucky...and kept his mouth shut this week, maybe she wouldn't cancel him out entirely. If she should reconsidered her decision to allow him to share in this baby...well, it was unthinkable.

He'd lose everything. Fatherhood...their baby...and probably the only woman he'd ever love.

Someone had once told him never to gamble when you couldn't afford to lose. It had been good advice at the time.

It still was...

 



Same Day
1800 HOURS
Sarah MacKenzie's Apartment
Georgetown


He was a good kisser.

No...he was a great kisser!

Something inside of Sarah told her that they'd made more than a physical connection in O'Keefe's office that day...much more, and yet she couldn't find the exact words to define what she was feeling.

Harm's kiss had begun as a mindless, macho response to the homosexual innuendoes harbored by the skilled but naive fertility specialist, Charles O'Keefe... of that she was sure. And her ill-disguised enjoyment of the misunderstanding had made her a prime target for retaliation.

But what had begun as a childish response to an awkward scenario, had evolved into something entirely different...something much deeper...much more intimate.

She'd been stunned at first...startled by the physical nearness of him...torn by her own response. But as he drew her nearer, closer to the warmth...the scent of him, she'd begun to feel a closure in her life that had been both unexpected and fulfilling. It was as though the very last piece of the puzzle had finally slipped silently into place, and now her life was complete.

The fact that he hadn't felt the same, brought her only agony.

Harm hadn't even been able to look at her on the drive back to Falls Church. And when they'd arrived, he'd promptly sequestered himself in his office, and hadn't spoken to her for the rest of the day. What chance had they for more...for a future together, when a mere kiss could tear them so completely asunder?

Hadn't it been at his request that they would take the "clinical" approach to the conception of their child? The message was clear: Their lives may briefly overlap...but never run in tandem.

It was a fact that she would have to get used to...a situation that only he could alter. As for her...life would revolve around their son. Wasn't that what this was all about? And maybe...someday...she would find a soul-mate with whom she could share both a child... and a lifetime.

Thoughts of her son...their son, slipped silently into her consciousness. It would be a boy...she knew that. It had to be a boy...Harmon Rabb III. A son to carry on the proud name that had been given to Harm by his father, and would now be passed down to a child of his own.

He'd be tall...how could he be anything else? And he'd have dark hair...and a grin that made girls swoon. And he'd have eyes that you could lose yourself in...deep, liquid pools...just like his father.

"Little Harm" would be a happy child...loved by two parents who "hung the moon" on his every word. There would be no drunken, abusive father for her son...no maternal abandonment. He'd know the warmth of her gentle touch, and his father's manly hugs...he'd grow strong in an environment filled with security...hope...and love. And when the time came, he would have no problem sharing that love, and that commitment to life with the mother of his own children.

Sarah remembered again how Harm's eyes had looked this afternoon...dark...and troubled. As though he was rethinking the equation...replacing her with another variable...another woman.

Could it be? Was he now regretting their "deal"? Maybe Renee was more his type after all?

She had to know...she had to get it out into the open. This was her child...her chance at happiness...and he had no right to play games with her life.

Wordlessly, Sarah pulled on a light windbreaker and made her way out into the street where her car lay parked. It was early yet...he should still be up. They still had time to put the day to rest over a hot cup of tea.

Pulling into traffic, Mac shifted into third and headed toward the Capital. The cool spring breeze felt refreshing as she traveled the short distance through Georgetown toward the Union Station area of D.C..

Clearing the air with Harm would feel just as refreshing, she thought, trying to focus her attention on her driving. There were things that needed to be said...bridges that needed to be built...and tonight was the night.

Sighting his street coming up on the left, Mac moved cautiously into the turning lane and made her way toward the alley that offered the only parking in the vicinity of Harm's loft.

Parking spots seemed to be at a premium this evening, with the local theater crowd taking up most of the usually empty spaces, and Mac found herself double-parked...waiting for the next vacancy to appear.

Then a door opened...the door to Harm's building...and a slim, blond woman came sashaying out into the darkened street...heading for a silver convertible, "creatively" parked across the alleyway.

It was Renee.

Mac felt the blood drain from her face...her breathing becoming shallow and threatened.

Did Harm think so little of his "commitment" to her... to their child... that he would brush aside O'Keefe's brief dictate of celibacy for a "quickie" with the "Hollywood Harlot"? Apparently so...

Sadly she watched as Renee climbed into her little, metallic sportscar and peeled away from the curb.

He hadn't even been able to abstain for six days, she seethed...just six days! Their agreement meant nothing to him...and she meant even less...

The things that she'd come to say would remain unsaid...the bridges burned. Harm was a louse! His only saving grace was a great gene pool...and she was determined to make the most of it! Nothing else mattered...their "deal" would remain just that...a deal...and nothing more.

Actually, she was lucky. If she'd arrived only a few minutes later, she would never have known. Up until then, she'd thought that The Kiss had meant something...that they'd finally made a connection...that they might even consider putting the artificial insemination idea to bed (so to speak)...but now...

Mac thought about their next visit to New life.

Let Harm bring his "old Playboys"! It served him right! He deserved to "date" an air-brushed blond with a staple in her navel.

She only wished she could get Polaroids!

 



The next week passed very slowly.

Harm, fearful that Mac might reconsider their agreement, in view of his unwarranted advances at New Life the week before, maintained a low profile around the office. While Mac... hurt...confused...and more than a little angry, sought his company only when professionally necessary.

Their relationship had become strained to the breaking point, and both wondered if the other would even make an appearance at New Life the following day.

Finally, after hours that seemed like days, and days that seemed like years, the time for their appointment with O'Keefe arrived.

Harm sat uncomfortably across the waiting room watching Mac browse through an ancient magazine, her focus anywhere...everywhere but on him. But at least she had shown up!

He hadn't been sure. He hadn't been eating. He hadn't been sleeping. In fact, he'd done more roadwork...more hours in the gym working off his sleepless frustration this week than he had in the past three months put together.

Harm was desperate. He wanted this child. He wanted Mac. He wanted another chance.

 



Mac, on the other hand, was keeping a cool head about her...or at least so it seemed. Though she'd buried her nose in some old copy of "Toothpaste World", or some such ridiculous garbage, her covert gaze never seemed to leave his face.

He'd actually kept their appointment! She'd been afraid that he wouldn't! No Playboys though...with his ego, he was probably so "full of himself", that all he needed was a mirror! Finally the receptionist called his name... he was escorted back through the wide oak doorway, and ultimately vanished from sight.

Relieved, Mac dropped her magazine into a disorganized pile beside her chair. (Just the cover had told her more than she'd ever wanted to know.)

It was only then that Mac noticed the sea of faces which surrounded her...male faces...females faces...faces with only one thing in common. In each case their expressions were that same...their lips set and downturned in desperation...their eyes clinging to hope...searching for a miracle.

It must be hard, she thought, to want a child more than life, but not to be able to have one. Thank God she wouldn't be joining their ranks. She didn't think that she would have their courage...the blind faith that it took to continue onward with your heart tied up in knots.

Finally her turn came around, and she too was escorted behind yet another door, and taken to an examination room. There she suffered the indignity of a pregnancy test (what did they think she was here for?), PAP smear (she needed one anyway), loads of bloodwork (the vampires!), a pelvic exam (no comment), and a general physical. She was asked about her "cycle"...when, how long...how much...how early etc., then finally allowed to dress and wait for the doctor in his office.

Harm, his legs crossed once again (this was getting to be a regular thing with him around here), sat in the chair closest to the window, sheepishly studying cloud formations...avoiding eye contact with her as much as possible.

"So...did everything come out all right?" she asked, her mouth having forgotten to check in with her brain.

Mac watched as a slow flush crept upward from beneath his collar...capturing his cheeks...and ultimately laying claim to his entire face.

"Yeah..." he answered briefly...his reluctance to continue this particular thread of conversation almost tangible. "Fine."

Silently they sat, waiting for the doctor to appear and end their awkward solitude.

Finally, unable to stand it any longer, Harm broke the silence that had claimed the room...and their relationship...and broached the topic that was uppermost in both of their minds.

"Mac...as long as we're here...alone...I think we need to talk about this."

"About what?" she responded evasively, her resistance beginning to fade.

"You know what I'm talking about, Mac. You can't think I'm that stupid. We need to talk about what happened here last week...the kiss. I need to explain...to apologize."

"There's nothing to apologize for, Harm. Nothing happened. It was just a prank...I'm over it."

Harm sat silently gauging her response. What had happened was more than a prank. He knew it...and so did she...and neither of them was "over it".

"Mac...I'm going to say this whether you want me to or not...so you might as well listen. I'm sorry that I took advantage. I'm sorry that I embarrassed you...but I'm not sorry that...

"...you got even. Right?" she finished. "You're not sorry that you got..."

"I'm not sorry that I kissed you." he interrupted.

(Silence.)

"What?"

"I said that I'm not sorry that I kissed you." he repeated.

"I know that you don't want to hear this...but I'm not sorry that I kissed you, " he repeated for the third time. "It was long overdue. I've wanted to do that for years. But..." he continued, "I've never wanted to force myself on you...and I did. For that, I'm truly sorry."

Harm sat vacantly staring at an anatomy poster detailing the male reproductive system. Would she respond, he wondered? And if she did...HOW would she respond?

Then, in a voice almost inaudible to the human ear, she whispered, "I'm not sorry either, Harm. You're right...it was long overdue."

Harm was touched...no, more than touched...he became consumed with the urge to touch her...to kiss her once again.

Silently, he rose from his place by the window and crouched low beside her chair.

"Mac?" he said, his finger gently lifting her chin...turning her reluctant gaze toward him. "Look at me, Mac. I need to see your eyes..."

"If you felt that way...why didn't you ever say anything?" he asked, his gentle voice touching her in places that only a lover had ever reached. "Why didn't you let me know?"

"Why didn't You ever let ME know?" she countered. "I made the first move...in Australia...remember? You just left me dangling. What was I supposed to do...throw myself at you?"

Gently, he brushed his lips across the fingers of her right hand. "What could I say? By the time we left, you were wearing Brumby's ring...you'd already made up your mind. I didn't want to stand in the way of your happiness...even with him."

"Sarah...I love you." he said, his eyes radiating the pure truth of it all. "I love you enough to let you go, rather than ever see you hurt. Does that make any sense?"

"What about Renee?" Mac asked, trying to keep her emotions on an even keel. "Where does she fit into all of this?"

"She's gone, Sarah...for good. We were never right for each other anyway, and last week we both finally realized it. She's out of my life. There's only you."

"Can we start over?"

"Harm," she said, her fingers tracing the contour of his lower lip, "...we never stopped. It was just a temporary detour...for both of us."

"Maybe we don't need this place after all. What do you think?" he asked, hopefully, his eyes smoky with a desire...a need to close the distance between them.

"Maybe we don't," she agreed. "I was always just an 'old-fashioned girl' at heart."

Harm leaned forward and touched his lips to hers...gently at first...then deepening...a timeless hunger rising up to claim him.

"Ahem...Am I disturbing something?" O'Keefe said entering the room, his smile showing amusement over the display. "I hate to interrupt you, but there are some things that we need to go over before we schedule your initial insemination."

Smiling, Harm took Mac's hand in his and settled himself into the seat next to hers.

"I don't think we'll be needing your services, doctor. The situation's under control. I think...I know, that we can handle it from here." he grinned.

O'Keefe returned his smile, if not wholeheartedly, and took his place behind his desk.

"That's not something I hear very often around here. Are you sure about this?" he questioned, opening the file which sat before him.

"Quite sure," Mac confirmed, her hand nestled in Harm's. "The Navy's on the job...and the Marines are here to make sure the job gets done."

"Well then...I guess there's nothing more for us to say, is there folks. Our business is concluded. I wish you both all the luck in the world. Just remember...I'm always here if you need me." he offered genuinely, as Harm and Mac rose to leave.

"Ah...one more thing," he added, "Commander...could I see you privately for a moment before you leave? This will only take a minute..."

"If you'd like, you can wait in the outer office, Colonel..."

Puzzled, Mac heard the door close behind her as she left the room. What was going on?

Back in his office, the doctor crossed the carpet, and took the now-empty seat next to Harm...his demeanor solemn ...personal.

Commander...I know we got off to a bad start. It was totally my fault...Please, accept my apologies," he said, extending his hand. "But now I need to talk to you about something entirely different."

Harms brows drew together in a scowl. What in the world was this all about?

"Commander...you don't happen to wear jockey shorts, do you?" O'Keefe questioned.

"What...come again?"

"You know...jockey shorts...tight underwear, or enjoy spending long dips in a 'hot tub', do you?" the doctor continued.

I KNOW what jockey shorts are! Doctor...I hope that there's a point to all of this...preferably something medical."

"Well...now don't get excited...the lab found some irregularities in your "donation" today. Potentially, there can be many causal effects in a case like yours. I was hoping that we could narrow down the possibilities."

"By asking me about my underwear? Doctor...just what sort of 'irregularities' are we talking about here?"

"Well...specifically...you appear to have a particularly low sperm count. Has anyone ever told you that before?"

Harm shifted uncomfortably. "Now just who would have told me something like that!" he replied irritably. "So what exactly does this mean? Are you saying that I can't have kids?" he continued, his voice heavy and controlled.

"Now don't get ahead of me, Commander. Let's just talk about this before we jump to conclusions. I'm assuming that the 'hot tub' and tight underwear responses are negative. Am I correct?"

"That's correct. Why?"

"Well, sperm are extremely temperature-sensitive. Long soaks in a hot tub, or tight underwear, can expose them to more heat than they can withstand."

"How about your diet? There are certain vitamins and minerals that a healthy sperm count needs to survive. You haven't been on any fad diets or anything, have you?"

"I take care of my body, Doctor. I'm pretty much a vegetarian. I can't believe that could be the cause."

"Probably not, particularly if you take vitamins, but it may be a factor. Being a vegetarian should put you in good shape for vitamin E, but you may be a little low on zinc and amino acids. They're both important. You haven't been cutting back on meals or anything?"

"No...when I'm hungry, I eat!" Harm exclaimed. But then he remembered...he hadn't been eating much this week...almost nothing in fact.

"How about exercise. Too much...too little?"

"I have a daily exercise plan, Doctor. I run 10-15 miles each morning...work out at the gym when I can. I'm not a body builder, if that's what you're getting at."

"That mileage may be a little much for right now. Cutting back a bit may help some... You're not into anything extreme then?"

"Doctor...I wouldn't have time for anything extreme. Besides, I'm a lawyer. I sit on my 'six' all day. Nothing extreme there."

But, he thought, this week I've doubled...practically tripled my roadwork, and I've been in the workout room at JAG, avoiding Mac every chance I got. But this doctor must be out of his mind. He knew lots of body builders...family men...who had no trouble fathering a child. This was insane.

"Commander...I'd like to place you on a fertility regimen...see if we can't build up your count by natural means. This may be nothing at all. Then, in about two weeks, I'd like to have you come back for a follow-up. Does that work for you?"

But Harm was no longer listening. He was focussing, instead, on the death knell of a cherished dream...the sound of his own sterile mortality crashing around him. There would be no children in his life...not now...not ever. He would never know the tender joy of fatherhood.

In a world filled with the laughter of children...he alone had been uninvited.

Numbly, Harm stood and took the sheet of instructions that O'Keefe offered him. Then, folding them, unread, he stuffed them into his pocket and headed for the door.

"Commander? Would you like my secretary to schedule an appointment for you? Commander?..."

But Harm had "shut down". What did he have to offer Mac now? He knew that she'd stick by him, no matter what, but how could he destroy her dream as well?

The answer was simple...

He couldn't.

 



Something was wrong.

She'd known it immediately...the minute Harm had left O'Keefe's office. The dull resignation in his eyes had spoken volumes. Something was wrong...and as usual...he wasn't talking.

She considered backtracking to O'Keefe's...asking the doctor, point blank, exactly what they'd discussed...but she knew that it would be futile. His "confessional" was closed, and she hadn't been included. She was out of luck.

All she could hope for now, was that the breach they'd made in the wall between them would be enough to allow her into his confidence...his world, once again. But from the look on his face, it wouldn't be easy.

As life had made her a fighter...then love would make her a winner. This was a battle that she couldn't afford to lose...and no matter what the cost...she wouldn't.

 



1900 HOURS
The Same Day
Rabb's Apartment


Harm was despondent.

Silently he looked at the photo of his father, posing happily of the deck of his carrier with his son at his side.

He looked at the pride...the joy...the love that radiated from his father's eyes, even through the aged and yellowing black and white photograph. It was a feeling that he would never experience...and it was killing him.

The problem with Mac was a whole different matter altogether...different, and much more difficult. What could he possibly say that would make her understand how he felt...that, for her sake, he needed to close the door between them forever?

She was stubborn...she was persistent...and even in his darkest moments, he loved her more than he could put into words.

But...he could never shatter her dreams.

How many times had he seen the longing in her eyes as she held baby AJ, or gave her heart to the mischievous Chloe? How often had seen the look of longing claim her heartfelt gaze as a stroller went by?

She wanted a child...she needed a child...but a child was the one thing that he was unable to give her.

He needed to set her free.

His tortuous journey was interrupted by a knock at the door.

It was probably Mac, he thought with trepidation as he neared the door. It would be like her. He'd seen the look on her face when he'd left the doctor's office. She knew something was "up", and she wouldn't rest until she learned the truth.

But how could he explain this? His rationale would have to be airtight...his logic flawless. In short, he would have to lie like a pro...

Quickly, Harm dashed for the shower, turned it on full blast, then tossed a discarded pair of Renee's shoes on the living room floor. Finally, the stage set, he once again approached the door.

"Mac! I didn't expect to see you tonight. Did we have an appointment?" he said, feigning surprise. "Listen, I'm kind of busy at the moment. You should have called. Could we do this another night?"

Mac looked perturbed. It was working...

"Harm, you still have to eat. Look, I brought over a Greek salad...and veggie mousaka. The least you could do is let me in for a minute!"

Harm hated himself for what he was about to do...he hated the dishonesty of it...he hated hurting his darling Sarah...but most of all, he hated losing the only woman he would ever love.

"Well, okay." he agreed with faux reluctance. But just for a minute..."

Harm took the food containers from her and headed for the kitchen...with Mac right behind him.

"Harm...did you know that your shower's running?" she asked, noticing that he was still fully dressed. "What are you doing...steaming the wrinkles out of a shirt?"

"Yeah...something like that." he replied, feigning nervousness. "I guess I forgot it."

It was then that she noticed the shoes lying on the floor. Women's shoes...faux alligator stilettos. Renee's shoes.

"Harm...is someone in your shower?" she asked, her eyes beginning to mist. "Are you...is it Renee? Tell me the truth, Harm...at least have the decency to tell me the truth."

Harm looked away...unable to form the lie that would end it all. But that was enough. Lifelessly, he dropped down onto the sofa and watched as the play came to an end, and the proscenium came tumbling down around his miserable existence.

"Enjoy the food...both of you." she said, her voice filled with the pain of betrayal. ²This was all a mistake. I...I..."

Silently, holding the tears at bay, she turned and opened the door...then stopped.

In a moment of inexplicable clarity, she knew. There was no one else in the apartment...no one in the shower. It was all a ruse. She didn't know how, but deep down in her heart she knew that it was true. He was trying to break it off...but why?

Slamming the door behind her, she charged across the floor and pressed him back against the sofa...her angry gaze a warning that she would tolerate only the truth.

"What's this all about, Harm? And no 'bullshit' this time," she swore. "I've had enough. Why are you pushing me away?"

Yet another lie began to form on his lips, but the look in her eyes told him that the time for deception was over. He had to come clean...he had to tell her the truth...and then he had to send her away.

"Mac...(How can I say this?)...I know that this is going to be hard for you to accept...it's hard for me too...but you have to believe me. A baby between us isn't possible... physically, I mean."

"Mac...I can't have kids..."

Mac was stunned. So this was what O'Keefe had told Harm this afternoon. The agony he'd gone through must have been unbearable!

"This isn't the way I planned it..." he continued. "I wanted you to dump me...hate me...turn away and never look back."

"Mac, this was never part of the deal. I'm breaking it off...all of it. You deserve a child of your own, and that's something that I can't give you. I won't bind you to a childless existence...I can't take away your dreams...it's over."

Breathlessly, Mac took a step backwards, her focus turned inward...knowing that her next words would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Should she give up the man she loved in order to feel the child of a stranger growing within her, or should she abandon maternity in favor of spending her life with a man who meant more than life to her?

The answer wasn't simple...it wasn't easy, but it was there... and it was the only one that she could live with.

Gently, she sank to her knees beside him...cradling his face between her palms...touching him as though to draw the pain from his eyes...from his heart, and into her own.

"You know... I knew you long before I met you in the Rose Garden." she began, her voice soft and soothing.

"Mac?"

"It's true, Harm. When I was little, trying to block out my Mother's screams... you were a prayer for someone to magically whisk me away to a faraway place, where men didn't come home drunk and beat their wives into submission."

"And when I was a teenager," she continued, "...you were a dream of someone who could see past my drunken facade...reach deep down into my heart...and set me free."

"I've loved you all of my life," she whispered,"...all of my life."

"And now?" he rasped bitterly. "What could I possibly mean to you now?"

"Now, Harm? Now, you're the fire that warms my soul...the hand that I want in mine as I grow old...and the last voice that I want to hear as I leave this life behind," she said.

"How can you take that away from me?"

Harm could find no words to answer her...no adequate assurances that he could give....and so he drew he close, the warmth of his lips sealing a bond that only eternity could break.

"Sarah?...are you sure?"

"Shhhh, " she whispered, stroking the hair from his forehead. "Life is a long string of choices, and my choice is to spend my life with you."

Then, consumed with the desire to make their union complete, he lifted her in his arms and carried her up the low staircase, laying her on the soft, down coverlet atop his bed. And as their last, frail barriers were relegated to a disorganized heap on the hardwood floor, he began to explore the mysteries that lay hidden from the chill world beyond.

Gently he touched her, tentatively at first, then with more assurance as he learned her rhythms, her slowly awakening passions.

She was so soft, so delicate, and yet he knew that she carried a warrior spirit that could handle all the world had to offer.

He pulled her close, feeling her heart beat against his chest, maddeningly tasting the very corners of her lips...first one and then another...until she plunged her tongue deep within the moist, dark recesses of his mouth...claiming it for her own.

Sarah moaned softly as he cupped her breast, his thumb gently caressing the pebbled surface of her nipple as though preparing her trembling flesh for things yet to come.

Slowly...unerringly...he forged a moist, warm trail down the length of her throat, pausing hungrily to taste the savory richness that lay before him until, inevitably, he drew her hardened nipple deep into his mouth.

Sarah gasped as his fingers slid silkenly between her thighs, probing intimately, opening the floodgates of her desire.

Her body trembling, she threw her head back and cried out his name as wave upon wave of unbridled passion washed over her, whetting her appetite even further, driving her toward a consummation beyond mere flesh and lust.

And then, just when she knew that she could bear the torment no longer, she felt him inside of her...warming her...filling her...driving her to the stars and beyond. Yesterday was gone...tomorrow just a dream...there was only now...his arms...his lips...his love.

And when it was over, they lay together like two halves of a whole that could never again be torn apart. They were one...they were complete. Whatever the world had to offer in the maze of time, they could deal with it...as long as they had each other.

"I love you, Sarah MacKenzie." he whispered into the warm chocolate strands of her hair, his hand gently stroking the smooth curve of her hip. "We'll have our kids, my Love...whatever it takes...I promise."

"I know, Harm," she replied, "...I know..."

Then, kissing the very tip of his nose, she looked deeply into his eyes.

"Harm?"

"What, Sarah, tell me."

"Your shower's still running."

 



May 14, 2000
One Year Later
Mother's Day


-------------------------------------------

BIRTH ANNOUNCEMENT

Mr. and Mrs. Harmon Rabb
would like to announce the birth of
their daughter

Patricia MacKenzie Rabb

6 pounds - 7 ounces

Born at 11:30 P.M., May 14, 2000
at Bethesda Naval Hospital,
Bethesda, Maryland

-------------------------------------------



"Are you disappointed, Sarah?" he asked, placing the tiny, pink bundle in her arms. "I know you wanted a boy...but I've got to tell you...this little girl is a dream come true. She's everything I ever wanted."

"How could I be disappointed, Harm? Just look at her...she's perfect in every way. I never knew that I had this much love to give..."

"Besides...the next one will be a boy...and with a name like 'Harmon the third', he'll need a big sister to protect him."

"When?" he questioned. "Next year?"

"Or the year after that...or whenever we're ready."

"We have all the time in the world, my Love," she said, stroking his cheek, "...all the time in the world."


THE END

 



Happy Mother's Day to all of the women who've ever devoted their hearts and lives toward raising a child.

- Katherine





 

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1