The Next Conflicting Phase

Part Six

Yes.

It was amazing how much damage one little word could do. A word that was meant for positive things; an answer to questions like `Do you love me?' or `Will you marry me?'. Not for ones like `Do you feel that lump in your breast?' or `Is it cancer?'

Cancer; that was another damaging word. It was a word that wasn't supposed to touch them. After all, isn't that what this was for? This monthly exam; wasn't it supposed to prevent this? Wasn't it a spell, performed every month to ward off an evil curse? As if just the touch of a hand, the gentle pressure of fingers sliding over soft flesh, could erase the threat as easily as erasing words on a chalkboard. Words like tumor, or disease. Or cancer.

Neither one of them said that word, of course. They didn't say anything. They didn't even move. They just sat there, staring at the hands still resting, one on top of the other, on her chest.

Harm was the first to recover, as his natural instinct to search for answers and fix problems kicked in and demanded that he take some kind of action. Sliding his hand away, he propped himself up on his elbow and asked softly, "What happens now?"

Mac looked at him, her eyes dazed. "I, um," she hesitated, trying to push away the fog of shock enveloping her. She met Harm's worried gaze and finished quietly, "I call the doctor and make an appointment."

"Are you going to do that now?" Even as he asked the question, he was leaning over to pick up his cell phone where it was lying on her nightstand.

"Harm, it's 2023," she countered, reaching over and trying to gently remove the phone from his hand. "I can't call now; no one would be there."

"It's Bethesda, Mac," he argued, not releasing his grip. "There's always doctors there."

Mac tugged harder and successfully pulled the cell from his hand, placing it back on the table. "For emergencies. This isn't an emergency."

"But-" Harm lifted his hand again, and Mac quickly covered it with her own.

"Harm, I'm going to Bethesda tomorrow afternoon to take a deposition." She squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I'll make an appointment with my doctor then."

"You should call first thing in the morning and see if they can fit you in tomorrow afternoon," he pushed her, unwilling to waste one moment, "since you'll already be there."

"Fine," she agreed quickly, not wanting to argue about it. Not wanting to think about it at all. "That's a good idea."

"What will you tell the doctor?" he quizzed her, missing the silent plea in her eyes.

"That I found a lump in my breast," she answered him with barely concealed impatience. There was nothing they could do about this tonight, and she desperately needed him to let it go for now. To stop pushing and let her pretend, just for one more night, that everything was fine.

But Harm couldn't let it go. He needed answers. He needed to know this was fixable. "What happens then? Are you going to have to go to a specialist-"

"Damn it, Harm!" she exploded, her frustration and her fear overpowering her. "How the hell should I know?"

Harm drew back in shock. He opened his mouth to defend himself, when he finally saw the fear hiding behind the anger in her eyes. The same fear that had taken hold of him. Taking a deep breath, he said softly. "I'm sorry. I just..."

He trailed off, unable to explain the confusing mass of emotions swirling in him right now. But Mac saw, and her anger dissipated as suddenly as it had appeared.

"I know. I do," she assured him. She sighed. "I'm sorry, Harm. I didn't mean to snap. But I've never dealt with this before either. I don't know what happens next."

Of course she didn't. He should have realized that, and not pushed. "You're right. I'm sorry." He looked at her with a kind of desperate hope. "Besides, it's probably nothing. Most of the time these things are nothing, right?"

"Right," she agreed, shaking her head fervently, "I'm sure it's nothing. Nothing to worry about."

"Absolutely." They spoke the words as another talisman to ward off evil, and hoped desperately that they would work.

"Um, what...are you hungry?" Harm asked, deciding that avoidance was the only thing they could really do tonight. "Why don't I make us some dinner?"

"Yeah, dinner sounds good." Actually, nothing sounded more unappealing at the moment. Her stomach was tied up in so many knots; it would take forever to untangle them. Still, if it gave him something to do, somewhere else to focus his attentions, she would pretend. "Do you want to order a pizza or something?"

"No, I got stuff for sandwiches at the store," Harm told her, sliding off the bed. He grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from the drawer. "And I got some soup from that deli down the street. I just need to reheat it."

"Oh, okay," she said quietly. She watched him slip into his clothes, and it only served to emphasize her own nakedness. Hastily pulling her robe back onto her shoulders, she stammered, "I'll, um, I'll get dressed quick and then I'll come help you."

"Great." He slowly headed for the kitchen, torn between his desire to escape the oppressive weight that was hanging between them, and the need to keep her within arms reach. When he finally reached the door, he turned back. Mac had pulled out a pair of old pajamas, and was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on the bottoms. Looking closer, he recognized her old cowboy pajamas, and for a moment his fear melted in the face of old memories. The need to tell her that he loved her washed over him and he called out softly, "Mac?"

"Yeah?" She lifted her head to meet his gaze, and his declaration died in his throat. Sitting on that bed, half-clothed, big brown eyes full of apprehension and concern, was the most important person in his life. She was his life, and there was a chance that she could be sick; that he could lose her.

"I..." he cleared his throat and, unable to deal with either his love or the fear that was now inextricably bound to it, said hurriedly, "Make sure you put something on your feet. It's going to get pretty chilly tonight."

"I will," she reassured him with an understanding smile. Harm nodded and rushed out of the room. Mac watched him go, the smile slipping from her face. When she was sure he was out of hearing, she whispered, "I love you, too."

She pulled on her pajama top, but when she went to button it, she found that her hands were trembling. As she pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them, all of the emotions she'd been suppressing slammed in to her, and all she could do was rock and back forth as she tried desperately to catch her breath. This wasn't happening. Not now, not when her life was finally getting close to what she'd always dreamed it would be. God couldn't be that cruel, could he?

No, she swore silently. She was not going to do this. She was not going to fall apart, and she was not going to jump to conclusions. It was probably nothing, just like they'd said. Just because they'd found a lump didn't mean she had breast cancer, and she wasn't going to assume the worst like she had so many times in the past. She was going to be positive; she was going to believe that everything would be fine until someone came along and showed her proof otherwise.

Mac lifted her head from her knees and let her legs slide to the floor. She took a couple of long, deep breaths and forced herself to a place of calm. She knew better than to think that her anxiety was going to go away just because she wanted it to, but she wasn't going to let it take over. She was a marine, and she was damn well going to act like one. With that in mind, she quickly finished buttoning her top and strode out to find Harm.

He wasn't in the kitchen, although their food was sitting on the table waiting. Instead, she found him lying on the floor in the living room, straining to get his arm underneath the sofa. Curious, she walked over to him.

"Harm, what are you doing?" she asked as she perched on the arm of the couch.

"Looking for Cocoa Puffs," came the muffled answer, and she frowned in confusion.

"Excuse me?" She said as she watched him slide his arm out and start to lift himself off of the floor.

"I had a little accident while I was bringing the groceries in," Harm admitted as he leaned back onto his heels and opened his hand to show her the half-dozen puffs he'd gathered. He shrugged sheepishly. "Your cereal was a casualty."

"I see," she responded sagely, but her attempt at seriousness was ruined by the twinkle in her eye. "Do you need some help?" she offered.

"No, I think I got most of them," he told her with a roll of his eyes. "We'll find any strays this weekend during the move." Standing up, he held out his hand to her. "Ready to eat?"

"Sure," she responded, taking his hand. Harm quickly shoved the cereal into it and forced her fingers into a fist, crushing it. Annoyed, she tried to fling the remains at him, but he ducked into the kitchen with a smirk. Mac just shook her head and, after rinsing off her hands in the sink, joined him at the table.

The roast beef sandwich he made her was excellent, as was the chicken noodle soup from the deli; but Mac found it impossible to force down more than a few mouthfuls of each. Harm managed even less than that, but neither one of them brought up the other's glaring lack of appetite as tension once again filled the space between them. Mac simply picked up the food and went into the kitchen to wrap it up to take to work tomorrow, while Harm headed over to the television to begin packing up the videos.

Mac finished with the food and decided that since she was already in the kitchen, she would finish packing up the dishes. She had just pulled out the newspaper to begin wrapping the glasses when Harm called out and asked her to come into the living room. Although there was nothing in his words or his tone to indicate that he was going to attempt a serious discussion, Mac hesitated. She just wanted to forget. Tomorrow, when it was time to call the doctor, time to give voice to what they had found, to what they feared; then she would deal with it. But tonight, she just wanted to pretend that it didn't exist; that they were just two people in love about to start their life together.

He called to her again, and she sighed and set the newspaper back on the counter. She made her way into the living room, entering just in time to see Harm push a movie into the VCR. When he saw her standing there, he picked up the remote and used it to motion her over to the sofa.

"Harm?" Mac didn't move, just stood there looking at him in confusion. "I thought we were going to pack?"

"I had a better idea," he told her. He moved over to the sofa and tucked himself into the corner before holding out his hand and motioning for her again. "Come here," he insisted, and she finally began to move towards him. He gave her a small but sincere smile.

"You and I are going to curl up on the sofa and watch a movie, and just forget about everything. Packing, moving, the outside world...everything." He hesitated for just a second, and then shook his head with a smile that was wider than the first, and only a little forced. "How does that sound?"

"It sounds perfect," she said sincerely, grateful that they were on the same page, and the tension between them melted. It amazed her how they managed to understand each other so well, and yet found themselves misunderstanding each other for so long. But she wasn't going to think about that now, she vowed as she sat down between his legs and let him pull her against his chest. She sighed, for this one moment she was perfectly content, and she was going to do her best to forget everything else and just cherish that.

She turned her head into his chest, inhaling the intoxicatingly familiar scent of him, before burrowing deeper into his arms and asking with only the mildest of curiosity, "What are we watching?"

Harm just tightened his arms around her and said mysteriously, "You'll see."

"Harm, don't tease," she scolded him, but Harm knew she wasn't serious. Teasing, smiling, laughing, those were exactly the things they needed right now. Tomorrow would be soon enough for the rest. Forcing himself to bury the last of those disquieting thoughts, he focused all of his attention on Mac as she peremptorily ordered him to tell her what they were watching.

He allowed himself a dramatic pause before saying grandly, "As you wish." He swung his arm out with a flourish, starting the movie. He knew the moment Mac figured out his hint, because she gave a very unmarinelike squeal of delight and leaned up to give him a big kiss.

"I thought you were never going to watch this again?" she teased as the credits for The Princess Bride rolled across the screen. It was Mac's favorite movie, although very few people actually knew that, and those that did were sworn to secrecy. After all, it didn't fit with her tough marine image. It didn't fit with Harm's tough flyboy image, either, which was the reason he vehemently denied any appreciation for the movie at all.

"I wasn't," he answered her question with a martyred air. "But I decided that for you, I'll suffer through it one last time."

"How big of you," she said sarcastically. She decided not to mention that he was the one who had bought her a new copy when her old one started to wear out. Or about that time she came home unexpectedly to find him engrossed in one of the dueling scenes, quoting the lines of both Mandy Patinkin and Cary Elwes. Instead, she just wrapped her hands around one of the arms encircling her waist and leaned back to enjoy the movie.

She barely made it past the credits before she fell asleep, exhausted by the day's events. Harm spent the first half hour or so trying to get lost in the movie, but soon realized it was hopeless. His mind refused to focus on anything but Mac, and the possibility that she could have...that she could be sick.

He glanced down at the head resting peacefully against his chest, and marveled again at how lucky he was to have her in his arms. So many times over the years, he had despaired of them ever moving beyond friendship. It had taken them so long, and they had been through so much to get where they were; he didn't want to think that it could be taken away already.

Mac whimpered and shifted a little in his arms, and he immediately focused all of his attention on her. Sliding one hand off of her hip, he reached up and began to stroke her hair to soothe her. For the longest time he just sat there holding her as he tried to convince himself that everything would be fine. He was still trying when a slight whine startled him out of his contemplation. He looked up and saw the blue screen on the television signaling that the movie was over. He quickly grabbed the remote from the coffee table, jostling Mac awake in the process.

"The movie over?" she murmured sleepily, curling herself up into an even tighter ball in his arms.

"Yeah. It's late, Mac," he whispered, gently pushing her up off of his chest. He held her arms until she steadied herself, before pressing his lips to her temple. "Time for bed."

"'kay." She mumbled as she got up and stumbled towards the bedroom. Halfway there, she realized that Harm wasn't following her and turned around. Rubbing her eyes, she asked, "You coming?"

Harm shook his head. "I'm not tired. I think I'm going to work on some of the packing." Although he tried to sound nonchalant about it, Mac could hear the tension in his voice and knew that the little bubble of forgetfulness they had enveloped themselves in had burst.

"Harm," she protested, knowing that if he didn't come to bed now, he wouldn't be coming at all. She didn't want that; the only reason she had fallen asleep on the sofa was because she could feel his arms around her. She needed his arms to help her feel safe, and she knew he needed the same thing from her. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw that he had already erected his walls, and there would be no dislodging them without a fight. Because she was too tired for that, she just sighed and said resignedly, "Don't stay up too late."

"I won't," he told her quickly, grateful that she wasn't going to push him. Looking into her eyes and seeing the worry and disbelief there, he tried to reassure her. "I promise I'll go to bed at a reasonable hour. Don't worry, okay? "

"Okay," she nodded softly, careful to hide her hurt at his words. He had said he would go to bed, not come to it, and she was sure she'd find him asleep on the couch in the morning. "I love you," she told him, hurrying to the bedroom before he could see her tears; his "I love you, too" falling on deaf ears.

JAG Headquarters
December 2, 2003
0930 EST

"Sir, are you alright?" Bud asked as he watched Harm shift uncomfortably in his seat for what seemed like the hundredth time since their meeting had started half an hour ago.

"I'm fine, Bud," Harm sighed as he rolled his head in another vain attempt to get rid of the stiffness in his neck. He caught Bud's disbelieving stare and admitted, "My body's a little too old to be sleeping on couches."

"Ah," Bud said understandingly. He knew all about sleeping on couches. "What did you do, sir?"

"Huh?" Harm looked at him in confusion. He saw the sympathetic look on Bud's face and realized the younger man had misunderstood. "Oh. We didn't have a fight, Bud. I was working on packing things up, and sat down on the couch to rest for a minute. Next thing I knew, it was morning and Mac was waking me up to get ready for work."

Bud laughed. "I've done that once or twice myself, sir, working on a big case," he confided to his mentor. "Was the Colonel mad?"

"Was I mad about what, Bud?" asked a familiar voice from the doorway. Harm looked up and saw Mac leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest and a look of curiosity on her face. Bud turned around in his chair and smiled.

"About the Commander falling asleep on the couch, ma'am," Bud explained, missing the way Mac stiffened a little at his question.

"No, I wasn't mad," she said, forcing a smile. Not mad, but hurt. Just because she had guessed that he would spend the night on the couch didn't make it feel better to wake up alone, knowing that Harm would rather sleep on something three sizes to small for him than join her in their bed.

She gave herself a little mental shake. There were more important things for the two of them to deal with than where Harm fell asleep last night. With that in mind, Mac turned to Bud. "Bud, could you give us a minute? There's something I need to talk over with the Commander before I head out to Bethesda."

"Of course, ma'am," Bud said agreeably, oblivious to the tension building in the room. He turned to Harm. "That is, if it's alright with you, sir."

"Sure, Bud." Harm handed him a file and added, "I'll come to your office when Mac and I are done so that we can finish up."

"Sounds good, sir. Ma'am." Bud nodded to them both and headed back to his office.

Harm waited just long enough for Mac to close his door before speaking. "Did you call the doctor?" he questioned her, leaning forward intently.

"Yes. She can fit me in this afternoon at 1300," Mac told him calmly. "I'll have to leave a little early, so we won't be able to have lunch together."

"That's okay. We can pick something up on the way to Bethesda," he said as she sat down across from him.

"We?" Mac asked, puzzled. "Harm, you can't come with me. You're in court this afternoon."

"Bud can handle it. It's a pretty cut and dried case." It wasn't really; that's why the Admiral had it assigned to both of them. But today was just opening statements; Bud could handle that by himself easily enough.

"And what were you planning on telling the Admiral?" she questioned pointedly.

"That you needed my help? I had to chase down a lead?" he said with a hopeful grin. Her expression didn't change, and he admitted with a sigh, "I'm not sure, okay? But I'll think of something."

"No, you won't." Mac leaned across the desk and took Harm's hand. "Harm, I appreciate that you want to come with. I really do. But it's not practical and it's not necessary."

"The hell it isn't," Harm declared forcefully. "I'm not letting you go through this alone."

"Harm, it's a first visit," she explained gently, trying to keep him calm. "All she's going to do is verify that there's something there and order more tests."

Harm glared at her accusingly. "I thought you didn't know what was going to happen?"

"I didn't," she replied, starting to get a little defensive at his tone. "I asked."

"Well, what if I have questions of my own?" Harm didn't mean for the question to come out so belligerently, but he couldn't help it. He was tired, he was sore, and although he refused to admit it, even to himself, he was terrified.

Mac, however, knew that he was afraid without him having to say a word, and it took the edge off of her anger. "Tell me what they are and I'll ask for you," she said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. He didn't look at all mollified, and Mac sighed. "Harm, be reasonable. If you come with me, all you'll be able to do is sit in the waiting room. What's the point?"

"The point is that I'll be doing something," he said stubbornly, pulling his hand away from her and crossing his arms over his chest. Mac thought he looked just like AJ Roberts did when he was about to throw a tantrum, and she had to literally bite her tongue not to tell him so.

"No, if you stay here you'll be doing something," she told him with exaggerated patience as her anger started to resurface. "Like your job. If you come with me, all you'll be doing is pacing back and forth and driving everyone around you crazy."

"So you don't want me to come with you," he said flatly. It was a statement, not a question, and Mac could see that he was no longer even attempting to listen to what she was trying to tell him.

"No, I don't," she shot back, fed up with his attitude. "Not when you're like this, I don't. I-"

"Fine," he cut off her abruptly. Picking up his file, he pushed angrily away from his desk.

Mac reached out and grabbed hold of his arm as he passed. "Harm-"

"No, you're right," he told her, pulling his arm away. "I have work to do; a lot of it. And since you don't need me, I should get back to it."

"I never said I didn't need you, Harm," she exclaimed in aggravation, unsure of how this had gotten out of control so quickly. She just needed him to sit down long enough for her to explain, but he had already opened his office door and was halfway into the hall.

"Damn it! Don't do this!" she called after him.

"I'm not doing anything. And that's your choice, not mine." His voice was cold. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go see Bud."

And with that parting shot he was gone. Mac collapsed back into her seat, and covered her face with her hands. This is not happening, she thought.

But it was happening, and she didn't know how to deal with it; how to deal with any of it. All she could do was hope that her doctor was going to give her some good news, so she wouldn't have to figure it out.

Continue to Part Seven