The Next Conflicting Phase
Part Eight
Harm had just finished starting a fire in the fireplace, and was now
leaning against the mantle, taking a moment to proudly survey his
new home. It really *was* a good house, he thought to himself. It
wasn't big or flashy, just a simple two-story in a quiet
neighborhood; but it was sturdy and comfortable. And despite the
lack of paint in some of the rooms, and the boxes still scattered
here and there, it was already home; thanks in large part to the
efforts of the people gathered around him.
Harm looked around the room. Harriet was sitting on the sofa,
feeding Jimmy and talking to Meredith and Jen about wedding plans.
He looked around for the elder of the Roberts children and was amused
to see him on his namesake's lap while the Admiral read him a story.
Upon closer inspection, he saw that little AJ's bedtime story was
actually one of Mac's dinosaur books, as the rest of the books were
still packed in their boxes. And it apparently wasn't one of the
more interesting dinosaur books in the world, if the way little AJ's
head was nodding on big AJ's shoulder was any indication. Of course,
it could just be that the little boy was worn out after a tough day
of helping lead the troops. Mac had, after much pestering and
begging on AJ's part, made her godson second in command, and had him
relaying orders to the adults on where everything went. He had been
a good XO, until he had decided that his little brother would best
service the operation by staying out of everyone's way while they
were working. At least, that's the explanation he gave his father
when Bud found Jimmy in one of the downstairs closets. Bud didn't
buy it, though, and little AJ was quickly demoted and sent to time
out.
Shifting his gaze with a smile, he saw Bud sitting at the dining room
table with Mikey, who had come up from Annapolis for the weekend.
They were talking quietly, neither one paying any attention to Bud's
prosthetic, which was lying on the table between them while Bud
worked out a cramp in his leg. Harm shook his head, amazed at how
quickly they had all adapted to Bud's injury, especially Bud
himself. He wasn't just bouncing back to his old self; he was
becoming a better lawyer and officer, a better man. It hadn't been
easy, though, and there had been more than a few bumps in the road.
His gaze automatically sought out Sturgis. He found him off by
himself in the living room, staring out the large picture window that
faced the back yard with a melancholy look on his face. He had been
true to his word, and had done his best to maintain a pleasant, if
somewhat reserved, attitude during the move. He seemed to be coming
out of his funk a little, although his relationship with Bud was
still strained and they had spent most of the day trying to stay out
of each other's way.
As he stood gazing thoughtfully at his oldest friend, he noticed Mac
come up and stand beside Sturgis, placing a hand lightly on his arm.
Sturgis didn't take his eyes from the window, but he did reach up and
cover her hand with one of his own. Mac rested her head against his
shoulder, and for a long moment, the two of them stood silently
looking out at the clear night sky. Then Mac raised her head, gave
his arm a quick squeeze, and headed off to the other room, probably
to go call and check on Mattie, who had missed out on the move thanks
to an ill-timed bout with the flu. Sturgis turned and watched her
go, a slight smile gracing his face. Harm shook his head, wondering
how Mac seemed to know just when to push Sturgis, and when to leave
him alone. It was a skill he didn't possess, his tendency was to
push until he got what he was looking for, but he was trying to
learn. And this past week dealing with Mac had presented him with
plenty of opportunities to do so, especially last night.
True to his word, he had picked her up after her biopsy, managing to
get there just as she was walking out of the doctor's office. When
he asked her how it went, she had shrugged and said that it was fine,
no worse than getting a blood test done. But she had been quiet and
withdrawn the whole way home, and he knew that there was more to it
than she was saying. It had taken every last ounce of strength not
to push her to tell him what was wrong. Instead, he had made small
talk, telling her about his day in court, his phone conversation with
Mattie, and the last minute details about the move. She had seemed
grateful for the distraction, and by the time they had gotten home
had seemed like her normal self. They had eaten dinner and finished
up what little packing was left before deciding to head off to bed
early. She had gotten quiet again then, and instead of changing in
front of him like she always did, she had taken her pajamas into the
bathroom. And when she finally joined him in bed, she had clung
tightly to him, something she hadn't done since this summer when she
was still having nightmares about Sadik. It worried him; however
they were so busy today that he hadn't had a chance to do more than
make sure she wasn't in any pain from yesterday's procedure. But as
he watched Mac end her phone conversation, he vowed that before they
went to bed that night, he was going to find out what had happened at
the doctor's yesterday to upset her so.
"No, Mrs. Patterson, don't bother to wake her. Just give her my love
and tell her to make sure she rests...Thank you...Bye."
Mac hung up the phone after assuring herself once again that Mattie
was all right. She was grateful to the Patterson's for taking such
good care of her, and for how well Mattie had been responding to
them. Especially considering the events of the past week.
Harm was worried about her, she knew; she could feel his eyes on her
from across the room. But she wasn't ready to talk to him yet,
especially not now, when they had a houseful of people. She didn't
want to talk about it at all; there was nothing he could do, and what
she told him would just cause him to worry more. But she knew that
he wouldn't let it drop, and a small, selfish part of her was
grateful for that. Although she had gotten used to carrying her
burdens alone over the years, it felt good to finally have someone
who was willing to share them with her. She just wished that it
didn't feel so one-sided. Since they'd begun their relationship, it
seemed like he was the one who was always having to take care of her,
and if she *was* sick, he would be doing it more than ever.
She also felt guilty because she knew that being sick would pretty
much tank their chances of getting guardianship of Mattie. She had
briefly considered stepping back so as not to jeopardize their
chances, but when she had mentioned the idea to Harm, he had quickly
vetoed that idea, reminding her of his vow not to let the situation
with Mattie come before their relationship. He had actually been
pretty angry with her for even suggesting it, an anger that she now
realized stemmed from his constant fear of losing her. She had never
quite understood how strong that fear was until she had been shot,
but once she had she did her best to reassure him that she
wasn't going anywhere. She wondered if she would still be able to do
that once the test results came back.
Finally compelled to turn around, Mac turned and saw that he was
still watching her, his eyes full of love and fear. Feeling her own
eyes fill with tears, she quickly turned away before she broke down,
taking a moment to regain her composure before heading over to sit
with Meredith and Harriet.
From his perch on the couch, holding a now sleeping AJ Roberts in his
arms, the Admiral watched the interaction between Harm and Mac with a
concerned eye. Although he doubted anyone at JAG realized it, he had
been watching them all as closely as possible since last summer. He
was determined not to let things get as out of control as they had
since Rabb's arrest for Singer's murder. And so he had noticed
almost immediately that something was off with his Chief of Staff and
his star attorney. At first he thought it was just stress from the
move; after all, it was a huge step for them and they were both
likely to be feeling a little anxious and overwhelmed. But as the
week went on, and he watched them together, he became convinced that
it was something else. There was tension between them, but it didn't
seem to be directed at each other. He wasn't sure what that left,
but whatever it was, it probably wasn't good. And that worried him.
Things were finally returning to normal at JAG, and as much as AJ
hated to admit it, that normalcy was due mostly to Harm's return. He
had honestly thought that things would get better without Harm
there. That without the constant disruptions of Harm's crusades and
Peter Pan quests, life at JAG would run more smoothly. How wrong he
had been. AJ had underestimated how large a role Harm played in
keeping JAG steady and stable; but it became clear to him rather
quickly that Rabb's absence had thrown the entire office off-
balance. Since his return, things were slowly returning to an even
keel, and AJ intended to make sure they stayed that way.
Before the Admiral could do more than wonder whether he should pull
Harm and Mac aside to find out what was wrong, little AJ woke up from
his nap and proceeded to throw a rather large temper tantrum.
Realizing that they needed to get their kids home, Bud quickly moved
to take AJ from his C.O. as Harriet went to put Jimmy in his
carrier. Taking that as their cue, everyone else began to pack up
and head for home. Soon, after thanking everyone for their help and
seeing them out to their cars, Harm and Mac were left alone in their
new house.
By unspoken agreement, they walked the house together that first
night, moving through the rooms arm in arm while checking locks and
turning out lights before heading up the stairs to bed. Once in
their new bedroom, Harm quickly shed his clothes and slipped on his
pajama pants. Mac stayed in the room this time to change, but turned
her back so that he couldn't see the small bandage covering her left
breast. She knew that he wouldn't care; except for a slight bruise
there really wasn't anything for him to see. But she still didn't
want him to look, because it was just another reminder of the dark
cloud hanging over their heads. Changing quickly, she slid silently
into bed. Harm tried to think of a way to start the conversation,
but in the end she saved him the trouble.
"When the doctor inserted the needle to withdraw the cells, she found
out that the mass was solid," she told him quietly, her eyes fixed on
her hands as they clutched the comforter. She didn't explain any
further; she didn't need to. She and Harm had read and reread the
material the doctor had given her enough times to know what a solid
mass meant. A fluid filled mass was a cyst; this was definitely a
tumor.
Harm said nothing, just reached out and grabbed hold of her hand.
After two full minutes of silence, Mac tried to reassure him. "It
doesn't mean that it's cancer," she said, trying to inject a hopeful
note into her voice. "There's still a very good chance that the tumor
is benign, so there's really no more reason to worry than before."
"If that's true," Harm responded, turning to stare pointedly at
her, "why didn't you tell me about it yesterday?"
She met his gaze unflinchingly. "Because," she answered
honestly, "just because there's no reason to worry, doesn't mean
you're going to stop worrying."
"No, it doesn't," Harm conceded, looking down at their joined
hands. "I can't help but worry about you, Mac."
"I know. And I love you for it." She lifted her free hand and
cupped his face, gently urging him to meet her gaze. "I worry, too,
Harm. It's normal. I just don't want it taking over our lives.
We've both spent most of our lives expecting the worst to happen, and
I don't want us to do that anymore. I want to believe that this is
nothing, just a scare that we'll look back on six months from now and
wonder why we panicked."
"I understand that, Mac. I do," he insisted, before adding
firmly, "But I can't do that if I know you're keeping something from
me."
Mac hung her head, and whispered remorsefully, "I'm sorry. I didn't
mean to make things worse."
"I know," he assured her. "Come here," he said, sliding his arms
around her and pulling her to him.
"I want to believe that this is nothing, too," he told her softly,
tucking her head in the crook of his neck. He pressed a kiss to her
hair. "So that's what we'll do. We'll believe that things are going
to work out until-unless-" he corrected quickly, giving her a tight
squeeze, "someone tells us otherwise. Okay?"
"Okay," she agreed. She lifted her head and leaned up to kiss him
gently. "I love you."
"I love you, too," he smiled. He released her to reach over and
switch off the bedside lamp. Sliding down, he made himself
comfortable and drew her back into his arms. "Let's get some sleep."
But despite their vow not to worry, to believe that everything would
be fine, it was a long time before either one of them slept that
night.
"It's been five days, Mac!" he said loudly, pacing back and forth as
best he could in his tiny office. "It was five days yesterday."
"I realize that, Harm," she answered pointedly. She gestured to the
receiver propped between her shoulder and her ear. "That's why I'm
on the phone with the doctor. To find out what's happening. And it
would be a lot easier to do if you would just calm down."
"Fine." He flopped down into his chair, scowling furiously. He
didn't understand how she could be so calm about this. Not only were
they a day late in calling, but Mac had spent the last half-hour
being transferred or put on hold. So now they were stuck in his
little hole in the wall office, chosen because they were less likely
to be interrupted and overheard, waiting for someone to give them
vital information about their future.
Mac understood Harm's frustration; she felt the same way, she was
just better at hiding it. But she hadn't gotten more than a couple
hours of sleep last night, and she only forced down her breakfast
because Harm was watching her so intently. She didn't want to feed
his worries with her own. Still, she had spent the morning
alternating between anger that the doctor hadn't called and relief
that she wouldn't have to hear what the doctor had to say. Of
course, her doctor wasn't there today, and after thirty-four minutes of
waiting for someone to get her answers, anger was rapidly winning out
over relief.
A voice on the other end of the line startled her out of her
thoughts. "Yes, I was calling to find out the results of a biopsy I
had done on Friday," she told the Lieutenant on the other end of the
phone, and felt her temper rise when she heard the phrase `I'll have
to transfer you' yet again. She took a deep breath and explained
with admirable calm, "No, I've already talked to them, and they told
me to talk to you."
Harm watched as her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Yes, I understand
that these things take time," she said in that low, overly calm voice
that usually signaled an impending meltdown, "but I was told that I'd
have the results in no more than five days. It's been six." She
listened again, her face flushing with anger.
"Look," she finally snapped, cutting the other woman off
abruptly, "I've been transferred or put on hold for the last thirty-
seven minutes. I either want to know what the results of my biopsy
were, or how long I have to wait before they're ready." She waited
until the Lieutenant agreed to go find out the results.
"Thank you," she said with exaggerated patience, rolling her eyes at
Harm. "The last name is Mackenzie, first name Sarah. Yes, I'll hold."
"What's going on?" Harm asked impatiently, rolling a pen nervously
back and forth between his hands.
Although she was still on hold, Mac put her hand over the mouthpiece
before answering. "She's checking on the status of the tests."
"What the hell does that mean?" he exclaimed, throwing the pen down
on the desk. How much longer was he expected to wait to get some
answers?
"It means they're checking the status of the tests, Harm!" Mac shot
back angrily, unable to control her frustration with him anymore.
They glared at each other for a long moment, until Harm finally
backed down.
"I'm sorry," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. He ran his hands
over his face. "I'm just frustrated. I'm not built to handle all
this waiting around and doing nothing."
"Really?" Mac asked with an exaggerated drawl. She arched an eyebrow
at him. "I hadn't noticed."
"Cute, Marine." He gave her a wry little smile, but it quickly faded
as he added seriously, "You can't tell me that you're not the least
bit upset about this."
"Of course I am," she told him. "I just don't think that blowing a
gasket is going to serve any purpose. I'd rather-" she cut off
abruptly, straightening in her chair. "Yes, I'm still here," she
told the voice on the other end of the phone.
Harm watched as all the color drained from her face. His heart began
to pound in his chest, and he leaned forward, bracing his arms on the
desk as he waited for the worst. He was caught by surprise when he
heard her ask incredulously, "What do you mean; misplaced? How does
that happen?"
That was not at all what he expected to hear. He let the words sink
in. Misplaced? She couldn't mean that they'd misplaced the results
of her biopsy. That was just not possible.
Unfortunately for them both, it was very possible. Mac listened with
growing dismay to the hapless Lieutenant's timid attempts at
appeasement. "No, I don't want another appointment," she said
angrily, "I want you to find my test results!"
Harm listened to Mac's side of the conversation in disbelief. They
had actually lost Mac's test results. Test results that would tell them whether or not she had cancer, and they lost them. Frozen in shock, he sat numbly and waited for Mac to finish.
"Fine. I will make another appointment," she finally conceded, "but
in the meantime, I expect you to continue looking for the original
results�Yes, that's fine. 0930. I'll be there�Yes, I'm sure you are."
Mac slammed the phone back into its cradle. She dropped her head
onto Harm's desk, and tried to wrap her mind around the latest
developments, grateful when she felt Harm's hand brush against her
hair. She allowed herself one brief moment of comfort before
informing him of this latest setback.
"They lost the results," she said, her voice a mix of bitterness and
weary resignation. "They're going to keep looking for them, but in
the meantime, I have another appointment scheduled for Saturday
morning."
"You're kidding me." Even as the words left his mouth, Harm was
kicking himself for saying something so stupid. He just couldn't get
his brain to accept that this wasn't some cruel, elaborate hoax.
Mac raised her head from the desk and glared at him. "Do I look like
I'm kidding?"
"Well, this is unacceptable." He kicked his chair out and stood
up. "I'm going down there right now," he informed her angrily,
heading for the door.
Mac reached out and caught hold of his arm. "Harm, would you please
calm down?" she pleaded. She could feel a dull throbbing pain start
behind her eyes.
"No, I won't calm down!" he told her forcefully, shaking his arm free
but making no further move towards the door. "This should never have
happened, and it needs to be fixed."
"And they're trying to fix it," she sighed wearily, rubbing her
temples. "So why don't you just let them?"
"Because I don't trust them; they're the ones who lost the results in
the first place!" He stepped in front of her chair and looked down
at her in frustration. He knew he was probably overreacting just
like he had when she told him about the original biopsy, but he
couldn't help it. He hated this; the waiting and the worrying and
the helplessness, and seeing her sitting there so calmly was only
making it worse. "How can this not upset you the least little bit?"
"You think this doesn't upset me?" she asked quietly, but her voice
was so full of rage that Harm instinctively took a step back. "You
think it doesn't upset me that I've waited six days for nothing?"
She pushed her way out of the chair. "You think it doesn't upset me
that I have to go and have another needle stuck into my breast?" she
continued, jabbing a trembling finger against his chest to emphasize
her point. "That I'll have another bandage and another bruise?"
Her breath hitched and her throat tightened, but she forced out the
next words. "You think it doesn't upset me to know that I'll have to
wait another week or more for someone to call me up and tell me I'm
going to -"
"Don't!" Harm cut her off, unwilling to allow her to give voice to
his worst fear. He reached out and grabbed hold of her arms, pulling
her body, still trembling with rage and fear, to him. "Don't you
dare finish that sentence!" he whispered fiercely.
The moment he drew her into his arms she sagged against him; her
anger was gone, leaving behind only exhaustion and fear. She looked
up at him with tear-filled eyes. She was trying so hard to stay
positive, but the thought of another week of waiting and worrying was
too much for her battered defenses. "But what if I-"
"No." Harm placed a finger over her lips and shook his head. "We're
not going to do this, Mac. We're not going to fall apart," he told
her firmly. He reached up and brushed away the lone tear trailing
down her cheek. "We're not going to assume the worst, okay?"
"Okay," she agreed, and managed to give him a teary smile. But the
smile quickly faded and she wrapped her arms around him. "I'm
scared, Harm," she admitted softly, before burying her face in his
chest.
"I know, baby. I know," he whispered, holding her tightly as she
fought to keep from breaking down. He wanted more than anything to
promise her that it was going to be fine; that she was going to be
fine. But he didn't make promises he couldn't keep; and despite what
he had just told her, he wasn't at all sure that he could keep that
one.
December 6, 2003
Rabb/Mackenzie residence
Alexandria, VA
2015 EST
It had taken them the entire day and well into the evening, but the
JAG crew had managed to move everything from Harm and Mac's
apartments into their new house, and had even gotten a significant
portion of it unpacked. Now they were sitting scattered throughout
the living and dining rooms, eating and relaxing and just truly
enjoying each other's company for the first time in a long while.
December 11, 2003
JAG Headquarters
1230 EST
Harm's well-intentioned vow not to worry lasted the rest of the
weekend, but by Tuesday it had begun to falter. He knew that the
doctor said it would probably take five days, but that didn't make
the waiting any easier. By Wednesday, exactly five days after Mac's
biopsy, he was spending his day trying to come up with any excuse to
go visit Mac's office and check and see if she'd gotten the call.
But Wednesday passed and they didn't hear anything and now, halfway
through Thursday, Harm's patience had worn out.