The Next Conflicting Phase
Part Twenty-Four
All too soon it was time to turn around and head for home, but he vowed that he would start doing this more often; and when Mac felt up to it, he would drag her along to enjoy it with him. When he reached the house, he stopped to clear off the driveway and then made his way inside. He took a few minutes to cool down and then went into the kitchen to heat up some oatmeal. While he was in there, he cut up some fruit for Mac and placed it on a plate with a bagel and set it back in the refrigerator next to a container of yogurt. It wasn�t her normal breakfast, but with her appetite as low as it was these days, it was all she could stomach.
When his oatmeal was ready, he took it to the kitchen table with a glass of orange juice and the paper. Flipping idly through the pages, he checked out basketball scores and the weather, deliberately steering clear of anything too serious or heavy so he wouldn�t spoil the positive mood he had going. After finishing breakfast, he rinsed off his dishes and headed back upstairs to get ready.
Moving as quietly as possible, he cleaned up and got into his uniform. Then he dug through the laundry basket for the clothes that Mac wanted to wear today and touched them up before laying them out on a chair for her. Finally, when all that was finished, he stepped over to Mac�s side of the bed and eased himself down to sit on the edge.
She was sleeping peacefully, a rare occurrence these days. The stiffness in her shoulder, and the increasing irritation from the radiation was making it difficult for her to get comfortable, so he was grateful for every night she made it through with a minimum of discomfort. Reaching out, he brushed a stray strand of hair off her forehead before leaning down and brushing his lips against hers. Resisting the urge to deepen the kiss, not wanting to wake her up, he leaned back and started to rise from the bed. He had almost managed to stand up completely when Mac stirred, her eyes fluttering open to stare up at him.
�You leaving?� she asked, stifling a yawn. Harm nodded, and she rubbed her eyes before pushing herself up into a sitting position. �I�ll walk you out. I need to get up anyway.�
�No, actually you don�t,� Harm countered, gently pushing her back down. �I got your clothes out for you, the driveway�s clear for the Lexus, and breakfast is ready in the kitchen. So you can sleep for another forty-five minutes.�
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then tucked the covers tightly around her. Looking around, he saw Max lying on the floor next to the nightstand and picked him up, setting him in the crook of her arm. �Go back to sleep, Mac. I�ll call you at lunchtime.�
He waited just long enough to watch Mac curl up around her bear and drift back to sleep before getting up and quietly making his way out of the room. Once downstairs, he grabbed his briefcase and cover and headed out to his car. As he pulled out of the driveway, he flipped on the stereo and started tapping his hands on the steering wheel in time to the music, and before he realized it, he was pulling into Headquarters. Sliding out of his car, he put his cover on, grabbed his briefcase and headed inside, still whistling along to the music he�d just turned off. He had just climbed the steps when he noticed Petty Officer Coates behind him, so he stopped and waited for her to catch up.
�Morning, Jen,� he said, smiling cheerfully at her as they made their way inside. Jen grinned back.
�Good morning, sir. You�re in a good mood this morning.�
�Just enjoying the beautiful day, Petty Officer,� he told her, holding open the elevator door. �How�s the new apartment? Your new roommates a little better than the last?�
�More than a little, sir,� she responded as the doors closed. They spent the short ride up making small talk about Jen�s new living situation, and then Jen headed off to her desk and Harm veered away from the bullpen to his office. He set down his cover and briefcase and then went to the break room to grab a quick cup of coffee. It ended up not being so quick, because he stopped to say hi to quite a few people, but the friendly conversations about nothing special left him feeling even better than when he�d walked in. By the time he made it back to his office he was whistling again, and not even the large stack of files on his desk could dampen his spirits. Sitting down in his chair, he grabbed the top file on the stack, determined to get through as much paperwork as he could before lunch.
Reaching out to grab a pen, he stopped to take a sip of coffee. It wasn�t the best he�d ever had by a long shot, but it had been so long since he�d had any that he didn�t care. Since Mac had been forced to cut caffeine out of her diet, he had abstained from drinking it whenever she was around so that she wouldn�t feel worse about not having any herself. Between working and living together, that meant he hadn�t had a cup of coffee since he got back from Europe, and he was savoring it now. He decided he would stop at Starbucks at lunch as well; might as well take advantage of Mac�s absence while he could.
That seemingly random thought froze Harm in his tracks. Suddenly, the reason he was so damn happy this morning became startlingly clear � it was because he felt free. For the first time in months, he had eight hours where he could just be Commander Harmon Rabb, lawyer and aviator; he didn�t have to deal with cancer, or radiation and side effects, or...Mac. God help him, but he was glad to be away from Mac, to not have to deal with her illness for just one day, and now that he realized it, he felt guilty as hell. And rushing in right on the heels of that guilt was resentment.
Why did he have to feel guilty? Why should he feel bad about feeling good for once? About enjoying a cup of coffee or talking to the rest of the staff about things normal people talked about � sports and music and the weather � instead of having every conversation focus on Mac�s condition and how they were coping with it, and how difficult it must be for her, and how strong she was. And all the time they talked about it, no one ever asked him how he was coping. No one acknowledged how difficult it was for him to stand by and watch helplessly as every day she got more tired and was in more pain. No one thought anything of how much strength it took for him to get through every day, trying to do his job to the best of his abilities when all he could think about was Mac. So why should he feel guilty about them finally noticing him, even if it was just to ask if he�d seen last night�s basketball game? Why couldn�t he just enjoy the fact that he could get away from it all for just one day?
Because Mac can�t get away from it, his conscience reprimanded him. Mac can�t just go somewhere and be free of it for a while. She has to deal with it twenty-four seven. She�s suffering, and you�re here enjoying your coffee and your mindless chitchat.
Harm sighed and dropped his head wearily into his hands. That little voice in his head was right; why should he get to forget about it when Mac couldn�t? But he needed to forget about it; he needed a chance to take a breath and regroup, and he couldn�t do that with Mac around. He couldn�t forget when he looked into her tired eyes and listened to her try to convince them both that she was going to be all right. And he didn�t even know if he had the right to forget.
Harm sat at his desk for the better part of an hour, trying to work things out in his head, but he only kept going in circles. By the time Jen called and told him the Admiral wanted to see him to discuss one of his cases, Harm�s mood had completely plummeted. He walked into AJ�s office with a barely concealed scowl on his face and asked tersely, �You wanted to see me, sir?�
If AJ noticed the Commander�s bad mood, he didn�t comment on it. Gesturing for him to sit down, he asked Harm for an update. Harm gave him a brief summary and then answered the Admiral�s remaining questions, his responses brief and to the point. They finished up soon enough, and Harm waited for the Admiral to dismiss him so he could go back to his office and stew in peace, but AJ had other ideas. It was obvious that Harm was upset, and he wanted to know what was causing it; he just had to figure out the best way to deal with it.
After a few minutes of tense silence, Harm couldn�t take it anymore and asked the Admiral impatiently, �Is there something else, sir?�
AJ frowned at Harm�s tone, and decided that the best thing to do was just to start talking and see what happened. �I was just wondering if you had a twin running around, or if maybe Palmer escaped again.�
�Sir?�
�Well, according to Petty Officer Coates, you were in a very good mood this morning. I believe she said that she hadn�t seen you that happy in months. And I have to say, Commander, if this is what your good mood looks like these days, I definitely don�t want to see your bad one.� He gave Harm a penetrating look and bluntly asked, �What�s wrong?�
�Nothing�s wrong, sir. I�m fine.�
�Uh huh,� AJ said disbelievingly. �Are you worried about Mac?�
�Of course I am,� Harm muttered just loud enough for AJ to hear. �Aren�t I always?�
And with that one statement, AJ understood not only what had caused his initial good mood, but also what had caused it to disappear. Harm was relieved to be getting away from the stress of Mac�s illness for a while, and he hated himself for it.
AJ felt guilt of his own at the realization. He had promised himself when he first found out about the cancer that he would keep an eye on both of them, make sure they were both dealing with everything okay. He knew that in some ways it would be even harder on Harm than on Mac, because he was the one who had to stand by and do nothing while Mac dealt with everything. He could do things to help, but he could never take the burden from her completely. Moreover, while Mac was allowed to cry and get angry and break down, he was expected to bear his own burden silently. Which was exactly what Harm did, and because he did it so well it became easy for everyone, including AJ, to forget that Harm was suffering as well. A mistake AJ intended on rectifying immediately.
AJ looked at Harm closely, noting the tired, pained look in his eyes, and decided that the first thing he could do to make up for his inattention was to reassure the younger man that he didn�t need to feel guilty for looking after himself once in a while. Pulling his glasses off and tossing them carelessly on the desk, he gave Harm a long look and said, �You know, I bet Mac isn�t all that worried right about now.�
�Sir?� Harm asked, looking perplexed. AJ leaned forward and tried to explain.
�Think about it, Harm. For the first time since her treatments started, she gets to sleep in a little. She doesn�t have to put on an uncomfortable uniform, or come into work and get stared at and pitied, and she doesn�t have to deal with a bunch of mind numbing paperwork.� He gave Harm a knowing look and added, �And she�s probably also just a little bit relieved that she doesn�t have to deal with you and your worrying.�
From the flash of surprise that crossed Harm�s face, AJ could tell that the thought that Mac could be feeling some relief of her own at their separation hadn�t occurred to him.
�You really think so?�
�Yes, I do,� he answered honestly. He stood up and moved around his desk to take the seat next to Harm. �Harm, it�s okay to be glad that you don�t have to deal with things for awhile. Just because you and Mac love each other, doesn�t mean you couldn�t both use a little time apart, to not have to worry about what the other�s going to do or say or think. To only have to worry about yourselves for a little while.�
The frown lines around Harm�s mouth eased a little. �But what if she needs me?�
AJ shrugged a little. �Then she�ll call you and let you know, and you�ll be there ready to help her. Just like she�s ready to be there for you. Until then, you can both relax a little and enjoy the time to yourselves.�
For the first time since he�d entered the Admiral�s office, Harm smiled. �I don�t know how much enjoyment she�s going to get at home, being sore and having to take it easy,� he confided, remembering Mac�s complaints from the day before.
�Oh, I�d say she�ll get as least as much as you�re going to get at work having to deal with an idiot client who�s guilty as sin and won�t take a plea bargain,� AJ countered, looking pointedly at the file in Harm�s lap. Now that he�d eased Harm�s mind about Mac, it seemed like a good time to remind him that he still had work to do.
�Point taken,� Harm answered wryly, rolling his eyes at the thought of the stubborn petty officer that was refusing to see reason. �Permission to be excused so I can try one last time to convince said client to take the deal being offered?�
�Granted,� AJ told him, getting up and moving back to his chair.
Harm stood as well, and headed purposefully for the door, determined to make the most of the day ahead of him. He put his hand on the knob and then hesitated. Turning back to the Admiral, he said quietly but sincerely, �Thank you, sir.�
�You�re welcome,� AJ answered gruffly. �Get to work.�
�Aye, aye, sir,� Harm responded. As he exited AJ�s office, he couldn�t help but grin. It was nice to see that despite his new penchant for engaging in personal conversations, the Admiral was still the Admiral. Shaking his head in amusement, he crossed the bullpen and headed back to his tiny corner office.
He entered the house quietly, not wanting to disturb her if she was resting, only to find her sitting at her desk in the office staring intently at a bunch of pictures scattered around her. Curious, he set his briefcase outside the door and stepped inside.
�What are you doing?� he asked as he moved over to the desk, causing Mac to nearly jump out of her chair in surprise.
�Jeez, Harm!� she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest in an attempt to calm her racing heart, �You scared the hell out of me!�
�Sorry,� he apologized. He scooted around the desk to stand next to her, bending down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. �I didn�t mean to startle you. You okay?�
She took a couple of deep breaths and said, �Yeah, I�m fine. And I didn�t mean to yell; I just wasn�t expecting you home for at least another thirty minutes.�
�I finished up a little early, so I thought I�d come home and see if you were up to going out to dinner,� he explained nonchalantly. �What do you say?�
She shook her head with a smile; she knew that his coming home early was more about checking up on her than about going to dinner, but she wasn�t going to call him on it. Especially since she knew she had been a little distant when he�d called that afternoon. She hadn�t meant to; she�d just had a lot on her mind, and she hadn�t wanted to get into it with him on the phone. Actually, she didn�t want to get into it now, either, so she decided to take him up on his offer.
�I say that sounds good,� she told him, and began to scoop up the photos still scattered on the desk. �Just let me put these away.�
�What are they?� Harm asked curiously.
�Pictures,� Mac deadpanned, and Harm rolled his eyes. When he crossed his arms over his chest expectantly, she knew he wasn�t going to let it go until he had a better answer. Sighing, she looked down at the photos in her hand. �I got these developed today, and I thought I would get one of those picture frames with the three sides and put a picture of the two of us in the middle, and then one of each of us with your mom on either side and send it to her,� she shrugged. �As a thank you for everything she�s done.�
Harm followed her gaze downwards, and he smiled as he took a closer look at the photos. She had already chosen the one of the two of them together; it was a shot of them in profile, with Harm�s arms wrapped tightly around her, and her head resting against his chest. Trish had taken it the night before she left, when she went looking for them and found them standing on the back porch, watching the sunset. There was also a good one of Trish and Mac, taken at what he guessed was the camera shop. Mac had mentioned that she had asked one of the clerks to take one of the two of them after the camera had been bought and paid for.
It appeared that the only one she hadn�t chosen was the one of him and his mom, and he had a feeling he knew why that was. Mac had taken all of those pictures, and he was certain that she was finding flaws in each of them with her overly self-critical eyes. There was already a pile of rejects; he could tell by the way they were carelessly tossed off to the side. Another pile was what he assumed were the remaining choices. There looked to be three of them, but he couldn�t see any of them clearly, so he plucked them off the desk before she could protest and began to examine them to see which one he thought was the best.
Staring at the first picture, he was once again amazed by Mac�s talent. Even though it was a posed shot, taken in front of the house one morning as they were rushing out the door, both he and Trish looked relaxed and happy. The same was true of the second shot, which was similar to the first, except that this time they were sitting on the steps of the Jefferson Memorial. Each time, Mac had positioned them and fussed with lighting and focus, but neither time did they look stiff or uncomfortable. Setting them aside, he picked up the last photo, wondering if it would be similar to the first two, either of which would be perfect to send to his mother. But as he laid his eyes on this picture, he saw that the candid shot in his hand was nothing like the others, and his heart constricted with emotion when he remembered the moment that Mac had captured so perfectly on film.
When Trish had gotten the call the Friday after he�d returned from California telling her she needed to come back and deal with a crisis at the gallery, all three of them had been disappointed; and Trish had quickly decided that work could do without her for one more day so that they could at least have Saturday to spend together as a family. Which was exactly what they did; getting up early that morning and enjoying a leisurely breakfast before going out to hit all the tourist spots that Trish had missed this visit. That was where the picture in front of the Jefferson Memorial had come from, and Harm was sure there were some in there of him dragging the two women in his life through the Air and Space Museum, explaining different aeronautical concepts in enough detail to bore them silly. Of course, Mac had paid him back with an extensive visit to the Natural History museum, where he and Trish had listened for the better part of an hour about the life of your average brachiosaurus before finally throwing up their hands and heading off to wander through the gift shop. Well, Harm had thrown up his hands; Trish had just laughed at them both, amused and delighted by his and Mac�s playful interactions.
It had been such a wonderful day, and they�d had so much fun, that when Trish had quietly pulled him aside on their way out of the museum to ask him to take her to the Wall, he�d damn near tripped over his own feet in shock. In all the years he�d lived in D.C., and all the times his mother had come to visit him, she had never once gone there. In fact, the one time he�d suggested it, she�d closed off so immediately and so completely that he�d never asked again. It had upset him in the beginning; he had felt like she was refusing to acknowledge his father at all. It wasn�t until that conversation they�d had after he�d come back from Russia the second time, when she�d admitted to holding back a part of herself all those years in the hopes that her husband would return, that he�d begun to understand what she was going through. And as the time had passed, and he watched her deal with the news of Sergei, and as he began to understand through his own relationship with Mac just how much pain she must have suffered all those years without his father, he�d finally come to accept that he had to let her deal with her grief in her own way; just as she had done for him all these years. So when she told him she was finally ready to visit the Memorial, he didn�t bother to ask why or if she was sure, he just asked if she wanted any company.
The walk from the museum to the Wall had been long and silent, with Harm and Mac walking on either side of Trish, doing their best to lend her their support. When they were finally within sight of it, Mac had released her hold of Trish�s hand and fallen back a little, knowing that this was something that mother and son had to do together. She had watched as Harm slowly led his mother up to the panel bearing Harm Sr.�s name, and then move to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders in comfort and support.
They stood like that for the longest time, still as statues, until finally Trish lifted one gloved hand up to her lips and then pressed it against the letters etched into the black stone. And it was that moment that Mac had captured on film; Trish, with one hand touching the wall and the other covering her son�s hand on her shoulder; and Harm, leaning his face against her hair, both giving comfort and drawing strength. He felt his throat tighten as he looked at it, remembering the pain and relief he had felt while standing there. For the first time, he and his mother were able to grieve together for their loss, and in doing so, they were both able to finally and completely move on; ready to forge a relationship based on the present and future instead of the past.
�Harm?� Mac called out softly to him after she had watched him stare wordlessly at the picture for over two minutes, worried that she had upset him by letting him see the picture. She shouldn�t have even considered using it; it was obviously too painful for Harm, and would probably be just as painful for Trish. But she hadn�t been able to put it aside completely; there was something about that photo that just seemed to capture mother and son and their relationship so perfectly. Maybe that was the problem with it, though � it captured too much.
Standing quickly, ignoring the flash of pain that shot through her shoulder, she stepped over to Harm and put a hesitant hand on his forearm. She started to apologize for upsetting him, but he shook his head to stop her, reaching out with his free hand to cover hers.
�It�s an amazing picture, Mac,� Harm told her quietly, his voice throbbing with unshed tears. �You have a gift.�
Mac blushed furiously. �You�re biased,� she countered with an embarrassed shrug. Trying to ease the tension in the room, she changed the subject. �Do you want to grab some dinner now? We can decide on a picture later.�
�No, not unless you�re hungry right now,� Harm told her, and Mac shook her head. He gazed thoughtfully at her for a moment before saying, �Do you know what I want?�
�What?�
�I want to know why you do that.� Mac frowned in puzzlement, clearing not understanding what he was talking about. He turned her around so they were facing each other and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.
�I want to know why every time I tell you how good you are at this,� he lifted the hand that still held the photo, �you try and brush it aside or tell me I�m wrong, or change the subject. Why is it so hard to accept that you really do have a gift for taking pictures?�
�Harm, just let it go-�
Harm shook his head. �No, Mac. I�m not going to let it go. I�m not the only one who thinks you�re good at this; Mom agreed, and she wouldn�t have said it if she didn�t mean it. But I think you know that,� Harm said, watching as Mac�s gaze dropped to the floor. �You just don�t want to acknowledge it, which I don�t understand at all. It�s obvious you love to take pictures.�
�All right,� Mac conceded with a soft sigh; she had known that sooner or later Harm was going to push her to talk about her attitude on this subject. She just wished he could have waited until she had figured out what to say. Pulling herself gently from Harm�s grasp, she moved back to the desk and sat down. She lifted up one of the pictures of Harm in front of the Air and Space Museum and began to idly pick apart the composition while deciding the best place to begin.
�I got my first camera for Christmas when I was ten,� she finally said, still looking at the picture. �It was one of those cheap kid�s cameras; you know, the ones that only cost about ten bucks so it didn�t really matter if it broke?�
Harm nodded as he moved over and sat on the edge of the desk. �I had one of those, too. Mom bought one for me to take on a field trip to the zoo. Broke it before we passed the gift shop,� he reminisced fondly.
A small smile darted across Mac�s face. �Figures,� she told him, and continued with her story. �I didn�t break mine; I treated it like the Hope diamond. And I took pictures of everything. I even took it to school; until my teacher called my mother and told her I couldn�t bring it anymore because I wasn�t paying attention to anything else. My mom told her it was just a phase, and that I would grow out of it by the time summer came around.�
�But I didn�t grow out of it; in fact, the more time went on, the more obsessed I got. I�d go to the library and read books and magazines about photography, and I even saved up any money I got to buy myself a regular camera. In the end, my dad ended up giving me one that belonged to my grandfather. It wasn�t the best, but it was a heck of a lot better than my cheap kids one, and I loved it.�
Mac smiled as she remembered that old camera, and how grown up it had made her feel to take pictures with it. She had loved to roam around the neighborhood, pretending that she was one of those photographers in the magazines, capturing pictures of exotic places or famous people.
Caught up in the memories, she forgot that Harm was still in the room until he commented, �That was nice of him. Your father,� he clarified, when she looked up at him in confusion, �giving you the camera.�
Mac shrugged. �I guess,� she answered noncommittally. �He always complained about me taking pictures, mostly how much it cost to get them developed, but it kept me out of trouble and out of his way, so he let me do it.� She shrugged again. �Anyway. The summer before I started junior high, I found this photography class at the community center that I begged my parents to let me take. But my father said no, because it was a regular class, not one for kids. I told him that I had gone there and asked, and that I could take the class even if I wasn�t an adult. I think that was what finally proved to both of them how serious I was about it; that I was willing to go out and interact with strangers.�
Harm nodded understandingly. Although she�d learned to hide it under her tough as nails Marine persona, he knew that Mac had been a painfully shy child. So for a little girl whose main focus was trying to be as invisible as possible, to seek out a class where she would undoubtedly be the center of attention showed just how important it was to her.
�So they let you take the class?�
She shook her head. �Not at first; they said it was too much money. But then Uncle Matt came to visit for a couple of weeks, and he paid for the class as a birthday present for me. After that, my father didn�t have any real reason to refuse.� A soft, sweet smile crossed Mac�s face; the first Harm had seen when she�d talked about her childhood. �That was one of the best summers of my life; certainly the best one of my childhood. I loved that class, and the instructor. She also taught at the high school, and she was a wonderful photographer. She had worked for a magazine for a while, before she decided that she wanted to teach. She really knew her stuff, though.�
�And what did she think of you and your stuff?� Harm asked curiously, and Mac blushed.
�She thought I was good,� she admitted with a shy smile. �She said that if I kept working at it, I could make a career out of it. She even entered one of my photos in a contest, and I got second place. I won a hundred dollars. I don�t think I�d ever been so happy. It really kept me going, you know? When things got really bad at home, I could grab my camera and escape. That�s what it was going to be � my escape. I really believed that I could do it. That I could make a career out of it; get out and see the world, and really make something out of myself. Be more than just Joe Mackenzie�s stupid tramp daughter.�
The minute the words were out of her mouth, Mac bit her lip and looked up at Harm apologetically. She could see the anger flash in his eyes; he hated it when she talked about herself like that. But if he wanted to understand where she was coming from, she needed to explain to him how she had felt back then.
As much as Harm didn�t want to hear those words ever come out of Mac�s mouth again, he knew that he couldn�t stop them. No matter how much he might wish otherwise, the epithets Joseph Mackenzie had flung at his daughter continually over the years were a part of her, and she couldn�t tell him about her past without it coming up. So instead of pointing out the obvious by telling her how wrong her father was, he decided to ignore the words and move on.
�So what happened? What made you stop believing you could do it?� He hesitated for a moment, and then reached out and took her hand. �Was it your mom leaving?�
�That was probably the start of it,� Mac acknowledged, and she couldn�t hide the bitter note when she added, �That�s how she managed it, you know. Getting away,� she clarified when she saw the confused look on Harm�s face. �She used my prize money to buy her ticket out of town. Ironic, isn�t it?�
�That�s one word for it, I guess.� Despicable was another word that came to mind; reprehensible worked pretty well. Harm couldn�t believe that not only would Deanne Mackenzie run away and leave her daughter behind, but that she would use the very money Mac was saving to try and build her dream to do it. Another thought occurred to him, and he looked down sharply at her. �Your father blamed you, didn�t he? For her taking the money?�
Mac nodded. �He seemed to think that she wouldn�t have found the money to leave on her own; that if it weren�t for that hundred dollars, she would still have been there.� She felt Harm tense, and squeezed his hand reassuringly. �I know now that he was wrong. After talking to her when he was dying, I realized that she would have left no matter what, but at the time��
�At the time, you thought he was right. That your dreams were what sent her away,� Harm finished matter-of-factly. He understood all about that kind of guilt; he�d felt it from the moment he�d found out his father was missing, as if somehow he had done something to cause his father to disappear. He could only imagine how much worse he would have felt if his mother had reinforced his belief.
Mac saw the knowing look that passed over his face, and knew that he understood. �Yeah,� she answered, �I tried to hold on, to tell myself that it wasn�t my fault, but the more time that passed, the more impossible that seemed.� Her voice got very quiet as she added, �It didn�t help that a few weeks after she left, my dad got so drunk that he tore through the house, destroying every picture I�d taken that he could find and then taking my camera and smashing it to pieces.�
�Oh, Mac,� Harm murmured sadly, imagining how devastated she must have felt at seeing all of her hard work destroyed like that. He saw a lone tear trailing down her cheek, and he reached out with his free hand and brushed it gently away. Mac gave him a watery smile.
�My teacher offered to help me get a new one,� she explained, forcing back the rest of her tears, �but I knew that it wouldn�t matter; sooner or later he would have destroyed that, too. I stayed in photography for another semester, but I might as well have just dropped it and saved everyone some time. Between my ever-increasing drinking, my father�s abuse, and my own guilt, I just stopped trying. With photography, school, my dreams, myself � I just gave up.�
�What about after Colonel O�Hara came and you got sober?� he asked, stroking his hand gently over her hair in an attempt to soothe her pain. �Did you think about trying again?�
She shook her head. �It didn�t matter. It was too late by that point. I wasn�t strong enough. Any self-confidence I had was gone, and even if it weren�t, I still wouldn�t have pursued it. It hurt too much,� she confessed. �There was still too much guilt tied up in that dream.�
�And now?� he probed, �Is there still too much guilt to pursue that dream?�
Mac frowned. �What do you mean?�
�Is there still too much guilt; is that why you�ve been resisting talking about it?� he clarified. �I know mom mentioned taking classes to you, and you shut her down pretty fast. Is that because you still blame yourself?�
�No, not really. But it doesn�t seem worth it to take classes when I�m not ever going to do anything with it, at least not professionally like I thought I would when I was a kid.� She shrugged. �I just don�t see the point, I guess.�
�The point is that it made you happy, Mac,� Harm answered, biting back a frustrated sigh at her defeatist outlook. �And I think it still does. You shouldn�t give that up.�
At the same time, Mac was forcing down her own frustration at Harm�s refusal to drop the subject. �Why is it so important to you, Harm?�
�Because it�s important to you,� he told her simply. Sliding off the desk, he shifted her chair and knelt in front of it, taking her hands in his. �Maybe you can�t have that dream of being the professional photographer that you had when you were a kid, but that doesn�t mean you should give it up entirely. You have a chance to get back something you lost, something that made you feel happy and good about yourself, and I think you should take it.�
The sincerity in Harm�s voice and the understanding in his eyes nearly brought Mac to tears again. He did understand; he knew what it was like to have a dream ripped away from you. And he knew what it was like to have it returned to you. It wasn�t the same as it was in the beginning, he�d learned that the hard way, but in the end he had been able to find a balance between what he had wanted then and what he had now. Maybe it was possible for her to do the same.
It would be hard, though. Especially now, when she was getting so tired and worn down that she had to fight to get through the days. She didn�t know if she had the energy to try and recapture a part of her past that she had given up on so long ago.
�I�ll think about it, Harm,� she finally conceded. She could tell by the look on his face that he didn�t think that was good enough, so she explained, �I�m not going to stop taking pictures. You�re right; I do enjoy it. And I know it will be good for me to have something outside of JAG and us - something of my own. Like you have with flying. But I�m not going to go beyond that right now. I�m too tired for classes and things like that. For the time being, I just need to take it as it comes. After treatments are over and things start to get back to normal, then I�ll think about doing more. Okay?�
�Okay,� Harm agreed, satisfied that she was moving forward. She was right; she needed to have something in her life that was just for her, that didn�t revolve around her career or their relationship, and he was glad she realized that. He leaned forward and kissed her gently. �Thank you for talking to me about this. I know it isn�t easy for you to talk about your past.�
�No, but it gets a little easier each time. Thanks to you,� she said with a loving smile. Pulling her hands from his, she wrapped her arms around his neck and started to give him another kiss when Harm�s stomach growled loudly. She raised an eyebrow at him in amusement; it wasn�t often that sound came from him instead of her. Harm shrugged sheepishly.
�I didn�t eat much lunch,� he told her, and she shook her head and smiled. Pushing him back a little, she stood up and then held out her hand.
�Come on, flyboy,� she said, hauling him to his feet, �I think we�ve filled our quota of deep conversations for the night. Let�s eat.�
And then, after leaning up to give him a quick peck on the cheek, she grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the door.
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
Rabb/Mackenzie residence
0530 EST
The following day, Harm woke up thirty minutes before his alarm was set to go off, but instead of feeling cranky at the loss of extra sleep, he felt wide awake and ready to go. Deciding to take full advantage of the extra time, he quietly slipped out of bed and into his running clothes. Then, after turning off his alarm so it wouldn�t wake Mac, he headed outside. It had been months since he�d gone for an early morning run, and he had forgotten how much he enjoyed it. Their neighborhood was quiet and picturesque � with its tree-lined streets and the first glimpses of sunlight sparkling on yards dusted with a fresh coat of snow � and he took this time alone to just revel in the peace and beauty of it.
Later that evening
Although Harm had taken the Admiral�s words to heart, it didn�t stop him from leaving work a little early so he could check on her. She had sounded okay when he called at lunch, and had told him that she was just going to run a couple of errands and then head home to relax for the rest of the day. But when he�d called her later that afternoon to see what she wanted for dinner, she had sounded a little off. When he asked, she had said that she was just tired, but he had a feeling it was more than that, so he quickly finished up the rest of his paperwork and headed home.