Title: "A Thousand Words"
Author: AeroGirl
Email: michaerogirl@hotmail.com
Website: http://aerogirl.topcities.com
Rating: PG
Classification: Vignette, Romance (H/M)
Spoilers: "Yeah, Baby", "Port Chicago"

Summary: Follow-up to the seventh-season episode "Port Chicago".  
Every picture tells a story, but some pictures don't say nearly 
enough.

Disclaimers: Mr. B, please, please don't sue me.  I promise I'll be 
nice to your characters.  At least, as nice as you typically are, 
which sometimes isn't saying much.

Author's Notes: Not much to say, really.  Just a little idea I had, 
proving once again that I can turn just about anything into a shipper 
moment.  But if you haven't seen "Port Chicago", you'll need to know 
that Harriet decided to buy a house - with Harm's help - and 
conveniently forgot to mention it to Bud.  Ouch.


"A Thousand Words"


	"Harriet..."

	"Sir, you don't have to say anything.  It was awful of me not 
to tell Bud, and it was awful of me to mislead you into thinking I 
had, and..."

	"Harriet, I was only going to ask you to hand me the 
wrench."  Harm ducked his head out from underneath the kitchen sink, 
and Harriet flushed, embarrassed.

	It was Saturday afternoon, and after the events of the week, 
she'd been reluctant to approach the commander for anything.  Then, 
of course, her garbage disposal had broken.  Mac had rolled her eyes 
when Harm again volunteered his services, which had only strengthened 
his determination.  Like everything else, it had become a point of 
contention.  Finally, Mac had issued a challenge: if Harm couldn't 
fix the disposal by the time she showed up to take them all out to 
dinner, he'd have to buy.  Otherwise, it was her treat.  By now, 
Harriet knew better than to get between the partners, but she was a 
little wary of facing either of them after the house-buying debacle.

	"I'm sorry, sir - "

	"Harriet," he broke in for the third time.  "At the moment, 
I'm your repairman, not your senior officer.  Would you try using my 
given name for a change?"

	She sighed.  "Harm, I am sorry.  I've been trying to 
apologize to you since Thursday.  What I did was dumb, and I know 
it.  I wanted the house so much - I _want_ the house - but I never 
should have dragged you into it."

	"It's all right.  I'd appreciate it, though, if you'd leave 
me out of it when you discuss it with your husband."  Harm pulled 
himself out from under the sink and dried his hands on his T-shirt.  
"Try it now."

	She flipped the switch, and the disposal whirred to life.  
"Wow!  That was fast."

	"Hey, Mac forgets sometimes that I practically put my whole 
apartment together solo.  I just don't get along with 
refrigerators."  He flashed a grin and accepted a hand up from the 
floor.  "Looks like the Marine's buying dinner."

	Harriet smiled back, as little A.J. wandered into the 
kitchen.  Upon seeing his godfather, his eyes lit up.  "A-pane!" he 
said brightly.

	"Hey, buddy."   Harm picked the toddler up and swung him 
around.  "I swear, he thinks my name is 'airplane'."

	"Can you really blame him?" Harriet replied sweetly, earning 
a long-suffering look.  They closed up the toolbox and went into the 
living room, where A.J. delightedly showed Harm each of his toy cars.

	The commander sat down on the floor and stretched the 
complaining muscles in his back.  "Seriously, Harriet.  You _have_ 
talked to Bud by now, right?"

	She nodded, taking a seat on the couch.  "It wasn't pretty.  
I think he was more depressed than angry, really.  But he understands 
that it was important to me, and ... we'll be okay, I think.  Thank 
you."

	He raised an eyebrow.  "For aiding and abetting?"

	"For being a friend," she said simply.

	A.J. was working on a large pile of plastic blocks, and he 
tugged on Harm's shirt.  "Help, Unca Harm," he directed.

	"Hey, you do know my name.  All right."  He picked up a block 
and attempted to brace the towering stack.  "What are you building, 
A.J.?"

	"Ship," the two-year-old informed him matter-of-factly.  
"Daddy's ship."

	Harriet's eyes immediately filled with tears.  Harm glanced 
up and reached over to squeeze her hand.  "You're doing fine," he 
said quietly.  "Just hang in there."


**********************


	It was because of A.J., really, that she worried so much.  It 
was concern for her son, not herself, that tended to keep her awake 
at night.  A.J. couldn't read his father's messages on the computer.  
He wasn't old enough to really know Bud as a person, so he wasn't 
fully aware of what was missing from his life.  By the time they were 
a family again, he might be reading, and learning to hit a tee-ball 
... and Bud would be seeing it in pictures.  He'd watch his son grow 
in fragments, captured moments, for months at a time.

	As she left Harm reading 'The Hungry Caterpillar' to his 
godson and went to fold the laundry, she thought once again that they 
were actually rather lucky.  She had a whole office of friends and 
colleagues willing to help her with A.J.  The admiral would be 
putting a ball glove in his namesake's hands before long, and Sturgis 
had proven to be an excellent babysitter.  Mac loved to spoil him, 
and Harm...

	Harm had grown up without his father, she suddenly realized 
anew.  He'd seen him between deployments for a while, and then at six 
years old, he'd been left with nothing but a photograph and a box of 
letter tapes.  Was that why he was being so attentive to her and 
A.J.?  Because he knew the life?  Or was it just that helping them 
was something pure and uncomplicated, with no questions attached?  
The office had been so busy lately, and she wasn't sure she'd seen 
him truly relaxed since - 

	Her train of thought swiftly ended when she re-entered the 
living room.  Stretched out on the couch, Harm was lying with A.J. 
curled up on his chest.  Both were fast asleep.  The scene was so 
perfect that she couldn't help but stand there and watch them for a 
moment.  If the man would only wise up and figure himself out, he'd 
make a terrific father.  As it was, she just grateful to have him 
around right now, for A.J.'s sake.

	She went to the closet to retrieve her camera, but sighed in 
disappointment when she discovered no film in it.  An idea came to 
her, and she quietly picked up the phone and dialed.

	"Mac?  Hi, it's me.  I was wondering if you could come over a 
little early.  Like, say, now.  There's something you just have to 
see ... And by chance, if you have any extra film lying around, could 
you bring it along?"


*****************


	Mac had puzzled over Harriet's call most of the way to 
Rosslyn.  She wondered idly if Harm had managed to utterly destroy 
the garbage disposal by now.  But even if he had, she didn't see any 
point in documenting his humiliation on film.  And what was with the 
whispering?

	When she knocked on the door, though, Harriet was smiling 
impishly, and the kitchen looked to be in working order.  "So did he 
fix it, or what?"

	The lieutenant nodded with a small shrug.  "Guess he did know 
what he was doing."

	"He usually does.  I just like to mess with him."  Mac handed 
over the film she'd brought, surprised when Harriet snatched it up 
with glee.  "What's going on?"

	"Come see for yourself."

	Mac followed her into the living room, and the sight of her 
self-assured partner sharing A.J.'s nap sent her heart into 
somersaults.  Sometimes he could look so damn innocent ... **What if 
she has your looks and my brains?** floated unbidden through her 
mind, and all the questions she'd been trying to ignore suddenly 
returned in full force.  "That might be the cutest thing I've seen in 
months," she finally said, trying to mask her reaction and failing.  
"Quick, get that camera loaded."

	Harriet quirked an eyebrow, watching her friend's attempt at 
nonchalance.  "You know, the realtor seemed to think that Harm and I 
were, quote, 'a perfect couple'.  Hysterical, isn't it?  Can you 
imagine?"

	"Hmm," Mac responded vaguely, from somewhere far distant.  
Quickly, though, she snapped back to the present and motioned with a 
mischievous smile.  "Come on.  Take it before one of them wakes up."

	She managed to get two shots off before the clicking of the 
camera brought Harm awake with a start.  Slightly disoriented, he 
squinted up at the two women looking down at him adoringly.  "What 
are you two trying to do to me?" he grumbled, being careful not to 
disturb A.J.

	"Aww, do big sailors need naptime too?" Mac cooed, receiving 
a glare of disapproval from her partner.

	"Give him a break.  He's been playing handyman for me all 
week."  Harriet moved to take her son out of his arms, but he waved 
her off.

	"It's all right.  I've got him."  Harm swung his long legs to 
the floor and stood up from the couch.  He carried A.J. into his 
room, gently laying the still-sleeping toddler down on his bed.  Mac 
followed, almost without being aware of her action.  When he turned 
around, the look in her dark eyes took him by surprise.  "What is it, 
Mac?" he questioned.

	"You're doing a really good thing here," she said, not 
entirely answering the query.  "Being around for Harriet, and for 
A.J.  It's obviously a big help."

	"I'm not the only one.  Dinner was your idea, after all."  He 
returned her unflinching stare, a self-conscious flush beginning to 
creep up his neck.  "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked 
quietly.

	"Like what?"

	"Like I've changed, or something."

	She shook her head.  "I don't think you've changed so much," 
she replied just as quietly, stepping fully into the room.  "Maybe 
I'm just seeing you differently."

	It occurred to her that he might try to back away from this 
kind of conversation, given their track record.  This time, for some 
reason, he didn't.  "After all this time, I thought we'd seen each 
other in just about every way possible."

	"Just about."  She reached down to stroke A.J.'s soft hair.  
"But it's not every day the big, bad pilot lets himself be charmed by 
a two-year-old."

	"I do have feelings, Mac."  He looked away after speaking: he 
hadn't meant to sound so hurt.  But her response stopped him cold.

	"Then why do you try so hard to ignore them?"

	His head jerked up, but it was a moment before he could trust 
himself to reply.  "What does that mean?"

	"It means invincibility is overrated.  People like you better 
like this, when you let your guard down every once in a while."

	"What people?  You?"

	"For a start."

	He took a deep breath, wondering how they'd managed to find 
their way to this topic yet again.  "Mac, if I let my guard down 
completely, I'm not sure you'll like what you see."

	"That's a risk I'm willing to take."  She hoped that her 
assertion sounded more confident than it felt.  If the full, honest 
truth was that he didn't feel the same way she did, maybe she really 
didn't want to know.  But something told her that this wasn't going 
to end the way that night on the admiral's porch had.  So many things 
were different now - everything, it seemed, except this insistent, 
enduring bond between them.  "Don't you trust me?"

	He met her gaze, and his expressive eyes were solemn.  
"There's no one I trust more," he said softly.  "You know that."

	"Then this shouldn't be so hard."  She moved closer, her 
intensity almost visible.  "Let me in.  Show me what you won't let 
anyone else see."

	His voice was almost too low to be audible.  "I think it's 
too late to do any good."

	"Let me be the judge of that.  Tell me, Harm.  Tell me what 
you're thinking right now."

	Something in her eyes, her stance, forced him to surrender.  
"Right now ... I'm thinking that I wish this were my life - that I 
had something to come home to at night that made me feel as content 
as I do when I'm just playing with A.J.  And I'm thinking that I've 
already ruined too many chances with the one person I truly want to 
be with to ever get to that life."

	He tried to turn away from her, but she grabbed his shoulder 
and physically prevented him from doing so.  Without pausing to doubt 
her instincts, she kissed him, hard, before he could even react.  
"No, you haven't," she said firmly, her eyes boring into his in an 
attempt to get her message through.  "Why do you always give up so 
easily?"

	His mind reeling, he could offer nothing except the plain, 
unvarnished truth.  "Because I'm terrified that I don't deserve you," 
he whispered - and suddenly, magically, Sarah Mackenzie's world made 
sense again.  There had always been a scrap of doubt clinging 
fiercely to her soul, telling her that her past had made her unworthy 
of real love.  It mocked her with her father's voice, and Chris's, 
and sometimes even Mic's: and although she'd never allowed it to 
fully take root, some part of her always wondered if Harm ever saw 
her that way, too.  Never had it crossed her mind that he might 
honestly think she was too _good_ for him.

	It was probably the greatest compliment she'd ever received, 
but at the same time, it broke her heart.

	"How can you say that?" she asked in disbelief.  "After 
everything we've pulled each other through, how could you possibly 
think that we're anything but two of a kind?"

	"Mac, I can't even count the number of times I've managed to 
hurt you..."

	"Do you think that's all that matters?  I know we've made 
more than our share of mistakes, but if we never open ourselves up to 
the possibility of getting hurt, we're never going to get anywhere.  
Harm, I'm here.  I'm right in front of you, and I'm telling you that 
I trust you not to hurt me.  Kiss me again and then try to tell me 
that this isn't worth fighting for."

	With that, something seemed to lock into place, and he pulled 
her into his arms and kissed her deeply, longingly.  She wrapped her 
arms around his neck, holding on with all the power she possessed.  
Neither of them heard the faint *clicks* coming from the hallway, as 
Harriet stealthily snapped a picture and then disappeared into her 
bedroom to compose herself.  She hadn't heard anything said - there 
was a distinct difference between being curious and being nosy - but 
this was just too good an opportunity to pass up.

	"I'm tired of fighting this," he whispered against her 
cheek.  "I'm so tired of trying not to need you..."

	"So stop doing it," she implored him, not letting go.  "Give 
yourself a chance to be happy for once.  Give _us_ a chance."

	Their lips met again, in a kiss that seemed to open up the 
world.  Without a word, it was somehow clear that from here on, 
things would be very different.  Finally, Harm drew back, and the 
relief and wonder shining from his handsome features was like nothing 
she'd ever seen from him before.  "How the hell did we end up here?" 
he asked, honestly perplexed.

	She shrugged with a smile.  "Law of averages, maybe?"

	"Huh?"

	"Well, we've had this conversation so many times that we had 
to get it right sooner or later."

	With a laugh, he took her hand and gently brought it to his 
lips.  "We've got some more things to talk about, though.  Tonight?  
My place?"

	"After dinner with A.J. and Harriet."  With a start, both 
officers remembered where they were and glanced down at little A.J., 
who had woken up and was watching them curiously.  "Oh, lord.  We 
just gave him quite a show, didn't we?"

	"Hiya, Aun Mac!" the toddler said cheerfully.  "Tiss me, too?"

	Sheepishly, Mac bent down to place a kiss on his cheek.  "Hi, 
honey.  Do you think you can keep a secret?"

	"Oh, that is so not going to work," Harm warned, choosing to 
be amused rather than mortified.

	"Quiet, you.  What do you say, A.J.?  Don't tell Mommy that 
Aunt Mac and Uncle Harm were kissing?"

	The point of the question was lost on A.J., but he understood 
a few words and gave a brilliant smile.  "Mommy take picture."

	The partners exchanged a glance.

	"You don't think..."

	"She wouldn't..."

	In an instant, both were off like a shot.  "_Harriet!!_"



*** THE END ***