Title: Christmas Kisses
Author: StarTrails
Rating: PG
Feedback: Always welcome. Address is StarTrails@hotmail.com
Summary: A teenaged Chloe asks Mac talk about good kisses, and wouldn't 
you 
know it, Harm happens to stop by and adds his own insights.
Notes: I'm not sure of the exact year this story would take
place. After Jaggle Bells, but before All Ye Faithful, so sometime
before season 8, I guess, or, quite frankly, any time when Harm and Mac 
were 
actually
acting like *friends*.  So anyway, I figure Chloe would
be about 13 or 14 here, and I'm going to ignore the fact that
American kids seem to be going WAY past kissing at that age these
days… (Also, I don't remember the name of the ship Chloe's father was
on when they found him, so I'm just using the Higgins. My best friend
is an Annapolis grad who just finished a tour on that destroyer!)

I think we could all use a little something happy for H&M these days.

***Christmas Kisses***

1942 EST
December 24
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown

The closing credits to Miracle on 34th Street were rolling by on the
television screen and Mac reached for the remote control to stop the
tape and rewind it.

"So, what did you think?" she asked Chloe, who was spending the
holiday with her. When the young girl had told Mac she'd never seen
the movie before, Mac had insisted they make an emergency trip to the
video store. The Christmas classic had been on different television
stations all week, but it figured that when she actually had a need
to watch it, it had seemed to disappear from the primetime schedule.
But Mac hadn't minded; Chloe had managed to convince her to buy some
popcorn at the video store, and while they watched the movie
together, they had made long strings of the puffy white popcorn,
which were now draped around Mac's small Christmas tree like tinsel.
The buttery smell made for a strange combination when it mixed with
the pine-scented candles Mac had burning all around the large living
room, but it still smelled homey and inviting.

"It was okay," Chloe answered, sounding mildly disappointed.

"Only okay?" Mac asked, her eyes wide. "Chloe, this is a classic!
It's supposed to restore your belief in miracles, in all the good
things in life. It's supposed to make you feel like a kid again!"

Chloe's face wrinkled. "I still *am* a kid!"

Mac chuckled and tousled her little sister's brown hair. "I know you
are, but y'know, you're growing up so fast, sometimes I forget."

Chloe reached over to the coffeetable and grabbed a handful of the
popcorn that was left over from the decorations. "And besides, I
believe in miracles, but not in Santa Claus."

"Chloe!" Mac exclaimed. "What do you mean you don't believe in Santa
Claus?!"

Chloe rolled her eyes and playfully threw some popcorn at Mac. They
both fell into a fit of giggling, and when they calmed down, Chloe
continued on. "I think I always knew, deep down, that he wasn't real,
but the first time I knew for sure was the year you found my dad. I
didn't think presents from Santa would have a return address on the
USS Higgins."

"No," Mac agreed, "I guess you're right." She reached for her mug of
mint hot chocolate and took a sip, momentarily reveling in the small
pleasures of life: warm cocoa, a good movie, and spending time with
her favorite girl in the world.

"What about you, Mac?" Chloe asked. "When did you stop believing in
Santa Claus?"

Mac froze for a minute, and her grip tightened around her mug as she
stared down at her reflection in the warm liquid. "Y'know, Chloe, I…I
don't think I ever did believe. Miracles and fairy tales weren't
really big at my house. When I was little, I did everything I could
think of to stay on the `good list,' but somehow…I don't know…maybe
when he was `checking it twice,' my name somehow wound up on the bad
one, because I never got what I wished for…" Mac stopped when she
realized she'd been trailing off, revealing more than she'd
intended. "Until now!" she added cheerfully, pulling Chloe into a
hug. Now that she was a grown woman, Christmas was not a time to get
hung up on the misfortunes of the past, and certainly not a time to
burden and confuse poor Chloe with her demons from long ago.

"Well," Chloe said, "I believe in miracles, but with real people, not
some guy with a white beard and a big red suit, or the Tooth Fairy
and the Easter Bunny."

"You don't believe in the Tooth Fairy either?!" Mac said
incredulously.

"Maa-ac."

"You really are growing up, you know that? Pretty soon I guess we'll
be talking about makeup and boys." Mac smiled while she spoke, but
inwardly she began to panic. Looking back on her own teenage years,
suddenly she wasn't sure she could be a proper influence on Chloe.
God knew she couldn't be a role model where behavior with boys was
concerned, but maybe she could convince her little sister that this
was one place where that old rule would apply: do as I say, not as I
do.

"Hey, Mac? About that…" Chloe's tone was suddenly serious, and she
instantly had Mac's full attention. Mac nodded, waiting for Chloe to
continue. The young girl hesitated, and twisted a napkin between her
fingers until it began to shred, dropping small fibers onto her
flannel-pajama-clad legs.

Mac reached over to still her hands. She smiled reassuringly. "You
can ask me anything, Chloe. You know that."

Chloe nodded. She took a deep breath before taking the plunge and
blurting out the question that had been on her mind all week, ever
since her "date" with a boy from the equestrian club where her
horse's stable was. "What was your first kiss like?"

Mac's eyebrows arched up in surprise. "Are we asking for any
particular reason, young lady?" she said, giggling.

Chloe's lips curved up into a slow smile that threatened to become an
all-out grin. "Maybe…" she teased, the pitch of her voice rising.

"Maybe? Maybe?!" Mac exclaimed, nudging Chloe playfully. "Spill it! I
want to know everything!"

Chloe set the now destroyed napkin down on the coffeetable and
shifted her body on the couch until she was facing Mac, her legs
tucked up under her.

Mac followed suit and suddenly the night had turned into a good old-
fashioned slumber party gossip session, something else she'd never
had as a young girl.

"Well," Chloe started, "there's this boy…"

"Uh-huh…" Mac listened intently, smiling brightly.

"His name is Alex, and his horse is in the same stable as mine, so
that's how I know him."

"Yeah…?" Mac prodded. She was practically bouncing up and down with
excitement for her little sister.

"There was a Christmas party there last week, and…and…"

"And?!"

"He kissed me." Chloe's voice was flat.

Mac felt her heart fall just a little. Chloe didn't sound as elated
as a young girl who'd just had her first kiss should. In fact, Mac
thought she detected a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"Did you kiss him back?" Mac asked.

"Of course I did! He's cute! Besides, I wasn't going to just stand
there like…like some little girl who…who didn't know what she was
doing."

"*Did* you know what you were doing?" Mac asked, sensing that this
was probably the heart of the matter.

"Not a clue," Chloe admitted, with regret and a touch of
embarrassment in her voice. "So that's why I asked you. Please, Mac,
tell me I'm not a total dork and that I'll learn how to do it the
right way."

Chloe sounded so serious, so desperate, and Mac tried to keep her
composure, but despite her best effort, a hearty chuckle escaped her
lips.

"Oh great, I *am* a dork!" Chloe made a move to get up from the
couch, but Mac pulled her back down and kept an arm around her
shoulders, holding her close.

"Chloe, you are *not* a dork, and I can almost guarantee you that
this Alex boy is having the same questions and doubts you are right
now."

"Do you really think so?" Chloe asked hopefully.

"Yes, I do. And you know what else? First kisses are most definitely
not all perfect."

"No?" Chloe said, more hope entering her voice. "What was yours like?"

Mac groaned. "Mine was awful. His name was…" her eyes stared at the
carpet while she tried to remember, "…gosh, what the heck *was* his
name, anyway? Well, I guess that goes to show how wonderful it
*wasn't*, if I can't even remember the kid's name. But Chloe, I think
it has a lot to do with how you feel about the person, and how they
feel about you. If you have a strong connection, and are really drawn
to each other, then I think it can be magical. But I would guess that
most first kisses are anything but, since people are usually pretty
young when it happens. I'm not sure that at that age you can have the
kind of deep understanding and attraction it takes to make a really
great kiss. And I mean emotional attraction, Chloe. Physical
attraction is important, sure, but unless there's something more to
it, well, then it's just lips and tongues and…"

Chloe cut her off with a fit of giggling, which Mac promptly joined.
But Chloe quickly recovered and got serious again. "But how do you
know when there *is* something more?"

"Oh, well, sweetie, I hate to give you the same answer you've
probably heard a hundred times before, but you just know. You can
feel it, like an instinct. You can't see it, or hear it, or even
touch it, but you'll know. You'll just *know*."

"Did you ever have that feeling?" Chloe asked.

Mac felt her insides tighten. She wanted to sound optimistic for
Chloe, but she would never lie to her. "Honestly? No, I haven't. Not
yet, anyway," she added for a positive spin. "I still believe it's
out there; I just have to find the right person."

"And when you do, you'll have one of those fireworks kisses?"

"Well, I'd better – I've been waiting for it my whole life!" Chloe
laughed and Mac pulled her into another hug. After she released her,
she reached for her hot cocoa, which, by then, was just cocoa,
the "hot" having been long gone. "You know what, Chloe?"

"What?" she replied, and reached for more popcorn.

"I may not have had the perfect kiss, but I'll tell you how I've
always pictured it in my mind."

Chloe smiled. "Okay." She grabbed the crocheted afghan that was
draped over the back of the sofa and wrapped it around herself.

"Well," Mac began, "I always imagined it would be with someone I was
really attracted to – physically, emotionally, and intellectually.
And he would feel the same way about me. I think we would have been
wanting to kiss for a long time, but the opportunity never came
along. We'd be fairly certain that the attraction was mutual, but
we'd never know for sure until the moment finally happened. Now, this
is going to sound funny, but I've always imagined it happening in the
Fall. One October night, he and I would go for a walk somewhere, the
fallen leaves crunching under our feet, while over our heads Orion
takes over the sky. Maybe we'd be at a county fair or something, and
the air would be chilly and crisp, with the smell of homemade apple
pies and the sounds of children laughing in the distance." Mac paused
momentarily and smiled at herself, at this romantic, fairy-tale
moment she'd been imagining for herself ever since she was a little
girl.

Chloe was wide-eyed and captivated, wearing a smile that matched
Mac's. "This sounds like something from a movie," she said.

"A good movie, I hope!"

"The best," Chloe replied. "Now tell me the rest!"

"Well, we'd be walking along, and he would reach for my hand, which
would fit easily in his. And we'd continue on like that, holding
hands, until suddenly he would just stop…and I would look at him…and
he'd face me, and say in a kind of shy, but very masculine
voice, `There's something I've been wanting to do all night.' And I
would whisper, `What's that?' And he would say `This." And he'd put
his finger under my chin to tilt my head up so he could reach my
lips. I always pictured him being taller than I am. I know that's old-
fashioned, but I just think it's more romantic that way." Mac shook
her head. "It also goes against everything I hold dear as a female
Marine, but I think it looks nice when a woman is small and delicate
compared to her guy. He should be big and protective." Mac stopped
herself before she dwelled for too long on the tallest, strongest man
she knew. The chances that they would one night find themselves
walking hand in hand at a county fair were nonexistent. Not that that
ever stopped her from fantasizing about it…

"Anyway," she continued, "our lips would meet, and it would be tender
and gentle, but somehow passionate and explosive at the same time.
Somehow, he would know exactly how to do it, exactly what I like. Our
eyes would be closed, and everything around us would disappear, save
for each other and the utter perfection between us."

"And then you would live happily ever after…" Chloe said dreamily.

"Yeah," Mac smiled. "Something like that."

"Do you think it'll ever happen that way?"

"Like my fantasy?" Mac asked. She sighed, shaking her head. "It would
take a miracle."

"Well, you never know, Mac. I mean, you're the one who wanted to
watch Miracle on 34th Street."

"I know, honey, but this is Georgetown, not Macy's Herald Square."

"I don't know, Mac," Chloe said, her mouth forming a sly
smile. "Christmas was when we found my dad. It can be a pretty
miraculous time."

"Well, I'll never give up hope, but I won't hold my breath, either.
If I did, I would have suffocated a long time ago waiting for that
kiss."

"And speaking of your best kiss, where's Harm tonight?"

Mac tried to look shocked, but her expression was quickly overtaken
by a wide smile. "Well, miss smarty-pants, Harm has his own plans."

"Doing what?" she persisted.

"Well, Christmas isn't exactly his favorite time of year. Do you
remember how his father was MIA?" Chloe nodded. "He was shot down
over Vietnam, on Christmas Eve, 1969. So every year Harm goes to the
memorial to…well…pay his respects, I guess. Maybe to wish his father
a merry Christmas in Heaven." Chloe nodded, looking sad. "Yeah," Mac
added, "so I don't think his Christmas memories are as happy as most
other people's."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Mac got up from her cozy
spot on the sofa to see who it was. She certainly wasn't expecting
anyone at 2100 on Christmas Eve. She was pleasantly surprised when
she looked through the peephole and saw her very dashing partner. She
had always had a weakness for his dress whites, despite her
insistence to the contrary, but she loved his winter look, too. There
was something about his long, black coat that made him look so
debonair, so striking. The essence of confident masculinity.

She opened the door and smiled brightly. "Hey, Harm! Merry Christmas!"

Harm returned the smile, flashing her his irresistible
dimples. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

"What are you doing here?" Mac asked cheerfully.

His voice softened. "I was on my way back…from seeing my dad…and I
thought I'd drop by."

Mac placed her hand on his shoulder. "You all right?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Some years are just harder than others, I
guess."

Mac could only nod. She stepped aside to let him in and hung his coat
in the closet.

"Oh, hey Chloe," Harm said, seeing her on the sofa.

"Hi! Merry Christmas, Harm!"

"Right back at'cha, kiddo. I'm sorry, guys. I have presents for both
of you back at my apartment. If I'd known I was going to come by…"

Mac waved her hand, dismissing him. "That's okay, don't worry about
it. Hey, you want some candy cane hot chocolate?"

"Some what?"

Mac chuckled. "Candy cane hot chocolate. It's just cocoa with mint
flavoring added. They make it special for the holidays."

Harm shook his head. "No thanks. I'm a chocolate purist. I don't like
my chocolate…tainted with anything."

Mac laughed. "Well, can I get you something else? There's homemade
apple cider, warm on the stove."

Harm's eyebrows shot up. "Homemade?"

Mac rolled her eyes. "I do know *some* recipes, flyboy."

"I'll be the judge of that," Harm retorted.

"Help yourself," Mac told him. "You know where the mugs are."

Harm nodded and went into the kitchen. His senses were assaulted by
the wonderful aroma of cinnamon, clove, and the other mulling spices.
He poured himself some cider, but instead of going back into the
living room right away, he lingered in the kitchen, letting the cider
and its unmistakable hallmark of autumn transport him back a few
months, to when the leaves were changing color and the air was chilly
in the evenings.

But before long, a shout from Mac brought him out of his reverie.

"Hey," she called, "what did you do, get lost in there?" Finally,
Harm went back into the living room where Mac and Chloe were cuddled
together under a blanket. He took a seat on a nearby recliner.

"Did I already tell you how cute those pajamas are, Marine?" Harm
pointed to what he could see of her pajamas, sticking out from under
the blanket. They were forest green, with little candy canes and
snowflakes patterned all over.

Mac smiled. "Just don't let it get around the office. I do have to
maintain some semblance of authority."

"So, Harm," Chloe interrupted, "what was your first kiss like?"

Caught completely off guard by such a blunt question, Harm almost
choked on his cider.

Mac's attempt to keep a straight face ended in complete failure, and
she burst into laughter, which spread immediately to Chloe.

Harm rolled his eyes. "Something funny, ladies?"

Harm's sarcasm only made Chloe laugh louder, but Mac finally composed
herself. "Just your reaction, that's all."

"Well, what kind of question is that to ask a person when he's in the
process of swallowing hot cider?" Harm's asked defensively. "I mean,
talk about your sneak attacks…And why do you ask, anyway?"

"Mac and I were talking about first kisses when you knocked on the
door," Chloe informed him. "Y'know, what they should be like, and—"

"And what they're *really* like?" Harm finished for her.

"Yeah."

"Tell me, Miss Chloe, are we on this fact-finding mission for any
particular reason?"

Mac was so excited for her little sister that she answered for
her. "Chloe had her first kiss last week!"

"Maa-aac," Chloe said, blushing.

"Come on, Chloe," Mac said cheerfully, "don't be shy. This is a major
milestone, right Harm?"

Harm set his mug of cider down on the coffeetable. "I don't know,
Mac. My first kiss wasn't all that memorable."

"Tell us about it!" Chloe insisted.

"All right," he acquiesced, "as long as anything I say will not be
used against me in a court of law. Or for that matter, by fifty-cent
psychoanalyst Dr. Mackenzie here."

Mac chuckled. "Fine. I hereby grant you full immunity."

"Well," Harm began, "I was young, obviously, and very nervous. Sweaty
palms, racing heart, butterflies in my stomach. I was so scared I
wouldn't do it right that I didn't even enjoy it. I was too worried
about where I should put my hands, how long to hold the kiss, and
mostly…well…" he looked away shyly.

"What?" Chloe demanded, desperate to get confirmation that she was
not the only one without a stellar first kiss.

"Whether I should use my tongue."

With that, Mac erupted into another wave of laughter.

"Counselor!" Harm admonished.

"Hey, I only said I wouldn't psychoanalyze you. I never said I
wouldn't laugh."

"Oh, like *your* first kiss was the ultimate fulfillment of all your
fantasies?" Harm leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his
chest.

"Of course not," Mac answered. "And neither was Chloe's. But before
you showed up, I was in the process of explaining to her that it gets
better. You get a little older, lose some of your inhibitions, you
learn how you like to be kissed, and you sort of teach your boyfriend
or girlfriend by example. They'll pick up on what you do."

"Is that really true, Harm?" Chloe asked. "Please tell me it gets
better."

"Of course it does, sweetheart." Harm smiled as he quickly remembered
one particular kiss…a stormy night…a pier in Norfolk…a beautiful
woman in a Navy lieutenant's uniform. "Mac's right. When you find the
right person, it just…clicks. And you might click with a lot of
different boys before you find `the one.'"

"But how do you *know* when it's the one?" Chloe whined.

"I don't know, honey. You just do."

"Have you met the one?" she asked innocently.

Jeez, Harm thought, this kid would make a heck of a trial lawyer. "I
don't know," he answered. He reached over to retrieve his cider, and
as he took a drink, he met Mac's eyes over the edge of the
mug. "Sometimes I think so," he added softly.

Chloe was as sharp as her older sister, and she did not miss the
moment when their gazes had locked. "Well, do you have a good kiss
planned for when you're sure?"

"I'd like to think it's pretty good," he answered.

"Well, tell us what it would be like, and me and Mac will let you
know." Chloe smiled, and snuggled more comfortably under the blanket
with Mac.

Harm looked at her doubtfully.

"Come on," Chloe insisted. "We'll tell you if it's good!"

Harm looked at Mac, hoping she would say something to bail him out.

"Don't look at me like that, flyboy. I want to hear this as much as
she does. Besides, it's Christmas Eve. Consider it a present for
Chloe."

Harm sighed heavily and took a long drink of his cider, trying
desperately to prolong the inevitable. "All right. Here goes…" He
shifted a little and leaned back comfortably in the soft chair.

"Don't ask me why, but I always pictured it happening in the Fall, on
a chilly night in October. I'm usually pretty warm, and I imagine her
being pretty cold because we'd have been outside all afternoon at a
county fair, maybe out in the Pennsylvania country, near where my
grandmother lives. So as the sun goes down, I would wrap my jacket
around her shoulders, and we'd find a quiet spot in a field, away
from the crowds, and we'd sit together to watch the sunset. We'd hear
children laughing as they hop their way to the finish line in a
potato sack race, and off in the distance the older kids would be
scouting through a pumpkin patch, looking for the best ones to carve
into jack o'lanterns. Soon, the stars would be out, and they'd be
incredible to see, because there'd be no lights out there like in the
city, and you'd think you could see every star in the galaxy."

Harm's voice took on an ethereal tone, and without even realizing, he
closed his eyes, as if lost in a dream. "But until then," he
continued, "there would just be the smell of blue-ribbon-winning
banana breads and pumpkin pies, and nobody in the world except the
two of us, and a sunset so pink and purple it breaks your heart…" His
eyes still closed, Harm smiled as he went on. "And once it's dark
out, and the fair's over, she and I would take the long way back to
wherever we'd be staying. We'd have a long walk in the crisp, still
night, and the air would have that smoky, woodsy smell from nearby
fireplaces. I'd hold her hand while we walked, and the only music
playing would be the sound of the dried leaves and fallen acorns
crunching underfoot. It would be so perfect, but there would be one
thing missing…"

Chloe and Mac's eyes met, both sharing a look that told the other
they could hardly believe what they were hearing.

Harm went on, still lost in his vivid imagination. "So I would turn
her to face me. The moonlight would be sparkling in her eyes, and I'd
swear to myself I'd never seen anything more beautiful. And very
slowly, I would lower my lips to hers, and…I'd be home."

He paused for a moment, and then stopped, finally realizing he'd been
talking nonstop. He opened his eyes to see Mac and Chloe staring at
him, their eyes wide and mouths open. Harm could see Mac beginning to
lose the fight against her laughter.

"Oh, great," Harm muttered. "Y'know, you women all say you want a guy
who's `sensitive,' but then when you get one, all you do is make fun
of him for it!" He set his mug of cider down on the table with a
thud.

"Harm, it's not that," Mac said in her defense. "Believe me."

"Yeah," Chloe giggled, "it's not that."

"Well, I didn't come here to be the punchline of whatever joke you
two are laughing at, so if you'll excuse me…" Harm got to his feet
and was heading toward the coat closet when Chloe called out to him.

"No, wait!"

Harm turned around. "What is it?"

"You have to show me."

"Show you what?" he asked.

"The kiss!"

Harm looked at her in disbelief. "Chloe, what are you—"

"Not with me! With Mac. Come on, you two, how am I supposed to know
if it's good unless I see it?"

"Chloe," Mac said, "I don't know if that's such a good—"

"It's Christmas Eve," Harm interrupted. He raised his
eyebrows. "How 'bout it, Mac?"

Mac was stunned into speechlessness for a moment, but she quickly
found her voice. "All right. I mean, for Chloe's sake."

"Yeah," Harm repeated. "For Chloe's sake."

They walked toward each other slowly, and met just in front of Mac's
fireplace.

"Well," Harm whispered, brushing back a stray lock of Mac's
hair, "there's no moonlight, but the fire's glowing in your eyes."

"Yeah," Mac whispered back, feeling a warmth spread through her
body, "and there's no sunset, but there's the smell of cider."

"And it's not October…"

"Just kiss me, Harm."

"Yes, ma'am."

Their lips met softly, the tender, slow kiss accompanied by the
crackle and pop of the fire. A soft sigh escaped Mac's mouth as they
pulled apart, but Harm pulled her close again, and they melted into
each other, the world beyond them disappearing, just like they had
both always imagined.

Unnoticed by Harm and Mac, Chloe got up from the couch, wrapped the
blanket around herself, and headed to the door. "Merry Christmas, you
two," she whispered as she left the apartment. She headed down to the
lobby to give them some privacy, and as she rode down in the
elevator, her heart smiled. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the
first year of happy holiday memories for Harm and Mac. After all,
Christmas was a pretty miraculous time.


The End.