Title: Friends Indeed
Author: StarTrails
Rating: PG-13, with one scene that is R for an adult situation
Spoilers: None come to mind. (Maybe To Russia with Love and In
Country, but only tiny references.)
Disclaimer: If you think I own JAG or these characters, you should
think again. ;) No copyright infringement intended and not a dime
of profit being made here.
Feedback: Yes, of course!! Don't be shy. Address is
StarTrails@hotmail.com
Summary: A kind-of sequel to my last fic, Friends In Need, but you
don't need to have read that to understand this. (After all, "A
friend in need is a friend indeed.") Just know that Chloe and Sergei
met for the first time on New Year's Eve 2002/03, and Harm has made
good on his promise to make Mac his wife before the end of 2003. In
this part, a chance encounter leads to an interesting romance.
Meanwhile, with their second child on the way, Harm and Mac's
marriage hits a few rough patches. (They did meet in a rose
garden. There were bound to be some thorns. *wink*) Can they hold
it together?
Notes: General consensus seems to be that Sergei's age is
undefined. For my purposes, he's 30 when this story starts, and
nothing ever happened between him and Singer. Also, I'm pretty sure
they don't do any flight training at Norfolk, but let's pretend they
do. Just one more thing...for the ease of me not having to
invent new celebrities, let's say everyone who's popular now is
popular 5 years from now. (Creative license, it's a beautiful
thing.)

**This story is the brainchild of VB, who was inspired by a line in
Friends in Need (when Sergei asks Mac if she has any sisters). So
special thanks to her for envisioning a couple none of us would
probably ever think to put together.


*Friends Indeed*


Washington Square Park, New York City
October 2008
12:30 EST

The good-looking but very quiet man was becoming a well-known part of
the scenery in the park. Well, not well-known, since he rarely spoke
to anyone, but certainly well-recognized. He had been coming there
almost every day for the past month, with a bag of sunflower seeds
for the hungry pigeons. When he did say anything, it was to the
birds, inviting and encouraging them to partake of the feast. He was
always careful to leave enough for the smaller birds, who weren't
quick enough to get to the seeds before the greedy, aggressive, large
ones gobbled up everything.

He loved this new routine. He felt needed. He liked how the pigeons
began to recognize him after a few days, and waited anxiously for the
man in the leather jacket with the brown paper bag. Or maybe all they
knew was that every day at lunchtime, they would be fed. He didn't
mind much either way. The urban birds were the closest things he had
made to friends in the three months he'd been living in New York.
Funny, he thought, how in a city of millions of people, friendly
faces were so hard to come by. Maybe it was the long hours he worked
at the consulate. Maybe his accent put people off. Whatever it was,
even though he was surrounded by a sea of people taking their lunches
outside, people talking and laughing together, Sergei Zhukov felt
very alone.

Hr sprinkled a generous handful of seeds on the ground and four birds
immediately plunged down for the bounty. Sergei enjoyed people
watching, though he tried not to be too conspicuous about it. Today,
a young girl caught his eye. She was walking across the park with
two friends, but she stood out because she wore an interesting hat,
black with a big pink flower on the front. The hat obscured part of
the girl's face, but Sergei could see her charming smile and hear her
gentle laughter. The girls continued on their way, and
then suddenly the one in the middle, the one with the hat, turned
around and studied him. He felt her eyes on him, but was nervous to
look up, so he scattered another handful of seeds.

"Sergei?!" the girl exclaimed. "Is that you?!"

He raised his head, and while she looked familiar, he couldn't quite
place her.

She took off the hat to reveal her whole face. "It's me, Chloe.
Mac's sister. Remember?"

Sergei's eyes went wide and his mouth opened involuntarily. The
little girl had turned into a woman overnight. Well, not exactly
overnight; after all, it had been almost five years since they'd last
seen each other when he first returned to the U.S.

"Chloe," he said with a big smile, "of course I remember you!" He
pulled her into a tight hug. When he released her, he noted, "Look
what a beautiful woman you've become!"

Chloe's friends giggled at his comment, while Chloe just rolled her
eyes. "Whatever. What are you doing here?"

"Feeding the birds."

"Come on, silly, I mean in New York."

"Temporary assignment at the Russian consulate here. I've been here
since July."

"And you didn't call me? Why not?"

"I don't have your number. Not to mention I didn't know you were
here. I thought you are living in Vermont, no?"

"Well, yeah, but I'm in college now. NYU, just down the street."

"University? Wow, I forget how much time has gone by. What do you
study?"

"I'm in the film school. Still trying to decide between directing
and editing."

"Be a director," Sergei said. "Then you can give orders to everyone,
just like Mac."

Chloe laughed. "Maybe."

Just then, one of Chloe's friends cleared her throat to get her
attention. "Oh, I'm sorry. Sergei Zhukov, this is Heather Matthews,
and this is Joo Hyun Kim."

"Call me Jen," the Asian girl said.

"Heather, Jen, this is Sergei."

Sergei smiled and shook their hands. He noticed Heather was pretty,
with green eyes and wavy blonde hair, while Jen was exotic, with
beautiful, shiny black hair and almond-shaped eyes.

"Chloe, we gotta go," Heather spoke up.

Chloe sighed. "All right. Sergei, I'm sorry, but we need to get to
class."

"Will I see you again?"

"Probably. We come through here all the time. That guy with the
cart on 8th Street has the best hot dogs in the city. But here, why
don't I give you my phone number." She tore a sheet of paper from a
notebook and wrote quickly. "I've got two roommates, but you can
call as late as you want. One or more of us is usually up pulling an
all-nighter."

"Okay. It was nice meting you, ladies," he said to the other
girls, "and great to see you again, Chloe."

"You too, Sergei. See ya later."

See you later. Sergei wondered if she really meant it, or if it was
just one of those things people said, like how are you, when they
don't actually expect an answer. He hoped, of course, that he would
see more of her. Except for some visiting diplomats now and then,
Chloe's smile was the warmest one he'd seen in weeks.

As Chloe and her friends crossed the street on their way to class,
Jen said, "I can't believe you know the Crazy Russian Bird Guy."

"What?"

"Crazy Russian Bird Guy. That's what everyone calls him."

"Yeah," Heather added. "Although, now that I've seen him, he is
pretty hot. How do you know him?"

"It's complicated. He's my brother-in-law's brother...except Harm's
not really my brother-in-law...because Mac's not really my sister.
Look," Chloe said, getting exasperated by her own logic, "I don't
know. Think of us as...distant cousins."

"Mmm...Chloe with the *hot* cousin," Heather teased.

"Cut it out," Chloe giggled. "And he's not hot, he's just...Sergei."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Same Day
Home of Capt. Harmon Rabb, Jr., and Sarah Mackenzie Rabb
07:15 EST

After shaving, Harm emerged from the bathroom to see his wife sitting
at her vanity table, putting in her small gold earrings. The lamp on
the nightstand cast the room in a soft, rosy haze, and it amazed Harm
every morning how Mac could still take his breath away. Just
watching her do the little things, like dabbing perfume on her
wrists, brushing her hair, going through her morning routine, had
Harm completely mesmerized, and he was as much in love with her now
as he was four years ago, when he watched her walk down the aisle on
the Admiral's arm. He fell in love with her again every morning when
he opened his eyes and saw her next to him.

He was about to put on his shirt when Mac took it out of his hands.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Harm, I'm late."

"What? It's not even 7:30."

"Hey, you're getting better at that. You're not even wearing a
watch!"

"You must be rubbing off on me. But seriously, what's the rush?"

"No, Harm," she said, and she took his hand and placed it on her
abdomen. "I'm *late*."

Harm's eyes narrowed in concentration, and then it dawned on
him. "L-late? How late, Mac?"

"Late enough."

Harm's face lit up in pure joy. "You - you mean..."

Mac smiled too. "Yes, I mean. So whaddya say, daddy, think you're
up for another round of diaper changes and sleepless nights?"

"No, but if it means giving Roz a baby brother or sister, I can't
think of anything I'd love more." Their daughter, Rosalyn Mackenzie
Rabb, was almost four years old, and had been begging for a sibling
since the moment she was old enough to understand that's what AJ and
David Roberts were to each other. "How far along are you?"

"I don't know. I'll make an appointment with the doctor this week."

"All right, but make it for the evening so I can be there too."

"Is that an order?"

"You bet it is." Harm and Mac joked like this pretty often since
she'd left the Marine Corps a few months ago, when they had
started "trying" again. Rosalyn's daycare was costing a fortune, and
they agreed that when they had two little ones running around, one of
them should be home. Harm was a bit surprised when Mac volunteered
to forgo her career. Other than asking her if she was sure about a
million times before the paperwork was complete, he didn't put up
much of an argument. Mac constantly stressed what a dream
come true being a stay-at-home Mom would be. She was determined to
give her children the love and attention her own childhood so
severely lacked.

And Harm certainly had no desire to leave the Navy. Not when he had
fought tooth and nail to stay in. He was lucky Mac felt the way she
did; he knew with things that meant so much to them - both their
careers and their children - a standoff between them could cause
World War Three.

But so far, Mac was quite enjoying her time at home. Roz was a quick
learner, and Mac loved to sit with her and watch Sesame Street, too
see how good she was getting with words and numbers. Mac even signed
up for an evening cooking class. With Harm at work all day, she
figured it was the least she could do, so instead of cooking when he
got home, he could spend that time with Roz. Not to mention it gave
Mac some time out of the house twice a week. Time with new faces.
Adult faces.

"I love you, Mrs. Rabb," Harm said, and he pulled Mac into a warm
embrace before kissing her slowly and fully. After breaking the
kiss, Harm bent down until he was face to face with Mac's
navel. "And you, in there, I love you too." He pecked a kiss on
Mac's stomach. "You enjoy it while it lasts, little one, 'cuz I'm
sure Mommy's making it warm and cozy in there, but in nine months,
you're gonna be out here in the cold, cruel world."

"Jeez, Harm," Mac teased. "Now I'll be pregnant forever. He'll
never want to come out."

"He?"

"Just a hunch."

"Yeah? You think maybe we've got another Navy pilot on our hands?"

"Whoa...I didn't say that. He should probably learn to walk and talk
before you take him in the cockpit with you, dontcha think?"

Harm shrugged and smiled. "I dunno, babe. I wasn't much older than
that."

"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Hmmm..." Harm thought, looking out at nothing in particular. "The
reservations go so quickly. I wonder if I can book the chapel at the
Academy twenty five years in advance."

Mac had to laugh. "Harm, we don't even know for sure that it's a
boy."

"Oh, it is. Definitely. I'm having way too much fun." Harm resumed
getting dressed and buttoned his uniform jacket while Mac made the
bed.

"Hey," Mac complained, "what makes you think Roz won't be a Navy
pilot?"

"Nothing would make me prouder. But if she looks anything like her
mother in twenty years, she'll be a supermodel instead."

"Well, if not, she'd join the Marines anyway. Sorry to burst your
bubble."

"No daughter of mine will ever be a jarhead."

"Well, no son of *mine* will ever be a squid."

They both had to laugh at their stalemate. At least they had another
thirteen years to worry about it. "Come here, you," Harm said,
wrapping his arms around her. "Maybe jarheads aren't so bad.
Because you have made me happy beyond anything I ever imagined," he
whispered into her hair.

"And you, me," Mac replied. Her life with Harm was everything she
ever dreamed it would be. They had their spats now and then, but
nothing to cause alarm, and they kept good on their promise to never
go to bed angry. Overall, Mac felt loved, cherished, and respected
as she never had before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two Days Later

Since they had said goodbye in the park, Sergei hadn't been able to
get Chloe's smile out of his mind. It was amazing, the changes that
could take place in just five years. She was still young, but
practically a grown woman. Sergei reached for the phone and dialed
Chloe's number, hoping she hadn't eaten yet.

It rang several times, as Chloe searched for the cordless phone among
piles of laundry, scattered papers, and empty coffee cups. Sergei
was about to give up when she finally answered.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Chloe?"

"Oh, Sergei, hi!"

"How did you know it was me?"

"'Cuz I don't know anyone else with a Russian accent."

"Is it that bad? I thought my English was getting better."

"It is. I mean, never mind. Your English has always been great."

"Well, have you eaten dinner yet? Maybe we can see how my Italian
is."

Chloe checked her watch. "Um, no, and I'm starved, but I have class
at 6:30."

Sergei eyed the clock. 5:15. "Well, we have enough time for
something quick then, no?"

"Sure, I guess so." Chloe gave Sergei the address of a pizza place
near her dorm, and they met there twenty minutes later. Sergei
ordered two slices of pizza, while Chloe opted for a calzone, which
turned out to be enormous. She dug right into it, eating quickly and
greedily.

Sergei chuckled. "Mac would be proud."

"Huh?" Chloe said, through a mouthful of food. "Oh, sorry," she
swallowed. "I've been on the go since 8:00. This is the first thing
I've had all day, except a coffee."

"This is not a good way to live."

"Well, such is the life of a college student. You know how it is."

"Actually, I don't. When I finish school, I help my mother on the
farm, and then I join Russian Army. That's where my education was,
and as I remember, there were a lot of sleepless nights, but
certainly no pizza, and no classes about movies."

"I'm sorry," Chloe said regretfully.

"Please, don't be. You did not know."

"Well, I can tell you, my classes aren't all fun and games. It's not
like we sit there every day watching movies; we're learning how to
make them. In fact, I'm having a lot of trouble with two of them."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Which ones?"

Just then, a waiter came by with another beer for Sergei and a refill
for Chloe's Coke.

"It was diet," Chloe said, to make sure.

"Yeah, I got it," the waiter replied.

When he was gone, Sergei asked, "Why do you drink diet soda? It has
no taste."

"Talk to me in your next lifetime, when you're a girl and your
roommate wears a size four."

"Chloe, that is ridiculous. You look fine."

She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, my class in capturing real life drama
is giving me a hard time, and screenwriting is kicking my butt."

Sergei laughed. "Screenwriting? Why is that, what did you say,
hitting you in your backside?"

"I don't know. Everyone else seems to have these incredible life
experiences to draw from, to turn into something fictional and
entertaining."

"And you don't think you have these?"

"Me? Of course not."

"Chloe, you underestimate yourself. You're from a small town,
surviving on your own in the big city. Your father's a Marine. My
brother told me you were missing a long time ago, and Mac found you
with her ESP, or visions, or whatever you call it. I would pay to
see a movie about that."

"You'd pay to see Mac on the big screen."

"If it wasn't so oily, I would throw this slice of pepperoni at you.
I would see it because you wrote it."

Chloe had no witty reply, so she just smiled and shook her head, and
continued devouring her calzone.

"You must be really hungry," Sergei joked again.

She nodded. "God, you must think I'm such a pig."

"No, I think you're a girl who hasn't eaten all day."

"Anyway, how were the pigeons today?"

"Huh? Oh, I didn't see them. Something came up at work."

"Everything all right?"

"Yes. Glasnost is still alive and well."

"Huh?"

Sergei groaned. "Ugh. Before your time, I fear. Now I feel like an
old man."

"You're not old, Sergei. Just think of poor Harm, practically fifty."

"Well, not yet," he chuckled, "but in a few years. Hey! Speaking of
him, have you--" he stopped short, not knowing if he was about to
spoil the surprise.

"You mean about Mac?" Yeah, she called me this morning. It's
awesome!"

"Yeah, I guess you and I will be uncle and 'aunt' again."

"Oh man," Chloe lamented, "I'm gonna have to start saving right now
for a gift. She'll have a baby shower, and I'm up to my neck in
loans."

"Don't worry about that. Mac will appreciate you just being there."

Chloe smiled. "That's sweet, Sergei, but sometimes I think you have
a lot to learn about America."

"That's funny. Sometimes I think it is *America* that could learn
from *me*."

Chloe laughed and glanced at her watch. "Oh wow! I've gotta run.
Class starts soon."

"Can I walk you there? It is dark out."

Thanks, but I'm fine. Believe me, I know these streets like the back
of my hand."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm taking a shortcut, and you'd never find your way back."

"You underestimate the navigation skills of a Russian Army helicopter
pilot."

"Well, maybe if we were in Minsk, but this is the Village."

"Okay. It's just that..."

"That what?"

"I was having a good time. I guess I didn't want it to end. I don't
go out very often here."

Come on, you're probably out with a different woman every night, and
they probably all look like Victoria's Secret models."

"No. Just Russian tourists who lose their passports, or get parking
tickets. And believe me, most of them should not wear lingerie.
Ever."

"I'm sorry your work is so boring."

"It isn't usually. Just lately. Anyway, I bet you're out with many
boys, no?"

Chloe laughed. "Niet. Definitely not. If I didn't see my
reflection in the mirror every morning, I'd think I was invisible."

"Don't say that. But look, we have so much catching up to do. Can I
steal you away from all those boys this Saturday night? I want to
take you someplace nicer than this. Someplace where we don't bring
our food to a table on plastic trays."

"Um, yeah, all right. I think I'm free. But I really do need to go
now." She threw some cash down on the table for her half of the
bill, grabbed her bag and headed for the door. She turned around and
called, as a joke, "Hey Sergei, is that a date?"

"Do you want it to be?"

"I..." she stopped, in shock. "I don't know."

"Then I don't know either."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday Night
Ginji Japanese Restaurant, Front Street NYC
19:00 EST

It was a mild night, so Sergei waited outside for Chloe. He saw her
come down the street toward him and he couldn't help himself. He was
captivated by her, but had no idea why. She was just a friend,
practically a cousin, and she certainly wasn't the prettiest girl
he'd come across in New York. Nevertheless, ever since
he had seen her in the park, five days before, the city had come
alive for him. The autumn leaves were more splendid in their
changing colors, brilliant bursts of red and yellow, and the sounds
of cars and sirens were becoming less like noise pollution and more
like music. Not to mention New Yorkers themselves seemed more
pleasant. He seemed to come across more smiles than scowls, but
maybe that was just a reflection of his own suddenly improved outlook.

Sergei watched Chloe approach. She eschewed the hip-hugging jeans
and skintight shirts that were the staples for most girls her age,
and he liked that about her. She wasn't sure how nice the restaurant
would be, so she chose something dressy, but not overly so. Tonight,
she wore a black skirt with black tights and a winter white cableknit
sweater. The Indian summer was warm enough that she didn't wear a
jacket, but threw a long black scarf around her shoulders for
effect. For someone with the low self-esteem she seemed
to exhibit, Chloe was a true nonconformist, and to Sergei's eyes, she
was truly a vision.

Over dinner, the two caught up on the past five years. Sergei's
second time around in the U.S. has proven much more successful than
the first. He was doing very well in Washington. So well, in fact,
that he had been given this special assignment to the consulate in
New York. He was reluctant to leave the Capital; he had a nice
apartment, loved spending time with his niece, and was even taking
some American history classes at the community college. But he
couldn't refuse the offer, and Harm and Mac agreed it was
probably a good idea for Sergei to experience life in another city.

Chloe loved everything about New York. The frantic pace of things
got to her once in a while, but for the most part, she thrived on
being able to do anything at anytime. The summer was her favorite.
She stayed in the city the previous summer as an intern for a
production company.

"I didn't get to meet any stars," she told Sergei. "In fact, I was
more like the sandwich girl, but the company will still look good on
my resume."

Harm and Mac encouraged her to go for pre-law, but Chloe had her
heart set on film school. Mac was a little disappointed that she
expressed absolutely no interest in the armed forces, but she knew it
wasn't for everybody. Besides, Mac would joke, she could always go
to OCS after college.

After a delicious sushi dinner, Sergei and Chloe walked down to the
South Street Seaport. As on so many nights, a small band was playing
on the pier, and various other street performers were putting on
shows.

As they made their way down the pier, through the crowds and around
the mall, to where the view opened up to the river and the Brooklyn
Bridge, Chloe took in all the lights, the sounds, and the people.
She took a slow, deep breath of the night air by the water. "Don't
you just love all this?" she asked, sweeping her arms around.

Sergei smiled. "Most times. Sometimes it is too much for me. So
many people, so much noise."

"Not me," Chloe replied. "I think there are more people on this pier
right now than in my entire hometown."

"But I bet your hometown smells better than this," Sergei joked.

"That's just the fishmarkets. This part of the city would be nothing
without them."

They walked on, and Chloe became chilly in the breezy air by the
water. Sergei removed his jacket and wrapped it around her.

"That's not necessary, Sergei."

"Of course it is. Harm would kill me if he found out I wasn't a
gentleman."

"Are you going to tell Harm about this?"

"About what?"

"That we had dinner."

"I have dinner every night," Sergei kidded. "I don't think he's
interested."

"No, I mean that we had dinner *together*."

"Chloe, I'm a grown man. I can have dinner with whomever I want."

"Yeah, but this is me and you. He might want to know."

"What's to know? Two friends went to dinner."

Seizing an extremely rare moment of bravado, she asked, "Is that all
we are? Friends?"

She had no idea where her courage had come from. Maybe because she
knew nothing would come of it. She was a sight for his sore eyes,
nothing more. She was certain of it. In almost a year and a half at
school, she had been on three dates, all of which went nowhere. It
was a tough pill to swallow, but she had finally accepted the fact
that she was the "friend," and never the girlfriend. The girl all
the guys came to for advice about other girls. Girls who were
taller. Or thinner. Or blonder. Sometimes it felt like her
intelligence was a liability. A turnoff. Why else did all the no-
talent airheads get all the guys? No sir, Chloe reasoned.
She'd never attract a decent guy, let alone one like Sergei.

Sergei liked the implication of the question, but didn't want things
to move too fast. After all, they had just met again five days ago.
Not to mention he was almost ten years her senior. "Do you want to
be more?"

"I don't know."

Sergei smiled, imitating their conversation from earlier in the
week. "I don't know too."

Chloe turned around and leaned on the railing. Sergei stood next to
her, with his arm around her. Together, they watched ships pass in
the distance, as the lights from the bridge danced on the dark water.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three Months Later (January 2009)
Home of Capt. Harmon Rabb, Jr., and Sarah Mackenzie Rabb
18:00 EST

Mac put a lasagna in the oven, and with Rosalyn half asleep in front
of cartoons, she stepped into a deliciously warm bubble bath. They
had gone shopping for clothing, and for a new winter coat for Mac,
which she would need soon enough as she got too big for her old one.
But Roz had acted up all day, and it wore dramatically on Mac's
patience. She had the bad, and to Mac's mind, dangerous habit of
wandering away in crowded department stores and not holding her
mother's hand in high-traffic parking lots.

Mac let the gardenia scented bath water and complete silence slowly
erode away her stress. Just as she was drifting off to the lovely
sleep that beckoned to her, she heard Harm calling her name.

"Mac? Mac?! Where are you?"

"I'm in here," she answered.

Harm stood outside the door. "Something's burning, Mac. Don't you
smell it?"

Mac jumped up out of the tub and threw on her bathrobe, tiny soap
bubbles still clinging to her body. She opened the door and was hit
with a wave of a burnt smell. "The lasagna! Dammit!" Mac ran
downstairs to the kitchen, with Harm on her heels. She put on oven
mitts and opened the oven door, releasing a cloud of dark smoke. She
pulled the baking dish out and slammed it onto the stove. "Great,"
she muttered. "Now what are we gonna eat? Destroy the food, destroy
my child, I can't do anything right, can I?" she burst out,
and took off running upstairs.

Harm stood there, dumbstruck. He had no idea what Mac was talking
about, but first thing was first. He opened a window to let the
smoke out, and went into the living room to see if the commotion had
woken up their daughter.

"What's wrong, daddy?" she asked, still lying on the couch.

"It's nothing sweetie. Go back to Big Blue Bear while I check on
mommy."

"Just bear, daddy. Bear in the Big Blue House."

"Well, whatever," he said with a smile.

When he got upstairs, he could hear the shower running. He figured
Mac was probably just rinsing the bubbles off, but fifteen minutes
later, the water was still on. "Mac?" he called, knocking on the
door. There was no answer. "Mac, honey, can I come in?" He heard
Mac unlock the door, and a minute later, he opened it to see her
sitting on the edge of the bathtub as her tears fell liberally. He
reached over and turned off the water. It amused him how still,
after almost five years of marriage, she didn't want him to hear her
cry.

"Mac, what's the matter?" he asked, and he sat next to her.

She sniffled. "I ruined dinner. What are we gonna do?"

"Mac, for goodness sake, we can have something delivered. Or I can
cook. This is not the end of the world."

"Yes it is!" Mac wailed.

"Okay, we're not talking about the lasagna anymore, are we?"

"Your investigative skills really come in handy, don't they."

Harm ignored her comment. Mac was obviously very upset, and by
countering her, he'd only make it worse. "Come on, Mac. What's
going on?"

Mac sniffled and a few more tears fell before she answered. "I hit
her."

"Who?"

"Roz. She was misbehaving and I was stressed and I got angry and I
hit her! God, Harm, I'm no better than he was. I hit my daughter
and I'm turning into my father!" She continued sobbing and Harm
gathered her in his arms, his uniform shirt getting wet from her
tears.

"Mac, you are nothing like Joe Mackenize, do you understand me?
NOTHING."

"But we agreed we'd never punish our kids that way."

"I know we did, but we also agreed it might be necessary sometimes."

"It's never necessary! Is it necessary to raise my hand to my child
and have her be afraid of her own mother?!"

"Come here," Harm said softly, as he pulled her onto his lap. He
held her to him and smoothed his hand along her back. "It's all
right, baby. It's okay." He waited for her to stop trembling and
for her breathing to even out. "You want to tell me what happened?"

"We were shopping for clothes today, and she was just not behaving at
all. She was giving me a hard time about everything, and she must've
wandered away from me four times in the mall. But the last straw was
when we went back to the car. Harm, you know how crazy that parking
lot is. People speed around the turns and don't even look. Well, I
had all the bags to carry, so I told her to stay close to me since I
couldn't hold her hand. But she ran ahead and missed getting hit by
a car by about two seconds. I grabbed her and when we got to the
car, I really let her have it. God, I'm so sorry!"

"Why? I think you did the right thing."

"What?"

"You heard me. We agreed that if it was something really dangerous
like that, or like playing with matches, it was all right to
discipline that way."

"But--"

"But nothing," he said, and he lifted her chin so she would look at
him. "Believe me, I know from experience. These crazy, yuppie time-
outs don't always work. Sometimes there's nothing like a good smack
to teach a lesson. Especially for something like running out into
the street."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't have made it past my 8th birthday if my mom hadn't
had such a strong hand."

Mac managed a smile. "She probably hates me."

"Roz? Nah. She'll be mad at you for a few more hours, and then
she'll forget all about it. But I bet she'll never run away from you
again, and that's the important thing."

"So you don't hate me?" Mac asked.

"Of course not. Sarah, I love you. You are my wife, and the mother
of my children. I trust you one hundred percent, and if your
instinct was to give Roz a spanking, then I trust that, too."

"Sometimes I think I don't deserve you, Harmon Rabb, Junior."

He smiled. "Well, I *know* I don't deserve you, so we're even. Now
what do you want me to order, pizza or Chinese?"

"Pizza," she replied. "Extra cheese, sausage, and pepperoni."

Harm rolled his eyes.

"Hey, I'm eating for two!"

Harm chuckled. "Two what - humpback whales? If you want to give
birth to a thirty pound baby, that's your decision."

She considered his warning. "Okay flyboy, no pepperoni."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Same Week
Madison Square Garden, NYC

"Go go Mario!!" Sergei shouted, as the player in jersey number 66
tore his way down the ice on a breakaway.

"I can't believe you're not cheering for the home team," Chloe said.
She knew almost nothing about hockey, but knew enough not to cheer
against the Rangers at home.

"Chloe, you don't understand. You are in the presence of greatness.
It is a privilege to watch this man play the game."

"What's so great about him?"

"Where would I begin to explain? Even in Russia, Mario Lemieux is a
legend, and I'll leave it at that. And see number 27, Alexei
Kovalev? He's from a village not far from where I was born.
Russians are some of the best players in the NHL."

At the end of the second period, the Pittsburgh Penguins were leading
the Rangers 3-2. Sergei and Chloe left their seats to get hot dogs
at the concession stand.

Chloe had a hard time understanding all the different penalties being
called, and the obscure rules for icing and offside had her baffled.
Nevertheless, she was having a great time. She and Sergei had spent
time together during the past few months, but it was usually for her
schoolwork. She was taking a two-semester course in real life drama,
to culminate in a student-written and produced documentary. The
first semester was spent interviewing Sergei and finding a good focus
for the project. The next few months they would film it, and have
what Chloe hoped would be an insightful, entertaining look at the
life of a Russian immigrant in the 21st Century.

This was the first time in a while they had gone out for fun. It was
just the beginning of the semester, so Chloe could spare the time.
She had spent Christmas break with her family in New England, but
Sergei had returned to Washington for the holidays. He mentioned a
girl he'd been spending time with in New York, but he clammed up when
Harm and Mac pressed him for details. He did say she was a student
at NYU, and both thought that was a bit young for him, but they let
it go. He told them he was helping Chloe with her movie. Mac asked
if they would film it in Chloe's dorm room, and kidded Sergei not to
break any hearts among the young, supple coeds.

Chloe and Sergei both enjoyed the hockey game, and enjoyed each
other's company even more. After that night at the Seaport, neither
one brought up again the possibility of being more than friends.
They always had a good time together, but both saw an element of the
ridiculous in them having a relationship. A 19 year-old girl who'd
never left the east coast, and a man seeing 30, who had seen and done
more than most people twice his age.

Nevertheless, neither one could deny that something was building
between them. Something good. Something exciting, even if they
couldn't define it exactly. They spent many hours together working on
Chloe's film. For the first time, Chloe found herself completely at
ease around a handsome man. She chalked it up to the fact that there
was nothing to be nervous about. Sergei was a grown man, who, like
his brother, could steal the heart of any woman in the world with
little more than the flash of his smile. No, she had mousy brown
hair, a plain face, and certainly wasn't headed for any magazine
covers. She could be herself around Sergei because there was no need
to impress him.

Funny, how that was the very thing that had Sergei so enchanted.
He'd been on his share of dates since coming to New York, but all of
the women were way too eager to please. He could tell they held
something back, that they only said what they thought he wanted to
hear. He'd take them to good steakhouses and they'd order small
salads with sparkling water. It infuriated him.

Chloe's independence was a welcome change. She ate like a normal
person, and he loved listening to her talk, especially when she
disagreed with him. She had strong opinions and wasn't afraid to
assert herself. At first, he just liked working with her, but after
a few weeks, he found himself using her project as an excuse to spend
time with her. He didn't even know it had happened, but one day he
realized he was completely captivated. Maybe Chloe wouldn't win any
beauty contests. So what. The more he got to know her, the more
beautiful she became.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One Month Later (February 2009)

One weekend, Chloe went to the mall with her friends Heather and
Jen. They went from store to store, trying on much and buying
little. They were rummaging through the sale racks in a trendy
clothing store, looking for bargains they could afford on their
miserly student existences.

Jen held up a skirt in front of her. "Look at this," she said to the
other girls. "It's huge! All they have left is sixes and higher.
Way too big for me."

Pity, Chloe thought. Poor Jen who can't find anything to buy for her
tiny, nonexistent waist.

"Oh, boo-hoo," Heather mocked. "Oh, size six, it's sooo big.
Please. I'd kill to be a six."

"And I'd kill to be an eight, so we've all got problems," Chloe
said. Trying on clothing was always an adventure in disappointment.
Each button that didn't meet, every zipper that wouldn't go up, was
like a powerful hand, pushing her further down into the dark depths
of self-loathing. In frustration, Chloe threw the shirt she'd been
looking at back onto the rack. She turned to go, but thought better
of it and folded the shirt just as she'd found it.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Heather said. "There's one more
store I want to hit."

"Where?" Jen asked.

"The lingerie store. This week is me and Will's anniversary. I want
to get something new."

Chloe rolled her eyes, and allowed herself to be dragged along by the
other girls. The store was filled with an array of garments, ranging
from terrycloth bathrobes to sheer bras, to lacy, racy camisoles, all
in a range of bold and pastel colors. Soft classical music played
throughout the store, as if, Chloe mused, the little
touch of class and sophistication could entice women into spending a
fortune on a slip of barely-there material that some guy would just
have you out of in five minutes anyway.

Chloe continued looking around in amusement. The store had its own
line of skin and beauty products, and she tried several of the
scented lotions and sprays. Soon, they all blended together until
she smelled like a mix of rose, apple, pear, and a blue lotion that
was supposed to smell like the sea.

Jen was holding a few bras, and Heather had masses of silk and lace
draped over her arm.

"We're gonna try these on," Heather told Chloe.

"Okay. I'll wait out here."

"Chloe," Jen said, "why don't you try something on? You know you
want to," she pushed.

"And just what would I do with something like *that*?" She pointed to
a sheer nightgown hanging nearby.

"Oh, I bet Sergei could think of a few things," Heather teased good-
naturedly.

"More than a few," Jen joined in.

"Me and Sergei, we're...we're not like that."

"Not yet, you mean!"

"Probably not ever. Seriously, we haven't even kissed. We're just
friends."

"Liar. All those hours you've spent with him, you mean to tell us
nothing ever happened?"

"No, we were working."

"Working...is that what they call it these days?"

"Really. We *were* working." Yeah, Chloe thought. It was
definitely hard work to keep her mind on her project when Sergei was
so honest and open about his life. So funny. So easy to talk to.
So handsome. She never worked harder than when she concentrated on
taking notes while Sergei sat so closely to her, occasionally
standing behind her, looking over her shoulder to make sure she was
getting everything. It took effort like never before to keep her
focus when she could smell his cool cologne, and feel his breath
tickling her neck.

"Come on," Heather said. "Just grab something and try it on."

Chloe sighed. "All right." Something had caught her eye when she
entered the store, and she went to get it. It was
uncharacteristically feminine for her - a soft pastel pink, down to
mid-thigh with a small slit, and spaghetti straps.

"That's more like it!" Jen cheered.

The girls proceeded to the fitting rooms to try on the clothing.
After a few minutes, Jen lamented the poor fit of a padded, push-up
bra. "Chloe, don't feel so bad. I've got a tiny waist, but I've got
tiny boobs to match. I guess my sorry chest needs a bigger "miracle"
than padding and underwire."

"Oh man," Heather called out. "Will's eyes are gonna pop out of his
head!"

Chloe undressed with her back to the mirror. When she had the slip
on, she had to admit, the cool satin felt delicious against her
skin. This is it, she thought. She swallowed hard and turned
around. She could hardly believe the sight reflecting back at her
from the mirror.

I look good, she thought. I actually look good.

The cut showed off her curves and flattered her in all the right
places. Jen was right, Chloe thought, as she looked down at the V-
shape of the lace just above her rounded cleavage. Being a little
bigger did have *some* advantages. She continued modeling for
herself, enjoying how the special lights in the fitting room
somehow made her skin look flawless and radiant.

She pulled her hair out of the ponytail it was in and let the long
brown locks spill down her back. She could hardly believe how she
glowed, and looked, dare she think it, desirable, like a graceful
Guineviere waiting for the dashing Lancelot to take possession of
her. She shook her head. I've been reading way too many
fantasy books.

But...still...She ran her hands slowly up her hips, in toward her
waist, and out again as she skimmed her torso and reached her
breasts. She dragged her fingers along her collarbone and neck, just
barely touching the skin, all the while imagining they were Sergei's
hands instead of her own.

"Chloe, how does it look?" Jen asked.

"Yeah, come out and show us," Heather encouraged.

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Of course. Come on, we wanna see."

Chloe took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the curtain.

Jen gasped. Heather's eyes went wide. "You look gorgeous!"

"Chloe, that is *fabulous* on you."

"I don't know. It's forty bucks. And besides, why would I even need
it."

"You look great in it," Heather repeated. "Get it. Get it.
Getitgetitgetit!!"

"Yeah," Jen added. "And you know why you'd need it. Besides, you
owe it to yourself once in a while. Buy yourself something nice."

She let them talk her into it, but truth be told, she liked the idea
of owning it. If nothing else, then on lonely nights, she could put
it on to sleep in, and pretend Sergei was there next to her.

She reluctantly handed the cashier her credit card. At the minimum
wage, it would take her several hours working in the campus bookstore
to earn that money. It was too bad they couldn't bottle the
wonderful, soft lighting they used in the try-on rooms. Now that,
she would pay for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 Months Later (April 2009)
Home of Capt. Harmon Rabb, Jr., and Sarah Mackenzie Rabb

This week was Mac's last cooking class for the semester. She was
sorry to see it end. Sorrier than she cared to admit to herself.
She had left the Marine Corps almost a year ago to be with Roz and
the baby that would be on the way, but she hadn't realized how much
of herself resided in that uniform. Or, if not the uniform,
then in the challenge of her job. The people at JAG, and later, at
the Pentagon. The intelligent arguments.

She loved being a mother more than she ever thought possible, and she
knew that should be enough. But somehow, it wasn't. In her heart,
she felt something was missing. She looked forward to her class every
week; it was a change of scenery. A night out of the house. A night
with people her own age.

Of course, she had met a few women her age when she picked Roz up
from preschool, but the majority of the women were much younger than
she was. And she could brag about her daughter with the best of them,
yet still, something nagged at her. There had to be more to life
than fingerpaint and building blocks.

Anyway, Mac was lucky that Bud and Harriet still lived in the area,
and Harriet didn't mind watching Roz while she was at class. In
fact, Harriet loved it. She had two boys, and so when Mac asked, she
jumped at the chance to play dolls and dress-up with her goddaughter.

Over the past few months, Mac felt like she'd been losing pieces of
herself. She was no longer a Marine, but a woman, bored and lonely.
Harm, on the other hand, was busier than ever. AJ had wanted to
retire years ago, but was convinced to stay on as the JAG for a while
longer. So many baby boomers had retired in the past few years and
it was difficult to find a qualified replacement. The Navy finally
appointed someone, but AJ would stay on a few more months to guide
him.

As the most experienced attorney at JAG, Harm had the toughest case
load. Also, he and Skates, who was now a Lieutenant Commander, co-
taught a seminar on perilous flying at Norfolk twice a week. It was
the closest to pilots and flying jargon he could at his age, and he
loved every second of it.

When he asked Mac if she would mind him doing it, she had mixed
feelings. He was already gone all day during the week, so she wasn't
happy about losing him for two evenings, too. But she saw the light
in his eyes when he talked about it. He truly was born for aviation,
and if standing in some classroom with his former RIO, talking about
pulling Gs with a bunch of younger flyboys brought some of that back
into his life, she couldn't deny him it.

Mac heard Harm come through the door, and she started setting the
table for dinner. Harm stopped in the kitchen to give Mac a kiss
before going upstairs to change out of his uniform. "Smells good,"
he said, opening one of the pots on the stove.

He came back down a few minutes later in casual clothing, and was
surprised to see two tall candles burning on the table, which was set
for two.

"It's just us tonight," Mac said. "Roz is sleeping. She's running a
slight fever."

"Is she all right?"

"Yeah. I think something's going around in her class."

"Why don't you sit down," Harm said, and he pulled her chair out for
her. "I'll do the rest." He placed the food on both their plates
and filled two wine glasses with grape juice. They ate quietly for a
few minutes, both enjoying the peacefulness.

"Victor," Mac said out of the blue.

"Huh?" Harm asked through a mouthful of pasta.

"Victor. Don't you think that's a nice name?" They had been trying
to pick out a name for their son, who was due in three months.

"Sure, I guess. What made you think of it?"

"Victor Galindez. Don't you think that would be special?" Their
friend the Gunny had been killed during a mission in Afghanistan
years before. It was an enormous blow to everyone at JAG, to lose a
fine Marine, not to mention a good friend with an easy smile, and
always a kind word. The Admiral had called in a few favors and Gunny
was buried at Arlington.

"Victor Harmon Rabb," Mac elaborated.

Harm smiled and stared at his wife, radiant in the warm candlelight.
He put his linen napkin gingerly on the table and walked over to
her. He kneeled beside her and gave her a slow, tender kiss. "I
think, Mrs. Rabb, that that is a wonderful name."

They went on eating, and as usual, Harm filled Mac in on the events
of the day at JAG. "Speaking of Gunnys, we got a new Gunnery
Sergeant today. Young guy, to help around at Ops. Anyway, get this,
he knew Singer when they were little. Grew up on the same street.
Apparently, she was no different back then. Used to charge sales tax
at her lemonade stand. You should've heard some of the things the
Admiral said about her. I didn't even know some of those four-letter
words existed, and I've been around sailors most of my life."

Harm went on and on about all the fun and new people at work. Mac
listened dutifully, as she had almost every night since she'd left
the Corps. Most nights she was good about concealing her envy, but
she had spent the past three weeks shopping for a carseat, baby
hamper, and several other larger items they hadn't kept around after
Rosalyn outgrew them. Her biggest help came from Consumer Reports
magazine and input from Harriet, with hardly any assistance from
Harm. She felt like she was doing everything by herself, as if Harm
thought she'd have an easy time of everything since they'd gone
through this once before. But these days, Harm was oblivious to
anything but his career, and being six months pregnant was not
working wonders for Mac's restraint.

"The Admiral this. Bud that. JAG JAG JAG! Can't you talk about
something else for five damn minutes?!" She got up from the table
and stormed out of the room, a move which, although she wasn't very
big yet, still took great effort.

Harm followed her into the living room. "Mac, what's this about,
huh? Where's all this coming from?"

"Oh, I don't know. You're the bigshot lawyer, the fast talker. You
tell me."

"Why are you so mad? Did I do something?"

Mac rolled her eyes and looked away. "Yeah," she muttered under her
breath. "You were born with a Y-chromosome." She turned to go
upstairs.

"Hey! Don't walk away from me! We need to talk about this."

"No, Harm. For once, we *don't* need to talk. Sometimes there are
things I don't feel like talking about. I'm not one of your clients,
and you can't just chat with me for ten minutes and then map out all
my problems and tie it up in a neat little bow. Sometimes there are
problems and we just have to accept them and move on."

"I don't have to accept anything and 'move on.' Especially if you're
upset about something. Something I obviously did. Now sit down and
talk to me."

Mac let out a sigh and relented, letting Harm lead her to the
couch. "Harm, remember when you had your ramp strike?"

"As if I could forget."

"Well, I bet that afterward, all your flyboy buddies came by to wish
you well and tell you how it wasn't so bad."

"Yeah, they did. But what's that got to do with--"

"But it *was* bad. The worst. And I bet every time one of those
pilots said that flying wasn't everything, you wanted to strangle
him."

Harm couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Yeah, I did."

"Well, how do you think I feel? All you ever talk about is JAG.
Your career. Like you're rubbing my face in it."

Harm was stunned. He had no idea he'd been doing that, but as he
considered Mac's words, he realized she was right.

"Oh, Mac. I...I had no idea. I'm sorry. I guess sometimes I forget
you're not at JAG anymore. I thought you'd want to hear about it."

"I do, Harm, but not all the time, to the exclusion of all else."

"Honestly, Mac, I never realized how much I go on. How come you
didn't say anything sooner?"

"Just good at holding my tongue, I guess."

Harm smiled. "You and I both know that's not true."

"Well, I feel like...being a wife and mother should be enough. I
should get enough happiness from making a good home for you and our
children."

"But?"

"But it's *not* enough. Not by a longshot."

"You miss your career."

She nodded, her eyes beginning to tear. "I don't know who I am
anymore."

"Mac, you were an excellent lawyer and an outstanding Marine. It's
only natural you would miss it. The question is, what do you want to
do about it?"

"Well, nothing until this little guy is outta here," she said,
patting her belly. "And I don't think I want to work full time. I
mean, not until he and Roz are older, anyway. But Harm, I've got to
get out of this house. I'm going crazy."

"Well, how about the Reserves? They always need good officers, and
you could probably work part time at the recruiting station right
here. Ten minute commute."

"Maybe. And...you wouldn't mind me working again?"

"Sweetheart," he said, smoothing a stray lock of her hair, "I want
you to do whatever you need to to be happy. And if that means
spending some more money on babysitters, then so be it."

"You really would be okay about me getting another job?"

"Of course, Mac. But I want to make sure - you're not doing this for
me, are you? I mean, you know I don't think any less of you for
staying home. That you left the Corps to be with our children is
something I can never fully thank you for. Being parents is the most
important job in the world, and since the moment I met you, no matter
what cosmically stupid things I've said to you along the way, I never
pictured anyone else being the mother of my children."

"Really?"

"Really," he answered, and he reached up to brush away her final tear.

"Then...then how come you don't want me anymore?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Harm, you haven't touched me in weeks. I'm huge and you think I'm
unattractive."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"You're completely turned off by me." She stood up slowly to leave
again.

"Whoa, whoa," Harm said, holding on to her. "Mac, I am completely
mesmerized by you. I am in awe of how you change every day. I don't
care for one second that you couldn't put on a bikini right now. Your
body is bigger because our *son* is growing inside you. Do you have
any idea what a miracle that is? In a way that I'll never fully be
able to comprehend, you are feeding and protecting something that is
part of both of us." He kissed her stomach and then her cheek. "You
might *feel* unattractive at the moment, but my God, Mac, you getting
bigger because you're carrying our child is about the sexiest thing
I've ever seen. In fact, the only thing keeping my hands off you
every second of the day is my concern for that little baby
inside you."

"The doctor said it was fine."

"But your first labor was so hard. And you're four years older now.
I think you should take it easy."

"I think you should let me decide what's best for me," she said
softly, and she planted tender kisses all over his face, and ran her
hands along his chest, pressing lightly against the muscles she could
feel underneath his T-shirt. "I want you Harm," she whispered, as
her hand moved down to the button on his jeans. "I love you."

Harm closed his eyes and his breath caught as Mac continued her
gentle foray. "I love you too, Sarah," he managed.

"Show me, Harm. Please. I need you to show me how much." She
barely whispered out the words before Harm covered her mouth with
his, and kissed her more deeply than he had in months.

When they finally parted, Harm reluctantly pulled Mac's hand away
from his growing arousal and stood up to lead her to their
bedroom. "Come on," he said. "What if Roz wakes up? We need to
take this upstairs."

"And lock the door."

"Aye aye, ma'am."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1 Month Later (May 2009)
Sergei's Apartment, NYC

Chloe's project was due in two weeks, and tonight was the last night
of filming. After this, she would spend the say editing and studying
for her other exams. Chloe filmed out of sequence, and tonight she
was just getting Sergei to talk about his thoughts on New York. She
tried to act like a professional, but it was becoming harder and
harder to keep her composure around him. Especially when they had
been working so closely together, and when Sergei's sea-colored eyes
sparkled so brilliantly in thr bright camera lights.

Sure, they had gone to a hockey game or two and shared a few
dinners. And there had been times when, if she didn't know any
better, she would've sworn Sergei was flirting with her. But
tonight, his part of the project would be over, and so would their
working "relationship." Sergei could go back to drooling over
Anna Kournikova, and Chloe could go back to blending in with the
walls.

The camera was rolling. and Sergei went on about how huge the city
was, and how hard it was to meet people who were genuine. "A man
could get lost in himself," he said.

"But a good-looking guy like you must have an easy time meeting women
here," Chloe prompted, off-camera.

Sergei raised one eyebrow, turning on the Rabb charm. "You think I'm
good-looking?"

Chloe blushed and turned off the camera. "This movie is not about
what I think."

"Then since we are off camera now, you can tell me."

"Of course I think so." The words were out of her mouth before she
could stop them.

"Better looking than Harm?"

She laughed. "Apples and oranges, Sergei. Harm's old enough to be
my grandfather."

Now it was Sergei's turn to laugh. "Not quite, but I get your
point. And I'll...take it as a yes?"

Maybe it was the stress of the upcoming exams. Maybe it was the
bottle of wine she and Sergei shared earlier that evening. But
something pushed her to say it. "That depends. What question are
you asking now?"

"Would it be all right if I kissed you?"

Chloe nodded slowly. "Definitely a yes."

Sergei cupped her face in his hand and their mouths met in a soft
kiss. Sergei pulled back slightly, and after seeing no objection on
Chloe's face, he kissed her more passionately.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long," he told her.

"What held you back?"

"Harm. Mac. You. Me."

"Why?"

"Why who?"

"Any of us."

"Well, my brother and Mac because they will think I am, how do you
say, stealing the baby?"

Chloe smiled. "You mean, robbing the cradle?"

"Yes, that's it. And you, because you are a young, beautiful girl.
You should be dating all the smart guys at your university. And then
you will move to Hollywood to make movies and be rich and famous and
you won't even remember me."

"I'll always remember you, Sergei. You were my first."

He stared at her, his face wrinkled in confusion.

"Movie, I mean."

Sergei laughed. "Movies! Right! Your first movie."

"Besides, I've been here two years already, and the most attention
I've gotten from a guy at school was my chemistry lab partner. And
that was only because he was usually to high to do any of the work,
and he'd buy me flowers and candy to make up for it."

"I find that hard to believe."

Chloe shook her head. "Sergei, I don't know how things were in
Russia when you were my age, but let me break it down for ya.
American guys? Not exactly standing in line to date short girls with
plain hair and unremarkable faces."

"Then maybe you need to forget about American guys," Sergei whispered
before kissing her again. Her mouth met his eagerly. "So how about
you? Do *you* think I'm robbing the cradle?"

She stared into his eyes and shook her head slowly. "I'm not a baby,
Sergei."

He studied her up and down. "No, you're not." With that, he placed
his hands on her hips and pulled her toward him.

They sank into Sergei's couch, finally, needfully, giving in to the
feelings that had been building since the previous Fall. Their
mouths explored the other's while Sergei's hands roamed over Chloe's
back. Quickly referring to some of her more chaste fantasies, Chloe
kissed her way down the side of Sergei's face, stopping at his neck
to nip ever so lightly with her teeth and then kiss more forcefully.
She undid the top buttons of his shirt to expose his collarbone,
kissing every inch of him that was new to her.

Sergei had a hard time keeping his mind focused, thanks to his
quickening pulse, but he gently pushed Chloe so they were face to
face and he could kiss her again. Though he could easily have sat
back and gotten lost in Chloe's gentle touch, he wanted to make sure
she enjoyed every minute as well. He repeated her motion, kissing
the feather-soft skin at her neck until he reached her earlobe. He
lavished attention on it until Chloe moaned softly and shivered as
the sensation tingled its way to every part of her body.

Chloe continued massaging Sergei's back and arms, but she tensed when
she felt his hands at the buttons of her blouse.

"Relax," Sergei whispered, his breath warm against her cheek. "If
you want me to stop..." Chloe shook her head and brought his hand
back to the buttons. Sergei made his way down, unbuttoning as he
went. He slid Chloe's shirt slowly down over her shoulders, his
fingers barely whispering caresses along her collarbone.
"My favorite color," he said, taking in the blue lace bra she wore.

Chloe was almost lost to Sergei's actions, but struggled to keep
enough presence of mind and make sure he wasn't neglected. She had
envisioned this so many times, and each time, she tried to give
Sergei as much pleasure as he gave her. Maybe she had something to
prove. And maybe an amazing man really did want to be with her.
Maybe she wanted to be good to him. Good for him. Good with him.

With Sergei's help, she pulled his shirt up and over his head,
exposing his wonderfully masculine chest to her for the first time.
She traced abstract patterns along his warm skin, all the while
watching the needful look in his darkening, smoldering eyes. Sergei
let her explore for a few delicious minutes, and then he
leaned back into the couch, his hands warm on the small of her back
as he drew her down with him. He reached around her to unhook the
clasp at her back, and both let out heavy breaths at their skin
finally making contact.

Sergei assaulted Chloe's neck and shoulder with powerful kisses, and
Chloe reveled in the feel of Sergei's muscles against her soft body,
finally understanding how addictive another person could be. How
this was the most natural way to express the connection between
them. How good it felt to be noticed. To be.....

"Wait!" Chloe said, giving weight to the air, which before had been
light with breathy sighs. She rose away from him and sat upright on
the couch, holding her shirt to cover herself.

"What is it?" Sergei said, slightly out of breath. He reached over
to caress her arm.

"I...I...this is too fast for me."

Sergei sighed and hung his head.

"I'm sorry." Chloe quickly put her shirt back on and stood up to
gather her things.

Sergei grabbed her hand. "Please, no. It is I who am sorry. We
just kissed, and I...I went too far. I should be more patient.
There is no rush for us."

Chloe spoke nervously. "Is there an us?"

"Of course there is. What do you think we've been doing all these
months?"

"I don't know. We were making my movie. We were working together.
I...I mean, I sensed, or hoped, there was something happening, but--"

"Something was happening. And is happening. More than your movie.
You know that, don't you? Haven't we both known it?"

"I don't know. I thought you were lonely or something. That you
needed a friend."

"You are more than a friend."

"Sergei, please, you don't have to say that. And we don't have
to...to...I'll understand if you don't want--"

"If I don't want what? You? Why do you say such things? I don't
understand you sometimes. I'm not with you because I'm desperate."

Chloe froze.

"That didn't come out right. I'm trying to say, I don't kiss women
because I'm lonely, or needing someone. I kiss a woman only if I
love her."

"Then...then..."

Sergei smiled and cupped her face in his hand. "I love you, Chloe."

"You do?"

"Yes. Is it so hard to believe?"

"Yes. No. I mean...I love you too. You just have to excuse me
sometimes. This is all so new to me. Everything. I'm not used to
it."

"Well, get used to it, because I'm not going away."

"You better not," Chloe said, and she smiled and sniffled away the
last of her sadness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2 Weeks Later
Harm and Mac's House

Chloe's final exams prevented her from attending Mac's baby shower,
but now the semester was finished and she and Sergei drove down to
see Harm and Mac for the weekend. Sergei still had a few weeks to go
on his assignment in New York, and Chloe needed to clear out her dorm
room.

Mac was clearing away the dishes from lunch, and Harm was in the
living room playing with Roz when they arrived. Harm went to the
door, practically tripping over Roz, who followed at his heels.

"Hello, brother," Sergei said cheerfully.

"Uncle Sergei!" Roz exclaimed.

"Do I know you?" he joked, bending down to meet her eyes.

"You forgot me?"

Sergei smiled. "Of course not. You're my favorite niece in the
world!" It wouldn't hurt Roz not to know she was his only niece. He
picked her up and swung her around while the room filled with her
delighted squeals.

"Hey, Chloe, great to see you," Harm said, and they hugged.

"You too. Now where's there very pregnant wife of yours?"

"Coming," Mac called as she waddled over. "Sorry. I'm not exactly
moving quickly these days."

"Oh, Mac!" Sergei caught his breath. "Being with child has only made
you more beautiful."

"Told you," Harm said to her.

"You're a bad liar, Sergei, but we're glad you're both here. We
haven't seen you in so long. Come, sit down."

Sergei reached for Chloe's hand as they walked over to the couch, a
move that did not go unnoticed by Harm and Mac.

"So, Chloe," Mac began, "how were your finals?"

"Not too bad. Four As and a B."

"Not bad? That's great!"

"Thanks. And that movie I made about Sergei got the highest grade in
the class."

"Really?" Harm asked. "I can't wait to see it."

"I don't have a copy with me now, but I'll bring one when I come back
this summer."

"You better," Mac said. "And Sergei, how about you? Are you king of
the hill? Top of the heap? Have you made it there? Can you make it
anywhere?"

Huh?"

Harm smiled. "It's from a song. Mac's twisted way of asking you how
things are in New York."

"Oh! They're good. Great, in fact." He took hold of Chloe's
hand. "Getting better every day."

Harm and Mac eyed each other suspiciously. "Uh, is there something
you want to tell us?" Mac asked.

Chloe looked at Sergei. "You want to say it or should I?"

"Chloe and I are...together."

"Together?" Mac asked.

"Dating," Chloe clarified. "A couple."

"What?!" Harm exclaimed. "How...what...since when?"

"Two weeks ago," Sergei answered.

"Though really, it started a while ago," Chloe added. "When we
started working on my movie. I guess we had feelings for each other
long before we realized it."

"But thankfully," Sergei said, "unlike some people, we didn't take
seven years to figure it out."

Harm jumped up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Mac put a hand on his arm. "Harm, calm down." She turned to Chloe
and Sergei. "Well this is certainly...interesting."

"And wonderful," Chloe said.

"Wait a minute," Harm said. "THIS is the NYU girl you told me
about? Chloe?! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I thought you might react like this. And I was right."

"React like what?" Harm was getting defensive.

"Like we're crazy."

"Well, you are!"

"Why? Just because I'm a little older than she is?"

"Ten years is more than a little, Sergei."

"We don't even notice," Chloe said. "We have a great time together."

"Harm," Mac spoke up, "I think I need to have a little talk with my
sister. Alone."

"Good idea. Sergei, why don't you and I go for a walk."

"The last walk of a condemned man?"

"Yeah," Harm muttered. "Something like that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"All right, spill it," Mac said after the men were gone.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything. Start talking."

"Well, we ran into each other one day in the park, around October. I
had no idea he was in New York. Anyway, we exchanged numbers and
went out a couple of times. Nothing special, a slice of pizza now and
then, some action movies. To be honest, I think he was kind of
lonely. And I didn't mind spending time with him. Lord knows my
weekends were wide open."

"What are you talking about?" Mac asked. "You have a ton of friends
there."

"Friends, Mac. Girlfriends. And we hung out, but eventually, most
of them found boyfriends, and my Friday nights became pretty
pathetic."

"Didn't you think it was strange Sergei wanted to be with you so
often?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, he's so much older than you. Why wouldn't he want someone
closer to his own age?"

"Mac, come on. It's not like he's pushing seventy-five. Besides,
like I said, at first I thought he just needed a friend, and excuse
me if I preferred his company over staying in my room alone."

"I...I just don't get it. You've always known a lot of guys."

"No, Mac. I've had friends who are boys, but no boyfriends."

"But--"

"But nothing. They're not exactly banging down my door, and they
never have been."

"So you jump at the first guy who is?"

"First of all, I didn't 'jump.' Sergei and I worked together for
months before we even kissed. We got to know each other, and then it
just...happened. And second, well..."

"I'm listening."

"Look Mac, you know I love you. So I don't want you to take this the
wrong way, but not everyone can be five-foot-nine, thin, and wear a C-
cup. And women who are will never understand women who aren't. So
when a good-looking, kind, considerate guy showed interest in me,
yeah, I was interested right back."

"But why Sergei? Why not someone a little younger?"

"Because someone younger never notices me. Sergei's old enough to
appreciate things in a woman besides long legs and a dumb giggle.
Mac, for the first time in my life, I feel good about myself. I feel
like I'm worth something. Sergei believes in me. He makes me feel
beautiful. I never had anyone try so hard to make me happy, in every
possible way."

Chloe's last words caught Mac off guard. "Are you sleeping with him?"

"Mac! Not that it's any of your business, but not. Sergei's been a
complete gentleman and hasn't even brought it up."

"Don't let him pressure you, Chloe."

"He would never make me do anything I didn't want to."

"That's a nice thought, but I don't trust any man when it comes to
that, not even my brother-in-law. Do you at least know how to
protect yourself?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Mac, they taught us sex ed every year from
the time I was eleven until college. I know all about condoms and
stuff."

"I was referring to a good, sharp knee to the groin, but yeah, those
work too. When you use them right."

Both women wouldn't help but laugh. And good thing, because it eased
the tension between them. "Look, Chloe. I just worry sometimes.
When I was even younger than you are right now, I made some insanely
stupid choices when it came to men, and I lost a chunk of my life
getting my head back on right. I love you, and I don't want you to
make the mistakes I did."

"I appreciate your opinion, and I know you're speaking from
experience. I love you too, Mac, so when I choose to ignore your
advice, that should tell you how strongly I feel about Sergei. How
right it feels being with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harm and Sergei walked around the neighborhood, and Harm gave Sergei
a very similar lecture.

"Why her, Sergei? Why Chloe?"

"Why not her?"

"Maybe because you're old enough to be her father."

Sergei smiled. "No, brother. But *you* are."

"Ha ha. Seriously, Sergei, in all of New York City, you couldn't
find even one woman old enough to buy a beer?"

"Harm, of course I met older women. But being a certain age doesn't
make someone a good person, or smart, or kind. You know who I met
before Chloe?"

"Who?"

"Renee."

"Huh?"

"Well, not really her, but a ton of women exactly like her. Nice
faces, but painful to talk to. I could get off just looking at them,
but I'd rather take an AK-47 to my head than have a conversation with
them."

"Okay, but why Chloe?"

"She's everything they're not. Intelligent, funny, caring."

"Do you get off just looking at her?"

"Don't be disgusting."

"I...I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. But I still don't get it. I
think Chloe's a sweet girl too, but Sergei, she's in preschool!"

"Harm, open your eyes. She's a lot more mature than you give her
credit for. Believe me, I know."

Harm stopped dead in his tracks. "What? Is that your way of telling
me you slept with her?"

"Out of respect for her virtue, that is none of your business."

"Oh God, you did. Mac's gonna kill you. Right after I do it first."

"Harm, please, we have not been intimate. Not yet, anyway."

Harm sighed. "Why not someone else?"

"Well, brother, let me ask you. Why Mac? Why not someone in the
Navy? Or why not a civilian? Some demure, submissive woman who'd do
exactly as she's told and make a perfect officer's wife?"

"I don't know. We can't choose who we fall in love with. It's
always been Mac. I never wanted anyone else."

"Exactly. We can't choose. Our hearts choose for us, and mine is
screaming Chloe's name."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harm and Sergei came back to the house a little while later, and Harm
and Mac talked in their bedroom while Chloe and Sergei went out to
the car to get the baby gifts they'd brought from New York.

"Man," Harm said, "what is the world coming to?"

"I know. I mean, can you imagine, Chloe and...*Sergei*. What is she
thinking?" While they talked, Mac folded some clean laundry and Harm
put it in the dresser drawers.

"Wait a minute - I could say the same about Sergei. You make it
sound like this is his fault. Are you saying my brother's not good
enough for Chloe? Because a girl could do a lot worse than a son of
Harmon Rabb Senior."

"Power down, Harm. That's not what I said at all. I just think
Sergei should find someone his own age."

"Well so should Chloe."

"I don't know, Harm. Sergei has the upper hand. What does a grown
man want with a nineteen-year-old girl, anyway?"

"Are you implying his intentions are anything but noble?"

"No. But I worry about Chloe. When I was even younger than she is,
I was naive and taken in by a smile and empty words. I wasn't
getting the right kind of attention, and I ran away with the first
person who made me feel anything besides worthless."

"The right kind of attention. Isn't that what Chloe's mentor is
supposed to provide?"

Before Mac could respond to the snide comment, her body was seized by
a sharp pain. She shut her eyes and held her breath, bracing her
hands on the laundry basket. Harm dropped the shirt he was holding
and ran to her. "Mac! Honey, what is it?!" She just stood there,
grimacing against the pain. "Mac, talk to me!" Finally, it
subsided, and Mac took a few deep breaths. "Should I take you to the
hospital?!"

Mac patted Harm's hand. "No, Harm, it's fine. Our son is just
trying to kick his way out early, that's all."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, now calm down, please."

"Easier said than done, Mac. All this stress cannot possibly be good
for you, or the baby. Why don't we table this discussion until after
Victor makes his debut. Who knows, they might even be broken up by
then."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3 Weeks Later (June 2009)

Harm had, of course, been wrong, and Sergei and Chloe's relationship
was getting better every day. However, the same could not be said
for Harm and Mac's marriage. After their discussion a while back,
Harm was more considerate of Mac's feelings and tried to keep the JAG
talk to a minimum. But slowly but surely, they both reverted to
their old ways, with Harm going on about his cases and the class with
Skates, which, fortunately for Mac, was almost over. And Mac did all
the housework and kept her husband's dinner warm when he worked late,
which seemed to happen more often than not.

Tonight was the last straw. It was midnight and Harm hadn't even
called to say he'd be late. Mac was due very soon, and it was not
sitting well with her that her husband was unaccounted for. She sat
on the couch, brooding in the dark, waiting to pounce the minute he
walked through the door.

Finally, she saw him come in. He clicked on the lamp and very
quietly hung up his jacket. He turned to go upstairs and saw Mac out
of the corner of his eye.

"Mac!" he gasped. "You startled me. I thought you'd be asleep."

"Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry. I know I should've called. But things kept coming up."

"What things?"

"I don't know. Just things. I was grading papers with Skates over
dinner, and we lost track of time."

"Grading papers?"

He nodded.

"And you 'lost track of time?'"

"Yes," Harm said flatly.

"Are you sleeping with her?"

Harm laughed out loud. "Are you on crack?" He started toward the
kitchen for a glass of water, but turned around when Mac didn't
laugh. She stared at him stoically. "Oh my God. You're serious."

"You didn't answer my question."

"That question doesn't *deserve* an answer. Skates is happily
married, and so am I."

"Are you?"

Harm went back toward the couch and sat on the coffeetable across
form Mac. Even in the dim light, he could see the anger in her
eyes. "Of course I am, Mac. Why would you ever think otherwise?"

"Because I never see you anymore."

"Mac, I know I've been busy lately, but that has nothing to do with
us. They just appointed the new JAG and I'm getting him acquainted
with our personnel, and on top of my case load, there's this class,
but this is the last week of it. You know that."

"But something will take its place. Something always does with you.
JAG replaced flying; Sergei replaced your father. Talking shop with
Skates replaced spending time with me and Roz."

"Whoa. I took that job with *your* blessing."

Mac ignored him. "It was just a matter of time until you replaced
me."

Harm's eyes went wide. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

Mac kept talking as if he wasn't even there. "I should've seen it
coming. From the first moment. You had just gotten a DFC. I
should've known a little gold ring could never measure up to that.
It's only natural you would flock back to people who understand you.
Who understand that feeling, flying fighter planes. God, I'm such an
outsider. I always have been. I can't believe I didn't see this a
thousand miles away. Guess you weren't the only one with screwed up
vision, huh?"

Harm sat and silently listened to Mac's accusations. Were they
true? Maybe at one time. Maybe, when he made the great error of
leaving his law career to chase a dream that had ended long before,
whether he wanted to admit it or not. But not anymore. Not for a
long, long time. He had never meant anything more truly than when he
vowed to forsake all others for Mac - man or machine. Would she
*ever* get it? How many times had they had this conversation? He
couldn't do it again. Not tonight.

"Mac," he said, standing up, "I don't know where this is coming from,
but I...I can't do it. I can't have this conversation with you over
and over. It's like talking to a wall. I've gotta get out of here.
I need a beer."

"Where are you going? To get drunk?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Guess I'm no better than Joe Mackenzie, huh?"

"Until you hit me."

"Don't you dare. Don't you DARE say something like that to me. I
would never, EVER raise my hand to you. Or our children!"

Mac's stress and fatigue were getting the best of her. "Oh no? Come
on, Harm, I bet you could. I dare you. Real men never refuse a
dare, right?"

Harm's shock and anger caused him to do the unthinkable. He raised
his arm back as if to strike her. "You want me to, Mac? Huh?! Is
this what you want? Sometimes I think it's the only way to get
through to you!" He watched himself in slow motion, and stopped
himself, suddenly nauseous, when his hand was still in the air. He
brought his arm back down to his side. His mouth opened and closed,
but he was unable to form even a single word. He ran to get his
jacket and keys and slammed the door behind him.

The last thing Mac saw before her eyes were blinded by tears, were
the taillights of Harm's car as he sped away from the driveway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mac sat there for a while, until no more tears would fall. What had
she done? She hated herself so much in that moment that she couldn't
stand being alone with herself. She went upstairs to wake Roz and
get her in the car. She didn't bother to clean up her face. She
just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. She
drove to the home of two old friends, praying they were still awake.
She whispered her thanks heavenward when she pulled up outside and
saw their lights still on.

Roz was half asleep, and leaned against Mac's legs as Mac knocked on
the door. Clayton Webb rose from the couch to see who could possibly
be at the door at this hour. His heart lurched when he saw it was
Mac, looking disheveled, and her face stained with tears.

"Mac! What's wrong?"

"Oh, Clay!" she wailed.

"What is it?! Did something happen to Harm?"

"Yeah," she sniffled. "Me."

"What? Come on, get in here," he said, and he ushered Mac and Roz
inside.

"Who is it, Clay?" Webb's long-time girlfriend, Teresa Coulter, came
out of the kitchen, dressed in pajamas, drying her hands on a
dishtowel. Clay and Terri had met years before when she was in
Afghanistan helping with forensics. They hit it off and had been
together ever since. "Oh, Mac, my goodness, what's the matter?"

"I think my marriage might be over."

"That's ridiculous," Webb said. "Harm needs you more than the air he
breathes."

Mac shook her head. "He left and I don't even know where he went."

"Is something wrong with daddy?" Roz asked, stifling a yawn.

Terri bent down and smiled. "Oh, no darlin'. Your daddy's just
fine. Hey, you look sleepy. If you'd like, I've got a cozy bed
upstairs with your name on it."

Roz nodded. Terri took her hand and turned to lead her upstairs.

"Thank you," Mac mouthed silently.

Webb led Mac to the couch.

"You look...different," Mac said, taking in the sight of Clay in
flannel pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt. "No suit?"

Webb rolled his eyes. "I don't *sleep* in 'em, you know. And don't
distract me. Mac, first of all, are *you* all right? I mean, the
baby, everything's okay, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, good. Now you want to tell me what happened?"

"Oh God, Clay, it was horrible. I accused him of having an affair!"

"What? With who?"

"Elizabeth Hawkes."

"Skates?"

"You know her?"

"I'm CIA. I know everyone. And Mac, that is completely ridiculous."

"I know! I don't know why I said it! He was late, and I was angry
and stressed, and dammit, I'm eight months pregnant!"

Webb bit his lip to keep from smiling at that last part, glaringly
obvious as it was. "Let me say it again, to make sure your really
understand this, Mac. That Harm would cheat on you is absurd. Since
the moment he met you, he's had blinders on to every other woman in
the world."

"Well then he's stupid because I don't deserve him."

Terri came back downstairs, dressed in jeans and a cream colored
blouse. She brought Mac a glass of water from the kitchen. "Roz
fell asleep the minute her head hit the pillow."

"Thanks again, Terri. I'm sorry to barge in on you guys at this
hour."

"What are friends for?" Terri said.

"Yeah," Web added. "Besides, I probably owed you a favor anyway."

"Listen," Terri said, "I'm gonna see if I can't track down Harm and
talk some sense into him. That is, if it's all right with you."

Mac nodded. "Thanks. He shouldn't be alone, and I'm probably the
last person he'd want to see right now."

Terri gave Webb a kiss before grabbing her purse and heading out.

Mac smiled. "You're great together."

Webb nodded. "Yeah, we are. And to think, you and Harm introduced
us. How long have you two been married now?"

"Five years."

"And how many fights have you had? And I mean fights, not arguments
about the thermostat or leaving the toilet seat up."

"Including this one? One."

"One? For goodness sake, Mac, that's a miracle. Every marriage is
bound to hit a few bumps in the road. The fact that it took five
years before you hit the first one should tell you how amazing you
and Harm are together."

"I don't know, Clay. I have nothing to compare it to. My parents
fought all the time, and from there, it was just a free-for-all of
emotional and physical abuse."

"Physical abuse? Mac, did Harm hit you?!"

"No. Never. Not even when I asked him to."

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

"Mac, the bottom line is, you are an incredible woman, in every way.
And I wouldn't put it past him, but Harm would have to be stupid
beyond all imagination to walk away from what the two of you have
after one fight."

"You're just saying that so I'll cheer up and get out of here."

"No, Mac, I'm not." He took hold of her hands. "Y'know, there was a
time, a long time, in fact, that I wondered if you and I might
ever...I mean...from the day I met you, when you chased after your
uncle and the Declaration of Independence, I thought, man, now
*there* is a woman who could keep me on my toes. You were so
beautiful and so feisty, and I was so furious and so attracted at the
same time, I hardly knew what to do with myself. But eventually, I
figured it out."

"And what's that?"

"To leave you alone, or Harm would rip my heart out and use it as a
paperweight."

Mac laughed. "Damn you, Clay, I'm supposed to be upset."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Terri drove around the city and stopped at some local watering holes,
looking for Harm. She finally found him at the fourth one, and he
had as many empty shot glasses in front of him, plus a fresh beer on
the bar. She sat down next to him and ordered a Diet Coke.

Without looking up, Harm said, "If you're here to take my keys away,
don't bother. The best thing I could do right now is plow into a
telephone pole and smash my skull in."

"Harm, you're drunk."

"Judges, we have a winner."

"Come on, let's get you some coffee."

He pushed her arm away. "I don't want any coffee."

"You'd rather sit here and drown your problems?"

"Nothin' wrong with that."

"Not always, but not when your wife shows up at my house in tears."

"Terri, dammit, you know I'd never cheat on Mac."

"I know that, and so does she."

"No, she thinks that Skates and I--"

"No she doesn't, Harm. She's scared, and tired, and lost. Her life
has changed a lot this past year. She left the Marines to raise your
daughter full-time, and now there's another child on the way. I
think she just needs more support than you realized you needed to
give."

"I'm a rat."

Terri smiled. "No, you're a man, and sometimes you need people to
point things out to you in black and white."

"More like black and blue."

"Huh?"

Harm shook his head and reached for his beer. Terri watched as the
liquid sloshed around and spilled over the edge of the glass as
Harm's hand shook. She followed the motion up his arm to see the
rest of his body shaking too, his shoulders wracked with the
beginning of a good, solid cry. She took the glass from him
and set it back on the bar.

"Teresa," he choked out, "I almost hit her."

"What?"

"I raised my hand and...I swear, I don't know how I stopped myself."
He shut his eyes tightly and buried his face in his hands. Terri
scooted her barstool closer to Harm's and wrapped her arms around
him. She held him like that, patiently waiting while he let go of
himself. She had always cherished their friendship, and
felt especially privileged to be someone he trusted enough to see him
with his guard down. Probably the only person in the world, besides
Mac.

"But Harm, you didn't hit her, right?"

"No," he sniffled. "But I came so close. Scared the hell out of
me. I can never face her again."

"Don't be silly. Of course you can. She loves you."

"Not if she knows what's good for her."

"That's the alcohol talking."

"Well, it makes more sense than I ever did."

"Harm, your wife is at my house right now, crying her eyes out to
Clayton because she's afraid she's going to lose you."

"It'd be the best thing that ever happened to her."

Terri was exasperated. "Harm, why is it so hard for you to believe
you deserve to be loved?! A brilliant attorney, a hero pilot, a
friend through and through, and hell, just plain the damn sexiest
thing on two legs. Any woman would be lucky to call you her husband."

"Sexy, huh?" Harm said huskily, and he ran his hand slowly up Terri's
thigh.

She pushed it away. "Bourbon's a dangerous drug, Harm."

"Did you ever think about...us?"

"Yeah."

"And just what did you think about?"

"I used to wonder if maybe one day, the handsome Commander might see
me as a woman, and not just some free ticket to forensic evidence."

"The handsome Commander...and the southern girl...a cool lemonade on
a hot back porch in Georgia somewhere..."

"The flyboy Adonis. Firm principles but a gentle touch. Isn't that
what every country girl wants?"

"You have a beautiful smile." He slurred the words, his eyes
focusing on her mouth.

"Don't distract me Harm, because you could. So easily. There was a
time when I wondered what it would feel like...kissing you."

"And your accent..." he said in a breathy whisper. Harm leaned
toward her, his mouth approaching hers.

Terri placed a hand on his chest and kept him at a distance. "Harm,
you're in about as deep as it gets. Don't make it worse. If you let
me finish, there was time, but it's over now. Mac loves you with
every fiber of her being, and I am happily involved with Clay."

"She's just...she says one thing and does another. She wanted me to
do the class with Skates, and now she's enraged over it. She's so
damn cryptic sometimes."

"Try dating a CIA agent. Come on now, let's get you that coffee.
And I'll drive."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two coffees and an hour and a half later, Harm was sober and feeling
like complete dirt for flirting with Terri.

"Harm, it's all right. You didn't know what you were doing."

"You won't tell Mac, will you?"

"Of course not. As long as you don't tell Clay I used to fantasize
about you."

"Deal. So, when the heck is he gonna propose to you, anyway?"

Terri laughed. "He wants to, but his mother's a bit of an issue,
even at our ages. Clay loves her very much, and he would never go
against her wishes."

"And that's a problem because..."

"Because she's extremely proper. Fine linens, polished silver,
dressed to the nines. She wants Clay with an 'appropriate' wife."

"So?"

"Harm, I may have the accent, but I'm no southern belle. I was about
horseback riding and car racing, not cotillions and society balls."

"Then you should buy a monster truck, drive out to Vegas and elope,
because you two belong together."

"So do you and Mac. Now you drive your sorry, sober ass home and
tell her so."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harm and Mac's House
03:30 EST

Harm opened the door quietly, not wanting to wake Mac. But she was
on the couch, drifting in and out of sleep waiting for him. Driving
home, Harm had prepared a long speech to smooth things over. But when
he saw Mac, large with their son inside her, the words dissolved,
replaced by the desperate need to hold her.

He made his way to the couch and Mac sat up. Their eyes met, tears
threatening to fall for both of them. Harm opened his arms and Mac
gratefully sank into them.

"I love you, Sarah," Harm said, his voice breaking.

"I love you, Harm." Mac began to cry as well.

They clinged tightly to each other for a long while, the only sounds
their sniffles and the ticking of the clock on the mantle.

"How did we get to this point?" Harm asked.

I don't know. But is it over? Are we past it?"

"I hope so."

"I hate fighting with you," Mac said sadly.

"Me too. The last thing I ever want to do in this world is hurt you,
and yet it seems like that's all I'm capable of."

"No way. Don't you blame yourself for this. Tonight was all me.
Or, rather, the crazy bitch from hell who gets inside my head every
now and then."

"Mac, honey, is there some way I can get her to go away, permanently?"

Mac sniffled and the final tears dried on her face. She shook her
head. "No. I have to do it for myself. But it's a good start
having you next to me."

Harm nodded. It was difficult to accept that there were things about
his wife he'd never fully understand. Troubles he couldn't take
away, pain he couldn't ease. But he had his own, he knew. "Well, I
hope she's tired, because you and I are both falling asleep, and we
promised never to go to bed angry."

"Well, we better make sure." She leaned in to him and they kissed
tenderly.

"Come on, Mrs. Rabb. Falling asleep on this couch will be murder on
both our backs."

As they headed upstairs, Mac turned around to him and said, "Harm, I
like Skates. You know that, right?"

"Yeah."

"I always have."

"Good. Because guess what? She and her husband are expecting. So
in ten years, we might all be carpooling to Cub Scouts."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
August 2009

Victor Harmon Rabb was born July 19th, a few days late, already
taking after his father. Sergei was back in Washington, and Chloe
was spending the summer at Harm and Mac's to help Mac with the baby
and keep Roz out of her hair. There had been nights here and there
where she didn't return from Sergei's apartment until morning, but
neither Harm nor Mac ever commented.

One night they all gathered in the living room with a giant bowl of
popcorn and they watched Chloe's movie. Her professors had contacts
at the local news bureaus, and she was able to use some real footage
from the Vietnam era, and the fighting in Chechnya.

The film covered Sergei's life, and his time in Washington and New
York. Chloe's voice off-screen asked him what the first thing was he
did when he got to New York.

"Easy. I went for a ride on the Staten Island Ferry. The boat goes
through Upper New York Bay, past my very favorite sight in the whole
country. Because I was living in Washington for four years, but I
never breathed America until I saw the Statue of Liberty, with her
torch burning for me, lighting my way."

"Your father was American."

"Yes. Shot down in Vietnam on Christmas Eve, 1969." Sergei's voice
could be heard while the sights on the screen were authentic
newsreels from the time. He told the story of how Lt. Harmon Rabb
was moved to a POW camp in Russia, but escaped to live a quiet life
on a farm, and went on to father Sergei. "And now, my brother and I,
all we have left is his voice on some old tapes, his name on a wall,
and our combined memories."

"Your brother?"

"Yes, my brother is American, too." He went on to describe how he
had met Harm, when he was helping a Russian Captain investigate
illegal arms dealings.

"And how does your brother feel about you living in the US?"

"Oh, I think he's very pleased. We both had so little family. I
think it's maybe like having a tiny piece of our father back."

"Does he speak Russian?"

"No, but his wife does." Mac smiled at him. "And my English is very
good, so language is not a barrier for us. Even if it was, I think
there is something deeper between us. Something nothing can break.
Not language, not time, or distance. Not even opposing patriotism.
The bond between brothers cannot be broken by war, nor strengthened
by peace. It is a force unto itself."

Harm leaned over to Sergei, who was sitting on the floor in front of
the couch. He squeezed his younger brother's shoulder. "I know just
what you mean," he whispered.

The end of the film was shot on the outer deck of the ferry. The
final image was of Lady Liberty, seen over Sergei's shoulder, as he
watched her with his back to the camera.

Chloe turned off the VCR and held her breath, bracing herself for the
comments and criticism. Sergei was smiling grandly, and Mac was in
awe of the project, incapable of uttering a single word.

Harm rose from the couch and walked slowly over to Chloe. He put his
hands on her shoulders and locked eyes with her. "You grew up so
fast. I blinked one day, and now, here you are, a woman of vision."
Chloe blushed. "This was..." he shook his head, searching for the
right words. "This was really special. And the scenes you
chose...my father." He had to stop again. "I don't know what to
say. I know it was a just a project to you, but it feels like a gift
to me. One of the best I've ever received. I'll never be able to
tell you what it means to me."

"And the Oscar goes to..." Mac said. Chloe laughed. "Seriously,
Chloe, this was amazing."

"Thanks. Actually, there's a student film festival next fall, and my
professor wants me to enter it."

"Yeah!" Mac cheered. "You should! Definitely."

"I dunno...I'd be competing against all the seniors, and they had
some great projects this year. Stuff with original scores and
everything."

"Well," Harm said, "you'll never know unless you try, right?
Besides, your movie has something going for it that always wins."

"What's that?"

"Truth."

They all talked for a while longer about the different filming and
lighting techniques Chloe used. Then Harm and Mac went upstairs,
leaving Chloe and Sergei alone in the living room with instructions
to lock the door when they left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harm entered their bedroom in time to see Mac, in a rocking chair,
holding Victor to her breast. He stood there, captivated, as a wave
of pure joy washed over him. "I could watch you do that forever."

Mac smiled at him. "You wouldn't say that if it was *your* nipple he
was guzzling from like crazy. This son of yours can't seem to get
enough of my breasts."

Harm smiled the bright flyboy grin, which even the passing of years
had not dimmed. "Smart boy. Takes after his father." He walked
over to her and placed one kiss on Victor's head and one on Mac's.
By the time he came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth,
Victor had been burped and Mac was settling him in the bassinet for
the night.

Mac changed into a nightgown which showed off the fact that she was
starting to get her figure back. Harm held the blankets open for her
and she snuggled into his warm, waiting arms.

"I don't know how it happened," he said.

"How what happened?"

"How I made every mistake in the book and still wound up with
everything I ever wanted."

Mac yawned. "Dumb luck?" she teased. Even in the dark of the
bedroom, Harm could tell she was smiling.

"The dumbest. But seriously Mac, doesn't it ever scare you? I mean,
there's a little boy who wasn't even here two months ago, and as soon
as I saw him, I never loved anything more in my life, except Roz."

"It's a little hard to believe, yeah. But I've never been scared.
Because you're with me."

"It's...it's just so overwhelming. The very second I saw them, both
our kids, covered in baby goop and all, they had me hook, line, and
sinker."

"Now you know how I felt when you shook my hand in the Rose Garden
all those years ago. Minus the baby goop, of course."

"Yeah? From the first moment? You knew?"

"Yeah. But you know that."

"I know. I just like hearing you say it." He pulled her closer and
placed a kiss on her bare shoulder.

"You know what I like hearing? My name. All of it."

Harm gently rolled them over until Mac was on her back with him on
top of her, supporting his weight on one arm. He paused after each
word to kiss a different part of her face. Forehead, cheeks, and
neck. "Mac...my love...my Sarah...Mackenzie...Rabb." The last was
distorted, for he said it just as his lips met hers, their tongues
dancing together like old friends.

"Something else I wanted to do since the moment I met you," Mac said
when they parted.

"Sarah, baby, *you* are my Rose Garden."


~The End~

(Look for the third part of my "Friends" series, "Friends and Enemies," 
coming soon!)