Title: "On This Christmas Day"
Author: AeroGirl
Email: michaerogirl@hotmail.com
Website: www.jagarchive.com/Aerogirl/main.html
Rating: PG
Classification: vignette, romance (H/M)
Spoilers: "Answered Prayers," "Critical Condition"

Summary: Two people face the holidays alone, only to
discover that, in 
fact, 
they never were alone at all.  A Christmas story set
in season eight, 
but 
separate from and unrelated to "All Ye Faithful."

Disclaimer: Don't own them, but I sure wouldn't mind
finding a flyboy 
under 
my Christmas tree, if you know what I mean.

Author's Notes: Those of you who told me I needed to
do another 
Christmas 
story - you know who you are - don't say I never gave
you anything.  
This 
story basically pretends that "All Ye Faithful" never
happened; also, 
there 
will be no mention of Singer's present condition or
Mac's posting to 
the 
Seahawk.  I'm exercising selective memory.

This story was inspired in part by the Trans-Siberian
Orchestra's album 
Christmas Eve and Other Stories, specifically the
songs "Ornament," 
"Old 
City Bar," and "This Christmas Day."  Not that I'm
getting 
product-placement 
fees or anything, but if you haven't heard it, check
it out.

Finally, this story is for Stephanie, who was brave
enough to ask for 
it.  I 
think you're a lot stronger than you realize, ami.


“On This Christmas Day”


December 23, 2002
1537 EST
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia


	"So when are you hitting the road?"

	Mac grinned, pointing to the empty inbox on her desk.
 "Take a wild 
guess."

	"I see."  Harm surveyed her office from his vantage
point in the 
doorway.  
"This might be as neat as it's ever been in here."

	"Oh, that's nice.  Happy holidays to you, too."  She
rolled her eyes 
and 
stood up, reaching for her briefcase.  "Last chance. 
You're sure you 
don't 
want to come with me?  It's not going to be anything
fancy, and I'm 
sure 
Martha would be happy to have you."

	"You haven't seen Chloe in ages.  You need some
sister time."  He 
smiled at 
the childlike anticipation brimming in her sparkling
brown eyes.  "Give 
her 
a hug for me, though."

	Mac watched him, trying to gauge his real feelings. 
As usual, it was 
no 
easy task, but she suspected that he wasn't nearly as
content as he 
pretended to be.  "You're really okay with staying
here on your own?"

	"I'll hardly be on my own.  I'll hang with Bud and
Harriet and 
everybody 
else on Christmas Eve."

	"And Christmas Day, when everybody else is doing
family stuff?  Come 
on, 
sailor.  You don't have to be the one pulling duty
this week every 
year, you 
know."

	"Mac, the only people I'd go see are out of the
country.  Mom and 
Frank are 
visiting some of his relatives at their place in Spain
- "

	"Must be nice," she commented.

" - and Sergei needs to be with his mother this year. 
Honestly, it 
doesn't 
even matter that much to me.  I'll see them all some
other time.  Why 
should 
someone else get stuck here when I'm available?"

She shook her head.  "Logic isn't all it's cracked up
to be, you know."

"Yeah."  He stepped back to allow her through, then
caught her in a 
quick 
hug.  "I'll see you for New Year's, right?"

"Absolutely.  We're going to put that new TV of yours
to good use and 
O.D. 
on football."

"Now that's something to look forward to.  Merry
Christmas, Mac."

"Merry Christmas to you, Harm."

He watched her disappear through the glass doors, then
turned to look 
over 
the nearly-deserted bullpen.  He'd told her the truth,
he reasoned: he 
really didn't mind being on duty so close to the
holidays.  At least 
there 
were other things to occupy his mind when he was here.
 He didn't have 
to 
dwell on things like Sergei's sudden departure, or his
somewhat 
strained 
ties with his mother ever since the great citizenship
battle, or the 
nagging 
questions in the back of his mind about just what the
hell he was doing 
with 
his life lately.

Then again, like nearly every other office in the
District, JAG HQ 
would be 
closed on December 25th.  For that day, at least, he'd
have to find 
some 
other method of denial.

At 1800, he performed the end-of-day security checks,
returned the 
salute of 
the gate guard, and climbed into his Lexus to head for
home.  As he 
turned 
the key, though, the idea of going home to his
apartment suddenly held 
very 
little appeal, and he decided instead to take a walk
on the Mall to 
think.

It was relatively warm for a Washington December, but
there was still 
enough 
of a chill to make him button up his uniform overcoat.
 He walked along 
the 
unending black wall for a while, barely looking up. 
He'd be back soon 
enough, for his annual pilgrimage on Christmas Eve. 
It would be 
thirty-three years ago this year that his father's
name had been added 
to 
the terrible roll that now comprised this wall. 
Thirty-three years.  
He 
felt ancient just thinking about it.

He paused near the corner of the monument, where the
wall reached high 
above 
his head, and looked down the length of it.  It was an
awe-inspiring 
view, 
and a depressing one at the same time.  Each name,
only about an inch 
high, 
and yet it took something like this to capture them
all.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Harm turned, surprised by the voice.  He'd vaguely
registered the 
presence 
of a figure in a wheelchair as he'd passed it earlier,
and he'd assumed 
it 
to be a veteran, paying respects to a fallen comrade. 
Now, though, he 
could 
see that the chair was in fact occupied by a young
woman, cheeks 
reddened by 
the wind.  "I'm sorry to bother you.  If you'd rather
not be disturbed, 
I 
understand."

"No, it's all right."  He smiled and stepped closer. 
"Can I help you 
with 
something?"

"I was hoping you might be able to do me a favor." 
She held up a piece 
of 
paper and a rubbing crayon, looking apologetic.  "The
name I want is on 
that 
panel right there, and I can't reach it.  Would you
mind?"

"Not at all."  He took them from her and moved to the
wall.  "Just 
point me 
in the right direction."

"Three rows up.  Anthony Garrett."  As he held the
paper over the 
correct 
position and rubbed the crayon across it, recording
the name in relief, 
the 
girl pressed her gloved hands together for warmth.  "I
guess I picked a 
lousy time to come out here.  I've been in town since
September, and I 
kept 
meaning to do this, but it got away from me until
now."

"Not to pry, but you can't be old enough for this to
have been your 
father."

"My uncle, actually.  Specialist First Class Garrett,
to be precise.  
My 
mother still misses him.  Obviously I never knew him,
but ..."  She 
shrugged 
a little, then smiled as he handed her the finished
rubbing.  "Thanks 
very 
much, Commander."

Once again, he was surprised.  "You read Navy ranks?"

"My brother's a comm technician, stationed at
Pensacola."  She extended 
her 
hand.  "Leigh Winslow, by the way."

He took it.  "Harmon Rabb."

Leigh took another glance at his shoulder.  "I'm
afraid I don't know 
all the 
insignia, though.  That's not medical, is it?"

"Sorry - legal.  I'm at JAG Headquarters over in Falls
Church."

"Really?  I'm thinking about law school.  Well, when I
get through 
undergrad, I'll be thinking about it.  I just started
at Georgetown 
this 
fall.  Finished my first set of final exams last week.
 Let me tell 
you, 
that was a good feeling."

She flashed another smile, one that told him a great
deal.  This was a 
young 
woman just beginning on her life's journey, and she
was unashamedly 
excited 
about it.  It was somehow refreshing to see that kind
of optimism in 
her.

Harm looked up at the street level and made an instant
decision.  
"Listen, 
it's freezing out here.  If it wouldn't be too weird
for you, would you 
like 
to go get a cup of coffee?"

Raising her eyebrows, she tilted her head and spoke
brightly.  "Sounds 
good 
to me."

"All right.  Do you need, um - "  He stopped himself
as she deftly 
released 
the chair's brake and wheeled around to ascend the
ramped sidewalk.

"I don't need much," she answered, still smiling. 
"Lead on."

There was a small coffee shop across the street, doing
a fairly brisk 
business even in the frigid weather.  Leigh maneuvered
her chair up to 
a 
corner table while Harm placed their order.

"You're not from around here," he theorized, by way of
a conversation 
starter.  "No one who grew up in a city a like this
would let a strange 
guy 
twice her age buy her coffee."

"Well, I have to believe that anybody who makes O-5 in
the Navy is 
probably 
not a criminal," she pointed out, taking off her wool
cap and shaking 
out a 
mass of dark blond curls.  "But no, I didn't exactly
grow up in a 
booming 
metropolis.  I came here for school to give city life
a try, and so far 
I 
like it."

"You don't have any problems getting around?"

"I have the bus schedule memorized."

"That's not quite what I meant.  Being out here on
your own - that's 
impressive."

As he removed his overcoat, her eyes immediately fell
on his wings.  
"Whoa, 
time out.  You're a pilot, too?  Somehow that didn't
come up before."

"I flew Tomcats for the first part of my career. 
Don't get to do it 
much 
anymore, but it's not something that really goes
away."

"I can imagine.  Well, maybe not."  She took a sip of
coffee with a 
semi-rueful expression.  "You can see why a military
career wouldn't 
quite 
work for me."

Harm weighed his options and chose to press on.  "Tell
me to mind my 
own 
business if you want, but - "

"Car accident," she replied easily, before he could
finish the 
sentence.  "I 
was eleven.  There was some limited spinal damage - I
can feel my legs, 
but 
they exactly function as designed."

"That must have been difficult to get used to."

"I do all right these days.  Like I said, buses really
help me out."  
Leigh 
gave a dismissive shrug and folded her arms.  "But
anyway.  You were 
surprised that I said yes to coffee, but I have to say
I was surprised 
to be 
asked.  Most people are running around in a panic two
days before 
Christmas. 
  Don't you have more urgent things to be doing?"

There was a slightly guarded edge to that query,
slight enough that he 
almost didn't catch it.  Almost.  "Hey, if you're
worried that I see 
this as 
some kind of charity case - "

"I'm not.  At least, not much."  Her confident
expression only wavered 
for a 
second.  "It's just that ... you know, when you spend
your life in one 
of 
these chairs, a certain amount of pity comes with the
territory.  What 
I 
mean is, if you did see me like that, you wouldn't be
the first."

"Well, I don't," he replied in complete honesty.  "If
anything, you're 
doing 
me a favor.  I had every intention of going home and
basically staring 
at 
the walls all evening.  This is a far more
constructive use of my 
time."

His trademark grin made some impact on her, but rather
than being 
dazzled by 
it, she seemed to sense something behind it.  "No
last-minute gifts to 
buy?  
No relatives flying in from somewhere to bug you?"

"Neither.  My brother's away, my mom and I seem to do
better when we 
don't 
talk so much, and my dad ... well, he's the reason I
go to the Wall in 
the 
first place."  He reached for his coffee, looking over
at her.  "You?"

"My gifts are bought, wrapped and mailed.  My
brother's got duty and 
not 
enough leave time to spare.  I thought about trying to
get home for 
Christmas, but with school and all, I don't really
have the funds.  
It's all 
right.  All my cousins promised to call on
speaker-phone from the big 
get-together."

"Still, you'll be away and alone for the first time on
the holiday," he 
persisted.

"I won't be alone."  Her words innocently echoed his
reassurance to 
Mac, 
only hours earlier.  "Besides, I don't see why it
should be any easier 
for 
you simply because you've had to do it before."

She had a point, he had to grudgingly admit to
himself.  "Christmas has 
never been the best time of year for me.  It's when my
dad went 
missing, so 
..." He spread his hands in a helpless gesture.  "I
don't know.  The 
only 
times I've even halfway enjoyed Christmas have been
the times my best 
friend 
has been around, and this year she's not."

"I know what you mean.  The Christmas after the
accident, Nick - my 
brother 
- used all his paper route money to buy this great
sled with an actual 
seat 
on it.  He put on his hockey skates and pulled me
around the lake for 
at 
least an hour.  We've done it every year since, too,
so it's a little 
hard 
to picture Christmas without it."

"The only tradition Mac and I have is running in
different directions 
and 
still ending up in the same place for Christmas Day. 
She's a JAG as 
well, 
so it's not easy, but typically we're either watching
'It's a Wonderful 
Life,' or trying to make cookies, or playing cards
until one of us 
falls 
asleep.  But whatever it is, we're always together,
somehow."

"And this year?"

"Sucks," he answered promptly, which made her giggle
and wince at the 
same 
time.  "She's with her little sister's family.  Chloe
had it rough for 
a 
long time, and Mac kinda mentored her and really
helped her out.  No, 
it'll 
be fine.  Just - you know, ordinary."

Leigh watched him for a minute, a slow smile lighting
her eyes.  "I've 
got 
an idea," she offered.  "Do you have to work
tomorrow?"

"We don't get Christmas Eve off, but there's not much
to do, so we can 
usually bail out early.  Why?"

She was already writing down an address on her napkin.
 "If you have 
time, 
come by this place tomorrow afternoon.  It might help
you get a little 
more 
into the spirit of things.  If nothing else, it'll
give you something 
to 
do."

He didn't even know her, really, but he believed her. 
"I'll be there," 
he 
said quietly.  "Listen, can I give you a ride
somewhere?  It'd be much 
warmer than waiting for the bus."

"As long as you don't drive a Miata or something." 
The look of mock 
resignation she gave her wheelchair, combined with a
sweeping gesture, 
made 
him chuckle.

"Not to worry.  It's an SUV."

"In that case, a ride would be lovely.  Thank you."

He pulled the Lexus up to the front door and looked at
her, silently 
requesting permission.  When she nodded, he reached
down and lifted her 
into 
the passenger seat.  Folding up the chair and placing
it in the trunk, 
he 
slid into the driver's seat.

"I don't let just anyone get away with sweeping me off
my feet, you 
know," 
she remarked as they fastened their seatbelts.  "I get
the feeling it 
would 
be extremely easy to develop a crush on you,
Commander."

At her teasing tone, he had to smile.  "Call me Harm. 
Where to?"

"Actually, it's still early.  What is it, eight or
so?"

"Or so."

"Then you might as well aim for that address I gave
you.  Take a right 
at 
the second light."

Ten minutes later, he was helping her out of the car
in front of a 
nondescript brick building.  "Thank you for the ride,
the coffee, and 
especially the company.  When they spring you loose
tomorrow, you'll 
know 
where to find me.  Take care, Harm."

"You too, Leigh."  He watched her wheel up to the
door, which opened 
when 
she pressed the access button.  As she disappeared
into the building, 
he 
finally spotted a small sign in the window: Horizon
House.

When he got home, he looked it up on the web.  Horizon
House was 
apparently 
a center for disadvantaged and disabled children,
whose parents had 
either 
lost custody or simply been unable to care for them in
the manner they 
required.  The center had a small full-time staff, but
relied heavily 
on a 
number of volunteers, of which he suspected Leigh was
one.  The idea 
impressed him immensely.  Here she was, starting
school in a new city, 
facing more than her share of personal challenges -
and she gave her 
precious free time to others.

Fascinated by this unique young woman and her cheerful
outlook, he 
found 
himself looking forward to the coming day much more
than he'd expected.

** End Part 1/3 **


*********
Part Two

Christmas Eve was a typical winter day in the
District: gray and 
chilly.  
Harm was the only senior officer on duty, making him
the acting JAG, 
and he 
shared the office with only a scattered few of the
young enlisted who 
didn't 
have leave days to burn.  He signed off on a handful
of reports left by 
the 
admiral, then secured the office for the holiday, to
everyone's relief, 
at 
1400.

By 1420, he was walking through the entrance of
Horizon House, drawn in 
by 
the lyrical sounds of children's laughter.  In the
expansive front 
room, 
Leigh was taking a makeshift obstacle course at top
speed, a 
six-year-old 
boy sitting on her lap.  The boy shrieked happily as
she piloted the 
chair 
around sharp turns and through tunnels made from
chairs and bedsheets.

"A new record!" she cried triumphantly as they crossed
the 'finish 
line.'  
The boy put his arms around her neck for a quick hug
before scrambling 
down 
from her lap.  As he neared, Harm could see that the
child had the 
characteristic features of Down's syndrome.  Other
children were in 
wheelchairs themselves, and still others had no
impairments that were 
visible to him.  But each of them lit up when Leigh
looked at them with 
a 
smile that was clearly meant for them and no one else.

Eventually, she noticed the visitor hovering in the
doorway, and she 
waved 
him in.  "Hey, gang!" she called to the group. 
"Remember how I said 
that we 
might get a new friend today?  Can you give him the
special welcome we 
practiced?"

Dutifully, most of the kids jumped to their feet. 
"Merry Christmas, 
sir!" 
they chorused.

Smothering a grin, Harm decided to play along and
snapped to attention.  
"Merry Christmas, everyone," he replied smartly.  Amid
a smattering of 
giggles, Leigh wheeled up to him, still faintly
flushed from the 
earlier 
race.

"You made it."

"I said I would."  Harm tossed his overcoat and cover
on a chair.  
"This is 
quite a place."

And it was.  Christmas lights and decorations were
everywhere, covering 
the 
room with a chaotic, multicolored glow.  It wasn't
fancy by any means: 
the 
furniture was worn in places, and the walls could have
used a new coat 
of 
paint.  But the children's artwork hung everywhere,
creating a warm 
scene.  
Leigh gestured around.  "Well, it's not much, but it's
ours.  I just 
kinda 
stumbled on it soon after I moved out here.  It gets a
little crazy, 
but the 
kids are just wonderful.  They don't realize they have
it tough, so 
it's 
like they don't really have it tough at all."

Just then, a little girl hurried up to them with a
rapid, limping gait 
and 
hurled herself at Harm's legs.  "Cassie, say hi,"
Leigh instructed, and 
Cassie looked up shyly, as if rethinking her actions.

"Hi," she repeated softly.

Harm bent down to her level and smiled.  "Hi, Cassie."
 The little girl 
immediately began to play with his ribbons.  "Okay,
maybe I'd better 
ditch 
this."

"Good idea," Leigh agreed.  "She'd find a way to mess
it up somehow."

He took off his uniform jacket and tie and laid them
on top of his 
coat.  
"So all these kids live here?"

"Not all of them.  A few have foster families and just
come here for 
daycare.  Right now there are fourteen in residence,
until families are 
arranged for them, too."  She watched in amusement as
Cassie reattached 
herself to his leg.  "We were just about to start some
Christmas 
carols.  
Want to help out?"

Harm wasn't particularly well-versed in Christmas
lyrics, but somehow 
it 
didn't seem to matter here.  "Why not?"

"Excellent.  Hey, everybody!  Find a spot on the rug,
okay?"

The kids raced to the center of the room, and other
staff members 
positioned 
the wheelchairs around the edge of the carpet.  Harm
sat down on the 
floor 
and impulsively pulled Cassie into his lap, much to
her delight.

Leigh started them off with "Jingle Bells" in a
strong, clear voice.  
Some 
of the children knew enough to join in, and others
bobbed their heads 
or 
sang wordlessly along with the adults.  Harm watched
their faces and 
thought 
that he'd never seen such pure innocence in his life. 
Before he knew 
it, 
they'd run through half an hour of carols, and it was
time for the kids 
to 
move into the kitchen area for their afternoon snack.

When they were settled, Leigh and Harm went back into
the main room.  
"They 
really get to you, don't they?" she commented with a
knowing look.

"They do," he agreed.  "You do, too."

She looked startled.  "Me?"

"Leigh, where's home for you?  Where's the big family
get-together?"

"Indiana, to both questions," she replied, puzzled. 
"Why?"

"Because I think you ought to be there."  He pulled
his cell phone out 
of 
his pocket and started dialing.  "What's the closest
airport to home?"

"Harm, no."  She grabbed his arm and took the phone
from him, ending 
the 
call.

"Leigh, I want to do it, and you really do deserve it.
 What you do 
here is 
amazing, and I believe that one good turn deserves
another.  Especially 
at 
this time of year."

"So get me a sweater.  Not a plane ticket."

"It's not a big deal.  I rack up a lot of frequent
flyer miles."

"It isn't the money, Harm.  I had the money.  I just
decided it would 
be 
better spent here.  Come on."  She led him down the
hall and opened a 
door, 
revealing a small room full of beautifully wrapped
presents.  "Tomorrow 
morning, all those kids are going to have presents to
open.  They're 
going 
to have stockings with their names on them.  And I'm
going to be here 
to see 
their faces.  I'll probably use up about a million
rolls of film in the 
process, but God, it's going to be worth it.  I swear,
I haven't been 
this 
excited about Christmas since I believed in Santa
Claus."

He could only shake his head, awed.  "You did all
this?"

"It wasn't just me.  The staff bought some, too, and
the Lions Club 
donated 
a lot.  But the stockings, and all those boxes in red,
those are mine.  
I'm 
proud to say it.  This was an easy choice, really.  My
family will get 
their 
gifts in the mail, and I'll see them at the end of the
school year.  
Besides, it's Nick I really wish I could see, and you
know how it is in 
the 
military.  Little sisters, no matter how much they
adore their 
brothers, 
don't get a say in duty assignments."

"True enough."  Harm held out his hand, and she gave
him back his 
phone.  
"All right, so the last-minute trip to Indiana is out.
 As an 
alternative, 
would you like to come to a holiday party with me
tonight?  The JAG 
crew 
always gets together at someone's house before heading
out to Christmas 
Eve 
services."

"Wouldn't I be intruding on your friends' party?"

"Are you kidding?  Last year I ended up bringing along
a petty officer 
accused of petty theft, all because the brig was
closed."

"Well ... I'll need to go home and change first."

"That can be arranged."

He went home to change as well, and at 1700, he picked
her up and took 
her 
back to her campus apartment.  While she was inside,
he took out his 
cell 
phone again.  After letting Harriet know that they'd
have another guest 
at 
the party, he dialed another number, one he hadn't
used in a while.  
Maybe 
he couldn't get her home for Christmas, but there were
other miracles 
that 
could be arranged.

"Is Commander Skiles available?  Thank you ... Blue,
what the hell are 
you 
doing on duty tonight?  Yeah, me too.  Listen, I have
a huge favor to 
ask.  
Who do you know down there that can cut travel orders
rapidly?  Like, 
say, 
tonight?  Don't worry about authorization - I can
handle that part.  
What I 
need is a one-day TDY for a Petty Officer Nicholas
Winslow."

He'd already stowed the phone by the time she
reappeared, wearing a 
forest-green dress with gold accents.  "Acceptable?"

"You look lovely," he assured her.  "That was pretty
fast - you know, 
all 
things considered."

After he'd said it, he immediately regretted it.  But
she didn't take 
offense.  "Like I said before, I can feel my legs. 
Enough to almost 
stand 
up, actually.  But it's hard to keep my balance, so I
do everything in 
stages.  You get used to it after a while."

Not knowing how to respond to that, he simply helped
her into the car, 
and 
they rode in near-silence to the Roberts' house.

Harriet greeted them at the door with a wide,
welcoming smile.  "Merry 
Christmas, sir!  And you must be Leigh.  I'm Harriet."

"Thank you for having me," Leigh said sincerely,
shaking her hand.

"It's our pleasure.  I'm getting used to the commander
bringing dates 
that 
aren't dates."

"Behave yourself, Lieutenant," Harm warned
good-naturedly as he helped 
Leigh 
ease her wheelchair over the threshold.  "So who's
here for the 
inaugural 
Christmas party in the new house?"

"Ah, it looks like you're the ranking officer tonight.
 The admiral 
left 
this morning for Italy, as I'm sure you know, and
Commander Turner is 
helping his father get ready for the service."

"Sturgis's father is a chaplain," he explained to
Leigh.  "All right, 
Harriet, where's that godson of mine?"

As if on cue, A.J. Roberts made his way through the
jungle of legs 
crowding 
the room and beamed up at Harm.  "Hiya!"

"Hiya, yourself, kiddo.  This is my friend, Leigh. 
Leigh, this is 
A.J."

A.J. gazed at the girl in the strange chair for a
moment with a 
quizzical 
expression.  Just as Leigh opened her mouth to try to
explain, he said, 
"Are 
you like Daddy?"

She looked to Harm and Harriet in confusion.  "Sort
of, sweetie," 
Harriet 
told him as she took their coats.  "Help yourselves to
everything, you 
two.  
There's punch in the kitchen."

A.J. followed his mom through the living room, and
Leigh frowned up at 
Harm. 
  "A.J.'s dad is in a wheelchair?"

"Not anymore.  He was injured in Afghanistan this past
summer and lost 
part 
of his leg.  He's walking now, with a prosthesis, but
I'm sure A.J. 
remembers the wheelchair from Bud's stay in the
hospital."  Harm 
glanced 
over at the doorway to the kitchen.  "Speaking of
which, here he comes.  
Bud 
Roberts, Leigh Winslow."

Bud transferred his cane to his left hand so that he
could reach out 
his 
right to shake hers.  "At last," he greeted with a
self-deprecating 
smile.  
"Someone who appreciates my hatred of stairs."

Harm blinked, but Leigh immediately started laughing. 
"Most 
definitely," 
she agreed.  "It's nice to meet you."

They chatted amiably with Harm's colleagues for a
while.  While he was 
engrossed in a work-related conversation with another
officer, though, 
she 
looked down to find A.J. standing next to her, a book
in his hand.  
"You 
read my mind, honey," she told him.  Quietly they went
into the other 
room, 
and she carefully eased herself onto the couch to read
the little boy 
The 
Night Before Christmas.

He was asleep before Santa could even call his
reindeer, curled up 
against 
the couch cushion in his flannel pajamas.  As she
pondered whether to 
leave 
him there or go find his parents, Bud stepped into the
room and 
surveyed the 
scene.

"I think you've made a new friend," he remarked,
moving across the room 
with 
only a slight limp and taking a seat across from her. 
"Thank you for 
paying 
attention to him."

"It was no trouble."  She studied her wheelchair,
wondering if she 
should 
have stayed in it.  "Your friends are all so ...
accepting."

"They are," he replied.  "I was afraid they might not
be, right after I 
got 
hurt.  But I underestimated them.  I think maybe I
underestimated 
people in 
general.  It's not so bad most of the time, being a
little different."

"Most of the time, sure.  But there's always one
person giving you that 
look, the one that says, 'Oh, you poor dear.  You must
need so much 
help.'  
Or there's the one that says, 'You can't possibly do
this or that 
because 
you can't walk.'  You can ignore them, but they're
always there."

Bud saw her eyes glisten with a kind of pain that
she'd obviously been 
trying to keep hidden, a kind of pain he recognized. 
"Are they?" he 
asked 
honestly.  "Are those people here tonight?  If so, I
don't see them."

Leigh stared at him and thought hard about the
question.  Of the people 
she'd met tonight, had any of them really looked at
her with pity?  
"Maybe 
not," she admitted in a low voice, managing a small
smile.  "I know 
Harm 
doesn't.  I mean, he doesn't always know what to do
for me and what to 
let 
me do myself, but at least he doesn't assume anything.
 He lets me make 
the 
decisions, and I appreciate that."

"He's a good man.  You can't do much better in the
friendship 
department."

She leaned forward and peeked around the doorway,
finding Harm deep in 
conversation with a young man - Bud's brother, she
recalled.  "I think 
he 
really misses Mac," she hypothesized, and Bud's
eyebrows shot up.

"Does he talk about her to you?"

"A little.  He said they usually spend Christmas
together, but she's 
away 
with her little sister this year.  I don't know, it
just sounded like 
they're really close.  Am I way off?"

"No, I wouldn't say that."  Bud leaned over to grab a
photo album off 
the 
shelf.  Finding the correct page, he handed the album
over to her.  "In 
case 
you were wondering, that's Colonel Mackenzie."

The picture was one of Harm and Mac at A.J.'s
christening.  Leigh 
looked at 
it for a long time, trying to decipher the meaning in
the gaze shared 
by the 
handsome officer in dress whites and the graceful,
striking woman with 
the 
dark hair.  "I see," she said finally.

"You do?  Then explain it to me, because I still
haven't figured it 
out."

She frowned.  "You mean they're not - ?"

"Not as far as anyone can tell.  Commander Turner's
the only one who 
seems 
to have a clue, and he's not talking either."  Bud
shrugged.  "All I 
know is 
that they depend on each other."

She paged through the album for another minute,
admiring the extended 
family.  Then she looked at him with a twinkle of an
idea in her eye.  
"Do 
you happen to have her sister's phone number?"

"Chloe?  Sure, we've probably got it in the book by
now."  Starting to 
see 
the wheels turning in her head, he got up to retrieve
the address book 
on 
the desk.  "We've got the colonel's cell phone number,
too, if you 
want."

"No, I think I want to talk to Chloe.  How old is
she?"

"Fourteen or so, but she acts like she's twenty."

"That'll do.  It's not a long-distance call, is it?"

Bud handed her the cordless phone and smiled.  "Don't
worry about it.  
Tell 
them Merry Christmas for me."

When Harm came looking for her, fifteen minutes later,
she was just 
hanging 
up the phone.  "Who was that?" he questioned.

"I was just checking my final grades on the automated
line," she fibbed 
smoothly.

If he thought the timing was strange, he didn't say
so.  "They must've 
been 
good.  You're practically glowing."

"Am I?" she asked innocently.

He shook his head, mystified.  "Come on.  Time for
church."

When the service concluded, he took her home before
making his visit to 
the 
Wall.  She made him promise to come to Horizon in the
morning, and he 
tried 
to keep a straight face while acquiescing.  He'd be
there, all right.  
Then 
he made the trip he'd made every December
twenty-fourth since moving to 
Washington, the trip he'd made nearly every year since
the memorial's 
creation twenty years ago.

"It's just me this year, Dad," he began quietly,
setting his small 
candle 
down in front of the stark black panel.  "Sergei won't
be magically 
appearing like last year, and Mac won't be chasing
after me like the 
year 
before.  I'm a little ashamed to admit it, but I miss
my partner more 
than 
my brother, and she's only been gone for a day.  Maybe
I'm feeling sort 
of 
guilty about Sergei because I see how much Leigh
misses _her_ brother.  
I 
don't know.  But at least I'm doing something about
that.  Actually, 
the 
fact that I'm doing anything at all is pretty much a
shock to me.  I 
haven't 
been sitting around feeling sorry for myself like I
usually do, and 
it's 
completely because of this one incredible person.  I
can't believe I 
just 
met her yesterday.  She can't walk, and it's almost
like it doesn't 
even 
matter.  I mean, I know it matters - I know things are
hard for her, 
but the 
way she just keeps smiling through it all ... how
could I feel sorry 
for 
myself if she can be like that?"

He jammed his hands into his coat pockets, but the
cold wasn't really 
bothering him.  "I think I needed a wake-up call, and
somehow, she was 
it.  
A few things are starting to make a little more sense
now.  There's 
really 
nothing holding me back from being happy except
myself, right?  I just 
wish 
I didn't have to wait until New Year's to see Mac,
because if she were 
here 
right now, I'd - well, I'm not sure what I'd do, but
it would be 
decisive 
and totally different from all those other screw-ups
of mine.  I'd do 
something about this holding pattern I put us in.  I'm
still going to 
do 
something about it, no matter when or how.  That's a
promise this 
time."

He reached out to trace his father's name, feeling
stronger than he had 
in 
months.  "I still miss you.  That's never going to
change.  But I'm all 
right.  Right now, I really am.

"Merry Christmas, Dad."

As he backed away, a slight sound startled him; and
for a brief, 
blissful 
moment, he held the hope that perhaps God had been
listening and that 
Mac 
had come back to be with him.  When he turned, though,
he saw only an 
older 
man shuffling along the snowy sidewalk.  Mentally
chiding himself for 
the 
fanciful, romantic thought, he started back to his
car.  He had a 
schedule 
to keep in the morning, and a Christmas surprise to
complete.


** End Part 2/3 **

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


Christmas Day
0949 EST
Andrews Air Force Base, Maryland

	Petty Officer Second Class Nicholas Winslow hurried
into the terminal, 
shaking off the chill he'd acquired on the
hundred-yard walk across the 
tarmac.  A man in jeans and a Navy flight jacket
started to approach 
him, 
and he instinctively straightened.  "Commander Rabb,
sir?"

	"Merry Christmas, Petty Officer."  They shook hands,
and Nick stood 
hesitantly until the commander quirked an eyebrow. 
"You have no idea 
what 
you're doing here, do you?"

	"Not really, sir.  All the duty officer told me was
that I was to meet 
you 
here for a TDY assignment.  Thing is, sir, I work on
air-to-ground 
communications links, and you're right up the road
from the Naval Air 
Warfare Center, so I don't know why you'd need
somebody like me, on a 
day 
like this ..."

	"I'll explain on the way."  Harm headed for the
parking lot, and the 
young 
petty officer obediently followed.  "I trust I'm not
making you miss 
out on 
any major Christmas plans?"

	"No, sir - I was just going to hang with a buddy of
mine at our host 
family's place.  They find host families for us single
guys for the 
holidays, you know.  Probably so we won't complain
about getting a 
lousy 
Christmas dinner from the mess."  Nick tossed his
duffel into the 
backseat 
and took off his cover.  "Tell you the truth, sir,
this is a great 
trade.  
My sister's in school up here, so maybe I can take a
few minutes and 
track 
her down - I mean, if I have time."

	"I'll go you one better.  I'll take you to her right
now."

	Nick's head swung around just as Harm put the Lexus
into gear, and he 
noticed the faintly smug look in the other man's eyes.
 "Commander, 
respectfully, what exactly is my job here today?"

	"Your job, Petty Officer, is to spend Christmas with
a wonderful young 
woman who misses you like crazy.  One of the perks to
being the acting 
Judge 
Advocate General is the ability to authorize travel
orders for just 
about 
anything, especially when there's already a scheduled
MIL-AIR flight 
and you 
don't need lodging money."

	Nick just watched the trees pass by for a minute,
trying to grasp the 
situation.  "You worked this out just for Leigh and
me?"

	"Your sister is a special person.  Since she worships
you, I can infer 
that 
you're a decent guy, too. All I'm doing is a little
something for 
somebody 
who earned it."

	They pulled up to Horizon House in just under twenty
minutes.  The 
door was 
unlocked, and inside, a wild party seemed to have
taken over the living 
room.  Discarded wrapping paper, ribbons, and boxes
littered the floor.  
The 
children were all focused on whatever toy or game had
been under the 
tree 
for them, and all of them looked to be nothing less
than ecstatic.  
Most of 
the staff was standing off to the side, watching with
satisfaction, but 
Leigh was in the middle of it all, cheerfully playing
Chutes and 
Ladders 
with two of the kids and ducking the occasional foam
football that 
sailed 
past.  The mischief in the air was contagious, and
Harm signaled for 
Nick to 
wait by the door while he approached.

	"Quite the celebration you have going on here," he
called over the 
noise.  
Leigh looked up at him and beamed.

	"Isn't it great?  I've never seen so much
concentrated happiness in my 
life!"

	"Well, how about cranking it up a little further?" 
Taking hold of the 
arms 
of her wheelchair, he turned it so that she could see
the uniformed 
young 
man waiting in the doorway.

	Her mouth opened, but no words came out.  Huge tears
welled up in her 
eyes: 
this was perfect.  Better than perfect - this was the
one thing she 
hadn't 
dared to hope for.  As the kids played around her,
oblivious, she 
wheeled 
toward her brother, threw on the brake, and launched
herself out of the 
chair at him.

	Nick caught her easily and tightened his arms around
her.  "Easy, 
Scoot," 
he said quietly as she sniffled against his shoulder. 
"You're getting 
soggy."

	"Shut up," she mumbled tearfully, suddenly seeming
much younger.  
"God, 
Nick, what are you _doing_ here?"

	"Ask the commander.  He made it happen."

	She turned a wide-eyed, watery stare on Harm.  "You
didn't."

	"I didn't do a single thing that would impact anyone
else.  The flight 
would've happened whether he'd been on it or not."  He
smiled.  "The 
way I 
see it, just because a selfless person can find
happiness in the joy of 
others, it doesn't mean that they shouldn't get a
little joy of their 
own."

	The tears spilled over, and she clung even more
tightly to her brother 
as 
he lowered her back into the chair.  "Harm, I - wow,
you've completely 
thrown me off.  I can't even put together a sentence
here, but thank 
you.  
Thank you so much ..."

	"Leigh, I can tell you honestly that it was my
pleasure.  Just 
remember, 
Petty Officer, that your flight back to Pensacola
leaves at 0840 
tomorrow.  
Otherwise your commanding officer is going to keelhaul
us both."

	"Aye, sir."  Nick grinned at his sister.  "So, did
you bring the sled 
with 
you from home?  There's got to be a park around here
somewhere."

	Harm left them together and headed home, feeling
somehow lighter in 
his 
step.  That had felt good.  Really good.  So what if
he still had most 
of 
the day to waste?  Last night, he'd gotten out the box
that contained 
the 
few Christmas decorations he had, and a strange part
of him was 
considering 
putting them up this afternoon.  Just for fun, and for
something to do.  
At 
the very least, he now owned a TV, so he could
probably find a football 
game 
to watch.

	When he put his key in the lock, the doorknob turned
easily, taking 
him by 
surprise.  Never in eight years had he forgotten to
lock his apartment.  
And 
there were only two people in the world who had a
spare key: Sergei and 
-

	Mac turned around at the sound of the door, looking
faintly guilty.  
Her 
coat and suitcase were sitting by the couch, and a
string of lights was 
in 
her hand.  "I figured, wherever you were, you'd have
to come home 
sooner or 
later," she explained simply.

	Harm stared at her for a minute, trying to convince
himself that she 
was 
indeed real and not a figment of his imagination.  At
his reaction, her 
smile faltered slightly.  "You don't mind that I came
in, right?  Harm?  
Is 
everything okay?"

	"Yeah," he answered, finally coming back to himself. 
"It's just ... I 
think my dad actually heard me."

	"What?"

	In lieu of a response, he strode across the room and
enfolded her in a 
crushing embrace.  Mac was a little taken aback, and
although it was a 
pleasant kind of surprise, she could hardly let it
pass without 
comment.  
"Sailor, I've only been gone for two days."

	"Sure, but they were two really world-altering days."
 That only 
confused 
her further, but he released her and took the lights
out of her hand, 
reaching up to string them over the windows.  "I have
no idea what 
you're 
doing here, but I'm really glad that you came."

	"It was Chloe's idea, actually.  She's got her dad
with her this year, 
and 
last night she suggested that I could come back
mid-day today and have 
Christmas with both her and you."  Something about his
bearing made her 
feel 
safe enough to go a step further.  "I think maybe she
could sense how 
much I 
missed you.  Um, anyway, traveling on Christmas Day is
really a 
breeze."

	He turned around, wearing an expression of hope that
made her melt.  
"You 
missed me?"

	She glanced down, almost shyly.  "And you missed me,
huh?"

	"Great minds think alike."  Abandoning the lights, he
took a step 
toward 
her, but halted as a sneaking suspicion entered his
mind.  "Wait a 
minute.  
About what time last night was it that you and Chloe
discussed this?"

	"1930.  Just before church.  She'd been on the phone
with a friend or 
something, and ..."

	"I'll be damned."  Without elaborating, he went over
to the phone and 
dialed.  Not surprisingly, the answering machine
picked up.  "Leigh, 
it's 
Harm.  I cannot believe that you called Chloe, and I
don't know how in 
God's 
name you figured it out ... but thank you.  You don't
know how 
important 
this is to me.  Whenever Horizon needs some repair
work or anything 
like 
that, I'm your guy, and when spring comes around, I'm
taking you for an 
airplane ride.  Well, anyway, hope you're out having
fun.  Merry 
Christmas."

	He hung up and went back to Mac, who had her arms
folded and her eyes 
narrowed.  "You need to explain a few things, flyboy. 
Who is Leigh, 
and how 
exactly does he or she fit into this?"

	"In the context of the season, I'd have to classify
her as an angel."  
Harm 
smiled, with more openness and contentment than she'd
ever seen in him.  
"We 
met Monday evening at the Wall.  This morning I gave
her a gift, and 
now 
it's apparent that she had one for me as well."

	"She gave you me?"

	"Even angels don't quite have that much pull, Mac. 
Nobody can give 
you 
away except you.  And that's part of the point, I
think.  What she gave 
me 
was a better perspective on things - that, and a
perfect chance to do 
something that I've wanted to do for a long time."

	As he drew closer, her breath caught in her throat. 
"What's that?" 
she 
whispered.

	"To let go and finally give myself away.  To you." 
Lifting her chin 
with a 
finger, he placed a tender kiss on her trembling lips.
 "Unless you'd 
rather 
have another bottle of perfume instead."

	"No, I like this better," she replied shakily, when
her voice decided 
to 
function again at last.  "Harm, not to look a gift
horse in the mouth 
or 
anything, but where did this come from?"

	"Does it matter, so long as it's real?"

	"I guess not, but ..."

	He kissed her again, ending her train of thought, and
then pulled her 
into 
his arms.  "Someday I'll be able to explain it better
than this," he 
promised, "but for now, all I can say is that I'm
ready to make my life 
really work.  And I know for a certainty that I need
you for that.  I 
promised myself last night that I'd make things right
as soon as I saw 
you 
again, and here you are - so what do you say?"

	This time, she was the one to initiate the kiss.  "I
say that either 
your 
friend Leigh really is an angel or there's another one
up there 
somewhere 
for us," she said softly.  "I've been waiting for some
kind of 
opportunity 
to try and break this long-standing stalemate of ours,
I think, but I 
didn't 
know what that opportunity was supposed to look like. 
And here it just 
fell 
into my lap ... It's safe to say that I'm a little
overwhelmed.  But 
happy."

	"Good.  Everybody should be happy on Christmas."

	She stared at him, searching his features for some
sign that he 
recognized 
the incongruity of that statement coming from him. 
But there was no 
veiled 
pain to be found there anymore.  A bright-faced young
woman and a house 
full 
of children had wiped it all away, leaving only the
strong, determined 
side 
of him that she admired so much ... the part of him
that she'd always 
loved 
the most.  So she kissed him yet again, reveling in
the sensation.

	"Want to finish decorating?" she asked.

	"Sure.  Then we can try making cookies again.  I
think I figured out 
what 
we did wrong last year."

	"What we did wrong last year was trying to make
gingerbread from 
scratch, 
instead of going to the store for a packaged mix."

	"Oh, where's your sense of adventure?"

	As the snow settled over the District of Columbia,
two friends spent 
the 
day discovering each other anew, while a young man
pulled his sister 
all 
over Rock Creek Park on a well-used sled.  All four
would later confess 
that 
they'd never had a better Christmas in all their
lives.  And that, of 
course, had been the angel's plan all along.


*** The End - Happy holidays to all.  ***