SIDEWAYS ADDRESS

By H. Lee, hlear8@yahoo.com

Spoilers, of course, for “Yeah, Baby.”

Rated G

Disclaimers: the usual

Summary: Just a short little fluffy piece addressing
The Deal in a somewhat sideways fashion. No plot, no
action, no excuses. 



She answered the door with tear tracks on her face.
Because she was still brushing them away, he felt it
safe to comment. 



“Mac? What’s the matter?” 



“Nothing.” She rolled her eyes and smiled in
half-hearted exasperation. “I’m just . . . ugh . . .
emotional today.” 



Harm smiled with all the male sympathy he possessed.
It was the second week of the month – he had come
prepared with chocolate as well as case files. 



“What are you watching?” he asked, nodding at the TV
as he dropped his briefcase on the coffee table. 



“Some medical special on premature babies.” A sound
between a sigh and a snort escaped her throat as she
dropped beside him on the couch. “I have no idea why,
I just got sucked in.” 



They lapsed into silence as the narrator introduced a
tiny little girl, born three months early, wrapped in
tubes and tape and a little pink cap inside her
incubator. Harm watched, awed, as two more tears slid
from his partner’s anguished eyes down her cheeks. 



“Hey,” he whispered, softly dashing one away with his
thumb. 



With a helpless, watery laugh, she lowered her head
and sniffled. “Just think about all the confusion and
pain they have to handle, before they’re even ready to
live.” Then the source of her worry rushed out on a
sigh. “What if that happens to our ki – to *my* kids?”




Turning to look at him, she prayed he hadn’t noticed
the slip. 



He was ready to kiss her for it, but knew the time was
for comfort, not passion. Instead, he reached an arm
around her shoulders and pulled her head to his chest.
“Then we’ll deal with it,” he answered calmly,
pressing his lips to her hair. “We’ll love him, and
we’ll make it work. I promise.” 



“Thanks, Harm.” Unsure whether to laugh or cry, she
burrowed closer and wrapped her arm around his waist. 



For a while, he simply held her and looked at pictures
of the hand-sized baby from the incubator, turned into
a healthy, bespectacled one-year-old. When Mac brushed
her cheek against his shoulder one last time and drew
away, he had to fight the impulse to hold her in
place. Glancing shyly up at him, she shifted back to
her side of the couch and scrubbed at her eyes. 



“Besides,” he added, trying to inject some levity into
the somber situation. “Maybe no one will notice
anyway.” 



At her puzzled look, he elaborated, “Do you want to
know how big I was when I was born?” 



Catching onto the game, Mac bit back a smile and shook
her head vigorously. “*No*.” 



Indifferent, he crossed his arms and grinned with
pride. “Eleven pounds, ten ounces.” 



A long blink and a dropped jaw were her only response.




“Twenty-three and a half inches,” he continued,
ignoring her groan of disbelief. “I set a record at
the base hospital. I think it still stands.” 



“Stop, please,” she giggled adorably. 



“They induced labor a week early because they were
afraid I’d gain more weight.” Holding back amusement
as his partner’s _expression became more and more
incredulous, he added smugly, “My dad had to buy a new
car after seven months when my mom got too big for the
old one.” 



“Oh, my God, Harm.” She was gaping in open fascination
and dread. “That’s unbelievable.” 



“Do you want to call her and ask?” he offered
helpfully. 



She only rolled her eyes and swatted him away. “What
did I get myself into with that deal of ours anyway?” 



‘My heart,’ Harm thought reverently. ‘My life. My
bed.’ 



“You backing out, Marine?” he asked, hoping the humor
in his voice masked the despair that idea brought him.




The steady, mildly scolding look in her eye set him
straight; his Marine never backed down from anything.
“How much time do I have again?” she mused, turning
teasingly indecisive. 



He wasn’t fooled for a minute. “About two years.”
Reaching over to rub her flat belly, he secretly
marveled at the fact that his children were
essentially there inside, waiting for him to step up
to the plate. “Maybe you’d better start doing some
stretching exercises or something.” 



He chuckled, lingered a bit as she closed her eyes and
enjoyed. Ooh, God, did she have some good ideas for
that stretching. Definitely inappropriate for a
Wednesday night work session with the man who was more
than a friend and less than a lover, but excellent
plans nonetheless.  



Under his wide palm, her womb warmed and liquefied as
if flowing to meet its mate. The slight cramps that
had been bothering her earlier in the day blissfully
evaporated. Objectively, she knew, it was ridiculous
to discuss child-bearing with someone who hadn’t even
kissed her since the chaste peck under the Robertses’
mistletoe. But, given that their relationship was one
of the most bizarre in modern history, this was
practically a run-of-the-mill conversation for them. 



“Do you want something to eat or drink before we get
started?” she asked when he removed his hand and
straightened reluctantly. 



“No, thanks. I brought you a Milky Way.” 



She cut a quick glance at his gently amused
_expression and wasn’t sure whether to be angry or
embarrassed that he’d anticipated her PMS. Deciding
neither reaction was her fastest ticket to a chocolate
fix, she opted for peace. “My hero,” she gushed with
only a trace of sarcasm. “Where is it?” 



Harm nodded to his briefcase and settled back against
the cushions for another long, quietly happy meeting
with his partner. “Grab the Murphy file while you’re
in there, will you?”