Joyful And Triumphant

March 3, 2003

Disclaimer: They belong to DPB.

Spoilers: Anything through All Ye Faithful

Author Notes: Feedback to manetjt@aol.com.

I stand outside on the porch for a few minutes just listening to the sound of everyone gathered inside. Their muffled voices and laughter fill me with contentment.

Now I'm home.

This is not my house, or my porch, or my front door, but when I turn the knob I know without question what I will find.

My family.

I have already been to the wall this evening. In fact, I went as soon as I landed. And it was nice to have Admiral Boone with me though I almost felt like an intruder. Tom Boone was remembering and mourning the real man, while I have always mourned the man my father might have been if he had lived. I have spent a lifetime honoring him, but that doesn't mean I really knew the man. And for more years than I can count I have spent the dying moments of Christmas Eve at the wall with my father.

This year is going to be different.

I push open the front door, and Bud calls out a welcome. Everyone is sitting around the table ready to eat, and I am met with a tide of warm greetings--they are genuinely glad to see me.

I take off my overcoat and apologize for being late, and before I can take more than two steps into the room, I am searching for Mac. She is at the end of the table, smiling at me, relief evident in her eyes. I smile back and move to sit in the empty chair across from her. Of course, she notices my missing wings, and I wave her off promising to explain later.

Bud finishes his toast, and I touch my glass to Mac's.

"Merry Christmas," she says quietly.

There is no reasonable explanation for the pleasure that spreads through my chest at her simple words, but lately everything she does seems to have a profound effect on me.

Maybe another night I could pretend that the deep happiness I feel is just the relief of making it home when it looked like I was going to be stuck on the carrier--the natural joy that comes from sharing food and stories with my friends and colleagues. But tonight my defenses are down and I have to admit that this euphoria is completely tied up with the woman sitting across the table from me--and I can't think of a single reason to deny it.

The conversation swirls around me as everyone talks at once, filling me in on all the news of the day. I do my best to keep up and make appropriate responses.

Bud and Harriet are expecting again.

"That's great, Harriet," I say as I squeeze her hand.

The Admiral delivered another baby in his office today.

"Sir, I think you've discovered your true calling," I respond sincerely.

Coates has been reassigned to our office. I notice that Tiner looks pleased.

Sturgis asks me a question about my flight home, and I start to answer, but my eyes collide with Mac's, and his question is immediately forgotten. Mindless of those around me, I allow myself to stare, to drown in her gaze. We are having a conversation with our eyes in some language that we have not yet tried to translate. Maybe soon we will graduate to the spoken word but for now these silent exchanges feel safer. When it comes to the two of us the English language has not always proven reliable.

Luckily, Sturgis is distracted when someone else asks him a question, and I am free to play eye tag with Mac for a little longer, but she looks away to comment on something the man next to her has said. For the first time I notice the man sitting beside her. Who the hell is he? Surely she didn't bring a date. He doesn't really look like her type, but I have been mistaken about her type before. And now she is laughing uproariously at some remark he made that wasn't the least bit funny. He is preening from her attention, and all I want to do his wipe that silly smile off his face with my fists. So much for Peace on Earth.

A little too loudly I say sneeringly, "I don't believe I have been introduced to your friend, Mac."

I realize all conversation at the table has stopped, and everyone is staring at me. Unfazed, I glare at the little twit, and he squirms uncomfortably in his chair.

Harriet breaks the silence with a hasty introduction. "Excuse me, Harm. I would like you to meet Warrant Officer Scoggins. He was kind enough to provide the food for tonight's party so we invited him to join us." Harriet may be a junior officer but it is clear to everyone that I have been taken to task by a master. Her scolding tone changes as she smiles sweetly at her poor mistreated guest. "Warrant Officer Scoggins this is Commander Harmon Rabb."

I glance sheepishly at Harriet then stand quickly and lean across the table with my hand extended. "Nice to meet you, Warrant Officer Scoggins. Great food, by the way!" I swear he flinches when I extend my hand, but once he realizes I'm not going to punch him he shakes my hand, laughs nervously, then wisely scoots his chair a few inches away from Mac's.

A collective sigh of relief fills the room, and everyone pretends my rude behavior never happened. That's what's so nice about being surrounded by people that know and accept you. All is quickly forgiven. Well almost. Meredith and the Admiral are exchanging knowing glances. Sturgis is coughing to hide the fact that he is trying not to laugh. And Mac is glaring daggers at me when she can bother to look at me at all.

Desperately, I try the 'poor, pitiful, puppy dog' look but Mac is unrelenting.

I am saved from further humiliation when Meredith jumps up and declares that it is time for dessert. "I brought a homemade pecan pie!" she announces with a flourish before disappearing into the kitchen.

A stricken gasp escapes the Admiral, but he recovers nicely and suggests in a stage whisper, "Don't panic. Take small bites and chew thoroughly."

Meredith returns and passes out pieces of pie to every one. I take a bite, and it tastes like straw, but I'm not sure if it's bad pie or just my mood. Feeling miserable, I eat it anyway. Maybe I'll choke on a pecan shell, and then Mac will be sorry. I cram another forkful into my mouth and chew ferociously.

I risk a glance at Mac and notice that she is watching me thoughtfully. A smile plays on her lips and hope blossoms in my heart. I knew she couldn't stay mad at me for long. I am rewarded with a full-blown grin, and then she turns to Meredith and says, "I think Harm needs more pie. He's practically licked his plate clean. Didn't they feed you on that carrier?"

"Oh Harm, I am so glad you liked it." Meredith seems so pleased.

"It w-was great, but I couldn't eat another bite--really." It's my turn to glare at Mac.

"Nonsense! A growing boy like you! I'll be right back with seconds." Meredith disappears into the kitchen despite my protests of being too full.

I look at the Admiral, but he won't meet my eye. I glance around and notice that everyone is still struggling with their first piece--kind of moving it around their plates in the vain hope that it will disappear, while my plates sits empty just begging to be refilled.

Mac giggles, and I, being a mature adult do what any mature adult would do. I try to kick her under the table. That only makes her laugh harder, and I know we are okay again.

Not even a double dose of Meredith's pie can ruin my mood now as we all pitch in for clean up duty. Sturgis and Big Bud start folding up tables and carting them out to the garage. I take off my uniform jacket and roll up my sleeves and start stacking plates and carrying them to the kitchen.

Tiner and Coates, under Harriet's supervision, are putting up leftovers. Mac is at the sink, a dishtowel tied at her waist with her arms up to her elbows in hot soapy water. She looks beautiful, and I stop right in the big middle of everything just to watch her. The Admiral who is drying notices me staring and somewhat impatiently takes the dishes away from me and pushes me out of the kitchen to get more. I plow into Scoggins who is coming in the door, and he nearly drops the dishes he is carrying when he sees me. I smile to show him there are no hard feelings, but he doesn't seem to want to be friends. He sidles around me and hurries over to Mac with the dishes and sets them on the counter.

I go back out to the dining room and snag the last couple of glasses from the table, and then I wander back into the kitchen. "Here are the last of the glasses, Mac."

She smiles and turns to take them from me with her soapy hands, and something in me snaps. I reach past her and drop the glasses in the sink, and then as I grab her by a slippery wrist I tell the Admiral, "I need to borrow Mac for a few minutes, Sir."

"Now?" he demands with a scowl.

"Yes Sir. It can't wait another minute."

He weighs the determination on my face and then finally relents. "Very well. Carry on."

I pull a sputtering Mac out of the kitchen and into the dining room where Meredith is gathering up tablecloths and napkins.

"Harm, what are you doing?" Mac asks as she trots behind me.

I don't answer as I look around the room before moving on to the next one.

I pass Bud on my way to the living room, and he asks Mac what's going on, but she just shrugs as I pull her along behind me.

I make a quick survey of the entry hall on my way to the den, but once there I can see it's no use. "What is wrong with these people?" My question is addressed to no one in particular.

"Harm, what are you talking about?" Mac grabs my arm and turns me to face her.

"Don't they know they are supposed to have mistletoe? If I don't find some excuse to kiss you soon I am going to die." Maybe that sounds a little melodramatic, but I don't feel like correcting myself--especially not when her eyes are all soft and dreamy and her lips are slightly parted in invitation.

I watch her for some sign that she doesn't want this, but her mouth is too tempting.

"What the hell," I mutter.

My mouth crashes down on hers, and nothing about it resembles a polite holiday smooch between coworkers. For one thing a polite holiday smooch would have ended, say twenty, maybe thirty seconds ago instead of going on and on like this one.

I drag my mouth from hers and cup her face with my hands. "I've missed you, Mac."

She runs a still wet hand across my cheek and says, "I've missed you too, Harm."

I am about to kiss her again when I hear a noise. We both look up in time to see the Admiral shooing everyone away from the doorway as he slides the pocket door closed on the den. We stand there listening to the sound of everyone gathered outside the door. Their muffled voices and laughter fill me with contentment.

I smile at the woman in my arms, and she smiles at me.

Now I'm home.

The End