Disclaimer: The characters (except for the children) and the premise all belong to DPB, Paramount, CBS,
and probably some other entities I’m not aware of. In any event, I have no ownership interest in them whatsoever, and
I’m realizing no profit from this exercise in imagination.
The song lyrics are from a song called "Think of Me" written by Phil Vischer.
Author Notes: This particular bit was "inspired" by a song of the same name, The Good Stuff. It’s performed by Kenney
Chesney and can be found on his CD "No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem". It was written by Craig Wiseman and Jim Collins.
The lyrics are not contained in this fic (if you’re interested, you can find them at but the basic premise, that we
all need sometimes to be reminded just how good we have it, is.
Also, though it won’t be specifically mentioned, assume that Sturgis Turner is transferred to JAG HQ at some point
during these proceedings.
Feedback, whether it be good, bad or in between is always welcome at dcamp@wheelerlegal.com.
Casa Rabb
Harm stood looking down at his son. Three weeks ago tonight, Harmon Matthew Rabb had come into this world with a
whoosh, sliding into the waiting arms of his father. Harm had been awed by the huge miracle that was childbirth –
the incredible strain of the birthing process, which Mad had borne stoically; the incredible rush of *stuff* that
had accompanied his son’s entrance; and the tiny perfection of his son - ten perfect fingers, ten precious little
toes, two little ears no larger than half dollars, the proper male equipment all present and accounted for.
He’d also been surprised by the sudden surge of love that had filled him - love for his newborn son, for the daughter
whose birth he’d missed, and for Mac, who had given him the tremendous gift of children. Emotion had filled him until
it had no choice but to leak from his eyes. He’d wrapped his son in a warmed blue blanket and brought him to his mother,
not even attempting to hide his tears. The emotion he was feeling was reflected in Mac’s eyes, and she’d taken their
son, unwrapped him, and examined him, ensuring herself that he was fine. Harmon Matthew had wailed his displeasure at
this rude new existence until his mother had placed him at her breast, where he’d immediately quieted down and began
to suckle. *"Like father, like son,"* Harm thought to himself.
As he looked down at his son now, sleeping peacefully on his back in the crib, he felt filled with a serenity that
he’d never come close to experiencing. He could stay like this forever, just watching.
"There you are," Mac said from the doorway. "Are you coming to bed?"
Harm smiled at her. "I was just . . . looking."
Mac came to stand beside him and looked at the sleeping baby. "He’s pretty amazing, isn’t he?"
"He is," Harm agreed, sliding an arm around her waist. "And so are you. Have I thanked you today?"
"For what?"
"For him. For Sabbrina."
"I seem to recall you had something to do with both of them," she noted, wrapping her arm around his back and resting
her cheek on his chest.
Harm kissed the top of her head. "Did you ever wonder if your heart was big enough to hold all of the love you feel?"
he asked, feeling a little silly.
"Mm hmm," Mac confirmed. "When I found out I was pregnant again, I was a little worried. I love Sabbrina so much,
and I wondered if I’d be able to divide that love between two children. But when he was born, I discovered that love
doesn’t divide. It multiplies. And my heart grew a little bit to accommodate."
"I could watch him all night."
"You can watch him all you want when he wakes up screaming in a couple of hours. I’ll sleep in."
"Somehow I don’t think he’d be very happy with me. I don’t have the right equipment."
"Let’s go to bed," Mac invited.
Harm looked down at her. "Are you promising something you can’t deliver on?" he asked.
"Who me?" she asked with mock innocence.
"Six weeks!" Harm lamented. "Was it that way with Sabbrina, too, or did the doctor just want to punish me for some
reason?"
"Well, it hardly mattered after Sabbrina," Mac pointed out. "You were gone. But, yes, they told me the same thing."
Harm grunted his disapproval.
"You know," Mac continued. "They said *I* couldn’t have sex. They didn’t say anything about you."
Harm pulled away from her, looking at her in shock. "What are you suggesting?"
"Not what you’re apparently thinking!" she said, her eyes showing her amusement. "No. I was just thinking that as a
Marine, I should be able to come up with some sort of alternate plan to take care of your – um, needs."
"They teach you that kind of stuff in the Marines, huh?"
"‘Course not. But they do teach us to use our heads and to quickly devise a back-up plan if our main route is blocked.
They also teach us about hand to hand combat – when it’s appropriate, the best techniques to use. I could adapt some of
that training to remedy the situation at hand."
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Mac was proposing, and Harm felt his blood begin to pump just a little faster
through his veins. "I think someone should begin an investigation in Marine Corps training practices. It sounds to me
like they’re venturing into territory never envisioned by her founding fathers."
Mac took Harm’s hand between her own two and began to pull him gently from the room. "I think you’re just the man to
tackle that investigation," she said, daring his eyes to leave hers. "And I know right where you should start. I know
you’ll want to conduct a fair and thorough investigation," she said, pulling him into their bedroom. "One that leaves
no stone unturned and that uncovers even the barest details." They stopped at the edge of the bed, and Mac turned to
face him, pressing the length of her body against his. His arms went around her, holding her sinewy body tightly against
him, wanting her to feel how much he yearned for her.
She did, and she smiled up at him in appreciation. He bent down and captured her lips with his own, his tongue staking
out his territory once again. She kissed him back with a passion mirroring his own. When she finally pulled away, he
felt as though the sun had slipped behind a cloud, robbing the heat from the day. Until she spoke.
"Step into my office, Commander, and let me show you what the Marine Corps has taught me." She lowered herself to the
bed, patting the spot beside her invitingly.
He had no choice but to comply. She did, after all, outrank him.
Several months later . . .
Mac had been back at work for almost two months following Matt’s birth. She wondered often if she could somehow clone
herself. Life was hectic, with two children, a more than full-time job, and a husband who traveled frequently. So far,
the arrangement made to keep both of them at JAG HQ had been working, although at times it strained available manpower.
By some unspoken agreement, whenever travel was involved in an assignment requiring a higher-ranking officer, Harm got
the detail. If Mac had had the time, she would have been outraged at the slight. As it was, her day kept her busy enough
that she had all she could do to keep her head above water.
She worked at least eight hours a day at the office, picked Sabbrina and Matt up at day care, went home and made
supper, ate with the kids, bathed them, and put them to bed, then worked for a couple of hours on whatever she’d
brought home from the office. At some point during that time, Harm would roll in, play with the kids if they were
still awake, and disappear into the bedroom, which had been converted to include a study.
Mornings were chaos. Dressing two children, one of them for school, dressing herself, feeding everyone, packing them
up, getting them out the door on time, getting Bree to school and Matt to day care and herself to work was a balancing
act that was never the same twice. She and Harm couldn’t ride to the office together because they never knew who might
need to be where at what time. It seemed to Mac like she raced through her days, never taking the time to stop and enjoy
anything, her mind always on something other than what she was doing. She asked herself ten times a day how life could
get any crazier. Then she found out.
Harm sat up in bed, working. Mac came into the bedroom dressed in the flannel Mickey Mouse pajamas Sabbrina had given
her on her last birthday. She had work to do herself, but she just didn’t feel up to doing it. She was so very tired.
She’d checked her sleeping children, brushed her teeth, and was ready for bed. But there was something she needed to
do first.
She slid into bed beside Harm. He looked up from the notes he was making on a legal pad and smiled briefly before
returning his attention to the book on his lap. "Damn!" he muttered. At her questioning look, he explained, "Pen ran
out of ink."
She threw the covers back quickly. "I’ll get you another one," she offered. She found on a pen on the desk and brought
it to him.
"Thanks," he said with another quick smile.
Mac slid back into bed and pulled the covers back up. "Can we talk for a minute?" she asked.
"I’d like to finish this tonight," he said without looking at her. "Can it wait?"
"I’ve already waited. I’d like to do this now. Do you mind?"
"No. Go ahead," he invited, though he continued reading and jotting notes on his pad.
Mac waited, staring at him, wondering how much time would pass before he realized she wasn’t speaking. After forty-nine
seconds, she decided he was never going to. "Clay came by today," she said.
"Oh yeah?" Harm said vaguely.
*Well, he’s responding to the sound of my voice*, Mac thought. *But is he really listening?*
"Yeah," she said. "He said he’s always found me attractive. He invited me to run off to the Caribbean with him. He’s
promised me warm sun, sandy beaches, wild and passionate love." She stopped, looking at her husband, waiting for a
response. She got none.
"So we leave tomorrow morning," she continued. "You’ll have to pick the kids up at day care."
Still nothing. "Harm! Did you hear me? You’ll have to pick up the kids at day care tomorrow."
Finally, he looked up at her. "Why? Are you going somewhere?"
Mac sighed, only slightly frustrated, but more than a little amused. "Did you hear anything I just said?"
"Of course I did. You said I need to pick up the kids at day care tomorrow. You’d better leave Matt’s car seat."
"Do you want me to call when I get there?" she asked.
"Where?"
Now she was sure he hadn’t heard a word. "The Caribbean."
Finally, his full attention was diverted her way. "And why are you going to the Caribbean?"
"See! I knew you weren’t listening! I don’t think I want to tell you now," she said playfully.
"Mac. Why are you going to the Caribbean?" Finally, something trickled through. "You’re going with Webb?!"
Mac laughed. "You are such a doofus! Of course I’m not going with Clayton! I’m not going at all. I just wanted to make
sure I had your attention."
Harm inserted the notepad into the book, marking his place. He closed the book and dropped it carefully onto the
floor. "You do now."
"Thank you," she said. "I . . . um . . . wanted to talk to you about the kids and about . . . us."
"What about us?"
"Well, it just seems like I’m on screech all day long. I’m just thinking it might be nice if I had a little more help
around here." There. She’d said it. She’d been thinking it for a long time, but she hated asking for help for
anything.
"What do you mean? You want to hire a maid or something?"
"No," she sighed. "I don’t want to hire a maid or something. I want you to contribute just a little more around here."
She could see him getting defensive at this, which was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid.
"Mac, I don’t know what you want from me. I work twelve hours a day. I don’t have any choice about that. I don’t have
any choice about the Admiral sending me wherever he chooses. You know that."
"Of course I know that," she said reasonably. "That used to be my life, too. But I’m also working long days. Plus I’m
the sole caretaker for two kids. Or at least that’s the way it seems at times. All I’m asking is that you try to help
out a bit more when you’re here. Instead of reading the paper in the morning, maybe you could make Sabbrina’s lunch or
dress Matty."
"But mornings are the only time I have to read the paper!" he protested.
"Do you have any idea when the last time was that I read a newspaper from front to back?! Why is it your right to read
the paper and not mine? They’re your kids, too!"
"I’m well aware of that," he said stiffly. "All right. I’ll do better. Okay?"
"Mm hmm," Mac said. "Actually, that’s not the real reason I wanted to talk to you, though I guess it all ties in
together."
"What does?"
"I’m pregnant," she said simply, watching him closely for his reaction.
Surprise showed first. "Pregnant? You’re sure?"
She nodded. "I went to the doctor Monday."
"Monday?" Today was Thursday. "And you didn’t tell me sooner?"
"You haven’t been here much," she reminded him gently.
Suddenly, the reason for this discussion became very clear. She already felt over-burdened, and they were adding
another child to the mix.
"You haven’t said how you feel," she said when he didn’t speak. "Are you happy about this?"
"Of course I am, Mac," he said sincerely. "I’d like a whole passel of Rabbs. And you’re right about one thing. I need
to start doing more around here." He leaned over and kissed her tenderly. "And I’m very happy about this. When are we
due?"
"August twentieth."
"Let’s keep the sex of this one a mystery, okay?" Harm suggested. "I think it’s more fun that way. I’ll call mom
tomorrow and tell her. She’ll be thrilled." His mind was racing now. "You know, this house already feels small.
With another baby in it, we’ll be bursting at the seams. We really need to start looking for a new place."
"We’ve got plenty of time for that. So you’re really okay about this?"
"Did you doubt seriously that I would be?"
Mac shrugged. "I wasn’t sure. We’ve never really talked about or planned any of these kids."
"I’d like at least four," Harm said. "What about you?"
"Four’s a good number," she agreed, smiling. She really had been unsure how he’d react to this news.
Harm pulled her close, and they sat with his arm around her. "Thank you," he said.
"Don’t you have work to do?" she reminded him.
"You expect me to work now?" he asked.
"Well, maybe we could think of something else to keep you busy."
Several months later . . .
Mac finished her closing argument and sat down at counsel table. She rubbed her large belly, trying to quiet the
agitated child within. She turned her attention to her opposing counsel, a bright young lieutenant only recently
transferred to HQ. He was good, Mac thought as she watched him regale the members with all sorts of reasons why his
client couldn’t have done what he’d been accused of. He had many victories in his future, she was sure, but this
case wouldn’t be one of them. It had been a complex case to give one so young, but the Admiral’s options had been
limited. The lieutenant had performed admirably, and Mac intended to tell him so – right after he congratulated her
on her victory. She pressed the palm of her hand against the hard protrusion in her abdomen (a heel, she thought)
and waited for the moment when she would have to heave herself to her feet to set the members straight in her
rebuttal.
As she got awkwardly up from her chair, Mac felt a searing pain rip through her gut. No one watching her could tell,
though, and she delivered her brief rebuttal seamlessly and flawlessly. She sat again until the judge dismissed them
to wait for the verdict.
Mac waddled to her office. She didn’t want to sit down again because it was too much trouble to get back up again.
"Harriet!" she called to the passing lieutenant.
"Yes, ma’am?"
"Have you seen Harm?"
"I believe he was headed to the library earlier, ma’am. Would you like me to find him?"
"No, thanks. I’ll get him myself."
Mac found Harm in the library where, judging by the books piled around him, he’d been for some time. "Hey!" he said,
his face lighting up with pleasure at the sight of her. "How did it go?"
"The members are out," she said, unwilling to jinx herself by predicting the outcome. "What do you have going on this
afternoon?"
"Not much. I have some research for a brief that’s due next week. Why? What’s up?"
"I just wondered if you wanted to go with me to the hospital. I thought I might have this baby today."
"Baby?! Today?! Mac, you’re not due for another two weeks!" Harm said, his eyes wide, his knuckles white as he clutched
the book in his hands.
"I know that, and you know, that but I don’t think she knows that," Mac whispered conspiratorially, rubbing her stomach.
Despite her use of the term "she", they did not know the sex of the baby who was apparently about to make its entrance.
As she had told more than one person, "she" is better than "it".
"Well, okay. Let’s go, then."
"Hold on. I’ve got to find someone to sit on the verdict for me. I’ve got to talk to Harriet about picking up the kids.
I’ve got to call the day care center and let them know. Why don’t you call your mother? She wasn’t coming until next week.
Maybe she can come now." She grimaced as another contraction struck.
Harm noticed. "How far apart are they?"
"Four minutes, sixteen seconds. We’ve got time."
"Let’s hope you’re right. One baby born at JAG is enough for anyone’s lifetime."
"One more push, Sarah," the doctor encouraged. "We’ve almost got him."
Mac felt the contraction building, and with Harm’s help, she was able to summon the strength for one last push. As
promised, the baby was delivered into the doctor’s arms.
"It’s a girl!" the doctor told them. The baby was handed to a nurse, and the doctor turned back to Mac to attend to
the details of delivering the after-birth. Once that was completed, Mac and Harm’s second daughter, newly cleaned and
wrapped in a blanket, was brought to them, squalling loudly. As soon as the child was placed in her mother’s arms, she
ceased crying and looked up at her mother. Mac looked down at her and fell in love with the blue-eyed creature looking
at her with such utter and complete trust. She felt an invisible cord stretching from her heart to the baby’s, binding
them together forever. She’d felt a strong bond with both of her older children at the time of their births, but this
felt different, deeper somehow, more accepting and less restrictive.
Harm watched them stare at each other, feeling left out and oddly reluctant to speak. Finally, Mac looked up at him,
her eyes shining. "She’s beautiful."
"She is," Harm agreed, reaching over to touch the fuzzy head. "Is her hair red?"
Mac looked closer. "I believe it is. My mother’s hair was red."
"May I?" Harm asked, holding out his arms.
"Of course," Mac said, lifting the baby up so that Harm could take her.
Harm held the baby’s cheek close to his own. "Welcome, little one," he whispered. "I love you." He lowered the baby
again to admire her angelic perfection.
"What’s her name?" a nurse asked.
"Molly Mackenzie," Harm answered. At the sound of his voice, Molly opened her eyes. She seemed to realize who was
holding her and that she wasn’t sure if she liked this big person with the deep, rumbly, not-quite-familiar voice.
She screwed up her little face, opened her tiny mouth, and began to wail. Harm jiggled her slightly and murmured words
of comfort, but she didn’t stop.
"Maybe she’s hungry," Mac suggested. Her other two children had been born starving.
Harm handed the baby back to Mac. She immediately stopped crying. Mac lifted the flap on her gown and put Molly to her
breast. The child suckled for only a few moments before falling into a deep sleep.
Mac’s maternity leave following the birth of her third child had ended after three short weeks. Although the Admiral
would never have asked her to come back early, it was apparent from the reports that Harm brought home and from updates
she received from Harriet that her presence at JAG was sorely missed. Since she was only out temporarily, she hadn’t
been replaced, and the already over-worked staff had had to pick up her slack. With a great deal of trepidation and
guilt, Mac made the decision to return to work after only three weeks of leave.
Her reluctance to return to work early had nothing to do with the fear that she wouldn’t bond properly with her
new daughter. She already had a very strong bond with Molly, and she wasn’t worried that her absence would weaken
that bond.
No, her fears were centered more around Molly’s seeming inability to bond with anyone else, even her father.
Molly was fussy and inconsolable with anyone other than her mother. Mac didn’t know why that was. Harm certainly
made an effort to interact with Molly, but she seemed unsure and fretful in his arms. She was downright upset at
being held by anyone else, but simply being held by her mother was enough to calm her. Mac was very worried about
Molly’s reaction to being left in day care. The first week had been hell on all of them – Mac, Molly, and the day
care provider. But they’d stuck it out, and gradually, Molly had become accepting of the fact that this was to be
her life. She didn’t, however, accept the proposition that she had to be happy about it, and she wasn’t, a fact she
made very obvious. That she was not a happy or well-adjusted child bothered Mac greatly. Both of the older children
had been very outgoing and easily adjusted to changes in their routine. Molly was completely different.
One more piece of the guilt puzzle was that Mac had stopped breast feeding Molly when she’d returned to work. Formula
in a bottle was just so much easier.
Also troubling to her was the fact that she and Harm had slipped back into their old ways of her doing basically
everything where domestic things were concerned. While she was on maternity leave, she hadn’t minded, but when she
returned to duty, he hadn’t resumed his assistance around the house. He excused his inaction with reasons of an
increased work load due to her previous absence, and she knew to some extent that was true for a time. However,
since she’d returned, she’d been pulling her own weight, and that excuse no longer washed. She bit her tongue to
keep the peace for a while, but she knew that couldn’t last forever.
"Is Daddy home yet?" Sabbrina asked for perhaps the hundredth time today. She and Mac were seated at the table,
eating lunch. Matt was in the high chair doodling in the applesauce on his tray. Molly was napping in the bedroom
she shared with Sabbrina now that she was sleeping regularly through the night.
Mac sighed. "No, honey. Not yet."
"When’s he gonna get home?" she persisted.
"I’m not sure exactly. When he called last night, he said he should be home in time for dinner."
"What time is it now?" Sabbrina asked.
"You tell me," Mac suggested. They’d been working on telling time.
Sabbrina stared at the clock, frowning in concentration. "Twelve . . . thirteen."
Mac looked up at the clock. It did, indeed, say twelve thirteen, though her own internal clock had told her it was
twelve fourteen. She didn’t think a one-minute discrepancy made any difference in the grand scheme of things. "Very
good, Bree. You’re getting very good at that."
"I’ve been practicing," Sabbrina informed her proudly.
"It shows. Matty, don’t put applesauce in your hair!" Mac scolded gently, removing Matt’s hand from the top of his
head. "Done?" she asked him.
His answer was to flatten his palm in the blob of applesauce on the tray, spraying bits of mushed fruit in a
one-foot circle.
"Done," Mac decided for him.
"Done done done," Matt repeated.
Quickly and with practiced ease, Mac removed the tray from the high chair, unstrapped Matt, and lifted him out of the
seat. "Bree, would you get me a washcloth, please?"
"Sure, Mom. So when will Daddy be home?" she asked as she left the kitchen.
"Well, we eat dinner at five, so I’d say some time between now and five."
"I miss Daddy," Sabbrina stated when she came back into the kitchen. "He’s been gone a million days."
"I miss him, too, honey," Mac said. "But he’s only been gone six days. It only seems like a million. Thank you, Bree,"
she said, taking the washcloth. "You’re such a big helper when Daddy’s away."
Sabbrina beamed proudly. "Would you like me to play with Matty for a while?"
"That would be wonderful. Thank you," Mac said. She wiped Matt’s face, ran the washcloth over his hair, and washed
his hands. "Go with sister," Mac said, putting him on the floor.
Sabbrina took Matt’s hand and led him into the living room. Mac guessed the "benevolent big sister" act wouldn’t last
very long, but while it did, hopefully she could get lunch cleaned up before Molly woke up.
Mac waited supper until 1730, and when there was no sign of Harm, she fed the children. By the time they’d finished
eating, she’d become very concerned. Finally, she called JAG HQ and spoke with the ensign unlucky enough to have
Saturday duty.
"I’m just wondering if you’re had any word from Commander Rabb."
"Not since early this afternoon, ma’am," she was told.
"The Commander called this afternoon?" she asked, puzzled. Why had Harm called JAG and not her?
"No, ma’am. He was here. He left with the Admiral at . . ." the ensign checked her logs. "Twelve sixteen."
"The Admiral?" Mac repeated, now very confused. "Did they happen to mention where they were going?"
"Not specifically, ma’am. But I did hear the word ‘golf’ mentioned."
GOLF?! He’d gone golfing with the Admiral instead of coming home to his family after six days absence?! "Thank you,
Ensign," she said through clenched teeth. "Enjoy the rest of your weekend." Mac resisted the urge to slam the phone
down and instead replaced it gently. What was he thinking?! Did his family mean to little to him?! Didn’t he realize
his children wanted desperately to see him and spend time with him?! And didn’t she count for anything?!
Mac took a deep, hopefully calming, breath. She would not take this out on her children.
The children had been bathed and pajama’d, and the two older ones were watching television. Matt’s head was lolling
on the arm of the sofa, his eyes two-thirds closed. Sabbrina lay on the floor with Lucy, her head resting on the dog’s
side, engrossed in the cartoon on the screen. Molly had gone to bed twenty minutes ago. Mac flicked the TV off.
"Bed time," she announced.
Sabbrina popped up quickly with her protestations. "But Daddy’s not home yet! I want to see Daddy!"
"See Daddy," Matt repeated sleepily.
Mac bit back to the retort which sprung to her lips about the choice that Daddy had made. "You’ll have to see him in
the morning. It’s already well past your bedtime." She’d let them stay up, knowing how much they wanted to see him,
but enough was enough.
"I want to wait up!" Sabbrina shouted, close to tears.
"Sabbrina Harmony Rabb, don’t you take that tone with me! It’s past your bedtime, and you’re going to bed!"
They both heard the front door open.
"Daddy’s home!" Sabbrina yelled joyously. She jumped to her feet and crossed the room in a blur, throwing herself into
her father’s arms.
Mac picked Matt up off the couch. He said, "Daddy," then put his head down on her shoulder, sleeping soundly.
"Sabbrina. Bed. Now," Mac ordered.
"I’ll take her," Harm offered. He ruffled his sleeping son’s hair gently and kissed Mac on the cheek. If he noticed
that she didn’t smile in return, he didn’t say anything.
"Read me a story, Daddy!" Sabbrina begged.
"A short one," Mac interjected. "It’s late."
"Let’s go, pumpkin," Harm said, scooping his daughter up into his arms.
Mac put Matt down in his crib and covered him with a blanket. As she always did, she stood and marveled at his beauty
before turning the night light on and leaving his room. She could hear Harm’s lowered voice in Sabbrina’s room, and
she shook her head, her anger very close to the surface, ready to bubble out. It would take an effort to keep a lid
on it.
She emptied Harm’s bag into the clothes hamper, then went into the kitchen to begin a grocery list. She was studying
the baby food supply when Harm came up behind her and put his arms around her waist. He buried his nose in her hair,
inhaling deeply.
"Have you eaten?" she asked, her body stiff and unyielding in his arms.
"Yeah. Sorry I missed dinner."
"Good trip?" she asked, wondering if he would voluntarily tell her where he’d been all afternoon.
"It was all right," he sighed. "Too long. I missed you." He nuzzled her neck.
"Just how long was it?" Mac asked.
Harm stopped. "Huh?"
"Just how long was your trip, Harm?"
Harm seemed to notice for the first time that all was not well with her. Being a smart man, he also figured out that
she knew where he’d been today and that she wasn’t pleased with him.
He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. "Any time I spend away from you is too long," he said with a
playful smile.
"Oh, cut the crap!" she said, unimpressed. She looked up at him, challenging him to own up.
Harm sighed. "I take it you know I went golfing with the Admiral today."
"Yes," she said. "A fact I learned when I called the office when you didn’t show up when we expected you to. You
didn’t call because you knew I’d be upset."
"Mac, what was I supposed to do?!" he asked innocently. "I stopped at the office to drop off some files. The Admiral
was there. He mentioned the golf courses were all closing this weekend. He practically ordered me to go!"
"Not even the Admiral has the authority to order you to go golfing on your personal time," Mac pointed out.
"You know the Admiral! What was I supposed to do?!"
"You could have told him ‘no’. You could have said you hadn’t seen your family in a week, and you were anxious to get
home. You could, at the very least, have called and told me where you were so I would have known what to tell Bree
very time she asked where you were!"
"I’m sorry," he said.
She waited for more, but there was none. "You’re sorry? That’s the best you can do?!"
"I don’t know what else you want from me."
"What I want is for you to decide that your family is at least as important to you as golf is. I’m going to bed."
She started to pull away from him, but he held her. "I love you, Mac. You know that."
She rested her hand on his cheek. "I *do* know that. I’m just not sure it’s enough any more."
Frightened by her words, he dropped his arms and let her go.
Minutes later, Mac felt Harm climb into bed behind her. She lay with her back to him, as far on her own side of the
bed as she could get without falling off. She felt him slide over until he was pressing up against her back.
"Here you are," he murmured. "I was beginning to think I’d need a map to locate your position."
Mac sighed. "I’m tired, Harm."
One of his big hands came to rest on her hip."I’m sorry," he offered again, breathing in her ear. His hand traced down
her leg, then back up again. When he reached her waist, he slid his hand under her pajama top. His hand was warm and
solid on her stomach. The little voice that told her she was fraternizing with the enemy was drowned by a wave of
passion.