When A Child Is Born by doc

Fortune Cookie Prompt #3: Watch out for the red car.

A/N: This story is the third, and final piece, to my Christmas Ficathon trilogy. The first two stories were entitled 'In the Bleak Midwinter,' and 'Lo How a Rose E'er Blooming'. This fortune cookie prompt was a little more difficult, so I threw in the HBX December challenge lines and came up with this bit of fun and whimsy.

Summary:The first story took place in Season 9 during the episode 'A Merry Little Christmas', and found Harm and Mac at odds after he uttered the words, "Forget about it! It's too important for you to screw up." Mac, in an attempt to mend the riff, chased after Harm only to be involved in a serious car accident. The first story ends with Harm and Mac engaged, but unforeseen complications result in a medical catastrophe.

The second story picks up a year later at Christmastime. Harm and Mac are now married and learn they are about to experience the best Christmas gift of all…a child.

And the tale continues…

xxxxx

Disclaimer: I don't own JAG or any of the characters. I just take them out and play with them on occasion before replacing them safe and sound back on the shelf. The title for this story comes from a song by the same name. 'When A Child Is Born' (Soleado) was written by Fred Jay, and the melody composed by Ciro Dammico, alias Zacar. While not originally written as a Christmas carol, over the years since its debut, it has become a favorite song for the holiday season.

Special thanks to Mom, my faithful finder and keeper of all things related to spelling and grammar

xxxxx

17:40

Early December 2005

The Rabb Household

Mac slipped the key into the lock and turned the handle of the front door. Slipping inside, she dropped her briefcase on the floor, and placed her purse on the front hall table along with her damp cover. Stomping the snow off her shoes, she toed them off on the rug beside the front door. She was just about to hang up her coat when conspiring voices from the living room caught her ear.

"Now Maggie, proper young ladies don't chew on their toes!"

She quietly crept past the stairs, dropping her coat on the ladder-back chair along the way, and stealthily tiptoed to the living room entrance. Peaking around the corner she spied her husband and four-month old daughter playing on the floor. Unable to suppress a giggle, she ducked back into the hall and hovered just outside the doorframe, covertly listening to the duet's private conversation about deportment and etiquette.

"We've discussed this before, MagPie…only Daddy's allowed to nibble on your toes."

Mac slapped a hand over her mouth trying to contain her rumbling laughter. The sound of noisy raspberries and Daddy kisses being blown on soft baby skin could be heard resonating all the way into the hall. The thunderous volume of the oral attack was only marginally eclipsed by the ear-piercing shrieks of her daughter's high-pitched squeals of delight. Unable to withstand the lure of temptation posed by the impromptu father-baby confab, she stepped past the doorframe and stole into a far corner of the room. Hovering just out of sight, she merrily observed the pair.

"Okay, enough with the fun, young lady," Harm sat his daughter up on his bent knees and stared into her eyes, daughter-to-dad. "You and I need to have a serious discussion about social norms, expectations and goals."

Maggie reached out a soggy hand and grabbed her daddy's nose. "Missth Maggie, you're justh not…" The baby laughed at her father's nasally tone of voice, and Mac chomped down on her lip to prevent joining in the fun. Harm gently pried his daughter's death grip from his beak, and swiped away the baby drool and formula slobber slowly trickling down his cheek.

Placing his daughter an arm's length away, he continued, "As I was saying, it's never to early to set goals and expectations. The first objective on the list has got to be…no sucking on toes, fingers or any other appendage, whether attached to your own cute little self, or someone else." The baby smiled and a line of drool beaded and dribbled from her bow-shaped bottom lip onto her daddy's nice clean jeans.

"That's another thing, Maggie-Doodle…successful woman don't drool!" He wiped away the mountainous bubble forming on her lips just before it could pop.

Shaking his head, he clucked his tongue in a 'tsk-tsking' fashion, "Now see…that's just what Daddy's talking about. How often do you see Mommy blowing slobber bubbles like that?!"

Maggie's only response was to blow a raspberry reply around her now shiny wet thumb. Harm grabbed the burp cloth off his left shoulder and gently dabbed at his daughter's face.

"Sweetie, if you wanna grow-up to be successful like your mommy, there's a few rules you need to understand." He studied his daughter with a discerning eye, "You do wanna grow up to be like your mama, don'cha Maggie?"

The baby smiled, all the while kicking her feet, arms and legs flying in a wild frenzy. "That's what I thought!" he nodded in mock approval.

"Ya know, your mom's a very special lady, and we're really lucky to have her in our lives. There was a time, a couple years back, when I thought I might loooose heeeer…" his voice cracked, and he swallowed hard to clear the overwhelming emotions evoked by the memory.

"Anyway, we'll talk about that sometime in the future, when you're a bit older," he stroked a finger through his daughter's dark hair, marveling at just how much she resembled Mac.

"Now, where was I? Oh yeah…your mom! The thing is, Maggie…your mommy, she's a good-looking woman. Stunningly beautiful, actually. I still can't believe she took a liking to a swabbie like me. You see, she's a marine…and marines and sailors don't always get along. In fact, the first time Mommy and me worked a case together…she pulled a gun on your daddy. Now, in all honesty, she was just trying to rescue your Great Uncle Matt…but still, she impressed the hell-lllo…um heck, I mean heck…outta me. I'd never met a woman who was so tough and strong. Did I mention she pulled Daddy into a helicopter? Of course, she wouldn't have had to, if Daddy hadn't been dangling off the side."

He looked down to find his daughter listening to him with rapt attention, eyes bulging wide. "By the way," he shook a finger in her direction, "…you're not allowed to do that…dangle off helicopters that is! No Special Forces for you!" Maggie gurgled and cooed her objection.

"Noooo, I don't care what you say…Daddy's being quite serious here. I know girls can do anything boys can do…but NO SPECIAL FORCES!" Maggie laughed at her daddy's stern voice.

He rolled his eyes and muttered, "I can see you're gonna be a load of fun as a teenager."

"Now where was I again?" He scratched his cheek, "Oh yeah, your mom's glowing attributes. Let's see," he gazed at the ceiling, "…she's smart…really smart. Don't tell Mommy, but sometimes, she runs circles 'round Daddy in court. In fact, sometimes Daddy has to resort to crazy schemes and shenanigans to gain the upper hand…like shooting off a gun in the court room or… Ah, scratch that, maybe it's not such a good idea to provide you with inspiration for wayward stunts. Let's just keep that little 'slip of the tongue' a secret between you and Daddy…okay squirt?" He held Maggie's hand aloft and gave her a 'high five'.

"Okay, back to your mom…um, let's see, she's loving and giving. She has a heart a mile wide. She never gives up. She never abandons or leaves anyone behind," he tapped a finger against his lip in thought.

Eyes lighting up in mischief, he crooned, "Of course, she does have a tattoo! It's located right on her… Ah, never mind…that's another one of those things you don't need to know. In fact," he flashed her a menacing fatherly glare, "…you're not allowed to get a tattoo either! I don't care what the other kids say and do…NO TATTOO!"

When Maggie giggled, he reprimanded in a soft but firm voice, "No, no, young lady! Daddy's very serious about this. I want you to write it down on your 'off limits' list. 'No Tattoo' belongs right next to, 'No Special Forces'! Oh, and one other thing," he shook his finger, "…never trust a guy who drives a red car! Yes, I know Daddy has a red car, but Daddy's the only exception to the rule. NO RED CARS!"

At that moment, Harm heard riotous laughter ring out from behind him. Quirking his head to the left, he peered over his shoulder into the shining eyes of his wife. She was doubled over, gasping for breath, with tears rolling down her cheeks.

"How long have you been there?" he muttered, cheeks burning bright.

"Let's…seeee," the words slurred out betweens bursts of levity, "…I remember something…about…chewing on…toes." She tried to calm and control her giggles. "I only wish…I'd had the video recorder…your mom…would've loved…"

"Hey now…there's no need to go to extremes! Let's just keep this between the three of us! No need to drag in other combatants!" he slouched down further, pouting behind the couch.

She pranced toward him, a smile still dancing in her eyes. "There's no need to be embarrassed. I thought it was really very sweet." She sat down beside her beloved pair, and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

"I don't s'pose we can forget this ever happened?" he ducked his head away chagrinned.

"Don't see that happening," she caressed his bright warm cheek, "…but I'm sure you'll find something equally discomforting to hold over my head." He rolled his eyes in disagreement. "Besides, I love you in full 'Daddy Mode', and most of what you said was very complimentary to me."

"Noticed that did you?" he bumped his shoulder to hers.

"Yep," she quirked a brow, "…all except that tattoo comment." She leaned up for a proper 'Hello, I've Missed You All Day--So Glad To Be Home' kiss. Maggie's squeal for attention broke the spell before the kiss could get out of hand.

Mac reached for her daughter and lifted her overhead, "There's Mommy's baby girl. Did you have fun with Daddy today?" The baby extended her arms, waving her hands like little birds in flight. Mac pulled her closer, slathering her with kisses from ear to ear.

The grandfather clock struck the six o'clock hour, and Mac looked up in a horrified panic. "Shoot! With all the fun, I forgot…the photographer's gonna be here any minute!"

She gawked at her nearly naked daughter, bedecked only in a disposable diaper, and her bare-chested spouse. "Harm, you two were supposed to be dressed and ready! Now, all three of us need to get changed!"

"Calm down, Marine…it's okay. The photographer called to say he's running late. I don't expect him before 7…7:30." Mac visibly deflated with relief.

"As for our cloothesss," he drew out the syllable, "…we had a little mishap. Didn't we, MagPie?"

Mac warily eyed the pair, "What kinda mishap?"

"Ahhhh, the kind where Maggie erupted like Mt. Vesuvius all over our fancy duds."

"Harrrmmm…"

"Don't look at me," he shook his head and pointed, "…she did it!"

Maggie giggled at her parents funny expressions and yo-yoing words. "Hey, don'cha blame me, baby sweet thing!" he wiggled a finger at the miniature version of his wife.

Rubbing a hand over her weary face, Mac sighed, "How did this happen?"

"I told you she hated formula!"

"There were three bottles of breastmilk in the fridge when I left this morning," she screwed her face up in disgust when Maggie nailed her uniform blouse with curdled milk.

He tipped is head in that 'Told You So' superior way of his, which quickly morphed into contrition. "One of the bottles kinda…exploded in the…ah, microwave," he shrugged his shoulders begging forgiveness.

"Do I even wanna see the microwave?" she eyed him.

He looked away mumbling, "I, ah…might recommend…ah, avoiding the…um, kitchen…all together."

"Harrrmmm…"

"Sorry," he grimaced, "…I'll, ah…clean it up later."

Mac peered at her daughter with a perplexed expression, "Maggie, what's Mama gonna do with you?" The baby cooed and giggled, reaching up to pat Mac's face. "Alright, I guess we'll have to keep ya. Besides, I think Daddy would pick you over Mama any day."

"Fat chance," Harm snorted, "…I'm not letting either of you outta my sight!"

"So?!"

Harm cast Mac a dubious gaze, "Sooooo…."

"What are we gonna do about Maggie's dress? Harm, your mom's gonna kill me!" She glared when he laughed outright. "I'm serious! She had that dress ordered special from one of those exclusive baby boutiques in San Francisco. She specifically asked for a portrait of Maggie in 'that' Christmas dress! She's gonna kill me," she shook her head in frustration, "…I'm a failure as a daughter-in-law."

No longer able to hold it in, Harm erupted in laughter, "Don't be dramatic, MacKenzie." When she scowled, he rushed on undeterred, "First of all, you reached near perfection in Mom's book, when you managed to finally haul me in after all these years. I think she was beginning to wonder if I was gay, and all my previous girlfriends were merely props in the allusion. The fact that you provided her with the coveted grandbaby after she gave up all hope and expectation in my fatherly abilities, moves you past perfection," his hand flew skyward, "…to downright saint status. Personally, I think she likes you better than me!"

"But Harm, the dress…"

"Don't worry about the dress!" He reached for his daughter, wiggling her overhead, and spoke in a singsongy voice, "You hated that dress…didn't ya, Maggie. Tell Mommy…it was all flouncey and big. You looked like a giant red velvet pompom. Plus, the lace scratched your neck and arms, creating angry red welts."

"Fine! You tell your mom why there's no Christmas portrait!"

"I will," he bumped his arm into hers, "…if anyone has to take the fall, leave it to me. Besides…"

He reached under the couch and withdrew an 8x10 sheet of photo paper. Handing it to her, he smiled proud as peacock, "I played around with a little digital photography of my own today."

She studied the picture in silence, hand cupped over her mouth and tears in her eyes. "How did you…"

"Maggie and I had a little fun this afternoon…didn't we, doodle bug." Maggie giggled her reply and reached for the photo. "No, no baby, that one's for Mommy's desk. We have another one for Daddy's, and a larger version for Gummy and Papa."

"It's beautiful…your mom's gonna love it," the words bubbled out between gasps and tears.

"Hey, I didn't think it would make you cry!"

"Hormones," she waved a dismissive hand.

"But you're not pregnant anymore," he teased, snaking an arm around her shoulders.

"Doesn't matter…woman's prerogative," she wiped a finger under her eyes to dry the moisture. Studying the picture of her daughter, she shook her head in amazement, "Where'd you find the box?"

"Made it," he preened, "…I thought we should share our very best gift this year!"

Mac chuckled softly, all the while, examining the portrait. He'd positioned a huge wrapped gift box in front of the Christmas tree, with the lid tipped off to the side. Mountains of tissue paper sprang from the box, and perched in the middle of the holiday extravaganza was Maggie giggling in the aforementioned red velvet Christmas dress.

"Harm, this is so amazing…I can't believe…"

"So, do ya think this will satisfy Gummy?" he tapped the corner of the photo.

"Oh yeah," Mac nodded, "…I think she's gonna be one proud grandma." She graced him with his most favorite smile, "You really saved my neck with this one." She set the photo aside for safekeeping, and wrapped her arms around his chest. Head tipped up, her lips sought out his.

When they parted, he winked, "I aim to please, darlin."

She rested her head against his shoulder and chuckled back, "Every now and then I catch you being nice."

"Keep it to yourself, okay? I've got a reputation to protect." He squeezed her hand, "As for the photographer's family Christmas portrait, I was thinking something comfortable and relaxed. How about the soft red and white striped Christmas sleeper you bought last week? Maggie will look just like one of Santa's elves dressed up in it. And you and I can wear those red cashmere sweaters you picked out, along with some jeans. As long as Mom has a photo to share with her friends, I think she'll be satisfied…to a grandma, it's all about bragging rights, after all," he waggled his brow.

xxxxx

Later that evening…

Harm dried his hands on the dishtowel and hung it from the oven door. Taking stock of the now sparkling kitchen, he sighed with satisfaction and exhaustion. Grabbing a Christmas cutout cookie on the way out the door, he turned to head upstairs. Before reaching the stairs, he flicked off the front hall lights and clicked the lock. The twinkling lights on the Christmas tree caught his attention, and he wandered into the living room to unplug the tree.

The angel ornament sparkled and flickered in the dim light of the room. He stopped to take note of the simple symbol of peace and support. Reaching out, he tapped the crystal angel and watched as it twirled in the sparkle of Christmas lights.

"Hey Dad," he whispered, "…you've got a new grandbaby this year. I know you've probably noticed the hubbub and chaos around here, as well as, the laughter and fun. Maggie, that's her name…well, Margaret actually, but we call her Maggie." He shook his head, "She's really something, Dad. I never imagined it could be like this. Who knew you could fall in love so fast and so overwhelmingly complete in the span of a heartbeat? She amazes me everyday with some new feat or just the light of her smile. She actually has a special one, just for me. I don't know what I would do without her or Mac."

He glanced heavenward and blinked back the moisture in his eyes, "So Dad, if you don't mind…keep looking out for my two best girls. My world would surely come to an end without their smiles."

He tapped the ornament once more then leaned down to unplug the tree. Heading out of the room, he turned back one final time, "Night Dad…love you. Thanks for keeping a watchful eye."

He wearily climbed the stairs, and wandered down the hall past the master bedroom. Standing in the doorway to the nursery, he paused to study the heavenly sight inside. Mac was relaxed in the rocking chair feeding their daughter. Her fingers stroked through Maggie's soft dark curls, and a gentle contented smile graced her face. Maggie's eyes were closed and her body almost completely relaxed in sleep. Mac drew a finger in a gentle caress over the baby's cheek, and Maggie's mouth puckered before resuming its gentle suckling and thrusting motion. This was a real life picture for which he would never tire, he mused in thought.

Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed on his chest, one foot angled over the other, he whispered, "Told you, she liked you better."

Mac looked up startled, and Maggie began to wiggle in her grasp. She tightened her arm around the baby's small body, and the little one settled once more.

"Sorry," he whispered in hushed tones and crept into the room. He paused beside the chair, running a finger over Maggie's cheek to entice her to finish nursing, then leaned down to kiss her soft baby head. Inhaling deeply, he smiled at the sweet scent of baby powder and lotion, with just the hint of that something more inherent in one so small. The special essence unique to a baby girl, which evokes images of ballerinas, angels, fairy princesses, and all things wistful and soft.

Squeezing one of Mac's shoulders, he stole a quick kiss, and wandered over to the bedroom window. Staring into the dark night, he watched the tiny snowflakes swirl and fall in the illumination of the streetlamps. His breath fogged the window, and he drug a finger through the condensation in a crisscrossing snowflake pattern.

"It's snowing," his gaze remained transfixed on the early winter storm, "…starting to look like Christmas."

"Mmmm…started on the way home," she softly uttered, as she shifted Maggie onto her shoulder, gently patting her back. "There was already a half inch when I came in the door."

"Looks like a couple by now." A smile played on his lips, "The snowflakes are so small and lazily drifting down…it's look like the angels are sifting powdered sugar."

"Powdered sugar, huh?" She gently laid the baby in the crib and joined him at the window, burrowing into his side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, but continued to watch the wintry scene, while lost in thought.

She bumped her hip to his, "I said…powdered sugar, huh?"

He smiled at her playful teasing tone, and turned to face her fully. Wrapping both arms around tight, he pulled her into a warm embrace, "Maggie and I were baking cookies this afternoon. You can blame my confectionary description on Grandma Sarah's Famous Christmas Cutout recipe."

She flashed him a wry grin and reached up to swipe a dab of frosting from his chin. Licking her thumb, she chuckled, "That would explain the pink icing between Maggie's toes."

He ducked his head to hide the blush, "Thought I got that washed off when I gave her a bath."

"Care to explain how it got there in the first place," she raised a brow, still smiling in amusement.

"Better to nibble on," he shrugged his shoulders.

"Which one…you or Maggie?"

"Both," he grinned unrepentantly, "…after all, Maggie needed a taste of her Great Grandma's Christmas cookies, even if it was only the frosting. And personally," he puffed up his chest in challenge, "…I happen to think her toes taste best when lathered in butter cream icing."

"What happened to the 'No Chewing on Toes' etiquette rule," she tugged on his catywampus ear.

"Ah, you obviously missed Corollary 'a-22', subcategory 'b' to Rule #1… 'Only Daddy is allowed to nibble on MagPie's frosted toes'," he punctuated the declaration with a superior index finger waving in the air.

"Well then, I stake claim to her pudgy thighs," Mac crooned back. They both giggled with unbridled joy at the serious tone of their ludicrous 'Division of Assets'.

Once they had calmed down, Harm pulled her to his chest, rubbing his cheek against the perfumed softness of her hair. She snuggled her face into his neck, wiggling her nose at the scratchy roughness of his late evening beard. Swaying them to and fro in the dim moonlight cast through the nursery window, he peered into their daughter's crib and began to hum.

"Where'd ya hear that tune?" Mac sighed with sleepy contentment against his skin, causing him shiver and tighten his embrace.

"On the radio…while Maggie and I…were cooking," he yawned.

Reaching for her hand, he tucked it to his chest, and began to leisurely waltz them around the room. "This is nice," she kissed his neck in a nipping fashion, working her way to his ear.

"Mmmm-um," he agreed humming between his words "… the song reminded me…of how blessed our Christmas is this year…you, me and Maggie. I can't think of another gift I want or desire more…than the happiness and love of our family."

Continuing to slowly circle the nursery, he softly sang the words…

A ray of hope flickers in the sky

A tiny star lights up way up high

All across the land dawns a brand new morn

This comes to pass, when a child is born

A silent wish sails the seven seas

The winds of change whisper in the trees

And the walls of doubt crumble tossed and torn

This comes to pass, when a child is born

A rosy hue settles all around

You got the feel you're on solid ground

For a spell or two no one seems forlorn

This comes to pass, when a child is born…

The End…for real this time!