Part 1b

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She awakened to the brilliance of sunshine streaming through the glass. Squinting in the glare, her eyes slowly accustomed to the early morning dawn, and she snuggled into the warmth provided by the many layers of covers. She studied the scenic view of the lake just beyond the windowpanes, and once again marveled at its breathtaking beauty. After the turmoil of the last several months, it felt strange to awaken to such peacefulness, renewed and excited about the promises of a new day. Stretching languorously into the plush depths of the featherbed, she vowed to pursue all the promises and possibilities, and burrowed even deeper into the covers.

Just as she started to lazily drift off, something white and fluffy caught her eye. Perplexed, she pushed up from the pillows and stared wide-eyed at the downy chaos strewn across her bed. Lifting a piece of the cottony fluff aloft for further inspection, she twirled it between her fingers, then shrieked in horror. She frantically scanned the expanse of the room. Searching…seeking…hunting. Sighing, she collapsed in relief, as her eyes finally fell upon the beloved target of her quest. He was positioned playfully on the edge of the pillow, nestled and waiting patiently beside her head, asking only to be noticed. Clutched in his paws was a folded note card with her name scribbled in flowing cursive across the front. She confiscated the note from his grasp, and settled Winnie into her lap. Opening the card, she giggled for the first time in ages, as she lightheartedly read aloud:

My Dear Marine,

Relax, neither beast nor Pooh bear have been harmed in my quest for discovering the truth. Though, I cannot say the same for my mother's pillow. Suffice it to say, I have been successfully de-fluffed, de-waxed, and de-cleaned, and am now ready to pay heed to anything and everything you wish to share.

--Yours forever or as close as possible, Harm

She fell back into the mountainous heap of pillows and laughed with unbridled joy. The day was truly shaping up to be unexpectedly spectacular.

xxx

An hour later, he bounded through the cabin door; cheeks red and rosy, sweat pouring down his face. He was wheezing for air, but all things considered, the eight-mile run had been wonderfully invigorating. He'd forgotten how much he enjoyed running in the wilderness during the autumn season. Though, the altitude and his forced exile from the sport had tested his endurance, he had persevered in his renewed commitment to running marathons. It might have only been eight miles, but you have to start somewhere he mused.

He stripped the drenched sweatshirt over his head, and toed off his running shoes by the door. Wiping his face on the soft fleece, he tossed it over his shoulder and headed off in search of a shower. Midway to his destination, his nose caught scent of the most tantalizing aroma, and he veered off course, curiosity winning out. He strolled into the kitchen to discover Mac flipping pancakes over a cast-iron skillet. A smudge of flour colored her chin.

"Ah, what'cha doing, Mac?" his bemused smile lit up the room.

"Making breakfast," she proudly beamed back.

His eyes scanned the ingredients scattered across the counter. "You found all this in my kitchen?"

"Nope," she slid a couple of pancakes onto a pie tin and slipped them into the oven.

He leaned against the doorjamb; arms crossed on his chest, and casually hooked one foot over the other. He looked relaxed and at ease, as he watched her flit about his kitchen, taking extreme pleasure in the idea of her cooking breakfast just for him. He marveled at how effortlessly she had wormed her way past the walls his heart, yet again, and pondered with dread how he would survive if she chose to walk away. Shaking away his unsettling thoughts, he emerged back into the present.

"Borrowed the ingredients from the neighbors?" he decided he could play the question game too.

"You don't have any neighbors," she laughed.

"That's not true…there's probably a bear or two out there," he teased.

"Nope, I already checked…he's on the table waiting for breakfast," she nodded toward the stuffed teddy bear sitting patiently in the sun.

He wandered over to the table, and flicked Winnie's ears, "You gonna tell me what we're having, or did Pooh make a special request?"

"Gingerbread pancakes with lemon sauce," she quirked a brow and waited for his sarcastic retort.

"Wow," he released an impressed whistle in a low tune, "…when did you learn to cook?"

"Always could," she shrugged and proceeded to pour more batter into the pan, "…but seldom needed to with you around." She peered up through her lashes, "After you left," her eyes jumped away from his, "…I needed to find my way around the kitchen again."

He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, "So, ah…where'd you say you found the ingredients? I'm pretty sure there wasn't any molasses in my cupboards."

"Did some grocery shopping on the way up," she flipped the next set of pancakes up in the air. "I figured you could use a good meal or two, while I was here. If you're like me, you haven't been eating much of late."

His eyes misted over at her obvious concern. Blinking back the tears, he cleared his throat, and pointed toward the bedroom, "Do I, ah… have time to hit the shower?"

"Sure, I'll keep'em warm in the oven," her eyes followed him as he headed away from the kitchen, "…just don't take long. Think MARINE shower not NAVY!" she yelled after him, chuckling at her own joke.

When she returned her attention to the task at hand, he circled back, leaned in close and kissed the top of her head. "Thanks Mac," he whispered and quickly scurried from the room.

One of those tight places in her chest, the one that choked her heart, loosened another notch. And she hummed along with the chickadees, as they sang their morning song.

xxx

They spent the afternoon together. Packed a picnic lunch and an armload of blankets, before heading out on the boat. The sun was warm, and the fall breeze nippy, as they steered the vessel along the inlet to the larger lake beyond.

During the mundane tasks of fishing…baiting hooks, casting lines, interminable waits…they swapped stories, rehashed childhood adventures, and embellished college-day pranks. Finally, as the sun dipped toward the west, they cautiously broached the subject of more recent days…unclassified missions, perplexing cases, updates on colleagues and friends. They purposefully tiptoed about, skipped around, leaped over, and skillfully dodged all reminiscence linked their South American trip. Neither quite brave enough nor foolhardy to pick at the unhealed scabs of that snake-infested bottomless pit.

As dusk drew nigh, he deftly steered the boat back into its mooring with the practiced-ease of one trained in maritime acts. And as they unloaded the fishing gear, blankets and picnic supplies, their hearts buckled under the weight of the baggage that remained unspoken, unquestioned and misunderstood. Too afraid to inquire after the answer their hearts both coveted and feared the most, they remained shrouded in paralyzing silence. He sulked away despondent to clean fish and prepare the grill, while she chopped at veggies trying to cut away the hidden meanings and mishandled words. Dinner was served in silence, and dessert in hushed tones. And as the evening wore on, the amassed burden of the unsaid words threatened to topple the tenuously reconstructed bridge linking the two adrift souls.

As she dried the last of the dishes, he slinked off muttering something about air. One final swipe of the counter banished her too, deep into her thoughts and the solitude of bed. But even buried under the mountainous security of blankets and bathed in the warmth of the moon, she couldn't halt the quivering trembles or silence the shaking voice…that soulfully insistent little echo starved and frozen near to death at the center of her core. The one that only flamed to life when communed in oneness with him.

Inevitably and unfailingly, she found her way back to him. Hot chocolate in hand, down comforter wrapped around tight, she stood before him on the deck…eyes silently beseeching her case. She handed him first one piping hot mug then the other. Sitting beside him, in the rocking chair to the right, she untwisted the duvet and gently shook it aloft, allowing the downy warmth of it to settle over them both. And with the contented sigh exhaled from a soul finally home, she reached for the ceramic mug mounded in marshmallow foam.

They sat in relaxed silence watching stars burst overhead, and she marveled at the perfect tranquility of this moment in time. How the mere proximity of him hushed the reproving shrill voices and stilled her quivering fears.

When he released a sigh from somewhere deep inside, she decided to cautiously broach a perilous question. "Harm?"

"Mmmm?" his voice was soft and easy.

"About the Admiral's offer," she set her empty mug off to the side and reached for his.

"What offer?" he bristled.

"Coming back to JAG…"

"Mac, I don't think…" he shifted restlessly, as he cut off her comment.

"Just hear me out," she rested her hand against his arm, "…we're so overwhelmed with, ah…or um…" she stumbled over the words at his incensed glare.

"That's why…."

"No! No, I mean…of course not! We…we want you back…we NEED you back…your expertise, your…"

"I should've known that you had only come…" his voice trailed off, and eyes flicked away to hide the intense disappointment.

Her response was immediate and heartfelt, "That's not why I came! I hadn't seen or heard from you in months, and I wanted to make sure you were okay…especially after Beth. But, first and foremost, I came as a friend, because I care."

He shrugged noncommittally and continued staring straight ahead. An uncomfortable silence settled in.

After a few moments, she tried again. "Harm, we are overloaded, and indeed, do need your help…but more than that, we need you back…'want' you back. If all we needed was help, we could request additional personnel…more lawyers, ancillary staff. But that's not what we need; we need you. JAG…it's just not the same without you."

He glanced back her way, expression masked. "So, what's going on that has everyone so flustered?"

"You won't believe it," she flashed him a tentative grin. "Carolyn Imes? Turns out she's not a lawyer."

"I could've told you that!" He snorted a riotous grunt.

"Harm, I'm serious…she never passed the Michigan Bar," she shook her head at his incredulous look. "All the cases she prosecuted and won are being reviewed. It's a huge burden of work, on top of our already ridiculous caseload."

"Ah, so that's way Chegwidden decided to 'invite' me back. He's short an attorney, and the Sec Nav is breathing down is neck for the Imes' debacle," he snorted in disgust. "I don't know, Mac. After all, who's to say I won't ride off half-cocked on some flight of fancy ruled by my emotions again?" He shook his head in derision.

She held her tongue a moment to let his emotions calm. When he peered sideways in her direction, she looked down and studied her lap. "You're right, Harm," her voice was quiet and introspective, "…what the Admiral said that day in his office," she gritted her teeth, "…it still frosts me. You saved my life, rescued Webb, destroyed the Stinger missiles and a terrorist plot…and all he could see was…"

"It's okay, Mac," his voice came out soft and soothing, "…I accomplished my primary goal…you came home safe. The rest of it," he waved his hand dismissively, "…it was important too, but that's not why I went." He looked away again, "I just didn't expect to lose it all in the end."

"I know," her hushed words were swallowed up by the wind, "…me either."

He squinted his eyes, hoping to bury the overwhelming sadness, and inhaled deeply. "So, Chegwidden wants me back in the Navy…at JAG…under him? What's he plan to strip me? You know, teaching me a lesson and all?" He shrugged, bravado rapidly waning.

"No cuts, no payback, no retribution…you come back just like you left, Sailor."

"Flight status?"

"Intact," she paused, a subtle smile playing at her lips, "…flyboy."

He nodded, "So, AJ wants me back, Bud and Harriet…Sturgis?" She nodded in the affirmative. He glanced away, before his eyes settled back to hers, soft and gentle, searching. "What about you, Mac? Do you want me back?"

Staring into the wide expanse of the evening sky, she wondered why she always had to go first, laying out her battered heart on display for yet another round of rejection and pain. A falling star burned bright then streaked across the inky blackness of the night, and in that moment she just knew. Tears formed in her eyes blurring her vision, but she steeled her nerves and called upon her waning courage. Taking a deep breath, she slipped her hand under the blanket and unerringly sought out his. Fingers curling around his roughened skin, she whispered back, "Especially me, Sailor…especially me."

His fingers flexed around hers, holding firm. Her head fell against his arm, and his stubbled cheek brushed in the perfumed softness of her hair. The wind rustled around them in cool darkness, and the waves lapped the shore, as the crickets strummed the soft enchanting melody of a soothing nighttime song.

He caught the tail of a falling star and remembered a childhood verse. A little boy, he urgently prayed, another place, another time. "Star light, star bright…The first star I see tonight…I wish I may, I wish I might…Have this wish I wish tonight." Eyes closed, he silently implored the twinkling stars above to grant just this…his only wish…his heart's truest joy.

As the moments turned to minutes, and the minutes to near an hour, he felt her body slump more heavily against his arm. Gingerly peering downward, he regarded her relaxed features, closed eyes and gentle breathing, and realized she'd fallen asleep. He studied her closely in the soft glow of the moon and marveled, not for the first time, at the incredible beauty that shined through from her soul.

Finally, as the temperature dropped to near freezing, he deftly stood from the chair, all the while supporting her weight. Reverently, he lifted her into his arms and settled her upon his chest. Creeping toward the patio door, she began to stir, but a few whispered words and a "go back to sleep" proved the magical command. As he shifted her in his arms, wrapping the comforter around tighter, he was once again taken aback by her light burden and willowy form. The last months had obviously worn heavily upon her, just as they had him. He berated himself for his stubbornness, the lack of communication and heedless neglect of her care.

He gently laid her upon the bed, removing the slippers and robe. Pulling the bedding up to her chin, he tucked it in place and quietly knelt beside her. He stroked his fingers through her hair, watching her sleep, and contemplated what possibly was and just maybe could still be.

He lovingly kissed her cheek, whispering to the moon. "I wish I may, I wish I might…Have this wish I wish tonight…"

xxx

The next morning she found him at daybreak perched upon a stone ledge. The sun had barely crested the horizon, and the morning winds howled wild and cold through the vibrant colored trees. She clutched her quilted jacket tighter, staving off the chill, as she picked her way toward him along the narrow path. Arriving at his side, she leaned over the split-cedar railing, and watched a gentle stream meander on its course. The water tripped along the pebbled bottom, wound around boulders and rocks, before spilling out in a cascading waterfall to the pool below.

She sidled closer to his side, but his eyes never veered from the flowing water. Wind ruffled and mused through his hair. The sunlight danced in his eyes, and kissed his cheeks to a cherry-red glow. Finally, she wiggled closer still, and interlinked their arms. He startled to the unperceived intrusion, but instantly graced her with a warm and welcoming smile

"Hey," his voice came out hoarse and quiet.

"Morning," she whispered back in a similar reverenced tone. She inhaled the clean mountain air, and exhaled on a slow easy sigh. Her breathing finally hitched at the end, as she squirmed in nervousness.

When he furrowed his brow in question, she diverted her eyes from his inquiring gaze. "I have to leave today," she grumbled with overbearing regret.

"I know," his monotone response echoed resigned disappointment.

His eyes retuned to the flow of the river, as he mapped out each subtle eddy and current. The easy sounds of nature reverberated and danced around them in a pleasant hymn of mirth.

She maneuvered even closer seeking out his warmth. His extended arm obliged her, and she ducked beneath, snuggling into his side.

"What'cha doing?" she asked when the silence became unbearable.

"Watching the stream," he leaned over the wooden railing, gesturing with his head.

"I can see that," she chuckled lightly, "…why?"

"Well, according to Pooh, who I have on the best authority, is quite brilliant," he winked and flashed a teasing smile. "If you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known."

"Oh," her eyes danced with amusement, "…so, it's wisdom you seek?"

"Kind of, but not exactly," his gaze drifted back to the water, and his expression grew serious and circumspect. "It's more like, umm…I'm wondering about the course of my future. How my life's events will play out." He waved a hand across the rambling water, "I thought I'd give Pooh's philosophy a try, and see what the river foretells."

She leaned over the railing hoping to glean an understanding of him. He pointed toward the middle of the stream just a few feet beyond. She watched the river gently trip and flow along the stone covered bed. It shimmered and sparkled, catching the sun, reflecting the brilliance back. Peace was her unbidden thought, as her eyes followed the water's course further still. She watched the rippled calm of the surface wind around a bend, slow down, speed up and curve back again.

She glanced back at him and studied his face, perplexed by his unyielding interest. He merely blushed a soft smile, pointed straight ahead, and whispered his command, "Watch."

She returned to her careful observation displaying a rapt seriousness commensurate with his own. The water's current suddenly roughened and churned, as it rose to impact a huge boulder positioned in its path. The imposing rock lurched far above the current's surface in the middle of the stream. The water, unable to swerve off course, crashed upon the boulder, and veered up in a rolling wave, before dividing into two separate eddies. Seemingly wild and aimless, the two eddies continued on in an independent and separate course, winding round the boulder both left and right, skirting a sand dune, dropping over a rocky ledge into a cascading waterfall, before finally merging in the bubbling shallow pool below. Undeterred in its course, the stream continued on. Gentled and slowed, the independent eddies once again coalesced into a single flowing stream, drifting harmoniously as one, a united solitary being.

He stepped back, regarded her expression of dazed amazement, and awaited her response. She remained motionless and stunned, overcome by the simplicity of nature's answer to the mystery that had plagued them for years. Gently grasping her shoulders, he turned her away from the lesson found in a meandering stream, and begged an answer to the question of their future with the depths of his eyes.

"Mac?" his voice was hushed and pleading, as hope warred with fear.

When her eyes remained downward cast, he traced a finger over the angle of her chin, lifting her face to his view. Her eyes darted away, first left then right, before settling into his.

"Sarah," she shuddered at the utterance of her given name whispered like a prayer, "…before I can give the Admiral an answer about my desire to return to the Navy, I need to know what you want."

"Haaarm," his name was stuttered in nervous apprehension, "…I…why…" She trailed off as fear won out, and immediately sensed him withdrawing from her, both body and spirit.

"No!" She urgently clasped his arm stopping his retreat, "…this can't be just about me!"

"It's not," he fought to summon his courage, "…but before I can decide, I need to know, if you think…'you and I' will ever be 'we'?"

Eyes clenched tightly, she tried to transcribe the meaning of the Harmonesque cryptic words. Scrubbing his face in frustration, he wondered why eloquence always abandoned him when it came to her.

"Ah, let me try that again," he flashed a heartfelt, but disarming smile. "The answer to the question of 'us'," he wiggled a finger back and forth in the space between them, "…will affect my decision on how or whether we work together. Does that make sense?" he shrugged his shoulders to his ears with befuddled boyish charm.

"Okaaay," she drug the word out, then ducked her face in embarrassment and tried again.

"What if," her thumbs grazed his forearms in a soft soothing caressing, "…I could assure you, the Admiral will work it out, no matter what we decide?" She gazed into his eyes unwaveringly, trying to transmit the true intent of her words, both spoken and implied. Fleetingly, she wondered when they both became such cowards.

"Okay," he nodded, surmising a quarter step forward, zero back was a tiny bit of progress, "…but that still doesn't tell me what you want."

She withered in hopelessness under the interminable stalemate that defined their dance. Neither one was brave enough to state their intentions first…two step forward, one step back. His fingers trailed up the length of her arms, drawing her in closer, lending strength and support.

"Mac, you uttered the one word that proclaimed an end to us…to any hope of what we could be. I need to know, if you still believe…"

She pulled away from him, tears cascading down her cheeks. "I already told you… I used to believe in forever . . . but forever was too good to be true. I only chose never because I thought forever didn't exist. And I couldn't live with the disappointment of 'not yet' anymore."

"What if," the words burst forth in a blazing rush, as the offer flowed easily from his tongue. This art of legal negotiation they both knew well. The images of a prior deal flitted through his mind.

"What if?" her eyes followed his, waiting for his terms, daring to hope.

"What if, I could promise you…forever and a day?" Arms crossed on his chest, he dared her to demur.

"I'll accept your forever and a day, and offer you…eternity," she countered with her best lawyer voice. He squinted an eye and gazed heavenward, considering her last option.

"Deal," he nodded in the affirmative, and confirmed it with a wink.

"Don't make a promise you can't keep." The corners of her mouth turned up in a teasing smile, but the seriousness of her voice betrayed her attempts at levity…just as it had all those years before. This time, there was no room for wiggling, backtracking or walking away.

"I haven't yet," he hitched a brow and flashed his cockiest grin, perfectly reconstructing the mood. His eyes however shone suspiciously bright, thoroughly giving him away.

Extending an open palm to mimic their former deal, he waited for her response. She shook her head at the absurdity of it all…sealing their 'forever deal' with a handshake. If anything deserved something more intimate and personal, surely the promise of 'forever' qualified. Nonetheless, she followed his lead and extended her palm.

He grasped her hand securely in his, the eternal spark burned bright. Gaze transfixed, eyes melted into eyes, and the love shone through. Stroking his thumb across the softness of her wrist, he lifted her hand to his lips. Her eyes never left his, surrendering to the magnitude of the emotion reflected there. He raised her hand aloft, and giving a gentle twirl, sent her dancing away. As her eyes widened in shock, he threw his head back and cackled with ecstatic glee. Spinning her once more around, he gathered her in close, snug in the circle of his arms. Agilely, he waltzed her along the uneven stones lining the narrow path, until they stepped unrestrained to the wide expanse of the grass.

He pulled her close, body-to-body, chest-to-chest, hearts perfectly aligned, and swayed them in the morning breeze to the soft serenade of fluttering leaves. Leaning in closer still, his breath tickled her ear. She nuzzled her face in the warm skin of his neck, and inhaled his wonderful scent. Water, air, strength, he smelled of all of these, but it was the love that was her favorite. She would forever remember the scent of this day. The everlasting fragrance of them, a love nearly abandoned and dead, now reborn for all time.

He spun her away from his body, and twirled her in the wind. She moved with grace and beauty, stealing his breath away. And when he finally found his words, they bubbled forth in joy.

"Twirl around Piglet," he laughed in the breeze.

"Step lightly Pooh," she giggled back, and willingly returned to his pull.

"This silly ol' dance is perfect for two," they both sang out the final phrase to the childhood verse. Together…in perfect unison.

His lips finally found hers in an all-consuming, exploring caress. Whispered 'I love you's' filled the autumn air, fluttering amongst the vibrant leaves, gaining breadth and beauty from their brilliant colors, before taking wing on the wind and spreading over the horizon.

As he pulled away for a gasping breath, a momentary thought skittered through his hapless mind…AJ Roberts was due a very special gift of thanks. A lazy afternoon in the park cavorting with his grateful godparents, perhaps, the idea sparked to life, then flitted away into depths of oblivion, as he lost himself in his Sarah once more.

The second thought to give birth, before his love-addled mind quit functioning all together, was that Winnie-the Pooh was a wonderful theme for a nursery. The image of a beautiful dancing baby girl, with rosy cheeks and laughing brown eyes, twirled to the forefront with Piglet and Pooh.

'Twirl around Piglet,

Step lightly Pooh,

This silly ol' dance is perfect for two.'

xxx

'If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you.' -- Winnie-the-Pooh.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed my indulgence in all things Pooh. I've had theses 'Poohisms' sitting in a folder on my computer for quite some time now. They've been 'bugging the bageebers outta me' to break loose, for a while. At one point, Pooh even threatened to send in the bees. I finally had to give-in and find a forum for their wizened-fun in my writing of Harm and Mac. Isn't it amazing how simple things from our childhood are actually quite profound? Who knew Winnie-the-Pooh, Christopher Robin and the rest of the gang at Pooh Corner were philosophers?

Anyways, surely I'm not the only one who thought the introduction to the first book in the Pooh series was very enlightening, in regards to the whole 'Harm and Mac' relationship 'thing'? Maybe if TPTB had spent a little time reading 'Winnie-the-Pooh', the 'dance' would've changed from the Foxtrot to the Tango a whole lot sooner. I reiterate the beginning excerpt to prove my point:

'Here is EDWARD BEAR, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin. It is, as far as he knows, the only way of coming downstairs, but sometimes he feels that there is another way, if only he could stop bumping for a moment and think of it.'

What do you say guys? To much 'bumping' of the wrong kind?????

Sorry this story was so tardy, but real life has been crazy and more than a bit unsettling of late. Exhaustion has been the order of the day more often than not. THANKS for reading!!!