Disclaimer: Don't own'em

A/N: Sequel to 'Conversations'! I wanted to finish before I posted. Longest story I've written so far. Some days I'm proud of it, some days I want to junk it. I think that's because I've been working on it for so long, and it's just time to get it off my hard drive and to you. Or so I hope; actually, I'm rather nervous.

Moving on.

In this story, I basically used what happened on the show during season five, from Boomerang onwards, to illustrate the advance in Harm and Mac's relationship. Don't expect any action here, and remember my primary interest is in Harm and Mac's interactions.

Initially, I thought that I'd keep the story in line with the main happenings on the show, with the exception that H&M would be seeing each other instead of Renee and Mic. I had great ideas and stuff for pretty much all the episodes, but geez it was such a huge project and my memory is really fuzzy (I don't own the DVDs). So I only selected a few episodes to do this with. Obviously, I added stuff that didn't happen in relation to the episodes, to thicken the plot. In an ideal world, there will be a 'trequel', for which I have ideas in my head using season six stuff. But this world isn't ideal, so I'm not making any promises.

As was done in Conversations, I am not going to write out what happened during the episodes, because you guys have seen them, so no need to be redundant. Instead, I'll put in a quick summary before each chapter, if you need it, and just add on stuff explaining things through H&M interactions/conversations/happenings post-episode. Of course, since Renee and Mic sometimes feature (prominently) in the actual episodes, you can use your imagination when it comes to this story, although to my mind what is different in this story is pretty evident. I don't think you need to remember these episodes to understand the story, at least, I hope you don't.

One thing I did do that is major, is that I took an event that in 'real time' happened in Season 6, over a year after Harm's return from flying, and made it happen about six months later instead, at end Season 5. You will probably know it when you see it.

If it's confusing, then I guess I should apologize in advance, but I have faith you guys will be just fine.

Finally, in 'Conversations', some of you complained the story was too slow paced, and nothing was really happening. You might feel the same way about this one, because I wanted to take the time to develop Harm and Mac's relationship. Be patient, is all. Life isn't always one drama after another, and we can learn a lot from the stuff in between.

--

--

Insights – Part 1

JAG HQ
Monday
1048 Local

Mac, Harm and Bud walked out of the admiral's office, and into the early morning bustle of the bullpen.

Bud turned to Harm and Mac as soon as they had cleared Tiner's desk.

"Excuse me, Ma'am, Sir. I have to tell Harriet that I'll be in Australia for the next few days."

The two senior officers nodded, and Mac watched Bud walk away, knowing that Harm was about to lay into her for her slip in the admiral's office. She'd sensed his reaction when she'd mentioned the emails Mic was sending her. In her defence, she really had forgotten about them until the admiral mentioned Mic and the case Harm and Bud were being sent to Australia for. It was the damn cold she was trying to fight off; it made everything fuzzy. She just wanted to get back into bed with a hot cup of tea and a warm Harm, not deal with having to face another separation from Harm when things between them were so new. Only a weekend old, in fact.

"Brumby has been emailing you." It was less a question, and more an accusation. He was watching her for her reaction; she could feel it even as her eyes remained fixed on Bud's retreating back.

She sighed, already tired and the day had just started. "You're going to overreact about this, aren't you?"

"He's trying to lure you." Harm stated.

"You are delusional." She protested, looking at him in disbelief. "He didn't even ask for me. He specifically asked for you and Bud."

"Exactly." Harm crossed his arms over his chest, as though that proved his very point. His sanctimonious declaration irritated her.

Any possible reply from her was interrupted by a sneeze.

"Just great." She muttered angrily, sniffing. "I'm stuck in this frozen swamp while you get to go where it's summer. And to add insult to injury, I'm coming down with some nasty bug." She sniffed slightly, and sneezed again. This was just too much. Mac huffed, and set a course for her office. She needed tissues and refuge.

Harm reached into his pocket to hand Mac is handkerchief, but she was already half way across the bullpen by the time he had it out. He watched as she shut her office door, slumped down into her chair, and reach for the pack of tissues in her desk drawer.

Harm wondered if he should go talk to her. He figured that the cold that was sneaking up on her was probably making her irritable – he couldn't remember the last time she'd been sick – but he wasn't sure if he should go into the lion's den now.

It might be wiser to wait.

A few seconds of deliberation decided the matter: he'd make her some camomile tea as a peace offering, and then go and talk some sense into her about Bugme. And he'd find her a chocolate bar. She loved chocolate.

Resolution made, Harm walked towards the kitchen, shaking his head as he went. How Mac could be so obtusely oblivious to Brumby's intent was beyond him. One thing was certain: he'd make damn sure when he went to Sydney for this assignment that Brumby would know to leave Mac the hell alone.

"Harmon Rabb, you are one hard man to find!" He heard the loud exclamation coming from the entrance to the bullpen, and cringed at the sight of Renée. What in god's name was she doing here?

She made her way towards him, weaving between the desks with an easy confidence that manifested itself in a complete disregard to the people around her.

"Hello, Commander," She offered him a slightly flirtatious smile, flashing perfect white teeth. "You haven't been returning my calls about attending the debut screening for my recruitment commercial. Can I change your mind?"

Harm was only too aware of the attention her presence and comments to him were attracting from his coworkers.

"Why don't we talk in my office?" He suggested, not waiting for an answer before steering her to his sanctum.

--

Mac blew her nose, and dumped another tissue into the garbage bin by her desk. This day was sucking more and more. First, to have let slip that Mic was emailing her in front of the admiral and Bud, not to mention Harm, like that ... She really had meant to tell Harm, or rather: she would've told him if she had thought it was in any way important. But she hadn't even given Mic a thought since her return from Germany. Besides, she'd had better things to do with Harm this past weekend... well, actually, he'd done such wonderful things to her ... better still, they'd done such wonderful things to each other ... Anyways – Mac shook herself out of the dreamy thoughts that had no business in her office – with all the wonderful stuff that'd happened this weekend, she hadn't even thought about Mic's stupid emails.

And if her slip wasn't enough, it turned out that Mic had requested Harm and Bud's presence, not hers. That was just plain embarrassing. She must have sounded like such an idiot in there, and in front of the admiral to boot. She was not impressed. And what the hell was Mic thinking. Either he thought her incompetent, or he was messing with her. Neither alternative was palatable, but if she were to guess, she'd say the second one was more likely. She was going to call him out on it when he sent his next email. Jerk. Big loser jerk.

The cold draft in Mac's office caused her to shiver. She buried her head in her hands. She didn't want to stay in this stupid, cold winter when she could be on a beach Down Under. It just wasn't fair.

And then Harm was being all unreasonable about the damn emails. Right now she was pissed at both of them, and piled on top of all that, she had the beginnings of a definite cold. And she and Harm had fought first thing in the morning, on her first day back at JAG. That did not bode well, especially not on the heels of their talk with the admiral before Bud had been summoned for the briefing on the assignment in Australia.

That talk with the admiral before Bud's arrival had been ... interesting.

He'd given them a very stern speech about propriety and professional behaviour. He'd also warned them about PDAs and not wanting to have to resort to sending chaperones with them to the copy room. Mac had almost choked on air at that comment. With Harm's rigid restraint and her implacable, hard-won discipline, she doubted they'd ever give the admiral reason to ream them a new one for blurring the line between work and pleasure.

Then again, Harm's restraint and her discipline were never quite as impervious as they ought to be when it came to the other. The little tryst in the admiral's guest room was evidence enough of that. God, what had they been thinking? It occurred to her that Harm was her greatest weakness. And maybe she was his greatest risk.

The realization worried her more than she would let herself admit. She shook her head and banished the rather terrifying thought: it had barely been a weekend, how could she even begin to doubt them? It was not constructive.

Mac sighed. One constructive thing she could do was talk to Harm and clear the air about Mic. He had no reason to worry, for god's sake. Mac couldn't even fathom comparing the two. It was a mystery how that stubborn flyboy's mind worked sometimes, that he'd react like this.

She stood up, a decisive clip to her step, and headed for Harm's office.

Mac knocked on his office door before letting herself in. Harm was sitting behind his desk, leaning back into his chair, chatting easily with a visitor, an amused half-smile on his face. He turned his head to look at her as she entered, and his sentence was left abruptly hanging.

She must be really out of it, Mac decided, if she hadn't even realized that he was in the middle of a meeting.

"Oh, I apologize. I didn't mean to interrupt." She said quickly. She moved to leave when, to her surprise, Harm shot up out of his chair.

His face took on the characteristic deer-in-headlights pose, which immediately put Mac on her guard. She took another look at Harm's visitor, and noted the potent artificiality of the undoubtedly beautiful woman seated across from him. Beyond the fur coat she was wearing, there was something about the excessive and obvious care taken to her clothing, hair and make-up that made the woman seem more like someone who belonged in a soap opera than in real life. Mac would bet good money, though, that under the false veneer, this woman – whoever she was – was a total stunner.

"Not at all." The woman addressed Mac in the tone of a person too used to being listened to, to bother with being heard. "I was just trying to convince this handsome sailor to come see the final edit of his performance," She informed Mac in a conspiratorial tone.

Mac looked to Harm for an introduction, and maybe a clue as to what was going on. The reluctance and apprehension in his demeanour was disconcerting.

"Mac, this is Renée Peterson, the director for the recruitment commercial. Renée, this is my partner, Lt Colonel Sarah MacKenzie."

"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Peterson" Mac replied on auto-pilot, busy trying to process the newly acquired information. This was the woman Harm had dinner with? Mac wondered how much of her clothing and carriage was just an act. If Harm had seen something in her, to invite her to dinner ... Although Mac couldn't help but note that in appearances at least, she and Renee seemed to be polar opposites.

"How do you do, Lieutenant." Renée Peterson replied, obviously not in the least interested in an answer.

"It's Colonel." Mac corrected, thinking it wasn't too uncommon an error for civilians to make. She was willing to give the woman the benefit of the doubt, difficult though it was.

"Right," Said Renee dismissively. She then cocked her head to the side and examined Mac carefully, her interest suddenly piqued.

"I didn't know the Navy also had green uniforms." This she directed at Harm before turning her attention back to Mac. "You know, I don't think that drab colour suits you. You should wear the blue one."

Mac's eyes widened, and she heard Harm emit a strangled cough. She threw him her most ferocious glare, knowing he was trying to hide his laughter. He quickly choked down his amusement.

"Wrong branch. I'm a Marine." Mac replied with a calm she didn't feel, all the while trying not to clench her jaw. Her goodwill had decisively catapulted itself out the window.

"That's too bad," Renée commiserated with a half-pout, her expert eye still scanning Mac. "I could've used you in a commercial. The camera would just love your cheekbones. With the right makeup of course, and a shorter skirt."

Mac pursed her lips and counted to ten in English, then Farsi, then Russian and then Japanese. Intellectually, she knew the woman wasn't intentionally needling her, but Mac had little respect for her type.

Meanwhile Renee, now seemingly bored with whatever diversion Mac may have presented, stood up to face Harm.

"Well, Harm, your name is on the guest list, so you must come. Here's my card. Call me." She reached over his desk, and slowly slipped her card into his breast pocket. She patted his chest, winked up at him, and then was on her way out of the office.

Mac looked at Harm, while Harm cleared his throat and looked anywhere but at her.

Their attention was called to Renée when she stopped at the door, and turned to face Mac. "I'll add a guest under Harm's name, so you can come as well, Corporal, and see your handsome partner," – she threw Harm a suggestive glance at this point – "In action."

"It's Colonel." Mac corrected, now just plain seething at the woman's blatant disregard for her, her uniform, the Marine Corps and the entire history of armed service in defence of one's country.

Renée flashed her perfect teeth at Mac, and then turned to Harm with a flirtatious lilt in her voice. "Bye, Harm."

And she was gone.

--

Harm glanced at Mac as Renée breezed out his door. He could feel the tension and anger emanating from Mac's tightly wound form. He tried to find a way to ease the strain that was laying siege to his office.

"It was nice of her to invite you." He offered tentatively, and immediately reconsidered the wisdom of saying anything. He doubted Mac's cold-induced irritation had dispelled, and he doubted further that being introduced to Renée had helped, let alone Renée's comments on blue uniforms and short skirts. He quickly bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the memory of Mac's face when Renée had let that one loose.

"I can't believe you had dinner with her." Her eyes followed Renée as she headed for the elevators.

"Mac." He warned. The last thing he needed was for her to transfer her anger at Renée's behaviour to him, and make a big deal of one ill-conceived dinner.

"She's wearing a fur coat, Harm." She kept watching Renée, and her anger transformed into a thoughtful expression.

The change in her demeanour caught him off guard. What was she thinking, he wondered.

He shrugged, and tried to justify himself and appease her. "Well, you can't judge—"

"You're vegetarian, Harm." She cut him off, finally turning to look at him.

"You eat meat." He replied immediately. Upset with her for making a big deal out of this. "That doesn't have me shunning you."

"There's a difference between eating meat for nourishment and wearing dead animals because it's a symbol of wealth and status." Her patience was wavering.

"Specious argument." He stated haughtily. "I'm vegetarian for lifestyle reasons."

"It is not a specious argument." She rebutted, arms firmly crossed in front of her. "And what do you mean lifestyle?"

"Healthy lifestyle." He raised an eyebrow, and mirrored her stance. "You wouldn't understand."

"I definitely don't understand you, that's for sure."

"Me?!" He scoffed. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Now she was getting defensive. And she was tapping her foot, which Harm knew from experience wasn't a good thing.

He reached into his repertoire, though not very far back, to this morning's meeting.

"One word, Mac: Brumby."

"Harm—" Her protest was immediate, her hands now on her hips.

"C'mon Mac." He interrupted. "Were you ever going to tell me! He's been emailing you!"

"I—"

"I can't believe you didn't tell me." He accused, still not quite able to process this news. It galled him no end. He couldn't emphasize just how much Bugme rubbed him the wrong way. And then here she was, making a big deal out of Renée. He snorted at the thought.

"You don't tell me about everyone you keep in touch via email." She countered, anger sparked in her eyes. "And I wouldn't expect you to."

"So you weren't going to tell me." He knew it. Now he was pissed off. She actually wasn't going to tell him.

"That is not what I said." The look on her face would have reduced a lesser man back into primordial soup.

They glared at each other, until a knock sounded on Harm's office door, and Bud's muffled voice filtered through.

"I have work to do." She turned on her heel, jerked his door open, and left his office, sailing by a confused Bud.

Harm watched her go, embers of anger still burning dully in his gut. Well, he thought: that went well.