******************************************

"And over our heads will float the Blue Bird

singing of beautiful and impossible things.

Of things that are lovely, and that never happen.

Of things that are not, and that should be."

The Decay of Living

Oscar Wilde

******************************************

Harm and Mac strolled slowly through the White House rose garden enjoying

the warm air and fragrant scents. "You're awfully quiet for someone who

was just awarded the Defense Distinguished Service Medal," she remarked,

gazing at his chest and admiring his new ribbon.

"I've got a lot on my mind." Harm looked down at his partner in her Blues.

'It should be illegal for anyone to look so good in a uniform,' he

thought.

Not wanting to disturb his thoughts, Mac remained silent for a few minutes.

They entered a familiar section of the garden and she suddenly laughed.

"What's so funny?" Harm asked.

"I was just remembering the first time we were here."

Harm looked around and realized they were standing in the exact spot where

they had first met.

"Deja vu again?" Mac asked.

Harm grinned at the remembrance of their first encounter. "You must have

thought I looked so stupid just standing there."

"No worse than I did with my hand stuck out like that."

"You remember what the admiral told us?"

Mac looked at the sky as she thought. "'Don't get too close; you're gonna

work together'?" she quoted.

Harm nodded. "So much for heeding that warning."

Mac looked at him quizzically--what did he mean?

Harm turned to face her. "Sarah, I didn't realize it at the time, but I

have loved you since the moment we met. At first, I thought it was just

the memory of Dianne, but as I got to know you, I realized it was you I

loved."

Mac's heart stopped. She didn't know what to think--what was Harm saying?

She realized where the conversation was going when he took a small jewelry

box from of his pocket.

Harm knelt and opened the box. Inside, a diamond in an antique setting

glittered against forest green velvet. "Sarah MacKenzie," he asked

solemnly, "will you marry me?"

Mac's hand shook as she reached out to touch the ring. Was this really

happening? A flood of emotions rushed over her--joy, fear, excitement,

trepidation...she knew that with her it had not been love at first sight,

but over the years she had known Harm she had grown to appreciate his

friendship. She admired him...then came the realization that, yes--she did

love him! Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she

whispered, "Yes! Yes, I will, Harmon Rabb!"

Harm sprang up with joy and pulled Sarah into his arms--his Sarah at last.

He stepped back, took her smaller hand in his, and slid the ring on her

finger. Harm brushed the wetness off her cheeks and kissed her softly.

Mac slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Harm grinned roguishly, "Does this mean I finally get to see that tattoo

of yours?"

Mac grinned back. "You are such a fly-boy!"

"Well, you know what they say about dress whites and gold wings..."

"Yeah. Is that what you're planning on wearing to the wedding?"

Harm just shook his head. Life with a Marine would not be easy, but he

wouldn't trade it for the world.

******************************************

"May we have a word with you, sir?"

"Certainly. Come in, Commander, Major," Admiral Chegwidden summoned them

into his office. "What can I do for you?"

They stood before his desk looking rather like scared children about to ask

a favor from a strict parent. "Sir, Major MacKenzie and I would like to

request two days of leave to go to Belleville," Harm explained.

"You both have several days on the books, and you usually spend your leave

there, anyway. Why make such a formal request this time?" Chegwidden hid

a smile behind his rough tone. He could guess the reason they wanted to

visit Harm's grandmother from the way Rabb and MacKenzie had been looking

at each other all week.

"Well, sir, this time is special. We're gathering our families there

to..." Harm took Mac's hand. "...announce our engagement." They looked

expectantly to the Admiral for his response. What he said surprised them

both.

"It's about time!" he exclaimed, allowing his smile to show. "I was

wondering when you'd get him to ask you, Major. Congratulations."

******************************************

Harm smiled broadly as the farm came into view. Over time, his joy in

coming home had come to be associated as much with thoughts of Mac as of

Gram. He knew that growing up, going home had been an unpleasant

experience for Mac; that's why he was so pleased to bring his bride-to-be

to a house so hallowed by love.

He remembered her happiness when she discovered that all of Gram's repeat

houseguests had their own afghan, used only when they visited. Mac's was

crocheted in squares of white, embellished with green leaves and raised red

roses; resting in a box marked 'Sarah's afghan,' next to 'Trish's afghan,'

in the upstairs linen closet.

Then there was the time Gram asked her to get something from the attic and

Harm had found her there an hour later, delightedly examining Gram's old

dollhouse. Gram made him carry the thing down to the living room, and

their next several visits had been spent restoring it.

"Look Harm! I can see the house!" Mac exclaimed over the noise of the

plane, like child on Christmas morning.

******

Gram looked up from the kitchen as the sound of an approaching plane

reached her ears. A glance out the window confirmed that it was indeed her

grandson's familiar yellow Steerman. Few things had given Sarah Rabb

greater joy than the phone call from her grandson, saying that he and Sarah

MacKenzie were to be married. She'd regarded the younger woman as a

granddaughter since the first time Harm had brought her home with him, and

now there truly would be another 'Sarah Rabb' in the family. Gram left her

dinner preparations and went out to welcome her grandchildren home.

******

Harm walked down the upstairs hall, freshly showered and dressed for the

party. He paused in an open doorway to admire his partner, wearing a

breezy white summer blouse and a floral print skirt. He noticed that she

was frowning at her reflection as she fussed with her hair. Finally, with

a soft laugh, he said, "Mac, relax -- you look beautiful." Harm slipped

his arm around her waist and gave her a reassuring hug.

"Thanks," she smiled up at him. "I guess I'm just nervous. I want

everything to be perfect for you."

"Everything's already perfect." He kissed her cheek in affirmation of his

words.

"Do you think your mom will like me?"

"She's gonna love you, just like I do."

Just then they heard Gram's voice calling, "Sarah, dear, there's someone

here to see you!"

They descended the steps hand-in-hand to find Matt O'Hara chatting amiably

with his hostess. He looked up at the sound of their footsteps. "Sarah!"

He turned with a warm smile and open arms for his niece.

"Uncle Matt!" Mac practically ran down the last few steps to her uncle's

arms. He hugged her tightly, then caught hold of her left hand to admire

her ring. "I thought something like this was in the wind," he said with

great satisfaction.

"We wanted to surprise you, sir," Harm explained, somewhat sheepishly.

"Young man, I saw this coming from the first time I met you." Matt thought

a moment, and, remembering that the first time he had seen the commander,

Mac had a gun to his back, amended, "Well, maybe not quite the first time I

met you." He grinned and extended his free hand to Harm. "You've made my

niece very happy, and that makes me very happy."

"That's a relief," Harm laughed. "I'd hate to have a couple of Marines

mad at me!"

Another burst of friendly laughter was interrupted by a knock on the screen

door. "Trish, welcome!" Gram stepped forward to embrace her

daughter-in-law, followed closely by Harm.

"I missed you, Mom." He looked around curiously. "Where's Harrison?"

"Business, I'm afraid."

Harm frowned momentarily, but swallowed his comments; he didn't want

anything to spoil the day for Mac.

Trish smiled proudly at her tall son. "Now, what's your important news?"

"Did you get a short, cryptic message too?" Matt asked with a laugh.

As Gram made the introductions, Harm took Mac's hand and drew her to his

side. "Mom, this is my partner, Sarah MacKenzie."

"It's wonderful to finally meet you, Sarah. Harm talks about you all the

time."

"Thank you, it's lovely to meet you, too!"

Trish looked from Mac's radiant face to Harm's smug grin in exasperation.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on here?"

"Well, Mom, I asked Gram to invite you and Colonel O'Hara here today so

that we could tell you something very special. I asked Sarah if she would

do me the very great honor of becoming my wife, and she said yes!" Harm's

voice was bursting with pride by that point.

"Oh, Harm!" Trish reached up to kiss him, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Then she smiled at Mac, a lovely 'mother' smile that made Mac's heart

ache; her own mother had never smiled at her like that. Trish seemed to

sense this, and drew Mac into a close embrace. "I'm so happy for you, my

dear."

******

"Sarah, I assume you'd like to slice the tomatoes?" Gram asked Mac when

they stood alone in the kitchen.

Mac laughed and took the knife Gram offered her. Her ring shot sparks of

light through the room.

Gram's face took on a faraway look. "When Harm called and told me he

wanted to ask you to marry him, I was just thrilled. You two are so

perfect for each other." Gram smiled fondly at her future granddaughter.

"You know, you remind me of myself when I was younger. Strong,

ambitious...beautiful," Gram added teasingly. She took Mac's left hand and

studied the new piece of jewelry. "Harm's granddad gave me that ring," she

commented softly.

Mac looked up in surprise. Her fiancé hadn't mentioned anything about

this.

"I offered him the ring when he called. I wanted to pass it on to my

daughter, but I never had one. Trish and Harm, Sr. refused to take it.

Harm, Jr. was about to do the same, but I told him I would be honored to

have you wear it."

Mac's eyes brimmed with tears. She had never possessed a family heirloom

before. "I'm the one that's honored. I can't tell you how much this means

to me..."

"You don't need to, dear," Gram said, pulling Mac into a tight embrace. "I

can see it in your eyes."

******

Harm was setting the table for dinner when Mac entered the dining room

carrying a pie, which she placed on the sideboard to cool. "Who made

that?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'm not telling!" she answered gaily.

"Oh no!" he groaned. "The last time you made a pie, I got sick!"

"That's because you ate three pieces, Harm," Gram told him. She set a vase

full of red and white roses in the center of the table.

"How pretty!" Mac exclaimed.

Gram nodded as she adjusted a few blooms. "And so appropriate to the

occasion."

"What do you mean?" Harm asked curiously.

"Flowers have a language of their own, Harm. The red roses stand for love,

and for courage, making them very appropriate for the two of you. The

white roses stand for sincerity. But when you put red and white roses

together, that stands for unity. In this case, the unity of your two

hearts, and the unity of our family."

"That's lovely, Gram. Thank you," Harm said, drawing two of his favorite

people in the world into his arms. He saw that Mac's eyes threatened to

overflow again. "Mac, if you keep this up, you're gonna be the soggiest

Marine in the Corps!"

"Don't you pay any attention, dear. You're not soggy," Gram said,

swatting at Harm's arm, "you're starry-eyed. All brides are starry-eyed.

Everyone knows that, Harm," she said pointedly.

He just laughed again and held them both a little tighter.

******

After dinner, Harm and Matt sat outside on the porch - where they had been

banished at the first mention of cigars. After puffing away contentedly for

a few moments, Matt glanced fondly at what was, to him, the most beautiful

sight in the world: Gram and Trish were sitting, one on either side of

Mac, showing her Gram's wedding album. He looked back at Harm. "You know,

son, you've managed to give Sarah the one thing I always wanted to, but

could never quite manage. She's found a home here, and people who love

her. Thank you."

Before Harm could reply, Mac stepped out onto the porch and came to stand

between them. "Uncle Matt? There's something I wanted to ask you."

"Anything, Sarah."

She glanced briefly at Harm, who nodded his support. "Uncle Matt, would

you give me away at my wedding?"

The veteran Marine grew misty-eyed as he answered, "Sarah, I think that's

the greatest honor anyone has ever bestowed on me. I'd be delighted."

******

Later still, after everyone else had retired for the night, Harm and Mac

sat together on the porch swing gazing at the stars. Harm remembered the

first time he'd brought her here - how they'd seen a shooting star, and

he'd wished for her to return with him for Christmas. That wish had come

true, and now another wish was coming true. "Are you happy, Sarah?" Harm

finally asked.

"I've never been so happy in my life. I'm so happy, it almost frightens

me, a little."

Harm tightened his arms around her before he replied. "That's to be

expected, you know. But the thing you have to remember is this; it's not

just me you're getting, it's Gram and Mom, too. I don't think there's

anything that that much love can't fix."

"I think you're right." She smiled at him with utmost love and confidence

shining in her eyes.

******************************************

The sun had just risen and the park was still misty from the pre-dawn fog.

"A left, right, left...A lefty, righty, left..." The cadence echoed through

Mac's head as she jogged along her favorite running trail. The birds were

beginning to sing and the flowers yawned as they stretched their petals.

Mac laughed at the antics of a bright-eyed squirrel.

Inspired by the beauty and peacefulness of her surroundings, Mac began to

call a jody out loud. A flock of overhead birds echoed the rhythm.

Seeing a tall man in a Navy shirt coming her way, Mac playfully began

another cadence. "He-e-ey, Na-a-vy!...Where are you going?...Jump on your

ships and follow me...I am Marine Corps, can't you--Harm!!!" The

recognition of her fiancé caused Mac to cut short her song. "What are you

doing here?"

"Same thing you are, I suspect. Couldn't sleep?" he asked, falling into

step with her.

"No, you?"

"Nope. Having second thoughts?" When Mac didn't answer after several

moments, Harm began to worry. "Uhhh...Mac? You're not having second

thoughts, are you?"

She turned her head sharply when Harm's voice jolted her out of her deep

introspection. "No, not exactly...well..."

"Out with it, Mac," Harm ordered kindly.

"It's just...I..." She searched for the words. "All night long, I

couldn't stop thinking about my parents...about how their marriage ended,

and Harm, I'm...I'm afraid it will happen to us!" She hurried on before he

could interject a comment. "You're my best friend, Harm, and I don't want

our marriage to ruin that." Mac's face tightened at an onslaught of

memories. "You're not just marrying me," she warned, "you're marrying my

past. It's not always going to be easy to deal with. I won't blame you if

you want to back out."

When she fell silent, Harm stopped, and placed his hands on her shoulders.

He steadily kept her gaze. "Mac, listen to me. I love you. I'm not

talking about...about a physical attraction kind of love, I'm talking about

a commitment. I promise I will never hurt you, I will never leave you, and

I will never stop loving you."

Mac bit her lip and nodded, her eyes welling up. Harm hugged her tightly.

"Thank you, Harm...I love you!" Mac pulled back and looked up into her

future husband's eyes - her future husband and her best friend. "I trust

you...I haven't trusted anyone in a really long time. I didn't think I

needed anyone; I'm a Marine, and Marines can take care of themselves.

But...I feel safe with you, and I know you'll keep your promise." She

looked at the ground, then met Harm's gaze again. "You know it isn't easy

for me to express my feelings, but I want you to know, I will always love

you, too. And I return your promise – I'm not gonna leave." She wrapped

her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest.

"Hey, 'til death do we part, right, Marine?"

"Right. Semper fi, Harm." He knew that was the greatest promise she could

make.

Several minutes later, Mac pulled away and jogged ahead. "Come on! Only

seven hours, thirty-eight minutes 'til the wedding!"

"Well, we better hurry then, so you can get ready." He made an exaggerated

show of looking her up and down. "I mean, you are planning on wearing a

dress today, aren't you?"

"Very funny."

"I'm a funny guy. C'mon, I'll race you!"

"Absolutely not!! We are not spending today in the ER!" The couple laughed

together as they double-timed down the trail.

******************************************

Mac stood in the entry hall of the Naval Academy chapel, the vision of a

perfect bride. The hem of her ivory gown swept the floor as she turned to

her flower girl, Janie's niece Virginia. Mac bent down and carefully

pulled two roses, one ivory and one white, from her bouquet. She handed

them to Virginia and whispered, "I hope these bring you as much luck as

your roses brought me!"

Harriet, the maid of honor, in a sky blue silk dress, and Bud, the best

man, joined arms and followed Virginia down the aisle. Mac laughed

silently at this, her latest attempt to get Bud and Harriet together. She

remembered her first scheme at the NATO ball with a smile.

When the opening strains of Pachelbel's "Canon in D" floated through the

doors at the back of the chapel, Mac took her Uncle Matt's arm. The

bracelet he had given her when she graduated law school sparkled on her

slender wrist. He smiled reassuringly at her to calm her butterflies. An

usher opened the door and they started down the aisle.

Mac surveyed the church through her short, filmy veil. There on the

MacKenzie side was her cousin Janie with a sly "I told you so" grin on her

face.

There was her horrid Aunt Harriet. Mac could just hear the comments she'd

make at the reception about how maybe now Mac would settle down and give up

her crazy notion of being a soldier.

Two places on the front aisle were sadly vacant. Mac's parents had refused

to come when they heard the other would be there. Mac wouldn't let her

parents' difficulties spoil the happiest day of her life. She would soon

be part of another family--a family that loved her and welcomed her with

open arms.

She looked to the Rabb side. There was Gram, her shining eyes twinkling

with the thought of all the fun she would have telling Mac the family

secrets. There was Trish, smiling proudly at her future daughter.

And there was Harm--Mac's heart leapt at the sight of her fiancé,

resplendent in his dress whites. There were the much-lauded gold wings

pinned above the bright rows of ribbons. Mac was only beginning to

understand how much more Harm valued her than all those awards and medals

put together.

Chaplain Castle asked who gave the bride to be married.

"I do." Colonel O'Hara's voice was husky with emotion. He was amazed at

how the depressed girl he once took to Red Rock Mesa had transformed into

the radiant woman standing beside him. Matt squeezed her hand and

whispered, "Semper fi, Sarah," then took his seat in the front pew.

A lump rose in Mac's throat at her uncle's "Semper fi." How thankful she

was that he had always been there for her, and that he was here to share

this day with her.

******

Admiral Chegwidden rose from his seat and proceeded to the lectern. His

usual stern comportment was replaced today by a gentle, almost fatherly

demeanor. He didn't even comment when the sudden loud squeaking of Bud's

shoe, which caused him to flush bright red, and little Virginia to giggle,

broke the stillness.

A shaft of soft blue light streamed through the rose window illuminating

the pages of the Bible in front of the admiral. His normally gruff voice

softened as he read the ancient words, written to the Corinthians years

ago, yet still so appropriate today. "'Love is patient, love is kind, and

is not jealous; love does not brag, and is not arrogant, does not act

unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into

account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices

with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things,

endures all things. Love never fails.'"

Everyone present felt the truth of those words, but none more so than Sarah

MacKenzie as she gazed into the eyes of her fiancé. She knew he would be

all those things to her, and she would do her best to reciprocate.

The admiral looked up and addressed his officers. "This is the kind of

love I see between you two--a love that will protect, will heal, and will

never fail. It will take work and commitment to sustain, but I know you

are two of the most committed people I've met--in everything you do. In

fact, one of you will probably end up behind my desk some day!" Quiet

laughter ran through the chapel. Chegwidden continued, "I'm honored to be

a witness to this marriage, because I know it will last."

******

As Harm and Mac stepped out of the chapel to see Marines lining the walk

with swords held high, he whispered, "So...are you happy?"

"No..." she responded slowly.

Panic gripped Harm. Was Mac having second thoughts? She had what she said

every woman wanted--a great career, a good man...

Mac grinned at the look on her husband's face as she continued, "...these

shoes are killing me!"

Relief washed over Harm. He tightened his grip on his wife's arm, and they

proceeded through the canopy of sabres.

******************************************

Suddenly, the scene around him changed. One moment Harm was stepping

toward his car, Sarah's hand clasped tightly in his, the next, he was

alone, in a strange place. It was neither warm nor cold, and the light was

diffused and opalescent. Strangely enough, he felt no fear or

apprehension, just an overall sense of peace.

"Hello, Harm," said a voice from behind him.

Harm spun in confusion; he'd have sworn he was alone. He studied the

speaker carefully. Although he had never met him, Harm knew the man

standing before him, dressed in flight gear dating back to the forties;

there were certainly enough photographs of him in Gram's house. "Hello,

Granddad," Harm said finally. He remembered then why he'd never met this

man before. "Am I... am I dead?'' he asked slowly.

"No, son." The older man smiled at him fondly. "Not yet. But you're very

close, closer than you've ever been. You were shot, saving the President

from an assassin."

"Shot?" He didn't remember being shot. He remembered walking out of the

church with Mac, they had just been married... no, that somehow didn't seem

quite right, either. "I don't understand."

"That doesn't surprise me, Harm. You see, God has given you a gift. He's

allowed you a glimpse of the future, or I should say, the future as it

might be, if you go on living. You have to decide now if you'd like to come

with me or if you'd like to continue your life. I won't kid you, you've

been very badly hurt. It will be a long, painful time before you're fully

recovered. There's still work for you to do on Earth, but God will allow

you to come home with Him if you choose, where there will be no more pain."

"God? Why would He want me with Him?"

"Do you remember what you said, after you were shot?"

Harm shook his head. He didn't remember anything.

A scene played before him. He saw himself and Mac standing in a crowd.

The president came closer, surrounded by Secret Service agents. The sun

glinted off a gun barrel, and Harm watched himself jump in front of the

President. The assassin's bullet ripped into Harm's chest and he fell to

the ground. He felt no pain, but was filled with an overwhelming sense

that he was not alone. "God!" Harm whispered. "I was wrong. You are

real! Forgive me..."

The images stopped. Granddad told him, "You cried out to God, and He heard

you. He's given you this choice--to serve Him on Earth, or be with Him in

Heaven."

Harm simply stared. This sounded like something out of the "Twilight

Zone," yet he sensed no duplicity from this man. In fact, his heart told

him with infinite certainty that what he was hearing was the truth. "Why

are you here?" he asked curiously.

"I'm here to help you make your choice. I was chosen for the task because

I love you, and because you love me, even though we've never met until now.

Love is one of the strongest ties in the universe, you know. Love among

family, whether by blood or by, well, I guess 'experience' is the word I'm

looking for."

A sudden thought struck Harm, "Why am I talking to you, and not my dad?"

Harm's grandfather was silent a moment before answering. "I had a

conversation much like this one with him. I can't tell you what he

decided, but I can say I think he made the right choice."

"Will I ever know?" Harm's heartache over the unanswered question was

clearly written on his face.

"Yes." Granddad smiled. "I know it's not always easy to find in

Washington, son, but keep looking for the truth--when you do find it, it

will set you free."

Harm struggled to comprehend what he was being told. "You said I had to

make a choice. Do you mean I have to choose whether to live or die?"

"Not quite, Harm. You're choosing between one life or another. It will be

much easier for you to choose eternal life now, instead of some sixty-odd

years down the road. But there are reasons for you to hang on, to fight

for your life on Earth. There are people who love you, even if some of

them haven't realized it yet. That lovely young lady of yours comes to

mind. They didn't make Marines like that in my day!" He grinned suddenly,

and for Harm, it was like looking into a mirror. "Would you like to see

what's going on?" he asked gently.

"Yes. I think I need to," Harm replied.

In the blink of an eye, they were walking down a harshly lit hospital

corridor. Harm looked around, amazed that no one seemed to notice or hear

them.

They paused outside the door of a small room in ICU. Bud Roberts was

seated on a small couch, with Harriet cradled in his arms, fast asleep.

Admiral Chegwidden had just straightened up from draping his uniform jacket

over her, when the sound of fast approaching footsteps caught his

attention. It was Harm's mother, her face pale and frightened, accompanied

by his stepfather, Harrison, in one of his twelve hundred-dollar suits.

Harm was looking around for Mac, and missed the admiral's first words to

his mother. "...Major MacKenzie's in with him now. I'll just be a

moment."

Harm followed the admiral into the room. Nothing could have prepared him

for the shock of what he saw: himself on a hospital bed, barely

recognizable under all the equipment attached to him. Mac was seated at

his side, clutching his hand. She was speaking to him, her voice a

strained whisper choked with unshed tears. "...I never meant to hurt you.

Please, please don't leave me."

He realized abruptly what she was talking about. "Mac, don't worry about

that, it's over--"

"I'm sorry, son, she can't hear you," his grandfather told him.

In the meantime, the admiral had placed his arm around Mac's shoulders and

was helping her to stand. "Come on, Major. Harm's mother is here. Let

her sit with him for a while," he said soothingly.

As she stood, Harm realized that her uniform was stained with blood. "Is

she hurt?" he asked his grandfather accusingly.

"No, Harm, that's your blood. She applied pressure to the wounds after you

were shot. If it wasn't for her, we probably would have been having this

conversation several hours earlier. She's quite a lady. She reminds me a

bit of my Sarah."

"Her name is Sarah, just like Gram."

"I know. I've been watching you for a long time."

"If I die," Harm asked slowly, "what will happen to her?" His mind spun

with thoughts of a despairing Mac returning to alcoholism, or worse.

"I have no way of knowing," was the grave answer he received.

Harm drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders, his decision irrevocably

made. "Then I need to go back." At once reality started to shift around

him. Harm heard a fleeting echo of his Grandfather's voice. "Always

remember that I love you, and that I'm so very, very proud of you, Harmon."

"I love you, too, Granddad. It won't be long before I'm back..."

"Tell my Sarah I love her..."

Then he was gone.

******************************************

Harm opened his eyes slowly, blinking in the harsh light of the hospital

room. Gradually, the blur around him began to coalesce into recognizable

images. Someone was holding his right hand, and a voice - his

grandmother's? - was whispering the twenty-third Psalm. "...yea, though I

walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for

Thou art with me. Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me..." He felt a

presence to his left, and tried to turn his head, but it was too much

effort. Whatever slight motion he had made was enough to attract the

attention of the one who watched over him so vigilantly. A familiar,

beautiful face swam into focus–his Sarah.

"Harm? It's Mac, can you hear me?"

He heard the hope rising in her voice, and something else, perhaps a hint

of the future that his grandfather had shown him. Harm noticed a single

tear sparkling on her cheek. He reached out his hand, wanting to brush it

away, but his arm didn't seem to work quite right. She guessed what he

intended and caught his hand, cradling it against her face. "Don't cry,"

he rasped, an echo of that terrible day when she had walked away from him,

"don't want to give the Corps a bad reputation..."

She laughed then, as more tears fell from her luminous eyes. They vaguely

heard his mother calling to the others that he was awake.

Despite her tears, Mac's smile was radiant. "Oh, Harm, we were so afraid

we'd lost you," she whispered.

"I know." He paused, still trying to focus, "I couldn't leave you, Sarah.

I -" The rest of his words were lost in the happy commotion that ensued as

his mother, Bud, Harriet, and the admiral all crowded into the tiny room.

******************************************

The first day the doctors allowed Harm out of bed was beautiful and sunny.

Mac wheeled him into the hospital garden for some fresh air. He marveled

at how vivid everything seemed; the colors of the flowers had never been

so bright, nor the sound of birdsong quite so clear.

Mac chattered on, bringing him up to date on all the office news, finishing

up with the news of his nomination for the Defense Distinguished Service

Medal. "The President is talking about presenting it himself!" she said

brightly. "You might just earn another trip to the rose garden. Speaking

of which, those are lovely, let's sit over there." She wheeled him over to

a bench surrounded by profuse blooms of red and white roses.

Her words slowly sank in. A medal from the President? In the rose garden?

Mac was so deep in her own thoughts that she failed to notice his

distraction. She seated herself on the bench, then reached out to clasp

his hands. "Harm, when you first woke up, you started to tell me

something, then everyone else came in and things got a little crazy. What

did you want to say? It seemed important."

Harm looked down at their intertwined hands, reveling in their warmth and

solidity. "I almost died," he said slowly, debating how much he wanted to

tell her. "I saw my Granddad. He told me I had to make a choice. It

would have been so easy to go with him, but then he showed me everything

I'd be leaving behind, my family, my friends... and you. That's when I

knew I had to come back - I couldn't leave you." 'Because I love you,' he

finished silently. He thought he saw the same sentiment mirrored in her

eyes, but neither said the words aloud, just then. That was all right;

they had all the time in the world. They had forever.