Celia's speil: Amazing what we can accomplish in three hours,
Nicole. Haha.
Hope this lightens your day...just don't complain you're tired.
This was
your idea. <G> "I wouldn't want to be me if I didn't
have you." This is
for Spanky; I'm so proud of you, kiddo. Now go conduct the Trans-Siberian
Orchestra; just don't hurt yourself! Also, thanks to Natalie
for letting me
turn her into a hooker. Love ya! :)
Nicole's schtuff: Wow, how long has it been since I've kept you
up until 1
am? <grin> I'm not sorry. This is a fantasic little
glimpse into the
universe we're creating, and I thoroughly enjoyed writing it.
I can't wait
until we start WW7!
"Back to the ways of Christopher Robin....back to the days of Pooh."
--
"Return To Pooh Corner", Kenny Loggins
-----------------------------
"February 14
Alexandra Grace and Michaela Madison:
I sit next to your bassinettes, once again amazed you're even here.
My two
little miracles, sleeping soundly amidst another loud game of Nintendo
between your father and sister. To be honest, I'm not quite sure
why I'm
writing this letter; perhaps it's to capture the joy of simply watching
you.
Now I understand why your father does this to me...there's something
so
serene yet exhilerating about simply watching a tableau unfold.
Listen to me. In my old age, I've gotten sappy.
But it's not really sappy; it's a blessing. I knew seven years
ago that I
was put on this earth to be a mother (preferably to your father's children,
but I digress.) It's been quite a ride since then, with your
sister, and
that longing to capture that joy again, and always falling millimeters
short
of my goal.
I think I've figured out why I'm writing this to you, even if you're
only two
months old. Never forget you are my miracles, and that no matter
what you
do, I will always love you, and consider you as such.
It looks like Alex is hungry *again*, so I'll leave you now with these
parting thoughts: The Mackenzie genes are much more dominant
in you. At
least, that's what I'm praying for.
Love,
Mom"
Harm shot a grin at Shannon. "I'm pausing it," he said warningly.
"And if
you unpause it and I die, I'm going to come out here and tickle you
until you
pee." He stood, stretching sleepy muscles, and wandered into
the bedroom.
"Need any help?" he asked softly.
Mac set her notebook and pen down on the nightstand and shook her head
as she
rose to get her fussy infant. "I think I'm good," she said quietly,
trying
not to wake Kayla. "How badly is Shannon beating you?" she couldn't
resist
asking.
"Only by about two lives and 16 gazillion points," Harm chuckled.
He sat
down next to Mac on the bed and watched adoringly as she prepared to
feed
Alexandra. "When's Shan gonna be old enough for me to teach her
to fly?" he
asked, not for the first time that week.
Mac just shook her head and unclasped her nursing bra, guiding Alex's
head to
help her nurse. "Two days before she's inagurated as the first
woman
president, flyboy, and that's final."
"Aw, come on, Mac. How about her next birthday?" Harm fell
silent almost
immediately as Alexandra started to suck. "God, she's beautiful,"
he said,
reaching out to stroke her downy head. "She looks just like you."
"Well, since Shannon is the spitting image of her father, that's a relief,"
Mac replied, smiling at him.
"Hey, don't insult me like that!" a raspy alto hissed as Shannon entered
the
room. "Do you want me to bring a bottle for Michaela?" she whispered
to her
mother, already very familiar with the routine.
Mac shook her head. "I think Kayla might just sit this one out.
What are
you and Dad playing?"
Shannon sat at the foot of her parents' bed and shrugged. "Mario
World, what
else?"
Mac shrugged. "Of course."
"Yeah, of course," Harm teased, reaching out and pulling Shannon up
in
between himself and Mac. He hugged her tightly. "Shannon
knows I'd whoop
her six if she tried playing 'F-14 Commando' with me."
Shannon simply rolled her big blue eyes and flopped back on the bed.
"Can
Mackenzie sleep over this weekend?"
Mac looked at Harm. "I don't see why not, we'll just have to ask
Aunt
Harriet."
Harm smiled broadly as he took in the scene before him. His beautiful
wife,
nursing their daughter, her sister asleep in the cradle next to the
bed.
Their oldest girl, his little "Princess", curled up backwards against
his
chest--*just like her mother,* he thought with a grin. "Hey,
Shannon," he
said softly, "let's leave Mom alone. I want to finish that game."
Shannon gently nudged her mother, trying not to disturb her baby sister.
"He's staring at me again, Mom!"
Mac laughed outright, disturbing Alex, whose face promptly contorted
with her
unhappiness. "Oh, for crying out loud, Alexandra, I'm right here,
look."
Mac said with a smile, guiding her daughter back to her dinner.
Shannon leaned over and gave her mother an impulsive kiss, widening
Mac's
smile. Her eldest daughter was one of few declarations of her
feelings, very
much like her father. "Shannon, after you beat your father at
your game, you
need to go have a shower and start getting ready for bed, okay?"
Shannon hopped off the bed and headed back into the family room.
"Yes,
ma'am. Come on, Dad!"
Leaning over and kissing Mac gently, Harm dropped a kiss onto Alex's
head.
He followed Shannon into the living room, settling back down to the
game.
From her bed, Michaela gave a little squeak. She waved her tiny
fists in the
air, searching for her thumb.
Mac eased up off the bed, carefully juggling Alex as she headed over
to the
true miracle of her new duo. Obviously, she didn't have a favorite
child,
but Kayla would always hold a very special place in her heart, given
the
circumstances surrounding her birth. Mac slid a pacifier in Michaela's
mouth
and settled Alex back in her bed, as the little girl had fallen asleep
while
nursing. *Another one like her father; notorious for falling
asleep directly
after the good part.* Mac couldn't resist grinning at that evil
thought.
Kayla opened her brown eyes and stared up at Mac. As her mouth
opened in a
sucking motion, the little Pooh pacifier fell out. "Eh?" she
whimpered.
"Hush, Kaylie," Mac soothed, rubbing the baby's stomach. She straightened
both girls' blankets and looked out her bedroom window. A lone
light shone
in the house next door, bringing a sense of sadness over her, and she
couldn't resist picking up Michaela and holding her close.
Kayla suckled her pacifier, snuggling close to her mother. She
sighed one of
those tiny baby sighs, the kind that come straight from the heart.
Harm came up behind Mac and murmured, "Hey," so as not to startle her.
He
slipped his arms around her, clasping his hands under Kayla.
"Whatcha
thinkin'?"
Mac simply raised her head, motioning to the house. "About Natalie,"
she
said softly, leaning against her husband.
"Oh." Harm kissed Mac's shoulder gently. "Every time I think
about her, I
just try to remember that if it weren't for her, we wouldn't have Kaylie."
He stroked his daughter's tiny arm, marvelling at the baby's soft skin.
"I know, I just..." Mac shook her head, caressing Michaela's head
with her
cheek. "I just can't shake this guilty feeling."
"Guilty?" Harm sounded confused. He stepped to one side, tilting
his head so
he could look into Mac's eyes. "Mac, she's the one who screwed
up. You know
that. We're just doing what's best for Kayla."
"I know, Harm," Mac said, deflated. "I just wanted Michaela to
have a
relationship with her natural mother. I wanted her upbringing
to be unlike
mine, for her to have a safe, loving environment...and even though
I know
we're giving that to her, I guess the idealist in me wanted her own
birth
mother to be able to provide that, and it breaks my heart to think
of Natalie
sitting in that detox center, probably missing her daughter."
Sighing, Harm shook his head. "I wanted Natalie to see Kayla every
bit as
much as you did, but she knew the deal. She had to stay clean,
and she
couldn't, even for a month." He paused as the light in the window
next door
flicked off and darkness enveloped the yard between the houses.
"When she
can get on the straight and narrow, she can see *our* daughter."
Harm
emphasized the word, reminding Mac that despite pending adoption papers,
they
had fed, clothed, comforted and loved this baby for almost three months.
She
was *their* daughter. "And Kayla's going to have everything you
didn't,
Mac," he promised. "Two loving parents, a stable home and good
memories."
Mac nodded, even as tears filled her eyes. "I know. I think
I'll call her
sponsor tomorrow and see how she's doing." She tipped her head
and saw that
Kayla was now sound asleep. She gingerly set the baby in her
cradle and
kissed her fingertips, lightly laying them on Kayla's forehead.
"Goodnight,
Angel Girl," she whispered. "Is Shannon in bed yet?" she asked
Harm as they
moved out into the hallway.
"Yeah, she's waiting for a kiss goodnight," Harm said, veering off into
the
kitchen. He started loading the dishwasher, trying to keep from
making too
much noise. It seemed the only time things got done anymore was
at night,
once the girls were asleep.
Mac walked down the hall to Shannon's room
and rapped lightly on
the door.
"Come on in, Mom." Shannon called softly. Mac opened the
door and saw her
daughter writing in her journal. Shannon quickly finished what
she was
writing and set the book on the nightstand, mimicking her mother's
actions
from earlier in the night. Removing her reading glasses, Shannon
snuggled
back against her pillows and looked at her mother. "Can I call
Aunt Shelby
tomorrow?"
Mac lowered the shades and shut Shannon's closet door, then turned and
looked
at her daughter curiously. "Why?"
"I have to do a project on a non-family member, and since everybody
already
knows about Uncle AJ and Aunt Harriet and everybody, I figured Shelby
was a
good idea."
Mac smiled at her daughter's pragmatic answer. "I don't see why
not,
although you might have to wait until about eight tomorrow night, given
the
time difference."
Shannon shrugged and yawned. "Okay, Mom."
Mac leaned over and kissed her daughter's forehead. "Goodnight, Bean."
Finishing the dishes, Harm slipped quietly into the bedroom. He
opened the
connecting door, to the little room off of the master suite.
Mac called it a
sealed-in porch, the babies called it home when their Mom and Dad wanted
a
night alone. Harm carefully rolled both bassinettes into the
other room,
shutting the door with an inaudible click. He met Mac on her
way out of
Shannon's room. "All done?"
Mac nodded, shutting Shannon's door. "Did you already say goodnight?"
"Yup," Harm affirmed. "The twins are tucked in to the Presidential
Suite,"
he grinned.
"Why, Harmon Rabb, methinks you're a tad," Mac dropped her voice to
a
conspiratorial whisper, "horny this evening."
Harm raised his hands in innocent surrender. "Have I bugged you
once since
the girls came home?" he asked with a roguish grin. "Haven't
I done diapers,
dishes, floors, windows?" he asked, sighing dramatically. "Don't
I deserve a
reward?" He pulled Mac close and kissed her neck.
Mac laughed softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Well,
I suppose you
have done your fair share around here the past couple of months."
"I try." Harm buried his nose in Mac's hair and inhaled deeply.
"You smell
like baby powder and milk," he teased, nibbling at her earlobe.
"Is that a request for a shower, flyboy?" Mac asked coyly, backing towards
the master bathroom.
"Well, now that you mention it..." Harm pushed the door open,
turning the
hot water on with his free hand, his other arm wrapped around Mac's
waist.
Mac laughed again, then captured Harm's mouth with her own, savoring
the
closeness. They hadn't been able to be intimate for six weeks
following
Alexandra's birth, and thanks to Michaela's arrival, thoughts of sex
had
flown right out the window with another child to take care of.
But none of that mattered now. Now it was just them returning
to one of the
things they did best: loving each other.
Harm couldn't help smiling against Mac's mouth. "I've missed this,"
he
murmured, stepping back and stripping quickly. He stepped into
the spray of
hot water and beckoned Mac to join him.
Mac disrobed as well, closing the shower door after her. "It's so nice
to be
able to do this again," she agreed, simply looking at her husband and
grinning uncontrollably. Sure, they had been married nearly nine
years and
had three children, but they still acted like newlyweds, which was
fine by
Mac.
"Nice doesn't begin to cover it," Harm said. He backed Mac against
the wall
with an evil grin. Running his hands slowly southward, Harm reacquainted
himself with every inch of Mac's olive skin, warm and smooth under
his loving
fingers.
Mac closed her eyes and concentrated on the here and now, something
she
hadn't been able to do for quite some time. Her thoughts drifted
over
everything that had happened in their lives together; from their first
meeting in the Rose Garden to their marriage to Shannon's birth, and
now to
Alexandra and Michaela. Her smile widened and she reached out
for her
husband, wanting to reaffirm what she meant to him. Her hands
unlatched
themselves from the shower tile and started their own path, up and
down
Harm's chest and finally around his waist, pulling him to her.
Harm pressed tight against Mac, kissing her gently. "I love you,"
he
whispered, feeling a familiar longing seeping through him at her touch.
"And I love you," Mac replied, forcing her eyes open.
"Good. I'd hate to have to find another wife," Harm teased.
"It took so
damn long to find you in the first place." Without another word,
he kissed
Mac, taking her breath away.
As Mac lay curled in bed, her damp hair framing her face, Harm smiled
contentedly. He peeked in the side room and into each bassinette.
Alex was
curled on her side, snoring softly. Kayla had rolled onto her
back, and Harm
reached in, carefully propping her up against a rolled-up blanket.
She
squeaked softly, settling down as she felt her father's firm hand rubbing
her
back.
Shutting the door behind him, Harm moved over to the desk and reached
for the
light. As he did, his arm knocked a book to the carpet.
He picked it up,
skimming its contents quickly. The first line caught his eye.
*That's
today's date.* Glancing over at Mac, who was sound asleep, Harm
began to
read. A slow smile spread across his face as an idea dawned on
him. He put
the book down and crossed the bedroom quickly, reaching into the depths
of
the closet for the box. Harm pulled it out and took it out into
the living
room, settling into a comfortable corner of the couch. He glanced
at the
clock on the mantel, between the wedding pictures.
"February 15th.
I know this is going to seem a little strange to you girls, but it's
something I should've been doing for a long time. Let me explain...when
your
Grandfather, my Dad, was away from home, he used to send me cassette
tapes of
himself and his friends, things going on around the ship he was on,
things
like that. I know cassettes are practically antiques now, but
you'll live."
Harm paused, grinning to himself. "I saw a letter your Mom was
writing to
you today, and I realized there are some things I want to tell you,
too, in
case I forget. Things like, when some boy is pulling your pigtails
in third
grade, and your mom tells you it's because he likes you, she's full
of it.
Boys are just jerks. Ask your Uncle Mic." Harm chuckled
into the
microphone.
"And I want to remind you not to take any wooden nickels, and don't
let
anyone take advantage of you, and things like that. But I know
Mom and I
will teach you those things, just like we're trying to teach Shannon.
So I
guess all I really want to say is...I love you girls. I'm not
good at saying
it, although your mom is teaching me, slowly but surely. I'm
going to try to
say it a lot, to each of you, and to show you. But just in case
I forget,
it's here on tape. You have proof. Just try not to use
it against me."
Harm grinned, clicking the "stop" button.
"I think I'll make a copy of that and send it to Uncle AJ. He
seems to get a
great thrill out of embarassing you via your emotions." Shannon
grinned from
the doorway, crossing in front of her father on the way to the kitchen.
Harm grabbed Shannon's leg and she went sprawling to the carpet.
"Tell your
Uncle AJ about this tape, and....and...." he tried to come up with
a threat
that would sound good.
Shannon simply grinned and mimicked something she had heard her mother
say to
her father time and time again. "Do you always express yourself
this well,
flyboy?"
"That's 'Papa Flyboy' to you, Shrimp Cocktail." Harm lay next
to Shannon on
the floor, holding her down with one hand and holding the other over
her, as
a threat of tickling.
"I'm shakin' in my PJs, Papa." Shannon smiled again. "That
was nice, what
you said." She lowered her voice and straightened, readjusting
her t-shirt.
Harm cleared his throat, lowering his eyes to the carpet as he studiously
avoided meeting his daughter's gaze. "I meant it," he replied,
fiddling with
a piece of the carpet.
"I know, Dad," Shannon replied, standing up and heading into the kitchen.
"You want some Oreos?"
"Sure." Harm stood, picking Shannon up under one arm like a sack
of
potatoes. "God, you're getting big. Stop growing, willya?"
Shannon rolled her eyes. "Sure, I'll readjust my DNA first thing
in the
morning." She rustled around in the cabinet and, eerily reminiscent
of her
Aunt Shelby, happily produced the cookies. "You want to grab
the milk?"
Harm shivered slightly at the resemblance, pulling out a jug of milk.
He
poured two cups and handed one to Shannon. As they sat there
dunking
cookies, side by side, Harm grinned. "You know, I couldn't ask
for a better
daughter," he muttered, staring at the cookie floating in his glass.
Shannon shot a look at her father before saying anything. "You
remember
Caroline Wills? That girl in my dance class?"
"Uh huh."
"Well, she said once that she was jealous of me 'cause I had you and
Mom. I
never really understood why...but I guess this past year, with Alex
and Kayla
and Natalie, I've realized that while you say you're proud to have
me as a
daugher, I'm more proud to have you as parents, if that makes any sense."
"It makes a lot of sense." Harm managed to choke out the words
around the
lump in his throat. "I'm just really flattered that you feel
that way, Shan."
Shannon shrugged, popping another cookie in her mouth. "Yeah,
well, what can
you do."
The father-daughter conversation was cut short by the clearing of a
throat in
the doorway. Mac stood with her arms crossed over her NAVY sweatshirt
and
USMC shorts and said, "It's a little late for dessert, Shannon Shelby."
"Eek," Harm turned, a look of guilt on his face. "It's my fault,"
he lied.
"I let her." He flashed a flyboy grin, hoping to escape in one
piece.
Shannon nodded. "Yup. It's all his fault." She took
a swig of milk and
handed her mother a cookie. "C'mon and join us, Mom."
Mac started to protest, but simply sat next to her daughter. They
hadn't had
much alone time with Shannon since the babies' arrivals, and now was
a good a
time as any. "Not too long," she warned. "You have school
in the morning
and your sisters are going to be up in about thirty-eight minutes for
their
12 AM feeding."
"Then she'll be up again in thirty-eight minutes anyway, right?" Harm
said
pragmatically, poking Shannon with a sidelong wink.
Mac shook her head. "She sleeps more soundly than you do, Harm.
I doubt a
hurricane could wake her, let alone crying three-month-olds."
"Aw, come on, Mom," Shannon pleaded, a whine starting to creep in her voice.
Mac rolled her eyes, dunking her Oreo. "You have thirty-six minutes
and
twenty-eight seconds, and then you must be in bed. And no complaining
how
tired you are in the morning."
"All *right!*" Shannon cried, high-fiving her father. "Leno or Letterman?"
Harm returned the high-five with a thankful smile directed at Mac.
"Letterman, of course," he replied disbelievingly. "Are you sure
you're my
daughter?"
Shannon held up her hands. "Well, I do look an awful lot like Uncle Mic...."
Harm's face went white.
"Dude, I was just kidding! Don't pee your pants," she called as
she went in
the living room and plopped on the floor, cookie in one hand and milk
in the
other.
Mac simply rolled her eyes and followed her family, once again grateful
for
everything she had.
"Moooooom, Dad's eating my filling!" Shannon cried, grasping desperately
at
her father's hand.
Maybe not *that* grateful, Mac thought with a smile as she sat down
on the
couch.
THE END
Feedback is better than midnight Oreos and milk...unless they're DOUBLE-STUF!
tamakesareborn@aol.com; xfilesdiva@excite.com