Epilogue

After much discussion amongst themselves, and with the admiral, they all concurred the best plan of action was for Mac to accept a judiciary position as soon as possible. She donned the role one month after announcing their engagement.

Catherine continued to recover with amazing speed. After about two months in the rehab ward, she was discharged. As planned, she went to stay with Mac and Harm. Mac had been right, it was a wonderful opportunity for her and Harm to slowly relinquish control of David easing the pain of loss, and for Catherine to adjust to all of the changes in David's life. To everyone's relief, David took to his mom immediately. He still loved being with Mac, but there was never the reservation they had all silently worried about.

Within days of their initial meeting with Admiral Chegwidden, Harm and Mac also decided they wanted to be married before AJ retired. With a little help from some well placed friends, a wedding was squeezed into the schedule at Annapolis for Saturday August 12, 2004. On Monday, August 29th, Rear Admiral AJ Chegwidden officially retired from the US Navy.

Harm and Mac were fortunate to have been given two weeks leave to enjoy a honeymoon in Paris. Although they initially considered somewhere in the Caribbean, Trish finally convinced them the only place to be was in a city famous for its lovers.

Their very first night in Paris, Harm and Mac walked along the river Seine holding hands. When they reached the bridge by Notre Dame Cathedral, Mac reached into her pocket and pulled out a small packet of pills. Handing them to Harm, he flung the contraceptives as far down the river as he could. Pulling his wife around, he kissed her soundly before wrapping one arm around her and heading back to the hotel.

Often they'd walk the city at night, awed by the beautiful reflections mirrored from the streetlights or the water drops glistening from the well lit fountains. No wonder Paris was called the city of lights. The river Seine, the streetside cafés, the sound of an accordion playing, the mimes, the corner crepe stands, every little thing oozed romance.

One day after playfully lingering in bed all morning, as had become their daily ritual, they decided to take a late afternoon stroll around the famed artist district of Monte Martre. The famous white domed cathedral was perched high on a hill with breathtaking views of all of Paris. While Mac was sitting for an artist sketching her portrait, Harm was mesmerized by something across the way.

"What's got your attention?" Mac asked. "Not bored with me already?" she smiled wryly.

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear that man drinking coffee on the other side of the square was Clayton Webb." Harm's brow furrowed deep in thought.

"What?" Mac wanted to turn but the artist kept scolding her for fidgeting.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why? You mean besides he looks just like him?" Harm asked incredulous. What did she mean why?

"Well, I suppose it's something about the way he holds himself, his gestures, mannerisms. It all reminds me of Webb," Harm replied, carefully studying the stranger.

Her portrait finally done, Mac stepped over to Harm and tried inconspicuously to peek at the man.

"Good Lord, you're right." Mac tried not to gape.

"What do you say we take a casual stroll around the square, maybe we can get a closer look," Harm suggested.

Halfway around the square, only a few yards away from their goal, Mac stopped frozen.

"This is silly, we know it can't possibly be Webb," Mac sighed.

"Do we? I never saw a body, did you? There wasn't even a real funeral or memorial service," Harm pointed out.

"He would never abandon his son," Mac commented.

"He hasn't. David is very well provided for, both financially and emotionally. He said it himself in the letter, he was prepared to have very little to do with his son's life."

"I repeat, for the record, this is ridiculous," Mac insisted.

"So specified, for the record." Harm put his arm around the small of her back and nudged her along the way.

When they got to the edge of the café where the man had been sitting, Harm and Mac began to peruse through some postcards displayed nearby.

"I'm starting to get hungry, I wonder what time it is?" Mac asked, setting the scene.

"I don't know, I forgot my watch at the hotel. Maybe we can ask one of the shopkeepers, most of them speak English fairly well." Harm was playing along.

Turning to the man they'd been spying, "Excusez moi Mr., quelle heure est-ils?" Mac asked. (Excuse me sir, what time is it?)

Looking up for the first time from the magazine he'd been reading, the gentleman barely showed any reaction to Mac's question. Glancing briefly at Mac, then over to Harm, his eyes wandered down to Mac's left hand tightly gripping Harm's, the diamond wedding band glistening in the sun.

"Il est six heure moins quart," he replied in flawless French. (It's a quarter to six.)

"Merci," Mac and Harm continued down to the next café and took a seat.

"The French makes it tough, but I'd almost be willing to swear that's Clayton's voice." Mac sighed, amazed at her own thoughts.

"I guess it's something we'll never know," Harm said, watching the man pay his tab and walk away.

"I wonder," she said softly, as he walked away.

"I know," Harm agreed.

When David was eighteen months old, Porter Webb started making noises about the upbringing David was receiving. Harm and Mac both gently reminded her of Clayton's request to help Catherine in any way and mostly to abide by Catherine's wishes. With some additional persuasion from Gordon Stevens, it took a few weeks but she settled down.

One year later Harriet enthusiastically threw a house christening. With all the commotion of the engagement, Mac's new billet, and of course the wedding, Harriet never did get to throw Harm and Mac the housewarming she had wanted to. Harm had diligently worked on almost every room in the house. The final project had been the second floor landing with a brand new pool table and Harriet simply had to get a party out of her system.

Fifteen months later, the Rabbs hosted a barbecue to celebrate the new volleyball pit.

"I love what you've done with the yard ma'am." Harriet walked over by the back door surveying the property.

"That volleyball pit was a stroke of genius."

"It started out as a sand box and Harm got a little carried away," Mac giggled as she put the salad into the fridge.

"Does he really want to put a pool in too?" Harriet turned back to where Mac was working at the counter.

"I think I've talked him out of it. I may just have to find a room for him to redo in the house. It never dawned on me when he finished remodeling the house he was going to want to keep going." Shaking her head, Mac picked up the tray of lemonade. "Can you get the glasses for me."

Before she could move, a three-year-old ball of fire came barreling down from the hallway and threw himself around Mac's legs.

Maternal reflexes lurching into action, Harriet grabbed the tray from Mac before it all tumbled to the ground.

Nodding her gratitude to Harriet, Mac leaned down to properly accept the fervent embrace.

"Aunt Mac, Aunt Mac. Look what Uncle Harm gave me!" The excited child gleamed.

"I see, is that for your collection?"

"Yeah, it's just like the one Grandma Porter gave me. Do you like it?" David's eyes were round with joy.

"I don't know who spoils him more, Harm or his grandmothers," Catherine Gayle sighed as she propped herself against the doorframe.

"What else is family for." Mac stood back up again, and patted David on the head.

Just as Harriet was about to reach for the back door, Harm came through holding it for her.

"Thanks, sir," she smiled as she stepped into the backyard, David flying past her.

"She's never going to call me Harm is she?" Harm shook his head smiling at Mac. "Look who just woke up and wants her mommy. I'll trade you one hungry bouncing baby girl for some cheese for the burgers." He leaned over kissing his wife gently on the cheek.

"Deal." Mac reached for her three-month-old daughter Emily.

Harm took the cheese Mac handed him with her free hand and turned to Catherine. "Glad you could make it. I can't believe how big he's gotten." He stepped over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"You know how it is. Blink your eyes and they're all grown up," she smiled.

"So they tell me." Harm turned and headed back outside.

"It's nice to see how everything worked out." Catherine waxed sentimental.

"I owe you," Mac smiled as she fed Emily.

"For what?" Catherine sat down in the kitchen chair next to Mac.

"For all this." Mac looked around the kitchen and out to the yard, then she looked back at Catherine.

"For telling him I was good for him and to stop lying to himself."

Catherine looked over to where her son was buzzing around the yard with his new airplane.

"I think someone else deserves all the credit." Catherine Gayle smiled proudly at her beautiful son.

Mac scanned the yard, her eyes falling on the energetic little boy. She nodded her head and smiled knowingly.

"Mommy, we've got a very messy little boy here." Harriet had come in the back door with two year old Daniel Rabb, covered in mud. "It seems he discovered how to turn on the garden hose," Harriet announced her eyebrows high.

Harm's 'stamina' had kept Mac 'occupied' day and night the first months they were married. Danny made his appearance only ten months after the wedding. There hadn't been a dull moment in Mac's life since. Even Harm's stamina had dwindled very little despite having two children. Smiling to herself, Mac handed Emily off to Catherine and began stripping her mischievous toddler.

Yes, everything she had ever envisioned paled in comparison to the reality of what her life had become with Harmon Rabb all because of a horrible car accident, and a beautiful baby boy.

A/N – please keep in mind I wrote this long before TPTB every considered killing off or resuscitating one Clayton Webb. LOL