It's a pleasant summer night.  I turned the air conditioning off earlier and the windows are open.  The sounds of the city outside flutter in the apartment.   As I stare at the ring on my right hand, the candlelight catches the stone in just the right light.  It is a gorgeous ring. Mic has been in Washington for two months now, waiting for me to make a decision, but this decision is bigger than what it should be.  It involves so many more people than it should.

It should be about Sarah and Mic, but no, not only is it about Sarah and Mic, it is about Harm and Mac.  This shouldn't have anything to do with Harm, but it does.  For years I thought that one day, Harm and I would have a relationship beyond the boundaries of our careers.  I loved him.  I cried when he left JAG.  Regardless, he turned around and walked out of my life.

Mic loves me.  I have no doubt of that.  He left his life in Australia to be near me.  He wants to do whatever he can to make me happy. Still, I'm waffling.  Waiting for Harm to "let go."

Damn him.  I don't even know what he's holding on to.  He doesn't even know what he's holding on to.

That's a lie.  I do know what he's holding on to, even if he doesn't. He's holding on to my heart.  He's holding on so tightly that I can't break free and be happy.

I want happily ever after.  I want to give my children the life I never had.  I wanted that with Harm, but he never wanted it with me.

The irony of it is, I'm sitting here staring at this ring, agonizing over a life changing decision and he's probably at home fucking the video princess. That's not fair to Renee.  She's a nice person.  She just has what I've always wanted.  What I can never have, because he doesn't want to give it to me.

So while he carries on his life like nothing is different, I'm making it out to be different.

This is your wake up call Sarah MacKenzie.  If Harm wanted you, don't you think he would have said something by now?

It's time for me to break free.

I hear the front door close and look up to see Mic standing in the doorway to my bedroom.  He has a bundle of roses in one hand and a pint of ice cream in the other.

"Brought your favorite, chocolate chip cookie dough."  He smiles and hands me the container and the two spoons he got from the kitchen on the way in. This is what love is.  Someone who will get up in the middle of the night and bring you ice cream.  Not someone who may or may not ever let go.

"Thanks, Mic.  You're a sweetie."

"Only with you."

Mic shrugs off his clothes and sits on the bed with me.  This domesticity is getting to be familiar, comfortable.  Mic is a good man, in more ways than one.

I scoop up a bit of the ice cream and offer it to him.  Just as he is about to put his mouth around the spoon, I jerk it back.  Instead, I put the spoonful into my own mouth, and drag the spoon out with my lips closed.  Mic takes the spoon and the container out of my hand and places them on the nightstand.

He brings his mouth down to mine in a scorching kiss.  Even though the temperature outside is pleasant, all of a sudden it's burning up in here.  His tongue dances around mine tasting the residual of the ice cream and whatever he can take from me.

I lower myself to the bed, bringing him with me.  He breaks contact with my mouth long enough to get my nightgown over my head.  It joins the pile of his clothes beside the bed.  Mic places a line of maddeningly slow kisses down my neck and to my breasts.  He takes one nipple into his mouth and twirls the other between his fingers.

"I love you, Sarah," he whispers as he lets the nipple go free.  I know he does and that is all that matters.  That is all that can matter anymore.

"I love you, too,"  I say it so low, I'm not sure he heard me.  He supports himself with his hands and positions his hard shaft at my entrance.  He slides into me and I let out a slight gasp at the forcefulness.  He stops for a moment, withdraws  and just looks at me, waiting for me to signal that he can continue.  One slight nudge of my hips and he slides back in.  Over and over he thrusts in and out.  He brings his mouth back down to mine, and I thread my fingers through his hair.  I can feel him in me deeper than I thought possible.  It's a wonderful feeling, a bit rougher than what you might expect, but that's just who Mic is.  He takes what he wants and I'm not complaining. Believe me, I'm not complaining.

I break one of my hands free from his hair and let it travel between us.  I rub my hand across my clitoris. In doing so, I graze his penis and he shudders at the touch.  I start playing with myself to speed my orgasm along.  That is one thing that I have to 'admire' about Mic.

He's man enough to know the fact that I can't orgasm well just from his penetration and that it isn't necessarily about him. A few more minutes of this action and we're both spiraling toward the peak.  Mic gets there first and has the good sense not to collapse on me when he's done.  I finish a few minutes later and he slides to the side. Mic props himself up on his forearm and just stares at me for a minute. I bring my right hand up and caress the side of his face.  He catches my hand and looks at it for a moment.

Taking a deep breath, I look him in the eye and slide the ring off my right hand.  He panics for a minute, until I place the ring in his hand and offer my left hand to him.  He slides the ring onto my left hand and kisses the stone gently.

I link my hand through his and we drift off into a peaceful slumber.