By: Fox
Spoilers: None yet�
Author�s Note: My first JAG fic� hope you like!
* * *
Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie jerked awake. Her eyes quickly and efficiently scanned the room. Nothing. Like there always was. Nothing. Just an empty room. Groaning slightly, she rolled onto her stomach and stretched her long, lithe body out as far as it would go. Six a.m. on the dot. Not the best hour of the morning. Not late, not early. The time when you were either already up, showered and getting a caffeine boost, or snuggling down in the warm confines of your blankets. It wasn�t her favourite hour at all. But Sarah Mackenzie was not one to complain. After lying in her stretch for a few more seconds, she raised her frame from the bed and plodded sluggishly over to the bathroom. She was trying hard not to think about the nightmare. The same one. Every night. And she had no idea what it meant.
Sighing, she splashed some cold water on her face and ran a brush idly through her hair. She stared at her reflection carefully in the mirror. The same face there always was but� there was something different. A little more tired, a little more careworn, a little more stressed than last time she looked. Mac frowned at herself, then allowed herself the smallest of smiles.
�Silly girl,� she muttered to herself as she left the bathroom to enter the kitchen. She was drawn like a magnet to the coffeepot. Her lifesaver. Her six-a.m. wake up call. Her late night buddy. All steamy warm, delicious caffeine. Mac licked her smooth lips in anticipation as she waited for the water to boil.
She was immensely surprised then, to hear the phone ringing away insistently, breaking the early morning silence. Mac groaned. Her coffee would have to wait. She stalked over to the phone and snatched it up.
�Mackenzie.� It was too early to bother with pleasantries.
�Good morning, ma�am. Would you like to purchase the latest Internet Shopping Software plus a free installation and demo?�
Mac stifled a laugh. But ever the smooth talking, diplomatic lawyer, she held her tongue and kept her voice civil. �No, thank you, not today.�
�Are you sure?� asked the oh-so-fake voice on the other end of the line.
�I�m sure, thanks all the same. Goodbye,� she replied, keeping her tone friendly but firm. Many people she knew hated being rung up at such odd hours and often yelled uncontrollably at the syrupy sweet voice on the other end. Not that she enjoyed it, but losing her temper never did anything. As she had proved way to often in the past.
She tossed her head slightly, rolled her eyes and chuckled as she walked back to her coffee. Why those phone-marketers thought that six ten and thirty five seconds was the perfect time to sell her Internet shopping software was beyond her. She quickly drank down her coffee, relishing its warmth.
Mac walked back to her bedroom. She wanted to get to work early. She always got to work early. And always came home late, she ruefully thought. JAG was her life. Not that it was a bad thing� but sometimes, she wanted a bit more. To be Mac, to be Sarah, to do the things she liked. Mac sighed. It wasn�t going to change to that anytime soon. She slipped on her uniform. Lieutenant Colonel again. And lately, she was finding it harder and harder to be herself, without the rank, without all the responsibility.
She entered the bathroom again, brushing her hair down. It bounced around, framing her features, just the way she liked it. She applied a little bit of makeup, reddening her lips, blacking her lashes. She smiled briefly at herself as she made the final touches and swept out of the room again.
Mac hurriedly pulled on some pantyhose and slipped her feet into her shoes. Why she was rushing like this she had no idea. There was no need to go this fast, even if she did want to get there early.
Because if she stopped, if she slowed, terrible things would happen�
Mac shook her head. �Suck it up, Marine,� she growled to herself. �Now is not the time for philosophical dream analysis.� She grabbed her briefcase, her keys and left the room. Mac grabbed an apple as she swept through the kitchen. Her eyes roamed her house, mentally checking locks, windows, everything. All secure. She nodded to reassure herself. And with that, Sarah Mackenzie was gone.
She eyed the sleek body appreciatively. She loved this car. Hopping in, she put her stuff down on the passenger seat and peeled out, quickly pulling into the traffic. Even at this early hour, the D.C. streets were busy, but Mac was an accomplished driver in these parts. She had all the moves.
It was hard to explain why, but she felt more secure once she was in the traffic. In control. She gradually felt the tension ease out of her muscles as she relaxed. Mac even turned on the radio.
She didn�t recognize the tune that came belting out, but the artist was female and Mac guessed she had a good voice. Harriet would know who she was. It constantly amazed the tall Marine that her friend was a bit of a walking encyclopedia on modern pop culture.
Without realising she was doing it, Mac slowly began to bob her head in time with the music. She shimmied her hips slightly beneath the seat belt and took one hand off the wheel to wave it gracefully above her head.
She stopped suddenly when she felt a bit uncomfortable. Twisting slightly to the left, she saw two well dressed, obviously successful businessmen looking rather oddly at her. Mac grinned when she realized how stupid she must have looked. A fully uniformed Marine Colonel dancing to some pop princess in her car at 6:30am in the morning. It was laughable.
Her grin widened ever the more as she thought about yelling something out to them. She was so very, very tempted to call out �Yep, that�s right! I�m the last line of defense this country has!� but she bit her tongue and drove off.
The rest of her drive was relatively uneventful. She drove into JAG headquarters and parked in her usual spot. Everything was normal. Calm. Just another day at the office. JAG was the one place she felt truly safe� well, one of two places she felt safe. The other place� she didn�t want to think about it too closely, not at the moment. She hadn�t regained her fragile emotional stability back from everything that had happened recently and didn�t want to go down that path� as that path involved a certain sailor and some serious unresolved issues.
But that path could be the one that would get her back to where she was, better, happier� Mac sighed. �Off to work we go,� she hummed softly to herself, and walked into the building.
�In a hurry, Colonel?� came a teasing voice from behind her. Mac blushed slightly and turned to face the speaker.
�Sturgis. Good morning.� She smiled politely, though in her head she was kicking herself for her jumpiness.
�Get a grip, Marine!� she thought.
�Wanted to get in early today, hey Mac?� he asked. If he noticed her mentally reprimanding herself, he made no comment.
�Yeah, I�ve got some tough cases and I can�t wait to get started!� she said, pumping her voice full of some oh-so-fake enthusiasm. Sturgis raised and eyebrow, but Mac swiftly cut him off.
�Look! The elevator is here�� and she walked straight into it, closing any further discussion on her nervousness.
Sturgis declined any comment as the elevator began its descent. Already, he knew better than to push the Marine on an issue, especially one she was clearly trying to avoid.
They rode the whole way in companionable silence. Mac didn�t want to talk, Sturgis wasn�t going to push. Then they arrived at the right floor.
�Ladies first,� said Sturgis, making a grand sweeping gesture. Mac smiled, truly smiled, for the first time that morning and left the elevator. The two lawyers walked into the bullpen. Despite the early hour, it was already bustling with personnel.
Sturgis noted Mac make a quick sweep of the room with her eyes, then frowned when what she was looking for clearly wasn�t in plain sight.
�Harm won�t be in till about 8:30,� he said carefully, pretty sure he knew whom she was looking for. Mac looked startled for a moment, then turned and said firmly, if a bit snappishly, �I wasn�t looking for Harm.�
Mac looked at Sturgis long and hard, then shook her head and retreated to her office.
Sturgis followed her figure with his eyes. She had been lying, that much was clear. In fact she had been very keen to see Harm, he could tell. And what was more, he had caught her off-guard twice. If there was one thing he had learnt about Mac, it was that she was a very guarded person. Sturgis frowned as he walked to his own office. Something was definitely up.
***
Meanwhile, out in the bullpen, Sturgis glanced with concern at the Colonel�s office. She was clearly distressed and had lost her cool easily, which was something she hardly, if ever, did. And she clearly wanted to talk to Harm about whatever it was. Sturgis smiled in spite of himself. This could get very interesting. He spotted Harriet�s blonde head bobbing busily about. �Lieutenant? Could you tell Commander Rabb to see me when he gets in?� he asked her, letting a slight bit of urgency creep into his voice.
�Certainly, sir,� she replied, bright and bubbly as usual. Harriet made no comment as he turned and walked away. Discreet and capable, there was not much that Lieutenant Sims missed. She had noticed the Colonel�s jumpiness and now Commander Turner demanding to see Commander Rabb in such a formal way� something was definitely going on, and Harriet was determined to find out.
***
Later that morning, Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. entered the bullpen at precisely 8:30. He gazed calmly at the somewhat frantic scene in front of him, and was immediately confronted by a bouncing blonde. �Lieutenant!� he exclaimed, startled. �Good morning!�
�Yes, sir,� she said, brushing his greeting aside. �Commander Turner wishes to see you in his office immediately, sir.�
�Sturgis? Since when does he demand to see me?� Harm asked, more to himself than anyone else.
�Let me put my briefcase in my office,� he told the eager Lieutenant.
�Oh, let me take care of it, sir! You go see Commander Turner!� Harriet hustled him off in that direction.
A bewildered Harm rapped his knuckles twice on the door to Sturgis� office.
�Come on in, Harm,� Sturgis drawled. His relaxed attitude only leant itself to Harm's confused state.
�What�s up, Sturgis?� he asked, and the other Commander suddenly turned serious.
�It�s Mac,� he began, suddenly unsure how to phrase what he was thinking.
�Mac? What�s wrong with Mac?� Harm tried to keep aloof and cool, but he couldn�t help a rather large amount of concern from creeping into his voice. What if something was seriously wrong with her? Harm wasn�t afraid of anything for himself, but sometimes, and he rarely admitted it, he was terribly scared for Mac. What if something happened? What if� he lost her? Harm shook his head and focused back on Sturgis, who still hadn�t uttered a word through Harm�s contemplation.
�She was very on edge this morning. And she was very eager to see you, though it was clear she would give up Beltway Burgers forever if she admitted it. I�m worried about her, Harm,� Sturgis said, leaning forward, eyes intense. �Talk to her.�
Harm stood, trying to collect his thoughts� something was up with Mac, and she wanted to talk to him. They had been treading very carefully around eachother of late, and the fact that she wanted to see him clearly demonstrated the gravity of the situation. Harm frowned. He was also slightly jealous of how concerned Sturgis was of her. He knew they were friends, but part of him was eager to tell Sturgis that Mac wasn�t his to care about.
Harm was taken back by his own thoughts. Surely he didn�t think that Mac was his to care about� his. God, he wished she was�
�Alright, Sturgis, I�ll talk to her, see if I can work out what�s wrong�� Harm amended.
�Good�� Sturgis nodded, satisfied with his work. �Oh and Harm�� he called to the other Commander, �good luck! She�s in one heck of a mood. You�re going to have your work cut out getting it out of her�� he trailed off, the thought uncompleted.
Harm gave him a slight grin, then set his jaw and walked across the bullpen to said Marine�s door.
Harmon Rabb, nervous and shy! He shook his head. It was laughable. �Go on! It�s Mac we�re talking about here! She doesn�t bite�� he frowned as he thought it over. �Well, in certain situations�� he laughed out loud. Then realising how stupid he looked talking and laughing to Mac�s office door, he knocked to be let in.
***
Mac lifted her eyes from the glowing computer screen at the knock. Through the thin gaps in the venetian blinds, she could make out the tall, stately silhouette of a certain sailor. The sailor she wanted to see so desperately, but also the one she didn�t want to let in� For a brief moment, Mac gave herself over to panic as the conflict raged with in her. But panicking never worked. It was counterproductive, and the beautiful Marine saw this at once. He was probably just talking about a case or something Mac told herself, trying to regain composure. She cleared her throat, sat up a bit straighter and announced formally, �Enter.�
There was a moments pause, then the door swung open and a head poked around in a style so typical of Harmon Rabb. His eyes gave her a quick once over. �Yes, Commander?� she asked, voice light but stern.
�Mac? I came in here as your friend to talk, not as another officer. Can we cut the formality?� Harm said carefully, fully entering the room.
Mac took a deep breath to steady herself and looked at her lap, before returning her strong gaze to his. She saw the flash of concern in his eyes and it dawned on her that Sturgis had noticed how high strung she had been that morning. And he had told. Harm studied her face carefully and knew instantly that Sturgis was a dead man.
�Mac�� he started, then stopped. He had no idea what to say.
�Look, I know why you�re here. Sturgis noticed I was a bit off this morning and told you to talk to me? I just had a bad night that�s all. There was a big party next door and I barely went to sleep.� The excuse sounded hopelessly pathetic to her ears, but she pasted a tense smile on her face and tried hard to look like she believed it.
�Okay�� Harm said, drawing out the syllables slowly. She was avoiding, big time. But he didn�t want to push her, didn�t want to make her upset, not in their current situation. So he decided on a simple, �That�s fine.� Then he continued on, deciding it was worth the risk. �But Mac, if you need to talk� I�m always available,� he said, slowly and carefully. He gave her an intense, penetrating look and Mac felt as though his eyes were boring through her, reading all her innermost thoughts. Sarah Mackenzie prided herself on her fearlessness, toughness, and boldness, and never flinched when faced with a difficult case or someone trying to kill her� but in the face of such a penetrating stare, she averted her gaze.
�Be seeing you�� Harm said finally, glancing at her once more as he left her office. As soon as he was all the way gone, Mac dropped her head into her hands and slumped down over her desk.
***
Harm exhaled slowly as he closed the door gently behind him. At least he was in one piece. It hadn�t been as bad as he had expected, but Sturgis was right � she was very upset about something. Harm resolved to get to the bottom of it, but he knew that was difficult. He recognized she was suffering an internal conflict � she wanted so much to tell him, but she didn�t know how. He knew this because he felt the same around her, so many times, about so many things. Harm sighed as he retreated to his own office. He hoped she would come to him of her own accord, but knowing Sarah Mackenzie, it would take a major event to let that happen.
They were both alike in so many ways, but so different. Fearless, bold, capable of standing the most harsh of adversity. But the thing they feared most was eachother and the uncontrollable feelings they were finding it harder and harder to deny. Deep down, they were both so vulnerable. Harm sighed. He knew their problem easily enough, but� �Face it, Rabb, you�re just too darn scared to admit anything to her,� he shook his head at his own thickheadedness. Not that he would admit anywhere else but in private that he was being thickheaded. He just didn�t want to hurt her� that was the last thing he wanted to do. The emotional turmoil she suffered under daily was enough for ten people, let alone one very vulnerable woman. Harm sighed. If she felt like it, she would come to him, that much he knew� all he could do for the moment was make himself available and hope it would be enough. God he hoped it would be enough.
***
In her office, unknowingly, the Marine Colonel�s thoughts were running on very similar lines to her Navy counterpart. He had been so close, he had offered himself, and she had pushed him away. She felt a sudden rush of hot anger as she remembered when she had offered herself, and he had pushed her back� but this was a completely different context. Or was it really? Her anger stopped in its tracks. Mac frowned. Both of them had pushed the other away for simple fear of hurting, for fear of being hurt. Mac sighed and closed her eyes. She really did not need this right now. Not with that recurring nightmare, which was now beginning to haunt her daytime as well. What she needed was her sailor� but she had just blocked him out! Mac sighed. What on earth was she going to do?
She was still however, in a fix about her situation and how she had brushed off Harm. It was kind of nice he was concerned about her. She guessed Sturgis was being kind and considerate too but it didn�t stop her from wanting to tear him limb from limb for telling Harm to talk to her. Which is why she was less than impressed when he knocked on her door.
�What?� she snapped moodily, abandoning all pretenses off cool and focusing only on her anger.
�Did he talk to you?� asked Sturgis. He failed to realize the danger he was in. Mac formulated her best death stare and stood up, hands clenching and unclenching on her desk. She didn�t care that the door was open and the whole office was looking covertly in. All she wanted to do was tell Sturgis off.
�You had no right!� she growled, coming around from behind her desk and sticking a finger to a very surprised Sturgis� chest.
�Mac, I was being helpful,� he said, backing away and spreading his arms wide.
�Be a bit more helpful� next time, get your nose out of my business!� her volume increasing with every syllable as she pushed him back out into the bullpen. She was shaking with rage. No one else in the room bothered to hide their looks anymore. �I am fine!� she almost yelled at him. Then she glared around the office. �As you were!� she snarled, and stalked right out of the office, leaving many surprised personnel behind.
Sturgis just stood there, shocked and taken aback. He had expected her to be less than happy, but not that mad. He frowned. Something was way, way, wrong.
***
Harm had watched the whole exchange from the corner of his office. Mac was definitely not a happy camper. Something was upsetting her desperately. He wished he could know what it was, and he wished he could be there for her and wipe away all her hurt�
***
Once outside, Mac let out a steadying breath and calmed herself down. She was shocked at her actions. She couldn�t believe she had lost it, much less at Sturgis. He was only a concerned friend. It then hit her that she wasn�t really angry at Sturgis� that was just her mask, her fa�ade. She had been really letting off her pent up, traumatic emotions tumbling with in her� poor Sturgis had simply taken the brunt of her mood. Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie bit her lip. She had been hiding behind her fa�ade way too often lately. It was time to release her fears� she had to talk to Harm. She knew he would be home that night, so she amended to visit him that night. The time for all this lying to herself, and the games and masks was over. It was time to face the music. But first, she thought ruefully, she had to apologize to Sturgis� after lunch, of course.
She was, of course, fully aware that every set of eyes was trained on her, curious about her previous outburst. Mac looked carefully around the room. She used a little look she had perfected over the years, a sweet combination of "eat-shit-and-die", "I'm-the-highest-ranking-officer-here-and-don't-you-forget-it" and a touch of "don't ask..."
It worked a charm. Every single pair of eyes averted from her own. Except those of one Lieutenant Singer.
"Damn..." Mac muttered. Singer was coming her way, with the most evil look on her face.
Harm watched the scene from the door of his office. Only Singer would have the balls to take on a pissed off, embarrassed Mac.
This should be good.
"Ma'am?" Singer asked, approaching Mac. Mac desperately fought the urge to groan and roll her eyes.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" she asked in her best 'officer' voice.
"I have a problem, ma'am."
"Don't we all, Lieutenant. What seems to be the problem?" Mac raised one eyebrow.
"Your behavior in the bullpen before was less than appropriate for on of the highest ranking JAG officers, ma'am. I expected more from an officer of your caliber. I think you need to have some counseling so you don't need to bring your little insecurities into the office. I think everything will function much better that way, ma'am."
There was a moment's silence as every single jaw in the office dropped in amazement.
Harriet dropped all the papers she was carrying.
Harm nearly choked on his coffee.
Tiner dropped the phone in his hand.
Even the Admiral, who had entered the bullpen, was struck dumb.
All eyes switched to Mac, who looked like she was about to kill Singer with her bare hands. Her cheeks were flushed, brow furrowed, her hands were clenching and unclenching by her side and she was literally shaking with rage.
"Colonel!" snapped the Admiral, before Mac could inflict grievous bodily harm to the younger woman.
Mac turned her head, but didn't respond. She was shocked beyond belief.
"You, Lieutenant Singer, my office, now." The Admiral's tone left no room for argument.
"The rest of you..." he eyed the stunned office. "Back to work."
***
Colonel Mackenzie and Lieutenant Singer stood side by side under the penetrating gaze of the Admiral.
"Singer, explain yourself," he hissed, voice icy. Mac didn't move a muscle.
"Colonel Mackenzie had an... outburst at Commander Turner this morning, sir. I merely thought she should be reminded of how an officer should behave, sir."
"Who is the higher ranking officer out of you and the Colonel, Singer?" the Admiral asked, barely containing his rage.
"The Colonel, sir. But..."
"No buts! That behavior was completely inappropriate! A direct insult to a senior officer... you could be court martialled, Singer," he growled. "You have gone far enough, Singer. You are immediately stripped of your entire caseload. I want you to bury yourself in a mountain of paperwork and if I hear so much as 'boo' out of you, I will not hesitate to press charges. Understood?"
"Aye, sir." Singer shot a look of pure loathing at Mac, who remained impassive.
"Dismissed." A.J shook his head wearily. God, he hated that woman.
The Lieutenant left the room. Mac still didn't flinch.
"Mac?" asked A.J cautiously. "Are you okay?"
"Fine, sir."
"Mac..."
"Fine, sir," she reiterated, more forcefully this time.
"Okay... I trust you will work out whatever happened with Commander Turner, understood?"
"Yes, sir. I was on my way there now, sir."
"Good."
"Will that be all, sir?"
A.J took a deep breath. "Yes, that will be all. Dismissed."
Mac nodded and turned on her heel to leave. As she twisted the handle, the Admiral called after her,
"If Singer does anything, anything at all, call me and I will press charges, okay?"
Mac turned and gave him a grateful smile.
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
***
As she entered the bullpen again, even more curious stares were thrown her way. Fortunately, Singer had disappeared. Mac breathed a sigh of relief as she walked to Sturgis' door.
"Why can't this fucking day just end?" she muttered to herself as she rapped sharply on the door with her knuckles.
"Enter!" called Sturgis.
She entered.
"Mac! Are you okay?" he asked immediately. "Singer went off her rocker this time!"
"I know, I know... don't say anything about it." Mac slumped into a chair and cupped her face in her hands.
"Sturgis..." she began.
"Mac..." he started at exactly the same time.
"Me first... please. Otherwise I'll lose the guts to do it." Mac flashed him a nervous grin.
"Sturgis... I'm so sorry about what I said before, I had no right. You were only concerned about my well being and I bit your head off. I'm sorry." She raised her eyes and gave him a tentative smile. "I've never been very good at apologies."
"Forgiven and forgotten, Mac," Sturgis said warmly. Then his tone turned serious.
"Mac, I have no idea what's up with you, but it's got you rattled. Please, for all our sakes, talk to Harm! You know you'll feel better..."
"Sturgis, do you have any idea what its like? What it's like to love somebody so much but know you can never have them? Harm is... he's..." she moved her hands around looking for the right words.
"He's everything. My whole life, I was made to believe I was nothing. But Harm... he believed in me, he never gave up on me, forgave me every time I screwed up... he made me believe I was worth something to somebody... He was there for me every time I was scared, alone, worried, sad... when I fell, he picked me up. Except for the one time I needed him most..." she sighed as she stood up.
"It's killing me, Sturgis, it really is..." she smiled sadly. "It kills me to know I can never have him. That's why I can't talk to him, because it will only hurt me more, knowing he is so close, but so far. I don't suppose you heard about that night at Sydney, and when Mic and I broke up, but he turned me away then, and it will kill me if he turns me away again. That's why I can't talk to him."
She turned and walked silently from the room.
Sturgis couldn't think of a single thing to say.
***
Mac sighed as she left the room. Half of her wondered why she had told Sturgis that... the other half was glad she had gotten it off her chest. It then occurred to her that she had promised herself that she would see Harm that night.
She now seriously doubted her strength to go through with it.
"I can't face that again..." she murmured.
"Face what?"
Mac's head snapped up to see Harm smiling softly down at her.
"Pardon?"
"Face what, Mac? You said 'I can't face that again'... was Sturgis mad?" he asked, concerned eyes boring into her.
"Oh, no... he accepted my apology. Um, Harm?" she asked. Swallowing to steady herself, she rushed on before he could say anything.
"I was wondering if, uh, you..." Mac blushed. Suddenly she had no idea what to say and all her confidence flew out the window.
"I'm sorry..." she mumbled and bolted for the Admiral's office, leaving a stunned Harm standing outside Sturgis' office.
"Something is up with that girl," commented the other Commander as he opened the door.
"Tell me about it... I'm worried about her, Sturgis."
"We need to talk, Harm. In my office."
***
"Tiner? May I see the Admiral?" asked Mac. She desperately wanted to leave the office. This day had been absolute hell.
"Of course, ma'am." He buzzed the Admiral on the intercom.
"Colonel Mackenzie here to see you, sir."
"Let her in," came the tinny voice of the Admiral over the machine.
"Thanks, Tiner." Mac strode into the office without the slightest hesitation. What she was about to do was the surest thing she'd done all day.
"How can I help you, Colonel?" asked the Admiral.
"Sir, I know I have leave time owing and I was wondering if I could have the rest of the day off? Please, sir." A direct approach was always best with the Admiral. She just hoped she wouldn't have to beg.
A.J Chegwidden looked at the desperation in the younger officer's eyes.
"All right, Colonel. But you will be back tomorrow morning, right?"
"Yes sir! Thank you, sir. Thank you."
She offered him a crisp salute and turned to leave the office. The whole JAG office, to go home and feel miserable in private.
Finally.
***
Harm sat in the chair occupied by Mac only moments before, leaning forward in anticipation, eyes trained on Sturgis.
"Harm, you can't tell her that I told you this..."
"Okay..." he was instantly curious.
"Mac has been pretty shook up today, about what I don't know, but if you want to find out and help her, you are going to have to go to her. She won't come to you. I don't know all the intricacies of your relationship in the past, but from what I've heard, you pushed her way - several times. And it hurt her. So now it's up to you to make the first move."
"I know, Sturgis, it's just..." Harm trailed off, unsure of how to voice his feelings.
"Harm, you and Mac are so special to each other. You'll find a way."
Harm nodded. Sturgis had once again gauged his thoughts without him even saying a word.
"Go to her, Harm."
"Okay. I will. Tonight." Harm nodded again to reassure himself.
"Thanks, Sturgis."
"Anytime..."
***
Harm left the room and started back towards his own office. Mac, he noticed, had left for the day.
"Tonight, Mac. I'll make it better tonight," he mumbled softly, the promise sealed.
*** Back at JAG, Harm was sorting through cases, not really thinking. His thoughts were still trained on a certain Marine. "Sturgis is right, you dope, go to her." The words sounded simple in his head, but he knew they would be a heck of a lot harder to put into practice. "Its simple, sailor. Drive to the apartment, ring the doorbell, talk to Mac when she opens door." He talked it through in his head, using simply words like when talking to a child or, Harm mused, someone being as thickheaded as himself. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts; he didn't notice Harriet knocking on the door. Repeatedly. For the last three minutes. "SIR!" she nearly shouted. "What!" Harm jerked backwards, head snapping up. "Sir, I have been knocking on your door and calling your name for ages. There is a man here to see you, a Navy Lieutenant Sterling." "Oh," Harm vaguely remembered the name. "Um, send him in." Harriet nodded and disappeared for a moment. Harm heard muffled voices, then a young man, all poster boy good looks and muscle entered the room. "Sit down, Lieutenant." Harm scrabbled for his name. "Sterling!" "Thank you, sir." Harm looked down at his papers. Suddenly, it became very obvious where he had read the name before. In the file sitting right on top of all his paperwork. His current case. He quickly gave the file a once over. Lieutenant James David Sterling, a Navy pilot assigned to the Seahawk. On charges for insubordination. "Lieutenant, could you please tell me exactly what happened on May 6th, 2002." Harm began. Unfortunately, Mac would have to wait. Dammit.
***
Finally, after interviewing the Lieutenant and doing his job dutifully, Harm was ready to go home for the day. Packing up his office, he placed several files in his briefcase, shut down his computer and locked the rest of the files away.
Exiting his office, he smiled at Harriet, happily typing away to Bud, openly glared at Singer and walked to Sturgis' office. "Sturgis?" "Yes?" "I'm leaving now, going to go talk to Mac. Thought you'd like to know that your pestering finally paid off!" Harm flashed him a wry grin. "'Bout time," Sturgis said teasingly, grinning back at Harm. "Good luck!" "Thanks. anyhow, bye!" "See you tomorrow!" Sturgis waved him out of the office.
Harm had almost made it to the elevator, when the stately figure of a certain Admiral began making a clear and obvious path towards the elevator. "Commander!" he called, in that perfect military voice. Although he didn't want to be chewed out by the Admiral, Harm spun neatly to face him. "Sir?" The Admiral dropped his voice. "Is the Colonel okay? After what Singer did? And whatever else is going on." He peered cautiously at Harm. "Completely honest with me, Rabb." Harm breathed a sigh of relief. The Admiral wasn't angry at him about Mac. Actually, this was probably the only time it hadn't been partially his fault. "Am I ever not?" The Admiral frowned and cocked an eyebrow. Harm nodded. "Point taken, sir. I honestly don't know. I was going to drop by her place tonight, check up on her, you know?" "Good. see that she's okay. And if she wants any leave. let her know she does have time owing." "Thank you, sir, I will sir." He offered a crisp salute, then made his exit.
Once out at his car, Harm was quick to leave the JAG parking lot, and pull out into the traffic. The roads were jam full with cars, but Harm, an experienced D.C. driver, knew a nifty little short cut, and managed to get home reasonably quicker than most of the people in the jammed up cars. He hurriedly made his way into his apartment, dumping his briefcase and swapping his uniform for jeans and a polo shirt. He surprised himself with his own eagerness to see Mac. In about seven minutes flat ("That's got to be a record," he thought to himself), he was back in his car and pulling out into the traffic. "Okay, wallet, myself. pizza! Mac likes pizza! Especially with chopped up cow." Harm made a quick turn towards the pizza place. He parked outside the small pizza joint and went inside. He came here fairly regularly, and he knew most of the staff. "Hey, James," he said, smiling at the young man. "Hey, sir," he replied, grinning. Harm's smile widened. "Any more flying stories, sir?" James asked. The eighteen-year-old loved to here Harm's exploits and was much in awe of the older man. "Not today, James. I'm in a hurry. give me a." he pondered at the menu. "Extra large, half vegetarian, half barbecue meatlovers." Hopefully it would be enough meat to keep her happy. "Right away, sir!" James replied eagerly, and placed the order.
Fourteen minutes later, Harm was back out driving, with a delicious smelling pizza on the passenger seat beside him. Well, half of it smelt delicious. The meat bit really reeked in his opinion, but his goal was to cheer Mac up, not to be teased about his vegetarian-ness. He was nearly at Mac's, when he suddenly had another idea. "Videos!" he cried. "We can watch videos!" Coming to a screeching halt and spinning around the wheel to a chorus of beeping horns, he made his way to the local video place. "I really am going all out on this," he mused. But then his thoughts switched to Mac, and it all seemed worthwhile. ***
Meanwhile, completely oblivious to her partner's crazy antics all over town, Mac was curled up on the couch, wet hair tousled. She had stayed in the bath for almost two hours and now she was watching cheap soaps on TV, wearing silky PJ's and resting in a fetal position under a crimson mohair rug. Mac sighed as she watched a pair on TV engage in a passionate kiss. Well, actually it looked more like they were devouring eachother, but she figured it was entertainment to someone. Flicking the TV off, she curled up even more and sighed again. Why did things have to be so complicated?
***
Harm was now standing nervously outside Mac's door. "Knock, Rabb. That's a boy," he tried to psych himself up. He raised a hand. And knocked. Simple. Easy. Until she opened the door, of course.
*** Mac heard a sharp tap on her door. "Go away?" she pleaded with whoever it was out there. They knocked again. "Fine!" she said, getting up and slowly plodding over to the door. Dejectedly, she opened the door, to reveal one Harmon Rabb, Junior, looking very pale. "Harm?" she asked. "Mac?" he said at exactly the same time. "Good to know you remember me," she said, smiling softly. "I um. brought pizza." Harm tentatively smiled at her. She looked blankly back at him. "Oh and videos! I brought videos!" his voice went unusually high. "You're cracking up like a schoolboy, Harm! Get a god damn grip!" he mentally slapped himself. "I can see that," Mac smiled shyly. It then hit her that he was still standing outside. "Come in!" she admonished. He went in and she shut the door behind him. He cautiously placed the pizza and videos on the table, but remained with his back to her. Silence. "So." Mac began. "What videos did you get?" she asked, trying to sound upbeat. "Um, Top Gun and G.I Jane," he answered stiffly, still not turning around. "Harm?" she approached him guardedly. Suddenly, he spun around and gazed at her with an intense, unwavering gaze. "Mac. Look, I know I've tried this once today and it was less than successful and I realise that you probably don't want to talk about this right now but you see I'm your friend and I really happen to care about you and I want to know what's wrong but if you don't want to talk to me well I guess that's your choice, but I'm not leaving until I get something out of you and I am assured you are okay because as I said you are very, very important to me and your wellbeing is a big concern of mine and you probably aren't getting a word of this so I'll be shutting up now," he blurted, stumbling over the words. Mac just stared. Harm stared back. Mac took a deep breath. "We need to talk."
"Harm, why are you here?" she all but whispered.
"I told you."
"In that garbled mess you blurted as you arrived?" she said, turning all the way to face him.
"Yeah. I was kind of hoping you'd catch the general gist," he murmured, standing up and coming over to her. Half of him was egging him on, telling him he was doing the right thing, while the other bit was screaming at him to run.
"I did." Subconsciously, Mac took a step backwards, away from him. She shivered, partly out of the cold air and partly because she was shit scared. Scared of what could happen, what might be said, or. of what might not be said.
Harm didn't stop moving towards her. She backed herself into the kitchen bench and in a brief moment of panic, she realised she had no escape. She had to talk to him. Harm gently laid his hands on her shoulders. She flinched and looked away.
"Mac. look at me. Talk to me. what's wrong?" His eyes bored straight into her, unwavering, uncompromising.
"Harm," she murmured and her voice cracked. "I."
She surprised both of them when she laughed softly. "This is going to sound so stupid."
"Mac, nothing could sound stupid coming from you," Harm flashed her a big, genuine smile, which she readily returned.
"Okay. well, let's sit down and make good with that pizza, shall we?" Pizza would calm her nerves. meat worked for her in that way.
After grabbing plates and serviettes, and commenting (repeatedly) on the quality of the pizza, they both realised it was now or never. Mac placed her half eaten slice of pizza down and rubbed her hands nervously together. Harm nodded to her to begin.
"This is going to sound so, so silly. I'm getting worked up over nothing, really."
"It can't be nothing. it's had you uptight all day," Harm said. "Don't worry, just tell me, please." He placed a supporting hand on her knee.
"Well." she laughed again. "Sorry, I'm so nervous, and it makes me giggle."
Harm made no reply, simply gave her room to breath and compose herself. "Okay. lately, I haven' been getting a lot of sleep. because I've been having," she paused, "dreams." Harm started to speak, but she shushed him with a wave of her hand. "I know what you're thinking - everyone dreams. But my dreams are. different." Mac bit her lower lip and averted her gaze from his. "Are you by any chance referring to your. um," Harm trailed off. "My 'special abilities', yes I am. I'm dreaming every night, I know that, but this is. different. I can feel it. there's something about it that makes me know its something weird. It's almost like it will actually happen." "When did it start?" "About five weeks ago. it hasn't stopped since." Mac sighed and curled up into a tight ball. "Its just me, running from something so big and terrible I can't see straight and I'm just trying to get away but I can't. it's so real. But it never ends. I just keep running until I wake up. I just wish it would end. So I know what happens." She shook her head. "I can't believe I've let it rattle me this much. its kind of silly when you think about it." She smiled softly. "It's not silly, Mac." "You're just saying that. I know this is kind of an anti climax but its really creeping me out." "So what are you going to do?" "I don't know." she shrugged helplessly. Harm frowned, then tentatively reached out to pull her close. To his surprise, she responded, moving closer and burying her head in his shoulder. They remained like that for a while, neither wanting to move. Mac was tempted to break the tender embrace, but she admitted to herself (albeit grudgingly) that it was nice to be held by him like this. Harm's thoughts were running along similar lines. Mac fit so nicely into his arms. He was also reluctant to break his grip on her, but finally she pulled away, wiping several tears off her face. "Oh god," she said, smiling at him. "Look at me, I'm pathetic." Harm gave her a big, open grin. "Anything but pathetic." There was a short, but not uncomfortable silence. "Wanna watch one of the videos?" Mac grinned. "Yeah, okay." she said, snuggling up against him. Harm placed an arm around her shoulders as the opening credits rolled.
*** After watching both videos and playing a very interesting game of Monopoly, in which Harm got his ass absolutely whipped, but refused to admit it, he decided to leave. "Mac. you call me if you need me, okay?" Mac broke into a wide smile. "Sure. hey, thanks Harm." She paused. "For coming over. you made me feel a lot better." "Any time, Mac, any time."
***
Mac let out a slight yelp as she hit the cold, hard floor. She blinked a couple of times before comprehending that in her dream, she had thrown herself on the floor. The sheets were a tangled mess and beads of sweat trickled down her forehead. Still a bit out of it, she put her hand up to grope for her alarm clock.
4 a.m. the dot.
This close! She had been this close to making it through a night without a stupid dream. Mac ground her teeth in frustration and leant her hand back.
"Ah!" she shrieked as she felt something pierce the flesh of her hand. In the dim dawn light seeping through her window, she saw blood coursing down her palm. She then noticed the shards of glass on the floor of her room, the water and the flowers scattered around.
"Oh, god." she muttered as she set about picking up the decimated vase. She must have knocked it over in her troubled sleep.
Her hand was still gushing blood freely. She stood up, ignoring the god- almighty mess she had made on the carpet and went for the first aid box in her kitchen. Slapping on a gauze pad laced with disinfectant and bandaging up her hand, Mac contemplated her next move.
"Harm." she murmured, then immediately reprimanded herself. "Oh, god, he's already been so nice, I can't disturb him." Mac frowned in the near darkness. "Oh, what the fuck have I got to lose?"
Grabbing her car keys and still clad in her silk P.J's, Mac made her way downstairs to her car. Her hand had started bleeding again and she hadn't done a very good bandaging job. Blood was oozing over the upholstery, but she didn't care. Gunning the engine, she roared out of the garage and down the empty streets.
***
As she raced down the streets, taking jack-all notice of the speed limit, she ran the nightmare over in her head. At such a rip-roaring speed, she was outside Harm's in a short space of time.
She bounded into the place, almost running, so urgent was her need to see him. She rammed her good fist hard against his door.
"Harm!" she all but shouted. "Open up!" She whacked the door again. "Come on, dammit!" She threw her entire body at the door. She stepped back to ram it again, when suddenly the door flung open and she was thrown into the room, landing in the arms of a very surprised sailor.
"Woah, Mac!" He righted her and gave her a cursory once over. It didn't take him long to notice her hand.
"Shit, Mac. What have you been doing?" He took her injured hand up in his own and caressed it gently.
"Harm, I need to talk to you." she whispered.
"Yeah, right after we clean this up. This is a bad cut, Mac."
He gripped her shoulders gently and sat her down on his couch. He quickly found the necessary first aid equipment and set about fixing up her hand. He gently wiped away the blood. She flinched at his touch, but kept silent.
"Mac, there's shards of glass in here. Bite your lip, I'm going to try to pull them out." He reached for the tweezers and slowly and carefully began pulling the glass from her shredded palm.
"Ah!" Mac winced and cried out slightly in pain. Although she couldn't see it, Harm winced with her. He hated to see her in pain, any type of pain at all.
"There," he soothed as he wiped away a new spout of blood and did a much more professional bandaging job than Mac's sloppy attempt before.
"Better?" he asked her, smiling as he reached up to push a stray hair from her face. He saw her eyes cloudy with unshed tears, and he didn't think it was from her hand.
"Mac?" he said, forehead wrinkling into a concerned frown.
"Harm." she said, hurriedly brushing back her tears. "It happened again. God, I hate those fucking dreams!" she shouted.
"Same one?" Harm asked soothingly, trying to get her to calm down a bit.
"No. different." Mac took a deep breath, and started to describe her latest nightmare in graphic detail. By the time she had finished, tears were running freely down her face.
She tried fervently to brush them away. "I don't know why I'm crying. heck, their just dreams." She tried to laugh but ended up sobbing harder.
Harm reached out and pulled her close to him. "But we all know where your dreams lead," he murmured, finishing her thought. Mac nodded into his chest.
Neither said anything for the duration of the next few minutes. Harm rocked her slightly, nuzzling her hair softly and whispering nonsensical words. Mac was breathing heavily, reveling in the warmth of his arms.
Finally, she raised her head and pulled out of the embrace. "I'm so sorry about this Harm. Laying my crap ass hang ups on you." she smiled weakly.
"Hey, we all need someone to lay our 'crap ass hang ups' on."
"I'm glad your there for me." "I'm glad I'm there for you too."
They remained in silence for a moment, then Harm broke the silence.
"Mac. you mentioned in your dream. a face of someone in a lot of pain and you said you think that something might happen to them. who was it?"
"What?" asked Mac, suddenly sitting up. Harm saw a shockwave of tension race through her body.
"I just wanted to know." Harm trailed off as she pulled even further away from him. She stood up and walked to the window, dropping her hands to rest on the sill and drooping her head sadly.
"Mac." Harm came up behind her, but remained a good three feet away, giving her room to think.
"You're going to think this is crazy." she began.
"I haven't thought any of this is crazy so far." he countered.
Mac suddenly spun to face him. "It was Uncle Matt, Harm. It was his face and I can't help thinking something's going to happen to him."
She looked at him cautiously. "You think I'm nuts, don't you." Her voice wasn't outright accusing, but her tone was flat and cold.
"Well, Mac, I mean." he searched for the right words, so as not to offend her. "Come on! He's in Leavenworth, Mac! It's a maximum-security prison. how is anyone going to get in and hurt him there?"
"You think I'm nuts," she repeated quietly. "Now I remember why I don't come to you for help," she snapped.
Harm opened his mouth to protest, but she flashed a bandaged hand in his face.
"Shut it," she growled as she stalked out of his apartment.
"Shit," Harm muttered as he sank dejectedly down onto the couch, where only moments before, he had been this close to telling her how he felt.
"He was right - you are crazy," Mac muttered savagely. "And a bitch," she added.
She hadn't even realised that she had pulled over. Which was probably fortunate as she began banging the wheel and hurling abuse at herself.
"You worthless, useless, stupid bitch!"
Harm had not deserved the treatment she had given him - after he had been so concerned and worried about her. God, she was an idiot. He actually, for some reason she couldn't work out, *cared* about her.
"But no," she said sardonically, "throw it back in his god-damn face."
Mac sighed and looked to the left. A series of flashing lights let up a set of words she didn't need to see right now.
Tavern.
Open 24 hours.
"Oh, shit," Mac murmured as she bit her lip. She had tried so hard to fight her drinking - so hard! And she had damn near beaten it too! But in her current state, the temptation was too much.
She didn't care that she was barefoot.
She didn't care that she looked like hell.
She didn't care that she was wearing only a pair of silk pajamas.
She unbuckled her seatbelt and walked straight into the tavern. As she walked in, three sets of eyes trained on her. The bartender, obviously up to here with all the weirdoes he got on the graveyard shift. A woman, in a tight skirt and way to much makeup - obviously a prostitute, and a man with lots of stubble, a cigarette and sunken eyes. She guessed he belonged to the truck out front.
They didn't give her a second glance. In a place like this at five in the morning, a pajama clad Marine probably was the least strange thing they got in here.
She bellied up to the bar.
"Whaddya want?" drawled the bartender, leering over the bar at her.
"Scotch - straight up," Mac said. She sighed. What was she doing?
Drinking.
No shit.
Talking to herself.
Damn.
The bartender served her scotch. She downed it in a single go, not feeling much at all.
"More," she said.
The bartender raised his eyebrows, as he obliged.
And Mac didn't remember terribly much after that.
***
It was about an hour later when she stumbled out, pissed as all hell.
She dragged herself into her car. Yes, her judgement was off and she was nauseous, but she was still going to go to work.
She pulled out of the curb and nearly smacked into an oncoming vehicle.
"Outta my way, you fucking asshole!" she shrieked at him. She was racing down the road, about fifteen miles over the limit.
She pulled into her place and put on her uniform. It was unkempt and messy but she didn't care. She dragged a comb through her hair and overdid the lipstick a bit, but she was beyond caring.
***
Then it was back to the car and out into the morning traffic. She shouted abuse at the morning drivers, swearing and honking her horn atrociously. Somehow though, she made it to JAG without having an accident or ripping the guy tailing her throat from his chest.
She stormed upstairs to the office, shooting death stares at anyone who bothered to come anywhere near her. As she entered the bullpen, Sturgis cut a path across the room towards her.
"Mac! Good morning!" he said cheerfully.
"Shut up," she said, stalking into her office and slamming the door so hard that all the blinds rattled.
Sturgis stood there with his eyebrows raised.
"O-kay!" He was somewhat rattled. Sturgis saw Harm out of the corner of his eye. He walked over to him.
"Harm! How badly did you stuff up?"
"No good morning?" quipped the handsome Commander. "What are you talking about?"
"Uh, you promise me you won't tell me to shut up?"
"What?" Harm asked, not liking where this was heading.
"Mac. She walks in looking like hell with a storm cloud hanging over her head, I say 'good morning' and she tells me to shut up, before stalking off into her office." Sturgis frowned. "Harm? I'm talking to you, earth to Harm."
But Harm wasn't listening. Sturgis spun and followed his line of sight. Harriet was approaching Mac's office with a stack of papers, completely unaware of the Colonel's heck of a mood.
"Oh, god," both men murmured in one breath.
***
Harriet smiled as she knocked on the Colonel's door.
"Enter," came a barely audible voice from within.
Harriet entered.
"What?" snapped Mac, glaring at the younger woman.
"Your files ma'am. With all due respect, are you all right?"
"I am fine, Lieutenant! What gives you the right, you miserable excuse for a junior officer to question me?" Mac's face was contorted in a savage snarl as she walked menacingly towards Harriet. "Now get the fuck out of my way!"
"Mac!" Harm roared, advancing over to her. Harriet turned away, tears clouding her eyes. Sturgis patted her softly on the back, looking absolutely shocked. Singer watched on, a catty smirk on her face.
"What, you asshole?" countered Mac. The whole office had stopped.
Harm was inches away from her now, he could smell the horrible stench of alcohol on her breath.
"You've been drinking." He hadn't for it to sound accusing, but there was really no other way of saying it.
"And what if I have?" she snapped, voice laced with venom.
"I think you need to leave and sober up," he said, trying to keep his voice low. He didn't want to embarrass her in front of the office, but she was in a very dangerous and unpredictable state.
"I think you can just SHUT YOUR FUCKING TRAP!" she roared at him, bringing up her good hand and backhanding him across the face.
Tiner had dropped his phone and the tinny voice of an agitated SecNav could be heard echoing around the office - it was the sole sound in the room.
The Admiral's jaw had dropped about five feet.
Harriet stood absolutely stock still, eyes wide, mouth agape and tears from Mac's previous outburst drying on her flushed cheeks.
Sturgis, arm still on Harriet's shoulder, was struck absolutely dumb.
Even Singer couldn't think of a single remark.
But Harm was in the greatest shock off all. His cheek stung painfully - Mac was a force to be reckoned with - but that was the least of his worries.
She had hit him.
She had really, deliberately hit him.
Mac slowly took a step back. She could see a large red mark on the side of Harm's face. He wasn't even looking at her.
The whole office was still paused in a freeze frame.
"I," she faltered, breaking the silence.
Harm finally looked up at her. She had expected to see a million emotions in his eyes - anger, hate, pain.
None of them.
No shameful glances at her, no accusing stare. No disappointment, no pity.
Nothing.
Just steady, unwavering gaze.
Then he turned away.
Sobered up slightly by such a shock, Mac could do nothing but stare plaintively after him.
"Harm!" she cried desperately. She just wanted something, not the blankness he had given her.
"Harm!" she all-but screamed. "Please, Harm."
His office door slammed.
Mac shut her eyes.
When she opened them, the whole office still had not wavered from its freeze-frame.
Mac looked up at all of them. "I," she murmured, then hung her head in shame as she lost any words to say. Slowly she walked out of the office.
***
She knew she was in no state to drive, so she caught the first bus that came anywhere near where she was standing.
She fumbled around for enough change to ride - fortunately, she had just enough.
Mac staggered slightly as she made her way towards the back of the bus. She sat listlessly, staring blankly out the window. Her mind was completely, utterly blank.
She knew that would all change quickly enough - a blinding headache and the horrible memory of what she had done would all come seeping back to torture her mind. For the moment, the blankness was bliss. She leant her head against the window.
The bus continued on down the road.
***
Harm sat, dumbstruck, in his chair. His cheek hurt like crazy.
Mac had broken. She had actually turned to the drink to solve her problems. He didn't know what to do.
Part of him was angry with her.
Part of him was hurting for her.
Part of him was guilty, for not respecting her emotions more.
But she still had no right to have done what she had done. He had been so close to thumping her back, to knock a bit of sense into her, but he knew full well what would've happened. He had already been partially to blame for bringing back her old drinking associations, he wasn't going to bring back the rest of her traumatic past.
He was still left with the problem of what to do. He didn't know what he would do if she came to him again. Harm sighed.
Suddenly, Sturgis' concerned face popped around the door.
"Harm?"
"Yeah?" he answered, half-heartedly.
"Are you okay?" Sturgis' dark eyes were concerned.
"Yeah. Is Harriet?"
"She'll be right. What the heck just happened?"
"She was drunk," Harm sighed.
"I know." Sturgis frowned. Harm had told him about Mac's infamous past history. "What are you going to do?"
"I don't know, Sturgis. She turned to the drink because she thought I thought she was crazy, and all this emotional stuff is sending her to pieces. I don't know."
Sturgis frowned again.
Harm started talking again, avoiding Sturgis' gaze and focusing on the filing cabinet behind him.
"I hope she's alright. I really do. God knows what she'll get up to. I should find her. I don't think she's crazy."
Sturgis just nodded, not entirely sure what had happened in their conversation. "You do that, Harm."
Harm looked up. "I'll go find her," he repeated, with more conviction this time. "But I think I better finish work first."
Sturgis agreed. There was a brief moment's silence.
"Hey, thanks, Sturgis."
"I didn't do anything."
Harm smiled. "Still, thanks."
Sturgis clapped him on the back. "Anytime, Rabb." He noted the bruising along Harm's jaw.
"Oohwee! Mac packs quite a punch."
Harm had to smile at that. "That's my girl."
***
Mac had chosen a bus that stopped more or less outside her place. She would worry about her car in the morning. Right now, she wanted to sleep off the alcohol.
She trudged upstairs, tears rolling softly down her face.
She had hit Harm.
Her Harm, her friend, her confidante, her colleague, her sailor, her everything. She hated herself. Everything about herself.
She burst into the apartment and overturned her entire coffee table. On a complete, mindless rampage, she went into the bathroom and proceeded to smash the mirror so she couldn't see her hated reflection. She smashed some more things onto the floor, then sank down, sobbing terribly.
She sobbed on the cold, hard floor for hours, until finally, fatigue overcame her and she drifted off into a troubled sleep.
***
Mac was woken up by the ringing of her phone. She raised her head groggily and slowly made her way into her somewhat decimated living room.
Her nifty internal clock told her that it was 4:15 and 29 seconds exactly. She had been asleep for about ten hours.
She reached out a hand and pulled the receiver to her mouth. "Mackenzie," she said flatly.
"Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie?" answered a crisp female voice on the other end.
"Yes," Mac replied.
"My name is Jacqueline Parker. I am calling regarding a Colonel Matt O'Hara."
"Uncle Matt," Mac whispered, more to herself than anything. "What about Uncle Matt?" she asked louder. "He's in Leavenworth."
"Yes," Parker paused. "You are a relative?"
"What? Yes!"
Mac listened as Parker slowly went on, trying desperately to comprehend what was happening.
There was an ominous silence as Parker finished speaking.
Mac took a deep breath, steadying breath.
"Oh, my god..."
