"Rabb! Get McKenzie and get in here now!"

Harm glanced down at the now silent intercom and shook his head, suppressing a grin at the gruffness he was so used to by now. Tossing down his pen, he rose and took a handful of strides across the bullpen to Mac’s office. Casually, he tapped on the door.

"What’s up?" she asked distractedly, barely glancing up from the report she was working on.

"Admiral wants to see us ASAP," he answered.

She looked up again then back at the report before laying her pen down with a sigh. "Always at the most inopportune time," she muttered.

Harm chuckled as she rose from her desk and joined him.

"What did we do now?" she asked in a pseudo-whisper.

"I have no idea," he shrugged.

Tiner ushered them into the Admiral’s office immediately and they waited for him to acknowledge their presence. A.J. stood in front of the window, a file open in his big hands. After a couple of minutes, he looked up at them.

"At ease. I have an assignment for you. You’re going to Twentynine Palms where you’ll be undercover." He held up one hand when Harm started to protest, silencing the younger man. "I know you’re both on heavy caseloads. Anything that isn’t immediate will be handled by your juniors and those that are waiting to go I’ll reassign. This is important or I wouldn’t pull you mid-stride this way." He moved to sit behind his desk and tossed the file across the wide expanse to Harm. "Five men have died in the last month on the base. Brain aneurysm, cardiac arrest, internal hemorrhaging and various other causes. Nothing out of the ordinary on its own but these particular men were all young, healthy and beat to hell at the time of death."

"’Beat to hell’?" Mac quoted. "As in beat up?"

"Yes, Colonel – as in beat up. All five were extensively battered. However, no one seems to know the cause. It was enough raise the suspicions of the hospital staff who alerted the involved commanders who alerted us. I want you to find out what’s going on."

"Why the need to go undercover?" Harm questioned.

"I’ve seen some things, Commander, during my years and what I see in that file gives me an ugly suspicion. I think there’s a fight club going on at MCAGCC. And if that turns out to be the case then I want it stopped before anyone else gets killed."

"Aye, sir," Harm responded, not having to ask what a fight club was.

"Gunny’s got your flight arrangements. You’ll leave tomorrow. When you get to the base you’re to meet with Colonel Ava Hollister. Dismissed."

"Aye, sir."

"Yes, sir."

Outside of his office, the two exchanged a look. "This is going to be interesting," Harm muttered.

"You’re not kidding," Mac answered.

Harm and Mac drove through the front gate and followed the Corporal’s directions to the office building that housed Colonel Hollister. Harm was dressed in fatigues and wore the mark of a Gunnery Sergeant – one he was familiar with having carried it on a past undercover assignment. Mac was in her regular uniform minus her oak leaves and she was now Petty officer 2^nd Class assigned to the Staff Judge Advocate office.

Colonel Hollister was the second in command on the base but she greeted them with warmth that belied her status. Closing her office door behind the pair, she indicated the chairs facing her desk before seating herself behind it.

"I assume Admiral Chegwidden filled you in on our situation?" she began, her eyes troubled.

"Yes, ma’am," Mac answered, studying the older woman.

She was as tall as Mac herself with what appeared to be very long sable hair if the heavy bun at the back of her head was any indication. Her eyes were a startling shade of bright green enhanced by the tiny laugh lines at the corners that other women might see as sign of age.

"The Admiral is concerned that a fight club is underway here," Harm interjected.

Ava sighed. "And he is probably right. I’ve known Admiral Chegwidden for many years and he’s seldom wrong about things. Especially of this nature. Marines tend to be very hotheaded and arrogant, as you well know, Colonel MacKenzie. I’m afraid that’s exactly what they’re doing to let off steam. I will not tolerate this sort of thing under my command and if that’s in fact what’s happening here then it has to be stopped. I’ve lost five men in 30 days. That’s abhorrent and without just cause. A.J. assures me that if anyone can get to the bottom of this it will be you two," she stated evenly, her gaze direct.

"We’ll do our very best, Colonel," Harm promised.

"I’m sure you will. Petty Officer McCall will take you to your quarters. You’ll report to your individual duty areas tomorrow morning at 0800. I don’t know how you conduct your investigations, Commander, Colonel, but I know you’ll let me know if my assistance is needed."

"Yes, ma’am, we will," Harm assured her. "For now we want to get on the inside and see what shakes loose."

"Fair enough. If you have no further questions, I know you must be tired from traveling and ready for dinner."

"It’s been awhile since we were here last," Harm commented.

The two sat on a bench, studying the multitude of stars overhead in the clear night sky.

"That’s a time in my life I’d just as soon forget," Mac answered and he heard the reproach in her voice.

"It was a learning experience," Harm commented. "And at least you came back. It could have been worse. The Admiral could have turned in your resignation instead of hanging on to it and giving you time to reconsider," he teased gently.

"True," Mac conceded.

"Just don’t go trying to save the world without me, flyboy," she shot back.

"Me?" he gasped with feign indignation. "You’re the one about to be surrounded by fellow Jarheads. Just don’t get any crazy ideas," he shook his finger at her.

"We’ll see who has the crazy ideas," Mac answered primly. "Don’t you forget your name," she added.

"At least it’s something I’m used to using," he retorted.

For the duration of the investigation, he was now Harmon MacKenzie and Mac would go by Sarah and would be borrowing Bud and Harriet’s last name.

"And remember to call me Sarah," she told him gently, a light in her eyes he was trying hard not to see.

"Good morning, Gunnery Sergeant, sir!"

Corporal before him.

"Corporal Wesley. At ease," he answered. "I understand you’re to be my aide?" Harm asked.

"Yes, sir. "

"Good. Right now I’m going out to the ranges to get a feel for things. Back to your duties, Corporal."

"Yes, sir."

Harm followed the hall to the outdoor ranges to where the Unit Specific Marksmanship Training was going on. There were seven ranges where everything from moving target practice to military police shotgun training was going on. Shoving in his earplugs, Harm tugged the brim of his hat a little lower and strode out. For several minutes he stood and watched. The men he could see were young, probably all Corporal status or younger. Toward the far end of the range a group of four stood together talking. Harm’s gaze narrowed on them. If there were indeed a fight club, its members would have certain attitudes. Usually hot tempered and short on good judgement. If he had any chance of getting into the club he had to find a way to show he had the right ‘attitude’ as well.

He strode to the end of the range, his strides long and purposeful. He stopped a foot away and planted his hands on his hips.

"Last time I checked this was a target range not a chat room!" he barked.

Three of the four men spun around and came to attention but the fourth stood idle, his hands shoved in the pockets of his BDUs.

"Yes, sir, Gunnery Sergeant!" The first three resounded.

Harm glared at the fourth. "Sergeant…" he stepped toe-to-toe with the younger man. "Glenn, do you feel your rank prohibits you from attention?!" Harm bellowed loud enough to make any drill sergeant proud. He also drew the attention of the others on the range.

"No, sir, Gun-ner-y Sergeant," Sergeant Glenn drawled insolently.

"That’s Gunnery Sergeant MacKenzie, soldier! And don’t you forget it! You’ve got two seconds to come to proper attention before I drop you like a stone!" Harm ordered.

"Obviously you’re new here, Gunny," Sergeant Glenn continued, ignoring the command. "We take our orders from Sergeant Major Eichen."

"Let me make this very clear to you, Sergeant Glenn. You will come to attention, salute me and follow any orders I might give you or I promise you will find yourself on the wrong of Leavenworth’s walls!"

By now the others were trying to back away, obviously sure they wanted to avoid the approaching fray. Glenn laughed sardonically and undercover or not, Harm saw red. Faster than a blink, his fist shot out, catching Glenn square in the jaw. The other man hit the ground with a dull thud and for a split second no one moved or spoke. Harm bent at the waist and caught him by the shirtfront, jerking him back to his feet.

"Consider yourself duly warned, Sergeant," Harm spat. "Another incident like this and you will find yourself under arrest for insubordination! Do you understand?!" Harm demanded, clearly enunciating each word as if speaking to a child.

"Yes, sir, Gunnery Sergeant!" Glenn answered, reluctance dripping from every word.

Harm released him with a snap of his wrists, causing him to stumble backward. Then he turned to face the attention of the others that stood frozen, watching.

"I am Gunnery Sergeant MacKenzie! I am in command of this unit – not Sergeant Major Eichen. Is that clear?!"

"Yes, sir, Gunnery Sergeant, sir!" The men answered in unison.

"Now I suggest you get back to your training!"

"Yes, sir!"

Harm strode briskly from the range and back inside where he small office was located. Closing the door behind him, he took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and picked up the phone, punching in the extension he knew would reach Mac.

"It’s me," he muttered without preamble.

"What’s wrong?" she asked sharply, immediately picking up his agitation.

"Just a minor mishap on the range. But I just made my presence known in a big way. I need you to check out two names."

"Go," Mac answered.

"Master Sergeant Eichen and Sergeant Glenn. Both MTU."

"I’ll do it right now. Give me a few minutes," she ordered and hung up.

Harm went to the broad set of windows that overlooked the range and studied the men. They were all at practice now – even Glenn – but he could see the dark-haired man talking to another soldier that Harm hadn’t seen when he was out there. The phone rang and he snatched it up.

"MacKenzie."

"You don’t know how funny that sounds coming from you," Mac teased.

"Ha ha, very funny," Harm drawled. "What’d you find out?"

"Eichen is on administrative leave pending our investigation. It’s not in the file the Admiral had for us but I called Colonel Hollister. Three of the men who died were under Eichen’s command. Sergeant Glenn is a loose cannon. He’s been in trouble more than once but always seems to find a way out of it. Most notably with the backing of Eichen," she explained.

"I see," Harm answered slowly, his suspicions mounting. "Thanks, Mac."

"You’re welcome, Sailor."

Harm was put into a room by himself in the barracks for which he was glad for. A little investigation revealed that Glenn and some of his cronies were on the second floor of the three-story building. Harm had dinner with Mac and then they went for a walk around the immediate grounds before retiring to their individual barracks. Now he was sitting in an armchair with a book thinking about going to bed and an envelope came sailing beneath the closed door.

He sat there for a second, staring at it before rising slowly. He bent and scooped it up in one big hand. Ripping open the flap, he pulled out a single sheet and unfolded it.

Intrigued, Harm read the note again. Crossing the room, he picked up the phone.

"I just got my summons," he stated as soon as she picked up the phone.

"Need backup?" Mac asked casually.

"No, ma’am. I’m to go to the back of the Sergeant’s Course at 0100 to hear about a mutually beneficial partnership."

"Oooh," Mac teased. "Sure it’s not some blonde?" she asked, only partially teasing as thoughts of Renee immediately surfaced.

"No," he retorted. "It’s not some blonde. And no, I don’t want you out there this time. If something happened to you I’d have to explain it to Brumby," he answered sarcastically.

"Don’t trouble yourself," Mac stated flatly and hung up on him.

"Damn it," Harm cursed, dropping the phone back in its cradle. "When am I going to learn?" he asked himself. "Our friendship right now is rocky at best but just the thought of Brumby touching…" he broke off abruptly. "Well this isn’t the time for that," he reminded himself in the stillness of the room as he went to dress.

At 0100 he made his way through the darkened grounds to the rear of the course. Harm moved slowly, watching for any sign of movement. The air was still and heavy with the threat of an impending storm. A shadow caught his eye and he swung his head to the left.

"Seems you follow orders real well, Gunny."

Harm stiffened at the voice. "Glenn," he acknowledged.

"You interested in a little side game, Gunny?" Glenn asked him.

"What makes you think you can hold my interest?" Harm countered.

"Oh, I don’t think it will be a problem," Glenn answered slyly. "Follow me and you’ll find out."

Harm did just that and was led around the corner to a door. The inside resembled an arena of sorts where various obstacles were set up for the men participating in the Sergeant’s course. The only light was provided by the closest office. In the shadows it threw stood at least a dozen other men. A couple Harm recognized from that afternoon on the range.

"You got the kinda attitude we like, Gunny," Glenn told him. "Me and my friends here – we have us a little side business going. We think you might decide to join us."

"Depends on what…"

Before Harm could finish his sentence two of the men from the group were on him, tumbling all three to the floor in a tangle. Regaining his footing, Harm came up swinging. He caught sight of Glenn moving out of the way as the other two rushed him again. Harm swung his right fist at the one closest, driving him to his knees then swung out and sent the second reeling backward with a roundhouse to the chest. Assuming a boxing stance with his fists before him, Harm faced the moved as they advanced on him.

They traded punches, sparring back and forth and he realized in the back of his mind that they seemed to be testing him. He certainly couldn’t take them all at once but they came in pairs, forcing him to use a little of everything he knew from combat training to kickboxing.

The fighting went on until Harm lost track of time. Swaying, he struggled to stay upright, swiping his forearm across his face to get the blood that was trickling into his eye.

"Stop!" Glenn called suddenly.

Harm’s opponents cleared away as fast as they’d come and Glenn walked over to Harm. Breathing heavily, Harm let his arms drop to his sides, exhausted, his head pounding furiously.

"Not bad for an old man," Glenn jeered. "I knew you’d make a good addition today when you knocked me down. We want you to join our club, Gunny. Just to show there’s no pressure we’ll let you think about it for a couple of days. Make your decision and be here at 0100 Friday. That’s two days," he added, speaking as if Harm were dense.

Judging from his tone of voice, Harm got the feeling he wasn’t being given a choice at all. "I think I can remember that," Harm panted sarcastically.

"See that you do. Night, Gunny," Glenn bid with a mock salute.

He and the rest of his cronies turned to leave but he paused and looked back at Harm. "By the way, you might like to bring that hot little fox you’ve been keeping company with."

Drawing a slow breath, Harm winced as pain stabbed him in the ribcage. Grabbing the tail of his T-shirt, he drew it up to wipe blood away. Slowly, he made his way out of the building. He made it to his room without anyone seeing him, including the CQ desk and called Mac.

"Harm?" she asked, her voice slurred with sleep.

"Can you come over here?" he asked, the words muffled by a split lip.

"I’ll be right there," she promised.

She rapped lightly on his door less than 15 minutes later and he called for her to come in. She closed the door behind her, turned and gasped aloud.

"Harm! Oh, my, God! What happened?" she demanded, rushing across the room to him.

"The ‘club’ happened to me. I believe I was just initiated without even realizing it."

Briefly he told her about the meeting and the ensuing boxing match.

"This is barbaric," she snapped, reaching gently for the ice pack he held against his eye.

"Grown men have been fighting each other for years to prove their manhood," he answered, trying to make light of the situation and ignore how close she was standing.

"It’s stupid," she retorted flatly.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed.

"Look at your face," she moaned softly. "Come into the bathroom and let me clean you up," she ordered, tugging on his hand.

Harm followed her into the tiny bathroom and lowered his tall frame to the commode. There was a first aid kit mounted on the wall behind the door that Mac rummaged through, gathering bandages and antiseptic. She turned back to the sink and ran a washcloth under the cold water before turning back to him.

Harm kept his gaze focused on the wall past her shoulder as she stepped between his spread legs to tend to his face. Tenderly, her small hand cupped his jaw, tilting his head up to the light.

"This is an improvement to your usual handsome self," she teased, trying to ignore how bad he looked and how it made her heart pound.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed, glancing at her.

Their eyes met and her hand stilled at the task of wiping blood away.

"I forgot to tell you something," he murmured, his gaze intent.

"What?" she asked, cursing herself at how breathless she sounded.

"I was ordered to bring the hot little fox I’ve been hanging around the base with to the first meeting Friday."

Mac stared at him for a second as comprehension dawned. "Hot little fox?" she echoed. "Pigs," she muttered disgustedly.

Harm chuckled and caught her hand, pressing it to his face for an instant as his eyes held hers. "They were right," he stated gently.

Mac swallowed hard, caught by the look in his dark eyes. Lately… well, lately there’d been a lot of looks like that. And they made her forget all about Renee and all about Mic moving back to D.C. Reluctantly, Harm released her fingers and she diverted her attention back to his cuts.

"How are you going to explain this?" she asked.

"I’ll tell them I ran into a door in the dark," he muttered dryly.

She laughed very softly and gently smoothed antibiotic cream into the inch long cut above his eye that bisected his brow. She also dabbed the white cream into the split at the left corner of his mouth and the one in the center. When the pad of her finger stroked over the fullness of his bottom lip, both of them froze. No more than a half dozen inches stood between them and at the same time both began to realize just how tenuous their current position was.

Harm’s hands came up slowly to grasp her upper arms, preventing her from moving away. Mac was aware of the heat emanating from him. Of the feel of his mouth under her fingers, of the almost feral look in his eyes. The tension building in the room was almost palpable. Mac felt transported back to the ferry when she’d been searching desperately for some sign of his feelings. Now, the way he was looking at her was almost scary in its intensity. She felt him move and felt herself being pulled closer. The hand holding the tube of cream dropped for balanced and landed on the warm skin where his neck and shoulder met. Her fingertips rested wholly on his face, feeling the stubble of the day’s growth on his jaw.

His eyes darkened marginally, studying her, catching the tiny movement as her tongue snaked out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. Harm felt himself losing grip of his control. All his good intentions to remain at a comfortable distance from her. His fingers tightened almost hurtfully on her arms and he eased her closer to him. Her balance shifted and her other hand landed against the base of his neck. Another tug threw her completely off balance and she brought one knee down on his thigh to keep from falling against him. Shifting the slightest bit, Harm lifted himself toward her. Here in this world they weren’t bound by protocol. Maybe for just a few minutes Harm could forget that she was his partner.

"Forget what?" she murmured breathlessly.

Harm realized he’d spoken the words aloud. Only an inch separated them now. "Forget that we’re partners. Forget about JAG. Forget about rank and Renee and Brumby and everything else. That’s what you asked me to do once," he whispered.

"That’s right," she confirmed, angling her head down. "That’s what I asked you to do."

And on the heel of her softly spoken answer, Harm raised his hands to her face and tilted her head slightly, waiting now only to cross the last centimeter to her mouth.

Their lips barely met and clung for what seemed like forever. Tentatively, he kissed her, barely maintaining the contact of their mouths. Mac felt the slightest trembling in the hands resting against her face and knew he was holding himself in check. The minute his mouth touched hers, Mac knew she was home. She lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck and slightly parted her lips against the curve of his mouth. And that was all it took for both of them to let go. Harm moved marginally and slid his arms around her slender waist, shifting their positions until Mac was straddling his hard legs. His hands moved restlessly up her back, catching in the silky strands of her hair. Mac slid her fingers into the coolness of his dark hair and held him to her, squirming to get closer. Years of denial and longing, of subterfuge and craving, fell away in a single heartbeat. Their mouths melded and the kiss grew in proportion until it blocked everything else out. It was a fever in their blood and they couldn’t get close enough. Hands grasped and bodies strained closer.

Suddenly they broke apart and their eyes locked. Breathing hard, they remained still for several long moments. Mac’s fingers curled into fists in his shirt and Harm’s hands clutched at her hips, holding her close. By degrees, they both became aware of how precarious the situation was. Reluctantly, Mac eased herself back a bit, holding onto him for balance.

"Ummm…" she stuttered softly, at a loss for words.

"Mac…" he began, not sure what to say.

But his eyes were saying a whole lot and suddenly, Mac wasn’t sure of what they were doing and it made her angry at herself.

"What was that? A heat of the moment?" she demanded, her voice low and tight.

"What?" Harm blinked, caught by surprise.

Mac pushed herself away from him. "I don’t appreciate being used as a substitute, Harm. If you need a fix that bad maybe you should have Renee fly down!" she stated and stalked out of the bathroom.

Harm heard the outer door close and for several minutes could only sit there and wonder what the hell just happened, a stunned look on his face. He started to get up but then slowly sank back down.

"How on earth could you think you’re a substitute?" he wondered aloud.

Colonel Hollister was in Harm’s office the next morning to see the damage herself.

"The Colonel was right," she murmured. "You did take quite a beating."

Harm managed a grin around his swollen bottom lip. "Yes, ma’am. But I think I held my own," he tried to lighten the situation a bit.

"Yes, Commander. I can see that. So our suspicions were correct," she mused, pacing the small office.

"Yes, ma’am," Harm answered again. "They have a meet at 0100. Mac and I are both supposed to be there."

Ava sighed. "I hope you know what you’re doing, Commander Rabb. I don’t want anymore deaths on my base."

"I know, Colonel Hollister, and we’re doing our best to prevent that."

Mac slipped into Harm’s room thirty minutes before they were due to meet the others in the ‘club’ and found him getting ready. He spared her a quick glance as he tied his tennis shoes. He was dressed in a tracksuit with the Marine emblem crossing the back and front pocket.

"This makes up for all the times I’ve had to borrow your Navy shirts," Mac murmured, a small smile at her lips.

He grinned, unrepentant at her. "Hey, what can I say?" he shrugged carelessly. "They always look better on you than me." He walked the few feet to her and stopped. "We’ve been ignoring what happened and if you want to keep it that way it’s okay but I don’t like the way we’ve been since it happened. I can’t work like this and wonder what you’re thinking or about the tension in the air," he admitted softly.

"I can’t either," she confessed, reaching out to touch his hand. "We have to concentrate on what we’re doing here and now," she reminded gently. "And not about how we feel or anything else that’s happening in our lives. But would you promise me one thing, Harm?" she asked.

"What?"

"That we’ll talk when we get home?"

His eyes bore in hers for an instant. "I promise," he murmured.

Her gaze cleared slightly and she released his hand after one more squeeze. "Let’s go."

The training area was dark as they approached. The side door was unlocked and they slipped inside. Just then several spotlights clicked on, illuminating a mat in the center of the floor. Harm squeezed Mac’s hand, still looking ahead.

"Ready for our act?" he whispered under his breath.

"Ready," she answered.

Wrapping one arm around her shoulders, Harm drew her against his side and they started forward, taking in the room as Glenn and several other men came out of the shadows.

"Evening, Gunny. Hey, little fox – at least our Gunny followed his orders and brought you. Now he has a cheering section," Glenn sneered.

Mac simply stared evenly at the man, choosing not to answer him.

"You want to tell me what this is all about?" Harm questioned, his voice flat and cold.

"I think you know, Gunny. You did a fine job proving yourself the other night. Welcome to the club," Glenn stated.

There were about twenty other men gathered, all seemingly younger than Harm and dressed in various states that included fatigue bottoms and undershirts.

"We have guests tonight, gentlemen," Glenn went on, looking around at the group. "So we want to put on our best show. $50,000 to the last man standing."

Harm and Mac both looked covertly around and finally made out the barest edges of several silhouettes sitting in a section of chairs. Harm looked down at his partner then back to Glenn.

"Let’s get it to it, men," the younger man ordered and stepped back.

Harm and Mac moved to the edges as well and watched as two men faced each other on the mat.

"For the benefit of the Gunny, I’ll recap the rules. There are no rules. You fight until you go down and can’t get back up. Got it, Gunny?"

"I got it," Harm growled, disliking this situation more and more.

Without further hesitation, the two men in the center started fighting. And it was quickly apparent to Harm and Mac that they weren’t watching the garden-variety boxing match. This was dirty street fighting. Harm stripped off his jacket and handed it to Mac, their eyes never leaving the fighting.

"Harm," she hissed. "This is insane!"

"We’ll never get to the bottom of this if we don’t get closer to them," Harm told her. "I’ll be fine – promise."

"Hey, Gunny! You’re up after the first fall! Better get your good luck kiss!" Glenn called from across the mat.

Mac and Harm looked at each other.

"Now what?" she demanded.

"Guess you’ll just have to kiss me," he teased, trying to ignore all the sensations the thought raised.

"Oh, for…" Mac muttered crossly and then caught him off guard by grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him down to touch his mouth.

Amid the catcalls and the grunts from the men fighting, Harm and Mac kissed, their intent to put on a show for those watching but somehow getting lost in the process by their own feelings. Mac jerked away as fast as she’d moved in and winked at him sassily.

"Kick ass, Jarhead," she purred loud enough for the others to hear.

Harm gave her his biggest flyboy grin. "Anything for you, baby."

Several minutes later, Harm was the one fighting – his first opponent the victor of the first go-around. Blocking his mind to everything but the younger soldier he was facing, Harm marshaled all his strength and finally beat the man down until he couldn’t get back up. Breathing heavily and smarting from the many blows he’d taken, Harm dropped his fist and faced the group. Without giving him anytime to rest, another stepped forward. And so it went.

Mac watched from the side, biting her lip until she tasted blood. Wanting to call out to him or go to his aide but knowing she had to stand her ground and wait it out. She could tell he was hurting. He’d fought four men already – guys younger and stronger with quicker reflexes but somehow he’d managed to down them all. There was something to be said for experience and he certainly had that. Her eyes went to the group watching them and wandered about their identities. She turned her attention back to Harm who was facing his fifth antagonist. He hit the man square in the face and catapulted him to the mat. As he struggled to get up, Harm grabbed him by the throat and hit him again. Worn beyond exhaustion, his mind shut down, his only thought to keep this one from getting back up. He hit him again – once, twice – a third time before he realized he’d beat him unconscious. Letting him go, Harm stepped back, swiping at the blood running down his face.

"Well done, Gunny! Looks like you’re our winner! Not bad, old man, not bad at all," Glenn whistled as he clapped his hands insolently. He looked at a couple of the others and jerked his head toward the unconscious man on the floor. "Take care of him," he ordered and they stepped in to do his bidding. "Here’s your pay off, Gunny. You got two days to rest before we go again. I think I’m gonna like having you on the team," he chuckled. "You got good potential."

Harm glared at him, tempted to grab the cocky sergeant and beat him down like the others he’d just fought. But instead of saying anything, he simply took the envelope Glenn held out and staggered off the mat, practically falling into Mac’s waiting arms. Worry knitted her brow as she held on to him, letting him use her for a crutch.

"Let’s get the hell out of here," she whispered, steering him toward the door and momentarily forgetting all about the men behind them.

The trip back to the barracks was slow and painful and Mac grew more worried by the minute. Harm’s breathing was labored and he could barely stand up.

"You need to go to the hospital," she murmured.

"Can’t," he answered, his voice slurred. "Be fine. Let’s jus’ get home," he muttered.

Mac got the door to his room open several minutes later and they stumbled into the dark interior. Shutting the door with her hip, she reached for the light switch, flooding the small room as she guided him to the bed. He fell like a tree and she grabbed at him to keep him from just dropping, the momentum carrying her down with him. Pushing herself back to her feet, she quickly took off his shoes and then stripped his pants off, tossing them to the floor. Grasping his big hands, she managed to pull him up so she could get his shirt off. Tucking him under the covers, she went to the bathroom for the first aid kit and a wet cloth.

Back at his side, she sat down on the edge of the bed and started cleaning his face, her liquid brown eyes roving over him again and again as if to reassure her he was really all right. He seemed to be asleep so she went on with her work, putting cream on the cuts on his face. She went to wet another cloth in the icy tap water and then folded it over his eyes to help with the swelling. Then she set to work on his hands. Mac bit her lip hard, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She held his big hand in her smaller one and gently wiped off the blood, seeing the raw, exposed skin stretch across his knuckles. Through blurred vision, she saw one tear and then another splash against his skin and she sniffed.

"Hey," he whispered, startling her.

She hastily swiped her forearm across her eyes and he pulled the washcloth from his face with his free hand.

"I’m almost done and then you need to sleep. I’ll tell Colonel Hollister you won’t be in today," she babbled.

"Mac," he covered her hand, trapping it between his own and effectively stopping her. "We’re going to be okay," he whispered.

Mac raised her eyes to his – well, what she could see of them and blinked rapidly. "We’ve been on so many different cases but this one…" she swallowed hard. "Seeing you go through…. Harm, I can’t…"

"I was scared, too," he confessed, cutting her off and bringing her eyes to his again. "I felt something just… take over," he admitted. "I could have killed one of them."

"We have to stop this now, Harm. Before someone else does get killed. It could be you," she whispered. Her voice trailed off and she simply looked at him for several minutes, seeing some new things. "Just rest now," she ordered gently, rising to go rinse the cloth again. "We’ll talk about this later."

When Harm woke it was dark beyond the windows. The only light in the room was that of a small lamp near the door. His gaze fell on Mac’s sleeping form curled up in his armchair. He tried to move and couldn’t stop the groan that escaped. Mac was awake instantly, rising from the chair and coming to the bed.

"Shh," she murmured, gently pushing him back down. "Don’t try to get up," she told him.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"It’s Friday night."

"Night? I’ve been asleep all day?"

"All day and night. You were exhausted, Harm."

"Have you been here the whole time?"

"Most of it. I called the Admiral and Colonel Hollister."

"I have to get up."

"You need to rest."

"I can’t. Help me, please."

He reached for her and Mac carefully helped him into a sitting position. He groaned harshly as pain racked him. Mac reached for a clean pair of sweats she’d put nearby and helped him get them on. Then jamming herself beneath his arm, she got him on his feet. Harm swayed unsteadily and held onto her with both arms, closing his eyes against the dizziness that swamped him. Mac stood her ground and waited it out.

"This is insane," she muttered harshly. "You can’t fight again. You’ll end up in the hospital," she stated crossly.

"Can you yell at me later when my head stops buzzing?" he sighed.

They reached the bathroom and he moved away from her, gripping the doorframe to keep his balance. A few minutes later he came back out and made his way to the bed without her assistance. Sitting down heavily, he winced and put a hand to his side.

"Whew," he muttered.

Mac just watched him, arms crossed over her chest. "So what now?"

"Just what I said, Sergeant Glenn! His name is Rabb and he’s a Navy Commander. I don’t know who the woman is but you better find out and find out why they’re here."

Glenn studied the man across from him. "How do you know him?"

"He was here a couple of years ago investigating a midair crash with a helicopter. I’m sure you’ve heard of it – there was talk about it being a UFO or some kind of test craft. The point is I know who he isn’t - and that’s a Marine Gunny. You better watch your back, Glenn, and you can count us out until you get this resolved."

Glenn watched the man stalk away and ground his teeth together furiously. So they’d sent someone to spy on him had they? Well, he’d just find out who this Commander Rabb really was and the little fox with him and if they got in the way he’d deal with them.

Stiff but feeling much better, Harm walked into the training center with Mac at his side like before and found the others waiting.

"Gunny," Glenn acknowledged. "Ready for another go?"

Harm simply nodded.

"Then get to it, old man."

Handing his jacket to Mac, Harm bent and kissed her hard, one hand going to the back of her head and holding her to him with a feeling that almost bordered on desperation. The men whooped behind them but Harm ignored their catcalls and gave her a slow wink when he pulled back.

"Wish me luck," he grinned.

"Luck," she whispered back.

"Woo-ee, that’s better than watching you fight," Glenn jeered, sending Mac an appraising look.

"Stuff it, Glenn," Harm ordered coldly.

Moving to the center of the mat, Harm took a slow, deep breath and started battle all over again as the first one came at him swinging.

By the time the third man fell, Harm could barely stay on his feet and was sure now that he had a broken rib – or two. He forced himself to concentrate but he could feel Mac’s eyes on him from the sidelines. Using the hem of his shirt to wipe his face, he turned to wait for the next man to face him. Without warning, he found himself caught between to of them, his arms pinned behind his back.

"What the hell…" he began only to be cut off when Glenn hit him hard.

"Save it, Commander Rabb!" Glenn spat furiously.

"What are you talking about?" Harm demanded, trying to divert their attention.

"Don’t play stupid with me. I know all about why you’re really here. You and your pretty partner," Glenn went on, turning just in time for Harm to see two other men grab Mac.

"So what do you think you’re going to do now?" Harm challenged.

"We're going to go on with our fight and this time we’ll see how well you really hold up, Commander."

Mac watched helplessly from the sidelines as Glenn took up a baton and motioned for the other men to release Harm. They moved back out of the way and Glenn charged him, catching Harm across the face. Glenn stood back, dancing lightly on the balls of his feet as he waited for Harm to get back on his feet. No sooner did he do so when Glenn rushed him again, catching him in the stomach this time and then catching him with an upper cut that sent him back to the mat.

"Harm!" Mac cried.

Shaking his head, Harm came up on all fours, breathing shallowly. Head down, he watched Glenn’s feet as the young man came again. Harm waited until the last second and threw himself forward, crashing into Glenn’s legs. They both went down in a tangle and Harm rolled away from his opponent. Staggering, he rose halfway and launched himself at the Sergeant. They hit the ground with a thud and the baton went flying out of Glenn’s grasp. Harm hit the younger man with all his strength, snapping his head back.

Still full of strength, it barely fazed the younger man and he came back at Harm, hitting him with two quick jabs that sprawled him on his back. Harm rolled over on his stomach and tried to push himself up only to collapse back to the mat. Gaining his footing, Glenn came over to him, laughing. He kicked Harm as hard as he could, rolling him several feet across the mat.

"I knew you couldn’t take me," he sneered. "I was just biding my time for my chance. Take her outside and do what I told you. And keep her quiet!"

Harm glanced up in time to see Glenn motion to the men who held Mac. Fury blossomed in his body, blotting out everything else in its path. With a cry of rage, he lunged forward and hit Glenn in the legs. The men holding Mac stopped and they all watched as Harm launched himself at Glenn again. Grabbing him by the throat, Harm banged his head hard against the mat then hit him with every ounce of strength he had. Stunned, it took Glenn a second to react. He managed to dislodge Harm’s hold and knocked heads with him hard enough to have them both seeing stars. Shaking it off, Harm hit him again and again, trying to move back to keep Glenn from getting a hold of him. The men were locked in an all out battle now.

"Harm!" Mac cried again, struggling against the men holding her.

She kicked the one on her right hard enough to make him let go of her then she turned to attack the other man. He hit her hard, snapping her head back as the other man got a firm hold on her arms.

"Everyone freeze!"

Amid the commotion the command cut across the room like a whip, bringing everyone to a halt except for the two men on the floor. Mac turned toward the door and saw Colonel Ava Hollister crossing the room with swift strides. At her back were a dozen, armed SPs. One moved past her, a rifle outstretched and aimed at the men holding Mac.

"Release Colonel MacKenzie!" The man thundered, his vision sighted down the gun barrel.

Slowly, the men holding Mac let her go, arms upraised. She turned back to the mat where Harm had Glenn in a headlock, holding him pinned to the mat. Mac ran forward, halting just a few feet away.

"Harm!" she cried. "Harm, let him go!"

Her partner didn’t seem to even hear her. She dashed around behind him and grabbed at his arm. Glenn’s face was to starting to turn blue. Mac gave Harm a firm shake and he seemed to come out of the daze he was in. Slowly, he loosened his grip on the shorter man and he slid forward, gasping. The SPs jumped right in and grabbed him by the arms, pulling him to his feet and away from Harm. Colonel Hollister hurried over, her expression mottled by concern.

"Commander Rabb, are you all right?" she demanded.

Harm managed a slight nod as he fell back against Mac.

"We better get him to the hospital," the older woman told Mac.

"No. I’ll… be fine…" Harm muttered.

"Shut up, flyboy. We’re going whether you like it or not," Mac ground out, struggling to help him stand.

"I have a Jeep outside," Ava remarked, leading the way.

Mac slipped into Harm’s room, afraid she might wake him. Just as she reached the bed, he turned and looked at her.

She smiled softly and touched the back of his hand as she sat down. "I thought you might be asleep."

"Not yet," he mumbled. "Did they get everything taken care of at the training center?" he asked.

"All done," Mac confirmed. "They don’t know who all was involved in the gambling part yet, though, or who ratted on us but Colonel Hollister is sure it’s only a matter of time. I gave her the envelope with the $50,000 in it."

Harm’s eyes twinkled at her. "Sure would’ve been nice to have that," he sighed wistfully.

"And you certainly earned it," she teased gently. "I have to say this was one of the strangest cases we’ve ever handled."

"More like on of the scariest," Harm allowed.

"Careful, someone might hear you admitting it," she murmured.

"You’re the only one here and I don’t mind that," he answered. "I was so mad I lost all reason, Mac – especially when he told them to take care of you. I wanted to kill him. I think I might have if you hadn’t gotten me to let go," he admitted gently.

Mac’s eyes roamed over his face, taking in his eyes, blackened and almost swollen shut, the cut from the first fight in his dark brow, the split lip, the cut at the corners and the numerous other abrasions from the fighting.

"I hope I never have to see you like this again," she stated fervently. "You have no idea what it felt like to stand there and watch you fight with someone – no matter what the reason."

His eyes searched her face and saw the quick tears she blinked away. "I was glad to have you with me. I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else."

Mac forced a laugh to ease the tension. "Good thing you’re stuck with me then, huh?" she asked. "I’m going to get out of here and let you get some rest now. I’ll be back later and then I want to go home."

"You and me both," he answered, mustering a small smile around his swollen mouth.

Mac rose and leaned forward to brush the barest hint of a kiss across his forehead.

"Don’t terrorize the nurses, Sailor."

"Yes, ma’am," he answered dutifully.

She smiled once more before heading for the door.

"Mac?"

"What?" she asked, pausing to turn back to him.

"It’s the other women who have been the substitutes."

The End.