Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie came off the elevator on her floor juggling grocery bags and her door key. She hesitated when she saw the door of the neighboring apartment open. She’d been hearing movement and wondered if there was a new tenant. Now she knew there was.

"Hey, let me help you with those."

Mac shifted to look up and found herself face to face with a man only slightly less handsome than her beloved partner. And he was smiling warmly at her. With very clear, brilliant blue eyes. And straight, pearly white teeth – there was even a dimple peeking out at her!

"Thanks," she heard herself answer.

"No problem," he answered, taking the grocery bags from her so she could open the door.

Pushing it in, Mac allowed him to go first and he put the bags down on her kitchen counter.

"Did you just move in?" she asked conversationally.

"A couple of days ago. It’s pretty empty up here on this floor," he commented.

"Turn over is mild here. The people across the hall are on vacation and the ones on the other side of me moved out two weeks ago."

They drifted back to the front door. He smiled again at her and held out his hand. "My name is Darren James."

"Sarah MacKenzie," Mac answered, accepting his handshake.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sarah."

"Likewise, Darren."

The dream came again that night. It was the same thing every time. The man was walking toward - on the beach like before with the sun on his back. She couldn't see who he was but he walked with determined strides, purpose evident in every step. She didn't know if she should be afraid of him or not. She couldn't even see his face - just that he was tall and had dark hair. What was he after and why did he keep coming to her in these dreams? The details were mostly fuzzy and it was more of a feeling really. Feelings of being scared. Other than the man on the beach, she couldn’t remember anything else but the fear. She was running but didn’t know if it was from someone or to something.
Sighing, Mac sat up, pushing her hands through her sweat-dampened hair. She tossed back the tangled sheets and rose to her feet, shivering as the cool air hit her damp skin. Pulling the blanket from the bed, she wrapped it around her body like a cape. Walking slowly through the apartment, she let herself out the front door – knowing it was unlikely she’d run into anyone at 0230 in the morning.

Carefully holding the blanket up so she wouldn’t trip, Mac made her way up the stairwell to the roof. Outside, she breathed deeply of the cool air and looked up at the stars spread across the black night sky. Suddenly the hair on her neck stood up and she whirled around. A lone figure stood several feet away in the shadows.

"How did you know I was here?"

Mac relaxed as she recognized Darren’s voice. "Just a feeling. I’m a Marine – it wouldn’t do for me to let someone sneak up on me," she murmured. "What are you doing up here? I didn’t think anyone but me ever came up here."

"I found it the first night I was here," he answered, coming closer.

In the darkness, Mac couldn’t see his expression but his voice was deep and careful, filled with inner emotion it sounded like he was trying to hide. He sounded exhausted and forlorn. Despite having only known him for a couple of days, she could read him fairly well. He reminded her of her own penchant for drawing her reserves around her like a cloak.

"Are you all right?" Mac asked tentatively.

"Yeah," he answered on a rough sigh. "How are you?"

He turned it around on her and she smiled at the way he avoided her question.

"What has you up here in the middle of the night?" He went on.

"Just needed to clear my head," she murmured, thinking of the nightmares again.

"Bad dreams?" he asked, surprising her completely by guessing it.

"How could you tell?" she grimaced in the darkness.

"Why do you think I’m up here?"

Slowly, Mac wandered over to a small ledge and sat down, breathing in deeply of the cool night air. "They had gone away but lately they’ve back worse than ever," she mumbled almost more to herself than to him.

"Want to talk about it?" He offered.

"I’m afraid it would bore you to death."

"I have the feeling nothing about you would bore me to death, Sarah. Sometimes it helps to talk, though."

"Then I could ask you the same question. What drove you up here?"

Darren sat down beside her but didn’t answer for a minute. "It’s a long story – maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime."

"Fair enough," Mac responded gently. "Darren?"

"Yes?"

"Would you like to meet somewhere for lunch tomorrow?"

"I’d love to, Sarah."

"Where you off to in such a hurry?"

Mac looked up where Harm lounged in her doorway as she pulled her purse from a desk drawer. "I have a lunch date," she answered.

"Oh?" One word and one arched brow conveyed his surprise and something akin to jealousy. "Anyone I know?"

"He’s just a friend," she returned pertly, patting his cheek as she walked past him.

"Hi, yourself," he smiled easily. "I’m glad to see you."

"And, I, you," she grinned. "Have you ordered yet?"

"No, ma’am, I was waiting for you. I’ve only been here a few minutes."

"I’m starved," she confessed in a mock whisper. "Never get between a Marine and her food."

Darren laughed, his light eyes twinkling at her. "Thanks for the warning. I’ll be sure to keep my hands on this side of the table until after you’ve eaten."

He had a good sense of humor and Mac liked that. "Thank you for coming to have lunch with me," she said. "It’s not often that I get to have lunch away from the office unless it’s for business."

"Then I take it you’re not involved with anyone?" he asked.

Mac shook her head. "No. I just recently ended a long relationship that should have never gotten as far as it did."

"Why did it?" he prompted and then held up a hand. "I’m sorry, I’m not trying to pry."

"No, it’s all right. It just wasn’t right. He wasn’t the man for me but I thought I could make myself be happy with him," she explained gently.

"But you can’t make yourself be happy with a substitute," Darren guessed correctly.

Her smile was rueful. "Right. How about you? Are you involved with anyone?"

The mere mention of the words caused his face to shutter and Mac knew she’d touched a hot button. Without thinking, she reached over to cover his hand with her own. "I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?" she asked softly.

He managed a smile. "No. There’s no one, Sarah. Not for a year now and probably not for a long time to come."

Mac thought about Darren after she returned to the office. She wanted to ask him about the cryptic comment he made over his personal life but the arrival of their waitress had prevented her from doing so. Darren changed the subject after they ordered to more lighthearted fare and they never went back to relationships. She was drawn to her new neighbor for many reasons. Including the fact that he looked amazingly like her beloved partner. Except that Darren’s eyes were blue where Harm’s were green.

He had a deep sadness lurking in his eyes that drew her just as much. It reminded her of her own past and how hard she worked to put up a carefree front to the rest of the world when all she really wanted to do was crawl off in a hole and lick her wounds.

"You look like you’re a million miles away. Everything okay?"

She glanced up as Harm slowly walked into her office and lowered his tall frame into a chair. "Yeah, fine. I was just thinking. What’s up?"

He held up a file. "The Péna case. Something about this just doesn’t add up."

"How so?" she questioned, laying her pen aside and folding her hands together.

Harm leaned forward and opened the file in front of her. "He has an exemplary record, countless awards and the respect and admiration of his peers. Then out of the blue, he disobeys a direct order from the CAG and a Tomcat goes down. It just doesn’t make any sense," he sighed.

"What was the order from the CAG?" she asked.

"To wave the Tomcat off because the weather was bad and the CAG wanted them to take another pass. Péna signaled them in. Pilot was too low and they hit the deck. Luckily they weren’t killed but… well, you know what happens in this case. We went through this when Skates was tried," he explained.

"Have you been able to get anything out of him?" Mac glanced up at her partner.

Harm shook his head. "Just that he’s guilty and willing to plead to the charges. He’s not even trying to defend himself."

"And you think there’s something else going on," she guessed.

"I do. Péna isn’t the type that would just up and disobey because he felt like it – especially resulting in a crash of that magnitude. After talking to him, my gut says he’s covering for someone."

"But who? Another shipmate?" Mac suggested. "As LSO, Péna was in charge of that and the only authority over him would have been the CAG. What do we know about him?"

"He’s difficult to work with. I’ve never served under him but Keeter and Skates both pulled a six month tour and neither had a good thing to say about his command style," Harm told her.

"Maybe we should talk to both of them first and get a better grasp on the CAG and then a trip to the carrier could be in order. Talk to his shipmates and some of the other commanding officers," she suggested.

"The initial reports from the men in his command coincide with what happened."

"Maybe they’re covering, too," Mac stated.

"I like the way you think, Marine," Harm teased as he closed the folder.

"I have a few surprises, Navy man."

That first lunch at together at Serrano’s turned into almost daily time together for Mac and Darren. As much as she was still involved with her feelings for Harm, Mac found herself enchanted by Darren. And maybe it was because he reminded her of Harm in many ways but mostly it was because he seemed to value her company. And spending time with a man who simply wanted to share her time was a novelty she found herself enjoying.

But her time with the new man in her life didn’t go unnoticed by Harm. It had been almost two weeks since that first lunch date she had and there had been several dinners, more lunches and at least a couple of other events that he knew about. And the more he knew, the more it was making him crazy. He hadn’t met the elusive neighbor and Mac stubbornly remained quiet about him. For Pete’s sake, she just broke things off with Bugme and now there was someone else putting the moves on her. He couldn’t get her to himself long enough to make a move.

Harm walked into the bullpen, intent on heading to lunch after he talked to Bud and saw a man he didn’t recognize in Mac’s office. A tall man with a build similar to his own and the same dark brown hair. They were laughing and… his eyes narrowed in on the couple in the small office. They looked entirely too friendly for his liking. Harm felt the hair on the back of his neck rising.

"Bud, who’s that man with the Colonel?"

Bud didn’t look up from the folder he was perusing. "A Mr. James. I believe he’s the Colonel’s neighbor. They’re headed out for lunch."

Harm looked back to the office again and felt his gut tighten. So this was the man taking up all her time. {Wait a minute, a voice in his head cautioned. You don’t have any say over who she spends time with.}

"Commander?"

Bud’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Yes, Bud?"

"Will you have time before you go home to go over the Peterson file with me?" The younger man asked.

"Give me until 1500 and we’ll do it," Harm promised.

"Yes, sir."

"Hey, Jarhead, how about takeout and a movie tonight while we work on the Péna case?"

Mac smiled apologetically at him. "Can’t. I’m having dinner with Darren tonight."

"Oh. Okay," he answered slowly. "You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately," Harm began slowly. "Things getting serious?"

Mac lifted her head and looked at him for a long moment but his face revealed nothing. "He’s just my friend, Harm. I enjoy his company," she answered evenly.

"Oh," he said again. "Well, have a good time."

Her doorbell rang a few minutes before 1900 and Mac hurried to answer it.

Darren smiled brightly at her and held out a bouquet of mixed flowers.

"For you," he said.

Mac took them, her eyes shining her delight. "Thank you, Darren," she murmured, rising up slightly to kiss his cheek.

"You look pretty, Sarah."

Mac flushed becomingly and smoothed the fabric of the red shift she was wearing. Kenny G was playing on the stereo in the background and the smell of charcoal from the grill on her patio filled the air.

"You’ve been here too many times to qualify as a guest now. Make yourself comfortable," she teased.

"Thank you, I think I will," he retorted playfully as he headed for her refrigerator and the Dr. Pepper he knew she kept for him.

The doorbell rang and Mac frowned as she hurried back to answer it.

"Harm, what brings you over?" she asked, smiling.

He was silent for a moment, his eyes taking in how lovely she looked.

"Come in," she urged, stepping back.

Darren came back into the living room and the two men looked each other up and down in silent assessment.

"Darren, this is my partner, Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb," Mac introduced. "Harm, Darren James, my neighbor."

"Mr. James, " Harm automatically shook his hand.

"Commander. Sarah’s told me a lot about you," Darren smiled affably. He wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as Harm seemed to be.

There was a momentary silence before Harm turned to Mac, remembering the folder he was carrying. "You mentioned the Marshall case this morning but I had the file in my stack. They must have gotten mixed up this morning."

Mac shook her head at herself. "I didn’t even think to look for it in my briefcase before I left," she grinned.

"Not a problem. I’ll see you in the morning," he told her. Forcing what he hoped was a polite smile; he held his hand out to Darren again. "Mr. James, it was a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Harm, stay and eat with us. I was just going to put some chicken on the grill," Mac offered, touching his sleeve.

"Thanks for the offer, Mac, but I have plans, too," he replied, leaving off that the plans revolved around working at his kitchen table. See you tomorrow, Mac," he said again and left before she could say anything else.

"He seemed a bit uncomfortable with me," Darren said softly. When she didn’t answer, he turned and saw her staring at the door. "Sarah?"

"What?" she jerked her head around. "Sorry, I was thinking. What did you say?" she asked.

"I said he seemed a bit uncomfortable with me," Darren repeated. "Does he think there’s something going on between us?"

"Harm?" she scoffed. "He doesn’t pay too much attention to my private life."

Darren stared thoughtfully at her back as she walked back to the kitchen. If that’s what she thought about her partner then she wasn’t paying enough attention.

During the drive home and on into the evening, the vision of Mac in that red dress, in the company of yet another handsome man, haunted Harm's thoughts.

"You're going to lose her yet, Rabb," he admonished himself, putting on his tennis shoes to go for a midnight run.

Moonlight washed over him, lighting his path as he went, his thoughts churning as fast as his legs. Some other guy was taking her time away from him and he didn’t like it one bit. (But you don’t have a claim to her time, the little voice in his head whispered) Yet this … neighbor, Harm practically spat the word in his mind. How dare he just walk in and insinuate himself in her life?

{But why do you care? The little voice in his head persisted.

And that was the ultimate question. Why did he care? He cared because he didn’t want to see her get hurt. She hadn’t been away from Brumby long enough to be thinking about another relationship already. It’s not like they were involved. She was free to do what she wanted just as he was. So why did the thought of her being with some other man make him want to break something? Harm ran on, pushing himself. Maybe if pushed hard enough he could push out the demons that were keeping his mind stirred up.

Her evening with Darren had been wonderful. He was charming and funny and showed a genuine interest in her and Mac loved him for that. Her relationship with Harm had been so strained since her stupid engagement with Mic that now it was hard to sit down and be together like they used to. There had been no late night work sessions over pizza, no movies, no early morning runs. She missed their time together just being friends but most of all she missed her best friend. She just didn’t know if he missed her, too.

Mac felt all the changes and turmoil were the cause of her recent nightmares. She never slept much to begin with but now she slept even less as they drove her from her bed night after night. And despite the wonderful evening with Darren, tonight was no exception and she found herself headed up to her refuge.

"We have to quit meeting like this."

Mac looked around the edge of the stairwell door and saw Darren push himself away from the rail. She smiled softly and they both sat down in the plastic deck chairs they’d brought up a short week ago. It was a warm evening and the stars were out overhead. Mac tightened her hold on the blanket she had wrapped around her and glanced at Darren. He was bare-chested, clad only in a pair of running shorts and he looked completely worn. Mac took note of the new lines of tension bracketing his full mouth.

"Have you gotten much sleep at all this week?" she asked gently.

He shook his head. "They’ve been especially bad lately."

Mac remained silent, hoping it would encourage him to go on.

Darren sighed deeply and folded his hands over his flat stomach, tipping his head back to look at the stars. "Do you ever wonder at the injustice of life? About why bad things happen to good people and what God’s reasoning could have possibly been?"

Now they were starting to get somewhere. "Not as much as I used to," Mac admitted softly. "But there have been many times I have. My life hasn’t always been this much under control and I’ve made some very bad choices." He already knew about her alcoholic past so she didn’t elaborate further.

Darren sighed again and shifted restlessly, staring off into the distance. "So have I. The horrible injustice about life is that we can’t undo the mistake once it’s done and sometimes we can’t even learn from it. I made one very bad choice not too long ago and I’ll be paying for it for the rest of my life. My wife and little boy were killed just over a year ago."

Of all the things Mac suspected he would say this was the farthest from it. "Oh, Darren. I’m so sorry," she whispered, horrified. Tentatively, she reached out and covered his hand with hers. "No wonder you have nightmares."

Darren quirked one corner of his mouth up mockingly and turned his hand over to capture hers. "Thank you, Sarah. It’s much easier now than it was in the beginning. I spent the first six months in a drunken haze. I cursed God and everyone else, blamed myself and even thought about suicide. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to go on without them," he explained softly, his gaze fixed in the distance.

"I can’t imagine ever going through something like that," Mac murmured. Her mind automatically raced ahead to try and picture what life might be like without Harm. Or more importantly, what she would if he were killed.

"Can’t grasp it, can you?" Darren asked, reading her thoughts easily.

Mac sighed. "No. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must have felt. I don’t know what I would do if…" she stopped herself abruptly, clamping her lips together.

"If something happened to Harm?" Darren guessed.

Mac turned wide eyes to him. "What? What made you…" she stopped again when she saw the look in his eyes. "Is it that obvious?" she asked, her shoulders slumping in resignation. "How long have you known?"

"I suspected it but I wasn’t convinced until he turned up here tonight," he answered, flashing her a small smile. "I only had to see the way you two look at each other to know. And the way he’s reacted to me both times I’ve met him."

"You’re right," she admitted quietly. "I do love him and sometimes… well, sometimes I’d like to think he loves me, too. I know he has feelings for me but I don’t know if he cares as much as I do."

She stopped talking and stared ahead for a moment before shifting in her chair to face him, drawing her legs up to her chest. Wisely, Darren held his tongue. Man-to-man, he thought Harm cared way more than Mac even realized.

"But we aren’t talking about me," she continued, interrupting his thoughts. "I’d like to hear the rest of the story if you feel up to finishing it," she pushed gently.

"You’re the first person I’ve talked to about it outside of the people who were involved. It actually feels good to get it out," he murmured, surprised to realize his own relief. "It’s an ugly story. Something I would have thought could only happen in the movies." He shifted as well and turned his chair more toward her so they were facing.

"My wife and I were both raised here in DC. After we got married, I accepted an ADA position in Dallas. Three years ago I started working with DPS and the Rangers to build a case against a drug runner who could have been the poster child for the Sopranos on HBO. To make a long, boring story short – the deeper we dug in our heels, the nastier the situation got. When he couldn’t make me back down he killed my wife and baby. Ran them off the road and over a cliff." His hand tightened almost painfully around Mac’s. "He didn’t even leave me anything to bury."

Darren’s voice was low and tight, fraught with emotion that stabbed at Mac’s heart. She dropped her legs to the ground and leaned forward, gripping his hand in both of hers. There wasn’t anything she could begin to say so she remained quiet. When he didn’t say anything further, she risked a glance up at him and saw the agony in his even features. Without hesitation, Mac slid forward in her chair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. With a sharp tug, Darren had her out of her chair and onto his lap, his arms going around her waist as he buried his face in her neck. Mac simply acted on feeling, offering comfort the only way she knew how.

"I still see the wreckage every time I close my eyes," he whispered gutturally, his words muffled against her hair. "By the time I got to the scene it was nothing but a pile of smoldering metal. They wouldn’t even let me close but I knew it was our car. Later the dental records confirmed it was Annette and Bobby. "

He stopped talking for a minute and shifted, his hand rubbing idle circles on her back. Mac shifted as well, sliding her hands back and forth on his shoulders. It was scary how fast this man had become important to her – but Time followed its plan - not anyone else's. He had somehow become the friend she didn’t know she needed. It felt good to be needed just because and not what she might be able to do or offer.

"I wanted to die, too. I cursed everyone and everything around me hoping to find some way to ease my own guilt. I should have been the one in that car, Mac. I was the one pushing to get Mendova put away. And he retaliated by killing my family. No one knows what that feels like. No one," he swore softly. "To lose your whole world in one blow. My baby…" his voice cracked and he drew in a slow breath. "My baby was only a year old and we’d waited so long to have him. When he was born it was the best day of our lives," he whispered. "Annette called 911 on her cell phone after they started chasing her. Later, I heard the tape and it recorded all the way until she went over the cliff. I knew I was only torturing myself listening to it but hearing her voice and her cries…it fed the hatred in me, made me all that more determined to kill Mendova for taking them from me."

Mac tightened her grip on him as silent tears streamed down her cheeks. Her heart broke for the agony this kind man had suffered. Tiny shudders rippled through him and she knew how hard he was fighting to maintain his control. She tightened her hold around him, hoping he would let go of his grip. Without another word, he dropped his forehead down on her shoulder and cried.

Harm tried valiantly to sleep after he came back from his run but finally gave up around 0230 and got up. He had a strong feeling the reason for his discord was the pretty Marine he worked with. Things hadn’t been right between them for a long time. But for as often as he thought about it, it seemed as though day after day slipped by without either of them trying to repair it. It was time he did something about it. Quickly, he dressed, grabbed his keys and headed out.

The drive didn’t take long at such an early hour but when he got there, there was no answer to his knock. He stood for a moment in the hall wondering where on Earth she could be when he remembered that sometimes she went up to the roof when she couldn’t sleep. Swift steps carried him up the last flight to the roof and quietly, so as not to disturb her if she was there, he pushed open the door. The last sight he ever expected to see stopped his blood cold. Harm would recognize his partner’s slender form anywhere and it wrapped up in an obvious and private embrace. Stunned, Harm withdrew, closing the door quietly so they wouldn’t hear him. Heart pounding frantically, he stood for a moment, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of him. Apparently his earlier assumption about losing her was coming true.

Mac and Darren remained in that position for a long twenty minutes. Finally, he raised his head and looked at her, his eyes glittering in the darkness.

"Thank you," he murmured. "For being the one to share this with me."

"I’m glad I was here. Have you ever talked to anyone else about it?" she asked, stroking his shoulder.

"Just the therapist the office sent me to see. But it’s not the same as telling a friend." He smiled and touched her cheek. "Thank you for being that friend."

"Someday it’ll become easier. I know that’s what everyone says but I say it because I know it’s true. Time will ease the ache." She smiled again and stood up. "I'm going to bed and you should, too." She brushed a light hand across his hair before leaving him alone.

Harm made the drive back to his house, his mind in turmoil. He was confused about this situation with Mac. As much a he wanted her, something was holding him back. And that something was fear. It wasn’t about them working together or losing their friendship or anything else. It was simply about him being afraid. Afraid that if he let his guard down and gave his heart, he would get it back in pieces. Mac had that power more so than any other woman he’d ever dated. She could bring him to his knees.

"Hey, old man! Do you ever do any work around here?"

"Nah, they just keep me around for my good looks."

Harm’s face broke into a full-blown smile as he rose from behind his desk and went around to shake hands and slap backs with Commander Jack Keeter.

"Good to see you, man. How’s life treating you these days?" Keeter asked.

"It’s good," Harm answered. "We’re too busy here for me to think about anything else," he teased.

"Commander Keeter! How are you?"

Keeter and Harm both turned at the sound of Mac’s voice and Keeter caught her in a bear hug.

"I’m great. How about you, Colonel?" Jack’s eyes twinkled mischievously at her.

"Well, I haven’t ridden behind any desert Chieftains lately," she answered dryly.

"Funny lady. So, what do you two need to know from me?" he asked as he closed Harm’s office door behind Mac and gestured for her to sit down before him.

"Tell us about Captain London and the Enterprise," Harm stated.

Keeter arched one eyebrow. "London? He's an ass," the other man stated flatly. "Serving under him once was enough to make me want to give up the Navy. He's power hungry and he likes making sure everyone under him knows he's in charge. What made you ask?"

Harm gave him a brief explanation about Péna's case. Keeter raised one brow and shook his head.

"I wouldn't put anything past him, Harm. Watch your back."

Later that day they were summoned into A.J.’s office.

"I understand you two want to go to the Enterprise to see Commander Péna’s superiors and shipmates. Why?"

"Sir," Harm began. "We believe Commander Péna is covering something up. It doesn’t make sense that a man with his record would disobey a direct order – especially if it would cause the damage this one did. We’d like the chance to talk to his other commanding officers and the men under his command. We have reports that were taken onboard by the CAG but they’re from some of the same men who have routinely given their respect and admiration."

A.J. stared thoughtfully at them for a moment. "Commander Keeter came to see you yesterday – was it about this case?"

"Yes, sir," Harm answered. "Commander Keeter served under Captain London for a time. We wanted his opinion of the Captain."

"And?" A.J. asked.

"He doesn't like him," Harm admitted. "Lt. Hawkes said the same thing about her tour with him."

A.J. looked at them for a moment. "Permission granted. I want a full update on this case when you return."

"Aye, sir," Harm stated as they rose.

Two hours later the helicopter carrying Harm and Mac landed on the deck of the USS Enterprise. Harm jumped lightly to the deck then turned to extend a hand to Mac. Holding onto their covers, they walked rapidly across the open space to where an Ensign awaited them.

"Commander Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie, welcome aboard. I’m Ensign Stack and I’ll be your liaison while you’re here."

"Ensign," Harm greeted as they both saluted the younger officer.

"If you’ll follow me? Captain London is waiting for you in the Officers’ dining room."

Captain Frank London looked up from his coffee and the papers he was studying as they came in and rose to his feet.

"Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie, sir!" Ensign Stack introduced sharply.

"Thank you, Ensign. Dismissed."

"Aye, sir."

"Commander, Colonel, have a seat. Would you like something to drink? Perhaps a late breakfast?"

"Coffee for me. Mac?"

"For me, too, please."

"What brings the two of you out to my carrier?" he asked.

He spoke the words casually enough but there was an edge to them that spoke of his dislike of their presence.

"We want to question each of the men working under Commander Péna the day of the crash," Harm spoke evenly.

"They’ve already been questioned, Commander," Captain London answered.

"Yes, sir, we’re aware of that but they haven’t been questioned by us. We’d like to speak with each one."

"Commander, you’re wasting all of our time by doing this. Commander Péna has already pled guilty. Why are you going through this again?" Now the Captain looked at them both, his eyes hard and cold.

"Because it’s our job to do a thorough job of representing the Commander. Now, if you have no further questions for us, we’d like to get started," Harm answered levelly.

Two hours later, they were talking to the eighth and last man who reported directly to Commander Péna. And he gave them the same answer the last seven had – they knew nothing about what would suddenly make their superior disobey an order.

"They’re lying," Harm growled, pushing a hand through his hair.

"I know," she sighed. "What I don’t understand is why."

"I have an idea," he muttered and went out the door, leaving her sitting there.

Several minutes later, he was back with all eight of the men they’d just questioned. Mac watched, somewhat bemused, as he lined them all up and ordered them to attention.

"You boys know what happens when you lie under oath?" he barked.

The eight airmen looked at him, eyes wide, following his steps as he paced back and forth in front of them.

"You’ll end up in Leavenworth! And you want to know how?! Because I’ll make damn sure I send each and every one of you there myself!" he yelled. "Do you squids hear me?"

"Aye, aye, sir!" They cried back in unison.

Behind his back, Mac was trying her damndest not to laugh. Her partner missed his calling as a drill sergeant.

"Now I want to know why your CO failed to call the wave off for Lt. Elliott and caused those men to crash!"

For a long moment they just stared at him. Harm stared back, his eyes cold.

"It’s drugs, sir."

"What?!" Harm yelled, turning to see who had spoken.

One of the men took one step forward.

"Pax!" One of the other men hissed.

"No, I’m not covering it up anymore."

"Lt. Paxton, you better stop lying to me and speak up before you find yourself in the brig!" Harm ordered.

"They’re running drugs in from Panama, sir. They were on the fighter. That’s why Commander Péna waved them around. He found out what was happening and refused to let it go on."

Harm stepped closer to the young Lt., hands on his hips. "Why didn’t he report it?" he asked.

"Can’t, sir," Paxton answered, his eyes sliding to the floor. "CAG’s in on it."

This bit of news rocked Harm back on his heels and he turned to look at Mac. Then he looked back at the crew. "Nothing leaves this room, understand?" he demanded.

"Aye, aye, sir!"

Once they were gone, he looked at Mac again, his expression grim. "Hell of mess," he muttered.

"We’ll figure it out," she promised quietly.

"Commander Péna’s men told us Captain London is running drugs into the US through the ship."

For a long moment Admiral Chegwidden simply stared at his junior officers. "If this is your idea of joke, Commander, I’m not laughing."

"No joke, sir. His men were lying to us. One of them finally cracked and he told us Péna found out about it. That’s why he waved the fighter off. They were carrying the latest shipment."

"Were the pilots involved?" A.J. asked.

Harm shook his head. "We don’t know yet, sir. Lt. Paxton said that’s why Péna couldn’t report it, either."

"You know what kind of damage this will do if it turns out to be true?" A.J. sighed.

Harm and Mac exchanged a look. "Aye, sir."

"Find out what’s going on and until you have something concrete, no one knows about this. Understand?" A.J. leveled them with a hard glare.

"Yes, sir."

"Aye, sir."

"Colonel MacKenzie? Admiral Chegwidden would like to see you in his office immediately."

With a small sigh, Mac closed the file she was working on and headed across the bullpen.

"Go right in, ma’am. He’s expecting you," Tiner told her with a smile.

"Thank you, Tiner," Mac grinned.

She opened the heavy door and gasped when she saw Darren sitting in front of the Admiral’s desk.

"Dar…" she started to say then realized where she was and drew herself to attention. "Reporting as requested, sir," she stated.

"At ease, Mac. Have a seat," A.J. directed with a slight smile. "I know you’re already acquainted with Mr. James so at least we can skip the introductions. Commander Rabb is in court so I’ll expect you to fill him in later but I’m assigning the two of you to a new investigation that just came in."

"What about the Péna case, sir?" she asked.

"I don’t believe this knew case is going to take up much time. Have Bud assist you on the Péna case for now or let it sit until you return. This one needs immediate attention and Mr. James’ firm has requested our assistance."

"What kind of case, sir?" Mac asked, glancing sideways at Darren who only smiled.

"A Petty Officer in Acquisitions at Camp Lejeune was killed two days ago. The claim is that it was an accident but the circumstances are fuzzy so his CO has asked for an investigation. The chief suspect in the investigation is the victim’s wife. His family has requested civilian counsel. Mr. James’ firm is providing it. They also believe it was no accident that he was shot so I’m sending the two of you. Here’s the file and anything in it Mr. James can probably fill you in on. Any questions?" The Admiral asked her.

"No, sir," Mac answered, her head spinning slightly with this new development.

"Gunny has your flight information and reservations. Pick it up on your way out. Dismissed," he told her.

"Yes, sir," she murmured and left the office followed by Darren.

Darren waited a few steps behind while Mac gathered the stuff she need from Gunny and then they went back to her office. Smiling warmly, Mac hugged him gently and motioned for him to sit down as she closed her office door.

"So what do you think about going on an investigation with us?" she teased.

"I think it’s going to be interesting, that’s for sure," he grinned. "Being away with you and the Commander that you’re trying so hard to ignore? My idea of fun," he teased her back.

Mac blushed lightly. "He’s more open sometimes when we’re away on investigations," she revealed.

"Maybe it’s just what the two of you need. You said you had a great time at lunch the other day," he reminded her.

"And we did. It was nice to sit down and talk," she sighed. "We just can’t seem to get the hang of keeping it that way."

"Mac, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life waits for no one. You can’t wait for it to come to you. You have to go after it. Don’t wait too long or you just might find what you really want will slip away," he murmured gently.

She met his dark eyes. "Thank you," she stated gently. "For understanding and being such a good friend."

His face eased into a full, tender smile. "Thank you for the same, Sarah. I certainly never dreamed this is what I would find when I moved into that new apartment but I’m definitely glad now that I did. I didn’t know how much I needed a friend," he told her firmly.

Now it was her turn to smile. "Neither did I."

A knock on the office door broke the tender moment and Mac looked up to see Harm waiting. She waved at him to come in and he did so, sparing a glance in Darren’s direction.

"Is this a bad time?" he began. "I can come…"

"No, Darren’s actually here to see both of us," Mac answered quickly, interrupting him. "Come sit down," she invited.

Darren rose slightly but Harm waved him back down. "Commander Rabb," he greeted with a bright smile.

"Harm, please," Harm told him, shaking the hand he stuck out as he lowered his tall frame into Mac’s other chair. "What brings you down here to see us?" he asked.

"It looks like we’ll be working on a case together," Darren answered, looking between Mac and Harm.

"Admiral Chegwidden just told me about it and Gunny gave me our flight information. There was an accidental shooting at Camp Lejuene and the victim’s family has asked for civilian representation, which is where Darren comes into play. However, the Admiral wants us to investigate which I’m sure is somewhere in this report but I’d rather hear what you know," Mac asked, turning her attention to Darren.

"I’ll tell you what I know," Darren responded. "Petty Officer Gentry was killed by a single bullet to the head while sleeping. His wife claims that she heard a noise in the house and believed there was an intruder. As she was reaching under his pillow for the gun, it went off and killed him. His wife isn’t officially a suspect but the circumstances are suspicious and her story has been told with a few variations since the shooting occurred," Darren explained, looking between Harm and Mac. "She asked for outside counsel because she’s military as well and believes that she will not get fair representation from the Navy." Harm stiffened marginally and Darren held up a hand to stop him from speaking. "And I didn’t mean that as a slant. That’s her belief. From what Sarah has told me about the two of you, I know if anyone will be fair to all parties it’s the two of you," he stated, a warm, semi smile touching his full lips.

Harm looked skeptically at the handsome civilian before him, his distrust of civilian attorneys, especially those friendly with Mac, going back to Dalton Lowne. Nonetheless, the assignment had been made and he would carry it out.

The young Ensign that greeted the trio upon landing took them to meet Colonel William Drake, the CO of Acquisitions. They came to attention and the older man rose with a welcoming smile.

"At ease, Commander, Colonel. It’s a pleasure to meet you though I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. Mr. James, welcome to our base."

"I know you’ll want to get your investigations under way and that’s what we want, too – anything to get this settled quickly. Ensign Clarke will be your liaison while you’re here and if there’s anything you need just let him know."

"Thank you, sir," Harm answered politely.

The trio left the Colonel’s office and Ensign Clarke took them to the Medical Corp building where PO Cecilia Gentry worked as a nurse.

"I need to hold counsel with her before the two of you talk to her," Darren announced as they approached the waiting room.

"We’ll wait," Harm answered, glancing sideways at Mac.

Darren nodded shortly and disappeared into the small office they were shown to.

An hour later Darren popped his head outside the door and motioned to Harm and Mac. "Your turn," he smiled tiredly.

They joined him inside the room where PO Gentry sat looking like she’d rather crawl under the table than sit and face another round of questioning.

"Petty Officer, I’m Commander Rabb and this is my partner, Lt. Colonel MacKenzie. How are you holding up?" Harm asked, his lawyer voice holding just the right touch of politeness and calm.

"Okay, sir. A little tired."

Harm and Mac sat down next to Darren across from PO Gentry and pulled out their notepads.

"Would you tell us what happened the night your husband died?"

"With all due respect, Commander, I’ve already told my story several times," she pointed out a touch snidely.

"With all due respect, ma’am," Harm stated firmly, "you’ll tell it again."

She sighed and pressed her lips into a flat line. "Very well. We were in bed asleep and around 0200 I was awakened by noises. I thought we had a prowler. My husband is an avid marksman and has a collection of weapons. He kept a 9mm under his pillow for our protection. I didn’t want to wake him in case it was nothing so I was going to go look myself. I reached under his pillow for the gun and started to pull it out. And it went off, shooting him in the head. That’s it, Commander Rabb," she stated simply.

"I see," Harm murmured, watching her closely.

He stared long enough to make her look away, her movements nervous.

"You say your husband was an avid marksman outside of his weaponry training?" Harm asked.

"Yes, sir. He went to the range often. He cleaned that .9mm earlier that day and I guess he just didn’t realize there was a round in the chamber," she shrugged.

Harm made note of something on his notepad then glanced casually up at her. "That’s all we have for now, Petty Officer. We’ll get back in touch with you."

Ensign Clarke was waiting when they came outside and a strong wind assailed them. Holding onto their covers, Harm and Mac climbed into the back of the sedan, letting Darren have the front and Ensign Clarke pulled away from the curb.

"Whew! The wind sure picked up! Are we in for a storm?" Mac questioned, brushing the ends of her hair back.

"Yes, ma’am. Tropical storm Hope is about 100 miles off the coast. If it’s upgraded they’ll evacuate the base," he explained.

"Great," Harm murmured, lifting his lips slightly in a smile.

"Don’t worry," Mac whispered, leaning slightly closer. "I’ll protect you."

Harm chuckled. "And who will protect you? The ducking Marine?"

Mac gave him a mock glare. "Marines never duck, they take cover," she reminded him.

"Is that what they call it?" he teased.

Darren listened to their quiet banter and smiled to himself as he watched the wind beat the trees outside. They were a lot closer than either one of them wanted to admit to.

A couple of hours later, the trio returned to their temporary quarters after having questioned a few more people and eaten dinner. Alone in her room, Mac walked to the window and looked out. The wind was blowing harder than earlier and rain lashed the earth. Ensign Clarke was afraid they would have to be evacuated and he’d told all three to remain on standby in case the alert went out.

With a sigh, she rubbed her arms slightly and turned from the window. Something she hadn’t noticed when she came in caught her attention and she froze. Slowly, Mac crossed the room and picked up a white envelope lying on the dresser. From inside she pulled a single slip of paper.

Mac looked up for the span of a heartbeat then back to the note. Then she looked at the door that separated her room from Harm’s. Debating, she nibbled on her bottom lip before finally folding the note and slipping it in her pocket. She could leave right now and be back before he ever knew she was gone. Donning her slicker and her cover, she grabbed her purse and ran down to the CQ desk.

"Ma’am!" The guard saluted as she approached.

"At ease," she smiled briefly. "I need a car," she told him.

"Yes, ma’am. Here. There’s a Jeep out front you can use."

"Thank you. Can you tell me how to get to the old armory warehouse?"

A couple of minutes later, Mac was on her way, staring nervously at the storm outside of the Jeep’s windows.

Harm knocked for the second time on the door between their rooms wondering where she could be. Ensign Clarke told them not to leave. Cautiously, Harm opened the door a few inches.

"Mac? You in there?" he called.

When he got no answer he pushed the door all the way open and looked into the room. The bathroom on the other side was dark and there was no sign of her. Frowning, he went back to his own room and picked up the phone. When the guard at the downstairs desk answered, Harm asked him if he’d seen the Lt. Colonel.

"Yes, sir, Commander Rabb. She left ten minutes ago."
"Left? Where did she go?"

"She borrowed one of the Jeeps and asked for directions to the old armory warehouse. Is there a problem, sir?"

"I’ll be down in a minute, Corporal. I need a vehicle and directions to the armory," Harm stated grimly.

"Yes, sir."

Grabbing his cover, Harm left the room and knocked on Darren’s door.

"Harm, is something wrong?" he asked, seeing the look on the other man’s face.

"Mac’s gone," Harm stated without preamble.

"What do you mean ‘gone’?" Darren frowned.

"The guard at the desk told me she left. I’m going after her. Will you stay here in case she comes back before I do?" Harm questioned, hating to even ask the other man’s help.

"I’ll be right here," Darren promised. "Call if you need anything at all and be careful," he cautioned.

Harm nodded once and jogged down the hall and out of sight.

Mac found the old building with only a little difficulty. The storm had lessened visibility to almost nothing as it battered the Jeep. Tension knotted between her shoulders and a headache was pounding between her eyes as she fought against the howling wind as it pummeled the vehicle. Pulling as close to the front of the building as possible, she took a deep breath and shoved open her door. Rain hit her in icy sheets, stinging her skin like thousands of tiny needles as she raced for the door. She jerked it open and ducked inside, finding herself in total darkness.

Mac froze for an instant, chest heaving as she tried to slow her breathing and gain her bearings. The armory was located near the back of the base in a desolate area. Abandoned for a few years, the old building smelled dank and musty and there was no light inside or out. No wonder her anonymous witness had chosen it.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" she called, still standing just inside the door. "Hello?"

When there was no answer, she switched on the flashlight she brought along and aimed it ahead of her. The first floor of the building was empty. It was wide and open, like the bullpen of JAG with smaller offices to the sides but they were all empty. An elevator bank was to her right and a door marked stairs. Suddenly, there was a thump somewhere overhead. Mac jerked the beam of the flashlight toward the ceiling and froze. Then she heard what sounded like footsteps.

"Hello?" she yelled. "It’s Colonel McKenzie!"

Shifting her flashlight to her other hand, Mac withdrew her gun from the waistband of her uniform and went to the stairwell. Keeping the light on the dark stairs, she slowly made her way up to the second floor.

Harm pulled in beside the Jeep she’d used and grabbed his gun and flashlight from the seat beside him. He tossed his cover down in the seat in place of them and jumped from the Jeep. He was soaked instantly as he dashed to the front door of the armory and went inside. Turning on his flashlight, he swung the beam wide, looking for any signs of Mac or whatever brought her here. The light picked up a trail of water on the floor and small footprints left by her pumps in the heavy dust on the floor. Just as he started for the stairs, he heard a door slam somewhere overhead. Holding his gun aloft, he went into the stairwell and started up, hoping she wasn’t too far ahead of him.

Mac walked into the second floor area, finding that it looked just like the lower level. A broken chair lay on its side several feet away and the glass in one of the partition walls was broken and jagged. But the room was empty. And as quiet as a tomb. Mac turned the flashlight from left to right in a slow sweep, looking for any signs that someone else was there.

"In anyone here?" she called. "I’m here alone. Like you wanted."

There was no answer, only the numbing quiet.

She took a few steps forward, again moving the light over each of the smaller offices. The barest hint of movement caught the corner of her field of vision and she started to turn toward it. Something hit her full force - knocking her to the ground with a hard jolt that sent her gun and the flashlight flying.

Harm was reaching for the door to the second floor, relief filling him when he heard Mac’s voice calling to someone from inside the second floor. Before he could grasp the knob, the door flew open and someone barreled into him, knocking him hard against the wall.

"What the…!" The exclamation ended when he got the breath knocked out of him.

Shaking his head, he patted around the floor looking for the flashlight as he heard footsteps pounding down the stairs. His hand found his gun and he tucked it into his pants. Then he searched for the flashlight again.

"Damn," he muttered as he came up empty. It must have fallen down the stairs.

Slowly, Harm got to his feet and searched for the doorknob. Finding it, he pushed the door open and went in. The beam of Mac’s flashlight streaked across the floor from where it had fallen – and it illuminated her legs and the fact that she was unmoving.

"Mac!" he cried, rushing over to her and dropping to his knees. "Mac, can you hear me?"

Slowly, his grasped her shoulders and lifted he, bringing her up onto his bent knees. He pushed a strand of hair back from her face and checked for a pulse at her neck. Just then she moaned slightly and relief flooded him.

"Thank God," he murmured. "Mac, open your eyes. Look at me."

Very slowly, her lashed lifted. She stared at him for a moment, unseeing. Then her gaze seemed to focus and she started. Harm held her firmly.

"It’s all right. We’re alone. Are you hurt?" he asked in a soft, even voice.

"No," she muttered, looking away and then her gaze flew back to his. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I came after you," he stated grimly. "What were you thinking coming here alone? Look at this place. And there’s a hurricane raging outside!" he answered, fear of her being hurt and relief that she was okay making his emotions tumble out of control.

"I can take care of myself," she mumbled, pushing ineffectually against his chest.

"I know you can but that’s beside the point," he snapped, moving to help her to her feet.

She swayed slightly and he tightened his grip on her waist. "Okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "Did you see who was here?"

"No. Whoever it was barged right into me on the stairs and took off before I even realized what was happening. Why are you here?" he asked again.

"I got a note from someone who said they knew PO Gentry killed her husband."

"Whoever it was is long gone now and we need to get the hell out of here. Sure you’re okay?" he asked again.

"I’m fine. Let’s go," she answered.

She started to move and stumbled against Harm, biting back a cry.

"What is it? I thought you weren’t hurt?" he demanded.

"Stop snapping at me!" she cried, jerking her hands away from him. "I’m not a stupid little child!"

Something inside of Harm twisted into a million knots and he grabbed her upper arms, jerking her against him with a hard shake. The light from the flashlight was behind them so he couldn’t see her face but he could feel the harsh, jerky breaths she was taking and felt his own coming just as fast.

"I’m sorry," he ground out. "Do you have any idea how worried I was when I found out you were gone in this weather?"

Mac wished she could see his face but she felt the tremor is his arms where her hands rested. "I’m sorry, too," she told him softly. "It was foolish of me to go into an unknown situation like this."

Harm grip softened on her arms and she felt him move back just a step. "Can you walk?"

"I think so. I might have twisted my ankle when I went down," she answered.

"Hold the flashlight," he instructed, pressing it into her hands.

Before Mac could form a thought, she found herself lifted high in his arms. Wisely, she kept her mouth shut. Being this close to him was scrambling her senses and she wanted to enjoy it while she could so she aimed the flashlight at the ground ahead of them. They got two feet when an ominous rumble sounded overhead. Harm jerked to a halt and they both looked up.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Thunder?" Harm answered hopefully. "Let’s get out of here."

As he started to move again, there was a tremendous cracking sound all around them. There was no time for them to move another inch as something came through the roof and the wind hit them. The last thing Harm remembered was hearing Mac scream as she was ripped from his arms and they both went down.

Harm came awake slowly. The first thing he noticed was the driving rain that lashed him. The second was that he couldn’t move. Slowly, he tried to turn his head. Pain bellowed through his skull and he gasped as stars exploded in his eyes. Taking a slow breath, he tried again but he couldn’t see anything. But he could feel the wind and the rain and knew something must have crashed through the roof of the building.

"Mac! Mac, where are you! Answer me," he cried, trying to be heard above the weather.

There was no answer and his heart thudded painfully. "Sarah!" he called again. "Damn it, answer me!"

He tried again to move but something had him pinned from the chest down. He pushed ineffectually at what felt like a beam but it didn’t budge. Panting with exertion, he rested for a moment, nausea from the pain in his head threatening to make him vomit. "Mac!" he yelled again, panic overtaking him.

She could hear Harm calling her but he sounded so far away. Groaning, Mac lifted a hand to her head, shielding her face from the rain as she tried to open her eyes. What in the world happened? Slowly, she rolled to her hands and knees, bracing herself for a minute when dizziness swamped her. The cold rain bit into her soft skin and the wind felt like it would pick her up at any second and toss her away. Something warm trickled to the corner of her mouth and she tasted her own blood. Lifting a hand, she touched it to her head and gasped when she hit an open wound.

Rocking back on her knees, Mac took several slow breaths, calming the roar in her head. Soaked through despite her raincoat, she shivered and struggled slowly to her feet. She had no idea what happened but it seemed like something crashed through the roof.

"Harm!"

"Mac!" he answered immediately. "Are you all right?" he called.

"I think so," she answered. "Keep calling. I can’t see anything!" she yelled back.

"I’m pinned down," he told her, hoping she wouldn’t hurt herself again trying to get to him. "Be careful. I think its part of the ceiling. I’m pinned but I can move my arms."

Mac stumbled over several pieces of debris, holding her hands out in front of her to help as a guide. She tripped on something and came down hard on her knees, cursing loudly as the pain in her head started anew.

"What happened? Are you all right?" Harm demanded, sounding closer now.

"I tripped," she answered. "I’m all right."

Staying on all fours this time, she slowly made her way toward the sound of his voice until she came up beside him. She could have wept with relief when her hands found him in the darkness.

"Are you okay?" she demanded, her fingers finding his face, searching the features to reassure herself he was all right.

"My head hurts," he admitted. His hands caught her then and he tugged her down as best he could to hug her. "Thank God you’re all right," he breathed roughly. "When you didn’t answer me…" he voice trailed off but she knew what he meant without the words. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice like gravel.

"Something caught me in the head. There’s blood," she murmured. "I think I might have a bit of a concussion. What are we going to do, Harm? We need to try and get this thing off of you," she stated, mustering up her resolve.

"I don’t want you hurting yourself even more. You could pass out on me," he answered grimly.

"We can’t stay here in this storm. My, God, it’s…"

The words died right on her lips as the gale force wind hit the caved in building. Pieces of debris lifted and flew across the darkness, crashing into Lord knew what. Mac screamed and Harm reached for her, pulling her against him and cursing because he couldn’t shield her. Mac held onto him tightly, covering his head and shoulders with her own body, her cheek pressed against his. The wind howled around them like some kind of supernatural power. Something hit her in the shoulder and she flinched against him but didn’t ease her grip.

"We have to try and get out of here!" she called in his ear.

"Go without me, Mac!" Harm ordered, grasping her arms so hard she knew there would be bruises later.

"No!" she screamed. "I’m not leaving you here!"

Struggling against the wind, Mac moved away from him. Backing up on her knees, she felt for the junk holding him down. She could feel the rough edges of wood and what felt like ceiling tiles. Gritting her teeth, she started tossing things aside, fighting the wind and rain the whole way.

"Mac, stop! I don’t want you hurt!" Harm yelled at her.

"I’m not stopping so shut up, Commander!" she yelled back, heaving another piece of debris.

A piece of wood came back at her out of nowhere, hitting her in the leg. She bit down hard on her lip until she tasted blood to keep from crying out so as not to alert Harm. Breathing hard from the exertion, she kept throwing and throwing and throwing until her arms ached. She swiped at the wetness on her face – both from the rain and the blood and shoved her hair back. Her ankle hurt so bad the pain was white hot but still she kept on, working to free Harm so he could move and they could try to get out of there or at least into the stairwell.

Darren stared worriedly at his watch for about the millionth time and paced the lobby floor in front of the CQ desk. It had been two hours since Harm left to go after Mac and there was no sign of them. The weather was worsening and tropical storm Hope was on the verge up being upgraded to full Hurricane status. At the end of the desk, he picked up the phone and punched in Mac’s cell number. Like all the other times he’d tried the number, he got a recording about the caller he was trying to reach being out of the service range. Frustrated, he slapped the phone down. How could she be out of range?

"Still no answer, sir?" The guard at the desk asked.

Darren shook his head. "They’ve been gone too long. I want to go out to the old armory warehouse," Darren told him.

"Sir, the weather…"

Darren slammed his hands down in the counter and leaned in to the guard, his eyes cold. "I don’t care if it’s the second-coming out there. I want to go to the armory and I want to go now. Now either you give me a vehicle or you call someone who can take me."

"Yes, sir," The guard answered crisply. He picked up the phone and barked out and order then looked back to Darren. "A car will be here in two minutes, Mr. James."

"Thank you," Darren returned.

Exactly two minutes later, Darren ran outside and climbed into the waiting Jeep. They drove through the empty, dark streets of the base toward the very back where the armory was located.

"Oh, my, God!" Darren breathed roughly as it came into sight.

Mac almost cried when her hands finally came into contact with the material of Harm’s pants. "Can you feel my hands?" she cried.

"Yes!" he answered.

Inching her way up his legs, she came to the beam that was holding him down. Struggling to her feet, she grasped the end and took a deep breath. The heavy ceiling beam didn’t budge an inch. Frustrated, she tried a second time and then a third to no avail. Harm tried to help her by shoving against the beam, but from the way he was laying, he couldn’t gain any leverage.

"Mac, stop! It’s no use!"

Mac ignored him and braced herself against the heavy beam again. Gritting her teeth, she threw her whole body into the push. Rain sluiced down her face, washing away the sweat that beaded her brow. Grunting from the exertion, Mac pulled from deep inside for strength she didn’t even know she possessed. With a cry that would have done any Marine proud in battle, she lifted the beam far enough up for Ham to slide from beneath it. It crashed to the floor the second he was free and Mac collapsed to her knees, her breath coming in painful gasps.

"That was stupid! Damn it, you could have hurt yourself! It wasn’t worth it!" he yelled angrily, sliding his hands over her went hair as he tilted her face to his.

"Don’t…tell me you’re… not worth… it," she gasped.

Harm cursed the darkness and wished he could see her face. The wind pushed at them both, threatening to tear her from his grasp.

"Come on! We have to get out of here!" He told her, firmly grasping her hand.

Darren and the Marine guard with him forced their way into the dark building. Their powerful flashlights cut through the darkness and the first floor but there was no sign of Harm and Mac.

"Sarah!" Darren cried. "Sarah, are you here?" Darren yelled.

Not paying attention to whether the guard was with him or not, Darren went to the stairwell and pushed the heavy door open. From inside the stairwell, the howling wind outside took on an eerie cast. Darren started up the stairs, hearing the Marine behind him. Just then the door above was flung open, slamming against the wall with shattering force. Darren jerked his flashlight up right into the surprised eyes of Harm and Mac.

"Sarah!" he cried, his relief almost palpable.

"Darren?" Mac answered, almost afraid she was hearing things. "Oh, thank God!" she cried, breaking away from Harm.

The wind behind him, the rain and even his battered condition all faded away as Harm watched his partner rush down the stairs and fling herself into another man’s arms.

"Thank God, you’re here!" Mac whispered, feeling Darren’s warm arms close around her. Then she jerked back and looked up at him. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Harm told me he was coming after you and you both were gone so long I felt something was wrong," Darren told her. "What happened? Are you both all right?" he demanded, looking over her head up to Harm who was slowly coming down the stairs.

"The storm collapsed the roof, I think," Mac told him.

Darren shook her head. "Tree. You can see it outside," he clarified. "We need to get you some medical attention," he went on, lifting a hand toward the bleeding cut on her forehead.

Harm came down a step behind her and put his hand on her waist. "Let’s go," he stated, his expression stony.

Darren took a look at the other’s man’s countenance and back down a step from Mac, biting back the urge to grin. Harm picked Mac up and followed Darren and the guard down to the first floor and outside. They glanced back briefly to look at the caved in building. The guard opened the back door of the Jeep and Harm got in with Mac while Darren climbed into the front.

It took fifteen minutes to make the drive to the base hospital. A triage team was waiting since the guard had called ahead and they whisked harm and Mac away on gurneys.

"Sir?" Darren turned and saw a young nurse holding a wool blanket." Get yourself warm and you’ll find hot coffee in the waiting room," she told him.

"Thank you," he murmured and went to wait.

It was just a little more than two hours later when a doctor walked in and held out a hand to Darren.

"Mr. James? Dr. Shaye. I understand you came in with Commander Rabb and Lt. Colonel MacKenzie?"

"Yes, sir. How are they?"

"They’ll both be just fine," Dr. Shaye smiled warmly. "We are going to keep them overnight for observation. Both sustained mild concussions, assorted scrapes and bruises and Colonel MacKenzie sprained her ankle. I had x-rays taken to be sure but there was no further damage to either of them."

"Thank God," Darren murmured, briefly closing his eyes.

"Would you like to see them?"

"Yes."

Dr. Shaye took him to Harm’s room first, told him Mac was two doors down then left Darren to his visit. Tapping on the door lightly, Darren pushed it open and hesitantly stuck his head in. Harm turned his head at the sound and lifted one corner of his mouth in greeting.

"I didn’t know you were still here," he said.

Darren walked into the room and closed the door behind him. "I waited to see how both of you were. Dr. Shaye said you’ll live," he stated, trying to inject a little humor.

Harm simply nodded and looked back to ward the window where he could hear the wind and rain beating the glass. "Have you been in to see Mac yet?" he asked.

"Not yet," Darren answered.

"You should stay with her. She hates storms," Harm explained, forcing the words past the tightness in his throat. He didn’t want to see this man anywhere near her but he didn’t want her left alone either.

Darren could tell Harm was fighting his feelings. Maybe it was having been married himself that allowed him to see it. However, he kept his thoughts to himself and nodded noncommittally. If there was one thing he’d learned about Sarah, it was that she wouldn‘t appreciate his interference. And it wouldn’t hurt to let the Commander suffer for a little longer. At least until they had the case wrapped up. Then if they still couldn’t see the forest for the trees, he might have to give them a push.

He left Harm then with a promise to take good care of Sarah, ignored the other man’s glare and went down to Mac’s room. Knocking on the door, he pushed it open and went in. Mac turned her head and smiled wanly when she saw him.

"Hey," she called softly.

"Hey, yourself," he answered, bending to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Sore and worn out. I feel like I’ve been in boot camp all over again," she sighed.

"Doc said you sprained your ankle and knocked your head real good but other than that you’d be okay."

Mac managed a small grin. Then much to her horror she felt tears well up. "I guess I’m more tired than I thought," she muttered.

"Do you always feel like you have to excuse it away?" he chided gently.

Mac snapped her head up and glared at him.

He held up his hands to hold her retort. "Wait, I forgot. You’re a Marine. Marines don’t duck and they probably don’t cry, either. Right? But what about the woman behind the Marine uniform? Is she allowed to cry? I promise I won’t tell anyone if I see her drop a tear or two."

Mac stared at him as if he’d grown another head. This was a side of him she hadn’t seen before but his words touched her just the way he wanted. Mac pressed one hand to her mouth and sighed tremulously. Without another word, Darren eased down on the side of the bed next to her and gathered her close. Neither said another word. Mac simply burrowed close and let her tears fall. He rocked her gently and stroked one big hand over her hair again and again, soothing her.

"You don’t always have to be strong," he whispered, his warm breath fanning her hair. "You can cry with me, Sarah. Anytime. You allowed me to bare a side of myself I’ve kept locked up tight. Let me return the favor to you."

"I feel stupid," she answered, her voice muffled against his shirt.

"There’s no need to," he answered. "No need to at all. And you know what?" Darren pulled back slightly and tilted Mac’s face up so he could see her eyes. "I bet you can cry with that man two doors over who’d rather I was six feet under. He feels a lot more than I think you could even imagine."

That brought her head up and she gave him a funny look. "Six feet under?’

Darren chuckled softly. "That would be the only part you’d catch. He gives me dirty looks every time your name comes up. I’m surprised he’s not in here now but I think the doctor threatened him with further bodily injury if he got up."

That brought the slightest twitch of a smile to her face.

"And with that, I want you to settle down here and go to sleep," he ordered, gently pressing her back to the pillows.

"Is that an order?" Mac teased softly.

"Yes, ma’am. And one you better heed," he retorted playfully.

"Will you stay?" she asked, her eyes already drifting closed.

"Yes, I’ll stay," he murmured, smoothing a hand over her hair as he rose from the bed. He walked a few steps and carried the room’s single chair back to the bed.

"Darren?"

"Hmmm?"

"What happened to Mendova?"

Her question brought him up short. "He’s dead, Sarah."

*******

Harm stared at the dark window in his room where the storm continued to rage. Hope was still being considered a tropical storm. A nurse had come in a few minutes ago to check on him and cheerfully told him they were monitoring the weather from the nurses’ station. But it seemed there was no immediate chance of a hurricane.

At least not outside.

But there was one raging in his heart.

Jealousy was eating away at his gut and the saddest thing of all was that Darren James seemed to be a truly ‘nice’ guy. The man risked his own neck in a borderline tropical storm to come after them. And he’d probably saved them both from further injury. He didn’t seem to have the ego and ulterior motives of Dalton or the ego and conniving personality of Brumby or Farrow’s ‘take care of Sarah’ attitude. For once, it seemed that a man had walked onto the stage that simply liked Mac for who she was. And Harm couldn’t fault him for that. She was a beautiful, savvy, funny woman and she would be a proud and loving addition to any man’s life. Problem was, Harm didn’t want that to be just any man. Mac deserved only the best.

And who might that be? A little voice in his head whispered. You? You’ve had several chances and you’ve blown them all. You don’t want her but you don’t want anyone else to have her, either. Face it, Commander - you’re a coward.

Harm didn’t want to admit the truth to himself. He didn’t want to admit that he was the only thing standing in the way of having her. But if he were to admit the truth, he might realize that Mac didn’t marry Brumby for one simple reason. Love. Or lack thereof in their case. She wouldn’t marry a man she didn’t absolutely love with all her heart and soul and Mic Brumby was not that man. Just like Renee Peterson was not the woman for Harm. She was fun and lively and great to be around but she wasn’t the woman he saw with him forty, fifty or sixty years down the line.

What he really saw at the end of the long road of his life was the woman in the room two doors over. And lying here in a dark, sterile hospital room listening to a storm that raged inside and out, Harm could admit to himself that he was a coward. He loved a woman who’d given him every indication that she loved him, too, and would welcome him into her life in a permanent role and yet he continued to pretend he didn’t want it. When he really wanted nothing more. There was the classic stalemate. Did he love her enough to hope it could overcome his fears? Or did he hold steadfast in his belief that a relationship would ruin what they had now and stand back and watch her end up with someone like Darren.

A jagged streak of lightning that lit the dark sky and a booming crash of thunder were his only answers. He was truly at a loss as to how to proceed. Either didn’t see it or didn’t want to see it. And that was the sad truth. A former Tomcat pilot who was a legend still. A crackpot lawyer with a record miles long and yet another legend.

He couldn’t tell the one person who meant the most to him that he loved her.

He was a coward.

The abated almost completely during the remainder of the night and Dr. Shaye released Harm and Mac the next morning.

"Hey, Sailor, you ready to blow this joint?"

Harm glanced over his shoulder as Mac closed the door to his room behind her and walked over to the bed.

"More than ready," he nodded. "Where’s Darren?" he asked casually.

"He went to pull the car around front. Harm," she began, hesitantly touching his arm.

He stilled his movements and looked down at her.

"Thank you for coming after me," she stated softly.

Harm studied her upturned face for a moment, feeling her hand slide down to catch his. Hesitantly, he reached up and touched one finger to the petal softness of her cheek.

"You’re welcome. Next time, don’t go without me."

Mac caught the teasing glint in his dark eyes and smiled. "We’ll see," she promised.

Later, the three of them drove to the base’s Records office. Mac looked questioningly at Harm as they went inside.

"What are we looking for here?" she asked.

"Petty Office Gentry asked for representation because she felt she wouldn’t get a fair trial from the Navy. Why?" Harm asked. "Because apparently there is a black mark already on her record. For what?" He looked at Darren. "Do you know?"

"Her first husband died from an accidental shooting," Darren revealed.

"Accidental?" Mac chimed in. "And now husband #2 dies accidentally." She arched one delicate brow in suspicion.

"I want to see the records for what happened at that time," Harm stated flatly.

Several minutes later they were seated in a private room with the case files spread out before them. There were pictures of the first husband’s body, the weapon and reports and testimony from Petty Officer Gentry, then Private Forsythe, and the investigating MPs. She was in the Marine Corp first before switching to the Navy," Harm read, glancing up at the others.

"This report says that Sergeant Forsythe was an expert marksman. He also had an extensive collection of weapons. Private Forsythe told police she was in the living room watching a late movie when she heard the gunshot. ‘Upon entering their room, she found her husband sprawled across the bed, the gun in his hand.’" Harm looked up at Mac and Darren. "I think there’s much more to this story than PO Gentry is telling anyone."

"What else does it say?" Darren asked.

Harm looked back to the report. "Martin Forsythe died from a single gunshot would to the head believed to have been discharged while he was cleaning his weapon. End of story. The coroner ruled it as accidental by gunshot and the case was closed, " Harm finished.

"Both of her husbands were military men," Mac began. "Both avid gun collectors and marksmen and both managed to die accidentally by the same guns they were so fond of. I don’t think they died by accident at all."

Harm shook his head grimly. "Neither do I. I think we should check the background on the husbands. Finances, family, everything. Find out if there was anything to gain by either of their deaths."

"Why don’t I take the first husband and you two take the second?" Darren suggested. "That way we’ll accomplish it faster."

"PO Gentry’s husband did not die accidentally."

Mac and Darren both met Harm’s eyes and he shut the door behind him and threw a file down on the small table. Mac took her cover off and sat down in one of the room’s two chairs, fluffing her hair.

"We found enough evidence to convince a jury, Darren," she told him.

Darren nodded grimly. "I already suspected as much. I found some interesting facts about Sergeant Forsythe."

"Such as?" Harm asked.

"I contacted a friend and asked him to look into the incident. During the preliminary investigation into Forsythe’s death, the officer in charge suspected that Cecilia Forsythe killed her husband. He found that Forsythe was carrying a one million dollar life insurance policy payable to his spouse in full in case of death. He also found too many inconsistencies in the scene. Based on the way the body was sprawled backward on the bed and how he was holding the gun, the trajectory doesn’t line up. For the bullet to have entered the way it did, he believed it would have to be fired by someone standing over the husband," Darren went on.

"So why didn’t they charge her then for murder?" Mac questioned.

"Politics. This happened back when the initial base closures were being handed out and all of the installations were putting their best collective foot forward. The powers that be were afraid all the publicity would draw too much focus on them and maybe precipitate being closed so they ordered the case closed since the coroner ruled it as accidental."

Harm shook his head with a sigh of disgust. "Figures. Well, we talked with the SPs who were on the scene this time and looked at all of the reports. There are several inconsistencies in this story, too. PO Gentry claims she was asleep when she heard a noise and believed it to be a prowler. That poses an instant question for me. Why wouldn’t she wake her husband? Regardless of whether or not she could take care of herself, such a thing should warrant it. If it were me, I would have awakened my wife.

Second, she claims she reached for the gun and it went off. According to the forensic reports, the angle from which the bullet entered the victim couldn’t have possibly come from where Cecilia was laying. And this proves it."

Harm went to his briefcase and pulled out a videotape. Smiling mysteriously, he went over and put it in the player then moved back so they could watch it.

As the tape started, they saw the bedroom of the Gentry house and a team of SPs with Cecilia. The lead officer asked her to demonstrate what happened so she and the man who was about the same weight and height as her deceased husband lay down on the bed. They watched as she stuttered over explaining her story. With the officer lying on his side, turned away from her, Cecilia slid her hand beneath the pillow to demonstrate how she reached for the gun.

Harm turned the video off and turned to Mac and Darren. "Suppose I’m the deceased." He crossed the room and took his service weapon out and removed the bullet cartridge then made himself comfortable on the bed in the same position the deceased man had been sleeping in. "Mac, come lay down behind me," he ordered gently. Mac did as he requested, settling herself the way Cecilia Gentry had. "Now reach under the pillow as if you were reaching for the gun," he continued.

Turning more toward her stomach, Mac moved closer to him and slid her hand under the pillow his dark head was resting on. Her fingers touched the smooth, cold metal of the gun and she got a firm grasp on it.

"Pull the trigger," Harm instructed.

Mac did so without turning the gun and aiming it. The click of the empty chamber echoed in the room and Harm turned over to look at her.

"Make sense?" He asked, looking at her and then Darren.

Darren nodded slowly, coming toward the bed. "According to the police reports, the wound was on the right side of the crown. There’s no way she could have shot him from that position on the bed and hit him in that part of the head."

Harm nodded in satisfaction as he and Mac rose from the bed. "Exactly. I suspect that’s what the detective on the first case thought, too. I want to take a look at Gentry’s body and I think we should request an exhumation of Sergeant Forsythe."

"I don’t think I heard you correctly, Commander."

Harm smiled at the sarcasm in Admiral Chegwidden’s voice. "You did, sir. I want an order to exhume the body of Sergeant Forsythe, the first husband of Petty Officer Gentry."

"On what grounds?"

Briefly, Harm explained their theory regarding the deaths of both husbands and why they felt it important to have the remains of the first victim examined by a new pathologist.

"We found financial records for Petty Officer Gentry that show expensive spending habits far beyond her means or that of either of her husbands. We also found that the first husband had a million dollar life insurance policy. And, Admiral, there are just too many things that don’t add up. She was married to two separate men who were top rate marksmen and avid gun collectors yet one shot himself accidentally supposedly cleaning the gun and the other she shot accidentally because he left the gun loaded under his pillow.

Mac, Darren and I watched a video that the SPs made when they took her statement for this case at the house. They also had her demonstrate how she and her husband were laying when the gun went off. The angles of the entrance wounds on both men don’t match with the story she gave. We’ve already checked the reports on Gentry but we’d like to have a new exam done of Forsythe so we can compare," he explained further.

"Very well, Commander. I’ll have Bud counsel with the judge and get an order. We’ll have it to you ASAP."

"Thank you, sir."

Mac opened the door between their rooms at Harm’s knock and smiled. He eyed the flattering black pants and emerald green blouse she wore and smiled.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

She nodded. "Darren asked me to dinner."

Harm’s spirits took an immediate plunge. "Okay, well you look great."

"Thanks," she answered.

She turned away from him and went to slip on her shoes. Harm took the chance to look at her a little more closely. Her soft skin was alight with a glow of happiness. And her eyes sparkled in a way he hadn’t seen in a very long time. Darren seemed to be working subtle magic over her.

"Would you like to join us?" she asked, breaking into his thoughts.

Harm looked at her like she’d grown another head. "No, thank you, though." He flashed her a forced grin. "I was planning on going for a run."

"Be careful not to overdo it," she warned gently.

"I won’t," he answered. He turned to leave then stopped and looked back at her. "Mac…" He closed abruptly and gave her another smile. "Never mind."

"What was it?" she asked, taking a step toward him.

"Nothing. Go and have a good time," he told her and gently closed the door behind him.

Mac stared after him, confused by his behavior. A knock on the main door distracted her then and knowing it was Darren, she called for him to come in.

"Hey, pretty girl. Are you… what’s wrong?" he asked, noting her bemused expression.

Mac shrugged delicately and smiled at him instead. "Harm is acting funny," she murmured.

"Do you know why?"

"No. He seemed fine and then I told him you and I…" she paused when she saw a knowing look spread over Darren’s face. "What?" she asked.

"Do you think he could be a tad jealous?" Darren smiled slightly.

"I don’t know why," she muttered crossly. "He goes through blonde tornadoes like there’s no tomorrow and doesn’t seem to notice what I do or don’t do. Except for Mic but I don’t think that had anything to do with me thinking about marrying him."

"And why not?" Darren prompted.

"Because if he were jealous then why wouldn’t he do something to stop me? He stood right by and said he was happy if it was what I wanted. And if he’s jealous of you then why doesn’t he do something?" she cried, clenching her hands into fists.

Darren gently grasped her shoulders and kissed her forehead. "Maybe he can’t. A man’s pride is a dangerous thing. Don’t give up on him, Sarah. Maybe you just need to lay a different battle plan."

Mac was silent on the way to the restaurant and Darren knew she was thinking about Harm.

"Sarah?"

"Yes?" Mac asked as he parked the car and switched off the ignition.

"If I were ready to go after a woman, Harmon Rabb wouldn’t stand a chance."

Mac turned to him, her dark eyes finding his in the darkness of the cab. "That so?" she asked softly.

"That’s so. Make him see that he can’t live without you, Sarah. Life is fleeting and precious and when you think you’ll always have another tomorrow, it’s snatched away from you. Don’t let that happen to you and Harm. Don’t let day after day slip past thinking you’ll eventually get around to it. Lay your plan. Make him fight for you, make him see he can’t live without you. Make him wonder why he ever thought he could." He leaned forward slightly on the seat and grasped her hands. "I loved my wife more than I loved living. I’ve been down this road and I know how much it means. I know when I look at your partner that he loves you and I think in your heart you know it, too. There’s too much history between the two of you to deny it. So forget about wounded pride and whether or not he’s procrastinating and lay your cards on the table. Not like on the ferry in Australia but word for word. Corner him and give him no place to run. You’re a beautiful, smart, funny woman, Sarah MacKenzie. If you love him as much as you say you do then make it happen."

Mac stared at her new friend like he’d grown another head. His tender, heartfelt words filled her with a sense of being and brought tears rushing to her eyes. As they spilled over, he lifted his hands to brush them away and then he drew her tightly against him. Mac clung to him, feeling as if she’d found a lifeline she could trust in. Pulling back, she touched his cheek.

"You make it sound so simple," she whispered.

Darren’s gaze held hers. "It is simple. We’re the ones who make it hard."

"How did you get so smart?’ she asked, almost teasingly.

His eyes were sad. "I lost what I thought would be with me forever. And once it’s gone you can’t ever have it back. Death is a finality you can’t fight. I’m not saying that will ever happen to you and Harm but why put yourself through a lifetime of bitterness and regrets? I will tell you this, though, honey, if he can’t get his head out of the sand even after all that, then you let me know." He winked at her and that brought a laugh to her. "Now what do you say we get in there and have dinner?"

The warrant for the exhumation came by courier first thing and Harm immediately made arrangement for he and Mac to fly to Twentynine Palms where Sergeant Forsythe was buried. Darren stayed behind to continue gathering information on Petty Officer Cecilia Gentry. The three of them were convinced she had killed both of her husbands. Now all they had to do was convince a jury. A car picked Harm and Mac up when they got off the transport and took them to temporary base housing.

"I’ll be back to pick you up at 1430. The body will be delivered to the pathologist’s office and we’ll get started right away."

Harm smiled at the young man who stood in the hallway. "Thank you, Ensign Marks. We’ll be ready."

"Yes, sir."

Harm closed the door and turned around with a deep sigh. Sometimes travelling and staying in temporary quarters got really old. He picked his briefcase up and sat it on the small table before flipping it open. He stopped short when he saw a small jewelers box wrapped with a red ribbon. Hesitantly, he picked it up and pulled the ribbon free. There was no note or card anywhere in his briefcase or attached to the box. Frowning, he lifted the lid and his eyes widened slightly. Inside was a tiny tie tack shaped just like a Steerman. Lifting it from its bed of satin, he rubbed his index finger over the gold, feeling its warmth. Unbuttoning his jacket, he clipped it to the lower part of his tie where the jacket would hide it. Adornment was minimal with service uniforms but at least he would know it was there.

Mac must have given it to him. She was the only one who gave him Steerman things. Smiling, he went out of his room to the one next door and knocked. He heard her call ‘just a minute’ and then she opened the door. His mouth went completely dry as she tightened the belt of her robe and smiled a bit shyly at him.

"I just wanted to freshen up really quick before we had to go back," she announced in a rush.

Harm felt himself nodding. "Good idea," he finally managed. "I came to thank you for this." He touched his fingers to the tiny Steerman, drawing her eyes to it.

"It’s very pretty. Where did it come from?" she asked, her face a picture perfect mask of innocence.

"Like you don’t know," he teased, playing along with her.

"I don’t," she reiterated. "Who gave it to you?"

Harm stared at her hard, sure she was teasing him but she looked genuinely bemused. "I thought you did," he answered. "I guess I don’t know who it’s from then. There was no card. I was sure it was you," he mumbled almost to himself.

"I’m sorry, I wish it were," she smiled gently.

"I’ll let you get ready and I’ll come back when Ensign Marks gets here," he promised.

"I’ll be ready."

**********

They were shown into the pathologist’s office almost two hours and the officer in charge met them with a smile and a salute.

"Commander Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie, it’s a pleasure to have you with us."

"Captain Barba," Harm greeted, returning the salute and then shaking the hand the man held out.

Mac did the same and the Captain led them further into the room where a wrapped body lay on the table.

"Thank you for assisting us with this so quickly," Mac stated.

"No, problem, Colonel. We’ll get through this as quickly as possible. I understand you’re wanting to know the bullet trajectory?"

"Yes. The original autopsy report listed it as a suicide but we believe he was murdered. The investigation was that the deceased was cleaning his weapon when it discharged the round left in the chamber, killing him instantly," Harm explained.

"Okay. Well, let’s see what Sergeant Forsythe has to tell us," Captain Barba announced, snapping his gloves into place.

Harm and Mac watched in silence as the Captain unwrapped the body and started his examination. Taking pictures and making notations into a handheld recorder, he catalogued his findings. The body was in surprisingly good condition with minimal decay and when he got to the trajectory path, he called them over. With a pointer, he marked the path left by the single bullet that killed Sergeant Forsythe.

"Here is where it entered. It traveled straight in and you can tell by these scours that it was fired from close range. Also, you see these shadow markings?" Captain Marks pointed to a blackened area around the entry. "These are powder burns. The bullet was lodged here." He pointed to another area where tiny pieces of the skull were chipped away. "The report says it was removed to compare with the weapon it was fired from," he finished, looking up at them.

"The path you’re showing us couldn’t have been made if the victim was cleaning his weapon," Harm mused. "The entry point would have been straight in, wouldn’t it?" he asked the doctor.

Captain Marks nodded. "Probably in the middle of the forehead or depending on the angle he was holding it, maybe even into the neck and not the head at all."

"For it to have entered where it did," Mac interjected, "it would have to be fired from above the victim, correct?"

Captain Marks nodded. "Someone else fired, Colonel. The trajectory is moving at a downward angle from the upper portion of the right lobe. It stopped in a downward position to have cracked the bone like this. I’m not a cop but I would classify this one as a murder. I can tell you this man didn’t shoot himself accidentally and whoever shot him was at point blank range, which should rule out an accident," Captain Barba went on.

Harm nodded thoughtfully. "Which is what we suspected. Can you get you report ready for us immediately? We’ll take it back to Lejeune and have to pathologist take a look at it. Then we’ll compare both reports."

"Sure thing, Commander. Just give me a little more time."

***************

When Harm and Mac got back to Camp Lejeune, they met up with Darren and went to the forensic evidence lab. The senior pathologist, Captain Jack Morgan, took them to where the deceased Gentry was being kept.

"What are you hoping to find?" Captain Morgan asked as he pulled his gloves on.

"The first report agrees with the death by gunshot wound. What we want to know is if the tract of the bullet could have come from the gun under his pillow," Harm explained.

"I’ve read the reports. PO Gentry claims that she reached under her husband’s pillow for his gun because she thought she heard an intruder. The gun went off, killing her husband instantly."

"Correct," Harm nodded.

Captain Morgan simply nodded in return and went to work. Thirty minutes later, he called them over.

"The bullet entered here. The tearing of the skin and the bone fragments indicate a downward angle. The trajectory of the bullet once it entered pierced the skull and lodged here, directly in the frontal lobe. This means the gun was fired at point blank, probably pressed against the head," Captain Morgan explained as he moved back from the body.

"A downward angle?" Mac questioned. "It couldn’t have been downward. The gun was fired from beneath the pillow," she went on.

"It wasn’t," Captain Morgan raised his head and looked directly at them. "This man was not killed the way PO Gentry claims. The shot was fired from above. Judging from the tears and powder burns; I’d say not more than 2-3 inches but definitely from above. There’s no way it could have entered in this spot if it was fired from beneath the pillow and his head. There’s no way," he repeated emphatically.

Harm, Mac and Darren looked at each other then back to the pathologist.

"It wasn’t an accident," Darren stated heavily.

"It may have been," Captain Morgan interjected. "But it didn’t happen the way PO Gentry says."

As they left the lab, Darren was the first to break the silence.

"Gentry had a trust. His parents died in an accident four years ago. About a year before their deaths, they set up a trust fund for their future grandchildren. But in the event of their son’s death, if there were no children, the trust would revert to his wife."

"How much?" Harm asked grimly.

"Two million."

"There’s our motive," Mac told them. "And I say Cecilia Gentry killed both of her husbands for the old cliché of their money to support her expensive habits."

"We have enough to arrest her on," Harm put in.

"Let’s do it," Mac returned.

"You three did a fine job. Mr. James, we were glad to have you onboard and very grateful for all of your assistance," Admiral Chegwidden told the younger man firmly.

"Thank you, sir. I’m glad I was able to help. PO Gentry will be under military counsel from here on out."

"You’ll be notified when they’ll need you in court. Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie will be prosecuting," the Admiral went on.

Darren suppressed a small smile. "Yes, sir."

"Commander, Colonel, I will expect to see you both back tomorrow at 0800. Mr. James, I expect I’ll be seeing you again," A.J. finally smiled slightly.

"Yes, sir. I look forward to it," Darren answered.

"Dismissed."

"I thought I might find you up here."

Mac turned from the railing at the edge of the roof and smiled at Darren. Coming toward her, he held out a bouquet of roses. Smiling, she took them and buried her nose in the blooms to inhale their heady scent.

"They’re beautiful," she smiled. "Thank you."

"All unpacked?" he asked lightly as he propped his arms on the rail.

Mac nodded. "I’m glad to be home. Travelling gets old at times. Can I get you something to drink? Have you had dinner?" she asked.

"Yes and yes," he grinned.

They stared out at the early night sky, enjoying the silence of the night.

"Thank you for helping us with the case, Darren. We couldn’t have accomplished it as fast without your help," she told him.

"I doubt that," he teased. "Not the way you to work. Have you talked to Harm tonight?"

"No. I imagine he’s resting and unwinding before we go back to work tomorrow."

She was partly right. Harm changed and fixed himself something for dinner then set to unpacking his travel bag. Toiletries were first and then clothes and then… something shiny caught his eye and he reached back into the bag. Nestled there against the black lining was a silver-wrapped package with a shiny bow. Frowning, he pulled it out and then looked back inside hoping to find some kind of note. There was nothing else in the bag. He sat down on the bed, turning the small gift over in his hands. His secret admirer had struck again. This was getting a bit weird. He still believed it was his Jarhead but she usually couldn’t hide her feelings that easily from him. She looked sincere when she told him she didn’t give him the tie tack.

Slowly, he pulled the paper from the box, feeling a little like a kid at Christmas. The flaps of the box were next and a grin of surprise lit his features when he pulled away the tissue paper. Lifting the gift out, he stared in fascination. It was a miniature yellow Steerman and in the cockpit was a brown teddy bear wearing a flight suit and a helmet identical to what he wore in an F-14. Looking closer, he saw ‘Hammer’ painted on the front of the helmet and ‘Rabb’ on the breast pocket of the uniform. Harm laughed softly. It was wonderful and completely unique. And it was also custom-made. Then he was sure it had come from Mac. She was the only one who could have made sure the tiny details were so perfect. Clutching the keepsake tightly, he jumped up and headed for the front door, grabbing his keys on the way. He would just see if she could continue to play innocent.

Mac studied Darren for a long moment. He turned his head to catch her looking and smiled.

"What?" he asked.

"Just thinking," she answered.

"About anything in particular?"

"About how much alike we are," she stated.

"We have a lot of things between us," he agreed. "I think that’s what made us such good friends so fast."

"Harm has been my best friend for years but its different being with someone else," she admitted.

"It’s because I’m a neutral party," Darren teased.

"Partly. Darren, please tell me what happened to Mendova."

Darren turned serious at her question. "It is that important for you to know?" he asked.

"Yes, it is. I want to understand that part of you. If you truly don’t want to tell then I’ll understand but I really wish you would. And maybe talking about it will help you let it go," she murmured.

He was silent for a long time. Long enough for Mac to wonder if it was all the answer he was going to give her.

"After he killed Annette and Bobby, I went crazy. They pulled me from the case and ordered me on leave until they could get Mendova. But I couldn’t live with that, Sarah so I decided to go after him myself. I took my gun and lured him to a warehouse where I knew he conducted some of his deals. He met me there and I told him I was going to kill him. I knew it would be so easy. All I had to do was pull the trigger. He was standing right there in front of me and it would be so easy to kill him the same way he killed my family," he murmured in a tortured voice.

Darren turned to her with eyes that were dark with remembered pain. "He laughed about it, Sarah. He laughed and told me how easy it was and how scared they were when they went over the cliff."

Mac moved closer and covered his hands with her own; sorry now that’d she’d pushed him for the story. "Please, stop right there. I’m sorry I every pushed you for an answer, Darren," she whispered.

"No," he shook his head. "I want you to know." He took in a slow, deep breath and squeezed her hands. "As it turned out, the choice was made for me. My friend, Dan Kelley, is a Texas Ranger. He knew I would go after Mendova so they had a tail on me. If I’d been thinking clearly, I would have picked up on it but I didn’t until they burst into the warehouse. Mendova had a gun and went for me but Dan shot him. It was over that fast."

Darren pulled away from her and ran an agitated hand through his hair. Mac followed a little more slowly, stopping about a foot behind him.

"Instead of being glad that we were finally rid of him, I was mad because they cheated me of the chance to kill him myself. Dan said he knew I would have hated myself later for killing the man – no matter what the reasoning. I don’t know if that’s true or not and I never will. But I know if I were faced with it again, I would still want to kill him. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to suffer and cry just the way he made them suffer."

Mac touched his arm with gentle fingers and urged him toward her, slipping her arms around him as he turned. Darren held her tight as she rubbed her hands over his broad shoulders. "I’m sorry, Darren, so sorry. I can’t imagine what that must have been like. I’ve faced some situations with Harm before and…" she swallowed hard. "If something like that ever happened to him I’d kill the bastard responsible," she swore fervently.

Darren grip tightened on her and pressed his cheek to the top of her head. "Thank you," he murmured. "For making me get that out in the open."

He heard her muffled laugh against his neck. "For making you drag up all the bad memories? Yeah, that was a bright idea for me," she scoffed.

Darren pulled back just enough to look into her face. "It was a bright idea. I needed to let go of that. Sarah, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life locked up in the past. I hope someday to still have a family. I know I can love someone else, just in a different way than I loved Annette. And you know what?" he asked.

She smiled gently at him. "What?"

"You’ve become one of the best friends I’ve ever had, Sarah, and I hope we’re friends forever. Thank you for all the support you’ve given me and for being here when I needed someone the most. I love you for that," he stated.

Mac smiled, her eyes shining. "Thank you for the same. And thank you for making me see some things I’d been burying my head in the sand about. What we’ve been through has made me think long and hard about who I really love."

And those were the exact words the tall man standing a few feet away heard first. He must have the world’s worst timing. Refusing to slip away in silence this time, Harm allowed the door to slam behind him, getting the attention of Mac and Darren.

"Harm," Mac called, slowly moving back from Darren’s embrace. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

Harm’s eyes narrowed marginally as he walked forward. "I came to talk to you about something."

Darren glanced between the two and immediately felt the tension in the air. Sarah’s stubborn partner already had a firm assumption in his mind of what he interrupted. He released her the rest of the way and smiled.

"I’ll leave you two to talk. I have some things to finish up," he stated, bending to kiss her cheek.

A muscle in Harm’s cheek ticked as Darren left her side. He watched Mac whisper a goodbye and then the other man slipped by him and left. The two of them stood for a time looking at each other.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" she ventured, feeling the displeasure radiating from him.

"I wanted to thank you for this," he answered, holding the Steerman up.

"Harm…" she began.

"I know – you don’t know anything about it. I’m not buying that this time."

Finally she relented and a small smile played at the corners of her mouth. "It’s no big deal," she murmured.

"Why did you send them?" he probed.

She looked down for a moment at her clasped hands. "To get your attention."

"To get my attention?" he echoed. "Why?" he asked again.

She looked up and met his gaze. "Just what I said – to get your attention," she repeated. "I wanted you to take notice of me for once as something other than your partner."

"I’ve never thought of you as just my partner," he returned, feeling his heart beat faster.

"Then why won’t you let things go between us?" she asked.

Harm frowned and took a step forward. "Why won’t I let things go between us? What about Darren, Mac? You’ve been in his company so much lately that I couldn’t get time with you even if I wanted to," he retorted.

"What?" she gasped.

"You heard me," he muttered.

"No, I don’t think I did," she answered flatly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Are you trying to insinuate something, Harm?"

"I’m not insinuating anything – I don’t have to. What I’m saying is that you can’t have two men at the same time. If you wanted to get my attention, running around with Daren wasn’t the way to do it!"

"How dare you!" she hissed angrily, eyes flashing. "Darren and I are just friends but even if there were more, I don’t have to explain myself to you."

"That’s right, Mac, you don’t. But how on Earth would you expect me to believe it’s me you really want when you can’t wait around long enough to find out? First it was Lowne the Clown then Brumby and now this other guy. Maybe if you could wait just a little bit before running to the next…"

The crack of her open palm against his cheek resounded like a gunshot in the room. For an instant they stood there staring at each other – Harm’s eyes narrowed and cold, Mac’s face flushed and her eyes snapping.

"Get out," she whispered furiously.

Without a word, Harm turned on his heel and left, slamming the stairwell door behind him. Then as if the string holding her taut had snapped, Mac collapsed on the chair and started to cry, feeling huge pieces of her heart tearing loose. When and how did everything become such a mess? And why did it feel like there was some grain of truth to Harm’s words…

The End