The water was coming in faster and faster. If someone didn't get them out soon, they were going to die on this Godforsaken, floating tin can. And if that happened, he would never have a chance to do all the things he kept saying he'd do. Like volunteer his time. And teach his Godson how to play football. And watch Bud and Harriet grow old and more in love. Or become the next JAG when Admiral Chegwidden finally decides to retire. But most importantly, he was never going to get to tell the one woman he'd ever loved just how much he did love her. She was going to go on forever thinking that he was indifferent to her. That couldn't be the farthest from the truth.

"Commander! We have to do something!"

Harm looked between the two men trapped with him - Seaman James Thomas and the guard who was supposed to be escorting him, Lt. Robert Devereaux.

"What would you like me to do, Thomas? I'm a pilot and this isn't exactly a Tomcat!" he snapped back.

"I didn't kill anyone, Commander. You gotta believe me!" Thomas continued, inching in his way through the knee-deep water to Harm's side.

"I don't think it matters all that much now, do you?" Harm questioned angrily, struggling to keep his cool. "Besides, it's not up to me to decide."

"But you can convince the jury, can't you?" The young man pleaded eagerly, twisting his hands together as he shot a quick glance to where the seawater was pouring in.

"No, it's not, Seaman Thomas!" Harm shot back roughly, his control snapping. "It's my job to present the facts, not sway the jury! If you killed that girl then you'll get what you deserve! Make no mistake of that!"

Seaman Thomas shrank back under the force of Harm's thunderous gaze. He moved away a few feet, turning in on himself.

Lt. Devereaux looked to Harm. "Should we try again with the equipment? Maybe the water will lighten it enough to help us move it away," he suggested quietly.

"We can try," Harm nodded wearily, already afraid it was a lost cause.

Twenty minutes later they were both cursing the air blue and proving Harm's theory to be correct. The rescue equipment wasn't budging.

"We don't have any choice but to wait for them to break through from the outside," Harm sighed.

The water was getting deeper by the minute in the below deck area. Harm leaned back against the wall and braced his hands on his knees, staring at the water for a moment. He couldn't even sit down. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced toward Seaman Thomas. The young man had a pad of paper in his hand and was busily scratching something out.

"What are you doing?" Harm called.

"Writing a letter to my folks," he muttered without looking up. "You know, in case we don't make it outta here."

Harm and Devereaux exchanged a look. A few more minutes passed before Harm saw Devereaux move. He sloshed his way over to Thomas. The young man tore several sheets of paper from the tablet and handed them to the older man as Devereaux pulled a pen from his uniform pocket. He returned to where he'd been and started writing. He glanced up and caught Harm watching him.

"For my wife," he admitted by way of explanation. "Just in case," he tacked on.

Sighing, Harm decided maybe they had a good idea. He crossed the room to get his own paper and dug out a pen. Without hesitation, he started writing. The first letter was to Admiral Chegwidden. He wrote about how he'd first felt coming to JAG - how it seemed like a lifetime ago since that cocky young pilot swaggered into the bullpen thinking the world was at his feet.

The next letter was to Bud. Harm shifted and took note that the water was now to his thighs. Sighing, he began to write, hoping he could convey to his friend and coworker how much he valued him.

Harm carefully folded their letter and slid it into his pocket with the Admiral's. The water was getting and higher with every passing minute. It was to his waist now. He turned and rested the paper on the edge of a piece of equipment. Behind him, he could still hear the other two men writing away. He stared at the paper for a moment and then began to write.

see it. I started thinking about some of the things we've been through.

"Commander? Are you finished writing yours?"

Harm looked up at Seaman Thomas then down at his letter. "Yeah, I guess I am." He quickly folded the paper and then handed it and the other two letters to Thomas. "Thanks," he murmured gratefully.

"Sure."

"Captain, tell your men to work faster! We’re running out of time!’

Captain Lowell Travis glanced briefly at Mac and grimaced. "They’re going as fast as they can, Colonel, I assure you."

"Well, it isn’t fast enough, Captain Travis!"

Both Mac and the Captain turned at the new voice and saw Admiral Chegwidden striding toward them. Mac felt relief wash over her at the site of her commander.

"I expected to see my officer out of there by now!" A.J. bellowed angrily.

"Admiral, they’re working as fast as they can," Captain Travis retorted calmly.

"They damn well better be!" A.J. thundered.

The three of them stood watch as the rescue team continued to cut through the steel equipment that was blocking the only exit for Commander Rabb, Lt. Devereaux and Seaman Thomas. Seeing the pinched look on her face, A.J. calmly placed on hand on Mac’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. She gave him a grateful look then turned her eyes back to the ship before her.

The three men were floating at the very top of hold area, struggling to stay conscious in the frigid water. The air was growing thin and they had only minutes now until the compartment was completely filled with water. Their faces were pressed against cold metal as they sought to breathe in what precious little was left of their space. Out of the corner of his eye, Harm saw Lt. Devereaux disappear from sight. Harm lunged into the water and caught the man by his collar. Slinging his arms beneath Devereaux’s chin, Harm dragged him back to the surface and leaned back slightly, making sure the Lt.’s face was above water. Oblivion was pulling at Harm, too, and he fought to stay awake.

"Commander?"

"Yeah, Thomas?" Harm called raggedly.

Seaman Thomas was struggling for his every breath. "We’re not gonna make it, are we?"

"Think positive, Seaman. You’re a squid," Harm ordered, sucking in a shallow breath.

Seconds later only their noses and mouths were visible.

"Take a deep breath, Thomas!" Harm called weakly.

He managed to do the same just before they sank below the water’s surface. Harm blew part of the breath into Lt. Devereaux’s mouth then pushed himself up for another breath. It wasn’t going to work, he thought to himself. Dizziness swamped him from the lack of air and he felt his chest constrict. And then blackness was claiming him, too.

The rescue team yanked the last piece of broken equipment out of the way and stood back as water gushed out of the hold. Along with it came the still bodies of Harm, Lt. Devereaux and Seaman Thomas.

"Harm!" Mac cried, rushing forward into the water.

She reached for his body and turned him over to his back, checking for a pulse. Tipping his head back, she cupped one hand around his chin and the pinched his nose with the other. Fitting her mouth to his, Mac blew in one quick breath. She turned to look at his chest. Nothing. She blew another breath and looked again. Still nothing. She started to blow once more when he gasped, immediately coughing as air filled his lungs. Mac got him by the neck and shoulders and lifted him up, holding him up against her as she moved partway behind him. She held him gently, his own heart beating frantically as he pressed his face into the soft pillow of her breasts. Harm drew in several shallow gasps. Mac stroked his head, sliding her fingers through his wet hair.

"Are you all right?" she murmured.

"Yeah," he gasped, his voice hoarse.

"Colonel, we’re going to take him to Bethesda. You’re welcome to ride along."

Mac glanced up at the medic and nodded. The men helped Harm up and quickly got him on the gurney before loading him into the ambulance. Mac climbed in next to him and they were on their way.

Mac was exhausted. She’d stayed at Bethesda all night with Harm before taking him home this morning. The doctor ordered rest for the next day or so and Admiral Chegwidden was making sure Harm carried out the order.

"Colonel?"

Mac looked at as Bud knocked gently on her door. "Come in, Bud. What are you still doing here?" she asked.

"This was just delivered for you, ma’am," he answered, crossing the room to hand her a letter. There was an identical one in his hand.

"What is this?" she asked, turning it over. "This is Harm’s handwriting," she murmured.

"Yes, ma’am. I already took the Admiral’s to him. There’s one here for Harriet and I, too," Bud told he, holding up his envelope.

"Do you know what it is?" Mac questioned.

"No, ma’am, but I’ll leave you to read it," he smiled and backed out of the room.

The office was almost deserted. Mac leaned back in her chair slightly and gently pried up the flap. The scent of seawater clung to the white paper and the ink spelling out her name was slightly smudged. She drew the single sheet out and began to read. By the time she was finished with the simple letter, her hands were shaking and she was struggling to hold back tears. Of all the things she expected to find… Mac jumped to her feet and turned off her desk light. Grabbing her purse and jacket, she rushed out of the office.

Harm was already bored. Since it was already Thursday, the doctor at Bethesda had ordered him to take the rest of the week off and return to work on Monday and Admiral Chegwidden had seconded the ordered. Both Seaman Thomas and Lt. Devereaux would recover as well. He wondered how they were doing at the office. Probably just fine without him, he thought glumly as he paced the floor of his living room. The doorbell rang, startling him from his thoughts. Harm strode quickly across the room and jerked it open.

"Mac, come in! I didn’t expect…" he broke off abruptly when he noticed the look on her face and her red-rimmed eyes. "What’s wrong? Has something happened?" he demanded, grasping her hand and pulling her into the loft.

"No, I…" she started and the stopped, fidgeting with her purse.

"Let me have that."

He took her purse and cover and hung them on the coat rack then motioned toward the couch. "Can I get you something to drink?" He offered.

"No," she gave a quick shake of her head. "I’m fine. Can we sit down?" she asked.

"Of course," he moved to the side and let her seat herself first before he lowered his tall frame down next to her.

"This was delivered to me tonight. In it you wished for a chance to tell me openly the same thing you wrote. Here’s your chance," she stated in a rush, producing the letter he hadn’t noticed she had and holding it out to him.

Harm recognized what she had the second he looked at it. His heart sank as he jerked his eyes back to hers. But he didn’t see any signs of anger or reproach in her lovely face. Instead he saw something that looked like hope in her eyes. He cleared his throat slightly and took the paper from her.

"It’s all the truth," he murmured, not sure where to start. He raised his eyes to hers. "I love you, Mac," he murmured simply.

She smiled then – the brightest, warmest smile he’d ever seen, her eyes shining. "Then I don’t need you to repeat the rest. I love you, too."

The End