Title: "King of Infinite Space"
Author: Selena gonzo112376@yahoo.com
Summary: This episode is more of a character piece
and deals with a sad topic. Be warned, and send any
negative reactions to me, not our lovely VS admins.
And if the title doesn't make any sense, read the
quote.
Disclaimer: The characters within belong to a whole
lot of people who are not me. They actually have a
lot more money that I do, so they probably shouldn't
sue.
Special thanks to Susan, Beta Reader and Friend. Any
errors that remain are the only things that actually
do belong to me.
". . . I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams." ~William Shakespeare's 'Hamlet' Act II, Scene II
Cue eerie music, reminiscent of the now-defunct "X-Files," and fade in on the following:
A dense, misty fog swirls in sweeping patterns along what seems to be a deserted, wooded path. The only sounds come from the snapping and rustling of leaves and braches violently pushed aside and the ragged breathing of someone unseen. A sense of urgency is felt, but no action appears on the darkened scene until a blurred, white image races into a clearing that borders a dark, rippling lake. The pounding of footsteps is echoed by the crunching sounds made by the broken glass and shells that litter the shore underfoot. But nothing can cover the sound of the single scream that rips through the air as the woman finally stops and looks around her . . .
And with that scream echoing in both her head and her own shadowy bedroom, Mac sat up and tried to catch her breath. Her eyes automatically went towards the phone on her bedside table, and her hand reached for it as if by instinct. Another instinct, however, stopped her from dialing the familiar number. She couldn't call him again. She wouldn't let herself.
Instead, she pulled back her hand, willing it to steady as she sat up slowly and focused her thoughts to the dream. Though she didn't not want to, Mac tried to make herself remember before all the foggy images faded once again. As the light from the street lamps creeped into her bedroom, the scenes that so recently played in her mind slipped away. The images were now just like the wispy fog that always began the dream.
Wrapping her arms around her knees and pulling them forward, Mac told herself that that was all it was. A dream, a nightmare. Not a vision . . . at least not one she could understand.
Mac was shaken enough that she glanced at the alarm clock beside her bed. With a sigh, she stared at the glaring red numbers, knowing that she wouldn't be getting anymore sleep tonight. Acknowledging the fact that she had become used to that, she leaned heavily against her headboard and waited for the sun to rise.
Fade out. Cue theme music.
*~*~*~
Commercial: "Can you name each and every 'Survivor'?
Do you know your own 'Fear Factor'? Would you really
like a chance to meet your dream mate on a lonely,
Alaskan pipeline? Then we have the show for you.
From the network that started the reality television
phenomenon, CBS proudly presents our newest hit show,
'Middle School Melodrama.' In this groundbreaking new
show, our cameras go undercover in our nation's middle
schools to see what really happens when adolescents
stop being polite . . . and start getting real.
Public education has never been this entertaining.
Begins August 15th."
*~*~*~
Cue 'whimsical JAG' music. Fade in on exterior of JAG
offices, daylight.
0625 EST
Tuesday, July 9th
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
Mac needlessly straightened her uniform as she stepped off the elevator and into the bullpen. Because of the early hour, the office seemed all but empty, and she was glad to walk unnoticed to her office and close the door behind her. Her goal was to drink the coffee she'd picked up on her way in and make her way through the case files that had piled up during her recent investigation.
The coffee at her elbow had grown cold by the time she heard a knock at the door. Before she could answer, the door opened, and Harm walked a few steps into the room to say good morning. His grin faded, however, when he got a good look at his partner and noticed the shadows that were apparent on her face. Carefully closing the door behind him, he made his way into the room and stopped when he reached Mac's desk.
"You okay?"
Mac bit back a sigh at the question, and then watched as Harm lowered himself into a chair. She almost winced as she watched the way he slightly favored his knee as he sat, but then realized that this was as good a distraction as any.
"You're walking even better, Harm. I guess the therapy is going well, huh?"
Harm waved off the comment, and leaned forward. "Mac, what's going on?"
Looking down at the case file in front of her, she replied, "It seems that the sixteen year old son of a Navy Lieutenant decided to take a neighbor's BMW Roadster for a joyride. Unfortunately for the boy, and his mother, the car just happens to belong to a two star."
"Thank you for the exciting summary, counselor, but we're both aware that that's not what I'm asking. What's wrong?"
Mac began to shuffle the stacks of paper on her desk. "What makes you think something is wrong?"
"Mac." With that single word, Harm waited until Mac's eyes met his.
She realized that he wasn't going to let it drop, so she set everything on her desk and looked up. "Seriously, Harm, I'm fine. You know the Hewitt case took a lot out of me, and not long before that we had our little adventure in Afghanistan. I'm just a little tired. That's it."
He didn't want to push, not when things had been going so well between them. And because things had been working, and working well, he reached over to brush softly at the shadowed, delicate skin beneath Mac's eyes. With a ghost of a smile, Mac let her hand reach up to gently grasp Harm's. They kept the contact for just the briefest moment, before breaking away. As if they both remembered where they were, they relaxed back into their seats.
By unspoken agreement, they let the subject drop and attempted safer topics. Harm laughed as Mac told him of the further adventures of the Teen BMW bandit, and then he filled Mac in on the disorderly conduct case he was trying against Sturgis in the following days.
"And speaking of Sturgis, I have a meeting with him in half an hour. I might just have an offer he can't refuse." Harm began to rise, but turned at the sound of Mac's voice.
"I don't know, Harm. It sounds like he's going to give you a run for your money. You up to the challenge?"
Raising an eyebrow, Harm replied, "You have to ask?"
With a smile, Mac countered, "Well, you are just getting back on your feet, so to speak. I was just wondering if you needed any help."
"No, I can . . ." Stopping himself, Harm considered for a split second. "Well, if you can tear yourself away from the glamorous world of grand theft auto, I could use another opinion."
"I can look over the notes this evening, if you want." Mac hesitated for just a moment, and then tentatively added, "Or we can talk about it over dinner tonight. It won't be as nice as the other night, but I think I can spring for Chinese."
Two dinners in one week . . . and maybe this one would also be followed by another mind-blowing kiss. With that thought in mind, Harm smiled in return. "I think it's only fair that if I bring the case, I have to bring the food, too. Your place at 1900?"
"Sounds great."
Harm merely nodded again and opened the door. He stopped, however, when Mac called to him to wait. He turned just in time to hear her say, "And, Harm . . . thanks."
*~*~*~
Commercial: "Hello, I'm Brittney Christina Jennifer
Moore from the teen sensation group Destiny's Beat,
and I just wanna tell all my fans out there to drink
new Dr. Fun. It's the one soda that will help you to
get a recording contract, just like me. Try Dr. Fun.
It's like the most wonderful soda in the whole entire
world . . . and stuff."
*~*~*~
1945
Tuesday, July 9th
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown, Virginia
"You know, you really should have let me pay for the food. You didn't even have to bring a case," Mac announced as she made herself comfortable in the corner of the couch.
Shrugging, Harm grabbed a bottle of water from the coffee table before sitting next to her. "I can't help it if Sturgis wised up and took my offer."
"I guess no one can resist that Rabb charm, huh?"
Harm accepted the teasing with a smile, which faded when he said, "So, do you wanna talk about it yet?"
Mac had been waiting for this conversation all evening, and she was quite impressed that Harm had managed to keep away from the topic for so long. Turning towards him, she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. "I don't want to, no."
Nodding slightly, Harm let out a slow breath and said, "Fair enough. I won't . . ."
Mac interrupted, "I said I didn't want to, but I need to. I think we'll both agree that we don't do well when we keep things from each other."
Harm leaned forward a bit uncomfortably and said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the whole knee surgery thing, Mac. I wish now . . ."
Interrupting again, Mac smiled softly. "I know, and it's okay. Why don't we stop focusing on the past and work on the present?"
Harm reached over and placed a hand on Mac's, the brief touch signifying his agreement and thanks. Though he didn't want to break contact, Harm saw the resolve on Mac's face. Relaxing back into the sofa, he waited for her to begin.
"I guess it started when I was investigating the Hewitt case. Or maybe I should say that they started."
When she trailed off, Harm offered, "They? Visions?"
Mac met Harm's gaze and relaxed when she realized that it wasn't judgment or cynicism on his face. Instead, it was concern and understanding. The understanding she saw allowed her to continue. "I've been calling them nightmares. They're not clear enough to call them visions, or at least I haven't been able to figure out what they mean if they are."
Harm took a sip of water and asked, "How often are they happening?"
"The first one was during the investigation."
"The night you called?"
Remembering, Mac shifted a little in her seat before answering, "Well, that wasn't the first, but I did have one that night."
"So, you had several during the case. How about since you've been home?"
The calm way Harm asked the question gave Mac a sense of calmness herself, so she answered, "Almost every night now."
Sympathy coating his voice, Harm said, "And they're getting worse?"
Mac wanted to get up and pace the floor as she spoke, but instead she continued to link gazes with Harm. "That's the thing. They're not getting worse, not better. They're the same, every single time, and I have no idea what they mean or why they're happening or what I can do about them."
Just as much as Mac wanted to pace, Harm wanted to move over and hold her. He wouldn't allow himself that comfort for either of them, though, until he asked his next question. "Will you tell me about them?"
Taking a deep breath, she continued, "They're not like before. I mean, when Chloe was missing, it came as part of a dream. There was scenery and sound I didn't recognize, but then when I did see them, I knew."
"And you found her . . . just like you found me."
"No, it was different with you. When it was Chloe, it just happened. With you, I willed myself to do it. I had to." A gentle smile came to her face. "Failure, as they say, was not an option."
Harm allowed himself just a moment to look at her, but then he knew they both needed to go on, so he asked, "And the other times, was it different?"
A more serious expression came to Mac's face as she said, "The dream with Commander Aiken was different. I guess I never told you this. I don't think I told anyone. When I saw Commander Aiken's murder, when I saw what happened to her . . . well, it was me."
It took a moment for realization to dawn on Harm's face. He began slowly, "In the dream, it was you. You saw yourself murdered." Mac nodded in response, but her eyes never left Harm's. He continued, "Is that what's happening now? Do you see yourself? Are you in danger?"
Mac read the fear on Harm's face, and she wanted more than anything to comfort him. It was now her turn to place a hand over his. "No, that's not what's happening now. In the dream, I'm not even sure it's me."
With a gentle squeeze of his hand, she released it and leaned back again, detaching herself so she could share the events that always unfolded in the dream. "There's a forest, and it's dark and silent. Someone is running. You can hear her panting as she's tearing through the trees, and then she comes out at this clearing by a lake. She's still running, and she doesn't want to stop, but she finally has to or she'll go into the water, and then she looks and . . ."
Mac didn't realize she was looking down until she felt Harm's hand gently raise her chin. "And then what, Mac?"
"And then she screams, and I wake up."
His hand had moved to cup her face, so Harm stared into Mac's eyes. "But what does she see? What do you see?"
"I don't know. I mean, I don't know if she never sees it, or if I just can't, or if I'm not meant to. I just don't know. Or maybe I'm quite possibly losing my mind."
The hopeless sound of Mac's voice tore at Harm, and this time he allowed himself to pull her into his arms. His own hopes lifted when he felt not even a second's hesitation before Mac leaned into him.
Keeping his voice light, he said, "Well, it just sounds like we need to think it through."
Surprising herself, Mac laughed lightly. "So, we're just going to sit here on my sofa, with you holding me, by the way, and figure this out whether or not I'm going crazy?"
"Yep, that pretty much sums it up. But it is getting late, so maybe we won't figure everything out tonight." When Mac didn't reply, Harm added tentatively, "But if you're unsure about the holding you thing, we can take that out of the equation."
Mac turned her head so she could read Harm's expression and he could in turn see hers. "No, I don't want you to stop, and I'm going to try not to wonder where it's going to lead."
Harm paused for a long moment before he answered, "I hope that eventually it will lead to where we've been heading for years, but for tonight, it's just one friend holding onto another."
"And one friend leaning on another." Mac closed her eyes for just a second. "Leaning. That's something I've never been good at."
"I'm not here because you need me, Mac. I know you can handle this, or anything else that comes your way. In fact, you've saved my butt more times than I care to count . . . or admit, so I have a pretty good idea of what you can handle. I just wanted you to know that you don't have to always do it alone."
Harm paused to let that thought sink in, but he couldn't decide whether Mac's silence was a good or bad thing. After a moment, he asked, "So, let's start with what we know."
Mac forced herself to go into investigative mode, though that was a bit difficult to do as her senses were filled with Harm's scent and the feeling of his arms around her. Instead of making herself forget these sensations, she used them. "Okay, here's what we know. First, Chloe's safe."
"You've called her?"
"Three times, and I've e-mailed every day. Now she thinks I'm totally bored, very nosey, or just absolutely crazy."
Harm grinned. "But at least you know she's okay."
"True. And we know that you're okay, and so's Sergei . . . and your mom says hi, by the way." Mac finished that sentence a little sheepishly.
Harm looked at her incredulously. "You called my mom?"
"I've called half the population of this hemisphere, Harm. Let's just move on."
Absurdly touched that Mac would even think of his mom, Harm smiled widely before he continued, "Okay, moving on. We know that everyone at work is okay, and Harriet chats with Bud on the computer at least ten times a day." He paused before he asked, "Um . . . what about the other hemisphere?"
Mac was amused that Harm would even ask this, but she smothered a grin and replied, "Mic's fine, Harm, but I have to say, that's not necessarily a phone call I would want to make again."
"Okay, so, you really have covered all the bases then. Wait, what about your family?"
Mac tensed a bit, but tried to relax before Harm could notice. She answered slowly, "I phoned Uncle Matt earlier, and everything is okay there. It was good to talk to him. Even though he's still not thrilled with the idea of my seeing him in prison, I think he would like another visit. In any case, he's okay, so my family's fine."
"What about your mom?"
Mac pulled away, not to evade, but so she could really look at Harm. Even though she pulled from his embrace, she still left her hand intertwined with his. "I don't know where she is. After dad's funeral, we went our separate ways. It wasn't harsh or painful, there weren't any scenes. She just left . . . again. I did get a phone number this time. I even tried it a time or two, but it never worked. There was never anyone there, and now it's out of service."
"So you have no idea where she could be?"
"None." Mac allowed herself to rise and pace this time. Without looking at Harm, she quietly said, "You would think I would know, even without this gift or these visions or whatever you want to call it. You would think that the bond between a mother and daughter would be so strong that even if you were miles apart, you would still have this sense of each other. We just don't have that, and the pity of it is that we never did. We never even . . ."
By this time, Mac had turned her back to Harm. She stopped when she felt the pressure of his hands on her shoulders. "Harm, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone there tonight. I'm just tired, and everything's still all jumbled up . . ."
Turning Mac towards him, Harm replied, "No apologies. I think that maybe you needed to go there, and I'm hoping that you'll talk to me about it again some day."
When Mac nodded, he said, "But I do agree that you're tired, and I think that we're not going to figure everything out in one night. So, here's what you're going to do. You are going to go throw on some pajamas and get into bed and have a wonderful night's sleep."
Needing to add some levity to the night, Mac asked sweetly, "And are you going to tuck me in, Sailor?"
Giving it several seconds worth of thought, Harm finally replied, "As tempting as that offer is, I'm going to pass, Marine." His expression turned serious as he said, "I'm not going to ask if you want me to stay, either. I'm not entirely sure either of us is ready for that quite yet, but I do want you to call if you need anything, or if you remember something, or even if you need to hear a friendly voice."
With that, Harm placed his lips on Mac's, and he felt the way she leaned into the kiss . . . . and him. He allowed his hands to rest on her shoulders a few moments longer before he saw himself to the door and whispered, "Good night."
Mac watched him leave, and she still stood there long after he was gone. Quietly she turned and walked to her bedroom, hoping for at least one night without dreams.
*~*~*~
Commercial: Oooooh, look! It's a bunch of "cool"
people wearing really "cool" clothes doing really
"cool" things like running away from adoring crowds,
pouring lemonade by a pool, and riding bikes while
listening to really "cool" retro music. Gee, I wish I
were "cool" like them. (Yep, must be a Gap ad.)
*~*~*~
0830 EST
Wednesday, July 10th
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
Mac wasn't surprised the next morning when Harm was waiting in her office with a cup of coffee and a smile. "What time did you get here, Commander?"
"What, no 'good morning' or 'nice to see you' or 'thanks for the coffee?'"
Skirting the desk, Mac took the coffee and said in a sweet voice, "Good morning. Nice to see you. Thanks for the coffee." Sitting she continued flatly, "Now, what do you want?"
Harm edged onto the corner of the desk. "I simply wanted to stop in and share some of Starbucks' finest."
Mac took a sip, nodded, and then said, "And you wanted to check up on me." As Mac said the words, she didn't feel the resentment that had so often accompanied them. It was a little odd, though, that she felt comforted, even comfortable with the thought.
Reading the smile on Mac's face as a good thing, Harm countered, "Yeah, well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. So, how'd you sleep?"
"Actually, I slept fine."
Harm raised a brow in question, causing Mac to reach over and lay a hand on his. "We've been working on the honesty thing, remember?"
"You're right, we have been working on honesty . . . among other things."
Turning his hand over under Mac's, Harm leaned forward as their palms met. Their lips were only inches away when Mac sighed, "No, stop. We can't do this."
Harm jerked back as though he'd been burned. He began to apologize, but Mac stopped him, "Harm, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant we can't do this here."
Relief flooded through him as Harm took a deep breath. He tried to relax as he said, "So, we can do it other places?"
With laughter in her voice, Mac replied, "Yes, we can do this other places." Slowly, she continued, "In fact, I would like it a lot. The last few weeks have been wonderful. Really working together, the dinners, the talks . . ."
At Harm's cocky smile, Mac said, "And the kissing's been okay, too." She kept her voice flat, but she remembered the kisses, both of them, quite well.
"Just okay? You do realize we're going to have to work on that, Colonel. Perhaps another dinner is in order."
Leaning back in her chair, Mac replied, "Three dinners in the span of two weeks, Commander. People might begin to talk."
Instantly more serious, Harm asked, "And if they did?"
Mac replied with equal intensity. "Then we should give them something to talk about. Saturday night?"
"It's a date."
Mac couldn't help but smile. "Three in one week . . . three in six years."
"Yeah, well, it's usually good to take things slowly." With this, Harm leaned forward again, allowing himself one quick kiss. Before Mac could say anything else, he was up and out the door, calling out a light, "Have a good day, Colonel," as he walked out the door
Cue whimsical JAG music.
Scene cut to . . .
1315 EST
Wednesday, July 10th
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
He told himself he wasn't checking up on her. He even went so far as to bring a file with him as he walked to her office. He couldn't, however, for the life of him tell what was in said file. The thought embarrassed him more than a little, but it didn't stop him from knocking sharply on Mac's office door. He entered before she had a chance to reply and stopped cold when he saw Mac's stiff posture as she spoke on the phone and quickly scribbled notes.
Harm was silent as he moved behind Mac. He gently kneaded her shoulders, but wouldn't let himself look at the notes she was creating. He continued in silence until he heard her say a quiet, "Thank you, officer. I'll be in contact as soon as I can."
Mac slowly hung up the phone and took a deep breath before she turned the chair to face Harm, who had crouched down to eye-level. "Talk to me, Mac."
Her voice unsteady, she simply said, "It's my mother."
Cue dramatic JAG music
*~*~*~
Commercial: Coming soon to DVD . . . Fourteen
different version of the epic film, "Lord of the
Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring." Each version
will have a different special feature so that all
those die-hard fans will have to shell out $29.99 for
each and every one of them. Get yours . . . all of
'em . . . in about two more months . . . just so you
can wait another couple months to see the next movie."
*~*~*~
Cue sad, foreboding JAG music
Fade in on the Admiral's office
Mac sat stiffly in the Admiral's office as the older man sat at the desk across from her. "Your leave has been approved, Colonel."
Mac's words were as formal as her stance as she replied, "Thank you, Sir. I'm not working on very many cases at the moment, so I'm sure it won't be an inconvenience for Commander Rabb to pick them up."
"I'll be dividing your caseload between Commander Turner and Lieutenant Singer."
Mac looked questioningly at her commanding officer. "Sir?"
The Admiral rose and circled his desk, finally leaning lightly upon it. He looked down at his chief of staff and spoke softly. "Mac, I'm so sorry about your mother, and I know there's nothing I can do or say to help. Maybe there's nothing that anyone can do right now, but I am at least going to offer leave to Commander Rabb. If you agree, I know he'll want to go with you."
"And if I don't?"
"Then we'll chalk it up to the fact that the Commander's had a pretty rough time of it as of late, and I'm giving him some more vacation." A.J. crossed his arms over his chest. "The choice is yours."
Mac merely nodded. "Thank you for giving it to me, Sir. I appreciate . . . well, I appreciate your understanding." With that, Mac rose and came to attention.
The Admiral nodded and smiled sympathetically as he dismissed Mac. She walked out his door and found Harm not-so-subtly waiting at Tiner's desk. "You okay?"
Mac nodded her head towards Harm's office, and neither of them spoke again until they'd closed the door and settled themselves inside. Both sat in the chairs facing Harm's desk and turned so their knees brushed.
It took Mac a moment and a few deep breaths before she began, "I guess the next step is to figure out transport. Once I get there, I'll talk with the local sheriff's department and make the official identification. Then I . . . well, I'll just figure out where to go from there."
Harm sat in silence a moment before he said, "When do you leave?"
"I don't know. I'm going to look for flights and a hotel now, but I honestly don't know if the place has an airport. I don't even have a clue where it is."
Remembering the notes Mac had shown him earlier, Harm stood and rounded his desk. He sat at the computer and pulled up the Internet. Before Mac could argue, he began searching for information about the small Virginia town.
"Abingdon. Okay, it says here that it's in the southwestern part of the state, almost bordering on Tennessee. The closest airports are relatively small, looks like one is just a paved strip." A few moments passed, and Mac had moved to rest her hip on the corner of the desk. Harm reached over quickly, squeezing Mac's hand before he returned to the screen. "The other, Tri-Cities, does have flights . . . but it looks like we'll have to connect through Charlotte or Pittsburgh."
Mac stifled a frustrated sigh. "What's the driving time?"
It took a few minutes, but Harm pulled up another screen. He turned and placed his hands lightly on Mac's. "Almost seven hours."
"So, seven hours on the interstate or who knows how long navigating several airports." Closing her eyes, Mac buried her head in her hands.
"Hey, we'll work something out. I promise."
Those soft words made Mac raise her head slowly. She felt Harm's gaze on her, and then she spoke slowly. "Harm, the Admiral told me he's giving you leave, too. He said that if you wanted, you come with me."
She'd spoken the words so quietly that Harm could barely hear them. Not moving his gaze from hers, he replied, "Do you want me to?"
For the first time that day, tears began to form in Mac's eyes. Her voice cracked as she said, "I don't know if I want you to. It scares me that I think I need you to."
Harm thought he knew how much that statement cost her. Everyone she'd needed before, including the woman she was mourning now, had left her. Sarah MacKenzie hadn't needed anyone in a very long time. With that knowledge, he said, "Then I'll be there. Just tell me when and where."
~*~*~*~
Commercial: Have you ever wondered how far the
networks would go in their bid to outdo one another in
the latest "Reality TV" craze? Well, look no further.
CBS has the most outrageous reality show yet. Coming
this fall to Sunday night is "Trading Mates." In this
groundbreaking, new show, couples will swap partners
for 48 hours while given a budget of only $1,000.
Watch the drama unfold this fall. CBS. Welcome home.
~*~*~*~
1350 EST
Thursday, July 11th
Interstate 81 South
Harmon Rabb had come to two major conclusions during the past several hours. First, he now firmly believed that I-81 was the most boring stretch of highway in the continental United States. Secondly, he was afraid that Mac was avoiding him, which she'd somehow managed to do sitting less than a foot away.
Taking his eyes off the straight, tree-lined highway for only a second or two, Harm cast a sideways look at Mac. He'd picked her up midmorning, and she'd given him what almost passed for a smile as they'd loaded her small bag into the trunk. Armed with a state map, she climbed into the passenger seat of his SUV, but soon her attention had been given to the blurred shaped outside her window. After they'd left the hectic roads of northern Virginia, Harm had looked over to hopefully start some sort of conversation. He'd seen her eyes were closed, but there was still a look of concentration on her face, as though she was still deep in thought, even as she slept.
In the past hours, Mac had managed to keep her nose buried in the map, watch the passing scenery, and sleep, or at least pretend to. Now, judging by the road signs, he saw that they were less than an hour away from their destination. He reached a hand over to rouse her. She rubbed her eyes gently and then tried to joke, "Are we lost yet?"
"You doubt my sense of direction, Marine" Harm spared her a quick glance, and then turned his attention back to the road. "We'll be in Abingdon before too much longer. Do you want to stop and get something to eat before we get there?"
Mac tried to clear her head a bit before she spoke. "I'm not really hungry."
At that, Harm gave Mac a disapproving look, and rubbed his neck as he changed lanes. Mac fought a small wave of guilt as she realized the time. "You must need a break, Harm." She looked out at an upcoming exit sign, "We can get gas, you can grab a bite to eat, and we'll call ahead to the sheriff's department to schedule a time to meet the contact."
Harm nodded and eased the car onto the exit. He considered goading Mac into eating, but then he realized just what she would have to do after they reached the small, historic town. With that thought in his mind, he didn't feel much like eating, either. They pulled into an Exxon station, and he watched as Mac released her seat belt. She almost had her door opened when Harm stopped her by gently grasping her arm. She looked at him, and with a little annoyance in her voice said, "I figured I'd get the gas, and you can go grab some food and maybe a couple of drinks."
Fighting annoyance of his own, Harm realized that Mac was building the wall between them again. The same wall that they had worked so hard to break through during their first case together, the one that kept Mac from coming to Harm when she ran into trouble with her ex-husband. The one that had made another, stronger appearance when Harm had returned after yet another stint at flight duty. That wall had gone up and come down so many times that Harm wondered when it would either crumble, or become firmly cemented, for good.
Harm squeezed her arm and released it. "Wait. Please."
Mac relaxed back into her seat and took a deep breath. She knew she wasn't being fair to Harm. He'd come with her when he was in no way obligated to, he'd put up with an entire state's worth of silent treatment, and now he was being so kind that Mac could hardly stand it. She closed her eyes briefly before she spoke, "I'm sorry, Harm. I know I'm not the best company on this road trip. I shouldn't have asked you to come."
"You didn't ask me, Mac. I offered. And now I'm offering to listen."
For a moment or so, they listened to the hum of the traffic passing below, and then Mac began, "I told you most of it. They contacted me from the Abingdon sheriff's office saying they believed they'd found my mother and they needed me to come and make a positive identification. Honestly, they didn't go into any more detail than that, they even apologized but said they couldn't release more information without positive ID." Mac stopped and stared down at her hands, but continued in a broken voice. "They wanted to help, to see if they could prevent my coming all the way down here if it really wasn't her, so they asked if I could describe any personal items. And you know what, Harm? I couldn't tell them a single thing. I had absolutely no idea what would be special to my own mother; what jewelry she would wear or what clothes she would bring with her. Nothing. I don't even know what she would be doing here."
After Mac trailed off, Harm took a chance and took her hand in his. "None of that is your fault, Mac. She left you a long, long time ago." When Mac wouldn't look at him, he added, "And that wasn't your fault, either."
Mac did look at him this time; she wanted to thank him, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she brought their joined hands to her lips for a fleeting moment. Harm squeezed her hand and let go after a long pause. "So, I'll go take care of everything while you make the phone call."
Mad nodded, and Harm left her staring once again out of the window.
Cue mournful JAG music Scene cut to...
1430 EST
Thursday, July 11th
Johnston Memorial Hospital
Abingdon, Virginia
A town deputy, dressed in crisp, dark gray led Mac and Harm down a long corridor. "We wanted to thank you, ma'am, for coming, though we hate to put you through this."
Mac was charmed by the man's accent and demeanor. She could tell that he'd said those words too many times before, but he somehow managed to sound sincere as he said them. "Thank you, Deputy Meade." Mac took a deep breath as they paused at a set of closed double doors, and she looked towards the police officer.
"I'm sorry that we don't have a sophisticated viewing system, ma'am. The hospital allows us to use their morgue, but there isn't a viewing window. Will you both be making the ID?"
Both Harm and Mac spoke at the same time, his "yes" barely audible when mixed with her firm "no."
Deputy Meade looked at them briefly and then excused himself to a spot several feet away. Mac looked up at Harm, "I'm not asking you to do this, Harm . . . and please don't tell me that you're offering. I can't, and I won't let you."
Harm knew he had to accept that. He placed his hands on Mac's shoulders and whispered close to her ear, "You don't have to do everything alone, Sarah."
Whispering in return, Mac countered, "And some things, I have to."
She released Harm and quietly called the police officer's name. He turned and then lighted grasped her elbow as he led her into the room, leaving Harm standing outside, leaning against the wall.
It seemed a lifetime, but it was only a minute or so until Mac returned to him. Harm noticed the paleness and the firm set to Mac's jaw. He also saw the brief nod that was meant for only him, and he closed his eyes with the knowledge.
Deputy Meade spoke quietly, "There's a room upstairs where we can talk, ma'am." He led them to the elevator and then to a subtly decorated room on an upper floor. They all settled on sofas, and both men waited for Mac to speak.
"Would it be possible for us to see the police reports, deputy?"
Meade had been gearing up to quietly console the grieving or to help with travel arrangements, but he had not expected that question. "Ma'am?"
"I need to know exactly what happened to her, and I think that looking at the investigation reports will help."
Mac looked from the officer to Harm, who added, "Colonel MacKenzie and I are with the Judge Advocate General's Corps, so we both have quite a bit of investigative experience."
Meade only shook his head, "I'm sorry, but I think you've misunderstood. There's been no investigation."
Harm put a restraining hand on Mac's shoulder, and she just sat there with a disbelieving look. "What do you mean?"
"Ma'am, I'm not sure what you've been told, but there is no foul play suspected at all. Ms. O'Hara was found in her motel room by someone on the housekeeping staff. She'd checked in the evening before and was set to leave the next morning." He paused, unsure of whether to continue, but the determination on Mac's face told him he could. "The maid found her in bed, assumed she was asleep, but then she couldn't wake her to remind her of the checkout time. She called the management, and they contacted us. We identified her with her driver's license, and then it took a bit of looking, but we were able to find you. There were some personal items, including her car, and inside the room, we found a recent prescription for heart medication. We verified that she'd been using this medication, and spoke to her doctor, as well. The examination at the hospital supported what we suspected. She had a heart attack while she slept."
Nodding, Mac tried to take in all she'd heard. She intended to thank the deputy, but instead she asked, "Where exactly was she found?"
Understanding the grief that played out on the woman's face, Deputy Meade replied, "The Timberline Inn, out on Lee Highway, right off of exit 18."
This time, Mac did thank Deputy Meade, but Harm knew she was filing the information away and they would follow up on it later. Now, however, Mac was getting information from the deputy about a local funeral home that Mac could contact to make arrangements. Finally, the three of them shook hands and Harm ushered Mac out of the building and to his car. "You okay?"
Mac couldn't answer the question honestly, so she didn't answer at all. "This wasn't what I expected, Harm. And somehow, it wasn't what I was ready to accept."
Hating to ask the next question, Harm reluctantly began, "Would it have been easier if you'd come here and they'd told you how she'd been murdered?"
Fire flashed in Mac's eyes. "No, it would have been easier if she'd called me and told me where she was, or that she was sick, or . . ."
Mac trailed off and shook her head as she swept past Harm to get into the passenger side of the SUV. Harm could only shut the door behind her and get in the car himself. He looked over to find Mac already studying an open map. He didn't even have to ask where they were going; he simply pulled out of the parking lot.
~*~*~*~
Commercial: Try new
Lemon-Lime-Vanilla-Cherry-Cinnamin Flavored Coke!
It's a taste that you've just never tasted before.
~*~*~*~
1520 EST
Thursday, July 11th
Timerline Inn
Abingdon, Virginia
"Is there something I can help you with, Miss . . . ?"
Mac tried to return the smile that the older woman behind the counter offered her. "MacKenzie, my name is Sarah MacKenzie. I hoped that you'd be able to help me. I think you were working two days ago?"
"Why, yes, I was." The woman looked a little confused, so she continued, "Were you a guest? I'm sorry, but I just don't remember . . ."
"No, it wasn't me. It was my mother, she checked in on Tuesday, and I thought that maybe you would remember speaking to her."
The older woman's eyes softened as she made the connection. "I'm so sorry, dear."
Harm continued to stand in silence as he watched Mac accept the simple, heartfelt sympathy. Mac's eyes remained clear, however, as she continued, "So you do remember her."
The statement was quiet, and the woman nodded in reply. She then led Harm and Mac to a simple seating area in the corner of the lobby. "I do remember her. We only met the one time, but I remember thinking that she was a lovely woman."
Mac had no response for that. He eyes drifted downward and came to rest on the woman's name tag. "Grace, can you tell me anything about her?"
Hoping she had words that would comfort, Grace began, "She came in late, right at the end of my shift. Wanted the room for just the one night, and I asked if she was going to be in town for long. She said that she was just passing through, seemed to have already passed through a lot of places already. She joked that she'd lost count of all the states she'd been to in the past weeks. She had some funny stories, though. We ended up sharing some coffee, and it seemed like she told a million of them. I hope this doesn't hurt you at all, but I have to say that she was so full of life, she didn't seem sick at all."
Mac swallowed audibly. "She didn't say where she was headed, did she?"
"Well, she had been making her way across the country from somewhere out West, and she was heading on up to D.C. Said she had some family up there she hadn't seen in a long time."
At that, Mac looked down, and Grace replied softly, "That'd be you, wouldn't it?"
Nodding, Mac could only say, "We weren't that close."
Harm saw how Mac had tensed during the last few moments of the conversation. He wanted to hold her, but couldn't. Instead, he thanked Grace for her help and then stood just after Mac rose from the sofa. He then led her back out to the car, noting that she didn't argue when he opened the passenger door for her and then closed it after she got in. He spoke quietly, "It's not that late, but I think you could use some rest. I'm going to find somewhere to stay, and then we'll make arrangements tomorrow, okay?"
Mac didn't reply, but several moments later, she said, "It just doesn't make sense."
Harm had to keep his eyes on the road, but replied, "Mac, she was sick. There's nothing you could have done to fix that."
Mac continued in a monotone. "That's not it. This just doesn't make sense with the visions. The forest, the lake . . . it's all here, but it doesn't fit. It just doesn't."
Harm thought for a few moments. "Maybe it's not supposed to, Mac. Maybe they were just meant to lead you here, maybe it wasn't even your mother in those dreams. Or maybe they were just nightmares you're not going to be able to explain."
Mac pretended to be satisfied with Harm's answer. He could, however, read her silence.
"And maybe it doesn't help now, but remember that she was coming to you. She hadn't forgotten you."
Wiping a tear from her cheek, Mac looked to Harm. "Thank you. Thank you for everything. I don't know . . ."
Suddenly, Harm's pager began to beep. With one eye on the road, he checked the number. "It's the Admiral."
He began to dig for his cell phone. "Weak signal." Shaking his head, he dialed the number and was able to reach the Admiral after a few tries. Mac listened to his side of the conversation and made up her mind before he disconnected.
"The Admiral needs you, doesn't he?"
Harm spotted a Holiday Inn and pulled into the parking lot before he answered. "He apologized a million times, Mac. There's been a complication with the Claremont court-martial, and they need me back ASAP for a hearing tomorrow morning." He didn't want to continue, but he said, "I could leave now, or Tiner can get me a flight to Charlotte tonight, and then after a couple hours layover, I can fly to Dulles and make it to D.C. in time."
"That would be a little easier on you than trying to turn right around and drive home. Guess we'd better find the airport."
"Mac, I . . ."
"Harm, please don't feel badly. It'll be better this way."
He didn't want to leave her, and as the seconds ticked by, he felt that wall making itself stronger once again. "Are you sure? Maybe there's a way they can do this thing without me tomorrow."
"Harm, would the Admiral have called if he could have figured out any other way?"
Harm couldn't argue, so he continued to sit quietly in the still car. Mac turned to him and tried to smile, "So, I guess we should call back for flight information, if you trust me with your car, that is."
Attempting a smile in return, "It just means that I get your 'Vette until you come back, right?" His smile faded, "When are you coming back?"
Mac began slowly, "I figured I'd make the arrangements tomorrow morning."
"Do you have any idea where you'd like to have the memorial service?"
"You know, I'm not sure what she would have wanted. She didn't have much family to speak of . . ." Mac trailed off, and suddenly her eyes began to fill. "Uncle Matt. I need to call him."
Harm began to reach towards her, but she shook her head. "Let's get you on your way back to D.C. first. It might take me a while to get through to him anyway. Don't worry, I can handle it. Everything will be fine."
Harm wanted to argue, but Mac was already on the phone. "Tiner? It's Colonel MacKenzie . . ."
~*~*~*~
Commercial: "Are you tired of huge, long-distance
bill? If so, just dial 1-545-545454545 for the lowest
rates ever!"
~*~*~*~
0324 EST
Monday, July 14th
Harm's Apartment
North of Union Station
Annoyed that sleep had eluded him for yet another night, Harm stood and stared out the window watching the summer rain that pelted his window. He wanted to call Mac, but didn't. He blamed the late hour, but he really knew the truth. He was afraid that she wasn't ready, or maybe that he wasn't.
The last time they'd spoken was when she'd left him at the small airport. At the almost deserted ticket counter, she'd allowed herself to cling to him for just a few seconds as she'd asked him to call and let her know he'd gotten home all right. After that, he apologized one more time for leaving, and then he'd walked away, looking back in time to see her leave the airport alone.
Harm knew she'd gotten safely back to D.C. He'd found his car parked in his space the day before. It was clean, full of gas, and the keys were left in a safe place outside his apartment. She'd left a short note of thanks on the passenger's seat, and Harm had known with a look that it was signed in Mac's flowing script.
He hadn't heard from her since then, though he'd left several messages on her machine. He wondered how she was and where she was, and when . . . or if . . . she would come to him.
Afraid of the answer to those questions, Harm moved to the kitchen and put some water on to boil. At the same moment the kettle began to scream, he also heard a knock. Stopping only to turn off the stove, he moved to the door and found Mac standing on the other side. Her hair and clothes were soaked, and her face was almost composed as she stared up at him.
"Can I come in . . ."
Mac was unable to finish the question as she found herself crushed in Harm's embrace. She could barely make out his whispers, "You're here. I'm so glad you're okay."
Mac pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes. "I guess I messed that up, too. I didn't mean to scare you. I just couldn't deal with anyone. I'm so sorry."
"No apologies." Harm spoke quietly as he pulled Mac into the apartment. He led her to the stairs of his bedroom, and pointed her towards his dresser. "Clean sweats and T-shirt in there. You need to change."
"No, Harm, we need to talk first. I need to tell you . . ."
"Dry clothes first. I'll still be here."
Mac accepted his reassurances and headed up the short flight of stairs. By the time she came back down, Harm had two steaming mugs of tea in his hands. He led them to the sofa where Mac accepted one of the mugs, but then ignored it as she studied Harm's face.
"I don't know where to start, Harm. I just want to apologize first."
"You don't need to apologize, Mac. Just tell me where you've been."
Grateful for Harm's calm, Mac set the untouched tea aside and turned to Harm on the sofa. "After you left, I went back to the hotel and called Uncle Matt. We talked for a long time, and he told me some more things about mom that I didn't know. Apparently, she'd been in contact with him after dad's funeral. In the last few months, they'd talked a lot. She even went to see him on her way out here."
"So she was coming to see you?"
Mac nodded. "He believes she wanted to make amends. She found out that she was ill a few months ago, Harm, and then she started to make her way here. I just wish . . ."
Interrupting herself, Mac shook her head. "No, I'm not going to let myself do that. Anyway, I spoke to Uncle Matt, and he helped me figure out the arrangements. He told me what she wanted. I . . . before I left the little town on Saturday, I found a beautiful little spot by the lake and spread her ashes."
Harm couldn't help but think that she'd been alone. When he looked over at her, however, he saw a sense of peace on her face. "And you're okay?"
Mac turned to him and took his hands in both of hers. "I am now, or at least I will be. That's what I need to talk to you about."
Silence fell over the room until Mac took a deep breath. "I got back here late Saturday, and when I finally got home, I couldn't sleep. I just kept thinking about everything . . . and everyone in my life. I wasn't really happy with what I saw."
She felt Harm jerk a bit, so she tried to soothe his hands a bit. "Please, hear me out. I just kept thinking and remembering, and I finally fell asleep. Then the nightmares came back."
Confusion was now apparent on Harm's face, so Mac continued quickly. "It was the same, always the same. I still didn't recognize the place, and I always woke up so scared I couldn't breathe."
"Mac, I wish you'd come to me . . ."
Mac shushed him and then moved her hand to quickly cup his cheek. "I'm here now . . . but there's more." Harm nodded, and then Mac pulled away a bit to put the slightest bit of distance between them.
"I spent all day trying to figure out why the dream kept coming back and what it meant, and then all I wanted to do was to turn and run and never come back. Because no matter how bad the dreams got, I was never worried for me. I've always been scared that something would happen to Harriet or Bud or the Admiral . . . or you. So, I figured, if I ran away from everyone, I wouldn't have to be scared of losing anyone anymore."
Mac looked down now. "As of five hours ago, I was ready to resign my commission today and somehow start over." At Harm's gasp, she looked up at him with sympathy, but knew she had to continue. "I even had the letter finished last night. It took so long that I finally must've fallen asleep at my computer."
Harm's voice was a hoarse whisper as he said, "So, that's why you're here? To tell me you're leaving?"
Smiling gently, she replied, "No, that's not it. Not it at all. I'm here because I finally figured it out. I think I've finally figured a lot of things out."
In a familiar gesture, Mac got up and began to pace as she spoke. "The thing that hurt the most with both my parents is that they were truly alone at the end. Maybe they wanted to be, maybe they deserved to be, I don't know, but it doesn't matter because the simple fact is that they were alone. And maybe that's what I always thought I should be, too. That's why I run, why I shut people off when I'm afraid they're getting too close, or that I'm getting too close."
She trailed off, but started again. "That's what happens in the dream. It was finally clear last night. I'm the woman running, Harm, running away from everything and everyone I know. I can't make myself stop, and it's only when I'm on the edge of the water that I do. I can't go any further, and there's nothing around me. I figure I'm safe, so I let myself look around."
Harm's voice broke Mac's silence. "What do you see?"
"Nothing."
At that single word, Harm looks confused. "That's what you said before. I thought you said you finally understood, Mac."
"I do. I look around, Harm, and I can't see anything. There's nothing for miles, even the trees and the water are gone. It's just me."
"So you're safe?"
Mac let the quiet, kind voice flow over her. She walked towards Harm, sitting near him on the sofa. Turning towards him, she replied, "Safe . . . and alone. That's why I scream. It's not fear or anger. It's hopelessness, Harm, because I'm all alone. I got what I wanted. No, that's not right. I got what I thought I needed. I am totally and completely alone, and as I scream against it, I realize it's the one thing I don't want, I don't need. I'm not going to let myself live that way. Not anymore."
She stopped, as though the words had somehow drained her energy. Looking at Harm, she finished, "That's why I'm here. To tell you that I'm not running anymore." She paused again, "Maybe that's why I had the dream now. Maybe my mother did have something to do with it. She was running back to me, but didn't get the chance. But that's not me. I'm going to be right here when and if we decide to move forward or stay where we are. I'm not going to run from you, or from us, anymore."
Relief trickled through Harm as Mac's words registered. He reached up and pushed a damp lock of hair from her face, and then allowed his hand to linger for a moment. "I'm not running, either, Sarah."
He pulled her closer, and they sat with their foreheads touching. No more words were needed.
Cue hopeful JAG music
Freeze frame on our fearless duo
Roll closing credits