Title: LOST
Author: Lisa Parker (mzgriffon@aol.com)
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Previous VS episodes and Season 7
Summary: Mac finally gets a real vacation, or does she?
Authors Notes: This story would not have been possible without support from the following contributors: Michelle, who always keeps me on the straight and narrow (Happy Birthday); Miss P., who wanted a story she could read; Kim and Laura, who never thought this was a dumb idea; 'Uncle' Marty for letting me borrow the beach house; and finally to Jen, Bree and Abby, for making all the VS writers look so good this year.
Disclaimers: Ain't mine, just playing. I'll give'em back when I'm done. But I retain the right to recall the witnesses if TPTB do something as stupid as Season 5 again.

0535 EST
July 23, 1939
War Department
Washington DC

My Darling,

Journeys end in lovers meeting. It is my sincere wish that you would put yourself on the next boat sailing from Dover and come home. I know you feel you are needed there and that your work is important, but I need you here as well, maybe more. Today's headlines have just reaffirmed all my fears and you do have choices. I do not. I would go in your place were it possible. Please, please, my love, before things get worse and you are lost to me forever. Tell Walter to go to hell and come home.

I apologize if I am irrational about this. I know you do not do this out of selfishness or uncaring, but out of honor and duty. I have always respected your decisions. I just would not be able to live with them, if I did not at least make my plea.

Forever Yours,

William
Washington

He folded the letter and placed it in an envelope. William got up from his desk and crossed the room to the sergeant by the door. At the desk, he placed the letter in a courier pouch sitting on the corner of the desk.

****
MAIN TITLE AND COMMERICALS
****
0930 EST July 22, 2002
Courtyard-JAG Ops
Falls Church, VA

"Here, Harm. Here's every last receipt I dug out of the car," Mac said, tossing a file and envelope lightly in front of him. There was a ping as a shell casing rolled out of the up turned envelope and onto to the concrete veranda.

His head snapped up in surprise. "Leaving already?"

"You bet." Mac turned and looked out across the courtyard and he watched the summer breeze ruffle her hair over the small bandage on her temple. "And, Harm, next time you even think about a road trip, get a rock star RV or leave me at home."

She chuckled, but Harm nodded soberly in agreement.

"Think he'll be OK?" Mac asked as she spotted Sturgis pulling into the parking lot.

"Yeah, eventually," Harm sighed.

They let the silence hang between them. Finally, Mac roused herself and grabbed her cover and briefcase from where she laid them against the half wall.

"Well, I'm off. Home. Airport. Beach."

"Hey, have fun. Watch out for Jellyfish and use sunscreen."

"Ha, ha. It's supposed to be a week of fun and sun. You stay out of trouble while I'm gone." With a wink, she started across the parking lot to begin her first real vacation in years.

"Hey, Marine. Forget something?" Harm called after her.

She turned back, her free hand planted on her hip and one brow arched with a question. "Forget something?" she echoed huskily. "Why, no, I think I got everything."

He walked toward her slowly, his eyes narrowed, his usual flyboy grin predatory this time. "Want me to jog your memory?" he growled, the words soft and low.

His quick change in demeanor caught her by surprise, as did the heat of him standing so close. The tip of her tongue snaked out to wet her lips and his watchful gaze followed the tiny movement closely.

Then she grinned, a lightning quick move that had him reassessing the situation as she placed her hand flat in the middle of his chest.

If they were anywhere but the courtyard outside JAG Ops, this little game they played would escalate dangerously.

"Directions? The Midsummer's Night Beach party you and Chloe dreamed up."

"Oh, right. Harriet has everything you need." And with a sparkling laugh, she waved as she continued to her car, leaving him to wonder what tornado had just swept through the courtyard.

To himself he muttered, "I doubt that." Harm waved and watched her are pull out of the parking lot before he turned back to gather the papers she left him. Then giving himself a mental shake, he made his way back into the office.

***
Two days later
1215 EST
Rehoboth Beach, DE

After setting out the kind of lunch Harriet would be proud of, Mac opened the doors to the back deck to call Chloe in from the beach. She took a moment to savor the sea breeze. This house was a dream. It was a large, open plan with wood floors and a fireplace. The furniture was beach and sand friendly and both the great room and the master suite opened onto the deck.

"Chloe, if you want to meet Caroline and Jason this afternoon, you better get your six in here for some food!" she shouted over the gang of teenagers scattered on the sand.

This had been a great plan six weeks ago. Chloe would bring Jingo home...finally, and they could spend some time together catching up. In Mac's mind, she owed Chloe some undivided attention after the fiasco of her last visit, but it was not turning out quite as she had hoped.

It started out well enough. They walked the beach the night they arrived and stayed up well into the night sharing exploits of school dances and the changes the last year had brought. Jingo was content to wander the beach house and sit at Mac's feet, and since it was on stilts, he limited his exploits outdoors to calls of nature. But Chloe found some new friends here and was spending most of her time hanging out with them, leaving Mac to catch up on her reading and generally languish on the beach.

Chloe came romping in through the French doors, sandy and damp from her excursion with her new friends. "You cooked?" she asked, plopping herself on a stool by the breakfast bar.

"Yes, I cooked. I can, you know," Mac answered. To emphasize her point, she placed a plate of quiche and fruit salad in front of Chloe and poured some lemonade. "There's just never the time or point when it's just me."

Chloe eyed her plate suspiciously and took a tentative bite. Mac watched tensely.

"It's good! Wow!" Chloe smiled. "I had no idea." Mac gave her a playful nudge in the shoulder and they relaxed. Between bites, Chloe asked, "So, what are we doing tonight?"

"There's an Air Force band playing tonight at the band shell on the beach, I thought we'd give that a try," Mac suggested. "And before you groan, they're billing it as an evening of golden oldies and classic contemporary hits. I know it's not N'Sync but it could still be fun."

"Sounds cool, but if it gets 'blue-hair' boring, can we leave early?"

"Hey..." Mac scolded and instantly capitulated. "Sure, I wouldn't want you to bored with me."

****
1507 EST
JAG OPS
Falls Church, VA

"Commanders, I found that box of transcripts you needed for the Hale appeal," Harriet said as she knocked on Sturgis' opened door.

"Oh, great, Harriet," Harm smiled as he turned to face her from his chair in front of Sturgis' desk. "Well, give them here. We need those."

"Can't, sir. They're in the downtown archive." Harriet cringed for the next part of her news. "And you're going to have to go get them because they're down to one civilian clerk and no couriers."

Harm slapped his files shut and stood at the door. He stretched out the kinks in his back and leg. Sturgis, who had been noticeably silent during the interchange, stood as well and grabbed his cover from the rack in the corner.

"Come on, Sturgis. Looks like we are going on a field trip today," Harm said over his shoulder as he exited the office to retrieve his own cover. "Thanks, Harriet. Let the Admiral know where we are, will ya?"

"Wait! Sir!" Harriet turned to rush after them. She got as far as the closing elevator doors, before she was able to spit out her concern. "They've moved," she sputtered and sagged against the wall.

****
2023 EST
Beach House
Rehoboth Beach, DE

"Brrrrr," Chloe sounded as she shook herself like a wet dog.

Mac threw her a towel from the closet and went into the kitchen to make hot tea. The concert turned out to be rather fun. Even if it was way past the 4th of July and Memorial Day, the band was able to get the crowd on their feet with stirring renditions of patriotic songs. Unfortunately, about half way through the second act, the heavens opened up and Mac and Chloe ran on the beach all the way back to the house in the rain.

"Oh, God. I haven't been soaked to the skin in ages," Mac exclaimed as she toweled off her hair. She stopped suddenly and remembered last spring and the night Mic left and Harm comforted Renee. She remembered the rain pouring down around her mingling with her tears. She shivered as if to shake off the sadness of that night and returned to the present. She wasn't lost anymore. She and Harm were finding their way.

"Yeah, it's kinda neat," Chloe giggled. "Back when I still lived in DC, Mom used to let me play in the rain when it got hot enough. She'd sit on the stoop and take off all my clothes and let me run in and out of the rain. Sometimes, if she was feeling well enough, she would join me and we'd do ring around the rosy." Seeing Mac's sad smile, she asked. "What?"

"You hardly ever talk about her, but when you do it's always a happy memory."

"That's a good thing." Chloe said. "She was as good to me as she could be."

"You constantly amaze me, Chloe," Mac said as she stroked the young girl's hair and they shared a smile.

****
COMMERICAL BREAK
****
0630 EST
Beach House
Rehoboth Beach, DE

Jingo forlornly looked out the French doors. The old boy wasn't sure he wanted to go out, but he turned his back on the rain and went to find Mac. As he walked across the room, Chloe gave him a brief pat and continued her morning e-mail check on Mac's laptop set up on the coffee table.

He found her in the master suite. With a soft woof and a lick on her nose, he roused his mistress for a morning walk and breakfast.

"OK, Jingo, let's get your leash," Mac groaned as she slowly awoke. She sleepily made her way into the great room pulling a sweatshirt over her pajamas. "Oh, no. Chloe?!"

"What? What is it?" Chloe asked as she looked up from the computer.

"It's still raining," Mac bemoaned.

Chloe almost said something typically adolescent like 'duh,' but held herself in check. She chose instead, "It's not so bad...it might stop."

"I think there is a raincoat around here." Mac turned and headed for the hall closet in search of the slicker. "I'll take Jingo out for his walk."

"Don't worry about it. I'll take him out."

"Thanks, Kiddo. Don't be too long. Pancakes when you get back?"

"You're really into this cooking thing, aren't you?"

"Go. The faster you go the faster you'll be back," Mac laughed as they tromped out the door and onto the beach.

****
0901 EST
JAG OPS
Falls Church, VA

"Harriet, why didn't you tell us they moved the storage archive? It took us all afternoon to find the new location and then the box," Harm said impatiently as he made his way past Harriet's desk.

"Well, sir, I tried, but you left so quickly. The Colonel and I had a tour a couple of weeks ago, when we delivered our last batch of files," she tried to explain as she followed closely behind him.

"Next time, cell phone, please," he said as he entered his office and practically slammed the door in her face.

"He's not having a good vacation, is he, Lieutenant?" Sturgis said wryly as he came out of the break room.

"Sir, he's not on vacation. The Colonel is." Harriet spun to look at Sturgis.

"That's exactly my point, Lieutenant."

***
0923 EST
Beach House
Rehoboth Beach, DE

"Chloe, what do you say to a little shopping today?" Mac asked as she finished putting away the breakfast dishes.

"You want to drive all the way out to the outlets?" Chloe was back at the computer, with two IM windows open and chimes ringing in quick succession.

"Nah, let's stay close to home. I was thinking of the antique shops off the boardwalk. Then we can get burgers and fries at Thatcher's."

"Cool, let me find me shoes and we can go." The teenager logged off and ran down the hall to her room.

"'Kay, I'll check my e-mail." Mac slid into the vacated chair and logged on. She smiled when she checked her private messages. Harm sent several between last night and this morning. He was bemoaning his lot in life this week and demanded, in his way, why she hadn't informed him of the change in archive relocation. She was the chief of staff. It was her job. "Yours, Harm," she thought. Mac hit the reply key and wrote:

Harm,
I think you can survive a week without me there to hold your hand. If not, I'm sure Harriet is willing to step in. ; ) I am after all on VACATION. I know it's been a while since you had one of those, but think back. It means NO work. You can try me again anytime after 0700 Monday morning. So on to more important things. The weather is not cooperating, but other than that Chloe and I are having a great time. Can't wait for everyone to come up for the party. Have fun with the Hale appeal...

She hesitated on how to sign off the e-mail. Quickly she wrote: Yours, too, Mac. Before she could change her mind she hit the send button.

Chloe came back into the room just as the chime sounded.

"Mac."

No answer.

"Mac," Chloe tried again, this time walking behind Mac and peering over her shoulder.

Mac quickly X'd out of her e-mail and spun to face Chloe.

"Didn't you hear me? Why are you all red?"

Mac touched her cheeks and found them warm. "It's nothing. Come on, let's go."

***

The only concession Mac and Chloe made to the rain that day was to take the car the mile or so up the road into town. As they wandered in and out of the collection of tacky t-shirt vendors and dusty antique shops, they found souvenirs and trinkets to help them remember their beach week.

Bells tinkled at the door of the next shop they entered. They were greeted with the mingled scents of moldy books, musty wood and patchouli incense faintly wafting through the air with the dust motes.

"Welcome to Treasures Found." The brogue of a robust elderly woman eyeing her two newest customers with interest broke the silence in the shop. "I hope your treasure finds you today."

"We're just looking, thank you." Mac eyed the redhead in black Capri pants and t-shirt warily. "We decided to check out the shops because it was raining today."

"Take you time browsing. I'm Melissa Banks and the owner of this here lil' shop, but you can call me Miss Melly. Everyone does." She sat down on a stool behind the cash register and lit a stick of incense. "Alright, now that you know my name, what shall I call you two, Wet and Wetter?"

"I'm Chloe and this is Mac, Miss Melly." Chloe stuck her hand out in greeting and giggled as she heard herself. "Miss Melly."

"Say it five times fast, girl and I'll be your friend for life." Miss Melly smiled.

Chloe hesitantly began, "Um...Miss Melly, Miss Melly Miss Melly, Miss Smelly..."

Immediately she covered her mouth in embarrassment, but when Miss Melly threw back her head and roared with laughter, Chloe joined in.

"Chloe?!" Mac admonished. "That's rude."

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a knot, love. It's the oldest joke in my life and my da started it when I was born. It warms my heart and I am never offended." Miss Melly waved her off. "Look 'round. What's looking for you can be found here. I'll be in the back."

"But we're not really looking for anything," Mac called after her.

"I know. It's looking for you, love," Miss Melly answered with a wink.

***

"Mac!!!! Come quick, I found it," Chloe whooped with joy.

"What? What have you got?"

"Look at these. This one has an M on it and this one a C." Chloe shoved two matching wooden boxes into Mac's hands. "They're ours. See."

Mac's eyes widened as she looked at the two boxes. They were identical in everyway, except for the brass letters tacked to the top. Each was carved of what Mac assumed was teakwood. The wood was oiled and polished so smoothly, it was almost soft to the touch. And each was about the size of a sheet of copier paper and about four inches high. Mac set them on the counter to open them. She lifted the lid of one of the boxes and found a lavender blue velvet lining. In the top, sewn to the velvet, was a small satin label embroidered with black thread. It read: Javier's Buenos Aires Est. 1895. She closed the lid and turned the box over. Scratched in the bottom was J III 1942.

"Mrs. Banks!" Mac called out. "Can you help us with these?"

"What found you, dear?" She answered as she made her way to the front of the shop.

"These boxes. Where are they from?" Mac asked.

"Oh, my. I would never have guessed they were yours." Miss Melly said as she picked up one of the boxes and turned it over in her hands.

"What do you mean they found us? You keep saying that like the boxes have a mind of their own. They are just boxes. That's all...just boxes." Chloe and Mrs. Banks just stared at her, as Mac tried to convince herself. They both understood the magic of the shop. This irked her even more. "Why are you looking at me like that? They ARE just boxes."

"But, Mac, those are our initials," Chloe whispered. "Let's get them. They are beautiful."

Mac's ire deflated immediately. Chloe was using those puppy dog eyes that first grabbed her heart years ago. Mac couldn't say no then and she couldn't say it now. She turned to Mrs. Banks. "How much?"

"Thirty dollars?" Miss Melly asked. "I think that's fair."

"More than fair. Are you sure? They are very old," Mac bargained back, unsure as to why she was asking to pay more.

"We'll take them," Chloe said quickly pulling the boxes out of the other women's hand and laying them on the counter. She reached in to her shorts pocket and began counting out the cash needed to pay for them.

"Chloe let me..." Mac began and reached for her purse.

"No, this is my gift to you. You supplied the week at the beach. I supply the souvenirs," Chloe argued back with a smile.

Mac smiled back with more pride than she imagined her heart could hold. The little girl who embarrassed her to death one Christmas years ago was growing up fast. She ducked her head to hide the tears welling up. "Pull it together, Marine," she chided herself silently.

"Thank you, Miss Smelly," Chloe giggled, leading Mac out of the shop, bells tinkling behind them.

***
1730 EST
JAG OPS
Falls Church, VA

"Have you found it yet, Harriet?" Harm asked to the seemingly empty office.

"No, sir," she answered from the floor.

"Keep looking. It's got to be there." Harm got up from his desk and went over to the window. "It's raining again."

"I know, sir. AJ will be cranky from being kept indoors all day and I'll have to take him to Beltway Burgers Playhouse to let him work off all that pent up energy. I'm not looking forward to this evening. Grrrr!"

"Easy, Harriet. He can't be that bad." Harm looked down at her.

"Oh! It's not AJ, sir. It's this file. It's a mess and I can't use the conference room to spread it out on because it's being painted today. I can't work on the floor again tomorrow," she said as she massaged her aching lower back.

"Why don't you let me clean it up for tonight and I'll put it in Mac's office. Tomorrow, if the painters aren't done, you can work there." He reached out a hand to help her off the floor. "Dismissed, Lieutenant. Good night."

With a grateful smile, Harriet said, "Thank you, sir. Have a good night."

****
2046 EST
The Beach House
Rehoboth Beach, DE

The rain rarely let up for more than a few hours that day. Mac and Chloe returned to the house and divided their spoils from the day. The boxes were not the only things they found. Chloe came home with new flip-flops and a beach towel, while Mac purchased a silly T-shirt for Little AJ and a first edition lithograph of Elgin's Marbles.

"Mac, what is the big deal with these marbles, anyway?" Chloe eyed the framed picture with curiosity.

"These aren't just marbles. They are Elgin's Marbles. In the early 1800's, Lord Elgin returned from Greece and sold them to the British Museum. It's a fresco from the Pantheon. Of course, he wasn't actually an archeologist, more of a plunderer really."

"Hm, they are beautiful. Are they still there?" Chloe appraised the frame and lifted it to the light. She sat down on the couch to rest it carefully on her knees.

"Yeah," Mac said over Chloe's shoulder. "I think so. Why?"

"I was thinking next year we can go to England for our vacation and see the real ones," she giggled and started to hand the picture back to Mac.

"Oh, you," Mac exclaimed and bopped Chloe lightly with a pillow.

Chloe, not one to back down from a challenge, quickly set the picture on the coffee table and returned fire with another pillow. A mock battle ensued with Jingo joining the fray. Neither noticed the frame teeter atop the boxes and fall to the floor.

The crash stopped the two immediately. They looked down to survey the damage. Mac looked at Chloe and Chloe looked at Jingo and then back to the floor where the lithograph lay.

As Mac picked up the lithograph to examine the glass, Chloe asked anxiously, "Is it broken?"

"No," Mac said slowly. "It seems to be ok." She looked back to Chloe with a rueful smile. "I guess the fun is over for tonight. Let's take Jingo for another walk and then go to bed."

Mac stood to get the leash hanging by the door, when Chloe's exclamation stopped her.

"Oh, no. Mac, your box broke," she called out. Chloe turned the box to show Mac the loosened joint at the back.

"Let me see that," Mac said as she traded the leash for the box. "You go with Jingo. I'll see what I can do to fix this."

"I'm so sorry," she said as she hooked the leash to Jingo's collar.

"No, Chloe. It's okay. We can fix it. Go with Jingo, but don't go far. One block in either direction."

"'Kay, back in a jiff."

Mac took the box to the breakfast bar and went into the kitchen for a butter knife and some glue. She returned to the box and opened it up. The lining had pulled away when the joint split and she lightly pulled it some more. It came away easily, not only from the sides of the box but the bottom as well. Mac frowned in consternation. It seems Miss Melly was fishier than her name implied. The box was falling apart in her hands. It must be a cheap knock-off.

Just as she was working herself into a lather, something caught her eye. Hidden beneath the lining, there was a piece of paper---several pieces of paper, in fact. She pulled them out one at a time. Three sheets of notepaper were now lying on the counter. Each folded in thirds. Mac could see the old ink leeching through to the back of the paper so it almost looked as though you could read the right side from the back.

Mac went into her room and was rummaging through her make up bag, looking for a pair of tweezers when she heard Chloe return with Jingo.

"Don't touch that," she warned as Chloe approached the paper with her damp hands. "Go clean up and dry your hands first. Then, come back here and I'll show you what I found."

Chloe raced into the bathroom to do as she was told. Mac prepared herself the same way in the kitchen.

"I really wish I had a pair of gloves of some kind," she muttered as she leaned over the letters and the box.

Chloe was very confused by Mac's actions, but knew her well enough to keep quiet. She watched as Mac slowly and carefully opened the letters to lie flat.

"Grab some zip lock bags from the drawer, would you, Chlo?"

The young girl retrieved the bags and placed them next to Mac, who opened one up and carefully slid the letter in. She repeated the task with each of the remaining letters and then sat down. Mac blew her bangs out of her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Ok, CSI-wannabe, you want to explain to me what's going on," Chloe said.

Mac laughed at her reference. "Well, after you left, I started to put the box back together, but the lining gave away too easily. I thought Miss Melly really was smelly to sell junk as antiques, but the letters are all dated before 1940 and the glue is too yellow and brittle to have been faked."

"So, why the bags?"

"Because, silly, if we want to read them, we have to handle them...and that would be bad."

"Why?"

"Have you learned nothing looking over my shoulder at dinosaur bones? The oil and dirt on our hands could destroy the letters and then we wouldn't have any evidence and without the evidence we wouldn't have a mystery."

Chloe caught on at this point. "Ahhh," she said, "so what next, Sherlock?"

"We read the letters, my dear Watson."

***
0245 EST
The Beach House
Rehoboth Beach, DE

Mac sat up in bed. It wasn't raining anymore, but there was a heavy mist hanging outside her window. Without the distinctive sound of the rain on the roof, the silence was almost disconcerting. She had been sleeping peacefully since coming to the beach. Now, she was edgy again. Wandering out to the great room, she picked up the letters and read them again.

*My Dearest Catherine,

Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt. Now, more than ever I wish I could have brought you home with me. When you depart from me sorrow abides, and happiness takes his leave. This is all so pointless! I don't understand why they would go through all the effort of putting you over there if they're just going to ignore your reports. I'm going to make them listen. I'll find a way - I promise you that. They must realize how valuable you are.

All my love,
William
Washington March 9, 1939*

What intrigued her about the letters was not just the mystery hinted at on the pages, but the emotions they conveyed. From his words, Mac pictured William as a true romantic with a poet's soul. She and Chloe had identified lines from Shakespeare in every letter. Mac tried to picture Catherine, but found herself asking instead what kind of a woman must she be to inspire such devotion?

As she contemplated her own question, she noticed something on the paper that she hadn't seen before. She held the letter up to the overhead light and saw that the mark was actually a watermark that looked like a crest. She could just make out SWD, but the rest was unclear.

"Could they be initials?" she wondered. "Maybe the W was William." Before jumping to any conclusions, she checked another letter to see if it was anymore legible. She was rewarded. In the right-hand corner barely visible to the naked eye was USWD. The War Department? She thought to herself. Suddenly the cryptic messages in the letters started to reveal themselves.

*Catherine,

These words are razors...How can you be so calm about this? You're risking your life over there to gather what they want and then they ignore it! I can't help but want to defend you. I love you, for God's sake, and I want you here where it's safe. It doesn't make it easier for me to accept your willingness to persevere; when I see how little they heed your words. Why take such chances when the results fall on deaf ears?

I understand what drives you to stay with this. But that does not mean I have to like it.

William
Washington May 15th, 1939*

William's frustration was palpable in his words, but what Catherine was doing was cloaked in doublespeak. Maybe another visit to Miss Melly would help them solve their mystery.

****
COMMERICAL BREAK
****
1256 EST
Treasures Found
Rehoboth Beach, DE

"Mrs. Banks?" Mac called out to the empty shop.

"Do you really think Miss Melly will have any clues for us? I mean, yesterday, you thought she was nuts?" Chloe whispered.

Mac shushed her and called out again.

"Right here. I'm in the back." Echoed the voice from the storeroom.

Miss Melly came out from behind the curtain in the back room. Wiping her hands on a cloth, she took up her place behind the counter. "Well, if it isn't Wet and Wetter. What brings you two back here? Is something looking for you again?"

"These." Mac smiled as she places the boxes on the counter, one in slightly worse shape than it should have been. She was beginning to understand the strange way Miss Melly viewed her wares.

"What happened?" Miss Melly asked as she turned the box over on the counter to examine it. As she did, the brass M on the box spun on its tack. "Maybe these weren't meant for you after all." She held the box up to show Mac and Chloe that the M was now a W.

"We had an accident and we found these," Mac said pulling the letters out of her purse.

"We were wondering if you could tell us where you got the boxes. We'd like to get more information about the person who wrote these letters," Chloe added.

"Well, let's check my records," Miss Melly waved them to follow her to the backroom.

If Mac and Chloe thought the display area of the store was barely controlled chaos, it was nothing compared to the disarray of boxes, bags and filing cabinets in the back.

"Let's see. Teak boxes circa 1940," she hummed to herself as she surveyed the room. "Ah, I know boxes about boxes. Let's try here." She seemed to point haphazardly to a brown hatbox on a steamer trunk. She opened the box on the paper covered desk and leafed through the contents. "Here it is. January this year, I went to estate sale in Maryland near Ocean City. I bought the boxes and a crate of books."

"Books? What kind of books?" Mac asked.

"Well, you know dear, t'was the oddest thing." Miss Melly moved quickly past the curtain and went to a row of books on the side. She searched the shelves thoughtfully and pulled a small hardcover book from the shelf. "This one puzzled me. It says Sonnets by The Bard on the cover, but when you look inside, it's just gibberish. Not a word to be understood. Only thing I could find to identify it was this."

She opened up to the last page of the book and written in very small letters was: 2 C, W.

Mac took the book and began to examine it closely.

"What is it?" Chloe asked as she leaned over to view the pages, too.

"Well, if I'm not mistaken. I think it's an old code key. One that we haven't used since before World War II."

"Eureka, we have a clue," Chloe jumped for joy.

"Where was that estate sale again, Mrs. Banks?" Mac asked as she reached for her wallet to buy the book.

***
1613 EST
Fenwick Island, MD

Mac and Chloe pulled into the driveway of the old Victorian Miss Melly had directed them to. The house looked tired and neglected. They got out of the car and went up to the door.

"You think anyone is home?" Chloe asked apprehensively.

"Doesn't look likely, but let's check it out."

Before they could peer in the window, a small voice called from the side of the house. "There's no one home. They left."

Mac and Chloe turned to see a girl around seven years old, bouncing a basketball on the stairs followed by a black greyhound.

"Mom says Mr. Anderson got tired and had to go rest, but that was at Christmastime and he ain't been back."

"Can we talk to your mom? We'd like to speak with Mr. Anderson ourselves." Mac enquired as she bent to eye level with the child.

The girl turned and shouted over her shoulder, "MOM! These ladies want to talk to you."

Mac and Chloe winced as the girl's words echoed around the porch.

"Come on, Mom's with Jakey in the backyard. I'm Paige. Please don't tell her you found me over here. I'm not really allowed."

Paige led the way down the Anderson driveway and through a break in the hedges.

"Paige, I told you not to go over there. The workmen have tools lying all around. You could get hurt," scolded the woman playing with a toddler in a wadding pool. She looked up to add impact to her message and realized her daughter was not alone. "Oh, I'm really sorry. Are you the family moving in next door?"

"No, we're sorry to disturb you. I'm Sarah MacKenzie and this is my sister, Chloe. We were actually trying to get more information about the Andersons. We found some things we think belong to them and we'd like to return them."

"Oh, Mrs. Anderson died about two years ago. Bill went to a nursing home around Christmastime. I'm not sure where. I think a niece or someone made the arrangements, but I'm really not sure. We were away for the holidays and when we came back, there was no one home."

"Did you know them well, Mrs....?"

"Oh, just call me Audrey. I wish I could say I did, but I have been just too busy with the kids. They were a couple of characters. I do know that Mrs. Anderson had Alzheimer's, but Bill wouldn't put her in a home. He said it would kill her. I'm sorry I can't be of more help to you."

"Well, thank you for your time."

"Cute kid," Chloe commented about the baby and Audrey smiled as they walked away.

Paige met them by their car. "Don't listen to Mom. I liked Bill. He was a pirate. He told me stories about the Nastys and how Mrs. Anderson tried to save the world."

"A Pirate? The Nastys?" Mac asked slightly confused.

"Yeah, Bill had a patch on his eye. He said he got it when he was a soldier. Bill said the Nastys' name was Hitler. And that Catherine, that's Mrs. Anderson, was a spy, but I didn't believe him. Mom told me not to, that sometimes old people remember things wrong."

***
1935 EST
JAG Ops
Falls Church, VA

Tiner picked up the phone of the second ring. "Admiral Chegwidden's office."

"Tiner, it's Colonel Mackenzie.

"Oh, hi, Colonel. How's your vacation?"

"Wonderful. Do you know where Commander Rabb is?"

"Yes, Colonel. He and Commander Turner are with Lieutenant Sims in the conference room. They said they didn't want to be disturbed, but I can try to get him for you."

"The Hale appeal?"

"I'm afraid so, ma'am. They have seven boxes of transcripts and evidence to go through."

"Seven?! So who's available?"

"Would you like Lieutenant Singer or the Admiral?" His answer was dead silence on the other end of the phone and he smiled. "I'll get the Admiral for you right away, ma'am."

"Thank you, Tiner."

"What can I do for you, Colonel?" AJ asked. He was surprised to hear from Mac while she was on vacation.

"Sir, if I wanted to check the duty roosters from DOD back when it was still called the War Department where would I go?"

"Depends, Colonel. What branch of service?"

"Well, sir...actually, I think it might be OSS."

"Colonel, I thought you were on leave. You're not mixed up with Webb, are you?"

"No, sir," she replied laughingly. She went on to explain the letters and what she and Chloe had discovered at the Anderson house.

"Sounds like One-eyed Willie," he said when she finished filling him in.

"You know him, sir?"

"If it's who I think it is, then no, not really. But the person you describe reminds me of a visiting instructor I had while I was at the Academy. A lecture on cryptography and intelligence gathering, but he was quite a character. Kept quoting Shakespeare in his lecture, I guess you could say he made an impression."

"Well, Sir, it's not really important, but Chloe and I were just curious as to what happened to him and his wife. Maybe there is a relative who might like these boxes back. I know I would treasure a piece of my family's history like this."

"Give me the information and I'll check it out."

"You, sir?" She debated with herself. Harm would be finished with his meeting in a few hours. This wasn't urgent. But those snippets of Shakespeare...If anyone could help her solve her mystery, it was Jag's very own Bard expert...

"I have been known to handle an investigation once in a while."

"Well, yes, sir. Of course, sir."

"Go back to the beach, Colonel. You are still on leave." AJ hung up and stood from his desk and perused the bookcase near the window. Locating the volume he wanted, he sat down by the fireplace and opened the book. He leafed through it and came upon a paper stuck between two pages. He opened it up and smiled.

"This might be easier than you think, Colonel," he said to the empty office. Then he bellowed, "Tiner!"

****
COMMERICAL BREAK
****
0935 EST
JAG Ops
Falls Church, VA.

AJ walked across the bullpen and called out the 'as you were', before Harriet could even get out the 'Attention on deck.'

"Good morning, sir," Tiner greeted him with a fist full of messages and files. "I tried the Brown University Database last night, but I came up empty handed, but a Goggle search came up with a citation of a book called 'Decoding Shakespeare' by a William Anderson. Could that be who you are looking for?"

AJ cocked his head. "It might. Did it say anything else about the author?"

"Just that he was a retired Major in the Army and held a chair at Skyler University."

AJ smiled widely. "Good work, Tiner. Get Professor Cavanaugh on the phone for me."

****
1310 EST
Dolly Madison Inn
Arlington, VA

"Thanks for meeting me for lunch, Professor," said AJ he held her chair at the table.

"My pleasure. Your message said something about decoding Shakespeare. I was curious," Meredith placed her briefcase and purse on the adjacent chair.

"Well," he said as he reached into his inside coat pocket. "Do you know this man?" He placed the yellowed flyer on the table in front of her.

"My God, that's Bill Anderson. About thirty years before I met him, but yeah, I know him. Before he retired and he and Catherine moved out to the beach, we did some fundraising work for the Folgers Theatre."

"Do you know where I might find him?"

"I don't think it would be that hard to track him down. I received a notice that Catherine had died a few years back. I'm sure the Theatre still keeps him on the mailing list even though he hasn't been active in years. Why?"

"Colonel MacKenzie seems to have come across some letters she thinks he may want back."

"Well, let me call the fundraising chair and see what I can find out?"

AJ pulled out his cell phone and handed it to her.

***
1930 EST
The Beach House
Rehoboth Beach, DE

Chloe was just hanging up the phone when Mac came in from the deck. "Who was on the phone?" she asked.

"It was the Admiral. He said he might be late tomorrow and asked if it was OK if he brought a guest. I told him it was alright, I hope you don't mind."

"No, that's ok. The more the merrier. Did he mention anything about the Andersons?"

"Just said he had additional information and that he'll bring it with him."

Mac nodded her head and went into the kitchen to start the preparations for the party.

***
1530 EST
The Beach House
Rehoboth Beach, DE

"Knock, knock. The gangs all here," Harm called out as he barged through the front door, followed by Harriet, Sturgis and Singer.

"Hey, we are out here," Mac answered from the deck.

She greeted everyone with a smile and accepted hugs from everyone, even a rather awkward one from Singer. Mac took a moment to introduce Chloe to Sturgis.

"Boy, you guys look beat," Mac said as she turned to Harm and Sturgis. "Do I have to ask how the Hale case is going?"

Harm cocked an eyebrow. "Please, don't."

"That good, huh?"

"Where would you like these, ma'am?" Harriet thrust two grocery bags of soft drinks in her direction.

"Let me put them in the refrigerator. Thanks, Harriet." Mac took the bags from her and made her way to the kitchen.

"Why are we all still inside the sun is shining, the water is beautiful, and...," Chloe winked at Harm, "I'm sure Harm and Mac could use some alone time." With that she grabbed Harriet's hand and pulled her out on the deck with a smiling Sturgis.

Harriet saying warningly, "Chloe..."

Harm smiled as his unknowing ally gave him an opening and muttered in their general direction, "I'll just check and see if Mac needs any help..."

After everyone was outside, he turned back to the kitchen and leaned over the breakfast bar to admire the view as Mac bent to put the drinks in the refrigerator. "Hey, Beautiful... you really cooked all this food for this afternoon?"

At the sound of his voice, Mac jumped and hit her head on the fridge light. "Dammit, Harm, how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me?" The anger in her voice masked her obvious embarrassment and hurt as she rubbed her head.

Not sounding too contrite, Harm made his way around the breakfast bar, and said, "Sorry, Mac...What can I say? I was distracted by the view." He shot her his patented smile even as he gently examined her head. "Let me take a look."

As his fingers moved through her hair, she forgot why exactly he was apologizing...

"Miss me?" she asked as she met his eyes.

"Always," he answered back, leaning in a little closer.

"Some help here!" came a disembodied voice from the front door.

They jumped apart in time to see AJ lead an elderly gentleman with a cane into the room.

"What can I do, sir?" Harm rushed to their aid and helped get the stranger settled in a chair near the deck.

AJ patted him on the shoulder and turned to Mac. "Colonel, I'd like you to meet William Anderson."

Mac just stared. Never in her wildest imaginings when she asked for the Admiral's assistance did she think he would deliver Mr. Anderson to her doorstep...deck. "Oh, my."

****
COMMERICAL BREAK
****
2020 EST
The Beach House
Rehoboth Beach, DE

Throughout the afternoon and during dinner, Mac, Chloe and AJ filled everyone in on the mystery that captivated them all over the last few days. Chloe told them about smelly Miss Melly and then Mac recounted the tale of the letters and the code key. AJ put all the puzzle pieces together and explained how Meredith put him in touch with the nursing home near Annapolis where William had been living. Then, everyone turned expectantly to William to finish the tale.

"Sir, how did she get back?" Harriet asked.

"Her final mission was the worst and the best for her," he answered.

"How so?" Singer encouraged.

"Despite how the movies have portrayed Mata Hari and the few other lady spies of the time, Catherine was bored. She spent most of her time attended soirees and teas with the British and French upper crust. She was a Navy brat, raised by her father and uncles. She was a tomboy who would have put Katherine Hepburn to blush and more beautiful than any woman I've met before or since. Catherine was raised as a capable and intelligent woman. She did not suffer fools gladly and could kick the keyster of any man who crossed her path." He stopped, took picture of his enigmatic Catherine from his wallet and passed it to Mac.

"She's beautiful, sir." Mac

"Yes, she was, Colonel. Sitting around the drawing rooms of London and Paris was not her idea of contributing to the effort. And to make matters worse, many times her superiors dismissed the intelligence she gathered about the atrocities being perpetrated as too incredible to be believed."

Mac's eyebrow nearly hit her hairline. William chuckled at her reaction.

"Oh, not by me, I knew better than to doubt her reports, but the higher-ups in Washington were not so bright. At the time, everyone had their heads in the sand about what was really happening in Europe. The British were more concerned with saving their own skins than really stopping the monster that was invading borders throughout Europe. And we couldn't find a good enough reason to get involved until the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor." He shook his head sadly.

Everyone was silent for a moment, realizing just how close a witness their mysterious Catherine was to the horrors of that time.

"In any case, where was I?"

"Her last mission?" Harm urged him, as he too got a look at the snapshot being passed around the table.

"Oh, oh, yes. Her last assignment. The one that brought her home to me. She boarded an ocean liner, The Queen Anne, bound for America, to protect the most sensitive weapon Washington could procure. At the time, the elite scientists in Europe who were not part of Hitler's grand scheme were trying to leave in droves. Many of them came here. She called him Thor's Hammer. I don't know his real name. She was bringing him here to work with others that had escaped and were developing weapons for the United States."

"The Manhattan Project?" Chloe asked. Everyone turned to her in amazement. "What? Mr. Fitzgerald, Eighth Grade American History," she explained with a shrug. The 'duh' in her statement once again was left unsaid.

William shook his finger at her and laughed. "Yes, dear. You are exactly right."

"Please continue, sir," AJ said, sitting a bit closer just as enthralled in the story as his younger officers.

"She finally felt like she was making a difference in the war effort. Europe was being decimated. Some of us in the War Department knew it wouldn't be long before we were drawn into the conflict. During the voyage, the Germans commandeered the ship and Catherine was almost executed. Fortunately, there was another American on board and between the two of them and the crew, they were able to retake control of the ship and get it and its important passenger to the West Indies."

"Who was the other agent?" Mac asked.

"I don't know. Catherine didn't know either. She was so angry that, after all her years of service, the OSS still didn't trust her to do her job. She quit as soon as she returned to Washington. Our superiors denied having anyone else on board, but she had had enough of the BS as she put it." He sat back in his chair nearly exhausted from the remembering and telling of the greatest story in his long life.

"What did she do then?" Harriet wondered.

"She returned to Norfolk to help her father and uncles for a time. She allowed me to still be a part of her life, but she was done with Washington. It took me years to convince her to marry me."

"Why? The letters. You loved each other very much." Chloe was puzzled. The letters she and Mac found spoke of such devotion, she'd assumed William was waiting for her at the docks when the ship returned.

"Yes, we did, and we said it in every letter with every stroke of our pens. But she left Washington, as a hero, but disgusted with the games played by those in power. She didn't want any part of the politics my career required and I couldn't impede her independence. It's what made her so beautiful." He smiled remembering her coppery red hair and brilliant blue eyes. "We danced around it for years, but when we were finally at war, our personal struggles seemed so pointless. She finally relented and made me a very happy man for almost sixty years."

"Wow," Chloe exclaimed.

"Yeah, wow," Harriet agreed wistfully.

Singer even smiled at the incredible tale.

Chloe turned to see Mac's reaction to the conclusion of their mystery only to find she was not behind them There was a soft click as the doors to the deck closed. Everyone looked around to discover their hostess missing.

"I should go find her," Chloe volunteered cheerfully. "There's a great dessert she wanted you all to try."

Only a hush answered her. Until, Harm spoke up. "No, Chloe. Let me," he said quietly. "Why don't the rest of you start and I'll bring her back." He followed Mac out to the deck.

AJ gave William a tight smile and a nod. Singer looked away and followed Harriet and Chloe into the kitchen. Sturgis just sat where he was, petting Jingo in silence.

"Hey," Harm said as he came up behind her. Mac had walked off the deck and was standing on the sand, looking out at the moon on the water.

"Is that what we did, Harm? Dance around each other. Each thinking we were doing the right thing for the other?" she asked still looking at the water.

"Yes, I think we did," he answered as he came closer and put his arms around her. She leaned back ever so slightly and he took her weight.

"Well, I am glad we aren't doing that anymore."

" Me, too. I haven't wanted to do it for a while now, I was waiting for you."

"I'm sorry. I hope it was worth it." She turned her head and looked up at him.

"It had its moments, but yes, it was." Harm leaned down and softly kissed her mouth. She turned in his embrace and allowed him to pull her closer.

Sturgis rose from his chair and began closing the blinds along the back of the house.

"Commander," AJ said as he handed him a plate of chocolate cake. "Did you and Rabb ever find that transcript you were looking for?"

"Why, yes, Admiral. It was in the first box the whole time, just misfiled. It wasn't really lost at all," Sturgis answered as he cut into the dessert.

"Isn't that the way sometimes? The things you need most are found right in front of you."

Sturgis smiled in reply and just kept eating his cake.

THE END

NEXT WEEK ON JAG: Another exciting episode brought to you by veteran VS Author Bree.

AN2: Resource for Shakespeare quotes: AbsolutelyShakespeare.com. I'll give points to anyone who can find them all.

AN3: Some parts of this story were shamelessly stolen from CC and 1013. But, since he never gave us much of a back-story on what happening, I figured I could play with it a little.