Title: Sessions 
Author: Lisa Parker
E-mail:  Mzgriffon@aol.com
Rating:  PG and some Harm/Mac shipper.
Classification: Best Mac Characterization
Spoilers: Anything up to Surface Warfare
Summary:  What happens when the Admiral says enough 
is enough and orders Mac to get help.
Disclaimer: JAG belongs to TPTB, otherwise well you 
know... And no copyright infringement intended blah, 
blah, blah.

Sessions  
Tuesday
1530 EST
JAG Ops

I did it again.  For the third time in a month, I 
walked out of the office without saying so much as 
good-bye and went to my appointment.

I know it's making him crazy.  I'm sure he thinks I 
am skipping out to meet Mic and he resents it.  He 
probably would have called me on it by now, but the 
Admiral knows the whole story and is covering for me.

Thank God.

The Admiral has been a big help throughout this 
summer.  He left me alone to sort out all the 
changes. Until he caught me in the office at 0100 
four weeks ago.  He would have appreciated the 
dedication, but for the fact that I wasn't working on 
a case.  I was sorting files and cleaning my desk.  
He didn't say anything right away.  Not that night.  
But when he checked with the Marine guard and found 
out I'd been there past 2200 for each of the four 
weekday nights prior to that and both weekend 
afternoons, he confronted me.  No, he ordered me to 
explain myself.

++++
1 month earlier
0930 EST
JAG Ops

"Colonel, what the hell were you doing last night," 
he barked.  "It's been a very quiet summer at JAG.  
There is nothing here to warrant that kind of 
effort."

"I'm sorry, sir.  It's just the files need to be done 
and I have no time to do it during the day.  As your 
Chief of Staff, it is..."

"Mac, stop.  My Chief of Staff does not purge files.  
That's what I have a Gunny for.  And your office has 
always looked like ground zero.  So, I ask again, 
what is going on?"

I just had to be honest, especially with him.  He's 
put up with a lot, and frankly, I need to let someone 
into this hell I'm trapped in.  One of my own making.  
With a deep breath, I say, "I'm avoiding Mic, sir."

"What?"

"I'm making it nearly impossible for him to see me."

"Why?'

"It's complicated."

"Nothing is ever simple for you, Mac.  Why not just 
tell him to take a hike?"

I raised an eyebrow that said "Yeah, right."  I'm 
thinking you try telling a man who loves you enough 
to give up a Naval career and move 10,000 miles that 
after 6 months you're still not sure you want to 
marry him.

The Admiral breaks though my thoughts. Softly he 
says, "What do you want, Marine? You can't keep doing 
this."

"Doing what, sir?"

"Mac, you're a Colonel in the US Marine Corp.  You 
are a senior staff officer.  Why do you keep acting 
like a recruit in boot camp?"

"A what, sir?  I had no idea my work was so shabby 
that you want to bust me down to boot camp."

"I'm not talking about JAG.  I'm talking about your 
life, Mac. When was the last time Sarah MacKenzie did 
what she wanted to do?  You dance to my tune because 
the US Marine Corps says you have to and you have 
chosen to be in the military, but why do you do it 
out there?" He pointed out the window.

"Sir, with all do respect, you sound like all that 
New Age mumbo jumbo.  Look, I'm not having a crisis 
here.  I just have stuff to sort out."

"Fine, but get help.  There's been too much "stuff" 
for too long.  Don't try to do it by yourself.  It 
hasn't worked yet.  That's a direct order."

The next day he came in with three names and numbers.  
I had no choice.  He ordered me to call them and make 
an appointment.  They were all civilians, probably so 
whatever "stuff" came up would stay out of my service 
record.  He can be a teddy bear. He knows I don't 
need another black mark on my record.

The first two were so intimidated by my rank, they 
refused to even see me.  The third one.  Well, God 
does have guardian angels on earth.  I've never 
connected to a woman so easily.  I've never 
considered this before probably still wouldn't have.  
But he gave me a direct order.

So here I am.

+++++

"Why are you here, Sarah?" she asked.

So as not to jump in with both feet, I keep it 
simple.  "Men?"

She chuckled at my response. "Yeah, I get a lot of 
that. Any particular man?"

"You want to make a list?" I ask her.

"A list?"

It's my turn to chuckle.  "Yes, it will help you keep 
them straight and then we can tackle them in order," 
I said.

"You making a battle plan, Sarah? Or trying to scare 
me off?"

Ok, I'm not going to get away with much here, I 
think. " Doctor, I'm practically engaged to someone 
I've know for two years, but dated only once.  I love 
someone I've known for years, but he can't "let go, 
yet."

"Oh.  Let's make that list, first.  Then we will come 
back to this."

"Here goes.  Do you have enough paper?"  My sarcasm 
is not lost on her. She knows this is not my idea. " 
My father, Eddie, Chris, John, Dalton, AJ, Harm and 
Mic.  Still have room on that pad of yours?" She 
nods.  "Then make another column."

"For what?"

"Which ones are still alive?"

"Ok, Sarah."  She responses so calmly.  I think now I 
really have her going.  I am messing with her head 
just as much as she's going to mess with mine before 
we are done here.

+++++

And so began my adventure in therapy.  I did not tell 
anyone what I was doing.  Not Harm and certainly not 
Mic.  I'm not sure whose reaction I was more 
concerned about.  But this was something I had to do 
for me and me alone.  It was far too private to share 
with even them.  Not only were they half the reason I 
was there, but I had the sense that what ever I 
discovered during those sessions would change our 
relationships.  Well, that's the point. 

It was easier at first to tackle the list one at a 
time and in order.  It just made more sense to me 
that way.

The doctor and I finished that first appointment 
discussing my father.  It was actually comforting to 
talk about all that had happened during my childhood.  
To share the fear and rage over things, that at the 
time, I was powerless to change.  It also helped that 
I had taken those first few steps to free myself of 
it all when he had died.  He wasn't to blame for 
everything that happened and neither was I.  One of 
the satisfactions that came out of that session was 
the idea of giving gifts to the little girl who once 
had so little to brighten her days.  Coming to terms 
with that part of my past seemed so easy and simple.  

++++++

Afterwards I headed to the mall to buy myself a gift.  
After trying on some shoes and visiting a half dozen 
perfume counters.  I found myself in front of the toy 
shop.  I went in just for the heck of it.  Ten 
minutes later, I bought coloring books, four of them. 
And the Big Box of 64 Crayola Crayons.  Just the 
smell of them made me giggle.  A Marine Colonel 
giggling.  I was standing in the toy shop giggling. 
By the time I noticed the stares from other shoppers, 
I was roaring.  It was wonderful.  I couldn't 
remember the last time I laughed out loud just for 
the sheer enjoyment of the moment.  I felt like I was 
8 again.  

Then I remembered that was the whole point of the 
excursion. 

I spent most of the evening coloring.  Just Jingo, me 
and Crayola.  A dozen or so masterpieces later, I 
picked one.  I slipped it into one of the interoffice 
envelopes I had laying around the house.  I'll take 
that to the office tomorrow.

++++-

Harm came into my office the next morning with coffee 
for both of us. "Mac, did you see the picture of AJ's 
Harriet hung on the refrigerator?  I had no idea our 
godson was so artistically inclined.  He even colored 
within the lines."

"Harm, he's only 18 months old," I replied.  I needed 
some way to say thank you to the Admiral without 
being too obvious.  So the picture of a fireman 
rescuing a kitten in a tree mysteriously showed up in 
the kitchen saying: To AJ Thanks.

"Yeah, well, he is our godson.  So he has to be 
incredibly gifted," Harm said giving me that smile 
that has always wrecked havoc with my concentration.  
I just smiled back.  He is clueless and I have no 
intention of telling him the truth.  What would be 
the point? I'm having my fun just being the mystery 
artist.  

Just then my phone rang.  "Mackenzie."

"Mac, You're welcome." The Admiral said.  "Let me 
know how it goes." Then he hung up before I could say 
anything. 

As I put the phone down, Harm gave me a look.  "Wrong 
extension." I shrugged. 

++++-
     
Three days later I was back in the Chair.  Spilling 
my guts about the awful night that Eddie died.  

"This is so much more difficult than last time," I 
whined.  

"Baby steps, Sarah," she encouraged. " One at a 
time."

I told her about the party, the drinking and the 
accident.  I told her about the guilt I felt because 
I could not save Eddie.  And that's when she nailed 
me.

"Why do you feel guilty?  Were you driving that 
night?  Where you the one who made him drink so much? 
Who made you responsible for someone else's actions?"  
Boy, did she nail me.

"But we were friends and I let him down."  

"How? Because you were still breathing?"

"I could have taken the keys... or called a cab."

"How? You say you were as drunk as he was."
 
"But..."

"But what, Sarah?"

"You got me.  You really got me.  I don't know. Why 
do I hold on to this?"  

"That is what you are here to find out.  Why do you 
make yourself responsible for those around you?  Why 
can't you take care of Sarah the way you try to take 
care of others?"

"Because men have died because of me," I practically 
shouted.  "Because I am a drunk and a screw up."

"Says who!" She shouted back.
 
"I do!"

"How are you a screw up?"

"I just am! Eddie is dead because I was too drunk to 
do anything! Chris is dead because I was too stupid! 
I tried to take the gun away...I went to John when I 
should gone to Harm!  It was a mess.  I almost lost 
everything.  Dalton, he didn't deserve what 
happened!!! God! I'm such a mess!!"

"Whoa, Whoa, Whoa.  Slow down."  She reached over and 
grabbed me by my shoulders.  "Sarah, take a deep 
breathe.  Now take another and one more.  You OK?"  I 
glared at her.  "No, don't answer that. Stupid 
question."

Her sense of humor is what keeps me coming back for 
more of this torture.

"I can't believe I lost control like that."

"I can," she says evenly.  "Sarah, if you have never 
dealt with these issues, once you start sometime 
things just rush out.  You don't have to control it.  
Not yet, anyway.  Listen, I'm sorry I pushed so hard 
a while ago.  But can't you at least intellectually 
understand that unless you are a cold-blooded killer. 
And. And you actually pulled the trigger, there is no 
way you can be responsible for someone else's death.  
God and the devil just don't share that power with us 
mere mortals."

"Let's say you're right, I'm not responsible.  Then 
what am I? Jinxed? Cursed? How could it have gotten 
that bad?"

"I don't believe in curses or jinxes.  And is your 
life really that bad?"

"Well, yes.  Look where I am?  I have Mic who wants 
to marry me and then there's Harm..."

"Sarah, you are missing the point.  Why are you 
defining who you are in terms of your relationships?"

Just then my beeper went off.  "Saved by the bell. 
It's the Admiral.  Gotta go."

"We're not done yet."  

"Yes, we are.  For now.  Give me some time with what 
we've been talking about." I pleaded looking for some 
respite from my outburst.

"OK, I'll let you go early today." She smiled. "But 
there's homework.  Make me a list of ways you are not 
a screw up.  We'll talk about it next time."

+++++

It turns out I had two weeks to do that list.  Not 
that I put that much time into it.  Harm and I were 
sent to Turkey to handle a case of Romeo and Juliet, 
Marine Corp style.  Not our idea of a good time.  
Between Turkish parents stuck in the dark ages, a 19 
year old Marine Corporal head over heels in love and 
a misogynistic CO who thought I was the anti-Christ, 
Harm and I were tossing the Tylenol bottles back and 
forth like we were playing tennis.

When all was said and done, the corporal was 
discharged and married the girl.  They came back to 
the states and were featured in a weekly magazine.  I 
wish them the best. It was a stupid case for us to 
have been called in for.     

++++-

2000 Local Tuesday
Military Transport
Somewhere over the Mediterranean

On the flight back home, I finally got down to work.  
Harm thought I was working on case notes.

"Hey, Mac, give it a rest.  You wrote that report 
last night after dinner.  I doubt the Admiral expects 
you to have it first thing in the morning."

"Harm, it's not the case report."  I would say more 
to him about it but I'm still not ready to share this 
with him.

I looked at the blank legal pad.  Fourteen inches of 
yellow paper hasn't looked this intimidating since my 
first year at law school.

Ways I am Not a Screw Up:

1.  I'm still sober, after 3 years. No, make that 
more than 10 years.  One slip did not kill me, but is 
sure made me appreciate my sobriety more. 

2.  I can identify all the dinosaur tracks around Red 
Rock Mesa.

3.  I can tell time without a watch.

4.  I am a Marine Lieutenant Colonel and Admiral 
Cheggwidden's Chief of 	Staff.

5.  I hired the Gunny.

6.  I restrained myself with Colonel Harris two days 
ago, when he called me Harm's secretary.

"Harm, did I thank you for the other day?"

"You mean when Harris told me to have you type the 
discharge papers?  I didn't think I'd get you out of 
that office fast enough.  He obviously had no idea 
who he was dealing with.  I'm glad you didn't deck 
him, Mac.  We would have had to stay in Turkey for a 
few more weeks while I figured out how to get you out 
of the brig." 

7.  I have never been sent to the brig.

"My white knight. Thanks, Harm. I owe you one for 
that."

"Pay me back by...," Harm started and stopped.  He's 
looking out the window.  He doesn't seem sure he 
should finish the thought.  I know the look.  I have 
seen it countless times this summer. 

"By what, flyboy?"

"By...by making me some lasagna when we get home," 
Harm said, leaning over invading my space near the 
window.  "I have had this craving for Sarah 
MacKenzie's Special Vegetable Lasagna all summer.  I 
can't remember the last time I had any. What do you 
say, Mac?  Will you make me some lasagna?"  

8.  I make a really mean vegetable lasagna

"Well...OK, but you have to do the shopping. I'm 
stuck in Pentagon meetings for the next three days.  
And I know my fridge is very bare. Meet me at my 
place Friday night at 1800.  And I will make you some 
killer lasagna."

"It's a date, Mac.  Should I get enough for Mic, 
too?" Is he holding his breath?

"Ah, I don't know," I whispered.  "He's been really 
busy with his new job and all. I never know when I'll 
see him."

"Trouble in paradise?" 

"No," I answered quickly.  Too quickly.

"Spill it, Marine.  What's going on?"

"Nothing.  Really.  Look, I can't talk about this 
right now.  There is nothing going on."  Who am I 
trying to convince him or me? "Just finish reading 
your book, I'm trying to work here."

He responded, "All work and no play..."

"Harmon Rabb, I'll make it an order.  Leave me 
alone." I try to sound playful, but the look on his 
face.  I think I hurt his feelings.  He so wants me 
to spill my guts, but will he spill his in return?  
No way. He can't "let go, yet." 

I get back to my list.

9.  I have Chloe and little AJ in my life.

10. I have really good friends like Bud and Harriet.

11. I have Jingo.

12. I quit Dalton's law firm and went back to JAG.

13. I can carry a tune.

14. My uniforms are so perfect, they would still pass 
inspection 	at boot camp.

15. I went to Russia with Harm.

16. I had a life while Harm went back to flying.

17. I can speak Russian, Farsi and Japanese.

18. I prevented Harm from killing Holbarth.

19. I successfully defended Harm against a murder 
charge.

20. I have not moved Mic's ring to the other hand.


Wow, what a list.  I can't believe I came up with 
twenty things I haven't screwed up.  Maybe, this 
isn't torture after all.  It's a long flight and I 
love challenges let's see how many I can come up with 
before we hit Andrews.

++++-

It was a really long flight.  By the time we landed 
at Andrews, I had a list of 114 things I have never 
screwed up.  I impressed myself.  I had not been 
completely truthful with Harm about the Pentagon 
meetings.  I had two, but on Friday afternoon I went 
to see Her.  Since it was late in the afternoon, I 
told Harm just to meet me at my place and let himself 
in if I wasn't home yet.

++++-

1630 EST Friday
An office near Falls Church
 
"So, how was your trip?" she asked.

"OK.  Not Harm's and my idea of a fun case, but we 
got the job done and that's what JAG pays us to do," 
I stated flatly.

"Where's your homework?"

"Right here."  I pulled out the yellow pages and 
handed them to her.

As she glanced through the pages, she said, "Sarah, 
anyone ever tell you you're an overachiever?"

"What do you mean?  I did the assignment."

"Yes, you did. You did it very well.  But even I 
can't come up with 114 things I'm really great at.  
How did it feel when you were done?"

"Pretty good.  It was like weeding through my closet 
and only keeping the clothes that are in great shape, 
the right color and look really good on.  It was 
really kind of fun, too.  I did it on the plane back 
from Turkey.  Harm was sitting next to me.  He was 
pestering me to stop working.  I almost had to order 
him to leave me alone to get it done."

"Did you still believe you are a 'screw up'?"

"No."

"Do you still feel like one?"

"No, not really"

"Good, now we can move on to the next man on your 
list."

"That's it?" I was stunned.  "A list of things I'm 
good at and I'm no longer a 'screw up'?"

"Sarah, you are a smart woman.  I am not here to 
connect the dots for you.  I am just giving you an 
idea as to where the dots are.  The rest is up to 
you.  The list is a reference, if you will, a place 
to confirm, in your own words, that you are not as 
bad or messed up as you sometimes think.  You know 
that.  You wouldn't be as good at what you do 
otherwise." 

"I guess I thought this would be harder.  Or more 
complicated.  I have felt so confused by what is 
going on.  Now just looking at in a more concrete way 
has cleared away some of that feeling."

"You know how you feel about the men we have and have 
not talked about.  I'm just here to bring clarity to 
how you act on those feelings.  We haven't talked 
about your alcoholism or how you stopped drinking, 
because you have already dealt with it.  You have 
been sober for years.
So, why rehash what you know?  We are here to look at 
what you may not know about what you are feeling.  
Now, are we going to continue with the next man on 
your list or not?"

"Do we have to?  This one is not my favorite." I 
groaned like teenager being forced to clean my room.

"It's your dime so to speak," she prodded.

"Where do I begin to talk about Chris?" I paused 
trying to answer my own question.   "I married him 
before Eddie's accident.  We spent the whole time 
together drunk and crazy.  He was finally picked up 
for some stupid crime and was sent to jail.  After I 
sobered up, I went into the Marine Corps.  I was so 
stupid then.  I never got a divorce.  It was such a 
black time in my life, I thought I could just ignore 
that it had ever happened.  I was really young and 
dumb.

"Anyway, he came to DC a few years ago.  He 
threatened to tell the Marines about our marriage. I 
got scared.  I really loved my life at the time and I 
did not want him anywhere near it.  It turns out he 
was into the mob for some money.  I gave him what I 
could just to get rid of him.  But, he wanted us to 
begin again.  I told him no, that I was done with him 
and that I was finally getting a divorce.  It got 
really ugly after that. Chris ended up dead and I was 
up on murder charges along with my former CO."

Something really strange dawned on me in that moment 
and I grinned to myself. I had tears in my eyes, too. 
"What was the smile for?" she asked.

"I just realized that for one brief moment all the 
men I loved, thought I loved or do love were 
basically all in the same room.  Harm, Chris, John 
and Mic.  They all wanted something from me in one 
way or another.  No wonder I was so incredibly 
confused and scared.  It seemed like this great life 
that I finally pulled together was going to crash 
down on me.  And, I was powerless to stop it.  I 
wasn't sure who the lifeline was. 

"Chris was dead and doing everything he said he would 
do to me from his grave.  All my dirty little secrets 
were in the spotlight.  There was nowhere to hide and 
nowhere to run. The only thing to do was deal with it 
and I couldn't even do that really well. 

"I dragged John into it as well.  Our brief affair 
was a mistake and a really, really stupid one.  
Between my marriage and the fact that he was my CO in 
Japan, it is amazing I even had a military career for 
Chris to threaten.  The affair was over quickly, but 
the passage of time coupled with the fact no one knew 
about my marriage made it all the more sordid.  I was 
so ashamed of myself.  It's incredible to me that I 
didn't start drinking again.  That would have made it 
much worse. I just wanted to disappear. Harm wouldn't 
let me quit.  He made me fight back.  Hey, you're 
awfully quiet over there." 

"You are telling me a very interesting story.  I 
didn't want to interrupt.  Please go on."

"Anyway, Harm was able to get me off the murder 
charges, despite Mic's best efforts."  I stopped.  
Dead in my tracks. I felt the heat from the light 
bulb finally going off in my head.  "Mic almost... 
almost put me away for murder."  Alarm bells rang out 
so loudly in my head I swear she could hear them too.  
"And now I wear his ring?"   

"Do you love Mic?"

"I don't know.  At the moment, remembering all this 
really makes me angry.  How can I ever consider 
marrying him given that kind of history?  I don't 
want someone in my life who could ever think that of 
me.  Am I still making the wrong choices and picking 
the wrong men?"  

"Then, why are you with him?"

A triumphant smile crossed my lips. "Because I used 
to think I didn't deserve anyone better."

"So, counselor, what are you going to do about it?"

1815 EST Friday
Mac's Car
Somewhere on the Beltway

Ok, I am not a screw up and I deserve better that 
what I have.  So, what am I going to do about it.  
Right now, nothing.  I have to make lasagna for Harm.  
And I am late.  The intensity of today's appointment 
distracted us from the time.  I sped across 
Washington hoping traffic wouldn't make me later that 
I was.  As I parked my car, I saw Harm's SUV down the 
block.  For once, he's on time and I'm not.

+++++++

1830 EST Friday
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown

I raced upstairs.  He must have been watching for me, 
because he is there at the door, waiting.

"The Brass get diarrhea of the mouth, Mac?" he 
smirked.

"No, I did," I parried back.

"You?" he laughed.  He has no idea what I'm talking 
about.

"Sorry, sometimes it happens.  I hope you weren't 
waiting long.  Let me go change and then I'll start 
dinner." I called back over my shoulder as I headed 
for my bedroom.

"Take your time," he said to my back.  "I found 
something to keep me busy."

"Oh," I shouted from behind the door.

"Yeah, I solved the mystery of Little AJ's artistic 
talent."

Oh, no. I groaned silently to myself.  I am dead.

"So, Mac, how long were you going to let me believe 
AJ did the picture and what does the Admiral have to 
do with it?"

We were having this conversation through the door.

"Harm...." My skirt zipper got caught on my pantyhose 
and I pulled on it hard.  It wasn't releasing.  One 
more try then I have to rip it off. Oh, good I got 
it.  Finally free of my skirt, I responded to Harm.  
"It's not what you think."

"How could you possibly know what I'm thinking, Mac?"

"Look can you hold that thought until I'm finished in 
here.  I really can explain.  Just not in my 
underwear."  I'm thinking and dressing at the same 
time.  Usually this is not a problem, but I need to 
calm down, before I go out there.  I'm not going to 
hide this from him, not any more.  It was fun to keep 
him guessing but I have come too far today to start 
running again.  So, I'll start by explaining the 
coloring books he obviously found under the coffee 
table.

"Alright, but hurry up.  I can't wait for this one," 
he said.  I could hear the laughter in his voice.

"OK, I said as I walked out of the bedroom and toward 
the kitchen.  "If you want to eat before midnight, we 
have to talk and cook at the same time."

"So what's with the crayons, Mac?  I know Chloe 
hasn't been in DC lately and she strikes me as too 
old for Barbie and Power Puff Girls coloring books."  
He said as he waved them in my face.

I reached over and pulled them out of his hands.  
"They're not hers, Harm.  They're mine.  But, then 
you knew that, didn't you?"

"I guessed," he said smiling.

"A month or so ago, the Admiral realized I was 
spending way too much time at the office.  When I 
told him why, he ordered me to go see a therapist.  
So I did.  The coloring books were a present from me, 
to me.  Does that make sense?  Here chop these while 
I get the water and sauce going."

The conversation stalled as we worked.  By the time 
we got the lasagna in the oven and the salad made, 
Jingo was pestering us for a walk.  "OK, Jingo, let's 
go.  You've been waiting very patiently.  Come on, 
Harm.  We can walk and talk at the same time.

++++
1910 EST 
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown

As we strolled through the neighborhood, I continued.  
"You once told me I pushed all the good men away, and 
you were right.  But then when I went after the good 
one, I got shot down."

"Mac, no...," he started.

"Let me finish, Harm."  I raised my hand to stop him.  
"This is not about you.  I was confused and hurt.  I 
went back to doing what I had always done before.  
Taking whatever I could get from whoever was 
offering.  I did it with Chris and booze.  I did it 
with John and sex.  With Dalton, it was the 
lifestyle.  Everything but what really mattered to 
me.  So now I'm just connecting the dots to what I 
what, what I need."

"What about Brumby?" Harm asked, not really looking 
at me.

"I don't know yet," I replied.  "You want to hear 
something funny?  Well, at least it struck me as 
funny.  And scary."

"What?"

"I realized today that I'm nearly engaged to a man 
who almost convicted me of murder.  How's that for an 
astounding revelation?" I chuckled.

"Gee, Mac, I never looked at it that way," Harm 
responded, his voice dripping in sarcasm."

"Harm, be nice.  I just figured this out two hours 
ago.  You obviously figured it out... what, somewhere 
over the Pacific in February.  Come on, let's go 
eat."

+++
2000 EST
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown

Over dinner, I took another step toward another dot.  
"I want to give Mic his ring back," I said.

"What??"  He nearly choked on a mouthful of salad.

"I want to give..."

"I heard you.  I am just surprised, that's all."

"I have more thinking and talking and sorting out to 
do before I can be with anyone.  As much as I want a 
good man, a great career and comfortable shoes, Harm, 
I need to be a good me first.  Otherwise the rest 
won't work."

"Isn't this a conversation you should be having with 
him?  Does he know what you've been doing?"

"No, I haven't told him any of this.  He gets so 
threatening by anything I do that's not work related.  
I couldn't tell him.  It would have prompted a 
confrontation that I really wasn't prepared for.  Now 
I am.

"Now I can tell him why and be able to explain myself 
without him thinking this is about you."

We finished and I started clearing the table.

"Hey, Mac, you don't have to protect me from Brumby?" 
he said as he followed me into the kitchen.

"I know that.  I just want you both to be very clear 
that this is not about either one of you.  It's about 
me. Period. End of sentence.  Case closed.  Court is 
adjourned.  Get it."  I turned to face him to make my 
point, but I didn't realize he was so close and we 
collided.  I dropped the plates and he reached for me 
as I slipped in the mess of congealed pasta and 
garlic bread on the floor.  He pulled me close to 
break my fall.

As we steadied ourselves, he said, "But Mac, I want 
it to be about me."

"Oh, Harm," I cried.  "For God's sake, have you hear 
a word I've said at all tonight."  I was yelling now 
and I pushed him away.  The tears were already 
coursing down my cheeks.

"What was I thinking?  I should have known better 
that to share any of this with you.  I'm not some 
trophy to be won.  Just because I'm giving the ring 
back doesn't mean I'm going to fall into your arms or 
into your bed, Harm."  I was in his face and 
screaming at the top of my lungs.  

As I backed him into the living room I handed him his 
jacket and said, "I think you should go now." My tone 
was much softer than before.

"Mac, listen to me..." he pleaded.

"No, I can't.  I won't go back to that night. Not 
now,"

"Sarah..."

"Don't call me that." I'm yelling again.  "You 
haven't earned the right, yet. Commander."

"Yet?" I never thought Harm could squeak, but he did 
then.

"Yeah. Yet.  Those three pesky letters have had me in 
a tailspin for months.  Now go.  Just go."  Suddenly, 
I felt so tired and worn out.

"OK, but just for now.  I know I blew it before, but 
I through standing on the sidelines watching other 
men break your heart."

++++
1530 EST Monday
An office near Falls Church

"...And with that he left.  I started cleaning up the 
mess. Well, at least the one we made in the kitchen.  
There wasn't much left.  Jingo ate most of it while 
Harm and I had our little showdown.

"When I came back from my run the next morning, he 
had left a message on my machine.  He apologized for 
what happened, thanked me for dinner and said he 
hoped I was OK."

"That's it?" she asked.

"Yep," I said with a rueful smile. 

"Why are you smiling...That's what you wanted.  He's 
the last dot. Isn't he?" She said liked she just 
discovered the secret of the Holy Grail.

"Yes, he is," I shyly admitted.

"Then, why did you throw him out?"  She must really 
think I've lost my mind now.

"Because I can't break up with Mic and go to Harm.  I 
won't let myself simply fall into his arms."

"Why not?"  Oh, she's got to be really exasperated 
with me now.  Over a month of putting it all together 
and all the pieces seem to be in place and I'm 
telling her no.  

"I can't let myself, because if it happens, then it 
has to happen because it's right for both of us.  You 
have to understand that Harm and I are so close that 
we can practically communicate without speaking.  We 
have been through so much together, but there have 
been times when we both pulled back and refused to 
let the other one in.  We have both hurt the other in 
some way and while I know what those times did to me, 
I have no idea what they did to him.  It'll keep.  
Neither one of us can hide this time."

"So what are you going to do about Mic?" she asked.  
"I take it you haven't talked to him yet."

"I'm having breakfast with him in the morning."

"What a lovely way to begin the day.  Scrambled eggs 
and hash browns with a side order of Dear John.  Poor 
guy.  I almost feel sorry for him," she joked.

"Hey, I thought you were on my side," I laughed.  We 
both had a fit of hysteria.

When we calmed down, she apologized.  "That was 
inappropriate of me, but I couldn't resist.  So... 
what are you going to tell him?

"I'm still trying to figure that out."


+++
0630 EST Tuesday
The Hamilton Cafe
Georgetown

Mic met me outside.  And wouldn't you know it, he had 
flowers.  Why do the wrong guys always do the right 
things?  God, this is going to kill me.  Suck it up, 
Marine.  You've worked too hard not to do this.  You 
owe it to yourself.

"Hi, luv.  I can't believe we are finally having a 
date. Even if it is breakfast," he said as he leaned 
in to kiss me.  He got my cheek.  "The admiral's been 
keeping you busy."

"Yes, Mic," I replied.  But not the way you think.

We sat down at one of the outdoor tables and gave our 
orders to the waitress.

"Mic," I said.  "Let me tell you a story about a 
little girl."

"The case you've been working on?  Sure, sure, go 
ahead."

Taking a deep breath, I began.  "This little girl 
grew up in a house were there was a lot of drinking 
and a lot of hitting and yelling, but not a lot of 
love.  It went on for years.  Eventually, her dad hit 
her mom too many times and her mom left.  But, she 
didn't take the little girl with her.  The little 
girl was left behind with an abusive, alcoholic 
father, who blamed her for driving her mother away.  
While he never hit her, he beat her with harsh and 
horrible words.  Relentlessly. As the little girl 
grew up, she tried to find a way out, a way to deal 
with her painful and powerless existence.  She became 
an alcoholic too.  She felt worthless and 
undeserving."

I stopped to collect myself and wipe the tears from 
my eyes.

"She felt she had to take whatever anyone was willing 
to give her and love whoever gave her what she 
wanted.  She was a very confused little girl.  Now, 
as sad and hopeless as all this sounds, after a time, 
the girl was able to put her life together.  She 
stopped drinking, found some real friends who loved 
her, and established a career she loved.  
Occasionally though, the confusion of the past would 
cloud her mind and her poor battered heart.

"And she made a few more mistakes.  One of those was 
letting someone believe she could love him as much as 
he loved her.  She got caught up, once again, in the 
attention he showered on her, in his relentless 
pursuit.  It stroked her fragile heart and deluded 
her into thinking she could return that love with the 
same intensity.  But she can't.  I can't, Mic.  I'm 
so sorry."

I looked away, for a moment, not able to reach his 
eyes.  "I can't go on letting you believe that I may 
one day say yes, when I know in my heart I never 
will." 

"Sarah, please. Can't you..."

"No, Mic, I have tried and it just isn't possible.  
I'm so sorry I didn't say anything sooner."  I took 
the ring off and pressed it into his hand.  "Give 
this to someone who loves you."  I got up, kissed his 
cheek and walked out.

I'd be lying if I said walking away from Mic didn't 
hurt.  It did, but I wasn't sorry.  It was never 
really about him.  Finally my heart was free.  Well, 
almost.

+++
0930 EST Tuesday
JAG Ops
Falls Church

By the time I got to the office, all hell had about 
broken loose.  The Admiral apparently had the flu and 
was down for the count.  Meanwhile, the Gunny had 
helped Tiner move into new quarters over the weekend 
and threw out his back, as they were finishing up the 
night before.  That left me and Harriet holding down 
the fort, while Harm and Bud handled an investigation 
in Pensacola.  It was Girls weeks at the office.  
Between Carolyn, Harriet and me, we managed to keep 
Singer in the archives and out of our hair.  She can 
be such a pest.

The phone calls started on that afternoon.  When I 
got back from court during the lunch recess, there 
were two from Mic, three from Harm and one from Bud.  
I returned the one from Bud.  When court adjourned 
for the day, the tally was Mic 5 and Harm 7.  I was 
working in my office when the flowers came.

There was a knock at my door.  "Ma'am."  

"Yes, what is it, Tiner?"

"These just arrived for you."  He handed me the most 
God-awful spray of pink lilies.  Their cloying scent 
wrapped around me the same way that the man who sent 
them had.  I took the card and after a brief glance 
put it through the shredder in my office.

"Give them to Commander Imes, Tiner and do not tell 
her you stopped here first."

An hour later, he was back.  With roses.  "Just, give 
me the card, Tiner and put the flowers on Lt. Sims' 
desk."  Then I called Bud for his help.  He was quite 
willing to take the credit.  It was obvious during 
our conversation that he was aware that Harm had sent 
them to me.  For a moment, I almost took the flowers 
back.  Harm has never sent me flowers.

+++
1330 Wednesday
JAG Ops
Falls Church

The Admiral called to check in.

"How's it going, Colonel?"

"Everything is fine, sir.  How are you feeling?"

"Better, Sydney gave me the most vile concoction."

"Sir, anything more than an aspirin is vile to you."

"Well, it worked at least.  I'll be back on Monday. 
You seem to have everything in hand.  Anything 
interesting happen while I've been gone?" he queried. 

"Thank you, sir.  The wall haven't fallen down 
without you here, if that's what you mean."

"Well, of course the walls are still intact, you sent 
Rabb to Pensacola," he laughed.

I laughed, too.  "You're never going to let him live 
that one down.  Are you sir?"

"Hell, no.  But that's not what I meant.  How are you 
doing, Mac?"

"Fine, sir."   

"Is Brumby hiking yet?"

"Yes, sir.  He is.  Sort of."

"Sort of?  What's he doing now?"

"Well, Admiral, I gave him the ring back, but he 
still calls and sends flowers. Tiner is running 
interference for me.  And I've got Harriet beaming 
because of the flowers she thinks Bud is sending her 
and Carolyn's get flowers too."

"What does he think he's doing?"

Should I tell him the rest?  He'll find out anyway, 
he always does.  "It's not just him sir.  Harm is 
sending me flowers, too."

"Finally got off his six did he?"  He's enjoying this 
way too much.

"Admiral?!" I gasped, had I been that transparent?

"Look, all I care about is that no one gets bloodied 
this time."

"No, sir, that's not going to happen."

"OK, then I'll leave it in your capable hands.  See 
you Monday at staff call.  Good-bye, Colonel."

"Good-bye, sir, feel better."

"I already do, Mac."  I could hear the smile in his 
voice.


+++
1530 EST Friday
JAG Ops
Falls Church

I had a migraine, and Harriet and Carolyn were in 
ecstasy.  They had each received two more 
arrangements of flowers.  Roses kept coming from 
Harm, and Birds of Paradise and Tulips from Mic.  
Tulips, where in the hell did he get Tulips in 
September?  This is getting ridiculous.

I pressed my intercom button.  "Tiner, next time 
either Commander Rabb or Mr. Brumby call, put them 
through."

"Yes, ma'am."

I got up and walked out to the bullpen.  I stopped at 
Harriet's desk and wistfully fingered the roses.

"Aren't they beautiful, Ma'am? I can't imagine what 
Bud was thinking."

I jumped. I was so lost in maybes, and yets, that I 
hadn't heard her approach. "Yes, Harriet they are.  
Say, I was thinking why don't you and Carolyn and I 
go out tonight.  Sort of celebrate Women's Week so to 
speak."

"That's a wonderful idea.  Let me just call the 
sitter and let her know I'll be late."

"Fine, I'll go ask Carolyn."  Carolyn was usually 
game for anything, so it was practically a moot 
point.  The three of us left together at the end of 
the day and headed for McMurphy's.

+++

1800 EST Friday
McMurphy's Tavern


"OK, Colonel.  Spill it."  Carolyn began as we 
ordered our drinks and found a table.  "You've had 
all week to give us the details and you didn't.  So 
now start talking."

"About what, Commander?" I said innocently.  I knew 
damn well what she was referring to.

"The ring, or should I say the lack of the ring."

"You haven't worn it since Tuesday, Ma'am.   And 
Tiner told me he's been taking an awful lot of 
messages, but that you haven't returned any phone 
calls to either Mr. Brumby or Commander Rabb," 
Harriet said.

"So what gives, Mac," Carolyn lauched into 
prosecution mode.

I turned to Harriet and said, "Remind me to shoot, 
Tiner on Monday." To them both, I began to explain, 
"As for the ring, I decided I just couldn't do it.  
It wasn't what I wanted and it wasn't who I wanted.  
I let it go on too long.  Actually, it should never 
have happened.  But it did. And now it's over."

"Does Rabb know?" 

"Carolyn..."  She really can be too much.

"Well, does he?"  Carolyn was relentless especially 
with Harriet backing her up all the way.

I hesitated a bit.  "Yes, he knows some of it."

"And he's not here pleading his own case?"

I ducked my chin as I felt my face turn five shades 
of red and tried to turn the conversation to the 
successes of the past week and our weekend plans.

"Well, Well.  Bud looks like we found your wife."

We all turned and saw Harm and Bud approach the 
table.  Harriet jumped up and greeted her husband 
with all the enthusiasm of one might expect after a 
weeklong separation.

"You guys are home early.  We thought you weren't 
coming back until tomorrow,"
I said.

"We decided we could work on the plane just as easily 
as at the BOQ." Harm replied.

Bud chimed in that he had checked in with the sitter 
and discovered where Harriet was.  So here they were.

Harm ordered beers and pulled up a couple of more 
chairs.  Carolyn decided to go shortly there after 
and the four of us order more food and more drinks.  
We talked about the case the men had been on, the 
Gunny's back and the Admiral's flu.  Someone had 
started up the jukebox and Bud asked Harriet to 
dance.

"What do you say, Mac?  Want to dance?"

No, my head said.  "Yes," came out of my mouth.

As we started to dance, I said, "Harm, I meant what I 
said last week."

"About what, Mac?  I see you gave the ring back."

"About needing more time to get my head on straight."

"It's just a dance, Mac."

"Yeah, then explain the flowers and the phone calls."

He turned red.  "I just wanted you to know how often 
you were on my mind."

"Sarah," came the booming voice of Mic Brumby from 
behind us.  "Is this why you gave me the ring back?  
Because of him?"  He was obviously drunk and 
agitated.  

"Excuse me, Harm."

"Let me...," he started.

"NO," I cut him off with my hand.  "I will do this."  
I turned away from him and started pulling Mic 
towards the door.  

"Mic, what are you doing here?" I was annoyed and 
angry.

"I need you, I love..."

"Look. Mic.  You and I are done.  Think what ever you 
want about me.  I don't care.  It's over.  Don't 
call.  Don't write.  Don't send flowers.  It won't 
change anything."  

"Brumby, you should go." Harm was right behind me.  

"Harm, I said I would handle this."  I am really 
beginning to think he is deaf.  

"Just watching your six, Mac."

"No, you're not.  I don't need you to watch my six. 
You're claiming your prize.  Well, guess what guys 
I'm not a prize!"

I turned back to Mic, "You need to leave, Mic.  I'm 
sorry if I hurt you but it's over.

"As for you, Harm. What do you need spelled out?  
What don't you understand about me and how I feel?  
Don't you get it Harm?  You're the one who's been 
breaking my heart.

"Well, I have had it." In full on Marine mode, I 
said, "Now, listen up gentleman because I only intend 
to say this once.  I want more than I've gotten from 
both of you.  I deserve better that what I've gotten 
from both of you. And from now on, I'm not settling 
for anything less.  That means there are new rules.  
My rules. Mic you just stop. We're done so stop 
trying to convince me otherwise. And you, Harm, when 
figure out what 'yet' means, let me know. I'll 
listen. Until then, leave me alone." After taking a 
deep calming breath, I finished, "Any questions?? No. 
Good.  I think I'm done here." And I turned my back 
on both of them and went to collect my purse from the 
table.

"Harriet, Bud.  Goodnight."  

And I turned around and walked out.

+++
Same Time
Same Place
Different Table

She was surprised to see her there.  As she watched 
the scene unfold, She put faces with the names and 
watched the results of their time together over the 
last few weeks.  She did it.  Sarah actually did it.  
She laid it all out in the open for both men. Letting 
them know in no uncertain terms were they stood with 
her.

The dots were all in place for Sarah MacKenzie to get 
what she wanted and needed.  Question was, would she 
and her Commander be able to get beyond 'yet' and 
connect them.

The End....