Title: The Charade Author: Lisa Parker (mzgriffon@aol.com) Rating: PG Disclaimer: Don't own them...Don't want to own them...only having a little fun here Summary: Were Mic and Mac ever really getting married? Spoilers: Everything up to and including Retreat, Hell (why is there a comma there?) after that I sorta drift off into my own little world. Author's Note: This idea came to me as a way to get to the end of Season 6 without certain things happening and still keep Mac's character intact and avoid Brumby bashing, despite his reprehensible behavior and ethic slide into ambulance chasing. This story got delayed and neglected because of too much RL and sickness. Special thanks to Kim and Susan for the prodding and poking that kept this story alive. Extra special thanks to Michelle for helping me keep my Harm in line. He would have been a hysterical mess otherwise. FEBRUARY 15, 2000 1830 LOCAL TIME SYDNEY HILTON SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA Clay threw the operative dossiers on the bed in his hotel room. He turned and looked out to the harbor and took a sip of his bourbon. He was here to recruit the team for an operation that would take months to complete. He looked back at the service file pictures staring back at him. Damn, this could get ugly. But he had no other option. This pair was too perfect. They were an attractive couple. They had all the right connections in all the right places. And just enough shadows in all the right places to be equally attractive to the other side. Orders were already cut. They would be waiting when they returned from dinner, if they weren't already. The operatives would follow whatever orders were handed to them. They were both good officers. And that's exactly what he was afraid of. If they followed them, and he knew they would, there would be hell to pay after the debriefing. He picked up the phone and rang a room three floors below. "Yeah, it's me. Can we meet? I'll buy you a drink. Yeah, yeah, I know, but I want to talk to you about this." "Webb, this is not a good time. I don't feel much like socializing right now." "Are you Ok?" "Sure, just tired. Jet lag. I got your little present. You really shouldn't have. Are you sure you need me on this one?" "Yeah, I'm sure. If there was another option, believe me I would take it." "Can I at least..." "No, you can't." He cut off the request he knew was coming. "Well, give me tonight at least to deal with some things. I promise no telling tales. When the trial is over, we'll get started. But Webb, you owe me big time for this." "When this is over, I will personally see that you get anything you want." "Be careful, Tinman. You have no idea what I might ask for." ONE YEAR LATER FEBRUARY 27, 2001 1330 EST THE DOLLY MADISON INN ARLINGTON, VA The man glanced at his watch again. He was impatient for his lunch guests to arrive. This charade was ending soon. Too soon, if things kept going as they had. What started out as a simple charade to ensure the success of the joint missile installations and stop a hemorrhage of Western intelligence information from spilling into Beijing was quickly disintegrating in the morass of public acrimony and private anguish. Even he wasn't sure just how long he could let it continue. As a man who should have known better, he made the mistake of involving friends and he neglected to consider the friends of said friends. He rubbed his nose and felt the slight bump. He also vowed to buy some of those cheesy clip-on neckties, so there would not be any available rope with which to hang him if this went sour. He saw them walking in. His male guest had a hand at the small of the woman's back as they wove their way though the tables and the busy lunchtime crowd. They were a handsome couple and heads turned all over the restaurant. "Ok, we are here. Just what was so important that this had to be done today?" Said the woman in the patterned sienna colored dress as she slid into the chair next to her host. Her dark companion seemed to bear her wrath with little more than a shrug, but then he drove her here and probably suffered an earful in the car. "Back off, 'Xena'. We have a lot to cover and not enough time. Sit down; your lunch will be here soon. You know you really should get that hypo-glycemia thing checked at Bethesda," he chided in an effort to regain control of the situation and his operative. "Smile, luv. This is supposed to be a celebration, you know." Her companion was trying to lighten the mood, but one glance told him his lovely date was having no part of it. She kept her peace in an effort to move this meeting along. She had long since grown weary of the surprises that kept popping up. She should have known better than to allow herself to get involved with this. But she wasn't given a choice, she was given orders. She had planned to spend this rare afternoon off shopping, after a brief luncheon with her companion, not at this little confab to make sure his butt was covered with appropriate missile fire on the off chance the Chinese and the North Koreans decided to start the Far Eastern version of the Gulf War. "Alright then, let's get to the matter at hand. First, Admiral Taggert has finally made his move. We can now place him with his Korean collaborators and the Chinese agent we've had under surveillance. But instead of a trip Down Under for you two, he's coming to us. He'll be arriving in Washington next month, to take his new post as Special Assistant to the Australian Ambassador. All we need now is a chance to get all the evidence together and we can pick him up. "Now you are both known to Taggert and he has been informed of your willingness to assist him in any way he may need. We believe the exchange of information will occur here in Washington. I need you two to get to Taggert and get the information before he can turn it over. Once that is done, my people in Sydney and Seoul will round everyone else up while Admiral Taggert and I have a very long chat at Langley." "Just how did 'we' get known to Taggert? I thought he was to come to us after he was picked up," 'Xena' intoned impatiently. "Is this another surprise I should have been given more than two hours notice on?" The two men at the table looked at each other. She was never going to let them forget the evening last May when the charade started spiraling out of control. When, with exactly two hours notice, she was told to expect her 'date' for the ball. She thought she was meeting some anonymous James Bond type. But no, it was not to be that simple. No...instead her sometimes colleague, maybe lover, maybe more shows up spouting nonsense about wanting to be with her and in front of her always friends no less. Good Lord, that night ended any hope he had of ever making it into her bed permanently. And she told him so, even as she continued with this charade. "Never mind that, there's something else we have to cover today before I go," said the luncheon host. "You two need to stop the public arguments. You're beginning to attract attention from the very people we don't what attention from." Turning towards his male guest, he continued, "Stop baiting her in the office. If you want to stage a disagreement, take it outside or wait until you are both out in public." "But I thought we were supposed to attract attention and make me look bad," the guest replied. "Be that as it may, you're attracting the wrong kind of attention. I have two rather interesting messages in my office, neither of which I am looking forward to returning. I have managed not to lie to them so far and I would like to keep it that way. So straighten up or I'll be the one revoking your citizenship." The host took a deep calming breath. His female guest refused to meet his gaze and he could tell that she was growing tired of the game. He knew from the beginning that this was an iffy move, but the situation called for exactly the two people sitting across from him. He just hadn't counted on exactly how deeply this thing would affect her and he was beginning to feel very guilty about involving her. The charade already cost the couple their friendship. He didn't want it costing her anything more than that. "Look," he began wearily, "we don't have to continue this too much longer. If all goes well, everything will be back to normal soon and you can each go on with our lives. In the meantime, if anyone asks you've booked the military chapel at Washington Cathedral for May 26th. My office is working on the invitations as we speak. Oh, and speaking of invitations, here are yours for the Embassy reception welcoming our wayward Admiral to the States. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Secretary in an hour." MARCH 21, 2001 THREE WEEKS LATER 1230 EST JAG OPS "You wanted to see me, Sir?" Harm said as he walked into the Admiral office. "Yes, Commander. I have received an invitation to a reception at the Australian Embassy for tomorrow night." "Well, don't let them serve you any of that Vega mite. It's worse than my meatless meatloaf, according to some. Will that be all, Sir?" "Actually, no, Commander. You see your presence is requested, too. The invitation was for both of us." "But, Sir..." "Sorry, Harm, consider it a command performance. I'm not going to this shindig by myself. I hate them as much as you do. But Captain Howell... you do remember Captain Howell, don't you, Commander?" Harm's hand went to his jaw and he winced at the memory of the non-judicial punishment he received at the fists of Mic Brumby. "How could I possibly forget, Sir?" "Good. So get your mess dress ready and meet me at the Australian Embassy tomorrow night. One last thing, ask the Colonel if she can join us." "Sir?" "Well, why not? She is my Chief of Staff." "Yes, Sir." "Dismissed, Commander." Harm exited into the bullpen. He paused for a moment and thought that was quite possibly the strangest conversation he ever had with the Admiral. He went straight to Mac's office and knocked on her doorframe. "Hey, you got a second, Mac?" "Sure, Harm what is it?" she asked with a glowing smile. "If you don't have any plans for tomorrow night, the Admiral would like you to join us at an Embassy reception. And before you ask, as far as I know, Webb has nothing to do with this one," he responded with a smile of his own. Abruptly, and to Harm's surprise, her smile fell. "Sorry, Harm, but I can't go... with you." "Just as well, you know how boring those things can be," he replied. He noticed the immediate change in her expression, but as was their habit these days, he didn't call her on it. He just turned and walked back to his own office. As soon as his back was to her, Mac reached for the phone and dialed. THE NEXT EVENING 2017 EST THE AUSTRALIAN EMBASSY The couple watched Taggert from the bank of French doors that overlooked the gardens in the back of the Embassy ballroom. He moved effortless through the crowd. They noted to whom he spoke and to whom he did not speak. They had yet to determine whom Taggert's American contact was in this whole scheme or even if he had one. They were hoping that this party would at least reveal some possible suspects. "Quick, he's coming this way," she whispered behind her drink. "Commander, this is a pleasant surprise," Admiral Taggert greeted them affably. "I had no idea that you were here. I'm so pleased." "It is an honor that you remember me, Sir. May I introduce..." "No need, dear boy. I know who this lovely lady is. And I must say we are none too pleased that she has drawn you half a world away. You are missed, Commander." "Thank you, Admiral, but I know where I belong these days. What do you think of the States so far?" "Well, cold is the first thing that comes to mind. It is summer in Sydney right now," he laughed. "Why don't we get to together later and I'll tell you all about it? You won't mind, will you, my dear, if I steal him from you for a while later this evening?" "Of course not, Sir. I would never break up a reunion." "You are too kind, young lady. Commander, be sure to find me later," he said as he walked on to the next guests looking for his attention. 2200 EST THE AUSTRALIAN EMBASSY Admiral Chegwidden and Commander Rabb arrived at the party just late enough to still be fashionable. Both men hated the posturing and political machinations of these events. They just wanted to renew the acquaintance of their Australian counterpart, have a drink or two, and leave. Those plans came to an abrupt end when, upon entering the ballroom, they simultaneously spied Colonel Sarah Mackenzie across the ballroom---alone. "Commander, I thought you said she wasn't coming tonight?" the Admiral said as he turned to his junior officer. "Yes, Sir. That's what she said," Harm replied without taking his eyes off the vision across the room. That couldn't be the same black gown he thought she was wearing a few weeks ago in the office. "Commander? Commander?" Giving his head a shake, Harm turned back to Chegwidden only to realize that Captain Howell had joined them. "Pleasure to see you again, Sir. How long will you be in the United States?" "Only for a few weeks," Captain Howell replied. "Commander, why don't you go see the Colonel? The Captain and I will be at the bar." "Yes, Sir." "Your Commander seems rather distracted, Admiral," Captain Howell observed as Harm began making his way across the room. "Yes, he has been lately. Seems he fell on his head while I was on leave a while ago." "It wouldn't, by chance, have anything to do with that lovely creature he is speaking to now?" "Captain, I should inform you that that 'lovely creature' is my Chief of Staff and a Marine Colonel," AJ intoned rather harshly. "Besides, she's engaged to your Commander Brumby." "Sorry, Admiral. My apologies." "Forget it, Captain. Let's get that drink. And I'll fill you in on what we did with Kevin Lee." **** Harm walked across the room with purpose in his steps. What was she doing here? Dumb question, Rabb. She's engaged to an Australian in the RAN Reserves. He probably got an invitation too since his former CO was here. "Thought you had other plans, Colonel?" He said as he took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took a sip. Mac spun in obvious surprise. "Harm, what are you doing here?" "I just asked you that same question, Mac. Where's Brumby?" "Oh, he's speaking with an old friend at the bar." "So, why did you lie to me?" "I didn't lie to you," she replied indignantly. "I believe I said I couldn't come with you. Besides you never mentioned which Embassy." "Semantics, Counselor." "Perhaps." She was being coy and she almost didn't like herself for it. It was fun to bait him and she hadn't had much of a chance to do it recently. She reached for his hand. "Dance with me, Harm." He was so surprised by her appearance at the party he didn't realize the ballroom now hummed with the notes of an old song. He couldn't remember the words to the familiar tune. It didn't really matter. Mac asked him to dance. "You sure a brawling Australian won't come and claim his fiancée with an upper cut to my jaw?" "I'm sure," she smiled. "Come on, for old times." In a scene straight out of an Amanda Quick novel, he gave her a courtly bow and whirled her onto the dance floor. Mac, letting herself get lost in the moment, laughed at their antics. To an outside observer, they were probably having the most fun of anyone there. As one song ended and another began, Harm and Mac never stopped. He finally danced her out the French doors and into the cool night air. They stopped when they reached the balustrade that surrounded the terrace. Her eyes were shining in the moonlight as she looked up to meet his gaze. "That was nice," she said, breathlessly. "Nice? Nice isn't exactly the word I would have used. I haven't danced like that in I can't remember how long." "What word would you choose, Harm? Nice comes to mind since I am pretty sure there are no assassins waiting to take potshots at us." He was holding her so close their breath mingled. She leaned in just a fraction of an inch closer, before he stopped her. "This is wrong," he whispered. "Yes, it is," she sighed. She turned angrily out of his arms and walked back to the man waiting for her in the ballroom. For now, she thought. End Part ONE "Damn." He turned to look out over the garden, knowing in the back of his mind that what he was looking for was not out there, but had just walked away from him. Taking a cleansing breath of the night air before returning to the reception, Harm went in search of the Admiral. As far as he was concerned, he had fulfilled his obligation and was ready to take his leave. Walking back into the ballroom, he narrowly avoided a waiter carrying a tray of drinks. As he quickly sidestepped the waiter, he passed Admiral Taggert and Mic Brumby engrossed in conversation. Moving away from them to continue his search for Admiral Chegwidden, he overheard Taggert offer Mic some work. The idea of an Australian Admiral requiring the services of a civilian attorney struck him as strange and he filed the snippet of information away for later consideration---his main objective now was to make a quick exit. He quickly scanned the ballroom looking for the Admiral, when he caught sight of Mac or, rather the back of Mac. Even from a distance he could see that she was irritated and her source of irritation was one he could easily identify with---Clayton Webb. What exactly he was doing at this little shindig was a mystery in and of itself. Knowing his presence rarely bode well for the two of them, Harm managed to catch Webb's eye and with a cocked eyebrow conveyed his concern. He started to approach them, but Webb grabbed Mac's hand and led her out to the terrace. Harm shook his head in frustration as he tried to make his way back across the room, but it seemed all the guests were gathering in the ballroom for the official welcome toast for Admiral Taggert. The ensuing crowd cost him a few valuable minutes and by the time he reached the terrace, he found it empty. He was again left to stare off into the garden. Admiral Chegwidden placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him from his reverie. "Well, Commander, I think we have more than fulfilled our professional obligations tonight. Ready to get going?" "Yes, Sir," Harm responded absently. "Is there anything wrong, Commander?" "No...have you seen the Colonel?" Harm asked as they made their way back into ballroom and through the throng of guests. "Not since you danced your way out on to the terrace." There was no censure in the Admiral's voice, but he let his junior officer know that their disappearance had not gone unnoticed. Harm wisely decided not to pursue the matter anymore. He would find out what she and Webb were talking about in the morning. They retrieved their covers from the coat check and walked out to wait for the Admiral's driver to bring his car around. The silence was broken by the sound of Mac's voice. They both turned their attention to the nearby parking lot for private vehicles. Standing on opposite sides of the red corvette's doors were Mac and Brumby. They did not realize they had an audience. "What happened tonight is exactly why I hate these things..." "No one said you were going to enjoy it, Sarah. We all have to do things we don't like, even you. Tonight was just one of those things, so please spare me the complaints. " "Don't patronize me, Mic." "Dammit, I am not patronizing you and this really isn't the time or the place to have this conversation. Get in the car." The annoyance in Brumby's voice was unmistakable and for a minute, it looked as though Mac was going to defy him. She stared him down before opening the door, sitting down, and closing the door behind her with more force than necessary. Mic quickly followed suit. The engine immediately fired up and they sped off into the night. The Admiral and Harm watched Brumby and Mac's abrupt departure with interest. While Mac was debating getting into the car, the Admiral had laid a restraining hand on Harm's arm to keep him from saying anything. Now that they were gone, the Admiral turned to Harm and asked, "What do you make of that?" "I don't know, but I don't like it," Harm responded and then almost to himself he asked, "What does she see in him?" "Your guess is good as mine about that one, Commander, but I think it is time we found out." THE NEXT DAY 1030 EST JAG OPS Harm knocked on the doorframe to alert Mac that he was standing there. Her back was to him and she seemed lost in thought. "Mac, you ready? Are you sure we need to go to trial on this? Can't you get your client to take the plea bargain..." Mac turned to face him and he saw it. The shadow of purple under her left eye. He instantly went ballistic. "That's it. I've seen enough. How could you let him do that to you?" he shouted. "Him who? Do what?" she questioned. "That!!!" He pointed a shaking finger at her face. "Your eye. I'm getting the Admiral and then you are filing a police report. I'll see his ass back in Sydney before the week is out." Mac gave a small smile and shook her head. "Harm! Harm! It's not what you think." "Yeah, that's what all abused women say." "Harm, close the door and sit down. I will only say this once. Mic did not do this. If that's what you are getting at." She came around her desk and sat on the edge as he sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. "Oh, come on, Mac. All the signs are there. He's a classic abuser. He's possessive. He has no respect for your feelings. He loves to surprise you with things that are not so wonderful. Christ, he even argued with you in front of the Admiral and I. And we saw what happened last night when you were leaving the Embassy." "Harm, will you let me explain?" She smiled indulgently at him. "Sometimes there is a perfectly embarrassing reason for these kinds of bruises." She was chuckling now. Harm just sat there not buying her cavalier attitude. He knew what kind of home she grew up in. He knew that despite her Marine bearing and her professional success, she was not immune to reliving that life as an adult. "Harm, listen to me. Last night, when I was going to iron my uniform blouse, I ducked when I should have dodged." She was laughing at herself now recalling his infamous H and K incident when he accused her of ducking. "My favorite handyman stopped coming by almost two years ago and some things in my apartment have gone to pot. Well, that over-the-door ironing board I have finally gave up the ghost and clocked me good." "That a really good story, Mac. But I'm not buying it, " he said skeptically. "Yes, Harm, it's the truth. Would you like me to submit said broken ironing board to the court as evidence?" Mac paused and sobered. "I wouldn't...couldn't lie to you about something like this. Believe me if Mic Brumby ever raised a hand to me, you would have to stand in line to get a piece of him provided, of course, I left you anything more than a puddle to mop up." She smiled to reassure him, but Harm continued to eye her warily. Mac knew there was nothing more she could say to convince him, so she turned the conversation back to the case at hand. "Now, getting back to the subject, we are going to trial on Master Chief Saunders. And I am going to win, Harm. So why don't you go prepare your case and leave me to prepare mine?" Without waiting for answer, she pushed him out the door. She leaned against the closed door and put the heels of her hands to her eyes to stop the tears that threatened to fall. **** Despite allowing himself to be pushed out of her office, Harm wasn't willing to drop the subject. He crossed the bullpen and asked Tiner if he could see the Admiral. Getting the okay from the young Petty Officer, he knocked on his CO's door and received permission to enter. "Sir, can I have a minute?" he asked, veiling his impatience and concern in military protocol. "What can I do for you, Commander?" Harm hesitated a moment before answering, but his concern for Mac overrode his normal reticence about discussing personal matters. "Well, I'm a little concerned about the Colonel. Have you seen her today, Sir?" "No. Is she alright?" "Well, she says so, but I think the black eye she has speaks a little louder to me." "She has a black eye?" "Mac says the ironing board got her, but after what we saw last night, I'm not so sure. Did we ever get anything on Brumby besides his military record? I mean, what do we really know about him?" "Commander, the Colonel is a grown woman and a Marine. I think she can take care of herself. If she said he didn't do it, I would be inclined to believe her and let it go." "But, Admiral..." "You are not her keeper, Harm." AJ dismissed him with words and actions as he picked up another file from the stack on his desk. However, as soon as the door closed behind Harm's retreating figure, he reached for the phone and dialed a number he would deny knowing by heart. "I may not be her keeper either, but being a CO does give me some privileges...." he muttered to the ringing phone. When the line was answered, he said without waiting for a greeting, "We need to talk. Now. You haven't returned any of my other phone calls. It's about Mac." A sigh of resignation could be heard on the other end and then finally, "Alright, meet me at the Lincoln Memorial at 7:30 tonight." "Fine." **** Harm was a little disturbed by the Admiral's seemingly casual dismissal. As soon as he returned to his office, he reached for the phone and dialed a number he would deny knowing by heart. "I may not be her keeper either, but I'm still her friend..." he muttered to the ringing phone. When the line was answered, he said without waiting for a greeting, "We need to talk. Now. You haven't returned any of my other phone calls. It's about Mac." A sigh of resignation could be heard on the other end and then finally, "Alright, meet me at the Lincoln Memorial at 7:45 tonight." "Fine." ACROSS THE POTOMAC For the second time in as many minutes, he slammed the phone down and contemplated his own death---the death that would surely come at the hands of the two men he was meeting tonight. He vowed to himself never ever to work with friends again after this mission was completed. It was just too nerve-racking, not to mention dangerous to his nose and other parts of his person. MARCH 28, 2001 ONE WEEK LATER 0130 EST They met in an obscure back alley pub in Foggy Bottom. The request was simple: deliver the diskette from Point A to Point B. No questions asked and in return the courier would be well paid for his services and his service to his country. It would only be for a few months and the money was generous enough to be considered a boon for the struggling attorney, but not so generous as to make him suspicious. Well...at least that's what he let the Admiral think. However, that's not what the guy in the baseball cap in the back of the bar thought. What he thought did not fit in with what he knew, but when a two star pulls you off medical leave for a tailing duty, you really can't ask why. You just report whom you saw and what they were doing. **** After getting nothing useful from Webb and getting over their mutual chagrin that they both called the same man about the same woman, Harm and AJ agreed to take matters into their own hands and find out just what was going on. AJ pulled the Gunny back from New Mexico where he was recovering from his little expedition in the desert, but only for keeping an eye on Mic Brumby. Mac was Harm's own personal recon mission. After a week of after-hours excursions, the scary thing was that Mac didn't even seem to be aware she was being followed. When this was over, Harm was going to have a long talk with her about being conscious of one's space. In the meantime, he learned a number of things about her. He now knew who Jingo's vet was. He knew where she got her hair done. He also knew that six out of the last seven nights Mic had not stayed over. Now that was really strange. The wedding was just a few weeks away. You'd think a bride and groom would be rather inseparable at this point. But then, a lot of things were strange. Like the ferry ride...like Mic showing up so suddenly last spring...like the look that passed between him and Mac the night Kate left town this past winter... Of course, to him, nothing was stranger than the night on the Embassy terrace when, just for a moment, nothing else existed but her and what nearly happened. He had been reliving that moment every night in his dreams. On a good night, he and Mac actually kissed. On a bad night, Mic would come stalking into the dream and reclaim her with an upper cut to Harm's jaw just as he joked about with her. **** Mac pulled the car into the only parking space she could find and killed the engine. She sat there wondering, not for the first time or even the hundredth time, how this all got so crazy. Reluctantly, she got out and walked down the block to her destination. Hopefully, he would have something useful tonight and this mess could end. She entered the building and took the elevator to the right floor. He opened the door at once when she knocked. Thankfully, he didn't make the mistake of trying to kiss her. "Hello, Sarah. Thanks for coming over," he said as he moved to allow her entrance. "Well, make it quick. I still have a day job you know," she answered tartly and instantly regretted it. "I'm sorry. This whole thing has just been getting to me lately. I want it done and over with soon." "I know...I'm sorry, too. I just wish you could have a little more fun with me." "Mic.... don't go there. I made my desires clear from the beginning. I can play act in public just fine, but in private...did you get the disk?" "Yes, I have the disk," Mic began. "Good, give it to me. I'll get it to Webb and we are done." Mac interrupted enthusiastically. Mic placed a restraining hand on her arm as she reached for the disk. "Not so fast, Mac. It's a dummy. We have to assume it's a dummy disk This was a test. I'm sorry." Defeat and surprise was written all over Mac's face. "I know you want this over with, luv. But we can only go as fast as Taggert allows us to. If we are not patient and tip our hand, we will have wasted all this time. And as much as I love having you on my arm, I know you don't want to have wasted this time." Mac gave him a reassuring smile. For as annoying as he could be, he really did care about her. Sometimes she regretted that she couldn't return those feelings. The fantasy they were portraying only served to reinforce her desire for something more than Article 32's and enlisted fit reps. Her thoughts turned to Harm and the strange way he had been behaving lately. Hopefully when this was over she could try again with him. Most of what happened on the ferry that night was her fault. She ambushed him with her challenge and poorly worded declarations. Going into this assignment she really just wanted to know if he would be there at the end. She went about it so ineptly that he felt lost to her ever since. Maybe it was better this way. She couldn't quite see Harm as being supportive of this current endeavor. "Mac...Sarah, are you with me?" Mic said pulling her back to the present. "Yes, Mic. Sorry. Woolgathering." "Listen to me. This will all be over very soon. Another couple months. Tops." "I know. I just hate having to lie to everyone..." "Especially Rabb," Mic interjected sarcastically. "Don't go there, " Mac said sharply. " I gave you a chance." "I'm not, but I also know that you had to be ordered into this assignment, when you would willingly volunteer if it was Harm in my spot. And you certainly wouldn't have to play-act as his fiancé. So forgive me for being just a little frustrated right now." Mac withstood the force of his tirade because she knew the truth of it. It didn't stop her reflexive impulse to slap him. "Guess I deserved that, Colonel," Mic said rubbing his cheek. She hated that he could read her so well. She'd known him only a fraction of the time she'd known Harm. And, yet Mic could see and name what was in her heart, while Harm seemed to be clueless. "I think I'd better go, Commander. Call me when the real disk shows up," Mac called over her shoulder as she reached for her bag and made her way out the door. Mic's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Dammit, Rabb, when this is over you better be there." End Part TWO APRIL 12, 2001 2330 EST After two more exhausting weeks of tailing Mac after hours, Harm nearly wept with relief when he overheard her tell Harriet she was going home to leftovers, a bath and some old movie she hadn't seen in ages. He followed her home and shadowed her evening walk with Jingo. Declaring her secure for the night, Harm finally went home to his own bed around 1930 and promptly fell asleep. Mac, for her part, felt blissfully relaxed for the first time in months. Mic made five runs for Taggert in the last few weeks and all the disks held some of the information Clay so desperately needed to bring the Admiral down. This operation would be coming to an end soon. She was dozing in front of the TV when the phone rang. Reaching behind her to the end table, she answered. "MacKenzie." "Mac, so glad I caught you home." "Where else would I be, Clay?" "Never mind. Listen, I need you to meet me right away. I have a message for Mic and I can't find him tonight." Mac smiled at the agent's obvious impatience. "You know, Clay, he does have real clients. He's in New York tonight. Anything I can do?" "Yeah, meet me at the Tidal Basin in a half hour." "Clay..." "Half hour, Mac," And he hung up. **** Clay was worried. Really worried. She was supposed to meet him fifteen minutes ago and she was nowhere in sight. Nor was she answering the phone at home. He flat out panicked, when he called her cell and some kid answered. He took off up the jogging path he thought she would have used to get from the parking lot. About a hundred yards up, he heard a whimper and some scratching in the bushes. As he approached, Clay saw Jingo hovering close to his groggy and bleeding mistress. "Oh, my God! Mac!" "Clay," she whispered, " I'm gonna kick your ass. I got..." "Save it, Mac. Let's get you to the hospital." Clay didn't waste anytime. He immediately scooped her up and grabbed Jingo's leash. 1 HOUR LATER GWU ER AJ came barreling through the ER in full SEAL mode. Clay wasn't surprised when he found himself backed up against the wall by his shirt collar and the Admiral's angry breath in his face. He was however shocked when another face appeared before him and threw him into a nearby chair. "What did he do to her this time, Clay?" Harm growled. "Nothing, I swear. He never..." "Webb, why did Mac call you when she was in trouble?" AJ puzzled. "She didn't. I found her." Clay answered as he straightened his tie. "WHAT!?" came the incredulous response in stereo. "I asked Mac to meet me tonight. When she was late, I called her cell phone. Someone else answered. I got concerned and went looking for her. I found her not far from where we were supposed to meet bleeding and half-conscious. I just brought her here and called you, Admiral." "Why me?" "Mic is out of town," Clay answered. "Rabb, what are you doing here? "The Admiral called me." "Mr. Webb?" interrupted the nurse. "You can see her now." "Is she Ok?" Harm asked. "Yes, she's fine. Mostly just bumps and bruises. The doctor did have to stitch a small cut on her forehead, but there's no sign of a concussion," she replied. "Nurse, can we all go?" AJ asked. "I don't see why not." She looked them up and down, and found scowls replaced by sheepish contrition. They looked like three errant schoolboys. "You all seem to be behaving yourselves...now." As the trio entered the treatment room, Mac called to Clay from behind the drawn curtain. "Clay, the Admiral and Harm are never going to believe Mic didn't do this and Mic is not going to believe that this case wasn't involved either. I hope you'll back me up and tell them I really was mugged," she stated as she pushed the curtain aside. Looking up, at the tableau before her, she paled. "Dammit, Clay. Why'd you have to go and do that?" She pointed at the two men forming a barricade between her and the door. AJ and Harm stood with their arms crossed and eyebrows raised waiting for an explanation. "You know, Mac, I have been meaning to have a discussion with you about watching your back when you're out alone," Harm scolded. "And just what case would you be referring to, Colonel?" AJ added. "Special Agent Webb here will have to explain it to you, Sir. I'm under orders not to discuss this with anyone, except him and Commander Brumby," Mac answered a bit more tartly than would otherwise be acceptable. "I'll wait for you in the car, Clay. I want to check on Jingo." **** Harm wandered out to Clay's car about fifteen minutes later. They were probably the longest fifteen minutes of his life. Relationships lived and died in that time span. Weddings were planned and called off. And he actually smiled gleefully as he planned his erstwhile partner's punishment for the last sixteen months of torment. He found Mac giving Jingo a drink from an emesis basin scammed from a nurse on her way out of the ER. He squared his shoulders and plastered his best 'bad cop' scowl on his face. He might have pulled it off, if she hadn't looked so sad and tired. This was not how she wanted to spend the last year and he finally saw the strain wearing on her. "So how much did he tell you?" Mac asked without even looking up. She knew who it was by the sound of his footfalls across the blacktop. "Everything." "How's the Admiral taking all this?" "Like someone who just caught his teenage daughter necking under the bleachers." "That mad, uh?" "Well not at you. Webb and Brumby are a whole other matter." "And how mad are you?" "I don't know. This is pretty big secret you kept from me." "Harm...I'm sorry." "For what? You were following orders." "Yeah, but those orders kept taking me further and further away." "Away from what?" "From you. I let you believe things about me that were simply not true." "I thought you were in love." "Never...not with him." "I should have known better. I should have been paying closer attention." "Harm, you do realize that we didn't want you to? Clay and I both knew we were treading a fine line. If either you or the Admiral had figured it out... well, we couldn't let that happen. Most of the operation relied on Mic's and my credibility being questionable. Mic had to go from Embassy Row attorney to cocktail party joke, in order to make this work. We had to look corruptible. Men like Taggert don't use the darlings of the military to do their dirty work." For a moment, they regarded each other in the shadows of the parking lot lights. Harm found he couldn't keep scowling. He was too relieved that the last sixteen months were all an act on her part. At least, he thought it was. Clay was pretty vague about that part. All Harm wanted to do was...what? Kick her six for making him worry constantly. Kiss her because she really wasn't wearing Brumby's ring. What the hell he thought. This situation can't possibly get any crazier; he might as well get his licks in while he could. Pulling her up from the curb she was sitting on, Harm embraced Mac loosely. "This is not the location I thought I'd get a chance to do this. And it's no Embassy terrace. But didn't I tell you once that location doesn't change who we are?" "Harm?" She wasn't fighting the embrace, but she was a bit confused by his actions. "And frankly, hesitation can kill you if you are a Tomcat pilot," Harm whispered as pulled her in closer. "What's happening here?" "What's happening is you and I are having the discussion I think we were supposed to have on that ferry." "What about Renee?" She still wasn't fighting. "What about her?" "She's your girlfriend." "Correction. Was my girlfriend. Since Christmas, she's been flying back and forth from Minnesota. Her dad has been very ill, and she was needed to help out is the family business... and apparently, she's renewed a friendship with an old flame." "Ouch," Mac said, smiling at what appeared to be her own good fortune. "Oh, I don't know about that. He's a mortician." "A what?!" "An undertaker." "So when did all this happen?" "She called me last week and said she wouldn't be back to DC, because her family needed her more than I did." "I'm sorry, Harm." "Don't be. I didn't say anything because my ego was a bit bruised, but I was kinda glad it was over. Now I don't have to stop myself from doing this." And he pulled her in just a little closer. "Back to the topic at hand. What was it you really wanted to tell me that night?" Mac took a deep breath. This night was getting crazier and crazier. But she felt like it was right to come clean about everything, since the man in front of her was making his intentions rather clear. She broke away from him to think clearly. "I wanted...," she hesitated trying to find the right words, " to tell you that Clay needed me for an operation that was going to get very personal and would go on for an unknown duration and that Mic was involved." "No, no. I distinctly remember something about waiting and how long we were going to do it." "Look, Harm. I ambushed you that night. You and I were finally getting our rhythm back and I wanted more than that. I thought we had more than that. Then Clay invaded my personal life with orders and I couldn't tell you anything. I wanted something to hold on to for the duration." "Something like this?" Harm pulled her back into his arms and kissed her gently near the corner of her mouth. "Oh, God. Yes," she whispered turning her head just so and their lips met for soft kiss. Just then Jingo gave a small bark, and they jumped apart. In the distance they saw Clay approach. "Come on, Mac, let's get you home," Harm said. "You have credit cards to cancel and a cell phone to replace. We'll finish this later." "What about Webb and the Admiral?" "Oh, they are coming too. You and Webb aren't getting off the hook that easily." LATER MAC'S APARTMENT Leaving her overprotective entourage in the living room, Mac went into her bedroom to start the tedious, but necessary task of canceling her credit cards. As she rummaged through her nightstand drawer for her in-case-of-an-emergency list of important numbers, she came across a neatly wrapped package she had made herself forget about since that fateful night in Sydney when her life had been turned upside down. Momentarily forgetting about the mugging and all she needed to do, she sat down on the edge of her bed and slowly picked up the package. Idly smoothing the red ribbon tied around the small box, she allowed herself to reflect back on all that could have been if the small package had actually made it into the hands of its intended owner. While Mac lost herself in the what-if's of her life, the men in her living room were intently focused on the present. "You know, Webb, I don't like it when you use my people on your missions. I like it even less when you start involving their personal lives." AJ was on a roll and had been since leaving the hospital. "For the record, AJ, she didn't like it either. But the orders came from so high up the chain of command there was nothing I could do. She wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you. Hell, I'm even sure Brumby would have told you." "How's this going to play out now, Clay?" Harm asked. He wanted this operation done and Brumby gone as quickly as possible. "Well, you two are going to have to back off and let her finish. We have reached a crucial point and things are going to start moving very fast from here. That's what I was trying to reach Brumby about." Webb's voice rose as he tried to reason with the Admiral and Harm. The "discussion" in her living room reminded Mac of all that needed to be done. Taking the small box and slipping it into one of her other purses, she silently vowed to herself that the gift would not again be buried beneath half-read books, half-done to-do lists, and paleontology magazines. When the time was right, she would give the gift and cross one of the what-if's from her list. Her decision made she went into the living room to referee the impromptu sparring match between Webb and the Admiral. There had been enough trips to the emergency room for one night---no noses would be broken in her apartment. Smiling at the thought, she went back into the living room and as she sat down on the arm of the couch closest to Harm, she asked, "Clay, what was the message you wanted to get to Mic?" "Hey, Marine. You need an ice pack?" Harm asked softly as he gently took her hand. "No, I'm fine," she answered with a pat on their joined hands. Clay looked around the room and other than a fuming Admiral, things were looking up and he was glad he actually had something good to say. For once, a mission took an unexpected turn and it was going to work in his favor rather than against him. "The Chinese operative rolled. He gave up all the information he had and where he got it. The Koreans aren't happy and Taggert's days are numbered. After the next drop, we're going to pick him up. As far as we can tell, Taggert is unaware of this turn of events, but who knows with that old bastard. Tell Mic to be careful. We're going to put a tail on both of you for the rest of the operation." "Mic will be back tomorrow. I mean today. I actually have to pick him up at 0830. I'll tell him. Now thank you all for coming, gentlemen, but I have some calls to make and then this Marine would like to get some sleep. So goodnight." "Colonel, why don't you take tomorrow to recover?" "Can't, Admiral. The Commander and I are supposed to be in front of Admiral Morris at 1000 about the Getty court martial. The Admiral has already granted us several continuances and this appearance is do or die. He'll throw it out if we are not there. I'll be fine." "Mac, I can handle this one on my own." "Actually, Harm, you can't. I'm first chair and it will be my six Morris is gunning for." AJ and Webb were already half out the door. Harm looked from them back to Mac. He was reluctant to leave her now that he knew the truth. But, she turned him around and began pushing him toward the door, too. Just as he was about to leave, she stopped him with a gentle tug on his sleeve. Harm's height hid her actions from the others and she leaned in and pressed her cheek to his back. Then without saying a word, Mac released him and gently pushed him out the door. Love you, too, Mac, he thought as he followed the others down the hall. End Part THREE THE NEXT DAY 1335 JAG OPS COURTYARD "So you and the Admiral were tailing me and Mic for the last few weeks, huh?" Mac asked as they sat down for lunch in the warm sunshine of the courtyard. She wasn't sure how she felt about being under the watchful eye of Harmon Rabb without knowing it. Part of her felt a little stupid for not realizing it, and part of her felt well cared for and protected. "Mac, after the ironing board thing we didn't know what to believe. You just didn't seem like you were happy and we were worried. So Gunny took Mic and I followed you." "Learn any of my deep dark secrets?" she teased. "Well, if paraffin pedicures are a secret, I guess that one's safe with me," he teased back. She threw her napkin at him and after they shared a chuckle, Mac grew quiet and focused on eating her lunch. "Mac, you look beat. Why don't you call it a day? Go home and rest," Harm pleaded as he worked on his salad. They finished the Getty court martial with another one in the win column. And the rest of the week was looking more and more like paperwork catch-up. "Harm, I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine. I've gotten by on less sleep than last night for a long time now. Besides, Gunny and Mic may call. And I'd rather be here than at home when this goes down." She placed her hand over his and gave it a squeeze. "When this is all done, I'll take some leave." Seeing his eyebrow cock in skepticism, she questioned, "We'll take some leave?" "I like the way you think, Colonel," he smiled affectionately. "Harm?" "Don't hesitate on me now, Mac. It would kill me if you did." Then, letting the matter drop for now and knowing that they would come back to it, he asked, "So, how did Mic take what happened last night?" "He's upset. Not about you and the Admiral finding out, but about Clay calling me. He's really not a bad guy, Harm. But he'll be happy to return to Australia. As important as this mission is, his life has been on hold, too. He'll probably go home to a promotion and any assignment he wants." "And you? What were you supposed to get out of all this?" "Harm, I don't expect to get anything out of it. I am just going to do my job and hope that I will get my life back quickly. Clay did say I could have anything I wanted when I was done, but I'm not taking him seriously. I'll think about that when this is all done. I have too much to do in the meantime to make this charade work." "Like what?" he asked. "Like you might want to talk to the Admiral about letting Harriet be my shadow, not that I need one, for my next assignment." "Why would I let Harriet do that? What is this assignment?" "Harm, I'm not getting married in my dress blues. I have to get a dress, and I really don't see you being terribly comfortable waiting around Maison Amour while I try on wedding gowns." "No, I don't suppose I would be," Harm guffawed. Then he asked in a serious tone, "But why do you need to do that now? The wedding's off and Taggert's going to be picked up any day now." "That all may be true, but Clay and Mic agreed, it's best to just keep to the original plan and wait him out." "Let me talk to the Admiral and see what we can arrange. I assume you will want to take Harriet regardless?" Mac nodded in the affirmative at his suggestion, and he was puzzled by her ready agreement to these intrusions into her life and the mission. "Mac, why aren't you fighting us on this? I would have expected you to drop kick my butt, at least, into the next century." "Harm, do you realize how hard this secret was to keep? There were many times I drove to your place or picked up the phone to call the Admiral to let you all know that Mic Brumby was not my idea. I'm just glad I don't have to lie to all of you anymore." "Are you going to tell Bud and Harriet?" "Yes, they have a right to know. I think all this has puzzled them, too. Besides Mic and I need them to play the part of best man and matron of honor." "Well, let's go break the news and then you are going home. The Admiral and I will work out the dress detail with Clay and let you know," Harm said as they picked up the trash from their lunch. With a hand at the small of her back, he ushered her back into the building. SATURDAY 1123 EST When Harriet and Bud found out what was really going on, they were more than relieved and showed it. And when approached about the wedding dress, Harriet had some suggestions that shocked everyone. After considering all the options and with a little subordinate cajoling on Harriet's part, her plan was considered to be the best. And that is why AJ Chegwidden, Navy Seal and Vietnam veteran, found himself sitting on a pale pink Louie the 14th chair, sipping his third cup of coffee from a china teacup on the following Saturday morning. He had to admit Harriet's plan was a good one. He could play father of the bride a little less suspiously than the others "Sir, are you ready out there?" Harriet called from behind the curtain separating the dressing area from the rest of the salon. "Hell, yes, I'm ready," he muttered. He may have gone along with this plan, but he certainly wasn't willing to admit to being happy about it. "What was that, Sir?" Harriet said walked out and took the chair next to his. "I think we found the perfect one for her." "I hope so. We have been here for three hours. She has to have tried on everything in the store." He squirmed in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position for his long legs. As he got settled, Mac walked out in a sleek white lace gown. AJ's mouth went dry. He may have been playing 'father' of the bride, but to him she was the daughter of his heart. "So what do you think, sir?" she asked shyly. Somehow choosing a wedding gown, with your commanding officer, for a wedding that probably wasn't going to happen wasn't really her idea of a wonderful day. But she settled on this one and just wanted to be sure she hadn't made a ridiculous choice. From the hard swallow she saw the Admiral take, she knew she was on to something. "Well, Mac, I think...I think you look beautiful," he said with all honesty. "And you, Harriet?" "Uh....Colonel, I thought you were going to chose the..." Harriet, confused by her choice and inspired by the revelations of the week, took immediate control of the situation. She got up, grabbed Mac by the elbow and hustled her back behind the curtain. "Harriet?! What is going on?" "Ma'am that is not the dress you are wearing to your wedding." Harriet stated emphatically as she plowed through their other choices on the rack. She stopped at a dress she had seen Mac try on earlier in the morning. She pulled it off the rack and held it up to Mac. "This is the one that brought you to tears. And everyone knows a bride wears the dress that makes her cry." "But, Harriet, I was going to save that one for....well, someday. I'm not buying that one to waste on Mic." Harriet looked deflated and suddenly embarrassed. "Oh, right." "Harriet, while it has appeared otherwise for the last year or so, I do know what I am doing. Clay's Agency credit card is paying for the one I'm wearing and my brand new shiny AMEX is paying for the one that makes me cry." Mac said as she put her arm around her friend. "Now, Lieutenant, this is our secret. I wouldn't want it to get around that this Marine Colonel has a wedding gown in the back of her closet just waiting for the right guy to ask." SATURDAY, MAY 12, 2001 2215 EST A WEEK BEFORE THE "WEDDING" MIC'S APARTMENT "Bloody hell," Mic exclaimed when he found a manila envelope under his door. He had just dropped Mac off at home after another of their now rare public dates. During the month since the mugging, she had chosen to spend more and more of her off time at home alone or with Rabb working on cases. At least that's what they told him, he wasn't so sure. He really didn't care either. He would be gone shortly and Mac deserved to get on with her life. Taggert had been recalled to Sydney for a conference and wasn't due back for two days. So for them, as well as everyone now working on the mission, it was like a mini vacation. The only reason Mac even agreed to see him tonight was to attend a dinner with the Embassy staff scheduled a few weeks earlier. Knowing that unmarked manila envelopes left under the door rarely brought good news; Mic carefully opened the clasp and let the contents spill out on to the coffee table. He was shocked to see that Mac's mugging may not have been the random crime of opportunity it seemed. There before him was a record of her assault frame by frame. As he reached the bottom of the stack of grainy black and white photos, he knew they were all in trouble. He cursed again and reached for the phone. SAME NIGHT 2337 EST HARM'S APARTMENT "Well, if he is questioning her loyalty to you, you know damn well he's questioning your loyalty to him," Clay said. "We are going to have to just pick him up." "But we don't have enough evidence and we don't know Taggert took these," Mic countered as he threw the pictures down on the table. "It's just going to have to be enough," Clay argued. "I am not risking my friends anymore." The two men were standing nose to nose. Harm came out of the kitchen at that point and pulled the others apart. "Whoa, whoa...the bell has rung... separate corners, gentlemen." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Look, Mic. It is certainly possible that Taggert took the pictures or had them taken. As far as I'm concerned, and believe me I am very, very concerned, Mac is in danger and the only way to stop that is to get this guy and get him now." "He won't be back in the States for a couple more days. What exactly do you propose we do?" Mic was worried about Mac, too. But unlike Harm, this was his mission and his career. His country was the one with secrets at stake and his reputation was on the line, too. They had to get Taggert with the information on him. Anything less at this point was not going to cut it. The three men eyed each other warily waiting to see who would give in first "Well for starters, Rabb you are going to have to back off," Clay finally said. "These photos are damning to the whole operation. One, I might remind you, was going just fine until now. Let Mic and Mac continue as they have. Maybe even heat things up a bit so that whoever is looking can see they are, in fact, what they appear." Clay was adamant. "The Admiral is hosting a party for Mac and Mic in a few days. Taggert's already on the guest list. Let's keep this between the three of us in the meantime." "Webb, are you out of your mind? We have to tell the Admiral and Mac about this. They should know that Taggert could be more dangerous than we thought," Harm argued. "Rabb, if we tell the Admiral about this, he will pull this plug so fast it would make your head spin. The only reason he's allowed this to continue is I gave him every assurance of Mac's safety. The other reason is sitting on the table." Clay went over to the table and picked up the photos taken in the parking lot. "If he saw these pictures, he would be forced to do something official. And that would blow the whole operation and maybe even your careers. And I think how you proceed on that front should be up to you." "It's your operation, Clay. What do you propose we do?" Mic reentered the conversation at this point. "With so little time left, I stand on the original plan. Harm, you've waited this long. Five or six more days won't kill you. Mic, from now on you are on Mac twenty-four/seven. Let her continue the role as the adoring bride to be. Make sure you arrange not to take any more deliveries from Taggert until the party. If he brings it with him that night, we have him dead to rights." "Hey," Harm interjected, "what am I supposed to do? I do still have to work with her everyday til then." "Oh, I'm sure I can come up with something to keep you busy. Just stay away from her." MONDAY 1312 EST JAG OPS Slowly over the course of the last month, since he found out that she really wasn't going to marry Mic Brumby, Mac and Harm had reestablished the close relationship they enjoyed before he went off to fly again. There was a lot of ground to cover and they had discussed and teased and bantered their way through most of it. The case was almost over. Even though Mav hadn't heard from Clay in several days, she assumed they would be arresting Taggert at the party. Then they could get on with their lives. It finally seemed like it was their time. Mic was on his way out quickly. Renee was history. It still made her smile to think of the Video Princess with a Mortician. That same smile was on her lips when she entered the bullpen and made her way to Harm's office. She hadn't heard from him all weekend and was looking forward to having lunch with him to catch up on what he had been so busy doing that he didn't even call. Knocking lightly on the door, she pushed open the partially opened door. "Ready for lunch, Commander?" she asked as she eased her way into the chair in front of his desk. "Not today, Colonel," Harm replied formally. "Oh, but I thought..." Mac queried with a tilt of her head. "Not today, Mac," he stated even more firmly. "Well, then how about bringing the Jensen file with you tonight and I'll call for Indian food?" "Sorry, that's not going to be possible." He tried to look her straight in the eye as he broke her heart again. He failed miserably and turned his attention to the files on his desk in front of him. He quickly stuffed them into his briefcase and brushed past her on his way out of his office "Harm, are you OK?" "Yeah, Mac. I'm fine. I just have other things to do, and I'm late for a meeting." "Well, I'll call you later." She promised in a soft voice. He stopped and looked back at her. "Yeah, sure." Mac stared at his broad back as he crossed the bullpen and turned into the hall toward the elevator. A tiny tendril of hurt speared her heart. "That was odd," she murmured to herself. Shake it off, MacKenzie. He probably just has a lot of his mind. He had way too much on his mind and his behavior was inexcusable. Harm punched the elevator button with frustration. When she came and asked him to lunch it took him by surprise and he didn't know how to react. He was told explicitly to stay away from her when all he really wanted to do was to wrap her in his arms and never let go. He had a bad feeling in his gut about the party and Taggert's role. The creep was having Mac followed. What if he took a notion to do more? By evening, Harm's mood simmered from anger and frustration to despair. Mac called several times during the day and he continued to let voicemail get all the calls. If the past was any indication, Mac was probably thinking this was all her fault. And he hated that. The night she was mugged was a turning point for him. He could finally let go for her and now he was bottling it all up again for her. The ringing phone interrupted his morose introspection. He stared at the red blinking light as she left her message asking him to call her when he got in. It felt like time was ticking by with each red flash. He shook his head in disgust with himself, with all the time he wasted with her and without her. He only hoped that when this was all over, it would be their time, with nothing to separate them. TUESDAY MORNING 0845 JAG OPS "Tiner, have you seen Commander Rabb? He's usually here by now," Mac queried as she checked the morning action reports. "No, Ma'am. But he did call earlier and speak with the Admiral." Mac looked over her shoulder at the closed office door. "Can I see him?" "He said you'd probably ask." Tiner smiled back. "Go right in." Mac signed off on the reports and handed them back to the petty officer, then turned and lightly knocked on the door. "Enter," came the booming response. "Good morning, Sir. Do you know where Commander Rabb is?" she asked. "What do you mean? I thought this was your week to watch him...or is he watching you these days?" AJ responded in uncharacteristic humor. Mac gave him a quizzical look. "Sir?" "Relax, Mac. Harm has been pulled from regular duty for the duration of your assignment," he chuckled. "Don't ask me what. Seems I don't have a need to know. I got a call from Webb last night and one from Rabb this morning. Basically, there had been a slight change in the game plan. I'm sure things are fine, but watch your back." "Yeah, sure, Sir." Mac turned and left his office without waiting to be dismissed. She was still hurt by Harm's rejection the night before and concerned about his disappearing act. She made her way across the bullpen with a sense of determination that no one dared cross. Once inside, she picked up the phone and dialed Webb. "This is what you call watching my back?" she questioned as soon as he answered. She didn't even bother with polite greetings. "Well, Good morning to you, too. I guess someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today?" Webb was cringing on the other end. He knew she would call. He just wasn't prepared for her full-on attack. "Your priority this week is Mic and Taggert, not Harm. He's fine. I just need him for something else this week. I have you covered. Concentrate on the assignment and it will be over before you know it. Next week, you can do what you want with whomever you want. You can even have Harm in a hot tub for all I care." "Webb, not even you could pull that one off." And she hung up on him. THURSDAY MAY 17, 2001 1930 EST THE DOLLY MADISON INN ARLINGTON VA Mic escorted his blushing bride into the private dining room of the quaint inn, just as he had several months earlier. Only this time she actually looked happy to be there. This was the night she had waited for. The assignment was finally coming to a close. Clay had briefed them earlier on the surveillance he set up in the room and who else among the guests and staff would be acting as backup in case Taggert made a run for it. Unlike the previous drops where Mic had just worn a wire, Clay wanted to get this exchange in living color. So there were cameras and microphones hidden all over the room; in the buffet centerpiece of daisies and roses, under the candles glowing at the small cocktail tables scattered about the room and in the boutonniere and corsage she and Mic wore to complete the image they had sacrificed over a year to create and maintain. Mic gave up trying to pin her flowers to her dress earlier when he picked her up. She really couldn't blame him. The backless cream and red flowered dress with its plunging neckline didn't really give him much in the way of discreet space to work with. He finally gave up and handed it to her to put on herself. The room was redolent with the scent of spring flowers coming in from the tall open windows that over looked the courtyard below. Between Harriet and Clay it was difficult to tell that the room was set up to catch a spy. It seemed the perfect romantic setting for a wedding celebration. Mac mingled with her guests and hoped no one was aware that she seemed to be scanning the room for someone who hadn't yet made an appearance. She was looking for Harm. It had been several days since she heard from or seen him and, despite assurances from both Mic and Clay, she felt that perhaps he had bailed on her. Maybe he wasn't as willing to take things to the next level as she thought. Maybe he wasn't waiting eagerly for Mic to be out of the picture. Maybe he didn't really care. "Snap to, Colonel. No daydreaming on the job," AJ spoke as he snuck up on her blind side. Mac visibly jumped as he offered her a glass of ginger ale. "Sorry, Admiral. I was just checking to make sure everyone was here." Taking the proffered goblet, she took a sip all the while scanning the room over the rim. "He's not here, Mac. I'm sorry." AJ knew who she was looking for. He could see the disappointment in her eyes and his heart was breaking for her. "Yeah, well, he needs me to watch his back all the time. I guess it finally sunk in that I don't need him watching mine," she said ruefully. "Oh, heads up. There's Taggert now," AJ said urgently as he spotted the Australian who was actually as disreputable as he once believed Brumby to be. "You better find Mic and get this show on the road." Mac set her glass on the nearest table and made her way through the crush of guests in the room. She finally spotted Mic near the service entrance door behind the buffet table. Before she could reach him, Taggert caught up with him and both men were through the door. Mac attempted to follow only to get held up by well-wishers who had no idea there really wouldn't be a wedding in two days time. **** "So glad you made it back in time to attend tonight, Sir," Mic said amiably to Taggert as they made their way out of the service corridor and into the foyer outside the dining room. "Wouldn't have missed it for the world, young man. You are very lucky to have captured the heart of such a lovely woman as Colonel MacKenzie," Taggert replied. There was something in his tone that immediately put Mic on alert. Taggert had never mentioned Mac in any of their previous dealings. He wished he knew exactly were Mac was at this moment. Taggert seemed unaware of Mic's concern and lead him to another door next to the dining room. "Let's go in here. I have one last delivery for you to make before the wedding," Taggert said as he directed Mic through the door he pushed open with the flat of his hand. Mic entered the room and stopped for a brief moment. He smiled at the sight before him. Monitors and tape machines hummed and clicked. The techs in the room looked up at the intruders with shock. Taggert turned, as he realized he bumbled into the surveillance room, to escape. A six foot four wall of Naval lawyer stopped him, but unfortunately for Harm, the Admiral had more momentum. Harm was sent crashing into the doorframe. **** Mac finally made her way out of the dining room through the main doors. AJ, having been alerted by one of the waiters that there was a scuffle in the foyer, was right behind her. They stopped as they arrived at the surveillance room. Taggert was in the custody of two beefy waiters with impressive side arms. Clay was clearing onlookers and generally looking pleased with himself. "Clay, where's Mic?" Mac called as she wound her way through the guests and agents. Clay just pointed to the room and followed Taggert down the stairs and out of sight. Mac pushed open the door just enough to hear a rather interesting conversation. She looked down to see both Mic and Harm on the floor. "Brumby, tell me again why I'm helping you," Harm said as he rubbed a spot on the back of his head. He was still leaning against the wall where he fell. Mic was crouched in front of him handing him a makeshift ice pack in a towel. "Because you're in love with Mac and Mac is in love with you and you want me back in Australia as quickly as possible." "Oh, yeah...right." Harm grinned. "You are getting an MRI this time, Mate. I think your noggin's finally taken one too many hits. Can you get up now?" Mic grabbed Harm's arm and pulled him to his feet. "I don't want Webb to get all the slaps on the back now that Taggert is finally in custody. And you still need to get out there and get the girl." AJ tapped Mac on the shoulder and led her away from the door before the men realized she was there. She blushed vividly as she allowed herself to be led away. He put his arm around her shoulder and asked, "So exactly how much leave time do you want now that this is all over?" "Let's go let the other guests know the party's over, Sir," Mac leaned her head on his shoulder. "The faster we get Webb's debriefing over the faster I can start some of that leave." End Part FOUR EPILOGUE MAY 20, 2001 1842 EST MAC'S APT. After an extensive debriefing by Australian and American counter intelligence, Mac was given all the leave she requested. She helped Mic pack for his return to Sydney and saw him off at the airport. It was an exhausting weekend during which she only saw Harm for brief moments and never in private. She hoped that with Mic gone and the assignment over life could now reset itself and their relationship would progress the way it seemed to after her 'mugging.' She had to laugh at herself. During the long sessions with Webb and his cohorts, it was finally revealed that her attack was, in fact, part of the case. Taggert was suspicious of her, not Mic, and wanted to see if she was taking the disks from Mic and turning them over to the CIA. Thankfully, that night she had nothing on her, otherwise she would probably be dead now. A knock at the door startled her out of her contemplation. Harm left her a cryptic message to pack a bag and be waiting at 1900. She prepared as he asked and included a surprise of her own. Mac answered the door and stopped in shock. "Webb? What are you doing here? Where's Harm?" "Stop asking so many questions. Just get your bag and get in the car," he said gruffly all the while keeping a smile on his lips. **** They had been driving silently for over an hour and the sun had snuck behind the mountains as they drove south into Virginia. "Webb, are you going to tell me where you're taking me? Does Harm know what you are doing?" Mac finally asked. Clay just looked at her and smiled. Mac didn't think she'd ever seen him smile this much. He finally pulled off the main road onto a long drive with trees and horse corrals on both sides. Clay drove past what appeared to be a plantation house and toward some smaller outbuildings Mac could see in the distance. He finally stopped the car in front of a log cabin that was farther away from the main house than all the others. It was a surrounded by magnolia trees on both sides and the wide front porch was lit with two hurricane lamps on either side of the door. Clay got out and opened the truck to retrieve her bag. Mac got out of the car and just stared at him. Then she stared at the house and back at him. He handed her a key and her bag and got back in the car and waved out the window as he drove off into the night. Mac stared after him until she could no longer see his taillights. She turned and walked up the stairs to the door. Using the key, Mac opened the door and gasped. Lining the center hallway were dozens of small white votive candles leading to an open set of French doors on the other side of the room. She could hear the rush of the river in the distance and feel the late spring breeze through the door. She approached the deck outside of the doors and saw more candles. "Hey, Marine. Get out here the water is getting cold." "Oh, my God," she whispered. Mac peered through the open doors and there sitting in the silent hot tub was Harmon Rabb. She quickly turned back into the house and found a small powder room off the main living area in which to change. Harm wondered if he read her wrong, and quickly jumped out of the water and ran after her. "Mac, I'm sorry." Mac came out of the powder room dressed in a yellow bikini and leaned against the door jamb. "You didn't really think I was getting into that with my clothes on, did you, Navy?" She smiled at him from across the candle lit room. "Go on, I'll be right out." Harm turned and went back out to the deck and Mac grabbed the box with the red ribbon on it and pulled a towel over her hand. She followed him out and got into the tub with him. "Hey, Mac," Harm said as he handed her a flute filled with ginger ale. "Hey, Harm," Mac whispered back as she clicked her glass to his. "Mic get off ok?" "Yes." She laughed. "You never liked him." "No, I guess I didn't, but I did get the girl, didn't I?" "Yes, Harm. You got the girl," she said as she leaned over his shoulder to retrieve the box under her towel. Harm swallowed hard as she slid back down into the now churning water a little closer to him than she was when she first got in. "Happy Valentine's Day, Harm," she said as she handed him the box. "Valentine's Day? Mac, it's May." "I know, but this is something I have been holding onto for a long time." Realization dawned on him. "The ferry," Harm said. It wasn't a question. He remembered. This whole charade began on a ferry in Sydney Harbor around Valentine's Day over a year ago. "I wanted to give this to you that night, but Webb kinda messed up my plans." "Kinda? More like shot your life to hell." Mac put a gentle finger to his lips. "Shhh. It's over now and we're here. Go ahead, open it." Harm untied the red ribbon and left it drifting in the water. He opened the box and gave Mac a questioning look. He reached in and pulled the sterling silver Marine Eagle, Globe and Anchor out of the box. "It's beautiful, but what does it mean?" "I did a lot of thinking while you were away on the Henry and I came to a lot of realizations about myself and about you. Some of it got really messed up right after you came back, but by the time we got to Australia, I...we were back on track and I wanted to tell you exactly what I felt and this was the only way I could think of. See?" Mac pointed to the medallion in his hand. Harm pulled her into his arms so her back was to his chest. "No, show me." Mac leaned back and held it up to the moonlight and pointed to each symbol in turn and told him what had been in her heart for a very long time. "You are my Anchor when I am confused and scared, you make my World a much happier place, and when I am with you I feel I can soar with Eagles. I love you, Harm." She turned slightly and smiled at him. "I love you, too, Sarah," Harm whispered his lips just a hair's breadth from hers. A cell phone rang at the side of the tub. "Damn." They said in stereo. Harm reached for the phone and turned it on. "Rabb." "I don't want to talk to you. Put Mac on the phone." Harm held the phone out to her. "It's for you." "This is Colonel Mackenzie." "I told you you could have anything you wanted. Be happy, Mac, and thanks." And the line went dead. Mac stared at the phone and began to laugh. "Who was that?" Harm asked as he took the phone from her. He turned it off, pulled off the battery and threw both pieces into the surrounding darkness. Mac put her arms over his shoulders. With her hands on the back of his head, she drew him down until their lips barely met. "I think the Tinman just became Glenda the Good Witch." THE END