Title: Under the Stars II: Family Ties
Author: StarTrails
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Anything through Critical Condition is fair game.
Summary: A sequel to Under the Stars.  The closeness that developed between 
Harm and Mac grows into something more.  Meanwhile, the Admiral faces a 
personal tragedy that rallies together the JAG family.
Disclaimer: Everyone knows I don't own JAG and am not making a cent from 
this story. (Unfortunately, on both counts! ;-))
Feedback: I love feedback!  Send to StarTrails@hotmail.com
Author’s Notes: Special thanks to Benedetta for her info on Italian 
funerals, and to everyone who stayed with the first part of this story.  For 
the purpose of this story, AJ’s ex-wife, Marcella, never remarried.  Also, 
this story involves a terrorist attack.  If that will offend you or make you 
uncomfortable, please use your own discretion in choosing whether or not to 
read this.

*To bring you up to speed (no pun intended!):
In Under the Stars I, Bud's injury had affected Harm and Mac much more than 
TPTB let on.  They were haunted by horrible nightmares of the other being 
the victim of the landmine.  As a result, Harm turned to over-the-counter 
caffeine/ephedrine pills to stay awake during the day.  He became addicted 
and the side effects caused him to verbally attack everyone in his path, 
including Mac, Singer, and his own mother and stepfather.  He took some 
leave time to overcome the addiction, and when he returned to Washington, he 
and Mac spent a shipper-moment filled night together just talking and loving 
each other's company.

When we last left H&M, they were at the planetarium in the National Air & 
Space Museum....

As a few stragglers found seats, a museum employee explained about turning 
off cell phones and not taking pictures during the show. Only half paying 
attention to the standard speech, Harm looked at Mac and smiled. He put his 
arm around her, and reached across himself to take her hand with his other.

If he was going to make himself comfortable, than so would she, Mac thought. 
She snuggled down in her seat and nestled her head against his chest.

"Comfy?" Harm whispered.

"Very."

Soon, the house lights went dark, and the dome all around them was covered 
in a simulated night sky. And before they knew it, Harm and Mac's wish came 
true. In each other's arms, under the stars, they fell into a deep, peaceful 
sleep.

And now...


-----Under the Stars II-----


Their nap at the planetarium was the first calm, restful sleep either of 
them had had in weeks.  It did wonders for their energy, and Harm and Mac 
spent the rest of the day in the museum learning from the displays and doing 
some of the hands-on exhibits.  When they had exhausted every inch of 
aviation and outer space, there was still some time before the museum 
closed, so they stopped in the gift shop.  Everything was highly overpriced, 
but the tourists who made up the majority of the visitors never seemed to 
mind.

Harm was looking through a hardcover book of beautiful artwork of military 
aircraft when Mac snuck up behind him.

"Sorry, Flyboy. I asked - none of the planes are for sale."

Harm closed the book and smirked at her. "Who needs their crummy planes? I 
already have one of my own, or have you forgotten about Sarah?"

"How could I? She's the love of your life, isn't she?" Mac winked at him and 
turned to look at some souvenirs across the way.

"Yes, she is," Harm whispered just as Mac was out of range to hear the 
double entendre. He flipped through a few more books before joining Mac at a 
display of space-themed items.  They had everything.  Freeze-dried ice cream 
and strawberries that the astronauts ate, buttons commemorating the Apollo 
missions, posters of launches from Capes Kennedy and Canaveral.  Mac was 
looking through the lens of a sleek looking telescope.

"You want a telescope?" Harm asked her.

"It might be cool to have one," she answered.

Harm looked at the pricetag. "You got three thousand extra dollars lying 
around, Marine?"

She backed away from the expensive instrument. "Definitely not."  What the 
heck would she do with a telescope, anyway? Study stars and planets millions 
of miles away? She had enough trouble dealing with things that were right in 
front of her face.

"Hey!" Harm said excitedly.  "Here's something much cheaper, and just as 
fun." He passed the package to Mac.

"Glow in the dark stars?"

"Yeah!" he continued, sounding like a little boy. "They're stickers. You put 
them on the ceiling and you can look at them before you fall asleep."

Mac turned the package over. "Yeah, well these little *stickers* are twenty 
dollars."

"So? There must be two hundred of them in there, plus comets. I'll split it 
with you."

She chose her words deliberately. "You mean go halves?"

"If that's the phrase you want to use."

"That's your phrase and you know it," she said playfully.

Harm smiled. "Yes, and Mac, y'know, you made up your mind about that baby in 
less time than this. They're only stickers. Do you want them or not?"

"Yeah, let's get them."

"Good. I'll even help you put them up. You'll need someone tall."

"All right," she answered, "but no constellations that look like planes or 
anchors."

"Something wrong with planes and anchors?"

Yeah, she thought. One whisks you away from dealing with everything, and the 
other's designed to keep you in the same damn place, incapable of moving 
forward. She said nothing and rolled her eyes at him instead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the museum, they headed to Georgetown and stopped for dinner at a 
restaurant near Mac's apartment.  In honor of the good time she'd had with 
Harm all day, Mac ordered a salad.

"Yeah, a chef salad," Harm chided, "with bacon and ham all over it. Not to 
mention blue cheese dressing." He shook his head.

"Hey, it's a start," Mac said. Which is more than I can say you've ever 
attempted, she thought as she stabbed at a slice of cucumber.  When the 
waitress came by to check on them, Harm ordered a chocolate milkshake.

"Two can play this game," Harm said, a cocky look on his face.

"Yeah Harm, that'll really go great with your grilled chicken breast and 
steamed vegetables."

"Hey now, contrary to what you think, I am not a junkfood nazi."

"Okay, you're right. You're not that bad. Maybe you're just the junkfood 
KGB."

"No, I'm more like the junkfood hall monitor. It's just not something to eat 
every day. There's a time and a place for it."

"And this is the time and place?"

"Sure is. We're celebrating."

"Celebrating what?"

"Our nap. I just hope I don't have to bum planetarium tickets off of Bud 
every time I can't fall asleep."

"I don't think we're going to have that problem much anymore," Mac said.

"I hope not," Harm replied, but he did agree. Neither of them had actually 
come out and said so, but their night together, falling into the comfortable 
habits of the friendship that had once almost been destroyed, not to mention 
their confessions about their nightmares, had been very cathartic.

After dinner, they drove to Mac's, and as she put up a pot of coffee, Harm 
absent-mindedly flipped through the television stations.  The big 
entertainment news was an international fashion conference that would take 
place in Milan beginning in two days. Big names in the industry would be 
there from all over the world.

"Come on, sailor, whaddya say we go create the heavens?" Mac was holding up 
the package of star stickers and headed to her bedroom. Harm turned off the 
TV and started to follow her. He confessed to himself that it certainly 
wasn't the first time he'd imagined seeing stars in Mac's bedroom. But of 
course, those fantasies never had anything to do with stickers...

When Harm entered the room, Mac had already taken off her shoes and was 
standing on the bed. Her arms were stretched above her as she placed a star 
on the ceiling, and the position caused her sweater to lift up to just above 
her navel. She was focused on the ceiling, and Harm took a moment to enjoy 
the view of the taut, tan skin over her tight abdomen. Before letting his 
gaze linger too long, he took off his shoes and joined her on the bed.  Mac 
was placing the stars at random.

"You can't do it like that," Harm announced.

"Wait a minute...we're in *my* bedroom and you're telling me how to 'do 
it?'" Mac said playfully.

"Whoa, Mac. Big red light." But he was kidding himself. He could think of a 
thousand better responses to her comment. But Mac was so hard to read 
sometimes. He could've said something to make her smile and blush, or it 
could backfire, and she'd misread it as it seemed always happened between 
them. And the last thing he needed was to report to his first day back at 
JAG with a black eye. "What I meant was, maybe we should try to make actual 
constellations. There's a guide on the back of the package."

They studied the star map for a few seconds and got to work. "Look," Harm 
said proudly. "I made Orion, the hunter."

Mac looked and nodded. "What was he supposed to be hunting, anyway?"

Harm shrugged. "I don't know. But I'll tell you what he *wasn't* hunting - 
comfortable shoes."

Mac started laughing hard at that and she lost her balance and fell backward 
onto the bed. Harm stepped down and lay down next to her, propped up on his 
arm. "I said that such a long time ago. Do you remember everything I say?"

"Only the good stuff," he whispered, and he lowered his face to hers until 
their lips met. It was a soft, innocent kiss, and they parted quickly, but 
Harm's eyes never left Mac's, and he looked at her, as if silently asking 
permission to go further.  Her response came in the form of her reaching up 
and placing her hand behind his head, to draw his mouth back to hers.  This 
time, the feelings that had been building since the night before at the 
Lincoln Memorial, and the release of sleeping soundly in each other's arms 
combined in a heated kiss filled with a passion they had given in to only 
once before.

Their mouths responded to each other as if they were one, each instinct more 
right than the one before.  Mac's fingers roamed through Harm's short hair 
before her hands made their way down his strong back. Harm ran his hands 
slowly down Mac's sides, and he paused to grip her waist before moving to 
the rounded curve of her hips.  He broke their kiss and his mouth left a 
trail of feather-soft kisses along her face until he arrived at her neck and 
kissed more needfully, pulling the collar of her sweater aside to kiss her 
collarbone and between her neck and shoulder.

Mac was breathless, lost in Harm's ministrations, afraid that she would wake 
to find this all a dream.  Strange, how just a few hours before, she was 
scared to go to sleep, and now, she never wanted to wake up.  Harm's hand 
found the hem of her sweater and she tensed when she felt his hand on her 
skin. "Harm," she said, and he pulled away sharply.

They both sat up, and in silence, their eyes held an entire conversation.  
It was too much, too fast. Mac scooted to the edge of the bed and Harm did 
the same.  "I...uh, I should probably go," he said softly. He started 
putting on his shoes. "Yeah," Mac replied, staring at the floor.

Harm approached her and kneeled on the floor in front of her.  He looked up 
and met her eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Mac shook her head. "Don't be. Please, don't be. I'm not."

They looked at each other for a few seconds, and then Harm stood up to 
leave. Mac followed him and she stood in her bedroom doorway as he put on 
his jacket. "You'll have to come back sometime so we can finish."

Harm was confused.

"The stars, I mean"

"Oh, that," he grinned. "Yeah, I'll come back."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Now come lock the door behind me."

Mac had to bite her tongue to keep from saying what was on her mind - that 
he didn't have to leave. But it wasn't right. After all the stops and 
starts, all the running, they had finally fixed "them."  All the gears were 
turning right and now wasn't the time to throw some unknown switch that 
might break it all apart again.

God, how Harm wanted to stay, too.  But this wasn't the way to do it, so 
fast and unplanned.  They were finally on steady ground as friends again, 
and introducing some other element could very well shake that foundation 
loose.  Especially considering they had never truly sorted out their 
feelings.

But there it was again, Mac making simple things complicated.  One day, he 
wouldn't be able to stand it anymore, and he was going to grab her and do 
every single thing he'd ever fantasized about.  One day, his hands and his 
mouth and the rest of the body would succeed in showing her what his words 
had always failed to convey.

Dammit. Why did she need an engraved invitation, or worse, some three-hour 
conversation covering all his Freudian hangups?  This never had anything to 
do with his father, or Diane, or Renee.  It had everything to do with the 
fact that he loved Mac.

But they were combustible.  A spark and gasoline. The two together were 
explosive and utterly destructive.

Harm opened the door to leave.

"Harm!" Mac called out.  His eyes met hers, and he waited for her to 
continue. She sighed. "Never mind."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MONDAY MORNING
JAG HQ
0800 EST

Harm came out of the elevator, and was on his way to the breakroom for his 
morning coffee when Harriet stopped him.

"Oh, Commander! It's so good to see you again! Permission to hug the 
Commander?"

Harm smiled at Harriet's unabashed sweetness. "Sure. Permission granted."

After a quick hug, Harriet said, "You look good, Sir, very good."

"Thanks, Harriet, I feel good."

"Then everything is..."

"Ship shape. Back to normal. Though I don't know if that's good or bad," he 
said and winked at her.

Harriet laughed. "Yes Sir. Uh, Sir? Bud told me you stopped by the house the 
other day."

"Yeah, I hope that's okay."

"Oh, more than okay, Sir. It really cheered him up. It's good for him to 
know he's not forgotten."

"Well, you just tell him, out of sight, but definitely not out of mind."

"I will. Thanks again, Sir. Great to have you back," she said, and went back 
to her desk. Harm went on to the breakroom, where Mac was pouring herself a 
cup of coffee.

"Morning," he said, causing Mac to jump slightly and spill the hot liquid 
onto her hand.

"Ow!” she yelled, putting the cup down.

Harm dropped his briefcase and rushed over to grab her hand, which was 
quickly turning bright red.  "Here, come on," he said, and he quickly guided 
her to the sink and held her hand under a stream of cold water.

"It's okay. It's fine," Mac said, pulling her hand away.

"Lemme see," Harm said, turning her hand and gently touching the affected 
spot.

"Ouch!"

"You should put a band-aid on that," Harm said, and he looked through the 
cabinets until he found the first aid kit.  He blew lightly on the burn and 
Mac was momentarily distracted by his cool breath on her skin. He took out a 
vitamin E cream and applied some to the burn before securing a band-aid over 
it. "There, all better," he said.  "But, of course, there is the final 
touch...if you want it, that is."

"And what would that be?"

"Just a little something my mom did whenever I got hurt when I was little." 
He brought her hand to his lips and put a tiny kiss on it. "Kiss it and make 
it better," he said, grin firmly in place.

"Uh...thanks." Mac turned back to the counter and wiped up the rest of the 
spill. "You want some coffee?"

"Decaf," he said. "I slept really well last night."

"Me too," Mac said. And it was true, even if that deep sleep came after 
about an hour of staring up at the stars above her bed and dwelling on what 
had happened between them just a little while before. "Oh, I almost forgot - 
I have something for you. Come by my office later."

"Okay." Mac left and Harm took his coffee and headed to his office. He 
passed Lt. Singer on the way.  "Uh, Lieutenant, can I see you for a minute?"

"Yes, Commander." She followed him into his office and watched as he put his 
coffee and cover on his desk.  "Close the door and have a seat."  She did, 
and Harm sat behind the desk. "Um, about what happened a few weeks ago..."

"Yes Sir?"

"I owe you an apology.  I was going through a hard time with some personal 
issues and I took it out on whoever was handy.  My behavior was, at the 
least, unbecoming of an officer, and worse, it was uncalled for and 
personally hurtful to you, and I'm ashamed of it."

"Thank you, Sir. It's big of you to say so."

"Well, it's the truth. And if it makes you feel any better, I'm composing a 
letter of praise for your record, for your enthusiasm and efficiency."

"Oh, there's no need for that, Sir. Considering how I took your attack with 
a cool head and calm understanding, I already looked pretty good after the 
incident."

You make me sick, Harm thought. And to think I was going to help you.  
"Well, glad I could help, then. Dismissed." Harm knew he could be full of 
himself at times, but Singer truly had the market cornered on smug.


1100 EST


Everyone had been going about their usual tasks when the ZNN programming on 
the TV in the bullpen was interrupted to cut to a scene in Italy.

"We are live at the scene in Milan where an apparent explosion has ripped 
through the hotel which is hosting the International Fashion Expo this week. 
  There is no word yet on what caused the explosion, but several of the 
world's top designers are feared dead.  Structural engineers are assessing 
the stability of what remains of the building before police and rescue 
workers will be able to begin searching for survivors. We will have more 
information on this tragic story as it develops."

All action stopped in the bullpen and all eyes were focused on the 
television.  After the report, work resumed slowly, with many wondering if 
this was yet another link in the horrific chain of terrorism.

"TINER!" The Admiral barked from his office.

"Yes Sir?" the young yeoman jumped up from his desk.

"Get me a list of all flights to Milan. Or Naples. Or Rome. Christ, anywhere 
in Italy will do!"

"Already on it, Sir!"

"God dammit," AJ said to himself as he stood up and started pacing back and 
forth. "Oh, and Tiner, hold all my calls, too." He looked out the window and 
aimed a prayer at the heavens. He also gave silent thanks that it was a 
clear day so there'd be no weather problems to prevent getting off the 
ground.

After a few minutes, Tiner patched in to the intercom. "Uh, Sir, there's a 
call for you on line one."

"Dammit Tiner, I told you to hold my calls!"

"Yes Sir, but I think you'll want to take this one, Sir."

He grumbled and angrily picked up the receiver. "Chegwidden!"

"AJ," came a soft voice.

"Marcella! My God, what's going on over there?"

AJ's ex-wife spoke through broken sobs. "I don't know. I have heard nothing 
yet. The police, they don't tell us anything. Francesca has her mobile 
phone.  Why does she not call me?"

"Try and stay calm. Getting frantic won't help anyone."

"This is what *you* are trying, AJ?"

"As best I can. There isn't much else I can do from here."

"Yes, you are right. Then I will go. I will call you if I have news."

"The hell you will," AJ said. "I'm on my way there right now."

"You are coming here?"

"Absolutely," he answered. He hadn't exactly been the best father for most 
of Francesca's life, but he'd be damned if he wasn't there for her at a time 
like this. Especially if...no, don't even think like that, he told himself.

As soon as he was booked on a flight out of Dulles for that evening, AJ 
summoned Tiner again. "Get me Rabb, Mackenzie, and Turner, and I mean now."

Seconds later, the three officers were standing at attention in the 
Admiral's office. They all knew that his daughter was very likely at the 
hotel that was still spouting flames when they walked past the TV on their 
way to his office.

"At ease."

"Admiral," Harm jumped in, "if there's anything--"

"Anything at all," Mac added.

"Name it," Sturgis finished.

"Thank you. Unfortunately, there's nothing any of us can do right now." He 
leaned back onto his desk, half sitting, half standing. "I'm on the first 
flight out of Dulles to Italy in a few hours. Colonel, while I'm gone you 
will be the acting JAG.  I’m putting my trust in you. Don't let me down."

"Yes Sir," Mac said. "I mean, I won't Sir."

"Rabb, try to keep yourself out of trouble for five minutes. I have enough 
to deal with at the moment."

"Understood Sir."

"And Commander Turner?"

"Sir?"

"I expect you to hold things together here after these two burn the place 
down. Keep them in line, huh?"

"It won't be easy, Sir, but I'll do my best."

AJ grabbed his cover and coat and was at the door when Harm called to him, 
"Sir? Keep us posted. We don't want to have to learn anything from ZNN."

"You too then, 'cause neither do I." And with that, he rushed out.

"Whoo...." Sturgis let out a long sigh. "That's some blow to take, huh?"

"Do you think she's....she's..."

"Don't even think about that yet, Mac," Harm said. "Until we know more, 
let's try not to make ourselves crazy." Mac nodded.

"Did you ever meet her?" Sturgis asked.

"Yeah," Mac said. "She came here a while ago. The Admiral had a big party to 
introduce her to everyone." But Mac didn't get to know her very well that 
night, she remembered.  The detective stalking her had seen to that.

"She was very sweet," Harm said. "Funny too, and beautiful."

Sturgis shook his head. "Boy, I just hope..."

"Yeah," Harm whispered. "We all do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the end of the day, Harm went into AJ's office, where Mac was behind the 
big desk as the acting JAG.

"Denied!" Mac yelled.

"Huh?"

"Whatever you're about to ask permission for, Commander.  It's denied."

Harm rolled his bottom lip out in mock sadness.

"Just kidding."

"Any word from the Admiral yet?" he asked.

"No. His plane doesn't even leave until 18:25."

"Is it only 16:00?" Harm said, glancing at his watch. "Jeez. Feels like it's 
been a million years."

"I know."

"Look, Mac, I know this probably isn't the best time for this, but this 
morning, you said you had something for me?"

"Yeah! Thanks for reminding me. I forgot about it after..." She reached into 
her briefcase and pulled out the package of glow in the dark stars. "Your 
half, remember?"

"You sure you don't want to use all of them?"

"Nope. We go halves. That was the deal. 'Cause if we can't even stick to 
this deal, what would become of our other one?"

Harm was surprised, but very pleased, at the comment. "You have nothing to 
worry about, Mac. That deal's not going anywhere."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE FOLLOWING DAY
1600 EST


During the course of the next day, the JAG staff learned from ZNN that, 
indeed, hundreds had been killed or injured, from top fashion designers to 
hotel maids and bellhops.  However, there was still no word on Francesca, 
and no one had been brave enough to call the Admiral before he called them 
with any news himself.

AJ did eventually call, from the Paretti's villa in Naples.

"Rabb," Harm answered his phone.

"Commander."

"Admiral!...Is there any word yet?"

"Yes, and it's not good." AJ hesitated. "She's, uh...she's gone, Harm."

Harm let out the breath he'd been holding and his hopes deflated. "Oh, Sir," 
he said softly, "I'm so sorry. We were all praying over here and hoping for 
the best."

"I know, and I appreciate it. But I guess you can all focus on your duties 
again."

"Yes Sir." Harm thought for a moment. "Uh, Sir? Would you like me to bear 
the news to the office here?"

"No. No, but thank you for thinking of it. I'll make other arrangements."

"All right Sir. If you don't mind me asking, how is Mrs. Paretti taking 
this?"

"Well, she's just lost her only child, so take a wild guess."

"Yes Sir," Harm said, kicking himself for asking something so obvious. "And 
you, Sir? Are you all right?"

AJ sighed. Harm could almost see the emotional walls go up around the man 
from thousands of miles away.

"I will be," he answered quickly and firmly. "Marcella needs me, and I need 
to keep a level head."

"Sir?" Harm asked, a little confused.

"There are some issues that have come up with regards to the bombing."

"Anything I can help with on this end, Admiral?"

"No, Commander, but you can pack your bags and get your six on the next 
flight out here."

"Are you serious Sir?"

"I'm de-“ he cut himself, not daring to use that word.  “Do I sound 
serious?"

"Yes Sir, you do."

"I've already got Tiner calling the airlines for you."

"Okay, Sir. Uh, is there anything else you can tell me right now? It's a 
long flight and I'll have a lot of time to brainstorm."

"Okay, try this on for size.  Much to my surprise, Clayton Webb was waiting 
for me at the airport when I arrived here. It seems there's evidence that 
this was Al-Qaeda and he has reason to believe there's a cell of them here 
and that they may strike again."

Harm was furious, but not surprised.  These days, things like this, sadly, 
didn't shock him like they once did.

"That's all I know right now. Unfortunately, in the middle of this 
particular investigation, an American two-star doesn't carry much authority. 
  I get bits and pieces, but you and I both know that's not good enough. Not 
for me, not for Marcella, and sure as hell not for my daughter!" AJ took a 
deep breath and regained his composure. "So anyway, I need your help."

"Yes Sir, whatever I can do."

"Just call me when you have your flight information. I'll pick you up 
myself. Oh, and Commander, not a word of this to anyone, especially not 
Colonel Mackenzie."

"What should I say when I leave, then, Sir?"

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

"Mac can be a relentless interrogator."

"I know. That's why she's acting JAG, but Commander, you've always been an 
expert at evading her questions. One more time won't kill you."

"No Sir."

"Okay, then I'll talk to you later, and if you would, transfer me to the 
Colonel before you hang up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Colonel Mackenzie," Mac answered.

"Colonel."

"Sir! Is...is everything..."

"It's bad news."

"Oh, Sir." Mac was heartbroken for him. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what to 
say."

"It's all right, Mac." AJ was touched by the sadness evident in her voice. 
"Just do me a favor."

"Anything you need, Sir."

"I hate to do this to you, but would you mind informing the staff? And also, 
tell them, no flowers or cards. If they want to help me, the best thing they 
can all do is go about their duties and give one hundred percent to their 
jobs."

"Consider it done, Sir."

"Good. One more thing. I've asked Commander Rabb to come out here to assist 
me with a few things. You can consider it official JAG business for now, so 
don't dock him any leave time."

"JAG business, Sir?  Is there something I should know about?"

"No, nothing we won't be able to handle."

"Sir, really, if there's anything I can do...I mean, I'm sure Admiral Morris 
could take over here. I could fly out with the Commander."

"Absolutely NOT," he answered firmly. "I need Harm on this. I don't want you 
anywhere near here, Mac."

Mac was taken aback by his cold dismissal. But, she reasoned, he did just 
lose his daughter. Understandably, he wasn't himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few minutes later, Harm knocked on Mac's door just as Tiner announced his 
presence through the intercom on the Admiral's desk.

"Enter."

Harm walked into Mac's temporary office and quickly shut the door behind 
him.  He strode purposefully toward Mac, and stopped just short of the desk. 
"I guess you've heard?" he asked softly.

Mac nodded. "What are we gonna do?"

Harm shook his head slowly. "I don't know. I know what it's like to lose a 
parent, but I've never lost a child. It must be unbearable. A parent burying 
their child...it's just not natural."

Mac's silence indicated her agreement. She didn't know what else to say, so 
she stared absent-mindedly out the window. The trees were a glorious mix of 
reds, yellows, and oranges. It always seemed so strange how the world could 
move on, the seasons change, and time continue as it always had, even when 
something like this happened. A wonderful person was no longer among them, 
yet watching minutes and hours tick by, you'd never be able to tell.

This certainly wasn't the first time she'd had this feeling. No, the first 
time was when her mother left. A little girl was left behind, but you'd 
never know it, as day turned into night, winter into spring. And she'd felt 
the same way so many times since then. There was Harm's announcement that 
he'd changed his designator, his crash at sea, Mic's cancellation of their 
wedding, and more recently, Bud's injury. And more. Too many more to even 
remember. It seemed that no event, however devastating, could stop the world 
from turning.

"Mac?" Harm had been calling her name, and finally the sound of his voice 
broke her out of her trance. She turned around from the window to look at 
him. "Mac, you all right?"

"Yeah. I was just thinking about the Admiral."

Harm nodded. He was standing by the fireplace, with his arm resting on the 
mantle, just inches away from a picture of AJ with Francesca.

"He's asked me to go out there for a few days," he said.

"He mentioned it to me. Said it was JAG business, but he wouldn't say what."

Harm shook his head, dismissing the idea. "No, just some of her estate 
paperwork, that sort of thing."

"You're a terrible liar, Harm."

Harm sighed. He never could hide much from the perceptive Marine. "Look, 
Mac...I can't say anything. I would tell you if I could, but I gave the 
Admiral my word."

If that was the truth, she knew there was no point in pushing him. Harmon 
Rabb was nothing if not a man of his word. His honor was everything to him. 
And as much as it nagged at her not knowing what was really going on, that 
was one of the qualities she loved most about him.

"I understand," she resigned. "So what time does your flight leave?"

"22:00."

"Do you need a ride? I can take you to the airport."

"No, but thanks. Tiner's already arranged for a cab."

"All right. Well, why don't you go home early and start packing? You know 
you're gonna have to get there super early. And don't hide anything funny in 
your shoes."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll have a blast checking my weapon with security, no pun 
intended."

"Just...be careful, okay? You just came through an ordeal of your own, 
y'know."

"I owe it to the Admiral, Mac. You know that."

She had to agree. They both owed it to him. He had always been very 
protective of them, as officers, and as friends. More times than she cared 
to recall, one or both of them could have been transferred to Iceland or 
some God forsaken desert station for various transgressions.  But AJ had 
always had a big enough heart to keep them in Falls Church. Except, of 
course, when it had been their own *choice* to leave.

In a lot of ways, AJ reminded Mac of her Uncle Matt - both men of 
incorruptible principles, loyal to the Service and to their country. Every 
now and then, she caught herself wondering what life would've been like with 
the Admiral as a father.  She envied Francesca that, and imagined it would 
be better to have a father who loved and respected you, even if he lived 
thousands of miles away, than one you saw every day but treated you as 
nothing more than a servant, and an obstacle in the way of his next drink.

"If there's anything you need over there, anything I can do from here, you 
know my numbers. Call whenever. Forget about the time difference."

Harm nodded. "I just hope you remember saying that when I call and wake up 
your mean green Marine butt at 0300."

"Only if *you* remember what I said - be careful."

"Aren't I always?" he grinned.

"Trouble has a way of finding you," Mac answered seriously.

"I'll be careful, Mac. And remember, I won't be alone. I'll have a SEAL 
watching my six."

A SEAL riding an emotional rollercoaster, Mac thought. "Did you know he 
asked me to deliver the news to the staff?"

Harm's eyes showed his surprise. "No, I didn't know. I offered to do it, but 
he said he would make other arrangements. I guess that meant you."

Mac nodded. "Marines. We always get the hard stuff." She looked 
uncomfortable and Harm noticed at once.

"Look, Mac, I have plenty of time to head home and pack.  Do you want me to 
tell everyone?"

"No, I'll do it."

"The Admiral would never know."

"But I would know."

"All right. But I can stick around for it if you need me to."

"Harm, I can handle it."

"I know you can handle it. What I asked is if you need me to stick around."

"No I don't need--"

"Let me rephrase," Harm cut her off. "Would you like me to stay? And not 
because you're not strong enough, or because I think you need backup, but 
because we're friends. And the Admiral's our friend, and saying what you 
have to say won't be easy."

Mac regarded him strangely for a brief moment. How could one man be capable 
of uttering such hurtful things at times, and at other times, say the exact 
words she needed to hear? Her lips curved into a slow smile and she nodded. 
"Thanks," she whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they made their way to the door, Harm asked, "So what's the plan? Any 
idea what you're going to say?"

"Nope. I'll improvise. Fly by the seat of my pants."

"Hey, that's my job!" Harm joked.

Mac smacked him playfully on the arm. "Don't you dare make me smile at a 
time like this!"

They entered the bullpen silently. "Attention on deck!" Mac called.

Everyone stood rigidly and faced her. "At ease. I'm afraid I'm the bearer of 
bad news." The office fell silent as everyone waited for the rest of the 
announcement, their eyes fixed on Mac. Harm placed his hand gently on the 
small of her back, encouraging her to continue.

"I'm sure you've all been following the news on the bombing in Italy. And as 
you know, Admiral Chegwidden's daughter, Francesca, worked in the fashion 
industry in Milan. We can all stop wondering...she was at the conference in 
the hotel and..." she paused and took a deep breath, "we've received word 
that she was among the casualties."

There were gasps and cries from among the staff, hands covering shocked 
mouths as people struggled to process the news.  Their faces were sullen. AJ 
was a friend to everyone on staff. Having as much authority as he did, it 
would've been easy for him to abuse his power and rule with an iron fist. 
But under the tough exterior, he was a gentle man who, now and then, would 
just as soon give up his position and the burden of responsibility and tough 
choices that came with it.

"The...the funeral will be held near her mother's home in Naples. The 
Admiral has asked me to tell you that, in lieu of flowers or cards, you can 
best pay your respects by working to the best of your abilities and keeping 
this office in perfect order while he's gone"

Mac looked around at the sea of faces.  There were some legal clerks and 
court reporters, and then others, whom she knew much better. Tiner, Gunny, 
and Harriet each looked like they'd lost a member of their own families. She 
better finish this before she broke down herself, Mac thought.

"So, I know you'll all give one hundred percent. But, please, by all means, 
take a few minutes for yourselves if you need to. As you were."

Some people returned to their desks. Others remained standing where they 
were, waiting for it to sink in.  Mac looked up uneasily at Harm.

"You all right?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Okay, then I should get going." He put on his coat and started to walk 
away, but he quickly turned back to her. "Listen, call me if you need--" he 
stopped himself, "if you feel like calling me...for anything."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1830 EST
HARM'S APARTMENT
NORTH OF UNION STATION

Harm was folding a shirt to pack when there was a knock on his door.  Who 
could that be, he wondered? He wasn't expecting anyone. "Just a minute!" he 
called, and added the shirt to a pile in his suitcase.

He opened the door and was pleasantly surprised to see Mac standing there.

"Mac, hey!" he smiled at her.

"Hi," she replied. She remained in the doorway while they looked at each 
other.

"Come on in," Harm said, opening the door all the way. "So, what brings the 
acting JAG to my humble home? I'm not in trouble, am I?"

"Not unless there's something you haven't told me," she joked. "Really, I 
just wanted to come see you off. You might be gone a while and I wanted to 
give you a proper goodbye."

"Rrrreeaaally..." Harm was intrigued. "And what exactly did you have in 
mind?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out...when your cab gets here," she 
teased.

"Hey, no fair. You've seen me in court; you know I could get you to talk."

"And what makes you think it involves talking?" she said, striking a sexy 
pose and batting her eyes at him.

This was a side of Mac that she rarely showed.  A damn near irresistible 
side, and Harm ate up every second of it.  "In that case," he said, "I'm 
definitely not waiting till my cab comes. I could tickle it out of you, 
y'know. We Naval officers have expert training in that."

"And we Marines are trained to resist!" she said through a wide smile.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Harm stood very still for a few seconds and then sprang into action, chasing 
Mac around his living room. She squealed with delight as she tried to keep 
one step ahead of him. She ran up the step to his bedroom, and before she 
knew it, he had her cornered. He came slowly closer, until finally he put 
his hands on either side of her, effectively blocking her in. "I've got you 
now!" he laughed, out of breath.

"So you do," she said dreamily. "Now what *will* you do with me..."

His eyes met hers, and for a moment, he just gazed into the dark brown 
depths before him, his breathing still hard from all the running around.  
"Exactly what I said I would." And without warning, he scooped her into his 
arms and tossed her onto the half of the bed that wasn't covered with 
clothing to be packed. He held her down with one hand and tickled her 
mercilessly with the other.

She wriggled and squirmed underneath him and shrieked and laughed the whole 
time. "Okay, okay! I give!"

Harm stopped his torture and stepped back so she could sit up. He shook his 
head. "Hmph. Some training."

Mac ran her fingers through her hair, trying to fix it, while Harm went to 
the other side of the bed to finish packing. Mac noticed a small stack of 
boxer shorts, in an assortment of designs and colors.

"These regulation, Flyboy?" she asked with a smile.

Harm tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at her. She really was a 
crackerjack sometimes. "Hey, I have to keep things interesting, don't I?" he 
joked. For myself, if for no one else. It had been a long time since anyone 
else had reason to see them. A really long time. Way too damn long.  
"Besides, I bet if I took a look at your underwear drawer, I'd see every 
color of the rainbow."

"Is that a request?" Mac uttered her famous line.

Without missing a beat, Harm came back with, "I'll show you mine if you show 
me yours."

"I've already got yours right here," Mac said playfully, holding up the 
pile.

All they could do was look at each other and laugh. Harm couldn't pinpoint 
exactly when it happened, but at some point, he and Mac had regained all the 
time and closeness they'd lost along their storm-tossed way, and they had 
even managed to make some headway. They'd had to fight for every inch, every 
smile, every day without an argument. But he felt like they were finally at 
an understanding.  A threshold.

Or maybe a cliff. And if they jumped from it together, they could have the 
ride of their lives on the way down. Or, he feared, it could be *such* a 
rush that they'd let their guards down. Forget to look out, and hit the 
ground full force, with nothing to break the fall.

For her part, Mac had always been a little braver when it came to making 
that jump with Harm. In fact, she was thoroughly disappointed. She was 
certain he was going to kiss her when he had her pinned against the wall. If 
there was ever a more perfect moment for it, she didn't know when it was.  
Harm may have gotten his eyes fixed, but Lord knew he was still blind in so 
many ways.

Ham continued choosing clothes from his closet, and after a few minutes, he 
noticed Mac had grown strangely quiet. She was sitting on the edge of the 
bed, her face turned away from him.

"Mac, you okay? You're pretty quiet all of a sudden." When she didn't 
respond, Harm put down the shirt he was holding and walked around to stand 
before her.  She looked distressed, and was on the verge of tears. His heart 
tightened to see her this way.

"Mac," he whispered, "what's wrong?" She still didn't answer, and he kneeled 
down in front of her, took her small hands in his, and looked up at her 
troubled expression.  "Hey, what is it? Talk to me."

"Are we cursed?" she finally said softly.

"What do you mean?"

"First Bud, now this. What did we do to deserve it all?"

"Oh, Mac," Harm sighed. His thumbs caressed her hands in slow, gentle 
circles. "I know it seems that way. But these things happen. And there's no 
why or how.  They just…happen."

"But why do they keep happening to *us*?" she asked, and a tear rolled down 
her cheek.

Harm reached up and brushed it away. "I don't know, sweetheart. I don't 
know." He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and tenderly ran his 
hand through the back of her hair.  "But we just have to keep going. You 
know what they say - keep on keeping on. It's a big game, that's all."

"Well, I'm sick of playing. Haven't we been through enough? All of us - me, 
you, Bud and Harriet, now the Admiral. I quit."

"None of us has that choice, Mac. And it's hell, but the alternative isn't 
any better. You know that."

She sniffled. "I know. It's just, sometimes..."

Harm understood. "I know. I know." He raised himself up and gathered Mac 
into a tight embrace. "It's okay."

Wrapped in his strong, warm arms, inhaling his scent, she could actually 
believe that - that it would be okay.  Drawing from his strength made it all 
somehow bearable.

When he released her, she wiped away a final tear and sniffled one last 
time. "All right. Now that I've used up my ration of crying for the 
month..."

That elicited a smile from Harm. He was grateful the sad moment had passed. 
He never was much good at offering comfort. Crying women were like a foreign 
species to him. Other than hugging them and saying every trite phrase in the 
book, he had no idea what to do with them. It had been awkward as hell with 
Renee.

He recalled something from Jerry Maguire - he was great in the bedroom, 
terrible in the living room. Terrific at sex, horrible at intimacy.  But 
with Mac, it was different. He wanted to take away her pain. It tore him up 
inside to see her hurting. The only thing he knew to do was to hold her and 
soothe her with reassuring words.  And his simple words were completely 
inadequate. But they were all he had.

"While I finish packing," he said, "why don't you boil some water and we'll 
have tea while we wait for the cab."

"Okay. Sounds good."

A few minutes later, the tea bags were steeping in their mugs, and Harm 
emerged from his bedroom with his suitcase and uniform bag.

"I wish you didn't have to go," Mac said. The words were out before she 
could justify them. But Harm understood well enough.

"Me too." Mac passed him a steaming mug, and they sat next to each other at 
the kitchen island. "Thanks...The past few weeks, except for...you know...it 
feels like we're going someplace."

"Yeah," Mac replied. "Someplace good."

"Look, Mac. I know we've had trouble in the past, picking up where we left 
off. But maybe that won't happen this time."

"We have to *make* it not happen, Harm."

"Then let's do that. I don't know where we're headed, but I do know I like 
where we are right now. And yeah, I'm scared that being away for a few days 
might mess things up. So we just have to make sure it doesn't. We've come 
too far."

Mac was listening to him while she breathed in the steam rising from her 
tea. "Definitely. I just wish there was some way around it. But I know you 
have to go."

"Yeah. The Admiral needs us."

"Actually, no. Apparently, he only needs *you*."

"He wants me because it's not certain exactly what happened over there. A 
hotel was just blown up. It could get really dangerous."

"I'm a Marine."

"I'm a Marine, I'm a Marine," Harm imitated. "Why do you always have to use 
that as your defense?"

"Because sometimes I think you and the Admiral forget that I am, in fact, 
trained to kill.  Soldier first, lawyer second, by a long way."

"I know that, Mac. But there's no reason to risk your life when you don't 
have to. Why are you so gung-ho to step into the path of a bullet?"

"Or a bomb?" Mac countered. "Why do *you* have to do it?"

"Look, I'm not jumping for joy about it, but the Admiral wants our help." 
Mac turned away from him, and he put his hand firmly on her shoulder, 
turning her back around. "*Our* help," he emphasized, tightening his grip 
and locking eyes with her. "I'm the one he wants with him in Italy. So what? 
You're the one he trusts and respects enough to be the Judge Advocate 
General while he's gone. Give him some credit, Mac, because he sure hell 
gives *you* a lot."

Mac sighed and Harm felt her relax a little. "Besides," he added, trying to 
ease the tension, "if I leave, no one's going to miss my ugly face. But if 
*you* left, whose smile would brighten everyone's day?"

Despite her best attempt to suppress it, Mac's face broke into a big smile.

Harm's mouth curved up to match it. "See? Instant sunshine."

"Y'know, you're not *that* ugly...for a squid."

"Okay, there's something I won't miss while I'm gone. I think the entire 
population of Italy combined won't be as sarcastic as one little Marine."

"Well then I better save some up for when you get back."

"I have a much better idea. Why don't you save a bunch of these instead?" 
And he leaned down to her, and they met in a kiss that started slowly but 
quickly intensified. Harm curved his hand around Mac's neck and his thumb 
caressed her cheek. Mac's arms were threaded under Harm's, and her hands 
came up behind him, feeling the muscles around his shoulder blades.

When they finally parted, Harm's mouth curved into a slow smile.  "I've been 
thinking about doing that again since the second I walked out of your 
apartment two days ago."

Mac was thrilled, but tried to keep her emotions in check. "Was it worth the 
wait?" she asked flirtatiously.

"Oh yes," Harm whispered into her hair, as he planted a kiss on the top of 
her head. Before they could say, or do, anything more, they heard a loud car 
horn from outside.  "That must be the cab."

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you?"

Harm was tempted. "Mac, if we don't say goodbye right now, and I get into 
your car instead, I'll never make it to Italy."

"Is that a promise?"

"Maaaac."

Mac relented and reluctantly accepted her defeat. "Okay, okay. And it won't 
hurt to say it again - please be careful."

"I will," Harm said seriously, and he hooked a finger under Mac's chin to 
bring her face to his for another addictive kiss. "Especially now that more 
of these will be waiting for me when I get back...They *will* be waiting, 
won't they, Mac?"

She smiled. "Count on it. They're not going anywhere."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, Harm was in Italy, and doing his best to help the Admiral 
and Marcella Paretti in any way he could.  But of course, there was nothing 
he could do. He felt very out of place at Francesca's funeral, but attended 
out of respect for AJ and the family.  When he allowed himself to think 
about it, Francesca's death affected him more deeply than he expected. They 
had only known each other briefly, but he was sure they would have been good 
friends if she had lived in the U.S.

The family and close friends walked together from Marcella's home to the 
small church that had been the setting for weddings, baptisms, communions, 
and other funerals for all their lives. It was quiet, the only sounds gentle 
weeping from some of the women, and the click of high-heeled shoes along the 
ground.  Not wanting to make a spectacle of themselves on such a solemn 
occasion, Harm and AJ both opted for simple, dark suits instead of their 
uniforms.

The church was filled with flower arrangements in all colors and sizes, a 
testament to how much she was loved and how many people would mourn her.  
The priest who presided over the service had known Francesca for her entire 
life. He spoke of her kind heart and her tremendous faith.  He noted that 
even though her industry was known for excess and indulgence of all kinds, 
she had remained true to God and the principles of the Church.

Harm noticed AJ visibly affected when the priest mentioned that Francesca's 
life itself was an incredible blessing, and proof of the ultimate connection 
of all people.  From the union of am American man and an Italian woman had 
come a girl with her mother's beauty and passionate spirit, and her father's 
sense of duty and honor.

Harm didn't speak Italian, but it didn't take a translator for him to 
understand most of what was being said, and he was familiar with some of the 
prayers and hymns that were sung in Latin.

At the end of the service, while the procession was beginning to line up to 
proceed to the nearby cemetery, AJ took a moment to get a better look at one 
of the flower arrangements.  Its colors stood out and he had noticed it 
immediately when he'd entered the church.  Harm watched him approach it from 
several feet back.  It was a small arrangement of red, white, and blue 
flowers.  AJ looked at the hand-written note that accompanied it.

~We feel as though we've lost one of our own.
God speed.
Tua famiglia,
United States Navy/United States Marine Corps, JAG~

Harm watched as AJ covered his face with his hands and his shoulders began 
to shake slightly.  He hesitated for a few seconds and then slowly walked up 
to him.  He had absolutely no idea what to do for this man, whom he'd always 
known to be as strong as a mountain.  Protocol and macho pride be damned, he 
did the only thing his instincts told him, and he opened his arms.

AJ stepped into the embrace gratefully and managed to utter "Harm" through 
his tears.  The men stood like that for several seconds before Harm felt AJ 
take a deep breath and stand tall again.  He sighed and pulled a 
handkerchief from his pocket to clean his face.  They both took a final look 
at the flowers from the people at JAG, and AJ finally said, "Let's go, son. 
They're probably waiting."

"Yes Sir," Harm nodded, and he followed AJ out of the church.

At the cemetery, Harm felt very out of place, and stood back several feet 
from the family.  The priest said some final prayers.  Harm noticed that AJ 
hadn't left Marcella's side since they'd left the church.  At every moment, 
he either held her hand, or had a supportive arm around her.  Marcella was 
close with her siblings, and her nieces and nephews, but there was no man in 
her life to help her through this loss.  She looked so comfortable with AJ, 
and he with her, and Harm wondered if he wasn't maybe witnessing a 
rekindling between them.

After the service, friends said goodbye and only close family members 
returned to Marcella's home.  AJ was preoccupied with caring for his 
ex-wife, and he didn't notice when Harm went upstairs to the guest room he 
was staying in.

AJ sat on the couch, holding Marcella's hand, and he caught up on the major 
events in the lives of his former in-laws.  Marcella had two sisters and a 
brother, all married with children of their own.  As they talked about all 
kinds of things, AJ could hear the laughter of the children playing in 
another room.

The divorce had been amicable, and looking at the faces of people who had 
remained friendly and cordial to him through the years, AJ couldn't help but 
wonder what might've been.  Big family dinners, grandchildren, maybe a 
vineyard.  Life certainly would've been different.

But he wouldn't have traded his Navy career for the world, and at the time, 
Marcella wasn't willing to follow him around the globe, at the whim of the 
United States government.  Of course, now things were quite different, for 
both of them.  Marcella was a grown woman, and a successful businessperson.  
He could retire an Admiral.

But he was getting way ahead of himself.  It had been a long, emotionally 
exhausting day, and all kinds of crazy ideas were jumping around in his 
drained mind.  Thoughts from every angle.  When he allowed himself to think 
about it, he suddenly felt a kind of odd kinship with Harm's father.  At the 
mercy of the inexplicable ways time and fate bounced people around, he, too, 
had been unable to say goodbye to his child.

AJ looked around the room.  Where the heck was Harm, anyway?

One of the maids came in to announce that dinner was ready to be served.  AJ 
excused himself and went upstairs to look for Harm.  He found him in the 
guest room, sitting in a chair with a guide to Milan in one hand, and an 
Italian phrase book in the other.

AJ knocked on the door.  Harm was startled and jumped up.

"Oh! Sir..."

"They don't bite, Harm.  You shouldn't feel like you have to hide up here, 
y'know."

"I...uh...it seemed like a family time, Sir."

AJ walked into the room and sat on the bed.  "First, while we're here, you 
can drop the Sir.  I think my southern accent makes me stand out enough 
already."

Harm smiled, feeling a bit more at ease.  "Yes Sir.  I mean, okay, AJ."

"That's better.  And, you're right, it is a family time.  And you may not 
feel like part of Marcella's family, but you're damn sure a part of mine, 
and that makes you a part of Francesca's."

Harm was speechless.  "Wow. Sir.  I...but I don't want to intrude."

"Don't be ridiculous.  Marcella's very fond of you, and you're more than 
welcome here.  Now, dinner's being served, so we'll worry about Milan 
later."

"Aye Sir," Harm said, and he put the books on top of the dresser.

"The correct response is, 'Thanks, *AJ*, dinner sounds great.'" AJ shook his 
head.  "Boy, you can take the man out of the uniform…”

Harm blushed.  "Sorry. Hard habit to break, I guess."  Harm certainly 
considered AJ more than just a CO, but he honestly had so much respect and 
admiration for him that calling him Sir just seemed natural.  God knew that 
over the years, he had dealt with plenty of superiors who weren't worthy of 
shining his shoes, let alone being called Sir or Ma'am.

"Well, let's just get downstairs.  My Italian's not what it used to be, and 
I need someone to help me figure out if they're ever making fun of me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AJ was right, Harm decided.  Marcella and her family were very friendly and 
made him feel at home.  And the food was incredible.  There were veal and 
chicken dishes, but Harm had more than enough to choose from among various 
salads, cheeses, and antipasto.

Ignoring the fact that he was there for such a tragic reason, what Harm had 
seen of the country was breathtaking.  He wondered what the Mediterranean 
might look like from the cockpit of his Steerman.  And heck, Mac already 
spoke three languages; she could probably pick up Italian in no time.

Trying to avoid dwelling on Francesca's death until he had to when they got 
to Milan, there was a space in his mind being filled with all sorts of 
far-fetched notions.  Sure, he and Mac were getting closer, but he doubted 
he could ever get her to move here.  Not unless she wanted to open the first 
Beltway Burger in Italy.

After dinner, the family said goodbye, and AJ, Marcella, and Harm were 
relaxing in the salon, the men with cigars and Marcella with a cigarette.  
Crackling sounds and a woodsy smell came from a fire in the fireplace.  AJ 
and Marcella sat closely on the sofa, with Harm across in a plush, 
comfortable chair.

Marcella announced that someone would have to clean out Francesca's 
apartment in Milan.  "I went there to get her favorite dress, and important 
papers," she said.  "But I don't think...I cannot...her shoes, her 
books...all of her things..." her words trailed off as she began sobbing.  
AJ gathered her in his arms and whispered reassurances to her.

"I'll take care of everything," he spoke into her hair, as he ran his hand 
along her back.  "Whatever needs to be done.  Don't worry."

Harm stood up to give them some privacy, but AJ motioned for him to stay.  
After a few minutes, Marcella regained her composure, and they all tried to 
focus on happier things.  "So, tell me, Harmon," she said, and slowly 
exhaled a stream of cigarette smoke, "is there a woman in your life?"

Harm had never been thrilled with his uncommon name, but something about the 
way she said it, with the same erotic accent Francesca had, made him pleased 
with it.  "Uh, no ma'am, not really."

"Yes there is," AJ said, matter-of-factly.  "Even if I have to make it a 
direct order for Crissake."

"Aah, you say no, and AJ says yes," Marcella probed. "Who do I believe?"

Harm blushed.  "It's complicated, Mrs. Paretti."

"Yeah," AJ said, "about as complicated as flipping a light switch."

Marcella was intrigued.  "So tell me about your girl."

Harm sighed.  He didn't want to get into it, especially in front of the 
Admiral, but it seemed to be cheering Mrs. Paretti up a bit.  "Well, she's 
not *my* girl."

"Like hell she isn't.  All you have to do is tell her so."

Harm was cornered.  He smiled and shook his head.  "I thought I came here to 
help you.  I didn't know it was going to include an interrogation.  Whose 
side are you on, anyway?" he joked.

"The side of American national security, and more important, my own sanity, 
both of which get weaker every day you two let your pride win out over your 
hearts."

Marcella and Harm looked at each other, both entertained and amused.

"Hell, I don't even care if you do it at JAG headquarters, but just close 
your office blinds and get it over with already!  Damn desk's big enough."

Marcella was laughing loudly, while Harm sat there, frozen, his mouth agape, 
but slowly transforming into a huge smile.  "See, ma'am," he said, "AJ's not 
used to all this wine.  I think he's cut off for the evening."

"Oh, lighten up, Rabb," AJ said.  His remarks were definitely out of 
character, but he was perfectly sober.  The smile on Marcella's face, a 
temporary respite from her sorrow, encouraged him on.  "Marcella's a 
hopeless romantic.  I'm sure she'd love to hear all about Mac."

"Mac?  This is your girl?"

"Sarah Mackenzie," Harm said, hardly able to hide the glow on his face as he 
mentioned her name.

"And how did you meet Sarah?"

"We work together at JAG."

"So she's a lawyer?"

Harm nodded, and AJ added, "And a damn fine Marine."

"A Marine?!" Marcella was surprised. "She must look very pretty in combat 
boots for you to love her so, Harmon."

He nodded.  "And bikinis.  And jeans.  And T-shirts.  And sweatpants.  And 
wintercoats..." Harm trailed off.  "Oh God. Did I say that out loud?"

Marcella laughed.

"'Fraid so," AJ said, with a satisfied smirk on his face.  "Now who's had 
too much wine?"

They talked a little more about Mac, and then about other people at JAG.  
Harm and AJ were glad to keep Marcella laughing at their stories about Gunny 
and Tiner's antics, and poor Harriet, who had given birth in AJ's office.

Knowing he and AJ had a long day ahead of them tomorrow in Milan, Harm 
excused himself and went upstairs to get ready for bed.

AJ and Marcella stayed together in front of the fire for a while.  They held 
each other in silence, the only sounds a popping and crackling from the 
fireplace.  Neither was exactly sure what they were feeling.  The past few 
days had been taxing for both of them, and right now, they were just glad 
for each other's company.  Though they had been separated by many years and 
thousands of miles, the bond between them was still strong.

"I'm glad you are here, AJ."

"Me too."

"I could not do this by myself."

"That's why I'm here, so you don't have to."

The fire cast everything in an orangey haze.  Marcella's skin was radiant 
and her eyes sparkled.  AJ was as captivated by her now as he had been 
decades ago, as a young lieutenant on weekend leave, who saw the most 
beautiful girl walk into a cafe...

They shared a kiss, the combination of a smoldering passion and a desperate 
need for something warm and alive.  They held each other a little while 
longer, and then reluctantly said goodnight.  It could have gone further, 
and maybe, both considered, it should have.  But both also knew Francesca's 
death demanded answers.  They wouldn't compromise their need for justice by 
clouding it over with lust.

On the way to his room, AJ knocked on Harm's door.  Harm answered wearing a 
Navy T-shirt and dark flannel pajama pants.  "Sir? I mean, AJ."

AJ entered the room and closed the door behind him.  "Uh, listen...about 
this morning, at the church."

"Oh, say no more, Sir.  You don't have to--"

"Thank you," he interrupted. "Y'know, last time I cried like that, I was 
lying in a rice paddy holding a buddy of mine whose lower half was blown to 
hell.  He was trying to give me a message for his wife back home, but..." he 
sighed, "well, he didn't get it out in time."

Harm listened intently.

"Anyway, thanks.  That's not exactly like me.  But, on a lighter note, this 
may be premature, but I think it's safe to say my relationship with Meredith 
is over."

Harm's eyes went wide.  "You mean, Marcella?"

"Yeah.  The past few days have been...well...it just feels right."

"Well, frankly, Sir, with Meredith, I can't say I'd be sorry to see her go."

"And keep your plane in one piece?" AJ joked.

"Keep *you* in one piece is more like it."

"Have I always had such lousy taste in women?"

"No Sir," Harm said honestly. "I liked Dr. Walden a lot.  That is, until her 
idiot son involved your car in his dope scheme - and she sided with him!"

AJ chuckled. "Yeah.  I probably shouldn't have made him enlist.  I fear for 
the Navy every day.  But I guess that's one thing going for Marcella - if 
she ever goes on and on about how perfect her daughter was, I'll agree one 
hundred percent."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, AJ and Harm flew to Milan.  Webb arranged for a cab to 
drive them from Malpensa Airport in to the city.  It was a long ride, and 
when they finally arrived, both men were glad to get out of the small 
European car they weren't used to.  Three-piece suit, trenchcoat and all, 
Webb was waiting anxiously for them on the streetcorner outside the hotel 
where they'd be staying, just a few blocks from the bombing at the Principe 
di Savoia, and AJ approached him while the cab driver helped Harm take their 
bags out of the car.

"Mr. Webb," AJ said flatly.

"Before we get to anything else, I want to say you have my deepest sympathy 
for the loss of your daughter, Admiral.  I never had the pleasure of meeting 
her, but with such an esteemed man for a father, I'm sure she was an 
incredible human being."

AJ was momentarily taken aback by Webb's sincerity.  It was most unusual and 
unexpected.  "Yes, she was, Clayton.  And thank you."

Harm stepped onto the curb with the bags.

"Rabb?" Webb said, annoyed.  What're *you* doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Webb," Harm said sarcastically.

"I specifically asked for Mac on this one," Webb continued.

"Mr. Webb," AJ began, "considering how many of your operations eventually 
wind up endangering the lives of my best people, you ought to be happy you 
got *anyone*."

Webb spoke carefully, knowing he walked a very thin line.  "Yes, Admiral, 
and I do appreciate you and Rabb being here.  But I requested Mac for a 
reason, so unless one of you has developed a fluency in Farsi that I'm not 
aware of--"

"Webb," Harm interrupted, "are you gonna get to the point sometime today?"

"Get there quickly," AJ said sternly, "because frankly, I couldn't care less 
about the CIA right now.  I'm here for one reason and one reason only - to 
find out how the hell this could've happened, *again*.  And to my daughter 
no less."

"Okay, we'll get down to business, but not out here on the street.  The 
cobblestones have ears.  We'll go to my room."

The three men stopped in the hotel's cafe for coffee on their way to Webb's 
room.  The trip North from Naples had worn out Harm and AJ, and Webb was 
exhausted from days of preliminary investigating.  When they got to his 
room, Webb made sure to employ the deadbolt lock on the door.

It looked like a regular room, with certain modifications.  Special phone 
devices, wires, and myriad unidentifiable gadgets lay spread across a large 
table.

"What is this," Harm asked, "James Bond's Italian vacation home?"

"Very funny, Harm.  The Agency has rooms like this in hotels in every major 
city in the world, and you can be sure our foreign counterparts have them 
all over the States.  We scratch their backs, they scratch ours.  CIA, 
Scotland Yard, Interpol.  Mutual need...it's a beautiful thing."

Webb," AJ said, "Naples was a beautiful thing, and right now, you're making 
me wish I was back there."  AJ was a man of little patience, and that went 
double when dealing with Clayton Webb.

"Okay, then let's get to it.  We already know Al Qaeda's responsible for 
this.  They've confessed, and what's more, they're proud of it."

"Yesterday's news, Webb," Harm said.  "Tell us something we don't know."

Webb looked back and forth between AJ and Harm, and sighed loudly.

"Look," Harm said, "this may be 'need-to-know,' but if you want our help, 
then clearly, we need to know."

Webb hesitated.  Finally, he relented.  "All right.  It's not so much about 
the Principe di Savoia, it's about what might be next."

"And your sources think that might be...." AJ prodded.

"The Pope."

"The Pope?!" Harm exclaimed.

"Rabb, you're damn lucky these walls are soundproof.  Yes, the Pontiff. Or 
Turin, at the Olympics."

"And just how reliable are these sources?" AJ asked.

"Incorruptible."

"But come on, the Pope?" Harm asked again.  "That might be going too far, 
even for them."

"You're too kind, Harm.  These people don't know the meaning of 'too far.'  
They have no respect for anyone - not even themselves, and certainly not the 
symbol of all that's holy for millions of other people."

Trying to remain calm and focused, AJ stayed on track as to their role in 
all this.  "All right.  Assuming we believe this, what does the CIA have to 
do with any of it?"

"Mutual need rears it's pretty head again.  In a nutshell, if we go to war 
with Iraq - with or without a UN endorsement - it'll be very lonely.  We 
don't exactly have a ton of friends lining up to join us in the desert or 
downtown Baghdad.  It is in the interest of United States national security, 
and possible war objectives, to secure all the allies we can.  If we can 
help thwart a papal assassination, or who knows what matter of destruction 
at the Olympics, the Italians would be hard-pressed to turn their backs on 
us if we should need them in the Gulf."

"And you think it's that easy?  Tit for tat?"

"No, Admiral.  It's precisely because it's *not* that easy that we need to 
help as much as we can.  Prime Minister Berlusconi was one of the first to 
express his nation's outrage and solidarity with us on September 11th.  We 
need to keep our international friendships in good standing.  It's essential 
for global security, it's good policy, and hell, its just good sense."

Harm and AJ looked at each other.

"Look," Webb continued, "I know the Navy is cut and dry, orders are orders.  
The proper course of action is usually pretty clear.  But diplomacy, 
especially right now, is a bit more...delicate."

AJ's anger was simmering, almost to a boil.  "Delicate? A few days ago what 
was left of my only child's body was pulled from beneath a pile of rubble 
and was so banged up and burned that she had to be identified by a dental 
X-ray, and you're telling me to be delicate?!"

"Sir," Harm said to AJ, pulling him aside. "I'm certainly no member of the 
Clayton Webb fan club either, but that's exactly why we're here - because of 
what happened to Francesca.  To make sure it doesn't happen ever again."

AJ shook his head in frustration.  "Harm, do you honestly believe it'll 
never happen again?  That we'll get them all?  For God's sake, the ones that 
aren't hiding in caves we'll probably never locate are living among us in 
the U.S., taking flying lessons at *our* schools, or they're plotting their 
next move right here in Italy.  Or Germany.  Or quite possibly anywhere else 
around the world."

"So what, then? We're supposed to let them?" Harm challenged.  "Nobody said 
this would be an easy fight, but that doesn't mean we can't win, and for 
sure it doesn't mean we shouldn't even try."

AJ sighed heavily.  "I'm just wondering what we think we're doing.  We - us, 
the United States, everybody.  I mean, the Cole, September 11th, and now 
this.  I'm beginning to wonder if we'd be better off just enjoying the hell 
out of life until they pick off the whole world, one person at a time."

Harm was lost for words.  AJ had been affected so deeply by the recent 
event, even more so than by the destruction at the Pentagon, for obvious 
reasons.  Normally, he was a man guided by a mission, driven by a sense of 
purpose.  And just when that sense should've been strongest, his feelings of 
guilt and despair were making everything seem hopeless.

"Admiral, Sir, we've had a long flight and an uncomfortable cab ride.  Maybe 
it would be a good idea if we found our room and took a breather for a 
while."

AJ looked at his junior officer skeptically.  "Okay on finding our room, but 
as for resting, I'd rather find the hotel bar and get myself a stiff drink."

Harm nodded.  "That'll work too, Sir."

"Mr. Webb," AJ said, turning back to him, "give us a few hours to clear our 
heads and then come get us.  I suspect you'll have no trouble finding out 
our room number."

"206.  Green carpet, burgundy curtains, painting of the Alps on the wall 
above the desk."

Harm shook his head.  "Y'know, maybe if the CIA stopped wasting its time 
spying on people like *us*..."

Webb rolled his eyes.  "See you in a few hours."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harm and AJ returned to the hotel's ground floor and gave their bags to a 
bellhop who would put them inside their room while they headed to the 
hotel's lounge.  Harm nursed a beer for a long time while AJ drank enough 
scotch to calm his nerves.

"Sir?" Harm asked. "Can I ask you a question?"

AJ looked at the empty glasses in front of him.  "Go ahead.  In fact, now 
would probably be the best time to ask me anything.  In vino veritas, eh 
Harm?"

"Uh, yeah, Sir...I guess."  Maybe now would be a good time to ask about 
moving Lt. Singer's desk into a broom closet, he mused to himself.

"So what's on your mind, son?"

Harm hesitated.  "Well Sir, it's about the Colonel."

"Mackenzie, I assume?"

"Yes Sir.  If...if you don't mind me asking, why didn't you ask her to come 
out here instead of me?"

AJ's eyes went wide.  "Are you questioning my orders, Commander?!" he asked 
loudly, suddenly agitated again.

"No Sir!"  Harm was taken aback by the Admiral's shift in attitude.  "It's 
just...well, Webb's right - the Colonel's fluent in Farsi and has more 
experience with this sort of thing than I do."

"And?" AJ prodded, knowing there was more to this.  Harm always wanted to be 
in the center of the action.  He would never question his being part of 
something like this unless there was something else going on.

"And...she was pretty upset before I left Washington.  She thinks you don't 
trust her to come through in the clutch.  That you have no faith in her."

"Dammit!" AJ yelled, setting his glass down on the bar with a bang.  He got 
up from his stool, walked over a few feet, and gripped the edge of the bar 
to steady himself, his knuckles white from his tight, frustrated grip.  
"What is it with her?  Why does she even care?  Why is she so damn eager to 
risk her life?"

Harm said nothing, but smiled to himself, having asked Mac exactly the same 
question.

AJ continued his tirade.  "For God's sake, she ought to be a model, not a 
Marine.  I wish Mac would just...just..."

"What, Sir?"

"Never mind." AJ let out a deep breath, and Harm could see him relax a bit.  
"Mac's not here, and if I have anything to do with it, she won't ever be 
anywhere near anything like this again."

"Sir?" Harm was completely confused.

"Drop it Harm.  This is between me and Mac, and I'll work it out with her 
when we're back in Washington."

Harm only nodded, looking at his beer instead of at the man whose temper was 
doing 180's every other minute.  After they paid the bill, they went up to 
their room.  AJ chose the bed closest to the door, and after taking off his 
shoes, he laid down and fell asleep without another word to Harm.

Good, Harm thought, he needs the rest.  Between things with Francesca, 
Marcella, and who-knows-what with Mac, AJ was likely to go off the deep end 
very soon.  And the alcohol certainly hadn't worked any wonders.

Harm wasn't tired, and it was still the middle of the day, so he decided to 
get a look at the scene of the bombing, just a few blocks away.  The few 
glimpses he'd gotten of the city so far told Harm that Milan was a gorgeous 
place.  But it was impossible to enjoy the beauty, knowing that terror and 
destruction were the reasons he was there.  The hotel had stood right near 
the city's Central Station.  It was a miracle that the white marble building 
had sustained almost no damage.  It was a main thoroughfare for millions of 
commuters and tourists.  Armed soldiers now stood guard outside and inside 
the building.  Precautions like this were becoming more common in major 
cities all around the world.  Far too common, Harm thought.  They were 
necessary, he knew, but he hated that they were.

Guards also surrounded the grounds where the hotel had been, and several 
uniformed investigators were milling about, securing areas and tagging 
various items to be identified later.  It was an overwhelming, seemingly 
unending task.  Harm could scarcely imagine what it had been like in New 
York City the year before.  That had to be five times the size of this.  He 
knew he would never get the true perspective from the images on television 
and in magazines, but knowing how much greater the scale had been in 
Manhattan, he realized suddenly that it was a miracle anyone had survived at 
all.  An absolute miracle.

He stood there for a while, hypnotized by the scene.  He finally noticed 
some other people standing not too far from him, also taking in the sight.  
All of them, even the men, were crying.  He didn't know if they were 
tourists, or if they'd lost someone in the explosion.  But he felt a wave of 
guilt wash over him.  He hadn't cried at all, not even for Francesca.  The 
closest he'd come to it was when Mac had come to his apartment to say 
goodbye and let her own tears fall.  Seeing Mac cry was at the top of a very 
short list of things that tugged at Harm's heart enough to make him cry.

But here, looking at the scene of destruction and human loss before him, he 
was unable to shed a single tear.  Ostensibly, he knew that people grieve in 
unique ways, but deep down, he felt like a first-class jerk.  If he was 
going to help Webb, he needed to know exactly what they were dealing with, 
but still.  He suddenly felt like a kind of cruel, sick voyeur; a spectator 
gawking at the rubble, like people on a highway who slow down take some 
demented look at a horrible accident scene.

He went back to the hotel and tried to fall asleep, hoping against hope that 
he wouldn't see those twisted images before his closed eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1900 EST
J. PAUL'S RESTAURANT
GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON, DC

Mac entered the restaurant and pulled off her gloves as she scanned the room 
for her dinner date.  Gunny had been watching the door, waiting for her to 
arrive, and when he saw her, he stood up and waved his hand.  Mac saw him 
and made her way to his table.

"Good evening, Colonel," Gunny said with a bright smile.

"Hey Gunny." She untied her scarf and unbuttoned her black pea coat.  Just 
as she was about to slip it off her shoulders, Gunny stepped behind her.  
"Let me get that for you, Ma'am," he said, and he helped her out of the coat 
and draped it over the back of her chair.

"Thanks," she said with a small smile.

Before Gunny returned to his seat, he got a good look at her.  She was 
dressed in black dress pants and a wine-colored sweater that hugged her 
figure in all the right places.

"Wow," Gunny said, his eyes taking her in.  Mac blushed.  "I 
mean...uh...Ma'am..."

Mac chuckled.  "Don't worry.  We're out of uniform.  You can loosen up, and 
please, call me Mac."

"Okay.  You look incredible, Mac.  If you don't mind me saying so."

"Not at all.  I'm flattered, in fact."  It had been a long time since a man 
had complimented her so unabashedly.  She'd forgotten how nice it felt to be 
noticed that way, even if it was by a younger, enlisted man.  Usually, she 
had to focus so hard to even the playing field with the male officers that 
she did her best to hide her femininity.  It felt good to let that side of 
herself show now and then.

"Well good.  You deserve it," Gunny said, and he spread the linen napkin 
across his lap.  He looked around the restaurant for a second and added, "In 
fact, I think I may be out with the prettiest woman in Georgetown."

Mac blushed again.  "I wouldn't go *that* far."

"Why not? It's true."

She smiled.  "Did you take me out so you could push for a promotion?  You 
know I have no say in that, right?"

Gunny smiled.  "I know you don't.  I mean, a promotion would be nice, but 
really, I just thought you could use a little break.  A fun night out."

"Am I that bad of an acting JAG?"

"No Ma'am.  I mean Mac.  Definitely not.  But you have seemed a 
bit...stressed."

Mac sighed.  "It's not an easy job.  I can't wait 'til the Admiral gets 
back."

"And Commander Rabb?" Gunny probed.

She smiled.  "You said it, not me."

When the waitress came by, they ordered an appetizer to share, and Mac 
ordered a tonic with lime to go with Gunny's beer.  After a little while, 
the waitress returned with the appetizer and Mac's drink.  Gunny held up his 
beer, inviting Mac to join him in a toast.

He said, "To the few. The proud…"

"The Marines," Mac finished.

"Semper Fi," Gunny said, and they clinked their glasses together before 
taking a drink. They observed the people around them and engaged in pleasant 
conversation for a while until their food came.  Gunny inhaled deeply when 
the waitress brought over their dinner.  "God this smells good," he said, 
indicating his hamburger with hickory sauce and cheddar cheese.

"This too," Mac said, looking at her plate of seafood and pasta in alfredo 
sauce.

Gunny bit into his burger.  "Mmmm," he moaned.

Mac smiled.  "Finally, someone who enjoys the fine foods in life."

Gunny laughed.  "Yeah, well, sometimes a juicy burger just hits the spot, 
y'know?"

"Definitely."  They continued to eat in silence, content just to enjoy the 
good food and good company.  After a while, Gunny noticed that Mac had 
barely touched her food.  She kept rearranging the pasta on her plate, but 
hadn't actually eaten much.  She twirled her fork in her hand and a few 
strands of pasta fell to the plate.

"You miss him, don't you," Gunny said.  It was more of an observation than a 
question.

Mac looked up at him.  "Is it that obvious?"

Gunny smiled and pointed to her full plate.  "It's okay Ma'am.  I mean, Mac. 
  He can take care of himself.  Not to mention the Admiral's with him."

"I know.  Still, I wish he'd call."

"Why don't you call him?"

"He's involved in God-only-knows what kind of investigation.  I don't want 
to interrupt anything.  He'll call me if he wants to."

Gunny shook his head and chuckled.

Mac's eyes narrowed.  "What's so funny?"

"You, Mac.  I mean, you've known Comman--Harm a lot longer than I have, but 
sometimes I think you hardly know him at all."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, first, Harm's a guy.  That makes opening up pretty hard in the first 
place.  And second, he's Harm, which makes it next to impossible."

"In English please," she teased.

"Think about how long it took him to do what he did at your engagement 
party."

"How...how did you..."

"Tiner, Ma'am.  We talk a lot.  Not that I was surprised.  I've been rooting 
for you two for as long as I can remember."

"Really?  Gunny, I'm...that's sweet."

"Well, it's the truth.  And about Harm, well, sometimes with him, you 
literally have to spell things out.  Sometimes he misses what's right in 
front of him.  You can lead a horse to water, and you *can* make him drink.  
You might just have to hold his head under the water until he does."

They shared a good laugh from that, and Mac regained some of her appetite.  
Talking about Harm made him seem not so far away, and she felt some of her 
gloom dissipate.

"I really appreciate this Gunny," she said.  "I'm having a good time."

"Me too, Mac, and I'm glad.  You seriously did need a break.  But the fun's 
not over yet.  How are you at pool?"

"Terrible."

"Good," Gunny said, "then we'll have even more to laugh about."  When Mac 
finished eating, Gunny paid the bill and they headed down M Street.  The 
block was lined with exclusive boutiques and upscale chain stores, as well 
as bars and ethnic restaurants.  It was an ideal area for students and 
working people alike to spend an evening.

On their way down the street, they chatted good-naturedly and exchanged news 
about Chloe and Gunny's sisters.  Their breath was white in the cold, and 
Mac watched it float up and disappear, like smoky ghosts of the moments 
passing between them.  Sometimes, just when you needed them, friends came 
from surprising places.

They found a bar that wasn't too crowded.  Gunny ordered another beer and 
Mac stuck with her tonic water.  They waited a few minutes while another 
group finished a round of billiards.  When the table was available, Mac 
broke and Gunny took the first shot.

"Four in the side pocket," he said, and the ball went right in.

"I am in way over my head here," Mac said.

"You'll be fine, Mac.  I'll help you."  He called his next two shots and the 
balls went in as predicted.  After eyeing a ball from several angles, he 
lined up his next shot.

As he was about to shoot, Mac said, "So what *did* Tiner tell you anyway?"

Gunny jerked and missed the ball completely.  "What?"

She smiled.  "You heard me. You said Tiner talked to you, about that 
night...my engagement party."

He hesitated, and then a smile spread across his face.  "Well, he didn't 
tell me anything I hadn't already figured out.  I mean, you two were out 
there together all night, while his girlfriend and your fiancé were inside 
filling up on wine and trying not to notice."

"And?"  Mac knew there was more.

"And...he said when he went to bring you inside for the cake, you were 
wearing Harm’s jacket, and the two of you looked really close.  He could 
feel the electricity.  Anyway, he said the Commander was none too pleased 
when he interrupted you."

Mac nodded, remembering that moment, and the moment after it, when she 
thought it was the first and last passionate kiss Harm would ever let 
himself give her.  And how grateful she was now, knowing that wasn't the 
case.

"All right," Mac said, shaking it off.  "The express train to memory lane 
has made its last run of the evening."

"Okay then, show me what you're made of, Colonel," Gunny said, pointing to 
the pool table.

Mac took a shot, and it was a scratch.  "Your form is all wrong," Gunny 
said.

"Y'know, I'd do much better at this if this was an M-16," Mac said, holding 
up her cue.

Gunny laughed.  "Oh, I believe that."  He put his hand on her back and led 
her back to the table.  "If you don't mind."

"No, I can use all the help I can get."

He leaned over her and helped her line up the shot properly.  Her body was 
so warm and her light vanilla perfume intoxicated his senses.  Rabb, you 
lucky bastard, he thought.  He wondered if Harm knew how special this lady 
was, in more ways than he could count.  More than once, since he'd come to 
JAG, he'd found himself imagining that if things were different, he and Mac 
might have a relationship very different from Gunnery Sergeant and 
Lieutenant Colonel.  But he had a great deal of respect for Harm too, as an 
officer and as a friend, and it was that, more than anything else, that kept 
him from getting too jealous.  Still, she was an incredible woman.

Mac's shot went in perfectly.  "Hey!" she said with a big smile.  "We make a 
great team!  You ever consider becoming a lawyer?"

Gunny laughed.  "With all due respect, not in a million years.  Especially 
if I'd have to face you or the Commander in court.  I'd rather take my 
chances with a live hand grenade."

"Sometimes it feels that way with Harm," Mac said, recalling all the tricks 
he'd pulled out of his sleeve over the years.

After a second round of drinks and another game of pool, they walked back to 
where they had parked their cars near the restaurant.

"Look, Mac, he's okay.  And I'm sure he misses you, too."

"Maybe," she said, studying her car keys.

"Not maybe," he replied, touching her arm to get her attention.  "I'm sure.  
You know him.  Even if he doesn't say it."

"Why can't he say it?  It's not a big deal, and it would mean so much."

Gunny looked into her eyes.  "It's just not his way.  He's always let his 
actions speak louder than his words.  He's just not much for talking about 
things like that.  Renee couldn't get past that and it drove a wedge between 
them.  Don't let the same thing happen to you.  He loves you and wants to be 
with you, even if he hasn't said it in the exact way you want to hear it."

Mac looked at him.  "Forget lawyer.  Have you ever thought about being a 
therapist?"

Gunny laughed.  "Too many whiny people with problems, and too much access to 
ammunition."

Mac laughed.  "Thanks for tonight, Gunny.  I had a great time.  I really 
needed this."

"My pleasure, Mac.  Anytime," he said.  "Get home safe."  He stood in the 
cold and watched until her car was out of sight.  Damn lucky fool, he 
thought again of Harm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Webb came to get Harm and AJ, the three men spent the remainder of the 
day and all of the next assisting the Italian authorities.  Evidence found 
in the rubble days before indicated that the explosive device had been 
detonated remotely, and the authorities wasted no time in tracking down the 
people responsible.  It proved somewhat easier than they had feared, because 
ever since September 11th, they already had several leads on possible terror 
cells operating in Italy.  Not to mention the terrorists were proud of their 
actions, and seemed honored to claim responsibility for them.

Harm and AJ gave all the advice they could on how to prosecute the 
individuals, while Webb did all he could to lend American intelligence 
resources to help discover and avert the future plans of Al-Qaeda to wreak 
havoc to the Olympics and or the Catholic Church.

The Italians were grateful for the assistance, even if they were a bit taken 
back by AJ's zealousness.  Once they had all gotten down to business, AJ was 
his usual, professional self, committed completely to bringing his 
daughter's murderers to justice.  If not for his loyalty to the law, not to 
mention the iron bars surrounding the guilty men, he would've killed them 
all himself, in the most painful, torturous way he knew how.

When they had done all they could do, AJ and Harm got up to leave.  AJ 
handed Webb a photo of Francesca from his wallet.  In it, she was smiling a 
bright smile, and the setting sun behind her danced like a flame over her 
long auburn hair.

"Mr. Webb...Clayton," AJ said, keeping the moment personal, "Carry this with 
you.  Don't ever forget why you're doing this.  Please."

Webb studied the photo and nodded, meeting AJ's eyes.  "I won't, AJ.  
Never."  It was more sincere than AJ or Harm had ever known the sneaky Webb 
to be.  His schemes were usually all over the place, and rarely went 
smoothly, but he was an honorable man, and a trusted friend when it counted.

"I want every one of those SOB's nailed to the wall."

"They will be, AJ.  On that you have my word."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harm and AJ arranged for a flight back to Naples for a few days ahead.  AJ 
wanted to spend some more time with Marcella and help her sort through 
Francesca's affairs.  But Marcella wanted to see him just as much, and she 
surprised him and Harm at their hotel the next morning.

"I couldn't let the two of you wander around by yourselves and get lost, 
could I?  I visited Francesca all the time.  I know Milano like, how do you 
say, the back of my hand?"

Harm smiled.  "Well, in that case, Ma'am, thank you.  I'm sure we can use an 
expert tour guide."

"And a beautiful one at that," AJ said, and he brought Marcella's hand to 
his lips for a gentle kiss.

Marcella blushed.  "Please Harmon, call me Marcella."

The three shared a breakfast of delicious, fresh-baked pastries and 
cappuccino.  Marcella watched as Harm licked the cream from one of the flaky 
pastries.  She smiled.  "AJ tells me you don't like to eat things like 
this?"

"Once in a while, I do.  Especially here, where they’re authentic and 
fresh."  He swept his arm around, indicating the small, homey cafe they were 
in.  "Very different from the pre-packaged stuff at the Stop n' Shop."

"I'll second that," AJ said, and he bit into a raspberry-filled pastry.

After finishing their breakfast, they lingered over the coffee.  Finally, 
Marcella said, "Well, we don't have a lot of time, so we should go now and 
start exploring.  So much to see here."

That was a huge understatement, Harm decided hours later.  They had been on 
their feet all morning and afternoon.  They stopped for lunch and to decide 
what else they wanted to see.

Harm was mesmerized by the city.  It was an incredible confluence of 
medieval and renaissance architecture, juxtaposed with modern buildings and 
transportation systems.  They had started the morning with a metro ride to 
the Piazza Duomo, the heart of the city.  Standing in the plaza, looking up 
at the magnificent, towering gothic display, Harm felt very small.  In awe 
of the building looming before him, he felt the same pang of insignificance 
he sometimes felt when flying.  Seeing the horizon from a Tomcat, or people 
tiny as ants, he felt minuscule in the grand scheme of things.  Sometimes it 
was a welcome feeling, like his problems weren't so big.  And at other 
times, it was scary as hell.

Harm, AJ, and Marcella took many pictures to preserve the memories.  It was 
the maiden voyage of AJ's digital camera.

"I hardly know how to work this thing," AJ grumbled.  "And they make the 
print in the instruction book so damn small."

"I can take a look at it, if you'd like, Sir."

"No, it's okay.  I'll just take pictures and make Tiner figure out what the 
heck to do with them when we get back.  Poor kid's job description gets 
longer every day."

After admiring the Duomo, the trio strolled through the Galleria Vittorio 
Emanuele and observed the impressive statues and monuments.  All around the 
area were renaissance churches, and even streets and buildings that dated 
back to the 13th Century.  Harm was always fond of the profound history in 
Washington's government buildings, but they all paled in comparison to what 
he saw in Milan.  So much of what he was seeing that morning had been 
erected centuries before America was even a glimmer in anyone's eye.

They enjoyed a late lunch and gave their legs a much-needed rest.

"Mac would really love it here," Harm said absently.

"Ah, your Marine."

Harm smiled.  "Don't make me go on again about how she's not really 'mine.'"

"From what AJ has told me," Marcella said, "she would be if you asked her."

Harm bit his lower lip before answering.  "It's not that simple."

"Oh, but it's very simple.  If you love her and she loves you, it's easy.  
You men always have to make simple things complicated."

"And Mac always makes complicated things too sim--" he laughed at himself, 
remembering the last time he'd said that.  "Never mind."

AJ was content to sit back and watch his ex-wife challenge Harm.  Maybe if 
enough people drilled it into his head, he would finally see the light.

"Well, if you think Mac would love Milano, why don't we find something nice 
for you to bring back for her?" Marcella suggested.

Harm smiled.  "I think this time, just me coming back in one piece will be 
enough for her."

"You don't know women at all.  Marine or not, the way to a woman's heart is 
through clothes."

Harm chuckled, knowing Mac was a man in that sense.  The way to her heart 
was through her stomach.  Not that he minded.  He loved to cook, even if, 
for her, that meant steaks and fried chicken now and then.

"I know just the place, too," Marcella said.  When they were finished with 
lunch, they took the metro again to Via Monte Napoleone in the Quadrilatero 
della moda.  It was home to many of the original, exclusive fashion 
boutiques, Armani, Valentino, and Versace among them.

"It's like plebe summer all over again,," Harm mused to AJ.  "I am so 
completely in over my head here."

"You and me both," AJ agreed.

Marcella oooh'd and aaah'd as they walked along and she looked in every 
window they passed.  "What does Mac look like?  I want to know what her 
coloring is like so I can pick out something nice."

Before Harm could answer, AJ reached for his wallet and pulled out Mac's 
official service photo, in Marine dress before the American flag.  The 
opposite side of the photo holder held a picture of Francesca.

"Sir?" Harm said, surprised.

"Something wrong, Commander?  No reason I can't carry a picture of the best 
Chief of Staff I've ever had, is there?"

"Uh, no Sir."

"I'm glad you feel that way.  Now feel free to take a look at the others."  
A confused look crossed Harm's face, and he flipped through the photos AJ 
handed him.  There was one of AJ Roberts dressed in a baby sailor suit on 
his first birthday.  Another one was of AJ with Bud and Harriet at their 
wedding, and Harm saw another one that was AJ, him, and Mac, from an office 
Christmas party a few years back.

"You and Bud aren't much to look at, but it would've been rude to cut you 
out of the pictures with those beautiful girls.  And besides, it's still 
better than the phony pictures that came with the wallet."

Harm laughed.  "Whatever you say, Sir."

They continued walking past very exclusive shops.  "Oh!  This is perfect!" 
Marcella exclaimed.  She went inside to get a better look at something she 
saw in the window.  She held up a long cashmere scarf that looked like a 
dark watercolor painting.  "This would bring out her eyes so nicely!"

Harm looked at the pricetag.  Bug her eyes out is more like it, he thought.  
"Uh, Ma'am, Mac's very laid back.  This isn't quite her...style."

"Nonsense," she replied. "She doesn't wear a uniform every minute of every 
day."

"Well, no, but she's more the jeans and sweatshirt type."

"Which is why she would love something so lovely and out of the ordinary for 
her."

"Okay, you've got me there.  But still.  Maybe something 
less...extravagant."

"Don't be silly Harmon.  This will be my gift for you to give your Mac."

Harm shook his head.  "I couldn't let you do that.  Really, I can just bring 
her a snowglobe of the city."

"And have her smash it over your head?  Harmon, don't be ridiculous.  You 
were so kind to come out here and help AJ and I, and...for Francesca."  Her 
eyes began to tear a little.  "Please.  It will make me feel good to buy 
something beautiful for someone so special to you, and to AJ."

Harm sighed and looked at AJ.

"Sorry Harm.  I think she's right.  And I also know there's no point in 
arguing with her when she's like this."

"All right.  But I don't know how I'll ever repay you for it."

"No, no.  You've done so much already.  See?  You're making it complicated 
again."

Harm couldn't help but laugh at that.  Marcella paid for the scarf and had 
it wrapped in an elegant gift box.

"Thank you again, Marcella.  I just hope Mac doesn't come to expect gifts 
like this for every holiday after this."

"And if she does, you have my phone number," Marcella joked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They returned to their hotel to relax for a little while and change for 
dinner.  They found a nice restaurant no too far away.  AJ was the ultimate 
gentleman, taking Marcella's coat and pulling her seat out for her.  In 
fact, Harm had noticed discreet smiles and longing gazes between them all 
day long.  He was happy for AJ.  He knew he had strong feelings for 
Marcella, and that it had been logistics, more than a lack of love, that led 
to their divorce.

After seeing so many of AJ's relationships, for lack of a better term, crash 
and burn, it was nice to see him so clearly happy.  Although, Harm did worry 
about how hard it might be for AJ to leave her again.

Harm thoroughly enjoyed watching them reconnect after so many years.  It was 
just one more wonderful part of a great day, and the great meal before them. 
  He really could get used to this, Harm thought.  People here really seemed 
to savor everything - every bite of food, every word, every person around 
them.  Things moved a little slower than they did back home, where people 
ate empty calories, standing up, then rushed back to jobs most of them 
didn't like all that much anyway.  But that was the way in big American 
cities.  It seemed necessary when he was there, in the middle of it, but 
here, away from that hectic lifestyle, it struck him as almost pitiful.

He looked around the dimly lit restaurant, at all the people toasting each 
other, enjoying fine wines and cheeses.  This is what it's all about, Harm 
thought.  Being with the people you love.  Slowing down long enough to 
*live*, not just get by.

He found himself missing Mac just then.  A lot.  He had gone a few days 
without a free minute to think about her.  But she probably had enough going 
on as acting JAG and probably didn't have time to miss him.  If she did, she 
would've called.

After dinner, they returned to the hotel.  AJ wanted to gather his 
belongings and go to Francesca's apartment with Marcella.  She was going to 
stay there for a few days, and AJ didn't want her to be alone there, with 
all the memories.  The next day, they would begin sorting through her 
possessions, while AJ was still around to help.

Harm understood, and truth be told, he was glad to have some privacy for 
himself.  He took off his shoes and socks and stripped off his shirt.  He 
lay back on his bed and flipped through the TV stations, hoping to find 
something in English.  Lucky for him, the hotel subscribed to the BBC.  He 
was happy; it was ten times better than any American news broadcast.


SAME TIME
HARM'S APARTMENT
NORTH OF UNION STATION


Mac used the spare key Harm had given her a long time ago to open the door 
to his apartment.  He'd been gone over a week, and she didn't want his mail 
to pile up or food to spoil.  At least, that's what she told herself.  But 
when she entered and closed the door behind her, she knew why she had come.  
She could smell him there, feel his presence.  It was as if his spirit 
enveloped her as soon as she stepped in.

She actually did sort through the mail and threw away the junk.  She watered 
the plants, too.  Harm had bought a few small ones after he came back to JAG 
from flying.  One excuse down, a million to go, Mac mused.

She checked his refrigerator.  The lowfat milk had in fact gone sour.  She 
was surprised Harm hadn't gotten rid of the perishables before he left, but 
then, she remembered, he had been...otherwise occupied before his flight.

She was about to take a quick rest on the couch when she noticed the light 
blinking on Harm's answering machine.  She hated to invade his privacy, but 
listened to the messages in case there was something important.  The first 
was the Washington Post subscription telemarketers.  The second was Skates 
calling to say hello and catch up, but she said she'd try his cell phone 
after.

The third message she had to play twice to make sure she heard it right.  
She pressed the button with trepidation.

"Harm this is Marie Peterson, Renee's mother.  God, I hate to leave this on 
your machine, but I don't have your cell phone number."  There was a pause.  
"There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to say it.  Harm, 
Renee's dead.  The roads up here get pretty treacherous this time of year, 
and she was in a horrible accident.  She...she never had a chance."  Mac 
could hear her sniffling.  "Anyway, Cyrus is handling the arrangements, 
obviously.  The funeral's on Monday.  You can call the funeral home for the 
details.  612-555-6634.  I...I thought you'd want to know."

Mac sighed heavily and collapsed onto the leather couch.  She couldn't 
believe it.  There was never any love lost between she and Renee, but still, 
she never would've wished this on her.  Their tug-of-war for Harm aside, she 
was a friendly, fun-loving woman.  And so young.  So full of life.  Just 
like Francesca, Mac thought.  And then it hit her.  It was becoming like the 
coldest, gloomiest winter ever.  Vitality itself freezing over.

Knowing she was alone, she didn't hold back her tears.  She ran into Harm's 
bedroom, kicked off her shoes, buried herself under the covers, and had a 
good cry.

After a few minutes, she heard her cell phone ringing in her purse in the 
other room.  She rushed to get it, and when she answered, she was slightly 
out of breath.

"Hello?"

"Hey Mac!" Harm said cheerfully.

"Harm, it's nice to hear your voice."

"Are you crying, Mac?"

She sniffled.  "No, why?"

"You don't...sound right.  You sure everything's okay?  Lieutenant Singer's 
not giving the acting JAG too hard a time, is she?"

"Well, yes, but that's nothing new.  So, how are *you*?  And how's the 
Admiral holding up?"

"The Admiral's great, Mac.  More than great, actually.  I hate to tell you 
this, but I think he's going to end things with Meredith when he gets home."

"What?"

"Yeah.  Things have really heated up between him and Marcella, believe it or 
not."

"Really? After all this time?"

"Yeah.  In fact, he's alone with her at Francesca's apartment right now."

"Wow.  Well, good for him, I guess.  But I wonder.  I mean, is she going to 
leave Italy?"

"I don't think they've gotten that far yet."

"Well, keep me posted.  I want details, Flyboy, details."

"Yes Ma'am."

"So how about you?"

"I'm fine," Harm replied.  "Just tried to stay out of the way during the 
funeral and after at Marcella's house.  Didn't want to make a nuisance of 
myself.  But Marcella's been so hospitable and generous.  She came here 
yesterday to give us the grand tour of Milan."

"Speaking of Milan--"

"Webb sends his regards."

"So I gather.  Is everything...going well there?"

"Yeah, as well as can be expected.  We did everything we could, and Webb was 
surprisingly tactful."

"That's good to hear.  Though, knowing Webb, it's just him buttering you up 
for ten more favors."

Harm laughed.  "I don't think so, Mac.  Not this time.  He seemed really 
intent on finding these guys, for Francesca's sake."

"So the Admiral's doing okay, then?"

"It seems that way.  I mean, he has his moments, but he's been a rock for 
Marcella."  He paused for a minute.  "Hey, Mac-"

"Yeah?"

"About the Admiral. I…I…asked him why he didn't bring you out here."

"You didn't!"

"I did."

"Harm!  Now I feel like some little girl who's whining that everyone else 
gets to go outside and play except me."

"Mac, believe me, he doesn't see it that way.  He refused to talk to me 
about you at all.  But he said he'd work it out with you when we get back to 
Washington."

"Any idea when that might be?"

"Soon.  Two more days at the most.  The Admiral wants to stay and help 
Marcella go through Francesca's things."

"Do they really want to tackle that so soon?"

"Apparently.  The Admiral doesn't want Marcella to have to do it by herself, 
so as long as he's here..."

"Right."

"So how are things with you?  How's JAG?"

"Oh, you know, same old-same old.  Starting to get pretty cold here, 
though."

"It's been chilly here, too, but still nice enough to be outside.  It's 
beautiful here, Mac."

"Let me guess.  You don't ever want leave and come back to your 
crime-infested neighborhood."

"Whoa Mac, back up.  I do love what I've seen of Milan, but I also 
love...Washington."  He couldn't see Mac roll her eyes on the other end of 
the line.  "And if I remember right, there are some kisses with my name on 
them waiting for when I get back."

"There are?" she teased.

"Maaaac," Harm whined.

"All right.  Yes, plenty of kisses.  Long, warm ones."

He could hear the smile in her voice.  "Mmm…I do like the sound of that.”  
Before losing himself in thoughts of having Mac in his arms, Harm knew he 
should take care of business.  “Hey Mac, do me a favor.  If you get a 
chance, can you stop by my apartment and take in the mail?  Also, I think my 
milk may have gone bad by now."

She giggled.  "Already taken care of, on both counts."

"Trespasser," he joked.

"It's not trespassing if I have my own key."

"Whatever.  Hey, did you happen to check my messages?"

"I was just writing them down."

"You're there now?"

"Standing in your living room as we speak."

"Rrrreeeaaally?  What are you wearing?"

"Harm!"

"You're right.  Plenty of time for that in person."

"Watch it, Flyboy.  Customs might not let you check that cocky attitude back 
into the country."

"Ha ha.  So who called?"

"Post telemarketer."

"Delete."

"Skates."

"Yeah, she got me on my cell a few days ago."

"And...and that's it."

"You sure?  Just those two?"

"Sorry.  Must be a quiet week for your fan club."

"Yeah," Harm played along.  "I feel so unpopular."

"No news is good news, right?"

"I guess so."  There was a moment of silence.  "Mac, are you sure 
everything's all right?"

"Sure, why are you asking again?"

"I don't know.  You sound a little...off.  And I worry about you."

"Is that why Gunny took me to dinner last night?"

"He did?!  Hey, I only asked him to look out for you while I was gone.  How 
he went about handling that responsibility was up to him."

"Great.  So now I'm like some little kid that has to be watched at all 
times?  Y'know, I could buy one of those kiddie leashes and attach myself to 
Gunny or Sturgis if it would make you feel better."

"Get a grip, Mac.  Can I help if I care about you?"

"You'd probably be better off if you didn't."

"Mac, what are you talking about?  I can hear it in your voice.  I know 
something's not right, and when I get back, I'm going to find out what it 
is."

You sure will, Mac thought.

"Mac, why don't you stay at my place for a while and unwind?  You know where 
everything is if you want some tea or something.  Better yet, get out of 
your uniform, put on one of my sweatshirts, get under the covers and take a 
nap."

Mac eyed his bed, the blankets already in disarray from before.  "That 
sounds so good."

"Okay, then just one rule - no crackers in bed.  The crumbs would drive me 
crazy when I'm back."

"I could think of someplace else for you to sleep," she teased.

Harm was pleasantly surprised.  "Be careful, Mac, I just might hold you to 
that."

They both talked a good talk, but whether they would walk the walk remained 
to be seen.

"Keep me posted if you need anything," Mac said.  "And give my best to the 
Admiral and Marcella."

"I will.  Oh!  And Mac, about the flowers, from JAG.  You should've seen the 
Admiral.  It really meant a lot to him."

"I'm glad.  I'll see you soon, Harm."

"Ditto."  I miss you, he added after he heard Mac hang up.  He turned off 
the TV, and thought of Mac there in his apartment.  Not for the first time, 
he fell asleep to visions of Sarah Mackenzie's clothing on the floor beside 
his bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in Harm's apartment, Mac hung up the phone and stared at the answering 
machine.  It was Wednesday, and Renee's funeral was long since over.  There 
was no point in upsetting Harm with the news, especially since there was 
nothing he could do about it now.  One tragedy at a time, Mac thought.

Maybe they really were cursed.  She turned to the window and watched the sun 
set behind thick, gray clouds.  It was dark and desolate, and she felt the 
bad luck closing in on her.

She just wanted to curl up into a ball and forget everything for a little 
while.  So she took Harm's advice, and with the soft, warm fleece of a US 
Navy sweatshirt against her skin, she did exactly that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SAME TIME
FRANCESCA'S APARTMENT
MILAN, ITALY

AJ offered to open the door and be first to witness how their daughter had 
left things.  His heart sank as he looked around, and he turned back to take 
Marcella hand and lead her slowly inside.  She gripped his arm tightly, as 
if her hold on him was the only thing keeping her up.  Neither of them moved 
or said a word.  The room seemed frozen in time.  A half-eaten muffin on the 
kitchen counter.  Shoes scattered across the floor.  A coat draped over a 
chair.  Things she would never wear again.  A book with a bookmark halfway 
through.

"Marcella, are you sure you want to do this?" AJ whispered.  "You know 
there's no rush."

"We must do this, because I cannot do it alone."

He nodded slowly.  "All right."

Marcella took a seat on the sofa while AJ went over to throw away the stale 
muffin.

"NO!" Marcella shouted.  "No, don't touch anything!"  It hit her quickly how 
unprepared she was for this, how desperate to preserve every moment, every 
object exactly as Francesca had left it.  As if at any moment, she might 
come through the door and expect to find everything in order.

Marcella began to tremble with the first tears.  AJ sat next to her on the 
sofa and gathered her in his strong arms.  She cried harder than she ever 
had in her life.  At first, AJ rubbed her back and whispered comforting 
words to her.  But soon, he gave in to his own grief, and the former lovers 
held tight to each other, clinging to what was warm, and alive, and 
familiar.

Their instincts soon took over, and they were kissing passionately.  Not 
long after, their bodies and souls were reunited in a way they never 
imagined they would be after so many years.  Their lovemaking was intense 
and passionate, beautiful and tragic.  Their desperate hunger for the 
comfort of something known was satiated as they melted into one another, 
loving away the pain.

They spent the night that way, isolated in their quiet, private world.  
Marcella fell asleep with her head against AJ's chest, the steady beat of 
his heart like a soothing lullaby.  AJ held her tightly, reassuring himself 
that life still existed.  That maybe, he could survive this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TWO DAYS LATER
JAG HQ

Harm and AJ had been traveling for several hours, but with the time 
difference, it was just before 17:00 when their cab from the airport dropped 
them off at JAG headquarters.  Since they'd gotten back at a reasonable 
hour, they both wanted to stop at the office to get a handle on things so 
Monday wouldn't be such a rude awakening.

Mac was getting some files from Harriet in the bullpen when she looked up 
and saw AJ with Harm close behind.

"Attention on deck!" she commanded.  The staff snapped to attention.

AJ nodded.  "At ease," he said while he made his way briskly toward his 
office.  Before he got there, he noticed a palpable silence in the room, and 
he turned around.  His staff members were like deer frozen in headlights.  
Everyone was afraid to say or do anything, they were so unsure of his 
emotional state.  Little did they know it made him feel like more of a 
spectacle than he already was.  The nervous tension was only a reminder.

As AJ was about to turn into his office, someone called out.

"Um, Admiral?"

"Yes Gunny?"

Gunny smiled warmly.  "Welcome back, Sir."

AJ stared at him for a few seconds and broke into a smile of his own.  
"Thanks, Gunny."  Under his breath, unheard by anyone, he added, "And thank 
you, Victor, for realizing that I'm not going to break."

Mac followed quickly behind AJ and entered his office.  "Sir, just give me 
five minutes and I'll have all of my things out of here."

"No rush, Colonel," he said as he hung up his coat.  "I don't think I'll get 
much done today anyway.  Just wanted to stop by and make sure the place was 
still standing.  But it looks like I left the office in very capable hands."

Mac smiled.  "I did my best. Sir."

AJ sat down behind his desk and let out a long sigh.

"Uh, can I get you anything, Sir?" Mac asked tenuously.

"Two more weeks in Italy would be nice."

Mac chuckled.  "I don't think I quite have the authority to authorize that."

"Damn.  Can't blame a guy for trying."

"No Sir." Mac relaxed a little.  AJ seemed in good spirits, all things 
considered.  But she figured that was the result of time spent with 
Marcella.

"Colonel, do you have plans for dinner?"

"No Sir." Her response was immediate.  She didn't exactly need to consult 
her calendar.  Who would she possibly be going out with?

"Well, I find that hard to believe.  But Washington's loss is my gain.  That 
is, if you don't mind eating with an old man like me."

She smiled.  "No Sir.  I mean--" she stumbled over her words.

"It's okay, Mac.  I *am* old.  And please, no wisecracks about wine or 
cheese.  Fact is most things do not get better with age."  AJ waved his 
hand, dismissing the topic.  "Anyway, I figured you could brief me on what 
went on here while I was gone.  I have to make a call and touch base with 
the SecNav, but I'll be ready in about 30 minutes."

"Yes Sir."

On her way back to her office, she stopped first in Harm's.

"Hey Mac, come on in," Harm said.  He was flipping through a small stack of 
files on his desk.  "I thought Sturgis was supposed to cover these while I 
was away."

"He was, 'till he got assigned to an investigation in Pensacola."

"Pensacola?!" Harm exclaimed.

"Harm, calm down.  You were in Italy.  Besides, sometimes it's good to have 
someone down there who doesn't think aviators can do no wrong."

"So I'm left with these?"

"Don't worry.  Just a few young enlisteds giving locals overseas more 
reasons to hate us than they already have.  You better practice your plea 
bargaining skills."

"Great," he said, rolling his eyes.

Mac crossed her legs, folded her hands in her lap, and just watched Harm as 
he organized his desk.  Noticing the calm after a few minutes, he looked up 
at her.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing." She smiled.  "It's just nice to look at you again, that's all."

Harm leaned back in his chair and met her gaze.  "You're pretty easy on the 
eyes too, y'know."  Mac smiled and they were left in silence.

So," Harm began, "what are you doing tonight?"

"Dinner with the Admiral, and then maybe get started on my Christmas cards."

"Dinner with the Admiral?" His face wrinkled with confusion.

"A working dinner.  You were gone a while and he wants me to bring him up to 
speed."

"And then your Christmas cards."

"Yeah.  Another wild and crazy night for Sarah Mackenzie."

"Well, why don't you bring them over to my place.  We can fill them out 
together."

"Harm, I've known you for seven years.  In all that time, you never sent a 
single card to anyone."

"Then it's about time I started," he countered.

"Do you even have any cards?"

"I'm sure you'll let me borrow some."

Mac sighed.  "So I see you managed to sneak that attitude past Customs after 
all."

"Listen, the Admiral and I took a cab from the airport, so I'll get started 
on these cases for now, and when you're done with dinner, drop by here and 
pick me up."

Mac scowled in mock disgust.  "Will there be anything else, your Highness?"

"Yeah," he said, "we'll have to stop at your place first and get the cards."

"Cinderella, drive me home, Cinderella, get me Christmas cards," Mac whined.

"I have some shoes that could use a shining too, Mac."

"Bah humbug," she said as she stood up.  "I'll call you when we're done with 
dinner."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MAXINE'S GRILL
FALLS CHURCH, VA

After AJ and Mac ordered their meals, they briefly discussed what happened 
with Marcella.  Mac was happy to hear AJ talk about her.  He was close to 
glowing when her name came off his lips.  She would be visiting Washington 
in about two weeks.  After finishing things in Francesca's apartment, she 
would need the time away.

Eventually, they got around to JAG business.  "You did an outstanding job, 
Colonel.  Not to mention Lt. Singer's still alive.  I admire your 
restraint."

Mac laughed.  "I guess you missed the request I put on your desk to have her 
transferred.  It's just too bad we don't have a base in Antarctica."

AJ laughed.  "It is, isn't it.  Can't tell you how many times I dreamed 
about sending her there, myself."

They talked a little more about the office.  Bud was making progress with 
the prosthesis little by little every day.  And with Harm, AJ, and Sturgis 
all away, he had come to the office a few times to help with what he could.

"Harriet wasn't exactly thrilled about it, though," Mac told AJ.

He sighed.  "I know she means well, but she needs to lighten up a little.  
Being at JAG, being around his friends, feeling needed - that's the best 
kind of therapy there is."

Mac nodded, and they went about eating for a little while.  After a bit, AJ 
put down his fork and wiped his mouth with the linen napkin.  
"Colonel...Mac, you know I didn't arrange this dinner so we could talk about 
the office."

"Sir?"

AJ took a deep breath.  "Look, Harm told me you were upset that I chose him 
to go with me, and not you."

Mac's eyes went wide.  "Oh, Sir!  Please, never mind that.  I was out of 
line, and Harm never should've--"

"Never should've what?  Told me you think I have no faith in you?  That I 
don't trust your Marine training?"

"Did he say that?!" she burst out.  "Oh my God," she turned to a whisper.  
She was mortified.

"Yes, he did.  And I'm glad.  Because I had no idea you felt that way, and I 
have to nip it in the bud right now, because it's the furthest possible 
thing from the truth."

"Sir, please," Mac said, looking in all directions except AJ's.  "If we 
could just forget about--"

"I don't want to forget about anything, Mac.  What I want to do is get those 
crazy notions out of your head.  Now, where the heck did they come from in 
the first place?"

"Sir, really, I'd rather--"

"Don't make me have to order you.  I don't want to have to do that.  I 
thought we could talk this out like adults...like friends."

Boy, Mac thought, he could teach Harm a thing or two about opening up.  Why 
was it whenever she wanted to talk, Harm shut down, and when another man 
finally opened up, she wanted to shut down?  Oh, the sweet, horrible irony.

"Are you sure, Sir?"

He looked at her and folded his arms across his chest.

"All right."  Mac hardly knew where to begin.  "With all due respect, Sir.  
I know you're a firm believer in the value of women to the Service.  But you 
also know I've had to work twice as hard and outshine all the men around me 
to get where I am today."

AJ's eyes narrowed in concentration.  "Go on."

"Well, Sir, my record in the courtroom isn't exactly stellar.  I feel 
like...like you keep giving me hopeless cases.  I mean, the Sklar court 
martial?  That was like playing ice hockey in ballet slippers.  The only 
winnable cases you've given me in the past few months were when I sat second 
chair to Harm…Sir."

AJ considered his words for several seconds, but it felt like an eternity to 
Mac.  "Do you think this is news to me, Colonel?  That I'm not aware of what 
I've been doing?"

"*Are* you aware, Sir?"

AJ smiled, confusing Mac even further.  "Colonel, I didn't graduate from the 
Academy yesterday.  I've been around the block a few times."  He pointed to 
the gold stars on his shoulder boards.  "But you don't get these for being 
old, or for serving a lot of years.  You get them because you're a leader.  
Because you know how to challenge people, how to bring out their best and 
make them rise to the occasion."

"Sir?"  Mac was lost.

"Colonel, Rabb may be a Superman in the air, but you're my quarterback in 
the courtroom.  He's got an ego as big as all get-out, but the higher he is 
on himself, the harder his fall.  If he had half the cases I've given you 
over the years, we would've said goodbye to the Commander and hello to his 
civilian law career a long time ago.  God, Mac, I give you those dead-end 
cases because I know you can handle them.  Because unlike *him*, *you've* 
finally learned to leave what happens in court *in the courtroom* and move 
on like a respectable officer, not to mention a mature adult.

Mac was speechless, so AJ continued.  "Of course, if that's how you feel, 
then you can expect a big change in the tide on Monday."

"I wish that was the only thing, Sir."

"Okay, well, go on then.  That's why we're doing this."

"Well, Sir, again, respectfully.  About Milan.  The investigation.  I...I 
don't understand.  My fluency in Farsi--"

"Again, not something I'm unaware of."

"Then why--"

AJ cut her off.  "I had no idea what to expect when I went out there.  The 
minute we hear Al-Qaeda, all bets are off.  They're a powder keg waiting to 
explode.  It could've been like walking into a war zone.  I didn't want you 
anywhere near it."

"That's just it, Sir.  I'm a *Marine.*  I'm perfectly capable of-"

"Mac," he interrupted.  He stopped, took a deep breath, and continued in a 
gentler tone.  "Sarah, I've already lost one daughter.  And I'll be damned 
if I'm going to lose the other.  I know I can't control all of your 
assignments, but dammit, when I *do* have a say in it..."

It didn't take long before a tear rolled down Mac's cheek.  They were 
strange things, family ties.  Mac was closer to her friends at JAG than 
anyone she was related to by blood.  Deep down, she'd felt that way for a 
long time, but hearing it from AJ was a heartwarming surprise, and it made 
her very secure in the thought.  She wasn't the only lonely soul who had 
found the love of a family in an unexpected place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HARM'S APARTMENT
NORTH OF UNION STATION
1930 EST

In the powerful exchange with AJ, Mac had forgotten what awaited Harm when 
they got to his apartment.  Harm unlocked the door and put his suitcase 
down.  He let out a tired sigh.

"Man, it's good to be home."  He walked to the living room, put his cover on 
the coffeetable, and sank into the couch.

"Tired, Sailor?"

"Come on, Mac, my jet-lagged brain thinks it's 01:30."

"01:36," she corrected.

Harm rolled his eyes.  "Y'know, that's even less amusing when I'm half 
asleep."

"If you're really that tired, I can go."

"No," he replied immediately.  "Stay for a while.  Please."  He looked up at 
her with sad, puppy dog eyes.  Mac couldn't resist.  Between his eyes and 
his smile, he could get anything he wanted.

"All right, but put some coffee on, or soon you'll be snoring and I'm outta 
here."

"Okay.  Then while I make it, I have something for you."

"Well, I know it's a not a Christmas card."

"Are you looking a gifthorse in the mouth?"

"No.  Sorry."  She went out on a limb.  "But what if I kissed one on the 
mouth?"

Harm gave her a crooked smile, and in answer, his lips met hers.  When he 
pulled away, he said, "I ought to bring you gifts more often."

"Hey, no argument here."

Harm kissed Mac's hand with a quick peck, and went over to his suitcase and 
pulled out the beautifully wrapped gift box.  He handed it to her.

"You don't want me to wait 'till Christmas?" Mac asked.

"It's not a Christmas present.  In fact, it's sort of from Marcella."

"Marcella?"

"Yeah.  Between me and the Admiral, she learned a lot about you and thought 
you would like this."

"So, you talked about me?"

"Only the good stuff."

"Well, what else is there?" she joked.

"You don't really want me to answer that, do you?"

"Not as long as I'm within arm's reach of a deadly weapon."

Harm looked around. "What deadly weapon?"

Mac pointed to the coffeetable.  "If I hit you hard enough with that 
magazine..."

"Cute, Marine.  Real cute."  He got up to make the coffee, but turned around 
after two steps.  He took the magazine with him and eyed Mac with pretend 
caution.

He was grinding the coffee from fresh beans.  "Well, go ahead.  Open it."

Mac took her time, untying the silver ribbon methodically.  Harm looked over 
to her.  "Oh, come on.  Just rip the paper and get to it already."

"That's no fun," she replied.  "The longer the suspense, the sweeter the 
reward."

"You really believe that?"

"We'll see," she said with a teasing smile.

Finally, she had the package open and peeled away the tissue paper to reveal 
the extravagant scarf.

"Oh, Harm!  It's gorgeous!"  She held it up to examine the colors.  She 
smoothed the fabric along her cheek.  "Oh my gosh, this is sooo soft!  They 
should make sheets out of cashmere."

"Why? So you could complain that you can't afford them?"

"A girl can dream."

"There's a mirror in the bathroom if you want to see how it looks."

Mac went into the bathroom to model the scarf for herself, so she didn't 
hear it when Harm started listening to his messages.  The blinking light had 
caught his eye when he set the coffee to brew.

Mac emerged from the bathroom with the scarf arranged artfully around her 
neck and shoulders.  "Look Harm, it's simply-" she stopped cold when she saw 
him.  He was leaning over the desk, staring at the answering machine.  She 
could hear Renee's mother's voice again, and a second later Harm grabbed the 
nearest pen and wrote down the number that was on the message.

She heard the "beep" that meant the end of the message, and Harm turned the 
machine off.  He couldn't look at Mac.  She stood there and just watched 
him.  He gripped the edge of the desk for support, his eyes closed, and his 
labored breathing was audible across the room.

Mac braced herself for him to rip into her for keeping this from him.  He 
had every right to be furious.  Instead, she saw him reach for the phone and 
call the funeral home.  She only got his end of the conversation.

"Cyrus, it's Harmon Rabb.........yes, yes I've heard......I'm so sorry....I 
would've been there.  I was on assignment out of the country......Yeah, 
unbelievable.....Right.  I know she loved you a great deal......Yeah, sure 
thing.  Sorry.  Oh, one thing - can you give me Marie's number?  I must've 
misplaced it."  He wrote down the number.  "Yeah, got it.  Thanks.  And 
Cyrus, take care of yourself."

He hung up and immediately called Marie Peterson.  "Mrs. Peterson, it's 
Harm.......I know, I know.......I wish there was something more I could say 
than I'm sorry.......Yes, I was away on assignment and just found 
out.......you know I would've been there.  She meant a lot to me......Yes 
ma'am, thank you for understanding......Yes, I'm sure it was a lovely 
service.......terrible.....so young....." Harm chuckled.  "Yes ma'am, the 
commercials, the recruiting video, it's a nice legacy......It was?  Ma'am, 
if you don't mind me asking, did she--I mean--how long......so it was.  
Well, that's best, I suppose, if she didn't suffer.....Yes ma'am, a much 
better place."  There was a long pause as Marie went on about something.  
"Yes ma'am, I will.  And if you're ever in Washington, I'd be honored to 
give you a personal tour......Okay, you too.  Bye."

He hung up the phone and turned to see Mac, with her coat on, folding the 
scarf back into the box.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his tone guarded.

"I think it would be best for me to go," she said, unable to meet his eyes.

He walked over to her and held her arm.  "I think it would be best for you 
to answer my question.  Why, Mac?"

"I...I didn't know how."

"What?  What do you mean?  You knew how to conveniently leave it out when 
you gave me the other messages."

"I couldn't."

Harm sighed, trying to stay calm.  He reached for the collar of her coat.  
"Look, take off your coat and sit down."  She draped it over the arm of the 
couch and they sat together.  Harm spoke softly.  "How could you keep this 
from me?"

She stared silently at the floor.

He put his finger under her chin and turned her face to him.  "Look at me, 
Mac."

"I'm so sorry.  I should have told you.  I'm so sorry I didn't."

"I know," he said, and he took her hand.  "I know you're sorry.  You don't 
have to apologize, but why did you do this?  And please, *please* tell me 
it's something more than my relationship with Renee, because she was
never--"

"Francesca," Mac interrupted.

"What?"

"Francesca had just been killed a few days before.  And you were in Italy.  
The funeral was over.  There was nothing you could do."

"Maybe not, but at least I wouldn't feel like a first class asshole for not 
even calling until a week after the fact.  Even if Marie doesn't see it that 
way."

"You had obligations to your duty.  She understands."

"Screw duty," Harm said gruffly.

"What?"

"Screw it.  The Navy, love, the law.  Screw it all."  He walked over to the 
window.

"What are you talking about?"

He had his back to her as he looked out at the darkness.  "It's all just in 
the way.  The Navy gets in the way of love, love gets in the way of the 
Navy, and the law--"

"The law," she interrupted, "is the reason we met.  And as for love, Harm, 
the Navy wasn't what kept you and Renee apart--"

"Not Renee," He said, turning around.  "You."  He put his hands on either 
side of Mac's face.  His green eyes were dark and fiery.  "I love you Sarah 
Mackenzie."

"What?"

"I love you Sarah, with everything I have, and everything I am."

"What?"

"Are you all right?"

Mac nodded, flashing a bright smile.  "I just love hearing it.  Do you know 
how long I've dreamed of hearing those words from you?"

He smiled.  "Probably as long as I've dreamed of saying them.  I can't hold 
back any more.  All this death...all this sadness.  I...I can't do it 
anymore.  We're surrounded by death and loss, and the only thing keeping me 
going is you and how much I love you."

"I love you, Harmon Rabb Junior, with my entire being."

"You're everything to me, Sarah."

"And you to me."

With that, they wrapped their arms around one another and kissed 
desperately, seeking and finding everything they ever needed in each other.  
Harm began to quickly unbutton Mac's uniform jacket while Mac's hands worked 
at the buttons on his own.  He got to the last button and pushed the jacket 
off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

He worked the top buttons on her shirt and kissed the warm exposed skin of 
her neck and collarbone.  Mac threw her head back and moaned softly, losing 
herself in Harm's actions.  Before she forgot herself completely, she 
finished unbuttoning his jacket, and before taking it off him, she ran her 
fingers along the gold wings.

"Tsk tsk...and they're not even dress whites."

Harm cracked a half smile.  Mac tilted her head toward the bedroom.  "Come 
on Harm," she purred, "let’s go flying."

Harm was beginning to breathe faster, his arousal growing.

"You might need that coffee now.  We could be up for a while." Mac winked at 
him.

He looked at her intensely, picked her up in his arms, and started toward 
the bedroom.  "Forget the coffee," he said in a husky voice.  Who needed 
caffeine?  He could stay awake forever if it meant looking at Sarah 
Mackenzie glowing.  If it meant making love to the only woman who had ever 
captured his soul.

"Oh my," she said in a breathy whisper.

In the bedroom, they continued undressing each other.  When they were 
completely exposed to each other, they kissed and caressed, never having 
imagined that tearing down the walls would feel so incredible.

"Wait," Harm said suddenly.  He sat up.  "We can't.  Not tonight."

"What?!" Mac said, incredulous.

"I can't make love to you."

Mac's face showed her shock.  "I thought...I thought you wanted...oh my 
God."  She was mortified.  She scrambled to find her shirt among the 
clothing on the floor.  Harm came around and grabbed her arm.  "I do want 
to.  It's taking every ounce of restraint I have not to throw you down on 
that bed and do every sinful thing to you I've ever thought about doing."

"Then why--"

"Because you deserve better.  You deserve slow and sensual.  When we're 
together the first time, I don't want it to be rushed.  I want to take my 
time.  I want to worship every inch of you.  I don't want to do it because 
we're hurting, or because we're running, or we're scared.  I want it to be 
about you and me."

Mac looked up at him, with a pained expression.  "Isn't it, though?  Hasn't 
it always been?"  She pointed to the model F-14 on Harm's nightstand.  
"Through that?"  She pointed to the bottom of her left ring finger.  
"Through this?  God, through *everything.*"  She put one hand on her heart, 
and the other on Harm's.  "Hasn't it always been about us?"

A tear trickled from Harm's eye, and he pulled her into a tight embrace.  "I 
love you," he whispered.

"I'll never get tired of hearing that."

Harm kept that in mind, and to make sure Mac was pleased in every way 
possible, he said it to her over and over again as they finished what they 
had started.


~The End~