Hello everyone. I had to take a small hiatus from 'Life After: Russia' for a bit. However, rest assured that I WILL continue the story. I kinda got blocked a bit with the current chapter. It's looking like it could be a whopper of a chapter. I believe you'll like it though.

Anyway, here's a story that came to me while I was researching said 'Russia' chapter. Harm doesn't crash into the Atlantic but does make it to the wedding. What happens? Read and find out. ;-)

Fair warning, this is...not...really...shipper friendly to start out. I know, I know. The HarMac writer is changing up the recipe a bit. Hey, gotta keep you peeps on your toes.

Well that's enough out of me...for now.

Say it with me...ON WITH THE SHOW!

1705 Zulu / 1205 EDT
St. Patrick's Church
Washington, D.C.

"If there is anyone here who thinks these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, let them speak now or..." The priest's oratory was interrupted when an all too familiar voice broke in.

"WAIT!" The man raced up the aisle, frantically, desperately trying to get to the altar.

"You sepo bastard!" The groom was not about to let this jackass ruin his wedding. While the interloper was attempting to catch his breath, the groom launched himself on top of him. Before anyone knew what was going on, the groom had landed six hard shots to the other man's face.

Being a former, nearly, world class boxer, the groom could more than handle his own in a ring. However, outside of the ring, without any rules or even a referee, he could be deadly.

It was all the bride could do to pull herself away from the maid of honor and the best man, who were holding her back, so that she could stop the absolute bashing the intruder was taking.

The man who had given away the bride was the first to make it to the groom. He was barely able to knock the groom off the man he was attacking when a couple of the groomsmen had made it over as well to hold back their friend.

The bride had made it over to the area where the fight (if one could call a one - sided bludgeoning of another man a fight) had taken place. What she saw before her she never wanted to see again happen to another person, especially if the person was the best friend she ever had...until recently. The man's face was bloody and there were the tell - tale signs of early bruising on his cheeks. His nose was most likely broken and his lips were split at several points.

Her voice caught in her throat when she tried to speak and could only look at the man lying on the floor of the church with fear and something else the battered man couldn't quite distinguish, in her eyes. Smoothing over a few strands of hair from his face she finally found her voice and said, "Huh...How could you do this? You son of a bitch! Why did you ruin my wedding?!" The bride had found her voice and then offered more insult to injury be slapping the intruder on his already butchered face.

In the back of the man's mind, this is not quite what he had in mind when he finally decided to go to his best friend's wedding. He saw himself walking right in there like a knight in shining armor, sweeping the bride off of her feet, and carrying her off on his trusty steed...or vintage Corvette as it should have been in this case. Never did he think that he would have to actually face the gauntlet AND the dragon at the same time.

With his head now throbbing from the effects of the onslaught, all those thoughts vanished when she said 'How could you'. He had just gotten back from flying through the mother of all storms just so that he could fulfill a promise he made the bride; just to have the crap beaten out of him and his, supposed, best friend slap him for his troubles. Sheesh, what would he do for an encore: wrestle alligators? How could he?

Finally summoning some smidgen of energy, the man began to move from the cold spot on the floor he had landed on, aided by a couple of people in the gallery. With his face now swelling, the words he uttered were barely understandable. "I'm shawry. I zzust wanthed thoo giff the bwide away. Good-bye...Mac."

Harmon Rabb, Jr. turned and started to walk away with heart, which was now just charred remains, in his hands. How could he have been so wrong, so stupid to think that Sarah Mackenzie might actually love him? Maybe that kiss on the Admiral's porch during her engagement party truly meant 'good-bye'?

Three weeks later

1217 Zulu / 0717 EDT
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie-Brumby walked into the bullpen with a smile on her face and whistling The Marine Corps Hymn. She and Mic had decided to postpone the wedding until the next day and it had gone off without a hitch. Of course they had to wait for both masses to finish before they could complete the ceremony. Mac didn't mind considering the fact that her honeymoon would be nearly three weeks long; just long enough for her to completely get a certain aviator-turned-lawyer out of her heart.

Bud was picking something off of the fax machine when he heard her, slightly out of tune, rendition and offered, "Welcome back, Colonel! How was Hawaii?"

Mac smiled brilliantly at him and answered, "Wonderful, Bud! I've got some fantastic pictures of both the Arizona and the Missouri at home. I'll bring them in tomorrow." She knew that not only was Bud an avid sci-fi honk, but a rabid history buff...especially when it came to World War II.

Mac made her way to her office and deposited her cover and briefcase onto her desk. Deciding it was time for a cup of coffee, she walked to the galley and dumped the contents of the carafe, with a liquid that was four or five shades too light for her liking. Dumping the desired amount of grounds into the coffee maker, she turned the machine back on so that it would dispense the Marine grade java she loved so much.

It was during this time that she noticed a photograph of what looked like a party that had taken place in the bullpen. In the background, she saw a banner that read, "Bon voyage Commander..." No, that can't be right, could it? Looking again, she couldn't help but notice that it was... "Harm?" What the... ? How could he? Why did he? "What the hell is going on here?"

"What's going on where, Colonel?" Rear Admiral (upper half) AJ Chegwidden's stentorian voice bellowed behind Mac startling her out of her reverie.

Without thinking, Mac snapped to attention and stumbled over her words and disbelief, "Har...Command...Rabb...whuh...where's the Commander, Sir?"

AJ looked at her with almost an unbelieving smirk on his face. He couldn't believe that after the last five years Harm and Mac had never figured out what he saw from that first introduction in the White House rose garden: they belonged together. Now, Mac was married to that Aussie and Harm was...no longer here. "Commander Rabb is no longer at Headquarters, Colonel." Before Mac had a chance to respond, AJ held up his hand and said, "Once that's done percolating, grab two cups and meet me in my office."

Mac's mouth was moving much the same way a catfish's would if it were lying on the ground. Finally able to stop her ministrations, she answered, "Aye, aye, Sir."

"Tiner, close the hatch, please," AJ asked his yeoman. As ordered, Mac had brought in their coffees and was now standing at attention in front of her CO. AJ knew what questions were running through her head and decided that quick and painless was the way to go to answer them. "He's been PCS'd to the Abraham Lincoln Battle Group as the Fleet JAG. After the pyrotechnics at the wedding and being at Bethesda for a few days, he came to me and requested to be transferred." Rubbing his hand over his increasingly balding scalp, a movement that always signified his frustration; he continued in a more threatening tone, "Damn it, Colonel! Just what in the HELL happened between you two?! In the last three weeks, I've seen more work get done in this office than in the six months prior to your wedding. Why? No, don't answer! Don't even think about opening your mouth! I know the answer.

"I have never been one to interfere with the personal lives of those in my command, but how the hell did things get so fouled up between you and the Commander? The man was beaten to a bloody pulp and then you decide to degrade the man further by slapping him.

"My suggestion to you, Colonel, is to pray to whatever greater being there is and hope that the man forgives you. You two were always close and worked better together than any pair of people that have ever worked under my command. However, the six months prior to your wedding, you both lost something. It hasn't necessarily affected your work, but it could.

"Now that the Commander is no longer here, I've decided to pair you with Lieutenant Singer. I know that you two don't get along. Quite frankly, I don't care. Whatever animosity you may harbor towards her, get rid of it. She's your partner now. She needs a senior officer that can teach her about how to do this job properly. That's all...dismissed."

'Son of a bitch! Damn it! What the hell did I do to get saddled with this? Harm is the one who barged into MY wedding to try and stop me from marrying Mic. Fine, Harm's always been good at running away. That's one less thing I have to worry about,' Mac thought as she made her way back to her office. Would it be so bad if she didn't have to walk into JAG and not see Harm every day? The part, however small it was, of her that had some feeling left for the man would say 'Yes, it would.' However, the rest of her, about seventy – five percent of her, believed that it would be nice to be able to work at HQ knowing there was one less ego – maniacal male, with a penchant for getting himself, ne them, in trouble, there. She would enjoy coming into the office and not have to dodge irritating ole Harmon Rabb, Jr.'s idiotic questions and his obsessions. She could deal with this.

Focusing on the task of getting ready for the day, she settle into her office chair, turned on her computer and waited for it to boot up. Opening up her email, she perused until she saw one from an unfamiliar sender. Knowing that with their network's firewalls in place, there was a rather miniscule chance that there was anything in the memo that would hurt her computer, she opened up the email. What she read in the message made her breath catch in her throat and her heart to almost stop.

Dear Mac,

I know that I'm the last person you thought you would hear from, but I needed to send this. I've been fighting with myself over hitting send on this letter for the better part of the last ten days. My heart finally caught up with my mind and here it is.

I am so sorry for barging into your wedding like that. You deserved better that from me and, once again, I just stepped in it.

During the flight back from taking my quals, Skates and I ran into the storm from hell and almost had to eject into the Atlantic. Thankfully, the 'Cat' held on and we made it to Andrews without anything major railroading us. During the flight though, when it looked like we weren't going to make it, I couldn't help but pull out a picture I've carried with me since we took it at little AJ's christening. I take it with me every time I fly and have it in the left breast pocket of my flight suit, right over my heart...

Mac stopped reading for a moment and couldn't help the tears that had started to sting her eyes. She grabbed a couple tissues from the box next to the monitor and dabbed her eyes. Then she continued reading.

...It seems silly, now that you're married to Bugme...sorry, Mic.

I knew right there in the middle of the Atlantic and the mother of all storms that if I ever got to see you again I would tell you something that I should have said that horrible night in Sydney Harbor. I should have told you what I truly felt. Now I'll probably never get that chance. The fault for that lies entirely with me.

On my way to the church that day, I decided not try and stop the wedding. I wanted to...give you away. I believed that the only way for me to be able to move on in my life would be to give you away. In giving you away, I could say goodbye properly and close this chapter of my life. I regret that I never got that chance.

So, that's why I'm writing you. You won't be hearing from me again...at least not unless it's in a professional capacity.

I'm sure the Admiral has already told you where I am. I only ask that you don't try and contact me. It's too hard for me right now.

I will keep in touch with Bud and Harriet. I'm leaving it in their discretion whether or not they tell anyone what's going on with me. Do me a favor and take care of them. They're the best friends we have and some of the best people I'll ever know.

I know you think that apologizing is a weakness, but I am sorry. I'm sorry for barging in on your wedding. I'm sorry for every hurtful thing that's ever come out of my mouth. I'm sorry for not telling you the truth in Sydney. However, I am not now, nor will I ever be sorry for knowing one of the best lawyers, partners, friends a man could ever ask for.

You are one hell of a lawyer and a kick ass Marine. It was an honor serving with you these last five years. You've made a better lawyer and a better person just by knowing you. You've also made me want to be a better man. For that, I can never hope to repay you or thank you enough.

Well, that's it. That's all I needed to say. I hope nothing but the best for you and Mic. Tell him congratulations and sorry for me.

Goodbye, Sarah.

Semper Fi,

Harm

'Goodbye, Sarah.' Two words, seemingly innocent by themselves; when put together they mean so much more. With two words, Mac's entire world came crashing down around her.

The tears, once held at bay, were now flowing freely. Her body, normally showing off the ever stoic Marine, now was wracked with sobs as her hands came up to cover her face. It was in this position that Harriet found her.

Giving off a gasp at seeing her friend like this, Harriet called over one of the Legalman and had her inform the Admiral that Mac wouldn't be able to make it to Staff Call and that she, Harriet, would speak to him after. Then Harriet closed the door and all of the blinds so that no one could see Mac in her present condition.

Pulling up a chair next to her, Harriet held out the box of tissues to her and allowed Mac to cry it, whatever 'it' was out. When the sobs finally subsided, Harriet asked, "Ma'am, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Mac sniffled, sighed, and answered, "Ugh...Harriet...I really screwed up this time. Take a look."

Harriet looked at where Mac was pointing and read the email fully before she commented, "Oh my God. Now I need a tissue. Thanks..." She blew her nose before continuing, "I knew the Commander was good in the courtroom, but...wow! He doesn't come right out and say it, but... (sighs) he loves you, ma'am." Then something hits her in the face lik 4. "Uh, ma'am, forgive me for being...forward...but you're an idiot...ma'am." Harriet blushed in embarrassment at her perceived faux pas and immediately redirected her train of thought, "Uh, I mean you...uh...damn it..." sort of.

"No, you're right. I AM an idiot. There's nothing I can do, now. I'm married to Mic. I love him...I do. I can't do this to him. I...I won't do this to him. I committed my life to him; made a promise. Damn you Harmon Rabb! Ugh, stupid jet jockey got me believing in never breaking a promise." Mac shook her head and buried her face in her hands again.

Mac finally had everything she wanted in life: a good career, a good man, and comfortable shoes; lots and lots of them. Now she was having a problem with what she got. What was she supposed to do now? Leave Mic? Run to Harm? Run away from everything and join a convent? Oh yeah, that last one would really work out. What could she do now but deal with her new life with Mic and continue on at JAG HQ?

Her life had suddenly been turned on its ear and there was nothing she could do about it. When did it become wrong to want what she did from life? When did fate decide to throw everything out of whack when it came to her and a former Naval Aviator? Both are good questions; questions that...now...Sarah Mackenzie would never find out the answers to...

...or will she?