Disclaimer: I don't own them, just having fun.
For MarineMom with love.
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Harm awoke on a clear, crisp Tuesday morning feeling the worse for wear. He was experiencing a classic case of 'the morning after'. Unfortunately for the Commander it came without the night before. It was the flu. His head hurt, his throat hurt, he was cold and he was hot. He looked at the clock and tried to focus. After five minutes he gave up and guessed it was about 0700.
Although he would have much preferred to stay in bed he dragged himself up. He had a heavy workload for the day ahead, including a 0915 court date with an unsympathetic judge who would not allow another continuance. He showered, shaved and dressed, swallowed a handful of aspirin and headed out the door. I bet this is how it feels to be hit by a bus, he mumbled to himself as he left.
Admiral Chegwidden was surprised with Harm's appearance and by the time of day.
"Rabb, you sick?" he asked by way of greeting when he spied Harm crossing the bullpen.
"I've been better, sir. What gave it away?" Harm replied, more shuffling than walking.
"Well, you look dreadful for one and it's 0620. I've never known you to be early in your life, let alone by two hours." The Admiral studied the younger man closely.
"Sorry sir, but the…" Harm began to cough violently.
"Commander, take yourself to the doctor and then to bed. I don't want to see you back until you're well – understood?" he ordered and although quiet in volume it still made Harm's ears hurt.
"Yes sir," Harm mumbled.
"I can't afford to have an office full of sick people with the workload we have on. Go," he instructed.
"Yes dear," Harm muttered trudging to the door.
"Yes who?" The Admiral looked bemused.
"Sir, yes sir."
A trip to the doctor, to the drug store and then to bed did wonders for the Commander's health. The next day he was much improved and by the third day he felt well enough to return to work. He showered, dressed accordingly and went into the office feeling refreshed and ready to take on the challenges ahead.
At first, all seemed well, quite normal. As Harm made his way to his own office he glanced into Mac's. She wasn't there. Upon the wall behind the desk was a framed photograph of the USS Bennington. I wonder where she got that from he thought to himself. He couldn't figure out why a marine would have anything Navy on display.
Harm caught a look at the name plate on her door. Commander Elizabeth Watkins screamed out at him.
"Where's Mac?" he asked Sturgis who had emerged from his own office.
"Good morning to you too, Harm. Feeling better?" Sturgis asked, patting Harm's arm.
"Good morning, Sturgis. Yeah, fine. Where's Mac? And who is this Commander Elizabeth Watkins?" Harm asked, his mind swirling in confusion.
"Well, last question first buddy, Commander Watkins has been here at JAG a little over two months. She came from an in-country posting in Afghanistan. Ring any bells?" Sturgis reported, concerned by his friend's vagueness.
"No," Harm said, shaking his head vigorously.
"Surely it must Harm. You have only been on sick leave for three days, not three months," he said.
"Where's Mac?" Harm was insistent.
"Who?" Sturgis was puzzled.
"Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. Mac. God, Sturgis, you know who I'm talking about," Harm begged, his voice becoming raised.
"Sorry, Harm, I don't know anybody by that name," Sturgis replied.
"Sure you do. She's been here for eight years – this is her office." He gestured wildly toward the nearby office.
"Harm, I have been here for four years and there's never been a MacKenzie here. Before Commander Watkins this office was Commander Manetti's and before that Lieutenant Singer's," Sturgis explained emphatically.
"Enough, Sturgis! What is this, April Fool's Day?" Harm was becoming quite distressed.
"Harm, calm down. Perhaps you are still unwell. I honestly have no idea who you are talking about." Sturgis went to pat Harm's shoulder but he shrugged it off.
"Well, I'm sure the Admiral will." He stormed off.
Harm charged into the Admiral's office without knocking or permission.
"Forgotten rules of protocol in your absence," said the Admiral without looking up.
"No, sir. Sorry, sir. I was just anxious," Harm said shuffling his feet.
"Anxious about what?" The Admiral looked up at Harm over the rim of his glasses.
"Sir, Colonel MacKenzie, where is she?" Harm pleaded; his stomach twisting as he spoke.
"Who?" He put down his pen and stared at the Commander.
"Oh, sir, don't you start! Mac? Sarah MacKenzie? There's a Commander Watkins in her office and Sturgis reckons he's never heard of her. Sir, you must know who I mean." Harm was pleading.
"MacKenzie, MacKenzie," the Admiral repeated to himself. "I knew a Jack McKenzie out at Andrews once and a MacKenzie Brockman off the Watertower, but as for a Colonel, did you say? A Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, I must say no."
"No! What do you mean no? You think of her as a daughter. You must know her!" Harm moved forward, slamming his hands down on the desk before him.
"Commander Rabb, I have a daughter – Francesca. Who is this MacKenzie of yours?" The Admiral retorted, getting to his feet.
"She's a marine colonel. She's a JAG lawyer. She's one of us. She's been here for eight years," Harm reeled off, distressed at the lack of recognition on his boss' face.
"Rabb, I think you need to go back to the doctor. You seem somewhat delusional," he said, moving from behind the desk and ushering Harm towards the door.
"With all due respect, sir, I'm fine. At least I will be when I get some answers." He turned on his heel and headed to his office.
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Harm spent the day reviewing personnel lists and work schedules, interviewing staff and watching security tapes. He could find no evidence of Mac at all. Not a picture, not a file note, not a recollection. He questioned Bud and Harriet for nearly an hour but they provided no assistance. Harm felt he was well and truly on his own.
Desperate, he tried Mac's phone number again; there was still no answer and no answering machine. He tried her cell phone but it was off. Her pager drew no response. He rang directory assistance to verify her details but they had no such listing. He asked them to check all records but nothing could be found under the name of Sarah MacKenzie.
Frantically he left the office and drove to her apartment. All the while he kept telling himself there would be a logical explanation for it all. He knew anything could have happened in his three day absence. She could be working with the CIA on a "need to know" basis – damn Webb, that would be his next port of call. She could have gone into Witness Protection – anything.
Harm pulled his Lexus into her street and slammed on the brakes. Where he was expecting to see Mac's apartment building he found a row of terrace houses. He got out of his vehicle and looked at the surrounds. Everything else was where it should be – right down to the misshapen oak tree on the corner.
"Ma'am," he called to a woman about to enter one of the houses, "could you please tell me how long these houses have been here?"
"Well, sir, I have lived here fifteen years next summer and they were here way before me. I expect they've been here about forty years or so." With that she went on her way.
Harm got back in his vehicle and tried to figure it out. How could someone just disappear? None of it made sense. "A dream," he shouted to himself, "it's a dream. Wake up you idiot!" he ordered himself. He pinched his arm, then his leg. He opened his water bottle and threw the contents at his face. All to no avail. It wasn't a dream.
His cell phone rang twice before he answered it.
"Commander, where the hell are you?" The Admiral bellowed down the line.
"Sir, I'm trying to find Mac but there's no trace and…" he began in his own defence.
"That's because she doesn't exist. She's probably someone you invented during your fever – a figment of your imagination," the Admiral said, frustration clearly evident in his voice.
"But sir, it's so real. She's real, I know it," Harm pleaded, he wasn't ready to give up on this just yet.
"Rabb, are you deluded?"
"No, Sir."
"Running a fever?"
"No, Sir."
"Hallucinating?"
"No, Sir?"
"Well, if you don't get your ass back in this office in the next twenty minutes, your mysterious Colonel won't be the only one MIA from this office," he roared before slamming down the phone.
"Yes, Sir."