Hey...This is my first attempt at a JAG fic, probably my last because ideas only pop into my head once in a while...I just wrote this little fic after watching "Full Engagement" which I thought was the best episode yet. Then again, I've only watched Episode 1 - Full Engagement of JAG, so either way I'm biased. Anyway thanks for checkin it out.

~moviefanatic17

FORGETTING

The past twenty-four hours had been one hell of a day as Mac stumbled into her apartment, throwing her keys and purse down onto the table and dragging a set of crutches in with the other hand. She winced as she put her full weight on her bandaged leg, swinging around to close the door. She refused to give in and use the crutches the doctors insisted she take home. Mac could almost hear Harm scolding her, but knew that if he was in her situation, he wouldn't be using them either. Besides, it was like he said. She was a Marine for crying out loud, and she didn't need crutches.

Mac was almost regretting her decision to decline when Harm offered to take her home as she moved to the kitchen. But she had been tired, and Bud managed to get past the shock of her being shot to tell Harm about the trial he'd missed. Mac knew he should go clear things up before he was in any more trouble, insisting that she was fine, and could get home on her own. Harm left somewhat reluctantly, promising to call her the next morning.

The wound in her leg was not too critical, and the hospital removed the fragments without too much difficulty. They'd allowed her to leave almost immediately, since no bones or major arteries were involved, but they had prescribed her antibiotics to combat the infection and other medication to ward off the dull, persistent pain that came with injury. Screwing the lid off the small orange bottle, she popped two of the pills into her mouth and chased them with a swig of water. Carrying the bottle into the living room, she plopped down ungracefully onto her couch, letting out a long sigh. Her body screamed for sleep, but her brain wouldn't allow that. Instead, she reached for the remote, turning on whatever late night show was still airing, and grabbed a book that had been marked at the same spot for weeks. Eventually her body won out, and she gave into the fatigue that plagued her.

She was lying in a patch of leaves, watching as one of the poachers who had been tracking them examined the area. Harm had taken off, running into the woods in an attempt to distract the hunters. But they'd apparently split up, as one of them was now bearing down on her hiding place. Something rustled hear her and she lowered her head, lifting it again to see the man set down his gun and pull a knife. He walked over slowly, and Mac knew he must have seen her. He jumped and she grabbed his arms, using all her strength to keep the knife from cutting into her skin. At some point in the struggle, she gained the upper hand, turning the knife away from her and sending it plunging into his stomach. As hard as she tried, she couldn't take her eyes off his as he realized he was dying.

As his body fell, everything around Mac disappeared until she was standing by herself in a clearing. Suddenly, a familiar voice came from behind her.

"You murdered him."

Mac spun around and saw Harm, arms crossed and a look on his face that she had never seen before. "No, it was self defense!" Harm simply shook his head and repeated his statement, his voice sounding cold and different. Mac didn't know why he was saying this to her, but desperately wanted him to believe her.

"No, you said it was him or me! You said so yourself! Don't you remember?" she asked, feeling her panic rising. Once again, he shook his head and faded away. As soon as Harm left, his image was replaced by the dying poacher's. His eyes were staring at her, asking her why. She turned around, closing her eyes and bowing her head as she felt the unmistakable sting of tears. Sarah Mackenzie was rarely scared, but right now she was terrified. Why was Harm calling her a murderer? Why did she feel like he was right?

Feeling something warm on her hands, she opened them to find crimson blood dripping onto the ground below. She tried frantically to wipe them off, but the blood just kept coming and the scream that was bubbling in her throat finally erupted. "NO!"

Next thing Mac was aware of was being pulled off her couch, and Harm's concerned blue eyes staring into hers. Forgetting about her injured leg, she lunged with all her force at him, holding onto his neck and burying her face into his leather pilot jacket. Taken back, Harm returned the hug, holding her tight and stroking her hair as her body shook from sobbing.

"I'm not a murderer," Mac whispered, her voice muffled by the jacket and choked from the tears.

"Hey, hey," Harm said, pulling her back to look at her face. "I know that."

Slowly, he eased her back onto the couch and walked back to close the door that he'd burst through moments before. Sitting down next to her, he put an arm around her shoulders and held onto her until the sobs subsided.

"I'm sorry," Mac said, wiping her eyes with her shirt sleeves. "I don't know what happened. It must be the medication and fatigue from the day..."

"Mac," Harm started, turning to look at her once again, "you don't need to make excuses." She nodded and wiped at her eyes again, letting out another sigh.

"I don't know why I keep thinking about it. I know that it was him or me in that clearing, and that if I didn't...do what I did...I'd be dead right now. So why do I feel so guilty? Why can't I get him out of my head?"

"Look, Mac. You and me, we're military. We're trained to kill and it's something we're prepared to do everyday. But we're also lawyers. We have to see the other side of the killing too; the victims and the hurt. No matter what side we're on, we can't tell people what to do. You may have been his last stop, but he chose the path he was taking, not you." Raising his hand, Harm turned Mac's chin to face him. "You never should feel okay with taking a life, whether its during a war or out on the streets."

Mac tried to keep the fresh tears at bay as she nodded slightly. "Thank you, Harm." Harm smiled his charming smile, which had the affect he wanted and she also smiled. He stood and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a new bottled water for Mac.

"Why did you come tonight?" Mac asked as Harm settled back beside her.

"I wanted to make sure you were using your crutches like the doctor told you and were taking your medication. I came up and heard you yell, and I thought you might be..." he trailed off awkwardly, becoming very interested in the person on the T.V. screen. Truth was, he was scared to death when he heard Mac's screaming, and ran through her unlocked front door. Mac understood what he was saying and noticed how he'd unconsciously inched closer to her. They fell into a content silence, both somehow hearing exactly what the other wasn't saying.

A few hours past and Mac was thoroughly passed out on Harm's shoulder. Getting up as carefully as he could, he bent down to wake her and say goodbye, but she looked so peaceful that he couldn't bring himself to do so. Instead, he hooked an arm under her neck and another under her knees, picking her up as easily as small child. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, and he enjoyed the feeling for the few moments it took to travel to her bedroom. He gently set her down on the bed and turned back to the door, but hesitated in leaving when he heard a small whisper behind him.

" 'Night Harm."

Harm turned back and walked to the side of his partner's bed. Leaning down, he kissed her cheek and lightly ran his thumb over the spot, turning once more to go. Returning the sentiment at the door, he quietly shut it behind himself, leaving Mac to calmer, and hopefully better dreams.

Review if you feel like it.