Disclaimer: I don't own any part of JAG or NCIS, so no infringement intended.

A/N: This story takes place in the "unaccounted for" months after JAG Season 4 and before Season 5. JAG fans learn during the first episode of Season 5 that several months had passed since Harm left JAG.

I'd like to think that our favorite characters have friends outside of work that the TV people just never talked about during the series. So in this story, I took the liberty of making Caitlin Todd and Sarah Mackenzie friends. They live in the same apartment building after all, (NCIS "Left for Dead" S1). The year is 1999. Agent Caitlin (Kate) Todd was working for the Security Service.

Crossing the Invisible Line:

"I'm calling the landlord tomorrow!" Kate Todd screamed at the top of her lungs to no one in particular and then burrowed her head under the pillow. "Am I the only person in this building that works on Monday?" She cried in frustration trying to block out the sounds coming from the next apartment. The obnoxious laughter, screaming, and the headboard banging against the wall were anything but muffled. It was becoming a regular thing. This was the fourth weekend in a row that her next-door neighbor had thrown a two-day private party without informing the neighbors. Of course, no one else gives a shit because they don't have to share bedroom walls with them! Kate thought ruefully as she resigned herself to sleeping in the living room again. "I'm an armed federal agent," she mumbled to herself and she pulled the comforter off the bed and walked slowly into the other room. "I have half a mind to bust in there with my gun and shoot whoever's over there getting their jollies."

She shuddered at the mental image as she crawled onto the couch and fluffed the comforter around her. "I don't even know who lives there," she said to herself. She tilted her head in thought as she tried to imagine the names on the mailboxes. Three o one was …. McCoy, McGregor, Macfee…. thought Kate as she stifled a yawn. I could work up a whole profile on my neighbor! Male, obviously, in his mid thirties or forties going through his midlife crisis, substance abuser … alcohol being the drug of choice since he is in control of his faculties.. based on his antics through the wall. Lived in the building for several years as a model resident and probably feels like he's entitled to make some noise. Most likely works a low-level white-collar job or maybe even a blue-collar worker. Needs to prove himself to his partners … to show he still has it. "Ugh," she moaned again as a screen shot of Robert De Niro from Cape Fear flashed through her mind. "Stop! One two three four five," she said softly trying to clear her mind. When that didn't work, she sat up, grabbed a woman's magazine off her coffee table, and flipped through the pages.

Loud voices in the hallway and the apartment door slamming shut woke Kate up about an hour later. "Geezus," she grumbled under her breath. "Keeping it behind closed doors isn't enough!" She rolled over on the couch and pulled the pillow over her head.

Kate Todd stood in front of the mailboxes and scanned the register for the name of the resident in apartment three o one. "Mackenzie," she mumbled aloud as she pointed at the box. "Sarah Mackenzie. Interesting."

"What's so interesting about it?" a deep female voice asked from behind her.

Kate turned around and looked at the woman standing there. A marine? My neighbor is a woman and a marine? Kate stood frozen with a shocked expression on her face. The idea that the neighbor that kept her awake all night was a woman escaped her. The woman standing before her was squared away in pure Marine style, her uniform perfect, her hair tucked in high and tight … nothing like the picture that Kate had profiled from the previous nights antics.

"What's so interesting?" the woman repeated with an authoritative tone in her voice.

"You're Sarah Mackenzie?" Kate stammered trying to cover her astonishment.

"Major Mackenzie, yes, and you are?"

"Caitlin Todd," Kate replied extending her hand. "Kate for short. I'm your new neighbor in apartment three o three. The landlord told me about you. He said we would have a lot in common and should hang out."

"Oh, you're the woman that works for the Secret Service," Sarah Mackenzie replied her tone softening, lips curling into a half smile. "Yes, Mr. Chang told me about you when I paid the rent last month." She reached out and shook Kate's hand. "Sarah Mackenzie. My friend's call me Mac."

"Hi, Mac," Kate replied with a smile on her face. "You're JAG?" she asked rhetorically. The JAG insignia pin was prominently displayed on Mackenzie's lapel. "You work out of the pentagon?"

"Yes, I'm a JAG attorney," Mackenzie replied. "But I work out of the main office in Falls Church."

"Ah," Kate said casually. "I'm in the Hoover Building. Guess that rules out meeting for lunch." She shrugged her shoulders and dug a business card out of her purse. "Here's my card if you want to get together."

Mackenzie took the card and pulled her own out of her wallet as well. "Maybe we could meet for dinner this week instead," Mackenzie offered. "I need a change of pace. Don't mean to be rude, but I gotta run." She fished her car keys out of her purse and passed by Kate on her way to the parking lot.

"Good," Kate called to her. "I'll call you later." Kate caught a faint odor of stale alcohol lingering in the air by the mailboxes. She watched as Major Mackenzie got into her red corvette and pulled out of the lot. "You're not as squared away as you try to appear my dear neighbor."

Major Sarah Mackenzie fidgeted in front of the mirror. Her face was flushed and her stomach queasy as she ran a paper towel through the faucet and placed it on the back of her neck. After a moment, she felt her strength returning and tossed the towel in the trash. She winced in pain as she bumped her arm against the counter and pulled nervously at the right sleeve of her uniform jacket.

Mackenzie sighed, pushed the fabric back, and looked at her right wrist. A huge bruise covered it and extended up her arm. It was tender to the touch. She fingered it gingerly feeling the pain radiate from the damaged nerves. The sensation was oddly pleasurable and took her back to the previous nights activities. Her naughty "lil secret" with a certain dark haired co-worker was worth a bruise or too. At least it seemed like a good idea at the time, she thought remorsefully. The liaison was dangerous. Mac needed to be careful, very very careful.

She pulled the sleeve back down and looked at her reflection in the mirror. I'm in control, she told herself firmly. I made it past the Secret Service agent, she thought staring at herself. I don't look that bad. I just feel like crap. A couple of breath mints, avoid the Admiral and before I know it, it'll be quitting time. Just take it one hour at a time. Major Mackenzie stared at her reflection with confidence. Coffee, I need coffee.

She made it to sixteen hundred hours without a hitch, buried deep in paperwork in her office. A queasy stomach caused her to skip lunch and avoid any human contact with her co-workers. Except for him, that is. He came to visit her twice. The first was official business, signing off on court documents, the second just moments later to run interference while she yakked into her garbage can. And like a gentleman, he even discretely tossed the liner for me, she thought with a smirk. Those are qualities almost worth marrying for, she mused as she pushed the papers on her desk around aimlessly.

Commotion in the bullpen drew her attention from her desk and she stared at the junior officers standing around PO Tiner in the center of the room. As she watched the group, she caught a glimpse of him coming toward her office again. She felt a chill in her spine at the pure sight of him, his dark hair, firm jaw line, muscular biceps budging from the confines of his uniform. She reminisced on the sensation he brought out when he touch her, running his fingers through her hair, trailing his fingertips down her torso, teasing her body with just the slightest movement. She was hypnotized by the memory and didn't hear him knock on her door or enter the room.

"Do you have any documents for the file room?" he asked her casually. When she didn't respond, he called to her again. "Major?"

His voice startled her and she jumped slightly as she focused in on his face. "Wha? Lieutenant?" He really could pass for Harm's brother, she thought as she stared at him. Lt. Stafford was about the same age as Rabb. He had worked in the private sector as a plumber before attending law school and joining the Navy JAG corp. Except he knows what he wants and goes after it, Mac contemplated as she watched him.

Lieutenant j.g. Stafford started to chuckle and took the liberty of closing the door behind him. "Mac, are you okay?" he asked walking to the side of her desk.

"Ah," she mumbled shaking her head. She suddenly felt hot and a wave of nausea came over her again. She fumbled for the trashcan, pulling it from under her desk just in time to catch the fluid that she expelled from her mouth.

Stafford squatted down at the side of her desk and made it look like the Major had dropped some files. He slid the file folders in his hand around on the floor for a few seconds until her coughing stopped. "You okay?" he asked her looking up into her eyes.

"Yeah, sort of," she replied barely audible. She wiped her mouth with a tissue and sat back in her chair slowly. "I feel like crap."

"Take some deep breaths," he said pushing the trash can back under the desk and standing up. He eyed her cautiously noting the color had drained from her face. "Tough day huh Major?" he commented carefully. "Guess you can't hang with the big dogs after all."

Mac took a deep breath and tried to pull herself together for any of the viewing eyes in the bullpen. "I don't remember that I was trying to run with the big dogs, Staf," she replied looking up at him. "I was just at the bar by myself trying to drown my sorrows."

"Hmm, right," Stafford guffawed. "You were drowned all right. You know the best way to kill a hangover is…" he remarked leaning over her desk to pick up a manila folder.

"To stay drunk?" Mac finished the sentence for him. A whiff of his aftershave teased her nose and a fleeting memory of their night of passion flashed before her eyes. She closed them for a moment to freeze the memory and then looked up at him seductively.

"That's one way," he laughed looking down at her. "I was thinking more in the lines of a five mile run." He caught the suggestive look in her eye and straightened up. "Unless you have a better idea."

"My place, nineteen hundred," she said flatly looking him dead in the eye. She slowly ran her tongue over her lips to make her point. She watched the corner of his lip curl into a smirk. "That'll be all Lieutenant."

Stafford winked at her and nodded his head in agreement of her comment. "Yes, Ma'm," he answered and dismissed himself from her office.

In her darken living room, Mac stared mindlessly at the bottle in her hand. The strong odor of the liquid drew her into its hypnotic grasp. She ran her tongue around the opening of the bottle and felt the burn of the liquid on her tongue. She tilted the bottle to her lips and let the liquid fire burn its way to her stomach. She could feel it affect her immediately like medication running through her veins, washing away her pain, numbing her senses.

Loss. That's what the past few years have been to me, she cried as tears rolled down her face. Nothing! First my father, the John Farrow, then Dalton and now my partner, she thought taking another swig of the clear liquid. All of them used me and then dumped me! She took another long swallow of the vodka until it choked in her throat and she began to cough relentlessly. She stumbled toward the bathroom and barely made it to the stool before the contents of her stomach regurgitated.

Stafford found her laying face down in a puddle of vomit an hour later. After checking her pulse and breathing, he picked her limp body up from the floor and set her down in the bathtub. He quickly cleaned up the mess on the floor before turning on the shower and spraying her body with ice-cold water.

It didn't take long to wake her from the stupor. Mac shielded her face from the water and cursed at him standing there beside her. "Dammit Stafford!" she cried out trying to stand. "Shut it off! What are you fricken doing?"

He did as she commanded and helped her step from the tub. "Saving your ass Major!" he yelled at her trying to shock her back to reality. He handed her a towel, which she snatched from him quickly. "You should be thankful I know how to pick a lock, otherwise you would have choked to death on your vomit!"

"Get away from me!" Mac howled as he reached for her when she lost her balance and stumbled against the wall. "Don't fricken touch me!"

"Oh, that's how you want it now?" Stafford yelled at her as she yanked away from him and staggered into her bedroom. He followed her with a verbal barrage poking at her hot buttons. "Is that how you play it Mac? You play games with those who care about you and push them away?"

"I don't play games!" Mac yelled back at him and attempted to slap him in the face. She missed by a long shot and he caught her as she stumbled, nearly falling to the floor. "You don't care about me! You're just in it for the sex!" she growled under her breath when she found her face about two inches from his. She grabbed his head and pulled his face toward hers. Their lips brushed each other and she kissed him hungrily, deeply.

Stafford responded to her at first, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his body. But when the cold wet fabric of her clothing touched his skin, he pushed her back. "No," he said softly. "This isn't …. You need to sober up." He firmly held her arms at her sides.

"No, please," she whimpered clawing her way closer to him. "Make love to me Staf," she purred placing gentle kisses on his neck.

"No Mac," he repeated sternly. "Not now, not like this."

"You bastard!" she yelled pulling away from him again. "Get out!" she demanded staggering into the living room. "I don't need you to patronize me!"

"I wasn't patronizing you Mac!" Stafford retorted following her into the next room. "I'm not going to sleep with you when you're falling down drunk!"

"You didn't have a problem with that last night!" Mac huffed as she swung the apartment door open.

"Mac!" he protested staring at her. "You're being unreasonable!"

"It's Major to you Lieutenant!" She screamed at him. She glared at him with fire in her eyes.

"Oh, that's how it's going to be now?" he shouted at her, their faces mere inches apart. "Back to rank and protocol when you don't get your way?"

Mac put her hands on his chest and shoved him backward. "Get the frick out Lieutenant!! Just leave!"

Stafford looked at her, grabbed his coat off the chair and walked out into the hall. "I see how you really are," Stafford grumbled as he turned to look back at her. "You're nothing but a fricken drunk! No wonder Rabb left JAG!"

"You a-hole!" Mac yelled back. She lunged forward to take a swing at him and missed miserably, falling to the floor. Stafford laughed and walked away leaving her lying in the hallway.

Kate Todd stood quietly behind her door and listened to the verbal assault taking place in the common hallway. When all was quiet, she cracked her door to peek out and found her neighbor, Major Mackenzie sitting on the floor sobbing uncontrollably. Kate hesitated a moment and then quietly closed the door. What should I do? she thought as she stood in the darkness of her own apartment. I barely know this person. Kate bit her lip and mulled over the alternatives of whether or not to get involved. Her neighbor made the decision for her a second later when the door to apartment three o one slammed shut.

TBC