Spoilers: Putting this first, just in case. Um, 'Nobody's Child' is discussed, in places. But this has no really specific place in the existing JAG timeline. AJ is still around and has not retired, yet.

Summary: Harm and Mac investigate an unsubstantiated claim by an unknown member of the public, once again igniting Harm's passion for finding the truth.

Rating: I'd say a 'T' for graphic and possibly upsetting images…definitely not one for children.

Category: Harm/Mac UST. The ending does give some hope for the future, though…

Disclaimer: JAG does not belong to me, nor do I make any money from what I write. I just get to exercise my imagination so that it doesn't get too out of control!

OOOO

Part 1

Harm sighed as he opened the door to his office. For the past two weeks he had been coming in an hour early each day, hoping to clear off his desk enough so that he could see it. Now, not only was it remarkably neater, but he also felt as if his work-load was under control too…that hadn't happened since…well, since before Paraguay.

That was the last thing he wanted to think about…he was still in the dog-house with the Admiral, although much of JAG life had returned to normal. Sturgis and Bud seemed to have put their differences behind them and it seemed that Harriet may even have forgiven the Admiral. She had been remarkably frosty with him for a while after Harm had returned to work. Even before then, according to Jen. So life was still quite good. Well, as good as he could ever imagine it, seeing as his best friend and secret love was involved with Clayton Webb, the very person who had put her life in danger in Paraguay.

Harm was now in the little out-of-the-way office (the 'glorified storage cupboard' as Sturgis referred to it!) but he didn't mind all that much. Sure, it held a funny smell and he had to have his lights turned on most of the time, since there were no windows and therefore no natural light. It hurt his eyes, but Harm was just glad that his friends were still just down the corridor, only a few steps away. No amount of money and perks could possibly make up for a happy work environment, could it?

Harm paused in thought as he saw the foreign manila envelope sitting in the middle of his desk.

He hadn't left that there, last night, had he?

The only similar document that could be lying around his office was the results of the post-mortem on an accident victim…but he'd given those to Sturgis the afternoon before. Harm picked up the envelope (it was actually quite light,) going out of his office to Sturgis'. The room was still in darkness, as it had been the night before, when Harm had left for the night. Sturgis had left early, the night before, to catch one of Varise's performances, as his girlfriend was in town just now.

Harm wandered back, as he opened the envelope, taking out the single sheet it contained.

"Dear Commander," he read the letter aloud, but in a hushed whisper, "you will probably tell me that I don't know what I'm talking about by the time that you finish reading this. But I know what I saw and continue to see on a daily basis and I hope that when you see the enclosed photograph, you will be as disturbed as I am…"

Harm took a second to dig back into the envelope, finding the mentioned photograph in the corner at the bottom. He took a quick look at it, at the scene of a happy looking family and turned his attention back to the letter.

"I heard about your involvement in the Lewis case and I am hoping that you are the right person to come to with this. All I know is that when the family shown in this photograph moved onto our street, they had four children, although it was rare to see the youngest. This is evidenced in the photo, which is rare in that it contains the fourth child and second daughter. You can see her sitting on the porch. But we moved from the street shortly after this photo was taken and I didn't think much more about it. Now, it is nearly two years later and the same family moved only one street down from us a few weeks ago. But now, there are only three children living in the house and the family seems to be denying that there ever was a second little girl in their family. I have wrangled with this for weeks, not knowing where to go with it. That is, until I remembered what you did for that little girl who disappeared a few years ago and for her twin sister, who would never have been found if it weren't for you. You are my last hope on this; everybody else seems to think that it is my imagination. But I know what I saw and this photograph just proves it. I'm hoping that you may again be able to get justice for a little girl who needs help, one way or another.

The address you need to respond to is; 563 Everglade Terrace, Norfolk.

Yours sincerely, a concerned neighbor."

Harm let out a deep breath and took a look at the photograph again. There was nothing unusual about it. Just four little kids playing in their front yard with water balloons and squirt guns…Except for the one sitting on the front porch.

He looked back to the envelope that the letter and photo had come in. There was no note indicating who it was from, but they hadn't signed the letter personally either, so they obviously didn't want him to know who they were. He decided to get the envelope dusted for prints, but unless the person had a record, that probably wouldn't help him much, even if a print were found on the document. If the person was a habitual troublemaker, it was possible, though. However, this person seemed not just truly concern but very certain that his/her allegations had merit, too.

He decided to work on another case and wait for Bud, Sturgis or Mac to arrive and ask them for their opinion.

"A photo doesn't prove anything, Harm," Sturgis pointed out, but conceded, "Although the person does seem very concerned."

"With all due respect, Sir , the way I look at it," Bud had told him, "is that if I didn't do anything about it and then found out that there was something behind all of this, then I'd never forgive myself. It wouldn't do any harm to check it out, would it?"

Mac was in court that morning, so Harm had to wait until after lunch to ask her opinion.

"Do you still have the number of that NCIS agent who was involved in the Lewis case?" she asked, "If you ran it by her and offered your help, then I'm sure nobody could object to you checking things out. It'll all be above board, that way."

Harm nodded, but continued staring at the photograph. Something had been bothering him all day, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

"Are you listening to me, Harm?" Mac asked, when he didn't respond.

"Huh? Yeah, sorry Mac! I just…something about this picture is bothering me. I've got a hunch buried in my brain and I can't for the life of me think what it is…"

Mac walked around to his side of the table, looking at the photo over his shoulder and saying the first thing that came to mind.

"Why isn't she playing with her brothers and sister?"

Harm looked at Mac, then back at the photo.

"It might be something as simple as she had a cold, that day. Maybe her parents didn't want her getting wet."

"Yeah, I know. I wouldn't look too happy either if I couldn't join in the fun," Harm nodded, noting the sulky countenance of the child.

"Or if I were ill," Mac added, continuing, "Well, if she was ill or not, we know she never joined in, because neither her hair nor her clothes are wet."

"And her hair is a bit messy…maybe she was ill, she looks like she just got out of bed…but her face is dirty and her clothes crumpled. Do you think that could suggest that she was out playing?"

"Not with her brothers and sister," Mac shook her head, "How many kids do you know that would rather play with other kids and not her siblings, especially if they are older?"

"Not many," Harm conceded, desperately searching the photo for something that put all of the strange factors together. There had to be some reason that made all of these little nuances make sense. Harm took a closer little girl and felt his stomach give way and his life as he knew it drop out from under him.

"Look at her hands, Mac!" he whispered.

Mac paused and leaned in closer.

"What?" she asked, not understanding what he was getting at, "I…I can't see them…"

Harm could only describe this as a 'prisoner of war' stance. The child appeared to be sitting on her hands.

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