The entire 11 hour plane ride back to Washington was spent in an awkward quiet, the only sounds coming from either was to flight attendants taking food and drink orders. In a word, the flight was miserable. Harm could only hope his return to JAG would be more welcoming than the cold shoulder he was getting from Mac.
June 5, 2003
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VA
Harm pulled into the parking lot just as Mac was getting out of her car. God, he missed her. It had only been barely a week since their return stateside and as far as he knew, she'd been tied up in CIA debriefings the entire time.
Mac turned as Harm pulled into his adjacent parking spot and smiled warmly. It wasn't that she wasn't grateful for everything he'd done for her, she was just tired of the dance they'd been doing for the last eight years. As he stepped down out of the SUV and came around the side, he returned her smile.
"Morning, Harm," she greeted.
"Hey, Mac. First day back to work?"
"Yeah, the CIA is as satisfied with my accounts of our little adventure as they'll ever be. Going up to see the Admiral?" she admired his well tailored black suit... Well, more like what was in it, "Care to walk me up?"
Applause could be heard as they stepped off the elevator. Rounding the corner to enter the bullpen, they paused at the sight of the entire JAG staff gathered around the Admiral's yeoman, Petty Officer Jason Tiner.
"Thank you!" Harm joked as Mac rolled her eyes, "Would have been nicer if you'd met us at the airport, but..."
The attention shifted to the arrival of the two attorneys.
"Hey sir, ma'am!" Lieutenant Harriet Sims greeted with a cheery smile.
"Welcome back," Commander Sturgis Turner shook Harm's hand.
"What happened down there?" Harriet continued, "The rumors were intense."
"That's classified, Lieutenant. At least until we show up the movie rights." Harm smiled.
"So what's the occasion?" Mac asked.
"It is Tiner's last day. He's checking out," Sturgis supplied.
Harm looks incredulously at Tiner, "Say it isn't so, Tiner."
A proud Tiner boasted, "I was accepted at Officer Candidate School, sir."
"Wow, will you be coming back?"
"Naval Justice School directly after, ma'am."
"We'll miss you, Tiner."
"Thank you, ma'am."
""Well, congratulations."
Mac hugged Tiner, then the Petty Officer turned to shake Harm's hand.
"Thank you, Commander."
"Who's your replacement?"
"I am, sir," Coates spoke up from amidst the mass of bodies.
"The Admiral has appointed Coates his new admin assistant, sir."
Harm let out a breath, "How long have we been gone, anyway?"
"Well, you know the Earth doesn't stop spinning, just because you've left the room," Mac quipped.
"That's not what he tells me," Lieutenant Roberts makes his way through the crowd, "Good to see you back."
"Likewise, Lieutenant," Mac responds.
"Although," he gestures with the file folder in his hand, "Now I'm leaving."
Harriet turns to look at him, "You are?"
"The Admiral has assigned me unassisted to a JAGMAN investigation in Iraq."
"Good for you, Bud!"
"Yeah, way to go, Bud."
"Good luck, Lieutenant."
"So Commander," Bud looks to Harm,"What's the deal with your military status?"
Harm pauses for a second, "Well, that'll be up to the Admiral to decide."
A knock on the Admiral's inner office door, and a response of, "Enter!" Mac and Harm file in, with Tiner closely behind to close the door. Rear Admiral AJ Chegwidden stands as his junior officers enter the room.
"Mac, you all right?" he asks immediately.
"Yes, Sir," she responds crisply.
"Good. Glad to have you back."
"Permission to return to my duties?"
"Granted," he nods.
"May I be granted the same, sir?" Harm requests hopefully.
"Rabb, you, uh, you resigned your commission," he shifts his attention to the tall, former aviator.
"Well, I submitted the paperwork-"
"And I shot it up through the chain of command to the CNP the next morning."
"You've been a, um, civilian for the last seventy-two hours," he read from a sheet of paper, then handed it to the bewildered attorney, "What, you thought I was going to sit on it?"
"That's what you did when I left, sir," Mac interjected disbelievingly
"Admiral-"
"I'm not your Admiral; I'm your former Commanding Officer."
"Sir, he saved my life!"
"Well, put him on your payroll," the gruff ex-SEAL looked between the two, "Mac I am glad to see you, but I am equally fed up with this man's lack of dependability. You know, Rabb You're not a team player. You never consider the big picture, and you are completely Controlled by your emotions."
"Can't argue with that, sir," he looks down.
"Good. So you need to go find something that allows you that independence. Drive a cab, wrestle alligators. Hell, I don't know."
"He's been like this for years, Admiral. Why now?
"Because the admiral has finally accepted the fact that I'm unchangeable, Mac... As you have," he looked up from the paper in his hands, "I have, uh a few things left to gather, sir. I'll be out within the hour."
She looks from Harm's retreating form to the Admiral, still dubious. She takes a deep breath and lets it out as she finds it in herself to look at the older man again.
He meets her gaze and excuses her, "That'll be all, Colonel."
"Yes, sir."
Harm is in his office gathering his things into file boxes by the time Mac exits into the bullpen. She feels deflated.
'This is entirely my fault. If I just listened to him and never accepted that damned assignment...'
She made her way to her office, pausing momentarily as she passed his doorway to look on dejectedly. Looking to her office, Harm's model Stearman caught her eye. It was placed carefully on top of some of his personal effects, in the corner of one of the boxes.
'Its really over, isn't it?' She thought to herself, 'We really messed it up, this time.'
Her attention was called out of her brooding thoughts by his booming voice.
"Hey, Tiner," Harm emerged from his office.
"Sir?"
"For when you make Commander," he frisbees his cover across the room to the young petty officer, "Hope it'll bring you a little better luck than it brought me, huh?"
KRESGE MEDICAL CENTER
PIMMIT HILLS, VA
She didn't exactly mean to be there when Harm was. They just kept bumping into each other. She was getting out of her car just as he was walking past her parking spot. Surprised, they greeted each other and walked up to the CIA agent's room together. He was lounging in his hospital bed, staring at a wall when she knocked.
"Hi. Ah, you didn't tell me you were bringing him with you," the spy looked up and smiled at the Marine.
Already in a feisty mood, Harm retorted, "Just pretend that I'm not here. I'll play with the bed. Gee, I wonder if he folds."
Webb was ready for Harm's jab, "Not when being tortured."
"Did I ever thank you or that?" Mac asked as she took a seat next to his bed.
"Not in the way I prefer."
'Whoa. Too strong, spook,' she mused. Instead of responding in kind, she smiled back awkwardly.
"So we, uh Spoke to your neurologist. He says you have nerve damage," Harm quickly changed the subject.
"Yes, so they tell me," Webb countered, not taking his eyes off of Mac.
"Did he also tell you it would go away in time?"
"In time for what?" unshaken, he continued his pursuit.
"Will you stop asking them to release you. They need to see some improvement in your motor skills first."
If he wasn't catching a hint by now, he never would. Luckily, he leaned back, giving her feelings of discomfort a small reprieve.
"So have you reported back yet?"
"Already been assigned the defense in a desertion case."
"Rabb's?" Clay finally looked up to acknowledge the other man in the room.
"Funny," Harm nodded.
"Petty Officer," Mac explained, "MIA since the Gulf War."
"Right. Allison La Porte. So what about you? Did you have to beg your way back in, or did the Admiral just pin another medal to your chest?"
"I'm out."
"Wow."
"Um, so... Do you need anything?" Mac attempted to break the tension.
"Um Yeah," he began as he started to raise the head of the bed, "What I need..."
He began whispering less than appropriate things in her ear, as Harm rolled his eyes and left, closing the door behind him. A few moments later, Mac managed to extract herself from Clayton's grasp, stepping out into the hallway. She found Harm staring intently into the window of a vending machine.
"Harm, I-"
He cut her off, "Don't worry about it Mac. Like I said, its your life."
"Harm, there's nothing going on between Clay and I, despite what you might think. HE is interested in ME. That is all there is to it. I feel obligated to help him because of what he sacrificed to protect me. He was tortured for DAYS before you arrived."
"That's not exactly what it looked like when Webb was whispering sweet nothings in your ear a few moment ago."
She threw her hands up, exhaling loudly as she turned and walked toward the exit.
Harm sat in his mostly dark apartment, playing a tune on his guitar that he wasn't sure he himself made up, or just remembered. Reminiscing about his legal career and all of the friends he made along the way, his thoughts turned to his ex-partner. The day they met, her face, the way she felt pressed to his body, how well she fit in his arms, the kisses they'd shared, the one night in Paraguay that could have changed everything. That did change everything. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud rap on the door.
"It's open!" he stopped playing the guitar, "Hey. Don't you usually work late?"
Sturgis tossed his cover to the side, "Don't you?"
"Well, you better talk to the Admiral about that," he sighed.
"No, that's suicide. He's heavy on your case, brother," Sturgis walked to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and settling down into the chair across from Harm.
"Yeah, for rescuing Mac?"
"For resigning your commission."
"Well, I had to. He wouldn't let me go any other way," Harm picked up a beer from the floor next to his seat.
"I think he took it as a slap in the face. He was offended that your respect for his authority had a ceiling. It's a new day at JAG, Harm. He's bolting his cannons to the deck."
"Well, he tossed this one overboard," Harm took a deep swig from the brown bottle.
"It puts Bud next in line for senior responsibilities."
"Oh. At least somebody benefited from my misfortune."
"He's not ready."
"You can't be objective, Sturgis. You're still angry he smudged your reputation."
"It's just proof that he's not ready."
"He had a confidence problem. He's okay now."
Sturgis stared off into the distance, fiddling with his bottle cap, "I'd like to consider myself a forgiving Christian, but I'm having problems with this one."
"Well, if it's any consolation, I forgive you for having a job I still want."
Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of Harm's phone. He stood up, clearing his throat and playing a few simple chords on his way, "Hello? You're talking to him. No, Friday morning's a little... All right, I-I'll be there."
"A job offer?"
"CIA. Deputy Director wants to see me."
"What did you do?"
After the day she'd had, Sarah MacKenzie felt like taking a long, steaming hot shower and falling into bed for the next 48 hours. On a whim, she changed direction and heading northwest to Pimmit Hills, instead of home. She heard voices as she arrived at Clayton Webb's room, one she didn't recognize, and two she did. Clay, Harm and a woman were discussing Harm joining the CIA, Clay even giving him the 'Welcome to the brotherhood' bit.
She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She turned around quickly, and left the building still in disbelief. Her Harm working for the Company. She couldn't help but think about what that would mean for the fragments of their relationship that she was still desperately grasping. She made a mistake when she told him never, and with a job like this, she may never get the chance to make it right.