Disclaimer: I do not own JAG, Harmon Rabb, Sarah MacKenzie, et al. I've earned nothing but the pleasure of the writing, and the possibility of some nice feedback.

~*~

2017 Zulu (1517 EDT)

Mac's room in the VOQ

Quantico Marine Corps Base, Virginia

"Are you sure you don't want me to stick around?" Harm asks, cover in hand.

"I'll be fine, Harm," Mac moves him toward the door. "I'm going to have a hot bath and then cuddle up in the bed and read through the lance corporal's diaries to see if I can find any clues. Tell the admiral I'll call sometime tomorrow morning."

"All right…I'll see you later," he says, opening the door and finally taking his leave.

Mac opens the plastic storage container and pulls out a stack of the diaries. After grabbing a small pad of Post It Notes and a pen, she opens each book and checks the date of the first entry, then numbers the books so that she can read them in order. Mac decides to start reading two months prior to the lance corporal's pregnancy. Hopefully, there will be some entries regarding the baby's father. Her gut is telling her that he is the prime suspect.

Propping one pillow up against the wall, Mac climbs into the bed to begin her research. Deciding that one pillow is not enough to cushion the hardness of the headboard, she reaches over to grab the other pillow. While doing so, Mac has a flashback of the lance corporal's room.

The bed clothes were pretty messy…as if there had been a struggle; one of the pillows was at the end of the bed…as if tossed aside…

Now, given the immaculate state of the lance corporal's closet, Mac could only assume that, if she had, indeed, committed suicide, the lance corporal would have made her bed and gotten dressed first. She knew it was circumstantial evidence…however Mac is suddenly struck with the thought that Makenna MacReynolds had been suffocated before she was placed in her running vehicle. Why hadn't the autopsy revealed this? Since surely, if that had been that case, there would be little or no carbon monoxide in her blood.

Mac makes a mental note that the first order of business tomorrow is to go back to the morgue and talk to that pathologist, Commander Blaney. She glances up at the ceiling as thunder rumbles across the sky.

She settles her pillows and begins reading. If her theory is correct, she'd need a name and a motive to give to the Virginia authorities.

*

1245 Zulu (0745 EDT)

Morgue

Boyington Med Center

Mac knocks firmly on Commander Blaney's office door and enters when she hears him call out for her to do so.

"Good morning, Commander," says Mac with all the kick-ass-marine, don't-mess-with-me attitude she can muster.

Commander Blaney reacts accordingly. "G-good morning, C-colonel," he stammers. "What can I do for you so early in the morning?"

"How much carbon monoxide did you find in Lance Corporal MacReynold's blood?" she asks.

"What?" he asks.

"How much carbon monoxide did you find in the victim's blood?" she asks again.

"W-well, I don't know, Colonel, there was no toxicology report because I didn't perform an autopsy," the commander says. "There was no evidence to suggest she died from anything other than that, so there was no point."

"I believe that Lance Corporal MacReynolds was suffocated prior to her being placed inside her vehicle," Mac informs the commander. "I need you to perform an autopsy and I need you to do it now. Is there going to be a problem? 'Cause if there is, I can contact my C.O., Rear Admiral A.J. Chegwidden—the Judge Advocate General."

"No…no problem, Colonel," Commander Blaney shakes his head. "I'll begin the procedure within thirty minutes and will be finished in approximately four hours."

"All right." Mac nods and hands him her business card. "Please call me on my cell phone with your findings."

Mac heads back to her room in the VOQ to call the admiral and finish reading the lance corporal's diaries before returning them to her quarters. As she walks back to the VOQ, she experiences a cold chill. Glancing quickly around and rubbing her arms, she doesn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"Yes, Sir," Mac responds. "The pathologist is performing the autopsy now. I believe she was suffocated before being placed in her car. I've been reading her diaries to find out the name of her baby's father. I think he was the one who killed her."

"Good work, Colonel," the admiral says. "When can I expect you back?"

"The autopsy should be finished around twelve-thirty," she tells him. "It'll probably be another hour and a half till I'm on the road; by the time I talk with the pathologist and notify the Virginia authorities. That should get me back to D.C. by sixteen hundred. Do you want me to come in to the office?"

"That won't be necessary," he says. "Go on home and get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

"Aye, aye, Sir," Mac says and hangs up.

*

1909 Zulu (1409 EDT)

I-95 north bound

Virginia

Mac glances up large ominous clouds sailing across the darkening sky. She sighs. Just what she needs after the emotional upheaval she'd gone through the past couple of days…a huge storm was moving in. Hopefully, she'd beat the worst of it home and be warm and snug in her own bed before it got too bad.

She looks in the rearview mirror of her rented car and notices a gray sedan about three car lengths behind her. Turning on the radio for company, Mac continues to monitor the weather. The clouds keep getting darker although the rain has not yet begun to fall.

As she prepares to merge from I-395 onto the George Washington Memorial Parkway, Mac glances in her mirrors and again notices the gray car. She tries speeding up and changing lanes several times, but the car continues to follow her. Mac grabs her cell phone to call the police, but it's dead.

"Damn," she says out loud. "Okay, Mac think. What are your options? Drive to the office? No, you've already gone past the exit." She dismisses that option due to the weather. "Go to Mic's? No, he's still out of town. Go to Harm's? No, he's probably still at work. Of course, if I go home, I can get my gun." She looks for the car once again, but not seeing it, she breathes a sigh of relief. "I guess I'm just over-reacting too much."

The rain begins to fall, finally, as she exits the freeway and makes her way into her neighborhood. Pulling up in front of her apartment, Mac kills the engine and grabs her stuff. Unable to shake off her uneasiness, she hurries inside. A sharp crack of lightning follows a long loud rumble of thunder. The lights in the hallway flicker, intensifying her agitation.

Mac finally reaches her door and takes a deep breath to steady her hand as she slides the key in the lock. Once inside, she shuts the door quickly and locks the dead bolt. She heads straight for her room, and without turning on any lights, changes out of her uniform into something more comfortable, and grabs her 9-millimeter, slipping it into the waistband of her jeans. Lightning flashes several times, illuminating the room.

She tiptoes to the window and peers out, watching as a car comes to a stop across the street. When no one gets out, Mac heads for the phone.

"Harm—" Mac whispers loudly into the phone.

"Mac, what's wrong?" Harm asks worriedly.

"Can you come over?" she asks. "I think there's someone watching my apartment."

"Do you have your weapon?" he asks.

"Of course, I do," she says impatiently. "I'm a Ma—"

"Marine...I know. Just checking," Harm says. "I'll be there as fast as I can. Sit tight."

*

As the storm grows steadily worse, Mac grows steadily more nervous. As she waits for Harm and listens to the thunder boom and the rain fall, Mac imagines that she hears all sorts of unnatural noises. She jumps as she hears her doorknob rattle and grabs her pistol from her waistband.

"Mac!" Harm calls through the door. "It's me…let me in."

"Thank god," Mac says, getting up and going to the door. "What took you so long?"

"Don't turn on the light, yet," Harm says by way of a greeting. "I drove down the street first. There's a gray car parked across the street."

"There was a gray car following me from Quantico," she tells him. "It got off three exits before mine, so I figured I was being paranoid."

"Whoever it is knows where you live, Mac," Harm deduces. "I parked around back. I'm going to lay low. You turn on the lights and go on about your business. See if we can't lure this creep."

Harm finds a corner and has a seat as Mac's phone begins to ring.

She flips on the table lamp and answers the phone, "Hello?"

"Hello, Sarah," says a distorted voice. "I've missed you."

"Who is this?" Mac yells, knowing, even as she asks, to whom the voice belongs. "You bastard!" She slams the receiver down.

"Who was it?" Harm asks as his cell phone begins ringing. He yanks it open, "Rabb!"

"Commander—where the hell are you?" the admiral demands. "I've been trying to reach you."

"I'm at Colonel MacKenzie's apartment, Sir," Harm tells him.

"Thank God!" the relief evident in the admiral's voice. "Stay with her."

"What's up, Sir?" Harm asks.

"I just got a call from the D.C. police…Coster escaped from USP Lewisburg sometime yesterday," the admiral reveals. "The police are sending a couple of cars. Stay with her and shoot to kill if it comes to that."

"Aye, aye, Sir," Harm slaps the phone shut. "Shit!"

"Coster," they say together.

*****Commercial Break*****

"Coster's out, Mac," Harm didn't know of any other way to tell her, other than flat out.

"Oh, my god, Harm," Mac whispers in fear, grabbing his arm in a death grip.

"I'm sorry, Mac. I didn't mean to blurt it out like that," he attempts to undo her claws from his arm. "Can you let go here?"

"Sorry…sorry…what am I going to do, Harm?" she asks.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Harm asks. She nods. "Have I ever let you down?" This time she shakes her head. "Okay, then…the police are on their way. Until then, you go about your business as if nothing is wrong. I'm here to cover your six."

"Right…okay." She takes a deep breath. "I'm bait again, right?" Harm nods. "How about dinner? I'll make something to eat." She heads for the kitchen and decides on a frozen dinner. After taking it out of the box and removing the plastic film cover, Mac places it in the microwave.

Mac jumps as several bolts of lightning flash across the black sky, accompanied by their respective sharp cracks as the electricity splits the air, and followed by thunder as loud as a sonic boom. Not five seconds later, the power goes out. The apartment is left in pitch-blackness.

"Harm," she calls out, the fear obvious.

"I'm right where you left me," he responds. "Just come to me. You know your apartment better than I do."

As she heads out of the kitchen, the phone rings. Mac grabs the receiver off the wall, "Hello?"

"Colonel MacKenzie, this is Officer Franks from the DC police," says the man on the other end. "That last lightning strike knocked down two trees and several power lines around your area. Our squad cars will be delayed. Do you have a weapon?"

"Yes, Officer. How long until someone will be here?" she asks.

"I'm not sure, Colonel, the weather is wreaking havoc all over town," he says as another loud rumble of thunder echoes across the sky. "Unfortunately for you, you are no longer top priority, but we'll get there as soon as we can. Is there someone else you can call?"

"Thanks, Officer, I've already got my own back-up." She hangs up on him. "The police are caught up with weather problems, Harm. It'll be awhile." Mac begins making her way across the room to Harm again.

"Ow," Harm exclaims as Mac kicks his leg. "Watch it, Marine. You wearing steel toed boots today?"

"I'm sorry, Harm," she says, sitting down in the dark beside him. "It's so dark, I can't even see my fingers in front of my face." The room lights up as a bolt of lightning flashes across the sky. "I hate lightning, Harm."

"I know…come here," he invites, searching for her in the darkness and pulling her close. "Mac, will you tell me about your baby?"

"What baby?" she asks, trying to sound as if she doesn't know what Harm means.

"Mac," Harm says gently. "In the brig, when you were out of it, you kept saying you were sorry over and over…when I asked why you were sorry, you said for losing our baby. Now, I know we've never… um…you know…so I know, it wasn't ours. Will you tell me about it?"

"It was awful, Harm."

He can hear the tears in her voice.

"This thing with the lance corporal…I just knew she didn't commit suicide…it brought it all back."

"Was it your husband's baby?" Harm asks.

"No," she says. "It was John Farrow's. I had been on the pill, Harm. I thought I was safe. And you know, back then, they discharged single women who got pregnant. I was devastated."

Harm gives her a tender squeeze.

"It's not that I didn't want the baby, I just hated having to be discharged because of it. We kept it a secret as long as we could." She sniffs lightly and wipes a few tears from her cheeks.

"I'm surprised he didn't ask you to marry him," Harm says. "You could have circumvented regs."

"He would have had I not dismissed the notion of marrying for the baby's sake," she replies. "But about a month later, I miscarried in the office. We were both angry and sad. It was the beginning of the end for us. I think he thought that I did it on purpose."

"I'm sorry, Mac," Harm offers her another sideways hug.

"Well, as much as it hurts sometimes. It was probably for the best," Mac says. "If I'd had that baby and been discharged, I'd never have met you."

"Yeah? Well, that's something to be thankful for, huh?" Harm comments with a chuckle. "Honestly, Mac, I'm sorry about the baby and about Colonel Farrow."

"Yeah, me, too," she sighs. "I've got to go to the little Marine's room."

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asks.

"I think I can handle it," she says wryly.

"That's not what I meant," he replies.

"I know and I'll be fine." She pats his knee as she uses it to boost herself upright. "Be right back."

A few minutes later, Harm hears the tell tale sign that Mac has concluded her business. A loud crash of thunder precedes a flash of lightning and as Harm wonders what is taking her so long, he hears…

"AAAHHHH—"

Harm jumps up and tears through Mac's apartment trying to not bump into or knock over anything important. "Mac!" he calls. "OOF!" he flips over the armchair and scrambles to his feet.

"Hold it, Commander," a familiar voice directs Harm to freeze.

"Where's Mac?" Harm demands into the darkness.

"She's with the man who loves her, Commander," Coster says.

The lights come back on and Harm sees Coster standing in the doorway to Mac's bedroom with her in a chokehold and her pistol held to her temple. He gasps at the wild fear in Mac's eyes as she pleads with them for him to help her. A swatch of duct tape keeps her mute.

"How'd you get in here, anyway?" Harm asks.

"Oh, I've been here for hours," Coster says with an evil grin. "Nice navel ring, Sarah."

Harm raises his eyebrows at Mac. "Let her go, Coster," he orders and tries to surreptitiously get his gun from his waistband.

"Now, why should I do that, Rabb?" he asks. "Oh…and don't bother with your weapon—if I see it, she's dead."

Harm hold up his hands. "Okay…okay…the cops are on their way, you know."

"I don't think so, Commander," says Coster. "I know all about the weather and the downed power lines. It'll be awhile still."

"What'll it take for you to release her?" Harm asks.

"There's nothing I want besides Sarah," Coster answers waggling his eyebrows.

"I'm not letting her leave here with you, Coster," Harm tells him.

"Then I'll have to kill you first, Rabb," he sneers. "Not that I have any problem with that."

"Well, in order to kill her you'll have to take the gun away from her head and as soon as you do that, I shoot you," Harm replies. "Not that I have any problem with that."

"Very funny, Rabb. You'd better watch it, or I just might have to shoot her anyway," Coster says, tightening his hold on her neck. "You've been a very naughty girl, Sarah…cheating on me while I've been away."

Thunder rumbles again and the sound of a knock on the door distracts Coster. As he looks at the door, Harm grabs his gun and shoots Coster in the gut. Coster slumps to the floor, Mac runs for Harm, Harm shoots Coster in the chest, and the door gets kicked in.

"What the hell's going on here?" Mic demands as he sees Harm's arm wrapped around a sobbing Mac.

*****Commercial Break*****

"Thank God," Harm gasps. "I never thought I'd be this happy to see you." He releases Mac. "Are you okay?"

She nods at Harm and grabs hold of the duct tape on her mouth and pulls quickly, "Ow!"

"Sarah, what's going on here?" Mic asks, going over to her. "And who the hell is that?" He indicates Coster's body.

Harm walks over to the body and checks for a pulse. "He's dead, Mac. He'll never bother you again."

"Again?" asks Mic. "And I suppose you came to her rescue the last time, too, huh?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," Harm replies. "But that was way before she even knew you."

"Why didn't you call me, Sarah?" Mic asks. "Or the police?"

"You were out of town, Mic," Mac reminds him. "And I did call the police, but they were sidetracked by weather conditions."

"And did you call them before or after you called Rabb?" Mic demands angrily.

Harm slips out the door with a slight nod to Mac.

"Harm, wait!" Mac calls, going after him.

He shakes his head. "Later, Mac. Deal with Mic now," he tells her softly. "We'll talk later, okay?" He caresses her cheek for a fraction of a second and pulls the door shut.

Mac blinks back the tears before turning back to Mic.

"What the hell is going on here?" Mic demands again, more incensed by Harm's presence than the dead body.

"Coster stalked me once before, three years ago," Mac explains. "He escaped from prison yesterday and has been waiting for me. Somebody followed me from Quantico and parked across the street. I don't think it was him," she indicates Coster. "He was already in here, evidently, when I got home."

"Bloody hell!" Mic exclaims. "You could have been killed, Sarah."

"No kidding," she responds sarcastically. "I need to call the police."

*

2323 Zulu (1823 EDT)

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown

"Who shot the deceased?" asks Detective Brown.

"Commander Harmon Rabb," Mic offers immediately.

"He's my partner at JAG," Mac adds.

"We'll need to speak with Commander Rabb," says the detective. "Is there a number where he can be reached?"

Mac gives the detective Harm's phone number as the coroner zips up the body bag and removes the body from her apartment.

"Thank you, Detective," Mac offers as she escorts him out the door.

"Thank God you're all right, Sarah," Mic envelops her in a hug.

"Mic…all I really want is a hot shower and a warm bed," Mac shrugs out of his arms.

"And if Harm were here?" Mic asks angrily.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks.

"I think we need to talk, Sarah," he rakes his hand through his hair. "About us."

"What about us?" she asks.

"I don't know, Sarah…every time something happens, you call Harm," he says.

"It's habit, Mic," she sighs. "For the last four years I've always called Harm when I need help."

"Well, for the last ten months, we've been seriously involved, engaged for the last five," Mic remarks. "So what do you think it says to me when you keep calling on him instead of me every time you need help."

"I don't know, Mic, what does it say to you?" she asks, not really wanting to have this conversation right now.

"It says that he's more important to you than me," Mic says. "How do you think that makes me feel?"

"Like crap," she says. Obviously, they're going to have the conversation anyway. "Look, Mic…I'm sorry, okay? When I get stressed out old habits die hard."

"No, it's not okay. I think we need to seriously rethink our relationship, Sarah," he says.

"What are you saying?" she asks, holding her hand to her head. "I don't really need this right now. I just had an awful case to figure out and then I came home to a crazed stalker. Can we talk later?"

"No we can't," Mic says.

"Fine. I've never lied to you," Mac begins. "There has never been anything physical between Harm and I. There is something…I don't know what it is…I can't define it. We're friends, we're partners." Mic is speechless. He never thought he'd get an admission about her and Harm out of her. "When he was interested, I wasn't. When I was ready, he backed away," she continues. "When you entered the picture, things between Harm and I changed dramatically…and not for the better…until recently." She takes a deep breath. "And while I never meant to hurt you, I see that I've done that. What do you want to do now?"

"Sarah, I…" Mic isn't sure what to say. He loves her; wants to marry her, but can plainly see that he will probably never take Harm's place. "I think that for now we should rethink our plans for marriage."

Mac nods. She is relieved. The more plans they made, the more nervous and confused she got. The only time she seemed to feel comfortable and in control was when she was near Harm. That certainly was not as it should be. "I'm sorry," she says softly.

"So am I, luv," he replies. Mic walks over and places a soft kiss on her cheek. "Be happy, Sarah…even if it's with Harm."

As he closes the door, a loud roar of thunder precedes a bright flash of lightning. Mac hears the sharp retort as it cuts through the air and a moment later the lights go out again.

The End