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Goodbyes 2/?

Two weeks later…

Harm stared at the phone on his desk. It would be as easy as picking up the receiver, hitting nine for an outside line, and dialing her number. He shifted his eyes back to the folder in front of him, chastising his wandering attention. He had a mountain of paperwork to go through, and at least half this mountain was in fact Mac's fault, because he'd had to pick up her slack once she left. Besides what would he say to her? How would he justify the call? He had no excuse to call her. He didn't even have her work number. Hell, he didn't know if she was still at the Clown's firm or if one of those interviews she had lined up panned out. She was living a new life out there, probably spending her lunch breaks shopping for the next thing in designer footwear. It was probably not even the right time to call her. Promises notwithstanding.

He should concentrate on his work. This pile wasn't going to clear itself.

And yet he was possessed by the distracting urge to call her, an urge that had been tunneling through his concentration since this morning. One that had crested periodically these past two weeks. He was just finding it especially difficult to think of anything else on this particular day.

His glance again slid towards the phone on his desk. He shook his head to clear it, before he let himself get any more distracted.

"Hey, Sailor."

Harm looked up to see Mac framed by his office door.

Well, wasn't this a sight for sore eyes. He smiled. His irrepressible need to call Mac had apparently conjured up this very lovely vision in his doorway. He stared at her before she disappeared. She was wearing a light grey suit, with a skirt that ended two fingers higher than her military issue. Her shirt had the top two buttons undone, and he could see her delicious collarbone in full relief. If she looked this good in civilian business attire, he supposed he could see some benefits to her rather misguided decision to leave the military.

"Harm?" The apparition asked. "Are you alright, Harm?" She was frowning with concern, and took a step into his office.

He jumped out of his chair, almost toppling his monstrous pile of paperwork. "Mac!" He exclaimed, realizing it really was her and trying to cover his embarrassment. "What-" He stopped himself before he made more of a fool of himself. Luckily, he'd always been quick at playing it cool. He gave her his best smile, the one that had no effect on her, and stepped around to the front of desk.

"Gracing our humble offices again?" He teased.

"I had to have a word with the admiral," She replied, watching him carefully. "And I wanted to ask you out to lunch."

His ears perked up. "A word with the admiral?" Did she come to ask for her job back? The thought sparked a flicker of hope.

"I'll tell you about it over lunch," She bargained.

Lunch. Of all the days for her to show up with such a tempting offer. "I can't, Mac. I'm due in court."

She shrugged, as though it was no big deal, almost relieved, and in the tiny lift of her shoulders he felt her slip further away from him.

"No problem," She replied, "Rain check?"

"How about dinner instead?" He offered quickly, not liking her cavalier attitude. He wouldn't let her go so easily. "Tonight?"

She hesitated for a moment, just a brief instant, before agreeing. "Deal."

Why the hesitation, he wondered. Either she didn't have good news for him, or she was considering blowing off her plans with Dalton tonight for him. The first thought was as worrying as the second was satisfying. His curiosity, as was usually the case, got the better of him.

"What is it?" He asked.

She considered him for a moment, before closing the office door behind her. She settled into one of the visitor's chairs in front of his desk, and levelled him with an appraising glance.

"I came to see the admiral today because I had some paperwork to complete," She told him.

"Paperwork?" He played it cool. This was it. Paperwork to do with her reinstatement.

"Yeah," She was watching him too carefully. "Remember I told you I was looking for work in areas that were of more interest to me?"

He nodded in encouragement. He told himself he wouldn't rub it in too much, when she told him she'd changed her mind about JAG.

"Well," She smiled, sounding both excited and awed. "I had an interview at the State Department, at the Office of the Legal Advisor last week, and just yesterday I was officially hired! The pay isn't nearly as good as what Dalton's firm was offering, but the work is much more interesting. Right now, I'm advising on a treaty dispute with…" She trailed off, just a bit self-conscious, no doubt because he was gaping at her. "Well, I wanted to tell you about it over lunch. I can tell you over dinner instead…" She ended the sentence lamely, not quite able to look him in the face.

He tried to school the expression on his face from incredulity to something a bit more supportive. But he was having a hard time figuring out what the hell she was saying to him.

"So you're not coming back?" He was sure he'd missed something, misunderstood her.

"That's why I'm here." She sighed, glancing in the direction of the admiral's office. "The admiral held off on processing my resignation" A sudden steely glint of determination lit her eyes, just as a sudden lead weight dropped in Harm's gut. He knew that look of hers – the stubborn I'll-prove-you-wrong look. She was not going to change her mind. He was trying to grapple with her unexpected news, to figure out what the hell was wrong with her, for god's sake, that she would throw all this away.

And through it all, he felt utterly betrayed.

"He thought I'd want to come back." She continued, her voice gaining strength. "Much as you do." That was directed at him with a definite challenge. "You both seem to have little faith in me and my ability to make decisions for myself."

He just kept staring at her, wanting to shake her. All this time, he thought he knew her. But this curve-ball … what was happening to her? He knew she was making the worst mistake of her life, a stupid decision. This was the admiral's fault, for assigning her shitty cases since her Article 32, for mishandling her. His fault and Lowne's.

"Yeah, well." Harm managed to say, not trusting himself to say anything more. He could feel his temper getting the better of him, and was having a hard time not lashing out at her.

"Since my Article 32 and Admiral's Mast," She continued, "I've felt … useless. I honestly thought it would be a service to him and the corps, to open up the room for a senior attorney he wouldn't think twice about assigning high profile cases to. And I thought it would be good for me, too."

He shook his head, thinking Mac just didn't have it in her to stomach the punishment for her mistakes. It was going to pass, this period of crap cases and administrative assignments. She'd underestimated the admiral, she'd misunderstood him, misunderstood everything. But even though he was not in the mood to delve deeper into the issue with the brick wall sitting in front of him, his temper got the better of him.

"Come on, Mac. It wasn't so bad. I thought Marines were made of tougher stuff. The admiral may have been a bit hard on you, but that was his way of…" He trailed off, too upset to continue. To hell with it. Whatever. Nothing he could say would convince her.

"Punishing me," She finished his dangling thought. "I'm not complaining about it, Harm. In fact, it was probably the push I needed to do something."

"I'm sure Dalton helped," His mouth shot of before his filter could engage.

"His firm did make a very tempting offer." There was a forced patience in her tone, like the rattling lid on a pressure cooker.

"And what did Dalton have to say about you leaving his firm for another?"

"I'm leaving the firm, not him," She pointed out, her tone was again forcibly patient, "He's happy for me." She studied him for a moment. "He's not a bad guy, Harm." She shrugged, a shy glimmer in her eye, a slight colour on her cheeks, the hint of a smile. She looked incredibly attractive in that moment. "He can actually be really sweet."

And Harm thought he was going to be sick.

"I don't see it, Mac." He very helpfully burst her little bubble. Someone needed to bring her back to reality. She was falling for Dalton's lifestyle, not for him. Weekends in New York and the Porsche.

"You haven't given him a chance," She got defensive again.

Couldn't she see that she was worth more than all the gaudy baubles and meaningless luxuries Lowne could throw her way?

Her cell phone rang, preventing Harm from pushing the issue further. She fished it out of her purse and checked the caller ID before giving Harm an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, I have to take this."

"No problem," He told her, already decided that they were going to pick this up where they'd left off once she was done with her call, or maybe at dinner tonight.

She turned her back to him as she answered the call, putting the phone to her ear. "Hi," Her voice softened, with that lilt women used when talking to men they're interested in. That would probably be Lowne the Clown on the other end of the line, Harm thought. Figures.

He leaned back against his desk and picked up a file lying at the top of the mountainous pile next to him. He opened it randomly and looked at the words, trying to give her the semblance of privacy.

"Yeah," Mac said into the phone, "I just finished up with the admiral … Mmm … My papers should be processed by end week. There were a couple of minor issues … Definitely…"

Harm could hear her smile, even as his head was bent over the file he was reading with anything but studious concentration.

"That sounds like a great way to celebrate," She continued, a hint of regret entering her tone. Only a hint. "But I can't tonight."

Harm perked up at hearing that, hazarding a peek at her. Her attention was focused on the phone call. She was standing in his doorway, idly fingering a groove in the old wooden door frame of his office, oblivious to the fact that he was right there, practically next to her.

"I'm having dinner with Harm…"

Harm held his breath, perversely hoping that Dalton would get upset about their dinner date.

"Don't know," She continued, her tone still pleasantly conversational. Harm's expression fell. So much for Dalton seeing him as a threat. The man clearly had no problem with his girlfriend hanging out with attractive members of the opposite sex. Harm hadn't thought their relationship was that secure, or that Dalton was the type who shared his toys.

"No later than ten, I would guess…" She laughed at whatever Dalton's reply was, a soft, sensuous laugh he hadn't known she was capable of. He forced his head back into his file.

"I will take you up on that, Dalton," She replied, her tone flirty and mischievous. "See you tonight."

An unfamiliar jab of envy pierced his gut. He focused on the file in front of him. It was silly to have such thoughts about Mac. Just because she now dressed in civvies and had no regs to cage her. So what. Just because she didn't really even look like Diane, as it turned out. And she wasn't such a hardass after all. All of that did not mean it would suddenly, finally be okay to think of her as-

"I'll see you for dinner tonight?" Her voice snapped him out of thoughts. She was standing in front of him. Close enough to touch.

He gave her a wide grin and a wink. Falling back to charm when she threw him off kilter was a tried, tested and true strategy. "Wouldn't miss it. How about you come over to my place at around 1900? I'll make you dinner."

"That's perfect" She replied giddily. "I haven't had a home-cooked meal in what seems like ages."

"Great," He stood taller. Here was something he could do for her that Dalton couldn't. The Clown may have had an unlimited credit line, but he could dazzle Mac when it came to food. He stood up, now closer still to her, and put a hand on her shoulder. It was an odd sensation, to touch her like this. It wasn't their standard operating procedure to share a touch so easily. But she was not in uniform anymore.

"Bring your appetite, MacKenzie."

"I will," She replied, smiling back at him through her evident confusion. She patted his hand somewhat awkwardly, and then turned to walk out of his office and JAG HQ. Harm wondered if it was for the last time.