Weeks pass, and he doesn't hear anything from her. He throws himself into his work as per usual. He tries his best to avoid even thinking about her, but it proves to be a rather unsuccessful endeavor. Unfortunately, every time he sees a marine uniform his mind drifts. He finds himself thinking of her often, despite the fact that he knows it can never work. He has too much baggage to make any relationship work.

She sits in her office, with her back to the door. She is situated in her office chair, the one with the permanent imprint of her butt. The back of the chair is pushed up against the desk. Her arms are folded across her chest. She stares out the window, watching as the rain beats against the window pane. The sound of her yeoman on the intercom interrupts her train of thought. She scoots back, and spins the chair around. She listens to the yeoman's message.

"Thank you," she responds. The voice situated at a desk on the other side of her door disconnects. She stares at the red light, indicating a call on line one. She picks up the receiver, and presses it to her ear.

"General MacKenzie," she answers out of habit, "You want me to come in when? Can I ask what this is regarding? Are you sure that is necessary? Is has to be today? Three o'clock? I would have to leave now. Okay, thank you," she hangs up the phone. She vacates her seat, and grabs her belongings. She exits the office.

"I am going to be out of the office for the rest of the day. Cancel the rest of my appointments."

"Yes ma'am."

She leaves the building, and heads into the parking lot. She tosses her belongings into the front seat, and pulls out of her parking spot. Twenty minutes later she pulls into another parking spot, and shifts the car into park. She removes the keys from the ignition, and exits the vehicle. She steps onto the sidewalk, and heads into the medical complex. She enters a waiting area, and is immediately escorted to an exam room. She sits in a chair, waiting for the doctor to come in. She's barely had time to get seated when someone knocks on the door. The physician enters the room carrying a clip board. He takes a seat next to her, on the stool nearby.

"Can I ask what this is about?"

"I reviewed the results of your physical."

"I don't understand how that is urgent. I was told that it was urgent for you to see me today."

"I told my receptionist that it was of utmost importance that I see you today."

"Is something wrong?"

"There are just a couple things that I wanted to go over with you."

"You couldn't go over them with me on the phone?"

"I thought that it was better to do so in person."

"What's going on? I had a routine annual physical."

"I know."

"This is not the first annual physical of mine that you have performed," she adds.

"No, it is not."

"You usually just call me," she adds.

"Do you know why I wanted to speak to you in person?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"I am going to have to refer you to another doctor."

She furrows her brow, "Why?"

"A specialist. She has a lot of experience."

"Why do I need referred to a specialist? What is going on?"

"You recall submitting lab work as part of your annual physical?"

"Yes," she nods.

"There were some anomalies."

"What kind of anomalies?"

"I understand that your husband recently passed away."

"Three months ago, but we had been separated for six months. Why are you bringing that up?"

"Are you sexually active?"

"No. Why are you asking?" Her voice cracks.

"Have you been recently?"

"Do I have some sort of STD?"

"No."

"HIV? Hepatitis?"

"No, Mac, it's nothing like that."

"Then why are you asking?"

"How long would you say it has been since you were sexually active?"

She furrows her brow, "About three months ago. Why?"

He nods, studying a document on the clipboard, "That seems consistent."

"Consistent with what? Are you going to tell me what's going on here?"

"Is there someone that I can call?"

"Call? For what? Why would you need to call someone? Is it that bad?"

"I just thought that you might like for someone to pick you up. You seem pretty upset."

"I am upset because you won't tell me what is going on."

"Are you familiar with Dr. Whitley?"

She shakes her head, "No."

"My nurse scheduled an appoint for you to see her first thing in the morning. Her office opens at oh six hundred."

"Why do I need to see her?"

She's sitting in the passenger's seat of her own car, staring out the front window. She is completely consumed by thought. She doesn't notice anyone approaching. When she hears knuckles tapping on her window she nearly jumps out of her skin. She turns, and looks at the face peering in her window. She unlocks the door, and the familiar face climbs into the driver's seat. She closes the door, and turns towards Sarah. Her face is bright red, and tear stained.

"Mac, are you okay?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Why did you call me to take you home? What's going on?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I thought that you had your annual physical a few days ago," Harriet comments as she fastens her seat belt.

"I did."

"Then why are you here?"

"They asked me to come back to the office. They found something in my lab work."

"Okay," she turns the key in the ignition. She shifts into reverse, and vacates the parking spot. They car ride is mostly silent. Sarah finally breaks the silence just a couple of blocks from her new house.

"He referred me to a specialist. I have an appointment with her in the morning."

"Do you need me to take you? I will, if you do."

"You have to get the kids to school."

"I cleared my schedule for tomorrow."

"I am planning on going to work."

"Mac, what's going on? What did he say?"

"He referred me to Dr. Whitley."

Harriet furrows her brow in confusion, "Dr. Whitley?"

"Yes," she nods in confirmation.

"I don't understand," she admits.

"You're not the only one," Mac retorts.