Hi, everyone! This is the last ficlet for now, but I'm really having a lot of fun writing Harm and Mac, so maybe I'll write again soon. If you have a ficlet prompt that you'd like me to try for Harm and Mac, please send me a message. I can't make any guarantees, but I will try my best. (Also, I'm more familiar with the early JAG seasons, as I can't remember all the new characters in the later seasons.)

I hope you like this ficlet, and thanks again for reading!

Sarah MacKenzie was a damn good JAG lawyer. She consistently fought in the courtroom for truth and justice and helped to put those who deserved it behind bars. She never expected to wake one morning and find herself behind those same bars.

Slowly, she regained consciousness and blinked groggily at her surroundings. Her neck and shoulders were sore, and she could feel a knot in the middle of her back from lying on the hard cot in the little cell. She tried to brush a loose tendril of hair out of her face, only to find her wrists bound together in handcuffs.

Mac stifled a gasp as she looked down at her attire, her usual Marine green replaced with an orange jumpsuit. Quickly, she tried to sit up and found that her ankles were also weighted down with heavy chains.

Forcing down a feeling of alarm, she stood and hobbled to the front of the cell.

"Hey!" she called to the guard just outside. "What's going on? Why am I here?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, ma'am," the guard replied. "You'll have to wait for your lawyer."

As if on cue, Mac heard a door open, and footsteps echoed down the hallway as her visitor approached.

"Bud!" she exclaimed.

"Good morning, Colonel MacKenzie," Bud said politely. He nodded at the guard as he unlocked the cell and allowed Bud to step inside.

"Bud, what's going on?"

Bud placed his briefcase on the table and withdrew several files from it. "I'm here to discuss your defense."

"Defense for what?"

"Thievery is a serious crime, Colonel."

Mac's eyes widened in disbelief. "Thievery? What did I steal?"

She shuffled over to the table and clanked her handcuffs against it. "Are these really necessary?" she asked.

"You're considered a severe flight risk," Bud informed her. "When you're accused of stealing something with such high value and carrying it all over the country with you." Bud glanced down at his files in shock. "All over the world, in fact. Japan, Panama, Italy, Russia…good grief, Colonel, you've crossed domestic and international borders, you've been on aircraft, ships, and submarines..."

"With what?" Mac demanded.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know."

"Well, Colonel, you've got to give me something," Bud said reasonably. "The prosecution will call its first witness tomorrow morning."

"Who's the witness?"

"Peterson," Bud read from his file. "Miss Renee Peterson."

Mac gave a sharp laugh. "Renee? Why on earth is Renee being called as a witness?"

Bud raised an eyebrow. "You really don't know, do you, Colonel?"

"No, Bud! That's what I've been trying to tell you. I have no idea why I'm here. What did I steal?"

"Commander Rabb's heart, ma'am."