The one thing Harm hated about being on a carrier attached to CENTCOM was that the specified theatre of operations didn't allow itself the best liberty ports. A float in the Med allowed itself time for liberty in Barcelona or Naples, but a float in the Indian Ocean, well the turns for liberty was usually what extended some of these floats anyway. Harm learned that liberty meant something different for a CAG than it did for the pilots in his Air Wing. Harm had to schedule flight quals and LSO quals while they were in port in Manila. His first two weeks back on sea duty had been almost exactly what he'd wanted. Karma was a top of the line skipper, even for his first float at the head of a supercarrier.

The skipper ran a tight ship but he'd developed a working rhythm with his CAG. They were an almost ideal team for CENTCOM's purposes, a couple of young fast track officers with outstanding records and an excellent rapport with their junior officers. But it wasn't just that which had Harm in a good mood about his current duty station. First of all, having Bud aboard was like bringing an significant part of JAG with him. Within two days of his arrival on board, Bud had plastered pictures of his wife, son and the people at JAG everywhere he could in his living quarters and workspace. He was also thankful for Kate.

There was always something with Kate. He was grateful for having her on board. Bud, while a good friend, was still one who tripped over rank and had some trouble simply talking to Harm like a friend. Harm's pilots, really the whole Air Wing was too busy treating him as the CAG to treat him as just another guy. It was the one part of sea duty that he missed. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't about the planes, or the catapult; the trap wires or the deck It wasn't about jet fuel, which hung so pervasive in the air that on a good day, you could style your hair with the vapours if you wanted to. It was supposed to be about having your squad be the only thing between you and a six by three plot in Arlington. It was supposed to be about the camaraderie, it was supposed to be about adventure.

Everything it was supposed to be, it wasn't. They were younger, he was their superior. He could drink with them but he couldn't chase and he enjoyed the chase. Even Priest, whom he'd come to view as a sort of surrogate Sergei, was too detached from the kind of company to which Harm found himself seeking. This brought him back to Bud...and Kate. JAG officers both. The skipper was too attached to his ship, as a good skipper should be, he thought. But the skipper was the only one capable of understanding his isolation. There was a loneliness to command that jaded you. It separated you from those under you with whom you were supposed to serve. You were the only pilot expected to be of a squad without being a regular feature in the squad. He'd done his briefings from the front of the ready room, gotten the expected snide comments from his fighter jocks.

"CAG, it is 1900 on our first night in port and you're still going over qual schedules?" Priest stood in the hatch. "Come on, you can't be that much of a stick in the mud at all times."

"Stick in the mud?" Harm peaked an eyebrow at the younger aviator. "Man, sailors sure have gotten tame with the insults since I was a junior officer. Back then doing desk work on the first night in liberty would have at least earned the moniker of 'son of a bitch'."

"Did not wish to piss off the CAG and find myself doing milk runs for the rest of the tour while the rest of the jocks are doing combat trips." Priest laughed heartily.

"Good decision." Harm got out from behind his desk and grabbed his cover off the wall.

"Besides, I figure as long as I'm in the CAG's good books I've got a pretty good chance of making the most of this cruise." Priest watched as Harm collected his cover. "Who's on the mid watch tonight?"

"The XO has the mid watch tonight, Skipper figures on keeping some of our more troublesome members in line by keeping them aboard during the first night in port." Harm and Priest moved out of the hatch and Harm secured it. "I doubt you've ever been anything but a squared away officer. If you ever were, I'm sure that Italian mother back home that you always talk about would rip you a new six."

"She definitely would, sir." Priest laughed. "When I called her and told her that I made Lieutenant Commander, she collected all my brothers and had a block party in the old neighbourhood."

"How many brothers you got again?" Harm and Priest navigated the knee knockers on their way to the gangplank.

"Six." Priest and Harm both arrived the station for the watch officer. "Lieutenant Commander Fanelli, seeking permission to leave the ship, Ensign?" Priest signed the log, moved down the plank and saluted the ship's ensign. "Five older brothers one younger."

"Captain Rabb seeking permission to leave the ship." Harm took the log and signed out before following Priest down the plank. "You have six brothers?"

"Anthony, Franco, Marco, Dominic and Raff are all older, Peter's the youngest." Priest explained. "All of us in uniform, too. 3 firefighters, 2 cops and a Petty Officer."

"Must make for a fun time at Christmas." Harm laughed as they stepped off on to the pier.

"You ever seen a bunch of Italian sister-in-laws in one room at a holiday?" Priest chuckled. "It's like watching a pride of female lions around a watering hole. Anything that so much as smells wrong and crosses their sight, risks consternation and violence."

"I'm sure you're exaggerating, Commander." Harm laughed to himself. It had been a long time since he'd been on Manila on liberty, but he was sure that Priest would know where his pilots had gone to have a good time.

1005 ZULU

MAC'S APARTMENT

GEORGETOWN

They'd watched a movie the night before. Mac knew that he never slept through the night, and that he hadn't really in the twelve years since Desert Storm. At the same time, she'd let him sleep out on the couch when he'd fallen asleep during the movie and she'd gone to her bedroom. His meetings with Sam were becoming more frantic, they were considering when to make moves on staff, where to make appearances, when to resign from the cabinet and most important of all, when to announce. True to form, he'd run everything by her if it could affect the two of them. On the one hand, her hesitancy about this idea initially was being mollified by knowing that he would never ask her to do something with which she was not comfortable. On the other hand, it was clear that politics was starting to become more than just a job for him.

Promptly at 0505 that morning, his cell phone rang and Nate rose up out of his sleeping position on the couch and gave his head a shake. The phone rang again. He fished around in the pocket of his shorts and found it. "You got Nate."

"Turn on CNN." Sam's urgent tone was enough to send Nate groping for the remote to the television.

"Why?" Nate drowsily inquired. CNN flashed up on the screen with a banner across the bottom that announced that Bertram Dunlap, Senior Senator from Virginia had just died of a heart attack at the age of 86. "Well, this is big news."

"Damn right it is." Sam yawned on the other side of the phone. "This way you can contest an open seat instead of running against Norm Coles next year."

"We shouldn't take a minute to respect the not yet cold body of Senator Dunlap?" Nate wondered as he got up off the couch.

"Dunlap's an old misogynist who voted against Civil Rights, did you have some kind of respect for him?" Sam questioned.

"No, I detested him." Nate answered honestly.

"So, what are you worried about?" Sam was shuffling around the tile of the kitchen floor in his own apartment.

"I don't want to appear as though I'm dancing on his grave or anything. Yes, he was an asshole and yes, just about everyone who knew him on Capitol Hill hated his guts but it's distasteful to remind his family that he was a miserable prick " Nate ran a hand through his hair in a half assed attempt to style it.

"Alright, good point." Sam stood over the counter on his end of the phone, eating breakfast and watching TV. "I got a call from Governor Connolly's office this morning, wanting to know if you'd meet with him this afternoon."

"Why the hell did he call you instead of calling my office at State?" Nate was puzzled as he walked into Mac's kitchen and fired up the coffee maker. If he was going to be up at this hour anyway, he might as well be considerate and make her coffee.

"Because one of Washington's most open secrets right now is that I'm your political consigliere." Sam shot caustically. "Which reminds me, you could go a long way in Democratic politics, are you sure you want a relative neophyte like me running your operation?"

"Well, as of right now, there's no operation to speak of. But you're one of my oldest friends, Sam and you've got at least 30 IQ points on me, you've worked with Congress before and Gage-Whitney trusted you enough to task you with setting up their Washington office. Can you think of anyone better?" Nate leaned back against the counter.

"How about Bruno Gianelli?" Sam suggested.

"Why would I meet with Bruno?" Nate questioned.

"Because he's good and because I set up a meeting with him for us at Gage-Whitney after Connolly leaves your office this afternoon." Sam pushed that out there.

"You're setting up meetings now? You know I have a secretary for that?" Nate checked the clock over the stove and saw that it read 0520, Mac would be up in about ten minutes.

"Yeah, but you have the political instincts of a dead cat, so someone has to make sure you end up in the right meetings with the right people at the right time." Sam cleared his throat. "The Governor will be in your office at 1400, after you're done, head over to Gage-Whitney, Bruno will be in my office until, in the Marine Corps I guess it would be 1600."

"I'll be there, talk to you later." Nate hung up the phone and poured a couple cups of coffee.

"What was all that about?" Mac stood in the doorway to the kitchen in her blue bathrobe.

"Senator Dunlap died." Nate explained. "Sam, being the astute political operative he is decided that we could change tack with my prospective Senatorial campaign. He figures that I have a better chance of winning a race in an open seat than I would have had if I'd had to fight it out with Norm Coles."

"Not afraid of a fight are you, Marine?" Mac moved into the kitchen and he handed her a cup of coffee.

"A fight, no. But smart Marines don't go looking for fights if they don't have to take them on." He leaned in and kissed her good morning. "You know, it was easy up in my ivory tower at the State Department for remove myself from the gritty and muddy trenches of politics but now, as I step near the arena, I'm not sure that I'm so sold on the game."

"Well, I never thought I'd see this." Mac moved in to him. "You're a good guy, you'd do great things for this country but you're profoundly capable of getting in your own way. I'm here to support you, Sam's here to guide you and we both care too much about you as a person to let you go down in flames on some quixotic quest. But you need a challenge, it's all come too easily for you. The only way you're ever going to know the limits of your capabilities is if you finally test them."

"You must be something completely and utterly outstanding in a courtroom." He grazed her lips again with his own. "I'm not sure I'll ever be comfortable with dragging you into all this."

"You're not dragging me into any thing." Mac rebuffed. "And if at times it seems like it's trailing behind, it's because I'm watching your back."

"What's on tap for today?" Nate wanted to changed the subject.

"I've got my first appearance in court opposite Captain Ramirez and then I've got a few depositions in the Knodel case." Mac and Nate started making breakfast. "And you?"

"A couple big meetings this afternoon, then a quiet evening." Nate smiled. "Hopefully with you. Dinner?"

"Sounds wonderful." She smiled and kissed his cheek.

1340 ZULU

CAFE HAVANA

MANILA, PHILIPPINES

The Cafe Havana still stood right where it had the last time Harm had taken liberty in Manila. Its proximity to the harbour made it a favourite of American sailors and it's dated appeal gave it a pre-Castro Cuban sentiment. There was loud music and a cigar bar as the pilots off the USS Nimitz made the rounds with the local Filipino women. Harm watched as the mating dance familiar to so many American ships on liberty in foreign ports took place. Most of these places knew when the carrier or even the whole battle group was coming into port and they prepared accordingly. Often as not there was live music, the bars stocked up on beer (usually Corona) and women of both the legal and illegal variety came out to meet the fleet.

When Harm had hit the Cafe originally with Priest but the young aviator had gone off in search of members of the female persuasion and while his offer for the CAG to be his wingman had forced Harm to momentarily consider revisiting his inner 25 year-old, he had ultimately decided against it in favour of calling Bud and sitting down to a drink. Knowing that the Nimitz was headed for liberty in Manila, Bud had called Harriet, who had requested a few days leave from the Admiral who had given her Friday, Monday and Tuesday. Harriet would be in tomorrow morning, so Harm really only had tonight to sit down and talk with Bud before he would rightly spend the rest of liberty with his wife.

"Two beers, please." Harm told the waitress as he saw Bud appear at the door of the cafe and make his way over to Harm's table. "Enjoying the cruise, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir." Bud smiled. "Probably more when I see Harriet tomorrow."

"You're a lucky man, Bud." Harm smiled to himself momentarily. "How's little AJ?"

"Harriet says he misses me everyday, sir." Bud leaned over the table. His son was always his favourite topic of conversation. "He's always asking where I am, if I'm at work or what I'm doing." Bud paused when their drinks arrived. "Do you think you understood at his age, sir?"

Harm knew he didn't. He didn't really understand sea duty until he was forced to on Christmas of 1969. "I think there are only two ways that a son ever understands sea duty, Bud. When he experiences it or when his dad goes away on it and never comes back."

Bud paused for a moment, his mouth slightly agape before closing it and nodding in understanding. After all, his dad had done sea duty, but he didn't really understand it until his first tour on the Seahawk. "I guess that's true, sir. I think we worry that things will be different when we get back, you know, changed by our absence."

"Yeah." Harm nodded. Changed by our absence. It was a nice idea, that some men believed themselves to exert so much control and influence over the events of their life that they could drastically change the course of events just by being present. It was a feeling he himself had been given too from time to time until he'd realized that even five feet from a situation, a person or...a relationship, he could never get his hands completely around it. "You know, Bud, I can remember telling Mac a few years ago, that with all your responsibilities. Ya know, 12 hours of work a day, feeding, clothing and changing AJ, trying to work on a marriage, I said you didn't have time to be happy." Bud tried to interrupt but Harm raised a hand to indicate he wanted more time. "I realized not too long ago, that was what made you happy. The rest of us, and I don't know, maybe it's the result of being a pilot, we look out there trying to find happiness. You found happiness inside yourself. You built your family and your happiness with your own two hands. Good on you, Bud." Harm reached across the table and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"Thank you, sir." Bud looked down at his bottle of beer and tried to play with the label. "Sir, permission to speak freely?"

"Bud, we're friends on liberty, it's Harm and you don't need permission for that." Harm smiled again.

"Right..." Bud took a deep breath. He hadn't really confronted the Captain with this kind of honesty since that time he'd run supplies out to him at his safe house on that ferry while he was on trial for murder. He took a deep drink of beer and swallowed hard. "You could have had it for yourself, sir."

"What do you mean, Bud?" Harm seemed confused.

"Speaking as a friend, sir, if what you wanted was something like I have, it's not like you couldn't have had it." Bud kept going. "With Annie, once you started getting serious, you did one thing you knew would drive her away. You combined a son you knew she was overprotective about with a Navy you knew she loathed and then you lied to her about it. You couldn't have honestly thought you were going to survive that one, did you, sir?"

Harm was taken aback but intrigued. "I guess not."

"Then with Commander Parker, she wasn't angry at you about going back to a fighter squadron, she was angry that you went about it completely behind her back. By your own admission, that whole episode happened at a time when she kept trying to get you to talk about commitment." Bud took another swig of beer.

"Which she brought up kind of early in the relationship, don't you think?" Harm got a little defensive.

"Maybe, sir. But you didn't tell her that. You did what you wanted and forced her to adapt or move on. Which, speaking as a married man, isn't what relationships are about. Then with Miss Peterson, you dated her for a year and half but you wouldn't take any steps to make it more serious. You kept her at a distance. She wanted you, sir, and if a family was really what you wanted, she would have willingly given it to you." Bud gulped back a final drink and requested another beer from the waitress.

"Yeah, but..." Harm stopped. There was no excuse for that one. He was a good man, an honourable man and if one of his friends had left a woman on the hook for a year with no indication of a future together, he'd have told him he was doing something wrong. Bud's second beer arrived.

"And don't even get me started on Colonel MacKenzie, because I'm sure that I don't even know half that story." Bud took another drink.

"Like what?" Harm gave a snort of disbelief.

"Off the top of my head, sir? How about what you guys were doing on the Admiral's porch during her engagement party?" Bud felt like he'd finally expunged all that he'd wanted to say.

"Good point, Bud." Harm nodded. "Thanks for being honest, Bud." Dropping chaff, that's what Mac had called it. Throwing out a diversionary tactic to avoid answering a question he didn't like.

1907 ZULU

HARRY S. TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM

It can be a double-edged sword to know your political reputation. It can both seal your fate and allow you an opportunity to exploit it. Bobby Connolly, Governor of Virginia knew his fate. His dad had just been some poor Irish worker bee that had moved down from Baltimore to Alexandria when Bobby was only two. As a result, Bobby had gone to Virginia Tech and played football along with getting a degree in Computer Science, after bouncing around to a few defence contractors, he'd started his own avionics software company, which went big time and made him a millionaire. This was followed by a foray into politics. But to a lot of people, big time people both in the news media and in his own party, he would always be another neophyte northerner who got lucky in Northern Virginia.

He sat outside Nate Ross' office for a few minutes waiting to be admitted. It was a rule in Washington, the Secretary didn't go visit a Governor. If you wanted something from the cabinet, like seeking something from a Mafia Don, you went and asked nicely. A noise came over the intercom to the receptionist who answered it and looked up at the Governor. "The Secretary will see you now."

Bobby Connolly got up and walked through the door. Nate Ross was everything that handlers wanted a politician to be. He was tall, good looking, intelligent, charismatic and a veteran to boot. A lot of those traits were things that no one but his wife saw when looking at Connolly himself. "Mr. Secretary." Governor Connolly greeted.

"Bobby." Nate got out from behind his desk. "Good to see you."

"You to, Mr. Secretary." Governor Connolly was adept at the political niceties. "You get out to the Congressional Country Club much?"

"Not as much as I'd like to." Nate laughed and put his hands on his hips. "You?"

"Same answer." Connolly gave a chuckle.

"Have a seat." Nate pointed to the chair in front of his desk. The Secretary's office at State was designed much like the Oval itself. There was to be no mistaking that the person behind the desk was the person in charge and you were on their turf. "So, what's on your mind, Billy?"

"Bert Dunlap's Senate seat." The Governor leaned forward. "I got six weeks to fill it before Congress reconvenes. I'm supposed to compile a shortlist but I know who I want."

"Who's that?" Nate leaned back in his chair.

"You." Connolly pointed across the desk. "I want a future within the Party and they want you. It's pretty clear that you want into the Senate, this gets you in. Besides, with 51 Democrats, it shifts the balance of the chamber."

"The Democratic leader in the Senate hates me." Nate rebutted.

"So what?" Connolly laughed. "I hate Hoynes, that's not a good enough reason not to do it. Nate, I'm asking you to do this. You want it, the Party wants it and I'm willing to give it to you. Let's not waste any more time here, I've got shit to do, too. Tell me you want it and it's yours."

Nate dropped his gaze to the surface of his desk. Then he looked up at the Governor again. "I want it." He said plainly.

"It's yours." The Governor gave a pat to the arms of his chair and got up. "I'll have my people co-ordinate a press event with complete contact with Mr. Seaborn's office."

"Well, Sam's a good guy." Nate responded. The Governor turned and headed out of the office leaving Nate standing behind. He tried to work for a few minutes before packing up and heading downstairs to a waiting car and driver. The whole drive over to K street, Nate could think about nothing other than the fact that he was about to be the next Senator from Virginia. When he got to the large, ominous, new age glass doors of the Gage-Whitney offices Nate just shook his head. Normally there would be some discretion involved in having a Secretary walk across the foyer of a major DC law firm but Nate no longer saw the reason for such cloak and dagger.

Upon arriving in Sam's outer office, he was immediately shown in. Bruno Gianelli was a man of average height with brown hair and an exquisitely tailored suit. "Mr. Secretary, good to meet you, sir." Bruno offered his hand.

"Mr. Gianelli." Nate reached forward and shook his hand. "Sam tells me you're one of the best advisors in the Party."

"Very kind thing to say." Bruno took a seat. "He tells me that you're considering a run for the United States Senate."

"That's true." Nate affirmed. "What's your sales pitch?"

"You've got incredible personal popularity numbers, your favourability numbers, including your strength as a leader and trustworthiness are unparalleled. You're young, you're attractive, you're well spoke and you carry with you that whole Marine Corps mystique that screams war hero. You're viewed as being above partisanship because you're a Democrat serving in a Republican administration. I think we could run you from today to election day without ever mentioning the name of your opponents in either the primary or the general election." Bruno leaned forward in his chair.

"Well, I think we may have a development on the primary front." Nate smiled. "Bobby Connolly was just in my office and he told me that if I wanted the appointment to Dunlap's seat, it was mine." Sam and Bruno couldn't help but lean back in their chairs and smile.

1707 ZULU

MANILA HOTEL

MANILA, PHILIPPINES

Harm went for a walk along the harbour after seeing Bud back to the ship. It was the kind of night that most sailors begged for on liberty. You could see the stars as far as you wanted to look. The water was calm in the harbour, there was just enough humidity to carry the scent of perfume into any waiting nostril and there was just enough heat that any activity would make you sweat. Harm was strolling passed the Manila Hotel on his way back to the Nimitz at the end of his walk when he heard a familiar voice call his name. "Harm!"

Harm turned around and saw Kate trotting toward him. "What's up, Kate?"

"We've got an issue." Kate caught her breath. "Shore Patrol is holding a couple of your flyers."

"For what?" Harm folded his arms in front of his chest. "They get drunk on liberty and punch out a couple Filipino nationals?"

"Close." Kate's professional demeanour was unfazed by what had supposedly happened. "They got drunk and are accused of having raped a Filipino national."

"Oh God." Harm shook his head and his lips narrowed.

"Shore Patrol called me a half hour ago, I've been trying to get a hold of you ever since." Kate and Harm continued walking toward the ship. "The NCIS investigator on board the ship left the second we got the call. He's doing an investigation right now, I'm keeping tabs on it but Shore Patrol is holding your aviators on board ship. They want to speak to a lawyer."

"I dropped Bud off at the Nimitz an hour and a half ago. Why didn't you just call back to the ship and have Bud assigned as defense counsel?" Harm's eyes scanned the harbour to find the silhouette of the Nimitz in the distance on the pier.

"I tried, the two of them discharged Bud as counsel the second he was assigned." Kate was trying to keep up with Harm's long gate.

"Why in the hell would they do a damn stupid thing like that?" Harm stopped and turned to look at Kate.

"Because they want you to defend them." Kate shot back.

"I try more cases since I've been assigned to the fleet again than I did at JAG." Harm grumbled. "What did the NATO Force Judge Advocate in London say?"

"That you'd better do it and that we'd better get this matter settled fast because the last thing we want is an extended stay in Manila with inflamed passions around the case. Especially since we're supposed to be providing forward air cover in Afghanistan So, I'm prosecuting, you're defending and the Force JAG has assigned Bud as your second chair. He said that the pilots deserved at least one lawyer still sanctioned by the Navy to practice law." Kate and Harm continued their walk toward the ship.

"We're proceeding directly to court martial?" Harm tried to contain his outrage.

"Both the Force JAG, the Skipper and I figure it's best. It'll nip this thing in the bud before it becomes a public relations catastrophe for the Navy." Kate and Harm neared the gangplank.

"Playing fast and loose with my client's rights, counselor?" Harm looked over his shoulder as they climbed the gangplank.

"Extenuating circumstances, sir." Kate replied. Both of them stopped at the top where they were met by the watch officer.

"Captain Rabb and Commander Pike seeking permission to come aboard." Harm turned his glare on the watch officer who trembled slightly.

"Permission granted." The watch officer answered. Harm and Kate turned, saluted the Naval Ensign and went aboard. Harm was silent his whole march down to the brig. When he opened the door, he found the Sergeant at Arms guarding the two prisoners.

"Alright, Marine, take a hike, I've got to talk to these two." Harm ordered and the Sergeant disappeared through the hatch. Harm secured the hatch and turned back on the two aviators. Both were Super Hornet pilots. "Alright, what happened?"

"Sir, we had just solicited sex from this local hooker and when the police raided this building she began to scream 'rape', sir." One of the terrified young Lieutenant j.g's offered. "So, we both got dressed and turned tail and run. But we ran into Shore Patrol just outside the building and they nabbed us."

"So, the sex was contractual?" Harm questioned.

"Yes, sir." The other young Lieutenant answered.

"But you two were attempting to both engage with one prostitute?" Harm pushed past the allegation.

"Yes, sir." Both men answered.

"At the same time?" Harm sounded shocked.

"Yes, sir." This time more than a hint of embarrassment coloured both their voices.

"Did you two at any time engage in any other crimes including but not limited to adultery or homosexual conduct?" Harm had to tread lightly here. As their CO, Navy regs prevented him from asking if they were gay but as their lawyer he needed to know in order to anticipate Kate's case.

"No, sir." They both answered.

"Alright." Harm ran a hand through his hair. Getting the members to acquit sailors accused of rape was always a task. Getting the members to acquit sailors accused of rape who were willing to admit to an act of group sex would be like trying to single-handedly pull the Nimitz along the harbour-front.

0255 ZULU

NATE'S APARTMENT

ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

Mac had gotten a return email from Harm about a week ago. He'd told her almost exactly what she'd expected. That relationships were animals built of compromise. That if one party gave too much and the other party didn't reciprocate in some way, they would grow to despise each other. Mac was sure that the sea air cleared Harm's mind in a way that nothing else ever could. She was on her way over to his place after a long day at work. She was a little upset that Harm had responded to her email, outlined his answer to her question and even talked about some of the pilots working for him but never mentioned his transfer out to the Nimitz. Had Harriet not passed along info from one of Bud's emails, Mac likely would have simply assumed he was still out at Fallon. She knew what would happen if she'd confronted him about it too. He'd say that he knew that she worried when he was on a carrier and that he didn't want her to needlessly worry.

She stood outside the door to Nate's apartment. Compromise. The word du jour. She knocked on the door and hear his friendly tenor bid her entrance. When she walked in she found the lights dimmed in the living room at the end of the hallway. The music cued up and the stereo began to play "Be Our Guest" from the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack. She walked in and found a couple meals set out on the table with a solitary candle between them. "Hey, Mac." Nate appeared wearing a dark suit over a black dress shirt and no tie.

"You can't cook." Was the only response she could think of that would maintain her trademark Marine stoicism at this moment.

"True." He nodded. "But I can dial a phone for take-out. The food is courtesy of a little place I know in the Greek district, the presentation is all me."

Mac walked over and saw the wine glasses filled with a suspicious purple liquid. "Nate, wine?"

"Not quite." He smiled fondly. He produced a chubby bottle from behind his back that was wrapped in a towel. He whipped off the towel to reveal the label. "Welch's Grape Juice, I hear it's a fantastic vintage." She had to laugh at his consideration and also at his humour.

"What am I going to do with you?" She was wearing a fond smile.

"Oh, I can think of a few things, Colonel." He stepped into her, roped his arms around her waist and placed a kiss on her lips. "Mac, there's something you should know. I met with Governor Connolly this afternoon."

"And?" Mac's doe brown eyes peered right into his own.

"He's appointing me to Bert Dunlap's seat." Nate told her, taking her hands softly in his own. "As of Friday, I will no longer be the Secretary of State, I'll be the Junior Senator from Virginia." He pulled her in for a hug. She was conflicted. On the one hand, this allowed them to forgo the hustle of an elongated campaign season. On the other hand, she had been hoping to use the campaign as a test period for whether she could survive in this relationship if he was going to enter the gladiatorial arena of Congress with the constant press attention that came with that. Then a knock came at the door. Their gaze broke for a second. Nate shut off the stereo and rolled his eyes before heading over to the door.

He checked the peephole and swung it open. There stood a woman and three boys. The oldest looked in his early to mid teens, the next about eight or ten and the youngest maybe five. Mac recognized the middle child and the woman from meeting Nate's family several months earlier. "Lily?" Nate's voice expressed an untold amount of shock.