The first day of work for the New Year Sarah enters the office early. She tugs at her uniform top. She looks down at the silver line between her buttons. She exits the office, and heads towards the admiral's office. Tiner has yet to arrive, but she knows that the admiral is in because she noticed his car in the parking lot on his way in. She knocks on his door.

"Enter."

She enters the room, quickly closing the door. She approaches his desk. He looks at her expectantly.

"Do you need something Colonel MacKenzie?"

"Um, no," she changes her mind.

"Colonel is there something that you want to tell me?"

"I don't know."

"Why don't we start with the safety pin you're wearing?"

She looks down. There is a safety pin between her buttons. She meets his glance.

"Colonel would you like to explain?"

"Sir, my uniform does not fit properly."

"I suggest that you fix that problem."

"I sent them to the tailor, unfortunately they are not done yet," she explains.

He vacates his seat. He crosses the room, and opens a cabinet door. He pulls out a uniform on a hanger with a bag over it. He stops in front of her, and holds out the uniform.

"I believe that you will find this one fits more satisfactorily."

She furrows her brow as he holds it out to her.

"I don't understand."

"I ordered some new ones."

"For everyone?"

"I ordered some for myself, and one for you. Are you aware that we use the same dry cleaner?"

"Yes, sir."

"She is an awfully chatty lady."

"Yes, she is."

"She mentioned that you had just come in to pick up your uniform."

"Admiral, where is this going?"

"Colonel I have made a few observations as of late."

"Sir?"

"You no longer drink coffee."

"It makes me too jittery."

"It never did in the past," he points out.

"Turning over a new leaf, I guess, sir."

"Would you like me to believe that your uniform doesn't fit because of too many holiday cookies?"

"I would like for you to believe that."

"About you? To be honest your self-control around holiday cookies makes me envious. I wish I had that kind of will power around freshly baked holiday pastries."

"I have I ever mentioned that I am also a cookie-holic? I avoid them for a reason."

"So it wasn't the holiday cookies?"

"No, sir."

"You haven't seemed to have much of an appetite lately. I haven't heard the Commander taunt you about Big Mac's as of late."

"Admiral, do you have a question?"

"No, but I believe that you have something you need to share with me."

She nods, "Yes, sir."

"Now is that time," he tells her.

"I'm pregnant," she admits.

"I gathered that."

"I would appreciate discretion."

"I am not going to ask who the father is," he adds.

"I won't tell you," she responds.

"So what is your plan, Mac?"

She shrugs, "I wish that I knew, sir."

"Not to pry, but…."

She cuts him off, "I am planning on keeping the baby."

"Are you planning on staying at JAG?"

"That is my intention, sir," she announces.

"My door is always open, Colonel."

"Yes, sir," she nods in understanding.

"That is all, dismissed."

She turns for the door. Her hand is gripping the doorknob when he stops her.

"One more thing, Colonel."

She spins around, to look at him, "Yes, sir?"

"Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir," she grins.

She manages to switch uniforms before anyone else arrives. She's standing in the kitchen drinking from a coffee cup when Commander Rabb enters. He approaches the coffee pot. He finds it empty. He shifts his glance to her.

"No one has made any coffee," he points out.

"Are you unable to make it yourself?" She questions.

"What are you drinking?"

"Do you want me to make a pot of coffee for you?"

"Your coffee tastes like battery acid."

"Is that a yes, or a no?"

"Mac, what are you drinking? Herbal tea, or some such nonsense?"

"It's milk."

"Milk? You don't even like milk."

"There are a lot of things that I don't like," she turns and leaves the room.


That evening he sits at his dining room table eating a serving of eggplant lasagna. He finds himself thinking about Colonel MacKenzie yet again. He tries to add up all of her odd behavior over the past couple of months. Nothing seems to make sense. He considers the possibility that she's drinking again. He finds himself feeling enveloped in guilt. He feels responsible. He reflects on his interactions with her over the past several weeks. She keeps her interactions with him brief. She keeps him at arm's length.


She's sitting on her couch reading a book when the sound of someone knocking on her door interrupts her. She sighs, and tucks the book into the couch. She's out of her uniform for the evening. She wears a grey USMC t-shirt that is two sizes too big, and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. She looks out the peephole. She groans, realizing who it is. She unchains the door, and pulls it open. Harm entes the apartment with a smile, and a container. He holds the plastic container out to her.

"What's this?"

"Lasagna."

"You stopped by to bring me lasagna?"

"Have you eaten yet?"

"No. Is it eggplant?"

"You know that it is."

"What are you really doing here?"

"We need to talk."

She attempts to conceal the sense of panic that has suddenly set in, "About what?"

"About us."

"There is no us," she reminds him.

"Mac, please."