A/N: Well, another update. Thanks as always for the reviews! I've neglected thanking you all and I want you all to know I appreciate all who read my work and review. Have a great night!

Gone

Chapter 25: Detour

December 24th, 2005

2321 Local

Vietnam War Memorial

Washington, DC

Mac stood in the shadows and suppressed a shiver. It wasn't all that cold for DC in December, but she'd been standing here for the last forty-five minutes, and the cool air was starting to penetrate even her Montana-approved winter parka. She checked her watch again, the combination of pregnancy and nerves having short-circuited her time sense at the moment, and figured that Harm should be there within the next half hour; in all the years she'd known him, he'd always visited the Wall after the annual Christmas Eve service. Depending on how long the service went, he would generally arrive between eleven-thirty and midnight. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she continued to scan the small crowd that milled around the war memorial, keeping her eyes open for Harm's impressively tall figure.

Mac had arrived in Washington that afternoon, relieved that she hadn't seen anyone she knew from when she was still Sarah MacKenzie. She hadn't checked any luggage, so as soon as she was off the plane, she rushed to the rental car counter, picked up her car, then hightailed it to her hotel. She tried to relax by taking a warm bath and it helped somewhat; her muscles lost some of their tension, but it seemed to awaken her son. The baby inside kicked and rolled, and despite her apprehension regarding her trip here, her son's movements still gave her a sense of effervescent joy.

After a light supper courtesy of room service, Mac had tried her best to nap, but her efforts were futile. She'd finally left for the Wall around 2245, and now she waited…

December 24th, 2005

2100 Local

Afghanistan, exact location classified

Harm flopped back on his cot. Since he'd been tapped for this particular, his days had pretty much run together, and it was with surprise that he realized it was Christmas Eve. Though it was late and he was tired, Harm climbed out of bed and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the small "desk" in his quarters. What passed for his desk here was a rather small table that rocked on uneven legs and a paper accordion-type file holder. He had a laptop too, but that was strictly for military use.

For the last few months now, he found himself in various camps providing guidance on ROE, flying various classified missions, all while being relatively incommunicado with everyone but his CCDR. He ached to talk to Mac and everyday he wished he'd had the opportunity to communicate with her before he took on this duty. In lieu of that, he'd written her letters at least twice a week, then stored them in the pack he carried with him everywhere. As soon as he finished his work here, he intended to deliver them to her in person, whether she wanted him to or not.

Harm still had the feeling that Mac needed him, or maybe his need for her was so great that it just felt that way, but all he could do was pour his heart out to her in short, handwritten notes. As was Christmas, however, she deserved something more…

My Dearest Mac,

Merry Christmas, sweetheart. It's crazy to think that it's already been a year since you came out to the farm for our first Christmas together. I had hoped we'd be together this year as well, married, maybe even a child on the way (I haven't forgotten our deal and you know I never make a promise I don't intend to keep), but the best laid plans, as they say…

I've made a decision. After this 'mission' I fully intend to retire, and yes, it is because I want to be with you. Now, don't give me that look…I gave up the navy once to come after you in Paraguay and I'd do it all over again, but this time it's different. Before I had visions of sweeping you off your feet and then riding off into the sunset with you. I had no idea about the details; I figured everything would just fall into place once I found you, and when it didn't, I became a jealous, bitter bastard.

This time, I've had more time to plan…first there were all those months when no one had any idea where you were, then there was the beautiful time in between then and now where we finally knew each other's love, and now we've had these months of separation. Through all of that, I have had one goal in mind…you. Understand, I do love the navy, but since I found you again, it hasn't had the same hold on me. I've experienced life without the navy and I've experienced life without you—let me tell you, my love, life without you was infinitely worse. I know you're going to tell me that I shouldn't leave the navy again for you, or you'll tell me that I'm only 'threatening' to give it up for you so you'll be guilted into coming back here with me. That isn't it at all, Mac. I'm giving it up because there is absolutely nothing more important in my life than you. I can see us raising our babies in Whitefish, me flying for search and rescue or medical flights, and you…you can do whatever you want, just as long as you let me be with you.

I'm not sure how much longer I'll be here, but as soon as I land back in Falls Church, I'll tell the admiral I'm leaving. My letter of resignation is already written so there's no going back now ;)

I'll sign off now…like every night since I last saw you, I'm sure I'll dream of you. I hope it's a happy one.

Merry Christmas, my darling ninja girl.

I love you

-H

Harm folded up his letter to Mac and put it with the rest of his notes to her, then climbed back into bed. It occurred to him then that this would be the second year in a row that he didn't get to visit his father at the Wall. He felt a pang of sadness about that and sent up an apology to his dad, then drifted off with tears in his eyes. As he succumbed to slumber, however, it wasn't his tears on his mind. It was Mac's…

December 25th, 2005

0007 Local

Vietnam War Memorial

Washington, DC

"He isn't coming, is he…" Mac whispered as she ran a fingertip over Harm, Sr's name. She listened to the quiet around her, knowing she should get back to her hotel and warm up but still hoping Harm was merely later than usual. She waited another five minutes before she kissed her fingers and pressed them to her baby's grandfather's name, noting that the crowds were thinning even more. It probably wasn't exactly safe to be out here anymore, and she was truly shivering now, so she reluctantly returned to her car.

An hour later, she was back in her hotel room, curled up on the bed in a fluffy white robe with a pillow clutched to her chest. She had taken a quick shower to warm up, made herself some tea from the selection that was in the room, but had only taken a few sips before the stress of the day completely caught up with her and she lay down and let the tears fall. She had no idea what to do next. Logic dictated that if Harm hadn't come to the Wall, he wasn't in town, but that was small comfort.

Mac was tired of facing this alone…yes, she had Mary and Dan, but what she really needed was her baby's father. She needed Harm to know about his son, the little boy who was definitely all legs just like him. As if in acknowledgement of her thoughts, her son gave her a sharp kick that was almost painful, and she quickly slid her hand underneath her robe to rub circles over her belly, hoping to soothe the baby despite her frantic thoughts. As she felt the baby move under her hand, she wished it was Harm's hand resting there, holding her close, protecting both her and their son.

Mac slept in fits and starts before she finally achieved deeper slumber around 0500. She awoke some four hours later feeling somewhat better and immediately grabbed her phone, knowing that she should call Mary and update her on last night's events.

When she hung up the phone after wishing Mary and Dan a Merry Christmas, she flopped back on the bed. She supposed she should call the airline and book a flight home, but she certainly didn't relish getting right back on an airplane, her 'mission' here a failure. After several moments of indecision, she decided she'd just rest today. There was no sense in facing another stressful wait so soon in an airport, where someone from her past could easily discover her.

Yes…just rest, Mac…

Mac smiled absently to herself. The voice in her mind had sounded suspiciously like Harm's, and it gave her comfort.

December 28th, 2005

1222 Local

Washington Marriot Georgetown

Washington, DC

Three days later, and Mac still hadn't made up her mind as to what she should do about Harm. She'd tried his cell a few times, getting the same message she'd gotten for nearly three months. She'd ventured out a couple of times, never getting out of her car, feeling an overwhelming sadness as she drove by her old apartment and then Rock Creek Park, where she and Harm had gone running together innumerable times. She spoke to Mary twice a day, who reassured her that she was doing fine at the store without her, continued to run up quite the room service bill, took warm baths in the huge whirlpool tub in the room, and tried to read a couple of books she'd purchased in the hotel giftshop. Neither were very interesting it turned out, but they occasionally helped pass the time. Most of her time, however, was fruitlessly spent thinking up ways to locate Harm without any contact with the JAG office.

Mac had just finished a meager salad and was now pacing about her room, trying to keep herself from taking another drive. It wasn't that she was worried about the gas for her rental, or even that someone she knew would see her. Even in her most fearful times, she knew the likelihood of someone recognizing her as she drove around in a city of millions was about as close to zero as you could get.

This time, she was worried she'd find herself at Harm's apartment.

The last time she'd been there, Harm had spoken so cruelly to her. He'd been angry, furious even, and he'd hurt her terribly. Yes, she'd hurt him too, but even in light of that, his behavior had been rather shocking. The father of her child had long since made amends for that, but she wondered if seeing his apartment would take her back to that most wretched moment in time.

That wasn't what really worried her though…

What really worried her about being at Harm's apartment was the silver key marked with red nail polish that still hung from her keychain…the key to Harm's apartment. He very well could have changed the locks, especially since the last time she was there she'd just let herself in, but somehow, she doubted it. It had taken her long enough to convince him to stop leaving a spare key in the mailbox where any idiot could find it.

Mac could picture herself sliding the key in the lock before pushing the door open. She'd step inside and be overwhelmed at the sight of his things and wouldn't be able to resist running her hands over them. Then she'd climb the stairs to his bedroom lie down on his bed, a bed she'd fantasized about many, many times…no, she shouldn't go there…

She wouldn't go there…

She wouldn't…

But she would…

1301 Local

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

It happened just the way she'd imagined it, though she did knock before she pulled out her key. Once she entered the apartment, she could tell Harm hadn't been there for a while and that no one else was staying there either.

Harm's bed still smelled like him, despite having been empty for months. She snuggled into it, clutching his pillow to her, and she could have sworn the baby knew she was in his daddy's home. Harm the third's (she hadn't actually settled on any names) movements were gentle but frequent and for long moments she just enjoyed this 'closeness' with Harm and their child. Eventually she got up and silently walked to the bathroom, finding a half-empty bottle of his aftershave in the medicine cabinet that made her nearly cry at the familiar scent of it. Feeling a little foolish and maybe even a little guilty, she slid the bottle into the pocket of the hoodie she wore. Surely he wouldn't mind if she kept this olfactory memory of him.

Mac's next destination was his bedroom closet. She'd never seen inside it and was surprised at how spacious it was. She recognized much of the clothing in there, including the suit jacket he'd worn the night of her engagement party to Mic. She'd always wondered if Rene had noticed the scent of another woman on that jacket, just as she'd wondered if Mic could smell Harm on her. Actually, she'd had no doubt that he noticed the subtle hint of Harm's aftershave about her. Though he'd acted every bit the happy groom, his touches were harsher, his lovemaking rougher in the ensuing days. Mac knew now she'd dodged a bullet when Mic left town.

Mac had just found the bag containing Harm's mess dress uniform when she noticed a pair of familiar boxes on the floor in the back of the closet. Upon closer inspection, she realized that they were the same boxes she'd used to pack her belongings before putting them all in storage. She'd never asked what Harm had done with everything else besides the little table now resided by the front door of his grandmother's farmhouse, but obviously he'd kept at least a few things.

Unable to stop herself, Mac pulled the boxes into the light of the bedroom and opened the flaps of them. Both boxes contained some of Mac's more risqué novels and she blushed at the thought of Harm finding those. She pulled them out and set them aside, then decided that since they had been her books once upon a time, she'd take a couple with her back to the hotel. She remembered them being far more interesting than the books she had left back there.

It was what was underneath the novels that gave Mac pause. She felt her face heat up once again as a lump formed in her throat, nearly choking her as she reached in for the first photo book. She recognized the cover and knew what it contained—pictures from her first years at JAG. Two more photo books were beneath it, more chronicles of her career as a marine JAG officer.

Many minutes later, Mac sat in the middle of Harm's bedroom surrounded by pictures of her life. The book that now rested in her lap was the most painful to go through; she didn't know why she felt the need to torture herself by looking at it again, but here she was, studying it for the third time. She'd actually managed to keep her tears at bay while she'd looked through it the first couple of times and while she'd looked through the rest, but now her tear tears slid silently down her cheeks, landing on the plastic sheeting covering each page. It killed her to see one of her favorite photos of her and Harm—the one taken of them at little AJ's baptism. She was holding the baby while Harm had his arm around her. Both were looking down at the infant, and in that moment, Mac had known she was being held by the father of her children. She'd suppressed that thought over the years, but now it came back full force. After all, it was true.

The pages before contained many casual pictures of the JAG crew, and her tears began anew as she gazed at them again.

"We looked happy," she said out loud to the air around her. "Like a family." It had been true at the time; they had been a little family. Bud and Harriet were the siblings she'd never had, Admiral Chegwidden was the father figure, and Harm…well, Harm was everything.

And Paraguay ruined it all. She had ruined it all.

No, you weren't the only one, Sarah. The voice in her head, the one that sounded like Harm, shocked her with the use of her old name. Harm had almost exclusively called her Mac since he'd found her, and to everyone else she was Sam. Mary called her Mac now in private, Sam or Samantha in public, but nobody called her Sarah. She wasn't even sure she wanted anyone to.

Mac pushed the book off her lap and grabbed another one. This one had pictures of her in her marine greens, and she was astounded at the lance of pain that went through her chest at the sight of them. She'd loved being a marine, loved the strength the Corps had given her, but had left that all behind. Now that she'd settled in Montana, she found she didn't really miss it. Yes, she'd missed Harm, missed little AJ, but not the reason she even knew those people.

Perhaps that was the source of her pain: the fact that something that had been so significant in her life could be just tossed aside…

Tossed aside like she'd been by her 'friends' at JAG…

With that thought, she struggled to stand up, only to throw herself down on Harm's bed and sob…sob until she fell asleep atop tear-soaked covers, one arm around Harm's pillow, the other snaked underneath it to cover where her baby slept too.

Mac awoke in a dark room, utterly disoriented until she noticed the clock on Harm's dresser. She'd been asleep for almost seven hours and her stomach growled with hunger. She pulled herself out of bed and found the light switch, then retrieved a granola bar she'd stashed in her purse. She was thankful she'd packed a bottle of water as well; Harm had obviously shut the water off before he left. There were bigger problems related to that—she had to use the restroom quite badly and despite the later hour, she would need to risk going outside in this particular neighborhood and get herself back to her hotel room. She didn't bother to pick up the photo albums; she found she didn't care if Harm knew she'd been in his apartment and when she felt a certain warmth settle around her, she knew he wouldn't mind. She also knew now he hadn't abandoned her though she didn't know where he was or what he was doing. She just had the sense he was still with her, encouraging her.

You can do this, Mac, his voice sounded in her ear, and it wasn't until she saw the photo of the two of them in Afghanistan on Harm's bookshelf, that she knew what, exactly, she could do.

"Harm, I don't think…" she whispered.

Yes, you can, Mac. You will. You need me now more than ever, and there's only one way to find me…

"There's only one way to find him," she whispered to herself, and with a resolve she never knew she'd feel again, she knew what she had to do…what she was going to do.

December 29th, 2005

0911 Local

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

Lieutenant Harriet Sims stepped out of the admiral's office clutching a handful of files and a mug of coffee. From the corner of her eye, she saw the bullpen doors open and a woman step inside. She saw enough to know the woman had dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, but beyond that, she didn't bother with a second look.

It wasn't until she'd set the files down on her desk that she realized the atmosphere in the JAG office had abruptly changed. All ambient chatter had stopped, all clicks and clacks of computer keyboards had ceased, and you couldn't even hear anyone breathe. Slowly, Harriet turned around and followed everyone's eyes to the tall, pregnant, woman that now stood in the center of the room.

All the blood drained from her face and she felt dizzy and she desperately reached for a chair to steady herself. The mug of coffee she'd been holding slipped from her grip, shattering on the floor as the hot liquid splashed on her shoes and legs. She didn't even notice the scalding heat of it, so shocked was she.

Harriet Sims had just seen a ghost.

End Chapter 25