There is s cene back in Tehran, where you see Italic, it's Farsi, none-italic it's English.
This chapter is called Dance because there is dancing of many forms, none of it all pleasant.
This is also a series of scenes that didn't fit anywhere else

Chapter 26 - Dance

One Day Later

"You know, I like opening the car door for you, holding your hand to help you out. All of that gentleman type of stuff." Harm cocked an eyebrow when Mac simply jumped out of the Range Rover before he could make it around. It annoyed him to no end, that independent side. At least it was another sign that his Mac was back.

"We've known each other forever. Aren't we waaay past that 'honeymoon' phase?" Mac said with quotation fingers to which Harm responded with a scowl.

"No. We're not. And from the time we met I was always racing to the door to open it for you. It may be a little thing but my mother raised a gentleman. So please, humor me."

"Okay, fine." She came up to her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You're sweet."

"Thank you."

Harm's hand threaded through Mac's as they stepped onto the main street finding a carnival complete with rides, games and booths of all types. It seemed like a big event with the street packed full of guests.

The weather was lovely, pleasant enough for just a jacket and the skies were the prettiest shade of blue. Mac glanced at her husband and smiled. He told her about the event and how Tina had invited them. She was eager to get out of the cabin and share in a little levity with him.

Harm needed it, of that she was sure because he'd chosen to take on the demons with her and they'd almost broken him.

Last night, after the window had been hung, she'd made dinner and they sat in an odd silence as they ate. She reached across the table to grab his arm and he nearly shot up as if being nicked by live wire. It scared her. It scared him too and Harm confessed his mind was in Tehran.

"Why are you thinking about Farid?"

He visibly winced when she spoke the other man's name. It wasn't said with disgust like he'd hoped and although her tone was ambivalent, just the fact that Mac could simply say that name angered him. "I want you to hate him like I do."

Once again her hand reached across the table to grab his forearm. He pulled away and sat back, dark, murderous eyes focusing on the stew she'd made. She hated when he brooded, it was a look that was not appealing in Harm. For some reason it reminded her of Mic and the two years between their engagement and split when Harm acted like his favorite toy had been stolen.

"I don't hate him."

Mac tested the words out only to find that sentiment to be true. In her heart of hearts, she didn't hate Farid and she didn't know why. "I should lie to you about that but, I won't. I don't hate Farid."

Harm stood up so fast the chair he sat on fell with a loud crash. He was seething, his blood boiling to the point that he needed to ball his hands into fists to stop himself from breaking something, anything. "I want to kill him. I want to end him. I want to rip him to shreds."

His words were controlled, said between grinding teeth because Harm didn't want to yell. And so he turned away from Mac and dropped his head into the palm of his hands squeezing his temples as hard as he possibly could. Mac's words from just a short hour ago kept replaying in his mind - her want for him to heal. He couldn't. He wouldn't because as far he was concerned there was a hidden danger lurking, waiting to take Mac away from him.

"Harm, please, please understand that I love you."

"I know that."

"And I want to be with you. Only you."

He let out all of the air in his lungs with a ragged whooshing sound. "I know that too."

"Then let this go."

"I can't."

"I hate when you're like this." The arrogant, self-assured jet-jock who was reduced to a hurtful, insecure man. She saw this side of him over and over when jealousy got the best of Harm and made him feel inadequate.

"I have a reason to be like this. My wife was with another man for three years. Three years and I can't just pretend it never happened." Deflated, he righted the chair and slumped into it. "And don't start with me about therapy. That isn't gonna solve a damned thing. It's never gonna stop me from killing him if I have the chance."

"You had a chance." She remembered. In the darkened alley of the museum when a disguised Harm had a gun trained on Farid. He only needed to pull the trigger but something stopped him. "Why didn't you do it then?"

"Webb was in my ear, talking sense into me." If he'd shot Farid the backlash would be catastrophic and he'd become a hunted man. In the grand scheme of things taking Nazanin meant nothing. She wasn't Iranian, Farid was likely aware that she'd been trafficked and if images or news reports got out with Mac's picture, the Feds could easily find a Marine Lt. Colonel that had been missing for three and a half years. "If I shot him then, I wouldn't be able to save you...I had to save you."

"And you did."

"But I still want to kill him. Nothing will change that." He disappeared out of the cabin, needing the space he hadn't wanted earlier that day. Instead he walked into the woods to walk off the rage, pushed his body until he was too tired to care. Mac sat up in bed waiting but he never went into the room. Instead she found him lying across the sofa, his body in the most uncomfortable position.

On the coffee cable she saw he rearranged the Scrabble board which was devoid of all former tiles and now spelled 'IMSORRY.'

I'm Sorry. She smiled sadly and used the 'O' to spell the word 'Forgiven.' Mac decided she wouldn't bring up his outburst until they were back at Washington and she had the reinforcements to push him into getting help.

"Mac, about last night. I acted...I don't know, jerk doesn't even begin to cover it...but, I acted like a jerk." He held her hand a little tighter as they began walking through the thoroughfare and the mass of people grew around them.

The larger group of people made his apprehension spike although it was stupid, so stupid. She was safe here, they both were but Harm knew he'd live with the fear of losing her for nearly an eternity. "I don't expect this to be easy on you. And I don't expect you to carry my pain. I love you. You love me. That's enough."

He sighed and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly amidst the activity around them. In the distance he spotted a shooting gallery; he turned Mac to face it. "Think you can still outshoot me, Marine?"

It had been years and precision with firearms was meant to be practiced and honed. She doubted very much that her skills were still as lethal as they had been. She was good at one point, far better than any man who would try to outshoot her. And if she were a man no doubt her career path would have led Mac behind a sniper's crosshairs.

Marine's never quit and this was a challenge Mac would meet head on. "I guess we'll see."

A series of three metal ducks were placed in front of each lane, a fair distance away from the shooter. As a carnival game there were always tricks designed to make the player fail and before Mac even took the airsoft rifle, she stood by and watched others play.

She learned a few things like the outside lanes were even unlike the middle. The metal plates were dinged along the same side and no matter how many times someone shot at the indentations, they would rarely fall.

That was a trick, of course, to get players to shoot at the wrong spot and lose. When she grabbed the little rifle everything Mac was taught at boot came flooding back. She took a breath and let it out slowly, to ease her heart rate. The second the attendant told them to shoot she pulled the trigger, a test shot that sailed high and left hitting the backstop.

Harm was shooting as well and missing more than he connected. There were a few solid dings but few of the ducks had fallen over. So she corrected her aim and sent another test shot that only nicked the corner of the metal plate.

"Aim for the middle, lady." She heard a man yell and then drowned out the sounds of other men who had laughed, stating that 'women can't shoot.'

Her finger squeezed the trigger, another correction made as the time was quickly running out. A pellet hit the metal duck at the right spot and brought it down. "Aww she got one! Good job hot stuff."

Mac did get one and then two, three, four. She put on a clinic, even shooting down four of the ones Harm had missed on, finally laying the rifle down when time had been called. She turned to find the men gawking and Harm beaming with pride. "She's a Marine and a damned good shot."

The bar was relatively calm which was how Tina spotted them immediately. It also helped that Harm was carrying a teddy bear so large it hardly made it through the door. The proprietor raised a brow and he grinned. "She won it for me."

"This is true." Mac said with an equally sheepish expression. She'd also won a cash prize, a koozie, a frisbee and nearly cleaned out the stall. They'd given away the prizes except for the bear - Mac had never won one before and thought it would look adorable on the oversized chair in the living room of the cabin.

Tina reached for the bear. "I got a spot for him in the back, give you two some alone time." She winked at the couple and set them up at a small round table near the bar but away from the main floor where some patrons were dancing. "So what's your poison? Bourbon, neat, right?"

Harm glanced at Tina and then Mac. "Uh." It was his drink of preference, he'd even had it around his wife long before they were married. It concerned him once that his drinking may cause some sort of discomfort but after all of these years, after finding her again, he wasn't sure that Mac wanted him to drink. "A soda is fine."

"A soda?" Mac's brow raised in question at the most peculiar request. He didn't drink soda, not even if he ate a sandwich, a pizza or any of the rare moments Harm ingested junk food. He hated the stuff save for the occasional ginger ale if he was feeling unwell. She wondered about the thoughts currently running through his head, the precarious position that he believed to be in as evident by their conversations in the last few days. Did he believe that drinking would make her dislike him? Did he believe it would bring Nazanin back? She sighed and placed a hand over his squeezing reassuringly. "Things haven't changed that much. You can have a drink."

Her heart squeezed when he hesitated - it was such a simple thing but it was another way to show that he cared for her. "You're sure it won't bother you? I don't need to have a drink, Mac."

He looked at Tina and hesitated. "You're sure?"

"Yes. Tonic with a twist for me, double shot of bourbon for him."

Tina had questions, plenty of them but her daily interactions with all sorts of patrons made her keenly aware that Mac didn't drink for whatever reason. It was personal, she realized and as she walked off to grab their orders, she saw Harm lean towards Mac, practically across the table to whisper into her ear. "What if we kiss?"

"I like kissing." Her hand left his to trace a finger along the corners of his mouth. If they weren't in such a public place, Mac would have sealed her lips over his and kissed him senseless. "You're very good at it."

"Uh, thanks but that's not what I mean." He leaned in more and spoke into her ear, his warm breath tickling her ear. "I'll taste like it...like..like booze."

She would have laughed at his concerns if it wasn't so sweetly endearing. Even after all of these years, he concerned himself with her past addiction. It was a trait that made her love him more especially since some men - Mic included - simply didn't give a damn. A shadow fell across her face at those memories, ones of Sarah MacKenzie and Mic Brumby that she really wished to forget. It wasn't one night or two but a multitude that passed between them when he'd have one beer too many and sloppily tried to sleep with her. That should have been a warning that they weren't compatible but she was too stubborn to let it fall apart and too hurt by Harm's rejection to believe she deserved better.

Hard liquor all had their own particular scent, the cheaper the spirit, the worse the odor when it seeped from your pores or dried on clothing. The familiarity of cheap vodka, the stench would never leave her mind and to this day, Mac never understood what she saw in the drink. But the smell of cheap beer - Mic's preference - was stale, sulphuric, sweet and like cardboard. It permeated his skin when he drank too much and forced Mac to wash his clothes at least two times to get the stench off.? Those were the nights he slept on the couch because after a night or two of having sex with a half-drunk Mic, she could barely look at herself in the mirror the following day.

He'd gotten better, eventually and only because Mac had a penchant of comparing him to Harm at the most inopportune moments. The man still drank around her, still the cheap stuff that made her nauseous but once she moved the ring from one finger to another, he had the decency to not be drunk when sleeping with her. "What are you thinking about?"

"Mmm?" She looked up to find Harm staring at her.

"Just now...I lost you for a moment."

Mac shrugged. "The past...Mic."

"Oh...him." He wouldn't hide his jealousy from that either or the anger he felt over such a stupid mistake. Harm could have had Mac then, told her that he loved her on that ferry ride and stopped the rest of the events from occurring. Instead he was scared, stupid and not understanding that what she wanted most was him; just him. "If I could erase those memories, I would...I hate them, I hated that time. I wasn't happy."

"Not even a little?"

He sat back and sighed. Renee wasn't half bad, she just wasn't for him. They had their fun but that brand of relationship was not the sort of thing to base a future on. "Not really. I didn't know how to stop you without hurting you...So I was an ass, it was the only way to save my pride... I'm sorry."

"We're not going to apologize to one another about that either. It's been too long."

Harm's hand took hers, kissing the palm where the jagged mark from a cut still was. He pressed several kisses against the marred skin, happy that it was finally healed. "If I can go back I would, I'd tell you that I loved you before Mic even had a shot. Because I did love you then, Mac...so so much." He delighted in seeing her eyes brighten, shimmering with those beautiful flecks of amber.

The late afternoon turned to evening and the bar filled with guests wanting to drink and dance, to get away from the humdrum lives. Mac enjoyed the din, the ebb and flow of people around them and the sense of normalcy that had been missing for so many years. Farid made her a kept woman, she rarely saw others unless it was a big event when he required her by his side.

This made her take a breath. She was no longer in a cage or held by a man that wanted to keep her to himself and no one else. Harm trusted her, he loved her and was the type of man that liked to take her on dates and share experiences with his wife. He also liked to touch her, something that Farid never would attempt in public. Even before they were together, Harm would press a hand to the small of her back, touch her arm, her hand and now she was ever aware of it. His skin made hers tingle, the way he threaded his fingers through hers held a sense of intimacy almost as if they were making love.

He was chatting with Tina about something or other which gave Mac the chance to simply watch him. Harm was always animated in the way he spoke, his lips curling into a smile she knew he wasn't aware could turn women into a quivering pile of nerves. It had its effect on Tina as well and Mac found herself amused by the interaction - the man was a flirt and that she trusted in spite of that. She knew he'd never stray, never cheat and felt a profound sadness that her disappearance had left such a void in his life. No doubt, he would have lived alone forever if she never returned and it was a life that Mac didn't want for him. It was a life that would have been her own if he would have been the one missing. "I'm going to the head." She told him, pressed a kiss to his cheek and disappeared through the crowds and to the opposite side of the bar.

"Hurry back." His hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her movement to pull her back so that his lips brushed against hers.

"I will."

Mac never knew when certain memories would flood back. She had hoped that tonight would just be about them, that some of Harm's apprehension would wash off. She wanted a happy night with her husband, simple and carefree but, when she began to walk through the throngs of people a man in the corner brought her out of the present. The man wasn't looking at her, he was far too engaged with a leggy blond to even notice the brunette. He casually glanced her way, eyes locking for a brief second but it was his appearance which took her back to Tehran. The familiarity of him that slammed into her so hard, she rushed for the nearest exit and nearly stumbled out to the deck that made up the back of the bar.

"Stop...stop… stop. You need to stop." She held her head, closed her eyes tightly and yelled into the night, the sound echoing over the lake and back towards her like waves. It didn't stop the images playing like pictures and she felt almost transported back in time when she was Nazanin again.

Nazanin sat at the end of a long dinner table, her hand in Farid's, who was lovingly brushing his thumb across her skin. The other wives were not invited, she learned that he would never bring them to social or formal events. She lived in a cage but, indeed it was a larger one and she enjoyed these moments immensely because he was hers and only hers. Perhaps this night Farid would share her bed as well?

The idea made her long for the dinner to end and by the way his other hand brushed intimately beneath her long skirt, skimming her inner thigh. She closed her eyes to feel him, to increase the sensation and used her hand to move his up higher. "Patience, my love." Farid said and his voice made her body come alive for him.

At the opposite end of table a man was watching their interaction intently. He had olive coloured skin, salt and pepper dusting over his beard and short, curly hair. There were wrinkles around his dark brown eyes that bore into her with such hatred it made her afraid. This man knew her from somewhere although Nazanin had never seen him before. His upper lip quivered, his body tensed and if the man were sitting closer she felt he would have shot over the table and strangled her. "My love, I feel heated. May I step away?"

"Yes. Go...I'll be along shortly. Wear the white gown."

"You love me in white."

"I love you out of it as well."

"Hurry then. Don't keep me waiting." She laughed at his flirting, enjoying the attention that he rarely gave her these days as Farid had become far too engaged with his play things. The other women hated her, made fun of her and came as close to bullying as possible despite the tender way she cared for their wounds. Part of her felt bad for them and the cage that they were in, unwilling things that he only used to sate his odd appetites to the point that they were now molded to feed that kind of attention.

They would cry and she would dry the tears. They would spit at her and Nazanin would turn the other cheek just so that Farid would love her. She needed his love, needed to feel like the desired woman he married two years prior. More than often it shamed her, the lengths she'd consider pushing herself to vye for his affection. Was she just not good enough?

She rounded the corner which led to her apartments, the rooms that were far bigger than the other women and offered her the gift of space. Oddly enough, her guards weren't there and while not uncommon, every event always warranted higher security. She thought little of it, assuming Farid had shifted them over to the other women that were far more vulnerable at the opposite side of the sprawling home. Nazanin didn't sense that the odd man had followed nor that he was waiting in the shadows having known the layout of the home and how he could reach her quickly. He stepped right into her path, blocking the door which led to her room.

"Jane? Or is it...Sarah?" He spoke in English but she didn't understand the words or why he would look at her with such a sinister glare. Perhaps the man was confused and believed she was someone else?

Nazanin pressed an arm across her body in a failed attempt to shield herself from his leering gaze. It was unnerving and she felt repulsed by him, scared and angry that anyone would have the audacity to follow her into her chambers. "I am Nazanin, wife of Farid...and you have no right to be here."

"A woman has no right to speak to a man in such a way, Sarah." Again, more English and then the back of his hand connected with the side of her face. It made her careen against the wall, brace herself for another attack. She should run or scream or try anything to protect herself but, paralyzed with fear, the fight was sucked right out of her as was the muscle memory that could have helped her escape. Instead he reached for her, hands digging deep into her bicep as the other pulled the veil off her head.

"No!" She tried to scream, tried to lower her head so that he wouldn't look - Farid would be angry to see her uncovered before another man.

"You will tell Farid the truth, Sarah. You will tell him who you are." He dragged her down the hall turning a corner to the end where Farid's offices were stabbing one of the guards who would come to Nazanin's rescue. He pushed her inside, the force causing Nazanin to fall to the ground in a heap.

"What is the meaning of this?" Her husband yelled as he called for more guards and rushed to her aid only to stop when the man produced the bloody knife and pointed it at the couple. "You are a guest here. You have no authority no matter the deals you made with my uncle or my father… All of that ends with me."

"Why did you marry this… this...whore?" The dangerous man was speaking in her native tongue now and the anger dropping off each word made her shake in fear. She wasn't a whore, she wasn't the names he'd called her earlier.

"She is not a whore… she is my Nazanin, my wife." Farid cradled his wife, his arms wrapping around her to shield away from a madman's rage.

The truth in Farid's words had the man sheathing the blade and laughing. "You fool...She isn't Iraninan. She's an infidel, a Marine officer from the United States sent to defeat me."

"You are wrong. She's of our blood and she is my wife."

The man cocked his head to the side noticing the woman didn't react as he thought she would. There was no flash of recognition in her eyes, nothing of what he'd seen out in the Chaco when he drove a knife through the padding that faked her pregnancy. "Oh...This...She really doesn't remember, does she? Do you… Sarah? How did you forget? How did you run away?"

That was the last of his questions because seconds later the guards took the man by the arms and rushed him away. "Who was that?" Nazanin questioned.

"A family business partner. His name is Sadiq Fahd."

For reasons she couldn't understand, Nazanin shivered at the mention of his name. "I don't wish to see him again."

"You won't, my love… He'll never touch you again, I promise."

That had been two years prior and true to his word - Nazanin never saw Sadiq Fahd again although there had been mention of a 'Chameleon' from time to time.

"Mac?" He found her standing outside on the wooden porch that overlooked a tiny lake with strings of white lights stretched above. Her body was hunched over the railing and Mac was staring out to the water which shimmered in the moonlight. She looked beautiful, he thought but then Harm was clearly biased in that department.

"You okay?" He asked and then his arms wrapped around her from behind. She straightened, Mac's own arms folding over his and they remained silent for a while. The heat of his body warmed hers and she'd never felt so loved in all of her life.

"I'm okay. Just needed some air."

He sensed the tension in her body, felt it although she leaned against him. Harm saw it in her expression when she walked back towards him after using the head and her face clouded over so that she made a beeline for the back door. "You remembered something. That's why you never came back."

Mac twisted her body enough so that she could look at him. That damned connection of theirs was something of an annoyance at times like these when she wanted to repress certain dark spots in her life. "Maybe."

"Maaaac. I saw it in your face."

She sighed heavily and pulled out of his arms hating the way he often whined her name. "Would it be too hard for you to drop it this once?"

Her voice was too hard and far louder than intended. Mac hadn't meant to yell at him but that was exactly how it was received. Of course, he didn't fight her and merely stood with his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his shoulders hunched. That angered her as well. "I can't tell you everything. Not anymore."

"Why?"

"I need to talk to Clay. This...it's…" Her eyes dropped away from him and she felt as if her soul had left her body. "It's Classified."

"Clas-classified?"

"Yes."

He didn't bother feigning indifference. Webb sang like canary to him the second Harm was out of the hospital. Their primary objective was to find the Stinger missiles that Sadik had hidden in the Chaco. The second was the human trafficking situation although the CIA cared little to nothing about that problem. It just wasn't part of their bigger agenda nor was plugging the mole in Paraguay. "I know everything about that mission. I know about Sadik. I know how Hardy sold you out and Alvaro was a plant sent to watch you and Clay. I know about the stinger missiles and even if I didn't it's been almost four years. That affords me a little leeway, doesn't it?"

"It wouldn't if I were a CIA officer."

"But, you're not."

She shook her head. For a moment it all seemed so exciting, fighting the fight without the typical ROE that shackled the military. It was an adrenaline rush that nearly cost them everything. "No, I'm not."

She sighed and leaned into the railing, her eyes falling again to the lake and the glimmer of moonlight shining over still waters. Mac shivered a little when she remembered those cold, angry eyes staring at her. "Sadik... I forgot he existed."

"Oh. What made you think of him?"

"Someone at the bar...He sort of looked like him. Although Sadik could change his appearance at any time - a Chameleon." Mac bit her lower lip. "I haven't felt scared in my whole life, not like that. Not when my dad was beating my mom and I thought I was next. Not being hunkered down behind a humvee in Bosnia taking on enemy fire...He's evil personified for no reason other than he can be." She pressed a hand to her belly remembering how the padding once felt so real and it terrified her to think he could have ended an unborn life. "Did you know? He stabbed me through the padding without a care if I was really pregnant or not. What if...what if I carried our baby?"

"You didn't...You wouldn't have gone if you were."

Mac turned to look at him. "We never use protection. I was on the pill but that isn't foolproof. What if…"

"Hey. No what if's." Harm reached for her again and he was thankful when she sank into him and let him hold her. "We can call the Admiral, even Clay, see what our options are from here on out."

"There are no options, we have to go back...I have to go back to be debriefed and see what else I can remember." She shook from the prospect of leaving this place, of leaving him because ultimately Mac knew her journey would lead her back to Tehran and Farid. It would hurt Harm but she couldn't live the rest of her life with memories of another woman and a life she was forced into having. "I'm scared, Harm. I'm scared we'll lose this."

He only held her tighter. "We're never gonna lose this again. I swear we won't."

"You can't promise that. I can't either."

"I've let you go too many times. I'm not doing that again...Wherever you lead, I'll follow."

Mac sighed. He meant that, she knew which would make her life all the more tricky if Harm followed. She didn't want to think about Farid or Sadik or Nazanin anymore and so she held on tight to him and found they're bodies swaying to the light music muffled by the closed bar door.

She smelled good, he found when his head came to her hair and he took a breath. Her scent made him ache something awful because for too long he went without the lingering effects of her perfume in his office, on his clothes and in their bed. Her arms came around his neck. His arms circled her waist and Harm pulled her so that there was barely any space between them. They'd danced before, yes but always the proper distance away until now.

"This is our first dance as husband and wife." Mac said softly, smiling up at him to see some of the darkness lighten in his eyes. She slipped her hands behind his head and pulled Harm down so that his lips could meet hers. "I love you, Harm… Forever."

Behind them the bar band continued to play the familiar tune. "I can't live...with or without you…"