A/N: A bit of housekeeping in this chapter. Had to get rid of the Video Princess. Does Lt. Col. Hughes remind you a bit of Vicpuke? (I know, get the bleach.) Anyway… Harm and Mac have always had a connection.

Connecting

JAG Headquarters
June 12, 2001
1130 Local

Col. Sarah Mackenzie stormed across the bullpen, her heels clicking on the tile flooring. She entered her office, then slammed the door behind her.

Harm had pulled some sneaky things in the courtroom, but never anything like Lt. Cdr. Hughes did today. Even Lauren Singer's tactics were mild compared to what this man did. Mac was convinced he would do anything to win.

The sad thing was, Mac had fallen for it. Hook, line, and sinker. And when he pulled the virtual rabbit from the hat, she had been taken totally by surprise. The members could see it in her face. Her ill-preparedness could ultimately be responsible for letting a guilty man go free. But it was hard to concentrate on her job when her mind was always on Harm.

Maybe I should ask for a few days leave.

Mac looked up when someone knocked. Before she had a chance to say anything, the door opened. None other than the object of her wrath walked in.

"Colonel? No hard feelings, I hope. I was just doing my job." Lt. Cdr. Hughes flashed a smile.

"Do you not know what a CLOSED door means?"

"Woah, woah, woah. Take a chill pill. I just came to apologize. Why don't I buy you lunch?"

"Get out! Now! Don't ever tell me what to do! And NEVER come into this office again without my permission. Is. That Clear?"

"Crystal." Hughes turned and left.

Commander Rabb. You sandbagged me with that ricocheting bullets line.

Mac, I'm just doing my job. Come on. I'll buy you lunch.

Despite her anger with Hughes, Mac smiled at the memory. She'd been furious with Harm that day, but nothing like with Hughes now. Harm wanted to get to the truth. Mac had the impression Hughes was out to win and would stop at nothing to achieve his goal. Ethics be damned.

"Oh, Harm. I miss you so much. Please come back."

North of Union Station
June 12, 2001
1800 Local

Mac entered Harm's apartment, took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. After her visit with Trish the evening before, both women decided it would be best for her to stay here at night. They felt it was important for Mac to be in a place where she felt the closest connection to Harm. Their hope was she would be able to use her "gift" to locate him.

At one time, she would have also spent some time Harm's office after hours. But that changed with the arrival of Lt. Cdr. Sleaze. Mac still fumed about the stunt he pulled in court today. The man was a disgrace to his uniform and the United States Navy.

How he made it through OCS was a mystery. And she didn't know how she was going to "partner" with him. Maybe she would ask for a transfer out of headquarters. Now that she was no longer engaged, and with her best friend and partner gone, there was nothing to keep her in DC.

What am I thinking? Harm is alive. I feel it. I know it—and he is coming back.

Inside the apartment, she walked up the steps to the bedroom, then hung her uniform in the closet. Harm's dress whites, mess dress, and service blues still hung there, just as he had left them when he went TAD to the Patrick Henry.

You know what they say about dress whites and gold wings?

Highly overrated.

No, they weren't. At least not when worn by a 6'4" Naval Commander with eyes as blue as the sea and a smile that could make her heart flutter. How could she have been so stupid as to allow Mic to take over her life? She could never feel for him what she felt for Harm.

And if he was alive, she was going to damn sure make certain he knew how she felt. Even if he didn't return the feelings, she wasn't going through life under the pretense of loving another man.

Mac straightened her uniform on the hanger, then took her seabag into the bathroom. A quick shower would refresh and revitalize her, then she'd call in an order for Chinese or something. Cooking wasn't her favorite thing anyway, and she didn't want to spend a lot of time in the kitchen. The longer she could devote to "connecting" with her flyboy, the better chances of finding him.

Twenty minutes later, she dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a Naval Academy tee shirt she once confiscated from Harm. She walked to the kitchen, then picked up the phone to call for takeout when she heard a key turn in the door.

Trish had a key, but she had left early this morning for San Diego. Before Mac had time to react, the door swung opened and none other than the Video Princess walked into the apartment. A tall man with dark hair and bushy eyebrows followed her. He looked like a spineless wimp.

"I'll only be a few minutes, Cyrus."

"Take as long as you need, dear."

Renee started toward the bedroom when she saw Mac standing in the kitchen. "Mac! How did you get in?"

"With the spare key Harm gave me years ago. He also has one to my apartment."

"Had one, you mean. What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you the same thing."

"I doubt Mrs. Burnett would be pleased to know you're hanging around his apartment."

"Trish knows I'm here and supports my reasons."

Renee cocked an already high-arched brow. "Oh? What might that be? And just when did you get to be on a first-name basis with Harm's mother?"

Mac decided to go for the jugular. She'd never cared for the bitch director from hell. After the escapade she pulled at the prayer vigil… "I gather you aren't since you keep referring to her as Mrs. Burnett."

Renee winced, but Mac didn't give her a chance to respond. "Since I have Trish's permission to be here, I'll ask you again what you're doing in Harm's apartment."

"I came to pick up the few items I left."

"And you needed a bodyguard?" Mac doubted the man could scare away a fly, but she couldn't resist another dig at Renee.

"Where are my manners? Meet my fiancé, Cyrus Courtney."

It was Mac's turn to act surprised. "Fiancé? You certainly didn't waste any time finding another man."

"For your information, Cyrus and I go back a long way. We were high-school sweethearts and lost touch when he went to mortuary school. I went back home for the funeral of a family friend, and we reconnected. Just like we'd never been apart."

So, the man was a mortician. That explained why he acted like a milquetoast. "Then I guess congratulations are in order. How long will it take you to get your things and get out of here?"

"You have no right—"

"I could call Harm's mother."

"Oh, all right. The less I have to see of you, the better." Renee went to the bedroom, started yanking on drawers and opening closets. In a few minutes, she came back with a small travel bag. "Cyrus, be an angel and take these to the car. I need to check one more thing, and then I'll be down."

"Yes, Dear." He took the bag, then left.

Mac rolled her eyes. Spineless wimp was right.

Renee watched him leave, then turned to Mac. "Since I guess this is the last time we'll see one another, I wanted to wish you well on your upcoming marriage. Have you and Mic set another date?"

"Let's cut the pleasantries, Renee. You don't like me, and I don't like you. No need for any pretense. It's been a long three weeks. Let's leave it at that."

Renee opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. She nodded, then turned for the door.

"Oh, Renee?"

"Yes?"

"Leave the key. You won't need it anymore."

Her face grew red, but she removed the key from her purse, threw it on the table, then stormed out the door.

North of Union Station
1930 Local

After the encounter with Renee, Mac lost her appetite. Instead, she made a cup of tea, then dimmed the lights in the apartment, and went into the bedroom.

Finally, some alone time. Mac sat on the bed, then took a sip of tea. The night Chloe went missing, she'd been asleep when she saw the vision of her in the woods. But when she "found" Harm's life raft, she'd been fully awake.

With Chloe's help, she had been able to concentrate and focus totally on Harm. Could she do it now? She closed her eyes. In last night's dream, she saw him walking along a beach. Maybe if she called out to him.

"Harm? Where are you, flyboy? I know you're alive. Please come back to me."

Nothing. But Mac knew she needed to keep trying.

"I'm trying to reach you. Come home, Harm. I promise if you do, things will be different between us. I… I love you, Harm."

A beach. A rocky cove. An island in the Atlantic.

"Harm, are you there?"

Mac?

She opened her eyes and looked around. No one else was in the apartment, but she'd heard Harm's voice as plain as if he'd been in the room with her.

He is alive!