A/N: Just a short update. My muse has been most uncooperative lately, but I promise someone will soon rescue Harm.

Located

Remote Island, Atlantic Ocean
June 12, 2001
2000 Local

Harm, are you there?

"Mac!"

Memories flooded his mind like a tidal wave. Everything he had lost was now clear. His name. His rank. The year. His ramp strike. The fact that he was not only a Naval Aviator but also a JAG lawyer.

And Mac.

His partner. The marine officer who had stood by him through thick and thin and defended him in a murder trial.

His best friend. The one who accompanied him to Russia on an ill-fated mission to find his long-lost father.

His… The woman he loved.

"And this time, I'm going to tell you how I feel, Ninja Girl."

But Mac was engaged to marry someone else. His crash happened the night of her rehearsal dinner, with the ceremony scheduled for the next day. When he and Skates ejected over the Atlantic, he was on his way back for the wedding. Or rather, with the hopes of stopping the wedding.

Almost three weeks had passed since his crash. Mac would be married by now. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Maybe it would have been best if he hadn't remembered. Or even better if he had drowned in the ocean.

Now he would have to face life with knowing Mac was married to someone else. How was he supposed to work with her?

And how long do you think Bugme will allow her to work at JAG?

Brumby and Brumby. Mic told Bud it was because he did the work of two people. Like hell. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what he had in mind.

I want us to remain close.

You know, your husband might have something to say about that.

If Mic had his way, it would only be a matter of time before Mac left JAG and the Marine Corps.

I love you, Harm.

Mac's voice again. How could she say she loved him when she belonged to someone else? There could be only one explanation. The voice was a cruel figment of his imagination.

On the Road to Falls Church
2000 Local

Harm was alive. He was somewhere on an island in the Atlantic. Mac was sure of it. She hurriedly dressed in her uniform, then rushed to her car. Once she was on the road to Falls Church, she dialed the number for headquarters. Admiral Chegwidden often worked late. Maybe she could still catch him before he left. Tiner answered. "JAG Headquarters, Petty—"

"Tiner, this is Col Mackenzie. Is the admiral still in?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Put me through, please. It's urgent." She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel while waiting for the admiral to come on the line.

"What's going on, Colonel? Tiner said your call was urgent."

"Admiral, Sir, I have news about Harm."

There was a pause before Chegwidden spoke. His voice was low. "I'm sorry, Mac. Where did they locate his body?"

"Sir, Harm is alive. He's on a remote island in the Atlantic."

"An island? Which one? And how did you come by this information?"

"I saw him, Sir."

A J sighed. "Mac, please. I know you've had success with this before, but don't you think it's time to stop torturing yourself this way? We all cared for Harm, you probably more than anyone, but sooner or later, you've got to come to terms with the fact he's not coming back."

"Admiral, please. I'm not in denial. I know what I saw. I'm on my way into headquarters. Will you give me the benefit of the doubt once more? If I'm wrong, which I'm not, I'll never mention my 'gift' or curse or whatever you want to call it again."

"You're sure about this?"

"As sure as I was when I spotted his life raft."

"Okay, Colonel. I'll be waiting."

"Sir, is Bud still there?"

"I believe so, why?"

"Have him standing by and tell him to get the charts for the western Atlantic. I should be there in twenty minutes."