A/N: At long last, here's a chapter of something! I'll focus next on finishing An Unlikely Angel—I want it done by Christmas! And then back to this and Letters to Harm. Thanks for all the reviews and the kind inquiries into my well-being. Real life has been intruding!

Gone

Chapter 15: All Through the Night

October 2004

2227 Local

Mac's House

Whitefish, MT

Making love to Sarah MacKenzie was like coming home. Yes, that was a cliché, but as Harm moved within her, he knew it to be true.

She'd taken his hand and drawn it to the tie of her robe, and with trembling fingers he'd loosened the knot, letting it fall open to reveal red silk pajamas. He'd then slipped his hands underneath the top and moved them around to her back so he could pull her to him. "Sarah," he breathed before his lips met hers. Their kiss, soft at first, grew in intensity and passion while their hands journeyed over each other's bodies. Harm trailed kisses down her jaw, her throat, and when he reached the hollow where her pulse beat out a rapid cadence, his fingers moved to undo the buttons of her pajamas. Mac's nipples were already taut and erect and her gasp as he swirled his tongue around one of the turgid pebbles, sent a rush of blood to his groin. His manhood, already partially erect, grew to its full tumescence, and he couldn't help pressing into her so she could feel his hardness against her belly.

They gradually worked their way to the bed and soon she lay before him, her legs open to allow him to settle in between them. The heat of her, the scent of her surrounded him and for a long while he just explored her body with his mouth and hands. Fingers danced over smooth olive skin, and when they reached her core, he allowed them to dip into her slick, hot folds. He teased her for a moment, pressing a fingertip to her swollen clit before gently circling it. He grinned when she lurched and gasped, and he couldn't resist plunging a finger deep inside her. She was wet and wanton with her need as she writhed underneath him. Finally, they could wait no more, and as he lowered himself into her depths, he never took his eyes away from her. Once he was completely sheathed in her, he gave her the softest of kisses. "I love you, Sarah Jane MacKenzie," he said, and he began to move.

Now, in the darkness, his Sarah in his arms, he marveled at what he'd found. A friend. A lover. A soulmate. A home…

Harm couldn't resist gliding his hands over body, watching the goosebumps follow his path, and it wasn't long before her soft sighs of slumber turned into moans of arousal. She was now awake and ready for him again, and as he covered her body with his and pressed into her, he knew he'd never be able to be without her again. They made love slowly this time, and before the night was through, he would make love to her twice more.

It was heaven. It was home.

Two days later…

1644 Local

Central Avenue

Whitefish, MT

Harm and Mac wandered hand in hand down Central Avenue, and he was amazed at how many people stopped to say 'hi' to them. They all seemed to know Mac here, though of course they only knew her as Samantha O'Hara. Harm did his best to call her that when they were amongst people, not wanting to make things difficult for her here.

Harm had found Whitefish to be a delightful town, and he didn't think he'd ever seen a prettier Main Street. He knew he'd never seen anyone as beautiful as the woman who currently beside him.

"What?"

Mac's question made him realize he'd been just staring down at her, a stupid grin on his face. His grin widened and he shrugged. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about how beautiful you are."

Mac looked surprised at first, and then she blushed, ducking her head as she smiled. "Thank you," she said softly. Harm pulled his hand from hers and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He kissed the crown of her head and together they walked on.

The two had just stepped out of a specialty pet shop, Harm now armed with a few bribes for Nicodemus, when a male voice interrupted their light conversation.

"Sam!"

Harm immediately felt Mac stiffen as she halted in place. Harm turned his head toward the source of the voice and found himself sizing up a tallish dark-haired man. His pulse sped up. Somehow, he knew he was looking at more than a casual acquaintance of Mac's. Especially when he saw guilt flash in her eyes.

The ugly noose of jealousy settled around his heart.

"Ian. Hi," Mac said, furtively glancing at Harm to gauge his reaction. Harm's expression was carefully neutral, and likely no one but her would have noticed the subtle tightening around his eyes. Somehow, he must have sensed that Ethan was more than just a random customer of hers.

Mac looked back and forth between the two men, who seemed to be sizing each other up. Sighing inwardly, she turned toward Harm. "Harm, this is Ian Marshall, a friend of mine. Ian, this is H—"

"Harmon Rabb," Harm interrupted, stepping forward and holding out his hand. Ian took it, and Mac nearly cringed when she saw the force of Harm's grip.

"Nice to meet you," Ian answered politely.

"Likewise," Harm said, equally as polite. "So, how do you know Ma-uh, Sam?"

Mac didn't miss the amused glint in Ian's eyes. "We went out a few times last winter."

"I see," was Harm's bland response. The amusement in Ian's gaze intensified, turning almost devilish. Mac groaned inwardly as Ian turned to her.

"So, this is the one." Mac's eyes rose in question.

"The one?" She chuckled nervously.

"The reason you and I didn't work out." He said it lightly, no trace if resentment or regret. Mac knew on good authority that Ian had been happily dating a woman he'd met in Kalispell this past summer, and she started to relax.

That is, she started to relax until she saw Harm's expression. It was pinched, subtly angry, and Mac knew the peace of the day was over.

Dammit.

1710 Local

Mac's House

Whitefish, MT

"So, you used to go out with him?" Harm's question was spoken so calmly, so innocently, as they entered her house, but Mac heard the steel beneath the words. She sighed inwardly, not wanting to deal with a jealous Harm.

"Yes," she answered honestly, watching his eyes darken with more jealousy and maybe a little anger. At one time, she may have reveled in that jealousy, but she'd grown and hoped he had too. Another glance at his now shuttered countenance made her heart flutter with worry and she felt her own hackles rise in annoyance.

"How," he swallowed. "How long?" He'd slipped off his jacket, but he still had it clutched tightly in his hand.

"A couple of months. Harm—"

"Who broke it off?" He interrupted her.

Does it really matter? "I did."

Harm stared down at his jacket and several unreadable expressions flitted across his face. "Good," he replied tersely, then turned toward the kitchen.

Good? Mac thought about following him and asking him what that was supposed to mean, but then decided to let the matter drop. Maybe that was the end of it…

It wasn't the end of it. Throughout dinner, Harm barely spoke. His answers to her were short, one or two words, and by the time she got up to serve the mousse she'd prepared, Mac was fuming. What did it matter that she'd briefly dated during a time when she thought she'd never see him again?

Mac set the mousse down in front of Harm a bit harder than she'd intended. He looked up at her in surprise, but she didn't acknowledge it and returned to her seat, and the two ate their dessert in silence.

Periodically Mac could feel his eyes on her, but she studiously ignored him, and by the time their desserts were finished, the tension around them had grown thick and heavy. Nicodemus must have felt it; the cat had made himself scarce from the moment she and Harm had returned from town.

Just as Mac decided she couldn't take it anymore and opened her mouth to speak, Harm beat her to it.

"This was good." She looked up and eyed him warily, not expecting that to come out of his mouth.

"Thanks."

Harm's face took on an expression of careful nonchalance. Here it comes, she thought.

"So…when did you and Ethan—"

"Ian," Mac corrected. If this was going to get ugly, they may as well get the details right.

"Right…so when did you and Ian date?"

"After Christmas," was her short reply.

"Until…?"

Didn't we basically cover this? Mac's eyes went unwittingly to her scarred hand, remembering that night in March as she clenched her fist. "March."

Harm took a long pull from his glass of water while Mac tensely awaited his next question.

"What, uh…what made you, um, break it off?"

"Harm…"

"Turned out to be a jerk?" he continued questioning.

No, but you're being one.

Mac sighed heavily. "No, no he wasn't. He was…is…a very nice man." Mac knew Harm's visit had been going too well.

"Is? You still see him?"

"This town isn't that big, Harm, and he works for Mary's husband."

"So that's a yes?"

Mac stared hard at him. "What are you getting at, Harm?"

Harm didn't say anything; he just stared back her, waiting for an answer.

"Fine. Yes, Harm. From time to time I do run into him, but I'm not seeing him. I told you, I ended it in March."

"Why?"

Mac started to clear the dishes as she debated on answering him. Finally, she decided to pretend she hadn't heard him as she turned and walked the stack of plates in her hands to the kitchen. When she turned back around, Harm was right there, startling her.

"Jesus, Harm!" His hands reached out to steady her and she heard him mumble an apology. She tried to step around him, but his hands tightened almost imperceptibly on her arms.

"You didn't answer my question."

"What?"

Harm's face was stony. "Why did you break it off with Ian?"

Mac was angry. Correction: she was downright pissed. Harm's current attitude was ridiculous. It was out of line.

"What difference does it make, Harm?" she snapped, glaring up at him. He didn't flinch, but a pained look went through his eyes. "Well?!" Mac continued.

Harm swallowed a few times. "It-it doesn't, Mac. Just…I was just curious." He looked away for a moment, then reached down for her hand. "I'm sorry."

Mac watched as Harm's fingers twined with hers. "Okay, Harm. Let's just forget about it." She forced a smile and squeezed his hand. "Did you want to watch a movie or something?"

Squeezing her hand in return, Harm nodded. "Sure." They headed for the living room, the air still tense around them, both lost in their own thoughts.

1917 Local

Mac's House

Whitefish, MT

"What do you feel like watching?" Mac asked Harm as they sat down on her couch. Harm shrugged, and a quick glance at him showed her his mind was on something very different than movie selections. Mac blew out a breath of sad frustration.

"Why does it bother you so much, Harm?" she asked tiredly.

"What?" He sounded surprised, but he wasn't fooling Mac.

"Ian and me. Why does it bother you?" she repeated, noting the flash of anger in his blue-grey eyes.

"I…I…I don't know," he answered, sounding defeated.

"But it does."

"Yes."

She turned toward him on the couch. "It shouldn't. It's over. It's been over for months."

"I know, dammit!" Mac jumped at the rancor in his voice. "I know," he repeated, his voice now a harsh whisper.

"Then what—"

Harm pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mac…I just don't see why you had to…"

"Try to move on with my life? Try to be happy?"

"No, of course not, Mac." Harm shifted in his seat, looking decidedly uncomfortable with this turn of conversation.

"Then what, Harm?"

Harm sighed heavily. "Mac…can we just drop it?"

"Don't you mean 'table' it?" Mac's voice was low and cold, and Harm flinched.

"Maaac…"

"That's fine, Harm. Yeah, let's table it. In fact, let's just table the rest of the night!" Mac stood up from the couch and took a step toward the hall.

She heard Harm stand up behind her and hit what was likely his shin on the coffee table. There was a muffled curse and then he shouted after her.

"Dammit, Mac! Stop. Come back here so we can talk about this like adults!"

Mac whipped around. "I thought we were dropping it, Harm." She stalked back toward him, eyes blazing, the anger coming off of her in waves. "So, which is it?"

Harm closed his eyes for a moment. "We should talk."

"Fine," she answered, crossing her arms in front of her as she glared up at him.

"Mac, I—I'm sorry…about…" He shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

"What, Harm? It isn't much of an apology if you don't know what you're apologizing for."

The two of them stared each other down until Harm blinked and looked away.

Mac let out a frustrated huff of air and sat back down on the couch. After some hesitation, Harm joined her.

"I'm sorry I upset you, Mac," he said, reaching for her hand.

"Okay." She pulled her hand out of his path and watched his face tighten in irritation.

"Come on, Mac." Mac looked down at the hand he still held out to her, but rather then relent and take it in hers, she tightened her arms around herself instead.

"Maaac…"

"I don't get it, Harm," she said, tensing even more. "I don't get why you're so jealous over someone I dated months ago when you weren't even in my life." Mac hadn't meant to say it that way, given the reasons he wasn't in her life, but it was the truth.

"I'm not jealous." His tone said otherwise.

"You're not? Then why are you acting this way? You're acting more upset now than when I was with Mic and I almost married him." Harm flinched at her words.

"Maybe it's because I wasn't in your life this time."

"Harm, we talked about that. I'm sorry…but I did what I had to do to…to keep me from…ah, to keep my…soul intact. I was trying to move on."

Harm let out a bitter chuckle, the sharp bark of laughter startling her. "Yeah…you got to move on…"

"Harm?"

He turned his ever-changing eyes to her, and this time they were a dark, bitter grey. "You moved on…and I…so, while you were moving on, did you sleep with him?"

Mac was out of her seat on the couch like a shot. "That is none of your business!"

"Isn't it? Didn't we just—"

"I would never ask you something like that. Not about someone who was already out of your life!" Now it was Harm's turn to stand and he loomed over her.

"Like I was out of your life? Let me tell you, Mac. You were never out of my life. Even when I—I hated you, you were there."

"Right. So, you did hate me. You told me you never hated me. I guess I was right."

Harm's shoulders slumped. "That came out wrong."

Mac looked at him coldly. "No, I don't think it did."

She stepped away from him and started to walk down her hall. After a couple of steps, she turned her head to look back at him. "I just wanted to go on with my life, Harm. And for the record…no, I didn't sleep with him. I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"I think that's enough confession for one night. I'm going to bed…I think it would be best if you took the guest room tonight." She turned away again, desperately trying to hold it together.

"Fine, Mac," he called out to her. She paused a moment but then kept going. "Fine, Mac," he said again, this time a bit louder. "That's just great. You…you got to 'move on' with your life. How wonderful for you. Let me tell you, Mac, I couldn't do it. I spent most of the last year trying to find you…the whole office thinks I'm half-crazy. The admiral's ordered me to stop more than once. Bud and Sturgis…they've stopped asking me to do things…and Harriet—"

"Stop it."

"What?"

Mac clenched her shaking hands into fists as Harm advanced on her. "What?" he said again.

"Stop it. Stop talking about them."

"Why?" he asked, rather belligerently.

"I don't want to hear about them." There was a slight tremor in her voice.

Harm's mouth curled into a sneer. "Oh, you don't want to hear about them. Oh, yeah…I forgot. You've 'moved on.' Well, why should you get to move on when I can't? Answer me that!"

Blood roared in Mac's ears as the rage and hurt took over. She moved so she was toe to toe with Harm and glared up at him defiantly. "You really think I moved on? With Ian?" She held up her finger signaling him to wait, then whirled around and stomped to her bedroom. Her tears were falling now, and she angrily swiped at her cheeks. She heard Harm come in behind her as she yanked open her dresser drawer and rummaged around for her precious box. Once she found it, she slammed it on top of the dresser, adding another gouge in the wood next to the one she'd made that dark day in March. Mac pulled out Harm's picture, the singed edges a harsh reminder of her pain, and thrust it at Harm.

"Ian was a wonderful man, Harm," she said, her voice choking on her tears. "He was kind. He was fun. I liked him! So, what did I do? Each time we went out I'd come home and pull out that picture, wondering if that would be the time I realized I didn't love you anymore—that I could truly move on with Ian. You know what, Harm? It never happened! He'd kiss me and all I could think was he didn't taste like you. He'd hold me and I'd wish for your arms. I'd look into his eyes and be disappointed they weren't like yours!" Mac swiped again at her cheeks, but the tears kept flowing, and by now her shoulders were shaking and her chest was heaving. Harm stared at her, white-faced.

"Mac," he whispered as his hand reached out to brush her tears away, but she jerked hers head back.

"Don't," she growled, and his hand dropped uselessly to his side.

Taking a deep breath, Mac continued her tirade. "Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to tell him I wouldn't ever feel that way about him. I couldn't do to him what I did to Mic. He deserved better. He deserved someone who wouldn't spend their time with him wishing he was someone else." She advanced on Harm again.

"So don't. You. Tell me. I've. Moved on!" Mac punctuated her words with jabs of her finger into his chest. The last jab caused him to wince and stumble back a few paces. He still held the photo in his hand, and as Mac sat down on the edge of the bed, he brought it up closer to his face to study it.

Mac sat with her face buried in one hand while the other clutched at the bedspread beneath her. Her humiliation was complete, and her anger spent. Now all she felt was despair. A long minute passed while all she heard was the sound of her own shuddering breaths.

"Mac?" Harm's voice sounded far away. "Mac?" he said again, and she saw his feet take a step toward her.

"What?" she answered, her voice muffled by her hand.

"What happened to this picture?"

Mac shrugged. She didn't want to get into it now, but her left hand now gripped the bedspread furiously.

"Mac…please…what happened? It looks…burned." She looked up then, and after a few moments, she answered.

"It is."

"How?"

"Harm, don't…"

Harm knelt down in front of her. "Mac…how did it get burned?"

She met his eyes briefly, and they were an intense midnight blue. She had to look away.

"I—I threw it…I threw it into the fire."

"Why?" He spoke softly, gently.

"Because I—" She choked on a sob. "I was mad at you. I wanted to forget you."

"But it's still here."

"I know. I—I pulled it out before it could completely burn." Mac clutched her hands together in her lap, still avoiding Harm's gaze.

Harm leaned forward and rested his hands on either side of her legs. She tried to lean away from him and would have scooted up on the bed if his big hands hadn't covered hers and held on. His thumbs started to brush across her wrists while her heart thudded in her chest. "Why, Mac?"

"Harm, please…" Don't make me answer that.

"Why, Mac?"

Mac closed her eyes but that didn't stop the tide of her tears. Harm's fingers had started tracing circles on her arms, his touch chipping away at her resolve to remain silent.

"Maaac…"

"B-because…because it was all I had left of you. I couldn't lose that too…"

"Oh, Mac…" Harm continued the gentle stroking of her wrists while Mac watched, desperately trying to regain her composure.

Suddenly his fingers stopped their hypnotic ministrations and hovered over the scars of her hand. "Mac?" His voice was uncharacteristically hesitant, and her eyes widened as he traced the border of the largest burn with his fingertip. "How did this happen?"

Mac shrugged. She had no intention of telling him anything more about that night.

"Mac? Are these burns?" His thumb stroked across her hand, following the trail of scars. Gently, he turned her hand over and brushed across the scar on her palm. Mac turned her face away from him.

"Mac?" His tone was now imploring, and Mac found herself nodding slowly.

"How did you get them?" He now had both of his big hands around her much smaller, previously injured one.

"Harm, don't…"

"Did you burn your hand saving that picture?"

"Haarm…" This was humiliating and it was made more so by the tears that started to fall down her cheeks.

"Tell me, Mac…is that what happened? Mac?" Harm's hand came up to cup her cheek and brush the tears aside. He ducked his head to look into her eyes, lifting her chin when she tried to look away. For several heartbeats, chocolate-amber eyes stared into shining green ones until, finally, Mac nodded.

"Mac…why?" he asked in a near whisper as he moved his hand to trace a line from largest scar to the next. His eyes looked suspiciously wet.

"I told you…it was all I had left. I couldn't let it go." Once again Mac turned her face away from Harm, embarrassed at baring her heart like this. A heavy silence settled about them, with Mac trying to stop her tears while Harm gripped her hand more tightly in his.

When the only sound in the room was an occasional sniffle from Mac, Harm raised her hand to his lips and brushed them over the largest scar. "I'm sorry, Sarah," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He punctuated each apology with a kiss along the old wounds, then turned her hand in his and held it to his cheek. "Sarah, honey, I—

"I couldn't move on, Harm. I t-tried. I did. But I missed you s-so much. Even knowing you hated me…I couldn't let you go."

Harm leaned up and kissed her brow before he rested his forehead against hers. "Mac, sweetheart, I never hated you. Honestly. I was angry, hurt…but mostly, I hated myself." He nuzzled her with his nose and then pressed another kiss to brow. "I'm sorry, Mac. I'm sorry I've been such an ass about this. You had every right to—to go and be happy. I know I have no reason to be jealous…it's just…I came so close to losing you…and I can't lose you. I love you." He lifted her hand back up to his lips and brushed another kiss over the burns. "I love you, Sarah."

Mac gazed hard into his eyes. Her already shaky ability to trust anyone had been grievously injured in the last couple of years, but in Harm's storm-tossed eyes, she saw the sincerity there. The regret. The love. She pulled her hand from his grasp and lifted the other so she could hold his face in between them. She leaned in so her lips were hovering over his. "I love you too, Harm," she whispered, softly, fiercely. "I love you too."

Their kiss was deep, loving, and, though the darkness had already settled around them for the night, the world was bright again.

0222 Local

Mac's House

Whitefish, MT

She was restless again.

Harm, before he was even entirely awake, pulled Mac closer to him, throwing his leg over her hip to completely envelope her with his warm body. She whimpered a few more times, her body taut even in sleep, but then she sighed and relaxed against him.

For long moments he simply watched her, taking in the sight of her nude body as she lay spooned against him. He breathed in her unique scent, the scent he'd longed for for nearly two years, and pressed a kiss to her hair. The curtains covering her window were slightly open, letting in the moonlight that danced across her skin.

God, how he loved her.

After their talk last night, they'd crawled under the covers and simply held each other. He'd marveled again at how well they fit together, and it wasn't long before their cuddling turned into something more heated. They'd made love until the moon rose, and he'd fallen asleep still inside her. Sometime during the night they'd shifted positions, and they'd slept peacefully until the sound of Mac's whimpering roused him.

Harm let his hand drift down to cover Mac's scarred hand and brushed his thumb across one of the scars, feeling the barest hint of roughened skin. It was subtle; overall the scars were mostly a visual reminder of her pain, but there were a couple of areas that he now knew intimately, and it pained him. She bore these scars because of him, because of the pain he'd inflicted on her, and he found himself blinking back tears. They'd both been hurt, but he couldn't help but think she'd been hurt most of all. Yes, she'd run before, but had always come back. This time, she'd become a whole different person and if he hadn't found her, she would have been lost to them forever. He knew deep down she'd never return to the place that held so many devastating memories if left to her own devices. He wondered if he'd ever be able to convince her that she was still loved by many, still missed, still grieved…that everyone in the office despaired over their treatment of her. He wondered if she'd ever forgive them.

She forgave you, and you didn't deserve it. The thought rose up unbidden, and he felt a wash of guilt. Guilt was something he'd grown familiar with. Guilt over his own treatment of her, guilt over lying to everyone back home at JAG about finding her, guilt over not even telling his parents he'd found her. For now, though, he didn't have a choice; he'd never betray her confidence, even if it meant shutting his friends out from most of his life.

As they'd made love, he'd brushed his lips over her hand, unable to stop a tear from forming. Mac had taking his face in his hands, looked deeply into his eyes with tears in her own. "It's okay, Harm. It's okay," she'd whispered and he'd nodded, but the guilt still sliced through him.

"No, Mac…it's not okay," he spoke into the night. He pressed a kiss to her hair and pulled her close again.

"But it will be."

End Chapter 15