Beyond the Rivers of Jordan
Book 1: River Crossings
Chapter 6
JAG Internal Network
Log entry no: 20017412
"Every time I think I've put the pieces of my life back together, somebody comes along and jumbles them back up."
User ID: -unsigned-
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, VA
2004 ZULU
The elevators doors opened and she tumbled down the corridor. Her steps were so shaky Harriet worried that she would fall over.
Don't be sorry, be honest. Why are you marrying me, Sarah?
Then why, in crisis, am I always the last one you look to?
She could feel her vision clouding, but she kept going, even if it was limply, Harriet calling after her.
You're running, Mac, what's going on?
Let me in, tell me how you're feeling!
She could hear the words, that 'the lines were down' and 'the Admiral can't get Norfolk', but she didn't know what they meant, she just kept running.
Mac, the Admiral called, Harm and Commander Turner…
…they had an accident.
She ran past the desks, past Bud who came out of his office to see what the commotion was about, past the rest of the deserted office. She didn't see any of it.
Don't make a promise you can't keep
I haven't yet.
She couldn't breathe properly, but she kept going, guilt driving her feet forward. All the while her own voice, crying out inside her head, the word 'no' over and over again.
We're getting to good at saying goodbye
Why goodbye and not good luck.
AJ was sitting in his room trying to finish his work, but got distracted by the noise from outside. He looked up at the clock on the wall. Eleven thirty. He muttered crossly, "Who the hell is around…" tossing his glasses onto the table and heading towards the door. He yanked the door open and was about to shout; but he was too stunned at having Mac lunge straight at him.
"Admiral…where is he…you have to tell me where he is…" she rambled deliriously.
Harriet ran over and caught hold of Mac and apologized, "I'm sorry Admiral, I told her the lines were down but she insisted on coming over…"
AJ grabbed Mac and shook her trying to knock some sense into her system, but she would stop. She just kept regurgitating her words that didn't make two cents worth of logic.
"Mac…what the…you're soaked!" he exclaimed as his bare hands came into contact with her dripping sweats.
"She ran out in the rain, sir, I caught up to her in the car…" Harriet caught up to them and tried to explain.
AJ's mouth hung open in astonishment, but did his best to calm the near delirious Mac down, "Sarah…I'm sure Harm is fine…Norfolk will call as soon as they have word."
"You don't understand, sir…I don't know…where is…"
She stepped back half a step, glazed, and then tried to continue, "I need to know…"
Then another time, pushing away from AJ slightly, "…where he…is…"
The energy then drained from her eyes. AJ swept her up and carried her into his office, setting her down on the sofa, "Harriet, go get a towel and some dry clothes…Lt. Roberts could you please put a call through to Dr. Walden…tell her its an emergency…"
"Yes, sir!"
AJ at the sneakers and socks with some difficulty before he finally got them off, and then ambled briskly over to the wooden cabinet nearby to pulled out a thick blanket and pillow, leaving them on the coffee table. Then he got started on the wet sweats, gently pulling each arm out, skillfully extricating the unconscious girl, pushing the hair carefully out of her face. He felt her hands; they were cold and clammy, as were her arms. But despite the cold dampness of the rain on her skin, he could feel the fever burning under her forehead. AJ shook his head and threw the blanket open, pulling it over her, and rubbing the arms underneath trying to warm them.
"Oh Sarah…" He lamented as he got up to pull off his slightly damp blazer. AJ left it on the rack as Harriet came in and breezed past. He loosened his tie and began rolling up the white sleeves. Harriet pulled away the blanket to reveal Mac clad only in a white tank top and panties. AJ swallowed and tried to explain, "She was wet, so I er…"
"Its okay, Admiral," Harriet simply replied and started using the towel to dry Mac off.
"I'll go outside while you finish up here," he told her.
AJ walked towards the mess to get some coffee. Bud caught up with him on the way.
"Dr. Walden is on her way, sir,"
"Thank you, Lt...there's no one else around…?"
"No, sir, just the four of us…"
"That's good…" AJ attempted to loosen his neck stiff neck, "Bud, we'd want to keep this to ourselves…"
"Of course, sir," Bud replied and then went on his way.
AJ sighed. He wasn't sure what to do just yet.
***********
Underground Detention Facility
Unknown Location. Washington, DC
Furginnson lumbered over to where Clay stood and handed him the computer print out, "Tox report."
He glanced through it briefly, swearing, "Inconceivable…'We're impenetrable', ...those damn fools!"
"For once I actually agree with you."
Clay studied the other briefly before watching the forensics team work the scene, "How long more is she going to be in the O.R.?"
"They're not sure; we only got to her just in time…chances are slim. What about here?"
"Forget it…this guy wouldn't have left shit for us to work with, this is just pointless procedure that needs to be done."
Their ear pieces buzzed a bit, "Mr. Webb…"
"Yeah!" Clayton answered irritably into his wrist mike while Furginnson listened in.
"…he rerouted the circuit board, the video feed wasn't on loop, it was being run at a slower shutter speed. The difference is so miniscule that unless we were sharp enough, it's unlikely anyone would have picked it up."
"Damn it!" Furginnson swore.
Clay glanced at the man then continued, "Why is that, Mr. Higgins?"
"Because sir, the system was on a timer…the moment it ran out the feed would have snapped back to normal and realigned itself with bios time."
"Hmm…how long did this go on for?"
"Hold on, sir…seven minutes forty five, sir."
"Hmm," Clay considered, and then continued, "Alright, get the system hooked back up…"
"Sir, he screwed it up good, surveillance won't up at a maximum for another five hours or so."
"Damn it…" Clay seethed, "How badly will we be compromised?"
"I think we'll cope, sir."
Clay gave Furginnson a look and the other nodded, "I'll get on it…" and started back down the hall.
"Furginnson!" Clay shouted after him, "Put the facility up at NS-CO 3!"
The other turned to him looking astounded, "NS-CO 3?"
Clayton closed the gap between them, and discreetly flashed the plastic card under his blazer, pretending to take out his cell phone and talking in it audibly for everyone else to hear, "Yes, sir, Mr. Secretary, I understand." Clay kept his sights straight at the man in front of him and clipped the phone close, making sure everyone in the hallway could here, "By order of the Undersecretary of State, Mr. Furginnson, bring us up to NS-CO 3."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Webb," the other beleaguered and continued on his path.
"Higgins…" Clayton spoke back into his wrist mike.
"Yes, sir?"
"Make it two hours…"
"Sir…?"
"Two, Mr. Higgins. You will have personnel to assist you. Just get the job done."
"Yes, sir."
Clayton pulled out his cell phone once more; this time pressing the speed-dial button, making sure no one was too nearby. The other end picked up. Clay kept his eyes out around him and spoke quietly into the receiver,
"It's me…We may have a possible 3-01 …yes, three, I didn't want to cause too much alarm, I may be wrong…uh-huh, uh-huh…what the hell are you doing there? … … …what?! This complicates things… alright. I call you again when I know more."
The other side put down and Clay pressed another button, "…Hey, …yeah, that's right. Get me a crew within the half hour…yes, systems analysts. And run the check for precautions' sake. …James Maurice Furginnson…no need, just call when you're through."
Clay took a deep breath then went down the corridor toward the cafeteria.
He began pacing around near the food counter, talking to himself…something along the lines of, "Yada yada blah blah blah…jerk." Bobbi wondered if he knew he was making a complete fool of himself, oblivious to the other agents going about their investigations. He shushed her when she asked what he was doing, much to her annoyance, and after a few more seconds of incoherent babbling, he walked over to the table he had sat with her earlier, suddenly slowing his pace midway before he got there.
"Webb…" she demanded impatiently.
"SHH! In a minute!" he stopped her, intently watching his watch.
She let out a cry of frustration and moved away to let him finish whatever nonsense he was up to.
Clayton stayed there just over a minute, then began running through moving back to the counter and subsequently running down the hallway. She took her time to follow him, watching him go back into the cell. He re-immerged just as she reached it.
"Seven minutes-forty five!" he exclaimed triumphantly.
"Mind telling me what that was about? Or at least what the hell is going on?" Bobbi asked point blank.
Clayton felt almost sympathetic towards her, and he showed it a little.
"Don't feel sorry for me," Bobbi muttered grudgingly, "I'm a big girl."
"In a bigger world," he replied, "You need to talk to someone…"
"I need to talk to you," she returned more demandingly, "So you going to fill me in?"
Clayton sighed, and decided to let her save a little of her pride, for now. He took her gently by the elbow and pulled her back along the hallway towards the cafeteria, "Let's take a walk."
"So who's the bigger fish this time round?"
Clay chuckled a little at her deduction, and replied, "What makes you think its bigger fish?"
"Clayton, I am familiar with what NS-CO is…"
"Oh you are, are you?" Clayton pretended to scoff.
"National Security-Compromise Override," she answered, "So what are you not telling me?"
Clayton led her past the staff, behind the food counter and into the kitchen, and then down some steps into a basement where the food stores were kept. He opened the deep freezer and pointed inside, "This is where the body of the other cook on duty was found," he closed the door once more and continued walking down the corridor, explaining, "Now you know there's only one main entrance to this facility, and to get to that you have to go through the CIA headquarters…where you're screened for weapons and what not a second time even after the first…the other exit is the one that leads to the courthouse….
"I know, Webb," she interrupted.
He eyed her with distinct annoyance and continued, "What you don't know is that there are two other ways out from this facility that are not shown on any blueprint or map…except those exclusively available to certain high level individuals. Now I'm not telling you where the other one is, but our Don Juan couldn't have come in through that one because….because he couldn't. The only other way he could have come in undetected, was through here. They came to the end of the hallway to a dead end.
"What are you talking about, it's a…"
Clay ignored her and pulled out the plastic card he had flashed Furginnson earlier, simply moving it across the surveillance camera on top, making sure a pale violet beam from the base of the camera fell directly onto its surface. There was a short pause, and then the wall slid away to reveal a lighted passageway.
"Thank you, gentlemen," Clay directed at the camera before stepping in, "…you coming?" he turned to the other.
Bobbi shook her head and followed, muttering, "Who pulled you out of a James Bond…"
**********
AJ's Office
JAG Headquarters
AJ leaned on his desk watching Sydney go about her business; he couldn't deny the keen sense of melancholy washing over him as he sipped his coffee.
"I appreciate you coming down here, Sydney."
The other pulled the stetascope from her ears glancing at him briefly before returning her equipment to its case, "Don't mention it."
He pushed off from the table and strode over. Sydney watched him bend over, and tenderly place his hand over Mac's forehead.
"Has she been under a lot of stress lately?" she queried.
AJ simply smiled half-heartedly and asked, "Is she going to be alright?"
Sydney continued packing and replied, "Well, nothing a little rest and medicine won't cure. I had to give her a jab to help with the fever…I'm shocked she hasn't been to a doctor. It's the common flu…but some people do get a little delirious and start rambling when they have fevers, so that's nothing to worry about. The thing you should worry about…is the stress."
She clipped the bulky leather bag closed and then asked, "Did Annie give her any pills since she got back?"
"From Indonesia? Yeah." AJ nodded and tried to remember the report, "…can't remember what in particular."
"Has she been taking them?"
AJ shrugged in reply.
"Hmm…" Sydney expected her guess was probably the same as his, and she shook her head, "Sarah…" then turned to AJ, "someone needs to talk to this marine of yours, AJ, she's not indestructible."
"I will," AJ assured her.
"No news on Harm yet?" Sydney said walking towards the door.
"Lines are down, don't expect we'll hear anything for a while."
"I'll go down to the infirmary, get whatever she needs…and drop of the blood sample I took, just in case."
"Shall I walk you?" AJ attempted. But Sydney shifted uneasily, so he corrected, "Or I could send Bud…"
"No," she answered, "Its fine, I can handle a few pills."
AJ closed the door after her and sighed glumly. He strolled over to where Mac was and sat on the coffee table beside her, pulling the blanket over the pale and lithe figure. She murmured incoherently a couple of times, and shifted fitfully in her sleep, almost as though her dreams were tortured and tormented. AJ put down his coffee and placed one hand on her forehead, the other on the blanket, over the spot where her hands were. She gradually settled down. There was a knock at the door and AJ tilted his head up to see who it was, he motioned for Harriet to come in.
"How's she doing, sir?"
"She'll be fine Lt…"
"Sir…Ms Peterson...Renee is here."
AJ looked up at her more intently and then asked, "Did Bud explain everything?"
Harriet nodded, "Everything, sir…she's going to wait here for him."
"How is she doing, Lt.?"
"I was going to ask you, Admiral…" Harriet stared quizzically.
"Renee, Lt."
"Oh! …As well as can be expected, sir."
"Hmm…" he grunted pensively, "Harriet, does she know that Mac…"
"Oh no, sir! I er…told her that er Bud was working late….and the Col. Is staying with me…so I came down to see Bud…and she tagged along…and er…er….she doesn't know, sir," she assured him.
"Alright then," AJ felt a little relief, and then remembered, "And Mic?"
Harriet's eyes went wide as she replied, "I completely forgot, Admiral…he supposed to call the house…right about now, sir! Should I call him, Admiral? I mean…should I…"
"Calm down, Lt…" AJ considered carefully for a few moments and then answered, "Let's keep this from Brumby, …for now..." he sighed, "for her sake."
**********
Passage way 150m below sea level
1250m from the Detention Facility
2134 ZULU
"So you think this was an attempt to cover up the fact that the government has been involved in espionage against other nations?" Bobbi said, impatiently following after him.
Clayton kept going and answered, "There will always be a thousand Kathryn Reeses, Bobbi. No matter how hard we try to cover up, there will always be people out there who will find proof that the government has been involved in undercover intelligence operations, espionage against other nations…" he kept a steady pace and continued, "but it will never change the fact that we will continue doing so no matter how many operations are eventually uncovered. People don't have to like it, but its necessity to survive. It's this country's insurance that we will wake up to another morning as a superpower of the world."
Bobbi tugged at her heels uncomfortably, so he stopped for a moment to give her time to adjust her footwear. When he was sure she was done, he strided forward once more, "Anyway, an occasional a bump in road is a good thing. Human beings are built such that they will never be satisfied living in perfection, in Utopia. They need something to believe in, they need to believe that 'the truth is out there'. We keep on our toes and we give the people a couple of interesting stories to keep them occupied."
"So what makes Kathryn Reese such a threat to your people?" she asked, listening to the steady beat her heels created along the steel tunnel.
Clayton scoffed at the question and replied, "What makes you think she's a threat to my people?
"If she's not a threat to you then who?" Bobbi said, nearly tripping over a kink in the floor. She grumbled, "Is this thing ever going to end?"
He ignored the later comment and carried on, "Think about it Congresswoman, what would it mean if Kathryn Reese was acquitted of espionage against the United States of America? Someone was obviously spying on someone else…the world needs someone to blame…"
"The US would be the guilty…but I thought you said you didn't really care…"
"We don't…" Clay emphasized, "but why do you think General Pietnam is so keen to vouch for Reese? What would happen if the United States was guilty of espionage against the Burmese?"
"US Millitary presence in Myanmar would probably be suspended…Pietnam would become the major military power in the country…" Bobbi began aligning herself with Clayton's frequency.
"Correct." Clay told her.
"And Pietnam is rumored to be no better than the Burmese Communist Militia that we drove out…is that true?"
"He is a brutal militant, yes, but he supports literacy amongst the people, and frankly that's of far greater concern to US interests. We wouldn't want them digressing back to…you should know, you've been pushing for education across this country."
"Mmm…if the people had gone on like that for another decade or so, they could have ended up with total illiteracy…alienation from the rest of civilization. But which brings me back to the question? Why Kathryn Reese?"
"Not Kathryn Reese, Congresswoman…the consequences of this trial. Think smaller."
Bobbi frowned, "Explain."
"General Pietnam is also rumored…note that I say rumored…to be one of the major contenders in the growing drug trade in Myanmar…"
"So is Nyumgong…but he's backed by Washington…" Bobbi thought hard and then stopped short in realization, "He's trafficking…"
"I said 'rumored'!" he warned her.
"And your people…"
"My people said nothing of the sort…"
"If the UN pursues her allegations…Nyumgong will easily be removed and Pietnam would take over as the dominant power in the drug market!" Bobbi exclaimed as she and Webb got into an elevator. She was relieved that the long walk was finally coming to an end, but was more interested in the new findings, "Do you realize what this means?"
"My people remind the congresswoman that we said 'rumored'" Clayton answered as the door closed shut. The could feel the bit of pressure in their ears as the elevator made a swift climb.
"Oh come on Webb, in Washington, rumors are as good as the real deal…" she stated plainly, "my team has been pushing a review of the 'war-on-drugs' policy, do you realize what this could mean for my campaign?"
"Is that all you really care about, Latham?"
"Of course not!" Bobbi defended.
Clayton half regretted giving her the info. He had given it to her as an added bonus, but now he wasn't so sure that he could trust her with it.
"Bobbi," he reminded her, "you didn't hear this from me…in fact, you didn't hear it at all, are we understanding each other?"
"Don't worry…" Bobbi was a little offended, "I know how to handle myself."
He studied her intently and then replied, "I'm trying my best to trust you here…"
Bobbi was almost flattered by his last statement, but before she could reply, he said, "Now listen, when we step out this door, don't look surprised, don't look shocked…look like you know what's going on…"
"But I don't -.." she argued.
"Are we clear?" he persisted.
"But I have no idea…"
"ARE we clear??" he raised his voice.
"Like the palm of my hand and the back of your ass," she answered evenly, trying to hide her anger.
He frowned sternly at her as the elevator came to a stop and the doors began to open. Clay saw the glint in her eyes begin to change, but he caught her by the arm and pulled her out, reminding her just under his breath, "Remember…like the back of my ass, Congresswoman."
They continued walking. Clay shook his head in annoyance, leering, "…the back of my ass. Ha."
*********
AJ's Office
JAG Headquarters
She could still feel him standing there. Her gaze was low so she could only make out a faint reflection of uniform on the cold glass, her eyes catching the glimpse of khaki behind her. He stood a considerable distance…at the door. He didn't dare come closer. She wouldn't look back at him, but instead had held fast to the cold medallions in her fist, crushing it into her skin; that way they could pretend he wasn't there, and convince herself that she hadn't let him in, that she wasn't guilty.
He's my best friend, she defended.
She tried to reconstruct this memory, imagining that her present will was an invisible force with hands that could hold him back, push him back, deep into the recesses of non-existence. But her desperate struggles were useless in trying to prevent what was past. He continued drawing closer, slowly, closer, slowly, closer, untouched by the invisible, his mere reflection expanding till she could see nothing, only feel him inches away, burning his presence into her soul. She had shut her eyes, half hoping that maybe he would disappear, or that she'd wake up to find it never happened.
We never started…we never happened.
With every passing moment she felt more and more helpless, overpowered the re-enactment that was unfolding in her mind. She felt that same weakening fear – the anticipation of his touch. Why she feared it she didn't know, he had only come to lend her the support she so needed. Yet when his finger tips just barely grazed her waist, even through the cloth of her blouse her heart had jumped so hard she thought she could have died as the trembling overtook her. His hand inched ever so gently, carefully, but only prolonged the pain as his fingers splayed themselves over her stomach until the tip of his thumb rested right at the crevice of her rib cage. His hand was unmoving, like it was meant to be there always, holding her. Her hands were shaking as they tried to find rest their rest on him. Slowly. Slowly. Then they touched, and then release.
We did nothing wrong, she defended.
That night, in that instant, her entire being had fallen into him.
He's my friend, Mac covered her face with her hands.
He had wrapped himself around her, his hand firm and unmoving from where it had been. She could still remember how hot her tears felt on her cheeks and his arms, running along its sinews, the cloth of their uniforms folding and twisting as she struggled, her blouse half untucking itself from the waist band of her skirt, her body wrecking itself in anguish. All the while he held on to her, pulling her towards him with all he had. Her sobs had been silent, deep and painful gasps that felt as though grief itself was ripping her apart each time she exhaled. And he partook in her cup, his breaths becoming in tandem with hers. As though he shared the pain, as though he knew the pain. He had been terrified inside, that if he let go for just a second he would lose her forever. She would have crumpled to the floor if it wasn't for him holding her up inside his arms, his strength completely supporting her devastation.
She did become exhausted, limp as he lowered them to the ground. That was when they both heard her quiet crying for the first time in that eternal moment. A melody that would come and go in varying shades throughout the night. Anguished sobs. Muted cries. Silent tears. He treasured it dearly she knew. He had refused to let go, even though the muscles in his arms and back were excruciatingly taut, painful from long ordeal, unrelentingly holding on to her, desperately crushing her to himself. As his face had lay buried in her hair, with every breath he took it was as though he was taking whatever he could and making it apart of him. And she became suddenly unsure as to why she was crying, whether it was for Lylyana, or it was for the loss she felt being in his arms, that once they walked away it would just have been another day when nothing happened.
Oh God…
It was like he was apart of her, and she apart of him; every breath, pain and emotion locked inside of one another as a single entity. Flesh to flesh, bones to bones. His rhythm her own, his sinews her strength. The blood flowing in her veins, his. He was so scared he was hurting her, but she only wanted him to hold on tighter so they'd be forever knitted together. Mac couldn't remember when she fell asleep still entwined in his arms, she just remembered telling herself over and over that it never happened, their body and soul both weeping as though they had lost all will to exist beyond that moment.
A part of her died that night, and became one with him in every way.
I overstepped the boundaries of a well-wisher.
I overstepped the boundaries of a bride.
Mac lay curled up on the sofa, letting tears cascade down sunken cheeks, wetting the pillow. She let question after question and argument after argument and denial after denial plaque the desert of her weary heart, and had neither the strength nor will to take control. She simply let fatigue lead her to that place of subconscious…
How could something so chaste, feel so wrong?
AJ held on to her firmly, at first to stop her from struggling underneath the blanket; he had been trashing about, sobbing. She had calmed down suddenly, but to a strange level of sleep, like she had drifted into hopelessness or somewhere near its rim. AJ silently whispered a prayer in his heart. It started off with "Dear LORD" and ended with "please". He didn't know what to pray for. He gently lifted the tears off the side of her face; they were each taking orderly turn, meandering their way down her cheeks in a slow and almost deliberate fashion. He felt a dull pain inside for her. He wasn't sure why. Harriet then came in, carefully making her way over to him, and he shifted to his right to give her space to sit on the coffee table.
"Here, let me," he offered, taking the small metal basin from her.
Harriet rewet the hand towel and finished with a wring. She then neatly folded it a couple of time before placing it on Mac's forehead. The latter shifted in distress, groaning as the cold towel touched her forehead.
"Sir…I worry…" Harriet finally said.
"I know, Harriet," he assured her.
"I've never really seen her as upset, not even when Harm crashed out at sea."
Mac began to mumble agitatedly, as though she was reacting to their conversation. AJ moved from the coffee table to the edge of the sofa trying to soothe her once again. She quickly relaxed again.
"Is Ms Peterson still…?"
"She's waiting in Commander Rabb's office, sir."
"I oughta ban Rabb from driving moving vehicles of any kind…"
Harriet giggled a little at his resolution, and then concluded, "You really do care about her, don't you, Admiral?"
AJ looked at her and smiled. He didn't reply. Then Mac began shifting once again, more agitated than before, "I didn't…we never…Mic, stop it! Stop it!"
She tossed around a fair bit as Harriet and AJ tried to quieten her down, flipping the blanket off her upper torso, continuing her struggle, "Damn you! …damn you! We didn't do anything wrong!"
"Mac…Mac!" AJ raised his voice a little, which roused her. Her eyes opened, looking around at her surroundings in disorientation. Her breaths were worryingly shallow, and she kept repeating under her breath, "We never, we never…" They allowed her some time to get her bearings, and at some point she realized where she was and remembered what had transpired over an hour or so before. Mac sat up slowly, and they both helped her as she pulled up her knees, the blanket along with them. AJ slowly let go off her hands and placed his behind on the sofa to support himself.
"Sarah," he began, half wondering if she was listening. She made eye contact, she was. So he continued, "Admiral Jacobs did not mention that Harm was in any serious condition, just that the car had skidded off the road…we won't know anything for sure until the lines come up…"
"But I saw, Admiral…" she appealed to him and to Harriet.
"Mac, honey…that was a dream, nothing more…" Harriet replied.
"But what if it wasn't?" Mac said slightly frantic.
The other two were speechless, not knowing what to say in return.
"Oh God…what am I going to do? He's…he's my frie--, he's…what am I going to do?"
"Sarah…Sarah, stop…slow down…it will be okay…" AJ took hold of her shoulder, but was a little taken aback as a sobbing Mac fell forward into his arms. He tightened his grip around her, one hand on her head, "everything will be okay, …Harm will be okay."
"I can't lose him all over again…I can't…" she could barely get the words out in between the tears.
Harriet could feel the anguish in her cries, and she gingerly placed a hand on Mac's back, lending whatever support she could in the absence of words.
************
Outside The Pentagon
Washington, DC
2254 ZULU
"You could have warned me…" Bobbi blamed him.
"You were too busy getting off 'rumors' …oh and the crack about the back of my ass…that was a beauty," Clayton defended himself, "besides, the look on you face was classic, I'm just hoping you didn't blow our cover."
She frowned, not in the least appreciative of his ridicule, "I would have been better if I had known!"
Clayton grinned secretly, and then offered, "Alright, can we get some dinner now? That shit we had at the facility is burning a hole in my stomach lining."
"Gee…I hope it burns right through…" she said resentfully.
"Look, Latham, this is going to be a long haul, and I mean long," he told her as they walked down the pathway, "If you're not going to be able to deal, then maybe you should walk away while you still can."
"I can deal Webb! I can deal!" she assured him, jabbing a finger into his chest, "my question is: are you going to deal?" Bobbi paused and continued down the pathway, muttering, "the whole thing just keeps getting better and better."
"Hey!" he heard it loud and clear and quickly caught up with her, "My game my rules! You take what I give you when I give you! You think this is some vending machine you can just stick a coin in and out pops classified shit?" he eyed her furiously, and then reminded her, "I'm already dishing more than I should!"
"Hey yourself!" She shouted back, "You asked me to step up to the plate! And I did!" Bobbi kept a strong gaze on him and then continued,"Now you pitch me the classified shit right, Webb! Or you're gonna find yourself short of a batter."
"So! What!" he demanded, "Three strikes and you're out?? Is that it?"
"Wrong, short stoup…" she pointed back, "'One', was for that back there. 'Two' is for pissing me off! As of now you've got one strike left to an 'out'."
"Damn it…Bobbi…" Clay put his hands on his waist in frustration, and then waved the file in his hand about trying to come up with the words, "What are you so angry about? So I didn't give it to you straight away! You figured it out anyway and its not even half as important as the rest of the cake! I've been letting you have your way the whole time! What the hell is wrong with you!"
Bobbi stopped in her tracks and crossed her arms. She wasn't so sure what was eating at her either, "Clay!" she turned around and hesitated, then tried to answer evenly, "I have a lot on the line here...my whole career could go down the drain if this messes up! For me to make sure that doesn't happen, I need to know the moment there is to know, that way I'm one step ahead of the game."
Bobbi finished, and when he didn't reply, she offered,"Okay, maybe I over-reacted…"
"Maybe!" Clay began.
"Okay! I did over react! You satisfied?" she snapped, "I don't like people dangling me on a string, I'm a Congresswoman, 'Hardass Latham', always prepared, always on time, never off-guard! That's the way I play! I felt stupid in there!"
"Nobody knew you didn't know…" Clayton reasoned.
"I did!" she interrupted him, "And so did you!"
Both went quiet as security went past on the opposite side of the fence. One of the guards came over with a dog to see what the two were doing loitering around the Pentagon, but before he had gotten half a sentence out Clay flashed his clearance card and put an end to the other's inquiry. They were silent for some more as the patrol moved on, trying to calm themselves to have a more adult like conversation. The sidewalk was pretty deserted at this time and Bobbi took her time before eventually picking up where she let off, this time with more composure.
"Look…forget it, I'm just tired. Today was just too much."
Clay took a short breather and decided to be magnanimous and let it go, "I did not intend to jerk your chain, I wasn't thinking…" He was a tough nut, not inhuman.
"You didn't do anything…" Bobbi answered, "…let's just leave it at that," a little uncomfortable at the mutual respect going on.
"Truce?"
"Oh yeah," she replied.
"Look, we'll get dinner and eat it in your office, okay?" he offered, "we'll talk shop on your turf…I've already gotten someone to send your car back to your office..."
"I don't even want to ask how he's going to do that when I have my keys with me…" Bobbi muttered, "And how are we getting to my office by the way? And don't tell me we're walking!" she warned.
"Of course not," Clayton replied, walking ahead and reaching into his pocket for a set of car keys. He pressed the unlock button and a car nearby bleeped, the headlights coming on. Bobbi shook her head unbelieving, but followed him to the dark blue Mercedes. He obligated himself to open the door for her, if anything just to save himself the extra snide remark. Bobbi on the other hand almost gagged at his attempt, but tried to keep the truce as well. If she was going to work with him for some time, they'd best start learning to live with one another.
"So what's for dinner?" he asked, starting the car.
"As long as it ain't one of those drive thru's that serve up classified shit," she replied.
His lips curved at her words. She had no idea, he thought to himself.
**********
AJ's Office
JAG Headquarters
With the blanket now wrapped around her, Mac had propped her sock clad feet up on the sofa, and was on her second cup of coffee. She had finished off the first along with the pills Sydney had brought up, much to the latters' stern protest. Mac reasoned that she always took aspirin with a good dose of caffeine to help it work faster. And who could fight it out when it came to Mac? They just let the sick colonel have her way, but not before the Admiral's ex-girlfriend gave her a good run down about how doctor's orders are meant to be followed, and when questioned about her other set of pills, and being silly enough to reply that she's thrown them out. She got the whole pep talk that shrinks were doctors and were meant to be obeyed. Sydney even went to the trouble of pulling her records with Dr. Annie Hinn, and getting her a fresh prescription, which she of course made her take on the spot. Mac was utterly relieved when she finally made a move home.
"Bud's coffee tastes like crap…" she gawked a little, "watery…" trying to get AJ and Harriet to loosen up a little. They smiled a bit in return.
AJ commented dryly, "Not something you should be complaining about, be grateful we're letting you have any to begin with."
"But you're right," Harriet winked, "Bud's coffee tastes like crap."
Then began the pointless conversation about who makes what kind of coffee, how much is enough, how much is too much, how Mac puts enough powder in to kill the whole office. Mac felt horrible, they were being so nice. They didn't have to say for her to know she had made a complete fool of herself. She could remember what she'd done, running out in the rain, deliriously demanding to know where Harm was, waking up on the Admiral's sofa, and then having the whole emotional upheaval on his shoulder! To make matters worse the Admiral insisted she stay on the couch in his office! If she was able to get hold of a rifle right now, she'd shoot herself square. She was definitely more sober now that the fever was going down, but she still felt drained and weak, tired and sick; not sure if it was the sickness or the crying, maybe both. Her eyes were painfully swollen still, and her nose thoroughly blocked. At the back of her mind was a zillion thoughts raging together; of Harm, the accident, the worry, the dream; also of Mic, the fight, the wedding, everything. They were a constant drone of arguments and questions, at present so mixed up she couldn't tell which was her voice, or Harm's, or anyone else's.
Don't make a promise you can't keep.| I haven't yet.
We're getting too good at saying goodbye.| Why goodbye and not goodluck?
One thing she knew…
I didn't say goodbye…
Harriet noticed Mac a little lost in herself, AJ as well, but he just silently observed. Harriet scooted over next to Mac, pulling her close and landing a solid kiss atop her head. Mac leaned over onto her shoulder, taking in the comfort and refuge she found there.
"All will be fine, sweetheart," Harriet hugged her tight, "You'll see."
Outwardly she seemed stable enough, as much as anyone who had just had a breakdown and faced with the likelihood of having lost the most important person in her life, AJ thought to himself. He was silently grateful the medication seemed to be having its effects, but the other half of the time he wondered if that was really what was best for her. Past the hard external of that marine, past her only temporarily fatigued and lithe exterior, past the sober front she had up now, he saw a sadness and vulnerability that ran deeper than she would allow herself to acknowledge. And he knew that even if Harm were to come back alive and well right now he wouldn't see just relief and happiness, but the lack of hope along with it. He knew that with time all things were possible, that she'd find things to fill her life with joy, and perhaps she'd be able to let go and move on someday, yet he wondered if that void that had been raised to the surface to today, would not still be there years later.
"Harriet, why don't you go check on Ms. Peterson, make sure she's doing alright..."
"Aye, aye, Admiral," Harriet gave Mac a gentle squeeze and started out the door. She knew the Admiral could get through to Mac in certain ways none of them could, and this was what the latter needed right now. And it would be a good time to see how Renee was holding up as well. She wasn't as close to her as to Mac, but nevertheless cared for the other. Beneath that optimistic and rather lively personality was also a wonderful person, and friend. It was just unfortunate how complicated things were around Harm and Mac sometimes.
Harriet rapped lightly before going in.
"Hey," Renee looked up.
"Hey," the other replied back, then walked towards her husband, "Hey, you, you doing alright?"
Bud moved toward her and gave her a brief kiss, nodding, "I'm good…you?"
"I'm fine, Bud…listen, why don't you go on with your work, I'll stay here with Renee."
"You sure?" he asked, "Would you mind, Ms. Peterson?"
"Oh not at all, Bud, I'm sorry if I held you up…" Renee replied.
"You didn't, Ma'am…" Bud assured her, "it's nothing urgent."
"Yeah," Harriet supported, "I thought you might prefer some female company."
"That I would love, Harriet, …but you were great too, Bud!" she quickly added, "I didn't mean it that way…"
"No offence taken at all, Ma'am" he smiled reassuringly, "I'll leave you two alone…see you later," he gave Harriet another kiss and went back to his office.
"Have I ever told you how lucky you are, Harriet?" Renee said.
Harriet walked over and settled down next to the other on the small couch, "How you holding up?"
Renee sighed, "Pretty good I guess, how's Mac?"
Harriet was a little flabbergasted by the question, but tried her best to conjure an easier reply, "She's sick…had her medicine, so the fevers' going down…."
"No, Harriet…I mean how is she?" Renee asked once more.
The other took a deep breath and then tweaked the conversation to a level more comfortable for her to work with, "Does it matter?"
"I suppose it shouldn't…" Renee reflected.
"Renee…"
"You don't have to pretend, Harriet," she said in earnest, "really. I understand."
"You know she doesn't intentionally mean to upset you…"
"I know, which I guess is what makes it so hard to be a bitch about it," she smiled to alleviate the discomfort the other felt.
"You're not a bitch," Harriet laughed, trying pull a good frown.
"Oh but I am, dah-ling," Renee pulled her best diva impression, making them both laugh harder.
"Well, in my book you're the complete opposite," Harriet briefly put her arm around Renee to give her a squeeze, "You're a 'dear'."
Renee's looked down, but spoke of gratefulness for the sweet words, and she confided, "I've been counting down the days to the wedding…"
"I'm not surprised…" the other commented without malice.
"I don't mean to…you know…" she emphasized, beginning to fiddle with her nails as a meaningless distraction.
"I know." Harriet assured her.
"With my dad's…thing, I've just been thinking a lot more, about what I want, what I need…"
"Any conclusions yet?" Harriet asked.
"Mmm…" Renee shook her head, "Not yet, soon perhaps…care to share any input?"
Harriet pondered carefully what to say, then told the other affectionately, "I won't speak for either of them…but Harm is with you right now, and Mac's with Mic. You need to figure out what you want, and how much you're willing to give to have that."
"Are you always sure about Bud?" Renee asked.
"Not always…sometimes more 'not' than 'sure', " she grinned, "We have our good times, and our bad, and the ugly… but I guess it boils down to that we're committed to being together." Harriet shrugged, "I love him, and I know he loves me."
"I love him…and I know he loves me…I just…"
"Just what?"
"I just wonder sometimes if that's enough."
"Hmm…won't lie to you, love is a strange thing. Sometimes you find the perfect one, but it just doesn't work out. Sometimes you find the not-so-perfect one, and you work it out."
Renee said nothing, but looked up at the other wonderingly.
Harriet gazed back tenderly and advised, "Find out what you want, Honey, whether or not Mac walks down that isle with Mic."
***********
AJ's Office
JAG Headquarters
Mac hesitated a long while and she still couldn't find an answer in herself. She was grateful the Admiral hadn't called Mic though, things were difficult enough as it was.
"I don't know, Admiral…and I'm not looking for the easy way out on this," she told him, "I just don't know. I don't."
I don't.
"It's alright, you're entitled to that answer," AJ replied, "who's got anything figured out when it comes to such things…I thought did, God knows I didn't."
Do you love me, Sarah?
Of course I do…
Is because I love you?
He studied her as she huddled to the other ends of the sofa across to him, watching as fingered the rim of her mug not wanting to meet his eyes.
"Do you think what Mic said was true?" he continued.
"I do love him, sir."
I love you because of you.
"So tell me, why are we here exactly?"
Why are you marrying me, Sarah?
Mac was a little bewildered by the question, and did her best to answer, "Waiting…"
For how long?
"For?" he curtly prodded.
"…news about Harm…" she added.
Do you love, Mic?
"Hmm. Why?" he persisted.
"Because we care…and we're worried…sir?" she tried.
He's my best friend.
AJ gulped down a mouthful of cold coffee and put the mug on the coffee table. Mac's eyes followed this but snapped back to him when he spoke once more, "Wrong answer, Col."
"W-wrong, sir?" she felt uneasy at the accusation.
"That's was my reason for being here…as well as Bud's and Harriet's…" he stated plainly, and then looked at her more intently, "Why are you here, Mac?"
She pulled the blanket tighter around herself feeling even more vulnerable than before.
That's not a question you get to ask.
**********
Latham's Office
Washington, DC
"What you're telling me is this has to do with someone in the Pentagon,"
"Not necessarily…"
"Or someone who has access to it," Bobbi corrected.
"But it had to have been…"
"…have been an inside job because there's no way the guy could have gotten in undetected and then screwed around with the entire security system and gotten out like the invisible man."
Clay raised an eyebrow in amusement, she was finishing his sentences, and wasn't the least bit disturbed that she was. "Precisely." He affirmed.
"And what was that you said the perp used?"
"Allamander." Clay replied, taking the last bite out of his steak and cheese subway before crushing the wrapper.
"And what did you say he did?"
"He used the wood to make kebab sticks," he answered, and continued the rest along with her,
"And the facility detectors only register substances that have been artificially engineered because they expect attempts of a certain caliber to be made, therefore excluding the possibility of naturally occurring organic substances being used in assassination attempts."
Clay smirked as he cleared the table, "But obviously, that assumption is going to change…you done with that?"
"Mmm-hmm."
He took the half eaten fries and hoisted it into the brown paper bag. Then he made a quick swipe for the wine glass in her hand, much to her annoyance, "Hey! I'm not done with that!"
"Oh I think you are…" he told her.
"I'm not drunk, Webb," she assured him.
"Yes, I agree," he agreed, "But then again…"
"I'm not," she persisted.
"Alright, here," pulled her out of her chair and pointed a specific brown stripe along her floor carpet, "walk along this line, toe to heel."
She did so, "See?"
"Hmm," he gloated, "the fact that you could accomplish that – you're not drunk. The fact that you bothered to – enough."
He packed remnants of dinner lying about the table and stuff the brown bag into the bin.
"Thanks for dinner, Webb," Bobbi said as she opened the French windows and stepped onto the balcony. Clay picked up his blazer and slipped it back on, muttering, "the fact that you're thanking me – more than enough."
"I've waited a long time for this…"
"And what might that be?" he said joining her outside, his trench coat in one hand prepared to leave.
"This here…" her eyes leading back to her office.
"Don't tell me your ambition when you were a kid was to be in American politics?" Clayton obliged her conversation, but was a little struck by the answer.
"As a matter of fact it was," Bobbi replied glancing at him briefly before she looked back out into the night, "I didn't grow up in Michigan, at least not till I was thirteen anyway."
Clay knew her background well enough, but let the lady carry on, "No, I lived in Chicago; my parents died when I was two, my eldest brother raised me and another bro with money he got working for drugs on the street for some rich guy. He couldn't do anything else, had no education. He died when I was twelve. Got knocked off by guys from another crib…the neighbor came to our door the next day."
Bobbi removed her hands from the railing and crossed them, shivering in the cold; Clay automatically took off his blazer and put it over her shoulders, and she pulled it closer, continuing, "I remember I was watching this big white limo going by, you know with one of those openings in the roof?"
Che nodded.
"Yeah well it stopped in the middle of my neighborhood, just outside my window. Was a white guy sprouting fancy words about 'changing our situation' and whatever…would have been nice if he actually meant what he was saying. Anyway my second brother dropped out of high school, moved us to Michigan because he didn't want his little sister 'going down' that way. Worked his ass off to make sure I got the best education possible. And it changed my life."
"So now you work your ass off to make sure no one else has to go through the same thing?" he was amused.
"Well it beats running around looking for 'classified shit'…" she joked back.
He laughed too, and then excused himself when his cell phone rang. She left him to answer it.
"That was Furginnson…" he reported, "he says Reese is out of the red, he's put a four-man watch on her room."
"Thank God…" Bobbi let out, "I thought…when I saw her…" she covered her mouth with on hand.
"Yeah well," Clay remarked, "She's doing just fine now."
He closed the gap in between them and studied her intently, "The question is, are you?"
************
JAG Headquarters'
The knock at the door startled her, but her hopes began to fall the moment she saw who it was – Bud. AJ remained composed though, his gears still aligned with the conversation with Mac. Both didn't seem to notice the elated expression on his face as he came in.
"Yes, what is it, Bud?" AJ enquired.
"Its Commander Rabb, sir!" he told eagerly, "He and Commander Turner are back!"
************
Latham's Office
There was silence between them for a moment, and Bobbi felt uneasy under his gaze, uncomfortable with the close proximity. They held that way for a while, allowing the tension to still them a little longer, but both knew better, and eventually stepped back.
"I think you're right," Bobbi commented awkwardly, "I've had too much to drink."
"Yep," he nodded, swallowing, "I'd better go…"
"Uh-huh," she agreed.
They began moving back into her office.
************
JAG Headquarters
AJ took his time making his way to Harm's office. When the news came Mac had practically thrown of the blanket and dashed over. Past him and even Bud. She walked briskly of course, keeping enough composure, but he knew what she must have felt when the news came. He was astounded himself.
Mac on the other hand, who was now standing at his door, wasn't feeling the same way she had just moments earlier. His back was towards her. And as quickly as hope and come it had left. On one hand there was assurance that he was alive and well, on the other AJ was right, she felt a void that just hadn't been taken away. There he was, once again, someone else in his arms. Harm never saw the joy on her face disintegrate into hidden devastation. Harriet did, as she stood, in between the two, watching from a distance.
"Commander," AJ said as he reached the open door where Sturgis was also standing, he put his hand on the other's shoulder as though to make sure he was really there in one piece. Then with his hand still there he looked into the office for Harm, just as he was extricating himself from Renee's hug, "Commander," AJ repeated this time to him. He saw Harm's eyes fall on Mac before finally acknowledging him, and he could only imagine Mac's thoughts.
Sturgis entered the office after AJ as he demanded, "Mind telling me what the hell happened?"
When Harm didn't answer because he was too distracted by the sickly marine colonel standing at his door, Sturgis replied for them, "We had dog trouble, sir…the mutt over there," he motioned to a box on Harm's desk, "decided to take a stroll in the rain, and our friend over here," he said referring to Harm, "had his head in the clouds."
AJ frowned, "the CO at Norfolk told us you were in an accident, that you skidded along the road…"
"We did, sir." Harm replied, "We went off the road and right into a tree. Car was pretty well smashed up but we got away with nothing more than a few cuts and bumps."
"Mmm…" AJ examined the bruise just under Harm's left eye, "we were cut off from Norfolk before Admiral Jacobs could give us any details…obviously before he could tell us that you were alive!"
Harm forced a courtesy smile; Sturgis laughed, as did Renee and Bud who was now standing beside Mac.
"I'm sorry if we worried anyone," Harm added, to Mac more than anyone else.
"How did you manage to get back then?" Renee put her arm around his waist, causing his arm to instinctively go up over her shoulders, slower though this time. His eyes on Mac
"The medic who attended to us happened to be driving up for the weekend…"
"He gave us a lift back to the office since my car is here," Sturg finished for his friend.
AJ nodded, "Well then, you both seem pretty intact," he said giving them a brief looking from head to toe, "Nothing missing…would it be too much to expect to see you both in at 0900 tomorrow?"
"Not a problem, Admiral." Sturgis replied.
"Not a problem at all, sir," Harm answered.
"Well then, bright and early gentlemen," AJ stated as he turned to leave, ushering Mac along.
"Mac," Harm stopped her, "I'll see you tomorrow?"
Mac hardly looked at him when she nodded. AJ then placed his arm over her protectively as they headed back to his office.
"Come on, handsome," Renee tugged at his waist, "Let's get you home."
Harm picked up the brown cardboard box and murmured to the tussled pup inside, "I think she's talking to you."
Renee swatted him playfully and pulled him along, "Come on, I poofed."
He laughed with her a little as they walked down the corridor and into the elevator. When the doors began to close he caught a glimpse of her sitting in the Admiral's office, as he came to close the door, and his mind drifted back to a day just like this one…
You're doing this now because you're guilty about not doing it then?!
Woah, you're angry with me? Renee's father died!
And if he hadn't?
"If he hadn't…" Harm mumbled in dismay.
"Did you say something?" Renee asked.
"Who me?" he replied.
"I don't see anyone else in here…unless you count the dog…"
"No, I don't think I said anything…" he answered.
"Well then, must have been the dog then," she remarked, mock-frowning at the little thing inside.
Harm watched her play with his new friend for a while, and then began retreating back to his thoughts once more, his eyes becoming sad once again.
We would have talked.
We would have talked, He nodded absently to himself.
We're getting to good a saying goodbye…
Harm wet his dry lips agreeing.
Just like that day, he lamented,
Just like that day.
************
Latham's Office
He told her he would have offered her a ride home, but that it probably wasn't a good idea. He had insisted she was not to drive home as she was, so that's how he ended up with her, waiting by the road for a taxi.
"Listen, I'm going to run the whole thing by Harm, tomorrow at the gala, according to how we planned…"
"According to how you planned…" he had to say.
"Fine," she let it go by, "According to how I planned. But I'm not going to push…I spoke with him today, and he and Sarah…well, I'm just not so sure I want to."
"Hmm…Harm and Mac," Clay mused, "now there's a pair. So perfect it can never work out."
She held back for a moment, then couldn't resist, "Kind of like you and me." But when he stared at her looking worried, she corrected, "I'm kidding!"
"Just checking…" he murmured weakly, grabbing the insides of his coat pockets and reminding himself never again to mix wine with business while on a job with Bobbi.
Clay caught sight of a vacant taxi pulling round the corner and quickly flagged it down. He opened the door and gave some instructions to the driver, passing him a twenty-dollar bill. And then he turned to Bobbi, moving aside to allow her room to get in.
"I'll send some people over to your place tomorrow to pick you up and take you to…'erm', and then to the office after."
Bobbi looked at him questionably, and he explained, "After today, best be careful. I can't have my batter dying…compromised, "he corrected, "before the games even begin."
She nodded slightly disappointed and was about to get in, then he stopped her by the elbow, the taxi door mediating in between them, "Bobbi…if you need to talk about what happened today…"
He paused for the longest time, and decided it best to revise his intentions, "Look for someone." He told her plainly. But she stared at him intently, and began to lean in a little towards him. He froze, but didn't want to step back.
She did, reminded herself of who they were.
"You think those two will ever get it together?" she finally said, looking down towards the ground.
Clay shook his head, and affirmed, "Too perfect…"
"Mmm…" she agreed, "it'll never work."
There was silence for some more, and then he mustered, "You'd better go."
Bobbi smiled back at him, and then picked up her courage to give him a chaste peck on the cheek, He was clearly taken aback. She could have swore if the lights were brighter he had blushed.
"Goodbye, Mr. Webb," she bade and got into the taxi.
He closed the door for her, and she never for once looked back as the taxi sped off. He approved.
Once the taxi was a good distance off, he nodded, and a car across the street lighted up; the two men inside nodded back at him, and set off following the taxi.
Clayton inhaled deeply, sucking in a decent breath of the cold midnight air. And he smiled to himself, "Goodbye, Congresswoman."
He stepped off the sidewalk and hurried across the street to his car.
Never look back.
************
Roberts' Car
Mac leaned up against the backseat, her hands by her side. Her entire body was tired out from the nights' events, but her heart all the more so.
I'm so sick of this dance.
"So sick of the dance…" she murmured only to herself.
When AJ had asked her that question, what do you want? She had told him she didn't know. And after a whole round of twenty questions, she actually thought she knew, but now she knew she probably didn't.
I don't know, she told herself, I don't.
Bud focused on the road ahead, but occasionally stole glances into the rearview mirror just to see how she was doing. Harriet turned around a couple of times, but scarcely wanted to disturb her. Mac hadn't spoken a word since coming from the office. All she would say to Harriet was that if it wasn't too much trouble, she wanted to go home. Mac looked composed enough, no different from her usual self, but the sadness Harriet saw in those eyes were far more seated than she could behold, and she decided it was best to leave her to be alone for now. It was as though the already dim light that once graced those eyes as fire had now been snuffed out deprived of what little glory it had still beheld. Now there was only cool emptiness about them.
And behind the windows to her soul, Mac found herself walking through an endless corridor of open closets, memories of the times spent with Harm. Every moment, every argument, every smile; all carefully catalogued and referenced. On the exterior Mac was a picture of steel, no movement, but inside, she was running from one memory to the next, trying to shut every single closet door. But as she ran on, doors she had closed flew back open, and she couldn't keep up. One memory leading to another.
A single tear rolled down her cheek, then another. When she was sure Bud and Harriet were not looking, she quickly reached up and swiped them away. But once one had escaped her, others threatened to follow close behind, and she held breath, hiding her face behind one hand as she struggled to hold all back in. As she did however, the obstinate persistence of her heart forced her mind into submission. And she felt all the pain of loss, and betrayal and anger and hurt as she saw him, yet did not see him. The memory of him. His back toward her, holding someone else in his arms.
Just like that day.
Just like that day.
And her soul wept in silence.