Well, I've gotten good feedback so far ;) Enjoy, guys! (And I'm not trying to make the American Indians sound bad or anything, for those of you who might take that part in a bad way, but I couldn't find any other way to fit an unconventional weapon in the story.)

0130 ZULU

PARKING LOT

UNION STATION, DC

Harm brushed the snow from Clay's neck to check for his pulse. It was strong, and Clay wasn't really bleeding all that much.

"Webb?" Harm gently shook Clay. Clay's eyelids fluttered, but he didn't wake up. Instantaneously, both Harm and Mac snapped into action. Mac crouched down and sweeped the snow from Clay's face as she dialed 9-1-1. Harm jumped up, and followed the tracks leading away from Webb's car.

"Hello?" Mac took a breath. "I'm in a parking lot at Union Station. A friend of mine just got shot." She sighed as she was told the paramedics were already on their way. Mac hung up, and sat down next to Webb to wait.

* * *

Harm raced down the street. It was a good thing it had been snowing, he might never have been able to follow this person. As the footprints got closer together (it looked like the stranger had slowed down), Harm sped up. Who knows how far this guy could be by now. Harm finally slowed down. There was a bright light up ahead, and the tracks were heading right to a bench on the sidewalk. Harm stopped, and watched the lanky, scraggly- looking man sitting down on the bench. He was holding a big bag on his lap, and kept glancing at his wrist-watch. Harm stared at it, hard. It looked like an expensive one, something you wouldn't expect to see on a man who looked like that. The man pulled something -a wallet- out of his pocket, and took the money out. Putting the money back in his pocket, he dropped the wallet on the ground, and began walking again. Harm hurried over, and picked the wallet up. Webb's face stared back at him. Harm glared at the back of the man walking away from him. Putting the wallet in his own pocket, Harm raced after the man.

"YOU!!" Harm tackled the skinnier man. His bag rolled to the side, and he struggled to get up. Harm shoved his face into the snow, as he pulled the wallet out of his pocket. Gripping the man's hair, Harm held Clay's driver's license close to his face.

"Get offa' me!" The man flung his head back, hoping to hit Harm.

"What is your problem?!" Harm rolled him around, showing him the driver's license again. "You're in big trouble!" He shouted. "That guy you shot back there is a very good friend of mine!" The stranger sneered.

"I didn't shoot him." Harm stared.

"What did you do?" The man smiled, showing his yellowed teeth.

"I used that." He gestured to the bag. With one hand, Harm reached for the bag, placing a knee on his captive's chest. Harm opened the bag, and his mouth fell open. There was a box, a beautiful crystal angel in it, unscathed, and videotapes of Monsters Inc., and Lilo and Stitch. There was also gold jewelry, like Mac's and Manetti's, only with blue topaz. There were also crystal and gold figurines of all the different Enterprises from the years, and a six-inch piece of stone. Harm picked up the stone, and turned to the light. It was a replica of an American Indian knife, graced with carvings in the handle, and a jagged blade. Harm swallowed as he brought his fingers away from the blade, with blood on his fingertips.

"You stabbed him with this?" Harm whispered. Wiping his fingers on his pant leg, he stared at the hideous knife blade.

"Yeah," the stranger gloated. "I stole the knife from somebody else when they left, and the rest of that junk is from the guy I stabbed with the knife. I jumped out from in front of the car and surprised him. He couldn't do anything with his arms, so I had a clear shot. So, I took his stuff as soon as he was down, and ran!" Harm couldn't believe what he was hearing. He carefully placed the things back in the bag, and pulled the man up by his hair. Pushing him back to the parking lot, Harm asked another question.

"Why?"

"Well, I needed money. That, and I've been pretty bored lately." The man bit his lip as they neared the parking lot again. There were two cop cars, and an ambulance parked near Clay's car. "You can get me into a car soon, right? I'm getting cold." Harm glared at the ruthless, nonchalant man as two police officers walked up.

"Get him away from me." Harm shoved the man to the police, and hurried to the ambulance. Mac was sitting on the ground, nodding at what a paramedic was telling her.

"Mac?" Harm licked his lips. The paramedic nodded a greeting to Harm and stepped into the back of the ambulance, closing the door behind him.

"Hey." Mac smiled shakily and stood up. "He got stabbed Harm."

"Yeah." Harm held out the knife.

"And they think he has a concussion. And his throat was starting to swell up too. They think he's got an allergy to something, but they can't figure out what it's from, and they're worried about his suffocating to death." Mac frowned.

"Wow." Harm just stood there. The ambulance sped away, lights flashing, and sires wailing. A police officer took Harm and Mac's phone numbers, for the questions they were sure to have later. As the police left, once again, all was quiet. No noise whatsoever broke the silence of the night as the last of the snow drifted to the ground. Harm bent over, and picked up a set of car keys from off of the ground. He held them out to Mac.

"You want to take charge of his car?" He gestured to Clay's little convertible. Mac shrugged, and took the keys.

"I guess so. But I'm going to the hospital." Mac got in Webb's car, and started it up. Harm started his own car, and followed her to the hospital Webb was going to be at.

* * *