'Reaching for Sarah's Soul' - Part Nine
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Part One
This story is set in the middle of season 7, just after 'Answered Prayers'.
From part eight:
Before he even had the time to notice what he was doing, his arms went around her body, frantically pulling her close as his lips started to mimic her actions. He was reveling in the achingly beautiful awareness that finally, finally, she was where she belonged: close to him. And he was yearning to feel her as close as they could possibly get to each other.
It would have been so easy.
It would have been so wrong.
As quickly as it had started, the kiss was broken, and he hurriedly stepped back, as if the distance he put between them might keep his emotions at bay.
"Harm," she whispered, shaken, her eyes wide and terrified.
Swallowing heavily and resisting the urge to scream, he only shook his head, slowly, sadly.
"Why?" she asked, her voice threatening to break.
"You know the reason," he choked out, turning around and escaping to the solitude of his room before he could destroy their last hopes of ever regaining what they'd once so briefly shared.
Part Nine:
Feb. 13th 1728 ZULU JAG Headquarters Falls Church, VA
Sarah felt she liked green. It suited her well. But still, this uniform felt unfamiliar. It was as if she were wearing some sort of costume. Although she could tell that to the people around here, the sight of her clad in green obviously was a familiar one that they seemed to welcome heartily, Sarah felt out of place. She would never have come if she hadn't known this was something she had to get over with if she wanted to keep the door to her former life open in the long run.
Luckily military protocol seemed to be something that came naturally to her. When she had tried to remember last night how one was supposed to behave in a military institution, she had all but panicked because she hadn't had a clue. Shaking, she had called Harm, and he'd once again been as good as gold. He'd come over and had rehearsed with her until at some point, the perfect execution of an about-face had come back to her - and with it the instinctive knowledge of whom to salute and whom to expect a greeting from. She had still been terribly afraid of accompanying her friend to headquarters this morning but at least she was quite sure that if people didn't ask too many questions, she would be able to conceal that she wasn't really Colonel Mackenzie - that she was just Sarah. And if everything went well, this visit would be the only one required for an indefinite time, maybe forever.
After having met with quite a few friendly faces (the Roberts' whom she had already gotten to know quite well during the last two weeks since she was 'home' to Washington, the African-American commander she recognized as Sturgis Turner, the admiral's yeoman, Petty Officer Tiner...) Sarah had been admitted to Admiral Chegwidden's office to be given her final orders. This was to be the very last thing she'd ever do in this office, she had sworn to herself. Even if she somehow found her way back to being an officer, she doubted she would have liked to work at JAG again. All the history of her many years of work here seemed to loom around every corner, waiting to jump at her. If the military was still her life, she would be serving somewhere else. Starting afresh was what this was all about.
Starting afresh and keeping her distance from Harm.
At first, after her weak moment that night in Arizona, Harm had seemed almost frightened whenever they were together. He had studiously avoided ever making eye contact - if he could - and still answered even more guardedly than before whenever she asked him something personal. A gap seemed to have opened between them that night and for quite some time Sarah had beaten herself up about it, knowing her hurting was self-inflicted. Yet, eventually she had noted that despite the awkward moment standing between them, things hadn't really changed. Harm was still her friend, as reliable and loyal as ever. So if she'd just accept that whatever future they might have had was no more, she would in time be able to close this chapter and let it rest in peace.
Having Harm as a friend was something she learned to appreciate more and more each day. Sarah had gotten used to calling him whenever she felt like talking to someone. After a certain initial strain he had loosened up when talking with her, and the memory of Arizona seemed to fade into the background. They had taken up a habit of seeing each other every night. Harm would cook something for them (Sarah wondered why he always apologized - she thought that healthy cuisine of his was too good to be true), and then he'd tell her about his day, the cases he had worked on, the interviews he had conducted, the people he had met. She would fill him in on what she had studied and how her rehab was going on. After that, they'd just talk about whatever came to mind. Sarah was quite aware that deep inside, she still cherished certain hopes that one day they might move beyond the invisible boundary separating them, but keeping thoughts of the kind locked deep inside was hurting less from day to day.
A week ago, Harm had given her the details of Chegwidden's offer to accept going into reserves as a drawback position for the time being. Thinking it through, she had agreed that it might be her best option. She had done a quick mental check of her financial situation and after finding it modest but secure, she had written the letter. Harm had delivered it the day after.
Stepping into her CO's mahogany-furnished office this morning had been intimidating at first, but that impression had soon lessened. From how Chegwidden had looked at her all the time, Sarah had easily deduced that he was hurting about having to release her. Yet, his benevolent smile when he had ignored protocol and hugged her briefly before dismissing her had reassured her that he was obviously still convinced that she was doing the right thing. His low, "Take care, Sarah, and make sure you come back someday," had told her just how close they'd apparently been.
Clearing out her office hadn't taken up much time - Harriet had already stored her personal things in boxes that Sarah only needed to carry down to her car. She could have left quickly - and yet, when there was nothing left to do but turn her back at the bullpen and walk away, she had found it strangely difficult to do so. Once again, out of nowhere, a fleeting image had crossed her mind: Harm, a cardboard box in his arms, was standing in the very spot she was rooted in - only that she herself was observing the scene from inside the bullpen this time. He was looking back and their eyes met.
The look of sad finality in his eyes had made her gasp and she had done her best to chase the images from her mind. She would deal with them later.
Leaving for good was hard, so now Sarah was sitting in the back row of the main courtroom, following the case that was being tried and trying to imagine herself in Turner's position, facing off against Harm's prosecution. She had to admit that she was impressed and she conceded that she might actually like having a profession of the kind.
So maybe not JAG headquarters, but military law somewhere else, in the future.
Harm was just grilling one of Turner's witnesses and to her surprise, Sarah found herself taking an interest like she would in a football match. She followed Turner's every reaction to Harm's every attack and pride welled up inside her. Her friend was being no less than brilliant. Adrenaline shot up high in Sarah's body and suddenly, she remembered the thrill she had felt so often, standing in front of this very bench, trying to draw in the judge as well as the jury.
Now it was Turner's turn again. Sarah felt this had to be the crucial point of the morning. If Turner was able to disarm Harm's questioning now, he would win. If not. Sarah fixed her eyes on Harm again, as if to let him feel her mental support. 'Go, flyboy, this one's guilty as hell.'
Turner cautiously spoke up. "Petty Officer, you said Chief Wilkes was running a fever that evening. Wouldn't that have clouded his judgement when it came."
'Objection! Calls for speculation,' a voice cried in Sarah's head.
"Objection, your Honor, calls for speculation," Harm cut in sharply. Sarah's eyebrows went up a notch at the synchrony of their reactions.
"Sustained," stated Judge Blakely and Sarah involuntarily made a fist of triumph.
Turner seemed unperturbed. "I'll rephrase: the virus might have affected Chief Wilkes's performance in general, isn't that so, Petty Officer? You knew the flight deck was slippery because the temperature had dropped below 30 degrees, right? The headlights of the incoming Tomcat were blinding you. So..."
'Objection! Defense is answering for the witness!'
"Objection, defense is answering for the witness," Harm remarked calmly, making Sarah wonder if she had said aloud what had been on her mind.
"Sustained," Blakely conceded, giving Turner an intense look. "Commander, please, ask a question."
"I'm sorry, your Honor," Turner apologized. Then he pointedly looked at the witness. "So, Petty Officer, did you or did you not throw caution in the wind in an irresponsible manner when you ordered the chief to."
'Objection! Defense harrassing the witness!'
"Objection, defense is harrassing the witness." Harm's words resounded in the room at the precise moment Sarah heard them in her brain. Starting to feel a little nervous about their thinking so alike, Sarah silently rose and left the courtroom. True, an experienced lawyer might probably have acted the same way Harm had, but using the very same words at exactly the same time, three times in a row. This was starting to get mental. Getting out of here might be a good idea.
At least, the hurt of turning her back at JAG had been lessened considerably by the disconcerting proceedings, Sarah thought, relieved, the moment she ignited the engine of her 'vette and headed home.
Colonel Mackenzie was no more.
Feb. 13th 2332 ZULU Mac's apartment Georgetown, D.C.
Sarah was staring from a hilltop down at a yellow biplane that was parked on the clearing below. Her leg was hurting madly and she was very cold. From behind she could hear the wild barking of the hunting dogs approaching mercilessly.
.as the ringing of her phone made her sit up on the couch with a start. She let out a relieved sigh. This dream had been a particularly vivid one and she was grateful for the break.
Reaching over, she grabbed the receiver and lay back again. "Mackenzie."
["Hello, Colonel, I hope I don't disturb you?"] a young, agreeable voice with a slight accent came over the line. Sarah recognized it immediately.
"Not at all, Sergei. I was just dozing a little but I need to get up anyway. But it's not 'Colonel' anymore."
["Oh, I'm sorry,"] Sergei apologized. ["Of course. Harm told me you received your final orders today. How are you feeling?"]
Sarah sighed. "I'm not quite sure, but I think it was for the best. Anyway, what can I do for you?"
["Nothing. Harm just called me from the office and asked me to make sure you were well. He was a little worried earlier when he found out you had left without letting him know."] In Sergei's voice, too, was ringing some concern.
"I'm okay, really," Sarah reassured him, smiling to herself about being watched by two protective Rabb specimen. "When you call your brother, please tell him that we're still on for tonight, 2000, my place, will you? And if he asks why I left. uhm. just tell him that being able to read his mind isn't a thing I'm used to."
She had meant it as a joke but her face fell when she became aware of the distinct silence on the other end of the line. "Sergei? Everything okay?" she asked, puzzled.
["Yeah, of course."] the young Russian answered cautiously. ["It's just. you know, what you just told me reminds me of what Harm told me about how you located him when he was lost at sea. So it's true."] His thoughtful voice trailed off.
"Excuse me?" Sarah asked, her confusion deepening. "What is true? And I was in D.C. when Harm's plane went down. I couldn't possibly."
["That's just the point,"] Sergei explained softly. ["Harm tells me the search teams passed him several times without finding him. Then the search was called off due to bad weather. It was only after you had that vision and supplied the coordinates that they finally got to him. And just in time. Colonel, I can never thank you enough for saving his life."]
The deepest sincerity of his gratitude was too much. Sarah fell into defensive mode, trying to block out what she didn't understand and didn't want to understand, either. "This is not funny," she said icily.
["But if I tell you that he."] Sergei began but enraged, Sarah cut him off.
"This is no goddamned time for jokes about my lost memory," she blurted out. What did that jerk think he was doing? "Tell me what you have to say or quit producing shit like this!"
For a moment, Sarah thought he had ended the connection but then she heard him draw a shaky breath. ["Harm warned me that upsetting a Marine was potentially dangerous,"] he said, his attempt at mockery barely succeding to conceal his vexation. ["So I won't even begin to try to contradict. But I suggest you call your little sister Chloe and ask her about how you found her when she was lost in the woods. What she told me coincides very much with Harm's story. Good evening, Colonel."]
The line went dead. Sarah stared at the receiver in her hand and tried to get a grip on her whirling thoughts. One thing was obvious: she had seriously upset the nice young man that she'd come to like a lot. And thinking about it objectively, Sergei was too tenderhearted to make up something like this to make fun of her situation. So, then, what the hell was this mental thing?
Nonsense. Pure bullshit. Things of the kind didn't exist.
Yet, a small nagging doubt just wouldn't be chased. 'What if.?' the little voice kept whispering in her head, 'What if.?'
Sarah tried to ignore it for the next hour but instead of shutting up, it only grew louder and louder, resounding in her soul, haunting her.
So eventually, she resigned and gave in to the inevitable. Thumbing through her contacts list, she had soon found the number she was looking for and dialed, not quite knowing what to expect.
["Hello?"] a friendly voice said into her ear.
"Good evening, ma'am," Sarah began, feeling a little self-conscious, "This is Sarah Mackenzie. I'm sorry for disturbing you but I need to speak to Chloe for a moment, if that'd be possible."
["Colonel Mackenzie!"] The voice Sarah had identified as Chloe's grandmother's greeted her warmly. ["I'm so glad you've recovered so well. You're not disturbing us at all. Chloe will be thrilled. Just a moment, please."]
Forty-seven seconds later, a young, radiant voice took over. ["Mac! I was wondering when you'd call! Harm told me you weren't so well yet. It's so great to hear from you! How did."]
Determined not to panic, Sarah gently cut in, "I know, I'm sorry. I should have called earlier. But you know, with my rehab and so on. I barely found the time to call even now and my doctors tell me to concentrate on nothing but my training," she lied. "That's why I have very little time right now, I'm so sorry."
["Don't worry, I'm glad whenever I get a word with you."] Sarah could tell Chloe tried not to sound disappointed. ["So how d'ya do? Found those missing bits of your memory you told me about?"]
Now things were getting tricky. She needed to stick to the story she had given her, that she was suffering a slight, partial amnesia like Harm had after his crash. But at the same time she needed to inquire after something that apparently defined her personality in some way - so 'slight' and 'partial' was getting difficult to hold up.
"Yeah, I learned a lot about myself in the last few weeks," Sarah answered, tingeing her voice as happy and light as she could. "You know, actually it's amazing to find out things about yourself you didn't even know you ever thought about." She let a chuckle follow her statement, hoping it sounded genuine.
["God, I guess it is!"] Chloe agreed, obviously amazed by the concept.
Sarah decided she'd better get to the point as soon as possible. "Actually, this is why I'm calling," she cut in, trying to sound neutrally curious and gulping down her anxiety. "You know, I talked with Sergei today."
["Oh, how is he?"] Chloe asked eagerly.
"He's fine, thank you, and he asked me to say hello to you. Anyway, we were talking about all kinds of things and at some point - I don't even remember how it came up - he mentioned something about that you were once lost in the woods and I found you." Again, Sarah chuckled nervously.
Chloe gasped. ["What? You don't remember? Why, you located me with that mental thing of yours, just the way you located Harm in May. You do remember that one, right?"]
"Of course I do," Sarah lied quickly, "How could I forget that night?" 'Indeed, how could I?' she added sadly in her mind. "I was just surprised that I seem to have done this so often. So I wanted to ask you if you could quickly fill me in on the particulars. I'm sure once you do, it'll all come back in a second."
["Sure,"] Chloe immediately complied. ["You know, there was that tree."]
For the next ten minutes, Sarah just sat and listened, her stomach knotting ever more as her 'sixth sense' or however one wanted to call it, took a distinct form. Not for the first time, she cursed Colonel Mackenzie for having been such a darn complex person. When Chloe had ended, Sarah took a steadying breath and inquired lightly, "Wow, did I ever tell you where this. thing. came from?"
["No, you didn't,"] Chloe answered, obviously amused. ["And when I asked you about it you even told me pointblank that things like that didn't exist. Actually, I'm still wondering how on Earth I convinced you to try and locate Harm with it if it didn't."]
Sarah felt she had to mirror her amusement and forced a little laugh. "Yeah, right."
Luckily, she didn't need to comment any further because Chloe was already going on. ["But I do have a theory,"] she said eagerly. ["It's kinda freaky but if you want to hear it."]
Smirking at the young girl's obvious interest in the supernatural, Sarah admitted to herself that she was burning to know what Chloe was thinking. "Tell me," she simply stated.
["I was thinking if you hadn't inherited it from your Cherokee great- grandmother."]
Confused, Sarah asked, "Cherokee? I thought she was Iranian."
Hearing Chloe laugh out loud, she knew she had to tread more carefully still. ["Gee, Mac, you're doing a poor job disentangling your brains, right? Your mother's mother was Iranian. Your dad's grandma was a Cherokee."]
"Oh, sure, right," Sarah laughed hastily, "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just way too tired to have this conversation. Interesting theory, though. You know what? I'll just hit the rack now and let the info sink in. I'm sure tomorrow everything you just mentioned's gonna be in the right order again."
["It better,"] Chloe answered, her grin audible. ["Go get some sleep and call me when you can, okay?"]
"Sure. Take care, Chloe, I love you," Sarah took her leave, wondering if this had been the right way to do it.
Apparently, Chloe didn't find anything unnatural in her words. ["Love you, too, Mac. And don't panic. Harm got well again. I'm sure you will, too. Bye!"]
"Bye," Sarah said softly to the already dead phone-line. For several minutes she just sat and stared blankly at the receiver in her hand, giving her brain a little time to process what she had just been told. And it was then that an idea slowly began to form at the back of her mind.
She felt completely unwilling to contact a psychotherapist about her state. Whenever Harm had tried to bring up the topic, she had refused pointblank. Trying to tell someone who didn't know her at all anything about a woman she herself hadn't figured out yet - and bringing all the pain out in the open that she was struggling with day by day? Nope. Maybe that was good for other people. But she abhorred the thought of sharing her private agonies with someone so totally unrelated to her.
But. Chloe's theory had struck a chord somewhere inside her. Sarah knew she didn't believe in the supernatural, but just today she had been given more than enough evidence about herself that was hard to contradict. So what if her little sister was right? What if this really was some kind of Cherokee heritage? Improbable as it seemed to her, Sarah felt she was unable to dismiss the possibility from her mind. And if exploring it meant opening up to some kind of. well, medicine man or whoever would know about such things, Sarah felt that strangely, the idea was less appalling to her than seing a therapist. After all, didn't she somehow belong to them?
'God, I must be freaking desperate if I consider doing such a thing,' she scolded herself.
Yet, that night, Sarah Mackenzie went to bed just a little less afraid.
To be continued. (Feedback - as always - very much appreciated!)
This story is set in the middle of season 7, just after 'Answered Prayers'.
From part eight:
Before he even had the time to notice what he was doing, his arms went around her body, frantically pulling her close as his lips started to mimic her actions. He was reveling in the achingly beautiful awareness that finally, finally, she was where she belonged: close to him. And he was yearning to feel her as close as they could possibly get to each other.
It would have been so easy.
It would have been so wrong.
As quickly as it had started, the kiss was broken, and he hurriedly stepped back, as if the distance he put between them might keep his emotions at bay.
"Harm," she whispered, shaken, her eyes wide and terrified.
Swallowing heavily and resisting the urge to scream, he only shook his head, slowly, sadly.
"Why?" she asked, her voice threatening to break.
"You know the reason," he choked out, turning around and escaping to the solitude of his room before he could destroy their last hopes of ever regaining what they'd once so briefly shared.
Part Nine:
Feb. 13th 1728 ZULU JAG Headquarters Falls Church, VA
Sarah felt she liked green. It suited her well. But still, this uniform felt unfamiliar. It was as if she were wearing some sort of costume. Although she could tell that to the people around here, the sight of her clad in green obviously was a familiar one that they seemed to welcome heartily, Sarah felt out of place. She would never have come if she hadn't known this was something she had to get over with if she wanted to keep the door to her former life open in the long run.
Luckily military protocol seemed to be something that came naturally to her. When she had tried to remember last night how one was supposed to behave in a military institution, she had all but panicked because she hadn't had a clue. Shaking, she had called Harm, and he'd once again been as good as gold. He'd come over and had rehearsed with her until at some point, the perfect execution of an about-face had come back to her - and with it the instinctive knowledge of whom to salute and whom to expect a greeting from. She had still been terribly afraid of accompanying her friend to headquarters this morning but at least she was quite sure that if people didn't ask too many questions, she would be able to conceal that she wasn't really Colonel Mackenzie - that she was just Sarah. And if everything went well, this visit would be the only one required for an indefinite time, maybe forever.
After having met with quite a few friendly faces (the Roberts' whom she had already gotten to know quite well during the last two weeks since she was 'home' to Washington, the African-American commander she recognized as Sturgis Turner, the admiral's yeoman, Petty Officer Tiner...) Sarah had been admitted to Admiral Chegwidden's office to be given her final orders. This was to be the very last thing she'd ever do in this office, she had sworn to herself. Even if she somehow found her way back to being an officer, she doubted she would have liked to work at JAG again. All the history of her many years of work here seemed to loom around every corner, waiting to jump at her. If the military was still her life, she would be serving somewhere else. Starting afresh was what this was all about.
Starting afresh and keeping her distance from Harm.
At first, after her weak moment that night in Arizona, Harm had seemed almost frightened whenever they were together. He had studiously avoided ever making eye contact - if he could - and still answered even more guardedly than before whenever she asked him something personal. A gap seemed to have opened between them that night and for quite some time Sarah had beaten herself up about it, knowing her hurting was self-inflicted. Yet, eventually she had noted that despite the awkward moment standing between them, things hadn't really changed. Harm was still her friend, as reliable and loyal as ever. So if she'd just accept that whatever future they might have had was no more, she would in time be able to close this chapter and let it rest in peace.
Having Harm as a friend was something she learned to appreciate more and more each day. Sarah had gotten used to calling him whenever she felt like talking to someone. After a certain initial strain he had loosened up when talking with her, and the memory of Arizona seemed to fade into the background. They had taken up a habit of seeing each other every night. Harm would cook something for them (Sarah wondered why he always apologized - she thought that healthy cuisine of his was too good to be true), and then he'd tell her about his day, the cases he had worked on, the interviews he had conducted, the people he had met. She would fill him in on what she had studied and how her rehab was going on. After that, they'd just talk about whatever came to mind. Sarah was quite aware that deep inside, she still cherished certain hopes that one day they might move beyond the invisible boundary separating them, but keeping thoughts of the kind locked deep inside was hurting less from day to day.
A week ago, Harm had given her the details of Chegwidden's offer to accept going into reserves as a drawback position for the time being. Thinking it through, she had agreed that it might be her best option. She had done a quick mental check of her financial situation and after finding it modest but secure, she had written the letter. Harm had delivered it the day after.
Stepping into her CO's mahogany-furnished office this morning had been intimidating at first, but that impression had soon lessened. From how Chegwidden had looked at her all the time, Sarah had easily deduced that he was hurting about having to release her. Yet, his benevolent smile when he had ignored protocol and hugged her briefly before dismissing her had reassured her that he was obviously still convinced that she was doing the right thing. His low, "Take care, Sarah, and make sure you come back someday," had told her just how close they'd apparently been.
Clearing out her office hadn't taken up much time - Harriet had already stored her personal things in boxes that Sarah only needed to carry down to her car. She could have left quickly - and yet, when there was nothing left to do but turn her back at the bullpen and walk away, she had found it strangely difficult to do so. Once again, out of nowhere, a fleeting image had crossed her mind: Harm, a cardboard box in his arms, was standing in the very spot she was rooted in - only that she herself was observing the scene from inside the bullpen this time. He was looking back and their eyes met.
The look of sad finality in his eyes had made her gasp and she had done her best to chase the images from her mind. She would deal with them later.
Leaving for good was hard, so now Sarah was sitting in the back row of the main courtroom, following the case that was being tried and trying to imagine herself in Turner's position, facing off against Harm's prosecution. She had to admit that she was impressed and she conceded that she might actually like having a profession of the kind.
So maybe not JAG headquarters, but military law somewhere else, in the future.
Harm was just grilling one of Turner's witnesses and to her surprise, Sarah found herself taking an interest like she would in a football match. She followed Turner's every reaction to Harm's every attack and pride welled up inside her. Her friend was being no less than brilliant. Adrenaline shot up high in Sarah's body and suddenly, she remembered the thrill she had felt so often, standing in front of this very bench, trying to draw in the judge as well as the jury.
Now it was Turner's turn again. Sarah felt this had to be the crucial point of the morning. If Turner was able to disarm Harm's questioning now, he would win. If not. Sarah fixed her eyes on Harm again, as if to let him feel her mental support. 'Go, flyboy, this one's guilty as hell.'
Turner cautiously spoke up. "Petty Officer, you said Chief Wilkes was running a fever that evening. Wouldn't that have clouded his judgement when it came."
'Objection! Calls for speculation,' a voice cried in Sarah's head.
"Objection, your Honor, calls for speculation," Harm cut in sharply. Sarah's eyebrows went up a notch at the synchrony of their reactions.
"Sustained," stated Judge Blakely and Sarah involuntarily made a fist of triumph.
Turner seemed unperturbed. "I'll rephrase: the virus might have affected Chief Wilkes's performance in general, isn't that so, Petty Officer? You knew the flight deck was slippery because the temperature had dropped below 30 degrees, right? The headlights of the incoming Tomcat were blinding you. So..."
'Objection! Defense is answering for the witness!'
"Objection, defense is answering for the witness," Harm remarked calmly, making Sarah wonder if she had said aloud what had been on her mind.
"Sustained," Blakely conceded, giving Turner an intense look. "Commander, please, ask a question."
"I'm sorry, your Honor," Turner apologized. Then he pointedly looked at the witness. "So, Petty Officer, did you or did you not throw caution in the wind in an irresponsible manner when you ordered the chief to."
'Objection! Defense harrassing the witness!'
"Objection, defense is harrassing the witness." Harm's words resounded in the room at the precise moment Sarah heard them in her brain. Starting to feel a little nervous about their thinking so alike, Sarah silently rose and left the courtroom. True, an experienced lawyer might probably have acted the same way Harm had, but using the very same words at exactly the same time, three times in a row. This was starting to get mental. Getting out of here might be a good idea.
At least, the hurt of turning her back at JAG had been lessened considerably by the disconcerting proceedings, Sarah thought, relieved, the moment she ignited the engine of her 'vette and headed home.
Colonel Mackenzie was no more.
Feb. 13th 2332 ZULU Mac's apartment Georgetown, D.C.
Sarah was staring from a hilltop down at a yellow biplane that was parked on the clearing below. Her leg was hurting madly and she was very cold. From behind she could hear the wild barking of the hunting dogs approaching mercilessly.
.as the ringing of her phone made her sit up on the couch with a start. She let out a relieved sigh. This dream had been a particularly vivid one and she was grateful for the break.
Reaching over, she grabbed the receiver and lay back again. "Mackenzie."
["Hello, Colonel, I hope I don't disturb you?"] a young, agreeable voice with a slight accent came over the line. Sarah recognized it immediately.
"Not at all, Sergei. I was just dozing a little but I need to get up anyway. But it's not 'Colonel' anymore."
["Oh, I'm sorry,"] Sergei apologized. ["Of course. Harm told me you received your final orders today. How are you feeling?"]
Sarah sighed. "I'm not quite sure, but I think it was for the best. Anyway, what can I do for you?"
["Nothing. Harm just called me from the office and asked me to make sure you were well. He was a little worried earlier when he found out you had left without letting him know."] In Sergei's voice, too, was ringing some concern.
"I'm okay, really," Sarah reassured him, smiling to herself about being watched by two protective Rabb specimen. "When you call your brother, please tell him that we're still on for tonight, 2000, my place, will you? And if he asks why I left. uhm. just tell him that being able to read his mind isn't a thing I'm used to."
She had meant it as a joke but her face fell when she became aware of the distinct silence on the other end of the line. "Sergei? Everything okay?" she asked, puzzled.
["Yeah, of course."] the young Russian answered cautiously. ["It's just. you know, what you just told me reminds me of what Harm told me about how you located him when he was lost at sea. So it's true."] His thoughtful voice trailed off.
"Excuse me?" Sarah asked, her confusion deepening. "What is true? And I was in D.C. when Harm's plane went down. I couldn't possibly."
["That's just the point,"] Sergei explained softly. ["Harm tells me the search teams passed him several times without finding him. Then the search was called off due to bad weather. It was only after you had that vision and supplied the coordinates that they finally got to him. And just in time. Colonel, I can never thank you enough for saving his life."]
The deepest sincerity of his gratitude was too much. Sarah fell into defensive mode, trying to block out what she didn't understand and didn't want to understand, either. "This is not funny," she said icily.
["But if I tell you that he."] Sergei began but enraged, Sarah cut him off.
"This is no goddamned time for jokes about my lost memory," she blurted out. What did that jerk think he was doing? "Tell me what you have to say or quit producing shit like this!"
For a moment, Sarah thought he had ended the connection but then she heard him draw a shaky breath. ["Harm warned me that upsetting a Marine was potentially dangerous,"] he said, his attempt at mockery barely succeding to conceal his vexation. ["So I won't even begin to try to contradict. But I suggest you call your little sister Chloe and ask her about how you found her when she was lost in the woods. What she told me coincides very much with Harm's story. Good evening, Colonel."]
The line went dead. Sarah stared at the receiver in her hand and tried to get a grip on her whirling thoughts. One thing was obvious: she had seriously upset the nice young man that she'd come to like a lot. And thinking about it objectively, Sergei was too tenderhearted to make up something like this to make fun of her situation. So, then, what the hell was this mental thing?
Nonsense. Pure bullshit. Things of the kind didn't exist.
Yet, a small nagging doubt just wouldn't be chased. 'What if.?' the little voice kept whispering in her head, 'What if.?'
Sarah tried to ignore it for the next hour but instead of shutting up, it only grew louder and louder, resounding in her soul, haunting her.
So eventually, she resigned and gave in to the inevitable. Thumbing through her contacts list, she had soon found the number she was looking for and dialed, not quite knowing what to expect.
["Hello?"] a friendly voice said into her ear.
"Good evening, ma'am," Sarah began, feeling a little self-conscious, "This is Sarah Mackenzie. I'm sorry for disturbing you but I need to speak to Chloe for a moment, if that'd be possible."
["Colonel Mackenzie!"] The voice Sarah had identified as Chloe's grandmother's greeted her warmly. ["I'm so glad you've recovered so well. You're not disturbing us at all. Chloe will be thrilled. Just a moment, please."]
Forty-seven seconds later, a young, radiant voice took over. ["Mac! I was wondering when you'd call! Harm told me you weren't so well yet. It's so great to hear from you! How did."]
Determined not to panic, Sarah gently cut in, "I know, I'm sorry. I should have called earlier. But you know, with my rehab and so on. I barely found the time to call even now and my doctors tell me to concentrate on nothing but my training," she lied. "That's why I have very little time right now, I'm so sorry."
["Don't worry, I'm glad whenever I get a word with you."] Sarah could tell Chloe tried not to sound disappointed. ["So how d'ya do? Found those missing bits of your memory you told me about?"]
Now things were getting tricky. She needed to stick to the story she had given her, that she was suffering a slight, partial amnesia like Harm had after his crash. But at the same time she needed to inquire after something that apparently defined her personality in some way - so 'slight' and 'partial' was getting difficult to hold up.
"Yeah, I learned a lot about myself in the last few weeks," Sarah answered, tingeing her voice as happy and light as she could. "You know, actually it's amazing to find out things about yourself you didn't even know you ever thought about." She let a chuckle follow her statement, hoping it sounded genuine.
["God, I guess it is!"] Chloe agreed, obviously amazed by the concept.
Sarah decided she'd better get to the point as soon as possible. "Actually, this is why I'm calling," she cut in, trying to sound neutrally curious and gulping down her anxiety. "You know, I talked with Sergei today."
["Oh, how is he?"] Chloe asked eagerly.
"He's fine, thank you, and he asked me to say hello to you. Anyway, we were talking about all kinds of things and at some point - I don't even remember how it came up - he mentioned something about that you were once lost in the woods and I found you." Again, Sarah chuckled nervously.
Chloe gasped. ["What? You don't remember? Why, you located me with that mental thing of yours, just the way you located Harm in May. You do remember that one, right?"]
"Of course I do," Sarah lied quickly, "How could I forget that night?" 'Indeed, how could I?' she added sadly in her mind. "I was just surprised that I seem to have done this so often. So I wanted to ask you if you could quickly fill me in on the particulars. I'm sure once you do, it'll all come back in a second."
["Sure,"] Chloe immediately complied. ["You know, there was that tree."]
For the next ten minutes, Sarah just sat and listened, her stomach knotting ever more as her 'sixth sense' or however one wanted to call it, took a distinct form. Not for the first time, she cursed Colonel Mackenzie for having been such a darn complex person. When Chloe had ended, Sarah took a steadying breath and inquired lightly, "Wow, did I ever tell you where this. thing. came from?"
["No, you didn't,"] Chloe answered, obviously amused. ["And when I asked you about it you even told me pointblank that things like that didn't exist. Actually, I'm still wondering how on Earth I convinced you to try and locate Harm with it if it didn't."]
Sarah felt she had to mirror her amusement and forced a little laugh. "Yeah, right."
Luckily, she didn't need to comment any further because Chloe was already going on. ["But I do have a theory,"] she said eagerly. ["It's kinda freaky but if you want to hear it."]
Smirking at the young girl's obvious interest in the supernatural, Sarah admitted to herself that she was burning to know what Chloe was thinking. "Tell me," she simply stated.
["I was thinking if you hadn't inherited it from your Cherokee great- grandmother."]
Confused, Sarah asked, "Cherokee? I thought she was Iranian."
Hearing Chloe laugh out loud, she knew she had to tread more carefully still. ["Gee, Mac, you're doing a poor job disentangling your brains, right? Your mother's mother was Iranian. Your dad's grandma was a Cherokee."]
"Oh, sure, right," Sarah laughed hastily, "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just way too tired to have this conversation. Interesting theory, though. You know what? I'll just hit the rack now and let the info sink in. I'm sure tomorrow everything you just mentioned's gonna be in the right order again."
["It better,"] Chloe answered, her grin audible. ["Go get some sleep and call me when you can, okay?"]
"Sure. Take care, Chloe, I love you," Sarah took her leave, wondering if this had been the right way to do it.
Apparently, Chloe didn't find anything unnatural in her words. ["Love you, too, Mac. And don't panic. Harm got well again. I'm sure you will, too. Bye!"]
"Bye," Sarah said softly to the already dead phone-line. For several minutes she just sat and stared blankly at the receiver in her hand, giving her brain a little time to process what she had just been told. And it was then that an idea slowly began to form at the back of her mind.
She felt completely unwilling to contact a psychotherapist about her state. Whenever Harm had tried to bring up the topic, she had refused pointblank. Trying to tell someone who didn't know her at all anything about a woman she herself hadn't figured out yet - and bringing all the pain out in the open that she was struggling with day by day? Nope. Maybe that was good for other people. But she abhorred the thought of sharing her private agonies with someone so totally unrelated to her.
But. Chloe's theory had struck a chord somewhere inside her. Sarah knew she didn't believe in the supernatural, but just today she had been given more than enough evidence about herself that was hard to contradict. So what if her little sister was right? What if this really was some kind of Cherokee heritage? Improbable as it seemed to her, Sarah felt she was unable to dismiss the possibility from her mind. And if exploring it meant opening up to some kind of. well, medicine man or whoever would know about such things, Sarah felt that strangely, the idea was less appalling to her than seing a therapist. After all, didn't she somehow belong to them?
'God, I must be freaking desperate if I consider doing such a thing,' she scolded herself.
Yet, that night, Sarah Mackenzie went to bed just a little less afraid.
To be continued. (Feedback - as always - very much appreciated!)