A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Loved them . . . I'm keeping the chapters rolling but took a while getting this one done! Apologies to you all . . . You know the drill. R&R

Someone Else

She has been with Agent Riley for forty-something minutes. Mac could probably tell you how many seconds. But who's counting? Certainly not me . . . But I must say, she looks quite comfortable in that chair right next to him. They're very close. Too close.

Not that you're jealous . . . teases that voice inside my head, forever sarcastic.

I'm not jealous. I have no right to be. Mac can fool around with anyone she chooses, even if it is another three-piece-suit Webb remake. I don't care. I have no feelings on the matter.

Of course, the fact that you've been staring at the file for forty-something minutes and still haven't digested a word, that doesn't say anything . . .

Of course it doesn't. I was rudely awoken at a very early hour by a screaming Admiral, I'm just tired.

Not to mention the fact you've been staring at Mac for that whole forty-something minutes. . .

No, I reply to myself, well aware of how stupid it was to talk to myself. She just happens to be in my line of view.

Yeah, if you turn your chair around 180 degrees and raise your head up an inch.

I'm just making sure she's doing okay, I convince myself. God, she looks like she's really warning up to Riley. And I know he's warmed up to her. That smile he flashes her every five minutes screams I-had-braces-when-I-was-a-kid but Mac just shoots him back an equally perfect smile. No, it's more perfect. Agent False-Teeth doesn't even rank on a scale close to Mac.

Not that you're ranking them . . .

"Hello, Commander," said Agent Riley, walking out of his office with Mac dogging his steps. "The Colonel and I were just about to get some lunch, would you like to join us?"

He's smiling again, but you can tell he isn't happy. And he doesn't really want me to come along. But who would if you could have Colonel Sarah Mackenzie alone and to yourself? This is totally and completely Mac's idea.

"Uh, no, I'm not very hungry," that complete idiot side of me replies.

Agent Riley just smiles again but Mac's features are graced with a small flicker of concern. She hides it well, but her eyes always give her away. At least, to me they do.

"Oh, well, if you're sure then," said Agent Riley, already walking away, not quite bothering hear if I was quite sure or not. Mac just shoots me a look that I can't quite decipher, somewhere between care, uncertainty, and suspicion.

Why the hell did you do that?

Yeah, I can't believe I'm going along with my reckless side but . . . why the hell did I do that?

Go after her. Who knows what Agent Bugs-my-butt will do?

Yeah, that's right . . . this isn't for my own personal gain. I'm just watching out for Mac. There's not telling what he could do.

Besides, Mac would want you to come.

That's right, she would. Unless she really liked Riley and was just asking me out of politeness. Oh, well, too late for mixed signals.

"Wait," I call after them just as Mac puts her hand on the doorknob. "Maybe I will come with you after all."

Riley just flashes me a glare of annoyance but I'm graced with Mac's one thousand watt smile. And, of course, that's all that really matters.

See that smile Riley? That's mine and mine alone . . .

'Not that you're competitive, Rabb,' I add as an afterthought. But too late for that . . . I'm already following the one woman I've been following for the past nine years . . . and eternity . . . if she'll give me the chance.

I'm staring at Harm from the small crack above my menu. I'm trying to tell what the hell he's thinking. I used to be able to do it without a moment's thought, but these days . . . it seems like things are going better between us, and yet I'm seeing something completely different his eyes that takes all my efforts to decipher. And even when I do decrypt it . . . I don't know what it means.

I'm trying to figure out why at the beginning he didn't want to come with Riley and I but then abruptly changed his mind.

Not that I mind, of course. But still . . . what is he thinking? That's the eternal question, I know. Did it have anything to do with Riley?

Why would it? It's not like this is another Brumby or Webb.

Then again, I reply to myself. He doesn't know that . . . but he should. If he even remotely knew me, he'd know I didn't go for the flashy-smile, show-off types.

I kind of wildly grin. I almost said I didn't go for Harm. Almost. But with every rule, there's always one exception . . . and that's usually the one you end up keeping.

"Well done, people," announced Riley tiredly to the bullpen. "We've made advances, however few, but improvement nonetheless. I would like to thank our two JAG lawyers for coming on such short notice."

He flashes her that grin and I can see the corners of Mac's mouth twist up into a smile. Does she really like Riley that much?

"Well, see you tomorrow, people. Good night, everyone!" there's the movement of everybody getting up from their chairs. I'm about to go over to Mac to see where she wants to go for dinner when I see Riley pull her aside.

I must confess, my first impulse is to run over there and snatch her away from him and yell for all to hear, that she is mine and everyone better back off. But I don't. For one, I know Mac would kick my six into oblivion and . . . that she can handle herself. She can handle herself better than anyone I've ever known.

Instead, I kind of shuffle over to where they're standing and talking, making as if I'm going for a file. I'm just in time to hear snippets of their conversation, the very end.

"And here's my number, Sarah. Call any time."

"Thank you, Aaron."

And that's when I knew I had lost her. I had lost her to someone with fake-white teeth and an arrogance streak a mile long. But most importantly, I had lost her to someone else. Someone that wasn't me.

It wasn't a particularly long drive back to the hotel. But if felt long as hell. There was absolute silence in the car except for the rhythm of Harm's fingers tapping loudly on the steering wheel. It's driving me up the wall. He's driving me up the wall.

"Look, could you quit it for a moment?" I snap. Okay, I've finally lost it. I admit it. But he had it coming.

He stops but he continues to glare at the traffic moodily. What is his problem? He's either ecstatically happy or depressed beyond suicidal. Why the hell does he keep on doing this to me?

We get out of our rental car and we're entering the hotel. He still won't talk to me, not to mention look at me.

"Okay, Harm, what the hell is your problem?" I ask as he's turning the key to room number 27. Our room.

"What's my problem?" he yells back, and I'm kind of shocked. Harm doesn't yell. Not to me, anyway.

"I'm not the one that's doing a Webb all over again!"

That one hit it home.

"What is it with you, anyway, Mac? Why do you have to pick such losers and then fall to pieces when they dump you . . ."

He'd keep going if I gave him the chance. I really would. But I've hear enough. It's not like he's got the greatest girl-friend past either.

"You know what?" I ask softly but it deadens his over-powering voice. "Just go to hell." I can stop the tears from flowing down my face. The one person I thought understood me . . . the one person. But, no, he's just like everybody else. "Go to hell."

I twist open the doorknob to our room and stop. Someone had written exactly what I just said . . . in blood. On our wall.