A/N: Hey people, I'm sorry I've been keeping you all waiting for so long for these chapters . . . I've had a hell of a lot to do (believe me!) I just want to say that I'm going to try and send you the next chapter within this week and I'm going to be going away for the next two weeks (can you say Spring Break Holiday any louder?) and would greatly appreciate it if you tell me what happens on JAG for those two Fridays. I'd be eternally grateful.

Special thanks to: joanoa, Radiorox, Bite Beccy, alix33, starryeyes10, SpaceMan546, Wendy Kaye, froggy0139, Jackia, Tina Frank, Lyssa Grace, snosamie6, cbw, Nesabj, Arian04, RoleModel2, Tomcat GM, jaka, mara-rabb, Abigaile, mjag, MichelleLee, CharmedAli, princess mai, dansingwolf, martini1988, squirtbug158, jaggurl, Tinny, Elysabeth, hothing40, jagdreamer, Steelo, Sube, rjm-az, and anyone else who reviewed!

Alright, back to the story, now where were we? Oh yes, Harm being pitched out of the helicopter . . . (grins evilly, well you'll have to wait a bit longer . . .) Joking . . . joking . . . read, be happy, be merry, and review!

Captive

Where am I?

Those words bounced around my skull, reverberating off its seemingly empty walls. I opened my eyes and instantly took in a blurred sight. My head felt fuzzy. I sat up, shakily bending my arms and then swiveled around and puked what I believe was my entire stomach out onto the floor.

"Ugh," I spluttered, spitting out the taste onto the floor. I turned around. The room was empty of people. The walls were grey . . . reflecting my mood perfectly. They were plastered and peeling. There was only one window in this godforsaken room . . . and it shed white light on the small cot that stood on the side.

"Oh," I said slowly, touching my forehead ever so slightly. I felt like my skull has been cleaved in two. Where am I? I looked around the room again. There was a door off to the far side. I jiggled the doorknob up and down and then twisted it . . . to no avail. No, I was definitely locked in.

I tried to think back to yesterday. Catherine and I were shopping at the mall . . . we were talking about Harm . . . and then she got the email . . . from Harm . . . the Café . . . and then I remembered.

I struggled to my feet. I needed to get out of here. The gun . . . the person with the gun . . . they were the Phantom. It all suddenly became clear. I was going to be next . . . unless . . .

"Ugh!"

A groan. A groan that I didn't utter. I slowly got to my feet, my legs shaking like jelly. I had to have been drugged. There's no way this could be my normal state. I walk shakily to the door.

"Hello!" I call through the solid wooden door. Another groan came from behind the door. "Hello!"

"Beth?" the voice rasped. I closed my eyes. I knew that voice . . . yet it was so damaged it was almost beyond my recognition. "Beth is that you?"

"Yeah!" I echoed, fear really starting to seep into my veins . . . and then I recognized the voice. "Harm . . . is that you?"

"Yeah," Harm gasped, and I could more feel than hear the pain in his voice. I wanted to reach out to him . . . but one solid wooden door blocked our way. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I lied through my teeth. Already my throw up was beginning to smell, and it was only two minutes out of the cycle. This was NOT going to be one of the better days . . . "But what about you? Are you hurt?"

"No," he rasped. That voice was killing me. For all I know, he was beat to a pulp beyond recognition and in need of medical help. All I have is an upset stomach and a minor migraine.

"Look, Harm," I said, urgency spreading in my voice. "We have to get out of here . . . The Phantom. The Phantom is−"

"I know," Harm cut me off.

I pause, shrinking myself against the door and laying my head rest on its wooden panels. Before I knew it I felt my body shaking and I was uncontrollably sobbing.

"Hey, hey, it's going to be all right," Harm whispered to me and there was a slow shuffling and I felt more than heard his body press against the other side of the door. "Mac will find us."

"But it'll be too late!" I cried. "Catherine must be going nuts trying to find us . . . and she's probably driving Webb up the wall with her!"

Harm laughed hollowly. "And wherever they took Lieutenant Boyer, they must be regretting it. She put up one hell of a fuss when they dragged her out."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, leaning against the door crack. I could see the outline of Harm's figure through it. "Who's Lieutenant Boyer?"

"My new rio," Harm replied dryly. "She was with me . . . at one point. But when they took me up to shore they took her off somewhere."

"The shore?" I asked and then Harm pressed his face against the door crack and I gasped. He had dark batches of blood tearing down the side of his cheek. His eyes were blood shot and his forehead beaten with black bruises. And that was only his face. I couldn't even imagine what scarred skin lay under his shirt. "Oh my god Harm . . . what happened?"

"Fell out of a helicopter," he grinned insanely for a minute. "Hurt like hell."

"I'll bet," I whispered. "How'd that happen?"

"Was pushed," he replied slowly and when his eyes face me I could tell he was drugged. His pupils were dilated. "Hit the water . . . it was so cold, Beth. I was frozen solid . . . I felt like I was sinking. I thought I was never going to see you again . . ." his voice trailed off. "I was never going to see Mac again."

"It's all right, Harm," I said softly and I wedged a finger through the door crack to meet his.

Harm shook his head violently, teetering as he did so. "No it isn't. I thought of all the things I never got to do . . ." he twisted his head as if trying to dislodge a though. "All the things I never got to say . . . to some people. And I thought I was dying, Beth. I literally saw the white light . . . and then they pulled me out of the water."

"Who pulled you out of the water?" I breathed.

"Them . . . they . . . I don't know," Harm said quickly. "I never got a chance to get a proper look. They threw me in their . . . barge or something. I was shivering, Beth. The wind was cold and the water was a hundred times colder. They kicked me until I rolled onto the other side of the deck. And then the helicopter landed . . . with Boyer inside. She was screaming and thrashing as they hauled her on deck. She might have kept on screaming but then they threatened to shoot me in the head," Harm whispered. "And she quieted after that."

"You mean there was a barge waiting for you?" Beth cried. "But what were you even doing in a helicopter?"

"Mac," Harm's voice cracked. "She got . . . hurt. She was in the hospital." He twisted so he could stare me directly in the eye. "You don't understand, Beth, I had to go. She was . . . I love her, Beth."

I felt something stir inside me . . . not something I would have thought I'd feel. Remorse, regret, even jealousy? I twisted to the side so Harm couldn't see me. No . . . I couldn't be in love with Harm. I couldn't be . . .

I knew about Mac. From the first time I saw them together when I was being court-martialed right up to when Harm confessed that they weren't speaking. I saw the friction. This was a long time coming. So why had it snuck up so unsuspectingly?

Because I was experiencing something called lust . . . stupid, idiotic, thoughtless lust . . . over Harmon Rabb, Jr.

"They're WHAT!" Webb hollered into the phone. Catherine stood behind him, hair shooting in all which ways and looking possibly more tired than ever, but her bright blue eyes shone with alertness. It was 10:27, they had been sleeping for almost seven hours. And it was rather comfortable, if she didn't say so herself.

"Well, FIND THEM!" Webb roared into the phone and slammed down the receiver so hard that Catherine swore the phone jumped.

"What's wrong?" she whispered ghost-like.

"Rabb and Boyer," Webb said, collapsing on the couch with a look of defeat. His hair too was sticking up and he had the air of someone who woke up at three am by an unwanted visitor . . . though unwanted was hardly an adequate description. "They're missing. Gone. Apparently someone called in to headquarters and said they were sending a different helicopter to pick them up. Like a fool, Jenson, our new intern, gave the okay and they picked Rabb and Boyer up and now . . ." Webb put his head in his hands and sighed, "they've vanished off the face of the earth."

"Oh my god," Catherine whispered. "What are you going to do?"

Webb stared for a minute at her and then leapt to his feet. Striding across the room without even bothering to change out of his clothes from last night, he grabbed his keys and opened the door.

"Wait!" Catherine called, leaping up after him. "Where are you going?"

"Hospital," Webb replied in short form, locking his apartment door after Catherine exited.

"Will Mac be able to help?" Catherine asked. "She was in there the whole night. She won't know anything. How can she help?"

"In more ways than you could imagine," Webb grunted as he and Catherine shuffled into his car.

"Webb!" Mac cried as Clay and Catherine entered her room quickly. "Where's Harm? What's happened to him?"

Catherine shot Webb a glance. How the hell did this not surprise him?

"A) We don't know," Webb said, settling by Mac's bed, "and b) we believe he was kidnapped."

He spoke slowly, quietly, as if breaking it to her gently would ease the pain that slowly seeped into her heart. It took only minutes before tears welled up in her eyes, but it was obvious to everyone in the room that she would not let them break.

"He fell," she said slowly, and turned away, speaking very gently. "Into the water . . . just like he did in the Atlantic." Her voice cracked.

"What do you mean?" Webb said, his eyes expressing the urgency though his voice remaining soft. Catherine stood by the bed, almost fascinated by the scene unfolding.

"I saw him . . ." Mac's eyes misted over. "I saw him fall . . . into the water. And he was screaming."

"Screaming what?" Webb asked, his voice rising and his face unable to hide his emotion any longer. "What was he screaming, Sarah!"

Mac looked at him, her eyes dazed by the fire in Webb's. "He was screaming my name."

Webb paused and turned to Catherine, the stare he sent her speaking volumes. "Stay here," he whispered hoarsely, standing up and moving towards the door. "Don't let anyone in, don't let anyone out. I'm sending in the G-Force for security."

He moved towards the door but Catherine leapt to block him. Rising slightly, she drew her eyes level with Webb's. "I'm going with you."

Webb stared at her, inclined to push her out of the way and be done with it right then and there . . . but he wouldn't. And not just for her sake. "Catherine, this is dangerous, get out of the way."

"No!" she replied with such force her eyes sparked. She stretched both arms out and coiled them on the side of the door, "and I'd like to see you make me."

Mac watched the couple in interest . . . limited interest. After all Harm was out there.

Webb slowly reached his hand in his back pocket and pulled out his gun. Drawing it level to him, he let her observe his smooth movements before slowly backing away so that he could fully stretch out the gun. "Get out of the way."

She paused, straining her eyes to meet his. "I'm coming with you. We're a team."

Webb stared into her eyes and she met his, glaring ferociously. He slowly lowered the gun. "You're right, we're a team."

Catherine slowly lowered her arms and took a step from the door. That was when Webb sprung. He bolted forward, shoving Catherine to the side. He did it forcefully . . . but not hard enough to hurt her. Dashing down the corridor, Webb ran full force into the elevator, only pausing once to whisper to the guard "Lock Down."

And within moments the CIA Hospital of Langley Virginia was barred. No one in . . . no one out. And Catherine Gayle could only watch from the infirmary window as Webb road off with his gun by his side in a black SUV . . .

"This is hopeless!" I heard Beth cry in despair. She slammed something down on the floor and I could feel her dragging her feet towards the door. "We've been trying for god knows how many hours and it doesn't work! I'm sorry, Harm, but I'm tired, my fingers are tired, I'm drugged. I want to sleep."

"We've almost got it, Beth!" I hollered back, though there was no need. We're only an inch of wood apart. I pressed me eye to the lock and watched as she jiggled it back and forth. "Now move the wire to the left a bit . . ."

"That wire – is – my – fingernail," Beth growled through gritted teeth as she moved her nail a little more to the left. It had taken Harm a while to convince Beth to cut off her nail . . . and even longer to convince her to bite it off seeing as they were lacking on nail clippers.

"And you're doing a magnificent job," Harm replied, his voice dripping with flattery. "But we've got to hurry." He cast a dark look around his prison-like room. "They'll be back at any moment."

"I've almost got it," Beth whispered, cinching her nail along the lock lines. "I've just got to twist it at the top."

There was a crashing down stairs. Harm cocked his head up, his ears straining hard. "They're back," Harm whispered.

"Wait!" Beth called, oblivious to the commotion down stairs. "I've got it!"

She flung the door open at the same time the door in Harm's room flung open. Revealing the Phantom, Beth, and a very shiny gun . . .

"Ugh, what are we going to do!" Catherine hollered for the millionth time, pulling a pillow to her face to dampen the noise of her shrill pitched scream. "It's been two hours since Webb left and nothing! He hasn't even phoned us on his damn cell phone!"

"Who knows what Webb's doing?" Mac said, comfortingly, but her mind was elsewhere . . . her thoughts trailing along those of a certain pilot. "The only reason he kept you here is because he cares about you."

"Well, why does he have to care so damn much?" hollered Catherine back.

"That's just the way Webb is," Mac said with a sigh. Her head felt so much better today and yet she was confined to the hospital bed the same way Catherine was confined to the hospital. At least she could walk around . . . "He cares about the people he loves and doesn't want to see them get hurt."

"And yet pointing a gun at them, throwing them out of the way, and imprisoning them in a hospital are making sure they're safe!" Catherine laughed sardonically. "Well, I'd hate to see Webb's wild side!"

"Clay doesn't have a wild side," Mac said tiredly. "He's 24/7 Webb Watch. And you should be grateful he cares so much about you that he would point a gun at you, throw you out of the way, and imprison you in a hospital all to see you're safe. That's commitment."

"That's brutality," Catherine replied. "And he cares a lot about you too . . . yet I don't remember seeing him this adamant about your safety even when you were dating him." Catherine sighed, running her hands through her blonde hair. "What happened between the two of you anyway?"

I caught my breath inside of me, bringing my thoughts down to earth. "We broke up."

"Thanks for the details," she replied sarcastically, slumping into one of the chairs beside the window. "If you don't want to talk about it, we don't have to."

"No," I replied calmly, sitting myself up in the bed, "I don't mind. Besides," I checked the clock, "if we're going by Webb Standard Hours, I'd say we have all the time in the world."

Catherine nodded and moved her chair closer to me. "So . . . why did you break up?"

"It was a lot of things," I confessed, sighing slightly. "Me . . . him . . . the both of us. He did something that I could never forgive him for."

"Which was?" Catherine looked at me with her imploring blue eyes.

"He lied to me," I said slowly. "He endangered my life when there was no reason to." I stared at her with equal meaning. "He didn't care about me the way he does for you."

"Webb doesn't care two sticks about me," Catherine scoffed.

I stare at her. How could someone this vigilant be so completely blind? "Has he ever lied to you?"

Catherine stared at me, but her eyebrows furrowed to show she was thinking about it. "No . . ." she replied slowly, voice strong. "I don't think so."

"And seeing as you're stuck here with me when you look reasonably healthy, I would say he's protecting you," I grinned slightly at the slow shock forming on her face. "You're a keeper."

"Webb," I barked into my cell phone.

"Meet me at eight o'clock," the voice said in a low gravelly tone making my ears strain to hear them.

"Who is this?" I asked, clutching my cell phone to my ear, my eyes taking a frantic search of the area. Harris sat beside me, his eyebrow cocked, waiting for me to give him some sort of sign.

"Petro Gas Station," the voice continued on, ignoring my question. "At the Corner of Sutton and Third. Do you know it?"

I paused for a moment, looking at the ID of the caller. 'Unknown' was all I got for my efforts. "Yeah," I barked a reply, "I know it."

"Be there," the voice said, their low voice taking on a menacing tone.

"Or what?" I brave myself to say.

"Or your lovely girlfriend will be adopting a new shade of make up," the voice said quietly, "blood red."

"I don't have a girlfriend," I stammer, but my mind is reeling. I know who they're talking about.

"Men hardly just spend the night with any old friend or colleague," the voice sneered into the phone. "But I must say, Webb, you've certainly picked yourself a winner. She and Ms. Mackenzie seem to be having a rather in-depth conversation. Gossiping about you would be my guest."

I grip the phone tighter. "How do you know where they are?" I replied, voice shaking.

"They eyes don't lie, Webb," the voice said slowly. "And neither do cameras."

There was a soft click and a little message popped up on my cell phone. '1 Sent File'. I opened up the file, pressing the buttons quickly. I stared as a picture folded out. A bird's eye view of Catherine and Mac . . . talking in the hospital room. It was taken from outside the window, but it was impossible to tell which angle.

"Got it?" the voice whispered in my ear.

I drew the cell phone back to level with me. "I'll be there," I croaked.

A/N: Hey people! Sorry I've been so long with this next chapter. I'll try and get Chapter 18 out to you by sometime this week. Hopefully within a few days. I hope you liked this chapter. If you did . . . review! And if you didn't, review anyway! I still love constructive criticism.