AN: Hiya! It's me, Blue-Shade on yet ANOTHER friggin' name. Look, I'm starting from my original story, I have PROOF if that's what it takes. All I want to do is write and let yall enjoy my story. Ok, here we go --again.

Spoilers: AJ/Tiner still there, Mattie/Jen not arrived yet, Paraguay & Mac/Webb NEVER HAPPENED! Um...I think that's it. Right after episode Capitol Crime where Mac confesses to Sturgis. Ahem.

Disclaimer: Do you think that if I owned JAG that Webb would still be alive today?! DIDN'T THINK SO! I mean he has his uses but COME ON PEOPLE! (memajor webb basher in case you couldn't tell.)

Chapter 1: Here We Go...Again

2145 Local
Somewhere in France

"Remind me again why we're here."

"Yes, enlighten us. We're only JAG lawyers."

"Perhaps, but you both have the type of background training we'll need. You can fly an F-14 Tomcat, and you...well..."

"Well, what?!" She raises an eyebrow and stares at him.

"Attractive women are perfect distractions. It's just a helpful bonus that you can fire a gun without flinching." He seems a little exasperated.

"Hm." She crosses her arms and glares at him.

Harm waves a hand in the air as if to clear the air.

"We know all of that. But you still didn't really answer my question. You dragged us up here all the way to the French Alps for what, exactly?

"The Admiral is already disgruntled as it is. If you don't come up with a good excuse and call your C.O. ASAP with a good excuse and have him explain, it's gonna be your six on the line when all hell breaks loose, understand?"

"Yeah, whatever." He's nonchalant about the whole thing. "Hey, go put on these disguises." He throws each of them a bag.

"Oof..." They share a sideways look, rising from their seats.

"Oh, and FYI, there's one bathroom and thirty seconds to change. I suggest you get in there and hurry up. Ooh, don't forget the make-up kit. Heh..." Smirking, he turns and moves to the front of the van.

"Ugh, that slimeball." She shakes her head and sighs, glaring at the back of his head. "Come on, change clothes and I'll do your make-up."

They can barely move without touching each other after entering and closing the door.

"Jeez, could this room be any smaller?" His elbow hits her shoulder.

"Well, if you weren't six feet tall..." She accidentally kicks him in the shin.

"Oh like I can help that!" They both hit the walls with loud thumps as the van sways.

"Hand me that shirt, would you?"

"Here, hook this stupid thing up then, I can't get it."

"Smooth fumble-fingers." She smiles, but it fades slowly as she narrows her eyes slightly, pausing. She runs her fingers over his bare chest slowly, fingertips brushing lightly. "Wow...have you been working out?" She has her eyes on his chest, her hands lingering.

"Uh..." Harm pauses, looking down and watching her. "Yeah, a little. Does it show?"

"Not really..." she seems a little entranced. Harm sighs and raises a brow. Mac recovers, stammering after looking up at him. She glances up and then down again. "B-but I-I can feel it! You know, here..." She touches his abs with two fingers.

There is a silence as she looks up again and a gentle smile comes to Harm's lips. The van hits a huge rut and bounces like crazy, ruining the moment. With a simultaneous crash-bang-thud, the toilet seat snaps closed and Harm and Mac are tangled together. Harm has fallen backwards to lay on the toilet seat, his unzipped dress pants dropping slightly to reveal plaid boxers. Mac had tumbled over and ends up lying on top of him. The skirt she's wearing has been hitched up as her legs are spread, one on either side of him. A bra strap has slipped over her shoulder and her hair is in her face. Both half-dressed, their chests are pressed together. Harm sits up slowly, bringing Mac with him as they both breathe hard. He has a hand on her thigh, sliding upward under the fabric of the skirt, the other hand having fallen to the small of her back. She tucks a lock of her short brown hair behind her ear before returning the hand to his shoulder, the other's fingers gently rubbing the base of his neck. They are both looking down, cheek to cheek. She pulls back, but not away. Just enough so that their noses touched. Her eyes fluttered open to look at Harm.

"What the hell was that?" She could barely manage a low voiced-whisper.

"Felt like a crater. Pothole, I guess. You ok?" He opened his eyes and looked into hers, his lips still parted as his breathing slowed. Harm lifts his hand off her leg and flicks away a stubborn strand of her hair, resting his hand on the curve of her cheek. All she could do was nod, it seemed as if she was unable to breathe, just holding on to Harm. She licked her lips and left them apart as her breathing became heavy once more. Harm tilted his head to the side and his eyelids slid almost closed, Mac doing the same and leaning in.

"Are you two done yet? Your thirty seconds are up— " Webb opens the door without knocking, in the instant before they kiss. They both turn their heads towards the door, throwing daggers at him. Webb closes the door.

"Uh...you can have another minute..."

Harm growls and Mac clears her throat, and rises slightly, getting off of him. She couldn't help but blush lightly before reluctantly leaving his lap. Turning to the sink, she began to apply her make up.

"Yes, you look beautiful." Harm said, needing no question from her. He fixed her bra strap but not after running his fingers up her arm slow enough to give her goosebumps before sliding it back on her shoulder. She took in a breath quickly and softly, but Harm grinned as he heard it.

"Ah..thanks." She smiles and adds his moustache on his upper lip. "Now hurry up and put your clothes on before I jump on you again." She finished buttoning her shirt and brushing her hair.

"Wait..." He narrowed his eyes. "Jump...on? Ah..." He smiles, and nods his head knowingly. She grinned back and reached over him as he sat on the closed toilet seat pulling on his socks grabbing the new boots and bag, stuffing her original clothes inside.

"Hurry up slowpoke, I'm outta here." She exited before he could say anything more. Harm was left putting on a white tank to go under his dress shirt and suit jacket, smiling and shaking his head. Finished, he left the bathroom and bumped her arm playfully and acted blameless as he sat down next to her.

"Are you two lovebirds finished? God, I hope you aren't going to be like this the whole trip." Webb sighs. "Ok. Remember your identities, you've got your passports. Just speak no English and as little French as possible. I don't want anyone remembering an American accent."

"Qu'est-ce que le accent?" Mac asks, in fluid and trés rapidement francais. Smiling sweetly, she feigns innocence.

"Alright, you're an exception, sheesh." Webb throws up his hands just as they enter the city. "We're taking a three-day private train to the highest ski resort on the mountain. Luckily, it's closed for repairs, but the cabins are intact.

The driver leans back.

"Ou voulez-vous aller?"

Harm leans forward unexpectedly.

"Nous sommes aller a la gare, s'il vous plait?" He shrugs. "It's a little broken, but understandable." Harm offers a sheepish smile. Mac is just astounded.

"Well I'm impressed Rabb. You're not just a blob of legal jargon and muscle. There's actually a brain in there somewhere!" Smirking, he opens the door as the van comes to a stop.

"Nous sommes voici. Allons maintenant!"

They grabbed their bags and followed Webb's helper through a back entrance and "Employees-Only" areas, only to jump two tracks and climb on the back of a short five-car locomotive. There was a car for the crew, dining, passengers, and the caboose for luggage. The second to last car was filled, but in unmarked wooden crates and boxes. Webb wouldn't talk until they were well away from the station, and he was a man of few words even then.

"It's need to know, and if you do, I'll tell you. Right now, just go get settled in. You'll be sharing a room. It's late, so you should probably just stay there until tomorrow. Breakfast is at 9:00 AM." Without another word he retreats to his room.

Mac sighs.

"He was of no help at all, as usual. Let's go divvy up the room."

"Divvy up?" Harm follows her, dropping their bags inside the door and flopping on his back onto the bed, his feet hanging off the double mattress. After looking around the room, Mac sits on the edge of the bed. Reaching over, Harm pulls her backwards, and she ends up resting her head in his lap. Turning over on her side, she looks at him.

"Why are we always his little gophers?"

"Maybe we're better than his backstabbing friends." Harm chuckles. But the humor dwindles. "I don't know what we've gotten ourselves into this time, but let's be careful. I can't let anything happen to you.

Mac reaches out a hand and grasps his in her own, looking into his eyes.

"Ditto."