Title: Old Friends

Chapter Seven

By: LizD

Written: June/July 2004

Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.

Old Friends - Chapter Seven

All Gates - All The Time

1758 EST

Dr. Gates Madden's Office

CIA HQ

Gates had just finished with her last appointment. She and Mac had been playing phone tag all day. It was her turn to call back.

She tried Mac again. "Mac-KAY … what's up? Not breaking our date are you?"

Not a chance. But I am running late. Harm dumped a deposition in my lap.

"Harm? The man who gave up everything for you?"

Everything but his basketball game. Mac laughed.

"Oh Mac, please don't tell me he is a jock too boot."

Not much of one. But hey … it won't be that long, it's just that we got back late.

"How'd the doctor's appointment go?"

Fine … ya know … it is never good dealing with this kind of stuff.

"Harm went with you?"

He did.

"How was that?"

Good. I mean it was tough, but good. He is a good man, Gates. And he seems to be putting up with a lot of my moods lately – and that is more than I ever could have said.

"So when do I get to meet this man among men?"

Soon, not tonight, tonight is for us to catch up. We have eighteen years.

"All in one night?" Gates laughed.

She muffled the phone and said something to someone else. Hey, gotta run. I'll tell you all about it tonight. Can I meet you at McMurphy's? It is close to JAG. And we will go to dinner from there.

"Fine by me."

Around 1900?

"1900? Do I have to do the math myself?" Gates hated the military jargons. After growing up with two naval officer parents, and being married to a sub-sailor, she was done.

Probably closer to 19 - seven-thirteen.

"Oh get over your bad self and that precision timing thing … I'll see you there."

Do you know where it is?" Mac asked quickly before Gates hung up.

"I'll find it. BYEE." Gates dropped the phone in the cradle.

On her desk was the file for "Webb, Clayton." It was still sealed. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands deciding weather or not to break the seal to remind herself of who he was. Across it in big bold letters was D-E-C-E-A-S-E-D. Gates hated reading that on any agent's file even the ones she did not like. If they did live long enough to retire, they were mere shells of their former selves anyway. The CIA – blood suckers by any other name.

For all the deceased agents there were, there were twice as many – or more – family members missing them. Many of them were holding on to a sliver of hope that by some miracle or some ridiculous twist of fate their spy would come home – in from the cold, as they say. Where did they get those stupid ideas? Hollywood. Gates hated spy novels or spy movies. They were so unrealistic and she had read and seen them all – so she ought to know. Agents died all the time and no Tom Clancy, John Le Carre or soap opera-like amazing plot twist was going to bring them back from the dead. There was nothing romantic about being an agent. It was work, hard work – dangerous work – and it made those stupid enough to volunteer for the job do things that their mothers had spent their formidable years teaching them not to do. How does an agent live with himself? Enter Gates and the mandatory agency debrief.

"Why the hell do I put myself through this?" She asked aloud slipping the folder into a black bag.

Gates knew the answer; she was good at her job. She was good at helping people accept reality. Sadly she was also good at "patching" up their psyches and getting them back out there. Kind of like a medic on the front lines. For all her protestations about hating the agency, she loved the agents - each and every one of them – even the ones she did not like. It broke her heart to see them change over the years. There was only a handful that she saw from beginning to end. She tried not to get too close to any of them.

She knew Webb, not well, but she knew him. She remembered the first meeting she had had with him was after that Angel Shark incident. She had just been transferred to the Washington office. He was pretty close to her first case there. She remembered that she thought he could have been a good man but he wanted to be a cold-blooded agent. That's why she didn't like him. He wanted to be SuperSpy like his father and it wasn't in him. Clayton Webb couldn't accept who he really was. He could always be convinced to do the right thing, and he hated that about himself. It hadn't occurred to Gates until that very moment, but she believed that a navy commander was responsible for pushing Webb to give up the information in the Angel Shark case. She remembered in her session that he had commented that this navy commander had done it to him in the past; blamed the commander for the situation he was in. That navy commander must be Harmon Rabb. Interesting. Anyway, the Angel Shark fiasco was the beginning of the end for Webb, in more ways than two. It got him sent south and that was when the sand started slipped out from under his feet. He reached out for help and grabbed on to Sarah; nearly took her down with him. Now he was dead. Poor Webb.

Lying open on her desk was a file marked: "MacKenzie, Sarah, Colonel USMC." She quickly reread the face sheet she had prepared. Tucked it into the file. She pulled a stamp from her desk and marked it "EYES ONLY." She sealed it, slipped it into the bag and called for a runner. She didn't actually read Mac's CIA file, but she did read the after action report for Paraguay and the incident with Sadik. Gates was impressed that her old friend could survive two such encounters. She hated spying on her friends and would normally recuse herself, but something told her that this time Mac needed to have a friend on the inside. Mac was not just another agent – she was special and deserved to be treated that way.

The runner came and took the bag. Seconds later Kershaw walked into her office with it.

"Gates." He greeted her sternly trying to exert his authority.

"Kershy." She sat back. "Finally want to address that Oedipus complex of yours? Recurring nightmares? Still wearing women's underwear?"

He wasn't amused by Gates flippant attitude. Sadly he couldn't fire her; she got the job done. "Need to ask about MacKenzie."

"MacKenzie, Sarah. Colonel in the Marines. Lawyer. Don't know her SSN but I sure we have it some where."

Kershaw was clearly becoming annoyed. "Is she going to be any trouble?"

The hair on that back of her neck went up. "Trouble? … With a capital T?" She forced a smile. "Right here in River City?"

"Answer the question Gates."

She exhaled and tried to act disinterestedly annoyed, she was anything but. "In what way?"

"Look, MacKenzie has a reputation - as does her damn partner, Rabb."

"Rabb? Who is Rabb?" She flipped through some files on her desk pretending to look for Harm's file.

"Did you read the file? Come on Gates – do your job."

"Sorry, the little details like names and places are usually BLACKED out on the copies I get."

He rolled his eyes. Gates had higher security clearance than most; nothing was BLACKED out. "Rabb – Commander in the Navy – affected the rescue of Webb and MacKenzie in Paraguay."

"Oh right … Super-Rabb … now what about him?"

"They have a reputation of being …"

"Tenacious? Persistent? Pit Bulls with a bone?" She offered.

"Is MacKenzie going to accept what she was given or is she going to try to find out what happened with Webb?"

"Webb is dead." Gates stated watching Kershaw's eyes. Eyes – the windows to the soul and a damn fine way of finding out if someone is lying.

Kershaw looked away. In fact he turned his whole body away. "Are MacKenzie and Rabb going to look into it?"

So, Webb was not dead, Gates surmised. Or if he was, there was something that should not come out about it. "Can't speak to the Rabb question, but Mac – MacKenzie will let it go."

Kershaw looked back at her. "Are you sure?"

"As sure as you are that Webb is dead, I am sure that Colonel MacKenzie will not try to find out the details of his death."

Kershaw studied her for a moment. That was not the answer he was looking for. "Fine." He turned to walk out.

"Of course," Gates called after him. "What I do is not an exact science so don't quote me on it."

"Understood." He left.

Gates turned in her chair to look out the window. "Oh damn, Mac. What are you going to do now?"

0656 Local

McMurphy's Bar

Gates found the bar without any problem, even its alleyway entrance. Gates had always been good at finding bars, but that was in her youth – well, more youthful. She had given up drinking after her second husband, no third – the sailor, the sub-sailor. That man certainly knew how to make up for six months at sea – and not just in the drinking department. They drank together and fought; probably what ruined the marriage – the drinking not the fighting. But she quit long after the divorce when she realized how depressed she was. Hmm, alcohol was a depressant and she was depressed – cause? Or just exacerbating factor? Either way she quit.

"Cranberry and Soda, please." She asked the bartender.

The bartender was unsure if they had any cranberry in the house, but after searching the back he found a bottle.

Gates was trying to decide how she would talk to Mac about what she thought she knew. Strictly speaking she didn't KNOW anything. Practically speaking she was not authorized to give her impressions to Mac. It was against the rules. In the end, did Mac really need that kind of drama in her life – rather any more of that kind of drama? She was starting this new relationship that had enough troubles, but on the other hand … she was with Webb at the time of his death – supposed death – maybe she needed to finish with him before she could truly move on.

"Screw it." She muttered to herself. "No need to know."

"You said something?" The bartender asked.

"No, just talking to myself." She picked up her drink and moved to a table in the corner to wait for Mac.

Two men walked in – one tall and white and one not as tall and black. They were laughing and recounting some sporting event. Dressed casually in jeans, they looked like they had just gotten done playing and were fresh from the common shower – like a couple of teenagers – only moving more slowly. The tall one (very good looking even if he did know it) walked by her on his way to the jukebox. He made quick eye contact and offered her a safe friendly smile.

'Sparkling blue eyes.' Gates thought. 'I could get lost in them. Husband number four? Maybe?'

"Hey Rabb." The other man called over. "Beer? Or something stronger."

"Beer's good."

AH HA … So this was the infamous Harmon Rabb. Her interest in him shifted immediately. He was no longer her future ex-husband; he was a subject to be studied, like a wild animal in his natural habitat. What did Mac see in him? He did move well, in an I've-got-limbs-that-go-on-for-days kind of way. And yes he had great jeans – genes rather. He was a little too GQ meets GI for the old Mac, Gates thought. However, Mac had been in the marines for nearly fifteen years, tastes had to have changed. Gates couldn't really tell, but he didn't seem as shallow as most men with that kind of look usually were. He and the other guy appeared to be good friends. As soon as they were seated the discussion of the game was done, and they were on to something more serious. Gates moved so she could over hear.

"Nothing, Sturgis." Harm said. "Nothing is going on."

"Not buying it, Harm." He warned. "I haven't seen you look this happy in more than a year. Something is up."

"Mattie got an 'A' on her English test." Harm said by way of explanation – albeit weak. "But she won't know about her paper for a few days."

"You and Mac are getting along better." Sturgis offered ignoring the Mattie ploy. He wanted to tell him what he knew about Webb but he had to believe that they knew. The best course of action was to not talk about it.

"Are we?" Harm let his mind fill with the image of Mac in the bathtub on the phone to him. The smile could not be contained on is face. "I guess we are."

Harm was not prepared to bring Sturgis into the loop. It was still too soon. Everything was still up in the air and could fall apart at any second if the experience at the doctor's office that afternoon was any kind of ruler. Harm and Mac were not set in stone, and to share with anyone from JAG that they were trying to get together was premature at best and could ruin it at worse.

"Yes you are … I am going up against you two on the Markson Courts Martial and I am feeling a little out gunned."

"When Mac and I are on … you don't stand a chance." Harm said proudly.

"Well you certainly are ON in this case."

Harm turned his back to the bar and leaned back on it. He looked so pleased with himself. He noticed that Gates was still watching him. He gave her another wary smile and turned away.

"She's looking at you." Turner whispered.

"I can see that." He claimed. "Not interested."

"OH?"

"Let it go, Sturgis." Harm warned. His phone rang. He read the caller ID. "It's Mattie, only take a second. Excuse me. "

Turned looked over and smiled at Gates. She looked like she would be good for Harm: the right age, very attractive, his type – kind of flowy and blonde and organic – at least her clothes were made from natural fibers and she was clearly interested. Turned didn't know what was going on with Harm and Mac, but after all this time, he had to believe that nothing had changed – that nothing would ever change between them. This calm period was just the calm before the storm – the next storm. So Harm should move on and Mac needed time to get over this latest tragedy before she did the same.

"I'm going to check in with Varese." Turner said to Harm's other ear. He moved away to use the phone in private.

When Harm hung up he ordered another beer for both he and Turner.

"May I join you?" Came a request from behind him.

Harm turned to see that Gates was motioning toward the stool next to his.

"Sure." He stood – the good gentleman that he was and gestured to the bar tender to refill the lady's drink.

"Oh my – I don't think I have had a man stand for me in years."

Harm nodded and stuck out his hand. "Harm."

"Dr. G." She said taking his offered handshake.

"Doctor? A real doctor?"

"Or do I just play one on TV?" She finished his thought.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean –."

"Don't give it another thought. Most people assume I have a radio show with a handle like 'Dr. G.'"

"No, you're not in radio." He smiled warmly at her, probably implying that she was too pretty for radio.

"Thank you." Gates took the compliment and wondered if he was really flirting with her or if he was just being nice.

"So what kind of doctor are you?"

"No … no … No self disclosures." She added. "Let me tell you about you …"

He laughed. "Always wanted to know about me."

"You'd be surprised. I am pretty good at this."

"I am all ears."

"Not from where I am sitting." She teased.

'Uh Oh.' Harm thought. 'What have I gotten myself into?'

Gates surveyed him for a moment up and down. "By the look of you … I would say you are military … probably Navy … and since you are in Washington during wartime, I am going to say you are a lawyer."

"Very good." Harm nodded. "Batting a thousand."

"Should I go on?" she flirted.

"You are on a roll." He was in for the game but his suspicions were up. She had hit a little to close to the mark a little to effortlessly.

"You haven't always been a lawyer … you have a look about you that screams ACTION … hmm … let me think … Navy … action … well you got that Tom Cruise/Top Gun grin … but you are a little too tall … ah hell … gonna go with pilot anyway … fighter pilot of course."

"Right again." He nodded his approval. She had definitely gotten her intel from somewhere.

"Sometimes I can nail these things … it's a little spooky."

"Spooky huh?" Harm asked. "What kind of doctor are you?"

"You tell me." Gates taunted.

"Hmm … I'd say … you are a professor at Georgetown." He was throwing stuff out there; he knew he was wrong.

"In what area?"

"The paranormal – ESP – all that mystic spiritual stuff." He added, "You probably have a crystal ball on your desk."

"WOW … you are so cold I am getting frost bite over here." She laughed. "Except for the crystal ball, I need that in my work."

"Hmm … interesting."

"I will go on?" She asked.

He nodded to let her proceed.

"OK … pilot turned lawyer … I am sure there is a story there … probably something tragic, but I won't venture to guess. With that cocky attitude I am going to say that you are pretty good at what you do and you know it. In fact I bet you throw it in everyone's face."

"More truth in that statement then he would ever admit." Turner said from behind.

Gates and Harm both looked over at him. Harm did the introductions. "Sturgis Turner this is Doctor G."

Sturgis reached out his hand to her, "Oh like Kenny G."

She smiled. "Without the saxophone."

"It is a pleasure to meet you." Turner continued.

"The pleasure is all mine." Gates smile was infectious.

"So you are painting Harm's life story, I gather."

"I am making a few broad stokes." She clarified.

"She is doing better than that." Harm corrected.

"Well, don't let me stop you." Turner sat back.

"I'd say you two have been friends forever … so therefore there is more to you than arrogant pilot/lawyer."

"I'd like to think so." Harm said.

"Women." Gates stated and scrutinized him. "You've never been married … never been close to the altar. Commitment issues. You haven't found the right woman … no you have and just waiting for her to realize it."

How was that for a bull's-eye? Harm deflected, "Psychology – a behaviorist."

"Warmer – but I don't teach … not at a University anyway." She reached out and ran her finger down his arm.

Harm tensed at her touch and moved his arm away, pretending to need a drink from his beer. He looked at Sturgis for help who had no intention of helping bail him out of this.

Gates was having fun. She liked that he was squirming under her attention. She knew this was going to come back to bite her in the butt when he found out who she was, but until then she was able to get a better idea about him even though she was doing most of the talking. She also knew that Mac would have something to say to her. But this was all in fun, no harm done. He wasn't her type.

Gates' phone rang. She saw who it was and didn't bother to move away. "Lady M … 'course I found the place … sure, sure lady, take your time … just making some friends." She looked up at Harm and Sturgis. "… Yeah, they have possibilities … see you in a flash." She hung up. "How would you two like to join my friend and me for dinner tonight?"

Harm was intrigued – though he did not know why – about this friend. There was something about this Dr. G he just couldn't put his finger on it.

Sturgis finished his beer. "I would love to, but it will have to be another time."

"Oh, how sad." Gates said. "And I hadn't even started on you yet."

"My life is not as interesting as my man Rabb's is." Sturgis claimed.

"I wouldn't bet on that." She offered.

"Hey, buddy." Sturgis slapped him on the back. "Gotta go, Varese is waiting. Thanks for the game."

Harm nodded, his mind was still working on the Dr. G mystery.

Sturgis leaned in and whispered. "Go for it – it's time." He turned to Gates. "It was a pleasure to meet you Dr. G. Maybe we will run into each other again some time."

"You can count on that, Sturgis." Gates turned back to Harm. "So, Harm … will you join us for dinner?"

"I don't think that would be such a good idea." He said cryptically.

"Oh?"

"I usually like to know a little bit more about the people I have dinner with."

"How better to get to know someone than by breaking bread with them?"

"Tell me about your friend." He asked.

"Not much to tell really."

"Is she single?" He asked.

"She is beautiful."

"If she is a friend of yours, I don't doubt that." He said. "Are you two OLD FRIENDS, like Sturgis and I?"

"We share a past – my Lady and me."

"Your Lady?"

"A nick name we had when we were kids."

"So you have known each other for a long time."

"We have." She was giving nothing away – rather very little.

"You seem to know an awful lot about me." He turned his full investigator stare at her. "How is that?"

"Women know things."

He laughed. "While I don't doubt that … I think there is something a little more at work here than women's intuition."

"Why whatever could you mean?" She batted her eyes innocently. He was getting close to figuring out something.

"Your comments were a little too pointed … a little too 'right on' … you know who I am."

"Have we ever met before?" She defended.

"Not face to face." He studied her. "Nevertheless, you do know me … know about me anyway."

"How could I? Are you that famous, Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., that I would know things about you? Or are you just infamous?"

He grinned. She tipped her hand. Harm thought quickly: a doctor, G in her name, waiting for a friend at McMurphy's, who knew him. One plus one plus one plus one … simple.

"Maybe through a mutual friend." He offered.

"Two strangers in a bar with a mutual friend? Please -- what are the odds?"

"It's a small world, Doc."

"Not that small."

"OK, Dr. G … let me tell you about you."

"Please." She knew he figured it out. She liked him. He was smart and a good sport.

"You ARE a doctor … a real doctor … a head shrinker, I do believe … you work with the spooks … and your name is -."

"Are you going to say Rumpelstiltskin? She interrupted.

"Ha – no – you are -."

"Gates!" Mac's voice came from behind them.

Gates looked up and laughed at Mac. "Mac-KAY – right on time – as usual. Meet my new friend, Harmon Rabb, Jr."

Harm stood up immediately. His smile was for Gates but his eyes were on Mac.

"What is going on here?" Mac was clearly not expecting to see these two in a conversation.

"Just telling each other's life stories." Harm explained. "May I buy you a drink?"

"I thought you and Turner were playing basketball." She accused.

"Game finished early. You just missed him." Harm sat back down. "So this is your OLD friend Gates, huh?"

Gates smiled at him ignoring Mac for the moment. "Very well played Harm."

"What can you tell me about Mac here?" Harm reached over to wrap his arm around Mac.

She stepped out of reach. Mac was now worried and embarrassed. Gates had too much information about her; information that Mac was not proud of and had tried to overcome.

"Oh no." Gates eyes flashed. "You know all you need to know about My Lady Mac. Her secrets are safe with me."

"It appears – however – that mine are not safe with her." He turned a playful scold in Mac's direction.

"Harm can I talk to you for just a moment?" Mac asked. "Gates, we'll be right back." She gave her a look that said 'What did you say?'

Gates smiled and shrugged innocently.

Mac and Harm moved off to the other side of the bar. "What is going on here?" She demanded.

"You tell me … she approached me." He leaned away from her. "Just what have you said to her about me anyway?"

Mac shook her head. "I didn't -." She couldn't believe that Gates would break a confidence.

Harm took pity on her. "Don't worry, Mac. She didn't say anything bad."

Mac relaxed a little.

"So what have you told her about me?" He continued.

"Harm." She warned.

"She invited me to join you two for dinner."

Mac looked back over at Gates.

"But I already have a date with two women."

"Harm, I wanted you to meet her -."

"Just not like this … well I have to tell you MacKAY." He smiled. "She intrigues me."

"Oh?" Mac eyes turned a little green.

"She'll be good for you. She has got a playful side to her."

"Are you saying that I am not playful?"

"I am saying that I like her." He explained. "What little I know of her – I like her. But I won't stay and ruin your evening."

"I didn't say you would ruin my evening." She defended. "I just …"

"Wanted a little girl talk. It's OK." He pressed her hand. "I understand. Will you call me tonight when you get back?"

"Checking up on me?"

"I would just like to hear your voice before I go to sleep."

Oh, how sweet is that? Mac's heart softened.

"Can't begin to tell you what it did for my dreams last night." Harm pushed it. He gives and then he takes away.

She shook her head. She had a dream or two about him as well but would not admit it. "It might be late."

"Wake me up." He thread his fingers through hers, trying to keep this PDA on the down low.

"Can I just say," she whispered. "That you being sweet to me is going to take some getting used to?"

"Will it be a problem?" He turned completely to her so that he was the only thing she could see.

"I can handle it."

"Good." He waited through the electric moment. "You want to kiss me right now don't you?" He taunted.

"I am resisting the impulse." She challenged.

"But you want to."

"Yes."

"Good." He pulled his hand slowly away. "Have a good time tonight."

Harm stepped back over to Gates. "Dr. G. It was a pleasure to meet you."

"And to be met."

"We'll make dinner another night – with or without Lady M here." He smiled back at Mac. "Good night."

He grabbed his coat and ambled toward the door.

"Hey Rabb." Gates called after him. "Great jeans."

"GATES!" Mac scolded.

Harm loved the compliment and loved where it came from. He nodded his thanks and skated out of the bar quickly.

"Gates what in the world possessed you to talk to him?" Mac was trying to be appalled.

"Please, Mac. You tell me to meet you at a bar where you know he could be and show up late … you wanted us to meet. That was no Freudian slip, my dear."

"I won't own that."

"You need to, sweetheart."

Mac shook her head and looked back toward the door to be sure that he was gone. "So, what did you think?"

"He's cute." Gates said simply.

"That's it? He's cute. What are we like 8?"

"What do you want me to say? He is very attractive and can take a good prank."

"Prank?" Mac was confused.

"Oh Lady, I didn't introduce myself."

"You tried to pick him up?" Mac laughed at her old friend. "Was it working?"

"Honestly? Do you really want to know?" She warned. "Be careful what you wish for."

"You're kidding."

"Yes I'm kidding. The man is hopelessly in love with you."

"How do you know?"

"Cause he only has eyes for you."

Mac waved it off. "Let's get out of here before he changes his mind."

The two women left arm in arm.

2238 EST

Citronelle Dining Room at The Latham

Dinner dishes had been cleared away and the remains of the chocolate dessert and two cups of coffee were all that was left on the table.

The ladies had been catching up nonstop since they met up at the bar. The incident with Harm was all but forgotten – for the moment. They had covered Gates' three marriages, her son and her distinguished career with the CIA. She had been recruited right out of undergrad and had stayed on through her medical and psychiatric training. She had only transferred to Washington a year and a half ago. They had covered Mac's miserable marriage and later death of her husband. She told of her Uncle Matt's intervention and her sobriety. She covered – in limited detail – her relationship with Farrow, Dalton and Brumby and the role Harm played in each of those. They covered her rise in the marines and her career aspirations and how they have changed after recent events. This lead to the next obvious question:

"So about this baby you want to have." Gates was always direct. "Tell me about what is happening there."

"Oh Gates, I don't know. I worry that it won't happen." Mac was resigning herself to the possibility.

"Women with endometriosis have babies you know, it's not unheard of."

"I know. And I know that I shouldn't lose hope." Mac looked down. "But everything is so messed up right now."

"Do you need to make the decision now?"

"Waiting could ruin my chances." Mac said. "I am no spring chicken."

"Women have babies well into their forties these days, doll."

"I don't want to be that old when I have a baby." Mac whined.

"So what is the problem with now?"

"It's Harm – rather me and Harm." She waited for Gates to acknowledge her comment. She didn't so Mac repeated. "We are the problem."

Gates was unimpressed. "What's the problem?"

"Up until a week ago, I would have said that Harm and I never would have been able to make a life together – hell, a year ago I said – TO HIM – that there would never be an US and now I am thinking about having a baby with him… "

"Did you believe it when you said it?" Gates asked.

"I believed it just before the words came out of my mouth."

"And afterward?"

Mac looked down. "He didn't argue with me."

"Did you want him to argue with you?"

"Maybe, I don't know. Maybe I said it because I wanted it to be true."

"Or maybe it is true." She offered. "The truth comes out in mysterious ways."

Mac looked as if she had been sucker punched.

Gates leaned back and changed her tactic. "Why did you want it to be true, honey?"

"We fight. We both want to be in control. Neither one of us will let the other …" She lost the word.

"Win?"

"Yeah … like it is some stupid game." Mac shook her head. "And we work together. How is that going to continue? He just got his job back – if we got together they would have to reassign one of us and I don't want a long distance relationship – not if we are going to try to have a baby. And he's got Mattie and --. We were better at being friends - before." Mac was thinking before Paraguay.

"So dump him." Gates said matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"So don't have a baby with him … have one with some one else – or by yourself."

"You want me to what?"

"Well, clearly the relationship is doomed." Gates shrugged. "You know it and Rabb probably knows it … just end it now and find someone else."

"I can't believe you are saying this to me."

"What? It's pretty simple." She took a sip from her coffee. "People don't change, honey. Something kept you apart for all this time. Doesn't matter if it is you or him – or the two of you."

"But something also kept us together." Mac argued.

"Of course you have been tied together." She stated as if it were obvious. "You haven't slept with the man."

"Gates." She looked around hoping that no one over heard her.

"For Christ's sake Mac. The man is hot … what you two have is chemistry." She smiled. "I say fuck 'em and dump 'em."

"Gates."

"Get it out of your system … Hell you should have years ago and this would never be an issue."

Mac was stunned that her friend would be so outrageous.

"Have you changed?" Gates prodded. "Since you and Harm met, have you changed?"

"Yeah … a lot." Mac wanted to prove Gates wrong. "In just this last year alone."

"How?" Gates was unconvinced.

Mac seemed unsure of her answer. "I don't know exactly … things that were important to me before aren't as important."

"Like winning the battle of wills with Harm?"

"Yeah, maybe." She had changed in more ways than just that and so had he.

"And maybe not. Maybe you just wore each other out." She continued. "Maybe when the dust settles things will go back to the way they were – you two fighting for the top."

Mac shook her head. "Why are you doing this?"

"What am I doing?" Gate put up her hands. "I am just telling you what you already know."

"I don't know it … and you don't know it." Mac challenged. "No one knows what will happen between me and Harm because we have never tried."

"So?" Gates felt triumphant.

"So what?"

"So TRY and shut the hell up about it."

"Gates."

"Look baby, if you continue to sit on the fence and think of all the BAD STUFF that could happen, you will never move off. So try … DO … DO SOMETHING. You have been putting your life on hold, going with men that you don't stand a chance of making a life with."

"Hey." Mac yelled back.

"You had no future with anyone of them --- a drunk, an aussie and a spy? Are you nuts? You were making that same old CHRIS mistake over and over again." She leaned forward. "You will go with anyone WHO ASKES to save you and get you out of the HELL that you call your life."

"What about Harm? Wouldn't I be making the same making with him that I did with Chris, Mic, … Webb?"

"Maybe, I don't know." She answered honestly. "What is different about Harm?"

Mac couldn't answer that.

"Do I have to tell you?" Gates asked. "Do I really have to tell you? You mean you really DON'T KNOW?"

"Whose side are you on, Gates?"

"Whose side are you on?" Gates asked pointedly.

"I beg your pardon." Mac was indignant.

"Baby, you are constantly shooting yourself in the foot. I'm surprised you can stand much less walk."

Mac threw herself back in the chair. Gates was right.

"What's different about Harm?" Gates asked again.

Mac thought for a long moment. "He is not trying to save me." Mac said softly.

"Oh really … the Hero Rabb … the man that quit his job, spent all his money, and risked his life to find you and save you …"

"A different kind of saving … he is not promising to make my life better … easier … happier … he just wants to share my life with me."

"Is that really different?" Gates asked. She knew the answer, but Mac needed to KNOW it.

"Yes … he doesn't want to fix it." Mac laughed. She would never have believed she could say that about Harm. "I don't want him to fix it … I don't want or expect our life to be perfect, happy, or storybook."

"Does he?"

"I don't think so … no … he knows it will be an up hill battle and he still wants to do it."

"And?"

"And I want to try – with him … I just don't want to bite off more than we can chew."

"Do you have to?"

"No." Mac said tentatively.

"So there is no need to rush it?"

Mac looked up at Gates and smiled. "No, there is no need to rush it."

"So there you go."

Mac nodded. She finally felt better – more hopeful – than she had in a long time. "I am glad you are back in my life."

"Me too."

"I think." Mac smiled. She felt like she had been put through a ringer, but it was good to have someone to hold the mirror up and point out all the flaws in her 'logic.'

2349 EST – MacKenzie Room

The Latham

Mac climbed under the big down quilt. All the lights were out in the room, except the light beside the bed and it was down low. She picked up the phone and dialed.

"Harm? Did I wake you? … I did wake you, I'm sorry. … It was very nice. It was good to catch up." She leaned back into her pillows and pictured herself in his arms. "Gates is fun. … I did not set that meeting up." She laughed. "No, I didn't. How was dinner with Jennifer and Mattie? … Of course I knew. How many sets of women do you have dinner with? … Are you trying to make me jealous? … Of course you could. … Hey, how about I cook you dinner tomorrow night … no, just the two of us … at my apartment … Yeah, I am checking out in the morning. … Yes, it's very good. … I can to cook. …" She laughed as several things he was saying. "… You need to go back to sleep, you are saying silly stuff. … No that is not silly." She got a little serious. "I do too. Good night, Harm. I'll see you in the morning. … Night." She hung up slowly.

Nope, there was no need to rush it.