ABOUT THE SAME TIME
I-95 SOUTH
NEAR RICHMOND, VIRGINIA

"Why don't you try to get some sleep, Chloe?" Kyle suggested, making a display of glancing at his watch, even if he couldn't really make out the time in the darkness. "It's getting late." He turned around from his position in the front passenger seat to look at her, worry in his eyes. He knew that she practically worshipped Harmon Rabb and he hated what this situation was doing to her. But he also knew there was no way to make it easier to bear. He'd learned that lesson all too well in the weeks and months after so many of his shipmates had died on the Stark. Even fourteen years later, he could still sometimes hear their screams when he closed his eyes. Sometimes, he would roll over in bed when he was home, expecting to find his wife lying next to him.

"I can't sleep, Daddy," she whispered, her voice trembling as her fingers worried the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing, a Baltimore Orioles shirt that Harm had sent her for her birthday, along with the tickets to the game they were to have been attending tomorrow.

Kyle thought about moving to the back and sitting with her. She could act so grown up, but right now, he was reminded that she was still very much a little girl – a very scared little girl. There had been so much of her life that he'd missed out on and he only wanted to be there for her now. "Chloe …." he began, trying to strike a note of reassurance with his tone.

"I close my eyes, but I still can't stop thinking …." She trailed off, glancing at little AJ, secured in his car seat in the seat in front of her, looking so peaceful in sleep, despite being on the road at a time when he normally would have already been in bed. She really envied him his peaceful refuge. Reaching over the back of the seat, she stroked his soft cheek with the backs of her fingers.

Harriet, who had given up the front seat to Kyle – Bud was driving - so she could sit in the back with the kids in case AJ got fussy being out so late, gave Chloe a stern, motherly glance. "Chloe," she said firmly, "seat belt."

Chloe opened her mouth to protest that she was so far in the back that she didn't think a seat belt really mattered when her father caught her eye and nodded. Grumbling to herself, she fastened the seatbelt, maneuvering so that the shoulder strap was behind her so she could sit sideways, stretching her legs out on the bench seat. Seeing that Kyle and Harriet were pretty much satisfied, she returned to her previous topic before her father had decided it was bedtime. "What else did the Admiral say?" she demanded. "I thought Harm was going to be okay. The Admiral didn't act like he was in that much danger this morning. He's not going to die, is he?" Her final words came out in such a rush that all the adults could make out was the word 'die'.

Harriet and Kyle exchanged glances. So much for getting her to go to sleep or to change the subject. "He didn't really say a lot," Harriet said carefully, as she'd had the misfortune of once again answering the phone when A.J. called with the bad news. "Pretty much all he told me is that Harm took a turn for the worse and is being flown to Portsmouth tonight for surgery." That much was true. It had been more what he'd not said that had frightened her. He'd used what she'd once read astronauts' wives called 'The Tone'. Generally, it conveyed the message, without saying the words, that the situation was going to hell in a handcart. Just hearing his voice had scared the hell out of her more than his words ever could, even more so than they had last night, when he'd called to first inform them of the accident.

Last night, they hadn't known one way or the other, so it was easier to delude themselves into believe that everything would be okay. But now …. Harriet almost wished that she didn't know just how dire the situation was. There was something to be said for blissful ignorance – at least until reality came crashing down on you, as it had for her and Bud months earlier. This wasn't the quite the same, but the pain in her heart hurt just as much. She'd often wished for a sibling. That wasn't meant to be, but in her heart, Harm and Mac were as close to her as any brother or sister her parents might have given her.

"But that's bad, right?" Chloe persisted, interrupting her thoughts. "He wasn't supposed to be transferred to the hospital until tomorrow, so if something happened that made them transfer him tonight, it must be bad."

"Maybe something came up that is beyond the capabilities of the carrier's sickbay to handle," Bud suggested, exchanging a glance with Kyle, who nodded approvingly at the evasion, as both were well aware that a carrier sickbay was equipment to handle just about anything, including many surgical procedures, and that Harm's condition must be grave for him to be transferred immediately. But if they could spare Chloe that knowledge, at least for a little while, what was a little white lie in the grand scheme of things? After all, everything could still turn out fine and she need never know just how close it really was.

"Right," Kyle agreed, mentally crossing his fingers. "With all the cutbacks in the Navy, nothing is as fully staffed as it used to be, including sickbay on board a carrier. Anyway, from what you've told me, Commander Rabb is a fighter. I'm sure he'll be fine."

Bud and Harriet quickly uttered their agreement while Chloe studied the three of them with apprehensive eyes, trying to figure out if they were telling her the truth. As much as she used to lie herself, she thought she could spot one coming a mile off, but it was so hard to tell in the dim light. As long as she couldn't see the truth in their eyes, maybe she could just pretend for a while longer that everything was going to be okay.

"Hey, I remember that Mac once told me," Chloe said, trying to muster enthusiasm for the idea that Harm would be okay, "that during his first crash, Harm ejected over the deck of the carrier. That's got to be much worse than ejecting into the ocean, right? I mean, wouldn't it really hurt to hit the deck like that?"

"You're probably right," Harriet agreed, hoping she sounded convincing. Sometimes, for all that she'd been through, Chloe could be such an innocent. Or maybe it was just an act, like so many other things in the young girl's life. Either way, Harriet didn't want to be the one to shatter her illusions. Her eyes met Kyle's and he nodded his agreement at her approach. "Harm's never talked much about his first crash, but scuttlebutt says he was on medical leave for several months afterwards. But to look at him now, you'd never know any of that."

"Right," Chloe said, trying to sound convinced. "He's got two of those – what did Mac call them – Distinguished Flying Crosses. So he's really strong and brave and that's good, right? And he's got Mac with him -" She stopped abruptly as she suddenly realized what she was saying.

"Oh, God," she exclaimed. "Mac is with him. Why is this happening to them now? This was supposed to finally be their time. They were going to talk to Mic and Renee and then everything was going to work out …."

Kyle gave Harriet a surprised glance and she realized that Chloe hadn't told her father what was going on. Of course, she'd spent the day at Bud and Harriet's and hadn't talked to her father since they left JAG except for a brief call mid-afternoon to see how she was holding up. More and more, the truth was coming out and Harriet suddenly realized that there was the very real possibility that everything could blow up in Portsmouth when Mic showed up, expecting to finally be able to comfort his fiancée only to find out that she wasn't his anymore or when Renee arrived, expecting to take her place at Harm's bedside. Not only that, but it appeared everyone else would find out before Mic and Renee did. 'Later,' she mouthed to Kyle. He nodded his understanding and turned his attention back to his worried daughter.

Harriet struggled to think of something to say. Everything had gotten so much more complicated and, although everything else seemed to pale in the face of Harm's precarious condition, she didn't think Mic would appreciate that. His first concern was likely to be the woman he thought he was supposed to be marrying. Renee obviously wasn't going to appreciate another woman hovering over the man she still thought was her boyfriend.

She realized that Chloe was saying her name. "I'm sorry, Chloe," she said, attempting a smile. "My mind was just wandering."

Chloe leaned forward as far as she could. "Are you thinking what I am?" she asked softly. "Mic's probably on his way to Portsmouth, expecting Mac to be there. What's he going to do when he realizes that Mac only wants to be with Harm? It's not like she's going to even think about giving him the time of day under these circumstances."

"There's not a lot Mic can do," Harriet pointed out, trying to sound optimistic. "Ideally, he and Mac should have been able to sit down and talk about this and I imagine they will eventually, once Harm is out of danger. I know Mic and Renee aren't going to like that answer, but want they want is really secondary right now."

"But are they going to understand that?" Chloe countered. "You heard Mac last night, talking about how Mic steamrollered her into accepting his proposal. She was emotionally vulnerable because she thought Harm was going to Chechnya. What's he going to do to her now that she's facing this?"

'Emotionally vulnerable'? Sometimes Chloe surprised her, sounding so grown-up and mature. Then again, Harriet thought, maybe it was a mask covering up the little girl scared for a dear friend. God knew it was easier for Harriet to concentrate on trying to comfort Chloe than to be left alone with her own thoughts and fears.

"Essentially, Mic is a decent person," Harriet tried to assure her. "He …."

"Yeah, so decent that he was more worried about the status of the wedding than about Harm," Chloe remarked snidely. "I wonder if he cared whether Harm lived or died outside of how it affected him and his plans."

"Chloe, that's a horrible thing to say," Harriet admonished her, her voice rising enough that Bud and Kyle both glanced back at her, startled. Bud quickly diverted his eyes back to the road while Kyle gave Harriet a questioning glance. She shook her head, indicating it wasn't necessary for him to intervene. He nodded acceptance and settled back into his seat, keeping watch on them out of the corner of his eye.

"Come on, Harriet," she shot back. "If Mac had been with all of us last night and today, I wouldn't be surprised if Mic had been pressing her to go through with the wedding, regardless. I can almost hear him spouting some crap about Harm not wanting her to put her life on hold or about letting Renee worry about Harm while Mac concentrated on the wedding and …. him." Chloe nearly spit out the last word, growing frustrated about Mic Brumby upsetting the happy life that Harm and Mac were destined to have.

As much as she wanted to protest, Harriet wondered if there wasn't something to what Chloe was saying. Mic had been very reluctant to start calling around to cancel the wedding arrangements. Was Chloe right? Would he have been pushing to go ahead with the wedding if Mac had been with them at JAG? He didn't seem to understand why Mac was so upset that her best friend – as far as Mic knew, that's all he was to her – was missing and might have been dead for all they knew. The only thing that had seemed to matter to him was that Mac was not with him.

i But he was so nice to Renee /i , a voice inside her head countered. i Maybe he just wanted to be there to comfort Mac. Isn't that what any man should want to do for the woman he loves/i

i Yeah, but shouldn't what Mac wants be just as important/i another voice countered. Suddenly, she remembered an incident several months past, the import of which had escaped her at the time. After Sarah's funeral, A.J. had organized a get together at his house, a chance for everyone to be together and to grieve. Although it had been hard to recognize the fact at the time, she knew that Harm and Mac had looked forward to having a goddaughter to spoil and after herself and Bud, Sarah's death had probably hit them the hardest. Harm and Mac had been off in a corner talking while Mic offered words of comfort to her and Bud. Abruptly, Mic had turned away from them and headed towards Harm and Mac. She'd barely thought about it at the time, living in a haze ….

…. But with the distance of time, she was able to look back upon that day and remember more than the mind-numbing grief of having buried the child she'd just spent nine months carrying inside her body. Mac had been brushing away tears and after helping her wipe them away, Harm had pulled her into a hug. Now, she realized that Mic had headed over to them just as Harm had taken Mac in his arms. They'd pulled apart as soon as they'd noticed his approach and Mic had draped an arm around Mac, pulling her to his side. It was as if …. he was marking his territory, subtly declaring 'She is mine and I'll be the one to take care of her'.

As Mic had escorted Mac away from Harm, Harriet remembered catching a snippet of their conversation. i We were supposed to be her godparents /i , Mac had said, keeping her voice deliberately low so as not to draw attention. i Why shouldn't we comfort each other/i Mic's reply had been lost to Harriet as they moved past her, but she remembered that he did not look pleased that someone else was usurping what he perceived as his place as Mac's comforter.

Would Mic make a scene at the hospital? She suddenly wasn't so sure, now that she thought about it. Mac and Mic had argued publicly before. Bud had told her about their argument in the office over a case Mic had suddenly showed up in the office to work on. Something about an F-14 crash, she seemed to recall. Mic's firm had represented some civilian contractors involved in the case. Then there was their shouting match after Mac's televised trial and that People article. And she'd been back at work and had seen for herself when Mic had been ambushed with the news that Mic had started his own law firm. She'd seen, but she'd thought nothing of it. There was so much wrong that seemed so obvious now.

i Why didn't any of us see this before/i she wondered. She'd been Mac's matron of honor. How could she have not seen the cracks in the foundation? Well, she hadn't been around for the first two incidents. Bud had told her about both of those. The third – she'd been there, but for some reason, she'd been more concerned about finding a place to hold the engagement party rather than noticing that her best friend may have been on the verge of making a major mistake. Harm and Mac had seemed to notice so much about her and Bud's relationship. What kind of friends were they that they could not say the same in reverse?

"You're not sure, are you?" Chloe asked, startling her out of her reverie.

"Not sure about what?" she asked, shaking her head.

"You're not sure that Mic will back off," she said with an air of certainty. "Even if he knows that Mac wants to be with Harm, he may not back off."

Harriet wished she could say that Chloe was reading too much into this, but she was afraid that Chloe might be right.

-----

I-64 EAST
SOUTHEAST OF RICHMOND, VIRGINIA

Trish started to speak, but hesitated. "Somehow," A.J. remarked, noticing her pause. "I would have thought Harm Rabb's mother would not have a problem speaking her mind."

"I'm just not sure I'll get any answers to the questions I have, Adm - A.J.," she admitted. Under other circumstances, she might have laughed at the statement. Frank had always contended that although Harm looked like his father, he had to have gotten his forthrightness from her … along with her stubbornness. Her mother-in-law had concurred, insisting that Trish had developed the stubbornness to deal with the arrogant fighter jock she'd married. "You are their commanding officer …."

Normally, A.J. would agree with her. As a CO, he was theoretically supposed to hold himself aloof from those he led, to not get too close. But many of the officers under his command had become like a family to him, especially after the way they'd keep investigating until they found out that Gayle Osborne was after him. That had been the beginning. In many ways, he was closer to them than he was to his own daughter.

"Ask," he said, a bit reluctantly. "I won't promise to answer everything, but I'll tell you what I can."

Trish hesitated again, searching for the correct phrasing. She was still conscious of the Navy's rank structure, even forty years removed from being the new wife of an ensign. Maybe it came from being a corporate wife, working to portray the right image for Frank's bosses, or from trying to schmooze investors for her gallery. Even in the civilian world, there was a hierarchy to everything. "I'm not sure where to begin," she admitted. "How do you condense nearly five years of …. missed chances and lost opportunities …. into a few sentences? I mean, I know there's so much that I don't know. For all his outspokenness, Harm can be so close-mouthed when it comes to certain things. He never even mentioned to us that his best friend was getting married."

"The boy was in denial," Sarah said firmly.

"I have seen evidence that would support that contention," A.J. said. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. If he said the right things, not much, but just enough, they would probably be able to connect the dots on their own. The apple didn't fall far from the tree and he could see so much of what had made Harm the man he was in his mother and grandmother, even in his stepfather.

"Okay, so he's in denial, Mom," Trish chided her gently. "I figured that out about two seconds after Renee introduced us to Mac's fiancé. And I can imagine why he wouldn't say anything, knowing my son. If he thought Mac wanted someone else, he would not interfere, even if it made them both miserable in the end."

"So now the question becomes," Frank interjected, "how did we go from Harm being in denial and Mac about to marry another man to her being out on a carrier in the middle of Atlantic with him the day she was supposed to marry this other man?"

A.J. could feel everyone's eyes on him, but he shook his head. "That one you'd have to ask Harm or Mac, I suppose," he said. "All I know – and this is through secondhand information – is that Mac had decided last night to call off the wedding, but had not been able to get a hold of Mic before everything happened with Harm."

Trish's eyes narrowed. "Do you know if Harm was aware that she was calling off the wedding?" she asked.

A.J. thought back to his conversation with Harriet when he'd found out about the cancelled wedding. She'd indicated that Mac had talked to someone, but no names had been mentioned. Had she talked to Harm? Had he been returning home knowing that he was going to have a chance with Mac? Or had Harriet been simply referring to herself? After all, since Harriet knew that the wedding had been cancelled, it could be assumed that she and Mac had talked about it.

"I don't know," he admitted. "The person who told me the wedding was off did not mention whether Harm knew or not." Realizing what they all must be thinking, he hastened to add, "I cannot imagine any of this getting in the way of Harm's flying. As you pointed out, Trish, if he thought it was what Mac wanted, he would not interfere and he probably would go out of his way to make sure it didn't interfere with his life. If he had regrets, he would be the only one who knew."

Trish sighed. He was right. A.J. probably knew her son as well as anyone ever did. "I know," she said. "He could be fatalistic that way. For a man so used to going after what he wants, that was one area …. Look, I'm trying not to think that this situation with Mac might have contributed to the crash, either directly or indirectly, but I'm worried about my son. If I have these questions, I would think that the people who end up investigating the crash would end up connecting the dots and start asking the same thing."

Those very thoughts had been in the back of A.J.'s mind all day and throughout the previous night. As of right now, all A.J. knew was that the inquiry wouldn't be handled by his office. That was a foregone conclusion. The thing he wasn't sure of was how Harm and Mac's relationship would play into it. It all depended on Mic and Renee and their reactions to the situation. If they wanted to, they could almost literally make life hell for Harm and Mac. He wasn't sure about Renee – he didn't really know her well enough to say what she might do. But after seeing how Mic had reacted to Mac's absence, he could not say with absolute certainty that Mic would take the high road.

"Obviously," he said, "outside investigators will be brought in on this. It will be better for Harm to avoid questions of a whitewash investigation from the beginning. Not that any of my officers would do any less than their duty, but none of them will be asked to investigate one of their own. But Harm will not be alone in this. Mac will likely be too close to the situation because of everything, but there are others in our office that would do anything to represent Harm's interests."

"Including you, A.J.?" Sarah asked.

A.J. sensed there was a subtext to the question, but wasn't quite sure what it was. After a moment, he replied with conviction, "I will be the first in line to help him."

"I'm glad to hear you say that," Sarah said. "I got the feeling from Harm that he felt he'd disappointed you when he returned to flying."

If he hadn't been driving, A.J. would have turned around to face her. Sarah's question now made sense. He carefully considered his reply – he honestly had tried not to think about this since Harm had returned to JAG, considering the subject moot – then said, "I understood why he wanted to leave. I've changed careers twice in the Navy, going from the Teams to Surface Warfare and then to law school and JAG. Both times, it was my choice. But leaving an active squadron wasn't Harm's choice and I could understand why he might have felt he had unfinished business."

"But understanding and accepting are two different things," Trish said in a knowing tone.

"I would have given anything to have an office full of lawyers with as much drive and determination as your son," he said evasively. "He always gave 110 percent on all of his cases. But he was ready to throw it all away on something nearly everyone agreed would be career suicide. He disappointed a lot of people when he returned to flying."

"Like Mac?" Trish asked.

"I assume she was upset," A.J. replied, "but she never talked about it. She simply threw herself into her work and …." He trailed off, feeling himself on that slippery slope, in danger of getting too personal.

"This wouldn't have been around the time that her relationship with Mr. Brumby began, would it?" Trish asked.

"I don't know when the relationship began," he answered honestly, his resolve to say as little as possible weakening. He liked Harm's family and if he could do anything for them, even answer questions that he wasn't entirely comfortable with, he would do it. "But they did become closer friends while Harm was gone."

"Makes you wonder, doesn't it," Trish mused. "Choices have consequences and you have to wonder where we all would be tonight if Harm had made a different choice. Would all this have happened if Harm hadn't returned to flying?"

"Trish, I don't think anyone can answer that question," Frank said gently, reaching over and clasping her hand in his. "Even Harm himself probably couldn't. These quals occur on a regular basis, right?" A.J. nodded. "It was time for his quals, even if Mac was getting married, not getting married or whatever."

"Do you remember when Harm first called and told us he was reporting to Norfolk as part of an active squadron?" Trish asked him, brushing a tear from her cheek. Frank nodded, tightening his fingers around hers. "I don't think I slept for at least a week. Like you, A.J., I thought he was hurting his career and I'd never seen any indication from him that he was anything but happy at JAG. But then I'd remember what happened to my husband and I was scared. It had almost happened once before, but thank God Harm survived. But what if it happened again? And now it has …. Frank, I don't want the only thing I have left of my son to be a folded flag and a plot in Arlington."

Trying not to listen as Frank murmured words of comfort to his wife, A.J. thought back over the last two years. Frank was right in that Harm's quals occurred every six months like clockwork, but were there other contributing factors to this? A.J. didn't want to believe it. He remembered the brief ceremony when he'd presented Harm with his second DFC. Harm had not wanted a ceremony and A.J. had wondered if he'd been overcompensating, trying to convince everyone that he wanted to be back at JAG. Oh, A.J. knew Harm's work had been as good as it ever was, but …. it seemed as if his passion was somewhat lacking.

He considered a conversation he'd had earlier that afternoon with Captain Ingles when Harm's family has ostensibly been getting some sleep. Except for a wave off on his first landing attempt, he'd performed flawlessly. A.J. couldn't help but wonder if he was overcompensating again, throwing himself into his quals in an attempt to not have to deal with any pain he might be feeling. The day he'd left for Norfolk, A.J. had walked past Harm's office and had seen the younger man buried in paperwork, signing off on reports and compiling documents with an efficiency A.J. had seldom seen out of him, at least when it came to the more mundane tasks associated with his duties.

Suddenly, he caught a question from Trish which drew him back to the present and the conversation that had continued around him. "Frank, what do you think he would have done?" she wondered, her eyes gazing upward. "If Harm had known two years ago what he knows now, if he could have foreseen all that returning to an active squadron would end up costing him, do you think he would have still done it?"

Pondering the question, A.J. found he couldn't come up with an answer. He loved flying and all indications were that he loved Sarah Mackenzie. If he'd known what would happen, would he have made a different choice? A.J. shook his head, hoping that everything would work out for the two people who were closer to him than just about anyone. They both deserved it.

-----

SOMEWHERE OVER THE ATLANTIC OCEAN
EN ROUTE TO PORTSMOUTH, VIRGINIA

Every time the helo shook – the atmosphere was still a bit unstable from the earlier storms, so it was a fairly regular occurrence – Mac couldn't help but glance fearfully at the equipment monitoring Harm's condition. The steady rise and fall of his chest was no reassurance, the ventilator pushing air in and out of his lungs. She found she couldn't concentrate on figuring out what all the numbers and blips and beeps meant, but they were pretty much the same as every other time she'd looked at them, so she kept telling herself that was a good sign. He didn't appear to be getting any worse.

A corpsman was studying the monitors with a critical eye, jotting notes in the chart which he then handed to Reed. Reed glanced over the chart and nodded, handing it back to the corpsman. His eyes met Mac's and he gave her a half-smile. "He's holding his own," he reported. "His vitals are holding steady. We're keeping his blood pressure depressed in an effort to keep the bleeding under control until he can be taken into surgery. And even though his breathing did restart on its own after the seizure, keeping him on the ventilator will ensure an uninterrupted oxygen supply."

"In case of another seizure?" she asked, her eyes steady on his.

He felt slightly uncomfortable under the scrutiny, as if she was trying to read his mind. Maybe it came from her being a lawyer. "That is a possibility," he said, careful to keep his tone level and worry-free. "But we've kept him on Valium since the episode to prevent that very thing."

She nodded, accepting his assurances for the time being. Leaning over Harm, propped against the bulkhead, she covered one of her hands with his. "This is different, Sailor," she said softly, trying to keep her voice light. "You're usually the one looking out for me … the mountains, when Coster was stalking me, on the Watertown. I know I was there for you in Russia, but sometimes I couldn't help but wonder if you really needed me. You've never been one to admit that you need anyone, have you? I can't decide if I love that strength or despise that there's always a part of yourself you keep closed off from everyone."

She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair, her gaze falling on the bruise over his left eye, her thoughts automatically going to the larger bruise on the back of his head. "I thought your helmet was supposed to prevent something like this," she murmured.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Reed go very still and she lifted her gaze to his. "Doctor, how did this happen?" she asked. "How did he manage to sustain two separate blows to the head when he was wearing a helmet?"

Reed looked down at the chart in his hands, wishing that he didn't have to be the one to tell her. He'd just assumed that someone had already told her the conditions under which Harm had been found. "Doctor?" she repeated, realizing that he wasn't telling her something.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily. "The Coast Guard crew that found him reported that he wasn't wearing his helmet," he explained. "We're not sure why. Obviously, no one has had a chance to question Commander Rabb about what happened. My understanding from the Captain is that if he was up to it, a preliminary interview would have been conducted by the on board JAG this evening."

"I don't understand," she said, almost to herself, her eyes falling on Harm's still form again. "He's been an aviator for fifteen years. He's even ejected before. He should know survival procedures like the back of his hand. Even I know that much." It was something Harm had drilled into her before their first ride together in a Tomcat during that case at Fallon and something he'd reviewed with her on the drive to the airfield in Russia, when everything Harm had told her ended up coming into play when they'd been shot down.

Reed shook his head. "I wish I had an answer for you, Colonel," he said. "But right now, my primary concern is making sure that he survives since we can't go back and undo what's happened."

"Of course, you're right," she said in resignation. There would be plenty of time later for questions to be answered. Dr. Reed had just reminded her of something which had completely slipped her mind. There would be an inquiry. Harm had faced one before and he would come out of this one as well. This time, he would have her at his side, standing up for him.

A few feet away, Gilly looked up from his Bible where he'd been studying the readings for next week's service, contemplating what he should say, if anything. After the tension over the Anointing, he still wasn't sure where he stood with her, although he realized it really had less to do with him than with Harm's condition.

As a Marine, he imagined that she was used to taking action, to always advancing. Sitting around, waiting on others was probably anathema to her. Finally, he closed his Bible. Sitting around silently wasn't in his nature. "Colonel …. Sarah?" he asked, hoping to put her at ease with the more familiar form of address.

She looked up, blinking. "Yes, Father?" she responded, her voice neutral.

"I have a degree in psychology," he said, earning a puzzled look from her at the apparent non-sequitor, "So after I was ordained, the first place the Navy assigned me was to a VA hospital in San Diego. I thought I had all the answers. I was young with a masters in psychology and a priest's collar. But I saw things at that hospital …. mostly Vietnam vets. Some of them I don't think ever really recovered from the war."

She started to speak, but he held up his hand to stop her, then continued, "I didn't know how to help these people, so I spent a lot of time when I first got there simply observing. Quickly, I realized something. The ones who did the best are those who had someone there, whether talking to them or just holding their hand. Sometimes it was their spouse, sometimes it was an old war buddy, and sometimes it was a complete stranger, one of the hospital volunteers. Some of these men were catatonic, some were in comas. I'd always heard that even unconscious, a patient could hear everything going on around them, but I'd never seen empirical evidence to support it until then. So I started sitting with the patients who didn't have anyone. Sometimes, I talked about little more than the box score from the previous night's Padres game. But I'd like to think it made a difference."

"And your point?" she asked, mildly surprising him by the lack of harshness in her tone. Maybe he could do something to ease her mind.

"I just heard you telling Harm about how he's been there for you," he explained, "and how you're not sure he really needs you. I know that you're frustrated right now, but there is something you can do for him. Talk to him – talk about things you've shared in the past, talk about your hope for the future. Let him hear your voice. Give him something to hold on to."

She hesitated as she pondered what he'd just said, then looked down at Harm again, smiling gently as a memory floated to the forefront of her thoughts. "Do you remember the day AJ was born?" she asked, closing her eyes as the memories washed over her. She could see him standing on the steps with him, looking so strong and vital in his summer whites, so devastatingly handsome with a familiar grin gracing his features. "It was one of the most amazing experiences, watching that little boy come into this world. And talking about our child, what he or she would be like …. So many times since that day, I've thought about what a child of ours would be like. I kept going back and forth, unable to decide if I wanted a boy or a girl. I'd imagine a little boy, with your eyes and your smile, but then I'd wonder what it would be like to have a little girl. I can already see her as daddy's little girl. I think deep inside you're just a big marshmallow and any daughter of ours would have you wrapped around her little finger." She managed a laugh, imagining Harmon Rabb with a daughter. She'd be her father's princess.

Gilly smiled as he listened to her. "Sounds like you and Harm have thought about the future a good deal," he commented. "How long have you been together?"

Mac tightened her fingers around Harm's, the only visible sign that she was troubled by his question. She couldn't exactly explain that they'd been together for little longer than they'd been married. But for them, togetherness was a concept with so many connotations and she latched onto that for an explanation. "Sometimes it feels like forever," she said wistfully. "We've worked together for nearly five years, except for the six months he was here on the Henry. We've been as close as two people can be in so many ways. I wouldn't be surprised if we know more about each other than even our families or other people we've been involved with. It all blurs together, but I honestly think I've loved him almost from the moment I met him."

"Then have faith in that love," he advised, "and believe that will get Harm through this so that you can have that family you've talked about."

Her eyes fell on her hand covering his, her wedding band sparkling on her finger even in the dim light inside the helo. She wished it could be that simple. She knew that in a few hours she would be in Portsmouth, waiting for Harm to come out of surgery as everyone else arrived. Mic would probably be there, expecting her to show up there and she had to be ready to give answers that she wasn't sure she could and which she was sure that Mic would not want to hear.

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To be continued….