MONDAY MORNING
28 MAY 2001
0653 LOCAL
IHOP RESTAURANT
NOFOLK, VIRGINIA

As Mac walked across the parking lot to the restaurant entrance, she could see through the windows that Mic was already inside, sitting in the waiting area. Okay, MacKenzie, she thought, you can get through this, hopefully with a minimum of blood shed. The previous night, before she'd crawled into bed, she'd paced across the floor of her room, trying to rehearse what she was going to say, as she might rehearse an argument she would make in court, but she couldn't come up with the right words. After all, she'd never really done this before.

True, she'd had relationships end before, but not like this. With both Chris and John, the relationship had ended due to circumstances – Chris had been sent to jail and she'd been transferred away from John. They hadn't actually broken up in the way most people thought of a break up. They'd simply gone their separate ways with few words. With Dalton, the breakup was so sudden, a knee-jerk reaction to his betrayal, that they'd never really discussed it. She'd simply ordered him out of her life. They might have discussed it at their planned meeting at McMurphy's – Dalton had certainly wanted to - but Detective Coster had intervened with the bullet that had ended Dalton's life.

Mac knew Mic wasn't going to let her just walk away with an 'it's been nice knowing you,' nor did he deserve such a cavalier statement. He'd put his heart and soul into their relationship, even when she couldn't, and it was going to be hard for him to just walk away. He'd given up so much for her and she was about to repay him by ripping his heart out of his chest and stomping on it before handing it back to him in pieces. It was up to her to try to soften the blow as much as possible.

I shouldn't have led him on, she told herself, made him think that I was could give him more than I was capable of.

She'd tried. Oh, how she'd tried to be the woman he wanted her to be, but maybe Harriet had been correct on Friday, when she'd said that she'd let Mic basically blackmail her into moving the ring over. Maybe he'd played on the sacrifices he'd made for her. He'd given up his career in the Navy and moved halfway around the world – for her. He'd given up his job at his swanky law firm – for her friends. With few prospects left for him in Washington, he'd talked about going back to Australia. What woman could stand up under that kind of pressure?

She couldn't place the blame for what had happened completely on his shoulders, however. She'd thought that Harm was leaving, resigning his commission to go look for Sergei. She couldn't hang on to Harm, so she'd clung to what Mic was offering her with a such ferocity. In retrospect, it did appear that finally accepting Mic's proposal had more to do with Harm's leaving than with wanting to spend the rest of her life with Mic. What kind of person had she become that she was so desperate not to be alone that she would hurt Mic so badly by nearly saddling him with a wife who could never love him the way he deserved to be loved?

She'd finally willed herself to sleep by telling herself that if there was an upside to this, it was that this had all come out before the wedding. Harm's words on Wednesday evening, shortly before they'd taken the plunge that had set them irrevocably on this course, had echoed in her mind….

And how long can this go on before the circumstances arise when it is just you and me, with nothing and no one around to tell us no?

Would she and Harm have been able to stay away from each other, even while she was wearing a gold band as a symbol of her vows to another? She'd turned the question over in her mind as she'd tossed and turned half the night away and she'd come to a simple conclusion just as she'd drifted off to sleep. Even if she'd been able to remain physically faithful to her marriage, she'd have never been able to do so spiritually. There always would have been a part of her soul lost to what might have been with the man she truly loved.

Mic didn't deserve to live with that. He had so much love to give and he deserved to have that love returned in equal measure by a woman who would mean it with her whole heart when she promised to love, honor, and cherish. She knew now that as much as she'd tried to make herself fit into that mold, she couldn't force this square peg into the round hole of a marriage to Mic. Now, she would have to make him see that as gently as she possibly could.

Squaring her shoulders, she pulled the door open and stepped into the restaurant. Mic caught sight of her immediately and rose to meet her, a broad smile on his face. "Morning, love," he said as he kissed her cheek. She accepted the gesture, mentally saying a prayer of gratitude that he hadn't tried for more as he had the morning before. She did not want to start out with a scene over his loving, if now unwelcome, attentions before they even sat down for breakfast. "I went ahead and put us down for a table."

"Good," she said, managing a weak smile in return. "Did they say about how long it would be?"

"Should be any time now," he replied, glancing at his watch. "When I arrived, the lass at the counter said it would be about a ten minute wait and it's been about that now."

"Good," she repeated. She didn't want to sit in the waiting area too long, forced to make polite, uncomfortable small talk. At least at the table, they'd have a bit more space to talk about what needed to be discussed, but with just enough of a lack of privacy that she hoped Mic wouldn't make a scene.

"Brumby, party of two," the hostess said brightly as she grabbed two menus from under the counter.

Mic motioned for Mac to move ahead of him, placing his hand on the small of her back. She tried not to squirm as they followed the hostess to the non-smoking section of the restaurant, tried not to think about the innumerable ways in which his touch was different from Harm's. She had to focus on the here and now. She had to give Mic her full attention, not the distraction of a woman whose heart and mind were back at the hospital. After this was over, she would gladly focus her entire being on Harm. This was Mic's time.

The hostess led them a two-person booth next to a window, setting menus in front of them as they sat down. "Your waiter will be with you in a minute," she said before leaving them alone.

Mac opened her menu, pretending to study it. She wasn't really that hungry. She usually ate breakfast on the run, at least when she was working, and the previous night, under Sarah's gentle urging, she'd managed to eat a full dinner and dessert. It had been more food than she'd eaten in at least the last week, and with all the stress she was under, it hadn't settled well in her stomach.

Feeling Mic's eyes on her, she glanced over the top of her menu to find him staring at her, or rather, staring at the patch on the left front of Harm's leather flight jacket. There wasn't anything she could do about it. She was a little chilly and Harm's jacket had been the only one she'd brought with her to Norfolk. She'd needed that tangible connection to him when he'd been lost. It wasn't as if Mic didn't know she was with Harm now.

She thought Mic looked like he was about to say something, but their waiter appeared at Mac's side. "What can I get you folks to drink?" he asked.

"Coffee is fine," Mac said, stifling a yawn with a hand over her mouth.

"I'll have the same," Mic said, tearing his gaze away from Mac to address the waiter.

"I'll bring your cups right out," the waiter said. "Are you ready to order or do you need some more time?"

"I'll just have a couple of sausage patties," Mac said, closing her menu and handing it back to the waiter.

"Sarah, you need to eat more than that," Mic insisted. "I'll order a dish large enough for both of us to share."

He turned to the waiter and handed over his own menu. "I'll have the breakfast sampler," he said, "eggs sunny side up, mate." The waiter wrote down their order and left them alone.

Mac resisted the urge to shake her head. "I'm not hungry," she said. "I don't usually eat a large breakfast, and I did have a large dinner last night."

"Where did you eat?" Mic asked as the waiter returned with their coffee cups. Mic grabbed the carafe already sitting on the table and poured some coffee in Mac's cup before doing the same to his own. "You should've called me, and I would've gone with you."

Mac took a sip of her coffee, trying not to shudder at the weakness of the brew, as she tried to phrase her response in her mind. "Actually, Mic," she said finally, "I had a late dinner with Harm's family to celebrate Sergei's arrival and Harm's improvement." At Mic's blank look, she clarified, "Harm's brother."

"Thought he was in a prison camp somewhere in Chechnya," Mic commented in an even tone.

Mac shrugged, slightly curious as to his interest, but it wasn't really a topic to pursue. "Somehow, Clayton Webb managed to workout some kind of deal for his release," she explained. "Neither Sergei nor Clay offered any details."

"So Rabb's doing better," he remarked.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," Mac said, not quite able to disguise the worry in her tone. "He woke up yesterday afternoon and he was awake for a short time last night when Sergei arrived, but he's mostly been sleeping. They're going to run some tests this morning, but based on his responses yesterday, the doctor doesn't seem to be too concerned about any cognitive impairment. He probably will be in the hospital for at least a week if all continues to go well, although I'm sure it'll be a while before he's well enough to return to work."

"Well, that's good," Mic said. "I'm sure Rabb will be back in the courtroom before you know it. I know you've been very worried about him."

"Yeah," Mac murmured as Mic went on, oblivious to her soft response.

"I can understand how hard it has been for you, seeing your friend in such a situation," he continued. "You want to do anything to help him feel better. I'm sure that explains everything."

"Of course," Mac said warily, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop. Mic had his good points, but compassion and understanding regarding her relationship with Harm had never been one of them, even before the events of the last few days.

"Maybe you thought he was going to die when he asked you to marry him," he went on, ignoring her discomfiture. "Certainly understandable that you responded the way you did to what might have been a deathbed wish. Of course, it does complicate things. I'll have to do some research into the validity of the marriage. It's possible the Church might not see it as valid under the circumstances, even if the ceremony was performed by a Catholic priest. If they do consider it legitimate, then that's just a hurdle we'll have to overcome. I'm not sure how long it will take for an annulment …."

"Wait a minute," Mac said. Feeling the eyes of the other patrons on her at her raised tone, she moderated her voice, dropping it to just above a whisper. "Who said anything about an annulment?"

"It's understood," Mic replied in a placating tone. "Of course, it will be easier to plan a new date for our wedding if we don't have to worry about officially dissolving your marriage to Rabb. We can pick any date we want to hold the ceremony. We'll just have to delay things a bit if you have to go the annulment route. I hope it doesn't come to that, but we'll deal with it if it does."

Mac stared at him, slack-jawed, unable to believe what she was hearing. She'd expected him to be hurt. She could've understood if he'd been angry, but she'd never anticipated that he would blithely go on as if her marriage to Harm was simply a minor bump in the road to their own matrimonial plans. Harriet's words from Friday night echoed in her mind.

Commander Rabb was right, when he agreed to back off and let you make your decision. He can't make it for you, any more than Mic should have been able to make your decision regarding his marriage proposal and that's what he did for all intents and purposes.

It was suddenly clear to her what Mic was doing. He thought that she wanted the same things he did, so he was telling her how she was going to end her marriage to Harm and marry him instead. He was just assuming that they were of one mind, as he'd done for most of their relationship.

"Mic, I'm married to Harm," Mac reminded him, still hoping that she could get him to see reason somehow. She just had to hold her position. "It's my duty as his wife to take care of him. 'In sickness and in health,' remember?"

"Sarah," he said with exaggerated patience, "Rabb doesn't need you to take care of him. His parents are here, and so is his grandmother - and I'm sure they're not planning to go anywhere until Rabb is better. And now with his brother here, he has all the help he could possibly want. He doesn't need you, but I do."

"Harm does need me," Mac said with more patience than she felt, "and I need him. I didn't realize how much until …. " She trailed off, afraid of saying too much. She couldn't predict how Mic would react if he knew exactly when she'd come to that conclusion. It wouldn't benefit anyone for him to know what had transpired Wednesday night.

Fortunately, she was saved from continuing when their waiter returned with their breakfasts. He set their meals in front of them, and then quickly left again after making sure everything was satisfactory.

"But we love each other," Mic pointed out as soon as the waiter had gone. "We've been planning our wedding for months."

"I love Harm," she blurted out, drawing stares from the other customers. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she studied Mic for any clue as to what he was thinking, but his face was impassive, revealing nothing. In a quieter voice, she repeated, "I love Harm. I married him because I wanted to, and I want to stay married to him."

"For the last five months," he countered, "you've loved me and wanted to marry me. Now you expect me to believe that all of a sudden you wanted to marry Rabb? When exactly did you come to this conclusion? When Rabb was at death's door?"

"Mic," Mac said in exasperation, taking a deep breath. The conversation was quickly getting out of control. She decided to try a different tact. "Isn't it better that I came to this conclusion now, rather than after we were already married? I don't want to hurt you, but it's better that we recognize the truth now instead of later."

"So it's better that you cheated on me before the wedding," he sneered, "rather than after?"

Mac stared at him in shock, rendered mute. When she finally found her voice, it was barely above a whisper. "How did you know?" she asked.

He reached behind him and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. "To be honest," he replied angrily, "I wasn't sure until just now." He took a piece of paper out of the wallet and held it out to her. As she reached for it, he continued, "I tried to think of another explanation of why you would have been buying breakfast for two at the Norfolk Officer's Club on Thursday morning. There had to be a reason why my fiancée was in Norfolk when she should have been busy preparing for our wedding, besides the obvious. Apparently, you didn't learn from what happened with your first husband and Colonel Farrow."

Mac impassively accepted the barb, startled at the grain of truth behind it. She unfolded the paper he'd handed her, recognizing it as the receipt for the breakfast she and Harm had shared Thursday morning on their way to the air field. Despite her original intention to keep this to herself, she was relieved in a way that the truth was out. His obvious anger over what she'd done was easier for her to deal with than his blithe denial of the status of their relationship. "I'm sorry," she said simply, knowing it was inadequate.

"So how long has this been going on?" Mic demanded. "Have the two of you been together behind my back, and Renee's, all this time? When you two spent so much time outside at our engagement party, were you busy planning your next tryst?"

"You may not believe this," she replied with more calm than she felt, "but that night was the first and only time we were together like that." She held her gaze steady on his, searching for any hint of what he was now thinking. In the anger burning bright in his eyes, she could see more questions. "I do have to admit that I had my doubts before that about you and me. At our engagement party, I pressed Harm out on the porch. I needed to know how he felt about me. If I knew that he didn't love me …."

"So I was your fallback guy, is that it?" Mic asked. "If Rabb didn't want you, then you'd just settle for what I was offering?"

"It wasn't quite like that," she protested, even as the little voice inside her head pointed out that it was precisely like that. Harm had left everything behind, including her, so he could chase a long-lost dream and she'd let herself be open to the attention Mic was paying to her. She'd thought Harm hadn't wanted her in Sydney, so she'd let Mic place his ring on her right hand. When she'd believed Harm was leaving again to chase after his missing brother, she'd impulsively moved Mic's ring over to her left hand.

"Mic, you are a good man and I loved the attention you paid to me," she continued. "But I've realized that I can't love you the way you deserve to be loved. You showed me so much love and you should be with someone who can return that devotion. I'm not that woman, no matter how much I tried to be."

"So you just hung around with me until Rabb returned your interest," he ground out, "then you went running to him."

"I'm sorry," she said, blinking back tears. "I know that probably doesn't mean a lot right now, but maybe someday you'll realize that it is for the best. I wouldn't have been happy and all I would have done is make you miserable. You don't deserve that. No one does."

When Mic didn't reply, she took a five dollar bill out of her purse and set it on the table. "I guess there's nothing left to say," she said softly. "I'm truly sorry it had to end this way. Look, I'll return your ring when I get back to Washington. Goodbye, Mic."

Seeing that he wasn't going to reply, she quietly got up and left the restaurant. Once she was in her car, the key in the ignition, she exhaled heavily, blinking back tears. She was relieved to have that confrontation over without too much of a scene, but she was sad that a good man had gotten hurt in the progress.

-----

Inside the restaurant, Mic covered the money she'd left on the table with his hand, crumpling it in his fist as he watched her Corvette pull out of the parking lot. He was furious – with her for leading him on for all those months, with himself for not remembering the circumstances under which they'd first become acquainted. She'd cheated on her first husband. How could he have been so blind as to think that she still wasn't that same woman?

He couldn't bring himself to wish them well. All he could see was that Rabb now had what should have been his. He would never forget that – never.

-----

1105 LOCAL TIME
INTENSIVE CARE UNIT
PORTSMOUTH NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER

Harm was exhausted and suffering from a major headache by the time he was taken back to his room. This had been the longest he'd been awake since he'd regained consciousness and now all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. The good news was that all the tests he'd just been subjected to had shown no sign of any significant impairment due to his injury and surgery. He would still be able to practice law and, with a lot of effort on his part, he was sure that he'd eventually pass his flight physical, as soon as he was cleared to take it. He was determined not to have that taken away from him a second time.

He was still confused regarding the exact circumstances of the accident itself and the event which had led to his transfer to Portsmouth, but Dr. Stafford had seemed unconcerned about that, for the most part. The doctor had gone on about how it wasn't that unusual given what had happened to him. Harm had decided not to worry too much about it. He did remember enough of the flight before the accident to know that the Tomcat had been experiencing problems even before they'd ended up in the middle of the storm. What he didn't remember about the accident probably wouldn't turn out to be that important.

His eyes had just fluttered closed when he heard a startled gasp from the doorway. Slowly turning his head, mindful of the pounding at the back of it, he was surprised to see Renee standing in the doorway, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. "Renee," he said weakly, his voice still hoarse. He wasn't really in any condition to deal with this right now, but it appeared he didn't have much of a choice. "Come on in."

"I didn't realize," Renee whispered as she slipped into the room, visibly taken aback by his appearance. "I knew it was bad, but …."

"Actually, the doctor tells me I'm doing pretty well, considering," he tried to assure her. "I may even be out of here by this time next week."

"That's good," Renee said, sinking into one of the chairs near the bed. She looked down at her hands, nervously studying her manicure. "I'm glad you'll be okay."

"Thank you," he said.

He waited for her to say what she'd come to say, but when she continued to sit silently, he finally asked, "How did you get in here?" He winced, realizing how harsh that sounded.

Finally, Renee looked up at him with a sigh. "I'm going back to Washington," she explained, "and I wanted to see you before I left. I didn't really want to have come all this way for nothing, so I called your mother this morning and asked if she could arrange it so I could see you to say goodbye. I promised that I wouldn't stay too long and wear you out."

What was Mom thinking? Harm wondered. If Mac were to find out that she did this…. He didn't want to start off his married life with tension between his mother and his wife; he loved them both and didn't want to be in a position where he would be caught between them. He was thankful that Mac wasn't here yet, but she was due anytime. He'd called her earlier on her cell phone and, since he was going to be undergoing tests most of the morning, they'd mutually agreed that she would come to see him around lunchtime. He just hoped Renee would say her piece and leave before Mac arrived. He wasn't in any condition to deal with the two of them at the same time.

"I'm sorry," he said, not sure what to say.

"So am I," Renee replied tearfully. "I loved you, you know."

"Yes, I know," he replied, clearing his throat.

"I always hoped that once Mac was married," she continued wistfully, "that there would be a chance for you and me. You had to have known that I wanted to spend my life with you."

Harm didn't know how to reply. Yes, he'd known how Renee felt, but as long as Mac had belonged to someone else, he'd accepted that. He'd needed her to shield himself from the pain. When he was with her, he could forget, if only for a little bit. She'd made him feel wanted at a time when he desperately needed it, when it seemed that the woman he loved wanted him, but not enough to give him the time he needed.

"Harm, can I ask you something?" Renee plunged ahead when he didn't say anything. "Maybe this isn't the right time, but I don't really think there is any such thing. I know you have a lot to deal with getting better right now, but I need to know."

He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the question, whatever it was, but he started to nod assent, grimacing at the pain that lanced through his head. Renee's expression grew concerned.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "Do you need a nurse to bring you something for the pain?"

"No," he replied. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to will the pain away. "It's just a side effect of the injury and the surgery. I'm sure it will go away eventually. What's your question?"

He opened his eyes. She was still sitting there watching him, worry etched in her eyes. "Renee?" he asked after a moment, when she didn't say anything;

"If Mac had gone through with the wedding and married Mic, would you and I have eventually gotten married ourselves?" she blurted out.

Of all the questions for her to ask, he thought.

"Renee, I know how you feel about me…." he began slowly, but she cut him off with a shake of her head.

"Please, do me a favor and don't tell me what you think I want to hear," she pleaded. "Answer me honestly. Would you have married me?"

He thought about it for a long moment. He'd never allowed himself to think about what would come after the woman he loved was presented to the world as Mrs. Mic Brumby. It had been all he could do to deal with the fact that the day when that would apparently happen had been drawing inevitably closer. "I don't know," he finally said. "I couldn't see past Mac's wedding to Mic. I don't think I was ready to accept it until it was a done deal."

"I suppose that's the best answer I'm going to get," she said with a shrug, not quite successful in masking her displeasure with his answer.

"Renee," he said, his gaze holding hers, "I know you probably don't believe me, but it's the truth. I don't know what would have happened, but I think that if I had married you, I would have made you miserable. I love Mac, Renee. I don't think I would have been able to stop, even if she'd married Mic."

"I guess that's honest," she said after a long moment, nodding. "Would you have been able to stay away from her? Never mind, I think I know the answer to that."

Harm was startled, wondering what had brought that last question on. Was it just the fact the fact that he'd turned to Mac so suddenly or was it something else. Could she possibly know….? He couldn't see how she could know that Mac had come to Norfolk Wednesday night. As far as he knew, no one knew that Mac had driven to see him that night. As honest as he was trying to be with Renee, he couldn't tell her that. It would serve no purpose except to upset Renee even more, and he didn't want to do that to her. "What are you going to do now?" he asked, hoping to draw her attention away from his relationship with Mac.

"Right now," she replied, "I'm going to head back to Washington. There's no reason for me to stay here now that I know you're going to be okay. After that, I'm not sure yet. I've had a few offers out in Hollywood that I've been putting off accepting. I mean, if you and I could've made it work, then … Well, I guess that doesn't matter anymore, does it? It's time to get on with my life."

"I'm sorry I hurt you, Renee," Harm said. "I know how much you wanted it to work out between us."

"I'm sorry, too," she echoed, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. "Look, I should probably get out of here. I'm sure you're tired. It's been a rough few days for you. I hope you get better soon, Harm."

"Thank you," he replied. "And good luck, Renee. I hope things go well for you."

"Um, thanks," she said, standing and slinging her purse over her shoulder. She forced a smile. "Goodbye, Harm."

"Goodbye, Renee," he replied.

She stood there for another moment, watching him. Just when he was about to ask her if she had something else to say, she turned around and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Harm closed his eyes, sighing in relief. That had gone immeasurably better than he'd expected, but he was glad it was over. He was comforted that she seemed to be taking it so well. She was a good person, just not the right one for him.

-----

As soon as the door closed behind her, Renee slumped against the wall, trembling. As she fought back tears, she wondered how she'd been able to keep her composure in there. She'd had so many hopes for her and Harm, and even if she knew in her mind that they'd been in vain, it was like a vise around her heart to hear it spelled out in black and white.

No matter how much she'd tried to convince herself otherwise, Harm hadn't loved her. Although he hadn't said it in those terms, she knew now that she'd only ever been a distraction for him. Mac had always been the one he'd loved, and even if Mac had married Mic, his heart never would've let go of her. She understood now that wasn't in his nature.

"Oh, God," she whispered, wrapping her arms around her waist. She couldn't remember ever hurting this much. It was as if she'd been physically punched in the gut, the wind knocked out of her. She'd give anything for this feeling to go away. Trying to drown herself in booze hadn't helped, only giving her a persistent headache for her troubles. Maybe buring herself in work would accomplish what the alcohol hadn't.

Renee forced herself to stand up straight, digging through her purse for some tissue. She just had to prove that she was stronger than this, she decided, dabbing at her eyes. She might be down right now, but she would rise above it. She didn't have a choice if she was to move on.

Returning the tissue to her purse, she took a few cleansing breaths, resolving not to think about one Harmon Rabb for at least the next few hours. Then she'd resolve not to think about him for another few hours, and so on until someday she wouldn't think of him at all. She turned towards the exit, stopping short when she saw the figure approaching.

"Hello, Mac," she said bitterly.

-----

To be continued….