A/N: Okay, I just got home from my soccer game (we won by the way, 3 – 1) and so I'm kind of . . . hyper. Yeah, you could say hyper works. So . . . I don't know, bear with me here. I love your reviews! Keep them coming folks. And I especially appreciate the magnitude of the responses I got from the last chapter. Seriously, I sat down at my computer and clicked on my own story just for the heck of it and I swear the bar at the side of the page was miniscule. I couldn't believe I'd written that much.

Special thanks to: Bite Beccy, Bail's Other Daughter, Steelo, Starryeyes10, Kitty X, martini1988, QueenOfAces, froggy0319, alix33, mjag, moonlight, nursejay80, AnMaDeRoNi, snugglebug, jaggurl, Anne, ficchic, dansingwolf, Radiorox, cbw, wishwaters, Rocket Rain, sgcgirl52, tlk29, JJScottishGirl, Blueangel, aj, French-navy girl, Marge, Jane, Tina Frank, highplainswoman, mac AND harm fan, Ali Baba, super ducky, tumblebuttons, AB, Abigiale, macandharmlover, jazzy, vhosek malacath, your fan (or is it my fan?), MartiniMac, HighHeel Shoe Lover, Sirus 745, Fan, Pissed off Poet 1, southernqt, and Britainy! Your reviews were much appreciated!

Okay, I know I left a lot of questions unanswered in the last chapter, so here's Mac's POV to straighten everything out, okay? It's gonna take off from what happened last night (yes, you all know what I'm talking about . . .) grins evilly I'm way too hyper.

I walk over to my room in the same clothes that I'd had on ten minutes ago thrown loosely around my body in a way that – to me – says I don't even really know they're there. I enter the bathroom and take the hottest shower I've ever had in my life. The water pelts of my back, hot and burning but I just relish the feel of it. Tonight was a night to remember.

I moan softly under the assault of the water and let images play back in my mind. It was slow, like a long imagined dream. My hands on his chest, his around my waist, it ran through my mind like a never ending movie. The water sprayed across my face, alerting my senses and jogging my mind from the heavens above. It had taken me so long to get here. But I had known the instant I'd seen him that it was worth it. The look in his eyes, the catch in my breath, the momentum that we'd possessed in that one frightening moment had taken hold of me and any regrets that had clung to my body was washed away in a fleeting instant as I stood under the shower.

Flashback to hours before

My brain was numb, my thoughts unregistered, but my body took hold of my senses as I broke into a sprint. I could just see him, the tail of his tan colored shirt and the back of his head as the white motorbike sped off. I was moving so fast the very details of my surroundings were blurred into nonexistence at the back of my mind. I jumped into a cab and literally shoved money in front of the driver's face, screaming in English – and completely aware of the total cliché – to follow that motorbike.

I swear the driver had never seen so much money in his life. He jammed his foot to the pedal and we quite literally ripped up the road. I was thrown to my seat, struggling with all limbs to see what was ahead of us. After all, someone had to keep their eyes open and alert – but of course, in my case, for all the wrong reasons. I could just see the end of the motorbike, its white shell glistening in the over beating sun. My eyes narrowed in sheer determination – and when a Marine did that, they meant business.

"We're losing them," I muttered to myself and slowly, I clamored to my feet so that I was standing up in the back seat of the car and then threw myself forward, flipping myself into the front seat. The Italian driver nodded to me with a mildly impressed look playing about his features.

We shot through the traffic, expertly steering and manipulating our way through the hoards of cars. I swear I've never heard so much honking in my entire life. The sound vibrated within my ears and skull. I gripped onto the edge of my seat, praying the seatbelts in Italy were as reliable as the ones on American TV were said to be. We twisted our way between two lanes – Harm, as fate made it, happened to be just two cars ahead of us. And then – just like that – he disappeared.

We brake and I go flying, gripping onto the side of the car just in time to stop my head from colliding through the windshield. The world is literally a blend of spinning colors. I toss my hair to the side and strain my disoriented vision upon the spot where Harm disappeared. The groan that I uttered as my eyes cornered a small thin alleyway off to the side of the street is one only comparable to the many issued from the Admiral when both Harm and I served under his command. The alleyway, as it so happens, is thin. So thin that even a bike would have to strain to get through. I can feel a desperate sob take hold of my body and I place my head in my hands, rubbing the temples of my forehead just to calm my jittery nerves.

'He can't go!' my mind screamed at myself. 'It's not freaking fair!' I just melt into the seat. His face has haunted my dreams to the point I'm so scared of falling asleep and waking up to the misery of knowing he's not there. I've become addicted to Ben and Jerry's Cookie Dough ice cream as what is otherwise known as 'comfort food'. I'd take a flavor of chocolate, but I know how much Harm went out of his way to give me chocolate in any form including ice cream and the thought just plain depresses me. And whatever enthusiasm that I had ever brought to JAG with me – I now realize – was solely devoted to one person and if he's not there, I'm drained of any energy that I might have possessed had he be present. I'm a wreck. I'm a freaking emotional wreck under stiff Marine greens. And you know what the saddest part is? Only I know.

Maybe that's a good thing, I reasoned with myself. Who wanted to know that a Lt. Colonel of the US Marine Corps was crumbling from within? But I just didn't care about anyone else's opinion of me right now. To hell with them. I just wanted to escape the nightmare that had become my life. I wanted light in this age of darkness. And every time I thought I saw a faint beam, it just had to disappear up a damn alleyway.

"Missus."

I look up to see my driver patting me on the shoulder. At first I think it's to comfort me, but then I realize he's actually brought somewhere. I look up with a barely mild interest. I'm in the middle of a market place. My bewilderment is clearly pronounced on my face. Does he want me to buy him something?

And then I see it. I swear it's a sign from God. There's the motorbike in all its shiny white glory. I walk over on kind of shaky limbs and touch the back of it, almost immediately withdrawing my hand. The engine's still hot. I feel a shaky emotion vibrate within me and I realize with a qualm of uneasiness that perhaps I've never been so happy in my life. I feel it, warm and hot, but incredibly pure. And the greatest smile blesses my lips.

I turn back to my driver with the utmost sincerity. "Thanks, I'll take it from here."

I pay him a bit more than he asked for. Not many drivers would copy a scene out of some James Bond action sequence. I stroll around the market place, my eyes keen and my senses off the chart. Every word I drink in, every action is noted in my memory. Unfortunately for me, my Italian is not too good. I sigh almost heavily as I approach a lady with thick graying hair tied in a bun at the back of her head.

"Er – excuse me," I make a valiant effort to sound confident but my voice is shaking. The excitement is vibrant and contagious.

The woman turns and then smiles. "I speak English. You need not worry."

It's incredibly wonderful to see a smiling face, but mostly relieving. "That motorbike over there . . .?"

"My son Paolo's."

And just like that, the world stretched out in fingertip length. And I saw the end of my dark tunnel. There was light. Pure, bright, beckoning light.

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Morning dawned raw and bright in Venice Italy. The sun arose to reign high and mighty in the sky as the clouds bowed down in defeat to the insistent sunshine. And in 146 Vinetta Avenue, the inhabitants slowly awoke to the beginning of quite a complication. That is, if they all had been asleep to awake to it . . .

Special Agent Vera Azhad stared at her coffee cup with obvious distaste pronounced clearly upon her features. She was an espresso person. But something told her that she would be spending breakfast inside the house today. And that thought alone unnerved her.

"Morning," Webb grunted. He plopped himself down onto the only other chair at the table and poured himself a cup of coffee, sipping slowly and savoring the strong taste which he would be sure to need today. Vera was quiet, her auburn hair clearly defined against her slightly tanned skin. Her eyes glistened as she sipped her coffee silently, not meeting Webb's eyes for a moment.

The silence was deafening.

"I'm sorry, Vera." The apology was reluctant, the voice was timid, it was nothing Vera needed to hear right now.

"What are you sorry about, Clay?" Vera's dark eyes glinted in the morning light, challenging and determined. His first name sounded hollow on her lips. How long had she deprived herself of it?

"I'm sorry for hurting you." The reply was so pitiful, so pathetic that Vera almost felt sorry for him.

Vera placed her head in her hands and shook herself into sanity. "We have to press the pause button on you and I, Clay." The supposedly strong statement came out as a plea, a heartfelt emotional beg. "We need to figure out what to do here . . . and we need to figure out fast."

She met Webb's cool grey eyes with as much determination as possible. Thoughtful silence flooded the room. Webb shook his head in regret, clearly dreading his own words. "We can't keep them apart now."

Vera looked at him incredulously. "Like hell we can't!"

Webb slammed his coffee cup down on the table. "You don't know Rabb!"

"I know him a hell of a lot better than you do," Vera snapped back in defiance. Her hair twisted aflame around her neck, her eyes just daring him to engage in verbal combat.

"Rabb can't stay away from her," Clay hissed.

"He will." Her statement came out so boldly, so confidently, Vera was almost surprised at the taste of the words in her mouth. "He will if he knows Mac's in danger. And she is."

"But Sarah won't stay away from Harm," and Clay said this with such heavy reluctance that Vera was forced to listen. "She . . . you know . . . they like each other too much."

Vera snorted. "They're a bit beyond that point, don't you think?"

"Don't rub it in."

Vera leaned back in her chair, took another sip of coffee and the infamous wince returned. She scowled at Webb. "This is all your fault."

"How the hell's it my fault?" Webb cried with sheer incredulity.

"You were practically bating him – sending him pictures every two weeks!" Vera snapped back in her best effort to keep her voice low. "It's a wonder why he didn't just steal that motorbike he was on and try and drive over the ocean to reach her!"

"Rabb may be desperate but he's not an idiot," Webb countered, his voice rising in volume.

"No," Vera corrected herself, her voice rising as well. "You're the idiot for letting all of this get this far!"

"Oh, right. So I'm supposed to . . ."

"Oh, shut up," Jake drawled and pulled Webb's chair away. Vera and Webb were both standing. "You're giving me a freaking headache just to add to all my other pains."
"Aww," Webb drawled. "Bad Boy fall off his motorcycle?"

"I'd love to see you sleep on that rock filled couch," Jake snarled and poured himself a cup of coffee. He tasted it and then cringed. "Who made this nasty stuff?"

"Shut up, it's my first time," Vera snapped.

"Good morning everyone, and what a fine day it is," Harm greeted cheerfully, entering the room accompanied by Mac.

"Oh yeah, just like a ray of sunshine," Clay drawled.

Harm and Mac poured themselves coffee. Mac leaned back against the wall and sipped the contents of her mug, barely able to keep the half horrified/half amused expression off her face. "Wow, this is almost as bad as Tiner's."

"Amen, Halleluiah," Vera snarled.

"Why were you sleeping on the couch?" Clay inquired, setting down his coffee cup.

Jake remained cool and collected. "Harm hogs the bed."

"I do not," came the immediately indignant reply.

Rrriiinnngg.

Vera flipped open her handbag and dug out her cell phone. "Azhad." A long pause. "No, Chuck." Another really long pause. Vera's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "Just listen to me. I can explain . . ." a long defeated sigh. "We'll be right there."

Vera tossed her dark auburn hair back and jumped off her chair. "We need to go."

"One sec . . ." Webb muttered, reaching for his keys.

"No," Vera said slowly. "We all need to go."

A long unsettling stare shifted around the room, uneasiness growing rapidly within the room. Almost magnetically Harm and Mac's hands interlinked. Vera cleared her throat, "Mac, you've been followed."

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A/N: I know this chapter kind of sucked but I'm going to get so much more action and drama and romance in. I'll try and update Sunday at the latest. Now, from Monday to Friday I'm going to be in Calgary on a fieldtrip with my class so I won't be able to update but I'll try to as soon as I get back. Sorry.