A/N: Alright, school is OVER. Yes, I will repeat this once more. School is finally OVER. You all know what that means, you're a smart bunch – longer chapters coming at you at a faster pace.

Major 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?), Britainy, MartiniMac, HighHeel Shoe Lover, Sirus 745, Fan, Pissed off Poet 1, southernqt, BrittanyLS, sugar230, K, Ilovemyselftoday, eggy weg, xobabygurlxo, Reni-Maniac, Cille, ForensicsFreak1988, MaritzaCarmichael, and HMtogether4ever!

Note: This chapter starts off in Mac's POV (because I know how much everyone loves her side of the story . . . (cheers)).

The Bigger Picture

It was a rainy Saturday morning and I sat in a small semi-dirty train carriage, staring out the window at the flying Italian scenery. My motion sickness seemed to have caught up with me – I had already puked twice in the train bathrooms – and now I sat in my seat with my hand placed delicately over my stomach. I closed my eyes and willed Harm's picture in front of me – his cocky flyboy grin, his shining blue eyes. And I smiled. My last hour with Harm had passed quickly – much too quickly for my liking. Yet sometimes, the smallest things in life are the sweetest.

Flashback to a few hours before

The rain hammered against the gravel, pounding hard against Jake's rather small motorbike. I stood out in the downpour, the thin lining of my t-shirt already drenched. My clothes clung to my body, the top of my head dry only through the shelter of Jake's extra motorcycle helmet. Jake wore a thick leather jacket that sheltered his upper body from the rain pretty well. I shivered in my t-shirt. Harm seemed to notice this for he immediately stripped off his thin jacket and put it over me. I didn't even try to refuse.

"Alright, she's all loaded up," Jake said, my small duffel bag of clothes tied onto the back of the bike. "Now, I've just got to pop inside and get my glasses and we'll be on our way."

"You wear glasses?" I asked, almost incredulously.

Jake looked highly offended. "Hey, I need something to keep the water out of my eyes."

Harm grinned, "And he needs something when he has to read."

"Aww, don't listen to him, Mac," Jake butt in, turning around on his way up to the house. "Everyone knows I don't read."

And for a beautiful precious moment Harm and I were alone. My brown eyes sank into his blue ones and we stood there for a minute, our fingers entwined within each other and the proximity of our bodies generating all the surrounding heat.

"I guess this is good-bye," I whispered.

Harm smiled at me, a sort of sad half-smile. "Why good-bye and not good luck?"

"Didn't you say that to me when I was stupid enough to leave you?" and the question lingers in the air, our breath soaking up the essence of it. I stare into Harm's blue orbs and I feel like I'm continually plunging.

He smiles. "Yeah, I did . . ."

"And you said you were happy for me," I can't stop the tears from stinging the back of my eyes but I keep them at bay. I muster all my Marine-power and stay sturdy and strong. But looking at Harm and watching him slip away gives me all the more reason to cry.

"But that was different," Harm whispered, his lips moving slowly, but our eye-connection never fading for a second. "You were in love."

My breath is hollow. "And we're not?"

"Hey guys!" Jake breaks the bridges we've just formed. "Guys, come here!"

Both Harm and I turn and follow Jake into the house, shaking ourselves off in the kitchen like wet dogs. Jake turns down the hallway and stops outside a door, pressing a finger to his lips to motion for our silence. When both Harm and I nod, Jake pushes the door open and lo and behold, what scene meets our eyes? Vera and Clay pressed up against each other. Webb had his hand around Vera's waist and Vera's head lay almost comfortably upon Clay's chest. It's a scene of bewilderment.

"Well, there's a twisted kind of love," Jake guffawed.

"Hey," I whispered, recalling that day in Harm's office before he went off flying. "What does love have to do with anything?"

I watch the streets fly, the trees zoom by. I watch the loud grey billowing sky and see the small rays of sunshine filtering through. I breathe in the thick rainy air through my slightly open window. I drink in my surroundings. His picture floats before my eyes, drawing a blissful smile upon my lips. My stomach flips again and I hold pack the urge to hurl. I feel like I'm thousands of feet up in the air in a tomcat with Harm steering. And though I secretly know that if I were up in a tomcat I would rather have no one else but Harm, the thought still makes me dizzy.

I leaned back against my seat and shut my eyes, laying a light hand against my delicate stomach. And I wondered, as I nodded off into the wonderful world of slumber, what Harm was thinking at this exact moment.

"Where are we going?" I asked miserably, my six foot four body collapsed on some dinky little couch we have in the living room. I'm pathetic. It's officially been four hours since she's left and all I've done is sit on a couch way too small for me and watch soap operas – in Italian.

"What do you mean?" Vera asked, hitting me to move over so she could join me on the couch. I oblige grudgingly.

"I mean, where are we moving?"

Vera breathes in. "Clay and I are still discussing that."

And a fat load of discussing they did last night.

Vera takes one look at the screen. "Ooh, yay, Coronation Street."

I get off the couch. "You disgust me."

"Hey, you were the one who just watched back to back The Young and the Restless," Vera retorted, sliding her slim figure to couch length. I open my mouth but she beats me to the punch with, "and don't tell me you don't know the show. You were following along with the characters."

Okay, so I've seen it once or twice. Big deal. I prefer military drama anyway . . . I mean it.

The back door of the house opens and Jake comes in looking drenched and weather beaten. His leather jacket all of a sudden doesn't seem so thick and slick. Jake blows a wet bang out of his face. "Well, she made it to the airport safely."

Vera's resisting the urge to giggle, you can tell by her face. She grabs a clean towel out of the linen closet and makes Jake take off his jacket so she can dry him up a bit. He unzips his jacket and practically empties out an entire swimming pool. Vera begins to pad his wet shirt, "What happened to you? We expected you back an hour ago."

"Yeah," I grinned from on the couch. "We were gonna call the CIA on you. Runaway bike."

"Shut up, Rabb."

Vera signaled for him to take off his shirt and Jake very obligingly did so. She patted his chest down with the towel. "No, seriously, Jake, where were you? It doesn't take that long to get to the train station and back."

Jake grinned wildly. "Well what was I supposed to do? Pull into the train station and say 'Arrivederci, Baby' and leave the poor girl standing there?" Nah, I helped her," and then, with a wink in my direction he added, "and then she helped me."

I stood up so fast I almost knocked the couch over. Vera laughed. "Jeez, Harm, the furniture may be quiet but it does have feelings."

I shot both Vera and Jake a dirty look.

"Hey, Vera," Jake said, slinging the now soaking towel over his shoulder. "Mind if I use your bathroom to shower in?"

"Not at all," Vera replied briskly. "There are a few dry towels in the cupboard below the sink."

Jake grinned in thanks at her causing me to roll my eyes and then he disappeared into the bathroom. I quickly followed him in. "What actually happened between you and Mac at the train station?" I demanded.

"A little of this, a little of that," Jake threw his wet towel at me and began to undress while I collapsed on Vera's bed (outside the bathroom – I'm not a pervert) and then realized what Clay and Vera probably did last night and then immediately jumped out of it.

"I'm just kidding, Harm," Jake called from inside the bathroom. "That chick likes you too much. I didn't even get a good-bye kiss, and I drove her through a monsoon to get to that damn station."

The words mean something to me. Jake is hot – and no, I'm not gay, it's just a fact of life – and, I mean, Mac fell for Brumby. If Mic managed to win over Mac, I'm mortally terrified of the infamous player Jake.

"Seriously, Harm, I know you say she isn't your girl," Jake's voice comes through the bathroom door. "But, jeez, man, for all the looking she does at other guys, you might as well be on your fiftieth anniversary." A long pause from within the bathroom and then – "Not that she's old or anything. I mean, she's still hot and . . ."

"Yeah, I get it," I cut him off.

"But, Harm, a piece of advice on the ladies, don't – ARGHH!" Jake's voice is drowned out.

I immediately leap up from my rather comfortable leaning position against the wall and pound on the door. "Jake, what's wrong? Dammit, Jake, open up!"

And very slowly, the door does open. And there stands Jake in all his glory covered from head to toe in dough. Not a square inch of his skin is not layered in the floury stuff. I take one look at him and a deep chuckle erupted from within me. I'm laughing so hard I can't stop.

Jake immediately seizes a towel to wrap around his waist and bellows, "Vera!"

Vera comes in, evidently disturbed about being interrupted in the middle of a crucial part of Coronation Street, takes one look at Jake and erupts into a fit of giggles.

"Miss Azhad," Jake says softly but not without humor, "would you be kind enough to explain to me why I look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy's kid just regurgitated on me?"

Vera's finding it hard to control her giggling. "I don't know, but he must have a mighty big kid." And then something dawns on her. "Oh my, that was my shower . . ." her face contorts. "Clay!"

Webb walks in on the bizarre scene, taking in Jake's dough covered form, my red face, and Vera's slightly amused but definitely inquisitive one. "I don't suppose you had anything to do with this?"

Clay's eyes travel between Vera and Jake. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Vera marches into the bathroom and peels off the sticky dough covered shower wall a piece of paper with the word 'GOTCHA' on it. "Nice try, Clay."

"Only the best for you, Azhad," Clay grins.

"Why, how very sweet of you, Webb."

"Um, folks," Jake calls attention to himself. "I'm still covered in dough. And," he pointed out with a scowl, "through no fault of my own."

"Oh, sorry," Clay quickly apologized and then disappeared into his room and returned with a green towel. "Take this and you can wash off in my bathroom . . ."

Jake took the towel and began to wiped the dough off his chest but was almost immediately interrupted by Vera's wide and alarmed eyes. "Oh, no, Jake . . ."

"What?" he wiped the dough up from around his neck and then I saw what Vera was talking about. All along Jake's chest, and now around his neck, was acid green. He looked down at himself. "Oh, my."

"I'm so sorry," Vera apologized. "That was supposed to be for Clay."

"You covered my towel in ink!" Clay asked incredulously.

"You filled my shower with cookie batter," Vera defended.

"Pancake batter, actually, and it's rather good . . ."

"Shut up, Clay."

"Harm?" Jake said loudly, turning to me. "Can I use your shower?"

"Be my guest," I responded, my laughter subsiding only slightly.

"Any nasty little surprises you want to tell me about before I use it?" Jake snapped.

"None that I can think of at the moment."

Jake disappeared into my bathroom and I went back to the couch. Sometimes I just can't help but get the feeling that some people would rather be left alone . . .

"Well," Clay turned to Vera as soon as he saw Harm's retreating form, "I guess we both lost round one."

Vera's eyebrow cocked up, "Why, Agent Webb, whatever do you mean?"

Suddenly the intensity of her eyes was almost unbearable. "I mean both our pranks messed up."

She flashed him another lethal smile. "If that was the only one I made . . ."

And it then occurred to Webb that he would have to watch his back the next few days. But so, he agreed with a grim smile of satisfaction, would she.

A/N: Ahh, this chapter was short too! Okay, not a lot of HM shipper in this one, but they're going their separate ways (for now, and only for now – you can put back your verbal rifles). But believe me, I'm still keeping Harm and Mac in the chapters, okay? Reviews very much appreciated. Praise is always appreciated! (but I can take criticism too . . .)

Steelo: yeah, it has rather been a long time since I've heard from you? Don't sweat it, you've got all summer to read this.

Bail's Other Daughter: Thanks for understanding about the whole separating thing. But don't worry, they'll reunite. And it'll be a REALLY good reunition (is that a word? – MicroSoft Word doesn't have it in the dictionary)

Abigaile: Well, I did have Harm and Mac in this chapter . . . not too much together, but I swear on HM Shipperiness that there will continue to be HM romance!

HMtogether4ever: hey – yeah, Vera's mine. Thanx for reviewing, I hope you continue to read Full Throttle!

MaritzaCarmichael: thanks, and believe me – I'll continue. Hope you've enjoyed it so far.

ForensicsFreak1988: Awesome name, dude, was 1988 the year you were born? Well, actually, I've only been watch JAG for about a year now (as in, religiously for a year) – my parents kind of watched it here and there was I was growing up, but then I fell in love with it last Spring and watched reruns every day on the History Channel so I could catch up.

Cille: Hey, no worries, mate, I'm okay with no criticism (lol). And I'm definitely going to clarify the Vera – Chegwidden connection. There's a lot I haven't explained about Vera yet, I'm just one of those people that takes my own time to get around to do stuff. Lol – thanks for reviewing.

Snugglebug: hope you liked this chapter – I hope Full Throttle gets to be as long as your story but I highly doubt it'll be half that long! Lol

Reni-Maniac: I know what you mean, Clay was kind of a . . . well, he was scum in the ninth season when he started dating Mac – but he's just got way to good a character to be wasted on a villain! Hope you continue to read Full Throttle, thanks for reviewing.

Rocket Rain: don't sweat not reviewing the last chapter, I'm just glad you read it! Lol, thanks for the encouragement.

Xobabygurlxo: hey, thanks for the praise. I don't deserve it – but I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Starryeyes10: thanks!

Southerqt: yeah, you guessed EVERYTHING correctly! Lol, you're way too good. Anyways, yeah – your guess was the eventual story line. You know, plus assassins and general crisis along the way. No, but seriously, if you do have – at any point in time – suggestions for Full Throttle, I'm always open to them.

Roxruffin: yeah, I did have to split them up (I feel your pain). But don't worry, when they reunite it will be a wonderful, spending, and joyous occasion! (I'll celebrate too)

AB: You guessed it, next chapter – cliffhanger, I promise! (Oh, if you don't like cliffhangers . . . oh well, this chapter wasn't a cliffhanger.)

Vhosek malacath: Totally agreeing with you on the HM point. Harm and Mac forever!

Eggyweg: I'm kinda fond of the Clay/Vera thing too . . . it'll get a lot more entertaining though. Thanks for reviewing! (Praise always appreciated)

Jaggurl: thanks, I hope you liked this chapter!

Dansingwolf: I know I've said this before, but I just love Harm and Mac's body language. They really act well together, they go together. I try and keep that factor in this story, but it's just so hard to write that in! lol, thanks for reviewing. And if you have any suggestions for the story line, feel free to say them. I'm open to ideas.

Froggy0319: Hey, yeah, they didn't say 'I Love You' yet but they will . . . you know, down the road. Yeah, Mac has to go back to JAG – but that won't stop the HM romance.