1A/N: I'm SO sorry this chapter's taken so long! I told you about that little thing called school, right? Totally dampening my writing career . . . ah, what is my math teacher thinking? Assigning me all that homework . . .

Thanks go out 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, Britainy, MartiniMac, HighHeel Shoe Lover, Sirus 745, Fan, Pissed off Poet 1, southernqt, BrittanyLS, sugar230, K, Ilovemyselftoday, eggy weg, xobabygurlxo, Reni-Maniac, Cille, ForensicsFreak1988, HMtogether4ever, MaritzaCarmichael, Lara783, janessab, tizy, June, vrbinkaCZ, Cherise, DD2, Bekka, Lani-LoveNPain, Dessler, mommie, daisymh, Laura, confused, basketball babe8, Strawberry Kittens, rainydays502, S, Broesel, ady, Kristie, writingismything, TV Angel 711, TaTe.ArI.Obsessed.Writers, MiDushiNoSushi, Basketball Babe8, Alex, Angie, Toplesslemon, Jules, prinnie, CJKS, ninjagirl987, Brontesgirl, Jules, Angie Capriatti, lance corporal boils, freezepops, FoxyWombat, Lauren, Syraë, Acer-127, Concrete Angel, Lullaby, Fran, Judy52sa, kd, BelovedOne, and fic chic for your wonderful reviews! If I left anyone out, please let me know.

The Fate of Tomorrow

1642

Airplane

Vera's POV

I closed my eyes slowly, wishing the world away. My hand rested lightly on my swollen stomach, eyes fluttering as bright light filtered in slowly from the small window off to the side. Beside me I felt Clay shift in his chair, almost anxiously. He had a right to be worried. I should be worried. But right now I was numb. Numb on feeling, on life, on everything . . . it had been six months. Six months of nothing but his photo, no words, no letters, no emails . . . nothing. It had been insufferable. Intolerable. My feet were hurting, my limb ached, my feelings were on end, I was wondering how Mac could ever do this.

I leaned back my head against the rest. I was seven months pregnant, almost eight . . . it turns out I was pregnant over a month before I figured it out. Smart of me, huh? I sighed, shifting in my seat. Dammit, planes were uncomfortable. Especially eight hour flights.

"We're almost there," Clay whispered soothing in my ear, as he typed quickly on his laptop. "Fifteen more minutes."

I mumbled something under my breath as I turned around to look at Harm and Mac, who had seats a few rows back. It had been hell on Mac leaving Hunter with the Roberts. She never liked to be away from him long. And it was understandable. He wasn't even a year old yet, he still could fit in my palm. And it was probably very painful. I closed my eyes once again, praying it wouldn't be as hard for me.

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later we touched down, Clay leading us through the terminals quickly. He knew his way around pretty easy enough. "Come on," he instructed me, Harm, and Mac, "Jake will be waiting."

For a minute I'm surprised, but the shock is almost instantly dampened by the practicality. Of course Jake would pick us up. Who else would? I slowed my new erratic breathing. It's just Jake . . . the Jake I've known for years now. The Jake I know and . . .

"Hey."

My eyes flipped up. And there he was. Just . . . standing there. Maybe it's the fact that I haven't seen him in half a year, maybe it's the fact that photographs always make someone look small, but he almost seems to have grown. And the Italian sun has done him well. His skin is Indian-tanned, and his hair is back to his natural color – golden blonde. "Hey, yourself," I replied with false ease.

Jake grins at me, promptly scooping Mac up into a hurried hug, and then clasping both Harm and Clay roughly around the shoulders. I pause as he nears me, his hazel eyes capturing my own and then . . . he smiles at me, turning to Clay. "Well, we should be off."

I'm hesitant, but Harm agrees with a swift nod. For a minute there, I forget he's dead. But it doesn't matter. This is Italy. No one knows him . . . no one knows us . . . how very wrong I am.

"Hey, gang!"

My neck snaps so sharply to the left, as I see a very small blonde woman running towards us, a child's expression of ecstasy painted upon her face. And I can feel more than see Clay wince from beside me. My eyes sharpen, as I grimace, "Catherine."

1822

The Toro

Jake's POV

She moves smoothly, carelessly, as though unaware of my eyes on her. But I know better. And I know she knows it too. As hard as she tries to ignore my presence, I'm forever following. Just like as hard as she tries to press the fact on me that everything will be the same after this, I won't have it. Nothing will be the same. Nothing can ever be the same. Not any more.

We entered the hotel lobby looking rather like members of Ocean's Eleven – each action carefully planned, and completely in sync with each other's moves. Maybe it's because we've known each other so long. Or maybe because we share the same traumatic bond – Abbas. Whatever it is that ties us together the way it does, I'm grateful. Right now, the best tool is team work.

"Hi," Webb greets the receptionist stiffly. "Angelo Delicarti. Two rooms."

"Si," the receptionist smiled, handing him two keys and instructing him on the floors and elevators. My mind wandered . . . over to Vera. She was talking with Mac, engrossed upon examining every square inch of this place. In fact, the Toro was not the greatest hotel you could find. Among the many in Italy, the Toro paled in comparison. But it was homey, nicely fashioned, with terrific views of the golden fountain outside, and the piazza, which attracted more than enough tourists.

Clay led us up the sixth floor hallways, handing Harm and Mac their key. He turned to them, "I have some phone calls to make. I trust you two can . . . entertain yourselves."

Harm grins in the wild way he usually does. "I don't think that'll be a problem."

Clay turns back to me, "Watch over her."

The look on Vera's face clearly rebels every word he just spoke but I ignore her, as does Webb. "Not a problem."

And suddenly we're left standing there. Vera and I. Just . . . with each other. And it strikes me at that moment, profoundly that we haven't done this in a while. Just stood. Not even months any more, maybe a year, maybe two. We're so used to each other, so naturally with each other, that there's never been a necessity for this. Not until now.

"So, you going to show me your brilliant living quarters?" Vera suggested meekly. And I smiled at her in reply, though it was restrained – and she knew it. Dammit, she knew me so well. That was the problem with us. We've known each other for so long there's nothing more to find out. No other road to venture upon. But maybe that was the attraction. Just maybe.

It was a five minutes walk from the Toro to Ballando il Teatro dell'opera Leggero, which was spent in comfortable silence. Every so often my gaze would fly to her, the soft expression on her face melted with the stubbornness that just was Vera Azhad. And I found myself unconsciously smiling.

"What?" Vera asked slowly, her eyes studying mine with almost inhuman perception.

"Nothing," I breathed in response, my gaze falling upon her swollen stomach. She caught my glance.

"Not used to it, huh?"

I shrugged. "I'm not really used to anything anymore."

My statement seems to concern her. She frowns to herself, but says nothing, her eyes suddenly cast down at the pavement. I feel for her. Her past is not easy. Neither is Clay's. Or mine, my little voice added. Which was true. My life so far has not been a walk in the park. My mother is dead, my father abandoned me, and I've got a little brother who I haven't spoken to in years. Not that that was my fault . . . I mean, he's a reporter and I'm a – I was a – spook. They just don't mix.

"Here we are," I said softly, as I lead her up to the entrance of the Opera House. The wind whistled by us in an eerie sort of way, causing me to pull up my jacket a little, shivering at the slight frost that accompanied the wind. We both climbed over the closed wire fence as I approached the left wall, pulling up loose wooden boards.

"What are you doing?" Vera asked, squatting beside me and helping me shift the wooden planks.

"Entrance," I replied gruffly, piling all the wood to one side, revealing roughly hewn stone steps leading downwards. "You can go first. I'll put the boards back behind us."

Vera nodded and slipped down into the tunnel, I following almost immediately after. We wandered down the passage. "This was once used as a back stage pass," I said quietly, as darkness surrounded us. "A way to exit the theater. There were trap doors on the stage that the actors would disappear through at any moment. They'd then run down the passage, climb out the theater and then reenter."

"Are there any more of these?" Vera whispered from beside me, as my hands felt around the wall for the push up trap door. "Because, if so, Abbas could just as easily . . ."

"There aren't," I cut her off, pushing up the trap door and moving aside so she could climb up first. "Clay checked it out."

"Still . . ." Vera trailed but I silenced her with a glare.

I followed her up through the trap door, both of us momentarily resting on the large wooden stage. "Home sweet home," I muttered roughly, flopping down on the ground, staring up at the pale theater lights that hung above me.

"You actually lived here?" Vera asked incredulously, looking around the theater. It wasn't much lived in, that was true. I was pretty messy, but my objects were scarce. A few old newspapers I'd forgotten to throw out, some empty beer bottles, a thin pillow and a worn blanket were strewn over the wooden bench in the corner, and my backpack of worldly possessions was hidden behind the thick velvet curtain off to the corner.

"Still do," I sighed, flipping my legs over the edge of the stage and hopping down to the ground. "Ain't much but it serves its purpose."

Vera's eyes rested on me compassionately. "Why don't you stay at the Toro with us tonight?"

"Can't," I replied bluntly. "Not now."

"Jake," Vera whispered insistently but I ignored her.

"Want a drink?" I asked, reaching behind the curtain and pulling out my cooler.

Vera shrugged, "sure."

I threw her a can of Pepsi which she got deftly with her left hand. Pregnancy had not thrown her off in the slightest bit. I nodded towards her swollen stomach. "How many months?"

Vera sighed, leaning back against the theater floor. "Almost eight."

"Shoot."

Vera eyed me with a wry grin. "Well, after tomorrow we can all go home."

I cast a sour look at the ground, "if you can call it home."

Vera sighed, staring at me with undeserving compassion in her eyes. "You've got a home, Jake . . . wherever I am, you can call it home."

For a reason beyond the extent of my knowledge, this statement please me to my very core. "So what have you been up to these last six months?"

Vera rolls her eyes. "Oh, you know, hand to hand combat, saving the world, foiling universal terrorists . . ." I just stare at her. "I've been handcuffed to the couch for the last month."

I grinned at the heated expression on her face. "Won't you make a good housewife."

Vera glared at me, "for your information, I did finally learn how to do the laundry."

I clapped my hands, a sarcastic tone to my voice. "Bravo."

Vera scowled, "Shut up." We sit there on the theater floor in companionable silence for god knows how long before, " So how come you cut your hair?"

I look up at her. "Huh?"

"Your hair," Vera gestured over to my head. "It almost looks the way you had it when we first met."

God, that seemed so long ago. Barely even real. It's hard to imagine Vera as a little girl scared to go on her first mission, and me freshly cut loose from my family and recovering from my first fall. "Ah, it was longer back t hen." I ran my hand through the thin snippets of golden blonde locks that now covered my scalp. "Looked better."

Vera shrugged. "Blonde suits you."

"Thanks," I replied sarcastically.

"No, I'm serious," Vera returned contemplatively. "It does."

I shifted in my position on the floor. "Thanks."

We lapsed into silence again. And then –

"We should probably head back," I suddenly said, getting up, and extending a hand towards Vera who took it numbly. I pulled her to her feat. "You should have dinner."

"So should you," Vera argued.

"I'll have it."

"Here?"

"Yeah," I replied shrugging. "What's wrong with here?"

"What's wrong is that your dinner will probably consist of a bag of potato chips and don't even get me STARTED on healthy food," Vera replied, rolling her eyes and tugging my arm towards the trap door. "Now come have dinner with us."

"I'm supposed to be guarding . . ." I trail but Vera won't have it.

"Do you want me to drag you?" Her eyes flash dangerously. "And I'm a pregnant woman, by having me drag you will possibly harm your godchild."

I stop in mid-drag. "Godchild?"

Vera looks flustered for a moment. "Oh, well, it makes perfect sense, doesn't it? I mean, you're my best friend and you and Clay are close –" My face darkens considerably. "Oh, don't give me that, Jake, whatever's going on between you two is nothing serious. Besides, Jake," she turns to look at me with those beautiful dark eyes of hers, her voice soft and insistent, "you're the right person."

I avoid her eyes. "You wouldn't rather have Harm and Mac?"

Vera smiled at me. "Well, considering Harm's still legally dead, that poses a little bit of a problem and sticking Mac with two kids . . ." She turned back up to face me, "But none of that matters. Clay and I want you."

I feel something swelling within me but I suppress it forcefully. "Even Clay?" I asked nervously.

Vera's eyes meet mine. "Clay suggested it."

We both crawl back into the theater tunnel, keeping close together as I shift the planks off the entrance and help her up. The sun's just beginning to set, its rays dimming gently against the golden trees as we walked back to the Toro, my thumbs jammed in my pockets and Vera's hands swaying gently by her side.

"Hey, can you spare a minute before we go in?" I asked as we approached the Toro, the evening wind blowing gently against our faces.

"Uh, yeah," Vera replied as I lead her off the sidewalk and into the grassy fields beside us. "Jake, where are we going?"

"I'll show you," I whispered, taking her hand for the first time that day and leading her out onto the hill, recently dewed grass bending softly beneath our feet. The sky was now a sort of pale, creamy pink, with soft orange clouds drifting lazily across its face. I sighed as warm wind drowned the space between us, and I stood on the edge of the hill, my eyes scanning the Italian countryside. I grinned at Vera from beside me, who stood almost mesmerized by the view. Her dark eyes glazed over and for a minute I watched just her, not the view, but enjoyed it as much anyway. I smiled to myself, "this might be the last time we're standing here like this."

Vera's eyes snapped back to mine. "Don't talk like that."

My voice was grave. "One of us has to speak the truth."

Vera exhaled deeply. "Nothing's gonna happen to us, Jake."

"You don't know that."

Vera looks me square in the eyes. "Yes, I do know that. Because no matter what happens, Jake. You and me – we're always going to stand here like this." She motioned out to the little village that lay bellow the hills, the sun setting almost perfectly over the landscape. "We're always going to be this way. And nothing anyone throws at us is going to change that."

A deep silence settles between us as music from one of the open house windows floats in through the air. I recognize it almost immediately, and wince as the lyrics reflect upon me incredibly profoundly. I sway a little on the spot, my eyes closed, preserving this moment for all eternity.

It was your life that shined
Guiding my heart to find
This place where I belonged
It was your song

Vera smiled at me. "You really like the song, huh?"

I shrugged my shoulders. I'd never really thought that much about it before. "I guess so." She stared at me. "It has its attractions," I elaborate slowly.

Dreams can come true with
God's great angels like you

I smiled at that line. I loved it. I didn't care what anyone said. I loved the belief that there was a god, that there was a plan for us all. That whatever happened tomorrow, or the day after, or years and decades after was all destiny. That whatever the outcome, everything would be all right in the end. Because that was the way it was supposed to be. That's the way it is.

I closed my eyes briefly for a moment and then, "Whatever happens tomorrow, Vera . . ." I trail, looking at her with a profound intensity within my eyes. "I want you to know . . . I love you."

And Vera smiled in the way that only Vera could as she wrapped her arms around me and tucks her head neatly into my shoulder. "I love you too, Jake."

But I know she didn't mean it nearly the same way as I did.

An hour later

Veduta Dorata Restaurant

No POV

"Tomorrow's going to be one hell of a day," Clay said slowly, as his eyes met with Harm's and Mac's, Vera's and Jake's, Shapiro's and the Kid's. And everyone nodded. They all knew. The significance of this moment was lost on no one. Perhaps the only time they would ever be together again. The only time things would ever remain as it were.

And with that Clay raised his glass, up into the air where it met with a sharp clink, everyone else's. Clays took a sharp breath, "To us all . . ."

"And to the fate of tomorrow," Jake finished. Everyone's eyes met, and simultaneously they all nodded.

To the fate of tomorrow . . .

A/N: omg, soooo close to the ending. Ah, I'm panicking here people. Please review and calm my jittery nerves.

Bite Beccy: lol, you really haven't reviewed in quite a while, have you? And to answer your questions. Yes, Jane died – and she was shot with Jake standing right next to her. I said so some chapters back, but I think it was very brief. I know, I feel sorry for Jake too . . .

Sgcgirl52: lol, thanks . . . I know, I hate it when I have to write Jake like that. He's such a nice guy . . .

Syraë: I know, I don't want this fic to end either . . . actually, that was my reason for making a sequel. Cheating myself by just not letting go . . .

Strawberry Kittens: omg, I WILL choke up towards the ending, it's gonna be so hard to write, especially cuz I never want this fic to end! I want it to go on and on and on . . . well, I suppose that's what my sequel's for, right? Yes, I'm writing a sequel. I just can't let go. And maybe the ending will be crappy . . . I don't know. I once read this story – this JAG fic that I thought had an amazing, absolutely INCREDIBLE ending, but I read her reviews for that chapter and the majority of them said it sucked. I always thought it was absolutely brilliant, but others disagreed. Who knows? I'll probably get my fair share of controversy. I usually do. For every few goods there is a bad.

Prinnie: lol, you think your love life is non existent? Well, look at me – I sit in front of a computer all day dreaming up characters like Jake. Sorry, babe, I need him more than you do. Omg, you're a Kibbs? I would have never guessed . . . I'm a Tate. Lol, does that make us enemies or something? Not that it matters really, after the Twilight which I'm still refusing to accept, by the way . . . ah, you hate geog too? God, I detest it . . .

Brontesgirl: thanks, and seriously, there's like no point writing in six months of nothing, if you know what I mean. You've got to skip ahead to something good. Make's my job a lot more exciting. Lol

snugglebug: ah well, I think I'm over my writer's block. Or maybe just for this story. I'm still suffering on TLWL. I think it's been like a week since I've updated that story. How cruel am I? Oh well, I aim to finish Full Throttle first, anyway.

Alix33: ah, can't tell you whether the Roberts will raise Hunter or not . . . you'll have to read it and see (don't you just hate it when writers tell you that? I do – bugs me to death. But it's like some sort of code . . .)

Pissed Off Poet 1: hmm . . . okay, well to be honest, when I came up with the whole triangle thing, I always knew who would end up with Vera . . . but I did not expect Vera and Jake to be mirroring Harm and Mac so perfectly. I mean honestly, it never occurred for me to write it that way. It just sort of happened. Guess I've been writing a little too much HM stuff – now everything's starting to seem JAG-y. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Ahhh, school . . . let's put it this way – three days in, and I've already got more work than the rest of my class. No, it's not because I took more courses, just that my professor feels he needs to challenge me more, so I have three times as much work as everyone else. Okay, gonna shut up ranting now.

Starryeyes10: thanks

Lani: ah, I don't have AIM – I have MSN. Oh well, if you ever get MSN – email me! Ah, don't you hate homework? I've got like a million pounds of it . . . oh well, I'll just put it on hold for the minute . . . lol, hate math homework. Considering my parents are mathematicians, this stuff should be relatively easy . . . but it's not. Never is with me. I over think things too much.

Vhosek malacath: lol, a sequel will do, huh? I know I didn't have much HM in this chapter, blame the piles of homework I was assigned yesterday. But this is nearing the end so . . . it'll just be a whole lot of everything. No real way to describe it other than that – pitiful as the description is. Can't say any more or I'll give away the ending.

Odakota: yeah, yeah – that's right! It's classified. Totally Webb there. Ah, ending is so close! I'm seriously very pumped. Ah, to hell with my homework. Who cares if I fail? Actually, I think my parents would, considering they're paying thousands of dollars for my tuition. Yes, minor glitch the plan . . . oh well, only a few chapters more . . .

MiDushiNoSushi: It's very hard to tell with Jake like that. I mean, he told Mac about Vera . . . he told Mac about Jane. He remembers Vera, just like he remembers Jane. And considering Vera's still alive and Jane's been dead since thirteen years, it's pretty easy to see the power of his love. Then again . . . ah, I can't say. Giving away the ending . . . but let's just say everything seems to happen all at once and then well . . . all you readers will be shocked, I tell you. Shocked! Lol, I'm quite the actress.

JulieM: lol, I don't even try to please everyone . . . some people just don't dig what I write. That's cool with me. They don't have to read. It's only the ones that come back through each chapter complaining that get me annoyed. Glad to know you're really enjoying it though. And I hope you liked this chapter.

ForensicsFreak1988: lol, yes, Pirates of the Carribean . . . very random, but I'm in love with that movie so I demand Vera be too! It's much easier making characters like what you like . . . oh yes, and it does sound better as 'real me this, flyboy'. Wanna know the secret? Cuz that's the actual line. I just loved it when Mac said that to Harm in a Tangled Webb Part II when she was asking him why he resigned his commission to find her. And so . . . I dunno, seemed to work. Only of course, Jake doesn't fly . . . had to switch it up a bit.

Freezepops: lol, yes, Jane's dead. She was shot thirteen years ago. Died in Jake's arms. Oh, am I worrying you? Such a shame . . . (grins evilly) well, you'll just have to keep reading then . . .

Toplesslemon: well, I was posting fast . . .and then broke my streak with this lousy chapter. Lol, school - who ever invented that? Gotta hit them over the head some time for that one.

JamieAKAaclassyone: lol, I soo want to update TLWL, but I just really want to get Full Throttle out of my system. It's just, it's been in my head so long and now that I'm really close to the end I just want to . . . FINISH IT! (I never finish like anything I write) - oh yes, and just to tell you - if you've been invited to a C2 community, that doesn't mean you have to write for it, it just means that you can pick which stories to put in there. In that little review section, there's this place for add to the c2 community. That's how you do it. So, which ones were you invited to?

Beloved One: lol, thanks! And here's more . . . a little late, but better late than never. That's my motto anyway. And it would be, cuz I'm late for nearly everything.

TV Angel 711: I haven't forgotten about TLWL . . . just pausing it while I finish Full Throttle. I just wanna get it all out of my system. Then I'll update TLWL with like a really long make up chapter. JAG FOREVER!

FoxyWombat: lol, slacking off in school and fanfic . . . welcome to my life! And yes, it's fun sharing obsessions . . .me and my friends have a lot of them. It's always fun when you find someone who shares something weird like that with you. Okay, so none of my friends watch JAG . . . well, my one friend is desperately trying to catch up. We're such good friends she's watching the Tangled Webbs as we speak, just so she knows what's going on in my story (I've told her the whole story) now she wants me to tape Lifeline and the Adrifts. Which I really would do – if the episodes would just come on!

Froggy0319: yes, definitely doing a sequel . . . have to, there's going to be many unanswered questions at the end of this one. Most of which will be screamed at me with flaming balls of fire. But oh well. Again, that's what sequels are for . . .