0352 hours
San Antonio, Texas
Her internal clock was busted, Mac decided when she had to actually look at the watch that usually sat useless on her wrist to find out the time. Or maybe, she thought, it was the not sleeping for so long that was messing her up. Logically she knew it was the latter, but she couldn't get her mind to shut down.
The investigation had been dragging on for ten very longdays.
After hanging on to life for over a week, Ryan Wade had died four hours and twenty-six minutes earlier.
Suddenly their hit and run—that already had too many loose ends and confusing stories—had become a homicide.
Meg had gone to the airport to pick Harm up while Mac spoke to the doctors about getting full access to Ryan Wade's medical records. The hospital had been dragging their feet, only giving her the details relevant to the accident, but a full account of Ryan's records would be required to go any further on the inquiry.
The ranch was silent, save for Mac's room where the TV was on, filling the silent room with some background noise, but Mac didn't even know what channel she had the television on. She just needed something other than the sound of pages turning to keep her company until she could talk the case out with Harm and Meg, which she knew wouldn't happen until late morning at the very least.
After reading over the transcripts of every interview for the hundredth time, Mac started over with her original interview with Miller.
And that's when it hit her.
Mac frowned. "The car went over the boy?"
SanAntonio International Airport
0413 hours
San Antonio, Texas
Harm grabbed his bag out from the overhead compartment and joined the line of people waiting to deplane. He was exhausted, exhilarated, and nervous as hell.
He hadn't slept more than five hours in the last two weeks. Harm was lucky that the last six days of training had been tests for the new pilots, which meant that he didn't have to fly with them, or he would have probably killed someone.
The flight from LAX to San Antonio International had been quiet, and, though he had tried to get a few hours sleep, he hadn't been able to do more than close his eyes against the dim flashlight the little girl next to him was playing with. Her mother had fallen asleep before takeoff, leaving the girl, who was probably no more than four, to entertain herself.
"You look like hell, Harm," Meg said with a warm smile as she hugged him.
"That's good, 'cause I feel like shit," Harm replied.
Meg smiled as she shook her head. "When was the last time you slept?"
"Not sure, exactly," Harm said, fighting back a yawn.
"That's not a good sign," Meg frowned. "Do you have any other luggage?" Harm shook his head, unable to stop the yawn that broke through. "Okay, come on. It's about time I got you into bed."
"If I wasn't so tired I'd have to declare a red light, Meg," Harm teased.
"Right, Harm, my intentions for tonight are to take advantage of you in your weakened state, to seduce you while you're in a bedroom between my dying mother and the woman you're hopelessly in love with," Meg said, rolling her eyes. While the thought of taking advantage of the hunky sailor was slightly appealing—more the hunky sailor than the taking advantage part—jumping Harm's bones when she knew that he was in love with Mac and Mac was in love with Harm was not something she could ever even consider doing. She helped him into the car and they chatted while she drove them back to the ranch.
"Hasn't changed much," Harm commented as they pulled up in front of the house.
"Nothing surface-y, anyway," Meg agreed. "Come on. Mac's probably still up," she said as she got out of the car.
Trudging inside the house, Meg showed Harm to the room he had stayed in when he had visited before, reminded him where everything was, and then said, "Mac is right in there. Night, Harm."
Harm smiled at his former partner's antics as he dropped his bag on the bed in the guest room that he knew Meg always made sure was ready for him, should he come to visit. He changed out of the clothes he had travelled in and pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a worn tee shirt before he padded out of his room and stood in front of the door to Mac's room.
Tapping his knuckles lightly against the oak door, Harm gently turned the knob and pushed the door open. He could hear the television droning on and the quiet scratch of pen on paper, so he knew she was still awake.
"Attention; male officer on deck," he teased, causing Mac to jump.
"Damn it Harm," she said before dropping her pen and going over to him, hugging her partner tightly. He returned the embrace and they lingered in each other's arms for several minutes. "I missed you," Mac admitted shyly.
"I missed you, too," Harm said before dropping a chaste kiss on the top of her head. Mac snuggled in closer, burying her face in the curve of his neck. "I'm really sorry, Mac."
"Don't," Mac said, pulling back and pressing a finger to his lips. "We're good, Harm. You don't have to apologize anymore." She snuggled back into his arms, not wanting to lose the feeling of home that his scent and his embrace gave her.
Harm relaxed, gripping Mac a little tighter. They stood there for a long time before Harm realized that she had fallen asleep against him. He couldn't stop the smile at knowing she was asleep in his arms—though he wished they weren't standing when it happened.
Carefully as he could, Harm got Mac into bed, tucking her in and brushing his lips over her forehead before turning off the television and the lights and moving to leave. As much as he wanted to stay and hold Mac all night long, he didn't want to risk angering his beloved Marine, so he left her in her room and went back to his own, falling asleep with her scent lingering on his clothes.
The Ranch
1038 hours
San Antonio, Texas
It was well after ten the next morning before anyone woke up. Mac was up first, and she busied herself in the kitchen, making coffee and attempting to make breakfast—diligently mindful that Harm was there and an all-meat breakfast was out.
"Morning," Meg said through a large yawn as she came into the kitchen wearing a tank top and men's pyjama pants.
"Morning," Mac replied, already pouring two cups of strong coffee. "Sleep well?"
"Fairly," Meg said, gratefully taking the mug Mac offered. "You? Did you actually get any sleep last night?"
"Quite a bit, actually," Mac smiled.
"So the insomnia was Harm-based," Meg smiled.
Mac blushed. "Maybe a little. Or a lot. I get so worried when he gets around Tomcats. But I've had insomnia since I was a kid. Whenever I have a big case or when I know I'm going to have to deal with something huge or… when I'm worried about someone I care about as deeply as I care for Harm… I don't sleep. It's something I've been dealing with since I was little," Mac said, and that was the end of the discussion.
Harm came down a few minutes later, screwing up his nose at the sizzling meat-products. "How can you two eat that crap?" he asked as he poured himself some coffee.
"Easily. Open mouth, insert food, close mouth, chew, swallow. Same way you eat your rabbit food," Mac said with a sassy smile.
"Cute doesn't work with me, Marine," Harm said, shooting words she had said to him after making up from their very first fight.
"I wasn't being cute, I was being funny," Mac shot back, using the words he had used to respond to her on that night so many years ago.
Meg groaned loudly. "It's far too early to watch you two flirting. I'm going to take a shower," she declared before leaving with her coffee still in hand. Harm and Mac avoided eye contact with each other until Mrs. Austin's nurse came in with fresh medical supplies in hand.
JAG Headquarters
1234 hours
San Antonio, Texas
Later, sitting in the conference room that had been covered in files and papers that were organized in Mac's usual manner, Meg and Mac took turns filling Harm in on the case. He already knew the big picture—eight-year-old boy killed by massive trauma caused by impact with speeding motor vehicle driven by Naval officers—but he didn't know the details, and it was the details that were what made up the big picture.
After playing the tapes of their interviews with all involved parties, going over the medical reports and the results the lab had given them on the blood that was found on the car, and outlining the theories they had already worked through, Mac brought up her late-night revelation.
"I didn't think much of it before, but Miller said that Ryan went under the car," Mac said.
"So?" Meg frowned.
"So we need to take a look at the car," Harm said, knowing where Mac was going with her line of thought.
Crime Lab Garage
Active Case Storage Centre
1305 hours
San Antonio, Texas
Glad she had chosen not to wear a skirt that morning, Mac knelt down to peer under the car. She had a flashlight in her hand that helped some, but it was hard to make out some of the key things she was looking for.
"You gonna tell me what we're looking for, or am I supposed to guess?" Meg, who was kneeling down next to her, asked.
"Miller said that the boy went under the car, that it felt like going over a speedbump," Mac said, standing up and dusting off her knees. "Ryan Wade would have come up to here," she said, holding her hand about two feet off the top of the front bumper, "if he was standing up to his full height. Considering the speed Miller claims they were averaging and Ryan's height… he should have been thrown up over the hood and into the windshield like an adult would. But he was dragged under, like a small animal would have been."
"So… he wasn't standing?" Meg asked.
"He couldn't have been," Harm said. "If he had been standing when he was hit, he would have done up over the hood and smashed into the windshield or gone over the top of the car."
"Why didn't anyone comment on this before?" Meg frowned, frantically searching the results they had been given from CSI on the car.
"It was commented on," Mac said. "The windshield was intact, the hood wasn't damaged, and all the blood that was found was under the car and on the lower half of the front bumper. But we've been focusing on what Miller and Lleavaier did. People investigating their first case don't go at things from as stilted a point of view as we have," she said. It was obvious she was kicking herself for automatically making assumptions about the case and running with them.
"Have we got anything on the boy that doesn't pertain to the accident?" Harm asked, hoping to distract both Meg from her anger with herself and Mac from her self-recriminations.
"You're thinking that it wasn't an accident?" Meg asked.
"I'm thinking that we've got square pegs and round holes so maybe it's time to start thinking outside the box," Harm said.
Madhouse Family Restaurant
2119 hours
San Antonio, Texas
Thinking outside the box, it turned out, had the lawyers all over town, frantically trying to find the truth under all the secrets and lies. Mac couldn't help but think that it was a little like dealing with Clayton Webb and his CIA 'I would tell you but then I'd have to kill you or make you pay through the nose for the rest of your natural life' crap. You had to dig down through about a mile of subterfuge, a few yards of dead ends, and several feet of just plain bullshit to get even a glimpse of the truth. However, unlike their encounters with Clay, what they were doing in San Antonio wasn't putting their lives on the line and they knew they were looking for the truth behind the case and not the truth behind what brought them to the case. That was a comfort, no matter how small.
Knowing the score was sometimes half the battle.
They had decided to call it a night around nine and were going to get a late dinner before going back to the ranch and crashing, but Meg got a call from her CO 'requesting her presence' which was easily translated to 'get your ass in my office now!' so she begged out of dinner, leaving them with the car and saying she'd try to meet up with them at the restaurant.
Harm and Mac had no problem with the idea of dining together, especially after a two-week separation.
After sitting down at the table and ordering drinks—two Cokes—Mac looked at Harm, trying to decide if she should just jump right in an start asking questions or if she should ease into the conversation.
Harm, however, was never the look before you leap type, and jumped right in with a question of his own. "What made you take this case, Mac? Was it assigned to you, or did you just want to get out of DC or what?"
Mac shrugged slightly. "I was a little pissed at you for leaving like you did, and I had this really strong urge to take that sledge hammer you used to knock out a wall in your place to trash everything you owned. Fortunately Harriet asked me to baby sit little AJ so your belongings are, as far as I know, still intact," Mac said. "Meg called the Admiral, wanting your help, actually, but since you were playing Professor Pilot-Guy he told her to call me. And when she told me what was known about the accident… I don't know. There was something that bugged me. So I took care of my pending cases and got on a plane."
"Why would she want my help?" Harm frowned.
"Well, for one, because she's worked with you before and knows that you're good at what you do," Mac said. Harm blushed slightly and Mac wondered if it was because of the compliment—which didn't make sense to her because she knew he knew he was good at his job and she had said that to him before—or because the compliment was coming from her—which she hoped was the case. "And, also, because she misses you," Mac continued.
"Meg is too professional to let long-distance friendships determine who she partners herself with," Harm said.
"Whatever," Mac shrugged. "So, what was it like, flying again?" she asked. She knew she was torturing herself, but she had to know.
"It was… fun, but not something I can see myself getting serious about again," Harm said honestly. "Like I said on the phone, Mac, flying Tomcats is not who I am anymore, and I'm alright with that. I knew that flying wasn't my destiny when I came back from the Patrick Henry."
"But being a JAG lawyer is?" Mac asked.
"I don't know if it is," Harm admitted. "But I love my job, I love my friends, I love working with you, and for the first time in years I'm… happy with where my life is heading."
"Then that's all that matters," Mac said with a smile. "And, for the record, I love working with you, too."
"I figured, but it's good to hear once in a while," Harm said, flashing her one of his famous smiles.
The waiter brought their drinks and they decided it was time to crack the menus. Mac decided on a thick steak and a Cesar salad while Harm opted for grilled salmon and rice pilaf.
Once the waiter had left and they were alone again, Mac said, "Why have you never told me that you kept in touch with Meg?"
Harm tensed up and then found a way to control his expressions and said, "I never really thought about it. I mean, it's not like you don't have other friends, right? You've kept in touch with people you worked with before. And you don't always tell me about those aspects of your personal life."
"True," Mac conceded. "I… I'm sorry," she said gently. "I'm not sure why it bothers me so much. That you never told me. Maybe… maybe it's because anytime I ask anyone anything about Meg I get something along the lines of 'she was a great lawyer' or 'I wish she didn't transfer out like that… no offence, Mac' and even though I've been at JAG for several years and she was only there for ten months I'm still treated like a temp."
"No one treats you like a temp, Mac," Harm said, reaching out and covering her hand with his own. His touch was electric and Mac turned her hand over so that their palms were pressed together. "I have never thought of you as a temp or a replacement or anything like that. You're my partner and my best friend and I'm really sorry if I've don't anything to make you think otherwise."
"It's not so much you, Harm. You're great, really, and I know you don't think of me as a temp or anything like that," Mac said. "It's just… I don't know. Besides you, Bud, Harriet, and the Admiral I don't really… I mean… I'm not too great at the whole 'being friends' thing. Growing up I was more or less alone until I met Eddie and we were only drinking buddies… and then Chris was… I don't even know what he was… and then I was a Marine and you're not exactly encouraged to become friends with the people you're fighting beside because then emotions get involved and if something happens to them you react emotionally instead of rationally…" she trailed off, closing her eyes tightly for a moment. "Honestly, Harm, you are the first true friend I've ever had. You've stuck by my side through so much. My relapse, Mic, all the horrible work shit… you're always there for me. And… maybe I'm scared."
"Of what?" Harm asked gently, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.
"I'm scared that you'll realize that you miss working with Meg, that you want her to be your partner again," Mac said. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. "That I'll be forgotten."
Harm got up and moved so he was kneeling beside Mac's chair. He pulled her down so she was sitting on his knees and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. "That will never happen, Sarah," he said firmly. He made sure she was looking into his eyes. "Never," he repeated.
"But—"
"No," Harm said, putting a finger to her plump lips, silencing the Marine. "You are my partner, Mac. I do miss working with Meg, but she has a life here and even if she were to come back to DC I wouldn't stop working with you. And the only way I could possibly forget you is if I get amnesia, and even if that highly unlikely event does come to pass I know you'll be right by my side until I remember every fight and every smile." Moving his finger from her lips he used his hand to dry the tears that had started trailing down her cheeks. "It's time to face facts. You, Sarah Catherine MacKenzie, are stuck with me for the rest of your life."
Mac buried her face in his neck. "I like the sound of that, sailor," she whispered as she hugged Harm with all her strength.
Their waiter came over with their food, but saw the embrace and turned on his heel, heading back to the kitchen.
They stayed that way for a few more minutes before Harm's legs began to protest loudly and he reluctantly eased Mac back up into her chair. He dropped a lingering kiss on her forehead and made sure that all tear-tracks were erased with his tender caresses before taking his own seat again. The waiter reappeared and placed their food in front of them before slipping away, virtually unnoticed.
"I'm sorry, Harm. I don't know why I suddenly broke down like that," Mac said, her flawless skin turning a deep red.
"It's like I told you when we were in the Appalachians," Harm said. "Stress needs an outlet. And, apparently you've been living with this particular fear for a long time, so you were headed for a major meltdown. I'm just glad you didn't run away from me when it happened."
Mac smiled sadly. "I hate it when you see my cry," she admitted.
"Well, I'm not saying I enjoy you being in pain, because I don't," Harm said. "It kills me to see you hurting so much, Mac," he said, reaching across the table and cupping her cheek tenderly. Mac leaned into his hand. "But it means so much to me that you feel safe enough around me to let your guard down, to let your emotions come through. Knowing that you trust me that much means the world to me."
"I trust you with everything I have, Harm," Mac said softly. "My work, my emotions, my thoughts, my feelings, my worries, my life."
"What about your heart?" Harm asked before he could stop himself.
The next update is almost finished. Please let me know what you think about this chapter. Oh, and the rating on this may change... I'm honestly not entirelysure where my muse is taking the Harm and Mac relationship. It might be in a continued friendship, it might be in opposite directions (though I doubt it) or it might be the bedroom... for now only my muse knows what's going to happen in upcoming chapters.
M