Sorry for the delay. My laptop is now home and in fineworking order, so I'm going to waste no time in making up for the time you had to wait! Enjoy!

OOOO

Part 2

Trish was surprised when the phone rang at eleven o'clock at night, later that week.

"I wonder who that is," Frank commented, from where he was finishing up the paperwork he had brought home with him, that night. Thinking that it would most likely be somebody from work, he picked up the receiver of the phone, to find his Stepson on the other end of the line.

"Hi Frank," Harm greeted him, "Is Mom there? Could I speak to her, please?"

"Yes, of course," Frank readily told him, signalling to Trish, "How are you son, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Frank," Harm assured him, "I'm fine, just a bit jet-lagged, is all."

Then Frank passed the phone over and Trish anxiously questioned Harm,

"Darling? Are you all right? Where are you?"

"Easy there, Mom," Harm joked, then answered, "I'm fine, just jet-lagged. I'm doing okay, I've managed to settle in pretty well, considering how I'm so far away…"

"Where are you, Harm?" Trish was quick to repeat.

"I…I think I'd like some time just to get my head together, before I let that cat out of the bag just yet…Just know that I'm fine and that everything's going well. I've got a job with a private law firm, here. My new apartment is pretty nice and I'm even doing volunteer work on the weekends."

After continuing to reassure his Mother that all was fine, he carefully broached the subject about JAG, back in DC.

"So, you haven't heard anything from the Admiral, have you?"

"No, Darling, I haven't. But Frank and I are only just back from that trip to Florida. I might get a call in the next couple of days…Is there anything in particular that I should tell him?"

"No…no, nothing important…I just wondered if he had called, that's all."

"And if anyone else calls?" Trish questioned, gently, "What should I tell them?"

Harm nervously cleared his throat, then, getting himself together again, told his Mom,

"Uh…if Bud and Harriet or anyone else calls, just tell them as much as I've told you. Explain that I'm getting settled and I'll let everyone know when things have calmed down a bit."

"Do you have any idea when that will be?" Trish asked, gently.

"No…no, hopefully, sometime not too far away…"

But Trish could tell by his voice that it would be a long time before her son had 'settled down.' She had heard nothing about what had happened during his last trip abroad, to go and find Clayton Webb and his partner, Mac. The only thing he had told her, when he arrived home, just over a week before, was that he had managed to get Mac out without serious injury, but that Webb was in a serious condition in a hospital in Paraguay, awaiting approval to be flown home for further medical treatment. It was then that had he told her that he had actually resigned his commission to go in the first place. And now, he had told her, he was planning to go abroad and fill a position at a private law firm, which he had come across through an old friend of his. He had asked her not to ask any questions, but to just trust him on faith. And she had to do it. Goodness knows that he had been there for her when she had needed him, both after his Father had gone MIA and during other times in her life. She had total faith in her son, although she didn't like the thought of him moving to a foreign country, without her having any idea about where he was. But she trusted him. However, this didn't mean that she liked it. She only had to look into his eyes to see the reason why he was running away. His heart had been broken. Just like after he had lost his Father, his eyes seemed to take on that distant, empty look. Everything in her had been screaming at her to grab him, hold him, tie him to a chair if necessary, but to just prevent him from going. But she knew that she couldn't do that, because that would just corrode her ties with him further. She would be able to keep him closer by trusting in him and supporting him, even if he would be virtually a million miles away.

A quiet chat later, Trish bid her son good night and God bless, silently praying with everything in her that he would feel healed enough to tell her where he had gone, soon.

OOOO

It was a bright, sunny day, the next Saturday, when Trish heard the doorbell ring. Quickly slipping the rubber gloves off her hands and placing them back by the sink, she wandered through to find out who had come to call. She was surprised to find a familiar figure in a marine green military uniform standing at the door.

"Mrs. Burnett?"

"Why, Mac! Come in, darling…How have you been? I heard that you've had a pretty rough time, recently…"

She whisked Mac through the big house to the outside veranda, where she guided Mac into a chair, then asked that the housemaid bring some drinks through.

"Are you feeling okay, my dear?" she continued, concerned, "You seem a little peaky…"

"Oh, yes, Mrs B…Trish, I'm fine," she corrected herself at Trish's reproachful look.

The two of them had met on several occasions and Trish had always insisted on being called by her first name.

"I…I just came here to explain about…"

"You don't have anything to explain to me, my dear," Trish quickly interrupted, "My son's choices are his own. You shouldn't be blaming yourself for anything…"

"Trish," Mac requested, "When was the last time you saw Harm? I couldn't help but notice the things from his office that I saw boxed up in the hallway. It's just that Harm disappeared from the hospital in Paraguay, before I even had a chance to speak to him. Bud told me that he had been in contact to let everyone know that he was okay and on his way home. But by the time that I got back to work, his office and his apartment were cleaned out and the Admiral told me that he had resigned his commission. Why did he not come back? The Admiral hadn't even processed his resignation…"

"I have no idea why he decided to leave DC, Mac," Trish told Mac, regretfully, "All that he told me was that he had resigned his commission and that he was leaving DC. Ever since, he's refused to tell me where he is and only tells me to give him some time, to let things settle down. But I know that it's more than that…Tell me, am I right? Is he running away from something…from someone?"

Mac took a deep breath and nodded.

"Yes, I'm afraid that he is…And it's my fault."

Mac paused for a moment to get her thoughts together and Trish put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"You don't have to…" Trish assured her.

"No, I think that I do, Trish," Mac told her, "I feel like I owe it to Harm. Before I left for Paraguay, Harm and I had been having a couple of problems…It seemed like we were never on the same page, you know?"

Trish nodded. That sounded like her son, all right. She had always known that those two were meant for each other, but it seemed that they always managed to encounter one obstacle or another.

"Well," Mac, continued, "Before I left, I managed to get some time to talk to him. I wasn't allowed to tell him where I was going or what I would be getting into, but I'm afraid I did something terribly unfair…"

"Go ahead," Trish encouraged her and Mac continued.

"I backed him into a corner…I confronted him when he wasn't prepared…I accused him of never taking notice of my feelings when he had me in his life, only when I was preparing to leave it. And I walked out on him before he could respond to any of that."

"Oh," Trish nodded, understanding why this had all played out as it had. Her son was not the most articulate when it came to the loves in his life, particularly when confronted with the facts head-on. Sure, he had the gift of gab in the courtroom, goodness knew that he could sell snow to an Eskimo! But everything was different when it came to Mac and the feelings that Trish had always known that he harboured for her. She had pretty much given up on getting him to admit anything to her. How had this managed to go so wrong?

Mac continued, "Well, I had already asked him what he'd give up for me…I told him that there had been plenty of men who had given up everything to be with me…I guess that I kind of implied that he should, too…"

"And you think that is why he gave up his career! Mac, I doubt that he did what he did because of what you said," Trish objected, sceptically, "We all know how Harm feels about you and he'd give his whole life up in a second for you, without any prompting from anyone. He didn't need to be convinced. How can you think that this is your fault?"

"Because it is," Mac insisted, struggling to find the words, "Harm came to find me…Clay had been hurt really badly and even I was starting to think that he wouldn't make it out of there…Although I didn't realise Harm would see us, at the time, Clay told me something I didn't really know how to respond to, which Harm heard."

Trish nodded, understanding, "He told you that he loved you?"

After a rueful nod, Mac continued, "Well, he told me that he needed me. I responded in the only way I knew how…I kissed him…It was nothing like how Harm must have interpreted it, I only meant to give a dying man some comfort in his final hours…But Harm probably didn't perceive it that way it was meant and afterwards, I didn't know what to do about it."

"Did Harm say anything about it?" Trish questioned, gently.

"No, but I knew that he was thinking about it and it was just so hectic after that and I didn't know what to say…Then we crashed in that plane…I didn't even come to until I was in hospital…I didn't know if he was alive or dead, until I managed to get out of bed and check at the nurse's desk. By that time he had already left the hospital. I got the call from Bud, the next day to say that Harm was on his way home…"

By now, Mac was on the verge of tears and Trish pulled her into her warm, comforting arms.

"Oh, Darling," she comforted Mac, "Don't get so upset…We'll work this all out. It may take some time, but I promise that we'll get through to my hard-headed son, one way or another."

OOOO

Mac felt physically and mentally exhausted by the time that she arrived back in DC, that night, but she knew that there was something that needed to be done, whether she felt like it or not. Early that morning, after her flight had taken off for La Jolla, Clay had arrived home on an emergency flight from Paraguay. Bud had assured her, when she had checked in later on, upon her arrival in La Jolla, that he was fine, in a stable condition and being well cared for by the medical staff at Georgetown Hospital. There was so much that had remained unsaid between her and Webb and she owed it to him to explain exactly what she had meant, during those few weeks in Paraguay.

However, Mac found that she didn't have a whole lot of explaining to do.

As she walked into Clay's room in the hospital's high-dependency unit, Clay looked straight up at her as she walked though the door, as if he had known that she was coming.

"Hi there," she greeted him, quietly, "How was your journey home?"

"Don't remember a whole lot," he admitted, chuckling, weakly, "Slept through most of it."

"You feeling okay?"

"Yeah…Just feel like a truck hit, me…I wondered how long it would be before I saw you coming through those doors."

"Webb," Mac spoke up, "I've got some things that I need to explain to you…"

"No, you don't," Webb insisted, the strength in his voice taking Mac by surprise.

On a softer note, he continued, "Everything you felt, or rather, didn't feel, was perfectly obvious to me during those few weeks in Paraguay. I was just deluding myself into believing that you felt the same way. And that kiss told me just that, if not more. I understand, Mac."

"I…I don't know…I do care for you, Clay…Just…"

"Just not in the same way that you do about Rabb," Clay finished off for her, "Yeah, I understand, Mac. I've always known that you and Rabb are destined for each other."

"I don't know about that," Mac cut in, "It's not exactly meant to be, when we're not even in the same country and he's refusing to talk to me."

"Since when has that ever stopped the two of you? Remember when Rabb went to Russia to find his Father? You went after him that time."

"But I was on the same flight as him," Mac pointed out.

"Or when he took off to Russia again, then went to Chechnya to go and find his Brother. You managed to find him, that time."

"I knew where he was going. And I had a lot of help," Mac interjected.

"Did you know where he was when his plane went down in the Atlantic?"

"No, but I had a good geographical idea."

"Rabb's gone after you too, Mac. If this is as important to you as I know it is, then you'll figure out a way."

"I don't know, Clay," Mac replied, morosely, "Even his Mom doesn't know where he is. He won't even tell her."

"Sounds to me like he just needs some time on his own," Clay reflected, "You just have to be patient, Mac. He'll let you know, when he's ready."

"But when will that be?" Mac questioned, frustrated.

"How am I supposed to know?" Clay laughed, jokingly.

Getting in on the joke, Mac teased him, "And you call yourself a spook! You're really slipping, Webb!"

OOOO