Just wanted to say a quick "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Hanukah" to all of you. And thanks for reading this.

- Instinctive Action -

I watch as the day's first rays of light filter in through the window, slowly creeping over the wall. When I came back last night I didn't bother to shut the blinds before settling for the night. They are still the way Mac left them in the morning or even the night before. So with sleepy eyes I now watch as the breeze outside lets the shadows of a tree dance against the light color of the wall.

I lie in her bed, facing the open door between our rooms and my bed just opposite me. But I can't look there, so instead I stare at the tiny patterns of light and shadows. There is absolutely no logical reason as to why I can't look at – nor sleep in, for that matter – my bed. This is absolutely emotional. Only 24 hours ago Mac was there with me, lying in my arms, her soft and even breathing like music in my ear. These two mornings feel like they are worlds apart. And somehow it was easier to slip into her bed last night when I was all by myself. I don't know why though, because this bed, even more so then the other, holds a hint of her scent. I can smell it when I bury my nose in the pillow.

For long hours I waited for sleep to overtake me, to escape from reality, at least for the hours of the night. But my mind kept pondering those questions I tried to answer all day long. Where is she? Is she okay? Who might have taken her and why? But just like all day I found no satisfying answer.

And when I at last drifted off into sleep it didn't ease my mind as I hoped it might. Images of her smile as well as images of what might have happened to Mac raced through my mind. So it was a fitful slumber at best. Maybe some disturbed two or three hours at most, before the horn of a passing car woke me up way before dawn, resulting in the fact that I kept staring at the increasing amount of light that floods in through the window.

Every other time I might have liked the minute drawings on the wall but right now they hold nothing beautiful. For everything seems dull when my mind concentrates on nothing but Mac and that she isn't with me. I've had days like these before. Especially during those days or rather weeks we were hardly on speaking times. But back then it had been different. I've been secretly in love and it was my fault that I was in that misery. However, now it was neither her nor my fault.

I must have drifted off to sleep once more because when I open my eyes and focus on the sunlight after what just felt like seconds, the light has moved further up the wall, now covering a larger area. Wanting to turn on my back I find that I hug the pillow close to me, my nose filled with the remnants of her perfume. For a moment I feel like she's here with me. Furthermore there's this other feeling somewhere in my subconscious mind that during these last minutes of sleep I got closer to finding the answer I've been searching for. Yet I can't seem to keep hold of it. Like a fading dream it slips from my grip every time I reach out for it.

Finally I give up, surrendering to a fading dream. Reluctantly I let go of the pillow, which easily might have distracted my senses and conjured this feeling in the first place, and get out of bed.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

My office is silent except for the returning noises from the nearby runway, roaring engines of the starting squadron – my training squadron that is. Twenty young pilots starting on a new mission, to gain more points for the Top Gun trophy. I wish I could be out there with them, sitting in my F14 and pushing them to their best. But I'm stuck here behind my desk with things in a deadlock and with nothing to do, not even paperwork. I wish I were able to do something, anything.

Leaning back in my chair, I turn slightly to look at Harm. He stands at the window looking outside. I can tell that he wants to do something about the situation as much as I do. I can see it in the way his shoulders are slumped, clearly showing that the situation rests heavily on his shoulders. From the short time I've known him, I understood that Harmon Rabb isn't a man to just stand by and wait for something to happen. He has to take part in it, has to be the first in line. A brief image of Mac passes my mind as I think of the Marines that always want to be the first in line. These two belong together like nothing I've ever seen. And without her he isn't complete. I might not have known him long, yet I can tell that Harm is different when Mac is around, that somehow she adds something to him, that isn't there now, that he has lost his spirit maybe, or only his lightheartedness. Whatever it is I hope he gets it back soon, as the man whose back is now turned towards me looks torn.

Suddenly a sigh escapes his lips and he heavily slams his fist down onto the windowsill, yet he doesn't speak.

"Harm?"'

"I'm tired of this," he says, turning around to lean against the window behind him.

I nod my head, I know he is and there's nothing to say about it. I understand how he feels, how it is to feel helpless.

"I'm tired of waiting for something to happen. I need to be out there, searching for Mac. I need to get her back. How am I supposed to remain sitting here and do nothing?" His voice sounds angry, but I know that it's more despair than real anger.

Tiredly Harm rubs his closed eyes with his right hand. I doubt that he got much sleep last night.

"Did you sleep at all last night?"

With his eyes still closed he softly answers, "Not much."

For a moment I'm surprised that he so willingly answered with what I believe to be the truth.

I know that what I'm going to say next will do nothing to help him, yet I feel like I need to say it, to make him understand that it isn't his fault that he isn't out there searching for the woman he loves.

"Waiting is all we can do right now, Harm. Wait till NCIS finds her or at least a hint we can follow."

"What if they don't find her? Am I supposed to wait forever, to never know?" He shakes his head. "I can't do that again. Not with Mac. She is my life, Maverick," Harm says in a small voice.

He leans his head back against the glass for a second, then pushes himself up from the windowsill and starts to walk across the room. He comes to a halt on the opposite wall in front of the side board. He leans forward slightly, placing his hands on the furniture, hanging his head.

"There must be something I can do."

I get up from the chair I've been sitting in and close the distance between us. I stop right next to him, our shoulders almost touching.

"Harm –" I start but am interrupted by him.

"There always is. There's been when I went to Vietnam to search my dad. There was when Mac went to Paraguay. There is even something we could do about this whole baby deal."

I know what he refers to concerning his father, but I'm lost at what the rest of his rambling means.

Placing my hand on his shoulder, I softly say, "Harm, I know it's hard to accept –"

Once again his voice interrupts me. "You wouldn't be saying this if it was your wife being gone. You would try everything to find her, wouldn't you?" His eyes settle on me.

I nod my head, yes I would. And I wouldn't listen to whoever told me my attemps were in vain. I would ignore everybody until I found her. Therefore it pains me even more to keep telling Harm the truth, to see his growing despair.

"See, I'm not saying we can do absolutely nothing, we might be out to find her as soon as in a few minutes. But for now we've run out of ideas. We don't know where to look, do we?"

Harm straightens under my touch so my hand slips from his shoulder and loses contact. His eyes divert from me and settle on the wall in front of him instead. For a moment he doesn't move.

But all of a sudden he points his finger at a spot on the wall, which is covered with an area map of the NAS Fallon and the town.

"There, this is what we can do. We will go there," Harm exclaims, his voice sharp and strong.

"What?" I don't understand what he is trying to tell me. Why we needed to go to a randomly chosen – as this is how the point on the map looks to me – place in the town of Fallon.

"We should check this block out. There is something about this area."

"How do you know? Have you ever been there?"

Harm reads through the map before he finally shakes his head, no.

"Then why the heck do you want to go there? You know, doing something irrational wouldn't help you find Mac." I realize that this came out angrier than I intended it to be, but Harm totally confused me with his latest actions and they do seem pretty irrational to me.

"Fine, you can sit here and wait. I'll go there and have a look around," Harm answered defensively but certainly somewhat enraged.

I raise my hand to stop him before he could turn around and walk out on me. "I'm coming, but could you at least try to explain to me how you came up with this idea."

Harm sighed and then slightly nodded his head.

"Did I tell you how they found me that night I crashed into the Atlantic?"

"No, both you and Mac simply told me that it was the night before her wedding."

"Yeah, well," he starts, then hesitates, looking spaced out for a moment. I wonder what he remembers. "Mac found me."

"Mac found you? She was out there?" This only gets more and more confusing.

"No. She was in Washington. But she'd seen me, told the SAR crew the coordinates." Okay so now I'm convinced this is some crazy idea, born of a desperate mind.

I must have shot Harm a skeptical glance as he continues, "You know, Mac has this ability." Another pause, as if he searches for another, a better word to describe it. "She sees things."

"So Mac is a medium, with paranormal talents?"

Harm shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know how to explain it, even though I experienced it first hand. But Mac found me in the middle of a stormy nowhere. And she found her little sister in the same way."

I shake my head to absorb everything I've heard so far. This sounds so odd, yet I already know about Mac's time-telling ability. So maybe; I just don't know.

"Look Mav, I know this is hard to believe. Yet I can't believe any different cause I owe my life to this ability of Mac's."

"Harm, I'm not sure what I should think about Mac being able to do this. But I know the both of you and that you somehow connect on a different level. I also believe that there is an especially strong bond between you, a bond that might have helped Mac to locate you. Yet still I don't see how this could help us now. Now that we need to find Mac. Unless you are able to trace her location as well," I reason with a calm voice.

"I won't pretend that I know how this works, or that I have ever found someone that way. All I know is that I have a gut feeling, that we should check this out." He taps his finger at the place on the map he'd pointed out before. "It's not that we have anything important to follow," he justifies, trying to plead his case.

"Okay," with a glance at his face, which looks desperate and pleading, I give in. What is there to lose? "But one thing I'm curios about though. How come you and Mac have a mental connection that strong that she can find you in the middle of an ocean, yet neither of you could figure out the other's feelings?"

Harm shakes his head again. I'm not sure, but I might have caught a whispered "If only I knew", when Harm turns around and starts to head for the door.

I throw a quick glance at the map to remember where we need to go before I head after him, grabbing my cover on the way out.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

When I wake later than usual again, I find that the room is dark once more. I take this as a sign that the guy must be back. The mysterious man, that I only know by voice, a voice I'm sure I've heard only recently, maybe even connected to this case. So once again I close my eyes and try to solemnly focus on the voice. I manage to conjure pictures of men I've met, try to remember their voices and compare them. But none of these matches. I still haven't got any clue on who had taken me and why.

Then another thought invades my mind; has he already realized, that I peeled away some of the wall covering and had a brief look at what lies outside?

I get my answer as soon as I try to get up from the bed, for I can't. My hands are bound to the bed frame above my head. Arching my back I try to have a glance at them. They are tied at the wrists, a little over shoulder width apart. Around the right one wraps a red bond, from the feel of it it's silken, a scarf maybe. The other is wrapped with something yellow – it looks old and well used. Both hands are fixed to the bed identically, the bands running around my wrists a few times before they tie in a knot close to my arm, just so that I can't reach it with my fingers. So that is why I haven't felt the cold metal before, the bonds protect my skin from the contact.

When finally my back screams in protest due to the odd position I'm in, I relax and lie flat on my back again. Closing my eyes I concentrate on my attached hands. I wriggle them here and there, but there's no way of loosening the knot – it keeps a tight fit, just enough that I can move my hands a few inches around the two upright bars they are tied to.

Thinking about it, I realize that there indeed must have been something in either the food or the water I got yesterday. Otherwise I would have noticed somebody tying my arms. And it's all the more reason for me to wake up this late.

After a while I stop my movements. They are in vain, I don't make any progress. Yet lying still wouldn't help me either. But after some time I have another idea. If I could somehow manage to turn around to actually face my bound hands, I might be able to open the knot with my teeth. Thus I slowly roll over onto my stomach, crossing my arms in the process. Thankfully they are bound in a way that my wrists don't snap. Next I push my hands to the highest position I can reach, just where the upright bars meet the horizontal one. After that I slowly pull one leg towards my chest, then the other. In a procedure that isn't exactly painless I finally manage to come to sit in front of the bed's headboard, my legs crossed Indian style.

Almost immediately I lean forward for the first of the two knots. Yet this is the moment I hear something that makes me stop.

I turn my head to look at the door, the one place where that sound could have come from. I steel myself for what I expect to happen next. For I am sure, that my kidnapper has come for me, figuring that tying me to the bed isn't enough punishment. I can't help but be reminded of Paraguay, even though this situation is different. But once you have experienced something that cruel, the slightest resemblance, the slightest hint of something similar to happen, makes your remember it all.

But whatever I expected isn't what I see. What I see shakes me to the very core.

"Harm," I whisper breathlessly.

There is nothing more I can think of, when I see the man I love standing in the door. All the relief and the fear – though I won't admit it to anyone besides myself – comes crushing down on me the moment I know he's here.

"Mac!" His voice is louder than mine, more rushed.

With a few quick strides he's by my side, dropping down on his knees next to the bed. His hands move up to frame my face. I instantly feel their warmth spread through my whole body. I lean into his touch as much as I can.

After a long while that we just sat there, Harm leans in and his lips contact mine. What started as a sweet hello quickly speaks of all the passion and our feelings, of how much we missed the other, and not only this last day but all these years and it tells me about the fear that we both had, that we might loose each other for good.

When we part I rest my forehead against his, breathing deeply. I need to calm down the turmoil that's raging inside of me.

Harm then gently runs his hands down my arms and stops at the wrists where they are tied to the cold structure. Quickly he works his fingers to untie the knots. First one, then the other and my hands are free. Unconsciously I rub my wrists, more due to the knowledge that I can, than the fact that they actually hurt.

Once the bands, the yellow and the red one, hang loosely on the frame Harm settles down next to me on the bed and gathers me in his arms. We stay like this for what seems like forever, neither of us saying a word, but instead listening to our breaths and the sound of voices drifting into the room every now and then. But the voices are distant and don't seem to bear any connection to the two of us sitting on the bed.

However, the silence has to be broken sooner or later. And it's Maverick who does so.

"Glad to see you okay, Mac," he says, stepping up to the bed before he continues. "NCIS took him back to base."

I feel Harm nod against my head but need a moment to understand what they were talking about.

"Who was it?" I ask looking up to meet Harm's eyes.

Both men exchange a quick glance before Mav answers, "Lieutenant Sammer."

I must look confused for Mav goes on. "You've met him in court, he was on the stand."

And then it snaps – the voice finally connects to a face. I shake my head, who would have thought.

Now that the identity of the kidnapper is cleared, there's one other thing I need to know.

"How did you find me?"

Again Harm and Mav share a brief and silent dialogue before Harm starts to explain.

I briefly divert my eyes from the street to my side where Maverick sits. Neither I nor Maverick speak as we drive into town and turn north. I didn't know it before, but I am glad that he was willing to come along. For some reason it actually feels like a sound decision to get to the place I've just picked from the map when somebody else agrees to join you.

I don't know how I came to pick the street in the first place. But the moment I read the name something clicked in my head and I knew that was a place to look for Mac. All my body felt it, the feeling I had this morning was back – I felt like she was standing right beside me. It felt so real.

I first look at Maverick to see him shake his head. He probably still can't believe that Harm truly trusted his feelings and that they obviously worked out.

Then my eyes lock on Harm before I softly ask, "So you did see me?"

"It wasn't like the day on the USS Hornet where I saw the Lieutenant. But as I said, I felt your presence so close, that I knew you were here."

My arms wrap a little tighter around Harm for a moment to show my thanks, before he continues with his story.

I drive the car slowly up the street I've chosen, looking at each of the houses. Most of them are well kept family homes with green lawns and toys outside. Some are older, in need of a little maintenance and paint. However, none looks like a place to keep a kidnapped marine. Maybe my feeling was wrong, maybe this isn't the place after all and Maverick was right all along. I don't know anymore.

By the end of the street I stop the car. I lean my head back in defeat. I try to fight the feeling, convince myself that Mac will be found, yet the glimmer of hope that burned inside of me since I left Mav's office is now gone, leaving a cold feeling behind.

"Do you really think Mac is somewhere around here?" Mav asks sympathetically.

I answer with closed eyes. "I'm not so sure anymore. Just look at all the houses." I don't even feel a hint of her presence around.

"But you were sure before we came here, right? And you normally trust your guts, don't you?"

"Yes, but –" I trail off.

"So why don't you now. Harm, this is the woman you love, you can't give up now."

I open my eyes in surprise. I didn't expect that to come from him, especially after he's been so skeptic about my methods just some short time ago.

"Turn the car around and we'll have another look at the houses, maybe we missed something," he says in a voice that makes me comply with his request.

So I start the car again and slowly turn it around. At a moderate speed we head down the way we came, each of us scanning one side of the street. We're almost at the end of the lane when something catches Maverick's eye.

"Harm stop. Look over there." He points a little ahead to a neat white house.

I have a closer look and find a man walking to the back door. The man wears the Navy uniform. Then I become aware of another thing – I know this man.

"Isn't that Lieutenant Sammer?"

"Yes, that's him."

"I thought he's living on base," I say while we watch the lieutenant disappear into the house.

"Thought so too, the classes normally do. How about we pay him a visit and ask him whether he's seen something odd around here."

So the both of us emerge from the car and take the short walk towards the house Mav first pointed out. Once we arrive Maverick rings the bell. We wait for quite a while before the door finally opens. The moment the lieutenant realizes who is standing outside his door his face changes from nonchalance to surprise and back to indifference. But somewhere in the process there was something else, something I might call fear or horror. But it is gone so fast I'm not sure it was even there.

"Captain, Commander. I didn't expect to see you here." To my ears his words seem pressed, though he managed to get them out without stuttering.

"Lieutenant, the commander and I would like to ask you some questions. May we come in?"

Upon hearing the question the look of horror is back in the lieutenant's eyes, and this time I'm sure about it. For a moment he ponders Mav's question, most probably trying to find a way out. In the end however, he opens the door further and let us enter.

"Do you live here?" Maverick asks while he proceeds into the adjoining room, the kitchen.

To me it seems that the lieutenant follows him rather reluctantly. This combined with his earlier behavior strikes me as a little odd. There is something about this young man that rings my bells. Having a quick look around the hall I follow them as well.

"It's my friend's house. But he and his family are on vacation right now, so they let me use it."

The three of us remain silent after that, thinking about what to say next. It is the lieutenant who first speaks.

"Sirs, with all due respect, but why are you here?"

It's Mav who answers, "We got a hint that Colonel MacKenzie might be around here somewhere. And when we saw you, we thought that we might ask whether you seen her or something odd."

Again, when Mav mentions Mac's name I swear the lieutenant went pale for a moment. And he takes his time to answer.

"No sirs, nothing. All the people around here are non-military. I don't think they would know the Colonel."

I'm about to start questioning Sammer further, I need to know what he knows, what he has to hide, but Mav beats me to it and instead bids his goodbye to the lieutenant.

Once we are outside and back on the street I turn around and face Maverick.

"This guy has something to do with Mac's disappearance, I just know it. Why did you let him off the hook? Did you see the way he acted when he saw us, when you mentioned Mac's name?"

"We don't know for sure."

"Yeah, but if you would have given me half an hour at most, I would have had all the information we need. That guy in there," I point back to the house behind Maverick, "isn't up to my tactics."

"But I thought it best to leave him and monitor him. And I'm the senior officer here." I'm surprised that Mav pulls that card on me, yet this game can be played by two.

"I'm the JAG officer. I do know how to run an investigation, how to question a suspect." My voice is angry now.

"But not when you're driven by emotion."

Ouch, this sentence hits too close to home for me to respond anything. I still remember the day Mac said it to me. So instead I stalk away towards our parked car.

A moment later Mav joins me in the car.

"Let's drive around the block and then watch the house," he says.

As much as I'm tempted to go back to the house and grill the man, I begin to think about the advantage a surprise attack holds. So I get the motor running and set us in motion.

Not ten minutes later we're parked in the street again, now farther away from the house. For another ten I remain calmly on my seat, but as nothing happens I get tenser by the second. In the end I can't bear it any longer and have to get out of the car.

That's when I decide, that I will return to the house. When I start in the direction, I hear the car door open behind me and then "Harm". As I don't react, the next thing I hear is a slightly louder "Commander". But I'm not going to let Maverick hold me back.

I slip past one of the houses some way down the road from Sammer's house and head for their backyard. I plan on approaching the suspect's house from the back.

After a short while I can feel and hear that Maverick is walking slightly behind me. But I don't turn, yet I silently thank him for his company.

Quickly we reach the back door of the house we've been in a few minutes ago. I glance through one of the windows and look into the kitchen. It's no surprise he isn't there anymore.

When my hand comes to rest on the doorknob Maverick tries to warn me once more.

"Harm."

But I just shake my head. I need to know. And I need to find Mac.

Carefully I turn the knob and thankfully the door opens. Silently the two of us slip into the house. For a second we stand in the kitchen, scanning our surroundings, we're now on a mission.

There's one door, the door we used before, that leads into the hall. And there's a second door. We opt for the second, as we don't want to prevent being seen in the hall.

This second door leads into a joined dinning and living room. A quick glance around tells us that there's nothing of interest in here. So we take the next door on the right.

Once we emerge from the room we find ourselves standing at the top of stairs, which lead downwards. I silently motion for Mav that we should follow them. After all a cellar is the place where to hide somebody best.

Without a sound the two of us take the stairs down. Reaching the bottom we turn left. I check the first door, but it's locked. We proceed on to the next.

This one is open, but it's an empty room apart from the Laundromat that stands in one corner and the dryer next to it.

There are two more doors left.

Opening the next, I immediately know what it is. This is a private music studio. So the next room must be the recording room. We see a mixer and some other equipment. But apart from that the room is empty, no Mac.

That leaves another unchecked door and the locked room.

I proceed further to the door while Mav walks into the music studio.

The first thing I register about this last door is that there's a flap door in it, which I find strange. It surely doesn't belong there. The next thing is that there is a bolt that looks brand new to me. A recent addition I guess.

But before I could really wonder about any of this, Mav approaches me and says, "Mac's in there. Go, get her. I'm calling the NCIS and search for Sammer."

He doesn't have to tell me twice. Immediately I pull back the bolt and open the door. And there she is, in the middle of the room, sitting on a metal framed bed. The look in her eyes tears at me heart.

When he finishes his explanation Harm kisses my temple and I snuggle a little closer to him.

"Mav, how did you know Mac was in here?" I hear Harm ask.

"You saw the video, didn't you?" I precede the other man's answer.

"Yah, there was a paused picture of you on the monitor. It looked like you were asleep, or –" he trails off shaking his head.

I'm not, so no need to think about it.

"What happened after you went back upstairs?" I change the subject.

"I found Sammer on the second floor, in a children's room. He was getting ready for duty."

The rage boils inside me. I'm not sure that Mac isn't dead, but I truly hope that she's only asleep. I take two stairs at a time, not trying to be silent anymore. I need to get to that man.

Just to make sure I quickly check into both the kitchen and the living room but Sammer still isn't there. So he must be upstairs, for I hope that he hasn't already left the house.

When I reach the topmost stair my breathing falters and I need to stop for a brief moment to catch my breath. But it's not longer than a second before I sense somebody looking at me. Shifting my eyes slightly to the side I find Sammer looking at me, totally shocked. For a moment neither of us moves.

Then I leap forward and run to the room he just backed away into. I can tell that he's still in shock, for he moves slowly, his eyes fixed on my. After two more steps he hits the wall behind him. Suddenly his head starts to shift right and left, searching for a way out. But there is none. I keep blocking his only way to the door.

Slowly I take a step closer. And another one. I stare at the man I once thought to be a proper Navy officer. How could I have been so wrong? How could he mislead me for so long?

Sammer's eyes are fixed on me when I finally come to a stop just one step in front of him. And he never saw it coming, when my fist connects with his nose forcefully. Immediately his hands shoot up to cover the damage. But they don't keep the first droplets of blood from falling onto the floor. I hear a soft whimper coming from him when his fingers touch the bridge of his nose.

I keep staring at him while I reach for my cell phone to call the authorities. He doesn't dare to move.

"Thank you Mav," Harm says when Maverick finishes.

"Not a problem. I still can't believe it was him?"

"Do you know why he did it?"

"No, he didn't say," Mav answers Harm's question.

The next question Harm whispers into my ear. "How about I take you to the hotel, marine?"

I only nod my head. So Harm gets up and pulls me into a standing position as well. My hand comes to rest in his.

Thus hand in hand we leave the house, Maverick walking right behind us.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-