A/N: Alright, you thought we weren't pulling punches before? Well, like we said, this is going to be a longer story so we upped the stakes and the angst. While there isn't a lot of it in this particular chapter, this chapter starts a story-arch that's going to last for a while. Stick with us, PLEASE, it will be worth it.

Oh God, my head. God were we drunk last night. Damn, were we hammered. It was Mike's bachelor party. So, naturally we all went to a strip club. Since Webb was Mike's partner for a few years at the Company, he was there too. As were Nate, myself, Spinner, Morley and DDCI Reid. Since Nate was the best man, it was up to him to pay for the night. Whatever we all wanted. Good, with what Uncle Sam pays him, he can afford it. I think Webb and I were racing to see who could down the most shots of Jack in a twenty minute span of time. I think I won, or lost if the pounding in my head is any indication. I know that my inhibitions must have lowered because pretty soon I was getting a lap dance and the guys were laughing their ass off.

I don't remember much after the bouncers kicking us out because Webb spanked a stripper. I do remember waking up in the holding cell just now. This would be incredibly funny, but as I look around for all the familiar faces from last night, I don't see Nate. Where the hell is he? Wait; he was the designated driver. They'd have no reason to hold him here. That sneaky son of a bitch, I'm willing to bet that he's laughing his Princeton ass off right now while we're sitting here rotting in this jail cell. Some Marine; what happened to 'leave no man behind'? I remember I asked Gunny that question at Mic's bachelor party, Gunny told me that the second half of that phrase was 'until the cops arrive, then run like hell'. Well, Nate certainly mastered that half of the phrase.

The memories of last night are starting to come back.

Flashback –

We all walked into the club around the same time. Nate had this sarcastic grin even then. I bet that maniacal bastard was planning his Houdini act even then. I remember that Spinner's eyes lit up when he saw the strippers and he couldn't get a seat that was close enough to them. God, he was practically on the stage. Nate was just leaning back against the bar. He told us that after that little episode with Peach last week, Mac made him swear off the drink, a pledge that he took willingly.

I remember this really hot stripper came out. I'm a guy, give me a break, I notice these things. Anyway, we were all hooting and hollering like cavemen. DDCI Reid was the worst. But that's the way it always is with married men. Nate paid to have every girl in the place push her breasts into Mike's face last night, talk about torture for a soon to be married man. Now I know why Becky was so damn pissed to hear that Mike had named Nate as his best man. With friends like Nate, enemies would be hard pressed to find a way to upstage his antics.

What else was there? Oh right, Webb had a few more drinks and he got kind of randy with this one stripper. The bouncers decided that they'd had enough when he spanked one of their dancers, we were asked to leave. Well everyone but Webb was 'asked', Webb was thrown out of the club forcefully. Then we all decided to pile in the car and go for a drive through the country in Nate's Chevy Tahoe. I believe that State Department boy was the one who suggested the game of mailbox baseball and just happened to conveniently have a baseball bat in the vehicle.

For those of you unfamiliar with the game, mailbox baseball is when one member of your drunken posse is stupid enough to dangle out the window holding a baseball bat while the driver does 100 km/h down a country road and this person flails around taking swings at mailboxes as they appear at the side of the road. Well, Webb was up to bat and I was in the warm up circle (the shotgun seat) and Webb only hit about two mailboxes. I took over when Webb missed his seventh mailbox in a row and ended up clubbing a cow with the baseball bat.

Then I remember Mike saying that he had to take a leak so Nate pulled the car over to the side of the country road. Mike wondered off into the bush. A few seconds later, Nate sent Spinner and Morley in after him and told them what to do. Their mission was to push Mike over, steal his pants and come running back to the car. Well, they did it. They came running back to the car with Mike's pants and underwear and Nate gunned the engine but went slow enough for Mike to think he could catch us and chase us.

Mike came running out of the bushes bare-assed and proceeded to chase us for a little over three miles with nothing on but a golf shirt. Eventually Nate pulled over and let him back into the SUV. I don't remember exactly when we got pulled over, must have been some time after that.

End Flashback –

"Where the hell is Nate!" Clayton Webb shouts as he stirs out of his slumber.

"Somewhere laughing his ass off that he was able to pull off this stunt of his again." Mike answers with a self-deprecating laugh. "Come on, Clay, he did the same thing to us at his own bachelor party. He dusted off a classic, we fell for it again, so he's getting his laugh in." I have to admit, this is pretty damn funny. It would be a hell of a lot more funny if he'd taken me with him though. I'm going to wring that scrawny State Department neck of his if I ever get a hold of him.

"Mike aren't you getting married in seven and half hours?" Morley asks as he paces in the cell.

"Yeah, well I'd say that being found in the Arlington County drunk tank the morning of your wedding is grounds for postponement." Mike rebuffs the question. It's about four in the morning. If Mac were here, she could tell me the exact time down to the second. Then again, if Mac were here, I'd be getting lectured right now and I don't think I could stand that.

As if on cue, the familiar frame of Nate Ross comes striding through the door into the hallway outside the holding tank and a sigh of relief passes through everyone in the cell. "Nate, thank God, you're here to bail us out right?" Spinner practically jumped through the bars of the holding cell.

"Hell no, I'm here to point, laugh and taunt, I don't have the necessary money to bail even one of your guys out, much less all of you. You tapped me out last night." Nate is smiling sarcastically and all I can think of is how much fun it would be to smack that stupid smile off his face. "Oh, but Harm, I did call Meg, she'll be here any minute to help with your current predicament."

"Nate, if I ever get out of this cell, you better run so far, so fast that I can't catch you." I warn, because right now I feel like an annoyed, drunken grizzly bear. Nate can't help but laugh at our predicament. I think everyone in this cell except for Mike wants to wring his neck and none of us can get past the wrought iron bars.

"Harm, by the way, I figured it was only fair to tell you that Mac knows too, and when she stopped laughing she told me to tell you 'not to drop the soap'. Have fun everyone." Then he steps back through the door and vanished from view.

I'm really going to kill him now. Of course he'd tell Mac, the two of them were probably laughing over this for a good long time before he walked through that door. My only saving grace is that most of their laughs were probably at Webb's antics since in all honesty, Nate was pretty good at preventing me from participating in any jackass antics. In typical Mac fashion there would be some witty repartee like 'don't drop the soap'.

Alright, well, on the upshot, someone is coming to bail us out. But, it's Meg and she's my date to the wedding in a few hours so that's probably not the best person to come bail me out. I suppose he could have called Sturgis or the Admiral, neither of which would have been preferable options. Neither of them would stop making jokes the next time we got together for a beer and calling Harriet wouldn't have been good since she's been kind of on edge with Bud on the Seahawk.

So, I guess Meg was really his only option. I'm still going to kill him though. You know what? I don't mind Nate Ross as much I think I did at one time. I mean let's examine the men that have tried to get close to Mac. Falcon, Lowne, Farrow, that detective that helped me find my stolen Vette, Bugme and now, Nate. Granted Nate isn't interested in a squeaking spring symphony with Mac, or if he is, he's playing those cards awful close to his chest. I couldn't blame him; Mac is a babe, plain and simple. I also suppose I could thank him. The Mac I once knew is back with a fury, except when she's at work, according to Sturgis she's still a man-eater there.

I think what I missed most about Mac though was the seeming purity that our relationship once had. The subtle romanticisms, those are the things I think that I missed most. Mac's enjoying those things now; the problem is that they're not with me. I worry about Mac more now, I think it's because I'm not sure how Nate sees her. There are a lot of ways for Mac to get hurt in this situation and that is something I will try hard to stop.

For some reason, this brings me to Meg. I don't know what to make of what's going on with Meg. It's not like we've kissed……on the lips or anything. All those weeks ago when the Admiral and I had that talk, I've been comparing and contrasting Mac and Meg ever since then and quite honestly, I have no idea what to do. There was a time when I would have said unequivocally that if I ever had a daughter, she'd look like Sarah MacKenzie, now that certainty is fading.

Someone once said "oblivion is a hell known only to fools"; that might have been Grandma Sarah, I'm not sure. Oblivion is currently my home address. I'm oblivious as to where I stand with Mac, somewhat less oblivious as to where I stand with Meg and completely oblivious as to whether or not I should consider Mac and Nate's friendship as a threat to my future prospects.

Right now, all I can do is lean on the bars of this holding cell and wait to be bailed out.

(Mac's POV)

Alright, the boy's were bailed out this morning. Not until after Nate and I laughed for about half an hour over the night's exploits. My life is like a vacuum right now, for as long as I remember, there's been this continuum in my social strata and Harm has always been the rock maintaining its stability. Harm and I haven't talked in quite a while, despite Nate's best efforts to get us to talk.

I haven't had sex in a little over a year. Just thought I should bring that up for reference. Since I got back from Chechnya more specifically. Yeah, Mic wasn't happy about that development. That should have been my first clue that a marriage between us was never going to work. I'm not a nympho, I think I have a very healthy sex drive but having sex twice since I broke up with Dalton is not healthy and when both those times were with Mic Brumby, I haven't been satisfied in an awful long time.

I said my life was like a vacuum right now, it is. Harm's no longer maintaining that stability in my life, he's too busy with Meg and Sergei's lives. I don't like that I had to find out from Sturgis that Sergei was going to Annapolis next year but I do consider it justice that Sergei's going to be a Marine. So, I needed some stability in my life and I found a new friend. Problem is, he's brilliant, funny and handsome not to mention a Marine to boot.

I swear, I'm not normally attracted enough to a man to just kiss him because he wears the right uniform but Nathan Ross is to BDUs as Harmon Rabb is to dress whites. We went out to Quantico to shoot last weekend, and every time he comes trotting out in that uniform part of me thinks I'm the Barbie that every little girl fixes up with her brother's GI Joe for a date because let's face it folks, Ken was gay. I didn't kiss Nate by the way but the urge was pretty damn strong.

I've controlled my attraction to Nate though and I've lectured myself for it repeatedly. My conscious mind (I will never forgive Jordan for teaching me that term) keeps telling me that it's an infidelity to Harm, but I think after seeing Harm and Meg together in the bullpen enough times, my conscious mind is starting to shut up.

Nate Ross is a male conundrum. He's affirmed my belief that God is male. Because just when I thought he'd tortured me enough with the puzzle that was Harmon Rabb, he threw Nate Ross in my path at the same time. I feel like Stevie Wonder doing a jigsaw for God's sake. I mean, most men wouldn't understand my relationship with Harm but Nate either understands or is making a concerted effort to, hell he's even trying to fix it. He doesn't hit on me, he does flirt with me but he always draws lines. This leads me to believe that he's either not attracted to me or because of Harm he just won't do anything about it.

The first option is okay, Nate's a cool guy to have around so having him as a friend is perfectly fine. The second option pisses me off. Harm's allowed to go off gallivanting with Meg and moving on with his life and I can't try and have a normal relationship, too? Haven't I suffered enough in life? I mean, Harm was the first man that I ever really trusted, that means that I was almost thirty before I could trust a man. Granted, that circle of men has grown over the years to include Bud, Gunny and the Admiral and now Nate but still, the first seventeen years of my life were an alcohol induced hell, haven't I earned at least seventeen years free of insecurity?

Another reason I'm convinced God is male. Anyway, I'm sitting here in the church, looking up at Nate who is standing next to Mike, faking a cough every time the priest uses the word 'love' and trying to remember that it's impolite to laugh at such immature antics. I don't know why Nate's been acting all teenagery recently. Not that I mind, sometimes it's an awful lot of fun to let your hair down with someone who's able to say 'fuck you' to what the world thinks.

Harm and Meg are a few rows back practically pushed shoulder to shoulder against each other. I noticed, in passing mind you, that Harm's arm was casually draped around her and I almost vomited. My vindictive side is itching to come out. The priest just asked for the rings and Nate, in his role as best man is doing his best Three Stooges impression to look like he's lost the rings. Eventually he handed them to the priest under threat of castration from the bride and they were exchanged. Nate resumes coughing every time the priest uses the word 'love' and I swear that Clayton Webb who is standing next to him is about to burst a kidney from contained laughter.

Finally the priest pronounces them man and wife and every one looks so happy as they walk back down the aisle. Nate shouts at the top of his lungs "On to the party" and Webb has had it, he falls to his knees in his hysterics. Anyone who was paying any attention saw Nate whispering jokes to Webb during the ceremony. I'm surprised the bride hasn't shot him by now. For the longest time when I went to wedding I used to picture Harm and myself at the altar, I haven't done that this time.

Now we're on the way to the reception. One of the few reasons I agreed to come with Nate was because he assured me that there would be Prime Rib at the reception, my Marine stomach can't turn down a good slice of beef. For some reason when I thought those words my mind went back to Harm, I think my libido has taken over my brain and is holding it for ransom.

Chloe's coming in next weekend, that's going to be fun. I have to think of something while we drive to the reception because focusing on Nate in a tux is hell on my virtue. We finally pull up to the banquet hall and Nate, having been raised in the family he was raised in, is the gentlemen and come around to open my door for me before taking my hand and leading me into the hall. I never feel like I'm on Nate's arm. I think it's because he assures me that he thinks of it more like everyone's looking at me, so he's my boy-toy.

He talks to me like I'm a friend, he doesn't walk on eggshells around me because I'm a woman which is something that it took a while to get used to. For all his aviator machismo, Harm's ego has nothing on Nate's at times. I know Bobbi tried to play down that Nate wasn't a diplomatic playboy but I've heard the scuttlebutt, I know about Peach and Petra, mostly from Mike so I know there are some weaknesses in his armour. The wedding party has to sit up at the head table so, Nate and I part ways and I go and sit with Nate's sisters Anna and Beverly who are friends of the bride.

Nate has to give a speech. I think he's been trying to pawn off the responsibility on Clay because he's on a sense of humour kick recently and I'm not sure that's going to play with this stuff shirt crowd. Nate just handed Clayton Webb a few cue cards and Webb now looks like he's back to trying to contain laughter. Nate's been trying this new rough look recently. He doesn't shave everyday, as you would expect, so he's got this rugged beard developing on his face. It took some getting used to, but I think it makes him look more masculine, more like a Marine if that's possible.

I guess, I don't know, at this point, I don't think I'm supposed to understand my life. I already know that I'm not supposed to understand men. Not that I would honestly try. It's just that every time that I think back over the last seven years, I don't think that there was anything more I could have done to show Harm how completely over the moon I was for him. Okay, getting engaged to another man was probably a bad way of going about things but I left Mic in Washington to chase Harm through a war zone. I think it was a little more then obvious who I preferred.

I'm trying not to pine. I really am. It's just so damn hard because I was in love with him for so long. It's just, every time that Harm and I have talked recently; it's been when he was picking Meg up for lunch. I am always the one initiating the conversation, something I never would have done normally, but I have this Marine that keeps telling me that if I really want Harm in my life, I have to make an effort. To which I normally respond with 'I'm always the one making the effort' and he responds with 'good, why stop now?'

Dinner was pretty good. Who am I kidding? It was exactly what my Marine stomach needed after that super-long Catholic wedding mass. Now's the time for the toasts and I see Nate reluctantly rise from his seat after tapping his glass with a fork. "Back after he first got engaged, Mike called me up and asked me to be his best man. You remember what I asked you when you called that day." Nate looked down at his friend.

"Yeah, you said, tell your dealer to cut the dosage." Mike chuckled slightly as did everyone in the room.

"That's right. He obviously didn't expect me to be serious because I'm still here talking to all of you. So, I had to pick whether to be serious or be funny and I actually prepared two speeches, I even have them both here with me but I figured that every one had enough of my antics after the ceremony so I decided on the serious speech. So, here goes. I've known Mike since I was a young Marine Corps sniper who still saw life as something that ended on the other end of my scope. That was a little more then a decade ago, through all that time Mike has seen me through some pretty rough stuff and after putting up with me for so long I can say that he really deserves all of the happiness and love that Becky brings to his life. Every man in this room should count himself lucky, if he were able to find that same happiness." Nate raises his glass off the table. "To Mike and Becky." The room repeated the toast and everyone, excepting Nate and myself who have both sworn off alcohol, downs their champagne.

Yeah, I got Nate to take the pledge last week. Mostly for his own health, that guy probably gets the worst hangovers of anyone I've ever met. After the toasts are over, the band leader calls the bride and groom out to the dance floor where they share a dance to The Lettermen's When I Fall in Love. After the first dance, the other couples make their own ways out on to the dance floor to join the happy couple. I notice Harm and Meg make their way out on to the dance floor and I feel my stomach twist and contort. They're pretty close. Harm's fingers are interlocked behind her back and his arms are around her waist if that's any indication. I feel like some weird voyeur.

"This seat taken?" A familiar voice asks and slides into the chair next to me.

"Hi." I responded dejectedly.

"Why so glum?" The question has its answer of course; the body language expert will figure it out soon enough. "I think you're reading too much into a dance, Mac." See, I told you he'd get it.

"It's not just the dance, it's everything. The lunches, the fact that he never really talks to me beyond talking about work, I hate it because it's all so frustrating. You know what, Nate? I'm tired of making efforts and getting no reward, it's either despondency or criticism with him and I'm just so damn tired." I throw my head into my hands and I try to come up with a plan for what exactly I'm going to do with my life.

Nate and I just sit here in a companionable silence. After a few songs, the band takes a break and a DJ mix CD begins to come through the speakers, I recognize this song. It's I Need to Know by Marc Antony, it's hot and it's Latin and suddenly I have an idea. I grab Nate by the hand and drag him out on to the dance floor. "Mac, what are you doing?"

"Well, Major, in most countries, it's called dancing." I jest playfully.

"Yeah, Mac, this is a tango beat, in order to pull this off, you have to be able to let go of some inhibitions and surrender to your inner animal passion." Nate sounds weary but I don't care. All I heard were the words 'let go' and now I know I have to.

"I can take anything you dish out." I respond in a challenging tone. Nate extends my arm and leads me out further on to the floor before flawlessly whipping me into a spin that sends me directly into his waiting arms. I shouldn't be surprised, Nate's a diplomat, attending formal galas and dancing are a part of his job, though knowing him, he's probably a self-taught type.

His one arm is around my waist and the other is entwined with my own hand as he leads us around the floor. I grind my hips into him shamelessly. He said I had to surrender to my inner animal, well I didn't think he was expecting me to do so, so readily. He spins me around so that my back is now pressed up against his chest and his hand that had previously been at my waist is now on my stomach pressing me back against him. I challenged him with my earlier move and now he's reciprocating. Like I could have expected any less.

A crowd begins to gather around us. I hadn't even thought of the display that this might be making. Nate spins me out of the tight embrace and once our arms reach their full extension, I raise my chin to him in a challenge. He smiles somewhat maniacally before throwing his shoulders and spinning me around back into the dance. Then he does something rather skilful when I realize that I've gone right from the spin into a dip. My arms go up around Nate's neck but he had this planned so he's got both arms securely on my back before one shifts up my back and the other slides under the mid-thigh of my right leg, which I had kicked up into the air when he lowered me into the dip. His hand on the underside of my leg runs down toward my calf. In a want to counteract his startling move I lean up and bite for his lips, falling a few centimetres short purposefully.

He pulls me back up and we finish the last verse dancing with a similar flame. God, I feel like a woman right now. For the last time, Nate spins me so my back is pressed up against his chest. The first time he did this, one hand on my stomach secured me against him. That hand, this time, ran down my stomach, over to the side my hip and then down the front of my leg. I bite my lip and throw my head back against his shoulder and roll it as if he were bringing me to ecstasy. He just chuckles lightly and turns me back into his arms so I'm facing him.

The music stops and we're facing each other. There's applause and wolf whistles echoing through the room. God, I feel like I'm on fire and I'm panting. That was better then sex, well, sex with Mic anyway. "I didn't know that you could dance like that." I get out between gasps for air.

"With that kind of beat it's all about who your partner is, how willing they are to give in, you were amazing Mac." He comments with a smile.

"I'm going out to get some air, I think I need it after that, see you in ten?" I question as I head for the terrace. He hands me his jacket, knowing it's still cool outside at this time of year.

"Sure." He answers, I look back to see him walking over toward Mike and Webb.

(Harm's POV)

Okay, now I'm really going to kill Nate. First, I'm going to talk with Mac, then I'm going to kill Nate. Simply put, I no longer believe that Mac and Nate are only friends. Mac and I were……are friends and we never danced like that. God, she was passionate though. I don't know what's eating at me more, the fact that they did it or the fact that Mac looked so damn willing. What did I expect? Her to spend night after night, day after day, pining for me? Everyone in the hall was waiting for them to kiss at the end of that dance, the fact that they didn't tells me that there might still be hope.

I follow her out on to the terrace. It's a cold early April evening so she's got Nate's tuxedo jacket around her shoulders. She's just looking up at the stars and slowly, her breath is returning to its regular pace. "Some show you put on in there." Damn that was a stupid thing to say.

"This isn't Footloose, Harm. Dancing is perfectly legal in this county." She fires back, okay I deserve that one.

"I'm not sure that I would exactly call that dancing." Must learn to think before I speak.

"You're right, dancing doesn't quite cover it." Mac admits in her own sarcastic tone. I know I'm playing with fire, hell I'm begging to be burned just by being out here.

"More like dry-humping." I mutter under my breath and hope it wasn't loud enough for her to hear it.

"Well, St. Harmon's back I see. Tell me, did you come out here to lecture the heathen on what a sinner she is for dancing in such a provocative manner?" She shoots at me. Now, I'm playing possum with my life.

"It's just, Mac you can't deny that there was something sexual about that dance. You can't stand there and tell me that after what I saw, you and Nate are still 'only friends'." My tone is soft, hopefully this won't combust into a full fledged argument.

"No Harm, I'm not going to deny that there was something sexual and passionate and hell even satisfying about that dance. But you're reading too much into a dance." She starts to walk back toward the banquet hall.

"Sarah…" I start but the words are catching in my throat again. She turns to face me. We stand there silent for a while just looking at each other.

"Go back inside, Harm, I'm sure that Meg's waiting for you." She turns away from me and walks back into the banquet hall. Right now my mind is on fire with one question, it has nothing to do with Mac and Nate, no, this one's all about Mac and me. A few tears peak at the corners of my eyes and I wonder; if I had asked her, would Mac have ever danced with me that way?