This got long so...two parter!!!

Chapter 9 Part 1

I drop into bed utterly exhausted but absolutely happy. I've never been this content in my life. Work is great, I have the most wonderful woman in my life; the most wonderful woman that I have not seen in nearly two weeks because an investigation took me to a carrier and her to Norfolk - but things are still pretty damned good. When the phone rings I know it's Mac and I glance over at my alarm clock to note that it's just after 2300.

My voice is heavy, a little thick and I try for my best bedroom voice when I answer without much of a hello. "What are you wearing?"

I expect a chuckle, an exasperated sigh or even some sort of reply that answers my question with some description of her sexiest lingerie. Instead my ear fills with the sounds of sniffling and a muffled sob along with the screams of police sirens somewhere in the background. I shoot up in bed, my body going ramrod straight as a chill slivers down my spine. "Dalton. He's dead." Mac says followed by a sigh of what sounds like relief.

"Where are you?"

Half an hour later I find myself in the alleyway behind McMurphy's, my jacket draped around Mac's shoulders, my arms wrapped tightly around her. There are no tears although I can tell from the puffiness in her eyes she might have been crying just before I arrived. I'm not sure how to feel about that - they dated, he seemed to have cared for her - it was natural to be upset that someone in your life was now gone. But, I didn't want her to cry for him or grieve, even in death my petty jealousy was apparent.

In a way, I'm glad. And that thought makes me feel like a terrible human being but, it's the truth. Just a week before I left for the carrier Mac and I stepped out of a courtroom after preparing our witness to find Lowne standing just outside - waiting. He wasn't invited up by either of us and as I spied the guest pass clipped to his lapel a fury of anger rose within me. "What are you doing here, Dalton?"

Mac did not seem to like the intrusion or the way he wrapped a hand around her wrist in an effort to get her to speak to him privately. I had moved out of the way at her request but the second he touched her my hero complex kicked into high gear. "Let her go."

My voice at the time was frightening enough to even scare myself and I rose to full height that had me towering a few inches above Lowne. He released Mac at once and tried to intimidate me but, it wouldn't work - I knew I could beat him to a pulp without much effort. "Get out of my way, Rabb."

"Let it go." My fists had rolled into a tight ball and I recall another meeting when I bumped into Mac and Dalton in Georgetown. I wanted to hit him then for keeping Mac away from me and now I wanted to hit him even harder for even dreaming of touching her. "Stay the hell away from her."

"Is that a threat?"

I grabbed his lapels and slammed him into the wall next to the elevators, any effort for him to fight dissipated as Dalton realized I was much, much stronger. "I don't do threats...I'll kill you."

"Harm, don't. Just let him go." I did, for her.

Apparently his death was a mugging gone wrong and Dalton, the untimely victim. As I stood over his lifeless body I couldn't bring myself to feel much remorse. The feeling amplified as I drove behind a police cruiser on the way to the station for questioning. I stood in as Mac's lawyer when an over zealous, scum of a police detective tried to immediately pin it on her. She's turned away from me as I drive, her eyes scanning out to the dark Washington roads. I feel the tension rushing out of her and hope to God I can ease some of it.

"You okay?"

Mac continues to look out and when I try to thread my fingers though hers she pulls her hand away. "I'm relieved, what kind of person does that make me?"

Relieved? I felt the same but only because a nemesis was out of the way for good. "Why were you there? I thought you were at Norfolk."

She shakes her head. "I wrapped up by early afternoon. Dalton wanted to talk one last time, I agreed."

"Oh." I don't like the sound of that especially knowing I would not be back early and Mac would go alone. She's a big girl, and could take care of myself but the thought of her seeing him behind my back made my heart sink to the pit of my stomach. "Didn't know you still talked to him."

I can't even bother hiding my jealousy over a dead man. It's stupid and pety considerinf that I'm with Mac but, I can't help but think of Dalton tehibg to weasle his way back into her life or how many six figure salaries he could toss at her to entice her back to his firm. It makes me physically ill and I swallow down the bile that burns at my throat.

She sniffles and I realize Mac's crying again. "I'm sorry." She says and my heart sinks even deeper until she says it, a simple statement that weighs so damned heavily. "I should have told you what was going on but…"

"Were you seeing him?"

I hate that's the first place where my head went although my heart didn't want to believe it. I hate doubting her but, I'm at a loss of what else to think. Clearly, it's the incorrect assumption as she snaps her head towards me, eyes wide as saucers. "No! Of course not… No. Is that what you think of me?"

"Honestly? I don't know what to think. The last place I'd ever thought to find you was behind a bar, in an alleyway in the middle of the night."

"He was following me."

Her words make me slam on the breaks and nearly causes us to be crashed into by behind. I grip the wheel so tightly that knuckles go white, the leather material crunches beneath my hands. I think I'm going to be sick and it's only after taking several breaths and swallowing down the bile that I'm able to turn to her. "Following you? Like stalking?"

She nods and I punch the steering wheel once, wincing because, well it hurt! "God damnit,Mac! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Don't yell at me." Mac's staring as if I lost my mind and maybe I have. My heart is hammering so hard I'm sure she can hear it. I can't even bring myself to get the car in gear and am thankful the roads are dead at this time. "You were doing your quals. I didn't want you worrying. Besides, I'm a Marine not a damsel in distress that you need to rescue."

I hate this part of her! Marine Mode - I like to call it where she stubbornly feels that asking for help is a weakness. I can't do a damned thing to change it and I feel like less of a man because of it. We're equals for the most part but times like these I feel...and I hate to admit it...emasculated.

"When did it start?" She swallows and turns away making me realize I already knew the answer. "That's why he was a JAG wasn't it?"

"Yes. I honestly thought he would give up once he knew about you and me."

Clearly that was not the case but why would she go meet him? Why wouldn't she call the police? "You could have been hurt, Mac. Killed."

"I know… I thought I could neutralize things, get him to back off. He never made it inside." I get the car moving again and Mac tells me about the shots, three of them all to Dalton's chest. She also tells me that she told him she loved him - a way to ease a dying man's pain. "I didn't mean it. I just… I didn't want him to die like that. God, there was so much blood like the poacher in the mountains."

She stares down at her hands that are clean but her shirt is stained and I wish I had something else to give her to wear. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Mac's sorry and I simply don't know what else to say.

I don't want to think about the similarity and differences between the two women but, my mind drifts off to Diane. Her last tour was plagued with things no woman should have to endure. Especially in the military where there isn't a place for sexual harassment or the insecsant taunting by a stalker. She was attractive, fun, well liked and I recall a time or two where her flirtatious nature got me into trouble - like when I just had to play hero at a bar we went and two pricks fresh out of college felt the need to be vulgar.

Diane tried to brush it off, to get me to stand down but, male pride had me decking one of the kids and the other took off running. We were thrown out of the bar and spent the evening arguing about how overprotective I was. If she were alive, I would hurl an "I told you so" over how her friendly attitude could be perceived as something else that eventually got her killed.

I hate to think that her final days she spent in her stateroom avoiding every sailor on board and that it forced her to seek help with the wrong man. I hate that I wasn't there to save her, to fix it although it was probably for the best - my chest would have been ripped open by a bullet as well.

I never could understand a stalker's mentality, how you could continue to go after a person who doesn't want you in return. That thought makes me cringe because, in a way, that's how I'd been with Annie and Diane - pining over both women although I never succumbed to stalking. I was never peeking through windows, never following either of them but, as a JAG, I had all sorts of clearance on Diane's deployments.

"You can't be here, Rabb." I snap out of my thoughts as Detective Frank Coster's voice makes me raise my head and glare at him. I stand protectively behind Mac, my hand squeezing her shoulder as she looks at pictures of men that were recently apprehended around the area.

"I'm her lawyer and unless Mac says so, I'm not going anywhere."

Her hand slips over mine and squeezes, a gentle reminder that I need to relax. "I want him here, Detective. Look I didn't see his face. These won't help." She pushes the photographs to the center of the table and glances up at me. "Take me home."

She didn't want me to stay and my heart broke over that little fact. I get she needed her space but, I just can't understand why she's so broken up over Lowne. I figured she'd at least take the day off and was surprised to find her stepping into the bullpen.

Make up covers the circles under her eyes but I still notice them. She's somber and when I take a mug of coffee into her office I slide, uninvited into her guest chair. "How are you?"

"Are you still pissed at me?"

I smirk and nod slowly. "Will you admit what you did was foolish?"

"Only if you admit you have a hero complex." I open my mouth to speak and she cuts me off. "What would you have done? Beat him to a pulp? What would that accomplish? It seemed like he would stop but he kept showing up. Maybe I was foolish?"

She scrubs a hand over her face and sighs. "Something about that mugging feels off."

"Listen, I'll tell Chegwidden what happened. Let's get you home, we can deal with our client tomorrow."

"Okay. Yeah, okay. Stay with me?" There's a vulnerability to her voice that makes my heart hurt. The walls she keeps erected crumble enough to let me in and I'm grateful for it.

"Of course."