Disclaimer: I own nothing. There. I've said it.

A/N: I'd like to apologize in advance for any misuse of the English language in this chapter, I had a few things I wasn't sure about... but I'm sure you'll understand what I meant. Like I said I'm gonna take this a bit slow, so bear with me. This chapter is mainly focused on the episode "The Sixth Juror".

My heartfelt thanks to the kind reviewers, your words mean more than you imagine! As usual, hope you like this.

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She stood at the window, her arms crossed over her chest. Snow was coming down in white fenestrated sheets, covering every exposed surface. Her eyes were glued to the natural phenomenon. No matter how many times she'd seen it snow, so many times it was a cause for frustration at being stuck in one place, yet when she stopped and looked at it... she was awed. It was like staring at one of those hidden picture things – her eyes seemed to widen, at once trying to take it all in yet focus on solitary flakes.

As her eyes were occupied her mind wandered. She knew she wasn't well. Her mental state was giving out physical signs. One example was when found she was hot and cold at the same time. Her senses told her that her skin was warm but at the same time told her she was cold... she couldn't decide if she wanted to get under the sheets or change into shorts.

Another was her eyes' tendency to become brimmed with tears at a moments notice. What was most unsettling was that it happened at the office as well. She'd be talking to the general, completely professional and suddenly a certain word would strike a chord and she'd feel the wetness threaten to overflow. Thankfully she was able to stop the tears from actually falling, so far. And that was with Harm out of the office.

She was torn between wanting her normal life back and wanting to crawl under the covers and never come out. She seemed to gravitate amid the two, each day moving a bit in a random direction. One day she felt better, almost like her old self, and the next she'd be 4 feet under the floor. Today she was at ground zero, feeling the pull from both ends.

Releasing a long slow breath, she broke the spell mother nature cast and turned to look over the room. She heard once that dying from hypothermia wasn't such a bad way to go.

Apparently, the floor was wining the contest yet again.

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The sun is warming my skin and I'm very much basking in it. I have to store this warmth, we're going back to D.C. in a few hours.

Though I dreaded this mission and lost what little sleep I do get these days, it turned out to be not so bad. I daresay it was even good. Getting out and away from Washington must've done it. A little change of scenery is always good for the soul. Also, Jen had been heaven-sent as she pretty much dragged me for a few nights out on the town. Granted, we talked mostly about the case, but I actually had a good time, felt a bit good about myself.

By far, the best part of the week, was the talk Harm and I had...

/ Mac just finished getting ready when she heard a knock on her door. As it did every time someone was at her door, her heart missed a beat. Annoyed with herself, she ran a shaky hand through her hair.

"Get a grip MacKenzie, it's just Jen, a little early." She muttered to herself. "Coming!"

Slipping one foot into a sandal she was trying to strap the second one on as she answered the door.

"Hey Jen, I'll just get this thing on and we'll go, okay...?"

Finally getting the strap on right, she raised her head to her caller and was momentarily dumbfounded as her heart screeched to a halt, then proceeded to run a marathon.

"H-harm?"

She received a smile in return as he walked past her. She straightened slowly, trying to swallow down her racing heart and keep her mind.

Harm seemed preoccupied. He paced through the small room back and forth, as if he just couldn't stand still, tapping his cover on his hand all the while. Sadly, he wasn't about to be aided by Mac, who was still rooted to the same spot, and only managed to close the door.

Finally he found the words he was searching for. He stopped pacing and faced her. She was busy praying her face wasn't showing what she was feeling. She might've been relieved to know he was too troubled to notice even if it did.

"Mac."

She reasoned silence was the best way to go.

"Can we call a truce?"

Silence reigned.

"Look, I know you're going through something and you don't want to let me in. I don't understand but I respect it. I just want to be able to be in the same room with you without feeling like your enemy, okay?"

His eyes met hers reinforcing the verbal question with a silent one. It was all she could do to nod her head in agreement.

Harm seemed to follow her lead and nod his head as if trying to make sure it's what he saw. He released a sigh and tried to catch her eyes again, to no avail.

Slowly, dejectedly, he made his way to the door. When he least expected it he felt her hand on his arm. Turning back to her, his eyes brightened at the small smile that graced her lips. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, she stepped into his embrace and hugged him close. Harm for his part reveled in the feel and smell of her, breathing in deeply as she whispered in the general direction of his ear, "Thank you. A truce would be nice."

"Okay, good." /

We didn't actually talk or see each other besides the professional need, but the air was definitely clearer. Breathing came a lot easier. We're not even close to the friendship we used to have, but it's more than I could've hoped for and it helps make my professional life much easier. I will slowly find my work rhythm again, slip back into the Col. MacKenzie character with some ease.

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TBC.

Again my apologies for taking so long and writing short chapters...