3 more! Just 3 more chappies! 28, 29 and 30! You guys are gonna lose it with 28, but it doesn't end in a cliffie. :D Anyway... ;) Moving right along, I LOVE the ending part of THIS chapter.

Hmmm Anyway.

:Grins:
J.

PART 27 – Outside Assistance

March 29, 2010
1920 Local
Mac and Harm's House
San Diego, California

Mac slipped her key into the lock, stopping with her hand on the handle. It was unwelcome, this feeling of fear and trepidation to enter her own house. "This is ridiculous." And yet, ridiculous or not, knowing that Hewitt was watching left her with a sense of dread and vulnerability she wasn't willing to openly give into. "Fine." She resigned against the unwelcome feelings and pushed the door open. Mac quickly turned and closed the door, putting all of the locks in place to keep out anything that tried to destroy their safe place.

When she stepped through the small foyer and passed the French doors that opened to the living room, she could smell the wonderful scent of a home cooked meal. "Lasagna." She said with a smile as she went through the house, heading towards the source. Mac put down her briefcase on the sofa, stepped out of her heals and shed her drab green jacket, hanging it on the back of a dinning room chair. "You're sure that we should be here?" She questioned Harm, who turned around slowly to pin her with a 'did you ever doubt me' look.

"Cross my heart, hope to die." He made a big cross over his heart with his fingers, then walked over to her, his arms wrapping around her body. "The boys were here today. They removed everything and reinstalled some new stuff. . .We're safe."

Mac turned to her side, glancing towards the sliding glass door which was covered with a heavy, hotel-like window treatment. "This is our house, we shouldn't have to live like this." She rested her head against his chest, sighing deeply. The feeling of safety she usually found in his arms was superceded by the eerie feeling that they were being watched. It was plausible, even Harm, when he arrived at home earlier, had phoned that someone was tailing him.

"Mac, take a seat, relax. . .And tell me about lunch." He walked into the kitchen, slipped on a pair of oven mitts and proceeded to pull out a vegetarian lasagna from the oven, followed by garlic bread.

Lunch. It was normally something that Mac would look forward to. Usually, if neither she nor Harm were busy, they would meet up at a little café near base. Often, Bud and Harriet would join. Even when she wasn't with him, Mac had been known to love cuisine of all types. Today though. . . "Well, I ordered a nice, leafy salad, grilled chicken and an iced tea." She countered, making a face as Harm turned to her with a scolding look. "Hey, don't give me that look, Rabb. . .It's the truth."

"What about Vic?"

"He had the T-Bone, medium rare. . .and brown rice." She cringed slightly. "Do you know how disgusting medium rare steaks look? It was enough to turn me off of meat in general." Meats, to her, needed to be dead and cooked to perfection – aka well done. That slight bloodied state made her nauseous. "Anyway, it was. . .weird."

"Weird how?" Harm placed the pan in the center of the table and took a spatula to cut up the lasagna. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and it wasn't anything that he was too fond of. "Did he try something?"

Mac shook her head. If anything, Vic was being a real gentleman with her. It was odd and, to be perfectly honest, it threw her off stride. "He was being. . .God, forgive me for saying this: Charming. . .he was being charming." She took a bite of the lasagna which Harm had dished up and then swallowed down some water. "I went over the investigation and everything he said was verbatim. . .Too much damned time has passed for Vic to memorize it all. . .He's not going to crack. . .Not easily."

"He will." But his confidence wasn't shared. "Mac, I've seen you destroy tougher guys on the stand. I'm confident you will do the same to Vicpuke."

Despite herself, Mac couldn't help but chuckle. "Vicpuke?"

"Sturgis' idea, not mine." He grinned impishly and at her questioning glance, supplied, "We had a chat. . .We're okay. . .He's also on board with anything we need."

Her eyebrow rose quizzically, "So, in less than an hour you and Sturgis were all buddy, buddy again?" Mac sighed and shook her head. "We should have done this talking thing years ago. . .It's a helluva concept."

"Two lawyers who couldn't talk to each other, what are the odds?" Harm gently rested his fork on the side of the plate, then reached across the table and took her hand. "Mac. . .Tell me you'll be alright."

"When are you going to stop asking me that?"

"When you give me an answer that works." He said simply, his hand squeezing her own.

"I'm not alright . .This is all out of sorts. . .I don't like things to be so out of control. . . But, I'll be fine. We'll be fine." She said confidently and with a slight grin, raised his hand up so that she could kiss his palm. "You aren't leaving me, Harm. You aren't abandoning me. You'll be there."

The idea of being inside an SUV, listening device plugged onto his ear while she tried to pretend to enjoy Vukovic's advances was already making him queasy. Still, he couldn't tell her that because if he was unsure, Harm knew Mac would be too. "That's right. . .I'll be there."

She slipped her hand out of his and took her fork again. As usual, his cuisine was delicious. "I had Bud post a bulletin that Hewitt will surely receive about you going back to sea duty." She grinned impishly, "I made it look like you requested it."

Harm nodded, hoping that the SECNAV believed in the 'out of sight, out of mind' credo. "How much time do we have?"

"A day, maybe two. . .It's not much, but it's better than dragging this on. . .The longer we wait, the closer we get to Vic's Article 32. . .Do you think you'll be able to dig something up before then?"

Honestly? No, he didn't. People like Hewitt kept the dirty laundry sorted out and well hidden, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try. "I don't know, but if there is something to dig up, I have plenty of shovels handy." He joked. "I have my best guys on the case. . . and me of course." His smug grin made her chuckle. "When is the Article 32?"

Mac took a sip of water, then stared up at the ceiling in thought. The Neroli thing was taking up a lot of time and man power, but maybe it was a good thing? She needed the time to prepare and dig up dirt. If there was anything to dig up. And, if there wasn't, Mac prayed that truth and justice would win out. "Roughly, a month. . .The time frame may be pushed up though. Loftness is being a real bear about it. He's trying to push for treason."

"Jesus. . .That would rattle a few cages."

"Which is why Hewitt is shitting bricks right now. . .This isn't a petty 'he said, she said' trial. The ramifications of Vic being accused of high treason is huge. They'll dig into everything, every aspect of his life. I just wish Loftness would back off a little, his pushing is stressing me out."

"It's understandable that he wants to nail Vic. It happened on his ship. . .Captains are real anal about anything going South on a cruise." Knowing what he did about being in command, he could understand Loftness' grudge. "Guess I'd better pack my seabags, huh?"

"What did your co-worker think about impersonating you?"

Harm shrugged, "He's ex-navy, served for three tours, one out in the Med with the JFK, and two on the Seahawk. So he knows the ropes. . .We'll supply him with a letter to hand to Loftness, who will, hopefully, not give me an ass chewing for keeping him in the dark."

"It will be alright, all of it." At least, she swore that if she kept telling that to herself, it would be.

April 2, 2010
1240 Local
Joint Legal Services Southwest
San Diego, California

There was no mistaking the tears that streamed down Mac's face when she stepped into JLSS a good four and a half hours late. "Ma'am?" Harriet was the first to notice and exchanged a knowing glance with Bud who had stepped out of his office when the bullpen went silent.

"Nothing, Lieutenant, get back to work!" Mac barked out, cringing inside at how mean that sounded. Not even bothering to remove her cover, she hurried through the bullpen, one hand gripped a brown paper bag which clearly concealed some sort of a bottle, the other hand wrapped around the handle of her briefcase. She passed Vic's office, noting with her peripheral vision that he was leaning against the doorframe, law book in hand. What she didn't see was the pleased expression that he was trying to hide, nor the swagger he used when entering his office again. She would be correct on her silent assumption that the first thing he would do is call his mommy.

For effect, she slammed the door, closed the blinds and then slid into her chair. "Jesus." This morning had been exhausting, to say the least. . .

After having an argument that could have been heard from outer space – a fake argument, that is – Harm stormed out of their home, seabag in hand, dressed in khakis with his bomber jacket draped over his shoulder. There was a van outside, waiting to take him to the airport. A van being driven by a disguised Gunny that carried an extra passenger, private investigator Lucas Monroe the man who was to play his double. Almost immediately they were being tailed, but Harm used a particular break in the traffic to duck under the seat while Luke took his place. From his spot, he made a call to Mac. "We're on our way. . .Good luck." For effects, there was to be another scene just as he boarded the COD.

Unless Hewitt's goons had falsified military identifications, it was certain that they would not be let in and would have to watch from a distance. Gunny confirmed this as the two men in a black sedan pulled off at a road that went around the perimeter of the airstrip. "Alright, Luke, good luck."

"Thank you, sir. . .I won't let you down." Lucas jumped off of the vehicle, taking Harm's bomber jacket and sea bag. He quickly hurried into a hanger where a handful of other military officers were waiting for their ride.

"Put this on, sir." A petty officer handed him the cranials as well as the vest which he needed to wear in order to board the COD.

Ten minutes later, they were boarded and ready to taxi when a Corvette came screeching to a halt a good hundred feet away. The driver, a female Marine Colonel, stepped out, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the engines. "No! You can't leave! You can't leave me. . .No!". . .

Cringing, Mac thought back to her little scene at the airport. God, she'd made a fool out of herself. It may have been for the greater good, but it still didn't sit well. Not any better was the stupid idea she'd had when passing a liquor store on the way into the base. She'd parked her car, raced inside and while the immediate temptation set in, all she'd bough was a bottle of tonic water which was wrapped up in a brown paper bag and appeared to be an alcoholic beverage. The two men who were following her, sitting in the same black sedan parked ten spaces back, certainly wouldn't notice that the bag's contents were of the virgin variety. On the way to the office, she'd made a point of taking a swig of the liquid, if only for effect.

Propping open her briefcase, she pulled out a medium sized vodka bottle with a little less than a thimble's worth of liquor which she dripped onto her uniform. She tightly capped the remaining tonic water and placed it inside a drawer. Haphazardly, she let the vodka bottle slide off the corner of her desk and shatter. "Damnit!" She yelled, loud enough for anyone eavesdropping to listen.

Almost as if on cue, both Jen and Vic rushed inside without even bothering to knock. "Ma'am, are you. . ."

"I'm fine, Petty Officer, please mind your business." She snapped hating each and every time this charade required for her to act rudely in regards to her friends. They all knew her sudden change in character was all aspects of their little game, bit it didn't make things any easier.

Vukovic shooed Jen out of the office, closing the door behind her as she left. "Colonel, I'm sorry for. . ." He stopped short, face turned slightly ashamed as his eyes locked on the origin of that shattering sound. For the first time in his life, Gregory Vukovic felt guilt. A pure an unadulterated guilt that showed him just how black of a soul he really had. The concept of pushing Mac to the breaking point was partially his idea, but he wasn't prepared to see the effects full force. In all honesty, he really never believed it would work, especially not this quickly. "Please tell me you didn't drink and drive."

"Why do you care?" She slurred, then made a deal out of standing up, only to crash into her chair again with a manic laugh. "You should stay away. . .I'm trouble for everyone who comes close."

"I like a little trouble." He said with a casual smile, his heart fluttering at even the slightest notion that Sarah MacKenzie thought about being close to him. "Listen, how about I take you home?"

If ever Mac had warning bells going off in her head, this certainly was the time. The last thing she wanted was Vic to ever step foot in their home. She looked him squarely in the eye and hiccupped, chuckling again. "You have court."

"And you can't be in this office the way you are. . .I'll have Jen drive you home."

Now that certainly sounded like a better idea. "Deal." Phase one of their plan was now complete.

April 7, 2010
1750 Local
San Diego International Airport
San Diego, California

No one would have guess that the tall man dressed in a sharp suit, standing on the tarmac with a sign that read 'Senator Latham' was one Harmon Rabb Junior. He sported shoulder length blond hair, which was stylishly let loose. A dark blond, scruffy beard hid his facial features and his blue eyes were concealed by the use of brown contact lenses and the heavy, black rimmed glasses resting on his nose. Gunny said he looked European. One thing was for sure, he would not be recognized. Hell, he couldn't recognize himself. Just in case, he decided to add a British accent to his concealment. Mac would have been proud.

"You must be the limo driver?" A refrigerator of a man, dressed to the nines with a gray Armani suit asked him. If Harm was tall, this guy was at least a head taller and rather imposing. "I'm head of security for Senator Latham. . . She'll be joining me momentarily. . .I'll have to ask you to lean against the limousine and spread 'em. . . Standard procedure."

Harm nodded. "I ah. . .not a problem." He conceded knowing it wasn't a bright idea to state he was someone else or that his team had managed to confiscate the limousine, driver and all. Gunny would be driving the vehicle and Harm would, hopefully be seated in the back, chatting with Bobbi. He remained painfully still as the man searched him while another did a check of the limo itself and Gunny who had been sitting behind the wheel dressed in a black suit and driver's hat. "Satisfied?" He said, once Mr. Refrigerator turned away and spoke into a small receiver inside the arm of his jacket.

Seconds later, Bobbi descended the steps of her private Leer Jet. Cell phone pressed to her hear, she waved off one of the guards that offered to help her down the steps. To her credit and despite the tumultuous nature of politics, her appearance hadn't changed much at all. She was still attractive and still carried herself with the assured swagger of someone with power. Harm opened the door to the limo and offered his hand which she didn't take. "Thanks, but I can manage." She said with a rough tone, then slipped inside.

Harm followed and was quickly grabbed by his jacket, Mr. Refrigerator trying to pull him out. "Senator . .Senator, I need your help. . ." He didn't say his name, he didn't want to for fear of someone in her security detail finding the information profitable. Hell, the paranoia was starting to get to him, but in a world where money ruled, one could never be sure. "Bobbi, please."

"Stop!" She told the guard once the voice, so familiar, hit a raw nerve inside of her. She'd know that voice anywhere, despite the huge gap of time since she'd last spoken to. . . "Harm?"

He nodded, then bit his lower lip, hoping to convey with his false brown eyes, what he didn't want to say. "I need to speak with you, Senator. . .It's urgent."

Bobbi waved her guard off. "Martin, it's alright. . .He's an old friend."

"Yes, ma'am." Perplexed, but knowing she wasn't the type of person he wanted to argue with, Martin shut the door and turned towards the black BMW where the three other members of his team sat waiting.

Straightening himself up as best he could, Harm took a deep breath and sank into the limousine seat. He was exhausted. The lack of sleep, plus the amount of time that they'd spent detailing his get up was taking a toll on him. He felt her hand press against his face, her fingers curling around the mustache which she made to take off. Quickly, he stopped her hands, pulling them away. "It's me, I swear it."

"Just what kind of trouble are you in, Rabb?" She was quickly putting two and two together. Harm was never a man to hide away from things. This definitely had to be a whopper. "I assume it's not Navy related, you're a reservist now, right? You can't piss off that many people with that much limited time."

"It's not that limited." He defended vehemently, then shook his head. "Look, I'm not here to fight. . .I know you and I, we've had problems in the past. . .But, this isn't about me, it's about Mac."

Ah, now that surprised the hell out of her and then some. Bobbi would be lying if she didn't feel a pang of jealousy over the Marine. "Mac? As in Colonel Sarah MacKenzie?"

"One in the same."

"Hmmm. . .After so many years you two are still friends?"

Harm smiled, despite all that was happening, he had to count his blessings – if anything, at least he got to figure things out with Mac. "It's a long story, but we're a little more than that." And he didn't mind saying it, there was nothing to hide anymore. Why the hell was he hiding away in the past, anyway? All it did was leave him heartbroken and lonely.

"Always knew you loved her. . .Men think they can hide their feelings, but what I saw in your eyes that night we had dinner at your place. . ." She trailed off with a mild chuckle. Very few things eluded her and despite Harm's nonchalant attitude towards Mac's sudden visit, there was something in his eyes that she tried to put a finger on.

Snorting, his arms came across his chest defensively. "Bobbi, let's get back on track?"

The look that she pinned him with clearly stated that he'd overstepped a boundary. And he had. They weren't friends anymore and after the times he and Mac had attacked her cases against what she considered to be 'military misjudgments', Bobbi wasn't willing to bend. "Captain Rabb, I do hope that you know who you are talking to."

"I know who I'm talking to. A woman who was a friend once. A person that, like Colonel MacKenzie and I, wants to seek the truth and bring justice on those who threaten our way of life. . . At least, that is the person I was hoping to speak with." To Harm, Bobbi never was a bad person, not at all. Though, politics had a way of skewing everyone's original opinion about things. All in all, Bobbi was different, someone who believed she could make big changes. From time to time those changes did more bad than good, but it was her intent that he admired. She'd always been a person for the people and only infrequently bended against her beliefs to support whatever Congress was trying to feed her. This was the reason he'd never be able to run for office – the game. And it was a game almost like charades. Play for one team, but give secrets to another. Harm just never had the stomach for it.

Despite herself, Bobbi wasn't the type to hold a grudge forever. Yes, he'd brought down an iron fist against a few angles that she was trying to take, Mac as well, but they were protecting their own. That wasn't something to take lightly. Plus, they were two incredibly intelligent officers, both at the top of their classes and she had to give merit where merit was due. "If it's a friend you need, then I am here. . .But, would you mind terribly if I asked you to quickly bring me up to speed?"

But, how? Where do you start a conversation that sounded more like a plot for a soap opera than the dealings of real life? Not to mention, after all these years, was Bobbi the person he needed to trust? With a heavy sigh, Harm found himself back against the wall. Maybe this would do more damage than good, but it was all that they had. "How well do you know SECNAV Hewitt?"

Bobbi shrugged, though the woman certainly wasn't her favorite person in the world, they often shared similar views on the roles of women in the military. Not to mention, back in DC, they were part of a bridge game that happened once a month with only female members of Congress. "We're not joined at the hip, but I know her well enough." Actually, in the recent months, due to a little snafu, Bobbi knew a little more than just enough. Certain tactics, while not carried out by Hewitt herself, had been implemented by some on her staff.

"Then I can guarantee you'll be surprised at what I have to tell you." With Gunny at the helm, it guaranteed that there would be no unexpected stops and that no one would interrupt. It allowed Harm to go into great lengths and details about Hewitt and Vukovic. Details that left the normally cool and collected Senator with her mouth open and mind whirling at a million thoughts an hour. "I know you could probably care less about Mac and I, about our relationship, but you do care what happens to the people of this country. . .And if Hewitt made President, I can't think of anything more frightening." He finished off, taking a deep breath as he brought his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Never one for drinking during working hours, Bobbi decided to ignore that little fact as she slid towards the tiny bar and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. She raised the bottle as an offering to Harm who nodded back in agreement. "This isn't common knowledge, but I was supposed to be selected as SECNAV."

Talk about things coming out of left field. "You? SECNAV?. . .But, you oppose, quite vehemently I might add, nearly everything having to do with the Marine Corps and the Navy. . .Thank you." He took the proffered glass of bourbon, feeling the liquid burn his throat as he swallowed. "Pardon me if I'm a bit perturbed."

"I tend to take a hard line on the military in general. It's not just the Navy. If there's any branch that needs saving, it's the military."

"One could argue that the political branch already has one foot in Hell." He said with a grin, shrugging when she pierced him with another gaze. "Hewitt is a living proof of that."

Waving him off, Bobbi finished preparing her drink, then slipped into the seat across from him. "Here's the thing. . .Politics, in general, is skewed severely and it's too late to change it. And there are many reasons for it. Legislature is extremely antiquated, dating back to an age where not even a tenth of their social problems could equate with the ones that we have now. So yes, we've had to deviate and play with the boundaries. . .Sometimes cross the boundaries all together." Taking a sip, she savored the liquid, glancing at the glass at her hands as if it held the perfect discourse for their conversation. "But, there's always a loophole and the US Military holds that loophole and they don't even know it. . .See, the military can be changed. It can be modernized. Hell, it has been already. . .In 2012 the new submarines will come equipped with birthing compartments and the sailors will learn to adapt to having women onboard. If Mac makes JAG, the president that it will set can not be put into words.. .The problem is the people on the top of the pyramid. . .The ones who have been military men for so long, they don't want the change." She said, putting heavy emphasis on the word 'men.' That had been her problem all along, a reason why, in the past, people like Mac had been used. Hell, she'd even sent MacKenzie on a submarine once, just to prove a point. "So, they kick and scream and act like pussies until they get what they want. . .Not everyone appreciates bullies. So, with the new agendas going into place and the alarming rates of harassment charges filed by females. . .It's no wonder that a job like the SECNAV's needed a light touch."

He understood all of that. In fact, on many points Harm agreed. "You don't have to tell me that some women are better at this soldier stuff than men are. . .I've served with enough women to know that they can do the job. . .It's the ones that can't which bring a lot of flack on the others." What he didn't quite understand was why they would let someone like Hewitt take that spot over Latham. "Why aren't you sitting in that chair? How the hell did that bitch get picked over you?"

Bitterly, she chuckled, the thoughts of a less than adequate opponent getting something she wanted settled in once again. "Apparently I wasn't right for the job. They wanted a woman who could be prompted to do anything that they wanted. . .Anything. We both know that I don't operate that way. . .I came on a bit too strong for their taste so they stuck with what they considered to be the lesser of two evils." She shrugged, "Hewitt is more of a push over."

If there was anything that Hewitt was, she definitely wasn't a push over. And there was that word again 'they.' Though Harm had a vague idea who she was referring to, the term was still rather generic. "They who?"

"Congress, Legislature, the Government. . .Who the hell knows? In this job, Harm, you can't really do much without someone watching your every move. Every 'i' has to be dotted, the 't's have to be crossed and someone always double checks the work. . .If they don't like it, then it gets tossed out or filed away. If you keep handing in something that they don't like, eventually, you will get passed over and never savor the good stuff." But this wasn't just a pass up, this was an agenda of sorts. It wasn't surprising if Hewitt had something on someone big. "If you ask me, it was President Garver. . .He and I never saw eye to eye."

Harm snorted. "You haven't seen eye to eye with anyone in the White House, if I remember correctly."

She chose to ignore that comment, there were more pressing issues. "It's a shame though, that neither of us would have slid into that office fair and square."

"Meaning?"

"Does the name Karla Winters ring a bell?"

"Vaguely. . . Ensign which claimed that. . ."

"Enlisted, Harm. . .She was enlisted. . .An enlisted woman who accused two senior officers and one flag officer of assault and harassment."

"Yes, I remember. The prosecution was trying to turn it into a rape case. . .They did win and all three officers, last I heard, were spending time in Leavenworth. . The Navy had a helluva time trying to clean up the bad press."

"And a year later Hewitt was in the hot seat, wasn't she?"

The implications were hitting him full force. Christ, she couldn't be assuming that this was all a rouse? "What exactly are you getting at?"

"The case was a fake. . .a sham. . ." Bobbi sighed, knowing full well she would have had the job had she not objected against tarnishing the names of three good officers. As much as she wanted the power, she didn't want it when it came in the type of a package that was not-so-neatly wrapped up in. "They never assaulted her. Winters was paid a lot of money to lie about it. . .She had her boyfriend, Kevin, and a couple of his friends beat her up."

"And how do you know all of this?"

"Winters' boyfriend came forward. .He was silenced before it was ever leaked to the media along with the reporter that he spoke to. . .Part of taking the job was making sure us candidates kept our mouths shut, but the miniscule amount of conscience that I have left wouldn't let me do that."

"Silenced, by who?" Bobbi stared at him with a look that clearly said 'do you really have to ask?' "Hewitt?"

Bobbi nodded, then sighed deeply. "That's what I assume since her name came up in the interview that Kevin had given. . .The only reason I knew is because the reporter and I often crossed paths. . .For a small fee, he would help out."

"Why didn't you go to someone?"

"I did. And the accusations did nothing but damage anything I was trying to get passed in congress. . .So, I backed off entirely. Losing my job just didn't seem worth the effort. Besides, I figured, if anything, I would keep it to myself until a reason to use it came around."

"Well, I'm giving you a reason, Bobbi. . .There's still a chance you'll get the job if she crashes and burns, right?"

If there was one thing that Bobbi Latham couldn't resist, it was a chance to bump someone out of their high chair. "Alright, I'll help you."

2120 Local
Mac's House
San Diego, California

Mac was sitting Indian-style on her bed with a folder open in front of her and a fudgesicle in her hand. She wasn't in the mood for a real meal, so she'd sought the comfort of something chocolate and cool. Nearly every night, part of the ritual had been the same since Harm's disappearance and Vic's investigation. She would sit in a quiet space, re-reading every detail pertaining to the interviews in the Arjan suicide. It was a gut feeling that told her Vic was certainly involved in Harm's mishap and by extension, the driving force that prompted Airman Arjan to jump ship. But, proving those accusations with nothing more than reasonable doubt was going to be a bitch. There was really no evidence aside from the letter Arjan had written to his girlfriend and still, that was inconclusive. Taken out of context, the young plane Captain could have been referring to anything really.

True, she had won cases on reasonable doubt before where information was so scarce all she had were assumptions. Still, this was a horse of a different color. In the past, the amount of cases in which those in government offices held an interest, were quite slim. She counted, maybe, a dozen or so cases that were so important messing up meant it was a career breaker. A dozen out of thousands of cases. What was sad, really, was that Mac didn't care about the potential backlash this would have on her career if and when all of Hewitt's secrets came out. No, what she truly cared about was the love of her life, a man who was somehow shoved into all of this because of her.

Sighing, she took a bite off the top of the fudgesicle, then settled into her headboard, dismissing the case for the moment. The case was one thing, but willingly entertaining Vic was another thing all together. Harm had fervidly disapproved her 'dating' the man. And while she was on the same wave length and then some, Mac found no other way to possibly dig up dirt, or, at the very least, bring his guard down. A man as unstable as Vukovic eventually cracked, one way or another.

A startling ring to a particular cellphone made her jump slightly. "Shit." Mac said, shoving the fudgesicle into her mouth as one hand went for the phone and the other searched for a napkin. "Herrr."

(Harm removed the phone from his ear, glancing at it as if it were a foreign object. "Uh. . .Mac?")

"Yers, 'ang on." With the fudgesicle still in her mouth, it was kind of difficult to speak. Instead, she pulled the shirt off of her, tossing it across the room where it landed on top of the hamper. Triumphantly she giggled, then took the fudgesicle with her now empty hand. "Mmm, sorry. I'm eating a fudgesicle and the phone scared the crap out of me. . .Wound up getting chocolate all over my shirt."

(Despite himself, Harm couldn't help but chuckle. "Hmmm. . .Wish I was there to share that fudgesicle with you, Mac." His voice dropped a few octaves into that seductive timbre that never failed to make her sweat.)

"Weeeell, I am sitting around now in just a bra and panties. ..I didn't like having chocolate all over me so I tossed the shirt." His frustrated groan made her giggle again. "I am telling the truth."

("And killing me in the process." He sighed, trying to will his body back into control. "So, how are you?")

"Missing you." She confessed with a frown, then licked off some of the ice cream that was melting. "Since you moved in I started seeing this place as ours not just mine. When you're not around it's lonely around these parts. . .I just want you home with me." Wow, she thought, I'd have never had the guts to say that before. And she found that she liked it, a lot. This new form of self expression was a welcome addition to all that made up Sarah MacKenzie.

("God, Mac. When you talk like that, it makes me want to drop everything." He considered his current location. A hotel no more than a five minute drive away. "I'm close by. I mean, I could. . .")

"No." She stopped him, though there was nothing more that Mac wanted than for him to be at her side at that moment. "Let's change subjects before we drive each other nuts." Although she didn't want to. "What happened today?"

("Lots actually. . .So much that I don't think I have enough charge on the battery to explain." He considered everything that Bobbi had told him. It had been a hell of a lot to take in, so he just stuck to specifics. "To make a long story short, Bobbi was also up for the SECNAV's chair, along with a few other women in politics. She has some dirty little secret on Hewitt and wouldn't mind using it in order to bring her down and slip into that chair herself.")

Mac couldn't help but cringe, though Bobbi was generally one of those 'for the good of the people' types, there had been many times where they'd butted heads. Bringing her even closer to the Navy wasn't sitting particularly well. "Bobbi Latham as SECNAV. Is that a good thing?"

("I guess it depends on who you ask. . .Personally, I think she's the lesser of two evils. . .Hey, if you're worried about working with her, you can handle yourself, Mac. I've seen you do it. The Osprey investigation was just one huge example.")

"You're just being biased, sailor." Mac said with a sigh, then added, "Besides, I had a little help by a certain Squid Aviator turned Squid Lawyer turned Squid PI, I know."

("Yeah, yeah, yeah. . .That squid would be nothing without a certain, charming Marine as his partner." God he missed her. Was it even possible to miss someone this much if they were only a few miles away? "Listen, as much as it pains me, I think we need to keep the phone calls to a minimum. . .You know how to use all of the devices I have in our office. . .Keep them on you at all times and just charge them when you are home.")

Yes, Mac knew about the devices which she had gotten a crash course on before an investigation she'd helped him out in. They were rather nifty, especially the small microphone/camera combo that was hidden inside a button of her Marine green jacket. With just a twist of the button, the image would, immediately, zoom in. "Already doing that, boss. . .I also checked the house when I walked in. . .Oh, and you never gave me an answer on sticking something on Vukovic."

("Mac, it's risky. . .If he finds it. .. Not to mention, Hewitt's goons check everyone, it will beep.")

"Okay, if not on him, what about in his house?" That was one place she really didn't want to venture into, but if it helped, it would do more good than harm. She took another lick of the ice cream.

(Harm's deep sigh signified the surmounting frustration they both were feeling. "I really would sleep better at night knowing you're no where near his place.")

"Awww, Harm. You don't have to be jealous. I'll promise to behave." She teased.

("Cute, Marine. . .Cute." He knew that her being alone in Vic's domain was a bad idea. Predators like Vukovic felt more comfortable in their territory. If he decided to snap, Mac wouldn't have a chance. No Marine, Leatherneck Square techniques could save her. And still, he knew that saying 'no' would be a blow to her ego, something that he needed her to keep intact. "Fine, if you get the chance, stick the mini cam somewhere. . .Just, please, please, please, be careful. We don't know what he's really capable of.")

"You know I will." The conversation was drawing to a close, though Mac wanted nothing more than to keep Harm on the line, to hear his voice.

("Oh, and Mac? Can you make sure we're stocked up on those fudgesicles?" He couldn't hold back the huskiness of his voice if he tried.)

"Uh, sure. . .Why? Are you PMSing and in need of chocolate?" She chuckled. Though both she and Harm had a love for ice cream, her affection with the cool, sticky treat was just greater. Men would never understand the needs that women had for comfort foods, specifically ice cream.

(Harm's grin was down right sexy, too bad she couldn't see it. "Nope, I just have a certain mental picture about a really damned sexy, completely naked female Marine and the chocolate ice cream that I am just dying to lick off of her body.")

"Oh, my." Thankfully she'd finished off the ice cream else, she'd definitely be wearing more of it.

("Sweet dreams, beautiful. . .I love you.")

"I love you, too. . .Stay safe, Harm." Taking a shaky sigh, Mac threw her legs over the side of the bed and headed towards the shower. "Sweet dreams? Hell, maybe after a cold shower."