Chapter 28 - Jealousy

Mac laced her hands together and closed her eyes. She imagined it was Harm holding her hand, fingers threaded through hers as they drove to Falls Church. He'd taken her hand almost immediately once the car pulled out into the road and only let her go once they got to security.

Reassuringly he'd squeezed her hand so many times and sneaked in as many glances in her direction. Harm was pretending to be her rock but she could see the apprehension lingering around the edges, the light in his eyes that was dimmed. He didn't want to be back in Washington despite the brief levity they shared from her returning home.

They stood side by side in the elevator, the back of his hand gingerly brushing over hers. Maybe wearing their 'armor' was the wrong move because it almost forbade them from showing affections in public even if headquarters was practically desolate on Saturday's.

The ding of the elevator made her eyes snap open and she followed behind Harm who pushed and held one of the glass doors which displayed the JAG insignia. It was familiar and yet foreign because in one respect the Lt. Colonel's life was simply paused while that of an Irianin woman filled the emptiness.

"Part of me feels like I don't belong here anymore." She said, finally passing through to the darkened bullpen. Mac didn't dare look around, she didn't want to see someone else's name hanging where hers should have been. She never asked him who was his partner now and felt a lick of unsubstantiated jealousy that it could be another woman.

Harm hadn't strayed, of that Mac was certain but, if he never found her, if she was pronounced dead, who might have filled that void left in his life? Would he have fallen for a new partner? She bit her lower lip and continued moving making a beeline for Chegwiden's anteroom.

As her heels clicked on the tiled floor the unique smells of the office gave her a little comfort. Ink, paper, wood cleaner and an odd odor she could never pinpoint. She also smelled him, the scent of aftershave and cologne that belonged with the other smells.

The outer room was dark, the only light coming from the Admiral's office where she stopped before entering. "Lt. Colonel MacKenzie and Commander Rabb reporting, sir." She had snapped to attention still as crisp as ever although her hands shook.

Behind her, Harm did not offer the same curtesy and nearly barrled into her when Mac stopped suddenly. It wasn't Chegwidden that told them to come in but the sight of the one man who had taken on the brunt of all the torture just to keep her safe.

Her mind could still hear his screams. She could still smell the sweat and blood, a heady combination which made Mac swallow hard. If she never remembered Paraguay again, she would be forever thankful. "Clay!"

"Hey Sarah." The spy caught her in his arms when she practically threw herself at him. Her head came into the crook of his neck, arms enveloping him in the tightest of hugs. He wasn't the crying type but finding Sarah alive and well was reason for such emotion.

Webb blamed himself for her disappearance. If he hadn't requested her, if he hadn't screwed up so badly before that the agency put him on such a crap assignment. True, most of what happened wasn't his fault. There was a mole he didn't know about, a driver that could be bought and the operation had been planned to wrap up in just a few weeks. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, Sarah."

Mac separated enough from him to run her hands over his torso as if checking for injuries that had long healed. "I expected...I don't know. You were in such bad shape."

He reached for the cane that lay against one of the chairs. "I'm better than they expected. No more field duty."

"Oh, it's so wonderful to see you." She enveloped him again, it was the only way Mac tought of thanking him for keeping the terrorists away as much as possible. "I heard you made deputy director…"

Harm slipped into the shadows purposely staying in a corner near a shelf lined with all sorts of priceless mementos. He felt gut punched seeing Mac's face light up when she saw Webb, all of their conversation drowned out in favor of pure jealousy.

Irrational as it was, all he could do was keep away for the want to grab Clayton Webb by the throat and squeeze the very life out of him was fueled by the green monster that raged inside. His hands balled into fists, his chest heaved and he only noticed a figure in Navy blues standing next to him because the man spoke.

"Welcome home, Commander." It was Chegwidden and the even temper of his voice implied he knew what Harm was feeling. Damnit, was he that obvious? Did he see the red in his face when Mac touched Webb's arm when they kept talking about God knew what?

"Thank you."

"Mac looks better than I thought she would. How is she, really?"

"I don't know." He spoke through gritted teeth and decided he needed time alone. "Ask her." Harm threw over his shoulder as he turned away and headed out.

Chegwidden wanted to stop the other man but something in Harm's eyes told him it was best to let things go for the moment, he would speak to his subordinate in private. "Colonel? Don't I get a hug?"

"Admiral! Of course, sir. I'm sorry.. I just."

"It's okay, Mac. Welcome home." Chegsidden's eyes misted and the normally gruff commanding officer held onto Mac as if she were his own daughter. The man lived with his own guilt at letting Mac go, of forcing Harm to resign in order to find her. He felt guilty for allowing Harm to make that reckless decision to not let her visit him at the brig that he believed eventually led to Mac leaving with Webb.

He was torn at not believing Harm's quest to find her was valid, simply thinking it was a ploy of a depressed and desperate man. "Next time you get married, you let me know. You owe me a walk down the aisle."

Mac stepped back, she didn't remember if Harm had told Chegwidden but clearly he knew. "It wasn't our intention to lie to you. I was just...and he.. " She stopped and took a breath. Honestly? There was only one reason and to her it made perfect sense. "I love him. I love him and I said yes. Consequences didn't matter as long as I had him."

Chegwidden smirked, his thumbs swiped at the tears on her face. "We'll figure it out, I promise."

Harm found himself wandering towards an empty courtroom, a place he often found solace when it was dark and quiet. The wooden bench cracked and groaned when he sat into it. He could count with one hand how many times he'd sat as a guest viewing the proceedings of a case.

This wasn't the side that he favored, there was no life, no drama, no action or adrenaline. He needed that fuel because the uncertainty of an outcome made him feel like he was shooting off a carrier at 165 mph.

"Fuck!" He said out loud and the word he'd never dared utter in these walls echoed in the cavernous room. His shoulders dropped, the demeanor of that confident Naval officer deteriorated to nothing. What the hell was he doing?

Hadn't he promised never to leave her side? But it took one stupid interacton with Clayton Webb for all of his insecurities to manifest themselves to the point that he had to walk away. He would have hit Clay and been satisfied feeling the bones of his face shatter against his fists. It would have surely angered Mac but Harm knew he'd end Webb then and there.

For all of the blame he carried on his own shoulders, that assignment was the impetus that tore Mac away from him. They could have fixed things, they would have fixed things instead of living this goddamned miserable existence of his life.

He slammed his fist into the bench, enjoying the mild satisfaction from the pain. He slammed it again and again until the skin tore and his knuckles were bloody. That physical pain eased the one over his heart, that dull ache that manifested and would never leave.

And then, Mac found him. He could tell by the sweet scent that suddenly replaced the staleness of the room because he barely heard the door open. The wood bench groaned under their combined weight as she settled next to him and wordlessly dropped her head onto his shoulder.

That hurt too because Harm suddenly felt guilty for his jealousy and the stupid comment that spewed from his lips like venom. "Nice to see you and Webb so chummy."

"Please don't be jealous of Clay."

"I'm not jealous."

Mac raised her head to look at him. "I'd hate to see it when you are. Talk to me."

He tightened his fist, the one that was actively bleeding and was surprised it didn't hurt as bad as it should. "Have you ever... been interested in him? Romantically? Because I think..I'd bet money he'd sell his soul to have you."

"No, absolutely not. He reminds me too much of a guy I dated in college, they're both mama's boys." And those three piece suits were ridiculous. She shivered at the thought of a relationship with Clayton Webb. The man was too prim and proper for her taste and likely wrapped the bed in cellophane to keep things nice and neat during sex. It was obvious why the only Mrs. Webb in Clay's life was his mother.

"We went through something, Webb and me that I wouldn't wish on anyone. He kept me safe for a while, kept me from being tortured. I'm indebted to him."

He nodded, equally as indebted. "I know. I am too." If Webb hadn't given up his medical care in favor of Harm's, the Naval officer would have died out in the Chaco. The spy made sure Harm was cared for and that the doctor had him stabilized before looking at his own injuries.

When her head came back to his shoulder Harm felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. What the hell was happening to him? "I'm an ass...I'm sorry. I just...I'm a mess."

"I can see that." He cringed when Mac grabbed his hand studying the knuckles bloodied with broken skin and knuckles that would likely bruise over. "Why would you do this to yourself?"

She reached inside his breast pocket and pulled out his handkerchief to dab at the blood which ran in rivulets from his middle knuckle down. Now, more than ever Mac realized the conversation she had with the Admiral thirty minutes earlier rang true. Harm needed help and want it or not, she would get it for him at all costs. "Talk to me, Harm."

"I guess I don't have firewood to obliterate here." He tried to joke only to hear an annoyed sigh from his wife.

"That's not funny." Mac pressed a palm to his cheek, turning his face so that he'd look at her. She left it resting there, running her thumb back and forth over his freshly shaved skin. "Talk to me, please."

Her eyes were an intense shade of amber which caught the light shining through the window. Mac looked at him with the side eyes of a woman that was concerned because she loved him.

Sarah MacKenzie loved him and he needed to remember that.

One hand held his, the one that he'd punched into the bench repeatedly if for no other reason that to feel pain. He felt the warmth of her palm through the handkerchief. Her other hand was still pressed to the side of his face gingerly touching him, holding him still so that he wouldn't turn away from her gaze. "I'm scared you'll leave me."

Harm didn't realize he voiced his insecurity out loud until it was too late to take them back. And he was scared, terrified that being back home meant they would settle and tear eachother apart because of it. There was also Nazanin to consider and the imminent debrief that would likely open an endless casom of memories he didn't want Mac to have.

"And don't promise me you won't. Neither of us can make that promise."

She sighed. "You're right. We can't but we can fight to keep us together. You found me. You brought me back."

"And I'd do it all over again. I wouldn't stop until you remembered." He would. All of it. Resigning his commission, traveling to Paraguay, getting shot, nearly dying. Harm knew he'd gladly put himself through all of that again all for her. "I told myself if you kept insisting you were someone else that I'd let you go."

He wouldn't have. He couldn't because Mac wouldn't have given up on him either. "Neither of us would have. We're equally stubborn that way.". Her hand came back to caress his face, gently tracing his jaw. "Even if Nazanin comes back, don't let me go. Find me again."

"I will. I love you, Mac. I wish I would have told you sooner but, I do love you. And I won't stop telling you."

She brought her hand away from his cheek and tilted her head slightly. A gentle smile graced her lips as she leaned in and kissed him. "We just broke a few more regs."

Despite the war within him, Harm had to laugh. "Well, let's break it again." And then he kissed her back, his tongue sweeping between her lips to touch hers.

That is how Chegwidden found his two officers - in uniform, sitting in an empty courtroom kissing. He let the door shut gently behind him and gave them a few minutes.

"Langley? I thought we would set up here for the debrief. It's what we agreed to over the sat phone." Mac sar in one of the guest chairs and glanced between Webb and Chegwidden. Her tone was even but her eyes went wide at having any further involvement with the CIA given the fiasco that was Paraguay.

Chegwidden glared at Webb who merely shook his head. "We can't do it this way, Sarah. There are protocols, recording devices none of which can leave Church."

Church, as she'd come to understand, were sealed rooms in the bowels of Langley where agents of high profile, clandestine assignments were taken. The walls were immensely thick and lined with lead. There were no windows and the door was something of a vault; impenetrable.

Some prisoners had been taken there as well, locked up in an adjacent cell that was equally secure while the agency's team worked on breaking every last secret out of them. "Eugenia won't come here."

"Then find someone who will."

"Sarah, I can't. Look, you called me and I'm grateful you're that kind of stoic Marine but, there are still things at stake and I can't trust your safety here."

Mac felt exposed, like she was tilting her head back to allow the enemy to cut through her jugular. She looked towards Harm who'd become dangerously quiet and had a hand wrapped so hard around the arm of the chair that his knuckles were white. She could practically hear his thoughts and wanted him to grab her, whisk her away from this place and back to their cabin.

He stood suddenly, coming to full height when Webb reached out to touch Mac. "You had a mole. You recently had a security breach. How the hell do you think you can keep her safe?"

Webb frowned. "The breech was faked in order to find the mole. It's been taken care of. No one knows Mac's been found other than the four of us."

"What about Farid? He's bound to have people looking for her. I'm surprised it wasn't an international incident, the wife of…"

"He hasn't said a word. Just left Washington without one grievance which leads us to believe that he either knows who Sarah is or at least knows he's basically had an American hostage for three years."

That made sense as the reason why the mention of Farid's wives hadn't come to light in Paris only that a Naval officer had attacked the man. "If he knew who Mac was why would he bring her here?"

"I agree with Harm, that doesn't make sense." Chegwidden added.

"It doesn't matter why he brought me here." Mac yelled when the men all began to give different suggestions as to why Farid had her. It was still a mystery to her, how she wound up in Tehran, a wife to a man she didn't know. She wanted answers, she needed them in order to put the past to rest and move on. "Eugenia works with hypnosis doesn't she? That's why she's your top officer for debriefs."

"She doesn't always use hypnosis. She's just good at getting people to talk. It's almost like a therapist."

The woman was something of a CIA legend which Mac had met before leaving for Paraguay. She was older, at least over 60 but looked to be in her mid-40s. The woman dressed like a high profile lawyer and had the kind of eyes that instilled fear not trust. She was their best at getting an officer to divulge even the most hidden information. She was likely the one used to get the enemy talking as well and Mac could imagine her enjoying the act of torture. "I want to know what happened to me. I have to know."