Clayton Webb did not look comfortable sitting on her sofa and Meg did not feel comfortable having him sitting there. It was too late to start second-guessing inviting him in though, so she merely placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of him and sat down opposite him.

"I am not going to take a great deal of your time," he broke the awkward silence. "In fact, I have only come here because I need your help."

"Help to do what?"

"Help to locate Colonel Sarah Mackenzie."

Meg kept her face neutral. She wasn't stupid. She had immediately registered the surname Webb and connected it with a feverish rambling of the woman she had helped to get away from The Starlight motel. The woman who then occupied Harm's arms. His bed. She talked about this man and while it was hardly clear, Meg got the impression it was not favourable.

"I don't even know the Colonel," she countered. "I am merely a temporary replacement for her at the office. What makes you think I would know her whereabouts? Aren't there others who might steer you in the right direction? Like, say, her actual co-workers?"

Clayton Webb stared at her inquisitively for a moment.

"So you do know she has been missing."

Meg shrugged her shoulders. "People have mentioned it at work."

"People like Rabb?"

"And others. She has worked at JAG for quite a few years now from what I gathered."

"Nine years," he said. "I know that. I was the one who orchestrated her transfer. And so indirectly introduced her to Rabb."

Meg rose one eyebrow. That sounded like an interesting story, to say the least.


Doctor Bennet visited Harm's apartment that same day. He was cordial and polite, still, Mac refused to talk to him, just stared. So the conversation was between the doctor and Harm only. Yes, the fever was down, thank God. Yes, she has started eating, even if only small morsels at a time. She was not comfortable letting William touch her and it took Harm a great deal of persuasion to make her let the good doctor see her battered feet and take out the stitches. When she finally allowed it, Mac merely buried her face into the pillow, trembling all over. She remained that way for the rest of the doctor's visit, not even wishing him goodbye.

"She definitely looks better," William told Harm as he was leaving, keeping his voice low. "Her feet are still a mess and she should not walk around too much for a few more days. It will hurt her like hell, seeing some of the cuts were pretty deep. Does she have any other problems at all?"

"She has complained about her back hurting," Harm divulged. "Most likely from her endometriosis."

"She has endometriosis? Well then, I could prescribe some powerful painkiller," the doctor offered.

"You could, but I am not sure she will take them."

"Why wouldn't she?"

Harm did not feel comfortable giving this man all of Mac's secrets and complicated history at the moment, so he merely said: "She is a pig-headed Marine who has been brainwashed into thinking it would make her weak."

William just rolled his eyes.

"Well, let me know is she changes her mind."

"I will."

"Also, Harm, I am no psychologist, but I think it's kind of obvious she is severely depressed. Is she being treated for that?"

Harm nervously fidgeted with the keys in the door lock, not meeting Will's eyes.

"No, not as far as I know. But I am trying her to get to talk. Once she is better, I want her to... to get her into some kind of therapy."

"The sooner the better, don't wait too long," Will warned. "Is it something that has been plaguing her for long? Or has she been through any trauma recently?" Even though it was veiled as a question, there was no mistaking William already believing the second conclusion.

"Look, Will, I don't know what happened," Harm admitted finally. "She was missing for a few days. I found her like this. I am doing my best and will continue to do so to make her better. You have been a great help, but I know her. She will not talk until she is ready. She id not ready just yet and I will not pressure her into anything. She has had enough assholes doing that in her life already."

William eyed him for a moment, then smiled. "You have it bad, don't you? Well, if there is anything I can help with, just let me know."


"If you are such a good friend of Harm, why are you here? Why haven't you gone to him?" Meg asked. The story Webb has given her left her bewildered. Harm. Mac. Webb. CIA operations. Kidnapped professors. Stolen state documents. Faked murders. Faked pregnancies. What in the world has Harm been actually doing at JAG? She knew him. She had taken part in a few of the escapades that seemed to follow in his wake. But listening to the spook on her sofa made her feel like a spectator of some hair-brained TV show.

"He is the only person whom I cannot ask," Webb answered and for a moment lowered his head into his hands. He looked tired. The whole time he was talking, he kept closing his eyes as if to clear his memory.

"Any why is that?"

"Because while I consider him my friend, he no longer considers me his."

"Why?" Meg repeated to prompt him. His silences were becoming longer.

"A little over a year ago," Webb eventually continued. "After that mission to Paraguay, he started to hate me. He used every single opportunity to belittle me when we met. He undermined my position with my superiors during the short time he was with the CIA. He tarnished my reputation with every word spoken on my behalf."

Webb stood up from the sofa and wandered aimlessly through the living room as if inspecting every detail of it but not really seeing any. The slump of his shoulders only further convinced Meg that this was a deeply exhausted man. He looked and sounded so defeated she could not help but to be somehow sorry for him.

"I don't believe Harm would do a thing like that," she countered still. "The Harm I know is loyal to his friends. Steadfast. Unless you have given him a cause, of course."

Webb let out a short, bitter laugh. "But I have!" he exclaimed. "I have given him a cause which destroyed our friendship. And worse, it keeps destroying my life."

"You need to explain," Meg shook her head. Clayton Webb leaned heavily against the window.

"I have committed a crime of falling in love with Sarah Mackenzie. And worse. I had her falling in love with me."


It took Harm almost thirty full minutes after William left to coax Mac from under the blankets.

"Come on, Marine. It's just us again," he said, sitting by her side and gently tugging a the sheet. When she let it go it revealed her face and two red-rimmed eyes. He wondered if she would ever know how much her tears hurt his very soul. He kissed her nose and made no comment when she curled up into his welcoming arms. They have spent most of the days like that. Occasionally he would get up. Go to the bathroom or take her there. Prepare some light meal or brew some tea. Get a book or a file. But mostly he was sitting in bed, while she slept or pretended to sleep. In his arms and on his chest. In the crook of his neck. With her back pressed to his front. Or just very, very close as he tried to do at least some paperwork for the office.

He had no brain power to concentrate on work right now though. William's words reminded him of something he had chosen to ignore. He had been so concentrated on trying to get Mac better physically he decided to believe that her inner demons would just disappear as her body would gain back its strength. That somehow every pancake she ate would chase away a bad dream. Every cup of tea would make a painful memory obsolete. And every kiss would bring the morning she would just rise with a smile on her face a little closer.

He was fooling himself.

Mac's pitiful condition was not the reason for her state of mind. It was the result of it. If she were to heal, truly heal, she needed more than just being comfortably tucked in, bribed with small chocolates and presented with dinosaur-shaped toasts.

She needed to share her pain.

And he knew he was the only person in the world she might be willing to share it with.

He realized at that moment that he was terrified of whatever was lurking in the darkness of her possible confession.

He didn't want to know.

He needed to know.


"How is falling in love with anyone a crime?" Meg asked but she already knew she was not going to like the answer. "If you love her and she loves you, what is the problem? Why are you here in the first place? Why is she not in your flat instead of..." she bit her lip. Too late. Webb might look like a cat had dragged him in, but he caught on immediately.

"Instead of?" he pressed. "You wanted to say something? What was it? She would be at my place instead of where?"

"Instead of wherever she is at the moment," Meg tried to save herself, but she could tell by the look on his face it did not work.

"You know where she is," he stated. "But to answer your question: in case you haven't noticed Harm is ... obsessed with Sarah. Always has been. But in recent years his obsession with her has made him nearly paranoid. Even dangerous. To everyone who gets involved with her. And I am terrified that he is a danger to Sarah herself too now."

Meg's mouth suddenly felt dry. Obsessed with Sarah. The words slammed into her like a freight train. Obsessed with Sara. Obsessed.

Everything clicked into place at once.

Harmon Rabb quitting his TAD assignment pretty much against orders. Harmon Rabb angry, snappy, unpleasant and nervous at the office. She never knew him to be like that before. Harmon Rabb almost accepting her advances, dancing with her in a tight embrace, her flesh tingling with his touch, only to throw it all away to race into a seedy motel because Sarah Mackenzie was there. It all made sense now. His agitation, his almost violent manner which, quite frankly, scared her. His refusal to even let go of the woman when she offered to help her shower. Him blocking everything out, even her own presence, because he was so damn focused on the other woman. The woman who looked like Dianne Schonke.

It made sense. It made perfect sense. Harmon Rabb was obsessed with a woman who looked like his long lost love and in his mind, he could not bear that she belonged to someone else.

Meg's heart hurt for Harm. For herself. Even for Webb. This was not healthy for any of them. It needed to be resolved. And after it was all dealt with... only then they could all heal. Webb and this Sarah. Harm and...

"I know Rabb," Webb continued. "He thinks he needs to save her. It doesn't matter from what or who. He has sabotaged all of her previous relationships. I will be damned if I let him ruin ours. Right now Mac is somewhere out there," he made a vague gesture which ended with his hand running through his hair in frustration. "And I know Rabb is looking for her. You are his friend. That is why I came to you. Please, tell me. Has he talked to you about this? Any of this? Had he given any indication that he might know where she is?"

He was standing right in front of her now, despair written in his features. He looked pathetic and did nothing to hide it. A man with no pride left. What kind of love does that to a person?

"I... I haven't talked to Harm in a few days," she admitted.

"But you know, surely, you know something?" he implored. She wondered for a moment if he would fall to his knees in front of her. He didn't, but she felt a wave of profound sympathy rise within her. This man was in love. As much, if not more, than she was. He deserved to be with the woman he loved. More and more Meg convinced herself that Mac in her pitiful state of body and mind was simply confused. Who knows whatever had gone on in her fever-stricken brain back at that motel? The longer Meg thought about it the less sense the few words uttered that night had.

"Harm... he is not looking for her," she said carefully.

"Surely you don't expect me to believe that," Webb almost laughed. She looked him straight in the eye.

"He doesn't have to look for her. She is currently in his own bed."