A/N: Is there hope for Mac's recovery? Just what will it take?

Therapy

Bethesda Naval Hospital
1400 Local

Lt. Colonel Sarah Mackenzie tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair while waiting for the doctor to finish looking over her file. This was her second session with Cdr. Maria Hernandez, her first as an outpatient.

She'd been discharged from Bethesda three days earlier but hadn't been cleared to return to duty and wouldn't be until she'd undergone counseling. Admiral Chegwidden had been in total agreement with the doctors. No amount of pleading on her part would make him change his mind.

"Colonel, I care about your well-being," he'd said. "You've been holding your grief over Harm inside for too long. I blame myself for not seeing it sooner. You're not ready to return to duty. Effective immediately, you're on a medical leave of absence for at least the next month. We'll reevaluate at that time."

"But, Admiral." She'd tried to protest.

He held up his hand to stop her. "Mac, you need this. You can't afford to have any more episodes like what happened in the courtroom a few days ago. Fortunately, Admiral Morris was understanding."

Mac, ever the marine, put the needs of the military before her own. "What about the case, sir?"

"Defense requested a mistrial. Morris declined the motion. Members found Lt. Reaves guilty of negligent homicide."

"Thank God for that."

"The evidence against him was strong. But you don't need to be worried about the case, or any others. Sturgis has redistributed them. What you do need is to concentrate on getting better."

Today she found herself sitting in Dr. Hernandez's office. Mac guessed the commander was in her early forties with long, dark hair that she pulled back in a bun and the deepest brown eyes Mac had ever seen. She seemed to be a likable person.

Could be worse. If Jordan Parker were still alive, you could have been stuck with her. Mac didn't wish ill of the dead, but there was no way on God's green earth she would have consented to a counseling session with Harm's ex.

"Colonel Mackenzie?"

It took Mac a moment to realize the doctor was speaking to her. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Let's talk about Commander Rabb."

Mac closed her eyes and turned away. "I'd rather not."

"Why is that?"

"It doesn't have any bearing on why I'm here today."

"No?"

"No."

"Then humor me. I want to know more about him. What was the nature of your relationship?"

Mac sighed. The doctor had seen her file. She wasn't going to give up. Might as well get this over with. "We were partners for eight years."

"Partners?"

"At JAG. We worked together."

The doctor leaned back in the chair, then folded her hands together. "Was there something more to the relationship?"

"Harm is… was… my best friend. He knew things about me that I never told anyone else."

"Such as?"

"My alcoholism. The relationship with my father. The fact that my mother abandoned me when I was fifteen."

"You felt comfortable talking with him."

"I trusted him."

"What about Harm? Did he trust you enough to confide in you as well?"

Mac paused to reflect. Men were almost always more reserved than women, but she recalled a time early in their relationship. They'd played hooky to go flying and encountered a group of crazed poachers. She had been unrelenting in her criticism of Harm's "obsession" with his plane. It was the first time he'd told her about his father. Later, he'd come to her when he escaped from the brig after being accused of killing the Russian. "Yes, he trusted me."

"I see. His death hurt you deeply."

"Wouldn't you be hurt if your best friend was killed?"

Maria Hernandez didn't answer. "Were you and Commander Rabb involved?"

"I told you we were best friends."

"Nothing more?"

Mac hesitated. Yes, he was the love of my life except we spent too many years dancing around our feelings. And once we finally confessed to one another, we only had a few months together.

"May I call you Sarah?"

"Most people call me Mac."

"Okay, Mac. I can assure you that everything we discuss is confidential under doctor-patient relationship. You can tell me anything. The only thing public about our sessions will be my recommendation of whether you're able to return to active duty."

"And when will that be?"

"It all depends on how much progress you make." The doctor leaned forward in her chair. "You don't have to be afraid to talk to me. I'm here to help you."

A sense of ease washed over Mac. She could trust this woman—needed to trust this woman. "Harm and I were lovers. And if he wasn't dead, I'm so angry I could kill him myself."

Bethesda Naval Hospital
Four Weeks Later

Mac's therapy sessions had helped tremendously. For the first time in months, she was no longer angry with Harm. It hadn't been easy. One particular session was grueling. Mac alternately cried and lashed out in anger. At times, it took every ounce of her will to remain in the office as she told Dr. Hernandez about Harm's death.

"Tell me what happened."

"He was on a mission with the CIA. Most of the details are classified but I do know he was flying in a remote location in South America."

"He was a pilot? I thought you said he was a lawyer."

"Both. Harm began his Navy career as a pilot before circumstances grounded him." Mac told of Harm's accident and his night blindness. "After that, he went to law school and ended up at JAG. That's where we met."

"So, he was eventually able to fly again?"

"Yes. In fact, he left me five years ago to return to a fighter squadron."

"Left you?"

"I mean he left JAG. We were just friends then. When he came back, it was hard for us to get our friendship back on track. We both made mistakes."

"Let's get back to his last mission. You said it was part of a CIA operation. Why did they involve Commander Rabb?"

"He and I often worked with the CIA. Or I should say with one person, Clayton Webb."

"Was Webb responsible for Harm's involvement in the last mission?"

Mac closed her eyes. She hated to even speak Clay's name. If not for him, Harm would be alive. "Yes. He had a knack screwing up all his missions. Harm and I saved the day for him several times."

"But not this time."

"No. I don't know what happened. Webb only said Harm's plane crashed and exploded on impact. Claims everything else is classified, but that's his standard answer. Especially when he doesn't want to reveal the truth."

"You blame him for Commander Rabb's death?"

"I blame both Webb and Harm." Mac rose from her chair and began pacing the floor.

"Damn him. Damn both of them! Harm didn't have to do this, you know? There were plenty of other qualified pilots. But no, Harm had to go off to save the day. Play the hero." Her tears began to fall.

Dr. Hernandez sat quietly, allowing Mac to talk through her frustrations.

"Why, why, why?"

"Is this part of the reason you came down so hard on that pilot in the courtroom?"

Mac stopped, then whirled around. "How did you know about that?"

"I don't know the details of the trial. Only that you accused someone of trying to play the hero. Tell me, was there a difference in what that man did and what Commander Rabb would have done?"

Mac thought for a moment. Harm was arrogant and definitely confident in his abilities as a pilot. Yes, he'd taken plenty of chances in his life. Yes, he and Mac had a knack for getting in trouble every time they flew together. But she trusted Harm. He wouldn't take unnecessary chances and risk her life or the lives of others to prove his skills. "Harm wouldn't deliberately put anyone else in danger."

"So, his volunteering for this mission had nothing to do with proving himself to others?"

"No, but he still didn't have to go. It was voluntary."

"What would you have done?"

"Me? I'm not a pilot."

"But what would you have done if the CIA had asked to go on a mission involving the marines? Even a dangerous one."

She didn't hesitate to answer. "I would have gone."

Mac recalled that particularly painful session as she sat in Dr. Hernandez's office today. Not only had she been able to get over her anger to Harm, she'd also worked through some unresolved issues with her father, as well as her reasons for turning to Mic Brumby so quickly after she'd perceived Harm rejected her.

As much as Mac hated to admit Mic had been right about anything, he had been correct when he told her she didn't want to be alone. She hadn't loved Mic. She loved the life he promised her. Marriage, a home, a family.

Sure, he took advantage of her in a weak moment. He took advantage of her throughout their relationship—pushing and prodding her into making decisions before she was ready. Made her feel guilty so that she'd move the ring. But he finally saw what she'd known all along. She was in love with Harm.

Always had been. Always would be. Mac doubted she'd ever find love again—not that she cared. The therapy sessions had also made her see she was a strong, independent woman. She had a good career. Despite the incident with John Farrow and an Article 32 on her record, her fit reps had been exemplary. No reason why she couldn't advance in rank. The military would become her life.

Naturally, she'd rather have Harm, but fate deemed otherwise. She no longer feared being alone, and she didn't need a man to make her happy. Besides, after Harm, anyone else would be second best.

"You've made remarkable progress," Cdr. Hernandez said. "Matter of fact, we can stop the twice-weekly sessions in favor of once a month, and only then if you feel the need."

"Does this mean I'm ready to return to duty?"

"Not quite."

Mac frowned. "I thought you said I could stop the sessions. Why won't you sign off on me returning to work?"

Dr. Hernandez folded her hands together, something Mac noticed she did when deep in thought.

"Mac, how long has it been since you did something for yourself?"

"I'm not sure I understand."

"When was the last time you took a trip?"

"Just before they put me in the hospital. I had to go to a carrier for an investigation."

"I don't mean that. I'm talking about taking a real vacation. Getting completely away from Washington for a while."

"Except for a stolen weekend with Harm, it's been a while." Sydney didn't count because she was on "official business."

"What would be your ideal vacation?"

"I've always been fond of the beach. But right now, I'm not interested in being somewhere there are large crowds. I don't care to do the touristy thing."

"Something more secluded? Maybe a private condo or house?"

Mac thought about the weekend she and Harm slipped away to his parent's beach house in the Bahamas. "Yes, something like that would be perfect."

"Then, I know just the place."