"I know: you were kissing *her*"

A/N: AU. This is a fictional story, in a fictional Alternative Universe, about fictional characters who entertained us in a fictional TV series between 1995 and 2005. Mike. Characters borrowed with love and appreciation for the great team who brought us "JAG"; may your following careers blossom.

A/N: AU: "they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them - apart from any fictional character created by myself". Feel free to PM me if you spot any typos - my goal is 100% error-free. Your opinions, critiques (and requests as PMs) are always welcomed.

A/N: Publication date: 06-Feb-2021: A definite one-off, exploring a scene in Season 3. Plus, a nod to those regulars who have often asked me (usually as anonymous guest reviewers) to write a Harm/Mac interaction. It is my pleasure to oblige you.

A/N – link to Canon Episodes: "Death Watch" (S03Ep19) first broadcast 31-MAR-1998. A nod to "Skeleton Crew" (S01EP22) – filmed in 1H-1996, but which then went un-broadcast until 1998-99 depending upon region and DVD set. Also a flashback to "We the people" (S02Ep01) first broadcast 03-JAN-1997.

Characters from FFNET – Sarah "Mac" McKenzie: OC

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Dockside, Norfolk Naval Yard: alongside berth of USS Sheppard.

Date: Tuesday 31st March 1998

Time: 04:20hrs EST

She was glad that she had caught up with him; they had only been partnered for 16 months, but she had already come to trust him. In fairness, the first 48 hours of their working relationship had sealed a strong and near-unbreakable bond between them, as he had first trusted her on that desert road and then hung off the skids of the helo to assist her.

She had felt their relationship had moved firmly forward earlier this particular evening; not that she expected anything truly romantic, because they were JAG partners. However, being ditched in the rain was something that she would need to discuss firmly with her partner - whenever she tracked him down!

Several things had fallen into place for Sarah Mackenzie, earlier that evening, after she had simply dropped round to Harm's. She had intended to review the Lt Murphy case (and for Harm to try out his culinary skills on her) as they had promised earlier that afternoon.

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Flashback – earlier on the Monday night, Harmon Rabb's apartment

Seeing her JAG partner dressed up like "Secret Agent Man" in all-black – and with a weapon tucked into the back of his trouser belt – was a bit of a shock.

What the hell was he up to? She walked towards the table, evaluating her options:

"Talk to me, Harm."

When she had looked to the table (to ensure that his cigar was safely sitting in the bowl), she had spotted a small inch-square photograph amongst the scattered letters and postcards with their discarded pink ribbons. Leaning down, she had picked it up.

Her heart skipped a beat when she looked at the woman's face. She turned to Harm, dawning realisation showing in her dark eyes.

"No wonder you looked like you had seen a ghost when we first met. This could be me"...

Then Harm had begun to tell the story of his lost/doomed love, Lt Diane Schonke and the tragedy of her murder, some two years before. She was somewhat comforted that he outlined their differences.

Suddenly, everything had fallen into place – including his comments on their first meeting ("sorry, she was Navy") and his response to her question on that first night, as she drove the crumbling station-wagon along the drowned roads of Arizona towards Red Rock Mesa.

"I guess I have a twin out there somewhere."

She had needed to keep her eyes laser-aligned on the road, but his voice seemed to come from the depths of a crypt:

"...not any more."

Sixteen months later, now she knew why. This chunk of the hidden life of Harmon Rabb was no longer hidden - and she loved him for his honesty in revealing the story of Diane Schonke.

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In that instant, Mac had revised her approach and her opinion of her handsome aviator lawyer colleague. Whatever she may have wished for in their times away from JAG, it was now quite clear to her that "getting jiggy" with Harmon Rabb jr was a non-starter. The loss of Diane had influenced him deeply.

But "keeping secrets" cuts both ways.

She knew that he had worked out the John Farrow story for himself a few months back, but she hadn't told anybody that she was still ("technically" she tried to convince herself) married to that idiot Ragle (wherever the hell he might be lurking under a rock!). Could she even find her wedding band or had she dumped it somewhere along the highways and byways of her love life?

"Yeah, nice move Mackenzie; you don't have the right to beat your partner up for keeping secrets."

Later on that night, she had realised the disadvantage of dressing for pleasure earlier in the evening. When Harm "ditched" her to head off to Norfolk, her cleavage-revealing sweater had simply funnelled all the rainwater down into her navel, via the valley between her breasts, on a mainline running straight to her panties. She had squelched her way back to civilisation. Another pair of "comfortable shoes" might very well have been lost as well.

She sighed; at least the good news was that this might very well necessitate a session of retail therapy at the weekend.

Finally reaching JAG HQ, she had called in Ensign "Bud" Roberts to assist her and had then learned much more about her alter-ego, the later Diane Schonke. Bud had summarised the difference in voices and attitudes – reinforcing Harm's earlier comment about "night and day."

For the second time that night, she heard the expression "You only look like Diane/Lt Schonke".

"Bud, I don't have time for this. Commander Rabb is on his way to meet someone whom he suspects of killing Lt Schonke. Who did they suspect?"

Bud had filled her in – with his clumsy, inappropriate comparisons – but she had been glad to be able to strip off in the locker room, then take a satisfying shower to warm up and then re-dress herself in Harriet's spare uniform. Ten minutes with a hair-dryer saw a reasonable facsimile of Sarah (or Diane) standing in front of the mirror.

The only underwear she had found in her locker (she knew that most parts of Harriet's underwear collection would *definitely* not fit her, so she hadn't bothered) was a sports bra. She had meant to re-stock the pantyhose and stocking collection in her locker after the previous weekend. No choice now, she would have to go "commando"!

At least the sports bra smoothed her profile beneath the blouse of Harriet's spare Summer Whites. The temperature was not brilliant outside, but at least she was covered and modestly attired - and dry. Thank God she and Harriet shared the same shoe size – although the heel height was not ideal if she was going to have to run around after Harm later tonight. But beggars cannot be choosers and she suspected that Harriet had obviously stashed the neatly-wrapped white heels to impress Bud some time later!

She walked out of JAG HQ as a passable impersonation of a USN Ensign. Bud had looked up at her from his keyboard and nodded approvingly as he shut down the PC and grabbed car keys and an umbrella.

Three hat-pins were needed to anchor her USN cover. Walking out to the car, with the evidence files held against her chest whilst Bud held an umbrella over her, she realised that the absence of stockings and pantyhose – and panties – was subjecting her to a distracting draught where she would normally have a layer of insulation!

She realised just how short the USN Summer Whites skirt was actually styled when, settled into the passenger seat, the heater failed to produce more than a hint of warmth all the way through the night to Norfolk. Whilst she was proud of her thighs (and every part of her body, including her nose), Sarah Mackenzie was beginning to understand the expression "frozen assets"!

end of Flashback

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Eventually, they signed into the naval base and found their way to the dockside where the USS "Sheppard" was docked. Asking Bud to wait, Mac edged forward carefully.

She arrived just in time, as Harm's confrontation with Holbarth reached its climax. Silhouetted against the dockyard lighting, she could see Harm holding Holbarth at gunpoint.

She acted instinctively, walking forward from the dark and calling out to her partner.

"Harm – DON'T!"

Her intervention had two effects – one desired, the other completely unpredicted!

Harm froze, while Holbarth looked at her, gasped "Oh my God – Schonke!" and stepped back, trying to distance himself from the apparition standing there in her pristine summer whites.

"No, I didn't mean to… I'm sorry!"

Holbarth repeated his apologies, stepping back from her once again – and then he was gone.

Harm and Mac moved to the edge of the dock, where Bud joined them shortly after. The sounds of Holbarth being crushed to death between the hull of the ship and the "camel" floated up very clearly to all three sets of ears. It was a sound which would stay with all of them for quite some time.

Bud scampered off, up the gangplank, to summon help – although Mac realised instantly that the operation would likely be one of recovery rather than rescue.

"How'd you know I was here?" Harm was still, evidently, coming to terms with the USN Summer Whites vision at his side.

Mac explained her logical reasoning, eliminating Turque ("he wasn't the agent afloat on the Seahawk") and the final choice between Sarah Williams and Holbarth. "His ship docked today."

"He thought you were Diane's ghost."

"I didn't think about it. When I got back, I was soaked and Bud gave me one of Harriet's uniforms."

She paused, then asked the obvious question that had flashed through her mind as she had arrived on scene.

"Would you have killed him?"

She looked deep into his eyes – and was not entirely reassured or comforted by what she saw there.

Then his expression changed.

"I guess we'll never know". He moved closer, filling her field of vision. Maintaining eye contact with Harm, she tilted her head upwards, to give him clear space beneath the visor of her cover. Closer, closer...

The kiss lasted over ten seconds; their lips touched, moulded, squelched and stretched before parting - *very* reluctantly. She was glad for the sports bra under her uniform blouse – she was stiffening rapidly. Another part of her body was moistening swiftly under the stimulation of what was happening to her upper lips. As their bodies moved ever closer, she found herself hoping to God that what she felt between them was his weapon, stuffed down the front of his pants...

Both of them clearly wanted more at that moment, but then Sarah looked into Harm's eyes – and as she looked at the deep longing on display, she knew the truth. She smiled, gently acknowledging the reality of the moment.

"I know: you were kissing her".

Once more, Harm's actions and conversations in the White House Rose Garden dropped into place.

Sarah now understood what would - probably forever - hold Harm back. And yet, she realised from her stance - feet apart, flexing on Harriet's heels - that her body had adjusted itself to move beyond "just a kiss".

"Dammit Diane, why did you have to share my face?"

Any further conversation between them was interrupted by the arrival of ship staff to deal with Holbarth's body.

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"Home Port" Diner, Norfolk Naval Yard: alongside berth of USS Sheppard.

Date: Tuesday 31st March 1998

Time: just after dawn

They had given their statements to NCIS, then all three had adjourned to the dockside diner where Harm treated everyone to breakfast.

He remembered an aggressive Alison Krennick sitting at the same table back in '96, lighting a cigarette and telling the waitress to "stuff it" when the "no-smoking" rule was pointed out to her – and then he remembered his punch-up with the late and deeply-unlamented Lt Lamm.

He reached a decision and squared his shoulders. It was time to leave the ghosts behind. His eyes fell once more on the face of his partner. God, she had tasted so good in that brief dockside kiss - but she was off-limits. Kate Pike had been an enjoyable one-weekend mistake, but if he ever fell for Sarah Mackenzie he would be forever lost in the deep brown expressive pools of her eyes. He had seen the warmth buried deep behind the Marine programming. Even so, he felt his body responding once more to the thought.

"Here's a little ditty, about Mac and Diane:" unbidden, a line of the song floated into his mind.

Mac caught his body language at the table and, citing the lack of heating in Bud's car, opted to hitch a ride back with Harm. "Please crank up the heater, flyboy – that dockside chill is deep in my bones" she requested as she reclined the seat in Harm's Corvette as far as possible and positioned herself for sleep.

"Yes ma'am". His long fingers reached out for the dial. Instinctively her body adjusted to the flow of warmth as the cabin heated up. As she drifted off into a pleasant sleep, she found herself thinking "I *really* need a longer skirt". Then she was reassured: she was being driven by an officer and a gentleman.

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After a couple of hours on the road, she had awoken somewhat refreshed after having slept fitfully. Harm was pulling off the highway, having recognised that he needed to take a break - and maybe to swap drivers. They telephoned the Admiral back in Falls Church and explained the situation; he agreed to them both taking the day off (his yeoman would relay the same message to Bud).

With the Admiral briefed (and because they were parked up in a Walmart car park) Mac went into the store to buy a couple of pairs of panties - one pair of which she used immediately to restore her modesty before she took over the driving. Stepping across to the shoe section, she treated herself to a pair of flat loafers. These would help with the drive (she wouldn't want to ruin the backs of Harriet's white stilettoes by driving) as well as replacing her rain-soaked pair from last evening, when Harm had "ditched" her.

Ducking into the powder room with her purchases, Mac was surprised by how moist she still was. Had that been a vivid dream in the warmth of his car, or could she still imagine the feel of Harmon Rabb on her lips? How could this lovely, damaged, grieving man trigger such a powerful reaction in her body?

She had not realised just how her body had responded – seemingly automatically – to that dockside kiss. But the evidence was clearly there. Boy, that flyboy sure could kiss!

Now that she had first-hand experience of the physical effect which his kisses had triggered in her body, she'd need to be careful around him. This posed an interesting conundrum. With Holbarth now asleep in The Deep, would Harm be more open to talking about his feelings and seeking out female company?

Somehow, Sarah Mackenzie suspected that the dockside kiss in the foggy pre-dawn light was destined to be her one and only truly passionate kiss with Harmon Rabb jr.

But it had been worth it! She kicked off Harriet's heels and slid on the new loafers ready for the drive. She settled into the cockpit of Harm's Corvette, sliding the seat forward to place her feet on the pedals, preparatory to to driving the next part of their journey home.

Despite the lack of sleep, the long drive and the chill in her bones, Sarah Mackenzie was grateful for the experiences and knowledge which she had gained since leaving JAG HQ the previous afternoon.

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Up above, the spirit of Diane Schonke smiled to herself: "mission accomplished"!

Now, to start directing some female company into Harm's love life. She knew that he now had a chaste Marine to support him. Diane chuckled once more – Sarah Mackenzie and chaste? Well then, a chaste working relationship between them – there was abundant evidence that Sarah Mackenzie and chastity were two mutually incompatible concepts.

Although Diane and Harm had never reached the "completely committed and exclusive" phase of their relationship, who knows what might have happened on that week in Maine, had she not died at Holbarth's hand?

"I guess we'll never know."

But, Diane mused, Harm now knew with certainty that he had had a rock-solid friend and colleague in his partner Sarah Mackenzie – the Death Watch had delivered a successful outcome.

Diane sighed. Her spirit could now lie at peace. She would drop by occasionally to check in on Harm and Mac.

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FIN: "I know: you were kissing *her*".

Mike: England, 06-02-2021