A/N: For the record, I hated the entire storyline with Sadik, and his character was creepy. (What didn't I hate about Season nine?) But for the sake of this story, he'll make a brief appearance. The part about Sadik is a little meh, but it is what it is. Jackie and Darcey – as promised, I finished the chapter today!

Knockin' On Heaven's Door

JAG Headquarters
December 29, 2003
0800 Local

Mac walked into JAG Headquarters with a lighter heart than she'd had for seven months. Change that. In more than a year. The last time she'd been this happy was Christmas a year earlier.

Okay, she'd been a little—a lot—anxious when Harm was late to arrive at the Roberts's house. Especially since she knew he was flying a Tomcat in. But she'd relaxed after he arrived. Later, after dinner, they bantered cheerfully.

And just when she thought their relationship was going somewhere, came the fiasco with Lauren Singer. Things only went downhill from there.

As she got on the elevator, Mac looked at the ring on her right hand. It was simple but brought her much more joy than the large diamond Mic had forced on her. Thinking back, wearing it felt like a noose. Wearing Harm's ring made her feel loved. And he'd readily agreed to wear an identical one.

They had spent last night at her apartment since she had to get up early for work. They planned to stay at his place tonight. "We still need to christen my bed," Harm said as he kissed her goodbye. The mere thought caused a familiar tingling. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on her current caseload.

When Mac walked into the bullpen, Harriet was already at her desk. "Good morning, ma'am. I trust you had a wonderful Christmas."

"I did, Harriet. And how about you?"

"It was wonderful. Little A.J. was so excited over all his gifts. He's at that age when everything is a wonder. "So, uh… Did you do anything special?"

Mac smiled inwardly. She should be upfront with Harriet. The junior officer had been a good friend over the years. "I went out of town. Spent the last few days in a private cabin in Virginia."

"Sounds wonderful. I'm assuming you weren't alone."

Mac shook her head.

"Okay, so who is the new man in your life?"

"Let's go into my office." Even though Harm was okay with her telling others about their relationship, she was reluctant to talk in the middle of the bullpen. Especially if Admiral Chegwidden walked in. Yes, he'd offered Harm his old job back, but Mac sensed there was still some animosity between the two men.

Harriet followed, then closed the door. Her eyes grew wide with excitement when Mac held out her right hand. It reminded Mac of another time, years earlier.

Anyway, it's just a friendship ring. Mic's in Australia, and I'm here.

Well, when Bud and I first met, I was on the Seahawk, and he was here, and we managed to get together. But I knew from the start he was the one for me. It helps if you're sure.

She should have listened to her friend's advice. If she had… Don't go there. You're with Harm now. That's all that matters.

"Sort of déjà vu, huh?"

"I didn't know you were seeing anyone. That is, I thought you went out with Mr. Webb a few times, but you said a few days ago it wasn't him."

"Definitely not Clayton Webb."

"So, is it someone you met recently? Anyone I know?"

"No, it's someone I've known for a while, and yes, you know him."

"The Commander?" Harriet shrieked.

Mac smiled. "Yeah, we finally worked things out."

Ignoring protocol, Harriet hugged Mac. "I'm so happy for you."

"I'm happy too."

"So, tell me about the ring. It's an interesting design."

"It's Greek. Harm picked it." Mac explained the symbolism of the Meander pattern.

"That's perfect for the two of you. I suppose you gave one to Harm as well?"

Mac nodded.

"I have to ask. Why the right hand?"

"As a promise of things to come. Look, Harriet, don't spread this around. I'm okay with Bud knowing, and Harm keeps in touch with Sturgis, but—"

"You're not sure about the admiral."

"Harm hasn't said anything, but I believe he still has some animosity toward our CO."

"Is Harm still with the CIA?

Mac lowered her voice. "Yea. That's the only problem. He can't talk too much about his work but, I worry about him getting called away on some dangerous mission. We've waited so long to get together. I worry something could happen."

"Don't go there. Just focus on the good things and enjoy the times you are together."

Right. Easier said than done.

North of Union Station
January 8, 2004
2130 Local

Mac lay on her side, snuggled against Harm, idly drawing circles on his chest. He had one arm wrapped around her, and their breathing had returned to normal. Their lovemaking had been intense. Not that it wasn't always that way, but Mac sensed something different in Harm. Almost a desperation.

Maybe it was because they'd been apart for a week. Harm had to leave on New Year's Day. Although he'd called a couple of times, his messages had been brief. But when he called this morning, she'd been elated to know he was back in town and at his apartment. He seemed tired, but upbeat. But after she arrived at his place, he'd acted differently—quiet, reflective. Much like the way he acted on their drive back from their long weekend at the cabin.

"You okay?"

"Never better."

They lay in silence for a few minutes – Mac knew it was precisely three minutes and thirty-two seconds before Harm spoke. "Hey, Mac. Did you bring a uniform for tomorrow? You are going to stay tonight, aren't you?'

"Of course, I'm staying. Remember, you told me to hang the uniform in your closet when I got here."

"Oh yeah. That's right."

"Something is bothering you. Talk to me, Harm."

He pulled away, then the side of the bed, his back toward her. "I got a call just before you got here. I have to leave again tomorrow."

"But Harm, you just got home. Can't you have a day or two to rest? Never mind. I guess the CIA is like the military in that aspect. When duty calls."

Harm stood up, pulled on his boxers, then padded to the kitchen.

Mac grabbed a robe, wrapped it around herself, and followed Harm. He pulled a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, opened it, then took a drink. Although they hadn't discussed it, he'd refrained from drinking around Mac, so she was a bit surprised.

"I don't know how long I'll be gone, or even if I'll get a chance to call you."

"Harm, you weren't able to call that much on your last mission. I understand."

"No, Mac. This is. It's different. I…" He sighed, then poured the remainder of his beer into the sink. "This mission is… well, let's say we're close to something and I… You know I can't talk about it."

"I know. Such is life with the CIA. All classified."

"I'll be damned if I use that term, especially around you. Reminds me too much of…" His voice trailed away.

"Webb. I don't like the word either, but I really do understand."

"I don't want any secrets between the two of us, Mac, but you know I can't talk about it." He slammed his fists on the counter. "Damn it, sometimes I hate this job."

Mac put her arms around Harm's waist and laid her head on his chest. "It's going to be okay, Harm."

He kissed the top of her head. "I hope so, babe. I hope so."

Undisclosed Warehouse, Washington, DC
January 11, 2004
2200 Local

Harm waited quietly in the dark warehouse. He wished he had Mac's sense of timing. It felt like he'd been here for hours, but he dared not illuminate his watch. His partner, Brandon Vance was a few feet away.

With every minute that passed, Harm's heart rate seemed to increase. This was it. He felt it somehow. The moment was near when they would bring Sadiq Fahd to justice. Now that Webb was off the case, Kershaw was confident their source of information was reliable.

The plan was for a man who went by the name Juan Garcia to meet with a contact about the purchase of missiles. The plan had been carefully executed. Now it a matter of waiting. And Harm was growing more impatient by the minute.

A quarter-hour later, a door opened. Harm listened as the footsteps drew closer, and the man finally came into view. He stepped from behind a row of crates. There was no doubt this was the chameleon.

"Garcia. I'd almost given up on you coming."

Sadik shrugged. "I was unavoidably detained. So, where's the merchandise?"

"You'll see them as soon as you fork over the payment. First, the diamonds."

"You don't trust me?"

"In my line of work, I've learned to trust no one. Now, where are they?"

"Impatient, aren't you?"

"Look, Garcia. You aren't the only one who wants the missiles. You either want them, or you don't. Makes no difference to me who I sell them to. Make up your mind."

"Okay, okay." Fahd reached into his pocket and pulled out a large pouch. "I think you'll agree these are the finest quality.

Harm approached him, gun in hand.

"Hold it right there, Fahd."

Harm turned at the sound of a familiar voice. One that wasn't supposed to be here. The next few seconds were a blur. '

The sound of gunfire.

The rush of pain to his chest.

The clang as his weapon hit the warehouse floor a second before he fell.

More gunshots, then Brandon's voice saying, "Harm, are you okay?"

Unable to respond.

"Call an ambulance. He's been hit in the chest. Damn it, Webb. Do it now! Hold on, buddy, we're going to get you help."

The voice grew fainter as he floated into darkness.

A/N: Knockin' on Heaven's Door by Bob Dylan