A/N: Yes, I like to end with cliffhangers. I planned for this section as part of the last chapter, but it started getting long. Thanks to minimindbender for answering my medical questions. Hope I didn't make it unrealistic.

George Washington University Hospital
January 12, 2004
0730 Local

Clayton Webb sat in his shiny black Porsche outside the hospital. Although he didn't stick around the warehouse long enough for the ensuing commotion, his sources told him Vance had gone directly to the hospital without waiting to be debriefed.

The thought occurred that he probably should get out of town and lay low for a while, but he couldn't help himself. He had to see Sarah first. Needed to let her know he would be there for her. He wasn't sure of the severity of Harm's injury, but if he didn't pull through…

It wasn't long before he saw Vance exit the building. Clay waited until he drove away before getting out of the car. He inquired at the information desk, then made his way toward the elevator and the second floor.

Mac waited until Brandon left the hospital before phoning her CO. She'd put off calling him as long as she could, unsure of how Chegwidden would take the news about Harm. Depending on his mood, he could order her to come into the office. She'd heard him say plenty of times in the past few months, "We're short-handed around here, people."

She placed the call, asked Coates to put her through, then waited. It was one minute and thirty-nine seconds before he answered. "Chegwidden."

At least he didn't sound too gruff. Mac took a deep breath, debating on whether to tell him the entire truth. It would be easy to say she'd been at the hospital all night with a friend. But sooner or later, the admiral was bound to learn about her relationship with Harm. Might as well be now.

"Sir, I won't be in today. I have plenty of leave time on the books and I—"

"What's wrong? You don't sound sick."

"No sir, I'm not. It's a friend. I've been at the hospital with him since shortly after midnight."

"And just who would that friend be, Colonel?"

His voice was slightly raised. Maybe he wouldn't take this well after all. "It's Command— It's Harm, sir."

"Rabb? What's going on?"

"He was shot in the chest. He's in ICU at George Washington University Hospital."

"What happened?"

"He was on a mission. Webb was involved." Mac filled him in on what she knew.

"How in the hell is it that Webb's missions end up being Snafus?"

"He wasn't supposed to be there. I don't know all the details, but Harm's partner said it was Webb's fault. Once Harm's okay, I plan to find out more."

"Damn that son of a bitch. Mac, you take care of Harm. Leave the fact-finding to me. What is his condition?"

"I was able to see him for a few minutes. He's sedated, but they plan to begin weaning him off the ventilator this morning."

"That's good to know. Do you have any pressing cases?"

"Just the Merritt article thirty-two. I'm sitting second chair to Bud. He can handle it alone."

"Very well. Take whatever time you need. Have you told anyone else?"

"You're the first person I called."

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it and speak to Lt. Roberts about the case."

"Thank you, sir."

"Mac?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"I want to know what's going on. Let me know."

"I will, Admiral." Mac ended the call, then turned at the sound of someone calling her name.

"Hello, Sarah."

"What in the hell are you doing here, Webb?"

"Well, that's a nice greeting. I came here as a friend. Figured you could use one."

"Friend? You call yourself a friend? It's your fault Harm is here in the first place."

"Sarah. Why would you think that?"

"Because I know you. Not only do you have a knack of screwing things up, but you also weren't supposed to be there."

"Hold on. That mission was classified. Who gave you that information? I sure as hell know it wasn't Rabb. He wasn't in any condition to talk when they took him out on a stretcher." Clay put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm here because I thought you could use a friend in case he doesn't pull through."

In a move that would make any marine proud, Mac whirled, grabbed Clay's arm, and twisted it behind his back. "You are a cold-hearted bastard, Webb. So help me if anything does happen to Harm, I'll—"

"Code blue, room 243."

"Oh, my God. That's Harm's room." Mac rushed toward the waiting area, leaving Clayton Webb staring at her retreating form.

JAG Headquarters
January 12, 2004
0800 Local

A J Chegwidden sighed and rubbed the top of his bald head. Things had gone to hell in a handbasket the past several months. It all started with Singer's murder and Harm's subsequent arrest. Mac going on that ill-fated mission with Webb.

As her commanding officer, he should have refused to let her go. If he had, Rabb would have never resigned, he wouldn't have gone to work for the CIA, and he wouldn't have been in his current predicament. So what if the SECNAV approved of the assignment. To hell with him. If A J thought Nelson was a thorn in his flesh, then Sheffield was a railroad spike.

More and more, the prospect of retirement looked good. But for now, he had work to do. And one of the first things was to make right a wrong. He pressed the intercom button. "Coates, get Director Kershaw on the line. Don't let them give you any excuses. I need to speak to him now."

"Yes, Sir."

"Is Lt. Roberts in yet?"

"I believe he is, Sir."

"Send him to my office right away."

"Yes, Sir."

A couple of minutes later, Coates put the call from Kershaw through.

"Chegwidden."

"What can I do for you, Admiral?"

"I hear Rabb was shot last night because of Clayton Webb's interference and ineptitude. I want to know what in the hell happened and what you're going to do about it."

If Kershaw was surprised at the admiral's knowledge of the incident, he didn't indicate it. "I don't have all the details yet. Rabb's partner was at the hospital all night. I'm expecting him any minute. Rest assured, I will deal with the situation."

"See that you do. Because if I see Webb, the least I'll do is break his jaw. He's used my people enough over the years, and I'm damn tired of it."

"I understand your frustration, but remember Rabb is no longer one of yours. He belongs to us now."

Hopefully not for long.

"Keep me informed of the situation." He ended the call. He had no right to ask that of Kershaw, but right now, he didn't care. If he hadn't given in to the SECNAV's insistence that he run a tighter ship, Harm would still be at JAG, where he belonged.

George Washington University Hospital
January 12, 2004
0817 Local

Mac paced the floor of the waiting room. Twenty-two minutes and seventeen seconds had passed since the overhead announcement summoned a team to Harm's room. Twenty-two minutes and seventeen seconds since she began to pray.

Harm had to make it. They had wasted eight years of their lives and now that they were together… Fate couldn't be that cruel.

A petite blond wearing a lab coat entered the waiting area. Except for being shorter, she reminded Mac a bit of Teresa Coulter. "Ms. Mackenzie?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Marie Spitz, the intensivist caring for Mr. Rabb."

"How is he?"

"He gave us a bit of a scare, but he's going to be fine. He started to come out of sedation and began to fight the intubation tube. His heart rate accelerated, and his blood pressure spiked, but we have both under control."

"So he didn't… I heard the code announced."

The doctor shook her head. "One of the RT's pushed the button. We didn't need the full code team, but I'd rather have someone err on the side of caution."

"When can I see him?"

The doctor looked at her watch. "The next visiting hours aren't until ten, but in this case, I'll make an exception. I can tell he's very special to you. You can see him for about ten minutes."

"Thank you."

Mac followed the doctor through the double doors.

Clayton Webb listened to the conversation between Mac and the doctor from around the corner. Okay, he really didn't want Rabb dead, but as long as the man was alive, he had no chance with Mac. He should have known better than to believe Sarah would feel anything for him. She and Rabb had a connection. One that wasn't easily broken through time or distance.

It was clear he wasn't going to score any point with Mac today. Better follow his instinct and get out of town for a while. Kershaw wasn't going to be happy about what happened.

An idea formed in his head. He'd faked his death once. No reason why he couldn't do it again.

A/N: Heart of Stone by The Rolling Stones