PART 3

2230 ZULU

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Yawning, Mac headed into the kitchen and fumbled around the cabinets until she located her mug. "Thank God for coffee." She said to herself as she poured some of the lifesaving liquid.

"Got enough for two?" Turning around, she found Harm standing near the entry, seemingly just as weery as she. "You ok, Mac?"

Nodding, she located his mug and filled it up. "Fine. . . just very tired for some reason."

"Me too. . . lack of sleep. . . Things have been off since I returned." Pouring some creamer into his coffee, he leaned against the opposite counter and looked at Mac who seemed to be searching for the meaning of life in her coffee cup. "Are you alright?"

"Why do you keep asking?" It was sweet that he was concerned about her, however, his attempts were beginning to annoy her.

Shuddering at her recent cold temperament towards him, Harm defensively brought his arms across his chest, after setting his mug on the counter. "Well. . . you don't seem okay. . ." At her lack of a response, he tilted his head slightly, trying to read her eyes. "Is it because of Clay?"

Mac stifled a laugh and looked up at him. "No. . . has nothing to do with Clay. ."

"Then what?" He said, still not letting it go. Something gave him the sinking feeling that he was the reason for her mood.

Mac took a deep breath. "Let's move to my office. . ."

Nodding, he followed her and , after closing the door behind him, Harm slid into a chair. For several minutes, they sat in silence, Mac still staring into her coffee mug. "Well?" Harm said, waiting for her to snap at him.

"Did I even say 'Thank you?'" She said suddenly, catching him completely off guard.

Raising an eyebrow, Harm sat there trying to figure out what she was on about. "Umm . ."

"Paraguay, you saving me. . . did I even thank you?" Frowning, she continued looking into her mug as her fingers fumbled with the handle.

Harm took a breath and slowly shook his head. "You didn't. . . but I know you are grateful."

"It was horrible, Harm." She began, missing the hundreds of moments when they had divulged things to one another that they kept hidden from everyone else. "And I should have gotten therapy for it. . . I mean. . . Hearing Clay scream. . . seeing those two innocent people having their brains blown away by a psychotic. . .The blood on my hands. . . the people we killed." Her face had turned pale as she recounted the images that never really left her.

"Mac. . . I know it's not easy." Harm began, trying to soothe some of the pain she was still in.

"How the hell would you know?!" She snapped at him, jerking her head up to meet his gaze. "You don't know a thing about it! . . You didn't hold your partner who you knew was dying. . . you didn't smell the burning flesh. . . God I swear sometimes I can still smell it. . . Sometimes I wake up screaming because . . . you didn't get there on time." Tears began spilling though she tried to hold them back. For months she had been hiding behind the Marine façade. She was strong, brave, she'd been in war zone, killed for her country. "I am a Marine and I am supposed to get over this and just deal with things. But I can't! Knowing that you had been flying for the same clan that would have left me and Clay to die, it lintensified my nightmares." Rubbing her hands against her eyes, she tried to will the tears to stop, but they didn't. "Damn you."

Standing, Harm immediately came around and wrapped his arms around Mac, holding her tight. She resisted him at first and then just lay against him, letting him comfort her. "I can't say that I know what you went through Mac, but before we met I was once captured. . . drugged and lead to believe that the US had abandoned me because they thought I was dead." Rubbing his hand softly up and down her back, he recalled one of the worst times of his capture. "I wasn't tortured like Clay was, but by using some strange drugs, they tortured me the way that they knew would affect me the most. . . they made me believe that my father was locked up in a cell under mine."

"I'm sorry that happened to you." Mac moved away from him and looked up to meet his eyes. "The more I thought about it, the happier I was that you weren't with me down there. . . I couldn't handle seeing you the way that Clay was. . ." Wrapping her arms around him, Mac held him tight. "God, why didn't I listen to you? I shouldn't have gone."

Harm touched her face lightly, brushing off the tears. He tried his best to will his own tears from spilling. "It's getting late, how about we get out of here? Maybe to go dinner?"

Mac nodded. "I'd like that."

After grabbing their covers and belongings, the two officers made their way out of JAG ops.

For dinner they chose a quiet restaurant and the quiet dark corner that was usually reserved for lovers wanting to spend some time alone. Instead, best friends occupied the space talking about experiences during their Paraguayan adventure. They touched upon all aspects except the one dealing with their personal feelings for eachother.

"There was blood in the clasp and he just. . . well almost just shrugged it off as if it were a normal occurrence." Mac said, remembering a few of the moments with Clayton Webb.

Harm couldn't help but cringe at the thought of some of the things that Mac had gone through. "Maybe if I had gone with you?"

"I thought about that a few times. . ." She said, running her finger around the brim of her water glass. "You and I know each other well enough. We know each other's moves." Sighing she shook her head. "But no matter what things would have gone sour."

"Maybe. . . maybe not." Harm said, reaching his hand across the table and taking hers. "We're Batman and Robin."

"Butch and Sundance." She corrected, smiling at this rare tender moment. "I did miss you, you know."

"Did you?" He asked in a surprised voice. He wasn't exactly sure what happened that night, but while he was busy playing therapist with Mac, they had regained the trust and understanding that had been brutally put down by a cab stand in Paraguay.

Mac nodded shyly. "I was worried about you. . . And when I saw you land that C-130. . . I tried to but couldn't help but smirk."

Harm laughed slightly at imagining Mac trying to stop her lips from curling into that MacKenzie smirk he loved so much. Loved? Yes, loved. He loved everything about her. Sighing, he shook that thought off. First, he'd get their friendship going in the right direction, then, if there was still a shred of hope, he could try for something more. "I'm sorry I didn't return your calls, Mac. . . I was."

"Upset." Mac finished his sentence. "I was a bitch to you."

Harm shrugged. "I could have been more tactful."

"I thought you were pretty tactful when you called me beautiful back in Ciudad del Este." She said in a low voice, her gaze going between the table cloth and to his eyes.

Harm smiled. So things weren't as bad as he thought. "I meant it then."

"And now?" She decided to see just how many buttons she could push on him.

"And now. . . you're still beautiful." Slowly leaning across the small table, he was going to try and kiss Mac, but, instead he was cut off by his cell phone.

Mac shook her head and laughed. "Never the right time?"

"Rabb." Harm brought his finger up and indicated it would be just a minute. "Mattie. . . Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Mac tried not to listen to the conversation, but it was impossible to do.

"Yea, I went over the paper work. . .there are a lot of discrepancies. . . I am going to try and find sometime to go over the taxing information. . . not this weekend I am swamped. . . yes. . . okay, you go to bed and I'll see you soon. . . Night, bye." Sighing, he tucked the phone back into his breast pocket and looked up at a confused Mac.

"I uh, guess I should explain?" He said, reaching across the table to take her hand again.

Mac put her other hand over his. "Only if you want."

"I want to." Harm said and began going through the recent activities in his life regarding Mattie Grace.