PART 6

Snow had blanketed the US's capital city, yet, through the heavy flakes anyone could see the candle burning bright at the window of the Marshall home. Every night, Jane, the only child of the family would light the candle as a vigil to her husband to be. Luke Elliot followed in his fathers footsteps and the footsteps of the Elliot men before them. It did not take the Elliot family by surprise when he had chosen to work for the government. It was Truman's promise of an elite organization called the CIA that had picked up Luke's curiosity the most. Having a stellar record, he found that the agency was interested in him as well. And, in 1947 he had become the newest member of the team.

It was at that very time that he and Jane Marshall had met. It was one of the typical balls that followed the socialite times in DC. She was the daughter of senator Julius Marshall and he, being of a very wealthy and regarded family was urged to dance with the young woman. Luke had often had his charms used as a temporary suitor for many women, but this time, it was different. He found himself falling madly in love for Jane and she for him.

A few short years later, when he was sure he could make a home for the two of them, he'd asked her to marry him. The wedding was to be set in early December 1951, but "business" carried him away from home.

"Take this." He'd told her, the night before he left. "It's a candle that I had especially made for the wedding. . . now you can use it. . .keep it lit on your window and it will be a beacon to bring me home to you." Looking into his eyes, Jane saw everything that she wanted come to life. It was difficult but, she managed to let go after they kissed goodbye. Ever since that evening, she kept the candle lit.

Then, on Christmas eve, she suddenly became very cold. She'd spent most of the day in bed, trying to shake an uneasy feeling. Later that evening, her world came to an end as news came to her that Luke had been murdered and his body was being sent home. She was crushed beyond belief. Promises of a life together were broken into pieces and she never loved again.

1300 Zulu

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown

Waking from the newest collection of oddities that she called dreams, Mac noticed something different about her sleeping arrangement. She'd become so accustomed to sleeping alone that it nearly frightened her to feel Harm's soft breathing against her skin. Opening her eyes, she met his own. Breathing a sigh of relief she saw that the events from the night before were very real. They'd finally made love and her flyboy was amazing. Her flyboy. She smiled at that idea. He'd always been her flyboy, he just didn't know it. Well, last night she had showed him.

He'd been awake for nearly an hour when Mac's eyes met his own. "Good Morning." He said with a smile, realizing that she looked even more gorgeous after a night of love making.

Stretching in his arms, she leaned her head against his chest. "Mmmm. . . Yes it is." Harm played with her hair as they lay together. Everything about them seemed right and natural. Mac was more than relived to find it not to be one of those awkward morning afters.

Yet, she wasn't looking into Harm's eyes. She didn't see the confusion there nor the pain. If everything felt so right to him, then why did he believe they had made such a big mistake?

In the minutes that they lay together, Harm closed his eyes and his mind took him back to the dreams they'd admitted to having. What if they were a warning against their demise? What if they'd already set the wheels in motion by making love? Sighing deeply, he tried to shake his mind off the subject, but something wouldn't let him. If everything felt right, why did he have the urge to break things off? Sadly, he moved out from under Mac and headed to the bathroom.

"Something wrong, Harm?" Mac said softly, bringing the sheets up to her chest as if she were covering her vulnerability.

Harm peaked out from the bathroom and smiled at her. "Nope . . . Just that you mentioned something once about men you slept with making you breakfast. . . so I am going to take you out to breakfast."

Mac grinned. "I see. . and by the way. . . I said men I spent the night with. I said nothing about sleeping with them."

Harm quickly whipped the smile off his face. "Ah. . . sorry."

"Oh, no worries. . . I'll just kick your six all over the courtroom on Monday." She said, walking into the bathroom and stepping into his shower.

Harm chuckled. "I look forward to it, Colonel."

1400 Zulu

Mac smiled at Harm as they were sitting together having breakfast. They'd been discussing their ex-es.

"Renee was too. . ." Harm began, not sure what words to use. He'd been trying to get that feeling of despair out of him. It wasn't working.

"Annoying?" Mac supplied before her brain caught up with her mouth. "Sorry."

Harm raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "Pushy. . . I mean she was talking about the future even after a couple of dates."

Nodding, she took a sip of her coffee and began to butter her toast. "A friend of mine at university had a similar problem, he ended up having to have a restraining order taken out against the woman."

"So you are saying I needed a restraining order?"

Mac shook her head, men were so stupid sometimes. "No. . . just. . never mind."

"I figure I should be more hurt that she went off with that mortician. . .It was like boom. .". Shrugging he softly clapped his hands and whistled, zipping one hand off the other like a jet. "She's married and having kids."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "Did that surprise you?"

"No, she always wanted the family life. . .but a mortician?" Harm made a face. It's not that he didn't want her to be happy, but from a mortician was just creepy.

"Awww. Come on it's an honest job." Chuckling, she reached across the table and softly slapped the top of his hand.

Harm didn't smile. He only sat there, thinking back to all of the women in his life. "Why is it that all the women in my life have some association with death?"

"And all the men I've been with are dead or wish they were." She said, wistfully, suddenly not liking the way the conversation was going.

"Yea." He'd thought about him becoming the next victim or her becoming his next victim. Either way, it wasn't pretty.

Nodding, he went through his equation again. That he could figure, in most of the dreams he had died. But, in that one dream Mac had, where they were lovers, she died. While Mac slept in his arms, his mind was running on overdrive, trying to find something that he might have missed. "Maybe that is why the dreams are happening. . . what if they are suggesting for us not to get together. . . or if it's a suggestion that we are going to end up. . .maybe as a tragedy?"

After about thirty seconds for her to process what he had just said, she looked up at him. "You don't know that." No, no, Flyboy, not now. She wanted to scream to him.

"Maybe we already set the wheels in motion by sleeping together Mac?" He said, getting money out to pay the check.

Mac frowned and looked up at him. "I wouldn't trade last night for anything in the world, even my own life."

Harm took his breath and held it a bit longer than necessary. "I wouldn't either." He said in a low tone, staring at his glass of water.

"So what are you getting at?" She was annoyed, very annoyed. What was it with him?

"I think we should take it very slow until we figure this out." His voice was low, and not very audible.

"You are making a big deal out of some stupid dreams." Yes, it had occurred to her that they were a bit more lifelike than other dreams, but it was no reason for them to break it off unless he truly didn't want to be with her.

They sat there for a few minutes, until the waitress came back with their change. When they headed outside and he opened the door for her, she just looked at him. She wanted him, now, forever. Why did he always have to push her away. For that matter, why did they have to push each other away.

"What if it isn't a nightmare Mac? What if it . . .damnit. What if something is going to happen?" He said, looking at her. When she didn't respond right away, he put the car in reverse and sped out of the parking lot.

"If you think that way, you are attracting things to happen." She pointed out, trying to find a method to stop his madness.

"But that dream you had those visions that helped you solve that case with Sturgis"

"Harm, stop making me out to be a mystic. . . I am not I can't even control it half the time" She said angrily. She never knew how or why she did what she did. But it had helped her with Harm, Chloe and even that case with Sturgis. Still, the times were few and far between.

"But we have a connection you can't deny. . . You found me in the middle of the Atlantic, and how is it that I always know where you are?"

"Not always, Commander, you didn't know whether or not I was with Clay." She said with a smirk.

Harm frowned. "Because I didn't wanna know."

Mac took a deep breath. The subtle approach with him wasn't going to work. "Harm you can't do this. . . You pushed me away for far too long to spend ONE night together and you push away again." Her words stung the both of them and so did the realization of what his intention was. "You're breaking up with me?" It came out in a choked whisper.

"I have to." He said, softly as he pulled up to her building.

"Then why sleep with me? Why pile up more into our emotional train wreck?" Getting out of the car, she made it up the stairs, tears streaming down her face. Harm ran after her, but she slammed the door before he had a chance to get another word in.

Reluctantly, after several minutes had passed, he went home.