A/N: Here's Chapter 3 of my 2-chapter tale (Ha!). Excuse any errors, I'll edit later—trying to post this quick so I'm not late for work!

Lost and Found

Chapter 3: Cry

1922 Local

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown

Mac couldn't stop crying. She'd cried during the entire drive home from Harm's, cried as she ran herself a bath, cried as she sank into the near scalding hot water. The crying continued as she made her tea, and she found she was unable to drink it because she'd broken into deep sobs and didn't get control of herself until the tea was long past cool.

She wrapped herself into her warmest robe, turned on the television, and flipped channels to find some mindless comedy. That made her cry too; she'd come across the famous chocolate factory assembly line scene from I Love Lucy and instead of laughing at it as she always had before, a gut-wrenching wail escaped her which sent her into another fit of sobbing. She eventually drifted off on the couch, but when she woke up an hour and twenty-three minutes later, the tears were already leaking from her eyes.

Through it all, the engraving on Harm's ring kept running through her brain.

For Mac…my love for eternity. Eternity. Eternity. Eternity…

It echoed in her mind until she covered her ears and screamed for it to stop. She wondered if she was losing her mind.

Eventually, she made it back to her bedroom, throwing herself on the bed without even pulling back he covers. Her shoulders shook with her sobs, sobs that lasted another two hours. It was quiet in her apartment after that, save for her shuddering breaths, but even without the abject weeping, the tears still slipped from her eyes, eyes that had begun to burn. She had a pounding headache, her sinuses were stopped up, and she assumed she must be dehydrated. She'd never cried like this before, not even when her mother left on her fifteenth birthday, and she didn't see an end in sight. She had visions of trying court cases while a steady stream of moisture ran down her face, interviewing clients while sniffling into a tissue, and sobbing while she babysat her godsons.

Throughout the night she tossed and turned, going through a nearly full box of tissues before falling into a fitful sleep. When she woke up only an hour later, her pillowcase was soaked through with tears. Mac didn't know somebody could do that—continue to cry when she didn't think she'd even been dreaming. It was apparently the night for discoveries.

Mac slowly sat up in bed. She was hit with a wave of dizziness and closed her eyes against it. When the room seemed to still again, she stole a glance at the clock she didn't really need and saw that it was 0400. She usually got up around five, but she didn't think another hour was going to do her any good. The tears had stopped for the moment, but she felt even worse than she did during the worst of her hangovers.

She decided to do something she almost never did—call in sick to work. She couldn't face Harm today, couldn't face anyone, and she truly was ill after her night of tears. As she hung up the phone, they started to fall again.

It was going to be a long day.

1800 Local

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown

Mac lay on her couch, a cold wash cloth over eyes. She'd finally stopped crying, was impressed that for the last two hours she had not shed a tear and had discovered that feeling numb after such a torrent of grief wasn't just a cliché. She'd only had water and a slice of toast today; she didn't have the energy for anything more than that. She felt less dehydrated, more exhausted. She'd been able to nap a couple of times, about ninety minutes total, but it wasn't enough to replenish her reserves after such a night.

She'd just decided to get up and have another piece of toast so she could take some ibuprofen before calling it a night when a knock sounded at her door. Who the hell could that be? She debated not answering, not even getting up to see who it was, but curiosity got the better of her. Besides, it could be Clay. It would be nice to see a friend, and despite what Harm thought, that was all he was, so she heaved herself off the couch, ran her fingers through her hair, and pulled open the door.

It wasn't Clay.

"Jesus, Mac, you look terrible!"

Well, hello to you too, Harm. "Thanks, Harm. If it helps, I'm sure I feel even worse than I look." She actually hadn't looked at herself in the mirror since she'd thrown on some sweats and changed things up by crying in the living room instead of her bedroom, but since she felt pretty damn awful…

The two stood at her door, one just in, the other just out, staring at each other until Mac grew irritated. She sighed heavily. "Why are you here, Harm?"

"You left your uniform and briefcase at my place last night—I brought them into work, but since you weren't there…"

Mac noticed for the first time that Harm's hands weren't empty. He had her briefcase in one hand and a garment bag in the other. She had a brief flash of happiness that he'd taken the time to hang up her uniform and even cover it, but then realized it was probably just out of respect for the uniform rather than any respect for her. "Oh, thank you." She held out her arms for her things but then dropped them in defeat with his next words.

"Were you expecting someone else?" His tone was snide, sprinkled with a healthy dash of snark. She hated it, was just so tired of it. But then she deserved it, didn't she? No, her mind rebelled. But she just shook her head.

"No, I wasn't. Thank you for bringing me my things. You didn't have to do that. I could have have just gotten them tomorrow, but I appreciate it." She held out her arms again for her items. This time Harm handed them over, and rather than take the uniform all the way back to her bedroom, she hurriedly placed it in the coat closet. She half expected Harm to have left while her back was turned, but to her shock he had actually stepped inside. She couldn't stop her mouth from dropping open nor her eyes from widening.

"Can I come in?" He asked, despite already being quite 'in.'

"Why?" The world just slipped out of her mouth, and she felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

Something flitted across Harm's face, something like sadness, like regret, but it only lasted a millisecond and the hard mask was back in place. Mac decided she'd imagined it.

"I'm sorry, Harm. That came out wrong. Yes, of course you can come in." She stepped back and let him advance further into her apartment. "Did you want some coffee or something?" She hoped so. She needed something else to focus on; Harm's presence in her apartment after so many months was overwhelming. His big body seemed to fill every corner of the room.

"No thanks, Mac."

Dammit. "Um, anything exciting happen today?" It was so pathetic being reduced to small talk with someone in whom she used to confide everything.

Harm shrugged. "Not really."

So much for small talk.

"So, how's Clayton? I figured he'd be over here taking care of you."

Yup, so much for small talk. "He was fine the last time I spoke to him."

"Twenty minutes ago?"

Mac inwardly rolled her eyes. This back and forth with Harm about Clay had grown tiresome. "More like two weeks. Harm, was there something else you needed?" She wrapped her arms around herself. It was so terribly uncomfortable standing here, standing anywhere lately with Harm, and it would be ever more so with her discovery of the engagement ring. She wished he'd leave.

Harm seemed to study her for a minute before he shook his head. He turned away as he mumbled something that Mac didn't catch. "What was that, Harm?" It was probably some veiled or maybe not so veiled insult.

"I said, I just wanted to see if you were okay."

His apparent concern for her was not expected. "I..I'm fine, Harm. I'll be fine. Thanks for…for asking."

Harm nodded, giving her that little half smile she used to, no, still loved. She bit her lip, blinking back a few tears. She couldn't fall apart here, not in front of him. Thankfully he had turned away again, apparently preferring to focus on anything other than her.

Harm seemed to be searching for something, his eyes drifting around her apartment, though Mac had no idea what it could possibly be. Nothing really had changed in here, save for a few knick knacks and and a picture or two of her newest godson. Several awkward seconds passed.

"Are these new?" His gaze had lit upon the row of Russian matryoshka dolls now displayed on her bookshelf. There were fifteen of them in all, ranging in size from about ten inches in height to a mere half inch, and they were all intricately painted down to the smallest one. The nesting dolls were beautiful, and Mac was sure they had cost a fortune.

"Yeah, they are."

He stepped closer to the bookshelf. "Did you get them while we were in Russia?"

Since they hadn't been to Russia in three years, she figured he already knew the answer to that. She shook her head. "No, they were a gift." Please don't ask me any more about it.

"Webb?"

Of course. She wanted to deny it, but it wouldn't do any good. Harm would see right through her. "Yes," she answered, her eyes dropping to her feet.

"Well, at least the spook has good taste." He stepped up to the shelf and picked up the largest doll, studying it for several seconds before setting it back down. "Well, I suppose, Mac. I should let you rest." He abruptly turned and headed for the door. "You'll be back tomorrow?" he asked over his shoulder as he pulled it open.

"Yeah, I will…thanks again for bringing my things back." She followed him to the door.

"You're welcome. Uh, your shoes are in the bottom of the garment bag."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks for coming by." Harm nodded, stepping out into the hall. He paused, standing there with his back to her. Mac considered just closing the door and ending the awkwardness, but Harm's voice stopped her.

"You know, Mac, I always thought Russia was kind of our place…but, I guess…"

She couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her. "Harm…" Unbidden, her hand reached out to him.

His face turned toward her, enough for her to see the bleakness of his expression. "But then, what do I know?"

With that he took off down the hall, leaving Mac in stunned silence.

Silence…and tears.

End Chapter 3