A/N: Hey all, I just wanted to let you know that I'm going away on Friday. No worries, that will not stop the chapter flow, but it might be a longer space between them. Instead of two days, maybe three. But again, they won't totally stop. However, ATJP (my other story) might only be updated every four days. It all depends on how busy I'll be.

Note: This chapter starts off in Mac's Diary.

Impersonality Disorder

July 15, 2005 –

I hadn't expected it. I couldn't have NOT expected it. It doesn't matter where it is, or when it is – I couldn't avoid it forever. I couldn't avoid him forever. Yes, Diary, you know who I mean. You don't need me to spell it out for you – quite literally.

Ha ha, I'm not funny. No, I'm just reeking of this damn depressing kind of hilarity I can't seem to shake. I was a grand wreck after that video conference ended. I'm glad it finished as soon as it did. Honestly, I am. I was a whole jumble of nerves afterwards. Tiner can attest to that fact, I'm sure. I mean, Tiner's too polite to SAY anything – that's just the way he is. But I could see it in his eyes when he steered the TV out of the room. He was looking at me kind of funny. I gave him a small lopsided sort of smile, one that should have said that I was alright and not to worry about me but one that clearly ended up having the opposite effect.

I spent all day in my office, mindlessly slapping the keyboard. I would see him again. I mean, it was bound to happen SOME time. Right at the beginning I hadn't fooled myself into thinking he would just fade away. But the fact was that my body couldn't stop tingling. It started right down from the tips of my toes right to the very top of my forehead. I know, it sounds girly, teenager-ish, but I honestly could not help it. In fact, once or twice, I may have even let out a giddy laugh.

That's not to say I'm not nervous as hell. I think I may just suffer an emotional break down. But it's the prospect of seeing him. I can't help NOT think about it. I can imagine his smile, the way his eyes flash, the way he runs his hands through his hair when he's thinking. God, he proposed to me and I turned him down! Am I an idiot or what?

But it was for the best. Honestly, it was, Diary. You might not think so – seeing as you have been rather exposed to the written form of my constant infatuation with him. But it wouldn't have worked out. It really wouldn't have. He's in the NAVY, Diary. The NAVY. And I'm a Marine. Now tell me, how would THAT have worked?

Yes, I know what you're thinking. I did accept the proposal from Mic. But that was different, Diary! I swear it was. First, he was from the Australian Navy. And it's really very different there. I mean . . . come on, he was foreign. There's an exception for foreigners. And second of all, if it wouldn't have worked out, it wouldn't havebeen tremendously horrible. Now, I'm not taking divorce lightly or anything. No, I'm not. I'm just saying that there wouldn't have been much harm done. He would have gone back to Australia (which he did) and I would have stayed here (which I did) and then we would have both gone on with our lives as though nothing happened (which we try our best to do). It wouldn't have been like what would happen if Harm and I were in the same position.

No, Diary, I am not a hypocrite. Whatever you are thinking, I'm not like that. Harm and Mic ARE different. They just ARE. When Mic and I broke up he went to Australia and I stayed here. We were oceans apart! With Harm it would have been . . . one office over. How would I have been able to bear that if things hadn't worked out? One of us would have had to leave JAG! And he's worked there longer . . . it would have only been fair that I should be the one to leave.

Yes, yes, I understand you, diary. It could have worked out. But what if it didn't? Seriously, just think about the horror forone minute. One of us would have had to have given up their JOB to be with the other. As in, I would either resign from the Corps or Harm would from the Navy. And if it hadn't have worked out, where would that leave us? Where?

And no, that's not all. I've loved the past nine years. I loved every minute of them. I may not have loved being in Russia with our plane being shot down or flying with Harm and being shot down by poachers, or actually being in Paraguay and getting shot down . . . you know, getting shot down in general. But I was with him, Diary. There's honestly no experience even remotely close to it.

I didn't feel safe. I honestly couldn't have. And it's not like I wasn't afraid. Hell, yes, I was. But when I was with him, all the fear that I'd had for myself just transferred to him. It was like I didn't care about what happened to me as long as he was alright. I can't even begin to tell you what it was like when he crashed in the Atlantic. I can't. You remember that night; your blank pages were the only thing that kept me going, Diary. That and . . . the hope.

The hope, the prayer, the tremendous longing for his life that filled every square inch of my body. It scared me half to death, but not more than the fact that I might never see him again. That I might lose him. Nothing had prepared me for that, Diary.

We've been in many dangers together, I know. But the whole point was that we were in them TOGETHER. When we were in Panama and we had our guns drawn in front of us, and I could see the other man, the barrel of his gun directed straight at Harm's chest – I didn't think. There was no time to. I acted. I whirled around and shot him with the deadliest aim possible. I was scared – but I had been there. I would give my life up for Harm. I know it,and the thought shakes me so badly, I'm terrified. But that night in the Atlantic he was all alone, with no one there to die for him. And I was scared numb.

So do you understand why it wouldn't have worked out, Diary? I don't want to be one of those women who lived with a man for a few years in happiness, then had a foul turn and for the rest of her life looked back upon those years with bitterness and resentment. I couldn't stand it if that happened. I love those nine years.

And now I've got two weeks to both mentally and emotionally prepare myself for the subject of my past.

Harm's Journal

July 14 –

She's coming. Oh my god, she's coming. Yes, SHE. She's coming to London. To London. To see me. Well, okay, not to see me. But she will see me. We'll see each other. I'll see her. And she'll see me. In London. Here. Can you tell my brain hasn't been functioning properly all day?

I can't tell you what it was like to hear those words coming out of the General's mouth. I would try – I really would. But I might end up verbally messing up one of the perhaps most happiest moments of my life. Mac is coming here to London. She's coming back to me.

Yes, I realize what an utterly hopeless romantic I have become. Not that Mac and I have anything . . . you know, romantic going on. We haven't spoken in months. I mean, it's not like that's MY fault or anything. It's as much mine as it is hers. I always replied to her emails . . . it's not my fault if we stopped using the phone. Besides, who uses the phone anyway? I mean, anyone other than Jean. Jean and email do not quite get along.

We just drifted. That's all we did. Drifted a little ways apart. It's only natural. I'm sure it happens all the time between friends. You know, two different countries and all. Yes, it happens all the time. I'm sure it does. I mean, just because Bud and I parted and because of the distance and everything made us make even MORE of an attempt to keep in touch doesn't mean anything.Really. Mac and I are different. I'm sure she's been busy. I mean, if her work life is ANYTHING like mine, we've got two fine excuses. And if she has someone like Jean to tie her up, well there's no telling when she'll get her next breath . . .

I mean, I HOPE she doesn't have someone like Jean. Or, I mean – don't get me wrong, I'm not jealous. I'm perfectly fine with . . . whoever Mac associates herselfwith. I just don't want her to get into anything . . . you know, deep. Because Mac doesn't really have the best track record with . . . persons of the opposite sex. Not that I really do either. But only one of my . . . okay, only two of my girlfriends have died. And with Mac, well – she shot her ex-husband. Not that I can blame her or anything. I mean, seriously – he was nuts. Well, not nuts per say . . . but you get the point. And then there was Dalton . . . I never much liked him. But hey, at least Mac didn't shoot him. Alright, so I guess we're about even on the death front. But Webb faked his death twice – doesn't that count?

Alright, I'm stretching it. I get that. But Mac went through a LOT of boyfriends. I mean, seriously – she kept them for a few months and then they dropped! Like they were flies or something. At least I kept my girlfriends up for a while. But . . . what's worse, do you think? Going through a lot of people quickly or sticking around with someone for a year or so before realizing they're the wrong one? I suppose when I word it that way you're inclined to choose the latter. Believe me, you're not the only one.

But Jean's not like that, honestly. I mean, she's nice – in a very general kind of way. I mean, she isn't like Renee (who although had her charms was known to be quite a bitch). I mean, Jean means well – and I'm sure Renee did too . . . in her own creative way. Jean's quirky, fun to be around. I can't say I've ever seen her angered or depressed. It would be like erasing a whole part of her face if I saw her without a smile. And she's interesting. I mean, she's a got a great view of life. It's sort of . . . refreshing, if you know what I mean.

But she's provisional. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. I've got a tough job that requires a lot of hours and a lot of patience and if I have that then I just can't fit in a great social life. It's just not possible. So I need someone that doesn't need a lot, that can be loved without being IN LOVE. And someone who I can just . . . have fun with. Unwind from a hard day.

Perhaps it sounds bad, you know, like I'm sabotaging my own relationship or something. But I'm not . . . I mean, Jean and I are two very different people. I honestly believe that what Jean and I have is the most that Jean is willing to commit to. Which is fine, because at the moment I don't feel like committing to anything much either. The only woman I've ever proposed to turned me down. She TURNED ME DOWN.

And you know what the sad part is? The truly depressing part? I can't wait to see her again. I've known her all these years. I've seen her smile, I've seen her cry, and I've seen her laugh. I've done all of the above things with her. And then she rejected me. It was tender, it was light, and it felt like a knife stabbing through my heart. And I still want to see her. Wait, nix that; I want to see her BADLY.

I should phone her. Just to hear her voice. But no, that's stupid. And I'm bound to say something I'll regret. And besides, no one uses the phone any more. You know, except for Jean.

Email. I'll email her. How long has it been since we've written? Forever, I guess. I'll just . . . tell her what time to come and everything for the conference. That's right. And if she alreadyknows – well, she'll be reminded. And if she doesn't . . . she should email me back thanking me, right? Right? RIGHT?

Please, God. Just send me a sign . . . should I email her or should I not?

I do believe the silence is God's way of saying it's my decision.

Thanks for all the help. Really, truly. Thanks.

To: Sarah Mackenzie (sarah(dot)mackenzie(at)theJAGoffice(dot)com)

From: Harmon Rabb (harmon(dot)rabb(at)theJAGoffice(dot)com

Subject: the conference

Hey,

I hope your email hasn't changed. It's kind of been a long time since we've spoken so I wasn't really sure. Anyways . . . how have you been? Work giving you any time to breathe?

I just wanted to let you know that the conference dates have been set to the 27th of July. And, well, depending on how much needs to be discussed it could go on for anywhere a between a week or two.

Just thought I should let you know incase you weren't informed. Oh, and the first meeting begins at two o'clock on the twenty-seventh here in London.

And the weather's nice but rainy. Just warning you.

Love,

Harm

P.S.: do you know if Harriet and the kids are coming with Bud to the conference?

A/N: Okay, survey - who's absolutely infuriated by Harm's lack of personality in the above email?