She didn't question his reply any further, and he offered nothing more. Five minutes later a doctor came out into the waiting room, still in the process of removing his surgical mask. "Who is here for Mr. Chegwidden?"

Harm and Francesca both stood. To their profound relief, he didn't ask them to sit back down. "Your father?" They both nodded. "Your father has severe burns over 90 of his back. The smoke and the heat damaged his lungs, but nothing I have seen so far is irreparable. He's going to be in a lot of pain, and we'll have to do several skin grafts before his skin will be completely healed up, but I give him an 80 chance of making it through this." At their relieved smiles, he raised his hand. "That's not to say that something unforeseen may pop up, but as things stand right now, he should survive his injuries easily." Tears filled both of their eyes as they thanked the doctor. He nodded. "He will be in recovery until tomorrow morning at the least. I suggest you both go home and get some rest."

Neither of them bothered to correct him by saying home was hundreds of miles away. They just thanked him again. Gave the nurse on duty their respective phone numbers, and headed out. Francesca claimed exhaustion, while Harm went to join Mac.

Harm stepped into the deserted area of the pool, on the Naval base where they were staying. The only sound that echoed off of the cement walls was the rhythmic splash of Mac's arms as they dug into the water. He watched her for a moment, moving lithely through the glassy clear liquid. She moved with grace, at a punishing rate. Her tanned muscles were barely visible beneath the surface, as they rippled and bunched with her movements. He knew, though she had been at if for a while, she wasn't nearly finished working away her fears. He moved to the lane beside to her and waited until she came to the wall. When she turned back for another lap, he dove in, surfacing right next to her. She didn't miss a beat, or give any outward acknowledgement of his presence, but he knew she was aware that he was right there with her. In sync they stroked through the water. Side by side, they kicked their feet, shoved with their hands, faster and faster, propelling themselves forward. For more than an hour they glided as one through the water, until they finally slowed up, and stopped at the wall of the pool. Panting, they held on. They made eye contact, but no words were necessary. Harm was the first to raise up out of the pool. He sat on the side, with his feet still in the water. Mac rose up and sat next to him, laying her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her.

"Is he out of surgery?" She asked, still short of breath.

"Yes. They said he'd be in recovery until at least tomorrow morning."

"So…he's going to be okay?"

"He's going to be okay."

At that, Mac broke down and wept. Harm put his other arm around her, and rested his head against hers. Remembering a time, not so long ago when she had comforted him the same way.

Fenway Park

Harm flashed his credentials and the overweight officer allowed him to pass through the police tape and into the main part of the park. He glanced around; there were military personnel everywhere in full gear. He pitied them. Trying to stay alert in full riot gear with nothing going on was bad enough, having to do it in the sweltering heat was pure torture. He knew the reason for their presence, even though he was sure they weren't needed anymore. Such precautions were always taken when an incident of any type could be construed as a terrorist attack. Let alone an F-18 Hornet crashing into the middle of a baseball stadium. The officer was led him into the main bowl of the stadium.

"Watch your step, there are whole sections missing."

He nodded and proceeded carefully. When he walked out into the sun again, he gaped in shock. An entire lower section of the seating area was utterly destroyed. What seats were left were burnt down to their metal components. Other smaller sections were damaged and burnt by the scattered debris. The stench of charred plastic, scorched metal, and jet fuel permeated the air.

He couldn't take his eyes off the utter disaster in front of him.

"What's the casualty count?"

The officer flipped through his already well worn steno pad. "53 dead, 26 injured, 17 of those severely." He looked up and scanned the area. "It looks like it should be more but most of the people in this area…" He pointed to the section with the most damage. "…hadn't taken their seats yet."

Harm nodded grimly, and made his way down to where AJ's row used to be. The forensics teams hadn't gotten down that far yet, and bile rose up in his throat when he recognized a piece of the shirt AJ had been wearing torn and fluttering in the hot breeze. One end of it was melded into a strip of leather that was still clinging to the frame on the back of the chair. The edges were curled and black. He bent down to touch his finger to it, when he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. Without looking he reached up and covered her hand with his.

Mac bent down close to him, and swallowed hard when she realized what he was looking at. "That's not his seat," She said quietly, and reached out to wipe the soot away from the number on the top of the seat with her thumb.

"I know," He replied, then turned to look her in the eye. "He saved that little girl's life."

Mac nodded. "Yes he did."

"Did you see AJ yet?"

"No, they've still got him pretty knocked out. I imagine he'll be under sedatives for quite a while."

Harm nodded. "Good if that's what he needs."

Mac nodded toward the forensics teams. "Do we have anything yet?"

"No. I don't think we will for a few days yet."

She nodded, then looked at her watch. "I have the files on all of the officers involved in the air show, in the trunk of the car. Do you want to take a look at them before you head over to talk to their CO?"

"Yeah, I do." He looked down at her and fought the urge to take her hand. "How did your morning go?"

"I've had better."

"You?"

"I missed you," He told her in a gentle low voice.

"Sometime soon…" She let the promise hang, and then changed the subject. "I've got to head over to see Logan and then back to the hospital. I'll meet you there?"

Harm nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

They turned and surveyed the damage one more time before heading up the isle and out of the park.

TBC...