FRIDAY AFTERNOON
15 JUNE 2001
HARM'S APARTMENT
NORTH OF UNION STATION

Harm sat on the couch, staring out the window as he idly scratched Jingo behind his ears. After almost two weeks at home, he was starting to go stir-crazy, and he didn't even have his family to keep him company – or to hover over him. That morning, his parents had left to drive his grandmother back to Pennsylvania, where they were planning to fly out from on Saturday to go back to their lives in La Jolla. Sergei had gone with them – at Harm's insistence – so that he could spend some time with his grandmother and get to know her better. His mother had been reluctant to leave, but after spending most of the previous day with his family, he had managed to convince her that he was well enough for them to go home.

After seeing Mac off to work and saying goodbye to his family, Harm had found himself at loose ends. Determined that he was not going to waste away any more days sleeping, he'd struggled to keep himself occupied without his family to keep him company. He'd walked Jingo to Stanton Park, the furthest away he'd been from home by himself since he'd been released from the hospital. Once at the park, his knee had been throbbing, so he had rested on a bench until he felt that he could walk around without feeling that he was being stabbed in the knee. For a while, Jingo had been content to lie quietly beside the bench, but soon was pawing at Harm, wanting to play.

After letting Jingo run loose for a while, Harm decided to return home. Jingo had promptly stretched out next to the bedroom steps and gone to sleep, having worn himself out with his exertions. Harm's knee was bothering him again and when he checked it, it was definitely swelling, so he'd propped his leg up on the coffee table with a bag of frozen vegetables on his knee.

While icing his knee, Harm drew out some ideas he had for expanding the apartment to make more room for Mac. She hadn't been able to bring over more than a few things from her apartment and what little closet space his apartment had was now overflowing, even with only part of Mac's wardrobe having been brought over.

After drawing his initial idea to block off the end of the hallway and knock out the wall behind the closet to make a larger closet, it had occurred to him that perhaps they could use a home office. His desk was fine for his own use, but Mac would probably like to have her own, especially once he was back at work and they had their own cases to work on. They could bring over the desk from her apartment, but after playing around with the layout of the furniture on paper, Harm realized that it would be a too tight a squeeze.

The next few drawings were various ideas he had for expanding the entire apartment into the space across the hall. Slightly smaller than his apartment, it was currently a sparsely filled storage room-slash-laundry room. By the time he'd finished eating the salad he'd thrown together for lunch, he had what he thought was a pretty good design that he would show to Mac when she got home from work. Space would be blocked off at each end of the hall so that he could knock down some walls into the other room. When finished, the apartment would form a square around a hallway just large enough for the door into the apartment and the elevator. They would then have room for an office, storage and even space for another room fulfilling a certain promise in three years.

If Mac agreed, he'd get started as soon as possible since he wouldn't have much time once he was cleared to return to work. It would keep him busy in the meantime and be good exercise to regain his strength. And he was sure Mac would not be averse to picking up some tools to help out. It would make the apartment even more *theirs* and would make the work go faster once they were both working and unable to devote much time to renovations.

What do you call this décor?

Priority. Finishing my apartment is low on the list.

Harm chuckled at the memory. He never would have thought on the day they'd met that someday he'd be planning how to make his apartment theirs. Hell, remembering the guarded and suspicious way she'd regarded him at the beginning, he wouldn't have imagined then that she'd soon become his best friend, let alone the woman he was now planning to spend his life with.

After he'd finished designing a new apartment, Harm had found himself at loose ends. A quick glance at the bookshelf had turned up a brand new copy of John Adams. He vaguely remembered buying the book before he had left for Norfolk and his quals, but judging from the lack of a bookmark, it didn't appear he'd had a chance to start reading it yet.

He started reading, but put the book down again after only getting through one chapter. He just couldn't make himself concentrate. At least when he was sleeping, the day seemed to go by faster, but staying up all day while struggling to find things to do only made the day drag on. Fortunately, Mac would be getting off work soon. Maybe he could convince her to go out to dinner.

With a sigh, he picked up the book again and read another chapter before giving up and setting the book aside. He was going to go crazy if this went on much longer. Staring out the window, he watched several cars go by on the street below. He would have to talk to Dr. Grayson at his next appointment about how long before he would be cleared to drive around town. At least then he would be able to get further away from the apartment during the day than he was capable of walking at present.

Harm was startled out of his musings when he felt Jingo butting his head against his hand. "Time to go out again, boy?" he asked as he gathered his drawings. Most of the day had gone by and he hadn't felt the urge to crawl back into bed once. It was a baby step, but his neurologist would tell him baby steps were important to his recovery.

Quickly, he scrawled out a note for Mac, just in case she got home before he returned from walking Jingo. He left the note in the bedroom on Mac's side of the bed, where he was sure she would see it when she changed out of her uniform. He grabbed his cell phone and keys and stuffed them in the pockets of his shorts.

"Coming, Jingo," he said as Jingo impatiently scratched at the wall where his leash hung. Harm grabbed the leash and snapped it onto Jingo's collar. He opened the door, stopping short as he nearly ran into Mic standing on the other side of the door, his hand poised to knock.