The following day at work Mac exits the bathroom stall. She finds Harriet standing at the sink washing her hands. Harriet eyes her suspiciously as Mac turns on the faucet.

"Are you okay, ma'am?"

"Fine," she insists.

"You don't sound fine. You know, if you're still sick maybe you should go home."

"I don't think that's necessary," she disagrees.

"I know that you don't like to be sick, but…"

Mac cuts her off, "I am not going home."

"Ma'am I would hate for anyone else to get sick. Whatever bug you have seems to be pretty nasty. I'm honestly surprised that it hasn't gone away by now. Usually these things don't last that long."

"I don't think that this bug is going away anytime soon, unless I make it," she comments as she dries her hands off.

Harriet furrows her brow, "Ma'am?"

Mac walks away without another word. Towards the end of the day Mac is sitting in her office reading through a case file. She hears the sound of high heels moving towards her office. By the time she looks up Harriet is closing the door. She stands in front of Mac's desk.

"Can I help you?"

"Can I help you?" Harriet responds.

"Help me with what? I am just about finished with this case file."

"That is not what I meant."

"Is there something that you want to say?"

"I was thinking about what you said to me earlier."

"And?"

"You're pregnant," she states.

Mac locks eyes with her. She doesn't say anything.

"When did you find out?" Harriet presses.

"Yesterday," she admits.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Shoot me," Mac replies.

"Other than that?"

"No, thank you though."

"What you said…"

"I don't know what I'm going to do," she reveals.

"Well, I'm here, whatever you decide."

"I appreciated that. I…"

Harriet cuts her off, "If you need to talk, let me know. Whatever you say is between us."

She nods, and Harriet leaves the room.

That night she lies in her bed wide awake. She tosses and turns from side to side. Her mind is full, and her stomach is empty. She rolls onto her right side, and flips on the lamp. She shifts into a sitting position. She leans against the headboard. The soles of her feet rest against the mattress, and her are drawn up in front of her. She glances at the bottle of vitamins sitting on her bedside table. The reality of the situation hits her for the first time. The numbness she's been clinging to disappears in a single instant.

In a split second the situation becomes all too real. She allows the thought to finally sink in. The word, pregnant, echoes in her head. She reaches over, and grabs the bottle off the table. She reads the label in silence. Her names is clearly printed on the label in black ink. She thinks about a night weeks earlier in which she found herself at a bar. She considers how differently things could have played out. That night could have led to a binge of epic proportions. She feels the guilt setting in.

She exhales, and finds tears spilling from her eyes. She is a female officer in the United States Marine Corp. She has served her country for more than fifteen years. For a brief moment she chides herself for ever agreeing to come to JAG. Every relationship that she has ever had has completely crumbled. The longest relationship that she has ever had is with the Marine Corp. She's tried to be so many things, but the only thing that she is certain she is good at is being a marine.

She considers what this development might mean for her career. She realizes that it may be career suicide. If she chooses to see this through she may have to sacrifice the one thing that she loves most. Of course, she may never have this opportunity again. She certainly can't see marriage anywhere in her near future. Truth be told there were a lot of things that she struggled to see in her near future, this being one of them.

The sound of the clock on the wall ticking reminds her of her own. Over the past couple of years the ticking certainly had begun to sound louder. The thought of being a single parent makes her cringe. She's a marine, an alcoholic, and most of all she has absolutely no idea how to be a mother. How could she, with such a poor example. The feelings of confliction, and confusion only deepen the more that she thinks about the situation at hand. She can barely wrap her mind around the idea. She tries to the constant state of nausea she feels.

She tries to lay out an objective list of pros, and cons. She opens the drawer of the bedside stand. She pulls out a yellow legal pad, and an ink pen. She draws a line down the middle. On the left hand side she writes, Pros, on the right she scrawls Cons. Even once the columns are nearly full, she feels no more certainty than she did before. She tosses the pen, and pad back into the drawer.

A couple of weeks pass, and Harm notices how cold, and distant Mac seems. She avoids him like the plague. The look in her eyes tells him there is something on her mind. He wonders how long they are going to dance around the truth. They remain civil, and professional, but little is said beyond the subject of work. He sits in his office behind his desk, distracted by the idea that she isn't here yet. He is used to her beating him to the office most days. As of late she shows up right on time, and not a minute early. He looks at his wrist, and realizes that she should be walking in any minute. He ignores the knot in his gut, deciding that today will be the day he confronts her.