A/N: Strong language in this chapter. If it offends you, please look away. Haha. Kidding.

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As it turned out, Harm was not able to catch a flight out that night. He was, however, able to catch an 8:30 am flight the next morning with just one stop in Las Vegas. He arrived at Lindbergh Field in San Diego nine hours after his departure from DC. The piece of paper that held Sarah Mackenzie's sprawling cursive was tucked away securely in the pocket of his jeans, and he took it out to direct the taxi driver as he slid into the back of the cab.

Mac's apartment was located in an area called Cardiff-by-the-Sea, a beach community just twenty miles from downtown San Diego, known for its shops and restaurants within walking distance. Harm had decided to direct the taxi to a hotel he had found nearby to freshen up and change. The hotel room, in addition to the shower it would provide, provided a back up plan of sorts. If Harm knew Mac at all, he suspected, no he was pretty damn sure, that Mac would not want him to stay with her. If she even wanted him around her at all.

He was still a bit shaky on the details. He remembered Harriet's warning. He needed to have a better game plan than the mantra in his head repeating the phrase "Don't fuck up." He wanted to hug her, he wanted to yell…God, he needed to think this through some more.

Harm grabbed his luggage, paid the cab driver and checked himself into the San Diego Hilton. He thought about what she may be doing. She was most likely out running errands on this late Sunday afternoon…or with someone. The thought struck him out of nowhere, and he was quick to push it out of his mind almost immediately. He could not and would not allow himself to worry about the 'what ifs' until he had a chance to talk to her. He needed to see her…he wanted to hear her voice again. Five months was a long time to go without her. He remembers the feel of her lips…the hint of her teeth nipping at him in both frustration and want for that brief stolen moment.

He placed the palms of his hands against the tile, his head hanging under the spray, letting the water cascade across and down the back of his head, shoulders and back. He needs to regroup. He needs to relax. He needs to know what the hell he's going to say when she is in front of him.

He towel dried his hair, his jeans hanging loose on his hips as he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He had already called a cab to be here in a half hour. His stomach was tied into knots with both anticipation and anxiety. He pulled on a black fitted sweater and put on his shoes, put a bit of gel in his hair, grabbed his leather jacket and took the elevator to meet the cab at the hotel entrance. Once again, he fingered the address tucked away in the pocket of his jeans. 'If I survive this cab ride,' he thought to himself humorously as he weaved in and out of traffic at an alarming rate. 'I swear to God she will never again doubt how much I feel for her.'

The cab pulled up in front of a simple yet elegant looking apartment building. Its location sat right on the beach and Harm couldn't help but picture Mac walking along the water, her toes squishing in the sand, hair blowing in the breeze. He could see her happy in a place like this. The thought made him smile despite himself.

'Apt 212' Harm read for about the millionth time from the scrap of paper as he shoved it back in his pocket and bounded the stairs. 'What would she say…do?' He swallowed the lump in his throat as he came to stand before the door. Her door.

He felt his hand start to curl into a fist and raise up to the door. He knocked three times, not too hard, but hard enough. He waited. He waited some more. He knocked again. He heard nothing but the faint sound of someone on the stairs. He knocked again, this time a bit more firmly. In all his wondering, he had never stopped to consider that she may not be home -or even worse, not in town.

He heard the sound just as he caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye. Her groceries hit the floor with a 'crash'. He turned towards her slowly. Her face wore a startled look and her arms hung in limbo as if they had yet to register that the bag was no longer resting within them.

Her brows furrowed in an expression that was so uniquely Mac and her mouth opened and closed a few times before she decided to give up speaking altogether.

In the truest of delayed reactions, she bent to the floor trying to gather her groceries and place them back in the bag. Harm was quick to assist her as he grabbed a few stray items and placed them in the bag carefully. Harm allowed his eyes a moment look her up and down, checking for changes. She had lost a few pounds that she didn't need to lose, and her hair had gotten longer. Mac caught him looking at her and noticeably stiffened. She placed the bag of salad in the bag before turning to him. Ok, someone had to address it.

"What…" she didn't like the way her voice shook, so she decided to start again. "What are you doing here?" Each word was punctuated with an emphasis that was not lost on Harm. Her voice was even and deceptively calm.

"I came here to see you." He responded pointedly, his eyes meeting her for a moment.

Mac grabbed the bag and stood up quickly. "Well, you've seen me." She said through a clenched jaw, and he knew her anger must be boiling just under the surface.

"Mac…" he started, pleading with her in his tone.

"Harm." She was short, and her voice rose slightly as she cut him off.

She continued quickly in a hushed voice: "Just how the hell do you want me to respond here? You show up here out of the blue after five months of silence and expect…what exactly?" Her eyebrow did the slight raise it always did that he secretly found irresistible.

Harm's look was incredulous. "You are so right. Instead of boarding a nine hour flight I could have just picked up the phone and gave you a call. " His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Oh wait, I forgot! You made sure that couldn't happen."

Mac's face revealed the sting of the remark. She didn't have the energy to do this with him. Not here. Not now. Possibly, not ever. She needed him to hold her…she needed to slap him. Hard. She didn't know yet which need trumped the other.

"Harm, I can't do this tonight. I was coming back just now to get ready to go out to a dinner for work." Mac's gaze was fixed on the floor, as she spoke plainly and detached.

"Oh." Harm ran a hand over the back of his neck, obviously a little unsure of what to do next.

Mac felt her resolve start to crumble. He looked so sad. For the first time since he arrived, she allowed herself to really look at him.

"Well, since my date cancelled on me last minute, I suppose you will suffice."

Harm felt compelled to ask her about this "date", but thought better of it and kept his mouth shut. She was asking him to accompany her and that meant she didn't completely despise him…yet. He sensed progress.

"I, uh...need to change." She said awkwardly, fumbling for her keys and not inviting him in.

He nodded, offering her a slight reassuring smile. It was okay. He understood. "I'll meet you back here?"

She nodded slightly. "You have somewhere to stay?" Her big vulnerable eyes searched his.

"The Hilton."

"Ok, well I have to go." Mac's brain was becoming quite cloudy and she sensed Harm had something to do with that.

Harm watched her unlock the door, slip inside, and close it securely behind her.

Mac's heart was hammering in her chest as she clutched her grocery bag to her chest and leaned back against the door. She was going to kill Harriet.

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