"Hi, honey."

It was well past dark by the time Bud returned home. He had just enough energy left to drop his briefcase by the door and stumble to the couch in exhaustion. He collapsed on the cushions and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples to relieve a pounding headache.

"Hey, sweetheart," Harriet said, entering the living room and sinking down on the couch next to him. "I was getting worried."

"Sorry," Bud apologized. "We were working really late on the Hanson court-martial. The commander and the colonel just aren't agreeing on this one."

"Aren't they on the same side this time?" Harriet asked in confusion.

Bud groaned and leaned back against the couch. "You wouldn't know it."

"What's the problem?"

"Lieutenant Hanson is an aviator, so of course the commander is giving him the benefit of the doubt."

"Well, isn't Commander Rabb professional enough to stay objective?"

"Except when Colonel MacKenzie keeps contradicting every little thing he says." Bud let out a frustrated sigh. "They've really been at each other's throats lately. You know, sometimes with those two, I just want to—"

"Lock them in a room together and let them duke it out?" Harriet grinned.

Bud shook his head. "No, the last time the admiral locked Commander Rabb in a room, all it did was get him a black eye and two broken ribs." He subconsciously rubbed his jaw where it had cracked under the impact of Commander Rabb and Commander Brumby's fists. "It didn't actually solve anything, and I don't want them to hurt each other, especially right before a court-martial."

Harriet's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Not that kind of room, Bud."

"Commander Rabb? Colonel MacKenzie?"

The next evening, a young bellhop greeted the two officers politely at the front desk of the hotel. "Lieutenant Roberts mentioned that you would be coming by tonight. I would be happy to show you to the meeting room."

Harm and Mac nodded in agreement and followed the bellhop down the hall to the elevator.

"Why did Bud say we were supposed to meet this witness here?" Harm asked.

"He didn't," Mac replied. "He just said it was important to meet before the court-martial."

"Here we are, sir, ma'am." The bellhop had led them up several floors and down the hall to a quiet suite at the end. He opened the door and motioned for them to enter. "They're expecting you, so please go right in."

"Thank you," Harm said.

As he and Mac entered the room, the bellhop quickly pulled the door closed behind them, bolting it tight from the outside.

"Hey!" Mac exclaimed. She jiggled the door handle. "What's going on?"

"Mac." Harm had stepped further into the room, his eyes dawning with realization.

The lights were turned down low, and soft candlelight flickered on the walls. There was one king-sized bed in the center of the room, the lavish comforter sprinkled with red rose petals. A slow romantic ballad played on the stereo. A bottle of vintage mineral water sat on the desk, chilling on ice next to a box of chocolate covered strawberries and a typewritten note on flowery white stationery.

Dear Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie:

The doors will unlock tomorrow morning in time for you to get to court.

Don't worry that you don't have your overnight bags...tonight your clothing is optional.