A/N: Another update.

Trust

Chapter 17: Regrets

"Request for transfers denied."

Harm heard her gasp beside him, but he forced himself to keep looking ahead. He and Mac had been directed to Admiral Chegwidden's office first thing that morning, though Harm didn't know Mac had been called in as well until he saw her sitting primly in her usual chair. He'd greeted her with a nod, unsure if he should wait for the admiral in his anteroom with Coates so she wouldn't have to be alone with him, but then Admiral Chegwidden walked in and they got straight down to business.

"But sir…" Harm started, fully intending to volunteer to leave. Chegwidden, however, was not having any of it.

"Lock it up, Commander." The admiral glared at him a moment, but then he sighed. "The truth is, I can't spare either of you. I need my senior attorneys, and most importantly, I am not going to honor requests made so impulsively."

Harm glanced over at Mac. She sat staring straight ahead, but he could see a slight flush on her cheeks and hear the quickening of her breaths. She was livid, he knew, but still held on to her proper marine façade. A glance back at his CO told him the man could see behind her mask as well.

An awkward silence fell over them all until Mac spoke up. "Will that be all, sir? I'd like to return to my duties."

Admiral Chegwidden's expression was inscrutable as his eyes rested on Mac. To her credit, she stared straight back at him until the admiral finally sighed and stood up. He came around his desk and then leaned back against it, his arms crossed over his chest.

"It has not escaped my notice," he began, "that there is obviously tension between you two. I don't know what prompted it, and truthfully, I don't want to know. What I do want is for this office to continue to run smoothly. For the moment, I will do my best to keep you two separated, but should you find yourselves working together, I expect you to conduct yourselves with the professionalism you've demonstrated in the past, is that clear?"

His two subordinates nodded, each giving him a crisp "yes, sir." The admiral nodded back and then continued.

"Mac, let me just say that I know you've been through a lot in the last months. Please know my door is always open to you, and for now, if it helps to keep your caseload light, we'll do that, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, then. You're dismissed, Colonel."

Mac stood and came to attention. With a hasty "aye, sir," she left the office, but not before Harm noticed the wetness of her eyes, and his heart clenched.

The admiral then surprised him by sitting in Mac's just-vacated chair.

"What did you do, Harm?"

"I thought you didn't want to know, sir."

His CO rolled his eyes. "No, I suppose I don't, but I'd like to know if this…discomfort…between you two is going to last long."

Harm leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Truthfully, I don't know, sir. She…she's angry with me; I didn't realize how much until yesterday. I don't blame her, though."

"Oh?"

"Admiral, she's right to be angry. I've been, for lack of a better word, an asshole toward her, and we've reached the point where I don't think I'll ever be able to make it up to her."

"I see."

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Harm looked toward his CO. "And sir? It breaks my heart."

Later that evening, Harm ran until the point of exhaustion. With every step, memories of all the times he hurt Mac in recent months assaulted him. He deserved it though, so he did nothing to stop it…

"Hey, Mac."

"Oh, hey, Harm. I'll be out of your hair in just a sec—coffee's almost done."

"Mac, it's the kitchen. You don't have to "get out of my hair" here."

Mac's lips turned up on a poor imitation of a smile. "Yeah. Just the same, I gotta get back to my case and I swear this coffee is taking longer than ever."

Harm studied Mac as she waited with her eyes fixed to the coffeemaker. She was obviously nervous in his presence, and it rather pleased him.

"So…what are you doing this weekend?" he asked, more to make her more uncomfortable rather than because he was actually interested. And he most definitely wasn't…

"Um," she answered. "Cl—Webb has a thing at his mother's he asked me to, so, I guess, I mean, I really don't…"

"Well…tell him hello…we really haven't spoken since he fired me." His tone was more bitter than he'd intended.

"Oh…I suppose…I-I tried to call you after that—"

"Oh, I must have deleted that message." He smirked at her but she merely gazed back, a sad expression on her face. It grew even more uncomfortable in the small room and Harm fought the urge to squirm in her presence. He was finally saved by the little beep that signaled the coffee was finished. "Coffee's done," he said when she didn't immediately seem to notice that.

"Oh, thanks." She poured herself a cup and then headed toward the door, stopping and turning back just before she stepped over the threshold. "Welcome back, by the way. Clay said you always landed on your feet. I guess he was right." With that, she left the room, leaving him to stare after her, a smoldering fury overtaking his heart.

"Bitch," he mumbled, then filled his own cup, finding that calling her that didn't make him feel any better.

In fact, he felt much, much worse.

"Going out with Webb again tonight?" Harm asked as Mac began to gather up her things. They were in the conference room, working on a case. Mac all but glared are him, but then she grinned.

"I hope so. He's getting back tonight but not sure what time."

"I see…things going well with you two, then?"

Something flashed in Mac's eyes that concerned him, but he quashed that feeling almost immediately.

"Yes, they are. Great actually." Her smile widened, and that convinced him that what he thought he'd seen in her eyes a moment ago was just his imagination.

"Well, that's nice. You must spend every waking moment with him when he's around, right?"

Mac was obviously wary now. He could tell how her body stiffened and her smile faded, and he felt that familiar feeling of glee. He'd grown to enjoy making her uncomfortable.

"Um, we spend a lot of time together, yes."

"So…just the waking hours, then?" He heard the sneer in his voice and then saw her flinch just the tiniest bit.

"I need to go." She abruptly turned from him, but he couldn't resist calling after her.

"Have a good time tonight, Sarah." His tone left no doubt as to what kind of time he was referring to. Her steps faltered a bit, but then she walked out of the room, head held high.

There's nothing more annoying than a reformed addict.

Whoa…like you did? Twice?

Harm sat down on his couch and rubbed his hand over his face. He couldn't believe how cruel he'd been to the woman who'd once been his best friend. It sickened him that he could be so awful to someone who didn't deserve it. And she really didn't. She was allowed to be with whomever she wished, even if he found Webb to be a wretched mama's boy. She didn't deserve his jealousy, and she most certainly didn't deserve snarky comments about her past alcohol use. To make things worse, he'd made those comments in front of an entire courtroom and then in front of everyone in the bullpen.

He should call her right now and apologize…no…he should do it person. Harm stood up and grabbed his keys. He'd go over to her place right now…

No, he wouldn't…

Webb was likely there, and he was afraid the spook's presence would turn him into an asshole who doubled down on his insults. He'd have to wait until tomorrow.

She'd told him accepted his apology, but he knew she didn't really mean it. Besides, his apology was half-assed at best. Maybe he should do something else to show her he was at least sincere. But what?

Flowers? No, too intimate and superficial at the same time.

Candy? No, too stupid, but then again, she had gotten rather thin…

Dinner? He doubted she'd want to be alone with him.

Maybe it would be best if he just wrote her a letter and told her in great detail how sorry he was, how brave and strong she was, and how much he actually admired her? Yes…that was probably best…

Of course, he never actually did that, but he did try to not be such an ass. Things finally did seem to calm down for them, but he apparently couldn't let everything go…

"Mac! Hey, Mac!"

Harm ran after Mac as she left the bullpen. She looked tired and he wanted to check on her. Plus, he knew he should apologize for his phone call a few nights ago. He'd gone back into asshole mode, the idea that Webb was there with Mac making him rude and inappropriate. He'd also implied that she didn't care as much about their godson as he did, which he knew was absolutely not true. He needed to at least tell her he was sorry about that.

He caught up to her just as she neared the elevators. He grabbed her arm, surprised when she flinched and yanked it away. He murmured an apology, then prayed the elevator would take a long time to get to their floor.

"Mac…about the other night, you know, when I called…"

The elevator doors opened then and she stepped inside it. "I have to go," she said, and the doors promptly closed between them…but not before he saw a tear trickle down her cheek.

My god, he thought. What have I done?

Harm dragged himself up the stairs to his loft. He had certainly managed to exhaust himself, but he still doubted he would sleep. He was devastated by what his behavior toward Mac had wrought and he grieved the loss of her as if she had died. He hated himself more than he ever thought possible, and that wasn't likely to ever change.

Two weeks later, Harm, short on sleep, was rather surly. He hid it as well as he could at work, choosing to stay in his office as much as he was able. He knew Mac did the same; no doubt she was trying to avoid him as much as he tried to avoid her. He suspected their reasons for avoiding each other were different, however. She hated him, but he loved her. He was constantly afraid he would throw himself at her feet and cry, begging her to forgive him, and then they'd both be mortified.

Since his request for a transfer had been denied, his new habit had been to stay late, wanting to avoid as many people has possible. There were usually only one or two people left in the bullpen, and he would barely acknowledge them. Today, however, Harm didn't think he could stand another minute in his office. He knew Mac was out for an interview, so now would be the perfect time to escape. With a sigh, he shut down his computer and then gathered his things. He pulled open his office door at the same time he flipped the light off, and then headed out. He elected to take the elevator; his legs were like rubber after another punishing run the night before, and he decided he'd take it easy on himself. He pushed the call button, then waited impatiently for the car to arrive. It finally did, and ad the doors slid open, he immediately regretted not taking the stairs.

"Mac!"

"Hey, Harm. Heading out?" Mac stepped out of the elevator and Harm stepped in.

"Yeah…long day."

"Oh…I'm sorry," she answered politely, and Harm nodded back.

"Thanks. Glad you made it back. See you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah. Have a good night, Harm."

"You too." He answered. When the doors closed between them, he heard her call his name. Or at least he thought he did. By the time he made it to the ground floor, he had himself convinced it was a hallucination.

Forty-five minutes later, Harm was in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He grabbed some juice from his fridge and sat on his couch. As soon as his backside hit the cushion, a knock sounded and he raised himself up again with a curse. He stalked to his door, fully intending to tell whomever it was to go to hell, but the words caught in his throat.

"Can I come in?"

"Mac?" He was floored. He'd never expected her to come here again.

"Yeah. So, can I? I-I really need to talk to you."

Harm gaped at her for a long moment, then silently stepped aside to let her by.

End Chapter 17