MAY 3RD 2000

1945 EST

APARTMENT OF SARAH MACKENZIE

GEORGETOWN

Mac dropped to her couch with a huff, leaning down to pull off her pumps. Following lunch, she had spent the day conducting interviews an hour from headquarters. All she wanted was to change into something comfortable, eat, and take her mind off her fight with Harm. Two hours in her car had only exacerbated her frustration and she relished in the opportunity to distract herself.

On the way to her bedroom, she groaned at the realization it was almost 2000 and Mic would probably be calling. Most of the time the calls were a welcome end to her night, a little reminder before she went to bed that there was someone out there who wanted her. It was just that sometimes he was a little more graphic about wanting her than she would like. Mac wasn't against a little dirty talk, but the thought that he was doing it on his lunch hour at work, with other people around, made her uncomfortable. Especially when she got the feeling he was not being as discreet as someone in the situation should be. The last time he tried to get her hot and bothered before bed she thought she heard someone wander into his office to get something.

Sure enough, as soon as she had changed into comfortable pants and a tank top, the phone rang.

"Hey," she answered, trying to sound happy to hear him.

"Hello, Luv. How's my calendar girl?" Mic responded, loudly enough for anyone walking by his office to hear.

"I'm good, Mic. Just a little tired."

"Not too tired to tell me about all the sexy photos you're going to take, I hope," he wiggled his eyebrows as though she could see his expression.

"Actually, I'm not feeling up for it right now, can we talk about that later? I had a lot of interviews and driving today, and I haven't had a chance to eat yet," she said as she sat down on her couch.

"Of course, Sarah. How 'bout I call you before I got to bed tonight?" She could almost hear his smile widen. If he called her late at night, they could connect while she was getting ready for work and neither would have to worry about anyone overhearing anything.

"That sounds good, we'll talk in the morning. Goodnight, Mic," she smiled, although it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"G'night, Luv."

It was a relief knowing she could go to sleep without re-hashing all of the calendar details for the millionth time that day. She knew a full, graphic, description would be expected in the morning, but at least she wouldn't have to validate her decision to do the photoshoot like she would have had to with Harm. Ugh, Harm. There he was again, entering her thoughts.

Why, why is this such a big deal to him? Why is this such a big deal at all? She asked herself as she made her way to the kitchen to find something to eat.

MAY 4TH 2000

0100 EST

APARTMENT OF HARMON RABB

Harm couldn't sleep. He woke up in the middle of the night for some reason and couldn't stop from falling into the same circle of thoughts that occupied him throughout the afternoon.

Am I in love with Mac? Is that why I asked her to wait on the ferry? It was easy to admit that yes, he had wanted to take her up on her offer that night. It was less obvious to him why he hadn't. She threw him off guard, wouldn't let him change the subject and he was afraid to let his guard down.

Was Rene right? Would I have been taking advantage of Mac? We were both sober, unattached… so why wasn't I ready?

MAY 4TH 2000

0700 EST

APARTMENT OF SARAH MACKENZIE

GEORGETOWN

Mac's phone rang just as her internal alarm went off the next morning. "Hey, Mic," she said as she moved to lay against the pillows at the headboard.

"Hi Sarah," he responded, "how did you sleep last night?"

She smiled "good, I went to sleep early since I knew you were going to call."

"I'm glad you're nice and rested, luv," his voice moving to a lower tone, "so do you want to tell me about the little outfit we talked about?"

"I don't know what they're going to have me wear. Anna – she's the photographer, took my size info and said they would have a few different options for me when I get there," Mac replied, casually.

"C'mon Sarah, you've got to give me more than that," he said, trying to sound sexy but coming off whiney.

Of course, he doesn't really want to know what the photographer told me, she rolled her eyes, "Okay… I was thinking maybe a silver top that dips low between my breasts and cuts off above my belly button."

"Mmmm, you know I would love to pull that shirt up and take a look underneath," he replied, "why don't you do that? Pull your shirt up, Sarah. Are you doing it?" he barely gave her a chance to respond.

"Um, yeah," she said, starting to pull up her top, not feeling in the mood.

"Right, luv, and would you like to pull anything off of – or on me?" Mic continued, encouraging her.

Mac dropped her hand from her top, realizing it wasn't going to happen for her this particular morning. She felt obligated to continue for Mic's sake, "Are you wearing a shirt?" she asked, sounding much more interested than she felt.

The rest of the conversation was one sided. Mac had learned that it was easy to get Mic off if she let him lead and simply responded with obvious answers in a feigned sexy voice. He was always tired after, and she sighed with relief when he hung up.

Checking her inner clock, she realized it was still early. She lay in bed wondering if she should just get up and go into JAG. Then her mind wandered to Mic's earlier question – what would they have her wear for the photoshoot? The photographer had said something about a bikini, tank top, short shorts. Mac wondered what Harm would say if he knew. She thought back to the beach in Australia, when he thought she was topless; how he had so obviously searched every angle of the magazine she held in front of her chest for a peak at what lay underneath.

And then when I asked if he wanted to see my breasts, he completely deflected.

But his eyes that night on the ferry, the way he looked at her - no, looked into her. It was more than a glance or an admiring stare at her body. It was like he wanted to consume her; take in every inch of her with his eyes… If only it was his fingers, his lips…

Soon Mac's hands were travelling to her breasts, teasing her nipples before one hand slowly slid down her body… down… down… under her panty line where one finger slid between her folds. The thought of Harm's heated gaze moving over her made her wetter than any phone call with Mic. She leaned her head back and arched her body, imagining it was his hands, his fingers bringing her to an electrifying orgasm.

MAY 4TH 2000

1100 EST

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Mac couldn't help the blush that came to her face when the elevator doors opened to reveal a waiting Harmon Rabb. She looked down and silently chided herself as she moved past him. She was mad at him, dammit! It was infuriating! He hadn't even said anything to her, had barely even looked at her, so why did she feel so embarrassed?

Because you imagined him giving you an orgasm this morning.

Mac rolled her eyes at her inner monologue and plopped down at her desk. She opened a file and began to read, but after ten minutes of re-reading the same paragraph, she stopped, put her head in her hands, and groaned.

She wanted him. God, she wanted him. She wanted Harm.

If only he wanted me.

She wondered if that was why she agreed to do the calendar. Did she do it to make him mad? Jealous? He had just been so in her face about it, so, self-righteous!

If he hadn't been there, hadn't told me not to, would I be doing it? And if he doesn't want me, why does he care so much?!

That was it. Deep down Mac knew that Harm did care. He told her he couldn't let go, not that he didn't want her.

And that I should be flattered that he can't let down his guard with me. Flattered?! She scoffed, finding it hard to feel flattered when he: A.) Didn't want to see her naked. B.) Didn't want anyone else to see her naked, and C.) Didn't want to let go of the precious control that kept him speaking in riddles.

But then he had called her Sarah. The way her name had come out as almost a whisper, and the look in his eyes - that God damn smolder that led to her morning indiscretion - had it meant more than anything else he said that night?

Harm sighed as he entered the elevator. Great. She was avoiding him. His best friend wouldn't look him in the eye. He resolved to talk to her after he got out of court that afternoon.

MAY 4TH 2000

1830 EST

JAG HEADQUARTERS

FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

The Commander set his briefcase down and settled into his chair. He knew time was limited to catch Mac before she left for the day, but still had no clue what he was going to say. Should he start with a simple, "I'm sorry?"

… but he wasn't sorry, not really. Should he be? For wanting to protect her?

Protect or possess? The thought caught in his throat.

He meant it when he said he was only "that way" with Mac. He had to be. He desperately needed to be in control around her because the truth was that he wanted her all to himself and he had never felt that kind of desire before. The all-consuming hunger to be the one who claimed her, ruined her for every other man. It wasn't merely a physical hunger, either. He wanted her mind, body, and soul. And it terrified him.

That's why he said what he said on the ferry. He pushed her away because he was scared. Afraid that if he told her he wanted everything she was offering and more that he would lose control and jump into a sexual relationship before he was ready for the emotional part.

"Fuck," he whispered. Rene was right. He was in love with her.