A/N: Here's another Swiflet. I'm ready to go back to Heart, but I had this partly written with only a little time to write, so here we go. It's…okay.

Swiftlets

Swiftlet 6: Afterglow

Lover

Mac

It was no secret to Mac she had blown things out of proportion with Harm. She'd been angry and hurt that he hadn't told her about his investigation into Singer's pregnancy, and even if she hadn't been ordered not to, she may not have visited him in the brig where he languished for something he didn't do.

Paraguay had been her way of getting away from him, but she couldn't leave without checking on him first. He'd looked pale and tired and just a little haunted, and what did she do? She accused him of only wanting her when she had one foot out the door, but never when she might be in a position to return his feelings. She didn't let him speak, and she didn't ask him why he was so worried about her going. She'd just assumed he thought her too incompetent for such a task when that wasn't it at all. He knew she was strong and smart and could do anything she set her mind to. He also knew how Webb's missions generally went down, and she should have trusted his feeling that something would go wrong this time too. Instead, no matter how she'd tried to fight it, she'd ended up in a South American hell, needing a rescue she was convinced would never come.

She'd been a bit out of her mind when he'd found her in Paraguay and should have sincerely agreed to table their discussion. She knew deep down why he'd come for her…but then there was all that crap with Webb. He didn't believe her when she told him she didn't have a thing for Webb, and she should have done more to convince him. Yes, he had been a total jerk, but it wasn't like he hadn't had a concussion. She should have kissed him, thanked him for coming for her, told him she loved him and didn't love Clay, then tucked him into bed. They could have it out when they got back to DC.

Instead, they'd fought, she'd said 'never', and had now left seventeen messages on his machine.

He'd ignored each one.

Maybe if she wrote him a letter…

Yes, that was what she would do.

Mac sat down at her desk and put pen to paper.

My Dearest Harm,

I'm sorry. So, so sorry. I'm sorry for treating you so horribly, both before and during that hell in Paraguay. I'm sorry I didn't visit you in the brig, and I'm sorry I didn't stay and talk to you before I left with Webb. Harm, I know I would have gone regardless, but I could tell you were hurting and all I did was get angry and say things I didn't mean.

I'm sorry I ruined it for you at JAG. I'm sorry you gave so much up to save me and I never thanked you. I am more grateful than I can say to you for coming after me.

I think I know why you did it. You did it because you love me, and all I did was attack you and hurt you, and I don't know why.

I love you, Harm. I always have, and yet I'm the one who burned us down. I pushed and pushed, fought and fought, and when you fight with a true love, for that is what you are to me, you hit hard. It's like boxing with no gloves, and you leave each battle with bloodied knuckles, with just little bit more of your soul missing.

We have such chemistry, Harm, but I wasn't careful with it, and it blew up in my face.

It's all my fault that we're in this place now. I want you to know, I didn't mean any of the awful things I said to you, and most of all, I didn't mean that never.

I hope you can forgive me, Harm. I want to give us another chance, and if you want that too, meet me in the Afterglow, right in the back. Friday at 2100.

Thank you for saving me Harm. I love you and I'm sorry.

—Mac

Harm

Mac didn't know it, but Harm often drove by her building, telling himself, well, nothing, because he didn't want to acknowledge he had a morbid curiosity about her relationship with Clayton Webb. Despite having never seen any evidence that Webb was visiting Mac, he still expected to see the man coming out of her building. Harm came by at all hours, his schedule with the CIA fairly irregular, hoping he'd see her out on her balcony. He wasn't afraid she would notice him; he had traded his Lexus in for a black Lincoln.

He hated the Lincoln. He should have gone for the Escalade. Or maybe another Lexus. But still black.

He wanted whatever vehicle he drove to be a nondescript color, not something as obvious as the silver Jag Clayton Webb drove.

Even more embarrassing was the fact that sometimes he would not only drive by her building, he would park across the street, his eyes never leaving the balcony he knew was off her bedroom, hoping to see her emerge.

Thus far, he hadn't seen her in the flesh so to speak, but sometimes he did see her shadow as she moved in front of her curtained windows—and it was just her shadow. He'd never seen two silhouettes on her shades. He was beginning to think he'd misjudged everything from Paraguay and beyond.

Tonight, he was driving by her place because she'd left yet another pathetic message on his machine. He didn't like admitting it to himself, but the times he had parked his car were after she left a particularly sad message. She had been fairly relentless, calling his home phone, his cell, and as of now had left a total of sixteen messages. He could tell she'd been crying when she'd left the last one, hence his visit tonight.

He really should call her back. She didn't deserve his silence. He'd reacted poorly to seeing her so close to Webb. She should have known he'd come down there because he loved her. No, he should have told her. Some people needed the words and given how people had treated her in the past, she would have to have the verbal confirmation of his actions. He had been devastated when she'd told him never, but by the look of it, she'd been devastated too. He should have fought her on it, stopped her from walking away, but he hadn't, and now this was his life. He was utterly bereft without Mac in it.

Harm drove by her apartment twice before a parking space opened across from it. He deftly parked his Lincoln and waited. It was dark out, and he could see her shadow moving around the bedroom.

Come out, Mac. Come out.

If she did come out, he was not sure what he would do. Would he wave at her? Call her down? Or would he just drive off and be the coward he was when it came to her? His body ended up deciding for him; he needed a nap, and he needed it now. He laid the seat back a little in the Lincoln and promptly dozed off.

He must have slept for a good four hours, for when he awoke, the first light of morning had made its appearance. He shook himself to regain his bearings, looking up just in time to see Mac finally step out onto her balcony. She had her cordless phone in her hand, and he could see her dialing a number.

"Probably Webb," he muttered, but then jumped when his cell phone rang next to him.

It was her. She had been dialing him.

Answer it, you idiot!

But he couldn't. He let it go to voicemail, and then watched as the phone slipped out of her grip. It dropped to the floor of her balcony, and then she covered her face with her hands. He could see her shoulders shaking from here.

Feeling his own sting of tears, Harm waited until Mac went back into her room. He heard the chime on his phone indicating he had a message, so he picked it up. By the time he finished listening to her words, tears had slipped past his cheeks. He violently wiped them away, then opened his car door. He needed to talk to her. He needed to end the cold silence between them, the silence that was solely his fault.

He almost made it to the door of her building before he turned and ran back to his car. He couldn't do this. He couldn't face her…but maybe he could write her a letter…

Yes, he could to that.

Harm rushed home and as soon as he arrived, he sat down at his desk and put pen to paper.

My Dearest Sarah,

Don't be mad, but I saw you this morning on your balcony. You came outside, phone in hand, and then you called me, and I didn't answer.

I'm so sorry. I've always hated seeing you sad or hurting, and it was excruciating to watch you today.

I know you are now wondering why I didn't answer or come up.

The answer is, I'm a coward. I wanted to run right up to you and take you in my arms, but fear got the better of me. It got the better of me in Paraguay, and instead of just telling you the true reason I came down there, I played the angry, jealous man.

Maybe it's too late, but I'm ready to tell you why I came for you.

I love you, Mac. I love you, and I ruined everything. I saw your face as you walked away from me after saying 'never.' You ripped my heart out, but I could tell I'd ripped out your heart and stomped on it. The state of our relationship or lack thereof is on me. I'm the one who broke us, because I didn't fight for you, not when it counted.

I'm sorry I hurt you. I want another chance with you. I don't want to lose what we had. We had love, Mac. We had a beautiful friendship, and I'm asking for just one more chance. I'm asking for one more chance to tell you I love you and that you're everything to me.

I hope you can forgive me, Sarah. I have no right to ask this, but please, meet me in the Afterglow, right in the back. Friday at 2100.

I love you and I'm so sorry for everything.

—Harm

Mac folded her letter and slid it into an envelope. She carefully wrote Harm's name and address on it, sealed it, stamped it, and made it downstairs just in time for the mail carrier to take it away. Neither of them noticed the letter slip from his pack and blow away in the wind.

Harm folded his letter and slid it into an envelope. He carefully wrote Mac's name and address on it, sealed it, stamped it, and then put it in with a stack of bills he was going to mail as well. He ran down to the mailbox in front of his building, never noticing his letter fall from the pile of bills. The wind carried it away, never to be seen again.

Mac and Harm:

Two people waited in their cars outside the Afterglow lounge. They were both nervous, both worried the other wouldn't show. At 2100 on the dot, Mac slid out of her new and practical Lexus SUV, while Harm stepped out of his hated Lincoln Navigator. Mac entered the Afterglow through the side door, while Harm entered from the front.

They met in the back.

"Harm."

"Mac."

"I'm sorry," they said at the same time. They chuckled awkwardly, then fell into each other's arms, their lips coming together in a beautiful kiss. "I love you," they whispered to each other, and then they just held on.

Much, much later, as the too new lovers cuddled in their hotel room's king-sized bed, neither of them wanting to take the time to go to their respected apartments, Mac raised herself up.

"Harm—"

"Mac—"

"I'm so glad you got my letter," they both said, and then they looked at each other in confusion.

"What letter?"

End Swiftlet 6