Chapter 9

He was tired.

The last four nights of sleep had been hard to come by. Harm's mind was throttling like afterburners and not even an exhausting run could afford him decent rest. They hadn't spoken much about them and his sorry attempts to guide their conversation in that direction was met with hesitation.

It made him feel like a buffoon who didn't know how to speak to women and he wondered, for the upteenth time, if he should just beg. "Yeah, right." He snorted, rolling his eyes as he reached for a third cup of coffee.

After dinner, Mac said her goodnight and retreated to her room. The following morning she was gone before he could drag himself out of bed.

She'd left him breakfast, another omelet that Harm mostly picked at while he read the morning paper. The words blurred. His brain wandered away from the news and began to fixate on their little dilemma.

Mac had dealt him a blow, albeit a soft one. The Navy had decided to proceed with his case despite some strong arguments for cause. His first court appearance was set in four weeks time and Harm would have to sit on his laurels until then.

The one positive outcome was Mac's extension as commanding officer of the legal office in London. The General had not given her a deadline which meant she'd be staying with him for far longer than anticipated.

Mac suggested the option of military housing but he quickly squashed the thought. His place was big enough, comfortable and nice while the VOQ was drab and functional. If she needed space, he would give it to her. In the end, fresh cooked meals and an expensive mattress won her over.

He was given a little more time.

If nothing came of it; if they still weren't together then maybe it would help him let her go.

On the kitchen island sat a notepad that he'd been using to write names and numbers. Mac had brought him Vukovic's file and Harm spent two days digging for numbers and addresses for various homes and posts.

Mayfield still hadn't written or called and Jess was avoiding contact from Graves. Although his hopes of turning the tables on Vic had begun to falter, Harm wouldn't give up. Concerns that the creep could one day set his sights on Mac scared him. She was strong and capable but even the strongest could be taken down.

For now, there was little he could do. It was far too early to call anyone in the States. Instead, he ripped out a blank page and scribbled the words "PRO" and "CON" at the top with a line right down the middle.

He tapped the pen against his chin and nearly abandoned his silly idea until the word "WORK" was written in blue atop the "CON" side.

Harm frowned. That was singularly the biggest challenge they faced. The military was more than a job, it was their whole career and not something either of them could part with so easily. Even if he loved her and was willing to throw away what was left of his career, Harm knew pulling that trigger wouldn't be easy.

And if the Navy let his case drop with just a slap on the wrist, their next biggest obstacle would be "DISTANCE." He wrote that on the "CON" column as well. It was likely he would remain in London for a few more years and Mac in California. Long distance relationships had never been his strong suit.

It would take effort, time - lots and lots of time to travel, meet up, likely for just a day or two before one of them had to head home. Of course, marriage could solve some of that with the military's stance on spousal cohabitation. But given that Mac barely wanted to talk about them, putting a ring on her finger seemed insurmountable.

"COMMITMENT" was the next word on the "CON" section. At times, when the loneliness ate at him, it was easy to commit. He'd never lived with a woman full time, just the casual nights a girlfriend had spent at his place. He enjoyed the bachelor life, being his own man, going where he wanted, when he wanted. As a couple that shared the same space, that would change and he'd have to live with her bad side as well as her good side.

As the cons began to outweigh anything positive, Harm quickly attempted to conjure up a pro. He was both amused and embarrassed at the word he jotted down. "SEX." He said the word out loud and wrote it out in large capital letters as if to dwarf the bad.

Damnit, did he want to have sex with Mac. For as long as he could remember, Harm would sell his soul to be inside her and see what all of their sexual tension could amount to. It would be passionate and sexy.

Hot. It would be so damned hot the polar icecaps would melt. Even a few years older, the woman had a killer body that he'd kill to map out. He'd run through endless fantasies of how Mac would taste like if he ever dipped his head between her thighs.

The word "COME" followed and for countless times he wondered what she'd look like when he drew orgasm after orgasm out of her. He imagined her laying in the center of his bed, rumbled wine colored sheets beneath her. Beads of sweat lingered across her skin and the faint scent of her perfume and sex lingered in the air.

She'd be flushed, her cheeks tainted the most adorable shade of pink and between parted lips his name was moaned over and over until Mac's body could take the pleasure no more.

Mac was right, sex between them would be amazing and she'd ruin him for any other woman who dared to come after. But, what would happen next? The word "FRIENDSHIP" was written on both columns, a testament of the duality it signified.

They'd begun a road to recover the bond that Paraguay and its aftermath had fractured. Spending time with her, having her near had already healed some of the bad. He saw it in the way they interacted and Harm mentally kicked himself for being too eager to want more.

Her friendship is what he valued more above all and knew that Mac felt the same. He missed it and the thought of losing her twice wasn't a game he wished to play.

As a sign of frustration he fisted the page, wadded it up and dumped it in the trash. That stupid list would not solve any of their issues and could complicate things further if he continued to think with his dick.

"You're not a kid anymore, Rabb."

Harm sighed heavily as he glanced out the kitchen window to London's gloomy skies. It would rain soon and while not the most ideal conditions for running, he needed the adrenaline rush to clear his thoughts for a while.

Mac sat at Harm's desk nursing a cup of tea. While she most enjoyed coffee at work, she admitted that Harm's yeoman could brew a fine cup of the lighter stuff. Earl gray seemed to be his speciality, combined with flaky sugar cookies he'd bring on a plate.

She knew he was a little smitten by her. The young man would light up when she entered the room. He was eager to keep her happy and there was always a comment about her hair, her perfume or make up. It was cute and a little endearing.

The staff treated her well, none of them held any resentment for the officer that came to replace their beloved Captain Rabb. She was sterner but fair and after a couple of days and little fine tuning, the staff was running at optimum performance.

She was curious about one thing and when most of the crew disappeared for lunch, Mac took the master key and went in search of Vukovic's office. The setup was far different from JAG's bullpen or her own command. There were several, smaller bullpens all broken up by specialty.

The main offices, except for Harm's, were down a long corridor with the law library and a small courtroom at the end. 'LtCmndr G. Vukovic' was inscribed on a nameplate stuck to the third door on the left.

Mac checked her surroundings and then slipped a key into the hole, surprised how easily it opened. She stepped inside, locked the door and took a moment to gauge her surroundings.

A large window had its blinds raised and offered enough light for Mac to look through Vukovic's drawers. She was sure there was nothing to find, bad men didn't exactly want their secrets exposed so easily. But, there were some that did. Mac recalled countless cases easily solved with just a little sleuthing.

First, she checked the hidden drives of his computer finding nothing but gambling information that, while illegal, would not be enough to clear Harm. Mac knew she needed to dive deeper and with the aid of a thumb drive she pulled from her breast pocket, put her hacking knowledge into good use.

It would take a little time to run and discover the files he'd hidden or deleted. The program on the drive even searched the files that were completely corrupted. While she waited, Mac busied herself with the desk drawers. The usual paraphernalia was at her disposal - paper, pens, staples and other office items.

Even Vic's lockable drawer was accessible without any effort and only a few of his personal effects lay inside. Like most military men, nothing was out of place. His office was neat, devoid of any pictures except for his framed diploma from The University of Kansas.

From Mac's understanding Vukovic went to that school on a baseball scholarship that was derailed. She recalled Mayfield telling her about some "legal" issue Greg was involved in which led him to the Navy and, eventually, military law.

She'd made a mental note to point Harm in that direction as his search for Vic's past transgressions kept hitting roadblocks. Mac felt there were things Harm kept from her, especially after his call with Graves and there was no way to make him break the silence. That scared her a little.

While the program broke through encryptions and searched through files, Mac stood and went through the bookshelf in the corner. Law books were displayed in two rows held by bookends designed to be two ends of a sailboat.

She took one in hand, amused by the craftsmanship and when Mac held it up to take a better look, she heard a crack from inside. The sound made her freeze thinking she'd broken the small vessel but it made the noise again when she tried to place it back on the shelf.

Intrigued, she moved the bookend again and again until it was clear that it held a secret compartment with something inside. Suddenly the top deck flipped up exposing its bowels with a thumb drive nestled within.

The finding made her hand shake and Mac practically ran back to the computer to slip the drive into a different port. She added it to the program's search profile that was nearly done with its first task and had it run a more thorough search.

At first the program found items related to the computer's first owner. Csse files upon older case files that Mac ignored as she sifted through another folder finding nothing except for documents needed for Vukovic's former caseload. His thumb drive, however, proved a little harder to crack. She'd need a better program like the one in her laptop that was back at Harm's.

She also needed time that was dwindling. Despite her best judgment, Mac palmed the tiny device and made a beeline towards the door once she started to hear the staff returning from lunch. "I'm not stealing." She told herself when she was back in the sanctity of Harm's office. "I'm borrowing."

It was early afternoon when he heard a knock on the door. Harm lay on the sofa reading a book Mac had loaned him. He was surprised how much of it interested him, a mostly true telling of an FBI agent that infiltrated a terrorist cell.

A second, more insistent knock had him cursing. "Just a sec." And when he opened, Harm was surprised to find Mac on the other side. "You're back early…What happened?"

When she walked in he took stock of her disheveled appearance. The jacket hung over one arm, her tie was missing and the first two buttons of her blouse were undone. Mac's hair hung limply and make up she carefully applied in the morning was completely gone.

"Due to unforeseen circumstances my tenure at the office has been cut short." She barely made it back to his office when the fire alarm began to scream and the sprinklers burst wide open.

Mac grabbed what she could as she stayed behind to make sure the staff made it out of the building. In the end, it was an act of faulty equipment which nearly flooded the building. "I grabbed this from your desk."

It was a framed picture of Little Harm and Harm Sr. She knew how much he treasured the photo and didn't have the heart to leave it behind. Harm wouldn't tell her it was just a copy. "Thank you… So what happens now?"

Mac shrugged, "Hollings thinks it will be at least two weeks, maybe three ro access the damage and clean the mess."

"So you get a vacation?"

"I was thinking of heading back home. I trust who I left in charge but-" She trailed off and looked around. As nice as his flat was, it wasn't her home, just a temporary stomping ground. Eventually, she would leave and they would remain on opposite sides of the World. "I'll need to check flights."

The smile he wore faded, replaced with a sad, puppy dog kinda look that tore at her heart. "That doesn't mean I won't look into your case or Vucovick's indiscretions. I'll still help-"

"Stay. Don't go." The very moment she mentioned going home, Harm's heart stopped. While there hadn't been much of a change in their relationship, just knowing she loved him was enough to make him want to keep her close. "Don't go."

"Are you giving me a reason to stay?"

"Yeah, I am." He held a finger up and raced to the kitchen baking open two different drawers until he found a tri-fold pamphlet. "You agree we need to get our friendship back if we're to get past things."

"Yeah, we do."

"What better way than a little team building with a view?"

She took the paper he handed her, on its front end was a picture of a little green boat floating across a raised viaduct with one hell of a precipice to its sides. It looked charming and quaint if not a little exhilarating. "What is this?"

"Stay and find out."

Mac glanced at the images with breathtaking pictures of the Welsh countryside along black and white photos from days of old. "This looks interesting."

"Then stay. You used to trust me. I'm asking you to trust me now. I got the ball rolling sending you that post card and, for whatever reason, the Navy sent you here. There's a reason for that."

"What reason?"

"Do you believe in fate?"

God, his voice was so strong, so sure as if he was finally ready to say everything she ever wanted to hear from him. Whatever words couldn't say, his eyes did. Mac let out a breath and her resolve to stay at arms length faltered more than ever. "Fate put us together, didn't it?"

"It did and it can help us fix this, if we want it to."

The vistas did look lovely with its lush green canopy of trees and a winding canal past stone bridges. It looked like something out of a movie but Mac didn't understand why such a picturesque "vacation" could be a team building effort.

She took a leap anyway. "When do we leave?"