Thank you for the reviews. I really like this story. This is supersized chappie, lots going on.

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Chapter 10

The big city became a distant memory as the silver SUV traversed from one country to another. Modern architecture and historic stone buildings gave way to some of the greenest and luscious land Mac had ever seen.

She was mildly annoyed with herself and how easy she fell for one of his impulsive plans. It didn't matter that a concept for a "team building" (or in their case, "friendship building") exercise had them driving four hours from London to Wales. Mac always had ways and would always follow him.

As Harm navigated the tiny parking lot, Mac was intrigued by the type of boats scattered across a dozen or so slips. There were a few standard outboards but the most peculiar were the colorful rows of vessels unlike anything she'd ever seen.

The colors of the boats were mostly vibrant with blues, geens, yellow and reds, each uniquely designed with trim that offset the primary color.

They were long but narrow, with several small windows that ran down their length. Some had a covered bow, others were open with seating. At the stern was the long arm of the tiller partially hidden by a railing that went around the back.

"Pretty neat, aren't they?" Harm asked as they hopped out and he reached for the two bags of luggage.

"What are they exactly?"

"Narrowboats."

"They remind me of the ones in the CO canal." Only these were far more unique, Mac noticed.

Harm walked ahead, to the small building that housed the marina office. "These are like tiny houses. They have a bathroom, bedrooms, a galley and some have a living room and fireplace." While they waited for the attendant to fetch the owner, Harm explained that the living space was confined to a six foot five inch width to accomodate travel through a canal system. Lengthwise some boats could stretch to 72 feet, any longer and they would not fit in a lock.

"Harm." His name was called by an older man with mostly gray hair wearing a red and blue plaid shirt. He was short, a little stocky and looked genuinely pleased to see him. "Pete said you'd be by today and who is this?" He set his eyes on Mac, his green eyes twinkling as he studied the pretty Marine.

"Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, Marine Corps."

"Liam." He extended his hand to Mac and shook gently. "Pete never mentioned you had a girl."

"She's a colleague and a very dear friend. We're not-"

"Who's Pete?" Mac asked. Captain Peter Mankelow was Harm's British counterpart in their legal office. The two had met almost a week after Harm had arrived when a case needed a joint effort to be resolved. The men hit it off and from time to time Pete would invite Harm to his home.

"Liam is Pete's uncle. His family owns the marina and a narrowboat rental company." Late last year Peter had taken Harm on a tour of the canal, showing him how the system worked. He left Harm alone in one of the easier canals to navigate solo where he learned to love this simple form of travel. "I wanted to take her up the canal as a sort of team building exercise."

Behind the counter was a large, wooden peg board covered in keys with a little foam floaties attached to a chain. Each float had a word scribbled across with a permanent marker that corresponded with a matching boat name.

"Pete said to give you the 'Majestic.' She's the newer one of the fleet, not too long and it handles like a dream. If you're ready, I'll get you set up."

The Majestic was a 60 foot red and green vessel with a black roof and hull. The main entrance was in the stern where two small doors and an overhead hatch unlocked to allow access to the cabin.

First was the dining area with dinette style seating to accommodate four guests. It opened up to the galley where the small space provided ample areas to cook and prepare meals. A bathroom with shower followed the kitchen after which came the bedroom that consisted of a full size bed that was placed against a wall just beneath a wide window with a curtain. Lastly, a living room with a sofa, a chair and a tiny fireplace led the way to the bow that opened to the outside.

The narrowboat had everything a person could need from dishes and utensils to linens and bath towels. A tank held fifty gallons of potable water that could be refilled with a hose at various maintenance locations set up for the boats.

"I'll get you going and explain some of the finer points." Liam used a key to start the engine which cranked to life in just two tries. He explained the various gauges and even pointed out the two long rods atop the boat that could be used to push it along if they were stuck.

On the floor was a hinged door with a small storage compartment to house mooring lines and two anchors that would secure the boat to the side of the towpath. Lastly Liam explained the basic canal right of way as he put the boat in gear and gilded it easily out of the marina.

"You never want a wake behind you." Although the boats weren't made for speed, the volume of water in the canal was limited and too much motion could cause erosion. "I know Harm can drive this thing, so it's your turn ma'am."

"You sure?"

"I am." Liam waved a hand at the tiller which Mac wearily took. "Gentle movements, just keep her straight and steady. She moves like an elegant lady."

It wasn't like driving a sports car or riding a motorcycle but it was still exhilarating to guide such a long boat through the narrow canal. Mac moved the tiller slightly, keeping the vessel true and steady as they came up on the first bridge of many in their crossing.

There was barely any space left on each side, just a few inches but she never bumped the ancient stones although Mac's hand shook slightly until they emerged on the opposite side. Another boat was waiting on the bank and its captain, a short blonde woman waved in passing.

Liam explained how the canal traffic worked on something like an honors system. Whoever arrived first to a tunnel or lock had the right to pass and all others would wait in line until it was their turn. There were designated waiting spots so that no boat could block a passage.

Blind spots were the curved sections where the channel ahead was not visible. They were alluded to by special signage with instructions on how to pass. "Some areas one of you will need to hop out and walk the towpath to check for incoming traffic."

The rules were relatively straightforward but there was one that came with a heavy fine if ignored, "Most importantly, once the sun begins to set you need to dock either at a Marina or on any side of the towpath as long as you leave space for another boat to pass. You can't travel the canal after dusk."

It was dangerous to travel the canal at night when the shallow water levels were unable to be monitored. The tunnels and locks already had inadequate lighting and the group that managed the canals tried to keep accidents to a minimum.

Harm was given a booklet that contained a map with various points of interest including historical sights and popular restaurants. Each little town had their own reason to visit and Liam was happy to point out a few before disembarking.

"Well, this is where I leave you. Enjoy your vacation." Without warning, Liam simply walked off the boat and onto the towpath, waving at Harm and Mac as the vessel gilded away without him.

"You can walk off just like that?" Mac glanced back at Liam and then quickly turned back to see another bridge looming ahead. She corrected her position when the boat lightly grazed the side of the canal. "Shit, sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for. I banged the boat around a few times on my first trip. The hull has rubber. It can take a few hits, within reason." Harm leaned against the top of the boat and looked out for oncoming traffic. There was none and they easily gilded beneath another bridge.

The towpath, he explained, was put in place when horses used to pull the narrowboats along the canals. Now it was a broad network of walking and exercise paths to connect the various little towns with the water way.

"You can hop off at any time." He made his point by taking a foot wide hop out of the vessel and onto the towpath. The boat continued on at such a slow pace that it was easy for him to walk ahead and guide Mac through another bridge that was fast approaching.

She took a deep breath, the kind that cleansed the lungs and relaxed her spirit. Wales had some of the most green and lush land she'd ever seen. The farther they ventured down the canal, the more beautiful the scenery.

A canopy of robust trees winded along with the water. The deep green leaves seemed almost artificial as the rays of the sun peaked between the foliage. There was a pasture where fat, fluffy sheeps stood eating blades of grass and another farm had horses galloping across an open field.

They passed tiny towns dotted with wood and stone buildings, its residents happily waving when they floated along. "This looks like a postcard."

"It does. I've honestly never seen land this green." Harm hopped back into the boat and stood by Mac's side. He saw that some of her apprehension vanished as she easily navigated them through a particularly narrow spot without hitting the boat.

"There's a tunnel coming up." He pointed at a large metal sign on the embankment and showed her how to ease off the throttle. "Just need to make sure no one is heading our way."

Mac slowed the boat down to a stop and waited patiently as Harm hopped onto the towpath and disappeared as it winded away from her position. "You're good to go."

The tunnel was pitch black, the only light coming from the end. She could easily reach up to touch the stone above her and was glad to reach the end where Harm waited. "That was a little scary." Mac said as she happily handed over the tiller.

"Some parts are but, it's safe, I promise. We're gonna have a great time, Mac."

She believed him.

Mac sat at the bow on one of the two built- in seats that were surprisingly comfortable. She had a Clancy novel in one hand, a cup of tea in the other and would occasionally look up to find the scenery had changed yet again.

The slow moving vessel made for a peaceful ride and she felt more relaxed than she ever had in her life. Even San Diego with its near perfect weather, the sand and the surf could not compare to the pristine greenery surrounding them.

She raised herself up a little to see over the roof of the boat so she could glance at her former partner. He had an iPod in his pocket, one earbud attached and was likely listening to some sort of Rock playlist given the way he moved.

God, he was still so adorably sexy and it made her heart ache a little. He'd shown his interest and she knew it would take one word for him to be all in. But how long would it last?

There was the distance to consider - the opposite ends of the Earth their careers had shipped them. Even if the Vukovic thing was dropped and Harm walked away unscathed, he would remain in London and she in San Diego. Nothing would change that.

"Mac?" His voice cut through her reverie and Mac found herself blushing profusely when she nearly dumped her book in the drink. "Didn't mean to startle you."

His flyboy grin was there beaming its full wattage. Harm sat at the opposite side of the bow and it was then that Mac noticed the narrowboat was stopped and moored.

A rope at the stern and another at the bow ran through heavy metal rings stretching out to the patch of grass between the canal and the towpath that Harm had hammered into the ground.

"Why are we stopped?"

"Sundown is in a couple of hours and the map says this is one of the recommended towns for food and groceries."

She checked with her mental clock, surprised that they'd been moving along for hours. Mac spent part of the trip taking pictures and the other reading her book. It seemed unfair that time passed by so quickly. "Oh. Let me use the head and I'll be right with you."

Harm was always a gentleman. Even at their worst, he opened doors, guided her ahead with a gentle touch of his hand at the small of her back. He was polite and charming and Mac absolutely hated that his overall being attracted every woman like flies to honey.

Beneath an orangey hue from the impending sunset, they shared one of the picnic tables that dotted a stone patio behind a local pub.

The establishment was at the very top of a large hill that overlooked a lovely green meadow which ended before a serene lake.

It may have been terribly romantic had the man sitting across from her not attracted the three girls two tables away. They giggled each time he looked their way and visibly swooned if Harm would smile. It was annoying and Mac refused to act like she had a claim on him.

"Beautiful isn't it?" He sipped from a bottle of beer and stole two fries off her plate, grinning when Mac gave him an exasperated look.

"Smashing. I wonder if your fan club noticed the sheeps down there."

Harm turned towards the girls and shook his head. "Gimme a break, Mac. They're probably half my age."

She squinted at him and let out the most unlady like snort. "You really can't help it can you? You're such a natural flirt that you don't even notice how girls fawn all over you."

He glanced at the giggling women once more and sighed. While it was true that flirting was easy for him, his allure never seemed to work on the one he wanted most. "Except you. You're immune."

"I'm not immune. I've just had practice ignoring it." She took a bite of her burger that nearly fell apart from all of the ketchup and mustard she squeezed into the sandwich.

"Oh really?" Harm leaned in, his flyboy grin hitting a higher wattage than usual. His knees touched hers and he was surprised when she didn't pull away. "So flirting works on you?"

"Mmm hmm." Mac swallowed and then daintily dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin. "Used to give me that warm, tingly feeling in my stomach."

"Used to?" He leaned even closer. "So, it doesn't anymore?"

"It still does." She popped a fry in her mouth and swatted his hand away when he tried to steal another. "You ordered salmon and veggies, not steak fries."

He stole one anyway when she took another bite of her burger. "You know, I'm not immune either. You have this cute little smile that makes me melt a little…and that thing you do with your eyebrow-"

Mac's eyebrow arched elegantly and it made him laugh. "What's the thing with my eyebrow?"

"You're doing it now." His grin widened a bit when she furrowed her brows. "It's cute, you know. You're cute."

He'd given her compliments before, many in fact the times she was out of uniform and wearing a dress. For some reason, his current comment made her blush so much Mac could feel her cheeks start to burn and was unable to stop it. She turned away from him staring out towards the lake but his eyes were still on her.

Harm didn't tease nor did he want to. He simply watched her, smiling when she swatted his hand again as he reached for another fry. "How about we order another basket of these? They're damned good."

"Only if we share. And I promise not to submerge them in ketchup."

"Deal."

When they returned back to the narrowboat, Harm pulled out a tiny plank that helped bridge the space between the bank and the vessel. The canal had settled somewhat and the lower level made hopping in a little more problematic. He helped Mac aboard, handed over the three bags of groceries they procured after dinner and then went to both lines to adjust the knots that kept the boat tethered.

Once satisfied, he walked onto the boat to find the groceries put away and Mac in the living area making a bed out of the sofa. "Hey, whatcha doing?"

"Making my bed." She tucked a flat sheet under the cushions then smoothed it with the sweep of her hand.

Harm leaned against one of the walls finding it odd that Mac hadn't folded out the couch. "That flips open. This boat should fit four people."

"Nope." Mac gave the sofa a tug and stepped aside while Harm tried to find a non-existent mechanism. "It's fine. I've slept in worst places. It'll be comfortable."

He took stock of the furniture around them and then walked to the bedroom. Harm hadn't considered sleeping arrangements and while the bed could fit two people, it was rather small. "I'm pretty sure I told Pete I needed a boat with two bedrooms."

"It's no big deal, I barely sleep."

Harm grabbed the pillow she slid into a case. "No Mac, take the bed, please. I'm kinda used to sleeping in tight quarters. It's not like a rack on a carrier offers much space."

"No, you take the bed." She snatched the pillow back only to have him take it away and hold it with his arm outstretched where Mac couldn't reach it. "You can act like a child sometimes."

"I know but, you're still gonna take the bed because momma raised a gentleman." An annoyed huff made him grin when he handed the pillow back and she begrudgingly trotted past him to the next room.

"Fine but, I have first dibs on the shower." Mac declared. It was her way of trying to take the upper hand and he was fine with her decision.

It was the middle of the night, 0300 to be exact when a sound from outside brought Mac out of a restful slumber. She assumed sleep would be hard to come but the gentle movement of the narrowboat relaxed Mac to a dreamless sleep.

The 'ding' of metal upon metal startled her and when she called out for Harm with no answer, Mac hopped out of bed. The sofa was empty and the flat sheet lay rumbled and messy. She turned to head to the stern when the soubd kf the hatch opening and closing made her stop. "Harm?"

There was a low curse, the rustling of nylon, like a raincoat being removed and then another hushed curse as Harm walked past her and into the bathroom. "Is everything okay?"

"It's fine. Go back to sleep."

Instead Mac flipped on a small light and waited for Harm to step out of the head. "Why do you sound upset?"

"Because I am."

"Why? What's wrong? Talk to me."

Harm stopped by the bed knowing full well she wouldn't let it go without an answer that made sense. The sigh that escaped him was a tad dramatic but then, he was embarrassed to admit their little problem. "I guess I'm a lousy sailor."

He sat on the edge of the bed and turned to face her. "My knots didn't hold."

A storm was headed in their direction and with it came strong gusts of wind that easily tugged the bow line free from its mooring. "Pulled the damned pin out too. The bow was half way into the canal." He sighed again and shook his head. "Thought I was pretty good at knots."

"You're a pilot. Pretty sure tying knots is the Boatswain's job."

"I was on the sailing team at Anapolis. You don't get on a sailboat unless you have extensive knowledge and part of that knowledge is knots." To be fair it had been years since he'd been on a sailboat and as a pilot certain knots were a little pointless.

"Was the boat damaged?"

"No."

"We're okay, right?" Given that many parts of the canal sat in less than five feet of water, sinking wasn't really a huge concern. When he nodded, Mac sat next to him and placed a hand on his knee. "Then let it go. I'm sure it will hold this time."

The warmth of her hand felt wonderful on his cold skin. Her touch sent a rush of electricity running through him and when Harm looked up, he was reminded how much he loved this woman. "I have precious cargo onboard and I don't want anything to happen to her."

Involuntarily she leaned against him, her shoulder pressing against his. "You're cold."

"Temps dropped a little." He shivered when she pulled away and moved past to crawl back into bed. Harm felt her shift to the far end, against the wall and when he looked, Mac was patting the space between them. "You sure?"

"It's not the biggest of beds but we've slept together before. What's the big deal?"

This was an invitation he wouldn't refuse. Eagerly, Harm retrieved his pillow from the next room and dropped it next to hers. "You know, I definitely missed something because I don't remember ever sleeping with you and that's the kind of thing that would have been highly rated in my mental catalog."

He grinned that special grin, the kind that made her insides turn to mush and before Mac knew it, Harm was settling in next to her. The bed was small but cozy enough for two and long enough to fit his longer frame.

She smacked his chest lightly and pulled the covers up over the two of them. "Let's see. The desert. We slept together in the desert and it was sorta nice."

"Before or after your future ex decided to pull a bombing run on our POS?"

Mac snorted and shook her head. "Wrong desert, I was thinking of Red Rock Mesa…When we first met." Less than twenty four hours had passed and she'd find herself laying in an unfamiliar man's arms. She was restless and cold, the sundress wasn't exactly the best outfit for the cool Arizona nights.

Her uncle had given them a pair of sleeping bags to settle in and once the adrenaline wore off, Mac found herself dozing off. She woke a few hours later, shivering from the cold and Harm fared the same. Wordlessly, they gravitated towards one another and she found the restlessness ceased in his arms. "I thought your uncle was gonna kill me when he woke us up in the morning and saw me draped over you."

"He almost did." She teased. "But he figured out rather quickly that you were a good guy…What about the forest?" Mac propped herself up on one elbow, grinning when he turned with a look of confusion.

"What forest?"

"Your plane, us playing hooky. The poachers."

Harm frowned. That had been one of the lowest parts of his life. His excitement to take Mac flying made him cut a few corners when he found her waiting on the tarmac and made a show out of all his aeronautic insight. Had he not tried to impress a girl, he would have seen the split fuel line and avoided their harrowing experience.

"You scared me." He admitted. "You were pale, your skin was cold and clammy. That night in the cave, I was trying to keep you warm…I didn't sleep. Kept thinking you'd…Damn Mac, you lost so much blood. Did I ever apologize?"

"You did. At the hospital when you brought me flowers and coffee and snacks they said I shouldn't have." He also remained by her side until Mac was discharged. There were times she'd catch him looking and for a brief moment, Mac wondered if their experience had brought out his feelings for her. She'd already fallen for him like a stone. "I thought you would kiss me then. There were a few times you looked at me a certain way."

"I wanted to but-"

"Yeah there's always a 'but' between us."

Harm turned to his side and propped himself up on one elbow. "Maybe I should have kissed you in Russia. We slept together that night too...by the fire."

"Rusza asked how long we were together. I told her we weren't."

"Vasya assumed the same. I think he had the hots for you." And Harm couldn't blame the man. After an hour in the back of the wagon, the Marine emerged as a gypsy tempress and neither man was immune to her charm. "You looked gorgeous did I ever tell you?"

"No." He didn't have to, the look of surprise and the casual glances were enough to denote his interest. "Your get up was…uh…interesting."

"I looked like a total moron." Harm snorted when he recalled his get up which made him stick out like a sore thumb. "Nothing fit and my pants itched."

She bit her lower lip to prevent from laughing but it spilled out anyway. "Okay, it wasn't great."

"No, it wasn't." For a while they both laughed until Rusza's voice echoed in Mac's mind. They were about to leave their camp and in the early morning, the gypsy had received two visions. One was of a man who looked like Harm being shot by Russian soldiers.

The other was not a dream but a distinct kind of foreshadowing that Mac recalled from time to time. "Rusza had another vision that day. She said her gypsy gift depicted us as lovers."

"You never said anything."

"You were preoccupied and I sort of forgot." Then her life was turned upside down and any chance at admitting her feelings were destroyed in the blink of an eye. When Mac felt whole again, Harm had moved on with the pretty psychiatrist and a hot romance she thought she couldn't compete with. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"Yes it does. We should have talked about this years ago. Maybe things would have been different?"

Mac shook her head. "I'm certain they would have remained the same. We're too stubborn…We both want to be on top."

Her words were a lancing blow he never expected to feel again. They hurt sure as an arrow through the heart and without noticing his hand came up to his chest in effort to stop the ache. "That can change, Mac. Give it a chance."

"I want to. Look, let's get through this journey, get us back on track and I promise we'll talk more about it, about us."

"I'm not gonna let it go. I want more than whatever this is. I'm sorry it took my career being on the line for us to meet again." His words were heartfelt and passionate but when he reached for her, Mac turned to shut off the light.

"Harm, stop." Every voice in Mac's head labeled her a fool. For once he was verbally affirming his affections and she still kept him at arms length. Dr. McCool was right, Mac was choosing to be alone.

"Mac?"

In the back of her mind Mac could only think about her return to California and the amount of pain that a casual fling with Harm would bring. She wasn't prepared to lose him again and refused to partake in the inevitable broken heart that stemmed from getting too close. "I'm sorry... I can't be more."

"Then why did you stay?"

"Because you asked me to."

"That's not a reason." Harm swallowed and turned onto his back. He took a deep breath and tried to control his anger. They'd hurt each other so badly in the past he couldn't blame her reaction. He only committed when she was slipping through his fingers and that was a pattern he would shatter. "Maybe Rusza's vision was right?"

But they weren't lovers and never had been. "Or maybe we were being swindled by gypsies?"

"You don't believe that."

"I don't know what to believe anymore. Things were easier back then and then we complicated everything. I know most of it was my fault. Mic. Webb. I don't know how to turn back that clock."

He didn't either.