JAG HQ – 19:24 EST

"Earth to Mac. Come in, Mac."

Lt. Col. Sarah MacKenzie yanked her train of thought back to where it belonged – the Montgomery case. "Sorry, I got distracted."

"You’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Is everything okay?" Harm asked. He had that worried look on his face, his clear blue-gray eyes hooded by a dark frown.

"Yeah, everything’s fine," she said quickly.

Harm didn’t look convinced, but after a moment’s hesitation, he dropped the issue, just as she knew he would. Harm cared, but he didn’t push. It was one of the things she liked most about him. She could always depend on—

"Mac?"

Damn it, she’d done it again! She had to quit getting off track. It just wasn’t like her. "Sorry," she said again.

"Look, we’ve got some time before we go to trial on this one," he told her. "Let’s pick this up tomorrow when we’re both fresh."

Gratefully, she closed her notepad. "Good idea."

They had files and reference books scattered all over the conference room table. She was glad Harm had suggested working in here. Neither of their offices had enough space to handle this mess. Unfortunately, working in the conference room also meant having to put everything away each night. Heaving a sigh, she rose to start the tedious process.

"I’ll take care of this stuff," Harm offered.

"No, I’ll help. I don’t expect you to put all this stuff away."

"We’ve been keeping most of it in my office anyway," he insisted. "Go on home. You look beat."

"I am," she admitted. "Are you sure you don’t mind?"

"No, I don’t mind." He made a shooing motion. "Now go."

She gave him a quick smile and gathered up her personal belongings. "Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Will do. Drive safe." Cmdr. Harmon Rabb watched as his partner headed for the door. He was worried about her. Mac was usually one of the most focused people he knew. Her ability to concentrate on one thing for long periods was one of her strongest skills, but lately, she’d been easily distracted, almost edgy at times. When he thought back on it, she hadn’t been herself for several weeks, but the change was so gradual he hadn’t really put it all together until just recently.

Harm was certain something was bothering her, but she kept denying it, just as she had tonight. True, the case they were working on was complex and at times even confusing, but he’d seen her handle worse with far greater ease that she was showing now.

With a shrug, he started cleaning up the conference table. If something really was bothering her, she’d tell him about it when, and if, she was ready.

JAG HQ – 08:22

Harm stepped out of his office and glanced into Mac’s. She still wasn’t in. Now that really wasn’t like her. He was about to phone her and see if everything was all right when she sailed through the big double doors into the bullpen. She spotted him immediately and rushed over.

"Sorry," she panted. "I slept in."

"You?" he replied, incredulous. "The human clock?"

"Hey, note the first word in that description. Human." She breezed by him into her office, dumping an armload of papers and books on the desk. "I was up late working on the Montgomery case. I came up with some interesting—"

"I thought we knocked off last night because that case was starting to fog for both of us," he interrupted. "You were supposed to get some sleep so we could come at it fresh this morning."

"I know, but I couldn’t get it out of my head," she replied quickly. "Lt. Montgomery claims he was approached on two separate occasions by two different people, both wanting to purchase his code information. At first, we assumed they were competitors, trying to out bid each other, but what if—"

The intercom on the desk interrupted with a loud buzz. Mac jumped, startled by the sudden noise. She stabbed the button with a quick, jerking motion. "What!"

There was a long pause, then the admiral’s voice came over the intercom. "Colonel MacKenzie, I trust I’m not interrupting anything."

Mac’s eyes went wide. "I’m sorry, sir. No, of course you’re not interrupting."

"Good, then would you collect Cmdr. Rabb and join me in my office?"

"Yes, sir." She stabbed the intercom off.

Harm’s concern was growing by the minute. Mac wasn’t normally jumpy, but today, she was set on a razor edge. Even her normally graceful movements were sharp and jerky and she was talking a mile a minute. He had a feeling she’d been up all night, and had kept herself going with caffeine – lots of it.

He waved a hand over his shoulder. "We’d better not keep him waiting."

Mac nodded and followed him out of the office. They threaded their way through the bullpen to the admiral’s office. Harm knocked on the door. The admiral called out just as Harm was opening the door.

"Come in," the admiral told them. "Take a seat."

Harm took his usual chair and, as Mac took hers, he noted the way she perched rigidly on the edge of the seat. "Good morning, Admiral."

"Good morning. I’d like you to bring me up to speed on the Montgomery case. I’m taking a lot of heat on this one. The SecNav isn’t too pleased with the thought of navy officers selling codes to the highest bidder."

Harm started to answer, but Mac jumped in before he had the chance. "That’s just it, Admiral. I don’t think there were two bidders here. I was just telling Cmdr. Rabb, I think something deeper is going on."

Harm and the admiral both listened while Mac outlined her theory that the second person to approach Lt. Montgomery was, in fact, a government agent, attempting to ferret out the leak. Harm mentally went over what they knew about the case and realized instantly that what she was proposing was quite a stretch.

"Where are you getting that idea from?" he asked. "I haven’t seen anything to support a theory like that."

"You’re just not looking at it the right way," she insisted. "It would explain why we can’t find any evidence whatsoever that this second person even exists!"

She was nearly shouting and Harm couldn’t help staring at her. "Don’t take it personally. I’m just saying I haven’t seen any support for the theory. That doesn’t mean it’s not there, so calm down."

"Don’t tell me to calm down! Where do you get off—" She stopped abruptly, glancing from him to the admiral and back. "I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little on edge this morning."

"A little?" the admiral commented. "It’s obvious the two of you need to get on the same page with this. Get me a written update by thirteen-hundred this afternoon."

"Aye-aye, sir," Harm said quickly.

The admiral gave a quick nod. "Dismissed."

As they left the office, Harm leaned closer to Mac. "You need to cut out the caffeine."

She whirled on him, eyes flashing. "Would you quit telling me what I need!"

Stung, Harm held up his hands in a defensive posture. "All right, all right. Sorry I said anything. I’ve got a few things I need to finish up before I can settle down on the Montgomery case. I’ll meet you in the conference room in an hour."

Not giving her a chance to reply, he sped up, heading for his office. He kicked the door shut behind him and dropped into his chair. Somewhere inside him, he knew he’d behaved as badly as she had. He should be beyond letting hurt feelings get in the way of his working relationships, but damn it, what he and Mac had went way beyond just work. She was a friend – his best friend.

An hour later, he entered the conference room, loaded down with the files and references they were using on the case. The room was empty.

Dumping everything on the table, he turned and went back to the bullpen, crossing to Mac’s office. The door was shut, the lights out. Confused, he turned around and crossed to Lt. Simms’ desk. "Harriett, have you seen Col. MacKenzie?"

"She left about forty-five minutes ago, sir."

Now he was really confused. "Left? Did she say where she was going?"

Harriett shook her head. "No sir."

"Okay, thanks." Harm went back to his office and grabbed the phone, dialing Mac’s cell number. It rang three times before she finally answered.

"Where are you?" he asked. "We were supposed to work on the Montgomery case."

"I know," she replied. "I got tied up with something. It wasn’t supposed to take this long. I’m just pulling into the parking lot, though, so I’ll be there in a few minutes. Sorry."

She clicked off before he could reply. Harm sat back in his chair, shaking his head. She sure was making a lot of apologies lately.

Mac met him in the conference room a few minutes later, but wouldn’t offer any explanation for where she’d been. Opting not to push, Harm shelved the matter, determined to get down to work on the case.

They finally came up for air around twelve-thirty. He tossed his pen down, rubbing his eyes. "Okay, I think we’ve got enough to update the admiral. I’ll write this up. Why don’t you go grab some lunch?"

"I’m not hungry," she replied.

It was patently untrue. He’d heard her stomach growling off and on over the past hour. If he knew Mac, she hadn’t eaten any breakfast, so she had to be famished by now. "Go ahead," he urged gently. "This won’t take more than a few minutes. As soon as I deliver it to the admiral, I’ll meet you in the mess."

Mac turned slowly in her chair, glaring at him. "Is there some reason why you don’t want me to help write it up? You’re planning to put your own spin on it and quietly bury my theory, aren’t you?"

"No! That’s not fair, Mac. I wouldn’t do that and you know it!"

"Oh, sure, like you haven’t done it before!"

"This is ridiculous!" he snapped, shoving to his feet. "If you think I’m so biased, you write the report and I’ll go to lunch!"

The moment the door closed behind him, Harm slowed to a halt, wondering if he should go back in and apologize. Mac wasn’t normally so volatile and quick to judge. Something was obviously putting her on edge, but until she was ready to acknowledge it, she’d only get more upset if he tried to bring it up. Now more frustrated than hurt, he headed back to his office. Despite his declaration that he was going to lunch, he didn’t have much of an appetite anymore.

HARM’S APARTMENT – 17:00 EST

Feeling the day’s stresses beginning to fade, Harm stepped off the elevator. He crossed to his door and slipped the key in the lock. Instantly, he realized the door wasn’t locked and a slow smile spread across his face. After the day he’d had, he needed this. Pushing the door open, he walked in to the glorious smells of home-cooking. Heather glanced up from the chopping board where she’d obviously been attacking vegetables for quite some time. A bright smile bloomed on her face. "Hi there, sailor. Hungry?"

"You bet." He dropped his briefcase by the door. "I’m going to go change."

She waggled the knife at him. "Well, you’ve only got about ten minutes, so hurry up."

Grinning, Harm bounded up the stairs into the bedroom. He’d only been seeing Heather for a month, but what a month! True, they’d had a few rocky moments already, but it looked like she was coming to terms with his dedication to his job.

He pulled off his uniform, hung it up and slipped into a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. When he descended the stairs a few minutes later, Heather was lifting a large pot off the stove, taking it to the sink to drain. He sprang forward. "Here, let me do that."

"I’ve got it," she replied, deftly draining the steaming water out of the pot. "You can open the wine."

On the top shelf in the fridge, he found a bottle of his favorite white wine. Uncorking it, he poured two glasses and carried them to the table just as Heather brought the main dish to the table. Grilled salmon, brown rice pilaf and veggies. Harm’s mouth started to water. "You are too good to me. This looks fantastic."

She smiled at him, tossing her dark curly hair off her shoulder before bending over the table. "Don’t think I won’t expect payment later."

A slow, slightly devilish grin on his face, he leaned over to kiss her. "Oh, and just what form of payment are you hoping for?"

She giggled and pushed him away. "I don’t think you really need to ask, do you?"

Reluctantly tabling the entertainment till later, Harm sat down in front of a plateful of food. They chatted while they ate, discussing possibilities for the weekend. "So, how was your day?" she asked finally.

It was the one question he was hoping she wouldn’t ask. "Rough. We’ve got a couple of really tough cases on the go right now."

"Well, I guess that comes with the territory," she replied sympathetically.

"I guess so," he agreed. The mention of work reminded him of Mac’s erratic behavior. Damn, he was worried about her!

"Hey," Heather said softly. "Why the frown?"

He sighed heavily. "I’m concerned about Mac."

"Why?" she asked immediately.

"It’s hard to explain, but she just hasn’t been herself lately. She’s distracted and irritable. Her work isn’t up to it’s usual standards. Something’s definitely not right."

"Have you asked her about it?"

"Yeah, but she says nothing’s wrong." He poured more wine and they carried their glasses to the living room. "Let’s forget about work, okay? I’d much rather talk about that payment you requested."

She smiled in that seductive way she had that always lit the fires inside him, but the smile didn’t hold. "I think it’s great that you worry about your friends, Harm. Is there anything I can do to help? I’ve only met Mac a few times, but I like her."

He shook his head. "I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do until she’s ready to let us."

Snuggling up beside him on the couch, Heather tucked her feet under her and took a sip of her wine. "Well, maybe it is something she has to deal with on her own."

Harm curled his arm around her, pulling her against his side. He sincerely hoped she was right, but something told him she wasn’t.

Although he wouldn’t have thought it possible, things only got worse through the rest of the week. Mac was late getting to work twice and then forgot to call and request some documents they needed from Montgomery’s CO.

Along with her rapidly declining performance came an increasingly short fuse. It seemed like she was blowing up at everyone around her for no good reason. Harm finally found a moment alone with her in his office and decided to try again. "Mac, you’ve been pretty...upset...lately. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"No. Why do you keep asking me that?" she fired at him.

"Because we can all see it. Something’s definitely not right, and I’d like to help if I can."

"The best thing you can do for me right now is get off my back and leave me alone." She leapt to her feet and stormed out of the office.

Harm watched her go, totally flabbergasted. This behavior was so totally unlike her.

He wasn’t kidding, though, when he said everyone in the office knew something was wrong. When the admiral called Harm into his office late in the week, he had a feeling it wasn’t to discuss the Montgomery case again.

"Take a seat, Commander." The admiral closed the file he’d been working on and set it aside. "As much as I hate delving into the personal lives of those under my command, I’m afraid I have to this time. Do you have any idea what could be upsetting Col. MacKenzie?"

"No sir. I wish I did," Harm replied emphatically.

"Then it’s not my imagination. You think something’s bothering her too?"

"Yes sir, that’s obvious, but you know Mac. She can be pretty tight-lipped about her personal life."

"Tell me about it," the admiral muttered. "Well, thank you, Commander, and I trust you’ll keep this conversation to yourself."

"Of course, sir." Harm rose to his feet, as he turned to go, the admiral spoke again.

"Commander, ask the colonel to join me, if you would."

"Yes, sir."

Hoping she wouldn’t shoot the messenger, he stopped by her office. Mac was working at her desk and when he knocked on the open door she leapt two feet in the air. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. The admiral wants to see you."

"Okay, I just need to finish this first."

"Uh, Mac, I think he meant now," he suggested.

With a frustrated sigh, she tossed her pen down. A deep scowl on her face, she stood and breezed past him. He cringed mentally. If she went in there with that attitude....

But she did go in with that attitude, and the one she came out with was even worse. Harm spotted her coming back from the admiral’s office and could almost feel the waves of anger rolling off her. As she stormed by, he rose to his feet and followed her to her door. He stopped there, leaning on the frame. "You okay?"

"No, I am not okay! That meddling old fart doesn’t have anything better do than—" Harm stepped quickly into the office and closed the door before someone heard her. "—stick his nose in where it doesn’t belong! He had the nerve to say my work has been slipping and ask if there was anything I wanted to talk about!"

"Well, it has been slipping," he admitted. She wouldn’t want to hear that, but he wasn’t going to lie to her. As expected, she blew, but he wasn’t prepared for the force of the explosion.

"Not you too! What the hell is it with everyone around here? I make a couple of lousy mistakes and suddenly I’m the resident screw-up!"

"Nobody is saying that," he replied, trying to keep his tone even. "But have you ever considered the fact that if everyone around you thinks something’s wrong, maybe there is something wrong?"

"Oh, so now you’re not only a fighter jock and an ace lawyer, you’re also a psychoanalyst? What gives you the right to speculate on my life? Come to think of it, why would you even care?"

"Because I care about you!" he shot back.

"Oh, please! The only things you care about are your flight status, your legal career and your latest female conquest, not necessarily in that order. All I am is a friend, and your friends are so far down the list they don’t even register!"

Her words cut down to the quick. Harm stared at her, not quite able to believe she was saying these things. Lord knows they didn’t have much of a track record when it came to talking about their personal relationship, but he’d always assumed she knew how he felt about her. He bit his lip, struggling to hide just how much her words stung. "If you really think that," he said softly, "then you don’t know the first thing about me and my priorities."

Somehow, they managed to avoid anymore serious blow ups, but by the end of the week, Harm was exhausted. The Montgomery case, on top of an already full caseload, was putting a strain on his energy reserves. He was really dragging his six by the time he got home on Friday night. All he wanted was a beer, something to eat and some peace and quiet. The door was unlocked again and he almost groaned. He enjoyed Heather’s company, but tonight, he wasn’t sure he had the energy to be sociable.

Heather smiled at him as he stepped into the apartment. "Hey there!" Uncoiling from her seat on the sofa, she crossed to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. "Feel like going out for dinner?"

"To be honest, not really." He watched her smile slip. "I’m sorry, but I’ve had one hell of a week. All I want to do is kick back. Do you mind?"

"No," she replied, but her tone gave away her disappointment.

He crossed to the kitchen, dropping his cover on the counter, and pulled a beer from the fridge. "Let’s just throw something together here and relax."

"Whatever you want," she said with a wave of her hand.

"Aw, don’t be like that," he groaned.

"Like what?" she countered. "I’m not allowed to be disappointed? I had a rough week, too you know. You think grading a hundred and twenty midterms isn’t hard work?"

"I didn’t say that, I only meant— Oh, forget it." He set the beer down on the counter with a thud. "I’m going to go change."

He tried to brush past her, but she caught his arm. "I’m sorry, Harm. I shouldn’t have sprung this on you unexpectedly. Go and change. I’ll put together a salad."

He sighed, slipping his arms around her and giving her a hug. "Thanks," he whispered, "and I’m sorry, too."

By the time he’d changed out of uniform, Heather had the salad ready. Things remained a little strained through dinner, but by the time they moved to the living room, they were getting back on track. "We never did decide what we were going to this weekend," she pointed out.

Harm did groan this time. "Aw, hell. I forgot to tell you, I have a meeting with Admiral Chegwidden tomorrow."

"On a Saturday?" she sputtered.

"It’s the only day we’ve both got free before we go to trial on a very important case. I’m sorry. I meant to tell you earlier."

"But Harm, you know I have to go see my father on Sunday. I’ll be gone all day."

"I know, and I said I’m sorry." He sat up and leaned his arms on his knees. "It looks like this weekend is a bust for both of us."

"Well that’s just great. We’ve hardly had any time together lately." She stood up and carried their empty plates to the kitchen.

"And I’m afraid it’s only going to get worse," he told her. "Once this thing goes to trial, Mac and I will be working late pretty well every night."

She very deliberately set the plates on the counter. "You know, I think we’d better have a conversation about this. I know you told me right from the start that your job takes a lot of your time, but I guess I didn’t realize just how much."

Bone weary, Harm pushed himself to his feet. "Look, Heather, I really don’t want this to become a problem between us, but—"

"And that’s what I’m trying to avoid," she interrupted. "I’m trying to tell you—"

A knock on the door interrupted her this time. With a sigh of exasperation, he stalked to the door and yanked it open. Mac stood on the other side, grinning at him. Her eyes were bright and glassy and she wavered slightly as she came through the door.

Harm’s heart damn near stopped. He was in the middle of a serious discussion with his girlfriend, something he enjoyed about as much as a root canal, and Mac has to show up – drunk!

In all the years he’d known her, she’d only slipped off the wagon once and the reasons for it that time were understandable. What had pushed her off this time?

She sauntered into the apartment, throwing a wave at Heather. "Hi. Am I interrupting something?"

"No."

"Yes." Harm knew it sounded rude, but this really wasn’t the best time to be dealing with an intoxicated Mac. He knew from experience how sharp her tongue could be.

Mac cast her gaze back and forth between them. "Aw, having a little lover’s spat?" She turned to Heather but jerked her thumb over her shoulder at Harm. "Ya gotta watch this one. When it comes to heart-to-heart talks, he likes to pretend he’s a clam."

A dark frown spread across Heather’s face. "What would you know about heart-to-heart talks with him."

Mac gave a bark of laughter. "Prob’ly more than you ever will."

Harm grabbed Mac by the shoulders and forcibly turned her toward the door. "I think that’s enough now, Mac. Go home and— Oh, damn, what am I thinking?" He fired a glance at Heather. "Call her a cab, would you?"

"Definitely." Heather reached for the phone.

Harm’s only thought was to keeping Mac and Heather apart so he grabbed a light jacket from the peg by the door. "I’ll wait downstairs with her till it gets here. I’ll be back in a few minutes."

Hustling Mac out the door, he slammed the elevator cage open, helped her inside and hung onto her arm until they got outside. She finally reacted to the hand on her arm, yanking away. "Hey, are you kicking me out?"

Harm’s heart turned over in his chest. That was the last thing he wanted to do, but what choice did he have? He and Heather had been discussing the impact his job had on their relationship. Was he supposed to tell her to leave so he could deal with a drunken partner? "You need to go home and sleep this off, Mac, and then you and I need to have a very long talk. Something is obviously wrong."

"Why, because I had a drink?"

"Yes! You’re an alcoholic, Mac! You don’t drink!"

"Well I did tonight," she replied with a giggle. She staggered suddenly and he had to catch her before she fell. She leaned heavily against him and he tucked her against his side, trying to keep her safe and wishing he’d been able to do a better job of that earlier. Sorrow stabbed through him like a hot knife and he couldn’t help pulling her just a little closer, whispering, "Aw, Mac."

By the time he got back upstairs, Heather had the kitchen tidied up. She also had her coat on. Harm’s shoulders slumped as he watched her pick up her purse. "Don’t go."

"I think it’s best if I do," she said softly. "And Harm, please don’t think this has anything to do with Mac, at least not directly. She’s obviously got some problems right now and she can use all the friends she can get, so don’t be too hard on her. It’s just that while you were downstairs, I had a chance to think. I don’t know if I’m cut out to be involved with a career military man. This has way more to do with me than it does with you."

"Heather..."

She crossed to him and kissed him gently. "I’ll call you in a couple of days. I promise. I’m not saying it’s over. I just need a bit of room to think." Before he could answer, she slipped out and closed the door behind her.

Harm stared around the suddenly empty apartment, feeling a little shell-shocked. All he’d wanted tonight was peace and quiet, and now that he had it, he felt like hell.

Harm’s hard-won solitude only lasted a little over two hours before a loud knock on the door jarred him out of his thoughts. He was half-expecting it to be Mac again, but instead, a middle-aged man in a business suit stood on the other side. "Harmon Rabb?"

"Yes," he replied cautiously.

The man produced a badge. "Lt. Walsh, DC Police. Are you familiar with a Heather Wilson?"

Harm’s gut clenched in a knot. "Yes. What’s wrong?"

"She was assaulted in an alley behind this building about two hours ago."

Harm couldn’t draw a full breath. "Assaulted? Is she...all right?"

"I’m afraid she was seriously injured. She’s being taken to the hospital."

"Oh, God," he breathed. "She only left here a couple of hours ago."

"Do you remember exactly what time?" the detective asked.

"What?" He was still in shock. "No, I’m sorry. I didn’t look at the time." He grabbed his keys and a jacket. "Which hospital?"

The detective spotted Harm’s cover on the shelf beside the door. "You in the navy?"

"Yes. I’m a commander, assigned to the JAG Corps."

"A lawyer, huh? Then you’ll understand why I have to ask you a few questions before I can allow you to see the victim."

Harm stared at the man. "I’m a suspect?"

"Can you account for your whereabouts over the past two hours?" Walsh asked.

"I was here."

"Alone?"

"Yes, alone! Look, just tell me if Heather’s all right!"

"She was badly injured, but I don’t think her life’s in any danger. She was only found a few minutes ago."

Harm felt like he’d taken another blow to the stomach. Heather laid, battered and beaten, out in the alley for two hours? While he sat up here staring at the god-damn ceiling? He had to fight to keep the contents of his stomach where it belonged. He took a deep, steadying breath. "Please, which hospital?"

WASHINGTON HOSPITAL CENTER – 23:17 EST

Harm paced the waiting area until he was ready to tear the walls down with his bare hands. A nurse finally came and escorted him to a curtained off cubicle in the emergency treatment area. Heather lay propped up on the bed, a huge bandage over her right eye, which was swollen shut. There was an equally huge and angry-looking bruise on the left side of her jaw. Her left arm was in a sling, her hand encased in bandages.

Harm swallowed hard, slowly approaching the bed. Heather peered at him through one eye. "Hi," she said hoarsely.

He closed the distance to the bed in one large step. "Hi. Are you... How do you feel?"

"About how I look," she said with clenched teeth. "My jaw is dislocated."

The fist in Harm’s gut took another swing at him. "Jeez, Heather. I...I didn’t know you were.... I should have walked you to your car."

"I’ve left your place safely plenty of times," she mumbled. "You didn’t have any reason to think tonight would be different."

There was something about the way she said it; the investigator in Harm suddenly went on alert. "Do you know who did this?" he asked.

She glanced away quickly. "No."

Harm very carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. "Heather, if you know something, you have to tell us. We have to find whoever did this."

"Harm, just drop it. Please."

Now he knew something wasn’t right. He put a hand on her arm and squeezed gently. "Hey, talk to me. I can tell you know something. You don’t have to be afraid. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’ll keep you safe."

Heather’s eye filled with tears. "You won’t believe me. You...you’ll hate me."

"What are you talking about?"

She pulled her arm out from under his hand, turning away. "Harm, it was Mac. Mac’s the one who did this to me."

ADMIRAL CHEGWIDDEN’S HOME – 00:34 EST

Harm pulled up in front of the admiral’s house, then realized he didn’t even remember the drive up here. He was still so stunned by Heather’s identification, and by what he’d learned afterward, he was lucky he even remembered how to get here. He shut the car off, but sat without moving. What the hell was he doing, anyway? The admiral was probably sound asleep. He wouldn’t take kindly to being disturbed.

But he wouldn’t take kindly to finding out something like this had been kept from him till morning, either. As he climbed out of the car, he noticed a light on in the front window. Maybe the admiral hadn’t gone to bed. Mounting the steps to the porch, he knocked softly on the door.

It opened a moment later. Dressed in a jogging suit, Admiral Chegwidden peered through the screen at him. "Commander? It’s after midnight. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Sir, I know it’s late, but may I come in?"

The admiral shoved the screen door open. "What’s wrong? You look like hell."

"Well, sir, I feel that way. Admiral, do you remember Heather Wilson, the young woman I escorted to the British Embassy party a few weeks ago?"

"Yes." He waved Harm to a seat on the sofa and sat down in an overstuffed chair beside it.

"She was assaulted tonight, leaving my apartment building."

Chegwidden’s face folded into a frown. "That’s awful. Is she all right?"

"She’s pretty beat up, sir, but I’m afraid that’s not the worst of it," Harm admitted reluctantly.

"What?" Chegwidden paused. "You’re not being accused of doing it, are you?"

"No sir..." He took a deep breath. "Col. MacKenzie is."

The admiral stared blankly at him for a moment. "Let me get this straight. Col. MacKenzie is accused of assaulting your girlfriend as she left your building tonight."

Harm hated the way the admiral could reduce things so succinctly. "Yes, sir."

"Well, what makes them think she did it?"

He took a deep breath and started at the beginning. "Mac showed up earlier at my apartment. She...she’d been drinking, Admiral. She and Heather exchanged a few words before I could get Mac outside to wait for a cab. I stayed with her till the cab arrived. I put her in it myself."

"Then check with the cab company. They should be able to verify they took the colonel home."

"I did check with them sir." He hesitated. "The driver let her off a block away from my place. Heather left shortly after Mac did, so that means she was in the area when Heather was attacked. And Admiral...Heather identified Mac as her assailant."

Chegwidden let out a huge breath, slumping back against the chair, muttering softly, "Oh, shit."

MAC’S APARTMENT – 01:45 EST

Harm glanced at the admiral, then pounded on the door for the third time. Relief spread through him when he finally heard the rattle of the lock. A second later, the door swung open and a very groggy Mac squinted at them. "Harm? Admiral? It’s...the middle of the night."

"Can we come in?" Harm asked.

Stumbling slightly, she swung the door wide. "Whatever."

They stepped inside and Harm closed the door. "Mac, Heather was assaulted tonight."

Mac shook her head, as though trying to clear it. "Assaulted? What...when...?"

The admiral glanced at Harm, then gently took Mac’s arm and guided her to the sofa. It was a good idea. She was about to fall down. "Colonel, where were you around nine o’clock tonight?"

"I...I don’t know. I guess that’s about the time I was at Harm’s." She looked up at him, still having trouble focusing. "Isn’t that about when I was there?"

"Yes, it is. It’s also about the time Heather was attacked."

Mac suddenly looked a little more alert. "Wait a minute! You think I did it? I left in a cab, Harm. You know that."

Harm sat down beside her. "Mac, we know the cab only drove you about a block, then you made the driver pull over and let you out."

She hesitated a moment. "Yeah, I did, didn’t I. I felt like walking."

"All the way here?" the admiral questioned.

"No, of course not. I walked for a while then I called a cab again."

"What time?" Harm asked quickly.

Mac shrugged. "I don’t know."

"What cab company?" the admiral fired at her.

"I don’t know that either. Wait, maybe I do. It’s the one I programmed into the speed dial on my phone." Reaching for her purse on the side table, she dug out the phone and handed it to the admiral. He started checking the speed dial.

Bleary-eyed, Mac looked up at Harm. "You still haven’t said why you think it was me. Just ‘cause I was there?"

"No, that’s not the only reason. Heather identified you as her attacker."

Mac sprang to her feet, but the indignation she was trying for fell flat when she wavered badly. "Now just a minute! I don’t know what that...that...college puffball...told you, but I didn’t lay a hand on her. I didn’t even see her!"

Harm caught her arm and pulled her back down before she fell down. "Relax, Mac. We’ll figure this out. Just calm down."

The admiral gestured with the phone. "Red Top Cabs." He rose to his feet. "Colonel, I’m going to take your phone with me so we can verify your call to the cab company. Go back to bed and...get some rest. Report to me first thing in the morning."

"Yes sir." She didn’t even make an attempt to get up when Harm rose to join the admiral at the door.

The admiral looked down at her, a look of sad disgust on his face, but when he turned to Harm, his expression turned to confusion. "College puffball?"

Harm rolled his eyes. "Heather is a teacher at a junior college."

As they went out and closed the door behind them, Harm turned to Chegwidden. "Sir, should we have left her there? I mean, she is a suspect in a felony."

"I know that, Commander, and I know the DC Police will probably pull her in for questioning before she can report to me in the morning, but if we take her in now, she’ll land in the brig."

JAG HQ – 08:04 EST

To Harm’s surprise, and relief, Mac arrived at the office only a few minutes late. He saw her go by on her way to the admiral’s office, but she didn’t so much as look at him. He wanted more than anything to be there with her, but the admiral had made it clear he wanted to speak to her alone.

AJ called out in response to the knock on the door, both praying it was Col. MacKenzie and hoping it wasn’t. He was not looking forward to this particular duty. She strode into the office, stopping in front of the desk. Standing rigidly at attention, she barked out, "Reporting as ordered, sir."

"At ease, Colonel." He rose to his feet, rounding the desk. The colonel looked like hell. Her complexion was much paler than usual, except for the dark smudges under her eyes. "Were you questioned by the DC police last night?"

"Yes sir. They arrived not long after you and Cmdr. Rabb left."

"I got a phone call from NCIS this morning," he told her. "Because you and Cmdr. Rabb are both military personnel, the DC police have, reluctantly, tossed this mess into our back yard. NCIS will be continuing the investigation and if they find enough evidence, you will be charged."

There was a brief flicker of emotion on her face, but she held it together.

"Colonel, I want you to know I’m not passing judgment on you, but this has to be done by the book."

"Of course, sir."

He took a deep breath. "I’m removing you from duty, pending the outcome of the investigation. Consider yourself on leave, effective immediately."

She broke her stance then, whirling on him. "But Admiral, the Montgomery case!"

"Cmdr. Rabb will have to handle it alone. You’re a suspect in a felony, Colonel. It would be highly inappropriate to have you appearing in court at the moment."

She started to say something, then stopped, her shoulders slumping. "Yes, sir."

"That will be all, Colonel. Dismissed."

As AJ watched her turn and march out, he couldn’t help the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He desperately wanted to believe there wasn’t a shred of truth to the assault allegations, but he couldn’t quite manage it. Not given her bizarre behavior recently. He sighed and dropped into his chair. One of the most squared away Marines he’d ever met – and one of the best friends he had – was in a pot of trouble, and there was nothing he could do to help.

There was only one way to describe the look on Mac’s face when she came out of the admiral’s office. Devastated. As she went by Harm’s door, he leapt to his feet and followed her into her office. This time, he closed the door right away. "What happened?"

"I’ve been suspended from duty, pending the outcome of an NCIS investigation," she replied flatly.

Harm nodded sadly. "I had a feeling that might happen, but don’t worry, Mac. We’ll get to the bottom of this."

Refusing to even look at him, she gathered together a few personal items. "You’ll have to handle the Montgomery case without me. I’m sorry about that." She finally looked up, her dark eyes filled with anger and betrayal. "But if you honestly think I would beat up your girlfriend, you wouldn’t want to work with me anyway, now would you."

Before he could reply, she slipped around the desk and brushed past him, striding out of the office. By the time he got turned around, she was out of sight.

Harm spent the next three days feeling like he was playing for the wrong side in a football game. He went to see Heather every day, but he could tell she wasn’t completely comfortable having him there. She was cool and distant toward him, and although she swore it had nothing to do with his partner being her alleged attacker, he knew the bond between them, as fragile as it had been, was broken.

Every day, when he left the hospital, he felt compelled to phone Mac, but she wasn’t picking up. He drove by her place three times, but couldn’t bring himself to get out of the car. He could see lights on in her apartment, and the occasional shadow pass by the window, so he knew she was home, but he was pretty sure she wouldn’t open the door for him.

Sitting in the car outside her apartment, Harm battled down a wave of something very close to despair. She felt like he’d let her down, that he was siding with Heather, and in a way, maybe he was, but Heather didn’t think so.

So here he was, stuck squarely between Mac and the woman in his life – again. He thought about Heather, sitting in that hospital room, surrounded by cards and flowers from friends and colleagues. She didn’t want him around, not really. She didn’t need him. Mac did.

Mac had nobody to back her up, to stand in her corner and fight for her. She needed him in a way Heather never would, but Mac was turning away from the whole damned world, and had been for weeks. He’d watched helplessly as she crawled farther and farther inside herself, pushing away everyone who tried to help. And now, when she needed someone the most, she wouldn’t even speak to him. Swallowing hard against the sudden lump in his throat, Harm started the car and drove slowly away.

Part 2