JAG HQ – 10:30 EST

Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. closed his briefcase and dragged it off the desk, snagging his cover off the top of the filing cabinet as he went by. He really hated surprises, especially when they had a negative impact on a case he was pleading only a few hours from now. His co-counsel, Lt. Colonel Sarah "Mac" MacKenzie, met him at the door. He barely slowed down. "I’m going out to talk to Petty Officer Graham’s sister. I want to be sure she’ll testify to what she told you earlier this morning. If she’s willing to say her brother was with her till ten-thirty, there’s no way he could have been in the bar when the fight broke out, let alone see Lt. Young break a bottle over someone’s head."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Mac asked.

"No, stay here and stay on top of things. I don’t want to intimidate her with too many uniforms."

"No problem. Why don’t we get together at lunch and go over everything one more time?"

"Sounds good," Harm agreed. "I should be back by then."

With a wave, he breezed out the double doors. As he stepped into the corridor, he thought he heard someone calling his name and glanced back briefly. No one seemed to be looking in his direction, so he turned back, slamming abruptly into a small, mousy-haired woman.

Instinctively, he caught her arm to steady her. "I’m so sorry! Are you all right?"

"Yes," she said shyly. "I’m fine. Are you okay?"

"Sure. No problem," he lied. She’d stepped on his foot and the clasp on her purse had jabbed his arm. They both hurt like hell. Apologizing again, Harm left her and hurried to the elevator.

Typical of the day he was having, the traffic was a nightmare. It took him at least twenty minutes longer than it should have to get to Ms. Graham’s house. She welcomed him inside, but he could tell she was nervous. She led the way into the living room and offered him a seat.

He turned on the charm just a bit, trying to put her at ease. "I realize you don’t want to get your brother in trouble, Ms. Graham, but he’ll be in worse trouble if he makes a false claim under oath. Are you certain he was here until ten-thirty?"

"Yes, I’m sure."

Halfway through the interview, Harm began to feel ill. It started as just a bit of queasiness, but when his stomach wouldn’t settle down, he cut the interview short. He had what he needed anyway. On the way back to the office, he went over everything he’d eaten recently. Maybe the yogurt he’d had for breakfast had been a bit off.

By the time he got back to the office, the queasiness had mushroomed into full-blown nausea. He was sweaty, too, like he was running a fever. Damn! This was the worst possible time to get sick. Lt. Young’s case was at a crucial stage. He had to discount Petty Officer Graham’s testimony in court this afternoon. If he didn’t, the chances for an acquittal were almost nil.

If he absolutely had to, he could hand things off to Mac, but that wasn’t fair to her. She’d spent all her time on her own part of the case. He’d barely have time to brief her on what Graham’s sister said this morning.

All he had to do was get through the proceedings this afternoon, then he could give in if he still felt sick, and he was pretty sure he would. It felt like one nasty case of the flu coming on. His chest was tight and heavy and he was sweating like he’d run a marathon.

He’d promised Mac they’d meet for lunch and go over the case, but he really needed a few minutes to get himself squared away. Ducking into the head, he splashed cold water on his face. It cleaned away the sweat, but didn’t do a thing for the increasing tightness in his chest.

As he straightened from the sink, a blinding pain gripped his whole body. His chest felt like someone had parked a Tomcat on it. Gripping the edge of the sink, he fought to breathe through the pain.

After a what seemed like an eternity, the pain began to ease. He heard the door open and straightened quickly just as Sturgis came around the privacy screen that hid the door.

Obviously, he wasn’t fast enough, because Sturgis stopped in his tracks. "Hey, are you all right?"

"Yeah, I’m fine." Harm fought to keep his voice steady. In a little over an hour, they would be going head-to-head in the courtroom. He knew Turner well enough to know the man played to win, even if it meant taking advantage of an opponent’s illness.

"You sure? You look like hell."

Harm managed a chuckle. "Thanks, but complimenting the defense attorney won’t help you win your case."

"I don’t need any help," Sturgis replied calmly. "He’s guilty, and I intend to prove it."

"We’ll see about that." Struggling for a deep breath, Harm straightened his spine and strode from the room.

Mac was waiting for him in the officer’s mess. She took one look at him as he sat down and her features clouded with a frown. "Are you okay? You look like hell."

Harm had to laugh. "People keep telling me that. Careful, I might develop a complex."

"Afraid of bruising that mile-high ego of yours?" she teased.

"Hey, ouch, you are in fine form today, but save it for the courtroom, will ya, Mac? I don’t think I’m up to it today."

Her smile evaporated. "You really aren’t well, are you?"

"Nah, I’m fine. Just a touch of the flu."

"Do you want to ask for a continuance?" she asked quickly.

"That wouldn’t be fair to Lt. Young. I’ll be okay." He saw her skeptical look. "Honest, it’s just a touch of the flu!"

Mac didn’t believe him then, and she believed him even less by the time they went into court. They took their places as the proceedings started, but she was worried about him. Sturgis called Petty Officer Graham to the stand as Harm dug out his notepad and a pen.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him closely. He looked terrible. His face was a pasty gray and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He reached for his water glass and Mac was sure she saw his hand tremble.

This was ridiculous. He was obviously sick and needed to be in bed. Turner had just finished questioning Graham and was returning to his chair. Mac made a move to rise and request a recess but before she had the chance, Harm was on his feet.

"Petty Officer Graham, what time did you arrive at the bar that night?" As he spoke, Harm crossed behind Mac’s chair to approach the witness.

"Around twenty-two hundred, sir."

Harm stopped, his feet planted. Someone who didn’t know him well probably would have thought nothing was wrong, but Mac could tell he was struggling to stay steady. "Around twenty-two hundred? Can you be more precise?"

Harm’s voice sounded rough. He tensed suddenly, hunching his back as though gripped by a sharp pain. He recovered so quickly, Mac was certain no one else saw it. Then Sturgis caught her eye, giving her a worried look. He’d seen it too.

"I’m sorry, sir," the petty officer was saying. "I didn’t look at my watch. I...sir, are you all right?"

Mac’s gaze snapped back to Harm. He was hunched over, his arms clenched across his chest. He turned slowly toward her, his mouth half open as if he was trying to say something. His eyes were filled with something she’d never seen from him – stark, raw fear.

Then, so slowly it was almost surreal, his eyes rolled back in his head and Harm slowly crumpled to the floor.

Mac was at his side without being aware of moving. An instant later, Sturgis dropped to his knees on the opposite side of Harm’s still form. Instinctively, she reached to check his pulse. Nothing. A wave of horror rushed through her.

"He’s not breathing!" Sturgis cried, already clawing at Harm’s tie and collar.

Mac’s instincts kicked in, banishing the rising tide of panic. "I’ll do that, you start CPR."

She switched jobs with Sturgis, already starting mouth to mouth as he ripped Harm’s shirt open and began the chest compressions. Mac’s whole world narrowed to a pinpoint focus. All that mattered was the task before her, breathing for Harm to keep him alive.

A hand touched her shoulder, but she ignored it. She had to keep the rhythm, breathing steadily after each set of chest compressions. The hand tugged at her arm this time and still she ignored it.

"Ma’am, the medics are here. Ma’am? Colonel?"

This time, the hang gripped her arm and forcibly pulled her back. A white-shirted paramedic slid into the space she’d vacated. As she rose to her feet, Sturgis appeared at her side. Silently, they watched the medics work.

Admiral AJ Chegwidden looked up when the knock sounded on his door, but he didn’t even have a chance to reply before Tiner burst in. "Sir, the Master At Arms just reported from the courtroom. Commander Rabb has collapsed!"

AJ was on his feet before Tiner had even taken a breath. "Collapsed? What’s wrong with him?"

"I don’t know sir. Civilian paramedics are already on the scene."

Leaving Tiner behind at his post, AJ strode briskly around the corner toward the courtroom. Paramedics. It must be bad. What the hell was going on?

AJ was prepared for almost anything, but the pandemonium in the courtroom still caught him off guard. Activity was centered around a tight knot of people in front of the defense table. As he got closer, AJ could see the paramedics working over Commander Rabb. Off to one side stood Col. MacKenzie and Commander Turner, looking a little disheveled and a lot worried. He crossed to them. "What happened?"

"He just...dropped, sir," Turner replied. "Col. MacKenzie and I started CPR right away, but..."

"CPR?" AJ couldn’t contain his shock. "You mean his heart stopped?"

Mac heard the conversation going on beside her, but it seemed hollow and distant, as though it came from a long way off. She couldn’t take her eyes off Harm. He was so still, so lifeless. She’d seen him battered and bruised, beat up, wiped out and even unconscious, but she’d never seen him look like this. He was so still, so...dead. Dear God, Harm was dead!

An instant later, the paramedics applied the electric shock paddles to Harm’s chest. His whole body bucked violently as the current went through him. Every pair of eyes in the room went to the heart monitor. Apprehension expanded to fill the room with an air of palpable tension. No one even breathed.

A beep. Then another. The paramedics burst into action, snapping the tension. "I’ve got a pulse," one of them announced.

"He’s breathing," the other one said, "but it’s very shallow. Get the ventilator on him and let’s roll."

A few minutes later, they had him loaded onto the stretcher and were headed for the elevator. Mac jogged beside them, her body on autopilot. She was vaguely aware of the admiral and Sturgis on either side of her, but couldn’t drag her attention from the stretcher.

The admiral, bless him, suggested she ride in the ambulance while he and Turner followed by car. She climbed into the back of the ambulance, barely acknowledging the medic when he showed her where to sit.

Harm’s heart stopped twice more on the way to the hospital. Both times, they got it going again quickly, but each time it happened, Mac felt herself die a little inside. She couldn’t lose him. Not like this. One minute, he’d been in his natural element, on his feet in a courtroom. The next, he was lying lifeless on the floor. It couldn’t end this way. It just couldn’t!

When they wheeled him into the emergency room, Mac was forced to stay in the waiting area. Her gut clenched painfully as Harm was wheeled out of sight. She knew it was crazy, but somehow she felt as long as she was with him, he would be all right.

Admiral Chegwidden strode in a moment later, Sturgis in step beside him. They came straight over to her. Mac forced herself to stop her restless pacing and face her C.O. "No word yet, Admiral."

He nodded, his expression clouded with concern and compassion. "I’m sure he’ll be all right, Colonel. He’s strong and healthy."

"That’s what I thought, too, sir, but strong and healthy men don’t have heart attacks!" Mac immediately clamped down on her emotions. "I’m sorry, sir."

"That’s all right, Colonel. It’s understandable, and you’re right. Men as healthy as Commander Rabb don’t normally have heart attacks. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what the doctors say."
So they waited. Mac paced the floor, then sat for awhile, then paced some more. She hated hospitals. Normally, the antiseptic smell, even the very feel of the place, got to her, but today she barely noticed it. All she saw was the slow, relentless march forward of the thin black hands on the wall clock. Ten minutes, twenty, forty.

Almost an hour went by before a doctor finally sought them out. The woman looked weary as she stuffed her stethoscope in her pocket. "Commander Rabb is stable, for now."

"For now?" Mac repeated. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means he’s very sick. We’ve had an extremely difficult time keeping his heartbeat regulated."

"Doctor," the admiral broke in. "Commander Rabb wouldn’t be my first choice as a candidate for a heart attack. Do you have any idea yet why this happened?"

"No," she said on a sigh. "That part is a complete mystery, but I agree with you. He seems quite fit and healthy otherwise."

"Can we see him?" Mac asked quickly.

"Not yet. They’ll be moving him up to the I.C.U. in a few minutes and you can see him then, but keep it brief, please."

Ten nerve-racking minutes later, they were directed to the fourth-floor I.C.U. ward. A nurse met them at the door. "You can see him for a few moments, but only one at a time."

The admiral nodded, then turned to Mac. "Why don’t you go first, Colonel."

She found a small smile for him. "Thank you, sir."

The nurse escorted her to a curtained off cubicle. "He’s very weak, so don’t expect much from him. Just let him know you’re here."

Mac nodded, her mouth going dry. The nurse pulled back the curtain and stepped aside to let her in.

Harm lay surrounded by monitors and other equipment beeping and whirring in the background. Even in the dim lighting, the unnatural pallor of his skin struck Mac hard. His face was nearly as white as the sheets on the bed, contrasting sharply with his dark hair.

Almost unconsciously, Mac reached for his hand the moment she was close enough. It felt cool as she clasped it tightly between both of hers. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, but only for a moment. He was barely conscious, reacting instinctively to her touch. She brushed the hair off his forehead with her fingertips, whispering softly to him, "shh, go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up."

After fluttering again briefly, his eyes drifted closed.

Mac stood a moment longer, reluctant to let go of his hand. She glanced at the monitors, but their readouts meant nothing to her. All she knew was that one of the strongest and most vibrant men she knew had been cut down for no apparent reason.

Reluctantly, she left the cubicle a few minutes later, waiting while first the admiral then Sturgis stepped in briefly. Both came out looking about as shaken as she felt. Admiral Chegwidden spoke softly. "There’s nothing more we can do here at the moment, and the rest of the staff is no doubt waiting for news."

Mac stepped forward instantly. "Sir, I’d like to stay here."
He regarded her silently for a brief moment. "All right, Colonel. I’d appreciate having someone here who can let us know immediately if there’s any change."

"Of course I will, and thank you, sir."

Sturgis glanced at the admiral before turning to Mac. "Are you sure you want to wait alone, Mac? It could be hours before we hear any more news."

She smiled at his concern. "I’m okay. I just want to be close by..."

He nodded quickly, saving her from having to say more. Both he and the admiral gave her a look of compassion and understanding before heading back down the corridor. Mac watched them go, then took up a post outside the cubicle. She meant was she said to Sturgis. She didn’t need anyone to stay with her, but deep inside, she had a feeling it was going to be a long, lonely vigil.

AJ and Sturgis arrived back at JAG HQ a short time later, but were stopped three times before they even got to Ops. It seemed the entire staff was milling around the bullpen. AJ moved to the middle of the room and took a deep breath. He looked at all the expectant faces, whishing he had something to tell these people. "May I have your attention, please. You’re all no doubt concerned about Commander Rabb. His condition is...grave, but he’s stable at the moment. You’ll know more when I do, so for now, let’s try to get back to work."

For a brief moment, silence reigned, then a murmur of conversation broke out as people returned to their duties. At least, they gave that appearance. AJ had no doubt the topic of conversation wasn’t normal JAG operations. It wasn’t every day one of the senior lawyers dropped like a rock in the middle of cross examination.

Not quite willing to retreat to the solitude of his office just yet, AJ hovered at the edge of the room. He saw Lt. Roberts and his wife, Lt. Simms, approach Commander Turner. "Sir," Bud asked, "exactly what does ‘grave’ mean? Is Commander Rabb going to be all right?"

"I’m afraid we don’t know for sure, Lieutenant," Turner replied gently, "but he is stable for now."

"It just doesn’t make any sense," Harriet said quickly, echoing everyone’s thoughts. "Commander Rabb is as healthy as a horse!"

Three hours passed and Mac hadn’t moved from her chair, except to pace the corridor when the waiting became too much. Her nerves were frayed to the very edge and she didn’t know how much more she could take. The same nurse who’d assisted them earlier, a heavyset woman somewhere in her forties, finally came over. "The cafeteria is down on the first floor. Maybe you’d like to get a cup of coffee or something."

Mac rose, stretching tense back muscles. "No, I...I need to stay here."

The older woman nodded, smiling gently. "He’s lucky, you know, having a woman like you."

"Oh, we’re not..." Mac’s voice trailed off. She’d been about to say that she and Harm weren’t a couple, but then she’d have to explain what they were, and she didn’t know how to do that. ‘Friends’ didn’t even come close, but nothing else she could think of seemed right either.

The nurse smiled knowingly and gave Mac’s arm a quick squeeze. "Why don’t you move your chair and sit with him for awhile."

"I didn’t think that was allowed."

She smiled again. "It’s not."

Smiling back briefly, Mac picked up her chair and moved it in beside Harm’s bed. He hadn’t moved since she first saw him. Slipping into her chair, Mac again picked up his hand, folding it in hers. Despite his pallor, Harm looked so peaceful Mac had trouble remembering he was gravely ill. It was easy to fool herself into thinking he was merely sleeping, that all it would take would be to speak his name and he would wake.

But then, if he were only sleeping, she wouldn’t be holding his hand this way. It was a liberty she wouldn’t have allowed herself if she thought he would wake up soon. She’d always been so careful not to show any outward indication of just how deep her feelings were for this man, especially not to him.

The sudden absurdity of that truth washed over her in a wave. Sitting here with him, her heart aching with sadness and fear, Mac suddenly couldn’t think of a single valid reason why she’d kept her feelings a secret all this time.

What if Harm had died there on the courtroom floor, and she’d never taken the chance and told him how she felt? He could still die. His unnatural stillness and the slightly erratic rhythm of the heart monitor reminded her of that. How could she live the rest of her life knowing Harm had died without ever knowing she loved him?

The simple answer was, she couldn’t.

Leaning closer to him, she gripped his hand even harder. "Don’t you dare get any worse, Harmon Rabb," she whispered. "There’s something I haven’t told you."
 

Shortly after five o’clock, the nurse came to tell Mac that someone was asking for her at the I.C.U. desk. It was Bud Roberts and Harriet Simms. Both wore worried frowns. Bud took a step forward the moment he saw her. "How is he, Colonel? They wouldn’t let us see him."

"He’s still sleeping, but so far, things are going well. I’m sure he’ll be out of I.C.U. soon and you’ll be able to see him then."

"Yes, ma’am. That’s what the nurse said," Harriet confirmed. "How are you holding up ma’am?"

"I’m fine, Harriet, thanks, and thank you both for coming. When Harm wakes up, I’ll tell him you were here."

"Thank you, ma’am. You’ll call us at home if there’s any change?"

"Of course." She gave them both the warmest smile she could muster. "Go home, you two."

She watched them reluctantly start back down the corridor. As they walked, Bud’s hand sought Harriet’s in a gesture so natural it nearly brought tears to Mac’s eyes. Deep down inside, where she never let anyone else see, a part of her wished she could be that open about her own feelings, but her relationship with Harm had always been too complex, too confusing, to permit that kind of easy expression.

So many times, usually at the most awkward and inopportune moment possible, she’d been hit with an overwhelming desire to simply take his hand, look him in the eye, and tell him. But she never had. Usually, she justified her cowardice by telling herself it wasn’t the right moment, that there’d be time for them later, but this afternoon had been a painful reminder that later might never come. No one was ever promised tomorrow.

Admiral Chegwidden arrived about half an hour after Bud and Harriet left. He was permitted in, but only briefly. Mac started to come to her feet when she saw him, but he waved her back to her chair. "I called Commander Rabb’s mother. She’ll be on the next flight out. I’ll see that someone picks her up at the airport and brings her straight here."

"That’s very thoughtful," Mac whispered back. "Is she okay?"

"Well, she’s worried, just like the rest of us, but she sounded like she’s handling it all right."

Mac glanced down at Harm. "She’s been through a lot with these Rabb men, sir. She’d have to be good at handling things."

Eventually, the hours spent with her nerves on a knife edge began to catch up with Mac. The adrenaline in her system slowly dissipated and fatigue set in. Again sitting alone with him, his hand clasped in hers, Mac dozed fitfully. Half asleep, she felt a slight movement under her hand. It came again and Mac was instantly alert.

Harm was coming around at last. He shifted restlessly under the sheet, automatically turning toward her touch. Mac was about to remove her hand, instinctively withdrawing from any overt display of affection that might seem too familiar, but his fingers closed weakly over hers. Mac made an instant, almost unconscious decision. If he wanted to hold onto her, she’d let him, and she’d hold on right back.

Very slowly, his eyes opened, settling on her face. This time, she saw them soften with recognition. She smiled gently and squeezed his hand. "Hi, there."

"Hi." It came out as a dry croak. He swallowed hard. "What happened?"

"You...collapsed in court. Do you remember?"

He gave only a weak shake of his head.

Mac took a deep breath, steeling herself. "It was your heart. The doctors are working to find out what’s wrong."

Still groggy and confused, Harm frowned. "There’s...there’s no history of heart...problems in...my family."

"I know. Don’t worry. They’ll get to the bottom of it." She was about to say more, but the curtain at the end of bed suddenly slid back. A petite young nurse stepped in carrying a tray. She stopped, startled. "Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were awake. This will only take a moment."

Moving to the far side of the bed, she put her tray aside and checked the monitors, making a notation on his chart. Harm watched her for a moment. He tried to say something, then stopped, licking dry lips.

"Can he have some water?" Mac asked quickly.

The nurse glanced down at the chart in her hand. "Yes, small amounts."

She started to reach for a pitcher of water near the head of the bed. Mac rose and went around the bed. "I’ll do that." Taking the pitcher and a paper cup, Mac returned to her earlier post. The nurse handed her a bent straw.

Mac poured a small amount of water into the cup, positioned the straw and held it for him while Harm took several small sips. Just the effort of lifting his head took everything he had and he fell back against the pillow.

The nurse made another note on the chart, then took a syringe from the tray she’d brought in and put it into the injection port attached to Harm’s IV. Removing the empty syringe, she gave Mac a quick smile and slipped out of the cubicle, pulling the curtain back into place.

Harm watched her go, then turned slowly back to Mac. "What about the trial?" he asked weakly.

Mac frowned. "Don’t worry about that right now. I’m sure the judge understands. How do you feel?"

His eyes drifted shut again, but only for a moment. "Like I’ve been run over by a ten-ton truck."

Mac smiled. "I can imagine."

"What time is it?"

"Nineteen twenty-two," she answered automatically.

Harm stared at her, not quite comprehending at first. His expression slid into a frown. "I’ve been out for over six hours?"

She nodded. "It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Don’t try to talk, okay? Just work on getting your strength back."

He nodded weakly. "Hey, thanks for being here." He faltered suddenly, a pinched expression contorting his features. It came and went so quickly, Mac wasn’t even sure she’d really seen it. "You were a nice sight to...wake up...to...."

The words just faded out as his features went slack. The heart monitor sped up frantically, then thinned out. Terror seized Mac’s entire being as the monitor changed to a long, thin wail. Harm’s eyes were still open, but the light was gone. Fixed on her face, they stared, sightless and empty.

Activity suddenly exploded around Mac. The curtain flew back and two nurses charged in, behind them came another nurse, this one male, pushing a cartful of equipment. Right on his heels was the doctor.

Someone pushed her roughly aside and she stumbled back a few steps, watching in mute terror as they worked frantically over Harm. One of the nurses began CPR, while the other placed a mask over Harm’s face, forcing air into his lungs with the bag attached to the mask. Mac saw the male nurse flick on the equipment on the cart, preparing the two small paddles to electrically shock Harm’s heart – again.

The doctor waved him off for the moment, stabbing a syringe into the IV injection port. She turned to watch the monitors. "Stop CPR," she ordered.

The nurse who’d been doing the chest compressions stopped, poised with her hands still over his chest. The line on the monitor wavered, jumped, bottomed out and then jumped again. Slowly it settled into a fast but steady rhythm.

Her chest on fire from lack of oxygen, Mac let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her knees went weak and she stumbled into the chair someone had shoved out of the way. Mac felt like she was going to be sick as the horrible reality washed over her. She had been calmly listening to Harm, watching the glow of true affection in his eyes, when he simply...died. Right there in front of her.

His heart had stopped so many times today she’d lost count. How many more times would they be able to restart it? Would there be one more time, a time when they did all they could but it wasn’t enough?

"Damn it, why is this happening?" the doctor sputtered. She rattled off a series of tests she wanted performed and drugs she wanted administered, then finally turned to Mac. Her voice became gentle. "Come outside with me for a minute."

Mac followed her out of the cubicle and across the I.C.U. ward to the desk. The doctor put a hand on Mac’s shoulder. "He’s all right now," she said reassuringly, "but if we can’t track down what’s causing this...I’m sorry, but you need to be prepared." She let out a huge, frustrated sigh. "I’m so sorry, Colonel. This whole thing defies rational explanation."

"Maybe it defies medical explanation," Mac replied, resolve settling on her like warm cloak, "but there is an explanation. Have you checked his system for...well, for anything that doesn’t belong there?"

"Like what?" the doctor asked, frowning.

Mac threw up her hands. "Poisons, drugs, something that could have been slipped to him without anyone knowing about it."

"We’ve done a toxicological screening, but there are things that wouldn’t show up on a normal test."

"Then do a more extensive one," Mac ordered, not caring if it was inappropriate. "There is an answer here, doctor, and you have to find it!"

The doctor gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I’ll order the tox screen immediately. We’re doing everything we can. Just hang in there, and pray he does too."

Mac watched as the woman turned to go back to the cubicle. That sixth sense Mac had come to depend on vibrated through her. If the doctors couldn’t find some latent medical condition to explain Harm’s illness, that left only one explanation. Someone had done this to him.

A deep rage welled up within her. Someone was trying to take Harm out of the picture, and they were playing for keeps – but so was she. Sometime during the hours she sat by his bed, Mac had made a decision without even realizing it. If – when – Harm got through this, she was going to make sure he knew how she felt. Life was too precious, too uncertain, to wait for "later."

ADMIRAL CHEGWIDDEN’S HOME – 19:45 EST

The shrill ring of the telephone cut through the solitude of AJ’s living room. He jumped, staring at the phone, afraid to answer it and too worried not to. On the second ring, he grabbed it and punched the answer button. "Chegwidden."

"Admiral, it’s Col. MacKenzie."
She sounded tired, defeated. AJ forced down the wave of apprehension that threatened to swamp him. "Yes, Colonel?"

"It happened again, sir." AJ’s own heart stuttered, then gave a little kick. Before he could voice the words he couldn’t bear to speak, the colonel went on. "The doctor managed to stabilize him again, but she’s worried about how much more his system can take...and I am too. Sir, I was there when it happened. He was alert and talking to me one minute and the next he was just...gone. I’m...surprised they were able to bring him back from that."

AJ pushed to his feet. "I’m on my way down."

There was a long pause, then her voice came across the line, sounding smaller than he’d ever heard it. "Thank you, Admiral. I could use the company."

AJ grabbed his keys and a jacket and was out the door in under a minute.

He strode into the ICU ward a short time later. Col. MacKenzie was again sitting beside the commander’s bed. He didn’t look much different from the last time AJ had seen him, but Mac said he’d been awake and talking to her when the most recent crisis occurred. Mac sat, holding Harm’s hand with a desperation that went far beyond that of a friend or a colleague. When she looked up and saw him standing there, she leapt to her feet, smoothing her hands over a hopelessly wrinkled uniform skirt.

He waved her to at ease and took a step further into the cubicle. "Relax, Colonel." Somehow, his usual "as-you-were" didn’t seem appropriate. She looked almost guilty, like a teenage girl caught holding hands with a boy on the school bus. "How is he?"

"The same," she said with a sigh.

AJ very gently took her arm and led her out of the cubicle where they could talk without whispering. "Just as importantly, how are you doing?"

She looked startled. "Me? I’m fine, sir."

"Like hell," he said roughly, further shocking her and not caring. "Colonel, you’ve been here all day. I’m willing to be you haven’t even left long enough to eat. You need to go home and get some rest."

Her spine straightened in a way that was uniquely Mac. "With all due respect, sir, I need to stay here." He hesitated a fraction of a second, trying to decide whether to come down on her as a C.O. or as a friend. She went on before he could choose. "Admiral, the doctors have pretty much ruled out any preexisting medical condition that could have caused this. I’m beginning to suspect...outside forces."

He stared at her. "You mean foul play? Someone did this to him? How?"

"I don’t know. I don’t even know for certain that I’m right, but what other answer is there? The doctor said she would order a more detailed blood screening to look for any foreign substances, but sir, if someone did do this deliberately, they’re going to find out he...survived. They could try again."

"I’ll order him transferred to Bethesda. Security will be easier there. We can post guards."

"If – when – he’s strong enough for transfer, that’s a very good idea, but in the meantime, I’m not leaving, Admiral."

He saw the stubborn set to her chin, heard the conviction in her voice and knew nothing short of a direct order, and may not even that, would get her to leave. There was nothing to do but drop the issue. "First thing in the morning, I’ll have Commander Turner start looking into the possibility this was deliberate. Do you think is has anything to do with the current case?"

She shook her head. "I doubt it. Lt. Young is charged with drunk and disorderly, as the result of a bar fight. We’ve got a pretty good case, but even if he is found innocent, no one would be so upset they’d try to...remove...the defense attorney. It’s got to be something else."

"Whatever it is, we’ll find it," AJ told her. "Now, I’m going to go make a couple of calls. I’ll have a guard posted here till he’s strong enough to be moved."

His first call was to Turner, who offered to go into the office immediately and start the investigation. AJ assured him that tomorrow morning would be early enough. As soon as they hung up, he contacted hospital security and explained the need for a navy guard on the I.C.U. ward. It took some fancy talking, but they finally agreed.

As soon as the guard arrived, AJ posted him at the door leading into the ward with instructions to question anyone trying to enter without proper hospital ID. He then returned to Col. MacKenzie, who had again taken up her vigil at the commander’s side.

ICU WARD – 02:30 EST

Sitting quietly, his chin resting in his hand, AJ watched Col. MacKenzie dozing fitfully in her chair on the other side of the bed. Her head dropped slowly toward her chest, only to bounce back up. She finally pushed herself stiffly out of her chair, stretching her back. AJ rose and went around the bed.

"Colonel, there’s an armed guard on the door and I’m here. Why don’t you go home and get some proper rest?"

She gazed at him, her eyes filled with a silent plea and AJ suddenly kicked himself for pushing her so hard to leave. She clearly wanted – needed – to stay. He let out a breath. "All right. I tell you what. If we can find you a cot or something, will you at least agree to lie down for a couple of hours? I’ll wake you immediately if anything changes."

For a moment, he thought she was going to argue even this, but at last she nodded. "All right, sir, but only for a couple of hours."

AJ went to talk to the nurse. She was even more helpful than he’d hoped. She told him about a family room down the hall. He gratefully escorted the colonel to the small room with its two single cots pressed against opposite walls.

She settled down on one of the cots, but refused to even remove her shoes. He didn’t force the issue, but merely handed her a blanket. The empty cot on the other side of the room looked very inviting at the moment, but he knew she’d never stay if he tried to.

AJ spent the next hour and a half sitting beside Harm, watching him sleep. The hypnotic beeping of the heart monitor didn’t do much to help keep him alert, but AJ’s SEAL training kicked in almost unconsciously.

While part of him stayed alert, his mind drifted back to the guilty way the colonel had jumped up when he came in. He shook his head. He’d never figure these two out. It was obvious to everyone how they felt about each other – to everyone except them, apparently. He wondered if they’d ever talked about it, if denying their feelings was a conscious decision. He looked at Rabb, sleeping peacefully. "If it was," he whispered, "then you’re a damned fool – both of you."

Rising stiffly, AJ stretched his back muscles. He desperately needed a shot of caffeine. Maybe the cafeteria—

A groan from Commander Rabb interrupted his thoughts. He spun toward the bed. Harm tossed restlessly, mumbling incoherently. AJ moved to the side of the bed and placed a hand gently on the commander’s shoulder. The tossing subsided as he watched Harm struggle toward consciousness.

"Mac?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Not by a long shot," AJ said with a wry grin, "but I’ll have to do for now."

Harm finally managed to focus his gaze on AJ’s face. "Admiral? What... I was talking to Mac and then...."

"Take it easy, son. You’ve had a pretty rough go of it. Give yourself some time."

Harm nodded, still frowning in confusion. "What time is it?"

AJ glanced at his watch. "Oh-four-hundred."

Rabb groaned. "Did Mac finally go home?"

"I’m afraid it would have taken a pair of burly petty officers to get that done, Commander, and I didn’t happen to have any handy. She’s sleeping down the hall. I promised her I’d wake her if you came around. Shall I go get her, or do you want to try and explain to her later why I didn’t?"

Harm gave him a weak grin. "I’m always glad to...do your dirty work, sir...but there are limits."

AJ chuckled and headed down the hall.

Mac sat bolt upright the instant the admiral touched her shoulder. "Sir, what is it? Is he—"

"He’s awake," he said quickly, "and asking for you."

She rolled to her feet, smoothing a hand over her hair, and followed him back to the ward. Harm turned toward her the moment she stepped into the cubicle. He smiled weakly. "Hey, there."

"Hey, yourself," she replied, resisting the urge to reach for his hand. "You look better."

"I still feel like something the cat refused to drag in." He dragged one hand down his face. "What the hell is going on? Mac, you said something about my heart?"

"That’s right, but the doctors can’t find anything physically wrong with you." She paused, taking a deep breath. "Harm, we think someone might have slipped you something to cause this. Do you remember eating or drinking anything different lately?"

He closed his eyes, struggling to concentrate. After a moment, he shook his head. "No, nothing. When all this started I...I felt sick to my stomach. I blamed it on some yogurt, but that came from my own fridge."

"Did Graham’s sister offer you anything?" the admiral asked.

"She did, but I declined." His eyes drifted closed for a moment.

Mac saw his fatigue and instantly dropped the questioning. "Get some rest now, Harm. Don’t worry about figuring it out right now. We’ll talk more when you’re stronger."

For once, he didn’t argue with her. That in itself worried her. Harm hated giving in to any kind of weakness.

ICU WARD – 06:00 EST

Mac and the admiral had been kicked out of the cubicle while the doctor examined Harm. Mac paced the floor near the desk, praying for good news. When the doctor finally emerged, she was smiling brightly and Mac’s heart lifted a little. She handed Harm’s chart off to the petite nurse Mac remembered from earlier and approached them.

"He’s doing much better," Dr. Westin announced. "His heart rhythm is much more stable now. At this point, I’m cautiously optimistic. If he doesn’t have any more episodes, he should recover fully."

Relief flooded through Mac, threatening to take her legs out from under her. She forced herself to straighten up.

"Is he strong enough to be transferred?" the admiral asked. "I’d like him moved to Bethesda for security reasons."

A loud clatter interrupted the doctor’s reply. Nerves still on edge, everyone jumped, spinning toward the sound. Flushed red with embarrassment, the young nurse knelt to retrieve the chart she had dropped. Dr. Westin gave her a quick smile before turning back to the admiral. "I understand your concerns, but no, I wouldn’t support moving him just yet. If his condition continues to improve, we can discuss it again."

"Then I have to insist on keeping the guard in place."

The doctor nodded. "All right, just keep him out of the way. I don’t want him questioning every member of the hospital staff who comes in here."

"Understood."

By 08:00 Harm had improved even more. He was sleeping peacefully and even his color looked better. Mac finally agreed to go home. Despite being dead on her feet, she grabbed a quick shower before climbing into bed. Too tired to trust her internal clock, she set an alarm for three hours later and burrowed down under the covers. She was asleep in seconds.

At the same moment Mac was drifting off to sleep, Harm was waking up. He still felt rough as hell, but not quite as bad as last night. He glanced over his shoulder at the heart monitor. It looked okay to him, but what did he know?

A pair of soft female voices approached, becoming steadily louder. One of them sounded familiar. It sounded just like—

The curtain drew back and his mother came in, moving quickly to his side. "Hello, honey." She bent and kissed his forehead before taking his hand. "How are you?"

"I don’t know," he admitted honestly, "but, Mom, you didn’t have to come all the way out here."

"I most certainly did," she countered. "The doctor here tells me you were very sick for a while there."

"He was," the doctor confirmed, "but he’s doing a lot better now. If you’ll excuse me." Giving his mother a smile, the doctor went out and pulled the curtain shut.

"Really, Mom, I’m sorry to drag you all the way out here for nothing."

She frowned at him. "An unexplained heart attack is not exactly nothing! I wasn’t able to talk to the doctor for long. Do they have any idea yet what might have caused this?"

Harm wasn’t about to worry her further with Mac’s speculation, so he shook his head. "Not yet."

"Well, I’m just glad you’re doing better."

He dug up a grin for her. "I’m okay. Really."

With a rattle that was becoming annoyingly familiar, the curtain drew back to admit the same short, brown-haired nurse he’d seen earlier. As groggy as he’d been, she’d seemed familiar somehow, and the feeling was even stronger now, but he still couldn’t place her.

She smiled shyly at him and hurried through checking his pulse and respiration. She recorded the information on his chart then set it aside. With the pea-soup fog in his brain, Harm didn’t have a prayer of figuring out where he might have seen her before, so he turned back to his mom. "So how long are you planning to stay?"

"As long as I need to. Frank wanted to come too, but I convinced him that too many bodies crowded into a hospital room isn’t a good idea. He sends his love."

Harm nodded, struggling to stay awake. His mother must have seen his fatigue. She got quickly to her feet. "I’m going to go for now, Harm. You need to rest. I’ll come back after I get settled in my hotel."

"You don’t have to stay in a hotel, Mom. Use my place. Talk to Col. MacKenzie. She can let you in."

His mother’s eyebrows climbed toward her hairline. "She has a key to your place? Are you two finally—"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harm saw the young nurse collect her equipment and quietly slip out, but ignored the distraction. "She knows where I keep my spare key, Mom, and that’s all!"

She shook her head, muttering softly, "I never thought a son of mine could be so dense." She smiled then and gave him a quick kiss. "Get some rest. I’ll be back later."

MAC’S APARTMENT – 12:00 EST

Mac awoke one minute before her alarm was set to go off. Three hours sleep wasn’t nearly enough, but it would have to do. Pulling on a robe, she immediately called the hospital. The nurse told her Harm was sleeping.

Although she really wanted to go back to the hospital, Mac changed into a clean uniform and went to work instead. She fielded several enquiries about Harm’s condition before she finally made it to her desk. She was dismayed to see the amount of work that had piled up in such a short time.

They had been granted a continuance on Lt. Young’s case, but only until tomorrow. She needed Harm’s notes on the interview with Graham’s sister. Someone had been kind enough to gather up the files from the courtroom and put them all on the corner of her desk. It only took a moment to find the right file, filled with notes written in Harm’s strong, flowing hand.

She was engrossed in the file when her phone rang. Instantly, her mind returned to Harm and she prayed it wasn’t the hospital calling. She grabbed the phone. "Lt. Col. MacKenzie."

"You’re going to know what it’s like, Colonel Miss Stuck-up."

Shocked, Mac was slow to respond. "Who is this?"

"You think you’re so smart, but you’re not," continued the female voice. "You can feel it, can’t you? Your man is slipping away from you and there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re worried that he could be dead at any minute, aren’t you? Now you know how I felt."

Horror slammed through Mac as a sudden realization drove the air from her lungs. The woman on the other end of the line was the one trying to kill Harm – and she was doing it as some kind of sick attempt at revenge against Mac herself.

Calling on every scrap of Marine training she had, Mac shoved aside the fear and guilt that were threatening to smother her. "Who is this?" she demanded.

Laughter drifted across the phone line. "Poor Colonel Miss Stuck-up. I’m not going to make it easier for you."

Swinging around the desk, Mac stretched the phone cord as far as she could. She almost pulled the phone off the desk as she reached toward the door. She just barely managed to reach the door frame and bang on it. Harriet Simms looked up from her desk.

Mac mouthed the words, "trace this call!"

Harriet, bless her, understood instantly and grabbed her own telephone.

A second later, Mac heard the phone line go dead. She stared at it for a moment, still shocked by what she’d heard. Harriet appeared in the doorway. "Sorry, ma’am. There wasn’t time for a trace. What was the call about?"

Too disturbed to even answer, Mac rounded the desk, slammed her finger on the button for line two. She dialed quickly, her heart pounding. Her knees almost gave out when the ICU nurse passed her on to Dr. Westin. "I’m afraid Cmdr. Rabb has taken a turn for the worse. His heart has become unstable again. He hasn’t actually arrested, but he’s come close. We’re treating the symptoms, but we still can’t find a cause."

Mac charged into the I.C.U. ward a short time later. Admiral Chegwidden was in the corner, talking quietly with an older woman. The woman glanced up as Mac approached and she knew instantly it had to be Harm’s mother.

Her suspicions were confirmed when the admiral introduced her. Mac took the time to find a smile for her. "I’m glad to finally meet you."

"Me, too. I just wish the circumstances were better."

"So do I. I’m sorry, but I need to speak to the admiral for a moment."

"Oh, of course." Trish moved away, going to Harm’s cubicle.

Mac turned to her C.O. "Sir, I just got a phone call at the office. It was a woman and she claimed to...she said..." She let out a huge breath, trying to get the words out past a fresh wave of guilt. "Sir, she asked me how I felt, knowing ‘my man’ was slipping away from me." She glanced involuntarily at the cubicle where Harm was fighting for his life. "I think she’s the one who did this to him."

The admiral was instantly on alert. "Did she say how she’s doing it?"

"No sir, just that now I’d know how she felt. Whoever she is, she’s doing this as revenge against me!"

He gripped her arm firmly. "Don’t go blaming yourself for this, Colonel. The woman is obviously sick, but she’s dangerous, too. Cmdr. Rabb suddenly got worse again just a few minutes ago. It’s possible this woman might have gained access to him."

"Past the guard, and you, sir?"

"It looks that way. I’m going to suggest Harm’s mother go down to the cafeteria for a coffee. I don’t want to alarm her further. I’ll walk her down after I talk to the guard and make sure no one, and I mean no one gets in here till we get this thing figured out. You stay with Harm."

She crossed to the cubicle and stepped inside. The admiral came in a moment later. He was his usual charming self, suggesting Trish might like to join him for coffee. She agreed and as he held the curtain aside for her, the admiral glanced back, meeting Mac’s gaze with a worried look. She nodded slightly. As long as she was here, nothing was going to happen to Harm.

As the curtain dropped back into place, Mac turned toward Harm. He was moving restlessly, not quite conscious, but not fully out either. She stepped closer and gripped his hand. "Harm, it’s Mac. I’m here."

With a metallic grating sound that tore through Mac like a knife, the curtain slid open and shut so fast she barely had time to turn before the same petite nurse she’d seen earlier was standing beside the IV stand on the far side of the bed. She spared Mac only a quick glance, but the look in the woman’s eyes was pure contempt. She reached up, ready to insert a needle into the injection port.

"Stop!" Mac ordered.

Before Mac could get around the bed, the nurse had stabbed the needle into the port, but instead of depressing the plunger, she turned to Mac. "It’s time, Colonel. Time to watch him die!"

"Wait!" Mac cried. "Please, at least tell me who you are!"

The woman’s expression darkened even further. "That’s so typical. You destroyed my life and you don’t even remember me! My name is Yvonne Bennett. My husband is – was – Ensign Paul Bennett."

It took Mac only a second to place the name. "I prosecuted him for drug trafficking last year."

"That’s right. Thanks to you, he got sent to Leavenworth. Paul was a good man, but he didn’t have a lot of guts. That place scared him. He was certain they were going to kill him. I watched him slowly slip away from me until he just couldn’t stand it anymore. The guards found him dead in his cell three months ago. They say he killed himself, but I know the truth. You did this! You took him from me!"

"I’m not responsible for his death! He was convicted of a crime and sent to jail."

"You’re the one who put him there! You stuck him in that awful place. I had to sit by and watch him slip away from me as that horrible place wrecked his mind!"

Harm shifted slightly and Mac realized he was awake.

"Mac, what’s going on?" he asked hoarsely.

"Stay very still, Harm. Whatever’s in that syringe is what’s been making your heart unstable. She’s trying to kill you." Mac could barely get the words out.

Very slowly, his gaze turned to the petite woman who held his life in her hands. "I...I remember you. I...ran into you in the hall."

"Wrong, lover boy! I ran into you. It was the easiest way to get the first dose into you, and you didn’t even know it! So much for smart lawyers."

"Who...are you?" he asked.

"Harm, this is Yvonne Bennett, wife of Ensign Paul Bennett. He was convicted of drug trafficking last year. I just found out he killed himself in Leavenworth. Mrs. Bennett is looking for revenge."

Harm frowned and Mac could see him struggling to concentrate. "But you prosecuted that case, not me."

Mac swallowed hard. "I know."

Yvonne shook the IV tube, threatening again to depress the plunger on the syringe. "She took him from me, just like I’m going to take you away from her!"

Mac could see Harm’s confusion. He turned to her. "But why would she—"

"She thinks we’re...involved."

"What kind of game are you two trying to play?" Yvonne cried. "You can’t protect him by pretending you aren’t involved. I know what I saw!"

"What?" Mac demanded. "What did you see?"

"I saw the two of you together. During Paul’s trial. I was there every day and I saw it! Every time he walked into the room, it was like no one else existed for you. It was like that for me and Paul. That’s how I know!"

Mac was astonished at Yvonne’s observation. Her description of the way Mac felt was so accurate it was frightening, and she wanted Harm to know it, but she wanted to tell him in her own way and her own time. She didn’t want him to find out like this, with the truth forced from her like some kind of coerced confession.

"You can’t fool me. I saw the way you looked at him then, and I saw how you wouldn’t leave here. That’s the thing about patients and visitors. They ignore hospital staff. They treat you like part of the furniture. I came in here and injected him right under your nose and you didn’t even notice!"

"Mrs. Bennett, think about it," Mac implored. "You can’t get away with this. You’ll never get out of the hospital, and even if you did, I know who you are. I’ll find you."

"I don’t care about what happens to me. I’m going to finish this, and you can’t stop me. You had me a little worried with all this talk of moving him to another hospital, so I had to change my plans a bit. I wanted to make you suffer longer, like I did, but this will have to do. Say goodbye to your lover, Colonel Miss Stuck-up. There’s enough in this syringe to drop a bull elephant. He’ll be dead in seconds!"

She spun toward the IV stand. In the same instant, Mac lunged for her, but she was too far away. Even as she flew forward, she saw Yvonne jab the plunger with her thumb, emptying the syringe into the injection port.

With a cry of combined rage and anguish, Mac slammed into the smaller woman, her momentum carrying them both through the curtain. They crashed to the floor several feet outside the cubicle.

She was too late! That one terrifying thought blocked all others in Mac’s mind. She was too late, and Harm was going to die!

She was only dimly aware of it when the guard waded in and pulled Yvonne Bennett away. Scrambling to her feet, Mac dived back through the curtain. "Harm! No, please! Harm!" She clutched at him, grabbing his hand in what some part of her knew was a futile attempt to get the IV out before the drug could do its damage.

It wasn’t there.

Terrified, confused and shaking with grief, it took Mac a moment to find the IV needle. She finally realized it was clasped loosely in Harm’s right hand. He’d managed to pull it free himself, but when? How much of the drug had gotten into his system?

She desperately searched his face. "Are you all right? Did any of it get through?"

He shook his head, still weak. "No, I...I got it out before she injected it. I’m fine."

She couldn’t help it. She broke down and sobbed.

Harm managed to catch her hand and draw her closer. He gently stroked her hair. "Hey, it’s okay," he whispered urgently. "Mac, I’m all right. Everything’s going to be all right now."

Mac could hear the admiral’s thundering voice, demanding to know what was going on. A second later, the curtain flew aside and what seemed like half the population of Washington charged into the cubicle. Dr. Westin pushed past to examine Harm as the admiral took Mac’s shoulders and gently forced her to move back.

Calling on a strength Mac hadn’t realized she possessed, she managed to force down the sobs. Swallowing hard, she straightened up and faced her C.O.

Admiral Chegwidden gazed at her for a long time. "It’s over," he said softly.

Mac nodded, suddenly numb. It was over, Harm was safe, and Mac couldn’t seem to feel a thing.

PRIVATE HOSPITAL ROOM – 15:45 Two days later

Trish Burnett sat at her son’s bedside, chatting quietly with him and silently giving thanks. He was again the man she knew him to be. His eyes were clear and bright, so much like his father’s. That’s what had bothered her the most when she first arrived at the hospital three days ago. There was no light in his eyes. Now it was back and she could finally believe he was going to be all right.

She’d come very close to losing him and, although it wasn’t the first time, it made her realize that there were some things that needed to be said.

"You know, for a lot of people, coming this close to death would leave a lasting impression. Are you sure you’re okay? And I don’t mean physically."

His smile turned tender. "I’m fine, Mom."

"Uh-huh," she replied, unconvinced.

His smile turned a little thin. "I guess you’re right, though. I have been doing some thinking the last couple of days...about Dad. Thanks to you, and other people who knew him, I’ve always known what kind of man he was, but sometimes I wonder if...." His voice trailed off uncertainly.

"If what?" she prompted gently.

His gaze fell to his lap, his voice dropping in pitch and volume. "If I’m the kind of man he wanted me to be."

Trish smiled gently. "Harm, you are exactly the man your father would have wanted you to be. You’re brave, successful, principled and honorable, just like he was. There’s only one thing he would have wished for you that you haven’t achieved yet."

Harm looked shocked, even a little stricken. Trish chuckled and put a hand on his arm. "Happiness, son. I’m talking about happiness."

"I am happy," he protested. "I’ve got a job that allows me to make a difference, I’ve got good friends, and...and..."

Trish shook her head. "And what? There’s more to life than a good job and good friends. What about the love of a good woman?"

He looked away abruptly.

"Honey, the one thing I swore I’d never be is an interfering mother, but I’m going to tell you something. You’ve been given a second chance here."

The door swung open suddenly and Col. MacKenzie stepped in. Trish looked at her, then back to her son. "Don’t let it pass you by, okay?"

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and slid off the bed. "I was just leaving, Colonel. Maybe we’ll have a chance to talk later."

"I’d like that," she replied with a smile.

As Trish went out, she risked a quick look back. The two of them were looking at each other in a way that was achingly familiar. She’d looked at a man like that once a long time ago.

As Harm’s mother made a discrete exit, Mac moved to stand beside the bed. Harm looked up at her, smiling. "Hi there!"

"Hi yourself," she replied. "How you doin’?"

"Better every day. They say I should be out of here by the end of the week."

"That’s great! If you don’t get back to work pretty soon, I’m going to be completely swamped."

He was still smiling at her, but somehow his expression changed subtly. That familiar but indescribable connection between them suddenly blazed in his eyes. "Come here," he said softly.

As though drawn by an invisible thread, Mac moved closer, lifting her hip to sit on the edge of the bed. This time, it was Harm who reached for her hand. "I haven’t had a chance to thank you."

"What for?" she asked quickly. "If it wasn’t for me, none of this would have happened."

"This was not your fault," he insisted, "and you did your damnedest to save my life up there."

Mac wasn’t sure what to say. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but he was in a strange mood, one she hadn’t seen often and didn’t know how to handle.

"I want to ask you something about what Yvonne Bennett said."

Mac swallowed against the urge to quickly change the subject. Old habits died hard. "Okay."

"Why do you think she thought we were involved?" He paused, as though gathering his courage. "What was it she said about the way you looked at me?"

Oh, Lord! She hadn’t planned on him being the one to open this particular can of worms. That was supposed to be her job today. But he’d left her the perfect opening. Very deliberately she took his hand in hers.

"She said that when you walk into the room, it’s as though no one else exists for me – and she’s right. Harm, I love you."

A long silence stretched out, expanding to fill the room. Mac realized she was literally holding her breath, waiting for his reaction. As he continued to gaze at her, his expression unreadable, insecurity welled up from deep within her. Why didn’t he say something?

At last, his expression began to change. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His voice was soft and filled with tenderness. "That is one hell of a relief, Marine, ‘cause I’ve been crazy about you for years."

It was Mac’s turn to stare. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that. She finally found enough air to whisper, "Why didn’t you say something?"

"Why didn’t you?"

She chuckled softly. "Point taken." She paused again, immersing herself in the deep sense of awareness that arced between them. "So, now that we’ve both said something, what do we do about it?"

"Nothing—for now, but when I get out of here...." He cupped his hand around the back of her head and drew her down to whisper in her ear.

By the time he was done telling her what he had in mind, her heart was racing so fast she was worried she might go into cardiac arrest. He slowly drew back enough to look at her. His eyes glowed with an intense spark of desire.

Mac didn’t have a clue what to say, but it didn’t matter because he didn’t give her the chance. His lips found hers, igniting a fire inside that burned away the pain of the past few days. The world narrowed until the only thing that existed was the only thing that really mattered. Their love.

The End.