A JAG Fan-fiction Story © 2004 Sheri Mitchell
	A narrow winding road, a careless oncoming driver, and Harm and Mac's worlds change forever.
	Updates:  Jan. 14 Jan. 15 Jan. 16 Jan. 17 Jan. 19
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NAVY AMPHIBIOUS BASE, LITTLE CREEK, VA – 16:45 EST

"I still say you’re wrong." Arms folded across her chest, Mac glared at Harm. Her eyes flashing, chin jutted out in defiance, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Distracted by that thought, he was slow to respond and she charged on. "There’s no evidence of wrong-doing here, other than maybe a little poor judgment."

"A little?" he echoed. "At the very least, Lt. Leeds got behind the wheel of that Hum-v when he was too tired to function properly, but I still think he and the rest of his team are hiding something."

"There’s nothing to prove that," she insisted, "and nobody was hurt."

"It was a Hum-v, Mac. They’re designed to take that kind of punishment. If he’d hit that tree with a civilian vehicle, we might be investigating the deaths of four Navy officers, not just damage to equipment."

She opened her mouth to argue further, then snapped it shut. Harm knew he’d made his point. There was no need to belabor it. "Come on, let’s head back. We’ll forward our findings to the base commander and he can decide what he wants to do."

Popping open the back door of the Navy issue vehicle, he tossed his briefcase on the seat and threw his overcoat on top. Mac added her briefcase to the pile and they climbed into the front seat. She glanced at him as she put on her seatbelt. "The scenery up here is incredible. It should be a nice trip home."

"At least till it gets dark," he commented, "and that won’t be long."

"Well, I intend to enjoy it as long as I can."

Secretly, Harm was looking forward to the drive back as well, but his anticipation had little to do with the scenery. He was far more interested in the company. He and Mac were slowly rebuilding a friendship that had been sorely tested lately. It wasn’t easy but he was determined to make it work, and from all appearances, so was Mac. Some uninterrupted time alone was just what they needed. On a long drive in the dark, there won’t be anything to get in the way of some good conversation.

"What time do you think we’ll get back? I was supposed to have dinner with Clay."

Except that. Why did she have to keep bringing up Webb’s name? She had to know how he felt about her relationship with the CIA spook. Yeah? shot back a little voice inside him. And just how do you figure that? It’s not like you’ve had the guts to come right out and say something.

What am I supposed to say, ‘Gee, Mac, I—’

"Harm? Earth to Cdr. Rabb. Come in, Commander."

Her teasing sarcasm yanked him out of the argument he was having with himself – and argument he’d had many times. "Sorry, just…thinking."

"About what?"

Here’s your chance! Go for it!

"Nothing," he replied, hating himself. "Nothing important."

They rode in silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t really an uncomfortable silence, but to Harm, it seemed the air in the car was charged with a current of anticipation. He was so acutely aware of it, he actually jumped when she spoke.

"You’re awfully quiet. Are you…mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?" he replied quickly, maybe a little too quickly.

"For disagreeing with you about Lt. Leeds. I think his unit commanders need to rethink their training schedule if they’re pushing the men so hard they’re too exhausted to drive safely. I don’t see this as being Leeds’ fault."

"And you could be right," he conceded, "but I still think there’s more to this than we’re seeing. I got the feeling Leeds’ team members are hiding something. You remember one of them commenting that Leeds was pretty good at tossing back the booze?"

"Yes, I do remember that, but I don’t buy him being drunk on the job," she replied.

"Why not?" he countered, glancing at her for as long as the narrow mountain road would let him.

She shrugged. "He just doesn’t seem the type."

"And what makes you so sure you’d recognize ‘the type’? Just because you had your own problems and overcame them doesn’t mean you’d instantly see it in someone else."

"Actually, it usually does," she countered. "You wouldn’t understand, Harm."

"Then explain it to me!" He hadn’t meant to bark the words, but he really was trying to understand her point of view and she wasn’t making it any easier.

"Just forget it," she shot back. "I can’t explain my gut feelings any more than you can explain yours. Let’s just drop it. We’ll both file our reports and the base commander can take it from there."

"No, I’d rather not drop it," he insisted, glancing at her again. "If I’m wrong about this, I need to—"

Several things happened all at once. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw oncoming headlights appear suddenly from around a corner and yanked his gaze back to the road. Instantly, he knew something was wrong. The lights were directly in front of him. His fighter pilot reflexes kicked in and he was already reacting when Mac let out a hoarse shout. His sharp instincts also told him his reaction wasn’t going to be enough.

The car didn’t respond like a Tomcat. Instead of gracefully sliding away to the right, it careened away, coming dangerously close to the steep drop at the edge of the road. He spun the wheel to the left, correcting, but all that did was bounce them off the side of the oncoming car. He struggled with the wheel for a few seconds, but couldn’t get control. His gut clenched as they shot toward the edge of the road. They were going over and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

"Hang on!" he shouted, making one last ditch attempt to keep them on the road. It didn’t work.

He felt the right side tires catch the gravel and then they were spinning through the air. He slammed against the door post, then bounced off, banging into Mac. After that, things happened too fast to register. He was aware only of being thrown around inside the car, the screech of rending metal filling his ears. He had no idea which way was up or down, or even how long the nightmare ride lasted. With a horrendous crunch, the car finally came to a stop. His body took slightly longer to react and he slammed hard into something in front of him, then bounced back with equal force. He had one desperate, fleeting thought for Mac, praying she was okay, then everything went black.

Struggling up through the fog in his mind, Harm finally managed to peel his eyes open, but he couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. The roof of the car was only a couple of feet from his face. He was staring up at it and that didn’t make any sense at all. For long moments, he tried to figure out where he was. He remembering being at the base with Mac, but beyond that…. In a rush, it all came flooding back: arguing with her on the drive down the winding mountain road, the glare of headlights in his eyes, her sudden shout and the battle to keep the car on the road – a battle he’d lost.

He tried to move, but something held him pinned, something soft and warm. Mac!

She was draped face down across his chest, her face out of sight somewhere beyond his left shoulder. She was sandwiched between him and a large mass of twisted wreckage. It took him a moment to figure out it was the dashboard. His left arm was trapped beneath her and the dash kept him from reaching her with his right. He could touch her back, but that was all.

"Mac? Mac, wake up."

There was no response. Fear washed through him and he gave her an awkward shake.

"Mac, please wake up. Come on, Marine, snap out of it!"

This time, she groaned softly and moved a little. It was still awkward, but he managed to shake her again. At long last, she lifted her head and relief washed through him – until he got a look at her face. It was smeared with blood. Frantically, he searched her face until he realized the blood came from a relatively minor cut on her forehead. He dismissed it for the time being. What worried him far more was the dull, unfocused look in her eyes.

He watched her gaze dart over his face, then around the wrecked interior of the car before finally returning to him. She lifted a shaky hand and touched a spot on his cheek. The moment she did, he realized it hurt like hell.

"You’re…hurt," she said hoarsely, her voice and her touch still tentative and filled with confusion.

"Don’t worry about that right now," he replied as gently as he could. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Her frown darkened even further. "Me…? I…?"

He knew the instant his Mac returned, replacing the hesitant, confused woman of a moment ago. Recognition and understanding radiating from her wide, round eyes, she stared at him for a brief second, then scanned the car’s interior. He also knew when she became aware of the destroyed dashboard holding her down. She craned her neck to look up at it, then planted her hands on what was left of his seat and shoved. The wreckage above her didn’t budge, but she did manage to lift herself high enough for him to free his left arm.

She pushed again, harder this time, and he saw her face turn red with the effort. "Mac, don’t, you’ll only hurt yourself. Who knows how many times the car rolled. The roof is caved in completely. You won’t be able to move it."

With a frustrated sigh, she gave up, relaxing against him. After a moment, she lifted her head, but he could tell the strain of holding herself up like that was too much to bear for long. Stretching his left arm out underneath her, he groped until he could anchor his fingers on the wrecked dashboard, effectively forming a sling under her shoulders. She sagged into it, but her expression was filled with guilt.

"That can’t be comfortable for you," she said quietly.

He couldn’t help chuckling. "I don’t think either of us is going to be very comfortable for a while. I’ll let you know if the strain gets too be too much but for now, I’m fine, so relax."

Tentatively at first, she relaxed against his arm. He had to shift his grip to support her full weight, but once he did, it wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

"How do you feel?" he asked. "Do you hurt anywhere?"

She shook her head. "No. Believe it or not, I think I’m okay, just pinned. How about you? Can you even breathe down there?"

"Not too deeply, but yeah, I’m okay." In truth, his left leg hurt like hell, but he didn’t want to worry her. "I’ll be fine. I’m sure help’s already on the way."

She didn’t look convinced. "This is an isolated mountain road and we don’t know what happened to the other car. If it went over the edge too, it might be a while before anyone finds us. It’s already getting dark."

"Hey, let’s not borrow trouble, okay?" He used the pad of his thumb to wipe a smear of dirt from her cheek. "We’re going to get out of this, Mac."

Her expression softened and she nodded. Their eyes met and held for a long moment of searching. A familiar warmth spread through him, filling him with a tenderness more profound than he’d ever felt for any other human being. Lost in the rich depths of her eyes, he made a silent vow to do anything within his power to keep his promise to her. They would get out of this and in the meantime, he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.

Long minutes stretched into hours. They talked a bit, but Mac tried to keep it to a minimum. Pressed so tightly to Harm’s chest, she could feel every breath he took and knew it wasn’t as easy as he wanted her to think. If she relaxed against him, she could even feel his heartbeat and took at least some comfort in the strong, sure rhythm. She was worried about him, though. Beneath the dirt and grime adhering to his face, his complexion was pale and waxy.

Two hours and ten minutes after she woke up, he finally shifted the arm that had been supporting her. "Sorry, Mac, but my arm needs a rest. It’s gone to sleep on me."

She quickly lifted up off his arm and he let it drop. She held herself up as long as she could, but doing so stiffened the muscles in her back and the last thing she needed right now was a muscle spasm. Slowly relaxing, she tried to get comfortable, but it was almost impossible. With no support under her shoulders, her head ended up hanging down at an awkward angle.

"Hey," Harm said suddenly, "I wonder…."

Awkwardly reaching behind his head with his right hand, he fished around in the space that had once been the back seat. A look of triumph settled on his face as he dragged something forward. He pulled it across his chest until he could get a grip on it with his left hand and she realized it was his briefcase.

"Lift up," he told her. She did so and he positioned the briefcase beneath her. It didn’t prop her as high as his arm had, but it helped immensely. She didn’t even care that the handle was digging into her sternum.

"Thanks," she said softly.

"Is that okay?" he asked with a worried frown.

"It’s better than not having anything there." She shifted the tiny bit she was able to, trying to get a better look at him but the light was nearly gone and all she could see was shadows. "How you doing? Can you still breathe okay?"

"I’m fine." His hoarse voice, tinged with strain, belied his words. "Besides, it could be worse."

"How?" she asked quickly.

An unmistakable note of humor entered his voice. "You could be stuck under me."

"Good point," she returned with a smile. He muttered something else she didn’t quite catch. "What was that?"

There was a slight pause. "I said…it looks like this time, you get to be on top."

Mac froze, their conversation outside the hotel in Paraguay flooding back to her. Stunned, she did her best to stare at him, but now even the shadows were gone. She felt a strange, jerky movement beneath her and realized he was laughing.

Suddenly, she was laughing too. She couldn’t help it and ended up laughing until the strain became too much and she collapsed against him. The briefcase tottered but he steadied it, then wrapped his arms around her in an awkward but tight hug.

"Aw, Mac," he groaned. "What are we gonna do?"

She knew instinctively he wasn’t talking about their immediate problem. He was referring to the impossibly complicated tangle of their feelings for each other. If only she had an answer for him…but she didn’t. So much had passed between them over the years, some of it good, a lot of it bad, and all of it so emotionally charged neither of them knew how to deal with it.

At some point, Harm must have dozed off. He awoke abruptly, but couldn’t immediately determine what had yanked him out of the fitful sleep. A moment later, he realized what it was. Mac was shivering.

Rummaging around blindly above his head again, he managed to snag his overcoat and drag it forward. Mac jumped suddenly, disturbed by his movements.

"It’s okay," he said softly. Working by touch alone, he stuffed the coat in around her legs as best he could. "Lift up again, just for a second."

She did as he asked and he slipped a hand between them, quickly unbuttoning his uniform jacket. He couldn’t quite reach the bottom button, so he gave the material a yank, ripping the button off. Pulling both sides of the jacket free from beneath her, he did his best to wrap it around her. Most of her back was blocked by the ruined dashboard, but he covered her everywhere he could.

"Is that any better?" he asked.

"Much," she admitted, "but you didn’t have to go to all that trouble."

"Trust me, I’m cold too. Anything we can do to help share body heat is going to help us both." It wasn’t exactly a lie, but his own comfort wasn’t a big part of his motivation. He just couldn’t stand the thought of her being so cold she would tremble violently enough to wake him up.

"I guess you’re right," she conceded, "but thanks, I am warmer now. Did I wake you?"

"Sort of. What time is it?"

"Zero-two twenty," she replied immediately.

"Man, I wish I could do that," he blurted. "I can’t imagine what it would be like always knowing exactly what time it is."

"And I can’t imagine what it would be like not to," she countered.

"Well, set that internal alarm clock of yours for about zero-five-hundred. It should be light out by then and hopefully someone will be looking for us. We don’t want to risk missing a…" His voice trailed off as the level of his own stupidity washed over him. "I’m an idiot!"

Too annoyed with himself to communicate effectively, he used one hand to lift her out of the way and dug in his inside jacket pocket with the other. His fingers closed over his cell phone and he pulled it out, automatically stabbing the power button with his thumb. Nothing happened.

"Damn!"

"What? Harm, what’s going on. What are you doing?"

He remembered abruptly that she couldn’t see what he was trying to do. "My cell phone was in my coat pocket, but the battery’s dead. I knew it was getting low and had planned to plug it in when we got in the car."

"Well, it wouldn’t have mattered. If you had, it would be somewhere around my left ankle at the moment and probably shattered into a million pieces. I thought about mine earlier, but it’s in my right hand pocket and I can’t get anywhere near it."

"Then I guess we’re right back where we started" he concluded sadly. "I guess you’d better set that alarm after all."

"Consider it done," she replied gently.

"Then we might as well try to get some more sleep." In a vain attempt to get a bit more comfortable, he tried again to shift his weight a little to the left and that’s when he realized his leg wasn’t hurting anymore. In fact, it was so numb he couldn’t feel it at all. Alarmed, he tried to move his toes but got no feedback at all. He honestly couldn’t tell if his toes were moving or not.

Since there was little point in both of them being freaked out by the implications of that, he kept his mouth shut. Mac shifted the tiny bit that she was able and settled down against him once more. "Night, Harm."

He pulled her a little closer, just because he could. "Night, Mac."

Dragging himself out of a sound sleep, Bud Roberts rolled over and groped for the ringing telephone on his night table. It wasn’t there. Forcing his mind to function, he sat up and followed the sound. The cordless phone was on Harriett’s table on the other side of the bed. While Bud was trying to decide if he should crawl over her or get up and hop around to her side, Harriett’s hand shot out, grabbed the phone and tossed it in his direction – all without lifting her head.

Bud caught the phone, but managed to hit the answer button in the process. Fumbling with the phone, he finally got it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Lieutenant, sorry to wake you, but you’re needed at Little Creek." The admiral’s gruff tone sank in instantly and Bud’s grogginess fled.

"Yes sir. Where should I meet Cdr. Rabb and Col. MacKenzie?"

"You won’t be. In fact, if anyone could find them, you wouldn’t be needed at all."

Bud frowned. Maybe he was sleepier than he thought. "I don’t understand, sir."

"Col. MacKenzie and Cdr. Rabb left the base after concluding their investigation into the Hum-v accident. The officer they were investigating has been charged in an unrelated incident and is requesting council. I’ve tried to reach Rabb and MacKenzie, but no one can find them, so you’re it."

"Yes sir. I’ll leave as soon as possible." Hanging up the phone, he dropped it in his lap. He could tell by the tension in the admiral’s voice that he was worried about not being able to reach the commander and the colonel. With a shake of his head, Bud dismissed the problem, at least for the time being. Leaning down, he planted a quick, gentle kiss on Harriett’s cheek. "Sorry, sweetie, I have to go to work."

"I figured as much," she replied sleepily.

"I’ll call you later."

She made an incoherent grunt and pulled the covers a little higher. Smiling, Bud hauled himself out of bed. It had taken him almost two years to convince her she didn’t have to get up with him on the rare occasions when he was called out in the middle of the night.

By the time Bud arrived at the Little Creek base, the sun was beginning to peek over the mountains. He was immediately shown to the base commander’s office where Lt. Brian Leeds sat under the watchful eye of an armed guard. The base commander, Col. Bradley, filled Bud in on the circumstances. "He nearly killed two men at the front gate – came back from town so drunk he forgot to stop at the guard shack."

Bud glanced over his shoulder at the nervous marine lieutenant, but his words were for the colonel. "Sir, do you have a copy of Cdr. Rabb and Col. MacKenzie’s findings in the earlier investigation?"

"No, they were supposed to forward it to me. Why, hasn’t anyone been able to locate them yet?"

"No, sir, not as far as I know."

"That’s damned strange. Conduct your interview, Lieutenant. I’m going to contact Admiral Chegwidden and see if he’s heard anything."

Bud nodded. "Yes sir. If there has been any word, I’d appreciate knowing."

The colonel’s craggy features softened a bit. "Roger that."

Forcing his mind back to the task at hand, Bud crossed the room and sat down with Lt. Leeds. "I’m Lt. Roberts, JAG Corps. Tell me what happened."

"I’m not going to lie to you, sir," Leeds began. "I did have a few drinks in town yesterday. I was still on leave because of the incident with the Hum-v so when Col. MacKenzie said they were finished with me yesterday morning, I headed into town to unwind for a bit."

"What time was that?" Bud asked, making notes.

"I left about ten-hundred."

Bud consulted the report he’d been given when he arrived. "According to the incident report, you arrived back at the base at eighteen-hundred and attempted to drive through the gate without stopping."

"It was my brakes, sir. They…they failed." Bud heard the note of desperation in the man’s voice. He sounded an awful lot like someone grasping for straws. He consulted the report once more.

"It says here the base infirmary tested a blood sample and found a blood alcohol level nearly twice the legal limit, Lieutenant. Mechanical failure might be a mitigating factor, but it’s not going to save you completely."

Leeds hung his head. Bud waited, hoping the Marine would have something more to add, but he didn’t. Letting out a slow breath, Bud sat back in his chair. There would be no miracles here. The lieutenant’s career was over. All Bud could do was try to keep him out of Leavenworth.

Leeds was returned to his quarters under guard and Bud went in search of the two Marines on duty at the guard shack last night. He found one of them in the infirmary, recovering from the injuries he received when he was hit with debris from the shattered barrier. The young man was more than willing to share his side of the story.

"The car came flying up the road like a rocket, sir. At that speed, there was no way he could stop in time. He didn’t even try."

Bud latched onto that. "He didn’t step on the brakes?"

"No sir, at least not until after he hit the barrier. We tried to flag him down and make him stop, but when I realized he was going to go right through, I jumped out of the way. A piece of the barrier hit me in the back of the head." He touched a spot on his head and winced.

Bud’s heart sank. There went any chance of claiming mitigating circumstances. He could feel a plea bargain coming on.

"Is that all, sir?"

"Yes, corporal, thank you. Oh, by the way, were you on duty when Cdr. Rabb and Col. MacKenzie left the base?"

"Yes sir."

"Do you recall what time that was?"

The young man thought a moment. "Around seventeen-hundred, I think. The exact time would be in the log at the guard shack, sir."

Bud’s mind was spinning so fast, he barely acknowledged the corporal. Leaving the infirmary, he went straight to Leeds’ quarters. The lieutenant came to his feet when Bud entered. "Lieutenant, did you see any other cars on the road between here and town?"

Leeds thought about it for a long moment. "No sir."

"Are you certain? Cdr. Rabb and Col. MacKenzie left here about an hour before you arrived. You should have passed them."

Bud watched the confusion slide around on Leeds’ face and something deep in his gut told him the man was hiding something. Taking a step forward, he pushed into Leeds’ space. "Two senior officers are missing, Lieutenant. If you know anything about it…."

Leeds did his best to hold his Marine persona together, but it didn’t last. His expression crumpled. "I’m sorry, I…I honestly don’t remember anything. I…I don’t even remember getting in my car last night."

Spinning on his heel, he charged out of the barracks, going straight to the motor pool. Leeds’ car was in a corner of the compound, the front end badly damaged from the impact with the barrier. Bud examined the car closely, checking the damaged front and both sides. On the driver’s side was a long scrape that ended halfway down the rear door. Bending low, Bud studied the scrape, then pulled out his pocket knife and picked a few chips of paint off, letting them fall into the palm of his hand.

"What have you got there, Lieutenant?" came the colonel’s voice from behind him.

Bud turned, extending his hand. "Paint, sir. Blue paint."

The colonel frowned. "Where did that come from? The car is green and the barrier is painted yellow and black."

His gut clenching into a painful knot, Bud met the colonel’s gaze. "Sir, I think this came from Cdr. Rabb’s car."

"Harm? Harm, wake up." The soft words penetrated slowly, pulling him up from a dreamless place. He peeled his eyes open, then immediately slammed them shut again. Something definitely wasn’t right. He felt like he was on a tilt-o-whirl gone mad. Keeping his eyes shut didn’t do much for the spinning sensation so he forced them open again. Mac was looking down at him, worry etched into every line of her expression. "You’re as white as a sheet. Are you okay?"

"No," he admitted, "I don’t think so."

"What’s wrong?" She couldn’t hide the note of panic slipping into her voice.

"I’m not sure. I’m…dizzy."

"You must be injured somewhere, even if you didn’t feel anything earlier."

"Actually, my left leg was a little sore right after the accident, then it kinda went numb."

Her eyes widened. "And you didn’t tell me?"

He did his best to shrug. "What was the point? There was nothing you could do. There still isn’t."

Exasperated, Mac shoved the briefcase out of the way and let her head hang down past his shoulder. Turning to her right, she could get a partial view under the ruined dashboard above her, but it was so dark it was hard to see any details. Keeping her eyes glued to the darkest area, she waited for them to adjust. After a moment, she could just barely make out the side of his leg. She couldn’t see the top of it because of the wreckage pressing against it.

Twisting awkwardly, she reached into the narrow cavity, sliding her hand down his pant leg. About mid-thigh, the material became damp. Just above his knee, it was soaking wet. She withdrew her hand and looked at her fingers. They were red.

"Damn it, Harm, you’re bleeding! You probably have been the whole time!"

He had suspected as much. The lightheadedness could certainly be from loss of blood. Abruptly, Mac planted her hands and pushed up against the wreckage. Groaning with the effort, she pushed until her face turned an alarming shade of red. Collapsing, she took several deep breaths, then made a move to push again. He caught her shoulder and gripped it firmly. "Mac…"

Ignoring him, she gave another frantic push, clearly putting everything she had into it, and maybe just a little bit more.

"Mac, stop!" He had to tug twice before she finally dropped again. "Mac, don’t. You can’t force this thing to move."

"But we’ve got to get you out," she insisted. "We can’t afford to wait for rescue now!"

"We don’t have a choice," he countered, his tone sharper than he’d intended. Blowing out a breath, he let his hand slide back and forth over her shoulder. "Look, either they’re going to find us soon, or they aren’t and the hell of it is, we can’t do a damn thing to change that."

"But…" She let the thought trail off. He could see in her eyes that she knew it was the truth, but that incredible Marine tenacity of hers wouldn’t let her accept it. Maybe it was the giddiness he was battling with – and losing – but suddenly, his own mortality was staring him in the face and all he felt was a strangely calm resignation. If he was going to die here, there wasn’t much either of them could do to prevent it. But if that was to be his fate, he was damn well going to make sure he didn’t leave any unfinished business behind.

"Mac, there’s some things I want to tell you."

Her eyes instantly filled with tears. "Harm, don’t you dare! Don’t you start talking like you’re not going to get out of here…"

"It’s long past time I started talking, Mac. I kept my mouth shut far too long and caused both of us a lot of pain that could have been avoided. I should have said something back on that ferry in Sydney Harbor, or maybe even at your engagement party, out on the admiral’s porch. You tried to push me into talking in the hotel in Paraguay and I shut you down – again. I don’t blame you for turning to Webb. Like you said, at least he came right out and stated his intentions."

"Maybe so," she said softly, "but—"

"But nothing," he interrupted. "You were right that night in Paraguay – about a lot of things. You deserve some happiness, Mac, and if you’re happy with Webb…"

"But I’m not," she whispered.

He went perfectly still, stunned by her soft admission. "You’re…not?"

"No. Clay and I are not much more than friends, really. He wants it to be more and at first I did too, but…" She let the thought trail off.

"But what?" he prompted.

"But something is holding me back and I don’t really know what it is."

"I do," he said softly.

Her eyes rimmed with tears, she met his gaze for a very long moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was so soft he almost didn’t hear. "I guess maybe I do too."

"Mac, I—"

"Shh." She put two fingers to his lips, but he moved her hand away. If he didn’t get this out now, he might never have another chance.

"No, I need to—"

"Hush!" She barked the command this time, cutting him off in no uncertain terms. "Listen!"

He did and, for a moment, heard nothing but a few birds twittering in the trees, but then very faintly, he heard voices.

"Hey!" Mac shouted, lifting her fist to bang against the roof of the car. "Hey, over here! We’re over here!"

It took emergency crews another hour to bring in equipment and pry the car apart enough to get them out. Worried sick about Harm, Mac protested loudly when the EMTs insisted treating her first.

"Take it easy," one of them told her. "We can’t help him until they get him out. In the meantime, we need to check you over."

"I’m fine," she insisted. To prove her point, she brushed away his hand and tried to sit up on the rigid board they’d used to lift her out – and promptly fell back flat on her back.

"See," the EMT admonished. "You’re dehydrated and, at the very least, battered and bruised. Now, lie still and let us do our jobs."

Suitably chastised, she did as she was told, but only until Harm was finally removed from the car, stretched out on a back-board, just as she had been. They lowered him to the ground beside her and before she was even aware of moving, she had reached past the EMT between them. She caught Harm’s hand and although the EMT blocked her view of his face, she felt him grip her hand.

She hung on until one of the medics gently removed her hand. A moment later, two firefighters lifted the spine board she was on into a litter and strapped her in firmly. She caught one last glimpse of Harm before they picked her up and began the long and awkward climb up to the road.

When they finally reached flat ground again, she was transferred to a stretcher. Even before the EMTs had her settled, a tall familiar form separated itself from the surrounding crowd of emergency crews and military personnel. The admiral’s smile couldn’t quite mask the worry etched into his features. "How are you, Colonel?"

"I’m fine, sir, I just can’t make them believe it," she replied. "I wasn’t actually hurt in the accident."

"You still need a thorough exam in a hospital," he told her. "That must have been quite the ordeal you went through."

For Mac, the ordeal wasn’t over yet and it wouldn’t be until she found out how Harm was doing. "Sir, Cdr. Rabb’s leg was injured. He lost a lot of blood. Have you…heard anything?"

"Not yet. They’re still working on him down below, but I’m sure they’ll be bringing him up soon." The EMTs moved into place to load her into the ambulance. "Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re kept informed."

"Thank you, sir."

Despite the admiral’s promise, Mac didn’t hear any more about Harm’s condition until after she’d been transported to the hospital and examined by a doctor. The young physician and the nurses were all surprised at her lack of injuries. She had some nasty bruises on her back and a few cuts and scrapes, but that was all. They did start an IV to help rehydrate her but beyond that, the doctor’s prescription was simply to rest.

How the hell was she supposed to do that when she still didn’t know if Harm was all right?

Not long after they moved her to a private room, the admiral appeared at the door. She couldn’t stop herself from verbally pouncing on him. "Sir, do you know how Harm is doing? No one downstairs would say anything except that he was being seen by a doctor."

"He’s in surgery to repair a badly broken leg," the admiral explained. "I spoke briefly with the doctor. He had some reservations, but he was hopeful the commander will make a full recovery."

"Reservations?" she repeated, not liking the sound of that at all.

"It’s a waiting game, Colonel, but the doctor didn’t sound all that worried." He fixed her with a firm gaze. "How are you?"

"I’m fine, sir, although around here, they seem to think that’s some sort of miracle."

His expression darkened briefly. "I saw that car. It is a miracle you’re both still alive, let alone relatively unscathed."

"Admiral, what happened to the other car? Was the driver injured?"

He frowned. "No one’s told you yet? The driver of the other car was Lt. Leeds. Don’t ask me how, but he kept his car on the road and made it all the way back to the base, but he was so drunk he drove right through the barrier at the guard shack."

She stared at him. "Harm was right! He suspected Leeds wasn’t just tired when he crashed the Hum-v."

"To my knowledge, he hasn’t admitted anything regarding that incident, and didn’t own up to hitting you either, at first. If Lt. Roberts hadn’t put two and two together, you might still be trapped in that car."

"Well, thank God for Bud! Remind me to thank him the next time I see him."

A small smile crept onto the admiral’s face. "I’ll do that. Get some rest now, Colonel."

"Yes sir, I’ll try."

Despite all her protests, the doctors insisted Mac stay in the hospital overnight. She finally gave in and agreed, but not until the doctor pre-signed her release forms. By ten a.m. tomorrow, she would be on her way home for a much anticipated soak in her own bathtub.

To her surprise, PO Coates appeared at the door to her room at nine-forty-five. "The admiral sent me to drive you home, ma’am."

"That wasn’t necessary," Mac replied, wincing as she leaned down to slip on her shoes, "but I do appreciate it. I hope you don’t mind waiting a few minutes, though. They told me earlier this morning that Cdr. Rabb is out of the recovery room and I want to see him before I leave."

She didn’t just want to see him, she needed to. Something had happened between them in the car, or at least it had started to. She’d lost count of the number of times they had been about to finally make serious inroads into discussing this...this…whatever it was…between them, only to be interrupted. She could hardly be ungrateful for the source of the interruption this time, but she was determined to pick up where they’d left off…something they’d never quite been able to manage before.

"No, ma’am, I don’t mind at all," Coates replied quickly.

With the petty officer in tow, Mac made her way to the surgical ward two floors above. She asked at the nursing station and was given directions to Harm’s room. As she approached, she sensed Coates hanging back and glanced over her shoulder.

"I’ll just wait out here, ma’am." Coates looked extremely uncomfortable all of the sudden and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. Mac knew damn well she and Harm weren’t the only ones who felt the sparks that flew between them.

"No, come in," she found herself saying. She wanted to tell herself she was only trying to avoid providing any more grist for the rumor mill, but the truth was, she was nervous as hell about seeing Harm and having Coates around, at least for a few minutes, would give them a much-needed buffer.

Coates still looked reluctant. "Oh, I don’t know, ma’am…"

"Nonsense! I don’t plan on staying long. Come in and say hello to the commander."

"Well, all right."

Smiling, Mac shoved the door open. The room was dimly lit, the curtains pulled to block the strong morning light. Harm lay propped up in bed, his left leg encased in a heavy cast and suspended a few inches above the bed. For a moment, Mac thought he was sleeping but when her shoes scuffed softly on the polished floor, his eyes popped open.

A broad smile spread across his face. "Hey there."

"Hey yourself," Mac returned. "They’re finally going to spring me but I didn’t want to leave without checking up on you."

"I’m glad you did." His voice held a warmth she rarely heard but when she did, it never failed to send a rush straight to her heart. His gaze slid to Coates and the tone changed. "Playing chauffer, Coates?"

"You guessed it, sir," the young woman replied with a smile.

"Well how would you like to play doorman for few minutes instead?" Harm startled himself with the question, but it was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Coates frowned at him, but there was no going back now. "I’d like to talk to the colonel for a few minutes and I really don’t want to be disturbed. Think you can keep the nurses at bay?"

Coates nodded in that way she had that said she was confused as hell and trying hard not to let on. "I can do that, sir."

"Thanks." He gave her another smile and watched her turn to go. The moment the door closed behind her, he turned his full attention to Mac – which is where it had been from the moment he awoke after surgery.

Slowly, tentatively, Mac approached the bed. "How’s the leg?"

"Not bad, considering… They tell me I’m in for a few weeks of rehab, and that’s after a suitable recovery period."

"That bad, huh?" She sounded as nervous and awkward as he felt.

"Yeah, but it will be okay in time. We’ll be facing off again in court before you know it." She was still hanging back, as though she was afraid to get too close, but close was exactly where he wanted her.

"Come here," he said softly, holding out a hand. She hesitated a fraction of a second, then stepped forward, tentatively taking his hand.

"Harm, we—"

"Mac, please, let me talk for a minute, then it will be your turn. From everything I’ve heard, we’re damn lucky to be alive and for awhile there when we were trapped, I wasn’t entirely certain we were going to stay that way. There’s nothing like facing his own mortality to make a man stop and take stock of his life." He folded her hand into both of his. "We started talking about why you’re not happy with Webb. We both know why, don’t we?"

She nodded, swallowing hard.

"Do you…" His nerve started to fail him. He dragged in a deep breath. "Don’t you think it’s time we did something about it?"

"Like what?" she breathed.

"Like admit it, for starters. For the past eight years, we’ve both felt the attraction between us. I feel a connection to you I’ve never experienced with any other human being. I don’t know, maybe it’s because it’s so different, but it took me a long time to figure out what I was feeling." It was his turn to swallow hard, but despite his nervousness, he was determined that this time, nothing would stop him. "I…I love you, Mac."

She went completely still, staring at him for so long he almost regretted saying the words. At long last, she blinked – just once – very hard.

"You…you what…?" she breathed.

"I love you. Don’t tell me this comes as a surprise." He honestly didn’t understand her reaction.

"Actually, it does," she said finally. "Not that you feel that way, but that you actually said it."

He couldn’t help chuckling. "Yeah, okay, so that might be a good reason to be shocked, but honest, I’m not suffering from a concussion or anything else that would make me say strange things." He sobered. "It’s just that I realized inside that wrecked car that I just might not make it out of there and I couldn’t stand the thought of never telling you how I felt."

She gazed down at him, strangely detached and isolated, but her voice was soft. "Okay, so you’ve said it, now…what do you want to do about it?"

He frowned. "What do you mean? I thought that was pretty obvious."

"No, Harm, nothing is obvious. To be completely honest with you, most of the pain and grief we’ve caused each other is because we’ve both assumed too many things go without saying. They don’t, not anymore." Her voice now held a note of challenge – one he was ready to face.

"Okay, fine. You want me to lay it all on the line for you? I’m crazy about you, Mac. I have been for years. I want us to be together, now and for the rest of our lives."

Again, she stared at him for a very long time, the abruptly broke the stance, blowing out a breath. "Whew, I guess I should be careful what I ask for, huh? That was one hell of a declaration."

A small smile started tugging at his mouth. "Yeah, it was, and now you have to decide what to do with it."

The corners of her mouth started to twitch. "With it…and with you." Her gaze ran the length of his body. "I guess I shouldn’t expect you to take me dancing for awhile."

"Yeah," he said quietly, "dancing is probably off our list of activities for quite some time."

Her smile finally bloomed and with it came a decidedly provocative gleam in her eye. "Then we’ll just have to find activities you can do sitting down – or lying down."

Harm damn near choked. He’d always thought of her as beautiful and sexy but the way she was looking at him now literally robbed the breath from his lungs. Their eyes connected and he felt his smile fading away just as fast as hers was. Very slowly, she leaned down, her beautiful face coming closer and closer. He kept his eyes open, feasting on her beauty until the last second before her lips touched his.

After that, he was conscious of nothing except the heady warmth spreading through him. He felt as if he was home at last and, as his arms slid around her to pull her close, there was only one thought in his mind.

That car accident was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

The End