Background: Originally Posted – January 2004 First ever fanfic. Written post Paraguay – mid season nine so anything that happened in the second half of the season doesn’t happen here – NO mattie.

Rating: Adult for occasional sexual situations

Summary: Harm and Mac are sent on assignment to find the Vice President’s daughter, and maybe something else along the way.

Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. entered the bullpen with his standard thoroughbred strut. At 6’4, with dark hair, green eyes, and a killer smile, this pilot turned lawyer fit the old cliché: tall, dark and handsome.

After quickly dropping off his briefcase and cover, Rabb walked passed Sarah MacKenzie’s empty office to PO Coates’ desk. "Jen, have you seen the Colonel yet?"

"Yes sir, she’s been in with the Admiral since she arrived at 0700."

"Thank you." He wondered what could be so important to keep Mac in the Admiral’s office for a full hour before staff call?

Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie was a stunning woman. Almost 5’9 she towered over most women. Her Persian heritage showed in her olive toned skin and beautiful brown eyes. Mac, as she was known, was a marine lethal weapon, both beauty and brains.

Finding any pretense to hover near the Admiral’s office to wait for Mac, Harm managed to: make copies of files he already had in triplicate, give Harriet folders to file knowing full well he’d only need to retrieve them before the end of the day, and leave a message on Sturgis’ desk even though Sturgis was on a case in Pensacola. He was running out of ideas and becoming more curious than the proverbial cat.

Finally, Mac emerged from the Admiral’s office. She proceeded full speed ahead to her office with a stack of files as high as her chin.

Before Harm could even consider following her, the Admiral, only steps behind her bellowed from his office, "Staff call in 15 people, Rabb my office now."

The Admiral was already standing behind his desk shuffling files when Harm entered the room ready to stand at attention. Without looking up, he ordered Rabb to take a seat.

"As you probably know, a group of 20 French tourists ‘bird watching’ in the jungles of Colombia were kidnapped by guerillas 3 days ago. Of course why any sane human being would want to be wandering around bird watching in Colombia is beyond me." Sitting down, the Admiral continued. "The problem is they were not all French. One is actually an American. Vice President Hillsdale’s daughter Sabrina is traveling with a French passport."

AJ glanced up a moment, comprehension of the seriousness of the situation was now evident on Rabb's face.

"Due to the government policy of not paying ransom, official negotiation is not an option. State is quietly requesting our assistance on this, particularly, you and the Colonel. I’ve gone over the details with Colonel Mackenzie. She now has all the background information the two of you will need and will fill you in on the details. You’ll need to hand off all cases you’re currently working on. I’ve also arranged for Lt. Manetti to return to headquarters while this situation is taken care of. Keep her in mind when delegating your cases." Pushing away slightly from his desk, he looked up at Rabb. "Any questions?"

"Sir, Lt. Hudson’s court martial is scheduled in two weeks and the Manganelli article 32 should be shortly after that. Should I reassign those cases as well?"

The admiral took in a deep breath before slowly speaking. "Rabb, what part of ALL did I not make clear?"

"None, sir."

Raising only one eyebrow, the Admiral continued, "Any further questions?"

"No, sir."

"Colonel MacKenzie will brief you in her office, there’s no need to attend staff call. Dismissed"

Knocking lightly on Mac’s doorframe, Harm looked intently at all the files spread out on Mac’s desk.

Letting out a long breath, Mac waved at Harm to sit down. "Okay, let me fill you in, we don’t have much time."

Once he was seated, Mac handed him a few files and began explaining. " Sabrina Hillsdale married Roland Gentille 15 years ago. He’s currently First Secretary with the French Embassy in Bogota."

"Mac, why would a French official be bird watching? He has to know, as well as the Vice President’s daughter, that Colombia is on the restricted travel list even for ordinary citizens, and especially for government officials?"

"They weren’t really bird watching. Apparently they own a getaway home in the small town of Paipa, outside of Bogota. Supposedly, that strip of highway was still safe from guerilla threats. The guerillas dropped one of their fishing expeditions and trapped over 250 people."

"Fishing expeditions?" Harm shuffled through the files Mac had given him searching for more information on what she was referring to.

"I believe the exact name is ‘pesca milagrosa, ’ miraculous fishing. The guerillas appear out of nowhere creating a blockade on two ends of a stretch of highway. All cars in that section become prisoners, their fate to be determined by their social status and wealth. Apparently the guerillas feel something can be gained from even the poorest of captives. They released the majority of the Colombian Nationals after they paid whatever monies they had with them and ‘donated’ the better automobiles to the cause. According to a few of the people released, they kept about 40 people. The 20 French tourists were the only captives important enough to announce on the news."

"So, what you’re saying is, the Vice President’s daughter was not bird watching, just taking a scenic drive in the guerilla infested countryside of a third world country that’s been fighting a drug war for over 30 years?"

"Harm, we don’t have time for sarcasm." She sighed.

Giving her just a trace of the smile that made his green eyes sparkle, and her knees melt, he softly replied, "Sorry."

"As I started to say, according to some of the people released, because they spoke french, the First Secretary and his wife were confused for part of the French bird watching group."

Mac stood up and began to pace in the confined space. "Yesterday five of the French tourists appeared at the French Embassy. According to them, the forty prisoners were divided up into different categories, and sent in different directions. All the French tourists were marched off to some nearby town before they were interrogated. These five each apparently had considerable cash with them and were able to bargain for their immediate release. They were told to run home as the guerillas shot at their feet with rifles. They didn’t stop running or look back for hours. It took them until yesterday to reach the Embassy. They confirmed that the Vice President’s daughter and her husband are indeed being held with the rest of the tourists, and none of the guerillas had realized that Sabrina is an American."

Interrupting for the first time since he was scolded. "Well, I guess we can thank God for small favors."

Nodding her head, Mac agreed. The last thing they needed was for Sabrina to be labeled an American. "That may not be the only favor to thank God for. It appears Colombian DAS (the Colombian equivalent of the FBI) has been able to piece together information from the released tourists, and some well bribed informants, to locate where they’re being held."

"If they know where they are, why doesn’t the Colombian Military just stage a rescue? Haven’t we been spending a small fortune on men and equipment training them to do just that?" Harm spit out, his exasperation showing.

"The last high profile rescue saved 15 people, but there were still casualties and two fatalities. One of which was a prominent Colombian Senator. The Vice President is not willing to take the slightest chance. We’re going in to negotiate a release."

"Against official policy?" It wasn’t really a question.

Mac nodded her head slightly, quietly agreeing with what Harm didn’t have to say. "Mr. Enrique Tovar, the head of DAS in Barranquilla, has a daughter living in Bogota. It’s been decided we’ll use her friendship as a cover, we will be her houseguests."

"Who will be our official contacts?"

"Technically, no one. Official travel to Colombia by any military or government personnel has been prohibited until further notice. State doesn’t want the slightest possibility of anyone making a connection between the US and the recent kidnappings. We’ll be traveling as civilians. Since we won’t be there in an official capacity, we’ll have no official contacts other than Mr. Tovar. We’re only to contact the Embassy in case of an emergency."

"Not again," Harm mumbled running his fingers across his forehead.

"Mr. Tovar has arranged for his daughter to take Gunny on as a driver at their place of business, just in case. Already in South America, he shouldn’t draw any attention taking on a new job. With corruption so prevalent throughout government everywhere in Colombia, the Vice-President is afraid to trust any government officials other than Mr. Tovar. The only reason we’re trusting him is because The Vice-Presidents son went to college with Mr. Tovar’s cousin’s son."

Harm raised both eyebrows, dropped his jaw, and shook his head. "Mac, come on, they can’t really expect us to trust someone on that kind of a recommendation?"

"They can, and do. Our orders are to do whatever Mr. Tovar recommends, and trust only the people he trusts. Gunny isn’t suppose to have any contact with us unless he’s needed."

"Well, at least now I understand why the admiral didn’t want to give me the details himself. What I don’t get is if we’re not traveling as military, but as ‘guests’, and we’re not dealing directly with the US or French Embassies, why are WE the ones going?"

"It appears our reputation for retrieving that marine sergeant’s body from Bogota a few years ago, and now surviving Paraguay, has the Vice President confident that we’re perfect for the job.

"Why does this sound like a Webb operation?"

"Probably because you don’t like this situation and you don’t like Webb! Our flight to Miami leaves at 1300. We arrive in Bogota at 2210. I’ll bring all of these files to study the rest of the information on the plane. We’ve got the family history of our hosts. Oh, that reminds me, their names are Vilma and Francisco Franco. I’ve also got files on all recent training maneuvers, any recent rescue attempts, any known brokered ransoms, and even a few successful escapes."

"As soon as I hand off my cases, I’ll go home and pack. What if I pick you up at your place at 11:15 and we drive to the airport together?" Harm offered casually.

"Actually, PO Aikens will be picking you up at 10:30 and me at 11:00. There’s no sense in leaving our cars at the airport indefinitely."

Picking up some of the files, Harm smiled at Mac before heading out the door. "See you at 1100."

Throwing all perishables in the trash, Harm took a last quick sweep of the apartment for anything that wouldn’t keep for an extended period of time. Glancing at the door, his mind wandered to the vision of a very pregnant Mac standing there ‘why is it you only get this way when I have one foot out the door.’

Shaking his head at the sound of the doorbell. "Coming," he called to the Petty Officer on the other side. Still shaking his head, he stepped out into the hall and locked the door behind him trying to put aside any memories of Mac and South America.

Cleaning out the last of her fridge, Mac surveyed the room for anything she may have overlooked. She ran through a checklist of what she packed. Last time she found Bogota wasn’t as warm as she had expected, so she decided to pack more sweaters.

‘That will be better than the tank tops in Paraguay. How is any normal female in a tank top, so close to Harmon Rabb, suppose to think clearly.’ She could hear her voice as she stared at a vision of Harm across a small table, ‘we can’t move on and neither one of us is getting any younger.’

Snapped out of her thoughts by the soft knock on her door, she pushed the memories of Harm and South America away where they belonged. Opening her front door, "Hey Harm, ready?"

"All right Mac, let’s see if I’ve got this straight. We’re travelling under our own names but not mentioning our military rank unless we need it. Vilma and Francisco are supposed to be old friends. Four years ago they did a tour of the East Coast with their three sons. They spent several days in Washington DC. We met them at the Smithsonian’s Air and Space Museum."

At Harm’s quizzical expression, Mac explained, "The admiral and I tried to create a cover story that mixed their real lives and ours. We thought with your love of planes, if anyone decides to do a background check on us, it would make sense that we might spend an afternoon just hanging out at the air and space museum. It was the only place our paths could have crossed."

Harm gave Mac a ‘you are kidding’ look.

Mac simply shrugged her shoulders.

"All right, we’re hanging out at the museum," Harm couldn’t resist rolling his eyes once more, "and we struck up a conversation with five total strangers over a WWII Stearman." Harm shook his head at the unfolding scenario. "I mentioned having restored my grandfather’s Stearman, and the conversation grew from there. We recommended a good place for them to eat dinner, so they graciously invited us to join them. We hit it off so well that we’ve remained friends ever since. What about these?" Harm handed Mac a couple of photographs.

"The photos are pretty recent, so, we shouldn’t have trouble recognizing one of them at the airport."

Harm continued looking at the information they’d been given while Mac studied the photos.

Vilma and Francisco made a handsome couple. She especially had a captivating smile. What impressed Mac the most was the look in their eyes. They’d been married for 19 years. The photo was taken fairly recently, yet, they were holding hands, and the look of love in both their eyes was absolutely hypnotizing.

Mac glanced up at Harm. Sometimes she could almost see that same glimmer in his eyes. Looking back at the photo, she could only hope.

"Hey, Mac…. Mac?"

"Hmm."

"I was asking you, what’s this about a party?"

"Oh, that’s the excuse for our visit. They’ve agreed to throw a party so we’d have a good reason to finally make the trip. It’s her birthday."

"Isn’t this a pretty long way to come for just a birthday party?"

"Well, it happens to be her 40^th, so her husband is making a big production out of it. People are supposed to believe we’ve used Vilma’s birthday as an excuse to plan a long vacation. It doesn’t seem that far fetched to me."

"Mac, it says here it’s at the country club."

"Yeah."

"I didn’t bring my dress whites."

For just a moment, the thought flashed through her mind ‘you could just wear your gold wings.’ Quickly she cleared her mind, the temperature in the plane was already warm enough.

"We’re civilians, remember? You shouldn’t be wearing dress whites. Oh, that reminds me, I forgot to mention the Admiral called before we left to tell me Clayton offered to send a suitcase of appropriate clothing, along with any other accessories he felt we might need. Since he hasn’t done too badly in the past with his wardrobe choices, the Admiral didn’t object. That was the extra bag I checked in."

"One suitcase for the two of us? That will give new meaning to living out of a suitcase." Harm couldn’t seem to stop rolling his eyes.

Ignoring the comment, Mac put her head back, closed her eyes, and leaned comfortably against Harm’s shoulder. This, she could definitely get used to.

An hour later and Mac was sleeping soundly. Unable to resist watching her sleep, Harm closed the files that were on the tray table in front of him, and shifted his weight so she could snuggle into his shoulder. He wasn’t sure exactly how long ago he had draped his right arm around her, or when his left arm wrapped itself around her also, drawing small circles on her side. Mac’s right hand was flatly lying on his chest, rising and falling with every breath he took. God, how he loved holding her this way. Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander off to what it would be like to always have Sarah Mackenzie in his arms.

"Please fasten your seat belts, stow tray tables in the seatback in front of you, and raise your seats to the upright position. The flight attendant will…." Waking to the realization the plane was readying to land, Harm reluctantly let go of his sleeping Sarah to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Shaking her ever so softly, he whispered into her hair, "Time to wake up, Marine". Unable to resist, he barely brushed his lips on the top of her head. "Hey Mac, come on sleepy head. It’s time to get up."

Quickly passing through immigration and customs, with much less difficulty than they had expected, Harm and Mac pushed towards the jumbled crowd of waiting people pressed against the exit doors.

"See anyone who looks like the photos yet?" Mac softly inquired through the left side of her mouth.

"Two o’clock, the lady in the beige turtleneck. Think that’s her?"

"Yep, sure do. I’d of thought she was blonde considering how quickly your radar spotted her."

"Maaacc."

"Sorry, eagle eyes." Mac held back a quiet chuckle.

By the time they had passed through the double glass doors, Vilma had pressed past the crowds to grab Mac in an ardent embrace. Kissing Sarah on the cheek, "Sarrah, what a delight to see you again, and Harrmone!" She turned to Harm and gave him an equally stuffing squeezing hug and kiss. Dang this lady was a good actress. Anyone watching would have thought they’d been life long friends.

Mac and Harm were only momentarily stunned by the warm greeting. Quickly, they fell into their roles.

Vilma turned back to Mac again. "Did you have a nice flight?" They both nodded yes. "Good, Francisco is waiting by the car. Come and we’ll get you home so you can rest. You must be tired."

Not far away Francisco was standing beside a silver Peugot sedan. Stepping closer, he extended his hand to Harm. "Welcome, glad to see you finally made it." Turning towards Mac, he leaned forward giving her a hug and kiss on the cheek. " Sarah, you look as lovely as ever." Apparently, they were both pretty good actors.

The ride home was filled with proper introductions and pleasant chitchat. The first thing to catch Mac’s eye was the entwined pair of hands resting between the two front seats. Amazing, she thought, after all these years they really do still hold hands.

Harm had apparently noticed the same thing. Periodically, during pauses in the conversation, he would glance back and forth from Mac to the happily married couple’s clasped hands.

Before heading to the apartment, Vilma and Francisco thought it a good idea to drive Harm and Mac through a quick tour of downtown Bogota. Actually, they just wanted an excuse to drive them past the US Embassy.

They drove through ‘la Candelaria’ a lively neighborhood section of the city with small shops and ancient churches. Vilma pointed out the Plaza de Bolivar, the Bogota Cathedral, and the famous Gold Museum. A few minutes later, they turned off the main road and Vilma shifted in her seat again.

"Here we have your embassy. We will give you the address to carry with you in case of an emergency. As you can see it is very well guarded." Vilma pointed to the white building on her left.

It was quite a fortress. Close to one square mile in size. A concrete wall at least 10 feet high, topped with barbed wire, surrounded the entire complex. There was a second fence several feet inside the perimeter. This one was chain link, again topped with barbed wire. The building complex itself resembled a large stone block. It seemed more like a prison than an Embassy, a sorry reminder of the lawlessness that had now enveloped Colombia. There appeared to be only one entrance and it was guarded by the expected marines, as well as by several bomb-sniffing German shepherds. Harm and Mac glanced at each other knowingly as they drove around the property, the magnitude of the situation slapping them harshly in the face.

Leaving the somber structure behind, Harm reached over for Mac’s hand. Such a small gesture, so much comfort.

Bogota

Nestled up against the emerald green foothills, stood the cluster of white apartment buildings. The variety of beautiful flowers painting the landscape and balconies startled the visitors. They hadn’t expected so much color and beauty in such a chilly mountain climate.

Harm and Mac noted the guard at the garage door as they drove into the building’s underground parking. Once in the elevator, Francisco explained, "We will stop a moment in the lobby so I can introduce you to the guard on duty at the front desk. Entering and leaving the building without Vilma or I will be much easier once all the guards learn that you are our guests."

Again, Harm and Mac just looked at each other, intrigued by the amount of security for an ordinary apartment building.

After explaining to the guard on duty that Harm and Mac would be staying for an extended visit, Francisco hustled them back into the elevator and pushed the button for the 8^th floor. Vilma was the first one out of the elevator, and she hurried ahead to ring the doorbell. By the time the entire clan reached the apartment, the maid had opened front door. Harm and Mac glanced at each other quickly. It looked like this trip was going to be full of surprises. Neither had considered the comforts that might come with the cultural differences of this assignment.

Francisco sent the maid and another gentleman down to get the luggage. He explained to Harm that Arcadio was their personal family driver. He was the one who would be driving Harm and Mac anywhere they might need to go. Arcadio had stayed behind this evening to allow more room in the small car.

With his guests now comfortably seated in the living room, Francisco offered them a nightcap. Mac explained briefly that she didn’t drink, Francisco graciously smiled, but he clearly had a look of concern on his face.

Finished serving everyone their drinks, Francisco sat down in the living room beside his wife. "Time to get down to business. My wife and I are very happy to be of any assistance in this situation. As you know, my brother was kidnapped 4 years ago and never heard from again. It will give me great satisfaction to be able to play even the smallest of parts in saving even one person from a similar fate."

Seeing the look of recognition in Harm and Mac’s eyes, "You have done your homework." Francisco nodded in approval. He and Vilma had been told that Harm and Mac were the best people for this assignment. As a psychologist, with the little time he’d had to observe them and their ability to silently communicate, Francisco was convinced, the Americans had indeed sent the best team.

Harm and Mac smiled sadly. Despite the circumstances, a smile seemed fitting. They could sense this was a happy place regardless of the sorrows suffered in the past.

"You can travel anywhere you choose within the city limits, so long as it is in one of our cars with Arcadio. Vilma’s brother also has an armored car, so if on occasion it becomes necessary, you can travel with them."

"Are we to understand that the car we just rode in is bullet proof?" Harm questioned.

"Yes," Francisco answered, without hesitation. "Both our cars are armored. There are deadbolts two inches in diameter and 18 inches long that will prevent the doors from opening when locked. Arcadio is armed at all times, but the security is in the car, not in the pistol. Now, it is time to hurry up and wait. Until Vilma's father contacts us with our next step, you are our guests and we expect you to enjoy the lighter side of life our country has to offer. Tomorrow we will be going to lunch with Vilma's brother and his wife at the club."

Not knowing if questioning her hosts was such a good idea, but not wanting to shirk her responsibilities with social activities, Mac bit her lower lip contemplating what to say.

Harm beat her to it, having already formulated the similar thoughts into words. "That would be lovely, thank you, but when should we expect to hear from Mr. Tovar?"

"Please call him Mono. Everyone has called my father that since he was a small blonde haired boy," Vilma added. "When he will call us, depends on when he is contacted. So far the French tourists have not been moved. This is very unusual. Normally hostages are marched deep into the jungles making any communication or rescue nearly impossible. This time the captors have chosen to remain in a remote village. It’s still in what we consider the jungle, but it is considerably more accessible than where the llamas graze. From what we can tell, one of the men in charge of the group is disobeying orders to be near his girlfriend, so he hasn’t moved the hostages deeper into the jungle yet. Until we are contacted again, we cannot be sure they are truly still there."

"I see, thank you," Harm nodded, his mind processing the complexities of the situation. He was beginning to understand why the Admiral made him clear his entire schedule. This was not going to be an easy in and out assignment. He might as well accept it: he and Mac could be here a long while.

"You’re welcome. Now let me show you to your room." Vilma turned to lead the way.

Two pairs of eyebrows shot up. Glancing at each other, the communication that took place without words in a matter of seconds went completely unnoticed by their hosts.

As they followed Vilma down the hall, Harm leaned down slightly and whispered to Mac out of the side of his mouth, "I guess we won’t have to worry about divvying up the extra suitcase."

Reaching the room Vilma looked to Mac. "I hope the king size bed offers enough… discretion? My father assures me that this will not be a problem." She had decided after only a few moments with this charming couple that her father had indeed been right. They were much more than business partners, and posing as a happy couple would not be far from the truth. "I would offer one of you the small sofa in the study, but even though I believe I trust my maid with my life, I’m not sure I’m willing to risk your lives on that belief."

Once again the instant nonverbal communication between Harm and Mac had begun. Yes they would handle sharing a room, but there was definitely something not being said here. Their hosts seem to have information they didn’t. Who’s going to do the asking? With a short nod it was agreed, Harm.

"I’m sure whatever arrangements you deem best will be fine with us. Is there some reason our not being a couple will pose a problem?" Harm did his best to discover what information he and Mac were missing, hopefully without insulting their very gracious hosts.

Vilma and Francisco looked at each other somewhat surprised. Aha, similar non-verbal communication was exchanged between the married couple, only in Spanish. Interesting, two heads nodded, then Vilma spoke.

"Forgive us if we’ve been presumptuous. Mono suggested, and we agreed, it would look odd for two casual friends from the United States to travel to Colombia in our current political climate, even for a friend’s birthday. However, Latins are much more willing to accept a happy couple might be willing to overlook the risks if they were focusing on our romantic culture."

Taking note of the doubts crossing her guest’s faces, Vilma elaborated. "I know to you this sounds silly, but we are a very romantic people at heart. This way outsiders would simply be less likely to contemplate if you have ulterior motives and stumble onto the true reason for your visit."

Pausing again to read their faces, Vilma smiled knowing she’d made her point, ‘an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.’ She reached for her husband’s hand before continuing. "If the maid were to notice that you are merely pretending to be a couple sharing separate rooms, she could unintentionally mention it to the wrong people, who could question your true purpose here. In this country you learn to trust no one. The most modest of employees at home, at a hotel, or restaurant could easily be a guerilla informant. As Americans you are already prime targets, if it were known you are military, or worse, here on a rescue mission, the consequences could be disastrous. A couple enjoying the company of friends, as well as a second honeymoon of sorts, would draw less attention. If it helps, we’ve not told anyone specifically if you are married. Fortunately the rules of etiquette are so rigid here it is unlikely anyone will be bold enough to ask your status if you choos

They all nodded and mumbled their good nights and sleep wells.

Too tired to give it anymore thought, Mac turned to Harm. "Which side of the bed do you want?"

‘Which ever you’re in,’ was the first thought to cross his mind. "I’ll take the side closest to the window," he replied.

Mac dug through her luggage for her toiletries, grabbed her nightgown, and headed into the bathroom.

‘Oh lord, she didn’t bring flannel pajamas. This is going to be a very long assignment.’ Harm was debating whether to strip down and climb into bed or if maybe a cold shower might not be a better idea. Before he could come to any decisions Mac came out of the bathroom wearing a dark green, floor length nightgown. He couldn’t help but stare. There was a deep sheen at every curve. The spaghetti straps revealed the soft flow of the shoulder he had been holding only a few hours ago. The neckline dropped down in a low V with a lace pattern between her breasts, creating a clear window into the valley he so desperately wanted to lose himself in.

Realizing Mac was just standing there watching him take inventory, he looked up into her eyes. ‘Thank God, she doesn’t seem annoyed at me ogling her like a sex starved teenager.’

"I guess it’s my turn." He mumbled, smiling at her with a softness that thanked her for not decking him. Definitely time for a cold shower.

Surprisingly they both slept soundly and woke on opposite sides of the king size bed. Years of working together, and occasionally sharing rooms, allowed them to fall into an easy morning routine. They were dressed and ready to join their hosts for breakfast in no time.

After the usual morning pleasantries, Francisco was the first to get down to business. "It appears that Mono’s informant was able to see the Gentilles. He’s offered to assist the Guerillas in order to have better access. He has slipped Mr. Gentille a next of kin card with Vilma and my names and numbers. Hopefully, Mr. Gentille will understand and suggest the guerrillas contact us for ransom. Now we wait."

The morning was spent in their room unpacking and studying the ransom files they'd brought. The ransom approach would be considerably safer than trying a rescue, but it would take a lot of time and a lot of money. According to the files, one broker in particular appeared to have some success at getting hostages released in less time. Mr. Tovar had worked with him before and had already arranged for his participation if they were contacted for ransom.

"Mac, some of these ransom releases took over a year to negotiate. The shortest one took three months. Maybe a rescue wouldn’t be such a bad way to go?" His eyes were almost pleading, knowing it was silly to even suggest a change of plan, but he couldn’t fathom how he was supposed to be so close to her day and night for the next three months to a year and still maintain control. It was one thing to keep his feelings at bay when they were Colonel and Commander at work. It was going to be something totally different to keep his feelings and desires from taking over if the pretense of intimacy was needed for an extended period of time.

Without looking up from where she was sitting at the desk. "What’s the matter flyboy, can’t stand the thought of being stuck with me?"

Harm stood up from where he was sitting on the bed. Walking over, he stopped just behind her, laid his hands on her shoulders and started to massage them lightly. "I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather be with. It’s just I’d rather it were under different circumstances."

Mac placed her hand on one of Harm’s, and squeezed. "I know."

As she leaned her head back against the chair and closed her eyes to enjoy his touch, Harm studied her intently. Even tired, she was so beautiful. How he wished these were different circumstances, that he could show her how he really felt. Without realizing it, he had slowly leaned closer to her until their faces were only inches apart.

Feeling his breath so close to her, Mac opened her eyes, startled by the depths of feelings she could see etched on his face. His hands stilled as their eyes froze in each other’s gaze. Before she could react to the nearness of his lips, he quickly stepped back, the protective armor she knew as Harmon Rabb safely replacing the torrent of emotions she had seen and felt only seconds before.

A light tapping on the door, followed by Vilma’s voice, "Time to leave." successfully snapped them back the rest of the way to reality.

The country club was located just at the edge of the city. As with everyplace else they had seen in Bogota, there were several guards standing at the entry gates. Here, like at the US Embassy and the local shopping mall they had passed, there were two bomb-sniffing German Shepherds. Amazingly enough, all this security was perfectly normal for the local citizens and didn’t seem to upset them in the least. Armored cars, personal bodyguards, armed entry guards, bomb-sniffing dogs; these things were as normal a part of everyday life as a lock on the door, or an alarm on your car would be back in the States.

Francisco had reminded them for the umpteenth time, since you never know who is an informant for the guerillas, it’s best not to speak English outside of their home. This is one of the reasons why a hotel stay would have been inappropriate. Hotels and restaurants are prime locations for invisible employees to track and pick potential targets for the well paying guerillas. In the city there is little fear of guerillas coming in and capturing you. The problem is with the local thugs who capture you and sell you off cheaply to the guerillas. It was agreed however, the club would not be a problem since many Americans were members and spoke only in English.

The place was gorgeous. Marble floors, indoor swimming pool, sauna room, exercise room, formal dining room, poolside cafeteria, beauty salon, billiard room, kid's rompus room, day care, tennis courts, golf course, and of course the 19th hole bar and grille. This is where it was decided would be a good place for lunch. Vilma’s brother Jack and his wife Claudia, were charming. Jack’s English was flawless. It was obvious he had spent a good deal of time in the United States. Claudia on the other hand suffered in her attempts to keep up with the conversation, but she was obviously enjoying herself anyway. Claudia’s parents, Amparo and Rodolfo, had joined them for lunch. Outside of Vilma and Francisco, only Jack and Claudia knew why Harm and Mac were really here. Amparo and Rodolfo would be the first test of how well their cover would work.

Lunch was definitely more of a social event than the half-hour fast food they were used to. It quickly became apparent why Francisco had looked so concerned when Mac mentioned she didn’t drink. Everyone at the table was drinking either whiskey or rum and coke, quite a bit of it, too. Fortunately, the popularity of the rum and coke allowed Mac to have a plain coke and not stand out much. Harm was more comfortable sampling the local beers.

Holding hands was apparently not an unusual thing in this family. Jack and Claudia frequently were spotted doing the same. Rodolfo spent the latter half of the now three-hour lunch, with his arm around his wife’s shoulder. By the time they were having coffee, Harms arm had somehow worked its way around Macs shoulder as well. As Francisco had said before, no one asked the details of their relationship, they were introduced as their friends Mac and Harm, with no further explanation needed.

The luncheon seemed to carry on into an afternoon party. Everyone went back to the Franco’s home. By dinner time there was laughing, music, and dancing. The Franco’s sons had returned with some friends and all had joined the festivities. Each of their sons had danced at least once with their mom and both their aunts (Claudia’s mom was considered an aunt as well). Even some of the friends were dancing with the adults. Francisco had serenaded Vilma twice already, and everyone was pleasantly amused to discover that Mac had never been officially serenaded.

"You mean to tell me a woman as beautiful as you, and no man has ever lost himself in song over you?" Rodolfo asked in honest shock. "Here, every young girl has at least had one young man sing to her. Just last week Abel had a Mariachi band go to his girlfriend’s house to serenade her for her birthday."

"You’re kidding, at his age?" Mac said, looking at Abel in amazement.

"Well, most kids Abel’s age don’t hire Mariachis to sing to their girlfriends." Jack chuckled. "Usually the young men sing themselves the way Francisco has been singing to Vilma all night. The musicians come into play when you have more spending money." He smiled in his sister’s direction.

Harm and Mac just looked at each other before Jack continued.

"The original tradition was the man, alone or with musicians, would sing under the young ladies bedroom window at night professing his love for his lady. Whether or not she turns the light on would signal if she returns her suitor’s admiration. Today when someone is serenaded, the musicians get invited in and the party begins. Some times the party would have already started before the musicians arrive. This was the case for Juanita’s birthday with Abel."

"I realize this custom is not popular in the United States, but you truly have never had a man sing his love for you?" Rodolfo repeated shaking his head, still unable to believe Mac had never been serenaded.

"No, really. I don’t know anyone who has." Mac answered, not noticing the pointed glares Harm was receiving from all the men in the room.

By late evening Mac was getting quite hungry. She had nibbled her way through everything offered, but her marine appetite was starting to rebel. She had been sitting on the small sofa next to Harm for some time now. Since they both were avoiding dancing, this seemed to be the safest spot to hide out. Keeping his arm around Mac’s shoulder, they actually blended in quite well. Everyone sat in couples. It had startled Mac at first. Back home, the women always wound up in the kitchen and the men in some other room. Here, no one went near the kitchen, and spouses all sat or stood side by side. ‘This assignment is definitely full of surprises,’ she thought.

As if Vilma could read Mac’s mind, dinner was announced. A lovely Paella (Spanish rice and seafood dish) was set out buffet style in the dining room. Thinking about the reason they were really here, Mac was starting to feel a little guilty with all this friendly company and good food. None the less hunger won out over guilt and they all enjoyed a delicious meal.

Rodolfo and Amparo had been dancing fairly non-stop. Noticing a lovely romantic ballad was playing. He leaned over to Harm and said, "Even in America this song is not hard to dance to." He smiled suggestively at Harm and stepped away.

"Okay, you two," Vilma announced. Leaning over Harm, she grabbed him by the arm, and yanked with all she had in her. Since Harm and Mac had been holding hands, Mac sprang up right beside him. Vilma kissed him on the cheek, smiled, and walked away to dance with her husband.

"I guess it’s been decided we should be dancing." Harm smiled, pulling Mac in a little closer.

The living room and hall where they were all dancing was fairly small. Harm and Mac somehow had been deposited on the far north end of the small foyer so they were on the edge of the crowd, and slightly hidden from the now growing group in the living room. Relaxing after a few minutes, Mac leaned into Harm’s shoulder. Harm recognized the tune and found himself humming in Mac’s ear. Unfortunately, he had only heard Enrique Iglesias sing Hero in English and was unfamiliar with the lyrics in Spanish. It didn’t matter, Mac was lost in the sound of his humming voice and the smooth swaying of their hips. His grip on her was warm and snug as he pulled their clasped hands closer in. His right arm softly rubbed the small of her back, she smelled absolutely delicious. Every sense in them was on edge.

Vilma and Francisco, now sitting on the sofa, glanced over at their guests, giving each other a knowing smile.

"Mono was right again. There’s more to these two than business. All they need is a little encouragement in the right direction," she smiled, a twinkle shimmering in her eye.

"Yes, and I know just who to encourage it," Francisco laughed.

When the party finally broke up, it was 4 o’clock in the morning. Harm and Mac were so exhausted; they collapsed onto the bed, fully clothed, and instantly fell into a deep sleep. They awoke side by side in almost the exact positions they’d fallen asleep in.

By mid afternoon, Harm and Mac had learned little more from the files, and were feeling a bit restless waiting for a phone call. Everyone was invited to dinner at Jack and Claudia’s this evening. Hopefully tonight wouldn’t end quite as late as last night.

Jack and Claudia had a lovely apartment not far from Vilma and Francisco. When the door opened, Mac and Harm were struck by the lovely open living area, probably twice the size of the Franco’s.

Barely in the front door, "Hello, welcome. Quickly, follow me." Claudia said, grabbing a free arm and dragging her two guests behind her. "You have to see this before the sun finishes setting." Depositing Harm and Mac on the deck to watch the sunset, Claudia stepped back inside, winked at her sister in law, and returned to greet the rest of her arriving guests.

The building was nestled right up against the hillside. They had arrived just as the sun was beginning to set. The view was breathtaking. The mountains rose up to their left and behind them, while in contrast, the entire city was laid out in front of their feet.

Harm reached over to hold Mac’s hand. He was doing that a lot already on this trip. "Amazing how some place so beautiful can be filled with so much trouble."

"Mmn," was Mac’s only response. She was enjoying the view and the company way too much to waste any time in conversation.

Several of the neighbors had been invited to join them for dinner this evening. It was starting to look like this was going to be another late night. From practically the moment they arrived, the music had been softly playing. The conversations were all in English for their benefit. Since they hadn’t really expected so many people to be so fluent in English, this was one of the more pleasant surprises for which they were extremely grateful. Neither Harm nor Mac’s Spanish would have been considered strong enough to carry on all the varied conversations they’d been having.

The evening progressed much like the night before, good food, plenty to drink, not quite as much dancing, and of course, the couples all sitting or standing side by side. By midnight Mac was starting to feel a little tired. Noticing this, Vilma approached Harm and whispered in his ear, "the view at night is even more impressive, perhaps Mac would like some fresh air on the deck."

Leaning on the railing, Mac took a deep breath. "I thought the sunset was breathtaking, but the city lit up at night is just as impressive, maybe more."

"It is quite a sight…but you look tired." Harm gently laid his hand over hers on the railing.

"Yeah, I am. I don’t understand how these people can do this every night and still work the next day."

"I don’t think they do this every night under normal circumstances." Harm smiled.

"I’m not so sure. They seem to have almost a routine down," she added, slowly shaking her head.

Harm couldn’t help but chuckle. She had a point.

As beautiful as it was outside, Harm could tell Mac was feeling the chill. Stepping behind her, he wrapped his arms around her, keeping Mac’s arms warm in front of her. "Is that any better or do you want to go back inside?"

"Oh no, I want to stay here a little longer, and yes, it’s much better thank you." Mac leaned comfortably against Harm’s broad chest. She most definitely did not want to go back inside now.

Her eyes focused in the distance. "It all looks so peaceful. It’s unbelievable that it’s anything BUT peaceful out there. Somewhere out there, past the city, through the jungle, are a bunch of tired, hungry, possibly hurt, and most likely terrified people."

"I know, and we’ll get them back, one way or another." Harm promised himself.

Mac turned around in his arms so she could see his face. "Do you really think we can make any difference? I feel like I’m at one long frat party."

"Once we’re contacted things will start happening. I think they’re just trying to keep us distracted until it does. I suspect they have a lot of practice at keeping themselves from thinking about all the reality out there." Harm raised his chin, pointing off in the distance.

Mac shivered again slightly.

Pulling her a little closer, Harm started rubbing his hands up and down her back to keep her warm. "Mac, you really need to go inside."

Mac looked up at Harm to protest, but no words would come out. His deep green eyes had turned a dark shade of steel gray. They seemed to be looking right through her, straight to her very soul. Harm couldn’t stop touching her. He couldn’t move his eyes from her gaze. Her eyes were such a deep hypnotic brown. He knew they needed to separate. He knew they needed to go inside. He knew they were here to do a job. He knew a lot of things, but for this moment in time all he wanted to do was reach down and….

His lips covered hers ever so tenderly. She tilted her head up slightly deepening the kiss. As his lips danced with hers, she parted them giving him the invitation he needed. His tongue slipped past her lips and began its own dance with hers. Her arms were now tightly around his neck. His hands had gone from lightly caressing to desperately kneading her flesh. He couldn’t get close enough. Here, under the stars and the glowing city lights, it all seemed so perfect. They seemed so alone.

Some how they managed to remember they weren’t alone, and things weren’t even close to perfect. Whatever they were feeling, this was neither the time, nor the place to do something about it. Slowly, they pulled slightly apart.

Mac took a small step backwards. "I…I think I’m ready to go back inside."

Harm extended his hand to her and silently escorted her back to the party.

Once again, Vilma and Francisco simply smiled at each other and nodded.

Around 2:30am Vilma saw that Mac was looking more than a little worn around the edges. Harm on the other hand, had fallen into a conversation with one of the neighbors about airplanes and ‘cats’. Wondering why a group of men would be conversing about felines, Vilma was pretty sure she had misunderstood something, but couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

"And you did the entire restoration yourself? Amazing. Still you must miss flying your tomcats?" A silver haired neighbor was saying.

"As long as I get a chance to be in the air, I’m happy." Harm responded as Vilma touched him lightly on the arm.

"Gentlemen, I hate to break this up but we ladies need our beauty sleep."

Sitting next to Mac on the ride home, Harm couldn’t help but stare at her sleepy form. Her head was bobbing slightly as she tried to fight sleep. Tonight was going to be hard for him. His lips were still on fire from earlier. The memory of the kiss very much a reality. He’d already had several beers and knew it was going to take everything he had to keep his thoughts, and a few other things, under control. Their kiss had been so warm, so full of passion, he thought maybe even love. He wondered if it were at all possible she could want him as badly as he wanted her, and not just for tonight, but for the rest of his life.

As they entered the apartment, Vilma and Mac headed straight for the bedrooms. Francisco, God bless him, headed to the bar to pour himself a glass of wine.

"Would you like a nightcap, Hahrrmone?"

Harm was actually beginning to like the way they’d been pronouncing his name. He was also delighted to have an excuse not to crawl into bed with Mac just yet.

As the two gentlemen took seats in the living room, Francisco looked over at Harm. "You and Sarah are very close aren’t you?"

"We’ve been partners for almost 8 years."

"There’s more to it than that my friend."

"It’s complicated."

"Love is only complicated if you make it so."

"You and Vilma make love look very simple."

"It is. People choose to be complicated, love is simple. Take you and Sarah, the two of you together take care of each other, she’s cold -you keep her warm, she’s tired -you let her rest, you’re restless- she helps you focus. It’s not work, it just happens. The love in your eyes is not the love of only best friends. How do you Americans say…soul mates."

The two men sat quietly for a few moments.

"Harm, you prefer Harm?" Francisco noted Harm’s indifferent shrug. "I think you will discover if you spend your time finding ways to love Sarah, there will be fewer ‘complications’."

Francisco stood up, shook Harm’s hand goodnight, and went off to his wife. Harm sat there for a moment. ‘Find ways to love her.’ Thinking of ways to love her wasn’t the problem. Boy, was that not the problem!

When Harm entered the room, Mac was already soundly asleep on the edge of the bed. Stripping down quickly, and crawling into his side of the bed, Harm kept as much distance between them as he could. He was more than thankful for the last glass of wine. It helped sleep come more easily.

"Did Vilma mention what time she and Francisco would be home?" Harm asked.

"No, she just said to go ahead and start lunch without them, they’d get here as soon as they could."

"I was starting to wonder with all the lunches and dinners we’ve been to, if they really worked for a living." Harm chuckled under his breath.

"It is amazing how many people they know. And so far, they all want to invite us somewhere. This is the first time we’ve had lunch at home since we got here."

"You have to admit, Mac, we’ve had a wonderful time everywhere we’ve been. Good food, good conversation, plenty of laughter, and always music."

"Yeah, I know. Everyone seems to have so much enthusiasm for life. Even I keep forgetting there are armed guards in the lobby and bulletproof cars in the garage. It’s as if there was no turmoil in the real world. What is it? We have music in DC. We have friends in DC. Why is it different here?"

"It’s not different, Mac."

"Harm, when was the last time you saw Bud and Harriet outside of the office?" As Harm looked to the ceiling contemplating her question, Mac continued. "How about a ball game, or a few drinks with Sturgis? When was the last time you and I had dinner without a case being involved? Better yet, when was the last time you went out on a date, a REAL date?" As Harm sat there in continued silence, her eyes said, ‘I told you so.’

"MAAC. You know how busy things are." Harm practically whined.

"Exactly, we always have an excuse why we can’t enjoy life. These people all have work, children, and responsibilities. I haven’t heard anyone make an excuse yet why they couldn’t do something. Haven’t you noticed?

"Okay, exactly what ARE you saying?" Harm questioned, as he took hold of the hand Mac had resting on the table and gave it a squeeze.

"I guess I’ve just been thinking maybe we make things too complicated," she sighed. "I don’t know. Never mind. I think I’m just restless waiting for some news. What do you say we check out what’s for dessert?" She smiled.

"Sounds like a plan," he replied, but he couldn’t help thinking she had a point, things were definitely different here. They were different here. Maybe Francisco was right.

Harm and Mac awoke with a knock at their door.

Vilma poked her head into the bedroom. "You two better hurry up and get dressed, we’ve been contacted."

A/N: Colombia is almost three times the size of Montana

When Harm and Mac reached the living room, Francisco was looking at some papers. Vilma sat at his side watching him, her hand resting gently on his knee. You could see how worried she was about him. Neither one had said anything, but Harm and Mac both knew this couldn’t be easy for him after the loss of his brother. Four years ago Francisco’s brother, along with the brother’s business partner, chauffeur, and secretary, disappeared on their way to a business appointment on the outskirts of town. Ransom requests had never been made. They were never heard from again. Initially Vilma, Francisco, and their sons left the country to the safety of Miami. After 8 months, when they were sure the threat did not extend to their family, they returned to Bogota.

Harm and Mac sat down, side by side, on the couch across from Vilma and Francisco. Without thinking, Harm reached over for Mac’s hand, holding it firmly on his lap.

"We have received word." Francisco stood up and handed a paper to Harm, then to Mac. "They have done their homework. Obviously the captors checked into who we are, and how much we’re worth. Fortunately they don’t seem to question that we are not a blood relation. Most likely they probably think Vilma and I are Godparents or something along those lines. They have asked for one million dollars. That is a lot of money in Colombian pesos, even for us."

"Was there anything else, any more information?" Harm asked.

"No, just that photo and the short note." Francisco replied.

"I have already contacted my father." Vilma interjected. "We should be hearing from his friend very soon. He has been in Bogota for almost a week getting ready. He is one of the best. He will know how to handle this from here."

Returning to the seat next to his wife, Francisco looked over at Harm, "Ransom is seldom paid for the amount originally demanded. They most likely calculated what they thought we would pay and then tripled that figure. How much money do you have access to?"

At this question Harm and Mac looked at each other blankly. They had assumed this information would be provided to them when they arrived, since it had not been mentioned before.

Harm spoke up "We weren’t given any information regarding access to ransom money. We thought you or Mono would know."

"Then," Francisco said, "I think it’s time we show you our place of business." Placing his hands on his knees, displaying an instant change in mood, he stood up with a grin somewhat like the cat that just swallowed the canary.

Knowing full well why Francisco’s place of business would be important, they all grinned in agreement.

Vilma and Francisco gave Mac and Harm a quick tour of the facilities. It was actually quite impressive. There was a small indoor pool and a gymnasium for working on gross motor skills. Nearby were several smaller playrooms where therapists worked on fine motor skills. An extensive computer room and miscellaneous classrooms for tutoring of older ages were on the second floor. Apparently they were set up to help not only the physically and academically challenged, but the exceptional as well. Once they were done viewing the offices on the third floor, they walked downstairs to the small refreshment stand in the lobby.

"As you know I have several errands to run for Francisco" Vilma intentionally explained loudly in front of everyone. "Rather then have you bored tagging along, Juan will drive you back to the house. Is that alright with you?"

"Sounds like a plan." Harm smiled back.

It took everything in Mac not to smile like a Cheshire Cat when she saw Gunny. Even Harm’s eyes had that special twinkle.

Harm and Mac stood up and followed Gunny out to the parking lot. Once the armored SUV had driven some distance from the learning center, Gunny finally spoke. "Great to see you ma’am, sir."

"Same here, Gunny," they both chimed in.

"We need to get information on access to ransom money," Mac explained. "We’ve had our first contact this morning. They’ve initially requested one million."

"Yes ma’am. The Vice President has set up an account with Citibank. Apparently this is one of the few banks that you can access accounts both in the US and Colombia with ease. You will have full access to all the funds you need. The account papers and information are in a manila folder under my seat. The account currently has one million dollars available. I’ve been informed that there is more available if you need it. Also, recent intel confirms the Gentilles have not been moved again and are in good health under the circumstances."

"We were sent a photo of them, but we don’t know how long ago it was taken. I guess they did look pretty good considering the situation," Harm commented.

Mac bent over to retrieve the envelope. Feeling her weight tug at his arm, Harm let go of the hand he hadn’t realized he was holding. He surprised himself further to notice his now empty hand rested comfortably on Mac’s thigh. Straightening up in her seat, she folded the envelope and slipped it into her handbag. Without a second thought, she effortlessly placed her free hand back in Harm’s grasp. Casually, she nodded to Gunny in the rear view mirror letting him know she had the information.

Giving her one of his famous flyboy grins, Harm left their joined hands resting on her leg, gently giving her a reassuring squeeze. These small gestures of affection were now second nature to them. Watching Mac chat happily with Gunny about the city, Harm began to contemplate these changes in their behavior. Initially Mac would tense up when Harm put his arm around her, or held her hand. It wasn’t long before she was relaxed enough in their cover to wrap her arm around his waist, or reach for his hand as she had just done. He couldn’t help but wonder if this felt as real to her as it did to him. The casual touches, the soft caresses, they all came so naturally now, as if it had always been that way between them. He thought back to the kiss on the deck. That wasn’t acting. She had to feel everything he felt, just like on the admiral’s porch so long ago.

"Isn’t that right, sir?"

Startled to realize Gunny was talking to him, "Excuse me?"

"It’s a shame such a pleasant country, once so famous for it’s beautiful emeralds, is now known for drugs and terrorism?" Gunny repeated.

"Absolutely, Gunny, absolutely," Harm agreed, now, giving the driver his full attention.

"Did you know Colombia is considered the kidnap capital of the world? The population is only a little bigger than the state of California, yet an average of eight people a day are kidnapped for ransom somewhere in this country."

"Yeah, Gunny, unfortunately, I do," Harm sighed.

Turning one last corner, Gunny pulled up in front of the Franco residence in time for lunch. In reality it was time to go over the recently received information with their new broker, Antonio Quintero.

The additional information Mr. Quintero shared coincided with all the data they had been reading up on since their arrival. He seemed quite confident that this would be an easy transaction, as far as terrorist kidnappings went.

"First thing, we’re going to need to establish the Gentilles are still alive. Of course, we all know this already, but the guerillas do not know we know this. If I do not request some proof they are alive, it could raise suspicions."

Walking across the room to get another egg roll from the lunch buffet Vilma had served, Antonio continued. "The contact this morning was a simple manila folder left with the doorman. It included little information. Mostly it just stated that in order to get Mr. and Mrs. Gentille back alive, they wanted to receive one million dollars. We can not presume when or how they will contact us again."

The balance of the afternoon was spent working out the details, with Quintero telling them how he expected things to go. "One of the many reasons ransom negotiations take so long is that terrorists prey on the raw emotions of the family. The longer you sit waiting in anticipation for a word, a call, any proof your loved one is still alive, the more likely you are to pay more money. Time is on their side."

Everyone in the room nodded their heads in understanding.

Antonio seemed to feel the next contact would be by phone. Although they weren’t expecting to be contacted too quickly, everyone felt it was best if he stayed close by, moving into the study. Now it was time again to just wait. The part Harm and Mac had dreaded at first, but had now become so accustomed to. The idle pleasures of a feigned personal relationship eased the passage of time. If either of them were to admit it, time spent waiting gave them the ability to indulge in the previously unexplored closeness of a couple, something they both treasured, knowing eventually it would have to be left behind.

Dinner had been a casual family event. The first really quiet night they’d had since they arrived. The boys stayed for dinner, but had plans afterwards. It surprised Harm and Mac how much of a social life the boys had, especially on a school night. Abel was 18 so it didn’t seem unusual that he would be going out with friends, but Alvaro was only 16, and Miguel was 14. Apparently training to enjoy life started at a young age in Colombia.

The balance of the evening had been spent chatting about all the people they had met and the things they had managed to see. It seemed strange going to bed at 11pm. Especially since Abel, the oldest boy wasn’t home yet.

With everyone retiring early, Mac and Harm followed Vilma and Francisco towards the bedrooms. Not surprisingly, neither of them was really tired. They’d gotten used to the late night, or was it early morning hours.

Pausing a moment, Harm looked at Mac, "I think I’ll just stay in the living room a bit and have a quick nightcap."

"Okay, don’t stay up too late, this may be the only chance we get for a really good night’s sleep," Mac commented as she reached for the knob on their bedroom door.

"I won’t," he assured her. ‘Except, you need to be sleepy to have a good night’s sleep,’ he thought. ‘And, if you’re not sleepy, you certainly don’t want to be in bed next to a beautiful marine. A very sexy, beautiful marine.’ Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his mind of the vision of Sarah MacKenzie beside him in bed, Harm turned on his heel and headed for the bar.

After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning trying to get to sleep, Harm finally gave up. Looking at the clock, he realized he had only been in bed for 35 minutes. Restless, he sat up in bed and glanced over at Mac. He hadn’t known many women who were as beautiful asleep as they were awake. He wanted very much to lean over and brush the hair away from her face, to gently caress her beautiful bare shoulder. His lips longed to taste her delicate neck, but he knew better than to risk waking a sleeping marine, and if he somehow found the nerve to do what he was thinking, there was no way she wouldn’t wake up and deck him.

She was wearing a very attractive burgundy nightgown. Harm had learned it was best not to look at her much when she was in her nightgown. He wasn’t sure how many times he could be forgiven for gawking like a teenager. He also wasn’t sure how long he could continue sharing a bed only for sleeping if he paid any attention to WHAT she was sleeping in. He took a deep breath, looking for something else in the room to focus on.

He needed to get out of bed. Knowing how close she was to him, and seeing how beautiful she looked was just killing him. He desperately wanted to touch her, to watch her body spring to life, shiver with passion at the feel of his body mingling with hers. Hopping out of bed, he went to the bathroom for a glass of water. What he really needed now was a cold shower. Searching through his shaving kit for a couple of aspirins for a slight headache he’d been fighting all day, he didn’t hear when Mac came up behind him.

Putting her left hand on his right shoulder, he looked up at her reflection in the mirror. His heart caught in his throat, ‘Damn she has to be the most beautiful woman in the world.’

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked. He looked a little peaked.

"Just a little headache and a hard time sleeping." Of course, he wasn’t about to explain that being hard was what wasn’t letting him sleep. Especially, if he didn’t want to spend the rest of this mission sleeping on the floor.

Mac stepped back to her left to let him pass just as he turned around to his left to leave, bumping right smack into her right breast. Without thinking, he glanced down at her very full breasts. From this proximity and height, he could see right down the valley of her breasts. He was close enough to see her erect nipples pressing against the satin gown, and Lord help him, no panties. Momentarily frozen at the sight of a totally bare Sarah MacKenzie beneath that invitingly thin nightgown, a jolt of excitement shot through him straight from both his heads to his toes. It took everything in him to move his eyes and shift left again. Unfortunately, Mac regained her composure and shifted to her right about the same time. Now they were face to face, pressed against each other in the confines of the small bathroom.

Harm could feel her hard nipples boring into his bare chest, and let out a soft grumble. At the clear memory of her soft breasts and dark mound, his body’s instant reaction meant stepping away now would be very embarrassing. There was no way he could hide what she was doing to him. He didn’t dare look in her eyes, did he?

Flat against the wall, Mac was trying desperately to not hold her breath. She could feel Harm’s arousal growing as it pressed against her. Her knees were starting to feel a little weak from the shock her whole body had just received as he brushed up by her. Knowing the only thing between her and a rock hard Harmon Rabb were two thin strips of fabric only increased the fire shooting through her. It was taking all her self respect and marine control to keep to her side of the bed every night, but God hadn’t created a human being with enough will power to withstand this.

Harm couldn’t resist looking in her eyes any longer. The deep, dark pools of black drew him in. Before either of them could think clearly, Harm’s mouth came softly down on hers. Considering the passion that was burning in them, this was the softest, most tender, loving kiss either of them had ever experienced.

Harm pulled away from the kiss to look at Mac. The gentleman in him urged him to apologize, to step back. The man in him wanted this woman more than anything in the world.

"Sarah, I…. Uhhh…I’m…." ‘Oh what the hell’ flashed through his mind. He came in for another kiss with the fury of a tomcat coming in for a landing on a carrier. Mac threw her arms around his neck. This kiss was hard and passionate. All the desire that had been bottled up for weeks had been uncorked and was exploding with volcanic force. Their tongues were dueling as if their very lives depended on it. Harm’s hands slowly moved around Mac’s waist. Her hips were so round and smooth. Every part of her was calling to him. He couldn’t touch enough of her. Their lips were on fire. They were on fire. Pulling her more tightly against him, the gentle friction of his erection against her soft body had him almost convulsing with need. When her hand slid slowly down his chest, around his side and fell softly on his six, pushing him impossibly closer, all the oxygen rushed from his body, his lungs gasping for air. He had to stop, there was no way he was going to love this wom

Their chests were heaving with the need for air. Harm was just watching the rise and fall of Sarah’s perfect breasts.

Mac couldn’t believe what was happening, ‘he wants me, ME!’ Her knees felt like jelly. How she was still standing she didn’t know. Everything she had been waiting for was now right in front of her for the taking. Everything, except….

"Oh, Harm." Her breathing still heavy, she tried to find the right words, "as much as I want you, want … this, we…we can’t. Not now."

Harm’s heart crashed to the floor. What had he done? ‘Stupid Rabb, she’s not a street corner whore. What were you thinking pouncing on her like that?’

Harm lifted his head, trying to avoid Mac’s eyes. He couldn’t bear to see anger or disdain in her eyes. He focused on a spot just over her shoulder. "Sarah, …Mac, I’m…"

"It’s Sarah."

"Huh?" He looked her straight in the eyes.

"I like it when you call me Sarah," she almost smiled.

Now confused, as well as scared, Harm continued. "Sarah, forgive me, I shouldn’t have…"

"No." Still trying to get her breathing under control. Avoiding his eyes, she reached forward on either side of him, she took hold of his hands in each of hers.

Harm was struggling to clear his mind. Mac simply holding his hands was once again exciting every nerve ending in his body.

"I’m not saying I don’t want…this…us." She squeezed his hands, and sighed. This might very well be the hardest thing she’d ever done. "I can’t think of anything I would like more than to share that bed over there, for more than just sleeping, and for more than one night." There, she’d said it. She finally said what had been on her mind since the first night she stepped into the room. "What I’m saying, or at least what I’m trying to say is, there hasn’t been anyone, that is… a man in my life for some time now… I mean… I have no reason to use… to be on…birth control."

She stopped looking at his hands and looked up into his eyes. Harm’s eyes dropped briefly to Mac’s stomach, then back up to her eyes. To Mac the momentary silence seemed interminable

"Would that be so bad?" He asked, his sexy, low voice almost a whisper.

If Mac thought she was blown away by their sudden kiss, Harm’s response now, really threw her for a loop. Her jaw dropped as her mind struggled to find words.

"I …uh…wha…ah…well…Can we maybe discuss this sitting down? Preferably NOT in the bathroom."

Harm chuckled softly. He bent over and slid his arm under her legs picking her up, and walked a few feet before depositing her on her side of the bed.

Climbing over her, Harm lied down beside her and drew her up close to him. She rested her head on his shoulder and laid her hand on his chest. Lightly kissing the top of her head, Harm took her hand in his and laid the entwined pair of hands back down on his heart. The two of them were now breathing easier, more in control. He still wanted her with everything in him, but now he could wait – if that was what she wanted.

"Would that be so bad, Sarah?" He whispered into her hair, his lips eager to continue their exploration of Sarah MacKenzie.

Mac propped herself up on one elbow, and looked him in the eyes. "You’re serious!"

"Yeah." He tried to read her eyes. "It can’t be a total surprise to you that I want you to be the mother of my children?"

Sarah thought a second. ‘Did he just say children, plural?’ Sitting up now, but leaving their clasped hands on his chest, Mac searched Harm’s face.

"I know you once offered to father my child, but I wasn’t really sure if it was something you would want to go through with."

"Very much so." Harm responded without any hesitation.

She looked at him another moment. She wasn’t used to this much honesty from Harm. She liked it. "Then no, no it wouldn’t be so bad." Looking down she took a deep breath, then looked Harm back in the eyes. "It wouldn’t be bad at all, but I’d like to be a little selfish and enjoy just having you for a while first…Besides, I’d always sort of thought… hoped…that maybe…I mean…I’d rather..."

"That maybe a wedding would come before a baby?" Harm flashed his megawatt smile.

"Something like that," she blushed.

Awed that he hadn’t blown his one opportunity with his Sarah, Harm paused to consider how to best say what was on his mind, "Would you…consider…I mean, do you think maybe some day we could…"

"Yeah, I think maybe we could." Sarah lied back down against him, amused at how such a well- spoken lawyer could be so tongue-tied when it came to matters of the heart.

Harm smiled and squeezed her. "Maybe tomorrow I should ask Arcadio to give me a tour of the local drugstores."

"Sounds good, sailor." They came together again in a very tender kiss, knowing for now that it would have to be enough.

The Next day was spent in a whirlwind of activity. Harm and Mac had forgotten that today was the day of the big birthday party.

The day started out with the manicurist arriving at the house by 9am and the masseuse by 10, a few more of the cultural perks. Vilma and Mac had a manicure, pedicure and massage. After lunch the two women went on to the hairdresser while Harm and Francisco had their turns with the masseuse. House calls were apparently very common. Service seemed to be a major focus for all types of businesses, Mac wasn’t at all surprised when they were offered a cup of coffee at the beauty salon, but she was flabbergasted to be offered a seat and coffee at the bank. Just as she had been startled to notice how many businesses had signs offering home delivery, from the pharmacy to the grocery store.

Harm accompanied Francisco to pick up a new tux Francisco had ordered for the party. Most of the day Harm had been wondering how to bring up the subject with Francisco about needing to buy condoms. For some silly reason he felt very uncomfortable, probably more so than when he was a teenager.

The problem almost resolved itself when on their way back to the house Francisco turned to Harm, "I need to make a quick stop here at the pharmacy. It will only be a minute, is there anything you might need?"

‘YES!’ Harm thought ‘Okay, calm down, I’m not a teenager, we’re not teenagers, just ask the man.’ "As a matter of fact there is." Harm’s face flushed several different shades of pink before his mouth opened again. "I… well actually Mac and I…we, I mean I, I could use…"

Francisco had sensed his obvious discomfort but now the realization of what Harm wanted was beginning to dawn on him. "I think I understand." Francisco smiled "It’s nice to see you and Sarah have worked out your ‘complications.’ Follow me and you can choose your preference."

Harm and Francisco had been home only a few minutes when Vilma and Mac walked in. Harm was amazed at the two women. The ladies were both naturally very attractive women. He had always thought Mac was the most beautiful woman in the world, but the two creatures before him were absolutely stunning. He’d never seen Mac with so much makeup. She looked like she fell off the cover of a fashion magazine. Francisco smiled and whispered into Harm’s ear, "close your mouth or you’ll catch bees."

Harm wrinkled his brow, turned to Francisco, and softly replied, "Flies."

"Hmm?" Was all Francisco said, smiling at his wife.

"You’ll catch flies." Harm expounded, still gaping at Mac in astonishment.

The ladies smiled, walking right past the men and into their rooms.

Everyone was ready to leave for the party by 8 o’clock. Mac was wearing a black knee length dress with a scoop neckline, showing just a hint of cleavage and some beadwork on the short sleeves. The dress fit as though it had been custom-made for her. It hugged her tiny waist and then rounded out at the curve of her soft hips. A sleek pair of black, sling-back heels made her already long legs appear even longer. Mac had never looked sexier, Harm thought. He held his bent arm out to her and together they followed Vilma and Francisco out the door.

The party was much like the events they had already been to. Laughter and music filled the air with plenty of food and dancing, only all of it on a much grander scale. The room was glowing with dim lights and candles. The tables were set with lovely arrangements of fresh colorful flowers. A rather large orchestra was playing a varied selection of Latin and modern rhythms. Most people were already dancing by the time they arrived. The food was outstanding. The hors d’oeuvres were almost orgasmic. Everyone was dressed to the nines. Even the younger teens were wearing tuxes and evening dresses. At times, the jewelry was almost blinding. Over the weeks Harm and Mac had met so many of Vilma and Francisco’s friends, they were easily engaged in various conversations throughout the large ballroom. They also had gotten used to dancing together since it was the norm at so many of the gatherings they had been to. Not only had they gotten used to it, they’d grown to love dancing togethe

"Now this has to be a first for you, marine," Harm commented following Mac to the table.

"What would that be?" she replied, glancing back at him as he pulled her chair out for her.

"You not wanting dinner," he smiled, taking the seat next to her.

"I was enjoying myself," she grinned, placing her napkin on her lap.

"Since when has having a good time ever stopped you from eating?" Harm leaned back slightly as the waiter placed a steaming plate of food in front of him.

"Maybe I’m not hungry for food?" Mac raised an eyebrow as she speared a roasted new potato the size of a large marble, placed it in her mouth, and very slowly slid the fork out from between her pursed lips.

Harm couldn’t help the grin that broke out across his face from ear to ear watching Mac’s oral mastery. "Make sure you leave room for dessert."

"Wouldn’t have it any other way, sailor," she smiled back.

After dinner, Harm and Mac danced to every ballad. Swaying to the music, wrapped in each other’s arms, was the closest thing to heaven on earth. Dancing, holding Mac, feeling her heart beat against his, felt like the most natural thing. Mac belonged in his arms. This much, Harm was finally sure of.

"Mac?"

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she stepped back slightly, "Yeah."

"Will you miss this when we go home?"

"Dancing?"

"Yes, no, not just the dancing, the whole thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"In Washington our jobs take up most of our lives, as you previously pointed out so clearly. There’s little time for friends and family. Having fun seems to be almost an afterthought. These people leave their work behind at the end of the day and make time for living life with their friends and family as easily as we make the time to run to the grocery store for a quart of milk."

"I agree, but most of the time, this doesn’t even seem real."

"What about us, Mac, is that real?"

"I didn’t mean us. How could you ask such a thing? I meant all the rest of this." Mac waved her arm across the splendor of the ballroom then put her hand back in Harm’s. "The only place I belong now is here in your arms, and I don’t ever want to lose that."

"We won’t, not now." He leaned in for a slow, light kiss that wouldn’t attract too much attention. Mac settled back into his shoulder as they continued to dance.

By the time the party had broken up at 4am, Harm and Mac were dead on their feet. After the last good-byes, and the drive home, it was another 45 minutes before Harm and Mac were finally alone in their room.

Kicking her shoes off, Mac watched them fly one at a time across the room. "I have never danced so much in my entire life! How the hell do these people do it?"

"Didn’t you see all those young kids? They start training for these parties while they’re still in diapers!"

Rubbing her eyes and yawning, "I don’t have the energy to even change, never mind take off all this makeup. Can you believe they wear all this stuff whenever there’s a party?"

"It is a bit much," Harm nodded. " But you are stunning, as a matter of fact a lot of those women looked much improved."

Mac threw the nearest pillow at him.

Harm had kicked off his shoes, undone his tie, and a few buttons on his shirt. He smiled at Mac, patting the bed next to where he had laid down.

"You realize if you have anything other than sleep on your mind you are SO out of luck tonight." She grinned, shaking her head as she walked closer to the bed settling down beside him.

"Mac, I’m almost 40 years old, I’ve been awake for 21 hours, dancing almost non stop for 8 of them, and I’ve lost count of how many drinks I’ve had. This is NOT the condition I want to be in the first time I make love to you."

Snuggling a little closer, with her eyes already closed, she yawned, "That’s nice."

The two of them immediately fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter 9

A/N: So far I have tried to keep the information about the guerillas and life in Colombia as accurate as possible. In this chapter I’ve taken a few literary liberties. The existence of the two main rebel groups and the paramilitary groups is not one of those liberties.

Mac woke up and stretched like a lazy cat. She hadn’t slept in late since she was a teenager, and even back then it wasn’t that common. Harm was still sleeping soundly, one arm wrapped around her. Debating whether or not she should wake him up, Mac decided to sneak out from under him to tackle removing all the day old make up she was wearing and take a quick shower.

A few minutes later, Harm shifted a bit in bed. Starting to wake, he recognized the sound of the shower running. Looking up at the clock he thought, ‘Wow – I guess we’d better get a move on it.’ Poking his head out the door of their room, he could tell by the total silence of the house that he and Mac were probably the first ones awake. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes again, he headed back towards the bathroom.

Stopping momentarily at the bathroom door, he looked up as if he could see through the door to the other side. A wide grin slowly spread across his face.

Hearing the door open and close, Mac called out. "Harm, I’m almost done, you should have enough hot…." Before she could finish her sentence a very naked Harmon Rabb Jr. had stepped into the shower beside her.

"I thought you might need someone to wash your back," he smiled.

Stunned, Mac just stood there, mouth open, staring into his sparkling green eyes. As if with a mind of it’s own, her right hand stretched outward giving Harm her back brush. Shifting places with Mac so the water was spraying on his back, Harm turned Mac around. He set the brush down on the tub and picked up the bar of soap. Lathering up his hands, he began covering Mac in suds. Starting with the top of her shoulders, slowly he massaged her swanlike neck, creating a creamy lather. His fingers gently kneading her soft skin before his hands moved down her back, sliding both his hands across either side of her, just barely touching her sides, and nipping the edges of her breasts. Though tempted to let his hands wander around her front and linger washing and caressing her fleshy peaks, he forced himself to continue the path down her back, making swirling motions with the lather, to her rounded six. Squatting down on his heels, he firmly rubbed her right ankle, working his way up h

Mac could barely hold her head up with the delicate caressing. Her limbs were turning to rubber. She could feel the warmth of his touch creating a fire within her, every motion of his skilled fingers, feeding the flame.

Almost stumbling as he turned her around and began the same lathering motions up the front of her leg and across to the other, Mac could feel the moisture of her desire pooling heavily between her legs, desperate for more of his touch.

Standing up, Harm reached for the soap to lather his hands again, and raised his hands slowly drawing soft circles around Mac’s hips and abdomen. Her muscles were so toned and hard, under such silky, soft skin. She was everything and more that he had ever imagined, and it took everything in him to focus completely on Mac and ignore the burning of his own rapidly growing desires.

As his hands moved up her front to reach her ample breasts, Mac let out a soft moan. The sound brought a small smile to Harm’s lips, and a twitch to his groin. Avoiding the temptation to pay more attention to her heaving breasts, or to suck in and savor the taught, dark nipple that was only inches away from his face until she screamed his name, Harm remained intent on the task at hand. All he wanted right now was to show his marine how much he loved her. Francisco’s words from weeks before echoed through his mind, ‘find ways to love her.’

Forcing his hands across her shoulders, delicately, he raised one arm and rubbed down to her wrist, gently soaping and massaging her hand, each finger one by one. Then, he gently put the one arm down and lifted the other arm, languishing it with the same slow, sensuous attention.

Mac had swayed once or twice, lost in the fabulous sensations that were pulsing through every fiber of her being. She didn’t know how she was still standing.

Just about finished with his initial assault on her senses, Harm turned Mac back towards the water and rinsed the soap off with the same slow sensual caresses he had used to apply the cleansing suds.

Despite her nearly hypnotic state, realization dawned that this was all very one sided. With tremendous effort to move her heavy limb, Mac reached over around Harm for the bar of soap. Grabbing her hand, he kissed the palm and said, "There won’t be enough hot water for that." Quickly, he washed up a few critical spots as Mac stood there in a heated daze. Rinsing off, he couldn’t resist leaning into her for just a small good morning kiss, suppressing the burning desire to ravage her where they stood.

As expected, the hot water was becoming very lukewarm. Harm turned the water off, and reached out for the towels. Stepping out before Mac, he held open a large bath sheet, and she slowly stepped into the towel. After delicately dabbing the drops from Mac’s toned body, Harm wrapped the large towel around her, and bent down for another soft kiss, resisting the urge to pull her fully into his arms.

Still wobbly on her legs, her insides burning with want, Mac stepped back, tucking a corner of the towel in front of her, she took the other towel from Harm.

Harmon Rabb was most definitely the perfect package. Unable to ignore his impressive arousal, with a glint in her eye, Mac’s voice came out soft and sultry, "We’d better dry you off before you catch pneumonia, sailor."

Gently she began to rub down his arms and back, amazed that she was now allowed to freely enjoy what she had so often dreamed of. As she slowly dried every inch of Harm’s dripping torso, they could hear the sound of human activity in the distance. Harm looked Mac in the eyes, all his efforts focused on controlling his desires, as every touch fanned the flames of his already blazing passion. His voice, scratchy and low, was barely above a whisper, "It sounds like our hosts are up."

"They’re making enough noise out there for an army." She said, pressing up against him, wrapping her arms, and the smaller towel, around Harm’s waist. Mac took a deep breath at the feel of his hardness pressing against her.

Unable to resist the call of her soft skin any longer, he leaned over and kissed Mac’s neck, reveling in her sweet taste, he mumbled, "Do you suppose something important is happening?"

"I suppose… we should…check." Mac finally managed to respond. The feel of his lips on her still damp skin was pushing her control to its limits.

"Do we have to?" Nibbling now on the other side of her neck, he began moving slowly down her shoulder. He’d shown enough restraint, he wanted this woman, badly.

"Probably…" She leaned her shoulder closer to him, praying her rubber legs would hold her upright just a little longer.

"I don’t want to stop again." Harm slid his hands around her waist as he continued kissing her bare shoulder. The need to be one with her was taking over his senses.

"Me neither…" Mac raised her arms around Harm’s shoulders.

The echoed sound of knocking on the door forced them out of their amorous stupor.

Taking deep breaths, Harm threw on his robe, and moved reluctantly to open the bedroom door.

Vilma stood there sleepily, still clad in what was left of last night’s hair and makeup. "Sorry to disturb you, but Antonio needs us right away in the living room."

"We’ll be right there."

Everyone was gathered in the living room. Except for Antonio, the group were all still in their robes. As the maid brought them all coffee, Antonio began, "We still have not heard more of the ransom, but Mono has heard from his informant."

Without realizing it, they had all moved to the edge of their seats. The sleepy haze that was so evident on Vilma’s and Francisco’s faces, was now replaced with sharp awareness. No signs were left of the passion that raged through Mac and Harm only moments ago, they were once again Commander and Colonel.

"It seems they have split up more of the French tourists. Several have been taken up into the jungle. Eight of the tourists, four couples including the Gentilles, were left in the village. The informer thinks the ones left behind are the ones with a ransom in the works. We have what appears to be an unusual break. Each couple has been left in the care of a host family. Only two guerilla soldiers have been left behind to supervise."

"This doesn’t follow the pattern in our files," Harm commented.

"No, not at all. Usually, locals try not to get involved. If they assist the guerrillas they are in risk of being murdered by the paramilitary. The paramilitary has become as big a problem as the guerillas. This vigilante group viciously murders anyone they believe to be aiding or sympathizing with the guerillas. Unfortunately, hearsay is enough evidence for them. Too many innocent people are slaughtered every day. People are as afraid of the paramilitary as they are of the guerillas."

"So you’re saying this can work to our advantage?" Mac asked.

"Exactly. The locals do not want to be responsible for kidnapped foreigners for fear of the paramilitary. They do not dare rebel against the guerillas for fear of retaliation by the same guerillas. This puts us in an excellent position to take these captives ‘off the townspeople’s hands’ with their cooperation."

Antonio continued, "We have put together a small rescue squad. For a fee sufficient enough to fund relocating to another village far enough away from guerilla retaliation, the host families have agreed to look the other way when we come into town."

"Is there such a place?" Harm asked.

"Yes, they will go to Barranquilla in Atlantico. There, Mono will take charge of setting them up. As you know from your research, the guerilla group FARC controls this part of the country. If we relocate them to Atlantico on the northern coast where the ELN is in control, they should be safe."

Harm and Mac noticed Francisco move his arm around his wife. Without the help of her father none of this would be possible. Harm winced recalling how he scoffed at the Vice President’s choice to trust only this man.

"The informant has agreed to drug the guerilla soldier’s food in exchange for asylum in the US. Your man ‘Gunny’ is arranging for this as we speak. We have received a detailed map of the village. Each of the prisoner’s locations has been clearly marked. Speed is very important – we don’t know how long the guerillas will leave the village so lightly guarded. If guerilla reinforcements arrive, our plan will be aborted."

Antonio glanced up at his audience. "We leave in 30 minutes, Commander. Can you and the Colonel be ready?"

"Wait a minute" Francisco interjected. "I know Harm and Sarah are qualified military in the US, but I’m not so sure taking them through the jungle roads of Boyaca is the best of ideas."

"We will not be on the roads, we will be dropped at this location here." Antonio moved the map to show a spot to Harm and Mac. "From there we will move by foot to the village, attracting as little attention as possible. A vehicle will be waiting at the village to help bring the prisoners closer to the pick up point, since we do not believe they are in any condition to trek the entire way on foot. Not to mention, at that point time becomes our enemy."

Francisco didn’t appear convinced of the sanity of this idea. He knew Harm and Mac were experienced military, but he was having a hard time thinking of them as anything other than his American houseguests whom he should be protecting.

Harm looked up at Francisco, "We’ve done this sort of thing before. Mac’s a marine." Harm caught her grinning out of one side of her mouth. "This is what she is trained for. I survived the jungles of Vietnam at sixteen. We’ll follow Antonio’s orders carefully and won’t take any unnecessary chances. We’ll be back for dinner." Harm patted Francisco on the shoulder as he and Mac turned back towards their room.

"Here." Stretching out his arm, Antonio handed Harm two handguns. "You’ll be needing these."

Harm and Mac stepped into the living room. Francisco stood up to wish them well, coming to a sudden stop when his eyes settled on Mac. His mind knew she was a Marine, but now, he believed it. Gone were the fashionably attractive outfits she had been wearing. Standing there in full camouflage with sidearms, Mac looked every bit the military soldier. Harm thanked Francisco and Vilma, as did Mac. "Remember, we’ll be home for dinner," Harm smiled.

"God be with you" Vilma and Francisco chorused. "God be with you."

The drop had gone off without a hitch. The squad consisted of four men in addition to Antonio. At first they had seemed somewhat apprehensive at the sight of Mac. None of them had ever worked with a woman before and they were none to happy to start now. Once the drop was complete, and it was clear to everyone that Mac was not in need of babysitting, Mac quickly became just another one of the guys.

The hike to the village was not nearly as long as Harm and Mac had anticipated. ‘So far so good,’ they thought. The squad positioned themselves around the perimeter of the village. Antonio called the informant by radio. The status of the sleeping guards was confirmed.

Antonio remained in his location just looking over the village. From his vantage point he could radio anyone in the rest of the squad at the slightest hint of a problem. Harm and Mac were going after the Gentilles. Three of the other men were dispersed to the other homes to retrieve the remaining six prisoners. The fourth man in the group was already positioning himself by the getaway vehicle.

As they had been promised, each of the four homes was found unlocked and empty, except for the prisoners. Mac and Harm rushed in the front door where the Gentilles were being held with guns drawn. Spotting the couple tied together on the floor of their prison with a horrific look of panic on their hollow faces, Mac quickly announced, "it’s okay, you’re dad sent us- but we need to book it." In each of the other homes the French prisoners were also quickly untied and escorted to the getaway vehicle. Despite the minor communication challenges of convincing the French this was a rescue, not another march further into the jungle, it took less than 10 minutes until they were all safely in the vehicle and on their way down the road. Fifteen minutes later they were in the waiting chopper and flying over the hills.

Looking down, Antonio called over to Harm, pointing at something in the distance. "Looks like God was on our side."

Following the direction Antonio was pointing in, Harm saw a convoy of vehicles coming down the same road they had just left. It was heading towards the village.

"Who is that?" Harm asked.

"That is the guerilla cavalry. I knew once this chopper was spotted landing, they’d know what was up and have reinforcements out." Looking up at Harm, he now had a better understanding of the American expression ‘if looks could kill.’ "We didn’t see any need to worry you with small details," Antonio commented matter of factly.

Harm just shook his head. This guy would have made a great CIA agent. He wondered if ‘small details’ was the Colombian way of saying ‘need to know.’ He looked over at Mac on the other side of the chopper trying to help the rescued Frenchmen. At least this time it all went according to plan. Maybe Antonio could give Webb a few pointers.

The eight French citizens were unceremoniously delivered to the French Embassy. Once inside, despite her weakened condition, Mrs. Gentille insisted on phoning her children, and then her father, before allowing the embassy physician to look her over. The Vice President said he would inform Admiral Chegwidden of the situation. Harm didn’t think the Vice President would ever stop saying thank you. It was quickly agreed by all, the Gentilles would be returning to France.

Vilma and Francisco had spent the better part of the day pacing the apartment. They had considered going to the club for lunch, but they simply didn’t want to pretend all was well.

When the doorbell rang they both practically jumped out of their skins. It was a race to the front door. Vilma won. Flinging the door open, she threw herself at Harm and Mac still standing on the other side.

"Vilmita, at least let them inside, then you can strangle them," Francisco said pulling his wife away from the door to let his friends in.

Despite their exhaustion, Harm and Mac were still on an adrenaline high. Vilma clapped her hands, "All right you two, off to the showers. Put on some decent clothes and dinner will be waiting."

In their room Mac rummaged through her luggage. "You’d better go first, I think they’re expecting us back quickly."

Harm pulled Mac close to him and settled a soft kiss on her lips. "You’re right. I wish you weren’t, but I’ll be right back." He patted her six as he walked past her to the bathroom.

By the time Mac returned to the living room, Claudia and Jack had arrived. Hugs and congratulations went around the room when Vilma ordered everyone into the dining room. Harm and Francisco had been huddled in the opposite corner of the living room in soft-spoken conversation. ‘Odd,’ she thought. ‘Don’t be silly. It’s probably just war stories’, she told herself.

As usual the two older sons were out at some party or other. The youngest was expected back after dinner. Between school and their social lives, Harm and Mac had barely spent any time at all with the boys.

Gathered into the dining room, they enjoyed a quiet family dinner. The meal was absolutely delicious as usual. It was the dessert that had Mac’s mouth watering tonight. Some merrengon ake, typical of this part of the country, made with meringue like egg whites and various berries. Mac wasn’t sure which she loved more, this or the strawberries and cream. There was something about the thick cream here that tasted absolutely sinful. Vilma had made sure both were available tonight.

After dinner they moved into the living room. Amparo and Rodolfo arrived as Francisco opened a bottle of champagne. Harm had a glass to be polite. Francisco surprised Mac when he handed her a champagne glass with ginger ale. When Mac smiled at Francisco, he actually blushed at the sincere gratitude in her eyes. The music was playing and the laughter began to fill the room.

Not much time had passed when Francisco pulled Harm aside. A few minutes later Harm walked over to Mac, leaned into her, and whispered in her ear, "Come with me a minute, please."

Harm extended his hand to her. Mac followed him down the front hall holding his hand. As they reached the door she couldn’t help wondering, what was Harm up to? When the door opened, three mariachis began to play. She looked over at Harm who was grinning from ear to ear like that proverbial Cheshire cat. She turned around and noticed the entire household had followed behind, even the maid. They were all standing in the hall, grinning as wide as Harm was.

After the first song for Mac was finished, everyone turned back towards the living room. The musicians, already playing a second tune, strolled into the house following the crowd. Mac was speechless. Harm put his arms around her waist pulling her back against his chest. Looking over her shoulder at everyone in the living room, he whispered into her ear, "I love you, here and everywhere."

Mac could feel the tears fighting to come out. It took all her strength not to cry like a baby. She leaned back against Harm and whispered, "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Harm turned her around to face him. "Dance with me?"

The couple started dancing in the hallway, oblivious to the smiles around the living room. Harm and Mac couldn’t stop staring into each other’s eyes. "I love you too, you know," Mac smiled.

"I had hoped so."

"Don’t ever doubt it."

He gave her a very chaste kiss, unaware all eyes in the room were still on them.

By the time the Mariachis had left, Mac was sitting on the sofa snuggled up against Harm. Even though it was only 2340, Claudia and Jack excused themselves for the night. Amparo and Rodolfo followed their lead, bidding everyone a good night and pleasant dreams. Francisco and Vilma turned to Harm and Mac. "It’s been a long day." Francisco said. " I think we should call it an early night."

After hugging each other good night, the success of the mission still charging the air, they each retired to their rooms.

A/N: Due to my lack of knowledge in military detail, I made the rescue scene short with no surprises. If you are interested in learning more about this type of situation, the movie Proof Of Life with Russell Crowe has an excellent director’s cut version on the dvd. It accurately explains in detail the guerilla problem in Colombia. The character Antonio Quintero is based on a real person who I am told is very much like the character Russell Crow portrayed.

Closing the door behind them, Harm watched Mac as she crossed the room and collapsed on the bed.

"You know, after all we’ve been through today, I should be exhausted, but I’m not." Mac lifted her head slightly towards Harm.

"You realize, now that this is over, we’ll probably receive our travel orders tomorrow? This could be our last night here." Walking towards the bed, Harm tried to read Mac’s reaction.

"Did you mean what you said? About here and everywhere?" Mac asked softly, so softly Harm almost didn’t hear her.

"I meant every word. I love you, Sarah Mackenzie. I always have, I always will, no matter what continent we’re on."

Mac chuckled at the thought that they were indeed on another continent. So like Rabb to bring that up. By now, Harm had kicked his shoes off and snuggled up next to Mac on the bed.

Mac turned slightly to rest her head on Harm’s chest. She had gotten very used to having him to snuggle up to in bed.

"Mac, I’ve been thinking."

"Don’t do that, sailor. You might hurt yourself."

"Funny, Mac," Harm tried to glare at her but it was futile. He couldn’t help but break out in a grin. "I’d like to tell the admiral as soon as we get home that there’s been a change in our relationship. I want to be able to… date you openly, like we have been here."

"It will mean some changes for us at work. It might even involve transfers." Mac shifted slightly to see his eyes.

"I don’t care where we work, as long as I come home to you." He tightened his grip on her.

Harm’s feelings were out in the open. Nothing was hidden anymore. No need for interpretation, no chance of miscommunications. They were finally both on the same page at the same time.

Mac leaned up slightly, Harm bent over a little closer, their eyes drawn to each other like magnets. They were frozen only inches apart from each other. Harm glanced at Mac’s lips just as her tongue slipped out to moisten them. ‘There should be a law against having such sexy lips,’ he thought.

Suddenly, they were wrapped in each other’s embrace. Their lips were locked in a searing kiss. Harm couldn’t get close enough to Mac. His hands roamed freely across her soft skin. One hand had made its way under her shirt, gently kneading her breast, barely teasing around her already erect nipple. His other hand tangled in her silky hair.

Gripping Harm as tightly as she could, her hands ran up and down his back, stopping only to dip her fingers in the waistband of his slacks. Every time she did, Harm had to remind himself to breathe.

Feeling the need for oxygen, Harm broke the kiss and began nibbling his way down her neck. Reaching for the hem of her shirt, he slowly slid the garment up. The feel of his fingers brushing against her soft skin sent rockets of desire shooting through his entire system.

Pausing from her eager exploration of Harm’s strong body, Mac lifted her arms to help with the clothing’s removal. Laying her hands back down on his hard, flat stomach, she slowly began to roll his shirt up his expansive chest, dragging her fingers across his cool flesh. Lingering momentarily to twirl the soft hair that caressed his toned muscles, she finally, pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it across the room.

Wrapping one arm around Mac, Harm easily unsnapped her bra while his mouth resumed its mission on her neck. Removing the offending garment, his free hand returned to kneading her now exposed breasts. Overwhelmed at the luscious feel of skin on skin, Harm began a trail of hot wet kisses, moving his mouth down her front, before latching onto an unattended breast.

Nothing could prevent Mac’s soft moan from escaping at the feel of his moist lips wrapping around her flesh, her back arching closer to him, heaving her breast deeper into his mouth’s deliciously warm cavern.

Harm could feel the desperate need inside of him growing. He wanted so badly to be surrounded by Sarah MacKenzie, but he had waited so long for this day, he wasn’t going to rush this. He was going to show Sarah how much he loved her, in every way possible.

So lost in the wild sensations spiraling through her body as Harm licked and sucked on her sensitive nipples, Mac never noticed his hand brushing down her body, and settling between her dark curls. When his fingers slipped between her fold, teasing her throbbing nub, she thought she would come out of her skin. When he slid one, then two fingers deep inside her, his mouth now focused on her other breast, Mac couldn’t help the low throaty growl that emerged from deep within her as Harm continued the tortuous friction until her body was writhing beneath him.

Mac was panting in ecstasy as Harm continued to play her body, extending the waves of her orgasm as long as possible. Her entire body was in heaven, and Lord help her, she wanted more. She wanted to feel Harmon Rabb deep inside her, to feel him explode inside her. Reaching for his already rock solid erection, Mac shifted her weight, forcing Harm to roll over. Her lips descended feverishly on his, while her hands began masterfully stroking him, teasing his already oozing tip.

Harm had almost come just from watching Mac’s face as she flew over the edge, but now he was almost frantic. Her touch was bordering on torture as every nerve ending was screaming with excitement. He needed to be inside her, and he needed that now.

Reaching blindly towards the nightstand, Harm grabbed the foil packet, his fingers fumbling anxiously. Pulling away from her burning kiss, he awkwardly grabbed the wrist that was slowly turning him inside-out with desire.

"Mac, I need you, now!" he managed through ragged breaths, "I have to know."

"Oh, God… yes...PLEASE…Now." She could barely get the words out, her own fires once again burning out of control.

Quickly donning the much-discussed protection, Harm almost exploded at the feel of Mac’s fingers rolling the covers down his throbbing shaft. Turning her over on her back with almost violent force, Harm positioned himself over her. "God, I need you!" Harm gasped before his lips came crashing down on hers.

Feeling the pressure of his tip gently requesting access to her heated core, Mac felt another bolt of electricity surge through her. She never in her life imagined even Harmon Rabb could fill her so fully with such intense pleasure.

Sliding into the warmth of Sarah MacKenzie, Harm was finally coming home.

"Oh Sarah!" It took every ounce of discipline he had to take it slow. He had never felt anything like this. This is what he had longed for all those years, all those women. This was more than sex. This was love, the joining of hearts and souls. This was where he belonged. They were truly bound as one. He could never live again without Sarah Mackenzie, and he knew it.

Sarah knew it too. This was more than she had ever dreamed of, more than she could ever have hoped for. She understood now, Harm was her other half. Without him she could never again be whole.

The pace of their love making increasing, Harm knew he couldn’t hold back much longer. Gently he stroked one sensitive spot he had previously discovered and filed away, and within moments he could feel her coiling around him. Her legs tightening around his waist, her fingers pressing into his back, she cried out his name. Hearing her call his name in the throes of passion was more than he could stand. Harm gasped in a final moment of ecstasy.

Totally satisfied and exhausted, they cuddled up against each other. Neither willing to let go of the other.

"I love you, Sarah."

"I love you, too."

The two new lovers drifted off to sleep, for now.

Harm was the first to wake up. He stared down at Mac’s sleeping form. She had rolled over on her side, and he was spooned up beside her, amazed she was finally sharing his bed, in every way. Just looking at her beauty, he could feel his arousal growing. Sensing his eyes on her, Mac began to stir. Soon she could feel more than his eyes on her.

Their hunger for each other was insatiable. Despite the intensity of the previous night, it still wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Their lips mingling in another duel of desire. They fondled, kissed and caressed, making slow, tender love until they were once again calling each other’s names in the throes of passion.

Hearing the rumble of Mac’s stomach, Harm chuckled loudly.

"What is so funny, haven’t you ever been hungry? Especially after a work out like we’ve had." Mac protested.

"Yes, I get hungry, and NO, I don’t usually have work outs like that. I don’t think I’ve ever…experienced anything even close to last night before in my life." Harm flashed his flyboy grin.

"Me neither, thank you," Mac let out a contented sigh.

"Thank you Sarah, thank you for loving me."

"Always, sailor, always." Her lips covered his in another gentle caress.

Once again Mac’s stomach grumbled loudly. Harm patted Mac’s rear end. "I think we’d better get up and get you fed."

Still in their robes they wandered into the dining room for breakfast. Vilma and Francisco were just getting up to leave for the office.

"Good Morning, you two." Vilma smiled. "We’re off to work, we’ll be back for lunch. Take the morning to relax, stay in bed if you want." Vilma’s smile kept getting bigger and bigger – she had to know.

"I’m sure Juan will have news for you today. Ciao." Vilma and Francisco scurried out the door. It wasn’t really clear if they were in such a hurry to get to work or in such a hurry to leave the lovebirds alone.

Pulling out a chair for Mac in the dining room, Harm paused to look out the window at the lovely view. "You know Mac, she’s right. We’ll most likely get our orders to go home today."

"It’s probably not safe for us to be hanging around here too long," Mac said, pouring Harm and herself a glass of juice.

"The Gentilles should be on their way home this morning, no matter what shape they’re in. They’ll be prime vengeance targets by now, sticking around would be suicide." Harm stood there, still gazing somewhere in the distance.

Mac watched Harm looking out the window. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Coming back to the moment, Harm sat down in the chair next to Mac. Reaching over, he casually took her left hand in his, something he’d enjoyed doing over the last few weeks. "I don’t want this to end."

Not exactly sure what ‘this’ Harm was referring to, "You really like it here, don’t you?" she said rather timidly.

"Well, yes, but I meant us." Noticing a slight look of panic in Mac’s eyes, Harm quickly continued. "I don’t think I’ll be able to stand not having you near me all the time. Not being able to do this," Harm held up their joined hands, "anytime I want because of regs. Or this," he leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose.

Mac couldn’t help but giggle at that.

"What’s so funny, marine?"

"I love you, too." A small smile replaced her panicked look. Her stomach was once again churning loudly.

"I know, I know. Hungry marine needs food." Harm groaned.

"We thought for sure you were going to have to leave on the next flight out." Claudia’s English had really come a long way since Harm and Mac first arrived. "We were delighted when Vilma informed us your CO ordered you to stay on."

"It was decided if we left too suddenly after the rescue, someone might suspect we were part of it and retaliate against you, or other Americans living here. Even though the odds of that were slim, it was too great a risk to take," Harm explained.

"Whatever the reason, we’re so glad you could enjoy your last days in Colombia without the horror of terrorism hanging over your head."

Mac and Harm turned to look at each other. Obviously they were both thinking the same thing. Every single person in this room, either had been, or knew someone whose life had been directly affected by the guerillas in one way or another. With armored cars, bodyguards, and all the other security trappings of day to day life in Colombia, how could anyone ever feel the horror of terrorism wasn’t hanging over them? Still, they all laughed and danced and carried on. They would not let terror win.

"It’s hard to believe we’ll be in DC again tomorrow." Mac looked wistfully out the patio doors.

"And back to work at 0800 Monday morning," Harm chimed in.

Just then Jack came over. "Excuse us a minute, I need my wife to help me explain something to Mrs. Botero. That woman may be beautiful, but when they came up with the cliché ‘not the sharpest knife in the drawer,’ they most definitely had her in mind." He shook his head, obviously amused, escorting his wife to the other side of the room.

Harm took advantage of being momentarily alone to steer Mac towards the deck. The view tonight was as exquisite as it had been the first night they visited. Walking up to the railing hand in hand, Mac sighed at the sight before her. Harm pulled Mac around in front of him, her back to his chest, so he was looking over her shoulder at the view, his arms wrapped around her stomach. He loved holding her this way.

"Mac, I’ve been thinking."

Mac leaned back a little more onto Harm.

"What about?"

"Well, I know we agreed we need to talk to the Admiral when we get back on Monday." He paused a moment to kiss the top of her head. "Maybe we need to reconsider what we’re going to tell him."

At this, Mac turned around to face Harm. Her first instincts were to panic that he was about to turn around and run like a Jackrabbit, but things were different now, they had to be. She took a deep breath, "And that would be…?"

"We have spent the better part of every day and night together since we left Washington. I’ve gotten used to you being the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I see at night. I’ve learned what it means to have found my other half. I can’t go back to Washington and just start dating. I need you in my life, all the way, all the time."

Harm took Mac’s left hand in his, and reached into his jacket pocket. "Sarah MacKenzie, would you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Sarah Rabb, my wife, and make my life whole?" Harm held the most beautiful ring in front of Macs left hand. The center stone was a 3-carat square cut emerald surrounded by small diamonds.

Mac looked up at Harm in stunned silence. Finally, she nodded her head yes as a single tear slipped down her cheek.

Harm slid the ring on her finger. "I know diamonds alone are the traditional engagement ring, but I wanted to give you something that would always remind you of the beauty of our love, and the beauty of this country where we first declared it."

Vilma, Francisco, Jack, Claudia, and the rest of the guests all stood silently from the edge of the living room watching the proposal. As Harm bent down to kiss his new fiancée, sighs could be heard throughout the room. Several couples, who had merely been standing side by side, were now holding hands. Francisco leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek. "As always dear, you were right."

When Mac moved her arms around Harm’s neck to deepen the kiss, the guests in the living room started to part like Moses had the Red Sea. A few coughs and ugghms were heard as the guests resumed their laughing and dancing, giving the young lovers a little privacy in the moonlight.

Only Francisco, Vilma, Jack and Claudia remained watching the couple. "I hope they are as happy as we have been all these years." Vilma whispered.

Francisco kissed his wife softly on the lips, "They will be dear, they will be."

Coming up for air, Mac took a short breath, "Harm."

"Mmmn?" he answered nibbling on her ear.

"When did you get this ring?"

"Yesterday afternoon." He nibbled a little more, eliciting a soft moan from Mac. "When I went out with Francisco to pick up the dry cleaning, we made a small detour."

"So, Francisco knows about this?" she said trying to keep her wits about her.

"Mmn, and Vilma, and I guess probably Jack and Claudia," Harm managed to get out between nibbles.

"And …that would also…. mean Amparo, and ….Harm?!" Mac suddenly stiffened.

"Mmn?" Harm had stopped nibbling on the one ear and was now working his way across her neck to her bare shoulder.

"How much do you want to bet we have an audience?" Mac said, relaxing again at Harm’s continued assault on her senses.

"Nah, why would anyone want to watch an old sailor propose to a marine?"

"I’m glad it’s finally safe enough to bring you kids to Colombia. It was a great idea of Aunt Vilma’s to have a joint anniversary party." Mac commented walking toward the rail.

"So this is the famous porch that Dad proposed on?"

"It’s not a porch, it’s a deck," Harm declared, as he sat down next to his son.

"Porch, deck same thing. Basically, all Dad needs for romance is wood planks underneath his feet."

"Matt, don’t pick on your Dad," Mac admonished her nineteen-year-old son.

"According to the stories you two tell, first it was Uncle AJ’s porch, and then it was here on Uncle Jack’s porch that everything really took off."

"It’s a deck," Harm repeated.

"Matt’s right mom." Their middle child, seventeen year old Patricia, who went by Pat, agreed.

"Besides, you and Dad have spent every night for as long as I can remember sitting on the front porch, holding hands, and making out like a couple of teenagers," Matt insisted.

"MATT." Francie, the fifteen-year-old baby girl of the family huffed at her big brother. "They aren’t THAT bad. Well, not really, anyway."

Several of Vilma and Francisco’s grandchildren were on the porch with the Rabbs, but it was Abel’s fifteen-year-old son, Ernesto, who spoke up. "Well, obviously this all means something to you, but does anyone care to bring the rest of us up to speed?"

"Sure." Matt started. "I’ll try."

"Better make it the Readers Digest version," Pat scoffed.

Matt glared at his sister. "As I was about to say, Mom and Dad worked together for about 4 or 5 years when Mom got engaged to some Australian."

"Mic Brumby," Pat mumbled.

"You said you wanted the extra abridged version. Do YOU want to tell this?"

"No, go on."

"Anyhow, Mom was going to marry this Australian when Dad got brave at her engagement party and made a pass at her on uncle AJ’s porch."

"It wasn’t a pass," Harm interjected.

"Whatever. Mom was still going to marry the Aussie until Dad’s plane crashed. She saved him with her sort of psychic powers, the wedding was postponed, the Aussie left, Dad’s girlfriend married a mortician, and then a couple of years later they got stranded together in…, was it Afghanistan? Yeah Afghanistan, then Dad rescued Mom in Paraguay. Did I mention Mom kept chasing Dad to Russia?"

By now Ernesto’s face was so contorted in confusion that Pat decided she needed to take over.

"What Matt is so eloquently trying to explain is: Dad and Mom worked together for years. They were really close and trusted each other in everything. Unfortunately for a lot of different reasons- mostly ludicrous ones- they never got together romantically, until they came here to Uncle Jack’s and Aunt Claudia’s. That was the first time Dad had REALLY kissed Mom since the night on the Admiral’s porch. They had been here to help rescue the Vice President’s daughter from terrorists. By the time the whole ordeal was over, the two of them couldn’t live without each other, and their last night in Bogota, Dad proposed here on Uncle Jacks porch."

"With half the city watching," Harm added. "And it’s a deck."

The fogged look on Ernesto’s face was starting to clear.

"Married life must have been a pretty boring change?" Ernesto almost mumbled.

The three Rabb children snickered. Mac and Harm appropriately glared at their indiscreet o