Title: Dancing in the Dark

Author: manette

Disclaimers: All things JAG belong to DPB and Paramount

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: Harm/Mac story that takes place after ATW but was written before ATW2

Dancing in the Dark

Prologue-

He only comes to me at night—long after I should be asleep. But he knows that I rarely sleep much, and now I never want to close my eyes at all. I lie awake and wait—hoping this will be the night he comes to me again—once more in the darkness.

The Story-

The visits started after we returned from Paraguay. I had been so sure that the Admiral would welcome him back to Jag with open arms. After all, he had rescued me, and Webb, and the CIA’s lousy mission—

But nothing in my life made sense anymore, including the fact that everyday when I went to work Commander Harmon Rabb’s office remained dark and empty.

He’d started working with the CIA, but I couldn’t bring myself to think that it was permanent. The earth was spinning uneasily on its axis knowing that Harm was not part of the Navy, and I just wanted—no, I ached—for things to be the way they used to be.

The first time he showed up unexpectedly I had been tossing and turning for hours, wrestling with my blankets as if they were responsible for all that was wrong in my world. It was after two in the morning, and I almost didn’t hear the knock on my front door. Feeling modest enough in my flannel pajamas and bare feet, I stumbled out of my bedroom without turning on the lights and was surprised when I looked through the peep hole, to see him standing in my hallway. My heart jumped shamelessly at the welcome sight of him. He was dressed all in black, and he came in hurriedly when I opened the door. Walking quickly to my window, he checked the street as if he feared he might have been followed, and only then did he turn to me.

“I was hoping you would still be awake.” He offered a tense smile as an apology.

“What’s wrong?” I asked resisting the inexplicable urge to hug him. “Why are you here?”

“Nothing’s wrong—I just needed to see you. We’ve barely talked since we got home from Paraguay.” He wandered over to one end of my couch and sat down. I plopped down on the other end and pulled my feet up under me.

“It’s the middle of the night, Harm--kind of a strange time for a visit.” It was true. We had barely talked. He had been whisked away and caught up in this CIA job almost as soon as our plane touched down. I had a million questions, but his absence had made me shy. He seemed harder, darker, and more dangerous than the man who had been my partner for seven years.

“Ah—but I’m in the spy business now. We operate while the rest of the world sleeps.” His tone was mocking. “The truth is I just finished an ‘assignment’, and I had an overpowering urge to see you.” He laughed a little as if the admission cost him something, but his voice was husky, and his face was hidden in the shadows when he said quietly, “I should’ve stayed away, but I’ve missed you, Mac.”

He sounded tired and a little lost.

I hesitated then said, “I’ve missed you too, Harm.”

The only light in the room came from the streetlights outside the window. Darkness enveloped us as he closed the distance between us on the sofa and cupped my cheek with his hand. His eyes studied my face as if he needed to relearn it, and then he kissed me.

Softly—sweetly—gently—completely.

And then he was whispering broken words as he nuzzled my hair and crushed me against him. “My days are all wrong without you, Mac. Just let me hold you for a while. I need to hold you.”

I was a willing prisoner. His arms captured me, aligning me so that I was stretched out across his chest. My legs tangled with his and my bare toes scraped his denim covered shins. His hands smoothed my hair from my face and traveled down my flannel covered back. His lips grazed my temple before moving from my check and on to my neck. I inhaled his closeness, and held on for dear life.

I didn’t question why he was there or what it might mean. I didn’t want to examine his motives or mine—I just wanted to learn by heart how it felt to be buried in his arms.

The tension in his body seemed to ease when I welcomed his embrace, and I relaxed too for the first time in weeks as he cradled me in his arms. He seemed content to simply hold me, and slowly I drifted off to sleep using his body as an anchor—a mooring that put my world back on an even keel at least for one night.

I woke up the next morning alone and in my bed instead of on the couch. I’d been disappointed but not completely surprised to find Harm gone. There had been an air of desperation about him that he would have been uncomfortable showing in the light of day. But I vowed that the next time I saw him, I would make him talk to me. The guilt I felt about what he had sacrificed was enormous, and I wanted him to reassure me that he had made the right choice by accepting this new job. He had thrown away everything he loved, and nothing about that felt right.

Attempts to contact him had been futile. I’d left a few messages at his apartment and on his cell phone, but I never heard from him. And apparently, no one at the CIA thought I had a ‘need to know’ when it came to the whereabouts of Harmon Rabb, Jr.

Days and long nights dragged by, and I heard nothing. I started thinking that his visit had been a dream—some kind of pathetic unfulfilled fantasy—the imaginings of a lonely woman. I dragged myself through my workdays making an effort to lose myself in court cases—searching for that passion for the law that had sustained me through the years. But these days all my passion seemed to be reserved for one man alone. And he was nowhere to be found. I ran for miles every evening trying to exhaust my body so that I could fall into some sort of sleep, but my mind wouldn’t rest and each night I relived the brand of his touch, the echo of his murmured words.

And still I hadn't heard a single word from Harm.

I finally convinced myself that it was best if he stayed away from me. I would always be an unwelcome reminder of the life he had left behind. And we couldn’t turn back the clock and recapture what we’d had, so the best thing for both of us was to move on with our separate lives. Someday I hoped to believe that. I’d drifted off to sleep hoping not to dream at all, praying if I did that it wouldn’t be of Harm.

That night I woke up suddenly—startled to find myself surrounded by a large, warm body. He must have used his key to get in when I hadn’t answered the door. I shivered thinking that he must have watched me sleep before stripping down to his boxers and slipping into my bed. Though he was asleep, he seemed restless and troubled. He held me tightly and mumbled a protest as I turned to face him. I studied his beautiful unshaven face in the half light of the bedroom. Even in slumber he looked worn out. I longed to soothe away the weariness, and so I touched him while he slept, hoping my gentle fingers would alleviate the coiled tension that radiated from his skin. I ran my fingers across his bare chest and up his neck. I brushed my lips across his brow and tangled my fingers in his hair.

I knew the exact moment when he woke up. His body went from tense to rigid in a matter of seconds, and I found myself flat on my back with my arms pinned above my head.

Cold flat eyes that didn’t know me bored into mine and a harsh, menacing voice demanded in the darkness. “Tell me who you are before I kill you.”

Part two

“Harm,” I gasped as his weight drove me into the mattress.

His forearm came down on my throat, and I began to struggle in earnest. “Harm, stop,” I whispered again clawing at his arm with my loose hand. “It’s me, Mac.”

Recognition slowly crept into his eyes, only to be replaced by horror at what he had done.

“Oh, god, Mac.” He released me and rolled away with his back to me. He sat on the side of the bed with his head hanging down, breathing loudly and struggling for control.

I crawled over to him and put my hand on his back. He glanced at me and then dragged me up beside him and buried his face in my neck.

“I’m sorry.” He pulled back to look at me. “Did I hurt you?” His hands ran up and down my arms and across my throat.

“You didn’t hurt me, Harm.” My heart was still about to pound out of my chest. “But what just happened? You scared me to death.”

“I just threatened to kill you,” he said with disgust. “That’s what happened.”

“Obviously, you didn’t know it was me.”

“If I’d woken up in bed with a woman a month ago I don’t think that would have been my reaction.” He moved away from me, stood up and started gathering his clothes. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Don’t do this, Harm.” I jumped off the bed and grabbed his arm. “I want you to stay here and explain to me what’s going on. How did everything about our lives get so mixed up in such a short amount of time?”

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “The only thing I can tell you is that I’m trying to get things back on track, and for now, doing this job is the only way I know to do that.” He pushed his legs into his jeans and threw on his shirt without buttoning it while he looked for his socks and shoes.

“At what cost?” I demanded.

“Everything has a cost, Mac.”

“That’s not an answer, Harm. I need to know why in the world you are working for the CIA. Have you even talked to the Admiral about coming back to Jag? Help me understand this. No one has given me a straight answer since I’ve been home. Not the Admiral. Not Webb. Not even you. I can accept it from them, but not from you.” I was ranting, but I couldn’t stop.

Suddenly he looked so defeated, and I realized how that must have sounded considering all that he had given up for me. I quickly added, “Harm, I owe you my life, but you owe me something too. You can’t just show up in the middle of the night whenever you feel like it and then disappear for weeks at a time. I’m worried about you all the time, and I want to kill you the rest.”

He sank down onto the side of the bed and just stared at the floor.

I pleaded with him. “You’ve got to give me a way to live with this.”

Finally he looked up and asked, “Do you have anything to eat? I’m starving.”

At least he wasn’t running out the door. I let out the breath I had been holding and asked, “How about a peanut butter sandwich?”

“With honey?” His smile was tired but sweet.

“I think I can manage that.”

He followed me into the kitchen and buttoned his shirt while he watched me make his food.

“Do you want some tea?” I asked.

“Sure, tea would be great.”

I put the kettle on while he poured himself a glass of milk. We carried the food out to the dining room table and sat down.

“When is the last time you ate?” I asked as I watched him wolf down the sandwich.

“Yesterday morning,” he admitted before downing half of his glass of milk.

“I’ll make you another one, but it’s going to cost you.”

“I’ll tell you what I can, Mac. You deserve that much.” He seemed more resigned than happy about it.

I got up and made him another sandwich and finished making the tea. When I sat back down I said. “Ok, talk to me.”

He closed his eyes and said, “You know I made a deal with the CIA so they would help me find you.”

“Yes, and when we took out the stinger missiles and flushed out the mole that deal should have been fulfilled.”

“Well, they don’t quite see it that way.”

“Harm, they used both of us to do their dirty work and that should be the end of it. You need to talk to the Admiral about coming back to JAG. It’s where you belong.”

“When we blew up those missiles it stirred up a hornet’s nest.”

“I’m not surprised. That’s the nature of those kinds of operations. You shut them down in one place and they crop up somewhere else. What does that have to do with you?”

“Well, you know Gunny stayed in Paraguay when we came home.” I nodded and he continued. “One of his contacts, a woman named Esmelda, worked at a local manufacturing and distributing company. They had a warehouse out in the middle of nowhere that had a small run down airstrip attached to it. The warehouse was being used to store counterfeit knock offs—cds, watches, even designer purses and shoes- before they shipped them off to other countries to be sold. Then the money from the sales would be funneled back into the terrorist organization by sending money to P.O. boxes set up by dummy corporations. From there the money could be wired anywhere overseas in a matter of minutes.” He paused to take a sip of tea.

“An increase in activity at that airstrip made the CIA particularly interested in that business, and since their newest recruit was an ex-Navy pilot, I guess they thought I should be involved so they sent me back down there. It made sense to assume that besides being used to ship handbags, the airstrip was being used for transporting weapons, people, and even aircraft in and out of the country as well. We'd just set up some preliminary surveillance on the place when Gunny got a tip from Esmelda that they were expecting an important shipment at the airfield. She didn’t have all the specifics but told us that security was being stepped up on a certain date and that everyone was unusually nervous. Two days ago based on her information and some other corroborating intel I gave the go ahead and we raided the airstrip. When we got there the place was deserted, except they had tied Esmelda to a chair and slit her throat.”

His face was a mask as he related the last part, and his voice got even flatter if that was possible. “I left them to sort it all out and caught the first plane out of there. On the flight home every time I closed my eyes I would see her face—those lifeless eyes staring at me. And every time I tried to get the image of her out of my head it was replaced with one of you strapped to that table about to be tortured. I realized then that even if I had known it would cost Esmelda her life, I would still have made the same bargain to save you all over again. What kind of man does that make me?” He rubbed his hands over his face refusing to look at me.

Knowing he needed some space to keep his composure, I’d valiantly resisted the impulse to gather him into my arms while he told this story, but at his last words I stopped resisting and launched myself into his lap. He buried his face in my shoulder and held me tightly as he continued his confession, “I came here straight from the airport. You were asleep and I should have just turned around and gone home, but I couldn’t make myself leave.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t leave.” I held on tight trying to show him that this was where he belonged. “Harm, you've got to quit now. You don’t owe them anything else.”

His story was horrifying, and the wound was still too raw for him to see that the responsibility for her death wasn’t solely his. But it wasn't in him to shift blame, so I could only hope that time would give him some perspective. I knew that he would always carry guilt over this woman’s death, but he could come home now and start to heal, and I wanted to help him if he would let me.

I felt such relief that it was finally all over, until his next words stopped me cold.

“I can’t quit, yet.” He spoke with grim determination.

“Why not?” I demanded.

“Because there’s a lawyer in Maryland that I need to eliminate.”

Part Three

I pushed myself away from him and stood up. “I am going to assume that you don’t actually plan to kill anyone.”

“Ask me again tomorrow. Right now I could kill him with my bare hands.”

“And this lawyer has something to do with what happened in Paraguay?” I walked over to the sofa and sat down. My disappointment was barely manageable and I wrapped my arms around my middle.

“Listen, Mac, I’ve already said too much.” He stood also and started pacing in front of the couch.

“And so now you’ll just disappear again to pursue your newest obsession.” I tried to keep the bitterness from my voice.

“I’m just doing my job.”

“Avenging this woman’s death is not part of your job, Harm.”

“No, it’s my job to follow the leads wherever they take me. But let me make one thing clear. I only have one obsession these days.”

“What’s that?” I asked wearily.

“You.” His voice was hushed.

My eyes flew to his, and his low, dark voice washed over me, saying the words I’d only heard in my dreams.

“When I resigned my commission and went to Paraguay, it was about you. When I accepted this deal with the CIA it was about you. And when this job is finished it will still be about you.”

I could barely breathe. “I’m right here.”

“And this time I’m the one with one foot out the door.” He sat down beside me on the sofa and turned his body so that he was facing me. “I’m in no position to ask you to wait for me, Mac. So I won’t. I want you to get on with your life while I’m trying to straighten out mine. But I am also telling you right now that when this job is finished—and I don’t care if it takes weeks or months or years—when all of this is finished, I’m coming back for you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Harm.”

“Well, I won’t hold you to that, Mac. I know you have some unfinished business with Webb.”

I tried to protest but he stopped me before I could say anything. “You don’t need to explain. I understand how he feels about you. I’m just warning you that even if I come back and find out that you have become the new Mrs. Clayton Webb, it won’t stop me.”

“When did you turn into such a caveman?” I smiled at the absurdity of it.

Smiling he shrugged. “I tried the noble approach with Lowne and Brumby. It didn’t get me very far.” He stood up and pulled me to my feet. “Walk me to the door.”

“You’re leaving?” I didn’t want him to go.

“I think I should.” He sounded determined.

“I have a better idea.” I started dragging him toward the bedroom. “You need some sleep.”

“If we go back into the bedroom it won’t be to sleep.” He stopped short and hauled me up against him.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” But I saw the regret in his eyes even before he spoke.

“Mac, we can’t. Not now. Not like this. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“I thought you were going to give up on the noble approach.” I tried not to pout, but couldn’t keep from turning my face away when he tried to kiss me.

He chased my mouth with his and whispered softly, “Kiss me, Mac.”

I had no will to resist. I turned my mouth back to his, seeking his gentleness. Instead I was met by savage intent. It was a kiss full of want and need and the loneliness we were both certain to endure in the coming weeks. He ended the kiss reluctantly and I tried not to cling as he walked out the door and disappeared from my life once more.

I floated through the next few days, replaying Harm’s words in my head. I was optimistic that he would be home soon, and we would finally have a chance to explore this thing between us. At least we both seemed to want the same thing at the same time for a change. But days turned into weeks and nothing happened. He called a couple of times, but couldn’t really share what he was doing, so I would tell him about my days at JAG. My court cases, Harriet’s pregnancy, Sturgis and Bud facing off against each other. He seemed comforted by the familiar news. Another night he called and we barely spoke. Like an adolescent I was content to listen to him breathe. Breaking the connection had been painful, and like an adolescent I was certain I could die of heartache.

I finally started badgering Webb for information. We’d stayed close while he recovered from his injuries. I’d made it clear that friendship was all he could expect, and he had accepted that easily enough. If he still had feelings for me he never mentioned them, and I think we both felt relieved to find ourselves back in a more comfortable place with each other. So we had fallen into a habit of spending time together at least one night a week after work. I was lonely, and he hadn’t gotten back into the swing of his old social life yet. He was working again, though only part time. The background work he had done in Paraguay had been extensive and the contacts he had established had proven invaluable to the ongoing investigations, so his superiors had rewarded him by allowing him to return to work at Langley. He wasn’t overseeing anything anymore, but Catherine Gale kept him up to date and consulted with him from time to time.

I never told him about Harm’s visits, but Webb was a pretty smart guy. If he thought Harm was oblivious than he certainly found me to be nothing if not obvious. He had always been able to see how I felt about the man, so he wasn’t surprised that I was worried about Harm’s new job. He also knew that he owed Harm his life, so keeping his ex partner from dissolving into hysteria with bits of news occasionally was a small price to pay.

Almost six weeks after Harm had walked out of my door, Clayton called on a Friday afternoon and told me to meet him at Dusty’s. I was familiar with the place. Dusty’s was an upscale restaurant and bar that catered to the upwardly mobile career crowd. It was full of slate table tops, cast iron chairs and strategically placed uplights that gave the place a warm glow. The food was unassuming and on a Friday night the drinks were half priced, so the crowd was already happy by the time I arrived and looked around for Webb. He was waiting for me outside near the entrance and threw his arm around me and led me inside.

We were walking to our table when I saw him. He was standing near the bar, and he was laughing. His hand rested at the small of a woman’s back. She was blonde, and I hated her on sight. When she turned I recognized Catherine Gale. She was looking up at him, flirting, laughing in return.

Harm had come home, but instead of coming to see me he was here with her. Clayton pulled out my chair, so I blindly sat down and asked, “Did you know he would be here?”

He didn’t ask who I meant, but did seem surprised by my tone of voice. “I thought you would be happy to see him. Do you want to leave?”

Before I could answer, Catherine spotted us and waved. She started toward our table pulling a shocked looking Harm along with her.

“Webb! I’d heard that some woman was managing to get you back into circulation, but I didn’t know it was Sarah McKenzie. Nice to see you again, Colonel.” She stuck out her hand so I was forced to take it.

Webb stood at her approach. “Hello Catherine. Yes, Sarah is just what the doctor ordered. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”

She still held Harm’s arm and turned to him. “Isn’t this a nice surprise?”

“Hi, Mac.” He looked uncomfortable.

“Harm.” I managed a weak smile that didn’t go unnoticed by Ms. Gale. I tried to cover my reaction by cheerfully inviting them to join us.

Harm said hello to Clayton and shook his hand before pulling out Catherine’s chair. He sat down in the chair adjacent to me allowing his knee to brush against mine. I moved away from the contact and asked Catherine brightly, “Well, how’s your newest recruit doing?”

She grabbed his hand off the table and said sweetly while staring at him adoringly, “Well, I don’t want to embarrass him, but I think he could be good at anything he tried. I know I have learned a lot by listening to the way he thinks a problem through. I have found it fascinating. But you must know all of that. You are so lucky to have worked with him for all those years. I really envy you.”

She certainly was touchy feely for a CIA lawyer. I couldn’t stop staring at their joined hands. I had an overpowering urge to stab them both with my fork.

Harm pulled his hand away from hers and changed the subject. “So Mac, how are things at JAG?”

“You know how it is, Harm. Just the same old, dull military cases, week after week. We have tried our best to carry on without you, though. You really should stop by and see everyone if you are going to be in town for a while. I know they all miss you.”

I must have sounded sarcastic because Clayton reached over and rubbed my forearm soothingly and then asked the question that I had been dying to ask since I first spotted him across the room. “So, when did you get back into town, Harm?”

He glanced at Webb’s hand resting on my arm then answered bravely, “About a week ago, I guess.”

About a week ago! It was worse than I thought. He had been home for a week and hadn’t even called. I needed to escape so I stood up and asked to be excused.

I practically ran to the ladies room. I washed my face and force myself to take some deep breaths. There had to be a good reason if he hadn’t called or come to see me. How could he not come to see me? I wouldn’t jump to any conclusions until after I talked to him. Then I would kill him. There had to be a simple explanation and I couldn’t hide in the restroom all night. I plastered a smile on my face and marched out to rejoin them.

He was waiting for me at the bar when I came out of the ladies room.

“Don’t go home with him,” He grabbed my arm as I started to walk past him. “We need to talk.”

“Harm, your date is watching us. You might want to let go of me.”

“She’s not my date.”

“Oh, really? Did you tell her that?”

“Mac, she is not my date.” He released my arm as he repeated his earlier denial.

“Then what is she?”

“She’s just my partner.”

Those words ripped into me with a force I wasn’t prepared for. I was supposed to be his partner. I was Sundance to his Butch, Robin to his Batman. That was just the way it was supposed to be. I almost wished she was his date. I conjured up an excuse for a smile and said, “It doesn’t look like you had any trouble breaking in a new one.”

He realized what he’d said and apology, frustration and stubbornness were all evident on his face. He stepped closer to me and reached for my hand. “Mac, I hate this. Please don’t go home with him.”

Feeling bruised I said simply, “Give me a reason.”

Despite the fact that Catherine and Clayton were watching us from across the room, he stepped even closer and leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Doughnuts.”

Startled, I pulled back to look at him.

“So, you’re pulling out the big guns?” I asked. When we’d worked together he would bring me doughnuts when he was trying to get back on my good side after a confrontation. But it was a tactic he saved only for the most important groveling. I felt the earth shift back to more solid ground.

He seemed very pleased with himself as he waited for my answer.

“Jelly?” I asked through narrowed eyes.

He pretended to consider for a moment then said smugly, “That could be arranged. I might even throw in a cinnamon twist or two.”

“You never did fight fair.” I said in defeat. There had never been any question that I would give in. “I like the lemon filled.”

“I know what you like, Mac.” In a voice that should have been confined to the bedroom he added, “And wear those red pajamas.”

I put some distance between us. “You mean the ones with little pink pigs on them?”

He grinned from ear to ear. “Those are pigs? I thought they were bunny rabbits.”

I started walking back to the table where Catherine and Clayton waited, and Harm trailed behind me “Oh, and Harm, just so you know, I never planned to go home with him.”

Oddly enough, I didn’t see triumph in his eyes, only relief.

**

I sat on one end of my couch. Harm sat on the other. I’d changed into my piggy pajamas when I got home. He had removed his dark suit jacket and tie, loosened his collar and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. My bare feet rested in his lap, and a large box of assorted doughnuts sat on the coffee table in front of us.

“Were you even going to let me know you were home?”

“Not if I could help it. I’ve been trying to stay away, but if it makes you feel any better, a few nights ago I sat outside your apartment for about an hour before I managed to make myself drive home.”

I shook my head sympathetically. “I would’ve never known a thing if you hadn’t agreed to let Catherine show you off in public.”

“Or if you hadn’t agreed to be Webb’s latest arm decoration.”

I took a bite of my lemon filled doughnut and remarked casually, “So—Catherine is a blonde—that’s good. You like blondes.”

He shrugged and stroked the arch of my foot. “Blondes contrast nicely with my dark, good looks. Webb is certainly infatuated with you,” he noted nonchalantly.

“It’s flattering to be wanted.” I shivered as his hand moved inside my pajama leg to stroke my calf.

“I want you.” His eyes were dark and deadly serious.

“Well, he’s needed a little help with his convalescence.” I rubbed my foot against the inside of his leg

His voice was soft and low as he murmured, “I need you.”

Disconcerted, I tried to change the subject. “I overheard Bud telling Sturgis about your ‘marriage’ to Ms. Gale. He was almost beside himself when he described that moment when you kissed the bride.”

“You kissed Webb.” He countered automatically.

“I love it when we keep score.” I sighed and then closed my eyes and concentrated on the hand that was wandering in the direction of my thigh.

“Come here, Mac. You have some jelly on your mouth.” He grabbed both of my legs just behind my knees and pulled me toward him.

“Besides,” I explained patiently, “I thought Webb was dying.”

I offered no resistance as he maneuvered me until I was straddling his lap.

“I thought her mother was dying, too.”

He studied my mouth, and with his thumb dabbed at one corner. Then he rubbed it across my lower lip and stole a quick kiss. “Sweet,” he whispered before taking my mouth completely.

I wrapped myself around him, dropping my uneaten doughnut onto the sofa, not caring that it got squashed somewhere beneath us as he pushed me back into the cushions. His body covered mine and I welcomed the sheer weight of him—the reality of having his body close to mine. He kissed me like he’d missed me. He kissed me like he never wanted to leave me—and suddenly I knew that this visit was about saying goodbye. Again.

I grabbed his face and pulled away, looking at him sadly. “You’re about to go away again, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and this time I really can’t be in touch until it’s over. I am going undercover and Catherine will be my only contact.”

“Does this have something to do with that lawyer in Maryland?” I suddenly realized that he would still be in the area.

“Yes, and that is all I am going to say.” He had shifted so that we were lying side by side facing each other on the couch.

“Is it dangerous?” I echoed the question he had asked me long ago.

“Very.” He answered honestly knowing I wouldn’t have believed him even if he had denied it.

I sat up as an idea began to take place in my head. “Harm, why don’t you go to the Admiral and request my help on this?”

“Because I don’t want to give him a reason to break my nose. That’s why.” He sat up beside me and pushed himself off the couch.

“Why is this any different than all of the other times Webb borrowed one of us?” The more I thought about it the better this idea sounded.

Harm didn’t seem to agree. He paced around and tried to poke holes in my plan. “Well for one thing the plan is already in place. And for another thing I don’t think the Admiral is too happy with me for leaving him short handed. He certainly wouldn’t appreciate it if I waltzed into his office and asked to borrow you too.”

“I was on this investigation before you were, Harm, so it makes sense to let me help. Besides you need someone to watch your six. What kind of mission planning is that anyway? You need someone on the inside with you.”

“Forget it, Mac. I know you feel like you are being left on the sidelines, and I love you for wanting to be there to back me up. But it’s not going to happen this time.”

I could tell that I was getting nowhere with him, so I decided to back down. “I’m sorry, Harm. I’m worried about you and I just got carried away.” He looked suspicious. He knew it wasn’t like me to give up so easily, but I grabbed his hand and pulled him back down beside me. “Don’t you want to show me how much you’re going to miss me while you’re gone?” Then I kissed him and talking didn’t seem important anymore.

“I want to hold you while you fall asleep,” he whispered later as we tried to bank our desire for each other. Despite my best efforts he was still stubbornly refusing to make love to me until all of this was over.

“I don’t want to close my eyes while you’re still here.” I murmured into his chest even as I stifled a yawn.

He stood and scooped me into his arms, carrying me into the bedroom. “C’mon Sleepyhead. Let me tuck you in.”

I helped pull back the covers and snuggled into my bed wrapped in his arms. As I drifted off to sleep I made a mental note to call Webb and then the Admiral first thing the next morning.

Part Four

The Admiral was not very happy, I was not very happy, and though it was hard to tell by looking at him, Clayton Webb was probably not very happy either.

I had been bending Webb’s ear all morning, pleading my case and he’d finally, reluctantly agreed to help me. At the Admiral’s command to enter, I marched into his office with Webb in tow.

“Sir,” I announced, “Mr. Webb has something he would like to ask you.”

The Admiral looked at Clayton Webb, then at me, and then back at Clayton again.

“Well, what is it?” he barked. A.J. Chegwidden had not been in a good mood since my return from Paraguay. He wouldn’t say as much to me, but he had seemed shocked, and then angry, and maybe even hurt when Harm had made no attempt to return to JAG. I had never been told the complete story about why he wouldn’t allow Harm to go after me, and I felt certain that there was more to the story. But if he felt guilty about it at all, I was not above using it to my advantage.

“Well, Admiral—I want to borrow Mac again.” Webb winced when AJ rounded on him and got within an inch of his face.

“You’re feeling brave for a man just out of the hospital.” A lesser man would have run right out the door.

Clayton stood fast and glanced at me. I gave him a pointed look and he took a deep breath and said. “Believe it or not there are worse things than facing your wrath, Admiral.”

“Why do I get the feeling that this is not your idea, Webb?” The Admiral was still glaring at him. Turning to me he added, “And why do I get the feeling that this has something to do with Rabb?”

When neither of us responded he turned his back to us and then said quietly, “The answer is no.”

“But, sir—”

He turned back around so quickly I jumped. “Are you going to quit on me now too? Let me help you fill out the paper work, Colonel. This is not a recruiting office for the CIA, damn it.”

“I can’t leave him behind, sir.” I stood at attention and stared straight ahead.

“Webb, would you excuse us for just a minute.” The Admiral moved into my line of vision and his eyes locked onto mine. I heard the door close as Clayton left the room.

“So, this is about Rabb.”

“Yes, sir.”

He sighed and said, “Have a seat, Mac.”

I sat down and he leaned against the front of his desk. “It was his choice to move on.”

“Was it? I think the CIA used his loyalty to me so that he would do their dirty work, and I think he is still being used.”

“And you think I am partly responsible?” He walked around his desk and sat down heavily.

“What I think, Admiral, is that you knew Harm would go after me, and you also knew that his best chance of finding me was with the help of the CIA. Certain agreements had to be reached for that to happen.”

“Those certain agreements did not include him joining the CIA permanently.”

“All I know is that he is in this situation because of me. He is going undercover as a follow up to leads he found in Paraguay, and I need to be there to back him up.”

“And he’s okay with your involvement?”

“He doesn’t know yet, sir. In fact, after I convince you, I still have to convince Catherine Gale that this is a good idea.”

He studied me before remarking, “Nothing would have stopped him from going after you. You know that don’t you?”

“He’s stubborn that way.”

“And nothing is going to stop you either, is it Mac?”

“No, sir.”

He brooded for a few more minutes, and then stood up and said decisively, “Permission granted, Colonel. And I am going to make a few phone calls to remind some people that at JAG we take care of our own. I don’t think you will get much of an argument from Ms. Gale by the time I’m finished.”

“Thank you, sir.” I was flooded with relief. Knowing the Admiral was on my side only added to my determination.

“Oh, and Mac, when you talk to Harm, tell him that when this case is over I expect him to come see me.”

“Yes sir.” His words made me want to jump for joy, but that would have to wait until later.

I nearly skipped out the door, and grabbed Clayton who was perched on the edge of Tiner’s desk and pulled him toward my office.

“I take it from your giddy demeanor that he okayed this crazy idea.” Webb said as he lounged against the doorframe.

“You only think it’s crazy because it wasn’t your idea.”

“So what now? I don’t have much influence with this case, Mac. Catherine already has a plan in place and there’s no guarantee that she will agree to let you help.”

“I’m on my way to talk to her now. You don’t have to come with me, but do you have any advice on how to approach her?” I gathered my briefcase and cover and headed back out the door.

“Are you kidding? This is one meeting I wouldn’t miss for the world.” Webb chuckled and followed me out of the bullpen.

***

“Come in, Colonel McKenzie. I’ve been expecting you.” Catherine Gale rose from behind her desk. “Clayton,” she acknowledged him and invited us both to sit down.

“So if you were expecting me then I guess you know why I’m here?” I was impressed. The Admiral worked fast.

“Even without the phone calls from upstairs I am not really surprised to see you. When you were undercover with Clay, Harm was ready to do just about anything to find out where you were, so I guess I realized then that the two of you were a packaged deal.”

“So does that mean you’re going to make this easy?”

“Oh, it will be easy enough for me. I can always use an extra pair of eyes and ears on an operation like this, but I don’t know how easy it will be for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“How much do you know, Colonel?”

“Just that Harm is going undercover and that it involves a lawyer in Maryland.”

“We have reason to believe that this lawyer is somehow involved in financing terrorist activities. Harm will be going undercover as a family law attorney. He has just moved into the same legal building where our target has an office.”

“Ok. Send me in as his receptionist—or as a paralegal. That should be easier than pretending to be a diamond expert.” I smirked at Webb who hadn’t said a word since we sat down.

“I can do that. That makes sense with your legal background. There’s just one problem.” She looked at me sympathetically.

“What’s that?”

“The lawyer—Frankie Mitchell—is a woman. Harm’s job is to seduce her. Do you think you can handle that?”

Part 5

I didn’t look like a woman applying for a job in a legal office. I looked more like a woman trying to get lucky in a bar, but this was the look the profilers had picked for me, saying they wanted a look that Frankie Mitchell wouldn’t approve of—a look that would push her buttons. Clayton had been only too happy to help pick out my ‘working’ wardrobe. Skirts that flirted with being too short and too tight, blouses that dipped a bit too low in front, heels that made my legs look great but were impossible to walk in. To top it all off, I had several wigs in varying lengths and colors, also. For my interview I was wearing a straight, tight black skirt and a v-necked form fitting red sweater. Clayton decided somewhat gleefully that the long blonde wig was the perfect finishing touch. My look was flamboyant, and it was not designed to make other women like me, especially in a work environment.

I was proud of myself for not wobbling on my three inch red high heels with ankle straps as I approached the building that housed Harm’s new office. He had been told by Catherine to expect some job applicants today, but she hadn’t told him to expect me. I wasn’t sure that was such a good idea, but I wasn’t running the operation so I kept my mouth shut. Now more than ever I wanted to be close in case Harm needed my help, so I wasn’t going to make waves.

It had been almost two weeks since I had barged into Catherine’s office. Two weeks where I had to sit and think about what Harm might be doing in Ellicott City, Maryland. Obviously, I wasn't thrilled with the idea of Harm using his charm on another woman, but my main concern was the emotional impact that this would have on him over time. It wasn't in his nature to be comfortable with deceit and subterfuge, and I couldn't help but feel that he was going to need me to watch his six not just physically but mentally as well before this was all over.

He’d actually started making tentative contact with Frankie Mitchell even before that night that he’d told me goodbye. He’d approached her before he’d opened his law office, asking her questions about the building, scouting out the location, making new neighbor noises. Once he’d moved in, it had been natural for him to stop by her office for conversation several times during the day, or since he was new in town invite her to join him for lunch. He hadn’t asked her to do anything after business hours yet. He wanted to take things slow and gain her trust.

Catherine seemed to take a perverse pleasure in keeping me caught up on his progress, almost as if she were testing my ability to stay cool. She briefed me almost daily, getting me ready to go in as his combination receptionist-paralegal assistant, making sure I understood the part I was to play, and though I was impatient to get started I didn’t let her know it. I hadn’t batted an eye when she told me that Harm’s job was to seduce this woman, and I certainly wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of reacting now.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the lobby. The building housed mainly small law offices since it was conveniently located only a few blocks from the courthouse, but I noticed on the lobby’s directory that an accounting firm, an insurance agency and a nonprofit charitable organization were located in it also. The one story square was built around a courtyard with offices on only one side of the hallway. Big windows lined the other side and looked out onto a patio area that was filled with tables and chairs. It was just past lunchtime and several people were still sitting outside as I made my way down the sunlit hall in search of number 104—the office of Harry Baldridge, attorney at law.

In my briefings I had been told that Frankie Mitchell’s office was around the corner from his in 106. I was anxious to get a glimpse of this mystery woman, but that could wait I told myself as I passed number 100 and then 102. I tried to ignore the butterflies in my stomach as I approached his office. I couldn’t begin to guess what his reaction was going to be, but I expected him to be at least annoyed if not angry with me. That was too bad. He would just have to get over it, because he was going to be stuck with me until this insane assignment was finished.

I was about to knock on the door when I heard voices coming down the hallway. I peered cautiously around the corner and there he was looking every bit the civilian lawyer in his charcoal gray suit. He was walking in my direction beside a petite woman with pale red hair. She was almost plain at first glance but she had an other-worldly aura about her that made you take a second look. She wore a gauzy beige shapeless dress and her hair was long and floated around her like angel wings as she walked. She was listening intently to Harm as he talked—as if every word he spoke was precious. His hand rested on her back as he escorted her to her office door. She opened it, and he leaned against the door frame and smiled that smile. She answered it with one of her own and in that moment was transformed from plain to beautiful.

My stomach knotted at the sight of him gazing down at her so sweetly. I suddenly felt cheap and clownish in my high heels and low cut sweater, and I hated Clayton and Catherine and the CIA profilers and everyone else who had helped design my part in this mission. I wanted to slink away and find the nearest restroom and scrub the extra make-up from my face, but she chose that moment to notice that I was standing there staring at them.

“Can I help you?” she asked in a cautious tone.

Harm glanced my way and then did a double take when I said, “I’m looking for Harry Baldridge.”

He obviously hadn’t recognized me at first, but his eyes widened and he straightened and moved away from her before stating neutrally, “I'm Harry Baldridge. Are you here about the job?”

“Yes, I saw the ad in the paper.” I smiled my best ‘I hope you’ll consider hiring me smile’, but Ms. Mitchell wasn’t impressed. She looked at me disapprovingly, and then turned back to Harm. She seemed bothered by the way he was staring at me, and touched his arm to regain his attention.

“Well, Harry, I know you need to handle this, so I’ll talk to you later.” She smiled at him, gave me another dismissive glance and disappeared into her office.

He didn’t say a word. He just brushed past me and unlocked his office door and then stood back to let me enter. Except for his tightly clenched jaw I would never have known that he was upset. He moved through the outer office and opened another door and waved me inside. I held my head high and gave him a haughty look as I teetered on my spindly heels past him and into the inner office. I collapsed into the first chair I saw and sat silently, determined not to speak until he did.

“What are you doing here, Mac?” He sat down behind his desk and finally spoke in a tightly controlled voice.

“Catherine decided that you could use my help.” I said brightly. I wasn’t above sharing the blame.

“So you’re saying this was her idea?” He scoffed at the notion.

“You knew she was sending someone in to work with you. You’re just angry because it’s me. And okay, I admit that I forced my way into this project, but you might as well accept it because you know that I’m not going anywhere until it’s finished.”

Our eyes met and we stared at each other for a full minute without either of us wavering. He took in my stubborn expression and finally let out an exasperated sigh and said with resignation, “I’m not angry, but you shouldn’t be here. This is crazy, Mac.”

“I promise I won’t get in your way, Boss. I’ll just blend into the scenery while you’re busy seducing the socks off Ms. Mitchell.” I smiled gamely and crossed my legs and then tugged at my skirt where it had crawled indecently up my legs.

He noticed my attempt at modesty, arched one eyebrow and openly looked me up and down before commenting, “That's some scenery. So, what’s with the outfit?”

I rolled my eyes and said, “Well, according to those in charge of this operation, my blatant attempts to be sexy will dazzle all the men and irritate all the women, and as a result no one will take me seriously. Then while you are busy keeping Ms. Mitchell occupied, I can snoop around and no one will notice. At least that's the way they explained it to me.” I tried to sound more confident than I felt about pulling off this look.

“And just how am I supposed to stay focused on seducing the socks off Ms. Mitchell if you are walking around dressed like that?” He got up and walked around the desk and pulled me out of my chair and into his arms. I relaxed for the first time since I’d arrived at the building, and the look on his face was making me feel more confident by the minute.

“Well Mr. Baldridge, I think we are both uniquely qualified for this challenge.” I played with his lapels and smoothed my hands across his shoulders.

“Is that right?” He fingered a strand of my blonde wig.

“Absolutely. I’ve had years of practice watching you seduce other women, while you’ve had years of practice resisting my obvious charms. This will be just like old times.”

“Mac, that’s not true—,” he started to protest then broke off suddenly before asking, “By the way, what should I be calling you?”

“Good question. My name is Hannah McIntire.” I paused for effect and then added, “But you can call me Mac.” I grinned at him and pushed out of his arms. “I better get out of here. We don’t want the interview to be so long that it seems suspicious.”

“Some other applicants are supposed to be coming in just to make things look legitimate, but we still have things we need to discuss.” He let me go and walked with me through the outer office and to the door.

“I know.” I stopped to face him and added, “I have some instructions from Catherine that I need to go over with you, too.”

“Why don’t you come to my apartment tonight around six? Do you have my address? It’s just down the road.”

“As a matter of fact I know exactly where it is, since I’m living in an apartment practically next door to yours.”

He looked startled at that bit of news. “You don’t think that will look a little suspicious?”

“Not really—since I am sharing mine with my boyfriend.”

His expression changed from startled to annoyed. “Your boyfriend? Let me guess. Webb?”

“Actually I’m not sure. Have you noticed that Catherine likes surprises? I was just told that he would make contact tonight, so why don’t you come to my place instead--apartment 252. I'm going to go home now, change out of these shoes and then make a trip to the grocery store. If you’re nice I’ll even cook dinner.”

“Okay,” he agreed but then added somewhat sourly, “But I’ll bet it’s Webb.”

“Bye, Harry. I’ll see you tonight.” I patted him on the cheek and then walked out the door. Things had gone better than I'd hoped, and there was an extra sway in my hips as I made my way down the hall. So what if I stumbled over my ridiculous shoes before I had even taken ten steps? I ignored the sound of Harm’s smothered laughter and sailed regally out of the building feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

Part 6

The apartment that I would call home for the next few weeks was new and sterile and decorated in early modern ugly. White walls surrounded beige carpeting. The sofa was a stick to your skin affair in teal leatherette. The coffee table was a chrome and glass coffin-like box. The floor lamps were black metal torches that would probably go up in flames in the time it took you to read a magazine, and the bedroom was even worse. A blonde dresser with an attached mirror was on one wall and matching nightstands were on either side of a queen sized bed. From the looks of the orange and teal striped bedspread, a fruit vendor somewhere was missing his awning.

The bed had me a little concerned about the eventual appearance of my ‘boyfriend’. Some men’s clothes were hanging in the closet and one of the dresser drawers was filled with socks and boxer shorts. I didn’t know if the clothes had been delivered with the furniture of if he had actually been staying there a while before I arrived. Whoever he was I hoped he liked the smell of leatherette in the morning because it looked like that’s where he would be sleeping from now on.

Catherine had arranged to have the place furnished so besides the furniture the linen closets held towels and sheets and the kitchen was fully equipped too. I spent the afternoon unloading everything from my car. It had taken umpteen trips to lug in the groceries and all of my personal stuff which included my new wardrobe. But it was all neatly put away now, and I had nothing to do but cook and wait for Harm. Despite the circumstances I could barely wait to see him. I was pathetically in love.

I was stirring a big pot of vegetable soup when I heard a knock on the door. I grabbed a dish towel and wiped my hands as I walked over to answer it. Harm stood there looking all casual and gorgeous in blue jeans and a black long sleeved t-shirt.

He was smiling and twirling a dandelion between his fingers and he said, “Excuse me. I was looking for a sexy blonde that applied for a job at my office today, but I must have the wrong apartment.”

“You’re really funny.” I had ripped off the wig and thrown on jeans and a large loose oversized sweatshirt as soon as I got home.

He laughed and held out the wilting flower to me as he came into the apartment. “This is for you, Mac.”

“A weed? You shouldn’t have—really.” I took it and headed back to the kitchen.

He was right on my heels, and when I looked back over my shoulder my pulse quickened at the predatory look in his eyes.

“Hey that’s not just any weed,” he protested. “I picked it from that patch of grass that’s growing out in front of our apartments.” I turned around to find him invading my space when he murmured, “That means it came from our front yard.”

“Imagine that.” I would’ve come up with a better response but my brain was scrambled from the way his hooded eyes were staring at me as he marched me insistently backwards.

I came to a sudden stop when the back of my legs met the kitchen cabinets, and he picked me up and sat me on the counter before spreading my legs and stepping between them. “So,” he insisted softly, “that means it’s special.”

My hands went to his shoulders for balance, and the dish towel fell to the floor. “Very special,” I agreed huskily as I tucked the dandelion behind his ear.

His eyes were intense and a smoky green and they were heating up the kitchen better than the pot of soup on the stove.

“God, I’ve missed you. Come here, Mac.” His mouth was relentless as it found mine. His hands slipped under my sweatshirt as if they belonged there and the feel of his fingers against the bare skin of my back rocked me with desire. My legs wrapped around his rear end trapping him intimately against me, and I writhed in his arms—frustrated—needing more of him from the first touch.

We were rough and greedy—scheming to find just the right caress that would keep reality at bay. Trying to strike a bargain that wouldn’t penalize us for this stolen moment, but in the end it was no use.

We were breathing hard, clinging to each other and he kept sneaking back for another kiss even as he scolded me. “This is not a good idea.”

“I know.” I brushed my lips across his once and then twice before giving into temptation again.

“I promise to resist you from now on.” He was less than convincing as his palms skimmed my ribs.

I arched into his touch and moaned. “I promise too.”

“Stop that,” he pleaded with his forehead against mine.

I ran my hand across his hair and down the back of his neck soothingly. “Put me down, then, so we can eat.” I wasn’t hungry but we had things to talk about and it sounded sensible. I tried to slide off the counter, but he was still too close so he lifted me into a fierce hug before setting me on the floor and moving away from me.

I put a loaf of French bread and some soft cheese on a bread board and took it out to the dining room table. He started searching for soup bowls and utensils and turned as I walked back into the kitchen. “This looks great, Mac.”

“Thanks.”

He ladled up the soup and carried it out to the table. I got a couple of bottles of water and joined him.

We sat silently, not really eating since the soup was too hot, and we hadn’t cooled off yet either. I picked at a piece of bread. Harm stared into his bowl as if it held important answers.

Finally he looked up at me and said, “I know it was selfish but for my own sanity, I needed to remind myself of what’s important in my life before we got too caught up in this charade.”

I reached out and covered his hand with mine as he continued.

“So I won’t apologize for anything that just happened. But after you start working at the office things will be different and sometimes the lines are going to blur between what’s real and what’s not. I don’t know if Frankie Mitchell is guilty of anything yet, but it is my job to find out and if I have to do anything that hurts you, just remember that it’s not real.”

“I’m a big girl, Harm, and I didn’t come here to make this harder for you. I came here to help. No matter what happens or what you have to do, I’m with you. It’s that simple.”

“I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m glad you’re here.” He squeezed my hand.

I smiled and suddenly felt hungry. He’d practically admitted that he needed me.

“You know, I think it’s about time I asked her out on a date.” He looked grim.

“I agree. That might be a good time for me to get into her office and look around. I also need to get friendly with the other people in the office building and see what the gossip has to say about her.”

“They probably won’t say much. She seems like a lonely woman, Mac.”

“Well then, the gossip will say that she is besotted with the new handsome lawyer in her life--”

I stopped talking and we both looked up at the sound of keys rattling. I was halfway out of my chair when the front door swung open and Victor Galindez came waltzing into the apartment.

He stopped short when he first saw me but then broke into a big grin as he announced, “Hi honey, I’m home.”

Part 7

“Gunny?” I was surprised but happy to see him walk through the door. He was wearing a dark business suit with a red tie that made him look very handsome in an unGunny sort of way. I rarely saw him in civilian clothes.

“Hello, ma’am. Sir, it’s good to see you,” he added quickly when he saw Harm.

“You’re the boyfriend?” Harm asked somewhat inanely.

“Yes, sir.” Gunny looked pleased at the prospect and winked at me.

I smiled back. I trusted Victor, and even though this would definitely be an odd twist on our usual working relationship it would be much better than working with someone I didn’t know. It seemed he was attached permanently to the CIA these days.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Harm said as he walked over to shake his hand. “I thought you were still in South America.”

“I was until yesterday morning but the plans have been changed, so here I am.”

I asked him if he was hungry and offered him some soup.

“I’m starving, ma’am. That sounds great.” He dropped the small bag he was carrying onto the floor and took off his suit jacket.

“You better lose the ma’am if you’re going to be my boyfriend,” I said. Gunny laughed and Harm rolled his eyes as I headed to the kitchen. I returned with another bowl of soup and joined them at the table and we all began to eat.

“So,” Harm asked between bites, “what is this about plans being changed?”

“Well, your job is still to get close to Ms. Mitchell. That part hasn’t changed. Ms. Gale still wants you to try to get her to trust you.”

“He’s doing a great job,” I offered. “You should see the way she looks at him.”

Harm shot me a warning look and asked, “So, what’s different?”

“They’ve decided to shake things up a bit by trying to make her nervous. If she’s guilty it might force her to tip her hand.”

That was the most puzzling thing about this whole case. Frankie Mitchell led a solitary but seemingly exemplary life. She’d had a trouble free youth, been at the top of her class in college and law school, and had carved out an adequate practice for herself as a tax attorney. She lived modestly in this small town, was civic minded and had never even gotten a traffic ticket. Her life was the picture of a normal, average American life. But that also meant that no one would ever suspect her of being involved in anything as unlikely as terrorism, and so she would also be the perfect candidate if someone could manage to seduce her into helping them. Finding her name in the records smuggled out by Esmelda before her death wasn’t conclusive on its own, but it couldn’t be ignored either.

Harm’s initial rage at ‘the lawyer in Maryland’ seemed to have subsided once he’d met her and had now been replaced with his own questions about her guilt. It was clear from his early reports to Catherine that he was starting to believe that if she was involved it was only as an unwitting accomplice. I wasn’t so sure, and I thought he sounded a bit too protective when he asked, “And just how do you plan to make her nervous?”

Gunny pushed his empty soup bowl away and said, “Well, as you know the wire taps on her phone have turned up nothing so far, and before we do anything else the Colonel and I are going to get into her office one night soon and see if we can find anything incriminating. But unless we find a big fat file labeled Terrorist Contacts we are probably going to move on to plan B.”

“And what would that be?” I asked.

“I’m going to start following her around town, ma’am—Mac.” He grinned as he corrected himself. “And make sure that she notices me. Shortly after that she’s going to start receiving some anonymous threatening phone calls. Then I am going to make a noisy entrance as your boyfriend at the office which will set off alarm bells when she realizes that I am the same man that has been following her around. That will make her suspicious of Mac, too, I’m afraid,” he said to Harm. “But we want her to feel threatened and watched every minute of the day.”

“Well that will certainly scare her, but what will it prove?” Harm seemed a little indignant at the idea.

“Well, if she’s innocent we hope she will go to you for help, sir. From what I understand she doesn’t seem to be close to anyone else.”

Harm thought about it and then nodded reluctantly in agreement. “That makes sense. Then I can get her to help me go through her files. She does work for several charities, and it's possible that someone has used her without her knowledge. It should be easy enough to spot the connection with her cooperation.”

“Exactly. But if she is guilty and she is knowingly involved with Sadiq then we assume she will try to make contact and let him know that there’s a problem.”

“I don’t think that will happen, but you’re right. We have to be prepared.” Harm really wanted to believe that she was a victim and for his sake I hoped it was true. It would make his role in this much easier for him to live with if he could somehow end up helping her instead of sending her to prison.

“I am not questioning your estimation of Ms. Mitchell, sir. But Mac and I have to operate as if she's guilty, and I only hope that if any of Sadiq’s men show up in town I’m able to spot them first because that’s when things will really start to get dangerous,” Gunny paused and looked pointedly at me then back to Harm, “for all of us.”

Harm’s eyes narrowed as he said coolly, “You don’t need to remind me of how dangerous this is.”

“No sir,” he answered, “I’m just letting you know that the welfare of my partner will be my first consideration.”

They sized each other up before Harm said with steel in his voice, “I’m counting on it.”

I might as well have been invisible. What was it about men and posturing? I stood up noisily to get their attention. “Don’t worry about a thing, boys,” I assured them grandly. “I’ve got both of your sixes covered this time.”

They both grinned and Harm said sheepishly, “Sorry, Mac.”

Gunny stood up too and stretched. “Boy, I’m beat. I’ve been up since four this morning. If you don’t mind I think I’m going to go to bed.” He picked up his bowl and took it into the kitchen.

I followed him and asked, “So Gunny, what am I supposed to call you?”

Harm walked in carrying the other two bowls and put them in the sink, and we both waited for his answer.

We trailed each other back into the living room as he started rattling off the details of his make believe life. “My name is Cente Zamora. I’m in sales—communication systems. The home office is in Baltimore but most days I just call on customers so I am free to have lunch whenever I want with my beautiful live-in lover—Hannah McIntire. She just started working for this lawyer, Harry Baldridge, and he is a very generous boss who doesn’t mind if we take long leisurely lunches.” All of his attention was focused on me and his voice was deep and intimate until he glanced over at Harm and asked, “Do you, Harry?”

Harm glared and said, “I think you are enjoying certain parts of this assignment a little too much, Cente.”

“I’m just trying to get into character, Harry, but I will make you one promise.” I felt invisible again as the two men faced each other.

“What’s that?” Harm met his gaze head on.

I was starting to get irritated at whatever macho game they thought they were playing, and I was ready to knock both of their heads together.

“Sir, I may have to do some underhanded things on this assignment—and I may have to do some things I would never do in my real life. For instance I know that I’m going to have to kiss the Colonel and show her a great deal of public affection to make our story believable. And I can promise you right now that I plan to enjoy every minute of it.”

His grin was cocky as all get out as he picked up his bag from the floor and headed out of the room. Harm and I both were staring after him when he stopped suddenly and walked back to where I stood rooted in place. “I forgot something,” he said softly. He kissed me on the cheek, whispered, “Night Hannah,” and disappeared into the bedroom.