Author's note: There are a few things one must assume before reading this fic: first, the events of Goodbyes and Yeah, Baby! didn't happen exactly as they did, second, Harm and Jordan broke up earlier in the year (didn't think that one would be too hard), third, there was no baby promise (don't worry!) and, finally, there was no mention of the Dar- lin/Charlie investigation. However, Harm does return to flying.
 

Mercy Hospital 
Washington, D.C. 
February 4, 2026

The monitors that surround and invade me beep monotonously, keeping steady time with my heart. But lurking in the silence between one beat and the next, something whispers, telling me that I am dying.

It wasn't supposed to end like this. We made a promise. He kept it for as long as he could, while I I kept it for life. I am a Marine after all.

Over the years, I have run the emotional gambit from sorrow to rage and made stops at every point in between. That is, until I hit the emotion that required no feeling at all: numbness. I have remained in this state for the better part of a decade. It focused me; forced me to ignore the extraneous and look only for the truth. It saved me from the political B.S. that had infiltrated my life.

Or, at least, so I thought.

If I hadn't been numb, maybe I wouldn't have ended up here, about to greet the Reaper personally. But that's beside the point. I am here.

Someone once asked me if I would change anything about my life. At the time, I had tersely replied, "No," and continued whatever it was I had been working on, but I lied.

If I could, I would change everything that happened on one day: May 25, 1999.

***

Major Sarah MacKenzie's apartment 
Washington, D.C. 
May 24, 1999 
1956 Romeo

Harm rocked back and forth on his heels as he urged his hand to knock on her door. He'd been standing outside for five minutes psyching himself up to do the one thing he promised himself he never would do. Hurt Mac. 

After a few seconds, he heard her call, "Just a minute!" Then, the bolt slid away and she opened the door.

"Harm! What are you doing here?" 

He glanced down at his feet then pursed his lips. "Do you mind if I come in?"

She wrinkled her brow in confusion at his tone, but stepped aside and murmured, "No, not at all."

He crossed the room to her couch and noticed a stack of pictures strewn across her coffee table. Knowing her 'little sister' had left that morning, he asked, "How're you holding up?"

Mac swallowed visibly and closed her eyes for a moment. Chloe's departure had been hard on her, but it was for the best. The little girl would not only grow up in a loving a home, it would also be her real family. She nodded, "I'm OK." Mac smiled at the pictures and murmured in an offhand voice, "Just picking out the ones I want to keep and the ones that Chloe will get." Slightly uncomfortable, she slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans. 

Nervous and feeling more than a little guilty for putting yet another load on her, Harm walked back toward the door. "I guess I should go then."

She shook her head, knowing instinctively that something was bothering him. "The pictures will keep, Harm. What's going on?" Mac quickly placed a staying hand on his arm. 

Glancing down at her fingers as they curled over his wrist, he resolved silently, 'It's better to get this over with. For the both of us.' He led her over to the couch and urged her to sit down.

"Something tells me I'm not going to like this " she remarked under her breath. 

His mouth quirked and he replied, "You should listen to that something more often." He hesitated a moment, trying to decide whether or not he wanted to touch her as he broke the news. Seeing her face, he decided against it. "Mac, while you were in California with your father, I went to see a doctor "

"Harm, are you OK? Are you sick or something?" she asked, worry marring her beautiful features.

He shook his head and continued, "It's not that. I went to see an ophthalmologist. Apparently, the doctor who treated me after the crash messed up. The diagnosis of night blindness was wrong." He paused a moment and allowed his words to sink in. "My eyes were just scarred from a bout of toxoplasmosis I had as a child. One short session of laser surgery and my eyes are fine."

Mac slumped back into the couch as the enormity of his words washed over her. "Flying," she whispered.

He nodded once, peering intently at her face. Harm cleared his throat and mentally aimed the gun and fired. "I've asked the admiral for a change in designator. I want to go back to flying."

His words ripped through her, tearing open the barely healed wounds of Chloe's departure and creating new ones to accompany them. Leaving. He would be leaving. She stared unseeing at her hands as they rested lightly in her lap. Mac watched as one of his larger hands moved and clasped hers tightly. "Mac," he prompted, "say something."

She licked her lips, trying to form words. "When do you leave?"

"Day after tomorrow."

Closing her eyes, she steeled herself against the resurgence of pain and nodded. "I guess you need to pack, then, huh?"

Harm inhaled sharply. This was exactly the reaction he had expected, but expectation had done nothing to soften the impact. Still holding her hands in one of his, he raised the other to cup her cheek. "Mac, look at me."

She reluctantly raised her eyes and felt the warm caress of his thumb on her cheek in response. "I'm leaving JAG," he swore solemnly. "Not you. You have to understand. This is something I have to do." Gazing intently into her eyes, he continued, "Flying was taken away from me. And if I don't at least <try> to go back, I'll always wonder."

Mac nodded slightly and quickly blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. "I know," she replied softly, squeezing his hand for emphasis. "It's in your blood. It makes you who you are. But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

His mouth quirked softly at her attempt to joke. "No," he whispered, "you don't have to like it. You only have to love me."

Her eyes widened at his remark and he prodded, "You do, don't you?"

Closing her eyes, she tilted her face and kissed his palm. "I do," she answered. 

Harm leaned toward her, stopping a few centimeters from her mouth. "The feeling's mutual," he breathed against her lips. 

Mac sealed their lips on the rush of his declaration and the foundations of her world shook. Fire ignited his blood as he lightly licked then sucked her lower lip. Trailing his fingers across her cheek, he speared them through the wispy ends of her hair and tilted her head slightly. Mac groaned and opened her mouth to slide her tongue into the warm recesses of his mouth. For long, sweet moments, their tongues tangled and taunted, learning the taste and texture of each. As the kiss grew in intensity, she gripped the sleeves of his shirt tightly and tugged him down on top of her. Harm groaned his approval and parted her legs with his thigh as he slipped his hands under her untucked shirt. Much to his surprise, he found her braless. 

Mac, realizing his ultimate destination, twined her fingers in his hair and whispered, "Don't."

"I want to taste you," he argued.

"No, this isn't about you or me," Mac murmured fervently, stroking his face with her thumbs. "This is about us." 

Hearing the unspoken sentiment in her words, Harm moved back up and peered intently into her dark eyes. "I'm not Eddie, Mac. And I'm sure as hell not Chris or Dalton. I won't leave you. I can't. Just like you can't leave me." He paused and placed his hand in the valley between her breasts. "No matter where I may be in the world or what we choose to do with our careers, I'll always be here. In your heart. Just as you are in mine. We can hold on to each other that way."

Mac felt her eyes well up and a teary smile graced her lips. "How do you know exactly what to say to me?" she marveled. 

His lips widened into a loving grin and he replied, "I guess I'm quick study."

"Ha!" she laughed, warmed by their promise. "If you were a quick study, we would have done this two years ago."

His eyes lit up at her words and he murmured, "Then I guess we shouldn't waste any more time." 
 

Major Sarah MacKenzie's apartment 
Washington, D.C. 
May 25, 1999 
0526 Romeo

As the morning sunlight streamed in through the curtains, Harm woke to the comforting feel of a warm body wrapped around his. Knowing instinctively it was Mac, he smiled with contentment and squeezed her softly. For a moment, he relished in the utopic feeling that filled him. Then reality crashed his idyllic interlude. 'Damn!' he thought regretfully.

Biting back a groan of frustration, Harm kissed her temple lightly then eased out of her arms. Mac sleepily mumbled something that resembled his name and he whispered, "I've got to go back to my apartment and get ready. I'll see you in a little while." He kissed her once more and she settled back into dreamland. Grabbing his clothes, he quickly tugged them on and spared a glance back to her sleeping form. With a murmured, "I love you," he quietly left.

***

There's something out there left for you 
But it's not me. 
We reached the point of no return it's only right 
I set you free 
I know I'll have to turn away 
But there's nowhere for my love to go 
And there won't come a day 
When I won't honor what we've vowed

But I'll go on with my life 
We can even say goodbye for now if 
If that's what we have to do 
But here in my heart 
Even when my arms are empty, darlin' 
I'm still holdin' onto you.

***

JAG Headquarters 
Falls Church, Virginia 
0924 Romeo

Harm walked out of Chegwidden's office feeling lighter than he had in years. He was going to fly again and he had Mac's solemn promise to wait for him. As he headed back to the bull pen, he saw Clayton Webb hurriedly making his way toward the admiral's inner sanctum. 'Well, that's one person I'll be happy not to have to deal with!' he thought and walked on.

"Admiral," Webb began as soon as he entered the office. "There is a situation developing in Saudi..."

"That you, for some reason, need my people to get involved in," the admiral barked.

"Not people, person," the CIA agent corrected. Accepting the admiral's glower over the semantics as permission to continue, Webb finished, "I need Major MacKenzie to help in a rescue operation. Her linguistic skills are better than any other person at Langly. I've already spoken with the SecNav and he's given his approval for her to be temporarily reassigned."

"Wait a second, Webb! 'Temporarily reassigned?'" Chegwidden rose from his seat and narrowed his eyes. "In case you don't know, I'm going to be a little short- staffed by tomorrow. I can't spare her to go on some half-cocked CIA mission."

"Right, Rabb's change of designator," Webb dismissed. "The SecNav realizes this and has still approved the major's involvement. You've been overruled, Admiral. All that we need now is her consent. And I think what the SecNav is offering in trade will sweeten the deal."

Chegwidden sighed and continued to fume as he punched his intercom. "Tiner! Tell Major MacKenzie to get in here ASAP!"

Comfortable with his position of leverage, Webb paced easily around the office as the two men waited for Mac. The door opened a couple of minutes later and Mac entered and stood at attention.

"At ease, Major," Chegwidden order. "Mr. Webb here has an assignment for you."

Curious and just a bit wary, Mac looked over to the man in question. "It's more like an opportunity. The SecNav has given his OK. If you agree, you'll be temporarily reassigned to the CIA as an operative." Webb paused a moment as if deciding how much to disclose without her agreement. 

"The family of the Israeli ambassador to Saudi Arabia has been kidnapped in an effort to influence the Israeli dealings with a faction of a left wing Saudi group."

"Why aren't the Israelis handling this?" Chegwidden asked pointedly from his behind his desk.

"To be honest, they don't want the exposure. If the faction finds out they're taking this circumstance as seriously as they are, it'll be open season on all Mid- East diplomats."

Mac nodded and asked, "So how would I help?"

Webb glanced at Chegwidden and then walked toward the other side of the room before replying. "Your mission is two-edged. You would go in as a Saudi and infiltrate the faction and find out where they're holding the hostages, while you're there, you need to learn as much about them as possible. This group popped up out of nowhere."

"How long will the 'temporary' reassignment be?" Chegwidden asked, his displeasure obvious.

Instead of looking at the source of the question, Webb stared intently at the major. "As long as it takes. Could be a couple of weeks. Could be a couple of months."

Mac nodded with understanding as her mind worked its way through his words. 

"If you succeed, Mac," Webb continued, "the SecNav has guaranteed you promotion to lieutenant colonel. Even with the Admiral's Mast on your record."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you'll return to JAG and everything will go back to normal. But this is your chance, Mac. Not only will you be helping several families, you'll also be helping yourself, your career."

Mac inhaled softly and tried to hear what her Uncle Matt would advise. The idea was thrilling to say the least. Especially since Harm would be leaving soon. At length, she looked each man in the eye and said, "Sign me up."
 

JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia 
May 25, 1999
1006 Romeo

"Looks like you're not the only who's leaving JAG, flyboy," Mac commented as she walked into his office and closed the door. A slight, mysterious smile graced her lips. "Webb has offered me an assignment and I've accepted."

"Mac!" he chastised with a worried frown.

"Now before you get upset, listen to me," she interrupted, excited by the prospect of the mission. "If I complete the mission successfully I'm guaranteed a promotion. No more waiting, no more worry about my record. Guaranteed, Harm!" Moving the paper-filled box toward the middle of the desk, she perched on the edge and looked down at him.

"What do you have to do to get it?" he asked grimly as he leaned forward to play with her hand.

"I'm going undercover in Saudi Arabia to help rescue the family of the Israeli diplomat."

"What the hell?" he exploded. He bolted from the chair, sending it flying back against the wall. "Mac, what are you thinking? Does this have anything to do with my leaving?"

"You said it yourself, Harm. We have to go on with our lives. To be the people we're meant to be." She moved toward him and gently cupped his cheek. "I'm not reneging on my promise. But I don't think I can work here without you as my partner. Brumby just can't fill your shoes. I love JAG, but this will give me the chance to see what else I can do." She paused, the love in her eyes reinforced by determination. "I accepted and support your choice; can you do the same for me?"

He gazed down into her pleading dark eyes and nodded with reluctance. "If something happened to you " Harm trailed off, holding her shoulders in his vise-like grip. 

"I know," she replied with a soft smile, "Webb's life would be worthless."

"Webb's life? Hell no, my life." He touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, his heart once again at war with his dreams.

"Shhh," she soothed and placed a light finger against his lips. "I'll be here when you get back. And you'll be here when I get back."

***

We can't deny that this one's 
Out of our control 
Stronger than the both of us 
And bound to take it's toll 
I can stand the test of time 
And as far as I can see 
There are no walls that we can't climb 
Standin' between you and me 
But I'll go on with my life

We can even say goodbye for now if
If that's what we have to do 
But here in my heart 
Even when my arms are empty darlin' 
I'm still holdin' onto you

***

If we had both just stayed at JAG, things would be different. He would still be here and I'd be bouncing grandchildren on my knees. But no, we had to leave. He wanted to return to his past in the air while I wanted a shot at a future in the Marines. 

***

Somewhere in the An Nafud
Saudi Arabia 
September 10, 1999 
0614 Romeo

Mac lifted the veil that protected her face from the harsh desert sun and wind and peered into the horizon. No doubt about it, she was going to have visitors. The blurry edges of the sand dunes couldn't mask the tell- tale signs of a car. 

Good, it was just as well. She needed to get the information she had in her possession out of the country and into Clayton Webb's hands as soon as possible. The Israeli ambassador's family was rescued well over a month ago, but the lieutenant colonel had stayed in the field. Not only was the undercover work a challenge, it was also a welcome way to disappear from herself and the woman that Harm knew and loved. It eased the ache of their separation. At least sometimes. But in other times, particularly during the quiet, cool nights, she could swear she heard his voice on the desert breeze. Every time she'd see a plane flying overhead, whether commercial or military, she couldn't help but look up and silently send him her love. 

Blinking her eyes against the bright sun, Mac stepped back into her car to await the arrival of her contact. Webb had said he would send someone they both trusted, but she was unsure who that would be. Having spent little to no time at Langly, she knew relatively few agents. As scary as the thought was, she would just have to rely on Webb's judgment. She didn't have much choice after all. 

Mac took a sip out of the bottle of water she'd brought with her. Somehow she'd forgotten how dry the desert was. It easily evaporated the moisture even out of one's own mouth. Replacing the cap, she pulled the computer disk out of its hiding place and slid it into a protective casing. It wouldn't do for two months work to be rendered totally useless by the elements. 

The approaching car pulled to a stop a few feet from her own and a tall figure stepped out. Mac's eyes widened with shock. Webb's words replayed through her mind as she absorbed every plane of her contact's face. 

Harm.

She bolted from the car and rushed into his arms, heedless of the possibility that he had company. He caught her easily and held her tight against him, savoring the feel of her lithe body as it molded against his. Neither spoke a word, refusing to break the spell that seemed to surround them. After a pair of minutes, Harm pulled back to stare into the dark eyes that had haunted his every waking moment since he'd returned to flying. 

"God, I've missed you," he murmured as his gaze slid over her face. He buried his hands in her hair, sending her veil askew and lowered his mouth to hers in a searing kiss of welcome. Tongues danced across each other as they kissed with the easy familiarity of long-time lovers. Mac tore her lips from his, desperate for her next breath even as she craved the feel of his mouth. Panting slightly, their gazes locked and she whispered, "I guess I can believe Webb after all." His brow wrinkled in confusion and she smiled. "He promised to send someone we both trusted to pick up the documents."

Harm traced her cheek with his palm and replied, "I'm here for more than to pick up the disk. Webb told me to drop the intel off at a specified location. After he gets the data, he said we're on our own. At least for the day."

A day. Only a day. But after 5 months 2 weeks and 2 days, she would take anything she could get. Mac combed her fingers through the short, dark strands of his hair and murmured, "Then let's not waste any more time."

The drive back to Rafha passed quickly. Every other minute, Mac glanced into her rearview mirror until she caught herself and rolled her eyes. He had come back to her; he wasn't going to ditch her this late in the game. Once they arrived in the city limits, she watched as he pulled back and steered his car away from her. They had agreed to meet at Hotel Al Fahiq in an hour, giving each ample time to cover their tracks. 

As planned, Mac left the car she had driven for the past week near an abandoned building and, after removing all traces that she'd been in it, hopped in a cab about two streets down. Not surprisingly, she arrived at the hotel first. 

She slipped into her room unnoticed and quickly pulled a small device out of one of the many folds in her garb. Flicking a switch, the machine brightened and began to test the room for bugs. She sighed resignedly when it began to pulse at an increasing rate as she neared the window. This was the one part of intel work she'd never get used to. Why people planted bugs, knowing full well they would only be removed, was beyond her. What a useless waste of time. 

Plucking a small listening device from underneath the window sill, she peered carefully at it, then promptly moved to flush it down the toilet. The detector's pulsing stopped, but she continued to rove about the room, making doubly sure that no one would be listening. 

'Though they might get an interesting show,' she thought with a sly smile.

After satisfying her need for privacy, Mac shut the machine off and stowed it and her gun in a locked case under the bed. She quickly stripped off her native garments in favor of a loose, long sleeved, linen shirt. 

A sharp rap on the door interrupted her movements to fasten the top buttons. She walked quietly toward the door and glanced through the peep-hole. While part of herself chastised her actions, the other more logical side applauded them. Even though she knew it would be Harm, she still had to be cautious.Harm couldn't wait to finally get her alone again. The memories they had created a little over five months ago didn't begin to live up to the reality of her in his arms. He opened his mouth to murmur some sort of greeting as the door opened, but as he fully absorbed the wanton picture she made, the words died on his lips. 

Barging his way into the room, he gripped the back of her neck and pulled her forcefully to him, sealing their lips together in a fiery bond more potent than the kiss they'd shared in the desert. Mac gasped with surprise, but quickly fell into the rhythm their bodies recreated. They stood there long minutes, simply enjoying the ability to lose themselves in each other. 

Harm ran his hands down her arms then back up her sides, bunching and releasing handfuls of the soft linen along the way. Mac moaned lightly as his knuckles brushed the undersides of her breasts. She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer until no space remained between them. At length, he reluctantly broke away and whispered with a smile, "I know you're now a legitimate spy, so I have to ask. Is the room clean?"

She chuckled lightly and murmured against his lips, "Yep, the cleaning lady even made a stop while I was out."

The warm combination of love and desire flooded him once more as he gazed into her dark eyes. 'This beautiful woman loves me,' he marveled silently. 'She loves me and she's willing to accept this kind of life for me.' His thoughts sobered him instantly and Mac's brow furrowed with worry as she noticed the change. 

"What's wrong, Harm?" she asked, cupping his cheek.

"Mac this kind of life ... seeing each other only every few months ."

"Shh," she soothed. "I've made my decision, Harm. I'm with you forever, even if it isn't such an idyllic situation right now. Someday it will be."

That said, she softly placed her lips against his and inhaled, tasting his essence and letting him taste hers. 

An hour later, Mac awoke to find herself tucked under the bedcovers, with Harm wrapped around her. He squeezed her slightly when he heard her breathing change and whispered, "Wow!"

A wide grin split her face and she snuggled back into him. "You weren't too bad yourself, flyboy!" she answered, lightly stroking his forearms. 

They fell silent for a moment, the Harm murmured, "I want this, Mac. I want this for the rest of our lives. Come out. Come back to me."

She turned in his arms to face him, sobering at his words. Staring into his light blue eyes, she shook her head. "Much as I want to, Harm, I can't."

"Why not? The diplomat's family is safe? What else is keeping you here?"

"My mission isn't finished yet. That faction is still out there and has a chance of growing more powerful if I don't stay." She paused and lovingly traced his cheek. "I have to finish this. If I didn't and something happened because of it, I couldn't live with myself."

Harm nodded reluctantly and brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. Fingering it gently, he replied, "That's one of the reasons why I love you so much. Your integrity and loyalty know no bounds."

She softly kissed him, relishing in the light feel of his lips against hers. "I will always be here with you," she promised and, deepening the kiss, began to make good on her vow. 

***

American Embassy 
Amman, Jordan 
May 19, 2000 
1324 Romeo

Mac sat, dressed in uniform, in an overstuffed leather chair awaiting Webb's arrival, her mission complete after almost a year of undercover work. The happy smile that tinged her lips was appropriately enough accompanied by a far away look in her eyes. 

This was it! It was over. She and Harm would finally be together. Two weeks ago, she had received a confidential letter in care of the embassy. Enclosed in the envelope was a single sheet of paper citing a change of designator with the name "Harmon Rabb Jr." listed at the top. He was going back to JAG. 

Having proven his worth as a pilot, their rendez-vous last September had reminded him that there was more to life than flying. His request had been perfectly timed to coincide with the closing of her investigation. And now they would be together. 

Mac thought it fitting that they would both arrive at Dulles on May 24th; a year to date from the first time they'd made love. It was providence, she had decided. 

The door opened, startling her from her reverie and Mac stood to greet the new arrival. "Clay! It's good to see you," she remarked with a warm smile.

Webb nodded in return and answered, "I'm going to hate losing you, Mac. You've done a helluva job with this assignment. Are you sure I can't talk you into another? There's a situation blowing up in Iraq "

Shaking her head, she replied, "Not in a million years, Webb. I've satisfied my curiosity, now it's time for me to go home and settle down."

"With Rabb?" he asked, although he already knew her response.

She nodded, her eyes lighting up at the mere mention of his name. 

Webb sighed dramatically. "Alright then, if you want the job of keeping him in line for the rest of your days, you're welcome to it! Though I think being a spy would be easier."

"I think it would, too!" she chuckled good-naturedly. 

The agent was about to reply when someone knocked hurriedly on the door and then entered. A young aide, looking haggard and just a bit fearful, glanced between Mac and Webb before speaking. "Sir, I think you need to see what just came on ZNN." The man walked over to the far wall and opened the cabinet doors, revealing state- of-the-art surveillance equipment including a big screen TV. He flipped to the appropriate channel and backed away.

For a moment, all the small group could see was blue sky and a yellow desert, then the camera panned back to a weathered-looking reporter in a flak jacket. 

"We regret to report that two F-14 planes, commonly known as 'Tomcats,' crashed just a few minutes ago. Though reports are sketchy, apparently the two pilots were completing a training mission when the trainee lost sight of his superior and ran into him. Both pilots and their Radio Intercept Officers, or RIOs, were killed.

On a personal note, the trainer had recently undergone a change of designator and was planning on returning state- side to another assignment. Once again, two F-14 Tomcats crashed into each other while on a training mission. And all hands were killed."

Mac slumped back into her chair overcome with shock and disbelief. "No," she whispered as she gripped the arm rests. "No, no, this can't happen "

Webb inhaled sharply and forcefully reined in his emotions. Turning to the aide, he murmured, "Get me more information, <now>!" The agent walked slowly over to Mac and watched as her head lolled against the back of the chair. Clasping her hand, he said futilely, "Mac, we don't know anything for sure. There are hundreds of pilots in the Navy and any number of them could have been on training runs."

She forced her pain-filled gaze to Webb and whispered, "It was him. It was Harm. God, how could I be so stupid. Of course, we'd never live happily ever after. That never happens to me."

"Shh, Mac," he soothed as he pried her fingers off of the arm rests and wrapped her hands in his. "You'll have the fairy tale. One day you will."

She shook her head sadly. "Don't you get it, Clay? He was it. We promised." Closing her eyes tightly against the huge tears that welled in her eyes, she turned away just as the aide returned.

The young man motioned to Webb, who stood and walked toward him. "I'm sorry, sir. But it was Commander Rabb. Apparently the trainee lost Rabb in the sun and flew straight at him. Neither pilot had a chance." The aide's face filled with remorse as he looked toward Mac. Everyone in the embassy had known of her plans to leave intel work and return to be with Rabb. 

Mac bolted from the chair and murmuring, "I've got to get out of here," ran out the door and into the streets. Webb watched as she left, helpless to stop her, to ease the heartbreak. After she disappeared from sight, he nodded to his aide and directed, "Make the arrangements for her to meet up with the body and take it home."

Mac stared out into the open desert, the blazing sun blinding her to everything but the continuous expanse of sand. Sobs racked her body and she fell to her knees, her hands gripping the sand as if it would somehow steady the emotional storm that buffeted her. As the tears streamed down her cheeks, a soft desert wind began to blow drying them much like Harm's fingers had at one time. "Harm!" she cried plaintively even as she heard his voice on the breeze.

["I'm here, Mac. I'll always be here. I love you."]

Knowing she was hallucinating, that it was only wishful thinking, she whispered, "What am I going to do without you?"

["You'll figure something out, Mac. You've always been strong."]

And just as quickly as it had risen, the breeze died, leaving her with nothing but an overwhelming ache and the echo of a promise made long ago.

***

And there's a place you'll always be 
No matter where you are 
You're here with me 
When the world is turning upside down 
Together we can stand our ground

We can even say goodbye for now if 
If that's what we have to 
But here in my heart 
Even when my arms are empty darlin' 
I'm still holding onto you

***

We, Harm's family and I, buried him five days later on the anniversary that was known only to him and me. Somehow I managed to hold myself together through the ceremony. But when the diggers tossed that first shovel- full of dirt over the casket, I lost it. Part of myself was already down there and the only thing left was for me to join him. Frank and the admiral had to physically hold me back. I struggled so hard with them that I managed to give Chegwidden a black eye and Frank a busted lip, but still they held me. 

I don't remember much about the following weeks. Over the years, they've blurred together so that only painful, fleeting images remain. I guess it was a couple of months after the funeral that I found myself walking into CIA Headquarters and asking to see Clay. There was no way I could return to JAG and intel work had allowed me to become another person. It was a way to hide; I fully admit it. But that was how I'd learned to heal in the past so it seemed to be easiest way to do so then. 

I just didn't realize how long the healing process would take this time. I stayed until today or rather, until two days ago. 

Some of my collegues said I have a death wish and maybe I do. All I know is that I am tired, of this job, of my life. I had been working on securing a set of documents from the Chinese-dominated Russian government when the informant I was meeting suddenly turned on me. Trite, I know, and unexpected, for this was a man I had been cultivating for months. But what was it Alexi had said? "I work for the highest bidder, boss." Yeah, that was it. Apparently, I hadn't anted up when the bidding began again. And so, he looked me dead in the eye and shot me twice in the chest at point blank range. 

The synthetic vest I wore that was proven to stop bullets did nothing to stop these. Must be something new out on the black market. Just another example of how far I'd gotten behind in the game.

The doctors and nurses have done what they can, but even they know their limits. And it's alright. I've stayed in the dance long enough to know it's time go home. 

Clay came to visit me yesterday, and I could tell he knew the truth, too. He was sweet, though, sitting by my bed holding my hand and telling me funny stories from our past. Stories that hadn't been funny at the time, but in light of our current occupations and specialties, were now funnier than hell. 

No one has come today, except for the nurses who check my vitals every hour on the hour. But somehow, I know I'll have one last visitor before I go. And if I'm lucky, he will come today.

It's been more than twenty years since I last saw him. Since I last felt the warm weight of his hand in mine and the soft pressure of his lips. I glance toward my door and realize just how lucky I am. 

A hazy figure stands just inside the room. The years fall away and we are young again and in love. He's come to me one last time, wearing his familiar dress whites, the gold wings affixed to his breast gleam in the ethereal light that surrounds him. 

"Harm," I whisper as he half-floats, half-walks toward me. 

"Did you think I would forget our promise?" he asks lightly taking my hand. And I, once again, am transported back to the past as his mere touch gentles and inflames. He leans down and softly kisses me and suddenly, I feel free. The heaviness in my body no longer ties me to the bed. I sit up and glance around the room marveling at my ability to move so effortlessly. 

 It is then that I realize why. Looking back toward the bed, I see the woman I used to be. A large shock of white hair capping a face filled with world-weary lines. Lines that, even though I am only fifty-seven, are unsoftened in sleep. Or death. 

A slight chill shivers over me and I look uncertainly at Harm. His smile is not the wide flyboy one I loved so much. Instead, it is filled with comfort and encouragement. And, oh yes, love. Always love.

"Ready to go?" he asks as he squeezes my hand.

I take one last look at my prone human body and stand up. 

After all these years, we are still holding on. At first in our hearts, and now in our spirits. Always together. Always faithful.

As we walk from the room hand in hand, I pause and glance over my shoulder. I smile softly and whisper, "Semper Fi, Colonel Sarah MacKenzie." 

***

I'm still holdin' on to you 
When I'm gone, when I'm gone I'm holdin' on
 

Finis

Author's note: The song "Still Holding On" is sung by Clint Black and Martina McBride. Written by Clint Black, Matraca Berg, and Marty Stuart, it can be found on Martina's CD, Evolution.