Title: The Bombing
Author: Anne Taul, anne_taul@gowebway.com

Summary: The JAG building is bombed.

Disclaimer: Jag, Characters, Premise, etc belong to CBS, Paramount, Bellasarius, etc. Al. I'm just having fun!

 

The Bombing

Harmon Rabb, Jr. shook himself suddenly awake, not having realized that he had fallen asleep. He checked his wristwatch, 0900. Oh no, he was late for work. He'd been up writing the investigative report from one of his cases, and really hadn't meant for this to happen. In very short order, he'd had a quick shower, shave and slipped into his khaki naval uniform. He knew the admiral was going to be furious. And Mac, she was never late for anything, so she'd give him a really hard time. She'd probably go out during her lunch hour and buy him an alarm clock, or something like that, to further tease him and drive her point home. As he considered this, he knew he wouldn't mind. He never really minded Mac's teasing. He had more fun with her than any one else he'd ever known.

Thinking about Mac seemed to ease his stress a little, he wondered why. He was still in trouble. It was not intentionally that he would ever let Admiral Chegwidden down. The man was a hero to him, and a friend, unlike any C.O. he'd served under during his career.

The case had been long and confusing. It wasn't until the wee hours of this morning that he'd been able to figure out the angle for drawing the conclusions that had made his report possible. The report (he glanced down at it in a file folder on the car seat next to him) was good ­very good, in fact. It might be impressive enough to redeem his tardiness, maybe. The admiral always appreciated good work.

When he received this assignment, it seemed unlikely that he would really make much headway. There had been several bombings on U..S. military bases in foreign countries, causing a great deal of damage. The Pentagon hadn't been able to identify a terrorist group responsible, but they were obviously connected. The problem arose when several large corporations, both domestic and international, filed lawsuits against the military claiming negligence, and in some cases breach of contract dealing with supplies and materials related to the explosions. He was supposed to draft government responses to these petitions. Only he knew that the admiral wanted him to work closely with the CIA agents on the case to find out, not only who had done it, but how they had planted the devices. The who wasn't too difficult. They identified a radical, militant branch of a Middle Eastern Islamic group. The how was a little tougher. Eventually he discovered service records for ex -marine Sargent Danny English. English had departed the Corp a bit disgruntled. He resurfaced as a trainee in the P.L.O. several years ago. His knowledge of the American military system had made it easy for him to infiltrate bases around the world. He had explosive devices shipped in with training materials and planted them in locations where they wouldn't be detected, with triggers he could access remotely, until his organization was ready to use them. This information, months in the gathering, would surely exonerate the United States of responsibility in these tragedies. He was anxious to see the admiral's reaction. Surely his commanding officer would be proud of him.

The corvette turned into the parking lot of Jag headquarters in Falls Church, Virginia as if by itself. Harm could see immediately that something was wrong. Fire engines, police cars and ambulances were lined up in front of the entrance. Harm exited the car and ran into the building. At one point he had to muscle his way past the police guards who tried to stop him from entering the building. The elevator was out of order, so he took the stairs, several at a time.

As he entered the bullpen, he was met by Ensign Harriet Roberts.

She looked at him and said, "Commander, you shouldn't be here, Sir. They've evacuated the building."

He sighed heavily, "What's going on Harriet? Why are you here, if they've evacuated the building?"

"Sir, it's a bomb threat. Somebody called the switchboard about a half hour ago. The bomb squad and the dogs are looking to see if it's for real. I'm waiting for Bud. I won't leave without him."

"Where's Bud?"

"He's conducting the search teams around the building. You know, with the schematics and all, so they won't miss anyplace where a bomb could be hidden. I just wish he wasn't such a hero."

"Yeah, me too. Go on, Harriet, get out of here. I'll wait for Bud. I promise."

At that precise moment, a column of people and barking dogs came running down the hall, led by Lt. Bud Roberts yelling, "This way. This way." As he raced past them, he told Harm and Harriet, "Come on, we've got to get out now."

Once outside the building, Harm asked him what was so urgent. He answered, "One of the dogs picked up some kind of scent that indicated that an explosive fuse had burned out and an acid bomb was ready to blow. The expert said it was probably going to go off any minute.

Harm saw the admiral standing talking to Tiner and Imes, a few yards away. Mattoni was with another group, a little farther back. Bud and Harriet were with him. He made a mental list of all the personnel in the Jag office and searched to find each of them. He'd let Mac know everybody was out, she often worried about those kinds of things. Mac! He hadn't seen Mac! His eyes scanned the entire area to locate her. He didn't see her.

Harm quickly worked his way over to where the admiral was standing, and interrupting his conversation, asked, "Sir, where's Mac?"

Chegwidden swept the surroundings with his eyes. "I don't see her, Commander." Turning to the others standing with him, he inquired, "Where's Major MacKenzie?"

There were several answers of "I haven't seen her, Sir" or "I don't know, Sir"

Carolyn Imes volunteered, "She was in court this morning. The Hensely court-martial. It was going to be a long one. I'll bet part of her was glad to get this break in it."

"That's not funny, Commander." The admiral corrected.

"No, Sir." Was her reply.

Turning to Harm, the Judge Advocate General suggested, "Look near the other personnel from the courtroom. They probably all came out together."

Harm did look, but he didn't see anybody he thought should have been in the courtroom. He grabbed the arm of a passing police officer, "Where are the people who were evacuated from the courtroom on the first floor?"

"The first floor? We were told that there were no offices on the first floor, so we didn't evacuate anybody from there. Are there people still in there? Oh, no."

Harm didn't wait to hear him finish. He was already charging back toward the building.

AJ Chewidden reached out with both hands and grasped the collar of Harm's uniform to slow him down, then threw a strong arm in front of his chest to block his way and hold him back. "You're not going back in there, son."

The younger officer tried, unsuccessfully, to pry away the arm. He yelled, "Sir, Mac's still in there."

"Maybe not, Commander."

At that moment, the ground shook and the air turned fiery red and black with smoke, as they watched the building crumble before their eyes. The police moved them all farther back, as the firefighters began battling the blaze.

Harm sank to his knees, filled with panic and despair. He screamed his partner's name and fell to the ground.

He sobbed and shuttered all over. His mind was just shut down, he couldn't think at all. He was vaguely aware that people were watching him, staring at him, but he couldn't have cared, even if he'd wanted to.

He heard somebody say, "It's a shame about Major MacKenzie not getting out, but Commander Rabb is sure taking it hard."

The intended audience for this came back with, "Well, they were partners and close friends."

These things registered in Harm's mind, but he knew that this, while true, wasn't the whole story. There was something else, but he wasn't sure what it was.

After a while ("Mac would've known exactly how long," he thought to himself.) he stood up and spoke to the admiral, who hadn't left his side, and had kept everyone else away from him. "Sir, I'm sorry. She was my friend, but I'm not sure why I reacted that way."

"You're really not, Harm?"

"No, Sir."

"Son, you were in love with her, nobody can fault your reaction.." "In love with her? With Mac? No, sir. Where'd you get an idea like that? Did she tell you that?"

"No, Commander, she didn't have to tell me. You may not have known it, but it's true, Harm. I'd bet on it. I don't think I've ever seen a man more in love. Why do you think I assigned you to different cases for the last few months? I couldn't have you working too closely together, knowing how you felt about her."

"Admiral, sir, I don't know what you're talking about."

"That's okay, never mind. Are you alright, now?"

Harm avoided looking at him, instead concentrating on kicking pieces of debris with the toes of his shoes.

They stood there in silence for a few minutes until Bud came by and said, "Did you hear that, sirs? They think there may be survivors still in there."

Harm perked up, "What did you say?"

"I heard it on one of the radios, Sir. They think there could have been people in there, and they could have survived."

Commander Rabb grabbed the younger officer by both his shoulders and yelled, "Bud, Mac was in there. Tell me everything you know."

"Major MacKenzie? Sir, are you sure she was in there? All I know is on one of the paramedic's radios they were calling him saying he should be prepared because there could have been survivors."

Harriet walked into the conversation at this point with, "It's hard to believe anybody could have lived through that."

Harm came alive with new energy. Soon he had the Fire Marshall cornered and was interrogating him, unmercifully. All he got was, "Some of the fire fighters thought they heard some sounds and the dogs picked up some kind of scent. Don't get your hopes up, Sir. The chances that somebody lasted through that are..."

Not listening, Harm again charged forward toward the ruins of Jag headquarters.

The admiral made a gesture to Bud, and they each caught one of his arms as he went past, restraining him. He struggled and protested..

"Admiral, you don't understand. I've got to look in..."

Ignoring this, Chegwidden stopped a paramedic going past and requested, "We have a friend that didn't make it out. If they find survivors in there, could you please let us know? It's very important.."

"Sure. Can you describe your friend?"

Harm jumped in to field this one. "Yeah, She's beautiful. And she has these big brown eyes -- and the cutest little turned up nose.."

AJ Chegwidden cut him off and addressed the emergency medical worker, "Caucasian female, about 30. About so tall (holding up his hand.) Brown hair. Attractive"

"Thanks. I'll let you know if I hear anything."

The media, intrusive as ever in a crisis, swarmed the area. They seemed to further agitate Harm, so his C. O. kept him away from them. About 4 pm a television reporter doing live feed told all of the DC area that the rescue workers had located survivors and were beginning to treat them. Harm heard this and raced toward the paramedic he and the admiral had spoken to earlier, Chegwidden at his heels. "What'd they find?"

"Well, they've pulled some bodies out. I haven't heard, for sure, if any of the are still alive. I wouldn't get my hopes up." He excused himself, and left.

In a couple of minutes, he was back. "They found two people that are still alive, for now. They're both in bad shape, though. One of them is a woman. I don't know if it could be your friend."

This was all Harm needed. "Where? Where?"

The informant pointed to a group of firemen about 50 yards away. "Over there"

Commander Rabb was there before the man finished speaking.

He saw her immediately. He dropped to his knees, placed her head in his lap, and called her name. She didn't respond.

She was covered with dust and a black grimy film. Her face and arms were marred by multiple cuts and bruises. He thought, passingly to himself, that still she was beautiful.

The medical team surrounded them. Harm asked, "Is she going to be okay? What's going on?"

A young woman wearing a baseball cap pried open Mac's eyelids and shined a small flashlight at her pupils, then said, " She's got one major concussion and she's suffering from traumatic shock. She may be lapsing into a coma." After she'd said this, she turned and literally barked at the people around her, "Give me two large bore IVs with Ringers'Lactate wide open and some Mast trousers. Somebody immobilize her C-spine. Where's the cervical collar? And while you're at it give her some oxygen, by mask. Watch those pupils ­let me know if there's any change, even a little." She turned to a policeman standing nearby and said, "Call the ER, tell'em to have a neurologist and a CT scan waiting." With that she moved quickly to the other victim, a man, lying a few yards away.

Harm wasn't sure what any of that meant, but it didn't sound good to him. He knelt where he was and held Mac's hand until they loaded her on the ambulance. The couple of times he had to let go for the medical personnel to do their work, he felt guilty, like he had abandoned his friend. He wondered, in passing, why he felt that way. When they loaded her still, lifeless body onto the vehicle, he climbed aboard and went with her. He didn't ask permission, he just went.

The hospital emergency room was a crowded place, bustling with activity. It was filled to capacity with the injured and ill, all waiting for attention from an economized number of staffers. Harm and the still unconscious Mac were placed in a small cubical, and a curtain drawn to conceal them. After having waited a little while, anxious and impatient, Harm opened the curtain. He watched people scurry about in the hallway. He yelled to several of them, "Somebody hurry up! There's an injured woman in here who needs attention!"

A stern looking nurse came to stand in front of him, saying, "Someone will be with you as soon as possible. You're not the only patient needing attention. Please be patient." The curtain brushed his nose as she pulled it back shut.

He hated to admit it, but he was really worried. Mac was usually in control of what was happening to her, or she could take control. The only other time he'd seen her injured, they'd been stranded in the mountains, running from poachers. Even then, she could keep going, help determine her outcome. Now, there was nothing either of them could do. The doctors might not even be able to improve her condition, but right now they were the best hope he could think of. Then he remembered how strong and determined she was.

He stood beside her bed and took her hand in his, careful not to bend her arm, where the needle was taped down that ran fluids from a hanging bag into her vein. He held her hand and bent down so that his face was close to hers, and whispered in her ear. "I don't know whether you can hear me, but I hope you can. Because I want you to know that you're going to be okay. Everything's fine. These doctors are going to make you all better, them we're getting you a shower, because you're filthy." He smiled and squeezed her hand, then continued, "I want you to hold on. Fight hard. You've got to come back to me, and when you do, I'm gonna be right here. Do you hear me? Right here, I promise. So wake up!" He finished and looked at her dirty face. As he brushed a lock of hair away, he gently kissed her forehead. Then he stood back up, just in time to see the doctor walk in.

"Hi. I'm Dr. Rogers. Are you family?"

Harm considered this for a moment before answering. "Well, kind of."

"I'm sorry, sir. Either yes or no, no kind ofs, there are legal issues involved here.

"Then, yes."

"Good, we'll need you to sign some consent forms. The Cat scan showed some pressure in the brain and we're going to need to do a surgical procedure to alleviate it."

"Surgery? Are you sure that's necessary?"

"Actually it's just a needle decompression. I can't tell you that there's no risk involved, but it's minimally invasive. And yes, It's necessary . Without it, I'm afraid your friend doesn't have much of a chance."

Harm's blood ran cold. Obviously this was really serious.

"You can do whatever you need to, but I don't want to leave her."

"I'm afraid you'll have to step out in the hall. I'll have a nurse prep her. Why don't you fill out some of the paperwork at the desk?"

Harm squeezed the hand that he still held, stooped over, raised it to his lips and kissed it. He left the room, admonishing the doctor, "Let me know what's going on."

Two days later Harm hadn't left the hospital. Now he sat a twenty­four hour watch beside his partner's bed in the intensive care unit. He hadn't especially thought about why he was there, but it hadn't occurred to him to be anyplace else, either.

He looked down into her beautiful face, still scraped and bruised, but cleaned up now. He whispered, " I still don't know for sure if you can hear me, but I'm going to assume you can. You are so lovely tonight, I just wanted to tell you that. I wish you'd open your eyes, so I could see how beautiful they are. I miss you, Mac. I've got no one to tease. Come on, wake up. I've learned my lesson, I won't take you for granted anymore. Bud came by today to see you. He says they're real busy at work. They're all pitching in to make up for us not being there. Come on, now, we really ought to be getting back. He thought maybe I should come, but I told him you needed me. Don't worry, as long as you need me I'll be here. That's what friends are for."

On the afternoon of the third day, Admiral Chegwidden made a visit to the lonely hospital room. He told Harm, "Son, you look like hell. Go home, clean up and shave, or you'll scare her when she does wake up. You really aren't doing her any good just sitting here wearing yourself out."

"I appreciate the concern, Sir, but I can't leave. I have to be here when she wakes up."

"Okay, Commander, but I'm going to ask Lt.Roberts to bring you a razor and a change of clothes, so you can at least clean up a little."

"Thank you, Sir. And, Sir, thank you for understanding."

Shortly after that, hospital staff took Mac downstairs for another x-ray. While he waited for her return, he tried to think of something nice he could do for her to offset the shock she would feel, if she ever found out that he had let himself fall in love with her. Of course, she didn't feel the same way, so this might make her very uncomfortable. He didn't want that. He didn't want anything that wasn't good for her. She deserved only the best. He really wasn't too sure if he was the best thing for her, but he'd let her decide that, maybe.

Bud arrived in the evening with the provisions the admiral had requested. Harm found a place in the hospital where he could take a quick shower, shave and change clothes. Afterward, he felt much better. Sitting back down beside the bed, he gently touched the cheek of the woman he loved, whispering, " Time to wake up, Darling." He told her all about the plans he wanted them to make together. He spoke of the future he had dreamed of for them. Having filled her in on everything, he lay back in his chair and went to sleep.

This time he was awakened by someone urgently calling his name. The sound was sweet. He thought he recognized the voice. He did. It was Mac, his Mac. He was instantly awake, and peering into those beautiful, liquid brown eyes. "Hi," was all he could say.

She tugged at the hand that still held hers anxiously. "Harm, what happened? Where are we? What's going on? How long have I been out? Harm?"

He rang the call light to alert the nurses that she was awake, rose to leave as they came in, kissed her hand, and promised to tell all later. She looked at the hand he had kissed quizzically and sighed heavily. By this time she was swarmed with medical staff, checking out her every movement and reaction.

Walking through the mostly deserted hospital corridors, Harm was, once again. lost in thought. He was thankful that she was awake. How much should he tell her about his discovery concerning his feelings. The feelings themselves probably weren't new, only his awareness of them. They were strong, getting stronger all the time. But he wouldn't risk upsetting her during her recovery. He'd just stay with her, for now.

Harm was roused from an unintentional sleep by a gentle pressure on his arm. "Mac! You're awake!" he exclaimed, as he drifted into consciousness.

"No. It's only me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, Harm" this came in the voice of CIA special agent, Clayton Webb, a sometimes contrary and adversarial close friend of Mac's and Harm's.

"Webb, what are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to check up on you. How's she doing?"

"The doctors say about the same, but I can feel her getting stronger everyday. She'll be awake soon."

"I hope so, Harm. I do hope so. I hope that she wakes up so that you can finally tell her how you feel about her."

Harm looked a little puzzled, "What do you mean, Clay."

"Don't tell me you don't even know it yourself? Oh please! Harm, you're in love with her."

"No, Clay, you don't know what your talking about. She's my best friend, my partner, but nothing like what you're talking about. She'd laugh at that."

"Well, I'm not sure how she feels, really, but I know you Harm. I can tell how you feel about her when you look at her, or when you talk about her. My friend, you've got it bad."

"That's nonsense!"

"Believe whatever you want, Rabb. I can't stay, but be sure to give me a call if there's anything at all that I can do to help"

"Thanks, Clay. Find out who did this."

Harm thought about what Webb had said. He remembered that the admiral had said the same thing. "Where are these people getting this stuff?" he thought to himself. "Could they be right?"

He looked down at the quiet figure in the bed. She was so beautiful. Her face was shaped just perfectly. Her lips were round and full. He remembered that they were soft from the only time they had ever pressed against his, comforting him as he said goodbye to an old friend.

"Why," he wondered, "did I never have the courage to tell her that when I kissed he that night on the docks, it was because I wanted to taste her lips, I wanted to feel close to her." In passing, he wondered why that had been so important to him.

Her hair was dark and silky. It fell just right to form a perfect frame around her face, even now.

Her body was firm and perfectly proportioned. He felt funny looking at her body that way, with longing. After all, she was his partner, his best friend. He admired and respected her. He would never want to be degrading toward her. But she looked good.

Holding her hand and staring into her peaceful, sleeping face, he thought about all that they had shared. They had worked together, played together, faced danger together, shared secrets and confidences and much more. Their bond was unlike any he'd ever shared with another person. He would rather be with her than anyone else. She had to wake up, to get better. He just couldn't lose her, not now. The urge to pick her up and hold her close was powerful, but he ignored it. Instead he bent to kiss her cheek.

Harm fell asleep at the bedside and dreamed, wonderful dreams. His mind was filled with visions of the future. He could see a warm summer evening at a small house, a yard filled with children and love. A sensation of happiness swept through him, and he knew this was what his life should be. He saw sand castles and swing sets and.....Mac. Where'd she come from? She didn't belong in a dream about his perfect future. As he realized this, the whole picture fell apart and disappeared. This surprised him. The reality of what it actually meant slowly dawned on him as he reached a state of wakefulness. He squeezed the hand of his sleeping companion as he confessed, "They were all right. I am in love with you, Sarah MacKenzie. I don't know how I'm going to tell you that when you're awake. Maybe I won't, at least not for a while."

The next day, when she finally opened her eyes and said his name, Harm felt the whole world begin again. He had new hope, a new promise. Her big brown eyes were the most wonderful thing he had ever seen.

Three days later, a full week after the explosion that helped forever change his life, Harmon Rabb had still not left the hospital. After initially telling him thanks, but no thanks for his help, Mac now let himtake care of things for her. She had realized that she needed him, and he was delighted. He liked for her to depend on him, so he made sure that she knew that she could, in every way. He was concerned that Webb and his spies hadn't yet been able to determine who had been responsible for the bombing, but now that his partner was recovering, he wasn't quite as worried. Clay had assured him that the search was narrowing.

After a lunch, which she downed with a ravenous appetite, Mac, now sitting propped up in the hospital bed, asked Harm if he would hand her a glass of water. He reached for it, only to find that it was on a table on the opposite side of the bed. He leaned across her, his long arm outstretched. When his face passed very close to hers, their cheeks touching, he was acutely aware of the proximity. He would have loved to have taken this opportunity to kiss her, but he didn't dare. On his way back across, they again passed closely, and what happened surprised him! As his nose brushed past her cheek, Mac reached up to lay a hand along the cheek and pulled his head closer. She touched her soft lips to his and giggled a little, then she pulled back and sternly apologized.

"Are you really sorry?" he asked.

"Aren't you?" she replied.

"I asked you first, Major."

"Well, then," she began as she wrapped her arms around his neck and forced his head closer until his mouth was right above hers, "I'm not really sorry." She covered his mouth with hers and initiated a long, deep kiss.

By the time it finally ended he was sitting on the side of the bed so that his head was directly over hers. "In that case, I'm not sorry, either. As a matter of fact, I'm glad."

"Me too," she agreed.

He kissed her again, with even more intensity.

After a few more, she looked up into his eyes. "Harm, I didn't think you'd do this. I mean, it's bound to effect our working relationship.."

"I suppose it will. That's why I was so surprised that you started this."

"I don't want you to think less of me, but I just couldn't help myself. You see, I've wanted to do that for so long, when it was really me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I wanted you to kiss me, not somebody I reminded you of."

"Sarah, you don't remind me of anybody else."

"Sarah? Oh, my!"

He leaned down to kiss her forehead and said, "Now you need to rest. We'll talk later."

"Harm, I can't tell you about what I feel, but will you do something for me?"

"Sure, I'll do anything for you. And, Sarah, you can tell me anything. Of course I want to know how you feel."

"I can't tell you, not right now, but will you hold me in your arms? Just for a minute, I mean."

Excited, he draped his arms around her and lay his head on her shoulder.

"Not like that,' she said. "up here, beside me."

Without even thinking about it, he lay down on the bed beside her, wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her body very close to his.

The next day they made plans for the possibility of her release from the hospital.

"You'll stay with me so I can take care of you. The doctor said you needed someone to stay with you for a while."

"Exactly, someone to stay with me. So you can come stay with me at my place."

"Mac, it wouldn't look good, me staying at your place. People might talk."

"So, what? I don't care what people say. It wouldn't be any different than my staying with you."

He resigned himself with an amused look, "Okay. I'll do whatever you want, as long as you promise to keep getting better."

"Deal"

She lay on the living room sofa, surrounded by books. Harm answered the doorbell when it rang, and came toward her carrying a large vase of flowers. "For you," he told her.

"They're beautiful," she gushed, "oh, Harm, you shouldn't have.."

"I didn't," he corrected her.

"Then, who...."

He read the card. "best wishes for a speedy recovery, Danny English"

Harm almost dropped the flowers. She asked him, "Who's Danny English?"

"Sarah, Dear, do you remember the case I was working on about the military base bombings?"

"Yes."

"Well, he's the culprit."

Tears welled up in his eyes as he sat beside her, taking her in his arms. "It's my fault that he did this to you. And now he knows where we are."

"Don't give yourself so much credit. It's not your fault, and you can't know why he did it, if he did do it."

"I won't let him get close to you. He's gone underground, but Webb may be able to use these flowers to track him down, I'll give him a call."

Commander Rabb was panic stricken. If anything had happened to her, and it was his fault. If some maniac was trying to exact revenge on him, and she got caught in the crossfire, well...he'd never forgive himself.

Since they had been released from the hospital, spending so much time together, he was more sure of his feelings than ever. Every time he looked into her eyes, he melted. He knew that he wanted to spend forever holding her hand, just talking with her. Part of him wished he could tell her how he felt, but he couldn't risk it. If he lost her respect and friendship, he couldn't go on living.

He felt that he could kill Danny English with his bare hands, but since that was impossible, he would have to hope for permission to take temporary duty with the U.S. Attorney's office, so he could help prosecute him. These thoughts filled his mind while he made a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen, but he was brought back to himself by Mac calling his name.

He rushed right to her side.

"Look at this, Harm," she requested, handing him a folder and a stack of papers.

He looked from one document to another. Handing them back to her, he said, "Well, it looks like Bud missed this statement in preparing his position. You better call him right away."

"I will. Sit down, Harm. Why are you so pensive lately?"

"Oh, I'm just worried about you. That's all."

"You don't need to, anymore. I'm doing much better."

"You certainly are. Mac, do you remember in the hospital, you said that you couldn't tell me what you were feeling. We've gotten so close, I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me things. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Well, it's probably time you knew."

"Knew what?"

"First, kiss me." She ordered as she took his face in both her hands. "Yes, ma'am". He enclosed her in his arms and captured her waiting mouth with his.

She responded fully, resisting when he finally tried to pull away. Eventually, she fell back to a supine position on the couch, ending it. He continued to hover over her. She was out of breath, but began to speak anyway. "I've been so afraid to tell you this, but..."

"Afraid to tell me?"

"Yeah, I don't know how you're going to react."

"To what?"

"Harm, I don't know exactly when it happened, but I've fallen in love with you."

"You, what?" he was genuinely surprised.

"Hold on, don't get mad."

"Mad? Oh, I'm not mad, Sarah. It's just that..."

"That what?"

"You see, I've been afraid to tell you how I felt."

"About what"

"About you."

"Well, so how do you feel?"

"Dear, sweet Sarah, I'm hopelessly in love with you."

"Are you sure?"

"Are you?"

They both nodded. He lifted up her head and touched her swollen lips with his. Her lips parted and her mouth opened slightly.. They fused into a passionate kiss.

This kiss seemed to last an eternity. Both of his hands had moved up under her nightgown and were slowly working their way upward.. They probed and searched, but at the same time, caressed her soft skin. He felt her magnificent body begin to move beneath his hands, exciting him more.

She broke from the kiss, and breathlessly whispered, "Not here." With this she moved to stand up, pulling him up beside her. She took his hand to lead him away, but didn't protest when his strong arms picked her up off the floor, carrying her.

They moved quickly into the bedroom, where they began making plans to fulfill his dreams.