SATURDAY AFTERNOON
2 JUNE 2001
PORTSMOUTH NAVAL MEDICAL CENTER

Ever since Dr. Stafford had let him out of bed on Wednesday morning, Harm had pushed himself every day to walk just a little bit farther, despite the fact that the first time he'd swung his legs over the side of the bed, he'd nearly tumbled out of it when the room had started spinning around him. Only the fast reflexes of Sergei and Mac, standing on either side of him, had stopped that from happening.

By that evening, Harm had been able to make it from his bed to the bathroom and back again without someone hovering next to him to catch him if he stumbled. He'd made it out into the hallway the following morning, dragging his IV with him on a pole, much to the chagrin of the nurse making rounds that morning who hadn't yet figured out that Harm pushed himself at his own pace, not that of the doctors and nurses overseeing his care. He'd tired out not more than fifteen feet down the hall from his room, but instead of being discouraged, he'd merely seen it as a goal to surpass the next time he made it out of his room.

Thursday had brought both good news and bad news. With Mac at his side, he'd made it all the way down to the nurses' station, fifty feet from his room, on his third excursion of the day - but with an unexpected side effect. The more he walked, the more his right knee hurt, and when he'd walked back to his room, he'd had to lean on Mac the last ten feet. An orthopedist had been consulted, and it had been determined that he'd somehow strained his knee. That night, a rather vivid dream led him to recall the cause – his chute lines had gotten tangled around that leg when he'd landed in the water, yanking him down. Since he wasn't up to the demands of physical therapy yet, he'd been given the cane, a brace for his knee, and a warning to take it easy.

At that point, Mac had started keeping track of the number of times someone said the words 'slow down' or 'take it easy', snickering under her breath every time those phrases were used. When Trish had noticed and asked her about it, Mac had said that she found it amusing that Harm had the nurses so snowed by his charm that they didn't realize that those phrases just were not a part of his vocabulary. Although he was gratified to see his wife and mother getting along, it was a little too much when they'd started swapping stories about various injuries in the past and how quickly he'd made himself get better. His first crash wasn't mentioned, which made it easier for all of them to forget for just a few minutes that he wasn't going to just bounce back from this one.

The knee brace wasn't the most comfortable thing he'd ever worn – as usual, the military had gone for the lowest cost instead of the greatest comfort – but it did provide enough stability to allow him to continue his treks down the hall.

Friday afternoon, Mac had gotten permission to take him outside in a wheelchair, where he'd been surprised with a picnic lunch – takeout from the Officers' Club - brought by his family. For Harm, who had just graduated that morning to solid foods, the fruit salad he'd been given had been the best thing he'd tasted in recent memory. The outing had ended with him and Mac taking a brief walk around the grounds while holding hands.

When they'd taken a break on a bench under a tree, they'd engaged in a kissing session, which had quickly moved from playful to steamy before they'd both remember that they were in public. As Harm had started to pull his hand away from the collar of her blouse, he'd discovered that Mac wore two dog tag chains around her neck. She'd made a great show of unhooking one of the chains and sliding his wedding band off – when Harm couldn't remember even having one, she'd reminded him that Skates and Robert had donated theirs – and placing it back on his finger before she fastened his dog tags back around his neck. Teasing him about the occasional holes in his memory, which seemed at times to be about the oddest things, she'd told him that now he could look at his tags in order to remember who he was.

Just a couple of hours ago it had been a time of goodbyes. Since they couldn't all fly in the helo to Norfolk with him, and since Harm and Mac's cars were both in Norfolk, everyone was driving back to Washington, leaving in plenty of time to meet him at Bethesda when he would land. Mac had nearly handed off the keys to her car so she could fly back to Washington with him, but Harm had convinced her to drive back since his family wasn't familiar with the roads here and she could lead them to Bethesda. Harm had accompanied them down to the main doors of the hospital, in a wheelchair pushed by a nurse this time.

Once he'd returned to the ward, he'd watched a little bit of television, and then decided to take one last walk down the hall while he waited for Dr. Stafford to come by for one final exam before signing off on his transfer to Bethesda.

"Commander!"

Harm turned around, gripping his cane in his right hand, to find Skates and her fiancé walking towards him, both dressed in summer whites. He leaned against the wall to wait for them to catch up to him, not quite willing to admit to himself that his body needed the rest. After being up since 0630 without falling back asleep – the first day he'd managed that feat – he was starting to wear down. Still, he wasn't ready to stop completely yet. He could do that on the flight to Bethesda.

"You're looking good, Skates," he said with a smile.

"You're looking…." she began hesitantly.

"I'll settle for 'better'," Harm suggested.

"Works for me, Sir," Skates replied, "although you'd look better with some hair."

Harm ran a hand over his shaved head, feeling the stubble. He hadn't quite gotten used to it yet, and when he'd first looked at himself in the mirror, he was shocked at the five o'clock shadow effect all over his head. He grinned and said, "Mac says it almost makes me look like a Marine."

They all laughed. "Trust a Marine to see a bright side like that," Skates said. "So how are you really doing, Harm?"

Harm shrugged. "Better than I was this time a week ago," he said, "but the doctor keeps warning me that I've got a ways to go. He said that it would be up to the neurologist who takes over my care at Bethesda, but that I should anticipate another six weeks minimum before I can return to work. Of course, my long-term goal is to be able to pass my flight physical, but no one's placing any bets yet on when I'll be ready for that - assuming I'll be allowed to take it."

"I wouldn't bet against you, Harm," Skates said.

"Thanks," Harm said. "So how about you?"

"I'm still grounded until my ribs heal," she replied. "By the time the doctor clears me, it'll be almost time for the wedding, so I probably won't return to the air until after that. Gives me more time to take care of all those last minute details before the ceremony, since I've left a lot of it to Robert."

"I thought you were giving it up, Skates," Harm said, confused.

Harm watched as Skates and Robert shared a look, seemingly holding a silent conversation. When Skates turned back to Harm, she was smiling. "Robert and I have done a lot of talking this past week," she explained. "It's odd that it took something like this to remind me how much I love what I do. It made me realize that I'm not quite ready to give it up. Someday I will, but not yet."

"I just want Beth to be happy," Robert added with a smile of his own as he gazed at his fiancée. "If she needs to continue her career as an aviator to do that, then I'm behind her one hundred percent."

The remark struck a cord with Harm as he remembered a conversation two years previously, when Mac had accused him of valuing flying more than everything else in his life. How might the last two years have been different if Mac had been more supportive?

He pushed the thought from his mind. It didn't matter anymore. Mac was now his partner in life. The issues of the past weren't important anymore. "Well, maybe we'll fly together again someday," Harm said.

"I look forward to it, Harm," Skates said.

Harm saw Dr. Stafford walking towards them. "Ah, it looks like my ticket out of this place is here," he said.

"We should be heading out ourselves," Robert said. "We're supposed to meet with the minister performing our ceremony later this afternoon in Annapolis."

"That reminds me, Harm," Skates added. "Your wedding invitation should have arrived already. I expect to see you and Mac there."

"It's in four weeks, right?" Harm asked. Skates nodded in reply. "Then I see no reason why I won't be able to travel to Annapolis by then. Mac and I wouldn't miss it. Which reminds me, did I thank you before for the wedding gift?" He held up his left hand, his thumb pressing forward his ring finger.

"No thanks necessary, Harm," Skates said. "Robert and I were both happy to do it. After what happened, I can understand why you'd want to grab hold of what's important. We both do. If we could help out…."

"It'll also give Beth and me a chance to go shopping for rings together, Sir," Robert added.

Harm smiled. "Still, thank you," he said.

"You're welcome, Harm," Skates said. "See you around the fleet."

Dr. Stafford waited until Skates and Robert had walked off, and then joined Harm. "Why am I not surprised, Commander," he said, "that you're already plotting ways to get out from under your doctor's restrictions?"

"Well, Sir," Harm said with a grin, "I consider more that I'm applying myself to recovering my health."

"I encourage you to keep up that attitude, Commander," Stafford said. "Just try not to overdo it."

"I'll keep that in mind, Sir," he said.

"You have recovered from the surgery as well or better than any of my previous patients, Commander," he said. "Just remember that this was brain surgery. You're not just going to bounce back. That's not to say that it's not possible for you to return to normal; it'll just take time."

"Understood, Sir," Harm said, resisting the urge to sigh. He'd heard all this before.

"Let's walk back to your room, Commander," Stafford said. Harm nodded, walking beside the doctor back towards his room. "I've already contacted Dr. Grayson, the chief of neurosurgery at Bethesda, and updated her on your progress. She said that she'll be there to meet you when you arrive at Bethesda, and she'll let you know when you need to return to see her after you're released from the hospital. Ultimately, it'll be up to her to sign off on your return to duty, but as I indicated before, it will probably be at least six weeks before that happens."

"Yes, Sir," Harm said.

"I also have here a consult for an orthopedist," Stafford continued, flipping to another page in Harm's chart. "It'll be up to Dr. Grayson to determine when your head is ready to handle the rigors of physical therapy that you'll have to do on your knee, so wait until you've seen her before you make the appointment with orthopedics. We're sending you to Bethesda with enough of your medication to get you through at least a couple of weeks, and then Dr. Grayson can reevaluate. Any questions?"

Harm shook his head, pleased that the motion brought very little pain. "No, Sir," he replied. "I think that covers everything."

"Good," Stafford said, closing the chart. "I'll give this to the corpsman who will accompany you on the medivac flight. Good luck, Commander."

"Thank you, Sir," Harm said as they reached his room. Stafford walked off, leaving Harm standing outside his room. He glanced inside at the bed and sighed. As he slowly made his way to the bed and lay down on top of the covers, he wondered how long it would be before he could get through an entire day without wearing out. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to see the wisdom of not returning to work for six weeks.

-----

SUNDAY AFTERNOON
3 JUNE 2001
HARM'S APARTMENT
NORTH OF UNION STATION

"How are you feeling?" Mac asked as she parked the SUV in front of Harm's building and turned off the ignition. Harm was reclining in the passenger seat, his eyes closed. Noting that his face seemed a little flushed, she pressed her hand against his cheek. He opened his eyes, looking at her wearily.

"I've never gotten motion sickness a day in my life," he admitted, "until now."

"How'd you manage the flight to Bethesda yesterday?" she asked, concerned. His simple statement was a sign that although he might be out of the hospital, he still had a ways to go before he was one hundred percent.

"They gave me a mild sedative," he replied as he pushed himself up, breathing slowly. "I was also lying down for the flight. I just closed my eyes if everything started spinning around me."

Mac swiftly unfastened her seat belt and pushed her door open while Harm fumbled with his own seat belt. Walking around to the other side of the car, she opened his door and offered her hand to him. He allowed her to help him, draping an arm around her shoulders to steady himself after he was out of the car. Placing her arm around his waist, she slowly led him into the building. Once in the elevator heading up to his apartment, he pulled her closer to him, resting his head against hers.

Harm groaned as the elevator jerked to a stop. "I'm sorry," Mac said as she released Harm to open the elevator door and the grate. "I thought that with your knee, staying at your apartment with the elevator would be better so you don't have to climb the stairs."

"I'll be okay," Harm said as they made their way to his door. "I think it's just the jerkiness of the elevator after the ride home. It will get better. Anyway, you're right. I'd have to climb stairs at your building."

Mac opened the door and led him inside. Jingo, who'd been picked up from Bud and Harriet's the night before, looked up from his place on the floor in front of the couch, then laid his head back down when he recognized that his owner was otherwise occupied. "So where do you want to go – the couch or the bed?" she asked.

"The bed," he replied after a moment. She could hear the reluctance in his tone and knew what it probably cost him to admit weakness. "I think I want to lie down for a bit."

"Okay," she agreed, leading him up the stairs to the bedroom. "Why don't you strip and crawl into bed while I get you some water so you can take your medicine?"

"Maybe I should just forgo the pills," he said as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, his voice muffled for a second by the fabric. "I need to get off that stuff as soon as possible. I'm going to need a waiver as it is to be restored to full flight status, and that's going to be an uphill battle. I don't need to become dependent on that stuff."

Mac returned with a glass of water and two pills, holding both out to him. "I know that you need something when you don't throw me a traffic light at my comment about stripping," she said as he took the water and pills from her.

"Why would I throw my wife a traffic light?" he teased. He took the pills and the water from her.

"You've got a point," she replied with a smile. "I guess I'm still getting used to that idea."

"So why don't you get used to it by joining me?" he asked with a grin, holding out his hand to her. "Don't tell me you can't use the rest either."

"I won't," she said, taking the now-empty glass from him. "Just give me a few minutes and I'll join you. I promised to call your parents and let them know we were home. Do you think you'll feel up to visitors later? Your mom and grandma offered to make dinner for everyone here tonight."

Harm glanced at his alarm clock as he slid beneath the bed covers. "I think that'll be okay," he said. "Maybe if they come over about six?"

"Okay, I'll tell them," she called out. A few minutes later, she rejoined him in the bedroom and started stripping out of her own clothes. "Everyone said to tell you to get your rest and they'll see us later. Frank said they'll stop by and pick up Sergei at my apartment on their way over."

"I guess someone needs to think about transportation for him," Harm said, watching as she walked over to the closet dressed in only a matching midnight blue bra and panties. "By the way, thanks for letting him stay at your place."

"No sense in my place going to waste since I'm still locked into the lease on it," she said, leaving out the fact that the main reason she still had a lease was that the plan had been for Mic to move in with her after their wedding. After going into business for himself, Mic had struggled the last few months to make his rent payments. Since his lease was nearly up anyway, it had made more sense for him to give up his apartment.

Fortunately, her landlord kept Saturday hours, so it had been relatively easy for her to stop by after they'd gotten back to D.C. the day before and secure permission for Sergei to stay at her place. The lease was still in her name, and she was still responsible for the payments. She'd been a tenant long enough that her landlord permitted the arrangement once the circumstances had been explained. Now, Sergei had a place to live and didn't have to worry about his immigration status, as he would have had he tried to rent a place on his own.

"I see you already moved some of your stuff over here," he commented as she pulled a t-shirt and gym shorts that he didn't recognize as his out of one drawer.

"When I dropped Sergei off at my apartment yesterday," she explained as she pulled on the clothes, "I picked up enough clothes for a few days. I figured I'd go back later in the week and get some more of my things once you and I have had a chance to make some room here for my things. When we cleaned your apartment yesterday evening, I cleared out one drawer for myself. I didn't want to move too much around without you."

She slipped under the covers, stretching out on her side beside him. "You didn't have to wait," he said between yawns. "This is your home now, too."

"I like the sound of that," she said as she leaned over to brush her lips over his. Pulling back, she smiled as his eyes drifted closed. Closing her eyes, Mac let herself be lulled by the even sound of his breathing.

-----

MONDAY MORNING
11 JUNE 2001
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Mac tried to ignore the looks directed at her as she strode into the bullpen. For the last week, she'd tried to put out of her mind what people might think about her sudden marriage to Harm on the same day she was supposed to have married Mic. It was easy to do that while she was at home, throwing herself into helping Harm recover. Now she had to face the stares and hear the whispers behind her back. There would be no questions to her face – not in this office – but the fact that this was a military organization wouldn't stop the gossip.

She stopped short just inside the door as she noticed that Harm's office was open and the light on. "Gunny, what's going on?" she asked as Gunny walked up to her.

"The Admiral said that Commander Turner could use Commander Rabb's office for now," he explained. "Maintenance has some work to do in Commander Turner's office. It appears something died behind the wall."

"Oh," Mac said. "Do you know if the Admiral is available?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied. "He wanted to see you as soon as you arrived. Also, a package with your new name tags is sitting on your desk, ma'am, and a new sign has already been placed above your door. I've also e-mailed you a copy of the form you need to fill out to get a new ID card. You'll need a copy of your marriage certificate when you go to get the new card."

"Thank you, Gunny," she replied, handing him her briefcase and cover. "Can you put these in my office?"

As Gunny headed towards her office with her things, Mac continued on to the Admiral's office. Tiner stood as she entered the outer office and said, "Good morning, Colonel. The Admiral said to go right on in."

Mac entered the Admiral's office, closing the door behind her, and came to attention in front of A.J.'s desk. "Colonel Rabb reporting as ordered, Sir," she announced.

"As you were, Colonel," A.J. replied, removing his glasses and tossing them on the desk. "Take a seat. How is Commander Rabb?"

"He's doing reasonably well under the circumstances, Sir," she replied. "He had his stitches out this morning. He's still not allowed to drive, but his parents are going to stay at least another week, so if he needs to go somewhere, they can take him if I'm at work."

Mac had actually talked about taking some more time off – the two weeks she'd taken off so far were the two weeks she'd already planned to take for what would have been her honeymoon with Mic – but Harm had pointed out that they were both growing restless with the inactivity. Even if he couldn't go back to work yet, she should, he'd said. He'd also suggested that she could relieve his boredom by coming home and bouncing ideas for her cases off him. She had finally agreed, insisting however that she take him to his appointment to have his stitches taken out, since it was something of a milestone in his recovery.

"Good," A.J. said. He picked a folder up off his desk and passed it to her. "I hope you're ready to hit the ground running. Lance Corporal Miles Benson was arrested last night in the parking lot of the Enlisted Club at Quantico for possession of marijuana. He claims he was framed, that someone planted the drugs in his car. You'll prosecute; I've already handed the defense to Mattoni."

"Yes, Sir," she replied.

"That will be all, Colonel," A.J. said.

Mac stood and came to attention for a second before turning on her heel and leaving his office, glancing through the case file on her way back to her office. It was a first offense, but the corporal's claim of a frame-up was weak. An MP had seen the corporal unlock his car door and thinking the man drunk, had intended to stop the corporal from driving home. When he'd asked the corporal to step out of the car and hand over his keys, he'd seen a partially smoked joint in the ashtray.

"Colonel, can I have a moment?" Sturgis asked, intercepting Mac just outside her office door. "I need to talk to you about Harm's mishap investigation."

"Come in, Commander," she said, continuing into her office and taking a seat behind her desk. While she put her briefcase away and booted her computer, Sturgis took a seat in front of the desk.

"How's Harm doing?" he asked.

"Harm's fine, Commander," she replied. "He had an appointment with the neurologist this morning. She said he's doing well, and he got his stitches out this morning."

"That's good," Sturgis said. "If it's not a problem, I'd like to stop by sometime and see him."

"I'm sure he'd be happy to see you," she said. "Commander, not that I don't want to discuss my husband, but I do have a lot to catch up on, so if you could just tell me what you need….."

"I'd like to make an appointment with you to get a statement for the mishap investigation," Sturgis said calmly, seemingly unruffled by her brusque manner.

"I don't mind giving a statement," she replied, puzzled, "but I'm not sure what you're looking for. I wasn't in the Tomcat that night and wasn't on the carrier until shortly before Harm was rescued. We spoke briefly by phone just before he left the carrier, but I don't see how that would be of any use to you."

"What did you talk about, Colonel?" he asked.

"It was a private conversation, Commander," Mac replied tensely.

"Colonel," Sturgis said patiently, "some questions have come up in the course of my discussions with the mishap investigator, and I think you can shed some light on the answers."

"What kind of questions, Commander?" she asked, trying to ignore the heavy weight in the pit of her stomach. She was getting the feeling that she was not going to like where he was heading with this.

Sturgis sighed and looked down at the floor, as if pondering his answer. Finally, he looked back up and said, "The mishap investigator has some information that suggests Harm should never have been in the air that night, and that he insisted on flying, despite the risk from the weather."

"Are you trying to tell me, Commander," she demanded, "that it's been suggested that Harm purposely risked his life – and Skates' life – to get back to D.C. to me?"

-----

To be continued in Drifting On A Lonely Sea Chapter IV – Lean On Me. Harm works on recovering from his injuries, determined to return to work and regain his flight status as quickly as possible. With the questions brought up by the mishap investigation hanging over their heads, Harm and Mac find that they are rich in people willing to help out, but have a hard time leaning on each other.