Watch the Morning
by Maureen S. O'Brien

Rating: PG
Spoilers: "Death Watch"
Summary: What do you do when your world is shaken? 

Disclaimer: 
(ttto "Old McDonald", American trad.)

Who created our show JAG?  
Bellisario.
Who still owns each little rag?  
Bellisario,
With a CBS here, and a CBS there,     
Paramount, Paramount,
And Belisarius Productions.
I don't own it; what a drag. 
Bellisario!
	
Author's Note: Judging by "The Imposter", Harm and Mac were still on
good terms. But judging by "The Legend of Jimmy Blackhorse", those 
terms weren't quite the same ones as before. This is my idea of how
they got from A to B -- not to mention how they got off without NCIS
charging them with murder!

--------------------------------------------------------------------
Much disappointed, Genji sent in a poem through an acolyte:
"Having come upon an evening blossom, 
 The mist is loath to go with the morning sun."

She sent back:
"Can we believe the mist to be so reluctant?
 We shall watch the morning sky for signs of truth."
 
-- Murasaki Shikibu. Translated by Edward G. Seidensticker
   The Tale of Genji, "Lavender" chapter.

====================================================================
The world was night, and she was the only light to see by. But he 
turned away from her. Keeping his eyes dark-adapted was hard enough, 
and red was the hardest color for him to see. So he left her there 
in the rain and drove away, the same way he'd left behind his 
dress whites and all his dreams.

The night had been his enemy for a long time. Now it was his ally.
He drove down to Norfolk on the backroads where there was no glare
from headlights to distract him. Then he waited on the pier for his 
prey, in a red Mustang that looked black in the darkness. He shed his
naval aviator's leather jacket and checked his gun one last time. 

Then he opened the car door and became one with the night. He stood on 
the pier and watched his prey come to him. It didn't take much to 
catch a murderer this way. No familiar dance of rights and duties,
punishment and mercy -- just a fake phone call and a single shot. 
Elegant. 

The rest would be messier. He would turn himself in, of course, and 
take his punishment. He was sorry that his actions would reflect
badly on the Navy and the JAG Corps, but it couldn't be helped. Diane
had trusted him, and he had failed her. He would trade his life for
her killer's, and justice would be served. Then her voice would quit
ringing in his ears. Then he could fade into the night forever.

A light shone over his shoulder as he prepared to pronounce sentence
on Holbarth. He ignored it. Nobody could stop him now. And he was 
done with light.

He did not ignore the cry that followed. Though his eyes and gun 
stayed steady on his target, he held his hand. And then she came, 
dressed in whites and looking so much like Diane it made his heart 
hurt. But he stood still. He had a fighter pilot's calm.

His prey did not. 

Holbarth didn't believe in honor or justice or duty, but apparently 
he did believe in ghosts. He fled where noone pursued, least of all 
the astonished Sarah Mackenzie. And the sea took him into custody, and
the _Sheppard_ executed him. Justice was done, and Diane could rest.

But he had to watch Holbarth die. He couldn't help; he was frozen 
with his gun hand out. And worse, Mac and Bud saw it happen.

"I'll get help!" said Bud, and ran up the gangplank.

Good man, Harm thought vaguely, glad that he wouldn't have to. It 
would have seemed obscene. But Mac stayed beside him, and he was 
even more glad of that.

He didn't deserve it, but he was glad.

"It won't do much good," she observed. "He was crushed between the 
dock and the hull."

He swallowed hard at the suppressed horror in Mac's voice.

"How did you know I was here?" he asked numbly, his eyes on the man
he'd come to kill. The answer didn't matter. But he forced his voice
to sound normal, because she needed that.

"Bud told me that Turkey never served on the _Seahawk_," she said 
evenly, following his lead. "The killer had to be Lieutenant Williams 
or Holbarth. I guessed Holbarth...since his ship docked today."

She had investigated and applied logic. The rest was chance, or 
maybe God having mercy on fools and JAG lawyers bent on revenge. And 
suddenly, he felt infinitely tired. He didn't deserve her worry.

"Holbarth thought you were Diane's ghost." Reluctantly, he turned to
look at her. And blinked. It was like seeing her again that first 
time. 

"I didn't even think about that," she said quietly. "I was soaked,
and Bud gave me one of Harriet's uniforms." 

She looked down at the body in the water, and he swallowed hard. God, 
she looked like she'd been through the mill. And suddenly, he felt 
something pulling at his breastbone, and all he wanted to do was 
hold her.

She took a breath and looked up. "Would you have killed him?" 

He looked at her. Even now, she needed to hear the answer. Whether 
he answered yes or no, he knew she would still be there for him. But
he felt ashamed. He wanted to be able to answer no, but he couldn't 
honestly say that. And she deserved better than another lie.

"We'll never know," he said. His voice was husky with relief and fear
and....

And that was the end of words. She stood there, looking up at him,
and he looked back at her. He knew he was staring. He knew his mouth
was hanging open like some kind of idiot's. But every other woman he 
had ever cared about had left him or been killed or let him down.

Everyone but her.

He bent his head. Her eyes stayed steady on his. And suddenly, he 
was leaning down to kiss her. He couldn't pull his eyes away from
hers until the last moment, when he lowered his head to kiss her on
the slant. He saw a ghost of a smile cross her face, and then a look 
of surprise when he didn't pull away -- she blinked, but she moved to
meet him, her mouth crossing his. And then his eyes closed, and 
there was nothing but the sweet feel of her. The taste of light.

Oh, Mac...Sarah...

Oh, God, what was he doing?

He stopped himself. He opened his eyes and slowly, reluctantly, 
released his lips from hers. And there was Mac, looking up at him 
with a gentle wonder that made that something in his chest pull even 
harder. 

But she must have read something in his face, because she blinked. 
And a moment later, her face was a closing door. "I know," she said 
gently, trying to smile, refusing to cry. Marines don't cry. "You 
were kissing her."

He swallowed hard.

He didn't dare say anything.

And that made his third lie to her tonight.
====================================================================

Bud hurried down the gangplank with a gaggle of officers from the
_Sheppard_ in tow. The commander and the major were still standing
there staring at each other, which surprised him. Usually they would 
have been doing something more...active to deal with a situation 
like a dead body.

"It's Commander Holbarth!" one of them shouted. "He's dead!"

*That's what I just told you,* Bud thought with irritation. "We've 
got to get the body out of the water."

"You're not supposed to move a dead body," somebody else said. 

"Normally, that would be true," Bud replied. "But the hull is going to 
continue to bump against the dock and the body is going to keep 
getting smashed. So if we don't get it out, there isn't going to be 
much left. And somebody should call the authorities."

It was like pulling teeth, but finally he got things rolling. *But
where are the major and the commander?* he wondered. *And how are
we going to explain all of this?*
====================================================================

Bud came pounding back down the gangplank, followed by a small
crowd. And Harm turned and walked away from her. Again. She sighed
and caught up with him.

*Thirteen seconds. That's all it was. A thirteen-second aberration. 
Harm seeing ghosts. Some kind of...emotional time warp.* She 
concentrated on walking away in a calm and unsuspicious fashion. 
Nothing to tell the outside observer that her heart was running a
race with her stomach and her head, or that she could feel the
phantom sensation of her partner's mouth on hers. *Thirteen seconds.*
She kept a careful distance beside him as they walked, but they were
still close enough to hold hands, if they had been so inclined. 
*Thirteen seconds. And it'll be morning before NCIS is done with us, 
and longer if they don't believe our story.*

"So what's our story?" she wondered quietly.

"What story?" Harm stopped in his tracks and stared at her.

"The story we're going to tell NCIS so we don't all end up in the
brig."

"I'll tell them the truth and take responsibility for this whole
thing."

She took a deep breath, fighting for control. *Yes, it has been a
long night. But no, you are not going to kill him. If you didn't
shoot him back in his apartment, you won't kill him with your
bare hands now.*

She breathed again. "No, Harm. You won't. You are going to tell them
how you foolishly went to confront a murderer in the hopes of getting
new evidence, and how Bud and I foolishly met you here to help. And I
came here out of uniform on purpose, but our trick to get a 
confession went too far. Because nobody will believe our story if we 
tell it any other way."

"A cover-up to protect me?" He shook his head. "No, Mac. That's how
this whole thing started: Holbarth trying to cover his six. I won't
dishonor Diane's memory like that."

Another deep breath. *One minute a vigilante. The next a Boy Scout.
Of course. This is Harm.* She sighed inwardly. *I don't like using 
guilt against you, but I will do what I have to.*

"Harm, I have been awake all night. I haven't had any food since 
noon yesterday, and let's not even mention coffee. My purse with all 
my money and ID is up in your apartment somewhere. I nearly drowned 
on dry land before I managed to hotwire my own truck. The night 
guards are getting sloppy and let me into Falls Church, and I hid 
underneath some blankets while Bud drove to get into Norfolk. Yes,
and let's not forget Bud, who has also been awake all night, doing
his best to remember stuff that happened two years ago, and that he
never mentioned to me because he thought you might not like him to
talk about it." She paused. "But everything I told him was hearsay,
and I think I managed to protect him from becoming an accessory.
Maybe. 

"Whereas I am clearly in this up to my neck, because I should have 
called Norfolk and told them to stop you at the gate. But I didn't. 
I drove three hours -- well, more like two and a half the way I 
drove -- to get down here and stop you myself. I didn't want to ruin 
your career. I didn't want you to ruin your life. And frankly, I 
didn't give a damn whether Holbarth got killed or not." 

She looked down. "Isn't that a nice professional way for a JAG lawyer
to act."

"Mac...."

"I'm not finished, Harm." She looked up again. "Holbarth got away 
with murder, twice. If his death takes you down, takes me down, 
leaves a black mark on Bud's record -- he wins again. And all of 
this will have been for nothing. What would Diane think of that?"

"I won't lie under oath."

"With any luck, it won't get that far. And if we phrase our replies
right, we won't have to lie, period."

He thought about it. *Please,* she thought. *Let him see reason.*

He sighed. "You don't fight fair, Mac." There was a ghost of a smile
in his voice, though his face was still blank and confused. 

Maybe it would be all right.

====================================================================
Bud sighed. What they needed was a witness.

Now, a witness who'd seen LCDR Rabb holding a gun on CMDR Holbarth 
could be a very bad thing. He sure didn't want to have to tell 
Harriet he'd been arrested, or see the commander and the major in 
the brig. But the whole situation was so....

Which wasn't to say he didn't understand the commander's actions. If
anyone ever threatened Harriet, he'd probably go bonkers too.

But what they needed was a witness.

"Did anyone see anything?" he asked again. "Chief?"

The chief who'd been standing watch shook his head. Bud sighed. It 
wasn't surprising. The commander had been wearing black and Holbarth 
khaki. The night was foggy, which tended to muffle sound as well as 
sight. 

"Um, I hate to ask this, but where is the officer of the watch?"

"Right here. Ensign Briggs," said a young woman. "I saw it, but I
didn't realize that Commander Holbarth had fallen off the dock. I
just thought he'd run off into the fog!" She shook her head. "I don't
know why he got so upset when that woman came up and called his 
name...."

"Called his name?" 

"Yeah. He was talking to some guy, having a nice conversation -- I
couldn't hear what it was about -- and reading a note the guy gave 
him, and then this woman comes running up, calling his name. I could 
just barely hear it, like 'oh-ar'. Holbarth. And then he started 
backing away from her real fast, for no reason. I heard him say 
something about being sorry, and then he was gone." She looked 
worried. "If I'd only realized what was going on sooner...."

"There was nothing you could have done to change things, Ensign,"
Bud told her. "It happened in seconds. The best thing you can do now
is to remember what you saw and tell it to NCIS, just like you told
it to me."

"Thank you, sir."

He had a witness. A witness who didn't know anything about murder or 
a Marine major desperate to stop one. And defense counsel was not 
obliged to reveal everything it knew to the prosecution.

====================================================================
The world was mist and fog, a thick and amorphous blanket. You could
not see through it; you could not hold onto it. It came into his mind
as well, confusing his thoughts and his sense of right and wrong.

She slipped through it smoothly, taking his gun and placing it in her
own car, in a hideyhole he never would have suspected was there.
"That was my only weapon," he felt obliged to say softly. "You should 
have kept it."

"You would have found another way," she whispered in return. "I would 
have had to shoot you or stay with you, and as it turned out, I 
couldn't do either."

He watched her shut the car door. Even tired, her body flowed with
each move. Tendrils of mist floated across her face as she turned.
He had always known she was beautiful. But tonight, she was like
some goddess out of dream.

He closed his eyes, unable to bear the sight of her. If she had been
any other woman in the world -- well, any other non-JAG, non-enlisted
woman in the world -- he would have been able to hold her and tell
her so. To kiss her again. To make her happy. And more....

He had loved Annie. He had. But not as much as Sarah....

He stopped himself. There was no point torturing himself, was there?
Mac was in JAG. Mac was his partner. JAG was life and breath for both
of them. Following regs was important. So even if he told Mac that he
had in fact been kissing her, they couldn't do anything about it. Not
and keep their oaths as officers.

The world was mist. She had been his for a moment, and then she had
slipped away.

====================================================================
Paperwork. Bud sighed. The one constant in the universe was 
paperwork, and NCIS had plenty of it for them to fill out and sign.
But finally, both they and Ensign Briggs had finished every single
piece.

They went out into the parking lot together. The ensign waved 
goodbye and headed back to the _Sheppard_. Commander Rabb and
Major Mackenzie headed for their respective cars under a still
foggy but rapidly greying sky.

"More coffee," the major muttered. "I have to wake up somehow."

"Ditto," groaned the commander.

Bud groaned inwardly. "Um...do you really think that's a good idea?
I mean, it's three hours, and the Beltway at the end of it, and even
on Sunday DC has a rush hour, and...."

"Let me guess," said the major. "You don't trust us to drive."

"Ma'am, I don't even trust me to drive. We look like those guys at 
the end of _Treasure of the Sierra Madre_. I suggest we find a 
parking lot that doesn't belong to NCIS and rack out."

The major and the commander exchanged glances. 

"You're right, Bud," the commander agreed. "And I think I know the
place."

They drove back down by the pier, to the diner. Bud shivered a 
little. He knew this place. It was where he and the chief had found 
Lieutenant Schonke's body. But if the major didn't know that, he 
wasn't going to tell her.

====================================================================
She looked at Harm worriedly as he held the door for her. "Why here?"

"Because I'm damn tired of ghosts," he told her, his eyes locking on
hers.

For a moment, she found it hard to breathe. 

Then he looked away, toward the diner. "I ate at this place whenever 
the _Seahawk_ came into port. Holbarth took it away from me. I mean 
to get it back."

"How?"

"Take a look."

He motioned out into the steadily brightening air, out toward the
water. And, just like that, the sun began to rise.  The fog diffused
the dawn light to a soft glow, while orange and yellow ran across
the sky like watercolors mixed in a paintbox. They stood there
watching, Harm leaning against the door and she against the car,
until the world turned into morning.

====================================================================
The world was morning, bright and new. It smelled like coffee and
eggs and bacon, and most of all, the sea. The new sun lit Mac's eyes
and took away the lines of worry in her face. It showed the quiet
satisfaction in Bud's stance, over on the other side of his own car.
And it even shone cheerily on him, and his clean hands.

He turned to her and said quietly, "Thank you, Mac. For everything."

She shrugged and smiled a little crookedly. "Any time."

"No, I mean it. I owe you. I'm not a murderer today, because of you."

"You don't owe me anything. We're partners. Or at least, we were."

He felt a twinge of fear. Then calm descended on him. Time to fight
with all he had.

"We still are," he assured her. "At least, I thought so."

"We can't just forget what happened."

"I didn't say we should." Or could.

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying we're a good team. What happened, happened. We're both
adults, we're both officers, and we can deal with this."

He should have been feeling earnest and intense. But the sunlight
was washing over him, and he couldn't keep it up. 

"We can deal with anything!"

==================================================================
The exuberance in his voice caught her heart, but she had to 
tease him a bit.

"Anything?" She gave him her most devious look.

"Anything."

"Werewolves?"

"I know a guy who casts silver."

"IRS audits?"

"That's why you've got the photographic memory."

"Dancing babies?"

He grinned. "You see any dancing babies, major, and I'll have Bud 
stuff 'em back in the computer where they belong."

"Sounds like a good deal," she mused. Then she sobered. "We'll
have to be careful. For a while, anyway. Not get too close, not
spend too much time alone together." In other words, same rules
that the admiral and I have been following.

"All right."

"Then it's settled." She sighed with relief. "Now what?"

"None of us will be able to fall asleep for a bit, after seeing the 
dawn. So let me buy you some breakfast." He smiled at her.

Those smiles of his. She shook her head and involuntarily smiled 
herself as she raised her voice and started walking towards Harm's
car and poor patient Bud. "You'd better be buying. For Bud, too. 
And I hope you brought your credit card, because I'm starving."

"Nice to meet you, Starving. I'm Hungry." 

"That joke is old," she protested. But she was laughing. She looked 
over at Bud, who looked bemused. "How about you?"

"I'm Famished, ma'am. Especially if Commander Hungry is paying for
it."

Harm rolled his eyes. "No, Master Card is paying. I'm just along for
the ride. Let's go eat."

====================================================================
MONDAY
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

"You'll be pleased to learn that the NCIS investigation has cleared
you three of all responsibility for the death of Commander Holbarth.
The death has been ruled 'misadventure'."

Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb, Major Sarah Mackenzie, and 
Lieutenant(j.g.) Bud Roberts knew better than to move a facial
muscle to react to the admiral's news. Movement attracts attention,
and they didn't need any more of that than they already had.

The admiral strolled out from around his desk and stalked toward
them. This was bad. This was very bad.

"So I will not have to see officers under my command subjected to an 
Article 32 hearing. For the second time this year."

Harm could have sworn the admiral was looking straight into his soul.
And that what he saw there was something with rot on it.

"Which is good, considering that you narrowly escaped a Captain's
Mast for roughing up Lt. Lamm...who later showed up dead. If that 
witness hadn't showed up, the case would have been a prosecutor's
dream. And the major wouldn't have been able to defend you this 
time."

The admiral turned to the major in question. Outwardly, her demeanor
was entirely correct. Inside, she was cringing.

"Aiding and abetting. Or maybe, if the prosecutor was really 
creative, he could have gotten you on a murder charge too."

He left it at that, released her from his stare, and stalked on. 

"And you, Mr. Roberts. Although your heart was in the right place, 
what on God's green Earth did you think you were doing by providing 
a Marine officer with a Navy uniform immediately before proceeding to 
Norfolk? Do you know how many outraged calls I got on that one? You
three could have offed half the _Sheppard_ and gotten less reaction."

Bud looked chagrined. Harm and Mac stayed expressionless only with an
effort. The admiral shot a look at them. Fortunately, he found them 
properly Sunday-faced. 

"I would ask what you were thinking, but I know you weren't thinking.
I can tell by the results."

Giving them all one last cold glance, he walked back behind his 
desk, sat down and pursed his lips.

"I could tolerate a private investigation of Major Mackenzie's 
stalker, because you had good reason to work alone on that one. Mr.
Rabb's little brig break was also a special situation. But this was
just plain stupid. Next time, try telling NCIS about your little
discoveries. Or maybe, just maybe, you might try telling your 
commanding officer?"

His eyes grew cold again.

"No more private investigations. Dismissed."

"Aye-aye, sir." Harm drew himself up and saluted. The others followed
suit and gratefully left the room.

Harriet was waiting for them back in Harm's office. She didn't know 
the full story, but she knew enough to make her worry. "How did it 
go?"

"Better than I deserved," Harm said ruefully, "thanks to Bud finding
that witness. Bud, Harriet, are you sure you want to hang around the
resident loose cannon?"

Bud looked serious. "If I hadn't been working with you, sir, I would 
never have met Harriet."

"Which is something I try to remember every time Bud gets dragged off
on a case," Harriet said wryly. "But at least it's never boring 
around here, sir."

Harm glanced at his partner, silently observing from the side. "What 
about you, Mac? Any second thoughts?"

She rolled her eyes. "Stop fishing for compliments, Harm. We've got 
work to do. And if we don't get to the Murphy court-martial, we're 
gonna get chewed out twice in one day."

"Brrrrr. Fate worse than death. Okay, then. Harriet, see if you can 
find those files on Mac's desk...."

====================================================================
The world was papers and people, witnesses and worries, continuances
and interviews and arguments to plan. It was all questioned and
guarded by a lady with a blindfold, a balance and a sword.

He knew someone like that.
====================================================================
And for all of them, the world went on.

====================================================================
"Unsure has been the road over which I look back.
"What can I know of the road that lies ahead?"

"The road ahead must needs be short, you tell me?
Then let us hurry on it while we may."

--The Tale of Genji, "Trefoil Knots".
====================================================================