Author: Dazzling
Email: glitter_and_glam@hotmail.com
Disclaimers: Nope, totally not mine. Ahhh, if only I had Harm, though <grin>.
Notes: What can I say? I wrote it one night while I was meant to be studying for history finals. No alternate universe, except that Brumby doesn't exist (yay!).
Summary: Wouldn't that be giving away the story, lol? Very sad, is all I can say. Perhaps a Kleenex warning, I needed them to write it.
Rating: PG, for a little violence.
Reviews and Feedback: Would be very much appreciated, thanks.

ALWAYS LOVED YOU

0855 Tuesday Morning
JAG Headquarters

Sarah Mackenzie looked up, startled, as a huge stack of manila folders thumped down onto her desk. Glancing up over them, she saw her partner, Harmon Rabb, grinning down at her.

"What's this?" she asked, taking a wary second look at the stack. Harm smiled charmingly at her.

"Anderson case just re-opened."

'So early in the morning?" Mac joked, taking a last gulp of her coffee.

"Never fear, my dear Colonel," Harm said valiantly, "for you have the opportunity many only dream of, to work with me on this case." He smiled and took a seat in her office.

"Charmed, I'm sure." Mac opened the first folder, surveyed the top sheet quickly, and groaned. "Onward, I suppose."

1330 Tuesday Afternoon
JAG Headquarters

Harm craned his neck round to look at the clock on the top of Mac's filing cabinet, and heaved a sigh.

"Mac," he said softly, prodding her shoulder. She lifted her head from the desk and sat up, smoothing her hair back.

"We've been at it for almost five hours straight. Wanna take a break, go out for some lunch?"

Max sat up straighter, shaking out her arms. "Don't need to ask me twice," she replied. Her bones cracked and creaked as she rose from her chair, and she stretched her arms over her head, attempting to remove the tension from her shoulders.

Harm came up behind her. "Here," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and massaging. Mac grinned, and then slapped his hand away as he started to tickle her neck.

"C'mon, Flyboy," she said, and lead him out of the office.

They reached the car park, and stopped in front of Mac's Corvette. "Your car or mine?" she asked jokingly.

"Let's walk," Harm said, and they set off down the street.

Reaching a small café, Harm gestured for Mac to enter. She curtsied light-heartedly and walked through the door. Their military uniforms drew a few stares as they sat down.

"About this case..." Harm started, but Mac interrupted him with a long, drawn-out groan.

"Please, lets not. It's our free time." Her voice grew softer, with a laughing tone. "Free...time. That's when we forget work..."

Harm smiled, and signalled the waitress. She came over, her pen poised over her order pad.

"What'll it be, Marine?" Harm asked.

Mac quickly scanned the menu. "Chicken salad, please."

"I'll have the same, thank you," Harm told the waitress, and as she glided away, he regarded Mac in amusement.

"What, no cheeseburger today?" he asked.

Mac smiled sarcastically at him, rolling her eyes. They started chatting, about everything and nothing. Mac was stabbing at her last piece of chicken, and Harm was about to call the waitress for their check when a man dressed all in black strode into the café.

His eyes scanned the room, finally settling on the table that Mac and Harm were sharing. As they watched in horror, he pulled a gun from his jacket and pointed it at Mac.

"Everyone out," he ordered, his voice low and dangerous. "Everyone, get out...except these two."

Sharing shocked looks, the other patrons file out of the café. One small boy glanced back at Harm and Mac, his eyes filled with sadness and an understanding beyond his years.

Harm stiffened even more, his hand grasping Mac's under the table.

"Why don't you let us go, Sir?" Harm asked quietly. "We've nothing to do with you."

The man laughed bitterly. It was a truly awful sound. "Ah, but you do. See, I was a Navy man once. Wore that uniform with pride, just as you do. But then," he said, kicking over a chair, "then, I got kicked out."

He circled around the room, his gun never leaving Mac. "I got thrown out of the only thing I ever cared about...for standing up for myself in a fight with one of YOU!"

Mac intuitively leaned back, startled by the man's tone and the accusatory finger he pointed at her.

"One of...one of me, sir?"

"That's right," the man told her gruffly. "One of you no-god Marines." He turned to Harm. "My Navy brother, what are you doing socializing with the likes of her? Marines are our enemy."

Harm struggled to remain calm. He grasped Mac's hand tighter. 'With all due respect, sir, we work together. We're friends."

"Well, YOU SHOULDN'T BE!" the man exploded. "You're too good to be around the Marines. They're dirty, they dirty the military name."

Harm spoke quietly, trying to pacify the man. "Sir, I understand that you've had bad experiences with Marines. Maybe the one, as you say, was dirty. But Sarah - this is Sarah, by the way - is different. We're lawyers."

The man hesitated, and Harm held his breath, hoping, waiting.

"Lawyers?" the man asked softly.

"Yes," Mac replied tensely.

Suddenly, he swung his gun around and pointed it at her chest.

"Well, that's a joke, ain't it? A Marine pretending to defend the innocent. What, it wasn't enough to wreck the military system? You had to corrupt justice as well?"

He paced back and forth, a wild look in his eyes.

'So, my country, my fellow Navy men, are being defended by a Marine. We can't have that. Oh no, we couldn't have that. I guess there's only one thing to do about it."

And with that, he levelled his gun and shot Mac in the chest.

She let out a short cry, and clutched where the bullet had entered. Harm caught her before she collapsed, picking her up and laying her gently down on one of the couches at the back of the café. He pressed her hands to the wound, then turned and strode towards the gunman.

"Do not come any closer," the man ordered, and Harm stopped, looking back at Mac worriedly. "Now, my Navy brother, you will face the consequences of dealing with the enemy."

"Please," Harm pleaded, resisting the urge to kill this man. 'Please, she needs to get to a hospital."

"NO!" the man yelled. "What this woman needs is to die!"

Harm stared hatefully at him, but he immediately returned to Mac's side.

"C'mon, Marine," he said softly. "Hang in there."

She smiled weakly at him, all traces of her jarhead attitude gone. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she angrily brushed it away.

"Harm...tell little AJ...tell him that his godmother loved him..."

"Mac, stop it. You are not going anywhere," he said, trying to reassure the both of them. "You may have a scar after this, but you will not die. You hear me?"

She looked at him, and then looked down at the shirt of her uniform. It was wet with blood, rushing from her wound.

Harm took one glance at it, and ripped the cover from the nearest cushion, pressing it to her chest, trying to soak up the blood. A tear fell, and as he looked at Mac to make sure she hadn't noticed, a wave of anger mixed with sadness hit him as he saw her eyes. They were dead, lifeless. He sat behind he and cradled her head in his hands.

"Ninja-Girl, if you stain my uniform, you're paying for it," he tried to joke, desperately attempting to make her, and himself, forget about what was right in front of them.

Mac simply groaned, and Harm noticed that a lot more blood had spread than when he last looked. Alarmed, he ripped off his shirt and replaced the cushion cover.

"Harm..." Mac croaked, and he looked at her. "Harm...I'm getting tired."

Pain tore through him, like nothing he had ever felt before. "Oh, no you don't, Sarah. You can't leave me now. Not yet. Not ever, to be precise, but especially not like this. You've always been the strongest, don't go giving up that reputation on me now."

"I'm just...so cold," she said weakly, her voice nothing more than a whisper. "And...it's getting brighter." With that, Mac slipped out of consciousness.

Harm gasped, and took another hateful glance at the gunman. He was simply sitting there, his face void of any emotion save for a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

Harm stroked Mac's hair, trying to wake her up. He eyes, thankfully, fluttered open, and her hand reached for his.

"Thought I'd lost you there for a minute, Marine," he said, trying to hide his relief.

"Harm," she said, and this time her voice was much stronger. "Harm...stop it. It's no use. I'm...I'm going."

"No, Mac, don't talk like that. We'll get you an ambulance, and everything'll be fine..." She raised a hand weakly to his lips.

"Harm, if my death means that other Marines will be saved, then...then so be it." Mac drifted out again.

Through his tears, Harm was amazed at her strength. He brushed the hair from her face, and pulled her upright so that she was cradled into his body. He looked for any signs of the kickass Marine he knew in her face. And he started to cry. Tears ran down his face and dripped onto her cheeks.

And, suddenly, her eyes slowly opened again. It seemed she was using all her strength to do so. She grasped his hand tightly.

"Just wanted you to know..." she started, and then she leaned up and kissed him quickly, falling back down again.

"Just wanted you to know that...that I always loved you," Mac said, and closed her eyes.

Harm wrapped his arms around her, tears falling freely as he tried to keep her warm. He whispered things to her, and lightly kissed her forehead.

Harm took another look at the gunman. The man stood up and saluted him.

"Well, my Navy brother, I hope I saved you. I hope I saved us all," he whispered. He gazed at Mac, and Harm saw a single tear slide down his cheek, before he raised the gun to his head and fired. Harm gasped in horror, and turned away.

And then he heard ambulance sirens. He sighed with relief. One of the café patrons must have called them somehow, when they heard the first shot.

"Mac," he said softly, gently shaking her hand. 'Mac, sweetie, the ambulance is here. C'mon, were going."

Her eyes stayed closed. Harm shook her hand again.

"Mac!" he said, his voice growing urgent. "Mac, come on. The ambulance, it's here." Tears ran down his face and his voice choked up and he shoo her shoulder. "Mac, the ambulance...it's here. Come on!"

He shook her shoulder again, desperately trying to wake her up. "Mac!" he tried again, sobbing. "Mac...c'mon!"

Her eyes remained shut, the slight traces of tears still on her cheeks, the blood stain on her shirt slowly spreading.

He shook her shoulder once more, and watched in silent horror as he failed, once again, to wake her up. "I love you too, Sarah," he whispered, 'with all my heart."

With that, he collapsed over her lifeless body, weeping.

A WEEK LATER
1035 Monday morning

"We are here today to lay to rest Colonel Sarah Mackenzie..."

Harm tuned out the priest's intonation, his head filled with other thoughts. Like the fact that he would never again see her radiant smile beaming at him. He would never again get to tease her about her eating habits, and the heart-wrenching, gut-turning revelation that he would never have the opportunity to tell her exactly what she meant to him.

"May she rest in peace, for all eternity. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

The priest finished, and people rose to file past her casket. Harm saw Bud and Harriet walk by, his arm holding her close as she wept. The Admiral was grim-faced, and the trail of a tear was visible on his cheek.

Harm rose almost robotically, his mind not really functioning. He passed by, and forced himself to look at her. She was so peaceful, just as if she was asleep. Tears rolled off his cheeks and fell onto her eyelids as he sobbed for her. He leant down, and gave her one final kiss, committing her to his memory forever.

Then he turned and filed stiffly out of the church. He broke into a blind run once out the door, tears clouding his vision. Harm ignored the sympathies of the people behind him as he wept. She was gone now, and with her, so was his soul.

FIN

AN: I'd just like to explain how and why I wrote this story. Just before I started it, I read a magazine article about a young Catholic girl who was murdered as she lay sleeping in her Prostenant boyfriend's arms. This shocked me, that people could feel so strongly and hate someone so much just because they're different. This fic, with Mac being killed for being a Marine, was a way of trying to explain to myself how someone, in this case the gunman, could do something like that out of pure hatred. I didn't mean to offend anyone, and I sincerely hope this was not the case. Nor did I mean to offend anyone by using character death, as it was meant to be simply a story. I hope that you enjoyed it, or at the least, it opened your eyes to some of the prejudice in the world.