Disclaimer: not mine

AN: There will be a long AN at the end of the third chapter to give some background to this story.

Inferno Part 1/3

It was supposed to be their first romantic getaway. Well, romantic probably wasn't the best description. It was the middle of a hot Californian summer and Harm and Mac had concluded a ten day investigation in San Diego. Wrapping things up on the Thursday morning, General Cresswell had graciously agreed to them remaining on the west coast for the weekend.

Although working hard for the duration, Harm had still managed to catch up with mother and step father on three occasions, which was three times more than in the whole two years prior. Whilst Mac had been invited to the two dinners, and Sunday lunch, she declined, not wanting to interfere with Harm's family time. In addition, she also wasn't sure what it all meant.

Sure, they'd been a lot closer in recent months. Sure, they had shared a lingering goodnight kiss their last Saturday night in DC after they had spent the evening eating pizza and watching DVDs at Mac's place. Sure, she wanted to take it further, but going from nothing to dining with the 'in-laws' seemed a bit much.

Disappointment was Harm's primary emotion. For years, he had wanted to introduce Mac to his parents just as much as his parents wanted to meet her. He couldn't fathom why she wouldn't come out to dinner on the Tuesday night. It was just dinner, at a Chinese restaurant – Mac loved Chinese. Frank was friends with the owner and he wanted to show off his stepson, and he also wanted Mac to be there.

Knowing how hard it had been to get Harm onside when he'd first met Trish, Frank could only imagine getting Mac onside would be twice as hard. Taking matters into his own hands, he called her on the Monday night, just as she stepped out of the tub in her temporary officer's billet. Asking her first, he got the negative reply he'd been anticipating. Using his best sales tactics, he got Mac to agree after issuing the fifth invitation.

After the intense negotiations needed to get them all around the one table at Silver Leaf, the dinner was a wonderful success. Surprised she was nervous to walk through the restaurant door, Mac soon relaxed and the evening quickly disappeared amongst friendly chatter and reminiscing.

During the dinner, Trish had offered them the use of Attwood Cottage for the weekend and they had accepted on the proviso they could get the time off. With everything falling into place for them, they had arrived at the cottage mid-morning Friday, ready for a relaxing break and maybe, just maybe, the chance to take things further. Although neither one voiced this for fear it would jinx the whole thing.

It was a hot but delightful day. Soon after arriving, Mac stood in the living room with her bag in hand, wondering what the sleeping arrangements would be. She knew she was standing by the door to the master bedroom and wasn't sure what Harm was thinking. Part of her wanted to share the room with him regardless of whether anything actually happened, the other part wanted separate rooms, to keep them from rushing things. As she considered this minor detail, she realised that ten years as partners and with very strong feelings for Harm for most of it, 'rushing it' was not at all possible.

With a newfound resolve, she headed into the bedroom and marvelled at the rustic feel of it. Everything about it oozed comfort and she was quite sure she'd sleep soundly here, if she was allowed.
"It's a beautiful room,"said Harm with a smile, entering the room behind her.
"Oh, it is," Mac enthused, turning round to him. The first thing she noted was his empty hands, his bag nowhere to be seen.
"I'm sure you'll be very comfortable in here. Mom says it's the most peaceful place on earth," he said, moving to open the window to let in the fresh country air.
"And where will you be?" she asked in her best non-affected voice.
"Next door," he said, tilting his head to the left. "There's a bedroom there too – not as grand as this one though."
"Oh," she nodded. "You can take this one if you like, I don't mind," she said, picking up her bag.
"But if you're in there, I'll have no excuse to come in here, will I?" He grinned.

As Harm disappeared out the door, Mac smiled. Maybe, just maybe, after all this time, they were on the same page. She could only hope.

Lunch was on the porch, looking up at the picturesque mountain. The cottage had been in Frank's family for generations and Mac could instantly see why they had never given it up. The trees were plentiful; old, strong trees which had seen the seasons come and go since time immemorial. The meandering stream nearby could be seen in part but not always heard as the heat of the season and diminished rainfall of recent years had caused much of it to dry up. Birdlife was prevalent and on more than one occasion a feathered friend made his way to their table, hankering for a crumb or two of the delicious meal Harm had organised.

Their tasty repast was followed by an ambling stroll along one of the countless trails which threaded its way among the trees. Chatting amiably as they went, both took turns pointing out things which caught their interest; a bird, a plant, a tree, a squirrel with a striking resemblance to Cresswell, or at least that's what Harm thought. Somewhere along the trail, Mac slipped her hand into Harm's, he glanced at her when her fingers laced with his but said nothing. When he gently squeezed her hand, she smiled in relief.

In the early evening, back at the cottage, Mac curled up on the sofa with a book from the vast bookshelf Frank had crafted himself, while Harm busied himself tinkering with an old radio Frank was having trouble with. By the time Mac was ready for bed, Harm had fifty six different radio pieces strewn across newspaper on the kitchen table.
"I'm heading off to bed now," Mac yawned, padding over to him, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder. "Are you going to get this all back together?"
"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled. It would be a challenge but he'd succeed, he'd missed doing these sorts of things. How he longed for the days where he could work on his plane or his car ~ hands on, greasy, dirty work.
"Don't stay up too late," she said, kissing his head. If Harm wasn't going to take the lead, then she would.
"I won't," he replied, turning in his chair to wrap his arm around her waist, his hand still in midair so as not to dirty her clothes. "Did you have a good day?"
"I had a great day," she smiled. "I'm so glad we came up here."
"Yeah, me too," he nodded. Using his arm he pulled her closer to him and reached up to kiss her. It was a slow, smouldering kiss which ended too soon for Mac.

Hopping into bed, Mac's mind was swirling with the possibilities of that kiss … what it meant, what it may lead to. Relaxing into the plush comfort of a mattress made in heaven, Mac lay and listen to the night sounds of the cabin. The external sounds combined to make Mother Nature's own nocturnal lullaby. But it was those from inside the cabin that she focused on more and more. The tinkering of Harm's tools, the scraping of his wooden chair on the floor boards, the fridge opening, the cap coming off his bottle.

Despite her brain registering what he was doing, and her mind creating its own images of him, her heart was desperate to hear the sounds of him approaching her bedroom. Once or twice she thought she heard footsteps coming closer, but she was wrong. At one stage she thought her door was opening, she was wrong. As the time dragged on and sleep tried to claim her, Mac became more annoyed that he would prefer to spend time with a broken down forty year old radio than her.

Needless to say, although well rested, Mac wasn't in any better a mood when she awoke not long after dawn to find Harm already up, sitting in the armchair reading. Sighing deeply, she shook her head; now there were two things he preferred to her.
"Hi Mac, he greeted as she moved through the sitting room to the kitchen dressed in grey sweats.
"Hi," she replied without enthusiasm, continuing on her journey.
"Sleep well?" he asked, resting the still opened book on his stomach.
"Yes, thank you," she answered. In the kitchen she filled her water bottle. Harm watched her curiously. The only word he could think of to describe her responses was cool.

Moving from the kitchen, Mac padded over to the door and slid on her trainers.
"Going for a run," she said, opening the door and heading out.
"Wait! I'll come with you," he said, jumping up from the chair. Mac didn't reply nor did she wait and by the time Harm grabbed his trainers from his room, Mac was long gone.

Full of energy and annoyance looking for a way out, Mac ran and ran until the sweat poured from her and her dry parched throat begged for mercy. Chastising herself for not drinking the water as she went, she drank the entire contents in one shot. Mac started off once more before she slowed to a walk and then stopped suddenly. Taking a 360o look around she realised she hadn't followed any set path and had no real idea where she was. Being a marine, she wasn't all that perturbed; sure she could find both water and a way out before too long.

Meanwhile, Harm had set off after her and, despite his thorough training and knowledge of the area, could find no sign of her on the main track leading from the cabin. Surprised by her sudden departure and his inability to find her, Harm turned back towards the cabin after twenty minutes to await her return.

Grabbing two bottles of water, he sat on the front step and opened one for himself, leaving the other to the side for Mac. As he did, his eyes scanned the distance for any sign she was on her return home but it was a futile effort and he'd finished his water before he stood up and scanned the horizon again.

After two hours had passed, Harm's concern escalated, anything could have happened to Mac out there and the extreme heat of the day along with the strong northerly winds were not ideal. In fact, they were prime fire conditions and with the slight smoky scent to the air, Harm hoped there was nothing seriously amiss out there.

Two hours dragged to three and still there was no sign of Mac. Leaving a scribbled note on the table which told Mac in no uncertain terms she wasn't to leave if she returned before he did, Harm filled a back pack with several bottles of water, a towel, some fruit and a box of chocolates protected by an ice pack; if Mac was still out there running in this heat then she'd need all of it.

Quickly scouring the trails and hills for any sign Mac was returning, Harm set off in the direction he assumed she had gone – the biggest trail and the one directly in front of the cottage. Not wanting to exhaust himself, Harm maintained a steady pace as he jogged down the trail, stopping every now and then to double check for any signs of Mac and to call her name. It was a fruitless effort; Mac was nowhere to be found.

Cutting through the trees, towards another trail he knew well, Harm caught sight of something which was out of place. Trotting over to the tree, Harm found a swatch of blue fabric snagged on a branch, the same fabric Mac had been wearing that morning when she breezed past him.

Taking the material with him, Harm now had greater confidence he was on the right path. 300 metres later, he found a bottle discarded and it was the same kind as he had with him. This was both good and bad news, good that he was closer to Mac than before, bad that she was out in 100+ degree heat with no water.

After another hour of searching, Harm stopped by a dry creek bed to rehydrate. Grabbing one bottle of water he took only as much water as he needed, wanting to extend the life of his supply for as long as possible. To gain extra energy, he ate an apple, his eyes never once stopping their scanning of the surrounding area.

With the air getting heavier and the smell of smoke growing, Harm knew time was running out. While there may be no fires in the immediate area, he knew the drill and that was that all people were expected to evacuate the mountain as early as possible. Knowing it was already past noon, Harm knew time was of the essence.

Ten strides into his next search, Harm saw something ahead in the creek bed that made his heart lurch, a blue, crumpled form lying amid the rocks. His jog became a sprint as he raced to the site at least 200 metres away. Instead on the body he was anticipating, he found Mac's blood stained blue tee on top of a rock.
"Mac!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "MAC!"

Anxiously, he scurried about the area trying to figure out which way she had gone. He'd left the tee on the rock in case she was using it as a marker – he'd left a bottle of water with it just in case she returned. "Mac!" he continued to call as he searched. "Mac!"

The smell of smoke was strengthening, as was the darkening colour of the sky. The heat was oppressive and sweat continued to pour from Harm as he received countless cuts and scratches from the dry, sharp branches and many rocks which peppered the forest floor.

With his own throat dry and parched from the heat and smoke and hoarse from his screaming Mac's name, Harm continued scouring the area in the hope of any sign of Mac. Forty minutes later, with blood streaming from a cut to his forehead due to a low overhanging branch he hadn't seen, Harm caught sight of movement in the distance. With his head swirling and his sight becoming impaired, he hoped against hope that the vision in the distance was the woman he loved, not a mirage.

"Mac!" he called with what little strength and voice he had left. "Please God, Mac!"

The movement stopped and he quickly closed the distance.
"Mac!" he continued to call, hoping it was her and not one of the wildlife which made its home in the mountains.

"Oh, thank God!" he exclaimed when he finally saw her. She was bloody, dirty and her upper torso only clad in a bra and deep scratches evident on her back.
"Mac!"

Slowly, she turned to face him, her face flushed, her eyes swirling with heat exhaustion.
"Harm!" she managed and as soon as he touched her she collapsed in his arms.

Slumping to the ground with her, Harm quickly took off the backpack and grabbed a bottle of water. Unscrewing the lid, he brushed her hair from her face before tilting the bottle to her mouth and begging her to drink. It took her a few moments to coordinate her actions but soon the liquid gold filled her mouth and trickled down her throat.

"You're okay, you're okay," he whispered, not sure if he was trying to soothe her or convince himself. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, her skin nearly dry in the one area he thought would be damp with sweat. It was a testament to her state of utter dehydration.

Once she'd finished the first bottle, Harm grabbed a second and tipped a small amount onto his shirt before using it to wipe the dirt smears from her face. Easing Mac up a bit further so she was sitting up, but still leaning against his chest, Harm used his damp shirt to try and soothe her fiery skin. All the while she just looked up at him with cloudy brown eyes and watched the concern dancing across his face.

"Sorry," she managed in a hoarse whisper. "So sorry."
"Ssh," he replied, holding her a little tighter. "Everything's okay," he added, not too sure what she was apologising for but well aware she wasn't in any state to have a proper conversation. "Just rest."

Ten minutes later, after feeding her some chocolate, helping her drink a little more and giving her a banana to eat, Harm assisted Mac to lean against a nearby tree before standing to stretch his legs and check out their surroundings. From his vantage point he had a fair idea as to where they were and knew it was an arduous trek back to the cottage if they took the direct route – something which was necessary given the fire in the area.

"I can make it," Mac said as she registered what was on his mind.
"It will be very rough going," Harm replied, making his way back to her.
"I can make it," she repeated, taking a deep breath and forcing herself up from the ground.

Quickly, one of Harm's arms was wrapped around her and he steadied her against his body.
"Are you sure?" he asked, although he knew it was redundant as she would say yes and they'd have to make an attempt anyway.
"Yes," she replied. "But you might have to help me."

Harm was right in his assessment; the hour long trek back to the cottage was through some of the harshest terrain of the mountain. There were steep inclines, unforgiving undergrowth and the thick smoky air wasn't helping in the least. The only good point, if there was one, was that the environment caused them to move slowly which was good as it was all Mac could manage.

Coughing and panting, Mac almost collapsed in relief when she saw the cottage up ahead. She knew they would have to evacuate the mountain but right now she wanted to fall into the bath and drink a tub full of water. Stumbling over a partially hidden rock, Mac was caught by Harm who had kept one eye on her the entire time.
"We're nearly there, honey," he said quietly as he steadied her.
"I know," she replied before a coughing fit overtook her.
When she stumbled again, Harm did the easiest thing and scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way.

Thinking they were finally safe, Mac sighed deeply as Harm returned her feet to the ground.
"You okay for a few minutes?" he asked, holding her in place.
"Yeah," she said with a nod.
Harm left her to grab a large water jug from the fridge.
"Mac?" he called when he turned around to find her missing from where he had left her.
"Here," she replied.

Following her voice, Harm found her sitting in the bathtub with the shower pouring cold water over her head. She hadn't bothered removing the rest of her clothes as that would have required too much energy,
"Drink this," he said, handing her the jug before he disappeared from the bathroom.

While Mac tried to rehydrate, Harm used his cell to contact the local fire service. As he waited for someone to give him information specific to his area, he turned on the radio, thankful he had finally got in going in the wee hours of the morning. Finding the local station, Harm listened as they listed the evacuation centres in the area.

"Sir," came the voice down the line. "Roads from your location are now blocked. We advise that you don't try and come down the mountain."
"What are we supposed to do then?" he questioned, fear growing by the moment as the air and heat became oppressive.
"Our advice is to use your bath or water tank, submerge yourself and cover your heads with a blanket," the man said. More advice was given as Harm made a mental note of all the things which had to be done. "Good luck," was the last thing he heard before the line went dead.