Title: Paved With Good Intentions

Author name: Soleil

Author Email: soliel9708@a...

Disclaimer: I'm about to be an unemployed lawyer. Does anyone else see the irony of a one time english major who went to lawschool to get a job not having a job? The soon to arrive unemployment checks will probably tell you I don't own these characters.

Summary: Huge spoilers, speculations. Call this a preemptive fixing. I'm fixing the upcoming season before it can annoy me.

Pairings: H/M, M/O, H/O, and then Finally H/M

Spoilers: Sure, why not. Let's be safe and say just about everything and anything is fair game.

Rating: Pg-13?

Author's comments: I swear, I mean it when I say that I'm fixing things. Just bear with me, folks. For the sake of this fic, they already had the conversation about his resignation. It just didn't fit in this story.

Le Sanctuaire

A dark silhouette stumbled down the road towards the Embassy. The Marine guarding the gate squinted against the sun and stared hard at the man and woman limping their way to him. Their progress was slow and the guard had plenty of time to study them.

They leaned heavily against each other, the woman's head resting on the man's shoulder. The man limped and his free arm, his left arm, dangled at an awkward angle by his side. They were both dirty and the guard couldn't distinguish between dirt and blood. But, if he had to guess, he would lay even money that the stain on the woman's shirt was blood. As they inched closer, he saw that the stain was actually quite large. Beneath the grime, their faces were pale and covered with sweat. Whatever had happened, wherever they had been, it had been bad.

"We're Americans," the man called out. "Open the gate."

The guard noticed that his right arm, wrapped tightly around the woman's waist, was holding her up. She didn't look like she would be able to stand were it not for him. Her head lolled back on his shoulder as she moved to study the iron gate before them. The guard was inclined to grant them access. But he had been a Marine long enough to know that things weren't always what they seemed. People could, would, do anything to make their points, to achieve their goals. "Passports?" he drawled the word out, because he had time enough to wait for proof of citizenship or a really good story.

"We were in an accident. They were lost." The man hitched the woman up against his side and gestured down the lengths of their bodies. The woman moaned against the movement.

"I'm a Marine," she spoke up. "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie, JAG Corps. You can verify it with the headquarters in Virginia. Ask for Admiral Chegwidden."

Feeling like the guard at Emerald City, the Marine opened the gates, wondering why they didn't just say so. The JAG himself, Admiral Chegwidden, had called and asked the Ambassador to keep an eye out for these two. Though, truth be told, he thought the woman would look a little different. Bigger, somehow. Or tougher.

"You're not going to call?" She asked as they hobbled through the gates.

"You're C.O. beat you to the punch, ma'am. Sir." The guard nodded at them. "We've been expecting you." The man flashed him a smile, his white teeth contrasting sharply with the layers of dirt on his face.

"Oh, thank God," she breathed as they passed him.

"Yes, Ma'am." The guard nodded again. He understood that sometimes Heaven wasn't an ethereal place in the sky peopled with angels. Sometimes, it was an American Embassy in the middle of Paraguay guarded by the Marines.