A/N: This fanfic is set almost directly after "Lifeline", dealing with the aftermath of the kiss at Mac's engagement party. Things are complicated when Harm and Mac are sent to investigate the murder of a female Navy lieutenant at Norfolk Naval Station and the case soon becomes more personal than either of them could have possibly imagined.

This story might be crossing over into NCIS a little, but not so much, I think, that it warrants being classified as such.

There are probably tons of inaccuracies in this story, but everything I know about the US military I know from TV and there's only so much research you can do. I hope it won't spoil it for you! If it's anything too drastic, please point it out to me and I'll change it.

A thank you to AvaniHeath for her input and beta skills! Check out her latest fic "Anchored" if you haven't done so already!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: JAG is property of Donald P. Bellisario; I'm only borrowing.

The Ties That Bind

Prologue

A twig cracked underneath her foot, shattering the peaceful silence, and Florence Acker froze. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her blood rushing in her ears. She forced herself to take a deep breath and listen for signs of pursuit, trying to ignore the persistent voice in the back of her mind that told her that she would never hear him coming unless he wanted her to. It was the same voice that had tried to persuade her to stop running because it was useless. She couldn't outrun him, she couldn't outfight him and neither could she hide forever. These were the facts, cold and hard. The analyst in her kept going over them, looking at them from every angle, searching for something that would get her safely out of this mess. But she could twist and turn them in her mind all she wanted—the data available to her allowed only for one interpretation.

I'm screwed.

At least she hadn't lost her sense of humour yet. Florence told herself that this was a good thing, that it meant she wasn't ready to surrender just yet. A flutter of hope remained. Looking at the facts, she knew it was irrational. But hope always was, and so she kept on going. When she couldn't walk anymore, she'd crawl. She would not go down without a fight. She would not allow him to break her like he had broken all the others. She was stronger than that.

Slowly, she turned around, afraid of what she might see but knowing that she had to make sure she wasn't being followed. It reminded her of when she was young—she would wake from a nightmare, afraid to open her eyes because she was convinced the monster she had just escaped was towering over her bed, ready to devour her. But there was nothing. Aside from the narrow trail she had made, the forest lay undisturbed. Thin rays of sunlight filtered through the canopy, painting golden circles on the bright green leaves. The sky overhead, or what she could see of it, was a brilliant blue, dotted with tiny white clouds.

Would look nice on a postcard, Florence thought, then almost laughed out loud of the absurdity of it all. She was running for her life, yet here she was, admiring the scenery while her pursuer gained on her with every second she stood here wasting.

As she set off again, she was more mindful of where she put her feet. Although she harboured no illusions that she would lose him, she carefully brushed ferns and twigs out of her way. Let him know she wasn't running mindlessly, scared out of her wits. Let him know that she wasn't going to surrender. True, things didn't look so good. With every breath she took, her lungs burned and prickled like she was inhaling flames. Her legs were heavy as lead and screaming in pain. She had no food, no water, no cell phone. Her skills in hand-to-hand combat were useless against him and if—she forced herself to think 'if', not 'when'—he caught up with here, he'd kill her easily; it wouldn't be an even match.

But she'd already been through hell, her body bruised and battered, and she'd survived. Sooner or later, she was confident, she'd find water and food. She might be an analyst and spend the better part of each day sitting on her rear end in front of a computer, but she knew how to survive in the wilderness. Her dad, a Marine general, would have been proud to know that at least some of the survival training he'd instilled in his youngest daughter had stuck with her. Not that you'll have much use for it in the Navy, he'd said in affectionate resignation the day she told him that she wouldn't follow in his footsteps like her four brothers had and join the Marine Corps.

She knew how to survive. She wore sturdy clothes that could withstand the elements for a while—a sweater, blue jeans and trainers; she'd just returned from taking a walk when he abducted her. It was summer, so she wouldn't freeze to death. She'd be okay. Not fine—she wouldn't be fine for a very long time after this—but okay. All she had to do was hang in there until someone found her or she found someone with a cell phone. She'd crossed a hiking trail a few minutes ago; sooner or later she'd encounter a hiker. Her main problem was avoiding getting caught.

A thought occurred to her and she paused mid-step. It was the middle of the day, just before noon, judging by the position of the sun. She'd been on the move since before dawn, running at first, then walking when she couldn't run anymore and because she had to preserve what little energy she had left. What if he hadn't noticed her escape yet? He'd left when it was still dark. She assumed it was because he had to be back on base by morning—if he was missing, someone might start asking questions or even put two and two together and figure out that he'd abducted her. She wasn't quite sure how long she'd been gone—two days, maybe three—but surely by now people were looking for her. He'd have to go about his business as usual to avoid suspicion, which meant that he couldn't leave in the middle of the day. And that meant that she'd have at least six hours to find help. Or at the very least put as much distance between her and the cabin where he'd kept her as she possibly could.

But first she needed to rest. Just for a moment. She knew it was risky. But if she tripped because she was too exhausted to walk properly and broke something, that would kill her just as dead as he would. She slid into a bush of fern on her right and sank down at the base of a tree, her back against the rough, hard trunk. With the hood of her dark sweater pulled over her long blond curls, she was reasonably hidden. Even though he was probably back at the base, she didn't want to take any chances.

She blinked drowsily into the sunlight, hugging her knees to her chest. Bird sang overhead, chirping merrily. She envied them. If she had wings, she would have been able to fly away and go home.

"I'm going home," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. She'd screamed so much in the past few days that it was nearly gone. "I am going home." Her hands tightened on her legs. "I am going home."

She had to believe that she was going home.

A/N: Please let me know what you think! I love reading your reviews! Second chapter will be up later today!