DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harm, Skates, Bud, any member of JAG or NCIS, or the shows themselves, they belong to Donald P. Bellisario and associates, and of course to CBS Broadcasting Inc.
Author's Note: Ad coelum is a Latin phrase meaning "to the sky". I have nothing against Mic Brumby, who is a very likable character, a real larrikin, and I honestly think Mac shouldn't have strung him along, she should've been all for him or not at all. So in this story, she is all for him. This is my first attempt at Harm/Skates fanfiction, the only ones I've read so far all start in Adrift, so I'm trying something different and starting this from Goodbyes. WARNING - canon has been messed with slightly before the start of this story.
AD COELUM
A JAG Fanfiction
SUMMARY: LCDR Harmon Rabb saved the life of young naval aviator LT Beth Hawkes while on an investigation on the USS Seahawk. Contemplating her own mortality, "Skates" left the fleet to go to law school. Returning to the Navy in January 1998, Skates returned to carrier duties and joined in 1999 by Harm, the pair of flying lawyers became the best pilot-RIO team in the Navy. Will be Harm/Skates eventually, Mac/Mic.
Chapter One: To The Sky
FROM JAG: Goodbyes (Season 4, Episode 24)
JAG Headquarters - Falls Church, Virginia
1132 Hours Local
LCDR Harmon Rabb Junior, United States Navy Judge Advocate General's Corp leaned back against one of the desks in the centre of the bullpen at JAG Headquarters chatting amiably with his good friend LT Bud Roberts about what it was like having his eye surgery, joking about it being something out of Star Trek, a television show which Bud knew more about than just about anyone else. He was just about to make another joke when a familiar voice jolted him out of the conversation.
'Commander Rabb?' the cool voice seemed to bring the conversation across the whole bullpen to a halt, the whole staff of JAG wanting to learn of the identity of another of Harm's mystery girls. 'We met on the Seahawk, sir?' the woman repeated when Harm didn't reply immediately.
'Lieutenant Beth Hawkes, I remember. How's law school?' Harm asked, moving forward to shake Beth's hand warmly.
'Graduated, summa cum laude, top of my class. Passed the Florida and Virginia bars.' Beth said, smiling warmly at the man who had encouraged her to go to law school.
'Congratulations, I knew you'd do good.' Harm smiled.
'Thanks, went back to the fleet, on the Patrick Henry now. Because of course, flying is life.' Beth said passionately, a passion for flying was something very few of Harm's friends could understand, and it frustrated him no end. 'I was just in Washington and I brought you a couple of things. pre-flight checklists, NATOPS manuals, you know the drill.'
Harm and Beth suddenly became painfully aware that everyone in the bullpen had their full attention on the two aviators, suppressing a groan, Harm gestured to his office. 'Why don't we step into my office?'
Looking around nervously, Beth nodded, 'Might be a good idea, sir,' she added before ducking quickly into the open office door as Harm shut it behind her. 'Oh, and I've even including the open book exams, so you've got everything you might need.'
'And how'd you know I might happen to need all this, Lieutenant?' Harm asked with a raised eyebrow.
'My fiancé works in SECNAV's office and he came home talking about this aging retread...' Beth explained mirthfully.
'Aging retread?' Harm asked mock indignantly.
'His words, not mine.' Beth playfully and placatingly held both hands up. 'Anyway, sir. I gotta run, having lunch with my fiancé in twenty minutes. Maybe we'll fly together someday.'
'Sure see ya, and maybe you might be my RIO.' Harm replied.
'Well you do need all the help you can get!' Beth made one last joke before she definitely had to leave.
Naval Air Station Oceana - Carrier Air Wings 12, 14 & 18 Headquarters
0921 Hours Local
Harm stepped into the Headquarters of his new unit, Carrier Air Unit 18 and made his way to the reception desk in the middle of the foyer. Placing his seabag down for a moment, he leaned on the counter and addressed the young and attractive Yeoman Third Class seated there. 'Excuse me yeoman, could you please direct me to Captain Pike's office?'
'Certainly, Commander.' The young yeoman batted her eyelashes, apparently blindingly unaware of Article 134 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. 'It's through that door on the left, down the corridor, last door on the left.' The yeoman pointed the way.
'Thank you, petty officer.' Harm said, rolling his eyes mentally as he made his way through the door and down the corridor. As he walked down the corridor which was several hundred metres long, he passed doors with name plaques proclaiming various Squadron Commanders and XOs and DCAGs until he reached the last door on the right, the name plaque reading CAPT. Ryan Pike - Commander, Carrier Air Wing 18. Stopping in front of the door, he knocked, and when directed, he stepped through into the neat office.
'Lieutenant Commander Rabb, reporting as ordered, sir!' Harm called as he snapped to attention, making sure to look at a point over his CO's shoulder until he was told to stand at ease.
'Ah! Commander Rabb, I was just talking about you. At ease.' CAPT Pike said as Harm moved into the at ease position. 'Since you're coming back to aviation after so many years as a lawyer, when we get out to the carrier, you'll be flying with my most experienced and best RIO. Lieutenant Commander Rabb, meet your RIO, Lieutenant Elizabeth Hawkes.' The CAG said as Beth stood from her seat and turned to face him.
'We've met.' Harm said, offering his hand to Beth.
'Met? Commander Rabb saved my life on the Seahawk, sir.' Beth corrected, looking at Harm as if to ask him why he was always so modest about it.
'Good. Then you should have no issues flying with him then?' CAPT Pike added.
'No, sir. None whatsoever.' Beth replied, shaking her head vehemently.
'Excellent. Take Commander Rabb and get him fitted out with his flight gear, the works, and get him some line officers stars, we don't want that JAG millrind kablooey here.' Pike said, pointing to the sleeve lace on Harm's service dress blues. 'Dismissed.'
'Aye, sir.' Harm and Beth both snapped to attention before leaving the office.
USS Patrick Henry - Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean
1445 Hours Zulu
'Yo, Pappy! Wasn't things hot enough for you at JAG?' Harm tried desperately hard to ignore the hotshot pilot LT Buxton, known by his callsign "X-man". Buxton had been a pain in Harm's butt since his first day in the squadron, being the one to christen him "Pappy" and constantly trying to get a rise out of him. 'Lucky your father's not around to see your failure as a pilot!' ...Buxton had just taken things too far. Only the calming presence of his RIO Beth, or "Skates" in the squadron, and the arrival of the CAG stopped him from punching the pilot's lights out.
'Buxton! If I ever hear you insulting a dead man again, I will strap you to the front of a COD and catapult you off the deck. Pappy's father was a credit to the Navy, just as Pappy is himself. Now, I won't be preferring charges unless Commander Rabb asks me to.' The CAG got right up in the overly cocky pilot's face as he ripped him a new one.
'Yes sir.' Buxton said, thoroughly chastised.
'Will you press charges, Pappy?' CAG asked, looking across to the pilot-turned-lawyer-turned-pilot.
'No, sir.' Harm replied, glancing down at Beth who nodded approvingly.
'Very well. Now all of you, suit up! I want everyone to get some cats and traps up before we get to Kosovo.' The CAG said to the room at large.
'Aye, sir!' The aviators and flight officers replied as one and went about preparing for flight ops.
Harm, Beth and the other pilot-RIO pairs followed the tradition of naval aviators looking cocky as they nigh on strutted from the island across to mount up and catapult off the deck. Turning to look down at his RIO, Harm flashed his trademark flyboy smile, the one that makes any girl within a mile radius go weak kneed, and asked, 'Are you with me Skates?'
Fighting off her sudden attack of weak knees, Beth flashed him a return smile as she replied, 'To hell and back, sir.'
'Then, let's fly!' Harm said, grunting slightly as he pulled himself up into the cockpit of the Tomcat that had his and Beth;s names stenciled under the canopy. Harm and Beth settled into their seats and started pre-flight checks as their plane captain ensured that the canopy locked into place correctly. At the signal, Harm accelerated the engines to full power, wiping out his controls before he saluted the catapult officer and prepared for the jolt that always accompanies a catapult launch. After a few moments of waiting, both he and Beth were pushed back in their seats as the Tomcat accelerated from 0 (relative) to 150 knots in about two seconds.
'Badman 1-9-2, this is City Desk, CAG orders you to go around to final approach and get some cats and traps up.' The Air Boss' voice crackled through their headsets.
'Roger that City Desk, this Badman 1-9-2, going around.' Harm said, leaning the joystick back slightly and to the right, loving the feeling of the plane responding instantaneously.
'Let's see if you can improve your trap record, Pappy.' Beth joked over the internal intercom.
'I'll have you know my last trap was perfect.' Harm replied indignantly.
'Maybe, Pappy, but of your last 20 traps, your best one was from the backseat.' Beth added.
'Hey, you wanna try landing her, then?' Harm replied looking back in the rear view mirror, preparing to make the turn to come into final approach.
'No, I trust you Pappy.' Beth replied as Harm completed the turn.
'Thank you!' Harm said before switching on his radio. 'Paddles, Tomcat. 1-9-2, Ball 3.4.'
'Roger, ball.' The Landing Signal Officer on duty radioed back. 'You are on the glide path.'
'Power, power, power!' The LSO's voice crackled through Harm and Beth's headsets as the Tomcat touched down and came to an abrupt stop, and Beth had to admit that it was smoother than she had expected.
'1-9-2, proceed to starboard catapult for immediate launch.'
'Roger City Desk.' Harm radioed his reply before looking at Beth via a mirror. 'See, that was fine, I even caught the three wire.' he said smugly.
'True, you might even have a perfect start on the greenie board.' Beth's smile near lit up the cockpit.
'Hey, well not many would admit it, but a pilot is only as good as his RIO.' Harm said with another flyboy smile as their Tomcat was hooked up to the catapult again.