Disclaimer: I do not own JAG or any of the characters of the show. And this fanfic isn't made for profit--just for fun. See? No money being made *shows empty wallet*
Author's Note: As much as I love the stories revolving around
the characters in the JAG universe, I thought it'd be fun to make
a story where it portrayed unseen characters of the JAG office.
What do I mean by that? Okay, I made characters up--but the thing
is, the story belongs in JAG because it takes place in the JAG
universe. Many of the characters you know, love (even hate) will
be in the story.
So yes, it'll be a very different story than you're used to
reading, but I hope you'll stick around and review. Some Navy
protocals might not be correct, but it's not *way* off--mostly,
it's there for the story.
Timeline: Post-Critical Condition.
Hidden Enemy
Part 1: Introductions
by: stargazer_1017
"Good morning, Ensign," a Petty Officer, third class, saluted the young woman as she made her way up the steps of the JAG building.
The dark-haired woman saluted the Petty Officer back. "Good morning, Petty Officer--how are you this morning?" she asked, stopping at the top step.
The man stopped at the bottom step. "I'm fine, ma'am. Have a great day," he added.
The Ensign laughed. "I'll give that a try, Petty Officer--and you stay out of trouble." The Petty Officer gave her a slightly crooked smile, but nodded at her comment and went on his way. The woman turned around and walked into the doorway. "I don't know if I'll actually get used to all of this," she said softly to herself as she took off her hat and walked to the elevator. After getting in and getting off at the second floor, she walked up to the doors leading to the main office and stopped.
She looked down at her uniform and pulled at her jacket. Then she took a deep breath and walked through the doorway. "Good morning, Ensign," another Petty Officer greeted her as she walked by the woman's desk.
"Petty Officer, good morning," the Ensign replied, smiling. "Tell me, has the JAG offices gone through much remodeling?"
"No ma'am. Everything's still where they've been since we've been here."
"Good," the Ensign said. "Carry on."
"Aye, ma'am."
The Ensign walked around the mazes of desks before reaching her destination. She walked through the door and noticed the man sitting behind a desk. "Petty Officer Tiner? Wow! Congratuations on your promotion!" she said, going over to the young man and extending her hand.
PO Tiner immediately stood at attention. "Come on, Tiner, as you were," the Ensign said, grinning.
Tiner reached for her extended hand. "Thank you, ma'am," he replied, smiling. Then his smile dropped. "I apologize if this sounds rude, Ensign, but--who are you?"
"Remember, Tiner? It's me, Michelle Cruz. . ." she trailed off when Tiner started giving an even blanker look. "Remember, I was still a Seaman when I pulled TDY here about four years ago."
Tiner slowly shook his head and gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, ma'am--I don't quite remember who you are."
Ensign Cruz shrugged. "They never do," she replied lightly. "Tiner, I'm here to see Admiral Chegwidden. Is he with someone right now?"
"No--in fact, I've got you penciled in to see him next," Tiner replied, after checking with his records.
"Great," Ensign Cruz replied as Tiner walked from behind his desk to the doorway leading to Admiral Chegwidden's office.
After knocking once, a muffled, "Enter" was said and Tiner opened the door and walked in, with Ensign Cruz right behind him.
"Sir, Ensign Cruz is here to see you," Tiner reported, standing at attention.
Admiral Chegwidden got up from his seat, a smile on his face. "Michelle, it's good to see you again," he said, walking over to the young woman and extending his hand. "How have you been?"
"Fine sir, just fine," she replied, shaking his hand.
"Well, you look great with an Ensign's uniform on," Admiral Chegwidden replied, motioning towards a seat. After Ensign Cruz took a seat, Admiral Chegwidden nodded to Tiner that everything was alright. Tiner nodded back and left the room. "So, how is the Navy in an officer's eyes?" he asked, taking a seat at his own chair.
"Honestly Admiral? It's funny--I'm so used to doing things as an Enlisted person. I just got my promotion to PO Third Class right before I signed on ROTC. Now, when I walk around, everyone's saluting me. I guess it'll take some time getting used to," Michelle replied.
"So what made you decide to commission?"
"I don't know," Michelle replied. "I just felt I would have more responsibilities. . .and after nine-eleven, I felt it was my calling. I felt that I could offer the Navy and my country more as an officer than as an enlisted."
"Sounds like good intentions," Admiral Chegwidden said, nodding. "And what job have you chosen to do?"
Michelle gave a slightly sheepish smile. "That's what I came to see you about, sir. You see, by the time I graduated, I couldn't decide on what job I wanted to take on. I was hoping you could provide some insight or recommend something to me. Daddy always said that I could come to you when I needed help and he wouldn't be there to help."
Admiral Chegwidden gave a small smile. "Well, I always promised your father that I'd watch out for you." He took a deep breath and said, "Well, Michi, what kind of job are you interested in? Officer positions are slightly different from enlisted."
"I've noticed that, sir. I have no idea of what I want to do at the moment. I guess my first choice would be anything aboard a carrier, since that's what I'm used to. . .but I don't know if that's what I want to do for my whole career."
"Well, if you decide after years that you want to switch jobs, you could always cross train," Admiral Chegwidden replied.
Michelle nodded. "Yes, sir. I've got about a week and a half to figure it out anyway."
Admiral Chegwidden looked at his watch. "Hmm. . .it's almost lunch. Tell you what, why don't we have lunch out and discuss it there? My treat."
"Sir, why don't I treat as well--"
"You're visiting us," Admiral Chegwidden replied firmly. "Let me treat you to lunch."
Michelle smiled. "Yes, sir." Admiral Chegwidden got up from his seat and Michelle got up and stood at attention. Admiral Chegwidden walked outside his office and Michelle followed from behind. When they got outside of his office and to the elevator, Admiral Chegwidden snapped his fingers.
"I have to leave a message with Tiner about an important phone call. Just meet me down at my car," Admiral Chegwidden said, walking off before Michelle could say anything. Michelle watched as he walked away and walked into the elevator when the doors opened.
I can't let him treat me for lunch--he's the admiral! Michelle thought silently as she took a step outside of the building. I'll get more cash. . .Michelle made her way to her car--and gasped.
"What the. . ."
The back driver's side tire of her rental car was slashed, and the driver's window was broken. Michelle slowly stepped backwards, away from the car--and bumped hard into someone.
"Whoa!" Michelle heard someone call out as she felt herself fall backward. She didn't know she had stretched her hand out until she felt someone grab onto her hand. Michelle felt her body stop in it's place. "Are you all right?"
Michelle looked up--into the concerned face of a Navy Lieutenant. Michelle nodded as she straightened up. "Good morning, sir," she said, as she saluted the Lieutenant.
The Lieutenant gave her a quick salute, but the concern never left his face. "Was there something--" his voice trailed of when he noticed Michelle's car. "What happened? Is this your car?" he asked her.
Michelle nodded. "Actually, my rental car. I was just gone about an hour. . ."
The man pulled out his cellular phone, turning to Michelle. "I'll call the police," he said. "Did you touch the car or anything?"
"No," Michelle replied, shaking her head. "I just saw it and. . .bumped into you. I'm sorry about that, Lieutenant. Sometimes, I can be such a clutz--"
The Lieutenant smiled. "I've had worse," he said. "At least you didn't fall on the ground."
"Yeah well, you've got pretty good reflexes, sir."
The Lieutenant gave her a surprised look. Michelle felt the heat rise to her cheeks. "I'm sorry, sir, that was totally uncalled for," Michelle replied, turning away slightly.
"It's all right, Ensign," the Lieutenant waved off the remark with a wave of his hand. Then he turned and faced the car. "Hello, I'm Lieutenant . . ."
"Ensign!"
Michelle turned around to see Admiral Chegwidden approaching her. After exchanging a quick salute, Admiral Chegwidden asked, "What happened?" Then he noticed the car. "Is this your car?"
"Yes, sir," Michelle replied. "It appears someone did a bit of. . .destruction."
The Lieutenant turned around just after she spoke. "The police are on their way," he reported. Then he noticed Admiral Chegwidden and saluted him.
"You reported it, Lieutenant Davidson?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then we'll just have to wait until the MPs show up," Admiral Chegwidden said.
Michelle bit her lip. "Sir, I'm sorry about this."
"Did you beat up your own car, Ensign?"
"No, sir."
"Then don't be sorry," Admiral Chegwidden said.
"But sir, I feel bad because now you're going to spend your lunch hour here. Why don't you just head out to lunch and I'll meet up with you later today?" Michelle suggested.
"Michi, I'm not leaving you here by yourself," Admiral Chegwidden replied firmly. "I can have lunch tonight at dinner anyway."
"If I may make a suggestion, sir, Ensign," Lieutenant Davidson spoke up. When the two turned to him, he said, "I could stay here until the MPs show up and give them a statement for you. All they need to do is fill out a report." He turned to Michelle. "If you'll trust me enough to make the report."
"That sounds great, Lieutenant--thank you," Michelle replied.
***
"I don't know if office work is really my type," Michelle replied several hours later. She was seated in Admiral Chegwidden's office again, glancing briefly at the stack of papers on her lap.
"Working in the JAG offices isn't--well, there's a lot of paperwork involved, of course, but it's not completely paperwork," Admiral Chegwidden replied. "There are JAG-manned investigations, which involves travelling to other countries and states. I'll tell you what, why don't you go around the office and talk with some of my people. Maybe you can get their opinions about working here, and see if it's something you'd like to do."
"Sounds good, sir," Michelle replied. She stood at attention for a moment, and then turned around and headed out of the office. Who to go to. . .Michelle's gaze fell on a two-striped Lieutenant, a blonde-woman moving folders around her desk. "Afternoon, ma'am," Michelle said when she approached the woman.
When the woman looked up, Michelle almost wanted to turn around and head off. "Ensign, what can I do for you?" It was more of a crisp statement than a question. Come on, even Commander Everett was scarier than she is. . .
Looked down at the name plate. Lieutenant Lauren Singer. Michelle looked back up forced a smile on her face. "Ma'am, my name is Ensign Cruz, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about working at JAG."
The Lieutenant scowled. "I supposed I could spare a few minutes," Lieutenant Singer replied, narrowing her eyes slightly. "What are you doing anyway, Ensign--some sort of newspaper article?"
"Actually, ma'am, I'm trying to find the right job. You see, I just graduated from ROTC at--"
Lieutenant Singer waved her hand in the air and plopped down on her seat. "I'm really pressed for time here, Ensign. What questions did you have?"
Michelle repressed a sigh. "Well, I was wanting to know if you enjoy your work here," she said.
"The JAG offices is a wonderful place to work in," Lieutenant Singer replied. "There's the occassional skirmish with some of the lawyers, but nothing really serious."
Am I hearing correctly? "Excuse me, ma'am?"
Lieutenant Singer shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "Next?"
"What types of things do you do? I mean, Admiral Chegwidden mentioned to me that sometimes there are JAG-manned investigations where you have to travel to other states and even other countries. Do you do a lot of the travelling?"
"We occassionally do travelling," Lieutenant Singer replied. She sighed. "I'm sure the real question you're asking is if we ever get hurt, right?"
Michelle frowned. "No, not exactly, ma'am."
Lieutenant Singer gave Michelle a doubtful look. "I'll answer that question anyway. I'm sure Admiral Chegwidden told you what happened with one of our lawyers, right?" When Michelle shook her head, Lieutenant Singer went on, "He was the JAG aboard the USS Seahawk and he was going to Afghanistan to watch a ceremony of a school dedicaction when, get this, he steps on a mine--and loses his leg."
Michelle gasped. "Oh no, that's horrible! My gosh. . .is he all right?"
Singer nodded. "Yeah, he lost his leg. . ." she replied airily. "And if you're wondering, that sort of thing happens as well." She got up and walked away. "Comes with the job."
Michelle frowned and turned to look at the Lieutenant's retreating figure. "--Lieutenant!" she called out, but Singer didn't turn around.
***
As she walked outside of the building, Michelle noticed the flag being lowered. She immediately saluted the flag as it was lowered, and felt a small smile tug at the corner of her lips. The sight instantly brought her back to her memories of watching the flag being lowered at Basic Training.
So much has changed since then, Michelle thought as the flag was now being folded up. She dropped her arm and as she was walking down the steps, someone patted her on the shoulder. "I was wondering when you'd show up," Lieutenant Davidson said, smiling.
"Lieutenant!" Michelle replied, saluting him quickly. "I'm sorry, sir, did I keep you waiting?" she asked.
"Actually, I came out of the building right after you did," Lieutenant Davidson replied. "And I don't think we've really been formally introduced. I'm Jeffrey Davidson." He said, extending his hand.
Michelle shook his hand. "I'm Ensign Michelle Cruz," Michelle replied.
Lieutenant Davidson nodded. "Yeah--didn't you pull TDY here about almost four years ago?"
"You remember?" Michelle asked, surprised. "Even Petty Officer Tiner doesn't remember!"
"I've been cursed with photographic memory," Lieutenant Davidson replied. "I knew I recognized you when I bumped into you at the parking lot at lunch. . .I just didn't think it was the right time to say anything."
"Sir, thanks so much for giving that report for me."
"You can call me Jeff, if you want," Lieutenant Davidson said. "I don't know if you've noticed. . .things are sort of lax around the office."
Michelle shrugged slightly. "Somewhat," she replied. "Since we're going on first names, you can call me Michi."
"Is that your nickname?"
Michelle rolled her eyes. "My father's pet-name. It kinda stuck." She pulled out her keys as they reached her car. "Thanks for walking me to my car," she said, grinning.
"No problem," Jeff replied.
"I'll see you around then," Michelle said, reaching into the car through the space where the window was and gingerly pulling up the lock.
"Are you--are you just starting here at JAG offices?"
"Actually, I'm still deciding. I might decide to stay. . we'll see how things go," Michelle replied, feeling slightly confused. "Why?"
"Nothing," Jeff replied quickly. "I was--just wondering if there would be a new addition to the JAG family."
"Oh," Michelle said. She smiled. "All right then, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then." Just as she opened her car door, Jeff put his hand on her shoulder.
"Why don't I give you a lift to the Car Rental company? Maybe we can make them replace your car. How long are you staying here again?"
"About a week and a half."
Jeff shrugged. "I don't think you'd really want to go around with a broken window and flat tire. Not only is it unsafe, it's very unappealing."
Michelle smiled at the joke, making Jeff smile as well. "If you insist," Michelle replied jokingly. Jeff gestured the way to his car and they started heading off. "I don't think I remember you. . ." Michelle started as they walked.
***
Several feet away, someone was watching the two head towards a large pick-up truck. The person narrowed her eyes. It's just luck that you didn't ride that car today, she thought as the short, dark-haired woman climbed into the passenger seat.
The Lieutenant walked around his truck to the driver's side and paused--then he turned in her direction. He frowned and shook his head, and a moment later, had climbed into the driver's seat.
Lucky this time--but you won't be so lucky the next.
To be continued. . .
