Author's note: I'm not going to pretend to be an expert at this particular series, so be patient if I make some errors or mistakes along the way. However, since my original works are going nowhere fast, I decided to oblige a cousin of mine who had been begging me for some time to try my hand at this… Enjoy it if you can…
Episode 1:
A New Reliever in the Bullpen
JAG offices: 1154, August 23
The day had seemed totally normal. As a matter of fact, everything was so routine up until noon or so that Petty Officer Tiner had almost thought that today was yesterday. Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie were in her office, looking over files and alternating pairs of chopsticks into a small bucket of Chinese with a synchronization that rivaled world champion figure skating pairs. Lt. Roberts, wheelchair and all, were dutifully tapping away at his computer, researching god knows what. Bud's wife, Harriet, was trying to drink the coffee that Colonel MacKenzie had made a half-hour ago. Lt. Singer and Commander Turner had left for a verdict reading, and likely wouldn't be back for an hour.
Indeed, things were going exactly as normal… if anything in the JAG offices could ever be labeled normal. But everything was in its place, and nothing unexpected had cropped up.
Then noon came around…
Tiner was studying for his final bar exam, since the Admiral hadn't called him to perform any specific task recently. So engrossed in his notes was the young man that he at first didn't hear the polite cough above him. A second cough, slightly louder than the first, finally caught his attention.
Tiner looked up, and regarded the uniformed officer above him. The man was dressed in a neatly pressed deep blue Air Force uniform, complete with a rather impressive collection of ribbons. The standard Air Force issue dress hat was tucked under his left arm, and on his left breast pocket was a midnight blue name tag with white lettering, "Major Harrington." His brown, somewhat unruly hair contrasted his light blue eyes in a way that seemed almost unnatural.
"Can I help you, sir?" Tiner asked.
"Yes, I have a meeting with Admiral Chegwidden. Could you direct me to his office?" The young officer replied. The officer didn't appear to be much older than Tiner.
"Follow me. I'll let the Admiral know you are here." Tiner replied, and led the Air Force officer to Chegwidden's office. He knocked on the door, and hearing the gruff voice on the other side bid enter, stuck his head in the door.
"Sir…" Tiner began nervously. There was something about the Admiral that always unnerved him, and it wasn't just rank. "There is a Major Harrington to see you, sir."
The Admiral's face seemed to light up in recognition. "Send him in, Tiner." Tiner turned to the officer, and motioned for the man to enter, closing the door quietly and getting as much distance from the office as possible.
Chegwidden's OfficeThe officer snapped to attention, and said, "Major Steve Harrington reporting for duty, sir."
"At ease, Harrington. Sit down." The Admiral answered, frowning slightly as Harrington took his seat. Chegwidden gathered his thoughts before continuing, "I don't normally grant personal favors like this."
"I don't normally accept personal favors, sir. So perhaps we should just accept these exceptions to the rule and proceed?"
AJ's frown turned upward, at least into a flat expression. "Well… considering what happened with…"
"It's in the past, sir. You were doing your job, and did it well." Harrington answered.
"Very well." The Admiral replied. "I apologize that this was rather sudden, but they didn't put your name on the transfer list initially."
"That was my fault, sir. I didn't put my name on the list until I learned that it was the Virginia office that had an opening."
"That… was my doing." Chegwidden admitted. "I made the opening in the hope you would bite. You've garnered quite a reputation quite quickly. If you do what you did in Seattle… you'll do fine here."
"Thank you, sir. I'm looking forward to it." Harrington replied coolly. "So… when do you want me to start getting ready?"
"I'll have Tiner set up your desk, and I would like to have you set up by the end of the day. That way I can start riding your six bright and early tomorrow." The Admiral finished that sentence with his first grin of the meeting.
"I wouldn't have it any other way, sir." Harrington answered with an equally conspiratorial grin.
"We haven't had an Air Force representative in this office for a while… so don't be too offended if you stand out somewhat."
"I won't, sir."
"Dismissed, Major."
"Yes, sir!" Harrington replied, standing and saluting in the process. As the young man turned to leave, Chegwidden spoke up once again.
"One more thing… you'll have to share an office with one of our other JAG officers. I hope that doesn't bother you."
"Not at all. Just who will I be sharing with?"
"Lieutenant Loren Singer."
Harrington blinked a couple times, then said, "Loren Singer?"
"Are you familiar with that name?" Chegwidden queried.
"If it's the same Loren Singer I'm thinking of… we had several legal courses together at Dartmouth."
"Well then, you are probably well versed in her methods and attitudes then. That will be all, Harrington."
Harrington left the office with a smile on his face. Soon after, he heard the Admiral ordering for his desk to be set up in Singer's office. Stepping into the elevator leading to the ground floor, he left to gather up his office supplies…
JAG offices: 1235, August 23Lt. Singer knocked on Admiral Chegwidden's door with the subtlety of a hurricane. AJ sighed, knowing exactly who it was, and what she was going to complain about. "Enter!"
Sure enough, Lt. Singer stepped proudly inside, and demanded, "May I be so bold as to ask why there is a second desk in my office?"
"We just received a transfer of a JAG officer from Seattle, and since you two are the lowest ranking advocates, you two are going to have to share your office."
"I didn't know of any transfer, and why did you allow it knowing there wasn't adequate office space, sir?" Singer protested.
"I only knew of this transfer two days ago myself, Lieutenant." Chegwidden answered. "Secondly, the order came directly from the Joint Chiefs of Staff himself. Apparently, they want this man here. Rather than complain to me, I suggest you get used to it, since there isn't anything any of us can do about it."
AJ was amazed that Singer didn't spontaneously combust as she stormed out of his office again, closing his door just a hint louder than politely acceptable. The Lieutenant in question strode out into the middle of the bullpen, and watched in sick glee as the personnel slowly stepped away from her.
"I want any information anyone has on this new JAG officer right here, right now!" Singer hissed loudly.
Colonel MacKenzie stuck her head out of her office, and asked, "What's this about a new JAG officer?"
"You didn't know either?" Singer mused, "Is there no one who processes this information properly around here?" She turned her venom towards Bud, who remained oblivious to it all. "What do you know about this, Roberts?"
The banter then drew Commander Rabb's attention. "What's going on out here? I've got a mountain of paperwork, and can't concentrate with all the commotion."
"According to Singer, a new JAG officer's been transferred here." Mac explained.
The news spread like a prairie wildfire, and soon everyone had formed a loose circle around Singer. Like Singer, no one seemed to have much information on the transferee, although Tiner did eventually speak up.
"There was an Air Force officer here earlier meeting with the Admiral. Come to think of it, the Admiral started ordering me to move stuff in the moment he left…"
Singer nearly leaped on Tiner like a lion on a gazelle. "So… he's Air Force, huh? What was his name?"
"I… I… don't remember…" Tiner replied. The assembled bullpen silently mused whether or not Tiner's sudden amnesia was prompted by fear of having his soul devoured.
"You know what?" Singer finally grated, "It doesn't matter who he is. If he gets in my way, I swear I'll make him regret he ever came here."
At that moment, a soft tenor replied, "Well… it's nice to see that you still have that fiery spirit, Loren."
The assembled mass turned to face the source of the voice. The Air Force officer that Tiner had met earlier stood at the entry to the bullpen, a large covered box in his hands, and a wry smirk playing across his smooth facial features.
For all save one, the Air Force officer was just another new face. But Singer obviously recognized him from somewhere. She pushed through the mob, and strode up to the man with a disbelieving look.
"Steve?" She asked in surprise, "You're the JAG transfer?"
"Indeed. I hope that you don't object to my presence." Harrington answered smoothly.
Singer huffed, then exhaled, before adding without much venom. "I suppose, since it's you, that it will be tolerable."
There was an awkward silence in the bullpen for several seconds in which a pin drop could have been heard. Finally, Harm leaned over to Mac, and whispered, "Did I just hear Singer say that something was tolerable?" His reward for the joke was a swift elbow to his gut.
"Quiet… she'll hear you." Mac whispered back.
At that moment, Admiral Chegwidden leaned out his door. "All right… what are you people up to? We've got work that needs to be done. Nice to see that you're here, Harrington. Get settled in today, and I'll see you tomorrow morning."
"Yes, sir." Harrington called out, and once the Admiral returned to his office, the crowd slowly filtered back to their original duties. "Oh yes…" Harrington suddenly stated, reaching into his box, and pulling out a small manila folder. "Who do I give my personnel record to?"
"I'll take it." Harriet replied, snatching the folder out of Harrington's hand. "Lieutenant Harriet Roberts, sir." She added, holding out her hand.
"Major Steve Harrington. It's a pleasure." He replied casually. Suddenly, Singer coughed, drawing Harrington's attention to her. "Well, I must take my leave now, Lieutenant. I shall no doubt see you later."
As Harrington followed Singer into their office, Harriet commented, "Those two have a past."
Bud smirked, and replied, "Gee, Harriet, what was your first clue?"
Break Room- 1310Harrington poured himself a cup of coffee, but before he could take a sip, a tap on his shoulder drew his attention.
"We didn't have the privilege of meeting earlier." The dark-skinned man in a Navy uniform stated, holding out his hand, "Commander Sturgis Turner."
Harrington exchanged pleasantries with the commander, and Sturgis commented, "So you get to share an office with Lt. Singer?"
"Yep, that's me."
"I'm sorry."
Harrington couldn't help but laugh at that. "Oh, She's not so bad if she lets you get to know her." With that, he took a long draw from his mug. Seconds later, his face turned red, and he quickly turned to the sink, spitting out the liquid.
Sturgis raised an eyebrow, and Harrington explained, "That marine Colonel made this coffee, didn't she?"
Sturgis smirked, and replied, "How did you know?"
"It's marine coffee, sir. Thick sludge that numbs the brain so that they don't scream in horror at the reality of their duties." His grin was almost infectious in itself.
Sturgis's smirk grew a little wider, and he warned, "I sugest you don't say that in Colonel MacKenzie's presence, Major. She'd roast your six. I also suggest you learn how to swallow that sludge." With a chuckle, Sturgis left the break room taking one long gulp out of his own mug.
Gainsborough Court; Fairfax, Virginia- 1855Harrington sighed as he dropped the twentieth box of personal items into the living room of his new apartment. "Yeesh… I have about 80% of my crap still in Seattle… how did I compile all these worthless goods?" He muttered to himself
Looking down at his watch, he figured that it would still be a couple days before the moving crew even left Seattle, then it would be another couple of days before they got here. Plenty of time for him to worry about where everything was going to go.
"If I could figure out where to start." He added ruefully. This is why he hated long moves.
Fortunately, a knock on his apartment door relieved him temporarily of his dilemma. He answered the summons, and for a brief second, analyzed his visitors. Harrington had always thought of himself as being rather tall, but the man in front of him had him by at least three inches. The other was a shorter brown haired woman, and Harrington quickly suddenly recognized the pair as two officers who had floated around the mob as Harrington had arrived to move into his office.
"Good evening… what can I do for you?" Harrington asked warily.
"Good evening to you as well." The man replied, "I'm Commander Harmon Rabb, and this is Colonel Sarah MacKenzie."
Harrington acknowledged them, and responded in kind before adding suspiciously, "How did you find this place?"
"Lt. Sims decided to share your address with the bullpen." Mac replied with a sweet smile. "She likes to keep everyone a close knit group."
Harrington's face sank into a worried frown. "I see…" After seven seconds, he slapped himself on the head, and said, "Where are my manners? Would you like to come in?"
"Sorry about the mess. I just finished moving all the boxes from my Jeep in here." Harrington explained.
Harm smiled… a little too broadly for Harrington's comfort. "Well, I think we have a couple hours to kill if you think you need a hand, right Mac?"
"Certainly." The Colonel agreed.
Harrington shrugged passively, and said, "If you want, I certainly won't say no. Just open a box, and put them where you think best. Most of the boxes should be marked."
With that, the three dove right into the task at hand. Harm found several pictures and diplomas along with other little pieces of memorabilia. "So… you served in the Air Force, correct?"
"Indeed I did." Harrington affirmed.
"What did you do before you completed your bar exam?"
"I was a test pilot, sir."
This caught Harm's attention totally. He stood up straight, and replied. "No kidding… just what did you test?"
Harrington thought about it for a second, then answered, "The D model of the F-16… the C model of the F-18… as well as the prototype for the F-22."
"Ah… the Raptor. Tell me, was it as good as the Air Force advertises?"
"Well… at the time I flew it, there were still some bugs to work out, but once you got it full speed… it was like saddling the wind, sir."
"I see." Harm mused.
Mac then injected herself into the conversation, "Commander Rabb was a Navy fighter pilot before he turned lawyer, Mr. Harrington."
"Really? What did you specialize in?"
"Most of my work was done in a Tomcat, but I occasionally jumped into an Eagle, depending on the mission. Did you perform any combat duties, Harrington?"
"Officially, I could say yes… but most of my combat duty was simply patrolling the northern Iraqi No-Fly Zone. The sheer boredom was what pushed me to volunteer for test piloting, sir. That, and the automatic promotion and priority status for legal courses…" He added with a smug grin.
Harm's laugh was followed with, "You know what, Major… just call me Harm."
"Only if you call me Steve."
"Done."
Mac snorted, "There is nothing more pathetic than two flyboys prattling on about planes."
Harrington glanced in Mac's direction before asking, "Is the Colonel always this cynical and deriding, Harm?"
Mac jumped to her feet indignantly and was about to reply when she noticed that the two were laughing amiably. "Well, Commander… I'm glad you finally found a friend."
Harm mocked being hurt, and said in a false sob, "That was low, Mac. I'm scarred forever."
At that point, Harrington turned on his fellow pilot. "Are his feelings this easily hurt all the time, ma'am?"
Mac chuckled, and replied, "No… not usually." Then she added, "You know, sense we're all being so chummy, just call me Mac when we're out of the office."
"Okay… I'll try to remember that." Harrington nodded, meanwhile processing his superiors' actions. 'No wonder Loren has such a foul demeanor here. She's not used to such a casual atmosphere.'
Mac had turned back to the box she had been sorting through, when she came across an old faded picture in an antique wooden frame. "Is this your mother?" Mac asked.
Harrington paused, his smile quickly disappearing. "Yeah… I don't remember her that well though. She died when I was rather young."
"Oh… I'm sorry." Mac apologized, and began again, "What about your father?"
At that point, Harrington got very nervous. "Umm… can we talk about something else, please?" He took the photograph of his mother, and carried it into his bedroom. An awkward silence was averted as he appeared into the living room again just as another knock came from his now open door.
"Hello, hello!" Harriet called out as she stepped inside the apartment, wheeling along a man that Harrington had seen in the office, as well as a young boy that he assumed was related to them. "Sure… come on in…" Harrington muttered under his breath, but quickly regained his composure.
"I just thought I'd drop by a little housewarming gift for our new co-worker." Harriet explained. The man in the wheelchair handed Harrington a large fruit basket, and said, "Bud Roberts. It's a pleasure."
Harrington introduced himself, and then kneeled down in front of AJ. "Who is this little trooper?"
"That's our son, AJ." Bud answered.
"Oh." Harrington replied, standing again. 'Two officers in the same office married with children? I'm surprised Loren didn't have a coronary…'
Harriet then cut in, "I heard about how you have to share an office with Lt. Singer. I am so sorry."
Harrington frowned in concern. "That isn't the first time I've heard that sentiment. Is she really that bad?"
"She has been… a special treat to deal with at times." Mac interceded. Harm's slight nod confirmed the Colonel's observation. Harriet herself seemed to be a shade short of homicidal upon mention of Loren's name, and Bud seemed to also reflect a slight distaste. AJ was totally oblivious, looking in amazement at some of Harrington's aviation posters that Harm had unpacked.
"Yes… she had that element to her… professional to a fault, and solely dedicated on her goals to the point of absurdity. I figured she was starting to grow out of it when we graduated, but apparently not." Harrington commented with a wistful sigh.
"How do you know Lt. Singer?" Mac asked, curious.
"We shared several courses at Dartmouth's School of Law. I guess you could say she was a friend of mine…"
Another knock then drew Harrington's attention, and he discovered Admiral Chegwidden standing outside his door. "Am I holding a housewarming party that I didn't know about?" He smirked.
"Just stopped by to see how you were settling in, Major, but it appears that you have plenty of company already."
"A housewarming party!" Harriet suddenly exclaimed, "That's a wonderful idea! You'll have to let me know when you are all settled in, sir. I can plan everything!" The assembled guests struggled with laughter as an overwhelmed Harrington patiently listened to all of Harriet ideas for decorations and catering.
Chegwidden approached Harm and Mac while Harriet was occupying Harrington, and asked quietly. "So… what's your opinion so far?"
"If he can get along with Singer, I think he can get along with anyone." Mac appraised.
"I think he's a pretty solid fellow. Depending on how he does in the courtroom, he could potentially be a great asset."
At that moment, Harrington received another visitor. Singer knocked, then lurched back as she saw the assembly. "Oh… I didn't realize you had company, Steve. I'll let you get on with whatever you were doing."
"Nonsense. Come on in, Loren." Harrington replied.
Singer shook her head, then jut out her chin defiantly, "No, I think it's best if I just see you tomorrow morning. Good evening everyone." With that she quickly strode away before Harrington could make it to the door.
Harrington sighed in disappointment. "Well… if all of you want to help me unpack, you're more than welcome to stay, but if not, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I've got a lot of things to get done before it gets too late."
End Episode One