Are You With Me?
By
Byrhthelm
Chapter One
Monday, June 4th 2001
1345hrs EDT
National Naval Medical Centre
Bethesda, MD
(041745ZJun01)
Lieutenant Elizabeth 'Skates' Hawkes chatted inconsequentially with Commander Loftness as slowly, in deference to her stiffening bruises, the two strolled along the hospital hallway toward Harm's room, until catching sight of their target leaning on a cane and hobbling painfully ahead of them.
Beth painfully quickened her pace and hailed him, "Commander!"
Commander Harm Rabb halted and slowly turned towards the sound of her voice, smiling as he took in the sight of her in her crisp summer whites, "Hey. Wow, you're looking good, Skates!"
Beth fought hard to stop herself blushing; as much as she might wish otherwise she knew he hadn't meant it as a compliment, but as a reference to her fading bruises, "Back atcha, sir!"
Harm's face lost its smile, as he transferred his attention to Beth's companion, "Commander Loftness," he greeted him gravely.
"Rabb," the helo pilot nodded his response.
"Commander, I understand that you personally violated every safety minimum in the book while you were searching for us." Harm's voice was censorious, but Beth heard the gratitude that underpinned his words.
"Love flying at zero/zero," Loftness replied, completely unabashed by the implied criticism in Harm's words.
Harm relaxed, letting his pretended venture into officialdom drop, "We owe you our lives."
"Turns out the aircraft we gave you had a hard deck landing. Subsequent inspection uncovered no damage, looks like she was hiding her secrets from us. You ever wanna come back for a visit I'll find you a Tomcat that works."
"Well, how about next week? I'm checking out of here in a couple of days."
Beth chuckled, Harm's reply was not unexpected to someone who knew him as well as his RIO, but the look she threw him contained a fair measure of exasperation as well as a mixture of wry amusement and pride in his spirit.
"We're in port."
"Damn."
"Good luck."
They shook hands and Harm asked "That's it?"
"Yup."
Pilot and RIO stood for a few moments as they watched the other officer walk away. His words having absolved them from any blame in the loss of the aircraft, although they both knew that they would shortly be summoned before an investigation panel.
Slowly, due to the cane, Harm turned to resume his previous walk. "So... I uh... I understand you jumped my bones in sickbay." he said wonderingly, his head turned towards her as he shuffled around in a 120 degree turn.
Beth returned him a stunned look, as her face paled, then seeing the imp of mischief in his laughing eyes, and realising that she couldn't hope to deny what had happened, in the face of the combined probable testimony of doctors, nurses and corpsmen, she could only put on a brave face and brazen it out. She grinned cheekily up at him and replied, "Rumour."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. Believe me Hammer; if you had to be told, it was definitely rumour. If I had jumped your bones, conscious or unconscious, you'd never forget it!"
As soon as the words were out of her mouth Beth cringed inwardly and waited for the blast. If ever she had said anything that deserved a stern 'Red Light, Lieutenant!' that was it. She silently begged him not to take this any further and waited for his response.
Harm looked at her in some surprise. Sure, he had been flirting with her, but in their usual light-hearted manner, and he certainly hadn't been expecting to hear anything like that from Skates, but such a provocative response from her could be allowed this time. He was certainly still high on survivors' euphoria, and considering how terrified she'd been at having to eject over the ocean, and how much more keenly she must be feeling her survival, he was more than just slightly inclined to cut her a lot of slack. But, still, best bring this topic to an end ASAP!
Beth risked a further glance at his face. He wasn't smiling now, but neither did he look as if he was about to verbally flay her. She began to hope that he wasn't going to take any heed of her words and was relieved when her reading of him proved accurate when he changed the subject.
"Well, that was a hell of a ride we took, huh?"
Beth still didn't trust herself to reply to him and walked on beside him in silence. Harm, puzzled by her lack of reaction and trying to restore their customary bantering conversation attempted to provoke a light answer from her and added, "At least you went out with a bang..."
Beth bit her lip, knowing that what she was about to say would, at the very least, surprise him, "I'm returning to the Fleet, Harm."
After the way Beth had previously confessed her fears to him and now especially after her recent ordeal Harm was not just surprised, he was almost stunned, "What happened to the idea of shore duty?"
"The experience actually re-awakened my love for ship-board flying. Made me realize the danger is one of the reasons I do it." Beth knew that her ostensible reason was just a load of lying garbage, but, ever since they'd brought Harm - a dying Harm - into the sick-bay and she had exposed so much of her inner self in keeping him with the living - with her, and even though it seemed that he had no memory of events, she was all too well aware of the once-dormant emotions that episode had stirred to wakefulness in her.
"Well... what's your fiancé have to say about this?
"He supports me. Guess that's why he's my fiancé, and what about you, sir? What's next on your agenda?"
Harm grinned and gave a rueful shrug, "As soon as the medicos are happy, then it's back to JAG, and no doubt a chewing out from the Admiral!" he almost quipped.
"And what about Colonel MacKenzie?" Skates asked.
"Oh… I'll probably get a bigger chewing out from her than from the Admiral!" Harm grinned.
Skates' brow wrinkled in a frown, "Why would she…?"
"'Cause she postponed her wedding, and now she and Bug… uh… Brumby will have to make fresh arrangements," Harm explained.
Skates frowned again and gave a slight shake of her head, she had a feeling that somehow she wasn't getting the full story, but before she could comment further, Harm spoke again.
"It was good of Commander Loftness to let us know that he didn't hold us responsible for the loss of two four one."
Skates recognised the deliberate change of subject and nodded, "It was, sir, but just because he doesn't hold us responsible, it doesn't mean that the Air Accident Investigation Panel won't," she reminded him.
"True… but with Loftness' testimony about the state of the bird, I'm pretty confident that they won't pin it on me," Harm said in a cheerfully confident manner.
"H'mm… have you had any word on the convening order yet?" Skates asked.
Harm shook his head, "No, not yet…" Skates looked up at him, as he continued "But you shouldn't worry about it. There was nothing you, or I, could have done to keep that crate in the air another second. Once the controls went, we had no choice other than to punch out - and even then my seat malfunctioned."
"Yeah," Beth murmured, remembering the horror she had felt, even over her own fears, as she realised that she couldn't see any sign of Harm's 'chute that night.
But Harm hadn't finished reassuring her, "And anyway, you were the GIBS, it was my plane, my responsibility, and my decision as to whether or not or when we punched out. I distinctly remember hearing my voice, not yours, ordering 'eject! eject! eject!' so you've got nothing to worry about."
Harm looked down at the petite brunette and noted the still-troubled expression on her face, and once again made a swift change of subject, "Anyway, you didn't drag yourself all the way from your room just to hash over old times…" His voice took on a teasingly speculative tone, "So give… what exactly are you up to?"
Beth grinned, once again accepting Harm's swift change of subject, "I'm outta here, I got two weeks hospital leave, and I've finagled my uncle Elwas to fly me down to Florida tomorrow. The family's got a beach house on the Gulf Coast, my plan is to spend the next 10 to 12 days baking some of that Atlantic chill out of my body!"
Harm nodded, "Not a bad idea. Depending on how much leave I get, I'm thinking about heading out to California, spend some time with mom and Frank, figure I owe them for scaring them again!" He stopped for a rest, leaning on his cane, and looked Skates straight in the eye, "You gonna be okay flying again so soon?"
Beth shrugged, "I figure it's just like falling off a horse, the first thing you do is get right back on."
Remembering the fear that Skates had expressed even before their misadventure, and the fear that was evident in her voice during the leading to their ejection, Harm studied her once more and seeing the determination in her eyes and a hearing it in her voice his heart filled with admiration for, and yes, even pride in her courage.
"Well, you take care, Beth, and I'll see you on the flight line someday. And if I'm lucky enough to get back to the Henry for my next set of quals, you can bet your bottom dollar that I will be asking for you as my back seater!"
Skates blinked back sudden tears and swallowed to clear her throat, "Thanks, Hammer, you'll never know how much that means to me!" Then taking hold of his arm for balance she raised her tiptoes and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek.
Harm smiled and shook his head, "You realise they could throw you in the brig for that?"
Skates looked up at him, her eyes all mischief, "It was worth it!"
Wednesday June 13th, 2001
2032hrs EDT
Harmon Rabb's Apartment
4th Street NE, Washington DC
(110032ZJune01)
On his release from hospital Renée drove him home, but fussed and hovered around him, suggesting tea, coffee, music, until he replied, "No, no thank you, I just need to rest!" and it was only with great difficulty that he managed not to snap at her, especially when she started questioning their relationship.
"Renée," he had asked impatiently, "Is this all about Mac, again?"
She looked startled, and then with a brave smile said, "You know, you're right. You do need to rest… I'll just go…"
"Renée, I'm not mad at you, I just need…"
"I know, I know…you need to rest, I'll call you later," and crossing to him she kissed him gently on the cheek, and with a bright, artificial, professional smile, said "Later," and let herself out of the apartment.
Harm watched the door close behind her before he slumped back against the couch's squabs and muttered "Damn!" as he let the aches and pains of the journey from Bethesda, as short as it was, ease. And while they did, he brooded over the bombshell Renée had sprung upon him in the car.
Surprisingly, Mac and Mic Brumby – or Bugme as he still privately referred to the Australian – had done nothing about re-arranging the wedding. And that of course was sufficient for Renée's latest attack of insecurity over the status of their relationship. But that surprise was as nothing when later that evening, a woebegone Mac had hammered on the door.
Harm stood there, his mouth hanging open, completely lost for words. Mac was in no better state but she did manage a tremulous, "Hey, welcome back."
Harm made an effort to recover from his surprise and taking in his partner's appearance said in a sympathetic tone, "Wow, you look miserable. Come on in!"
Mac had already been having second thoughts and shook her head, "Maybe not…" she murmured.
Harm shook his head more vigorously, "Mac, come on in!" he repeated.
Mac bit her lip and hesitated for a second before her shoulders drooped and she stepped across the threshold, saying as she did so, "He moved out."
"He did? Why? Harm asked as he closed the door, but in a voice that betrayed little, if any, surprise"
"I don't think he believes I love him," Mac said, her voice still carrying little animation
"Do you?" Harm asked, also in a curiously flat voice.
Mac sighed audibly, "Yes."
"Well, tell him." Harm suggested.
Mac hesitated for a few seconds, seemingly finding it difficult to meet Harm's eyes, before she finally looked up and faced him, "It's complicated," she replied
"Talk to me," Harm insisted.
Mac shook her head and made a tutting sound before she said, "This is a mistake, I don't know why I'm here…"
But this time before Harm could make any further attempt at persuading the Marine to speak they were interrupted by the shrill summons of his telephone. With a single-finger gesture for her to wait, Harm picked up the phone.
"Hello…"
"Hey, Rabb, is Mac there?"
Harm's eyebrows raised as he recognised Brumby's voice and with a sidelong look at Mac, he said, "Just a minute," and then to Mac, "It's for you…"
A slightly puzzled frown creased the Marine's face as she reached for the phone on Harm's hand, "Hello…?"
"I was sitting here, wondering who you'd go to first… I have my answer…"
"Give me your address, I'll be right there!" Mac declared.
"No! I'm leaving. I've closed up the office, and I'm catching the first flight back to Australia."
"You have to be on the other side of the world to think?" Mac protested.
"I'm done thinking… 'Bye, beautiful…" he whispered the last.
"Mic…" Mac started to say and then broke off to stare in disbelief at the handset as the dialling tone sounded in her ear. Replacing the handset Mac turned slowly towards Harm and said in a disbelieving voice, "He's leaving the country…"
"Why?"
"I gotta stop him!" Mac had said, ignoring Harm's question, as she had made for the door.
"Is it because you came here?" Harm persisted.
Mac paused in the open doorway, "He just can't get past this thing with us." She said in an exasperated voice, although with whom she was exasperated, herself, Mic or Harm, or just the entire clusterfuck even she didn't know.
"Maybe that's because we can't get past it." Harm replied gently.
Mac stared at him for about three seconds and then wordlessly turned and left, closing the door behind her.
A little later Harm lay on his bed, listening to the rain, a regular downpour, beating on his windows and reflecting on almost everything that had happened since he and Skates had punched out, and thinking what a mess his life was in. It was doubtful whether his knee could ever be repaired fully so that he could pass a flight physical, and he seemed to be stuck in a relationship with Renée – a relationship that was going nowhere, and one that he resolved he would end soon… He was honest enough with himself to acknowledge that his decision was triggered in part by Brumby's decision to return to Australia, leaving Mac on her own once again, or. at least, he again acknowledged that he was selfish enough to hope for that. But even so, he braced himself for disappointment, preparing himself for the news that Mac had reached Brumby in time and had managed to persuade the stiff-necked former RAN officer to return to DC with her and that the wedding could go ahead.
His gloomy thoughts were interrupted by the summons of the telephone on his nightstand. He let it ring four times before he had steeled himself to pick up, and even the it was only with reluctance that he lifted the handset to his ear.
"Hello…"
"He's gone… he wouldn't even speak to me…" Mac's tear-filled voice sounded in his ear, ending in an audible sob.
Harm felt a stab of jubilation at the news, and half-disgusted with his own reaction he forced his voice to remain calm and soothing, "Hey… hey… don't blame yourself for this. Brumby has always acted impulsively, it was just a matter of time…"
"Wha… what are you saying?" Mac sobbed.
"This isn't going to make it hurt any less, but it's better now than six months into the marriage."
"Okay… I'm hanging up now!" Mac declared, a tinge of anger mixing with the heartbreak in her voice.
"Mac, where are you going?"
"I don't know…" she sniffled.
"Come to me," Harm urged.
"Why?"
"So we can talk."
"We already talked," she objected.
"Don't argue with me." Harm had persisted.
"I need a better reason!"
"You know the reason…" Harm had told her, only to be greeted by silence. "Mac?"
"I'm here," she answered.
"I'm waiting," Harm told her softly.
The knock on his door came much quicker than he had expected and half-puzzled and half-angered at the thought that Mac had been driving recklessly he open the door to see instead a soaking wet, dishevelled, distraught to the point of hysteria and tear-stained Renée.
"Renée?" he asked his voice filled with concern. He may have intended ending the relationship as soon as he could, but he was constitutionally unable not to respond to her distress.
"Harm… My daddy died…" she wailed.
Almost helplessly, Harm stepped back to allow Renée to enter, her arms going around his neck almost as soon as she stepped through the door. Automatically his arms went around for support and he led her towards the couch, where sitting, and bringing her with him, he let her cry on his chest while he rubbed soothing circles on her back and promised that he would see her through this difficult time ,until she fell asleep from exhaustion. Gently disengaging his arms from around her, and hers from himself, he carefully lifted her legs onto the couch and draped the Afghan throw over her to let her recuperate while she slept, and then he picked up the phone, "Hello… American Airways? I need to book two seats on the first available flight tomorrow to Minneapolis..."
He had scarcely finished making arrangements for them both to attend the funeral when the anticipated knock came art his door. With a heavy heart he crossed the room to open the door to reveal a damp Mac, the beginnings of a smile on her lips.
Harm swallowed nervously and then speaking very quietly said, "Mac, Renée's father died suddenly. Heart failure; she only just got here." He opened the door wider to allow Mac to see the exhausted and tear-stained Renée asleep on the couch.
"We can't do this now… " Harm continued, "And I promised I'd fly back with her, I should be gone a couple of days. Sorry."
Mac's heart sunk like a stone. First Mic had abandoned her, and now Harm, her best friend, her rock, her anchor was leaving her, just after his words on the phone had seemed to promise so much. Fighting down words of recrimination, but unable to hide the hurt and disappointment in her eyes she gulped and answered, "Don't be. You have to go."
"I'll call you when we land," Harm offered.
"No…" Mac shook her head and whispered, "Don't do that to her… She needs you to give her your full attention."
"And what about you?"
"I'll be okay," Mac replied, and then suggested, "When you get back…"
Renée gave a murmur in her sleep and the eyes of both Harm and Mac were drawn to her for a few seconds and then their eyes met again. Mac managed a half-smile as she stepped back before turning towards the elevator, while Harm stood in the doorway waiting until she had gone from his sight before he sighed deeply and closed the door.
Monday June 18th, 2001
2011hrs EDT
Harmon Rabb's Apartment
4th Street NE, Washington DC
(200011ZJun01)
Harm was reeling from a combination of physical and emotional fatigue when he returned home from Minneapolis. The physical tiredness was easily explained by his still-not-yet fully recovered state after his hypothermia and the ingestion of copious amounts of sea water, both of which had left him with temporarily impaired lung functions exacerbated by the stress of flying to Minnesota and back in the space of five days, and the emotional tiredness was a result of coping with Renée's – and to a less degree her family's – grief. Breathing a sigh that was equal parts relief and exasperation he almost slammed the door behind him, hanging his garment bag on the hook on the back of the door and dropping his suitcase carelessly on the floor.
For a second he debated whether he needed coffee and something to eat first, but decided that his overriding imperative was to call Mac.
Ten minutes later he sat, frowning at his telephone, Mac's house phone had gone unanswered, not even switching to her answering machine after a dozen rings, while her cell phone advised him that it was temporarily out of service or had been switched off, and advised him to try again later.
Levering himself off of the couch and limping heavily, he made his way through to the kitchen area and set the coffee brewing while he investigated the contents of his fridge and freezer, before giving that idea up as a bad job, and hitching a hip onto one of the stools at the kitchen island he drummed his fingers on the surface while he waited for the coffee to finish brewing.
Once he'd poured his mug of coffee he returned to the couch and carefully lowered himself into the seat before leaning forward to take a sip of the strong, and unusually for him, sweet brew before picking up the phone again and re-dialling both of Mac's numbers.
Five minutes later he sat back the frown on his face gradually morphing into a somewhat cynical smile into which was mixed a good cupful of self-deprecation, "Ah well," he said aloud, "they do say that repeating the same action and hoping for a different outcome is a sign of insanity…"
The draining of the last of the coffee in his mug was the precursor to his dialling of another number; this time the phone at the other end was picked up after four rings.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Harriet? This is Harm, sorry to be calling at this time of the evening. If it's inconvenient, I can all back later?"
"Commander! It's good to hear your voice again!" Harriet Sims own voice left little doubt that she was very pleased to hear from him again as she continued, "The time is no problem, sir! Little AJ's fast asleep, and we switch the phone to buzz so it won't disturb him. How are you, sir? And how's Miss Petersen?"
"Miss Petersen's okay, all things considered Harriet, she's staying on at home for a few days to help her mom… I'm fine, a little tired from the trip, but I have a few days left of my leave, so I'm going to take it easy… but Harriet, the reason I called – not that it isn't a pleasure to speak with you – but I was wondering is Mac with you? I've tried both her numbers, and there's no reply from either of them, and that's not like her…"
He was surprised when there was no answer from the bubbly blonde Lieutenant, "Harriet?" he asked, thinking for a second that maybe they had become disconnected.
"Yes, sir… I'm here…" she replied hesitantly.
"Yes, I know, Harriet…" Harm tried to put a smile into his voice. For some reason the JAG Admin Officer suddenly sounded nervous, "But is Mac?"
"No… no, sir… she's not… Didn't she tell you sir?"
"Tell me what, Harriet?" Harm's stomach sank, he knew, he just knew that Harriet was about to tell him that Mac had gone chasing after Brumby, gone to Australia.
"Uh… she's gone TAD to the Guadalcanal, sir…" Harriet's voice trailed off uncertainly.
Harm felt a wave of relief wash over him, "Oh… On an investigation, is she? Did she give you any idea as to when she'd be back?"
Once again there was a long pause from Harriet, and Harm was beginning to feel uneasy again, "Harriet?"
"Uh… it's not an investigation, sir. She's gone as SJA to 1 MEU, sir. It's a six month tour, sir…" Harriet said miserably.
It was Harm's turn to be silent as he digested the news, "I see…" he said at last.
"I'm sure she's okay, sir!" Harriet blurted out, "She's surrounded by hundreds of Marines, and she's got the Gunny to watch her back!"
"Yeah… yeah, I'm sure…" Harm said distractedly, "Thank you, Harriet… I'll… I'll come over one evening… in a couple of days… I have a present for my Godson," he added trying to lighten the mood.
"Of course, sir!" Harriet almost gushed in relief, "You know that you're welcome at any time!"
"Yes, thank you, Harriet, I know that," Harm said trying to sound positive.
"Good!" Harm could hear the smile in Harriet's voice, "But if there's nothing else, sir?"
"No… nothing else for this evening, Harriet. Give my regards to Bud and my love to little AJ, Goodnight."
"Goodnight, sir… and… and try not to worry too much, sir…"
"I'll try Harriet. Goodnight," Harm said quietly as he placed the phone back on its rest and then slumped forward, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
Monday June 18th, 2001
2103hrs EDT
The Roberts' Residence
73 West Rosemount Ave
Alexandria, VA
(180103ZJun01)
Harriet Sims put the phone down, a troubled look on her face, "Oh… Mac… what have you done now…" she sighed, but before she could take that train of thought any further she was interrupted by Bud, who having bathed and put little AJ to bed, had spent the past hour in his den cum office, looking over his opening statement for the DOD trial he was defending tomorrow.
"Oh… That was Commander Rabb, just letting us know that he's back from Minnesota, and that he'll be coming over in the next few days!" She managed a fondly exasperated expression, "He says he's got a new present for AJ! I bet it's another of his damned airplanes!"
"That's one bet I won't take you up on!" Bud grinned, "But how about I make us both a hot chocolate, and then maybe we could manage an early night?" he suggested, waggling his eyebrows.
Harriet blushed, "Yes, I think I'd like that!" she smiled.
Saturday June 23rd, 2001
1912hrs EDT
Harmon Rabb's Apartment
4th Street NE, Washington DC
(232312ZJun01)
Harm stepped back from the kitchen sink wincing a little as he absent-mindedly put his full weight on his still-healing knee. His pained expression followed swiftly by a frown as he limped across to the couch and sitting down, gently massaged his right leg. He was becoming concerned at the rate the knee injury was repairing itself, he didn't particularly want to undergo a surgical procedure, that would almost certainly mean the permanent loss of his flight status, but he need the knee to heal sufficiently in order to pass a flight physical examination before he'd be allowed back into the air.
At a loose end, he had become accustomed to spending weekends in Renée's company, but she had called mid-week to say that she was extending her stay at her mother's place, and so for a while he brooded over the chances of his eventual return to flight status and then giving it up as an unprofitable waste of time he sat undecided as to whether to listen to some music, try to pick out a few tunes on his own guitar, or… and here he cracked his first smile in days… boot up the computer and login to the website on which Bud had incautiously let slip he posted his science fiction stories.
He had just about decided on a combination of options one and three when the knock came at the door. Raising his eyebrows in mild surprise – he wasn't expecting callers this evening, he grabbed his cane and limped across to the door, squinting through the Judas hole before throwing it open with a grin on his face.
"Skates! Come on in!" he invited, the pleasure of seeing his friend swamping the negative feelings he'd had all day, "And this is?" he nodded to the tall, sandy-haired man who stood at the petite RIO's shoulder.
Skates reached out to take her companion's hand on her own as she stepped into the apartment, "Hey, Hammer, howya doin'? this is Jason Mitchell… my fiancé."
"Come on in, come on in!" Harm grinned, "Take a pew… can I get you anything to drink? Beer, juice, wine, soda, water… there's fresh… well, nearly fresh coffee?"
Skates chuckled as she and Jason settled themselves on the couch, "I'm tonight's designated driver, so a soda would do me, but if you guys want a beer, then don't let me stop you!"
"Soda it is! Tonic water with ice and a twist? Jason?"
"Uh… a beer for me, please, sir," he replied.
"Sir?" Harm queried
"You do have a step on me," the younger man pointed out.
"Oh… yeah… that's right… Beth told me you were part of the CNO's office. What do you do in there?" Harm asked as he returned to the living area.
"Op plans, sir," Lieutenant Commander Mitchell replied, as Harm twisted off the cap of a beer and passed it to him.
"Okay… let's see…" Harm said ruminatively, "I don't work at the fumble farm, so the odds of us ever meeting in uniform are pretty slim… and as far as that goes, we're not in uniform now… we're off duty… you're in my apartment, so why don't we dispense with protocol for the evening at least. And the same goes for you, Miss Hawkes!" he finished with a grin as he raised his beer in a silent toast.
"Hell, I wasn't going to go all formal anyhow!" Skates grinned, "I figure that if Hammer is good enough for the ready room then it's good enough for the living room!"
"Well argued, counsellor!" Harm grinned, but then his grin faded "But what are you doing here, Skates… isn't your leave finished?"
"My hospital leave sure is, but I have to report to Bethesda on Monday for a flight physical, and the CAG was good enough to let me have a weekend pass. The Henry is still alongside at Norfolk, and all our birds are up at Andrews…"
"Ah…" Harm nodded in acknowledgement, and it seemed to the brunette that a shadow passed over his face.
"Do… do you ever miss it, Hammer?" she asked tentatively.
"Miss what? Flying? Miss everything stinking of jet fuel, the catapults banging all day and all night, pitching decks, being shot off the bow, the scream of engines at peak revs when they trap, a rack that's at least four inches too short for me, six months of mystery meat and canned and frozen veggies?" Harm took a sip from his beer, "Hell, yeah, I miss it!"
Beth grinned widely and Jason managed to smile although Harm didn't miss the worried look he shot at Beth.
In an effort to keep the atmosphere light Harm asked, "So where and how did you two meet?"
Jason looked across at Beth, who shrugged and said, "You tell him, and I'll put you right when you get it wrong!"
"Never happen!" Jason grinned and took Beth's hand in his, "We were both serving on the Coral Sea… Beth had recently joined her squadron, and I was a DO in Surface Warfare, at that time I was commanding a watch in the CIC, so I had some contact with the flyers. Something had upset Beth one morning and she came storming into the wardroom and cannoned right into me, sent me, my breakfast, and my coffee flying. I… uh… cautioned her about flying through doors, and she then tore me a new one. Something about the way she lit into me appealed to my sense of humour, and I made a determined effort to get to know her. It took me four months to get through her barriers, and then at the end of that deployment, I PCSd to DC so I asked her out on a date, that was four years ago…" he smiled at Beth.
Beth took a sip of her tonic water, and chuckled, "He nearly got it right, 'cept that I didn't storm into the wardroom, I entered in a ladylike manner, and I didn't run into him – he backed into me, wasn't looking where he was going, and it was me had to warn him about keeping a three-sixty degree watch!"
Then she sobered, "But yeah, it was four years ago… and we've been dating ever since. We got engaged last year and we were going to wait until I finished this tour before we thought about setting a date. But…" she gulped, "After our swim, Jason and I decided it would be dumb to waste any more time, when either one of us might not be here tomorrow, so we've actually come here tonight to tell you that we're getting married on July 28th, and I'd… uh… we'd very much like it if you could attend…" she dipped her hand into her purse and pulled out a lavender envelope.
"The ceremony will be here in DC… so you won't have to travel… and…"
Harm shook his head as a huge grin spread over his face, "Beth, you don't have to beg, entice or bribe me, I shall be delighted to go to your wedding! Congratulations to the pair of you!"
Beth's answering grin was just as broad, "Great! We'll take that as an acceptance then! Now… have you still got that Uckers set? If so, prepare for an eight-piece dicking!"
"Yeah?" Harm scoffed as he pulled himself to his feet and limped across to the closet, where he pulled the game from the top shelf, "Remember the last time you threatened that? Who was it ended up with an eight-piece at home?"
"I did not!" Beth exclaimed indignantly.
"No? Then why is your signature scrawled across the back of the board!" Harm scoffed.
"Be warned, Hammer, revenge is sweet!" Beth muttered darkly while Jason looked on in bemused amusement.
Friday, July 20th, 2001
0842hrs IOT
USS Guadalcanal
The Indian Ocean
(171242ZJul01)
Harm had returned to duty on Monday June 25th, none the wiser as to Mac's reasons for taking on an extended TAD. Twice he had managed shore to ship calls to the Guadalcanal's legal office, both times being informed that Colonel MacKenzie was out of the office. His visit to the Roberts' home had afforded him an opportunity to play with his Godson, who had gleefully recognised his 'Unca Harm' and demanded to 'Play Airplane!' but had afforded him little else other than one of Harriet's superb home-cooked dinners. Neither Harriet nor Bud had been able to shed any light as to why Mac had gone TAD, other than she'd had an interview with the Admiral and emerged from his office with the beginnings of a smile on her face – the first one they had seen since they had heard the news of Harm's crash – and a cheerful, "Gunny, pack your sea-bag!"
The only information he had gleaned had been courtesy of Lieutenant Loren Singer who, with a sympathetic smile that Harm instantly distrusted, volunteered the information that, "I believe Colonel MacKenzie volunteered for the assignment, sir."
Harm had glared at the woman believing that she had spoken only to rub salt into his wounds, but her words, tone and bearing left him nothing into which to fasten that belief.
Harm had finally managed to get through to Mac on her satellite phone, but the conversation had been eminently unsatisfactory. She had stonewalled and deflected his questions, and after a very short conversation pleaded pressure of work, but had at least, in response to his urgings promised to call him back. The connection broken, Harm had frowned both disappointment and disbelief; he disliked the idea that Mac had lied to him, but in his innermost heart was convinced that she was neither busy, nor that she would return his call.
Seemingly the only bright spot in Harm's life was the arrival at JG HQ of hi old academy room-mate and good friend Sturgis Turner. The twenty years since Harm had departed for flight school and Sturgis had gone to be a bubblehead dissolved in a flash and the two had quickly taken up a schedule of weekly one on one basketball games and a couple of cold beers and it wasn't long before Sturgis had volunteered to help Harm restore a classic corvette in order to replace the one stolen two years previously.
Then had come the present case. A Marine Corps Major, Major Warren Lasley, had been charged with Dereliction of Duty and Negligent Homicide, and by order of the convening authority, the skipper of the Guadalcanal, to be tried by Special Court Martial aboard the ship. Mac as SJA was to prosecute, but defense counsel was needed, and Harm had lobbied hard for the assignment, his third or fourth attempt to get out to the Indian Ocean to see Mac and to try talking with her, to find out what was going on in her head.
The whole thing is turning out to be a disaster. First, it hadn't helped his case with Mac, when he turned up unexpectedly, as a completely unwelcome surprise just as she formally charged Major Lasley. To say that Harm got the feeling that he was the last person that Mac wanted to see would be an understatement. And her demeanour from that moment on couldn't have made her feelings more clear.
Then Major Lasley had been unhappy with Harm's trial strategy and had asked for a civilian attorney. Harm still needed to be present to guide Larry Kalinski through the vagaries of Court Martial procedures and soon discovered that the civilian attorney was loud-mouthed, opinionated and certain that he could manipulate a military court in whatever manner he pleased. He dismissed all of Harm's concerns about the case in a decidedly off-hand, not to say cavalier manner, and treated him almost as a legal-aide, despite Harm's second-chair status.
By the end of the first day in court, Harm had had enough and after a hasty swallow of coffee in the ward room, he could no longer contain his impatience and set out to find Mac's cabin cum legal office.
After a few false starts he finally found the object of his search and rapping on the bulkhead he smiled and asked, "Can I come in?"
Mac looked up, slightly surprised, from the document she was working on and offered a somewhat stiff half-smile, "Sure…"
Harm took two paces across the cabin until he stood with his back with a double bunk, and due to the close confines of the space almost looming over Mac as she sat at her computer. "Do you know why I requested this assignment?" he asked.
"No," Mac replied, she was already feeling crowded by his presence and she wasn't sure she wanted to know just why her partner had requested this detail.
"Because I need to talk to you, and I knew that you weren't going to call me back," Harm virtually accused her before continuing in a more puzzled tone, " I don't get it, Mac, when Brumby left you asked for my help"
"I'm handling it."
"Halfway around the world," Harm replied in as a relaxed manner as he could, trying to maintain a smile while the equally tried to keep anger and hurt out of his voice.
"It seemed like the right thing to do," Mac's tone was replete with a plea for understanding. But Harm gave a brief shake of his head.
"You're running, Mac, what's going on?"
Max hands fluttered in a vague gesture "Nothing," she protested.
Again Harm gave that barely visible shake of his head, "Let me in, tell me what you're feeling," he persisted.
Mac looked up, "Pressured… Why… why are you doing this?"
Harm was feeling increasingly puzzled, to him Mac's decision to ask for this TAD, and now her obfuscation and deflections were becoming increasingly enigmatic. "Because I said I would," he replied.
Mac could feel her anger rising, she had left DC in order to avoid precisely this sort of confrontation, and now increasingly uncomfortable at Harm's standing over her she pushed her chair back and stood, arms folded across her chest "Wait a minute, you are talking to me now because you're feeling guilty about not doing it then?"
Harm looked at her in blank astonishment for a second, "What? You're angry at me for that? Renée's father had just died!" He just didn't get this, Mac had appeared to understand Renée's need for him back in DC and now she was trying to lay a guilt trip on him. What sort of louse did she think he ought to have been, by turning his back on his distraught girlfriend at such a time.
"And if he hadn't?" Mac demanded.
"We would have talked," Harm replied earnestly.
"About what?" Mac wanted to know.
Harm's eyebrows rose towards his hairline. He knew Mac wasn't stupid, hell, she was one of the most intelligent people he knew, but by asking the questions she was, she was a wrong footing him at every turn. "About us."
"That's why I left, Harm. There is no us; there's you and Renée. What are you willing to give up to have me? Mic gave up the Navy and his country, would you sacrifice your girlfriend?"
"What? Are you testing me?" Harm said in disbelief.
"Well, would you?" Mac insisted.
Harm hesitated for a few painful seconds, "What if I did?"
"Answer the question!"
"As long as you answer mine!" Harm objected.
"Hah! I'm so sick of this dance!" Mac spat out, and turned towards the door.
Harm took two seconds to gather his thoughts, "Let's just make this a level playing field," he suggested. "First, Mic didn't resign from the Australian Navy, he reserved his commission, kept it as a fallback position. And secondly, yes, I not only would give up Renée, but I had, even before the events of that evening decided that our relationship wasn't going anywhere, and if her father hadn't died that day… Well, let's just say that she would have been history the following day."
Harm's news about Mic's naval status was like a slap in the face is far as Mac was concerned. She went white with anger, and said, "You expect me to believe that, about Renée?"
Harm looked at her with something very much akin to shock written large on his face, "Mac! I have never lied to you!"
Mac had the grace to blush, "No, no you haven't. I shouldn't have said that, but if you'd already decided that you had no future with Renée, well, that's more or less invalidates my question. So," her voice resumed its angry edge, "what else would you give up? Would you give up flying?"
Harm stood in stunned silence, of all people, Mac knew the best just how much flying an F-fourteen meant to him, and he was rendered speechless that she would use that particular weapon against him. Turning away from her so that she wouldn't see the hurt and disappointment on his face, he swallowed, hard three times before he could find his voice. "Yes," he finally gritted out, "I would give up flying."
His words were greeted by silence, and he turned back to face her, needing see Mac's reaction, only to find that she had slipped out of the cabin and into the passageway while his back was turned, and that he had spoken to an empty space.
He spun on his heel and lunged through the doorway, looking left and right for a glimpse of his partner. There was no sign of her, but on instinct he turned to his left and forged down the passageway, side-stepping members of the Guadalcanal's crew and embarked Marines as he did so until he reached the open compartment with companionways leading to upper and lower decks, breathing a sigh of relief as he spied Mac, and swallowing his disappointment as he realised that she was now in conversation with Gunnery Sergeant Galindez, making any resumption of personal matters out of the question.
He swallowed his disappointment, and with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, exclaimed, "Gunny! Good to see you!"
"You too, sir!" Victor Galindez replied with a beaming smile of his own, and then as he picked up on the tension between the two officers, his smile faded and he glanced anxiously from one to the other.
Harm stared at Mac as he tried to silently communicate his need to continue the conversation from which she had run, but her face assumed a mask-like impassiveness. "If you'll excuse us, Commander, I need to speak with the Gunny about the case, so…"
Biting back his disappointment, Harm could only say, "Of course, Colonel. I'll see you in court tomorrow. Good night Colonel, Gunny…" and with a nod to each he turned on his heel and shouldering his way through the crowded passageway he made his solitary way back to his temporary cabin to start work on his defence strategy.
The fallout from that conversation left its mark by generating a considerable amount of personal tension between the two JAGs throughout the trial, and every attempt by Harm at the end of each day's business to resolve matters with Mac was stymied by her pointed avoidance of him.
Now, the trial over, he waited on the flight deck to board the CH-53 Sea Stallion would take him and Kalinski to the USS Coral Sea, and the COD that would take him to Diego Garcia on the first leg of his journey back to DC, and while he waited he scanned the Guadalcanal's upper works, searching in vain for a sight of Mac wishing him farewell.
Saturday July 28th 2001
1400hrs EDT
Christ Episcopal Church
107 S Washington St
Rockville, MD
(281800ZJul01)
Harm had, as was only right, fitting and proper, replied formally to Beth and Jason's wedding invitation, indicating that he would be attending without the "plus one" of the invitation.
Three days later, he had just finished serving up his vegetable stir-fry dinner, when his house phone rang, picking up the cordless handset he tucked it into his shoulder holding it in position with the side of his face, "Rabb."
"Hey, Hammer, howyah doin'?"
Despite the mood of despondency that had held him in its grip since his return from the Guadalcanal, Harm felt the corners of his mouth lift in a weak grin, at the cheerful note in the caller's voice.
"Pretty good, and you, Skates?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty good, but…" she hesitated slightly, "umm… I was a bit surprised though to see that you're not bringing Renée, or Colonel MacKenzie to the wedding…" And although her words were not phrased as a question the rising inflection at the end of the sentence suggested a certain degree of curiosity.
Harm drew a silent breath, despite his friendship with Skates he wasn't about to reveal his recent dealings and his present confusion over the status of his friendship with Mac, so he contented himself with a fairly brusque "Renée and I aren't together anymore, and Mac's TAD to the Indian Ocean, and she's not scheduled to be back until November."
" Oh, Harm, I'm sorry…" Once again she hesitated for a couple of seconds, "but… If that's the case then would you have any great objections to helping me out here?"
Harm's natural instinct was to respond immediately with an "of course" but for some reason he allowed a note of caution into his voice, "Just how?"
"Umm… One of my friends, a very good friend, someone I went through RIO School with is also coming stag, and I thought maybe you could sort of act as each other's escort for the day…"
Harm frowned, "I'm not so sure about that, Skates, I'm still recovering from… from… being dumped by Renée…" he left the end of the sentence hanging.
"Renée dumped you? The woman's certifiable!"
Harm couldn't help but smile at the indignation and vehemence in Skate's voice, and when he spoke she could hear the amusement in his voice, "'Fraid so, she dumped me for her high school sweetheart, Cyrus something or other, a mortician."
Harm was nearly deafened by the shout of laughter in his ear, "A mortician? Wow! After dating you, she dumped you for a mortician? Talk about being downwardly mobile!"
"Yeah, it does have its comedic side," Harm agreed, and once again Beth heard the smile in his voice.
"So… No real broken heart then, so you will help me out?"
"I dunno Beth, I mean it's… It wouldn't seem right you fixing me up with a date."
"Oh, it's not a date!" Beth denied, "Melanie's married, very happily married, her husband is deployed though, he's a Lieutenant Commander serving in the Yorktown, and as you and Mel are the only two unaccompanied guests, it just sort of made sense that…"
Harm frowned interrupted, "So it's just a matter of being an official escort, fetching her drinks holding her chair, that sort of thing?" he asked.
"That's it, exactly!" Beth agreed, and then a thought struck her, "in fact, you might know her, she's with the Howlers at Miramar, and didn't you tell me you investigated a couple of mishaps out there with them?"
"Yeah, yeah I did…" Harm drew a deep, shuddering breath as he remembered the two mishaps, both of which involved the deaths of friends, first Luke Pendry, and then later his wing man, Tess McKee. Shaking off the melancholy, he found himself, to his surprise, agreeing to Beth's request, "Okay, I'll play nice with the lady for the day…"
"Thanks, Hammer, I knew I could count on you!"
"Flattery will get you almost anything!" Harm grinned.
"You wish!" Beth grinned, but then her voice became serious, "But, really, thanks Hammer."
So now, Harm found himself sharing a church pew with a tall, willowy auburn-haired woman of about the same age as skates, neatly but unostentatiously dressed in a pale-green lightweight suit. Melanie Fairchild turned out to be a no-nonsense, matter of fact young woman, who on first meeting Harm had written off as being sensible the point of being over-serious, but that was before they exchanged more than a few words and he had caught on to her underlying sense of humour that had been betrayed by the laughter lurking in her eyes.
But at the moment the attention of all was fixed on the two figures standing before the altar. Jason in his Summer Dress Whites, complete with medals, and Skates in a high necked, long-sleeved, white wedding dress. It was a little difficult for anybody in the same row as Harm and Melanie, or behind them to make out any details, as the front rows of pews were taken up by the massed ranks of Beth's huge family. Not only had her parents attended the wedding, but four of her seven sisters and her three brothers, together with their spouses and what seemed to be an entire squadron of children, had also made the trek to DC, most of them had travelled up from Florida, but one brother and two sisters had travelled clear across the continent from the West coast, one each from Washington State, Oregon and California.
But that wasn't the end of it. Five out of Beth's eight uncles, three from her mother's – the Turkish side – of the family, and two of her father's brothers from the Native American moiety, and three of her five aunts, all from her mother's family, with spouses and families had also made it to DC the wedding.,
Beth's father, John Hawkes, was a deeply-tanned, dignified man of about five foot eleven, maybe six foot, Harm judged, his slightly darker complexion and the bone structure of his face betraying his heritage. Although reserved to the point of taciturnity, Harm noted the softening of his expression each time his gaze fell on a member of his family, and the way at the reception his grandchildren swarmed him was ample proof as far as Harm was concerned of his gentle, inner nature.
Beth's mother Deniz, was a totally different proposition. If Beth was petite, Deniz Hawkes was tiny, only a fraction over five feet tall and was slim to the point of thinness, and despite her age exhibited an air wiry toughness. On being introduced to Harm at the reception she had fixed him in place with a penetrating, dark-eyed stair before she relaxed and let her mouth take on the curve of a smile that was reflected in her eyes, "So… you are the one my daughter goes swimming with?" she challenged.
"Uh… yes, ma'am," Harm replied, not sure of just what was coming down the pike.
"She tells me that it was your promise to stay with her that kept her alive out there…"
Harm's expression grew bleak, "I owe both you and she an apology for that ma'am. I failed to keep that promise, and I don't generally make promises that I don't intend to keep."
Deniz Hawkes looked searchingly into his eyes, and then nodded once, as If she had reached a decision. "From what Elizabeth tells me, it was a pretty rough night out there. Now, I've never been in a storm at sea, but some of my husband's family live in Oklahoma, and I have seen the power of nature in tornadoes, and I have a pretty shrewd idea that there was nothing you could have done out there to overcome wind and waves, but it was her belief in your words that kept my little girl fighting out there. And for that I thank you."
Harm reddened, "Ma'am, it's the other way 'round. When they go me back aboard the carrier, I was night frozen to death and it didn't look like I was going to make it; it was your Elizabeth who called me back… she called me back to fulfil that promise. I don't fully understand what happened that night in sick quarters, but I do know that I owe Beth my life, and for that I can never thank her enough!"
"So… you saved each other then…" Deniz Hawkes eyes twinkled, "My Elizabeth was right, you are a formidable team!" She laughed lightly when Harm's cheeks reddened under the warmth of her praise, and reaching up, she patted him lightly on the upper arm, "Go now, go, and enjoy the party!"
"Aye, aye, ma'am!" Harm replied.