AN: This comes from a larger unpublished universe, but I felt that these couple scenes could stand on its own. Maybe, eventually, I will get around to finishing it to a point that it is publishable. Anyways, enjoy. Oh yeah, and as always I own none of these characters.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Harmon Rabb, Jr. pulled his Lexus SUV into the garage before climbing out. He checked his watch, noting it was shortly after 1:30. Mattie, his daughter, wouldn't be home for another hour and a half. That still gave him plenty of time to finish preparations. He had hoped to have the day off work to celebrate Mattie's birthday, but the best he could do was come straight home from the Pentagon where he had spent the morning in the semi-monthly liaison meeting between JAG and the Navy Secretariat.
They had spent most of the morning talking through one case in particular. Twenty-five days ago, Joshua Schultz, a petty officer in Southern California had gone on a rampage first at his parents' home killing both before driving to his girlfriend's office where she served as the Yeomen for the Commander of the Regional Legal Services Office on the San Diego Naval Base. Continuing his rampage he killed his girlfriend, the Regional Commander, and seven other people before running out of ammunition. It had left the community stunned and the JAG corps was still in shock. Harm as Deputy Judge Advocate General for Pretrial Investigation was overseeing the investigation from Washington. His wife of four years, Sarah Mackenzie, the Chief of Staff at the JAG Headquarters had flown out three weeks ago to oversee the now shattered office in San Diego.
"Maria," Harm called up the stairs from the foyer. "I'm home."
"Si, Senior," he heard echo from the otherwise quiet upstairs of the house. She must be putting his little boy down for a nap. He knew if he headed upstairs now, the boy would never go down. So out of habit he went to put his briefcase down in his home office in the basement, which also held the gym, and playroom. His wife's office on the other hand was up on the third floor with the bedrooms. When they bought the house shortly after getting married they had noted that perhaps a full floor between their respective offices would mitigate a conflict of interest. After all their offices at headquarters shared a wall, they often joked. But really, their respected prevues were so different now that the only time they faced off was over budget allocations and what to make for dinner. He couldn't remember the last time either one of them had been in court.
Pulling the files out of his briefcase he realized that he was missing several that he needed to have reviewed by the morning staff meeting. He glanced at his watch, realizing that at 1:30 in the afternoon without traffic he could make it to the office and back in less than twenty minutes.
Walking back upstairs he called out "I left a file at the office; I'll be back in less than half an hour."
Striding out the door, he put his cover under his arm, and pulled his keys from his pocket. Walking into the garage he paused, a smile gracing his lips. Leaving the SUV in the garage, he climbed into his vintage 1969 red Corvette. He backed out of the drive and turned down his street. He leaned over to fiddle with the radio as he passed a silver Lexus coming in the opposite direction. With the music playing he accelerated, easily shifting gears as the car cruised around the curve that would take him away from the cove of the lake the house sat on, and towards Columbia Pike and on to the office.
Having checked the house address twice, the Lexus turned into the driveway the Corvette had just left. A brown haired woman stepped out of the car, straightening her shirt before reaching into the car for her bag.
Standing on the porch, she wasn't sure what she should do. She should have just mailed the letter, she thought, instead of delivering it in person. But she had wanted to see Harmon. She wanted to see his life. Reaching into her large handbag for the envelope she had stuck in the latest book she was reading. She had finally decided she wasn't going to knock, just place it in the crack of the door, when the door opened.
"Senora Rabb." A heavy set Hispanic women with a bottle in hand called, a smile spreading across her face in greeting. Confused at the entire situation, the woman on the porch could barely make out the words 'harm… office… forgot…happy you… home." Every so often a "Senora Rabb" was thrown in for good measure. It was difficult to understand through the woman's deep accent and broken English." From somewhere in the house a cry could be heard. The women held out the bottle towards her, at Diane's blank look the women said "I go feed baby." The older Hispanic women turned and headed towards the stairs leaving the door wide open.
