Title: Back at the Beginning
Author: Nan
Rating: R
Classification: vignette, Harm/Mac, AJ
Spoilers: All episodes up to but not including Fortunate Son from Season 8
Summary: AJ and Mac worry about Harm and his latest TAD - (Note - I use Ted Lindsey as sort of a negative character in this story. In Fortunate Son, TPTB also did the same, I guess great minds think a like!
Thankyou - To Aerogirl. A truly great author with a warm and encouraging heart. I sent her my fiction 'out of the blue' and she not only edits but provides a running commentary. It is as much fun to read the corrections as it was to write the story. Thanks!
Admiral AJ Chegwidden was leaning back on his dark leather couch with his cast-encased foot resting on the coffee table. He was absently moving his left hand over the top of his head and then down towards his chin as he stared unfocused across the room. Yesterday, he had set a goal for himself. Before returning to JAG on Monday from convalescent leave, the fit-reps on his senior officers would be done.
So far, the task had been routine. Officers like Commander Sturgis Turner and Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie were exemplary in their work and their fitness reports reflected that. AJ believed in giving credit where credit was due and he was generous in his comments towards both officers.
Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr was a different matter. The tall aviator turned lawyer had been almost seven years under his command. And during that entire time, Harm's fit-reps reflected the kind of officer he was. With a couple of notable exceptions, AJ had always given the commander the highest rating possible. Anything less would have been seemed petty considering the substantial accomplishments the officer had achieved throughout the years.
But during his ten-day sick time, AJ had time to think about a growing issue regarding the commander. This issue was not new, but the terrorist attacks of 9/11 were creating a pressure that could no longer be ignored.
The issue was the commander's additional duty. Harm's official duty station was as a Navy lawyer at the Judge Advocate Generals office in Falls Church, Virginia. But Harm had also maintained his flight status as a fighter pilot and the Naval Air Warfare Center at Pax River often called on him for additional duty.
AJ thought back to the first time he met Harm. After spending less than five minutes with Harm, he knew he was the best talent that office had to offer. The inept leadership that preceded him was visible in most of the personnel. They were all competent at completing forms and pushing paper, but few had the passion that the new JAG was looking for. Commander Krennick was a skilled lawyer and a top administrator, but like many, her talents ended there. When Rabb had commandeered the zoomie-'s' Lear Jet en route to Cuba and had evaded two Cuban fighters, the admiral knew he had a man to be reckoned with. He was a man after his own heart.
He smiled. Those were idealistic days. He had entered his new position with all of the zeal of a first term congressman. He had wanted the Judge Advocate General's office to be a place where what they did had real value. A force within the larger organization of the Navy that would help to right the wrongs and weed out the weak.
AJ knew that he had accomplished at least some of his idealistic goals last year when Secretary of the Navy Nelson was fired. Not that AJ had wanted Nelson fired or even had planned for it. But when the Senate committee had found the old SecNav negligent for using JAG as his personal intelligence gathering organization instead of the CIA or even Naval Intelligence during the dirty nuke case, he knew had built JAG into the type of department he had always envisioned.
And if today's JAG was an outstanding organization within the Navy, then at least some of the credit for this could be laid at the feet of one Commander Harmon Rabb. First alone, then with his partner Sarah Mackenzie, Harm had his finger in almost every major accomplishment at JAG over the seven years. Harm was a leader. His willingness to put aside his own ambitions, or personal safety in order to pursue the truth of a case was an inspiration to many in the office.
Harm and Mac, it was hard for him to think of one without the other. Mac had blossomed under Harm's influence, shedding the final few insecurities that stood between her and real success. Their first case together involving Mac's uncle had built a foundation of trust between them that was nearly unbreakable. Well, unbreakable until Mic Brumby showed up. AJ grinned.
There was no doubt that much of the success at JAG could also be attributed to Mac as well as Harm, AJ thought. But today, he had to stay focused and remember the task at hand.
And the task at hand was sorting out Harm's official duty station and the obligations of his unofficial duty station. Lawyer versus fighter pilot. Two jobs that he performed with skill and excellence.
"Why are you sitting here in dwindling light? It is almost dusk. " Meredith came into with a small tray of cheese and crackers. She walked over to the side table lamp and switched it on.
"Just working on fit-reps," said AJ. He reached up and pulled her down on the couch beside him. She snuggled into crook under his arm. Wow, he thought, I can't believe how good this feels.
"It seems like you were just thinking. Since when did a performance review take so much thought?" she asked.
"When it comes to Rabb, nothing is easy," AJ smiled.
"Well, I never thought you had any doubts about his performance?"
"Yeah, he will get top evals on his report. He is good," said AJ. Too good for his own good, he thought. Can I explain this to her?
"So if that is the case, why all the heavy thinking?"
"Well, it's not about JAG. It's about his additional duty," AJ said.
"Additional duty?"
"You know that Harm is a fighter pilot, right?"
"Of course I do, how could I forget? You ejected out of his F-14 two weeks ago," smiled Meredith.
"Harm was a pilot long before he even thought of becoming a lawyer. Becoming a lawyer was only a stopgap measure for Harm after a catastrophic accident involving an F-14 and the unrelenting surface of an aircraft carrier on a tossing sea in the dark of night. A flight review board took away his active flight status. It was only then that he went back to school and studied law. Maybe dog fighting in the air and litigating in the courtroom are more closely related skills than it would seem, but what ever, Harm became a damn fine lawyer. But he never forgot the reason he joined the Navy in the first place. As time progressed he fought to get back into the air. He did it too, overcoming considerable odds." AJ paused, lost in thought.
"So he is flying and he is a lawyer. This isn't new and you haven't worried about it before." Meredith took some cheese from the wooden tray.
"That's true. I always felt he could handle it. And he does handle it. But they keep nudging up the heat a little."
Meredith looked at him. "They?"
"Pax River, Naval Air Warfare Center, NAVAIR, the CAGs on almost every carrier he visits. Just about anyone out there who has an F-14 to fly needs extra pilots since 9/11. And unfortunately, Harm has a good reputation." AJ twirled his fingers around a strand of her dark hair.
"Is the commander complaining about this extra duty?" Meredith still didn't get what the problem really was.
He snorted. "Rabb? Never. He never tells anyone no."
"Can he refuse to fly, if he didn't want to?"
"Yes. His primary duty station is still JAG. Most of his flying is done at his own discretion."
"I still don't get it. If he wants to fly and does a good job at that plus he maintains his performance at JAG, how is there a problem? Is his work slipping at JAG?"
"Nope, Whatever I give him, he always performs competently. And he maintains a caseload that is at the very least as much as the other lawyers in the office and sometimes more. There are only three other lawyers that can equal him in caseload. Bud, Sturgis and Mac." AJ looked over the top of her head to the other wall.
"You are worried about him?" Meredith crooked an eyebrow at him.
"Yeah, I guess," said AJ.
"Has this got something to do with your recent 'incident' in a F-14?"
"Maybe a bit. I mean, hell, I was sore flying around up there before I ejected. And I never saw the real work of flying. The g-forces, the arrested landings, the catapult - this all starts takes a toll. I knew this theoretically, but the flight and the ejection injected a little reality into my world."
"He seems okay with it all."
"Do you know that he has to maintain a rigorous exercise regime to stay qualified? I pride myself on keeping in shape. I run regularly and lift weights. But if my schedule gets hectic, I will drop the routine for a week or so. Harm can't allow himself that luxury or he may lose his flight status." AJ started to warm up to his topic. "Harm mostly flies in the evening or at night or on the weekend. Primarily, so it doesn't interfere with his day job. Between JAG and Pax River, he goes weeks without a day off."
AJ sat in silence. Meredith watched as he continued to turn the issue over in his mind.
"Look, I am worried that the only way he is going to stop this lifestyle is if he is forced to. And I don't want that to be a catastrophic accident."
"You are worried something might happen to him."
"Yes." AJ looked at her. You understand, he thought. But now what do I do?
Meredith smiled at him. "From where I sit, it always seems that you take some sort of verbal sledgehammer to Harm when you want to get your point across."
"Well, the man is target fixated. Once he is on a course, it is hard to distract him. I've discovered over the years that "Please, Harm, would you be so kind," is an approach that will probably not get much of a result."
"So I take it that you don't think this approach will work for this problem, either?" Meredith said.
"Well, if he was actually doing something wrong, or his work was slipping or something, I would have something to work with. This is different," AJ said.
"Because flying is so important to him?"
"Yeah," AJ sighed. He knew getting Rabb out of the sky would be painful, one-way or the other. Harm would die first before giving up flying. And unfortunately, that was the very thing AJ was afraid of.
#
It was a little before 6 o'clock pm civilian time and Sarah Mackenzie was tired. It had been a long day in court. She and Harm had squared off in court at 0900 this morning on a DDO case. Harm had put up a creative defense but the cards and the evidence were stacked against him. Mac had the satisfaction of putting a mental notch in the plus column. She knew she shouldn't be keeping a running tab of wins and losses against Harm but old habits die hard.
She had another reason to smile. She had convinced Harm it was her turn to cook dinner tonight. She remembered teasing him about being a control-freak during their escapades in Afghanistan, and his obsession with cooking was just another example. Not that she didn't love the atmosphere in his loft, his music, and his way of taking a few veggies and some pasta and creating a great meal, but this being Harm, she knew he needed the tables turned every so often. And she had scoured the cookbooks looking for just the right recipe for this night. She was going to score big. Okay, not in the way you might think but other victories are almost as sweet, she mused.
"See you at 1900?" she said as she rounded the turn into his office. She watched as he shut down his computer and threw a few files into a briefcase.
"Looking forward to it," said Harm. He flashed her a smile just a millisecond late and Sarah wondered if something was wrong. She mentally reviewed the day. Was there something she had missed?
"I'll bring dessert, okay?"
Mac came out of her reverie. "Dessert? No, got that covered too, flyboy. Just bring your appetite and prepare to be amazed."
He rolled his eyes but this time his smile was quick and genuine. He followed her out of the office and together they walked to their respective cars.
#
Harm reached over the counter to where she was cutting vegetables and snagged stray carrot. "You are right, Mac, this is an amazing meal," he teased.
"Give me a couple more minutes. At least give me a chance to put it on the table before you comment."
Harm wandered over to her couch and sat down. She had a fire going in the fireplace and Norah Jones playing on the CD player. God, Harm thought to himself, there was something about Mac's apartment that made him feel like a 10-year-old sneaking into his sister's bedroom. Maybe it was elegant furniture and the decidedly female knick-knacks around the room. Whatever, he resolved to get the next dinner back at his loft.
Maybe it was because he was tired that he felt susceptible to her beauty and charm. He was usually good at putting his feelings for Mac in a box and dealing with her as just a friend. He leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of cutlery in the kitchen.
He awoke suddenly. Harm was instantly aware that Mac's apartment was dark, his casual deck shoes were off and someone had thrown a blanket over him. Not someone, Mac. He groaned and looked at his watch - 23:36. He had fallen asleep on her couch. He shut his eyes and groaned again. What had happened to dinner?
Now what? He could wake her, apologize and slink with his tail between his legs and go home. He got up and started to look around for his shoes.
"Hey Rip Van Winkle. I put your shoes on the hearth of the fireplace, Harm." Mac clicked on a light. She had on a pair of flowered flannel PJ's. He didn't know what it was with Mac and flannel PJ's but whatever, they were starting to figure prominently in his erotic dreams. She was smiling at him.
"What happened? Mac, I am truly sorry." The more Harm talked, the more he felt like a complete idiot.
"Are you hungry?"
He looked at her, not sure how to take the question. "Well," he quirked. "I haven't had dinner, so, yeah, I guess I am."
"This still should be pretty good. I'll heat it up in the microwave." Mac took a casserole dish out of the fridge.
Harm looked at Mac warily. Being nice to him wasn't how he thought she would react. "Mac, why didn't you wake me?"
"To be honest, at first I tried to be a little insulted and maybe I should have sent you packing, Harm. But you looked tired all day today. I didn't have the heart. You have been moon lighting again?"
Harm took the steaming plate from her. He still felt embarrassed.
"Harm, how much flying did you do on the weekend?" asked Mac.
"Flying?"
"Yeah, you know, flying for PAX River. You know, NAVAIR, AIRLANT or whomever?" Mac studied his face as he started to eat.
"This weekend was NAVAIR. I put in a few hours," Harm hesitated, knowing that he didn't want to tell her the full story.
" More than a few. I saw this morning that you signed in at 0400. You didn't have enough time to prepare for our court case over the weekend, right? So, you came in early and did the work then."
Now he knew where this conversation was going. "Okay, okay, I spent the weekend at NAVAIR. Flight tests took more time than originally thought."
"And you were wondering why I didn't wake you. I had a feeling you had a busy weekend," Mac said. "How's the pasta?"
Harm smile was rueful. "I like it. And you don't need to remind me that it was better before the microwave sucked the life out. Maybe I could get a rain check for another night?"
"Sure. How about Thursday?"
Thursday. Shit. Harm knew the answer to that one. "Ah, well, I have to go out to a carrier Thurday night. I have my six month quals."
Mac was silent. Then, "Okay, well, let me know when you have some time, Harm." She turned from him and picked up the dirty dishes. She walked over to the sink and started to rinse them off. She felt his presence behind her.
"Mac, I'm sorry about how this turned out. I was really looking forward to this evening. Can we get together a week from today?"
"Sure, it's a date. If you are still tired, I don't mind if you camp out it in my spare room. For tonight anyway."
"You mean the room with the twin-sized bed that you keep for Chloe? I'll be shoving my feet against that fancy footboard all night. I'll need to go home to my place," Harm said. His eyes followed her movements in the kitchen. Why, why, why can't I ever string the right words together? Maybe then, he would be sleeping in the queen size bed in the main bedroom with his arms wrapped around her.
Harm sighed. "I'd better get going so you can get some sleep."
Author: Nan
Rating: R
Classification: vignette, Harm/Mac, AJ
Spoilers: All episodes up to but not including Fortunate Son from Season 8
Summary: AJ and Mac worry about Harm and his latest TAD - (Note - I use Ted Lindsey as sort of a negative character in this story. In Fortunate Son, TPTB also did the same, I guess great minds think a like!
Thankyou - To Aerogirl. A truly great author with a warm and encouraging heart. I sent her my fiction 'out of the blue' and she not only edits but provides a running commentary. It is as much fun to read the corrections as it was to write the story. Thanks!
Admiral AJ Chegwidden was leaning back on his dark leather couch with his cast-encased foot resting on the coffee table. He was absently moving his left hand over the top of his head and then down towards his chin as he stared unfocused across the room. Yesterday, he had set a goal for himself. Before returning to JAG on Monday from convalescent leave, the fit-reps on his senior officers would be done.
So far, the task had been routine. Officers like Commander Sturgis Turner and Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie were exemplary in their work and their fitness reports reflected that. AJ believed in giving credit where credit was due and he was generous in his comments towards both officers.
Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr was a different matter. The tall aviator turned lawyer had been almost seven years under his command. And during that entire time, Harm's fit-reps reflected the kind of officer he was. With a couple of notable exceptions, AJ had always given the commander the highest rating possible. Anything less would have been seemed petty considering the substantial accomplishments the officer had achieved throughout the years.
But during his ten-day sick time, AJ had time to think about a growing issue regarding the commander. This issue was not new, but the terrorist attacks of 9/11 were creating a pressure that could no longer be ignored.
The issue was the commander's additional duty. Harm's official duty station was as a Navy lawyer at the Judge Advocate Generals office in Falls Church, Virginia. But Harm had also maintained his flight status as a fighter pilot and the Naval Air Warfare Center at Pax River often called on him for additional duty.
AJ thought back to the first time he met Harm. After spending less than five minutes with Harm, he knew he was the best talent that office had to offer. The inept leadership that preceded him was visible in most of the personnel. They were all competent at completing forms and pushing paper, but few had the passion that the new JAG was looking for. Commander Krennick was a skilled lawyer and a top administrator, but like many, her talents ended there. When Rabb had commandeered the zoomie-'s' Lear Jet en route to Cuba and had evaded two Cuban fighters, the admiral knew he had a man to be reckoned with. He was a man after his own heart.
He smiled. Those were idealistic days. He had entered his new position with all of the zeal of a first term congressman. He had wanted the Judge Advocate General's office to be a place where what they did had real value. A force within the larger organization of the Navy that would help to right the wrongs and weed out the weak.
AJ knew that he had accomplished at least some of his idealistic goals last year when Secretary of the Navy Nelson was fired. Not that AJ had wanted Nelson fired or even had planned for it. But when the Senate committee had found the old SecNav negligent for using JAG as his personal intelligence gathering organization instead of the CIA or even Naval Intelligence during the dirty nuke case, he knew had built JAG into the type of department he had always envisioned.
And if today's JAG was an outstanding organization within the Navy, then at least some of the credit for this could be laid at the feet of one Commander Harmon Rabb. First alone, then with his partner Sarah Mackenzie, Harm had his finger in almost every major accomplishment at JAG over the seven years. Harm was a leader. His willingness to put aside his own ambitions, or personal safety in order to pursue the truth of a case was an inspiration to many in the office.
Harm and Mac, it was hard for him to think of one without the other. Mac had blossomed under Harm's influence, shedding the final few insecurities that stood between her and real success. Their first case together involving Mac's uncle had built a foundation of trust between them that was nearly unbreakable. Well, unbreakable until Mic Brumby showed up. AJ grinned.
There was no doubt that much of the success at JAG could also be attributed to Mac as well as Harm, AJ thought. But today, he had to stay focused and remember the task at hand.
And the task at hand was sorting out Harm's official duty station and the obligations of his unofficial duty station. Lawyer versus fighter pilot. Two jobs that he performed with skill and excellence.
"Why are you sitting here in dwindling light? It is almost dusk. " Meredith came into with a small tray of cheese and crackers. She walked over to the side table lamp and switched it on.
"Just working on fit-reps," said AJ. He reached up and pulled her down on the couch beside him. She snuggled into crook under his arm. Wow, he thought, I can't believe how good this feels.
"It seems like you were just thinking. Since when did a performance review take so much thought?" she asked.
"When it comes to Rabb, nothing is easy," AJ smiled.
"Well, I never thought you had any doubts about his performance?"
"Yeah, he will get top evals on his report. He is good," said AJ. Too good for his own good, he thought. Can I explain this to her?
"So if that is the case, why all the heavy thinking?"
"Well, it's not about JAG. It's about his additional duty," AJ said.
"Additional duty?"
"You know that Harm is a fighter pilot, right?"
"Of course I do, how could I forget? You ejected out of his F-14 two weeks ago," smiled Meredith.
"Harm was a pilot long before he even thought of becoming a lawyer. Becoming a lawyer was only a stopgap measure for Harm after a catastrophic accident involving an F-14 and the unrelenting surface of an aircraft carrier on a tossing sea in the dark of night. A flight review board took away his active flight status. It was only then that he went back to school and studied law. Maybe dog fighting in the air and litigating in the courtroom are more closely related skills than it would seem, but what ever, Harm became a damn fine lawyer. But he never forgot the reason he joined the Navy in the first place. As time progressed he fought to get back into the air. He did it too, overcoming considerable odds." AJ paused, lost in thought.
"So he is flying and he is a lawyer. This isn't new and you haven't worried about it before." Meredith took some cheese from the wooden tray.
"That's true. I always felt he could handle it. And he does handle it. But they keep nudging up the heat a little."
Meredith looked at him. "They?"
"Pax River, Naval Air Warfare Center, NAVAIR, the CAGs on almost every carrier he visits. Just about anyone out there who has an F-14 to fly needs extra pilots since 9/11. And unfortunately, Harm has a good reputation." AJ twirled his fingers around a strand of her dark hair.
"Is the commander complaining about this extra duty?" Meredith still didn't get what the problem really was.
He snorted. "Rabb? Never. He never tells anyone no."
"Can he refuse to fly, if he didn't want to?"
"Yes. His primary duty station is still JAG. Most of his flying is done at his own discretion."
"I still don't get it. If he wants to fly and does a good job at that plus he maintains his performance at JAG, how is there a problem? Is his work slipping at JAG?"
"Nope, Whatever I give him, he always performs competently. And he maintains a caseload that is at the very least as much as the other lawyers in the office and sometimes more. There are only three other lawyers that can equal him in caseload. Bud, Sturgis and Mac." AJ looked over the top of her head to the other wall.
"You are worried about him?" Meredith crooked an eyebrow at him.
"Yeah, I guess," said AJ.
"Has this got something to do with your recent 'incident' in a F-14?"
"Maybe a bit. I mean, hell, I was sore flying around up there before I ejected. And I never saw the real work of flying. The g-forces, the arrested landings, the catapult - this all starts takes a toll. I knew this theoretically, but the flight and the ejection injected a little reality into my world."
"He seems okay with it all."
"Do you know that he has to maintain a rigorous exercise regime to stay qualified? I pride myself on keeping in shape. I run regularly and lift weights. But if my schedule gets hectic, I will drop the routine for a week or so. Harm can't allow himself that luxury or he may lose his flight status." AJ started to warm up to his topic. "Harm mostly flies in the evening or at night or on the weekend. Primarily, so it doesn't interfere with his day job. Between JAG and Pax River, he goes weeks without a day off."
AJ sat in silence. Meredith watched as he continued to turn the issue over in his mind.
"Look, I am worried that the only way he is going to stop this lifestyle is if he is forced to. And I don't want that to be a catastrophic accident."
"You are worried something might happen to him."
"Yes." AJ looked at her. You understand, he thought. But now what do I do?
Meredith smiled at him. "From where I sit, it always seems that you take some sort of verbal sledgehammer to Harm when you want to get your point across."
"Well, the man is target fixated. Once he is on a course, it is hard to distract him. I've discovered over the years that "Please, Harm, would you be so kind," is an approach that will probably not get much of a result."
"So I take it that you don't think this approach will work for this problem, either?" Meredith said.
"Well, if he was actually doing something wrong, or his work was slipping or something, I would have something to work with. This is different," AJ said.
"Because flying is so important to him?"
"Yeah," AJ sighed. He knew getting Rabb out of the sky would be painful, one-way or the other. Harm would die first before giving up flying. And unfortunately, that was the very thing AJ was afraid of.
#
It was a little before 6 o'clock pm civilian time and Sarah Mackenzie was tired. It had been a long day in court. She and Harm had squared off in court at 0900 this morning on a DDO case. Harm had put up a creative defense but the cards and the evidence were stacked against him. Mac had the satisfaction of putting a mental notch in the plus column. She knew she shouldn't be keeping a running tab of wins and losses against Harm but old habits die hard.
She had another reason to smile. She had convinced Harm it was her turn to cook dinner tonight. She remembered teasing him about being a control-freak during their escapades in Afghanistan, and his obsession with cooking was just another example. Not that she didn't love the atmosphere in his loft, his music, and his way of taking a few veggies and some pasta and creating a great meal, but this being Harm, she knew he needed the tables turned every so often. And she had scoured the cookbooks looking for just the right recipe for this night. She was going to score big. Okay, not in the way you might think but other victories are almost as sweet, she mused.
"See you at 1900?" she said as she rounded the turn into his office. She watched as he shut down his computer and threw a few files into a briefcase.
"Looking forward to it," said Harm. He flashed her a smile just a millisecond late and Sarah wondered if something was wrong. She mentally reviewed the day. Was there something she had missed?
"I'll bring dessert, okay?"
Mac came out of her reverie. "Dessert? No, got that covered too, flyboy. Just bring your appetite and prepare to be amazed."
He rolled his eyes but this time his smile was quick and genuine. He followed her out of the office and together they walked to their respective cars.
#
Harm reached over the counter to where she was cutting vegetables and snagged stray carrot. "You are right, Mac, this is an amazing meal," he teased.
"Give me a couple more minutes. At least give me a chance to put it on the table before you comment."
Harm wandered over to her couch and sat down. She had a fire going in the fireplace and Norah Jones playing on the CD player. God, Harm thought to himself, there was something about Mac's apartment that made him feel like a 10-year-old sneaking into his sister's bedroom. Maybe it was elegant furniture and the decidedly female knick-knacks around the room. Whatever, he resolved to get the next dinner back at his loft.
Maybe it was because he was tired that he felt susceptible to her beauty and charm. He was usually good at putting his feelings for Mac in a box and dealing with her as just a friend. He leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of cutlery in the kitchen.
He awoke suddenly. Harm was instantly aware that Mac's apartment was dark, his casual deck shoes were off and someone had thrown a blanket over him. Not someone, Mac. He groaned and looked at his watch - 23:36. He had fallen asleep on her couch. He shut his eyes and groaned again. What had happened to dinner?
Now what? He could wake her, apologize and slink with his tail between his legs and go home. He got up and started to look around for his shoes.
"Hey Rip Van Winkle. I put your shoes on the hearth of the fireplace, Harm." Mac clicked on a light. She had on a pair of flowered flannel PJ's. He didn't know what it was with Mac and flannel PJ's but whatever, they were starting to figure prominently in his erotic dreams. She was smiling at him.
"What happened? Mac, I am truly sorry." The more Harm talked, the more he felt like a complete idiot.
"Are you hungry?"
He looked at her, not sure how to take the question. "Well," he quirked. "I haven't had dinner, so, yeah, I guess I am."
"This still should be pretty good. I'll heat it up in the microwave." Mac took a casserole dish out of the fridge.
Harm looked at Mac warily. Being nice to him wasn't how he thought she would react. "Mac, why didn't you wake me?"
"To be honest, at first I tried to be a little insulted and maybe I should have sent you packing, Harm. But you looked tired all day today. I didn't have the heart. You have been moon lighting again?"
Harm took the steaming plate from her. He still felt embarrassed.
"Harm, how much flying did you do on the weekend?" asked Mac.
"Flying?"
"Yeah, you know, flying for PAX River. You know, NAVAIR, AIRLANT or whomever?" Mac studied his face as he started to eat.
"This weekend was NAVAIR. I put in a few hours," Harm hesitated, knowing that he didn't want to tell her the full story.
" More than a few. I saw this morning that you signed in at 0400. You didn't have enough time to prepare for our court case over the weekend, right? So, you came in early and did the work then."
Now he knew where this conversation was going. "Okay, okay, I spent the weekend at NAVAIR. Flight tests took more time than originally thought."
"And you were wondering why I didn't wake you. I had a feeling you had a busy weekend," Mac said. "How's the pasta?"
Harm smile was rueful. "I like it. And you don't need to remind me that it was better before the microwave sucked the life out. Maybe I could get a rain check for another night?"
"Sure. How about Thursday?"
Thursday. Shit. Harm knew the answer to that one. "Ah, well, I have to go out to a carrier Thurday night. I have my six month quals."
Mac was silent. Then, "Okay, well, let me know when you have some time, Harm." She turned from him and picked up the dirty dishes. She walked over to the sink and started to rinse them off. She felt his presence behind her.
"Mac, I'm sorry about how this turned out. I was really looking forward to this evening. Can we get together a week from today?"
"Sure, it's a date. If you are still tired, I don't mind if you camp out it in my spare room. For tonight anyway."
"You mean the room with the twin-sized bed that you keep for Chloe? I'll be shoving my feet against that fancy footboard all night. I'll need to go home to my place," Harm said. His eyes followed her movements in the kitchen. Why, why, why can't I ever string the right words together? Maybe then, he would be sleeping in the queen size bed in the main bedroom with his arms wrapped around her.
Harm sighed. "I'd better get going so you can get some sleep."