Beer and Sympathy
Sequel to By the Book – Harm gets a question he never asked answered in a way he never expected. WARNING: Contains discussion of spanking of adults.
Thursday, 0850
Harm stepped off the elevator into the beehive of activity that was early morning at JAG. His coworkers buzzed around retrieving files, making and answering phone calls, and discussing ongoing cases. As he sat down at his desk, he suddenly realized that he didn't know what to work on. He was no longer involved in his main case – at least not as a lawyer. All he had left was cases that were all but wrapped up. He didn't even have any paperwork that needed to be filed. It felt odd to have nothing to do.
"Morning, Harm," Mac called cheerfully as she stuck her head in his door. He waved her in and she planted herself on the edge of his credenza. "So I realized last night after I left that you don't really have any active cases now that you're off the Landon case."
"Well," Harm said gloomily, "you realized it about twelve hours earlier than I did."
Mac opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Harm's phone. "Yes Tiner?...Ok, thank you." Harm hung up the phone and stood up. "The Admiral wants to see me," he explained as he walked out the door.
"Just you?" Mac asked.
"Just me," Harm shrugged and headed for the Admiral's office.
The door was open, but Harm knocked anyway. Admiral Chegwidden was on the phone, but waved Harm in and indicated that he should close the door and have a seat. Harm obeyed and waited nervously while the Admiral finished up his call. When he was finished, he stood up and walked to a small table near the door. "Coffee Commander?"
"Uh, no thank you, Sir."
The Admiral poured himself a cup of coffee and returned to his desk. As usual, it was tidy, but had its normal assortment of case folders. "So," he began after taking a sip, "you're off the Landon case. What else do you have on your plate?"
"Well, Sir," Harm said, sitting up a little straighter, "I actually don't have anything else on my plate." He proceeded to update the Admiral on the status of his remaining open cases.
"Sounds like you're starting with a clean slate," the Admiral answered with a significant look.
Harm let out a short laugh, "Yes Sir, I guess I am."
"Well, we'll fix that at the staff meeting in a few minutes. That's all for now."
"Yes Sir." Harm stood to leave, but Admiral Chegwidden stopped him.
"Commander, why don't you come over for dinner tonight?"
"Sir?" Harm asked, a little surprised at the sudden and unprecedented invitation. "What's the occasion?"
Chegwidden shrugged. "It's Thursday?"
Harm nodded. "I'd be honored Sir. What would you like me to bring?"
"How about you bring the beer?" the Admiral said with a smile.
Thursday, 1800
Harm followed his CO into the kitchen and deposited four bottles of a local microbrew and a basket of berries in the refrigerator. He opened the remaining two bottles and put one on the counter next to the Admiral who was now standing at the stove prodding something in a pan with a spatula.
"Smells good Sir," Harm said.
"Old family recipe," the Admiral answered. "Do you mind setting the table?"
As Harm put plates and silverware on the table, he took a moment to look around the Admiral's house. It wasn't the first time he'd been there, just the first time in a while. The last time he'd been to the house, the Admiral had thrown a party to introduce his friends to his daughter. Harm smiled to himself as he remembered his initial meeting with Francesca.
Dinner tasted even better than it smelled and the two men talked easily. It turned out they had a lot in common, in spite of their age difference.
"Let's take those berries out on the deck," the Admiral said as he walked out the kitchen door. Soon, he had a fire going in the fire pit and the two men were sitting under the stars, still sipping beer and enjoying berry shortcake.
Although they were only on their third beer each, the alcohol had seemed to loosen the Admiral's tongue. Harm sat and listened as his boss told him stories of his life as a SEAL, a law student and head of JAG in the Pacific Fleet. The Admiral hadn't always been the squared-away, tough-nosed commanding officer he was now. The stories he told Harm as the night went on made Harm realize more and more that the Admiral, much like himself, had an aversion to authority.
At the end of one particular story, Harm laughed and shook his head. "I don't know, Admiral, all I have to say is that it must be nice to be at the top of the food chain."
"Top of the food chain?" the Admiral said as he drained his final beer of the night.
"Yes Sir. Well, I just mean, it must be nice to break the occasional rule and disobey the occasional order and not worry about, well, you know."
The Admiral leaned forward and put a few more sticks on the fire. As the light flickered across his face, Harm saw a smile.
"You think just because I have the rank I have that I don't answer to anyone?" he said, sitting back in his Adirondack chair and staring up at the stars. "Well, in some ways, I suppose you're right. Then again, I don't think I've done anything since being appointed Judge Advocate General that would warrant the type of 'answering' to which you're referring."
"I rest my case Sir," Harm said with a laugh.
"So you and Mac are wondering when I had my last session with an angry CO, aren't you?"
Harm choked on his sip of beer. "Um, well, Sir, we uh…"
The Admiral laughed and handed Harm a napkin. "It was more recently than I think you'd expect," he said, settling back into his comfortable seat. "I took my share of spankings as a young officer – my first was within two weeks of graduating from the Academy. I disobeyed an order and my CO put me on restriction. When I stupidly complained, he introduced me to his paddle."
Harm's eyes widened. "You complained about a punishment Sir?"
"I said it was stupid," the Admiral laughed. "There were many more sessions with that particular paddle before he moved on. He reminded me exactly how many when I saw him at his retirement dinner a couple of years ago."
"That was nice of him Sir," Harm said with a laugh.
"Yes, well, I advanced up the ranks and no matter where I went, I always seemed to end up with the CO who still believed in and acted upon the old traditions. I am grateful, though. If it weren't for them, there's no way I'd be where I am now." The Admiral stared off into the fire and Harm knew he was remembering, fondly or otherwise, significant events from his past.
Harm let the Admiral reminisce for a moment, but his curiosity wasn't yet fully satisfied. "So Sir, when was the last time?" he finally asked. The beer had apparently boosted Harm's confidence as well.
The Admiral laughed again. "I think you'll be surprised," he said with a smile. "It was three days before I took my current post."
"Three days Sir?" Harm asked, shocked.
"Three days. I'd already moved here and was in the final stages of transition from my old post to my new one. I guess I was a little more, I don't know, excited? nervous? one of those, than I thought. I was so busy getting accustomed to my new position that I forgot I still had responsibilities in my old position. I missed a meeting, didn't file a report, and by the time I missed a conference call, my still-current CO decided I needed a reminder of my current position. The only problem was, he was in Guam and I was in Washington. So he called Rear Admiral Brovo. Well, Brovo was more than happy to offer his assistance in putting me in my place. At the end of each day of the last week of his command, he and I would meet in his office for a drink. That night, I turned up as usual, but instead of pouring me a drink, he bent me over his desk, took off his belt and laid into me. Then we had a conversation about how no one ever really gets up high enough that he has no one to answer to. Remember that when you're Judge Advocate General, Harm."
"Wow," was all Harm could say. Harm wasn't sure what had surprised him more: the story or the fact that Admiral Chegwidden had just told him that he thought enough of him to believe that one day, he would succeed him.
As soon as Harm was in his car on the way back to his apartment, he called Mac. "I've got the intel…"