Disclaimer: Jag and all its characters belong to someone else. I just invited them to play in my sandbox today.
A/N: If you haven't read my stories before, here are a couple of must knows: 1. I rate everything M for language and suggestive themes. 2. I'm anti-canon. Sometimes I write things that are an adapted story, behind the scenes story or pick up from a story but generally they are nothing like the story. If I wanted to follow the story line as it was on TV I wouldn't be writing fan fiction.
I didn't have anyone beta this ... I read it about 15 times, so any mistakes you find are all mine. This is my first JAG fic, but its neutral so my non JAG fans can read it and enjoy. Please review, I like reviews and I don't take things personally.
A/N: The following you are about to read is true … the characters and the details have been adapted so you can see it through Harm and Mattie's eyes. This story is just one of the chronicles of my childhood friend and his adjustment from a commitment-phobe all about me never been around kids before freak to a single dad of two teenage girls. When he told me this story I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. I hope you laugh too.
Summary: Ever have one of those bad days that just won't stop? Welcome to a day in my life.
It just doesn't let up!
"This hearing is adjourned!"
The crack of the gavel making contact with the desk jolted Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. in his shoes. It solidified his concession of defeat, not that he could have swayed the inquiry a different way. The Article 32 hearing on Driving under the Influence was cut and dried, so a plea bargain was the only saving grace for the young sailor. It was just who he lost to that bothered Rabb so much.
"Commander," Major McBurney said extending his hand. "Better luck next time."
Rabb shook McBurney's hand out of respect. "Yeah, thanks," he mumbled turning back to the table. He looked over his shoulder to watch his client being lead away by the M.P's and shook his head. Unbelievable, he thought to himself. I should have called in sick today. First Chedwiggen friggen yells at me for something I'm not even convinced I had anything to do with and then informs me that I have to cover all of Turner's cases while he's out playing investigator and then conveniently enough fails to tell me that McBurney was prosecuting this DUI, Rabb recounted in his head. Pompous ass! And I don't just mean McBurney either!
He threw the case file into his briefcase, clapped the lid down and fasteners shut. He walked out of the empty court room and caught sight of Major McBurney at the elevator talking to Commander Coleman. The memory of his short lived court martial for Lieutenant Singer's murder flashed through his mind and he felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. Sure, the charges were dropped, but the stinger was still stuck in his vein. If it hadn't been for Gibbs and DiNizzo over at NCIS, his ass would have been fried up and served to the carnivore McBurney.
"I think I'll take the stairs," Rabb mumbled to himself as he diverted his feet from the elevator toward the end of the hall. It wasn't just a chance meeting with the two attorneys. He saw them everyday, so one would think he would have gotten used to it by now. LCDR Coleman was transferred to the Falls Church JAG office permanently after the Singer trial. Major McBurney was reassigned after Rabb had left JAG to rescue Mac in Paraguay. Never the less, just the sight of the two giggling by the elevator and the unexpected battle with him in the court room gave Harm an upset stomach.
Taking the stairs got Rabb to the bull pen only a few seconds ahead of his favorite coworkers, but more importantly it gave him some time to clear his head. He looked at his watch to check the time as he hit the landing and made a mental note of how the rest of the day was going to go. Mattie'll be home from volleyball in an hour, he thought walking toward the bull pen and the hallway that led back to his office. I walked her through the instructions for dinner this morning. He checked the time again absent-mindly. If I leave in thirty minutes, with traffic, I'll get home just when the lasagna is ready to come out of the oven.
"Commander?"
Harm focused his eyes on the voice in front of him and spotting PO Jose Garcia coming toward him with a file and a pen. That's a dangerous combination, he thought as he slowed his pace for PO Garcia to catch up.
"Could you sign off on these, sir?" PO Garcia asked him.
"Sure Garcia," Rabb muttered as he juggled his briefcase to free a hand. "Hey, have you seen Colonel Mackenzie?"
"Not out of court Sir," the Petty Officer replied handing Rabb another file for signature. "They recessed for fifteen about an hour ago."
"The Admiral?"
"In his office," Garcia answered. "He's ummm in a mood sir," he added barely audible.
"Why does that not surprise me?" Harm replied handing the last file back to Garcia. Before he could say another word McBurney called out to him from hallway.
"You took the stairs Commander?" McBurney asked him on the way to his main floor office.
"Yeah, you should try it sometime Major," Rabb smarted back to the young attorney. "It keeps the blood pumping, keeps your mind fresh."
"So does a five mile run first thing in the morning," McBurney fired back. "But I'll keep that in mind as I get older." McBurney laughed mockingly and walked into his office.
"Ha ha," Rabb laughed sarcastically. He looked back toward PO Garcia and rolled his eyes.
"It's that Jarhead mentality sir," Garcia offered as he watched the Major showboat around on his way to his office. "He needs to flaunt it to make up for his other inadequacies."
Rabb chuckled at the Petty Officer's commentary. "I'll give you that Garcia, just as long as you have my back when I end up in front of the firing squad."
"Always sir," Garcia replied with a smile. "I'm an ace on the range."
Harm nodded and headed toward his windowless office at the end of the hall. He walked into the small room and shut the door behind him, seeking solace from the office politics. When he first came back to JAG, he was annoyed the Admiral hadn't given him his office back. Now that the up-and-coming attorneys held the main floor positions, he relished the thought of being hidden away in the back hallway. He was safe from the fishbowl effect of the glass walled offices and left to his own devices in his quiet little corner. Only Garcia, Coates, Turner, Bud and Mac dared to venture into his closet.
He sat down at his computer and attempted to quickly finish his case disposition report. All good intentions aside, his half hour window disappeared quickly filled with a half hearted attempted at his report and an extended phone conversation with Bud. Rabb was staring blankly at his computer screen when he heard a knock on the door.
"Enter."
"The Admiral is looking for your disposition report sir," Garcia said as he popped his head around the corner.
"Ahh, I don't have it," Rabb answered looking up at the Petty Officer standing in front of his desk.
"You don't have because you turned it into to Coates already?" Garcia asked with a hopefully tone to his voice.
Rabb shook his head. "No, I don't … I didn't finish it yet. I just got outta court thirty minutes ago." He shrugged his shoulders and waved at his computer in frustration.
"I told you he was in a mood sir. Want me to write it?" Garcia volunteered. "I type faster than you."
"There's only one problem with that Garcia, you weren't in court with me," Rabb replied ruefully. If the solution could be so easy, he mused.
"Well luckily for you, I got a bootleg copy of the court transcripts," Garcia replied handing the file folder he was holding to Rabb.
Rabb chuckled as he took the file and quickly paged through the contents. "I don't even want to know how you got this Garcia," he mumbled as he pushed back from the desk.
"She's civilian sir," Garcia began.
Harm held up his hand. "Stop! I said I don't want to know. Just type… I'll dictate." He stood up from his chair and moved out of the way so Garcia could settle in. With Garcia's lightening fast fingers, the disposition report was done in a matter of minutes. Rabb walked over to the printer to pick up the report just as Colonel Mackenzie stepped into the small office.
"Hey," she said when he saw Rabb standing there. "Commander," she added when she noticed the Petty Officer standing behind the Commander's desk.
"Hey yourself," Rabb replied. He had mixed feelings about seeing her. The site of her made him happy, but the timing wasn't right. He didn't want her to think that he was schluping his work off on Garcia just to get out early. Because that's exactly what I'm doing, he thought as skimmed the report for typos. He handed the report and the file to Garcia who had made his way around the desk. "This should suffice with the Admiral," he said arching his eyebrows at Garcia with an expression that said don't let the cat out of the bag. "That'll be all, Garcia."
"Aye aye sir," Garcia acknowledged and made his way out the door.
Mac watched Garcia leave the small office and then looked at Rabb. "Garcia typing your reports now?" she questioned with a smirk on her face.
Man, she doesn't miss anything, Rabb shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly. "No, he just types faster than me. He was smoothing over the rough spots. Did you know he has his bachelor's in English?" Harm looked in her direction with his own sly grin. "How was court?" he asked changing the subject.
"Continued. And yours?"
"Over."
"Already? What was it continued?"
"No it's over. Plead out," Harm replied flatly pulling on his coat.
"You copped a plea? Sturgis thought he could get the guy off!" Mac said staring directly through him with those damned brown eyes.
"Oh come on Mac," Rabb blurted out. "The guy was guilty. It was a no brainer! I can't even believe Sturgis took it to an Article 32. It should have gone straight to the hearing officer." I can't believe she's questioning me about this! He thought as he stared at her. Mac of all people!
"Harm, did you even try to argue his case?"
"You're going to question me on how I ran the case!" Harm looked at her in disbelief. "If you thought it was worth winning, maybe you should have picked up this one for Sturgis. Did you even read the case file?"
"I skimmed it. He was on medication," she started, but Harm quickly cut her off.
Rabb could feel the hair on the back of his neck start to stand on end again. He wasn't in the mood for a fight. "Mac, his defense was that he drank a bottle of Nyquil before the accident. However, his blood alcohol was three times the legal limit which means that he didn't just drink one bottle, it was more like ten," Rabb replied tersely. He snapped the locks down on his briefcase and picked up his cover. "It wasn't his first DUI and it probably isn't going to be his last. So, in my opinion, the plea agreement McSmug offered was more than he deserved."
"McSmug?" Mac commented blocking the door. She tilted her head quizzically. "So are you mad because you had compromise with a plea or because you lost to McBurney?" She crossed her arms at her chest and gave him that look that silently said "you're busted mister."
Strike two, Rabb thought trying to regroup. "This isn't personal Mac, it's just all in a days work in the courtroom," he replied flatly.
"Really? Because based on the way you act around the guy everyone in the building thinks it personal," she taunted him. "McSmug … that's what you call him right?"
"That's one name for him," Rabb said a little more defensively. "I can think of about five more …pompous, arrogant, ass, jerk, idiot, prig…"
"Prigg and smug are the same word," she pointed out to him. "They mean the same thing. The definition of prigg is smug," she added when he gave her a crazed look.
"Just reiterating," Rabb said coolly.
"You know Harm, all those words describe you sometimes," Mac chuckled at the irony.
"You think I'm pompous, arrogant, an idiot and an ass?"
"Sometimes."
"We're back to that now?" Harm asked her as a flashback from Paraguay slipped into his thoughts. The memory of her words caused his nerves to stiffen and he suddenly felt suffocated in the small room. "Well that's great Mac … why you go back to your fishbowl on the main floor of the bullpen and get all cozy with McSmug. You Marine type like to stick together don't you?" Rabb said pulling on his overcoat. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going home to have a quiet dinner with m daughter."
He didn't give her time to react, instead he quickly exited the small office and headed straight for the fire exit at the end of the hall.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
The evening rush hour did nothing to calm his already frazzled nerves. Somewhere between the Admiral yelling at him, having to deal with McBurney and Mac questioning his client commitment his day went from routine to rotten. Maybe coming back to work at JAG wasn't such a good idea, he contemplated as he weaved through traffic. Crop dusting was a lot less stressful and hassle free. I could have helped Mattie with her business and … he bit his lip thoughtfully as he remembered the conversation with her regarding her father. She hadn't heard from him in weeks. In fact, no one had seen him in months. Rabb even had Agent DiNizzo from NCIS run a skip trace on him and found no footprint of him on the grid for nearly a year. He had just disappeared off the face of the earth. Unless he was some john doe at the country morgue, Rabb reflected as he slowed his corvette in traffic.
The sound of an approaching fire engine shook Rabb from his thoughts and he craned his head to see what was going in front of his lane of traffic. "Great," he muttered aloud to no one. "A friggen accident." He pulled his cell phone out of his coat pocket and speed dialed his home number. The phone rang five times and then went to the answering machine.
"Hey Mattie, it's Harm," he said hesitantly trying to figure out why she hadn't picked up. "I'm on my way home, but I'm stuck in traffic. Looks like an accident ahead of me. Guess I'll be delayed." He pushed the end button and then searched through the directory for Coates' apartment number. He dialed the number and then listened to it ring and finally go to voice mail. He hung up before leaving a message.
Harm tossed the phone on the passenger seat and stared blankly out the windshield. Where the heck is she? he wondered as the red emergency lights hypnotized him. Maybe she just went down to do the laundry, or was in the head, he rationalized. He glanced over at the phone next to him on the passenger seat. Did I take it off vibrate? he thought flipping it open to see if it was working. He shook his head and threw the phone back on the seat. As he did, something caught his eye on the floor and he leaned over to pick it up.
"Robben Ford," Harm mumbled as he fingered the CD case he retrieved from under the seat. Ford was one of Harm's favorite guitar artists and he had bought the new release for Mattie as they forged their bond for good music. He flipped open the case and pulled the CD from it. He pushed the disc into the player. As the music started to play he adjusted the bass and volume levels and then sat back and let the sounds of the blues guitarist envelope him. He quickly patted out the beat on the steering wheel and sang along with the lyrics letting his stress filter out the vents, nearly forgetting about his horrible day.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Rabb wheeled the corvette into his assigned parking spot in the parking lot near his building and looked at his watch. Oh, that only took me ninety seven minutes, he grumbled silently staring at the time. Hope dinner isn't burnt. He ejected the Robben Ford CD, put in back in the case and grabbed his briefcase. He crawled out of the car and reached back in to pick up his cover when he heard a voice behind him.
"Hey Rabb," the male voice called out.
Harm stood up and turned to see his downstairs neighbor Beck Stoner walking in his direction. He was a reformed addict and counselor at a substance abuse clinic by day, a drummer of a blues band at night. The man was the epitome of his name, long hair, baggy worn jeans, graffiti T-shirt, and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, he looked like a roadie for the Dead Heads.
"Hey, Stoner," Rabb greeted him. "Gotta gig tonight?"
"Yeah, we're playing at The Bench," he replied taking a final drag on his cigarette before tossing it away. He fished his keys out of his pocket and walked over to his car, which was parked right next to Rabb's corvette. "Hey Rabb, I don't mean to complain … and you know I'm all about playing great music really loud… but that crap that has been coming out of your apartment for the past three hours is anything but!"
Rabb pursued his lips and darted his eyes around the parking lot as Stoner's words sunk in. "My apartment?" he blurted out unconsciously.
"Yeah," Stoner continued. "You need to school that kid of yours on the finer points of good music and tell her to throw that Meatloaf trash in the incinerator. A sane man can only hear Paradise by the Dashboard Light so many times in his life." Stoner climbed in his car, started the engine and pulled out of the lot leaving Harm standing by his car still stunned by his neighbor's revelation.
After a minute he finally found his legs and starting walking toward the building. Three hours? How has she been home for three hours? That would mean… that she skipped volleyball again," he concluded as he walked toward the end of the block.
The muffled sound of music began to filter into the air as he came up on the corner. When he was finally at the intersection he came to a complete stop and stared up at the building.
"Geezus!" he muttered under his breath. "I'm surprised no one called the cops!" he commented aloud. Loud didn't quite describe the noise coming from his apartment. He crossed the street quickly and headed for the side entranced to the building.
As soon as he pulled the door open, the music blasted him like a wave pounding the beach. The over-amplified sounds of Creed reverberated through the building and deafened his eardrums.
Either no one is home in the building or I have the most tolerant neighbors in the world, Harm thought as he opted for the stairs and took them by two making his way up to his floor. She's fricken dead! he cursed as he slammed through the stairwell exit and ran to his apartment door. Harm found the door unlocked and he darted through it quickly skidding to a stop in front of the blaring stereo. He scanned the room for Mattie before he silenced the hideous sound. He found her sitting on the couch, head down reading one of her textbooks, oblivious that he had even entered the room. He hit the power button and the music came to an abrupt end.
Mattie's head snapped up and she looked directly at him. "Hey," she started to say but he cut her off before she could continue.
"Mattie, I know you're making the adjustment between living in the middle of nowhere and the middle of a city," he said calmly like he was addressing the members of the court. "But you need to respect the neighbors and keep the volume down." He hung his cover on the coat rack and started to take his jacket off. "I could hear it from the parking lot."
Mattie started to formulate her defense but by the look on his face and the tone of his voice she knew better. "Sorry," she replied sheepishly.
Harm took the Robben Ford CD out of his briefcase and walked back to the stereo. "Where did you get this CD?" he asked her fishing the homemade CD from the player.
"My friend Raphael made it for me," Mattie said not moving from the couch.
"Uh huh, well by the sounds of it he doesn't have very good taste," Harm remarked as he slid the Ford CD into its place.
"What's that supposed to mean" Mattie questioned him. "Creed is one of the top rated bands."
"Creed is one thing, but Meatloaf?" he eyed her carefully. "That's make out music Mattie. You're starting to worry me." He watched her duck her head and avoid eye contact with him. "Anyway, neither are Robben Ford," Rabb replied calmly turning the CD player back on with the volume at an acceptable level.
"Where did you find that?" she asked him quietly. "I was looking for it earlier."
He walked toward her without replying. Something is buggin her, he thought as he watched her carefully. "You left it in the car." He sat down in the chair across from her and took at deep breath. He could smell the lasagna in the oven and in scanning the room noticed the salad on the countertop.
"How was work?" she asked him emotionless.
God, we've fallen into that routine already? Asking questions we don't really want the answer to, Harm thought as he watched her staring at her book. "Ah, it was one of those days," he mumbled loosening his tie. He leaned forward and picked the mail off the coffee table and started to thumb through it. "The boss yelled at me, went up against a jerk in court, and got into a fight with Mac," he said sighing in defeat. "Your typical day at the office." He finally caught Mattie looking at him and he winked at her.
"Sounds fun," she replied shrugging her shoulders. She looked over at him briefly and then darted her eyes back toward her book.
"How was volleyball?" he asked her flatly. The moment of truth, he thought as he waited for her answer.
"It was fine," she replied staring at pages of her book. "Practice got out early."
Got out early? Right. He knew her game. Feeding him bits of the true because she didn't want to admit the whole, like she did when the bank foreclosed on Grace Aviation. She was lying, Stoner had told him as much when he said the music had been playing for three hours. School let out at 1530, volleyball practice should have run from 1600 to 1730. It was 1900 now. How early was that? He said nothing at first and let the silence speak for itself. After a minute he caught her looking up at him.
"Got out early huh? What time …. Like four o'clock?" Rabb caught her eye and locked his gaze on her. He watched the gamut of emotions roll through them as she struggled to deal with the lie she had just told him.
"No," she finally mustered. "It was more like…."
"Mattie," Harm stopped her before she perjured herself farther. "The neighbors told me when I came in the music had been blasting for over three hours." He didn't give her a chance to tell another story. His tone was stern and the icy glare he was giving her meant business.
Mattie swallowed hard and bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I just didn't feel like going," she stammered out.
"Something you want to talk about?" he asked her, softening his glare slightly.
"Why, did Jen tell you I was in a mood?" Mattie snapped back at him annoyed with all the questions.
Yeow! Harm thought as he felt the whiplash. Welcome to being a dad of a normal teenager! He shifted in his seat and tried another tactic. I've argued cases against the best attorney's in the Navy, I can have a conversation with my fifteen year old daughter. He leaned forward to close the gap between them and rested his elbows on his thighs. "Mattie, what do I do for a living?"
She looked at him quizzically. "You're an attorney," she answered him hesitantly furrowing her eyebrows.
"And what does that mean?"
"You prosecute or defend people in court."
"And what else?"
Mattie didn't respond right away as she tried to figure out what he was trying to get her to say. Where's he going with this? she thought as she struggled for an answer. "Investigate?" she finally choked out.
"Right," Rabb agreed with her. "And I wouldn't be very good at my job if I couldn't tell when something is bothering you. I've figured out your tricks, you know." He smiled trying to lure her into their comfortable conversation zone. "Out with it."
Mattie closed her textbook and shifted on the couch. "It's stupid," she mumbled feeling guilty.
"Try me," Rabb said sitting back in the chair.
"Aghh," she scowled. "I met some new kids and umm they're just different from the kids back home." She flicked her pencil on the top of the book and stared at the floor. She felt like crap for lying to him and wondering quietly what made her do it. Was it the peer pressure she felt last night after practice with Raphael? That's why I ditched practice today after all, she mused finally looking up at him.
"Different how?" Rabb asked her trying to read her before she answered. Different enough to make you lie to me? He knew Mattie was smart but in a new environment trying to fit in she may have made bad choices in friends.
She shrugged her shoulders. "I dunno know. They're just ….. all materialistic. Six months ago I was running my own business and they were worried about buying the hottest whatever at the mall."
She's fifteen going on thirty five, Harm laughed the irony of her statement. "That's why you skipped practice?"
"In a matter of speaking," she mumbled biting her lip.
"Mattie," Harm started getting frustrated with circles.
"Harm, I don't want you to think I make bad choices in friends," she interrupted with a defensive tone. "They were just putting pressure on me to do something…. that I wasn't comfortable with so I…" she paused for a moment. "Retreated. Isn't that what soldiers do in war?"
Harm smiled and nodded his head. "Yeah," he replied and paused a moment before continuing. "Look, Mattie, if these kids, that you want to be friends with, are pressuring you to do something that makes you uncomfortable…. then they aren't really your friends nor do they need to be your friends," he remarked in a fatherly way. He stood from the chair and headed into the kitchen to check on dinner. "Especially if they are influencing you to not be truthful with me," he added as he peered into the oven.
The words hung heavily in the air and hit her like a ton of bricks. She swallowed hard and cursed herself silently for knocking this wedge between them. Mattie threw her books to the side and stood up from the couch. She crossed her arms across her chest and walked over toward the island.
"Harm I'm sorry," she apologized. "I'm still just trying to figure it out … trying to fit in at school," she explained softly.
Harm lifted the lasagna pan from the oven and set it on top of the stove. He turned the oven off and threw the potholders on the countertop as he turned to face her at the island. "Trying to fit in at school doesn't mean you can jeopardize our rela….ah," Harm heard the decibel of his voice ramp up in his ear. His patience was already on edge from his rotten day at work, then adding the traffic mess and the rock concert he interrupted to the mix wasn't helping. But yelling at Mattie wasn't going to solve anything. Yelling isn't the answer, he could hear his step-father's words echo in his head. I am turning into him, he thought as he took a second to regroup, bracing himself against the counter.
"Mattie, I know fitting in at school isn't going to be easy for you. While you've been running a business, your teenage counterparts have been trying to figure out the boundaries of what's wrong and right. You've been making business decisions and have been accountable for the consequences, while they …. not all, but some of them aren't ready for that. Some take the easy road and chose to lie and deny instead of facing up to their decisions."
"That's why I didn't want to go back to school in the first place," Mattie argued sitting down on a barstool. "I know more than them, I don't need to be there."
"Mattie, you have a lot to learn," Harm countered as he pulled plates and silverware from the cabinet. "You just need to use better judgment when your friends put you in an uncomfortable position. You need to consider the risks. What's in it for me? How will it affect me? Will it cause problems between us?" Harm said handing her the plates to set the table. "And if the answer isn't clear, you need to discuss it with me. We need to keep the lines of communication open," he added waving his finger back and forth toward his face and hers. "I want you to know that you can come to me about anything. I don't want any secrets."
"Anything?" Mattie asked him with a sly grin.
"Yeah, I mean it," Harm replied setting water glasses on the counter.
"Even when I have female problems," she ventured still smirking. "With my cyc…"
Harm help up his hand to stop her. "Yes, Matilda. Even about that. Just because I'm a guy doesn't mean I don't know a few things about women." He picked up the lasagna pan and headed toward the table. "It's just not dinner conversation."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Soft blues played in the background of the Rabb apartment a couple of hours after dinner. A warm comfortable feeling danced around the room. Harm had changed into sweats and was sitting on the edge of the coffee table helping Mattie work though the chords on the guitar. The two bantered quietly and laughed together as Mattie flubbed through a sequence of her lesson.
"Try it again," Harm prompted her getting up from the coffee table. "Maybe its performance anxiety," he chuckled patting her on the shoulder and walking into the kitchen.
"Because you're OCD?" Mattie giggled working through the sequence again.
Harm retrieved two bottles of water from the fridge and walked back to the couch. He set one bottle on the coffee table for Mattie and collapsed into the couch next to her. "I'm OCD? I don't think so," he commented.
"Please," Mattie replied rolling her eyes. She smiled at him and laughed again. "Okay, just a little."
Harm grimaced at the reference and took a swallow of water. "If you don't mind me asking, what did your friends want you to do anyway?"
Mattie leaned over to grab her water and twisted the cap off. "Oh, it's this thing called juicing," she replied nonchalantly and took a drink of the water.
"Juicing?" Harm repeated with a perplexed expression on his face. What the hell is that? He didn't dare ask her for fear of not being "hip".
"Not what they called it when you were a kid?" Mattie chuckled when she noticed his expression.
"Well, I guess I would need to know what it was to be able to answer that," Harm countered. "Maybe we had some other cool name for it."
"Hmm, I guess another name for it is beejay," Mattie said before taking another drink of water.
"BJ?" Harm repeated his eyes opening wide. Surely she doesn't mean, he rambled subconsciously. No, no way…kids always make up names for things that adults confuse with other things. He took another long swallow of his water as he thought about what she had just said.
"Yeah, you know, blow job," Mattie replied matter-of-factly.
Harm choked on the water in his mouth and then spewed it all over the coffee table. He leaned forward, coughing uncontrollably, trying to catch his breath. Mattie set the guitar down and ran to get a towel from the kitchen. She was on her way back to him when he finally managed to choke out a response.
"Blow job?" he coughed a final time and took the towel from her. "As in … blow job, blow job?" Oh geezus, please tell me it's not what I think, Harm prayed wiping the top of the coffee table with the towel. Kids make up things right?
"Yeah," Mattie said not understanding Harm's adverse reaction. "I tried it yesterday with Raphael," she said lowering her voice as she watched Harm stare at her. "It didn't go so well," she added nervously.
"You tried it with this Raphael kid?" Harm half asked half repeated. A blow job! She gave him a fricken blow job! He ran his hand across his brow and realized he was sweating. "It didn't go so well?" he muttered with a stunned expression on his face. I can't believe this, he thought taking another swallow of water. It was part of that conversation that he prayed he would never have to have with her, but here it was staring him in the face. Quite innocently I might add, he mused as he tried to figure out what to say to her. How do I… shhht. If I was fifteen and some girl wanted to give me a blow job I'd be on the king of the sandlot. But this isn't just some girl anymore. This is my daughter.
"What it is anyway?" she asked knocking him flat. She looked at him innocently and waited for his answer. When he said nothing she started rambling nervously, "I mean, I know what it is … I looked it up in the dictionary. That's when I started to get confused and then Kendall gave me this," she said leaning over to her backpack that was sitting on the floor next to the chair. She unzipped the front pocked and fished a folded piece of paper from it and handed it to Harm.
He set the water bottle down on the coffee table and ran his hand over his hair and down his face before taking the paper from her. He flipped it around with his fingertips but didn't unfold it. He knew there were hundreds of women's magazines out there that gave sex tips every month. I have no desire to see what this says, he thought as he tried to say something intelligent to her.
"You looked blow job up in the dictionary?" he finally squawked out. He watched her nod and sit back down in the chair. "And what did it say?"
"It said it was slang for oral sex, which is when I got confused because Kendall and Raphael swore to me that it wasn't sex," Mattie implored.
"Did you ah … look up the definition for oral sex?" Harm asked dropping the paper on the coffee table. I'm going to kill that Raphael puke, he thought trying to reel in his emotions.
"Yeah, it said it was kissing the guy's thing," she replied flatly.
Harm blinked at the boldness of her comment. I can't believe that she is just sitting here talking to me about this like it's a …. shirt or a coat or something she is trying to convince me to buy for her. We're talking about sex for chrissake! He shifted himself on the couch. "That was the official definition according to the dictionary?"
"Well," Mattie shrugged. "That was the gist of it. So is it sex or not?"
Harm took a deep breath and blew it hard out of his mouth. "Yes, Matilda. A blow job is oral sex and oral sex is sex."
"Why would they tell me that it wasn't?" Mattie asked shifting in her chair. "Raphael said it was safe and it was no big deal."
Harm stood up from the couch and paced over to his desk. Because she obviously has no idea what the hell sex is! Don't they still teach that crap in biology class?? He stopped in front of the desk and drummed his fingers on the top of it. "Well, that goes back to what I said earlier about kids testing the boundaries of what's wrong and right." He turned around to face her. Can't show her any fear, he thought as he formulated what he was going to say to her. Since I told her an hour ago we could talk about anything, I need to be able to talk about this. Keep the communication lines open. After another deep breath he continued.
"Any type of sex is an intimate act between …. a couple. Body fluids like saliva and ….." he paused and waved his hand in a circular motion to fill the gap. "Are sha…transferred. If you don't know your partner, it's not safe and umm there is a chance of catching something," he stammered. Is it hot in here? he thought as he felt sweat running down his back.
"Catching something? I didn't know you could catch pregnancy?" Mattie asked rolling her eyes in response.
"No, not pregnancy, Mattie. You could get ah …. sexually transmitted diseases as a result of it," Harm said flatly. "Yew…you tried it with Raphael?" he asked her suddenly remembering that she had said that earlier. He realized his hands were shaking. He crossed his arms at his chest and leaned back against the desk.
Mattie shifted on the chair again and finally just got up, suddenly uncomfortable sitting there with Harm looking down at her. She walked around behind the other chair to put distance between them and contemplated her answer. "Well, I didn't kiss it," she mumbled. "I tried to ….," she started and then stopped and bit her lip. "I read the article that Kendall gave me and it seemed easy enough. But when I got with him, I tried to…. and then ….. I ra…and he … I … got freaked out and left." She was surprised to feel a tear on her cheek, unaware of how it had affected her. "That's why I didn't want to go to volleyball practice because he told me we could try again tonight," she said wiping the tear away.
Harm watched Mattie as she struggled to explain what exactly happened yesterday with Raphael. Images of her attempt filtered through his mind and memories of his first time. Novices, he almost laughed at the irony of it all. Parents don't tell you anything about sex! Sure they claim to have the talk with their kids, but they don't tell them how something as simple as a kiss turns on that ghost DNA that takes over all logical thought and good judgment. Harm thought breathing a sigh of relief. Thank god it freaked her out and she … retreated.
He pushed off the desk and walked over to her. He put ran his arm across her shoulders and pulled her into a hug and then walked with her to the couch. He didn't know what to say to her at that moment but hugging her seemed the right thing to do. As they settled down on the couch, he felt her head rest against his shoulder. That wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, he thought as he focused in on the music still playing in the background.
"Harm? You didn't answer my question," Mattie said sitting up to look at him.
What question? She had a question in that bomb she dropped? "What question was that?" he replied with a puzzled expression on his face.
"What is it?" she asked again. "I don't get it. What's the big deal? Why would somebody want …." She paused again and waved her hand back and forth. "Cause honestly …that's gross."
She's not letting me off the hook, Harm's mind reeled as he searched for an answer. Here's the moment of truth, he thought sucking in some air. "Ah, the penis has a lot of … ah nerve endings …. and umm any kind of pressure…ah I mean, umm the right kind of pressure …. feels good," he finally got out. Geezus I sound like a blabbing idiot.
Mattie thought about his answer and then furrowed her eyebrows. "So it's just a guy thing? I still don't get why they're so into it….it's just kissing."
"It's a little more involved than just kissing, Mattie and it's not just a guy thing. Women can get them too, although they're called something else," Harm said evenly for the first time since the conversation started.
"Cunnilingus?"
"Yes, Ms. Dictionary reader, that's the technical term … it's better known by a couple of different slang terms," Harm arched his eyebrows and smiled nervously. "The draw to oral sex is that it mimics intercourse without the risk of getting pregnant."
She was quiet for a moment as she processed the information. "For guys, it mimics intercourse for guys," she surmised quickly. "What's in it for women?"
"Not much," Harm replied laughing.
Mattie was taken back by the frankness of his answer and stared at him in disbelief. She finally started laughing at the absurdity of "it". That doesn't make any sense, she thought. If there isn't anything in it for me, why would I….her eyes widened as realized something from biology 101.
"What's wrong?" Harm asked as he watched her expression change.
"I wa…was just thinking about biology class. If the sperm is propelled toward the egg during um ejaca….doesn't that happened during …." her voice trailed off and she looked at him with alarm.
Wow! she doesn't miss anything, he surmised. "Yes," he replied holding her gaze. She's going to hurl, he thought as he watched her expression change.
Mattie's jaw dropped at his response and she covered her mouth. "In the mouth?" she muttered and made gagging sounds.
"Sometimes," Harm said quietly.
"In the mouth?" she repeated a little more loudly this time. "Are you friggen serious?" she jumped off the couch and paced around behind the chair across from him. "Wha waaa?" she mumbled and looked over at Harm in shock.
I can do this, he rationalized as he watched the color drain from his daughter's face. If I can out talk Mac in court, I can explain to Mattie what happens when she gives a guy a blow job, which hopefully will convince her not to have sex at fifteen. "Sometimes," he began his mouth suddenly feeling like it was stuffed with cotton balls. He cleared his throat and coughed. "Sometimes the guy can catch it and pull away and other times it ends up in the girl's mouth where she either umm spits it out or ah...swallows it."
Mattie gagged at the thought of it and coughed a couple of times. "That is so disgusting," she muttered finally sitting down on the chair. She gagged and coughed again as she tried to visualize what he just said. She watched Harm get off the couch and walk to the kitchen to get two bottles of water. He walked back over to the living room area and handed her one. "You weren't kidding when you said there wasn't much in for women," she said opening the bottle and taking a drink.
Harm took a drink of his water before answering her. "Well, sex isn't always all pretty and romantic like it's portrayed on TV," he said sitting down on the chair next to the couch.
Mattie took another drink of the water and then drummed her fingers on the side of the bottle. "What about … when the guy does it to a girl? Is it the same thing?"
"It's similar although a woman doesn't ejaculate per se. Pressure in …that area," Harm waved his hand around to make his point. "Gives a woman a sensation of euphoria and increases production of body fluids." He paused for a moment and felt like he needed to say something else. "The body fluids make intercourse more pleasurable." He glanced at her to see what she was doing and found her staring blankly at the coffee table. "Mattie?"
"Sorry," she said pulling herself out of her trance. "I need to use the bathroom," she muttered. She got up and darted across the room toward his bedroom.
Harm leaned his head back against the chair and ran his hand across his face. This is what fatherhood is about, he mused as the lecture from the juvenile court hearing officer replayed in his head. His step-father had given him a talk when he was a teenager, although it didn't seem as complicated as this. Always use a condom, respect women, don't make them do anything they don't want to, the words echoed in his head just like the day Frank had said them to him. Guess the old man wore off on me, Harm mused as he realized the music had stopped playing. He walked over to the stereo and switched out the CD's just as Mattie emerged from the bedroom.
"What did you mean earlier when you said I could catch something? Mattie asked as she came down the stairs and walked over to the island. "Like I could get sick from sex?" She sat down on a barstool to face him.
""Yes," he answered pushing the play button on the CD player. He walked over to the island and straddled the other bar stool. "If you aren't careful you can get a sexually transmitted disease. Diseases that can affect your ability to conceive a child or be intimate with someone you care about," Harm replied feeling confident for the first time since dinner.
"What about condoms?
"What about em?"
"Well, don't they protect a person from sexually transmitted diseases?" Mattie asked innocently enough. "We learned about them at school."
Man she just doesn't let up, Harm leaned his elbow on the island planning his counter attack. "That's true statement," he started to say, but Mattie cut him off quickly.
"So why can't you use a condom during oral sex?"
Harm sighed and drummed his finger tips on the counter. "In theory you could, but most people don't." That would defeat the whole purpose! he contemplated as he thought about it. Of course, I'm trying to talk her out of doing this, not into it.
"Why?" she asked quizzically.
"Honestly, I think people just don't think about it," he sighed and was quiet for a moment. "Most people just think about condoms for intercourse. They don't consider using them for other pursuits because they are under the impression that those other pursuits are safer than "normal" sex."
Mattie shuddered at the thought. "Well, I don't think I want …. anyone … to anyway," she said quietly.
"That's good to know," he said calmly. "One less thing for me to worry about."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Mattie chuckled and looked at him suspiciously.
"I know things are confusing during your teenage years and just a single kiss with a boy can turn on sensations in your body that you aren't used to or know what to do with. There are a lot of ways you can get in trouble with sex and not just getting sick," he said in a very fatherly way.
"I know like getting pregnant," Mattie replied confidently. "I don't want that ... I mean, I'm not ready for that anyway."
"Right... you're just a kid yourself ... you need to wait to have babies after you've had a chance to live a little. When you are in love with somebody. Besides, I don't want to have to rough this Raphael kid up for disrespecting my daughter," Harm said flatly. "How well do you know him anyway?"
"I've talked to him a couple of times," she answered shrugging her shoulders.
"And you were willing to try that with him?" Harm rebutted a little too sternly. "Are you trying to get a reputation for yourself?"
Mattie could tell he was getting mad again. "Sorry, it seemed harmless enough," she rationalized. "I know better now."
Harm took a breath and sighed heavily. "I know you do, Mattie. But you need to be careful. Girls that par take in those activities with guys they barely know get labeled by their peers and it opens the doors for gossip. You need to be prepared for the wrath of what Raphael has told his friends about what did or didn't happen last night." Harm countered trying to cool his mounting anger. "Boys can't keep secrets. They like to brag and tell tall tales. And if your peers think that you did something with him … your personal life will the talk of the lunch room. Loose lips sink ships. "
"Talking from experience Harm?" Mattie asked him with a smirk on her face.
"I wasn't always this old," he laughed. "I'm just wiser now and very protective of you."
"Well, I'll point him out tomorrow when you take me to school and you can have a talk with him," Mattie offered as she started to yawn. "Or beat him up."
Harm laughed and looked at his watch. "Yeah, if you don't go to bed soon, you'll be late for school tomorrow. Come on, I'll walk you home," he said standing up from the stool. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Good night sweetie," he whispered in her ear.
"Thanks Harm," she said reaching to hug him. "For being honest about …and not getting too mad at me about the music." She stood from the stool and walked to the apartment door.
"Oh, you're not off the hook about the music young lady," he scolded her with a huge smile on his face. "No more make out songs."
-0-