Summary:
A set of dress whites are bloodied and hanging from a school flag pole, the Chief that owns them is UA and Harm and Mac are sent to California to investigate. The team faces anti-military sentiment where ever they go, especially from their ex-Navy suspect, but discover that even those with a difference of opinion and lifestyle can have virtues that are just as strong.
As the two try to take this case as business as usual, they find that the 'best friends' can be taken too far. A friendly tease turns into an argument, settled only when one of them tries something unconventional to quench years of curiosity without actually destroying their working relationship.
It doesn't work.
By the end of the week, JAG is kicked off the case, the client is arrested, Mac is drunk, Harm is tearing up, and Admiral Chegwidden is ready to transfer somebody out of JAG.
POVs: Harm, Mac, and some Admiral Chegwidden. Rated R for language and brief sexual content.
Apologies: *Chapters are unusually long, but there aren't many.
*Scene breaks and italics didn't come through in the transition from Word to HTML.
*Received many comments about the need for a thesaurus and beta reader. I agree. I wrote this book from beginning to end in four (yes, 4) days and have just now found a beta reader for my stuff.
These and other issues are being edited now. Will update the post when she's refitted from stem to stern... Kesselia
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** October: Tuesday
Paperwork. She loved the law. She loved being in court. She loved to argue and debate and question. The one thing Colonel Mackenzie couldn't stand about the law profession (and the military for that matter) was the never- ending stream of redundant paperwork. She would have depended on Bud to take care of it had the Lieutenant assisted the cases with her, but these were cases she had completed on her own, and all of the information that needed to be filled out was somewhere in her head, no one else's.
Mac slapped the file closed and pushed a sweaty brown strand of hair behind her ear before moving to the next one. The last hoorah of summer left a wet heat in the air that brought her to have shut tight the blinds of her office from the direct sunshine and kept the overhead lights dim. It was only an illusion that the darkness made the office any cooler. She lifted her head to ask Bud about the availability of a fan, her eyes and voice caught on the smile on Harm's face. He wasn't looking at her, but he looking childishly evil just the same.
He swaggered across the office floor with an arrogant half-grin aimed at Sturgis. In his hand was a small cardboard box that had already been cut open. The smooth dusty flats of his dress white shoes slid to a stop on the cheap tile in front of the other studious lawyer. Sturgis glanced up from his file, eyebrows first, and looked at Harm with the initial decision that the man was in need of professional help, an expression that would make one think Commander Turner and Admiral Chegwidden were somehow genetically related.
Harm's eyebrows jumped up and down twice as he showed Sturgis the contents of the box. Skeptically, Sturgis bent over his file to peer in. His eyes returned to Harm as a big smile grew across his face and he slapped the file closed with one hand.
By now, Mac was drenched with curiosity. Some mumblings between the two men about 'meeting this weekend' and 'make her purr' drifted into her office only make Mac's eyebrows ripple even further. She licked her lips and caught Harm on his way back to his office with the mysterious box. "Hey, Harm."
Harm stopped at her door, the flat dusty soles of his shoes making that noise again as he stopped. He politely gave her his attention and was completely innocent about what she would want to talk to him about. It was like this was none of her business.
Mac tapped her pen on her opposite finger and grinned with parted teeth. "Eh... What's in the box?"
Harm blinked, then pulled the box in front of him. "Oh. It's a-" He freed his other hand to pull out a fistful of bubbly steal, bolts, flanges, and gaskets to show her. "It's a carburetor."
Mac licked her lips again and smiled down at her desk, embarrassed that her mind ran away with her for a minute. "Of course." She licked the chuckle from her lips.
Harm shifted on his feet to smile like a proud father, "I'm going to work on it this weekend-" He interrupted himself so his voice could curl up into an invitation. "You should come by. I could use the company." She could read those blue eyes better than anybody, but when they warmed at her more than the normal friendly smile, she was afraid she was reading things that weren't really there.
Naturally, she lifted her chin and spit out a smile like he was nuts. "You want me to come over and help work on your car?"
He flicked a dashing smile and teased, "Yeah, well, Sturgis turned me down."
"Oh, I see." She nodded, flipping it around just to keep him on his toes. "So I'm your second choice?"
He caught his breath with defense. "Well, you're a." He motioned up and down the curves under the uniform and long legs and high heals and-
Her brow lifted with daring.
His hand whipped back before he got himself into really big trouble, "Marine." He folded his mouth closed innocently and put one foot into his office. "You're a Marine," he smiled, as if he just realized this piece of data, taking putting another foot into his office but still leaning out by the door jam to keep from looking like he was sneaking away. He ducked his tone and shook his head at how unfortunate it was, flipping it back around at her. "And you know how Marines are with fixing cars."
She put her hands behind her back, raised her chin, and took one easily step at him.
He ducked back in his office, already snickering, and flinched as if he was expecting to be plummeted. He prepared to close the door.
"Colonel?" Petty Officer Tiner marched over and stood at ease behind her. "The Admiral would like to see you and Commander Rabb in his office, ma'am."
Mac gave Harm a glare as she turned around. "Thank you, Tiner." She turned around with a strut. Harm's smile settled as he put down his box and stepped out of his office to fall into step behind her.
Harm may have won this one, but their little war was far from over.
And Mac enjoyed every minute of it.
Admiral Chegwidden sat behind his desk, peering through his spectacles like an angry vulture at the data he found in the file when Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie marched in and came to attention.
"Have a seat," he said with no humor, without looking up, and began explaining the situation before they fully sat down. "There's been an alleged murder of a PNC Wallis. A recruiter in Sunhill California."
Mac winced, "Alleged, sir?"
"They found his whites bloodied and hanging from a flag pole. Chief Wallis has been missing for four days. Local authorities suspect the work of a protest group but as yet have to produce any real suspects. Local JAG has been pushed away from the investigation because they claim it's out of our jurisdiction." He looked at them from over the rim of his glasses.
Harm wrinkled his nose. "Four days without contact is AWOL, sir. Until they produce a body, it is our jurisdiction."
"My point exactly." He handed over the file to the Commander. "Lt Galt does JAG for the area, reporting out of Sacramento I believe. When I spoke with him on the phone, I was severely unimpressed. I want you both on the first flight out to California to stick our noses in it, find the Chief or find his body, and remind the general population in that area that we insist on taking care of our own, no matter what their protest is. Dismissed."
They exchanged glances before shooting out of their chairs. "Aye aye, sir."
The first flight out was a red eye at 11 o'clock. It took the rest of the afternoon to secure other work at the office, the evening to pack and eat dinner, and half the night to fight traffic to the airport. They carpooled and, as Harm drove, Mac read off information from the file. They discussed the case much of the way and that discussion ended at the gate with a soft whine about protesters. Mac grabbed the window seat before Harm realized what was happening and Harm silently winced as he stuffed himself in the middle seat. His blues were going to be severely wrinkled after been scrunched in this seat for six hours. There was no where for his long legs to go. He managed to get somewhat comfortable, but that included putting his elbows on both armrests, hogging them entirely.
The middle aged man next to him wasn't much smaller and stretched his legs out to the aisle as soon as they settled in for take off. He chuckled at Harm and easily let the sailor have the entire armrest. Mac wasn't as giving.
She pulled out her paperback and tried to shove his elbow one direction or the other to make room for herself. Harm looked over at her and tightened his muscles to keep her from making any headway. It quickly turned into a grinning, gritted teeth battle over the armrest.
Mac gave up and yanked her arm away, huffed at him, and then set her elbow on top of his with a jab.
Harm winced harder than it hurt, "Owe," but left his elbow there, satisfied with the compromise. He settled his head back in the seat, set his white hat over his eyes, and snuggled in for sleep.
Her elbow softened on him, but stayed there. The lights went out as the plane taxied. She turned his light off and hers on.
"Thank you," Harm muttered. "But you should get some sleep."
"I will," she assured with a quiet whine.
It sounded like a response she'd have given a husband that had been nagging her about it all day and Harm could only rumble a quiet chuckle about that. His chuckle settled into a comfortable grin at the sinking of his stomach when the plane sped up and took off. It was slow and gentle and rocked him right to sleep.
A set of dress whites are bloodied and hanging from a school flag pole, the Chief that owns them is UA and Harm and Mac are sent to California to investigate. The team faces anti-military sentiment where ever they go, especially from their ex-Navy suspect, but discover that even those with a difference of opinion and lifestyle can have virtues that are just as strong.
As the two try to take this case as business as usual, they find that the 'best friends' can be taken too far. A friendly tease turns into an argument, settled only when one of them tries something unconventional to quench years of curiosity without actually destroying their working relationship.
It doesn't work.
By the end of the week, JAG is kicked off the case, the client is arrested, Mac is drunk, Harm is tearing up, and Admiral Chegwidden is ready to transfer somebody out of JAG.
POVs: Harm, Mac, and some Admiral Chegwidden. Rated R for language and brief sexual content.
Apologies: *Chapters are unusually long, but there aren't many.
*Scene breaks and italics didn't come through in the transition from Word to HTML.
*Received many comments about the need for a thesaurus and beta reader. I agree. I wrote this book from beginning to end in four (yes, 4) days and have just now found a beta reader for my stuff.
These and other issues are being edited now. Will update the post when she's refitted from stem to stern... Kesselia
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** October: Tuesday
Paperwork. She loved the law. She loved being in court. She loved to argue and debate and question. The one thing Colonel Mackenzie couldn't stand about the law profession (and the military for that matter) was the never- ending stream of redundant paperwork. She would have depended on Bud to take care of it had the Lieutenant assisted the cases with her, but these were cases she had completed on her own, and all of the information that needed to be filled out was somewhere in her head, no one else's.
Mac slapped the file closed and pushed a sweaty brown strand of hair behind her ear before moving to the next one. The last hoorah of summer left a wet heat in the air that brought her to have shut tight the blinds of her office from the direct sunshine and kept the overhead lights dim. It was only an illusion that the darkness made the office any cooler. She lifted her head to ask Bud about the availability of a fan, her eyes and voice caught on the smile on Harm's face. He wasn't looking at her, but he looking childishly evil just the same.
He swaggered across the office floor with an arrogant half-grin aimed at Sturgis. In his hand was a small cardboard box that had already been cut open. The smooth dusty flats of his dress white shoes slid to a stop on the cheap tile in front of the other studious lawyer. Sturgis glanced up from his file, eyebrows first, and looked at Harm with the initial decision that the man was in need of professional help, an expression that would make one think Commander Turner and Admiral Chegwidden were somehow genetically related.
Harm's eyebrows jumped up and down twice as he showed Sturgis the contents of the box. Skeptically, Sturgis bent over his file to peer in. His eyes returned to Harm as a big smile grew across his face and he slapped the file closed with one hand.
By now, Mac was drenched with curiosity. Some mumblings between the two men about 'meeting this weekend' and 'make her purr' drifted into her office only make Mac's eyebrows ripple even further. She licked her lips and caught Harm on his way back to his office with the mysterious box. "Hey, Harm."
Harm stopped at her door, the flat dusty soles of his shoes making that noise again as he stopped. He politely gave her his attention and was completely innocent about what she would want to talk to him about. It was like this was none of her business.
Mac tapped her pen on her opposite finger and grinned with parted teeth. "Eh... What's in the box?"
Harm blinked, then pulled the box in front of him. "Oh. It's a-" He freed his other hand to pull out a fistful of bubbly steal, bolts, flanges, and gaskets to show her. "It's a carburetor."
Mac licked her lips again and smiled down at her desk, embarrassed that her mind ran away with her for a minute. "Of course." She licked the chuckle from her lips.
Harm shifted on his feet to smile like a proud father, "I'm going to work on it this weekend-" He interrupted himself so his voice could curl up into an invitation. "You should come by. I could use the company." She could read those blue eyes better than anybody, but when they warmed at her more than the normal friendly smile, she was afraid she was reading things that weren't really there.
Naturally, she lifted her chin and spit out a smile like he was nuts. "You want me to come over and help work on your car?"
He flicked a dashing smile and teased, "Yeah, well, Sturgis turned me down."
"Oh, I see." She nodded, flipping it around just to keep him on his toes. "So I'm your second choice?"
He caught his breath with defense. "Well, you're a." He motioned up and down the curves under the uniform and long legs and high heals and-
Her brow lifted with daring.
His hand whipped back before he got himself into really big trouble, "Marine." He folded his mouth closed innocently and put one foot into his office. "You're a Marine," he smiled, as if he just realized this piece of data, taking putting another foot into his office but still leaning out by the door jam to keep from looking like he was sneaking away. He ducked his tone and shook his head at how unfortunate it was, flipping it back around at her. "And you know how Marines are with fixing cars."
She put her hands behind her back, raised her chin, and took one easily step at him.
He ducked back in his office, already snickering, and flinched as if he was expecting to be plummeted. He prepared to close the door.
"Colonel?" Petty Officer Tiner marched over and stood at ease behind her. "The Admiral would like to see you and Commander Rabb in his office, ma'am."
Mac gave Harm a glare as she turned around. "Thank you, Tiner." She turned around with a strut. Harm's smile settled as he put down his box and stepped out of his office to fall into step behind her.
Harm may have won this one, but their little war was far from over.
And Mac enjoyed every minute of it.
Admiral Chegwidden sat behind his desk, peering through his spectacles like an angry vulture at the data he found in the file when Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie marched in and came to attention.
"Have a seat," he said with no humor, without looking up, and began explaining the situation before they fully sat down. "There's been an alleged murder of a PNC Wallis. A recruiter in Sunhill California."
Mac winced, "Alleged, sir?"
"They found his whites bloodied and hanging from a flag pole. Chief Wallis has been missing for four days. Local authorities suspect the work of a protest group but as yet have to produce any real suspects. Local JAG has been pushed away from the investigation because they claim it's out of our jurisdiction." He looked at them from over the rim of his glasses.
Harm wrinkled his nose. "Four days without contact is AWOL, sir. Until they produce a body, it is our jurisdiction."
"My point exactly." He handed over the file to the Commander. "Lt Galt does JAG for the area, reporting out of Sacramento I believe. When I spoke with him on the phone, I was severely unimpressed. I want you both on the first flight out to California to stick our noses in it, find the Chief or find his body, and remind the general population in that area that we insist on taking care of our own, no matter what their protest is. Dismissed."
They exchanged glances before shooting out of their chairs. "Aye aye, sir."
The first flight out was a red eye at 11 o'clock. It took the rest of the afternoon to secure other work at the office, the evening to pack and eat dinner, and half the night to fight traffic to the airport. They carpooled and, as Harm drove, Mac read off information from the file. They discussed the case much of the way and that discussion ended at the gate with a soft whine about protesters. Mac grabbed the window seat before Harm realized what was happening and Harm silently winced as he stuffed himself in the middle seat. His blues were going to be severely wrinkled after been scrunched in this seat for six hours. There was no where for his long legs to go. He managed to get somewhat comfortable, but that included putting his elbows on both armrests, hogging them entirely.
The middle aged man next to him wasn't much smaller and stretched his legs out to the aisle as soon as they settled in for take off. He chuckled at Harm and easily let the sailor have the entire armrest. Mac wasn't as giving.
She pulled out her paperback and tried to shove his elbow one direction or the other to make room for herself. Harm looked over at her and tightened his muscles to keep her from making any headway. It quickly turned into a grinning, gritted teeth battle over the armrest.
Mac gave up and yanked her arm away, huffed at him, and then set her elbow on top of his with a jab.
Harm winced harder than it hurt, "Owe," but left his elbow there, satisfied with the compromise. He settled his head back in the seat, set his white hat over his eyes, and snuggled in for sleep.
Her elbow softened on him, but stayed there. The lights went out as the plane taxied. She turned his light off and hers on.
"Thank you," Harm muttered. "But you should get some sleep."
"I will," she assured with a quiet whine.
It sounded like a response she'd have given a husband that had been nagging her about it all day and Harm could only rumble a quiet chuckle about that. His chuckle settled into a comfortable grin at the sinking of his stomach when the plane sped up and took off. It was slow and gentle and rocked him right to sleep.