TITLE: The Killer Redux

AUTHOR: VIDZ

PAIRING: Harm/Manetti

TIMELINE: AU season 8 episode The Killer

DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc of the TV show JAG are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this fic. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, leyte asked me to write a Harm/Tracy fic. While I've been toying with this very idea before her email (let's face it, Tamlyn Tomito was drop dead gorgeous in those days (though I was very surprised how such a small and delicate-looking woman can have such a deep, rough voice)... can't say what she looks like now cause I haven't seen her in years...

Add to that, the character she played in JAG was a good person. I liked her, so why shouldn't Harm as well? :) I have never had any solid idea for the fic, therefore I couldn't pull it off.

But then the week of 1st April I was struck with inspiration and I knew I had to write it, so this came along. Truthfully, until I started writing this I have never seen the ep in question before. Only after I decided on writing this fic did I get it so I'd see the scene and be able to change it for my own evil purposes.

The first thing that struck me is something I remembered from the Harm/Mac fics I've read while I could still somewhat stomach Mac (but only because there were no other fics but Harm/Mac being posted): in those fics and their authors' notes the authors always wrote that HARM SAW A VISION OF MAC COMING OUT OF THE BATHROOM, then blinked and realized it was Tracy. It was not just one author that claimed that, but many of them that dealt with this scene. That was the main reason I never saw this ep... I wasn't really interested in seeing Harm so delusional. I missed it the first time and soon after that I abandoned HM and simply didn't WANT to watch it, because I believed those claims were true... Now, after having watched the scene myself, I found out those claims were all complete bullshit. Were they really that desperate that they would see things that didn't happen? Oh, right, they are also the ones staunchly claiming Mac was passionately and deeply in love with Harm, while Harm did nothing but hurt her and string her along, while playing with other women... those are actually things a Mac fan said to me about Harm. : facepalm : Which means, yeah they were that desperate and they weren't even a little credible as far as being a source goes.

Thankfully inspiration for a Harm/Manetti fic struck, so I watched the ep to realize it was nothing like I had thought it was.

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Rest assured, the next part of "Lean on me" is already written and ready, I just wanted to get this fic out already.

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SUMMARY: when Tracy Manetti came out of Harm's bathroom to stumble upon Harm an alternate universe branched off from the canon one, this one much, much better. This is the way the show should've gone - rather Tracy than Mac for Harm.

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The second he stepped out of the airport terminal was the first time of what would become a long line of occasions during his stay in Italy that Harm cursed the Uniform of the Day. The weather was too damn mild and muggy for the winter garb. He could already feel himself starting to sweat and overcome with an intense need for a shower ASAP he hailed a cab.

The hotel wasn't anything to write home about, he WAS there on Navy's budget after all, but it wasn't all bad.

It was small, set in the city centre and for some very strange reason it's style was american instead of italian... Indeed, for the first few seconds after entering Harm thought he'd stepped into some portal and had been warped back home, there was nothing italian in the way it was decorated. Which was nothing to gloat about because, compared to Italians, Americans don't have any taste or a sense for style, fashion and inner decoration. Well, not just Americans, Italians DO dominate these areas after all. Even though technically, reliability- and quality-wise their products are far from what they could be (especially cars and motorcycles).

Inwardly sighing in disappointment he made his way towards the reception desk, already hearing the wonderful sound of cool water falling from a pipe onto the floor of a shower cubicle.

Upon hearing someone approach, the young, blonde woman looked up, her professional smile already put in place, which then widened and received a tinge of sexuality when her eyes fell on the hunk in a Navy uniform towering over her.

She definitely liked what she saw.

While the Italians themselves don't have the word Commander nor this Navy rank, their equivalent is Capitano di fregata or Frigate Captain, the young woman had been working in this hotel long enough to have had contact with US military personnel and was familiar with it.

The conversation the newly-arrived American and the receptionist had was too short and too professional for her taste and, when they were done, she made a last-ditch attempt to get herself some action.

"Anything you need, Commander Rabb, just call me." taking a small paper she scribbled something on it "This is my direct line." passing him the scrap of paper Harm saw two numbers, the second probably a cell phone number "My shift ends at 8 pm." she smiled seductively, the heavily accented English oddly appropriate for the occasion.

Harm didn't miss the smile nor the double meaning to both, her saying she would get him whatever he needed and telling him when her shift would end, he knew when a woman was flirting with him. Okay, so Mac always accused him of not knowing what she wanted, but in truth Mac never asked for anything, much less said clearly wanted she wanted and then got pissed at him for not figuring it out. Not only that, but she also wrapped up everything in a not-so-nice package of the head-games she so liked to pull on him.

Even though he had absolutely no intention on taking the receptionist up on her invitation it sure was nice to have a woman make it plainly clear what she wanted from him. Ten... okay, make that 15, years ago he wouldn't have been this restrained, he would've jumped at the chance for some no-strings-attached sex with a beautiful woman, but he was older now and, he hoped, wiser.

Thanking her politely he kept his expression neutral, letting her know in a nice way he wasn't interested.

"Thank you." picking up his bags he made his way to the elevator bank, thanking whatever deity there was, that he would be able to take the load off for a few hours.

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