One Week Later;
2325 Zulu;
Just Outside Washington
"We certainly timed this well."
From the driver's seat of the Navy-issue sedan, Sturgis merely grunted at Mac's derisive comment. The two officers had spent the afternoon at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis representing JAG at a summer seminar geared toward graduating midshipmen. Unfortunately, the program had ended just at the onset of D.C. rush hour. Mac stared out the window as the car ground to a halt, absently wondering what to do about dinner. Part of her had feared suffering from psychosomatic morning sickness as soon as she found out she was pregnant, but fortunately she had yet to experience any symptoms other than the constant need to urinate. Her first visit to the OB/GYN was scheduled for early the next morning; Harm would be going with her.
Sturgis glanced at the radio clock. "Do you want to stop somewhere and grab a quick bite? I don't think we're going to make it back to the office anytime soon."
"Sure. Any place in particular?"
"We could always stop at Beltway Burger," he offered.
"Works for me," Mac grinned, grateful that he didn't share Harm's aversion to fast food. The vehicle inched forward as traffic began to move again.
Ten minutes later, they pulled into the restaurant's parking lot. A line of cars had already queued up at the drive-through lane, and judging from the looks on the drivers' faces the worker at the window wasn't moving quickly enough.
"Let's run in. It'll be faster."
Parking the car, the two officers walked across the lot to the restaurant's side entrance, where Sturgis held open the door. As Mac crossed the threshold into the open vestibule and the blast of hamburger-scented air hit her nostrils, her stomach immediately rolled in a wave of acute nausea.
Having started to follow Mac into the restaurant, Sturgis was surprised when she whirled unexpectedly and darted past him back outdoors. Chasing after her, he was shocked to find her kneeling along the building's brick wall, retching quietly behind the shrubbery. He rushed over to her side.
"Mac, are you all right? What happened?" A few moments later the heaving began to subside. Rocking back onto her heels, Mac brushed her hair out of her face and took a deep breath.
"I don't know. The smell in there. . . it just didn't agree with me, I guess. I'm fine, Sturgis, really," she assured him. The air rushed out of her lungs as she exhaled with a shudder. "Why don't you go back on in? I'll be there in a few minutes."
Watching her with obvious concern, Sturgis helped her to stand. "If you're not feeling well--"
"I'm okay. Honest," she told him as she straightened her uniform. To her dismay, he didn't appear convinced.
"Why don't you wait in the car while I get the food," he advised. "Do you want me to order anything for you?" Hesitating, Mac finally nodded.
"Would you get me a Coke and maybe a. . ." she gave some thought as to what sounded good. "A side salad. No dressing."
"Does Beltway Burger even offer salads?"
Giving him a wan smile, Mac shrugged. "I have no idea. Guess we'll find out."
"Okay, then. One Coke and a side salad coming right up." Handing her the keys, Sturgis flashed another worried look in her direction before heading back inside. *Perfect timing,* Mac thought as she turned towards where they had parked. *Looks like I'm not immune to morning sickness after all.*
* * * * * * * * * *
Thursday; 1430 Zulu; National Naval Medical Center; Bethesda, Maryland
The waiting room outside the obstetrician's office had slowly filled with patients. Here and there sat women in varying stages of pregnancy, some alone and others with their spouse or significant other sitting patiently at their sides. Just as a doctor was paged across the hospital PA system, the door at one end of the waiting room opened. Holding the door for her, Harm waited until Mac had passed him before following her through the maze of chairs towards the hallway.
"Why didn't you tell me you've had bouts of morning sickness?" he pressed as soon as they were out of earshot. "Mac, I can't help you through this if you don't share with me what's going on." Hand cupping her elbow, he gently steered her clear of an oncoming patient.
She glanced at him and sighed. "What exactly was I supposed to do, call you from the Beltway Burger drive-through? There wasn't anything you could have done, Harm. Anyway, calling you would have made Sturgis suspicious. "
"Sturgis was there?" Alarm crossed Harm's face. "What did you tell him?"
"Nothing specific, only that I'd probably picked up a 24-hour bug."
"And he bought that?"
"Why wouldn't he? He'd have no reason to think I'd lie to him."
"Mac, how many people get the 24-hour stomach flu in the middle of July? Besides, you *never* get sick. That explanation is bound to make him more suspicious, not less." Stopping in front of the elevators, Harm pressed the button and turned to face her with a sigh. "I guess we'll deal with Sturgis if we have to. At least it happened in front of him and not Harriet. Do you want to tell me what happened?"
"There's not much to tell. One minute I was fine, the next I was crouching behind a bush puking my guts out."
"Just out of the blue?" His expression turned to one of concern.
She nodded. "As soon as I walked into the restaurant."
"What do you think triggered it?"
Mac hesitated before answering. She feared that she'd never hear the end of it if he knew she'd gotten sick at the smell of cooked beef. For years they had traded barbs about each other's eating habits. Her love of 'dead animal', as he'd once so eloquently put it, was legendary. Harm, in stark contrast, had been a virtual vegetarian as long as they'd known one another. "I really couldn't say what it was exactly," she hedged as the elevator doors slid open. They stepped into the cab in silence.
"We're going to need to tell Admiral Chegwidden," Harm said as the doors closed and the elevator began to move. He glanced over at Mac.
"Technically we have thirty days to inform him, but I don't want to wait that long. He needs to know ASAP if he's going to find a way for both of us to stay at JAG," she said.
"I agree." Harm paused. "How about telling him today?"
Her eyes went wide as Mac stared at him in disbelief. "Today? I was thinking more along the lines of tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Is there any reason why we *shouldn't* tell him today?" he dared, shooting her a lopsided smile.
"Self-preservation?" came her weak reply. Harm grinned back at her.
"C'mon, Mac, where's your sense of adventure?"
Hearing the challenge in his words, Mac straightened and looked him squarely in the eye. "When do you plan to call your mother?" she countered. Harm paled.
"You're right. We can tell the Admiral tomorrow," he conceded as the doors opened onto the skywalk leading to the parking deck. Mac shook her head and laughed openly at his quick change of heart.
"That was way too easy. What ever happened to the cutthroat negotiator we all know and love?" she joked as she stepped out of the elevator ahead of him. Harm eyed the back of her head with a questioning eyebrow. He immediately realized that she'd meant the words as gentle teasing, not to make him uncomfortable, and smiled as he caught up with her.
"Seriously though," she continued, oblivious of the thoughts racing through Harm's mind, "eventually we *will* need to tell your mom, not to mention Mattie. . ." At the thought of Harm's ward, Mac's voice trailed off.
"What?"
"If we tell Mattie," Mac frowned, "then Jennifer will also have to be told. Aside from the Admiral, I'm not sure that I want everyone at the office to know until I'm a little farther along."
Harm nodded. "You know, the Admiral may have some suggestions as to what we say to Petty Officer Coates."
"Do you really think asking him is a good idea?"
"It couldn't hurt. After all, we're trusting him to help keep us both under his command."
"All right, I see your point."
Each was silent as they crossed the skywalk and entered the parking garage. Having driven separately so as to avoid arousing suspicion at JAG later on, the two friends had met in the lobby of the hospital before the scheduled doctor's appointment. Always punctual, Mac had secured a parking space on the same level as the skywalk. The closest spot Harm could find, on the other hand, was two floors above.
Nearing her car, Mac stopped and turned to Harm. "Hey," she began, "if I didn't say so before, thanks for coming with me today." His face melted into an easy grin.
"I wouldn't have missed it for anything."
Mac nodded and smiled back. A moment later, she unexpectedly found herself wrapped in his warm embrace. *What's this for?* she wondered in pleasant surprise. They stood there motionless for several minutes before she pulled away.
"It's nearly 1000 hours," she told him softly. "You've got a meeting at 1030, and I promised the Admiral I'd have the Updike file to him by this afternoon. Besides," she chuckled, "we wouldn't want to give Harriet the wrong impression."
"Or Sturgis," Harm added mischievously. "I'll see you back at the office. Drive safely, okay?"
"Back at you, Flyboy." Mac stood and watched as he walked towards the stairwell with a wave goodbye. Finally, once he'd disappeared beyond the doorway, she slid into the car and turned the ignition. Despite Harm's reassuring words she continued to have reservations about their impending discussion with Admiral Chegwidden. After all he had put Harm and herself through the year before, would their commanding officer really be inclined to help them both keep their positions at JAG Headquarters? *It's a chance we'll have to take,* she mused as she threw the Corvette into reverse.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
To be continued. . .
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
A/N: I have no idea if the U.S. Naval Academy hosts summer sessions like most universities. If it does not, then please dismiss the "summer seminar" as a bit of creative liberty on my part. Thanks!
"We certainly timed this well."
From the driver's seat of the Navy-issue sedan, Sturgis merely grunted at Mac's derisive comment. The two officers had spent the afternoon at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis representing JAG at a summer seminar geared toward graduating midshipmen. Unfortunately, the program had ended just at the onset of D.C. rush hour. Mac stared out the window as the car ground to a halt, absently wondering what to do about dinner. Part of her had feared suffering from psychosomatic morning sickness as soon as she found out she was pregnant, but fortunately she had yet to experience any symptoms other than the constant need to urinate. Her first visit to the OB/GYN was scheduled for early the next morning; Harm would be going with her.
Sturgis glanced at the radio clock. "Do you want to stop somewhere and grab a quick bite? I don't think we're going to make it back to the office anytime soon."
"Sure. Any place in particular?"
"We could always stop at Beltway Burger," he offered.
"Works for me," Mac grinned, grateful that he didn't share Harm's aversion to fast food. The vehicle inched forward as traffic began to move again.
Ten minutes later, they pulled into the restaurant's parking lot. A line of cars had already queued up at the drive-through lane, and judging from the looks on the drivers' faces the worker at the window wasn't moving quickly enough.
"Let's run in. It'll be faster."
Parking the car, the two officers walked across the lot to the restaurant's side entrance, where Sturgis held open the door. As Mac crossed the threshold into the open vestibule and the blast of hamburger-scented air hit her nostrils, her stomach immediately rolled in a wave of acute nausea.
Having started to follow Mac into the restaurant, Sturgis was surprised when she whirled unexpectedly and darted past him back outdoors. Chasing after her, he was shocked to find her kneeling along the building's brick wall, retching quietly behind the shrubbery. He rushed over to her side.
"Mac, are you all right? What happened?" A few moments later the heaving began to subside. Rocking back onto her heels, Mac brushed her hair out of her face and took a deep breath.
"I don't know. The smell in there. . . it just didn't agree with me, I guess. I'm fine, Sturgis, really," she assured him. The air rushed out of her lungs as she exhaled with a shudder. "Why don't you go back on in? I'll be there in a few minutes."
Watching her with obvious concern, Sturgis helped her to stand. "If you're not feeling well--"
"I'm okay. Honest," she told him as she straightened her uniform. To her dismay, he didn't appear convinced.
"Why don't you wait in the car while I get the food," he advised. "Do you want me to order anything for you?" Hesitating, Mac finally nodded.
"Would you get me a Coke and maybe a. . ." she gave some thought as to what sounded good. "A side salad. No dressing."
"Does Beltway Burger even offer salads?"
Giving him a wan smile, Mac shrugged. "I have no idea. Guess we'll find out."
"Okay, then. One Coke and a side salad coming right up." Handing her the keys, Sturgis flashed another worried look in her direction before heading back inside. *Perfect timing,* Mac thought as she turned towards where they had parked. *Looks like I'm not immune to morning sickness after all.*
* * * * * * * * * *
Thursday; 1430 Zulu; National Naval Medical Center; Bethesda, Maryland
The waiting room outside the obstetrician's office had slowly filled with patients. Here and there sat women in varying stages of pregnancy, some alone and others with their spouse or significant other sitting patiently at their sides. Just as a doctor was paged across the hospital PA system, the door at one end of the waiting room opened. Holding the door for her, Harm waited until Mac had passed him before following her through the maze of chairs towards the hallway.
"Why didn't you tell me you've had bouts of morning sickness?" he pressed as soon as they were out of earshot. "Mac, I can't help you through this if you don't share with me what's going on." Hand cupping her elbow, he gently steered her clear of an oncoming patient.
She glanced at him and sighed. "What exactly was I supposed to do, call you from the Beltway Burger drive-through? There wasn't anything you could have done, Harm. Anyway, calling you would have made Sturgis suspicious. "
"Sturgis was there?" Alarm crossed Harm's face. "What did you tell him?"
"Nothing specific, only that I'd probably picked up a 24-hour bug."
"And he bought that?"
"Why wouldn't he? He'd have no reason to think I'd lie to him."
"Mac, how many people get the 24-hour stomach flu in the middle of July? Besides, you *never* get sick. That explanation is bound to make him more suspicious, not less." Stopping in front of the elevators, Harm pressed the button and turned to face her with a sigh. "I guess we'll deal with Sturgis if we have to. At least it happened in front of him and not Harriet. Do you want to tell me what happened?"
"There's not much to tell. One minute I was fine, the next I was crouching behind a bush puking my guts out."
"Just out of the blue?" His expression turned to one of concern.
She nodded. "As soon as I walked into the restaurant."
"What do you think triggered it?"
Mac hesitated before answering. She feared that she'd never hear the end of it if he knew she'd gotten sick at the smell of cooked beef. For years they had traded barbs about each other's eating habits. Her love of 'dead animal', as he'd once so eloquently put it, was legendary. Harm, in stark contrast, had been a virtual vegetarian as long as they'd known one another. "I really couldn't say what it was exactly," she hedged as the elevator doors slid open. They stepped into the cab in silence.
"We're going to need to tell Admiral Chegwidden," Harm said as the doors closed and the elevator began to move. He glanced over at Mac.
"Technically we have thirty days to inform him, but I don't want to wait that long. He needs to know ASAP if he's going to find a way for both of us to stay at JAG," she said.
"I agree." Harm paused. "How about telling him today?"
Her eyes went wide as Mac stared at him in disbelief. "Today? I was thinking more along the lines of tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Is there any reason why we *shouldn't* tell him today?" he dared, shooting her a lopsided smile.
"Self-preservation?" came her weak reply. Harm grinned back at her.
"C'mon, Mac, where's your sense of adventure?"
Hearing the challenge in his words, Mac straightened and looked him squarely in the eye. "When do you plan to call your mother?" she countered. Harm paled.
"You're right. We can tell the Admiral tomorrow," he conceded as the doors opened onto the skywalk leading to the parking deck. Mac shook her head and laughed openly at his quick change of heart.
"That was way too easy. What ever happened to the cutthroat negotiator we all know and love?" she joked as she stepped out of the elevator ahead of him. Harm eyed the back of her head with a questioning eyebrow. He immediately realized that she'd meant the words as gentle teasing, not to make him uncomfortable, and smiled as he caught up with her.
"Seriously though," she continued, oblivious of the thoughts racing through Harm's mind, "eventually we *will* need to tell your mom, not to mention Mattie. . ." At the thought of Harm's ward, Mac's voice trailed off.
"What?"
"If we tell Mattie," Mac frowned, "then Jennifer will also have to be told. Aside from the Admiral, I'm not sure that I want everyone at the office to know until I'm a little farther along."
Harm nodded. "You know, the Admiral may have some suggestions as to what we say to Petty Officer Coates."
"Do you really think asking him is a good idea?"
"It couldn't hurt. After all, we're trusting him to help keep us both under his command."
"All right, I see your point."
Each was silent as they crossed the skywalk and entered the parking garage. Having driven separately so as to avoid arousing suspicion at JAG later on, the two friends had met in the lobby of the hospital before the scheduled doctor's appointment. Always punctual, Mac had secured a parking space on the same level as the skywalk. The closest spot Harm could find, on the other hand, was two floors above.
Nearing her car, Mac stopped and turned to Harm. "Hey," she began, "if I didn't say so before, thanks for coming with me today." His face melted into an easy grin.
"I wouldn't have missed it for anything."
Mac nodded and smiled back. A moment later, she unexpectedly found herself wrapped in his warm embrace. *What's this for?* she wondered in pleasant surprise. They stood there motionless for several minutes before she pulled away.
"It's nearly 1000 hours," she told him softly. "You've got a meeting at 1030, and I promised the Admiral I'd have the Updike file to him by this afternoon. Besides," she chuckled, "we wouldn't want to give Harriet the wrong impression."
"Or Sturgis," Harm added mischievously. "I'll see you back at the office. Drive safely, okay?"
"Back at you, Flyboy." Mac stood and watched as he walked towards the stairwell with a wave goodbye. Finally, once he'd disappeared beyond the doorway, she slid into the car and turned the ignition. Despite Harm's reassuring words she continued to have reservations about their impending discussion with Admiral Chegwidden. After all he had put Harm and herself through the year before, would their commanding officer really be inclined to help them both keep their positions at JAG Headquarters? *It's a chance we'll have to take,* she mused as she threw the Corvette into reverse.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
To be continued. . .
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
A/N: I have no idea if the U.S. Naval Academy hosts summer sessions like most universities. If it does not, then please dismiss the "summer seminar" as a bit of creative liberty on my part. Thanks!