Chapter 26
Harm sat at an empty table in the officer's wardroom, sipping coffee and trying to shed the miasma left from a restless night's dreams. He hadn't known for certain what form the nightmares would take—he'd only known they would come. And they had, casting him back to the board or inquiry for his ramp strike, except that it had been a court martial held in the JAG courthouse and his dead RIO wasn't Mace, it was Audrey. His mother—looking strangely appropriate in Navy whites—had been the prosecuting attorney while Mac and Brumby had been his defense attorneys. Unfortunately, the two had been too busy planning an Australian getaway to pay much attention to his defense.
The conglomeration of his worst fears had woken Harm in a cold sweat and left him momentarily uncertain which was the reality and which the dream. It had only taken a second to orient himself, but that single moment had held an entire life's worth of guilt and shattered hopes, and he was still trying to shake the emotional impact.
"Morning, Harm."
The voice at his shoulder made him jump. He managed to set his coffee down without sloshing it over the rim, and looked up into Beth Hawkes' bright face. Her eyebrows rose.
"Bad night?" she asked as she slid into the seat next to him. Her expression remained light, giving him the option of blowing off her concern without also shutting her out. It was one of the reasons Harm valued her friendship. Skates usually got whatever information she wanted out of him, no matter how personal, but she never made him feel like he'd been cornered.
Harm shrugged. "Yeah, something like that."
Beth regarded him solemnly over the rim of her coffee mug. "You and Mac have a fight?"
Harm snorted and shook his head. "No." Which was true, even if Mac's sudden reticence the night before and the lingering aftermath of his dream made it feel as if they had. Why in the world had she been with Brumby again in his dream? Did it mean that subconsciously he still feared losing her to another man? But why would he? Weren't things, well... progressing... between them? Slowly, maybe, but—
"Yo, Harm."
He looked up in surprise at Skates. He had no idea how long he'd been lost in his thoughts.
She gave him a concerned, amused smile. "All I can say is, you'd better not fly today, Hammer."
Harm took that as gracefully as he could manage. She was right, he was out of it. The observation did little to brighten his mood, however.
"Gee, thanks," he grumbled, his sarcasm a tad sharper than she deserved.
Beth watched him, a furrow forming between her brows. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"
Harm eyed her. "Uh oh."
Her lips twitched at that. Harm could only sigh. "Go ahead, Beth."
She glanced down at the tabletop. "I can't speak from personal experience, but I'd bet that almost losing your daughter yesterday has probably hit a little harder than you were expecting."
Harm shrugged. "Maybe." Maybe that was all it was. He pushed his lingering doubts about Mac aside. "I only just met Audrey—we've barely gotten to know each other." He met Beth's sincere gaze as the emotions stirred by his nightmare pushed toward the surface. "I missed out on so much of her life, and to think that these last couple of months could have been all the time we had together..." He looked away. "Yeah, I suppose maybe it is hitting a little harder than I expected."
Beth snorted in an odd mixture of sympathy and derision. "And knowing you, you're probably beating yourself up over every one of those lost years, too."
Caught, Harm looked up sharply.
Beth gave him a sarky grin. "Uh huh. I don't know why people say you're hard to read."
"You must just be gifted, Lieutenant."
She grinned unrepentantly. "That I am."
Silence fell for a moment while Skates stirred her coffee and Harm stared unseeing at the bustle of the wardroom.
"So, why the guilt trip?" Beth asked suddenly.
Harm had been asking himself the same question, and the answer seemed pretty simple. "I should have been there... for her and her mother."
"You didn't know, right?"
Harm caught her gaze and held it. "Ignorance is no excuse." That was a basic tenet of the law, one that had been drilled into him as a first-year law student.
Beth just shrugged. "But it is a fact."
Harm sighed, resigned. "I see where you're going, and yes, it's true I didn't know about Audrey and probably couldn't have found out very easily even if I'd been looking. But that doesn't change anything. Just ask Audrey."
The slightly bitter comment drew a concerned look. "You think she resents you?"
Harm made a face as he sipped his lukewarm coffee. "Of course she does, and with good reason." He set his mug back down on the table and pushed it away. "Look, this isn't some sob story, Beth. All things considered, my relationship with Audrey is a whole lot better than I ever expected." He shrugged. "But that doesn't mean it's easy."
"What's not easy?" Mac asked as she walked up to their table, coffee in one hand and a plate piled high with scrambled eggs, sausage and potatoes in the other. When Harm looked up at her, she smiled shyly. "'Morning."
"'Morning, Mac," he responded automatically, wondering why he felt like his guards were slamming shut.
She sensed his mood, too, and her smile faded. "Am I interrupting?" she asked after a moment, glancing between himself and Beth.
When Harm didn't immediately respond, Beth favored him with a swift glare then turned to Mac. "No, ma'am. I was just providing a sounding board." She gathered up her coffee mug. "But now that you're here, I should probably get out of the way. Commander, Colonel." She nodded pleasantly to each of them and left.
In her wake, Harm and Mac stared at each other.
Trying to break the rocketing tension, Harm glanced at her plate. "Having a light breakfast today, Marine?" He forced a smile.
Mac watched him warily. "This is only the first serving." The joking response didn't match the tone in which it was delivered at all.
Suddenly Harm couldn't take it any more. He straightened abruptly and waved toward the chair Beth had vacated. "Geez, Mac. Sit down. I don't know what's wrong with me today." He pinched the bridge of his nose against a nascent headache.
She did so with the exquisite grace that was so much a part of her. She picked up her fork and proceeded to rearrange the food on her plate in between glances at him.
"So, what were you and Beth talking about?" She was obviously trying to sound nonchalant and, just as obviously, failing.
Needing something to do with his hands, Harm wrapped them around his cool coffee mug. "Audrey."
Her expression didn't change. "That's a broad topic."
Harm quirked his brows, recognizing the intensity hidden behind her forcedly bland stare. "Skates was accusing me of having a guilt complex."
Mac eyed him over a forkful of eggs. "Because you couldn't land that injured fighter for her?"
Harm shook his head. "No, though that's a pretty good guess," he admitted with a rueful shrug. "We were talking about the last twenty-one years rather than yesterday."
"Ah." Mac popped the eggs into her mouth. "Well, at least that's a legitimate reason to feel guilty." She smiled brightly, stabbing her fork at him. "For you that's progress."
Harm snorted. "Gee thanks."
A commotion at the door to the wardroom interrupted him before he could think of something else to say. A crowd of pilots and other crewmen pushed their way into the room, laughing and jostling. Harm noticed that Hotshot was among them even before he spotted his daughter's tall figure at the center of the group. One of the F-18 pilots walked behind her, pushing her along with a hand on either shoulder. It was the kind of friendly roughhousing that the aerial crews were known for, but it surprised Harm to see Audrey caught up in it.
Audrey looked a little uncertain, but was gamely going along. Harm turned his chair around, ostensibly to watch the goings on, but also to free him to leap to his feet if the situation warranted it. Not that he expected it to, but Audrey stirred his protective instincts even more than Mac did. He would be ready for trouble because he couldn't help himself.
Harm relaxed some as Captain Ingles stepped through the door behind the clump of aviators. He had obviously come with them, so whatever was going on had to have his blessing.
Noise in the wardroom died away as the group spread out along one wall with Audrey squarely in the middle. Hotshot and Elvis bracketed her, the latter with an arm slung across her shoulders. Captain Ingles walked toward the center of the room, his gaze flicking across Harm and Mac before he turned to face the group gathered with Audrey.
"Attention!" he snapped.
The officers filling the room surged to their feet, including Harm and Mac.
"At ease," Ingles instructed, allowing the room's occupants to shift to parade rest. Audrey, Harm noticed, was starting to look downright nervous. He didn't blame her, though he suspected this would turn out better than she was expecting.
Ingles glanced over his shoulders. "Commander Rabb, with me."
"Aye, sir," Harm answered, stepping forward. He stopped a pace behind the captain and resumed his stance.
Ingles didn't look at him. "Midshipman Le, front and center."
With a dozen grinning faces behind her, Audrey crossed the short distance separating her from Captain Ingles and came to attention.
Ingles looked around the room. "There is a tradition among naval aviators that says no matter how long you've worn your wings you're not really a pilot until you've made your first trap." A chorus of cheers followed his statement.
Ingles returned his attention to Audrey. "According to tradition, therefore—" Once again his gaze roamed the room, "and at least aboard this ship—she has earned the right to that title—" He paused, raising one hand, which was closed into a loose fist. "And to these." He opened his hand to reveal a gleaming pair of aviator's wings.
The silence following his statement was punctuated by Audrey's soft gasp.
Ingles turned to Harm with a grin. "Commander, I'll let you do the honors."
"Aye, sir," Harm responded automatically, overwhelmed by the opportunity Captain Ingles was offering him. "Thank you."
Very carefully he took the wings from the captain's hand then stepped in front of his daughter. Her gaze remained fixed straight ahead, her face expressionless, but Harm could feel the excitement emanating from her.
Fingers trembling ever so slightly, Harm pinned Audrey's wings in place, their gold surfaces gleaming brightly against her khaki uniform. "I'm proud of you," he said in a voice cast for her ears alone and saw her swallow hard, her eyes glistening. For a moment she allowed her gaze to meet his, their dark depths fierce with emotion. Harm smiled at her then stepped back, resuming his place behind the captain as the gathered aviators applauded.
"At ease," Ingles told Audrey quietly, then looked over her shoulder. "I believe Lieutenant Penn and the other members of the squadron also have a presentation to make." He stepped back, merging more or less with the audience. Harm followed his example, returning to his place beside Mac as Audrey turned to look at Penn.
The lieutenant accepted a helmet from Elvis before approaching. Recognizing what was coming, Harm crossed his arms and watched the scenario unfold with unabashed curiosity.
"It's also traditional for a pilot's first squadron to give them their call sign." Penn waved a hand at the rest of the squadron. "Which, in this case, means it's up to us." He stopped in front of Audrey, the helmet tucked against his chest with the faceplate toward him. He glanced around the room, grinning. "And, given that Midshipman Le gave up a promising career as a supermodel to fly fighters, we came up with this." With a flourish he turned the helmet around.
Audrey's eyebrows hiked toward her hairline as she took in the broad pink and purple stripes that decorated the front of the helmet with "VENUS" stenciled in white across them. After a moment, however, her face split in a broad grin. She took the helmet from his hands.
"Does this mean I've been promoted to goddess?" she asked, looking around.
Officers burst out laughing, including the captain.
The unofficial ceremony concluded, people went back to their food and conversations. Audrey was once again absorbed into the ranks of her squadron mates.
Shaking his head, Harm sat. Mac already had a mouthful of sausage and regarded him intently as she chewed.
"What?" he finally asked, unable to decipher the expression in her eyes.
She swallowed her food, then shrugged, looking away. "Nothing."
"C'mon, Mac..." One thing he knew: Nothing with Mac was anything but.
She sighed, her shoulders sagging. "It's silly."
"Tell me anyway."
She glanced up at him, then back down at her food. "I just keep thinking that someday that's going to be my child over there... because, let's face it, anyone with Rabb genes is doomed to fly..." She flashed him an oddly bitter look. "And I'm going to hate it."
Harm sat very quietly as he tried to absorb what she'd said. "Because it's dangerous?" he finally asked, his voice as gentle as he could make it and still be heard in the full wardroom.
Mac nodded. "Yes, because it's dangerous." Her fork dangled from her fingertips and she swung it like a pendulum as she spoke. "Don't forget that I've ejected from a fighter that promptly got blown out of the sky. I saw the explosion, and nearly got hit by some of the debris." She met his gaze, her dark eyes defiant. "I'm under no illusions as to how narrow the margin is in this business."
Her intense stare faltered. She looked down at her plate, busying herself with her food. "To be honest, I don't know how you can still be sane after what happened yesterday. I don't know how your mother survived it with you—twice no less—and I'm... I'm not sure I can be that strong." Mac didn't raise her eyes in the silence following her statement.
Harm pressed his lips together, biting their inner edges in hopes that the pain might somehow drown out his terror at her words. He knew what answer he had to give her, he just wasn't certain he could stand to hear her response.
"I can't promise you won't someday have to live with that, Mac," he said softly.
"I know." She still didn't look at him.
"If you can't live with it..." He trailed off, afraid to finish the thought.
Mac's head snapped up, her gaze centering on him with terrifying intensity. "It's not a question of whether I can live with it, Harm. That risk is the price for having you."
He blinked, taken aback by her blunt statement, and her severe expression softened into a grin. She pointed at his side. "It's printed quite clearly on the tag."
Harm glanced down at himself as if he might just find a price tag dangling from his elbow. When he looked back up he found Mac watching him with a winsome smile. He found himself grinning back, though he wasn't sure if he had anything to be happy about.
Her smile faded. "I guess I've never really thought through the implications..." Her cheeks colored. "You know... of our deal."
Harm gripped his coffee mug tightly in his hands, the pressure making his knuckles ache. "Are you having second thoughts?" He stared into his coffee dregs as if they might hold the secret to his future.
The lengthy silence tolled like a death knell.
Harm looked up when he felt a feather-light touch along his hand. Mac reached across the table, her fingers gently stroking his where they curled around his mug. The gesture was discreet, but powerful.
She looked into his eyes, her gaze deep and serious. "O.k. Yes, I guess this counts as second thoughts... technically." The corners of her mouth lifted. "But I'm not changing my mind."
Relief rushed through Harm. So much between them hinged on that spur of the moment deal they'd made on the steps of JAG headquarters. He pried his fingers loose from their viselike grip on the mug, returning her subtle caress. He saw the immediate response in her eyes, and felt his stomach tighten.
"Ahem."
They separated with a small jerk before turning guiltily to look up at Captain Ingles. The captain stood next to their table, watching them with a glint of amusement in his eyes.
"Am I interrupting?" he asked innocently.
Harm cleared his throat. "Um, no, sir." He and Mac traded glances. "Would you like to join us?"
That drew a laugh. "I don't have time to play chaperone, Commander. I just wanted to find out how much longer you two expect your investigation to take."
"Barring any more complications, sir," Mac answered, "we could probably have it wrapped up later today. Tomorrow at the latest."
He nodded. "Good. I'll look forward to you report." He turned to go.
"And getting us off his boat," Mac murmured, sotto voice. Harm chuckled.
With a sigh, Mac pushed herself back from the table. "Well, I suppose we'd better get to it, sailor."
Harm grinned at her. "Aye aye, ma'am."