A/N As this is my first JAG fanfiction, I have been editing and updating the posted portions of this Story. So you may want to revisit each Chapter to see the changes.
Chapter 1 Welcome to a New Normal
Link to canon episode: Pilot (September 1995)
Characters from FFNET – C Pike, H Rabb jr,
Rating: definitely an M (even as a dream sequence!)
Harmon Rabb, Jr.'s, Navy career could have been summed up in Aviation terms in the following highlights: United States Naval Academy Graduate with a Bachelors degree in Aeronautical Engineering, Navy Primary Flight Training Graduate, Navy Jet/Strike Flight Training Graduate, Advanced Navy Combat Fighter Pilot Graduate, F-14A+ Driver, Defender of the no-fly zone in the Gulf of Sidra with a confirmed kill and sadly Crash Survivor.
That was the Harmon Rabb, Jr. he knew he would be from the day he entered the Naval Academy until now - well, apart from the Crash Survivor part.
Now? Well now he is a 32 years old lieutenant (O-3) newbie junior Naval attorney assigned to JAG Headquarters and starting his career all over. Currently he is sitting on the second floor, in his cubicle, doing administrative legal documents; wills, power of attorney, rent disputes, non-judicial punishment appeals, and yes, Freedom of Information Act requests. It didn't get much worse than FoIAs. It wasn't that he didn't like being an attorney, it was just that being a junior Navy lawyer has the same appeal to a front line Fighter Pilot (for Harm had yet to see himself any other way) as being a Navy Proctologist. Dealing with Assholes all day and it Stinks.
But there was one good thing about being a Navy lawyer at JAG Headquarters; it was the alluring fragrance of a certain all so tempting Female junior JAG attorney. True her cubicle wasn't next to his, but oh, her fragrance was. He appreciated how it kept him going during the day. That fragrance and the occasional sight of her, those were the only perks of being at JAG Headquarters as far as Harm was concerned.
She - well Lieutenant JG Caitlin "Kate" Pike to be precise - was every horny teenage boy's dream and fighter pilot's desire. Just the right height (at 5 foot 10 inches), just the right hair color (auburn), just the right curves, (36, 24, 32 or better yet 38, 24, 32 depending upon how hard her nipples were when you measured around her blouse bunnies) and those legs! What legs, firm and long all the way up to her tight ass and he imagines, a firm and well-groomed love box with just the right tightness and lubrication waiting to be tasted and pleasured. A sexual dynamo that could expertly relieve this former Fighter Jock from the pain of deadly sperm buildup - or DSB as it was known by on a Carrier. Moreover, the way her uniform shirt is stretched by those, he is sure, big, firm, round tits with nipples hard as . . . . . . feeling his man muscle start to come alive, Harm realized he better haul his thoughts back to the latest FoIA request: that the US Navy release the sonar profile for its vessels anchored in San Diego, CA for the dates from December to April for the last ten years so that Friends of the Ocean can determine if it is harmful to the new Whale calves that come up from Baja California, Mexico. Standard response would have been a "Duh, NO!" Except it can't be that simple a response. No, it had to be in Navy jargon for "go FUCK yourselves, we're not going to give to you what the enemies of America would love to have".
It has been six months since he was posted to JAG Headquarters and Harm has been pretty much a recluse. Yeah, he gets out every weekend to go sightseeing, after all it is the Nation's Capital and just the Smithsonian alone could keep one busy for a year without repeating an exhibit. Then there is the Air and Space museum itself and its Annex: wow! The pleasure and torture it brings to him is almost like being into BDSM. The pure joy of seeing all the different airframes and space vehicles. The memories they bring of going Mach 2.3 and conducting tactical aerial maneuvers or better yet yanking and banking and janking as his Combat Tactics instructors called it, is like achieving an orgasm. To keep from being totally depressed about his Broke Dick Aviator status he reminds himself, at least he has Sarah. She's no Tom Cat, but you can do aerobatic maneuvers in her. And unlike some women, Sarah, just like her namesake, hadn't let him down yet. And more than that, he knew how to make her purr, and it felt good.
Its after leaving the Museum that the pain starts; the realization that his days of flying at Mach are done, the companionship of his fellow fighter pilots and RIOs is gone and - most of all - the "what could I have become" will never be answered. So it is after a day at the Air and Space museum that he goes into his shell. Of course he would like to meet people his own age and start friendships, but it's still too soon. Hard to replace "hey Gor, nice splash on that bogey, or Lugnut nice trap, the deck was rockin' and rollin' like the devil was fucking the ocean or hey Nugget, don't worry you'll trap the number three wire one of these days" with "hi, did you see the cherry blossoms, weren't they wonderful" or "the Boston Philharmonic is in town at the Kennedy Center, what an opportunity to hear a world renowned symphony". Harm sees himself, not a city boy, but still as a front line, Carrier based, hard-charging, death-dealing fighter pilot, so no, no friends yet. And even more, no "girl" friends, except for "The One" in his all too real fantasies.
So at night, when all the other distractions fade away as he drifts off to sleep, his fantasies come to life.
It is as he is reviewing a lease agreement for an enlisted sailor that he gets a thought. This is how I can keep busy and distract myself from my free time Hell, (besides his now, all too frequent not-appropriate-for-work or home dreams about a certain LtJG) become a homeowner. Well not really a homeowner as much as an apartment building owner. But how and where? That weekend his new distraction was already paying off as he spent his free time investigating and qualifying possible apartment buildings. With his new distraction, Harm began to accept his new normal. Not the Sky, not the Sea, not the Business end of the Spear, no, just a plain ole Admin Weenie slash REMF, Landlord and Building Supervisor. Well, not the whole building; just one floor of a new coop near Union Station and not the Super, just the guy who is responsible for constructing the apartment he will be in and the other seven on his floor that he now owns. For the foreseeable future, Harm knows exactly how his nights and weekends will be spent, CONSTRUCTION WORKER!
As he starts his "new normal" in 1995, Harm gets an opportunity he wasn't expecting from the JAG. There has been a man overboard - or more correctly a sailor overboard - incident on the aircraft carrier U.S.S. Seahawk, where Captain Thomas Boone is the CAG. Wanting to feed a lowly junior JAG to the sharks in case of problems, the JAG decided to send Harm to investigate, given that the sailor overboard is a female RIO, one of the first to see combat since the Navy allowed women into combat aircraft and a poster girl for the Navy. Even better for Harm, LtJG Pike is assigned as his investigating partner because the missing sailor is a female. After flying to Italy, then by helicopter to the middle of the Mediterranean, where the Seahawk is conducting maneuvers as a deterrent to Serb aggression in the region, Harm and Kate landed on the Seahawk. It is a bitter sweet event for Harm. First the what could have been, second the fact that Capt. Thomas Boone is part of the investigation and last because LtJG Pike unknowingly says the most hurtful thing a Broke Dick fighter jock can ever hear, "this is my first time on a Carrier, what about you?" The memories come flooding in; a storm tossed deck, blurred vision, the ramp strike and the loss of his RIO. What makes matters even worse is his former RIO's brother is on board. So much for a good opportunity. But who knows, maybe things will get better, after all he is on a Carrier.
After arriving on the Seahawk, Harm's life did get better. But sadly, first came the unfortunate solution to the sailor overboard case. Though her remains were recovered, it was a small positive to a life lost, a family destroyed and a selfish Pilot's career and life ending with no value.
The good part was, he got to interact with Tom (Harm felt justified in calling the CAG by his first name, since he is his Godfather and his MIA Dad's former wingman, well maybe not in front of anyone or to his presence in public or even in private, but at least in his mind when he was thinking about the CAG) and even go out on a mission with him. Next, he got to go beyond MACH! Ah, the feeling of flying in an airframe worthy of his talent. An airframe that made him feel at home and worth the Millions the Navy and the US taxpayer had spent on him to become a Combat Aviator. The feeling that he was carrying on a family tradition. Yes he got to go flying and not only that, he got to FLY! Not the best flight of his life seeing how the CAG was wounded, that he had to overcome his repeating nightmare, that it was getting dark and other demons. But Harmon Rabb, Jr. Admin Weenie slash REMF still had it and he successfully trapped (okay, maybe not the number 3 wire, but he trapped). He also gained the forgiveness of his RIO's brother and got to be with REAL heroes, the ones that put the fear of god into the hearts of evil doers, the ones who put on the uniform and do their duty regardless of the dangers or personal sacrifices, and even more, he was honored by them with a unconventional Winging ceremony.
And most of all, he got his swagger back, the one they issue every Fighter Pilot when they Graduate Advanced Navy Combat Fighter school, with the help of a certain flirty LtJG. And yes she does smell and look as nice as a wet dream. A helpful trait as far as Harm was concerned was she is not afraid to push personal space and gave it back as hard as she gets it.
This new view of Kate, along with the memory of her tits in his face and all Harm could imagine, her erect nipples, touching him through her peanut butter top, when she leaned into him in his quarters and (he was sure) was going to kiss him, but teased him instead. All which brought out the nasties in him.
Nasties like his frequent visions of her pulling one of her tits-in-his-face moves (or TIF move, as he acronymized it), only to have her top pop open to reveal deep cleavage and a white lacy see through bra with nothing hiding her erect nipples from his view. Of her reaching up and pulling his face into her tits to be motor boated by him as her hand snaked down into his pants to rub his very erect and hard man muscle as she purrs in his ear "what you going to do about this Jet Jockey?" - then his answer being to grab her by her legs wrapping them around his waist as he is pulling her up to his standing height and then realizing she has gone commando and has nothing on under her Summer Whites skirt but a garter belt and nylons: then seeing her eyes light up, when he realizes she is wet and throbbing just waiting for him to place his lips on her vertical lips and stick his probing tongue into. . . . ., oh no, his man muscle had come to full attention as he lived this dream. Maybe it's time for a quick shower and some alone time to reduce his DSB levels. Fortunately for Harm, his roommate was out on a night Combat Air Patrol (CAP) mission that would keep him from disturbing Harm's activities.
Once in the shower, Harmon Rabb, Jr. experienced something he hasn't since his days of puberty. As the warm water started to flow over him, his mind took over. There he was, Kate's legs wrapped around his waist, her wet and ready love box against his six pack abs, soaking his peanut butter top with her juices, all the while her hand stroking his now (and in real life) rock hard cock, just aching for release. Then Kate did what only a world famous ballerina or gymnast could do, she released his cock and with both hands around his neck, she leaned back, swung her legs open and placed her legs around his neck, and vaulted so her wet, moist and throbbing love box was in his face. With her new vantage point, Kate proceeded to push her wet vertical lips against Harm's horizontal lips and stated "What's wrong Jet Jockey, Kate got your tongue?" With that statement he imagined himself answering her taunt by pressing his tongue into her vertical lips feeling them part as his tongue got deeper into her pleasure zone making her legs start to tremble. Just then Harm had the most sensual, erotic, DSB depleting wet dream he had ever had in his life. He hadn't even had time to administer to himself, when his man muscle just exploded on its own with the help of his fantasy. Now completely drained of his "problem" and feeling exhausted, he headed to his rack, wondering if his fantasy would return for a repeat DSB draining dream.
The morning brought their departure from the Seahawk, along with the Unceremonious Winging ceremony and their good-byes to the Captain and the CAG. Harm realized that escorting the accused, the bereaved husband, Kate and an all-too-real nasty memory, was going to make this one of the longest trips home he had ever undertaken. Hopefully his all too eager man muscle wouldn't betray him or make the flight too uncomfortable. He smiled at the possibility - or even worse, he should fall asleep on the flight, and have a repeat performance of the shower episode and discolor his pants.
Chapter 2 will follow