1313 ZULU
JAG HQ
Falls Church, VA
"Morning, Mac," Sturgis says as I enter the break room.
"What's good about it?" I mutter. I spent the last several hours mulling over the behavior of that infuriating bastard of a partner of mine.
"I didn't say that it was." Sturgis takes a sip of his coffee. "Is something wrong?"
"No, why would something be wrong?" I sneer.
"You seem kind of tense."
"Hmph."
"Uh-oh," Sturgis says worriedly.
"What?"
"Did you find out that Harm's not going to take you to the Superbowl?" He actually sounds upset for me.
"I've got news for you Sturgis. Harm's not going to take either of us to the Superbowl," I state flatly.
"What?"
"Yeah, those primo seats he has? They're in the cockpit of an F-14."
"Cool." I shoot Sturgis a look that would melt glass. He adopts a more neutral expression. "So?"
"So?"
"You get to see the Superbowl in style, Colonel. Well, relatively speaking. I mean, you won't get to see the game, but you can listen to it. And Harm taking you up in his plane…"
"Oh, Harm knows very damn well that I get sick to my stomach in his precious Tomcat," I spit out.
"Really? A marine like you?" Sturgis asks. I shoot him another withering glare and he wisely shuts up.
"He just…he just…" I seethe. I don't know what he just. "He just must think I'm some sort of pathetic…thgfft…" I can't even twist my lips around any coherent words or thoughts.
"Oh, I think Harm thinks very highly of you." Sturgis replies mildly. "He says you're his RIO."
"Skates is his RIO."
"Skates is his RIO in his tomcat, but you're his RIO in his life."
"He said that?"
"Yes."
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
I don't want to admit it to myself, but I think I have just been paid one of the very highest compliments that Harmon Rabb could bestow.
Vicariously, of course.
*********
2306 ZULU
NAS
Pax River
I'm running late as usual, but I slow my steps anyway. Mac's waiting for me on the tarmac, still dressed in uniform. She's been avoiding me all day, with exception to a few curt 'Commander's uttered here and there.
I stroll up to her, trying desperately to think of something to say without screwing things up even more. That's a lost cause with me, and I know it. The gift of eloquent prose with Mac is something that is beyond my capabilities as lawyer and human being. Fortunately she speaks first.
"Sturgis told me something interesting today," she says with little preamble. I'm not sure what to say, and she doesn't seem to expect a response from me, thankfully.
"He said you told him I was the RIO in your life. You want to tell me what that means." She crosses her arms over her chest and waits.
Great. So she did manage to weasel some of our Vermont conversation out of Sturgis. Fortunately, I may be able to save our friendship with this, so I hold off on killing Sturgis for a while longer.
"Just that…you are." Great. Brilliant, Rabb. "Like Skates is right there behind me," I hurry on, "watching my six, helping me stay in the air, making me a good pilot, a better pilot. She's essential to a tomcat pilot's effectiveness. All RIOs are. You…you do the same sort of things. You're always there behind me, beside me, watching my six, helping me stay sane, making me a better lawyer, a better officer, a better friend. You're essential to my life…" I trail off. This is a lousy explanation. She's got tears in her eyes again. I need to say something…something more heartfelt.
"Mac," I change tactics, "I know none of this makes up for what I did, but, please--"
"Stop."
I do and stare helplessly at her. My super day and super flight is rapidly super-sucking.
She composes herself after a few minutes, but her hiccups give her away.
"It's kind of funny," she says, and even laughs a little. I manage a tiny smile myself. "You're sort of like the pilot in my life." She laughs even more now. "Literally, and figuratively," She qualifies. "We're quite a pair."
"We're a team," I say. Much like a pilot and RIO, I think. She seems to hear that, and nods.
"We're more than that."
I stare at her, trying to decipher the exact meaning behind those words. She looks at me without expression. I risk a glance at my watch. I'm really late now. I look at Mac.
"Go."
I know she's still upset with me. I don't want to leave things like this, but I'm not sure what to say or do that will make things better.
"I'm sorry," I offer. She looks down and nods. I still can't make out what she's feeling. I pick up my bag and walk away.
"Harm?"
I turn around, surprised to find her so close to me already. She must have started following as soon as I turned away. She bites her lip nervously, as though she's not sure what to say. Then she stands up on tiptoe, places her hands on my shoulders and gives me a kiss on the lips. Not long, deep, and passionate, but a nice lip lock that fits snugly between the confines of "just friends" and "lovers."
"Good luck flyboy," she whispers. She places her heels back on the ground. "Enjoy yourself," she adds, smiling at me, her eyes still a little moist.
I feel a twinge of hope flutter deep in my stomach. "I wish you were going," I say wistfully.
"So do I," She agrees.
"You still ca—"
"No. I'd never get to enjoy it, and I sincerely doubt you want to hear me retching and moaning the whole time you're in the air."
I hear a discreet cough and glance up. A petty officer taps his watch worriedly. I look at Mac.
"I'm really sorry about all this," I say again. She shakes her head and gives me another kiss on the lips, this one longer than the first, her fingers on my cheeks before she slides them up into my hair. I drop my bag and sweep her up in my arms. We stay like that for some time before the need for air breaks us apart.
I place an impulsive kiss on her nose. She sighs contentedly. Then she smiles devilishly at me and runs her index finger over my wings.
"You'll think 'sorry' when you get back." She flashes another evil smile and walks away.
THE END
Well, sorta. I left this open because I'd like to continue it one of these days. Hope you all enjoyed it! I had a great time writing it!
JAG HQ
Falls Church, VA
"Morning, Mac," Sturgis says as I enter the break room.
"What's good about it?" I mutter. I spent the last several hours mulling over the behavior of that infuriating bastard of a partner of mine.
"I didn't say that it was." Sturgis takes a sip of his coffee. "Is something wrong?"
"No, why would something be wrong?" I sneer.
"You seem kind of tense."
"Hmph."
"Uh-oh," Sturgis says worriedly.
"What?"
"Did you find out that Harm's not going to take you to the Superbowl?" He actually sounds upset for me.
"I've got news for you Sturgis. Harm's not going to take either of us to the Superbowl," I state flatly.
"What?"
"Yeah, those primo seats he has? They're in the cockpit of an F-14."
"Cool." I shoot Sturgis a look that would melt glass. He adopts a more neutral expression. "So?"
"So?"
"You get to see the Superbowl in style, Colonel. Well, relatively speaking. I mean, you won't get to see the game, but you can listen to it. And Harm taking you up in his plane…"
"Oh, Harm knows very damn well that I get sick to my stomach in his precious Tomcat," I spit out.
"Really? A marine like you?" Sturgis asks. I shoot him another withering glare and he wisely shuts up.
"He just…he just…" I seethe. I don't know what he just. "He just must think I'm some sort of pathetic…thgfft…" I can't even twist my lips around any coherent words or thoughts.
"Oh, I think Harm thinks very highly of you." Sturgis replies mildly. "He says you're his RIO."
"Skates is his RIO."
"Skates is his RIO in his tomcat, but you're his RIO in his life."
"He said that?"
"Yes."
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
I don't want to admit it to myself, but I think I have just been paid one of the very highest compliments that Harmon Rabb could bestow.
Vicariously, of course.
*********
2306 ZULU
NAS
Pax River
I'm running late as usual, but I slow my steps anyway. Mac's waiting for me on the tarmac, still dressed in uniform. She's been avoiding me all day, with exception to a few curt 'Commander's uttered here and there.
I stroll up to her, trying desperately to think of something to say without screwing things up even more. That's a lost cause with me, and I know it. The gift of eloquent prose with Mac is something that is beyond my capabilities as lawyer and human being. Fortunately she speaks first.
"Sturgis told me something interesting today," she says with little preamble. I'm not sure what to say, and she doesn't seem to expect a response from me, thankfully.
"He said you told him I was the RIO in your life. You want to tell me what that means." She crosses her arms over her chest and waits.
Great. So she did manage to weasel some of our Vermont conversation out of Sturgis. Fortunately, I may be able to save our friendship with this, so I hold off on killing Sturgis for a while longer.
"Just that…you are." Great. Brilliant, Rabb. "Like Skates is right there behind me," I hurry on, "watching my six, helping me stay in the air, making me a good pilot, a better pilot. She's essential to a tomcat pilot's effectiveness. All RIOs are. You…you do the same sort of things. You're always there behind me, beside me, watching my six, helping me stay sane, making me a better lawyer, a better officer, a better friend. You're essential to my life…" I trail off. This is a lousy explanation. She's got tears in her eyes again. I need to say something…something more heartfelt.
"Mac," I change tactics, "I know none of this makes up for what I did, but, please--"
"Stop."
I do and stare helplessly at her. My super day and super flight is rapidly super-sucking.
She composes herself after a few minutes, but her hiccups give her away.
"It's kind of funny," she says, and even laughs a little. I manage a tiny smile myself. "You're sort of like the pilot in my life." She laughs even more now. "Literally, and figuratively," She qualifies. "We're quite a pair."
"We're a team," I say. Much like a pilot and RIO, I think. She seems to hear that, and nods.
"We're more than that."
I stare at her, trying to decipher the exact meaning behind those words. She looks at me without expression. I risk a glance at my watch. I'm really late now. I look at Mac.
"Go."
I know she's still upset with me. I don't want to leave things like this, but I'm not sure what to say or do that will make things better.
"I'm sorry," I offer. She looks down and nods. I still can't make out what she's feeling. I pick up my bag and walk away.
"Harm?"
I turn around, surprised to find her so close to me already. She must have started following as soon as I turned away. She bites her lip nervously, as though she's not sure what to say. Then she stands up on tiptoe, places her hands on my shoulders and gives me a kiss on the lips. Not long, deep, and passionate, but a nice lip lock that fits snugly between the confines of "just friends" and "lovers."
"Good luck flyboy," she whispers. She places her heels back on the ground. "Enjoy yourself," she adds, smiling at me, her eyes still a little moist.
I feel a twinge of hope flutter deep in my stomach. "I wish you were going," I say wistfully.
"So do I," She agrees.
"You still ca—"
"No. I'd never get to enjoy it, and I sincerely doubt you want to hear me retching and moaning the whole time you're in the air."
I hear a discreet cough and glance up. A petty officer taps his watch worriedly. I look at Mac.
"I'm really sorry about all this," I say again. She shakes her head and gives me another kiss on the lips, this one longer than the first, her fingers on my cheeks before she slides them up into my hair. I drop my bag and sweep her up in my arms. We stay like that for some time before the need for air breaks us apart.
I place an impulsive kiss on her nose. She sighs contentedly. Then she smiles devilishly at me and runs her index finger over my wings.
"You'll think 'sorry' when you get back." She flashes another evil smile and walks away.
THE END
Well, sorta. I left this open because I'd like to continue it one of these days. Hope you all enjoyed it! I had a great time writing it!