How the Faithful Have Fallen
By: Anand Rao
------------------------------------
A/N: This is based on the *preview* and kip-given spoilers of the S8 Christmas Episode, 'All Ye Faithful'. Yes, I've written an episode reaction story without seeing the episode. How sad can I get?
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Two men stood in front of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall on a this cold December night. For the younger man, visiting the Wall was an annual tradition; one he usually practiced alone. On this particular night, however, a friend, mentor, and a often difficult client named Tom Boone joined him.
Tom sighed. "Your father and I used to talk about the future. About how we'd be old and gray, sitting on a porch somewhere watching our grandchildren play in the front yard." He hung his head slightly, looking down at the fallen snow. "Sometimes life just doesn't work out the way you plan it."
"Amen to that, Sir," Harm ruefully replied.
Tom looked at the young man who was the spitting image of the best friend he'd ever had. "Call me Tom, Commander. I'm not in the Navy anymore, remember? Besides, your dad and I were almost like brothers."
Harm shook his head. "I don't think I could ever do that, Sir." A sly grin grew on his face. "And somehow, 'Uncle Tommy' doesn't sound right either."
"You call me 'Uncle' anything and I going to knock you on your ass so hard you'll feel it next Christmas!"
Harm stifled a laugh. "Yes, Sir."
Tom sighed once more and stared at the Wall. "You ever think about your future, Harm?"
"These days, I try not to." The humor had left his voice and Tom noticed immediately. He turned towards the younger man quickly.
"Problems at JAG? Or. . . elsewhere?" he asked.
Harm shrugged his shoulders. "Take your pick."
Self-pity was not a trait Tom Boone admired. "What's going on, Commander? Not seeing Admiral stars in your future?" He asked sternly.
"I don't even see Captain's eagles in my future, Sir," Harm admitted.
"Not thinking of retiring, are you? Of course, you could probably make more money than Chegwidden if you went private."
Harm shook his head. "The Navy is my life, Sir. It's just. . . Admiral Chegwidden has been alluding to the fact that certain characteristics of my personality don't lend themselves well to a Command position."
"What are you talking about, Harm?"
"I have trouble being objective. I follow my instincts and my emotions; wherever they may lead me." The admission was a difficult one for Harm to make. Yet, ever since he had been 'severed' from one case and passed up to judge another one, he had been doubting his ability to move forward in his career.
Tom thought about what Harm had said for a moment, and then slowly nodded his head. "I could see where that could be a problem in an administrative position," he allowed. He turned towards the younger man and put his hand on his shoulder. "But let me tell you something. You would have made one hell of a CAG; and your dad would have been proud of you."
Harm felt better than he had in months, but his joy was bittersweet. "That's the problem, Sir. Every fiber of my being tells me that I should be a pilot. Nothing else." He paused. "It's really hard sometimes, to be a lawyer."
"I can only imagine. But the fact is, you *are* a lawyer. And a damn good one. You're going to have to let go of your regret, Harm. You can't live thinking about 'what might have been', otherwise you're going to end up a lonely old man, like me."
Harm looked startled. "I'm sorry, Sir! I didn't know that you-"
Tom waved him off. "I'm not feeling sorry for myself, Harm. But I do have a few regrets. Never settling down and getting married is one of them."
"Well, I'm not doing so hot in that department either," Harm quietly replied.
"And whose fault is that?" Tom asked flatly.
Harm shook his self-deprecatingly. "Mine. Just mine."
"Exactly." Tom nodded his head firm. "You've been sitting on your ass, here in Washington D.C. for almost ten years now."
"Hey! There's quite a bit I've had to do!" Harm protested. "It wasn't easy starting all over at JAG."
"But you did it. Can it be that much harder to gain a little objectivity at work? Can it be that much harder to find a woman to love? Or," Tom took a deep breath, "open up to the woman you love?"
Harm tried to deny it. "What? I'm not in love-"
"Don't bullshit me now, Son." Tom's voice was harsh and soft.
Harm swallowed back his retort and nodded his head in acceptance. "Yeah. . . okay."
"Let me ask you a hypothetical question: If you were allowed to go back to fleet, today, as an active pilot, would you do it?"
"I'm too old, Sir. You know that."
Tom shook his head impatiently. "Forget about that for a moment. Say that they offered to make you a CAG and your age and flight time didn't matter. Would you take it then?"
The answer didn't come as easily as Harm thought it would. "I. . . don't know."
"Why not? You just said it was hard being a lawyer. That everything in you wanted to be a pilot."
"I know. But to leave JAG. To leave. . ." Harm shook his head.
"Why would it be so hard to leave?" Tom's voice was surprisingly gentle.
Harm remained silent, his inner turmoil growing.
Tom turned away from the Wall. "I'm done spending time with your dad tonight, Harm." He slowly walked away but parted with a final comment. "Do what you need to do, or next time I see you, I *will* kick your ass. Merry Christmas, Commander."
Harm managed a weak smile. "Merry Christmas, Admiral."
***************************
The knock on her door surprised Mac, but it didn't wake her. She was far too wide-awake to even hope of getting to sleep. The fear created by Harm's troubled flight back home had brought back some memories of the previous year. Memories of his brief loss at sea, his recuperation, and her failed wedding attempt had flooded her all day.
She opened the door, and her surprise turned to confused joy. "Harm! What are you doing here?" Snow dusted his shoulders and cover, and to Mac, it was obvious that he had just returned from the Wall.
"Did I. . . wake you?" he asked awkwardly.
"No! Not at all. Please come in," she replied easily. "Is something wrong?"
He removed his cover and stepped into her apartment. "I'm not sure how to answer that." Harm walked around her living room, looking at her Christmas tree and assorted decorations. He wandered rather aimlessly, looking anywhere but at her. "Have you ever thought about doing something that would just. . . change everything. But you didn't know if the change would be good or bad?"
"Once or twice." She stepped in front of him and grabbed hold of his hands. "What's wrong, Harm? You're not going back to flying, are you?" she asked lightly.
He looked at her then, his face a mask of panic. "No! Not. . . not all!" He replied vehemently.
"Harm, relax! I was just kidding. Really, what's bothering you?"
He licked his lips nervously. "Mac, for years now, I've been less than complete; less than happy. I. . . thought it was flying. It was all I ever wanted. More than anything or anyone." He glanced at her apologetically and ducked his head. "But that change somehow. I don't really know when it happened, but I denied it for so long. . . until tonight."
Mac dared to hope that she knew where Harm was going with this. "Denied what, Harm?" She asked softly.
Harm took a deep breath. "Sarah. . . I love you."
Before she could even process a response, he put two fingers on her lips and continued. "I know, that at one time, a part of you loved me too. I could never figure out why. As messed up as I am, as many obsessions as I have, I never figured out why you stood by me." Harm closed his eyes. "And God. . . all I wanted was not to lose you." His voice cracked then, and he paused to take another breath. "And. . . if I can never be anything but a friend to you, I just. . . had to let you know. I had to open my heart to you, as you once did to me." He opened his eyes and his hand dropped to his side. "It's the only way I could let go," he finished quietly.
Mac gently reached for him, her hand cradling the side of his face. "Oh Harm. . ." She held back her tears, for once they started, she wouldn't be able to stop them. "The part of me that loved you then, loves you now." She gently forced him to look at her. They stared at each other for one painful moment, and then Mac leaned forward and kissed him.
Harm hugged her tightly, as if afraid she might suddenly disappear. He broke off the kiss and touched her forehead with his. "I realized tonight, that I don't need anything else. Only you, Sarah."
"This feels like a dream, Harm." This time, the tears did flow. "I've wanted this for so long. I never thought. . ."
Harm initiated their next kiss, wordlessly telling her that this time, he wasn't going to back away. Mac sighed in contentment as the kiss ended, confident in the fact that there would be plenty more in her immediate future. "Not that I'm complaining, but what brought all this on tonight?"
"A conversation I had with Admiral Boone," Harm admitted.
"Remind me to put him on my Christmas list next year," Mac replied happily.
Harm just leaned in for another kiss and sent a silent prayer of thanks to his father for having a best friend who, after thirty years, still looked out for his family.
The night was filled with Christmas kisses for the new couple, who would from that night onward, always look to the future with joy and hope.
*************
The End
By: Anand Rao
------------------------------------
A/N: This is based on the *preview* and kip-given spoilers of the S8 Christmas Episode, 'All Ye Faithful'. Yes, I've written an episode reaction story without seeing the episode. How sad can I get?
--------
Two men stood in front of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall on a this cold December night. For the younger man, visiting the Wall was an annual tradition; one he usually practiced alone. On this particular night, however, a friend, mentor, and a often difficult client named Tom Boone joined him.
Tom sighed. "Your father and I used to talk about the future. About how we'd be old and gray, sitting on a porch somewhere watching our grandchildren play in the front yard." He hung his head slightly, looking down at the fallen snow. "Sometimes life just doesn't work out the way you plan it."
"Amen to that, Sir," Harm ruefully replied.
Tom looked at the young man who was the spitting image of the best friend he'd ever had. "Call me Tom, Commander. I'm not in the Navy anymore, remember? Besides, your dad and I were almost like brothers."
Harm shook his head. "I don't think I could ever do that, Sir." A sly grin grew on his face. "And somehow, 'Uncle Tommy' doesn't sound right either."
"You call me 'Uncle' anything and I going to knock you on your ass so hard you'll feel it next Christmas!"
Harm stifled a laugh. "Yes, Sir."
Tom sighed once more and stared at the Wall. "You ever think about your future, Harm?"
"These days, I try not to." The humor had left his voice and Tom noticed immediately. He turned towards the younger man quickly.
"Problems at JAG? Or. . . elsewhere?" he asked.
Harm shrugged his shoulders. "Take your pick."
Self-pity was not a trait Tom Boone admired. "What's going on, Commander? Not seeing Admiral stars in your future?" He asked sternly.
"I don't even see Captain's eagles in my future, Sir," Harm admitted.
"Not thinking of retiring, are you? Of course, you could probably make more money than Chegwidden if you went private."
Harm shook his head. "The Navy is my life, Sir. It's just. . . Admiral Chegwidden has been alluding to the fact that certain characteristics of my personality don't lend themselves well to a Command position."
"What are you talking about, Harm?"
"I have trouble being objective. I follow my instincts and my emotions; wherever they may lead me." The admission was a difficult one for Harm to make. Yet, ever since he had been 'severed' from one case and passed up to judge another one, he had been doubting his ability to move forward in his career.
Tom thought about what Harm had said for a moment, and then slowly nodded his head. "I could see where that could be a problem in an administrative position," he allowed. He turned towards the younger man and put his hand on his shoulder. "But let me tell you something. You would have made one hell of a CAG; and your dad would have been proud of you."
Harm felt better than he had in months, but his joy was bittersweet. "That's the problem, Sir. Every fiber of my being tells me that I should be a pilot. Nothing else." He paused. "It's really hard sometimes, to be a lawyer."
"I can only imagine. But the fact is, you *are* a lawyer. And a damn good one. You're going to have to let go of your regret, Harm. You can't live thinking about 'what might have been', otherwise you're going to end up a lonely old man, like me."
Harm looked startled. "I'm sorry, Sir! I didn't know that you-"
Tom waved him off. "I'm not feeling sorry for myself, Harm. But I do have a few regrets. Never settling down and getting married is one of them."
"Well, I'm not doing so hot in that department either," Harm quietly replied.
"And whose fault is that?" Tom asked flatly.
Harm shook his self-deprecatingly. "Mine. Just mine."
"Exactly." Tom nodded his head firm. "You've been sitting on your ass, here in Washington D.C. for almost ten years now."
"Hey! There's quite a bit I've had to do!" Harm protested. "It wasn't easy starting all over at JAG."
"But you did it. Can it be that much harder to gain a little objectivity at work? Can it be that much harder to find a woman to love? Or," Tom took a deep breath, "open up to the woman you love?"
Harm tried to deny it. "What? I'm not in love-"
"Don't bullshit me now, Son." Tom's voice was harsh and soft.
Harm swallowed back his retort and nodded his head in acceptance. "Yeah. . . okay."
"Let me ask you a hypothetical question: If you were allowed to go back to fleet, today, as an active pilot, would you do it?"
"I'm too old, Sir. You know that."
Tom shook his head impatiently. "Forget about that for a moment. Say that they offered to make you a CAG and your age and flight time didn't matter. Would you take it then?"
The answer didn't come as easily as Harm thought it would. "I. . . don't know."
"Why not? You just said it was hard being a lawyer. That everything in you wanted to be a pilot."
"I know. But to leave JAG. To leave. . ." Harm shook his head.
"Why would it be so hard to leave?" Tom's voice was surprisingly gentle.
Harm remained silent, his inner turmoil growing.
Tom turned away from the Wall. "I'm done spending time with your dad tonight, Harm." He slowly walked away but parted with a final comment. "Do what you need to do, or next time I see you, I *will* kick your ass. Merry Christmas, Commander."
Harm managed a weak smile. "Merry Christmas, Admiral."
***************************
The knock on her door surprised Mac, but it didn't wake her. She was far too wide-awake to even hope of getting to sleep. The fear created by Harm's troubled flight back home had brought back some memories of the previous year. Memories of his brief loss at sea, his recuperation, and her failed wedding attempt had flooded her all day.
She opened the door, and her surprise turned to confused joy. "Harm! What are you doing here?" Snow dusted his shoulders and cover, and to Mac, it was obvious that he had just returned from the Wall.
"Did I. . . wake you?" he asked awkwardly.
"No! Not at all. Please come in," she replied easily. "Is something wrong?"
He removed his cover and stepped into her apartment. "I'm not sure how to answer that." Harm walked around her living room, looking at her Christmas tree and assorted decorations. He wandered rather aimlessly, looking anywhere but at her. "Have you ever thought about doing something that would just. . . change everything. But you didn't know if the change would be good or bad?"
"Once or twice." She stepped in front of him and grabbed hold of his hands. "What's wrong, Harm? You're not going back to flying, are you?" she asked lightly.
He looked at her then, his face a mask of panic. "No! Not. . . not all!" He replied vehemently.
"Harm, relax! I was just kidding. Really, what's bothering you?"
He licked his lips nervously. "Mac, for years now, I've been less than complete; less than happy. I. . . thought it was flying. It was all I ever wanted. More than anything or anyone." He glanced at her apologetically and ducked his head. "But that change somehow. I don't really know when it happened, but I denied it for so long. . . until tonight."
Mac dared to hope that she knew where Harm was going with this. "Denied what, Harm?" She asked softly.
Harm took a deep breath. "Sarah. . . I love you."
Before she could even process a response, he put two fingers on her lips and continued. "I know, that at one time, a part of you loved me too. I could never figure out why. As messed up as I am, as many obsessions as I have, I never figured out why you stood by me." Harm closed his eyes. "And God. . . all I wanted was not to lose you." His voice cracked then, and he paused to take another breath. "And. . . if I can never be anything but a friend to you, I just. . . had to let you know. I had to open my heart to you, as you once did to me." He opened his eyes and his hand dropped to his side. "It's the only way I could let go," he finished quietly.
Mac gently reached for him, her hand cradling the side of his face. "Oh Harm. . ." She held back her tears, for once they started, she wouldn't be able to stop them. "The part of me that loved you then, loves you now." She gently forced him to look at her. They stared at each other for one painful moment, and then Mac leaned forward and kissed him.
Harm hugged her tightly, as if afraid she might suddenly disappear. He broke off the kiss and touched her forehead with his. "I realized tonight, that I don't need anything else. Only you, Sarah."
"This feels like a dream, Harm." This time, the tears did flow. "I've wanted this for so long. I never thought. . ."
Harm initiated their next kiss, wordlessly telling her that this time, he wasn't going to back away. Mac sighed in contentment as the kiss ended, confident in the fact that there would be plenty more in her immediate future. "Not that I'm complaining, but what brought all this on tonight?"
"A conversation I had with Admiral Boone," Harm admitted.
"Remind me to put him on my Christmas list next year," Mac replied happily.
Harm just leaned in for another kiss and sent a silent prayer of thanks to his father for having a best friend who, after thirty years, still looked out for his family.
The night was filled with Christmas kisses for the new couple, who would from that night onward, always look to the future with joy and hope.
*************
The End