Route 64 East
Between Richmond and Williamsburg 1:45 EST, The day of . . .
As Harm continued the drive towards Norfolk, his mind kept dragging him back to the images of his dreams over the past three nights.
Not that he hadn't tried thinking of other things, lots of other things: the Cowardin case, Sergei, the issue of Bud's status in the Navy, how to avoid flying with Meredith again in Sarah, coming up with a way to put one over on Sturgis, buying something for his mother at one of the Williamsburg shops, . . .
No matter how he tried to focus on any of these pressing matters, within minutes he was thinking about the dreams again, trying to figure out some kind of meaning.
//Face it, you love a puzzle. Why fight it? Maybe actually thinking about the dreams might at least make them stop feeling so damn urgent.//
Harm took a breath as he reviewed the images that had haunted his sleep:
//a burning fireball of an explosion; smoke, thick and acrid, swirling around him as he lay on a hard floor; a curving, spiral staircase rising up into a blurry, milky brightness; hearing himself calling Mac's name, over and over again; looking at Mac's Little Sister, Chloe, over the top one of those old "Battleship" game sets//
Setting his mind to the task, the JAG lawyer looked for something to give the images cohesion and meaning. Was there a pattern? What linked each image with the other? Did they tell a story? Did they symbolize something else?
Try as he might, Harm couldn't find a logical or reasonable meaning for his dreams.
//This is Mac's territory - she's the one who deals in intuition and bizarre visions! I have no talent for this extrasensory perception crap.//
Mac. . the happy prospect of seeing her again chased away his frustration. He missed his friend and partner. This longer time of separation felt uncomfortably like the time she had been TAD while he was recovering from his rescue at sea.
//This time was different,// he reminded himself. //There would be no awkward period of reacquaintance, no issue of Mic Brumby, no issue of Renee. . .This time he and Mac were picking up the strong bonds of friendship right where they had left them.//
His mood picking up even more, Harm noticed that he had already passed through Williamsburg and was closing in on Norfolk. He remembered Tyner's comment and decided to give Christiana Campbell's Tavern a try. Using his cell phone, he made a reservation for 6 PM - taking into account the odds and ends that had to be taken care of when a ship came into port and the crew disembarked. Dinner at 6 o'clock would mean they would have to leave Norfolk no later that 5; not that that would be a problem for his ever- punctual Marine.
Harm didn't even notice that in his innermost thoughts, Sarah MacKenzie had become "his" Marine. His mind had already jumped ahead to the thought of enjoying the look on her face when she saw him among the crowd that would be waiting for their own loved ones to leave the ship.
Mac wasn't taken unawares easily, not counting the time or two he had sandbagged her in the courtroom. Wincing at the memory of her anger in those moments, he grinned to himself about the more positive surprise he'd give her this afternoon.
Poor Harm! He could never have guessed the horrible event that would surprise them both and change everything between them forever.
TBC
p.s. does anyone notice what I'm trying to do with the dream images? It would help me out if you could leave a note in your review. Thanx!
Between Richmond and Williamsburg 1:45 EST, The day of . . .
As Harm continued the drive towards Norfolk, his mind kept dragging him back to the images of his dreams over the past three nights.
Not that he hadn't tried thinking of other things, lots of other things: the Cowardin case, Sergei, the issue of Bud's status in the Navy, how to avoid flying with Meredith again in Sarah, coming up with a way to put one over on Sturgis, buying something for his mother at one of the Williamsburg shops, . . .
No matter how he tried to focus on any of these pressing matters, within minutes he was thinking about the dreams again, trying to figure out some kind of meaning.
//Face it, you love a puzzle. Why fight it? Maybe actually thinking about the dreams might at least make them stop feeling so damn urgent.//
Harm took a breath as he reviewed the images that had haunted his sleep:
//a burning fireball of an explosion; smoke, thick and acrid, swirling around him as he lay on a hard floor; a curving, spiral staircase rising up into a blurry, milky brightness; hearing himself calling Mac's name, over and over again; looking at Mac's Little Sister, Chloe, over the top one of those old "Battleship" game sets//
Setting his mind to the task, the JAG lawyer looked for something to give the images cohesion and meaning. Was there a pattern? What linked each image with the other? Did they tell a story? Did they symbolize something else?
Try as he might, Harm couldn't find a logical or reasonable meaning for his dreams.
//This is Mac's territory - she's the one who deals in intuition and bizarre visions! I have no talent for this extrasensory perception crap.//
Mac. . the happy prospect of seeing her again chased away his frustration. He missed his friend and partner. This longer time of separation felt uncomfortably like the time she had been TAD while he was recovering from his rescue at sea.
//This time was different,// he reminded himself. //There would be no awkward period of reacquaintance, no issue of Mic Brumby, no issue of Renee. . .This time he and Mac were picking up the strong bonds of friendship right where they had left them.//
His mood picking up even more, Harm noticed that he had already passed through Williamsburg and was closing in on Norfolk. He remembered Tyner's comment and decided to give Christiana Campbell's Tavern a try. Using his cell phone, he made a reservation for 6 PM - taking into account the odds and ends that had to be taken care of when a ship came into port and the crew disembarked. Dinner at 6 o'clock would mean they would have to leave Norfolk no later that 5; not that that would be a problem for his ever- punctual Marine.
Harm didn't even notice that in his innermost thoughts, Sarah MacKenzie had become "his" Marine. His mind had already jumped ahead to the thought of enjoying the look on her face when she saw him among the crowd that would be waiting for their own loved ones to leave the ship.
Mac wasn't taken unawares easily, not counting the time or two he had sandbagged her in the courtroom. Wincing at the memory of her anger in those moments, he grinned to himself about the more positive surprise he'd give her this afternoon.
Poor Harm! He could never have guessed the horrible event that would surprise them both and change everything between them forever.
TBC
p.s. does anyone notice what I'm trying to do with the dream images? It would help me out if you could leave a note in your review. Thanx!