Thanks to Jessi for doing Harm during parts 1 & 3. Lizzie Farrow is
April's own creation; everyone else belongs to DPB and JAGPTB.
Old Friends
Meg Austin looked around. So many faces had changed, but it had been seven years since she'd been back in Washington. It had even been four years since she'd talked to Harm. She needed his help on this; he was the only one she trusted to help her. She found his office and knocked on the open doorway. Harm looked up from his substantial pile of paperwork and his brow furrowed. "Meg?" He blinked. "What are you doing here? I…It's been awhile." His brow smoothed and his face melted into an easy smile. "Come in."
She came in and sat down, running her hand through her short blonde hair. "I know. I'm sorry. I should have called. It just seemed every time you did, I wasn't home and every time I did, you weren't." She smiled slightly. "How are you? How's Mac?"
"I'm doing fine and Mac…well, Mac is Mac." He grinned. "Don't worry about the short notice. The excitement of Navy life is what I live for. What fun would it be if I always knew who'd be walking through that door?" Motioning toward her, he asked, "So what about you? How have you been?"
"Good. Really good, actually." She paused, unsure how he would react. "Harm…when I left, I wasn't exactly honest with you."
His brow furrowed again. "How so?" He asked, though he wasn't sure he really wanted to know. Her cryptic admission had caused a small knot to form in the pit of his stomach.
"I did go to Italy, but not for JAG." She paused, got up, and closed the door before returning to her seat. "I'm in the CIA. I have been for the last seven years. I know how you reacted when I was shot and…I just wasn't sure how you'd react if I told you the truth."
He opened his mouth to reply twice and each time nothing came out. Meg in the CIA? He was blown away. "I don't know what to say, Meg…" He shook his head slightly as if to clear the fuzz from his brain and then went on. "You were probably right not to tell me though. It bothers me that you felt you couldn't, but I honestly can't say how I would've reacted back then."
She nodded. "And now?"
"Now…now, I would have to say that I don't have a very high opinion for all CIA officials and that how I react to your news will greatly depend on what it is you want from me. I'll help you if I can, Meg, but I'm not promising anything until I know what's brought you back here after all these years."
"I do need help." She paused. "Between Webb being hurt and my taking over for him, I lost an agent, a Marine captain, daughter of a Marine colonel. Harm, I can't leave her down there. I've got three on my team already, one of the two best pilots I know, a Marine, and myself."
"And you want me?" His eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Meg, this isn't something I can just decide to do or not do. I have orders…you'd have to clear it with the Admiral before I could even consider saying yes."
"Already done. He said that it was up to you."
"Oh," Harm looked a bit stunned. "Well, in that case…I guess it's an offer I can't refuse. I did say that I was in the Navy for the excitement, right? How soon will we leave?"
"We meet the pilot in half an hour."
He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "Ah," he laughed, "I missed you, Meg."
She grinned. "I missed you too, Harm." She paused. "You need to tell Mac where you're going?"
Harm sighed, knowing that this would not be a pleasant conversation. "Yeah, you might want to tell me where to meet you because this may take awhile. She was on her way out earlier, I only hope I can catch her before she leaves." *****
John Farrow paced in his living room. It was funny: he'd bought this big house because he'd always wanted Lizzie to come home, he'd always wanted grandchildren. He wanted room to be himself, not some carbon copy of what anyone, his commanding officers or the press, thought a Marine should be. Now the house seemed too busy, echoing, hollow. Lizzie's room had been empty for two years, but today it was as if the ghost of her childhood was there, which was ridiculous because he hadn't lived there when she was little. He was the one to blame for her being a Marine; with her mother dead, it was what he'd raised her as, another one of his men, to be protected as well as he could, but also to follow orders. He loved his only daughter, but he had never really understood her. He almost smiled as he thought of Mac's words each time he told her that. She always replied that he should have understood Lizzie better, she was a carbon copy of himself. He personally thought she was more like Mac, the closest thing to a mother she'd ever had. He'd called that morning, asking her to come to Quantico, and he'd left orders at the base for her to come there. Work had saved him after Lilian's death and then again each time Mac left his life, but he couldn't work now. He was old and suddenly he was very tired. He wanted to look for Lizzie and, after he found her, he would retire. Where was Mac? He needed her. She had always managed to take care of Lizzie, take care of everything. Sarah MacKenzie stood in front of John Farrow's front door, one hand raised to knock; however, she couldn't quite bring herself to move her arm in the forward and back motion that would signal her arrival. She had no idea what he could possibly want with her after all this time and she felt more than just a little guilty for ducking out without telling Harm where she was going. She reasoned that she would never know what John wanted until she talked to him though and, against her better judgment, she knocked two sharp raps on the door. He opened the door, unable to believe that she was really there. "Come in. Thanks for coming. I hope it didn't cause problems." He knew Chegwidden had finally forgiven her for the affair, but he didn't know about Harm. He was glad to see that at least the commander had kept his promise and taken care of Mac for him.
Mac stepped inside, glancing around quickly at the interior of his home. In all the time they'd been...together, she'd never seen his house. They'd always met places and gone away together. Even his daughter had gone away with them from time to time. She wondered how Lizzie was these days. "It was no trouble at all," she managed. "Though I must say I'm intrigued...why did you call after all this time? It sounded important over the phone." She looked at him expectantly.
His voice faltered as he spoke and he sounded and looked his age. "When's the last time you spoke to Lizzie?"
She was a bit thrown since she had just been thinking of his daughter and she was the last person Mac had expected him to ask about. "Uh...a few months ago, I guess. I got a birthday card from her and I called to thank her. She wasn't in, but I was touched that she still thinks of me. Why?"
In other circumstances, he would have smiled. It sounded like Lizzie. Mac hung the moon as far as she was concerned and, as a female Marine officer, she wanted to be just like her, except for a few minor details. "She decided she'd had enough sitting around bases. I had almost convinced her to go to law school too, anywhere out of the line of fire. Then 9/11...I couldn't stop her. You know how she got. She had an idea in her head and she just went with it." His voice was shaking again. "She put her RECON skills to work and joined the CIA."
Mac's eyes widened. That Lizzie had come up with the idea didn't surprise her as much as that she had followed through with it. John could be pretty convincing when he didn't want something to go a certain way, although if Lizzie had gotten half of her father's skills of persuasion then she was probably pretty tough to dissuade herself. Dreading the answer, Mac asked, "What happened?"
"She met a man in Afghanistan, a gunnery sergeant. After she swore up and down that she'd never get involved in fraternization...she ended up in Paraguay with him. He's in the CIA too. The last thing I heard from her, she was resting, after finishing a mission," Being damned near killed was more like it, "and he was starting one, with this idiot Webb." He paused; the next part was the hardest. "I got the phone call last night. I...I didn't want Chegwidden to tell you."
"Webb...Paraguay? I...I was just in Paraguay working with Webb...that's how he got hurt." She paled. "John...what's happened to Lizzie?"
"The official line is missing in action, believed killed." He shook his head. "She was hurt pretty bad a few months ago, probably about the time she sent the card. Webb left her in there. If I had let one of my men in the field in her condition, I would have been court-martialed again. I don't know how this new director works, but you know the CIA. Not only do they leave you behind, you never existed." He paused. "I don't care if she's twenty-eight years old or a captain in the Marine corps...she's still my little girl." He looked at her. "I'm going down there and I'm going to bring her home."
"And you want me to go with you?" It wasn't really a question, to him or to her. Aside from Chloe, Lizzie was the closest thing to a daughter or sister that Mac had. Nothing and no one would keep her from helping to bring that girl home. "I need to clear it with Admiral Chegwidden and I," she hesitated, "I need to tell Harm."
"Tell Chegwidden you're preventing his client from another court- martial." It was obvious that he meant what he said. If he were left to his own devices, the men that had his daughter and very possibly her boyfriend and the director would be damaged.
Old Friends
Meg Austin looked around. So many faces had changed, but it had been seven years since she'd been back in Washington. It had even been four years since she'd talked to Harm. She needed his help on this; he was the only one she trusted to help her. She found his office and knocked on the open doorway. Harm looked up from his substantial pile of paperwork and his brow furrowed. "Meg?" He blinked. "What are you doing here? I…It's been awhile." His brow smoothed and his face melted into an easy smile. "Come in."
She came in and sat down, running her hand through her short blonde hair. "I know. I'm sorry. I should have called. It just seemed every time you did, I wasn't home and every time I did, you weren't." She smiled slightly. "How are you? How's Mac?"
"I'm doing fine and Mac…well, Mac is Mac." He grinned. "Don't worry about the short notice. The excitement of Navy life is what I live for. What fun would it be if I always knew who'd be walking through that door?" Motioning toward her, he asked, "So what about you? How have you been?"
"Good. Really good, actually." She paused, unsure how he would react. "Harm…when I left, I wasn't exactly honest with you."
His brow furrowed again. "How so?" He asked, though he wasn't sure he really wanted to know. Her cryptic admission had caused a small knot to form in the pit of his stomach.
"I did go to Italy, but not for JAG." She paused, got up, and closed the door before returning to her seat. "I'm in the CIA. I have been for the last seven years. I know how you reacted when I was shot and…I just wasn't sure how you'd react if I told you the truth."
He opened his mouth to reply twice and each time nothing came out. Meg in the CIA? He was blown away. "I don't know what to say, Meg…" He shook his head slightly as if to clear the fuzz from his brain and then went on. "You were probably right not to tell me though. It bothers me that you felt you couldn't, but I honestly can't say how I would've reacted back then."
She nodded. "And now?"
"Now…now, I would have to say that I don't have a very high opinion for all CIA officials and that how I react to your news will greatly depend on what it is you want from me. I'll help you if I can, Meg, but I'm not promising anything until I know what's brought you back here after all these years."
"I do need help." She paused. "Between Webb being hurt and my taking over for him, I lost an agent, a Marine captain, daughter of a Marine colonel. Harm, I can't leave her down there. I've got three on my team already, one of the two best pilots I know, a Marine, and myself."
"And you want me?" His eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Meg, this isn't something I can just decide to do or not do. I have orders…you'd have to clear it with the Admiral before I could even consider saying yes."
"Already done. He said that it was up to you."
"Oh," Harm looked a bit stunned. "Well, in that case…I guess it's an offer I can't refuse. I did say that I was in the Navy for the excitement, right? How soon will we leave?"
"We meet the pilot in half an hour."
He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. "Ah," he laughed, "I missed you, Meg."
She grinned. "I missed you too, Harm." She paused. "You need to tell Mac where you're going?"
Harm sighed, knowing that this would not be a pleasant conversation. "Yeah, you might want to tell me where to meet you because this may take awhile. She was on her way out earlier, I only hope I can catch her before she leaves." *****
John Farrow paced in his living room. It was funny: he'd bought this big house because he'd always wanted Lizzie to come home, he'd always wanted grandchildren. He wanted room to be himself, not some carbon copy of what anyone, his commanding officers or the press, thought a Marine should be. Now the house seemed too busy, echoing, hollow. Lizzie's room had been empty for two years, but today it was as if the ghost of her childhood was there, which was ridiculous because he hadn't lived there when she was little. He was the one to blame for her being a Marine; with her mother dead, it was what he'd raised her as, another one of his men, to be protected as well as he could, but also to follow orders. He loved his only daughter, but he had never really understood her. He almost smiled as he thought of Mac's words each time he told her that. She always replied that he should have understood Lizzie better, she was a carbon copy of himself. He personally thought she was more like Mac, the closest thing to a mother she'd ever had. He'd called that morning, asking her to come to Quantico, and he'd left orders at the base for her to come there. Work had saved him after Lilian's death and then again each time Mac left his life, but he couldn't work now. He was old and suddenly he was very tired. He wanted to look for Lizzie and, after he found her, he would retire. Where was Mac? He needed her. She had always managed to take care of Lizzie, take care of everything. Sarah MacKenzie stood in front of John Farrow's front door, one hand raised to knock; however, she couldn't quite bring herself to move her arm in the forward and back motion that would signal her arrival. She had no idea what he could possibly want with her after all this time and she felt more than just a little guilty for ducking out without telling Harm where she was going. She reasoned that she would never know what John wanted until she talked to him though and, against her better judgment, she knocked two sharp raps on the door. He opened the door, unable to believe that she was really there. "Come in. Thanks for coming. I hope it didn't cause problems." He knew Chegwidden had finally forgiven her for the affair, but he didn't know about Harm. He was glad to see that at least the commander had kept his promise and taken care of Mac for him.
Mac stepped inside, glancing around quickly at the interior of his home. In all the time they'd been...together, she'd never seen his house. They'd always met places and gone away together. Even his daughter had gone away with them from time to time. She wondered how Lizzie was these days. "It was no trouble at all," she managed. "Though I must say I'm intrigued...why did you call after all this time? It sounded important over the phone." She looked at him expectantly.
His voice faltered as he spoke and he sounded and looked his age. "When's the last time you spoke to Lizzie?"
She was a bit thrown since she had just been thinking of his daughter and she was the last person Mac had expected him to ask about. "Uh...a few months ago, I guess. I got a birthday card from her and I called to thank her. She wasn't in, but I was touched that she still thinks of me. Why?"
In other circumstances, he would have smiled. It sounded like Lizzie. Mac hung the moon as far as she was concerned and, as a female Marine officer, she wanted to be just like her, except for a few minor details. "She decided she'd had enough sitting around bases. I had almost convinced her to go to law school too, anywhere out of the line of fire. Then 9/11...I couldn't stop her. You know how she got. She had an idea in her head and she just went with it." His voice was shaking again. "She put her RECON skills to work and joined the CIA."
Mac's eyes widened. That Lizzie had come up with the idea didn't surprise her as much as that she had followed through with it. John could be pretty convincing when he didn't want something to go a certain way, although if Lizzie had gotten half of her father's skills of persuasion then she was probably pretty tough to dissuade herself. Dreading the answer, Mac asked, "What happened?"
"She met a man in Afghanistan, a gunnery sergeant. After she swore up and down that she'd never get involved in fraternization...she ended up in Paraguay with him. He's in the CIA too. The last thing I heard from her, she was resting, after finishing a mission," Being damned near killed was more like it, "and he was starting one, with this idiot Webb." He paused; the next part was the hardest. "I got the phone call last night. I...I didn't want Chegwidden to tell you."
"Webb...Paraguay? I...I was just in Paraguay working with Webb...that's how he got hurt." She paled. "John...what's happened to Lizzie?"
"The official line is missing in action, believed killed." He shook his head. "She was hurt pretty bad a few months ago, probably about the time she sent the card. Webb left her in there. If I had let one of my men in the field in her condition, I would have been court-martialed again. I don't know how this new director works, but you know the CIA. Not only do they leave you behind, you never existed." He paused. "I don't care if she's twenty-eight years old or a captain in the Marine corps...she's still my little girl." He looked at her. "I'm going down there and I'm going to bring her home."
"And you want me to go with you?" It wasn't really a question, to him or to her. Aside from Chloe, Lizzie was the closest thing to a daughter or sister that Mac had. Nothing and no one would keep her from helping to bring that girl home. "I need to clear it with Admiral Chegwidden and I," she hesitated, "I need to tell Harm."
"Tell Chegwidden you're preventing his client from another court- martial." It was obvious that he meant what he said. If he were left to his own devices, the men that had his daughter and very possibly her boyfriend and the director would be damaged.
