Disclaimer: see chapter one
NancyErin: wow. Thank you. *grin* much appreciated. Hehe. Hope you stay with me . . . story's about six chapters long.
DD2: your wish is my command . . . or something. Um . . . yea. Here's the next chapter lol. Thanks for the review!
Annebd: hehe, oops? Thanks for pointing that out to me . . . never gave it a thought, actually.
Harmsgirl: *scratches her head* I'm sorry you found the fact that she had enough self-confidence not to have to wear make-up offensive.
Marines_sis: here you are lol. More! thanks very much for the review!
And I forgot to mention this in the first chapter, but given the recent events in the show, this story is obviously AU. It could have taken place any time before season eight, when Gunny was still at JAG, and Harm wasn't working for the CIA.
0330 Zulu North of Union Station
Harm was sitting in his apartment, trying to concentrate on a case where he was prosecuting a Gunnery Sargent for dereliction of duty. He was in the process of writing his opening statement, when he suddenly slammed down the file on the table in front of him.
"Damn it. I wish I knew what she was talking about." He sighed. "There's no way I'm going to get anything done on this tonight. luckily it's not being tried until the day after tomorrow. what the hell did she mean by 'my group'? This doesn't make any sense. I don't even know her for God's sake.Lord, listen to yourself, Rabb. You sound nuts. Time to go to bed." He shook his head at himself, standing up from the couch. He walked through his apartment, flipping off lights and stripping at the same time, then threw his jeans and his shirt in a pile on the floor. He was soon asleep, and as he would soon find out, sleep was just the thing he needed to clear up this mystery.
*Flashback to Harm's senior year in high school*
"Hey, Raymond! Try to find Rabb before he leaves; I need to talk to him. Now."
Derek Raymond finished dressing quickly and then went in search of the high school's Q.B., Harmon Rabb Jr. They had just finished a grueling two-and-a- half hour practice, and although most of the team had taken their time getting ready to go home, savoring the rare downtime, Harm had left in a hurry. Derek knew where he was - the school's library.
Now the normal assumption would be that he was there to do research for an American History course or to look up a reference for a physics report. But neither of those would apply to Harmon Rabb Jr. Chances were, he was researching the only thing he ever researched - the Vietnam War. Derek was never sure why Harm was so interested in that war - whenever he asked his teammate about it, Harm just shrugged it off, suddenly needing to be somewhere else. Derek had let it drop long ago, but it was still strange.
"Yo, Harm!"
Harm quickly flipped shut the book he was reading, shoving it behind him among the other books. "What's up?"
"Coach wants to see you before you jet. He's waiting in his office."
"Thanks, Derek. Got any idea what it's about?"
"No clue. But he sounded pissed."
"Oh great."
Derek shrugged. "Better not keep him waiting."
Harm nodded, then disappeared.
***
"Hey Coach. What's up?"
"Come on in, Rabb. Have a seat."
"Better not; I have to get home. What's this about?"
"Your grades. Do you realize you're failing three out of your six classes?"
"Um.well, see-"
"No excuses. You know that I can't keep kids on the team who don't keep their grades up. Now either find tutor who knows what they're doing in American History, math, and physics, or you're off the team."
"Coach, you can't do this. I'm just having some hard times right now. I'll work harder, I swear."
"Rabb, you heard me. The end of the marking period is three weeks away. If you don't bring those grade up to passing, I'm afraid you're going to have to be off the team."
Harm left the room, slamming the door behind him. That's when he saw the answer to his prayers. Standing by the soda machine, waiting for her chance to use the phone beside it, was the smartest girl in his clases, and she also happened to have a nice streak that couldn't be shaken. Her name was Cassandra Thomas.
NancyErin: wow. Thank you. *grin* much appreciated. Hehe. Hope you stay with me . . . story's about six chapters long.
DD2: your wish is my command . . . or something. Um . . . yea. Here's the next chapter lol. Thanks for the review!
Annebd: hehe, oops? Thanks for pointing that out to me . . . never gave it a thought, actually.
Harmsgirl: *scratches her head* I'm sorry you found the fact that she had enough self-confidence not to have to wear make-up offensive.
Marines_sis: here you are lol. More! thanks very much for the review!
And I forgot to mention this in the first chapter, but given the recent events in the show, this story is obviously AU. It could have taken place any time before season eight, when Gunny was still at JAG, and Harm wasn't working for the CIA.
0330 Zulu North of Union Station
Harm was sitting in his apartment, trying to concentrate on a case where he was prosecuting a Gunnery Sargent for dereliction of duty. He was in the process of writing his opening statement, when he suddenly slammed down the file on the table in front of him.
"Damn it. I wish I knew what she was talking about." He sighed. "There's no way I'm going to get anything done on this tonight. luckily it's not being tried until the day after tomorrow. what the hell did she mean by 'my group'? This doesn't make any sense. I don't even know her for God's sake.Lord, listen to yourself, Rabb. You sound nuts. Time to go to bed." He shook his head at himself, standing up from the couch. He walked through his apartment, flipping off lights and stripping at the same time, then threw his jeans and his shirt in a pile on the floor. He was soon asleep, and as he would soon find out, sleep was just the thing he needed to clear up this mystery.
*Flashback to Harm's senior year in high school*
"Hey, Raymond! Try to find Rabb before he leaves; I need to talk to him. Now."
Derek Raymond finished dressing quickly and then went in search of the high school's Q.B., Harmon Rabb Jr. They had just finished a grueling two-and-a- half hour practice, and although most of the team had taken their time getting ready to go home, savoring the rare downtime, Harm had left in a hurry. Derek knew where he was - the school's library.
Now the normal assumption would be that he was there to do research for an American History course or to look up a reference for a physics report. But neither of those would apply to Harmon Rabb Jr. Chances were, he was researching the only thing he ever researched - the Vietnam War. Derek was never sure why Harm was so interested in that war - whenever he asked his teammate about it, Harm just shrugged it off, suddenly needing to be somewhere else. Derek had let it drop long ago, but it was still strange.
"Yo, Harm!"
Harm quickly flipped shut the book he was reading, shoving it behind him among the other books. "What's up?"
"Coach wants to see you before you jet. He's waiting in his office."
"Thanks, Derek. Got any idea what it's about?"
"No clue. But he sounded pissed."
"Oh great."
Derek shrugged. "Better not keep him waiting."
Harm nodded, then disappeared.
***
"Hey Coach. What's up?"
"Come on in, Rabb. Have a seat."
"Better not; I have to get home. What's this about?"
"Your grades. Do you realize you're failing three out of your six classes?"
"Um.well, see-"
"No excuses. You know that I can't keep kids on the team who don't keep their grades up. Now either find tutor who knows what they're doing in American History, math, and physics, or you're off the team."
"Coach, you can't do this. I'm just having some hard times right now. I'll work harder, I swear."
"Rabb, you heard me. The end of the marking period is three weeks away. If you don't bring those grade up to passing, I'm afraid you're going to have to be off the team."
Harm left the room, slamming the door behind him. That's when he saw the answer to his prayers. Standing by the soda machine, waiting for her chance to use the phone beside it, was the smartest girl in his clases, and she also happened to have a nice streak that couldn't be shaken. Her name was Cassandra Thomas.