Muchos smooches to the reviewers. Thank you for the encouragement! The outline goes for a while longer, if you want more… and we get back to Harm and Mac. In the meantime, I'm not thrilled with the way TPTB are messing up other relationships, even working relationship/friendships… and so this gentle detour.

Harm's Office

JAG Headquarters

Thursday Morning

Commander Harmon Rabb stood by the bookshelf in his office, staring at a familiar picture. He ran his hand over the frame and sighed.

I wish I could talk to you about all this, Dad…

Mac was out of town for at least three days, checking out a complaint of sexual harassment aboard the Seahawk. Things were going so incredibly well between them that he felt almost like he must be missing something. He just wanted another perspective, one that knew them but wasn't quite as close to the situation as he was. He wanted someone to talk to, to get advice from. It's too important not to bounce off someone. I don't want to mess this up.

Shaking his head, he pulled a slat of the blinds down with one finger and looked out into the bullpen. Coming out of the Admiral's office was Sturgis Turner, one of his closest friends. Surely Sturgis knew something about what had begun last week. Mac told Harm three days ago, blushing, about her accidental confession of affection in front of his old friend. Harm grinned at the memory and shook his head. It wasn't that he didn't trust Sturgis, it was that talking to him about this just didn't feel quite… right.

Bud Roberts walked through the space next, and Harm frowned. Why not Bud? Certainly the man had been through a lot, besides having a successful career and marriage. Bud was probably the closest thing to a brother, sidekick and backup man that Harm had, at least in this country. Yeah, but Bud and Harriet have been rooting for us for so long, there's no way he'd be objective. And anything I said to him would go to Harriet as well… he sighed at his indecision and let the slat snap back into place.

Better to wait and have a dinner with all four of them. It would be a party instead of… he paused. Instead of what? What was it he wanted? Picking up the picture frame, he spoke quietly. "I guess I want a father to talk to, eh, Dad?" Frank, his stepfather, had always been supportive, but it wasn't the same. His finger traced over the image of the smiling man standing next to the fighter jet. "I wish there was someone who could see me the way you would, who would understand the complications..."

With a slight frown, Harm looked up through the blinds again. His gaze drifted towards the Admiral's door. He stared for a long minute, shook his head. "Nah. That would be crazy." The phone rang, and he leaned over the desk to pick it up. He answered crisply. "Rabb."

"Commander, I need to talk to you. Get in here pronto."

"Aye, Sir." The receiver clicked in his ear, and Harm stared at it for a minute before hanging it up carefully. He regarded the picture in his other hand suspiciously. "That wasn't funny."

Admiral AJ Chegwidden looked over his reading glasses at the commander who sat, in his opinion, a bit nervously in the leather guest chair. "I think that's all."

"Thank you, sir. I'll get on it."

"Good." He paused, waiting for Harm to stand. When nothing happened, he continued. ""Something on your mind, Commander Rabb?"

Harm's eyes darted up nervously. "Ah, no, Sir. I mean... no." He shook his head as he stood. "Sir."

The Admiral sighed inwardly. I'm too old for this. "Fine. Dismissed."

Then he waited for it as Rabb barked "Aye, Sir," and made a tidy about-face for the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob, just as AJ had reached '5' in his count. Right on schedule. I haven't lost my touch.

"Sir?"

"Rabb?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Chegwidden looked at him with the lazy power of a jungle cat. "Make it fast, Commander, I'm busy here."

"Yes Sir. I was just wondering if you were busy after work tonight." The younger officer was practically sweating.

"I have plans. Why. What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing, Sir. I just wondered if you might want to go to McMurphy's…" Harm stopped abruptly at the Admiral's expression.

"The two of us?"

"Well, yes, Sir."

"Are you asking me out, Commander?"

"No, Sir. I mean, well, I guess I was just thinking it might be nice to talk outside the office…" He floundered as AJ sat back and stared as if he had two heads.

"I don't know that it would be wise."

"Certainly, Sir. I apologize."

"Dismissed."

"Aye, Sir."

As Harm walked past Tiner, the yeoman could hear him muttering under his breath, "Stupid, stupid, stupid." Somehow it was clear that the Commander was talking about himself. Tiner shrugged. Just another day at the office.

AJ sat at his desk writing, and stopped. He stared at the door, shook his head and went back to work, his concern as always masked by an expression of annoyance.

Voglio's Italian Restaurant

Thursday Evening

"What do you think he wanted to talk about?"

"Who knows. I've got enough trouble with the Secretary thinking I've got no control over discipline in the office without going out for a drink with my most out-of-control lawyer."

Meredith tilted her head to the side, watching him. "You could just as easily describe him as your most devoted, most determined, most successful lawyer." She adjusted her napkin distractedly. "From what I've heard of you at that age, he sounds a lot –"

"Don't you start defending him." Their eyes met, and AJ looked away for a moment, grinned slightly, and looked back at her. "You're supposed to be on my side, remember?"

"And I am, dear. But I can't help wondering what might be happening if Harm came and wanted to get together with you. Has he ever made overtures like that before?"

AJ considered as he ripped a piece of bread, dipped it in the herbed oil and took a bite. "Not that I recall."

Meredith opened her mouth to speak, and closed it again. She picked up her wineglass and took a delicate sip.

"What, Meredith." His voice had a weary, affectionate acceptance in it.

"I beg your pardon?"

He leaned his chin on his palm, his elbow on the corner of the table between them. "I know when you're trying not to say something. You always do eventually." He smiled at her look of imaginary dismay. "You may as well go ahead."

She smiled at him, put her glass down. "If you insist." She ignored his response to that and went on. "You know he's been going through a lot lately, AJ. Maybe he needs someone to talk to. Someone older and wiser, perhaps?"

"Oh, no you don't. There is no way I'm old enough to be a father figure to that boy. Man." He bit his tongue in consternation. Meredith laughed.

"I'm a teacher, AJ. I know that being a parental figure is a state of mind, not an age. Besides, he lost his father when he was very young. Do you realize he's probably been in your command, at this point, longer than he was aware of his father being around?" She paused as he stared at the candle on the table, considering. "His dad was Navy, he was an authority figure, he was someone who he saw as larger than life. A hero."

"Meredith –"

"I'm just pointing out the similarities."

"Meredith, I'm his commanding officer. That's all. His boss. He has to answer to me, but I'm not some icon that he puts up on a pedestal, nor do I want to be."

She grinned and twirled a few strands of fettuccine on her fork. "Methinks the Admiral doth protest a bit too much." She looked back to her plate and made an approving noise. "This is delicious. Say, speaking of Harm, did you ever get that vegetarian lasagna recipe?"

He shook his head, saying nothing, and returned to attacking his chicken, which looked particularly defenseless. She let him take out some of his denial on his meal before speaking again, seeming to change the subject.

"You remember that I've got that regional conference tomorrow."

He sipped his wine, still not making eye contact. "Right."

"So I'll be gone all evening. If it gets really late, I'll probably stay over with Janice."

"Right."

"So you'll have the house to yourself."

He paused, fork halfway to his mouth. Slowly his eyes panned over to her, where she sat innocently spearing a shrimp. Too innocently. He dropped the fork onto his plate with a clatter and held out his hand. Meredith blinked at him, her expression carefully neutral, and handed him her cell phone. AJ punched in a number without looking away from her, an expression on his face that would have struck dread in any of the officers under his command. Meredith simply smiled. The voice that picked up on the other end sounded weary.

"Rabb."

"Commander. You're still at the office?"

"Oh, yes, Admiral. I was just getting some loose ends tied up on the missile system investigation." AJ could almost hear the frown. "Is anything wrong? Can I do something for you, Sir?"

AJ sighed and continued to stare at his fiancé. "No, nothing wrong. I was just wondering," his eyes closed briefly as he frowned. "You remember that vegetarian lasagna recipe you offered to teach me?"

"Ah, yes, Sir…"

"Well, Meredith is out of town tomorrow, I thought you could come over, we could work on it." He stopped, looked over and caught the brunt of her most teacherly look. "I mean, would you be willing to join me for an educational dinner. Harm." She looked relieved. AJ rolled his eyes. Swinging the receiver up away from his mouth, he whispered, "Just wait until I get you home." Meredith gave a wicked chuckle and refilled their wineglasses.

There was a pause. "At your house, Sir?"

"Is there a problem with that?"

"No, not at all. That would be great." Another, shorter pause. "Thank you, Sir."

"Don't thank me yet, you're going to have to help cook."

The smile was evident in Harm's voice. "I'd be glad to."

"Fine. 1900?"

"Fine. Great."

"And Rabb?"

"Yes, Sir?"

He sighed. "Let's keep this as quiet as we can. I don't want it to turn into a cooking school."

"Agreed, Admiral. Please give my best to Meredith."

"I will. And by the way, Rabb, I don't care if she is away on assignment. Go home."

"Yes, Sir. Goodnight."

AJ folded the phone and handed it back to Meredith, who smiled benignly and slipped it back into her purse. "I hope you're happy."

She laughed, more musically than one might expect. "I'm the happiest woman in the world." Leaning over, she ran her fingers lightly over his hand. "I think it's wonderful that you're doing this."

"Yeah. I could tell." He leaned toward her and kissed her slowly. "Oh, just wait until I get you home."

Harm smiled at the phone for a minute after hanging up, thinking about what he would have to bring over to the Admiral's, when suddenly his eyes widened. "You 'don't care if she is away'…" He groaned. Evidently his eagle-eyed commanding officer had already figured something was going on. Unless he was just suggesting that Harm was putting in extra hours because Mac had started on the case with him. He stared at the ceiling. "Ohh, Mac. I think I may be in trouble."

Friday Evening

Chegwidden Residence

Harm stood at the door, a bag of groceries tucked under one arm, a smaller bag in the other hand. The Admiral told him that he would get the bread and salad, if Harm could pick up the things for the lasagna. Now, standing at the door, Harm felt an unfamiliar nervousness. Come on, Rabb, you see him every day. You trust him with your life, you can trust him with… your lasagna. Before he could over-analyze his tension, he rang the doorbell.

AJ Chegwidden opened the door, wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that made him look more like an off-duty SEAL than an Admiral. "Evening, Harm. Let me get that."

"Thanks, sir."

AJ turned back to look at him with a calculating expression. "Let's go easy on the 'sir's' tonight, alright?"

"Yes, S – " Harm looked briefly at the floor and laughed. "Sounds good."

"Good."

As they walked into the kitchen and put the bags on the counter, Harm said, "I brought my own sauce, so –"

"Wait a minute. How am I supposed to recreate this dish if we're using your sauce?"

Harm laughed. "Well, we could do sauce another night. Or you could use your own."

AJ stared. "My own. Right."

"Perhaps Meredith makes…" Their eyes met and Harm didn't bother to finish. "Ah. Right."

AJ pulled the box of lasagna noodles out and stared at them. "You know, these have always been my least favorite part of making lasagna. They're such a pain."

"Yeah, I usually make my own sheets of pasta. Then you don't have to deal with the whole hot pasta dance."

The Admiral looked thoughtful. "You know, Meredith gave me a pasta machine. I've never used it." They looked at each other for a moment.

"You want to try it?"

"Will it take too long?"

"Not at all. In fact, if we make the pasta first, we can get everything else ready while it's drying." The Admiral nodded and ducked into the next room.

"It's here somewhere. Ah." He came back with a large box, and Harm looked excited.

"Wow. I have the old version of this one. This is a great machine." He started to unpack it, and the Admiral grinned behind his back.

"It's a pasta machine, Harm, not a 'vette." Turning toward the refrigerator, he said, "You want something to drink? Or should we be traditional and start on the wine while we're cooking?"

"Well, we do have to taste as we go…"

Two hours later the kitchen smelled like a particularly good Italian restaurant, and dinner was finishing up in the oven. AJ looked around. "Will you look at this place?"

Harm looked, frowning slightly. The assembling of the pasta maker had taken any remaining tension out the meeting, and the wine didn't hurt. "You think this is messy?"

"No. I think it looks like we weren't even cooking." He refilled their glasses and motioned Harm toward the den. "Where are the women when we do things without making a mess?" Harm laughed and followed him into a large, comfortable room. The couch and chairs were upholstered in brown leather, and bookshelves lined three walls. A large mahogany desk took up one corner, and a burgundy oriental rug softened the hardwood floor.

"Wow. Nice."

"Thanks." They sat down comfortably. With a reluctant grin, the Admiral said, "So I suppose this is where one of us says, 'speaking of women…'" Harm laughed, a little nervously.

"Admiral. I wanted to talk to you about Colonel Mackenzie and me."

"Really."

"I don't want to put you in an uncomfortable position, being our commanding officer –"

"Do you have a lawyer?" The Admiral's interruption caught Harm by surprise.

"Ah, well, I used Bud once. Usually I take care of things myself."

"I'm not surprised." AJ stretched his long legs out and put his feet up on the ottoman. "Here's the deal. Rules about fraternization are established to protect the military. You know that. However, I don't believe you two would act any differently if you were 'involved' than you do as friends. You'd still pull her out of a burning building before the rest of us." Harm chuckled. "If you get into any trouble, you can bet your ass it'll be with me before anyone else. If it's 'anyone else', well… at that point I suppose you'll need a lawyer. One who knows you both, and could defend your actions." He swirled the wine in his glass, making a garnet whirlpool.

"You would do that, Sir?" The sincerity in Harm's wide eyes made AJ grin in spite of himself.

"I would. So we have lawyer/client going for both of us, got it?"

"Thank you."

AJ nodded. "So what's going on?"

Harm leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he held the glass with both hands. "We seem to be dating."

"Seem?"

"Well… we're taking our time."

"Good."

"Yeah. And I know there're things we have to work on, things that we need to talk about…" His eyes raised and met the Admiral's. "I really don't want to mess this up."

The Admiral's voice was surprisingly gentle. "And why do you think you might 'mess it up'?"

Harm chuckled softly. "We both know I haven't got the best track record."

"Neither has she, as I recall."

The younger man shrugged. "I guess." They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping occasionally. When the Admiral spoke, it came out of nowhere.

"You care about her, Harm?"

"Absolutely."

"Enough to work on yourself?"

"I'd change for her –"

"No, not change for her. Work on yourself. As in take a hard look at why you do what you do, and figure out how and if it can coexist with why she does the things she does." Harm looked at him, puzzled. "For example. You say you don't have a good track record. Do you know why?"

Harm stared down at his glass. "Because I'm afraid to commit – afraid that if I let myself care absolutely, then I'll never survive if they leave me, or die…" The silence sat in the room for a while.

"And how's that working for you."

The commander chuckled wearily. "I'm tired of it. I think I'm ready to give up surety for happiness."

"That sounds like a very healthy choice, Harm."

Rabb smiled down at the floor. "And I kept telling myself I couldn't have Mac." He lifted his eyes to the Admiral. "I'm tired of that, too."

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, you two should talk as much as you can… you're both lawyers, both used to having to win. That can make things… difficult."

"I hadn't really thought of it that way. We don't act like lawyers when we're talking about -" he stopped, considered carefully.

"Right. The devotion you two have for each other, even when you're 'just friends', is clear. Make sure you take off the litigation hats when you're trying to work things out. Remember that losing to someone you love, " he said, putting his feet down and leaning toward Harm, "is not losing at all. It's just trusting them with another piece of your self."

Harm looked thoughtful. "I really appreciate this, Admiral." AJ brushed it off lightly.

"Anytime, Harm." He stood and looked down at Harm's thoughtful expression. "I mean that. Let's eat."