Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no
copyright infringement is intended.
Author's note: This is no "who gets the girl" story. This is about two men who were almost friends once ... and now have a problem.
---
- USS Seahawk, early evening
Harm arrived at the bridge and walked over to Captain Johnson who was standing in front of the windows to the flight deck. The Captain waved his hand without turning around when he stood to attention and kept peering out into the growing darkness. Harm followed his gaze.
A big helicopter was slowly approaching the deck, swaying dangerously in the hard and unsteady wind. The machine drifted too far to the left, pulled up again and maneuvered into a better position for a second try.
"What are they doing, damn it," Johnson growled irritated, "They're going to ruin my deck!"
The helo shook in an especially nasty gust of wind and then hit the landing mark much harder than intended. Immediately the deck crew ran forward to secure it in its position. Captain Johnson scowled and turned to Harm.
"Well, Commander, I've heard you've solved our little problem?"
"Yes, Sir." Harm explained the circumstances of the theft that wasn't a theft but a bad joke that went south and how nobody had had the courage to tell the truth. The whole thing was in the end just one more example for the old rivalry between Navy and Marine Corps. Especially on a ship that was packed to the gills like the Seahawk was at the moment.
"Well, at least you've worked quickly." Johnson motioned to a young seaman with a pad and looked over the figures before he sent him away with a satisfied nod. "To be honest: I've been surprised you have been sent because of it. A simple theft - even of ammunition - seems a bit low for the rank of a Commander."
"Ah-," Harm cleared his throat, "Admiral Chegwidden likes to remind his staff that no case is too low for a good attorney." He didn't mention that he was still on Chegwidden's wrong side ... and would probably be for quite some more time.
"Well, a good point of view," remarked the Captain, "By the way, there's something else I have to tell you. As you have already noticed we are pretty stuffed at the moment with all these Marines on board and now we've got some more visitors for the night -" He paused when a movement behind Harm's back caught his eye. He nodded. "Ah, yes, speaking of guests. Thank you, Mr. Logan. Welcome on board Mister...?"
"Webb."
Harm spun around and stared at Clayton Webb who had just entered in company with a petty officer. Webb stared back. The temperature on the bridge dropped about ten degrees.
"Mister Webb," continued Johnson. "I was just about to tell Commander Rabb here that we're short of space so you two will have to share a room for the night. But I'm sure you'll understand this little discomfort..." Johnson trailed off and looked from one man to the other. "Is something wrong?"
Harm's face was frozen in shock and Webb wore a matching expression. He slowly drew his eyes from Harm and focused on the Captain.
"Well..." He cleared his throat. Harm just kept looking. "Captain... Maybe this isn't the best arrangement."
Johnson raised his brows. "You two know each other?"
Webb glanced at Harm and then quickly away.
"So to say, Sir," Harm searched for the right words. "Mister Webb and I ... have had some differences in the past."
Johnson's brows furrowed. "Anything that'll keep you from walking out of your room alive tomorrow?"
Harm looked at Webb and Webb looked at Harm. None of them gave an answer.
Obviously Johnson took this as a no. His brows dropped back down. "Fine. So this is settled."
He turned away. So he unfortunately missed the next look that passed between the two men behind his back. He would have given his decision a second thought if he had.
Author's note: This is no "who gets the girl" story. This is about two men who were almost friends once ... and now have a problem.
---
- USS Seahawk, early evening
Harm arrived at the bridge and walked over to Captain Johnson who was standing in front of the windows to the flight deck. The Captain waved his hand without turning around when he stood to attention and kept peering out into the growing darkness. Harm followed his gaze.
A big helicopter was slowly approaching the deck, swaying dangerously in the hard and unsteady wind. The machine drifted too far to the left, pulled up again and maneuvered into a better position for a second try.
"What are they doing, damn it," Johnson growled irritated, "They're going to ruin my deck!"
The helo shook in an especially nasty gust of wind and then hit the landing mark much harder than intended. Immediately the deck crew ran forward to secure it in its position. Captain Johnson scowled and turned to Harm.
"Well, Commander, I've heard you've solved our little problem?"
"Yes, Sir." Harm explained the circumstances of the theft that wasn't a theft but a bad joke that went south and how nobody had had the courage to tell the truth. The whole thing was in the end just one more example for the old rivalry between Navy and Marine Corps. Especially on a ship that was packed to the gills like the Seahawk was at the moment.
"Well, at least you've worked quickly." Johnson motioned to a young seaman with a pad and looked over the figures before he sent him away with a satisfied nod. "To be honest: I've been surprised you have been sent because of it. A simple theft - even of ammunition - seems a bit low for the rank of a Commander."
"Ah-," Harm cleared his throat, "Admiral Chegwidden likes to remind his staff that no case is too low for a good attorney." He didn't mention that he was still on Chegwidden's wrong side ... and would probably be for quite some more time.
"Well, a good point of view," remarked the Captain, "By the way, there's something else I have to tell you. As you have already noticed we are pretty stuffed at the moment with all these Marines on board and now we've got some more visitors for the night -" He paused when a movement behind Harm's back caught his eye. He nodded. "Ah, yes, speaking of guests. Thank you, Mr. Logan. Welcome on board Mister...?"
"Webb."
Harm spun around and stared at Clayton Webb who had just entered in company with a petty officer. Webb stared back. The temperature on the bridge dropped about ten degrees.
"Mister Webb," continued Johnson. "I was just about to tell Commander Rabb here that we're short of space so you two will have to share a room for the night. But I'm sure you'll understand this little discomfort..." Johnson trailed off and looked from one man to the other. "Is something wrong?"
Harm's face was frozen in shock and Webb wore a matching expression. He slowly drew his eyes from Harm and focused on the Captain.
"Well..." He cleared his throat. Harm just kept looking. "Captain... Maybe this isn't the best arrangement."
Johnson raised his brows. "You two know each other?"
Webb glanced at Harm and then quickly away.
"So to say, Sir," Harm searched for the right words. "Mister Webb and I ... have had some differences in the past."
Johnson's brows furrowed. "Anything that'll keep you from walking out of your room alive tomorrow?"
Harm looked at Webb and Webb looked at Harm. None of them gave an answer.
Obviously Johnson took this as a no. His brows dropped back down. "Fine. So this is settled."
He turned away. So he unfortunately missed the next look that passed between the two men behind his back. He would have given his decision a second thought if he had.