Letters
Author's Notes: As per the normal...all the standard disclaimers apply. Also, there is a Mac in this story...but its not Sarah MacKenzie. (Not a Harm/Mac shipper.)
Set around: Critical Condition
Dear Harm...
I hope this letter finds you well...and I hope this letter finds you in a better place than when last we spoke. I remember how close you were to Bud, and I can only imagine how hard its been for you to see him like he is. But, if I can say anything..I will say this. In the time I spent with Lt. Roberts and his wife, I saw such a connection between them that it was nearly tangible. I believe that Harriet's support, as well as the friendship of those of you at JAG will be what brings him out of the sadness you say you saw in his eyes. Besides which...if anything, he'll do fine simply because you Navy types are too stubborn to do otherwise.
Things here are strange. I wasn't sure I'd become comfortable in Africa again, considering all that happened. And, I'm not entirely sure what I feel is comfort. Perhaps its some small sense of apology...the land's way of offering some sense of conclusion to what happened in the desert. All I know is that I feel very strange. At the same time, the work is how its always been...challenging, heartbreaking and the most fulfilling part of my life.
We have a group of Marines here again...this time from California. When they arrived, the refugees looked at them like they'd just stepped off a space ship. Of course, a bunch of young men in camoflauge tend to stick out just a bit. No matter how much they might try not to. When I spoke to them last, I mentioned knowing you and those in Falls Church...and what was funny was how quickly they tried to be nice. Apparently knowing a "squid lawyer" doesn't earn me much in the way of a conversation...luckily you flew a plane. Otherwise all I'd hear out of them is yes ma'am. I feel old enough as it is.
Well...its looking like its about to rain again...which means I need to get my tent squared away so it doesn't blow away. Squared away...God help me I've been around the military far too much. Now I'm starting to use the lingo.
Be well.
Kirsten
"Commander Rabb?"
::Looking up from the letter, Harmon Rabb offered a smile to Harriet Sims who stood rather uncertainly in the doorway of his office. Rising to his feet, he gestured her inside. What she didn't know was he'd been thinking about her...Kirsten's letter bringing the younger woman to mind so keenly it almost put a lump in his throat. He'd seen the fear in her eyes when he'd returned home after seeing Bud, and he'd seen the trembling hands she'd tried so badly to hide. Bud was a survivor to be certain, but he wondered at the seemingly depthless well of strength that Harriet seemed to find each and every day. She was a wife, a mother, and even still a Navy officer...not to mention being one of the finest friends he had.::
"Hey there...I was just thinking about you."::He said, leaning on the edge of his desk.:: "How've you been?"
"Bud's fine sir..."
"Harriet..."
"Sir?"::Blue eyes looked puzzled for a moment at his interjection.::
"I was wondering how you were."
"Oh.."::A stain of color rose to her cheeks, and her gaze swung downward for a moment in embarassment. But when she looked up...he saw that strength again.:: "I'm tired...but I'm doing ok sir."
"If you need any help...you know all you have to do is ask."
"I don't want to impose sir."
"I know...and if it was an imposition, I'd say so. But its not. Its what friends do for one another."
"Thank you sir."::When she met his gaze again, he saw it. The wavering of that brave face she'd been trying so hard to keep in place. For herself, her son...and her husband.:: "Its...just been hard."
"I can only imagine. Sit down..."::Moving to sit behind his desk, he waited until she'd taken a seat before sitting himself. Leaning back a little, he dug in his desk and came up with a small box of kleenex which was slid across to her. Nodding gratefully, she pulled one free...dabbing at the few tears that had dared to show themselves.::
"He's just...not always himself. Sometimes...its like nothing ever happened. But then.."
"Things change."
"They do...and I know he doesn't mean to be, but sometimes he's just..."::Shaking her head, she wiped her eyes once more before looking up again.:: "Sometimes I don't know what to say."
"Maybe sometimes he doesn't either."::His gaze fell upon the letter Kirsten had sent, and his focus came to the part she'd written about the woman sitting in front of him.:: "The thing is Harriet...you have so much strength in you that maybe all you need to do is just be there. Because I know a few things for certain....and one of the most important things I know is that Bud loves you. Just be around...because sometime soon I'll bet you'll find the words."
Author's Notes: As per the normal...all the standard disclaimers apply. Also, there is a Mac in this story...but its not Sarah MacKenzie. (Not a Harm/Mac shipper.)
Set around: Critical Condition
Dear Harm...
I hope this letter finds you well...and I hope this letter finds you in a better place than when last we spoke. I remember how close you were to Bud, and I can only imagine how hard its been for you to see him like he is. But, if I can say anything..I will say this. In the time I spent with Lt. Roberts and his wife, I saw such a connection between them that it was nearly tangible. I believe that Harriet's support, as well as the friendship of those of you at JAG will be what brings him out of the sadness you say you saw in his eyes. Besides which...if anything, he'll do fine simply because you Navy types are too stubborn to do otherwise.
Things here are strange. I wasn't sure I'd become comfortable in Africa again, considering all that happened. And, I'm not entirely sure what I feel is comfort. Perhaps its some small sense of apology...the land's way of offering some sense of conclusion to what happened in the desert. All I know is that I feel very strange. At the same time, the work is how its always been...challenging, heartbreaking and the most fulfilling part of my life.
We have a group of Marines here again...this time from California. When they arrived, the refugees looked at them like they'd just stepped off a space ship. Of course, a bunch of young men in camoflauge tend to stick out just a bit. No matter how much they might try not to. When I spoke to them last, I mentioned knowing you and those in Falls Church...and what was funny was how quickly they tried to be nice. Apparently knowing a "squid lawyer" doesn't earn me much in the way of a conversation...luckily you flew a plane. Otherwise all I'd hear out of them is yes ma'am. I feel old enough as it is.
Well...its looking like its about to rain again...which means I need to get my tent squared away so it doesn't blow away. Squared away...God help me I've been around the military far too much. Now I'm starting to use the lingo.
Be well.
Kirsten
"Commander Rabb?"
::Looking up from the letter, Harmon Rabb offered a smile to Harriet Sims who stood rather uncertainly in the doorway of his office. Rising to his feet, he gestured her inside. What she didn't know was he'd been thinking about her...Kirsten's letter bringing the younger woman to mind so keenly it almost put a lump in his throat. He'd seen the fear in her eyes when he'd returned home after seeing Bud, and he'd seen the trembling hands she'd tried so badly to hide. Bud was a survivor to be certain, but he wondered at the seemingly depthless well of strength that Harriet seemed to find each and every day. She was a wife, a mother, and even still a Navy officer...not to mention being one of the finest friends he had.::
"Hey there...I was just thinking about you."::He said, leaning on the edge of his desk.:: "How've you been?"
"Bud's fine sir..."
"Harriet..."
"Sir?"::Blue eyes looked puzzled for a moment at his interjection.::
"I was wondering how you were."
"Oh.."::A stain of color rose to her cheeks, and her gaze swung downward for a moment in embarassment. But when she looked up...he saw that strength again.:: "I'm tired...but I'm doing ok sir."
"If you need any help...you know all you have to do is ask."
"I don't want to impose sir."
"I know...and if it was an imposition, I'd say so. But its not. Its what friends do for one another."
"Thank you sir."::When she met his gaze again, he saw it. The wavering of that brave face she'd been trying so hard to keep in place. For herself, her son...and her husband.:: "Its...just been hard."
"I can only imagine. Sit down..."::Moving to sit behind his desk, he waited until she'd taken a seat before sitting himself. Leaning back a little, he dug in his desk and came up with a small box of kleenex which was slid across to her. Nodding gratefully, she pulled one free...dabbing at the few tears that had dared to show themselves.::
"He's just...not always himself. Sometimes...its like nothing ever happened. But then.."
"Things change."
"They do...and I know he doesn't mean to be, but sometimes he's just..."::Shaking her head, she wiped her eyes once more before looking up again.:: "Sometimes I don't know what to say."
"Maybe sometimes he doesn't either."::His gaze fell upon the letter Kirsten had sent, and his focus came to the part she'd written about the woman sitting in front of him.:: "The thing is Harriet...you have so much strength in you that maybe all you need to do is just be there. Because I know a few things for certain....and one of the most important things I know is that Bud loves you. Just be around...because sometime soon I'll bet you'll find the words."