Oh, man, you guys, you can't imagine how tickled pink I am. Seeing all of your positive, motivating reviews gives me that satisfying bubble of excitement in my stomach. Thank you so much for reading and telling me what you think!
Pissed Of Poet1: Ohhh, man, I'm so excited to get to that part, it's gonna be a lot fun to write. I have to tread carefully though when I do get to that part. Because this is the time where I have to start putting more thought into the ending. Make everything logical. Thank you so much for coming back, it means a lot!!
Pennithil: LoL, I'm gonna admit....I had no intention of it going this way until I was about halfway through the first chapter. When I thought about the possibilities, I just couldn't pass it up. Wow, Pennit, then you have a great gift of languages!!! (my bro took Latin and he hated it). Hey, maybe you can study as many as possible and become a translator for the government!! Whoo-hoo!!! Oh my gosh, my Egypt story needs some serious planning. It started out fine, but now I *really* need to pay attention to the details of the story for it to make sense at the end. So, I'm not sure exactly when it'll be finished! LOL, and well....I do want to be a an attorney, lol!!!!! Thank you for coming back!
CharmedMummy: Ohh, I love a good, spooky Halloween story! It was fun to write! Ahh, do not worry, JAG related topics are in the near future!!!! (perhaps even a trial with all the little ideas sparking in this mixed up brain of mine)....OMG, I completely forgot about Mac's "unnatural abilities"!!!!!!!!!! How could I forget that?? I was trying to think of some ways I could make Grace and the other kids similar to their parents and.....*BONG*....(that's the sound of me hitting my head).....why didn't I think of that???!!! THANK YOU!!! *hugs* AH! And you're my lucky number 30 on the review list! *does happy dance* THANK YOU, CHARMED!
Ducks: Oh, thank you, thank you! Those words just make me feel (as I said up top) tickled pink! Well, since season 9 is, as far as I can tell, set in 2003 (and I said I didn't really like the idea of Harm losing his job), I thought I'd just stick in the 8th season somewhere. That way I can have a little more leverage when I make up things, including Webb's wife. Thank you so much for reading!
r: Yay!!! Hopefully I can get the next chapter out this week, or maybe Friday. School eats up a good portion of the day...though I could write at nights.....okay, I'm gonna try my darndest (my new word) to get the chapters out in a timely fashion. Thank you for reading!
winjin: I have to admit, Win, a time-travel bit didn't even cross my mind until I was halfway through the first chapter. But now, I can't look back!! Thank you for coming back though!!!!!
Sandra: Omg, Sandra, I'm so excited to write that part. I've been having so much fun writing the story and that's gonna be one of the best parts! Thank you so much for reading!!!
sunchaser2: Ahh! Yay! You came back!! And you love it??? Yay!!! I feel happy!!!! Thank you so much for reading!!!!!!!!!
ArwenUndomiel: Eek!! *jumps up and down* thank you!!! The time-travel stuff didn't even occur to me at first. Then it hit me and I'm like..omg, I have to try this out. Okey dokey, I'll keep your email on my list and I'll be sure to inform you!!! Thanks!!!!
KS: Lol *salutes*, will do!!! Was this fast enough!!! Thank you for reading!!!
DD2: Yay! I'm lovin' writing it!!! Thank you so much for reading, DD!!! *gives a big grin back*
madmentalscot: Brilliant? *laughs nervously* no, no, but thanks. Ah, and don't you worry, there will be a *lot* more Harm and Mac very soon!!!! Thank you so much for reading!!
mia: LoL, thank you! AH! Do school, though! It's good for you! (or so they keep telling us)!!! Thank you for reading!!!!!!! Ah! And you're lucky number 40 on the review list! THANK YOU, MIA!!!!!
Kiwi: LoL, yes, I have a certain happy dance I do when I'm...well...happy, lol. Thank you for your support and for coming back!!!!
SarahRabb705: Oh, thank you for such nice words!!! The encouragement means so much! Thank you for reading!!
Corrine: LoL, well, this chapter is gonna be a little shaky in the beginning, because is still trying to overcome the realities of the situation. But yes, I do believe she'll bump into our favorite couple!
Chloe1: Thank you for coming back! Yes, we should see some interaction between Grace and our dynamic duo...thank you!!!
jagchick105: Yay! I've accomplished eerie-ness!! That was a fun chapter to write, because I could do anything I wanted. And now that I've got those first two "explanation chapters" out of the way, the real story can begin!! I'm glad you've been well! I know what you mean, it's so hard to update consistently. Ahhh, whatever happened to those lovely, lazy summer vacations......*pop*....I'm good, thank you!!!
Deb: Omg, Deb, I'm sorry! I sort of imagined Grace being born around 2004. So that would put *her* time in around 2020. Thank you for reminding me, I'll make and author's note. Eventually, yes, she's gonna "run into" mom and dad. Ohh, I can't wait to write the rest!! Thank you for reading!!!
Marines_Sis: Thank you! Where did I come up with it??? Well, Sis, somewhere, in the deep, scary caverns of my brain, the little idea pushed and strained to get to the surface and *POP*! Instant idea! LoL, do I wish all of them came like that! Thank you! I try to update as soon as I can!!!
snosamie6: Cool, thank you for reading!!!
emokid: Ah, you can bet your math homework it'll be updated soon!!! Thank you for reading! Ah! You're lucky number 50 on the review list! THANK YOU, EMO!
Katherine: Thank you for reading! Hmm, the thought about Singer's baby did cross my mind. If I do something with it, I don't think it's going to be the center of the story. I'll think about it! Thank you!!
starryeyes10: Oh, you can bet your starry eyes that there will be a chapter three! :D
maggie: Thank you so much! It's fun to write, and even nice when I realize ppl like it!! Thank you!!!!!!
marineJAG: Look down and see!! Thank you for reading!!!
girlgunner: Thank you! I had *so* much fun writing the beginning cause I could pretty much do whatever I wanted. Now it's going to have to get a little more serious and I have to watch myself! Ah! And you shall see more Mac and Harm!!! (btw, your same review came up four times, so I just deleted the other three, but the first should still be in there).
pendray: Yay! Thank you for reading! I hope this came in by Friday night, sometimes it skips to Saturday morning! Thank you for the support!!!
One minor note. A reviewer reminded me that I never stated what year Grace had come from. I assumed she was born somewhere around 2004. So the year she was at was 2020. Thanks, Deb! Now, on with the story!!
Chapter 3: To Go Where No Girl Has Gone Before
1335 ZULU
12902 Elk Lane
Georgetown, Virginia
Two thousand-two. Year...two thousand-two. Grace rolled the words around in her head, trying to make sense of them. Meanwhile, Mr. Bink eyed the bloody bump on her forehead. "You all right, kid?"
No, I'm not, I've gone insane. "Yeah." Grace backed away from the Camery into the street with Mr. Bink's eyes on her the whole time.
"You really should see a doctor, that doesn't look good."
Grace ran. To where, she didn't care. Anyplace that made sense. But deep inside, she knew such a place didn't exist anymore.
***
1520 ZULU
CIA Headquarters
Virginia
Grace wasn't sure why this was the first place she went to. It seemed to her that perhaps a mental hospital was the most appropriate place for her go at the moment. But she'd also been taught that if something was happening that couldn't be explained, the U.S. government probably knew what was going on.
It occurred to Grace that the CIA Headquarters didn't change one bit. As a little girl, when her father sometimes had meetings here, Grace always remembered the feeling of being extremely isolated. The people were never too friendly either. The only thing she really liked was being able to watch the fish in Clayton Webb's office. Otherwise, it was boring white walls, gray, tightly knit rugs, and stern faces. So as she was escorted down the hallway, and Grace realized that everything looked the same, it gave her a little comfort.
The tall Corporal that had grilled her at the entrance, knocked on the gray door displaying Webb's name. Clay's voice from inside said to come in. Grace's eyes widened and her mouth hung open for a moment before she clamped it shut.
He actually had hair!
It was Grace's first realization when the door was opened and she saw the CIA operative's head bent over his work. The Corporal stood at the door, awaiting his next orders. Webb started to lift up his head as he finished writing something. When he was done, he put the pen down and looked straight at the Corporal.
"Don't leave just yet." Webb stood and walked right over to Grace, with purpose in his stride.
"Let's get something straight, kid," he started off, "I don't appreciate pranks. This is a place where life-changing decisions are made and national security is upheld. Now I want a good explanation of how you think you know Commander Rabb."
Grace blinked. She'd gotten to this point...now what? She'd lied her little head off to the marines at the gate, saying that she was in need of help. Then she started to ramble about things her mother told her about Clayton Webb. It had apparently been enough to get her here.
Grace looked over at the Corporal, who was standing perfectly at attention. "Um, does he have to be here?"
The Marine shifted his far-away gaze to Webb who shoed him away. "Stay outside the door."
Once he left, Grace bit her lip, and sat down in one of the chairs opposite the desk. Webb sat in his own chair, waiting for an explanation with a smug expression on his features.
Grace opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Everything she could say suddenly sounded stupid to her. Webb leaned forward a little, as if that would help the information come out.
"Well?" He snapped.
Grace stirred. It was now or never. "My name is Grace Rabb, Mr. Webb, and...quite simply, my father is Admir—uhm, Commander Harmon Rabb Jr."
Webb blinked, and his whole body was still. When Grace didn't say anything else, he leaned back in the seat and stared at the fish tank against the wall. "And I thought I knew all the secrets about that guy." He murmured.
Grace fiddled with a loose string of the jean jacket she was still wearing. "Um, well, this is kind of the hard part to understand."
Webb shifted his gaze back to her. "I—," Grace stopped, it still sounded so ridiculous to her, "something's happened to me," she took another moment to form the words in her head, "something...quite unbelievable, actually. You see, my mother is Colonel Sarah Mackenzie—"
Webb choked on his coffee and stood to wipe the spilled drink off his expensive suit. As he did this, he then started to laugh. "Nice try, kid. But since you obviously didn't do your research, you wouldn't know that the Colonel and Rabb hadn't even met since about eight years ago."
Grace closed her eyes in frustration and finally admitted to herself that this was a stupid idea to come here. But she was too in the thick of it now to back away. "Okay, Mr. Webb, this is the really hard part to understand—"
Sitting back down, he put a hand up to silent her. "Look, it was a nice try, and I don't how you know those names, and I don't really care, but—"
Webb continued to lecture her, but Grace didn't listen. She went through the memories in her head searching for something her parents told her about Webb. Something she could use. When it hit her, Grace started in the chair and pointed at Webb.
"You arranged the theft of the Declaration of Independence seven years ago!" Feeling a surge of satisfaction, Grace leaned back in the chair, crossed her arms over her chest, and grinned. Meanwhile, Webb had gone frozen again and the gears in his brain seemed to stop.
"Who the hell do you work for?" He said weakly.
Grace laughed. "I'm sixteen, Webb. I don't work for anybody. I know about the theft, because my parents told me. Well, they were discussing it, and I just overheard."
Webb stood and backed away behind his chair. While staring at Grace, he fumbled with the drawer next to him and took out a small handgun. Grace's expression sank and she stood slowly.
"Listen to me a minute, Webb. This is going to sound crazy, but..." Grace fought with her words again, but decided to come right out and say it, "...I'm from the future."
That was the icing on the cake, and Grace swore if Webb's eyes got any bigger they'd pop right out of his head.
"Who are you?" He said it more as a statement than a question, because the answer seemed to scare him.
Grace sighed. "I told you, my name is Grace Rabb and Harmon Rabb and Sarah Mackenzie are my parents. Now I'm not sure how I got here, but I am here and I need somebody's help!"
Webb started to calm down a little bit as he lowered the weapon, but his face was still twisted with anxiety. "Prove it."
"Prove it? I just said that you staged the theft of—"
"Shh!"
Grace lowered her voice. "Look, I can tell you anything you want, so just ask me!"
Webb thought about that for a moment as he sat back down, still holding the gun. "What else do you know about the...theft?"
"Not much, just that you staged it, and my father once used that information to blackmail you into getting information for him when a prison escapee took the Admiral, Bud Roberts, and my mother hostage—"
Webb put up a hand. "Stop...stop. Just...let me think for a minute because as of this moment, you are a threat to national security."
A sick feeling formed in the pit of Grace's stomach. Webb wouldn't be able to help her. Why did she think he could? She had to get out of here now. As Webb mumbled to himself, Grace stood and backed away to the door. He noticed her movement and whipped up his head.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Grace put her hand on the doorknob. "I won't say anything, Mr. Webb. I promise. But I have to leave."
"You are not going anywhere." He said as he stood and pointed at her. He then reached down for his phone, dialing an extension. "This is Webb, send a security detail up—"
Turning the doorknob, Grace pulled the door open and slipped out to come face to face with the Corporal. He crossed his arms and glared down at her. Not a second later, Webb's door swung open and two marines emerged from an elevator at the end of the corridor.
"Take her to confinement, now. I don't want her off the premises—"
"Am I interrupting something, Webb...I thought we had an appointment..."
Grace felt her knees go weak at the familiar voice, but when she turned to run into her father's arms, she saw someone quite different. At that moment, it felt like Grace's insides were being twisted in different directions. She knew this man, but she didn't. She also didn't care and she wrenched herself away from the Marine's grasp and ran to him, wrapping her arms around him. He stood rigidly at first, his arms hanging limply to his sides, but Grace just buried her face into the familiar uniform. Eventually, she felt his hand pat her on the back. But there was no fatherly love to it. This man didn't know her, but Grace didn't care. She knew him.
The corridor was silent and all that could be heard were Grace's soft sobs.
***
Webb paced his office, stopping at certain points, and then moving again. It was starting to get on Harm's nerves.
"Would you just sit down, Webb, you're makin' me dizzy."
He complied, but then started to tap his fingers on the desk. "I just want to know exactly how she got that information." Webb said gravely.
Harm leaned forward in the chair. "Did she give you any explanation?"
Webb glanced over at the attorney, and started to tap his fingers faster. "Yeah, but you wouldn't believe me if I told you." He muttered.
"It doesn't matter if I believe it, Webb," Harm said as he ran his fingers over the gold fabric on the cover in his hands, "It matters if she does."
He stopped tapping his fingers and leaned back in the chair. "She thinks she's from the future." Webb replied mockingly.
Harm bit his lip and sighed. "Well, we don't have to rule out insanity." After a moments pause, Harm continued, "I want to see her. She might be more comfortable talking to me."
Webb scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Right, because she thinks you're her father."
Harm shrugged. "Like I said, the only thing that matters is what she believes."
Harm took Webb's silence as a yes and stood to go to the door.
"You know what scares me the most, Rabb?" Webb asked as Harm opened the door.
"What?"
"That fact that she looks a lot like you and Mac."
***
Harm observed the interrogation from the other side of the one-way mirror. The CIA agent, Special Agent Laux, wasn't getting anywhere. The girl just wouldn't talk. Harm knocked on the glass, and Laux all but jumped up and swiftly strode out of the interrogation room.
"Who are you?" He was a spry, little man who was considerably shorter than him, and Harm had to look down to speak to him. He was young, in his early thirties, but with the confidence in his voice, he had obviously been part of the agency for a while. Perhaps it was even a family business.
"I'm Commander Harmon Rabb with the JAG Corps." He said as he extended his hand. They shook hands as the agent introduced himself.
"Special Agent Paul Laux. You're the guy Grace believes she's..." Laux let his voice trail off as if finishing the sentence would make Harm uneasy. In a way, Harm was grateful. The whole situation made him a little uneasy.
"You think you'll have better luck with her?" Laux asked as he nodded at the girl, who had come up to the glass and tapped it softly and then backed away.
Harm studied her features. It was uncanny to see those big brown eyes, staring out blankly. It was like looking at Mac. Harm nodded. "Yeah, maybe."
Harm opened the heavy metal door and stepped into the room. The girl was still at the one-way mirror, studying her reflection. She gingerly touched the bump on her head, which had been cleaned up when she was brought to the infirmary. She didn't even seem to notice him until she saw his reflection in the mirror. She turned around and crossed her slender arms over her chest.
The expression she now wore wasn't like the one she'd displayed when she first saw him. When she ran to him and hugged him (and refused to let go until the marines dragged her away), it had been an expression of desperation and a craving for some kind of affection. Now her face was...almost hateful. Though it was a strong word, it wasn't too far off base. Her entire face was drawn into a frown and Harm couldn't help but feel guilty for causing it.
"Hi." He started off. Though simple, it seemed like the best way to begin the conversation.
"I'm not talking anymore," she said sternly, "it only gets me into trouble." She murmured more to herself.
Harm shrugged and wandered over to the metal table, placing his briefcase on it. "I suppose it can get some into trouble. But it can help too. So why don't you give it another try?" Harm gestured to the chair across from him.
The girl hesitated, but eventually unfolded her arms and sat down. Harm sat down as well and opened his briefcase.
"Twinkie?" He held up the snack and watched as the girl's eyes widened at the sight of it. She moved to grab it, but faltered, as if waiting for permission. Harm handed it to her. Wasting no time, she ripped the plastic away and devoured the treat. The Naval officer narrowed his eyes. "When was the last time you ate?"
She raised her eyes to the ceiling, trying to think. "Yesterday," she said after she swallowed, "we had an early dinner."
Harm caught the girl's use of "we" and wasn't sure if she was referring to him as well. He shrugged it off.
"Grace, I know you probably don't want to answer this, but it's very important you tell me how you know some of the things you told Mr. Webb."
She wadded up the plastic wrapper, holding it tight in her fist and fixing her eyes on the metal table. "I've already told you, Dad."
Harm swore he could feel every bone in his body jolt. She called him...Dad. But the strangest thing about it was that it felt so...proper. And she had said it like it was the most normal thing in the world. Harm pretended not to be struck by it.
"You told Mr. Webb that you were from the future." Harm answered for her, trying to sound as serious as he could.
Her tranquil expression remained. "I know no one believes me. I'm having trouble believing it myself." A smile suddenly spread across her face. Somewhere in Harm's subconscious, he knew that smile came from him.
She kept her eyes glued to her reflection on the table. "I should have just taken them trick or treating..."
Harm decided to let off the abstract questions. "Why don't you tell me about your family? You have any siblings?"
Grace seemed pleasantly surprised by the sudden change, and she played along. "Jake and Isabel."
Harm almost laughed, thinking about the possibility of Mac and him having three kids. Instead, he just smiled. "You fight with them?".
"Sometimes. Just simple sibling rivalry. But you'd know about that, with Uncle Sergei and all."
Harm's breath caught in his throat. For being a prankster, as Webb had suggested, she was doing a damn fine job of hiding it.
"Uncle Sergei?"
She began to fiddle with a loose string from her oversized jean jacket. "Grandma always used to say that the two of you reminded her a lot of Grandpa—"
Harm stopped taking notes, and a shiver ran up his spine. "What do you know about my father?"
Her expression was of pure innocence, and she looked at him as if she felt bad for him. "His Tomcat went down over Vietnam when you were five. He was an MIA. Then sometime later on, I think in the early eighties, he was transported to Russia, and a peasant woman took him in. Years later, he was killed trying to save her from drunken soldiers. When you and Mom went to look for him a few years ago, that's when you discovered he'd died. He was buried somewhere in a forest. You also discovered your half-brother, Sergei...Uncle Sergei."
She said it so simply, like it had been explained to her several times before. Harm's mouth went dry and it felt like he was chewing on cotton. "Who told you that?"
She shook her head and shrugged as tears welled in her big, brown eyes. "You did."
Harm searched through his mind, trying to find a logical explanation. There really was only the remote possibility, that her parents, or someone she knew, had connections, and that there was a leak in the system. And a good dozen or so people knew what happened to his father. But where was the motive? What did she want? Who did she work for? These were the questions Webb had told him to ask. But as Harm looked into her eyes, he only saw the innocent child she claimed to be.
"Grace, the doctors are going to give you some medicine to help you sleep." Harm said out of the blue, his voice hollow.
She suddenly leaned forward, those innocent eyes now filled with anxiety. What was she afraid of?
"With needles?" She asked, her voice shaky.
Harm made a half smile. "No, with pills."
She swallowed. "So...no needles?"
Harm smiled as he stood and he patted her hand. "Don't worry, you'll be fine."
Grace took his hand before he turned away. "I want to see my mother."
It took Harm a second to remember she meant Mac. "We'll see. Get some rest."
***
1930 ZULU
Grace counted the ceiling tiles to try and ignore the pain in her head. They given her the pills, but Grace had tucked them under her tongue, and the doctor didn't bother to check. So now she held the two tiny capsules tightly in her palm.
At the moment, she was in her cell, a simple eight by eight room with depressing cement walls, a small metal table, a big mirror on one side of the wall, and a cot in a corner. She lied on her back on the single, lumpy mattress with a hand up pointing to each tiny tile.
...343...344...345...
She sneezed. After blinking for a moment, Grace sighed and started yet again. Grace imagined they made the ceiling this way for the prisoners being kept here. So many tiny squares, aching to be counted.
1...2...3...4...
If there was ever a time for Grace to feel bad for herself, this was it. What was she supposed to do now? She'd been here for six hours and everyone had already poked, prodded and all but stamped the word "insane" on her forehead. But how could she blame them? She felt a pang in her stomach remembering what she and her father had discussed. How the color drained from his face as she described his past. Grace wanted to ram her head into a wall for being so stupid. Just what did she think she'd gain by coming here? Did she expect some kind of explanation? A simple answer to her problems? Yes. She did. But it was clear the government didn't have one.
...17...18...19...20...
To Grace's surprise, her father didn't seem that different. He was friendly, which she knew was something that could never have changed, but down-to-business...which definitely didn't change. Where was the side of him that he hardly ever talked about? The exciting, daring stories that Grace usually only heard from her mother? Grace recalled a time in eighth grade when they were studying the Vietnam War. For extra credit, students could set up interviews with anyone who was involved, veterans and such. Grace of course knew she could slam-dunk the essay with her father's comments. When she approached him, he was hesitant, but agreed. But only after a couple questions, her father stood up and walked out of the room. Utterly confused, Grace went to mother for an explanation. All her mother told her was that he probably just didn't want to expose her to what he had seen. Since then, he'd treated her like she was some frail gem, and it drove her crazy. But when he didn't allow her to go to the party, Grace drew the line there. She wasn't going to let his fears control her life.
...52...53...54...55...
That's when her thoughts drifted back to two nights ago at the dinner table. Would she be stuck here forever? Would she never being able to go back and say sorry to her father? And she knew he deserved an apology. She acted rashly and unfairly by digging up old memories of a place she knew her father wanted to forget, and then using them against him. And all along, he was right. She felt small and young at that party. She'd tried the beer, but saw no glamour in it. It smelled disgusting, left a funny after-taste, and gave her a headache after a few sips. Clay had teased her about it, but she knew he felt the same way she did about the party. And why did she even feel the need to impress Ben? What was in it for her? A chance to hang with his clique? Perhaps even a date? Last night, the answers seemed so obvious. If Ben wanted her jump, she'd ask how high. But now, it felt so meaningless. She didn't care about Ben or being in a popular group. She cared about going home.
...89...90...91...92...
***
1940 ZULU
"This is no place for her, and you know it, Webb."
Harm and Clay stood outside Grace's cell. Harm watched her through the one-way mirror.
Webb leaned a shoulder against the cement wall, casting a worried glace to Harm. "What are you talking about? She knows things, Harm. Classified information! Whoever she works for will be sorry they hired her."
Harm scowled. "She's a kid, Webb, she doesn't work for anybody!"
"How do we know that? Since 9-11, security has been beefed up to an insane point, which only makes the spies more desperate! They'll use any tactics to get what they need—"
"Let her stay with me." Harm said exasperatedly.
Webb shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. "What?"
"Let her stay with me, I'll keep an eye on her, makes sure she doesn't talk and if...if she's working for someone, she'll be safe."
The operative still seemed confused. "So, what, you're going to be her bodyguard or something?"
Harm shrugged. "And besides, I think we both know she's not going to tell you anything in this place."
The CIA operative shook his head at Harm's stubbornness. "Have you ever even lived with a teenage girl?"
Harm's brow creased. "...No...but she's just a kid, how bad can it be?"
Webb bit his lip, his eyes darting back and forth from Harm to Grace. "I've heard it's not easy.
"What's not easy?"
The two of them straightened as Mac closed the door behind her and walked up to them. "What's this about, Harm? You paged me during a cross-examination. I had to tell the judge it was an emergency."
Harm pointed to the girl on the other side of the glass. Mac narrowed her eyes as she looked in on her. "Who's that?"
The former aviator smirked. "Our daughter."
Mac shot her partner a look that made his skin tingle. "It—it was a joke."
Making a theatrical sigh, Webb started to unfold the story to the marine.
***
1950 ZULU ...Harry...Lily...Steve...Gina...After counting the squares (all 1080) twice, she found herself naming them. Grace had already thought of everyone in her immediate, and extended family, so she then tried to think of famous saints, popes, presidents, vice presidents and composers. Now she just chose random names.
...Carrie...Penny...Aaron...Josephine—
Grace's body jolted when the door was unlatched from the other side and opened. She shot up in the cot, feeling the muscles in her back strain since she'd been in the same position for so long. She didn't have to see to know who it was. The smell of the familiar perfume entered her nostrils and memories flashed before her. Times when she was little, listening to her mother hum to her softly and stroke her hair as she held her close. A breeze would pour through the window, blowing that sweet scent around the room that almost made Grace dizzy with delight. Other times, a storm would wake her, and she'd find herself huddled next to her mother in her parent's bed. She would concentrate on her mother's breathing and try to match it. Then she'd inhale deeply so she could breathe in that mixture of wildflowers and fresh air, and she would be able to ignore the frightening thunder booms and fall asleep. All those years of motherly comfort and love made Grace forget where she was and what was going on around her. All she could see were autumn leaves, all she could hear was the soft giggles of mother and daughter, and all she could smell was that delicate, sweet scent. But when Grace opened her eyes, the gray walls, tile floor, and hundreds of dull, little squares greeted her. But there she was, standing in the middle of room, her eyes wandering over this strange girl.
Over the years, middle age had crept up on her mother and fines lines could be seen in her face, but there was still evidence to support the fact that she'd been a very beautiful woman. And the evidence stood right in front of her. It was strange at first to see her mother in that uniform. Supposedly, her mother had retired a few years after she was born. So Grace had only been accustomed to her wearing civilian attire. The uniform made her look strict and it displayed her in a no-nonsense manner. To prove this, she stepped up to Grace and held out her hand to be shaken. Grace stared down at it for a moment, but eventually extended her own hand.
"Hello, Grace. I've heard a lot about you." Her voice was different, with her tone being clipped and cool.
Grace slid off the cot and crossed her arms. "And I know all about you." She said defiantly, just to make her point, but suddenly feeling strange to be talking to her mother like this.
A moment later, Dad—or "Harm" as he'd asked her to call him—stepped into the room and stood next her mother. Grace couldn't help but smile. If her father were in dress whites, and her mother in a white gown, they'd look just like their wedding picture. The image disappeared as Webb came in too, standing next to her mom. Grace narrowed her eyes. She'd heard a rumor that Clay had wanted her mother at one time.
"You're being...transferred." Webb said with a sigh.
Grace felt a lump form in her throat. Transferred? Where would they move her to? A mental facility?
"You're being placed under my care." Harm said this with a pause in between, as if he'd rehearsed the line over and over, but still couldn't say it right because he was nervous or something.
Grace cocked and eyebrow. "You mean I'm going to live with you?" It wasn't like she'd be uncomfortable with it, she'd lived with him for sixteen years, but it still surprised her. Why not just keep her here?
"Grace, we know there are things you're not telling us. But we have a theory. We believe you're running from someone. An employer, perhaps."
That was a good idea. Why didn't she think of it before? She, Grace, was a kid who got mixed up with bad people who wanted her to get them information. Feeling she was in danger, she decided to break away and run to the very people she was stealing information from. Then, in a desperate attempt to prove her innocence, she made up a preposterous story about being from the future. Grace had to smile, these people were good. They'd given her a net to fall on.
Remembering her drama classes, Grace stiffened her back and stuck up her chin. The CIA had created her now, and she had to play along.
***
TBC
***
Not too much info in this chapter. I'm just trying to form a foundation to work with and it ended up taking up a lotta space! More stuff will be happening in the next chapter! And sorry this took longer, I had the chapter written up Friday, but then discovered a few things didn't make sense, so I switched stuff around and re-wrote some things too. Hope it came out all right! Expect the next chappy by next week! Thanks!
~sancti