Spoilers: the end of "Close Quarters" and the beginning of "Posse
Comitatus" Summary: How will Harm react to the olive branch Mac offered
him at the end "Placating the Shifting Sands?" This fits in perfectly at
the beginning of "Posse Comitatus." Note: This comes after "Following (et
al) the Shifting Sands." I may start pulling everything together to come
to some sort of conclusion since the season is starting to look better and
therefore leaves me with little to angst about. Thank you for taking time
to read and review my humble additions to the episodes of season nine!
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0758 EST JAG Headquarters Falls Church, Virginia
Harm let out a giant yawn as he stretched his arms over his head, leaning back in his chair in the process. His briefcase was propped open on one of the remaining boxes next to his desk, and there was an assortment of files taunting him with the drudgery of unfinished paperwork that lay ahead of him.
Despite the fact that he was on his third cup of coffee that morning, he was still tired after the all-nighters he'd pulled to catch up on the Imes cases. But he had signed off on the last of them last night, and today was Friday. He'd catch up on his sleep over the weekend.
Harm started a mental list of everything he needed to accomplish that day in order to get out of the office early without incurring the wrath of Admiral Chegwidden. He was finally back on his CO's good side after they'd come an understanding as to how Harm should act in the office. Finishing up his Imes cases in record time would just give him bonus points.
He thought back to that conversation in the admiral's office where he'd ventured to ask for clarification as to whether he needed to prove himself or be himself. After Chegwidden's "Do what you do" concession, Harm had risked getting his six chewed out when he'd pointed out the mountain of work he'd been buried under since his return. Luckily, the fallout had been positive. Actually, it had been downright amusing. It would be a while before he would forget the look on Mac's face when the admiral told him to pass her the Singer/Imes cases.
Mac. She was the reason he'd left JAG and floundered outside the military for months, only to take up residence in the admiral's dog house upon returning. But he had to admit that having the smelly closet office and a two-star on his case was better than unemployment. And Mac had seemingly accepted him back at the office, humoring him and his never-ending attempts to save the world, one misguided veteran at a time.
Mostly, Harm was relieved that he and Mac seemed to have gotten all of the harsh words out of their way before his return. And then there was the apology he'd found on his pillow the night before he was to report back to work. Without thinking, he grabbed his wallet out of his briefcase. From behind the black and white photo of him and his father on the Ticonderoga, he pulled out a neatly folded piece of yellow paper. Carefully, he opened the page and re-read its contents.
'Harm--I know I should have said this a long time ago, but thank you for coming to my rescue. I owe you my life yet again. I won't make any excuses for how I've treated you since then; I'll just say I'm sorry.
I've missed my best friend. It will be good to have you back at work.'
The night she'd left the note scribbled on a legal pad, he'd been out making sure that Mattie would be taken care of until he could escape from work to check on her again. He had been puzzled to find the light on in his room when he arrived home, but that had quickly changed to surprise when he found the message from Mac. He hadn't realized until he read those words that the main reason he'd been angry with her was because she never gave him any sort of acknowledgement that she appreciated all he'd done to come to her rescue, as a friend or otherwise. This admission, coupled with an apology, had instantly soothed something inside of Harm. He couldn't explain exactly why he had put the note in his wallet for safe-keeping, but it had something to do with reminding himself that he hadn't lost Sarah MacKenzie quite yet.
Fingering the edge of the paper, Harm thought about a few things that he'd said to her in the past five months that he should probably apologize for, too, but so far he hadn't come up with a surefire way to do so and maintain the nice working relationship they were reestablishing.
"Knock, knock, Navy."
Harm was startled by the Marine occupying his thoughts appearing suddenly in his doorway. It was too late to return the note to its proper place without her noticing, so he set it face down on his desk with as much nonchalance as he could muster without making it look like she had caught him doing something taboo. He just hoped that she couldn't recognize the back of her note with it lying in plain view.
"The dead animal smell is gone, so it's safe to enter," he told her with a wry smile.
"I'll take your word for it," she said as she made no move from her position on the far side of the half-opened door. "I'm on my way to the admiral's office. He wants to see you, too."
"I'll be there in a minute."
"Make sure it's not any longer than a minute. You're just starting to get worthwhile cases again," she teased.
"I'll make sure to beat the tardy bell to the admiral's office, Ms. MacKenzie. I don't want to end up with detention on a Friday afternoon," he mocked. He had written proof that she'd missed him, and he had to admit that he'd missed bantering with his best friend, too.
Mac rolled her eyes with a smile. "Hope you studied up on the Posse Comitatus. Wouldn't want you to fail our pop quiz this morning," she threw back as she pulled the door partially closed behind her.
Harm thought about shouting after her that it wasn't a pop quiz if they knew about it in advance, but the sound of her heels clicking down the hall had already faded. He quickly folded up the yellow paper and returned it to its home in his wallet. Chugging down a few last gulps of tepid coffee, he made his way to the door, once again following the colonel to find out what fate would toss their way.
******
Written 25 November 2003
******
0758 EST JAG Headquarters Falls Church, Virginia
Harm let out a giant yawn as he stretched his arms over his head, leaning back in his chair in the process. His briefcase was propped open on one of the remaining boxes next to his desk, and there was an assortment of files taunting him with the drudgery of unfinished paperwork that lay ahead of him.
Despite the fact that he was on his third cup of coffee that morning, he was still tired after the all-nighters he'd pulled to catch up on the Imes cases. But he had signed off on the last of them last night, and today was Friday. He'd catch up on his sleep over the weekend.
Harm started a mental list of everything he needed to accomplish that day in order to get out of the office early without incurring the wrath of Admiral Chegwidden. He was finally back on his CO's good side after they'd come an understanding as to how Harm should act in the office. Finishing up his Imes cases in record time would just give him bonus points.
He thought back to that conversation in the admiral's office where he'd ventured to ask for clarification as to whether he needed to prove himself or be himself. After Chegwidden's "Do what you do" concession, Harm had risked getting his six chewed out when he'd pointed out the mountain of work he'd been buried under since his return. Luckily, the fallout had been positive. Actually, it had been downright amusing. It would be a while before he would forget the look on Mac's face when the admiral told him to pass her the Singer/Imes cases.
Mac. She was the reason he'd left JAG and floundered outside the military for months, only to take up residence in the admiral's dog house upon returning. But he had to admit that having the smelly closet office and a two-star on his case was better than unemployment. And Mac had seemingly accepted him back at the office, humoring him and his never-ending attempts to save the world, one misguided veteran at a time.
Mostly, Harm was relieved that he and Mac seemed to have gotten all of the harsh words out of their way before his return. And then there was the apology he'd found on his pillow the night before he was to report back to work. Without thinking, he grabbed his wallet out of his briefcase. From behind the black and white photo of him and his father on the Ticonderoga, he pulled out a neatly folded piece of yellow paper. Carefully, he opened the page and re-read its contents.
'Harm--I know I should have said this a long time ago, but thank you for coming to my rescue. I owe you my life yet again. I won't make any excuses for how I've treated you since then; I'll just say I'm sorry.
I've missed my best friend. It will be good to have you back at work.'
The night she'd left the note scribbled on a legal pad, he'd been out making sure that Mattie would be taken care of until he could escape from work to check on her again. He had been puzzled to find the light on in his room when he arrived home, but that had quickly changed to surprise when he found the message from Mac. He hadn't realized until he read those words that the main reason he'd been angry with her was because she never gave him any sort of acknowledgement that she appreciated all he'd done to come to her rescue, as a friend or otherwise. This admission, coupled with an apology, had instantly soothed something inside of Harm. He couldn't explain exactly why he had put the note in his wallet for safe-keeping, but it had something to do with reminding himself that he hadn't lost Sarah MacKenzie quite yet.
Fingering the edge of the paper, Harm thought about a few things that he'd said to her in the past five months that he should probably apologize for, too, but so far he hadn't come up with a surefire way to do so and maintain the nice working relationship they were reestablishing.
"Knock, knock, Navy."
Harm was startled by the Marine occupying his thoughts appearing suddenly in his doorway. It was too late to return the note to its proper place without her noticing, so he set it face down on his desk with as much nonchalance as he could muster without making it look like she had caught him doing something taboo. He just hoped that she couldn't recognize the back of her note with it lying in plain view.
"The dead animal smell is gone, so it's safe to enter," he told her with a wry smile.
"I'll take your word for it," she said as she made no move from her position on the far side of the half-opened door. "I'm on my way to the admiral's office. He wants to see you, too."
"I'll be there in a minute."
"Make sure it's not any longer than a minute. You're just starting to get worthwhile cases again," she teased.
"I'll make sure to beat the tardy bell to the admiral's office, Ms. MacKenzie. I don't want to end up with detention on a Friday afternoon," he mocked. He had written proof that she'd missed him, and he had to admit that he'd missed bantering with his best friend, too.
Mac rolled her eyes with a smile. "Hope you studied up on the Posse Comitatus. Wouldn't want you to fail our pop quiz this morning," she threw back as she pulled the door partially closed behind her.
Harm thought about shouting after her that it wasn't a pop quiz if they knew about it in advance, but the sound of her heels clicking down the hall had already faded. He quickly folded up the yellow paper and returned it to its home in his wallet. Chugging down a few last gulps of tepid coffee, he made his way to the door, once again following the colonel to find out what fate would toss their way.
******
Written 25 November 2003
