Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

--

Episode: Surface Warfare

- Rock Creek Park, Washington D.C.

Deep in thoughts Loren jogged along the small natural path in the park. She passed another group of runners, considering them quickly out of the corner of her eyes as she did. Although she was going at a higher pace than most people on the track and her old sweatshirt was wet all over she was satisfied with her pulse rate and breathing.

Moving on autopilot she concentrated back on more important things. Like Westland. Webb's check - or better the check done by Naval Intelligence at Webb's request - had brought up nothing extraordinary. Not that anyone had expected something of that kind.

Andrew Westland. Age twenty-four. Parents lived near Charleston, South- Carolina, running a little gas station with a shop and being respected citizens of their town. The only sister married and proud mother of three kids - at the age of twenty-eight. Joint the Navy two years ago. Different assignments, the transfer to JAG because of a recommendation of his last commanding officer. No bad remarks in his service record but also nothing especially good. Participating in the usual social activities within the JAG staff of his rank but nothing special or doing it overly enthusiastic. No reported contact to old high school friends. No drug abuse known.

Loren scowled, picking up her pace. And that was all. Not much to go on. She approached two running men from behind. They turned their heads as she was at their side, noticed she was a woman and suddenly decided to do a quick sprint. Loren rolled her eyes. Men.

OK, not only. Women too. God, that look this Renee Peterson had given her... Well, she probably would too if someone was so obviously going after her boyfriend. She really felt greasy all over as soon as she switched on her Rabb-hunting mode. It was so ... well, probably a violent ugh explained it best! Even if she had been free... The man was handsome, all right. She would admit he had a dashing smile. But he simply wasn't her type. What an annoying job.

She reached the next hill, contemplated her options and finally voted against pace and for an equal pulse rate. She slowed down.

Westland. First she had thought she had shooed him away too efficiently. Thank God the boy was stubborn. But still, it was a difficult and strangely complex dance they were forced to do around each other. They had very carefully established first strings of an invisible web of favors. But it was really hard to tell if the Petty officer was acting on orders from outside ... or if he was just a kid having the hots for a woman higher up in rank.

Making the top of the hill Loren took the path leading back to her car. Her breathing was still regular. She shivered shortly as she went over her last train of thought again. Frightening imagination she could be wasting her time with a love-sick nobody. On the other hand ... there was something about the young man that was starting to give her the creeps the longer she knew him. Well, at least Webb was pleased with the progress.

Now she had just to survive the Surface Warfare Ball. Small talk with Renee Peterson, Harriet Sims and Sarah Mackenzie. She shuddered. Or, even more dreadful, with the male counterparts. Except for Mackenzie. Her counterpart was sitting in Australia. That was still a surprise. She had nearly fallen off her chair as Mackenzie had come back from Australia wearing Brumby's ring. On her right hand but still - wearing his ring. As unexpected as seeing Rabb dating Renee Peterson.

Well, at least they had a relationship. She had made up a date because Singer would have found a way to participate in the ball no matter what... If the poor boy knew the truth it'd be the surprise of his life. He wasn't that bad, quite sociable on the contrary. She just hoped she wouldn't break his heart when she was going to ditch him. Although she was supposed to built Singer's life inside and outside of JAG she definitely didn't intend bringing anyone innocent into danger by knowing him or her too close or for too long.

She sighed long and hard. Some things were necessary even if not pleasant. Somehow working undercover inevitably included hurting people - usually the wrong ones. There was no way to change this. And it was darn lonely. Without a way to change that either. She pushed these thoughts aside.

Getting her car in sight Loren slowed down to a fast walk and checked her pulse. Not bad. Really not bad. But coming back to the ball, she didn't have all day. She had to shower, get dressed, take care of her hair... She was still grieving for the ten inches she had had to have cut off. Anyway, she had really needed this little exercise to get her head clear again. Sometimes it was hard to be patient. Or to be so hard.

Episode: JAG TV

- Parking lot of JAG Headquarters

"Can I help you with that?"

Loren looked down at her really not very heavy briefcase and back up at the man in civil clothes. He was flashing a smile.

"Do I look so weak?" she asked back.

"Oh, no, no. I just - err - I just-"

Loren grinned. "And you are a reporter from...?"

"Why do you think I'm a reporter?" The man was definitely a bad actor.

She sighed theatrically. "Because you are a civilian in the JAG parking lot and inside is a trial that's sheer candy for any reporter who can get his hand on it. And one of the reasons for that is that the prosecutor is a certain Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie of the United States Marine Corps. So newspaper, radio or television?"

The man had the decency to blush. "ZNN."

"Uuuh," Loren stretched the word, "I'm impressed."

"Well..."

"You've got a name, Mister ZNN?"

"Stuart Dunston..."

"Stuart," Loren repeated and smiled, "Loren Singer."

The reporter considered her outstretched hand. He looked very surprised and a little bit worried. Loren fought back a laugh. The poor boy had probably had some encounters with other JAG staff members before. And most of them were reacting rather ... harsh ... because of the invasion of Colonel Mackenzie's private life. Well, that wasn't her problem and she sure didn't blame that boy for doing his job. What was more, some connections to the press could turn out to be useful - and that was something Singer would think about for sure.

Stuart finally shook her hand. Then he looked what he would probably describe as innocent.

"You know Colonel Mackenzie?"

Loren laughed and started walking again.

"We're working together." Not exactly a lie. Just the truth a little bit overstretched.

"Oh, really?" The reporter's interest jumped quite some degrees. "What's she like?"

"Buy me a cup of coffee and maybe we can talk about it," Loren challenged with a flirting smile. She didn't intend telling the boy much and for sure nothing out of Webb's files. But enough so he would be in her debt. Dealing with Westland had taught her a great lesson how to do that.

And who knew - maybe she'd discover something that could help the Colonel win her case. Of course she'd have to mask her source ... like the friend of a friend had heard something from a friend. Or something like that.