Spoilers: "People vs. SecNav"
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Saturday; 0119 Zulu; North of Union Station
"You're serious, sir?" Bud asked, his eyes widening as he set his fork down with a clatter. "Five years... wow, I can't believe the two of you actually went through with it."
"BUD!"
"It's all right, Harriet," Harm chuckled. Reaching for his glass, he caught Mac's soft smile and shot her a knowing look. "It *was* a pretty unique agreement, but since when have either of us done anything the traditional way? Pass the salt, please."
Obliging, Mac handed him the shaker. She paused to take a sip of water. "Something the matter, Bud? You seem perplexed."
"No, not at all, ma'am," he replied, snapping his eyes up to meet hers. "Sir, ma'am, what are you going to tell Admiral Chegwidden? I mean, aren't you worried about how this will affect your careers?"
"We told the Admiral shortly after Mac's pregnancy was confirmed," Harm admitted. "He wasn't exactly thrilled, but at least he didn't go ballistic."
"No, he just threatened to ship us off to Alaska," Mac said dryly, shooting Harm a sideways glance.
"So *that* was what you were talking about," Harriet exclaimed, then smiled sheepishly at Mac and Harm's questioning stares. "You were chatting a little loudly about polar bears on your way through the bullpen, and the conversation seemed so strange that it stuck with me. It makes *a lot* more sense now."
Harm grinned. "Anyway, he said he would see what he could do."
"I believe his exact words were 'give me time to figure out how to handle this mess'," Mac coughed politely.
Shrugging, Harm speared a piece of lasagna with his fork. "Same difference."
"He's looking into it though, right? That's something."
"Bud, you always were an optimist," Harm chuckled.
Harriet looked across the table at Mac. "So, ma'am, how have you been feeling?" she asked, deliberately changing the subject.
"Fine, I guess," Mac answered truthfully. "A little morning sickness on occasion, but nothing major. The tea you gave me has really helped."
"I'm glad. I used to keep peanut butter crackers in my desk drawer for whenever I started to get queasy. They always seemed to do the trick."
"Aside from the Admiral, have you told anyone else yet, sir?" Bud asked.
"No, just you two." Shaking his head, Harm swallowed and looked at Mac.
"What about Mattie and Jennifer? Or your mother and stepfather?"
"We didn't want everyone at JAG to know before we were ready," he said, raising one eyebrow. "Remember when the Admiral punched out last year?"
"I see your point, sir."
"But sir, what about your mother?" pressed Harriet. "I would have imagined her to be among the first people you'd tell."
"Well, normally she would be, but," Harm paused to take a sip of water, "she and Frank would probably hop the earliest flight out to Washington--"
"Which would make things a little awkward with Mattie and Jennifer. That makes sense," nodded Harriet. "When are you planning to tell them?"
Mac shot Harriet a sympathetic smile. "In a few weeks, once I'm past the first trimester," she said. "Just in case."
The table fell silent for a few minutes while they enjoyed the meal. Then Bud unexpectedly raised his glass.
"I'd like to propose a toast," he said. His gaze traveled around the table to each of his three companions as they followed his lead. "To friends and family." The sounds of laughter and glasses clinking mingled, echoing warmly throughout the apartment.
"To friends and family."
* * * * * * * * * *
Wednesday; 1630 Zulu; JAG Headquarters; Falls Church, Virginia
Stepping off the elevator in the direction of the bullpen, Mac was heading into her office when she heard her name being called. She turned around to see Jennifer Coates weaving through the maze of desks.
"Colonel, the Admiral would like to see you ASAP."
"Did he say what it was about?"
"No, ma'am, he didn't," Jennifer apologized.
"Okay. Thank you, Coates." Dropping the folder she'd been carrying onto her desk, Mac immediately headed for her CO's office. Knocking on the open door she could see the Admiral sitting at his desk. Harm was already standing at attention before him.
"Come on in, Colonel," Chegwidden directed. "Nice of you to join us. Close the hatch, please." Obeying, Mac pulled up at attention next to Harm.
"Reporting as ordered, sir."
"At ease." Picking up two pieces of paper from the desk in front of him, the Admiral idly contemplated his senior attorneys before handing a page to each. He gave them a few minutes to read through the identical documents.
"Sir?"
"Those are letters from the SecNav," Chegwidden explained gruffly, leaning forward onto his elbows. "As I recall, Mr. Sheffield owes both of you for keeping him out of a Dutch prison."
"The war crimes tribunal, sir?" Mac and Harm glanced at one another, then back at their CO. "I don't think I understand."
"Colonel, not only did you and Commander Rabb successfully defend the Secretary of the Navy, you helped the United States save face among the 'civilized' nations of the world in the process. Therefore, based on your meritorious conduct at the Hague, the SecNav has granted special dispensation in the event that you two make any *legal* changes to your status. The letters you're holding are from the SecNav's office and will be added to your permanent files."
"Wow, sir, I..." Uncharacteristically at a loss for words, Harm faltered as he and Mac returned the pages to Chegwidden. "Thank you, sir."
Mac nodded in agreement. "We both appreciate your efforts, sir."
"You're welcome." Removing his glasses and setting them down, the Admiral looked at Mac. "How have you been doing, Colonel? Everything all right, I hope?"
"Yes, sir, so far I seem to be breezing through," she replied, relaxing at A.J.'s suddenly warm smile.
"Glad to hear it. By the way, I couldn't help but notice Mr. Roberts carrying your briefcase for you yesterday morning." He squelched a laugh at the priceless sideways look Harm shot in Mac's direction. "I'm assuming he knows?"
"He does, sir," she admitted. "We told Lieutenant Roberts and Lieutenant Sims this past weekend. She... figured it out, sir."
This time he laughed openly. "I imagine she did. Have you informed anyone else that I should be aware of?"
"No, sir," Harm answered respectfully.
"Well, keep me in the loop. Now if you don't mind, I have some things to finish before my lunch meeting. Dismissed."
"Thank you, sir."
Heading for the door, Harm waited until they'd cleared the Admiral's line of sight before flashing Mac a broad flyboy grin. She heaved a sigh of relief and grinned back. Their biggest professional obstacle had been cleared -- neither would have to leave JAG anytime soon.
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To be continued...
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A/N: Since I'm neither a lawyer nor in the military, I don't know if the SecNav would have the power to grant that kind of waiver for Harm and Mac. Consider this another example of artistic liberty... I don't use it very often, so hopefully you'll forgive me!
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
Saturday; 0119 Zulu; North of Union Station
"You're serious, sir?" Bud asked, his eyes widening as he set his fork down with a clatter. "Five years... wow, I can't believe the two of you actually went through with it."
"BUD!"
"It's all right, Harriet," Harm chuckled. Reaching for his glass, he caught Mac's soft smile and shot her a knowing look. "It *was* a pretty unique agreement, but since when have either of us done anything the traditional way? Pass the salt, please."
Obliging, Mac handed him the shaker. She paused to take a sip of water. "Something the matter, Bud? You seem perplexed."
"No, not at all, ma'am," he replied, snapping his eyes up to meet hers. "Sir, ma'am, what are you going to tell Admiral Chegwidden? I mean, aren't you worried about how this will affect your careers?"
"We told the Admiral shortly after Mac's pregnancy was confirmed," Harm admitted. "He wasn't exactly thrilled, but at least he didn't go ballistic."
"No, he just threatened to ship us off to Alaska," Mac said dryly, shooting Harm a sideways glance.
"So *that* was what you were talking about," Harriet exclaimed, then smiled sheepishly at Mac and Harm's questioning stares. "You were chatting a little loudly about polar bears on your way through the bullpen, and the conversation seemed so strange that it stuck with me. It makes *a lot* more sense now."
Harm grinned. "Anyway, he said he would see what he could do."
"I believe his exact words were 'give me time to figure out how to handle this mess'," Mac coughed politely.
Shrugging, Harm speared a piece of lasagna with his fork. "Same difference."
"He's looking into it though, right? That's something."
"Bud, you always were an optimist," Harm chuckled.
Harriet looked across the table at Mac. "So, ma'am, how have you been feeling?" she asked, deliberately changing the subject.
"Fine, I guess," Mac answered truthfully. "A little morning sickness on occasion, but nothing major. The tea you gave me has really helped."
"I'm glad. I used to keep peanut butter crackers in my desk drawer for whenever I started to get queasy. They always seemed to do the trick."
"Aside from the Admiral, have you told anyone else yet, sir?" Bud asked.
"No, just you two." Shaking his head, Harm swallowed and looked at Mac.
"What about Mattie and Jennifer? Or your mother and stepfather?"
"We didn't want everyone at JAG to know before we were ready," he said, raising one eyebrow. "Remember when the Admiral punched out last year?"
"I see your point, sir."
"But sir, what about your mother?" pressed Harriet. "I would have imagined her to be among the first people you'd tell."
"Well, normally she would be, but," Harm paused to take a sip of water, "she and Frank would probably hop the earliest flight out to Washington--"
"Which would make things a little awkward with Mattie and Jennifer. That makes sense," nodded Harriet. "When are you planning to tell them?"
Mac shot Harriet a sympathetic smile. "In a few weeks, once I'm past the first trimester," she said. "Just in case."
The table fell silent for a few minutes while they enjoyed the meal. Then Bud unexpectedly raised his glass.
"I'd like to propose a toast," he said. His gaze traveled around the table to each of his three companions as they followed his lead. "To friends and family." The sounds of laughter and glasses clinking mingled, echoing warmly throughout the apartment.
"To friends and family."
* * * * * * * * * *
Wednesday; 1630 Zulu; JAG Headquarters; Falls Church, Virginia
Stepping off the elevator in the direction of the bullpen, Mac was heading into her office when she heard her name being called. She turned around to see Jennifer Coates weaving through the maze of desks.
"Colonel, the Admiral would like to see you ASAP."
"Did he say what it was about?"
"No, ma'am, he didn't," Jennifer apologized.
"Okay. Thank you, Coates." Dropping the folder she'd been carrying onto her desk, Mac immediately headed for her CO's office. Knocking on the open door she could see the Admiral sitting at his desk. Harm was already standing at attention before him.
"Come on in, Colonel," Chegwidden directed. "Nice of you to join us. Close the hatch, please." Obeying, Mac pulled up at attention next to Harm.
"Reporting as ordered, sir."
"At ease." Picking up two pieces of paper from the desk in front of him, the Admiral idly contemplated his senior attorneys before handing a page to each. He gave them a few minutes to read through the identical documents.
"Sir?"
"Those are letters from the SecNav," Chegwidden explained gruffly, leaning forward onto his elbows. "As I recall, Mr. Sheffield owes both of you for keeping him out of a Dutch prison."
"The war crimes tribunal, sir?" Mac and Harm glanced at one another, then back at their CO. "I don't think I understand."
"Colonel, not only did you and Commander Rabb successfully defend the Secretary of the Navy, you helped the United States save face among the 'civilized' nations of the world in the process. Therefore, based on your meritorious conduct at the Hague, the SecNav has granted special dispensation in the event that you two make any *legal* changes to your status. The letters you're holding are from the SecNav's office and will be added to your permanent files."
"Wow, sir, I..." Uncharacteristically at a loss for words, Harm faltered as he and Mac returned the pages to Chegwidden. "Thank you, sir."
Mac nodded in agreement. "We both appreciate your efforts, sir."
"You're welcome." Removing his glasses and setting them down, the Admiral looked at Mac. "How have you been doing, Colonel? Everything all right, I hope?"
"Yes, sir, so far I seem to be breezing through," she replied, relaxing at A.J.'s suddenly warm smile.
"Glad to hear it. By the way, I couldn't help but notice Mr. Roberts carrying your briefcase for you yesterday morning." He squelched a laugh at the priceless sideways look Harm shot in Mac's direction. "I'm assuming he knows?"
"He does, sir," she admitted. "We told Lieutenant Roberts and Lieutenant Sims this past weekend. She... figured it out, sir."
This time he laughed openly. "I imagine she did. Have you informed anyone else that I should be aware of?"
"No, sir," Harm answered respectfully.
"Well, keep me in the loop. Now if you don't mind, I have some things to finish before my lunch meeting. Dismissed."
"Thank you, sir."
Heading for the door, Harm waited until they'd cleared the Admiral's line of sight before flashing Mac a broad flyboy grin. She heaved a sigh of relief and grinned back. Their biggest professional obstacle had been cleared -- neither would have to leave JAG anytime soon.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
To be continued...
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
A/N: Since I'm neither a lawyer nor in the military, I don't know if the SecNav would have the power to grant that kind of waiver for Harm and Mac. Consider this another example of artistic liberty... I don't use it very often, so hopefully you'll forgive me!