And Now, the End is Near...
Chapter 1: Morning Routine
Disclaimer: All characters from the television show JAG and the show itself are the property of CBS and Donald P. Belisario. The characters Ron Allen, Matthew and Samantha Rabb, story, and storyline contained herein is the intellectual property of J.S. Levin copyright June 1, 2004 and may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the author's consent. Inquiries may be directed to the email address contained in the author's profile.
Spoilers: Through Season 10
A/N: This story is set 18 years from the end of Hail & Farewell Part I (May 2022). I am assuming that Harm and Mac figured out a way to keep their baby deal alive and made it successful (more so than they had planned). Please also keep in mind that the characters are 18 years older and thus, personalities may have changed a bit.
A/N 2: I desperately need a beta reader for the remainder of the story. Anyone who is interested should contact me at the provided e-mail address in my profile.
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Rabb Residence
Washington, DC
1043 Zulu (0543 local time)
"Harm....Harm, wake up!"
Rear Admiral (Upper Half) Harmon Rabb, Jr. felt his wife's hands shaking him, but tossed and turned in bed before finally opening his eyes to see the face of his wife, Marine Major General Sarah MacKenzie-Rabb.
"Huh? Oh...morning, Jarhead," he said groggily.
"Morning, Squid. You have a big day ahead of you," she whispered to him.
"Not one that I've been particularly looking forward to..." he murmured.
"Come on Harm, you knew this day was going to come eventually. You're almost 59 years old. The JAG Corps can't keep you on forever," she commented.
"Yeah, but another few years wouldn't have hurt too much. Hell, AJ retired at 60. Besides, you can't honestly say that you're not happy to finally be getting the chance to take over my office permanently. Jeez, I mean, as miserable as I am right now, even I can't say that I'm not happy for you, Sarah," he said, swinging his legs out of bed and walking over to the bathroom.
Uh-oh, she thought, it's never a good sign when he calls me Sarah. "True enough, but even so, I'm going to miss having you around the office. Working as an aide to the SecNav is not what you were cut out for," she told him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before he found the bathroom door. "But look on the bright side, squid. We're each getting another star out of this, and you somehow managed to stay in the Navy. Plus, you'll only be a few miles away over at the Pentagon. We both know that it was either this or retirement."
Grudgingly, he admitted that she was right to himself as he entered the bathroom. His relationship with the current SecNav had an unbelievable story behind it, so when the SecNav needed a new aide and Deputy Chief of Naval Operations (DCNO), it did not come as a shock to most of the Navy that Harm was going to be it. The timing of the open position was interesting, however, as it happened to open just as Harm was being forced to retire as Judge Advocate General of the Navy.
After showering, shaving, brushing his teeth and throwing on his shirt and pants, he found himself in front of the bathroom mirror, tying his tie. When he was finished, he studied himself for a moment.
His short, spiky, once brown hair was now mostly gray, some wrinkle lines from age marred his face, but otherwise, he was just as fit as he had been twenty years before. Aside from that, the only true tellers of his age were the two stars on his right shirt collar lapel. The silver from them glinted in the bathroom light against the peanut butter colored shirt. Damn, Rabb...you ARE getting old. I don't remember having this much gray hair.
Mac walked in behind him in her olive green USMC uniform, put her arms around his waist, and laid her head on his left shoulder. At least she still looks as good as she did the day I met her. She's still sexy in that uniform too. A small smile crossed his lips.
"Whatcha thinking, Flyboy?" she asked sweetly, noticing the tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Same thing I have for the past twenty-six years. How beautiful you are," he said, tilting his head to the left so it leaned on hers.
"Don't think sweet talking is going to get you out of waking up the twins, it's your turn," she smiled back.
"I can't believe they're going to the Academy this fall. They grew up so fast. Where did all the time go?" he asked and lamented softly, with a hint of amazement in his voice.
"I dunno, sailor. Speaking of time, it's 0651 hours, we've got eight minutes and thirty seven seconds to get outta here or we'll be late. Again," she reminded him pointedly.
"Mac, we've been married for seventeen years. When are you going to tell me how you do that?" he said, as he finished cleaning his razor.
"I'll tell you on our twentieth anniversary, how 'bout that."
"Promise?" he asked her.
"Promise," she said, "and we both know a Rabb never breaks a promise."
"Even a MacKenzie-Rabb?" he joked.
She giggled and lightly pushed him towards the door, "Yes, even a MacKenzie-Rabb,"
Harm walked down the upstairs hallway of the home he and Mac had bought just after he found out that she was pregnant with Samantha and Matthew. He knocked on his daughter's door twice and called, "Sam, can I come in?"
"Sure, Dad, come on in," he heard her say through the door. Harm opened the door and poked his head in to find his daughter dressed, sitting on her bed and looking over some papers, which were spread all over the bed. "What's up?" she asked, looking up from her papers.
A fleeting smile spread across Harm's face as he said, "Other than the fact that your bed reminds me a hell of a lot of my desk? Not too much. Just wanted to make sure you were up on time. Got a test today, honey?"
"Nope...no test, just kinda reviewing a little bit of info on Annapolis for the fall, you know the drill. As for me getting up on time, I'm well aware that I've got exactly...32 minutes and 14 seconds to make the bus," she said staring off into space, but not looking at a clock.
"Okay, kiddo, just so long as you're up," Harm told her as he shut her door. It never ceased to amaze him that though it took her longer to figure out, as if the time were harder to discern in her mind's eye, she (and her brother) also had her mother's gift of an internal clock.
He went further down the hallway to Matt's room, and poked his head in, as he had done with Samantha, to find him lying in bed on the Internet with his OLED computer. "Morning, Dad," he called out, as he pressed on the plastic screen, rolled up the computer, and put it back into its cylindrical plastic protection tube.
"What're you up to, Matt?" he asked, curious as to what his son had been doing online. He hated the portability and cheap prices of computers these days. They were now everywhere, and very little control had been extended to parents, much like television had been for the kids at the turn of the millennium.
"Not much, Dad. I was checking with the academy to pick a career path ahead of time. I know Sam wants to do your thing and be a naval aviator, but I'm thinking more about the Marines," he said seriously, knowing what was coming.
Harm rolled his eyes and gave his son an 'are you really serious' look. The look then softened as he said, "Matt, what branch you choose to serve in is up to you, but please, please, don't tell your mother about the marines until you're sure, okay? She'll never let me hear the end of it."
"Okay, dad. Look at it this way, it could be worse...I could become a sub driver like Uncle Sturgis," he grinned.
"Good point," Harm remarked lightly as he shut the door.
He had just started to walk down the stairs when Mac called up to him, "Come on, Flyboy, double time it, hit the afterburners, whatever you want to call it! Just get your six down here...we're going to be late again!"
"Hey, Ninja Girl, it just occurred to me...I'm the boss...I can't be late," he mentioned as she threw him his officers jacket.
"Way to go Flyboy. It only took you until your last day as boss to figure that one out!" she scolded/laughed at him as he put on the peanut butter jacket. He also grabbed his hat and briefcase, and Mac's garrison cap.
For security reasons, the Navy had decided to return to a World War II design for uniforms during the spring and fall. The "chunky peanut butters," as they were known to Naval personnel, sported rank insignia on the shirt lapels and the shoulder-boards of summer whites on the jacket. Marine uniforms, however, remained largely unchanged since Harm had joined the Navy.
He handed Mac the garrison cap. She looked down at it and quickly polished the two stars with her sleeve before flashing Harm a smile. She then went outside, waited for him to shut the door, and then they walked over to and climbed into Harm's new Lexus, and drove off.
TBC. . .