Struggling to keep several files pinned under his arm, whilst carrying his briefcase at the same time, Harm swore under his breath as his car keys slipped out of his fingers. Hitting the ground with a metallic clink sound, they landed just behind the front wheel of the car. Hoping that not too people in the JAG building were about to witness him crawling around on his hands and knees in the parking lot, he put the files and briefcase down and did just that.
"Sir, are you alright?"
Instantly recognising the voice, Harm took a moment to retrieve the keys before twisting around to look up.
"I'm fine, Bud. Just dropped my keys," he explained, waving them in the air to illustrate his point.
"Aah, okay, Sir."
Bud didn't sound particularly convinced, although what other reason Lieutenant Roberts thought he had for crawling around in the parking lot he wasn't sure. For a second he considered asking but quickly dismissed the thought. He wasn't convinced he was up to that conversation just yet. His brain, not to mention his body, was reminding him that he'd barely slept the night before.
"Grab those files for me can you?" he asked instead, his friend's continued scrutiny making him feel uncomfortable. As Bud busied himself, doing as he'd been asked, Harm carefully levered himself to his feet. Not enough sleep by a long shot. He still felt as if he could crash out for a week.
Grabbing his briefcase he headed for the main entrance of the JAG building, shortening his stride to allow Bud to keep up. As they walked the younger man kept up a non-stop flow of conversation in a way that only Bud could. Grinning to himself, he let Bud's words wash over him, the simple, friendly companionship between them lifting some of the weight from his shoulders. He'd missed it he realised with a pang of guilt.
The separation had been his choice, not Bud's. It hadn't been Mac's either, he acknowledged, his mind wandering back to her miraculous appearance at his apartment the night before. But going to La Jolla had been the right thing to do at the time. They hadn't needed him here. He still wasn't sure that they did. Compensating for the fatal error he'd made on Petty Officer Robinson's case was impossible. Proving to his colleagues - his friends - he was still capable of doing his job might not be though. And he was determined to do it. He needed to.
"How did the interviews go this morning, sir?"
With a start, Harm realised Bud was actually talking to him as opposed to talking at him. "It went okay," he replied, rousing himself as they came to a halt outside the main entrance to the JAG headquarters. "Think I got us enough to give the prosecution a few sleepless nights."
Bud's face lit up in a grin. "You always do, sir."
"Glad you think so, Lieutenant."
The words slipped out before he could temper the hint of guilt in them. As Bud's smile slipped, his expression changing from one of admiration to confusion, he kicked himself. Self pity wasn't a luxury he could indulge in he told himself as he searched for a way to get out of the hole he'd just dug.
He needn't have worried though. Bud was - as always - there supporting him.
"Of course, sir," the Lieutenant replied, his bouncy enthusiasm dulled but not quenched. There was a pause as he nervously hitched the files back up under his arm, his eyes wandering to a spot somewhere to Harm's right. "It's good to have you back, sir," he started, his earnest tone doing nothing to ease Harm's own nerves. "You had us worried for a while back there..."
The omission of the final 'sir' told Harm that Bud was talking to him as a friend, not as a senior officer but he still couldn't find the words of reassurance he sensed the younger man needed. With his eyes still darting to some point behind him, to his right, he knew what Bud was looking at. A couple of hundred yards past the Marine guard post, where the trees on each side of the road blocked the direct view from the JAG building was the spot where Petty Officer Robinson had died. Suppressing a shiver he forced himself not to follow Bud's gaze. He'd already driven past the site several times that day: he didn't need to look again.
"Better get these files to Colonel Mackenzie," he said instead, shattering the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over them. "Don't want her chewing out my six."
"That you don't, sir."
Bud's smile was back, Harm noted with relief as he took the lead, walking into the building. Right now he had enough guilt complexes to last a lifetime. Upsetting Bud was one that he was quite happy to live without.
As they entered the bullpen, he nodded to the Marine guard at the entrance. Maybe it was just his imagination but the Marine looked genuinely pleased to see him. Granted, it was a different guard from the day before but there was none of the morbid curiosity he'd felt twenty-four hours previously. As he and Bud peeled off in different directions his eyes swept the room, studying the reactions of those around him closely. Smiles of welcome greeted him and he found himself smiling back.
Ignoring the protesting aches from his body he straightened his shoulders, his step lighter as he entered his office. He wasn't sure what the hell had happened but suddenly the world looked a hell of a lot brighter than it had twenty-four hours earlier.
Mac had happened, the little voice at the back of his mind insisted, resurrecting the argument he'd been having with himself ever since she'd left his apartment that morning. Somehow, and he still couldn't figure out how, she'd known that he'd needed her. So she'd come. It was as plain and simple as that.
It wasn't that plain and simple though, was it? A light brush of her fingers against his skin and he'd been putty in her hands - or he would have been if he'd let her. But letting her wasn't an option. She deserved better. If only his mind would stop replaying that look she'd had in her eyes right after she'd taken his sweater off the night before...
With a shake of his head he bought himself up short. She did deserve better. And he was going to make sure she got it. He'd mercilessly badgered her the night before over the drunk and disorderly case, something he wasn't proud of in the cold light of day. She'd brushed away his apologies that morning, her easy smile telling him that it was no big deal but still he felt the need to make it up to her. Hence his decision to make an early start on the interviews that day. And it looked like his hard work might just pay off. The interviews had taken the best part of the day but she was going to be impressed when she saw what he'd added to the case files.
The files. Damn it. "Bud, have you got those files I gave you?" he asked, striding back into the bullpen.
"Here, sir. I was just about to bring them through -"
"No problem, Bud." Turning on his heel, he noticed Mac's office was empty, the late afternoon wintry sky shrouding it in long shadows. Frowning, he turned back. "Where's Colonel Mackenzie?"
"In with the Admiral, sir."
The Admiral? "Did she say why?"
Bud shrugged in reply. "She just asked to see him, sir. She didn't say why."
***********
The ability to make subordinates feel nervous without even twitching a muscle was definitely a character trait that Admiral Chegwidden had been blessed with, Mac decided as she sat across from in his office. She'd only been sitting in his office for one minute and twenty-seven seconds but it felt like a lot longer. The wood panelled walls muted the noise from the bullpen outside. In the resulting silence the sound of the Admiral's pen scraping across the paper in front of him sounded unnaturally loud to her.
"Sorry about that," the Admiral apologised as he finally put his pen down and turned his attention to her. "Meeting at the Pentagon this afternoon. Damn people can't wipe their own noses without a signed order." With a sigh he pushed his chair back and leaned back in his chair to study her. "What can I do for you, Colonel?"
Good question, Mac thought suddenly feeling like a rabbit caught in car headlights. What could he do for her? If she asked the Admiral the wrong questions then it would sound like she was questioning his judgement, not to mention his authority, and that wasn't her intention at all. She hadn't been able to shake the idea though that the Admiral held at least some of the clues to explain Harm's behaviour. And, despite the fact that Harm claimed otherwise, she couldn't help feeling that he needed her help.
"It's about Commander Rabb, sir," she began, her attention on her hands entwined in her lap.
"Why am I not surprised?" the Admiral interjected, his eyebrows raising skywards.
"Yes, sir." Despite her nerves, Mac found herself smiling. "It's about the case you assigned us to -"
"The D & D?"
"Yes, sir."
"Not a problem is there, Colonel?"
"No, sir. Umm... I mean yes, sir."
"Which is it, Colonel? Yes or no?"
Swallowing hard, Mac dragged her thoughts together. "Yes, sir, there's a problem," she confessed, bringing her eyes up to meet the Admiral's.
Eyes narrowed, he stared back. "And?"
Uncomfortable with his scrutiny, she forced herself not to look away. "I was wondering why you assigned Commander Rabb as second chair, sir," she explained.
For a second she thought he wasn't going to answer. Looking down he picked up his pen and restlessly twirled it in his fingers. Her emotions warring between relief and disappointment his next question caught her off guard.
"You think the Commander isn't up to the task, Colonel?"
"No, sir!"
"You have a complaint about his work?"
"Of course not, sir! It's just that -"
"Yes, Colonel?"
Taking a deep breath, Mac sought for the eloquency that came to her so easily in the courtroom but seemed to have deserted her when she needed it most. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"
Slowly, the Admiral nodded. "Granted."
"Commander Rabb is one of your most experienced litigators, sir. A drunk and disorderly charge does not warrant both of us being assigned to it. I realise that he's only just been cleared for duty but I think he should be reassigned to a case as lead counsel, where full use can be made of his skills. Sir."
Lips pursed, the Admiral considered her request. "Are you questioning my orders, Colonel?"
Stung by the accusation, Mac leapt to defend herself. "No, of course not, sir," she insisted earnestly.
"Good."
Convinced she'd gone too far, she was on the verge of apologising when she caught the Admiral's gaze and the words died on her lips. There was understanding in his eyes. Mentally kicking herself for underestimating one of the most perceptive officers she'd ever had the honour of serving under, she acknowledged him with a faint smile.
"Thank you, sir." Forcing herself to be patient she waited silently as he sat back in his chair, thoughtfully tapping his top lip with his steepled fingertips.
"You have a good reason for making this request?" he asked her a moment later.
Sighing inwardly with relief, she nodded. "Yes, sir. I know Commander Rabb and I were only assigned the case yesterday but he's already becoming frustrated and I -"
"You don't think frustration is a good thing?"
Again she found herself smiling. "In Commander Rabb's case? No, sir."
"Go on."
"He's been out of action for four weeks, sir. He's not exactly good at sitting around doing nothing."
"You can say that again, Colonel."
"Yes, sir. I think a more challenging case, one that pushes him, is what he needs."
"I see." The Admiral had the pen in his hand again. "Colonel, has he told you anything about the Robinson case?"
Thrown by the change in subject, she struggled for a second to place the name. "Petty Officer Robinson, sir?" The Admiral nodded. "No, he hasn't," she told him, the realisation that Harm hadn't confided in her hurting more that she liked to admit. There hadn't been an opportunity she told herself, suddenly aware of the Admiral's scrutiny. And if she were to raise the subject now, when Harm had been cleared for duty, she would feel like she was opening up an old wound.
"Hmpf."
Frowning, she tried to decipher what 'hmpf' meant. Hopeful that the Admiral was going to enlighten her she waited, her disappointment growing, as he stayed silent. She'd come here hoping for answers and now she was even more confused.
"Well, Colonel, I'll consider your suggestion," the Admiral broke into her thoughts. "Dismissed."
Blinking with surprise she automatically sprung to attention. "Aye, sir."
Walking out of the office, acknowledging Tiner as she passed the Petty Officer's desk, Mac ran the discussion she'd just had over in her mind. Just what had she achieved? She'd made her point about Harm. The Admiral hadn't really argued though: not by the Admiral's standards. As she headed back to her own office the realisation dawned on her that she hadn't achieved anything at all.
********
"Sir, are you alright?"
Instantly recognising the voice, Harm took a moment to retrieve the keys before twisting around to look up.
"I'm fine, Bud. Just dropped my keys," he explained, waving them in the air to illustrate his point.
"Aah, okay, Sir."
Bud didn't sound particularly convinced, although what other reason Lieutenant Roberts thought he had for crawling around in the parking lot he wasn't sure. For a second he considered asking but quickly dismissed the thought. He wasn't convinced he was up to that conversation just yet. His brain, not to mention his body, was reminding him that he'd barely slept the night before.
"Grab those files for me can you?" he asked instead, his friend's continued scrutiny making him feel uncomfortable. As Bud busied himself, doing as he'd been asked, Harm carefully levered himself to his feet. Not enough sleep by a long shot. He still felt as if he could crash out for a week.
Grabbing his briefcase he headed for the main entrance of the JAG building, shortening his stride to allow Bud to keep up. As they walked the younger man kept up a non-stop flow of conversation in a way that only Bud could. Grinning to himself, he let Bud's words wash over him, the simple, friendly companionship between them lifting some of the weight from his shoulders. He'd missed it he realised with a pang of guilt.
The separation had been his choice, not Bud's. It hadn't been Mac's either, he acknowledged, his mind wandering back to her miraculous appearance at his apartment the night before. But going to La Jolla had been the right thing to do at the time. They hadn't needed him here. He still wasn't sure that they did. Compensating for the fatal error he'd made on Petty Officer Robinson's case was impossible. Proving to his colleagues - his friends - he was still capable of doing his job might not be though. And he was determined to do it. He needed to.
"How did the interviews go this morning, sir?"
With a start, Harm realised Bud was actually talking to him as opposed to talking at him. "It went okay," he replied, rousing himself as they came to a halt outside the main entrance to the JAG headquarters. "Think I got us enough to give the prosecution a few sleepless nights."
Bud's face lit up in a grin. "You always do, sir."
"Glad you think so, Lieutenant."
The words slipped out before he could temper the hint of guilt in them. As Bud's smile slipped, his expression changing from one of admiration to confusion, he kicked himself. Self pity wasn't a luxury he could indulge in he told himself as he searched for a way to get out of the hole he'd just dug.
He needn't have worried though. Bud was - as always - there supporting him.
"Of course, sir," the Lieutenant replied, his bouncy enthusiasm dulled but not quenched. There was a pause as he nervously hitched the files back up under his arm, his eyes wandering to a spot somewhere to Harm's right. "It's good to have you back, sir," he started, his earnest tone doing nothing to ease Harm's own nerves. "You had us worried for a while back there..."
The omission of the final 'sir' told Harm that Bud was talking to him as a friend, not as a senior officer but he still couldn't find the words of reassurance he sensed the younger man needed. With his eyes still darting to some point behind him, to his right, he knew what Bud was looking at. A couple of hundred yards past the Marine guard post, where the trees on each side of the road blocked the direct view from the JAG building was the spot where Petty Officer Robinson had died. Suppressing a shiver he forced himself not to follow Bud's gaze. He'd already driven past the site several times that day: he didn't need to look again.
"Better get these files to Colonel Mackenzie," he said instead, shattering the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over them. "Don't want her chewing out my six."
"That you don't, sir."
Bud's smile was back, Harm noted with relief as he took the lead, walking into the building. Right now he had enough guilt complexes to last a lifetime. Upsetting Bud was one that he was quite happy to live without.
As they entered the bullpen, he nodded to the Marine guard at the entrance. Maybe it was just his imagination but the Marine looked genuinely pleased to see him. Granted, it was a different guard from the day before but there was none of the morbid curiosity he'd felt twenty-four hours previously. As he and Bud peeled off in different directions his eyes swept the room, studying the reactions of those around him closely. Smiles of welcome greeted him and he found himself smiling back.
Ignoring the protesting aches from his body he straightened his shoulders, his step lighter as he entered his office. He wasn't sure what the hell had happened but suddenly the world looked a hell of a lot brighter than it had twenty-four hours earlier.
Mac had happened, the little voice at the back of his mind insisted, resurrecting the argument he'd been having with himself ever since she'd left his apartment that morning. Somehow, and he still couldn't figure out how, she'd known that he'd needed her. So she'd come. It was as plain and simple as that.
It wasn't that plain and simple though, was it? A light brush of her fingers against his skin and he'd been putty in her hands - or he would have been if he'd let her. But letting her wasn't an option. She deserved better. If only his mind would stop replaying that look she'd had in her eyes right after she'd taken his sweater off the night before...
With a shake of his head he bought himself up short. She did deserve better. And he was going to make sure she got it. He'd mercilessly badgered her the night before over the drunk and disorderly case, something he wasn't proud of in the cold light of day. She'd brushed away his apologies that morning, her easy smile telling him that it was no big deal but still he felt the need to make it up to her. Hence his decision to make an early start on the interviews that day. And it looked like his hard work might just pay off. The interviews had taken the best part of the day but she was going to be impressed when she saw what he'd added to the case files.
The files. Damn it. "Bud, have you got those files I gave you?" he asked, striding back into the bullpen.
"Here, sir. I was just about to bring them through -"
"No problem, Bud." Turning on his heel, he noticed Mac's office was empty, the late afternoon wintry sky shrouding it in long shadows. Frowning, he turned back. "Where's Colonel Mackenzie?"
"In with the Admiral, sir."
The Admiral? "Did she say why?"
Bud shrugged in reply. "She just asked to see him, sir. She didn't say why."
***********
The ability to make subordinates feel nervous without even twitching a muscle was definitely a character trait that Admiral Chegwidden had been blessed with, Mac decided as she sat across from in his office. She'd only been sitting in his office for one minute and twenty-seven seconds but it felt like a lot longer. The wood panelled walls muted the noise from the bullpen outside. In the resulting silence the sound of the Admiral's pen scraping across the paper in front of him sounded unnaturally loud to her.
"Sorry about that," the Admiral apologised as he finally put his pen down and turned his attention to her. "Meeting at the Pentagon this afternoon. Damn people can't wipe their own noses without a signed order." With a sigh he pushed his chair back and leaned back in his chair to study her. "What can I do for you, Colonel?"
Good question, Mac thought suddenly feeling like a rabbit caught in car headlights. What could he do for her? If she asked the Admiral the wrong questions then it would sound like she was questioning his judgement, not to mention his authority, and that wasn't her intention at all. She hadn't been able to shake the idea though that the Admiral held at least some of the clues to explain Harm's behaviour. And, despite the fact that Harm claimed otherwise, she couldn't help feeling that he needed her help.
"It's about Commander Rabb, sir," she began, her attention on her hands entwined in her lap.
"Why am I not surprised?" the Admiral interjected, his eyebrows raising skywards.
"Yes, sir." Despite her nerves, Mac found herself smiling. "It's about the case you assigned us to -"
"The D & D?"
"Yes, sir."
"Not a problem is there, Colonel?"
"No, sir. Umm... I mean yes, sir."
"Which is it, Colonel? Yes or no?"
Swallowing hard, Mac dragged her thoughts together. "Yes, sir, there's a problem," she confessed, bringing her eyes up to meet the Admiral's.
Eyes narrowed, he stared back. "And?"
Uncomfortable with his scrutiny, she forced herself not to look away. "I was wondering why you assigned Commander Rabb as second chair, sir," she explained.
For a second she thought he wasn't going to answer. Looking down he picked up his pen and restlessly twirled it in his fingers. Her emotions warring between relief and disappointment his next question caught her off guard.
"You think the Commander isn't up to the task, Colonel?"
"No, sir!"
"You have a complaint about his work?"
"Of course not, sir! It's just that -"
"Yes, Colonel?"
Taking a deep breath, Mac sought for the eloquency that came to her so easily in the courtroom but seemed to have deserted her when she needed it most. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"
Slowly, the Admiral nodded. "Granted."
"Commander Rabb is one of your most experienced litigators, sir. A drunk and disorderly charge does not warrant both of us being assigned to it. I realise that he's only just been cleared for duty but I think he should be reassigned to a case as lead counsel, where full use can be made of his skills. Sir."
Lips pursed, the Admiral considered her request. "Are you questioning my orders, Colonel?"
Stung by the accusation, Mac leapt to defend herself. "No, of course not, sir," she insisted earnestly.
"Good."
Convinced she'd gone too far, she was on the verge of apologising when she caught the Admiral's gaze and the words died on her lips. There was understanding in his eyes. Mentally kicking herself for underestimating one of the most perceptive officers she'd ever had the honour of serving under, she acknowledged him with a faint smile.
"Thank you, sir." Forcing herself to be patient she waited silently as he sat back in his chair, thoughtfully tapping his top lip with his steepled fingertips.
"You have a good reason for making this request?" he asked her a moment later.
Sighing inwardly with relief, she nodded. "Yes, sir. I know Commander Rabb and I were only assigned the case yesterday but he's already becoming frustrated and I -"
"You don't think frustration is a good thing?"
Again she found herself smiling. "In Commander Rabb's case? No, sir."
"Go on."
"He's been out of action for four weeks, sir. He's not exactly good at sitting around doing nothing."
"You can say that again, Colonel."
"Yes, sir. I think a more challenging case, one that pushes him, is what he needs."
"I see." The Admiral had the pen in his hand again. "Colonel, has he told you anything about the Robinson case?"
Thrown by the change in subject, she struggled for a second to place the name. "Petty Officer Robinson, sir?" The Admiral nodded. "No, he hasn't," she told him, the realisation that Harm hadn't confided in her hurting more that she liked to admit. There hadn't been an opportunity she told herself, suddenly aware of the Admiral's scrutiny. And if she were to raise the subject now, when Harm had been cleared for duty, she would feel like she was opening up an old wound.
"Hmpf."
Frowning, she tried to decipher what 'hmpf' meant. Hopeful that the Admiral was going to enlighten her she waited, her disappointment growing, as he stayed silent. She'd come here hoping for answers and now she was even more confused.
"Well, Colonel, I'll consider your suggestion," the Admiral broke into her thoughts. "Dismissed."
Blinking with surprise she automatically sprung to attention. "Aye, sir."
Walking out of the office, acknowledging Tiner as she passed the Petty Officer's desk, Mac ran the discussion she'd just had over in her mind. Just what had she achieved? She'd made her point about Harm. The Admiral hadn't really argued though: not by the Admiral's standards. As she headed back to her own office the realisation dawned on her that she hadn't achieved anything at all.
********
