Title: In A Garden
Chapter Five
By: LizD
Written: January 2004
Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.
In A Garden – Part 5
Mac, Chloe and Hailey stayed another seven days with some prodding from Harriet and Harm. The night before they were set to leave, Chloe was in her room packing.
"Man on deck," Harm said knocking on her door, but remained in the hallway.
"You can take the man out of the Navy, but you can't take the Navy out of the man," she said stuffing clothes into her duffel.
"Does that mean you're descent?"
"For Christ's sake, Harm. Come in."
He walked in and surveyed the damage she had done to his study. "Some things never change," he stated.
She scanned him up and down. "I could say the same thing about you."
"So Mac tells me that you are not headed back to Georgetown until next semester."
"That is a true statement."
"She also tells me you are pre-law."
"Also correct," she was annoyed by his questions.
"So what are your plans this summer?"
"Thought I would write the great American novel and retire on the proceeds to the movie rights."
"Ever thought of clerking in a law firm?" he asked directly.
"Working twenty-four hours a day for no cash --- yeah, I thought about it – dismissed it out of hand."
He picked up some shoes she left drying on the radiator and handed them to her. "You and Mariana hit it off pretty well."
She took the shoes and dropped them on the floor. "Say what you have to say, Harm."
"We need a law clerk."
"Who is we, paleface?" She put her hand on her hip and challenged him.
"I – me – rather the agency."
"You are asking me to clerk in your office?"
"It would be a lot of hard work and I can't pay you."
"Can't understand why you don't have people lining up outside the door with an offer like that."
"However, you would earn college credit."
"And?"
"And I would give you free room and board and – say fifty dollars a week."
"Out of your own pocket?" She was confused by the offer.
"My money not green enough for you?"
"What else? Do I have to wash the kitchen floor or scrub the toilets?"
"Be here the couple nights a week that I can't be for the boys."
"So you are looking for a live in baby sitter."
"Jesus, Chloe you are harder to talk to than -- ."
"Than who?" she demanded.
"Never mind," he exhaled forcefully. "Here is the deal – up front and on the table – room, board, use of the car and fifty bucks a week for the summer – or until I wring your neck."
"In exchange for?"
"Thirty hours a week at the office clerking and ten hours a week watching the kids."
She ran her tongue over her teeth. "Which ten hours?"
"Tuesdays and Thursdays – five to ten."
She thought about it a little more – she was expecting the deal to be much worse. "Would I have to stay in this room?"
"You would have the room Mac is in with the private bathroom."
"Are you going to check where I am going every night?"
"Come and go as you please – although it would make Mac happier to know that I at least rated some courtesy."
"You talked about this with Mac first?" Chloe didn't like the idea of Harm and Mac talking about her.
"I broached her on it briefly – but no – not really."
She thought a little more. "I get the Vette?"
He was struggling on this point.
"Harm?"
"Is it a deal breaker?"
"Not sure," she smiled; she knew she had him.
He let out a reluctant groan. "You ride to work with me on Monday, Wednesday and Friday and the rest of the time you get the Vette."
"No cooking? No cleaning?"
He picked up some dirty towels she had tosses across his desk chair. "Your own."
"Ok."
"No drinking – no boys – males – no parties – in the house."
"Done."
"Done?"
"You got yourself a clerk/sitter," she held out her hand for him to shake.
He took it reluctantly. "God help me."
"Somebody has to."
Harm rolled his eyes and started to walk out.
"Hey," she called after him. "This won't make me think you're a nice guy or anything, you know."
"I know."
"So why are you doing this?"
"Cause I am a nice guy," he grinned and left.
"Says you."
A few weeks later Harriet was in Harm's office dropping off some files that needed to be signed. Harm was buried in paper. He barely noticed that she was there.
"Chloe is doing a great job," Harriet stated to get his attention.
"Who?" He took the folders from her and started to sign.
"Chloe."
"Yeah – what is this?" he pulled out one thick bunch of papers.
"Ruiz custody."
"They settled?"
"Kate Mendelson took care of that one."
"Good ol' Kate," Harm smiled and signed off on the seven or eight places he was supposed to sign. "Thanks, Harriet."
Harriet was not through. "Why did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Why did you take her on?"
"Who? Kate?"
"Chloe."
"Oh, um. It was actually Mac's idea," he went back to reading the files he was working on but realized that Harriet wanted more. "Not the staying in San Diego part, but clerking in a law office for the summer. It is good experience for her."
"Yes it is."
"I was glad to be able to offer her the opportunity," he said nodding toward the door suggesting that she leave. She didn't move. "Something else Harriet?"
"Have you talked to Mac recently?"
"Last night," he looked back down.
"Must have talked to her after I did."
"I guess."
"She seems to be doing pretty well."
"Who Mac? I suppose."
"Harm for God's sake." Harriet was frustrated.
"What?" He finally looked up from his files. "What?"
"What are you going to do about it?"
"What?"
"Mac?"
"Harriet," he nodded for her to leave.
"Are you just going to let her go AGAIN?"
"I am not LETTING her go," he stated. "Our lives are more complicated now."
"Your lives were less complicated then and you still didn't do anything about it."
"Harriet – she lives three thousand miles away – what am I supposed to do?"
"All I am saying is that you have been different – dare I say HAPPIER – since her trip west and you started talking again."
"So, you can't leave well enough alone?"
"No."
"Try," he smiled at her to let her know that he was not angry but he was through discussing Mac with her.
The summer progressed as summers often do. For the young and free, work and goals for the future seemed so far away they didn't seem important. All that was important was the weekend and the next party and who was dating whom. At least that is how it appeared to Harm. Chloe and Mariana became fast friends – thick as thieves – and developed a large group of 'running mates,' as Harm called them. Chloe never missed a day of work nor did she fail to take care of the boys on her assigned nights (which Harm often excused her from), but she also never missed an opportunity to go out. Harm assumed it was with her friends though he met few of them.
There were a couple of boys – sorry, young men - that would call or come by to take her out on the weekend. Harm didn't like any of them, but was not given an opportunity to voice an opinion or to act the concerned - - - What was he to Chloe? Brother? Uncle? Boss? Land Lord? Surely they weren't friends. Who knows – whatever they were to each other was yet to be defined.
He barely ever saw her at home. She would pass through at breakfast, but never actually ate. She was good to the boys when she was home and was very attentive to them. At work she and Harm were always going in different directions. The only time they actually had to talk was the drive to the office in the morning. But it was ten minutes – does not give two strangers enough time to work up into a good conversation. Usually that time was spent talking about the cases. Chloe let him do most of the talking, which Harm took as disinterest.
By the fourth week, Harm thought she was blowing her opportunity to learn something that summer and was disappointed that he had made the effort for no reason.
"Mac, am I doing something wrong?" he asked one night on the phone.
Harm and Mac had taken to speaking a couple, three times a week.
"Why do you think that?"
"I don't know – she is the same old Chloe."
"Not that you knew the old Chloe – but what were you expecting?
"I don't know – something," he sighed. "I expected her to be excited about working for a good cause and – and – and I don't know."
"Maybe she might think differently of you?"
"This has nothing to do with me."
"Why do you care what she thinks?"
"I don't," he relented. He did care. "I do but that is not why I took her on. I think she has a lot of potential. You should see some of the briefs she has turned in. She is sharp."
"Have you talked to her about it?"
"When - before or after she gets home from a date, heads to a concert or takes off for the beach?"
"At the office."
"Mac, we are so swamped – we could use thirty Chloe's."
"And at least one more Harmon Rabb?"
"Cloning has been seriously considered," he laughed.
"Not sure the world could handle another one."
"Would give me more free time - - - to pursue other interests," he said suggestively. "How are you, anyway?"
"I'm well – very well. Work is hectic – par for the course. But I do like having the house to myself on the weekends."
"Alan is taking Hailey every weekend?"
"Not everyone – but at least three out of the last four weekends."
"How is it between you and him?"
"Fine. We are fine."
Harm had to ask this next question and he need to be a casual as possible. "Any hope for a reconciliation?"
"I think we are past that."
"But you talk and are civil with each other."
"For Hailey. It is good for her to see us getting along."
"What about what's good for Mac?"
She paused and wanted to say something suggestive about what would be "good for Mac" but she chose to not say anything.
He continued. "Hey – you know what? I have a trip to Washington this Friday - - -."
"We could meet for dinner."
"We could," he was disappointed that that was all she was offering.
"Or?"
"Well, I was thinking --."
"That always gets you into trouble."
"Hear me out. I am done with what I need to do on Friday afternoon. I could fly back late Saturday night and we could – I don't know … spend the day together."
"Spend the day together?"
"Yeah – sailing, a picnic. We could take SARAH up."
"Your plane is still back here?"
"Yep. Sitting there; waiting for me – with your name on it -- literally."
"The last time we took her up it did not turn out so well."
"No poachers, I promise."
"In fact flying with you has never been a good experience," she laughed. It was good to laugh about the old days.
"So we are due."
"Let's see how the rest of the week goes. Where are you staying?"
"Well – I usually stay at the Marriott – but it would have to go on the agency tab and we are always trying to save a buck."
"Or you could sleep on my couch," she offered because she felt compelled to. He had managed to back her into the corner.
"Or there – or some where in the general vicinity of your couch," he grinned. "In order to save the agency some cash."
"All in the name of a good cause," she smiled and he could hear it on the other end.
"A very good cause," she was silent. "I would give you a receipt and you could write it off on your taxes."
She stifled a laugh as not to let him know that he got to her, but he knew. "What time does your plane land?" She sighed, but clearly she loved the idea of a night and day alone with Harm.
Wednesday afternoon Harm was working in his office when Walter Lawson entered unannounced.
"Rabb."
Harm looked up. "Walter. What can I do for you?"
"You can tell me about my grandsons."
"They are fine." Harm hated when Walter asked about them. Walter made no effort to get to know the kids. They were objects to own and display, not little persons to nurture and love. Harm continued, unphased. "They are better than fine. They are well adjusted and happy."
"Still have Mrs. Johnson taking care of them?"
"When I am at work. But they are home with me every night."
"Linda has been home from the hospital for over a week now."
"Good."
"She is doing very well."
"Also good."
"She wants to see the boys."
"We'll set up a time for Sunday – lunch or something."
"She is ready to take on more of a role in their lives than that."
Just then Chloe knocked on Harm's open door. "Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. Harm I need the keys, I have to get these papers filed," she waved a bunch of documents at him.
He stood up and pulled the keys from his pocket and extended his hand for the papers which she handed over reluctantly. "Who reviewed these?"
"You did, HARM," she played.
"Who originally wrote them?"
"That would be me – your faithful servant."
"Very good. Note that, would you?" He handed the file and the keys to her. "Thank you."
Harm turned his attention back to Walter – who had watched the entire exchange. He walked to the other side of the office and looked out the window to the parking lot below. "So, Linda wants to take a large role."
"She does."
"How much larger?"
"She and her doctor feel that she could be the primary care person."
"Excuse me?" Harm flipped back around.
"What I mean to say is that she could take over the responsibility of taking care of them while you were at work."
"Isn't that a little much?" He shook his head. "She just got out of the hospital."
"It was more of a rest home than a hospital."
"Walter this has disaster written all over it."
"Harm, she is better. She misses her boys. She is their mother."
"Forgive me if that doesn't pull my heart strings. She has been away more than half their lives."
"They are turning two in a couple of weeks."
"Yes they are."
"She has already lost two years; she wants to make up for lost time."
"My first reaction is to say NO."
"I trust that is not your last reaction," he warned in the I-own-the-world way and can-make-life-very-difficult tone.
"It is for today. Give me some time to think about it."
"So you won't let her see them?"
"I didn't say that. I said I wouldn't let her be their child care five days a week. I am going to need some time to see her with them and to talk to them about it, first. We could ease into it."
"You are making a mistake," he stated with as much attitude as a man used to getting his own way can.
"I am thinking about my boys."
"Then we are both men who put their children first."
"There is nothing I won't do for them," Harm warned.
Walter stood and fixed his eyes on Harm's. "I know exactly how you feel."
That night Harm was up late working on a Flanders case. A brother and sister, Carroll (13) and Mike (10), needed to be placed in foster care. The idea was to keep them together, but the problem was they fought like cats and dogs. They had been tried in a number of homes, but lasted less than a month in each place. The other problem was, they refused to be separated. That had been tried too, but their behavior was worse when they weren't together. It was going to take a miracle to find the right place for them before the system just locked them up and threw away the key. Harm was looking into "military" alternatives. He knew a couple of former drill instructors that might just be the perfect match for these kids. Convincing them to take the kids on was a bigger challenge.
Chloe had just gotten home and walked by the study. She was carrying a bunch of books. She stopped and looked in.
"What are you still doing up?" She asked. "You got court in the morning."
"Preparing," he looked up and was surprised to see all the books in her arms. "Where were you?"
"Law library," she dropped the books on the chair. "Never knew research could be so much fun," she was being sarcastic (as usual) but there was something about her tone that led Harm to think that she was doing exactly what she wanted to do.
"What were you researching?"
"Stuff."
He laughed and shook his head. She was never going to give him a break. "Night Chloe."
"Night," she stepped away and then stepped back. "Hey, Harm."
He looked up.
"You are staying with Mac in Washington?"
"Yeah."
"Leaving the kids with me?"
"Mrs. Johnson said she would keep them over night."
"Could have left them with me."
"Thank you, maybe next time."
"There will be a next time?" She was now referring to his visiting Mac not his going out of town.
"Maybe."
"Ok," she started to leave.
"Not going to warn me to be on my best behavior."
"Don't mess up."
"I wasn't planning on it."
"Best laid plans, Harmon."
"I hear you. Go to bed."
"Yes, Dad," she shook her head and left.
Harm watched the last spot she was in for a long moment. Was the ice beginning to melt?
