Title: Old Friends, New Relationships
Chapter Four
By: LizD
Written: Late Summer/Fall 2004
Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.
Old Friends, New Relationships
Chapter Four - Moving It To The Next Level
2056 EST
Rabb Residence
North of Union Station
Mac had ten minutes to quietly reflect on her day – ten minutes that Harm had given her as he extended his shower – ten minutes to think … to think and reflect … to think and reflect and formulate some questions … to think, reflect, formulate questions and start an agenda. Ten minutes - enough time to really ask herself what Gates and Harriet had asked: 'How was her love life?'
Harm came out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around him whistling some tune that Mattie had been playing over and over.
Mac was seated cross-legged on the bed. She had changed into shorts and had a folder in front of her but it was not open.
"Thought you were done for the night." He stated drying his hair with a clean towel.
"I am done with work."
"So what is that?" He gestured toward the file.
"Exhibit A."
"Exhibit A?" He turned away. "Building a case?"
"I am."
"For or against."
"That is a matter of perspective."
"Isn't it always." He laughed. "Can it wait until tomorrow?"
"No." She was firm. "We need to address this tonight."
"Tonight?"
"This isn't working for me, Harm."
He tossed the towel he was using to dry his hair into the hamper and focused a guarded attention on her. "What is not working for you?"
"None of it."
"None?" He was surprised and disturbed. He would not have guessed that she was unhappy with EVERYTHING. "None of what?" He challenged.
"Well, not 'none'." She corrected. "But not enough."
He sat down on the edge of the bed away from her. "Not enough of what?" His irritation was growing. He had stood at the ready of her picking just this kind of fight since they got together – but it really threw him for a loop that it was that night.
"I don't expect that we will resolve this tonight, but I want to raise the issues and get us thinking about resolutions."
He got up and moved to his dresser to pull out some boxer shorts. He quickly slipped out of the towel and into the boxers before he turned around to meet this discussion. "So you believe there are resolutions?"
"Of course there are – I just need your help to figure them out."
"Well … fine." Score one for Harm's side. There were resolutions and he would be a party to them. So whatever wasn't working for her was not fatal to the 'US' they were in. "What's in the folder?"
She shook her head. She would not reveal what was in the folder just yet. "I have a question to ask you first … it was asked of me several times today."
He nodded for her to ask away, but stayed standing.
"Harm, how's your love life?"
He couldn't help it – a laugh burst out of him. "What?"
"I am serious … how's your love life?" She restated.
"Is that a trick question?"
"Why would it be a trick?" She asked in earnest.
"There is no way I can answer that question and be right." He defended.
"This is not about right or wrong … this is about personal experience. We need to determine how far apart we are."
"Exactly … there is no way to answer that question."
"I promise – I am not setting you up." She restated.
"Mac – for God's sake – stop game playing, if you has something you want to say … then say it."
"Fine." She took a deep breath. "I miss you, Harm."
He cocked his head. "I am right here." Men can be a little dense at times.
"I miss you and the way we used to be."
He shook his head in disbelief. "Used to be when?"
"A year or more ago … before Loren Singer's death, before Paraguay … before we said we loved each other."
He sat down. "You miss what? The bickering? The fighting? Or just the fight for the top?"
"Exactly." She stated. "I miss the fight for the top."
"You can fight me for that any time you wish." He should have added 'in bed' but kept that too himself. He got up and started to walk toward the kitchen. Now he thought the whole conversation was silly – female silly.
Chauvinist thy name is HARMON RABB Jr.
"Don't walk a way from me, Harm. This is important."
"I am not walking away … I am going to the kitchen." He was just not as invested in this topic as she was. "Should I put coffee on? Is this one of those all night deals?"
Mac chose not to get angry. If he was not taking the conversation in the spirit in which she had started it that was Mac's fault. She was being a little too evasive. She would have to lay her cards on the table first. This was her issue – she needed to go first.
"This has Gates written all over it." Harm said as he came back into the bedroom with two bottles of water. "You were supposed to have lunch with her today – I guess you made that date." He put the water on the end table and slid on to the bed next to her.
"I had lunch with Gates." She confirmed. "Why don't you like her?"
"I do like her." He lied. "Why doesn't she like me?"
"She doesn't dislike you." She stated. "It wasn't just Gates. Harriet says that we have lost something too."
"Harriet too? Women – when they get together men should run for cover."
"Don't do that." She scolded. "Don't be like that … it is really not attractive."
"I don't want to talk about Gates or Harriet or what their impressions of OUR relationship are." He stated. "Tell me what isn't working for you and we'll fix it." He reached his long arm out and traced a gentle touch down her thigh.
She softened at the caress. "I am serious about this, Harm."
"Baby, you don't have to tell me – I see it in your eyes." He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.
She smiled reluctantly. "Don't call me 'baby'."
"What is in the folder?" He mumbled as he turned her hand over to bring her palm to his lips.
"Harm." She moaned as he moved up to her wrist and forearm. The conversation was taking a turn. "Harm."
He smiled up at her. "This still seems to be working for you."
She pulled her arm away. "That is one area that is working just fine."
He leaned back. As long as there was nothing wrong with their sex life … he was pretty clear that he could deal with the rest.
"Harm we have to make a change … do something … we are in danger of …" She lost the words she was thinking.
"Oh what?"
"Of losing ourselves and what was good about us." She explained.
"Mac." He pulled her hand back. "I think we have just proven that what is good – dare I say great about US – is not in the past."
"Don't you want more?"
"You bet I do." He again reached for her hand. "As much as I can get."
"Harm … I am not talking about that …" She pulled her arm away. "We are more than that." She looked down on him. "At least I think we should be and I would have thought you would have too."
He rolled off the bed. "What is the problem Mac? I am doing everything I possibly can. We wanted to continue to work together – so we are – by the grace of Admiral Schnarr. I am grateful every day that I get to see you and talk to you – even if only about the weather and the coffee, but we get to talk – and sometimes I even get to have lunch with you."
"Harm." She tried to stop his tirade.
"We want to continue to work together – so fine – I am not rocking the boat, not drawing attention to myself. I am following the rules – not making waves. I am one squared away sailor. It is killing me – but I am doing it – doing it for you – doing it for us. But I am doing it."
"So am I." She said calmly but with enough force to get him to calm down. "That is the problem – it is not us."
"And?" That was an obvious statement in his mind, so why say it.
"Harm – please don't tell me that you haven't noticed that the quality of work has gone down."
"Whose mine? Shit yeah, I have to do it all myself. Clark is not a partner, she is an audience." He ran a hand through his hair. "The JAGman investigations that are being done are next to worthless. I don't know who is doing them, but there are more holes than a target ship and I am not allowed to reopen them."
"My point." She agreed. "Why don't you say something?"
He fixed her with a you-can't-be-seriously-asking-me-that-question look and shook his head and looked away.
"Because you don't want to rock the boat." She answered for him.
"And there is no reason to piss the new admiral off. She has only been there for three – four weeks."
"How long before you challenged Chegwidden?" Mac asked.
"Ah – well that was different. I wasn't trying to maintain a low profile."
"Harm – you are anything BUT low profile. I love that about you."
He smiled – she used the word 'love' – it always made him smile. "You aren't either. Why aren't you challenging Schnarr?"
She shrugged. "Same reason."
He sat down near her. "So work sucks - what does that have to do with us?"
"Damn near everything."
"Everything?"
"Harm you and I have been at JAG for eight years – on and off."
"Part of the reason we wanted to stay there."
"Agreed. Our courtship was as investigators, partners and opposing counsel on any number of cases. How much of what we know and admire about the other came out in open court? I fell in love with a litigator who would pull out all the stops to make his case and look for the truth, one who would challenge me, bait me, ask me the difficult questions and force me to defend my answers." She took his hand. "Recently I watch you in court and something is missing."
"Something IS missing." He confirmed.
"Did I do that?" She asked sweetly.
Harm grinned at her. "No Delilah – you have not zapped me of my powers. … Well only at night – but I am revived in the morning."
She shrugged the sexual innuendo off. "Then what?"
"Maybe I am just older. Maybe older and wiser means not fighting so hard."
"You don't believe that."
"What do you want from me, Mac?" He stood and stepped away from the bed. "God, there are times when you confuse the hell out of me." He was again feeling like she was accusing him of something. "You said that there would never be an 'us' because of the fight for the top – so I stop fighting, and now you are saying that the fight was all that was good about us."
"That is not what I am saying." She corrected. "Why does it have to be one or the other – why can't we have both – why can't we have it all?"
"Because it doesn't work like that." He shook his head and looked away.
"Why not?" She pleaded.
He relented. "I don't know." At the moment he didn't know. He just remembered asking himself that same question over and over and over after Mac made her declaration in Paraguay. He was not about to say 'because you said so.' Harm was growing.
She was quiet for a moment. "If this is what working together means – that we flatten out – water down our beliefs and convictions all in the name of working in the same office." She lifted the folder and waved it as an example. "If these are the conditions we have to deal with … then maybe it would be better if we had different duty stations a million miles apart."
Harm felt his ire crawling up his spine – he was not about to lose her in his daily life. "What is that?"
"This?" She handed him the folder.
He opened it and started sifting through. It was full of printouts from the Internet of bed and breakfasts in Vermont. "I don't understand."
"That is an example of the romantic weekends that we are NEVER going to get to take – not as long as we are at JAG together as it stands now."
"I don't get it." He looked up at her.
"We were supposed to go pick up Mattie on Labor Day – take a day or two for ourselves?"
"Yeah, so."
"So I have the duty that weekend."
"Trade it with Bud." He was confused why this was a problem – damn Mac could be so dramatic.
"There will be no switching of duties." She mimicked Schnarr's credo.
"So we'll go another weekend."
"Harm – as long as we are at JAG together, we can not take time off together – no early Fridays, no late Mondays … no vacations."
"Wait … wait … wait … You are switching arguments. Just what is the issue?"
"We have several."
"Primarily."
"Primarily – I don't like what we – you and I as individuals - have become under Schnarr's rule all in the name of keeping a low profile."
"Fine – agenda item number one. What else?"
"Working with you is cramping our personal time – we are two of a three man group … we can't let Bud pick up our slack all the time because we are at the beginning of a relationship. He has a pregnant wife and two kids."
"I agree that Bud will begin to feel like a third wheel – but that is something that is not in our power to change."
"Isn't it?"
"Mac?"
"Why haven't we challenged the admiral's polices?"
"We are back to that?" He ran his hands through his hair. "What do you think we should challenge?"
"Seniors not working together, JAGman investigations being done by the JAG on sight, three seniors at JAG who barely have time to speak to each other much less consult on a case, partnered with JG's that can barely spell JAG much less understand what it takes to get the job done."
Harm looked frustrated. More than three times a day in the past several weeks he had wanted barge into the admiral's office and tell her it wasn't working, but he held back. He bit his tongue and he sucked it up and he did what he was ordered to do – for once – for Mac – for the US he was a part of.
"You don't agree with them." She continued. "You don't believe that they serve the Navy or JAG and you admit that your ability to do your job has been severely hampered."
"So do you."
"And why haven't I addressed my concerns with the admiral?" She asked rhetorically.
"Low profile?"
"Exactly." She nodded. "We need to go back to the way things were."
"You want to stage a coup d'etat?"
"It is not a coup -."
"No, in the Navy they call it a mutiny." He laughed. "I should file charges against you for inciting a mutiny – Article 94 – you could be hung from the yardarm."
She smiled. "Harm, Isn't it our responsibility - our obligation to question orders or policies that we find – wrong – if not strictly unlawful?"
"You are heading into some dangerous water there, marine."
"Harm, we are her leaders, her seniors. We are supposed to set an example."
"So what are you suggesting?" He sat down on the bed next to her.
"Why don't we go back to the old ways?"
"Respectfully submitting dissenting opinions to the admiral and arguing with each other?"
"I don't choose to look at it as arguing, I look at it as debating – spirited debating." She leaned forward. "Look – I have the Article 32 report in my briefcase that recommends a courts martial of a Lieutenant aboard the Patrick Henry. He is a – it not important at the moment – just know, they have the wrong man."
"In your mind … based upon what?"
"The interview I had with him."
"I was just given that case, I will be prosecuting."
"Did you read the file? The findings in the report are not conclusive."
He shrugged his 'yes'. The investigation was mediocre at best and it was a bit of a stretch to bring the Lieutenant up on charges.
"I want to suggest that you and I be allowed to conduct our own investigation and solicit Bud's help as well." Mac continued.
"How many Schnarr policies did you just violate?"
"All of them - I hope. But I need you and Bud to ACTIVELY back me up. We need to show her that we were a successful office before and the reasons why."
Harm nodded slowly. "I need to ask you something – two things actually."
"Go ahead."
"How will us working together help us get time off together?"
"She will need to bring in more lawyers – spread the work around a little bit. Aren't you sick of having duty every third weekend?"
"It has only been three weeks, Mac."
"What's your other question?"
"What are you fighting so hard to save something that is ultimately doomed?"
"What is doomed?"
"Us … we are ultimately doomed – why are you fighting so hard to save it."
2109 EST
Madden Residence
Arlington, VA
Victor walked Gates to her door. They were laughing and dancing and recounting the events of the evening. Vic was clearly very attentive to Gates. That night he wanted to take the relationship to the next level, he was hoping Gates wanted that too.
"Gates." A man stepped from the shadows after she and the gunny had passed.
Gates stopped laughing and turned quickly at the sound of her name. Vic protectively stepped between the stranger and Gates. If he had a weapon it would have been drawn.
"Gates." The man said again. "Who is this guy?"
Gates put her hand on Vic's shoulder. "It's OK, Vic." She said stepping up even with him. "It is only my husband – sorry EX-husband – but you could hardly call what we had a marriage."
Vic stood down but studied the man intently. Glenn was not a small man. He was clearly military or ex-military, but was not up on his PT. What Vic noticed about him was the fire and determination in his eyes. The man was at the end of his rope. He was liable to do anything. The smell of alcohol was strong too. It could have been because Vic hadn't had anything to drink that it smelled so strong, but Vic didn't think so. He had dealt with enough domestic violence cases in his career as MP and a Deputy Sheriff to know the signs and to know the exacerbating affects of alcohol.
"Gates, for Christ's sake."
"What are you doing here, Glenn?" Gates smirked. "Didn't think your wife let you out this late."
"Gates I have to talk to you." He scanned Vic. "In private."
"No." She answered flatly. "If you want to talk to me, drop a dime, but don't come by here like some crazed stalker." She turned away but turned back. "How much have you had to drink?"
"I have called a hundred times." He protested.
"Then you are dialing a wrong number." Clearly she had gotten all the messages and had returned none of them.
He stepped forward to grab her arm. "Gates, damn it, you have to talk to me."
That was a mistake. Gunny had him on the ground in a second.
Gates was not impressed. She hated this side of men: the violent, belligerent, aggressive nature of the male animal. "Whoa there Gunny." She tried to laugh it off. "Let the man up."
"Who the hell is this guy?" Glenn demanded with a face full of sidewalk.
"I am someone who is going to make sure you treat the lady with respect." Gunny wretched Glenn's arm up further and pulled him to a standing position. "Now apologize to Dr. Madden for coming by without an invitation and then I will escort you to your vehicle and you will not return."
Gates was livid. She could handle Glenn and didn't need some MACHO MARINE playing hero to her damsel in distress. "Victor, let him go!"
Vic loosened his hold but did not let go.
"Go home Glenn. Do us all a favor. Don't come back."
Glenn nodded slowly. He was not a beaten man; he had just lost that round. He pulled away from Gunny roughly, brushed himself off and stormed away.
Vic started to follow him to his car.
"Victor." She stopped him. As soon as he was out of sight Gates turned her attention to Vic. "You need to go as well."
"Gates?"
"That was a sight I never want to see again." She stated. "I don't go for those kinds Movie of the Week episodes."
"The man was out of control." Gunny defended his actions.
"You were the one that escalated the situation. You see why violence begets violence. He left when I told him to go. He would not have hurt me, he would not have touched me and I didn't have to lay a hand on him."
"I know you are a psychiatrist and that you talk people out of doing crazy stuff – but I was a sheriff. I know what can happen when the talking is over. I have the scars to prove it. That man was out of control."
"We are not trailer trash, Vic." Gates spit at him. "Glen was a highly decorated officer in the US Navy. He is educated and articulate. He is not some drunken wife beater – or even an ex-wife beater."
"You think domestic violence is a about money or education?" He was shocked that she would say something so stupid.
"Bottom line is it only got physical when you threw him to the ground." She pointed to where they had seen Glenn go. "He left when I told him to leave, you see?"
Gunny was about to respond.
"Look – I am not going to debate this with you tonight. I appreciate your need for that kind of intervention, but next time – don't."
Vic couldn't believe her reaction.
"Thank you for dinner and dancing." She dismissed him.
"Lock your doors, Gates."
"Thank you for your concern."
Vic turned and left. He could not help someone who did not want to be helped.
Gates did go inside and lock her door. She dialed Mac but there was no answer at her apartment. Gates figured that she would be with Harm and didn't want to disturb them. She was just about to head up the stairs to take a bath to wash off the last twenty minutes, when a loud pounding came on her door.
"Gates – your guard dog is gone, I saw him drive away." Glenn continued to pound on the door. "Let me in."
"Go away Glenn." She called through the door. "You're making a scene."
With one swift hard kick, Glenn had kicked the door in. The first thing Gates noticed was the fire in his eyes. She had never seen him so passionate about anything. The next thing she noticed was the weapon in his hand.
Rabb Residence
"We are doomed." Mac repeated. "You honestly believe that?"
"I was not prepared to talk about this tonight." He nervously looked away.
"Harm, what are you saying?"
"I am saying that I was willing to … lie low at JAG for a while because it wasn't going to last forever." He looked up at her. "I was trying to focus on more important things."
"Harm." Her voice was near squeaking.
"Mac, I am talking about us working together." He got up and moved away. "I wasn't prepared to talk about this tonight."
"Too late now, sailor."
He laughed a little and nodded. "Yeah, isn't it?"
"Harm, talk to me – quickly." She was letting her mind move too quickly to all the bad things that he could let fall out of his mouth.
"You aren't the only one that has been doing a little research." He went to the living room and came back in moments with two thick manila folders.
"What are those?" She asked.
He sat down across from her and dropped them down on the bed in front of her. "Before you open those, please know that I wasn't prepared to --."
"You've said that."
Harm flashed on the fight they had in Naples. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of that mess. "What I am saying is: I don't want you to get angry …annoyed …upset because this was not … brought to your attention …" He shrugged. "… I don't know … better. Know that you were 110 considered and I have presumed nothing."
She gave him a quizzical look and slowly opened the first folder. She flipped through the papers in it for a long moment before she looked up at him.
"These are real estate listings." She said with a little confusion in her voice.
"Yes they are."
"For houses in … Virginia?"
"Virginia and Maryland." He confirmed.
"Some of these are very nice houses." She held one up.
It was actually Harm's favorite, but there was no way in hell they could afford it. "Some of them are way out of price range." He smiled and took it from her hand and put it back in the folder. "It was just for research." He said again.
"Harm?"
"Mac … Sarah …" He couldn't find the words. "I wasn't prepared to discuss this tonight."
"Say something sailor." She entreated him still confused.
"Sarah, I love you … you confuse the hell out of me at times and God knows you challenge me … but I do love you. I want to try to figure you out … something I have no real hope of ever doing … but I want to spend the next thirty or forty years giving it a shot." He leaned back away from her. He was tripping over his tongue and nothing was coming out well. "I wanted to do this right … better … differently … but I needed a little more time."
"More time?" She asked.
"Sarah, I wanted to give you everything you ever wanted or needed from a man. We got off on every wrong foot there was. I wanted to change that for you … for us. But this … tonight … this mutiny you want to stage …" He smiled at her. "Wasn't in the plan."
"You had a plan?" She ignored the mutiny remark.
"Yeah." He looked pretty proud of himself and said casually; "Yeah, I was going to woo you, spend time with you, pay attention to everything about you, make you fall hopelessly in love with me, make you realize that you couldn't live a day without me." He grinned hoping he hadn't gone too far in effort to not be too serious. "Then, I was going to ASK you to marry me in some old fashion way and then … hopefully if I got the answer I hoped for … we would get married, buy a house, raise a passel of kids, and grow old together … maybe fighting for the top 'til the day we parted."
She was speechless.
"So you see why I say that we are doomed at JAG – not that I am assuming anything." He added quickly still worried that she was going to fly off the handle again. "We could not stay there if that plan had any hope of succeeding. One or both of us was going to have to leave – thought that it would be me. In fact I was going to start trolling for a new assignment here in Washington after Mattie went back to live with her father."
"You have given this a great deal of thought." She said calmly but clearly touched by the sentiment.
"I have … again - defending you on mutiny charges was not in the plan."
"Harm – it is not a mutiny."
"How will I tell our kids that their mother is in Leavenworth for trying to take over JAG." He laughed more out of relief that she didn't appear to be angry.
She laughed too. "It is just that I am not happy with the work that we are doing. We spend too much of our energy there, it means too much to us to do it wrong."
"No, no, you're right." He nodded. "So, we'll go with your plan?"
"Now you want to get in on this mutiny?" She laughed. "What will I tell our children?"
"Ha – we need to do what we do best – the kids will just have to understand that. I hate the idea of being less than we are even if the motivation is for a higher purpose. It doesn't feel right." He let his face melt into his trademark grin. "Besides, I miss the fight for the top too."
"OK." She closed the folders and handed them back to him.
He looked at her quizzically. He was waiting for her to make some comment about what all that represented. "Mac?"
"Carry on, sailor." She said nonchalantly. She got up and went into the bathroom.
"What does that mean?" He followed her with his eyes.
"It means you have a good plan there and I think you ought to follow it through."
His grin widened. "Good."
"One thing – about the plan." She called back over the running water. "If you don't mind a subjective comment."
"Please, by all means." He got up to put the folders on the dresser.
"I am already hopelessly in love with you." She leaned out of the bathroom and flashed him a quick smile. "But like I said … carry on."
0233 EST
Chegwidden Residence
McLean, Virginia
AJ had just fallen asleep. His cast was removed that day and now he'd be using a brace for another few weeks. It was better, the itching had stopped and he was able to take a real shower, but it still hurt like hell. The physical therapy had taken it out of him that day. The phone wrenched him to back to consciousness.
"Chegwidden." He barked into the receiver.
AJ? It's Gates.
"Gates?" He checked the clock by his bed. "What's the matter?"
I need your help. She took a pause. I need a lawyer.
"At midnight?"
I am at the Arlington Police Station. I have been arrested for shooting my ex-husband.
"Mac -?"
I can't call, Mac. She cut him off. AJ please … will you help me?
End of Chapter Four
