A/N: Well, to all those who have been reading To London With Love, you know I've been suffering from acute writer's block. However, thanks to the simply wonderful suggestions that were donated to me through chapter . . . 17(?)'s reviews, I feel rather . . . invigorated. And with school beginning on Tuesday, I've decided to make the most of my remaining days. Just a warning: updates following Tuesday will become . . . um, less frequent. Yes, I know, I suck at author's notes . . . on with the story.
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Through the Open Door
0812
The Admiral's Living Room
Harm's POV
Silence. Beautiful, luxurious, long awaited silence. I rolled over on the couch, burying my head farther into the pillow. From somewhere outside, thin rays of sunshine filtered in slowly, brightening the living room considerably. I sighed almost contentedly. It felt so good to be out of the house. I squirmed underneath the afghan that sheltered most of my body. I was truly at peace . . . for one split moment I was at peace with the world, with my life, with me.
"We can't go ahead with it," a rough voice suddenly whispered from the room next door. Despite my slumber-wrought state, my ears pricked up in an attempt at eavesdropping. "Not right now . . . wait till next week."
"Not if we want to get this done quickly." That was Webb's voice. Despite his attempt at a whisper, his tones came out very clearly. I rolled off my side and onto my back so now both ears were open.
"What's more important, quickness or quality?" That was Jake.
"Look, I'm not arguing on that point," Clay's voice rose a little only to be dampened by shushing from Jake and I suspect Shapiro. Dutifully he lowered his voice. "Rabb's anxious as hell to get this done . . . and frankly, I'm not fond of the position things are in now. I'm not going to speed up at a dangerous pace, but there's no sense in waiting a while if we can get the same job done in minimum timing."
"And what do you propose we do?" The voice was suddenly stronger and bolder. My suspicions were confirmed. It was Shapiro.
Clay sighed. "We scatter. If we spend too much time together it will be obvious to Abbas, if not his informant, that we are a team. We split up then assemble when the time is right."
"And I don't suppose you'd have a set date for the time that's right?" Shapiro asked in what I expect was accompanied by a risen eyebrow.
"I'll let you know the minute I know," Clay replied sturdily. There was a long silence and then –
"So, if we're splitting up, where's everyone going?" Jake asked, followed by the sound of a creaking chair as someone got up from their seat. They were in the kitchen, most likely having breakfast.
Clay paused for a minute of thought. "Well, Chegwidden, Turner, and Roberts will go back to JAG pretending as if nothing ever happened. Teddy will stay in university . . . Harm with Vera and me. Jake with Mac and Shapiro," Clay had the tone of a shrug in his voice, "you get to wander like you usually do."
"So that's it?" Shapiro asked. "We all just pretend to be doing nothing until the time is right? And what happens then? How long do we set it up first? We will know before he knows, won't we?"
"Yes," Clay sighed. "But we have to be quiet about this. If Vera gets so much as an inkling of suspicion . . . we're gone. She and Mac will insist upon joining us."
Shapiro's voice was passive. "So? Isn't she a good agent? And I've only met this . . . uh, Mac . . . once, but she seems to be a pretty tough broad. Took giving birth pretty easily."
"If calling me Judas and throwing every swear word in the drunken sailor's dictionary at us is taking it easily, then she was damn fine at it," Jake muttered so quietly I had to really strain my hearing to pick up on it.
"Why don't you want them involve?" Shapiro snapped.
"Because I don't," came Clay's blunt remark.
"Personal or professional reasons?"
"None of your business, Shapiro," Clay replied with a surprising amount of force. "Look, the reason why I'm talking to you two, and no one else, is because I need one of you." He paused. "Look, while this plan is being set up, I need someone down in Italy to make sure that Ballando il Teatro dell'opera Leggero is not in any way compromised. I don't know how early Abbas takes to set up . . . I don't know if Abbas has even caught wind of the rumor. But somewhere in the next six months he's going to set up. And I'd prefer we be the first ones there."
"Do you really think that Abbas would set up this early on?" Shapiro asked in surprise. "I mean, the rumor has it that Harm will be coming there in six months . . . I mean, how desperate can he be?"
"It's not about desperation," Jake replied stiffly. "Abbas has been waiting to catch Harm for fifteen months . . . maybe even longer. Who knows how much has reached his ears so far? We're leaving bits and pieces around the office, hoping he'll pick up at least two or three. If he already has, then maybe he's departed early. He wants to get there before running the risk of us. Abbas has waited over fifteen months for this . . . another six is just bidding his time."
"So we need someone there to watch him?" Shapiro questioned.
"Not to watch HIM," Clay corrected. "But the opera house. That's where Harm will supposedly be transferred, that's the prime target for assassination. In other words, he will have set up shop before Harm gets there. We need an agent to prevent that from happening."
"And so you're telling us because . . ." Shapiro trailed.
"Because you two are my prime choices," Clay's voice hits the nail on the head. "You're both of Italian decent and you speak the language. You blend in easily, you have experience. Abbas doesn't know either of your faces unlike he knows mine, Vera's, Harm's and Mac's. But more than that – I trust both of you. Immeasurably."
A long pause and then –
"I'll do it, Webb," Shapiro replied with only a tinge of uneasiness. "Jake has to take care of Mac."
"Mac's pretty self-reliant," Jake begins almost immediately. "I don't believe for a second that she depends on me . . . I could do it if you need me."
"But you've got a life here," Shapiro stubbornly pointed out. "I'm just a floater."
Clay sighed, "thanks, Tony. I owe you one."
"It's my pleasure to be working with you again, Webb," Shapiro replied with an air that told me they were shaking hands. "So when do I leave?"
"With any luck, three days," Clay replied briskly, the clink of his mug as he set it down on the table. "I'm on stand-by for a ticket to Padua. I'll let you know as soon as I get it confirmed." He lowered his voice a little, "and until then, I'd prefer it if you two kept this meeting between us. I don't want Harm getting his hopes up now that I have an idea of a timeframe. For all I know, I'm months off."
"Sure," Shapiro breathed, but the reluctance in Jake's voice was evident.
"I don't know, I think we should be straight with him," his voice hit imploringly. "Harm's a big boy . . . he can take it. He'll understand the time frame's shaky."
"Jake," Clay sighed. "Harm couldn't master the impulse to stay away from Mac for one second when she landed in Padua. Don't you remember? He lied his way onto the back of your motorcycle to get to her . . . and I've driven with you, it's no picnic. And now he's closer to her, and he has all the more reason to want to be with her considering she has his son. I'm not going to underestimate the lengths at which Harm will go to be with his family. And to a man as desperate as Harm . . . six months is a long time."
"Well, you could make up for that," Jake replied, his voice easing. "Let him phone her once in a while . . . maybe bring the kid over to see him. I mean, he can't obviously go over, but we could sneak Hunter out . . . let Harm have a little one on one with him. Mac would understand that. I'll go as far as to say she'd even probably support it."
"That might keep him calm," Clay nodded. For a brief moment silence filled the kitchen, and then –
"Look, there's not much in the fridge for breakfast, how about I go out and buy something?" Jake asked, the creaking of his chair against the wooden floor echoing as he stood up. "I'll be twenty minutes."
"Yeah, sure . . ." Clay replied. "Car keys are by my wallet." There was a sigh. "Well, I'm going up to have a shower."
"And I'll come with you, Jake," Shapiro added, also standing up from his chair. "If I'm going to Italy in three days I'll need to pick up some stuff."
"See you in twenty," Clay muttered as the clattering of the three of them migrating from the kitchen to their various destinations rang in my ears. I sighed, as once again the room grew quiet. My eyes snapped open, almost instantly blinded by the sun drenched room. My heartbeat seemed to pound within my chest. The sensible part of my brain told me that Webb was right, the timeline was shaky . . . but the other part of me, the wild and optimistic side could only repeat two words over and over and over again.
Six months . . .
(much) earlier that morning
Mac and Jake's Apartment
Mac's POV
Harriet laid sleeping on the couch in the living room, her blonde head resting comfortably against one of my bedroom pillows as I turned off the TV – we had decided to watch Thelma and Louise – and yawned tiredly as Hunter gurgled contentedly from his crib, deciding nap time was over. I stroked his cheek very gently as I put back Jake's movie into his cardboard box and moved Hunter into his baby cradle that Jake had set up next to my bed.
"Come here, honey, it's time to sleep," I whispered, picking up Hunter in one arm, and pulling the baby blue blanket that Jake had bought for him with the other. Hunter loved that blanket to death. I never could figure out why – he had about a million of them. But nope, he liked Jake's about all others. I sighed in distress, "come on, Hunter, it's night time . . ."
Hunter seems to have inherited the attention span of his father. He looks at me for one moment before turning his eyes over to the wall, apparently finding that much more interesting than me. He sucked his lower lip, evidently wide awake. I began to bob up and down, rubbing him gently on his back like I usually did to get him to sleep. But alas, this was to no avail.
"Here, let me try," Vera offered, suddenly standing up from the armchair in the corner. She smiled at me, "it'll give me a little practice, anyway."
I hesitated for a moment before shifting Hunter into her arms, wrapping his blanket around his body as he settled into Vera's embrace. "Just, kind of . . . bob him. He likes that. He get sleepy really quickly."
Vera commences bobbing as I walk to the linen closet and pull out a light quilt to wrap over Harriet, who is very peacefully dormant. "So . . . will you be fine in Jake's room for the night?"
Vera looks over at me, a startled expression lighting her eyes. "Jake's room?"
I shrugged. "Well, Harriet's taken the couch . . . and I'd offer to let you bunk with me, but Hunter likes to be fed early in the morning . . . and he cries a lot in request. I really wouldn't want to keep you up . . ."
"Oh well, there's nothing wrong with Jake's room," Vera said rather quickly. "I mean, a bed's a bed . . . who cares who's slept in it?" Her voice is uneven.
A sudden thought overpowers me. "Have you seen Jake's room yet?"
Vera looks up at me, as Hunter seems to calm down, his gurgling paused for the moment. "No . . . not yet."
"Room on the right hand side," I said, pointing down the left hallway. "If you don't mind, I'm just going to brush my teeth and change into my pajamas. Can you keep Hunter until I come back?"
"No problem," Vera replied easily. "He's no trouble."
I nodded, as I turned into my room as at the same time Vera entered Jake's. Settling myself into a comfortable pair of plaid bottoms and a white tank top, I found myself wondering about the history laden conflicts that weighted all of our shoulders, and shadowed our present, condemning us to a road of hindsight. And I could only hope that Vera and Jake did not go down that road . . .
Same Time
Jake's Room
Vera's POV
My first thought upon entering the room was Jake would never change. In his old apartment, the one before the one he had before he was assigned as Mac's body guard, he had decorated almost tastelessly. Little furniture save the plaid love seat that rested in front of a TV that he could have afforded three times over, but his room . . . through the various apartments he'd lived in, always reminded me of a boy named Peter's in St. Catherine's orphanage, the one I stayed in before Akheal Azhad took me in.
Jake's room was painted in a solid sky blue color, with posters tacked up on nearly every wall. Movie posters, magazine covers, child like things that filled the walls of Jacob Holter. I smiled as I saw 'Gone With the Wind' hanging over his bed, whereas 'Jaws' was pasted to his closet door. No, Jake would never change . . .
I turned to look at his bedside table, scattered with small framed photographs. Shifting Hunter up higher in my arms, I sat down on the bed, my eyes traveling to the figures in the photograph. The first one I noticed was one of Jake when he was about twelve years old. He was stick thin even then, with his jeans hanging loosely around his waist while he stood bare-chested out in a grassy field, a slightly smaller boy with the same golden blonde hair and keen hazel eyes sat next to him, a playful grin on his face. I assumed this was Jake's brother, Nick. Jake didn't mention him often.
I turned to the next photograph, and felt my heart lurch into my stomach. It was one of me and Jake when we were dating. The sky was dark and the Eiffel Tower was lit behind us. Jake and I were facing each other rather than the camera, his forehead resting on mine as his hands wove into my air, as I pulled him closer to me, enjoying the feel of my skin on his. The memory sent shivers running up and down my spine.
Hunter murmured incoherently from inside my arms, as I bent down to touch the photograph, my fingers lightly running over the glass that separated me from the photograph. I sighed, "That's your Uncle Jake, Hunter," I said to the boy as I shifted his weight in my arms so that he could see him. "Yeah, that's me and Uncle Jake when we were dating, all those years ago."
Hunter gurgled happily, thoroughly impassive to what I was saying.
"That was taken in France just before he left to Cuba," I whispered. "He had to go for . . . work related reasons." I sighed, "It was always work. I had to work . . . he had to work . . . and never in the same place at the same time." I looked at Hunter who met my eyes strongly. "It never would have worked out between us, Hunt. As compatible as we are . . . our lives clash. That doesn't stop him from being one of the best people in my life . . ." I sighed again. "But stuff like that makes you wonder, you know? I loved him, for the longest time . . . even after we'd broken up and he'd left to Cuba, I to Iran. I guess some part of me always will . . . but it's hell on the imagination. What could have been . . ."
I turned back to Hunter, as though just realizing I was talking to a two-week-year-old. "Well, maybe you can't understand right now . . . but you will some day." I smiled. "With those eyes you're going to be a great catch when you grow up. And then maybe you'll understand," I whispered as Hunter's eyes drooped to a close. "Just maybe."
0835
Mac and Jake's Apartment
Mac's POV
"Alright, ladies, it's official," I said, slamming the refrigerator door shut, "Jake's eaten us out of house and home."
"And I don't suppose our midnight raid on your fridge had anything to do with its emptiness?" Vera grins from her corner of the table, as she held Hunter in her arms.
"Of course not," I replied briskly, smirking carelessly as I did so. "Jake should have bought more food."
Harriet smiled, "so I guess this calls for a little grocery shopping?"
"Oh yeah," Vera nods. "Let's stalk up on junk food . . . and let's stop by Blockbuster and pick up some movies actually made this century, for a change."
"Aw, you didn't dig Thelma and Louise?" I asked, taking Hunter out of Vera's arms and slipping him into his navy jumper.
"Let's just say I prefer Pirates of the Caribbean," Vera said shrugging as we walked out the front door. "Come on, let's make the most of this weekend . . . we're guy free."
"I think that calls for make-overs," Harriet said, adding in her official opinion as we swung open the car doors. "I mean, you guys said Harm and Jake were playing poker . . ."
"Yeah, but poor Bud," I replied, buckling Hunter into his car seat. "Having to work on what was supposed to be your romantic weekend."
Harriet sighed, "Without you and the commander, work's stretched."
Vera frowned.
"What's up?" I asked, noting her expression in the rear view mirror.
"Nothing," Vera said quickly. "It's just that . . . it's been fifteen months and, well, you know Clay – he's not exactly the most lenient type . . . he wouldn't let Harm out of his sight for five minutes. Out of the house was out of the question . . . and now they go for a weekend of poker? Why can't they just have it at the house? And that same weekend Bud suddenly disappears, canceling his previous plans?"
"But we know Bud's not in on it," I stated, steering to the left. "I mean, he wasn't at the first meeting . . . besides, Harm wouldn't want Bud involved. He respects the fact that he has a family. Harm wouldn't want to endanger that."
"Well doesn't Turner work with him?" Vera challenged. "How do we trust that Turner can keep his mouth shut?"
"Oh, we can," I replied quickly, thinking back to a little secret I had . . . ahem, slipped all those years ago. "If Sturgis gives you his word, he'll abide by it. Believe me."
"And no way would Bud be involved," Harriet piped up from the back seat. "I mean, if he knew the commander was alive, he'd tell me. Bud and I don't like to keep secrets between each other . . ."
I pulled into the supermarket driveway as Vera said, "I guess it's just my imagination working overtime."
I sighed, as we exited the car, I holding Hunter as Vera grabbed a grocery cart. "Okay – what do you guys want? Chips? Marshmallows? Chocolate bars?"
"Ben and Jerry's cookie dough ice cream," Vera said instantaneously. "And lots of chocolate sauce." She paused, "and sprinkles . . . with chocolate chips . . . and your suggestion of marshmallows is pretty good."
Harriet could only stare at Vera. "How DO you keep your figure?"
I grinned, "I'm going to get microwave popcorn. You guys decide on what chips and stuff to get."
I turned down the aisle where they held the popcorn, picking up a large two liter bottle of coke when suddenly my eyes caught the face of a familiar person. A VERY familiar person. I walked over to him, "Jake?"
Jake whirled around, dropping the carton of skim milk that he was holding. "Mac? What are you doing here?"
"Shopping," I said deftly, looking into his cart at the massive amount of food he had collected. Too much for three people . . . "Why are you here?"
"Same as you," Jake retorted defensively, moving towards the other aisle but I matched his stride easily with my own. "We were out of food so I thought I'd gather some stuff."
"Are you here alone?" I asked, as he attempted to swerve away, but I stopped him by grabbing onto the edge of the cart so he could pull no further.
Jake sighed. "Look, I'm by myself, okay? Poker game kind of ran a little late last night. Clay didn't want to shop and you know how Harm is. He's probably STILL not awake . . ." Jake trailed. "So, if you don't mind, I've got to pay for these . . ."
"Hey, Jake!"
I turn around to see Shapiro bounding down the aisle, his hand clenching a box of LIFE cereal. "I got the economy sized box. Figuring that if all of us ate like two bowls we'd be pretty much through with . . . oh, hey, Mac."
My eyebrow rose up. "Shapiro? What are you doing here?"
"Oh . . ." Shapiro said, his eyes flashing briefly over to Jake who promptly looked away. "Um, I'm in town for today and tomorrow and Jake's just showing me around town, you know . . ." Shapiro gestured pointlessly. "I've got no where else to stay."
I don't believe it for a second. I turn back to Jake, "I thought you said you were here alone." I stare at the both of them, "And what happened to your poker game?"
"Well . . ." Jake trailed, "Shapiro's in on the poker game, too! Yeah, he's in town and we thought that if too many people joined in on the game, it would be too much to keep at our apartment or Vera and Clay's house so it was just best if we rented several rooms in the motel . . ."
"What motel?" I snapped.
Shapiro turned to Jake. "Which one was it again? Began with an 'H' I think . . . don't you, Jake?"
Jake's expression is that of the completely befuddled. "Yeah, H sounds about right. Hightower . . . Hilldegard . . . something along those lines."
I stare at them coldly. "And would Lieutenant Roberts have had anything to do with you . . . ahem, poker game?"
While Jake retains a cool and impassive posterior, I know him too well and his eyes read 'Oh, damn'. "Not at all . . . just us four guys, having a few kicks. Why? Isn't he at home with his family?"
His innocence is so well feigned. I pause in thought for a second and then, "Okay . . . say, have you seen where they keep the microwave popcorn? I was hoping to get Orville Redenbacher's, heavy on the butter."
"Uh . . . yeah, down that way," Jake points behind him. "So . . . see you tomorrow?"
"Sure," I replied lightly, "have fun."
I turned down the aisle Jake had motioned to, and then waited behind the corner of the bread rack until Jake and Shapiro were out of sight, before literally bounding down the opposite aisle to where Vera and Harriet were arguing over which was better – chocolate chip cookies or oatmeal raisin.
"Come on, guys, leave the cookies!" I whispered quickly, grabbing both their arms, and dashing across the dairy section towards the pay counter. "Vera, you were completely right. There IS something weird with the guys . . . I have a hunch, but I don't want to make any assumptions yet. Suffice to say they are most certainly NOT playing poker."
"How do you know?" Vera asked. I pulled them behind a Coca-Cola tower, motioning silently over to the line up at cashing counter 6 – or more specifically WHO was in line number 6. "Damn . . ." Vera whispered.
"What? Who is it?" Harriet asked, ducking her head out from behind the counter. "Who's the cute tall guy?"
Vera sighed. "My ex."
"And his con-artist friend," I replied, motioning over to Shapiro.
Harriet turned back to Vera. "Your ex is hot."
"And they're on the move!" I narrate as Jake and Shapiro each took four shopping bags and began to make their way out of the building. "Let's not lose them . . ."
We scrambled forward, ducking ourselves into the crowd of people swarming towards the parking lot. Luckily, we'd parked fairly near the entrance way. We leaped into the car, Vera barely strapping Hunter into his car seat before I took off, spotting Jake's car as he attempted to pull out of the parking lot. I mean, I've tailed him once . . . could I not do it again?
I swerved carefully, winding myself down the streets, my car always one or two behind Jake. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I acknowledged the fact that this route was familiar . . . I'd taken it before. But where . . .? And then it hit me like a bolt of lightening. I stared ahead incredulously as Jake turned to the left – I, of course, doing the same.
"They're going to the Admiral's house!" I exclaimed. "They're staying with him!"
"What?" Harriet asked in confusion. "That can't be right . . ."
"Oh, no?" I asked, my eyebrow raised in retaliation. "Look, we're on Elm Street, and if he turns down onto Duncan . . ." Jake turns onto Duncan, "There you have it."
I watched as Jake pulled easily into the Admiral's driveway, he and Shapiro opening up the truck to unload the bags. Easing the car gently, we drove past, looping around the bend for a few minutes before coming back out – Jake and Shapiro having already gone inside the house. I pulled into the Admiral's driveway. "The guys better have some seriously good excuses."
"And no more of that poker crap," Vera muttered, opening the car door and handing me Hunter. "If this is what I think it is . . . Clay is so far gone."
"Just wait till I'm through with Jake," I replied, just as angry. "If it is what we think it is."
Harriet just stared at us. "What DO you think it is?"
Vera just sighed, her eyes glaring angrily as we approached the door. "Mutiny."
Same Time
Admiral's House
Clay's POV
"Mac was there?" I gape.
Jake nodded, placing the carton of eggs into the compartment in the fridge. "I think I nearly died on the spot. Luckily she gave in half way through."
"Mac?" the Admiral asked, sipping coffee from his mug and wincing at its strength. "I find that hard to believe."
"So did I," Jake said exhaustedly, sitting down at the kitchen table and running his hands through his short dark hair. "But she almost seemed to . . . accept the poker concept. Which is funny considering our wall of lies was crumbling around us at every question she asked and . . . what?" he added as both the Admiral's and my face suddenly pale.
"Wait, let me get this straight . . ." the Admiral trailed. "You were lying . . . it was fairly obvious you were lying and Mac just . . . backed away?"
Jake just stares at us. "Well . . . yeah, I mean – I built up a solid lie and then Shapiro here just came and knocked it right back down. After the first interrogation Mac just seemed to . . . I don't know, acknowledge it." Jake shrugged, "It was weird."
I heaved a heavy sigh. "Oh no . . ."
"You said it," the Admiral replied, draining the last of the coffee in his mug. "How long do you give her?"
"Another minute or so," I replied, "provided she didn't get lost along the way."
"Mac?" the Admiral asked. "Nah, she's got almost as good a sense of direction as she does timing."
Jake's eyes shifted between the two of us. "What do you mean?"
I slapped Jake companionably on the back. "She played you, buddy."
"Played you like a fool," the Admiral added from the hall.
I grinned at him. "She let you go, knowing you would lead her to the nest – and she's followed you so . . . give her another thirty seconds and she'll be breaking down that door."
"But . . . but I didn't," Jake stuttered. "But . . . wait, what?"
Knock. Knock.
"Well, look at it this way," I said as I walked towards the door, turning back to Jake as I did so. "It's not like Vera's with . . ." I opened the door, to meet the dark eyes of my subject at hand. "Her."
Same Time
Same Place
Mac's POV
"HOW COULD YOU!" Vera's voice rings out over the house.
"Vera, I . . ." Clay begins but Vera cuts him off.
"THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A TRUSTING RELATIONSHIP!" she hollered. "HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO HAVE THAT IF YOU GO AND HAVE YOU "POKER" GAMES, HUH?"
"Vera, that's not what . . ."
"Don't give me that, Clay!" Vera plowed on. "If it weren't for . . ."
"We were going to tell you," Jake suddenly began from his position in the corner. "It's just that –"
Vera rounded on him instantly. "Hey, you're next – so save it for your own defense."
"Clay, where's Harm?" I suddenly interjected, before Vera could really get started on her rant.
"Couch," Clay said robotically, his eyes not leaving Vera for a moment.
I ran into the living room, ignoring the nineteen-year-old kid that I nearly tripped over due to his lying on the floor. Sure enough there Harm was, fast asleep at nine o'clock in the morning. I rolled my eyes. Some things never change. I jumped onto him, my body crushing his as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. "Why didn't you tell us?"
Harm opens his groggy eyes. "Mmmaac?"
"Don't 'Mmmaac' me," I ranted on. "You guys lie to us, escape for a secret meeting where you create a plan that affects all of our lives, not just yours, and you don't even BOTHER to include us!"
"G'morning," Harm muttered sleepily.
"Well, I have news for you!" I hollered. "We're not going to take this! Yes, you're the brave masculine protectors of the home, or whatever the hell you call yourselves – but we're not going to be trampled on. If you think that you're going to catch Abbas without our help then you're DREAMING!"
"Mac, you're crushing my leg," Harm replied drowsily, rolling me over onto his stomach.
"You just can't go around making decisions for everyone else and believing there's no consequence!" I scream. "This is not picking out china patterns, Harm! This is an ASSASSIN! I do believe this is a topic where I have some input! And if you think that you're going to keep me out of this to 'save me' or something idiotic like that then you're sorely mistaken 'cause believe it or not, Rabb, we're a family and we sure as hell stick together and if you keep doing what you're . . . WHY ARE YOU SMILING AT ME?"
Harm grinned hazily. "You're beautiful . . ."
"HARM!" I holler. "Pay attention! What do you have to say for yourself?"
Harm stared at me for a long moment and then very quickly kissed me on the lips, pulling himself off the couch. "I'm thinking I need coffee before I'm indicted by the judge, jury, and prosecution." He looked around. "Where's Hunter?"
"Harriet's holding him . . ." I mutter fuzzily. What just happened there?
"Oh, Bud will be pleased she's here," Harm replied, running his hands through his hair as he got down on the floor and stirred Bud who had fallen asleep near the fireplace. "Wake up, Bud, your wife's here . . ." He turned back at me. "Did I tell you how happy I am to see you?"
I stare at him. "Are you high, Harm?"
Harm grinned. "Maybe." He turned back to the front hall where Vera was now screaming at both Clay and Jake, as Harriet stood rather timidly at the front door holding Hunter. "I think I'll go rescue my son now . . ."
"I mean, HONESTLY, Clay! What the HELL were you thinking?" Vera hollered. "Did you EXPECT that I would let you catch Abbas without in some way helping? What were you going to GAIN by plotting behind our backs? Our respect? Our gratification? Our undying love? Or did you expect to gain our –"
"YOUR SAFETY!" Clay hollered in sudden retaliation. "You want to know what I expected to gain? I don't need your respect or gratification or damn love as long as you are SAFE. Vera, that's what matters to me at the moment! Yes, I want to catch Abbas. Yes, I was plotting behind your back – but that's only because I care so damn much about you. I don't want you to get hurt, and that more than anything is an incentive to catch him. But the more you're involved the more at risk you are so could you just please do me a favor and STAY OUT OF IT?" He struggles to keep the volume of his voice under control. "I don't want you hurt again . . . and Abbas has harmed way too many people for that not to be a worry! So just PLEASE, Vera! Just . . . let me do my job!" And with that he storms off, Vera taking a shocked second to tear after him.
Same Time
Same Place
Vera's POV
"You don't just get to end things like that, Clay!" I hollered at him as he ran up the stairs, moodily storming down the Admiral's hallway. "We're not finished this conversation!"
"The hell we aren't," Clay hissed back. He turned around forcefully, his grey eyes penetrating my dark ones. "See you and I have a problem, Vera, and the sooner we deal with it the better. The fact is, this is a dangerous mission and if you continue on down this road there is a very high chance you will be harmed. Why don't you GET that?"
"I get it, Clay!" I screamed back. "I KNOW it's dangerous! We are talking about ABBAS. He is the best male assassin in the WORLD, Clay! Danger comes with the territory! What I don't get is why you're suddenly flipping out over this detail. We're been in dangerous situations before. This is NOTHING NEW."
"But that's the thing, Vera, it is new!" Clay's voice suddenly deadens, as he runs his hands exasperatedly through his hair. "It . . . it just is. Before – yes, it was dangerous – but it was different then. Back then you were my partner and we looked out for each other but never was there that constant fear that . . ." Clay broke off. "Never mind."
My eyes take in his weary expression, his lost eyes, and at the same time I can feel my anger slowly ebb away. "No, keep going . . ."
Clay sighed in frustration, "I don't KNOW, Vera. I don't know why this is happening, I don't know what to do about it. All I know is I don't want you anywhere NEAR Abbas and it's not because I don't think you can handle it. I just . . . don't know."
I drew in a slow breath. "Well, Clay, I'm going to be there . . . I'm going to be there when we catch Abbas. And I'm going to help, I'm going to be a part of it. And you know what? We're going to make it out okay. Yeah, we are . . . 'cause we have something so much better to strive for." My eyes sink into his. "Clay . . . I'm pregnant."
And just like that, the world crashes around my ears. "You're . . . what?"
I turn around, and there he stands in the doorway, my ghost . . . the man that haunts my dreams, that lights up my life, my best friend – and never has there been a more heart breaking image then the expression that is etched into his features. Jake stares at me, and then Clay, and then back at me. His body's shaking . . . he's shivering uncontrollably. I try to catch his eye but he refuses to meet mine. "Jake, just let me explain . . ." I begin but –
"No, you don't have to," Jake replied, anguish seeping into his voice. "I don't . . . I don't want to know." He looks away, internally torn. "God, I can't do this anymore!" His eyes are like those of a lost puppy, one kicked and beaten too many times. "I can't . . . Clay, I'm taking that position in Venice. I'm trade places with Shapiro."
Clay opens his mouth and closes it again. "Jake . . ."
"Just don't!" Jake exclaimed surprisingly loudly, biting his lower lip hard as he looked away. I felt myself begin to internally crumble. Jake only ever bit his lip when he was going through absolute emotional torture. "I . . . I need to get away from here."
And with that he fled through the open door.
A/N: whew, that was a long one . . . nine pages and for someone who's supposedly suffering writer's block, that's not all that bad (again, to all you really long chapter writers out there, keep in mind for me this is officially an extraordinary feat). Hopefully I can update quickly, before school gets going, but I make no promises. Homework's a fickle thing.
A/N2: next chapter will begin several months later. Again, to speed up the process . . .
Southernqt: lol, I love Jake too . . . but I still can't tell you what's going to happen. Or who she's going to end up with . . . and believe me – as horrible as I might seem for doing to Jake what I did in this chapter, every time he's hurt I'm bleeding too . . . I mean, I created him . . . I hate it when he gets like this.
Sgcgirl52: hmm . . . I love Jake too. But I also love Clay. Who do I like more? Well, no competition there . . . Jake's mine. As much as I would love to take credit for Clay, he belongs to DPB . . . and then of course there's Vera, caught in the middle of it all. We'll just wait to see how it plays out.
Bail's Other Daughter: lol, darn school . . . always getting in the way of the truly important things in life! Anyways, I'll try my best to update every few days . . . apparently this year they're supposed to be really heavy on the homework, but that's what Study Hall's for, right?
Toplesslemon: ah, your friend sounds so much like mine . . . I used to start like a million stories but then they all kind of deadpanned at twenty pages or something and then my friend finally coaxed me to put a chapter up on the website and then when I got the reviews it was like . . . an incentive. You know, it's really strange . . . I don't think you can honestly realize how exhilarating a review is until you actually get one . . . I mean, I thought they would be NICE and everything but they just, I don't know, they get me pumped to write. Which is always a good thing. And when I publish my first book – I'm dedicating it to all my reviewers. LOL, if I get published . . .
Eggy weg: thanks, I did prolong the pregnancy thing quite a bit – is she, or isn't she? But it kept people in suspense, which I – being an angst writer – like to do. Hope you enjoyed this chapter . . .
Syraë: You read The Da Vinci Code in less than a week! Omg, that took me like two weeks . . . and I really enjoyed that book. Wasn't it the best? I like anything by Dan Brown . . . especially the Robert Langdon books. Angels & Demons rocked – and I can't wait for the Solomon Key (I'm a total Dan Brown nut, can you tell?) And now I have even more of an excuse to worship you! (Seriously – I took two weeks)
Freezepops: lol, you're better at me than reviewing. I suck at reviewing just as loudly as I do on author's notes. I use the word 'um' a lot and 'yeah . . .'. Whole point of the review: you're doing a good job and keep going. What it ends up sounding like is somewhere between nonsense and gobbledygook.
Prinnie: lol, you must really like babies.
Acer-127: lol, I love it when reviewers from one story switch to the other . . . cuz in reality, the amount of people that read both TLWL and Full Throttle is actually very slim . . . like five or something. Which I find funny . . . but then again, I guess I shouldn't – considering the stories are very little alike. I don't even write in the same style. But I'm glad you enjoyed it. Seriously, it must have been a lot of reading though . . . my master file says it's over two hundred pages . . . I dunno if I could ever do that. LOL, I'll write it . . . hard reading it, though.
JamieAKAaclassyone: true, very true . . . completely heartless of me BUT I got actual Harm and Mac SCENES in this one! See . . . I have a heart (however hollow and tin-like it is . . .)
Concrete Angel Lullaby: omg, if you want good Bud and Harriet stories you should read the stuff by Strawberry Kittens (I beta them). They're total Bud and Harriet shippers (not so much Harm and Mac – which in my book is totally unforgivable) I like Bud and Harriet, they're good characters . . . I can't say they're going to be as main as Harm and Mac are, but I'll try and use them to the best of their ability.
Froggy0319: lol, I'm with you there . . . like seriously, who invented school? And what's more, who invented the fact that summer vacation is ONLY two months? Like, they couldn't at least give us a quarter of the year? Omg, and you're like one of the only people I know who is actually HAPPY that Vera's pregnant . . .
Pissed Off Poet 1: LOL, the typical HM abnormal life is for the sequel! I know a lot of people were disappointed when I wrote Vera was pregnant . . . but it all ties into the story. That is, for the sequel . . . I debate on whether to write it in, and then my friend heard my possible ending and she said I just HAD to do it . . . I was having doubts but . . . oh hell, this is going to be nearly impossible to end.
Radiorox: Hey, I'm not saying you have to like JAG's Clay . . . I hate JAG's Clay. DPB totally misused him. Like, here Clay was an obnoxious CIA agent with a lot of connections – THAT they could have used. But NOPE, let's make Paraguay, and let's make everyone hate him. What a fine plan that was. Ugh, I used to like internally puke every time he came onto the screen (that's now reserved for Vukovic) so I rewrote Clay the way he should have been. The obnoxious CIA agent who had at least a basic sense of morals. LOL, and I'll send him over to you as soon as I'm done with him!
Lani: lol, your first day of school? Haha, mine's on Tuesday . . . oh, dunno why I'm laughing – oh the horror. Yeah, that's more like it. LOL, can you imagine a mini Webb? That's actually kind of funny . . . oh no, I'm laughing again.
MiDushiNoSushi: alright, let's forget Paraguay ever happened (I'm still ranting about that) and if you base you opinion on that fact – Clay's a pretty decent guy. And no, he will never have another shot at Mac because frankly he never should have been given a first shot (again, still ranting about Paraguay) and in the mean time you've got Abbas who wants to kill them all, while they're feuding internally. You've got Jake who's madly in love with Vera, Clay too, and Vera's torn between them. Present day Clay, or Past love Jake? And I agree, it's beginning to take the shape of the Harm-Mac-(everyone else she's ever dated) triangle . . . but I guess we've got to start asking ourselves, who is Harm – Jake or Clay?
Vhosek malacath: lol, you were right . . . girls found out, guys in deep . . . ah, this story's venturing far too close to its ending for comfort!
Jaggurl: yeah, lol . . . we didn't get much of a reaction from Clay – more from Jake. But anyways, more to come in the next chapter . . .
Fran: ah, it's so wonderful to get new reviewers! They give you a whole new point of view on things, you know? First of all – did you SERIOUSLY read Full Throttle in an hour? That's like crazy, it's so long . . . it would take me like two or three days. But then again, I could never do it in one stretch . . . I've got to write for like five hours a day to keep the schedule normal. And you're the same as me – I don't like stories that give Harm and Mac you know . . . a happy ending before the ending, if you know what I mean. Like, stories that have them married with life all fine and everything, I lose interest . . . 'cause the whole fun in a story is seeing how they get to that point and what obstacles they have to overcome (Abbas is quite the obstacle, isn't he?) but that's the fun of side characters like Vera, Clay, and Jake – though I argue they're about as main as Harm and Mac at this point. You don't need to be JAG-wise correct because you can tie them into the story and create their own history. And would you believe me if I told you Jake was a complete mistake?
Daisymh: thanks, hope you liked this chapter.
Judy52sa: lol, I have a LOT of stories in mind, but after this one will come the sequel. I've got that story all planned out, but we'll just see how the ending of this one goes. I can feel the end approaching rapidly – it's so close it's scaring me. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story. I love getting new reviewers, because I love getting different points of views on things. I'm really glad you like the way I write this story – for one thing I'm fond of this style too (well, obviously, because I'm writing in it) but my writing teacher just hates it and I'm always getting low marks in writing class for using it, but I think it's great because then you get into the mind of your character, hear their thoughts and feel their emotions so much better. And . . . well, I guess it's just easy for me to write emotion into Jake and Vera because I created them, you know? I created their past and their present and everything around them. I don't own the JAG characters, so it takes a lot more imagination for me to put myself in their shoes . . . but it's fun at the same time. A bit of a challenge.
TV Angel 711: couldn't agree with you more! Harm and Mac are like the best shipper couple EVER TO EXIST! And JAG's the best TV show to exist (can you believe that NONE of my friends watch JAG? It's so sad . . .)
Angie Capriatti: thanks, glad you like that Vera's pregnant. Some people were a little disappointed, all those Vera-Jake shippers. But there's a whole plot to it all so . . . yeah. And I like that idea – I keep writing, you keep reviewing. LOL
FoxyWombat: lol, your neighbor tried to review you? I told my friends about it and some of them dropped by to review . . . and then some of my not-so-friendly friends dropped by and left really bad reviews – but I can always tell it's them cuz they say nothing about JAG whatsoever. LOL, none of my friends watch JAG . . . (they're just immature and not attracted by purely brilliant TV)
Shalimar 2: glad you're liking the story and I hope you liked this chapter too!
Strawberry Kittens: lol, wow, you wanted Vera to be pregnant? All those Vera/Jake people out there sure didn't . . . yeah – Harriet has no problem ordering people around. Do you know what the name Harriet actually means? Home ruler! I thought that was very funny . . .