Just as a note: I'm no legal pro, so I don't know if the articles I mention really work in this case. They only seemed the most fitting.


-Trials And Tribulations-

0527 - way too early. I turn around to lie on my stomach and burry my face in the pillow. Maybe blocking out the dim light that is already floating into the room will help keeping my mind bare of thoughts and get me another hour of sleep. However, after nothing more than a minute I turn my head to face the doors that are connecting Harm's room to mine.

He is so close it would be easy walking over to him, to just open these doors. But I choose to remain in my bed preferring the safety.

Our conversation from the flight rewinds in my mind. Is it that Harm really sees Maverick as a threat? Is Maverick a threat? It would be easy for me to fall for Mav. But would choosing Mav, with all his similarities to Harm, not mean choosing the easy way when being with Harm is a much harder thing to do?

Starring at the two thin doors I think about my options. I could never settle for anybody else than Harm, no matter how great the similarities. He would never be Harm, he would never be my flyboy. True, Pete Mitchell became a friend fast, but more would mean denying my heart. I listened to my mind before when my heart lay broken in the dust and it always failed to make me happy in the end. I accepted Mic in my life because I thought I knew what I wanted instead of listening to my heart for what I needed. Understanding that "not yet" meant "not yet". It was not much different in Paraguay. I knew why Harm had resigned his commission, that his job had no longer been the only important thing in his life. And yet still I needed to hear the words my heart already felt. I did not trust my heart alone.

My thoughts drift to these faithful days. The night I so desperately wanted him to say the words, to state his intention. He could not and it broke my heart into a million pieces. The day I broke his in return, not because I really believed in what I said but because it was somewhat easier to piece my heart back together without the risk to have it broken again. I am not sure why he did not fight me over this, why he could not even say something there and then. A word, one single word might have changed it all. Sometimes only words can prove what our hearts believe.

I must have dozed off during my contemplation of my memories because when I check back on the time it is a few minutes after seven. Finally time to get up. After getting myself ready I once again stare at the connecting doors. I should see if he is ready yet.

I open my door and then reach for the handle of his. Slowly I press it down, anticipating the moment it would open into his room. The handle is all the way down and I am slightly leaning against the door when…

…it does not open.

I try again with slightly more weight pressed against the door. Maybe it is just jammed.

It still doesn't open. His door is barred; he hasn't opened it. Unlocking this door was the first thing I did last night after entering the room. It seemed natural for me to do so, but obviously it did not for him.

"Harm?" I call through the door supporting my knock.

"Is that you Mac?"

"Who else would it be? Open up please."

"Wait a second I'm right there."

I take a step back into my room when I hear him turn the key.

"Good morning Mac." He gives me his brilliant smile totally unaware of any of my thoughts caused by the locking of his door.

"Good morning." Only after my second glance do I see that he is already fully dressed. "How long have you been up?"

"A while. You?"

We are still standing under the door frame, neither of us having moved. "About two hours."

"You could have woken me."

"Why?"

"Don't know. So what did you do?"

Lying in bed and staring at the door. The door you kept locked. "I was just thinking, I guess."

"Anything you come up with that I should be aware of regarding the hearing?"

"As if I would tell you my tactics, sailor." I slap him lightly across the chest trying to mask my anxiety by something he would expect me to do.

"You should, it could mean that Captain Mitchell won't be going to court. I thought that's what you want." He takes a step towards me while he speaks and is still grinning at me. His eyes tell me that he likes our little interaction, likes it a lot. Right now I don't.

"It is not." Anger is evident in my voice. I long ago found anger to be the best mask for whatever emotions I may harbor. Getting angry at others would mean they are not to see my feelings which right now are something between hurt and fear.

"Oh, but that's what you –" He tips his finger against my shoulder right underneath my collarbone, "- told the General."

I back away from his touch. It tends to divert my feelings, mix them up. Crossing my arms in front of my chest I try blocking him out, try to shield myself from that smile that still lingers on his lips. How can he be so indifferent to what he did? That he created just another barrier between us. Another wall to get over when there are already so many rocks on our way to stumble over.

"I'm not gonna play it easy on you." For a second I see confusion crossing his features about the serious tone of my words. But then they clear and he is back to his easy manner, closing the gap between us with an ease I don't feel right now.

"Too bad, I would have been really nice to you in return." His closeness and the tone of his voice make the little hairs in my neck stand up.

This very moment I do not trust my voice to stay even. He once again got to me despite my guard and intentions. So all I can manage is to raise my brows in a questioning manner. What was that supposed to mean?

"How about breakfast? You must be hungry if you've been up that long already," he effortlessly changes the subject as if he never said what he just did. And in an instant the moment has passed and I am left with only his words fogging my brain. Still contemplating the meaning of his words I follow him out of his room and to the restaurant.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

"Captain Pete Mitchell, this is the article 32 hearing concerning the accusation according to articles 80 – Attempts, 93 – Cruelty and Maltreatment as well as 108 – Damage of Military Property of the United States. Do you understand the charges?"

It is 1030 hours in the small courtroom the administration building the base offers and I am nervous. I haven't been this nervous since my wedding day. My hands, which are clasped to my sides are all sweaty and I need to force my breath to even out. So this is what will decide my future career.

"I do your honor." Rabb ran through the paragraphs and their meaning with me this morning.

I guess I should be relieved that this is not the actual court martial yet but the hearing. It could mean I won't face any charges, that I'll still have my job by the end of it. However, my nerves don't enjoy that sense of security and optimism; they feel as if I am being brought forward to my execution.

"You may sit down. Is the government ready to begin?"

"It is your honor." I chance a quick glance at Mac when she stands up to call her first witness. She looks at home behind the big oak desk. I am sure she is a good lawyer, but I wish she wasn't.

"Our first witness will be Lieutenant Commander Markus Reynolds, US Navy."

I've never heard of him. Wonder what he's got to do with my case.

"Commander Reynolds, you work at the research lab on the base. What do you do there?"

"Mainly we investigate material failures or search for finger prints. Things like that. When ever you've got some hardware to check you come to us."

"So you were called to examine the failed oxygen mask of an F/A-18 last Monday? What did you find?"

"Usual routine is to check the hardware first. Only then do we run function tests. But we didn't need to this time. I found an incision in the hose that clearly showed the marks of a knife."

"Does the Captain wear such a knife?" Yeah, me and hundred other pilots on this base.

"He does. It's the standard Navy knife all pilots get."

"Thank you Commander."

Rabb slowly rises from his chair seconds after Mac sat down in hers. Now it is our turn.

"Did you examine the Captain's knife?"

"Yes I did. It fit the marks."

"How about the knife from Lieutenant Reese?"

"It could fit the marks as well."

"So you can't say whose knife has been used, can you?"

"No I can't."

"Did you find any fingerprints?"

"No, nothing."

"Thank you, Commander."

Rabb sits down beside me and scribbles something on the legal pad in front of him. I'm not sure about him, but I feel a little relieved that my knife is not the only one to fit.

"Government calls Lieutenant Mandy Reese, US Navy." It occurs to me that it is the first time I've heard the Lieutenant's given name. It makes her more feminine. Ironic that this is the first time that I really think of her as a woman when I am sitting here because she believed I maltreated her because of her sex.

I watch Mandy Reese repeat the Colonel's words before she sits down at the judge's left hand side.

"Lieutenant, you are the one filing the complaint against Captain Mitchell?"

"Yes ma'am."

"He is your Commanding Officer?"

"Yes, he is."

"Why did you do it?"

The Lieutenant looks straight at me while she takes her time to answer the question. I get the feeling that she is no longer sure about this being right.

"Commander Andersen told me I could do so." To my ears this sounds pretty insecure.

"Commander Andersen is one of the base's Judge Advocates?"

"Yeah, I mean yes ma'am. I went there to hear what I can do after you told me you would not recommend any charges."

"You did that why?"

"Ma'am, you said that somebody cut the hose of my oxygen mask and still you didn't file any charges. I just wanted to know if that was all that could be done."

"What happened next?"

"I was told that I could personally file a complaint and that it might come to charges that way."

"Why did you need to complain about Captain Mitchell?"

"I heard that the Captain wanted me out of the program. He said that because I'm a woman and he thinks we're not up to flying jets."

I lean closer to Rabb to whisper, "There is no possible way I said something like that." He just nods at me in return.

"Objection. The witness can't know about my client's thoughts."

"Sustained. Lieutenant don't report on what you think others believe."

"Aye, ma'am. But I had no problems with any of the other people I know. There simply was nobody else who had reason to sabotage my mask." Obviously there was.

"How was your relationship to Captain Mitchell before that incident?"

"We hadn't much contact. He fooled me each time I was up against him in my Hornet."

"So he had tried to get rid of you before, to get you dispelled from the program?"

"I believe so, yes."

"No further questions."

Mac doesn't look at either me or the Commander when she returns to her chair. She hadn't throughout the whole interview. When the Lieutenant made eye contact with me the Colonel stepped into her line of sight as if to block me out of the Lieutenant's thoughts. She hasn't moved since, always facing the judge and the witness; during the other interviews she walked the whole space between the judge's bench and our tables, every now and then casting a glance in out direction. I guess it's a pretty good tactic to humiliate the accused. After all I do feel humiliated and I didn't even do it.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

"Lieutenant, do you know that there is no way of getting somebody expelled from the Top Gun program unless he or she is a risk to his or her own life and those of others?"

"Objection. Why does the Lieutenant have to know about the regulations of this program?" I remain sitting in my chair already aware that the objection will be dismissed and Harm is going to raise the query that will question most of the Lieutenant's motive.

"Goes to determine the motive your honor." There he goes.

"Overruled. The Lieutenant will answer the question."

"No sir, I don't."

"Did the Captain force you to make any extremely risky maneuvers while you were chasing him?"

"No sir, we could always do what we think would work best."

"So there was no way for him to get you dispelled that way."

"That's why he had to cut the hose." Now that sounds pretty desperate. As if she, like everybody else in this room, understood that her motive for blaming Maverick went down the drain.

"We will come to this. For now would you please answer only my questions?"

"Aye, aye sir."

"You said earlier that you only learned of the cut from Colonel MacKenzie. Is this right?"

"Yes sir, she told me."

"Before that, you believed it to be an accident?"

"Guess so."

"And up until you learned of it, you never thought of the Captain to have done anything wrong?"

"He pulled mean tricks on me in the air."

"Right, mean tricks."

Now I stand up to make my point. "Objection, counsel's mocking the witness."

"Sustained."

"Isn't it true that nearly everybody has had the chance to get to your flight gear? And that you blame the Captain only because you can't come up with anybody else but wanted someone to pay?"

"No. He wants me out."

"Don't you trust a capable Judge Advocate to collect and examine all the evidence before she files a recommendation?" I cannot help but feel a little flattered by his statement, though I know it to be the truth.

Harm does not wait for her to answer his last question but turns with a "Nothing further, your honor," on his lips.

"This court is in recess until 1400 hours." I hear the gravel bang and wait for the judge to rise.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

"So what do you say Commander?"

"We made some points." Actually not scoring any points today would mean I should give up my job. This has been easy.

"I liked the one about the Lieutenant having cut the hose herself."

"I never said that."

"But you pointed out that her knife could have been used as well." Mitchell is looking at me slightly at a loss. He does not understand the difference between stating something and letting somebody else come to the conclusion by themselves. I could never prove that she cut it herself, plus I highly doubt it.

"How about lunch, Captain?"

"May I join you?" Mac now stands beside me.

"Certainly," Mitchell answers before I can even open my mouth.

"You wouldn't have discussed any new developments, now would you, Harm?"

"Nah, no need to." I know I am sounding a bit too conceited.

"We'll see about that, flyboy," she says flashing me a grin. "Let's get going."

For a second I feel Mitchell's glance on me before he turns and engages himself in a conversation with Mac. Feeling like the third wheel, I walk alongside Mac's other side silently listening to their conversation.

When we cross the street for the Silver State Club a voice calls out for the Captain to stop.

"Maverick."

We turn and wait for the woman that is hurrying our way. Watching Mitchell I catch a smile forming on his lips. Another one captured by his 'charm'.

"How did it go?" the woman asks once she arrives at his side.

"My attorney said we made some progress." I see Mac watching me with a smile. She knows we did, but she knows she did too.

"Oh, that's good honey."

Honey?

"Colonel, Commander, let me introduce my wife Charlotte Mitchell. These are my defense counsel Harmon Rabb and the prosecution Sarah MacKenzie."

"Charlie. Nice meeting you Commander, Colonel." She gives us both a warm smile of welcome. "You're having lunch with the prosecution?"

"Sure, she needs to eat as well."

"That she does. Well, good luck, Mav. I need to run; I have a class in ten. See you tonight." She places a short kiss on her husband's lips before she hurries away again.

A little perplexed, Mac and I watch her back disappear into the distance.

"You two coming?"

"Yeah," Mac answers and walks up to Mitchell who has already made it to the door of the O-Club. Not wanting to be left behind and not wanting to leave these two alone I hurry after her.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

The lunch was fine, fine and funny. Funny that is if you ignore the bad mood Harm has seemed to be in.

"Thanks Maverick for the lunch. See you in court."

"I can't do anything about it." He shrugs his shoulders with a smile before he addresses Harm. "Can we talk about what will happen next?"

"Actually I'd like to have a word with the Commander myself, if that's okay."

"Sure." He heads off, but then turns to say, "No dealings."

"Alright," I answer when Harm still stays silent.

I wait for Maverick to turn around the corner before I start to speak again. "Harm, what is it? You haven't talked much during lunch. It can't be about the case, can it?"

"Nothing for you to bother about. I'll deal with it I guess." He takes a few steps away from me to lean against the wall.

"Come on Harm, you know you can tell me."

"Do I?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" His whole change of attitude during the last hour has taken me by surprise and his now slightly raised voice is only adding to that, completed by the strangeness of his question.

"Don't know, maybe that you've got other things to occupy your mind."

"That would be?" I am no longer trying to calm the waves. He's going to go for it.

"Just observing things."

"Is that what you did during lunch, observe things? What do you think you saw?"

"What I saw? My client gets along better with the prosecution than with his own counsel." Alright, that is what this is about. He still doesn't trust me about Maverick, even though he was there.

"That might be because you despise him for no apparent reason."

"I believe there is enough reason to keep an eye on him."

"So we're back at you being jealous."

"I'm not jealous. I just think that my client should not be on joking terms with the prosecution."

"So you'd rather have me lunching alone."

"That's not what I meant."

"No, you meant that I don't have the right to find new friends." I point my index at him to emphasize my words.

"Not as long as you're trying to get them court-martialed." And probably not as long as they might claim your place.

"Weren't you the one who taught me to separate my professional life from my private one? You told me once to keep what happened in the court room in the court room. Why can't you?"

"This got nothing to do with me. This is about you and Captain Mitchell."

"Here we go. You do feel threatened by him, don't you?"

He casts his eyes down to the floor for an answer. His next words are only whispered and I almost miss them. "You're a beautiful woman." For him this explains everything.

Immediately my temper cools considerably. "He's a married man, Harm," I say taking a step towards him.

"It wouldn't stop me." He still isn't looking at me.

"I know you better than that, it would."

Suddenly his head jerks back up and he looks straight at me. "You don't know him. Hell, you only met him four days ago."

"I know you possibly can't understand but I'm as sure about him as I'm sure about you." I gently touch his arm before I softly say, "Besides, I wouldn't let him."

He does not answer this one but keeps staring at my hand on his arm. I am not removing it.

"I'm sorry."

"Think you can deal with it when I promise he is no threat?"

"I'll have to, won't I?" His eyes are now level with mine so I clearly see the insecurity that is still lingering in them.

"Yes, you do." I start rubbing my hand over his arm to reassure him that I'll be there, that Maverick will not take me from him.

"We should get back into court. I still need to talk with my client."

"Alright." I finally retreat my hand from his arm and let it fall to my side. Silently we walk the corridor side by side.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

"I'm home," I tell the empty hall when I enter my house.

"You're early." Charlie comes strolling out of our home office.

"You forget I'm not allowed to do my job."

"Yeah that's why it's now up to me to entertain you for the rest of the day." She takes my jacket and carefully places it on its hanger. I guess with time it has become an automatic move, something like turning the key when you want to start your car. You do not have to think about it anymore. And she does not think about my jacket, she just takes it every night and hangs it up.

"Anything special on your mind?"

"How does a movie sound?"

"Perfect. So how was your class?"

"Great. 90 minutes with 20 hot shots. You simply have to love them." She wraps her arms around me.

"You always have." My hands reach up for her face and tenderly frame it. I like the feel of her skin against my fingers. Like to trace the little wrinkles beside her eyes. Softly I pull her head towards mine. Our lips come to meet in a kiss that has not lost any of the passion our first kiss held.

"Not before you came along." She takes my hand and walks me to the living room. "What about your lunch, was it nice?"

"Quite pleasant. Do you remember when I told you about the woman I met in the O-Club at the start of the week?"

We settle down in our favorite places on the larger of our two sofas. Out of habit my feet come to rest on the coffee table and my wife curls up beside me, her head on my shoulder.

"Vaguely. You told me you felt like you could tell her about everything. Was that her today?"

"Yeah."

"Do you still feel the need to talk about the accident?"

Do I? It is almost twenty years now. Considering that Nick Bradshaw had been my best friend, my family I did cope with it rather well, but am I over it yet? Maybe I never will though I found out that talking about it helps dealing with it.

"Does it bother you that I feel that way about Mac?" After all it has taken me two years to tell my wife about my feelings concerning Goose's death.

"Not much. I know that there are some things I can't help you with and I accepted that a long time ago." I kiss her forehead that is resting against my cheek. I know that she is the only person to truly understand me and that she'll only be a step away when I need her.

"Why do you think you feel that strongly about her?"

"Maybe she has gone through similar experiences, maybe she's just a good listener." I really cannot tell.

"Have you talked to her yet?"

"No. And ever since Rabb, this partner of hers, is around I don't see a chance. I don't think he likes me much."

"Maybe because he finds it odd that you and this Mac got this close that fast."

"I find it odd myself, believe me."

"Or is there something between these two?"

"Did you realize anything?"

"No, just guessing from experience." With that she places a quick kiss on my lips before she snuggles back against my shoulder.

"Should I get the film started?"

"Don't, I'd like to just sit here for a while and treasure the moment."

I lean back and wrapping my arm a little tighter around my wife I close my eyes to do just that.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

I should be reading my notes on the interviews with our witnesses to prepare for tomorrow, but all I can do is think back to this afternoon. The look in her eyes clearly told me that I have no reason at all to worry about Mitchell. I want to trust her, I do trust her. However, my heart misses a beat each time she smiles at him, each time they share a laugh. She said she likes him because he is like me. That's probably what makes me go crazy, that if he's like me he'd certainly develop similar feelings for Mac. That maybe in the end he would take my place with her.

My eyes travel to the doors we left open. She is here with me, she said she would be. But how long? I know I've hurt her with my jealousy, because jealousy it is. So how long will she remain so close? How long will we both be able to bear our current situation?

Holding my breath I listen for any sound from her room. There lingers silence. The same silence that lingered throughout the hours since our conversation. Realizing it is up to me to break it I take a deep breath and get up from my chair.

"Mac?" I knock on her door, standing on my side of the threshold.

She does not look up from her reading. "Mhm?"

"I want to apologize for ruining your lunch. Let me buy you dinner?"

She finally looks at me. "You know how to win my heart. Apology accepted."

"Probably more your stomach than your heart."

"No matter what, you've got me with you. So where are you taking me?"

"How does a steakhouse sound?" There is one about four blocks from the hotel. We pass it each time we drive to the base. And I already thought of taking her there before.

"Yummy."

Now this meal I enjoy. We talk about everything that is not work related. We muse about the looks of the two newest Roberts kids that are due every day now. We talk about Mattie and how I miss her. We talk like friends. Friends talking about friends.

"How is Chaplain Turner doing?"

"Last time I asked Sturgis he said that the Chaplain is nearly as fit as ever."

"Good to hear that. Did you visit him again?"

"No." I always wanted to but never found the time. There was always something keeping me from going. I think back to the day at the hospital, when the ever present man seemed so tired, so pale. When I look back at Mac she seems to be forlorn in her own thoughts, absentmindedly playing with her napkin.

Feeling my eyes on her she let go of the item and looks at me a small smile on her lips. "That was delicious. Thank you for the dinner, Harm."

"You're welcome."

In between these last sentences her eyes frequently traveled to the small dance floor.

"Do you want to dance?" Standing up I hold my hand out for her to take and pull her up.

"Love to."

My hand on the small of her back I guide her through the tables. A slow country song is filling up the room. Something about a lost love. A man's voice is singing about the mistakes he made. Mac is turning around to face me when we reach the open space. I wrap my arms around her when the man continues on the things he misses about his love. She squeezes her arms trough the gap between my body and my own arms and let them rest on my hips. We slowly take the first steps, softly swaying our bodies to the fading music. Another song comes on when Mac closes her eyes and lowers her head against my shoulder. The world around me fades into the distance. All that remains is the feeling of her body next to mine and the slight tickling her hair causes on my cheek. I stopped caring about the music. My music is the drumming of our joined heartbeats. I could dance like this forever.

-J-A-G-

-J-A-G-

My heart still feels like dancing when he guides me back into my room.

I don't know how long we stayed on the dance floor in each other's arms. And nor do I know who stopped first, but at some point we just stopped dancing. We simply stayed there in the middle of the room and starred at each other. His eyes held so much depth, like the bluest ocean. And like the sunrise above the horizon, his eyes began to shine. Helplessly I was drawn to them, wanted to drown in them. I so much needed his lips on mine that when they finally made contact I started to shiver. He rubbed his hands up and down my back while his tongue shyly brushed against my lips. Willingly I opened my mouth, letting my tongue contact his.

The cough of an older woman made us break the contact. For another while we kept standing there before we slowly made our way back to the table.

"It was a wonderful evening," he says closing the door behind us.

"It doesn't have to be over."

"I need to prepare for tomorrow." His apologetic glance tells me he is not trying to back off but is speaking the truth.

"You can work here, can't you?" I don't want him to be in the other room I want him close right now.

"I'll be right back." He flashes me a quick smile before he hurries into his room only to be back a second later, a file in hand.

"You can have the bed if you like." I settle down in the chair next to the door, opposite the bed. He lies down on my bed, his head propped up on his hand and the file opened beneath his elbow.

Finally I turn to the file containing tomorrow's witnesses myself. After having read for a while I hear steady breathing. When I look up I find Harm asleep on the bed. I carefully pick up the file and the papers that are spread all over the bed and place them on the little table. I gather mine as well and put them right next to his. For a moment I consider pulling the blanket free from beneath him but decide against it. I would wake him in the process. So I take the one from the wardrobe instead.

I just have to stare at him. He looks so cute when he is sleeping. I can almost picture the little boy he once was.

Softly, I make my way towards the doors between our rooms. For a while I remain there leaned against the frame looking at the peaceful scene. Finally I find the will to pull my gaze from him and turn to close the door behind me and settle for the night in his bed.

I close my eyes and curl into a ball willing sleep to come. But bit by bit my thoughts slip through under the crack between the door and the floor back into the other room, back to him. My mind's eye is producing an image of the sleeping man so real I am tempted to reach out for him. I won't be able to find any sleep this way.

So giving in, I get back up and reopen the door. I keep standing there for another moment. He has moved slightly. Should I really do it? Hell, it's what I want to do. Just as quietly as I left the room some twenty minutes prior, I now walk back to the bed. Hesitating another moment I finally sit on the bed. This is no double bed but still large. There is enough space left for me to snuggle up beside him. So I carefully lie down holding my breath for a moment hoping he doesn't wake from my movements. I couldn't have explained just why I would rather sleep in this bed than alone. Then again maybe I wouldn't have needed to explain.

Once I have settled into a comfortable position I feel him stir a little before his arm wraps around me. Smiling I finally fade off into dreamland. Tonight I will not wake searching for warmth, because it is enveloping me like a sweet cocoon.

-T-O-P-

-G-U-N-

Thanks starryeyes10 for reading all my stuff, it means a lot to me.

Besides, is there anybody else out there still reading this? Just drop a short hello, would ya?