Title: Today Is A Good Day

Author: Vid Z.

Pairing: Harm/Jen

Category: Angst, alot of Romance, Fluff - you'll get sugar shock.

Warnings: character death, but it's not really, read to find out! I hate character death fics (they make me depressed) so that should say it all on how this one ends.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc of the TV show JAG. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this fic. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Size: 71kb in rtf format.

Thanks: to Lynn for her continuing support and encouraging me to never give up when I had a block. You're the greatest, Lynn!

Tnx also to Suz for her help and suggestions.

This is my answer to the flashback/dreams challenge on JagHarmJenShippers yahoo group.

AN #1: I chose the title for this fic after one of my favorite songs by my favorite group. Manowar's "Today Is A Good Day To Die" is the most powerful instrumental-only song I have ever heard (except for the classics by Beethoven, Mozart, Barber,...). The song starts with thunder, rain and lightening. Sounds of a furious storm, with which this fic starts. Then the drums start to beat. Main instruments are the guitar and the drums, no vocals. A fantastic, very powerful song that leaves few people unaffected. You can find it on the album "Louder than Hell".

AN #2: I've never had a Ford, I'm just going along with what people spread on the net about it, which means that this myth is not necessarily true. I'm just using the stereotype in this fic cause it helps the plot.

AN #3: for this fic Mattie had returned to her father sometime in October.

AN #4: I don't know how old Jen is by canon. The actress is 32, I decided to make her 28.

AN #5: I'm from Europe, so I don't have a clue about DC's and it's vicinity's topography, so I don't know how far it is from DC to Blacksburg (if it even exists), but during a stormy night, looking out for a stranded vehicle, a one way drive takes about 3 hours in my world. Something may have been said on the show on this topic, but I haven't seen it.

AN #6: this is a Harm/Jen centric fic, meaning that most of the focus is directed at their friendship and budding romance. Other JAG characters will only pop up occasionally, but hold no say in the plot. Of everyone else at JAG, Cresswell will have the longest and most important appearance. He will look out of character to some, but I wanted to explore the man behind the professional mask. He may seem too soft to some, but even Marines are people!

Praise and constructive criticism will be accepted with a grateful smile; flames will be used to keep the fireplace burning.

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A ROAD IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE

0124 PM local

14th November 2004

The rain was coming down hard, making poor visibility even worse. The black tarmac of the road surface, which swallowed the light of the headlights on a good dry night, was just a wide black hole in the middle of the horizon. While on dry nights it reflected little light as it is, in these conditions it seemed to swallow it wholly.

The windshield wipers were working over-time and Harm imagined he could see smoke coming from the little electric engines running them. The heat was on full blast, fighting to keep out the cold that was coming in through the cracks in the car's bodywork and through it's soft, convertible roof. The radio was on, but only as a background noise, set on the stations that transmitted traffic and road conditions reports.

It was times like these that Harm wondered why he didn't keep his Lexus in the garage. The SUV was at the mechanic's, waiting for new tires to arrive.

Harm cursed again, wishing he would've caught the punk, who had slashed all the SUV's tires, red handed. He would've taught him some respect for other people's property.

While not violent by nature, few things upset Harm more than people with no respect for other people's lives and property. He was especially angry now, since he had to take the Vette out into this cold and rain. It was just a question of time before the water on the ground turned into ice and the Vette was notoriously bad in these kind of conditions.

Wind tunnel testing, computer calculated optimal designs of the chassis, full knowledge of downforces, aerodynamic and crush zones were a thing of science fiction at the time this car was designed.

Though the designers knew how to make a sports car which behaved nicely during optimal road conditions and race tracks, current conditions were far from optimal. Even SUVs aren't exactly prime candidates for driving in such conditions. Their excessive weight, wide tires, soft suspension and long wheel base often has them flummoxed by ice patches, snow and mud.+

What was now needed was a true off-road vehicle. It was times like these Harm longed for a Humvee, gas-guzzling as they are, they were still some of the safest vehicles on the road and ice was nothing to them.

Harm internally smiled at the thought of driving to work through Washington in a Humvee with the full optional package: .50 caliber machine gun on the roof, armored glass and bodywork, snorkel, camo paint (perhaps urban or skyblue camo), reinforced roll cage,... His 85 years old neighbour, Mrs. Braebourn, would probably have a heart attack if she saw him come driving home in that beast.

A gentle smile spread across his face at the thought of that sweet little old lady, who baked him cookies and always said he should eat more.

He rubbed his tired, red eyes, squinting when he thought he saw something in the distance. 'No, it was just a road sign.'

It was over midnight when he got the call. Her car broke down in the middle of nowhere, during one of the worst rain storms of the year. She was coming home late, was visiting a friend and forgot the time.

'Aha, there is something out there!'

He squinted and could just make out something orange flashing in the dark.

He slowed down to a near-crawl and recognized the emergency indicators of the stranded light blue 1991 Ford Sierra.

'FORD, Found On Road Dead' thought Harm with a sarcastic twist to his lips.

He pulled over to the side of the road, turning on his own emergency indicators so that anyone, crazy enough to drive around in such a weather, would see him and wouldn't ram him.

Just as he was getting ready to get out, he saw a movement out of the corner of his eyes.

Turning his head to the left he saw a figure get out of the Ford, hunched up in defence against the wind and the rain, turning briefly towards the car's doors, he assumed to lock them, and dash across the road towards the Vette. He left the headlights on so she wouldn't hit the front end in the dark.

Then Harm hurriedly turned in his seat to open the right side door and quickly fished out a duffel bag from behind his seat.

By the time he turned back around the right side door opened and in climbed a drenched Jennifer Coates, Yeoman of the JAG of the United States Navy, his neighbour and one of his best friends.

Even soaked through like a mouse, caught out in the field by a summer storm, she still took his breath away.

Hair wet and plastered to her head, the clothes soaked through and clinging to her body, lovingly accentuating her seductive womanly curves, red in the face from the cold and shivering like a car radio antenna in the wind, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He was thankful to his foresight in bringing with him a duffle with spare clothes for her to change into.

In her hands she held her coat, which she took off just before getting into the car and handed it to Harm, who took it and stuffed it into a plastic bag, which he brought along solely for this purpose.

Out of the duffle bag he handed her a towel, which she took with a grateful smile and proceeded to dry her hair and her clothes. While she was doing this he rummaged in the duffle bag again and took out one of his old, baggy sweatshirts, which he put on the dashboard for Jen to use.

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speaking from personal experience. I've seen SUVs, from big to small, dance all over the road when it was snowing, while my Chrysler Le Baron stuck to the road like it was nailed to it. I love that car.