/PRESENT/
"And the rest you know, sir. I mean, Harm." she finished her tale, flushing at the sound of his name rolling off her tongue.
Harm quickly glanced at her and then directed his concentration back to the road.
"I don't think your gearbox can be repaired, Jen. From what you've told me, it looks like a complete loss. Though I don't think it will be hard to find another one. Best deal would probably be some junkyard. Some of those wrecks still have fully functional parts. I know that, since I found quite a few parts for both of my Vettes at such places. And it's cheap too. We'll start looking tomorrow."
Jen made a sound, indicating she was listening to him, hiding the thrill that washed over her when she heard he would help her with her car. That also meant spending more precious off-duty time with him, because of which no one could cause trouble for them, since he would've been helping her fix her car. On the contrary, he was going to be unselfishly helping his co-worker retain her ability to go to work. A glass half full instead of half empty and legal loop-holes...
Harm continued.
"We will just have to arrange for a tow truck for your car tomorrow, I mean today. God, these early/late hours completely mess up my sense of time. Sometimes I wish I had Mac's internal clock. Uh, then again maybe not. It can't be fun to always know exactly how much time had passed. Especially if you are bored in the briefing."
Harm and Jen shared a little laugh at that, recognizing the truth in the words. Briefings could get a little dull. Or too intense, if the Admiral was in a bad mood ('It's a General now, no more Admiral Cheggwidden.' they had to remind themselves) and you wanted a false sense of security that it was almost over. At such times it was better being able to fool yourself that it will be over soon. An accurate internal clock would mean real torture. At that thought Harm felt sorry for his ex-partner, knowing that briefings were even harder on her because of her internal clock, harder than on anyone else. He also felt grateful he didn't understand Farsi when she explained to him how to have an internal clock of his own.
Yes, there is bliss in ignorance sometimes he concluded.
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Changing the topic back to lighter conversation, discussing how each of their days went, how Mattie was,... helped to make the drive much shorter and more pleasant.
They were near D.C. when a car came around the bend, rather quickly in Harm's opinion.
Harm himself was driving very carefully, fully aware that he had a passenger and that the Vette wasn't built for driving in such weather.
He slowed down even further, moving closer to the outer edge of the road, because he had a bad feeling about the incoming vehicle.
His gut instinct was proven right when the other car's rear wheels suddenly lost grip, while being only 5 meters away from them and it started fishtailing over the road.
Harm quickly reacted, driving onto the road's shoulder, but it was too late. The other car struck the Vette in it's left rear corner, the force of the hit causing the Vette's rear to bounce in the other direction, fishtailing also.
Harm quickly tried to get the tail under control, almost succeeding, when the Vette hit a patch of ice and all was lost. Harm lost control of the car, it started spinning, going sideways off the road and towards an old barn, that stood there.
Jen looked to where they were going and screamed in terror when she saw a long piece of wood sticking out of the barn's walls, aimed straight at them. She had no doubt what it would mean to have that wood penetrate the car's door on her side. Jen turned her eyes towards Harm, who in turn looked at her and in that fragment of a second they looked into each other's souls, seeing there the love they had for each other.
Harm, in the last attempt to protect her, somehow managed to make the car spin around once more. It had just completed the turn, when it hit the barn and the piece of wood went through Harm's doors like a hot knife through butter. A horrible, sickening sound of wood drilling into flesh and muscle was heard and then blackness.
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A family, who lived nearby, was woken up by the sounds of the crash and the twisting of metal. When they came to investigate, they were faced with the scene out of a nightmare.
A vintage red Corvette hit the barn's walls, going partially through them and having them collapse on the car. Inside the car were two people, obviously unconscious and trapped in the vehicle.
Police and ambulance were quickly called and the parents set out to secure and mark the site of the crash, after sending their children home.
The cops and the EMTs arrived quickly, escorted by the fire-fighters, who were armed with the metal-cutting tools, used for rescuing people trapped in cars.
They quickly set to work, cops putting up barricades, fire-fighters began cutting out the trapped passengers and the medics preparing for quick action.
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As Jen came to, the first thing she smelled was the leaking gas. Snapping out of the fog, she immediately opened her eyes to see the welcomed sight of emergency vehicles parked everywhere, with the red and blue lights flashing.
The two medics, who were taking care of her injuries, tried to get her attention.
"Ma'am, please hold still. We have to take care of your injuries and see if there are any more." Since she was awake they pointed a pen light in her eyes, checking for proper pupil dilation, looking for signs of a concussion. They were glad that no sings of it were found.
Jen caught sight of something out of the corner of her eyes. Something dark red.
She looked in that direction and gasped in horror.
It was not so much the state of the Vette that shocked her, it was more the state Harm was in as the fire-fighters pulled him out of the wreck. He had a laceration from where he hit the side window with his head, a neck brace to prevent any spinal injuries and there was blood all over him. But what shocked her most was the wound which was made by that piece of wood. The sight of it made her nauseous, she quickly leaned over the side of the gurney on which she was resting and proceded to vomit.
The medics quickly reached for her, concerned that she did have a concussion, but she just waved in Harm's direction and they immediately understood.
Turning back around she saw that the medics, who were working on Harm, were preparing to lift him into the back of the ambulance.
Jen forced herself to stand up, ignoring the medic's cries for her to stop and started towards Harm.
She was almost there when they caught up to her.
"Mrs. Rabb, you yourself are injured. You can't go with him. You need to let us see to your injuries."
Jen didn't bother correcting their assumption that she was married to Harm and turned towards them with a pleading look on her face, her eyes begging them to let her go.
"I'm going with him. Please, let me go with him! I promise I won't get in the way, I just need to be with him."
The medic hesitated a moment and then nodded.
"Okay, Mrs. Rabb, but you stay out of the way of the medic working on your husband. I'm going with you to take care of your wounds."
Jen was just about ready to concede to anything, just to go with Harm. She nodded and they both started running towards the other vehicle.
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