[A/N] I admire those fan fiction authors who were able to update their stories over the holidays. As for me...procrastination is an art form. Once again, I want to thank all of those who are taking the time to read my story. I read every review and consider them carefully.


Chapter 12
Spa Day

Monday, 12 October, 1998
0715 PDT
The Carlton Café
La Jolla, CA

It was a workday morning, so the Café was crowded, but Frank and Mac were seated promptly.

Kitty was at the table immediately. "Good morning, Frank. It's nice to see you again, Sarah. Coffee for both of you?"

"Black coffee for me," said Mac.

"Just water. I have a doctor's appointment this morning," said Frank.

"Then you'll want the usual doctor's breakfast."

Frank grimaced. "I'm afraid so."

Kitty grinned. "One order of Shredded Wheat with skim milk, and a sliced banana. What about you, Sarah?"

"For god sake Mac, order something good," Frank pleaded.

"Biscuits and gravy, with a side of sausage patties."

Frank gave Mac a thumbs up. "That will put hair on your chest."

"We're very busy right now, but I'll push your orders through," said Kitty.

Frank took a sip of his water. "Mac, with all that I've told you about our family this morning, I hope I'm not scaring you away."

"Far from it. I enjoy talking with you"

"Trish and Harm share a remarkable bond, so it's equally nice for me to have someone to confide in. Sometimes I feel like an outsider looking in on the Rabbs."

"You shouldn't feel that way. Trish has been married to you much longer than she was married to Harm Senior."

"That's true, but it's hard to compete with a memory. Maybe that's why I drone on with my stories. I suppose it will come in handy...when I'm a grandfather." Frank winked at Mac, who rolled her eyes.

"Not you too."

"I can't deny that I've thought about grand kids, and I know that Trish has. Trish will be a wonderful grandmother, but she needs the perfect daughter in law."

"I'm far from being perfect," Mac admitted. "If Trish knew the things that I've done as a kid, she wouldn't let me into her house to scrub her floors, much less consider my marrying her son."

"Each of us is more than the worst thing we've ever done. I honestly believe that."

"Frank, you are the sweetest and kindest man I've ever met. What could you have done to anyone?"

"The auto industry is dog eat dog. You don't climb to senior management without stepping on people. I made a lot of enemies along the way."

"I just hate the idea of my disappointing both of you. When I left JAG for private practice I disappointed Admiral Chegwidden. I only recently got back on the Admiral's good side...if he has one."

Frank laughed. "The reason that Trish has such high expectations is because Harm has never failed at anything, and he's excelled at everything. Harm captained his baseball and basketball teams, he was the valedictorian of his high school class, and he graduated fifth in his class at the Naval Academy. Harm was also at the top of his class in flight school and law school."

By now Mac knew that Frank considered Harm to be his own son. "You sound like a proud father."

"No man could have asked for a better son." Frank heaved a sigh. "I was a disappointment to my own father."

"With all that you've achieved, how can you say that?"

"My dad was a rugged man who enjoyed sports and the outdoors, neither of which I could participate in. With my heart condition, I couldn't even join the Boy Scouts."

"There is more to life than hiking and scouting."

"During World War Two, while all of my school friends were collecting scrap metal and rubber, I was a summer intern as an office assistant in the Office of Price Administration checking ration books for counterfeit coupons. My father served with pride in two world wars, but I couldn't even get into uniform. During Korea, I was in the Chrysler design bureau and working on the factory floor."

"Frank, even if you had been in the military you wouldn't have had a choice of duty assignments. I love the Corps, but Marines are never given a choice about anything...we just receive orders. Your father knew that."

"Other men my age did much more."

"Someone always does more. That's why they are awarded medals."

Kitty brought their breakfasts to the table and couldn't help but notice how relaxed Frank and Sarah were in each others company. She imagined her daughter Tina being married to Harmon Rabb, and sitting where Sarah was right now.

"So, Sarah, are you and Harm hitting it off?" Kitty asked Mac.

"Yes we are. Thank you for asking," Mac replied in a haughty tone.

Kitty refilled Mac's coffee cup and then left the table.

Mac dug into her breakfast. "The biscuits and gravy are very good."

Frank admired Mac's healthy appetite, and her love for the same sorts of comfort foods that he enjoyed. "Let the Rabb's have their fresh fruit and yogurt. There's nothing like starting off the day with a hearty breakfast." At the first spoon full of cereal, Frank he let out a groan. "This is no way to live."

What Frank had no way of knowing was that while Mac was growing up, a decent meal in the MacKenzie household was often hard to come by.

Sarah MacKenzie went into the kitchen and brewed a cup of motor-oil strength coffee. Breakfast? Who had time to cook, not that there was a thing in the house to eat.

Sarah had learned that when she wanted a meal she would let one of the boys at school buy lunch for her. Sarah would allow the boy to sit next to her and watch her eat; with him acting as though he had won some sort of contest.

Lunch was safe, but dinner? That was a risky proposition. Plenty of guys were asking Sarah out; but most expected her to sleep with them.

Sarah's life was complicated enough. She was a virgin, and she intended to stay one.

Sarah poured her coffee and then grabbed an energy bar from the pantry; peeling away the foil wrapper and discarded it without so much as taking a glance. Why bother to look at the label? All of the bars tasted the same. After all, how many sugar variations can fit into one small flat rectangle?

Joe MacKenzie staggered into the kitchen. "Give me some of that coffee." Joe took a sip from the cup and winced. "Your coffee tastes like crap. Make me breakfast before you go to school."

"Make breakfast out of what? Thin air. There isn't a dime left in the account, and your pension won't be deposited until Monday."

"What do we do for food?"

"You're asking me? You're the provider- so provide."

"Stuck up little tramp."

"Fend for yourself. I'm staying with Eddy this weekend." Eddie was Sarah's best friend, and her drinking buddy. Unfortunately their drinking had progressed from just enough to get through the rough spots in both of their lives, to becoming a part of their lives.

"Like hell you are. I forbid you to leave this house."

Sarah was no longer afraid of her father. "I come and go as I please. By noon you'll be so drunk that you won't remember this conversation."

"Go ahead and walk out on me, just like your worthless mother."

"You two deserved each other," Sarah spat.

"Don't take that tone with me. When Deanne found out she was pregnant, she begged me to stand by her and marry her."

"You're pathetic. When you were a platoon sergeant, your men must have thought that you were a joke."

"I have a Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal, a Purple Heart, and a Bronze Star with a Valor Device. I was a 4.0 Marine. The men in my platoon respected me."

"Noblesse oblige."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Someone must act in a fashion that conforms to the reputation that he has earned. Now do something useful and crawl back into bed."

It was the first time that Sarah had left the house with her father speechless. It was a small victory, but a series of small victories can win wars.

Frank looked across the table. "Are you okay, Mac?"

"Sure I am. Here, why don't you have one of my sausage patties." Mac slid her plate across the table and Frank helped himself.

"Promise you won't tell Trish?" Frank asked.

"You have my word."

"That's my girl."


Monday, 12 October, 1998
1115 EDT
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, VA

"Commander Rabb is on line two, sir," Tiner told the Admiral.

"It's good to hear from you, Harm. How are things in La Jolla?"

"Everything is fine, sir. Thank you for asking. I was wondering how things are going on your end?"

"Busy, but we're getting by." It was a lie. Even with Lt. Commanders Imes and Mattoni, and Lt. Bud Roberts stepping up by doing the work of a litigator and a Legalman, Chegwidden's personnel were stretched thin. "How did you mother take the news about your father?"

"The two of us have had some long talks. She's dealing with it quite well."

"Your mother is a strong woman. Be sure to give her my regards."

"Of course, sir. If you need me for anything, don't hesitate to call."

"Wrap things up as best you can. I want to see you and Mac at your desks first thing Monday morning...and ready to work." Chegwidden hung up the phone without waiting for a reply.

Even with the return of Rabb and MacKenzie, the office would remain understaffed. That was hardly news; JAG offices were understaffed from Bahrain to Yokosuka.

With little to no chance of finding an unassigned US naval officer, Chegwidden had to look elsewhere.

One possibility was the US Navy's Exchange Officer Program with its allies. Chegwidden had Tiner bring in the personnel files of foreign naval personnel who were offering their services to the US Navy.

The Admiral was glancing over the files when a Lt. Commander in the Royal Australian Navy caught his eye.

The man was a dual citizen of Australia and the United States, which meant he would be eligible for US security clearances. He had a law degree from Georgetown University, as well as three combat awards, including Conspicuous Service Cross, Australian Active Service Medal and a Kuwait Liberation Medal.

Chegwidden looked at the Commander's FITREPs and saw that his marks were mostly Excellent or Superior. There was a single low mark for military bearing and discipline, including a notation stating that the Commander tended to be outspoken.

That's not necessarily a bad thing, the Admiral thought. In any case, he can't be worse than Rabb.

The Commander had an impressive win to loss ratio in the courtroom, and that he had served as counsel on the South Pacific Peacekeeping Force during Operation Lagoon, which had been established during the Bougainville Civil War. He had also participated in the Truce Monitoring Group.

The situation in Iraq was heating up, so experience in international affairs could prove useful.

Under the 1991 Gulf War cease-fire resolution, Iraq pledged full compliance to UN inspections to determine whether the nation had destroyed its nuclear, biological, and ballistic weapons. Baghdad continued to impede inspections, finally putting a complete halt to them in Aug. 1998.

Chegwidden flipped through the pages to Commander's personal biography and liked what he saw. The Commander was former professional boxer with a record of 10-0-1 in the light heavyweight class...all wins by knockout.

Having an Australian on staff should make things even more interesting around here.

Chegwidden returned the file to Tiner. "Start the paperwork for Lieutenant Commander Michael Patrick Brumby, Royal Australian Navy, TDY to JAG."

"Aye aye, sir."

"Expedite it. I want Commander Brumby on staff before Thanksgiving Day."

"I'll see to it, sir."

"That will be all," and Chegwidden returned to his paperwork.


When Harm hung up the phone he felt as though a huge weight had been removed from his chest.

Calling Admiral Chegwidden had been a smart move. The Admiral would never call back, and Harm was under no obligation to call again.

One less thing to worry about.

Now Harm had to focus his attention onto Mac. He already knew where he'd be taking her tomorrow for their talk; a talk which was by now impossible to avoid.

The possibility of his eye surgery complicated matters even more.

No matter how his mother felt about keeping information from Mac; mentioning the surgery his desire to return to active flight status was out of the question. As for the rest of their conversation, Mac wasn't known for tossing softballs, but he'd beaten her in court and he could stand up to anything she could dish out.

No sense worrying about that now.

Harm reached for his phone and dialed the number of the Hotel Del Coronado. The hotel was located to the north of San Diego's Silver Strand, and had been a local landmark for over a century. During WWII, the hotel had housed naval aviators who were being trained at NAS North Island.

The tourist season was over, so there were ocean front suites available during the week. The ocean would be too cold for swimming, but the thought of Mac in a swimsuit was enticing, so Harm booked a suite near the main pool.

Harm had no sooner booked the hotel room when Mac and Frank returned home from their morning walk. The house suddenly erupted into a frenzy of activity while Frank prepared for his doctors appointment and Mac and Trish made ready for their spa day.

The house was large, but it seemed as though everyone was in each others way. It was times like this that Harm was thankful that he lived alone.

After what seemed an eternity, everyone departed, and Harm had the house to himself.


Monday, 12 October, 1998
1030 PDT
The Trimaran Spa
La Jolla, CA

The Trimaran Spa was located six blocks from Trish's art gallery. Although the spa's exterior was somewhat Moorish, and not unlike The Alhambra in Spain, its interior was Grecian; not elaborate or imposing, but it gave the feeling of being pampered.

The spa's amenities included a fitness center, whirlpool, relaxation lounge, sauna and a steam room, and the list of spa services was extensive.

Mac selected the 90 minute signature massage, followed by a sea mud facial, and a milk and honey body wrap. A pedicure and manicure, then a deep conditioning hair treatment with a style and blow dry would follow. Trish selected the anti aging facial treatment, full body mask, followed by a hot stone massage, along with the same hair and nail services.

Before Mac could reach for her wallet, Trish had paid for them both.

"I wish you would have let me pay," said Mac, who was feeling guilty about Trish and Frank paying for everything.

"Nonsense. I invited you," Trish insisted.

"Thank you very much. This is a beautiful spa."

"If you were to consider taking the position at the gallery, we might sneak over here during a long lunch hour. When I come here during the week I have to leave my phone in my office, otherwise Marianne will be calling me within ten minutes."

Mac gave an Trish understanding nod and the two ladies made their way to the changing room.

Midway through the signature massage, Mac realized that it had been several months since she had felt so relaxed. She found herself seriously considering a future spent in La Jolla.

This was the lifestyle on offer: dinners at exclusive restaurants, afternoons spent at the spa, and of course running an art gallery, which Mac knew would be running even smoother once she fired Marianne.

Mac loathed inefficiency; most of all in women. Mac felt that inefficient women dragged down all women by association.

But where would Harm fit into this grand plan? Harm was not going to leave the Navy to spend his days playing golf with Frank. Harm's degree from the Naval Academy was in aerospace engineering, which provided the basis for design and construction of aircraft and spacecraft.

Harm could certainly get a job with any aerospace firm, but that would open the door open to flying, which his law career had severely curtailed.

Harm at the controls of a high performance jet was something which Mac could never accept. The risks were simply too great.

I am not going to become an aviator's widow like Sarah Harmon Rabb, or Trish, or Annie Pendry.

By the time that Mac was in the milk and honey body wrap, she had realized that making a life in La Jolla was not a viable option.

After finishing their spa treatments, Mac and Trish met and the lounge and relaxed with mint tea.

"I am planning a surprise birthday party for Harm on Friday night," Trish said.

"That sounds like fun. Who is coming?"

"Just a few of our close friends. It will be a good chance for you to meet them. In the meantime, would there be enough time for you to invite your parents? I'd like to meet them."

Mac's heart skipped a beat.

Dear God, why not just throw me out of your house right now.

"I'm estranged from my parents. I haven't seen either of them in years."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Trish, who was clearly disappointed.

Mac felt as though she was under a microscope. Talking with Frank was easy, but talking with Trish always seemed a bit forced- like it sometimes was when talking with Harm.

"I'll be at the gallery on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Do you and Harm have anything in the works during the week?" Trish asked.

"We have plans for tomorrow morning. I suppose we can do something in San Diego on Friday."

"You might consider going to the Air Museum in Balboa Park. It is a nice museum, and it has an extensive collection of aircraft on display."

Mac gave Trish a quizzical look.

"Sarah, I am the mother of a naval aviator, and the widow of another. If you and Harm were to marry, at least one of your children will have the Rabb passion for flying."

"I don't want Harm to fly, and I don't want my children involved in aviation," Mac stated plainly.

Knowing that Harm hoped to return to active flight status, Trish wanted to change the subject. "Where are you and Harm going tomorrow?"

"I'm not certain, but we are going to sit down and discuss our relationship...such as it is."

"My son is like his father, which means you are going to have to be direct with your questions. Don't expect him to volunteer anything."

"I'd prefer not to treat Harm like a hostile witness during cross-examination. Besides, he knows my tactics for adducing evidence from witnesses in court."

"Just don't give him the chance to smile at you. The Rabb's most potent weapon is their smile."

"I experienced Harm's smile within five minutes of our first meeting, and numerous times since then. He uses it to advantage."

"As did his father." Trish looked at the clock on the wall. "We should get moving. Frank will be home by now, which means that the men are without supervision. Being men, they are apt to get into mischief. As a wife and a mother, and you being a significant-other, our duty is to prevent that from happening."

Until her arrival in La Jolla a few days ago, Mac had never suspected that there was another side to Harm's mother. Although kind and generous to a fault, Trish Burnett was a strong willed woman who wielded powerful influence over her son, as well her two husbands.

"Trish, I'm on board with you," said Mac.