A Little Lower Than The Angels
Chapter 3
Disclaimers: As previously stated.
Spoilers: Anything up to and including 'Ice Queen' in Season 8 are fair game. The dates are different, but since this is a fictional fiction (smile) I just went with it.
1030
Tuesday
April 18, 2003
Thomas Residence
Baltimore, Maryland
Harm and Mac sat in the study of Mr. Thomas' home. His shelves were lined with books, a mahogany library table in front of the large window held framed photographs of his family. Harm thought he recognized the faces of the couple they had interviewed, just the day before, in the one of the myriad of pictures, placed haphazardly on across the top of the table.
They had taken the short flight up from Reagan International this morning. After this interview, they were only waiting for Mrs. Rowe's information. They would probably be finished before the Admirals stated deadline.
Mr. Thomas walked over to the bookcase and pulled what looked to be a thick scrapbook from one of the shelves. He carried it over to Mac and stood behind her chair. "Here, I have some pictures we've taken over the years, when we were able to get together. Ron sort of drafted me to be the historian of our little group, since I was the only college man."
Mac opened the cover which revealed thick black paper pages with pictures held in place with white cornered stickers. Harm was seated next to her on a separate chair and he leaned in more closely so that he could see as well. There was a picture of the USS Goodwill itself, and of the ships company. The nursing staff were pictured separately.
"Most of the first few pages were taken before any of us met Ron. Joanie provided them, here…that's her." He pointed to a picture of four nurses, "Joanie James, Beverly Trombatore, Jane Connors and Marianne Cavendish….the head nurse."
Mac smiled remembering Mrs. Graham said during their interview. "Mrs. Graham said your head nurse could be…difficult."
Mr. Thomas chuckled, "She was as you say…difficult, but in all fairness, she bore the brunt of our commanding officers ire most of the time."
"Commander Rayburn? I believe Mr. Graham called him…Bluebeard?" He had told Harm about the Commanders 'nickname' during their interview.
Mr. Thomas laughed in earnest, "Yes, it was a common nickname for him, but no one ever called him that to his face."
Mac turned another page and it held only one picture, it was of Beverly Trombatore, with a verse that was hand written on white parchment paper and taped beneath it. It read:
The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us and we see nothing but sand:
The angels come to visit us and we only know them when they are gone.
George Eliot
Mr. Thomas had become immediately serious, "That's Nurse Beverly, Joanie said this picture was taken just a month before she was killed." The young woman stood smiling for the camera, her hands clasped in front of her.
Mac looked at Harm who was studying the verse and the picture very intently. "Can you give us an account of the events of that day, Mr. Thomas?" The moment had become very solemn, so Mac thought it was time to focus on the details of their interview.
"I'll do the best I can; I was stationed aboard the Goodwill for the duration of the war, Nurse Ensign Trombatore, came aboard about a year after that. As for that day, I saw her go back to the ward during the attack on February 28th; I was helping evacuate patients to the upper decks. I saw Ron, Lieutenant Graham carrying her and I helped him, lay her down on the deck."
He shook his head, "She opened her eyes and looked at him and then over at all of us. I thought maybe…she would make it…but she died."
"I didn't speak with her outside of the course of our duties, until after Lieutenant Graham came aboard. I helped pass notes between them; I bent the rules a little bit." Mr. Thomas was quiet for a moment. "You have to understand things were very different then, open friendships between people of different races, didn't happen often, certainly not in that setting. Ron Graham was a rare one, he never spoke down to me, he even saw through my charade almost immediately."
"They told us they used to tease you about hiding your light under a bushel." Mac looked up at him.
Mr. Thomas nodded, "There wasn't much of a choice back then." His expression was pensive, then he seemed to shake the feeling away and smiled "Ron has become a good friend."
"Were you aware of his effort to have Nurse Ensign Trombatore considered for the Navy Cross?"
"No sir, I didn't know until you contacted me, I'm glad to hear it though. She did a brave thing, we all lived with the fear that those tanks would blow if the ship were to catch fire during an attack, if she had been a few minutes slower, they probably would have. We would have been sunk, I'm sure of it."
Mac turned another page and there were several pictures that appeared to be taken some years later. "When were these taken?"
"That was our first 'reunion.' After the war, we didn't see each other for over 10 years, and then out of the blue, Ron Graham calls me. Says, "Hey, how about we get together, swap lies about how successful we are?" Mr. Thomas laughed. "I didn't quite know what to make of it at first, but my wife and I met with them and the Rowe's in Washington DC, even Padre Chesborough came a couple of times."
Harm looked at the pictures of the younger Lieutenant Graham; trying to connect him to the older man he met yesterday. The one whose story had made him look a little harder at his life and appreciate what he had a little more.
Mr. Thomas seemed to slip deep into thought for a moment, then he stepped over to his bookshelf. "The Padre kept a journal, and when he passed away, his family sent it to me. They knew by then about my role as the Goodwill's historian." He slipped it out of the bookshelf and carried it over to them. He flipped through the pages until he came to the entry for February 28th, 1945. He read it aloud:
'We suffered heavy bombardment and kamikaze attack today, many wounded, 15 killed. Nurse Beverly Trombatore risked her life, securing oxygen in the hospital ward; she saved so many lives, but lost her own.'"
He closed the book and became quiet.
Harm and Mac looked at each other, and then Harm spoke to the older man. "Sir, if we may, we'd like to take this journal with us, it will provide more documentation of the gravity of Nurse Ensign Trombatore's actions, that day. We will see that it's returned to you."
"You may, I'm happy to do anything I can to help. I would like it back though, I intend to make it part of the archives, when the memorial is opened next year."
Harm and Mac finished their interview and in a short time were on their way back to DC.
1535
Tuesday
April 18, 2003
JAG Headquarters
Harm sat at his computer, beginning a rough draft of his report to Admiral Chegwidden. He would be recommending the Nurse Ensign for the Navy Cross. He had been skeptical in the beginning, but talking with the Grahams yesterday and Mr. Thomas this morning, left no doubt that what Nurse Ensign Trombatore had done that day was nothing short of heroic. Mac would be so pleased. He smiled to himself. It had been great to work with her again, to feel as though they were a team and not adversaries.
Just then Mac came to his open door and knocked on the frame. "Hey." She held a Fed Ex envelope in her hand. "Mrs. Rowe's letters arrived this afternoon; do you want to have a look?"
"Sure, I was just starting a rough draft. Have you started your report yet?"
. "Harm…" She smiled at him indulgently, "of course I have. Are you going to tell me what you've decided?"
Harm made a show of thinking about it, "I don't know, I think you should buy me dinner and then I'll tell you." He flashed her one of his most charming smiles.
She decided she would play and asked him, "So is this bribery…or a date?"
"I don't know, you tell me." He waggled his eyebrows at her, appearing totally unfazed by her question.
She nodded and then decided to see if he could take what he was dishing out. "Buy me dinner and I'll tell you." She turned on her heel and quickly walked out of his office, with her previously offered letters.
Harm's mouth dropped open, "Hey!" He stood and by the time he got to his doorway, he could see Mac fanning herself with her Fed Ex envelope as she walked through her office door. He made his way over to her. "I thought you were going to let me have a look at those letters."
Mac shrugged her shoulders, "don't know what to tell you." She smiled at him sweetly.
Harm put up both hands, "Okay, Japanese sound okay?"
"Great." She lifted the envelope and handed it to Harm.
As he took it he said. "At your place, 1800." He quickly left her office before she had a chance to contradict him.
She jumped up from her desk and tried to catch him before he slammed his office door, "Okay…but you're bringing it." She had said it just a bit too loudly and drew the attention of most of the people in the bullpen, including Admiral Chegwidden.
The Admiral approached her just as she realized how loud her voice was. "Problem Colonel?'
"No…sir."
"Are you and the Commander making progress with your investigation?" He folded his arms in front of his chest.
'Yes sir, we're both just finishing up."
"I see, I suggest that you finish up…a bit more quietly."
Mac felt the blush creep up her neck. "Yes sir."
Harm stood leaning against his desk, listening to the Admiral and Mac's conversation. He could keep the smug grin from his face.
He may not have won that round, but he could at least call it a draw.
1800
Tuesday
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown.
Mac opened her door to find Harm with his arms extended forward, holding their dinner in front of him. "I come in peace."
'Get in here" She laughed.
Harm walked into her living room, and placed their dinner on her dining room table. Mac had already set the table; she carried glasses with ice and a pitcher of tea on a tray, from her kitchen. "Is iced tea okay?"
"Great, this is nice Mac." Candles were lit on the table and the mantle.
As they had settled into their meal, Mac asked, "So, are you going to tell me?"
"You already know what I've decided."
Mac was quiet for a moment.
"You know, I think the admiral thought we'd have opposing opinions on the subject."
Harm nodded, "Probably, I included what my misgivings were in the beginning and I addressed, point by point, what changed my mind."
"What did change your mind?"
"A lot of things, but I have to say that Mr. Thomas convinced me completely. He really had the most objective opinion. He wasn't as close to Nurse Ensign Trombatore, as the Grahams were. He confirmed what they said, without the emotion. Chaplain Chesborough's journal was another concrete report that no one could dispute or count as pure sentiment."
"It's really strange isn't it? The Grahams I mean, they both loved her." She also thought it was strange that Harm, who led with his emotions, was discounting sentiment, but she decided she would keep that to herself.
"Not really, Ron Graham was only an acquaintance of Joanie James at that point. Beverly Trombatore and Joanie James were best friends."
"They seemed to be a really solid couple; Mrs. Graham said they'd been married 57 years. That's commitment."
Harm studied her for a moment; commitment was a deep subject, one he didn't think they were ready for. "Do you want to see what I've got so far?"
"Sure."
He took the folded rough draft from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to her.
Mac opened it and began to read, Harm watched her face, secretly pleased at the agreement he saw in her expression. Their conversation last night had gone a long way toward making him feel closer to her. He didn't think either of them were ready for a commitment at this moment, but they had to begin. Where did you begin to move beyond closeness and friendship and eventually to that place, he hope that they both wanted to be.
After Mac finished she handed it back to him, "It's perfect Harm, I wouldn't change a thing."
"Thanks, now let me see what you've got…..your rough draft I mean." Suddenly embarrassed at his choice of words.
"I knew what you meant Harm and you can have a look, it's not a rough draft though, and I'm finished." She chuckled, taking in the blush creeping up his neck.
"I should have known."
She stood and went to her desk, bringing back a file folder. She handed it to Harm and finished her dinner as he read.
When he finished, "This is scary Marine, were on the same page again."
"Don't get used to it." She teased. "Are you finished with your dinner?"
She stood and picked up her plate.
"Yeah, "She took his plate and as she left the room, he spoke, "You know, you never answered my question."
"What was that?" She called from the kitchen.
Harm waited till she returned to the room. "Whether this was bribery…or a date."
"That was my question."
"No, as I recall, I asked you what you thought it was."
Mac sat back down and folded her hands in front of her on the table. She was enjoying this, the teasing and the fun that had been missing from their conversation for so long. "Well Sailor, I think for this 'dinner' to be considered a date. I would have to have been asked."
Harm grinned at her mischievously, "I asked you to buy me dinner."
She shook her head, "Smooth, Harmon."
"I think so. So is this a date?"
Mac thought for a moment and then decided to try to clarify things. "I'm having a very nice time, with someone I like very much….whom I tricked into buying me dinner."
Harm put his rough draft report back into his jacket pocket.
Mac finished her statement. "So, it's not quite a date." She meant to reassure him that she was having a good time tonight, but that she wanted more.
Harm countered "But its not quite bribery either…is it?"
Mac looked away from him, suddenly shy. "I suppose not." 'Where are you going Harm?' she wondered.
Harm leaned forward resting his head on his hand. "So Mackenzie, what would make it a real date?'
Mac turned to look at him and was immediately drawn in by the playfulness of his expression and the light in his eyes. "Oh…I don't know, dinner, dancing…lights down low…"
Harm nodded in agreement and then stood to walk over to her sound system, turning the radio to his favorite fm station, causing soft jazz filling the room. He flipped off the lights in the living room and in one fluid movement took Mac by the hand and guided her away from the table.
He pulled her into his loose embrace. "Something like this?"
The candles that were lit on Mac's mantle and on her dining room table cast a soft glow in the room.
Mac answered "Mmm… something like this…but not quite."
Harm stroked her back lightly from the middle of her back down to the base of her spine, as though he were using his touch as well as his words to convince her that this dance was a very good idea. His touch was intimate, but not so much so that it seemed inappropriate…for a first date.
"Well Mac, even if this isn't quite a date…can I have at least one dance?" He looked down at her, raising his eyebrows in question, his smile melting her heart.
"I guess so, if you're nice, I might even let you have two." She lifted her arms and placed them around his neck.
"I could do that too, but you know, if we have more than two, this would definitely have to be considered a date." His voice became lower, making Mac lean her head toward him more closely to listen and in doing so made their dance just a bit more familiar than it would be if they were only 'friends.'
He pulled her more closely to him, resting one hand on her back and the other he rested on her arm, as though he wanted to keep her arms around him. He did not press her tightly too him, somehow, their bodies brushing lightly together seemed even more sweetly sensual. He was being very careful with her; she had never seen this side of him before. He was pulling her in, with what appeared to be no effort at all.
Harm waited for Mac to answer him, but she just relaxed more fully into his arms. This felt so right; he was kicking himself for waiting so long to begin this. Maybe this was the way to begin, with a dance, not the one that they had been doing for 7 years, this one drew them more closely together. This case had given him pause, made him look at his life and his time with the woman he cared about most. He didn't want to waste anymore time waiting.
As the second song began to play, they seemed to automatically move together more closely. Mac rested her head on his chin and he brushed his lips against her hair, taking in the scent of her shampoo. She felt so good in his arms, it would be so easy to stay there, but Harm had already decided something. Mac deserved a real date. A night out, so that he could treat her the way he always thought she should be.
"Mac?" Mac's soft breath on his neck was making it difficult to concentrate.
"Hmmm?"
"Since we're about to finish our second dance. I need to ask you something."
Mac lifted her head and looked at him. "Okay."
"Will you go out with me Friday night? Calisto's, dinner, dancing, lights down low?" As he looked down at her and waited for his answer, it occurred to him that she might say no, so without saying another word, he brushed his cheek affectionately against hers. He hoped to say with his actions that what he was asking wasn't a joke, that her answer meant everything to him.
Mac was pleasantly surprised and so touched that she could feel tears stinging at the backs of her eyes. She hid her emotions well and answered him."So…this isn't a date?"
Harm grinned from ear to ear, "Not quite."
Mac smiled at him, "I think that sounds like a good idea, but I have just one question. Does this mean that tonight was…bribery?"
Harm leaned down more closely until he was just inches from her face and looking down at her lips he said, "Not…quite."
He looked back up into her eyes, asking for permission. Mac's eyes were nearly closed and her lips parted. Permission was granted, so he kissed her full top lip, and then softly closed his lips over her bottom lip.
Mac could not keep from saying his name, "Harm"
He covered her mouth with his and gently coaxed her lips open, deepening the kiss. They stopped dancing and Mac responded, bringing her hands down to his face and then his chest. They both drank deeply, each loving the taste and feel of the other and just as things threatened to get out of control, they mutually broke the kiss.
They held each other close catching their breath, when Harm asked, "So…is that a yes?"
"Ye...yes."
They looked at each other and laughed, knowing they were both equally shaken by what just happened here.
Harm looked down at her again, "I should go." Things could get out of control so easily with her, he was only scratching the surface of what he felt for her, if he let go completely he was afraid he ruin everything.
"I know you should." She stroked his cheek with her palm.
"Friday?"
"Yes, Friday."
"But this is Tuesday; it's so long until Friday." Harm suddenly wished he had said Wednesday.
Mac smiled smugly, "Friday."
His kissed her quickly on the lips and then released her. "Okay, I should go." He took his jacket from the back of the chair and started for the door, knowing that if he didn't get out of here, he'd never leave, and he didn't want things to move too quickly with Mac. This was too important to him.
Mac followed him to the door. Harm turned back toward her after she opened it. As he stepped backward, he leaned toward her and stole another quick kiss and her lips felt so good on his, that he let them linger a little longer. Just as Harm reached for her, she broke the kiss. "Mmm Friday, Harm"
He stepped back giving her a look that hovered between sweet and smoldering. "Okay…bye."
He kept walking backward and Mac watched as she closed the door and whispered "Bye"
As Harm descended the steps he said aloud, "Friday."
When Mac closed the door to her apartment, she covered her lips with the tips of her fingers and said. "Friday."
TBC
