A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 16/17

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the JAG characters; I don't own any product or label mentioned for the purposes of telling this story. Any similarities to situations or persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Spoilers: Any JAG episode up to and including A Tangled Webb II.

A/N: PFOD: Presumptive Finding of Death – KIA Killed in Action

The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be,

by the better angels of our nature

Abraham Lincoln

At his first Inaugural address

0945

Wednesday

May 11, 2003

Outside Bethesda Naval Hospital

Bethesda Maryland

Harm parked his Lexus in the lot adjacent to the hospital. He straightened his cover and walked toward the hospitals entrance, his carriage and demeanor giving away none of the anxiety he felt. As he approached the building, he noticed someone sitting on one of the benches on the well manicured grounds. Harm looked at his watch, seeing that he was 15 minutes early.

He refocused his attention on the man sitting on the bench; He was in uniform, looked to be in his mid 50's and was smoking a cigar. Harm had given them up years ago, but right at this moment wished to hell he hadn't. The man looked up as he approached and Harm noticed the gold wings above the ribbons on his uniform. For a split second, both officers felt an unspoken kinship and it put Harm more at ease, immediately.

He slowed his pace, deciding he'd just wait here for a few minutes, so that the wait at Captain Miles office wouldn't be so long.

Harm noticed too that he was approaching a Captain, so Harm saluted smartly, and the Captain returned his salute and told him to have a seat.

"Thank you sir."

Harm glanced at the Captains cigar, and in response the Captain asked, "Do you smoke, Commander?"

"No, sir, not anymore"

"Waiting for someone?"

"No, I'm just killing a few minutes; I have an appointment at 1000."

"I see"

"What did you fly?" Harm looked again at the gold wings and also noticed the medical insignia on the Captains collar.

"F 4's…Vietnam…a long time ago."

"You?"

"F 14's mostly, in both Gulf Wars, but I'm at JAG now."

The captain nodded and Harm's mind returned to the reason he was there this morning.

"Are you familiar with Captain Oliver Miles?"

A slow smile spread across the Captains face, "The name is vaguely familiar."

Harm was thoughtful for a moment, and under his breath, he said, "Oliver…. I thought Harmon was bad."

The Captain's smile grew even wider, this was his 1000 appointment. Commander Harmon Rabb. This was going to be interesting. "Pardon me, Commander?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm speaking my thoughts aloud today."

Harm was beginning to feel on edge again, he didn't want to go up, but he had to be sure he was on time. Who knew if this guy wasn't going to report directly to the Admiral?

"Excuse me sir, I'd better get to my appointment, I don't want to be late."

The Captain positioned himself in a way that Harm would not be able to see his name 'Miles' on his name tag.

"By your leave, sir." Harm came to attention and saluted.

He nodded, "Carry on, Commander," and watched Harm make his way toward the main entrance to the hospital.

0958

Wednesday

Captain Oliver Miles Office

Harm sat waiting in the empty outer office. Just as he stood to take a look outside in the hall, the Captain that he had been speaking with just a few minutes before walked into the room.

He walked directly up to the door of Captain Miles' office and used a key to open the door. Harm had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, wondering if the Captain had heard his comment on the unusual name…Oliver. This was just great, he thought.

He opened the office door and then turned toward him. "Commander Rabb, I'm Captain Miles. Why don't you come in, and take a seat? I'll be right with you."

In a few moments the Captain had settled into the chair behind his desk and Harm was sitting, uncomfortably, before him.

He opened a file and skimming over it, he told him "Admiral Chegwidden told me your service record read like a cross between 'Top Gun' and 'A Few Good Men' and he wasn't kidding."

"Yes, sir." Harm was still ill at ease, he didn't like this, and now since he'd made a bit of a crack about the Captains name, he felt even more uncomfortable.

"Relax, Commander. Today isn't the first time I've heard someone say that I had an unusual name, though I will say, I'll take Oliver over Harmon, any day."

Harm couldn't help chuckling and the tension level in the room dropped considerably.

"I've spoken to Admiral Chegwidden at length; first of all, I would like your take on why you think you're here."

Harm looked at him directly. He answered the Captain with one of his standard, 'take it any way you want' answers. "A lot of reasons…probably"

"Can you pinpoint one, right off the top of your head?"

"Well, I think the Admiral is concerned that I've taken a lot of risks lately, in my career. He is aware of my history, as I'm sure you are if you read my service record, and he thinks I have unresolved issues about my father." Harm was surprised at himself... that sounded good.

"Do you agree with him?"

"Not entirely."

"Why?"

"Because I had to resolve some issues, on my own."

He looked down at his notes, "You went to Vietnam to look for your father at 16?"

"I wasn't successful." 'Not that time' Harm thought. He knew he couldn't tell the Captain about Russia, it wasn't official in anyone's book, and he wasn't sure that the Captain wouldn't think he was crazy for believing what Harm knew to be true. His father had died in Russia and he was buried there, as other American POW's most likely had been.

"So the issue wasn't resolved, was it Commander?"

"I guess not, but I think I've come to terms with the…situation since then."

'Did you and your family receive a lot of support after your father was found to be MIA?"

"In the beginning, yes, but then as time went on, things changed. People became uncomfortable when my fathers name was mentioned. I was pretty young; I didn't understand back then how painful it was for Mom, and for Dad's friends and family. I just knew when I mentioned something about him; the room would suddenly become quiet. I felt as though I did something wrong." Harm hadn't been looking at the Captain, until he finished his statement, surprised that he'd said as much as he had.

"Did your Mom seek any kind of support group for you or for herself?'

Harm looked at him sharply, "No. We didn't need one, we were fine."

"Did you talk to your mother about how you felt about any of this, about your father's absence or what you told me earlier, the discomfort when you mentioned your father?"

"No, I didn't…I thought it was my job to make things as easy for my Mother as possible, that was one of the things my Dad told me to do,… and I remembered that to the letter."

"After your father's status was changed from MIA to KIA…"

"His status was not called KIA, it was called presumptive finding of death, even though the official position was that they couldn't rule out the possibility of American POW's being left behind." Harm answered quickly, with an edge to his voice, it still made him angry that his father went from an MIA to PFOD by an act of Congress.

"After his status changed, did you have problems remembering things about your father?"

"No…not really, my mother gave me some of the letter tapes he sent her while he was deployed. That helped me know him better."

"I'm talking about what you remember Commander."

"I remember….a lot of things. A Tiger cruise, I was only 5, but I remember it all. It was the first time I ever sat in the cockpit of a fighter. He took me fishing," Harm chuckled, "He tried to teach me to play baseball; I was never really good at it, Dad even tried to coach me on his letter tapes."

Captain Miles smiled, "You look more like the basketball type to me."

Harm nodded, "yeah, my height was an advantage and until I got over the awkward stage and learned to play well, it helped."

"Since you became an adult, have you contacted any of the MIA family support groups?"

"No, I never really felt the need, and to tell the truth, some of the groups were blatantly anti military and anti government. I didn't really fit that mold. I just wanted to know what happened to my father and bring him home. I got more support from individuals, veterans who served in the Vietnam War, than the organizations who claimed to speak for me or my mother."

The Captain raised his eyebrows, thinking that was pretty sad commentary, but unfortunately this was not the first time he'd heard that stated.

"Are you speaking of the individual who assisted you when you went to Vietnam on your own, that was a pretty gutsy move for a kid of 16."

"I suppose it was, but it was more about desperation for me. From the time Saigon fell and the last POW's came home, until I went with Stryker to Vietnam, something was just building up, inside. Every day that someone wasn't looking for my Dad, to me was a day he could have died waiting for someone to find him and bring him home."

"Did you feel as though your father was betrayed?"

"I don't know…No, I don't think so."

"Did you feel that your mother betrayed your father?'

"Is this where you ask me if I hate my Mother? The answer is no, I don't hate her, I realize, now, what she was dealing with."

"I didn't ask you if you hated her Commander, I asked you if you feel she betrayed your father."

Harm was thoughtful for a moment, "I never felt she betrayed him, I just don't think she understood… I know she had a really…tough time."

"How long did your mother wait to remarry?"

Harm stood up, without thinking and walked toward the window of the Captains office, then answered. "It was 1977."

"That is 8 years after your father went down, two years after Saigon fell...that's a long time….Did she date a lot before that time?"

Harm turned and looked at him sharply. "No."

The Captain looked at him steadily for a moment; the subject seemed to be a flashpoint so he decided he would push the subject.

"Do you get along well with your step father?"

"Yes, I do now; but I can't say I gave him much of a chance back then."

"Did you have a lot of disagreements with him, did you fight his authority?"

"I never 'fought' with Frank, I just wasn't comfortable…doing things with him. The things that should have been father - son things The only disagreement we had, the only time he was ever angry with me was when I ran off with Stryker to Vietnam."

Harm walked over to his chair and sat back down again, still lost in his own thoughts. He chuckled, "I really thought he was going to deck me. He kept asking me, over and over, do you know what you put your mother through? Do you know you could have been killed? He was so mad he was shaking."

"How about your Mom, what did she say?"

Harm dropped his gaze and sat forward and rested his forearms on his thighs, "She...uh, didn't really say anything. She just walked up to me, she was….crying, she slapped me…the first and only time she ever…."

Harm was silent…this was getting hard as hell to talk about. "It didn't really hurt me…" That had just been one of the worst days of his life. He'd never seen his mother like she was that day, not even the day they were notified his father was missing. He swallowed hard and continued. "After she did that…it was like she was as surprised as I was that she had done it. She threw her arms around me and continued to cry, she was almost hysterical." His face still burned with shame when he spoke of it. He saw his mother grieve his father, for years after he was MIA, but up to that day, he had only seen her cry in silence.

"Frank pulled her away from me and told me to go upstairs to my room. Mom didn't calm down for a long time." He sat up straight in his chair; the memory was still painful, more so than he thought it would be. He had sat on the side of his bed, with his hands over his ears, trying to stop the sound of her seemingly inconsolable sobbing.

"Was it a long time before you and your mother reconciled?"

"The next morning, Mom came down, while I was having breakfast, she sat down with me and apologized for slapping me. She wouldn't look at me at first and then when she did look at me, she told me never to do that again, and I promised her I wouldn't." Harm paused for a moment, "We never spoke of it again."

"Did you keep your promise?"

"While I lived at home with my mother and stepfather, I kept my promise. After I left for the Academy and flight school, my life was so busy that I didn't really pursue trying to find out what happened to my father for some time after. Though I did as much research as I could through the freedom of information act."

"I get the impression from your statement that you've done more than research since that time."

"You could say that. It was after I came to JAG, I was given access to some classified information that I did eventually pursue."

"Classified information?"

"With respect sir, I cannot divulge the sources or the details of the information I was given." Harm knew he had to be careful what he said, if he wasn't, he'd never get back in the air again, hell; they'd probably have processed him out of the Navy before he even knew what was happening.

Captain Miles sat back in his chair, contemplating what the Commander said. His statement was a bit too cryptic for his taste. "I see….Is Admiral Chegwidden aware of your access to this…. classified information?"

"Yes, sir….he is." He was strangely relieved that the Admiral did know. No one but Admiral Chegwidden would have kept the confidences that Harm required in this matter. Harm's career would have been over a long time ago.

"Did this information assist you in finding out what happened to your father?"

"Yes."

"But it hasn't given you complete closure?"

"I thought so, but apparently, my Commanding Officer doesn't agree."

"Do you trust Admiral Chegwidden's judgment, Commander?"

Harm was taken aback by the question and wondered if the Captain wasn't baiting him. "Yes…I do." 'I just don't always agree with him' he thought.

The Captain looked at the clock on the wall, "Before we finish here Commander, I think it is important to clarify a few things. First, I want to assure you that the reasoning behind your commanding officers insistence on your counseling, was not about his having doubts about your ability to perform your duties at JAG. However, it is clear to me that there are some unresolved issues that should be dealt with so that you can continue your career, without fear of those issues spilling over into your every day life."

He continued, "There are a number of published studies of adult children of MIA's. For the record Commander Rabb, your response to the loss of your father is mild compared to many children of MIA's. Many family members remain in a kind of limbo, unable to get on with their lives, in any meaningful way. While it appears that your methods are somewhat unorthodox, you have accomplished a great deal in your naval career."

"Thank you, sir" Harm grinned sheepishly; the Captain had to be thinking about his colorful service record.

"We will start by seeing you twice weekly Commander." He handed him a card with the number to his appointment desk. "Make an appointment for early next week, Monday or Tuesday will be fine."

He stood, smiling at the relief he could see on the Commanders face that the appointment was over. "It wasn't as bad as you thought it would be, was it?'

Harm couldn't help returning his smile, "No, sir, it wasn't."

They both turned to walk toward the door, when the Captain remembered something; he turned and took a book off of his desk. It was a small thin paperback book, titled 'Adult Children of MIA's A Study of Grief, Interrupted.' "You will have homework." He handed him the book and Harm frowned as he read the title.

"Read it Commander, be prepared to tell me where you see yourself in this study or, if you don't…. I want to know why."

Harm was standing in the doorway; frowning at the title of book he had been given. The Captain was leaning on the open door, "See you next week Commander Rabb."

He looked up at him and answered, "Yes, sir."

He turned and made his way out of the office. It was 1100, it was tempting to see if Mac would be available for lunch, but he knew it would be smarter to just go home, and get things ready for their dinner tonight.

1830

Wednesday

Harm's apartment

North of Union Station

Mac arrived promptly at 1830, looking beautiful in the simplest of clothes. Her jeans were comfortably worn, and a simple cotton v neck sweater, the color of her eyes made her skin look warm, touchable and delicious.

Harm greeted her at the door, lightly caressing her arm and kissing her cheek. "Come in, it's almost ready."

Mac looked up at him, thinking he looked handsome as always, in jeans and the grey pullover she loved, but he looked so tired…and troubled. "Smells great," she followed him in and to the opposite side of the kitchen island. She wanted so badly to ask how his appointment had gone, or why he looked so sad, but she knew better than to ask now. So she began with a nice generic question. "What's on the menu?"

"Bowtie pasta, with pesto sauce and sun dried tomatoes. I included some grilled chicken for you, so you won't be hungry in an hour." Harm gave her a knowing smile.

"You made the grilled chicken, just for me?"

"Consider it a peace offering."

"Offering accepted."

Their eyes locked and for a moment Harm was tempted to walk around the kitchen island and take her in his arms, dinner be damned, but given the fight they'd had avoiding this conversation, he thought better of it.

"Come on, help me get this on the table and we can get started."

After they had settled into their dinner Harm asked, "How did your day go?"

"It was okay, my case load is still pretty light, but I'm hoping that will change next week."

Mac suspected that the Admiral was keeping her caseload light for a purpose, thinking she might need time to adjust after her return from Paraguay. To her mind, it couldn't be farther from the truth. She wanted to be busy, the busier the better.

"What about you?" she asked. It seemed a natural question, given the direction of the conversation.

Harm looked at her and then down at his plate. He put his fork down and placed his hands on both sides of his plate. He pressed his lips together, his expression becoming serious.

"Harm, I'm not trying to pressure you…you don't have to talk about anything you don't want to."

He turned toward her again, "I know, it wasn't easy….the appointment, I mean. But…it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

Mac let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "That's good. That's great."

"Yeah…" He placed his hand over hers and grinned "I think I was expecting a little man with a white lab coat and glasses pushed down on his nose."

Mac laughed out loud at that, almost too loud, she was so afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing. Their fight had frightened her, more than she had realized.

Harm gave her hand a squeeze, "Mac, its going to be okay, for both of us."

Mac nodded because her heart was too full to allow her to speak.

"Let's finish up, and then we can talk."

"Okay."

After they finished Harm made coffee and they filled two large mugs full of the warm and comforting brew. They walked into the living room and sat down in the middle of the couch, turned so that they were facing each other.

Mac couldn't keep from studying his face, she knew he noticed but she couldn't seem to stop herself. This was Harm, and he was hurting and she wanted to know why. Harm was quiet, seeming to be pondering what he would say, after a time he sat his coffee cup down and looked up at her.

"Mac, do you know one of the reasons…that I love you?"

The sincerity in his eyes and the frankness of his question nearly took her breath away. "I would love to hear you tell me." She leaned across and sat her coffee cup on the table.

He reached for her arm and closed his fingers around her slender forearm. Seeming to concentrate on her skin and his thumb as it traced back and forth on the under side of her arm, he began. "Because there are things….that you know about me…that I don't have to explain."

Mac listened but didn't quite understand. Harm seemed to sense her confusion and continued, "You know about my father, you were there when I found out about what really happened, about my ramp strike….about what Sergei means to me."

He looked up into her eyes as they filled with tears. He reached to dry them, "Hey…"

She grasped his wrist, "Sometimes I think I'd have given anything not to have been the one…..to tell you about your father. I felt as though I took your hope away."

"Mac…" He pulled her into his arms.

"I won't ever forget it; it was like I saw the hope that had always been there, in your expression and your eyes….die."

He kissed her hair, 'Mac, I'm glad you were there." He stroked her back. "You were kind to me, but you gave me my space. That's what I meant, you know me, you knew what I needed then."

She sat back up and looked at him, knowing she had gotten him off track. "I'm sorry, go on."

He brushed her hair back from her face, closing his fingers around the strands, seeming to focus on them as he spoke. "What I'm trying to say is…Mac…..I've never been the kind of man that could just…bare my soul to someone, even someone that I love….as much as I love you."

He looked into her eyes, "But, it doesn't mean that I don't trust you or that I don't care. Do you understand?"

Mac nodded but was beginning to feel bewildered.

Harm grinned at her, surprised that she was being so quiet. "You're making this much too easy for me tonight Mackenzie."

Mac cleared her throat. "Okay…so, you love me because… because I already know so many things about you that you don't have to talk to me?"

She was still wiping her tears when Harm looked at her incredulously, "What?'

It just dawned on Mac how silly that statement sounded, so she laughed though she still had tears running down her face. "I'm sorry Harm, you're being so sweet and wonderful, but you are confusing the hell out of me." Mac wiped her tears away, with both hands, "I can't believe how emotional I am."

He pulled her back into his arms, "its okay, let me try again. There are things you know and understand about my life that I could never explain to anyone else. I love you because you never ran away from them…or from me. I brought along a lot of baggage, some women might have walked away." 'Some did,' Harm thought.

She continued to rest against his chest, trying to calm herself and loving him for every word he was saying.

Eventually, Mac slipped back out of his arms but held on to his hand. "I know, I feel the same way about you." She stroked the back of his hand. "I always loved and appreciated what you knew about my life, that you were interested and cared about the decisions I made." She gave him a watery smile, "I love that you know when I'm avoiding something, even when it makes me furious." She wiped another tear away and asked, "Harm what are we going to do about this….about the counseling we both seem to hate, about issues we both don't want to talk about?"

"I've been thinking about that a lot, in fact, that was all I did last night, because I sure as hell wasn't sleeping."

"And?"

"Ground rules….I think its going to have to be okay, especially while we're going through this counseling, not to talk about it after, unless we want to."

Mac felt a relief she didn't expect, it was such a simple solution. She nodded, "I like that idea."

"Okay…the next thing we need to discuss…or decide, Mac…I don't want to make assumptions, I know we both have a lot to deal with, but…I still need to….know where you are. When we're not working I'd….like to spend as much time together as we can." Harm looked into her eyes, unsure of how she might react. "I've never been this way before. I thought it might be because I almost lost you in Paraguay, but now I'm not so sure."

Mac grinned, "So you can't resist me…huh Sailor?"

"Hey, don't rub it in…" He narrowed his gaze, feigning irritation.

"I don't have a problem with that Harm, as a matter of fact, I like it…a lot"

She leaned in and kissed him, playfully before she continued.

"And you know, our jobs will take us away from each other, some of the time….I don't think we'll be assigned anything together, now that the Admiral knows about us. If you're concerned about giving each other space right now, I think we should just take one day at a time. Be together when we can, but if one or the other of us needs time alone, then we should be able to do that."

Harm closed his arms around her, nearly pulling her into his lap. "Separate assignments are probably a really good idea, because I'm really having a hard time….keeping my hands off of you."

Mac arched a brow and grinned mischievously. "Because I'm addictive."

He narrowed his eyes and looked down at her lips, "you are Mac, I can shut everything out when I'm here with you like this…I have never been able to do that…with anyone." He tasted her lips and then turned his head slightly to the side, so he could kiss her more deeply.

Mac was beginning to lose herself in his kiss, giving herself over to the passion Harm always brought out in her, when a question occurred to her. She broke the kiss with a smile and Harm asked, "What?"

"I was just going to ask you…..how do you feel about that….Sailor?" She waggled her eyebrows at him, mimicking the cliché question associated with their dreaded counseling sessions and they both broke out into laughter. They needed to laugh, to pull themselves out of the stark seriousness of the last weeks and thumb their noses at it all.

"Oh…not funny Mackenzie." He spoke into her ear, still chuckling as his attention turned back to the task at hand.

"You laughed."

He pulled astride him, "I did." He began kissing her neck, brushing his lips softly over the sensitive skin. "Do you really want to know how I….feel, Mac?"

She arched her back slightly; the magic Harm was making was causing her voice to waver. "You know….I really do."

Harm turned her onto her back in one fluid motion, "Mmm that's good," he linked his fingers with hers, "Because…you're about to find out."

They met each other in the middle and allowed their passions to play out. There wasn't a need for anymore words tonight, though their communication did stop… until deep into the night.

TBC

A/N: I'll be winding this up in another chapter, with work already begun on a second part to this story. The turn I want to take will take quite a few more chapters and I want to be able to make this as easy to keep up with as possible. Thanks to everyone who has hung in there with me.