8

Harm's SUV pulled out of the Kresge Health Centre's parking lot and merged with the traffic headed back towards DC. A couple of minutes into the drive on the Curtis Memorial Parkway, Harm glanced across at a silent Catherine, who seemed to be deep in thought. "You OK there?"

"H'mm? Yeah. Fine. I was just thinking…"

"About your mom? I thought she looked tired today… I worry sometimes that I wear her out."

Catherine smiled at that, "No… you're a tonic for her. Honestly Harm, she's so much livelier, so much more interested in life since she met you."

"H'mm, are you sure that it's not Elizabeth, that's making her that way?"

"Oh, I'm sure that's got something to do with it… " Catherine agreed with a smile that Harm could sense, but not turn his head to see, "but if it wasn't you for being here, it would only make her worry the more…"

"Uh-huh, but you're still worrying about her?"

"No… well, yes, of course. But that's not the bug up my ass at the moment. I was thinking about young Mattie… Look, I know I'm supposed to cook this evening, but…"

"No, no you're not. You made the picnic, remember?"

"Yeah, OK, whatever. But can we go to your place? I want to check something and talk to you…"

"You sure? You don't want just to go straight home? I mean, I thought you'd be tired…"

"Yesterday, you dragged me around half the homes in Northern Virginia. Yesterday I was tired. Today, all I've really done is sit on my ass. Today, I am not tired. Well… no more than to be expected," she finished with a chuckle.

Harm grinned, "Your wish is my command, mistress."

Catherine sat back and allowed herself to be diverted for a few moments from thinking about Mattie. 'You wish is my command, huh?' she thought. 'Oh, Harm if you really knew what my wishes about you involved, you'd probably run a mile! I mean, I knew being pregnant would make me moody, I knew about morning sickness, and the back ache and the swollen ankles and tired feet, and not being able to reach down and tie up my shoes, what I didn't know about being pregnant as that it was going to make me as horny as hell! And you are just so damn cute and handsome! Dammit! With that smile I'd probably be willing… if even I wasn't pregnant - and that might be easier, if I wasn't pregnant, if I wasn't so fat. C'mon Catherine Mary Gale, get a grip on yourself - it's not as if he's even going to look at you right now!'

Catherine had been so immersed in her thoughts that it was with some surprise that she realised that they had arrived back outside Harm's apartment in what seemed to be a very short time indeed. Harm hesitated before he turned off the ignition, "Are you sure you want to face that elevator again?"

Catherine managed a weak smile, it wasn't her favourite place in the world she wryly admitted to herself, "Well, as long as you live here, I'm going to have to face it aren't I? I don't quite see myself tackling three flights of stairs, well, not for the foreseeable future anyway!"

Harm smiled in sympathy. He had vivid recollections of having to carry a new bookcase up those stairs when, on the day he'd bought it, the elevator had thrown a hissy-fit and decided that it wasn't going to work. There were times when he was convinced that the elevator was haunted by a vengeful spirit who knew exactly when a malfunction would cause the greatest inconvenience, effort and pain.

"Well, at least it's only us. We can leave the rest of the stuff in the car until you're ready for me to take you home. And," he added with heavy emphasis, "tomorrow I'm going to call the realtor and make an offer on that house in Vienna. So with any luck, neither of us will have to contend with the damn elevator for much longer!"

Fortunately, on this occasion the damned elevator, or its guiding spirit, decided to co-operate, and apart from one series of alarming judders as it rose to the second floor, it behaved itself, coming to rest with its normal noisy groan just an inch or so short of the floor level on the third floor.

Letting them into the apartment, Harm prepared Catherine's nest of cushions on the couch, but raised his eyebrows in mild surprised, when she indicated his PC on the desk at the end of the living area, "May I? I did say I wanted to check a couple of things out?"

"Sure, go ahead… I'm told by people who know about these things that it's a bit on the slow side, but hey, it does what I want it to…"

Catherine smiled, Harm's was the usual response of the Luddite dragged kicking and screaming into the computer age, although she suspected that his attitude was partly a front and that he was far more computer savvy than he let on, and his suspicion of them was due to a dislike of the technology rather than an inability to use it.

While she settled herself at the computer, Harm moved into the kitchen area and busied himself with pots and pans, "Dinner in about half-an-hour, Catherine?"

"Oh, yes - great, thanks."

Harm grinned, he had heard that abstracted, preoccupied tone of voice before, usually from Bud Roberts as the younger man settled down for a long session in front the PC. It was beyond Harm how these people did it, after about twenty minutes in front of the screen, his eyes ached and he'd had enough. How the hell RIOs coped with all the screens they were constantly switching between and kept some sort of spatial awareness he had no idea. As far as he was concerned, the RIO had the most difficult and thankless job, while all he had to do was fly the airplane. And got all the credit, he acknowledged with a twinge of guilt.

Looking at Catherine as she became absorbed in her self-imposed task, Harm contented himself with preparing the meal and then making two mugs of raspberry and rose-hip tea. By the time he carried them over to the computer Catherine had covered half a sheet of a legal pad with notes, and had a faintly concerned frown on her face.

"Hey, take a break girl, I don't want the tea to get cold, and I don't want to put it on the desk… please?"

Catherine smiled, "Of course not…" she held out her hands so that he could help her to her feet and then waddled over to the sofa, "You got my cushions ready for me…" she said with a teasing glint in her eye, "Aw… shucks… But come and sit down, and I'll tell you what I've found so far…"

Harm sat beside her, and passed her one of the mugs of tea, which Catherine balanced precariously on the couch arm while she ran down the notes she had made. Satisfied they were in order she picked up the mug and took a sip before she spoke.

"OK, I've been looking up Grace Aviation and Crop Dusting. The legal owner is Mathilda Grace Johnson - Mattie, I assume - but because she's a minor her father, Thomas Johnson, has enduring power of attorney. A quick look at the company books on line shows that it is on the verge of going under, due primarily to having repay a loan taken out six months ago by Mr Johnson, as well as the outstanding mortgage on a house, which is also listed as a company asset. The loan is being met - just, as is the mortgage, but reading between the lines, it appears that there are several other recurring bills that the company is having problems meeting. Looking at Grace Aviation's legal notices, the local power company has filed for a lien on Grace Aviation's profits in order for outstanding bills to be paid, and the county is filing for payment of unpaid taxes - both business and residential. Harm, unless something is done, that girl is on the verge of losing her business and her home…. The other point, Harm, is that in the listing of company officers, there is no mention of legal representation…"

"So…?"

"So that means, with the power company and the county filing legal claims against the company, then Mattie's father is trying to deal with them without legal representation…"

Harm frowned, he thought he could see where this was going, but rather than jump to conclusions, he considered for a moment, "What's your point, Catherine?"

"Well, you're a member of the Virginia State Bar, aren't you? You could sort of… step in and help, and you'd do it pro bono, too."

"Catherine I would if I could… but I'm a litigator, a criminal lawyer… I don't know enough about civil law…"

"M'mm… maybe. But you did damn good on the Angelshark case, and you've pursued torts before, haven't you?"

"Yeah, but that was against other navy lawyers, and you…" he smiled at her, "but going against the sorts of lawyers the utilities companies and banks retain… Oh, don't get me wrong… I want to help, I'd like to help. I just don't know if I can…"

Catherine looked at him with an encouraging smile, "You can do it, Harm. I know you can…" But she was troubled, 'What the hell's happened here. Last year, with the Angelshark, he was convinced that he could take on and beat the world. What the hell have Sarah MacKenzie, the Admiral, Webb and the CIA done to him?' she thought.

"I wish I was as sure…" he grinned hopefully at Catherine, "but what about you? The work you do for the Company is more like civil law than litigation anyway…?"

"Oh, Harm! Of course I'll help. But… I thought maybe as you have a closer connection to Mattie that it wouldn't seem quite so… that you weren't…"

"Just an interfering busybody?"

Catherine chuckled, "Not the words I'd have used, but yes, in essence!"

Harm nodded thoughtfully, certainly, if Catherine was right, someone needed to act, and act quickly to prevent Mattie from losing her company… "Catherine, did you say that the house was listed as a company asset?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, if the company goes under, then Mattie will lose her home as well as her company?"

"Well… yes… I should think so…"

"OK. I say let's do it!"

"Yes?"

"Yes! The two of us should be able to apply sufficient brainpower to figure a way to get Mattie out of the hole she's in." Harm thought for a moment more, "That list of company officers and appointments, does it show a CPA?"

"H'mm… wait, wait… Yes. Charles Brewer, Charlottesville." Looks like whoever selected him went for location as the main criterion.

Harm smiled grimly, "Well, who'd have thought that a CPA and a house could have so much in common…"

Catherine looked up, a blank expression on her face, "Huh?"

"Well, that's a highly articulate response, Miss Gale," Harm teased her, enjoying the colour mounting to her cheeks, "I meant a CPA and house having in common: location, location, location…"

Catherine fanned herself with the papers she held. She didn't quite know whether to laugh or be furious with Harm and/or herself; him for his teasing, or her for firstly missing the obvious link and secondly for blushing.

Harm relented, "It's OK, Catherine… just a little bit of payback for the hard time you and Mattie gave me this afternoon."

Catherine gulped, "A little bit? You mean there's more to come?"

"No… I'm magnanimous enough to be content with what I've achieved." Besides, I do not want to turn this into a war of attrition, "Well, as far as you're concerned, anyway," he assured her, "Miss Johnson on the other hand…"

"Harm! You cannot possibly be so petty and immature as to look for revenge on a high school kid!"

"Revenge?" Harm's eyebrows shot to the top of his forehead, "That's a bit melodramatic, Catherine. I'd prefer to think of it as payback - and yes, I can be that immature! After all, it's not so very long ago that someone called me Peter Pan!"

Catherine looked at him carefully at that. Yes, he was smiling, well, his mouth was; on this occasion the smile didn't seem to have reached his eyes, and there had definitely been a bitter edge to his tone. It was almost as if he was conflicted, but whether over the name or who had called him it she hadn't got the faintest idea.

Despite her misgivings, Catherine smiled back at him, "Well, if that's the case, I'd say watch your step! I have a feeling that Mattie might just prove to be a more than worthy opponent!"

This time Harm's smile was genuine, "Yeah, she's quite something isn't she!"

Catherine nodded, content to see the change in his mood. Before she had consented to his wild plan, she'd always thought of him as stoic, unemotional and unable to express himself, but as she'd got to know him she realised that he could be quite mercurial, and that if someone looked closely, at his eyes, not just at his face, then his emotions could be quite clearly read.

"So, now we've decided that we are going to be involved, how about that dinner you promised me?"

Harm looked at her quizzically, "After that huge picnic, you're still hungry?"

"Yep, and getting hungrier by the minute." She stroked her bump and smiled gently up at him, "After all, I am eating…"

"For two!" he finished for her. "Alright then, I'll get started on dinner." He looked at her thoughtfully. "In the meantime, you stay where you are and see if you can come up with some sort of plan to help Mattie."

"But…"

He held up a finger to stall her, "And I'll be doing the same while I'm preparing dinner!"

x-x-x-x-x

Harm yawned as he lay back on the pillow and linked his fingers behind his head. He was tired but his brain was whirling after all that had happened today - no, he corrected himself - more accurately what had happened this evening, and sleep was being elusive. He'd been glad enough that Catherine had seemed to hit it off with Mattie, and had seen that she was little more than a child, albeit a remarkably mature child considering her few years, and equally pleased that Mattie seemed to like Catherine.

What he hadn't expected was Catherine divining that something was way wrong with the set up at Charlottesville, especially when he hadn't - he must have been flying round there with eyes shut - and then her decision to leap in at the deep end and her determination that whatever was broken needed to be fixed. Then there had been dinner and its aftermath…

Despite his concerns he was forced to smile. He'd cooked, they'd eaten, he'd cleaned up and made tea and then he had sat with Catherine on the couch. What a wonderful piece of furniture that couch was turning out to be. They'd drunk their tea while discussing how best to sort out the situation at Charlottesville, and at one stage as their heads were bent over Catherine's notebook, they'd turned, almost as if by arrangement, to look at each other, their mouths had been inches apart, and then they'd kissed. This wasn't a formal, good morning, goodbye, or goodnight kiss. This was a soft but passionate kiss, a real kiss. And the next thing he'd known it was an hour and a half later, they both had mussed hair, bruised lips and a slightly glazed look in their eyes. They had been making out on the couch like a couple of teenagers, but with the added bonus that neither of them had parents that were likely to interrupt their session.

"Oh… wow…" had been his highly articulate comment.

"Yeah…" Catherine had been as equally eloquent.

"Ummm… where do we go from here?" His tone had been half hopeful, half fearful.

Catherine fought down her nearly overwhelming urge to just say 'bed', but she had caught the hesitation in his tone and fell silent for a moment or two.

Eventually, she cleared her throat, "Look, we talked about having a baby, or babies together at some time in the future, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"And I assume that you'd be wanting to make those babies the way Mother Nature intended?"

"Uh-huh…"

"Yeah, me too… but…"

"Yeah, but…"

"Harm, even if I wasn't pregnant, I don't think tonight would be the right time to practice baby… No the hell with it let's just call a spade a spade. Harm, as much as I might want to make love with you tonight, I just don't think we're quite ready to take that step. Not just yet."

Harm was conscious of a feeling of relief mixed with disappointment. "No, you're right. We're not there yet." Then he smiled gently, looking deep into her eyes, "But we will be… one day."

"Oh, yes, we will," Catherine agreed, her voice little more than a throaty whisper, as she smiled back at him.

Harm leaned in for one more gentle kiss, which she gladly returned, before he sat back and raised his arm, allowing her to snuggle into him, her head in the hollow of his shoulder. He dropped a further gentle kiss on to the crown of her head, "M'mm, vanilla…" he smiled, "that's fast becoming one of my favourite flavours…"

"H'mmm…"

Several minutes passed while Catherine was day-dreaming of the house in Vienna, the back yard filled - well not filled - but occupied with her and Harm's children playing peacefully together, while he and she kept a watchful eye over them from the sun deck.

Her reverie was interrupted by Harm's question, "What do you think about Patricia?"

Catherine craned her head back so she could look up at him, a puzzled frown furrowing her brow, "Patricia? Who's she?"

"My mom. What I meant was what do you think of Patricia as a middle name for our daughter?"

"H'mmm… Elizabeth Patricia Rabb…" Catherine said, trying the sound of the name. "Yeah, I like it… but what will your mom say?" She also liked the way he'd said 'our daughter' - for the second time today.

"She'll be delighted, Catherine, and… it would make me very happy too. Besides, there's no guarantee," he added diffidently, "that even if we do have other children, that there will be another daughter to be named after mom…" his eyes pleaded with her.

Catherine thought for a few minutes, holding up a minatory finger when it looked as if Harm was about to say something more. She had nothing against the name, it sounded well with Elizabeth, she hadn't been able to come up with a satisfactory middle name by herself, and… his mom had been great when they'd spoken on the 'phone, well once she'd gotten over her shock, and it would make him 'very happy' too.

"Yeah, I think I like it too, she said slowly, nodding her head for emphasis, "Yes! I do like it. Elizabeth Patricia Rabb, she shall be!"

They had relapsed into silence once more. Harm hadn't said thank you; he hadn't need to. The look in his eyes said it all for him. Catherine relaxed against his shoulder again, content that she'd pleased him so much with her decision. At length though she sighed, "If I'm not going to stay the night, Harm, I guess it's time I went home…"

"Yeah, I guess…" He disengaged his arm from where it was draped very comfortably, and protectively around her shoulder and got to his feet ready to help her out of the depths of the couch. Once she was safely upright, Harm helped her into her jacket, and making sure the apartment was secure they gave each other a lopsided wry grin as he pressed the elevator 'Call' button and waited until it groaned its way from the ground floor.

Twenty minutes later, he switched off the ignition and helped her down from the SUV, before collecting her gear from the SUV's trunk and walking her up to her apartment, where they shared one last goodnight kiss, before she stepped back into her living room, Harm waiting until he heard the deadbolt snick into place before he headed for home and bed.

x-x-x-x-x

Catherine smiled as she heard his footsteps fade down the hallway and sighed happily. Today had been a great day, but she was tired, it had on some levels been quite an emotional day. She was beginning to learn Harmon Rabb, and to interpret his feelings from his eyes. How come Sarah MacKenzie, for all she was supposed to have been in love with him for all those years, had failed to figure that out? She shook her head in bewilderment as turned on the radio and headed for the bathroom. She had her sweater half off, over her head when the song on the radio changed, and the gentle voice of Alison Krauss filled the apartment. Catherine felt sudden tears prick her eyes as the absolute appropriateness of the lyrics to her thoughts came to her ears.

The smile on your face lets me know that you need me
There's a truth in your eyes sayin' you'll never leave me
The touch of your hand says you'll catch me if ever I fall
You say it best when you say nothing at all
You say it best, when you say nothing at all

x-x-x-x-x

A J Chegwidden barely acknowledged the cry of "Admiral on deck!" as he entered the bull pen at just shy of oh seven forty hours, laving, uncharacteristically of him, his staff frozen in the attention position until he disappeared into the fastness of his own office, barely even acknowledging the ritual, "Good morning, Admiral" from his yeoman.

He had only just taken his seat at his desk when a rap on the doorjamb announced the presence of Legalman Two Coates, bearing her chief's first mug of coffee, his calendar for the day and the first sheaf of the morning's messages.

Chegwidden held his hand out for the calendar, indicating that Coates should just place the handful of notes in his in-tray. He looked up at the Yeoman over the top of his reading glasses, and said, "Clear the calendar for this morning. All meetings postponed until further notice, and as soon as it's oh eight hundred, get on the 'phone to the SecNav's office, I need to see him this morning. And pass the word, Staff Call is brought forward to oh eight thirty hours."

"Aye, aye, sir. Postpone all meetings indefinitely; call the SecNav's Office and set up an appointment for this morning, and staff call at oh eight thirty hours, sir."

"Good, make it so!" and then as the Yeoman lingered, he raised his eyebrows, "Was there something else, Coates?"

"Yes, sir; Colonel MacKenzie has asked to see you as soon as convenient," Coates tried to judge the Admiral's mood. He had barely spoken to her since he stormed out of the office last week, completely ignoring her on his late return from wherever he had been, "In fact, sir, the Colonel said she needed to see you as soon as your six… uh… as soon as you got in sir."

Chegwidden gave his Yeoman a wintry smile, he and his Petty Officer had played this game too many times for the admiral not to have recognised that his gruffness and Mac's imperatives had once again placed Coates between a rock and a hard place.

"OK Coates, pass the word for the Colonel…" and then as a thought struck him, "Uh… she has had a coffee this morning, hasn't she?"

"Oh, yes, sir. I wouldn't pass the word until I was sure she had."

"Very well, Coates, dismissed!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

A bare couple of minutes passed before a sharp rap at the door announced the arrival of Colonel MacKenzie, who in response to his command to enter, marched up to the Admiral's desk and halted at attention.

Chegwidden looked over the top of his reading glasses at her, before removing them and pinching the bridge of his nose. She had on her most stubborn kick-ass jarhead expression, and he just knew that whatever she had in that file folder under her arm was not going to make him the happiest man alive. Still with any luck it wasn't something that needed his immediate attention, and if that was the case, he might even get away without having to deal with it at all.

"Alright Colonel, at ease, take a seat."

"I'd prefer to stand, sir!" Chegwidden winced. He was right, this was not going to be one of their better shared moments, and he certainly wasn't going to make it any better by allowing a junior officer to stand in a dominating position while he remained seated.

"I said, sit down, Colonel!"

Mac glared at him mutinously, he had just cut half of the high ground out from under her, but she was left with only one possible response, "Aye, aye, sir!"

Chegwidden waited until the marine had seated herself, but rather than sitting back in the chair as she would normally have done, she was perched, bolt upright on the very edge of the seat. Another bad sign, he thought to himself.

"OK, Colonel, what have you got for me?"

"This, and this, sir!" She passed him the file folder and a slim white envelope, not too dissimilar from the one he had tucked in his inside breast pocket.

"What is it Colonel?"

Mac was not without her own sense of the dramatic, she paused for a few moments, "The file folder, sir, contains requests for re-assignment from twenty-three of the HQ enlisted. The envelope contains my resignation letter, sir"

Chegwidden nodded silently, Mac's resignation wasn't a total surprise, she had more or less hinted last week that it was on its way, and if he was being brutally honest with himself, requests for re-assignment from the HQ enlisted weren't too surprising either. The whole HQ had been unsettled since the Singer case, and Rabb's resignation seemed to have a lit a spark to a powder train. That spark was now fast approaching the magazine. He opened the file folder and quickly scanned through the folios inside it, each one of them cited a variation on the same theme in the Reason For Request box, 'lack of trust in the Command', all a slap in his face. And all counter signed, as was proper, by his Chief of Staff.

"Am I to take it that your letter of resignation is submitted on much the same grounds?"

"Yes, sir!"

He nodded. "I will submit your resignation to the SecNav, Colonel, but I'm not sure he'll accept it. As you know, JAG is short handed now…"

"And whose fault is that, sir?" The words were out of Mac's mouth before she realised she had spoken, and hearing her words, she reacted much as Coates had, she went white and her eyes opened wider in anticipation of his anger.

Chegwidden sighed, he had he supposed asked for that, and at this stage of the game, there was little profit to be gained from filing charges, but a reprimand was certainly in order. "Colonel, that was more than just borderline insubordination. Let that be the last time!"

A relieved Mac could only reply, "Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!" as she gradually recovered her colour, and realised her lucky escape.

"It may also interest you to know Colonel, that I tried to take steps last week to take up some of the slack here at HQ. I invited Mr Rabb to apply to the SecNav, with my support, to have his commission reinstated, and for him to return to JAG." Mac's face lit up, but Chegwidden hadn't finished, "Mr Rabb declined my invitation… uh… rather forcefully. He said that he no longer trusted me or respected me, and that he would never agree to serve again under my command."

Mac nodded in acknowledgement, despite the current slump in their friendship and even though she had silently prayed that Harm would somehow be re-instated at JAG, she had known in her heart of hearts that the old man sitting opposite her had so thoroughly humiliated the former Commander that he would never return. Harmon Rabb had too much pride, too much integrity ever again to take the orders of A J Chegwidden.

"Are you surprised at his refusal, sir?"

Chegwidden grimaced, "Frankly, Colonel I was, and I am. I thought that Mr Rabb would jump at the chance to get back into uniform."

"Why would he do that, sir? With respect, if you recall the way he was treated - oh not just by you , sir - by everybody when he returned from his flying tour, what possible incentive could he have for subjecting himself to that sort of treatment again? And none of us shone in the way we treated him over the Singer case."

Chegwidden winced. At the time it hadn't seemed to harsh to insist that Rabb started at the bottom of the pecking order, but in hindsight, it had been unnecessary and now had the appearance of being vindictive. As for the Singer mess, well, he was still beating himself up over it. He was well aware that Mac had made a visit to the brig only to be turned away by the guards, and that he had refused Coates permission to visit, and even had her letter to Rabb intercepted and returned marked 'refused by addressee', and he had ended her tearful protests by threatening to bring her up on charges if she persisted.

All in all, this last spring and summer had not been A J Chegwidden's finest. Mac seemed to be on the verge of speaking again, and given the tenor of this conversation thus far Chegwidden was dreading that she might ask the one question to which he had no real answer. In an effort to forestall that he snapped, "That will be all Colonel. Dismissed!"

Mac came to her feet and stood at attention. "Aye, aye, sir!" She waited the regulation pause of two seconds and then about faced and left the suddenly tired older man at his desk.

Chegwidden waited a few minutes; his face buried in his hands, before he pressed the intercom button and said "Coates?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Anything from the SecNav's office yet?"

"Yes, sir, I'm on the external line with them right now, sir."

Two minutes later, a knock on the door indicated the arrival of Legalman Two Coates. "Sir," she began, still somewhat nervously, "The SecNav will see you at ten thirty hours, sir."

"Thank you, Coates." He paused looking at the obviously tense young woman standing rigidly in front of his desk. "Sit down, Jennifer," he began

"Sir?" She stared at him open-mouthed.

"Sit down, please."

Coates sat, a cold feeling growing in her stomach.

"Jennifer, you came very, very close to being thrown in the brig last week. You realise that don't you?"

Coates licked her suddenly dry lips, and had to swallow before she could answer "Ye… yes, sir. And I am truly sorry, sir, it won't happen…"

"Again… Yes I know." His eyes twinkled briefly and just for a second Coates saw the man who had welcomed her to JAG last Christmas Eve.

"Don't ever pull a stunt like that again, not with me, and certainly not with any other senior officers. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. Jennifer I am not displeased with your work. You are efficient, willing and cheerful and generally it is pleasant to have you around. You have some excellent personal qualities, not the least of which is loyalty to those whom you consider friends. Please do not let that loyalty lead you into unnecessary confrontations. There comes a time when you have to cover your own six."

"Yes, sir!"

"Very well, then, we'll say no more of the incident. Dismissed!"

Coates, as Mac had done rose to her feet, "Aye, aye, sir!" and left the Admiral sitting in the Big Chair.

x-x-x-x-x

The newly promoted Commander Tracy Manetti opened the door to the Secretary of the Navy's plush office, totally reconstructed since the original had been so badly damaged on September 11, "Secretary Sheffield will see you now, sir."

"Thank you, Commander," Chegwidden acknowledged brusquely as he passed through the door into the Secretary's office. He still had mixed feelings about Manetti, true, she had been highly instrumental in having Lindsey's report thrown out as a hatchet job, but he had disliked her from the start, and it was due entirely to the knowledge that she was the SecNav's God-Daughter and that she had very probably been placed in JAG to act as his spy.

Edward Sheffield stood as Chegwidden entered the office, walking around his desk and offering his hand, "Good to see you A J" and oozing false bonhomie. Apparently your Yeoman said this was urgent, what can I do for you today? Sit down, man, sit down."

Chegwidden sat in one of the indicated chairs. "Mr Secretary, I am here today to hand you this…" Chegwidden put his hand into his inside pocket and produced the envelope marked with the SecNav's name and title.

Sheffield took the letter with a suspicious frown on his face, "What's all this A J?"

"That, Mr Secretary, is my letter of resignation."

"Resignation?" Sheffield sat back and steepled his fingers.

"Yes, Mr Secretary. I've been dropping the ball badly this last nine months or so, to the extent that I have lost one senior attorney…"

"Rabb?"

"Yes, sir. Another senior attorney tendered her resignation to me this morning, and no less than twenty three junior support and clerical staff have applied for re-assignment, as has my Administrative NCO, Gunnery Sergeant Galindez."

"And?" Sheffield pushed.

"They all give the same reason for resignation and requesting new billets." He smiled bitterly, "They all state, in writing, that they no longer trust the Command - in other words, me." Chegwidden drew a breath, "I attempted on Friday to make good at least one of my mistakes, and I went to see Rabb. I invited him to request that you reinstate his commission with a view to his returning to JAG. He turned me down in no uncertain terms, saying that he no longer trusted me nor respected me, and would never again agree to serve under my command. When comparatively junior officers, even former officers say that to my face - and he said much more - it is obvious that I can no longer command. Mr Secretary, I've served more than thirty years, you have to let me go."

"Are you sure of this AJ?"

"Yes, sir. I am sure. For the good of the service."

"Very well. Have you decided when you wish to go?"

"As soon as possible would be best Mr Secretary, the end of the month if it could be managed."

"Who would be acting JAG until the new is appointed?"

"I've only got two possible contenders in Falls Church, Commander Turner, or Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie. Of the two, it would have to be Turner, and he's not ideal - too hidebound, and he has a personal grudge against another officer. MacKenzie is the other senior attorney who tendered her resignation to me this morning."

Sheffield sighed, "Under those circumstances, A J, I don't see how I can let you go…"

"With all due respect Mr Secretary, you can't refuse to let me go." Chegwidden grinned mirthlessly, "But you can refuse to let MacKenzie go, and if she stays, then she is the logical choice for JAG pro-tem."

"H'mm, you may have dropped the ball a few times, A J, but you're still a cunning old fox. Alright, I'll process this letter of yours. But, I'll let you break the glad news to Colonel MacKenzie."

"Sir, I'm sure that when Colonel MacKenzie hears that I'm the one resigning, she'll be only too glad to stay!"

Secretary Sheffield watched the ex-Seal leave his office, and shook his head in amazement. He would never understand the military mind, no matter how long he was exposed to it. If it had been him in Chegwidden's place he would have accepted MacKenzie's resignation and toughed it out. Resigning for the 'good of the service' such self-righteous, pompous horse-pucky! But Chegwidden had given him an idea…

He waited a few moments in case the old Admiral was hanging around in Manetti's outer officer, before he picked up the phone and called her. "Commander, can you come in please?"

Sheffield watched Tracy Manetti as she walked across the carpet towards where he was sat at his desk. "Sir?" she enquired.

"Two questions, Tracy. One, do you know where ex-Commander Rabb lives? And can you get hold of him? Two, how would you like to go back to JAG - not on TAD but for a full rotation?"

"I do know where Mr Rabb lives, and I believe I can get hold of him, sir. As for going back to JAG, that would depend, sir."

"On?"

"On whether I went back as an attorney, or whether it was to just act as your agent en place."

"One of the reasons I pulled you out of JAG is that Admiral Chegwidden did not like you there. He suspected you were acting as my spy."

"Which I was, sir, and it was not a role I enjoyed."

"Well, his dislike of you, or your role, is no longer a factor in your future assignments. Admiral Chegwidden resigned today. So, I have a little bit of juggling to do, before I can decide who goes where to do what, and then I will have to kick my proposals upstairs. In the meantime, get hold of Rabb for me and arrange a meeting between him and myself, and think over whether or not you would like to return to JAG."

"Yes, sir"

x-x-x-x-x

Chegwidden growled, "As you were, as you were!" almost before the cry of "Admiral on Deck" had sounded, and passing through his Yeoman's cubby-hole smiled and said, "Two coffees please, Jennifer, one for me, one for the Colonel, and pass the word for the Colonel to report to me ASAP!"

As Chegwidden waited for his replacement pro-tem, he mulled over what had passed during his interview with the SecNav. He had the nagging feeling that not only had the SecNav not been surprised at his resignation, but that he'd rather expected it, and worse, had almost seemed to welcome it. A sharp tap on his doorjamb broke his introspection and looking up he saw that Mac was holding the door open for Coates as the latter bore a tray with two mugs of coffee on it.

"Thank you, Coates; that will be all. Come on in Mac… no, I know you're reporting as ordered, so don't bother. Take a seat."

Mac sat regarding the newly affable senior officer warily.

Chegwidden grinned, which worried her even more, but he was grinning at the transparency of her thoughts. He leaned back in his chair and delving once more into his inside pocket, he drew out her letter of resignation and proffered it to her. "I'm pleased to tell you, Colonel that the SecNav has seen fit not to accept your resignation at this time."

"But Admiral…"

"Kindly allow me to finish, Colonel…" he paused waiting to see if she dared interrupt him again, "But he has seen fit to accept my resignation. So you see Colonel, with me gone, and according to your stated reasons for wishing to resign your commission, you no longer have any reason to destroy your career. And until further notice, that is until a new JAG is appointed, you will be the acting JAG!"