17

Harm hung his freshly pressed uniform on the hook on the door and unplugged the iron, leaving it on the ironing board to cool down before stowing it away, and moving to the couch he took Catherine's hands in his own, and gently tugged her upright to make room for him to sink down beside her, raising his arm to let her head rest against the hollow of his shoulder, while his hand idly traced random patterns down the outside of her arm.

Mattie looked up from where she was reading a glossy magazine, grinned and demanded in mock suspicion, "You two aren't going to start any inappropriate behaviour are you?"

Harm cast his eyes around the apartment, the walls either side of the door were lined with packed and taped movers' boxes, while the rest of the room, stripped of pictures and ornaments looked cold and barren. It had taken the three of them two fifteen hour days to reduce what had been a comfortable home to a shell, and the effort had not been without its cost, both physical and emotional.

"No… no inappropriate behaviour Mattie," he sighed, "I for one am too tired for anything like that, and," he looked down into Catherine's face, whose red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks bore mute witness to her emotional exhaustion, "I'm pretty sure that all Catherine wants is a cuddle?"

Catherine nodded her head in agreement, and then after a few seconds she looked up at Harm and with a weak smile she added, "And a cup of tea?"

Harm groaned, "You're killing me!" he complained, half in earnest as he unwound his arm from around Catherine's shoulder, but before he could stand, Mattie had laid down her magazine, and bounced to her feet.

"I'll get it!" she said brightly, "What sort? Lemon grass, raspberry and rose-hip, English breakfast?"

"Oh… raspberry, please," Catherine decided.

"Suits me!" Harm called as the teenager ran water into the kettle, and he settled back to snuggle with Catherine. Dropping a gentle kiss on her forehead he asked, "Are you OK now?"

Catherine nodded, "Yes, thanks." She paused for a few seconds and then mustering up a self-deprecating chuckle, she said, "I was just being dumb, wasn't I? But when you packed the pictures away, it just sort of hit me. This apartment had been home for nearly eleven years, ever since I started work at Langley, and it felt good to be here, like pulling on a pair of battered old gym shoes that are really comfortable – and now I'm not going to be here anymore."

"Are you having second thoughts about moving?" Harm asked her, unable to keep a touch of anxiety out of his voice.

"No… well, not really… Yeah, I mean I'm moving out of my comfort zone, and that's a little scary," she confided to him, looking up once more into his eyes, "But I'm also excited about it… well, maybe not the move, but I am excited about starting a new life with you, and Mattie, and Elizabeth. It's just that all of a sudden, I was so sad, like by looking forward to a new stage in my life, I was somehow being disloyal to…" she gestured, indicating the space around them, "all this. Like I said, dumb, huh?"

"No… not dumb," Harm reassured her, "Look, you're going through two of the most stressful experiences a woman can go through, and you're handling both at the same time! You're allowed – hell, you're supposed to get a little upset! If you weren't upset, I'd be really worried about you." He dropped another kiss on the crown of her head, closing his eyes and breathing in the wildflower scent of her shampoo. This is my fault, he told himself severely. We should have acted quicker and got the hell out of here before things got to this stage… or I should have put my foot down, and held off on the Mattie thing until we'd moved and the baby was born.

"Look, I've made our bed – pretty badly, too – and now we've all got to lie in it, and I'm sorry for that, but I will make it up to you, I promise!"

Catherine squirmed around until she was practically facing him, "Don't you dare!" she scolded him. "Don't you dare start thinking this is all your fault!"

"But it is…" he started to protest.

"How?" she asked him bluntly.

"Well… If I'd been a bit quicker off the mark about finding us a proper house… or put it off until after the baby was born then you wouldn't have all this stress at the same time."

Catherine looked at him in amazement, what the hell was he thinking?

But before she could frame a question or even a coherent response to his last bit of nonsense, Mattie returned from the kitchen carrying a tray on which rested three mugs of steaming raspberry tea. Wriggling back upright, Catherine took the offered mug with a smile of thanks, as Mattie placed a second mug on the coffee table, convenient to Harm's left hand, before she resumed her seat in the armchair, her feet tucked up underneath her.

"OK, what were you two fighting about?"

Catherine and Harm exchanged a look of astonishment before their heads swivelled back towards the teenager, "We weren't fighting!" they chorused, and then after another shared look of surprise, they both grinned, Catherine breaking into a little giggle.

"No?" Mattie's reply was packed with more cynicism than a single word should be capable of bearing, and the expression on her face was clear evidence of her disbelief in their denial.

"No… we weren't fighting." Harm repeated in a voice that stated quite clearly that as far as he was concerned the subject was closed.

"We were just having a bit of discussion about the move, and about how dumb I was reacting the way I did earlier," Catherine explained, ignoring the glare she was receiving from Harm.

"Uh-huh. So it's just the stress of moving right?" Mattie asked.

"Well, that, and the baby, and the timing of everything. Harm was just saying that it was all his fault, for not being quicker or smarter, and I was just about to shoot him down when you interrupted us."

"Yeah, I'm good at that, aren't I?" Mattie challenged them.

Harm frowned at her, "What do you mean, Mats?"

The teenager shrugged. "I mean I'm not helping with Catherine's stress levels." She sighed, "I should never have agreed to come up to DC with you, I should have kept my mouth shut and stayed in…"

"That's nonsense!" Catherine exploded as Harm nodded his head in vigorous agreement with her. "Look around Mattie, you have been a huge help over the last couple of weeks, there is no way that Harm and I could have gotten half of this packed without your help through the day!"

Mattie gave her a pitying look, and sat up straight in her chair, pulling her feet out from under her, "Catherine, I'm fifteen, not stupid. Yeah, OK, I helped with the packing – big deal! But it doesn't make up for the stress I cause by just being here, so that you're worrying about me while you're at work, or when you should be resting, and then" she continued, ignoring both Harm and Catherine's attempts to rebut her position, "There's all the worry I'm causing both of you about this guardian thing. You'd both be better off without me. I should just pack up and go back to Charlottesville!" she ended bitterly.

Harm blinked at the degree of rancour in the young girl's voice, and took a moment or two to marshal his arguments, "That's not really the case, Mattie. Catherine was pregnant for months before she met you, and even if she hadn't met you, she and I would still have to be coping with the changes the baby is bringing to our lives. So that is one thing you have absolutely nothing to do with! Secondly, and again before Catherine met you, we'd already decided to move out of our apartments and into a house. Do you remember the first time you and Catherine met? It was the picnic we had at Charlottesville? Well, I told you then that it was partly a reward for Catherine for going house-hunting with me the previous day. So once again, you have nothing to do with any of the stress inflicted by our moving house."

"No, you don't!" Catherine agreed emphatically, "And as far as stressing me because you're here? Nothing could be further from the truth. You don't know just how much peace of mind I get when I leave for work in the morning, knowing that by the time I get back in the evening I'll be too tired to do anything constructive, but that you will have packed a couple of boxes during the day, and that as soon as I walk through the door, you'll be putting the kettle on to boil. Honestly, Mattie, I don't know what I would have done these last three weeks if you wouldn't have been here for me!"

Mattie pinkened with pleasure at the praise Catherine lavished on her, but still clung to her position, "Yeah, OK, well, maybe. But there's still the stress of the court date coming up, and strangers poking into your life, and that's all down to me!"

"Well, for a start, it's not that big a deal as far as the stress load goes," Catherine demurred, "And anyway, it's Harm that's handling all that side…"

"Yeah… maybe…" Mattie was still unconvinced, "But he's still getting straight with a new job, and that's gotta have a whole shit… uh… boat-load of stress along with it. And if he's getting stressed, then it's gotta be piling on to you too!"

Harm disentangled himself from the couch, and crossed to perch on the arm of Mattie's chair, dropping a comforting hand on to her shoulder and pulling her in so her head rested against the side of his chest.

"Listen, squirt," he smiled down at her, "Yeah, there's stress with this new job, but it's a whole lot less stress than being an out-of-work crop duster, waiting for CPS and Social Services to turn down our application before we even get to the family court, 'cos I don't have a job. And what's more," he went on as she gave indications of wanting to interrupt him, "The new job has benefits that directly affect all three of us. I have access to Navy Legal Services, free of charge, and they're handling all the legal stuff about the house purchase, and the letting agreement for my apartment, as well as making sure that all the t's are crossed and all the i's are dotted on the guardianship application. So the stress fallout from that is negligible. So as Catherine has just said, having you here to look after her, and to help her pack, far outweighs any additional stress – and I'm not saying that there is any – that you being with us might cause. Besides, even if you did have a negative effect on us, it wouldn't matter, because we love you, anyway."

"Damn straight!" Catherine affirmed with a smile.

Mattie looped her arm around Harm's waist, and buried her face against his chest. "An' I love you two, too," she mumbled, "But are you really sure you're OK with me being here?" she asked in a choked voice.

Harm leaned back so that he could look down at Mattie's brimming eyes, "We wouldn't have it any other way!" he said emphatically.

"Oh…" Mattie was speechless for a few seconds, and then fumbled in her jeans pocket, and then standing she said, "Uh… I just got to go… for a few minutes, OK?"

"Yeah, go ahead, kiddo," Catherine said as Harm too stood and turned back towards the couch.

"She's funny," Catherine said once Mattie had closed the bathroom door behind her, "She's so mature one minute, and then… when things get a bit heavy, she runs for cover."

Harm re-took his seat next to Catherine and taking a gulp of his now barely warm tea, he grimaced, and sank back against the squabs, once more raising his arm so that Catherine, could wriggle back into her accustomed position with her head in the hollow of his shoulder, "Yeah… it's just that she's had to grow up so damned fast, but she hasn't learned yet that it's OK for adults to cry, sometimes. So, when she cries, she hates it for anybody to see her."

Catherine nodded, "You know, that's going to be one of our biggest challenges with Mattie."

"What is?" Harm asked.

"Getting her to accept that she's a teenager, and not a smaller scale version of an adult."

"You're pretty damn' clever for a sneaky old spook!" Harm grinned; nudging Catherine's face up towards him as he bent his own head down and kissed her gently.

Catherine returned the kiss, her tongue passing swiftly over his bottom lip, before she leaned backward, and with her eyes darkening, she growled, "And just watch who you're calling old, buster!"

"Oh, I am, I am," he smiled into her eyes, causing the breath to catch in her throat, "And I really, really like what I'm watching!"

Catherine snaked up an arm and with her hand at the back of his head, pulled him down to her level, where she kissed him, at first gently, and then with a growing urgency as mouths opened to each other, and without Harm being aware of it, his hand slid up from Catherine's waist to gently cup her breast. They were only recalled to the here and now, by a gasp from the direction of the bathroom door.

Guiltily breaking apart, they turned to see a half-shocked, half-amused Mattie standing in the doorway, her hand covering her mouth. "I think… I think I'll just go to bed now," she mumbled, "Goodnight, you two!" The teenager then almost fled the living room, leaving Harm and Catherine open-mouthed in shock on the couch.

Harm was the first to recover his wits, "Damn! Busted! Umm… do you think that might be construed as… uh… inappropriate behaviour?" he asked.

"Whose… ours or Mattie's?" a still-not-quite-with-the-programme Catherine demanded.

"Oh, ours, definitely," Harm replied.

"Oh, no. No, I figure that it was entirely appropriate behaviour for two consenting adults," Catherine replied with a mischievous smile, having now recovered her customary poise.

"Well, when you put it like that counsellor…" Harm smiled in agreement, pausing to land another gentle kiss on Catherine's lips.

"But," she said with a teasing smile, "the location might have been a tad on the inappropriate side!"

"So…" his voice deepened to a huskiness that sent a shiver down Catherine's spine, "Why don't I clear up in here, while you get ready, and then maybe we could continue this discussion somewhere more appropriate?"

Reduced almost to a speechless state, Catherine could only nod and wait for Harm to help her to her feet. "Don't be long, sailor," she pleaded.

Harm took a few minutes to tidy up the cups and tea pot, keeping an ear open for the sounds from the bathroom to cease, and smiled as Catherine waddled through from bathroom to bedroom, wrapped, he noted in his bathrobe – her own no longer capable of wrapping itself around her gravid belly.

It was some fifteen minutes later that shampooed, showered and with freshened breath he slid under the coverlet, his left arm sliding under Catherine, to draw her closer to him. She propped herself on an elbow, and stroking his still just damp hair away from his forehead, she dropped her eyes and said, "Look, Harm, if Mattie hadn't interrupted us when she did, then maybe, it would have been OK, but now… do you mind if we don't… It's not that I don't want to, Oh God, you'll never guess just how much I want to, but this's kind of cold blooded, premeditated… if it had happened on the couch, it would have been spontaneous…" she giggled, "And I thought you had problems with spontaneous… and I'm babbling now aren't I? So I'll just shut…"

Harm raised himself on his elbow and silenced her with a gentle, brief kiss, before he lay back on his pillow, and gently pressed her down so that her head was once more resting in the crook of his shoulder. "Catherine, if you want me as badly as I want you, then it will happen, but it will only happen when we're both good and ready. And if you're not ready tonight, then neither am I. So, yes, I'm good with waiting until it's right for both of us."

Catherine looked at him wonderingly, and stretching he neck, she managed to land a butterfly kiss on his jaw, "You're a good man, Harmon Rabb," she told him softly.

Harm blushed slightly at that praise, and stretched an arm out to switch off the lamp on the night stand. "Hush, sweetheart, go to sleep," he told her.

"M'mm… G'night, Harm."

"Goodnight, sweetheart"

xvii-xvii-xvii-xvii-xvii

"Coates!" Admiral Chegwidden's voice floated out of his office and carried easily to the ears of his Yeoman.

"Sir!"

"Pass the word for Commander Turner, Commander Manetti and Lieutenants Roberts and Sims, please!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

Within two minutes, the officers whose presence he had demanded had arrived in the JAG's Office and the first arrivals had been told to stand at ease until the last of them, Lieutenant Sims scurried in. Coates took station a pace to the right rear of her principal, as he spoke, "Attention to Orders!"

All snapped to attention as the Admiral continued, "Lieutenant Roberts, front and centre!"

Bud Roberts stepped forward his face a picture of confusion. The Admiral spoke again, "Mister Roberts, it gives me enormous pleasure that my last official act as Judge Advocate General of the Navy is to conduct your promotion ceremony!"

Ignoring the gape mouthed officer he turned to his Yeoman, "Coates, if you will."

"Aye, aye, sir!" Jennifer Coates slipped her hand into her purse and withdrew a small, black box which she handed to the broadly grinning Lieutenant Sims, who was barely able to contain her excitement. Opening the box she saw the two bronze oak-leafs that represented her husband's advancement, and almost jumping up and down with excitement, she showed them to a still-stunned Bud.

"Lieutenant Commander Roberts, raise your right hand, and repeat after me…"

Bud numbly repeated the oath that marked his formal acceptance of his new rank, finishing with the formulaic, "so help me, God." And accepted the usual congratulatory kiss from his wife.

Sturgis Turner could hardly believe the evidence of his eyes and ears, and although he offered his congratulations to the newly promoted Lieutenant Commander, he could not keep his disapproval out of his voice, his face or his bearing. Tracy Manetti had no such misgivings and warmly congratulated Bud, and casting a smiling glance at Harriet Sims, she asked, "May I?"

Receiving a smiling, "Yes, ma'am" from the bubbly blonde, she leaned in towards Bud and placed a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek.

Chegwidden coughed, drawing the attention of all back to himself, "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, you are dismissed!"

He waited until his officers had filed out of the office, and sat down again, facing Mac across the desk. "You saw that, I trust?" he queried.

"Turner?" Mac queried

Chegwidden nodded, "I had hoped to get that sorted out before I left," he shook his head in disapproval of Turner's reaction. "But I'm afraid that's just one more mess I've left you. Sorry Mac. In fact, I'm sorry for a lot of things."

Mac stiffened slightly, "That may be, sir," she affirmed, "but there is nothing that either of us can do about those things now, is there?"

"No, Mac, there's not," Chegwidden sighed as he pushed his chair back from the front of the desk that used to be his, and stood, gazing at the now bare walls and shelves of the office. As a courtesy, Mac had arranged for a weekend working party under Jennifer Coates' supervision to pack the outgoing JAG's personal effects and deliver them to his house in McLean, now the stripped walls and empty shelves gave even the warm-tinted oak panelling a cold, almost sterile appearance.

"Well, that's it, Sarah," he said taking a last look round.

Mac was shocked, in all the years of their service together, the Admiral had occasionally addressed her as Mac, but she couldn't remember a single instance of him ever calling her Sarah. For a moment she stood in place her mouth open but no sound issuing from it. Chegwidden smiled wryly as he picked up his cover, and turned towards the door. "Well, it seems I've achieved something while I've been here," he remarked, "I've finally managed to render you speechless!"

Mac blushed at his teasing and swallowing, recovered her voice, "Let me walk you out, sir?"

The old man smiled again, this time with real pleasure, "You don't need to do that Mac, but yes I'd like that."

The Admiral opened the office door and as he stepped through, Jennifer Coates sprang to her feet and assumed the position of attention. Chegwidden regarded her thoughtfully, "Goodbye, Jennifer, he said softly, "You have been one of the best Yeomen I've ever known, but please remember what I told you about balancing loyalty to your friends with loyalty to yourself."

"Yes, sir. I will, sir."

"Good!" he smiled at her again and strode out into the bull-pen, and as he did so, Jennifer Coates' voice rang around the room, "Admiral on deck!"

"As you were people, as you were!" he gave his customary dismissal, only to be shocked in both silence and stillness as Mac's voice sounded loud and clear, "Belay that! Ten-hut! Admiral Departing, General Salute!"

Casting a startled glance around the bull-pen Chegwidden saw that it was more than ordinarily crowded. In addition to the normal Operations staff, Judges Morris, Helfman, Blakely and Sebring as well as a coterie of the Judicial Support Staff had found their way into the bull-pen, and that it seemed that all his officers, including the Officer in Charge and the Duty Officer of the Marine Security Detachment had foregathered by the exit, and that all of the officers, including the judges had defied convention and were wearing their covers, and that their right hands had snapped to a salute. Placing in his own cover on his head, he returned the salute, and visibly straightening his back and shoulders, he strode more purposefully towards the exit. As he reached it, Mac's voice rang out again, "Ten-hut!"

Chegwidden turned to face her as his officers' hands came down from the salute, and for a few seconds Admiral and Lieutenant Colonel stood in silence their eyes locked on each other.

Then Mac spoke to her old Commanding Officer for the final time, "Fair Winds and Following Seas, sir!"

Chegwidden nodded, "Thank you, Colonel," and with a final glance around the bull-pen he turned and walked out through the door.

xvii-xvii-xvii-xvii-xvii

Secretary of the Navy Edward Sheffield looked again at the spread-sheet on his desk, and shook his head in bewilderment. Yes, he had tasked Rabb to look at JAG manning, not just at JAG HQ, but world and fleet-wide, but he hadn't expected anything on this scale, and with the other tasks he had assigned to his new legal adviser, he certainly hadn't expected such quick results. Shaking his head once more, he reached across his desk and pressed the call button for his PA.

"Yes, Mr Secretary?"

"Penny, call Commander Rabb, please, have him come and see me at his earliest convenience!"

"Yes, Mr Secretary!"

Penny Maybridge smiled as the intercom clicked, marking the end of the call, and picked up her telephone and dialled Rabb's extension. "Hello, sailor, Penny Maybridge here, the SecNav wants to see you ASAP!" she told him, automatically converting Sheffield's polite request into the command that it really was.

"I'm on my way, Penny!" Rabb was standing even as he spoke, pausing only to make sure that his desk was clear and the drawers locked. Passing through the Yeoman's office he smiled at Barker, and indicated one of the other three doors leading off the small ante-chamber, "Any sign of Commander Coleman yet, Barker?"

"No, sir!"

"H'mm… I've been summonsed to appear before God's representative at the DoN, so if the Commander should make an appearance before I return please ask her to wait until I do get back before she pulls another disappearing act!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" Barker replied, and then sighed dreamily as Rabb left her office, letting the door swing shut behind him. Barker gave herself a mental slap, it was absolutely useless to moon over any officer, even one as gorgeous as Commander Rabb, and anyway, he was far too old for her!

Harm rapped twice on the door to the SecNav's outer office and opened the door, "Good morning, Penny, is he ready for me, firing squad lined up?"

Penny Maybridge, a full-figured motherly blonde in her forties, grinned, for some reason Rabb had that effect on her, it was probably his smile, it was so infectious, "No, I don't think you're going to be shot this morning; he didn't sound as if he was mad at anyone! Hold on a moment…" she pressed the call button on the intercom, "Mister Secretary, Commander Rabb is here as you requested…"

The SecNav's voice, already made gravelly by his long years of consumption of bourbon and cigars was rendered even more alien by the vagaries of electronics, "Thank you Penny, send him on in!"

Harm nodded to acknowledge he'd heard the message, and, his well-polished shoes soundless on the plush carpeting, he crossed the few feet to the SecNav's door and tapped twice on the doorjamb.

"Enter!"

Harm pushed the door open and turning, closed it behind him, "You wanted to see me, Mister Secretary?" he asked politely.

"Yes, come in properly man, and sit down!" Sheffield waved in the general direction of one of the visitors' chairs, and waited until Rabb had seated himself.

Sheffield leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of his chin, as he stared at the naval officer, who calmly and unblinkingly returned his scrutiny. "The manning plot," he began. "That's some very fast work, and it looks to be remarkably thorough and certainly a lot more far-reaching than I had anticipated. Would you care to enlighten me as to your reasoning behind it?"

"With respect Mister Secretary, I believe I have covered my rationale in the notes attached to the plot," Harm pointed out.

"Maybe, maybe, but I'd still like to hear them from your lips, Commander!"

"Very well, Mister Secretary. Lindsey must be laughing his head off in Leavenworth, because despite all he said and did, he was right about one aspect of JAG, we had all become too comfortable with our billets and with those with whom we worked. As a result, the ball was being dropped and in certain cases we had become too reliant on inter-personal dynamics, rather than on the ties of duty and responsibility!"

"Are you talking about yourself and Colonel MacKenzie, Commander?"

Harm grinned wryly, by opening that particular door, he had known in advance that he was offering the SecNav exactly the opportunity he had just taken. "Yes, Mister Secretary, I do include myself and Colonel MacKenzie in that bracket. But there are other, more important factors to take into consideration."

"Go on."

"While some of us have spent years in plum billets, there are others who have received less favourable treatment. If you'll look at the column headed 'Tranche', you will see that there is a number against every officer's name. Those in Tranche One have been in sea-going billets for more than five years. There were more officers in that category than are shown on the plot Mister Secretary, because they became so disillusioned, or were under so much family pressure that they either reached their release date and opted out, or they resigned their commissions. Granted some of them may have only ever intended to fulfill their commitment to the navy, but if we only have a handful of disgruntled former officers out there, it's not got to help the navy, or JAG. The whole manning plot needs to be tightened up, Mister Secretary."

"So, you recommend that those officers in Tranche One be immediately replaced and re-assigned to shore billets?"

"Not just shore billets, Mister Secretary, but shore billets within CONUS."

"Point taken, Commander. We'll do that, but you realise it's not going to happen overnight?"

"Agreed, sir, but warning orders, and invitations to request preferred billets should be issued to those officers as soon as possible, and BUPERS detailers need to be alerted as well, Mister Secretary, we don't need them dragging their feet over this.!

"Agreed. Now, where are we going to find replacements for these sea-going officers?"

"Tranche Two, Mister Secretary. Those officers are all in shore based billets, and have been for longer than normal tours. In fairness to them, if they want to be considered for promotion at some stage in their careers, then they need sea-time!"

Sheffield ran his names down the list of officers in Tranche Two and raised his eyebrows in surprise, "I see you have Commander Turner down in Tranche Two?"

"Yes Mister Secretary, Sturgis Turner is an ex-submariner, who came late to JAG. His current billet is Falls Church, his previous billet was Pearl. Both are prestigious and comfortable billets. Despite his previous sea-going time as a submariner, Commander Turner needs to get in sea-time as a JAG. Sturgis is a good litigator, but he is very much a by the book sailor, he needs to move out of an office where people are just names in a file, and into a community where he can put faces and personalities to names."

"H'mm…" Secretary Sheffield quickly scanned down the list of names, marking with a pencil those currently billeted at Falls Church. "I see that you haven't marked any of the Judges at Falls Church as needing to be moved?"

"No Mister Secretary, I have not." Rabb paused to marshal his arguments, "The judges are under the command of Admiral Morris, and with all else I've recommended for Falls Church, I felt we need some strand of continuity. At least for the present. I recommend that the new JAG, whoever that might be, be briefed to hold discussions with Admiral Morris as to the future manning plot for military judges."

"H'mm… it seems everybody moves, except for Colonel MacKenzie and the newly-promoted Lieutenant Commander Roberts! Why not those two?"

"Continuity again, Mister Secretary, if you'll look again you'll see that I have placed Colonel MacKenzie in Tranche Four, to be PCS within a twelve-month! But for the moment she is the acting JAG and needs to be on station for the handover to the new incumbent, and then perhaps to revert to CoS status until the new JAG is perfectly at home."

"And Commander Roberts?"

"The same, Mister Secretary. Now he's been placed on unrestricted duty, he needs to prove to those who might doubt him that he can carry out those duties, ashore and afloat, but in the meantime, he is the only senior attorney at Falls Church until those moving into billets there are brought up to speed!"

"Yes, those moving into billets at Falls Church. Well, Commander Manetti reports there this morning, I believe?"

"Yes, Mister Secretary, that is so."

"I see that you have recommended a Lieutenant Commander Austin for a billet there also?"

"Yes, Mister Secretary. I know Commander Austin. She was a previous partner of mine at Falls Church, and she has formidable forensic computer skills in addition to her weapons background, and she had developed into a fine investigator, well capable of carrying out JAGMan investigations."

"There is nothing personal between you and Commander Austin?"

"No more than fond memories of a good working relationship, Mister Secretary. My personal life is convoluted enough without adding anyone else to the mix!" Rabb tried to joke, although he was furious that Sheffield would suspect that he was playing favourites with officers' careers.

Sheffield looked at him over the top of his horn-rimmed glasses, but contented himself with an "H'mm" as he continued to scam down the page until he stopped with a jerk. "I'm not happy about these two, Commander," his voice stiff with disapproval.

"Mister Secretary?"

"Lieutenant Commander Coleman and Major Burney!"

"Yes, Mister Secretary, I thought you might have some reservations about those two and my proposals for them."

"I do indeed, Commander, explain if you will."

"Yes, Mister Secretary. I have serious doubts about Commander Coleman's current ability as a trial lawyer. When she attempted to defend me last spring in the Singer case, she was, in my professional view, appallingly bad. She was so bad, that during the short time between NCIS dropping the case and my misadventures in Paraguay that I seriously considered bringing charges of dereliction of duty against her, as well as referring her to the Professional Standards Board on the grounds that she provided me with an inadequate defence. She claimed to have successfully defended nine other capital cases, and I must admit that I took advantage of the last couple of weeks to read through the transcripts of those cases. Each and every one of them should have been won by a first year law student, in fact of the nine cases, seven should never have come to trial, but the charges should have been dropped at an Article thirty-two hearing. Commander Coleman needs to be assigned to a TSO, where she can broaden her experience as a litigator. She has an impressive academic and theoretical record, Mister Secretary, and has the potential to be an excellent trial lawyer, so rather than punishing her for being detailed to take on duty for which she had never been properly prepared, I believe it would be beneficial for her if she receives the mentoring in which she stands in need, so that if she is ever faced with such a duty again, she is better prepared to stand that duty."

Sheffield remained silent for long moments, "If you are telling me the truth, Commander –" he held up his hand to stop an incipient protest "And I have no doubt you are, that is a remarkably generous attitude for you to take."

"Nothing generous about it, Mister Secretary. I confess that I would have found it difficult working with Commander Coleman, but I would have managed. But Commander Coleman has excelled here at the Pentagon, and I feel she has the potential to become a successful litigator. Posting her to a TSO where she can develop those skills, is I feel in the best interests of the Navy."

"So… you harbour no rancour towards Major McBurney, either?"

"None, Mister Secretary."

"But it was his one question to that young Petty officer, that torpedoed your case?"

"It was, Mister Secretary, I may not like what he did, but I would have asked that very same question if I had been prosecuting me!"

"So… why recommend that he be posted to JAG HQ?"

"The JAG Corps has benefitted, on the whole, from Colonel MacKenzie's presence at HQ, and I believe a continued USMC Attorney's presence will be equally beneficial."

Sheffield sat in silent thought for a minute longer. "Very well, " he said at last, "Have warning orders and letters of invitation cut for all those officers on Tranches one and Two, copied to all JAG Detailers at BUPERS with the rider that I expect to see all movement completed within the next three months. Also have orders cut for Commander Coleman to PCS to TSO North West Europe in London. Give her a month. Commander Austin and Major McBurney may also have their orders cut for Falls Church. JAG HQ is now so short staffed, that they need to get there ASAP, as you navy people are so fond of saying. You realise that with Commander Coleman gone, you are going to be busier than normal until we can find a replacement for her?"

"Yes, Mister Secretary, I do. But there is an officer in Tranche One, a Lieutenant Commander Bellingham, who I believe would be ideal as Commander Coleman's replacement."

"Do you know this Bellingham?"

"I've met her, Mister Secretary, but I don't know her that well, but her fitreps are outstanding and she's had three consecutive recommendations for a staff appointment. And she's been afloat for over four years, Mister Secretary." Harm emphasised the last sentence, leaving Sheffield in doubt as to his disapproval; but in fairness, he told himself, Sheffield was still a comparative newcomer to the job, and due to the speed with which Secretary Nelson had resigned, it was no wonder that certain aspects of naval administration had gotten into a tangle.

"Very well, Commander. Have her orders cut too!"

"Yes, Mister Secretary. There's just one more thing I'd like to mention, before we finish up, though."

"And that is?"

"Legalman Petty Officer Second Class Barker, Mister Secretary."

"Petty Officer Barker? Why what's she done?"

"Nothing, Mister Secretary, but she has represented to me that while she feels she's done a more than fair job as yeoman to your naval officers, she is in fact a Legalman and is keen to return to her career path. I'd like your authority to have orders cut, posting her to Falls Church as a Legalman."

"And I suppose you have a replacement in mind for her too?" Sheffield asked, with more than just a hint of sarcasm.

Harm grinned, completely unabashed, "Yes, Mister Secretary, I do!"

"Alright, Rabb, go ahead, and rearrange the whole DoN if you must!" Sheffield responded acerbically.

"Uh… do you really mean that, Mister Secretary?" Harm asked, injecting enthusiasm into his voice.

"God, no!" Sheffield exploded, "No, you've done quite enough damage for one day! Just go and get those wheels in motion!"

Harm stood, "Aye, aye, Mister Secretary!"

"Well, don't get too pleased…" The SecNav stopped in mid diatribe as his intercom buzzed, "Yes, Penny?"

"Mister Secretary, your ten-thirty appointment is here." Penny Maybridge's voice came clearly over the intercom.

"Thank, you Penny, I'll see him in a moment."

Sheffield released the intercom button, and passed the Manning Plot back to harm, "Go on Commander, make things happen!"

"Yes, Mister Secretary," Harm drew himself up to attention and turning, strode soundlessly across the thick carpet to the door and opening it stepped through into Penny Mayberry's office, where he stopped, shocked into stillness, as his heart seemed to turn a somersault.

The SecNav's ten-thirty appointment stared at Harm in disbelief, "Commander Rabb?" he said wrath mingling with his incredulity.

"Admiral, sir!" Harm gulped as he stared into the angry face of A J Chegwidden.