20

Harm watched as the courier carefully checked each envelope off against the print out, nodding approvingly when he signed for delivery only when he was satisfied that it was complete. He waited until the courier had departed before he crossed to Barker's desk, waving the young petty officer to remain seated even as she was in the act of springing to her feet.

Harm nodded at the sheets of paper on her blotter, "Makes it all seem real doesn't it, Barker?"

Barker's face split into a huge grin, "That it does sir. I know it's silly, because I cut the orders myself, but to have them come back to me all signed and everything…"

Harm grinned, "Keep that attitude Barker, and if you ever lose that feeling when you get orders for a billet you want, then it's probably time you left the navy!"

Barker looked up at Harm, his tone of voice was pleasant enough, but it had carried an edge and looking into his face she saw no sign that he was joking. She nodded, "I will, sir, and if it ever gets to that stage, I'll remember what you said!"

Harm had surprised himself and for a few moments was at a loss; the atmosphere in the office had suddenly become awkward. He had said more, and on a more serious level than he had intended. Giving himself a mental shake, he managed a normal, everyday pleasant smile, and changing the subject in an attempt to deflate the moment, he asked, "Has Commander Coleman arrived?"

"Yes, sir. I took her a coffee about ten minutes ago!"

Harm grinned, the tease back in his voice, "Why is it Barker that Commander Coleman gets coffee and I don't?"

"Because she asked me, sir?"

"Oh. Right. Well, Petty Officer Legalman Second Class Barker, could you please find me a cup of coffee?"

"I think that could be arranged, sir!"

"Thank you, but before you do that, have you got Commander Coleman's orders?"

"I handed them to her when she came in, sir."

"OK, thanks, Barker! Oh, and don't forget the coffee please?" he added as he prepared to knock on Faith Coleman's door.

xx-xx-xx-xx-xx

Mac seemed to snap out her stupor and gave her head a slight shake. "Thank you, Coates. Pass the word for Commander Turner to come and see me please."

Jen placed the armful of folders she holding in Mac's 'In Tray' and returned to her own desk, closing the door behind her and leaving Mac to peruse the personnel orders. Losing Turner might not be a bad thing, Mac mused silently. Certainly his attitude to Bud Roberts was deplorable, and worse, it was becoming noticeable in the bull-pen. OK Bud had screwed the pooch on Sturgis' case review, but it had been a momentary hiccup, but Turner had put down and undermined Roberts on every possible occasion since.

The trouble was, pulling Turner out of JAG left her even more short-handed in the short-term. She'd have to let Manetti fly solo on a couple of minor cases and make the time to observe her in action. And then, at least there was some light on the horizon, Lieutenant Commander Megan Austin to PCS in from Pearl… now where had she heard that name before? And Major McBurney… well, that name she recognised he had been the prosecutor in Rabb's botched trial. Mac frowned it seemed all the problems that JAG – and she – had faced recently stemmed from that one bungled rush to trial. In hindsight, it was no real wonder that Rabb had become morose, withdrawn and sullen in its aftermath. And then had come the nightmare that was Paraguay. Mac shook her head; she was not going over all that again! No matter how badly Rabb had been shaken by being tried for attempted murder, there was absolutely no excuse for his attitude towards her and the things he had said to her. But… she did miss her friend, all the same.

Still, Paraguay hadn't been all bad, without Paraguay she would never have learned how much Clayton loved her and how much she meant to him. Mac heaved a sigh; it was just such a damn shame that now he'd been passed fit again by the Agency medics that he was out of town so often.

Her musings interrupted by a knock on her door, she called out "Enter!"

The door opened and Sturgis Turner strode across the carpeted expanse to halt in front of her desk. "Commander Turner, reporting as ordered, ma'am!" he rapped out.

"Sit down, Sturgis, take the weight off," Mac smiled.

Turner did so, a frown forming on his face as he queried, "Mac, what's up?"

"It seems that SecNav has been quite busy on our behalf," Mac said, "We are getting two new attorneys…"

Turner nodded, "That's good, we could do with the extra hands…"

"It's more than that Sturgis; it's a compliment to you. Congratulations!"

"Colonel… I don't understand…."

Mac stood and handed him a file folder, "You've got orders, Sturgis. For Fleet JAG on board the Patrick Henry,"

Turner sat open-mouthed, and Mac was hard put not to giggle at his shocked expression. "It seems, Sturgis that your previous billet was shore-based, as is this one and that if you are going to stand any chance at your O-6 boards, then you are going to need sea-time."

"Mac – I've got years of sea-time!" he protested.

"Yes, yes you have, as a submariner, but not as a JAG."

"I see… may I ask from where these orders originated?"

"Direct from the SecNav, over his personal signature. Sturgis, this seems to have come as a surprise to you…"

"A fine sense of understatement there, Colonel," he said wryly.

"But…" Mac continued as if she hadn't heard him, "I had a feeling something like this was on its way…"

"Why?"

"The Lindsey report… the Singer case… Rabb… That raft of PCS requests from support staff…Now the Admiral retiring… from a new SecNav's perspective, it must look like JAG HQ is spiralling out of control. I have a feeling that the next JAG is going to be riding everyone so hard to make sure that no one puts as much as a toes over the line and that every i and t is dotted and crossed. I reckon that six months down the line, those of us who are at HQ will be wishing for a quiet shipboard billet."

Sturgis looked at her keenly, "You really feel that?"

"Yes, Sturgis, I do, and to such an extent that if I wasn't wearing the big chair, I'd already be talking to my monitor. I have four years to go until my twenty. I used to think that I'd be a lifer… but now… I'm thinking twenty and out."

Sturgis took a second look at his orders and whistled silently, "Not much of a time frame."

"No… so keep on with your priority cases and share the rest of your cases between Manetti and Roberts, and Sturgis, no matter your personal feelings towards Bud, try and maintain unbiased relations with him until you PCS. Your lack of enthusiasm at his promotion didn't go unnoticed, and the atmosphere between you is starting to affect the support staff."

"Mac, the man's a menace, he didn't deserve his promotion, it was only the Admiral's silver bullet that got it for him!"

"Sturgis, I'm going to say this to you only once, and then I'm going to forget that we had this conversation. Bud Roberts is a damn fine officer and a damn fine attorney. If he hadn't lost his leg, he'd have gotten those oak leaves last year!"

"He screwed the pooch, Mac, and damn' near my career with it!" Sturgis bristled with indignation.

Mac looked at him, and said levelly, "Sturgis, had you considered that perhaps if you hadn't screwed the pooch there wouldn't have been any need for a professional conduct review?"

That was too much for Turner. He got to his feet and said stiffly, "I have a lot of work to complete if I'm to be ready for my PCS. Permission to dismiss, ma'am?"

"Yes, dismissed, Commander!"

The sound of the door closing behind Turner was only just short of a slam, and Mac wearily shook her head, "That went well," she told herself ironically, and reached for the intercom.

"Coates, can you get me print-outs of the jackets for Lieutenant Commander Austin – she's at Pearl, and Major McBurney…"

"Austin and McBurney, aye, ma'am!" The lack of enthusiasm in Coates' voice was fairly obvious, and for a moment or two Mac wondered why, and then realised: McBurney had prosecuted Rabb, and had forced Coates into the most damning admission of the whole trial. Given Coates' hero-worship of Rabb, it was quite possible that she had come to dislike McBurney and it was more than possible that she would allow that dislike of McBurney to lead her into insubordination – she was outspoken enough with officers she liked and respected! So, perhaps it was in Coates' best interest that she be posted somewhere else if McBurney was to be posted to JAG. Mac allowed herself a small smile; it would be good to have another Marine attorney on the staff!

xx-xx-xx-xx-xx

Harm gently closed Faith Coleman's door behind him. That had been an uncomfortable ten minutes, not that Coleman had said anything, she had merely left her orders impeccably squared off in the middle of her blotter on her otherwise empty desk. In contrast to their previous conversation, Faith's manner on this occasion had been abrasive, and while her words had been entirely respectful, the tone in which she had spoken was only just this side of insubordinate.

Harm had once again gone over the reasons behind her PCS, and had told her that Captain Rattray at Norfolk was looking forward to gaining a member of staff with so much potential. And that had been no lie. Bill Rattray had been enthusiastic at the prospect of welcoming Faith Coleman to his command, and one of his greatest strengths had always been his ability to mentor and to bring out the best in his junior attorneys, and he was certain that Faith would benefit enormously from her tour under his guidance.

Faith Coleman had been entirely unimpressed and as far as Harm could tell entirely unconvinced, and had remained… hostile, yes, that was the word… throughout the interview. Harm sighed shook his head gently and crossed towards his own office door, asking as he passed Barker's desk, "Any messages?"

Barker picked up three or four pink message slips, "Yes, one from Commander Manetti asking that you call her on her cell 'phones – the number's there. One from Manassas Movers, they want you to confirm the timings for Friday. There's one from a Miss O'Neill. She wants to talk about the Cessna, and one from a Miss Grace, she says you need to make sure that you stop at an ATM on the way home, because you owe her thirty eight bucks and change."

Harm winced; he had made a special point of asking Mattie to pick both his and Catherine's dry cleaning, and had forgotten to leave her the cash to do so. Mattie must have dug into her fast-dwindling reserve of cash; he certainly must make sure he had sufficient cash on him for when he got home this evening.

"Thanks, Barker, anything else come in at all?" Harm said as he took the message slips from her.

"No, that's it sir," the petty officer replied cheerfully "Except…" she left the sentence hanging.

"Except?"

"Except your coffee's going cold, sir."

Harm grinned, "Thanks again, Barker!" he threw over his shoulder as he opened his office door. Moving around his desk he sat and then picked up the 'phone, dialling a well-known and long-familiar number.

"JAG Ops, Legalman One Coates, speaking, how may I help you?"

Harm managed to say "Hello, Jen this…" before Jennifer's squeal of ecstasy cut him off.

"Oh my God, sir! It is you! How are, you is everything OK, where are you, we heard that you'd left the CIA, what are you doing…?"

Harm was slightly taken aback by the mixture of pleasure and concern he heard in the young woman's voice, "Hey, hey, easy Jen, cool your jets a bit! I'm fine!"

"Really, sir?" Jen asked doubtfully.

"Really, Jen. Everything's fine, everything's under control. I can't talk to you right now, I need to speak with Commander Roberts, but I promise, I'll tell you everything in a couple of days, max."

"Do you promise, sir?"

"I promise, Jen."

Jen heaved a silent sigh of relief, "That's good enough for me, sir. It's just I went by your place a couple of nights ago, and it was all dark. Your garage was locked, but there no sign of life… and I was a bit… worried."

"I'll tell you all about it in a couple of days, Jen, but I really do need to speak to Commander Roberts."

"Putting you through now, sir!"

Harm waited through the series of clicks that were transmitted down the line until he heard the handset at the other end being picked up, "Commander Roberts."

"Hi Bud, it's Harm…"

"Sir! Wow! That's great!" The line went dull and then Harm could hear a fainter version of Bud's voice calling "Harriet – it's the commander!"

And then everything went back to normal as Bud's voice came back onto the line loud and clear, "This great, sir. Where are you? The last we saw or heard of you is when you landed that C-130 on the old Seahawk. Sir, we saw that, and I nearly died, Harriett nearly wet herself… Sir, we were all so proud of you…"

Harm let go a dry chuckle, "Well the powers that be didn't think it was so wonderful Bud, that stunt got me fired."

Bud turned serious, "Yeah, well that's their loss, sir. But… well… we're glad you're not working for the Company any more sir! How's the crop-dusting going, Sir?"

"Well, that's finished for the year, Bud, I've got myself a little office job over in Arlington, but I didn't call to talk about myself. First off, congratulations on your half-ring."

"Thank you, sir," Bud said sombrely, "but I wish it hadn't taken the Admiral's retirement to get it for me…"

"Bud, no matter what it took, you deserve that ring… if it hadn't been for your leg, you'd have got your oak leaves long ago!" Harm paused for a reaction but Bud stayed silent. Harm mentally kicked himself; Bud had done so well overcoming his physical problems that it was too easy to forget how mention of his loss embarrassed him.

Awkwardly clearing his throat, Harm hastily continued, "Bud, do you remember Catherine Gale?"

"Miss Gale, the CIA attorney from the Angelshark case, sir? Sure, I remember her."

"Bud… what I'm about to tell you can go no further… you can tell… no, you must tell Harriet, but neither of you can breathe a word of this to another living soul; And Bud, I'm totally serious about this."

Bud nodded, and then realised that Harm couldn't see the gesture, "Got it, sir. Myself and Harriet only!" he tilted the phone a little away from his ear and beckoned Harriet closer so she too could hear.

"Catherine and I are buying a house in Vienna; we move in this weekend, our baby is due in six weeks…"

Bud and Harriet exchanged stunned looks, "Co… congratulations… s… sir…" Bud stuttered, while Harriet's mouth opened in a soundless 'Oh' of surprise as she brought her hands up to her cheeks.

"But, Bud, that's not all…"

Bud looked helplessly at his wife, what on top of that bombshell, could the Commander do now he thought. He and Harriet were about to find out:

"Well you know I went crop dusting… my boss was a fourteen year old girl, whose mother had died in a car wreck and her father had skipped town. Well, I couldn't leave her on her own; she was barely surviving, so Catherine and I have applied for joint guardianship of her."

Bud was literally left floundering for words, and it was left to Harriet to pick up the ball and run with it, "Umm… so I suppose more congratulations are in order, sir?"

"I hope so, Harriet, but in great measure that's up to you and Bud!"

Harriet blinked in surprise, "Us, sir? What do you mean?"

"Well Social Services need a reference certifying mine and Catherine's suitability to be the legal guardians for Mattie, and… uh… I hope you don't mind, but I gave them yours and Bud's names."

"Oh of course, sir! Anyone seeing you with little AJ would know instantly that you'll make a great parent!"

"Thanks, Harriet. I mean that. Take care…"

"Yes, sir. Uh… sir?"

"Yes, Harriet?"

"You're moving this weekend, you say?"

"We are."

"Then you must all come for lunch on Sunday…"

"I don't know, Harriet, all the settling in and unpacking to do…"

"Nonsense, sir, by the time Sunday lunch rolls around, you'll be ready for a break from all that stress… and you did say the baby's due soon… and you know that stress isn't good for mother or baby, don't you… and…"

Harm couldn't prevent himself from chuckling, "Alright Harriet we'll be there, but on one condition…"

"What's that, sir?"

"Nobody else – and I mean nobody else – from Jag is to be there. If I drive up and see any cars other than your minivan, then I shall just drive on straight by. OK?"

Harriet's shoulders sagged, "If you say so, sir."

"I do, Harriet. I know you'd mean it for the best, but I do have my reasons for approaching things this way."

"OK sir. We'll expect you at around twelve-thirty hours on Sunday."

"Fine, we'll see you then. Oh and Harriet?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Thank you."

Harriet replaced the 'phone in its cradle and looked with wondering eyes at her husband. "Well, that was a bolt from the blue! Six months wondering where he was, worrying about what he was doing, and now…"

"I'm still wondering what he's doing," Bud frowned. "Did you notice that not once during that whole conversation did he tell either of us to stop calling him 'sir', and another thing, he knew about my promotion?"

Harriet's eyes became even wider, if that were possible, "Oh, Bud do you think…?"

"Sweetie, right now I'm not even sure that I know what I'm thinking. I certainly don't know anything about the Commander, but I do think I know a girl who might!"

"Bud… you're not making much sense, Bud, what girl?"

"Commander Manetti!" Bud said.

And then, his features becoming stern he stood and made for the door, ignoring Harriet's plaintive wail of "Bud!"

xx-xx-xx-xx-xx

Harm was ploughing through the most recent update to Thomas' 'The Carriage of Goods by Sea Under the Rotterdam Rule' when his phone rang.

"Rabb."

"Hi sailor, you're still with us I see." Penny Maybridge's voice held more than a hint of laughter,

"Yeah I guess so," Harm said ruefully, "but for how much longer?

"Now that, is something you might just be about to find out! His highness wants to see you directly!" Harm noted that the amusement in her voice had dissipated.

"Ah… this is the other shoe falling, is it?"

"I don't know, Harm. All I know is that he wants to see you now!"

"I'm on my way!"

Harm passed through the outer office, saying carelessly to Barker "I'm with the SecNav" as he passed her desk. Making his way along the hall he knocked lightly on Penny Maybridge's door and entered.

"Hi – he's waiting for you, go straight in." Penny gave him an encouraging smile and hoped that this wasn't the end of Commander Rabb's tenure. He was pleasant, polite easy to speak to and understanding of the civilian members of staff who couldn't quite grasp the difference between a Commander and a Corpsman.

In the meantime, the object of her admiration had crossed to the SecNav's office door, knocked, waited and entered when told to.

Secretary of the Navy Sheffield wasn't at his desk, but in one of the leather upholstered wing chair near his drinks cabinet. His suit jacket had been carelessly thrown across the back of the chair and was in imminent danger of being hopelessly crushed should Sheffield take it into his head to lean back. The SecNav held a shot glass carelessly in one hand, and with a casual wave, he invited Harm to take a seat opposite him.

"Can I get you one?" he invited, holding his shot glass up suggestively.

"No, thank you Mister Secretary, I have to drive home later."

"One of the perks of the job, Rabb, I get a driver." He looked sharply at Harm who realised that whatever front the SecNav put on, no matter how relaxed he might seem, the man was fully sober and fully alert.

"Now, Commander, I suppose we'd better get the unpleasant part of this interview over and done with. I have to reprimand you. You were cheeky to an Admiral – a retiring Admiral true, but still an Admiral. Consider yourself reprimanded – don't do it again, the next time could prove to be death sentence to your career! And that would be a shame; you have the potential to achieve higher rank than you now hold."

"No, Mister Secretary, if the temptation should again arise, I'll do my best not to succumb!"

"Good!" Sheffield grunted, "Now that's out of the way, I want to give a presentation tomorrow morning at nine fifteen on the future of JAG. Present will be admirals Tucker and Morris. Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie and you. You will give a presentation on the manning plot as you explained it to me."

"Tomorrow morning, sir?" a startled Harm replied.

"Yes. Tomorrow morning. Is that a problem?"

"No sir, but by your leave, I need to make a start!"

"Alright Commander, carry on!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" Harm replied as he fled the office.

Bursting into the outer office that harboured Barker's work station he barely paused as he rapped out, "Barker – on my six, we've got a helluva lot of work to do in a very short time!"

A puzzled Legalman Two Barker followed him into his office, "Sir…" she began, only to be silenced by Harm's upraised hand as he spoke into his cell 'phone.

"Catherine, hi, it's me. I'm going to be late tonight, sweetheart. But I don't know just how late. You and Mattie should go ahead and eat without me. Just leave me something I can warm up in the oven. Maybe some of last night's moussaka? Oh, and don't wait up for me. And remember," he turned away from Barker so she couldn't see his face, "I love you. 'bye."

Closing the 'phone, he turned to the young woman, "Barker, did you have any plans for this evening?"

Barker had been hoping to settle down with a couple of her girlfriends, a pint of ice cream, a box of chocolates, a bowl of popcorn, a box of kleenex and a weepy movie, but sighed and said, "Nothing of any importance, sir."

"Right, sit down, please. First thing, get on to tech support, AV guys. I need a computer and a large screen monitor in the SecNav's small conference room. I want it set up, checked and running by oh eight thirty hours; secondly, that manning plot: I want every page of it copied into a slide presentation, and a further…" he thought rapidly "Six copies of it, presentation bound. While you're making a start on that, I'll be making some presentation notes."

xx-xx-xx-xx-xx-xx

Mac put down the file she hastily reading, it was bad enough having to try and speed read case files – that was the way minor but important facts and delicately nuanced clues got missed, but the constant barrage of telephone calls weren't aiding her concentration, either! How the hell had the Admiral coped for all those years? Then again the Admiral had had a reasonable number of staff, and half of the calls she taken today were for her in her capacity as chief of staff. There was one thing she was learning fast, being your own chief of staff was a major pain in the ass!

"Yes, Coates?" she snapped.

"Ma'am Captain Richardson from TSO Newport on line three for you."

Mac sighed, Captain Richardson hadn't been very optimistic when they'd spoken on Monday, but the fact that he was at least calling back gave her spirits a minor boost. Mentally preparing Cheerful Mac, she picked up the 'phone and pressed the three button.

"MacKenzie," she said brightly.

"Colonel, good afternoon! This Niall Richardson from TSO Newport."

"Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?"

"It's the other way 'round Colonel. I'm sorry I didn't get back to you sooner, but I had to give a great deal of thought to your request for assistance. You realise that by sending someone TAD to Falls Church, I could very well be leaving myself short-handed?"

"Yes, of course, sir." Meaning you'll be counting any help as favour to be called in when you decide, she thought bitterly. But after all, she was the JAG pro-tem, and AJ had warned her that politics – both real and office – would play a major role in her work.

"Well, having done some mental juggling, I find that I can loan you one Lieutenant Commander, but…"

Here it comes, thought Mac.

"I have three of these Lieutenant Commanders; all have reasonable records at Special and General Courts Martial level, so it would be unfair of me to choose one arbitrarily. You understand that the two not selected might feel it as a slight – a TAD to Falls Church certainly won't harm their careers. And there is a secondary consideration; I wouldn't want any of them to lose contact with their cases down her at Newport."

Mac was puzzled, where was he going with this?

"I like to think that my solution is creative, simple and elegant. I'm prepared to release these three fine young officers to you on a monthly rotation. By the time each of them has rotated through, you should have made some sort of dent in your staffing problem, no?"

"Yes, sir. That's very generous of you, thank you. When do you see the first TAD starting, sir?"

"Well, I could send Lieutenant Commander Bramwell up to on Friday, which would give him the weekend to settle in; ready to report to you first thing Monday morning. I take it you can arrange accommodation?"

"Yes, sir. I'll have my Yeoman make a block booking for three calendar months at the VOQ at Anacostia, sir, starting Friday evening. And sir, Thank you."

"Don't worry about it Colonel, I'm glad to be able to help out!"

Mac replaced the phone in its cradle and reached out for the next folder in her 'In Tray', and opening it she saw the two print-outs she had requested earlier, Lieutenant Commander Megan Austin and Major Jack McBurney. McBurney she remembered from last year, but it did no harm to give his history a quick once over. An impressive win/lose ratio, and she was pretty sure that if the charges hadn't been dropped against Rabb last year, he would have won that case too. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat; she had been pissed off with Rabb over his behind the scenes investigation into Singer's love life, but she had never for an instant – well, not seriously, anyway – considered that he might have been guilty. So why hadn't she stood up for him? That was an easy question to answer, she had been good little marine, obeying orders… but then again that excuse had been permanently discredited at Nuremburg. Giving herself a mental shake, she considered wryly that if the prospect of having Jack McBurney here affected her so much, it was a damn' good thing that Rabb hadn't come back to JAG. Dismissing, albeit subconsciously, the idea that if Rabb had come back to JAG, then McBurney's presence probably wouldn't have been necessary.

Looking at the other print-out, she ran her eyes down Megan Austin's service history and the words 'Falls Church' leaped off the page at her. Austin had been at Falls Church back in '95 and '96. Of course! Meg Austin Rabb's partner before she, Mac, had been posted in to replace her!

Now, this could be interesting; if she remembered the scuttlebutt from all those years ago, Meg Austin had been more than just a partner to Rabb… so his ex-whatever would now be working with the prosecutor who had tried to convict him of attempted murder. Yep, it was going to be an interesting winter, all right. Still she had managed to separate professional from personal, alright, the relationship with Mic had been a mistake, but they'd got over his tactics at her own court martial, so she could demand the same from Austin and McBurney if the situation threatened to get out of hand.

xx-xx-xx-xx-xx

Captain Niall Richardson laced his podgy fingers together over the swell of his stomach, fortunately the Dress Blues jacket hid a multitude of sins, but he was going to have to make a serious effort to lose weight and get back in shape before it was time for Summer Whites again. But for now, there was something more important to consider… He slid a bulky envelope across the surface of the desk towards the younger officer standing at Parade Rest in front of him, "Bramwell, fresh orders for you. Starting from Monday morning you are TAD for one calendar month to JAG HQ at Falls Church, Virginia. You are to travel on Friday; Arrangements have been made for you to occupy a room at VOQ Anacostia. While TAD you will be under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, Marine Corps, who are the acting JAG. All that is covered in your orders, of course. What is not in your orders, is that you will be my eyes and ears at Falls Church. JAG seems to be on a collision course with some very nasty rocks, I want to know what's going on, I want to know who is responsible, who is doing what to whom, and most importantly, I want to know the second before there is any word of whom the next JAG might be! Understood?"

Lieutenant Commander Bramwell drew himself up into a brace and with his face impassive, he barked "Aye, aye, Sir!"

"That's all Bramwell, carry on!"

"Sir!"

Richardson watched him leave. Bramwell hadn't fooled him in the slightest. Oh, Bramwell would do as he was ordered – Richardson had too much on him for him to be able to doubt that. But Richardson had also seen the hastily stilled flicker of disgust in the younger man's eyes at being given unofficial orders to spy on fellow officers. Richardson shrugged, the boy would have to grow up sometime.

xx-xx-xx-xx-xx

Mac slid another folder into her 'Out Tray', and consulted her inner clock. It was already sixteen thirty three hours, and the stack of files in her 'In Tray' didn't seem to have diminished in the slightest. She'd been tied to her desk since oh six thirty seven hours this morning, and apart from four or five cups of coffee that Coates had brought her, she hadn't moved, and as her growling stomach abruptly reminded her, not even for lunch.

Ordinarily with this much work left on her desk, she would work through until it was all cleared, but for some reason, today had been more than ordinarily tiring and she made the decision that she'd work through until seventeen hundred, go home, order in her favourite meat lover's pizza, have a soak in a hot bath and …

"Yes, Coates! What is it this time!"

"SecNav on line one, ma'am!"

Mac sighed, that was probably her plan for the evening going up in smoke… "MacKenzie."

"Colonel, this is Sheffield, I want to see you in my office tomorrow morning at nine a.m. Bring a clear head and an empty notebook!"

"Of course, Mister Secretary, I am to report to your office at oh nine hundred hours tomorrow!" Mac couldn't resist rephrasing his carelessly worded instructions into military format. Dammit, the man was the head of the navy; he could at least learn to speak the part, even if he'd never so much as spent a single day in uniform!

"Good! Goodbye Colonel!"

Mac replaced the handset, propped her elbows on the desk and bowing her head, ran her fingers through her hair and then reaching for the intercom she pressed the 'call' button.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Coates, pass the word, Staff Call tomorrow is cancelled. I have to be at the Pentagon for oh nine hundred. If anybody needs me for anything urgent, I shall be in from oh seven hundred until oh eight fifteen. Got that?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Thank you!" And the hell with seventeen hundred hours! If anybody calls in the next thirteen minutes then it's too damn bad! Grabbing her purse and cover, she closed her office door behind her and drew a breath, "Coates, I'm securing for the day – my stomach's telling me my throat's been cut!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"See you in the morning, Coates!"

"Goodnight ma'am!"

xx-xx-xx-xx-xx

"Well?" Harriet demanded as she buckled her seat-belt and Bud turned the key in their minivan's ignition.

"Well what?" He asked turning a surprised face towards his wife.

"What did she…" and seeing the question already forming on his face, she amended her own question. "Did you speak to Commander Manetti about the Commander, and if so, what did she say?"

"Oh, yeah, I talked to her alright," Bud admitted, his head craned back over his shoulder as he reversed the clumsy vehicle out of the parking bay.

"And what did she say?"

"She said that the Commander has a new job, here in Washington, is unlikely to go haring off on any adventures, and the last time she saw him he was well and happy."

"And?"

"And nothing," Bud said as he engaged the drive. "When I pushed for more details, she said that although I had clearance, I didn't have need to know!"

"But Bud, if he's in a classified job in Washington, he must be working for the government again! And if he didn't stop is from calling him 'sir', then maybe he's back in the navy?"

"Maybe, he is, but that's a pretty slim thread to hang your hopes on. Harriet honey, ninety per cent of the jobs in Washington involve working for the government, besides if he is working for the government at least he's still going to get his pension. And you know how worried we were about that for him!"

"H'mm… You know sweetheart, I could never figure that out, what was the Admiral thinking when he processed the Commander's resignation?"

Bud had spent long hours trying to solve the same question, but he wasn't about to get into that conversation with Harriet. "I guess we'll never know, sweetie!"

xx-xx-xx-xx-xx

It was gone twenty three hundred hours when Harm quietly entered the still, silent, darkened apartment. Toeing off his shoes just inside the door, he stripped off his uniform and hung it on the hanger left for that purpose on the coat rack, feeling that a crisply ironed shirt was already waiting for him for the morning.

Briefly he considered the idea of warming up whatever had been left for him in the oven, but then decided that he simply wasn't hungry, so crossing as quietly as he could to the bathroom, he stripped of his shirt and boxers and stepped under the shower. Quickly showered, he brushed his teeth and wrapping a towel around his hips, he switched off the bathroom light and opened the door to see a soft glow of light coming from the kitchen area.

Catherine stood at the stove, wrapped in his bathrobe, the electric kettle just coming to the boil and two mugs standing by. As he drew nearer, she poured the boiling water into the mugs and the scent of chamomile tea invaded his nostrils, and stepping close behind her he rested his hands gently on each side of her belly and leaning forward he used his nose to push her hair away from the point of her neck where it joined her shoulder and gently kissing and nibbling on it whispered, "Hi there beautiful, I thought I told you not to wait up?"

Catherine twisted in his arms to face him, and used her hand to pull his face down to hers to kiss him slowly and gently. "We did just as we were told sir, we were good little sailor girls, and we were both in bed over an hour ago!"

"So what are you doing up now?"

"I made a discovery," Catherine smiled up at him suddenly misty-eyed, "I discovered that I can't sleep if you're not in bed with me!"

Harm smiled and stepped back, leaning against the breakfast bar while Catherine facing him, leaned back against the work-top. Both cradled their mugs of tea and smiled at each other as they drank. Neither noticed the silently closing door to Mattie's room, as the teenager crawled back under her covers, her face crinkling in a satisfied goofy grin.