10
The return journey to London had been accomplished quickly and in a comfortable silence and Harm had dismissed Julia for the weekend as soon as she had delivered him to his quarters in the senior officers' row of base housing. He let himself into the silent and empty house and was struck anew at the perversity of a military that couldn't provide adequate base housing for enlisted personnel, despite its own requirement that single or unaccompanied E-4s and below lived in BEQ, yet provided a four-bedroom two bathroom house for a single man just because he had reached the dizzy heights of O-6.
Dumping his sea-bag just inside the door, he wandered into the kitchen and made himself a very much needed mug of decent coffee, before mentally girding his loins and setting about the weekend's domestic chores.
Monday morning found him still vaguely unsettled, and with his thoughts drifting more and more frequently towards Captain Gillian Shephard of the Royal Artillery. They had parted on friendly terms, even if not exactly friends. But, yes, that was something he'd like to explore: a friendship with Gill Shephard.
But even that bout of self-analysis hadn't done anything to calm him, overwhelmingly conscious as he was that today, later today by his reckoning, A J Chegwidden would be standing up as his attorney in front of the Blacksburg Family Court to argue that Tom Johnson should be stripped of his parental rights, on the grounds of child abandonment, and that Harmon David Rabb should be permitted to adopt the female child Mathilda Grace Johnson.
His introspection was broken by the insistent buzz of his intercom, "Yes?"
"Lieutenant Sullivan and Tierney to see you, sir!" Harm frowned, there seemed to be a hint of laughter in Yeoman Two Martinez' voice. He would need to speak with her about that later. "Send 'em in!" he waited for the rap on the door frame and called "Enter!"
The two lieutenants marched in perfect lock step across the carpet and came to a drill field precise halt in front of his desk.
"Lieutenants Sullivan and Tierney, sir!" Tierney rapped out. "Thank you for seeing us, sir!"
"Alright, get on with..." Harm's voice faded into silence as he did a classic double take at them in each in turn. Tierney was definitely sporting a black eye, while it looked as if Sullivan had a bruise on her cheek, imperfectly covered by concealer.
"What the hell!" Harm exploded, "have you two finally lost your minds as well as your tempers and had a physical fight?!"
"Yessir!" from Tierney.
"Nosir!" from Sullivan.
"Dammit! Make up your minds!"
"Well, it was a fight sir," Sullivan said, shooting a cautionary sideways glance at Tierney as she spoke, "but it was all regular and in order, with a referee. And... it was my fault, sir!"
"How do you make that out?" Harm glared at her.
"Um... I was winding Lieutenant Tierney up, sir, about how martial arts were more effective than boxing, and I kept on at him until he told me to put up or shut up... so I challenged him to a bout, sir. His boxing skills against my kick-boxing style... sir!"
Harm blinked, he certainly hadn't been expecting that, "So it was all set up regular, and in the gym?"
"Yessir!" The response came in chorus.
"With a referee and time keeper, and seconds?"
"Yessir! The referee was Staff Sergeant Haldane from the Embassy Security Detail, sir!""
"H'mph!" And although he didn't really want to, Harm couldn't resist asking, "And who won?"
"Uh... nobody, sir," Tierney said.
"The judges declared it a tie after three rounds, sir!" Sullivan said.
"Alright... I'll let it slide, this time!" Harm fixed an iron hard stare on each of them, "But this will be the first and last time this happens. I do not approve of men and women in the ring at the same time, no matter how General Cresswell might view the matter! Is that understood?"
"Sir, yessir!" rang out crisply from each officer.
Harm sat back and relaxed slightly, "Alright, that wasn't what you came to see me about, was it?"
"Uh... not quite sir," Tierney answered with a nervous glance at Sullivan, "You see sir, once we'd got the aggression out into the open, we sort of figured out that we've got more in common with each other than we have against each other. So... after the match, we... uh... went out for a drink, sir. And we had a really nice evening, and we sort of figured, that as we enjoyed each... other's... company... so..." Tierney's delivery slowed down and he stuttered to a halt as he became aware of the gimlet like stare Harm had concentrated on him.
Sullivan shot him a swift glance, and unconsciously she took a half pace forward, "To cut a long story short, sir. We decided that we would like to enjoy more of each other's company, so we've come to inform you sir, that we intend to start dating."
"I see..." Harm had to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent a shout of incredulous laughter. "Very well. I can't prevent you from dating, you are both of the same grade, you both have about the same time in grade, and neither of you reports to the other. You realise that from this moment on you can neither partner nor oppose each other on investigations or in the courtroom?" 'Probably to Commander Moreley's relief' Harm silently reflected.
"Yessir!"
"Good. Furthermore, no matter what the state of your... relationship, I expect you to maintain full military decorum at all times while on duty, whether in or out of uniform. Understood?"
"Yessir!"
"Good! Because if I even begin to suspect that your relationship has any effect on the good order and discipline of my office, my wrath will be great and the punishment condign! Understood?"
"Sir, yessir!"
"Alright..." Harm blew out a long breath, "Dismissed!"
"Aye, aye, sir!" again in chorus, and again with drill field precision the two about-faced and left the office, Tierney once again holding open the door for Sullivan, but Harm noticed with a grin that this time she smiled rather than scowled at him.
The unexpected injection of good humour bore him up through the rest of the morning and even through lunch time. His lightened mood even enabled him to plough through the mass of files that appeared in his in-tray during lunch, Martinez having taken advantage of his half hour absence to add to his workload for the day, until just before sixteen forty five hours, as he was preparing to wind down for the day his telephone rang.
"Yes?"
"Sir, there's an A J Chegwidden on line..."
"Put him through!" Harm almost snapped.
"Hello, Harm?"
"Sir... uh... I mean A J... how... how did it go..."
"Mixed results, son. Johnson lost his parental rights, but Mattie's been made a ward of the Commonwealth of Virginia, but with custody granted to you until she reaches the age of eighteen, or she petitions the court to be placed elsewhere, whichever comes sooner."
"Well, that's good, isn't it?"
"Well, yes and no. Mattie has to remain in the states, unless and until we can appeal the judgement, and I've already started on that. I understand you're coming across for the holiday weekend?"
"Yes... yes, I am..." Harm agreed in a somewhat crestfallen voice.
"Don't take it too badly to heart, Harm. I'll see you on Saturday at the Roberts, and we'll go through the appeal strategy then, OK? And don't get too downhearted, we knew this was going to be a tough case going in, and at least we've made some progress!"
"Yeah, well forgive me if I'm not exactly turning cartwheels for joy, but thanks for calling and thanks for all you're doing..."
"Yeah, bye, Harm." The former SeAL decided to end the conversation at that point and leave Captain Rabb to find his own resolution.
"Bye, A J". Harm replaced the receiver in its cradle and steepled his fingers. He was bitterly disappointed that the court hadn't allowed him to adopt Mattie today, but as A J had said, it was a tough case and his absence, although on duty, wouldn't have helped, at that instant he determined that come hell or high water, he would be present in Blacksburg at the appeal!
At the same time in McLean, Virginia, A J Chegwidden turned his attention to the legal pad in front of him and continued to marshal his thoughts as he prepared the groundwork for the appeal.
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx
That Wednesday afternoon Bombardier Walker almost staggered out of the Adjutant's office. Of all the thoughts that had run through his mind for the possible reasons for the summons to RHQ the idea that he'd been awarded a gong was nowhere near anywhere on his list!. 'The Military Cross... 'king hell!' he mused in bewilderment, 'All I did was keep meself from getting killed. I wasn't being brave at all, I was just shit scared!'.
"You alright, Bombardier?" RSM Crowther cast a shrewd look at the normally cheerful but currently subdued Junior NCO.
"Yes, sir, thank you," Johnny managed with a weak version of his usual grin, "Just sort of took me by surprise, is all."
"It shouldn't have, son," the usually gruff and stern RSM replied, "You deserved it lad, well done!"
Those few words from the Regiment's first soldier sunk in where the more politely phrased, but no less sincere, congratulations of the CO hadn't quite penetrated.
"Just make sure that you are immaculate on parade when the day comes!" RSM Crowther cautiond him sternly, "Because I shall be inspecting you, personally!"
Somehow the return of the RSM to his normal, less kindly persona snapped Johnny back to reality. "Yes, sir! I shall even polish the backs of my bomb plates!"
"You make sure you do, Bombardier, now fall out and get back to work!"
"Yessir!" Johnny said, not quite daring to grin at the RSM.
"First time, I've ever seen Bombardier Walker at a loss for words, sir!" The Chief Clerk remarked to the RSM.
"Well, it's not every day that even a cocky little so and so like Walker gets the MC, is it, Chief?" the RSM replied as he turned to head back to his own office.
"No... but I'd love to be in the NAAFI bar tonight, after the award is published in Part One's!" the Chief said.
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx
Julia squealed with excitement, "Oh, Johnny! Of course I'll be there on the twenty third, I wouldn't miss it for the world!"
"And we're still OK for this weekend?" Johnny asked a trifle breathlessly.
"Yes. I'm all set. I meet you at the Red Lion in Salisbury on Saturday, I've got to take Captain Rabb to the airport on Friday evening and then I need to see Corporal Morrison in hospital before I'm free, is that OK?"
"Well, not really... but duty is duty. I'll see you on Saturday!"
"OK!"
She clicked off her cell – or mobile as she was learning to call it in the UK – and sunk back on her bed smiling fondly, 'The Military Cross, my hero... my Johnny... Wait a minute! Where the hell did that come from? Still it has got quite a nice ring to it...'
Her smile grew wider and she gave a deep contented sigh before she turned to Rocky, her ancient, battered stuffed toy raccoon that usually shared her bed.
"Looks like you've got competition on the horizon," she warned him.
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx
Harm took a final look around his office; his desk was clear, even his in-tray was empty, and for a brief moment he felt a glow of satisfaction, but even as he looked at all the signs that he was finally up to date with his workload he knew that by the time he returned on Wednesday there would another pile of paperwork, of monumental proportions for him to deal with.
Still that would be Wednesday, today was Friday, and he had a plane to catch! Patting his suit jacket's inside pocket he reassured himself that his own passport was there, together with Mattie's, and picking up his sea-bag and garment bag, he walked through the door into Julia Martinez's office.
"All set, Yeoman Two?" he asked.
"All set, sir!" Julia answered, "The car's downstairs and under the watchful eye of the security detachment!" Like Harm, Julia was dressed in civilian clothes, in her case a pair of charcoal grey tailored pants and a neatly ironed cream cotton blouse, open at the throat to reveal a slim gold chain around her neck.
"Good, let's go! And no, I can carry my own bags!" he added firmly as Julia stretched out a hand to relieve him of at least one of his burdens.
"You do know the route to the airport, don't you?" Harm asked as, contrary to protocol, he settled himself into the front passenger seat of the Navy sedan.
"Yes, sir, down to Knightsbridge to pick up the A4, then west to the M4 and the turn off to Heathrow is just before the M25 interchange. Even I can't miss it, sir!" Julia responded.
"If you say you know the route, that's good enough for me, Yeoman Two," Harm said mildly, but with just the hint of reproof in his voice.
"Yes, sir." Julia paused for a moment, "Sorry, sir".
"OK... now, let's go over this driving thing one more time, so I can get it fixed in my head. You applied for a provisional licence, took a concentrated driving course, culminating in a written test and then a practical driving test, right?"
"Yes, sir," Julia agreed as she smoothly accelerated through a narrowing gap between a Transit van and a bendy-bus.
"And it was all on your own dime, right?"
"Right, sir."
"But it's not strictly necessary, right?"
"No, sir. If you hold a valid US driving licence, and a Navy driving permit for the UK, then you are cleared to drive in the UK, but it's much easier to get a rental with a UK licence.
"OK, thanks again for that. Now, this weekend, once you've delivered me to the airport, you are stood down until zero eight hundred hours Tuesday morning, but I'd like you to deliver my uniform to the cleaner's when you get back into London, and pick it up on your way in on Tuesday, please."
"Of course, sir!"
"And you have got plans for the weekend, I take it?" Harm asked, not wanting any of his staff to be moping around at a loose end over the holiday, but to his surprise, Julia blushed scarlet.
Her eyes firmly fixed on the road as they approached Chiswick roundabout, she answered, "O, yes, sir! I'm going down to Woolwich this evening to see Corporal Morrison, and then tomorrow I'm taking a trip out to the country, but I'll be back on Monday for the staff picnic; I'm second base and fourth hitter for the squids and jarheads' softball game!"
"Well, take it easy, I don't want to find you in hospital when I get back!"
"No sir, I'll leave getting injured to the Marines – they have a higher pain threshold," Julia risked a joke.
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx
Gill flopped into the so-called easy chair, that together with the bed, bedside table, chest of drawers and wardrobe made up the furnishings of her room, and toed her shoes off, sighing as the pressure on her feet eased.
Her first week in London had been... well, interesting was as good a word for it as any she supposed. Her room in The King's Troop Mess was slightly larger than the room she had been allocated in Three Eight's Mess, and with the exception of the adjutant, who had been a bit stiff when she'd paid him the obligatory courtesy call, the other officers of the Troop after some initial wariness had become friendly enough when they learned that she rode, and she had been almost instantaneously invited to 'ride out' when her duties permitted, an offer she had gratefully accepted with the spoken caveat that it probably wouldn't be for a couple of weeks while she got settled not only to her new quarters but also her new job. She also kept a further caveat to herself; she hadn't ridden for a couple of years and she knew that for the first week or two long unused muscles would be howling a protest.
Still, just sitting around wasn't going to buy the baby a new bonnet, she sighed, and reluctantly picked up the handful of mail that had been deposited in her pigeon hole in the Mess lobby. The monthly catalogue from that damned on-line clothing company. She had forgotten just how many times she asked and then demanded to be taken off their mailing list. Well, that was straight into the waste paper basket, a card from David, post marked Dubai. He hadn't said much on his last leave, but she got the feeling that his ship, HMS Defiant, a brand new type 45 or 'D' Class destroyer, was carrying out anti-piracy patrols in the waters off Somalia.
She grinned as she read the scribbled message on the back of the card, the usual, I-am-well-hope-you-are-too. Brief and uninformative the card may have been, but at least Lieutenant Commander Shephard was finally making some effort to communicate with his family.
And now, the buff envelope with the Three Eight Regiment rubber stamp in the bottom left hand corner. Sighing again, she had been expecting her Mess Bill, but hadn't thought it would have caught up with her quite so quickly, she slit the envelope open and fearing the worst, opened the single sheet of paper it contained. As she read, her face cracked open in a huge grin, Bombardier Walker had been informed of his medal and would have it presented to him on a formal parade on Saturday, 23rd July 2005, and the letter signed by Colonel Mike was her invitation to the parade together with the offer of overnight accommodation on the 22nd.
Gill glanced at her watch, although she already knew that it was too late to catch her former Battery Clerk still at his desk, so she made a mental note to call him first thing on Monday morning to congratulate him. But there was still one person she could call...
"Hello, Sue? It's Gill. Is the news about Bombardier Walker general knowledge yet?"
"Gilly!" Sue's squeal of joyful recognition was enough to make Gill wince and hastily pull the 'phone away from her ear, "Lovely to hear from you so soon! Yes, the Bombardier's award was published on Part One Orders Wednesday afternoon, just after Colonel Mike told him about the award!" Sue giggled, "Poor Bombardier Walker, he positively tottered out of Tony Latham's office, absolute shell shock!"
"Well, he deserves it, Sue!" Gill told her friend in an uncompromising tone of voice.
"God yes! Absolutely no argument there! But the expression on his face was just so funny, and he was absolutely lost for words..."
"Yes, I suppose it could have been," Gill replied, "but damn, I would love to have witnessed Johnny Walker lost for words!"
"Not a usual occurrence, then, I take it?" Sue asked.
"Never been known to happen before!" Gill grinned.
"Oh well... but tell me, how's the new job? How are you settling in at the Wood? Have you managed to ride out yet? And have you called your dishy Yankee sailor and told him you're in town and that you're available? And are you coming down on the twenty third for Bombardier Walker's presentation?" Sue asked, and despite the miles separating them, Gill was certain she could see the mischievous grin on Sue's face.
Nevertheless, Gill drew a deep breath before she answered, "The new job is fine, we work in civvies, so until I get know who's who, it's a bit difficult to tell who I should be calling 'sir' and who should be calling me 'ma'am'. The Wood is fine, the accommodation is pretty much the same as in the regiment, and the chaps here are very nice, but awfully horsey, and the left section commander is Roberta Humphries, so I'm not the only female in the mess, but she's about the horsiest of them all, as well as being all jolly hockey sticks. No, I haven't had time to ride out yet, although I've had plenty of invitations." Gill mentally crossed her fingers as she took another deep breath and continued, "Now... let's get this straight once and for all, please,Sue. I have not called Captain Rabb. He is not my sailor, and I've told you before, I do not think he is particularly dishy. It is none of his business where I am, and I am definitely not available to him – or to anybody else! Got it? And yes, I am coming down for the parade, I wouldn't miss it for the world, especially as Colonel Mike has just been so kind as to send me a formal invitation. And when I do come down, you and I are going to have words on the subject of you harping on about Captain Rabb!"
"Oh, I hear you, alright," Sue conceded, "But I still say that the lady doth protest too much!"
"Oooh!" Gill's cry of frustration could probably have been heard in Tidworth, even without the 'phone.
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx
Harm settled back in his seat in the first class compartment of the 757. The airplane was at maximum capacity, and he wasn't at all surprised that the vast majority of the passengers were Americans, all, he supposed, like himself, heading stateside for the holiday weekend. Martinez had been compelled to use his cherished sky miles to upgrade to comfort economy class, but it had been his unashamed flirting with the pretty blonde check-in operator that had gotten him bumped up to first class.
He'd tried to watch the in-flight movie, but just couldn't get interested in the puerile plot and the poor direction and worse acting and had eventually given it up as a bad job, and removing his head phones he had closed his eyes and pretended to doze while he considered what his reception might be once he had landed at Dulles.
Given that it was going to be a seven hour flight and take-off had been at twenty hundred then he'd be landing at zero three hundred UK time, or allowing for the time difference at about twenty two hundred local, so he knew Bud would be there to meet him, he was, after all staying at the Roberts' for the weekend, but he expected that Harriet would have stayed at home with the children. It was going to be a vastly different reception from his previous arrivals at Dulles, this time there would be no Mac to greet him. With a grimace he tore his mind away from thoughts of Mac and found to his surprise that they were settling on Gill Shephard.
A wry grin crossed his face, what was with him and women in uniform, and not even naval uniform at that! Still, she was, apart from the uniform totally different from Mac. Once they had gotten over themselves and cleared up the misunderstanding she had proved to have a dry and somewhat self-deprecating sense of humour, although he still wasn't quite used to the apparently casual attitude she, and the other officers with whom he'd spoken, had to their profession, but at the same time went about their duties with a slick, smooth quiet competence that couldn't fail to impress. He'd also liked the way Colonel Mike had treated his officers and the way they had treated him. Again it was understated, without the formality, or even worse, the forced informality he had witnessed in so many O clubs on different stations both back home and on foreign stations.
Another grin crossed his face, this time of pure amusement as he tried to picture the effect on both parties if he could somehow magically transport Three Eight Regiment's officers en masse to say Norfolk Naval Station O Club, or Andrews Naval Facility O Cub. A slight chuckle shook his frame as he suddenly realised he was beginning to think like Hank Morgan. Mark Twain's famous time-travelling Connecticut Yankee, and began to wonder had he been acting in a like manner, and if so, then it was no surprise that Gill Shephard had been a little wary of him when they first met.
'Damn! Why do my thoughts keep circling back to Gill Shephard? - Well, she's attractive, smart, witty, amusing, fun... Yeah, but she's also ten or more years younger than me, she's an officer in a foreign army – some three rungs lower on the ladder too! And if the regs made it tough for Mac and I how would it be for Gill and I? Hold on, what's this Mac and I and Gill and I? I knew Mac for nine years, and I've only spoken to Gill once on the 'phone and then had only two days in her company. Crap, if after all that time Mac and I couldn't make it work... Gill... well...she's just a nodding acquaintance Rabb, that's all! Just put her out of your mind and suck it up. After all, she didn't even tell me she was being posted to London, and if she'd wanted to continue my acquaintance, and maybe deepen it to friendship she could have done. Although...'
In a moment of perversity he was grateful that his beginning to become gloomy thoughts were interrupted by the 'Ping' of the PA Speaker warning the passengers that they were beginning the descent to Dulles, along with the usual warnings about seat belts and seat position.
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx
It was the usual interminable delay as the passengers cleared baggage return and then Customs and Immigration, exacerbated in Harm's impatiently fretting mind by the grizzling of a tired and travel-weary toddler kept up way past his usual bed-time, but finally the Customs Officer, after subjecting it to intense scrutiny, handed him back his passport, with a brief, professional smile and a disinterested, "Welcome home, Mister Rabb."
The funny thing was, it didn't really feel like home now. He'd sold the lease on the two apartments near Union Station. So he had no 'home' in DC these days, and he had left La Jolla twenty three years ago, and although Trish and Frank were still there, it wasn't really his home any longer, either, so where was his home? He shrugged away the vaguely troubling thought as he saw Bud Roberts 's huge grin of welcome, and felt his own answering smile spread across his face, which turned into a huge grin of his own as he spied the slim figure clad in tan slacks and a crimson V-neck sweater standing next to Bud.
"Bud, good to see you again!" He grinned taking Bud's proffered hand and gripping it fiercely.
"Good to see you again, too, sir!" Bud enthused returning Harm's grip equally fiercely.
Harm dropped Bud's hand and turned to the other half of the reception committee, "It's good to see you again too, Jen. You're looking good."
"Thank you, sir," Jen replied, "Welcome back..." he voice trailed of as she saw Harm's hand extended towards her, "Sir... permission to hug the Captain?"
Harm blinked in surprise, it had seemed that the intimacy that had grown between them while they acted as joint guardians for Mattie had diminished with time and distance, especially when Jen had moved out of the apartment after the run in with her former friend Pia, and that woman's attempt to frame Jen for murder, and they had never been hugging types but he was totally unable to resist the appeal in Jen's deep brown eyes, "Permission granted, of course!" he replied, and was taken into a short, fierce embrace, and heard the whispered words in his ear, "Sir, it so good to see you again!"
Bud coughed in slight embarrassment. Thanks to Harriet he had become aware that the Petty Officer had a crush on his friend and mentor, but this was the only occasion he had seen any first-hand evidence of that crush. "Shall we get your bags loaded and be on our way, sir?" he asked. "A J pestered us both, uh... Harriet and me... to stay up to say hi to his favourite Godfather... and it's well past his regular bedtime, and maybe we'd..."
Bud's voice died off and he turned faintly pink with embarrassment as he became aware that Jen was biting her bottom lip and looking down at her feet in an effort to avoid laughing outright, while Harm was regarding him with a tolerant grin.
Bud managed a reluctant grin of his own, "Well... we don't want to stand here all night do we?"
Harm caught a sudden look between Bud and Jen, it was quick, only a flash, and it was surreptitious. 'They're up to something', but, "No we don't... especially as it's nearly zero four hundred by my body clock!"
"Then we definitely do need to get going, sir!" Jen grinned.
It was the work of a few minutes to cross the parking lot to the Roberts' minivan, load Harm's sea-bag and for all three to strap themselves in before Bud turned the key in the ignition and knocked the gear selector into 'drive'.
Harm nearly nodded off to sleep during the half hour or so it took to reach the Roberts' neo-colonial house in Alexandria, and it took a gentle shake from Jen to alert him to the fact that had arrived. With a sheepish grin, Harm shook himself awake, and declining Bud's offer to carry his sea-bag, he followed Bud and Jen into the house.
His entry into the family room was the signal for a sleepy blond tornado to burst into life as it hurled itself off the couch, straight at the visitor with an excited and happy scream of "Uncle Harm you came!"
Harm dropped his sea-bag and then dropped into a crouch, "Hiya champ!" he greeted his Godson with a hug as the six year old wound his arms around Harm's neck, "How ya doin'?"
A J kept his fingers laced together around the back of Harm's neck but leaned back at the full extent of his arms, his own blue eyes, 'so much like Harriet's!' locked on Harm's own, "I'm doing good, Uncle Harm," and then his grin grew even broader, if that were possible, "But I'm doing even better now that you're here!"
"Uh-huh, but you do know it's only for a short visit, don't you big guy?" Harm said gravely.
A J nodded, his expression becoming serious, "But mommy and daddy say you'll be home pern... pernantly... in a couple of years."
"Perm-anent-ly" Bud coached from the sidelines.
"Perm-anent-tly," AJ repeated obediently and then frowned, "Does that mean forever?"
"It does, A J, it does," Harm said, as he gently disengaged the child's arms from around his neck, "How about letting me up so I can say 'hi' to your mommy?"
"OK, " A J said laconically, "But we can talk more later, OK?"
"Sure thing!" Harm grinned, and standing he turned towards , "Hello Harriet, you're looking fine, real fine!"
Harriet blinked back tears of happiness, "Just a little fatter than I used to be," she observed, "But I swear you've lost weight, sir!"
"Harriet" Harm said in a voice full of reproof, but with a smile, "How many times..."
Harriet smiled through her tears, "Oh da... drat!" she corrected herself with a sidelong glance at her son, "Just force of habit, I guess, si... Oh! Harm!"
"Oh, come here," Harm grinned opening his arms and enfolding her in a hug she returned enthusiastically as she smiled up at him, "It's wonderful to see you here again, Harm!"
"It's wonderful to be here, Harriet!" Harm replied smiling warmly at her in return.
"Hey! Red light, Captain!" Bud said cheerfully, echoing his own words from his and Harriet's wedding day, "Besides, there's someone else you need to say hello to!"
"Don't tell me you've kept Jimmy up this la..." Harm began as he released Harriet and turned towards Bud, but then his words faded to silence as his jaw dropped open. For a moment he could hardly believe his eyes, and then as they filled with tears, he almost flew across the room and dropped to his knees, "Mattie!" he said brokenly.
"Hi, sailor," the teenager whispered, her own eyes overflowing, and reaching both arms towards him from her wheelchair, "How about lowering altitude?"
Harm leaned in close and wrapped his arms around her so tightly that she gave a little squeak of surprise. "Oh, da.., darn, I'm sorry squirt I didn't mean to hurt you!" he apologised.
"You didn't, just startled me a little," Mattie denied, and then the dam broke, "Oh Harm... no-one's called me that since you went to England!"
Harm couldn't say anything he just held her close while she sobbed, and let his own tears fall into her wild mane of copper curls.
He held her in silence, rocking backwards and forwards until the storm had passed, and releasing her he squatted back on his heels, and with a catch in his voice gently teased her, "So... I thought you'd be glad to see me... why all the tears?"
"You big galoot," she sniffled, "Of course I'm happy to see you! Ain't you learned the difference between sad tears and happy tears, yet?"
"I'm beginning to!" he agreed, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and handing it to her, before remembering and turning glared at Jennifer Coates and the Roberts, "You... you... all of you.. I'll... I'll... well, I'll think of something! This is one hell... heck of a surprise welcome home!"
Bud and Harriet just looked at each other and grinned, Harriet smiling through her tears, leaving it to an equally tearful but mistily smiling Jen Coates to explain.
"We... we were told by the doctors a couple of days ago, that depending on how Mattie did on her tests yesterday there was a chance, but only a chance that they would be discharging her from hospital today. We didn't want to tell you because we didn't want to get your hopes up only to be disappointed if it didn't happen. And then they didn't reach a decision until fifteen hundred today, by which time we figured you were already in the air..."
"Oh..." suddenly feeling very foolish, Harm got to his feet and smiling down at Mattie, said "Bravo Zulu squirt!"
Mattie grinned up at him, "Well, I gotta start making some progress if I want to pass the physical for the academy next year!"
"Hey, you'll do it Mats!" Jen chimed in.
"Darn straight I will!" Mattie confirmed with all her usual bravado, but Harriet noticed that she was still clinging tightly to Harm's hand.
"Come and sit down, si...uh... Harm," she said with an apologetic shrug, "Here, if you sit at this end of the couch, then Mattie can get her chair in beside you! I'll go and fix us all, except you, young man," she pointedly told AJ, "A mug of chocolate, but it's way past your bedtime! So off you go!"
"Before you do, though, Champ," Harm interrupted, "Did you know about Mattie?"
"Yes," A J replied solemnly, "But mommy said it had to be kept secret!"
"And you did too, didn't you!" Harriet exclaimed proudly, "But now, A J Roberts, it's bed-time!"
A J nodded and climbed down from the couch, he had been fighting his heavy eyes for some time now, but before he finally went, he turned to Harm, "You are still gonna be here in the morning, aren't you?"
"Sure am, buddy," Harm reassured the youngster, and reaching out his hand he gently ruffled A J's hair.
"Uh huh... 'night mommy, 'night Jen, 'night Mattie... night daddy... 'night Uncle Harm..."
A chorus of 'good nights' followed him as he made his weary way to the hall way and the stairs, where he was overtaken by Bud, "Come on big feller, I'll come and tuck you in!"
Harriet disappeared into the kitchen to make the promised hot chocolate, leaving Harm alone with his two girls, as he had long ago come to think of Mattie and Jen. "A bit like old times, this," he remarked as he smiled at both of them.
"M'mm," Mattie agreed as she rubbed her thumb over the back of Ham's hand and grinned up at him.
"Not quite the same, though, is it?" Jen said quietly from her armchair.
"Oh, how so?" Harm queried.
"Well, you're my boss now... so..." she shrugged, "that's gonna change things between us all."
"Jen, you're kinda like my big sister, and that is never gonna change, so you – you and Harm are just gonna have to work out how I get to keep you both in my life! Harm, you have no idea just how much Jen being here for me meant when you weren't..."
"Oh, squirt, squirt, you have no idea how much I wanted to be here for you... but the Navy..."
"You mean that mean General!" Mattie nearly spat, "I thought when you got a new boss things might be a bit better for you, but he's a bigger hard-ass than that mean, bald old jerk that was there before him!"
"Mattie Grace! Language!"
"Can't help it," she huffed, "just the thought of him gets me so mad. I mean how would he like it if it was his precious Cammie that was paralysed and in hospital?" Mattie demanded aggressively.
"Probably not a lot," Harm was compelled to admit, and shot a glare across the room at Jen who desperately trying not to burst out laughing at Mattie's forthright manner of expressing her feelings, "You are not helping, Jennifer Coates!" he accused her.
"Oh... it's the look on your face," she finally gave in to her giggles, "Priceless! Absolutely priceless!"