"One night in Red Rock Mesa"
A/N: AU. This is a fictional story, in a fictional Alternative Universe, about fictional characters who entertained us in a fictional TV series between 1995 and 2005. Mike. Characters borrowed with love and appreciation for the great team who brought us "JAG"; may your following careers blossom.
A/N: AU: "they aren't mine: I'm just playing with them - apart from any fictional character created by myself". Feel free to PM me if you spot any typos - my goal is 100% error-free. Feedback and comments are also welcome. Your opinions, critiques (and requests as PMs) are always helpful - and welcomed.
A/N: Published 29-JUL-2023: Another short story in the "Don't get too comfortable - you're gonna be working together" Alternative Universe. As you will know if you read my stories, I don't usually "ship" Harm and Mac. This idea formed a while ago and I am now ready to push it out into the light of day for your enjoyment (well, I hope you will enjoy it!)
A/N – link to Canon Episodes: "We the people" (S02Ep01, airdate 03JAN1997): "Full Engagement" (S02Ep08, airdate 21FEB1997): "Washington Holiday" (S02Ep09, airdate 28FEB1997)
Characters from FFNET – Harmon Rabb jr; Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie: Matt O'Hara; Meghan O'Hara: Diane Schonke.
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Friday 3rd January 1997, 19:36hrs
Rattlesnake Cafe site, Red Rock Mesa AZ, USA
Night in the desert had fallen like a curtain. Although the stars were out in large numbers, the glow-worm lights of the rented truck had barely illuminated the road as she had driven across the drowned landscape with her new colleague in the passenger seat. They had finally reached the long-abandoned Rattlesnake Cafe site without incident - although the truck was now down to one wiper blade. The moon was still hiding behind the clouds which marked the outgoing weather front. In the words of the old British poem: "The moon was a ghostly galleon, riding on storm-tossed seas."
It had been a long day, crossing the Continental USA for the case following their initial meeting in the White House Rose Garden.
Since she had first met Harm that morning on the edge of the Rose Garden with Roberts and the Admiral, she was still getting to know him. She was beginning to work out what made this tall, good-looking aviator tick.
She still wasn't sure why he had frozen when he had first caught sight of her, apart from the "No, she was Navy" response. "She who?" Mac had wondered, swiftly dismissing the thought as non-productive. He - obviously - would have had a past love-life - as did she (and she was careful about what she revealed and to whom).
From their time together in that wreck of a truck, barrelling across the storm-soaked night-time Arizona landscape, she still wasn't comforted by his reply - "not any more" - when she had asked "So I guess I have a twin out there?"
She had to admit that exhaustion was setting in, both physical and emotional. Her emotions were triggered by thoughts of her Uncle Matt - who had truly saved her as a 19-year-old, helping her to turn the corner after the alcoholic lifestyle established with Eddie and then Christopher Ragle. At least Chris Ragle hadn't nearly killed her - an improvement upon the car-crash with Eddie. Despite the marriage in Las Vegas, Ragle had been hauled off to jail before the marriage had been consummated.
Maybe her judgement was off - but the rumpled bed in the load-space of the truck was beginning to look very attractive. In fairness, everything looked clean.
She needed to relieve herself, so headed off into the desert with a small shovel which had been found behind the seats in the cab. Having finished, she discovered that the elastic in her panties had just failed - and the spare sets were in the other go-bag which was in the back of the Government rental car back at the gas station, waiting for Webb to track it (and their cell-phones) down.
Ho hum! She looked at her her white bicycle shorts, which had been part of her go-bag - then decided to keep them fresh until the morning.
She pulled her blue sun-dress back down - hiding her assets and ready to address her colleague regarding the sleeping arrangements.
"OK, let's hunker down here and start on Uncle Matt at first light - I am bushed."
Harm nodded. "OK Major - left side or right side?"
"What - you're not sleeping in the cab, Commander?"
His chuckle betrayed both cynicism and (slightly) hurt pride. "Major, I've punched out of a jet fighter at near-zero altitude and touch-down velocity; I've landed ass-first and bone-breakingly hard on the deck of an aircraft carrier and I am so god-damned lucky to be walking again after four months of physical therapy. Long story short, I need a flat surface to lie on - and the desert floor won't cut it because of the rattle-snake advertisement that *you* brought me to- fair enough Major?" He tried flashing his "Flyboy" smile.
She shrugged, and for the first time since they met, Harm finally saw the smile that she had carefully hidden, during their introduction and the rain-washed drive across the desert. He sighed and looked deep into her eyes, with a re-assuring smile.
"Look Major, if our cover is that I'm your boyfriend, then sharing the bed area is logical and I have no intention of annoying a Marine with an unwanted advance."
He stood up - then paused: "Ah shoot!"
"What's wrong?"
"Sorry Major, I've just split the zipper on my only pair of shorts."
"Must be an omen" she thought, before audibly sighing and turning her back on him for a moment, as he struggled to adjust himself.
"OK Major, your modesty is safe again."
"Thank the Lord the wind isn't ruffling the hem of my dress."
"Oh brother - you know Commander, this could be a very long night."
His warped smile flashed again - and she felt a sudden unexpected stirring in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, she realised that she had spoken the truth earlier whilst she was driving: "It's a nice smile and I'm sure that it gets you want you want, but I don't know you Commander."
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"True - but we can work together and save your Uncle Matt any more pain. But frankly I would rather start tomorrow - around dawn - after a good night's sleep. Look Major, we've come a long way today (physically and emotionally) since we met - and there is another day tomorrow. So, left or right?"
She decided to give in gracefully: "OK Commander: with a choice, I'll go in here on the left."
"Thanks Major - Mac. I'll step out to the side while you build your nest."
"Thanks Commander - Harm."
He allowed her a few minutes to settle, then she felt the truck sag to the right as his long body crawled into the load-space and he shut the rear hatch.
"Sleep well Mac; I hope for good things tomorrow."
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Friday 3rd January 1997, 23:59hrs
Rattlesnake Cafe site, Red Rock Mesa AZ, USA
Who in the HELL sets his digital watch to bleep at midnight?
At least he had adjusted the timezone (otherwise they would have found out earlier in the night), but she had realised just how comfortable she had become - and how close she had snuggled to his heat.
"Steady, Mackenzie!"
Two fit adult bodies in close proximity were bound to experience some kind of attraction. She propped herself up on one elbow, to look as the moonbeam illuminated his face. Even in the depths of sleep, this was an attractive man - and Sarah Mackenzie's hormones were beginning to churn. By choice, she hadn't gotten laid since before leaving Okinawa some two years earlier, after that shit-shower of a relationship with John.
This was one hell of a dream!
Then he shifted in the bet, muttering in his sleep.
She realised that her sundress had ridden up - and that apart from her bra, she was naked beneath the clothing.
But he was sleeping, breathing softly.
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Two hours later, she couldn't sleep - he was on his back now, and his shorts had fallen upon after he threw off the blanket some time after midnight.
Those lips looked *so* kissable - and he *had* offered to act as her boyfriend...
Almost on autopilot in her dream, she rolled across and straddled him; unconsciously, his arousal grew - then his eyes opened.
"Well, one of us must be dreaming."
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Saturday 4th January 1997, 02:24hrs
Rattlesnake Cafe site, Red Rock Mesa AZ, USA
His large hands stretched out behind her shoulders, then gently caressed her spine as the hands slid downwards, to firmly grasp her buttocks.
She sank onto him, rotating her hips to accommodate his swelling girth. She hadn't done this for a while, she realised. Still, they say it's like riding a bicycle: she gasped as he pushed further into her, forcing her open (in a very enjoyable way, she had to admit, because most of the "force" came from her submission to the force of gravity as she settled further, impaling herself willingly onto him).
"This Marine is going to heaven!"
This was one hell of a dream - *way* better than what she had been dreaming in her single rack over the past two years. The dream was accompanied by sensations and aromas and - "OH GOD!" She shuddered for well over two minutes as the pleasant aftershocks of her orgasm subsided, then she raised herself on her elbows and moved down his body, feeling his length disengage from her hot core and slide out.
She rolled onto her back, threw his blanket back over his softening flagpole and then she instantly fell asleep, with a satisfied smile playing on her lips.
"Wow, what a great dream."
Dawn would come soon enough!
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Saturday 4th January 1997, "by dawn's early light"
Rattlesnake Cafe, Red Rock Mesa AZ, USA
They surfaced together, shivering - the temperature in the truck had dropped before dawn in the desert.
Using Morse code, the two JAG adventurers established contact with Uncle Matt and then several adventures ensued over the following hours.
The Declaration was recovered after an airborne adventure during which time Sarah Mackenzie learned that she could trust Harmon Rabb jr - and could probably work with him in the future. On the helicopter, Harm had proven himself in her eyes: she would never consider herself a "damsel in distress" but was glad of his assistance as she got back into her stride as a "kick-ass" USMC Major.
She had a simple reply when her uncle Matt had asked her, as the dust was settling and Webb was beginning to relax - "So where did you find this sailor, Sarah?"
"In a rose garden, Uncle Matt!"
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She was growing closer to this tall JAG lawyer who wore his wings on his Winter Blues uniform (what was that about?, she wondered); how had this happened?
The grumpy Admiral had been very clear in his instructions, as he had assigned them together after introducing them to each other on that fateful day in the White House rose garden:
"Don't get too comfortable - you're gonna be working together."
But the case which arose from the hijacking of the Declaration of Independence - and their resulting dual role as defence counsel for Colonel Matthew O'Hara - had brought them together. As two single and unattached officers in the JAG Corps, it was perhaps inevitable that she had visited his apartment again, following the initial meetings and the adventure in the Arizona desert.
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With the return to Washington - and Chegwidden's decision to offer her a permanent posting to JAG HQ - she had leaned on Harm as she began to search for a new apartment. Over the coming months, they steadily grew closer as the cases exploited their skills and their success rate continued.
She was sure that he hadn't intended to dis-obey the Admiral's strictures, but that was what they *might* be deemed to be doing as he helped her with her accommodation problem.
"For F**k's sake, it's only dinner - he is cooking and I am assisting, whilst hanging around the apartment getting to know my new JAG work partner" she thought to herself.
Yeah, right!
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Friday 31st January 1997, 19:15hrs
Home of Harmon Rabb, North of Union Square, Washington DC, USA
Four weeks month later, Harm cooked her a home-cooked meal at his apartment as they continued the "get to know your partner" process.
The idea of a flight in his vintage Stearman trainer began to sound attractive; they scheduled the flight for later in February.
As she turned to watch him cook, she slowly formed an opinion that "this might go somewhere in time".
But, it would definitely be a slow burn. They both knew that they had to work together.
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Friday 21st February 1997, 14:55hrs
Crash-landing point, National Forest, USA
She sure as hell had not expected to get shot - and the wound was debilitating. Harm looked after her and eventually overcame the bad guys.
Overnight, they worked together and by the end of Saturday she was in the ER receiving medical care and a pharmacy-full of antibiotics.
Harm was beyond comforting at the turn of events; he took the shooting personally (as well as the failure of the fuel hose on his vintage Stearman bi-plane) but eventually she accepted his invitation to accompany her to the Gala Ball the following Saturday.
He collected her from the hospital the following day and carefully delivered her to her new apartment (she had only taken over the lease at the start of February). On Monday morning, she limped into the JAG HQ in a pair of USMC uniform trousers - the first time that Harm had seen her not wearing her uniform skirt.
He was beginning to form a very strong impression that the stars were aligning in their favour.
By now, he could see more than enough evidence to show the distinctions between his late, slaughtered love Diane Schonke and the new, lively and alive, wonderful and engaging USMC Major Sarah Catherine Mackenzie.
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Friday 28th February 1997, 18:25hrs
Apartment of Sarah Mackenzie, Georgetown, Washington DC, USA
As he walked around the corner of his SUV, Harm's jaw hit the floor as he opened the passenger door of the Lexus and turned to face Mac. He wished that he had chosen his Mess Dress trousers in a more-relaxed size! This vision of feminine beauty, hair slicked back and dress painted on, advanced toward him on four-inch stiletto heels. She had sure transformed from his "devil-dog" USMC partner - demonstrating "fire and beauty" in one glorious package.
She provided Harm with a useful relief from the Webb-inspired task of squiring the young Romanian Princess Alexi around the Washington scene.
Frankly, he was keen for an evening of platonic companionship with Mac. He hadn't quite worked out what he was going to do with Meghan O'Hara, who had moved into the downstairs apartment and was clearly interested in seeing more of him.
Sometimes, you wait six months for a new woman, then three come along at once...
The attempted assassination developed quickly during the evening. One moment he was standing alongside her, hand gently placed upon her rump as they had finished dancing before the formalities. Some instinct had made him scan the upper balcony. His call of "GUN!" coincided with the first shot.
In her heels, the was about ten feet away and behind the Secret Service agent who took the bullet, then she was piling in on top of Princess Alexi, looking into the young woman's terrified expression as she sought to reassure her.
"Don't worry, Harmon the Hero is on the case."
Alexi looked up into her eyes, her expression filled with a wisdom beyond her young years. She had met Mac in Harm's apartment one evening earlier in the week.
"Major, I believe that his heart is already spoken for, because..."
The sound of three further shots interrupted the conversation - and marked Meghan O'Hara's exit from life.
"CLEAR!"
As the pile of bodies began to ease up and the Ambulance crew arrived to tend to the wounded secret service agent, Alexi reached across and gripped Mac's hand.
"Major, go to him - and don't lose him."
Mac was puzzled by the younger woman's certainty. "How can you be sure?"
Alexi simply smiled, raised her eyes to the balcony and pointed.
Following the Princess's out-stretched hand, Mac looked up - straight into Harm's expression of relief - and love?
"I don't think those blood splashed will wash out."
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Friday 28th February 1997, 23:59hrs
Home of Harmon Rabb, North of Union Square, Washington DC, USA
Four hours later, Harm and Mac made it back to his apartment.
Alexi had been bundled away by her relief Secret Service team. Meghan O'Hara's corpse was still lying on the balcony, covered by a hastily-strewn blanket from her Housekeeping trolley as three law-enforcement agencies (plus Webb's "three-letter-acronym gang") argued the toss over jurisdiction into the early hours of the Saturday morning.
Harm brewed a pot of coffee, nodding Mac towards his bedroom.
"Mac, please don't take this the wrong way, but please feel free to change and grab one of my sweatshirts."
She flashed him another of the smiles which were becoming more-frequent as the weeks passed.
"Thanks Harm; I will."
Five minutes later, Harm nearly dropped the pot of coffee as he surveyed, once more, a vision of loveliness standing in his apartment as his eyes scanned down from her shoulders, taking in her clothing. His old Raptors sweatshirt only drew attention to a pair of unrestrained nipples: the sweatshirt hemline was just grazing her healing wound from where the poacher had shot her the week before, her ensemble finished off with her four-inch stiletto heels.
The memory was too powerful. He realised where he had seen that style of shoes before, on the night that he completed his recovery from his ramp-strike, with the assistance of...
"Hell, Diane, that's one hell of a dress."
Mac looked at him, her face exhibiting a mixture of disgust, surprise and horror.
"OK Harm, time to fess up, I think. Who's Diane - my twin that you spoke about?"
There was no easy way back from this.
Harm took the coffee tray to the small table, placed it gently then gestured for Mac to sit.
"Back in a minute Mac." He headed into the bedroom area, re-appearing a minute later with a small cigar box in his hand.
Opening the box, he extracted a small and old photograph about two inches square.
"Mac, there is part of my history that you need to know - and it takes us back to our first conversation on that rainy night in Arizona."
She nodded, taking the photograph and nodding him towards the coffee pot: he began to pour.
She looked at the photograph: "Lovely girl - but what is she doing with my face?"
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"So, how did you meet?"
"Well, thereby hangs a story."
She chuckled and looked him in the eyes.
"Harm - one thing at a time; coffee first and then the story."
She settled onto the sofa and looked at him coolly: "I think I will be here for a while."
He nodded and began to pour.
Then he began to tell the story of his doomed love.
As the story went on, Harm saw more and more differences; this was definitely a different woman - and she might just save him.
Two hours later, Mac accepted his offer to stay over; he was clearly emotional and, as his (work) partner, she felt obligated to support him.
"Mackenzie, sometimes you get into these situations..."
She fell asleep in his arms.
In his bed.
Wearing his sweatshirt.
Naked beneath - and still seriously aroused by his proximity.
Yet feeling totally safe, protected - and loved?
On the cusp of sleep, she was touched by a stray thought.
"This brings back memories of my dream in Red Rock Mesa."
That night was her second best night's sleep of 1997 so far.
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Saturday 1st March 1997, 08:37hrs
Home of Harmon Rabb, North of Union Square, Washington DC, USA
Sarah and Harm surfaced slowly at some point in the night. They were still in each other's arms after the shared support in the aftermath of their adventurous night with the Princess.
The next morning, still lying in Harm's arms, Sarah Mackenzie experienced her first bout of morning sickness.
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Saturday 1st March 1997, 09:55hrs
Apartment of Sarah Mackenzie, Georgetown, Washington DC, USA
After breakfast at Harm's, she made an incongruous sight, still dressed in her borrowed clothes as she drive home.
Driving in stiletto heels was definitely an acquired skill; fortunately she had found a spare set of USMC uniform pumps in the trunk of her car.
An hour later, she called in at the pharmacy and bought two different types of EPT.
This sickness wasn't normal. She had absolutely no idea that she might be pregnant, but she had to eliminate the possibility of "Virgin Conception".
Three hours later - and after ANOTHER trip to the pharmacy - she had to bow to the inevitable.
But how had this happened? She had been like a chaste, inviolate nun for over two years!
Then she remembered - her "first night with Harm"!
"Oh shit - was that a dream?"
No way around this - she had to call the only man that she had even been close to in more than two years.
She dialled the number - noting that her hands were remarkably stable considering the news that she had to impart.
"Harm, there is something you need to know..."
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Final A/N 29-JUL-2023: A one-off, sparked by a couple of early episodes in JAG canon chronology.
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End of: "One night in Red Rock Mesa"
Mike: UK, 29-07-2023