"Don't get too comfortable - you'll be working together"
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 22-JUN-2023: 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: "Smoked" (S01Ep14, airdate 20MAR1996): "Skeleton Crew pt1" (S01EP2x - originally un-broadcast original script, part #1 maybe 15JUL1996): "We the people" (S02Ep01, airdate 03JAN1997).
Characters from FFNET – Harmon Rabb jr; Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie; Jack Keeter.
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Monday 13th January 1997, 18:36hrs
Home of Harmon Rabb, North of Union Square, Washington DC, USA
She could not believe how homely this felt, watching Harm cooking her his "infamous meatless meatloaf" on the professional gas range in his apartment.
She thought back over the whirlwind of the preceding 11 days, since she had first met Harm on Friday 3rd January on the edge of the White House Rose garden. 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?"
He had proven himself to her when - in response to her silent expression screaming "HELP!" as she was restrained inside the helo - he had unhesitatingly hurled himself at the helo and hung onto the skid as it soared away from terra firma. 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 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.
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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Flashback:
Friday 10th January 1997, 17:59hrs
Home of Harmon Rabb, North of Union Square, Washington DC, USA
"So how did you find this place?" she had asked, as he held open the third-floor door of the rickety freight elevator in the converted warehouse.
"Oh, I have an 'in' with the landlord - well, his managing company to be exact. Hey, there is a spare two-bedroom unit on my floor: it needs a bit of finishing in the bathroom area, but the basic re-model was similar to mine. I guess we could get the floor covering sorted and the bathroom would be a quick fix, if you don't mind having me as a neighbour?"
She looked around his apartment - noting the glass bricks fronting the shower area. Would she want to live here, so close to the man whose animal magnetism was making serious inroads deep beneath her Marine programming?
As she turned to watch him placing the grocery bags on the counter, she realised that - completely autonomously and irresistibly - her body was responding to his presence. This had not happened since Okinawa - and she knew how *that* episode in her life had ended! Nevertheless, she was glad of the two layers of thick uniform clothing over her undergarments because she could feel her twin peaks stiffening; what was it about this man?
She realised - ten minutes later after he had dipped into his bedroom to discard his uniform and re-emerge in black sweater and jeans - that she was still aroused. This did not usually happen! Was this a sign?
Harm switched back to the "apartment realtor" mode.
"So, shall I call the managing agent to get you a lease deal?"
Like a docile deer in the headlights, she observed - almost from a distance outside her own body - as her "Devil-Dog" USMC persona meekly nodded, agreeing to accept his proposition, so that Harm picked up his phone to call the agent. She was on the road to making a commitment. This solved her problem of finding an apartment, but he was going to be her neighbour.
Maria at the agency was quite happy to work over the weekend (her commissions structure rewarded excellent customer service). By Sunday, Mac would become a client and tenant of "Burnett Property Management LLC" and awaiting a timescale for the fit-out of her new DC home.
The property agency's contractors would quickly remodel the bathroom in her new apartment and she would be moving out of the BOQ in Anacostia one evening as soon as they had completed. Until then, all her clothing (other than the uniform which she stood up in) was in Anacostia.
The agent had a pre-existing remodelling plan for the apartment signed off and was happy to get the work underway within two working days, so Harm offered her the use of his couch as an interim.
She wisely decided to separate herself from temptation and remain in "the Anacostia Convent" until the remodelling work was completed.
End flashback:
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Monday 13th January 1997, 19:36hrs
Home of Harmon Rabb, North of Union Square, Washington DC, USA
She had enjoyed his company as he cooked. With spitting fat on the cooking range, he had counselled her to protect her USMC uniform.
She had grabbed her sea-bag and ducked into his bedroom, where she had stripped the clothes from the top half of her body. This included a slightly less-than-comfortable new bra: she had needed to make some emergency purchases after abandoning some of her clothing in the beaten-up old truck when they called Billie to head across and collect the truck from Red Rock Mesa. Bud had collected the Government car from Billie's gas station and driven out to the RV point with Webb once the "State Department" had homed in on Harm's abandoned cell-phone.
She pulled on a borrowed "Raptors" F-14 sweatshirt from Harm's wardrobe. It smelled of him (naturally) and she realised - halfway across the lounge towards the kitchen area - that her unrestrained breasts were responding once more to his presence - plus the stimulation of being gently stroked by the material of the sweatshirt! It wasn't just the cooking which was generating her heat.
Damnit, she had to work with this guy, this officer; this man, who was standing in front of her, cooking for her, glancing across at her...
Fortunately the Raptors logo provided reasonable camouflage. How in the hell was *he* affecting *her* in such a subconscious way? She didn't normally react like this. But that Flyboy smile - which he had unleashed on her in full-on 100-watt intensity just twice so far - had her moistening.
To distract herself, she grabbed a raw carrot and chomped down on it as she returned to her perch, watching him cook.
Her body remained stubbornly aroused; she shifted her pose, trying to escape the caress of the Raptors sweatshirt which was now stimulating her wherever she tried to shift. This guy needed to use more fabric softener in his laundry...
"Come on, down girls - please!"
She desperately concentrated on maintaining the conversation, as Harm finished off his culinary tasks.
"So, you are obviously comfortable with the managing agent for this apartment block?"
He nodded - then confessed a secret.
"Yep - full disclosure; it's my stepfather's property company. They've been involved in the gentrification programme here for about four years. Effectively I have potentially the full run of this third floor if I need it. I could have extended across the entire floor, but I would welcome this Marine Major I met recently. It is a while since anyone expressed an interest in taking a lease on part of it."
"Yes, I can see that the whole floor would make a lovely family home in the future."
He snorted and she looked at him curiously.
He smiled apologetically, then explained. "Sorry Mac, but for me the idea of 'family life' is looking further away out of reach, as each month goes by."
She looked at him askance. What was wrong with this prime hunk of American male?
"Harm, to be frank, you look pretty good from here."
Wow, where had that come from.
She picked up another carrot from the vegetable dish, absent-mindedly crunching it as she looked at him for enlightenment. Unconsciously as she relaxed on the kitchen stool, her thighs parted slightly, inexorably dragging the USMC uniform skirt higher up her thighs. She was gratified to watch as his eyes momentarily flicked down to check what he was seeing. "No doubt about his red-blooded male status", she thought to herself as she realised that she actually appreciated the fact that he was admiring her well-toned thighs as this damn' skirt rose higher...
He sighed and raised his gaze to look directly into her eyes - and she suddenly noticed the dark pools of a troubled soul take over from the friendly blue of his eyes.
Then he began to explain.
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"Well Mac, the whole 'marriage and kids' idea took a serious step back this past summer. My long-term girlfriend and I were going to head up to her parents' cabin in Maine to talk through the future, as we had arranged for when she came back home from six months of sea duty. Only thing was, she was shot to death on the dockside. I handled the case - well, more accurately I started the JAGMAN investigation with my then-colleague Meg. It was me who was standing by the gurney and the body-bag. So I opened the body bag as the NCIS agent announced the victim's name."
His head dipped in sorrow, as he continued hoarsely: "Worst day of my life."
He paused and she instinctively reached out for his hand.
Their fingers intertwined as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
Careful, Mackenzie!
"We still don't know who the killer is, even after I had spent six hours in handcuffs when NCIS jumped to the wrong conclusion. Fortunately Meg - my partner at the time - cut through the crap and I was exonerated."
Suddenly, she felt an urge to just hug him. He sounded so broken.
"Shit - that must be taking time to recover from?"
He nodded: "Yep; it's a little easier every month. but I still haven't quite accepted that I can never be in love with a ghost."
She considered his words, as he continued: "You see, Mac, a ghost is perfect and gets better with every year. You forget more of her irritating faults (if she had any) as the memories become progressively more blurred, until only the good times are retained in the memory. At least, that's been my experience since the funeral."
He chuckled: "But I have to be honest, Mac - a ghost won't keep you warm at night."
Again, she thought through his statement before she responded: this conversation had gone from light to mega-heavy in less than a minute. She needed to lighten the tone, otherwise the meal was likely to be consumed in silence. A thought occurred to her.
"Well, yes that is true, Harm: plus I suspect that Man and Woman were not put on this earth to be alone."
She paused, considering the enormity of what she had just said. She was standing in a man's apartment as he cooked for her, wearing his sweatshirt, bra-less and desperately trying to hide the visible evidence of her arousal. He'd just intimated that he was single - and definitely available.
"Mackenzie, sometimes you get into these situations..."
He looked at her sideways with growing appreciation, as she decided whether to say more, then he nodded in agreement with her previous statement.
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He had been open with her: so should she reciprocate?
"Well, I cannot quite match that life experience Harm, but I haven't seen my daughter since the day that she was born."
He raised an eyebrow. She cocked her head sideways (as she had done in the darkness of Red Rock Mesa when confessing to her alcoholism) then she continued. "I had a fling with a colleague in Okinawa before I shipped out, then found out I was pregnant a month later. I worked through Duke Law and got my law degree eventually but I had - of course - needed to give her up for adoption."
She sighed: "The Church in San Diego handled everything and the records are sealed. So I am on a bit of a long-running guy-atus."
He raised his "questioning" eyebrow again (boy, did he look cute when he did that!), so she continued: "Guy-atus - a hiatus from guys."
He nodded gravely, spooning out the food as she talked through her history. Then he asked a question.
"Does the father know about your daughter?"
She shook her head. "Nope: the complicating factor was that he had been my CO - wonderful guy, great leader, effective mentor and completely hands-off until the end. Not quite a father figure but definitely filled my need for a "big brother". I got carried away at the end. We got serious after my transfer details came through; in total I reckon three dates plus at least one night to remember. So I headed off east to San Diego with an undeclared little passenger on board."
She dropped her head briefly, studiously inspecting her fingernails; Harm wondered if she was fighting tears as she continued. "I haven't seen her for two years (since the day after she was born) and - realistically - I won't see her for (at least) another 16 or so years until she turns 18. Even then, I suspect that we would both need to consent in order for contact to be effected."
She sighed and smiled forlornly; "so that's a problem for 2013."
He put down the spoon and turned to her, opening his arms; she simply glided into his embrace, standing there in the kitchen area.
He kissed the crown of her head, inhaling the lingering scent of her shampoo from the morning, before he continued.
"Well Mac, there is something you need to know about my..."
He got no further; there was an enthusiastic knocking on the door.
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She sprang to her feet and looked at him.
"Harm, I'll go - you stay", she said: "That meatloaf needs the vegetables serving."
He nodded, but watched her legs - below the hem of her USMC-issue skirt - as she walked to the door. This woman could make a burlap sack look sexy!
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Monday 13th January 1997, 19:45hrs
Home of Harmon Rabb, North of Union Square, Washington DC, USA
She opened the door to find a larger-than-life man standing there displaying a clone of Harm's "Flyboy" smile, with a sea-bag over one shoulder and six-pack in his hand.
He took one look at her and smiled broadly.
"Hey little Miss Diane Schonke, looking good - is your hair lighter? So how was that crypto cruise?"
The questions flowed thick and fast. Not waiting for an answer, the new arrival strolled forward into the apartment, tweaked her left nipple and winked, then carried on talking: "Still not pierced, Diane?" Stunned, she looked across and noticed that Harm was surveying the developing scene with an expression which seemed to be bordering on horror, as the visitor continued chatting without (apparently) drawing breath.
"Harm old son, glad you've made an honest woman of Diane here; that weekend in Maine must have worked better than you were hoping. Damned Company has had me flying up the boonies since that night before you said you were going to hook up with her when she came ashore. I only got your new address notification after New Year's, hence the surprise visit."
He turned once more towards Mac: "So, the 1997 annual Reunion of the Annapolis Horsemen is hereby declared open; have you two heard from Sturgis lately?"
As Keeter (for it was he!) settled onto the sofa, Mac turned - still stunned and speechless, standing by the open apartment door - towards Harm.
She was only mildly irritated as she realised that the sweatshirt was once again rubbing gently against a pair of her naked and pert breasts, which were still standing stubbornly proud beneath the image of the F14. Keeter had undone her work on trying to get under control after Harm's embrace. She sighed - in fairness, her "girls" would be unable to resist an affectionate assault by two naval aviators - that was just asking too much!
Harm recovered the power of speech half a nanosecond before Mac's stunned surprise wore off and gave way to her annoyance, delaying her response as he spoke first.
"Jack, there is something you need to know..."
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Final A/N 22-JUN-2023: A one-off, sparked by a couple of early episodes in JAG canon chronology.
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End of: "Don't get too comfortable - you'll be working together"
Mike: UK, 22-06-2023