Revised summary, Monday 28OCT2024:
Harm meets Jenn Coates at Loren Singer's grave in Arlington. Based on Season Nine (late 2003), with Harm working for Mattie in late October 2003 and Loren Singer being dead, maintaining the canon "Loren Singer inspires the NCIS TV series" before branching off at Hallowe'en of 2003 with this new story. Inspired by the 2015 story "The Visit" by the late Trevor (aka byrthelm).
Ch01 of "Comforted by his brunette" - "The Visit" (2015) merged into "After Arlington" *REDUX*
AU: October 2003. Harm is working for Mattie and meets Jenn Coates at Loren Singer's gravesite. A new life-course branches off as he decides whether to return to JAG.
A/N – update to Ch01 published on 28-Oct-2024. When I first launched this on 13-09-2024, I sought your views on whether to include the text of the original (inspirational) 2015 story "The Visit" by the late author byrthelm (who was writing here before I found this website in 2018) - which inspired this new 2024 story. Long-time FFN readers will remember that Trevor died in 2016 before I joined this website (so obviously I couldn't have asked him for permission to quote from his work). The overwhelming response was - YES, include "the Visit".
So - if you ready my original Chapter 01 published on 13-SEP-2024, you will recognise the back half of this new Ch01 and will find Trevor's story as the first half. Confused? Join the club! Happy readings.
A/N: to my "posse of advice" in Sep/Oct 2024: THANKS for your strong recommendations to INCLUDE the 2015 story.
Cassandra30; justafan7797; Alerikrahl; sarai; chaonguns; Inkysplatt(various!) Kevin jandreau
So – herewith the revised Chapter 01, including Trevor's original text which is now included at the start, as a FLASHBACK. Then we move into my 2024 new writings in this story. Chapter Two will take things forward (and was published on 28-OCT-2024).
A/N: "they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them - apart from any character created by myself". See Ch 01 for disclaimers.
Summary: this is a fictional story, in a fictional (slightly) Alternative Universe, about fictional characters who entertained us in a fictional TV series between 1995 and 2005. Comments and PMs and suggestions are most welcome. Mike
Canon Episodes: Harm meets Jenn Coates at Loren Singer's grave in Arlington. Based on Harm working for Mattie in late October 2003 and Loren Singer being dead, maintaining the canon "Loren Singer inspired the NCIS TV series" before branching off at Hallowe'en of 2003 with this new story into Season 9.
"Tangled Webb, Part 1" – broadcast May20,2003 (S08Ep24)
"Shifting Sands" – Harm returns to DC – S09Ep02 - October3,2003
"Touchdown" – Harm lands C-130 – S09Ep05 - October24,2003
"Back in the Saddle" – Harm returns and meets Mattie – S09Ep06 - October31,2003 Harm meets Admiral at airfield.
Characters from FFNET – H Rabb; Jennifer Coates: (later) Mattie Grace.
A/N: Original was Published 13-Sep-2024: Setting the scene and seeking my readers' views and your approval/views on picking up the original 2015 parent story which inspired me.
A/N: Expanded Ch01 REDUX - re-published 28-OCT-2024 including the original unfinished storyline from 2015 which I publish now as a flashback.
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FLASHBACK (Trevor's 2015 story: "The Visit")
The Visit
Leaving at the end of the day after the Admiral's visit to Blacksburg Airfield, on Friday 31st October 2003:
"Okay, Mats… I'll see you Monday… bright and early!" Harm grinned as he flipped the copper haired teenager a casual salute while at the same time he tucked his pay packet into the inside pocket of his motorcycle leather jacket.
"You sure?" the teenager demanded slightly tremulously.
She still hadn't gotten over the shock of the reason behind Admiral Chegwidden's visit to the hangar yesterday, and knowing how much Harm missed the Navy she couldn't quite bring herself to believe that he had refused the older officer's offer to have him reinstated with no loss of service.
Her question, succinct as it was served to bring Harm to a halt as he started to stride to the old Indian motorcycle and cause him to spin back to face his boss. "Now why would you say that?" he asked, although he had a pretty good idea, despite her stone-face, of what Mattie was thinking.
"I can't help thinking that you want back in the Navy, and that mean old man has given you a way back in…" Mattie mumbled.
"Hey… I told you yesterday that I would never go back to the Navy if it meant serving under him, so what's with all the doubts?"
"Well…" Mattie shrugged uncomfortably and jammed her hands in her jeans pockets, "It's like you always say, 'people lie' - and I'm learning about grown-ups..."
Harm's expression turned serious.
"Mattie Grace, I have never lied to you, and I swear I never will. So when I say I'll see you bright and early on Monday morning, then I'll see you bright and early on Monday morning! Capisce?"
"Yeah… I guess…" Mattie reluctantly conceded
"Good!" Harm gave the young girl another casual salute and turned back towards his motor cycle, confidently swinging a leg over the seat and a few seconds later, having secured his helmet, stamping down on the kick start.
Mattie stood at the hangar door for a few seconds as the Indian disappeared around the corner of the next hangar and then, giving a sigh, straightened her shoulders.
"Hey, Mike! How about getting the doors closed and the hangar secure for the night?" she yelled.
"On it boss!" came a cheerful reply from the darkness of the hangar's interior, to be followed in a few seconds by the sight of Mike Fathers, one of the company ground crew, swinging the door winding gear casually from one hand.
"He gonna be back?" Mike asked.
Mattie didn't need to ask who 'he' was, so she just nodded.
"Yeah, he'll be back," she affirmed, resolutely hiding her own doubts before she turned on her heel and making for the office, crossed the hangar floor, and despite the ample clearance, instinctively ducking her head as she passed under the wing of the DHC Beaver.
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Saturday morning 1st November 2003:
Home of Harmon Rabb:
Harm woke up on Saturday morning in a sombre mood, then glanced at his wall calendar for confirmation… yes… the day was circled in red, which meant he had an obligation to fill. Nodding grimly to himself, he headed for the shower.
An hour later, showered, breakfasted and dressed in a charcoal grey suit and a plain necktie worn with a white shirt, he checked his reflection in the three-quarter length mirror just inside the apartment door and with a nod of acceptance at his appearance he left the apartment and took the stairs to the first floor.
Stepping outside, he was unable to repress a shiver. The weather was a pretty fine match for the mood of the day, he thought grimly: low, grey clouds and a chill northerly wind, the air damp and dank with the promise – or threat of rain to come.
He sighed: all in all just about fit for the self-appointed task that lay ahead.
He was long overdue in keeping this appointment, but the six months he had spent flying for the CIA hadn't left him much time to spare for other commitments, but now he had cut himself free, or rather he had been cut free – thanks to Webb – he had the opportunity and although he wasn't relishing the prospect of what he was about to do, he needed to do it.
These thoughts occupied his mind for the first few blocks as he piloted the silver Lexus through the DC traffic until he hit Georgia Avenue, where he stopped briefly to make a purchase before resuming his journey.
Following Georgia to the North he turned off the main route at the Petworth metro station and drove along Rock Creek Church until he reached his destination.
He pulled into one of the few parking slots and slid out from behind the wheel and set off along the footpath to his destination.
Although he hadn't been here for nearly four months since earlier during July for her birthday, his feet seemed to remember the route and took him where he wanted to go almost without him having to think about it, but twenty feet from his final destination he stopped in surprise. It seemed he wasn't the only visitor here this morning, a slight figure, in dark pants and a beige car coat was on one knee, apparently pulling weeds from the ground.
"Jen?" Harm said quietly.
Legalman Petty Officer Second Class Jennifer Coates almost lost her balance as she tried to spin around and stand up at the same time. (heels = ground-spikes)
"Sir!" she gasped in surprise.
"Not, 'sir', Jen. I'm not in the Navy any more, so 'Harm' will do just fine!" he replied reaching out to grasp her upper arm to steady her as she regained her balance.
He managed a grin despite the pain his own words caused him, and to divert his thoughts away from that pain he smiled gently at Jen and nodded, "It was quite a surprise to see you here… I wouldn't have thought…"
Jen sobered on the instant and look down at the headstone almost at her feet, "No… I suppose it does seem a bit strange… but I did work with her aboard the Seahawk, and away from JAG… well, she still wasn't Miss Congeniality, but she was easier to get along with, maybe because she could run her own office in the way she wanted, and she certainly kept a tight ship. Lieutenant Roberts was good to work for, but sometimes he was almost too relaxed…"
"Yeah… but even that doesn't explain what you're doing here?"
"I try to get here once a month," Jen explained with a self-deprecating shrug, "it's not as if anyone else bothers, and yes, she could be a real witch, but she needs to be remembered, we all do. And she didn't deserve what happened to her, despite anything she may or may not have done – and her baby certainly didn't," she added in a husky whisper
"That's true," Harm agreed. "And it's about why I try to get here when I can…" he let his eye run along the simple inscription on the stone:
'Loren Maria Singer, Lieutenant USN, Daughter, Mother.'
Jen followed his eyes as they moved across the stone. "It ought to read 'sister' too," Jen said bitterly.
"How so?" Harm asked.
"The Admiral used to brag that JAG was a family. Well, if it was, then Loren Singer was a part of that family. She may have been wrong-headed, stubborn, over-ambitious and everything else people accused her of, but she was still a part of that family, and she should have been treated better, especially in death, after the way she was treated in life!"
Jen gulped and impatiently dashed the threatening tears from her eyes before continuing.
"Instead, she was abandoned, pretty much the way you were sir! You'd think that the Admiral would have learned from his past mistakes, but no, the stubborn old sonofa… I mean he just keeps ploughing ahead on the same old course!"
"Easy Jen, easy…" Harm cautioned her. Sure there was no one around to hear her insubordination, but he knew her well enough to know that once she had raised a head of steam she pretty much didn't care what she said to anybody.
"Oh… I'll be careful what I say around JAG," Jen assured him, rummaging in her purse for a Kleenex, and then favoured him with a watery smile, "But since you're not in the Navy any more… and I don't reckon I'll re-up, then I don't really mind what I say to you…"
"Here…" Harm's hand dipped into his pocket and brought out a crisply ironed and folded plain white handkerchief.
"Thanks…" Jen took the proffered article and wiped her eyes, and then saw to her horror that her eye make-up had run, "Oh… I'm sorry…I'll get that laundered, or replaced!" she gasped.
"Don't worry about it!" Harm reassured her and then he dropped to one knee, "Yours?" he asked quietly, indicating the posy of forest flowers in a bud vase.
Jen nodded.
Harm smiled and placed his own offering, a small spray of lilies (his en-route purchase) on Loren Singer's grave.
He dropped one hand to the turf, as if that would help him communicate with her: "Rest easy, Lieutenant," he murmured only just loud enough for Jen to hear, "The watch stands relieved."
For some reason Harm's words tugged at Jen's heart strings and once again she had recourse to Harm's handkerchief.
Harm stayed on one knee for a few moments more, maybe Jen thought he was silently praying, or maybe he was just still trying to make sense out of the tragedy that had been Loren Singer's life. At last with a heavy sigh he brought himself back to his feet and looked at Jen. "Are you all done here?"
Jen nodded "Ready si… uh… Harm" and then drew herself up into a brief brace, her eyes dropping to focus once more on the headstone, "Until next time, ma'am." she said softly
Harm cleared his throat, and with a meaningful glance at the lowering sky said, "I reckon we're in for some rain. Come on, Jen, I'll walk you back to your car."
"No car," Jen shrugged. "It's in the shop in Falls Church. Damn thing wouldn't start yesterday afternoon."
"How did you get here this morning?" Harm asked in mild surprise.
"Oh… The metro to Petworth, and then walked up to the cemetery."
He looked at her heels in admiration - this girl was tough! He made a decision.
"Well… you can't walk back to Petworth. Not in this – you'll get soaked!" Harm said decisively, and with a second sour glance skywards, as he felt the first drops of cold rain strike his face. "Where do you live?"
"Fourth NE," Jen said innocently, "The stretch north of Florida, backed up against the railroad tracks. It's the only place we can afford…"
"We?" Harm asked.
Jen nodded, "Yeah, myself and three other Petty Offices. It's not a pretty sight when we're all trying to get ready for duty at the same time… but like I said, even with the rent split four ways, it's the best we can do… Unless we wanted to live in BEQ…" Jen's voice trailed off as she shuddered at the thought.
Harm smiled at the expression of distaste on Jen's face, "Well… hop in… I'll give you a ride," Harm offered.
"Oh, thanks, but it's okay. I don't want to take you out of your way…" Jen said firmly.
"But you're not. Taking me out of my way, I mean," Harm's smile broadened into a grin, even as the rain became heavier. "Come on, get in! I live on Fourth NE too, down on the eight hundred block!" he added by way of explanation
Jen cast one look up at the sky - which was now distinctly darker - and she surrendered, "Well, in that case, sir… Thanks!"
"Jen! No, sirs – remember?" Harm challenged the younger woman as he closed the car door for her, and hurried around the front of the Lexus so he could climb in behind the wheel.
He closed the door and turned to face her; even with wet hair, Jen displayed an innate beauty which he - for the first time - truly began to see.
"No, 'sirs'!" he repeated for emphasis, "I'm not in the Navy now!"
"Not now, but you should be! You will be!" Jen said fiercely. "We need you back at JAG!"
"The Admiral needs me back at JAG to take up the slack because the officer he drafted in to take my place screwed the pooch. Hell, he doesn't need me – all he needs is a warm body to review old cases!"
"I'm not talking about the Admiral!" Jen denied, "I don't really care what he thinks he needs or really needs! I'm talking about Lieutenant Roberts, Lieutenant Sims, Commander Turner, Colonel MacKenzie and… and… and me! We need you back at JAG, sir! Not just a warm body but you!"
Harm managed to conceal a pained grimace at the mention of Mac's name, but he shook his head, "I'm sorry, Jen, but that's not going to happen… No! Subject closed!" he warned the pretty brunette as she opened her mouth to argue.
Jen shut her mouth with an almost audible snap, "Aye, aye, sir!" she replied crisply.
"Jen! I've told you, I'm not in the Navy, I don't rate 'aye, ayes', or 'sirs', any more!"
"In that case, sir, you shouldn't give orders!" Jen retorted unrepentantly.
"Still as insub… Oh… no… I can't say that any more either!"
Harm grinned as his sense of humour surfaced. That was something Jennifer Coates had always managed to do: from almost the very first second that he had met her, she had always managed to make him see the ridiculous side of life.
Harm shook his head and sighed, "Alright, I won't give any more orders… but are questions acceptable?"
"Of course - Harm!" Jen replied.
"In that case, how about a coffee?" Harm suggested.
Jen brushed her damp hair back off her face, "Now that sounds like a plan!" she agreed, "Where do you have in mind?"
"There's a little bistro place on the corner of Fifth NE and H that serves a reasonable brew, and we could probably get a biscotti if we asked nicely," Harm smiled.
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*end of Trevor's 2015 one-off entitled "The Visit", which received multiple "please write more" reviews*
End of FLASHBACK (concluding Trevor's 2015 story: "The Visit")
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And now – the rest of this chapter is the original CH01 which I wrote and published on 13-09-2024.
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Saturday afternoon, 1st November 2003
"The Corner Bistro", north of Union Station, "H" Street, Washington DC, 20002, USA
Although the journey from Arlington only measured a little over four miles, the journey time of over 20 minutes had an advantage. Jenn's hair had almost dried in the warm air which she had arranged to blast out of the dashboard vents in the Lexus. Her frozen toes had also thawed out during the journey.
Harm had never seen – close-up – a woman with long hair carrying out such an impromptu drying session in his car.
With her head almost resting upon the dashboard, she had looked across at him, smiled, then admitted "sometimes, the Navy 'bun' style saves time in the mornings". She had already revealed that she was sharing a house with three other Navy enlisted women.
Harm was realising a whole lot more about Jennifer Coates – and liking what he saw.
She turned back to face the road ahead, as her shimmering brunette hair cascaded over her shoulders with very little frizz. She had pulled a scrunchie onto her wrist as she worked on her hair, but Harm placed a hand gently on her wrist. "Jenn, leave it loose – it reinforces the fact that you are off-duty – and ensures that all the hair dries out."
"OK, Harm – and I'll take that as a compliment." She relaxed visibly, pushed the scrunchie back into a side-pocket of her handbag in the footwell, then settled back into her seat, pulling the seatbelt taut across her chest.
The seatbelt sat in the valley between her woollen-covered breasts, just inside Harm's excellent flight-tested range of peripheral vision. Despite the best efforts of the USN female uniform in the office to conceal everything, it was clear that Jenn Coates had quite a body. The rear view at Loren's headstone had confirmed the "child-bearing hips" part of the equation.
He thought back to his mother's advice long ago. Trish Burnett had encouraged him to "find a woman with child-bearing hips": Diane Schonke had matched that specification (plus a whole load more in terms of her spirit, spunk and love of life at USNA and after) – and so, obviously, had Mac.
"Concentrate on the road, Rabb!"
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Harm was learning more about Jennifer Coates with each encounter – and the younger woman was revealing more at each stage in return! This "Babushka" Russian-doll reveal was quite attractive – and she clearly had a great intellect (way beyond her pre-USN cheque-kiting and scam initiatives).
The easy flow of conversation continued inside the Bistro, after she had stepped away to the powder room, returning with freshly-applied lip-gloss in a deep ruby red.
He returned to the conversation.
"So, I guess sharing a house with three others is 'sub-optimal' for you, Jenn?"
Harm had broached the subject. She took a long sip from her coffee cup, then looked across the table at him. Jennifer Coates was clearly not a happy woman.
"Yeah, plus I'll be 29 on Thursday."
"No! Really?"
He raised an eyebrow in surprise. Although he had obviously had access to all of Coates' details when he first met her – for her case – he hadn't realised her "advancing years". The "troubled child" had definitely matured into a grown woman – and his care and support in her original court case might very well have helped the metamorphosis.
She continued: "I guess it's not quite the same for a man, but the imminent arrival of the "big three-oh' next year tends to concentrate a woman's mind."
She paused for a moment, considering her next words carefully: "Plus, when the 29-year-old woman is both single and completely unattached…" She shrugged.
He snorted cynically: "Yeah r-i-i-g-h-t!" before he continued, seeking to minimise her torment at the advancing years.
"Hey, it could be worse." Harm decided to deploy humour – and his flyboy smile – to cheer up his coffee companion. "Anyhow, I comprehensively beat you – I hit 40 last week, on October 25th."
She looked, open-mouthed. "What – last Saturday? No! You didn't, si… Harm!"
"Yep, big Four-Oh and (rather like you) no-one to celebrate with, Jenn. No-one at all. I landed the C-130 on the 23rd, got back Stateside late on the 24th to get canned by the CIA, then woke up alone the next morning on my birthday. I lazed around the apartment in the morning, then I enjoyed beers, a cake for one and then a telephone call to my mom."
Just for a moment, he flashed back to Mac and her very clear statement of "Never" – which he had, of course, respected as an officer and a gentleman.
"footloose and fancy-free"
She reached out and grasped his hand gently. "In that case, Mister Experienced Lonely Guy, we really should mark this mid-point, between your really big date and my upcoming almost-a-big-date".
He turned his hand over and intertwined fingers with her. Across the small table, she relaxed, accepting his gentle contact. Crossing her long legs beneath the table, the side of her ankle boot began to gently caress the side of his calf.
He instantly stiffened, looking deep into her eyes. They both smiled, caught in the enormity of the moment.
"Are you sure, Jenn?"
She thought for a moment, then nodded. "Harm, let's do dinner tonight."
"Sounds like a plan".
"Hey, that's my line!".
Giggling, she stood and picked up her coat, effortlessly drawing it over her shoulders as her arms fed down the sleeves. Ever the gentleman, he helped straighten her coat and then - umbrella in hand - prepared to escort her back to his car for the journey to her home. Jenn fluffed her hair, cascading the brunette waterfall once more down her shoulders, then flashed him a warm smile as she turned to face the door.
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The journey to her home took but a few minutes; each was quiet, alone with their own thoughts about how the day (and potentially the evening and night) was turning out. She directed him to the kerbside outside the shared house.
"Thanks, Harm."
Placing her hand on the door-lever, she unlatched her seatbelt with her left hand ready to step out, then changed her mind. She leaned across the car, placed one hand on the transmission tunnel and gently kissed his right cheek.
Surprised, he turned to face her fully.
She leaned in again, this time aiming for (and capturing) his lips in what deepened into a searing kiss. Harm was glad that he had moved the transmission instinctively into "PARK" before she had even reached for the lever to open her car door.
She drew back, eyebrows raised questioningly: his only response was a surprised "Wow!".
Reaching into the pocket of her jacket, she used a Kleenex to remove the traces of her chosen dark red "warpaint" from his cheek, then she spoke, her voice unusually husky for a moment.
"Care to come up for more coffee and let's see how 40 works with 28?"
He smiled and nodded, slotting his car into gear and heading for the "Visitors" parking space.
This would be the best post-Hallowe'en in a few years. Never mind "Trick" – Harmon Rabb Jr was settling for "Treat"!
They walked up to the front door, side by side and just touching shoulders.
Jenn relished the closeness – plus he wasn't in the Navy anymore and had told her that he was single. They both now knew, with certainty, that the other was available…
Guiding Harm to the kitchen, Jenn already knew that she would be bringing an overnight bag when Harm came back later to collect her at 19:00hrs that night.
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END:
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*Historical Document - the original A/N from 13-SEP-2024:
*Final A/N 13-09-2024:and that is where I shall leave this three-page treatment for today. If I receive three reviews before Monday 23rd September 2024 (regardless of the reviewer saying "go ahead" or "leave it" or "dunno - indecisive"!) I will either:
1. Close this three-pager off and mark it complete (this is the default if I receive no responses – like my recent story about Mrs Teddy Lindsey). Note that I am not "demanding" responses (PMs would suffice) but I definitely *DO* need reader feedback on which way to go w.r.t. including Trevor's original 2015 storyline "The Visit" or not…
2. Take the story forward from this point onward, without including the text of "The Visit" from 2015.
3. Take the story forward into subsequent chapter, revising this first chapter to include the body of Trevor's 2015 story "The Visit" (which will help readability and make this 2024-written story "flow" better).
If the conclusion is "leave it here, Mike" – that will be fine. I already have four in-flight stories which all need to continue.
Your votes, dear reader, will determine which of three outcomes I shall proceed with…
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Mike, UK, 13-SEP-2024
*Heavily revised on 28-10-2024 after the readers' poll on: "Including Trevor's 2015 story entitled 'The Visit' into Mike's Ch01 Redux"
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Next Chapter – "Ch02 - December 2003: getting closer…" (working title)