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Date Posted: 13:59:10 03/04/06 Sat
Author: Sylvia Mohr Bartlett
Subject: FWWATT Chapter 7 Section Four
In reply to: Sylvia Mohr Bartlett 's message, "FOR WHICH WE ARE TRULY THANKFUL Ch 7" on 13:01:08 03/04/06 Sat

FOR WHICH WE ARE TRULY THANKFUL

By Sylvia Mohr Bartlett

Chapter 7: Section Four: A Goth's Eye View



When the duo from NCIS arrived at Sick Bay, Dr. Studevant was just coming out of Harm's room. "May I help you, Agent Gibbs?"

"Doctor, this is my forensic specialist, Abby Sciuto. She needs a sample of the Commander's blood. It needs to be drawn in her presence."

"We need to match it to the blood in the cockpit." Abby explained.

The doctor nodded. "Do you need a tube or do you have one?"

"If I could trouble you for one of yours, sir, I would appreciate it. I didn't stop and think I'd need a blood sample when I packed my gear. Well, not the kind you get from the living." She flushed as she realized how that might sound. "I mean…"

"It is okay, Ms. Sciuto. I understand what you mean. As it happens I was going to draw some blood myself, so I'll just add a tube for you. Agent Gibbs, Dr. Reyes is in his office, perhaps now would be a good time for you to ask him the questions you need answered from him. Come with me, Ms. Sciuto."

"Call me Abby."

"You can call me Stu, Abby. Right this way." As they turned to walk together to the supply room, Gibbs heard the doctor telling the girl. "I almost feel I already know you; Ducky is very impressed with your work and speaks of you rather fondly. We have lunch at least once a month."


Gibb winced as he overheard that. Great. Studevant and Mallard were lunch buddy chums. The Duck probably really had started a pool on how ticked off Gibbs would make the doctor. Just ducky. No pun intended.




By the time they had pulled the appropriate tubes from supply, Abby and Stu were chatting like long time colleagues.

In a subdued voice, Abby asked about Commander Rabb's condition. Doctor Studevant explained he had experienced another episode of severe muscle spasms requiring more IV Versed. Abby asked how long it had been since the last administration of the curare and how long the doctor thought the almost tetanic muscle contractions might continue as a reaction.

"Frankly, Abby, this kind of reaction is rare. Now, I have no way of knowing how much curare Mahlberg used; I gather Gibbs hasn't interviewed him yet."

"Not yet. I think he wants to see that I have completed our part of evidence gathering for the JAGman into the F-14 shoot out, before he really gets too deep into the investigation of the murder attempt on the Commander."

As they neared Harm's room, Stu advised Abby, "If the Commander is conscious, he may have his eras confused. The versed, you know."

She nodded. "I am familiar with the possible side effects."

"Yeah, well, unfortunately, Harm is having the full spectrum - amnesia, nausea, feeling drunk, room spinning, dizzy." He opened the door.


Harm was seeking clarification from Sturgis. "I was flying CAP when I got hurt, right?"

His friend smiled at the question. "Well, at last, the right Rabb era!"

"Hey, it's all Hammer time." Harm grinned a little, but closed his eyes. "You'd think I'd injured my head again."

"Hammer time?" Abby asked the doctor quietly.

"Hammer is the Commander's call sign." The doctor explained. "Why do you say it's like a head injury, Harm?"

The aviator's eyes flew open and he immediately grabbed the covers like a lifeline, clutching them in a tight grasp. Sotto voce, he remarked to the younger Turner, as he closed his eyes again. "I thought you said we are on the Seahawk?"

"We are, roomie." Sturgis assured him.

"I'm making a house call." The doctor explained. He was at Harm's bedside now.

Without opening his eyes, Harm quietly recited. "When I open my eyes, the room spins; I get nauseated, dizzy and throw up, Stu. Reminds me of my last concussion, y'know?"

"Yeah. Well, this time I had the head injury." Turner said gently, but he was looking at his friend with deep concern.

"Are you less nauseated with your eyes closed?" Stu asked.

"Not much," the legal eagle admitted, "but, seeing the room spin makes me feel even worse. It really screws up my situational awareness."


Mac smiled. "You can take the pilot out of the cockpit; but you can't take aviation out of his lingo." She was sitting alongside his bed on the opposite side from Sturgis.

Harm let a tiny smile tug at his lips. "Sort of like, 'once a Marine, always a Marine', Mac."

"Point made." She conceded. She was looking at Abby appraisingly and wondering how Harm would react, if he opened his eyes and saw her standing at the foot of his bed.

The Goth chick met the Marine's gaze with equal curiosity.

At that moment, Harm did open one eye, catch sight of Abby and opened his other eye so he could gape at her with both a second. "Well, you must be NCIS, because that outfit certainly isn't standard Navy issue!" After that assessment he closed his eyes again. "Sorry, ma'am, don't mean to be rude, but watching a Goth spin is making me feel even worse. No offense. It's just the dark hair, dark clothes. Look, I really didn't mean to sound that way."

"You are nowhere near sounding offensive to me, Commander." Abby assured him. "However, I thought I was dressed pretty conservatively. And don't ma'am me, makes me feel old."

"All things are relative." Harm responded, still with his eyes closed. "On a ship full of mostly Navy and a few Marines, you do stand out, especially the rings. In this case, ma'am is a term of respect for any person of the female gender. It's how my grandmother brought me up. You are definitely Goth – right?"

"I never said you were wrong, sir. You aren't being rude to keep your eyes closed, under the circumstances, so chill out. No offense is being taken."

"Thanks, Miss ___?"

"Abby," she replied quickly. "Abby Sciuto. And, you were spot on about me being NCIS. I am in Forensics. So your powers of observation seem undimmed."

"You are getting blood to match up from mine in and on my Tomcat, I imagine." He said quietly.

"Yes sir."

"Chain of evidence and all…" He rambled on. "So, how much blood do you need?"

"Just one tube, Commander." Abby assured him, feeling the man deserved her showing him respect, even though it wasn't required of her.

Stu was taking his pulse and checking his bandage as the others chatted. "Harm, I need to give your lungs a listen."

"Yeah." The man replied, indifferently. "I figured you would. Tell me when I have to inhale and all."

"Not this time. Just breathe normally." He pulled the covers away from Harm's chest to listen. Abby could not hold back an admiring glance at the man's physique, which earned her a warning glare from the female Marine at his bedside. Damn, Gibbs hadn't been kidding. This man was good looking and what a body! How had a hunk like him stayed single all these years?

"You must work out a lot, Commander." She remarked, almost challenging the Marine female officer. She didn't see a ring on either person's wedding band finger, so if the Marine felt ownership there was no evidence it was actually true.

Harm's left eyebrow went up, but his eyes stayed closed. "Just because I'm a lawyer, doesn't mean I want to get sloppy." He replied, even toned, but he was blushing slightly.

Stu frowned. "Harm, turn to your right a bit for me."

Sturgis reached down and helped his friend roll up on his side a little. The doctor bent and listened carefully, frowning even more. He sighed aloud, which finally made Harm open his eyes and look over at him. "What's wrong, doc?" The aviator asked.

"We'll have to get inhalation therapy in here every hour, Commander."

"Oh, god." Harm groaned. "Not the dreaded clown, please."

"And some inhalation of some medication to open these passageways up better. There is more fluid accumulating, Rabb. I'm not letting this go into full blown pneumonia."

Harm's eyes closed again and an expression of resignation came to his face. "Well, I don't want pneumonia either, Stu, but God, that stuff they'll make me inhale makes me puke, too. I'm sick of this. I want to go home."

"We are a ways from even being able to move you back to Bethesda." Stu advised him.

"Just an evening's CAP, Rabb. Just a walk in the park." Harm was grousing.

"Yeah, well, you got mugged, my friend." Sturgis tried to sound sympathetic, but he was actually relieved Rabb had enough energy and spunk to complain.


For some reason, Harm said softly. "I'm sorry I called you Diane when I first woke up, Sarah."

"It is okay, Harm. I told you I understood you couldn't help it. The meds made you disoriented and I do look like her."

"Yeah, but I could never forget you, Sarah. I don't want you to think I could…or that I mix you up with her anymore. I don't." It was clear it was very important to Harm to make this fact crystal clear.

"Harm, relax. I believe you. I understand - really."

"Sure?" He asked again.

"I'm absolutely sure." She stood and kissed his cheek gently to bring the point home.

"Thanks." He added, quietly.


At this interaction, Abby allowed a slight expression of shock to come to her face. There was something more between Colonel and Commander Lawyer than just working together, that much was evident. Things were getting curiouser and curiouser, as Alice might say. They were dancing right up to the limits now and the doctor and Commander Turner were not acting a bit surprised or shocked, so the facts here were clearly understood by both of them as well. File that under interesting info, for sure.

Stu said. "I need to draw some blood, Harm." He put a tourniquet on Harm's arm that did not have an IV and requested. "Make a fist for me."

The commander complied. "Just don't roto rooter me, doc. I'd rather have more than one stick than that - okay?"

"Rabb, I think I can get a vein on the first try." The doctor said without malice. A nice vein popped right up on the wrist and the man eased the needle of the evac tube in to it and snapped the first vial in. "I'll need a few tubes." He remarked.

"Naturally. By the time you vampires get done drawing blood, I'll need another transfusion."

"Harm, whining isn't attractive in an adult male." The Marine jibed gently.

"Mac, don't start picking on me. I don't feel good." He said, without any real malice or even challenge in his tone. In fact, his voice was beginning to lose energy and his face was drawing up in a grimace. The muscle contractions were getting stronger again.

"Can you try and relax?" Stu said, gently. "Or do I need to run some more Versed in?"

"Please, no." There was urgency in his plea, but his efforts to control the spasms were a dismal failure and he added, with resignation. "I really hate that stuff. It's better than the curare, but not much." His eyes were still closed, so Rabb didn't see when Stu reached up and opened the IV of versed up for several moments before closing it off. "Oh, God, here we go again." He said, as the meds hit. "Sturg, I need a __"

Sturgis put the basin to the side of his face, but Harm surrendered to unconsciousness instead.

Stu watched him closely a moment and saw that even though he was out, the nausea was still affecting him as Harm was gagging. He took a syringe from his pocket and added some compazine to the mix. He wasn't happy about it, but the last thing Rabb needed was to aspirate while vomiting.

Abby watched the whole episode with a real feeling of empathy for the handsome man in the bed. His ordeal clearly wasn't over yet. The black man sitting next to him noticed her concerned gaze and offered her an appreciative smile. Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. seemed to have friends who really cared about him. She was glad to see that.

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  • FWWATT Chapter 7 Section Five -- Sylvia Mohr Bartlett, 14:07:48 03/04/06 Sat
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