| Subject: 'Carnival' - Part One |
Author:
Daenar
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Date Posted: 14:27:40 07/24/02 Wed
Author: Daenar (daenarchurill@hotmail.com)
Title: Carnival
Rating: PG-13, Romance (H/M), Humor, Crime
Disclaimer: JAG is property of Bellisarius Productions, no copyright infringement intended, just having some fun...
Spoiler: Harm and Mac are sent to Venice on a rather strange investigation. Besides, it’s carnival season... (Boomerang, Lifeline)
Author’s note: This is my very first fanfic ever. Don’t be too harsh with me. And English is not my mother tongue. So, please, don’t be too harsh on my language skills, either. Regarding the story: My fiancé is an Italian navy officer from Venice, and I actually witnessed the inauguration of the “Venice Port Authority Gondola”.
___________________________________________________________________________
Feb. 24th
1407 ZULU
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, VA
“Good morning, sir. I’m sorry, sir, traffic...” Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. left his speech unfinished as he noticed the admiral’s severe stare. Coming to attention, he inwardly sighed and hoped this would be over soon.
“Traffic, right?” Admiral AJ Chegwidden fixed his eyes just a moment longer than was necessary on the commander’s face and then cleared his throat. He didn’t have the time today to get into his senior lawyer’s lack of timing once again so for now he would just let it pass. But he still had to suppress a grin at seeing how his SEAL-trained killing stare was obviously intimidating the normally self-confident ex-aviator. So he just glared at him for two more seconds before saying: “At ease. Have a seat.”
Harm sat down in front of his CO’s desk and tried not to make too much noise as he let out his breath which he had subconsciously been holding. Wondering slightly why this time AJ had let him off the hook this easily, he cast a quick glance sideways to where his partner was already sitting, punctual as always.
Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie caught his expression, cocked her eyebrow and tried not to smile too widely. Her “I-could-have-bet-you-would-be-late” grin could wait for now. She, too, was slightly taken aback that AJ had made no further comment. He must have to say something really important.
“Colonel, Commander, I know you barely returned from your last assignment in Turkey, but I fear I have to send you away again ASAP.” From the not too well suppressed frowns that were showing on his officers’ faces AJ knew that, although he was in the position to order them, he would still owe them afterwards. They had been away for almost seven weeks on a heavy sexual-harassment case. This was their first day back at JAG. At least this time the destination seemed somewhat nicer. “The Secnav called me yesterday to request your immediate departure to direct a... well... let’s say... an investigation that could turn out a little tricky on the diplomatic level.” He let his words sink in and watched his officers’ expressions change from frustration to mild curiosity.
“Where are we headed, sir?” If Mac was upset she was careful not to let it show.
“Venice.”
Harm and Mac exchanged a surprised glance. AJ noted it seemed a positive surprise to them, as he had hoped it would.
“What’s the case?” Harm’s expression was perfectly neutral.
“Theft. Committed by two American sailors. Add drunk and disorderly.”
Mac raised her eyebrows. “Sir,” she began carefully, “Why should the Secnav insist that you
send us to investigate? The Mediterranean office could surely...”
“That’s what I thought, Colonel,” AJ cut her off. “Maybe you should ask what they stole.”
Harm threw Mac a quick puzzled smile and then turned his attention back to the admiral.
“So, what exactly did they steal, sir?”
“The Venice Port Authority’s gondola.”
“The V...” Harm’s eyes almost popped out of their holes and his words faded away. Mac just stared at her CO.
AJ again fought hard not to smile. “Yes, Commander, you heard me right. It seems that, in 1999, the admiral commanding the Venice Port Authority had a traditional gondola especially built for official purposes. From what the Secnav tells me, the Italian navy considers this boat a valuable symbol of how traditions are kept up in the military and of how the maritime traditions of the ancient grand Republic of Venice have become a substantial basis for the Italian navy itself. Italy is one of our most important NATO partners in the Mediterranean region. It seems that the... well, let’s call it disappearance of the gondola has caused quite a bit of disturbances in military diplomatic circles right up into Brussels headquarters.”
“Oops.” Harm stated under his breath.
Mac suppressed a giggle. “Who are the suspects, sir?”
AJ put on his spectacles and looked onto the file that lay open on his desk. “One Petty Officer Second Class Alan Merriner and one Seaman Paul Quinn, currently serving on board the USS Cole. The Cole is conducting a minesweeping operation in the southern Adriatic, still related to the Kosovo activities. They had come to Venice for a weekend. It seems that when the navy gondola was missing the Italians initiated a thorough search and quickly found it, around 0130, stuck in a narrow canal near Rialto, Merriner and Quinn peacefully snoring inside.”
“The case seems rather clear to me, sir,” Harm ventured carefully. “They got drunk, felt like doing something out of the ordinary, and then...” He let his voice trail off, insinuating the course of the events.
AJ sighed. “If it were just for the facts, you wouldn’t need to go to Europe again, Harm. The culprits confessed, they are currently waiting to be court-martialed. It’s the diplomatic dimension that’s worrying the guys in the Pentagon. The Secnav thinks we need to make the Italians see that we fully understand the importance of their traditions and therefore send two of our top personnel to prosecute. And smooth the seas by getting in touch with society, by the way. It seems that our main task will be playing as decorum to military diplomatic circles.”
“Did you say ‘our’, sir?” Mac asked.
“Yes. I’m accompanying you.” AJ smiled. “I thought if the US Navy would bother to send
their two top lawyers to handle the prosecution and if, in addition to that, the Judge Advocate General himself would bother to join the crowd on the diplomatic parquet, the Italians should get some hint that we do in fact honor their traditions and take this matter seriously. Besides, but keep this off-record, please, I do happen to have a daughter in Italy...”
Harm and Mac exchanged another smile. “Well, sir, see you at the airport, I guess.” Harm began to look forward to their upcoming journey.
AJ stood. His officers hurriedly did the same and came to attention again. “Go home and pack your things. Fortunately Commanders Turner and Mattoni don’t have too heavy caseloads. They will take what I had planned to assign to you. Ah, one more detail. The social events I was talking about include a costume ball. Francesca promised to procure us the suitable costumes. It’s carnival season in Venice. See you at Dulles at...” AJ once again fixed his glance sharply on Harm, “1900 sharp. You too, Commander, do I make myself clear?” he thundered.
Harm swallowed and kept his eyes straight in front. “Yes, sir!”
“Dismissed.”
“Aye, aye, sir!” Harm and Mac chorused, turned and left the office.
Outside Harm took a heavy breath. “Boy, that was close,” he muttered.
Mac crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Isn’t it always?” she asked with a cocky smile.
Harm frowned and judged it wise to pass over her comment as they went to their offices.
“Can I pick you up for the airport?” he asked instead.
Mac turned and smiled. “I suppose even you won’t be late two times within twelve hours, right? Expecting you at 1815, Commander. And don’t forget your mask.”
“Mask? Didn’t the admiral say that Francesca would see to our costumes?”
“Sure. But I thought that in the unlikely event of your being late again you might want to go incognito...” Mac grinned widely. Harm decided she was enjoying herself way too much.
“Wait till you’re late yourself once, jarhead”, he snapped back, half joking, half hurt. “I know it might not be for a very long time. But it will happen. And I swear I’m gonna be there to see it.”
2317 ZULU
Mac’s apartment
Georgetown, D.C.
“Two minutes and seventeen seconds, squid.” Mac raised her eyebrows in mocking disapproval. “But you’re improving. You had seven minutes and thirty-one this morning.”
Harm bit back his reply as he slammed the door of his SUV shut and walked over to where his partner was standing on the sidewalk. He was starting to get angry about her steady allusions but what was making him angrier still, was that he knew that she was right. “Got your society outfit together?” he said, referring to her unusually big suitcase and trying to flash her one of his famous smiles. It ended up more a strained frown. ‘Damn,’ he thought, ‘Am I about to lose the very last weapon that ever worked on this lady?’
Mac sensed that though he knew she was right, Harm was vexed by her comment. She resolved to spare him any further teasing for the present. Venice could turn out to be a nice trip, for a change. She was secretly excited at the prospect of being in the world’s most romantic city, at her side the one man she had ever truly loved in her life. Although she knew that he would probably never return her feelings, she sure didn’t want to spoil those days with him. So she smiled at him and replied to his question: “Yes, although I must admit it was a bit of work to pick out the right things. Besides the uniform I had to pack something warm, something not so warm – we’re going to Italy, after all, you know – something casual, something for grand receptions, something for not so big but yet official occasions, something for...”
“O.k., I see. Stop it!” Harm was laughing now, his earlier gruffness seemingly forgotten. Mac felt more relief than she would let show on her face.
“Let’s say that I won’t make you blush for my appearance, sailor,” she laughed.
He stopped and for a moment silently looked at her. “You would never, Mac,” he said quietly.
Feeling herself blush and unable to bear the intense scrutiny of his eyes Mac looked down, smiling shyly, and silently got into the car.
Harm loaded her luggage into the boot, got in beside her and they headed for Dulles. “Lots of comfortable shoes, I suppose?” he asked to ease the slight tension that was palpable between them.
“You bet.” She said with a grin and fell silent again. ‘A good career, a nice man and lots of comfortable shoes’ – well, certainly two out of three was a good thing, but she still sighed with the realization that her nice man was sitting next to her, yet far out of her reach as long as he wouldn’t resolve to finally let his guard down, let go. As he had pointed out to her on the admiral’s front porch on the day of her engagement party, losing control was lethal for a pilot. And Harm was too much of a pilot in his heart to make a difference between his professional and personal attitudes.
“What’s up?” Harm’s voice was concerned. Mac realized she must have sighed more heavily than she thought.
“Uhm, nothing really,” she tried her escape. “Must be the fact that here we are again on our way to the airport. We weren’t even home for 48 hours.”
If Harm doubted her excuse he didn’t allude to it. “Yeah. Pretty hard. Did you ever come to see Jingo?”
“I went to get him yesterday evening from my neighbor. I’m only grateful that she just loves him and didn’t object to taking him again when I asked her today. Poor old dog. At least he got to sleep on my bed yesterday night.”
Harm grinned at her comment. But inwardly he was surprised to feel a slight touch of jealousy towards his four-legged friend. Jingo could do whatever he wanted and still always ended up on Mac’s blanket. After all things that he himself had screwed up between him and Mac in the course of the last three years, Harm was sure he would never even get near to holding her in his arms at night, feeling the softness of her skin, taking in her scent, loving... ‘Get a grip, Hammer!’ he scolded himself angrily as he had to step on the brakes to avoid colliding with the car in front of him that had suddenly slowed down while he had been swept away by his fantasies.
Mac jumped and looked at him with upraised eyebrows. “Should we eject, flyboy?”
Harm’s glance softened somewhat at her remark. “Sorry.” He smiled a little sheepishly.
They rode on in their awkward silence until they arrived at Dulles, both trying to focus on anything but their partners.
2358 ZULU
Dulles International Airport
Washington, D.C.
Admiral Chegwidden checked his watch and smiled a barely noticeable smile. His officers had two minutes to show up – otherwise he would show off a little, at least in front of the commander. If they were late AJ knew it wouldn’t be Mac’s fault. Detecting a movement at the far end of the corridor that led to the gate, AJ looked up and grinned broadly. A tall figure, clad in navy blue, carrying a bag and a suitcase and trying to keep his white cover tugged under his arm, and a somewhat shorter, slender figure, clad in Marine green, carrying a couple of bags and a board case, came running towards him. From the expression on the colonel’s face when they came nearer AJ could see that he had been right. Mac seemed to be fuming.
“Reporting... as... ordered... sir!” Harm gasped, coming to attention as did Mac.
“At ease, Colonel, Commander. Rabb, you are on time. Colonel’s influence?” AJ smirked, winking at Mac whose expression softened.
“On the way the commander remembered that he had to get some things from the drugstore, sir. We had to stop. Beg your pardon, sir,” Mac said, obviously not fully succeeding to calm herself about Harm’s lack not only of timing, but also of organization.
“Overlooked for the moment. As I said, you’re still on time. So, what do you say, ‘andiamo, ragazzi?’” the admiral smiled nonchalantly and made a wide gesture towards the check-in desk.
Mac gave Harm a half-forgiving smile and took the lead to the counter. Harm, grinning, shook his head at his irritable Marine and followed her. AJ silently resolved to be on his guard to save his officers from one another’s temperaments once again.
Finally they were all settled on board their Boeing 777 to Frankfurt, Germany. Harm tried to extend his legs best as he could without blocking the aisle. AJ did the same on the other side. Next to Harm, Mac had already cuddled up into what seemed to Harm an impossible position to endure, but she appeared to be comfortable. Take-off was delayed by only ten minutes and around 2100 ROMEO – 0300 ALPHA according to their destination – they found themselves eating their dinner and trying to decide whether to watch a movie or go to sleep. AJ was the first to doze off.
“Cute, isn’t he?” Mac whispered, leaning over to Harm and motioning towards the admiral who slept with his mouth half open.
Harm grinned back. “Yeah. Don’t know why I was ever afraid of SEALS,” he retorted in a low voice.
Mac playfully slapped him on the arm. “Don’t get your nose up too high. I saw you today...”
As Harm only lowered his eyes with a faked guilty look, she chuckled happily. “Got you. Big time, squid!” Then she, in vain, tried to stifle another yawn.
“Get some sleep, Marine,” Harm softly suggested, gently tugging her in with the airline blanket. Mac closed her eyes and sighed contently. It felt so good to be taken care of by Harmon Rabb.
“Good night, flyboy,” she murmured, already half asleep.
“Good night, Mac,” Harm answered. He was trying to find a sleeping position as well when he started as he felt her stirring, shifting and finally, smiling peacefully in her sleep, cuddling up against his side. Carefully he slid an arm behind her neck and made her head rest against his cheek, deciding that there was no better resting position to be found than holding Sarah Mackenzie close to him. He watched her for some moments, then gently brushed a strand of hair from her nose and, following an impulse of the moment, softly kissed her on the forehead.
“Sweet dreams, Marine,” he whispered, smiling, and closed his eyes.
0847 ZULU
United Airlines Flight 978
Somewhere above the Irish west coast
Admiral Chegwidden stretched his arms and legs and shaded his eyes against the bright sunlight flooding the cabin. Looking over to his subordinates he couldn’t fight a smile at what he saw. Rabb was holding Mac encircled in his arms. A blanket covered them up to their waistlines and another was spread over Mac’s upper body. The arm rest between them had been put up so that she could lean over to him without encountering any obstacles. She was resting across his broad chest, slightly smiling as if in a sweet dream. Harm’s chin rested on her head, his even breathing making some strands of her dark brown hair move. AJ decided he would spare them the embarrassment of knowing that he had seen them like this. True, location didn’t change who they were. But he was their friend, too, not only their CO. And as their friend he would let them stay like they were as long as they liked, while he pretended to be sleeping himself and thus spared them the need to make excuses for conduct unbecoming officers.
1356 ZULU
Marco Polo Airport
Venice, Italy
“Admiral Chegwidden, sir?” AJ, Mac and Harm had barely exited the terminal when they heard the voice. They stopped in their tracks and looked around. Then Mac spotted a young Italian navy officer approaching and made Harm and AJ turn into the right direction. The young man, with a shy smile, came to attention before them.
“Admiral, ma’am, sir, I am Sottotenente di Vascello, uhm, that is, Lieutenant j.g. Federico Prumetti, Venice Port Authority liaisons officer. I am supposed to pick you up and accompany you to the Arsenale.”
The three American officers greeted the young lieutenant in return. “At ease,” AJ motioned. The young man relaxed visibly, never lacking the appearance of an officer and gentleman, though.
‘He is so cute,’ Mac thought, smiling. ‘He clearly has high principles about what an officer should be like, but his shyness obviously threatens to get in the way, making him a little stiff. He could use some of Harm’s flyboy attitude...”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Just out of curiosity, where did you learn English?” AJ was really curious to hear that one. Heck, Prumetti sounded as if he had come straight from the Scottish highlands.
“My mother is from Edinburgh, sir,” Prumetti smiled, the slightest trace of pride shimmering through his formal sentence. “Her maiden name was MacKenna,” he added with a quick smiling side-glance at Mac.
‘O.k., I take it back that he still needs advice on being charming.’ Mac bit her lip not to smile too broadly. ‘He just pulls it off the other way round. If I was a girl in my early twenties...’ She acknowledged that even physically Harm and Prumetti weren’t too far from one another. Harm was some inches taller, though, and Prumetti had slightly darker eyes, but they sure shared the weapon of a women-killing smile.
“Oh, I see,” AJ said. “And I understand you are aware of who my officers are. Nevertheless,” he smiled, “Just to stick to rules of society: meet Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie and Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., my top lawyers with the Judge Advocate General Corps.”
“Ma’am, sir...” Prumetti slightly bowed.
Harm grinned. This guy seemed to be just fine, a little stiff maybe, but sure nice. “Nice to meet you, Lieutenant.”
“Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant”, Mac echoed, smiling.
Prumetti suddenly seemed to remember what he had come for. “Uh... this way, if you please, ma’am, sirs,” he said, taking Mac’s luggage and heading straight to a small docking facility. Harm and AJ exchanged a look of ‘here’s someone who definitely studied behavior’ and followed Mac who had caught up with the lieutenant. A motorboat was waiting for them. They stepped on board and left for the lagoon city.
Foamy waves were splashing high on both sides of their boat as the driver, a middle-aged enlisted, drove at what they thought must be forbidden speed. Wooden poles marked the waterway. Harm and Mac were standing in the back of the boat, enjoying the fresh air and the view of the old city they were approaching. The admiral had preferred to stay in the cabin as he was trying to change the frequency his cell-phone was working on, in order to adjust it to Italian standard and then call Francesca.
“This is so great,” Mac shouted over the sounds of the roaring motor and the splashing waves.
“Feels like being to some oversized museum,” Harm shouted back.
“In former times the Venetians used to take away the wooden poles when enemies tried to attack them from the water,” Prumetti explained as he joined them outside. “So the ships would run ashore on the lagoon mud and become an easy prey.”
Harm raised an eyebrow. “That’s mean. But then, didn’t the Venetians have trouble getting their own ships out with the poles gone?”
“No, sir,” Prumetti shouted and grinned, “Venetians just know the tides and the hidden waterways. We grow up with them, we don’t need markings.” The pride in his voice was palpable.
“I see,” Mac smiled. “So you are half Scottish and half Venetian?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
They entered a small canal and slowed down. The sun had come out and found its rays reflected in the windows of the century-old houses that, without any walkways, emerged from the water on both sides of the canal.
“We are on high-tide, sir,” Prumetti said. “If you would please take care of your head.”
Harm had been watching out to the back and, turning, made it right in time to duck as they were crossing under a small bridge. He silently resolved to keep looking in front from now on. Suddenly the canal opened and gave way to a sight that left them breathless. They had reached the inner basin. To their right, Prumetti explained to them, they saw the Piazzetta, a square that led up to St. Mark’s place. And in fact, through the gap between the two huge columns that respectively bore the Lion of Venice and St. George with the Dragon, they spotted the huge cathedral. Innumerable groups of tourists were streaming to and fro, and the embankment with moored gondolas and souvenir vendors looked as if it were ripped right from a movie set. Mac and Harm stared in awe. AJ who had already seen this, having once been married to an Italian, enjoyed watching his protégés.
They were riding parallel to the shore. Prumetti pointed out the Palazzo Ducale to them, where the rulers of the Venetian republic had resided, and the ancient prison, the dreaded Chambers of Lead that lay just on the other side of the palace separated from it by a small canal.
“You can count those on one hand who ever escaped from under the leaded roofs, ma’am, sirs,” Prumetti explained. “But if you would like to know any particulars, just read the memoirs of Casanova. He managed.”
Casanova. Mac had slightly different thoughts at the sound of the name. ‘So he wrote his memoirs, did he? Now wouldn’t they be exactly the kind of literature you were inclined to read on a trip to Venice with a gorgeous man at your side,’ she asked herself, resolving to look for the book and trying to refrain from smiling.
Prumetti indicated the covered bridge that, at the height of what Harm estimated to be the second floor, connected the palace to the prison. “It’s called the Bridge of Sighs,” Prumetti went on. “Because people who were lead that way knew they’d probably never see the light again and so they sighed.” Harm shuddered at the thought. ‘The concept of jurisdiction in those days...’ he mused.
“Nowadays the bridge is very popular with the tourists,” Prumetti added with a wink and a smile.
“How’s that?” Mac asked, once again wondering about how perverse people’s likings could get.
“Because they say that when two true lovers kiss while they pass under it, their love will never die and they shall be united in eternity.”
Eternity. There was the dreaded word again. Harm felt himself cringing inwardly as he always did when this word that he had come to hate seemed to pop up from nowhere to catch him off-guard and remind him over and over again of the biggest mistake he had ever made in his life. And, as he realized with growing horror, here again the word was connected to a bridge, like it had been back in Sydney. And once again he and Mac were on another continent.
‘Location doesn’t change who we are,’ he heard himself say to her in his memories. He remembered the look of utmost hurt and vulnerability that shone in her huge dark eyes. Still, three years and too many experiences later, it felt like a dagger in his heart. He knew it would haunt him until the end of his days.
He had pushed her away when she had had the courage to bare her soul to him. He hadn’t wanted to deny his feelings but he had been scared like hell of being so close to her. Harm had long since given up on counting how many times he had afterwards tried to think of another way how he could have reacted. A way that would have united him with her like he had longed to be even back then. A way that wouldn’t have pushed her into the arms of Mic Brumby, sparing both of them the pain of her yearlong engagement. It all came to nothing in the end. He couldn’t undo the past.
Subconsciously Harm turned his gaze in Mac’s direction and found her watching him. Had her thoughts been wandering the same paths as his had? ‘Mac, my mind is an open book before you. I can offer no excuses for my cowardice. I only hope that some day I will be able to make it up to you. You may be past your feelings for me but I want you to know that I am not. And I am still working on my courage to tell you some day.’
Harm didn’t think Mac could have got any hint of the meaning he had – not entirely of his own will – put into his glance. But then he suddenly saw something in her huge brown eyes. A something that he wasn’t quite able to define. Understanding? Hope? Forgiveness? And for the fraction of a second he was sure she could see that he had detected it.
Harm averted his stare, unable to maintain the intense eye contact. But in the back of his mind a thought began to form. A thought that he felt might ease his pain. ‘Maybe,’ the little voice was saying, ‘Maybe you need another bridge, another eternity, to undo the wrong and do right this time. Maybe this is your second chance.’ All of a sudden feeling a totally unreasonable inclination to let his uprising tears flow, but fighting it down, Harmon Rabb, Jr. resolved on seizing his opportunity. One of those following days, he would correct his terrible mistake. And he felt like thanking God on his knees for the realization. He would have, had he been alone.
To be continued...
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