| Subject: 'Dissonance' (sequel to 'Carnival') - Part One |
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Daenar
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Date Posted: 14:47:44 07/24/02 Wed
Title: ‘Dissonance’
Author: Daenar (daenarchurill@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG-13, Romance (H/M), Humor, Crime
Disclaimer: JAG is property of Bellisarius Productions, ‘The night will only know’ is performed by Garth Brooks, produced by Allen Reynolds and owned by EMI, no copyright infringement intended
Spoiler: To solve a case, Harm has to rely on his musicality – with Mac going undercover in a naval college marching band. Complications all-inclusive... Independent case, though the storyline is set after the events of ‘Carnival’. It won’t be necessary to read ‘Carnival’ to understand ‘Dissonance’.
Archiving: Feel free, but let me know, please.
Author’s note: I’m a musicologist and music-addicted in every respect. Ever since I’m a JAGnik, I am disappointed to see that Harm’s musical skills have never really been brought into focus by the series. That’s what I’m trying to do now.
DISSONANCE
Tue, May 5th
2327 ZULU
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, VA
“Sir, I’m not sure I can do this.” Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. looked up from the file Admiral AJ Chegwidden had just handed him. Was that actually fear shining in the normally audacious ex-aviator’s eyes? AJ wondered. He had expected Harm to be surprised – to say the least – when he told him of the nature of this assignment. Reluctance to accept had also been a possibility AJ had considered. But fear? After all, this was one of the easier tasks, at least as far as he could tell. Some days’ preparation, a few hours of action, not having to go traveling... ‘Heck, Rabb should be grateful that he gets an easy share!’ AJ frowned. He would try being nice. If it wouldn’t work, he’d order him.
“Harm, Webb tells me he’s absolutely aware that four days of preparation is extremely few, but the date’s set as it is. He says you’re the only one who could possibly take over in such a short time. And although it’s the CIA who guides this whole thing, it’s up to you, Commander, to save the Navy’s honor. Army, Air Force, Marine Corps, the Pentagon and the Foreign Office, Congress, Senate, hell, even the FBI’s involved! Don’t let us down, Harm, even Webb says that he’ll owe you. Consider that one!” AJ had to chuckle despite the situation.
“Who is it I replace and why, sir?” Harm asked wearily. He could see plainly that AJ had made up his mind to once again grant Webb his assistance. And he, like so many other times, was the victim. If at least they were to go in two – with Mac at his side everything would be easier. But this was clearly a one-man operation. Damn.
“The person’s identity is classified. I don’t even know why that is so. I only know the person in question committed suicide. Motive? Classified.” This time AJ’s frown met one of mutual solidarity on Harm’s face. Undersecretary of State Clayton Webb just loved to classify everything.
“And they really couldn’t think of anyone else but me to pull it off, sir?” Harm asked without much hope.
“No. But, anyway, what’s the problem, Harm? You’ve done similar things before, haven’t you?” AJ tried to sound encouraging, thanking God at the same time that he wasn’t in Harm’s position right now.
“I have, sir,” Harm reluctantly conceded, “But never with so many people. I’ve worked with groups of five, maybe ten, but never with as many as eighty. I’m not experienced in this kind of thing.”
“I can make this an order, Commander.”
Harm sighed, exasperated. “I’ll do my very best, sir. But I swear, Webb will owe me biiiiig time.”
“You’ll do just fine. I have great confidence in you, Rabb. Take the rest of the week off to prepare.” AJ smiled and rose.
Harm lifted himself from his chair, tugged the file under his arm and came to attention. “Aye, aye, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
Harm turned and left his C.O., frowning. He headed straight for his office to get his things and go home.
As he sat down at his desk to shut down his computer, Harm saw the message icon blinking. On opening the email, a smile spread over his face.
To: Sarahssailor@freemail.com
From: Sarah Mackenzie (Harmsmarine@freemail.com)
Subject: Feeding a hungry marine
Hey, flyboy,
had to leave early for the dentist (ughh!). You knew that anyway. How about you prepare some pasta that I’ll be able to chew as soon as the narcotics lose their effect? Your place at 1900? Ring me up if there’s a problem. If I don’t hear from you until 1845 (sharp!!), count on me to show up.
Love you!
Mac
‘Well, I can’t wait,’ Harm thought, grinning, feeling his heartbeat accelerate slightly. Ever since their return from Venice they had spent all their evenings together, the person that came over almost always staying the night, too. Communication was mostly conducted by private email as they still hadn’t told anyone that they were an item. They were sure Chegwidden suspected something – after all, it had been him to practically order them to get involved – but surely no one else did. “Not even Harriet,” Harm chuckled under his breath. He and Mac had been discreet to an extent that he would never have thought possible, given the amount of feeling they were sharing. But on the other hand keeping it secret and witnessing people wondering what the colonel and the commander might or might not feel for one another, only added to the suspense.
Suspense – they sure had that in abundance, Harm thought. Always respecting their deal not to rush anything they might regret later on, to work on overcoming their fears first and to take time to explore the incredible extent of their love, was getting a torment at times. Whenever he and Mac were together the tension was sure to rise to no limits. More than once they had been on the verge of giving in to passion and had been saved only by external influence, like the telephone or pizza delivery for instance.
But eventually they had figured out a way to stay as close as they would consider safe for themselves, rejoicing in each other’s company, in the caresses they exchanged and, most of all, in their wonderful friendship that, to their enormous relief, hadn’t been affected by their involvement as they had feared it would be. On the contrary. It had deepened even more. They were no longer soul-mates, they were one heart and one soul, guessing their counterparts’ feelings before they expressed them. Harm felt he had never been happier than he had been these last nine weeks, his Sarah’s loving presence adding a dimension to his life that he hadn’t even known to exist.
At night, when she was sleeping in his arms, he would catch himself looking at her, still unable to fully believe that he wasn’t dreaming. And Mac seemed to flourish in their relationship. Harm hadn’t thought it possible, but she was getting still more beautiful each day. Not only to him. Their friends and colleagues, he knew, were wondering about the gradual changes that were taking place within her. She seemed to be emanating a positive aura that could light up a room when she entered. And in spite of the yet unresolved tension between them, he himself was enjoying a totally new inward calmness, as if he had found a permanent home. ‘I have,’ he admitted to himself, smiling, ‘With her.’
As much as he longed to take the next step, to let physical union follow the spiritual unison they already shared, Harm knew he could wait and stay calm until time was right. They both felt it would be more than just their first time to sleep together. It was more like their first time ever, never having shared this moment with someone they so completely and utterly loved as Harm knew he loved Mac and felt loved by her.
Tearing himself from his musings, he switched off his computer, took the files and things he needed and left the office. ‘Do I have everything for that pasta she wants?’ he asked himself while waiting for the elevator. Deciding he didn’t need to do any more shopping, he quickly got to his SUV and headed home, whistling, thinking of Mac.
2400 ZULU
Harm’s apartment
North of Union Station
Washington, D.C.
Pressing an ice bag to her swollen cheek, Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie, in loose sweats, ascended the stairs to her partner’s apartment. ‘Just a tiny incision – ha ha,’ Mac thought, trying to ignore the pain that kept increasing as the painkillers’ effects were lessening. At the dentist’s she sure had gotten more than she had bargained for. Feeling a slight sensitivity to heat and cold up on the right, she had resolved to have her teeth looked over. But instead of a hole the dentist had discovered a purulent inflammation underneath a molar down on the left that hadn’t yet begun to hurt but would have done so within days. So she had consented to have it opened at once. ‘Something to regret,’ she scolded herself, knowing at the same time that the dentist had been right. At least she had Harm to console and caress her.
Upon arriving in front of his door, she stopped in her tracks and listened. A beautiful, sad melody found its way to her ear, slowly telling of longing and love. Harm was obviously playing his guitar, something he hadn’t done in quite a long time and never yet for her to listen to. Feeling she couldn’t eat for a while anyway, Mac leaned to the door, not daring to make any noise, only listening to his music.
She could tell it was a rather difficult piece that he was practicing. He would interrupt himself at four or five crucial points, repeating and repeating again the difficult passages until he had mastered them. The melody had some kind of a Spanish character, being ornamented with Flamenco-like figures that – Mac could tell without knowing too much about music – required skilled handiwork on the chords. She rested her head against the wall, closed her eyes and let Harm enchant her with his play.
About fifteen minutes later Harm interrupted his practice and almost at once Mac heard her cell-phone ring.
“Open you door, flyboy,” she said instead of a greeting.
“How long have you been there, Mac?” She immediately noticed the concern in his voice.
“Sixteen minutes and twenty-three seconds,” she answered with a smile.
“Oh my God,” she only heard him say before the line went dead and the apartment door opened to reveal a very embarrassed and sorry-looking Harm.
“I’m so sorry, Mac, I must have missed the doorbell,” he started to excuse himself. “I was practicing on my guitar, but it’s strange, I really should have heard it. Why didn’t you use your key, honey?” Putting one hand on hers that was holding the ice bag, Harm gently embraced her and pulled her inside the apartment, closing the door. “Hurt much?”
“Won’t kill me,” Mac retorted, making a face. “What was that music, sailor? It’s beautiful.”
“Joaquín Rodrigo, guitar concerto, second movement, soloist’s part, but again, Mac, why didn’t you come in if you don’t feel well?” Harm, with a concerned frown, gently brushed a strand of hair from her face.
Mac smiled. It felt so good to be cared for. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Mac, you...”
“Let me finish. I was so engrossed by your music that I completely forgot about my pain or that you would be worried when I wouldn’t show up on time. Any reason why you took your instrument out today, squid? You play wonderfully, know that?”
Harm smiled, embarrassed. “Not as well as I should. But I’m working on it. When I got home I felt I needed distraction.”
As she saw the deep frown on his face Mac was on high alert. “What’s up?”
“Webb.”
‘Not again...’ Mac thought, exasperated. “Care to share?”
“Can’t, I’m sorry.”
“Let me guess: classified,” she laughed, a little trace of bitterness shining though her laughter.
“Yup. One-man mission in a really big scenario, only four days at home to prepare myself, filling in for someone. Sunday’s the day,” he explained carelessly.
Mac looked at him with her huge brown eyes. “Whatever it is you’re doing, promise me to be careful, okay? No stunts. I still need you around,” she pleaded. “Do you need to go away?”
“Luckily, no,” he replied with a smile. Then he looked into her eyes and said: “I promise you, Mac, there’s absolutely nothing to worry about. It’s not a routine mission, but I won’t be in danger. Trust me.”
“Okay...” Mac didn’t really sound convinced but she accepted his promise. “Just afraid not to get you back in one piece, flyboy,” she said with a loving smile.
Harm smiled back. “That won’t happen.” And as if to seal the promise, he very tenderly kissed her on the lips, taking care not to cause any hurt to the sore side of her face. “Are you hungry? Okay, rhetorical question. Are you very hungry, Marine?”
Mac gave him the sweetest mixture of a smile and a face. “Yeah, but I won’t be able to eat for another hour, I fear. Why don’t you distract me a little and let me sit on your couch while you take up your music practice again?”
Harm grinned. “I’m flattered. Of course, if you want me to. Only tell me when fifty minutes are over so I can get the pasta done as well.”
“Count on my internal clock and my growling stomach,” she replied, laughing. “They won’t forget your request if I should.”
Harm shook his head, chuckling, and sat down again on his chair, taking up his guitar and staring into the score that lay open on the floor next to him. Then he closed his eyes and, concentrating, seemed to memorize what he had just studied. Upon opening his eyes again he lifted his look to fix it on an indefinite object at the far side of the loft and began to play. Mac just sat and watched in awe. It was as if Harm and his instrument melted into one, the fingers seemingly making no effort whatsoever while dancing on the fingerboard or plucking the chords.
The piece began to inspire her imagination. She saw pictures of a mild summer’s night with stars and a full moon in some far-off country, flanked by the waves of the Mediterranean. She thought she could feel the warm night breeze on her skin as the flowering scales of ornamented melody surrounded her. And she felt the longing of a loving heart calling out to its beloved one. Harm reaching out for her. Mac was totally swept away by Harm’s interpretation. By instinct Harm always guessed the right amount of speed variation, applying or omitting ornaments, so that the music lost nothing of its emotional potential, yet always remaining humble and clear. Mac was so lost in listening that she would literally jump at the times when he would interrupt himself, frowning and swearing in a low voice, to consult the score when he couldn’t remember how to go on.
All too soon she had to remember her promise. “Sorry to interrupt you, Maestro, but your fifty minutes just expired.”
Harm cast her a warm smile and put the guitar down. Stretching for a moment, he lifted himself to full height and then headed to the kitchen. Mac rose and took a seat at the counter to watch him working, knowing he wouldn’t let her help.
“That’s so incredible. They sure lost an artist, when they let you join the navy,” she observed, smiling.
“Mac, don’t!” he shouted, laughing and blushing slightly. “Never give a musician too much praise. Or he’ll stop practicing.”
She joined in his laughter. “But you deserved it.” Her expression sobered. “I only wish in my childhood had been a time and place for music. But then,” her smile returned, though somewhat strained, “Who knows if I’m even musical.”
“You are,” he stated quietly, looking at her with a sincere expression in his eyes.
“What makes you say so?” she inquired.
“Well, firstly, remember our round dance in Venice. If there was one person in the room who placed the steps on the right beat, always anticipating any ‘accelerando’ or ‘ritardando’ in the interpretation...” [A.N.: As the language of music is Italian, imagine all musical terms pronounced in Italian.]
“Any what?”
“Sorry,” he excused himself with an embarrassed smile. “Musicians tend to talk in code. Like pilots.”
“Surprise...” she murmured with a cocked eyebrow.
“Anyway, ‘accelerando’ means accelerating and ‘ritardando’ means slowing down,” he explained, unperturbed. “And you just knew what the band would do and accelerated or slowed down your own steps to stay on the beat. That’s a sure sign of musicality, if there’s any, Mac. And besides,” his grin became a little nasty, “I hear it when you sing in the shower. Intonation’s perfect.” He ducked in time to have a flying grape miss him. It hit the sink.
“Hey!” he protested. “That’s praise coming from a gifted musician.” Another grape hit his forehead.
“Tell me, flyboy,” Mac considered it wise to change the subject to some degree, “Is it normal to memorize something before you play? I mean, I really don’t know much about music, but I think I remember the term of ‘prima-vista’ playing. Doesn’t that mean you play while you read the music? Shouldn’t that be normal?”
“Normally you do, yes,” he acknowledged, “Orchestra players always do. Or the members of a big band. Or in classical chamber music. But for instance many jazz musicians don’t ‘cause they tend to improvise. And soloists in instrumental concertos normally don’t, either. You know, it’s like being on an opera stage. You are the one to tell the piece’s story, with the orchestra following your lead. You wouldn’t wanna do that with your nose stuck in the score, right? You’ve got more room left in your thoughts to express your feelings if you needn’t read while playing.”
“Right. Sounds convincing. So, now that I’ve learnt something, are you gonna feed me, squid?” Mac took plates and cutlery from the cupboards and went over to the table.
“Okay,” Harm said, laughing. He was glad to have Mac at his side right now. She helped him chase away the uneasy feeling he had in his gut when he thought about Clay’s secret one-man assignment. Mac’s presence was comforting, and she was so cute when she ordered him to ‘feed’ her. He just loved her when she did it. But then – didn’t he always love her?
Wed, May 6th
1617 ZULU
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, VA
“Attention on deck!” Petty Officer Jason Tiner yelled as he saw AJ emerge from the elevator. Everyone in the bullpen jumped to their feet and came to attention. AJ strode in the direction of his office, a young man in a foreign country’s navy officer’s uniform following in his tracks. In front of his door AJ turned and addressed his personnel. “At ease. Lt. Sims, get me Col. Mackenzie out here.”
“Aye, sir.” Lieutenant Harriet Sims-Roberts hurried from her desk to the only office that had all the blinds closed, Mac obviously being on the phone with someone. She knocked and waited.
“Come in,” came a muffled voice from the inside.
Harriet stuck her head between the door and the doorpost. “Ma’am, the admiral requests your presence immediately.” She gave Mac a quick wink and a smile which Mac returned, asking herself if Harriet suspected whom she was on the phone with.
“I’ll be right with you, thank you, Lieutenant.” The head of the young blonde disappeared and Mac quickly turned her attention back to the person on the other end of the line. “I gotta go, Harm. Admiral’s calling.”
He could hear her smile. “Go, Marine. Love you!”
“Love you, too, flyboy.” Mac hung up the receiver and stepped into the bullpen. Taking a quick look around, she suddenly froze and stared.
Harriet had noticed the colonel’s amazement at seeing the foreign officer. Did she know him?
Mac inwardly scolded herself for having lost her composure. She shot the young man a quick smile and expectantly faced the admiral who was fighting hard to hide his smirk at her reaction. Then he took a close look at Mac’s jaw that on one side was all blue, only badly hidden by her make-up.
“What happened to you, Colonel?”
“Dentist, sir,” was all she said.
“Want me to sue him?” AJ asked with an upraised eyebrow.
Mac suppressed a giggle. “Not necessary, sir. He got to know my right hook.”
“Ouch,” AJ stated dryly. Then he cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, with Lt. Roberts still working hard in rehab and Cmdr. Imes currently assigned to Great Lakes office, I was very pleased to hear that several years after the last... inspiring experience with the officers exchange program,” he cast Mac a hint of a look as everybody slightly winced at the allusion to Mic Brumby, “It’s now once again our turn to welcome an addition to our team.” By now AJ’s smile was genuine again. Mac succeeded in banishing any thoughts of Mic from her mind.
AJ continued: “Let me present to you a promising young lawyer who has been assigned to us to get to know our work and help us out a little while Roberts and Imes are away.”
Mac saw Harriet’s face cloud as it always did when her husband’s dreadful injury was in any way mentioned. Well, at least Bud finally seemed to have gotten over the state of fatalism to his being disabled. It had been Harriet’s news that she was expecting another child that had finally broken through the walls he had built up around himself. Sure, Bud had tried to get back on track as soon as he had been released from the hospital and had learnt to manage his life with only one leg. But he had grown more cold and distant to everyone each day, obviously afraid of making himself receptive to his memories, would he have opened up. He had cut down rehab exercises to the minimum as if he had even wanted to forget the physical consequences of the blast.
It must have been seeing Harriet at the verge of losing it all to her despair on the revelation that she was pregnant, that had made something click in Bud’s head. He had instantly taken leave and gone to a reputed long-term rehab institution in Massachusetts and was working harder than any of them had ever thought possible.
Exchanging a quick comforting glance with a grateful Harriet, Mac turned her attention back to the admiral who went on: “The newest member of our team just arrived all the way from Italy and has been telling me ever since I picked him up at the airport how eager he is to meet everyone. I present to you Lieutenant, j.g. Federico Prumetti, former Venice Port Authority’s liaisons officer.”
Prumetti bowed slightly in his unique old-fashioned way, smiling and silently greeting everyone as he listened to AJ’s introductions. AJ went on. “Lieutenant, let me introduce you to my staff. You already know Col. Mackenzie.” Mac exchanged a heartfelt smile with her and Harm’s friend from their last abroad mission while AJ stepped over to the two African-American officers standing next to her.
“This is Commander Sturgis Turner and Lieutenant Commander Alan Mattoni, over here we have Lieutenant Harriet Sims. Lt. Sims’s husband, Lt. Bud Roberts, is right now recovering from a very serious landmine accident he suffered a year ago in Afghanistan.” A shadow quickly passed over AJ’s face – Prumetti presumed this would be the largest extent that AJ allowed his feelings to be seen.
The admiral went on. “Over there would be the office of Lieutenant Commander Carolyn Imes who currently helps out at Great Lakes.” Passing on to a young blonde who seemed to be extremely vexed that she would be presented only now, AJ said: “This is Lieutenant Lauren Singer.” Somehow the Italian lieutenant got the impression that the admiral’s voice was less enthusiastic about her...
“And this is my yeoman, Petty Officer Jason Tiner,” AJ concluded as he stepped over to Tiner’s desk near his door. “Uhm,” he added quickly, “Just for the record: Cmdr. Rabb’s office is over there. Rabb will be here again next week. Lieutenant, you can take Cmdr. Imes’s office while you’re with us. That will be all for now. Welcome again to JAG headquarters and I hope you’ll make the most of your stay.”
“Thank you very much, sir, I’ll do my very best,” Prumetti answered. Mac noted with a smirk that everyone started at the Italian lieutenant’s superb Edinburgh pronunciation.
All said, AJ turned and vanished into his office. As soon as he was gone Mac would allow her enthusiasm to break through, other people’s voices once again beginning to hum. “Fred, now that’s great news!” she shouted, walking to properly greet her Mediterranean friend by two near-kisses, one on each cheek.
“Colonel, ma’am...” Fred trailed off, embarrassed.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” Mac replied sheepishly. “I was so happy hearing you’d come to work with us that I even forgot we’re on duty. Anyway, I’m really, really glad to see you and I’m sure Harm will be as well, as soon as he learns of your presence. How long will you stay?”
“Well, six months for now, ma’am, with an option, though, to make it one year,” Fred replied, relaxing a little at her warm welcome.
“Did you bring Claire?”
“Yes, ma’am, and, by the way, she sends her love. She would have liked to come this morning but she has to work.”
Mac realized that she had never asked her friend what his fiancée did to earn her life. “Where’s she working?”
“Her aunt’s got a medical studio in Annapolis.”
“She’s a doctor?”
“Yes, an obstetrician and a gynecologist. Graduated three months ago in London. In fact, when you first knew her in Venice, she was on grad vacation, ma’am. She’ll be doing her practical year here in D.C.”
“Schedules fit perfectly, then,” Mac observed, still with an enormous smile lighting up her face. “Wait till I tell Harm... or you know what? Let’s call him! But first meet your new colleagues and get your stuff into your office. And remember when you call him: Harm isn’t on duty right now...” With a wink she took one of the cases a clerk had just brought upstairs and vanished in the direction of Carolyn’s deserted office before a dumbfounded Fred could say another word.
“Don’t worry, Lieutenant, she’s been a little strange of late, but in a way that certainly benefits her. Lt. Sims,” Harriet extended her hand. Fred took it with a smile.
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am. Definitely,” he let his glance wander at Mac’s back, “The colonel’s changed since I met her in Venice. Any reason, ma’am?”
Harriet gave him a clueless shrug and a genuine smile. “None that we succeeded to figure out yet, Lieutenant. So you know the colonel and Cmdr. Rabb and the admiral from their assignment in Venice?”
Fred nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” A suspicion about the nature of Mac’s changes had begun to rise in the back of his mind but he kept it hidden. It wasn’t up to him to speculate on his future superiors’ private life – just that it was a nice thought, should it turn out to be true that they had gotten involved...
Having greeted personally all his future colleagues, at once noting the openly displayed superiority in rank Singer had relished in, Fred entered the office that was to be his for the next months. Mac was occupying herself with the telephone on the desk.
“I programmed Harm’s place on speed dial four and my own on five – just in case you might like to feel you had friends. By the way, where do you stay?”
“Claire’s aunt has a two-apartment house in Rosslyn. She stays up and Claire and I have the rest of the house to ourselves, ma’am.”
“Glad to hear that you’re well settled. And Rosslyn’s a nice neighborhood. Bud and Harriet used to stay there before...” Mac let her voice trail off, not knowing how much she wanted to tell her friend right now of Bud’s dreadful fate.
“Lt. Sims’s husband stepped on a mine, ma’am?” Fred asked quietly.
“Yeah. Trying to save a kid. Lost one leg and only recently managed to get a grip and get help, physically and emotionally. But he’s doing a great job with getting well, now that Harriet’s pregnant again,” Mac told him, knowing she could rely on Fred’s gentlemanlike discretion. “Harriet and Bud are real friends. Their son AJ is Harm’s and my godson. They were to have a daughter, Sarah, but...” Fred saw Mac swallow hard. “She died being born early.”
“Quite a bit of a fate to carry,” was the only thing he said, his voice thoughtful and compassionate.
Mac tried to shake off her gloomy mood. “Try your speed dial and take possession of your phone, Fred,” she encouraged him. He smiled.
“Aye, ma’am.”
He pressed speed dial four and switched on the speaker for Mac to hear. On the fourth ring the receiver was picked up.
“Rabb,” came Harm’s voice from the other side of the line.
“Buongiorno, Comandante,” Fred said, smirking. “Come va?” [Good morning, Commander. How are you?]
Silence. Then a tentative “Fred?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s a pleasant surprise, Lieutenant!” Harm’s voice fully conveyed his flyboy-grin. “What’s the reason for this unexpected pleasure?”
“Work, sir,” Fred said, with a smile to Mac who bit her lip, giggling.
They could hear Harm raise his eyebrows. “Your gondola stolen again, Lieutenant? Do we need to return to Venice? Not that I’d mind that too much...”
‘I bet you wouldn’t, sailor,’ Mac thought, hiding her grin.
“No, sir, this time it’d suffice to go to your office.” Fred was beginning to enjoy the conversation.
“Ah... right. And where are you calling from?”
“My office, sir. That is, you know it as Cmdr. Imes’s.” Fred held the receiver off his ear to let out a snort. Mac had long lost her composure at imagining her flyboy’s expression.
“?!!??” Harm’s silence spoke volumes.
“Fred’s participating in the officers exchange program,” Mac said, laughing, having snatched the receiver from Fred’s hand.
“Wow, this is great! Pass him the receiver, Mac, please!”
Fred took it, grinning. The commander hadn’t changed a bit. “Yes, sir?”
“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry I won’t be able to see you until next week. I’m sure Mac told you that I’ve got a special op on my back. But be sure to go out with Mac and me to dinner next Monday, Lieutenant. And bring your fiancée if she’s in D.C. That’s an order!”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Fred replied, laughing, before they said goodbye and he put the receiver down. Just then, Tiner entered the office.
“Lieutenant Prem... Pur...”
“Prumetti,” Fred helped an embarrassed Tiner.
“Excuse me, sir, but the admiral wants to see you in the conference room. And you, too, ma’am,” he added, noticing that Mac was present.
“Thank you, P.O. Tiner,” Fred answered.
“Tiner will do, sir,” the yeoman grinned before exiting the office.
“We’d better go at once,” Mac said. “JAG HQ, lesson one: Never keep the admiral waiting.”
“I see, ma’am.” The shared a laugh as they crossed the bullpen.
Upon entering the conference room, they found the whole JAG staff already assembled. AJ motioned Mac and Fred to sit down and signaled to Harriet who rose and held up a letter.
“I don’t know if any of you remember what this is but I had told you when it arrived two months ago. And I had told you not to make any plans for Sunday, May 10th. Anyway, this is the confirmation that I was just faxed from Washington Symphony’s box office. Sunday morning’s the big governmental charity matinee, broadcast live by ZBS, by the way. I don’t know anything specific about the program, just that it’s all classical, dress whites required, actually, and that the Secnav has all but made it an order for the Navy’s high representatives to attend.”
“And I do make it an order for all of you to go,” AJ cut in. “We’ve a reputation to lose that the JAG Corps always turns up one big family.”
Everybody was snickering or at least grinning at his remark. Harriet continued: “So I got tickets for all of us for Sunday 1100 at the Kennedy Center. I suggest we meet at the main entrance at 1030. Is there anybody who can’t come except Cmdr. Rabb?”
“Sir, I’m leaving for Pensacola tomorrow,” Singer addressed AJ, unsure if to be glad to show her enthusiasm for a case or angry to miss a major social event and many possibilities to get to know useful people. “The Portman case, sir. It’ll take me at least one week.”
“Too bad, Lieutenant.” AJ’s voice was perfectly neutral. Except to those who knew the friend beneath the SEAL. “Lt. Prumetti,” he then turned to Fred. “Would you and your fiancée care to join us for the concert as we have two tickets left?”
“We’d be glad to, sir.”
“Then that’s settled. That is all.” AJ rose and everyone jumped to their feet and came to attention. “See you all on Sunday at 1030 in front of the Kennedy Center. Dismissed.”
On hearing their “Aye, aye, sir!” AJ left the conference room and headed for his office.
Sun, May 10th
1137 ZULU
Harm’s apartment
North of Union Station
Washington, D.C.
“How can I even think about going out in public with my face messed up like this?” Mac shouted in frustration, angrily thrusting her powder-puff at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The colors on her jaw were oscillating between a deep purple red and a light greenish yellow, passing every color imaginable in between from her chin up to her ear. She had decided to get up early to somehow find a way to hide the remnants of her jaw surgery, but she was slowly running out of clues how to do it. At least the swelling had passed and she could normally open her mouth again. But those damn colors would always shine through her make-up.
Harm, yawning and stretching, entered the bathroom and, with a smile, encircled her in his arms, looking into the mirror with his chin on her shoulder. “Did you have colorful dreams, jarhead?” he asked, chuckling.
“Good morning to you, too, Commander,” she snapped, unable to keep her mouth from twitching despite the situation.
Harm turned her around in his arms and scrutinized the effusion of blood the treatment had caused. Compassion shone in his eyes as he gently traced the stained skin with his fingertips.
“My poor favorite Marine,” he whispered gently and then said matter-of-factly: “I’ve got one hour until I have to go and meet with Webb at the... at our meeting point. Want me to try and take care of it? You know, I’m very good at fixing scratches in ‘Sarah’s’ yellow varnish.”
Mac gently slapped him on his bare chest, not oblivious to how good the muscles felt under her fingers. “Right. And that makes you an expert in fixing your other Sarah’s varnish as well?”
He grinned. “Maybe...”
She couldn’t resist to returning his smile. Sighing, she handed him her make-up case. “I’m out of solutions anyway. See what you can do, mechanic.”
Chuckling, he searched through the bag’s contents, then found her fluid-make-up jar. Working carefully, he applied it to her cheek, then softly blew on it until it had dried. Mac closed her eyes and enjoyed his tender touches as he covered the spot with compact powder and then repeated the whole procedure over two times. Finally he moved away and gave his artwork an inspecting survey. “Take a look at yourself, Colonel,” he said.
Mac turned to the mirror. “Wow. Great job in varnishing, I have to admit, flyboy,” she said lovingly, glancing up at him in the mirror. Then she turned and put her arms around his neck. Harm pulled her tight to his body, the fine linen material of her white nightgown the only physical barrier between them. In fact, he was able to feel every curve of her beautifully shaped body through it. ‘Don’t get carried away, Hammer,’ he kept telling himself as he felt his stomach tighten.
“What’d I do without you?” Mac whispered with a huge smile in her beautiful eyes.
“Don’t think of it. You don’t have to do without me. You won’t get rid of me, Marine,” he whispered back, letting a slow, tender kiss follow his words, a kiss that threatened to make her knees fail their service. She ordered herself to come to her senses and drew back slightly, concern showing on her now sober face.
“I know you can’t tell me, but, Harm, please, whatever it is you’re up to today, do take care of yourself, will you? I won’t have a quiet moment anyway, but your word of honor that you’ll consider the safer option if there is one, will make me feel a little more comfortable until you’re back.”
Harm earnestly looked into her eyes as he put his right hand on his heart. “I give you my word of honor as an officer and my promise as the man who loves you more than anything else in this world, Sarah, that you won’t have the slightest reason to be worried for my safety today. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said, sniffling. Then she let out a slight chuckle. “And now let’s please lighten the mood or you’ll have to do my make-up all over again if I can’t hold back those tears.”
Laughing softly, he pecked her on the tip of her nose and vanished into the shower.
An hour later she was still in her bathrobe, having finished her hair and make-up that gave him a glimpse of how beautiful she would look at the charity concert.
“I’d rather come with you all, Mac,” Harm said ruefully as she accompanied him to the door.
“I know, but it can’t be helped, can it? Wait, you going just like that?” She looked him over in his simple civvies, jeans, T-shirt, sweater, Nikes and base-cap. No sidearm, no file, nothing.
“Yeah. Webb’s got all that I need. I brought my things over yesterday to where I meet him. Now get dressed and enjoy yourself, Marine.”
“I would if you were with me. But things being as they are, I’ll plaster a fake smile to my face and get things over with,” she replied, making a mock face.
“See you in a few hours then. Wish me luck, Mac,” Harm whispered, his face sober and uneasiness all of a sudden shining in his eyes.
Mac felt her worries growing but resolved not to make him feel even worse for her sake. “Good luck, my sailor,” she whispered back, kissing him tenderly, and with a smile closed the door at his back. Only then she let out a sob that had been lingering in her throat all the time.
Sun, May 10th
1530 ZULU
Kennedy Center
Washington, D.C.
Mac had never thought her make-up would survive this trip. She had been sweating like hell on the road, stuck in traffic and her air-condition malfunctioning once again. But whatever charm Harm had applied in his treatment held. Holding her small dark blue silk jacket, that now hung loose above her shoulders, and slightly lifting up the long skirt of the matching off-the-shoulder dress, she ran to join her friends as gracefully as her high heels would permit.
Harriet was distributing the tickets. Mac noted with silent joy that her belly just began to show under her pink dress.
“Good morning, Colonel,” AJ greeted her, echoed by the others. Then Mac turned and saw a slender young woman stepping up to her, beaming radiantly.
“Mac, it’s so good to see you!”
“Claire!” Mac hugged her younger friend. “Talking to you on the phone’s been great, but seeing you in person is just... terrific!”
“Well, I hope we’ll get more of that now that Fred an I are so close by.”
“Count on it! My God, Lieutenant!” Mac exclaimed as Fred stepped up to greet her. She had never seen him in his dress whites yet. Those Italians sure had style, she thought. Fred’s white jacket had the front buttons hidden, emphasizing even more a bright royal blue sash that went from his right shoulder to his left hip where a shining saber was attached to his side. ‘Too bad that I see no gold wings, then he’d be perfect.’ She smiled at the thought. “Fred, you look like prince charming.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” The young lieutenant couldn’t help blushing.
“Ready to go in, all of you?” Harriet asked. “Bud’s sending his love to all of you but he wants to keep training. So he’ll be watching the concert on TV while working out.”
“Tell him we miss him, Harriet,” Mac said.
“Let’s go in then,” AJ said and they set off for their seats.
To be continued...
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