| Subject: 'Dissonance' - Conclusion |
Author:
Daenar
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Date Posted: 15:31:30 07/24/02 Wed
In reply to:
Daenar
's message, "'Dissonance' - Part Ten" on 15:28:47 07/24/02 Wed
'Dissonance' - Conclusion
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Part One
Mon, June 22nd
0325 ZULU
Carnegie Hall
New York City, N.Y.
Harm felt stunned, dazed, swept away... standing in the middle of a bright spotlight, he bowed to an enthusiastic audience that he couldn’t see because, from the brightly-lit stage, the dark auditorium seemed just one enormous blackness devoid of any distinguishable forms. But he could hear people cheer and wildly clap their hands. All for him, in this one short moment. He savored it, letting a relieved, full-blown flyboy-grin grace his features, and then quickly stepped aside, gesturing to the musicians who, more than he, deserved the ovations for having performed one singular, perfect show.
Lt. Cmdr. Laird had come to wish him luck before the concert, once again telling him about the many emails he had continuously been receiving from his students who seemed to very much like Harm’s way of working with them. “You’ll do just fine, sir,” he had told him with a reassuring smile, slightly patting the back of a very pale and incredibly nervous Harm.
What hadn’t really helped Harm’s stage fright, had been Laird’s news that the Hall was completely sold out, as the city’s administration had turned the college concert into a major social event, combined with fundraisings for several charitable institutions. Harm had been sure his knees would buckle when he stepped onto that stage. And seeing that Fred’s face matched the color of his dress whites hadn’t helped either.
But eventually he’d realized that Fred, after all, was a professional musician. The moment the backstage door had been opened for the two of them to step on stage, the lieutenant had straightened his shoulders, taken a deep breath, put on a dashing smile and seemingly easily gone out into the lion’s den. Harm had simply followed his example.
While Fred had been doing the solo pieces, Harm had reveled in the secure feeling of sitting in the middle of a group, being a part of it. But as soon as he’d had to stand up and be the conductor, he’d thought he’d lose it. He’d instantly sought out Mac’s reassuring glance – easy task, now that she was the only one in a blue uniform – and she’d helped him through the evening as she’d said she would.
Mac had had the time of her life playing on that stage. Now that she finally didn’t have to watch out for her cover anymore, she was as excited as any of the students. From her seat in the back that was raised slightly above the other rows, she had been able to face the auditorium from a slightly different angle and subsequently hadn’t been blinded by the spotlights. She’d seen them all, sitting in the fourth row: Bud, Harriet, Claire, the admiral, Tiner, Sturgis and Bobbi, Webb, even Carolyn had flown in from Great Lakes. And next to her, to her utmost astonishment, she had detected Gunny Galindez who probably was on home leave right now. Then came Harm’s parents, Sergei and... no, that couldn’t be possible: Chloe with her father and grandmother! The admiral must have pulled some strings to have them all come. Mac hadn’t seen Singer, though. Well, who cared?
But most of the time Mac kept her eyes on Harm. Her fiancé. The father of her child. He had certainly acquired remarkable conducting skills by now and he succeeded to be enough of a professional to lead his musicians swiftly and never let them off the hook unless he wanted to. Often enough, though, Harm deliberately stepped aside to let his soloists lead the way just as they needed it for their parts. ‘A gentleman even on stage,’ Mac thought happily. He looked breathtaking in his dress whites, as always. And, with the help of his well-dosed smile, he succeeded in motivating the musicians ever more, up to the grand finale: Fred playing ‘Stardust’. Mac leaned back in her seat, her left hand on her drum, subconsciously placing her right hand on her belly. She closed her eyes and finally allowed herself to be happy. Absolutely, unlimitedly, overwhelmingly happy.
Just then, Harm motioned for Fred to step into the spotlight to bow. The young lieutenant’s cheeks were flushed and his smile matched Harm’s. ‘They could pass for brothers,’ Mac stated to herself. As Fred had joined Harm a little further to the side, it was Jeannine’s turn to step forward. Mac could tell she was in her element. Beaming radiantly and firmly holding her flute in her right hand, Jeannine exercised an elegant courtesy and graced the whole audience with a carefully aimed look around. ‘Another professional,’ Mac thought, amused. She saw Chloe clapping wildly. It was quite natural that the very young and fragile-looking petite blonde must have especially impressed her with her gorgeous playing.
Then Harm detected a little movement in the open doorway that led backstage. Lt. Cmdr. Peter Laird was enthusiastically applauding to his own band and to him, Harm, who had taken the spot he, Laird, should have been in tonight. Out of the impulse of a moment, Harm took three quick strides to join him and gently pulled him on stage before Laird realized what was happening to him.
There he stood in the spotlight, embarrassedly bowing to a public that knew very well who he was – the magazines had been full of the event, telling the story why Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. had had to fill in once again for a concert. Laird bit his lip to control his commotion as, in the end, he got to have his dream come true – being on stage at Carnegie Hall – the dream he’d had to let go of when Wells had told him that Harm would take his place. Smiling, Harm motioned for Fred and Jeannine to get their instruments and retrieved his conductor’s baton to put it into an overwhelmed Laird’s hand. Then Harm sat down next to Jeannine, taking his guitar, and watched, more than a little touched, as Laird bit his lip once more to prevent it from quivering.
The public settled down again and Laird, finally allowing himself to smile ever more, raised his baton and cued the band into the ‘Da Capo’ of everyone’s favorite piece: ‘Stardust’.
‘I am damn proud of you, squid!’ Mac quickly wiped away a tear of commotion from the corner of her eye and, as Harm casually turned his head in her direction, mouthed: ‘I love you!’ It didn’t matter anymore if anyone noticed.
Down in the fourth row, AJ Chegwidden tried in vain to wipe his proud grin off his face. Although he suspected that his officers had gotten themselves into serious trouble more than once during this investigation, they seemed to have wrapped it up neatly, ready to be unpacked in court. And they had managed to do it quietly. Thinking of a rather particular letter that had arrived the other day from the Department of Defense, accompanied by a call from Webb, AJ appreciated even more that word of the affair hadn’t leaked out.
AJ had never let drop a single word in front of Nelson that he expected problems with chain-of-command regs regarding his senior team. In dealing with the Secnav, Webb had expressed AJ’s wish of keeping Harm and Mac without so much as informing him, but for once in his life, AJ absolutely agreed with the unusual measures everyone’s favorite spook had taken. Now that Harm and Mac had indeed succeeded in fulfilling their half of this extraordinary treaty by keeping Dwayne Myers out of the headlines, AJ dared to hope that he’d never have to face the decision that he’d been dreading for so many years now: keeping his most successful team or supporting his friends’ personal happiness.
He had been watching his protégés intently during the whole evening. Not a single glance, smile or wink that they’d exchanged had escaped his notice. Ever since Venice when he’d first had his suspicions, AJ had tried to make out signs that they had indeed gotten closer. But Rabb and Mackenzie were professionals. Their behavior in the office had been immaculate. And even outside the office he had waited in vain to stumble across any little display of personal involvement. But tonight all seemed different. With Mac’s cover broken, there was no need whatsoever for them to conceal their relationship now, knowing that they were protected by an agreement with the Secnav himself. AJ’s affectionate heart had warmed at the tenderness that was now displaying openly between his ‘kids’ – finally! ‘Well, JAG’s a family,’ he happily stated to himself. ‘I daresay it’s time for a couple of grandchildren who don’t bear the name of Roberts!’
Epilogue
Sat, August 1st
1635 ZULU
Anglican Church, Campo San Vio
Dorsoduro, Venice
Italy
As the last verse of the hymn was sung, Cadet Jeannine Stiller felt her stomach tighten. ‘This is it,’ she thought happily, ‘Now we’ll get the true happy end to this story!’ When Mac had called her a few weeks ago and asked her to be her Maid of Honor, she had been unable to trust her ears. With a trembling voice she had accepted the honor, and her composure had been completely lost as Mac had gone on, asking her if she’d agree to lend her name to their unborn child, should it turn out to be a girl. Jeannine knew that this didn’t mean that she were to become a godparent – this task fell upon the Lieutenants Roberts. But hearing Mac explain their choice of name, had made her cry with commotion: “If we’re to have a girl, we would like to name her Patricia, after Harm’s mother, and Jeannine, after the friend who saved both our lives during the assignment that we were in when the child was conceived. If you consent to it, Janni.” She had gladly consented.
Glancing at the girl standing next to her, she found her smiling back, quickly taking her hand and squeezing it in mutual happiness. Chloe Madison was just as excited as she was. A third hand was placed on top of theirs now: Harriet Sims-Roberts, Matron of Honor, tried to put into her squeeze all remainders of calm she might still possess. With a reassuring smile at the pale but beaming girls, she especially gave Jeannine the necessary feeling of confidence that she was up to the task that she was there to perform.
A happy congregation had gathered in the small church on this sunny Venetian afternoon: the whole extended JAG family including Francesca, the Burnetts along with Grandma Sarah Rabb, Clayton Webb, Harm and Mac’s friend Rear Admiral Salvatore Della Rosa, CO of the Venice Port Authority, their still closer friend from the Venice Police Department, Commissario Amedeo De Carlo, both accompanied by their wives. Captain Wells had flown in from New York, together with Lt. Cmdr. Peter Laird and his fiancée, and they had even brought the entire college band on an extended school trip to perform during the service. But the most beautiful surprise to Mac had been that AJ and Webb had managed to arrange a special leave for Colonel Matthew O’Hara who had led his niece down the aisle.
At a sign from the priest, Jeannine now stepped closer to the altar. From the other side of the aisle, Sergei Zhukov, for this special occasion allowed to once again put on his Russian uniform, did the same. All looked over to the two figures in white standing in the center of attention, and they silently agreed that they’d rarely seen anything so touching.
Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., just a little pale but smiling from the bottom of his heart, took both hands of his beautiful bride in his and listened as the priest spoke the words that were to change his life forever:
“Do you, Harmon David, take Sarah Catherine to be your lawful wedded wife? Do you promise to love, honor and protect her, in good as in bad times, in wealthy as in poor days, in health as in sickness, till death do you part?”
Seeing nothing else than Mac’s loving glance, Harm took a deep breath and, with all the love and honesty that he possibly managed to put into his voice, softly but clearly answered: “I do.”
In the brief moment of silence that followed his vow, Harm took in the sight of his wife-to-be: Mac was in a simple long white dress without so much as a hint of any decorative elements besides the thin strips of lace that went around the hem of each short sleeve, and she had his mother’s bridal veil attached to her beautifully pinned up hair at the back of her head. Her cheeks were flushed a little more than usual and an incredible amount of love was radiating from her huge dark eyes. ‘Thank you, God, for letting me find such a treasure,’ Harm thought, overwhelmed.
Feeling all the warmth and tenderness that his smile conveyed to her, Mac, tears brimming in her eyes, looked at the tall man that stood in front of her in his dress whites, his gold wings in the right place as always. ‘This is all you ever dreamed of, Sarah,’ she silently told herself, her heart beating loud, ‘Now prove to yourself and to God that you deserve it.’ As the priest addressed her, she swallowed and subconsciously held her breath.
“And do you, Sarah Catherine, take Harmon David to be your lawful wedded husband? Do you promise to love, honor and support him, in good as in bad times, in wealthy as in poor days, in health as in sickness, till death do you part?”
Her glance never leaving his, Mac answered in a low but clear voice that rang with joy: “I do.”
The priest looked at Sergei who stepped up to him, holding a little cushion with the wedding bands. The handsome young Russian cast yet another shy glance at his petite blonde female counterpart and, not for the first time, received a quick blushing smile in return.
“Take each other’s rings as a visible sign of the bond between the two of you,” the priest said.
Harm took the smaller ring and, sliding it onto Mac’s left hand, declared solemnly: “With this ring, I thee wed, with this heart, I thee worship.” Mac, a moment later, repeated those exact words as she returned the gesture.
The priest raised his hands and held them over the heads of the couple for the final blessings. “Through the power given to me by the Lord our Father and through the authority entrusted to me by the Republic of Italy, I declare you husband and wife. May man never meddle with what was joined by God.”
Sergei now turned to the congregation and with a loud and clear voice announced: “Ladies and gentlemen: Mr. and Mrs. Harmon Rabb, Jr.!” Then, following a very Rabb-ish impulse of the moment, he threw his cover high into the air with a Russian cheer that everyone – in their own languages – joined in.
Upon a conspiratorial wink from the priest, Harm lifted the veil from Mac’s face and brought his lips to hers in an exact replica of the chaste kiss they had first shared under the Bridge of Sighs, back in February. And once again, the kiss was to be the promise for so much more that was yet to follow in the many years to come.
THE END
A.N.: Many, many thanks to Kate for beta-reading!
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