Disclaimer:The characters are property of DPB and Paramount. I’m just playing with them!
Spoilers: Up to and including “Ready or Not”.
Author Notes: Many thanks to CatMom for her wonderful shippershrink knowledge and to Pretz for excellent beta work! Any errors are mine!
Part 1: Burying the Hatchet
1340 local (Saturday)
Roberts’ Housewarming Party
“Is that a ruling or an opinion?”
”Come on, Harm. Can we just bury the hatchet for one day?”
”I'd love to, but I'd have to pull it out of my client's head where you left it.”
“We're not having this discussion.”
“Well, at least we agree on one thing,” Harm said sarcastically, as he strode out of the room, wanting to be anywhere she wasn’t at the moment.
Mac felt like she’d been punched. Harm’s comments knocked the air right out of her. Things between them had been great lately—then this. She had hoped that the housewarming party Bud and Harriet were having would be a stepping stone to another level in their relationship. But this stone became the ledge he pushed her off. He walked out of the room, smugly; seemingly happy he got the last word in. It was so unlike him, he was becoming someone she didn’t know anymore.
Setting her glass down on the dining room table, Mac left the room, seeking refuge in the kitchen. She began straightening things up—anything to keep her mind off what had just occurred between her and Harm.
Harriet followed Mac into the kitchen, watching her friend throw her energy into the dishes.
“Ma’am . . . . Mac . . . . Is there anything I can do? You seem a little, um, upset.”
Tossing the towel down on the counter, Mac turned to face Harriet, the remains of a few tears glistening on her cheek.
“Upset?” she gasped, barely able to get the word from her mouth. “I did nothing to warrant Harm’s callous comments. I was appointed judge—it’s my job; he thinks this is personal.” Mac was gesturing wildly, her face flushed with emotion. Harriet walked over and took her hand, leading Mac to the chairs at the kitchen table.
“What’s been going on between the two of you lately?” Harriet asked, not sure if she was ready to hear what Mac had to say. She didn’t want her fears confirmed. Harriet, being quite perceptive, had noticed the iciness in her friends’ relationship. Relationship—it was more like a lack there of. History was beginning to repeat itself. The tension between Harm and Mac was evident, just like it was when he returned from flying, and similarly after Mac returned from her TAD assignment to the Guadalcanal. Now, Mac’s temporary appointment to the judiciary was wrecking havoc as well as Harm’s inability to deal with it.
“I’m not sure if I want to talk about this Harriet, not here at your house-warming party.”
“You might feel better once you get it all out in the open.”
Mac took a deep breath, wondering truly if talking about it was going to make her feel better. This friendship/relationship was tying her up in knots. They had been moving towards a change for the better—their closeness was becoming the root of everything yet to come. Lunch together, dinner—even if it was just discussing cases—became relaxing, enjoyable moments. Although they weren’t calling it dating, sometimes it felt like it, deep in her heart; or maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part. But all that changed in one fell swoop as the Admiral gave her the assignment of presiding over a case that Harm was defending.
Looking at the concern on Harriet’s face, Mac decided that this wasn’t the time or the place to discuss the precariousness of whatever was going on with her and Harm.
“Harriet, I really can’t do this now—not here. Please understand.”
“I do understand, Mac,” Harriet said as she gently squeezed Mac’s hand. “Just give it time; things will get back to normal.”
“Normal. That’s hardly the word I’d use to describe this . . . .this . . .THING that’s going on between Harm and me,” Mac said, the irritation apparent in her voice.
“Have you tried to talk to him?”
“No!” she replied vehemently, “And, I’m not so sure that I want to anymore.” Mac said, pausing to regain her composure. “I think it’s time I went home, Harriet,” she said, rising from the table.
Harriet laid her hand gently on Mac’s arm, “Please don’t go. The party is just getting started.”
“Thanks for inviting me, but I just want to be alone right now.”
Harriet followed Mac as she left the kitchen to retrieve her purse and jacket from the foyer closet. Hugging her, Mac whispered, “I’m sorry” and quickly left, unseen by Harm.
15 minutes earlier
Roberts’ Den
Harm rarely swore—it was something he just didn’t do. Just another one of those self-inflicted rules he abided by. Today he was making an exception. He entered the den muttering a few selected four-letter words like a mad-man. Bud and Sturgis ended their conversation abruptly and regarded their friend carefully. Harm’s eyes were glowing like hot coals. Bud excused himself and immediately left the den, knowing that Sturgis was the only man capable of defusing this bomb.
“You look like hell, Harm. What’s up?” Sturgis queried.
“Nothing that a transfer won’t cure,” he mumbled distractedly. Realizing what he had just said, Harm looked up to see a confused Sturgis. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“It must be something to get you this irritated.”
Harm sighed, drank the remaining beer from his glass, and set it down on the end table with a thud.
“You want to know what it is. I’ll tell you. Mac is letting this judgeship go to her head. It’s a power trip for her,” Harm said bitterly.
“You don’t honestly believe that, do you?”
“Don’t you?” Harm was pacing the room in an attempt to cool down.
“No. This is new for her as well as the rest of the JAG team. We’re all adjusting to the temporary change.”
“Yeah, well you’re the prosecution. She’s on your side.”
“Harm, she’s the judge; she’s on no one’s side.”
“Yeah, right. Tell her that.”
“Mac is not the power-trip type. You should know that better than anyone.”
“I thought I did . . . . . but not anymore.” Harm paused, gathering his thoughts, not entirely sure he wanted to continue this conversation.
“If you want to talk about it . . . .” Sturgis offered, tentatively.
Harm laughed, “Talk? Yeah, that’s something I want to do right now. Actually, I would like to forget that it ever happened. Know what? I can’t,” he said, throwing his hands in the air dramatically.
“Harm, you and Mac have been friends for a long time. What makes this different than all the other times the both of you have disagreed?”
“We can’t seem to get past this one.”
“You mean you can’t get past it. I don’t even think you know why you’re angry. Actually, frustrated would be a more accurate description of you at the moment.”
Harm stood there, wondering where Sturgis was taking this conversation he didn’t want to have. Deciding he’d had enough, he grabbed his empty glass and headed from the den, saying, “I’m finished discussing this with you.”
Sturgis opened his mouth to add something, but Harm cut him off, “What goes on between Mac and me is no one’s business, including yours,” he continued, as he walked through the foyer and into the kitchen, placing his glass on the counter. He then sought out Bud and Harriet to say his good-byes, finding them in the dining room with the Admiral and Meredith. He hardly noticed Mac wasn’t there anymore.
“I’m leaving now, Bud. Thanks for a wonderful party, Harriet,” Harm said as he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
“Stay, at least for a little while,” Harriet said knowing Harm, just like Mac, would leave despite her efforts to dissuade him otherwise.
He didn’t like to make up excuses, but it was better than rehashing everything that transpired with Mac all over again. Not sure of what to say, Harm opted for a quick good-bye, see-you-on-Monday kind of statement and swiftly left the house. He got into his SUV and slammed the door, sitting there for a brief moment, reliving the bitter words he spewed at Mac. He pounded the steering wheel, “Shit.” Harm was too frustrated to think anymore. He turned the key in the ignition and sped off in the direction of his apartment, radio blaring to drown out his thoughts.
Sturgis watched his friend leave, just shaking his head wondering where this was all going. He walked into the dining room where the rest of the guests were gathered.
“Care to fill us in on the situation, Commander?” AJ calmly asked.
“What do you mean, sir?” Sturgis said, feigning ignorance. All eyes were on him, hoping to get some explanation for the swift departure of Harm. Sturgis took a drink from the glass he held, looking thoughtfully toward the door and then back at the gathered friends, waiting with bated breath for his response. He sighed and said, “Nothing to tell. He just needed to leave.”
Part 2: Tea and Sympathy
Mac’s Apartment
1435 local time
The entire drive home Mac felt guilty for leaving the party just because Harm was being an ass. However as much as she wanted to stay for Bud and Harriet’s sake, she couldn’t bear another run-in with him. She didn’t want the chasm in her friendship with Harm and all the baggage it brought to ruin their friends’ party. Bud and Harriet deserved some happiness after all that has happened this year.
Happiness was fleeting in her life. As quickly as she found it, there was always something there to shoo it away. It seemed that it almost always involved Harm, in some respect. She should have known the smooth waters they encountered earlier in the year were just a precursor to an inevitable storm that fed on their insecurities; building in strength until it consumed them. They had always weathered these moments before. At least they eventually did. The difference this time was the umbrella of trust and faith they took refuge under was tattered and torn, offering very little in the way of a safe harbor.
Entering her apartment, Mac felt lost. It was like a part of her was missing, but she couldn’t place what it was. She took off her jacket and tossed it on the chair along with her purse, and set off toward the kitchen to make tea. Pulling the canister from its resting place in the cabinet, Mac selected a tea bag from inside. She topped off the kettle with water, placed it on the burner and quickly cranked the heat. She needed something to drive the chill from her desperately and real boiling water was the only way to make tea; microwaved water was, well, just microwaved water.
While the kettle was simmering, Mac retrieved her files from her briefcase and laid them out on the dining room table; consuming herself in work might be just the distraction needed right now. Picking up the file on the War Games trial, she thumbed through the documents, looking for the notes she collected. She skimmed over them, remembering the obvious tension and the sarcasm from Harm.
The comments she had written jarred her memory, but not in a good way. Mac remembered how Harm had just voiced his first objection of the trial with just enough of a hint of arrogance to make her bristle. If she didn’t know before, she most certainly knew now she was in for a ride. She had listened intently as Sturgis argued his rationale. After carefully absorbing Sturgis’ remarks, she clearly and calmly sided with reason and said “Overruled”. An indignant Harm stood immediately and said, “You’ve got to be kidding”. He belatedly added, “Your Honor” sarcastically, only after she gave him a distinct non-verbal “get-it-together-Rabb” look.
Sturgis completed his examination of the witness with a “Nothing further, your Honor”. Mac addressed Harm, asking if the defense wished to cross-examine the witness. Harm stood rigidly, his voice dripping with insolence, said “Not at this time, your Honor. I do reserve my right to question the witness at a later time.” The whole trial was beginning to take the shape of a nightmare.
The kettle was now hissing and whistling, calling for attention. It was enough to break Mac’s trance and snap her back to the present. She set the file back on the table amongst the others and padded off to the kitchen to tend to more pressing matters.
Mac quickly poured the boiling water over the chamomile tea bag to steep and returned to the files in the dining room. Deciding that she wasn’t in the mood to work anymore, she gathered all the folders and placed them back in the briefcase before heading to the bookshelf for another means of diversion.
Harm’s apartment
1455 local time
Harm’s drive home was likewise filled with the regret of deserting his friends’ housewarming party. He tried hard to forget the little scene in the dining room but it kept replaying in his head like a broken record, and the radio was doing nothing to help him silence these thoughts so he turned it off.
Maybe making an issue of it at Bud and Harriet’s wasn’t the way to handle things, he thought. “But, I had to get it off my chest,” Harm said aloud, not realizing he was talking to himself. “She needs to know where I stand; since she’s obviously not listening to what I’m saying in the courtroom—not that it had any impact today, either. Damn stubborn Jarhead. Wonder how she’ll feel when it’s my turn behind the bench; maybe it’ll become crystal clear to her then.”
Pulling up in front of his apartment, he turned the car off and sat there for a moment wondering what to do with the rest of his day, now that his schedule was clear. Any other time he’d call Mac and they’d find something to do together. “No point in doing that,” he thought, “she’s probably plotting the demise of my case right now. Besides, I’d rather be alone anyway. No one to judge me, no one to tell me I’m handling things poorly. There is only one thing I can do that doesn’t require human interaction—go running.”
He got out of his SUV and quickly entered the building. Once in his apartment, he checked the machine for messages, silently hoping that there might be one from Mac, for whatever reason. “No new messages.” The electronic voice told him what he already knew.
Changing his clothes, he grabbed his keys and left for the park to pour his frustrations into something physical.
Part 3: Close Encounters of the AJ Kind
Admiral’s Office
0755 local (three weeks later, Thursday)
The trial was finished in little over two weeks, but the acrimony between the partners wore on like the cold, damp weather that held the city captive for most of autumn. AJ had hoped once the trial was over, Harm and Mac would get back to some semblance of a friendship, like it used to be. “Not this time”, AJ sighed quietly.
Thankfully for the JAG staff, Harm and Mac’s next assignment did not involve either one sitting on the bench. AJ didn’t have to put much thought into that one. What he believed would be an excellent opportunity for Mac to serve as judge, turned into an old-fashioned out-for-blood Redskins-Cowboys game, playoff spot on the line. He thought Harm would have behaved better under the circumstances. Who was he trying to kid, ever since he “severed” him as defense council for PO Moritz, Harm took everything personally.
Now, AJ was second-guessing the recent assignment he had given them. It was a simple case involving a Petty Officer charged with an Article 87. PO Douglas was scheduled to depart on the Iwo Jima, but having spent the previous night trying to “convince” his girlfriend to marry him, he overslept, missing the ship’s movement. It was a simple enough assignment. Harm was trial counsel, Mac defense. They could have settled. In fact, Mac said her client was open to any and all possibilities. Harm, on the other hand, had a point to prove and refused to discuss any settlement, bringing their disagreement into the court-room—Judge Sebring’s court-room.
AJ now sat in the solitude of his office with letter in hand from Sebring, outlining “conduct unbecoming” and “contempt” charges against both of them. He knew it would come to this, but how to handle it delicately was another story. The letter was preceded by a phone call from the judge yesterday, alerting him to the situation and the forthcoming formal letter. AJ had worked his magic and managed to persuade Sebring to allow him to handle the matter personally rather than make a public affair out of the whole issue. Sebring withdrew the charges, agreeing with AJ’s recommendation that the two receive professional counseling on keeping their personal differences outside the court-room.
Tossing the paper on the desk, AJ stood up and paced the office. He had warned them to keep things down to a dull roar, but yet again, their emotions took control and they were at each others throats in the court-room during pre-trial motions—PRE-TRIAL motions, nonetheless! AJ was exasperated and embarrassed. But, having had some time to mull the situation over, he was more calm and rational at this point. These were two of his finest officers, his best lawyers, yet they were “family” to him as well. So he chose to deal with them as family, rather than discipline them as officers.
Tiner had announced Rabb and Mackenzie 10 minutes ago, however, AJ wanted a few extra minutes to gather his thoughts and put them in a rational state of mind—a state that took him 14 hours to get to. Damn them for bringing this into the office, he thought. He wished they’d get their act together and resolve this anywhere but here. Hell, I’d let them have the office if I knew that would help, he thought briefly before dismissing it entirely from his mind.
AJ recalled his conversation with Meredith after the little incident at Bud and Harriet’s. He had known there was unmistakable electricity between the two for some time now, although it took him a while to see it. Meredith, on the other hand, noticed it almost immediately. She said that all of the passion they're displaying was coming from a non-work related source and as soon as they realize that they'll work it out. He jokingly said they were candidates for couple’s therapy. How was he to know that his perceptions were right on the mark?
A while back, he and Meredith had had dinner with another couple. The woman was an old college friend of hers, who just so happened to be a psychologist experienced in counseling couples. AJ smirked remembering the evening. He knew Meredith had had ulterior motives for it, she usually did. For as much as there was a quirkiness about her, she was quite intelligent and perceptive. And her friend, Maddie, who he had his “concerns” about, turned out to be a delightful, intuitive woman. He was quite thankful when Maddie said she didn’t like to discuss cases or analyze people outside the office.
He took her business card, just in case. He never thought he’d have to call her so soon—for Harm and Mac, nonetheless! He gave her very little information when he spoke to her, saying he was doing this for two friends. It was an intervention, of sorts. He was relieved when she understood the delicacy of the situation and left it at that. Now, it was up to him to get Harm and Mac to understand the need to do this.
Deciding he was composed, he asked Tiner to send them in. Mac entered the office first, followed by Harm, as Tiner swiftly closed the hatch. Tiner silently wished he could be a fly on the wall, but he knew that the less witnesses, the better. He gathered a handful of files from his desk and headed off in the safe direction of the copier.
Their expressionless faces hid the real story quite well. They snapped to attention upon entering the room. AJ gave his usual “as you were” and motioned for them to sit. He moved to his place behind the desk and seated himself comfortably. This may take a while, he thought, putting on his reading glasses and retrieving the letter from its place on the spotless desk.
Both officers were motionless as they watched AJ peruse the letter, most likely for his 20th time. Neither was sure where this would leave their careers, let alone their personal lives.
AJ drew a breath and, rather than read the now-dropped charges, said calmly, “I gather you know why I’ve called you both here.”
Harm attempted to speak, but with a wave of the Admiral’s hand was silenced without even another breath; his eyes fixed forward, not daring to meet AJ’s gaze.
In a calm, matter-of-fact voice, AJ continued, “First issue on the agenda, Lieutenant Commander Manetti and Commander Turner will be replacing you as trial counsel and defense counsel respectively. You will turn over your case files immediately upon conclusion of this meeting. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they responded in unison. That was the first they managed to accomplish together in nearly 3 weeks.
“Secondly, Judge Sebring has dropped the charges of conduct unbecoming and contempt in exchange for a resolution that I will address shortly.”
Harm and Mac jointly sighed, both inwardly grateful for the eleventh-hour leniency offered by Judge Sebring.
“Lastly”, AJ continued, “Since both of you have almost 60 days leave on the books, effective immediately, I am placing you both on 30 days leave.”
“Sir, if I may . . . . .” Mac asked tentatively, “why are we placed on leave if the charges have been dropped?”
“I’m getting to that, Colonel,” AJ said, the tone of his voice rising slightly in annoyance. He removed his glasses and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to quell an impending headache the aspirin he took earlier didn’t chase away. Despite the throbbing in his temples, AJ struggled to keep his cool, “Please allow me to finish what I have to say before commenting; is that understood?” Why in the hell are they so thick-skulled, he asked himself, repressing the urge to rip them apart.
“Yes, sir,” was the response, again in unison.
The Admiral rose from his seat and walked around the desk, choosing to sit on its corner casually. He resembled more of a father about to chastise his belligerent teenagers than that of an Admiral infuriated by his officers.
“I am recommending, and Judge Sebring concurs, that you attend counseling to deal with your personal issues,” AJ began, until Harm interrupted him with a muttered “Unbelievable” that the Admiral picked up instantly.
“Do you have something to add, Commander?” the irritation in AJ’s voice apparent as he stood up in front of Harm.
“No, Sir,” Harm replied. Damn, he can probably hear what goes on at the guard shack too, he thought as he avoided looking anywhere but straight ahead.
“Good.” AJ hated reproaching them, but it was a necessary evil. He continued, “The counseling is for both of you—together.”
Both had confused looks on their face, but neither spoke nor glanced at the other; if either of them had anything to say, it was certainly lost in the deafening silence of the office.
“Look. Harm, Mac, you know I can’t force you to do this.”
Harm was fidgeting a little, trying very hard not to comment. His biggest problem besides the lack of a filter between the brain and the mouth, was understanding the rules of engagement where his mouth was concerned. Harm began, yet again, to question the Admiral’s motives, “But, Sir . . . surely there must be another alternative.”
“ALTERNATIVE? You want an alternative?” AJ bellowed. His face was red-hot angry, neck veins bulging. The thread that held his patience together had just snapped.
“I’ll give you an alternative. How about writing wills or reviewing junior enlisted lease problems for the rest of your career? Better yet, let’s take a look at the conduct unbecoming and contempt charges!” AJ’s voice was echoing off the walls of the office.
Mac watched as Harm cringed, filing the incident under ‘How to avoid getting the Admiral pissed off’. She sat there still and quiet during AJ’s tirade, thanking God for the ability to know when and how to keep her mouth shut.
Regrouping, AJ straightened his uniform and walked back around the desk. Maybe 30 days isn’t enough for me, he thought, rubbing the back of his neck. He made a mental note to take tomorrow off. “Dammit, I think I’ve earned it after today,” he mumbled out of Harm and Mac’s earshot.
AJ turned to face them, the color in his face returning to normal, although irritation was still apparent in his voice, “As I was saying, I believe you two might benefit from some professional help. There has been an unmistakable hostility between you two the past few weeks. If it were the War Games trial alone, I’d dismiss it. But it seems to be a culmination of many factors that I’d rather not pursue personally.”
“Sir?” Mac spoke tentatively, not wanting to push any more buttons. AJ nodded for her to continue. “So you are suggesting that we attend counseling?” quite sure she knew the answer to the question.
“Yes, Mac, I am. I think it is the only way we can resolve these . . . issues. I am not just suggesting it, I am requiring it.”
Yet again, Harm started to speak. AJ, reading his mind, said in a loud, commanding voice that had become the tone for this meeting “And, either one of you transferring out is without a doubt NOT an option. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” was the immediate reply, neither obviously not wanting to agitate the Admiral further with any other stray comments.
“Rather than have you both see a military psychologist, which I’m sure you’d also prefer to avoid, I am sending you to a psychologist in Alexandria. She is an acquaintance of Meredith’s from college, who comes highly recommended. Before you say anything about this selection, I would like to advise you that I checked her references out on my own and feel that she is a more than suitable choice for this matter. Since your calendars are cleared, I took the liberty of scheduling an appointment for both of you this Saturday at 1400 hours.” AJ handed them both a card with a name and address on it.
Eyeing the card, Mac responded the only way she could, “Yes, sir”. Harm, on the other hand said, “I can’t believe . . . . .” before AJ silenced him with a look that could strip paint from the walls. Regaining his composure, Harm replied, “Yes, sir,” as well, knowing that any more discussion on the subject would be dropped. He pocketed the card with a sigh.
AJ sat down, saying firmly, “Since I have nothing more, you are both dismissed.”
The officers stood immediately and said, “Aye, Aye”. Turning on their heels, they exited the office, Mac first. By now, Tiner was back at his desk. He breathed a sigh of relief seeing them leave. At least there wasn’t any blood shed, he thought.
“Tiner!” AJ shouted, “Where’s the damn aspirin?” The young PO nearly jumped clear out of his skin.
Mac paused in the hallway, wanting to say something to Harm about their situation. She knew they had no choice, but wanted to tell him she was relieved that they were actually doing something to resolve matters.
“Mac, don’t start,” was all he said, walking by her in huff, eager to grab his belongings and leave. Anywhere is better than here, he thought.
Mac was hurt. She truly hoped that the Admiral knew what he was doing, otherwise there would be a transfer in their future—hers. She returned to her office to lock the drawers of her desk and get her briefcase and cover. Once done, she pulled the door closed behind her softly.
The entire JAG ops was quiet, having heard only the bits and pieces of the Admiral’s diatribes that shook the windows. Everyone’s eyes were on their work. They saw Harm leave abruptly, now it was Mac’s turn. Watching her leave, Harriet longed to ask what transpired in the Admiral’s office but thought it was best to let it alone.