By et-spiritus-sancti

Disclaimer: Based on CBS's "JAG". No infringement intended. All characters belong to "Belisarius" productions except for Grace Rabb, Clayton Webb Jr., and anyone else I make up along the way ;)

Alllll right, now that all the technical stuff is outta the way, just gotta say a few things. My other JAG story, "Unstable" is *not* finished, and I *haven't* completely abandoned it! Keep an eye out for the next chapter!

 This little story is set a...few years in the future. Harm and Mac are married, yadda, yadda, yadda. Only Harm is now *the* JAG, and Mac has retired. This is mostly centered on Grace. Not sure how long it's gonna be. I have a couple ideas sparking in my mind that might make this a little longer. And the film Back to the Future has nothing to do with the making of this story!! (you'll see what I mean in the next chapter!)

 Hope you enjoy it! Happy Halloween!! Oh, one more thing, since I completely hate the idea of Harm being a spook instead of a JAG attorney, I'm just gonna pretend season 9 never happened...

2130 ZULU

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

 Sixteen-year-old Grace Rabb stayed in the elevator and let the officers shuffle around her to exit. Grace watched the doors close yet a third time.

 Come on, Rabb. Get it together.

Grace put an arm in between the doors before they fully closed. She now stood in the corridor. One door led to the bullpen, the other to the conference room. Maybe she could hide in there to do her homework. No, the plan was useless. She'd have to talk to her parents one way or another. Might as well just get it over with. If they said no, she'd just have to live with it...and the fact that her social life would be ruined for a few months. But then again, Dad could say yes. Which is why Grace chose to come to the office first. She could usually get what she wanted from Dad.

 Grace adjusted the strap of her backpack on her shoulder, and strode into the bullpen, colliding with Commander Jason Tiner.

Grace watched in horror as the attorney's cup of coffee spilled all over his shoes. The girl drew in a breath, and slowly let her eyes meet with Tiner's. "Commander, I am so sorry."

He sighed, biting his lip. He then forced a smile. "It's all right, Grace. I've been meaning to get new shoes anyway." Tiner used the napkin he'd luckily had with him, and dried his hands. "What's the rush, anyway?"

 "Uh, well, I'm sort of still in a rush. Sorry!" Grace threw over her shoulder as she headed toward Admiral Rabb's office.

 The yeoman in the front office nodded at the girl as Grace cautiously put a hand on the door. She knocked on it quickly, and entered the office without waiting for an answer from inside. At the moment, her father was on the phone, and his head was bent over the desk, scattered with documents and folders. He glanced up quickly, putting his hand up, signaling to give him a minute. His gaze then dropped back down to the documents.

"Yes, sir, I understand. Don't worry, Mr. Secretary, it'll be taken care of."

Grace slid her backpack off her shoulder and placed it in one of the leather chairs opposite the desk. She then moseyed over to the window behind her father's chair, sitting on the ledge. Several photographs lined the edge of the desk, mostly of her siblings, her mother, and herself. On a shelf near the door, was evidence of her father's past occupation. The model of his yellow biplane rested among older photographs. Her favorite was of her dad as a boy, in Grandpa's Tomcat.

 The sound of the phone clicking onto the receiver shook Grace's gaze away from her father's past. She hopped off the window ledge and rested her elbows on the top of the leather chair.

 "What'd the SECNAV want?"

Her father sighed, rubbing his forehead. "More information than I can give—why aren't you at home, Gracie?" He inquired after he stood to kiss her on the head.

 Grace shrugged a shoulder and went back to her seat at the windowsill. At this, Harm went back to his documents, reading them over and then signing them.

"Actually, I need to talk to you." Grace said, knowing that would get his attention.

Harm put the pen down and slowly rotated the chair around to the window. "About what?" He asked suspiciously.

 Grace took in a deep breath and continued. "Okay, I was sort of asked to this Halloween party...and it's...kind of a big deal."

 Her dad cocked an eyebrow. "Really." He answered, his tone flat.

"Yeah, so, can I go?"

"Where is it?"

Grace bit her lip. "...It's at a frat house." She put her hands up in defense upon seeing her father's reaction, "now wait a minute. Lemme explain. The house belongs to Jordan Watz. And he's the older brother of Ben Watz, who's throwing the party. Now Jordan and his fraternity are in France, where there's some architecture program. So the party is just for high school kids."

 Harm clenched his jaw. "And the chaperones? And other college kids don't count." He added.

"Ben's mom is gonna be there. She's making all the food or something."

Harm let his head rest in his hands. When a question suddenly came to him and he picked his head up, resting his chin on his fist. "Who asked you?"

 Grace scoffed. "Clay."

Harm's eyes enlarged. "What? You two hate each other!"

"So? Showing up without a date is just as bad as not showing up at all! Besides, wouldn't you feel better about me going with someone you trust?"

"Clay is the son, and grandson of spooks, Gracie. Of course I don't trust him," Harm painfully watched his daughter's expression drop a few degrees, "Look, hon, why don't you just take your brother and sister trick or treating?"

 Grace narrowed her eyes. "Okay, first of all, Jake is too old for trick or treating."

"He's eleven. And if I remember correctly, you didn't stop until you were thirteen!"

"Second," Grace continued, "this party means a lot. If I don't go..." She stopped, noticing the hard expression on her father's face. Grace sighed, letting her gaze wander to another older photo of her father, a grown man, in the cockpit of his own F-14. Whatever happened to that guy? The cocky young man who looked danger in the face and laughed at it? What she would give to have known him then!

 "Look, Daddy, not that there would be any dangers, but if there were, you know I can take care of myself. Plus Clay will be with me! So...can I go?"

 Harm stroked the wedding ring on his finger and stared out the window, his eyes full of thought. "Let me talk to your mother. Then we'll see."

***

2314 ZULU

Rabb Home

Georgetown, Virginia

Mrs. Rabb shrugged. "I don't see a problem with it."

Harm chuckled incredulously. "Mac, it's a barely chaperoned party full of kids we don't know on the other side of town! I can see a lot of potential problems!"

Mac handed her husband five dinner plates from the kitchen cabinet. "What, you don't trust your own daughter?"

 The Admiral followed his wife into the dining room. "Of course I trust her. It's them I don't trust."

Mac took the plates from his arms, setting them each on the table, with Harm following her closely. "And you don't trust Clay either?"

 Harm narrowed his eyes. "Who told you that?"

"Grace, of course." Mac answered as she headed back to the kitchen, with Harm at her heals.

"You've already talked to her?"

Mac gathered all the forks and knives, handing Harm the napkins. "For fifty-seven minutes."

 "And?"

Mac sighed, thinking it over. "And I think she'll be just fine. Stop worrying, flyboy." She added, giving Harm the salt and pepper. Harm didn't move this time, and this caught his wife's attention.

 "All I can do is worry about her." He murmured.

***

Isabel suddenly shrieked and jumped out of her chair. The rest of the Rabb family whipped up their heads from their plates, while Jake laughed hysterically, holding up a fake, rubber rat. Eight-year-old Isabel curled in her bottom lip, snatching the rat away from her brother.

"Jerk-face!"

"Barf-face!" Jake through back.

"Dork!"

"Troll!"

"Stop!" Mac slammed her palm on the table.

Jake and Isabel quieted at the tone of their mother's voice. "Sorry." They said in unison. Harm and Grace glanced over at each other with stifled grins and continued eating.

Mac, sitting at one end of the table, reached her hand out to Isabel. "Give it to me." The girl brought the toy to her mother, holding it by the end of its tail with the tip of her fingers, a look of disgust on her young face.

 "Now sit down and eat you spaghetti." Mac instructed.

The children did so, but continued to pass nasty looks to one another. Grace decided this was a good time to change the subject.

 "So, Mom, Dad...have you talked?"

Harm and Mac exchanged glances. Grace's heart sank at the looks on her parents' faces.

Mac put her fork down and took a drink from her glass. Harm stared at his plate, twirling the spaghetti around his fork, but not eating it.

 The ex-Marine sighed, forcing a smile. "We did, Gracie, and we both think...maybe next year."

Grace's fork clattered on her plate, making Jake and Isabel start in their chairs. "Next year?! Next year? How will I be any different next year?"

 "We just think sixteen is a little young to be running off to parties." Harm said calmly.

Grace shook her head. "A little young? Well sixteen obviously wasn't too young for you to steal your parent's money and traipse off to Vietnam!" 

 The silence was agonizing, and Grace looked away, but she could still feel the four pairs of eyes staring at her. Inside, the anger still burned in her, but her hands were shaking from the disappointment and embarrassment that she could feel from her father's gaze. Her mother was the first to move as she sat back in the dining room chair.

 "Why don't you go—"

Grace didn't need to be told to go to her room. She stood abruptly, tightly pulled her sweater across her chest, and left the room.

 "I'm full." Jake announced as he stared at his food.

"Eat some more broccoli and you can go." Mac said softly.

Harm continued to eat as well, his blue eyes aberrantly dark. Isabel seemed to be the only one confused by the situation and she looked at each of her family members with a frown on her face.

 "Daddy?"

"What, baby?" He said dully.

"Why did you go to Vietnam?"

***

Clayton Webb Jr. swiveled his computer chair in slow circles, his head leaned back, and his eyes studying the ceiling as he listened to Grace's story unfold over the phone.

 "It was unbelievable, Clay. I don't think I've ever seen that expression on Dad's face before."

Clay sighed. "Geeze, Grace, exactly what the hell did you say to them?"

Her voice became irritated on the other end. "Nothing that would make it sound like the party was anything dangerous!"

"Well, you obviously said something wrong. Did you even consider how this would affect me?"

"Let's get something straight, Clay. The only reason I called you was to say that you have forty-eight hours to find another date."

Clay swiveled the chair around to his computer, initiating a game of Solitaire. "That's impossible. All the cute girls are taken," He said with a sigh, "Look, Grace, it can't be that hard, just sneak out of the house, and sneak back in!"

She scoffed. "Clay, my mother is an ex-Marine, and my father has done more special-op missions than I can count. I can barely turn over in bed without them knowing."

Clay scoffed. "You think that's bad? I live with two CIA agents. Sneaking out of this house is nearly impossible with the alarm systems and all that crap."

A pause on the other end. "Touché. But then how am I supposed to get outta here?"

 He shrugged. "Create a distraction in another part of the house. While your parents try to figure out what's wrong, sneak out."

***

2230 ZULU

Rabb Home, Georgetown, Virginia

October 31st

 The past forty-eight hours had been quiet in the Rabb household. Harm had made excuses to stay late at the office, Mac kept herself busy with cleaning the house, and Grace stayed in her room after school until dinner time. Even if the whole family happened to be present at the evening meal, the only sounds came from Jake and Isabel.

 Isabel forked a piece of asparagus and brought it up to her face. Her nose scrunched.

"Ugh, do I have to eat this?"

Harm's brow furrowed at his youngest child's comment. "What, you don't like it?"

Isabel watched as the vegetable fell from the fork and hit the plate with a soft "plop."

 "Daddy, how come everything you make is...weird?" Isabel asked as she poked the salmon with her knife.

 Jake forked a piece of his sister's asparagus. "I'll have yours then."

Mac hid her smile by taking a drink from her glass. "I'll make you a deal, Bel. You eat a few more bites, and I'll make you my beef stew tomorrow night."

 "Ah, Mom, gross!" Jake exclaimed.

Isabel grinned, then looked over at her big sister, who ate quietly across from her. "Are you taking us trick or treating tonight, Grace?" She said excitedly.

 Grace shrugged. "I don't think so. I'm kinda tired."

The little girl's expression sank. "You used to go with us."

  Grace stood, took her plate, and headed towards the kitchen. "Things change, Isabel."

Harm stood as well. "I'll help you with the dishes, Gracie."

"No thanks." She said from the kitchen.

He sighed and sat back down, locking eyes with his wife. She smiled sympathetically.

 "Give her time."

***

 Grace dropped down from the pergola, landing on the porch. She cringed from the thump her feet made, and hoped her parents didn't hear it. Most likely, they were at the other side of the house, calming poor Isabel down from the fake rat she'd found in her covers.

 Grace stepped carefully across the grass of the back yard. The cuffs of her blue jeans were already wet from the dew, but the cold, bitter night air would soon dry them. Closing the gate behind her, Grace made her way through Mrs. Bink's backyard and out to the sidewalk. She spotted Clay's car up at the end of the block. He must have seen her too, because he flashed his headlights. Deciding to run, since it felt much better than walking, Grace dashed down the sidewalk towards his car. And little did she know, that this little stunt was going to change the view she had on a life forever.

***

TBC

***

Okay, should I continue? I had a lot of fun writin' the beginning, I'd like to share the rest with you!!! And as always, if u spot mistakes or have any suggestions, please tell me. And as far as flamers...*shrug*...free speech is free speech. Ciao!

~sancti