JAG - Retold (Season 2)

Spoilers: Skeleton Crew (01x22) onwards. Basically any episode with Catherine Bell in it. But keep in mind that this is definitely gonna skew AU.

Disclaimer: I owned the characters. For thirty minutes. Then the police found us. JAG belongs to Donald Bellisario, Belisarius Productions, Paramount Television and CBS.

Author's Notes:
The idea behind this is an exploration (on my part) to see if it is possible to get our (or at least my) favorite couple together before season 10 episode 22, while still maintaining enough story line juice to make it to season 10.

When I started exploring this idea, I had no idea the scope and time commitment this would entail. That I am basically trying to find a way to recreate 227 (more or less) episodes in fanfic form is probably the craziest thing I've ever attempted with words. Not to say I'm not excited by it, just that I hope I don't epic fail this.

I don't know if it'll be any good - and I wish I had more discipline to rewrite entire episodes and shipper it up from top to bottom, but I don't. I can only hope it makes sense to everyone - even if you're not familiar with the stories, don't remember the episodes or actually do and forgive my mistakes anyway. Thank you for reading this, and I hope you enjoy it.

Special Thanks:
Special thanks to all the writers of JAG fanfics here. I've enjoyed all your work tremendously and inspired me to do this. Yes, I've actually read most of the JAG fanfics here and I read almost every new thing that comes up. And yes, I do mean it when I say I enjoy all your work. I think I'm an addict or something.

Episode 1:
We The People

1700 ZULU
MAC'S APARTMENT
GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON, D.C.

It was exactly noon when the pounding at her door started. US Marine Major Sarah 'Mac' MacKenzie, resplendent in her crisp uniform put down her coffee cup and walked to her door, fully expecting the visitor. After all she had been sent home from Marine Barracks Washington, D.C. earlier in the day by her CO... correction, former CO for this very visit. This did not make her a happy camper.

Throwing open her door, Mac was surprised by the number and type of visitor - three dressed like they were working a funeral, if not for the telltale white earpieces they wore. Secret service.

The two men secured the corridor while a woman, not much shorter than Mac's statuesque 5'8" stepped forward.

"Major Sarah MacKenzie?"

"Yes?"

"Please come with us."

Mac was taken aback by the sudden command, but years of Marine Corps service had helped her develop a form of poker face, one which she used to great effect now. "I think there's been a mistake. I've been reassigned to the Judge Advocate General Corps in Falls Church."

"Yes, ma'am, you have."

Mac looked at the woman, a blonde, how very unlike the secret service. It was dark hair, dark suits, dark shades - a deliberate uniformity so they were never outstanding enough to differentiate one from another, never distinctive enough to pick out of a crowd. When it dawned on Mac that these were not secret service agents.

"We're with the State Department, ma'am." the blonde responded deciphering Mac's unasked query from her unguarded expression.

"Are you sure?"

The blonde almost cracked a smile at that, "Yes, ma'am, and time is of the essence. This way, please."

"I don't suppose you care to identify yourself?"

The blonde did, leaving her colleagues nameless, "Agent Andrews, Nancy."

Mac's right eyebrow went up, revealing her skepticism at the probable cover name, but when she wasn't going to get a further explanation, she took a bracing breath and reached for her car keys.

"That will be unnecessary ma'am. We've already secured transportation for you."

Mac silently cursed the cold efficiency of the clandestine services. 'State Department, my ass.' This stunk to high heaven of a certain agency named with initials, and she didn't mean the FBI.

Upon leaving her apartment, the suits guided her down the stairs to the back alley, where an unmarked black sedan waited. Mac stepped in when a stray thought surfaced, 'I hope this isn't a kidnapping.'

When they didn't move to knock her out cold, Mac supposed this was on the up-and-up. Still she didn't relax because it was the shadiest up-and-up she had ever been a part of - and she had served in countries where triad gangs and marauding warlords routinely picked up women in dark unmarked sedans.

"Isn't this pretty excessive for JAG?"

"Yes ma'am, it is."

"Are you at least going to tell me where we're going?"

Nancy, if that was her real name, smiled, somehow unnerving Mac even more with that show of humanity, "1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, ma'am."

It took a lot to surprise Major Sarah MacKenzie. She'd witnessed war zone carnage in Bosnia, she had to overcome a language barrier and local dissatisfaction in Okinawa, Japan. She had even survived Duke Law.

But these things could never prepare her for heading to the most famous address in the country.

"The White House?" Mac asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

Mac took another deep breath. When her CO suddenly pulled her off a double homicide case and told her she had been reassigned to JAG Headquarters, she knew something suspicious was up. And now being whisked to the White House? She was prepared to be thrown for a loop today, but she wasn't prepared to take on a tornado.

oxoxoxo

1800 ZULU
1600 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE
WASHINGTON, D.C.

Lt. Commander Harmon 'Harm' Rabb Jr. stood proudly before the 42nd President of the United States. The words said by a Navy spokesperson describing his achievement were plain, as in the finest traditions of the Armed Forces, but they couldn't sound any sweeter to his ears.

Harm tried to keep his eyes front and center at the President. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his mom, Patricia Burnett, trying her best not to burst into tears of joy, and a small smile tugged at his lips.

He hadn't expected her to be there. After his father had been shot down over the jungles of Vietnam on Christmas Eve, 1969, Trish had fought to erase any form of military connection - actual, visual or symbolic - from her life. Harm wasn't allowed to wear his uniform when he visited her and she hadn't even come to his Annapolis graduation, a fact that should have hurt, but Harm accepted was just her way.

After all he had suffered by losing his father, he understood that what his mom lost was so much more than just a husband.

The President spoke as he pinned the medal on Harm's chest, "Lt. Commander Rabb, you may single-handedly give lawyers a good name."

"Thank you sir." They shook hands, one attorney to another, before Harm ripped off a perfect salute to his Commander-in-Chief.

The Navy band struck up the first strains of Anchors Aweigh, bringing the official ceremony to an end. Harm descended the steps to hug his mom whose words tripped over her emotions and tears.

"Oh, Harmon, I'm so sorry. I'm messing up your jacket with my mascara."

Harm laughed and held his mother closer. "It's okay mom. It's a dark suit so no one will notice."

"I'm so proud of you, you know that right?" Trish's voice was quiet, trembling with sincerity and hope that he recognized how true her words were.

Harm smiled genuinely at his mother, dispelling her fears. "Yes, mom. But it's always nice to know."

"Harm?"

Hearing him call, Harm turned to the older gentleman with a camera. Harm tried to disguise his aversion, his mouth formed into a thin-lipped smile as he shook the man's offered hand, "Frank."

Frank Burnett was a slight man in his 60s. A VP at Chrysler Motors, Frank was, for lack of a better word - a car salesman. He was his mom's second husband and as much as Frank tried, Harm had never allowed him to be his second father. Harm didn't have the fondest memories of Frank growing up, a feeling Harm was sure was mutual.

The silence stretched out, neither man knowing what to say, one still trying to bridge the gap even after all this time, the other still building walls to keep him out. Perhaps their names were all the communication they needed, and it proved to be all the words they had time to say.

"Ahem. Commander." Harm looked around for the new voice, extremely glad for it. It had come from his commanding officer, a squared away two-star Admiral - A.J. Chegwidden who was standing to one side next to a young but portly Lieutenant - Bud Roberts.

The Admiral spoke with the patience of a saint, even as his foot tapped with the devil's restlessness, "Sorry to cut the time with your family short, but when you're ready."

"Yes sir." Harm responded, knowing it was never wise to keep your boss waiting. Harm turned to his mom. "I'm sorry mom, duty calls. But I'm glad you flew out here for me. I'll call you tonight?"

"But I wanted a picture." Trish pouted, even as her grip tightened around his arm.

She pulled him down to her height for a picture, surprising him with her strength. Even as he looked to his CO for assistance, he didn't fight his mother's grasp and afforded her this luxury. He smiled for the polaroid - one then two, when his mom planted a kiss on his cheek before releasing him for good.

"Take care, Harmon. I lo..." she remembered to hide her true sentiments. Her son was in the company of his peers and she had no intention of embarrassing him on this day. Her words morphed to a more acceptable generic, "Be safe." keeping her words of love for another time.

His mom waved at him even as Frank led her away. Harm waved back and was embarrassed at the display of affection in front of his commanding officer. He came to stand at attention. "Sir."

A.J. smiled. "At ease, Commander. I know when I'm outranked." he nodded, indicating Harm's mother.

Relieved at the Admiral's acceptance, a genuine smile brightened up Harm's face, "Yes sir."

"Walk with me." Harm fell into step beside the Admiral as they left the White House lawn.

oxoxoxo

Mac stood next to the black stretch limo, unsure of what she was doing here. She tried not to be distracted by the sight of the roses that filled the garden, even as the perfect weather made it possibly one of the most beautiful sights she had ever had the benefit of seeing in person.

She heard the voice of her new CO, Admiral A.J. Chegwidden carry over the garden and stepped forward to greet him.

"Afternoon, Admiral."

And then she saw him.

The tall Lt. Commander was handsome, she had to admit that, and a squid - well that was not something she admired quite as much. He looked like a million bucks and his casual walk informed the world he was as good as advertised. 'Judging from the shiny Distinguished Flying Cross on his chest, maybe he was.' Mac couldn't tear her eyes away.

"Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb, Major Sarah MacKenzie." The admiral introduced them and she raised her hand to shake the Lt. Commander's.

"Mac."

And he just stared at her.

oxoxoxo

She was beautiful, Harm couldn't doubt that. Possibly the most beautiful woman in the world. Probably the only woman he could ever love. Because she was. She was Lt. Diane Schonke.

oxoxoxo

Bud Roberts stared at the Marine Major in front of him, and instant recognition filled him, followed by a quick look at Commander Rabb to gauge his reaction. 'Uh-oh.'

Bud could see the warning signs as the Commander's normal facade of confidence and charm crumbled. He couldn't blame the senior officer - it was a ghost come back to life.

Bud remembered Lt. Schonke fondly. They had served on the Seahawk together. She was beautiful, but smart too, and a lot of fun since she routinely traded wisecracks with him whenever the attention from the press got too much for her.

And there was always too much press. Bombarded with daily requests for interviews and photo spreads - including several from Playboy, Diane was everything the mainstream media loved - a young, single and very attractive woman serving on an actual warship, and evident to anyone who knew her - deeply in love...

Bud's eyes went to the Commander again. He'd heard the rumors, even snuck unauthorized peeks at the investigation notes, but now with the Commander's reaction to the Marine Major... he knew for sure.

Harmon Rabb Jr. had been in love with Diane Schonke as much as Diane had been with Harm.

oxoxoxo

An image of Diane had burned itself in Harm's memory. She was dressed in her Navy uniform as she left that night for deployment on the Seahawk. It was six months ago and he remembered everything, he replayed it in his mind enough to remember everything - how she had looked back, smiled and laughed at one of his lame jokes before stepping out of his life forever.

His eyes devoured every detail that was Sarah MacKenzie. Her hair was a tad longer, but there was no mistaking that beautiful face. She was Diane in every way - those soulful brown eyes, that cute nose, those sweet lips. He leaned in to taste them...

Mac saw the flash of desire in the handsome Commander's blue-gray eyes before he caught himself. Instead his hand shot out to shake hers before she could retract it. "Harm." he replied.

"You two know each other?" asked the admiral at the awkward exchange.

"No, sir."

"Yes, sir," said both Mac and Harm respectively, at the same time.

It was a beat before Harm realized his words. "Oh, I'm sorry, Major. Of course I don't know you." He gave Mac the best smile he could muster for now, "I just had a moment of déjá vu."

With a wary grin of her own Mac offered, "Must be the uniform."

"No, actually, she was in the Navy," Harm answered truthfully and Mac felt the awkwardness return. In a moment of unguarded clarity, his eyes betrayed a world of pain to her.

'Whoever this Navy lookalike was, she must have done a real number on the Commander.' Mac thought.

The Admiral hadn't noticed it until Harm's comment. 'Good God.' he gasped internally, he had never even thought of the Major as a dead-ringer for the Lt. Commander's dead Naval Academy girlfriend. But now that he had seen the resemblance, it was almost impossible not to.

He hoped that Harm wouldn't be stupid enough to confuse the Marine Major with Lieutenant Schonke just because they looked so much alike and warned, "Don't get too familiar, you two work together."

But before they let go of each other's hand, A.J. saw the spark between the Marine Major and Navy Commander. 'Great.' Now he was sure he would have to send a chaperone with them everywhere.

oxoxoxo

1831 ZULU
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

The bullpen stood at attention as they entered, in deference to the Admiral's rank and the fact that he was everyone's boss. "As you were." he barked and was immediately obeyed. JAG ops returned to its usual state of paradox, a controlled chaos between two warring factions - military order versus paperwork chaos.

The Admiral noticed that most of his staff had their attention glued to the numerous TV screens overhead - the military news feeds that ran 24 hours a day but only had about 4 hours worth of programming.

The watching throng were tuned in to the ZNN report of 'a shipment of nuclear warheads' that had been stolen from a convoy in Arizona. A.J. could only hope for the sake of humanity (and the state of Arizona) that the nuclear warheads were indeed a fancy piece of fiction cooked up by someone's sick mind.

When A.J. spotted the man standing in a three piece suit and a beige overcoat, he knew which sick mind that was.

It didn't help that A.J. had seen the face of this particular son-of-a-bitch once before, and that it was one too many times already.

"I hope that news report is not true, Mr. Webb." A.J. said as he breezed past the weasel faced man, whose pinched expression made him out to be the kind of man who was born with every social advantage except a sense of humor.

He fell into step beside the Admiral as they made their way to his office, "It's a cover, Admiral, one that I fed to ZNN. I'm just glad they bought it."

Harm wasn't as impressed with the fussy man's work, "I'm sure news of stolen nuclear warheads will make everyone sleep easier tonight."

Webb shot a castigating glance at the Lt. Commander. He didn't have to explain his methods to a junior officer who didn't understand the role of media and politics in the military. Sun Tzu had preached to win a battle it was best to control the high ground, and there was no higher ground in America than the media.

Entering his office, A.J. went straight to his desk while ordering them to, "Introduce yourselves."

Clay went first, as he always did. "Clayton Webb. I'm the Special Assistant to the Undersecretary of State."

Harm eyed the 'State Department' agent, saw how the three-piece suit Webb wore had probably cost more than Harm's monthly mortgage.

"Rabb," Harm said, offering his hand to the 'I'm not CIA' CIA agent. "So the state lost the Declaration of Independence."

"We did not lose it, we had it stolen, by Marines." Clayton knew of the reputation of Harmon Rabb Jr. and decided that there was enough there to not like him. He would have preferred to stand next to the pretty Marine Major, but his accusation made it certain he would find no friend in her either.

"MacKenzie. Assuming they were Marines." Mac took the implication of Marines personally. Webb was talking about them without any respect. She still shook his hand, personal feelings were no excuse for rudeness.

"Roberts," Bud also introduced himself, using his deepest voice, but found his handshake ignored and Webb's personal feelings of entitlement to excuse the rudeness.

Instead Webb continued his briefing, "The hijackers were in a Marine Huey, wore Marine camo and used Marine Recon tactics. If they are not Marines, they used to be. And as you people in the Corps like to say: There is no such a thing as an ex-Marine."

"Or ex-CIA." Mac replied, her voice ice cold and a face hard as stone. 'Good God, she may be tougher than Harm.' A.J. thought. 'Heck, she might even be tougher than me.'

"We believe they were part of a splinter group who call themselves the Defenders."

Webb saw her eyes widen briefly and her back stiffen. It was so slight that he'd only caught it because he was looking for it.

Just at that moment, Webb's phone rang. He heard the few panicked sentences from his assistant before biting out furious monosyllables, "What? Where?"

Webb tamped down on what would have been the most inappropriate curse he'd ever uttered just in time. Instead, he reached for the TV remote and turned the TV to the channel his assistant had given.

When the small TV set in Admiral Chegwidden's office showed Colonel Matthew O'Hara standing before the Declaration of Independence, Mac couldn't believe it. It was really him.

Colonel O'Hara was a Marine legend, lauded and beloved by many who ever put on the olive green uniform. As he delivered his manifesto for the government to change its ways, she was ideologically torn. The lawyer in her knew what he had done was wrong. The Marine in her knew what he had done was exactly what the founding fathers would have done.

'Revolution' was a dirty word in Congress and unfortunately for the people they were supposed to represent, a far more frightening prospect than the word 'tyranny'.

Mac listened to the weasel shaped CIA agent continue to castigate the Marine Corps and Colonel O'Hara. As if the weasel who worked for the 'Undersecretary of State' knew what honor, honesty or patriotism was. Clayton Webb's alliances changed as often as his pliable politics.

Clayton Webb looked at the Marine Major standing next to Rabb. She was striking, and if he squinted hard enough, would even consider her gorgeous. Despite her stony exterior, her face revealed plenty to him for she had no problems revealing how little she thought of him. There was no smile, not even the hint of civility. No matter, she wasn't here to be civil. She had a role to play and her being pretty was unimportant. For now.

Clay looked up at the tall Commander beside her and silently cursed the fact that he had to. Normally he would have positioned himself far enough away to make it seem they were seeing eye to eye. It was a useful political tactic, building false rapport as quickly as you could stab them in the back.

But with the Commander being 6'4", Clay would have had to stand outside the door just to achieve that vantage point. Or get on the Admiral's desk, which unless he didn't want to keep both his legs attached, Clay knew wasn't an option.

Still, he'd put them all in position, wound up their little clockwork mechanisms and knew as military personnel they would predictably dance to his tune quite nicely. Everything was going according to plan... except for one thing.

Colonel O'Hara was never supposed to get his damn hands on the Declaration of Independence!

oxoxoxo

NEXT DAY
0030 ZULU
SOMEWHERE NORTH OF YUMA

After throwing a little misdirection, Mac thought she had rid herself of the troublesome Clayton Webb of State, the naive Lt. j.g. Bud Roberts and crucially, the indescribable Lt. Cmdr. Harmon Rabb Jr. That was until she saw the black FBI helicopter chase her down and ordered her to stop.

Mac gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as the black FBI helicopter landed on the highway in front of her. The chopper door opened and out hopped the man she had so desperately needed to ditch.

Reminding herself to think of an excuse she feigned concern when he approached the car.

"What's up?"

Harm leaned in close to the open window, "You're headed the wrong way, the base is south. You wanna tell me what you're up to?"

"I must have gotten turned around." Mac hoped he was misogynistic enough to buy 'Female Driver Syndrome'.

No luck. "You know where Colonel O'Hara has gone to ground, don't you?"

She protested but he cut her off. "Damn it, Major, enough. I'm not a fool. Who is he to you?"

Mac hated the fact she didn't have the ability to lie to him further. She was aware that he could report her and aware that he could alert everyone to her knowledge of her uncle's position with a single phone call. Still she could have lied, but her resolve crumbled.

"Colonel O'Hara's... my uncle."

That was not the answer Harm expected to hear and his face made no attempt to hide that fact.

oxoxoxo

"Hey, there's a bed back here." Harm smiled as he checked out the old pickup he and Mac had rented.

"So?" she replied, without a trace of her usual calm. At Mac's stern look of disapproval, his smile faded. "Just saying it'll make our cover more convincing."

Mac wished he didn't use that smile so much. Not that she was becoming inured to it, but because she was sure that he didn't know what he was doing to her with it. It pissed her off that the man was so casual with that megawatt smile. It really pissed her off that he did it almost unthinkingly.

What pissed her off most was that... it had made her cave so easily. She could hear the demons of her past spit out their vitriol at her weakness for his easy smiles and his devastatingly good looks. And damn it, his smiles still gave her chills. She felt like a fool for even being remotely attracted to this damn man.

He had gotten her to somehow agree to this, used blackmail and trickery to force her to take him to Uncle Matt.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, forming the soundtrack to her ever darkening mood.

While she knew at some level Harm had done what he'd done to try and help her resolve the situation, he didn't know her and she didn't know him and most of all, because he could resort to lies and tricks so easily, she knew she couldn't trust him.

Just like all the other men in her life.

A twangy country song blared over the radio. Tuning it to any other channel was impossible as the tuning dial was stuck to whatever frequency it was on. Obviously it wouldn't be a problem for the original owner of the truck. For Harm, it sounded like the apocalypse.

The rain finally made good on its threat as fat drops fell hard and fast against the wind shield. Harm looked sideways at his new partner and saw how beautiful she was framed in the low light. His eyes drifted over the floral dress she had changed into back in the gas station. He admired how her skin radiated, how her lips curled naturally upwards when she wasn't concentrating on scowling, how her breasts rose with every breath.

She'd been silent of late, very silent. Of course, in the short time he'd known Sarah 'Mac' MacKenzie, she barely said anything to him at all. She wasn't like Diane, who talked openly, shared her emotions so freely, kissed him so passionately...

"Mind telling me where we're going?" Harm asked.

"North."

"Figured that much out for myself."

"I'm taking you with me, isn't that good enough?"

"Not if you try and lose me first chance you get."

She turned to look at him and try as she might she couldn't stay mad at him. Damn it! And he knew it too. Double damn! She returned her attention to the wet roads ahead, remembering to breathe, and remembering not to be affected by the smell of his aftershave. Or at least be less attracted to it.

"Colonel must be one hell of an uncle. He raise you or something?"

"Or something."

"I'm just trying to understand why a Marine officer would lay it all on the line."

"He's a man with strong personal convictions."

"I was talking about you, Major."

Mac made the mistake of looking at him. He gave her the smile she craved so much. The one that annoyed her. The one that she liked. The one that one day she was going to wipe off his face. Unless he stopped sharing it with the world at large.

"That's a very nice smile, and I'm sure most of the time it gets you what you want. But I don't know you, Commander, so if you don't mind, I'll keep my personal reasons to myself."

His smile faded, his mind instantly a lifetime and a thousand memories in the past.

"I keep forgetting I don't know you."

"Déjá vu again?"

"Only whenever I see your face. Or hear you talk. I wouldn't know about your smile, I haven't seen one yet."

"There's not much to smile about."

"I guess not."

She glanced at him and for once Mac saw the defeated slump in his shoulders. Was it possible that instead of being a heartbreaker, Harmon Rabb was himself a victim of a broken heart?

"Sounds like I have a twin out there."

He didn't want to remember her that way. But he did. The blood on her shirt...

"Not anymore."

He said it with such sadness that Mac was caught off guard. Sensing his pain, it was obvious that death had touched much of Harmon Rabb's life and Mac felt the ice around her heart thaw a little more.

She thought of Eddie. Eddie Vogelsong had been her closest friend during the drunken haze that was high school. He had been her drinking buddy, her confidante, her protector, but not her boyfriend or lover. Not because she didn't want him, but because he didn't want her. She denied it when he didn't return her kisses, but she knew. And if she didn't, he revealed why to ease the pain of his rejection. She loved him, the first man she dared to, even if their love would never be romantic.

His death had been the lowest point in her life, but it had also been the catalyst for her to face up to her stupidity and allowed Uncle Matt to rebuild her into something more. Someone stronger. Someone better.

Looking at Harm's haunted expression, Mac knew that whomever he was thinking of was someone special. A first love, like Eddie.

She saw Harm keep his eyes focussed straight ahead, remembering something that she would never be a part of. Perhaps it was better that way. If looking at her caused him this much pain, why would he ever let her into his life?

It's not like they had a future together anyway. This one case and she was sure she was gone, just another distant memory in the glorious career that would be Harmon Rabb's.

She hoped one day he would find closure and peace. If nothing else, he was too damn damaged to not deserve peace.

oxoxoxo

TWO DAYS LATER
1310 ZULU
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA

Admiral A.J. Chegwidden leaned back in his chair as he took in the two lawyers that were undoubtedly on the next cover of the Navy Times. Well, one of them - the one with the Distinguished Flying Cross on his chest was already a shoo-in. Now he'd just have to share the cover with the beautiful Marine by his side.

Harm and Mac were seated in the Admiral's office, a day after their successful recovery of the Declaration of Independence from the Defenders, a splinter cell group led by Mac's uncle - Colonel Matthew O'Hara.

As Mac recounted most of the story of the dramatic events in Red Rock Mesa, it was left to Harm to fill in on Mac's various brave actions in the ensuing action - something that the Admiral had never seen the former fighter jock do with such eagerness or ease.

Even though O'Hara may have been the founder and leader of the group, some of the Defenders decided that while the ideological battle against Washington was good, the monetary benefit of ransom was much better, and had turned on the highly decorated Marine Colonel.

In the ensuing fight onboard a helicopter, one of the rogue Marines plummeted to his death. And if the pretty Marine seated in one of the chairs hadn't defeated the other rogue Marine onboard, the Navy Lt. Commander seated in the other chair would definitely have met his end too.

Then there was the part where the Major had taken the Commander at gun point...

"You pulled a gun on the Commander?" the Admiral A.J. Chegwidden turned to Mac.

"Sir, I was..." Mac tried to explain.

The Admiral laughed, cutting her off, "Major, I like your style."

"Sir?" Harm's eyes were as big as saucers.

"Oh, don't worry Commander. It's not like she shot you." before he added quietly, "We can't be that lucky."

"Sir?" Harm asked again, this time unsure if he had heard right. Mac's low chuckle confirmed that he had.

Chegwidden turned back to the pretty Marine. "Major, I've talked to your former CO. Now I know you're interested in returning to your double homicide investigation, is that correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Personally, I think it's a step backwards Major, career wise. But all I can offer you here at JAG is an office and a spot on Colonel O'Hara's defense team."

"You're allowing me to defend uncle... the Colonel?"

"You'll be second chair to Commander Rabb though, if you still want..."

"I'll take it sir."

A.J. smiled, "Very good, Major. I'll process the paperwork to make your reassignment permanent and you are welcome to choose your office. Dismissed."

"Aye, sir." both Harm & Mac responded as they rose, saluted and snapped around to exit.

On their way out, Harm leaned in to Mac and whispered, "How about a little celebration, partner?"

"Celebration?"

"My treat. Until your first JAG paycheck, then it's yours."

"Doesn't a real gentleman always pick up the check, Harm?"

"I wouldn't know, Mac. I've never dated gentlemen." Harm teased, making Mac's pulse race as his warm breath tickled her ear.

"Your treat right? Anything I want?"

"Anything you want. Within 50 bucks."

Mac smiled. She had definite ideas within 50 bucks. She had worked up quite the appetite over the last few days, and looking up at the Commander, knew just the perfect place to fill it.

oxoxoxo

Harm couldn't believe what he was witnessing. She was a fantasy wrapped in a dream. She might even be his fantasy, even in her green Marine uniform.

But what she was putting into her mouth was the biggest most disgusting burger he had ever laid eyes on. Thick with melted cheese between slabs of beef, topped off with crispy bacon drowning in mayo and ketchup, in between the sorriest excuse of lettuce, fused together inside a huge bun - Harm could feel himself getting a cardiac arrest just by looking at it.

And she topped it off with a chocolate shake. With monster fries on the side. And a second burger on its way! And she still had the figure of a pin-up model!

Harm picked at her fries, only for her to slap his fingers away.

"If you wanted something, sailor, you should have gotten your own."

"Well, considering I'm feeding you... Mac, I can't stand to see you eat this. Let me take you to a nice restaurant."

"This is a nice restaurant, Harm."

"It's a Beltway Burger."

"That doesn't mean it's not nice. Look, there's everything you need here. Beef, cheese, buns, lettuce. Protein, dairy, carbs, vegetables. It's a balanced diet."

"Balanced by whom? Satan? Look at this, everything is either burnt or on its way there."

"You said I could get anything I want."

"I didn't think you'd want this."

"Oh, and what does Mr. Nutrition here think I wanted?"

"Well, something not so... dead."

"What do you mean not so dead? Did you think I'd eat a live chicken?"

"No! You know, I thought vegetables, fresh fruit..."

"A vegan? You thought I was a vegan? Harm, I don't think you'd find a vegetarian Marine anywhere in the world."

At Harm's silence, Mac put it together. "You did think I was a vegan, because you're one, aren't you?"

"No." Harm answered defensively, "I eat fish, and chicken. Sometimes. Just no red meat."

"Well too bad for you, veggie boy. You've got a red meat loving partner in your life now."

"Veggie boy?" He asked amused, and after fighting it for a futile second, a smile broke across his face.

"If the shoe fits." She waved a fry at him before popping it in her mouth. "Besides, this is so much better than tofu."

"Tofu's not so bad. I'll prove it to you next time."

"Next time? What makes you think there's gonna be a next time?"

"I'm offering free food."

"Free tofu. That's not food."

"Are you turning me down?"

Mac paused, "No. But just where do we find this miraculously tasty veggie meal?"

"I'll cook."

"Where? I've seen your apartment, remember?" And she had. There was no power, no furniture, he didn't even have floors.

"How about your place?"

"Ah." Mac didn't expect that. "My apartment."

"I've shown you mine, now show me yours."

Mac tried not to blush, but she did. She thanked God that her burger was big enough to hide most of her face. Oh, once upon a time she might have been tempted to show him hers, but since they were working together now, that was no longer an option. Damn.

Next Episode: Jinx (2x03)

AN: I've not rewritten/added to episode 2x02 Secrets - since I was quite indifferent about the episode. For this series, I consider it canon - it happened, but I'm not planning on referencing it from this point out. So to all Corporal Magida fans out there, I apologize in advance.