Thursday, September 22, 2022

Chapter Six - "Why Didn't You Tell Me?"

Author's Note: Note that my timeline will make a few significant departures from the canon story-line. And the promotion timeline of Meg Austin will follow The Naval Officer's Guide ((9th Edition) which is the copy that I own; 9th edition printed in 1989 – I'm not buying another one…the damned thing cost me $29.99CDN back in 1990 (when I found it) – I have no idea why it was sitting on a Canadian bookstore shelf, but I snagged it) guidelines for time in rank and promotion. Considering a few things in Season 1: where Meg admitted that she was a baby at the time of the moon-landing (1969); I figured that she was born in 1969; early in the year and followed that timeline. If she was born one year earlier; she would have already been a Lieutenant (O-3) (one year in time served in rank) by the events of the Pilot episode and Shadow.

Chapter 5 – "Why Didn't You Tell Me?"

Meg's Apartment; Capitol Hillcrest Apartments; Navy Yard District; Washington DC; 27 September 1994; 0745hrs

The two weeks had flown by; filled with fun, frolic and lots of amorous encounters in the morning; in the shower and before bed. Animal had picked up his stuff from the shipping place and had figured out where he could store it at a DC storage facility the majority of the things that wouldn't fit the apartment. He picked from his uniforms what exactly he could use and brought them home with him…and it went into their closet to hang beside Meg's uniforms. Meg did get a kick out of seeing his uniforms hanging beside hers. Animal did have to drop off his dress blues at Bethesda Naval Medical Center NEX to have them change out the braid from Lieutenant Commander to Commander and they were to be picked up when he next went to get his weekly check-up on how his wound was healing and it seemed to be closing up pretty well.

They had another X-ray to see what the inside of the wound area looked like and it appeared as though it was getting better. But there was still a ways to go before the doctor would give the all-clear. Judging from what it looked like it would be December before he was cleared to start rehabilitation and depending on how his body reacted to the rehabilitation regimen, the schedule could be lengthened or shortened as necessary; Animal preferring the latter option.

He missed the feel of stick and throttle in his hands and the power of the TF-30s pushing at his back to propel him at over Mach 1.2 through the air. He missed being able to pull on the stick and have the F-14 go from Angels 10 to Angels 30 in a heartbeat. He missed the thrill of getting up in the morning to pull on his bag, grab his flight-helmet from the locker; do the grunt'n yank to get on his g-suit and climb aboard the F-14; getting ready to get cat-shot off the deck and go out and do some bumping. There was no thrill more exciting than to challenge another combat aviator and test each other's limits; no more satisfying feeling than bringing your nose on the guy, knowing that he knew he had majorly fouled up and kill him with a TACTS shot right up the left or right burner can. To show your squadron-mates that you had what it took to be number one in their arena of air combat. And as Joe "Hoser" Satrapa had once said, "No greater kill than a guns kill…" to track that pipper across the tail end of a MiG and put those twenty-mike-mike right into the engine.

When he was with the Howlers, he'd had the controls of a beast powered by a pair of GE-F110-GE400s and they put out a lot more power, 27,600 pounds of thrust than the under-powered TF-30s (20,900 pounds); The F-14D (new-build airframes) and the F-14A+ or later called the F-14B (modified frame and re-engined) were engined with the General Electric F110-GE400s. VF-241 Howlers had the F-14D and the VF-41 were still flying the Pratt and Whitney TF-30 engined F-14As which meant that you had to make certain that your idiosyncracies in the F-14D didn't manifest themselves while flying the F-14A, because it could put you into a lot of trouble. The F-14A had a tendency to compressor stall, which ended up if you were in a low energy situation and one of your engines compressor stalled; it would put you into a nasty yaw to port or starboard depending on which engine flamed out; a nose-slice which would if unchecked end up in a fast unrecoverable flat spin; out of which the only solution was to eject. This spin was known as the RIO-killer; because the airflow around the aircraft in the spin was akin to a zero pressure zone in a tornado and the canopy would hover above the crew compartment of the F-14. With the RIO's seat always firing first in an ejection sequence: that meant that the RIO would slam headfirst into the hovering canopy; the speed of the impact breaking their neck and killing them. Of course that high-speed impact knocked the canopy out of the way so that the aviator could eject without being killed as well; however that was a costly way of insuring the front-seater's survival. And sometimes even the impact of the RIO to the canopy did not suffice to move the canopy out of the way…and then both crew-members impacted the canopy…killing both RIO and aviator.

He remembered what it was like to go against that Su-27 during the Gulf War; that knife-fight-in-a-phone booth: the turning battle to see who was going to get out of there alive. The Iraqi ace had managed to get the drop on him at the outset of the fight, and put several holes in the twin tails of the Tomcat. But Animal had compensated for the lack of maneuverability from those hits and had pulled seven Gs on the F-14, pushing the envelope of the Delta Tomcat's structural g-tolerance to break the lock. The F-14 managed to stay together and he was able to turn the tables in a satisfying turn of events; forcing the engagement into a turning battle; watching his airspeed so that he didn't lose energy. Lose energy; lose the fight, because if you couldn't yank your nose up into the vertical, you were dead. When he'd pulled that hard turn to port, cranking the stick over, and pitching up into the vertical, the Iraqi ace couldn't keep his nose on the Tomcat, even though the Flanker was quite maneuverable; either the opponent wasn't paying attention or he had his nose in the weapons display setting up with an Apex to put right through Animal's burner can. Animal had actually pitched up into the sun in order to keep the missiles from tracking the heat from his cans. The sun would confuse the Apex's IR tracker and blind its pilot visually so that he couldn't see where the Tomcat was from the glare the sun was putting on his visor; so the ace chose to point his nose down and extend. Animal then stomped left rudder and came over the top cranking his F-14 into a snap-roll and getting a momentary pipper on the Su-27, had triggered his Vulcan; seeing hits along the top of the Su-27; the twenty millimeter shells slamming first into the fuselage ripping pieces from the Flanker and then tracking right through up the fuselage into his canopy. The Flanker had done a slow roll and impacted the wadi; there was no ejection, no chute; just a satisfying blossom of orange red flame and black smoke against the sand. He'd downed the Iraqi's ace and that bastard wouldn't be getting any more kills against the Navy or Air Force jets; the ace had managed to down an Air Force F-16 prior to this battle which would be his last. Animal had had a prior engagement with this ace where he'd managed to track a nine-lima into the guy's right burner can of his MiG 29, but the ace had managed to eject. And evidently he'd started flying a Su-27 within the ten weeks between their two meetings. Animal was sure that the guy had trained on both types prior to the war so that he could switch between types easily. Middle Eastern air forces were like that. Train their guys on multiple types so you could switch them between squadrons rapidly as the need presented itself. Poorer nations had to use their pilots like that in order to gain a tactical edge.

Frankly, Animal figured that in a diplomatic setting, he and the guy could have found common ground in the fact that they both flew, but circumstances had led to the fact that they were on opposing sides in a war where only one side could be the victor and the fact was that each was trying to kill the other. Animal intended to be the guy who came out on top and flew with that intention going into the engagement.

Meg knew that her boyfriend missed flying his jets and she understood that one of his loves was flying; and that flying his high-performance jet fighters was a part of him just like breathing. It was the same with Harm and the fact that every time they had an assignment on-board a carrier, he looked as though he'd come home. Harm wore his wings with pride; advertising proudly the fact that he'd served as a naval aviator before circumstances had pulled him out of the cockpit. He and Animal were alike in that fact. They both lived and breathed flying. They had served together in the Howlers and the fact that both were in the air covering the other as flight-leader and wingman; meant that they knew each other on a combat level that was second to none. And that was why Harm had managed to come through the Gulf War as a MiG Killer; shooting down an Iraqi MiG-27 Flogger. Everything that Animal had gone over with him clicked like clockwork.

Animal had taught him everything that he'd known as a naval aviator who had served with a squadron that had first blooded the Tomcat by taking out two Libyan Su-22s; one of which had gotten the brilliant idea to launch an Atoll off the port rail…at an F-14 flown by Commander Hank Kleeman who promptly shot the stupid bastard down; and the other was gotten by Lieutenant Larry Musczynski. Animal, having come into the squadron a year later, had seen the gun-camera film, had talked to the guys who walked him through the engagement and told him what they did and why and he'd passed along that information to the guys who he taught at RAG. Though a proud Howler, Animal had a soft-spot for the squadron that he'd served with on his nugget cruise and that would be the squadron that he went back to once his two cruises with the Howlers were over. The squadron whose patch he wore proudly; the black edged red slashed white playing card with the Ace of Spades bearing the number 41. Nuggets had to earn the right to wear that patch and he'd done so. It was the squadron with which he was when Meg had met Animal on that MoH investigation.

Harm had told her that you always respect the two guys that taught you to fly; the first being Lieutenant Gary Hochhausen with who Harm had learned the baby-steps taking his first uncertain foray into the realm of naval aviation with the T-2C Buckeye at Pensacola. The second was Lieutenant Toshio Nakamura, who taught him how to fly and fight effectively in the F-14 Tomcat at Oceana at Reserve Air Group training for newly minted naval aviators just newly winged and still in their baby-down flight-feathers blinking owlishly at the predatory new bird that they were assigned to fly.

What Meg and Animal had bought in groceries was for the two weeks that they had spent together which had promptly disappeared into their stomachs and digestive tracts and it was time to replenish the stocks. So it was back out to Costco to get some more stuff that they could use. Meg always chose to bring her own lunch from home. It was cheaper that way and on a Lieutenant Junior Grade's pay, it was quite tight to end up going to eat at the officer's galley. The enlisted had their meals paid for, the officers if they chose to eat in the galley ended up having to cough up. So Meg always made some extra food and made sure that it was always ready for her to take to work. The only times that she ever chose to eat in the galley was during out-of-town investigations and well that was just for convenience's sake. She wouldn't have the time to cook on investigation. And Animal loved that about Meg, her frugal nature, fed into his own and that way they both knew that their intentions were to have a tidy little nest-egg.

Meg grinned at her boyfriend; it was wonderful to be able to have someone to share life with, especially someone who loved her as much as Tosh did. She would miss him while she was at work, but she knew that in the evenings when she came home, he would be there waiting for her. Of course it probably made her partner at work, jealous as heck, but the simple fact was that Harm would just have to come to grips with it; that her life-partner was not meant to be him but the senior officer that she had met on investigation, the one who was hanging out on her couch right now with a look of intense concentration at the list that he was making of foods that needed to be restocked. And it helped that despite their difference in rank – he was three ranks ahead of her; he was boyish looking still at the age of thirty-six; that was the thing with Asians, they didn't look their age at all. Most people looking at the both of them would think that they were roughly about two, maybe three years apart; no-one would think that there was eleven years difference between the two of them with Tosh being the older of the two. And he still had that boyish zeal about him about most things in relation to flying; except when it came to combat flying – then he was dead-serious; and considering his achievements in that arena, he was deadly.

"Mmmhmmm?" Animal looked up at his girlfriend with a grin, "I think I've got a list…but I'm sure there's things that you'd want to add to that."

Meg took a brief glance at the list, it was pretty thorough; aside from a few toiletries that they needed to stock up on, it was pretty complete. She smiled at him, "It looks good…of course there may be a few other things, but I wouldn't guess on that until we're walking down the store aisle." Her mind flashed to another aisle…that she would like to be walking down, but she didn't want to scare him off. There would be time enough to consider that particular aisle when their relationship had matured to the stage where they were prepared to make that commitment. "So…should we get going and get some groceries done?"

"Yup…sounds good." Animal checked his watch; it was now around 0815hrs.

Meg was surprised; her mental reverie had killed off half an hour of time? Well, they would have to get going and get stuff done. Costco opened at about 0900hrs, so and it was a good forty-five minutes to an hour in travel time, so they would get there roughly at about the time the doors opened. After locking up the apartment, they headed down to the parking garage downstairs; walking to and getting in Meg's car (it was the larger vehicle of the two and they would be able to pack more groceries into the bigger back trunk). Animal buckled in as did Meg and she started the engine while Animal sat back and relaxed. Checking her rear-view, she backed out into the driving lane and nosed her way slowly over to the parking garage entrance; when the security gate had come up, she nosed out of the parking garage entrance, up the ramp then hit the turn-signal to enter the street.

The drive over to the Costco wasn't very congested and they managed to reach the place about five minutes after the doors opened. Then it was back inside the store to go get the food and other necessities that they had on their list. "Think we should get another ice-cream? Tosh?" Meg smirked at Animal, "I'm sure that in this heat we need to have something cooling us down; rather than driving up the water-bill…" She got a lascivious smirk in return and nudged him affectionately with her shoulder. "If I was at work now, I'd be in khakis and thankfully in air-con…" she said. She was dressed in a mini-jean-skirt and blue silk shirt and had on sneakers. It was cooler attire than the jeans and white cotton shirt which would get really warm in the heat of midday. Plus it also had the added effect of making Tosh's eyes focus on her assets; which probably wasn't such a good thing because he nearly collided with the rack of watermelons on display in the aisle that they were on which would have caused a catastrophic avalanche, averted only by diverting his attentions off her six narrowly missing the display rack after he yanked the cart back onto course.

Yup, Meg was causing him all sorts of distraction and she knew it too; judging from the sway of her hips every time she walked in front of him. Oh, things were going to get very heated at home when they got back from grocery shopping. He thanked the gods above that there was a shopping cart that he could walk behind or he would have shown everybody just how interested he was in the young blonde woman who was with him and that probably would not have been an appropriate thing in a store. And she was intending on drawing out that torture…looking over her shoulder with a come hither seductive glancesaying, "I need to go look through the cooler to see if there's any frozen vegetables that we need to get." Yeah…her leaning over and checking out the frozen peas and diced carrots, knowing just how good of a view of her six that she was giving Animal, was making him feel very happy indeed. The grocery shopping was finished about an hour and a half later, chock full; paid for by Animal and then carted out to the waiting car; where it was quickly loaded up. The cart was brought back to the shopping cart corral and they then started on the return trip back to the apartment. When they got back…they both looked at each other with passionate looks… "We need to get these things put up…" Meg managed to get out; her voice husky with desire.

And there was a rapid hustling of getting all the groceries put up and arranged nicely so that they could be easily grabbed during food prep. When Meg and Animal were done, Meg looked at him with a low-lidded gaze and parted lips…and grabbed him by the waist, pulling him into the bedroom.

Meg's Apartment, Capitol Hillcrest Apartments; Navy Yard District; Washington DC; 27 September 1994, 1300hrs

Meg's eyes were half closed, sweat beaded on her upper lip…as Animal leaned over her looking down at her, his bare chest glistening with sweat. "That was something…" she managed to get out between trying to catch her breath… "I feel wrung out…" He grinned at her…breathing heavily as well. Still intimately joined; they continued their exercise in amorous contentment; and she wrapped her legs around him, locking him tight. "Yes…Tosh…just like that…" The mountain was climbed…and then the precipitous fall off the edge…as he shuddered. Meg felt warmth inside her as she gripped him around his back and pulled him in close in a tight embrace, as Animal collapsed, utterly spent and completed. "Mmmm…Tosh…" she whispered in his ear as they both recovered from their climactic moment of passion. When she could speak clearly, she told him, "I think we need a shower. I'm all sweaty…and you are too. There goes the water-bill…but this is worth it…" she smirked at him, her hair disheveled and limp with sweat.

She looked beautiful, Animal thought; at any point of the day or night, including her after-passion look which was arousing.

They somehow untangled themselves from the rumpled sheets which were now damp with sweat and proceed to head for the bathroom.

When the shower was started and tested for temperature; she stepped in and then let him step in. She raised an eyebrow in question and gave him a low-lidded look…laden with meaning. He pulled her in close and kissed her passionately. Their bodies pressed up against one another. Animal stood under the shower, "We need a rain shower… the one that's directly overhead." Meg looked at him giving him a look of agreement at that assessment, "But I guess we'll just have to improvise."

She turned around with her back to him, as Animal pulled her in close; under the water spray of the shower; she reached around with her hand…and Animal's eyes widened...as he realized what she wanted; so as soon as he was able to; with her help, he complied. She breathed deeply as she accommodated him…and then pushed back against him. She bent over and handed him the bottle…and gave him a grin; still joined…pressing back against him. Animal grinned back at her. Her hair was soaked…the shower jets sending rivulets of water down her back. So he lathered her hair…and ran his hands through it.

She uttered a soft moan as she felt his hands kneading her scalp making sure that the shampoo cleaned every follicle of the hair on her head of all the sweat that had accumulated. She enjoyed every minute of this shampoo…ever since they'd first done this the night that he'd arrived at her place. Those intimate moments with him, where she felt his closeness, she loved. And some of those shampoo sessions were just hot and steamy…she'd gotten thoroughly aroused enough that she was pretty much prepared to jump his bones the minute that they got out of the shower. Hell, sometimes she didn't even bother waiting to finish the shower; they'd have their intimacy right in the shower with the water pounding through their hair as they made love. This was a side of Meg that her partner at JAG would never, ever see; in fact, she was one hundred percent certain that he would never see this side of her at all; as her personal relationship's future was with the man who was with her right now in the shower; where they were so intimately joined as one, her body pressed back against his torso and feeling his hands running through her hair.

"Oh…Tosh…I could have you do this all afternoon…" she sighed; the water pounding at her back felt so good. There were other things that felt good too and she gave him a lascivious smirk as she gave him a whole new set of sensations by adjusting her hips as Animal groaned in pleasure.

Animal pulled her back into the water spray so that her hair could get rinsed off; then applied the conditioner; again running his hands through her hair as he made sure that the conditioner was well-applied. He was definitely gaining first hand knowledge of how to shampoo and condition a woman's hair.

When they were done (more than just the showering); it was time to dry off and get lunch started; with their desire for each other's bodies, the fact that they'd missed lunch had apparently gone by the wayside – all that exercise was now certainly making them both ravenous. After changing the dressing on Tosh's shoulder, they both got dressed and headed out to the living room. At least their damp hair made the living room feel a little cooler as the stiflingly hot September early-afternoon air was certainly still on the hot end of the temperature scale; of course when night fell, the temperature dropped rapidly with the fall approaching. Washington DC was at about the same latitude as Eureka, California on the other end of the continent though of course the jet-stream and air currents would affect the climate of each location differently. They still weren't too certain as to what they wanted to eat for lunch, but they rummaged through the fridge and figured out something that wasn't too laborious to make that would do in order to ease the hunger pangs. The meal that they cobbled together was a cold cut black forest ham and roast beef sandwich apiece with iceberg lettuce and tomatoes and mayonnaise dressing. It wasn't fancy, but it did the trick as far as taking care of their hunger.

Meg had a few cases that she had to go through in prep for going back to work the next day so she sat on the couch with the files in hand while Animal looked through his NATOPS manuals and made sure that all the information was fresh in his mind; even though he didn't know when he was going to be heading back to the cockpit, he still wanted to make sure that his procedures were down pat. After all, he was no longer an impatient cone-head with his hair on fire looking to make a name for himself; he'd already done that on Hill 175 and in the skies over Iraq; his name now was talked about in fighter jock circles as someone who'd been there; done that. Now he had something and someone to live for and to make sure that he preserved himself for bigger and better things down the road; that someone being the woman who was sitting on the couch intently focused on her legal files. His mind wandered along paths as he gazed through the emergency bail-out procedures for the F-14A Tomcat.

As much as he loved his mount; his beloved F-14A Tomcat that he flew in the Black Aces; not even her compared to Meg Austin and he would pull the loops if he had to in order to live to return to his Meg; no hesitation at all. A FNAEB was nothing compared to losing the opportunity to have a future with her. Not that he expected to with the thorough walk-around that he did pre-flight for which he was known for; but unforeseen situations did crop up and well, if it came down to it; there was no way that he'd dig a furrow along with the Tomcat he was flying.

JAG Headquarters, Washington DC, 1425hrs

Rear Admiral Albert Jethro Chegwidden walked through his office anteroom; turning to the legalman standing by the desk.

"Get me Lieutenant JG Austin's jacket…" he said, indicating that he wanted LT JG Austin's personnel file.

"Aye, aye, sir."

"O-3 convening boards are being held in March of next year and the results are posted in June. I want to make sure that she's in consideration for advancement." RADM Chegwidden grinned; good officers deserved to be retained and Lieutenant Austin was a damned good officer as evidenced by her abilities in helping Harm defend Captain Tom Boone and in defending the Marine who ended up accused of espionage in Iraq when the Iraqi Republican Guard had twisted the borders to their benefit in taking him prisoner; And the fact that his considerations for selectees would be given greater consideration if they were sent in early, rather than last-minute would prompt the selection board to note the file as highly considered by their commanding officer.

It wasn't more than ten minutes before Lieutenant Austin's file was on Chegwidden's desk. The admiral made some notes in the file and made reference that he wanted a copy made of the jacket so that he could send it and three others in his command, for the O-3 boards, considered for retention. The ranks from O-1 to O-3 were relatively automatic, however certain situations could make it so that the officer wasn't retained; the ranks that were higher than O-3 were subject to space available as after O-4 the limited number of command and executive officer positions made it imperative to higher command to make sure that the spaces weren't log-jammed by a surfeit of officers with no positions and those who were less than capable officers were subjected to up or out. And if the commanding officer didn't make the recommendations, their officers weren't even considered for recommendation to be retained so it was imperative that the commanding officer not delay his recommendations; to get them in; in a timely manner and Chegwidden made certain to put LT JG Austin's file right at the very top with a post-it saying, "Highly Recommended".

Lieutenant JG Austin's fitreps were highly glowing and they were consistent all the way through all the commands that she was serving in prior to her arriving at JAG and RADM Chegwidden's latest quarterly fitrep for Lieutenant JG Austin was no different; which would go a long way to making sure that as of the end of June, when the list of those selected for O-3 were posted; Austin's name would be on that list and she'd be able to pin on those double bars of a full Lieutenant. He grinned again; Commander Nakamura would have to be called into the JAG office in order to make sure that he was there for his girlfriend's promotion ceremony within the office where she would take the commissioning oath for her new rank and position. Chegwidden thought wryly that Rabb's face was going to be a sight as Lieutenant JG Austin had given him the kiss for his promotion to O-4; but he wasn't going to be able to return the favor. Poor Rabb. Maybe he'd be happy enough to help pin on the lieutenant's bars on the opposite collar; but no, since Meg was a staff officer, she didn't have the second rank bars but a staff identification pin on the "opposite collar", well, it appeared as though poor Rabb was out of luck. Ah, the problems caused by love-triangles.

Harm's Office, JAG Headquarters, Washington DC, 1535 hrs

Harm knew that his partner was returning to work the next day. He'd refrained from bothering her for the past week so that she wouldn't rip his head off when she returned to work. He sighed as he thought about the young lieutenant JG. She was very vivacious and attractive and he'd had quite the crush on his partner; they'd flirted quite often, but never went beyond that. And now he'd lost that chance; since his RAG mentor had captured Meg's heart. Love sucked as far as Harm was concerned. And he knew that this wasn't some week-end whim and fancy; he'd seen the look in Meg's eyes as she gazed at Animal and that wasn't the look of someone infatuated – there was genuine desire and love there. He looked at the file on the desk with some frustration as his mind seemed to want to take a long walk somewhere other than where it was supposed to be which was concentrating on the Helms case; which was a serious case that he was asked to prosecute.

Lance Corporal Roderick Helms; United States Marine Corps, was in contravention of Article 86 (10 U.S.C. 886) of the Uniform Code of Military Justice for being Absent without Leave. The text of the statute read: Any member of the armed forces who, without authority—(1) fails to go to his appointed place of duty at the time prescribed;shall be punished as a court-martial may direct. The elements being: (1) Failure to go to appointed place of duty. (a) That a certain authority appointed a certain time and place of duty for the accused; (b) That the accused knew of that time and place; and (c) That the accused, without authority, failed to go to the appointed place of duty at the time prescribed. Of course Helm's defence was that he was living off-base; that the traffic was heavy that date and he had arrived at the place about fifteen minutes after the prescribed time. He would have let the CO know but he had run out of airtime and wasn't able to take extra time to refill his phone. Of course his CO was a ball-buster; so Helms was placed on charges. Harm was prosecuting attorney; however he felt that Helms should be let off with non-judicial punishment; however the CO was not likely to agree to that, so unfortunately for Helms, he was going to be subject to proceedings. Harm would, however, recommend highly that LCPL Helms be considered for extenuating circumstances under Subsection (c) (6) (6) Inability to return:The status of absence without leave is not changed by an inability to return through sickness, lack of transportation facilities, or other disabilities. But the fact that all or part of a period of unauthorized absence was in a sense enforced or involuntary is a factor in extenuation and should be given due weight when considering the initial disposition of the offense. When, however, a person on authorized leave, without fault, is unable to return at the expiration thereof, that person has not committed the offense of absence without leave. The maximum punishment under Article 86 (d) (1) Failing to go to, or going from the appointed place of duty: Confinement for 1 month and forfeiture of two-thirds pay per month for 1 month. However, Harm was going to, with approval from RADM Chegwidden recommend the punishment be lowered to restriction to BOQ for one week and forfeiture of one-third pay for one month before being allowed to go back to his off-base accommodations. Harm didn't feel that the fact that CO wanted him charged to the fullest extent of the UCMJ warranted the full punishment of 1 month confinement; and two thirds loss of pay for one month; especially when there was extenuating circumstances and the fact that Helms had in fact reported into the position that he was required to be at; albeit late with the full intention of serving his post.

Forcing his mind back on the case, he wrote in his recommendations and got set to go talk to RADM Chegwidden regarding that case and his recommendations to get the JAG's approval.

Knocking on his commanding officer's door, he waited for Chegwidden's roar of "Enter!" Harm entered the office; file in hand; squaring off in front of the CO's desk, he snapped to attention. "Sir, Need to get permission to proceed with sentencing recommendations…" Harm then passed the file over to Chegwidden who gave the file a good long look before…

…he replied, "Not going for maximum due to extenuating, Commander?"

"That's correct, sir."

"Very well, proceed...talk with the defence and see if they'll accept the offer. I think it's fair considering the circumstances." Chegwidden nodded, looking up at Harm with a measured expression. "The CO's going a little far with his prosecution of the Lance Corporal." was his taciturn judgement of the Colonel in question.

Harm noticed with barely a reaction on his face the file-folder; a personnel jacket, for Lieutenant JG Austin on Chegwidden's desk…and the post-it on the face of it which read, from what he could read upside-down, Highly Recommended. His mind churned on that for a long moment; then he said, "Thank you, sir…" with regards to the recommendation to talk to the defence attorney about getting the Helms case resolved. The unit was in pre-preparations to deploy to the Middle East and they needed all hands.

When Harm got back to his office, he sat down for a long moment…highly recommended. Was Chegwidden recommend-ing Meg for a transfer mainly because Chegwidden wanted Harm to feel more comfortable rather than pining after Meg all day? If not that, what could it be? That would prey on his mind for the rest of the day as he tried to focus on the rest of the cases on his docket which proved to be a fruitless attempt as he couldn't get the thought out of his head. Animal's with the Pacific Fleet. The Black Aces had transferred from Atlantic Fleet to Pacific a few years earlier. Is there a possibility that Meg was transferring to RLSO SW in order to be closer to Animal? He felt a pang of loneliness go through him of the fact that Meg would be gone from the office in short order; they'd really only been friends for the better part of an year since she came on board, soon after Kate left to become an aide to Rear Admiral Brovo. From their initial meeting in the investigation of Dirk Grover, the tech-rep who went bonkers and decided to set a programmable torpedo after a cruise ship; they'd grown in terms of relationship to a close one, of friends apparently, over the course of the cases that they had worked together and with Meg being recommended for transfer out of the office, he felt that he was losing someone that he was close to.

But Harm knew that he had to concentrate on his work. The cases that he was working on wouldn't stand for a good session of woolgathering and he needed to make sure that he put his full effort into making sure that he gave the clients a good chance at winning; at least on the ones that he was defence attorney for. The prosecution cases that he had were essentially going after the jugular of the defendant and sealing a win, which in Harm's former career as a naval aviator, ended up being much the way that he would go after an enemy in the air – fangs out. So he forced his mind back on his work as best as he was able to under the circumstances. He'd have to let the fallout from Meg's decision to transfer fall where it landed.

Meg's Apartment, Capitol Hillcrest Apartments; Navy Yard District; Washington DC; 28 September 1994, 0500hrs

Workday mornings for Meg were a blurring rush of getting things together and getting out the door. At least she had made her lunch the night previous. "Have you got your lunch, hon?" Animal asked her…as he got up out of his seat where he was eating breakfast. It wasn't so much the drive to the Washington Navy Yard as it was the stress of negotiating the Washington DC traffic congestion for Meg;

"Yes…" Meg replied as she gave him a passionate kiss, as she grabbed her khaki cover (they'd be switching over to blues on the first week of October), her lunch and her legal briefcase as she headed out the door. "You're off to Bethesda for a routine checkup today?" she tossed over her shoulder as she went through the open door; getting a brief affirmative from Animal.

"You have a good day at work…"

"I'll try." She leaned back in the door, smiling winsomely at Animal and gave him a longing look, "…but I'm going to miss you all day…you know…" she purred, "You spoiled me for the past two weeks…and I'm not sure if I want to go back to work.

"Yeah, but wouldn't you be AWOL if you did?" Animal grinned at her.

"Yeah…drats…guess I have to make an appearance."

JAG Headquarters, Washington DC, 0600 hrs

Meg signed in to the office, "Good morning; ma'am," the legalman greeted her. "Lieutenant Commander Rabb wanted to see you this morning…"

"OK…thank you, Legalman, I'll see what he wants." Meg smirked internally; she was sure that Harm wanted a rundown of her two weeks at home and she wasn't about to give him any inkling of what had been going on between Animal and her.

After putting her briefcase and cover in her office, she headed over to Harm's office to see just exactly what she wanted and knocking on his door, she was told to enter. Harm was standing by his window looking out at the scene outside; the hustle and bustle of the busy Navy Yard. "Sir? You said you wanted to see me this morning?" she asked.

Harm sighed; still continuing to look out the window, "So…were you ever going to tell me that you requested a transfer?" he asked bitterly.

Meg was taken aback, "Sir, I don't know what you're talking about." A grilling about Animal and her relationship was what she was expecting from Harm; not this.

"I saw your personnel jacket on Chegwidden's desk. Were you planning on transferring to Pacific Fleet and not telling me?" The pain and loneliness in Harm's voice was telling.

Meg, by this time, was confused as hell; "Harm, I never asked for a transfer…why would I…and even if I was planning to transfer to the Pacific Fleet; why would I do it right now?"

"Animal?" Harm said sourly; "Isn't he with the Pacific Fleet? Might make a very good reason…"

"He's convalescing from the gunshot wounds and getting treatment at Bethesda…so why would I transfer to PacFleet when he's here?" Harm turned from the window as Meg, exasperated by now, said, "Look Harm, I never asked for transfer, let's get that straight right now…and I wouldn't at this point…I just transferred in to HQ less than an year ago and I'd be shooting myself in the foot if I asked for transfer right now."

"So then why was your jacket on Chegwidden's desk?"

"I don't know…fitreps?" Meg ventured a guess.

"Fitreps were filed six weeks ago…" Harm replied still not believing it. His heart didn't want to believe it that Meg was telling him the truth that she didn't ask for a transfer; it was still too sore.

"…then I have no idea…"

"All I saw was a sticky note on it saying Highly Recommended." Harm said sourly looking over at Meg with a skeptical look on his face, "…so, Meg, what was I supposed to think. All yesterday I was thinking…but we're supposed to be partners." His voice barely held back a note of anger and hurt.

"Harm, this isn't just the folder, is it?" Meg asked Harm; insightfully realizing that there was far more to his reaction than just the simple sighting of her personnel jacket and that, in itself, was treading dangerous ground; should their commanding officer or a superior come into the office right at this very moment. "And I don't think we need to be delving into this topic on the Navy's time…" she warned him, "You understand, right?"

Harm knew exactly what she meant. If he kept this up; they could both be liable under Article 92 and Article 134 stipulating Fraternization and Conduct Prejudicial to Good Order. And that further exploration of this subject would end up causing Harm and Meg to be charged under those Punitive Articles under the UCMJ. He didn't want that to happen, so he dropped the subject; regardless of how much he wanted to continue the conversation; perhaps at lunch or maybe dinner together, but it would mean broaching the subject in front of Animal who probably wouldn't be pleased in the slightest at having to hear about this. "Well…" Harm said, reluctantly, "I guess we have to get back to work."

"Might be a good idea, sir."

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