Title: Christmas Angels
Author: StarTrails
Rating: PG
Spoiler: Season 8 events, and one quick reference to All Ye Faithful.
Disclaimer: Don't own JAG or the characters. Didn't write A
Christmas Carol, either.
Feedback: Address is StarTrails@h...

Summary: A very loose adaptation of the Dickens' classic, A Christmas
Carol, with touches of Capra. (My "ghosts" are more like guardian
angels.) Harm comes to his senses, with a "little help from his
friends." Aside from the one quick reference, this has nothing to do
with AYF, but is set at Christmas 2002. Also, with respect to K.
Klatte, author of "Harm's Christmas Carol." I got the idea to write
this a while ago, and read hers first to make sure I didn't
inadvertently plagiarize anything. I must say, my ideas were pretty
different, except for one, which you'll recognize if you read hers.
He was a big enough part of my story that I couldn't leave him out.

Merry Christmas, shipper style!


December 24, 2002
Harm's Apartment
North of Union Station


Harm had brought some paperwork home to finish during the holiday,
but when he attempted to start it this morning, it hit him how sad
his situation was. He had never been one to cover his home in tinsel
and red and green decorations, but even he could not deny that doing
work on Christmas Eve was just slightly pathetic.

So he abandoned the case files and treated himself to an elaborate
breakfast of homemade wheat pancakes, tofu sausage, and freshly
squeezed orange juice. He was a good cook, and he ate until he was
stuffed. After washing the dishes, he tuned his guitar, did some
cleaning around the apartment, and soon realized there was literally
nothing else to do. It was a beautiful day, perfect for taking his
biplane, Sarah, for a ride, but the airfield was closed for the
holiday. Not that Harm was angry. Just because he had nowhere to go
and no one to be with didn't mean the rest of the world was as
unlucky. Normal people had somewhere to be.

The gloom threatened to overwhelm him, so Harm changed into sweats,
laced up his sneakers, and went for a long run. It had been warmer
than usual in the Capital this winter, and today was no exception.
Which is not to say that it was warm, but it was just right for a man
to run his troubles away. Or, rather, run away from them.

The cool air felt good in his body and the crisp winter smell
invigorated him. And for a while, he did manage to forget what day
it was. Until he got closer to the heart of the city and groups of
singers were gathered outside most of the sights, caroling joyfully.

He tried to press on, but the reverent melodies soon became too much
for him. All those songs of praise and devotion. Well, bah,
humbug. What kind of all-powerful being takes a man away from his
six-year-old son? Or takes a leg from the kindest, most innocent man
there could be?

Harm had no answers to those questions. They were the kind of
unanswerable questions he'd been asking himself for thirty three
years to the day. But he had long ago stopped expecting to find the
answers.

Even as he ran past the crowds of people listening to the carols,
Harm felt very alone. How is it, he wondered, that I could be
surrounded by people, yet feel like I'm the last person in the
universe?

Those heavy feelings of desolation weighed him down as he made his
way back to his apartment. He took a shower and washed away the salt
that had dried on his skin, as it always did when he ran in the
winter. He took his time, knowing that for the rest of the day,
there was only one thing on his agenda.

He finally emerged when the skin on his fingers was wrinkly from the
long while in the hot water. He put his uniform on, grabbed his
cover, and locked the door on his way out. He had no trouble finding
a parking spot by the meters near the Wall. Normally, during the
week, there wasn't a spot to be had in the entire District of
Columbia. Between the government workers, students, and tourists,
every last one was always taken. But today was different. Most
offices were closed for the day, and the ones that weren't at least
closed early. Hundreds of visitors came to the memorial on Christmas
Eve, but they didn't stay very long, and parking spots opened up
quickly.

Harm emerged from his car, put his cover on, and walked slowly to the
familiar panel. Though he only made this pilgrimage once a year, he
could've found his father's name blindfolded. The path, the number of
steps, was engraved upon his heart. But even without those, he would
know instantly when he reached the spot, because when he did, he
always felt welcomed. As if he stepped into a groove made just for
him. Almost as if a pair of strong arms were embracing him.

He paid his respects, and lingered in the area for a while. He took
a seat on a nearby bench and watched the scene around him. All the
trees were bare, their colored leaves had dried, fallen off, and
blown away weeks ago. It gave the air a sense of emptiness, of
lifelessness. But the desolation was tempered by the people
lighting candles and leaving mementos as the foot of the Wall. With
the exception of his father's gold wings the year he met Jenny Lake
there, Harm had never left anything behind. For him, a heartfelt
salute had always been enough.

When he returned home, he changed out of his uniform and sank into
the couch with a book. He couldn't remember when he'd last had time
to read for pleasure. This was a rare treat. Or so he told
himself. He looked out the window behind him, and he could see
houses decorated with blinking lights in the distance. With a sigh,
he closed the blinds.

As hard as he tried, he couldn't concentrate on his book. His mind
kept drifting and he would read the same sentence over and over
again. The loneliness, he had expected. The guilt, he had not.

The day before, he had outright lied to Mac. Chloe was going to be
staying with her for Christmas, and Mac had invited him to join them
for a Christmas Eve slumber party and to stay the next day for
Christmas dinner. A platonic slumber party, of course. There was
plenty of room on the floor if Mac and Chloe took the couches.

But Harm had turned her down, and told her he would be spending the
next few days in La Jolla. No hope of a white Christmas, but his
family was there. But it was a lie. The Admiral was going to pass
the holiday in Milan with his daughter, and Bud and Harriet had
decided to have a quiet family celebration at home this year, instead
of hosting a big party. With Harriet being pregnant again, and Bud
quite simply being alive, they certainly had a lot to celebrate.

It seemed everyone had plans with someone special, except for Harm.
Days before, Trish had called to say she had to cancel her invitation
to him. Frank's mother had gotten very ill suddenly, so she and
Frank would be traveling to be with Frank's parents. He didn't tell
Mac his plans had changed. He didn't want to appear lost. He didn't
want her pity.

He closed his book and thought of Mac and Chloe, just a few miles
away. It would be so easy to pick up the phone and...but his guilt
was too much. He hadn't always been completely truthful with Mac,
but until yesterday, he had never actually looked into her eyes and
lied.

He did his best to block that thought from his mind as he gave in to
the sleep that beckoned to him. It had been an emotionally
exhausting day.

A while later, he had no idea what time, he awoke with a start. Or
so he thought. He heard someone calling his name.

"Harm.....Harm!" The voice was distantly familiar, but the face of
the man standing across from him he recognized instantly.

"Luke? Luke?! Is that you? How-"

The figure smiled, and folded his arms across his chest. "Relax,
Hammer, you're just dreaming."

"But...but-"

"But what? Go ahead, take a look." Harm followed Luke's finger,
which pointed at the couch. He saw himself fast asleep.

"But you're here. And you're so...so..."

"So real? Sorry Hammer. It's all you. You've got a great
imagination."

Harm's face wrinkled into a doubtful scowl. "Y'know, I *thought*
those tofu sausages were a little iffy."

Luke laughed. "It's not the sausages."

"Then what-"

Luke pointed straight up.

Harm rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"I'm serious, Harm. This little visit is on orders from the Big Guy
himself."

"Still taking orders, huh?"

"From the Supreme Admiral of the Universe, yeah. And I have strict
instructions for this mission, so strap yourself in and let's get
moving."

"Oh no. Not until I know what this mission is. How can I trust you
to be my pilot if I don't know our destination?"

"Always the control freak, Harm," Luke teased. He turned around and
showed a long pair of stunning white wings. "These babies don't
require a RIO, so I'll be in control of this one, thank you very
much. We go where I take us, and nowhere else. No funny business
from you, or He'll have my wings. You know better than anyone how
hard it is to get them back. And it's no different up there."

"Okay, so where are we going then?"

"Harmon Rabb, Jr., you and I are going on an all-expense paid tour of
your past."

With that, Luke and Harm were flying high above Washington. They
landed, and as they waited for the scene to come into focus,
something occurred to Harm.

"Hey, Luke?"

"Yeah buddy?"

"Before, when you called me Hammer. How did you know?"

Luke smiled. "I was there, Harm. I saw the guys give you your dad's
old call sign. I've always been there. For all the important
times. Who do you think led the rescue crew to you and Skates last
year?"

Harm's mouth was agape. He was speechless as he kept listening.

"Of course," Luke continued, "I led them to Skates first, but only
because I know that's what you would've wanted. But as soon as I
knew she was safe, I made a little detour to JAG headquarters and
whispered a little something in Mac's ear..."

Harm let out the breath he was unconsciously holding. His mouth
broke into an enormous smile and he stared at his friend in disbelief.

"And, by the way, nice job with that dirty nuke, too. Gave myself a
huge pat on the back after that one. Big Guy even gave me the next
day off."

"You're telling me it was you, and not me, who put that missile in
the water?"

"You helped." Harm opened his mouth to protest, but Luke cut him
off. "Hey, everybody's got a copilot, whether they know it or not.
And don't even get me started on that butterfly mine. I logged major
overtime for you that week."

"This is insane."

"Is it?" Luke pointed to the scene, which seemed to have
materialized out of nowhere. Harm looked around. It was his
childhood home. "Do you know where we are?" Luke asked.

Harm nodded. "Christmas Eve, '68." He'd know it blindfolded just
from the smell of the tree. It was the last year they had a real
tree. After that, it was easier for his mom to buy an artificial
one. Harm inhaled deeply of the pine scent. "I remember going with
my dad to pick out that tree," he reminisced. "I wanted
the biggest one in the lot, not realizing it wouldn't have fit
through our front door. So my dad picked a better one and I watched
him help the guy tie it to the roof of our car. God, I used to love
that smell."

"Used to?"

Harm looked at the floor silently.

"What's changed?"

Harm shrugged and answered dejectedly. "I don't know. My nose? My
life...Everything."

"Jeez, Harm. I came just in time then, because you are *way* too
depressed on Christmas. Keep watching."

Harm watched as his five-year-old self tore through present after
present. His father bounced him on his knee while Trish laughed and
snapped pictures. He sighed. "We were so happy. Mom made homemade
apple cider that year. Cinnamon stick, clove, and everything. I
think that's the year I made the decision to avoid meat when I was
old enough to cook for myself. After I saw mom gut the turkey." He
smiled, and then cringed, at the memory. "So, so happy."

"Yes," Luke said, "you were. And if you do one thing tonight,
promise me you'll remember that happiness. You're gonna need it
later."

Harm furrowed his brow, but agreed to remember the scene of his last
truly wonderful Christmas.

"Okay then, off we go," Luke announced.

"What?! Wait! Can't we stay here a little longer?"

"Harm, what'd I tell you before? We're on a strict schedule."

Harm was crestfallen. "Please...just a few more minutes."

Luke's voice softened. "I'm sorry. I wish I could, but you know the
rules."

Harm looked away, and before he knew it, Luke whisked him away to
another house decorated with tinsel and ribbons and Christmas
stockings. Harm saw himself there in his late twenties. He was
taking a picture of Luke, Annie, and Josh, who wasn't much more than
a toddler.

"Wait a minute," Harm complained. "We can't spend an extra five
minutes for me to watch my father, but we have time to come here for
your family? I thought this was about me."

"No wonder your planes have gone down so often, Harm. Your giant
sized ego makes them top-heavy."

Harm rolled his eyes.

"Besides," Luke went on, "this *is* about you. Just keep watching."
Luke and Annie's smiles were bright as they embraced for Harm to take
a picture. Little Josh waded through a sea of wrapping paper. Like
most children, he was more interested in the boxes than the gifts
themselves, and he climbed into an empty box and proceeded to adjust
the controls in his imaginary fighter jet. With Luke's arms wrapped
around her, Annie watched her son play and looked genuinely happy.

"She wasn't so afraid then," Harm remembered.

"No. I didn't go down until years later. She was fine with it at
first, my flying. In fact, I think it's what made us so good
together. She was pretty high-strung, and I was very relaxed. You
know, the whole opposites attract thing."

"Yeah," Harm agreed. Suddenly, it dawned on him. "Oh my God,
Luke...when you said you were always there, that you saw everything-"

Luke understood what he meant. "Harm, don't apologize. I always
knew you had a crush on her. Besides, you're one of only a few guys
I'd trust with her. And I know you loved Josh, too. Man, he
worshipped you."

"Only because I reminded him of you. Luke, you have to believe me, I
never tried to-"

"Take my place? I know. I know your feelings were genuine, for both
of them." He smiled and tried to lighten the mood. "Not that I was
thrilled to see you kissing her and...well, anyway, it's been over
for a long time."

"I did love her, y'know. She was just...she was so afraid of life."

"I know. But it was best for both of you. It wouldn't have lasted
long anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't commit to someone when you're in love with someone else."

Harm's eyebrows went up. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

Luke smiled and ignored the question. "Anyway, Annie's doing really
well now. She's got that great house in Baltimore, and she's dating
a banker. He's a good guy. Volunteer fireman on the weekends, so
Josh doesn't think he's *too* dull. Takes him for rides once in a
while on the truck. I think this could be the one."

"You didn't answer my question," Harm persisted.

"All in good time. Just keep watching."

Harm watched as Annie went to put an early Christmas dinner on the
table. It all seemed so real. He could smell the food and feel the
warmth from the fireplace. The lights from the tree reflected spots
of color onto Josh's face and his Superman pajamas. Luke's face was
filled with pride as he watched his son pretending to fly.

"You were all so happy. So in love. I always wanted that for
myself."

"What's that?"

"A family. A wife. Children. Someone to share my life with."

"You sound so fatalistic. What makes you think you won't have those
things?"

"Because I've practically got one foot in the grave, and not a
girlfriend in sight."

"Almost forty is *not* one foot in the grave, Harm. So you're a
little older than some kids getting married. I would say it's for
the best, if you were older *and* wiser. But I think you're only
older. Your mistakes haven't made you any wiser.

"What mistakes?"

Luke laughed loudly. "No way, Hammer. We don't have time to list
them all. You're a smart guy; you'll figure it out. And as for no
girlfriend, well, thank goodness for that. I had to do some serious
research to find that Cyrus guy. A few more months of you and that
whiny blonde and I was going to make a deal with the other side.
Maybe one day she's step off the curb, and a speeding bus would just
happen to-" Luke was cut off as an invisible hand gave him a hard
shove. He looked up to the sky. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry! But
you felt the same way, and you know it!"

Luke shook his head. "Look, Harm, just do me that one favor again.
Remember how badly you want a family."

"Like I could forget."

"All right. We've got to head back because you are depressing me and
I refuse to let you ruin my Christmas."

"But...but there's so much to say. Can't you stick around?"

"No, I can't. But there'll be plenty of time later on. We'll see
each other again, but not for a long, long time."

"Don't go, Luke," Harm pleaded. Even in his dreams, people he loved
were leaving him behind.

"I have to, Harm. But don't worry. I'm sending a friend of mine
down in a little while. Beautiful girl. You'll be happy to see
her." Luke walked into the distance, and as his image faded, he
called over his shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Hammer. And
remember."

Harm awoke out of breath, his heart racing. What a weird dream, he
thought. In no time at all, he was fast asleep again.

"Wake up sleepyhead," came a delicate voice.

"Harm, wake up," the woman's cooed.

"Commander!" she shouted.

The last one got Harm to jump up and open his eyes. "Jordan?"

"Boy, you never used to sleep that soundly."

"Wh-what are you doing here?"

She smiled at him. "Well, that's a nice how-do-you-do."

He returned the smile and relaxed his tense, surprised body. "I'm
sorry Jordan. It's nice to see you." He looked her up and down.
She was draped in flowing white robes and her long, strawberry blonde
hair spilled down her back. "You look beautiful. You always did."

Jordan blushed. "You're not so bad yourself."

Harm touched the top of his head and felt the hair standing up from
being sleep. "Liar," he joked. "So, to what to I owe the pleasure?"

"Didn't Luke tell you I'd be coming?" She shook her head. "He's
terrible with logistics. It's a good thing I'm his backup. He
almost dropped the ball with Bud Roberts. I had to save the day that
time."

"You were there-"

"Harm, please," she interrupted. "The leg was the best we could do.
You have to believe that. It was very grim. The doctors were ready
to give up. We had to do some intense bargaining."

Harm sighed. He was so confused and he didn't know what to make of
these tricks his mind was playing on him. "Why...why wasn't...it
should've been me."

"No it shouldn't have."

"Well, why him? Why Bud?"

"I don't know, Harm. I learned a long time ago not to ask
questions. He has His reasons, and that just wasn't part of the
plan. The plan was Bud, and we did the absolute best we could."

Harm hung his head low. "I know," he whispered. "Thank you. For
AJ, and Harriet, thank you."

Jordan nodded. "They're why we didn't give up. But enough about
that. Tonight's about you. We've got places to go."

"And where might that be?"

"Washington, D.C. and surrounding suburbs, Christmas Eve 2002."

"That's today."

She chuckled. "You catch on quick, Commander." Just as had happened
with Luke, they seemed to fly over the city. They flew west over the
National Mall, the monuments, and over the Potomac. They
descended slowly until they came to Bud and Harriet's house.

"It's too late for you and me, but I want you to know I get it,"
Jordan said.

"Get what?"

"Flying. I understand now. There's nothing like it."

Bud and Harriet were piling gifts under their tree for little AJ to
open the next day. Stockings with everyone's name on them were hung
from the mantle, and Harm noticed a plate of cookies and a glass of
milk, on the floor near the fireplace. Probably AJ had insisted on
leaving them for Santa.

Bud scooted closer to Harriet and she placed his hand on her belly,
with her hand on top. They smiled at each other, a smile of such
love and devotion. Bud lifted Harriet's hand to his lips and placed
a kissed it softly. Harriet quickly replaced her hand with her mouth
and they were kissing deeply.

"All right, show's over," Jordan announced, and she whisked Harm
away. "We have to be respectful. Omnipresence is not a license to
be a peeping tom."

Harm laughed. Jordan continued. "Did you see that, how thrilled
they are to have each other and be together?"

"They have you to thank for that, apparently."

"You could say that, but that's not quite what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

"Well, they have everything they ever wanted. Neither one had the
happiest childhood or family life, and they've been through so many
struggles as husband and wife. But in their love, they're raising a
son, and have another child on the way. They knew what they wanted
out of life, and they're ,making it happen."

Harm thought of his godson, of Bud and Harriet, and their joy and
optimism. He looked questioningly at Jordan, not quite sure where
she was going with all this.

"Do you know what *you* want from life, Harm?"

He regarded her skeptically.

"Don't answer. Just think about it."

He nodded tentatively.

Soon they were almost to their next destination. Harm recognized it,
even from several hundred feet above. They had come back east, over
Georgetown, and he could see Mac's building getting closer. "Oh, by
the way," Jordan said, "before we get caught up in this, I wanted to
let you know Admiral Chegwidden's having a wonderful time in Italy.
There's nothing quite like il Duomo at Christmas."

"Lovely," Harm said sarcastically.

"You're a real grinch, you know that?" Jordan admonished.

"Sorry," Harm replied. "I'm more of a Columbus day kind of guy."

"Why not Valentine's Day?" she teased.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't get me started."

"I would if I could. I can tell there's a story in there somewhere.
But you're in luck - we're here."

They were in Mac's living room. Mac was sitting on the sofa, hanging
ornaments on the miniature tree she placed on the table. Miracle on
34th Street was playing on the TV, but Mac paid it no attention. She
was focused on an ornament as she took it very gingerly out of its
box. It was a tiny F-14, with Santa Claus in the cockpit.

"I gave that to her," Harm said quietly. He and Jordan continued
watching as Mac brought the ornament to her lips and placed a tiny
kiss on one of the wings. With a sad sigh, she hung it from one of
the small tree's branches.

Suddenly, Harm realized someone was missing from the room. "Where's
Chloe? She and Mac were supposed to spend Christmas together."

"Close your eyes." Harm did so, and when Jordan told him to open
them again, they were standing in a terminal at the airport in
Vermont. Jordan pointed to Chloe, whose long hair was braided with
red and green ribbons twisted throughout.

"I HATE SNOW!" Chloe yelled to no one in particular. She stood
looking out the glass panels to the frozen runways and grounded
planes.

"Canceled flight," Harm observed aloud.

"Yeah. Everyone loves a white Christmas, but only if you're already
where you wanted to be."

In a flash, they were back in Mac's apartment. "Merry Christmas,
Harm," Mac whispered as she left the ornament to dangle among the
pine needles. She continued hanging others. Some were traditional
colored balls and snowmen and sleds made of popsicle sticks. Others
had more meaning, like the gold-plated eagle globe and anchor that
had been a gift from Gunny the year before.

Mac went into the kitchen and poured herself a thick, yellowish
drink. She brought the glass back into the living room and sat on
the couch, drawing her knees up and making herself seem awfully
small. She raised the glass and toasted the air. "And Merry
Christmas to you, Mac." She stopped herself before the glass
reached her lips. She sighed heavily and set the glass on the
table. She shook her head. "Pathetic, Mackenzie. Totally and
utterly pathetic." Her head sank into her folded arms, locking
herself away.

Harm watched, and his cold heart began to thaw at the seeing Mac so
sad. "She doesn't look happy at all."

"You sound surprised."

"I am. Mac loves Christmas."

"Not when she has to spend it alone. I mean, think about it. The
only real family she has to speak of is having Christmas dinner in
Leavenworth. Her almost little sister couldn't make it because of
the snow, and everyone else she'd want to spend the holiday with had
other plans. Even her best friend."

"Hey, it's not my fault my family lives on the other side of the
country. I was supposed to be there."

"But you're not there. And it *is* your fault you didn't tell her."

"Y'know, you never bugged me this much when we dated."

"We were dating on borrowed time."

"Borrowed time? What are you talking about?"

"F-14s, the law, Mac. I would've lost you to one of them
eventually. And I see my prediction hasn't come true yet."

"What prediction?"

"That you were only mine until Mac said she wanted you."

"Well, she hasn't said that yet."

Jordan raised her eyes at him doubtfully.

"Well, she hasn't!"

She smiled. "You just keep telling yourself that you can sleep at
night."

Harm was beginning to take offense. "I thought psychiatrists were
supposed to help people, not give them more problems."

"Don't put this on me, Commander. You've made your bed, and now you
can lie in it - alone."

"Are we done yet?" he asked impatiently.

"Almost. One last stop."

"And that's it?"

"That's it for me, yes. But you'll have one more visitor tonight."

Harm sighed. "Why? What's the big deal? Why can't you people just
accept the fact that I hate Christmas and leave me alone?" He was
exasperated.

"'Us people' are trying to help you, Harmon Rabb, Jr., and quite
frankly, judging by the raging party in your apartment right now, you
can use all the help you can get."

Harm had no reply. She was right, as always, and he hated that. He
hated her for knowing. But more than anything, he hated himself for
being so transparent. For leaving Mac to spend Christmas by
herself. For a lot of things.

After a few minutes, they arrived back in Harm's apartment. "I
thought we had another stop," he said.

"We do. Right here. Take a look." Jordan tipped her head toward
where Harm lay asleep on the couch. His open book lay face down on
the table, next to an open beer that was flat by now.

"So?" He said indifferently. "I had a tough couple of days,
finishing up at the office for the holiday. I was tired."

"I'm not talking about that. Fine, you were tired, you took a nap.
But now you conveniently avoid remembering that you specifically
closed your eyes and tried to sleep in order to forget being so
lonely."

"Thanks for the analysis, Dr. Freud. But last time I checked,
loneliness wasn't a crime."

"Of course it's not a crime," Jordan replied. "What it is is a
shame. A big shame. Especially when there's a beautiful woman, your
friend, feeling the same way. Boy," she said, shaking her
head, "when I get back, I'm putting your mother up for living
sainthood. How she's put up with you for almost forty years is beyond
me. It's only been forty minutes and I'm already out of patience."

Harm had no answer. He continued to stare at himself, stirring
uneasily, caught in the same twisted dream he was currently walking
through.

"Harm," Jordan said softly, "remember what you saw tonight. Promise
me. The Roberts, Mac, you. Please remember."

"I will, Jordan."

"Take care of yourself, Harm." She was almost in tears, her lower
lip quivering. She put her hand to his face, cupping his cheek
tenderly, but there was no contact. All Harm could feel was a warm
sensation where her hand was. "You have so much love to give, if you
could just believe you're worthy of someone taking it."

She floated away and Harm whispered, "Goodbye, Jordan," at her fading
image. He was irritated by some of what she'd said, but after she
was gone, he felt a void within him. It had been so nice talking
with her, for the very reason she irritated him. She knew him well.
She challenged him every step of the way. She was one of only a
handful of women who were immune to his smile and cocky charm. On
the very day they met, she had him all figured out, even down to his
father. He didn't like being so easy to read, but seeing her
again, hearing her voice, it was a comfort. With her, all his
pretensions went out the window. But she was gone.

A while later, Harm "awoke" again, to the sight of someone flipping
through his music collection. The man had his back to him, but there
was no doubt in Harm's mind who it was. He could feel it down to his
very bones.

"Dad?"

Harm Sr. turned around. He was wearing a Navy flightsuit and looked
very much like he had the day he was shot down, except for a white,
glowing haze all around him. He smiled warmly. "Hello, son."

"Oh my God," Harm said. He made his way over to his father and tried
to touch his face. But there was nothing tangible there.

"Sorry, son. I'm just a dream, same as your friends Luke and Jordan."

"You know Luke and Jordan?"

"I sure do. Every Tuesday night, the big Harmon Rabb, Jr. fan club
meeting in the sky."

Harm laughed.

"Oh, and your grandfather says hello. Diane, too."

"Diane...Grandpa..."

While he let it all sink in, Harm Sr., picked up a record from the
cabinet. "Jenny Lake and the Count Basie Orchestra? You've got good
taste. And on vinyl, no less."

"They don't make 'em like that anymore."

"No, certainly not." He studied the picture on the album jacket, the
young woman with long red hair whom he'd met on the Ticonderoga a
lifetime ago. "Look, Harm...you know I never...I mean, she and I-"

"I know, dad. She told me herself. Although, it's nice to hear it
from you."

He nodded. "She was a real special girl. And we both needed a
friend that night. Now, I could spend a week explaining things to
you...VietNam, the camp, Russia. But we'll have plenty of time for
that, in about fifty five years. Tonight, I have a higher mission."

"You're not going to take me on another whirlwind tour of my screwed
up life, are you?"

Harm Sr. smiled. "No, son, I'm not. You know better than anyone how
badly you've screwed things up. And I bet it feels that way
sometimes, but you're not the only one."

"Maybe not," Harm said, "but I'm also pretty damn good at screwing up
other people's lives, too."

Harm Sr. didn't need an explanation. He knew his son all too
well. "Son, don't worry. Sergei will come around. He just needs
some time. Lord knows he inherited the mile-wide Rabb stubborn
streak. But he'll come around."

"You really believe that, dad?"

"I don't have to believe it. I *know* it." He pointed
upwards. "I've got connections." He put the record back in the
cabinet. "Well, we don't have a lot of time, so we better get going."

"What do you mean we don't have a lot of time? Can't you stay?
There's so much to tell you. SO much to say."

Harm Sr's eyes clouded over with sadness. "I know. But I don't make
the rules. This is it."

"All right, well then where to?"

"First, right here, fifteen years from now."

"The future?"

"Yep. Take a look at Admiral Harmon Rabb, Jr., the Judge Advocate
General of the United States Navy."

"An Admiral? And I'm the JAG?" Harm looked over to the couch. Much
to his horror, there he was asleep, on the same couch, with a
different book and a stiffer drink than beer on the table. His hair
was graying and some of his muscle tone was gone. But other than
that, the scene looked just as it had this evening.

"You'd think a big, fancy Admiral would have someplace special to be
on Christmas Eve...what a pity."

Harm rolled his eyes. "Not you too, dad."

"Sorry. Just following orders."

"What makes you think in fifteen years I won't be spending the
holiday with anyone?"

"Well, all the people on your staff had other plans. Plans that
didn't include you. The older ones are married with children, and
the younger ones went home to their families."

"And you're saying in fifteen years I won't have a family?"

"I'm saying you're not exactly making any progress toward that end.
You've got a ring on your left hand, but that Academy ring isn't
quite a wedding band."

"Y'know, I get enough of this from Mom."

"Yeah. Can you imagine? Your parents wanting you to be happy? What
is the world coming to?"

"And just who do you expect me to marry? I haven't even been on a
date in over a year. Not since Renee."

"And thank you-know-who for that. She was a knockout son, but
honestly. And to think we had to contend with her *and* that Brumby
guy at the same time. Talk about double duty. You should thank your
lucky stars you had so many people in your corner. Mic was still
ready to go through with that wedding. Act now, ask questions later,
that was his way. Luckily, Diane and I managed to plant enough doubt
in his mind."

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"Nope. All true."

"You and Diane...and Brumby."

Harm Sr. smiled. "We take our jobs very seriously."

"And part of your job is nagging me about a wife and kids?"

"Not officially. I do have *some* freedom."

"Great," he said sarcastically.

"All right. Let's leave the old, grumpy Admiral to his exciting
Christmas nap. We have one more appointment."

"And where's that?"

"Fairfax, Virginia. The home of retired Marine Colonel Sarah
Mackenzie.

"Retired?" Harm asked. "She gave up her commission?"

"Yes. She does pro-bono legal work for abused children at the
halfway house. She loves every minute of it. And she's helped so
many scared, confused kids."

"And she does it for free?"

"Uh huh. Her husband makes more than enough to support the family,
and she has much more time to be with their children."

"Husband? Children? Who-"

"Relax Harm. You'll see."

The two men observed the scene in front of them. Harm noticed Mac's
hair was longer than he'd ever seen it, as she was no longer bound to
wear it short. And she was as beautiful as ever. She was sitting in
a plush chair, taking pictures of two very excited children amidst a
heap of discarded wrapping paper.

A girl who looked to be about twelve years old was thrilled about her
first makeup kit. She's the spitting image of Mac, Harm thought.
Dark hair and eyes that could see right into your soul. There was a
boy, too. Harm guessed he was around eight. He ran around the room
with his new hockey stick, passing an imaginary puck. In a holder on
the table was a puck, but it wasn't for playing with. His father had
bought it as a special present, signed by his son's favorite player.

Mac's husband was behind their large Christmas tree, trying to fix a
light that wasn't blinking. Harm could only make out his left side,
as the rest was hidden by the tree. There was a plate of homemade
cookies on the table, with four mugs of hot chocolate to go with
them. Four stockings hung near the fireplace, but from
where Mac was seated, she obscured Harm's view of her husband's
name.

"Look at her. I've never seen her so happy. God, she's beaming."
He shook his head in disbelief. "She's so beautiful."

His father smiled. "Yes, she is."

"But who's that with her?" Harm asked. "I can't make out his face."

"Only you can answer that question. Tell me, son, who do you want it
to be?"

His father's question resonated in his mind as he jolted awake, for
real this time. The memories washed over him, of himself, happy as a
child. Of Bud and Harriet adding to their family. Of Luke, Annie,
and Josh, cherishing every moment they had in their short time
together. Of Mac. Of himself, alone.

His father was right, he did know the answer. And it was only 23:00,
the answer was probably still awake. He picked up the phone and hit
the first speed dial.

"Hello?" came the voice that was like cool water to his thirsty heart.

"Hey Mac, what are you up to?"

"Wallowing in sappy Christmas movies and virgin eggnog."

"You want some company? I've got some candy canes with your name on
them."

"What? Where are you? What happened to your plans?"

"Flight got canceled. Icy runways."

"In....California?"

"Look, never mind that. It's almost midnight, and nobody should be
alone on Christmas. So what do you say?"

"Okay sailor. But I don't want to scare you. Give me a few minutes
to take down the mistletoe."

"No," Harm insisted. "Please, leave it up."


~The End~