Part One
Author: AD <adage37@mindspring.com>
Rating: PG
Category: Humor (hopefully)
Pairing: Webb/Mac
Spoilers: Everything up to “A Merry Little Christmas”
Disclaimer: Apologies to Viacom, Paramount & Belisarius Productions for borrowing some JAG characters and taking them in a really different direction. Okay, let’s be honest---JAG would never go in this direction.
Summary: See the “Introduction” (‘cause I’m too lazy to write a back-story chapter)
Author's Note: After my umpteenth pregnancy complaint, Anne suggested I pour all of my frustrations into some Webb/Mac fic. After all, it would be selfish not to spread the ‘joy’ <vbeg>…
*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~INTRODUCTION*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*
Let’s say that the date Mac and Webb shared on Christmas Eve resulted in a romantic proposal. Let’s go further and assume that Mac said “yes.” Naturally, (being over-achievers) the happy couple celebrated in a very “productive” fashion. Sounds great, huh? I mean, WE always knew they were meant for one another, right? There’s just one small problem (other than the obvious): Webb’s been on a month-long op and Mac hasn’t been able to tell him about the belated Christmas gift. Sound like a familiar premise? Probably---but why not experience the whole nine yards, uh, months courtesy of Webb and Mac?
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JANUARY 30, 2004
JAG HEADQUARTERS
FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA
Petty Officer Jennifer Coates quickly placed the caller on hold and buzzed the Admiral’s office.
“What is it, Coates?” the Admiral growled.
“Sir, there’s a call on line two for---,” she began, only to have the Admiral cut her off .
”Take a message, Petty Officer. We’re in the middle of a meeting.”
“But, sir,” Coates persisted, “I really think the---“
Admiral AJ Chegwidden slammed his pen down on the desk and leaned into the intercom, “Take a message, Coates.”
“But the---“
Jennifer knew what was coming, but she still winced a little. “Petty Officer, that is an order, not a request!”
Defeated for the moment, Jennifer’s shoulders stiffened as she accepted her orders, “Aye, aye, sir. I’ll take a message.”
Releasing a deep breath, she punched in line two. “Mr. Webb? I’m sorry sir, but the Colonel is in a meeting with Admiral Chegwidden right now. May I take a message?”
Jennifer listened for a moment and reflexively shook her head, “No, sir. The Admiral was quite specific, sir.”
A laugh escaped the Petty Officer at Mr. Webb’s next remark, but she dutifully documented the call on the message pad. “Yes, sir, I’ve got it. Look Mr. Webb, if you could just give her ten more minutes, I’m sure---I understand, sir. As we speak, sir. I’m so sorry sir---the Colonel will be disappointed not to—yes sir. I’ll tell her, word-for-word---I promise, sir---and…good luck, sir!”
Jennifer finished recording the message and re-read it just to make certain she’d gotten down every word. No sooner had she torn off the yellow copy for the Colonel, than the Admiral’s door swung open. Mac preceded the Admiral out of his office as he continued with his instructions.
“And Mac, you’ll prosecute. No deals, no pleas. Nail the bastard.”
“Yes, sir!” Mac paused in front of Jennifer’s desk and turned to face her commanding officer. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
AJ barely glanced at her. “Denied, Colonel. Coates, any reason why Commander Turner exempted himself from the morning brief?” AJ had already dismissed the Colonel and was staring down at his administrative assistant.
“No, sir. I mean yes, sir.” Jennifer belatedly stood at attention, “He hasn’t arrived yet, sir.”
“Then find him, Petty Officer. Hell, send out the MPs if you have to, but I want the Commander in my office within the next ten minutes.”
“Aye, aye, sir!” There was a slight pause before Jennifer asked, “Do you really want him arrested, sir?”
Mac shot Jennifer a silent warning, but the Petty Officer stared straight ahead, awaiting the Admiral’s clarification.
“Hell no, I don’t want him arrested---I want him in my office! Think you can handle that, Petty Officer?”
“Yes, sir! Right away, sir,” Coates snapped out.
AJ stared at his yeoman for a moment, unsure why he suddenly felt he owed her an apology. Abruptly dismissing that notion, he gave both women an irritated glare and stalked back into his office.
Mac slowly released the breath she’d been holding. “Jennifer, one of these days you’re going to….”
“Yes ma’am.” Jennifer relaxed her stance and sank back into her chair.
Mac walked around the desk and placed a comforting hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “Is something wrong, Jennifer?”
Jennifer heaved a big sigh. “You don’t want to know, ma’am.”
Leaning against the corner of the desk, Mac offered, “I’m not so sure about that Jennifer. Try me.”
As though the floodgates had been released, the Petty Officer leaned forward, anguish on her face. “Well, ma’am, it’s just so unfair.”
Jennifer looked towards the Admiral’s door and lowered her voice. “While Dr. Cavanaugh was in Italy, she decided to introduce herself to the Admiral’s daughter. My guess is she wanted to avoid the wicked stepmother preconception or something. Second wives often perceive a problem on the part of---“
“Whoa, Jennifer,” Mac interrupted, “Taking another psych class this semester?”
“Why yes ma’am,” Jennifer smiled, pleased at the Colonel’s interest. “It’s quite interesting really. You see…”
The Colonel cut her off again by placing a hand on her arm. “I’m sure it’s quite enlightening Jennifer, but if you don’t mind….you were, uh, saying something about Meredith?” Mac reminded her.
The pinched look returned to the Petty Officer’s face. “Yes ma’am. About two weeks ago Dr. Cavanaugh called here to get the address and phone number of the Admiral’s daughter.”
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Mac rationalized. “The Admiral’s daughter is an extremely well-adjusted young woman. She and Meredith should get along very nicely. They both actually have a lot in common.”
Coates was shaking her head. “No ma’am, you don’t understand. The Admiral was out of the office when she called. He was testifying before the Senate Sub-Committee with Lieutenant Roberts---remember?”
Mac rubbed her forehead. “So the Admiral was out. She probably caught up with him later.” Mac stepped away from the desk and smoothed down her uniform skirt, already dismissing the yeoman’s concerns. “Don’t worry about it, Jennifer.”
“I have to worry about it, Colonel. I—I--,” Coates was beginning to tear up, “I’ve ruined the Admiral’s life.”
At this dramatic pronouncement, Mac forgot the slight nausea she was fighting and fully focused on the hapless yeoman. “Oh, come on Jennifer. It can’t be that bad. How exactly did you ruin the Admiral’s life,” Mac scoffed.
Coates dabbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, irritated at her emotional display. Straightening her shoulders, she looked up at Mac, searching for some understanding. “Well, ma’am, you know how long those hearings last?”
Mac nodded her head.
“Well, I know it’s against regulations, but rather than make Dr. Cavanaugh wait---“
“You accessed the information from the Naval database,” Mac concluded.
It was Coates’ turn to nod her head. “Yes, ma’am. I just looked up the contact data on his service record and gave it to her. After all, she is his fiancée, right Colonel?”
“Well, technically---uh, I wouldn’t worry about it Coates. If Francesca and Meredith didn’t hit it off, there might be a bit of awkwardness, but I don’t think you ruined the Admiral’s life,” Mac assured her.
“Francesca, ma’am?” Jennifer gave Mac an inquiring look, but was anxious to conclude her confession. “All I know is that by the time Dr. Cavanaugh was on her way back to the States, she wasn’t answering any of the Admiral’s calls. Then, this morning, she sent back the Admiral’s engagement ring---by courier.”
“Wait! Back up Jennifer,” Mac held up a hand, thinking quickly. Something wasn’t adding up. “You did say you gave her *Francesca’s* contact information, didn’t you? Francesca Paretti?” Mac watched Jennifer very carefully, a gnawing suspicion forming in the pit of her roiling stomach.
Coates, her brow wrinkled in thought, was slow to answer. “Paretti, yes---but the first name wasn’t Francesca.”
“Oh, Jennifer!” Her suspicion practically confirmed, Mac’s hand covered her mouth and she shook her head in disbelief. “You gave Meredith his ex-wife’s contact information?”
Jennifer leaned forward in the chair, realization dawning in her eyes. “Worse, ma’am,” Jennifer croaked out. With growing horror, the miserable Petty Officer made a further revelation, “I gave her street-by-street directions from the on-line Italian Trip Quest directory.”
Mac winced in commiseration. Knowing there was more to the story, Mac was about to dig for more details when the Admiral voice interrupted them.
“Coates,” an annoyed voice boomed from the intercom, “what’s the status on Turner?”
Knowing any further interrogation would have to wait, Mac stood up to leave. Mac was almost to the bullpen when she noticed Jennifer frantically waving a yellow note in the air. Placing her hand over the phone’s handset, Coates mouthed ‘from Mr. Webb’ before responding, “I’m on it, sir,” to the Admiral.
Quickly retracing her steps and accepting the slightly rumpled paper, Mac’s heart was racing. Scanning the note, she entered her office and picked up the phone. Although she’d never called this particular number, Webb had asked her to memorize it. Now, as she punched in the last digit, Mac wondered if this current situation could be considered an emergency.
As she waited for the call to connect, she read the message once again. This time a wide grin reluctantly emerged as she pressed the rumpled paper against her still-flat tummy. Yes, it was definitely an emergency.
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JANUARY 30, 2004
UNIDENTIFIED MILITARY CARGO TRANSPORT
SOMEWHERE OVER THE ARABIAN PENINSULA
Clayton Webb brushed the damp hair off of his forehead and studied the grit that remained on his hand. Damned sand was everywhere, he thought. Reaching into a well-worn knapsack, he located a soft plastic packet and pulled out a thin white square of cloth. As he rubbed it over his face, the moist towelette cooled his overheated skin. Taking out his cell phone and sidearm, he gave them a thorough swipe as well.
Carefully re-folding the cloth, he returned it to the zip-lock bag. Over the past four weeks, Webb had discovered the luxury of the pre-moistened cloths. That they were worth their weight in gold to the coalition forces had made his cover that much more appropriate. Entering a war zone as an Allied Hygiene® distributor had allowed him to fly in with over twenty thousand travel-paks of Wet Wipes. Webb was pleased to note that at least this cover had brought some small measure of comfort to the troops.
Looking out over the desolate land they’d just left, Webb considered his mission and felt no remorse. He’d done what had to be done. Finding that sadistic bastard had been a coup for the troops; interrogating him had fallen to his team of Company agents. The bastard had been an old hand at stonewalling their interview methods. They’d finally prevailed after weeks of frustration---all of it legally and humanely obtained. Sarah would be proud of him.
Webb stared pensively at the cell phone still in his hand. Even on the remote chance that he could get a satellite connection to Virginia, he’d never be able to hear her over the engines. His last best chance had been on the airstrip.
Pocketing the phone, Webb was mildly surprised that Sarah had been trying to reach him throughout the past week. After all, she had encouraged him to take this assignment---had said that she knew he needed to get back into the thick of things. He hadn’t been able to tell her what the op would entail, how long it would take, or the historical significance it would have. Hell, he still couldn’t tell her.
Despite his success, this assignment had seemed to take an eternity. He’d missed Sarah and the good old US of A. Many times over the past week he had been tempted to contact Sarah, just to hear her voice, but the security measures had been top-level and restrictive. Even his secretary hadn’t been able to contact him until this morning.
It was from his secretary that he’d gotten the delayed messages from Sarah. All four had simply said “Contact Me ASAP---I don’t care how.” His immediate response was to go ahead and book a call. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten the time difference and satellite links. By the time his call had gone through, she’d been in a meeting at JAG Ops.
As Webb stared out at the passing landscape, he thought about the message he’d finally dictated to AJ’s yeoman. Would Sarah understand it? It was difficult for a man to put his heart and soul into a brief message re-routed half-way around the world.
Chuckling at his own frustration, Webb spent the remainder of his air time outlining the required action reports and wondering if Sarah had changed her mind about marrying him.
~~TO BE CONTINUED ~~