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Week
1: Monday
08:20
am
Sarah MacKenzie’s Apartment
Number
201, The Washington
The weekend flew by and Monday soon arrived at
Mac’s door, bringing with it an anomalous sense of trepidation and apprehension.
It wasn’t out of the norm to be stepping into a case totally in the dark, but a
sixth sense put her on high alert. It sounded the warning that the next few
weeks would bring about crucial change in her life. She tried to laugh it off,
dismissing such ridiculous notions, but she’d long learnt to trust her
instincts. So, it was with an uncharacteristic amount of nervousness that Mac
got herself ready in the morning.
Today would be the final stages of the casting
process to find that perfect man to be the next Bachelor. Harm would make his
debut appearance, steal everyone’s approval and mysteriously win the final vote.
Webb hadn’t explained what she was meant to be doing there. The last of the
twenty-four Bachelorettes had already been chosen in previous weeks and none of
the women were suppose to meet the final five potential Bachelors. So what
does Webb want me there today for? she wondered.
“Well, Dr MacKenzie, guess we’ll find out soon
enough,” Mac answered herself. Can they get any cornier? She shook her
head, mulling over her alter ego. For the next few weeks, she would assume the illustrious
role of Dr Sarah MacKenzie, renowned eye surgeon. Traveller of the four corners
of the world in aid of the less fortu
Harm on the other hand, had it easy, staying true
to his flyboy self. The women are sure going to have a looong
field day with Harm, she thought warily. What are one’s chances of
dating a real, decent naval ex-fighter pilot-lawyer? Next to
none, according to her own personal experience.
It came down to the foremost nagging question on her mind, how was Harm going
to treat her as one of the Bachelorettes? She didn’t dare delve too deeply into
the vast array of possibilities. Webb had instructed them not to have any
contact from Saturday on wards, so they would be arriving at the production
studios as two separate personalities. Apparently, Harm and the other Bachelor
hopefuls would each be picked up and driven personally by their own chauffeur in
a Mercedes. She’d been told to meet downstairs at oh-eight-forty-five.
“I wonder if they’ll be extending that luxury for
me as well?” Mac mused out loud as she finished
applying a light layer of make-up. She paused to look at the pair of eyes
staring back at her in reflection of the mirror. They were unusually brightened
with uneasy anticipation.
Mac arrived downstairs outside her apartment to
find her surprise driver waiting with the door held open for her on the
passenger side. “Webb,” she greeted cordially.
“Sarah MacKenzie,” he swept an arm grandly at the interiors
for her.
Mac gazed at him suspiciously; Webb seemed to be
enjoying himself way too much. “Nice car” she commented idly, starting the
conversation once he’d seated.
“I know, pity it’s not mine,” he replied
cynically.
“So, what am I doing there today?”
“We’re going to put you in as one of the judges for
the last day of casting.”
Mac’s brow furrowed into a puzzled frown, “but
won’t people get suspicious if I’m one of the judges and then I get chosen as
one of the Bachelorettes?”
“We’ll make sure not to show any footage of you so
no one would know you were one of them other than the judges themselves. But
they’ve all signed strict confidentiality agreements, so unless someone’s willing
to risk a few million dollars in hefty fines, there should be no problems.”
@}->- * @}~>~~~ * @-->-->---
Similarly in another part of DC, Harm had in fact also
been picked up by his own chauffeur in a darkly tinted, Mercedes sports coupe. The
only exception in his case was there was absolutely no friendly chatter. The
driver might as well have worn a t-shirt that emblazoned ‘I’m One of Clayton
Webb’s Men.’ From the black sunglasses and the tightly closed lips to the
expressionless face, to Harm, he screamed foul play. For the millionth time,
Harm wondered if he’d been too rash to throw Mac and himself into such a dodgy sounding
investigation. He was distracted from further perturbing feelings however, when
he felt the car pick up speed and manoeuvre smoothly around the traffic.
Wow, this baby purrs even better than my
corvette, Harm admired with typical masculine envy.
Undisclosed
Location
The two hour journey had been surprisingly
interesting with Webb as the driver. Mac had glimpsed for the first time his social
side that’d been finely cultured by his mother. Amazingly, he can actually
be quite charming. She filed the reflections away to purse at a later date.
When they’d first arrived, Webb had furtively slipped away. Everyone else had been
promptly ushered into a spacious conference room which they were now occupying.
No introductions had been made except from Evan Anderson, this year’s host of
the Bachelor. There were nine other judges sitting with Mac separately at the
back of the room. She was the ‘youngest.’ The remaining judging panel was made
up of older women in their mid forties.
At the front, Harm lounged comfortably along with
the other four possible Bachelors. Judging by the looks of their laid back
postures; folded arms, puffed out chests and propped up feet, each person’s confident
they’re going to win. Mac silently sniggered. Pity there’s only enough
room for one inflated ego. And it’s only just enough for Harm alone. The
back of his head tilted around slightly as if he could read her thoughts. Mac
hastily abandoned any more unpleasant thoughts about her partner and turned her
attention back to Evan. After a quick but pleasant, get to know me, he’d launched
straight into the show’s game plans.
“The first series went for a total of four weeks.
Now that it’s a proven hit, the networks are putting big bucks into making an
even more lavish show. This time around, it’s going to run for eight, maybe
nine weeks.”
“Yea, so you get more time to get to know your women”
chipped in another assistant with a large grin. The five men broke out in expected,
loud laughter. Mac noticed Harm’s shoulder shake with what she could only
assume to be amusement at the news.
“Not only that,” Evan looked around smiling
broadly. “They’re taking the show on the road. So whichever one of you lucky
bastards will not only get to romance the ladies in the good ol’ US of A, but also the streets of Europe, Asia, the Caribbean
Islands ...” At this, hoots and cheers erupted among the group. There was
amused chuckles and a few shaking heads among the judges.
“Now in a minute, we’re going to let you guys out
to socialise with each other. There’s plenty of food and drinks so enjoy
yourselves and may the best man win! Don’t forget, the judges will be watching
with sharper, eagle eyes. We’re also going to put together some footage for a
special preview episode.” Evan stood up, concluding the briefing with a knowing
wink. “So make good use of the practice and when you step through that door,
it’s time to turn on the charm!”
Well that was the most useless piece of advice
Harm’s ever received,
Mac thought to herself sarcastically. His charm automatically switches on to full throttle whenever
a good looking blonde of the opposite sex comes within ten feet.
@}->- * @}~>~~~ * @-->-->---
All five Bachelor try-outs were gathered together
in a loose circle, no doubt trading secrets, parring oversized egos and
basically socializing as mere males do.
Following in the footsteps of the other judges, Mac
turned her full attention to the group, pretending to take down a few notes. These
men were without question, a cross section of
Ken was … well, Barbie’s playmate. His parents had
obviously been able to foretell the future knowing they had a winner on their
hands and adequately named their son as so. With his classic good looks, he was
an uncanny six foot six inches replica of the Barbie doll. His flawless
features was a combi
Bachelor hopeful number two was an average height,
conservatively dressed, lanky brunette. James Dean. Mac bit her lip to keep
from laughing out loud. Gee, where do they get these people from? Some kind of manufactured factory? Luckily, the
guy appeared to have a good sense of humour. Otherwise, Mac suspected, he
would’ve long been driven to insanity by the image comparisons and cracks about
his name.
Aaron was a quiet Asian-American. If they were
really in the process of an un-staged casting, she wouldn’t have minded
choosing him as the next Bachelor. He possessed a genuine charismatic aura that
spoke of intrigue and excitement.
However, her first choice (if Harm wasn’t in the
picture) would go to Damien. Females young and old were sure to latch on to
this one. The man was … a hunk, for lack of a better word. Mac trailed her eyes
down the entire package.
Why couldn’t I have met guys like him ten years
ago? She
was pulled out her daydreams when the real deal strolled over. She felt her
ears heat up. What the heck’s wrong with you, you’re letting this whole
thing get to your head already. You haven’t drooled over a guy since eighth grade!
“Hi, I’m Damien.” He flashed her a wide smile that could’ve rivalled Harm’s flyboy grin
any day.
“Sarah MacKenzie” Mac slipped on what she hoped
was a relaxed, casual smile.
“Sarah,”
he repeated with a delighted beam, as if her name was some kind of rare treat. “It
would be my greatest pleasure if I ever had the chance to date a beautiful lady
like yourself.”
Mac found herself
blushing and flattered. Ok, so it wouldn’t hurt to indulge in fantasies once in
a long while. Compliments from a man of his looks and age were a dime a dozen. He
probably didn’t guess she was at least a good six or seven
years older. Like an anti-charm, Harm appeared at her side. He stood close
a little too possessively for two people who hadn’t supposedly met.
“I didn’t know we were allowed to directly sway the
judges in our favour” he fixed Damien a joking sceptical look.
“Well, I guess it’s your turn my friend” Damien
raised his glass to Mac, giving her an extra smile and wandered off.
Mac turned to Harm keeping her face neutral, but
pouring the accusation into her voice. “Just what exactly was that?”
Harm was saved by the bell, or rather a
wiry man with a large camera. “Oi, look here this
way. Publicity shots.” He stated bluntly; camera poised, pointedly waiting for
Harm to strike a pose.
Mac took two steps aside and watched as Harm
smiled for the camera. Like she’d learnt in previous encounters, he was a
“Ok now, a few shots, top four shirt buttons
undone,” the man instructed impatiently.
“Ahh … I don’t think
that’s necessary,” Harm refused politely.
“Look, lover boy,” camera-man growled. “We ain’t
gonna have you stuck all prime and proper. The majority of the female audience
want a lot of flesh and what the viewers want, the viewers get. Got it?”
Mac saw Harm scowl faintly at the man’s attitude
and then he relented, his hand moving to his shirt. She caught sight of chest
hair before realising she was staring and quickly glanced away embarrassed.
Unknown camera-man took a few more shots and
stalked off without another word.
Before she could formulate a teasing remark, a man
with a patch of fine white hair approached them. “Ahh,
I see you’ve met Mad Max he’s a tad … eccentric.”
“I can tell,” Harm replied dryly, re-buttoning his
shirt.
“Mad Max?” Mac inquired curiously.
The man chuckled loudly, “Yea, Max Williamson.
Well known as Mad Max around here. He might be slightly off the scale, but he’s
the best darn cinematographer this side of town.” He extended his hand, “I’m Dan
Bradford the producer, welcome to the show.”
Harm and Mac returned his handshake and made
introductions with concealed, genuine surprise. Upon first impression, he had their
instant approval. Both had automatically put the producer on top of the list of
suspects in whatever it was that Webb was investigating. But it seemed like he
was a decent bloke.
“You’re got good potential Harm,” Dan clapped him
on the back and with a nod at Mac, he moved on around the room.
Not to look suspicious by spending too much time
standing together, Mac walked off after darting Harm a dark, veiled look that she
knew only he could read. Reminding him she hadn’t forgotten about Damien. She
rejoined the group of other judges, just in time to catch the blatant innuendoes
of their tête-à-tête.
“… cute butts. You get my drift?” a
woman who looked like a mother of two, wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Oh yea, I’m positively swept away by the current, Mac responded in her mind
wryly. She joined in feebly at the chorus of giggles and mirthful laughter, not
needing to hear the punch line to grasp the suggestive overtones.
At the end of the day, there was no surprise for some
of course, when the next Bachelor was announced. Even if there had been no set
up, Harm would’ve still won by a long mile. After all, according to all the
judges, he had the unanimous vote for ‘cutest butt.’
@}->- * @}~>~~~ * @-->-->---
Stay tuned for the next
instalment when Harm’s adventure as the Bachelor begins!