Author: NancyT
Disclaimer: Don't own JAG etc. or reap any financial benefits from
this.
Classification: PG
Category: Angst
Summary: Current season 9. No real spoilers. What could Harm be
thinking?
0500 Zulu (1am)
Outside Harm's apartment
The sky is incredibly clear tonight. The moon has risen and its
brightness competes with the streetlights below giving the rooftop
outside my apartment a surreal quality with all its shadows. The
sounds of a city that never sleeps vibrates off the brick and
concrete buildings surrounding my humble abode. A car screeches and
another honks in response, a distant siren, a boom box competes with
some night club's music and two drunks screaming profanity distract
me temporarily from my ruminations.
I can't sleep. Perhaps it is the adrenaline rush from the mission
still pumping through my body. My new job will never be described as
boring. Everyone back at headquarters was thrilled with our
performance. 'Welcome to the brotherhood!' I tip the bottle to my
lips and drink slowly. Don't want to get in the habit of drinking too
many, too often...alone I remind myself.
That's really the reason I'm still awake. I get home, get my mail,
and check my messages and email. If it weren't for junk mail and
bills delivered to this apartment, it would be assumed vacant.
Haven't heard from Sergei lately either. He has a life and good for
him. I tried to call, but couldn't reach him. Lives in Russia...go
figure.
I've been home less than eight hours and I haven't talked with a soul
unless you count the guy at the deli counter where I ordered my
dinner to go.
I guess Mac knew me more than I knew myself...the Navy is ...was all
I had. Pretty dam pathetic isn't it?
I gambled it all, and I lost.
An old stray tabby cat tightrope walks along the ledge of my rooftop
where I sit with my feet propped. She stops and considers me for a
moment and then decides to stroke my feet that partially block her
path. "I guess we strays have to stick together." I toast my new
friend as she continues stroking my feet and purring.
I have definitely sunk to a new low. I talk to cats. I get up and
find some milk for the cat when my phone rings. This surprises me. It
is too late for one of those harassing telemarketing jobs, so it must
be work.
"Rabb."
"Harm, I hope I didn't call too late."
I smile. "You could never call at the wrong time. How have you been?
I've been thinking of calling you."
"I've been out of the country again, and I just had the sudden urge
to call you. How is your new job?"
"It's going."
"I love you Harm."
"I love you too, Mom."
The end
