Wreck Of The Day [JAG][chapter six]
CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO - CHAPTER THREE - CHAPTER FOUR - CHAPTER FIVE
I have written over twelve thousand words of this thing and I'm barely started. I'm afraid you're stuck with me a while yet! Okay, so, chapter six: I've no idea whether Red would be allowed to sit in the legal office. Or whether there'd be a bunk in there. But, y'know - this is my fic, and in my fic - there is.
I own Red, I own Sam, I own... Pinky and several other people. Everyone else (JAG itself, Harm, Mac etc) belong to Donald P. Bellisario, and I promise I will give them back when I've finished.
So very many thanks to delgaserasca, without whom this fanfic would likely be full of horrible grammatical errors. Also, thanks to sepiaxtoned - who is in love with Sam almost as much as I am. Love you, girl!
WRECK OF THE DAY.
(six)
---
“Damnit, my pen’s out of ink,” Harm announced bitterly. Across the room, Sam finished filling out the form he was working on and tossed his pen to Harm.
“Excuse you,” Red glared as it hit her on its way. She sat on the floor in the middle of the legal office, tearing shreds off pieces of paper and folding them intricately. Harm reached down to pick up the pen and grinned widely.
“Thanks, Chopper.”
Red scowled and sat forward, her too-long-for-comfort fringe falling into her eyes. She blew it away, only for it to fall again, and Sam to bite his lip in a vain attempt not to laugh at his sister.
“Sorry!” Red gasped, “My arm slipped!” She hid a grin as an expertly folded paper aeroplane sailed through the air and came to a stop between Sam’s eyes.
“Red, don’t you have someone else to bug?”
“Don’t you have some girl to be scaring away from the entire male population?” Red raised an eyebrow in retaliation.
“Can you two stop bickering?” Harm interjected, not looking up from his report. “And can one of you find Mac, please?”
“He misses his girlfriend,” Red whispered conversationally to her brother, just loud enough for Harm to hear. Sam grinned wickedly as Red left the office, his happiness increased at the sound of his sister’s mischievous cackle; although he wouldn’t admit it - at least, not to her face - he missed her fiercely.
“Not my girlfriend,” Harm called, still not looking up.
“Could have fooled me,” Sam grinned at the back of his friend’s head.
“Implying what, exactly?” Harm stopped writing and spun around in his seat.
“Well, you spend your breaks with her - you eat lunch with her every day-“
“I eat lunch with you every day, too - does that make you my boyfriend?” Harm forced a grin before turning back to his paperwork.
Sam picked up his sister’s paper plane and launched it at his friend. It flew across the room, bringing Mac to an abrupt halt as it passed her.
“Thanks, I think…”
“Mac, could I talk to you?”
“Here?”
Harm looked at Sam, sprawled across the bed, signing furiously to his sister. Harm smiled; Sam had tried to teach him to sign once, but Harm couldn’t grasp it. Sam and Red, however, grew up signing and talking, living with their parents and deaf grandmother.
“Not here.” Shuffling his papers into a folder, he picked it up and led Mac out of the room, holding her elbow as they walked. They walked in silence up to the fantail, relieved to find it empty. The weather was taking a turn for the worse; grey clouds loomed overhead, darker ones moving in from the horizon. They were still talking, discussing her statement and the case itself, an hour later, when the first drops of rain began to fall.
///
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Red lay on the top bunk, leaning down to talk to her brother.
“Really?”
“No, I want to know why fairies are always pink. Of course, really.”
“I guess the case… Mac’s statement…”
“So he’s not declaring his undying love for her?” Red asked dramatically, throwing her arms out.
“He got kinda antsy when the word ‘girlfriend’ came up.”
“He seeing someone?”
“Not that I know of. Of course, I’m only one of his oldest friends…”
“Chopper, you haven’t spoken to him in years! Until you got yourself stationed at JAG, that is…”
“And I’ve been there a while-“
“Two weeks-“
“-and I don’t think he’s seeing anyone.”
“And Mac?”
“Nope. There is one guy who… I’ll be right back!” Sam leapt up, whacking his head lightly on the top bunk as he did so. “Ow. I’ll be back!”
Red watched, bewildered - and more than a little curious. She jumped down from the bunk and headed quietly for the phones. The deck housing the phones - among other things to remind the sailors of home - was by no means her favourite deck; always crowded, she always had to wait to use the phone. She was pleasantly surprised, however, to find the deck relatively empty. Lifting the heavy receiver from its cradle, Red punched in a familiar number.
“Mom?”
///
Harm was facing the door with his elbows on the barrier behind him when Sam threw it open, breathing heavily.
“Can this wait, Chopper?”
Mac had been facing the ocean; she spun around when she heard the door open.
“No, it can’t. Harm, I need to talk to you right now.” Harm looked at Mac, who said nothing. Sam sighed impatiently - he could tell they were having another ‘silent conversation’; sometimes he’d swear they were connected telepathically. Harm nodded and walked through the door with Sam.
“Brumby,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Brumby! Mac turned him down in Sydney, right? Is he the sort of guy to turn stalker on her?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him… but I don’t think he’s a bad guy, Chopper. I don’t think he’d rig the plane just to kill Mac! Hell, I don’t think he’d kill her at all - he loves her.”
“Supposedly. Or suppose he was sent to kill Mac any way he can?”
Harm raised an eyebrow sceptically. “You’ve been talking to your sister too much.”
“Actually, she was the one who made me think of Brumby…”
“What?” Harm all but yelled. “What are you doing talking to her about the case?”
“Christ, Hammer - keep your hair on. She was grilling me for information about you and Mac, asked if either of you were involved with someone else. I was telling her no when it came to me - she’s not involved with Brumby, and he’s not happy about that.”
“I don’t think Brumby’s it, Sam.”
“So what are you thinking?”
“That the terrorism rumour is one we need to look into.”
“Who, on that plane, could they possibly want to blow up?” Sam asked, not convinced that terrorism was the answer.
“Or, who on the ship?”
“Rigging the plane to explode is gonna give a couple of sailors a few cuts and bruises if they’re thrown to the deck. I saw the plane too, Hammer. That would not have blown up this carrier.”
“So what if it was someone on the plane? Terrorists will do anything just to kill a few people.”
“They’d have to be able to have a lot more people injured than they had there, before they’d do anything.”
“What?”
“You know what I mean, Hammer.”
“I just don’t think it’s Brumby, that’s all.” They’d walked down from the fantail as they talked, and were nearing the Bridge. “We need to take another look at that plane, though.”
“What do you expect to find, Harm?”
Harm stopped walking and looked at his friend. “I don’t know. I don’t want to find anything.”
They walked down to the hangar deck in silence, each silently repeating the same mantra: it was just a freak accident. No foul play involved.
///
“There’s no way Brumby could have done this. He had less than four hours to plan and execute - and he didn’t leave the office until two hours before the plane left Virginia.”
“So, maybe he had an accomplice?”
“Sam, you’re grasping at straws!” Harm almost yelled. “Why do you want this to be Brumby?”
“Because I don’t want it to be terrorism.”
“Right now, it’s the only explanation we have. Someone rigged the plane to explode upon landing purely to kill whoever was on board, and on the deck in the way at the time.”
“Who? Why?”
“They’re terrorists, Sam. Do they need a reason?”
“Do you want me to actually answer that?”
“How could Brumby have pulled this off? More to the point, why?”
“How? Maybe he had an accomplice. Why? Mac turned him down - if he can’t have her, nobody can.”
“I don’t think that’s it.”
“Why, he doesn’t seem like the stalker type? Looks, deceiving - ring any bells?”
Harm sighed, defeated. Sam was right - the Brumby theory was more likely, especially after what had happened in Sydney. For Mac’s sake, he hoped that Sam was wrong.
/// /// ///
TO BE CONTINUED.
I have written over twelve thousand words of this thing and I'm barely started. I'm afraid you're stuck with me a while yet! Okay, so, chapter six: I've no idea whether Red would be allowed to sit in the legal office. Or whether there'd be a bunk in there. But, y'know - this is my fic, and in my fic - there is.
I own Red, I own Sam, I own... Pinky and several other people. Everyone else (JAG itself, Harm, Mac etc) belong to Donald P. Bellisario, and I promise I will give them back when I've finished.
So very many thanks to delgaserasca, without whom this fanfic would likely be full of horrible grammatical errors. Also, thanks to sepiaxtoned - who is in love with Sam almost as much as I am. Love you, girl!
WRECK OF THE DAY.
(six)
---
“Damnit, my pen’s out of ink,” Harm announced bitterly. Across the room, Sam finished filling out the form he was working on and tossed his pen to Harm.
“Excuse you,” Red glared as it hit her on its way. She sat on the floor in the middle of the legal office, tearing shreds off pieces of paper and folding them intricately. Harm reached down to pick up the pen and grinned widely.
“Thanks, Chopper.”
Red scowled and sat forward, her too-long-for-comfort fringe falling into her eyes. She blew it away, only for it to fall again, and Sam to bite his lip in a vain attempt not to laugh at his sister.
“Sorry!” Red gasped, “My arm slipped!” She hid a grin as an expertly folded paper aeroplane sailed through the air and came to a stop between Sam’s eyes.
“Red, don’t you have someone else to bug?”
“Don’t you have some girl to be scaring away from the entire male population?” Red raised an eyebrow in retaliation.
“Can you two stop bickering?” Harm interjected, not looking up from his report. “And can one of you find Mac, please?”
“He misses his girlfriend,” Red whispered conversationally to her brother, just loud enough for Harm to hear. Sam grinned wickedly as Red left the office, his happiness increased at the sound of his sister’s mischievous cackle; although he wouldn’t admit it - at least, not to her face - he missed her fiercely.
“Not my girlfriend,” Harm called, still not looking up.
“Could have fooled me,” Sam grinned at the back of his friend’s head.
“Implying what, exactly?” Harm stopped writing and spun around in his seat.
“Well, you spend your breaks with her - you eat lunch with her every day-“
“I eat lunch with you every day, too - does that make you my boyfriend?” Harm forced a grin before turning back to his paperwork.
Sam picked up his sister’s paper plane and launched it at his friend. It flew across the room, bringing Mac to an abrupt halt as it passed her.
“Thanks, I think…”
“Mac, could I talk to you?”
“Here?”
Harm looked at Sam, sprawled across the bed, signing furiously to his sister. Harm smiled; Sam had tried to teach him to sign once, but Harm couldn’t grasp it. Sam and Red, however, grew up signing and talking, living with their parents and deaf grandmother.
“Not here.” Shuffling his papers into a folder, he picked it up and led Mac out of the room, holding her elbow as they walked. They walked in silence up to the fantail, relieved to find it empty. The weather was taking a turn for the worse; grey clouds loomed overhead, darker ones moving in from the horizon. They were still talking, discussing her statement and the case itself, an hour later, when the first drops of rain began to fall.
///
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Red lay on the top bunk, leaning down to talk to her brother.
“Really?”
“No, I want to know why fairies are always pink. Of course, really.”
“I guess the case… Mac’s statement…”
“So he’s not declaring his undying love for her?” Red asked dramatically, throwing her arms out.
“He got kinda antsy when the word ‘girlfriend’ came up.”
“He seeing someone?”
“Not that I know of. Of course, I’m only one of his oldest friends…”
“Chopper, you haven’t spoken to him in years! Until you got yourself stationed at JAG, that is…”
“And I’ve been there a while-“
“Two weeks-“
“-and I don’t think he’s seeing anyone.”
“And Mac?”
“Nope. There is one guy who… I’ll be right back!” Sam leapt up, whacking his head lightly on the top bunk as he did so. “Ow. I’ll be back!”
Red watched, bewildered - and more than a little curious. She jumped down from the bunk and headed quietly for the phones. The deck housing the phones - among other things to remind the sailors of home - was by no means her favourite deck; always crowded, she always had to wait to use the phone. She was pleasantly surprised, however, to find the deck relatively empty. Lifting the heavy receiver from its cradle, Red punched in a familiar number.
“Mom?”
///
Harm was facing the door with his elbows on the barrier behind him when Sam threw it open, breathing heavily.
“Can this wait, Chopper?”
Mac had been facing the ocean; she spun around when she heard the door open.
“No, it can’t. Harm, I need to talk to you right now.” Harm looked at Mac, who said nothing. Sam sighed impatiently - he could tell they were having another ‘silent conversation’; sometimes he’d swear they were connected telepathically. Harm nodded and walked through the door with Sam.
“Brumby,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Brumby! Mac turned him down in Sydney, right? Is he the sort of guy to turn stalker on her?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him… but I don’t think he’s a bad guy, Chopper. I don’t think he’d rig the plane just to kill Mac! Hell, I don’t think he’d kill her at all - he loves her.”
“Supposedly. Or suppose he was sent to kill Mac any way he can?”
Harm raised an eyebrow sceptically. “You’ve been talking to your sister too much.”
“Actually, she was the one who made me think of Brumby…”
“What?” Harm all but yelled. “What are you doing talking to her about the case?”
“Christ, Hammer - keep your hair on. She was grilling me for information about you and Mac, asked if either of you were involved with someone else. I was telling her no when it came to me - she’s not involved with Brumby, and he’s not happy about that.”
“I don’t think Brumby’s it, Sam.”
“So what are you thinking?”
“That the terrorism rumour is one we need to look into.”
“Who, on that plane, could they possibly want to blow up?” Sam asked, not convinced that terrorism was the answer.
“Or, who on the ship?”
“Rigging the plane to explode is gonna give a couple of sailors a few cuts and bruises if they’re thrown to the deck. I saw the plane too, Hammer. That would not have blown up this carrier.”
“So what if it was someone on the plane? Terrorists will do anything just to kill a few people.”
“They’d have to be able to have a lot more people injured than they had there, before they’d do anything.”
“What?”
“You know what I mean, Hammer.”
“I just don’t think it’s Brumby, that’s all.” They’d walked down from the fantail as they talked, and were nearing the Bridge. “We need to take another look at that plane, though.”
“What do you expect to find, Harm?”
Harm stopped walking and looked at his friend. “I don’t know. I don’t want to find anything.”
They walked down to the hangar deck in silence, each silently repeating the same mantra: it was just a freak accident. No foul play involved.
///
“There’s no way Brumby could have done this. He had less than four hours to plan and execute - and he didn’t leave the office until two hours before the plane left Virginia.”
“So, maybe he had an accomplice?”
“Sam, you’re grasping at straws!” Harm almost yelled. “Why do you want this to be Brumby?”
“Because I don’t want it to be terrorism.”
“Right now, it’s the only explanation we have. Someone rigged the plane to explode upon landing purely to kill whoever was on board, and on the deck in the way at the time.”
“Who? Why?”
“They’re terrorists, Sam. Do they need a reason?”
“Do you want me to actually answer that?”
“How could Brumby have pulled this off? More to the point, why?”
“How? Maybe he had an accomplice. Why? Mac turned him down - if he can’t have her, nobody can.”
“I don’t think that’s it.”
“Why, he doesn’t seem like the stalker type? Looks, deceiving - ring any bells?”
Harm sighed, defeated. Sam was right - the Brumby theory was more likely, especially after what had happened in Sydney. For Mac’s sake, he hoped that Sam was wrong.
/// /// ///
TO BE CONTINUED.