Fic: Protect and Survive: Plenty of Ways That You Can Hurt a Man (JAG/Stargate)
Title: Plenty of Ways That You Can Hurt a Man
Fandom: JAG/Stargate
Rating: K+
Genres: gen
Recipient: mackenziesmomma
Prompt: JAG/Pre-SGA. Harmon Rabb, Laura Cadman, Harm has to give a *very* boring law briefing to a class full of future EOD officers, including Laura
Summary: Harmon Rabb is about to find out just how harmless the NROTC midshipmen of George Washington University can be.
A/N: Holiday Fic Request Meme. Sorry, sorrc, sorry that this is so late but pre-Christmas social engagements kept me really busy this week and I just didn't get to write anything :S I hope you still like it :) (and yes, I backdated this so my order isn't destroyed...)
Plenty of Ways That You Can Hurt a Man
“There are plenty of ways that you can hurt a man
and bring him to the ground
you can beat him you can cheat him you can treat him bad
and then leave him when he's down
but I'm ready yes I'm ready for you I'm standing on my own two feet
out of the doorway the bullets rip repeating the sound of the beat.”
Queen, “Another One Bites The Dust”
It’s just a bunch of college students, they said. Nothing to be afraid of, they said. And then Mac went to mock him and Chegwidden reiterated that he really owes the current cadet commander at George Washington University a favor - he’d refrained from pointing out again that it probably should be Chegwidden then who gave the guest lecture for the NROTC midshipmen - and that he shouldn’t get his damn panties in a twist. Easy for the Admiral to say, seeing as he isn’t supposed to teach a couple college seniors the finer points of an officer’s legal responsibilities.
Anyway… be it as it may, the faster he gets done with this, the sooner he can go back to his real job. Right, so… where is that room where he’s supposed to bore the midshipmen out of their wits?
Ah, probably the one with the sign that says Home of the Blow Jobs, seeing as the midshipmen he’s supposed to teach are mostly future EOD and other explosives related personnel. There’s a little window in the door, so he takes a little peek into the room. He can see a couple middies in service dress at their desks. A male mid is slouching with his chin on his chest, so probably sleeping while two female middies are shooting little balls of paper at each other with what looks like makeshift slings. Okay, time to go in and engage the enemy.
The midshipmen of the George Washington University NROTC company. Yes.
Anyway… without knocking, he enters the room and there’s a bit of genuine satisfaction at seeing the middies stop whatever they were doing to scramble into formation and stand at attention next to their desks. Someone prods the sleeping male mid and belatedly, he jumps up to join the rest. After a moment of silence, one of the female middies in USMC service dress takes a step forward and salutes him, saying, “Midshipman First Class Laura Cadman, reporting the class ready for lecture, sir.”
Also, where the fuck is their supervising officer?
Okay, first things first. He returns her salute, then asks, “Beg pardon, Midshipman, but where’s your supervising officer?”
Cadman is still standing at attention and practically bellowing, “Sir, Lieutenant Commander Mackensen is not available due to health reasons. His XO Lieutenant O’Hare is overseeing a mandatory physical training session, sir.”
She’s bullshitting him. She sure as fucking hell is bullshitting him and he can’t prove anything because she’s doing everything textbook Marine. And that’s what’s irking him. Mac would have seen through this and probably called the mid on it but it’s a really nice September day, all sunny and warm and all he wants to do is take Sarah the Plane up into the air. All he wants is to get through this as fast as he can, so he just nods and walks over to the desk, putting his briefcase and his cover away, while Cadman walks back to her seat and he could have sworn that at least two people in the room just snickered under their breath. Wonderful.
Well. He resists the temptation to clear his throat and leans back against the desk. “Alright, Midshipmen, as you probably know, I’m here to teach you about your legal responsibilities as future leaders in the US Navy and US Marine Corps. I’ve been briefed that you already had two lectures on the UCMJ as…” One of the male Navy midshipmen’s hands shoots up and why does he get the feeling that he’s part of a damn college comedy? He nods. “Yes, Midshipman…”
“Collins, sir.” Ah, Collins. Whatever. He encouragingly nods at the kid to go on. “We were wondering, sir, what kind of crime you committed against your commanding officer.”
Uh. What? “Beg your pardon, Midshipman?”
“You see, sir,” that’s Cadman again, sounding much too helpful for him to believe that she has any honest intentions, “our guest lecturer on US Naval history last month was ordered to teach the class because she kept using her CO’s personal coffee supply for the entire office. Apparently, her CO was very fond of his coffee.”
What in God’s name is going on here?
Okay, he’s an officer of the United States Navy, has earned his wings, is a successful trial lawyer and deals with Marines on a daily basis. It really shouldn’t be hard for him to sidestep the landmines these whelps clumsily planted for him. “No crime committed, Midshipman, sorry to disappoint. But since we are on the subject of crimes…” Oh really? “Yes, Midshipman?”
“O’Bannon, sir.” Uh-huh. O’Bannon. And why is she looking at her fellow Marine Cadman before continuing to speak? “Just how realistic of a portrayal of a Navy lawyer’s life is A Few Good Men, sir?”
That damn fucking movie. Again. He wishes he could just ignore this - it’s not the first time he heard this question or the twentieth - and just plow on with his lecture and he knows that he should because apparently, NROTC midshipmen can smell your fear but damn… he just had it with that question. He just barely manages not to sigh or roll his eyes. “Well, what do you think, Midshipman?”
O’Bannon simply rolls her eyes in a “well d’uh” kind of way and he swears there’s just the chewing gum missing and she’d be a perfect picture of a bored high school student. Why are middies always so fucking young? “Is that a trick question, sir?”
He could give her the very helpful hint that you absolutely do not reply with a question to anyone higher in rank than you asking you a question themselves but then again, it’s really not his job to teach those mids some manners. If their commanders don’t do that, they’re gonna have to learn them soon enough. “Just a reminder that it’s always a good idea to think for yourself. So, anyway, if there are no more media related questions, we can…”
“Sir?” Jesus fucking Christ.
It’s that Navy kid that was asleep before he entered the room, looking way too awake now to ignore him. Shit. “What is it, Midshipman?”
“Coreaux, sir.” Ah, good. Mhm. “How many cases have you lost, sir?”
What kind of question is that? Why are they trying to turn this into a Q & A about the profession of a military lawyer? That wasn’t in the fucking brochure.
And why do they all keep sneaking Cadman glances and keep looking at their watches? Something is afoot here because his pilot’s sense for imminent danger just started tingling. But that’s bullshit, right? It’s just a bunch of kids, what kind of damage could they do? “A few, Midshipman. It’s par for the course as a military lawyer that you don’t win every…”
Holy fucking shit what the fucking fuck just fucking happened?
Why the hell was there an explosion behind him, why was he the only one taking cover and what the fuck just happened? Also, where the fucking hell are the mids going? Are they actually climbing out the windows?
Oh, okay, so that’s probably a pretty smart thing to do seeing as the room is filling with smoke from the explosion that happened somewhere behind him and crouches down, grapping his cover and briefcase and crawling towards the nearest window, hoping to God none of the middies has a camera or a mobile phone with a camera installed. Crawling around and vaulting out of the window really didn’t do his service dress much good.
So, whereto… “Ah, good, sir. I was about to go back in to see why it’s taking you so long to get out.” Cadman again with the uber-professional tone and, just for good measure, some totally not genuine sounding “concern”.
“Your selfless effort is duly noted, Midshipman.” He hopes she got his sarcasm. It’s not that he doesn’t think she’s not smart for that but he has known quite a few Marines who were just all too literal for…
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.” His first thought is that his sarcasm actually slid right off her but then he notices the flash of mischief in her eyes and he curses himself for not seeing it earlier.
That was all her doing. Whatever happened here, Cadman sure as hell is the fucking ring leader and he should have her arrested on the spot for disturbance of public order, conduct unbecoming, willful destruction of government property and basically every other offence he can come up with in the next thirty seconds. He really, really should do that. “Midshipman, I hope you are aware of the fact that your little stunt in there could cost you your spot on the program and your scholarship.”
She nods, even bouncing a little on the balls of her feet when she says. “Of course, sir. If that were my doing, I would be absolutely aware of the fact, sir.”
By now, the rest of the middies has gathered around them, trying to look indifferent but very clearly deeply interested in the outcome of this. He’s also beginning to wonder why no one else is evacuating from the building or in fact even reacting to the sound of the explosion and the smoke coming out of the window in any way. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing here, Cadman.”
She doesn’t smirk. Not really, anyway, more like the ghost of a smirk that usually would be there. Dammit. “I’m not playing a game, sir.”
He shakes his head. “Midshipman, you have no idea of the trouble that you’re in.”
“I’m a chemistry major, sir.” What is that supposed to mean? “Last time I checked, innocent until proven guilty still applies to the UCMJ.” Ah, right, that’s what it’s supposed to mean. She thinks just because she’s a chemistry major she’d be proficient enough to cover her tracks well enough so that the NCIS guys won’t find traces leading to her.
Either she’s the boldest and bravest midshipman he ever met or she’s just plain crazy.
Guessing from the reaction of the other mids - and the only reaction from the rest of the building being one of the lecturers next door sticking his head out of the window and retreating back inside with a longsuffering sigh when he sees them standing outside - this isn’t the first time that she pulled something like this. Or at least that something like this happens when she just happens to be around.
He does sigh now, looking up at the clear, sunny sky for a moment and wishing he’d be anywhere but here, arguing with a midshipman too smart for her own good and making a fool out of himself in the process. When he looks at her again, she’s smiling, a real, friendly, open smile without pretense or mocking, saying, “You know, sir… I believe the term is ubi non accusator, ibi non iudex.” Seriously? She’s starting to go lawyer on him? With Latin quotes about lacking plaintiffs and judges and everything? Seriously?
Ah, what the hell.
It’s a fucking sunny September day that’ll most probably be the last of its kind this year and Sarah needs a bit exercise and anyway, sometimes he’s just not in the mood for ruining the careers of bold, brazen and fucking smart Marines over a college prank. He rolls his eyes, mostly at himself. “You know what, Midshipman… let’s call it a day. You all probably have to study your asses off and I still have towers of paperwork on my desk. I’m pretty sure Commander Mackensen and I will be able to find a new date.”
To her credit, she doesn’t outright do a victory dance or pump her fist or anything like that, although she looks very much like she’d love to. Instead, she just nods, saying, “Of course, sir. Studying. We’re big fans of that.”
It nearly makes him snort because he’s pretty sure that studying is the last thing the mids will be doing with their - probably not so - unexpected free afternoon, just like “paperwork” is the last thing he’ll be doing with his. “Thought so. Well, then… dismissed.”
She does another picture perfect salute and, when he returns it, an equally by the book about face before walking off to meet her squad mates, most probably with a big, smug grin on her face. Judging from the way the others are high-fiving and fist-bumping her, it really was her doing and well, he can’t help pulling his phone out while walking away from the middies and dialing Mac’s number.
When she picks up, the first thing she says is, “You’re done early. Did you bore them all to sleep?”
He has to grin, even through her implication of his lectures being plain ass boring and replies, “Let me just say that today I met a future Marine who’ll either give her first commanding officer a serious heart attack or’s gonna go places. Either way, I already pity whoever’s going to have to be her superior.”
“Well,” she says on her end of the line, “how about you tell me over dinner tonight.”
Okay so that wasn’t what he’d planned with his evening and not with that Sarah, but then again… maybe it won’t be the last nice September day of the year, after all. It’s only mid-September and they’re sure gonna have at least one more good day and it’s really been a while since he met up with Mac outside of work so… whyever the hell not? “Sure. See you at eight, my place?”
She confirms and then they fall into discussing their latest case and maybe the day isn’t so bad after all. Alright, a bunch of midshipmen managed to get the better of him and he won’t get to take out Sarah flying after all but… there could be worse things than meeting Mac over dinner and sharing the day’s events with her. It really could be worse.
Fandom: JAG/Stargate
Rating: K+
Genres: gen
Recipient: mackenziesmomma
Prompt: JAG/Pre-SGA. Harmon Rabb, Laura Cadman, Harm has to give a *very* boring law briefing to a class full of future EOD officers, including Laura
Summary: Harmon Rabb is about to find out just how harmless the NROTC midshipmen of George Washington University can be.
A/N: Holiday Fic Request Meme. Sorry, sorrc, sorry that this is so late but pre-Christmas social engagements kept me really busy this week and I just didn't get to write anything :S I hope you still like it :) (and yes, I backdated this so my order isn't destroyed...)
Plenty of Ways That You Can Hurt a Man
“There are plenty of ways that you can hurt a man
and bring him to the ground
you can beat him you can cheat him you can treat him bad
and then leave him when he's down
but I'm ready yes I'm ready for you I'm standing on my own two feet
out of the doorway the bullets rip repeating the sound of the beat.”
Queen, “Another One Bites The Dust”
It’s just a bunch of college students, they said. Nothing to be afraid of, they said. And then Mac went to mock him and Chegwidden reiterated that he really owes the current cadet commander at George Washington University a favor - he’d refrained from pointing out again that it probably should be Chegwidden then who gave the guest lecture for the NROTC midshipmen - and that he shouldn’t get his damn panties in a twist. Easy for the Admiral to say, seeing as he isn’t supposed to teach a couple college seniors the finer points of an officer’s legal responsibilities.
Anyway… be it as it may, the faster he gets done with this, the sooner he can go back to his real job. Right, so… where is that room where he’s supposed to bore the midshipmen out of their wits?
Ah, probably the one with the sign that says Home of the Blow Jobs, seeing as the midshipmen he’s supposed to teach are mostly future EOD and other explosives related personnel. There’s a little window in the door, so he takes a little peek into the room. He can see a couple middies in service dress at their desks. A male mid is slouching with his chin on his chest, so probably sleeping while two female middies are shooting little balls of paper at each other with what looks like makeshift slings. Okay, time to go in and engage the enemy.
The midshipmen of the George Washington University NROTC company. Yes.
Anyway… without knocking, he enters the room and there’s a bit of genuine satisfaction at seeing the middies stop whatever they were doing to scramble into formation and stand at attention next to their desks. Someone prods the sleeping male mid and belatedly, he jumps up to join the rest. After a moment of silence, one of the female middies in USMC service dress takes a step forward and salutes him, saying, “Midshipman First Class Laura Cadman, reporting the class ready for lecture, sir.”
Also, where the fuck is their supervising officer?
Okay, first things first. He returns her salute, then asks, “Beg pardon, Midshipman, but where’s your supervising officer?”
Cadman is still standing at attention and practically bellowing, “Sir, Lieutenant Commander Mackensen is not available due to health reasons. His XO Lieutenant O’Hare is overseeing a mandatory physical training session, sir.”
She’s bullshitting him. She sure as fucking hell is bullshitting him and he can’t prove anything because she’s doing everything textbook Marine. And that’s what’s irking him. Mac would have seen through this and probably called the mid on it but it’s a really nice September day, all sunny and warm and all he wants to do is take Sarah the Plane up into the air. All he wants is to get through this as fast as he can, so he just nods and walks over to the desk, putting his briefcase and his cover away, while Cadman walks back to her seat and he could have sworn that at least two people in the room just snickered under their breath. Wonderful.
Well. He resists the temptation to clear his throat and leans back against the desk. “Alright, Midshipmen, as you probably know, I’m here to teach you about your legal responsibilities as future leaders in the US Navy and US Marine Corps. I’ve been briefed that you already had two lectures on the UCMJ as…” One of the male Navy midshipmen’s hands shoots up and why does he get the feeling that he’s part of a damn college comedy? He nods. “Yes, Midshipman…”
“Collins, sir.” Ah, Collins. Whatever. He encouragingly nods at the kid to go on. “We were wondering, sir, what kind of crime you committed against your commanding officer.”
Uh. What? “Beg your pardon, Midshipman?”
“You see, sir,” that’s Cadman again, sounding much too helpful for him to believe that she has any honest intentions, “our guest lecturer on US Naval history last month was ordered to teach the class because she kept using her CO’s personal coffee supply for the entire office. Apparently, her CO was very fond of his coffee.”
What in God’s name is going on here?
Okay, he’s an officer of the United States Navy, has earned his wings, is a successful trial lawyer and deals with Marines on a daily basis. It really shouldn’t be hard for him to sidestep the landmines these whelps clumsily planted for him. “No crime committed, Midshipman, sorry to disappoint. But since we are on the subject of crimes…” Oh really? “Yes, Midshipman?”
“O’Bannon, sir.” Uh-huh. O’Bannon. And why is she looking at her fellow Marine Cadman before continuing to speak? “Just how realistic of a portrayal of a Navy lawyer’s life is A Few Good Men, sir?”
That damn fucking movie. Again. He wishes he could just ignore this - it’s not the first time he heard this question or the twentieth - and just plow on with his lecture and he knows that he should because apparently, NROTC midshipmen can smell your fear but damn… he just had it with that question. He just barely manages not to sigh or roll his eyes. “Well, what do you think, Midshipman?”
O’Bannon simply rolls her eyes in a “well d’uh” kind of way and he swears there’s just the chewing gum missing and she’d be a perfect picture of a bored high school student. Why are middies always so fucking young? “Is that a trick question, sir?”
He could give her the very helpful hint that you absolutely do not reply with a question to anyone higher in rank than you asking you a question themselves but then again, it’s really not his job to teach those mids some manners. If their commanders don’t do that, they’re gonna have to learn them soon enough. “Just a reminder that it’s always a good idea to think for yourself. So, anyway, if there are no more media related questions, we can…”
“Sir?” Jesus fucking Christ.
It’s that Navy kid that was asleep before he entered the room, looking way too awake now to ignore him. Shit. “What is it, Midshipman?”
“Coreaux, sir.” Ah, good. Mhm. “How many cases have you lost, sir?”
What kind of question is that? Why are they trying to turn this into a Q & A about the profession of a military lawyer? That wasn’t in the fucking brochure.
And why do they all keep sneaking Cadman glances and keep looking at their watches? Something is afoot here because his pilot’s sense for imminent danger just started tingling. But that’s bullshit, right? It’s just a bunch of kids, what kind of damage could they do? “A few, Midshipman. It’s par for the course as a military lawyer that you don’t win every…”
Holy fucking shit what the fucking fuck just fucking happened?
Why the hell was there an explosion behind him, why was he the only one taking cover and what the fuck just happened? Also, where the fucking hell are the mids going? Are they actually climbing out the windows?
Oh, okay, so that’s probably a pretty smart thing to do seeing as the room is filling with smoke from the explosion that happened somewhere behind him and crouches down, grapping his cover and briefcase and crawling towards the nearest window, hoping to God none of the middies has a camera or a mobile phone with a camera installed. Crawling around and vaulting out of the window really didn’t do his service dress much good.
So, whereto… “Ah, good, sir. I was about to go back in to see why it’s taking you so long to get out.” Cadman again with the uber-professional tone and, just for good measure, some totally not genuine sounding “concern”.
“Your selfless effort is duly noted, Midshipman.” He hopes she got his sarcasm. It’s not that he doesn’t think she’s not smart for that but he has known quite a few Marines who were just all too literal for…
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.” His first thought is that his sarcasm actually slid right off her but then he notices the flash of mischief in her eyes and he curses himself for not seeing it earlier.
That was all her doing. Whatever happened here, Cadman sure as hell is the fucking ring leader and he should have her arrested on the spot for disturbance of public order, conduct unbecoming, willful destruction of government property and basically every other offence he can come up with in the next thirty seconds. He really, really should do that. “Midshipman, I hope you are aware of the fact that your little stunt in there could cost you your spot on the program and your scholarship.”
She nods, even bouncing a little on the balls of her feet when she says. “Of course, sir. If that were my doing, I would be absolutely aware of the fact, sir.”
By now, the rest of the middies has gathered around them, trying to look indifferent but very clearly deeply interested in the outcome of this. He’s also beginning to wonder why no one else is evacuating from the building or in fact even reacting to the sound of the explosion and the smoke coming out of the window in any way. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing here, Cadman.”
She doesn’t smirk. Not really, anyway, more like the ghost of a smirk that usually would be there. Dammit. “I’m not playing a game, sir.”
He shakes his head. “Midshipman, you have no idea of the trouble that you’re in.”
“I’m a chemistry major, sir.” What is that supposed to mean? “Last time I checked, innocent until proven guilty still applies to the UCMJ.” Ah, right, that’s what it’s supposed to mean. She thinks just because she’s a chemistry major she’d be proficient enough to cover her tracks well enough so that the NCIS guys won’t find traces leading to her.
Either she’s the boldest and bravest midshipman he ever met or she’s just plain crazy.
Guessing from the reaction of the other mids - and the only reaction from the rest of the building being one of the lecturers next door sticking his head out of the window and retreating back inside with a longsuffering sigh when he sees them standing outside - this isn’t the first time that she pulled something like this. Or at least that something like this happens when she just happens to be around.
He does sigh now, looking up at the clear, sunny sky for a moment and wishing he’d be anywhere but here, arguing with a midshipman too smart for her own good and making a fool out of himself in the process. When he looks at her again, she’s smiling, a real, friendly, open smile without pretense or mocking, saying, “You know, sir… I believe the term is ubi non accusator, ibi non iudex.” Seriously? She’s starting to go lawyer on him? With Latin quotes about lacking plaintiffs and judges and everything? Seriously?
Ah, what the hell.
It’s a fucking sunny September day that’ll most probably be the last of its kind this year and Sarah needs a bit exercise and anyway, sometimes he’s just not in the mood for ruining the careers of bold, brazen and fucking smart Marines over a college prank. He rolls his eyes, mostly at himself. “You know what, Midshipman… let’s call it a day. You all probably have to study your asses off and I still have towers of paperwork on my desk. I’m pretty sure Commander Mackensen and I will be able to find a new date.”
To her credit, she doesn’t outright do a victory dance or pump her fist or anything like that, although she looks very much like she’d love to. Instead, she just nods, saying, “Of course, sir. Studying. We’re big fans of that.”
It nearly makes him snort because he’s pretty sure that studying is the last thing the mids will be doing with their - probably not so - unexpected free afternoon, just like “paperwork” is the last thing he’ll be doing with his. “Thought so. Well, then… dismissed.”
She does another picture perfect salute and, when he returns it, an equally by the book about face before walking off to meet her squad mates, most probably with a big, smug grin on her face. Judging from the way the others are high-fiving and fist-bumping her, it really was her doing and well, he can’t help pulling his phone out while walking away from the middies and dialing Mac’s number.
When she picks up, the first thing she says is, “You’re done early. Did you bore them all to sleep?”
He has to grin, even through her implication of his lectures being plain ass boring and replies, “Let me just say that today I met a future Marine who’ll either give her first commanding officer a serious heart attack or’s gonna go places. Either way, I already pity whoever’s going to have to be her superior.”
“Well,” she says on her end of the line, “how about you tell me over dinner tonight.”
Okay so that wasn’t what he’d planned with his evening and not with that Sarah, but then again… maybe it won’t be the last nice September day of the year, after all. It’s only mid-September and they’re sure gonna have at least one more good day and it’s really been a while since he met up with Mac outside of work so… whyever the hell not? “Sure. See you at eight, my place?”
She confirms and then they fall into discussing their latest case and maybe the day isn’t so bad after all. Alright, a bunch of midshipmen managed to get the better of him and he won’t get to take out Sarah flying after all but… there could be worse things than meeting Mac over dinner and sharing the day’s events with her. It really could be worse.