Thursday, September 22, 2022

The Letter

"The Letter"

Author: CdnJAGScribe

E-mail:

Rating: M

Classification: Harm/Mac; Animal/Meg

Spoilers:

Summary: (A Part of the new Meg/Animal Story-line) Harm and Mac help Animal get a letter to a grieving parent.

DISCLAIMER: The characters Harm Rabb, Jr., Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie, Meg Austin, AJ Chegwidden, Bud Roberts, Harriet Sims-Roberts et al. belong (in concept and visual form) to CBS/Bellisarius. Animal and all OC characters are the property of Heather and Hugo Chikamori. No profit is being made from this story, nor is any infringement intended.

Author's Note: This is a fic idea that came from reading Mission: Jimmy Stewart and the Battle for Europe.

Review Replies:

Steamboat - thank you for the mascot correction. I will however be keeping LTJG Wainright a Husky as per stated - University of Washington boasts an in-house NROTC program as WSU has to go traipsing across the border to the UofIdaho.

fictionalmike: Thanks for the correction on the weight. When I'm writing, sometimes with no access to the internet in the car, it's very hard to keep accuracy to as high a level as I prefer. Thank you for the catch and it has been duly correct. Now will also check the thrust as well.

Dear Mr and Mrs. Wainwright;

Captain Toshio "Animal" Nakamura, United States Navy, sat in his seat thinking for a long moment as he wrote the next lines that would go into a letter that would be the worst letter that Mr. Stanley and Mrs. Eda Wainwright would ever receive in their lives.

As your son's air wing commanding officer,

Was he as good a commanding officer as he should have been considering he wasn't going to be bringing all his men and women of the airwing home with him on this cruise? With what was going on in Kosovo, the Navy was on a wartime footing. Missions over Serbia and Bosnia were around the clock. Missions that his squadron for the first time were doing; first to strike. Carrying two 2000lb Joint Direct Attack Munitions in the tunnel. Just 1000lbs short of the destructive bomber payload of a WWII B-24 Liberator.

There was going to be no way that he would be able to bring everyone home as long as humans devised more horrific ways and reasons for blowing each other off the face of the planet. Peacekeeping. Was that what they were really doing? People just found reason after reason, it didn't matter what, to kill their neighbors, mainly because they didn't either agree with their ethnicity or their religious or political belief systems.

It is my deepest regret to inform you...

Thirty five hundred men in the air wing, Ninety two air crews, twelve squadrons in the air-wing. Did he really have enough regret to go around to express it for each and every single soul in the air wing? How many would go down from operational accidents; from a crew being lost at sea due to any of the multitude of things that could go wrong in an F-14 Tomcat to a member of their ground crew in the squadron dying from a multitude of flight-deck related mishaps.

There were squadrons that came back stateside having lost a third of their contingent through a combination of operational accidents and combat related casualties. War was not an antiseptic tabulation of figures. It was a messy business of gory wounds, spouting blood, limbs being torn from bodies, devastating chest wounds and decapitations. All of which combined to get listed without fanfare or detail as x number of dead and wounded in a neat tabulated total ready for the assessment of post battle number-crunchers.

...that your son, Lieutenant JG Willard Philip Wainwright, was declared missing in action during a crucial mission in this war.

Animal shook his head. That was a white lie to cleanse the truth that the Wainright's son flying Fast Eagle 115 had taken a full on 23mm flak burst from a ZSU-23 ground to air anti-aircraft mobile gun emplacement at 600-1000 rounds per minute to his port nacelle and his F-14 had gone up like the Fourth of July fireworks scattering bits and pieces of Fast Eagle 115, naval aviator and RIO over a five mile radius of the explosion site.

Was it a crucial mission? Moving clumps of dirt from one spot to another by means of explosive force? Was it crucial that they, as human beings, strap on 30-ton hunks of air-grade aluminum bolted to air fuel mixers emitting 50,200 pounds of thrust at full afterburner propelling them at Mach 2.4 maximum speed and loaded with 4000lbs of explosives to go and deal death to other living human beings?

This would be something that Animal could never really truly reconcile. But orders were orders and as a serving officer in the United States Navy, there was no choice. You either followed orders during wartime or you were found in violation of the Uniform Code of Military Justice; a sentence for which if you were lucky under peacetime to be imprisoned for life. If you were found to be in contempt of those orders during a time of war such as now, you would after a certain amount of time and appeals be strapped to a gurney and put to permanent sleep with a three drug cocktail.

At least they didn't strap you to a chair now; pin a target over your heart and get six guys armed with M-14s loaded with one 7.62 round each, two of which were blanks to ease the conscience of the shooters, and just shoot you.

So they all followed orders. And sometimes circumstances meant that not everyone would come home hence the reason he was sitting here writing this letter as Carrier Air Wing Eight's commanding officer. Animal looked the locker containing his own personal effects. What would happen if he went down? They would gather up his belongings, put them into a box, address it stateside, send to Megan Renee Austin-Nakamura, his wife of barely four years along with their young son, not even an year old. There would be a solemn symbolic burial at sea for the members of his squadron to attend. And then a proper burial and interment at Arlington due to his Medal. And then life would go on.

Meg had already told him that he was her only; that if he went down, that she would spend the rest of her life alone - her choice, not his. She could not see anyone replacing him in her life, not ever.

Was Lieutenant JG Wainright married? No. Then he wouldn't have to write another painful letter to his spouse.

He took another deep breath and raised pen to paper.

Willard was a well-liked member of the squadron and a high-spirited, lively officer who excelled in the performance of his duties.

Animal took another deep breath, trying to remember the brown-haired and freckled young lieutenant JG. who was constantly running around doing all sorts of pranks during liberty and generally barely avoiding being reprimanded for his behavior; whether it was trying to ride on top of a sheep, being frantically told in Italian which Willard didn't know a lick of, down one of the narrow streets of Naples by his laughing junior officer squadron-mates or making a fool of himself around the young Italian ladies.

Willard was always a kind hearted soul according to his squadron-mates when Animal, as the CAG, had sat down to talk with them. Will never had a mean bone in his body.

He was a football player at the University of Washington for the Huskies, a corner back, wiry and tough, a candidate for recognition at the highest level of collegiate ball and a promising career ahead of him potentially in the NFL.

But the nation had come calling in 1996 and he'd answered his call. He was commissioned an Ensign and then after flight school and RAG had pinned on his silver bar.

Such a promising future and now, not even a body left to bury. Animal sought to try to find something else to fill in the space between the top and bottom margins but came up empty.

As Commander, Air Wing Eight, he always felt that letters back to next of kin shouldn't solely be shouldered by the squadron COs and thus he took the writing of condolence letters for those combat losses under his wing; he gave out the orders, he should be the one to write to the kin of those casualties.

He will be missed by the squadron with whom he served and by those who had the fortune to meet him during the course of his service with the United States Navy. His service and sacrifice will never be forgotten,

Sincerely,

Toshio Nakamura, Captain,

Commanding Officer, Carrier Air Wing Eight,

USS Theodore Roosevelt, CVN-71

Animal put down his pen and sat for a long moment thinking, his face drawn and weary. How many more letters, how many more losses? It seemed every mission over Kosovo, there was always at least one or two. The flak was nearly always thick enough to walk on and it was those missions that he knew someone wasn't coming home whether it was an Eighteen Charlie (F/A-18C) squadron or one of the A-6E squadrons or any of the squadrons under his command. He knew that as soon as his wheels touched no-skid trapping the third wire, his hardest job was soon to begin.

Nothing hit a harder punch to the gut than having to sit down to write a letter to tell parents or a spouse that their loved one wasn't coming home again.

He leaned back in his chair trying to think about how he was going to word the letter of Will's RIO Lieutenant Commander Mario Cantorelli, and shook his head. Out of the two of them he'd known Mario the most as Mario had been in the squadron since Animal himself had been a Lieutenant Commander. Mario first came into the Black Aces as a JG then progressing to O-4 himself as the years went by and as his experience grew. Mario was a straight-shooter; he wouldn't have flown with Wainright if he was dangerous but by all accounts, the cone was doing it right which meant that what happened was sheer bad luck, the ZSU-23 just had their number.

What a miserable way to go: here one minute and barbecue bits the next.

His macabre reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Enter!" He snapped out. He needed a break from this miserable task.

"You busy?" Harm asked as he craned his head around the door.

Animal sighed. "I need a break from all this..." he gestured at his desk and Harm's gaze towards the desk revealed to his line of sight the apparent letter, Animal had been working on.

"Air Wing lost another one?" There would only be two reasons for Animal writing a handwritten letter. Animal always wrote handwritten personal correspondence to his wife, Meg, which he kept private; or he was writing a personally written and signed letter of condolence to the next of kin of one of his air wing. Animal had always felt as though a word-processor typed letter was impersonal whereas a letter of condolence should be at the very least personally hand-written.

Animal nodded quietly. Harm didn't know what it was like to deal with this kind of thing. "Pull up a chair."

"Got a second one for me, sir?"

"Major, you're here too?"

Mac nodded as she followed Harm into the room, taking a proffered chair, she sat in it.

"We had a hell of a mission." Animal said; he flew regardless of the regs stating that CAGs were not to fly regular combat missions as their command position required their presence on the CAG Bridge. If Animal could bend that rule into a pretzel, he's already done it; giving the Medal of Honor Society fits and making his higher ups have migraines. No-one was going to chain him to a desk. "VF-41 lost an F-14. I flew flight lead for One One Five. He got tagged by a twenty-three five miles south of Radijkiew Village. One golden BB and he was bacon bits scattered over the Serb countryside. Don't know if it was a Serb emplacement that got him but the bastards have their Triple-A all over the goddamn landscape."

Mac winced and Harm knew that the Serbs had gotten a lucky shot. They must have hit a fuel line and the F-14 had exploded.

"Defence Department won't green-light a retaliatory attack on the emplacements that fire on us; says that Zsus are a low value target. Meanwhile they get to keep picking our boys off and..." Animal uttered a frustrated sigh as he got up and paced the cabin, "I get to keep writing these goddamned letters."

Harm could see the pain in his friend's eyes as he leaned his weight against the cabin window; reinforced glass. This was his private office on the CAG Bridge, not his quarters in the hull of the ship. He looked out onto the deck where the multicolored deck handlers were scuttling around like a rainbow of ants.

"Sir, you do what you do to help those families of those who you served with come to terms with the loss of their loved ones." Mac stood up, walking over to Animal.

"Every time, it just seems like it takes a little more to come to grips with it all." Animal said, his voice weary. "The responsibility of giving orders that send these men and women to their deaths."

"If you didn't feel that way..." Mac said quietly, "You wouldn't be who you are.".

"And who might that be, Major Mackenzie?"

Harm grinned as Mac replied, "A caring Commander who tries his best to bring everyone home again, no matter the cost, sir."

Animal snorted, "Well sometimes, my best appears not to be good enough.".

Harm said, "You can't win them all, sir" he looked over at Animal and Mac. "Sometimes the house wins." He paused, looking over at Mac, "what do you say you give us those letters and we'll deliver them to the families."

"Both families live in Virginia." Animal stated as he sat down again to write the second of two letters. Mac and Harm just lounged on the couch in the meeting area of Animal"s bridge cabin.

57136 Roosevelt Drive, McLean Virginia,

Harm and Mac dressed in their service dress uniforms, pulled up in their Navy Mercury and stepped out donning their service caps and stepping in step up the walk to the house.

On their knock an elderly lady came to the door. "Mrs Cantorelli?".

"Yes, how may I help you two, You're with the Navy, aren't you?". The official Navy people had been there notifying her of her son's death so she wondered why they were back so soon.

"Yes, ma'am." Mac said, this wasn't the time to differentiate between Marines and Navy.

"Ma'am, The Commander, Air Group Eight served with your son for a long time with VF-41. Since he is currently under orders and on deployment, he is unable to hand-deliver this letter personally, so we're delivering this on his behalf."

Mrs. Sophia Cantorelli took the letter from them hesitantly with brimming eyes.

She opened the letter and was only able to read a little before a paroxysm of grief hit her.

"Ma'am?" Mac asked. The late RIO's mother silently grasped a handkerchief and with shaking hand extended the letter to Mac.

Mac looked at the letter as Mrs. Cantorelli said between sobs, "Please...read the letter for me. It is too soon to read it myself."

"Dear Mrs. Cantorelli," Mac began, "It is with deepest sorrow and regret that I, as Mario's former squadron-mate and now Commanding Officer, Carrier Air Wing Eight, have to inform you of Mario's death in action over Serbia.

I was in the air with Mario at the time, flying as second plane in a two-plane flight when we were attacked. They had no time to eject so I know that they are no longer with us.

I can say that Mario and I knew each other as both squadron-mates and as friends. On liberty he was the life of the party and would always be finding lots of fun things to do with the rest of the gang. I can't count how much fun we had in ports of call as too many are drowned out in a haze of alcohol and good food.

Mario always appreciated good food and Italian folk music. Though I have to say, I didn't share his love of the music, I could be always assured of enjoying our liberty stops when Mario suggested a place for the squadron to go to.

Mario and I served together for nearly eight years in VF-41: five as squadron-mate; three as his squadron commanding officer and two more as his Commander Air Group. In all those years I can truly call Mario my friend.

The time that we served together bring back memories. As a friend, I mourn his loss and truly miss him. He will be remembered by me, by his squadron and his air-wing mates. His service and his sacrifice will never be forgotten.

Sincerely,

Toshio Nakamura, Captain, USN

Carrier Air Wing (CVW) Eight,

USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71)

Mac put the letter down while Mrs. Cantorelli cried for a while. When she gathered herself back together. She said, "Now I feel like I can lay my Mario to his final rest. The Navy Department letter; it was so formal and... and" Mrs. Cantorelli tried to search for the words "so cold and impersonal. Mario's commanding officer; he brought back my Mario even if he couldn't bring back my Mario in person."

Mac was confused for a minute before she grasped the meaning.

"My Mario, he always lived for the moment from the time he was a little boy. He always was looking for fun. Always climbing trees or chasing neighborhood squirrels or kicking the ball around. That is the Mario I remember, not the officer Mario, the strait-laced flier. I wanted my Mario and I'm happy that his commanding officer got to know the real Mario. He brought my Mario back to me. You tell him that when you see him again."

Harm nodded, "I will. Ma'am."

She nodded, "The Navy said that they needed a time that they could do a closed casket burial. I told them. No, not yet. Now I feel Mario's soul has come home. I will call them tomorrow and ask them to give me a time when the Roosevelt is in Port and his CO can attend. There is no body so it shouldn't matter the time.". She reached out her hand to Mac who took it. "Thank Mario's commanding officer and thank you for bringing him home to me.".

When Harm and Mac stepped back out onto the sidewalk after completing their heavy duty, Harm gave Mac a wry grin. "You know, Animal may be on to something. Navy F-14 flier, deliverer of souls.".

Mac shook her head. This was a bit too deep of waters to tread. Seeing visions was one thing but transporting memories and souls of the deceased back to their loved ones was a bit much to take. "So, where to now?"

"No idea." Harm said.

"Just get me to a Beltway Burgers. I'm hungry. All this talk of souls is just making me want to appreciate being alive with a big fat juicy burger." When Harm attempted to say something Mac raised her index finger. "Not one word, squid"

Harm decided the better course of action was to do as Mac said.

THE END.

A Rift Mended

"A Rift Mended"

Author: CdnJAGScribe

E-mail:

Rating: M

Classification: Angst/Romance

Spoilers: Set in between Shifting Sands & Secret Agent Man

Summary: Surprise…a Harm/Mac story. Be sure you read this because it may be a long time before I do another one. And yeah…this one isn't a Mac-bashing one.

DISCLAIMER: The characters Harm Rabb, Jr., Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie, Meg Austin, AJ Chegwidden, Bud Roberts, Harriet Sims-Roberts et al. belong (in concept if not name) to CBS/Bellisarius. Animal and all OC characters are the property of Heather and Hugo Chikamori. No profit is being made from this story, nor is any infringement intended.


McMurphy's Tavern, Falls Church, VA, 1600hrs

Harm nursed his beer; noting rather soberly that it was getting warm and it really didn't taste very smooth going down the throat. He grimaced as he raised his hand rather shakily; his eyesight a little bleary, "Barkeep…can I get another one?" He really didn't give a shit about how drunk he was making himself. After today, he had the right to be smashed; the alternative was unbearable. Anything to keep his mind off of unemployment and the impending job search.

A disgusted sounding growl invaded his aural cavity; "A little early to be tying one on, isn't it, Hammer?"

"Not now…" he grumbled, his face heating, half in his cups.

"Jesus Christ, Hammer. How many did you go through?"

An unwelcome thought crashed through what neurons were still firing albeit inebriated; no it wasn't her. He looked up in horror. Short, stocky yet curvy build...Yes, it was. It was Skates. Skates had a pitying expression on her face that made Harm feel like the smallest living being. Frankly he was embarrassed to have Skates, his RIO, see her driver in such a vulnerable state as this.

"Honey…did you just say that Harm was here?" Another voice assailed his auditory canal, the tones were so familiar and he hadn't heard her voice in so long that he nearly dropped his newly acquired libation.

"M-meg? Meg Austin?" he croaked out, nearly kicking over the chair in response to the voice. "I…I…haven't seen you for…so…" He moved forward to embrace her, but was startled when Meg, usually accommodating to his PDAs, moved backwards out of his reach.

"Hold on there…Harm." Her barely audible twang sounded amused. "Before you get all touchy-feely…you might want to ask my husband if that's OK."

"H-husband?" Harm looked like he'd been knocked for a loop. When his eyes could focus he locked on a Meg whose hair was much shorter; styled in a tousled bob, and recoiled to see Animal moving to stand beside her. He looked her up and down and noticed that there was a gold band on Meg's left ring finger, nestled beside a thin gold band with a princess cut diamond – frankly after Paraguay he'd had it with diamonds. He'd wished he'd never heard of the damned things, especially after how things had gone with Mac. Animal had been the one who had made the first comment regarding the earliness of his drinking session. Hell, Animal had never been through a Chegwidden verbal assault, so what right did he have to be so judgemental, Harm thought resentfully. "Husband?" he repeated somewhat deflated. "How?" He cringed for a moment thinking of how much he sounded like an idiot.

"We met in Naples." Meg replied casually, giving him an evaluating once-over. The memories of those times that they used to exchange heated glances and loaded looks had all but disappeared. She cheekily grinned at him and said, "It was the gold wings…"

By this time the barkeep was giving Harm pointed stares and Harm getting the message invited all three to sit down with him.

Animal growled, "So…what happened to you to have us find you here at 1600hrs on a weekday plastered half out of your mind and working on the other half?"

Harm snorted bitterly, "I was fired…got told to go look for another job. I think if I remember correctly, although after about five beers, it's not all too clear anymore: According to the admiral, I'm not a team player…and I think he said something to the fact that I'm completely controlled by my own emotions… and if I remember correctly…that was somewhere between the admission that he'd shoved my resignation up the chain to BuPERS and telling me to either drive a cab or wrestle alligators." At that Meg raised an eyebrow, restraining a snort of disgust at the temerity of the admiral to dismiss Harm's years of service with such a derogative evaluation of his competence.

"I presume Mac was in there?" Animal commented sarcastically.

Harm snorted. "Well, you assumed right, sir..." Animal was three ranks ahead of Harm and five years older and was well-versed in military customs and procedure and dressing down an officer especially in the presence of another officer was not considered proper military etiquette. Especially when Harm was a decorated military officer with a proven track record.

"So Miss Prim n'Proper Marine didn't open her mouth one single iota to help you plead your case?" Harm, carefully on hearing the question, peered at Animal and he swore he could hear the insult directed at Mac like a physical beating.

"What else could she do? If she tried to defend me, she'd be court-martialed." Harm replied after a moment to contemplate his response.

"So...you haul your ass down there, save her ass end, then she doesn't even have the courtesy of defending you to Chegwidden?" Animal snorted disgustedly. "I don't know what the hell you see in her...Rabb."

As angered and hurt as he was with Mac's choice of Webb as a suitable mate after all he had done, he still had this inexorable need to defend her. "I seriously doubt she didn't feel any guilt. Animal." He retorted. After that meeting where he had had his entire career and world implode; as he turned to leave, he'd caught the devastated look on Mac's face that Chegwidden hadn't seen fit to welcome him back and all but called him a liability. Harm knew for a fact that his Navy career was over. Even if on the minuscule off-chance that the SECNAV wanted him back, he knew he would not be able to go back to JAG. "She did put up a protest..." He began, as Animal cut him off...

"Yeah, a token one, I bet..." Animal could be abrasive but under that coat of surliness beat a heart that cared about his family and friends. And he could see his friend was hurting...badly.

Meg had kept her silence for a while as she had listened to her husband and her former work colleague converse. "Harm," she said softly, "what do you intend to do now?"

"Outside of nurse this beer in my hand?" Harm asked, looking blearily at the beer in his hand with surprise as if wondering how it had gotten there, his hand movements sluggish, "I have absolutely no idea..." He fastened a silly grin on his face. "Maybe I will move to Florida...and wrestle alligators. In fact...I think that's a great idea..." He looked at them decisively with a strangely amusing grin on his face, as if he'd reached a momentous decision. He then chugged back the entire contents of his bottle as if to celebrate his choice.

"If anything, Hammer..." Skates chimed in as Harm turned his head in the direction of her voice with exaggerated aplomb, "I don't think you should be driving home." She paused for a moment then gave him yet another one of her looks; "Face it, Harm, one of us three is gonna have to drive you home." Skates informed him. She extended out her right hand, palm up as Harm looked at her in confusion. "Keys! Hammer!" She ordered.

Harm could see Animal was grinning, the admiral had a wolfish smile as if to say serves you right, Hammer.

"C'mon..." He protested, "Just one more beer..."

"Harm!" Meg's voice had a hint of steel surrounding it, something he'd never heard the usually sweet and affable Meg Austin to utilize, He had heard it once before in Peru with her dressing down the late and lamented Gunnery Sergeant Granger, but never directed at him, "I think you've reached your cut-off point." She narrowed her eyes and glared at him, the slight nod of her head indicating the standing and knocked over bottles littering the table. Where the hell had she learned that tone of voice? Oh, yeah that's right...wrangling Animal was a full-time occupation in itself. Harm grumbled to himself as he stood up and made a great show of handing Skates the keys to the car. Smirking gratefully, Skates took the keys from his hand and slipped them into her jacket pocket.

"Lieutenant Commander…" Animal stated firmly. "We'll follow you there and then give you a ride back to NAF Washington."

"Thank you, sir. I'd appreciate that."

"Skates…" Harm said blearily, "How'd you get stuck shuttling VIPs around?"

"Just lucky, I guess…" Skates muttered sarcastically. "Detailer couldn't find an Eighteen Squadron to slot me to until a vacancy crops up so until then I'm on important people moving detail."

"Damn, that sucks." Harm grumbled, sympathetically.

"C'mon, Harm, let's get that alcohol wrung out of you..." Skates ordered and ushered him out the door. "You need to head home and dry out or no-one's gonna want to hire you."

Harm's Apartment, North of Union Station, 1755hrs.

Mac pulled up in her Corvette into the alley which Harm usually parked. In the usual two parking spots he had was parked his Corvette and another car, a 2003 Chevy Impala. Was it mistakenly parked there, but Mac had to circle twice to find another parking spot and a five minute walk ensued back to Harm's apartment. Letting herself in the main door, she headed up to his floor and through a closed door she could hear both male and female voices in his suite conversing: two different male voices, two different female voices. Biting down the desire to turn away and run from this as far as possible, she forced herself to confront the situation and knock on the door. "Can someone get the door, I don't particularly feel like getting it right now…" Harm's voice called out. The conversation stopped and eventually the door opened, partially. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman stood blocking entry to the doorway, "Hello?" she said. Mac thought she sounded rather suspicious.

Mac's heart dropped to her ankles. Not another blonde bimbo that Harm had picked up. It seemed to be a thing with him to gravitate towards vapid blondes.

"Who are you?" Well, Mac couldn't expect the woman to know who she was, since the blonde didn't look as though she could read military insignia let alone tell a Marine from a Navy officer.

"I'm Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie, Harm's partner?" she finished pointedly. "I was wondering if Harm was in?"

"I don't suppose that he's in too much of a talking mood. Ms. Mackenzie." The blonde pointed out. She was taller than Mac by several inches and the omission of her rank with which she had introduced herself with was a pointed slight in her direction. Evidently this blonde had known Harm prior to her arrival at JAG. "Forgive me for my rudeness." She continued, "I'm Meg…Austin…" she commented as Mac's heartbeat picked up in alarm. No…of all the things to happen, Meg coming back out of the woodwork had to have been her biggest nightmare. Meg was enjoying this. As a female she could read all the signals coming off this jarhead clearly as a signboard in broad daylight. She twisted the knife in a little bit more. "But, I go by…Commander…Megan Austin…" she paused; an evil smirk on her face,…as if to stop there…and then tossed in as a casual after thought… "professionally, however…" she paused yet again. "my married name…is Meg Austin-Nakamura." Take that, you self-absorbed jarhead. Meg thought to herself.

The rush of relief nearly made Mac sink to her knees. She had come to see Harm, to hash things out to see where they stood, both as friends and perhaps as something more. With all the alarming thoughts that had been running through her head, the simple fact that Meg was a married woman and therefore out of reach of Harm ever renewing her acquaintance made Mac extremely grateful to whatever deity was out there.

"Harm?" CDR Meg Austin-Nakamura called out to Harm, "There's someone here at the door that you should talk to…if you can get the pounding headache out of your skull…" she paused for a moment. "I think you two need to talk."

"Who is it?" was the reply; Meg snorted in annoyance and looked over at Mac with a smidgen of sympathy at the bullheadedness of the man that both she and Mac knew all too well. Mac looked over with some surprise at the sympathy coming from Meg.

"Just get your ass over here, Harm, I'm not your goddamned secretary." Meg's Texas twang was more evident when she was annoyed, of which Harm was doing an extremely good job of provoking her into.

"Alright…sheesh, Meg." Harm voice sounded cross.

"You smell like a brewery." Meg pointedly told him as she sniffed the air around him, as he and Meg switched positions in the doorway. It was a close swap of positions like they'd done many times before in 95, like in Cuba – he still remembered that excursion fondly, but the intimacy wasn't there any more and the knowledge that she was a married woman curbed any feelings towards her.

But he didn't resist the temptation to tease her. "Well…thank you. I'm certainly glad for my olfactory senses that you smell considerably better than me at any point in time."

"Hey, Rabb…I'd thank you to not flirt with my wife…" the other male voice commented sarcastically.

Harm bit down a laugh and retorted back witty and quick, "I saw her first."

"Well, I married her…so deal." At that point, the other female voice barked out in laughter. Mac's heart sped up again. Another female in the apartment and that woman didn't sound like she was attached to anyone. Oh dear god, not again.

"What do you want, Mac." Harm looked at her without any emotion at all. She recoiled from the verbal slap.

"We need to talk." Mac said quietly, trying to quell her emotions.

"I thought we said all we needed to in Paraguay." His rising hurt was taking over again; the urge to lash out and wound. "You pretty much closed the door on any sort of relationship…"

"I think we'd better take that as a cue to leave…" the male voice said. "Those two need to hash this out."

"Can I come in?" Mac asked Harm.

Harm replied tiredly, "If you must…" He really didn't have the energy to go through this. After that drinking binge, his body ached with the desire for more alcohol to numb the pain, but he wasn't about to drink in front of Mac.

"A word with you, Colonel Mackenzie." Mac looked over to see the man who spoke. Even though he was dressed in a G-1 leather flight jacket, jeans and t-shirt, his stance and demeanour screamed stars. And Mac instinctively snapped to attention as she was still in uniform having taken the long way home from work. He pulled Mac in to the side while the rest gathered by Harm, "I don't know what the hell happened down there…but Harm is my friend, we served in Iraq together during the First Gulf War, flying CAP over Camel Station. We protected each other's six. We depended on each other so we could come home in one piece. Now I'm only going to say this once and it'd better sink in clearly, Colonel. You hurt him again, and I'll goddamned guarantee that I will make your life a living hell." He paused, "Do we understand each other, Colonel?"

"Crystal, sir."

"If you two are going to get back together…then you make damned sure you treat him right. Don't jerk him around…" If a pair of brown eyes could look cold…these ones sure did, Mac thought. "…or there won't be a goddamned position outside of Adak's Marine Security detail that will take you onboard."

"Sir! Yes, sir!"

"I think I've made my position clear?" His growl was just as intimidating as Chegwidden's.

"Clear as glass, sir." Mac drew a held breath as the admiral, for that was what she thought correctly that he was, nodded his head once and turned away towards his wife who was waiting for him.

"Mac…square this away once and for all…" was all Meg said as she turned to leave with her husband, the admiral.

The short RIO, the one that she referred to as Harm's dwarf backseater, stood in front of her, "Ma'am…You know that I don't like you very much, but he's one of my best friends, ma'am. Do right by him." Then they were gone after a few perfunctory backslaps around and then Harm and Mac were alone in his apartment.

Mac sighed deeply, she couldn't be resentful of them, they were his friends and they wanted the best for Harm. But what big shoes that she was supposed to fill? How could she when she still had the mental scars from a lifetime of abuse? And the abuse from Sadik was just the salty icing on a stale hard cake of resentment. But she didn't know whether or not the resentment was towards anyone that she knew or whether it was just at men in general. But above all, she was tired of running; of running away from something that she didn't understand…an unknown catalyst of fear percolated into sheer terror of commitment.

She took another deep breath…and walked over to the sofa and sat down on it, looking over at Harm expectantly.

Harm just shut the door and stared at her. The unemotional quality of the stare made her feel about three inches tall.

Finally when it was unbearable enough, she said, "So…are we going to sit here and stare at each other for the rest of the night?"

Harm said to her, the bitterness of his voice ripping a hole in her heart and tearing it to shreds, "Well…you've got Clay…you could go and see him – meanwhile, I think I may have another drink when I'm alone."

"All the more reason for me not to leave." She returned.

"You think I'm going to become an alcoholic?" The word rolled off his lips like an accusation: an insult. That was a low blow, especially for him. They had become too efficient in hurting each other. "You think I'm going to let you…turn me into one?" his statements were like slaps in the face. But they had been doing this to each other for too long and Mac was determined to not let this become like the other times, where they had hit each other with stinging verbal barbs because they couldn't say or admit to each other what it was that was eating them up.

"I'm not letting you drive me away, this time." Mac said firmly locking eye contact with Harm. "It's time we dealt honestly with each other and not let ourselves get sidetracked."

"Why now?" Harm asked; the tone in his voice almost plaintive. "We keep hurting each other. And I've finally come to the realization that I can't change…and neither can you."

"When we were in Paraguay, I asked you a question. I want a straight answer, Harm." She paused, "You resigned your commission and you travelled 5,000 miles to find me and nearly get killed. Why?"

Harm was silent…for a long time. Mac's heart was pounding in anticipation of the answer when he finally spoke. "…because I don't think that I could have survived…losing you." The last two words were so soft she could barely hear them. Mac didn't interject. She waited to hear him out for the first time in a long time. It was hard to do so because she was still in pain, still wondering if her whole demeanour was going to crack. "Because I was angry with myself, with Chegwidden that he wouldn't let me keep you safe…that he knew that he was sending you into a dangerous situation with an agent whose missions have gone south more times than I can count on both hands and feet and didn't have a contingency plan and he did it anyways, like he was willing to discard you. And then when I got down there and got you out of the situation, you kissed Webb." He said bitterly and then looked away as if he didn't want to see Mac's reaction.

"So…that explains why you were so against Webb while we were down there…and why you said some of the things that you did." Mac said softly. "But Harm, you can't understand what it felt like to hear his screams when Sadik tortured him. I'm the Marine, I was supposed to protect him, but he protected me and took the torture. They beat him, nearly to death. They burned him with cigarette butts and tasers. We had to think, to bond together in solidarity…we were going through this together…and then you came waltzing in like a white-knight with guns blazing, and at the end of it all you were intact…you were unhurt after all that Webb and I had been through. There was resentment that you couldn't understand what we had been through and I took it out all of that resentment that you were uninjured yet again, on you." Mac's eyes filled and spilled over, her tears tracking down her cheeks. "You were the one that always protected me…but you weren't there until the very end. And I'm sorry that I hurt you saying what I did, but it was in response to how you treated me. I've always been an afterthought." Harm looked like he was going to object to the characterization, but Mac held up her hand. "I don't want you to treat me like an afterthought any more. If you are going to have me, then I want to be your life…your whole life. I want you to treat me like an equal." She paused for a long moment. "You said some hurtful things there like Just how many times have you taken his pants off anyway? I know it might seem like I've jumped into bed with every other guy just because…" she paused for a long moment as Harm levelled an assessing look at her. "But I've never, ever…played the whore with Clay or with any of the men that I've been with. Each of them has been a single monogamous relationship." There was a touch of anger in her voice there that wasn't there before. "It hurt, Harm, that you insinuated that I had a sexual relationship with him, just because…" she trailed off.

"Then why?"

"Why did I gravitate towards Dalton? Why did I gravitate towards Mic, towards Webb?" she asked him. "Dalton was because I thought at first that I was in love with him, with his lifestyle and I wanted it at the time. But then I realized that money isn't everything. Mic was my first truly enjoyable relationship – but that was after you rejected me in Sydney." Mac stated, giving him the look.

"I didn't reject you in Sydney" Harm replied, "I needed more time."

"Why?"

"It was too soon after…" he paused for a moment to swallow, "I needed to work out my feelings towards you, towards Meg and get over the death of Dad."

"You didn't say that…" Mac opined. "What you said was: You know they wrote "Eternity" on this bridge... in lights... on New Year's Eve. And I asked you if that was how long we were going to wait."

"I told you that location doesn't change who we are. We'd get in trouble if we slept together." Harm explained tiredly.

"But…now it isn't the case, is it…Harm…"

"No, I guess not." He said rather bitterly. "I'm unemployed…so who'd want someone like me?" he said sarcastically. "And I don't even get UI because I quit…and Chegwidden processed it. I'm not sure if I even want to go back to JAG even if by chance it was offered. I can't work under Chegwidden. He pretty much threw me under the bus when it came to the Singer murder trial and he just about left you to die in Paraguay. So what do I do?" he shook his head. "I'm not a candidate for a relationship, especially with this baggage." He paused. "You were right, Mac, I do want to be on top and it's been a bad habit of mine. It comes of being in control of a sixty one ton hunk of air-grade aluminum that flies at Mach 2 plus. If I'm not in control, I'm dead. It was drummed into me in flight-school by Hochhausen and in RAG by Nakamura. Blame them for my control freak nature." He continued bitterly. "You had to be insane to strap on an F-14 Tomcat and fly twice the speed of sound to take on bad guys in planes. But I did it and did it well. So it's part of me now."

"And I'll have to just learn how to deal with it…" Mac retorted. "That won't prevent me from giving you a slap upside the head periodically to curb you from it if necessary." She smiled a bit…wiping her eyes. "I'm beginning to understand why you did it…coming down to Paraguay that is."

"Really?" Harm asked, his tone disbelieving.

"You can't say it, though, can you? It's the trauma behind the words. Everybody that you said it to is gone, aren't they? Gym, your Dad, Diane…" Harm put his head in his hands as he sat down on the armchair farthest away from the couch as if he was scared of her. Mac put her own hurt aside and moved over to sit beside his taking his hands in her own. "Then what if I say it to you instead?"

"What?"

"Harm?" she said, her voice soft, but insistent. "I…love…you." She said, clearly enunciating every word.

He stared at her, barely getting his vocal chords working, his words coming out choked and harsh, "Do you really mean it?" he asked. "You're not just playing with my heart, are you?" Mac's heart convulsed painfully as she heard the pain in his voice.

"Yes, I mean it…" she said running her thumbs over the tops of his hands as she clasped his in hers. "…and no, I don't want to play with your heart any more. I want it for my own; to keep and to cherish…and to protect." She said simply.

"How can I believe you?" Harm asked, his eyes still looked scared of her, of the damage that she could do to his heart.

"We have too much baggage to work through for this to develop quickly." Mac decided. "But I think we should go see a therapist; the both of us. But all I want you to know for now is that I'm not with Clay and that I want to be with you. And anything else we'll take it as it comes. Harm. Do you trust me?"

Harm was introspective for a long moment before he replied. "It will take time. We've hurt each other too much in the past for it to be water under the bridge."

"Then let's take it one day at a time…no promises except one…just a hope that one day we'll be together, but we always put each other first in our lives from hereon in. That I have a say in your life and that you have a say in mine."

"You know that it's going to be difficult." Harm stated.

"I'm a Marine…difficult is part of the MOS." Mac said… "I have trauma to deal with and you have yours and we'll face it together."

"Semper Fi, just like in your Corps motto, you mean?" Harm asked.

"Of course…"

Harm visibly relaxed then said "Ok…I guess…" He squeezed her hands and got a reassuring squeeze from her. Their hearts still bruised and torn, but mending, each silently regarded each other with the realization of the commitment that bound them together and the long path before them. But they knew that their relationship would be the stronger for it. Instead of rushing into it and letting old hurts divide and conquer them, they would mend each rift and bind them together in domestic harmony.

And a shining hope for their everlasting unity would flare into eternity.

Voluntary Separation (Chapter One)

Until I get several chapter written...I won't turn this into a separate blog...

"Voluntary Separation"
Chapter One - "Not Going Back"
Author: CdnJAGScribe
E-mail:
Rating: M
Classification:
Spoilers:
Summary: [Animal/Kimber] What happens when Animal and his XO realize their deepest feelings for each other. Will they do the right thing or will they let passion overtake them. And potentially ruin everything they've ever worked for.
DISCLAIMER: The characters Harm Rabb, Jr., Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie, Meg Austin, AJ Chegwidden, Bud Roberts, Harriet Sims-Roberts et al. belong (in concept if not name) to CBS/Bellisarius. Animal and all OC characters are the property of the author. No profit is being made from this story, nor is any infringement intended. Kimber Benton and Jerica Benton are from Jem and the Holograms and are copyrighted to the rightful owners of the cartoon from the 1980s.
Author's Note: My friend had the biggest crush on Kimber Benton of the cartoon Jem and the Holograms. And he wanted to pull her into the story as a character in a Navy Fic I was writing. Well that Navy fic ended up melding with rhe JAG universe and well, now Kimber in our story is a fully fledged character that has left behind the past of being in a band with her sister and bandmates, has become the XO of an F-14 fighter squadron and is fully encased within the Navy. Jerica on the other hand is now a well-known singer/songwriter and music producer who is now married to her longtime boyfriend, Rio, and still wonders how her sister, who was completely clueless in what she wanted in life; got her shit together, went to NROTC at UCLA and became a naval aviator flying Tomcats, working her way up to the rank of Commander and became the XO of the top fighter squadron in the US Navy. This is the cartoon Kimber not that abysmal trash remake movie.

I also made her Sim in Sims 3 fully intending for her to be my friend's Sims 3 sim's spouse, well that didn't happen and she ended up jumping my Tosh Nakamura sim in the shower. So hence the reason why this story idea popped out of the ether.

1030hrs EST; Office of the Commanding Officer, VF-41 Black Aces, NAS Oceana; Virginia Beach, VA 1999

"Hey, CO..." his XO's voice came from the doorway of his office. VF-41 Black Aces squadron CO Commander Toshio Animal Nakamura looked up from his file. "FRS (Fleet Reserve Squadron) sent us a bunch of new meat..." His XO, Commander Kimber Jugs Benton grinned a nasty grin, "I see it's throat-slitting time again with these new nuggets. So who's going up with them first?"

"You take 'em up and slash the list of sixteen down to a manageable number."

"Six drivers. I take it we're keeping the R2D2s?" Kimber asked.

"Sounds good to me." Animal smiled back at her. "Scooter will figure out which of the RIOs we're hanging on to."

"You got it, CO."

"Countin' on you, XO." Animal gave her a thumbs up.

"Don't worry, Animal, they won't be able to get me off their six."

"Be ruthless, Jugs."

"Aye, that." The VF-41 Black Aces were the top squadron in the Navy and Jugs and Animal were planning to keep it that way. New crew selection, as experienced patched members were fleeted up to XO positions within other squadrons, was ruthless. If one lost against the XO twice in a best of three dogfight match they were out. Kimber and Animal were looking for tactical smarts, dogfighting ability and the ability to get out of tight situations.

The CO and the XO were the ones to beat and neither was beatable by a nugget in any stretch of the imagination; they were too experienced in ACM. It was ability that determined if one would helm the squadron. And Kimber was no slouch in the dogfighting arena.

In DACT (dissimilar air combat tactics) training, Jugs had pasted so many of the aviators in the VFC-127 Cylons Aggressor squadron so many times there was a tally board in the Black Aces ready room as to who on the Cylons was going to get hit by Jugs today. The TACTS pod kept a running tally and every so often Animal liked to send the VFC-127 Cylons CO a cheery "so how's your day going?" e-mail with Jug's latest TACTS kill count on the attachment marked please read. That didn't make Animal or Jugs very well-liked in the VFC-127 ready room. Anything to keep the competition up.

Animal was certainly willing to challenge other squadrons to DACT training. After all one didn't constantly fly against similar opponents unless one was flying combat vs Iran. And if one couldn't down a similar aircraft while knowing the performance characteristics of their own plane they flew, they'd be lost vs a dissimilar aircraft.

And that was why those who failed twice in the matchups with the XO were cut from the squadron. There was no room for the slow in the Black Aces.

Jugs was Animal's wingman on most of their combat missions over Bosnia. And it looked as though hostilities were going to break out again so he needed the squadron at top capabilities. The Bosnians had tossed up Strelas after them when he'd flown TARPs missions through the hot zones; sometimes in volleys so one had to hit the flares while going evasive in mountainous terrain which was not fun on even the best of times and low cloud ceilings, 2330 hrs and uneven natural hard deck made evasive an absolute nightmare. He and Jugs had seen it all and had evaded it all and were seasoned combat veterans who had no time for jackasses with their hair on fire who didn't have any combat smarts.

1730hrs EST; VF-41 Black Aces Squadron Offices; NAS Oceana; Virginia Beach, VA

"I don't know what the hell they're sending us, Animal. But these guys are lucky to be able to fly a proper formation let alone fly combat. I wouldn't give them a C-9 to fly let alone an F-14. I cut them down to four. Took on two of them at a time and they still couldn't take me." Jugs said disgustedly putting the files of those who passed by the skin of their teeth on her CO's desk.

Lieutenant Catherine "Reaper" Davis leaned her head in. "Sir, FRS is complaining that you're sending a bunch of cones back."

"Well, Reaper, maybe if they sent me more like you, I wouldn't have to keep tossing their carcasses back on shore."

"Sir, I don't think I'm allowed to tell a silver oak leaf that." Reaper said grinning at her CO.

"Here, give me the phone and I'll tell him that." Jugs grinned as Animal told Reaper to hand him the phone. Jugs and Reaper went out into the main hall.

"So, ma'am is he going to...?" Reaper asked.

"Probably. But then he can get away with it."

There were snatches of the conversation including "...can't fight their way out of a goddamn wet paper bag." and "...if they can't tell their left foot from their right how the fucking hell are they supposed to find the bird-farm in the middle of the fucking ocean during blue-water ops?" and "you're going to keep getting them back until I get better quality prospects that I can use instead of having to slit their throats and toss 'em back." and a last "I don't give a fucking goddamn sour owl shit if you complain to the CNO! He'll fucking well agree with me. Now do your fucking job and send me some more nuggets the calibre of Reaper Davis!" along with a slammed phone. It sounded like something broke.

"Think I have to replace the phone again, ma'am?" Reaper asked.

"Yeah..." Jugs replied, "That's the sixth one this month. FRS complains every time he sends them back. They probably will whine to the CNO and CNO will probably tell them to shut up and do their job. That's the way it usually goes." Jugs rolled her eyes, "Good news is I heard that VADM Pointer is up for four-star selection next year and is a candidate for CNO's position. He's a former Black Ace."

Reaper grinned, "oh, I'm sure FRS will absolutely love that."

"Yeah, more screaming, whining and sobbing." Jugs smirked, "well, that's what happens when they don't do their job right the first time. Somebody's got to get up in the halls of power and drop shit from above." Jug's cell phone rang. "Commander Benton." She snapped.

"Kimber?"

"Jerica? What's going on?"

"Well, hubby and the Holograms are doing a concert for the USO. Thought you would want to join us on stage for old times sake..." her sister's voice sounded excited. "Aja always keeps asking if you're ever going to come back and play keyboards with us."

"Jer, I left that world behind a long time ago. My life is the Navy and we deploy on a combat mission in three months." Kimber said warily. Sis was always trying to rope her into a return to the stage. "My CO and I have a lot of work to do to get this squadron combat ready."

"So have you told your CO how you feel about him." Jerica's tone was contriving.

Kimber rolled her eyes, "Sis, I'm at work right now and that would be grounds for an Article 32 hearing with a Conduct Unbecoming charge. I worked too damned hard for these silver oak leafs to toss them out in the trash."

"You have changed, Kimber." Jerica said sadly. She remembered a Kimber who was always guy-crazy and sometimes fell for the wrong guy. But now it seemed like Kimber was all business, no more joking, no more naïveté; she seemed older and more experienced than Jerica herself and certainly a lot more jaded, "Sometimes I don't know if I even recognize you."

Kimber sighed, her sister had always been the one enthralled with the show business spotlight. Kimber had just played along because she loved her older sister but eventually she needed more substance in her life than just playing in a band, "I grew up, Sis. I realized that there is stuff beyond Tinseltown and the glow of stage-lights and cheering crowds. I flew in combat in Bosnia flying wing protecting Tomcats on TARPs runs. Some of the pictures that came back with me, sis, would wake you up in the middle of the night screaming." She paused and when she spoke next, her voice grew hard, "Mass graves, sis, bodies upon bodies. The Serbs committed mass genocide. And we had to go in there and make them stop. I had to drop bombs on Serb villagers who were going after Croatians and Bosnian refugees. We levelled an entire city block with 2000lb LGBs because some Serbian General thought it would be a great idea to park a Shilka in a hospital cul-de-sac and we had to remove the threat to NATO air forces going in to fly air cover. Sis, that's what I've been doing just this past year so I don't miss the glitz of show business. I truly found my calling. Every time I think back to the glamor of the stage I remind myself about why I put the uniform on and fly these missions. I'm a military woman now, Jerica, a combat naval aviator with well over 5900 hrs in the F-14. I don't miss my keyboards and I wear my uniform with pride. I've done a lot, sis, including having flown in the Gulf War where I shot down an Iraqi MiG 29 Fulcrum and became a MiG Killer. So I've changed a lot from the star-struck naive kid that was playing in our band. So you're gonna have to synth the keyboards or get a replacement keyboardist. Jer."

"Alright, if that's what you want. But promise me that you and your squadron will show for the concert. You can't be that brutal a task-master to deny your squadron a little down-time."

Oh...she don't know me too well...do she? Kimber smirked, quoting Bugs Bunny in her head, "We'll see, I'm not promising anything. And the squadron better impress me and Animal or nothing doing."

"You are a harsh taskmaster... Kimber" her sister told her.

"I'm 33 years old, Jerica, I've fought and vanquished enemies in aerial combat and did my part to serve this country, and part of my job is to make sure this squadron is combat ready at all times. The next war is always just around the corner."

Jerica sighed again, "Sis, if I didn't know better, I'd be wondering who turned my sister into a clone of General George S. Patton."

"Wrong service, Sis."

"What?"

"He's Army...I'm Navy. Try Admiral Bull Halsey."

1820 hrs EST; VF-41 Black Aces Squadron Offices; NAS Oceana; Virginia Beach, VA

"Was that your sister?"

Kimber turned around to see her CO standing beside her. She gave him a heavy sigh along with a roll of her eyes nodding. Animal understood well, family could grind your gears especially immediate ones.

"Yeah...she's always trying to get me to rejoin the band. I can't seem to get through to her that I've changed in many ways from the naive teenager that used to play in her band." She snorted derisively, "I think she still thinks I'm 18 and she thinks she's 23 instead of us being 33 and 38. It's been fifteen years since 1982 and a lot of things have happened since then. I went to university in 1982, enrolled in NROTC on a whim just because I thought the uniforms were cool. Had no idea of what I was going to do until I went to an Airshow in 1984 and I saw the Navy's Blue Angels and I thought wait a minute I wanna be a naval aviator. 1986 I get commissioned as an Ensign 1988 I've made it through flight school and I'm headed for FRS and then the Black Aces. Three years later we go to war and that's what changed my perspective, that I had to deal with myself and groom myself into a naval officer and start taking my service oath seriously. Instead of not knowing what I wanted out of life. I had to figure out what I wanted out of my naval career, did I want to aspire to command, or just let the flow take me for the next twenty or however many years?"

"Well, Jugs, you've certainly come a long way from nugget to XO and I'm sure you're gonna make a good CO too. This is technically my last deployment with the squadron, I'm onto senior War College and a staff tour. After '99 you change type to the Super Hornet two-seater and you got to prep them on that yourself. In fact, I've always wondered what my place in the Navy is after the type change-over. They'd have to retrain me for type in the Rhino and that's a lot for someone who's going to be spending most of his time hanging out on the PriFly when he gets his eagles. So my question is do I really want to stay in past my twenty?"

Kimber looked at him with some concern, "You think you'll get out? I only have 12 years in technically the only reason I'm an O-5 is because the selection boards frocked me two times."

"You could go reserve until you finish your twenty if you're so inclined." Animal suggested, "But why you'd get out before completing twenty active years..." he paused, "There aren't as many slots for O-5s in the reserves. But if you want, you can try."

"It's something to think about." Animal nodded as Jugs said this. "By the way, Sis says she's doing a USO tour around the East Coast bases. Evidently the whole band is playing. And of course, Sis's hubby, being their long-time manager wanted to make sure the tour was a massive one so he suggested hitting all the major bases including Oceana. She called me asking me if I'd go on stage for old-time's sake."

"So are you?" Animal asked He'd heard Kimber sing before when the squadron got themselves wasted at the O'Club and decided to do Karaoke but never with an actual band. Kimber had a gorgeous voice and always left audiences wanting more of her singing no matter what cover she did; especially the cheers that ensued when she pulled out Shania Twain's Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under?

"Oh, hell no, XO has to keep a certain amount of dignity. And if I got up onstage with the Holograms, I'd never live it down. They'd be constantly asking me to sing Outrageous. And I have to tell you, I hate that song! It's so bloody peurile." Kimber rolled her eyes, "But I swear, back when Aja and Jer wrote that, we thought it was the best thing since sliced bread. Nowadays..." Kimber emphasized; winked at him and started singing a few lines a capella of The Colour of My Love ;her voice was soft and beautiful and the guys in the squadron leaned away from the pool table to listen in, "I prefer covering Celine Dion songs at karaoke." she said tapping Animal lightly on the nose with the pad of her right hand index finger.

The image in Animal's mind of Kimber Benton dressed in a flowing blue dress holding a microphone singing My Heart Will Go On ran through his mind for a few laps before he was able to trip it and squash it.

Thinking such thoughts about his XO was dangerous territory since Kimber was extremely attractive as well as a great combat naval aviator and her voice was absolutely gorgeous when she put it into full song.

The UCMJ would have him on an Article 92 Conduct Unbecoming so fast his head would spin if he and Kimber became involved in any way shape or form other than their formal Commanding Officer/Executive Officer relationship within the auspices of the chain of command within the Navy. Unless he and Kimber were to retire, he and she would forever be not allowed to date in any way shape or form.

Kimber on the other hand was eyeing her CO and wondering what he was thinking. And she mused with some amusement that the old Kimber was still there buried under a pile of Navy Regs and years of self discipline; the Kimber who wanted a guy that she could trust and live with in terms of his idiosyncrasies.

She had that kind of guy in her commanding officer and good friend, Tosh Nakamura. They'd flown together, they'd fought in the Gulf War together, albeit in different squadrons: he'd started out in the Black Aces, then went to RAG FRS to train new and upcoming naval aviators in the F-14A, B+ and D Tomcats.

After that, he went to the VF-241 Howlers for a period of three years.

Then he'd come back to the Black Aces and fought with them along with his protege from FRS and wingman in the Howlers Lieutenant Harmon Rabb Jr. then in 1994, he'd gone after his downed squadron mates in a pitched battle against North Korean regulars who were trying to capture his squadron-mates when they were downed in North Korean territory after doing an ill-fated TARPs run. He'd managed to get them out taking out one hundred and sixty of the North Korean soldiers in pitched battle in hand to hand combat armed only with rifles and grenades on a hill only monikered with a number, Hill 175.

Kimber was there when the ceremony at the White House happened; she was a Lieutenant Commander standing at attention and saluting as the President of the United States draped the Medal of Honor around Animal's neck.

And now they were CO and XO respectively of the VF-41 Black Aces. They'd flown as wingmen and flight-leaders on some of the most dangerous missions of the Serbian war over Bosnia. She smiled as she remembered the old Kimber Benton with the Holograms would have gone gaga over the Navy hero but the Commander Benton with two Distinguished Flying Crosses, three Navy Commendations, a Presidential Unit Citation and the veteran of seven deployments as well as 1400 combat sorties was just proud to have served with him and to be spoken of in the same revered tones as the XO that served with the famed Medal of Honor recipient and CO in their squadron and that her accomplishments were thought of as nearly on par though maybe not as risky as putting one's life at risk above and beyond the call of duty.

And it had to be said that Commander Kimber Jugs Benton did admire her commanding officer and she oft wondered if she was falling for him as she felt good whenever they spent time together going over even the mundane minutiae of squadron command duties such as logging the maintenance records of the Black Aces F-14As and how much downtime as opposed to the birds being up. She chalked it up to making sure everything was running smoothly but perhaps there was something more than that.

Did she want to stay in the regular Navy or go reserve, once he retired, to finish out her twenty and retain her pension? Why did she want to tie her career aspirations to his? It wasn't an answer that she could articulate except at home in her own quarters off-base and the Navy had forbidden any exploration of that kind of idea. Since the UCMJ could come down on them for even thinking about each other in that way they needed to tread lightly.

"A penny for your thoughts? XO?" Her squadron CO asked noting Kimber's pensive look.

"Nothing that would be best articulated, CO. I might get in a bit of trouble with the JAG." Kimber said enigmatically as her CO's eyebrows raised. That would keep him wondering.

"Who'd get in trouble with the JAG?" Animal and Kimber both rolled their eyes. Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Jr's voice was clearly heard as he made his presence known Harm had just come back to the Judge Advocate General Corps from the Raptors. The Raptors were flying combat missions over the same territory that the Black Aces had been flying months earlier; still taking sporadic ground fire but the Aces had eliminated most of the heavy AA (anti-aircraft) artillery and SAMs (Surface to Air Missiles)

"Nobody...speculation...". Kimber rapidly said. Looking over at the mille-rind on the lieutenant commander's left collar, she raised an eyebrow sending the junior officer a drop-the-subject warning glance. Even though Harm had three years on Kimber in the service, she still was the one wearing silver oak leafs and well, in the United States Navy, silver oak leafs trumped gold so she was the senior officer and Harm considered the subject dropped. "So, what brings you to NAS Oceana? Just nosing around? Wanted to hang out; catch the sea breeze, watch the airplanes?" She raised an eye-brow.

"We're investigating an incident where an F-14 traded paint with a F-5E" Kimber rolled her eyes at that. She'd heard that a Sundowners Tomcat had come back with a smear of blue from hitting the port wing of an F-5E which had gone in killing the Tiger II pilot. It had been reported in from the Cylons end but not from VF-111's last she heard, the Sundowners junked the wing, replacing it with a wing from the squadron's resident hangar queen until they could attach a fresh wing to the bird. All good as new, supposedly none-the-wiser.

"Heard a Sundowners 'cat traded paint, it was none of ours." Kimber said shortly and as dismissively as possible.

His Marine partner followed up with, "The Sundowners' CO told us it was your squadron." Her voice held a triumphant tone of someone catching the respondent in a lie. Kimber caught the inference and reached flash-point.

"Our maintenance records are open book. You see the records from One Eleven or are you just speculating?" Kimber snapped. "Lieutenant Colonel?" Kimber had been in rank a full year over the former Marine attorney major and didn't have time for unsubstantiated accusations. "Go down to our maintenance and check and see if we have any cosmetic touchups for the week of the incident and then go back and harass the Sundowners because..." Kimber stepped into the personal space of the Marine with the imperious unflinching gaze of a higher time-in-rank O-5 who knew she was higher in the pecking order. "I'll guarantee that someone is hiding something and it is not the Black Aces. Understand? LIEUTENANT COLONEL?!" The last was a whip-lash of a verbal remonstration with an implicit do your fucking job correctly! staff puke!

Harm winced while Animal grinned at him as he shrugged his shoulders. Kimber could chew someone's head off if she had to and woe betide the lower ranking fuzzbutt who crossed her. "We'll go check the maintenance records, ma'am, let's go." Pulling the bristling Marine Lieutenant Colonel away from the equally seething red-headed Navy Commander, Harm hastened to go implement the Navy Commander's suggestion.

It was twenty minutes later that both Animal and Kimber saw Harm and Mac step out of their hangars and head straight towards the VF-111 squadron hangars with a few MPs in tow. Animal knew that some serious shit was going to hit the fan for VF-111.

Commander Darren "Skunky" Whittle had always been a renegade but Animal had never thought he'd stoop to blaming another squadron for their mistake. Skunky was in a big deal of shit and it wasn't going to look good for him.

"I'm surprised she got up that far in rank if she's going to jump to conclusions like that." Kimber snarled, still testy. She was not impressed. The Black Aces owned up to their mistakes and so far their safety record was impeccable because of their stringent qualification procedures, taking only the cream of the crop when it came to candidates for the squadron and tossing those that didn't meet their requirements. It was about two hours later that Harm came back to the Black Aces offices/hangar and said they had arrested those responsible over at VF-111. Jugs was still seething and it was lucky that LCOL Mackenzie wasn't anywhere near her or she would quite probably go incandescent nuclear. "Maybe she should investigate further instead of taking the word of someone untrustworthy and making false accusations that could potentially ruin careers." She stopped short of telling Harm to tell his investigative partner to go take a long walk on 5R/23L which just so happened to be active.

"LCDR Rabb, you may be junior in rank to your investigative partner" Jugs seethed, "But if your superior is going off barking up the wrong tree, then perhaps your job is to dissuade them of doing so unless she wants to find herself a job in records in Marine Judge Advocate Division Twenty-Nine Stumps." She looked at the phone meaningfully. "All it takes is one phone-call."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Dismissed!" Kimber snapped out.

"Aye-Aye, ma'am." Harm knew a dismissal when he heard one and quickly made himself scarce. And seeing as how Animal made no attempts to save his ass from his XO's chew-out, then perhaps he was in the wrong to not have told his superior to "stand-down". In fact his very positioning of himself at Commander Benton's 0730 position marked him as prepared to back up his XO.

NAS Oceana Parking Lot, NAS Oceana, Virginia Beach, VA

Harm pondered that all the way out to the Navy Crown Victoria where he met up with Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie who was still bristling at the perceived slight from the red-headed Commander. He was more than willing now to set her straight on the situation.

"Permission to speak freely, ma'am." Harm asked respectfully.

"Permission granted…though I know you're going to speak your mind regardless." Mac looked at him with a wary glance.

"Ma'am" Harm said slowly calculating his words carefully so as not to tread the very edge of insubordination. "You saw her ribbons?"

"What about them?" Sure enough, Mac had only glanced briefly at them.

"Ma'am you noticed the navy blue and white striped ribbon on her rack?"

Mac nodded, "The Admiral has one. So?"

"There's a high standard, a code of conduct that Navy Cross winners have to adhere to. Mac, that award is second only to the Medal of Honor." Harm informed her trying to bring home the import of the amount of shit that was about to cascade over her head. "Ma'am, you impugned the honor of a Navy Cross winner. Do you seriously know just how much trouble that will get you into?"

Mac mumbled something that Harm couldn't hear.

"Mac, seriously, the Admiral hears about this, he's going to have your head on a platter." He didn't choose to tell her that CDR Benton was seriously thinking about going over his head using her connections in the Pentagon and having her assigned as a Marine Judge Advocate at MCAS Twenty-Nine Palms. "Blue button recipients are untouchable when it comes to things like this."

"If he'd been the one to do it, would you be telling me this?" Mac raised an question that made Harm think for a long moment.

"You saw what happened with Commander Hochhausen. I may not like what I did, but it had to be done ".

But this is different" Mac objected. "Can you pull the trigger on a man you consider your brother from a different mother."

Harm wondered if he could. Was his oath as an officer worth the cost of his friendship? A man who had trained him on the F-14 Tomcat, who shielded him during Desert Storm and was someone he turned to when he needed advice.

The likelihood of stepping wrong was negligible for Animal, Harm thought. But it was a minute percentage and Harm knew to never say never.

Mac gave voice to suspicions. "You know the VF-41 CO and XO were standing pretty close. You sure there isn't something going on between the two of them?"

"No, Commander Nakamura wouldn't. There's too much at stake if he does." Harm shook his head. The simple fact was he was also getting some interesting vibes from Commanders Benton and Nakamura but he wrote it off as the two worked together closely to run an efficient squadron. That's what it was….

Wasn't it?

Ab least that's what they hoped. You couldn't prosecute for thoughts; only actions. Harm wanted to think that his mentor wasn't doing the horizontal tango with his exec. The act itself would bring about ramifications that would result in an court-martial of the two involved. But it would also send waves down the award community as both Animal and Kimber held some very high awards for valor. Animal's being both the Medal of Honor and Navy Cross and Kimber holding the Navy Cross.

Hill 175 was talked about in hushed tones of awe while the Navy Crosses were earned over the skies of Bosnia when the Serbs sent up MiGs and Sukhois to outnumber a TR air cover of a Bosnian refugee caravan. Again it appeared as fate had intervened as CO and XO were in the air together. The CO was on patrol and XO was ready five when the number two bird went belly-up on the cat, XO was given the green light to launch. Animal and Kimber dove headlong into a blitz of Strelas strafing the Serbian shooters and protecting the convoy. The Serbs in their zeal to down the two American F-14s, actually shot down three of their own MiGs in a frenzied attempt to get at the aircraft protecting the Bosnian refugees.

Harm thought to himself, Maybe Animal's and Kimber's Navy Crosses exploit was the action that Buxton was trying to emulate. Well he sure did a piss poor job of it. When you can't ID the target, you don't shoot and Buxton's miscalculation caused an international incident with the Russians.

The man Harm knew as his mentor was as strait-laced as they came; by the book-following, regs-spouting but you listened when he talked because when you saw his "been there; done that" it was quite self-evident that he knew what he was talking about and that knowledge came from a world of experience.

The ride back to Falls Church was quiet as both Of them pondered what was going on insofar as those telltale signs they'd observed. And body language tended to give things away in terms of not only infidelity, but whether someone was trying to cover up a problem.

1735 hrs , Offices of the VF-41 Black Aces, NAS Oceana, Virginia Beach, VA,

"Think we should knock off for today?" Jugs asked.

"Naw, have a few more files to deal with. Promotion orders need to be in next month. Have to send those in or the five-sided shit-house will send us a whiny why are you holding up advancement in the ranks letter to rap my knuckles and tell me of my shameful lack of adherence to promotion standards expected by the grand pooh-bahs in the Halls of Power."

Kimber chuckled wryly, "And you mean I get to do this after you get called to an exalted staff position in those same Halls of Power of the Five Sided Shit-House on the Potomac; in hopes of gaining stars?" She shook her head, "Ever wonder if it's all worthwhile?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean is it worth all the headaches just to get your twenty in?"

Animal looked at Kimber for a long moment drawing out his thoughts before speaking. " There are days, Jugs, but…the Navy is my life. I don't know what I'd do outside." He paused as if in thought then asked a rhetorical question not expecting an answer. "What am I really able to do outside the Navy?" He looked out the window, as a Hornet taxied by in the distance; his office having a clear view of the flight-line. "The Navy trained me to be an aerial weapon, to kill other people in planes. What sort of related skills does that transfer to, on the outside?" He scoffed for a moment, "I'm sure the interviewer will not take kindly to: I can get in a plane and kill other people as an answer to: What skills can you bring to the table for our company?"

"No, I guess not" Kimber laughed. Animal's dry sarcasm and his wit were two of the things that attracted her to her commanding officer. "How many years do you need for your twenty?"

"My date pf commissioning was oh-six-twenty-six nineteen eighty."

"So…. Roughly another year."

"Yup, so by the time I get finished this command tour, I'll have twenty-one years in." Animal answered as he finally closed the last file on his desk and slipped it in the out tray on his desk for CMC Trebalos to pick up in the morning. "I may do my full forty but it all depends if I feel like actually going out and looking for a job on the outside." If it came to that, he'd probably work as a civilian contractor to the military for one of the big names like Lockheed or Boeing. He'd heard they made really good money and a position like that would set him up with a six figure income. But the feel of the control stick at his fingertips was a lure that fueled a desire to stay in, but rationally, he knew his flying days were numbered; maybe another three years after his command stint with the potential after his shore tour to go to O-6. "All depends…" he trailed off.

Kimber nodded, but the words that Jerica used still reverberated through her mind: Have you told him how you feel yet? But she knew that would be sticking a stake in her own career. The life of a career Navy woman was a lonely one; finding someone who shared the same interests; that understood the thrill of being at the controls of a jet fighter that was able to go two point four times the speed of sound, to be able to mix it up in the air one-on-one - that kind of mate could only be found in the military. Where else could you find someone like that who wasn't a naval aviator in fast jets who flew line aviation and had experience operating off the deck of a flat-top.

Damn Jerica! Now the thought of her commanding officer ran laps through her thoughts. Kimber looked over at her commanding officer and admired him surreptitiously making sure he didn't catch her gazing at him in admiration and undisguised desire. After all, she tried to emulate him in his actions, strove to be like him in her own career. And her gaze wandered down to his rack, the five white stars arranged in an M shape placed in a field of sky-blue. Everyone in the military knew what that ribbon was.

Kimber often wondered if Animal would thrive outside the confines of the US Navy's regimented lifestyle. Their life was a series of orders punctuated by six to seven month long cruises to the Mediterranean Sea where they would conduct air superiority missions or combat missions against targets in Serbia and Bosnia-Herzegovina.

It seemed to her that her commanding officer looked more alive when he was going up the ladder into his F-14A, than he ever did going through the minutiae of squadron command. He was a man who lived for flying. Of communing with the birds and the clouds as he made his way at altitude at a velocity of six hundred twenty-five knots airspeed.

On the rare times that Jugs flew as his wingman, she always admired the prowess with which her CO flew. In the groove there was imperceptible wing-rock; his adjustments so fine and coordinated as though he was locked into glide-path by an invisible tether guided to a green three-wire. He flew with economy of motion and he was absolutely a killer in the air, adept at aerial combat having downed three enemy aircraft. He was unrivaled by those he flew with setting a benchmark for others to achieve. He flew as though the F-14 was an extension of his body and that was what Kimber loved about her commanding officer; that he was what aviators called a natural pilot. New techniques and flying skills came easily to him. But he was never cocky about it. In fact he'd always intone an old saw: There are old pilots and there are bold pilots, but there are no old bold pilots because the law of averages would eventually catch up and knock them from the sky.

A marked contrast from Commander Gary Hochhausen; who was as arrogant as they came. She'd heard about Hawk losing his wings. He'd exhibited a callous disregard and showed not a single bit of remorse for the lives of the mother and child he took when his Tomcat slammed into the Nevada desert right into the vehicle the woman was driving.

By this time Animal had finished his work and looked up to see Kimber still there leaning against the door, watching him, a small smile playing across her lips.

"Jugs…"

Kimber seemed to be lost in her thoughts.

"Jugs?"

Still no answer.

"Commander Benton!" Animal raised his voice a little.

"Oh geez!" Kimber startled, "I'm sorry, sir. I must have gotten lost in my thoughts for a while."

"It's late, Kimber, you should have headed home by now." He gently admonished her. "Do you need me to walk you to your car?"

She looked at him with another one of those smiles she'd had on her face leaning against the door, "I'd appreciate that, sir."

"You going to be alright to drive?" A gentle tease.

"I should…" she left off letting her statement hang in the air unfinished so the listener could send it any direction he chose.

He smiled and Kimber smiled back; at least he hadn't said the customary red light.

But that was as far as the UCMJ allowed and while they were in uniform that was as far as Kimber was willing to take it. It was essentially a brief walk out to her SUV and as they came to a halt, Kimber turned to her CO and saluted him, as per formal protocol, "Goodnight, sir, I'll see you tomorrow." Even though he was of equal rank to her, she was still the exec and he was the commanding officer.

"0600 sharp." Animal grinned at her, returning her salute. "Goodnight, XO".

"Goodnight, sir" and with a mutual unsaid signal, broke off their salutes and turned towards their cars. The XO's and CO's vehicle spaces were marked side by side.

It wasn't much of a drive either both were housed in the base BOQ to save money, but they had to drive separate vehicles to keep up appearances. It would not look good to the CAG of CVW-12 to see one of his squadron's XOs getting a ride with the CO to work or vice-versa.

There was the perception of propriety that the military upheld and as such, one did not do anything that could purportedly bring disrepute to the United States Naval Service.

JAG - A Crush on You (An Animal/Other fic).

'A Crush On You'

Author: CdnJAGScribe

E-mail:

Rating: M

Classification: Animal/Other R;

Spoilers: None, except whatever comes out of the author's demented mind...

Summary: [Stand-Alone Animal/Other fic] Animal's getting tired of being single...and a crush develops between him and an enlisted navy female Yeoman Second Class but he knows that relationships with enlisted are forbidden under the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ). The Yeoman, on the other hand, has a plan to bring them together.

Author's note: This story idea ended up starting out in 1999…and sat unfinished for almost twenty years. Finally after my internet connection got cut…my muse decides to go… "Oh…let's finish this one…" (lethal look at muse); Well… those of you who were on Onelist message board and may have remembered the teaser…well…Hope it was worth the twenty year wait. ~smirk~

Disclaimers: The characters Harmon Rabb, Jr., Sarah Mackenzie, AJ Chegwidden, et al. belong in concept and name to CBS/Bellisarius. No profit is being made from this story, nor is any infringement intended. Yadda yadda yadda…bork bork bork… - ok…who let the Swedish chef in here?!~

VF-41 OFFICES; NAS OCEANA; VIRGINIA BEACH, VA; Monday, January 5th 1998

It was now 1710 hrs; she noticed as she looked up to eye the clock on the wall taking a moment from her task at hand to note the lateness of the day. It appeared that yet again she was going to be pulling another long shift. Mondays…that fat orange cartoon cat had a good point. Yeoman Second Class Eileen Forrest sighed as she put away another file; one out of the many still sitting on the desk waiting; the large pile seemed to sit there mocking her attempts to get this done as quickly and as efficiently as possible. A petite brunette with dark eyes, deep enough to melt in, and a cheerfully perky smile, Eileen was pixie-ish on the cuteness scale. At least ninety-nine point nine percent of the time she could be counted on to be bubbly and cheerful, but today was a stretch. Lieutenant Commander Kimberly Benton had dumped at least sixty files on her at about 4:30 in the afternoon and told her to "Here you are; Yeoman Two; file to your heart's content"; a great excuse for almost losing her cool and going 'postal'. This wasn't the first time that LCDR Benton had dropped work on her late in the afternoon and it was starting to get to be old news however, as the lieutenant commander was an officer and she was an enlisted; Eileen could only say, "Yes, Ma'am…" and hop to the task; hoping that it wouldn't be dark by the time she stepped out of the building to head for the Oceana Bus Loop for her ride home.

Yeoman Third Class Danyelle Parker, longtime friend, grinned as she walked past Eileen with a cup of coffee; a smirk on her face. "Life not getting any easier? Eileen?" YN3 Parker asked knowing full well that Eileen was not a happy camper at this moment.

"No..." Eileen grumbled. "Another forty-nine files to go..." Eileen said as she jammed another file 'Burrows' between Burroughs and Cartwright which happened to be the other file. DAMNIT...MISFILE! Yanking out Lieutenant Commander Dale Cartwright's file, she correctly filed it in the 'C's between Callaghan and Conway. She was just about ready to throw up her hands and give up when Danyelle inhaled audibly. That caught Eileen's interest.

"You hear about our new commanding officer?" Danyelle hissed in a stage-whisper; her eyes fixed on Eileen with a conspiratorial glance. Eileen eyed her; Danyelle just noticed that we have a new Commander? He's been in command for the past three months. C'mon, Danyelle; get with the program.

"Harm, so, how are the accident investigations going down here? I take it both you and Mac had to investigate VF-14 for the third time in three months? It seems like VF-14 has seen more than its share of the operational accidents since you're down here investigating them again. Luckily we haven't had that problem with VF-41…" The two officers walked in chatting to each other just as Danyelle finished talking.

"Well, you run a tight squadron, Animal. I don't doubt that's the reason why you're not getting airplanes dropping out of the skies…" the taller Lieutenant Commander said. "You're always on maintenance's ass."

"There's a reason, Harm, that I'm always riding maintenance's ass. F-14s cost thirty-six mill apiece…and the Pentagon'll have a shit-fit if we drop one in the drink. Something happens on my watch; the responsibility falls on me and I have no desire for my career to end at O-5…" The Commander grinned back at the taller Lieutenant Commander.

Eileen inhaled. Both of them were soooo cute. The senior officer was Asian, a commander in rank and surprisingly he looked a few years younger than the taller O-4 Lieutenant Commander; the O-5 was a bit older than herself probably about seven possibly ten or so years. Evidently Asians always looked younger than their age, she thought. The Lieutenant Commander was so tall and handsome; so was the Commander, she thought to herself and both so forbidden to me as an enlisted woman. She could only dream…about them…only in her wildest dreams could she conceive of them even looking at her as an enlisted.

But she thought; even though the visiting Lieutenant Commander was a dreamboat, she had always leaned towards the Asian USN Commander ever since she and Danyelle had transferred into the VF-41 front office three years ago. She'd always had a crush on him even before he'd taken over command of the squadron. He had that wonderful friendly open face which was unusual for an O-5. Most of the time O-5 Commanders were grumpy assholes quick to snarl, but he wasn't. He was generally cheerful ninety percent of the time which made going to work a joy especially when she and the Commander crossed paths; she'd rarely ever seen him angry or dressing down anyone unless they really pissed him off; it took a lot to make him angry and that was usually only doing something that contravened the Uniform Code of Military Justice – the UCMJ or when chewing out flight-crew when they'd done something that would usually end up resulting in what was called a Fleet Naval Aviator Evaluation Board; a FNAEB pronounced FEE NAB – that was when someone screwed up majorly in the air nearly causing what officers called an incident or more aptly…damned near crashing, trading paint or as the commander oft-said, nearly digging a hole.

Eileen had often seen the Commander as an XO when he was going out to the flight-line to go fly his F-14 Tomcat dressed in full flight-gear, carrying his flight-helmet with his call-sign on the back of the helmet…Animal outlined in red and black and she practically drooled over how hot he looked; a dashing naval aviator; the type of pilot that she'd always dreamed of marrying; a fighter pilot. She often wondered how he got that call-sign…the little devil on her shoulder taunted her: You just wanna know if he's an Animal in the sack. She pitch-forked the little shit off her shoulder and told him to Shut the hell up!

And to now know that he was the new Commanding Officer of VF-41 and the heap of responsibility that he was taking on his shoulders. That was even more exciting to know that he was a very capable CO who kept on top of things which was one of the reasons why their squadron was leading in efficiency ratings for the entire Atlantic Fleet. The efficiency rating was boosted to the top of the Atlantic Fleet scores within three months of his taking command. It was one of the reasons why Eileen tried to do her very best for the new Commanding Officer of the VF-41 Black Aces; to always make sure that reports were done on time; to make certain that whatever was needed in the front office was always requisitioned on time and supplies were always kept on hand. She was only one of a number of Yeoman staff and she wanted to do something to make herself stand out from the crowd so she worked long hours; made even longer by studying at home through correspondence to try to get a degree and tried to do whatever she could to increase the efficiency rating of the squadron by making sure that everything ran efficiently in the front office. And she hoped that one of these days that he'd notice her efforts.

Eileen noticed that the two officers both had on the Naval Aviator brown leather jackets; the G-1s which were allowed to be worn in winter along with working khakis which appeared to be used year round in naval aviation circles which looked oh so hot. The same jacket that Tom Cruise wore in Top Gun, but Eileen thought that the Commander wore his so well; even better than Tom Cruise. The patches of squadrons that he'd been with decorated the back of his jacket and the VF-41 patch was on the front right breast of the jacket. His leather embossed nametag decorated the left. She also recognized the Top Gun roundel patch, the one that had the MiG that was in the gun-sight with the words: United States Navy Fighter Weapons School embroidered around its circumference; it was also on his flight-suit as well. She smiled wistfully as she saw it and thought He's a Topgun School graduate. The rumor making the rounds of the squadron enlisted personnel was that their squadron commander was also a MiG Killer…over Iraq shooting down two enemy aircraft, reputedly a MiG 29 and a Su-27; so he'd done that too and an F-15J over Japan prior to that. He was such a capable naval aviator; Eileen thought; a MiG Killer and a man with an awesome ability to fly one of the hottest high-performance fighters in the United States Navy. Eileen resisted inhaling her breath again sharply as she wished once again that he'd notice her.

On her breaks she'd go out to the flight-line…just standing by the door looking at the F-14s parked on the tarmac especially looking for the ones he flew…and she wished that she could get up close to the F-14 that the Commander did fly just to see if the scuttlebutt was right and whether his aircraft had kill markings painted on it, but security was tight on the flight-line and she didn't dare step over the no-go line. His F-14 prior to taking over the squadron was Fast Eagle 102, the XO's bird. Now he was flying One Zero One…the CO's bird. The CO's bird and the CAG bird, which was One Zero Zero, were the ones that had the high-visibility markings, the markings that were painted on the aircraft in color and they were beautiful. To know that her CO had the skill to fly these beautiful aircraft and go to war in them was so awe-inspiring.

And when the flight-crews came back from what he called "bumping"; they were drenched, their hair sopping wet with sweat; evidently it was a work-out flying aerial combat. And he'd walk through quickly heading for the shower; the flight-suits were soaked and so was he with sweat but even when he walked past, it wasn't smelly like some of the others who flew; some of them would cause people to nearly pass out from the stench; but he just smelt musky. And Eileen would swoon thinking about what it would be like to see him shower; to see his muscular body unclothed under the streams of water – of course her mind often wandered and wondered what it would be like to share that shower with him but of course she had to squelch that desire down; as an enlisted woman, that was strictly forbidden. She knew that he had a muscular body because when he wore service dress khakis with the short sleeves and award ribbons; his biceps were rippling with muscle. Yes, she had a major crush on her commanding officer, but well, he rarely stopped to talk. He was pretty much all business…and outside of the occasional friendly greeting, they had never talked much at all. But then again that wasn't unusual. She was enlisted and he was an officer and never shall the two meet; at least in any other setting other than a strictly professional work environment.

She sighed deeply as she looked over the files that she was supposed to be filing. She figured that instead of drooling over the Commander, that she'd better get busy with filing the rest of the files or she'd be here all night.

"Will you take a look at those two..." Danyelle hissed as she nudged Eileen. "I'd like to make some sweet music with that tall Lieutenant Commander." She grinned back at Eileen.

Eileen tried to choke down a snort of laughter. Danyelle could be counted on to always elicit some lascivious comment. "Get a grip on yourself, Danyelle..." Eileen said. "If those officers..."

"Excuse me...Yeoman Two." A voice in front of her said. Eileen looked up, startled to see a set of working khakis, their collar-points showing commander's rank pins and a set of naval aviator wings about her eye level. He was tall at five ten; considerably taller than her five even.

"SIR!" Eileen snapped to attention as did Danyelle, who had by this time, thankfully, bitten her tongue. Eileen looked up into the highly amused face of Commander Toshio "Animal" Nakamura who had a big grin on his face. She recognized the name, it was her Commanding Officer, the one that she had a serious crush on; she could see that by the name-tag. He was one of the two that had just walked in. The other officer who was referred to by the Commander as Harm was standing with his arm draped over one of the other filing cabinets wearing a wide grin that gave him chipmunk cheeks as he watched the reaction that Animal's closeness to the YN2 was causing to the poor enlisted female. Eileen noticed that Harm had a single gold oak leaf on his right collar and a JAG mill-rinde staff officer's pin on the other and surprisingly, also naval aviator wings above his ribbon rack which was unusual to see a staff officer wearing one of those; she wondered about the history behind that. But curiosity would have to wait. Her commanding officer wanted to speak with her…and if she could put one word in front of the other, maybe she could speak to him without tripping over her words and making a fool out of herself.

Harm grinned widely as he watched Eileen stammer; evidently she had an infatuation with his friend here. Of course it was not allowed but he knew that neither his friend nor the young enlisted, she looks in her mid-twenties, Harm thought, would ever dare to cross that line of the UCMJ.

"Do you usually work this late?" Eileen heard her CO ask.

"Yes, sir." Eileen answered 'His cologne, his eyes…and oh…god; that smile…' she thought to herself. Blushing furiously, she tried to cover her interest. If her back hadn't been against that filing cabinet, she would have slid to the floor, for the lack of support her legs were giving her.

"I'll have to see about that..." Animal replied, looking over at Harm who nodded while still wearing that pie-eating grin. "Those files can wait until tomorrow. YN2, Why don't you and the YN3 go home? Relax. It's too nice of a winter afternoon to be hanging out here and I'm sure you're famished." Animal grinned a wide charming grin that caused Eileen's legs to turn to water.

Oh, I'm famished alright, but not for food…Eileen tried to stop herself from pursuing that line of thought as she looked back at her CO. Oh god, the things he does to me…when he grins like that… Eileen thought to herself. I hope it's not showing on my face because I'll be in soooo much trouble. "But, sir...Lieutenant Commander Benton wanted..." Eileen protested.

"Lieutenant Commander Benton just loves to hand out work." Animal grinned wryly. "It just so happens that I have her slotted for hops all day tomorrow. So with any luck, you won't see hide nor hair of her until day after tomorrow."

Harm grinned. He liked the way that Animal ran his squadron. Tight but not taut. Relaxed, yet efficient. And Lieutenant Commander Benton was starting to get quite hard-assed. Maybe she did have to learn to ease off a bit.

"Thank you, sir." Eileen replied. 'If only I could...snap out of it, Eileen, you can't ask an officer if he would be interested in going out with you...you'll just end up on charges of fraternization with an officer and a charge of conduct unbecoming. You'll end up destroying his career as well as your own.' The arguments tumbled through her mind as she gathered her purse.

As they headed towards the main gate and the bus-loop unfortunately in the dark; LCDR Benton had seen to that; their breath showing in the cold January air; YN3 Danyelle Parker smirked at YN2 Eileen Forrest as she commented with a conniving grin on her face "I think the commander was checking out your body. Eileen. He's cute. So's the Lieutenant Commander. The Lieutenant Commander is a dream...if...only..."

Eileen winced. "Shut up...Danyelle."

"You must like him...our CO…the Commander…" Danyelle continued smirking, prodding her friend. "He wouldn't get you so hot and bothered if he didn't arouse you."

"Danyelle!" Eileen growled ominously. Danyelle could see that her friend was getting hot under the collar.

"What?"

"SHUT UP!"

Danyelle grinned as she saw her friend to the bus. Eileen looked like a little volcano about ready to explode. She must really be infatuated with the commander, Danyelle concluded, if I can get a rouse out of her like that

BACK HOME, BOQ, NAS OCEANA, VIRGINIA BEACH, VA

Animal sighed as he got in the door. He hadn't realized how much YN2 Eileen Forrest would linger on his mind; her brunette locks of hair in a regulation length bob; her beautiful brown eyes; her gorgeously heart-shaped face; she wore very little make-up, a light eye-liner and a natural eye-shadow – to keep within Navy Regs but he could tell that she was a looker when dressed to the nines with a body that even the unflattering enlisted uniform couldn't hide – she had an incredible figure and such a sweet personality but she was OFF-LIMITS. The thought, the vision of her tantalized his mind. Animal mumbled to himself "Snap out of it...Animal…you're looking for trouble if you even think of her in that way…" Fraternization regulations were absolutely strict and dalliances by an officer with an enlisted were not tolerated in the least. He hadn't worked his way up the officer ranks to squander his Navy career away because he couldn't control his own hormones. Wearing the rank of commander for the first time in August, 1994, he had now been a three-striper for almost three and a half years and having finished his XO tour took over from his old friend and superior, Commander Dale 'Rattler' Kinnick, the previous CO. He sighed, "Being single sucks" he morosely muttered under his breath.

Officers could only go out with officers. Enlisted were restricted to enlisted. And neither was allowed to date out of their rank structure, much less within the same chain of command. That was strictly verboten. Yet, Eileen's image danced before him like a tantalizing pixie that refused to go away.

He went to the bathroom sink, ran the cold water and stuck his head under the running water to see if it would douse the amatory flames that seemed to rush through his body at the thought of her.

It didn't work.

EILEEN'S HOME; NORFOLK, VA

Eileen sighed as she slipped out of her uniform; the sound of the running water in the bathtub masked her frustrated sigh. As she looked in the mirror, she saw her own image, a tight body, nice pert breasts and a physique that should and would entice any man. But she just had to fall for the unattainable ones: the officers. And they would remain unattainable unless she became one of them.

What caused officers to be so irresistible? Was it their dress whites? Was it the way that their officers cap devices gleamed in the sunlight while on parade; especially that new commander's one – he kept them nicely polished and professional looking. During the change of command ceremony, she had noticed him in his dress whites, along with the big rack of full-size medals, saying formally with dignity and official bearing to the outgoing former CO of the VF-41 Black Aces "Commander, I relieve you, sir…" as he was piped aboard as incoming Commanding Officer, VF-41 Black Aces. He had one row of ribbon-only awards above his right breast pocket and the twelve full-size medals that covered his left breast pocket; the medals she could only dream about – Distinguished Flying Cross; Air Medal, Silver Star, Navy Commendation Medal, Navy/Marine Corps Medal were just a few of them. Her new commanding officer was a walking Navy Medal Encyclopedia, he had won so many of them…and the gold wings; oh those gold Naval Aviator wings. Eileen had dreamt about marrying a pilot ever since she was a young girl fantasizing about what her wedding would be like. The very sight of those gold wings on the new commander's uniform made her hunger. He had won the Navy's second highest medal for valor, the Navy Cross…and she wasn't sure if she'd seen the top decoration in the Navy for valor around his neck or not; the Medal that they referred to with the capital M: the sky blue ribbon that went around the neck to attach the Medal to the wearer; the Medal itself with an upside down gold plated star engraved with Minerva Repulsing Discord linked to a sky blue hexagonal anchor shield with thirteen embroidered white stars on it: the Navy Medal of Honor - the one which had the criteria starting with "For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity; at the imminent risk of one's life, above and beyond the call of duty…". She was too focused on his face to notice and it had escaped her if he did have it.

Eileen sighed again. So, this was the only way that she was going to be able to date an officer. She would have to become an officer herself. Yes, maybe, that was it. 'If I go through Officer Candidate School...' Eileen thought to herself. 'I'll be an officer.' Then another thought ran through her mind, giving her pause. 'But...what if he meets someone else in the interim and forgets about me - the course runs for twenty-two weeks…' Eileen hesitated for a brief moment. Then her mind was made up. She'd jump for the opportunity to become an officer. To be able to serve in a capacity that she knew that she was capable of with her skills and the newly acquired knowledge that she was studying via university through correspondence and she was nearly complete: the last course which she had left was one she had taken the final exam for and was just waiting for the results and she would be done with the necessary courses to complete her baccalaureate degree which was a pre-requisite to going to OCS. She was so close to her university degree; hopefully the result could come in by the end of this week and if she managed to pass that exam, she was pretty sure she'd aced it; she would graduate then she could go on to OCS and get commissioned. To be able to wear the officer's uniform and have the rank rings on her sleeves. That was ego-filling; though she wasn't the type to be bigheaded about it.

"It's worth a shot." Eileen said out loud to herself as she slipped into the nice hot bath water letting it soothe her aches from being on her feet all day. "At least, even if things don't work out, I'll have become an officer and that opens up a lot more doors for me." Maybe it would all work out in the end. Eileen sighed again, as she soaked in the toasty warm water and let her mind wander. Leaning back to submerge her head to her ears, tilting her chin up slightly so that the water could reach the top of her forehead, her hands making sure that the water moved through her hair soaking it completely so that she could wash it; she wondered what would it be like to share a bath with him feeling his hands around me…letting him touch-…oh…god…stop right there…she grimaced shaking her head, Damn it…my mind is going places that I don't want it to and I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight because I'll be too damned horny to sleep; she admonished herself as she grabbed her shampoo bottle.

The dust and grime that collected, regardless of how many times it was swept and or dusted, was part and parcel of working at an active Naval Air Station during the winter time…it annoyingly ended up collecting in her hair by the end of the day and she wanted to feel clean. Of course lathering her hair, feeling her own fingers working the shampoo through her hair made her mind wander off to places that were even more troublesome; her mind decided to tempt her even more by making her think about feeling Tosh's hands in my hair; he's Tosh to me when I'm at home away from the office, not Commander Nakamura; to have his hands washing my hair for me and making passionate love to him in the shower…Her mind kept wandering around places that she didn't want it to go to; I wonder what it would be like…to feel his…oh god…nope, I'm definitely not going to be able to sleep tonight

Eileen rolled her eyes; her own mind was even worse than Danyelle's over-sexed hormones and lascivious comments and it drove her practically nuts. Rinsing off her hair, she let out another frustrated sigh and then started applying conditioner as she went through in her mind what she would have to do in order to make her plans come to fruition. By the time she had washed off the rest of her body and got out of the bath and dried off, she had not only worked out a plan, but she was straight up going to be practically in heat by the time she was done. That was how aroused, she'd made herself with her thoughts about the Commander. She rolled her eyes in frustration.

She was going to have to get that request for an OCS recommendation in just so that she'd be diverted and distracted by officer training to take her mind off her Commanding Officer's body at least for twenty two weeks, and it took her a day to figure out how to approach him to do so going over several scenarios in her mind so that she would be prepared to face him. A bit of good news came on that day that she was figuring out how to approach her CO. The results of her final exam came in the mail and she pretty much aced the exam obtaining a 98% final exam grade and an A+ for a final course grade. And the university had sent her final degree transcripts to her along with her Bachelor's degree diploma; yay for distance education. She wouldn't have to worry about a graduation ceremony since she was in the service and had no time for going to a graduation ceremony with the demands of her career. But least she'd be able to show her CO that she'd received her degree.

TWO MORNINGS LATER; JANUARY 7, 1998

"Sir, respectfully request permission to speak to you in private, sir." YN2 Eileen Forrest asked; her voice slightly hesitant. Thing were slowly getting back to normal after the holiday rush and New Year's celebrations, but they were an operational Navy unit and holiday doldrums were not allowed on the clock.

"Come in..." the commander sounded pre-occupied but made time for her; he always did with regards to official Navy business. He looked up as she stepped into the room. She was in the uniform of the day which happened to be dress blues – she had on the blue sailor's tunic with the enlisted flap over the collar; the rating mark on her left arm signifying her rating was neatly sewn on and clean. Her tunic was well-pressed, the seams crisply ironed. The officers ended up having to wear shoulder marks to identify their rank when their coats with the rank rings on the sleeves were off. All the officers wore their dress blues when that was specified as the uniform of the day.

Eileen strode into his office and squared off in front of his desk at regulation distance. "YN2 Eileen Forrest, sir…needing to speak to the commander on a matter of professional development, sir." She stated formally.

Eileen looked over at Commander Nakamura who looked magnificent in his shoulder marks, the three gold stripes of a commander and the upside down star of a line-officer, his tie neatly pressed. She couldn't resist giving him the once-over. His white long-sleeve shirt with shoulder-marks was ironed with crisp seams, sharp creases; the rest of the shirt neat and smooth. Her eyes went to his coat…he had a large rack of ribbons on his uniform coat that was hanging on the coat rack in his office: at least five rows of ribbons and from what she could see he had gone through a lot because most of them were ribbons that had accompanying full-size medals worn with dress whites. It was just a cursory inspection and a lot of the ribbons were colorful with a lot of vertical lines in different colors. The prettiest one was that sky blue one; a field of sky blue with five white stars. That was the ribbon for the Medal of Honor…she thought. Wow.

"Yes, Yeoman Two, what can I do for you…" Animal prompted; still looking down at his files noting that she was kind of distracted by his coat on the coat-rack.

"Sorry, Sir..." She apologized for woolgathering. Bringing her attention back to what she came in for; she stammered. "Sir, I've brought a set of my transcripts, sir," she extended out her hand with a file folder with her university transcripts in them to Animal who took them from her and started looking through the folder, "…from university and I was wondering…sir… if I might ask you…for a recommendation...to OCS, sir." She asked tentatively, her eyes sparkling. Animal looked up...with a stern expression...and Eileen almost wilted, "Of course, I...could... bother...you...at a later time...sir...if…you…are…bu-" she stammered on, then noticed that Animal's stern expression had given way to a big grin – he looked as though he was about to say something. She stopped stammering and clammed up.

"I was wondering when you were going to ask that question." Animal started. "…because if you didn't; I was going to recommend that you take that line of career choice. The Navy could use you far better as an officer than as enlisted judging from your skills from what I can see from your transcripts…" he paused before continuing, "…and from your efficiency reports from the former commanding officer. Your fitreps have been outstanding, Yeoman Two. And I'm absolutely impressed." He stated firmly as he looked her transcripts over. Eileen tried to restrain herself from uttering a gasp of surprise. He had known all along that she was officer-material even before she knew herself?

"Thank...you...sir. I appreciate your faith in my skills, sir." Eileen replied as she stood at attention. "I just received my marks yesterday on my final exams and I passed it with a 98%. I should be able to start my OCS course as soon as they have a spot for me, sir."

"Good for you, Yeoman Forrest." Animal grinned at her. "I think you're doing the best thing for your career in becoming an officer. Good luck, Eileen." Animal gave her an encouraging smile.

Eileen's heart went giddy; he called me by my first name…"Sir. One question?" Eileen asked trying to calm her heart down from its ardent machinations towards the commander. "How tough was the OCS course, sir?"

"I took AOCS...the aviation pipe-line." Animal replied. "It was tough, but nothing that anyone can't handle if they're mentally strong, that is. The drill instructors beat you down to build you back up…Don't take it personally; that's the key." He grinned. "One bit of advice, stay ahead of the power-curve. Make sure that you know everything and study at every available free opportunity." He paused as he got up out of his seat and walked over. "Stick it out. It's worth it in the end. I'll have your recommendation filled and your application submitted. Fast-tracked. Commander Mitchum owes me a favor. I'll call it in." he grinned at her.

'oh, god...he has such a nice smile.' Eileen thought to herself and caught herself just long enough to stammer "Thank you, sir." She gave Animal a brilliant smile and Animal's legs nearly buckled. Eileen didn't realize what an effect she had on him as she came to attention.

'She has such a terrific smile...if only.' Animal thought to himself, but restrained himself just long enough to try to sound official and professional; an officer's verbal prelude to dismissal. "Will that be all?"

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed." She executed a crisp about-face and walked towards the door, her joy in hearing that her commanding officer supported her decision to take OCS clearly evident in her stride. Animal watched her gait as she walked over to the door and stepped out of his office. He then released a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding.

When he'd talked to Commander Mitchum, he found out that Class 98-01 would be starting in January 14, 1998. If Animal was able to get Eileen's transcripts faxed to Commander Mitchum by Friday and she would be in and a seat would be waiting for her in Class 98-01. Animal faxed her transcripts the same day that he'd received them from Eileen, well in advance of Friday and was able to tell Eileen before she secured that afternoon that she would be detaching from VF-41 on Friday afternoon, that week and reporting to OCS at Naval Station Norfolk Training Center on Wednesday, January 14, 1998 at 0600hrs and she would be there for a full twenty-two weeks and then if she chose to do so, she could return to VF-41 and continue on in the position of Squadron Public Affairs Officer. "There's always a door open for you at VF-41. Good luck on your course…" Animal stated as he wished her success in her goal of becoming a commissioned officer. He knew that she had the drive and the wherewithal to complete the course.

Eileen was bursting with joy to the point that she nearly lost herself and hugged him, but luckily restrained herself as it wouldn't be proper decorum. She just chose to thank him for believing in her that she was worth the effort to commission and that she would deeply consider whether she would accept the position of Squadron Public Affairs Officer when she completed the course. Of course she was thinking about other things as well and that very well could make things very interesting when she completed the course.

It was certainly quiet the next two work-days after Eileen had detached from the squadron on Friday. It was jarring for Animal to not see her with her bright cheery smile in the office, but he knew that she was going on to bigger and better things. He hoped that she would do well in her course, complete it and get commissioned as an Ensign in the United States Navy.

21 WEEKS LATER; WEEK 19 OF EILEEN'S OFFICER CANDIDATE SCHOOL; JUNE 3rd, 1998

Animal noted a small envelope on his desk. He looked at the address. It was from Norfolk Naval Station. And it was from an OCS Officer Candidate. He read the name on the return address: She stuck it through to nearly the end and she's just about there; he looked at the envelope giving it a wide smile. It appeared that it was getting close to commissioning day…and the envelope seemed to hold a formal invitation. She had two weeks of the program left to go and it was at about this time that they started to send out their invitations to their commissioning ceremony.

Candidate Eileen Forrest humbly requests

the presence of

Commander Toshio Nakamura, CO VF-41

at the Commissioning Ceremony

1300hrs; June 17, 1998.

Attire is Dress Whites; full-size medals,

for all serving officers and chiefs.

Naval Station Norfolk; Officer Candidate School

He grinned at the note…and then picked up a formal VF-41 "From the Desk of the Commanding Officer" letterhead.

To Candidate Eileen Forrest, Officer Candidate School.

It will be my pleasure to be at the commissioning ceremony

on June 17th. 1998. I look forward to seeing you there.

Commander Toshio Nakamura, CO VF-41.

He put it in a squadron patch embossed envelope and sent it off.

NAVAL STATION NORFOLK; OCS TRAINING CENTER; ONE WEEK LEFT TO GO

"Mail call; Candidate Forrest, it looks like you have a high-powered guest coming to your commissioning ceremony. Here's a reply." United States Marine Gunnery Sergeant Kelso, smirking, held out an envelope to Candidate Forrest who took it; seeing a VF-41 logo'd envelope, she practically ended up holding her breath and with trembling fingers opened it. Would he actually come to the ceremony? The reply which was handwritten; she caught her breath on how her former CO's handwriting inscribed her name; the flourish at the end; it was almost like a caress, she thought and then read the message that her former CO would be coming to the commissioning ceremony to see her receive her Ensign jacket and to finally see her become an officer. She had a beaming smile on her face; her heart was filling to the brim.

"So…Forrest, who's coming to your commissioning?" her classmates asked seeing the widening smile of sheer happiness on her face.

"My former commanding officer. Commander Toshio Nakamura." Their jaws dropped open in utter shock and awe. Eileen looked at them curiously. "What's so jaw-dropping about that?" she asked rather puzzled at their reactions to his name.

"The Toshio Nakamura…the one who took on an entire brigade of North Korean soldiers single-handed to rescue his downed squadron-mates; the one who received the Purple Heart for sustaining wounds in that skirmish; the one that took out an RPG shooter with one hand while his other hand was useless from wounds suffered in the shoulder?" the group of her friends and fellow candidates recited the exploits that she'd never heard that her commanding officer had accomplished, "Forrest, you need to sit down and read the award citation for his…" he trailed off and rummaged through his locker and pulled out a printed piece of paper and said, "I had to do a report on a Medal of Honor recipient in my fourth year Military History class, read his citation…it was absolutely insane what he had to go through…" He proffered the printout to Eileen to read.

Eileen looked over at the paper and the citation that earned her Commanding Officer the Medal of Honor and nearly turned sheet white:

On 29, August 1994; on Hill 175 north of Pusan, North Korea; Lieutenant Commander Toshio Nakamura selflessly exposed himself to enemy fire, despite limited ammunition with which to return fire, preventing the destruction of a United States Marine helicopter and ultimately resulting in the rescue of two fellow naval air crewmen who had been shot down earlier in the morning. Ordering the Marines and the rescued flight crew back to the Marine helicopter; Lieutenant Commander Nakamura, heedless of the danger to his own life, against overwhelming enemy forces, used first his M-4 carbine of which ammunition he had only six clips, holding thirty rounds each, maintained a steady volume of fire towards the enemy ensuring that the Marines and rescued aircrew were able to successfully recover aboard the Marine helicopter. When he had exhausted all but one round of his ammunition on his M-4 carbine, despite the continuing dire threat to his life; he steadfastly continued to hold his position while under heavy enemy fire, utilizing both his M9 sidearm, and a bag of grenades left by the Marines; thus preventing the enemy from mounting a charge up the hill towards the helicopter. In this stand, he was hit twice by enemy fire yet resolutely continued to hold his position without fear. Only after he was certain that the naval air crewmen were onboard the helo did he decamp from his position. With the single remaining round in his M4 he was able to remove a threat to the helicopter from an enemy combatant wielding an RPG. After removing the threat to his fellow servicemen; Lieutenant Commander Nakamura, with the assistance of heavy fire from the Marine helicopter's side mounted guns, was able to recover aboard the same helicopter. Despite his wounds, he insisted on manning one of the two side-mounted M60 machine guns in order to augment the stream of defensive fire so that they could lift off safely despite intense enemy fire directed towards their helo. Lieutenant Commander Toshio Nakamura's indomitable stand against overwhelming odds inflicted heavy casualties amongst the enemy and prevented the loss of two naval air crewmen as well as the potential loss of the crew of the Marine helicopter. Lieutenant Commander Nakamura's conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity; in the face of imminent risk to his life, his courageous actions, in the face of the enemy, in defense of his fellow servicemen, epitomizes courage and heroism above and beyond the call of duty and reflects the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service.

Part of her was jaw-droppingly amazed; the other scared as hell for him…he could have been killed and then she never would have had the opportunity to know him. Eileen looked at the other candidate; jaw open in surprise. "He did…all that?" she hadn't heard that before and she was curious.

"That's what got him the Medal of Honor, you didn't know?" The other candidate said as Eileen shook her head. "I've never met a Medal of Honor recipient before. I would love to see what his Medal looks like. I've only seen pictures of the Navy Medal of Honor; never in person." The candidate continued with a big grin.

Eileen said, just as in awe as her OCS classmates, "I didn't know much about the award criteria for the Medal of Honor other than you had to go through hell to receive it and yeah…from what it says on the citation, I see that he did have to go through hell. All I knew of him was as my commanding officer when I was an YN2 in VF-41 squadron. He never said anything about it. And I only noticed the ribbon once on his dress blues jacket so evidently he does have it. I wasn't aware of everything he had gone through to receive the Medal of Honor; he never spoke at all about it. He mostly walked around the office in working khakis. So most of the time, all I saw him with was just his wings."

"Yeah from what I hear most Medal recipients are humble fellows. Well maybe he'll wear the full-size Medal for your commissioning ceremony; Forrest. " The Medal of Honor ONLY had the full size medal and the ribbon for formal wear on the dress and service uniforms – they had learned about decorations and awards in one of the classes in OCS. There were no mini-medals for the Medal of Honor. The candidate, who had informed her of her former CO's feat, shot her a grin. "You are so lucky to have worked for him." he smirked. "You must be special to have your former CO coming to the commissioning… especially a CO as renowned as him…"

Eileen blushed while trying to stammer an answer to that that made sense.

"oooh…Forrest's blushing…" Her OCS friends teased her gently. "She must have the hots for him…Medal of Honor, F-14-flying Naval Aviator…she's got it bad for him…"

"Be quiet, guys…" she smirked at them knowing that they were teasing her gently with no malicious intent. "He recommended me for OCS…so I figured that I'd better have him be present…and if I did have a crush on him…I wouldn't be able to go work for him again, because you remember what they said about chain of command? No relationships allowed between subordinates and COs in the same chain of command." Hopefully that would quash any further questions. No such luck…

"So…Forrest…where are you gonna get assigned sinceyou can't go back to VF-41…?" One of the guys smirked and her friends laughed when she turned beet red.

Eileen rolled her eyes. She'd walked right into that one.

JUNE 17, 1998; NAVAL STATION NORFOLK TRAINING CENTER; OCS CLASS 98 – 01; COMMISSIONING DAY

There were a lot of admirals and high-ranking officers present at the ceremony for Norfolk OCS Class 98-01. And, first of all, there was a march-past and showing of the Colors as the naval candidates who were about to become newly commissioned officers that day were to be present and march past the dais and review stands before assembling in front of their chairs to sit down as a group. There was a band that was standing to the side marking the time with marches providing music to cover the silent spaces in between the ceremony activity that was to take place.

She wanted to look good for the commissioning ceremony and worked like a trooper, trying to get her dress whites uniform ready for her commissioning ceremony and if she could see herself, she had succeeded in getting her uniform inspection and ceremony-ready; absolutely immaculate with the fabric of the uniform reflecting in the sun…without any blemishes to mar the crisp white. In fact all her classmates took identical care in the care and attention they paid to their dress whites to look the way they did for their commissioning ceremony, all of their dress uniforms were unvaryingly white.

The OCS Candidate female uniform was a simple dress white jacket (same as the one for a female commissioned officer minus the rank stripes) with the embroidered gold star on the sleeve and nothing else; the white dress skirt completing the outfit along with white pumps and a combo boater cap with a gold chinstrap and a fouled anchor as a cap device. Then men got to wear the smart men's dress whites with the choker collar and a pair of shoulder-boards with a single gold star on the shoulders. The men had it simple. They would be able to exchange their OCS shoulder-boards for the gold star and single half inch gold stripe of a commissioned Ensign; the women on the other hand had to change jackets completely. They could see the tables prepared with female jackets and male shoulder-boards as well as officers caps both male and female as they would be called up one by one to have their jackets or shoulder-boards exchanged and to receive their first commissioned officer's caps.

OCS cadet officers were referred to as candidates. Academy and Navy Reserve Officer Training Corps cadets were referred to as midshipmen since they were taking Naval Studies courses from the outset of their academic education. And their uniforms were completely different. Naval Academy Midshipmen had ranks based on which year of study they were in. And furthermore each class had cadet officers which went along the lines of Midshipmen Ensign all the way up to Midshipman Captain which the uniforms were much like commissioned officers, except that the sleeves bore a 1/8 inch stripe and instead of alternating thick and thin stripes, they had from one to six stripes. The ones who weren't lucky enough to be a cadet officer usually had diagonal stripes denoting which year they were in. Fourth Classmen didn't have anything on their sleeves, Third Classmen had one diagonal stripe, Second Classmen had had two diagonal stripes, First Classmen had one horizontal 1/8 inch stripe with no stars on their sleeves, denoting that they were in the final stage of their studies before being commissioned. Shoulder-boards on the other hand for midshipmen usually went with anchors to denote the difference between them and commissioned officers. Naval Academy officer's shoulder-boards had 1/8th inch stripes from one stripe to six stripes along with an upside-down gold star with the top point facing towards the stripes. Considering how thin the stripes are, there was no mistaking them with commissioned officers who wore ¼ inch and ½ inch stripes. Luckily someone in Navy heraldry decided to differentiate all these officer accession programs with different rank structures or people would get seriously confused. Eileen had studied all of that in the class session that introduced them to the Navy's rank structure for officers, enlisted, chief petty officers and warrant officer as well as all of those officer accession programs. And that was a lot of information to take in.

Anxiously Eileen scanned the stands for that one lone dress-whites wearing guest with three stripes and a line-officer star on his shoulder-boards. She didn't see him in the audience stands and decided to scan the instructors in the review stands and found that he was sitting with the officers in the review stand as evidently he'd been invited to sit with the cadre when they found out that he was on premises. Even the OCS instructor cadre was in awe of her former commanding officer. She smiled an internal wide smile. He's here she thought; an overwhelming joy filled her. He came…just like he promised. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and noticed the sky-blue ribbon around the neck; the hexagonal shield showing the thirteen white stars and the upside down star that had been described during her Uniform Regulations class. So he was wearing his Medal for her - commissioning ceremony…she finished rationalizing the fleeting contemplation though the ever-romantic thought that he was wearing it just for her…still gamboled through her mind with joyous glee.

She could barely restrain a big smile which wouldn't be proper during the march-past in review so she stifled it and tried to look solemn as befitting someone who was to become a naval officer. The band was playing and the playing of the Stars and Stripes Forever was stirring as the men and women of Class 98-01 were marching past the review stand, their right hands raised in eyes-right hand salute as their salutes were returned by the instructor cadre and all those who were standing in uniform on the dais. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Commander Nakamura standing, his right hand up to his officer's cap brim in a crisp salute, returning the salutes of the candidate officers marching past the review stand. When officer candidates got to their seats and were told to… "BE SEATED!" they all did as a group.

Oh…the speeches were long-winded and mind-numbing…and of course it felt as though her rear-end was falling asleep by the time they were over. And then the names were called starting from the first letter of the alphabet to the last. Luckily she didn't have to wait too long before her name was called, "Candidate Eileen Forrest; front and center!" She stepped forward and headed towards her OCS Commanding Officer. "Congratulations; Ensign Forrest." The OCS dress whites jacket was replaced with a female dress whites jacket bearing the upside down line-star with a single gold ring of a United States Navy Ensign around the sleeve and her OCS female combo officer's cap bearing the anchor of an officer candidate was replaced with an officer's cap with the coveted eagle, shield and crossed anchors of a commissioned officer in the United States Navy.

She had put on her ribbons earned while she was an enlisted minus the good conduct ribbon – officers didn't bother wearing a good-conduct ribbon, they were expected to always be on their best behavior – after all as officers they were expected to always behave in a manner befitting an officer and a gentleman or lady as per the case. And she stood at attention while her National Defense Service Medal went on her left and the two ribbon rack that held the MUC and the NAVY E award were transferred to the right side of her jacket was transferred from her old jacket to her new one with a nod of approval from her OCS Commanding Officer. Most of the cadre knew that she had come up through the enlisted ratings before coming to OCS. The Navy E award that she'd won with VF-41, the Meritorious Unit Commendation and the National Defense Service Medal were worn on her OCS dress whites with which impressed her classmates who had, until now, never seen her wear her ribbons that she'd earned, she'd kept it quiet and when they were supposed to wear service dress khakis, she left the National Defense Service Medal ribbon, Unit Commendation and Navy E award off it – she didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb and show off the fact that she served prior to OCS. Since most of them hadn't come up though the ranks, her classmates didn't have any ribbons on their uniform with the awards and decorations class being the first class that they were assigned to informing them of the fact that they had joined during a time period when no medals for just putting on a uniform were awarded. Considering the fact that even the National Defense Service Medal was only awarded through certain time-periods and the closest period that was currently in the books lapsed in 1995; those who were going through OCS at current were not able to wear that particular service medal. The sole exception in the class was Eileen who had served from 1990 when she had graduated from high-school through this current year she applied to OCS when Gunny Kelso grinned and told her that…"You have your medal and ribbon already since you were in between August 2, 1990 and November 30, 1995…Forrest…nice to see a mustang in my class…"

…to which Eileen nodded and replied, "Yes, Gunny…" to the astonishment of her OCS classmates who until then hadn't known that she was anything but another candidate coming in from the world and none of her other classmates had served before so they hadn't known that enlisted were also allowed to take OCS if they had completed the education pre-requisites. Those who had come through the enlisted ratings before being commissioned were known as mustangs and she now was one. She hoped that there would be more opportunities to put more ribbons on her rack in the years to come serving with the branch of the Navy that she planned to go to if by chance that everything that she hoped for would come to fruition. Though of course, Gunny Kelso letting the cat out of the bag ended up with Eileen having to endure all sorts of questions from her classmates about where she'd served, what she'd managed to see during the course of her service. She finally had to tell them that she hadn't been off the Continental US and her service was restricted to the East Coast…and her trade-schools that she'd been to during the course of training to do the job her rating was required to do.

"Thank you, sir." She replied to her OCS Commanding Officer who smiled and nodded to her.

She knew that there was a tradition to be followed and as such the commanding officer didn't expect a salute at the time of the jacket exchange. She had the silver dollar in her pocket as per the tradition. When she returned to her assigned seat, she sat watching the dais and her former commanding officer when she was an enlisted. He was looking over in her direction; a wide smile on his face and her heart leapt again. With the change of jackets (for the women) and shoulder-boards (for the men) part of the ceremony being lengthy she had a good duration of time to study his face and his uniform. He had quite a number of medals and his naval aviator wings gleamed above them signifying his designator.

Now I am one of them. She thought to herself. I am now a commissioned officer in the United States Navy as soon as I take the commissioning oath.

Her parents were there as well in the stands. Her father was an enlisted senior chief aircraft mechanic's mate in the United States Navy and he was also there in dress whites; shoulders of his uniform tunic bare as chiefs didn't wear shoulder-boards to indicate rating; the ranks markings of a senior chief; an anchor with the letters USN in the center and a single silver star at the top of the anchor, were placed at the ends of the choker collar which met at the middle of the throat which put the rank pins on either side of the Adam's apple. It was too far away to see the look on her father's face clearly, but it was clear that he was holding back emotions…and that he was proud of her accomplishment. Eileen loved her father dearly.

The Forrests were a long-time Navy family and Eileen had been a Navy brat from the time that she came out of her mother's womb. The United States Navy had always been the service that both of Eileen's families; the one on her father's side and mother's side had served and they were a Navy family, whether Navy or Marine Corps, through and through – blue and gold or crimson and gold forever and ever, Amen. It seemed as though if one was a Forrest, their destiny was the naval service with generations of family members serving in that branch of service since the Civil War all the way up to the Gulf War. In fact, her brother and sister were also contemplating service in the Navy when they were of age to sign up. The Extended Forrest family had served both branches tied to the United States Naval Service; all her male relatives and some of the female relatives, for as far as she could remember, had served as either Marines or Navy yet in all those generations, none of them had stepped out of the enlisted ranks; none had achieved the lofty heights of becoming a commissioned officer until now.

Eileen could see that her mother was dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. She was always emotional when she saw her daughter accomplish something so exceedingly wonderful and to see her daughter become the first in their family ever to wear an officer's uniform in the United States Navy was probably the most wonderful thing that she'd ever witnessed; no wonder the waterworks.

"CLASS 98-01, STAND FOR YOUR COMMISSIONING OATH…ATTENTION TO ORDERS!"

They, as one, all two hundred of the graduating OCS class that were being commissioned; a sea of white stood in a single wave at the position of attention.

"RAISE YOUR RIGHT HAND AND REPEAT AFTER ME!"

"I…" each one of them stated their own name… "DO SOLEMNLY SWEAR, THAT I WILL SUPPORT AND DEFEND THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES; AGAINST ALL ENEMIES FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC; THAT I WILL BEAR TRUE FAITH AND ALLEGIANCE TO THE SAME; THAT I TAKE THIS OBLIGATION FREELY WITHOUT ANY MENTAL RESERVATION OR PURPOSE OF EVASION" It was an emotional moment and Eileen's eyes welled with proud and happy tears, blurring her vision for a moment as she spoke the last words of the commissioning oath, "AND THAT I WILL WELL AND FAITHFULLY DISCHARGE THE DUTIES OF THE OFFICE ON WHICH I AM ABOUT TO ENTER! SO HELP ME GOD!" The thought processes that weren't concentrating on completing her oath without stumbling over her tongue contemplated that her former commanding officer had spoken those words at least on five different occasions…as he was four ranks ahead of her; Eileen thought.

"CONGRATULATIONS CLASS OF 98-01…WELCOME TO THE UNITED STATES NAVY!" Her OCS commanding officer's voice rang out, "ENSIGNS! OFFICER CANDIDATE SCHOOL CLASS 98-01; DISMISSED!" As an entire group; the class of 98-01 stood up and threw their caps into the air. A huge cheer went up from the reviewing stands where their parents were all assembled.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw her former commanding officer stand up and make his way down to ground level wearing his men's white officer's cap with the single row of scrambled eggs on the brim. Eileen thought that he looked so handsome wearing his dress whites uniform; the choker collar crisply ironed; the stripes on his commander's shoulder-boards gleaming in the June afternoon sunlight and he was here for her…she exulted then reined herself in…commissioning. And she also noticed her parents heading her direction. The Chief and the Commander knew of the tradition of the Silver Dollar and the First Salute so they held back to greet her allowing her to conduct the time-honored tradition of the First Salute; her father; the Chief, looking over at the Commander in awe as he saw the Medal around the neck of her former commanding officer.

She had to find Gunnery Sergeant Mark Kelso, her OCS DI (drill instructor). And he was there, sharply dressed in his Marine Corps dress blues, spotless white gloves, worn for this special occasion; the white belt and gold buckle that went around the waist of his tunic gleaming in the shade; standing silent and tall by the trees waiting to receive his pukes, pond-scum and sea-scum as he'd called them when they first got here.

Eileen grinned to herself as she remembered Gunny Kelso's first words to them as they entered OCS, "My name is Gunnery Sergeant Mark Kelso. You will refer to me as Gunny or Gunnery Sergeant or DI Kelso. AND YOU are disgusting pieces of filth not fit to be an officer in my United States Navy! Right now you are pukes! You will obey every lawful order without question. Your first two weeks are orientation so that you will be able to familiarize yourself as to what you have to do without getting confused, which I'm sure you will become. You lot appear to not have the brains that God gave an amoeba. You will be referred to as pukes until you finish your two week orientation. GET USED TO IT and then maybe…by chance…if you haven't dropped on request…DOR'd…by the end of those two weeks, you will graduate to the lofty rank of pond-scum…some of you may have enough brains to become sea-scum! Then the real work will begin in turning you sorry lot into United States Navy officers though I'm sure, looking at this sorry bunch in front of me, it's an impossibility!" Eileen thought with some amusement that despite his dire prediction on the possibility of his class becoming officers despite his best efforts at the outset of the course Gunny Kelso had done a great job in doing exactly that seeing as how the surviving members of his officer candidate class were now disciplined United States Navy officers.

Eileen made sure that she was the first to get to her DI; not breaking into a run which would be undignified of an officer, but at a quick pace. She came up to the Gunnery Sergeant who crisply snapped to a position of attention with such execution of poise that she still marveled at; the Marines were such a dignified and tradition-heavy branch of service. The crisp dark blue with crimson trim of his Marine Corps enlisted tunic contrasted with her dress whites. The crimson and gold rank chevrons: the three of a sergeant, the crossed rifles and two rockers underneath were proudly displayed on the arms of his tunic. He swept his right white glove-clad hand to his cap brim in a salute. "Ma'am!" he barked: Ensign Eileen Forrest's First Salute from the man who trained her to be an officer in the United States Navy.

Eileen brought her hand to her combo boater cap brim; returning the salute with the aplomb and dignity of an officer in the United States Navy. "Thank you, Gunnery Sergeant" Even her tone of voice was different now, it carried a note of authority and quiet dignity. She even surprised herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see both her father and her former commanding officer; smiles on their faces, watching quietly; as she got her first salute from her Drill Instructor. "Gunnery Sergeant Kelso…" she said softly.

"Yes, Ma'am?" She held out her hand with the silver dollar in it and the Gunnery Sergeant clasped her hand when he received the dollar.

"Thank you for everything, Gunny." She said before releasing his hand which now held the silver dollar that she'd given him.

"You're welcome, Ma'am…" The normally taciturn and snarly gunnery sergeant, who had brow-beat the platoon into shape, had a note of emotion in his voice. He was damned proud of his platoon; the men and women that he'd trained into proud officers of the United States Navy.

"See you in the fleet, Gunny."

"See you in the fleet, Ma'am…"

And then the dismissal salute given by Gunny Kelso and returned by Ensign Eileen Forrest who then turned to her family and to her former commanding officer. Animal stood off to the side smiling as he gave her the time to greet her family. Her father; Navy Tradition to the core, snapped to attention and saluted his daughter; the tough chief's eyes brimming with proud tears as he held that salute; while Eileen returned the salute, "Senior Chief Forrest…thank you…" Ensign Eileen Forrest said formally.

"You are welcome, Ma'am…" The note of pride in her father's voice for her accomplishment at becoming an officer in the United States Navy was clearly evident. And then when he'd finished he opened his arms wide, "Eileen…" his voice was hoarse with emotion…

"Daddy…" Her voice wavered with emotion as she hugged her father tightly. When she had greeted her brother, her sister and her mother, she turned to her former commanding officer…and the man that she admired…oh, her classmates were right, she did have a crush on him. His gold wings were gleaming on his dress whites, "Sir…thank you for coming…" she said as she snapped to attention and crisply saluted him for the very first time as officer to officer.

Animal, a wide smile on his face, dignified senior officer to the last, came to attention and saluted her in return. "Congratulations; Ensign Forrest, I wouldn't have missed this commissioning ceremony for the world…" Her heart bubbled over at that admission from her former CO and was doing cartwheels over her left and right ventricles.

"Mom, Dad, this is my former squadron commanding officer at VF-41. Commander Toshio Nakamura…" Her father, the proud Senior Chief, was already at the position of attention, his eyes locked on the Medal of Honor, a crisp salute rendered while her former commanding officer was returning her father's salute.

"Sir…" Senior Chief Roger Forrest stated firmly and formally, "It is an honor to make an acquaintance of a Medal of Honor recipient, SIR!"

"Mom, Dad, Commander Nakamura was the one who signed my recommendation to OCS…" Senior Chief Forrest looked over at the Commander with surprise and gratitude.

"Thank you, sir…" The senior chief said, "I'm so proud of my daughter. She's the first in my family to become a commissioned officer."

"Well, Chief, she had the drive and the self-determination to get through the course and get her commission." Animal stated. "All I did was scrawl my name down and send OCS a She can do it…" He downplayed his role in the whole thing, but Eileen was so grateful to him. She wanted to hug him; oh, she wanted to do so much more than that to him, but well, that just wouldn't be proper even to think about while in uniform or for the dignity of office of an United States Navy officer.

The Chief and Eileen's mother were watching the interplay between their daughter and the commander and they looked at each other – it appeared as though Eileen's eyes were lingering over the commander's face. They thought, our daughter is infatuated with the Commander. Their daughter was twenty six after having served in the Navy as an enlisted for the past nine years going in at eighteen, right after high-school graduation and well, she certainly had risen fast through the ratings before going to OCS and being commissioned today. The Commander looked as though he was in his mid thirties. So there really wasn't all that much difference in age between them, only nine years between the two of them and they were both adults.

"Mom, Dad. I need to talk with the Commander privately for a moment…" Her mother, father, sister and brother nodded…her brother had a smirk on his face as he gave her a wink. She'd smack him later for that. Her family walked away for a while talking amongst themselves.

"Sir, permission to walk with you for a moment. I think there's a few things that I need to say…" Eileen had a whole flock of fluttering butterflies in her stomach; worried about how her former commanding officer was going to react to the fact that she had made the decision to not come back to VF-41. She wanted to leave the option of a relationship open if he was willing to do so…but she had to first find out if he was receptive.

"Of course, Ensign…" Animal stated as they walked away together.

When she'd gotten far enough away from her family to have some privacy, she turned to him, "Sir, permission to speak freely?" Oh…god…this was so difficult. Eileen thought, but I have to do this to have even a chance at a future with him.

"Yes…" Animal looked over at her as she stood there nervously rubbing her hands…

"I've always admired you…" she looked away from his face as she admitted this. "And I know that regulations stated that relationships between enlisted and officers were expressly forbidden." She breathed deeply; a wellspring of emotion…forced a lump in her throat, what if he doesn't reciprocate my feelings? "If I didn't at least make the effort to become an officer I wouldn't have a chance to tell you…as any disclosure of my feelings towards you as an enlisted would subject us to a JAG investigation and a possible conduct unbecoming charge should you choose to return my advances; it would have ruined both our careers." She looked out at the horizon, her eyes marking the demarcation between sky and ground as he stood silent listening to her watching her as she looked away to the distance. "…and even now as officers, we wouldn't be able to…if I was in the same chain of command…" she said, still not facing him; her thoughts churning. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, willing herself the strength to continue; to not burst into tears as her emotions were a storm of uncertainty.

Animal was struck speechless in shock; this beautiful ensign; his former YN2, had just admitted to him that she was in love with him. He'd pretty much had the same reaction to her as well but as she was an enlisted at the time, he'd kept this held tightly to his own heart and had not shown any sign of it as he knew that there would be fallout should he cave into those feelings. And she had done the same; squelching down those feelings because she cared enough about both of their careers not to give in to those feelings. Even though as a senior officer, he should not show those feelings that he felt for her on his face; that he should remain dignified and aloof; he still felt the internal pain that the ensign was feeling at having to hold in those intense feelings for such a long time.

"I know that…we had an extensive lecture on interpersonal relationships in uniform in our OCS training." She continued, "I want there to be…us…" she admitted to him turning around to look at him, her eyes brimming and her voice cracking, "But I…I can't do that if…we are in the same chain of command with me being your subordinate officer and you being my superior. Therefore, I…won't be returning to VF-41…as much as it breaks my heart to say so." She paused for a long moment, closing her eyes; hoping that she could get her voice steady before she spoke again. When she had told her former CO that she wasn't returning to VF-41 and that it was breaking her heart to tell him that; the admission had come out as a choked sob; fighting to get her emotions under control and taking a deep breath she continued "I want to take the chance on a relationship together…if you're willing. My second love was the law, so I've applied to graduate school; I've decided to take Law and go into the JAG Corps."

That was an upheaval. But Animal knew that was her path in life, her career choice and she wanted to walk that path with him. "I know you'll succeed…Eileen, you're determined and goal-oriented…"

"Is there the possibility of us?" she asked closing the distance with him, a note of hopeful longing in her question; her hopes and dreams of a relationship with him teetering on the brink.

Animal was silent for a long moment, his own emotions churning and then, as Eileen hung desperately onto his every moment of silence in expectation; he nodded…he couldn't speak; it was that much of a surprise; a wellspring of emotion, to know that the ensign wanted him; she was asking him if he was single and was willing to be a part of her life; that she took OCS just so that she could be with him; to stay on the right side of the regs before pursuing a relationship with him – he hoped that he wasn't entirely the reason for her taking OCS because she had a promising career ahead of her if she chose to go into law…but looking at her, he knew that she was dogged and determined and part of the reason why she went to OCS was to open up doors in her career; it just so happened that one of the doors that she wanted to open was a relationship with him. And it absolutely floored him that she would go to those lengths just because she loved him. But love was a powerful motivator. He nodded again wordlessly to emphasize that he would willingly join his life to hers.

Eileen's eyes were brimming over with tears of joy, she knew what his nod meant; that yes, he was willing; that he wanted to take a chance and be with her. "Can we?" she asked him. He probably knew more about this than she did with regards to personal displays of affection while in uniform.

"Have you told your commanding officer at OCS that you weren't planning on returning to your former command and that you were going to go into the staff corps?"

"Yes…I did…and when he asked why, I told him that there were extenuating circumstances. And when he asked what those extenuating circumstances were, I told him. He had nothing to say other than having a gigantic grin plastered on his face…except for maybe the comment of if there wasn't a prior illegal relationship, I see no reason as to why you can't have a relationship with your former CO; that is provided that your intention is to not go back to his command." Eileen stated, getting control of her well-spring of joyous emotion that her former CO was willing and had just admitted to her that he thought of her in that same way; that he cared for her in the very way that she cared for him.

"Then I don't see why not." Animal said softly and Eileen leaned into him, her eyes half closed as she could see him leaning in for the same…and their lips both met in a kiss that defied every expectation that he or she ever had…

…and winced when they both heard wolf-whistles. It seemed as though a group of her platoon-mates had gathered around nearby watching them with gigantic grins on their faces. The wolf-whistles cut off when Animal looked up with a mock-glare.

"Sorry, sir…" they all said in chorus; giving them both sheepish grins.

"Do we have to deal with them?" Eileen grumbled; a bit annoyed that their private moment of affection had been interrupted.

One of her classmates said, "Way to go; Eileen…" with a gigantic grin on his face and a thumbs-up.

"Oh shut it…" Eileen grumbled at her annoying classmate.

"Well, is he…" another said conspiratorially; a huge smirk on his face.

"Ensign…that's for her to know and for you not to pester her about it." Animal smirked at them. And the newly minted Ensigns knew that statement by a superior officer was a verbal admonition to not press the matter further.

These new officers were well aware of that since it had been drummed into their collective heads that any request from a superior officer no matter how politely worded was essentially an order…so what they heard was, "You will not annoy her…DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?"; after all, the officer who was giving them the raised eyebrow and pointed look of annoyance had two more full stripes than they had. The three full stripes were intimidating on the shoulders of the officer, a full United States Navy O-5 commander; a commanding officer of a fighter squadron; who they saw together with Eileen…the gold naval aviator wings and the command at sea pin were evidence of that command posting. This was a man who was two steps away from the stars of flag rank, the upper stratospheric echelons of Navy commissioned officer rank structure, a level which they could only dream about right now as O-1s and aspire to if their careers were so lucky as to propel them that far up the chain of command. And if Eileen had managed to snare him, then that was an incredible feat. "Yes, sir!" The rest of the platoon snapped to attention. Their eyes were all on his Medal; all looking over with fascination.

After chatting with the group for a few minutes; it was more like half an hour to forty-five minutes; letting them see his Medal of Honor up close and answering a few questions about the aviation pipeline that a few of them were considering applying for – he warned them that it was tough work and that they had to be on the ball with it; to study hard and to know their procedures inside out – they wouldn't get many chances if they screwed up in flight training; there was a lot of talk about the Tomcat and how Eileen's new boyfriend had experience in them and how flying combat was actually like. Eileen grinned as her classmates turned into avid listeners with their mouths hanging open in awe as Animal told them of some of the aerial combat situations that he'd been in; when they had finished grasping onto every word of what the commander had to impart to them…and excused themselves; Eileen and Animal were finally able to go back to meet with her family.

When they'd come back over to where Eileen's family stood waiting; the two officers moving together practically in lock-step, Eileen informed her mother and father of her future career plans, "Mom…Dad…I'm not returning to VF-41. I've decided to pursue my post-graduate law degree; I'm going into the JAG Corps…" She said as her mother and father looked at her.

"A Navy lawyer?" her dad, the aviation mechanic senior chief, said; his brows furrowed in interest and curiosity. "And what prompted you to make that decision?" He knew why…after all he was her dad, but he wanted to hear it from his own daughter's mouth.

"Dad…I want to have a relationship…with him…" she admitted; looking up at Animal with a tender smile; that he returned with a smile of his own. "And I can't do that if I'm in the same chain of command especially since he would be my commanding officer if I did go back to VF-41; so I told him that I wouldn't be returning and why. And we both decided to give our relationship a chance…"

Her dad nodded, "Well, Eileen, at least you made the right decision to stay within the regs in order to pursue this relationship…" and nodded to the Commander. Even though he was of superior rank, Animal remembered that this man was Eileen's father, a man who loved and was protective of his daughter; and that took precedence in this case. "Treat her well…Commander." The Senior Chief said; a note of sadness in his voice – his daughter was leaving the nest.

"I will…sir…" Animal said as he grasped the man's hand. Even though the man was an enlisted, he was Eileen's father and deserved that honorific and the man appreciated it as Sr. Chief Forrest gripped his hand in return – a father and a suitor giving each other mutual respect.

Animal had suggested to Eileen that they go to Oceana so that she could say good-bye to her former squadron-mates after a very late lunch with her family and they'd had a wonderful repast with Eileen's family at a family-oriented restaurant, conversation leading to many things discussed over a good filling meal.

VF-41 HEADQUARTERS; NAS OCEANA, VIRGINIA BEACH, VA; 1645 EST

"OMG…, SIR…MA'AM!" Danyelle snapped to attention seeing Commander Nakamura and Eileen; no, she was now Ensign Forrest, still in dress whites; coming through the door.

"Good afternoon, Yeoman Three…" Eileen stated formally to her best friend of many years. Now there was rank separating them as she was an officer and Danyelle was still an enlisted. There would be no more teasing in the vein of the way that they had done so when they were both enlisted. As Eileen was now an officer, the Uniform Code of Military Justice expressly forbid any teasing between enlisted and commissioned officers in keeping with the dignity of their office and the fact that there was a Punitive Article in the UCMJ expressly forbidding "disrespect to a superior officer" and with the commissioning oath that Eileen had taken today, she had taken her step into the higher realms of the office of United States Naval Officer.

From now on it was Yes, Ma'am… Danyelle felt a sadness pervade over her as she realized that the fact that Eileen was now a commissioned officer in the United States Navy would always take precedence over their friendship. Protocol and Naval tradition would now dictate their interactions, "Ma'am; it's good to see you again… Congratulations, Ma'am…on your commissioning." Their friendship could no longer continue in the same manner in which it had previous.

"Thank you…Yeoman Three…" Eileen said; she also felt that sadness as well. Danyelle had never really buckled down in school and she'd never gone to college or had any inclination to do so. They'd had a long road as friends; starting in their last year of elementary school and then in high-school; then they decided to join the Navy together so she knew what her friend's study habits were like. It was also the reason why Eileen had been an YN2; one rating higher than her friend; she'd managed to ace her Second Class rating exam, whereas Danyelle had yet to be able to achieve a passing grade. And now their roads had diverged for good. From now on Eileen was an officer and officers were held strictly apart from enlisted other than in the course of their duties or when a formal invitation was extended to an enlisted for a recreational event held in the company of others of enlisted rating who had also been invited to the officer's event.

"Are you returning to us, Ma'am…" Danyelle asked, hoping that she'd still be able to see Eileen on a daily basis, even though Eileen's duties would probably be far different than hers. In fact, she would probably be taking over as squadron Public Affairs Officer if she did come back, freeing up one of the flying officers from having to do that chore.

"No, Yeoman Parker, I'm afraid not. I've decided to take post-graduate school in Law and I'll be going into the JAG Corps, hopefully as a trial lawyer." Eileen stated, dashing Danyelle's hopes, though not intentionally.

"Ma'am; that is wonderful." Danyelle said, but couldn't keep the note of sadness out of her voice.

Animal nodded to Eileen who looked at him; she had tears in her eyes for the lost relationship that she'd had with her former co-worker and long-time friend, It's alright that nod indicated.

"Danyelle. I'm going to miss you…" Eileen burst out, her voice cracking as she opened her arms…and hugged her friend for the last time. They were both crying as they hugged each other tightly, each knowing that they were stepping over the threshold of a new relationship; one of officer to enlisted and they understood that they would no longer be free to have the same close friendly interactions as before.

"Eileen…Oh god…" Danyelle sobbed knowing that this separation was perhaps final – their friendship was now subject to the UCMJ and there was a big chance that their friendship wouldn't survive the dictates of the Navy. "You're an officer now…" that stark obvious statement made Danyelle realize that her friend's commissioning as an Ensign was a prelude to a path that she couldn't follow, at least not unless she buckled down and went to college; she paused for a long moment – the emotion of their impending separation as friends leaving her speechless. By the time she got her degree, if she was so inclined, it would probably be too late to be commissioned as commissioning as an officer had an age ceiling cap – you had to be commissioned by a certain age or you were enlisted for life. Eileen had the will and the drive to be able to do it within the deadline and succeed as Danyelle was very well aware as the result was standing before her wearing dress whites with a USN Ensign's rank. Danyelle was also aware that she, herself, did not have that same willpower and drive. "I guess this is it…" Danyelle knew that their friendship was going to take a major hit with the fact that officers could not hang out with enlisted; not even on a recreational basis, like going out to get a cup of coffee or anything like that. The UCMJ expressly forbade any familiarity between officers and enlisted.

Eileen nodded, tears filling her own eyes, also realizing that their years of friendship would quite possibly draw to a close, not through any fault of their own; "Yes, Danyelle; unless you become an officer, unfortunately we'll always be separated by yes, ma'am; no ma'am…"

"Permission to ask you a personal question, Ma'am?" Danyelle, once she'd pulled herself together, asked.

"Granted; YN3…" Eileen said looking at her best friend…

"Is it because…" She indicated to Eileen by nodding her head at her commanding officer.

Eileen nodded wordlessly. "He said yes…" She said simply.

"Oh my god…that's wonderful…to both of you, ma'am, sir…I'm happy for the both of you…" They both hugged again. Animal had allowed them that closeness in commemoration of the last time that Eileen would be visiting the office outside of coming out to see Animal in the capacity as his girlfriend or in the case of work as a staff officer; a JAG investigator, investigating cases that cropped up on the Oceana base and there, if interactions between Animal's enlisted office staff and Eileen had to take place; formalities would have to be followed – questions and statements would be followed by ma'am. He knew how much the loss of this closeness with Danyelle, a friend that she'd known since childhood in elementary school – she'd told him about her and Danyelle's long-time friendship on their ride back to Oceana; broke Eileen's heart and his heart grieved for her and for Danyelle.

FIVE YEARS LATER, VIRGINIA BEACH CATHOLIC CATHEDRAL, VIRGINIA BEACH, VA

"Dad, are you ready…" Her father was again in his dress whites…this time he was a Master Chief; he'd received the second star on his anchor as he'd been promoted a few months ago by his commanding officer and she and her Tosh had attended his promotion.

"Yes, Lieutenant…" he teased her gently. He just loved the fact that his daughter was a commissioned officer and a JAG officer. "I am…" But deep within his eyes as Eileen looked over at her father; there was also emotion there as he knew with a breaking heart that he was giving his first daughter away today into the arms of a man who she loved with all her heart and soul; a man who for the past five years had proven to him over and over again that he was worthy of his daughter's hand; a highly decorated US Navy officer who had become a candidate for a flag position; the possibility of his son-in-law to become the first admiral in their family.

"I love you, Daddy…" She whispered softly, trying to hold back emotional tears. She didn't want to ruin her carefully done make-up. An emotional thought came to the forefront of her mind: her husband-to-be would just swap places in her heart with her father as the primary man in her life but her father would always hold a special place in her heart as he'd raised her from the time she was a baby; had loved her as deeply as a father should. And she would always love her father equally deeply.

"I love you too, Eileen…today's your special day…the day you've always dreamed about…" Her father's tone was filled with emotion as he extended his left arm for her to take hold and they locked their arms together; her hand resting on her father's forearm. As they stepped out into the main audience area of the large cathedral; she looked down towards the altar. He was there standing, waiting for her in dress whites; now a Captain resplendent with four rings on his shoulder-boards and the duty station of a Commander Air Group; his Medal of Honor draped around his neck; his gold naval aviator wings brilliantly polished above his medals - a few more had joined the ones that he'd had when they'd first met and some of them were for valor. Her heart had leapt into her throat when she'd heard about how he'd earned them. He'd had three deployments in the five years that they'd been together…the months of separation had been tough for Eileen, but it had made their relationship stronger and with JAG investigations and lots of other things that had to be done, she hadn't had much time to dwell on being alone while her boyfriend was at sea. She thought back to all the times that she'd wanted to marry a pilot. And smiled – He was more than just her naval aviator; he was her other half; the one she loved more than life itself.

Eileen gathered the folds of her gown; the veil pinned neatly to her coiffed hair and smiled a loving smile at her Captain who was standing down there at the altar waiting to receive her…as her father walked her down the aisle accompanied by the notes of a processional…the seats were filled to the brim with her coworkers at JAG Headquarters, her friends at JAG: Harm, Mac, Meg and her beau who was her husband-to-be's brother, his only surviving relative and Meg's and Bruce Nakamura's relationship seemed to be altar-bound too, so she would have a sister-in-law who she worked together with; Bud and his wife Harriet; the admiral; her commanding officer, AJ Chegwidden, in dress whites with gold encrusted shoulder-boards who had a beaming smile on his face seeing one of his favorite subordinates become a married woman.

As she walked down the aisle she saw her best friend outside of her husband-to-be give her a thumbs up. She smiled at the memory of Harm, now an O-5 Commander, seeing her for the first time as an officer; a Lieutenant JG when she first reported into the Falls Church JAG office three years ago after completing post-graduate Law – the confusion, the double-take and his shaking his head before approaching her with a stunned expression on his face that made her nearly burst out laughing at his discomfiture. His first words were after inspecting her officer's dress blues, the attire she was wearing when she had reported in to the admiral; and the one and a half rings on the sleeves of her uniform, "Lieutenant JG? Am I seeing things? Weren't you…an YN2…with Animal's squadron? You…You're now an officer? You're working with us now?" The shock on his face and the fact that he was amazed and impressed that she'd had the ambition and the wherewithal to go from being an enlisted to going to OCS and becoming a commissioned officer, then to go to law school and get her law degree and be called to the Virginia State Bar was hysterically funny. He was getting the biggest kick out of seeing her with 'his good buddy, Animal'; one of his oldest and best friends; his former squadron-mate and flight-leader in the Howlers. Eileen had told him that she remembered the guy who had been there on the first time that Eileen and Tosh had actually had a conversation face-to-face; the guy who was leaning against the filing cabinet with that pie-eating grin plastered on his face. They had become the best of friends in a working capacity; occasionally doing investigations together when he wasn't teamed up with Mac and she wasn't with her assigned investigation partner, Meg Austin who had just recently been promoted to O-5 Commander.

And Meg, her female best friend and work partner…who had met Eileen's husband-to-be's brother Bruce, a Lieutenant Colonel in the US Marines; an F/A-18D Marine Corps Aviator with VMFA-329, who was there today in Marine Corps Dress Blues, his Marine Corps Aviator wings (identical to Naval Aviator Wings) just as shiny as his brother's; in honor of his Navy brother's wedding; not too much later…had got into a relationship with Bruce who was even taller than Tosh was. Bruce was six-two. The Nakamuras were tall with her husband-to-be being five ten and his brother being four inches taller than him. And Eileen was certain that Bruce was going to be asking Meg to marry him since the last time she'd seen him, he was checking out the jewelry stores with avid interest so she'd quite possibly be teamed with her sister-in-law in the future when it went that way.

Her husband-to-be's friends were there as well to see him get married; the naval aviators who were in his former squadron command and his friends in the Air Wing, Metalman, Divebomb, now-Commander and the Commanding Officer of the Black Aces, Kimberly "Jugs" Benton; and others; his closest friends. Kimber had been absolutely floored to see Lieutenant JG Eileen Forrest show up for JAG investigations, dressed in officer's khakis, silver bar and JAG mill-rinde on her collars, and apologized for dumping excessive work on her when Eileen was an YN2 with VF-41 and due to Eileen's husband-to-be's work as CAG of CVW-12, Kimber grew to be a friend of hers. Sadly, her former friend Danyelle Parker was not amongst those who had shown up from VF-41 and from CVW-12, Eileen's husband-to-be's Carrier Air Wing command; she knew Danyelle wouldn't have been comfortable in a setting where there were so many officers present and very few enlisted. The wedding invitations were for those whom she'd had a close personal friendship with and the fact that officer rank and enlisted rating had separated Eileen and Danyelle; their friendship had withered. But becoming an officer meant new friends and a new working family and that family was with her now as she got set to take the next momentous step in her life.

Eileen had been a full Lieutenant with two full rings on her shoulder-boards for a year now. And her husband-to-be had been there at her promotion. It was on that day when she was promoted to O-3 that he got down on one knee and proposed to her. She had said "Yes…" with all her heart. This year had been a whirlwind of pre-wedding preparations. And the two of them were waiting on the selection boards and Congressional vetting that convened to see if her husband-to-be would be deep-selected for his first star of which there were noises coming out of the Pentagon that they were looking at him seriously to take over at NSAWC as commanding officer thus extending his flying career.

It was with that thought that she realized that she was nearly at the altar, seeing her husband-to-be turning towards her and reaching out his hand for hers. Tears misted her eyes as she took her Captain's hand and heard her father say for the second time in her memory, "Captain…treat her well…" and added a husky "I'm giving her to you now…to take care of…for the rest of her life…and yours…"

"I will…Dad…" her husband-to-be said; looking at her father and at her. Loved and cherished…was what Eileen felt as she looked into her husband-to-be's eyes.

Their wedding vows were filled with emotion and their "first" kiss as husband and wife was just as passionate as the one that they'd shared that very first time at Norfolk; the day that she'd been commissioned as an officer; except now…she was his and he was hers…for as long as they both should live…in holy matrimony bound by vows of fealty and faith.

Eileen looked up at her Captain and whispered, "I love you…" A memory of him saying…stick it out, it'll be worth it in the end…flickered in her mind. Oh it was worth it in the end…was it ever. A naughty thought of what she was going to show him in terms of worth it in the end was percolating in her mind – but that was for later long after the reception.

"I love you too…" Animal whispered to her as they stepped down the aisle to the melody of the recessional.

And linking their arms together; they stepped out into the summer sunlight as her best friend at work; their best friend; Commander Harmon Rabb Junior, roared out, "BLADES TO THE WIND!" to the seven other assembled officers; seven Navy; one Marine Corps who had their swords out blade to blade completing the Naval Officer's Wedding Sword Arch which they would walk under…calling out to those assembled who watched the couple kiss under the arch. "MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION: Presenting for the very first time in Public; Captain Toshio and Mrs. Lieutenant Eileen Nakamura!" amidst loud cheering.

Eileen was so filled with happiness as she looked into her husband's eyes that she barely even felt the swat on her behind with the flat of the sword held by an evilly grinning Harm uttering, "GO NAVY!" who was relishing the moment way too much while Mac, Meg and Harriet watched him indulgently;

Her beloved Tosh and she would walk life's road together; meeting life's challenges, and joys; raising a family together; keeping their vows in sickness and in health and standing side by side for as long as life would give them time with one another.

It was everything that Eileen could have ever wanted…

Post Script:

The Delacroix Residence; Virginia Beach, VA 0945hrs EST

Lieutenant James Delacroix picked up the daily paper looking over at the articles that the paper had to offer. He'd been assigned to VF-101 Grim Reapers after completing the flight training pipeline at Pensacola. He'd come a long way from OCS Class 98-01 and he'd had his gold Naval Aviator wings now for over three years. He remembered what the commander had told him about keeping ahead of the power-curve when he'd informally talked to them about flying after the commissioning ceremony. Jim had utilized that knowledge to stay ahead of the game and he graduated as one of the top two percent of his flight school class and that was what got him the slot for fighters (VF). Learning to fly the F-14 Tomcat was one of the proudest moments of his life and now he had been with the VF-14 Tophatters since 2000. He'd known for quite some time now that these were the last few years of the Tomcat in US Naval Service and that he'd be working up for switching to the single-seat F/A-18E Super Hornet soon – it would be a switch to fly in the cockpit alone. He was used to having a RIO in the back of his Tomcat. The Black Aces would be getting the Fs, the two-seaters. The Rhino was going to be a switch from flying the Tomcat and he would miss Grumman's Cat deeply when they finally retired her. He'd often wondered what happened to some of his classmates. Some of his classmates were serving in different locations in Naval Stations around the world and some of them, unfortunately due to operational accidents, were dead. The latter was the regrettable fact of life being stationed in a combat unit, whether onboard a ship or a submarine or assigned to an operational squadron or a special operations unit…when one trained as hard as they did, accidents were bound to occur – that was par for the course. The class of 98-01 had gone on to their careers and most had lost touch with each other; too busy with the demands of their individual duty stations to continue to keep up with each other's careers; they had enough trouble keeping up with their own.

He remembered a bright, cheery, beautiful firebrand named Eileen Forrest; she'd been a bright spot in that insane asylum called OCS; a good friend and classmate – they'd studied together so that they would pass their exams and get to where they both wanted to go. He had been the one that raised a thumbs up, grinned and said "Way to Go; Eileen" when he'd seen her kiss that commander and got promptly told to shut it by Eileen – he'd just had to get that in. He grinned at the memory. He wondered how she was doing since she'd said that she was going into the JAG Corps.

Jim Delacroix was busy with VF-14 for their next deployment workups and hadn't had time to do much of anything else except come home, eat and sleep. It was just that busy of a time – pre-deployment was intense and the air wing had to be on the ball and ready for combat. It was a rare morning when he was able to relax and read the paper like today.

His eyes widened when he got to the classifieds and the wedding announcements as he scanned the page: Master Chief Roger Forrest, USN and Margaret Kennedy-Forrest are proud to announce the wedding of their first-born daughter Lieutenant Eileen Forrest to her beloved Captain Toshio Nakamura. Captain Nakamura is the CAG of CVW-12 stationed at NAS Oceana in Virginia Beach and Lieutenant Eileen Forrest-Nakamura is stationed in Falls Church as a member of the US Navy's Judge Advocate General Corps. The wedding was held at Virginia Beach Catholic Cathedral; the reception was held at the NAS Oceana Officer's Club. The happy couple will be vacationing in Hawaii for their honeymoon.

Jim grinned at the announcement. He'd known that it was more than likely headed that way. He saw the starry eyes that Eileen'd had for Commander Nakamura. And he'd gotten to know Commander Nakamura a lot more since he'd served under Captain Nakamura's Air Wing command as one of the naval aviators assigned to a squadron that was sister squadron to the CAG's own when he was an O-5 and VF-14 and VF-41 always deployed together under CVW-12. CAG was tough but he was fair and Jim was known as one of the top naval aviators under his command – he was always on the greenie board at the very top in terms of carrier traps and if there was a tough mission to accomplish, he was always the first to be considered. Jim had managed to accumulate a good number of fruit salad decorations including the Distinguished Flying Cross; the Air Medal and the Silver Star in missions over Afghanistan and Iraq after the World Trade Center terrorist attacks in September 11, 2001 and had amassed a great number of sorties on his logbooks. It was a far cry from his commissioning day. He, like the CAG, was now a winged naval aviator with combat experience. He was looking at department head within the next four years, promoted within zone; if he didn't get deep-selected for O-4 within the next three years and it was looking as if he would be deep-selected considering his fit-reps signed off on by the CAG were top-notch.

And he was absolutely happy for both CAG and his former classmate at OCS 98-01. He silently wished them a long and happy life together.

Sheraton Villa Honolulu, Hawaii; 0545hrs

Eileen Forrest-Nakamura's eyelids cracked open as she looked over at the other form sleeping in bed; the naked form of her now-husband, the man who she'd had a crush on for so long was finally hers to keep; vows exchanged and rings on both their fingers – but she knew that crush had grown into a deep and abiding love for the man who had given himself to her. And boy, did they ever give of themselves to each other, the night previous. She felt wonderfully fulfilled and sighed deeply, absolutely utterly wrung out physically and satiated – happy; even with the slight ache down there where she had lost her virginity for the first time.

Their wedding night began as soon as they'd dropped off their luggage in their room. He had hungrily kissed her while she'd kissed him back; both shedding clothes as he walked her backwards towards their bed, each with questing hands, searching and feeling out the other's carnal wants. And then the absolute heavenly feel of him in her arms; their passionate taking of each other's bodies and the feel of him loving her that she'd always dreamed about; intimately joined, her body shifting to meet his every motion each time he moved within her invoking sensations that were absolutely incredible; driving each other to a peak that was absolutely mind-blowing; the warmth that rushed into her as he fell over the edge. She loved that she was able to finally see what he looked like unclothed and to feel his entirety as they made passionate love; his soft growl low in his throat as he took her for the very first time – she didn't even notice the brief pain as he breached her maidenhood; the sex was just far too enjoyable to even notice the discomfort. She smiled as she remembered how many times that they'd joined together, how she had managed to coax him back into service as they both tried to regain their breath after such an amatory exercise. She was finally able to find out the answer to the question she'd always day-dreamed about; What would it be like to make passionate love to him? The answer was: far better than anything that she'd dreamed up. And what would it be like to make love to him in the shower and to have him bathe her; have him do whatever she wanted of him in that bath including the washing of her hair? It was as passionate and romantic as the answer to the first question. It was heavenly. And they would have a blissful three weeks of leave that her commanding officer had granted her for her honeymoon. And her husband had gotten permission from the COMSECONDFLT for those same three weeks to be with her.

During their five years together prior, he'd always been the perfect gentleman; respecting her decision to wait until their wedding night to join themselves together in the marriage bed. Of course it'd been hard to keep that vow since his kisses were like fire to her kindling. But kisses were all that he would take when they were engaged because he respected her wishes and loved her immensely; to him, just being with her was enough until they were married. And she knew that she had said yes to the right man because he was always so caring of her needs and she had no qualms about giving him her body that wedding night. He was hers and would always remain so up until the very last breath they took.

It was too early to be up out of bed. Eileen thought to herself and curled up against her newly-wed husband; her head nestled in the curve of the back of his neck; just exulting in the closeness and feel of their bodies lying together under the covers, unclothed skin to skin…as she dropped back off to sleep again.

******THE END ******