A Matter Of Conscience

Author: NancyE

Feedback: No flames, please, otherwise, YES! But please be kind. This is my first JAG slash fic

Pairing: Harm/Clay m/m

Rating: NC-17 for the most part.

Slash/Romance. If sex between two men bothers you, don't read further.

Time Frame: After 9-11 certainly. In the JAG universe? Doesn't really matter. Except that Mac and Harm are best friends. Mac's not seeing anyone at the moment, and, as far as anyone knows, neither is Harm. But Harm as been in an on again/off again relationship with Clayton Webb for some time. Probably sometime during Season 7.

Archiving: Ask first. I'll probably say yes, but I really like to know where my stories end up.

Author's notes: This is my first attempt at JAG slash fic. I love the Harm/Clayton pairing, but being a romantic at heart, I see them more as perfect for each other rather than playing control games. They have such similar backgrounds, I think they could understand each other, and be good for each other. Thanks for the Beta, Caroline.

A Matter of Conscience
by NancyE

1600 Local Time
The Cottage Restaurant
Groveton, Arizona
Saturday Evening

The restaurant was busy - even for a Friday night. Evan Ryerson reached across the table to cover his companion's hand, his dark eyes searching the other man's face. He doubted that he'd ever get tired of watching it. Five years Evan's junior, Jerry Halberson was a damn fine looking man. Curly
blonde hair, blue eyes and a smile that could turn big strong Evan into a puddle of jello.

Jerry glanced around nervously, and Evan chuckled softly. "Relax, Jerry. This place is so far out of the way there's no way anyone would recognize us here. That's why I chose it. I didn't want anything to spoil our anniversary."

Jerry returned Evan's smile and visibly relaxed. "I guess I'm being paranoid, aren't I?"

"It's understandable," Evan agreed, rubbing his thumb back and forth over Jerry's skin. "Ten years of sneaking around tends to make a person that way."

Jerry sighed. "I really wish we didn't have to -"

"You knew what it would be like when we fell in love, Jerry," Evan reminded him. "My career -"

"Yeah," Jerry nodded, still not happy. "I guess it was just my bad luck to fall in love with a hotshot Marine pilot," he finished, keeping his voice low so that others nearby wouldn't be able to hear him. No sense in taking unnecessary risks, after all.

"Do you regret it?" Evan asked.

"Not at all," Jerry assured him, smiling. "It's one of the things I love about you - your dedication to the Corps. I wouldn't change it for the world."

Their waiter brought dessert, a cake with sparklers on it, which drew the attention of the other patrons. Evan smiled as he threaded his fingers through Jerry's. "I should have known you'd have some kind of surprise for me."

The two men were so caught up in the moment that they failed to notice the man and woman being seated across the restaurant from their table. The man frowned when he noticed the two men, and his wife followed his gaze.

"What's wrong, Hugh?" she asked, and then saw the two men, hands clasped across the table. "Really, Hugh," she said with a sigh. "It's none of your concern."

"You're wrong, Jeanne," Hugh O'Connor replied, his lips thinning with anger. "One of those men is Colonel Ryerson."

Jeanne O'Connor's eyes widened in shocked surprise as she, too, recognized the Colonel in the dimly lit restaurant, and she quickly lowered her gaze as their waitress approached. "Can you something to drink this evening?" she asked.

"I think I'd like a Vodka martini," she told the woman, and reached over to touch her husband's sleeve, forcing his attention away from the two men. "Hugh?"

"Gin and tonic," he told the waitress, frowning. "What's going on over there?" he asked, indicating Ryerson's table. "Someone's birthday?"

The waitress looked over to the other table. "Oh, no. It's their anniversary. They've been together for ten years. Isn't it romantic?" she sighed. "I'll bring your drinks right over."

"Hugh -" Jeanne began, seeing the look on her husband's face. "You don't have to -"

"But I do, Jeanne," Hugh said. "I'd be violating my duty as an officer not to." When his wife looked sad at the news, he sighed, "Look, it's not something I *want* to do. But - I don't have a choice."


1000 Local time
Monday
MCAS Yuma
Yuma, Arizona

Marine Col. Hugh Ryerson knocked once on the door to General O'Connor's office, and entered when he was told to. Standing at attention, he said, "The General sent for me?"

"At ease, Colonel." O'Connor studied the man before him for several minutes. "How was your weekend, Colonel?" he asked, and saw Ryerson frown slightly before he answered.

"Uneventful, sir. I was- out of town."

"In Groveton?" O'Connor asked. Ryerson's eyes dropped for a moment to where O'Connor sat before they lifted again to fix themselves on a point above and to the right of the General's head.

"Yes sir. I stayed at a small Bed and Breakfast there - I wasn't aware that the General knew about it."

"My wife is from Groveton," O'Connor replied. "We go there on occasion to visit her sister." O'Connor rose from his chair and turned to look out of the window, hands clasped behind his back. "As a matter of fact, we were there this weekend. Went to dinner at a restaurant there- the "Cottage". Are you familiar with it?" he questioned, turning to look at Ryerson.

"As a matter of fact, yes, sir, I am. I had dinner there on Saturday evening."

"Alone?"

Ryerson snapped to full attention again. "Sir, if you continue this line of questioning-"

"It's a simple question, Evan," O'Connor said, and when the junior officer didn't move, he said, "At ease." Ryerson fell into that stance, but O'Connor could see the younger man's jaw muscle working. "Evan, how long have we known each other?" he asked.

"Over twenty years, sir," Evan answered, still looking directly ahead.

"You're right. I can't ask that question. But I *can* and *will* ask who you were with in Groveton this weekend."

"An old friend, sir," Evan said.

"And you were celebrating knowing this *old friend* ten years?"

"I respectfully request that you cease and desist with these questions, General," Ryerson said in a formal tone.

O'Connor took a deep breath before speaking again. "I called you here today to tell you that I'm instituting an investigation against you for conduct unbecoming an officer, Col. Ryerson. Consider yourself on leave until the investigation is complete."

"Will that be all, sir?" Ryerson asked, only blinking his eyes once as he listened to the words.

"Dismissed," O'Connor said, watching as Col. Ryerson turned on his heel and left the office. Sinking into his chair, the General shook his head, regretting once more the impulse that had sent him to that restaurant on Saturday night. Sometimes, it *was* better not know. Because the Corps was going to lose one hell of a good officer and aviator.

One Week Later
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Admiral AJ Chegwidden sat at this desk, looking over his reading glasses at his two senior JAG officers. "General Hugh O'Connor at MCAS Yuma is asking for a JAG man investigation into one of his senior staff officers," he told them. "Colonel Evan Ryerson."

"Col. Ryerson?" Mac questioned. "The man's a highly decorated veteran of Desert Storm as well as several other conflicts, sir. He's a hero."

Harm was giving her an amused smirk as she spoke, and commented, "The Marine's poster boy for Aviation," he nodded, and ignored her look in return as he asked the Admiral, "What does General O'Connor suspect, Admiral?"

AJ removed his glasses and tossed them onto his desk. "The General is considering filing charges against the Colonel for violations of Articles 125 and 133." When his officers looked surprised, AJ continued. "Col. Ryerson was seen in a restaurant a hundred miles from the base in the company of another man, celebrating what the witness was informed was their 'ten year anniversary'," he said.

"There are a great many reasons why the Colonel could have been with another man, sir," Harm said when Mac didn't jump to her fellow Marine's defense. "They could have just been old friends, celebrating that friendship or some other important event. The waitress could have been mistaken.."

AJ retrieved his glasses and read from the report. "According to this, they were seen holding hands at the restaurant, and when they left, the two men were seen exchanging a kiss as they walked toward a local bed and breakfast."

"Who reportedly saw this, Admiral?" Mac asked.

"Gen. O'Connor and his wife were witnesses. I want both of you on a flight to Yuma ASAP. SecNav wants this handled as discreetly as possible. While the ACLU and SLDN would probably be delighted at the news, the last thing the Marine Corps needs at the moment is to have one of its most highly decorated pilots to be outed as being a homosexual. Dismissed."

Outside the Admiral's office, Mac looked at Harm. "The SLDN?" she asked.

"Servicemember's Legal Defense Network," he clarified. "They help homosexual servicemembers try to stay in if that's what they want. Among other things."

Mac raised her eyebrows. "And how do *you* know so much about it?" she teased.

"I've done a little research," Harm explained. "I'll go make the arrangements to get us to Yuma. BOQ all right with you?"

"Sure," Mac said, staring after him.

Harm closed the door to his office and picked up the telephone to get the reservations. He winced at the idea of spending five hours en route, not including a two-hour layover to change flights, but it was the only one out of DC to the Yuma area. Hanging up the phone, Harm dialed another number.
He waited impatiently for it to be answered.

"Webb."

"Hi."

He could see Clay's smile as the other man responded. "Hi yourself. I didn't expect to talk to you until this evening. What's up?"

Harm chuckled softly at the question. "Well, now, that's a loaded question, isn't it?"

"Did you call just to give me a hard time, or is there another reason?" Clay asked, joining in the game.

"Ah, but you know you love it when I give you a 'hard' time." Clay made a choking sound, causing Harm to laugh softly again. "Just wanted to let you know I'll be out of town for a couple of days."

"So you're canceling tonight, then," Clay said, and Harm smiled again.

"You sound disappointed."

"I just got back *into* town last night," Clay reminded him. "I'd hoped to spend a little quality time with - a friend."

"It's only for a couple of days," Harm said again. "Mac and I have been assigned a JAG man investigation."

"You and Mac alone together," Clay said. "Should I be jealous?"

"Would you be?" Harm questioned, waiting for the answer.

"Positively green," was Clay's response, which didn't really confirm or deny anything, Harm thought. "Where are you going?"

Harm smiled. "Well, I'm not sure I can tell you that, Clay," he said, only half-teasing. It was still a sore point with them- Clay's inability to tell Harm where he was going because of his job.

"Fine. I can always find out. I do have other sources," Webb pointed out.

"Yuma."

"Arizona. Garden spot of the middle of nowhere," Clay joked. "Call me tonight?"

"If I can. We'll be staying at the BOQ." Harm glanced up to see Mac standing in the doorway of his office, an expectant look on her face. "I have to go," he said into the phone.

"Take care of yourself, Harm."

"I'll have to, won't I?" was Harm's reply. "Bye." Giving Mac a grin, he explained, "Just canceling a date," he explained.

"A date?" Mac repeated as he put some files into his briefcase and grabbed his cover. "I didn't know you were seeing anyone. You've never mentioned it."

"Uh, she's - a - flight attendant," he lied. "Usually isn't in town very long."

"Maybe we'll be back before she leaves on her next flight," Mac told him, getting onto the elevator ahead of him.

"I can always hope," Harm said, aware that she was still watching him. God, he hated lying to her. To everyone. There were times when he just wanted to run through the streets of Washington, yelling out his secret to the entire world, the consequences be damned.

But then rational thought would return, and Harm knew that he couldn't do it. *Wouldn't* do it. He had considered for a moment asking the Admiral to send Sturgis or Bud with Mac to do this investigation. The last thing he wanted to do was practically accuse Col. Ryerson of something that would end his military career.

It was hitting a little too close to home, Harm supposed. But he had known that the Admiral would have started asking questions, questions for which Harm had no answers. At least, no answers that he would want to hear, anyway.

"Harm," Mac said, and he looked up to find her standing in the front of the elevator, holding the door open. "What time is our flight?" she asked, looking frustrated at his lack of concentration.

"Oh. 1500 hours," he answered, following her out of the elevator and through the front doors. "But we need to be at the airport by 1400. And you'd better bring a book. It's going to be a long flight. Two hour layover in Phoenix."

Mac frowned, then said, "You can pick me up on your way out," as she went to the door of her Corvette. "Are you sure you're all right, Harm?" she asked, looking concerned. "You don't seem yourself for some reason."

"Just thinking about getting to meet the Marine poster boy for Aviation again," he told her, and then gave her a big smile before getting into his own Vette.

"Again?!" he saw Mac say, her eyes huge as he drove past her with a wave of his hand.



1300 Local Time
North of Union Station
Washington, DC

Harm cleared his answering machine, including the message that Clay had left last night when he'd returned to DC and called while Harm was in the shower, asking if he could come over. They had both decided to wait until tonight, since Clay was exhausted and Harm had to be in court early the next day. Regretting that decision now, Harm threw some things into a bag, showered and changed uniforms, and was en route to Mac's apartment within an hour.

Of course, she was waiting when he got there, immaculate as ever, glancing nervously at her watch. "You're cutting it a bit close, don't you think?" she said, tossing her case into the back of his SUV before getting into the passenger side next to him. She knew him well enough not to question his taking the vehicle to the airport instead of the Vette. No way was he going to leave that car in long-term parking even for two days.

"We've got plenty of time, Mac," he assured her, accelerating back into traffic. "Stop worrying."

"So you've met Col. Ryerson before?" she asked, and Harm smiled.

"Back during my first tour on a carrier. He was there with a squadron, training."

"You never mentioned it."

"I didn't realize that you were so turned on by aviators, Mac," he said, giving her a grin.

"*Some* aviators," she returned, also smiling.

"I see. Only the ones wearing Marine green," he teased. "I understand now why dress whites and gold wings didn't do anything for you."

"You're jealous," she accused.

"Of Evan Ryerson? Why on earth would I be jealous of him? Take away that Marine green and the wings and all those medals and commendations, and what's left?"

Mac sighed. "Just those green eyes and that smile," she said. Another sigh. "Of course, if this investigation confirms what Gen. O'Connor suspects, -"

"He'll still have the green eyes and killer smile," Harm pointed out. "Just not his career."

Mac tilted her head to look at him as he drove. "You sound sorry for him."

"The man's spent twenty five years in the Marines, serving his country to the best of his ability. And all of that will be gone like -" he snapped his fingers, "-that if we find evidence that proves he's gay. I just don't happen to think that's very fair."

"He knew the rules when he joined the Corps," Mac pointed out. "If he was gay, he should never have enlisted."

Harm gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Maybe he didn't know when he joined," he suggested. "People change- become more self aware. Realize that they're not who they thought they were. Should they be penalized for that?"

"Harm, whether I think so or not, the military does not allow for homosexuals to serve openly."

"Why? Think about it, Mac. If Ryerson *is* gay, - does that negate all of the good he's done? The lives he's saved? Do you think those people give a damn whether he's gay or straight or - purple with yellow polka dots?"

Mac blinked, startled by his outburst. "I never realized you felt so strongly about this, Harm," she said.

He took a deep breath, and gave her an embarrassed smile. "Sorry. I'm not even sure where that came from. I just don't like to see someone lose everything they've worked for for no good reason. Let's start over, okay?"

"Fine with me," Mac agreed. "So, what's her name?" she asked conversationally, and Harm blinked for a moment. "Your flight attendant friend?" she prompted, giving him a teasing look.

"Oh. Uh," Harm thought quickly. "Carol," he said.

"Let me guess. Tall, blonde, long legs - "

"Actually, she's about your height," Harm corrected. "Brown hair. Hazel eyes." *With gold flecks that disappear with passion,* he continued silently.

"Didn't think that was your type," Mac commented.

"People change," he told her, and wished he could take that back, in case the similar comment from their discussion of Evan Ryerson made Mac think. He kept his eyes on the road ahead, refusing to look at her.

"How long have you been seeing her?" Harm relaxed slightly, realizing that she hadn't made the connection.

"What is this, counselor? A cross-examination?" he asked, giving her another smile.

"Just curious. But if you'd rather not talk about her-"

"Six months. On and off. Whenever she's in DC, we get together."

"Six months? And you've never once mentioned her?"

"I'm not sure it's going to work out. There are a lot of - problems to overcome."

"Problems?"

"Her job, my career, things like that."

"Seems like those could be easily taken care of if you're in love with each other." She looked at him again. "*Are* you in love with her?"

"I think so," Harm answered, his thoughts on Clay. "No. I *know* I'm in love."

"And how does she feel?"

"I think she feels the same way, but, well, she's not very - vocal about her feelings usually." Mac's burst of laughter caused him to frown. "I'm glad you think it's funny."

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just- *you*, Harmon Rabb, Jr. falling in love with someone who has trouble expressing their feelings. It's funny."

Seeing the humor in her comment, he found himself laughing as well. "Paybacks *are* hell, aren't they?"

He was beginning to relax. As long as he remembered to use the name Carol instead of Clay, and keep the pronoun straight, he could do this. Of course, if Mac insisted on *meeting* 'Carol', he'd have to think of an excuse, but for the moment, he allowed himself the opportunity to just enjoy being even halfway honest with the person that he considered his best friend.

2030 Local time
MCAS Yuma

As the rental car neared the front gate to the base, Harm and Mac could see a knot of people in the glare of the streetlights, carrying signs and shouting at the MPs who were attempting to maintain some order and allow vehicular traffic inside.

"What on earth?" Mac asked aloud, but Harm could already make out the words on some of the signs.

"Gay Pride", one of the signs read. "Be All You ARE", read another. Yet another held the message, "Homosexuals can be Patriotic too."

"Looks like the media's gotten wind of this," Harm said, wincing.

Mac pointed to a ZNN news van parked across the street, as the cameraman focused on the demonstration. "Something tells me things have changed."

He drove slowly through the crowd, keeping his eyes straight ahead until they reached the guard tower. Rolling down the window, he smiled at the MP, showing his ID as Mac did the same. "It appears that you have your hands full, Sergeant," Harm noted, but the man didn't return his smile.

"Been like this for the last couple of hours, sir."

"We're supposed to meet with General O'Connor," he told the MP.

"Straight ahead, sir, first right, then left for HQ."

"Thank you."

Base Headquarters was brightly lit, and it appeared to Harm that every light in the building was on- probably on alert because of the media leak and damage control as a result of that leak. An MP stood guard just inside the front door, and asked to see their IDs as they entered.

"We're from JAG," Mac told the Marine as he examined their identification. "The General's expecting us."

"Sorry, Commander, Colonel," he said, turning to the telephone at his elbow. "But the General told me to make sure no reporters get through again."

"Again?"

"Stuart Dunston from ZNN was here earlier, demanding to talk to the General." He spoke into the telephone. "There are two JAG officers here to see General O'Connor." He nodded. "Right away, sir." Hanging up, he told them, "Take the elevator up to the second floor - the doors open directly in front of the General's office."

If his red face was any indication, General O'Connor was not in a good mood, Harm decided. He greeted the two JAG officers with a salute and told them to rest easy. "I suppose you noticed that group of - demonstrators outside the front gate?" he said.

"It was a little difficult to miss them, sir," Harm said.

"Do you know who leaked news of the investigation to the media, General?" Mac asked.

"Ryerson."

Harm blinked, uncertain if he'd heard correctly. "Excuse me, sir, did you say that Col. Ryerson told the media that he's under investigation?"

"You're behind the times, Commander," O'Connor said. "Ryerson has admitted that he's gay - on national television, as well as to me, personally, and has declared his intention to fight any attempt to discharge him on any grounds. It's going to a full-blown court martial."

"He's waived his Article 32?" Mac asked.

"On advice from his civilian attorney," O'Connor sneered, looking suddenly very old and tired. "I've known Evan Ryerson since he joined the Corps, and I would have bet my bottom dollar that he was as straight as the day is long. There was never any sign, any indication that he wasn't."

"What alerted you to the truth, sir?" Harm asked.

O'Connor's eyes narrowed. "You read my report, Commander?"

"Yes, sir, but I prefer to hear it in your own words."

"My wife and I were in Groveton, visiting her sister. It's a small town, around a hundred miles from here. After the visit, we stopped at a local restaurant for dinner. The atmosphere is very - romantic. Dimly lit, candles on the tables, soft music, that kind of thing. Moments after we were
seated, I noticed two men sitting at a table across the dining room. They were holding hands, talking quietly. The waiter brought a cake to their table, and it seemed that they were celebrating something. So I asked our waitress what was going on, and she told my wife and me that the two men were celebrating their being together for ten years."

"The report mentioned something about the two men being seen kissing after leaving the restaurant," Harm said.

"When they left, I followed them," O'Connor explained. "They never saw me, but I watched as they walked down the street, arms around each other. And they stopped, turned toward each other directly under a streetlamp, and kissed. It wasn't a friendly kiss, Commander," O'Connor explained. "It was a kiss shared by two people who know each other intimately. After the kiss,
Col. Ryerson and his friend continued on to a nearby Bed and Breakfast and went inside. I stood there, watching as a light came on in an upstairs window, and I could easily see the two of them, embracing again before the light went out. After that, I returned to the restaurant, paid the bill, and we left, returning to the base around 2400 hours."

"We need to check in with Admiral Chegwidden, sir," Mac said, "If you don't mind."

"Not at all. Telephone's right there. I want this settled, do you hear me? As good a Marine as Ryerson was, that's finished now."

"May we speak to Col. Ryerson, sir?" Harm asked, causing Mac to look at him as she dialed the telephone.

"I'll have he and his lawyer sent in," O'Connor agreed.

He gave them a salute as they came to attention, and then left them alone. Mac finished dialing the Admiral's number, certain that he would still be at the office, even with the lateness of the hour. "Admiral? It's Col. Mackenzie."

"Thank goodness, Colonel. I was hoping you'd call- I assume you and the Commander have been filled in on the changes that have taken place?"

"Yes, sir. We're going to interview Colonel Ryerson in a few minutes. Do you have any further instructions, sir?"

"SecNav is ordering the Colonel's court martial moved here to DC - don't ask me why," he said before Mac could do just that. "I want you and Rabb on a flight *back* here first thing tomorrow morning. You're both set to prosecute on this one."

"Yes sir." She hung up and looked at Harm. "SecNav wants the court martial to be in Washington," she informed him. "First thing tomorrow, you and I are supposed to fly back - I would assume they'll be transporting the Colonel then as well. We could probably share the military flight back," she decided. "That's complicated by the fact that we've been named to plead the Navy's case against the Colonel."

Harm took a deep breath. He'd known this was coming, hadn't he? Of course he'd be called to prosecute Ryerson. The Navy's poster boy - their supposedly *straight* poster boy - against the Marine's admittedly gay poster boy. But how the hell was he supposed to do that, when he was guilty of - Harm's thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of a well-dressed man and Col. Evan Ryerson, along with two MPs.

Mac looked at the MPs. "You can wait outside," she told them." Both men snapped to attention and then left the room.

"Col. Ryerson. I'm Col. Mackenzie, and this is-"

Ryerson's handsome face broke into a surprised smile as he looked at Harm. "Rabb. *Commander* Rabb." He sounded a little surprised at the rank Harm had achieved, and it made Harm smile.

The man in the suit was looking from his client to Harm and back again. "Excuse me?"

"Forgive me," Ryerson said. "Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. We served together a long time ago. Of course, he was Lieutenant Rabb, then, just starting out as an aviator. Damn good one, until that ramp strike. I heard you'd transferred over to JAG after that. This is Carl Michaels. My attorney,"
Ryerson added.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions, Colonel Ryerson," Mac said. "If you don't mind."

"I've got nothing more to hide, Col. Mackenzie," Ryerson said, smiling broadly. "My life is now an open book."

"Evan," Michaels said warningly.

"Ask away," Ryerson said, ignoring his attorney's attempt to stop him. "I'll tell you exactly what I told Gen. O'Connor and Stuart Dunston: I'm a homosexual. I'm gay. I've been living with another man for ten years. That man is not in the military. He's a photographer. My relationship with my
partner has in no way affected me in the performance of my duties, and the fact that I am gay has no bearing on whether or not I can *continue* to perform those duties."

"The Corps disagrees, Colonel," Mac pointed out evenly.

"I suppose that's what all this is about, isn't it, Col. Mackenzie," Michaels said. "All Col. Ryerson wants is to have the right to live his life and continue to serve his country as he's been doing for the past twenty-five years."

"We'll see you in Washington, Mr. Michaels, Colonel," Mac said, turning toward the door.

Harm stood there, looking at Ryerson, trying to think of something to say that would help the situation.

"Coming, Commander?" Mac asked.

"Right behind you, Colonel," Harm answered, and left the room.

"You weren't much help in there," Mac told him as they waited for the elevator.

"Sorry," Harm said. "It was a long flight, I guess--" his voice faltered as Mac looked at him.

"What is *wrong* with you, Harm?" she questioned. "Look, if you want me to, I'll ask the Admiral to assign Sturgis as second chair on this one and I'll take lead. Considering your ambivalence to the charges -"

"No," Harm said quickly. "I mean, when have I ever let my personal feelings interfere in a case?" Seeing her expression, he backtracked quickly. "Let me rephrase that. I'll be okay, Mac," Harm said, following her onto the elevator and giving her one of his most disarming smiles. "Just need a few hours sleep, that's all. Any idea where the BOQ might be?"

The MP at the front door gave them directions to the Bachelor's Officers' Quarters, and Harm was relieved when he discovered that he didn't have a roommate to worry about. At least he'd be able to call Clay and talk to him about this.

He smiled tiredly at Mac, who promised to make the arrangements for a military hop back to DC. "There is *no* way I'm going to spend another seven hours getting *back* there," she told him. "You get some sleep, okay?"

"I will."

"Give Carol a call. Talking to her might make you feel better, too."

"I might just do that," Harm agreed, smiling at her. "Night."

"Night."

He entered the room and tossed his cover onto the dresser, dropped his suitcase onto the floor, then turned off the glaring top light, leaving the smaller one beside the bed dark. It matched his current mood.

Taking out his cell phone, he dialed a number, and waited for the answering machine to pick up. Clay always screened incoming calls in case it was someone that he didn't want to talk to. "It's me, Clay," he said, and sighed in relief when he heard Clay answer.

"You sound awful, Harm," Clay told him.

"Thanks. You try doing this and then tell me it's a joyride," Harm replied, running a hand through his hair. As he talked, he unfastened his shirt and managed to remove it. He kicked off his shoes without bothering to untie them.

"Let me guess," Clay said. "You're there because of Col. Ryerson."

Harm frowned. "How'd you know?"

"It's all over the news, Harm. ZNN had a segment with Stuart Dunston talking to Ryerson and his attorney, and then trying to get an interview with General O'Connor." He was quiet for a moment. "Pretty rough, huh?"

"Like sandpaper. Dammit, Clay, what the hell am I supposed to do here?"

"Your job," Clay suggested quietly. "Harm, I know it's not easy. Hell, I go through it, too. Someone asks if I'm seeing someone- I mean, the Company's a little easier about same-sex relationships than the military, but seeing you means I have to say 'No. I'm not seeing anyone.' Or 'Yeah, I am,' and leave it at that."

"Maybe we should stop seeing each other, then," Harm suggested, dropping onto the narrow bed without bothering to turn back the covers.

"That's not what I'm saying, Harm," Clay insisted. "When are you coming home?" he asked to change the subject. "Scuttlebutt around town has it that the court martial is being held here."

"Scuttlebutt's right," Harm confirmed. "I'll be back tomorrow. I hate this, Clay. The Admiral wants Mac and me to prosecute Ryerson."

"Then do it. Or resign and join Ryerson on the block. It's your decision, Harm, and I'll stand by whichever one you make."

"I just feel like such a damned hypocrite," Harm sighed.

"Even if Ryerson's discharged, Harm, he's promising to take it as far as he can to get things changed. Do your job to the best of your abilities, and let the chips fall where they may."

"I wish you were here with me," Harm sighed.

"I wish I were, too. Maybe tomorrow night, we'll work something out."

Harm laughed. "I doubt that. Once the media finds out that I'm prosecuting this damn thing, I'll be a target."

"Hey, I'm a spook, remember? I can get in and out without anyone seeing me." His voice lowered. "Are you in bed, Harm?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"What are you wearing?"

"My t-shirt and pants."

"Unfasten the pants, Harm," Clay said.

"Clay-"

"Don't argue. You need this as much as I do. Just do it. Unfasten your slacks and take them and your shorts off."

Harm held the cell phone with his shoulder as he did as Clay requested. "They're off," he said. "I'm just wearing my t-shirt and socks now."

"The sleeveless t-shirt?" Clay asked.

"Yeah."

"I love the way you look in that," Clay told him. Clay's voice was low, and if he closed his eyes, Harm could almost pretend that he was there, whispering Harm's ear. "Are you hard?"

"Almost," Harm answered, already reaching for his partially erect cock.

"Put your hand around it, like I would."

"Oh, yeah," Harm sighed, slowly rubbing his fingers around his cock. "Are you doing it too?" he asked, and heard Clay moan.

"Yes," Clay managed, his voice a little strangled. "Close your eyes, Harm. Pretend I'm there with you. That it's my hand on your cock, my fingers rubbing up and down, my thumb circling the head, tracing the top-."

"Oh, Clay," Harm sighed, eyes closed, somehow remembering to keep his voice soft. "Oh, yeah."

"I'm on my back, Harm, my ankles over your shoulders, ready for you. Aching to feel that wonderful cock fill my ass -"

"Oh, damn," Harm said, tightening his grip on his cock, mimicking the tightness of Clay's asshole as he pumped. "You're so tight. Oh, man. Yeah. That feels so good."

"Oh, that's it, Harm. Fuck my ass. You're the best, baby. Absolutely the best. That's it," Clay said, and then Harm heard the familiar sound of Clay gasping, crying out as he came.

The sound brought Harm to the edge, and then over, his come shooting onto his stomach and chest, matting the dark hair. "Ooooooohhhhhh, Clay," he said, the phone barely still on his shoulder as he pulled on his cock. "I'm coming!" he cried somehow managing to keep his voice quiet. "Ahhhhh!"

He heard Clay fumbling for the telephone on his end of the connection. "Get some rest now, Harm. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Thanks, Clay."

"Night, Harm," Clay said, and the connection was broken.

Harm somehow pressed the right button on his cell phone, and then pulled his t-shirt over his head, using it to clean up the traces of his release. With the last of his strength he managed to get out of bed, turn down the covers, and crawl under them again, before succumbing to a deep, exhausted sleep.



1300 Local Time
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Harm and Mac entered the bullpen only to be told by Coates that the Admiral wanted to see them both ASAP. Handing the Petty Officer their briefcases, they immediately went to the Admiral's door, where Harm knocked once on the doorframe.

"Enter!"

They went inside, both at attention, and waited for the Admiral to acknowledge their presence. "At ease," AJ finally said. "Col. Ryerson will be arriving in DC within the hour. He'll be placed under house arrest, awaiting court martial," he told them. "Did he tell you anything when you spoke with him?"

"Nothing more than he told General O'Connor and the media, sir," Mac confirmed. "He declared that he is gay, that he's in a long-term relationship with someone not in the military, and that he believes he can still do his job in spite of that."

"Well, he's already getting his case into the court of public opinion," AJ told them, holding out a copy of a Washington newspaper.

"Marines Booting Hero Because He's Gay" was the headline.

"Apparently Ryerson's SLDN attorney set up a telephone interview before they ever left Yuma," AJ pointed out.

"I'll bet SecNav's not happy this morning," Harm said.

"You have a definate talent for understatment, Commander," AJ confirmed. "Col. Ryerson's court martial starts tomorrow morning," he informed them both.

"We haven't even seen witness lists yet, sir," Harm objected. "Or been able to interview anyone except Col. Ryerson."

"Then I suggest you get to work, Commander," AJ barked in response. "Dismissed."



2150 Local time
North of Union Station
Washington, DC

Harm saw the news reporters waiting when he parked the SUV and sighed. Seemed to him that he'd been doing a lot of that lately. It was nearly ten pm, he hadn't been home since yesterday afternoon, and he'd spent most of the afternoon and early evening either going over the defense witness list with Mac or planning strategy for tomorrow morning. Ryerson's attorney had chosen to have the case heard before a panel of Ryerson's peers, so Harm expected that they would spend the next several days deciding who to pick for that panel, and who to release. He also had to think about an opening statement, and it wasn't something Harm *wanted* to think about. He could make all kinds of cases for letting Ryerson stay in the service. But his mind blanked when it came to arguing the other side of the issue.

At the moment, all he wanted was a hot shower and his bed.

As soon as he got out of the vehicle, he found a microphone in his face. "Commander Rabb, do you agree with the military's policy on gays?" a reporter asked.

"No comment," Harm told the young male reporter. "Excuse me," he said, pushing his way through the knot of people. "It's been a long day and I'm tired," he said. "So you might as well go home or wherever it is you sleep, because I'm not giving any interviews." He entered the building, making sure the door closed behind him. At least they wouldn't be able to get inside and camp outside his apartment door, he thought, his breathing becoming easier.

The elevator deposited him near his loft, and Harm unlocked the door, glad to be home. He left the case just inside the door as he pushed it shut and turned the dead bolt for security, then moved to toss his keys onto the desk. The answering machine wasn't blinking, which meant Clay hadn't called. Removing his uniform jacket, Harm tossed it over the nearest barstool.

Harm didn't bother to turn on the lights as he moved through the open area and climbed the two steps into his bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he bent to untie his shoes, and then froze as he felt a hand stroking his back.

"I was beginning to think you'd never get here," a familiar voice said, and Harm exhaled the breath he'd been holding.

"Clay." Harm turned into his lover's arms, seeking reassurance and comfort. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," Clay said, his fingers smoothing Harm's dark hair.

"How'd you get in here?" Harm asked, but Clay shook his head.

"Shh. Later. Right now, just lie down and let me take care of you."

Without argument, Harm did as Clay requested, enjoying being on the receiving end for a change. Usually it was Harm that was the caretaker of the two, comforting and quietly supporting Clay when he would return from two weeks God knew where doing God knew what. Clay finished removing Harm's shoes, then pulled at his tie, loosening it, slowly pulling it away. The shirt buttons were next, and Harm smiled at the sensation of Clay's fingers above his t-shirt. He sat up so that Clay could remove the shirt, and then felt those magic fingers working on unbuckling his belt and lowering the zipper.

He lifted his hips when necessary to allow both the pants and his shorts to be removed, and moaned softly as he felt Clay's fingers touching him. "Hmm," he said. "That feels good," he said, reaching out, and smiled as his own hand found Clay's hardness and began to caress it.

But Clay's free hand captured his, removing it. "I said to relax and let me make you feel better," he said, looking into Harm's now open eyes. Harm had learned to trust Clay - something that hadn't come easily to either of them - and now he placed his hands behind his head, his eyes still open. Clay smiled his approval, leaning forward to place a kiss on Harm's lips. "That's better," he said, still smiling as he lowered his mouth over Harm, taking him in all the way.

"Oh, God, Clay. That feels so damn good. That's it," he said, and fought the urge to reach for his lover by grasping the headboard tightly as he continued to moan. Clay reached over to the nightstand, and Harm heard the familiar sound of a condom being opened. Even though they were both sure they were clean and free of any STDs, Clay had insisted that they continue to use protection. Harm hadn't asked any questions, not wanting to hear if Clay had other lovers besides him. He felt Clay roll the condom over his rock hard, aching cock, and then saw the tube he was holding.

Clay liberally coated the condom with the lubricant, and then straddled Harm, his eyes never leaving Harm's as he claimed another kiss while applying the remaining lube to his opening. Finally he pushed up, squatting over Harm's cock, and began to lower himself onto it.

Harm tried to remain still, to let Clay do all the work, watching the other man's face as his ass was filled by Harm's cock. So many emotions flitted across those aristocratic features. Pain, uncertainty, relief, and finally a look of peace as he felt Clay's skin against his.

Bracing his hands on his knees, Clay began to move up and down, and Harm could see the muscles of Clay's legs tensing under the stress. Clay's own cock was hard, and Harm asked, "Can I touch you?"

"Please," Clay begged, and when Harm's fingers closed around him, his eyes rolled back in his head. "Uhhhh," he cried softly, and modified his position slightly so that Harm's cock would hit his prostate. "Oh, yeah. Yeah."

Harm felt his balls tighten, pulling closer to his body, and increased his speed and pressure on Clay's cock. "I'm close," he said, and Clay clenched his ass muscles to send him over the brink with a strangled cry. The intensity was such that Harm's hand fell away from Clay's body, and he
watched through a post-orgasmic haze as Clay finished jerking himself off, feeling his lover's come as it landed on his chest and stomach.

Clay fell forward to lie on top of Harm, resting his head on Harm's shoulder. "Thank you," Harm said, pulling Clay's face toward him to give him a kiss. "That was - incredible."

"Hell, how many times have I been dragging my ass and you've done something similar for me?" Clay asked. "I wanted to do it."

Harm's softening cock came out with a soft "pop" as they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms. "Thank you. I needed that more than I realized."

"I think we also need to clean up," Clay said with a grin. "I'll go start the shower," he decided, giving Harm another kiss before rolling away, deftly removing the used condom and tying it off to drop it into the wastebasket on his way to the bathroom.

Harm remained on the bed, reluctant to move, and wondered how Clay had managed to even walk after what he'd just done. The idea that he had more practice entered his thoughts, but Harm pushed it aside.

"It's ready," Clay said, leaving the lights off as he returned to the bathroom and entered the shower stall.

"Why no lights?" Harm asked, his hand on the switch, but Clay's next comment caused him to quickly withdraw it.

"Harder for people outside to see in," he pointed out, and Harm's eyes flew to the small window across from the shower, and then recalled the windows in the rest of his apartment, some of which had a view of the bedroom. Clay looked at him. "Don't worry. If anyone tries to get up onto the balcony by way of the fire escape, we'll know. I set up an alarm earlier."

"I hate this," Harm sighed, joining Clay inside the enclosure. "You didn't answer my question about how you got up here without being seen," he recalled at last, letting the water wash over him.

"I left work early and got here around four- well before any of those vultures who call themselves reporters arrived. Figured you'd be ready for a little TLC when you got home."

"More than ready," Harm nodded, smiling as Clay took the soap from his hand.

"It's not over yet, Flyboy," Clay promised, and Harm chuckled at his using one of Mac's terms. "What's so funny?" he asked. "You're not ticklish."

"That's what Mac calls me. Flyboy. Speaking of Mac, she knows I'm seeing someone."

Clay's hands stilled, resting on Harm's chest as he looked up. "She does?"

Harm grinned. "She thinks I'm seeing a flight attendant named Carol, who's about this tall," he said, placing his hand on the top of Clay's wet head, "with brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes."

Clay grinned. "Carol, huh? What if Mac asks to meet her?"

"I'll make an excuse. She's a flight attendant, after all. Always on the go. Hard to keep up with that type," Harm pointed out as Clay's hands began to move again. "I dated a flight attendant a few years ago," he recalled, smiling. "Wasn't bad, as I recall."

"Oh really?" Clay asked, grabbing Harm by the balls and cock. "Better than me?" he asked.

Harm pretended to consider the question, until Clay's fingers relaxed and became a caress. "Oh, no. Nowhere near as good as you, Clay," he said, cupping Clay's cheek with his hand and giving him a kiss.

0100 Local Time
North of Union Station
Washington, DC

The water had turned cool before they found their way out of the shower and back to the bed. Laying there, his head resting on Harm's chest, Clay asked, "Have you decided what you're going to do?"

Harm didn't have to ask what he meant. "Do my job to the best of my abilities," Harm replied, lightly rubbing Clay's back. "I need at least two more years before I can consider retirement."

"Maybe by then, Ryerson's case will have changed something and I won't have to."

"Are you disappointed?" Harm asked Clay, and felt Clay look up at him.

"Why would I be disappointed?"

"Because I'm choosing my career in the Navy over our being able to be together."

"It's something I accepted when we started this, Harm," Clay assured him, his own fingers tangling in the dark hair on the chest beneath his cheek.

"What is *this*, Clay?" Harm asked, holding his breath, aware that if the answer wasn't the one he wanted, everything could come crashing down.

Clay was looking at him again. "What do you mean?"

"I just mean, well, is this an - exclusive relationship? Is it just sex for you?"

"What's wrong, Harm? Found someone else you'd like to check out?" Clay asked.

"God, no. I'm happy. For the first time in my life, I think. But I'm the type of person who needs a monogamous relationship, I guess."

"And you're curious as to whether I feel the same way," Clay finished for him.

"Yeah."

Clay's hazel eyes were clear, and Harm searched for any sign of the shutters that seemed to come down if he wasn't telling the truth as Clay answered, "If I say that you're the only one I *want* to be with, Harm, does it answer your question?" The shutters weren't there.

Harm could easily read between the lines. If, in the course of his duties with the CIA, Clay had to use his body to gain access to information necessary to complete a mission, he would do so. "I guess it'll have to," Harm said, wishing it were different.

Clay placed a hand to Harm's cheek, forcing him to look into Clay's eyes again. "Harm, if it was just about sex, I could get that anywhere. I wouldn't have to take the chances I'm taking by being with you. I'm here because I want to be here. It's not just about sex. Not with you."

Harm closed his eyes as the relief flowed through him. "Thank you."

"I wasn't going to tell you right now," Clay said, laying his head on Harm's chest again, "but I've got another assignment."

Relief and relaxation fled at the words, and Harm tried to hide the reaction, but he knew that Clay could feel the tension, could probably feel his heart beating faster as his worry increased. "When do you leave?" he asked.

"Tomorrow."

"I suppose you can't tell me where you'll be."

"You know the rules, Harm," was Clay's answer as he pulled away to lie on his back. "Need to know."

"And I don't. Need to know, that is," Harm replied, putting his arm over his eyes.

"I don't like leaving you now, Harm," Clay said. "But maybe - maybe it's for the best, all things considered. My being out of town simplifies things. There are people who would *love* to find out that the lead prosecutor in Ryerson's case has secrets of his own that they could use against him."

"I suppose you're right," Harm said, getting out of bed.

"What are you doing?" Clay asked.

"To get a beer," Harm told him.

"Harm, come back to bed."

Harm ignored him and continued on to the kitchen, where he opened the refrigerator and took out a beer. He took some pleasure in twisting the cap off, tossing it in the general direction of the sink before lifting the bottle to his lips.

"Harm," Clay said again, and Harm heard him getting out of bed. "Dammit, Harm, we discussed this-"

"I know," Harm said, playing with the paper on the bottle as he sat at the bar. "I guess I just thought you'd be here for me, that's all. That I could count on you-"

"You can," Clay said. "I'll call. Even if it means compromising the mission, I'll call. As often as I can." He placed a hand on Harm's thigh as Harm ignored him to take another drink of beer.

"I don't want you to compromise anything, Clay," he said. "It's just - I've had to defend clients where I don't believe in their innocence, but this is - different. It affects *me*. My *life*."

"My life, too," Clay reminded him. "Harm, do you have any idea how difficult it is for me not to tell people I work with *who* I'm seeing? Who I'm involved with?"

"Is that all this is to you, Clay? An 'involvement'?" Harm asked, slamming the bottle onto the bar with enough force to make Clay jump. "Because it's a hell of a lot more than that for me." He focused on the bottle as he spoke, unable to look at Clay. "No other relationship I've ever had has
felt this *right* before," he said. "Do you know how many times a day I think about you? About seeing you? How often I worry about where you are when you're gone? If you're safe? If I'll ever - If I'll ever see you again?" he finished in a broken voice.

Clay's arms went around him, and Harm rested his head on Clay's shoulder. "I feel the same way, Harm," he said in a gentle tone. "But you knew what you were getting into when we started seeing each other. Just like I did. I knew going in that you were as dedicated to *your* career as I am to mine." Harm felt Clay's fingers combing through his hair, and shuddered. "I *have* been considering trying for a supervisory position," he admitted. "Which means I wouldn't be going on actual missions, but just checking up on field agents and trying to repair whatever damage they've done. And I'd be here in Washington more than I'd be gone."

"I'm sorry, Clay," Harm said. "It's just - I've lost too many people in my life. I don't want to lose you."

"And how do you think I feel whenever you have to go out to a carrier for an investigation or hearing? Or for your quals?" Clay asked.

"I thought you trusted my flying," Harm said, looking at him.

"I do. In the Stearman. But considering your prior history with F-14s, every time you're around one of those damn things, I get a knot the size of Texas in my gut."

Harm smiled at that. Clay had no qualms about going up in the Stearman with him. In fact, he'd learned to pilot the small aircraft with surprising ease. "You never told me that."

"I didn't want to worry you." He reached out with the back of his knuckles up to wipe the moisture away that was tracing its way down Harm's cheek. "Come back to bed. I'd like to be able to spend the rest of the night with you by my side."

Harm drew a shuddering breath, holding Clay close for a moment before standing up and heading back toward the bedroom, his arm around Clay's shoulders.

"Did I ever mention how much I love you, Clay?" he asked, finally deciding to open his heart to this man, even if it meant further pain.

He was rewarded by Clay's smile as they got into bed. "Not as much as I love you," was his response.



0700 Local time
North of Union Station
Washington, DC

Clay made breakfast for the two of them the next morning while Harm got dressed. "Any idea how long you'll be gone this time?" Harm asked as he helped Clay rinse the dishes and put them into the dishwasher.

"No way of telling. It should be pretty straightforward, but, you never know." Clay must have noticed Harm's worried frown, because he moved closer. "Hey. I said I'd call, didn't I? And I'll keep up with the media reports on the trial. The Company's keeping a watch on it as well - the idea of a decorated Marine being gay has some of them a little worried, I think." He touched Harm's cheek. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Harm said. "Last thing I need to worry about is that you're worried about *me* while out on a mission. Don't worry about calling if you can't. I understand."

"We'll see what happens," Clay told him. "You'd better get going or you'll be late," he warned, glancing at the clock. "I'll finish cleaning up. I can't leave anyway until the reporters are all convinced you're at JAG Headquarters."

Harm dried his hands, and then pulled Clay fully into his arms for a long kiss. Looking into those green eyes, he said, "Be careful."

"I will be," Clay promised. "Knock 'em dead."

"I'll do my best," Harm replied, picking up his briefcase and cover from the bar. He hesitated a moment in the doorway, looking at Clay, and the closed the door behind him.

Taking a deep breath, he left the building to face the reporters who were camped outside. "Will you talk to us this morning, Commander Rabb?" the same young male reporter asked.

"Sorry. I have a court martial to prosecute," Harm informed him, getting into the SUV and starting it. Watching in the mirror, he smiled as all of the reporters ran to their vehicles to follow him.



1145 Local time
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, VA

The members were seated by lunch, surprising both Harm and Mac, which meant that Harm would need the opening statement he was dreading ready when court resumed. So when Mac asked about lunch, Harm gave her a regretful smile. "I have to polish my opening statement," he answered.

"Which means you haven't written it," Mac said with a sigh. "Harm, this isn't like you."

"It's written," he insisted.

"Where is it, then?"

He tapped his head with a finger. "In here. I just need to get it on paper."

"I'll bring you something up here, then," she said. "A salad?"

"Sounds good," he lied. The thought of eating made him nauseus. "Thanks." He sat down at his desk and picked up a pen, letting it hover over the lined legal pad before him, but couldn't come up with even a beginning. "The prosecution will show that the defendant, Col. Evan Ryerson, did knowingly and willfully - "

"Excuse me, sir?"

Harm looked up, torn between being grateful for the interruption by Tiner and being irritated by it. "Yes, Tiner?"

"Aren't you going to lunch, Commander?" he asked.

"I have some work to do," Harm explained, lifting the pad. "Did you need something, Petty Officer?"

"No, sir," Tiner said, and Harm thought that the young man looked uncertain about something. "I just- permission to speak freely, Commander?"

"Go ahead, Tiner," Harm said, and found himself frowning as Tiner closed the door behind him.

"I thought that you should know that I was contacted last night by someone from the SLDN, sir."

Harm's frown deepened. "Why would they contact you, Tiner?" he asked.

"Because of Charles, sir." Seeing Harm's confusion, Tiner added, "My half-brother."

Harm sat back, wondering how he had managed to forget that Tiner's half-brother was gay. Hell, half of the office had thought Tiner himself might be gay during that incident. Of course, he'd heard about it later, since he'd been in stuck in Iceland on another case. "And what does your half-brother's sexual preference have to do with Col. Ryerson's court martial?"

"That trial is a matter of public record, sir," Tiner told him. "And in my testimony, I made it clear that I might be considered - sympathetic to the plight of gays in the military."

"Are you?" Harm asked, and then decided that the question needed more. "Sympathetic, I mean. I'm not asking -"

"I know, that, Commander. And I'm not - but I *am* sympathetic."

"Did you tell the people from SLDN that?"

"No, sir. But I don't know that they believed me, and I'm expecting that they might decide to subpoena me to testify on their behalf anyway."

"Have you mentioned this to the Admiral, Tiner?"

"No, sir. Do you think I should?"

"It might be wise. And if were you, I wouldn't mention anything about coming to me first."

"Understood, sir."

"Thank you for letting me know about it."

"You're welcome, sir."

Harm watched as Tiner left the office before lowering his eyes to stare unseeingly at the almost blank pad again. For a moment, he thought he might be able to talk to Tiner about things- but quickly put that idea aside. It was bad enough that he was risking his own career, but involving Tiner would endanger the Petty Officer's career as well.

Picking up his pen, Harm took a deep breath and forced his mind to set Clay and their relationship aside as he began to write.

***

"I said no, Mr. Michaels," Evan Ryerson said to his attorney. "And I meant no. You will *not* subpoena *any* military personnel on our behalf. Including Petty Officer Tiner."

"Evan," Carl Michaels began, and looked at Jerry Halberson. "Maybe you can talk some sense into him."

Jerry shook his head. "Evan's asked me to let him handle this," he told the lawyer. "And that's what I'm going to do," he said, returning Evan's smile of approval.

"Listen, Evan," Michaels tried again, "Petty Officer Tiner testified at a gay bashing trial a few years ago - and that testimony was definitely sympathetic to gays. I'm sure that because of that testimony, he's been approached by members of the military who are afraid to come out -"

"And if he testifies to that on the stand, that he was told by a fellow servicemember that he or she was gay, and he did not report it to his commanding officer, that young man's career will be over just as mine is," Evan explained, going into full Marine mode. "I refuse to destroy another person's career in a futile attempt to save my own."

"Futile? We haven't even started yet."

"Mr. Michaels, we're going to lose. Beyond the fact that we don't have a leg to stand on, the prosecutor on this case is one of JAG's best legal officers. Commander Rabb-"

"Might have a few skeletons of his own," Michaels pointed out, taking a file from his briefcase.

Evan blinked, frowning. "What?"

Michaels opened the file to scan the information it contained. "Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., 38 years old, never married, several failed relationships with women, and there are other thing as well - he fits the profile -"

Evan grabbed the file from Michaels' hands and ripped it in two. "Enough! You will cease and desist in any and all investigations of anyone involved in this court martial, Mr. Michaels, or I will fire your sorry ass and find someone who understands what I want. Do I make myself clear?" He was standing directly in Carl Michaels' face, nostrils flaring, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"Crystal, Evan," Michaels said, stepping back and lifting his hands. "You're the boss. I never really expected to win here anyway. But I thought I might try."

"I'm guilty of the charges, Michaels," Evan pointed out. "A court martial can't set military policy. The only thing they can do in there is decide my punishment. After that, it becomes an appeals process."

Michaels smiled. "And that's when it will really get interesting."

****

"Colonel Evan Ryerson is charged with conduct unbecoming an Officer," Harm began as he faced the panel. "Col. Ryerson has admitted that he knowingly violated Article 125 of the Uniform Code of Conduct when he began and continued a relationship with another man. A relationship that he has kept hidden from everyone else for the past ten years. The prosecution will make it clear that Col. Ryerson's deliberately violated the rules and regulations that he agreed to when he took his oath both as a Marine and an Officer, and that he is therefore unfit to continue to be a part of the United States Marine Corps." He glanced in the direction of Ryerson as he continued. "Does the government intend to ignore Col. Ryerson's important contribution to the freedom and defense of his country? No, it does not, and I believe we owe the Colonel a debt of gratitude for his heroic actions. That does not change, however, the fact that good order and discipline must be maintained for the good of the service, now, and in the future."

He moved back to the prosecution's table and sat down, his gaze locked on the notepad before him.

"Mr. Michaels, you may give your opening statement now," Admiral Morris announced.

Carl Michaels stood up from his chair. "I'm not in the military. But I've spent a great deal of time with people who are. People just like all of you. People who want to serve their country, who enjoy being in the service. People who just want to *continue* to be able to do that and to spend time with the person they love - to be themselves. Nothing wrong with that, is there? I'm sure that most of you would agree with that. But what if that person happens to be in love with a person of the same gender? Ah, then we have a problem, you say. But does that make a man - or a woman - any less fit to serve their country in whatever capacity they are capable of? The defense intends to show that it does not. And we also intend to show why we believe that the rules as they currently stand should be changed for- as Commander Rabb just stated, the good of the service."

Admiral Morris looked at Harm. "Is the prosecution ready to continue, Commander?"

"Yes, sir, we are."

"Then call your first witness."

1300 Local time
Three days later
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Admiral Morris took the slip of paper, and handed it back to the bailiff. "Will the defendant and counsel please rise?" Admiral Morris said before turning to the members. "You may publish your findings."

"Colonel Evan Ryerson, this court finds you guilty on all counts."

Harm kept his eyes straight ahead as he listened to the words.

"And have you decided on a penalty?" Admiral Morris asked.

"We have. This court hereby recommends that Col. Ryerson be given an Honorable Discharge due to his exemplary military record."

At least he'd be able to keep his pension and medical benefits, Harm thought as the Admiral dismissed the court, and wondered idly if he would have received the same if it had been him on trial. Opening his briefcase, Harm put some papers inside, aware that Mac was looking at him. "Are you okay?"

"Hey, we won, right?" he said, giving her a bright smile. Picking up his cover, he turned - and found himself face to face with Evan Ryerson.

The soon-to-be former Marine held out his hand. "No hard feelings, Rabb. You were just doing your job."

"We all have to do our jobs, Colonel. Good luck."

"Thank you."

Harm stood there for a moment as Ryerson, his partner and his attorney left the courtroom to confront the press waiting outside of the building. "What was that all about?" Mac asked.

"Just- two ex-pilots saying goodbye," Harm told her.

"Sounded like more than that to me," she noted, leaving the room herself.

It had been, Harm mused as he followed her. He'd done his job, as he'd told Ryerson, but for one moment, the two men had connected during Harm's cross-examination. He had asked Ryerson why he felt he deserved to stay in the service.

Ryerson had looked him in the eye, and answered, "Because it's what I've always done. Being a homosexual doesn't change that. I'm a Marine aviator, serving my country, training others to do the same. Just because I discovered that I was in love with another man doesn't make me unfit to
continue doing that. Shouldn't I be allowed to love whoever I want to, to live my life as I see fit as long as it doesn't affect my duty to my country? Isn't that what we're supposed to fight for? Freedom? Would *you* be willing to give it up, Commander, if the tables were turned?"

Harm had frozen in place at the question, eyes locked with Evan Ryerson's- and he'd had the feeling that Evan knew the truth. Knew that Harm *was* more like him than anyone else knew.

Luckily, Admiral Morris had reminded Ryerson that he was on the stand to answer questions, not ask them, giving Harm the opportunity to recover his wits and declare that he had "no further questions for the witness".

Reaching his office, Harm sat down and dialed Clay's home phone, but there was no answer - apparently he still wasn't back from wherever he'd gone. Clay *had* called - once, the first night, and had been as supportive as possible considering the distance between their locations. They hadn't even been able to do what they had when Harm had been in Yuma, since Clay couldn't stay on the line for very long. He'd hoped Clay would have been home -

"Sir?" Tiner said, tapping on Harm's doorway to get his attention. Once Harm looked up at him, he said, "The Admiral would like to see you and Col. Mackenzie in his office, sir."

"I'll be right there, Tiner," Harm replied, gathering his wits.

Mac joined him as he was knocking on the Admiral's door. "Enter!"

He and Mac went inside, remaining at attention until the Admiral released them. "You both did an excellent job," he told them.

"Thank you, Admiral," Mac said. "I didn't really do anything. Harm handled most of it."

"Which didn't go unnoticed," AJ commented. "However, the SecNav has asked me to relay his appreciation to you both for a job well done. Of course, Ryerson's attorney has already announced his intention to take the decision to appeal - I don't suppose either of you would care to argue the
government's case on that one?" He stood there, waiting, and when there was no response, he nodded. "I thought so. Now that the media circus is over, I'm hoping we can get back down to the usual business. I'd like a status report and a recommendation on the Donaldson investigation tomorrow afternoon."

"I'd recommend a court martial, Admiral," Harm said, thinking about the case that he'd been working on before Ryerson's had come up and been fast tracked. "Lt. Donaldson obviously erred by firing that missile at a friendly target -"

"I disagree," Mac said. "Lt. Donaldson had no way of knowing that the controls on the tracking device that he was using were in need of repair. I think we need to look elsewhere for the responsible party."

"Diffusion of blame, Mac?" Harm questioned.

"It's worked for you in the past," she reminded him.

"Would the two of you care to discuss this further before presenting your report tomorrow afternoon?" AJ questioned rather pointedly, bringing both officers back to attention. "Dismissed."

"Why don't we discuss it over dinner?" Mac suggested. "Make it a celebration about the Ryerson verdict and a working dinner at the same time?"

Harm opened his mouth to refuse, but he really didn't want to spend the evening alone, and since Clay was still out of town, he nodded. "Sounds good. But I'll do the cooking."

"Fair enough - as long as it's not tofu. What time?"

"How about 2000 hours?" he said, finding himself laughing at her comment about his food choices. "I should be able to cook something suitable up by then."

"You're on, Flyboy," she answered, smiling as she went toward her office.

Harm stood there, remembering that Clay had called him "Flyboy" as well. The memory brought back his concern, and Harm went to his office, intending to call Clay's mother, just to find out if she had heard from him. But he hung up the phone without dialing - unsure of how to explain the reason for his question. "I'm Clay's gay lover and I'm worried about him" didn't sound like something he wanted to say. Clay had told him that his mother knew that he was gay, and accepted it, and that she knew that he was involved with someone, but to Harm's knowledge, he'd never told her *who* he was involved with.

He finally opened the Donaldson file, intending to go over it again. Maybe Mac was right. Maybe he'd missed something. But he doubted it.



1800 Local time
North of Union Station
Washington, DC

Harm entered the loft, glad that the reporters had found another story to chase, and dropped the sack of groceries on the counter. There was no message on the answering machine, and Harm decided to put away the perishables he'd bought, then take a shower before starting dinner.

Taking the steps up to the bedroom on autopilot, Harm removed his jacket, tossing it onto the bed. A moan from that bed made him stop in his tracks.

Turning slowly, he looked and saw something under the covers. "Clay?" he asked in a soft voice, moving to sit on the side of the bed and pull the sheet away to reveal Clay.

"Can't a man get any sleep around here," Clay muttered, opening his eyes to blink at Harm.

"How long have you been here?" Harm asked, rubbing Clay's back with gentle circles.

"What time is it?" Clay wanted to know, blinking at the clock.

"Just after six," Harm told him.

Clay turned onto his back, stretching. "Almost an hour, then. I called Mother on the way here and decided to surprise you. Thought you could use a surprise after today. Figured I'd lie down for a few minutes before you came home. Must've fallen asleep."

"I guess you heard, then."

"That Ryerson was found guilty? There was never any doubt he would be, was there?"

"No. Not after he admitted being gay on national TV. He got an Honorable, though. That's something that's never happened before."

"And now he's going to take it all the way to the Supreme Court if necessary to try and get things changed," Clay pointed out - his hand on Harm's arm. "For everyone." His hand slid up Harm's arm and around his neck, pulling him down onto the bed for a kiss. "I missed you," he said when it was over. "I've found out that I don't sleep as well when I'm away from you."

Harm smiled as he rested his forehead against Clay's. "You, too, huh?" He gave Clay another kiss, then pulled away. "I was going to take a quick shower. Wanna join me?" he asked, grinning as he stripped out of his shirt on the way to the bathroom. The grin changed into a smile as Clay followed.

"I've decided to put in for that supervisory position," he told Harm. "It'll keep me in DC a lot more."

"You don't have to do that," Harm told him, his hands caressing Clay's back as he gently washed it.

"I want to," Clay answered. "I need to spend more time with Mother - and with you." Turning around, he looked up at Harm. "Speaking of Mother. She asked me to invite you to go riding with us on Sunday."

Harm's hands stopped moving. "Your mother? You told her about- us?"

"Didn't I mention that?"

"No. I mean, you said she knew that you were - but -"

"Harm, she understands the need for discretion. She likes you. Thinks you're good for me."

Harm smiled, and then looked a little embarrassed. "I guess that means I need to tell my mom and Frank."

"Only if you're ready for that step. I just thought it might be a good idea if we have someone else that knows that we're together. Someone sympathetic."

Harm gave Clay a long kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of Clay's lips and mouth before he slid down to his knees. Looking up into Clay's eyes, he saw them change to green, and gently pushed him back so that his back was resting on the glass divider between the bedroom and shower.

Taking Clay's hard cock in his hand, Harm caressed it for a moment before touching it with the tip of his tongue. Clay groaned, placing his hands flat against the glass blocks. Harm's tongue circled the sensitive head, before Harm took him fully into his mouth. Clay's hands moved to Harm's head, where they tangled in his hair.

"Damn, Harm. Oh, yeah." His breathing was shallow, and as Harm felt Clay approach his release, he pulled back until just the head of Clay's cock was in his mouth. Reaching between Clay's slightly spread legs, he slipped a finger into the tight ring of his anus and Clay jumped, crying out as he came.

Once spent, Clay stood there against the glass, his mouth hanging open as Harm rose slowly back to his feet to face him. He pulled Clay into his arms, holding him tightly until the smaller man stopped shaking.

In a passion-choked voice, Clay asked, "So I guess that was a 'yes' to the riding invitation?"

Harm laughed. "I think so." He looked down at his lover. "I need you, Clay. Now."

Clay turned off the water and led the way back to the bed.

1945 Local time
North of Union Station
Washington, DC

Mac knocked on the door to Harm's apartment, frowning when there was no answer. His Vette was parked downstairs - so he was home, so why wasn't he responding to her knock, she wondered. Remembering the strange mood that he'd been in all week, she dug out the key to his apartment that he'd given her ages ago and opened the door.

The loft was dark, and Mac's concern increased. "Harm?" she called softly, in case he'd decided to go to sleep and just overslept. Moving toward the raised bedroom area, she was on the first step when she heard movement from that direction, and saw a raised head in the diffused light from outside.

Only the face wasn't Harm's. It was that of Clayton Webb. Mac blinked as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she saw that Webb was lying on his side, Harm's arm around his waist. With a strangled gasp, Mac wheeled around and ran out of the apartment.

"Damn," Clay muttered, getting out of bed and grabbing his clothes.

"Clay?" Harm murmured, stirring as Clay hit his shin on a chair while trying to put on his slacks. "What's wrong?"

"I just remembered something I have to do," Clay said, never considering the idea of telling Harm what had just happened. "Go back to sleep. I'll be back before you know it." He dropped a quick kiss on Harm's forehead and ran out into the hallway, hoping he could catch Mac before she did something irreversible.

Mac fumbled with her car keys, having trouble finding the one that would unlock her Vette. She dropped them once, and cursed softly as she tried to find them. When she finally did, Mac opened the door and got into the car.

But before she could start the engine, Clayton Webb was standing there, his hands on the glass. "Mac! Don't! Please!"

Her fingers on the ignition, Mac considered ignoring his plea. But one look into his eyes, and she sat back in the seat, rolling down the window.

"We need to talk," he said.

"I know what I saw, Clay," Mac said, her eyes straight ahead. "You and Harm-"

"What are you going to about it?" Clay asked her, not denying anything.

"I know what I'm required by regs to do," she said, looking at him at last. "How long has this been going on?"

Clay shrugged. "Six months."

"You're Carol," Mac realized.

Clay gave her a nervous smile. "Yeah. I guess I am. Look, Mac, you can't report this. It'll kill Harm if you do. You know that."

Mac gripped the steering wheel, needing to hold onto something as her world began to spin out of control. "I never suspected," she said. "Never saw it coming. Hell, we were all three in on a case six weeks ago, and I -"

"Mac, Harm and I agreed when this started to keep it separate from our careers. Mostly for his sake. It's been driving him crazy, not being able to talk to you, to tell you about us."

She shook her head. "How long- how long have you been-"

"Gay?" he asked. "You can say the word, Mac. I think I've always known that I preferred the company of men over women. I've had a few relationships, with other men and with women, but they weren't serious. With Harm's it's - different."

"And what about Harm? He hasn't always -"

"I think maybe he has - it just took him awhile to realize it and admit it to himself. If it makes you feel any better, I'm the first man he'd ever *really* been with since well before he joined the Navy. Truthfully - I think he's more bisexual than anything else."

Mac sat there, looking at him. "Are you in love with him, Clay?"

"Yes," Clay responded without hesitation. "So much that it scares the hell out of me most of the time."

"Good. Because no matter how this turns out- if you ever do anything to hurt him - I'm a Marine. And I can hurt you. Badly."

Clay's expression became guardedly hopeful. "Does that mean you'll keep quiet about this?"

"I don't know yet what I'm going to do," she admitted. "But I do know that I need to talk to Harm before I make any decision."

Clay hesitated a moment, worrying about Harm's reaction to finding out that Mac knew his secret. But he also knew that she was right, and opened the door for her. "Then let's go upstairs and do it now."

*****

After Clay left, Harm rolled over, and suddenly remembered that Mac was supposed to be coming over for dinner. He picked up his watch from the bedside table, and discovered that it was almost 2000 hours. Mac would be arriving any minute, and he hadn't even started dinner - and Clay would be back, as well, whenever he finished what he was doing.

Getting up, Harm slipped on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, then went to the kitchen to start making dinner. Spending the evening with Mac and Clay wouldn't be too bad, he supposed, taking a beer out of the refrigerator.

He had just put a pan on the stove to boil some water for rice when the door opened and Clay came in. "Bout time you got back, lover," he said, after a quick glance at the door. "I could use some help with dinner - Mac's coming over to talk about a case -" Harm looked up, smiling, and saw Mac standing there. "M-Mac." His eyes slid to Clay, trying to come up with some reason for the endearment she had just overheard.

"She knows, Harm," Clay said, his voice loud in the sudden stillness of the loft.

"Knows?" Harm repeated, knowing that he sounded dimwitted. But he couldn't think, couldn't string two words together coherently. "Knows- what?" he finally managed.

"That you and Clay are lovers," Mac told him, watching him from across the room.

Harm looked at Clay again, but he raised his hands, shaking his head. "I didn't tell her, Harm. She came in and found us in bed. I woke up and followed her out to talk to her."

"That's where you- Mac- I-" He swallowed heavily. "I'll submit my resignation tomorrow," he told her.

"And do what?" she asked as Clay moved to stand at his side, turning off the burner under the pan before putting a protective arm around Harm's waist. "I can't see you as a private sector lawyer, Harm. I hated it. You'd hate it more."

"I don't have much choice, do I? Besides, I can always get a job flying. The airlines are always looking for pilots - I don't want you to risk your career Mac."

"I have to know, Harm - the Ryerson court martial-"

"That's not fair, Mac," Clay said before Harm could reply. "You know that Harm would never throw a case for personal reasons."

"Mac, can you point to anytime in that trial where I did less than I could have?"

She considered his words. "No. Unless it was in constantly pointing up that Ryerson was a decorated hero who had risked his life countless times in service to his country."

"And he had. Just because he realized that he was gay and fell in love with another man doesn't make him any less a hero, does it? Mac, it tore me up having to stand there and argue for discharge when I knew that with very few changes, I could be him. That it could have been me on that stand, on trial."

"I understand now where all of that came from when we were on our way to Yuma," she said. "You weren't talking about Ryerson. You were talking about yourself."

Harm held out his hand in supplication. "Mac,-"

"Tell you what, Flyboy," she said. "Why don't you finish making dinner for the three of us - and then we'll talk about it."

Clay pushed Harm away from the stove toward the living room. "I have a better idea. Why don't *I* make dinner while the two of you discuss that case you mentioned. What were you going to fix, Harm?" he asked.

"Chicken-rice pilaf," Harm answered, giving Mac an uncertain look.

She went to the couch and sat down. "My briefcase is downstairs- I can go get it," she suggested, but Harm picked up his own leather case from the bar and joined her.

"I have mine here. If you think you can trust your memory-" he said, giving her a teasing smile.

"I think I can manage," she replied.

"Can I get you something to drink, Mac?" Clay asked, already looking in the fridge for ingredients for dinner.

"Mineral water," she nodded, taking the file that Harm handed her after sitting down in a nearby chair.

"Another beer, Harm?" Clay asked.

"I'm good," Harm said, holding up the half-full bottle. "Thanks anyway."

Clay winked at him as he gave Mac a bottle of water. "I just thought I'd offer whatever I could."

Mac watched as Harm's ears turned bright red and he ducked his head, pretending a sudden interest in the paper in his hand. But when Clay turned back toward the kitchen, she saw the way Harm's eyes lifted to follow him, and for a moment envied Clay that hungry look. Harm realized that she was watching him, and gave her an embarrassed smile. "You really do love him, don't you?" she asked in a quiet voice, maintaining eye contact with the man she considered her best friend in the world.

"Yeah. I've never been able to just be *me* with anyone before, Mac. If I have to give up my career to stay with him, I'll do it. I won't like it, but we can't have everything, can we?"

Mac studied him for a moment, and indicated the file. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

Harm nodded, forcing himself to relax as he laid out his ideas about the Donaldson case. By the time Mac was laying out her own ideas, everything else was out of his mind.

As he worked in the kitchen, Clay stole a few glances toward the living room, telling himself that it wasn't jealousy that caused his close attention. He knew that whatever feelings that Harm might have once held for Sarah Mackenzie, they were in the past. Hell, he'd even had a slight 'thing' for the woman once. Thank goodness he hadn't messed up any chance of a future with Harm by pursuing *that*, he thought as he stirred the chicken.

**********

Mac sat at the dining room table finishing writing up the agreed on report, keeping an eye on Harm and Clay as they cleaned up the kitchen together after dinner. Clay's chicken-rice pilaf had been delicious - even Harm had agreed as he'd eaten the portion that Clay had prepared for him without the chicken.

Now, it was almost as if they had forgotten she was there, she decided, watching Clay caress Harm's six as he passed in the narrow space. She smiled as Harm gave Clay a quick kiss before turning on the dishwasher.

Clay gave the counter a final wipe, and said, "There. It's done."

"You two make a good team," she told them.

"Just good?" Clay asked. "I thought we were darn near perfect."

"I guess I'm lucky," Harm told Mac, smiling, putting his arm around Clay's shoulders. "It's not often a man gets to be part of two perfect teams." He took a deep breath and looked at Mac, lifting an eyebrow as he spoke. "So, Mac, should I start working on my resignation?"

"No. Harm, you're my best friend. You've been there for me when no one else has, saved my six more times than a Marine should have to admit. I figure I owe it to you to give you as much support as I possibly can."

"Thank you, Mac," Harm said, feeling Clay release his breath in relief. "You won't regret -"

"I haven't finished yet, Harm," she told him, cutting him off. "I won't tell anyone about you. I'll even run interference for the two of you. The word *you* have to remember is discretion. If this gets out- we'll both be out of a job. After watching the two of you this evening and everything that's happened this last week, I've come to realize that you're right: you shouldn't have to choose between serving your country and being with the person you love."

*******

Much later, Harm and Clay lay wrapped in each other's arms, nearly asleep. "You are lucky, you know, Harm," Clay said. "I don't think I'd have been as willing to give you up as Mac was."

Harm gave him an amused look. "Mac never had me, Clay. Oh, we danced around, but it wasn't until I faced the truth about myself that I discovered what real dancing was. You don't have any reason to be jealous of her."

"I know that now. All I want is to spend the next couple of years spending whatever time we can together until you decide you're ready to retire."

"Two years, tops," Harm promised.

"And then?" Clay asked.

Harm thought for a second. "How do you feel about private investigations?" Harm asked.

The End

Disclaimer: I don't own Harm, Clay, Mac or any of the JAG characters. Jerry and Evan and Carl Michaels are mine, however. Who knows? I may want to use them again....