Cigars, Bones, Babies and Jimmy Blackhorse.

Lt Cdr Teresa Coulter meets LtCdr Harmon Rabb during "The Return of Jimmy Blackhorse". After the completion of the case, she invites him out for dinner and she successfully overcomes his initial reluctance to get involved with her. They have more in common than cigars!

A/N: "they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them - apart from any character created by myself".

Summary: this is a fictional story, in a fictional (slightly) Alternative Universe, about fictional characters who entertained us in a fictional TV series between 1995 and 2005. It involves a minor diversion from canon, at the tail end of episode S03p21, which introduced us to the character of Lt Cdr Teresa Coulter, MD, USNR.

Canon: Marking the 19th anniversary of the JAG season 04 episode "Nobody's Child", first broadcast on 02-Mar-1999 (IMDB) and approaching the 20th anniversary of the JAG season 03 episode "The Return of Jimmy Blackhorse" (S03Ep21), first broadcast on 28-04-1998 (IMDB).

This Season 03 episode introduced us to the character of Lt Cdr Teresa Coulter, portrayed by Trisha Yearwood. Her character was to work alongside Harmon Rabb in some six episodes and adventures over around five years in the time arc that was "JAG". She mainly worked with him on "human interest" cases where her forensic skills helped enhance the plot, such as S04E17 "Nobody's Child" in February 1999, where Teresa made the observation "You're an interesting specimen Commander; does anyone get close?" (which struck me as a remarkably observant and prescient comment, then planted the seed for this foray into AU land). I have cherry-picked a couple of lines of back-narrative from the excellent "Enough is Enough" re-imagining by the late, great and much-missed fellow UK-based writer, Trevor aka byrhthelm.

Background: Teresa Coulter, a USN reservist forensic pathologist holding the rank of Lieutenant Commander, was first called in to assist in identification of the remains of Jimmy Blackhorse ("The Return of Jimmy Blackhorse - S03Ep21") and was upset over missing her godson's school play. She was apparently smitten with Harm but he was oblivious. She smoked cigars and told him that her father was in the "8th year of a life sentence for killing her mother" and that she "had already judged herself" . She also told Harm she "wished she wasn't so attracted to him." The pressure of her father's trial had destroyed her marriage. The interplay between her character and Harmon Rabb's character was well-crafted, well-written and beautifully acted, along with her observations of the Navajo people: "these people think differently" and "they don't have a lot, but what they do have is good".

Published as a planned one-shot with a "T" classification (they get "down and naughty"). A follow-up is possible, depending on reviews received within the first month after publication.

Timing: This AU story diverges from canon after the court hearings are closed in the Navajo Nation after the Jimmy Blackhorse case. Subsequently, the lives of Harm and Teresa take a different path...

TC&HR-TC&HR-TC&HR-TC&HR

Part One - "Arizona encounter"

Friday, 28th April 1998 - 15:25hrs local

Native Court, Navaho Nation, Yuma, AZ

The chocolate cigar was a nice touch - she had fooled him completely when she handed it to him at the end of the case! Just as she had wrong-footed him in the laboratory as she calmly extracted the bone-marrow DNA and paid him the ultimate compliment by confessing that she was attracted to him.

She had found the experience frustrating. It was just too bad that he stepped away from her closeness and seemed to pine, like a long-lost puppy, for the dark-haired part-Cherokee Marines Major JAG who seemed to hang around his tall, lanky frame like a camp-follower who had never worked out how to "close the deal". Teresa had been surprised to hear the Major talk about her Cherokee heritage. When Teresa had first met Harm's co-counsel Sarah "the Mac" MacKenzie, USMC JAGC, the woman had looked more Persian than Cherokee (in Teresa's professional medical opinion).

Teresa considered her situation and assessed her options, as the tall object of her desires continued to play with his chocolate cigar. She noted that he savoured the chocolate cigar for a while, nibbling then finally swallowing as the warm April Arizona air finally softened the stiff chocolate. He licked his fingers and winked at the mildly-disapproving glare from his Marine JAG partner. Teresa handed him a tissue: he nodded gratefully and gave her his trademark wide smile; she felt something inside her melt and had to concentrate on keeping her knees stiff as he turned back to Mackenzie to make some legal point.

Teresa watched the by-play between the two JAG lawyers. She snorted in derision; why couldn't this healthy, apparently-unattached man just *yield" and let her make him realise that there *were* stars in the heavens and that, with judicious application of some pheromones and endorphins, she could take him into low earth orbit with just one (very solid) rocket booster? She was a trained physician (and pathologist) and she *knew* how the human body worked! Oh yeah baby, she could make his body sing - if only he would allow her the chance!

With her professional reputation established in the Memphis PD as a forensic pathologist, her father in the 8th year of a life sentence for killing her mother and with her marriage to Rory in ashes long ago, all she wanted for completion was a warm body in her bed occasionally (preferably a body containing a sharp mind to give her intellectual stimulation whilst also satisfying her carnal needs). A succession of unsatisfactory couplings (mainly drawn from the detective squad in MPD who appeared to be running a book on how far she would "go") had left her frustrated over several years.

With neither brothers, sisters nor Mom to consult with, Terri was seriously beginning to wonder whether life was passing her by. Oh, the view from the shelf (or, more accurately. the basement ME lab - why was it always in the basement, she wondered) was fine, but something was lacking. Then the tall ex-Tomcat-driving lawyer from JAG had wandered into her laboratory for this Navajo case and had leaned, ever-closer, into her space until she could feel her body responding to his presence...

Teresa had hoped that her godson's school play might open doors with unattached intelligent males amongst the single parents, but this recall to the USN reserves and the flight out to Nowhere Arizona (in her considered - or biased - opinion) had blown that plan out of the water. Looking around the Navajo tribal gatherings during this case had also reminded her that the next generation of children were growing and developing, whilst she stayed hidden away in her laboratory, speaking eloquently on behalf of the dead.

However, she had found that she had enjoyed her time mixing with the tribal council and the tribal people, realising that their lives ran to a different order. Her views had shifted, permanently, during her brief foray into Arizona. She had begun to realise that families could be good and kind; perhaps her experiences as the only offspring of Capt Thomas Chaddock and Ellen Chaddock was not typical and had bequeathed her a dismally biased view of families. Additionally, her experience of Rory "I run away from pressure" Coulter had not given her any faith in the institution of marriage.

She shrugged her shoulders and looked once more at the tall JAG Commander as he chatted easily with the Major. She noted that their body language was relaxed, but each respected the other's space; they were close, but not touching. Teresa felt that a psychologist would have a "field day" studying the "Harm & Mac" pairing, as their colleague Lt Bud Roberts had described them. She had also enjoyed watching Bud's interactions with Lt Harriet Sims, especially after their doomed foray into Las Vegas to get married quickly.

For the first time in her 31 years of life, Teresa Coulter was beginning to understand the expression "ticking clock" in relation to the biological imperative. Losing her mother at the age of just 22 had robbed her of Mom's wise counsel as she grew into her life as a married woman, so when Rory had run, she saw no reason to look beyond a "quickie" divorce. But that removed the obvious route to creating the next generation. Teresa realised that she was now in her fourth decade of life: she couldn't keep hitting "snooze" forever on her fertility clock.

Several years on from her divorce from Rory, she was feeling irritated with the singleton life. She had talked over her frustrations at a recent forensics conference in DC, where an older pathologist/ME, a Dr Donald "Ducky" Mallard of NCIS, had listened attentively and had offered several counter-arguments and opinions - both before and after a spirited (and well-structured) attempt to entice her into his hotel room. "Ducky" had reminded Terri that gentlemen do exist - her view was confirmed by his courteous behaviour which continued even after she had politely declined his offer. Ducky had continued the evening in convivial manner and paid for their meal before thanking her for her time, company and opinions as he headed for his solo bed.

Then suddenly, just as she was beginning to believe that no-one would truly appreciate and enjoy her womanly charms, this Fly-boy god had landed in her temporary laboratory, seeking *her* expertise in solving *his* case of the WWII code-talker whose body had been retrieved in New Zealand. In the forensics laboratory, their bodies had moved closer as she had prepared the samples, his cologne filling her senses until she realised that moistening was about to cause her a problem. She felt that she had the right to make the first move and declare her attraction to the Navy JAG flyer.

His hesitant, surprised rebuff acted as a bucket of cold water over her ardour. She rationalised that the Commander would remain professionally resolute in their dealings: to him, she seemed to be regarded somehow like a nun: inviolate, chaste, locked up from the temptations of passionate coupling and...

Whoa! where did that come from? She, LtCdr Teresa Coulter MD, USN reserve, was a healthy woman in her prime; in these liberated 1990s, she was just as free (and entitled) to initiate a contact with a handsome man as the next handsome guy was to make a pass at her. And this Rabb guy definitely floated her boat. There was no risk of a Tailhook-type fallout, because they were not only in different chains of command and she lived several states away, for crying out loud! This Rabb guy was definitely worth a second push, because she wouldn't be kicking him out of her bed too soon in the morning...

With the Blackhorse court case satisfactorily settled and the JAG crew lining up to return to DC the next day, her window of opportunity was small, finite but achievable. She noted that the "Mad Major" was heading off with Paul Begay (apparently to carry out some personal Cherokee-Navajo research - the exact nature didn't really worry Terri, because it left her target in the open without his brunette Marine comfort blanket).

She planned her next approach as they walked back into the courthouse to retrieve their papers after the heart-warming tribal gathering which had welcomed Jimmy Blackhorse (the New Zealand-based son) and his mother to the Arizona heartland after their long journey from the "Land of the Long White Cloud" for the reconciliation with the widow of Jimmy's twin brother. Harm had discussed his attraction to cigars earlier and Teresa had retrieved a couple of Cohiba SIGLO II cigars (acquired during a trip to London where she had found a small cigar shop near Victoria) from the small humidor in her briefcase and had them nestled inside her jacket, warmed inside her uniform blouse and steadily absorbing her musk - within ten hours he would be able to smell her (*and only her*, she thought to herself hopefully) around his cigar stash. So, the part-Cherokee Marines Major could take her pinched-face disapproval and ... Steady Terri, focus on the target! It's the man, not his harem!

With papers secured, briefcase filled and locked, Harmon Rabb Jr left the courtroom, shook her hand and accepted the real cigar from her as he headed for the fresh air outside the court. Running the cigar beneath his nose, he inhaled deeply and then realised that here was a sweet, aromatic note to the cigar aroma. Hang on, that smelt like..." his eyes swivelled around trying to locate Teresa Coulter in the madness of the main rodeo. Then he spotted her cover, moving through the crowd as she stopped and turned in his direction.

Beneath the brim of her uniform hat, her eyes sought him out and playfully twinkled. He realised that she was not going to leave him alone without trying once more to introduce him to her womanly charms. He realised that, to be honest, she had surprised him in the laboratory and caught him off-guard with her direct play for his affections. On calm and sober reflection he realised, why should a woman *not* make a pass at a man whom she found attractive?

He considered the situation. It was a Friday night. The Blackhorse case was over and the Admiral responsible had a good PR story which smoothed over the political (note, small "p") challenges. Harm reconsidered; maybe he had been a little hasty. He needed to listen, at least, to her offer and evaluate her proposition. He suspected that, hidden beneath her conformant Naval uniform, a very fit and responsive body lay. His mother had, long ago, taught him to seek a woman with what she termed "child-bearing hips" and, from any angle, Teresa Coulter had the body. Perhaps his original reticence had been misguided and she had caught him unprepared? Teresa Coulter was definitely worth a second (and maybe a third!) look now that the Blackhorse case was closed.

Terri was perfectly calm, professional and logical, as she used her cigar clipper to prepare the end of her cigar before lighting it. "Bait the hook then let the fish nibble". She smiled at him as she pitched her proposition: "Commander, I hate to eat alone and it looks like your colleague has headed off to research the Denae - or maybe she just fancies the Silicon Valley lawyer from that tribe! Would you be amenable to keeping me company over dinner at the motel, perhaps?"

She paused, giving him a way out in the interests of fair play as she lit her cigar: "I promise, if the prospect doesn't appeal, I shall just turn round now, walk away and will never darken your hatch again". Behind her back, she kept her fingers crossed.

She was rewarded when his face cracked into a lovely smile and he nodded, taking her proffered cigar cutter and preparing his cigar as he decided to delay (only for a day, honest!) his abandonment of cigars. The buxom blonde Tennessee temptress standing before him was just too irresistible and Mac probably wouldn't find out about his lapse!

He realised that Terri's original approach (in the laboratory) had been polite, respectful and he recalled that she had accepted his original brush-off in the same polite manner. Such a change from the last smoking blonde to tilt her hat at him. Merely the thought of Allison Krennick and her persistent cougar-like stalking of him made his toes curl; perhaps Teresa Coulter deserved a second conversation, now that the case was closed? After all, if she was the hunter he could quite easily imagine himself becoming the willing prey. He decided to roll over and play. Now, what did he want from her in return? He drafted his reply carefully.

"Commander, that would be lovely and I also hate eating alone in a strange town. Might I please confess that I was pleasantly-surprised by your earlier approach in the laboratory but was just caught off-guard in a professional setting? So I believe it would be a lovely evening for us to meet up, now that the case is closed and we are off-duty; shall we meet in the bar at 19:00hrs? I'll be dressing casually".

"So will I - and it's Terri now that we have been introduced formally!"

"OK, please call me Harm; I shall meet you at 19:00hrs, Terri".

They separated, to prepare for the evening.

Friday, 28th April 1998 - 18:59hrs local

Totem Motel, Navaho Nation, Yuma, AZ

He walked into the bar a minute ahead of time and looked around for the blonde LtCdr. He wanted to let her take the lead during the early part of the evening, so that he could find out her plans for the rest of the evening.

A wide-brimmed hat entered the bar and was removed, allowing a cascade of blonde locks to tumble down over the shoulders of a cowboy-style embroidered blouse which was tucked into the waist of a pair of jeans which were definitely snugly fitted to a female form. Walking towards him, wearing what were "definitely" non-standard pumps with three-inch stiletto heels, Cdr Teresa Coulter rocked her way into Harmon Rabb's field of view, with her hand outstretched in greeting.

Terri had planned her outfit, supplemented by a purchase from the local souvenir shop at the trading post. She wanted to be clear in what she was laying out for Harmon Rabb Jr. Anything that this amateur bitch-Major could do, so could the well-endowed pathologist with the deep pools of passion burning in her eyes as Harm leaned in and prepared to dive...

Harm was lost!

Within two minutes, the Tennessee Temptress had him lassoed, hog-tied, roped and branded. They chose their drinks at the bar and then strolled into the dining area, selecting an intimate booth where they sat, facing each other, reviewing the learning points of the case, getting to know each other, exchanging family histories and selecting the dishes from each course of their meal. Several hours passed as they lingered over each course of their meal, during which time Terri played with her hair, unbuttoned several buttons on her blouse (she was, of course, wearing a demure white t-shirt beneath the blouse, but Harm started to feel that he was witnessing his very own "dance of the seven veils" laid on just for him).

He cleared his throat with some difficulty and tried to get his brain out of his trousers and focussed on asking an intelligent question, in order to move the conversation forward.

"Terri, you said that your father is serving life for murdering your mother?"

"Yes, he is in the eighth year of a life sentence; I was 22 when he killed her. It also killed my marriage."

"I am so sorry to hear that - you seem to have found your niche as a forensic pathologist. Did one cause the other?" Harm enquired.

"Yes; the Navy paid my way through med school, then I did a body-swerve into forensics because I realised that no-one usually speaks for the victim. The USN Reserves role keeps me on my toes and enables me to serve my country occasionally, as well as concentrating on the people of the great city of Memphis and the great state of Tennessee".

Harm nodded sympathetically: "I lost my father over Vietnam when I was five; at least you had your parents as role models?"

Terri snorted in derision: "Barely; he started drinking when I was in Junior High, so in a way I lost him to the bottle in my teenage years. Mom was lovely, but she became an obedient, dependent doormat - and you really can't see me fitting that role model, can you?" She finished her question with a toss of her hair.

Harm smiled knowingly and shook his head. Terri continued: "The pressures drove me apart from Rory, who wanted to get away so badly that he took a job clear across the country; when Mom died, he just took off". She looked down at her fingertips which, Harm noticed, were beautifully manicured and then looked up at him: "You seem fairly well balanced; so how are you and your Major getting along?"

Harm smiled: "Mac and I have a great working relationship - we've been partnered since '96 and I trust her instincts whilst she supports my flights of fancy. She's quite intellectual whilst I'm more cerebral".

"So, ever tempted to cross the line with her?"

He smiled wistfully, shaking his head regretfully.

"Honestly, Terri, no; I once said to her, as we were protecting a visiting dignitary at a formal NATO Ball and we were dancing together, that I regarded dancing with her as dancing with my sister, which really pissed her off considering the dress which she had painted on just for my benefit (I'm an only child, in the interests of full and frank disclosure, you understand!); it was quite a dress".

He paused and took a deep breath before continuing: "Plus, Mac bears an uncanny resemblance to my late girlfriend Diane, so it took me a long time to separate the two before I kissed her".

"Oh, one whole kiss?" Teresa was curious. What was it about this tall, good-looking Californian man, who oozed charm and temptation, but seemed so reserved, almost withdrawn, in the social setting where they found themselves? Harm's next sentence started to explain his apparent social awkwardness.

"Not really; we caught up with Diane's killer, Mac had been soaked earlier in the rain so she borrowed a USN Lieutenant's uniform from Bud Roberts' fiancée Harriet (oh, I wish that they had successfully married yesterday in Vegas!) and the killer thought she was Diane's ghost when she turned up in the middle of my confrontation with him. He got scared, backed away from her and fell into the dock, where he was crushed between the ship and the dock wall. In the end, we realised that we would never know if the killer thought that she was Diane's ghost, and I was so stressed and disoriented by this stage that I just leaned in and took a risk. So Terri, that is one whole kiss with Mac in two years of co-working; not quite a check-mark, let alone a line, in your book of competing females, is it?""

Terri smiled: "yeah, that sounds like a good specimen of mixed working relationships". At least Harm was starting to open up. She could do this guy some good tonight - and scratch one of her itches at the same time. She concentrated on listening to his reply, drinking in the smile lines around his eyes.

"Oh, you like specimens?" Harm was looking deep into her eyes, challenging her to yield up some snippet of what made Teresa Coulter tick.

She smiled, leaned closer, took his hand and replied: "You're an interesting specimen Harm; does anyone get close?"

He drew back, looking regretful: "Well, not recently - and not for want of trying". Idly, he rotated the ring on the ring finger of her left hand. Her body stiffened and she leaned in closer to whisper in his ear. "Well Harm, the evening is yet young".

She leaned back in her chair, the unbuttoned blouse falling away around her t-shirt-clad assets. She found herself wishing that she had worn a slightly thicker bra - her body was rising to reflect the attraction to him.

As they grew more comfortable with each other, Terri's crossed legs were perfectly positioned to run her stiletto-shod foot up the inside of Harm's calf muscle, stroking and massaging his muscle with the side of her shoe then with the pointed tip. From the flushed expression on his face and his increased respiration rate, the physician inside Terri Coulter knew exactly the effect which she was having on him. However, Harm's leg never retreated. She noticed that his smile grew broader.

Now, the only remaining task was to select the dessert, accompany him through the coffee and then get him alone, where she wanted him. Terri was quite certain that "wanted" was the appropriate word when discussing her plans for the tall navy aviator turned JAG, who sat before her showing all the signs of raised endorphin levels and blood pressure, accompanied by rampaging hormones...

Harm barely remembered ordering the coffee.

Saturday, 29th April 1998 - 07:14hrs local

Room 17, Totem Motel, Navaho Nation, Yuma, AZ

He surfaced slowly, with a bright shaft of sunlight striking across the bed and illuminating a mane of blonde hair which lay across his chest, covering the face and leading down to the naked body of a sleeping pathologist who lay tightly curled around his body.

He nudged her. "Terri?" - no response; "Teresa, sweetheart, it's time to wake up". She began to surface slowly, as their bodies remained entangled. Each was, independently, sleepy yet satisfied by the previous night's encounter, which had migrated from the restaurant via the bar to the bedroom. Their adjoining bedrooms in the motel had been an added bonus.

A slurred, sleepy voice expressed her irritation at being disturbed. "Don't wanna; comfy here; fly me once more, Tomcat Lawyer boy" she murmured, stretching a naked leg across his belly and rubbing her knee across a sensitive part of his anatomy - which began, inevitably, to respond to the contact.

"Terri, I'm happy to come back to bed for 'round eight' but I *really* need the bathroom first - and we fly out at 14:00hrs". He lifted some of her hair out of her face and then flashed her a smile and made a promise: "I'll be quick".

Terri woke more fully, rolled off him and pulled a sheet over her body as she called after his departing six: "You were never quick last night!" Stretching her entire body with the grace of a contented cat, she smiled at him and watched as he completed his dash into the bathroom, then watched him sprint through the connecting door to his room as she surveyed the wreckage of their bed. Awaiting his return, she quickly set the small coffee maker to work and then made the same bathroom dash in her adjoining room before returning to the warmth of their bed.

A comfortable, companionable silence persisted for a few minutes as the two naval officers enjoyed their coffee. Then Terri opened the discussion.

"Harm; thank you for your company yesterday evening and last night. I have had a wonderful time. You have a great skill in making a woman feel wanted, loved and appreciated. You also helped me to lay a ghost from my past, so thank you once more. I hope that you got what you wanted out of this, because I definitely did and I suspect - from the big smile on your face at Oh Christ hundred hours whilst you were sleeping - you did too." She leaned in and kissed him. The discipline of naval life had ensured that they had both brushed their teeth whilst in the bathroom.

His arms snaked around her body and pulled her close as she set her coffee cup on the bedside table and concentrated on him once more. She settled on top of him, her long legs straddling him, squeezing him between her strong thighs and settling her breasts on his chest. She sighed, long and slow, as her body once more moulded itself to him. Once more, she felt herself heating up as her body prepared itself to receive him one more time.

"OK Mr Aviator Lawyer; who wants to be on top this morning?" she asked as her hands pressed his shoulders back into the bed and her hungry body pressed itself once more against his anatomy. He gazed up in wonder at her physical assets and whispered "not me - I am just fine, grounded down here" as she lowered herself and prepared to take him back into orbit.

Harm wondered whether every divorced woman blossomed so enthusiastically after her divorce. He was glad that Terri had not been entirely celibate since she divorced Rory - from her performance last night, he felt that such a circumstance would have been a crime inflicted on the men of this world and he briefly envied the men of the Memphis PD. Then he lost the power of conscious thought for a good ten minutes, as Typhoon Terri kicked Tomcat Rabb back into orbit and brought him back down for a smooth landing as Satisfied Harm.

An hour later, two freshly-showered US Navy officers walked into the breakfast room, ready to begin the day which would see them travel back to their respective locations in Memphis and DC.

Saturday, 29th April 1998 - 13:05hrs local (MT)

Passenger "terminal", MCAS Yuma, AZ

At the very moment that her flight was called, he caught her eye. As he headed to his gate, with his carry-on, the blonde bombshell sat in her neat USN uniform, hair swept up and pinned out of sight beneath her cover. She was looking at him, relaxed, with a plethora of bags around her feet, which she would be carrying onboard with her. She stood up to wave him goodbye, one hand smoothing down the creases in her skirt and marking her return to her status as a braced, formal LtCdr in the USN reserves after the wanton, giving, involving, teasing and very satisfying woman with whom he had shared (and wrecked) a bed the previous night.

He smiled and waved farewell. She smiled back and he held up a hand in the international "call me" sign, before she turned once more, finally heading for her gate at the start of her return routing to Memphis.

Harm had admired her womanly curves as she had turned away finally, to head towards her flight. His heart warmed as he thought back to the wonderful body (now concealed beneath the peanut butter uniform) which had given them great mutual pleasure during the preceding 18 hours.

Standing alongside him, Mac looked briefly at the rear view of the departing buxom naval reservist as she headed for her gate, opened her mouth to ask Harm about the previous night, then thought better of it as she remembered her own legal manoeuvres on behalf of the Cherokee Nation with the Navajo representative!

Gathering up Bud and Harriet, the two satisfied and relaxed JAG lawyers headed out onto the tarmac to their MAT flight.

The summer of 1998 was to provide the JAG corps with a challenging range of cases throughout the summer. All too soon, Harm was looking out over the gardens of JAG HQ at the turning colours of the leaves. He regularly thought of his blonde bombshell from Tennessee, but he respected the fact that she had not contacted him and he did not wish to intrude on her life in Memphis. He was satisfied that they had met, worked together and shared an incredible night.

TC&HR-TC&HR-TC&HR-TC&HR

Part Two - "Unexpected news"

Monday, 25th September 1998 - 07:24hrs EST

JAG HQ, Falls Church, VA

LtCdr Harmon Rabb was chatting with Admiral Chegwidden as they waited for the coffee to brew. Major Sarah Mackenzie was also standing in the small kitchen area, awaiting her first Marine-grade coffee of the day.

Petty Officer (first class) Jason Tiner stuck his head into the room. "Apologies for disturbing your coffee break Commander, but there is a call for you from a pathologist at Memphis PD - a Dr Coulter?"

Mac placed a hand on his forearm. "Harm, you go; I'll bring your coffee". Harm nodded, left his unfilled coffee cup and headed across to his office. Settling into the chair, he picked up the call and announced himself. He had an idea that Memphis only had one "Dr Coulter" so he assumed that he know who this would be, but he was delighted to hear, from her southern tones, that his suspicion was correct. Was she ready to discuss her father's case yet?

"Good morning Harm, it's Terri Coulter".

"Hi Terri, I am so pleased that you have made contact with me. So, how are things in Memphis this morning - you must be in quite early, I guess?"

"Yeah, early morning call: it's 0624hrs here and I have already had my one coffee of the morning - I really miss my second coffee these days. We had a couple of unidentified gunshot victims wheeled in at stupid o'clock this morning and this is my first chance to draw breath and grab a phone." Something at the back of Harm's mind picked up the reference to coffee, but his thought processes blundered onwards.

"Yeah, well I guess that an ME's work is, sadly, never done. So, are you calling to discuss opening your father's case?"

She suddenly seemed hesitant. "What, err, sorry, No - not my dad's case; he can rot in hell for all I care. No, this time round, it is something a little more personal."

Her next words rocked his world and brought him to his feet - just in time for Mac to bring in his coffee (which he had left behind in the galley) and hear him utter the immortal words which she, Sarah Mackenzie, might one day want to hear:

"You're *what*?"

"Yes Harm, I am delighted to report that I am pregnant with my first child, which will be a girl. I'm well into my 22nd week - safely past halfway along. The morning sickness is now a distant memory and I felt her kick this morning for the first time".

"How did this happen?". From the distant handset in Memphis, Harm heard Terri's derisive laughter echo down the phone line to DC.

"21 weeks ago. Harm, we are adults are we not? Do you really want me to draw a diagram? You do remember I am a doctor!"

"No, of course not; that was silly of me but your news has come as a bit of a shock. Hold on a moment please, Terri". He gratefully retrieved the coffee cup from Mac's stunned, nerveless fingers and then manoeuvred the shocked Marine out of his office, stretching the telephone cable to its maximum whilst he maintained the conversation with the Memphis ME. He closed the door behind him and walked back to the desk. Terri assumed the reason for his brief interruption and she guessed whom he had been dealing with: "Let me guess - Mac was there when I called you?"

"Yeah, she was; she is a good friend, but I obviously would want us to discuss calmly and rationally your situation just between you and me. So, you are - I assume - around five months along with my baby? How was the morning sickness? Are you having any cravings? What do the medics say? Are you having any problems?" Despite his whirling thoughts on the sudden consideration of impending parenthood, he remembered to think about the practicalities of early pregnancy side-effects.

"Actually Harm, it will be *my* baby and I don't want anything from you - ever - in connection with our baby. Morning sickness was a breeze - I even managed to never barf in the pathology lab, despite the smells down there! Of course, I have finally given up the cigars and I barely missed them at all given my maternal obligations for nine months and then afterwards if I am breastfeeding. My only cravings are for coleslaw, blueberries and spicy chorizo sausage so far; my fruit intake will make me the healthiest mom in the labour & delivery ward in January. I am grateful to you, because you were instrumental in getting me started on the path to motherhood. I needed a viable sperm donor and you fitted the specification: you also managed to hit the target perfectly, the mood was just perfect that night and being amongst the Navajo lands at that time in my life just hit my maternal instincts like a sledgehammer. But I shall always remember you".

"Terri, what may I do to help, assuming that you will allow me to assist and participate and support...?" Harm's sense of duty was running away with his mouth - as Terri had expected when she finally informed him about "the bump".

"Harm, frankly there is nothing that you *must* or *need to* do. You see, I am able, willing, financially independent and planning to set up and maintain a home on my own, for my child. Mom's death - and Dad's arrest and conviction - meant that I liquidated Mom's estate and I have a fully-funded home here in Memphis and a college fund established for "the Bump" - who is obviously showing now, which is another reason why I wanted to call. You are entitled to know that I am pregnant and also that I *need* nothing from you. You have your own life and you have your Mac (which I understand completely), and our ships only briefly passed in the night back in Arizona in April. However it was a very important night for my life plans back in April".

Harm raised a weary hand to his forehead. This woman was telling him that one of his great unachieved life plans was suddenly coming to fruition, yet apparently denying him the chance to participate. It was also clear that she had read Mac like a book during their brief time working together back in April.

"Terri, would you allow me to help, assist, participate, at least get to know our child? And once more, the Major is *not* 'my Mac' at all".

"Oh yes, I want 'The Bump' to know her Daddy; but my main point is that you do not *have* to do anything out of any feeling of obligation because I understand your strong sense of honour. Harm, I wanted to get that clearly out on the table and disposed of, over the phone, before we meet face to face. I wouldn't ever want to shock you or surprise you, my dear friend. I knew what I was doing that night and you were simply a convenient DNA donor to get me started on a healthy pregnancy. I would like to think that you enjoyed the transaction".

Terri's rock-steady self-confidence (which had, after all, led her to make a pass at Harm, not take his initial "no" for an answer and to entice him willingly into her bed) was shining through in the conversation. Harm smiled as he recalled that wonderful night in Arizona. It almost seemed that Terri had used him, got what she wanted out of him and then discarded him - surely that wasn't true? He felt his male ego deflating slightly at the thought of being "used and then cast aside, spent and unwanted".

"Yes I did - and I have often wondered whether to contact you, but I felt it better (and courteous) to leave it until you called me, so that there would be no risk of me appearing to stalk you".

She gasped: "Oh god Harm, you are such a gentleman. No, I would welcome your involvement absolutely - however it was important, to me, that you understood the opposite, because I would also completely understand if you had the opposite reaction. So, if this were to be the last time that we ever spoke (although I would not wish for that silent outcome, let me tell you) then I was prepared for your response." Harm had a sense that Terri Coulter was starting to babble like Lt Bud Roberts when he started over-thinking.

Harm was nodding. "Oh heavens no, please deal me in! I want to be involved as far and as deep and for as long as *you* will allow me to participate. OK, how can I best assist you and may I please come down to Tennessee soon to visit with you?"

"Actually, I may make it easier for you than a 12-hour drive! I'll be at a pathology conference on Friday and over the weekend at the Adams House; it was this timing which also prompted me to phone you. Would you be free this weekend? I'll be flying up during Thursday daytime and travelling home on Monday, setting off late morning from Dulles. I would absolutely love to see you again - and again after that for the rest of our lives assuming that the birth goes smoothly!".

Harm checked his calendar and offered up a prayer of thanks that a quiet weekend lay ahead.

"No Terri, I am absolutely clear this weekend. Oh, remember to bring warm clothing, because it is starting to cool down here in DC. Are you OK with flying when pregnant?"

"Yep, surely am; the advice (from my OB/GYN counterparts here at the hospital) is that we pregnant women are fine up until the 37th week (or week 32 with twins). Personally, I intend to stop flying at my 30th week (which would be Monday November 23rd), so there is no risk of harm to my - excuse me, our - baby at any stage on this September trip. Or again in October; or again in November (hint!). Oh god, Harm, I wish my Mom was still here; I really miss her so much and I know I'll really miss her when I am due at the end of January".

"Terri, I guarantee that your mom's spirit is sitting on your shoulder right through this wonderful journey. Please always remember that she will watch over you through this and beyond. I also suspect that, from this moment on, the spirit of Harmon Rabb senior will be standing at her shoulder to also watch over his only grandchild."

"Oh I will - you say the sweetest things, Harm. Look Harm, could we chat further about this away from work? The last gurney has just been wheeled in and I need to pick up my scalpel. Would you please entrust me with your home number and I shall phone you when I get into my apartment tonight?"

"Yes Terri of course and why don't I phone you so I'll pay for the call?; you know Terri, this really is great news".

"Yeah, I think so too Harm (or at least I did once the morning-sickness stopped); but let's chat tonight and work out a plan for the future".

"OK; I shall aim to call you around 19:00hrs. Err, Terri, may I ask a question please?".

"Sure Harm, ask away".

"Could I have a copy of the ultrasound please?"

As he finished that sentence, an electronic "ping" announced the arrival of an email.

"I was ahead of you, my dear Tomcat Lawyer! Look in your inbox Harm - and enjoy until we chat tonight".

"Hey, it is already on its way to the printer. Terri, thank you *so* much for involving me; I shall walk alongside you on this journey through your life".

"That would give me great pleasure and comfort. Bye Harm, call me tonight".

Terminating the call from Memphis, Harm walked out into the bull-pen, coffee in hand, in a mild state of shock. He realised that his hand, holding his coffee cup, was shaking as he sought out Mac's office. He had completely forgotten about the print job which he had dispatched to the laser printer.

His favourite Marine looked at him, eyebrow raised and with her eyes looking suspiciously moist. "Someone's going to be a Daddy, I presume?"

She was rewarded with the biggest, goofiest, happiest, widest flyboy trademark smile that Harm had ever bestowed upon her in their 21-month partnership.

"Yes Mac, and I may need your help and involvement and ideas for naming my little girl, Auntie Mac".

She frowned: "Well, I suspect that the mother of your child may have a different view/opinion of me but if she is OK with the idea then yes, of course, I would love to assist with naming your new baby". She sounded wistful, but Harm ignored her subtle vibes as he surfed the waves of his excitement at the news from Memphis. He suddenly came down to earth as a tear slipped down her cheek and he pulled out a clean white handkerchief which he offered her. She nodded gratefully and dabbed away the tear.

Shock at her discomfort began to cloud Harm's features, which he could not immediately trace the cause of as he continued to smile: "I'm going to be a daddy!"

Mac smiled and hugged him; "and you will be a *damn* fine father, Flyboy".

He suddenly remembered the printer and excused himself from Mac's presence. Heading out across the bull-pen, he realised that Harriet Sims and Carolyn Imes were among a group of people clustered around the printer and there was an excited chatter of voices; Harm realised that it would only be a matter of time before the Admiral began to take notice of the increasing noise and declining work output.

Carolyn held up the sheet of paper with the easily-recognisable image of an ultrasound-scanned foetus on it; at 21 weeks, the actual baby growing inside Terri Coulter would be around 10 inches long - the size of a large carrot.

"OK, who's printing out non-work-related material on my printer, or is this evidence in a paternity case?" laughed Carolyn, waving the page around in her outstretched arm. She did not expect the page to be plucked from her hand by the particular hand which descended from above her shoulder, to gently remove the sheet of paper which was grasped in her hand.

"Commander?" shrieked Carolyn and Harriett in unison. The proud, goofy gaze on his face caused Carolyn to stare, jaw agape, at Harm; Mr "I don't do commitment" Flyboy Lawyer Harmon Rabb jr was going to be a Dad? He gently placed an affectionate finger under Carolyn's chin and gently raised her jaw until her surprised mouth was closed. She smiled and hugged him in affectionate embrace. "Way to go, Harm; she must be a very special woman to take you on".

Harm smiled: "Oh yes Carolyn - very special and she has a great way with bodies".

Typically, the Admiral was walking past at that very moment. He looked at the paper in Harm's hand and noted the embarrassed blush on the face of his senior attorney and the happy faces of Harriet and Carolyn - then his gaze focussed on the wistful expression on Mac's face as she stood in the doorway of her office.

"Something to share with the JAG family, Commander?"

"Not in great detail just yet Admiral - let's just say I am acknowledging part of the Circle of Life".

TC&HR-TC&HR-TC&HR-TC&HR

END of "Cigars, Bones, Babies and Jimmy Blackhorse" phase one. A follow-up is possible (and part-written), depending on reviews received within the first month after publication.