A Secret Garden - Part 1Author: Ava Summary: Mac takes up gardening as a side job to help release her stress and finds herself assigned to AJ's yard while he's touring the country during baseball season. Author's comments: Assume that the 2004 Christmas episode didn't happen. I wrote that time period before the episode aired. And Joe Descucci is my own invention. Characters' speaking parts are in double quotes ("text"); characters' thoughts are in single quotes ('text'). Disclaimer: JAG and all its characters belong to Belisarius Productions, Paramount, CBS, Viacom, and probably endless others.
Thursday, 24 June 2004 Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie slowly made her way home through the heavy traffic. Her week so far had been horrible and things didn't bode well for its improvement. She ticked off in her mind all the things that went wrong:
Mac's musings halted abruptly when the traffic cleared and she was able to drive the last 3 miles home without stopping. She parked her car and made her way upstairs to her apartment. She decided to take a long, lingering bubble bath and relax in the hot water. But just as she slid into the tub and covered herself in bubbles, the phone rang. She shook her head decidedly. "No! I am not getting out of this tub to answer that phone. It's probably just Harm anyway wanting to get a pizza." She let the answering machine pick up. She listened for a voice after the beep, but didn't hear one. "I guess it wasn't important," she decided, scooting down further under the bubbles.
Thursday, 24 June 2004 Retired Admiral AJ Chegwidden laid the receiver back in the telephone cradle. "She's not there," he mused aloud. "Probably better this way, anyhow," he decided. "Mac lives too far away to have to come over here every week and check on things." He picked up the receiver again and dialed his neighbor's number. "Yeah? <smack>" a teenage voice answered. AJ recognized the voice as belonging to his neighbor's only son, but he wondered what the smacking sound was. "AJ Chegwidden here, Pete. Is your father there?" "Nope. <crack>" "How about your mother?" "Nope. <smack> Just me. <crack>" the boy answered. "What is that awful sound?" AJ asked. "What? You mean this?" And then came the loudest one so far, "<CRACK!>" AJ pulled the receiver away from his ear at the loud noise. "Yes, that!" "Gum. <smack> Don't you ever chew gum? <smack>" "Not since I was in grade school, no," AJ replied. "When do you expect your parents back?" "Probably sometime tomorrow <smack> or the next day. They went outta town. <crack>" "And left you at home?" AJ asked in amazement. "Well, duh! I'm in college now, you know," the boy replied indignantly. AJ noticed immediately that Pete didn't snap his gum during that reply. "No, actually, I didn't know." "Oh. Well, yeah. I am. I start my second year at Rutgers in August." AJ grinned to himself... still no snapping. "Rutgers? Good school. What are you studying?" "I'm in pre-law. Hoping to get in to the law school there, too. Hey, you were a lawyer, weren't you?" The boy's voice had taken on a more mature tone now. "Still am," AJ replied. "I retired from the Navy last month, but I'm still on the bar in several states." "Cool." "If you need any help or advice about your law studies, Pete, don't hesitate to call me," AJ offered. "Hey, that's great! Thanks!" "Listen, Pete, the reason I was calling was to tell your parents that I'm going to be out of town for a while. My daughter and I are going to tour the ball fields this summer." "Cool." "I was hoping your dad would keep an eye on the place for me. I have a lawn service contracted to come and take care of the yard, but since I'll be gone, I won't have any way of knowing if they actually do keep the yard neat." "Sure, Dad won't mind. <smack> I'll tell him when he gets home <crack>," Pete offered, reverting back to snapping his gum. AJ grimaced at the annoying sound. "That'll be fine, Pete. Thanks. And good luck as you start back to school." But Pete had already hung up as evidenced by the dial tone AJ heard in the earpiece.
Friday, 25 June 2004 Mac went over and over in her mind about the things she'd read online last night. She knew she could handle the dietary changes that the Women to Women Web site recommended. She would sure miss going to Beltway Burgers, though. But no red meat was a must, so she would give it up. And as much as she loved bread, that had to be cut way back, too, among other things. Harm would be delighted that she was going to start eating soy products. She made a mental note to stop at the GNC store on her way home to get some vitamins and mineral tablets. "And natural progesterone; don't forget that one," she mumbled to herself. Mac remembered what the Web site said about going for acupuncture; she wasn't too sure about that. "Needles... eeew!" she shivered as she turned onto Interstate 66 West. 'Didn't Harriett say she had acupuncture a couple of times when she hurt her knee while she was carrying baby Sarah?' Mac resolved to call Harriett when she got to the office and ask her about that. 'Needles.' She shivered again. Maybe she'd opt for the physical therapy instead. As Mac turned onto Broad Street, a large sign by the entrance to her favorite nursery caught her eye: "Help Wanted: Part time". Mac sighed. She wished she had time to work at a garden nursery. She used to love digging in the dirt when she lived in Arizona. But that was a long time ago, before she was even in the Marines. 'But wouldn't it be nice...'; her thoughts trailed off as she pulled into the JAG parking lot. She was right. Her week didn't improve with Friday. It only got worse:
"Right," she mumbled as she hung up the phone. "Reduce stress. Who doesn't want to reduce stress in their life?" She sighed, "But how?" It was several hours later when she remembered the Help Wanted sign.
Saturday, 26 June 2004 Mac entered the garden shop and smiled at the girl behind the cash register. "Hi. I'm Sarah MacKenzie. Is Charlie available?" "He's out in one of the greenhouses. Can I help you with something?" "I spoke with him on the phone yesterday afternoon. He asked that I come in this morning and told me to ask for him," Mac replied evenly. The girl picked up a walkie-talkie radio and pressed the button. "Charlie, come to the front desk; someone's here to see you." The radio squawked and Mac heard a voice crackle through the static, "Be there in five." Mac smiled her thanks to the girl and decided to walk around the garden shop while she waited. She picked up several of the tools and turned them over in her hands. She wondered if this was really a good idea. Sure, she'd enjoyed playing in the dirt when she was younger, but working at a garden center was something entirely different. She picked up several pairs of gardening gloves and examined each pair. The first pair she put back because they were too thin. She returned the second and third pairs to the rack because they weren't at all waterproof. She looked at the remaining two pairs in her hands, not noticing the man watching her from the other end of the aisle. Laying the other pair down, Mac turned the leather pair over and over. She slid her hand into the left glove and balled it into a fist, punching the palm of her right hand. She nodded to herself as she slipped the right glove on her bare hand. "These are really nice," she said softly. Then she removed them and tried on the other pair. Shaking her head, she continued talking to herself, "But these would be so much better for planting. They're waterproof, have a good grip to them, and they sure don't look like they'd wear out in one week like all those cotton ones." "They don't," Charlie grinned as Mac looked up, startled. "That pair is perfect for planting, just as you said. I have a pair I've been using for three years now, and they're still like new." He nodded toward the leather gloves she'd laid down. "Now those are better for shoveling, raking... that sort of thing." Mac hung both pairs back on the rack. "Decide against them?" Mac turned back and smiled. "I live in an apartment. I don't really have need of gardening gloves, I'm afraid." "You will if you want to work here." At Mac's surprised look, Charlie introduced himself and escorted her to his office. The interview went well, and an hour later, Mac followed him around the grounds as Charlie pointed out the different areas of the garden center. "I'm glad you're interested in working outside with the plants, rather than inside in the shop. I have plenty of help inside; what I really need right now is someone who doesn't mind getting their hands dirty." Mac smiled, "Ah, but they won't get dirty if I'm wearing one of those pairs of gloves!" "Touché!"
Friday, 27 August 2004 Harm followed Mac into her office. "Who is he, Mac?" She rounded her desk and sat in the chair. She looked up at Harm and shook her head. "Who is who?" "Your new boyfriend." "I told you, Harm. There's no one in my life right now. I need some time, that's all." "So, who's Charlie?" Mac sighed heavily. "Charlie is the owner of a nursery where I..." "A nursery!? Mac, what's going on? Why are you talking to someone at a nursery? Are you pregnant? Is that what this is all about? It's not endometriosis, is it," he demanded. "It's a baby." Mac stood up and put her hands on her hips. "It's a garden center, Harm. A nursery for plants." Harm had the grace to look embarrassed. "Oh." Mac smiled and slipped her hand in his. "I know you mean well, Harm. But I just really need some time. The doctor isn't all that sold on my delaying the surgery, but I'm hopeful that the changes I'm making in my life will allow me to skip the surgery entirely. I want to have a baby." Harm grinned and raised her hand to his lips. "So do I. With you." "Harm..." Mac tried to pull her hand back, but he held it firmly. "I know, I know. And as much as I want us to follow through on our deal, I don't want to see you in pain," he squeezed her hand in emphasis. "So don't wait too long, okay?" His concern for her was touching. And genuine. Mac's smile reached her eyes as she said, "Thanks, Flyboy." Mac sat back at her desk, and Harm probed a little further about the nursery. "So, why is this guy calling you from a garden center, Mac? Are you adding window boxes to your apartment or something?" he joked. "You know, I've been thinking about doing just that," she laughed. "I think it'll brighten the place up, don't you?" Harm just rolled his eyes. "Actually, I'm working at the nursery on the weekends," she confessed. "Working?" "Yeah." "You mean, as in... selling plants?" Mac stifled a laugh, "You make it sound like a horrible thing, Harm." "No, not horrible; just..." "Actually, I don't sell them. I worked in the sales area helping people choose plants for about a month, mostly so I'd learn about all the plants they sell. Then Charlie moved me into the landscape group. I do mostly planting now. Some commercial sites, but mostly I work at people's homes. We load up the truck in the morning and when we have everything planted, we're finished for the day." Harm looked dubious. "I just have a hard time imagining you sticking your hands in dirt... on purpose." She couldn't hold it in this time, and Mac laughed loudly. "I do wear gloves, Harm. It's not that bad." He looked skeptical, so she continued, "Really, it's not. I'm enjoying it immensely. I'm hoping that Charlie will give me a residence to manage on my own soon." "How long have you been moonlighting, Mac?" "Since the end of June." "Why haven't you said anything about it before now?" he asked, his tone almost sounding hurt. "I wasn't hiding it, Harm. The subject just never came up when you were around. Sturgis knows it, of course. I had to get an okay from him before I accepted the job." "You know, Mac, if you need money, all you have to do is ask..." "I'm not doing this for the money, Harm. I'm doing it to help relieve the stress in my life." "Is it working?" "I don't know. Sometimes I think it is. And other times, I'm just not sure. I guess it hasn't been long enough yet."
Monday, 13 September 2004 AJ opened the door of the taxi and climbed out. He stared at his yard in dismay. There were more brown patches in the yard than there was grass. The grass, what was left of it, was almost 6" high. "Damn!" he swore as he grabbed his duffle and stormed up the driveway. He was a week early returning home, and he was glad of it. He hadn't been too sure about the lawn service with whom he'd contracted, but this was proof positive. A car horn sounded and he turned to see his neighbor stopped at the curb. "AJ! Long time no see!" AJ walked over to the car. "Sure has, Lee. How've you been?" "Just great. So, where've you been? It's been ages since we've seen you." "I spent the summer touring the ball fields with my daughter... well, the first half, anyway. She had to go back to Italy mid-way through the season. Didn't Pete tell you where I was?" "Pete? How would Pete know? He's away at college." AJ sighed. "So I guess he never mentioned that I called back in June, hmm?" "June? No, he didn't... Oh, no... you wanted me to..." he groaned. AJ smirked. "I'm afraid so, Lee. I asked him to tell you so you could keep an eye on the place and be sure the lawn service kept the place tidy." He turned to look at his pathetic yard. "Obviously, they didn't do a good job." AJ turned back to the car. "I don't suppose you noticed how often they came?" "Only saw evidence of their being here twice. Once in July and once in August, as I recall. In fact, it's been a good month or more since they were out." "Obviously," AJ mumbled to himself. "You really ought to use the folks we have, AJ. They're great. I've used 'em for years and never had any complaints with their work. They're a little on the expensive side, but they're worth it." AJ lifted an eyebrow in question. "For Garden's Sake is the name of the place," Lee continued. "They're out of Falls Church, but they service yards all over the metro area." "I know the place. Used to pass it on the way to JAG, in fact. Thanks, Lee. I'll give them a call."
Saturday, 18 September 2004 Mac walked in to the office just as Charlie hung up the phone. "Oh good, you're here," he said looking up and seeing her. "Of course I'm here. It's Saturday," Mac chirped. "Where to today?" Charlie nodded toward the phone. "That was Craig. He was in an accident last night." Mac gasped, "Is he okay?" Shaking his head, Charlie replied, "Nope, afraid not. He's in the hospital. Broke a few bones... worst of it is that he has to be in traction for at least six weeks." "Oh, God, that's awful!" Mac sympathized. "How do you feel about taking over his crew?" Charlie surprised her by asking. Mac looked surprised. "Me? Charlie, I'm only here on the weekends." "I know that. But Craig's crew only works on the weekends. He works here at the nursery during the week. I can get someone to fill that spot. It's his crew that I need you for." Mac flushed with pleasure. "I'll give it a try." "Try, nothing!" Charlie snapped. "You'll do it and do it well!" Then he ruined his tough-guy act by cracking a grin. "You won't have any problem, Mac. His crew works well together, and they follow directions without question." "Yeah. Craig's directions. But what about mine?" she worried aloud. "They're good workers, Mac. They'll listen to you. And they'll recognize quickly that you know what you're doing." As Mac's new crew loaded their truck per her instructions, Charlie reviewed the schedule with her. "This last one is a new customer. His yard is a disaster, compliments of a fly-by-night lawn service. Craig met with the homeowner on Thursday and assured him that we can turn his yard around. The lawn crew mowed yesterday, and Craig intended on going by there today to see what is needed for the lawn. Reseeding for sure, but we need to check for disease, infestations, weeds... and why am I telling you what to look for?" he shook his head. Mac laughed lightly. "I don't mind, Charlie." She took the schedule from him, and asked, "I assume this new customer will be home and I should..." "No, he's out of town until November. He said to just get his yard back to looking presentable. And if he likes what he sees when he gets back, we might have him as a regular. How would you like to have a residence to manage on your own?" Mac couldn't help the smile that burst on her face. "I'd love it," she told him honestly. Charlie grinned, "I thought you might. Well, get going and let me know what you think you can do for the place when you get back this afternoon." Mac nodded as she climbed in the passenger seat of the truck. "Will do!" They were just leaving the nursery property when Mac read the name and address of her new customer. "Oh, my God!"
Saturday, 18 September 2004 Mac walked around the yard inspecting the bare patches. She found evidence of fungus and several fire ant hills. She also noticed lots of weeds crowding in with the grass. She could just imagine how perturbed the Admiral was when he returned home from an extended vacation to find his yard looking this bad. Well, he was going to be gone this time until the first of November. That gave her only a month and a half to get his yard into shape. Not enough time to reestablish the lawn, but certainly she'd be able to get rid of the fungus, ants, and weeds. She looked over the shrubbery, too, and decided it could all use some trimming up. Even the trees could stand some pruning. She would have the Admiral's yard looking presentable again by the time he returned home... assuming, of course, that Sturgis didn't send her out of town any time soon. And what she wouldn't give to be able to fix up the back yard! There was virtually no landscaping back there, just grass. 'But he'll probably do the yard work again himself when he gets home, so don't get your hopes up,' she told herself. When Mac and her crew returned to the nursery, she told Charlie what she'd found and gave her recommendations. "It shouldn't wait until next weekend, Charlie. Is there time on the schedule for tomorrow to go back out there?" Charlie perused the Sunday schedule. Sundays weren't full work days like the rest of the week: the crews didn't even arrive at the nursery until 12:30. "I don't see how, Mac." "What if I went in the morning?" Mac suggested. "You could do that if you want, I suppose. You'd need to take what you need home with you tonight, though."
Sunday, 19 September 2004 Mac pulled the truck into the driveway. She was glad Charlie suggested that she leave her car at the nursery last night and drive one of the trucks home. There was no way she would have gotten all the equipment she needed in her little car. She pulled her leather work gloves on and began unloading the truck. Once she finished spreading the fungicide, she went back over the entire yard and poured crystals on all the fire ant hills. Waiting for the fungicide to dry, she mixed some RoundUp and sprayed the weeds in all the natural areas. By the time she finished that, the yard was dry, so she mixed a different weed killer and sprayed the lawn for weeds. Next she tackled the low shrubbery, trimming and pruning as needed. The more she did, the more she found to do. She moved on to the larger shrubs, but she wasn't able to finish before she had to head back to the nursery to pick up her crew and assignments. She was going to need some help pruning the trees, too. She'd have a talk with Charlie and get that set up.
Friday, 22 October 2004 Mac shook her head in frustration. How four perfectly sane women could support that dorky little man they all called "husband" was beyond her comprehension. She knew if she were in their position, she'd have wanted the court to toss him into prison and throw away the key! Imagine the nerve of that man, marrying again and again and again: four wives at the same time! Mac slammed her fist down onto her desk. "Ouch!" she cried out as she cradled her hurt hand in her other palm. "It really doesn't pay to fight with furniture, Mac," Harm teased from the doorway. "The furniture is bound to win." Mac looked up and glared. "Well, look who's here. And by yourself? Where's your fan club, Commander?" Harm looked puzzled. "My fan club?" He looked behind him and then back at Mac. "What fan club? What are you talking about?" They walked out of her office and toward the restrooms. "You've had a shadow for over a week, Harm." "A shadow?" Harm's hand instinctively flew to his face and he rubbed his cheeks and chin. "Mac, I shave every day. What are you talking about?" Mac couldn't help it; Harm looked so totally confused... she laughed. Only now he looked hurt. "I meant your lady professor, Harm," Mac finally explained. "Alicia?" Mac nodded. "Mac, she was the one responsible for our reopening the Wainright case..." He stopped his explanation. "Wait a minute. Why am I explaining this to you? You know who she is, and you know why she was here." Harm looked a little more carefully at Mac's eyes. "Are you jealous, Mac?" Mac's eyes sparked. "Jealous! Me? Absolutely not! I never heard of anything so completely ridiculous!" Then she thought of that horrid little polygamist and his insinuations about her. "Well, actually, I have. Do you know what that..." "The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Harm winked as he interrupted her. Hearing the Shakespearean quotation made Mac think of the Admiral and a sad smile appeared on her face. Then suddenly, "Oh, my God! I forgot!!" she exclaimed. She ran back to her office and grabbed the phone, dialing. "Charlie, it's Mac. Hey, I thought I would add some pansies to the front beds tomorrow and line the front walk with solar path lights. Do we have lights in stock or should I stop somewhere tonight and pick them up? I want the place looking perfect when we finish tomorrow; you never know, the owner might return early, and it's almost November, anyway..."
Thursday, 28 October 2004 AJ wasn't sure what to expect when he returned home this time. He knew that his neighbor swore by the garden center they both now used, but AJ's only experience with one hadn't been good. Of course, he had to admit, he hadn't done any investigating into the service he originally hired. He'd simply looked in the Yellow Pages and the first ad he saw was the company he called... unfortunately. As the cab turned off the highway and began threading through the back roads to his home, he braced himself for a let-down. The yard had looked so bad when he hired this new garden center, he wasn't at all sure they'd be able to do much of anything before the spring. So when he climbed out of the vehicle and looked at his yard, he couldn't quite believe his eyes. Sure, the grass was still sparse, but what there was of it was lush and green. The weeds were gone and he didn't see any evidence of ants or bugs. As he walked up the driveway toward the house, he was surprised to see fresh mulch around all of the trees and in all of the natural areas. Even more surprising was how well shaped the shrubbery was. And all the dead wood was gone from the trees! He'd been meaning to take care of all that before he left for the ball season, but he'd run out of time. He reached the walkway and raised an eyebrow at the funny-looking chrome things on spikes. "Lanterns?" he wondered. He bent over to take a closer look and realized they were solar path lights... and they weren't chrome, they were stainless steel. "Well, I'll be..." He turned his attention back to the front beds on both sides of the front steps. "I haven't had flowers by the front door in ages," he realized. AJ went inside and immediately picked up the phone, calling the garden center. "AJ Chegwidden here. I'd like to speak to the manager, please." When Charlie finally picked up, he was surprised to hear his client's voice. "We didn't expect you back for another week, Admiral." AJ chuckled. "Boston finally pulled it off and won the Series. In only four games, too. Surprised the whole world, I think." "You're not kiddin'," Charlie agreed. "So, what do you think of your yard?" "That's why I'm calling, actually. I just got home, and I was never more surprised than to see this yard looking so fine. Sure, the grass needs a while to come back, but the yard and shrubs... even the trees! Everything else is immaculate. I can't thank you enough, Charlie. I'm impressed with Craig's work. Very impressed." Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't taken the time to go over and check on the residence; he'd seen Mac's work at other homes, and he knew he could depend on her. But he still had planned to double check everything. "I'm glad everything is to your satisfaction, Admiral. I had my best crew working your place. But I'm afraid Craig wasn't the one leading them. He had an accident just after you left, so I put someone else on your yard. I know we didn't discuss adding anything, but Mac was insistent that the front area needed some color and lighting. I hope it was..." "He was right," AJ agreed. "Tell him I appreciate all his work." Before Charlie could correct AJ's use of the male pronoun, the doorbell rang. "I have to run; someone's at the door. I just wanted to call and let you know I'm home and how pleased I am with your work. Keep it up!"
Saturday, 30 October 2004 AJ looked out the window when he heard the powerful motor. He saw that the crew already had all their equipment unloaded and two of the men were already busy at work. AJ set his coffee mug on the table and walked outside. "Good morning!" he called. The men looked up, surprised. No one had ever come out of this house before when they were working here. AJ decided that Mac had failed to tell his crew that he was home now. But then he saw someone who looked like he was in charge. "You must be Mac!" he called out. Charlie turned around, a bit surprised. "Good morning, Admiral. No, actually, I'm Charlie." "Charlie?" AJ questioned. "I didn't expect to see you here." He nodded toward the other men. "Which one is Mac?" Charlie replied, "Mac was called out of town on business... somewhere up in Canada, I think. Hasn't returned yet. So I'm taking the crew around this weekend." "I see. I was rather hoping to meet the miracle worker," AJ joked. "I imagine Mac'll be here next weekend to winterize everything." But she wasn't. She and Harm barely got home before they were shipped over to Baghdad. And once she was home again, AJ was the one gone... spending the holidays with his daughter in Italy.
Saturday, 27 November 2004 "Good morning!" Mac chirped as she walked into Charlie's office. Charlie set his mug of coffee on his desk and scowled at her. "Are you always so bright and chipper at the crack of dawn? And what are you doing here today, anyway? It's Thanksgiving weekend." Mac almost giggled. "You'd think after all these months, you'd know that I'm a morning person." "Nothing registers in my brain until after my fourth cup of coffee," Charlie grumbled. Mac pointed at the mug on the desk. "And that is number...?" "Five." Mac did laugh at that. "And you're still a grump?" "Hey. Watch it." "So, what's on the agenda for today, boss?" she asked. "Not much, actually. The crews all have the holiday weekend off. So why are you here?" "There's nothing to do?" her face lost a little of its brightness. "You could help with the Santa pictures, if you want," Charlie suggested. "Hey, that sounds like fun!" Charlie grinned; he knew he'd get her with that. "Your Santa's helper costume is hanging on the back of my door." Mac turned around and shut the door. She saw the costume and took it off the hanger, holding it up against her. The costume was a red velvet sheath with spaghetti straps, a deep scoop neck, and a short-short skirt. The neck and hem were bordered with feathery white marabou trim. "Charlie, this is indecent!" Mac exclaimed. He chuckled, "Naah, it's not really. It's just short." "Skimpy." "That, too." "Charlie!" He laughed then. "The only year I had someone who could fit in that outfit, we made as much money on the pictures than we did on the tree sales. Try it on, Mac." Mac looked dubious. "Why would this costume help you make more money on pictures with Santa?" "Because after the kiddies got their pictures taken with Santa, the daddies got their pictures taken with Santa's helper," Charlie replied, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. Mac almost blushed. She opened the door and said, "This is a side of you I never expected, Charlie." Before he had time to reply, she walked out, costume in hand. Not five minutes later, she returned. Charlie didn't hear her walk in, so she spoke. "Well?" He looked up and his jaw fell open. "Oh, my God." Mac tilted her head in question, "What's wrong?" She looked down at the front of the costume. Was there a hole she hadn't seen? No. She twisted around to check the back and sides. Nothing appeared to be wrong. "Last time, it was just a little 18-year old girl wearing that get-up. She didn't exactly... umm... well, uh..." "She didn't exactly, what, Charlie?" Mac prodded. "Fill it out like you do," he gulped. They were going to do it again this year... make as much money with photos as trees. He was sure of it. Mac grinned at his discomfiture. But hey, he asked for it! She looked down at her feet and held up her right leg. "My work boots don't exactly go with this outfit." "The other stuff is in the paper bag there by the credenza," Charlie nodded toward the short, wide cabinet against the far wall. Mac picked up the bag and peeked inside. "A Santa's hat!" she squealed in delight. "I've always wanted to wear a Santa's hat!" She quickly put it on her head. "How's that?" she turned and modeled for her weekend boss. "It 'makes' the costume, Mac," he grinned wolfishly. She was already digging in the bag for other goodies. She found a pair of red fishnet stockings and red slippers with white trim; there was even a pair of red and white dangle pierced earrings that looked like candy canes. She quickly put the earrings through the holes in her ears and sat down to remove her boots. Then she slid her feet into the slippers. "They fit!" she said in a surprised voice. "Of course they do," Charlie teased, "They fit any Santa's helper who can wear that suit. Santa told me so when I bought it!" She laughed at him as she returned to the restroom to don the stockings.
Saturday, 27 November 2004 Mac was exhausted. She'd been positioned in every imaginable pose... well, every pose that was decent. Quite a few of the men had requested positions that were totally inappropriate with children watching. Those men seemed to be the ones who didn't have anyone waiting for them, though. So at least their own kids hadn't seen them act so rudely. At some points during the day, the line had been over an hour's wait... for pictures with Santa's helper. The line for pictures with Santa was never more than a 15-minute wait. And the number of prints was extraordinary... 4"x6" prints of Santa and the kids, as usual, but the men all wanted 5"x7" and 8"x10" prints of Santa's helper with Daddy. And most of the men bought multiple pictures. Charlie even had to send someone to the Staples Office Superstore to buy more photographic paper and ink cartridges for the color printer! He couldn't wait to do the math tonight and find out just how much Mac had brought in that day. A lot. He knew that much. At 2:30, Mac had insisted she needed a break, so now that she was back, there was no one in her line. She breathed a sigh a relief at that, but it was short lived. Her line grew instantly when word got out that Santa's helper had already returned. As "Jingle Bell Rock" started blaring through the speakers, she was sitting in a particularly stodgy man's lap. His lips were pressed against her cheek waiting for the camera flash when Mac heard a familiar voice. "Don't I pay you enough, Colonel?" the gruff voice barked. Mac jumped up and turned to her new commanding officer... who was standing nose to nose with her now. "General Creswell! Sir!" she snapped to attention, saluting, even though neither of them were in uniform. 'Oh this is bad. This is very, very bad,' she said to herself. "Now that's a picture!" someone shouted. Mac sincerely hoped that it wasn't a picture... that no one had snapped it. But she knew that was too much to hope for. And she was right. The picture even made the evening news on television.
Monday, 29 November 2004 Mac came to attention stance in front of the General's desk. She knew why he'd summoned her first thing this morning: he was going to rake her over the coals but good for what she'd done on Saturday. She just hoped he didn't charge her with conduct unbecoming an officer. Once she thought about it on Saturday night, she realized it could well be construed that way. If she'd just been helping Santa, that might have been one thing. But having her picture made with men, that was something else entirely. Creswell didn't stand up, nor did he release Mac from attention. His face was stern, and his voice almost dripped with sarcasm. "I knew you were working at the nursery, Colonel. Commander Turner included that in your personnel file when you cleared it with him before I arrived. But what he indicated is that you were selling plants and doing yard work at residences. Nothing was mentioned about posing in a skimpy red dress for photographs with men you've never met." Mac didn't budge. She knew he wasn't finished. Her mind raced through the UCMJ articles, identifying each one with which he might charge her. Oddly enough, he stopped speaking. He picked up a folder and opened it, apparently reading its contents. "At ease," he said in passing. Then, without looking up at her, he asked, "Just how often do you work at the nursery, Colonel?" "Every weekend that I'm home, Sir," Mac replied. "And how much extra money does that bring in?" He looked up from the report. "I assume you are working there because you need the extra income?" "No, Sir. I'm working there to help relieve some of the stress in my life." She almost giggled at that. This past weekend certainly didn't relieve any stress! "I'm paid a salary, yes, but I have the nursery send it directly to charity. I don't care about the money; I just enjoy the work, General. If money were important to me, I'd be in a private firm, not in the Marine Corp." Creswell nodded. "So then how did you end up posing for pictures this weekend instead of working with plants?" He flipped a couple of pages in the report and made a note on one of the pages in pen. Mac explained what happened and assured the General that she had no intention whatsoever of donning that outfit again. Ever! She wished he'd put down that stupid report and get on with it! He was making her sweat now, and he knew it. With what was he going to charge her? Finally he set the report down, stood up, and picked up a picture frame. He turned it to show her, and her eyes grew wide in surprise; it was the picture of her in her skimpy Santa's helper outfit standing at attention in front of him... the very one that had been shown on TV. She kept her mouth closed. She wasn't going to say another word until he asked her a question. But she wasn't prepared for the question he asked. "Colonel, would you mind if I put this picture on my desk for a while?" 'He's baiting me. I know it.' When Mac didn't answer him... hardly even blinked... he continued, "I had several phone calls Saturday night and Sunday after the picture was shown on TV." 'So did I,' Mac remembered. Harm called, Harriett called, Sturgis called, Jen called. She was just glad that the Admiral hadn't called! Maybe he didn't see it; he was still in Italy with Francesca, after all. "SecNav, CMC..." he listed. She still didn't respond. "Even a couple of the senators who were on the approval committee for my appointment." Still nothing. "Don't you want to know what they said, Colonel?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. 'The Admiral used to do that thing with his eyebrow,' Mac thought ruefully. When she still didn't speak, the new JAG casually sat down behind his desk and put the picture frame down. He looked up at Mac and lifted one corner of his mouth in a grin. Then lowering his eyes so as not to give it away too soon, he continued, "They all thought it was quite a testament to my command persona that you would instantly snap to attention seeing me in a public setting... and especially with your being dressed as Santa's... um... helper." Mac blinked a couple of times and cleared her throat, but no words would come. "Colonel? Are you okay?" Creswell asked, looking up at her with a wide smile. Mac took a deep breath, "Yes, Sir. I'm fine." "So, do you mind if I keep the picture out for a while?" he asked again. "Just through Christmas," he elaborated. "It's fine with me, Sir. But, why would you want it on your desk?" "Actually, I don't." He stood up and walked around to the front of his desk. He motioned with his hands as he continued, "What I really want is to blow it up life size and hang it in the bullpen. I think it would be great for morale, don't you?." It was hard for him not to laugh at Mac's look of utter and complete shock. "That okay?" Mac couldn't help it. She burst into laughter. "Don't you dare!" Then as an afterthought, she added, "Sir!" Creswell laughed as he dismissed her. Mac could have sworn she heard him whistling "Jingle Bell Rock" as she closed his office door.
Monday, 20 December 2004 The officers filed out of the conference room, the weekly meeting concluded. "So, Mac, been playing Santa's helper any more lately?" teased Harm. Mac glared at him sideways. "Not a chance." "Shame. I'd have loved to see you in that outfit. From the pictures I've seen, you were quite an eyeful," he teased. "Oh, she was, Commander. She was indeed," General Creswell said, walking up beside them. "By the way, Colonel, have you seen the holiday issue of the Navy Times?" "The Navy Times, Sir?" Mac repeated. "No, I haven't; I didn't realize there was a holiday issue this year," she replied, shaking her head. "No, I thought not," he said cryptically, a slight grin on his face. Mac and Harm watched him walk away. They looked at each other, puzzled. But when Mac heard him start whistling "Jingle Bell Rock", she knew. "Oh, no!" She went straight to her office and checked her in-basket. Sure enough, there was her copy of the Navy Times. And there was the picture... right smack on the front cover! "How on earth did they get hold of this?" she exclaimed. Harm took the copy from her and read the heading aloud. " 'New JAG holds court over Ms. Claus.' Ms. Claus?" Harm laughed. He opened the paper and found more pictures of Mac. "Mac, this is great!" She shook her head. "No, Harm. It isn't great. It's bad. It's very bad." "Mac, if it were that bad, Creswell wouldn't have allowed it to be printed; you know that." She sighed, "No, Harm, I don't know that. He and I have a history, remember? And not a good history." "I thought you said you two had discussed that and he wasn't holding it over you." "I didn't think he was," Mac confessed, grabbing the paper from Harm's grasp. "I should have known better." She flipped through the pages and groaned audibly as she saw some of the pictures.. "Mac, if Creswell is anything, he's forthright. If he's holding something against you, he isn't going to be quiet about it. You'll know it; it'll be obvious. I really don't think he's got it in for you..." "Then why did he allow this?" Mac threw the copy on her desk. Both of them were surprised to hear the General's voice from the doorway. "Because I thought it would lighten things up around here a bit." Mac and Harm came to attention stance, but Creswell quickly released them. "Colonel, I'm sorry you didn't take this in the vein it was intended. I thought you'd find it comical, as I did when the editor called me and wanted to use the picture." "Comical, Sir?" Mac repeated. "You're doing it again, Mac," Harm whispered. "Doing what?" she glared at him. "Repeating my questions," Creswell answered for Harm. Mac blushed. "Oh." "I thought it was a cute human interest story the way they wrote it, so I put the editor in touch with the nursery owner so they could get more pictures for the paper. Read the article, Colonel. I think you'll find that it's not at all distasteful. And it certainly isn't something that will hurt your career. Let me know if you think otherwise." "It's a little late to do anything about it if I disagree, General," Mac dared. Creswell surprised her by saying, "No, it's not, Mac. I would never allow anything to be printed about one of my people without their prior approval." "But, Sir," Harm questioned, "this is a final copy. It's not a proof." Creswell shook his head. "You're right, Commander; it's not a proof." He turned to Mac, "I was that sure you'd find it as funny as I did, I gave them the go-ahead to print over the weekend so it would be ready for distribution as soon as I knew you were okay with it today. But if you're not, all the copies will be scrapped. Read it, Colonel. Let me know within the hour." The General returned to his office, as did Harm, which left Mac alone with the Navy Times. She picked it up and began reading:
"Donner N. Blitzen?" Mac giggled at the name. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. She read the first several paragraphs. There wasn't really much said about her personally, just that some service men and women enjoyed part-time employment outside the military... and that some, like this hot Marine, didn't do it for the money. She read the quote and remembered saying the words to the General only last month:
Mac read the rest of the article and chuckled through much of it as she connected each picture to the text. But when she got to the end and found a rewrite of Eartha Kitt's famous "Santa Baby" paired up with her sexiest pose yet, she couldn't control her laughter.
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