Fortune Cookies - Part 1

Monday, 8 April 2002
0950 EDT
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Admiral AJ Chegwidden concluded the weekly staff meeting by asking for a volunteer to help with the annual Charitable Contributions Campaign.  "As you know, in past years we've had our own campaign here at JAG.  This year, the SecNav requested that we be part of the Pentagon's campaign.  Whomever accepts this assignment will be working directly with Nelson's office.  Commander Lindsey, to be precise," he added, frowning.  "Any volunteers?"

It didn't surprise him that no one immediately expressed interest.  He would have been surprised if someone had, in fact.  

"Sir, what exactly is involved in this position?" asked Lieutenant Lauren Singer cautiously.

"Groveling," Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie muttered under her breath.

"You can say that again," whispered Commander Harmon Rabb.

The Admiral answered Singer's question.  "Actually, that's up to the person who volunteers and Commander Lindsey.  They will be overseeing the campaign for the Pentagon and for JAG.  Deciding on campaign strategy, advertising... everything."

"And Commander Lindsey is already assigned, Sir?" Singer asked.

The Admiral nodded.  "Afraid so."  He looked around the table.  "Any volunteers?"

Lieutenant Harriett Sims finally said quietly, "I'll do it, Admiral."

The others around the table released an audible sigh of relief.

"Lieutenant, you don't have to..." the Admiral began.

"Actually, Sir, it will give me something to do during the day that's outside of this office... help me keep my mind off of Bud for a while."

The Admiral nodded. "Very well, Lieutenant.  The job is yours."  He looked around the table.  "That's it.  Let's get to work, people."  As the officers left the conference room, the Admiral stopped Harriett.  

"Sir?" she asked.

"Harriett, I know you miss Bud; that's natural.  But don't let..."

"I'm doing fine, Sir, really," she interrupted.  "It's just that sometimes I hear the Commander and the Colonel talking, and I think 'the next voice will be Bud's'... and of course, it isn't.  I just really miss him, Sir."

"I know you do, Harriett. I wish there was another way to advance his career without..."

Harriett interrupted again, most unusual for her. "But there isn't, Sir. We knew that. And I'm the one who kept pushing him to take the assignment. So I should be the one who's the most okay with the whole thing, right?" Harriett's eyes began to well with tears.

"No, Harriett. You're the one who got left at home." He saw a tear streak down her cheek, as he continued, "But let me assure you, Harriett, he misses you just as much... probably more." Harriett smiled her thanks at the Admiral. "You going to be okay?" She nodded. "Well if you need anything, all you have to do is ask. I hope you know that, Harriett."

'I need Bud, home with me, safe and sound: that's what I need,' she thought to herself, but replied, "Thank you, Admiral."

As Harriett left the conference room, the Admiral turned and gazed out the window, not realizing that anyone had entered as Harriett left. "Bud Roberts, you are one lucky man," he said quietly. "What I wouldn't give to have a woman like Harriett love me that much. That's one amazing couple."

Mac realized now that the Admiral wasn't aware of her presence. 'I should let him know I'm standing here,' she knew, but she didn't want to startle him. Just as she was going to speak, she heard the Admiral sniff and reach in his pocket for his handkerchief. 'Is he crying?' she wondered. 'Oh my God!'

The Admiral used his handkerchief to wipe away the tears that had formed in his eyes. It wouldn't do to let them fall. He was the Admiral, after all. Strong. Brave. "Lonely," he added to the list. "Damn, it's been years since I had a pity party. What the hell brought this on?" he wondered aloud. But he knew: it was a who, not a what. "Harriett. God, why couldn't Marcella have loved me like that?" He placed his hand on the window glass, spreading his fingers apart. "Why, Marcella? Why did you leave?"

"Because she was a foolish woman, Sir," Mac voiced her thoughts. The Admiral whirled around to face the intruder, anger evident on his face. Before he said anything, though, Mac continued. "Any woman would be lucky to have your love. But to throw it away? To leave you?" Mac swallowed hard, her own eyes welling with tears now. "She has to be the most foolish woman in the world."

His expression of anger dissipated quickly at hearing Mac's words. But he didn't speak right away, and Mac turned to leave the room. "And Mic must be the most foolish man," he returned. Mac gasped lightly at his words and turned back to face him. "Any man would be lucky to have your love, Mac. How Mic could have been so foolish as to walk away from you..." he shook his head.

This time it was Mac who sniffed. The Admiral handed her his handkerchief. "It's a little damp, but just from my eyes," he offered.  

As Mac took the cloth from him, their fingers touched, sending almost an electric charge through both of them. "Thank you, Admiral," she whispered. Mac dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose. As she wadded up the handkerchief, she noticed his initials embroidered in the corner.  "I'll wash this before I return it to you, Sir."

The Admiral nodded, sighed, and moved to pick up his notebook from the table. "Was there something you needed to discuss, Colonel?" he asked, getting back to business.

Mac nodded. "Yes, Sir. I was hoping to take a quick weekend trip over Memorial Day to see Chloe. Before I planned anything or even submitted my formal request, I wanted to be sure of your plans, Sir."

"My plans?"

"I thought you might be taking a trip of your own, Sir. And needing me to..."

"Mac, there are plenty of people in this office capable of holding down the fort for a few days if we both happen to be on leave at the same time. Make your plans."

Mac smiled. "Thank you, Admiral." She followed him out of the conference room and watched him walk back to his office. 'Sure wish we could really be on leave together... not just at the same time, but at the same place, with each other.'

The Admiral closed his office door. "Get your mind back on track, Chegwidden. You can't have Sarah MacKenzie, and you know it."

Monday, 20 May 2002
0925 EDT
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

"Lieutenant Sims.  Progress report on the Charitable Contributions Campaign?" asked the Admiral.

Harriett smiled.  "Actually, Sir, we're just about set.  We have the posters and handouts designed.  Commander Lindsey is getting all of those printed up at the Pentagon.  And I'm getting fortune cookies made up with special slogans.  You know, things like 'Make 2002 a brighter year.  Contribute today.'  I place the order for the cookies next week.  The cookie company didn't want the order until we are actually ready for the cookies.  The campaign kicks off on Monday, June 17, so ordering the cookies next week gives them the 2-1/2 weeks they require."

"Who came up with the idea of fortune cookies?" asked Lieutenant Singer.  "Seems rather hooky to me."

Harriett replied, "Actually, Lieutenant, it was the SecNav's idea.  He likes fortune cookies."

The Admiral shook his head.  "Let me guess.  The cookies are the most expensive part of this whole campaign, right?"  Harriett nodded.  "And they're coming out of the JAG pot, aren't they," he said, already knowing the answer.

"I'm afraid so, Sir," replied Harriett.

"And they're Nelson's idea," he shook his head in disgust.  "Better be good cookies."

Harriett smiled.  "They are, Sir.  I found a very reputable company who bakes their own cookies, in lots of flavors, and they print and stuff the cookies themselves.  They do cost a little more, but they're definitely worth the extra pennies."

The Admiral nodded.  "Okay.  Just try to keep the cost within budget."

"Oh, they are, Sir," Harriett assured him.  "Just within budget."

"Flavors, Harriett?  What kind of flavors?" asked Mac.

"Well, we decided to go with red, white, and blue colors... so the flavors we're getting are strawberry, blueberry, and coconut."

"Mmmm, sounds good," Mac said.

Harm quipped, "Anything that's food sounds good to you, Mac."

Harriett spoke again.  "The cookies will be handed out at lunch on the 17th in the cafeterias, both here and at the Pentagon."

"Handed out, Lieutenant?  Don't you mean available?" the Admiral intoned, hoping she wasn't going to say what he knew she was going to say.

"No, Sir.  Handed out."

He nodded.  "And just who is going to be handing them out?" he asked.

Harriett looked down at her hands and then back up at the Admiral.  "The senior officers, Sir."

The Admiral sighed, "Damn."

Harriett continued, "At the Pentagon, it will be Admirals Clark and Fallon representing the Navy, of course.  And General Pace and General Jones will represent the Marines, General Jumper and General Foglesong for the Air Force, and Generals Shinseki and Keane for the Army."

"And you've already gotten their agreement?" the Admiral asked.

"The SecNav told the Admirals and Generals Jones and Pace.  And he talked with the other Secretaries.  They informed the other Generals, Sir."

The Admiral prompted,  "Fine.  And at JAG?"

"That would be you and Colonel MacKenzie, Sir," Harriett said sweetly.

The Admiral looked at Mac almost apologetically.  "We'll do fine, Sir," she assured him.  "It's not a problem."

Wednesday, 29 May 2002
1045 EDT
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Commander Lindsey walked into the JAG Ops bullpen and looked around.  He didn't see anyone he knew, so he made his way to the Admiral's outer office.  "Petty Officer, I'd like to speak to Admiral Chegwidden," he said flatly.

Petty Officer Tiner looked up.  "Good morning, Commander.  I'm sorry, but the Admiral is on a conference call..." Tiner hesitated as he thought he heard the Admiral's voice.  "Sounds like they're just about finished, Commander.  If you'd like to take a seat, I'll let him know you're here, Sir."  Tiner watched the phone and as soon as the light went out, he buzzed the Admiral on the intercom.  

"What, Tiner?" the Admiral answered.

"Sir, Commander Lindsey is here to see you."

"What the hell does he want?"

"I'm sorry, Sir.  I don't know," Tiner replied.

"Okay, send him in."

"Commander Lindsey?  The Admiral will see you now," Tiner announced.

Lindsey opened the Admiral's door and walked in, not bothering to close the door behind him.  "Admiral Chegwidden."

"Commander.  Have a seat.  What's on your mind?"

"Actually, Admiral, I'd like to know what's happened to Lieutenant Sims.  She seemed to be very happy working on the Charitable Contributions Campaign.  But for the last week, I haven't been able to reach her.  She hasn't returned any of my phone calls, no e-mails, no nothing.  She was supposed to..."

The Admiral stood up and walked to the front of his desk.  "My fault, Commander.  I assumed that you'd have heard.  Obviously that was an incorrect assumption."

"Heard, Sir?  Heard what?"

"Lieutenant Sims' husband, Lieutenant Bud Roberts, was seriously injured in country last week.  He lost a leg, and he's still not out of the woods.  I put Harriett on an extended leave until we know more and Bud is stable."

"Oh my God.  I had no idea," Lindsey said.  "Admiral, I never would have... oh my... that is just terrible."

"Yes, it is," the Admiral agreed.  "Now, if you need someone else from this office to continue the campaign with you, I'll assign someone."

Lindsey nodded.  "Actually, that would be very helpful, Admiral.  It's just such a shame about Lieutenant Sims and her husband."

The Admiral called out the door, "Tiner!  Send Lieutenant Singer in here!"

"Aye, aye, Sir!" Tiner replied.  

A minute later, Singer appeared in the doorway.  "Come in, Lieutenant," said the Admiral.  "I believe you know Commander Lindsey?"

"Yes, Sir.  Nice to see you again, Commander."

Lindsey nodded.  "Likewise.  Lauren isn't it?"

She grinned.  "That's right, Sir."  'Good, he does remember me.'

"Lieutenant, in Lieutenant Sims' absence, I'm assigning you to work with Commander Lindsey on the Charitable Contributions Campaign.  I believe Lieutenant Sims has a folder in her desk.  Tiner can get it for you."  He turned to Lindsey.  "Anything else, Commander?"

"No, Sir."

"Good.  Dismissed," he said to both officers.

Wednesday, 29 May 2002
1835 EDT
The Olive Garden Restaurant
Vienna, Virginia

"This was such a good idea, Lauren," said Commander Lindsey.  "I'm glad you suggested that we meet and talk during dinner."

"Well, it is important that we get this campaign rolling, isn't it, Sir?" Singer replied, wishing she had specified the restaurant and not leaving it up to Lindsey.

"Please, Lauren.  Call me Ted."

Singer nodded, "Very well.  Ted."  Then she grinned and said, "But I thought it was Teddy."

Lindsey flushed.  "Actually, that's what my mother calls me.  And Admiral Brovo used to."

"He was the JAG before Chegwidden," Singer mused aloud.  

Lindsey agreed, "Yes, he was."  He looked into Singer's eyes and smiled.  "You can call me Teddy if you want."

Singer smiled.  "Thank you.  I'd like that," she purred.  "Now, what did Harriett leave unfinished when she decided to take vacation?"

"Oh, but Lauren... she's not on vacation; her husband was almost killed," Lindsey explained.  'Surely the people at JAG know what happened,' he thought.

"Just an expression, Teddy.  Of course she needs to be with her husband," she backtracked.  'Mustn't give him the idea that I'm callous, now must I?'  Singer knew how highly the SecNav thought of Commander Lindsey.  Granted, Nelson seemed to be the only one who did think highly of Lindsey, but it's always a good thing to be on the SecNav's good side.  "But that left you with no one to help with the campaign.  That's all I meant.  And I'm so glad that the Admiral agreed to let me help you."  Singer reached her leg out and ran her foot up Lindsey's pant leg.  "So very glad." 

Lindsey jumped when he felt Singer's foot under his pants.  "So am I, Lauren.  So am I," he reached out and captured Singer's hand.  He squeezed it lightly and then released it.

Singer flirted mercilessly with Lindsey throughout dinner and just knew she was going to get laid.  Then she'd really have something to work with.  But as Lindsey pulled up in front of Singer's apartment, he said, "I'm really glad you're working with me on this campaign, Lauren.  We're going to make a fine team.  I'll call you tomorrow.  Good night."

Singer sat there and stared at him for a second.  "Wouldn't you like to come inside?" she asked in her most sexy voice, running her hand along his thigh.

Lindsey jerked as she touched him.  "Oh!  Uhhh... No, I... uh...  Lauren, I don't think that's a good idea.  Not while we're working together, you know?" he stuttered.

"Oh, but Teddy.  I so want you to.  Please?" she begged.

He shook his head.  "It's... it's not a... a good idea," he stammered.

Singer pouted.  "Won't you even see me to my door, Teddy?"

Lindsey opened his car door, "Oh!  Of course.  I'm sorry, Lauren."

Singer grinned inwardly.  'Got him!'

Monday, 10 June 2002
0955 EDT
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

"Lieutenant Singer.  Progress report on the Charitable Contributions Campaign?" asked the Admiral.

Singer grinned.  "Everything is set and ready to roll out next Monday, Sir.  And, I might add, considerably under budget," she said smugly.

"Under?  I thought Lieutenant Sims said the fortune cookies are bringing us in right at the budget," he intoned.

Singer replied, "That was using the vendor she chose, Sir.  I chose a different vendor.  Much cheaper.  And no one eats those awful little cookies anyway, so why pay top dollar for them?  Commander Lindsey agreed with me 100 percent, Sir."  'Of course he did; I didn't give him much choice, now did I?' she thought evilly, remembering how she refused to finish him the other night until he agreed.

"I believe Harriett mentioned flavors and colors, Lieutenant.  Red, white, and blue.  Strawberry, coconut, and blueberry, if memory serves me correctly," the Admiral said.

Mac piped up.  "That's correct, Admiral.  Harriett was very impressed with the quality of their cookies and the taste.  And the fact that they printed and stuffed the cookies right there."

"Where else would they stuff them?" asked Harm.

Mac shrugged.  "I don't know.  But Harriett was really emphatic about that point."

"Well, I'm sure there won't be a problem with these cookies," Singer said haughtily.  "They are the regular flavor, and they have the slogans we want included.  And the cost was almost half what Harriett's company was going to charge.  The cookies will arrive tomorrow."

When the meeting was over and the officers were leaving the conference room, Mac spoke up, "All this talk of fortune cookies is making me hungry for Chinese food.  Any takers for lunch today?"

"Chinese food sounds like an excellent idea, Colonel.  Count me in," replied Commander Sturgis Turner.

"I'm in, Mac," agreed Harm.

"Admiral, what about you?  You haven't gone out for lunch in weeks, Sir.  Come join us, won't you?" Mac asked, surprising everyone.

The Admiral replied as he headed for his office, "Can't, Colonel.  Have a briefing at 1300 that I have to prepare for.  Thanks for the invite, though."

"Excuse me, Admiral," Tiner interrupted.  "The SecNav moved the briefing to Thursday, Sir.  You don't have anything on the calendar now for this afternoon."

"Nothing?  That's a first," he mumbled.

"Admiral?" Mac said hopefully.

He turned around and faced her.  "Okay, Mac.  I'll join you all for lunch.  And you're right.  Chinese does sound good."

"Wonderful!  We'll plan to leave around 1130, Sir."

Monday, 10 June 2002
1235 EDT
Hunan Gate Restaurant
Falls Church, Virginia

The waiter brought the checks to the table and laid each one down with a fortune cookie on top of it.  Harm and Sturgis picked up their cookies and immediately opened them, laughing at their fortunes.

"Listen to this one!" joked Sturgis.  "It is better to have a hen tomorrow than an egg today."

"Get this!  Handsome is as handsome does."  Harm laughed as he read it.

"Well, you won't have to worry about that one, Harm," quipped Mac.

"Although, Sturgis, I'd watch out for yours," joked the Admiral.  "Don't run over any chickens on your way home!"

"And don't have eggs for breakfast," teased Harm.

"What about yours?" Sturgis asked Mac and the Admiral.

Mac handed the Admiral his cookie, and they opened theirs together.  The Admiral nodded to Mac to read hers first.  "This is rather odd.  You will go on a long journey, in a strange bed take rest, and a dark girl will kiss you."  She giggled.  "God, I hope not!"  The men laughed with her.  "What about yours, Admiral?"

"It is time."  

"Yes, it is time, Sir.  Time to read your fortune.  What does it say?" returned Harm.

"That's what it says," replied the Admiral.  "It is time."

"How odd," said Mac.  She picked up her bill and realized that it wasn't hers at all.  It was the Admiral's.  "Sir, I believe I have your check.  That one must be mine," she pointed at the one he had picked up.

The Admiral looked at it and nodded.  "That it is, Colonel."

"You know," said Sturgis, "If you believe in these things... that means that the fortunes were turned around.  You got his, Mac.  And Admiral, you got hers.  So actually..."

"I get kissed by a dark girl, hmm?" joked the Admiral, causing laughter around the table.

"But not until you've gone on a long journey, Sir," Mac quipped.

"And slept in a strange bed!" Harm added.  "And it's time for Mac to do something."

Mac immediately sobered.  She chanced a glance at the Admiral; he was still grinning about getting kissed.  'The only thing I've wondered about lately is if it's time for me to move on.  Out of JAG... out from under his command.  And the fortune said it's time.'  Mac shook herself out of the somber mood.  'Don't be ridiculous.  Fortune cookies are silly.'

"Mac?  You okay?" asked the Admiral.  Mac looked up and saw that Harm and Sturgis had already gotten up from the table and were walking to the cashier.  "You kind of left us there for a minute."

Mac looked up into his dark eyes.  "I'm fine, Sir," she whispered.

"You're sure?  You look a little flushed," his voice was laced with concern.

"Just thinking, Sir.  I'm fine, really."

Monday, 17 June 2002
1130 EDT
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

"Well, Mac, you ready to hand out fortune cookies?" the Admiral asked as they walked into the cafeteria together.  

"All set, Sir."  Mac picked up a large plastic pail filled with plastic-wrapped cookies and handed it to the Admiral, then she claimed the other pail for herself.  "Lieutenant Singer said she'd come down and refill the pails every 30 minutes or so."

"Okay.  Let's do it," he quipped.  They stood at the end of the cashiers' lanes and as each person came through the line, either Mac or the Admiral handed them a cookie.  

They'd been handing out cookies for about 20 minutes when Petty Officer Tiner came running into the cafeteria.  "Admiral, Ma'am!  You have to stop handing out the cookies!"

"What?"  "Why?" they chorused.

"The slogans aren't what they're supposed to be, Sir," Tiner said quickly.  

"What do you mean?" asked Mac.

"Explain," demanded the Admiral.

"Sir, I just had a call from the SecNav's office.  It seems that a lot of the cookies have obscene sayings in them, Sir."

"Obscene!?!" the Admiral bellowed, bringing him the attention of most everyone in the cafeteria.  "What do you mean 'obscene'?  How obscene?" 

Tiner blushed.  As he was going to answer, a young Ensign walked up to the Admiral.  "Probably like this one, Admiral."  She handed him the fortune that had come from the cookie he'd handed her only 10 minutes before.  

The Admiral handed the pail of cookies to Tiner and read.  "Roses are red, violets are blue...  What the hell is this?"

"Keep reading, Sir," the Ensign requested.

"Your tits are so sweet, I want to screw you.  My God!  Tiner!!  Get rid of these things!" he bellowed, storming out of the cafeteria.  Mac was on his heels in an instant.  They didn't bother waiting for the elevator.  The Admiral took the stairs two at a time.  Mac scrambled up behind him.  He burst through the JAG Ops doors and bellowed, "Lieutenant Singer!!  My office!!  NOW!!!"

Mac stopped at her office.  The Admiral hadn't requested her presence, and she really did NOT want to be in there for this dressing down.  She watched a very pale Singer scurry into the Admiral's office.

"God, I'm glad I'm not in her shoes right now," said Harm, walking up behind Mac.  "What happened anyway?  Tiner went running out of here like a bat out of Hades yelling something about fortune cookies.  Then Singer got on the phone and started yelling at someone... sounded like she must have been talking to Ted Lindsey."

Sturgis walked up to them.  "Did you hear about the fortune cookies?" he asked.  "The brass at the Pentagon is furious!  Somebody's gonna lose their job over this; I can see it coming."

Mac informed Harm about the fortunes in the cookies.  "All of them are that way?" he asked incredulously.

"No, evidently, it's not all of them."

"But more than an acceptable number, obviously," Sturgis said.

"An acceptable number would be zero, Commander," Mac told him.  

"Ah, come on, Mac.  They can't be that bad," said Harm, placatingly.

"No, Sir.  They're worse," said the Marine guard at the doorway.  "Here's the one I got, Sir."  He handed it to Harm.

Harm read the fortune. "Oh my God!"

Monday, 17 June 2002
1515 EDT
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

Lauren Singer slammed the phone down on her desk.  "Damn it!"

"Lieutenant!" Mac scolded.  "You're in pretty deep right now.  I'd watch my language, if I were you."

"Sorry, Ma'am."

Tiner walked up to Singer's desk and said, "The Admiral wants to know the status, Lieutenant.  Colonel, he wants you present, as well, Ma'am."

Both women followed Tiner to the Admiral's office and Mac knocked on the door.  The Admiral looked up from his papers.  "Enter."

"Colonel MacKenzie and Lieutenant Singer reporting as ordered, Sir," Mac said crisply.

"Colonel, have a seat.  Lieutenant, at ease.  Status?"

"Admiral, evidently the company we ordered the fortune cookies..."

"Not 'we', Lieutenant.  You.  You ordered the cookies," the Admiral corrected her.

"Yes, Sir.  Evidently the company from whom I ordered the cookies vended their stuffing out to another organization.  And they stuffed about 1/3 of our cookies with sayings for a bachelor party."

"And what organization did they vend it to, Lieutenant?"

"A frat house in Philadelphia, Sir."

"Was it intentional, Lieutenant?"

"Sir?"

"Did they know these cookies were for the government?  For the Pentagon?"

Singer bit her lip.  "I believe they did, Sir."

"Tell me, again, Lieutenant.  Why was it you changed vendors?"

"To save us money, Sir."

"You could have saved us a lot more than money if you'd just canned the whole idea, Lieutenant."

"I couldn't do that, Sir.  It was the SecNav's idea to have the fortune cookies."

"Do you honestly believe that he is going to lay claim to that now?  After this fiasco?"  Singer just stood there dumbly.  "This one's going to cost you dearly, Lieutenant.  You'll be lucky if you're not brought up on charges by the SecNav's office."

"I wouldn't worry about that, Sir," Singer said, quite sure of herself.

The Admiral raised his eyebrow.  "Oh?  And why is that, Lieutenant?"

"I have an ace in the hole, Sir."

"Do you now..."

Singer grinned.  "Commander Lindsey."

The Admiral looked at Mac and nodded.  "Tell her, Colonel."

Mac turned to Singer and said, "Lieutenant Commander Lindsey is on his way to Iceland as we speak, Lieutenant.  He won't be of any help to you whatsoever."

"Oh," Singer blanched.  'Oh my God.  Teddy was demoted!  Well, maybe that's good.  Maybe that means that he took the fall for the whole thing, and I'll be fine.'

"Dismissed."

Friday, 21 June 2002
1025 EDT
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia

The ruckus died down by the end of the week, and Lieutenant Singer was now Ensign Singer.  She'd requested and been granted a new duty station, and now she was on her way to Okinawa.  

The Admiral stood in the doorway of Mac's office.  "You have a minute, Colonel?"

Mac looked up, startled.  "Do I...?  Of course, Admiral," she stood up from behind her desk.  'Since when does the Admiral ask if I have a minute?' she wondered.

"Keep your seat," he motioned for her to sit back down.  As he walked in, he shut the door behind him.  "I have a favor to ask, Mac.  A personal favor."

Mac was completely taken by surprise.  "Admiral, I'll be more than happy to do anything..."

"Hear me out first, Mac.  You may not be so eager to agree when you hear what it is."  Mac nodded her agreement.  "I have to make my annual jaunt to Hawaii and check up on how the JAG office is running out there.  Don't know why Nelson insists on it every year.  Never have any problems with that office," he shook his head.  "Anyway, my daughter sent me a birthday present earlier this month.  One that requires a bit of attention."

"Attention, Sir?  You mean, like a plant?" Mac asked.

"Not exactly, Mac.  It's a dog.  She sent me a dog."

"How do you send someone a dog?" Mac laughed.

"I didn't ask.  But when I opened the door, there was a basket on my doorstep with a puppy in it... and a card from my daughter.  She even named the damned thing."

Mac smiled.  "What did she name him?"

"Her.  It's a female."

"The name?" Mac prompted.

The Admiral sighed.  "Bimbo."

"Bimbo?" Mac laughed.  "Francesca named your dog Bimbo, Sir?"  

He nodded.  "It's Italian for Baby.  She didn't realize the connotation of the word bimbo over here."

Mac laughed. "Didn't she?"

"God, I hope not!" he chuckled.  "Anyway, I wondered if you'd mind keeping the dog for me while I'm in Hawaii?  I could board her; that's actually what I intended to do.  But she's so little, and the other dogs are so big..."

"What kind of dog is she, Admiral?"

He replied, "A Yorkshire Terrier.  And she is a holy terror.  She's only 12 weeks old, and she weighs a whopping 2 pounds."  Mac giggled.  "What?  What's funny?"

"I'm sorry, Sir.  I just can't quite picture you with a little Yorkie.  A German Shepherd, a Lab... but not a Yorkie," Mac laughed.

The Admiral nodded his agreement as he stood and walked to her window, staring outside.  "Imagine my surprise!  I open the front door and find a basket with a piece of fluff called a dog with a note that says her name is Bimbo.  And I yell 'Bimbo!' just as my guest of the prior evening comes walking out of the bedroom with nothing on but a towel.  Of course, she thinks I'm calling her a bimbo... and oh, God.. it just went from bad to..."  He stopped and turned to face Mac.  "I can't believe I just told you that."

Mac was blushing profusely as he spoke.  She knew he'd forgotten who he was talking to.  That much was obvious.  "Not a problem, Admiral.  I'm glad you had a nice birthday.. um, night before... um..."  She got flustered.  "Yes, Sir, I'll be happy to take care of your little bimbo for you."  She gasped.  "That's not what I meant, Sir.  I meant..."

"I know what you meant, Mac.  And thank you.  I leave on Sunday, so if I could drop her off tonight or tomorrow, that would be best."

"Not a problem, Sir.  I'll be home all evening tonight and most of the day tomorrow.  Whichever is better for you.  Would it be easier if I came to get her?" she offered.

"Easier for me, but not for you," he said.

"It's not a problem at all, Sir.  I'd be happy to pick her up whenever you say."  They settled on Saturday morning.

Continue to Part 2.