Office Pool by Maureen S. O'Brien Rating: G Category: Summary: Gambling in the workplace. Tsk, tsk, tsk. What'll Chegwidden do when he finds out? (Harm/Mac content.) Disclaimer: JAG belongs to CBS, Paramount (feh) and Belisarius Productions. I don't think they really want this story.... Author's Note: This one's for Jason "J-Five" Crutchfield, who runs the pools where I work. Not that he'll ever read this, but.... This is set in an alternate JAG near future. Because of course our JAGsters would never really do anything like this. Right? ---------------------------------------------------------- There was a time when Admiral A.J. Chegwidden had no heart. When all he cared about was his country and his ambition. When every action he made was part of some grand plan. When his trusted aide was Krennick. He wasn't like that anymore. Except when traffic was really, really bad. One spring morning, Admiral Chegwidden came in late, disgruntled, and ready to chew someone out. He almost brightened when he saw LTJG Bud Roberts standing around chatting with PO Tiner. He felt even better when he realized that neither of them had seen him coming up. "Oh, come on. You've seen what they've been like lately. But if it doesn't happen within three months, all money will be returned," Roberts was saying. "The major and the commander will never find out. And it's only a dollar." "I don't know," Tiner replied slowly. "I don't want to do anything that could get me in trouble with the admiral...." "Of course you don't." "Admiral on the deck!" said Tiner, hurriedly snapping to. "Good morning. Glad to find you two so hard at work...it is work that you were discussing?" "Uh, no, sir," Bud admitted uncomfortably. "It's an office pool." "So you think the United States Navy wants you to spend its time to promote gambling on...baseball, lieutenant?" The admiral peered at the squares of names and dates. "What are the dates for?" "Um, it's not baseball, sir. Actually, that's how long people guess it will be till...um...." "Spit it out, Mr. Roberts." "Till Commander Rabb and Major Mackenzie start dating, sir." The admiral blinked. Then the admiral smiled. It was a cold smile. An evil smile. A smile that was made solely of teeth, and Bud Roberts could feel them about to get cozy with his jugular. He was dead. The admiral reached into his pocket, opened his wallet, and drew out a dollar. "I want in." Bud blinked, then blinked again. Then he scrambled into motion and pulled out his pen. "What date would you like, sir?" The admiral told him. "But that's today, sir." "So it is, lieutenant. Is that a problem? Has someone taken that date?" "Uh, nossir. I'll put you down for today. Any other date?" "No, I think that will be sufficient participation in office activities for me. Carry on. Oh, and don't forget to remind Rabb and Mackenzie that I need to see them on the Fiona MacDonald matter at 1500 sharp." "Aye-aye, sir." The admiral went into his office. Roberts and Tiner breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, it looks like it's not going to get you in trouble with the admiral," Bud said. "Are you in?" "Sure," said Tiner. "After all, it's only a dollar." And he smiled. Tiner announced Rabb and Mackenzie. A few seconds later, the admiral's clock began to chime. The admiral almost smiled. "Commander Rabb, Major Mackenzie. How is the MacDonald matter progressing?" Talk of depositions and discoveries, the giving of status reports. Rabb and Mackenzie a united front as usual, hopeful of victory as usual. And as had become usual, the admiral could feel a certain pleasant tension between them. But today, it got on his nerves. If he'd ever had what they had, it wouldn't have taken him this long to figure it out. "Before you two go, I'd like to discuss a certain matter." "What's that, sir?" asked Mackenzie. "Well," the admiral continued, somewhat uncomfortably, "it seems that your recent behavior towards each other has been a matter of some discussion in this office." "Oh, that." Rabb looked embarrassed. "We can explain that." The admiral leaned back in his chair. "Explain away, Mr. Rabb." "Well, sir, there's an office pool betting on when Major Mackenzie and I would start dating." "You know about it?" The admiral tried to conceal his dismay. "Yes, sir. I overheard Bud talking about it in the head. The opportunity was obvious, so of course I got Major Mackenzie in on it." She smiled. "We decided to add a little acting to sweeten the pot; that's what you've heard about. Tiner's our front man. One week from today, we'll let ourselves be seen in a clinch, Tiner'll collect from Bud, we'll split the money three ways, and then we'll let everyone in on the sting." "So the fix is in." Rabb smiled. "That's right." "And in reality, you two are not attracted to each other." Mackenzie's eyes danced. "Oh, c'mon, sir. If I answered yes to that one, it'd violate Don't Ask, Don't Tell." Rabb chuckled. "But we're just friends and partners, sir. Nothing more." "You'll have to do some good acting to convince everyone." "We can do it," said Mackenzie. "We've suckered 'em so far." "Yes, but this is more than just...smoldering glances or whatever you've been up to," the admiral pointed out. "This is full facial contact." "Don't worry, sir. We practiced a little and it came out looking convincing." The admiral considered. "You know, I'm going to be in meetings next week. I'd like to see this famous con job for myself. Why don't you give me a sneak preview?" Mackenzie and Rabb glanced at each other, then shrugged. "Okay... Bear in mind this is going to be several yards away from observers," said Rabb. They grabbed each other, kissed, and returned to their normal positions with practiced ease. The admiral was impressed, but he didn't let it show on his face. "You call that a kiss?" "Sir?" They looked at him. "That's not going to convince a blind senile goat, much less a bunch of trained observers!" "Did it really look that bad?" asked Mackenzie, dismayed. "Yeah, I thought it looked pretty realistic from here," said Rabb, puzzled. "Well, from out here it didn't look real at all. You were much too stiff with each other, and you've got to stand closer together. Try to put some feeling into it and try again." They stood closer together. Mackenzie looked up nervously and Rabb carefully didn't look at her. They performed their choreography again, broke apart, and looked at the admiral expectantly. "That was better," he said doubtfully. "But you weren't close enough and you didn't put enough feeling into it. Try again, and don't forget to _look_ at each other. That's a dead giveaway." They stood closer. "That's not close enough." They shuffled in closer still. Now Rabb hardly had to move at all to hold Mackenzie. He could feel every breath she took, every heartbeat. "You're not looking at her," the admiral insisted. "Look into her eyes." Reluctantly, Rabb turned his gaze toward hers. And was lost. There was nothing in the world but brown eyes. There was nothing in the world but blue eyes, and she thanked her genes for an eidetic memory because she would never tire of looking at those eyes, even if she lived to be a thousand. And he was moving toward her, or she was pulling his head down, and it didn't matter, because this was all there was in the world.... And the admiral smiled as they finally broke the kiss and stood staring at each other as if they'd never met before. "Take the rest of the day off," he directed them genially. They nodded numbly. "And be sure to tell Mr. Roberts you're leaving." They nodded again. "Dismissed." "Aye-aye, sir," Rabb managed to say. Barely. The admiral watched them go. He also watched Tiner's face. Then he watched the door shut. "And that is why I'm the admiral," he said with satisfaction. There was a time when Admiral A.J. Chegwidden had been a ruthless man who cared for nothing but power. He wasn't anymore, which was why he would use the money he won from his people to order pizza for them all tomorrow. But on days when traffic was really, really bad.... He liked to stay in practice.