Fanfic #2

Baby-sitting

Author: Packrat

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Oh, Baby!

Summary: Little AJ and Big AJ

Contact author: [email protected]

Disclaimer: The show JAG and its characters belong to Belisarius Productions, Paramount Network TV, CBS and Viacom INC.  They are used for entertainment purposes only.  No infringement of copyrights was intended.

 

BABY-SITTING

Because he was deeply immersed in the complexities of an interesting appeal, at first he didn't realize what he was hearing; but the sound became more insistent, and he finally looked up, blinking. <What the hell?>

 

It was mid-afternoon, and the September day was sunny, bright light from the window falling over the admiral's shoulder and vying with the reading light on his desk. A couple of law books lay at his left elbow, one on top of the other, open to precedents cited in the appeal he was working on. Beyond that on both corners of the desk were piles of files, neat ones on the right where Tiner had deposited them and messily cross-stacked on the left where he had identified them and then put them in his own arcane order, depending on how urgent they were and who they would probably be assigned to. The rest of the room caught less of the light, but it still glinted off the comfortable leather chairs in front of the desk and in the corner where there was a conversational group, as well as the plaques and pictures on the wood-paneled walls. The tv screen in the wall, now muted, cast its own glow.

 

A.J. frowned. Surely that wasn't a baby! The muted wailing continued unabated, not furious nor afraid, but just the tired crying of a child who didn't want to be there. He stood up, listened for a moment longer, and then, suspecting who it was, went in search of the culprit.

 

There was no one at Tiner's desk when he walked by, but, as expected, practically the entire bullpen was gathered around Ensign Campbell, who was awkwardly cradling little A.J. Roberts in her arms, trying to soothe him. The baby was dressed in a cute one-piece play-suit printed with bright-colored pictures of the Tasmanian devil and would have been the cutest baby ever seen except for his crumpled-up face and loud crying.

Someone spotted the admiral and sent an urgent alert to the entire group who straightened up and turned as one to look worriedly at their boss.

 

"At ease," he directed them, adding, "Ensign?" his tone asking the question he had not put into words.

 

"Sorry, sir," the hapless ensign replied. "We didn't intend to disturb you. I've been trying to quiet him down."

 

Admiral Chegwidden considered her, even as another of the young women offered to take little A.J. off her hands and Campbell shook her head. "His father is at a pivotal point in the Mendez trial this afternoon. I suppose that explains where his mother is, too."

 

"I'll go and get her," Tiner offered quickly, not quite taking a step toward the door.

 

"No." A.J. cut him off decisively. "That might throw Lt. Roberts off his stride, and we don't want that." He moved toward the group. "Suppose you all get back to work," he suggested pointedly and the entire bunch obediently scattered as he looked around by the desks. "Did Harriet leave a baby-bag here somewhere?" he asked Campbell.

 

"Ah...yes, sir," she replied, looking mildly bemused. "It's right there," and she used her chin to point to the cute, quilted bag that was just visible under her desk.

 

"Good." The admiral pulled it out, placing it on the ensign's seat and opening it. "I presume you've tried feeding him?"

 

"Yes, sir," she answered promptly, nodding at the bottle standing on her desk.

"And he doesn't need changing?"

 

"No, sir. I checked." The girl didn't quite know what to make of his questions, but she was game, knowing that the entire bullpen was watching them out of the corners of their eyes.

 

Chegwidden, who knew that, too, pulled a receiving blanket out of the bag, folded it in half, and placed it over his shoulder. "All right, Ensign, give him to me, please."

 

"Sir?" The young woman looked at him blankly, more than a little amazed.

A.J. just held out his arms. "Back in the Stone Age, I had one that size," he replied dryly. "I do know something about them."

 

Campbell's eyes were enormous, but she surrendered the baby without further comment. There had been one smothered giggle at the admiral's comment, but there was no way of knowing who laughed and A.J. wasn't interested anyway. It would have been nice if little A.J. had shut up the moment big A.J. took him, but it didn't happen. If anything, he fussed louder for a moment. The admiral, however, put him up against his shoulder, as opposed to the cradling position in which Campbell had been holding him, and the baby did begin to lower the volume a bit after a moment.

 

Ignoring the eyebrows going up and down around the room, A.J. looked toward the door, briefly considering walking down the hall and back. Then he rejected that, realizing immediately that the noise would be sure to be heard in the trial he was at such pains not to disturb. Instead he turned and went back into Tiner's office and thence to the conference room. Here the baby should disturb very few, and he had the room to pace and try to soothe the child.

 

He made a couple of circuits of the table, talking softly to the little boy and gently rubbing his back, but didn't notice it helping much. All right, time for plan B. Going through Tiner's office again, he ignored his petty officer and went into his own office, closing the door with his foot and crossing to the desk. Sitting down carefully, he leaned back in the comfortable chair until it was at about a 120 degree angle and then moved the child until it was centered on his chest. It was an old trick he'd used on Francesca when she was very small. The combination of the warmth from his body and the sound of his heart had done the trick every time, calming his little girl until she would fall asleep. Of course, half the fun was that it alternately pleased and irritated his then-wife, who felt that she should be the baby expert, not him, especially since he was frequently away from home.

 

The baby's wailing had slowed to bursts of fussing, alternating with thumb-sucking already, and A.J. found himself relaxing, too, as he continued to gently rub the baby's back. God, it had been a long time since he'd done this! Twenty-six years since Francesca had been this size, and no prospect of a grandchild on the horizon yet. He knew perfectly well that first there had to be a loving, supportive relationship, and since she was still getting over that twice-damned mafioso, she wasn't going to be looking any time soon. He truly wished her love and happiness, but since it had eluded him, too, he wasn't going to say anything about how she chose to live her life. He had no right, and he knew it.

 

He wouldn't have this little mite around to spoil for long either. Once Bud had a year of litigation under his belt, it was incumbent on him as commanding officer to help the Roberts build their careers. The next step should be posting Bud overseas, possibly to Gaeta, where both Bud and Harriet should have an enjoyable time as well as a chance to grow and gain experience.

 

A.J. sighed. Now and then it was damned irritating to have to be responsible for looking out for others. He hadn't seen a whole lot of little A.J., just glimpses of him as his mother had brought him by the office over the first few months to liven up Lt. Roberts' days. She was now back to work and they had a babysitter for little A.J. so he didn't appear in the office as often, but big A.J. was enjoying the child and didn't want to let go yet. Maybe two years in Washington....

 

He sighed again, pulling the blanket off his shoulder and tucking it around little A.J., then relaxing and interlacing his fingers over the bottom of the sleeping child. <I'll worry about that later> he thought.

 

About half an hour later Harriet, dressed in jeans and a red bandana-print shirt, waltzed into the bullpen and announced, "He's beating the pants off the defense!" to all and sundry. Then her face changed to shock as she realized that her baby was nowhere in sight. "Marissa!" she gasped. "Where's little A.J.?"

 

"Oh, Harriet, I did try to keep him quiet, but just a couple of minutes after you left, he started crying, and he wouldn't stop!"

 

"I know. He had me up all night. That's why I stayed home with him today. So where is he?" Harriet demanded.

 

Marissa Campbell made a small face. "The admiral has him."

 

"The admiral!" Harriet was appalled. "You've got to be kidding!" And she dashed for the inner office. Coming to a halt in front of Tiner's desk, she asked in a stage-whisper, "Is he in there?" and pointed to the door of the admiral's private office.

 

"Yes, ma'am," Tiner replied seriously. "Both of them."

 

"What's going on?" Harriet questioned, eyes huge in her face.

 

"I don't know, ma'am," Tiner answered. "I haven't heard a sound for the last forty minutes." He smiled tentatively. "I've been taking messages instead of putting his calls through."

 

Harriet looked pained. "Do I knock?"

 

"I don't know, ma'am," Tiner responded, his smile changing to sympathy.

 

Harriet considered it, then took a deep breath, gently turned the knob, and eased the door open. Sure enough, there was her baby, fast asleep on the admiral's chest, and he was fast asleep, too.

 

She was just about to pull the door shut again when Admiral Chegwidden suddenly said in a quiet voice, "Lieutenant?"

 

She straightened up even though she wasn't in uniform and stepped into the office. "Sir."

 

"Come to claim your offspring?" he inquired with just a touch of asperity.

 

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir," she replied, moving across the room to lift the baby off him. The admiral promptly sat up as Harriet cooed to her son who had woken up as his mother lifted him and who was now gazing seriously at her. Then his face crumpled and he began sobbing again.

 

"I'm sorry, sir," she said hurriedly. "I'll get him right out of here."

 

"And you won't use JAG as a baby-sitting service again, will you, Lieutenant," he added pointedly.

 

She shook her head, taking a step backward. "No, sir. I'm sorry, sir. I only intended to be in the courtroom for a few minutes."

 

Chegwidden raised his eyebrows at that. "How is Bud doing?" he asked courteously.

 

She gave him one of her sunny smiles in return. "Great. I mean, the opposing counsel is good, but Bud made a point that she couldn't answer."

 

That got a nod. "Good for him."

 

Harriet suddenly looked stricken. "You had planned to attend the trial, hadn't you, sir?"

 

"I had considered it," A.J. responded, then took pity on her. "But I didn't mind what I wound up doing. He's a great kid."

 

She made a face. "Yes, sir, most of the time. He's not very happy right now, though, and I can't figure out why he's running a little fever. I may have to be out again tomorrow so I can take him to the pediatrician."

 

Feeling about a thousand years old, A.J. looked at her. "He's teething, Lieutenant. By this evening, he'll have cut the tooth and by tomorrow, he should be fine. Put your finger on his lower gum right in the middle and you'll be able to feel it."

 

Harriet stared. Then she did as directed, inserting a gentle finger into her child's mouth and looking joyously back at her commanding officer. "You're right. He's growing his first tooth! Oh, wow!! I've got to show this to Bud." She partially turned, then looked back at the admiral.

 

"Dismissed," he said, waving her out of the room.

 

"Yes, sir," she answered with her wonderful combination of cheerfulness and respect. "Thank you, sir." And she hurried away.

 

A.J. looked after her for a moment, then shook his head. "Thank you, Harriet and little A.J., for the most restful afternoon I've spent in a long time," he muttered, preparing to settle back down to the appeal and thinking <Maybe I'll call Francesca tonight.>

 

The End

 

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