Hi guys! Just trying something I do not recall reading among the JAG fanfics yet. This is just a first chapter and hopefully I will manage to finish the next one soon. Reviews welcome :)


Lt. Gregory Vukovic was a handsome bastard, and he very well knew it. Women wanted him and he knew that as well. Ever since aunts and great-aunts fussed and gushed over his cuteness when he was just seven he had always been aware of a particular talent, which with coming years proved both useful and exhilarating.

He could charm any girl. It became a hobby for a year or two when he was in high school. It did not matter who the girl was. The prom Queen or a cheerleader, a nerd with specs, the muscled sports-lover or the shy chubby girl who would always sit by herself. With meticulous planning and precision, which still left a lot of bitterness and broken teenage hearts in his wake, he attempted to woo them all. And aside from one or two girls, who had already been taken by his friends, he was always successful. Those who dismissed him as a horny Casanova or a stud in need of back-clapping and validation of his peers, however, misunderstood Gregory (or Vic, as he preferred to be called ever since he was 13). What spurred him on was something different. The need to constantly test the potency of his ability to win people over. To make them open up to him. To manipulate them, if possible. After all what better way to set your own life than by bending those who make up that life to the shape you want them in? And it worked. For years and years it worked. He had no regrets. He was handsome, intelligent, successful. The world was his for the taking.

There was that one girl though. That one who fell for the same tricks as all the others. The difference was that he genuinely liked that girl. Her fingers felt dainty in his grasp and her hair always smelled of chamomile. Her eyes were dark, and she would hum to herself while folding laundry. He wanted her forever. She felt right to him. But she proved him wrong when she let him stand at the Magistrate office, a band of rose gold unpleasantly warm in his clenched palm. Her explanation over the phone few hours later was brief. She did not want him anymore. She had realized he was pressing her into everything because it was what he wanted at the moment. And she was done with all the lying. No. Not sleeping with other women was not good enough if all he stopped short of was exactly that. She cared neither for an unfamiliar perfume on his shirt, nor for his curt answers to her questions on his activities.

That was the only time in his life when he thought the sappy love songs streaming from the radio made perfect sense. He did not like that time. He did not like his heart broken. It sucked.

His studies and his quickly progressing naval career soon gave him all the distraction he needed. His success at conquering and bedding the most attractive women continued, though it took a second place to his professional ambitions now. When he was offered the posting at JAG headquarters he knew that all his ambitions were coming to fruition. He would make an impression. He would sweep through the stale office like a fresh wind. He would make his mark.

And then he made the first step out of the elevator in the JAG building and the first thing he felt was somebody's shoulder as he bumped into a person, first thing he saw were flying papers and file folders landing on the floor. Eager to rectify his mistake he bent and gathered everything, a mere millisecond later his eyes noted the black heels. Then the long, slender legs, disappearing under the standard length uniform skirt. The small waist and whatever was visible of the swell of her breasts. He could not help but be impressed just by glancing at the awards and decorations pinned to her uniform. Yet the most extraordinary thing was her face.

She was gorgeous. Not a young girl anymore, but a woman in full bloom, with beauty radiating not merely from her features, rather from the depth of feeling etched into them. He had no idea who she was and was looking at her for all of the ten seconds, offered an apology and asked for directions for the General's office, yet even within that passing moment he felt all the secrets of the world were written in her face. This was a woman who had lived a thousand stories and all of them have left their imprint on her soul. She was so full of them she could not hide them from the world unless she could set the sun and cover the world and herself in darkness at will.

The following weeks proved perhaps more exciting yet at the same time less stellar for him. The JAG office was anything but stale and frigid. On the contrary. It was peopled with characters so varied and colorful it was a bit mind-boggling at how well they all worked together. He had yet to find his solid place in the whole machinery and it left him feeling unsure, which in turn fueled his frustration and ambition to prove himself. He had chosen to be bold and aggressive. The general seemed to like his attitude. Unfortunately his co-workers treated him as something that needs to be dealt with rather than welcoming him amongst them. He supposed that was bound to happen when people worked so closely together for many years (which was apparently the case for a number of them), but he was not the only newbie around. Tally Mayfield had had no trouble making a good impression. Tally Mayfield. God certainly had a sense of humor installing her at JAG at the same time as him.

Thankfully his focus was on his job.

And increasingly on Lt. Colonel Sarah Mackenzie.

He had tried his old game of charm on her repeatedly, only to be shot down without a second thought. Even if she bestowed a few smiles upon him, they were marked with silent, judging amusement more than anything. So why did he keep trying? Perhaps he was encouraged by the rumours he had managed to gather around the office and facts he had wrestled out of old files. There was a dead husband and a forbidden love affair with a senior officer in her official past. A wedding that never took place and a murdered boyfriend shadowed her name in whispers. There were also some hints on an inappropriate relationship between the Colonel and the Commander Harmon Rabb, but since he only had crossed the latter in passing and did not witness any interaction between the two, he chalked that one up to the unsupported rumour mill. Considering they were supposed to be partners they spent precious little time together. Maybe it was the opposite thing, and they hated each other? Maybe the General assigned them different cases to keep things quiet and calm at the headquarters? In any case, Vic had no clear answer to the question of why Sarah Mackenzie occupied so many of his thoughts. He was not in love with her. His growing desire to have her, completely have her, mind and body, even if only for a few hours of possible recklessness on her part and abandonment of reason on his, was as much an enigma to him as the woman herself.

She just fascinated him.

And he wanted her.