Title: Ah, Me! Full Sorely is My Heart Forlorn
Author/pseudonym: Tinnean
Fandom: JAG
Pairing: Harmon Rabb, Jr./Clayton Webb
Rating: PG-13 for some naughty words
Disclaimer: They belong to Bellisario. Aren't you
paying attention?
Status: new/complete
Date: 07/04
Series/Sequel: Yes! Erm… this is second in the Cry
Me a River series, and follows What Thou Lov'st Well.
Warnings: m/m, general sappiness, continued parody,
spoilers for Webb of Lies, and of course evil!Palmer.
Notes: The title is taken from The School-mistress by
William Shenstone. 'The terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day' is from
Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, etc. etc. Because of the nature of this
story, I've taken some liberties with the actual script of Webb of Lies. I don't
believe we ever learned Yamamoto's first name, so I've given him one. It means
'intelligent' in Japanese. ::snicker:: 'Ta-pocketa' is from the Secret Life of
Walter Mitty. Many thanks to Gail for her wonderful beta.
Ah, Me! Full Sorely is My Heart Forlorn
Part 1
There was a rat-a-tat-tat on his door, and when he went to
open it, Harmon Rabb, Jr., commander in the United States Navy, flyer of
Tomcats, and the best damned lawyer who had ever worked in JAG, saw Clayton Webb
standing there, his dark brown hair in casual disarray.
"Hello there, gorgeous."
"Clay!"
The Deputy Director of Intelligence (Harm always thought of
his lover's title in capitals) for the CIA was carrying a bag of take-out from
The Garden of Vegetarian Delights, the newest vegetarian restaurant in the DC
area, but Harm barely noticed. He threw himself into the arm Clayton held out
and spread giddy kisses on his lover's upturned face.
"How's my clever darling?" Clayton's hazel eyes
gleamed with passion.
Harm blushed at the complement. "Wonderful, now that
you're here!" The man who stood before him was the most brilliant and
handsome of all the operatives in the CIA, and he loved Harm. He stepped
back and reached for the bag. "What are we having?"
"Wraps, sweetness, and a variety to tempt the most
discerning of any palate."
Touched, as always by his lover's thoughtfulness, Harm felt
a tear well up in his eye. "You're so good to me! What kind do we
have?"
"Vegetarian refried beans, hummus, lettuce, tomato,
onion, peppers, jalapeños, black olives, guacamole,
"Spicy!"
"Yes, just like I like my lover!" Clayton teased
gently and pressed his lips to Harm's.
Harm melted under the skill of his lover's kiss. Finally,
breathless, he drew back. "I've had such a craving for a Garden wrap!"
"Oh?" Clayton raised his eyebrow, and Harm
blushed.
"Silly! You know what I mean! They make them so well!
Why don't you get the plates, Clay? And would you prefer a beer or that
Chardonnay I keep for you?"
"I think I'll join you in a
beer, dear heart." Clayton relinquished their dinner, and Harm
watched with appreciative eyes as his lover strolled into the kitchen to get the
plates, eating utensils, because, after all, civilized men did not eat with
their fingers, and the beer. He loved Clayton's body, almost as much as he loved
the man's keen-edged mind.
Harm sighed happily. And they both belonged to him!
****
Harm rolled onto his back and stretched his long limbs in
luxurious, languid movements.
"That was wonderful, Clay!" Harm knew he was
going to feel the way his very well-endowed lover had filled and stretched him
the next day. Each twinge, each ache and it would be as if Clayton was with him,
buried deep inside.
He blushed furiously with naughty delight.
And none of his co-workers would have a clue, not the
Admiral, not Mac or Bud or Gunny or Tiner...
Clayton dropped a kiss on Harm's collarbone, nibbled up his
throat to his ear, then blew softly, and Harm gave a voluptuous shiver. He
rolled his head to capture his lover's mouth in a kiss, then frowned when
Clayton's cell phone shrilled.
"I thought you had turned that off."
"You know I have to stay in contact, light of my
life." Clayton rose from the
platform bed and retrieved his cell phone from the inner pocket of his suit
jacket, which he'd hung in Harm's closet.
Harm found something so arousing in seeing his lover's
clothes hanging next to his. He frowned when he realized Clayton was speaking
into the phone in hushed tones, and he couldn't make heads or tails of what he
was saying.
"Clay?" Harm started as Clayton shut his phone
with a snap, returned it to his pocket, and crossed to the chair where he'd left
his undergarments. "You don't have to leave already, do you? It's still
early." Harm stared avidly as Clayton bent to pull on his boxer briefs, the
soft, silken material hugging the firm globes of his tush.
"I'm sorry, angel eyes. I have to. That was the
Company." Clayton drew on his trousers, then sat on the edge of the bed and
worked the black socks with the design of hearts and diamonds woven into the
material over his feet.
Harm loved the way those socks clung and emphasized each
curve of his lover's masculine foot, the long toes, the high, manly arch, the
rounded heel. He'd gone out to buy those socks especially for Clayton.
Harm tiptoed up his fingers up the line of his lover's
spine, then followed it with warm lips, and hummed happily when Clayton leaned
back into the caress.
"I wish they could leave you alone for at least one
night of the week!" Harm knelt up behind the shorter man and pressed
himself against the solid warmth of his back, reaching around to stroke his
fingertips across his lover's pebble-hard nipples. "Where are you going,
Clay?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you, darling." Clayton
stood with obvious reluctance and stepped away from the bed and its tempting
occupant. He crossed the room to the chair where he'd left his shirt, hung
neatly over the back.
"Of course you can tell me, Clay! I'm a lieutenant
commander in the Navy. I've flown Tomcats. I'm a lawyer with JAG!"
He was stunned to hear Clayton say, "I'm sorry,
precious. It's strictly 'need-to-know'."
"I need to
know!" Harm's lower lip thrust out in a pout that he was certain would melt
his lover.
"Best beloved…" It seemed as if Clayton was not
going to give Harm his way.
"Don't you 'best beloved' me, Clayton Webb! If I were
truly your 'best beloved', you'd tell me where you were going!"
"You are my best beloved, my only
beloved, Harm, but I can't tell you!" Clayton was looking grim, and
Harm felt his heart stutter in dismay. His lover had never denied him anything
before.
Harm watched with reproachful eyes as Clayton finished
dressing as quickly as possible, saying nothing more. He knew his blue orbs had
to be suspiciously bright, but when Clayton glanced at him, Harm made sure he
was pointedly staring past his lover's shoulder.
He heard the other man sigh and begin to walk slowly toward
the door. Stubbornly, the Lieutenant Commander folded his lips closed,
determined to let the intelligence officer leave without calling him back for a
final goodbye.
Clayton spat a curse, strode back to the bed, and took the
lush mouth in a hungry kiss. Harm was thrilled, certain that now his lover would
tell him what he would be doing.
"I have to go." Clayton bit back whatever other
words he might have said.
"Go if you're going!" Harm's lips quivered, and
his eyes welled with tears that clung to his absurdly long lashes.
"I'll be back as soon as I can, dear delight."
Clayton paused at the door and looked back. Harm quickly looked away.
"Always remember I love you, Harmon."
The door closed quietly.
****
Harm lay on the bed in complete and total shock.
Clayton had walked out on him!
He sniffled hard and stared in dismay at the door, through
which his lover had gone without a seeming regret.
A single teardrop clung to his eyelashes, then spilled over
and rolled down his check.
"Clay," he whispered plaintively, his voice
breaking on the lone syllable. "Clay!"
He buried his face in the pillow that bore his lover's
scent and wept.
****
Harm plunged into his work, and the first couple of days
passed. Eight and ten times a day he accessed his voice mail, but never once was
there a message from the man who was… who had been his lover.
Finally, unable to bear the loneliness of his loft, he
called Clayton's number. He smiled in relief as he heard his lover's voice.
"This is Webb..."
"Ah, Clay, I can't stay mad at you…"
"… I can't come to the phone right now…"
Harm stared at his phone in disbelief. Clayton was still
not at home? A horrible thought occurred to him. Maybe Clayton was
home, but avoiding him! Maybe Clayton didn't love him any more!
Well, that was fine, he assured himself.
He didn't need a secretive, enigmatic, inscrutable CIA spook in his life.
His lower lip trembled.
//Who was he fooling?// he demanded of himself. He might
not need a secretive, enigmatic, inscrutable spook, but he needed Clayton Webb.
"Clay?" In spite of himself, Harm's tone was
forlorn. "I miss you. Call me?"
But more days went by, and when there still was no word
from the man who he thought loved him above all else, Harm began to feel
decidedly put-upon. How dared Clayton promise he'd love him forever, and then
just walk away from what they had? He'd show Clayton Webb! Just see
if he didn't!
"Oh, Harm!" Sarah 'Mac' Mackenzie, the Marine
colonel who was assigned to JAG, and who was his good friend, came striding up.
"Did Bud… Gee, your eyes are red! Is something wrong?"
"Oh, er… " Mac wasn't the first person to
remark about his reddened eyes, and he was tired of making excuses.
"Allergies."
"You ought to take something for that. Antihistamines,
maybe."
He gave a weak smile. "What were you going to ask
about Bud?"
"Oh, yes. Did he get you those briefs?"
"Yes. I was just going to go over them in my
office."
"Good. I have a sneaking suspicion this clown we're
investigating has ties to the DSD. If we dig deep enough…"
"Hi, Harm." The contralto interrupting them was
warm and low. "Colonel."
"Hello,
"Lieutenant Commander Parker."
"Call me Jordan, Harm." She
rested her neatly manicured nails on the back of his hand, pointedly ignoring
Mac. "You look kind of upset, Harm. Maybe it would help if you talked about
whatever is bothering you?"
"Oh, no, I couldn't…"
"Certainly you could, Harm. I'm a professional! You
can talk to me!"
Mac stiffened. "I have work to do." She turned on
her heel and stalked away.
"I wonder what's up with Mac," Harm mused.
//Why not?// If Clayton didn't appreciate him, here was
someone who obviously did. "
"Fine. I'll pick you up at your place? Say around 8?
Wear something… casual."
Clayton always liked when he wore a suit. His lover had
even bought him one. The very first time Harm had worn it, Clayton had stripped
the trousers down off his hips, bent him over the back of the couch, and made
passionate love to him while he'd still been almost completely dressed. Harm
shivered in remembered heat.
"Harm?"
"All right." He put a note of enthusiasm into his
voice. "I can't wait! This will be so fun!"
"Yes, it will."
He walked away, and when he glanced over his shoulder, it
was to find her staring wistfully in the direction the Marine colonel had gone.
His step faltered. Was this really a good idea?
Well, it didn't matter. He was going to let her take him to
dinner.
But he would so much rather it was Clayton.
****
Clayton knew all the best places in the Capital. Why hadn't
his lover taken him there?
Finally, for want of something better to say, he found
himself suggesting, "So,
"That would be nice, Harm. Thank you."
Harm visited the men's room, and when he returned,
"You drive very well,
"Thanks, Harm. Sar … " She cleared her throat
and slanted a glance at him. "I mean a girlfriend of mine likes the way I
drive, too."
"Oh!" Harm became flustered. Was
"Yes, I know. I picked you up, remember? Sweet.
There's a parking spot in front." She parked the car, walked around to the
passenger side, and opened the door for Harm.
They went up to his loft, and he set about brewing a pot of
coffee. He became a little uneasy when
"Come on and sit next to me, Harm."
Harm stood there, indecision in every line, then took a
step toward her, intending to sit for just a few seconds, until the coffee
finished brewing, but before he could sit down, the phone rang. A frison of
excitement ran up his spine. He knew it was Clayton.
Well, he would just let the machine pick it up.
//This is Harm. I can't take your call right now, but if
you leave your name and number, I'll get right back to you.//
"Harm, it's Clay!"
//I knew it!// he thought triumphantly.
"If you're there, pick up! I need to talk to you! It's
an emergency!"
When he made no effort to pick up the phone,
"It's always an emergency with Webb." Harm tilted
his chin up and sniffed.
"Harm, I know you're there! Pick up!" The
sternness in his lover's voice made Harm's dick start to harden.
But there was no answer.
****
They told him Clayton Webb was dead, his body so badly
burned they'd had to identify his remains through dental records.
//He's not dead! He can't be dead!// Harm told himself over
and over, a mantra that got him through that terrible, horrible, no good, very
bad day.
But even Porter Webb, Clayton's mother, seemed to accept
the news with equanimity. She was so cool, so contained. Didn't she care that
her son was gone? Harm wanted to weep.
And then Markov, Mrs. Webb's butler, had interrupted them
to say, "You have a phone call, ma'am."
'Take a message, please, Markov?"
"Ma'am, it's from Lt. Abby Cowen."
"Yes, of course. Harm, if you'll excuse me?"
She'd left him standing there.
Later, at JAG, he complained about that to Sarah 'Mac'
Mackenzie. "How could she possibly want to talk to some police lieutenant
when *I* was there?"
"Hmm," Mac said. "Lt. Abby Cowen? You know
something, Harm? I'll bet that's an anagram! Let me write down the name."
Harm watched in amazement as the Marine colonel moved the
letters from one position to another. He'd been secretly in awe of her from the
time he'd realized she could tell time in her head.
"Ah hah!" she exclaimed. "It is an
anagram! Lt. Abby Cowen is… Clayton Webb!"
Harm could feel his heart swelling in his chest. Of course
Clayton was still alive! And then he frowned. "I'll bet this was simply
some spook trick of the CIA!" he muttered to himself. "Thanks, Mac.
You're the best!"
Mac opened her mouth to say something, but Harm was already
hurrying out of JAG.
He was going to
get to the bottom of this!
****
The Kamiko Maru. That was the name of the ship his lover
had supposedly died on.
He went below deck to search for Clayton. The smell of
explosives and accelerants still hung on the air, making him sneeze, and then
wrinkle his nose in distaste.
Abruptly he stiffened. Someone was behind him.
"What are you doing here, Harm?"
"Clay! I was looking for you!"
"You put yourself in jeopardy for a dead man?"
Clayton's voice was so cold. Harm shivered.
"I wouldn't believe it when they told me you were
dead."
"And you just went on gut instinct that I was still
alive?"
"I had to come looking for you, Clay, don't you see?
We parted so badly…"
"I thought you knew and accepted that there would be
times when my work came first. I was very disappointed in you, Harmon."
"I'm sorry, Clay." He blinked rapidly to prevent
tears from falling. "I…" He turned to face his lover. "Oh, no!
Oh, my god! You've been shot!"
"It's nothing."
"It isn't nothing, Clay! That looks awful!" He
shuddered at the sight of the ruined pants and the blood that soaked the entry
wound. "I need to get you to a hospital!"
"It's just a flesh wound."
"But there's so much blood! You must be so weak! Let
me carry you out of this place!"
"I'm fine, I promise you." But Clayton was
smiling now, and Harm knew everything would be all right between them.
"If you say so, Clay." He sniffed hard.
"It's just… Oh, I hate having
to share you with the country!"
"Oh, my precious. But you know I couldn't love you as
much as I do if I didn't love our country more!"
"I know," he said in a small voice.
"My precious darling!" Clayton took him in his
arms and kissed him gently. "How did you know I was alive?"
"I was with your Mom when she got the call from Lt.
Abby Cowen."
"And you figured out that it was me? Aren't you the
clever one! Oh, sweetheart, I'm so proud of you!"
Too relieved that Clayton was once again calling him pet
names, Harm kissed the shorter man again. He was reluctant to tell his lover
that it had actually been Mac who had solved the anagram.
Finally Clayton drew back. "It's too dangerous for you
to be here, my own!"
"Please, Clay! Please let me stay!"
"My, my. Isn't this sweet?"
Harm gave a start. He recognized that voice! The last time
he had heard it had been in a courtroom, and he'd been prosecuting the ass off
its owner.
"Clark Palmer! I thought I'd put you in
"Guess what? You thought wrong, fly boy!" Palmer,
a gun in his fist, became all business. "Your gun, Webb." He waggled
his fingers. Clayton's reluctance to hand over his weapon was obvious, but when
Palmer pointed the barrel of his Glock at Harm, Clayton capitulated. "Good
boy."
Harm hated hearing the almost flirtatious tone directed at
his lover. He glared, unnoticed, at Palmer.
"All right, Webb. I want that superconductor."
"I don't have it."
"Gee, I think you're lying, but if you aren't it's
going to be too fucking bad for the Lieutenant Commander's girlfriend."
"Girlfriend?
What's he talking about, Harm?"
"Nothing! He doesn't know what he's saying! Honest,
Clay!" Harm could feel his heartbeat accelerate as panic threatened to
overwhelm him.
"No?" That supercilious, gloating tone from
Palmer. "While you were playing least in sight, Webb, your boy Harm was
playing footsie with Jordan Parker. She's waiting for him in his apartment right
now!"
"No, she isn't! She can't be! I didn't tell her she
could come back!"
"Harm???"
Harm flinched. "I'm sorry, pumpkin. But you were gone,
and… and I was so lonely!"
Palmer laughed. "Ah, Clay, you should have taken me up
on my offer. I wouldn't have bailed on you at the first opportunity."
"Shut the fuck up, Palmer!" Harm shouted, so
distraught he actually used a naughty word. "Clay, it wasn't like that, I
swear it wasn't! I just let her buy me dinner! I wasn't going to cheat on you! I
wasn't!"
"She was in his loft when you tried to reach him,
Webb. Did you know that? When you were bleeding all over the deck of this
ship." His gaze was dispassionate as he watched Clayton sink to the deck,
wincing in pain. "Wonder what they were going to do after they had the
coffee Rabb was making for her."
Harm's eyes widened in alarm, and he fiercely denied any
wrongdoing. "I didn't… She wasn't… We were only… Oh, I hate
you, Clark Palmer!"
Palmer laughed harder. "This is better than a soap
opera, but as much as I'd like to stay and see the outcome of this lovers'
quarrel, I have more important things that need doing." He pointed the
Glock at the CIA officer, dismissing Harm's presence with insulting
indifference.
Harm looked to his lover. Clayton Webb would never give
Clark Palmer the superconductor, Harm would have bet everything that meant
anything to him on that.
Clayton's mouth, the mouth that Harm loved having around
his dick, was a grim line. All his attention was focused on the tall man who
confronted them.
//This is all Palmer's fault,// Harm thought, somewhat
petulantly. //Clay is cross with me, and he's never, ever gotten cross with
me!// Well, Harm just wasn't going to stand for it! He'd impress his lover, and
he'd show Palmer he was more than just a pretty face at the same time!
No one ever thought of him carrying a gun; that was why
Palmer hadn't frisked him. Harm shivered at the thought of the DSD agent's hands
on his body, his gorge rising in his throat. He reached for the gun he'd tucked
into his waistband. No matter what anyone might think, he wasn't dumb enough to
go into a dangerous situation without some kind of weapon!
"The superconductor, Webb," Palmer was saying
while he smirked, not paying any attention to Harm. "And maybe if you're
really cooperative, we'll ditch pretty boy here, and I'll show you what it's
like fucking a real man!"
//That wet boy and my
Clay in bed together?// Harm bit back a sob and aimed his gun at Palmer. He
couldn't see clearly for the tears that flooded his eyes. Palmer was laughing,
though, and Harm fired in the direction of the self-satisfied sound.
There was a grunt, and Palmer went stumbling back. Harm
fired again, and the tall man staggered. Somehow he regained his balance and
spun away, clutching his side, and managed to make his way up a ladder to the
deck above. His voice floated back to them.
"Don't think you've beaten me! I'll get you, Webb. And
your little lieutenant commander, too!"
"I've got to stop him!" Clayton attempted to
rise, to take a step, but his leg gave out from under him, and he fell to the
deck with a stifled groan.
"You can't, Clay! Your leg!" Harm could see
Clayton was gallantly trying to conceal his pain from him. "I'll get him!"
"Harm! NO!"
"I must!"
"Oh, my dearest one! Yes, someone must stop Palmer!
Promise me you'll be careful! The man can't be trusted!"
Harm paused long enough to kiss his lover. "Please
tell me you forgive me, first?"
"Of course I forgive you, my darling! I could never
stay angry with you!"
"Clay!" One final press of lips, and then he
raced for the ladder, joy and happiness carrying him up the narrow stairs as if
there were wings on his heels.
However, when he reached the deck, he came to a shocked
halt. Clark Palmer, who should have been lying on the deck, bleeding out his
life's blood, was gone, nowhere to be seen!
Harm rushed to the railing, but he could see nothing in the
dark waters below.
"Well, damn!" He stamped his foot in annoyance.
"Harm! What's wrong, precious? Where did Palmer
go?" Somehow Clayton had managed to drag himself up the ladder. Harm
hurried to his injured lover.
"I don't know! I know I hit him! I had to have hit
him, but…"
"He was probably wearing Kevlar. He may be a
sociopath, but he isn't stupid."
"Clay!" Harm had never been so shocked. "You
almost sound as if you admire the man!"
"Admire him? No. But I do respect him. He knows his
job, and he does it." Clayton pushed his fingers through his hair, leaving
it disheveled, and Harm hurried to his side, thrusting thoughts of the DSD agent
from his mind.
"You're so injured, Clay."
"I'll be all right, muffin." But he sagged, and
Harm caught him before he collapsed to the deck.
"Sweetheart!" He pulled out his cell phone with
one hand and dialed
"No, beloved. There was a mole in the Company, and it
was through Paul Candella's doings that Palmer knew where to find me."
"Oh, I'm so glad it wasn't my fault! And I'm sorry I
was such a prima donna, Clay. I'll be better, I promise, and won't tease you to
tell me things I shouldn't know."
"I can tell you now, my precious one."
The two men settled themselves against the bulkhead, and
Clayton began to tell his lover what had gone down.
"A superconductor was created by Akira Yamamoto, a
Japanese scientist who'd been working for the Bradenhurst Corporation. It
was so high tech, so super, that it
was guaranteed to outclass everything the scientific community had come up with
to date."
"Bradenhurst, Clay? Oh, no!"
Clayton nodded. "Unfortunately, he didn't realize
until almost too late that working for Bradenhurst was the same thing as working
for the DSD, and that once the final tests were run and word of the
superconductor got out, a bloodbath would ensue for possession of it. Frantic
and terrified, he put the prototype into his brief case and ran, eventually
calling the CIA for help."
"And so you were assigned to the mission? Oh,
Clay, I'm so proud of you!"
"Ah, my dearest one, I am proud of you! You
shot at Clark Palmer in an attempt to defend me!"
Harm blushed at his lover's praise. "You're my… my
best beloved! And I understand completely why you couldn't give that awful Clark
Palmer the superconductor, even if it meant he'd shoot me."
"As to that, sweetness, the superconductor was a total
failure. That was the real reason behind Yamamoto's fear."
Harm's eyes lit with comprehension. "So once the DSD
learned that all the money that had been poured into the project was for
nothing, that the bits and pieces of wire and metal and plastic didn't do a
thing, except maybe go ta-pocketa-pocketa, Yamamoto knew he was a dead
man."
"That's one way of putting it." Clayton started
to chuckle, then winced and gripped his leg, and Harm could see the wound was
causing him severe pain. The still night air was ruptured by the wail of an
ambulance siren. "That's my ride. Will you go with me to the hospital,
Harm?"
"Oh, Clay, I'll go anywhere with you!"
Clayton touched Harm's cheek with tender fingers, the
gesture so loving that Harm felt his eyes fill with tears. He turned his face to
press a kiss into the palm of his lover's hand, and together they waited for the
~End~
