China Patterns and Place Settings
by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)
JAG
Clayton Webb/Harmon Rabb (past), Clayton Webb/Clark Palmer
Rating: adult for language
Harmon Rabb needs someone to talk to about the wedding plans.
Sequel to Rabb Invades Langley and Saving Face (yes, both, since they're two different povs of the same events). Probably set a few months after those stories. (Hey, they don't tell me anything I don't need to know, and Clayton Webb has a very definite sense of 'need to know'.) Eclipse PWP/Snapshot #13.
Disclaimer: The JAG characters belong to Belisarius Productions and CBS, and the X-Files characters referred to belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, and FOX.
Sexy Disclaimer: If they belonged to me, they'd all wear leather and soft demin and t-shirts. No uniforms or suits, no matter how good they look in them. Bad Gail. *eg* All right, the JAG characters belong to Belisarius Productions and CBS, and the X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, but he doesn't play nicely with them at all. Then again, neither does Bellisario. Leaving my Palmer in Leavenworth, what a jerk. (There. I told you I'd say how rotten he was, Clark; will you stop bugging me now?) (yes, I am ruled by my characters, since you ask. *g*)
Please do not archive this story without asking me first. It's more than likely that I'll agree, but I want to know where my stories are.
Thanks to Elizabeth for the fast and helpful beta, and to Tinnean for her support and encouragement.
*****
I don't know how the hell I got here, but I know where I am: Clay's place. God, I hope he's home. I'm going to go out of my head if I don't see him. Meg was babbling about china patterns and place settings tonight, for Christ's sake. Place settings? And when she wasn't going on about that, she was talking about the wedding, that bright look on her face that I'm starting to hate. I love her, but I had to get away, and I did. I didn't even really think about where I was going, but I sure got here fast.
I haven't seen Clay since that time at the CIA when I found out damned Palmer was working there, too, but I've thought about him. He's stuck working with Palmer, showing him some kind of strange spook loyalty, that has to be what was going on there. I meant to call him, find out what was going on, but it got busy at JAG, and it was so good with Meg that I forgot. Now it's not so good, and I need to talk to him, and maybe more than talk. It can't hurt anything, and god knows Clay has to be lonely, whether he's got some other guy or not. His life doesn't leave any room for a lover. He probably hasn't had sex since our last time. Well, I can take care of that.
His car's there, good sign, so I ring the doorbell and wait.
The door opens, but it isn't the man I was expecting.
"Commander." It's Palmer, and his face gives me nothing. "Something you need from Mr. Webb?"
I don't know what the hell Palmer's doing here, but that's Clay's problem, not mine. "Yes." I'm not going to say anything about him answering the door. He's not important, not now. I need Clay.
Damn, I hate thinking that, but it's true, and I don't have any room for anything but truth right now. I'm too desperate. Marriage? Christ, I can't get married!
"I'll get him," Palmer says and leaves me waiting at the door.
I blink. Have to be calm until that bastard leaves. Does Clay bring his work home now? I've had Palmer in my place, and I'd never let him in again willingly. I lean against the doorframe until Clay shows up, cool and professional in one of those suits he always wears.
"Rabb. What is it?"
Palmer's behind him like some kind of guard. Like Palmer could be trusted to protect anyone. "I need to talk to you." I'm not going to say anything more with Palmer there.
I can see Clay's not thrilled to see me. He's got an annoyed look on his face. He'll get over it.
"About what?"
"It's personal." That's all I'm giving him now.
"Personal," Palmer's light voice comes. "That sounds important."
Why the hell would he care? "This is between Webb and me. Can I come in, at least?" I add to Clay, and he nods and steps back. Good, I'm in. I hope Palmer takes off soon. I can feel my control over my anger and desire slipping away.
"Palmer, give us a few minutes, please."
Why the hell is he asking Palmer permission to talk to me? But he is Clayton Webb, and he probably thinks of Palmer as a guest or something like that.
Palmer nods and turns away, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Clay turns to me.
"What is it, Rabb?"
"You used to call me Harm," I say, and I know it sounds like begging. This is insane, but I can't stop myself from doing it. "Can't you handle that?"
"All right, Harm. What is it?"
"Would you get rid of Palmer? I need to talk to you alone." I really need to talk. How long have I been ignoring this? Doesn't matter now. I'm here with him. It'll be all right.
He doesn't answer for a minute, and I wonder what the hell is with him. Probably finishing some thought about whatever CIA thing he and Palmer were working on before I got here. He can't be mad at me for getting married. He took it fine when I told him.
"I promise he won't disturb us for a few minutes. Tell me what's wrong."
Goddammit, I don't like how much better it makes me feel to hear him say that. I swallow. "Everything," I admit in a whisper. "Everything's wrong, Clay."
"You and Meg had a fight?"
If only we had. That I could deal with. I shake my head. "I can't marry her, Clay." I can't. It's wrong. I don't love her enough for that.
"What is it you want from me?"
I can't talk any more. I don't even care that Palmer's here. He'll go away. I need Clay, and I need him now. I step toward him. "I want you back." I get my arms around him before he can move.
"No, Harm." His voice is sharp, but I don't care. He feels so good. I'm not stopping. I know Clayton Webb. He wants me.
"Just relax." I'm almost at his lips, even though he's trying to get away. He'll stop soon. He has to.
"No." He breaks my hold with a couple of blows and is across the room before I can get him again. "Goddammit, Harm, you can't just come in and make a move on me."
Then Palmer's there. This is none of his business. Not that he'd care about that. "Problem." Not a question.
"No." Clay's glaring at him now. "I've got it under control."
"Funny, thought I heard someone say he wanted somebody else back. And I know it wasn't you saying it, Clay. Means it must have been you, Commander."
Palmer heard me. That was dumb. He can't find out about me and Clay. He'd use it against me. "You're hearing things, Palmer."
He laughs, and it's right out of one of my nightmares. How the hell could anyone think he's safe to let out of prison?
"Yeah? How about you, Webb? You hear someone say that?"
"There's nothing to worry about." Clay sounds firm. "Commander Rabb is leaving now."
Like hell I am. "You have to listen to me. You owe me that much. Palmer should leave."
Palmer stares at me, then he's laughing. "Yeah, right, Rabb, I'll leave." He gets himself under control. "Clay's house, so his rules, but I'd say you're the one who should leave."
Clay's standing very still. "Clark."
There's that command in Clay's voice, and Palmer's eyes fix on him. Interesting. Palmer actually listens to Clay? Good sign. Maybe Clay can get him to shut up about this.
"Go find a movie to watch, and watch it. When it's over, come find me."
Clay and Palmer stare at each other for a moment, then Palmer nods.
"As you say, sir."
Clay opens his mouth, then shuts it and nods instead. I look at Palmer and see that for a moment, he's smiling. Then he's gone.
Clay turns to me. "We'll talk in the kitchen." He's already moving toward it. "Would you like some coffee?"
"Thanks." I hear music coming from the living room, weird music. Eerie. Palmer must have picked a strange movie. I hope it's a long one.
Clay smiles. "Should have known he'd pick that show," he mutters, and I don't know what he's talking about. He pours beans into the grinder, then turns it on. I make sure to stay close to him. "Harm, sit down. I don't need you hovering."
For a moment, it's like we never stopped. We may have started in the kitchen, but it was never a place we managed to get along well after that. I smile and take a seat.
"We could talk in your bedroom. More private."
He doesn't even look at me. "I'm not going to bed with you, Harm. You need to know that right now. I will listen to you, and I hope that will help, but that's it."
"So why don't you send Palmer home?"
"I invited him over. I see no reason to make him leave because you're here."
"Why the hell did you do that?"
Clay's eyes are cool as he gives me a look, and I know what he's going to say. "I won't discuss that."
"I don't know why not," I try and grin. "I'm about to bare my soul to you."
He's still standing over by the coffee maker. "He's not the issue here. You said that you needed to talk. So talk."
Always direct. I nod and think of what to say. "I can't marry her." I know I've said that once, but it won't hurt to say again.
"Why not?" His voice has gentleness in it, and I remember how it felt to hold him in my arms when he was sleeping. That was the only time I felt all right about doing that. We were guys, and guys, even ones who were having sex, didn't do that. "Scared?"
He's the only one I'd let say that. I nod, and he blows out a long breath.
"That's normal, Harm. Why don't you tell me all that you're scared of, and then maybe it won't be so bad." He takes down mugs, pours coffee into them, and brings me one.
"Thanks." I try to smile at him, but I can't. Suddenly I'm close to tears. He's being nice to me, and I want more, and I don't know how to get that from him, and I need it so damned much. I don't want to talk; I want to fuck, to come, to lose myself in sex. That would be better than talking. I shift and feel my cock harden. How can I get him to change his mind? I used to be good at that.
He stops as he's coming back over. "Harm." There's warning in his voice. "I will throw you out if you come on to me again. We are not having sex. Is that clear?"
I swallow. "Yes," I whisper. I don't want to accept that, but I'm going to have to or leave, and I really don't want to leave. I can pretend it's all right here. Maybe I can even find a way out of this mess I got myself into.
He nods and pulls a chair over next to mine. "All right, then. Tell me what's so bad. Maybe I can fix it."
He really means that. I don't know if I deserve this, but I need it, I want it, and I'm going to have it.
"China patterns, Clay." It's not the best start, but he's looking at me, no smile, but that grave listening look I know well. "Bridesmaids' dresses, and who comes, and where they sit, and who the hell are all these people, and why do I have to give a damn about them? We have to look at houses, because my place isn't big enough. I like my place."
I stop. I can't say any more.
Clay takes a sip of his coffee. "A lot of things are going to change, aren't they? And you don't like change." Thank god his voice is still gentle. I nod. "The wedding will come and go. My advice is to let Meg do what she wants." He's got a smile on his face, and I can't help responding to that. "If she's anything like my mother, she will anyway, and it'll be less wear and tear on you."
He's probably right. "It's so stupid, Clay. Why does she want to get married? Other than kids, there's no point." He just keeps looking at me, and I stop. "She's really nice."
"I'm sure she is. Do you love her?"
This conversation turned all around, but I'm almost glad of it. I don't do well lying to Clayton Webb, and I need to know the truth right now. I nod.
He's still calm, and he's still focused on me. "The sex is all right?"
This is a really strange conversation. "Yeah. It's fine."
"Can you talk to her? When she's not making wedding plans, that is," he adds, and there's a twinkle in his eyes that makes me smile.
"Sure."
"I think you want to marry her."
I nod after a moment. I do, but I'm scared. I hate being scared. It would be easier to run away from Meg like I've run away from most other relationships, and I think from the gentle look in Clayton's eyes he knows what I'm thinking. Maybe this is why I came to him: to be convinced not to run away this time.
"All right, Harm, I want you to close your eyes and listen to me." I stare at him. "Close your eyes."
This is Clay. I trust him, so I do.
"You're sitting on the couch when you hear a yell for 'Daddy', and you know that's you. Then a little girl comes running over, with a little boy right after her, and she climbs up on your lap, throws her little arms around you, and starts sobbing out a tale of how her brother took her favorite doll and said he was going to bury it in the back yard. You've got your arm around her, and at the same time the little boy is talking about how it's just a stupid doll, and he didn't hurt it, he didn't do anything bad, and you know he's hurting, so you reach out with your other arm and hold him, too. Then Meg calls from the kitchen, 'Honey, is everything all right?' and you call back, 'I'll handle it.'" His voice is very soft. "How does it feel, Harm? Your own son and daughter, coming to you, your wife in the kitchen, and everyone's safe. The biggest thing you have to worry about is how you're going to settle this dispute about the doll, which will probably be as simple as getting them both some cookies and explaining to your daughter that boys say dumb things sometimes, then telling your son it's never safe to make fun of anything girls love."
I can feel myself smiling. "They love me," I whisper.
"Yes, Harm, they love you. And you'll keep them safe. You can do that. You want to do that. That's why you'll marry Meg, and that's why you'll be happy with her."
I open my eyes and see that he's leaning close to me. If I moved fast, I could kiss him, but I don't need to. "I can still come talk to you?"
"As long as it's just talk, yes, Harm. You can come talk to me."
"I'd like you to meet Meg."
There's a faint smile on his face as he straightens. "After the wedding, perhaps. I'm not up for long discussions about china patterns. That sounds as tedious as some of the meetings I have to sit through for State."
I smile back. This might be all right. The scene he painted is what I want. Then I think of something. "But they won't be young forever."
"That's true, but I think you'll find there's more joy to being a father than comforting little kids."
I notice he's not talking about the joys of being a husband, but then I'm not sure I care about those right now. "Thanks."
Clay glances over my shoulder. "Yes, Clark?"
I didn't hear anything. I turn and see Palmer standing there. He's got no expression on his face. "You two done yet? They're going to take Krycek's arm off," he adds to Clay, who sighs.
"Just fast-forward past it. It's a TV show. Why are you watching that one again?"
Palmer gives him a look that's full of exasperation. "I like Krycek. Anyone tries that on me, they'd regret it," he mutters, then looks at me. "How are you doing, Commander?"
"Better, thank you." Something's weird here. Clay seems awfully comfortable with Palmer in his house, and he knows just what he's talking about. Clay and Palmer, friends? I don't know if I get that one, but then I never get spook stuff.
"Clark, go back to the living room."
"Yeah, nobody cares about Krycek," he mutters and leaves.
Clay's got a harassed look on his face, but then I'd have one too if Palmer were over. He drinks more of his coffee and focuses back on me. "Is there anything else?"
I think, but I can't come up with anything. "Nothing. Thanks. If I need to talk again, I'll call first."
"I'd appreciate it. And Harm?" I look at him. "Don't invite me to the wedding."
"And I was hoping you'd find some way to make it into a national emergency," I joke, and after a moment he laughs, and I laugh with him. It's nice.
But there is one more thing. "How are you and that guy getting along? Are you still with him?" I still think he was lying to me about the other guy, but it's polite to ask.
He looks startled, then his face smooths. "We're still together."
He doesn't say anything more, but it doesn't surprise me. He's always Clayton Webb, who never says more than he has to.
"I hope you're happy." I know I don't sound like I mean that, but I do. Now, I mean. I wouldn't have before.
"Thank you. I am happy." He's got a smile on that looks pretty damned happy, but a little embarrassed, too.
"He isn't ashamed to be with you," I say quietly and wonder where that came from, except that I know when I let myself. I was ashamed of being with him. I had to be, because of the military's rules, but I would have been anyway.
Clay nods. "Not at all."
"And he doesn't mind what you do."
"No."
"I'd like to meet him."
Clay's shaking his head before I finish. "That's out of the question."
"Why?"
"I have a right to my privacy," he says, exasperated with me now, and I decide I'd better go.
"O.K. Didn't mean to piss you off."
He smiles suddenly. "You just can't say you're sorry, can you, Harm?"
"You're not so damned good at that yourself."
"No, I'm not."
We're both standing now, and I could kiss him, but he'd get touchy, and maybe this is better. I think it might be. I still want him. I don't think that's going to change, but I can't do anything about it now. Maybe once I'm married, I can come over, talk, and in time convince Clay that it would be fun to fool around sometimes. Nothing wrong with that. His other guy wouldn't have to know.
Then I take a look at Clay and realize I'm fooling myself. He's not going to do that. But I'll keep hoping.
"You're all right working with Palmer?" That's what I'm really amazed at. How can he be?
"He's a fine agent. He has changed, Harm. He's not going to go after you. I can promise you that."
"O.K." If he feels safe having Palmer unsupervised in his house, I guess I can trust his judgment. "But be careful, Clay."
"I'm always careful."
"Yeah." It's awkward now. "See you around."
"Yes." He's giving me one of the smiles I remember from mornings with him, and I feel really good. "See you around."
I nod and head out to the hall, Clay behind me. As I go by the living room, I glance in and see Palmer on the couch. I keep going. I've got nothing to say to him.
"Take care, Commander," I hear him call, and I look at Clay instead. He shrugs.
"He probably means it," he says in a low voice, and I just look at him. "He really has changed."
We're at the door now, and I open it. There's nothing more to say.
"Drive carefully."
"I will."
I make myself go out, and he shuts the door.
I didn't do what I thought I wanted, but I think I got something better than that. Now to go find Meg, maybe bring her some roses. She likes them. I'll see if she'd like to have lunch tomorrow, tell her that I want her to have the wedding she wants, and maybe that will help. I think it will.
Clay really helped me figure out what was going on. I wish I could find this guy he's seeing and tell him how lucky he is, but that's all right. Maybe he knows.
The End
Posted 7/12/01
To read the next Eclipse Snapshot, go to White clam sauce, but if you haven't read Presents, please go read it first.
