Exception
by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)
JAG
Clayton Webb/Harmon Rabb
Rating: adult
Webb and Rabb end up together in a shack somewhere in Canada.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story. If I did, the show would be a lot different, let me tell you. *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.
Notes: This would take place sometime after "Webb of Lies", but before "Wilderness of Mirrors".
This was inspired by 101 Ways To End Up In A Canadian Shack, a wonderful site with cool short stories, 500 words or so, found at http://www.trickster.org/speranza/ShackedUp.html . Hats off to them. I kept my story to 876 words. Not bad, considering it's got Rabb, who's a talker.
Thanks to Tinnean for encouragement and a wonderfully speedy beta and to Greg for the idea. He's evil. No wonder I love him so. :-)
*****
Rabb pushed open the door of the shack and stared at the gun the man inside was pointing at him.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Clayton Webb stowed the gun in his pants, picked up a log from the pile, and positioned it in the fireplace. "Shut the door."
"Webb? Answer me!" Rabb's stare deepened into a glare.
"The door." Webb waited until Rabb shut it. "I could ask you the same question, but I suspect I already know the answer. Well?"
Rabb took off his hat and gloves, brushed the snow off onto the floor, stuffed them into a pocket, and crossed his arms. "You first."
"Jesus, Rabb, you're almost paranoid enough to work for the Company. Clark Palmer. He was seen in Ottawa two days ago, and the trail led here. Someone was here as recently as this morning. The logs were banked."
Rabb uncrossed his arms. "Did you look around?"
"Yes, Rabb, I looked around and found a gun, a stash of ammo, and a file on what I think is his next target. But go ahead and play secret agent if it'll make you feel better."
"I got here, didn't I? I'm not playing anything." Webb shrugged, but said nothing, and Rabb, after another glare, decided to drop it. "Let me see the file."
Webb nodded to the ramshackle table in the middle of the room. "Go ahead."
Rabb crossed to the table and flipped the file open. "Arms dealer. Wonder why Palmer's after him."
"Probably someone who's screwed over the DSD. Or Palmer."
Rabb grinned.
"Want to share the joke?"
"Just the thought of someone..." He coughed. "Never mind."
"Some guy screwing Palmer?" There was a little smile on Webb's face. "Yes, the visual is appealing."
Rabb couldn't take his eyes off Webb. He'd said that? "You've thought about a guy and Palmer?"
"You brought it up." Webb went over to the small window by the door, rubbed off the frost on one pane, and put his face up to the glass. "It'll be dark soon. You need to decide if you're staying or going."
Rabb wasn't ready to let that go. "You've thought about a guy and Palmer?"
Webb walked over to the fireplace and spread his hands to warm them. "Yes."
"You like guys?"
"I'm not going to discuss that with you. My private life is that: private."
"Tell me what you thought about Palmer."
"I've had some daydreams about Palmer getting screwed by some guy in prison. All right? Now, drop it."
"Have you had daydreams about me?"
Webb turned and glared at him. "Jesus, Rabb! What part of 'drop it' didn't you understand?"
"Have you? I want to know."
"You're something else. No, Rabb. No daydreams about you. You can relax." Webb went back over to the window. "Are you staying or going?"
Rabb left the folder open on the table and walked over to stand behind Webb, who was now facing him. "C'mon, Webb, admit it. You've had dreams about me."
"Of course. Everybody wants you." Webb laughed shortly. "Well, Harm, I'm an exception. You'll survive."
"Like hell you don't." Rabb grabbed Webb's arm and shoved him against the wall, then pressed his thigh against Webb's crotch. "Or are you going to tell me you're hard for Palmer?"
"Have you lost your mind?" Webb struggled against Rabb. "Let me go."
"You want me," Rabb whispered, and, ignoring Webb's continued struggles, bent his head and kissed him. When he broke the kiss, he was smiling. "Nice, Webb."
Webb was flushed, but still glaring. "Let me go." He brought up his knee, but Rabb blocked it. "Goddammit, Rabb, this is one of the craziest things you've done."
"You kissed me back."
"Let. Me. Go." Rabb shrugged and stepped back, and Webb glared and headed back to the fire. "Don't do that again."
"You sure of that?"
Webb didn't answer, and Rabb grinned to himself and leaned against the wall. Webb looked good flushed and annoyed. He wasn't leaving. It could be fun, doing it with Webb. He'd had daydreams about the CIA agent.
"How did you find your way here, Rabb?"
"Message from this guy I talked to a while back who has some ties to the DSD. He said Palmer told him he felt like getting away to some cabin, and he'd found it for me."
"Just like that."
"Yeah."
Webb frowned. "Odd. Send me the message when we get back. I want to look into this person."
Rabb nodded. Webb would grab at anything to avoid dealing with wanting him. Whatever.
*****
In a bar somewhere in Canada, Clark Palmer clicked off his phone. So Rabb had made it. Well, he'd made sure it was an obvious trail. Webb's had been more subtle. Webb had a brain. Rabb had a brain cell.
Two guys in a shack, all alone and on edge, and Rabb had already made the first move. He wondered if they'd find the condoms and lube he'd left. No way they'd find the bug, unless they broke the bed. He grinned. Well, maybe they would.
He stood and left a ten on the bar. Time to meet Krycek. Maybe this time he'd want something other than information on alien shit.
The End
Posted 1/11/02
