Lights
by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)
JAG
Clayton Webb/Mic Brumby
Rating: adult
Clayton Webb finds some amusement in Australia. (Why, yes, it is all about Webb, and Palmer, but he's not in this one, as far as I know.) A missing scene from Boomerang.
Disclaimer: The JAG characters belong to Belisarius Productions and CBS, not me.
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.
Spoilers: Boomerang, Legacy.
Scarlet, Page, and Tinnean all wanted more Webb/Brumby slash. Scarlet and Page came up with the idea for this story, Scarlet found a couple of things that needed to be changed after the gemstories posting, and Tinnean, bless her heart, beta'd. I thank them all. But if Palmer in Eclipse isn't happy with this, it's my fault. He gets a little possessive of his Clay, as I know very well. *g*
*****
I sip my scotch and watch the men in the bar. Australians are damned good-looking, and I'm glad to have some time to appreciate them. This place is one of the safer gay bars to cruise in Sydney. I'd know; I've checked them all. It should be easy to find someone for some uncomplicated sex, but I'm in no hurry. It's good to relax.
I'm about ready to order another drink when a familiar face comes in: Lt. Commander Mic Brumby, the man who's competing with Harmon Rabb for Sarah MacKenzie, and might even be winning for all I know. I can tell that he's looking for company from the way he's scanning the room. It wouldn't be smart to let him find me, but he's attractive, and I'd like to find out what he's like in bed. And I think I know a way to do that.
I call over the waiter and order another scotch, then tell him to make sure Brumby gets whatever he wants, my treat, and give him a message for Brumby, that I'm interested. He'll know what I mean. I watch as the waiter talks to him. The money I gave the waiter should ensure he doesn't tell him who I am, and it does. I can tell Brumby asks, but he doesn't get the answer he wants. He takes the pint, and after a few minutes the waiter comes back.
"He says he'll think about it," he reports and sets down my drink.
I nod. "That's fine. His next drink is on me, too." And as many more as it takes, but I don't say that. I know enough about Mic Brumby to be reasonably sure that someone taking this much of an interest in him will be welcome. If he's here, it must mean she's with Rabb, and that can't be good news in his opinion. That, however, is good news for me.
A few men approach Brumby, but he sends them away. Good.
The waiter comes back over. "He says he wants to meet you. I told him you were cute," he adds with a wink, and I smile.
"Thank you." I take out my pen, take a fresh napkin from the waiter's tray, and write. When I'm through, I fold the napkin in half. "Give him this."
"Sure."
I watch as the waiter hands Brumby the napkin. Brumby opens it and reads, then stares at it, then lifts his head. I can read his lips as he answers the waiter.
Yes.
I shift to ease my hard cock.
*****
I wait for him in the dark in my room. It's not in my name, so even if Brumby decides to ask questions, he won't learn anything. I don't think he'll ask.
I told him that the door would be open, and to come in, and he does, shutting the door behind him.
"Hello." His voice is strained.
"Hi." I know how to disguise my voice. "I'm not here to talk. Are you?"
"No."
"Then come here." The room is fully dark now, the curtains drawn and fastened, no light coming in from under the door. I'm safe now.
He takes a few steps. I can see the movement, although nothing else. "Why the secrecy, mate?"
I smile to myself. "Married." To my job, but that's not his business.
He doesn't say anything to that. He takes some more steps and comes within range, and I grab him, pull him to me, and press my mouth to the first skin I can find, his cheek. He doesn't fight me, and I get his mouth with the next kiss. It opens under mine, and I slide my tongue in. He tastes like beer, of course, not my favorite flavor, but right now I don't care. This is what I need. Sex in the darkness, sex with a man, sex with someone who'll never know it's me.
I find his top button with my fingers and undo it, and he gets the hint and undoes mine, and we strip off our own and each other's clothes roughly and quickly, touching skin and hair and cocks. It's going to be fast. I'm not in the mood to take my time, and he's going to go along with me, because I'll make him. I'm the one who knows what's going on.
I pull him down to the bed and find his cock with one hand while the other presses him against me. His hand shapes my cock and works it while I'm working his, and he initiates the kiss this time, rough and hungry and open-mouthed. Good. I want this rough and fast and passionate.
He tears his mouth away when he spurts, and the name that comes out is 'Sarah'. I'm not surprised. I come right after him, in silence, as I always do. It's another kind of darkness.
"My girl," he says after a few minutes of the two of us breathing.
"I'm sure she's a fine one." I sit up and feel for the box of tissues, then take some for myself before handing him the box. "No offense, but we're through here."
"No problem. I'll get my clothes on and go." But he doesn't move. "I'd like to see your face."
"Out of the question."
He doesn't say anything to that, just reaches down and fumbles for his clothes. I find my shirt and pants and put them on, even though I'll shower when he goes.
"I can almost see you," he says when he's finished.
"But you can't."
He's silent a few more breaths. "No. I can't. But you've seen me."
"I promise not to out you," I say dryly. "Go."
He stands and heads toward the door. I move to the far side of the bed so that the light from the hall won't hit me. I unplugged all the lights and took out the bulbs of the ones I couldn't unscrew, so flipping any switch he finds will do nothing.
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye," I echo. It will be interesting if I see him again.
He opens the door and is out without a look back.
*****
The next morning, there's a note for me at the hotel desk:
*If you change your mind about lights, call.*
His number's at the bottom.
I pocket the note and smile to myself, then head out for breakfast and another meeting. Nice to know he wants me that much, but it's out of the question.
*****
Eight months later, I stand in Colonel MacKenzie's apartment and give Mic Brumby, who's acting as though I'm the enemy, a cool smile as he says that he didn't see me in Australia. That's right, he didn't. I made sure of it.
"I didn't say you saw me."
He doesn't like that, but he has no idea why I'm smiling.
The End
Posted 3/9/02
