Working for Webb
by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)
JAG
Clayton Webb/Harmon Rabb
Rating: adult
Harmon Rabb and Clayton Webb go to a gay bar as part of an undercover operation. Stuff happens.
Disclaimer: Neither Clayton Webb nor Harmon Rabb nor Sarah MacKenzie nor Allen Blaisdell belong to me. The bartender and the guy in the bar do. Hm. Nice thought. :-)
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 for A Tangled Webb, A Tangled Webb Part II, and Shifting Sands, and possibly any Webb episode which has come before.
For my dear Scarlet, because she works too hard, and for Seema, who thought that Rabb and Webb should talk about Mac and wanted me to write it. Thanks to Tinnean for betaing and to the wonderful folks who commented in my LiveJournal on the rough beginning.
*****
"You've got to be kidding. There's no way - I'm not - I don't work for you!" Harmon Rabb folded his arms and glared at Clayton Webb.
He'd thought he'd made that clear when he agreed to fly for the CIA. No working for Clayton Webb. No working with Clayton Webb. No contact with Clayton Webb at any time. And now he was in Clayton Webb's office and Webb was giving him an assignment.
"You work for the Company now. You do what they tell you to do."
"And they want me to go undercover with you."
"Yes."
"To a gay bar."
"The Stallion. I need to blend in."
"And you need *me* to do that."
"Yes."
What right did Webb have to look so unconcerned about this? And what about Mac?
"Does Mac know about this?"
Webb shot him a look with annoyance in it. "Sarah has no need to know, and I'd appreciate you leaving her out of this."
Rabb unfolded his arms and grinned. "Trouble in paradise, Clay? She seeing how much of a secretive bastard you can really be?"
"Shut up, Rabb. You're no one to talk. You had your chances with her and you blew them all."
Webb was talking through his hat. Whatever was going on with him and Mac, it wouldn't last. "What would she think about you going to a gay bar?"
"I imagine she'd understand that I didn't do it for pleasure. She and I have... an understanding."
Goddamm him and his smugness. But Webb didn't look smug, he just looked tired.
"Fine." Someday he'd have to talk to Mac again, get things sorted out. No way should she be with Clayton Webb. "So how will I help you fit in?"
"We'll go separately. Then I'll find you, pick you up, and we'll leave."
What? Oh, no, no, no. "You want me to let you pick me up. Are you crazy?"
"I've been there before. If I don't find someone to go home with this time, I'll stand out. I've researched this thoroughly."
Webb had the most reasonable look on his face, as though he were making sense. But he wasn't.
"Why not meet your informant somewhere else?" Rabb gave Webb a triumphant look. So much for Webb being a brain.
"It's out of the question. Listen, Rabb, this man has given me information that has saved lives, and I'm not going to put him in danger."
"Or yourself."
"Or myself. Someday I hope you figure out how the intelligence business works, or you're going to get yourself killed, which will probably happen regardless, considering your past record."
"Shut up, Webb. Let's get this over with."
"Fine." Webb handed Rabb a small piece of paper. "Here's the address. I'm safe in assuming you haven't gone there before?"
Rabb glared at him. "Right." He stuffed the piece of paper into his pocket.
"Try not to get picked up by anyone else, if it's not too much trouble."
Rabb's hands balled into fists. "Webb, if you don't want your nose broken again - "
Webb held up a hand. "I don't. Let me retract that last remark."
"All right." Rabb made himself relax. They'd go to this bar, Webb would get his information, and they'd leave. "So you'll buy me a drink, we'll pretend to talk for a minute or two, and we'll get out of there."
"That should work."
"Good. I'll see you there." Rabb checked his watch. Quarter past seven. "When do you meet your informant?"
"Sometime between eight-thirty and nine. Get some dinner and be there by quarter past eight."
"What am I supposed to do, hang around there?"
"Yes. I suggest staying near the bar so that I can find you." Webb's mouth twitched. "And look... available. We can't have anyone thinking you don't want to be there, can we?"
Rabb turned on his heel and strode out of Webb's office.
Someday he was going to break Webb's nose, and if Webb was lucky, that would be all he'd break.
*****
At least the Stallion wasn't smoky. It was, however, expensive. Rabb kept mental track of how much he was spending on Cokes with a twist of lime, in an imitation of a Cuba Libre - he wasn't going to drink here of all places - and worked to keep his place at the bar. He didn't need to look available. By being there, he was assumed to be interested in anything and everything. He hadn't gotten his first Coke when he got his first offer, and more came thick and fast. He turned them down, forcing the smiles, and was glad that he didn't see anyone he knew.
He put down his empty glass, caught the bartender's eyes, and nodded at the empty.
"Hey, handsome."
Great. Another one. Rabb turned to give the man a polite smile. "Hey."
The man, who was taller than Rabb and bulkier, too, licked his lips and leaned over. "You've been here a while. Can't find the right guy?"
Rabb opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, a cool, authoritative voice said, "He's with me."
It was Webb. Finally.
Rabb felt Webb's arm slide around his waist, then jumped as fingers that had to be Webb's stroked his ass.
"He could be with me."
Webb turned his head and licked the hollow of Rabb's throat. "Maybe another night."
That was *Clayton Webb* licking him. Clayton fucking Webb. What the hell business did Webb have doing that? Couldn't he find a better way to handle this?
The guy didn't move. "Come on, handsome, you'll have a better time with me."
Rabb took a deep breath and made himself smile. He was going to kill Webb for putting him into this situation. "I'm with him. Try me another night." He would never set foot in this bar again.
"You must have something."
Webb smiled at the guy. "Sorry, I'm not interested in showing you. Try *me* another night."
The guy shrugged and turned away, then made his way into the crowd.
"Get your arm off me."
Webb shifted closer. "This is part of our cover."
"Why can't we leave?"
"After I'm sure that my informant's left, we can. But until then, you're going to have to play along." The bartender put down a fresh drink in front of Rabb, and Webb put down a twenty. "I'll have what he's having."
The bartender nodded, picked up the twenty, and turned away.
"What are you drinking?"
"Coke on the rocks, with the lime to make it look like a Cuba Libre. So you got what you needed?"
Webb pulled his drink over to him, smiled at the bartender, and squeezed in some lime. His arm was still around Rabb, and Rabb realized that it didn't feel as... awkward as it had before. Still it'd be good when Webb stopped playing his date.
"Not much this time, but I think after I check over some other intel it'll come together. Every little bit helps."
Webb lifted his drink to his lips, and Rabb squeezed lime into his and took a sip. He'd be glad never to have another fake Cuba Libre again, he thought, and grinned.
Then he froze. What the hell? He was hard. When had that happened?
"We can leave if you want," Webb murmured, and Rabb felt a shiver run through his body at the feel of the warm breath against his ear.
"Let's finish the drinks." That would give him time to think about calming things, like... he couldn't think of any. "What did you have for dinner?" Maybe talking about something else would help.
"I picked up a hamburger. I should have had something more. You?"
"A couple of tacos."
"If we were going home together, I'd offer to make you something - but we're not, so I won't bother."
Dammit. The thought of going home with Webb wasn't helping. This had to be the fault of the bar. If he wasn't in here, with guys coming on to him and all the gay thoughts, he'd be fine. Or maybe it was the simple fact of a warm body next to his. Yeah, that was more likely.
Rabb drained his glass. "Come on."
Webb chuckled. "Impatient."
Rabb scowled at him. "Come *on*."
Webb pushed his glass away and picked up some of the bills the bartender had left. "Yes, dear."
Webb had the damnedest sense of humor.
*****
When they'd gotten out of the bar, Rabb pulled out of Webb's embrace. If Webb dared to look at his crotch, he'd break his nose right there.
"You owe me for the drinks."
Webb reached for his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. "All right. How much?"
"Twenty."
Webb handed him a crisp twenty dollar bill, and Rabb stuffed it into his jeans pocket.
"I'll be sure to tell Blaisdell how helpful you were."
Rabb was sure he would. Fine, whatever. It was over with now. "Webb. Did you enjoy this?"
"I enjoyed getting the information, and I enjoyed making you uncomfortable."
"Thought so."
Rabb turned away.
"Harm?" He glanced back to see Webb giving him a serious look. "Thank you. I mean it. I know that couldn't have been easy for you."
"Yeah, well, next time, find someone else to grope." If he had his way, he'd be in another country when Webb needed to talk to that informant again.
"I thought we worked well together."
Rabb frowned. "Someone else."
He headed away from Webb.
"That'll be my call, not yours."
"Shut up, Webb."
Rabb clicked open the lock, opened the door, climbed in, slammed the door shut, jammed the key into the ignition, turned it, and checked the rearview mirror. Webb was standing there, watching him, but then he lifted his hand in a wave and turned away.
Rabb watched him walk for a few moments, then frowned. What the hell was he doing?
He pressed down on the accelerator and drove off.
He'd pick up some more tacos and eat them at home with a beer or two, take a shower, and get some sleep, and in the morning, he'd go to work at the CIA. Maybe he'd get to fly tomorrow.
The End
Posted 11/5/03
