Title: Connections: The Interrogation

Author/pseudonym: Caroline Crane

Fandom: JAG

Paring: Rabb/Webb

Rating: PG13

Status: new

Archive: yes to list archives

Series/Sequel: part 3 of ? (Follows "Connections: The Crush")

Disclaimers: All hail Bellasario for creating such a slashy show for me to twist into something unrecognizable. I do it out of insanity, not for money.

Notes: More of the lighter side of Clayton Webb, as I like to think of this little foray into madness. I'm having a nervous breakdown so you'll have to cut me a little slack. Erik's the result of that, I'm fairly sure.

Summary: Clay does his best to get as much information about Erik's new internet friend out of Erik as he can without arousing any suspicion about his motives. For a spy he fails pretty miserably.

Warnings: Spoilers for "Answered Prayers"

Connections: The Interrogation
by Caroline Crane

Erik looked up when Clay sat back down again, one eyebrow arched as he let his gaze wander critically over the other man’s form. "Where did you disappear to? You’re missing the best part. I swear to you, Clayton, he’s completely over the bend for this guy. Kind of depressing, actually, so much for my chances. Oh well, maybe he needs someone to guide him out of the closet, help him learn the ropes before he’s ready for any sweeping declarations of love."

The irrational surge of jealousy hit Clay hard and he felt his jaw clench, biting down hard on the insides of his cheeks to keep from voicing the first thought that popped into his head. He took a deep breath and dug his fingers a little too hard into the leather chair arms, doing his best to make his expression completely blank. "I’m sure if he’s our age he doesn’t need you or anyone else helping him ‘learn the ropes’," Clay finally answered. "At least I should hope not."

"You never know, it’s amazing the pleasures people deny themselves," Erik said without looking back at Clay. "Take yourself, for instance."

"Oh no, we are not turning this into a criticism of my personal life," Clay snapped defensively. "Besides, you’re one to talk. Just…focus on your latest victim. What exactly makes you think he’s in love with this guy, anyway?"

"You could use a good, hard look at your personal life," Erik said, ignoring Clay’s bad mood. He was more than happy to let the subject of Clay’s love life drop for the moment, however, as long as he had a willing audience to mull over the details of his new friend’s heartache. "While you were off doing whatever it is that was so important he was telling me about their history. They’ve been colleagues for years, evidently, they don’t exactly work together but that just makes the whole thing more delicious. He never knows when he’s going to see Mr. Right, evidently he just turns up in the most unlikely places without warning."

A short laugh escaped Clay’s throat before he could stop it, and he hoped Erik wouldn’t catch the nervous edge infused with the laughter. "You make him sound like a stalker."

"Well after seven years I think we can safely rule out any murderous fantasies," Erik laughed. "Don’t be so dramatic, Clay. I happen to think it’s very romantic. Think of it, you’re just going along, living your life, pretending to be happy dating this girl or that girl. Then every so often this perfect man comes sweeping into your life and then right back out again without warning. Talk about your white knight complex."

"What makes you so sure he’s riding to the rescue?" Clay asked, suppressing another laugh at the thought of Erik’s face when he found out he was talking about Clay.

Erik sighed and looked over at his friend, frowning his disapproval at Clay’s obvious lack of romanticism. "That’s always been your problem, you know. You wouldn’t recognize true love if it pinched your ass and offered to buy you a drink."

"As lovely an image as that is, you’re hardly one to talk," Clay answered evenly. "How many times have you found ‘true love’ this month? Five? Or is it six now?"

"Can I help it if I’m just too intense for most men to handle?" Erik sniffed and turned back to the computer, pretending to be hurt for a few seconds before he got distracted by the chat room again. "You know I think I like our Flyboy better than I like you. He at least values my opinion."

Clay rolled his eyes as the screen name Harm had chosen finally sank through his brain. If he listened a little more closely to Erik he might have figured out who his friend was talking to the first night, but then again he had years of experience at filtering out most of what Erik said. It was rare that any of it was actually important enough to pay attention to, let alone remember. This, though, as unexpected as it was, was definitely worth taking note of. "And what fabulous advice did you give him that he’s so eager to take?" Clay asked, stifling a sigh at the thought of Erik actually talking Harm into leaving JAG and coming out. He’d been sure it wasn’t possible before he knew who Erik was talking to, but now he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that it wasn’t even a remote possibility.

"I told him that he should go to this man and tell him exactly how he feels. Then he should offer the only truly suitable repayment that he can for such a heartfelt gift." Erik smirked at the horror-stricken expression on Clay’s face, completely oblivious to the real reason the other man looked as though he was suddenly having trouble breathing. "Don’t look so shocked, Clay. It’s obvious they have feelings for each other, why should a little thing like a uniform stand in their way?"

Somehow Clay remembered how to breathe, drawing too much air into his lungs and nearly choking before he found his voice again. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"What?"

The shocked look in Erik’s eyes let Clay know just how close he was to losing it, maybe nobody else would have read anything into his sudden mood but his best friend knew him better than Clay wished he did most of the time. The last thing he needed was to have to explain to Erik how he knew who was on the other end of the chat room, let alone put up with the barrage of questions that would inevitably follow such a confession. There was no way he could explain why he’d done it, he still didn’t even know the answer himself. At the time it seemed like such a small gesture, but there was no way Erik would buy that Clay was just trying to make sure he had Harm in his pocket. Harm owing him had nothing to do with it, no matter how much he wanted to believe exactly that.

"The guy’s in the military, Erik," Clay finally answered, forcing his expression to remain blank, or at the very least only vaguely annoyed. "He can’t just assume this other guy’s got feelings for him. No matter what he did."

"Hopeless." Erik shook his head and let out a disgusted breath, his eyes glued to Clay’s face as he watched his friend rationalize away what had to be the most romantic thing he’d ever heard. "I swear to God, Clayton, you are beyond salvation. You’ll never find someone to settle down with if you keep that attitude. If he doesn’t take a chance how’s he ever going to know? Would you rather he marry this poor, pathetic woman that’s in love with him and ruin both their lives?"

Clay rolled his eyes and told himself he wasn’t pouting. "Why do you care so much? You don’t even know the guy, Erik."

"Neither do you," Erik reminded him in a quiet voice. "But that doesn’t mean we can’t try to help him sort out his little crisis. I’d hope someone would do the same for me if I was this lost."

"There but for the grace of God go I?" Clay quipped, a sarcastic grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he listened to Erik lecture him on romance. This was ridiculous, as far as his friend knew Clay had nothing to do with whatever was going on in his new friend’s head and if Clay played his cards right it would stay that way. He was a top agent for the CIA, for God’s sake. He could certainly get a little information out of his own friend without giving away anything. He let out a resigned sigh and relaxed into the chair, hoping Erik would just chalk it up to his usual mood and ignore him. "Fine, assuming this other guy does have feelings, does your new project feel obligated to him because of his brother? I mean he should be sure it’s not just some infatuation before he does something drastic."

Erik sniffed and deigned to glance over at him again, evidently mollified for the moment by the fact that Clay was willing to play along with his new hobby. "I’d say seven years of suffering in silence counts as a little more than infatuation."

"Okay, they’ve worked together on and off for seven years. And H…your friend’s been attracted to him all that time?"

"Please try to keep up, Clayton," Erik said, his eyes glued to the computer screen as he typed away. "Yes, I’ve already told you that. Poor boy, he hasn’t come right out and said it but from the way he’s talking I can tell he’s been smitten since day one. Even when they argue there are sparks."

"He said that?" Clay leaned unconsciously further forward, unreasonably pleased with the idea that Harm had been attracted to him since the first time they met. Even if he’d known for sure that Rabb was gay he never would have thought he’d be interested in Clay, but there it was in black and white.

Erik was nodding, an evil grin lighting up his features as he looked up at Clay. "Oh, he said it alright. Right there, he said, and I quote, ‘It’s just one of those things, you know? You’re minding your own business, trying to live your life and do your job, and then somebody comes along and every time you see them the floor drops out from under you for a minute. I’ve gotten pretty good at controlling it, at least I think I have. But no matter how hard I try to ignore it every time I see him there are sparks.’. Good God, even the way he talks about it is dripping with romance. I’m so saving this chat."

"Why?" Clay asked absently, his brain registering the last part of Erik’s statement on some level even though he was still stuck on the floor dropping out from under Harm. There was a time when that image would have amused him to no end, but now it made him smile for an entirely different reason.

"Are you kidding me? Research, my friend. This would make such a lovely romance novel, I’d be the talk of the gay press." Something like a giggle escaped Erik’s throat and Clay smiled in spite of himself. Part of him almost wanted to tell his friend the truth now, just to see Erik’s reaction when he found out who he was talking to. He couldn’t risk it, though, he shouldn’t even be letting Erik carry on his conversation with Harm at all. If he was smart he’d wander out into the kitchen for another glass of wine and ‘accidentally’ blow a fuse or even cut the power completely. It was too much, though, his brain was on overdrive at the thought of Harmon Rabb confusing himself over Clay.

"Good idea," Clay heard himself murmur, looking up and catching Erik’s bemused expression. "What? At least writing a novel would keep you out of trouble for awhile. Although you better be careful, don’t want to get sued for cribbing from someone’s real life heartbreak."

"I’m sure you could find me a good lawyer if I did," Erik said, his eyebrows raising as he watched Clay choke.

Somehow Clay managed to cover his reaction with a cough, but he could feel Erik’s eyes on him as he bent over and tried to catch his breath. There was no way Erik could know that Harm was a lawyer, let alone that he was the man on the other end of the chat room. Unless that moron Rabb actually told Erik the name of the man that got his brother out of prison and into the country…he stifled a groan as he realized that Harm was naïve enough to do something like that.

"So did he say what he does for a living?" Clay asked, doing his best not to sound too interested.

"I knew there was something I forgot to ask," Erik said, rolling his eyes at himself this time. "Not that it really matters, I mean what do those military boys really do but play war games and get all dirty together? Not that I’d mind donating tax dollars for a front row seat."

Clay laughed again, willing his heart to stop beating so hard against his ribcage. He was sure Erik was going to hear it, then his friend would know for sure that something was up. He had to admit that the image of Harm playing war games or climbing into the cockpit of a Tomcat was appealing, though. The thought of Harm in his flight suit alone was enough to make Clay shift uncomfortably in his chair, thankful suddenly that he hadn’t changed out of his loose work slacks. "Working for the government has its advantages."

Erik snorted appreciatively and glanced over at the other man in time to catch Clay squirming in his chair. "I’m sure it does. The real question is what our white knight does for a living, though. I mean it must take quite a bit of power to get a prisoner out of a war-torn country and into the United States. I’m sure you could do it, but then you’re a super spy."

Damn, had Harm actually told Erik his name? If he had Clay was definitely going to have to do some covering, there was no way he was leaving even the faintest electronic trace of that chat out there for just anyone to find. There was no telling with Erik whether or not he was just talking or if he was hinting around about something, though, and Clay’s best bet was just to play along and hope Erik got bored with the game first. "It probably wouldn’t be that hard," Clay answered reasonably. "I mean anybody with diplomatic ties could pull it off. Just call in a few favors, everybody always owes somebody in foreign affairs."

"Well maybe he’s in love with a Congressional aide or something," Erik said, shrugging as though Clay’s explanation was completely plausible. "No telling with the weirdos in this town."

"I thought this was the most romantic story you’d ever heard. Now they’re a couple of weirdos?"

Erik chuckled and glanced over at Clay again, his expression frustratingly unreadable. "Now did I say that? I’m just saying there’s no telling with the politicians crawling all over the place. Like that…what was he again? A speech writer? That funny little man that hung around you all summer, what a character he was."

"Don’t remind me." Clay groaned at the memory and did his best not to think about that particular relationship. Not that he could really call it a relationship so much as a handful of awkward dates that he’d been cajoled into by a mutual friend. Since then he’d taken a long, long break from dating, telling himself and anyone else that asked that he was too busy with work to bother with a personal life.

"Sorry," Erik answered, although his expression told Clay that he wasn’t feeling apologetic in the least. In fact, if Clay didn’t know better he’d swear Erik was up to something, the only question was what. If Erik knew it was Clay Harm was describing he would have said something by now, he was notoriously bad at keeping secrets. Then again he might just be hurt enough that Clay hadn’t told him about Rabb that he’d think up some sort of punishment meant to humiliate Clay when he least expected it. He definitely needed to get a look at that chat transcript, it was the only way he’d know for sure what Erik was up to.

"So I take it the plans to date the woman at the office are officially off?" Clay asked, holding his breath as he waited for an answer. It was ridiculous that he’d be jealous of the thought of Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie together, but he couldn’t deny that the idea bothered him. At the very least it wasn’t fair to Mac, she’d already cancelled a wedding on account of Rabb stringing her along and the last thing she needed was for him to give her more false hope.

When he looked up again Erik was looking over at him, and Clay shivered involuntarily as he realized that Erik knew something. What it was Clay couldn’t tell for sure, but his friend definitely thought he had something on him. "You’d think you’d have more faith in me after all these years," Erik said, and Clay found himself wondering if his friend meant faith in his ability to talk Harm out of dating Mac or if he was upset that Clay hadn’t trusted him with his crush. "That idea’s long gone, he’s as much as admitted that he hasn’t got any interest in her. He claims that his bad habit of flirting keeps getting him into these situations, but I have a feeling he’s compensating for the fact that he’s been nursing a broken heart for so long."

It surprised Clay that the thought of Harm heartbroken would bother him, he wasn’t supposed to care how Rabb felt about anything. Then again, if he really didn’t care what the man thought he wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of getting Sergei out of prison. A sigh escaped his throat before he could stop it and he steeled himself against a sudden surge of sadness, telling himself he wasn’t going to let his emotions get all wrapped up in Harm’s confusion. No matter what Rabb told Erik the fact remained that he was still in the Navy, and they still had to work together. "I’m sure he’s not heartbroken," Clay shot back a little too defensively. "He’s a grown man, for God’s sake. If he wanted to do something about it he would have done it by now."

"Hmm, sounds like someone needs to take their own advice," Erik muttered half to himself. Before Clay had a chance to respond he swung his legs off the desk and set the laptop down on the top of the desk. "Oops, our friend has to go. Late dinner with his little brother, isn’t that sweet?"

"Adorable," Clay muttered, his forehead furrowed as he wondered what Erik meant by taking his own advice. It wasn’t like he went around pining for unavailable men, well at least not usually. He’d managed to keep his attraction to Rabb under control for a long time now, in fact until tonight he was fairly sure that even his best friend didn’t have a clue. The only problem was that now that he knew how Harm felt everything had changed, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair as Erik saved the chat transcript and stood up, his hands on his hips as he looked down at Clay.

"You’re so cute when you’re pathetic," Erik said, smiling fondly when Clay looked up to glare at him. "Come on, I’ll buy you dinner and you can tell me all about this crush of yours. And don’t bother trying to deny it because I know you too well, Clayton Webb." Before Clay could even argue or protest that he was too tired for dinner he found himself being dragged to his feet, then they were moving toward the front door and he decided it wasn’t worth trying to fight. When Erik set his mind on something there was pretty much nothing he could do but go along for the ride, and that included whatever information his friend was planning to get out of him over dinner.

The End