Title: Peace

Author: Gail

Fandom: JAG

Pairing: Clayton Webb/Clark Palmer

Rating: R

Summary: Clayton Webb makes his peace with his memories of David Stoner, and Clark Palmer remembers what really happened.

Archive: yes to Jagslash, Querstrich, RSA, CKOS, WWOMB. All others, please ask.

Email: gem225@hotmail.com

Series: Part 10 of the Eclipse series

Web Page: Mareen's Den, at: http://www.fortunecity.de/lindenpark/vogelweide/216/main.htm

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. I wasn't smart enough to think of them first. So all I can do is borrow them. Star Wars is the property of George Lucas, and it's just a quick reference.

This is the end of this series, really, unless Katja or Alex or Tinn make me write some more to fill in the gaps, and I reserve the right to write a lot of PWPs with these guys.

Thank you to Tinnean and Alex, who read this and told me to post it, and to Mareen, who read the flashback and told me it worked.

Sorry, no sex in this part, but it needed to be written.

The first part is set during my story "Getting his hands dirty"; the second is the day after Part 9, Palmer's pov.

Eclipse 10: Peace
by Gail
*************

Palmer saw Stoner glance around the room at the still bodies. "Don't worry about them. They'll be dead soon, if they're not already. And you're next. What would you like me to tell Webb? Anything? I'll make sure he gets the message."

Stoner's face was white. "Webb sent you."

Palmer smiled. This was fun, and what Stoner deserved. "You betrayed him. What did you think he'd do?"

"You're a discredit to the Company."

"Thank you. Coming from you, that means a lot." He sighted his gun, eyes glittering. "Come on, David, last chance. Webb told me to make it quick."

"Tell him I'm sorry I let him down. That I was going to go with him when he came back."

"You're lying, but I expected you to. He'll get the message."

"Let me do it."

Palmer froze, but only for a moment. "What?"

"I failed Webb and the Company. Let me kill myself. I deserve to die."

Palmer gave him a long look. "Well, this is interesting. You think I'm going to trust you with a gun?"

"Then please kill me." The man was begging. He'd done it. Stoner was broken, and justice was served. He let himself smile.

"I'll make it quick, David." He glided over to stand next to the other man. "Tell me when you're ready."

"Thank you," he heard David Stoner whisper, the thin body trembling. Then it stilled. "Please, now."

Palmer pulled the trigger with a cool skill, then stepped away as the body fell to the floor. He crouched down to check, but found no pulse, as he expected, then straightened and went into the bathroom to wash up and change. He'd called in the order for the food and specified the pickup time, and he needed to get going. Webb was waiting for him. Webb would never know it, but he'd just done the man a favor. Palmer shrugged. Webb needed to get over this hero-worship, but that was his problem.

He slipped out of the building and signaled the agent watching. The agent nodded and pulled out his phone. It was all going according to plan. Palmer's operations always did.

************

He's over at the grave, the traditional white lilies in his hand, head bent, and thank god, calm. I wasn't sure this was a good idea, but he was certain, and it's his life.

I watch him from beside the car. He needs to be alone to do this right, and even if he didn't, I don't need to go look at David Stoner's grave. Stoner and I said our goodbyes in a dingy room before blood poured out of his head. It's still a memory with its good points for me, but not one I'm going to bring up to Clayton. He doesn't need to know.

I know that he's found peace, know that this game of mine changed him, changed me, made us a team. It wasn't in the way that I'd thought it would be. I'd thought this would give me him in bed, give me some control over him at the CIA, and help me turn him into one of us. That way the DSD wouldn't really be gone, if I could get Clayton Webb to join our tradition.

I'd been watching too many Star Wars movies. Webb won't turn, won't abandon the tradition he grew up into. It would destroy him, and I won't allow that. So now I've joined with him. I've left Rabb to this Meg Austin, who won't put him through half as much hell as he deserves, let him have Webb the way he wanted him, let him keep his fucking career, but hell, I've got Clay and Rabb's got nothing now that I want. Rabb better not get any ideas about coming back for old- times' sake, because I will take action then. He had his chance, and he blew it. Webb is mine.

He's putting down the flowers now, and from the set of his body he's fighting tears. The only one I could mourn that way would be Clayton. It's going to be many years before that happens.

I wish I could tell him what really happened, wish I could hear him tell me that he understands that I was a different person then, that I might not make that same choice. That last one would be a lie. I'd kill Stoner all over again, since it got me here.

So I'll never tell him, and his ghosts will be able to rest, and mine? They don't bother me, as long as I have that warm and breathing body to lie next to.

He turns and walks over the short green grass over to me. I keep my face calm. I won't pretend for Clayton. I tell him all the truth I can. He deserves that from me.

"You didn't have to come," he says quietly. "I know you're glad he's dead."

He gives me so much.

"I'm sorry it hurts you," I say simply, not denying the truth he spoke.

"He didn't blame me." He's been saying that at odd moments since we talked. It's good that he knows that.

"He didn't." I make sure to catch his eyes so that he can see again that I'm being honest with him. "He never blamed you at all."

"Clark, could you have saved him?"

That's the first time for that one, and I don't say anything until we're both in the car. He puts the key in the ignition and waits.

"No, Clay," I say very quietly. "I couldn't have."

And it is the truth. David Stoner was dead before Clayton Webb and I ever came back to talk to him. I know that now. He'd given up. Clay would never give up. It didn't matter that I pulled the trigger. I have to believe that.

He nods and turns away from me for a moment, and I'm beginning to wonder if I should insist on driving when he turns the key.

Nothing ever goes as planned, I remember from a song a long time ago. Nothing ever does.

"Would you want him back?" That came out of nowhere.

He keeps his eyes on the road. "No. He would never understand me wanting you."

And with that, I know it's going to be all right.

The End