Title: Better than Leavenworth

Author: Gail

Fandom: JAG

Pairing: Clayton Webb/Clark Palmer

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Clark Palmer's point of view of his first days at the CIA.

Archive: yes to WWOMB.

Email: gem225@hotmail.com

Series: Part 5a of the Eclipse series.

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

Disclaimer: CBS and Belisarius Productions own these characters. I'm borrowing them again because I love them so much.

Spoilers: Webb of Lies

This is for Alex, who said that she'd like to read Palmer's POV of "New partner" if I cared to write it, and therefore gave me this idea, and because she does a really fast and happy beta.

It's also for Tinn, who loves Clark just about as much as I do, and writes about him. It is, however, still Katja's series.

Beta-read by Tinnean, Scarlet, and Alex, wonderful people who deserve much more praise than I can give here.

Please note that those are Clark Palmer's views on people who go to national parks, not mine.

Eclipse 5A: Better than Leavenworth
by Gail

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

I'd like to explore his office, but I know he'll be on time. Clayton Webb always is. That's why I made sure I was here early.

At least today I'll get to deal with him, not these damned CIA robots who look at me like I'm some kind of freak. Sure, I'm a freak, but what do they think they are? Perfect? Oh, that's right, they're in the Company, always have been. I'm the one who got caught, went to jail, and don't forget, belonged to their rival agency. I'd bet that none of them could make it in the Defense Security Division.

No, damn, have to stop that. There is no DSD any more. This is my new life, in the CIA, and I'm going to make it work.

Come on, Clay, hurry up. You're the only one I know here who sees who the fuck I am, not some cardboard figure. Let's see how you look after a night with Rabb. I caught that scene this morning, too. Leave it to Rabb to say right out loud he wants women still, and then drag you off to bed. The guy's seriously fucked up. Some day you'll figure that out. You're too smart not to.

I hear the door opening and stand. He's the one in charge here, the senior agent. I do know how to behave.

He gives me a look like he wasn't expecting me. Or was thinking of something else, like Rabb's smile. No, Clay, you're here now. Time to work. And today's work is me.

"Good morning, Mr. Webb. I'm supposed to give you this right away." I hold out my file to him, but he just stares at it. Not enough sleep? No, he looks fine. Better than fine, actually. But he's still not doing anything, so it's time to push a little. I'm good at pushing. "Come on, just take it. It won't bite."

Ah, that does it. His eyes go right to my neck, and he's remembering how it got that way. This could be more fun than I thought.

"Quiet, Palmer."

He takes the file and finally moves. I shift so that I'm not in his way. Don't want to upset him, although the thought of wiping out Rabb's kisses with mine is a nice one. New life, I remind myself. I have to be careful with the games here. Only a little, to keep myself amused. He's not going to like it if I get too pushy at the Company. That's not who Clayton Webb is, and I have to let him be that Clayton Webb here. I'll get the Clay I know later. But first I have to find out more about him. This is going to be great for that.

He's making me stand. Clay, I knew you'd be a fine dominant. But come on, let me off the hook here, unless you want me to jump you.

"Sit." His eyes are cool, but he's got a strange look on his face. I'd better make sure he doesn't go out looking like that. Don't want anyone else to know that something can get to him. He's my partner now. I have to protect him from all these assholes. If I do a good enough job, he'll protect me, too. Or at least that's how it worked in the DSD. It can't be that different here, although Candella was always bitching about Company politics and people out to get him. But that was Candella. Who the hell would want to look out for someone that dumb? But he's not a problem any more. He's dead of his own stupidity, and my intelligence.

"All right. You and I are going to be working together."

I smile, then wipe it. He's in charge, I remind myself. Don't fuck this up. "If that's what the Company thinks is best," is all I say. I want to tell him how happy I am to be working with him,
that I'll do whatever he says, that I'll be the best damned partner he could ever have...but that would be inappropriate. I do know that much about Clayton Webb.

"I'm looking forward to finding out how the CIA works. And to working with you, of course, Mr. Webb."

That much should be all right. But he's got another look on his face, like he's regretting ever getting out of bed this morning. I will do this, Clay. I'll show you.

"First thing you need to learn is that you have to go by the rules."

Of course he's worried about that. He remembers what I've done to Rabb, how I almost killed both of them on different occasions. I'm sure he thinks that I was going to kill him on that ship, but I wasn't going to. I was going to wound him, give me time to get away, make him think before coming after me again. I didn't want to shoot him, which is why I kept hesitating and got shot by damned Rabb instead. I was pretty dumb about Clayton Webb by that point. I'm a little smarter now, and glad that there isn't going to be any reason to shoot at Clay again.

"I understand, Mr. Webb." It feels strange to call him that. "I really don't want to end up in jail again. I can play by the rules." He has to believe that, and it is true. I can. I just don't like to. "Just don't ask me to work with Commander Rabb. That would not be a good idea."

He has to know that, but I want to be absolutely sure. Put me with Rabb, and I'm going to have fun. I won't be able to stop myself, especially now that he's sleeping with the man I intend to have for my own. I have to make sure I don't end up dealing with him at all. I've told myself to walk away if I see him, but I'm pretty sure I'll forget all about that if I do. But Clayton will help me with that. He doesn't want his Harm hurt. I don't want him hurt, either. I just want him gone.

Clayton's giving me a horrified stare, and I know he's thinking of the possibilities. I open my mouth to reassure him again, but then his phone goes off. We're both saved.

"Webb." His face changes again, and I know just who's on the other end. Rabb, of course, starting his games. Good luck, Commander. I play much better than you do.

As he talks to Rabb, his face gets more and more annoyed. Very good sign. He's also getting turned on from the way he's shifting in his chair, but he doesn't want to. Of course not. He's got me to deal with, and this is work. Harm's going to have to get that about him if he wants to keep Clay. But then I hope he doesn't. It would make my life easier.

He ends up telling Rabb to get back to work, very amusing, then hanging up on him, I think. I wish I could have heard both sides of that conversation.

"Commander Rabb?" Oh, I should leave this alone, but I can't. It's too perfect, Rabb calling with me here. "What did he want? Or is it personal?"

"Shut up, Palmer," he snaps back and I manage not to say any more. He is the senior agent. He can do what he wants.

Now he's just staring at me again. I look back, giving him my most attentive expression. He's eating it up. Clayton does like being in charge of me here.

"You'll need an office."

"I got that. I'm right down the hall." A nice office, if you like that sort of thing. I need to check it over and make sure that it doesn't have any bugs, but I can wait on that until I'm here a little longer. I'm pretty sure this office is safe, although I will check it out, too. Clayton's senior enough that they would not want to fuck with him.

Clayton looks lost for words, and more tired than he did when he came in. Time for me to make a move to help him. I don't want him to start resenting me any more than he already does. That would fuck up everything.

"Can I get you some coffee?" Not inspired, but it's something.

He starts. "What?"

Poor Clay. I really need to get out of here, so that you can get yourself back together. You don't like being this out of it. "I said, can I get you some coffee? You seem tired. Maybe that would help." I give him my best concerned look, not that I have to fake it. I am concerned. If having me here is going to screw with his professionalism this much, he's really going to turn on me. And we're supposed to be working together. Give it time, I remind myself. He's been through a lot lately. He's got to work it all out.

I don't like giving things time, even when I know I have to.

At least that works. "Coffee would be fine. Black." He doesn't know what to make of me offering, but he'll take it. Good.

"Sure." I get up and get out of there, making sure to close the door behind me. He needs privacy.

I head for the coffee, passing people and getting either quick glances or nothing. Whatever. Get over it, people. I'm here, and I'm not leaving.

The pot is empty, and I glare at it. Now I'm going to have to make a new pot. All right, I can do that. I get lucky and find the makings in the first cabinet I open, and get going. Dump the grounds, get a new filter, open the bag, dump in the new stuff, measure the water, pour it in, put it all together, hit the switch. Simple.

I stand there and watch it brew and feel my hands trembling. I glare at them, not that it helps too much. God, I'm as fucking nervous as when I started at the DSD. And there people were glad to have me. But this is the way it is now, and I'm going to have to deal with it. Clay's finding out that I can behave, and he'll learn more about how good I can be for him.

I see that the coffee's finished and grab a stryofoam cup. I'm going to have to see that he gets a mug. These things are stupid. I pour some, then drink it. Not bad when it's fresh. I get another cup for him, fill it and head back. He's had enough time, and I don't want him thinking that I'm goofing off.

He doesn't even notice when I come back in. He's still lost in thought, and the thoughts have to be about me. I put the cup down in front of him, and he's back.

"Sorry to take so long, but I waited for a fresh pot." Have to be sure I account for all my time with him.

I sit without waiting for him to tell me, reasoning that I've got implied permission, and he doesn't say anything to tell me otherwise. He works on the coffee and I wait.

"Palmer, I'm expecting you to behave properly toward me at all times."

Oh, this is interesting. He's thinking about our night together now? I am doing well.

"I hope you're not saying that you have any complaints at this time." I give him a look back that dares him to tell me I've done anything wrong here. I haven't. And if he wants to find fault with my actions elsewhere, I'll sit here all day and listen to him talk about how I am in bed and what he wants there from me. Maybe I'm doing a hell of a lot better than I thought. I definitely have gotten to him. And this after getting Harm last night and this morning. He isn't thinking about that now.

"Not at this time." Hmm. Keeping me on that hook. Clay, you are going to be hell to keep up with. I love it. These kind of games will make my life a lot of fun.

"All right." I keep my eyes on him, and I don't even try to hide the way I'm feeling. I want him to tell me what to do. He's the boss. Let him act like one.

He's shifting again, his face showing me that he's turned on again, still, and I relent. He needs me to be good, to make this easier for him. "What will you want me to do?"

"You know how to use the computer?" All right. I'll take that as a serious question, although I can't imagine that he doesn't know that much about me.

"I've gotten a lot of practice with them lately." Leavenworth and reservations. This job had better be more interesting than that. I'm never going to a national park as long as I live, after hearing from all the people who do go to them. Morons, most of them, and the others were all right but misguided. Vacations are meant to be spent in luxury, not a sleeping bag.

Although if Clay told me he wanted to sleep out under the stars and asked me along, there's no chance in hell I'd say no. There's not much I would say no to him about now.

He checks that I'm in their system and gives me my first assignment. Jerusalem. Current at least, but I doubt that anyone's going to give the green light for action there. Too volatile. Then I hear the rest of his requirements, "assume a two-man team, both experienced," and know what he's really asking for. I have to fight the smile that wants to come. He wants to know what I think of him, what I think of me, and of us. Clayton's come to terms with this. Now all I have to do is dazzle him, and I can do that if I work my ass off. That's not a problem, since it's for him. The CIA's getting the benefit, too, but I'm not going to think about that. I work for Clayton Webb now.

God, that thought is getting me hard.

"As in, us?" I have to be sure.

"Yes, as in us." He's a little uncomfortable admitting that. That's all right. I'm a lot more certain now this partnership is going to work than I was when I walked in here.

"And when will you want that done?"

"Tomorrow at the latest. Tonight would be better." He's not smiling, but I know he wants to. I couldn't help showing my surprise. Oh, he wants to get me off-balance. Good. Play any game you want with me, Clay. I can keep up, or lose, if that's what you want. Whatever you want. "Keep me up with your progress."

"I will." I look right at him and something shifts in me. I don't know if it's the coolness in his eyes or the amusement in them, but the thought that starts drumming through my head is that I'm his property now. God. I am. Might as well get a fucking collar and put it on, no, have him put it on me.

This is insane. I've never wanted this. But now I do. To be Clayton Webb's, every inch of me. New life, for damned sure. Did I have to find that out here, on my first goddamned day with him?

Too late for that now. Now I have to cope.

"Is there anything I can do?" I know what I want to do, go over and take his cock out and suck it until he fills my throat with his come. Tell me to do it, Clay. I don't care where we are any more. I've lost it. "I know my place here, Mr. Webb." I lick my lips and stare at him. Dammit, if I don't get my control back soon, I'm going to be in big trouble. But he just might take me up on it. He got my message, and he is tempted.

But he's Clayton Webb, and Clayton Webb is a professional. And professionals do not have sex in their offices.

Life is a bitch sometimes.

"Palmer, don't call me Mr. Webb here. Last name is fine."

I'm so damned off-balance that I start to say something about the DSD, but stop before I get more than a sound out. I've got a pretty good idea of what that will get me, and it's nothing I want. I nod instead and see him relax. All right. This is a good thing, a sign he's accepting me. But dammit, I want to keep calling him that. Time to get the hell out of here before I do something really stupid.

"I should get to work, then. I don't want to waste your time." I stand and wait for him to tell me I can go.

"If you need anything, let me know." He's standing, and yeah, he's hard too. He keeps his eyes on my face, and I wish he'd let them drop. Maybe if he saw, he'd do something.

One more try. I can't help it. "I will, Webb." I put the rest of the promise into my smile.

But this time it doesn't even seem to reach him. Hmm. Or he's making damned sure not to let me know.

Clayton Webb may be too smart for me.

"I expect you to be able to manage your time," he says coolly, and I know that he means it.

"Of course I can." I make sure to look properly humble, which isn't easy with a hard-on, but I have to behave. "You don't need to worry about that, Webb." I don't want him to worry about me, just think about me. There's a difference.

He nods to the door, and I leave to go back to my office and get working. Tonight? I can do it, and I will, even though my cock is screaming at me to go back and beg him to fuck me now, or at least take it out and get off with the sound of his voice in my head.

I'm a professional, too. Good thing.

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

Clayton is really, really enjoying having power over me. I can tell, because he keeps making me do over perfectly good work, and every time I open my mouth to tell him to shove it, his eyes have a gleam that reminds me of that moment in his office when I knew all I wanted was to be doing whatever he said, and I shut up.

I know he's busy, and that Rabb got the pleasure of his company for dinner, but somehow didn't even try to get him home. Rabb's an idiot. And I decide that I've waited long enough. Sure, I want to be Clayton's, but obviously writing him evaluations isn't going to get me what I want. And he and I have some unfinished business. Time to see about finishing it.

It's getting late, but I know he's still here, so I shove the latest report into a folder and get down to his office. I knock and get a terse "What?" and go in. He gives me an annoyed look, but I don't back down. My turn to play.

"I finished another evaluation." I hold out the folder to him. "I was wondering if this time we could go over it together. But I see you're leaving."

"Yes, I am leaving. We'll go over your work together tomorrow. Nine-thirty."

All right. But that isn't the point; it's the excuse. I knew he'd either be leaving or decide to leave as soon as I showed up. I'm counting on that.

He takes the folder and puts it on his desk, and I know that he's expecting that I'll be gone when he turns around, or at least going. Sorry, Clay, I'm not leaving. Not without you. I just wait. When he moves, I'll move.

The look he gives me when he finds I'm still there is puzzled. Wonder what he's thinking. It doesn't matter, because he's not thinking what I want him to. But that isn't going to happen here.

"Good night, Palmer." Ah, we're leaving. Good.

"Good night, Webb." I make sure to get out of his way. Can't have him suspect anything now. It would ruin it.

He heads for the elevator, so I do, too. When we both end up in it, he looks startled.

"I don't live here, Webb." It's fun teasing him. "Did you think I did?" I need to make sure he knows where I do live, just in case he wants to come over. I'd love him to do that.

"I don't have to deal with you after hours." He's glaring, but then the glare vanishes and I know he's remembering our deal. Yeah, Clay, you do have to. But I'm not going to push you yet.

"Of course not." Just a little longer, I tell myself. And then Clayton Webb will be mine. I'll be his. Who gives a fuck? Not me.

I wait until we get to his car to do anything more. He's getting tense, and I make sure to stay very close to him. I don't want to be subtle. I want to be thinking about what has to be coming.

"Did you decide whether you wanted to tell me about Rabb or fuck?" His hand lets go of the keys, and it's a good thing they're still in the lock. I know that it's safe to talk here. I didn't spend all my time working on that Jerusalem report. "Webb, we had a deal. You remember? At Rabb's place?" I lean against his car, letting him see me. He is looking, at my mouth and my crotch. Good. Maybe I won't have to threaten him. Maybe he's ready for this, too. "Come on, Webb, it's after hours. I get to be me again."

He's really staring now, and I'm sure he's about to give me the answer I want, that he's not going to say a word about Rabb, when he says, "go home, Palmer" and hip-checks me onto the floor, and it's only by luck that I don't end up in some grease. Damn. He's not getting away that easily.

I get up and stop him from shutting the door with my body. "David Stoner." I don't want to threaten him, but dammit, that will work and clearly I've waited too long to try this. I have to learn more about him. "We could talk about him instead. Would that be more to your taste, Clay?"

I see how turned on he is, but he's fighting it. "Get out of my car. Now."

I give him a long stare before I speak again. He is not getting away from me, but I can't drag him out of here. And I don't want to. I want him to want me. "I thought we had a deal, Clay?"

That should do it. I see his eyes change, and there's that fear in them that the subject of Stoner's death brings up. I hate seeing it, but I know that I'm not going to tell him anything he can't handle. Then the fear goes and I don't know what changed. And then I do, because he tells me:

"We do have a deal." I don't even have time to relax because he's still talking. "I'm saying no tonight."

Shit. The one thing that I have to respect. I gave him that out in his kitchen, but I never thought he'd use it. Clayton Webb is turning out to be a real challenge. All right. I'm not going to be the bastard he thinks I am. Maybe this is all for the best. But try telling my cock that.

"All right. I'll see you tomorrow." And you can bet I'll be thinking about ways to get to you, Clay. I don't want to make a fool of myself again.

I back out of the car and get out of his way, then find a car to lean against and watch him go. Until next time, Clay. Next time I'm going to get you where I want you, into my bed and mouth and ass. And that next time will be soon.

I smile as I think about it.

The End