Author: Gail
Fandom: JAG
Pairing: Clayton Webb/Clark Palmer
Rating: R
Summary: Webb sees Rabb with a woman, and has to deal with it.
Archive: yes to Jagslash, Querstrich, RSA, CKOS, WWOMB. All others, please ask.
Email: gem225@hotmail.com
Series: Part 7 in the Eclipse series
Web Page: http://www.fortunecity.de/lindenpark/vogelweide/216/main.htm
Disclaimer: Of course I don't own them. They belong to CBS and Belisarius Productions.
I wrote this for Alex, who is developing into a fine and sneaky muse. I can't even remember what she wrote to get me started on this one, but she did. She also came up with the title and did another of her superb fast and happy betas, for which I thank her profusely. Tinnean read this, encouraged me to post it, and made me laugh a whole lot in the process, and Silk wrote me a cool Palmer slash, for which I thank her again.
Eclipse 7: Just Dinner
by Gail
*****
"A half bottle of the Sancerre," I end my order, and the waiter takes the menu and leaves. I sip my water and try to relax. A goddamn hell of a day, and it might not be over yet. I hope it is. I shouldn't have left Langley, but Palmer swore he'd call me if anything changed. I'm trusting Palmer. I never thought that would happen.
"You'd love flying," I hear a very familiar voice say, and angle my head toward the sound. "Think of it, Kit, up in the sky, no responsibilities, no ties to the earth at all until we want them. And we can celebrate being back safely on the ground." A low laugh. "Does that sound good to you?"
A woman's laugh, then the man's again. I can see them now, over at the bar. Rabb, in *my* favorite restaurant, with a woman. Pretty one, short skirt and heels, and oh, yes, she's got that adoring look in her eyes. He's got one hand on his drink and the other on her shoulder, stroking it. I know how those fingers feel on bare skin. I want them on me.
I should look away, but I can't. Damn you, Rabb. I don't need this. It's bad enough that I know you're seeing women. Do you have to make me watch?
He probably isn't even doing this on purpose. I know I've never told him about this place. It's a coincidence.
It doesn't matter. I can't stay.
I get my waiter's eye again. "I have to go," I say quietly. "Business."
"I'm so sorry, sir." He takes the bills I press into his hand. "Another time?"
"Yes." If I can ever get that image of Rabb and Kit out of my head, I'll be back. I stand, throw my coat over my arm, and head toward the exit. Of course, Rabb sees me. For one moment, our eyes meet, and I can read him. Surprise, then a strange look, maybe anger, but he has no right to be angry with me. I give him a short nod and keep going. I don't know if he thinks he's going to introduce me to this woman, but I know I'm not going to wait to find out.
I'm glad that I don't have to go too close to the bar. He isn't even looking at me now, and she's laughing. Why not? He's giving her those special smiles of his, the ones I only get when he wants something from me, like some inside information on a case or a blowjob. Damn, I hate this. I hate *him*.
I'll get over it. I always do. I can't stay away from Harmon Rabb.
I get to my car and into it and sit there. Of course, the phone rings. I don't want to answer it, don't care who the fuck it is or what's going on, but I do after a moment.
"Webb."
"Just wanted to let you know that the crisis is over." Palmer.
"I'm going home, and so is everyone else. So you can go ahead and enjoy your dinner. Having anything good?" His tone is light and relaxed. Of course. None of this matters to him. Does anything matter to Clark Palmer? Probably not. He's free, he's got his new life, he's got me on a string. What more could he want? I don't want to know.
I can't answer, can't talk.
"Webb?" His tone is sharper now. "What the hell's going on?"
"Nothing," I manage. "Thank you for the information. I'll see you tomorrow."
I hang up before he can say anything, put the phone down, and get out my keys. The phone rings again.
"Webb." I hope this time I sound better.
"I'm your partner, dammit. Don't fucking hang up on me." He sounds furious. I've never heard him like this. "Where are you?"
"I'm in my car. About to go home." When, I'm not sure, but I'll get there. Maybe I'll go find a bar where I can drink until I don't feel anything. That would work.
Silence. "What happened to dinner?" He sounds saner now, calm, in control. What if I did tell him? What would he do? Probably tell me I should have gone over and tried to seduce Kit myself, piss off Rabb. Or maybe he'd understand. I'm not going to find that one out. It's my secret what happened tonight.
"I changed my mind when I ran into a friend I didn't want to see."
If I were into superstition, I'd cross my fingers, but I'm not. It works out fine. He doesn't ask who.
"Why don't you come over to my place? Let me fix you something? Or if you're not up to spaghetti, we could get takeout." His voice has something in it that I can't place. Diffidence? Invitation? Longing? I'm too tired to get it.
"No, thanks. I'm going home." I am, now. Getting drunk won't help. Maybe I'll pick up something to eat on the way. I don't have anything in the house that wouldn't take a while to fix, and I'm hungry.
I expect him to hang up, but he doesn't. "Make sure you eat something, all right?"
"I will," I say after a long moment. He gives a damn. He really does. I don't understand this. "You really going to eat? Food would be good."
"Yeah." His voice is calm and casual, but I know he knows I've changed my mind. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to think about Rabb. And he can make me forget all about him. I remember how well he can do that. "Let me surprise you."
"All right. See you soon."
"Yeah, soon." He clicks off at that, and I start the car. It's just dinner, I tell myself. It doesn't mean anything.
But I know it does. I've never just gone over there before. I've gone over, sure, but because I was furious at him for something he'd screwed up. That always goes the same way. I get in there, start chewing him out, get turned on and distracted and end up fucking him. By that time all my anger's gone, and I want to be there with him.
I want him. And I want Rabb. Maybe I should go back in there, join them. I know how to make it impossible for him to get rid of me. I'm an expert at that. Ask anyone in JAG. They've tried to get rid of me many times, and I never go.
I push that away. No, I'm not going to fuck up Harm's evening. He's seeing a woman, all right, I know he does, I'm a grown-up for god's sake, I'll handle it.
Oh, yes, I'm really handling it. But if he's going to go to bed with her, he certainly has no moral high ground to bitch if I find a bed that's warmer and more fun than my own.
So I will.
*****
Clark's smiling at me as I finish my second plate of assorted Chinese. "Good thing I got as much as I did," he teases. He's in a t-shirt and jeans, looking so relaxed and young that I could almost believe he was just out of college. He rakes his hand through his hair. "Want some more?"
I put down my chopsticks and pick up my glass of beer. He was right; it goes perfectly with the food. "No, thank you. I'm full."
He stands, comes over and takes my plate to put on top of his, carries them both to the sink. "What do you want?"
I'm glad that my glass is on the table. He's looking at me with those eyes of his, and they're offering everything.
"Just dinner, Clay? That's fine. Whatever you want is fine with me."
He means it. I find my voice again. "I want more." And I do. I want to wipe out that pain, that anger, that helplessness I felt seeing and hearing Harm with that woman. I want to matter, I want someone to want me, be there for me. And I know that Clark will do that for me.
He comes over. "Let me give it to you, then." And he's down on his knees, undoing my pants with gentle fingers, stroking me to hardness. I let my legs fall further apart. Yes. I close my eyes and imagine what I want. Harm on his knees, doing this, saying he's sorry he hurt me. Saying he wants me. Then I open them and feel like hell. I want *him* to want me, and what do I do? Dream about Harm.
I reach down to Clark. "Stop." He gives me a puzzled look and keeps stroking. I'm hard, and it feels so good, but no. I won't be that kind of person. I won't use him. "I said stop."
He does, finally, and stares at me. "So what did Rabb do?" He stands, and I put my cock back in my pants with difficulty. "Had to be him. He always gets to you."
"I'm not going to discuss him with you." I don't try to deny what he said. Why bother? He's right. Rabb does get to me. But that's all I'll say on the subject.
"Yeah, I see." He's silent, leaning against the counter. "All right. Let's try this again. I asked you over. You came. I want you. Can I have you?"
"What, no blackmail?" I want to hurt him, hurt someone. Hurt Rabb. But Palmer's here.
His face tightens. "All right, Clay, if that's the way you want it, fine. Go in the bedroom and strip, or I'll tell you what the fuck Stoner said. Is that better, or did you want me to throw you around? Never thought you'd get into that."
"What I want..." My voice dies off. What I *don't* want is this fight I started. "Do me a favor, Palmer."
He's looking at me warily. "What?"
"Just shut me up?"
His face smooths into a smile. "My pleasure." And he comes over, takes my head in his hands, and kisses me until I don't give a damn about anything but him.
The End