Title: Investigating Detective Frazier

Author: Gail

Fandom: JAG

Pairing: Clark Palmer/Clayton Webb

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Clark Palmer has unfinished business with Detective Frazier.

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

Email: gem225@hotmail.com

Series: Eclipse Snapshot #21 and sequel to Of Doppelgangers and Detective Frazier.

Web Pages: http://members.freespeech.org/gem/work/
http://www.angelfire.com/ma4/gem/work/

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. Belisarius Productions and CBS own Clayton Webb and Clark Palmer, and whoever does Crossing Jordan owns Detective Frazier.

Warning: D/s games, non-consensual sex within the parameters of the game.

Notes: This won't make much sense if you haven't read Of Doppelgangers and Detective Frazier, in which Clay and Clark watch an episode of Crossing Jordan, Four Fathers, which has an actor guest-starring who looks very much like Clayton Webb. Strange. *eg*

In the Eclipse series, Palmer blackmailed Webb into bed by telling him he had a last message from Stoner, and Webb wasn't ready to deal with all his feelings about his mentor's death, all the guilt and anger and pain, so Webb slept with Palmer until he was ready to deal with Stoner's death, and afterwards, because he wanted to be with Palmer. He was sleeping with Rabb, too, but Rabb broke up with him to marry Meg, even though he still wants Webb.

The name Clark uses is from his appearance on Martial Law in the episode Bad Seed, in which he was an evil Ninja master, and very sexy, I might add.

For Tinnean and Scarlet. Elizabeth beta'd and helped smooth out the rough parts, as she always does.

Investigating Detective Frazier
by Gail
*****

I read over the memo and smile. Yeah, that'll make Webb happy: no traces to the company, but the hostages get out, without any deaths if the operatives do their jobs. Good thing I'm here in the CIA, because no one else had any idea even close to as good as mine. Now to hope that whoever carries this out is smart enough to follow directions. Maybe I should draw a diagram.

I slide the memo into a folder and stand. I'll take this to Webb. He and I have unfinished business.

His door is open, but I still knock.

He looks up. "Palmer."

I come in and close the door behind me. I never let other people hear my conversations with him.

"The solution you wanted." I stand in front of his desk and bite off the 'sir' that wants to come out. He'll get pissed, not much, but enough to put him into CIA mode, and I want to get him out of that.

He takes the folder from me and reads the memo, then looks up and smiles. "Good work, Palmer."

"Thanks. I sent it to you as an attachment to a message, so you can distribute it under your name."

"It's your work." He gives me an exasperated look.

"Whatever." I don't care about credit from the fucking CIA people, just from Clay, and I got that. "Just send it out."

He shakes his head at me, but he's smiling again, so I know he understands. "All right. Give me a minute."

I nod and look away as he checks his mail, then types. Nice office. Still not good enough for him, but I understand now. He doesn't want to run the whole damned show. He wants to be involved with operations, wants to do what he sees needs to be done. Fine with me. What he wants, I want.

Too bad we can't run the mission and get them out, but I'm still DSD as far as the fucking CIA's concerned, so I get to sit at a desk in Langley and push papers. They've stopped telling him to stay put, so he could go, but I know without asking that he won't without me, and that sooner or later, they'll cave when they really need him. He's looking to the big picture. I can wait. We'll blow them all away when we get into action.

"Done." He turns back to me, and I catch his movement out of the corner of my eye, look over, and smile.

"Great. Webb, do me a favor?" I sit on the edge of his desk when he nods to it and wait for his answer.

"I'd have to hear what it was, first."

I grin at the dryness of his voice. "Nothing illegal. Give Detective Frazier a message for me."

He stares at me. "Detective Frazier."

"Yeah, Detective Rick Frazier, Boston Police Department. You know him, right?" I can see by now he remembers Detective Frazier; his eyes tell me that.

He wets his lips. "I can get in touch with him."

I wonder if he remembers what Detective Frazier owes me. It's fine if he doesn't; I'll get what he promised me.

"Tell him I want to see him. Tonight. My apartment." I lean forward. "He knows where it is."

"Quite a trip for the detective, Boston to DC."

"He's a resourceful man. I'm sure he can make it happen. Tell him," I pause and see his eyes gleam, "his behavior with suspects is under investigation."

He remembers what he promised me. Oh, yeah. I'll bet my week's pay he's hard. I know I am.

He clears his throat. "Anything else?"

"The sooner he gets to me, the better." I want this.

"I'm sure the detective didn't do anything that needs investigation."

Is he trying to get out of this? No, if Clay didn't want to play, he'd tell me so. He's probably just having fun defending the detective, giving me a hint of what I'm going to get later. "I have eyewitness testimony that says otherwise."

"Pity." He stands. "I'll make sure the detective gets your messages."

Yeah. "I'm taking off."

He smiles. "So am I. Have a good evening."

"You, too."

"I'm sure I will."

I could fuck him here. God, I'd love to, and I think he'd let me. But I'd get Clayton Webb, not Detective Frazier if I did that, and I want them both.

I walk to the door, open it, give him one last look, and start back to my office. Dinner somewhere quick, shower, change. Detective Frazier won't care what I wear once I get my hands on him, and I intend to do that damned quickly. It's not good for detectives to get so cocky that they think they can get away with anything. I'm going to teach Detective Frazier a lesson he'll remember for a long time.

*****

I'm all ready and telling myself he'll be here soon when the bell rings over and over, like someone's stabbing his finger into the button. I grin. Must be Detective Frazier. I lick my lips, run my hand over my crotch, and go to the door. Yeah, it's the detective.

"I hear there's some problem with my methods." He stands in the doorway and looks as cool and evil as ever, that cocky little smile getting to me. He's wearing that leather jacket, and he must have stopped at some costume store, because he's got a mustache and a beard just like on the show. I'm hard and ready to fuck him now, but he's not getting off that easy. "What lies have you heard?"

"Lies, Detective?" I motion him inside and shut and lock the door. "As I'm sure Mr. Webb told you, I've got eyewitness testimony."

He runs his tongue over his lips and takes a step toward me. "Some scum's got something against me. You can't believe any of them. I'd think you'd know that."

Damn, he's looking to turn this around. Not going to happen. "The man seemed to know a lot about you, Detective. Like how you liked to fuck his mouth." God, did he ever. I take a careful breath and watch him and that evil smile.

"Scum," he says again and shrugs. "They'll say anything to get out of trouble. Probably high. Did you test him for crack?"

Clay is having too damned much fun, but so am I. "We tested him for everything pertinent, Detective. Or may I call you Rick?"

"Is this an official investigation, Mr. - ? Sorry, don't know your name."

Like hell he's sorry. He's not giving an inch, but I can deal with that. "Special Investigator Douglas Seed." That was my title once, and I knew a guy once by that name. Strange guy. Into ninja. "And you'd be wise to cooperate with me. I can have your ass put in jail."

"You didn't answer my question, Special Investigator. I think you're trying to pull a fast one on me, and that will not happen. I'm out of here. Don't show your face in Boston any time soon. You might find yourself in more trouble than you'd like. We look out for our own."

I grab the collar of the leather jacket I gave him and shove him against the wall, press my thigh between his legs, against his bulge, and breathe in his face. "You're not going anywhere, Detective Frazier."

He struggles, but I know what I'm doing, and he stops when I twist his wrist just the right way. "What the hell are you doing? I'm a cop. Shouldn't," he gasps when I twist it again, "fuck with a cop."

Yeah, right. He's hard thinking about me fucking with him. "Cops shouldn't fuck with suspects," I purr. "Do you know what being a special investigator means, Detective? It means I have the power to detain and question you, and that's what I'm going to do. But
not in some stuffy office. No. You and I are going to talk here. And you're going to tell me the truth, and I don't really fucking care how I get you to do it. We can do it easy," I lick his neck, and he lets out a breath, "or we can do it hard. Up to you."

He actually laughs. "Aren't you the cocky shit? Sure, get hard with me. You don't know what the word means."

He wants it hard. How far can I go? No, how far should I go? I swallow. "Clay."

He blinks. "What?"

"You'd damned well better tell me if it's too much. Say something about Rabb."

"Don't worry." He presses against me. "You're hard. You want this."

"Yeah." Want to tear off his clothes and fuck him now, hard and fast and rough and stop before he comes and make him beg for more, but I can wait, dammit.

"I won't make it easy for you."

"I got that already. Promise."

"If you go too far, I'll say 'Harmon'. Better?"

I have to smile at the exasperation in his voice. "Fine. Let me take off your jacket." He nods, and I get it off him, toss it on the couch, then take a breath and get back in the game. I step back and bring him with me, spinning him around and getting both wrists in one hand. "Sounds to me like you want it hard, Detective." I shove him over the couch and, still holding his wrists, feel between his legs. "You always get hard when someone roughs you up?"

"Fuck you." He doesn't sound too convincing, but that's no surprise, since I've got my fingers on his balls through his pants.

"Not much chance of that. I'm going to fuck you."

He snarls, but his body shudders. "I won't tell you a goddamned thing. You're wasting your time."

"Oh, you'll talk, and if you're lucky, I'll listen. But I'm going to be busy, so it might take me a while." I let go of his balls and run my hand over his ass. "You said I didn't know the meaning of the word 'hard', didn't you, Detective? I think it's time," I grab the collar of his t-shirt and yank him backwards, "you found out I do."

I have to force him down the hall, and he fights me all the way, calling me names, some of which make me grin, like 'cocksucker' and 'faggot'. Guess Detective Frazier thinks that getting your cock sucked is fine; it's getting down on your knees and opening your mouth that's the problem. That's all right. I'm not going to ask him to do that. I'm not going to ask him to do anything.

I shove him into my room and face down on the bed and straddle his back, then I take a calculated risk and let go of one wrist so that I can cuff the other to the bed using the cuffs I put there earlier. Have to be ready for these cocky detective types. He hits my arm a few times, but nothing I can't handle, and once I've secured his right hand, I get his left and lock the metal around it, too.

He yanks at the cuffs. "Motherfucking son-of-a-bitch bastard fuck."

I laugh and slide my hands up from his waist to his armpits and stroke them, getting him to squirm, then find his nipples with the pads of my fingers and rub and feel them harden. "You almost got that one right, except for the mother-fucking. Never had one to try it." It's fun playing a bastard again, but it's more fun knowing I am just playing.

"You'll pay for this."

"You just keep thinking that if it makes you happy." I take my hands away and reach into my pants pocket for my knife. Time to get Detective Frazier undressed. "You might want to stay still. Sharp knife I've got here." I open it and let him feel the point on the exposed skin of his neck. "Wouldn't want to cut you when I'm taking off your clothes."

He goes still, and I lift the knife, then pull the thin fabric away from his body and make a cut through the collar and down the back, then do the same for each sleeve, pull the pieces off him and toss them on the floor. I close the knife and put it away, then get off him and move down to his feet. I pull off his loafers and socks, then back up and undo his belt and the button and zipper and pull off the pants and underwear. He helps, moving when I need him to. I know the cooperation's only temporary.

When he's stripped, I let myself look at him. Very nice. Smooth skin, strong legs, great ass. I smile and get off the bed, undoing my belt as I go. I chose this belt carefully. It's an old one, worn and supple.

"You think you're so fucking great." The anger in his voice surprises me, but I remind myself he's just playing his part. He knows how to stop this. "Having fun?"

I laugh. "Having a great time, Detective. Sorry to hear you're not. I'll have to see what I can do about that." I'm out of his line of vision, so what I'm going to do next will be a surprise.

I double the belt, then aim and strike his ass right across the middle of his cheeks. Not too hard, but hard enough to bring color right away.

"Ah!" He jerks, and my smile widens. "You bastard!"

Still no mention of Rabb, so I'm fine. "Come on, Detective, you can take this. It's nothing. It's less than nothing."

I aim and strike again, and this time he doesn't make a sound. I spread the blows over his ass, keeping them steady, not laying into him the way I could if I wanted. He's still my Clay, and I want him to like this. But he's also Detective Frazier, who's tried to fuck with me.

After twelve, I stop. His ass has red stripes, nothing that'll leave a permanent mark, and his fists are clutching the blanket. "Anything to say, Detective?"

"Fuck. You."

"I'm sure you'd love to, but that's not going to happen."

I start beating him again, and he groans with the third blow.
"Bastard."

I make sure the next blow is a little softer, and he sighs, so I keep the blows soft, but regular. He's grinding into the mattress. I thought he'd like it if I did it right.

His ass is pretty damned red, so I stop hitting it and put my hand on the near cheek. Burning hot. He jerks and moans when I touch him.

"We can keep doing this, or we can get on to the next thing. Any preference, Detective?" I'm going to fuck him, but he doesn't have to know that. Hell, he does, but I want to play it this way.

"No more hitting." He turns his face toward mine, and it's red, too. "Let me go."

I smile, lift my hand off his ass, and run the belt through my fingers. "Guess what? You don't make the rules around here. We're not in some interrogation room in your precinct. Bet you wish we were."

"Shut the fuck up. I'm not talking to you." And he sneers at me and turns away again.

I really think he's not going to talk. He's stubborn as all hell, and I'm so hard that I think I'm going to explode if I don't get out of these jeans. Fuck it. No, fuck him.

I get his ass with the belt again, and he jerks and cries out. I hit him again, and again, and again, and I know it's harder than he wants, but I also know he can take it. After six smacks, I stop. He's groaning, and I smile, drop the belt on the floor, and undo my jeans.

I'm going to fuck Detective Rick Frazier, and he's going to love it. I know I sure as hell am.

I unbutton and strip off my shirt and throw it on top of my jeans. "All right, we don't have to talk." My best purr, and he tenses.

"Let me go."

"Not yet, Rick." He turns his head when I call him by name, and I smile as his eyes widen when he sees my erection. "I told you I was going to fuck you, and I am."

"Son-of-a-bitch bastard," he hisses and glares. "You've got no right."

"Shut up unless you want to beg. I can always warm that fine ass of yours some more. I like fucking a good, hot ass."

I've got the lube open now and cover my cock, then get on the bed between his legs, which I have to wedge open. He's swearing
steadily, and I like hearing it. Let the detective sweat. I put more lube on my fingers, get my other hand into his crack and spread his red cheeks, which gets me a break in the swearing and a moan, and work the lube over and into his hole. Then I grab his ass with both hands and pull him up on his knees. He fights a little, but when I dig my nails into the still-hot skin of his ass, he stops.

I line up my cockhead with his hole and push in, one hard, fast stroke. He cries out and thrusts back against me. "Good, Detective. That's how I like my fucks: eager."

"Just get it over with." His voice is harsh and desperate. "God." He can't keep still, but that's fine. I want my Clay to enjoy this. Not fucking the detective after all.

I thrust in and out, one hand on his left hip and the other on his cock. He's moaning as I fuck him. Hot inside and out, tight, perfect, like he always is. Dammit, I've wanted this so long, and I'm not going to last. He has to come with me. I work his cock hard as I fuck him, and his muscles squeeze as he comes. I make one last push and come, too, hard and right.

I pull out as soon as I get my breath back and blink a few times. Something I have to do? Yeah, think so. What?

"Clark." Clay's quiet voice. "Uncuff me."

Yeah, that's it. But I grin at him. "You want me to do that, Detective, confess."

He gives me a look that's got more annoyance than amusement. "Fine." He takes a breath. "I told the suspect if he sucked my cock, I'd lose the evidence. And I threw him around. Uncuff me, dammit."

I reach for the key on the night table. "That wasn't so hard, was it, Detective?"

Clay snorts as I undo the left cuff. "You hit hard."

"So beat me later. I like it." I will if he does it. No one else damned well better touch me. A memory tries to come back, but I look at Clay, and it gives up.

He shakes his head. "Maybe someday," he says in a low voice and rolls over, then sits up with a wince and puts his arm around me. Can he tell what's going on in my head? Hell, no. "Sorry."

"Then fuck me later."

He laughs at that and takes his arm away. "Give me some time to recover."

"You got it. Do me a favor and take off the face hair."

He laughs again and stands. "Certainly."

He walks out, naked, and I check out his ass. The red's just about gone. Good. Hell of a game. But I don't need games. I have what I need.

The End