Author's notes: Minor spoilers for "Answered Prayers"
Disclaimer: JAG, Please Come Home for Christmas and "Washington's Christmas Station": none of them are mine. They are owned by different people, all of which I'm sure are very nice. No elves were harmed in the writing of this story, which is mine.
Fair warning: My first fanfic.
Silver and Gold
Webb walked away from Rabb and his brother, leaving them to a well-deserved reunion. He checked his watch and counted time zones. His mother was probably asleep by now. He'd call her in the morning.
Nothing unusual, that. His mother spent most Christmases someplace else, usually somewhere warm and sunny. Occasionally he went with her; most of the time he was working. In spite of the warm and fuzzy peace on earth sentiments everywhere, national security didn't stop for the holidays. With the convergence of major religious holidays and accompanying incidents, he was busier in December than any other time.
He'd parked on Constitution, right above the Wall. Being Christmas Eve, there were few cars parked along the street. Sergei had told him he didn't have to wait, but Clay wanted to see Harm's face. It wasn't often he had the opportunity to do something nice for his friends.
And seeing the memorials reminded him why he was in this line of work. Oddly enough, he felt like part of something, walking past the Wall and Lincoln and Korea at a time when the only visitors were a lonely few looking to remember somebody. A family of strangers, as it were, brought together by loss.
Well, aren't we being maudlin tonight, he thought to himself as he unlocked the car door. He started the car and turned on the radio. The Eagles' Please Come Home for Christmas was playing. Appropriate. He checked the dial. It was set to "Washington's Christmas Station", which had been playing non-stop Christmas music since Thanksgiving. He smiled. At least he knew who had been driving his car, since god knows he'd never pick such a station. Good song anyway.
It didn't take long for him to drive to Alexandria. Over the 14th Street bridge, past the Pentagon. Through Crystal City and a few minutes later, into Old Town. Turning into the drive of his corner townhouse, he noticed the lighted Christmas tree in the window. He still wasn't used to seeing it there, mostly because he never put up a tree. He'd taken some teasing for that, although he'd won the argument on the color of the lights.
Unlocking the front door quietly, he looked into the living room as he stepped over the threshold. He slipped his coat off and draped it over the back of a chair. She was sleeping, curled up on the couch under a dark blue throw blanket. Clay stood there for a full minute, watching her.
The only light in the room came from the tree and a brightly crackling fireplace. The same radio station was playing softly. Her hair falling across her face reflected the fire, picking up deep red highlights in the dark brown. He almost moved to brush it back, but didn't want to wake her yet.
He shed his ubiquitous jacket and vest and sat in her favorite leather chair. He leaned his head against the high back, still watching her. Not really thinking anything, just watching. It wasn't often he stopped thinking, stopped working. She was the same way, and between their schedules, they didn't get many moments like this.
Clay knew she was disappointed to not be home with her family, even though she hadn't said anything. When he heard that there might be a way to get Rabb's brother out of Chechnya, she'd helped work out the logistical support. She wanted to go with him, an idea they'd fought over. She hated it when he was over-protective. God knows she'd been in as many dangerous situations as he had, most of them with him, come to think of it. Still, not knowing how long it would take him, he'd tried to get her to go home. Had said he'd fly down to meet her as soon as he got back. In response, she'd called her mother and told her they would both be there a few days after Christmas.
He'd have to see if he could get them a flight out of National tomorrow.
Well, later today. They could have an early breakfast, open presents, and still leave around noon.
Presents. He closed his eyes. In the back bottom corner of drawer in his desk, where she wouldn't look, he'd hidden a little silver box. It wasn't really meant to be a Christmas present; he'd had it since October. It was an impulse buy. She wasn't fond of the institution in general; he'd known that long before he realized how he felt about her. She wasn't likely to say yes. Still, he'd seen it in a little store in Georgetown and knew. Even if he didn't ask her for another year or five, this was the ring.
He opened his eyes when he heard her stir. She was looking at him, smiling.
"Hey."
"Hey, yourself."
She stretched her legs out. "You're back."
"Good observation."
"Ha." She threw a pillow at him. "Everything okay?"
He caught it deftly. "Yeah. The brothers Rabb are together again. You miss me?"
"You were gone?"
He tossed the pillow back at her, which she deflected with one hand. He moved to scoop up the pillow and then continued to the couch, dropping the pillow on her feet and sitting next to her. He brushed the hair off her face, fingers trailing over her cheek.
"I tried to call, but coverage is a little spotty in the East. We got in about an hour ago." He paused. "I thought you might want to fly home tomorrow."
She laced her fingers through his. "You sure you want to get on a plane again?"
"I'm game if you are. It'll make your mom happy."
"Always a good idea." She grinned. "So, does this mean we get to open presents tonight?"
"No." She raised her eyebrows in question. "It's not Christmas yet."
"Well, actually," she checked the clock, "it is. Besides, it's tradition to open one present on Christmas Eve."
"Tradition?"
She nodded. "Mom always let us open one small gift."
"I'm not one to stand in the way of tradition."
She pushed herself into a sitting position. "So, presents now?"
"No. Food now. Presents in a few minutes." He kissed her and stood up.
She stood with him. "There's pizza in the fridge. I'll put it back in the oven and you change."
"Is it yours?"
"Of course it's mine - it's cruel to make delivery guys go out on Christmas Eve. Besides, it's not like I had anything better to do than cook."
"You call that cooking?" Clay asked as he walked up the stairs.
"Hey! It takes talent to fix good pizza. Besides, I figured I could eat it for breakfast if you weren't back," she called after him.
He stopped and looked over the banister. "That's almost as bad as Mac and her Beltway Burgers."
"I'll take that as a compliment. Go, change." She smiled up at him as he took another step. "Clay."
"Yeah?"
"I missed you." She said softly, turned and walked away.
He stared after her for a moment. Then he smiled as he climbed the stairs. It was tradition, right?
Maybe he'd give her the little silver box tonight after all.
Disclaimer: JAG, Please Come Home for Christmas and "Washington's Christmas Station": none of them are mine. They are owned by different people, all of which I'm sure are very nice. No elves were harmed in the writing of this story, which is mine.
Fair warning: My first fanfic.
Silver and Gold
Webb walked away from Rabb and his brother, leaving them to a well-deserved reunion. He checked his watch and counted time zones. His mother was probably asleep by now. He'd call her in the morning.
Nothing unusual, that. His mother spent most Christmases someplace else, usually somewhere warm and sunny. Occasionally he went with her; most of the time he was working. In spite of the warm and fuzzy peace on earth sentiments everywhere, national security didn't stop for the holidays. With the convergence of major religious holidays and accompanying incidents, he was busier in December than any other time.
He'd parked on Constitution, right above the Wall. Being Christmas Eve, there were few cars parked along the street. Sergei had told him he didn't have to wait, but Clay wanted to see Harm's face. It wasn't often he had the opportunity to do something nice for his friends.
And seeing the memorials reminded him why he was in this line of work. Oddly enough, he felt like part of something, walking past the Wall and Lincoln and Korea at a time when the only visitors were a lonely few looking to remember somebody. A family of strangers, as it were, brought together by loss.
Well, aren't we being maudlin tonight, he thought to himself as he unlocked the car door. He started the car and turned on the radio. The Eagles' Please Come Home for Christmas was playing. Appropriate. He checked the dial. It was set to "Washington's Christmas Station", which had been playing non-stop Christmas music since Thanksgiving. He smiled. At least he knew who had been driving his car, since god knows he'd never pick such a station. Good song anyway.
It didn't take long for him to drive to Alexandria. Over the 14th Street bridge, past the Pentagon. Through Crystal City and a few minutes later, into Old Town. Turning into the drive of his corner townhouse, he noticed the lighted Christmas tree in the window. He still wasn't used to seeing it there, mostly because he never put up a tree. He'd taken some teasing for that, although he'd won the argument on the color of the lights.
Unlocking the front door quietly, he looked into the living room as he stepped over the threshold. He slipped his coat off and draped it over the back of a chair. She was sleeping, curled up on the couch under a dark blue throw blanket. Clay stood there for a full minute, watching her.
The only light in the room came from the tree and a brightly crackling fireplace. The same radio station was playing softly. Her hair falling across her face reflected the fire, picking up deep red highlights in the dark brown. He almost moved to brush it back, but didn't want to wake her yet.
He shed his ubiquitous jacket and vest and sat in her favorite leather chair. He leaned his head against the high back, still watching her. Not really thinking anything, just watching. It wasn't often he stopped thinking, stopped working. She was the same way, and between their schedules, they didn't get many moments like this.
Clay knew she was disappointed to not be home with her family, even though she hadn't said anything. When he heard that there might be a way to get Rabb's brother out of Chechnya, she'd helped work out the logistical support. She wanted to go with him, an idea they'd fought over. She hated it when he was over-protective. God knows she'd been in as many dangerous situations as he had, most of them with him, come to think of it. Still, not knowing how long it would take him, he'd tried to get her to go home. Had said he'd fly down to meet her as soon as he got back. In response, she'd called her mother and told her they would both be there a few days after Christmas.
He'd have to see if he could get them a flight out of National tomorrow.
Well, later today. They could have an early breakfast, open presents, and still leave around noon.
Presents. He closed his eyes. In the back bottom corner of drawer in his desk, where she wouldn't look, he'd hidden a little silver box. It wasn't really meant to be a Christmas present; he'd had it since October. It was an impulse buy. She wasn't fond of the institution in general; he'd known that long before he realized how he felt about her. She wasn't likely to say yes. Still, he'd seen it in a little store in Georgetown and knew. Even if he didn't ask her for another year or five, this was the ring.
He opened his eyes when he heard her stir. She was looking at him, smiling.
"Hey."
"Hey, yourself."
She stretched her legs out. "You're back."
"Good observation."
"Ha." She threw a pillow at him. "Everything okay?"
He caught it deftly. "Yeah. The brothers Rabb are together again. You miss me?"
"You were gone?"
He tossed the pillow back at her, which she deflected with one hand. He moved to scoop up the pillow and then continued to the couch, dropping the pillow on her feet and sitting next to her. He brushed the hair off her face, fingers trailing over her cheek.
"I tried to call, but coverage is a little spotty in the East. We got in about an hour ago." He paused. "I thought you might want to fly home tomorrow."
She laced her fingers through his. "You sure you want to get on a plane again?"
"I'm game if you are. It'll make your mom happy."
"Always a good idea." She grinned. "So, does this mean we get to open presents tonight?"
"No." She raised her eyebrows in question. "It's not Christmas yet."
"Well, actually," she checked the clock, "it is. Besides, it's tradition to open one present on Christmas Eve."
"Tradition?"
She nodded. "Mom always let us open one small gift."
"I'm not one to stand in the way of tradition."
She pushed herself into a sitting position. "So, presents now?"
"No. Food now. Presents in a few minutes." He kissed her and stood up.
She stood with him. "There's pizza in the fridge. I'll put it back in the oven and you change."
"Is it yours?"
"Of course it's mine - it's cruel to make delivery guys go out on Christmas Eve. Besides, it's not like I had anything better to do than cook."
"You call that cooking?" Clay asked as he walked up the stairs.
"Hey! It takes talent to fix good pizza. Besides, I figured I could eat it for breakfast if you weren't back," she called after him.
He stopped and looked over the banister. "That's almost as bad as Mac and her Beltway Burgers."
"I'll take that as a compliment. Go, change." She smiled up at him as he took another step. "Clay."
"Yeah?"
"I missed you." She said softly, turned and walked away.
He stared after her for a moment. Then he smiled as he climbed the stairs. It was tradition, right?
Maybe he'd give her the little silver box tonight after all.