Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.
How did this happen?
Clayton Webb - in love with me? A few years ago I would have said that's a sick joke.
I mean ... looking back at when we first met - he used me! He used me as a trap for my uncle! I despised him for doing than. And not just doing it but also the way he did it. He cared about nothing but himself and his precious career. Absolutely ruthless and ... and ... I can't find a word that's strong enough. But I met Harm for the first time. And Bud and the Admiral.
I wasn't pleased to see Webb again and I would have bet he wasn't either. Did he avoid me? He asked Harm to do some 'jobs' for the CIA - oh, excuse me, the 'State Department' at this time - but quite a while we hardly ever spoke to each other except for a few and sometimes harsh words. My mind was set: He was a stubborn, headstrong man who would sacrifice everything and everyone to reach his goal.
Well, o.k., sometimes he almost showed a heart. These short glimpses under the shell of his three-piece-suit were - I don't know - kind of frightening and endearing at the same time. But then again he pulled some crazy stunt like ... like in Russia. Harm was searching for his father and he? He used us again! We could have been killed as they shot us down. We would have been killed later if the Admiral hadn't taken action and saved us.
Strange. Speaking of Russia. All was different the next time we went to Russia together.
I was engaged to Mic and I was desperately trying to convince myself that I was in love with him and not with Harm. Just one more item on my long, long list of mistakes.
Even under those circumstances - not to mention the killer of three Americans plotting his next hit in Russia - the flight to Moscow was ... relaxing. We couldn't talk about the mission - there's definitely not enough privacy on a commercial flight, first class or not - and so we had either to stick to magazines and newspapers or to find another topic. And this turned out to be paleontology. To be honest: I think, I lectured him. But he seemed truly interested. I mean, he actually listened, asked questions about what I just said and gave me his full attention. I really thought we were getting along well as we stepped off the plane. It felt good ... it felt - right. And then I blew it because I ran to Harm. There was no choice - I had to do it. Harm had to know what was going on. But afterwards Clayton - Webb ... he said nothing about it. I knew he felt betrayed and expected at least a snide remark about ditching him and bringing the mission into danger. But there was nothing. Not a single word.
And I - I did my best to forget about that strange comfortable feeling I got in his company. I shoved the memory deep down under my longing for Harm, under my helpless wish for a family ... and later under the pain after Mic left.
I should have known. You can't escape the past. It took a long time but in the end the memory surfaced again.
It wasn't in Afghanistan. Afghanistan was a terrible experience - I sometimes still have nightmares feeling that knife on my skin - but I had enough self-control left to hold the memory down. Even after he saved me. No. After he helped and trusted me to save myself.
There was a connection. We locked eyes and I knew - I knew what he was thinking. I trusted him. Maybe more than I would have trusted Harm in such a situation. Harm always wants to protect me - rescue me. But Clay ... Webb - he seemed to be absolutely sure that I was able to fight for myself. And I did as he gave me the signal.
Was he in love with me in Afghanistan? Would he have acted that way if he had been in love with me?
I buried Afghanistan under the warmth of Harm's body as we 'shared body heat' in the desert. I buried the bond I had felt. I buried how good it had felt to have somebody trust me, the Marine Sarah Mackenzie, and at the same time me, the woman Sarah Mackenzie, so entirely.
And then - then came the Angle Shark and Suriname.
Clay was different after he had been in Suriname. I knew it as soon as he'd talked me into the mission and took me to Langley. He tried to hide it but I felt it anyway. Something had changed. He had changed.
Oh, he played along quite well most of the time. But he scared me to death when he told me he didn't feel sure of himself. He scared me ... and he made me proud - kind of. Because he still trusted me. Trusted me with his life and his career - and his very soul.
I knew what he was going through. I know this deep dark valley of self-doubt and despair. I've been there too many, many times. I vowed to myself that I was going to help him out of it. I know very well how hard it is to struggle and try and fight. I vowed that I'd bring the old Webb back to me.
Instead everything went from bad to worse. They caught us. And I know it was my fault. I'm a Marine. And I acted like a Marine. But it wasn't an operation for a Marine. It was an operation for a spy, an undercover agent and there are different priorities. A different way to act. Not a better one. Definitely not a better one. But different.
Clay paid for it.
I heard his screams. I saw his injuries. I had his blood on my hands. I thought we were going to die.
I remembered as I held him in my arms. The flight to Russia. Afghanistan. And that horrible moment when the Admiral had told us he was found dead on a freighter in Baltimore. We were so close these past couple of days. But I kept telling myself it was only friendship.
He tried to hold me back but I wasn't willing to let him suffer any more. I thought I was so brave. Playing hero, Ninja-girl?
I regretted it. I'm never going to tell anyone but I regretted my decision as soon as I took one step into that horrible room. Saw these - these things, saw this table. And this smell. This awful smell.
I can't describe what I felt as Harm suddenly appeared in the door. I just stared at him. Speechless. There were only two possibilities how to react: Break down and cry - or bottle everything up inside and go on. I went for the latter and one reason for doing it was Clay. I had to be strong for him.
He didn't say 'I love you'. But what he said is maybe more than that especially when it comes from the lips of a man like Clayton Webb. Admitting you need somebody is never easy.
The sad thing is: I'm not sure why I kissed him. A part of me wants to call it pity. That I was afraid I wouldn't see him again. That it was comforting a friend. The other part keeps telling me that I wanted to know what it was like - just one time. To take something with me because I was still sure he was going to die. Damned it, I had every reason to believe that.
But Love? I can't be in love with him, can I? I mean - all these things I remembered but - was it enough to fall in love? For all these years it had been Harm and Harm and Harm again. I still want Harm - yes, I do! - but ... why do I feel so ... Why did it feel so - right?
And now I'm here. Sitting at his hospital bed. He's looking awful - so ... fragile. I don't want to imagine what painkillers they feed him to make it bearable.
I'm embarrassed. Why can't I find other words than 'Hey' and 'How are you'? It's such a ridiculous question. But what else can I say? What else is safe to say?
I look down and start picking at the cast on my left arm. Well, thank you very much for this, Harm. You wanna fly a plane? Go ahead but without me! Not only we went down - no, we had to hitchhike back and that over these roads and with an arm throbbing painfully.
It hurts. Oh, not my arm. But once again I'm caught in the middle of two men. Two men I like and love - but in different ways. And both are expecting so much from me. But I'm no angel. I'm human - I'm making mistakes ... and I'm weak.
Oh, Harm, why did you have to do this? The Navy is your life! Well, I guess, I've asked for it. Maybe I really wanted you to prove what you were willing to sacrifice for me. Looks like I've got my answer now. But instead of being happy I feel ... guilty. I don't want to feel guilty, Harm. I don't want to.
And Clay. Oh, Clay, I -
There's a slight movement of Clay's hand. He's trying to reach me but he hasn't got the strength in his battered body. So I do it for him and take his hand in mine. He gives me a soft squeeze and a half smile. His voice is just a whisper.
"Don't worry, Mac. I know it was a kiss for a dying man."
For a moment there's just bleak emptiness in my head while I'm trying to understand. And then I burst into tears. The tears I've been holding back for so long. I need to say something - anything - but he doesn't want me to. Instead he's closing his eyes, turning away from me. His hand is slipping out of my fingers.
A long time I'm just sitting there, crying. I know what he's doing. He's setting me free. He's giving me an honorable way out - and that's more than any man in my life was ever willing to do for me. Especially not Harmon Rabb junior.
In the end I calm down a little. Clay's laying motionless and I can't tell if he's fallen asleep or if he's just pretending. Anyway, the least thing I can do is respecting his pain. Slowly I get up and bend over him. I feel the need to kiss his lips but that would be cheap. Selfish. So I kiss his forehead as softly as I can. Then I'm practically fleeing from the room. I'm still crying without a sound. I close the door - and there he is. Leaning against the wall.
Harm. My knight in shining armor. I need you, Harm. I need you so badly. But knights rescue the maiden and afterwards ride off into the sunset. Or things like that.
Don't give me that look, Harm. I can't stand that look now. I've loved you for so many years and all you've given me back were those looks full of longing and nothing more. I still love you but - I can't deny my feelings for Clay. No matter what he just said. You've always asked for more time, Harm - now I'm the one who needs some.
So I just turn and walk away. I don't know where I'm going but that's nothing new. I'm more confused than ever.
Oh God. What am I going to do now?
End of part two.
Author's note: I think, I'll write one more chapter ... try and guess whose turn it's going to be.
