Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no
copyright infringement is intended.
---
THE PRESENT
I put my chin in my hand and glance over the bedside. My little angle is moving her lips and stirring a bit but is still sound asleep. So I drift back into my memory. It was such a perfect night. My dreams had come true. More than my dreams. Harm was so sweet. He seemed to know exactly what I needed and it felt so good. But that disturbing little voice in my head kept telling me that something was wrong - that I was betraying Harm somehow the way I accepted his love right at this moment. I tried to ignore that voice. I wanted desperately to be happy - I deserved this, I'd waited long enough for this - why questioning my luck. I think, I walked through the office with my feet at least three inches above the floor. And the next Saturday I landed back on the ground. Hard. You should really listen to tiny little voices in your head...
***
FLASHBACK
- Residence of Senator Wilson
"What a nice estate," commented Meredith looking with big eyes and craning her neck to get a better view of the ceiling. Chegwidden's grunt caused Mac to stifle a laugh. But it *was* nice. A real mansion with high-ceiling rooms, the big windows opened a beautiful view into the well-kept garden. Tasteful flower arrangements decorated the rooms inside and concurred with the colorful flower beds outside. An orchestra was getting ready on the terrace; the buffet tables were already set. Senator Wilson really didn't save to celebrate the retirement of his brother, Admiral John J. Wilson.
"Let's find John and get the congratulations over with," suggested Chegwidden, "Then we can enjoy the afternoon." None of the women had objections and so they made their way through the chatting guests. Mac kept looking around. She saw a lot of faces she recognized from the SecNav- dinner earlier that week and felt a sting of worry to stumble across Clayton Webb again. The next second she groaned inwardly. Yes, there he was - and once more *that blonde* had wrapped a possessive arm around his waist. The stylish pants suit was making her long legs even longer. Purposefully Mac looked away but it was already too late - her good mood had evaporated to nowhere. Anger replaced her calm. Directed on Webb for having this effect on her and also directed on herself for letting him get to her so easily.
For the next twenty minutes or so she kept herself busy greeting people and wandering around with her CO and his fiancée. She noticed out of the corner of her eyes that Webb and the blonde trailed in measured circles through the crowd, covering every corner of the rooms and the garden on their way. And in the end the unavoidable happened: Chegwidden spotted the spy.
"Isn't that Webb over there?"
Mac had to confirm it was obviously him. Sighing she followed the Admiral as he stepped up to the man whose nose he had once broken.
Webb saw him coming and whispered something to the blonde. The woman gave the approaching group a quick once-over as she had done with Mac and Sturgis on the dinner party. She sure was beautiful but her features also lacked somehow an interesting touch, like a little unevenness, to bring some life into her face. Just her estimating eyes didn't seem to go with the picture of a bored beauty.
"Mister Webb," Chegwidden offered his hand which Webb took after a moment of careful hesitation. He greeted the two other women and introduced once more the blonde.
"I see you're feeling well again," continued Chegwidden after an awkward pause.
"As good as possible," answered Webb sober his eyes wandering to Mac. Again an uneasy silence fell between them.
"Oh, look honey, there's Mrs. Martin. We really should greet her," the blonde cut in. She flashed a vague smile in their direction. "Would you please excuse us...?"
There was nothing more to say and the three of them watched the couple walk away. Chegwidden shook his head.
"Well, that was ... creepy."
This second a waiter with an empty tablet walked into Webb's side. Webb stumbled and was caught by the blonde then regained his balance. Obviously angry the blonde yelled something at the waiter and hustled her companion in the direction of the garden. Suddenly Webb seemed to limp slightly.
Mac frowned but was distracted by Meredith's next words.
"He's wearing make-up."
Chegwidden laughed. "I've never considered Webb to be *that* kind of man."
"No, AJ, not that kind of make-up," Meredith corrected impatiently, "Theater make-up. I've worked with it on quite a few occasions. The type you use to change the appearance of your skin and so on. So you're looking pale or red in the face. It's well done but I've noticed it anyway." She gave her fiancé a questioning look. "Haven't you said he has been ill recently?"
"Excuse me. I ... I have to check something," Mac stammered with a growing feeling of upcoming problems. She didn't wait for an answer and headed in the direction she had last seen Clayton. The couple had rounded a large hedge and just as she was about to reach its corner she saw a waiter disappear behind it too. Right at this moment the orchestra started with its first piece of music and the guests turned to listen.
Mac fought her way to the hedge, stepped around it and noticed two things in the same split second: Webb and the blonde standing further down the path - with the hedge to their right, a flower bed to their left - Clayton was doubled over in pain, the blonde bending over him ... and the waiter, approaching them fast, pulling a gun with silencer out under a white serviette.
"Behind you!" Mac's voice drowned in the sudden crescendo of the orchestra but somehow the blonde had heard her. Her head snapped around and she pushed Webb violently, propelling him backwards into the flowers. Whirling sideways she tried to grab something in her purse but stumbled under the impact of a bullet and was thrown to the ground.
The man was running now as was Mac, cursing her skirt and with the horrible knowledge of being to late - there was no way she could reach the assassin before he got a clear shot at Webb, her yell for help was unheard in the music. And the blonde sprang to action.
Mechanically moving her legs Mac saw in stunned disbelief the other woman jumping to her feet and attacking the assassin despite the blood covering her shoulder. Her first kick caught him solidly in the stomach, followed by a spin and the next second the gun went flying through the air. There was a short, hard and dirty exchange between the two opponents. It ended abruptly as the blonde landed a direct blow to the assassin's jaw, turned, jumped, rolled once, somehow got hold of his gun, rolled a second time - and shot a round of bullets in his chest.
Mac stopped short and stared. Stared at the dead man and at the blonde, unwavering pointing the gun at her. Stared into the black hole of the silencer and eyes of an icy blue. Without thinking she uttered the first words she could come up with.
"You - you've killed him!"
The blonde sighed annoyed and lowered the gun. She tilted her head. "Webb?"
A groan came out of the flowers. "Just catching my breath."
"Clayton!" Mac hurried over and kneeled beside him. The blonde rolled her eyes, muttered something like "Oh, no, nothing I need to know" and came to his other side.
"I'm all right - all right." Webb worked himself in a sitting position and frowned. "Petra you're bleeding!"
"Why, thank you for the information," the blonde snapped back. "Did I hurt you? Sorry, but ..."
"I know, I know. I've been standing in your way." Webb pressed a hand to his stomach and gritted his teeth. An expression of pain flickered across his face. "Well, I guess we've found our second man but Code Red is still out there."
"Code Red? Second man? This - this is ... you're working?" Mac's voice rose with every question. She looked at the blonde. "You're CIA?"
The blonde gave her a blank stare and turned at the sound of running steps coming nearer. Mac's eyes grew large. She knew at least one of the approaching men.
"Douglas?!"
"Colonel Mackenzie," the man who had handled her at Langley nodded shortly. "Bloomer. How bad is it?"
"Hurts like - oh, what for," grumbled the blonde, "Where have you been? We almost got killed!"
"Sorry. Manley, we need a blanket. We've got to get rid of this guy. Webb, if I've heard you right this isn't -?"
"No," Webb tried to steady his breath, "He's still out there. He must have seen me and has sent his second man to solve the problem."
"O.k. - so we still have a job to do. Come on, Webb."
"Hey, wait a minute!" Mac cut in. She was fed up with listening while they were talking like she wasn't there too. "He's injured!"
"None of your business."
"None of my - Now you listen to me, you son of a -"
"Sarah, wait." Webb got hold of her arm and stopped her angry shouting, probably saving Douglas from physical harm. "It's necessary. Just help me up."
She saw the seriousness in his eyes and swallowed her anger. He struggled to his feet and leaned heavily on her arm. She heard him curse low under his breath. The blonde - Bloomer - shook her head and groaned as somebody pressed a cloth to her shoulder.
"Damn it, she's right, Webb. And I'm in no condition to help you any more," she pointed out.
"I'll help him," stated Mac sternly. And addressing Douglas: "And don't dare to stop me. You know I can handle this."
Douglas looked in her determined face and shrugged. "Webb?"
"Fine by me. Let's get this over with."
"Then go. No, wait, I check the mic first." Douglas adjusted the cords hidden under Webb's suit vest and nodded. "All right. Be careful - he knows you're here!"
Mac slipped her arm around his waist like Bloomer had done earlier. And for exactly the same reason. Grimly she pushed any other thought down. Once more she had to focus on the mission at hand - she could scold herself later.
"You're really up to this?"
"I have to."
"Why? Fill me in."
They slowly stepped around the hedge und blended into the clapping crowd of guests. Webb groaned softly and seemed to lean on her even heavier.
"I'm the only one who has ever seen his face. At least the only one who can link him to one of his jobs."
"An assassin?"
"Yeah," Webb kept his eyes moving, "He's one of the best. We don't even know his real name. We knew he had accepted a job here - we just didn't know when he intended to act. Guess we do now."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Classified."
"Ooh -" Mac maneuvered them in a new direction. She felt the same frustration she had felt many times working with the spy. "You know his target?"
"Within 90 percent."
"That's great. Really great. You've seen anything so far?"
"Nothing important. Just Chegwidden heading in our direction."
"Ooh -!" This time Mac's groan was even more desperate.
"Colonel! Webb! Did I miss something?" Chegwidden's face was priceless. Mac blushed in a deep red.
"Sir - it isn't what it looks like."
"So? Then you surely can explain it to me." Chegwidden crossed his arms over his chest. Meredith laid a calming hand on his arm.
"Sir - uhm - Sir ... that's a little bit difficult ..."
"Got him!" Webb hissed suddenly.
"What?" Chegwidden raised his brows.
"Where?" snapped Mac.
"Right of the orchestra. Dark blue jacket, matching pants. Brown hair. Looking to the entrance."
Meredith started to turn around and was stopped by Chegwidden's strong arm as Mac hissed "No!"
"What the heck is going on?" he demanded to know. Webb ignored him.
"He's got a glass in his left hand. Do you see him? Damn it, open your eyes! Now, he's looking in my direction."
Instinctively Mac pulled him closer to her and in the shield of Chegwidden's broad body. The Admiral seemed ready to explode but moved not an inch, following his combat experience. Just his hold on Meredith's arm tightened somewhat.
"I think he's seen me. He's still looking in this direction," Webb murmured into his mic, "Wait - he's turning away. He's making for the entrance. He's out of my sight now." He seemed to listen for an eternity. Nobody in their small group dared to move a muscle. Mac felt the tension rise. Chegwidden shot looks of intended murder towards Webb. Meredith seemed more confused than scared.
"That's it - they've got him," announced Webb suddenly. He closed his eyes. "Maybe I should sit down for a while."
"Clayton!" Mac fastened her grip around his waist and tried to hold him upright. "Sir!"
Fortunately Chegwidden reacted quickly and supported the spy from the other side. They managed to walk out of the crowd and escaped once more into the garden. Webb seemed to have reached the end of his strength as they lowered him on a bench.
"You have to get him out of here!" Mac hissed in the direction of his hidden mic, "And fast!"
She was horrified by his sudden paleness the makeup wasn't able to mask anymore. He gulped twice and opened his eyes again. He even managed a smile.
"Just a little bit shaky on my feet now. Thanks for the help."
"Just a little bit shaky!" Mac's anger bubbled to the surface. "I bet you shouldn't be up at all!"
"Got me." Webb cupped his face in his hands. Douglas appeared at their side.
"All right. Let's go. Hey, Colonel - you want to change your employer?"
"Only over my dead body!" stated Chegwidden grimly. Mac grinned despite her worries. She made no attempt to follow Clay as he was hurried away. Then she sighed deeply.
'Oh, yeah. Leave it to me to sort my feelings out!'
---
THE PRESENT
I put my chin in my hand and glance over the bedside. My little angle is moving her lips and stirring a bit but is still sound asleep. So I drift back into my memory. It was such a perfect night. My dreams had come true. More than my dreams. Harm was so sweet. He seemed to know exactly what I needed and it felt so good. But that disturbing little voice in my head kept telling me that something was wrong - that I was betraying Harm somehow the way I accepted his love right at this moment. I tried to ignore that voice. I wanted desperately to be happy - I deserved this, I'd waited long enough for this - why questioning my luck. I think, I walked through the office with my feet at least three inches above the floor. And the next Saturday I landed back on the ground. Hard. You should really listen to tiny little voices in your head...
***
FLASHBACK
- Residence of Senator Wilson
"What a nice estate," commented Meredith looking with big eyes and craning her neck to get a better view of the ceiling. Chegwidden's grunt caused Mac to stifle a laugh. But it *was* nice. A real mansion with high-ceiling rooms, the big windows opened a beautiful view into the well-kept garden. Tasteful flower arrangements decorated the rooms inside and concurred with the colorful flower beds outside. An orchestra was getting ready on the terrace; the buffet tables were already set. Senator Wilson really didn't save to celebrate the retirement of his brother, Admiral John J. Wilson.
"Let's find John and get the congratulations over with," suggested Chegwidden, "Then we can enjoy the afternoon." None of the women had objections and so they made their way through the chatting guests. Mac kept looking around. She saw a lot of faces she recognized from the SecNav- dinner earlier that week and felt a sting of worry to stumble across Clayton Webb again. The next second she groaned inwardly. Yes, there he was - and once more *that blonde* had wrapped a possessive arm around his waist. The stylish pants suit was making her long legs even longer. Purposefully Mac looked away but it was already too late - her good mood had evaporated to nowhere. Anger replaced her calm. Directed on Webb for having this effect on her and also directed on herself for letting him get to her so easily.
For the next twenty minutes or so she kept herself busy greeting people and wandering around with her CO and his fiancée. She noticed out of the corner of her eyes that Webb and the blonde trailed in measured circles through the crowd, covering every corner of the rooms and the garden on their way. And in the end the unavoidable happened: Chegwidden spotted the spy.
"Isn't that Webb over there?"
Mac had to confirm it was obviously him. Sighing she followed the Admiral as he stepped up to the man whose nose he had once broken.
Webb saw him coming and whispered something to the blonde. The woman gave the approaching group a quick once-over as she had done with Mac and Sturgis on the dinner party. She sure was beautiful but her features also lacked somehow an interesting touch, like a little unevenness, to bring some life into her face. Just her estimating eyes didn't seem to go with the picture of a bored beauty.
"Mister Webb," Chegwidden offered his hand which Webb took after a moment of careful hesitation. He greeted the two other women and introduced once more the blonde.
"I see you're feeling well again," continued Chegwidden after an awkward pause.
"As good as possible," answered Webb sober his eyes wandering to Mac. Again an uneasy silence fell between them.
"Oh, look honey, there's Mrs. Martin. We really should greet her," the blonde cut in. She flashed a vague smile in their direction. "Would you please excuse us...?"
There was nothing more to say and the three of them watched the couple walk away. Chegwidden shook his head.
"Well, that was ... creepy."
This second a waiter with an empty tablet walked into Webb's side. Webb stumbled and was caught by the blonde then regained his balance. Obviously angry the blonde yelled something at the waiter and hustled her companion in the direction of the garden. Suddenly Webb seemed to limp slightly.
Mac frowned but was distracted by Meredith's next words.
"He's wearing make-up."
Chegwidden laughed. "I've never considered Webb to be *that* kind of man."
"No, AJ, not that kind of make-up," Meredith corrected impatiently, "Theater make-up. I've worked with it on quite a few occasions. The type you use to change the appearance of your skin and so on. So you're looking pale or red in the face. It's well done but I've noticed it anyway." She gave her fiancé a questioning look. "Haven't you said he has been ill recently?"
"Excuse me. I ... I have to check something," Mac stammered with a growing feeling of upcoming problems. She didn't wait for an answer and headed in the direction she had last seen Clayton. The couple had rounded a large hedge and just as she was about to reach its corner she saw a waiter disappear behind it too. Right at this moment the orchestra started with its first piece of music and the guests turned to listen.
Mac fought her way to the hedge, stepped around it and noticed two things in the same split second: Webb and the blonde standing further down the path - with the hedge to their right, a flower bed to their left - Clayton was doubled over in pain, the blonde bending over him ... and the waiter, approaching them fast, pulling a gun with silencer out under a white serviette.
"Behind you!" Mac's voice drowned in the sudden crescendo of the orchestra but somehow the blonde had heard her. Her head snapped around and she pushed Webb violently, propelling him backwards into the flowers. Whirling sideways she tried to grab something in her purse but stumbled under the impact of a bullet and was thrown to the ground.
The man was running now as was Mac, cursing her skirt and with the horrible knowledge of being to late - there was no way she could reach the assassin before he got a clear shot at Webb, her yell for help was unheard in the music. And the blonde sprang to action.
Mechanically moving her legs Mac saw in stunned disbelief the other woman jumping to her feet and attacking the assassin despite the blood covering her shoulder. Her first kick caught him solidly in the stomach, followed by a spin and the next second the gun went flying through the air. There was a short, hard and dirty exchange between the two opponents. It ended abruptly as the blonde landed a direct blow to the assassin's jaw, turned, jumped, rolled once, somehow got hold of his gun, rolled a second time - and shot a round of bullets in his chest.
Mac stopped short and stared. Stared at the dead man and at the blonde, unwavering pointing the gun at her. Stared into the black hole of the silencer and eyes of an icy blue. Without thinking she uttered the first words she could come up with.
"You - you've killed him!"
The blonde sighed annoyed and lowered the gun. She tilted her head. "Webb?"
A groan came out of the flowers. "Just catching my breath."
"Clayton!" Mac hurried over and kneeled beside him. The blonde rolled her eyes, muttered something like "Oh, no, nothing I need to know" and came to his other side.
"I'm all right - all right." Webb worked himself in a sitting position and frowned. "Petra you're bleeding!"
"Why, thank you for the information," the blonde snapped back. "Did I hurt you? Sorry, but ..."
"I know, I know. I've been standing in your way." Webb pressed a hand to his stomach and gritted his teeth. An expression of pain flickered across his face. "Well, I guess we've found our second man but Code Red is still out there."
"Code Red? Second man? This - this is ... you're working?" Mac's voice rose with every question. She looked at the blonde. "You're CIA?"
The blonde gave her a blank stare and turned at the sound of running steps coming nearer. Mac's eyes grew large. She knew at least one of the approaching men.
"Douglas?!"
"Colonel Mackenzie," the man who had handled her at Langley nodded shortly. "Bloomer. How bad is it?"
"Hurts like - oh, what for," grumbled the blonde, "Where have you been? We almost got killed!"
"Sorry. Manley, we need a blanket. We've got to get rid of this guy. Webb, if I've heard you right this isn't -?"
"No," Webb tried to steady his breath, "He's still out there. He must have seen me and has sent his second man to solve the problem."
"O.k. - so we still have a job to do. Come on, Webb."
"Hey, wait a minute!" Mac cut in. She was fed up with listening while they were talking like she wasn't there too. "He's injured!"
"None of your business."
"None of my - Now you listen to me, you son of a -"
"Sarah, wait." Webb got hold of her arm and stopped her angry shouting, probably saving Douglas from physical harm. "It's necessary. Just help me up."
She saw the seriousness in his eyes and swallowed her anger. He struggled to his feet and leaned heavily on her arm. She heard him curse low under his breath. The blonde - Bloomer - shook her head and groaned as somebody pressed a cloth to her shoulder.
"Damn it, she's right, Webb. And I'm in no condition to help you any more," she pointed out.
"I'll help him," stated Mac sternly. And addressing Douglas: "And don't dare to stop me. You know I can handle this."
Douglas looked in her determined face and shrugged. "Webb?"
"Fine by me. Let's get this over with."
"Then go. No, wait, I check the mic first." Douglas adjusted the cords hidden under Webb's suit vest and nodded. "All right. Be careful - he knows you're here!"
Mac slipped her arm around his waist like Bloomer had done earlier. And for exactly the same reason. Grimly she pushed any other thought down. Once more she had to focus on the mission at hand - she could scold herself later.
"You're really up to this?"
"I have to."
"Why? Fill me in."
They slowly stepped around the hedge und blended into the clapping crowd of guests. Webb groaned softly and seemed to lean on her even heavier.
"I'm the only one who has ever seen his face. At least the only one who can link him to one of his jobs."
"An assassin?"
"Yeah," Webb kept his eyes moving, "He's one of the best. We don't even know his real name. We knew he had accepted a job here - we just didn't know when he intended to act. Guess we do now."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Classified."
"Ooh -" Mac maneuvered them in a new direction. She felt the same frustration she had felt many times working with the spy. "You know his target?"
"Within 90 percent."
"That's great. Really great. You've seen anything so far?"
"Nothing important. Just Chegwidden heading in our direction."
"Ooh -!" This time Mac's groan was even more desperate.
"Colonel! Webb! Did I miss something?" Chegwidden's face was priceless. Mac blushed in a deep red.
"Sir - it isn't what it looks like."
"So? Then you surely can explain it to me." Chegwidden crossed his arms over his chest. Meredith laid a calming hand on his arm.
"Sir - uhm - Sir ... that's a little bit difficult ..."
"Got him!" Webb hissed suddenly.
"What?" Chegwidden raised his brows.
"Where?" snapped Mac.
"Right of the orchestra. Dark blue jacket, matching pants. Brown hair. Looking to the entrance."
Meredith started to turn around and was stopped by Chegwidden's strong arm as Mac hissed "No!"
"What the heck is going on?" he demanded to know. Webb ignored him.
"He's got a glass in his left hand. Do you see him? Damn it, open your eyes! Now, he's looking in my direction."
Instinctively Mac pulled him closer to her and in the shield of Chegwidden's broad body. The Admiral seemed ready to explode but moved not an inch, following his combat experience. Just his hold on Meredith's arm tightened somewhat.
"I think he's seen me. He's still looking in this direction," Webb murmured into his mic, "Wait - he's turning away. He's making for the entrance. He's out of my sight now." He seemed to listen for an eternity. Nobody in their small group dared to move a muscle. Mac felt the tension rise. Chegwidden shot looks of intended murder towards Webb. Meredith seemed more confused than scared.
"That's it - they've got him," announced Webb suddenly. He closed his eyes. "Maybe I should sit down for a while."
"Clayton!" Mac fastened her grip around his waist and tried to hold him upright. "Sir!"
Fortunately Chegwidden reacted quickly and supported the spy from the other side. They managed to walk out of the crowd and escaped once more into the garden. Webb seemed to have reached the end of his strength as they lowered him on a bench.
"You have to get him out of here!" Mac hissed in the direction of his hidden mic, "And fast!"
She was horrified by his sudden paleness the makeup wasn't able to mask anymore. He gulped twice and opened his eyes again. He even managed a smile.
"Just a little bit shaky on my feet now. Thanks for the help."
"Just a little bit shaky!" Mac's anger bubbled to the surface. "I bet you shouldn't be up at all!"
"Got me." Webb cupped his face in his hands. Douglas appeared at their side.
"All right. Let's go. Hey, Colonel - you want to change your employer?"
"Only over my dead body!" stated Chegwidden grimly. Mac grinned despite her worries. She made no attempt to follow Clay as he was hurried away. Then she sighed deeply.
'Oh, yeah. Leave it to me to sort my feelings out!'
