Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no
copyright infringement is intended.
---
FLASHBACK
- Mac's apartment, Pensacola
Unnerved Mac threw down the knife she was cutting tomatoes with. Her neighbor had already asked *three times* if he could borrow something for his cooking - for his newest girlfriend. That man was changing his women like others their socks. First he asked for onions. Next was cheese. And then came sugar. What was it *now*? She waddled to the door (she couldn't think of herself as walking anymore - not nearly eight months pregnant), jerked it open - and stared at Clayton Webb.
Webb stared back at her. His gaze trailed down her body and settled on her very present belly, his brows rising higher the lower he got.
"Wow," he stated calmly. He looked back up. "Well, it suits you ... like it did the last time. But if you haven't discovered a really unique hobby ... I guess, it isn't padding this time, now is it?"
Mac snorted. "You'll never change, will you Clay? Come in."
He stepped past her. She noticed the quick look he ran through the apartment. There wasn't much to see. A door to the small bathroom, a corner for the kitchen and one more door to the bedroom. A table near the kitchen- corner and a couch towards the bedroom. And a few plants and a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge on one wall - a Christmas present from her assistant. She wondered what he was thinking about it.
"Nice," Webb commented neutral. He glanced over to the half cut tomatoes and the empty pan on the stove, "Am I interrupting?"
"No, I've just started," Mac wiped her hands with a towel, "You're looking good. How are you?"
It was true - Webb looked had changed a lot since she had last seen him. The scars had faded, maybe with the help of a little cosmetic surgery. He had put on more weight and looked in shape and healthy ... he looked like she remembered him to be before Suriname.
"I'm fine, thank you. What about you?"
Mac shrugged. "Not that bad. My legs are swollen and I have to pee every hour ... uhm, I'm all right."
Webb smirked but immediately grew serious again. She felt a sting of worry.
"Clayton ... why are you here? This isn't a social visit, is it?"
He looked her up and down and sighed. "I just got the news. I wanted to tell you in person. Now I'm even gladder I came here."
Mac's stomach tightened fearfully. The baby reacted to her discomfort and moved uneasy.
"Victor Galindez has been badly injured."
Her hand flew to her mouth. She just stared at him.
"Officially it was an accident. Two cars crashed head-on near Rome. Galindez suffered a major head trauma. He's in a coma. The damage to the brain is ... irreversible."
"Oh God." Mac shook her head. Then it hit her. She narrowed her eyes. "Officially? And what's about *unofficially*?"
Webb sighed. "*Unofficially* he has saved a lot of lives."
Mac raised her brows. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Damn it, what happened? And don't dare telling me that's classified! I deserve better than that. *Victor* deserves better than that!"
"Yes."
Mac waited but Webb avoided her eyes. She took a deep breath. Her voice got louder with every single word. "Yes? That's all you have to say? *Yes*?"
Webb's head snapped back to her. Anger flickered over his face. "Yes! Because it's all I can say! Of course you deserve better! Of course Galindez deserves better! What do you want me to do? Run around and fight for the truth? I tell you the truth, Mac: It's a dirty, a very, very dirty game out there and you can't play it and keep your hands clean! Galindez knew what he was doing. He knew the risks, he knew what could happen. And it doesn't matter that you never believe it could *really* happen! I came here - once more against all orders - because I thought you deserve better than this stupid accident announcement. I thought you should know that his death wasn't for nothing -"
"You've said he's alive! You've said he's in a coma!"
"YES, HE IS! But it would have been better he had died immediately. I've told you there is damage to the brain. Serious damage, Mac! If he really wakes up ... he would never be the same man again. Maybe he wouldn't even remember what kind of a man he had been - maybe there's left nothing more than an empty body!"
Mac stumbled back under the force of his rage. She tried to gather her thoughts. "So that's just one more reason to tell the truth to the world. Why lying to his family? Why denying what he did for this country -" She trailed off. Webb had started to shake his head in annoyance.
"You don't know the reasons, you don't know the background. You're so fast at hand to judge - without knowing anything! You don't know the world I live in. You have *no* idea how many people could get killed if we blow Galindez cover. *NO* idea. You think I like the 'classified' line? You really think that? I've signed more papers concerning security than you'll ever set your eyes on. I've been a Deputy Director of the CIA. I've been involved in more ugly operations than you'll ever know. And that's the only reason the NSA offered that job after the fiasco in Paraguay! Oh, I don't complain! It's better than having an 'accident'! But I'll never be free of these secrets! I have to live with them! And I'll die with them!"
Webb came up for air and suddenly realized that he was shouting at a pregnant woman. He threw his head back in an attempt to regain control. When he looked back at Mac his gaze was sad. His gesture expressed his helplessness.
"Sarah, I ... I didn't mean to..."
"No!" Mac stepped forward and took his hands. She shook her head. "No," she whispered again. "You're right, Clayton. You're right - I don't know the world you live in. And I don't want to know. I understand why you have to be like that, locking everything up inside, keeping your secrets. I'm glad you came anyway. I'm very, very glad you told me that Victor's death, if it's meant to be, isn't for nothing. I shouldn't have accused you. It's just ... it's just..."
Mac closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. After a second she felt a comforting touch on her shoulder.
"He was a good man, Sarah, one of the best. I owe him my life. And he deserves better - but I can't change anything this time," Clay said softly. She nodded and started to cry and after one more second Webb embraced her gently, giving her the silent comfort she needed right now.
***
THE PRESENT
I hug myself and close my eyes. Then I sigh again. Our argument had cleared the air somehow. When I was able to form a complete sentence again, we sat down and talked about the Gunny. Later I persuaded Clay into staying the night. I wasn't able to be alone after the horrible news. In silence we fixed dinner together - I fried the steak and he prepared the tomato-salad ... Strange. Somehow I had never pictured him to be a good cook but he turned out to be one. And the silence didn't feel uncomfortable. During the meal I told him about my job and he told me what it was like to work for the NSA again - at least the small part that wasn't 'classified'...
***
FLASHBACK
- Mac's apartment, later that evening
"It isn't the Agency but working as an analyst isn't so different. I've always liked languages and words... Sometimes it's just hard to stop at a certain point and hand it over to someone else."
"You're missing the action," stated Mac quietly. Webb shrugged and dipped his last slice of bread into the rests of dressing on his plate.
"Sometimes. But then I remember and ... think it's o.k. the way it worked out."
"I see."
Webb bit into his bread and gestured with the rest in her direction. "What about you? You're missing D.C.?"
"Sometimes," Mac replied. She picked up her plate and stood to put it in the sink. "I lived there seven years. You get used to things in seven years."
"I see."
Mac glanced back to see if he was mocking her. He looked serious. She focused on her hands. "Sometimes I wish I could talk to Harriet. Discussing these ... pregnancy things. She's younger than I am but in this matter she has so much more experience ... Sometimes I really want to ask for advice."
"Her phone isn't working?" Webb asked with his old sarcasm. Mac didn't answer and he narrowed his eyes. "Wait a minute. They don't know?"
Mac rubbed her hands. "Things have been ... complicated."
Webb came and stood by her side. "You're telling me nobody knows? *Harm* doesn't know? I mean ... it *is* Harm's, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is!" Mac hissed angry, "And Chegwidden knows. And the rest is none of your business!"
She walked back to the table and got the rest of the dishes. Webb watched her dumping everything into the sink and running hot water. When she started to rub furiously, he just picked up a towel and dried. After a long silence he spoke again.
"I'm sorry. You're right. It's none of my business."
"Glad you noticed it - ouch! Damn it!" She grabbed her belly.
"Mac? What is it? You're all right?"
"I'm fine," Mac grumbled through gritted teeth, "She's just practicing again." She noticed Webb's confused look. "She kicked me. She's doing it a lot lately."
"Oh," Webb stared at her belly. She wasn't sure but was there ... longing in his gaze? "You already know it's a girl?"
"The doctor is pretty sure. Ouch. And here she goes again."
"Isn't it said to be a lovely experience for an expecting woman to feel her child move?" mocked Webb gently. Mac threw the sponge at him.
"Lovely experience," she grumbled, "I've wanted to teach her kick-boxing but sometimes I think she's started rather early! Ouch! This isn't just moving, I swear she's using my stomach as a punching bag! Wanna feel? Wait - here."
And impulsively she grabbed his hand and pressed it against her belly. Then she realized what she had just done. They both froze, staring at each other. Mac blushed and Webb looked slightly embarrassed.
"Uhm, S- Mac?" And the baby chose this very moment to throw some punches against his hand.
Webb's eyes grew round and large. His expression changed quickly from embarrassment to surprise to speechless awe. The corners of his mouth twitched at first then curled up into a stunned grin, becoming broader as he felt another round of kicks.
"Oh," he was searching for words, "Oh my God. Oh. Sarah, this is ... this is wonderful!"
Mac suddenly felt a lump in her throat and swallowed hard to regain control. She had seen his mask fell as he was beaten and as he was grieving and as he was angry - but never like this ... in awe for the miracle under his hands.
After one more moment they stepped apart like to a secret signal. Webb picked up the sponge, handed it over and Mac continued to do the dishes. Webb ran his towel in circles over a plate. He fixed his gaze on his work.
"You know, she's going to need a father," he said quietly.
Mac sighed and went to clean the table. She lowered her left hand on her belly. "A father. Why do all people talk about the importance of a father? There are a lot of women in this world who are single and have a child."
"There are also a lot of men in this world who marry single women with a child."
Mac's jaw dropped. She spun around and stared at him. 'Did he just ...?'
"W - What have you said?" she choked out.
Webb held her gaze. "You know exactly what I've said."
The seconds ticked by, forming to minutes. Finally Webb sighed and gave her a sad smile.
"Two questions - and an honest 'no' to both, Sarah. I can't settle for less. I couldn't stand it. I think I can deal with ... a biological father being part of his child's life but..."
The silence was deep and telling. In the end Webb sighed once more and turned to pick up the other plate.
"We better get going or we'll never finish doing the dishes." He pretended not to see the single tear sliding down Mac's cheek.
---
FLASHBACK
- Mac's apartment, Pensacola
Unnerved Mac threw down the knife she was cutting tomatoes with. Her neighbor had already asked *three times* if he could borrow something for his cooking - for his newest girlfriend. That man was changing his women like others their socks. First he asked for onions. Next was cheese. And then came sugar. What was it *now*? She waddled to the door (she couldn't think of herself as walking anymore - not nearly eight months pregnant), jerked it open - and stared at Clayton Webb.
Webb stared back at her. His gaze trailed down her body and settled on her very present belly, his brows rising higher the lower he got.
"Wow," he stated calmly. He looked back up. "Well, it suits you ... like it did the last time. But if you haven't discovered a really unique hobby ... I guess, it isn't padding this time, now is it?"
Mac snorted. "You'll never change, will you Clay? Come in."
He stepped past her. She noticed the quick look he ran through the apartment. There wasn't much to see. A door to the small bathroom, a corner for the kitchen and one more door to the bedroom. A table near the kitchen- corner and a couch towards the bedroom. And a few plants and a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge on one wall - a Christmas present from her assistant. She wondered what he was thinking about it.
"Nice," Webb commented neutral. He glanced over to the half cut tomatoes and the empty pan on the stove, "Am I interrupting?"
"No, I've just started," Mac wiped her hands with a towel, "You're looking good. How are you?"
It was true - Webb looked had changed a lot since she had last seen him. The scars had faded, maybe with the help of a little cosmetic surgery. He had put on more weight and looked in shape and healthy ... he looked like she remembered him to be before Suriname.
"I'm fine, thank you. What about you?"
Mac shrugged. "Not that bad. My legs are swollen and I have to pee every hour ... uhm, I'm all right."
Webb smirked but immediately grew serious again. She felt a sting of worry.
"Clayton ... why are you here? This isn't a social visit, is it?"
He looked her up and down and sighed. "I just got the news. I wanted to tell you in person. Now I'm even gladder I came here."
Mac's stomach tightened fearfully. The baby reacted to her discomfort and moved uneasy.
"Victor Galindez has been badly injured."
Her hand flew to her mouth. She just stared at him.
"Officially it was an accident. Two cars crashed head-on near Rome. Galindez suffered a major head trauma. He's in a coma. The damage to the brain is ... irreversible."
"Oh God." Mac shook her head. Then it hit her. She narrowed her eyes. "Officially? And what's about *unofficially*?"
Webb sighed. "*Unofficially* he has saved a lot of lives."
Mac raised her brows. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Damn it, what happened? And don't dare telling me that's classified! I deserve better than that. *Victor* deserves better than that!"
"Yes."
Mac waited but Webb avoided her eyes. She took a deep breath. Her voice got louder with every single word. "Yes? That's all you have to say? *Yes*?"
Webb's head snapped back to her. Anger flickered over his face. "Yes! Because it's all I can say! Of course you deserve better! Of course Galindez deserves better! What do you want me to do? Run around and fight for the truth? I tell you the truth, Mac: It's a dirty, a very, very dirty game out there and you can't play it and keep your hands clean! Galindez knew what he was doing. He knew the risks, he knew what could happen. And it doesn't matter that you never believe it could *really* happen! I came here - once more against all orders - because I thought you deserve better than this stupid accident announcement. I thought you should know that his death wasn't for nothing -"
"You've said he's alive! You've said he's in a coma!"
"YES, HE IS! But it would have been better he had died immediately. I've told you there is damage to the brain. Serious damage, Mac! If he really wakes up ... he would never be the same man again. Maybe he wouldn't even remember what kind of a man he had been - maybe there's left nothing more than an empty body!"
Mac stumbled back under the force of his rage. She tried to gather her thoughts. "So that's just one more reason to tell the truth to the world. Why lying to his family? Why denying what he did for this country -" She trailed off. Webb had started to shake his head in annoyance.
"You don't know the reasons, you don't know the background. You're so fast at hand to judge - without knowing anything! You don't know the world I live in. You have *no* idea how many people could get killed if we blow Galindez cover. *NO* idea. You think I like the 'classified' line? You really think that? I've signed more papers concerning security than you'll ever set your eyes on. I've been a Deputy Director of the CIA. I've been involved in more ugly operations than you'll ever know. And that's the only reason the NSA offered that job after the fiasco in Paraguay! Oh, I don't complain! It's better than having an 'accident'! But I'll never be free of these secrets! I have to live with them! And I'll die with them!"
Webb came up for air and suddenly realized that he was shouting at a pregnant woman. He threw his head back in an attempt to regain control. When he looked back at Mac his gaze was sad. His gesture expressed his helplessness.
"Sarah, I ... I didn't mean to..."
"No!" Mac stepped forward and took his hands. She shook her head. "No," she whispered again. "You're right, Clayton. You're right - I don't know the world you live in. And I don't want to know. I understand why you have to be like that, locking everything up inside, keeping your secrets. I'm glad you came anyway. I'm very, very glad you told me that Victor's death, if it's meant to be, isn't for nothing. I shouldn't have accused you. It's just ... it's just..."
Mac closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. After a second she felt a comforting touch on her shoulder.
"He was a good man, Sarah, one of the best. I owe him my life. And he deserves better - but I can't change anything this time," Clay said softly. She nodded and started to cry and after one more second Webb embraced her gently, giving her the silent comfort she needed right now.
***
THE PRESENT
I hug myself and close my eyes. Then I sigh again. Our argument had cleared the air somehow. When I was able to form a complete sentence again, we sat down and talked about the Gunny. Later I persuaded Clay into staying the night. I wasn't able to be alone after the horrible news. In silence we fixed dinner together - I fried the steak and he prepared the tomato-salad ... Strange. Somehow I had never pictured him to be a good cook but he turned out to be one. And the silence didn't feel uncomfortable. During the meal I told him about my job and he told me what it was like to work for the NSA again - at least the small part that wasn't 'classified'...
***
FLASHBACK
- Mac's apartment, later that evening
"It isn't the Agency but working as an analyst isn't so different. I've always liked languages and words... Sometimes it's just hard to stop at a certain point and hand it over to someone else."
"You're missing the action," stated Mac quietly. Webb shrugged and dipped his last slice of bread into the rests of dressing on his plate.
"Sometimes. But then I remember and ... think it's o.k. the way it worked out."
"I see."
Webb bit into his bread and gestured with the rest in her direction. "What about you? You're missing D.C.?"
"Sometimes," Mac replied. She picked up her plate and stood to put it in the sink. "I lived there seven years. You get used to things in seven years."
"I see."
Mac glanced back to see if he was mocking her. He looked serious. She focused on her hands. "Sometimes I wish I could talk to Harriet. Discussing these ... pregnancy things. She's younger than I am but in this matter she has so much more experience ... Sometimes I really want to ask for advice."
"Her phone isn't working?" Webb asked with his old sarcasm. Mac didn't answer and he narrowed his eyes. "Wait a minute. They don't know?"
Mac rubbed her hands. "Things have been ... complicated."
Webb came and stood by her side. "You're telling me nobody knows? *Harm* doesn't know? I mean ... it *is* Harm's, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is!" Mac hissed angry, "And Chegwidden knows. And the rest is none of your business!"
She walked back to the table and got the rest of the dishes. Webb watched her dumping everything into the sink and running hot water. When she started to rub furiously, he just picked up a towel and dried. After a long silence he spoke again.
"I'm sorry. You're right. It's none of my business."
"Glad you noticed it - ouch! Damn it!" She grabbed her belly.
"Mac? What is it? You're all right?"
"I'm fine," Mac grumbled through gritted teeth, "She's just practicing again." She noticed Webb's confused look. "She kicked me. She's doing it a lot lately."
"Oh," Webb stared at her belly. She wasn't sure but was there ... longing in his gaze? "You already know it's a girl?"
"The doctor is pretty sure. Ouch. And here she goes again."
"Isn't it said to be a lovely experience for an expecting woman to feel her child move?" mocked Webb gently. Mac threw the sponge at him.
"Lovely experience," she grumbled, "I've wanted to teach her kick-boxing but sometimes I think she's started rather early! Ouch! This isn't just moving, I swear she's using my stomach as a punching bag! Wanna feel? Wait - here."
And impulsively she grabbed his hand and pressed it against her belly. Then she realized what she had just done. They both froze, staring at each other. Mac blushed and Webb looked slightly embarrassed.
"Uhm, S- Mac?" And the baby chose this very moment to throw some punches against his hand.
Webb's eyes grew round and large. His expression changed quickly from embarrassment to surprise to speechless awe. The corners of his mouth twitched at first then curled up into a stunned grin, becoming broader as he felt another round of kicks.
"Oh," he was searching for words, "Oh my God. Oh. Sarah, this is ... this is wonderful!"
Mac suddenly felt a lump in her throat and swallowed hard to regain control. She had seen his mask fell as he was beaten and as he was grieving and as he was angry - but never like this ... in awe for the miracle under his hands.
After one more moment they stepped apart like to a secret signal. Webb picked up the sponge, handed it over and Mac continued to do the dishes. Webb ran his towel in circles over a plate. He fixed his gaze on his work.
"You know, she's going to need a father," he said quietly.
Mac sighed and went to clean the table. She lowered her left hand on her belly. "A father. Why do all people talk about the importance of a father? There are a lot of women in this world who are single and have a child."
"There are also a lot of men in this world who marry single women with a child."
Mac's jaw dropped. She spun around and stared at him. 'Did he just ...?'
"W - What have you said?" she choked out.
Webb held her gaze. "You know exactly what I've said."
The seconds ticked by, forming to minutes. Finally Webb sighed and gave her a sad smile.
"Two questions - and an honest 'no' to both, Sarah. I can't settle for less. I couldn't stand it. I think I can deal with ... a biological father being part of his child's life but..."
The silence was deep and telling. In the end Webb sighed once more and turned to pick up the other plate.
"We better get going or we'll never finish doing the dishes." He pretended not to see the single tear sliding down Mac's cheek.
