Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's note: Part of the story is dealing with the loss of a child. Please stop reading if this upsets you. Oh, and in later chapters will be a bit W/M but not in this one. You've been warned!
- The Roberts' house
"He named our boy after Star Trek." Harriet couldn't hold the groan completely out of her voice. She shifted James Kirk Roberts in her arm, caught the receiver before it could drop and shoved it deeper between her shoulder and cheek. On the line was a suppressed chuckle.
"Don't worry too much, Harriet. James K. Roberts isn't such a bad name," was the calm response. There were some heartbeats of silence before he added: "I'm very glad, everything went well this time. I really am, Harriet."
"So am I," she whispered back. God, she had been so afraid the last weeks before the birth. So scared. She kissed her son softly then bit her lip to keep the tears from welling up in her eyes again. So damned scared.
"Thank you for calling, Harriet," he said finally and he sounded sincere. "I'm still running some tests and it's ... somewhat hard to escape here. So I couldn't manage to..." he trailed off.
"I understand," Harriet reassured quickly. "Of course. You don't have to ... to apologize."
Silence again.
"So ... I wish you the best, Harriet."
"Thank you." Harriet sensed he was about to hang up and blurted out the next words. "I - I ... What I wanted to say..."
"Yes, Harriet?" he probed because she didn't continue. Harriet took the receiver in her hand.
"I just wanted to tell you... You were right."
He waited.
"Time heals every wound. At least up to a point." She heard him sigh.
"Sometimes it's just hard to believe, isn't it?" he sounded sad. "Goodbye, Harriet."
Before she could respond the line went dead. Slowly she put the phone down. Talking to him was ... strange. They were not close at all but sometimes ... it seemed they understood each other better than the rest of the whole world would ever be able to do.
She had nearly called him when she learned about her pregnancy. She had been so happy, so upset and at the same time scared to death. After that horrible year with Bud's injury, his fight back to life, back to work ... she had been sure she would never stand the loss of another baby. The need to call him had surprised her. In the end she hadn't but just because she'd had no phone number.
Harriet rocked her son gently. He was no substitute for her little Sarah. Of course not! A few days ago she had visited her grave. While she had been standing there she had realized that the pain inside was still there, yes - but over the last years it had faded little by little, to a point where it was bearable. Yes, he had been right. She had gone through hell but in the end it was true what they said: Time was a great healer.
Harriet looked at the phone once more and sighed. She had never talked about that day at the cemetery - not even to Bud. Oh, he had never asked her to keep it a secret but somehow ... it had always ... seemed to be the right thing to do. It was something special just between the two of them. Well, and AJ but it was very unlikely that her first son remembered anything ... except for the cake maybe.
She settled back, still holding her son tightly in her arms and remembered. That day. That day at the cemetery...
FLASHBACK
- Arlington cemetery, Sunday afternoon, two years ago
Harriet Roberts stood motionless in front of the grave of her little daughter. The daughter she would never see playing, laughing or crying. The daughter she would never see growing up. The daughter she had never been allowed to hold for one brief moment.
Harriet pressed her hands together. A small part of herself was wondering how much it still hurt. More than half a year had passed since that horrible day. It was supposed to get better as time goes by. They kept telling her so, didn't they? That time was going to heal every wound. Then why was it still hurting so bad, so sharp?
'Oh God, Sarah, Sarah, my darling. It hurts, it still hurts so badly.'
She sighed and turned at the wailing sound behind her. Her little son had thrown his teddy bear out of the stroller and wasn't able to reach it now. Harriet picked up the toy, dusted off the fur and gave the teddy back into the longing arms of her son. She ran her fingers through the boy's hair what he answered with an unwilling headshake.
After one last look back to the simple gravestone she pushed the stroller back to the path and walked slowly in the direction of the exit. Looking straight ahead she tried to fight against the tears welling up in her eyes. She had to be strong. Strong for her son. Strong for Bud. Strong for herself.
Once she had given into her weakness and had gone to Commander Rabb. And she had hurt Bud with it. She didn't want to hurt him again. But, God, sometimes it seemed to tear her up, to strangle her, to...
She felt the first tear on her cheek and lifted the hand to wipe it off. But it was too late. A sob shook her and she pressed the hand on her mouth, tried to stifle the sound. She barley managed the few steps to the next bench before her inner walls collapsed. She buried her face in her hands and cried. Cried for Sarah, cried for Bud and cried for herself. Later she wasn't able to tell how long she sat like that, crying her heart out. But it took a long time until she calmed down enough to catch a full breath again.
Somebody cleared his throat in front of her.
It was a male voice.
Startled Harriet took her head out of her hands. Neat fingers offered a handkerchief as white as snow. She lifted her head a little bit more and looked into the face of Clayton Webb. Her cheeks started to burn.
Webb said nothing. He just offered her the handkerchief again in a more emphatic gesture. Speechless for the moment she took it and dabbed ineffectively at her face. But still she wasn't able to stop the damned tears from falling. For one more moment the man just stood in front of her then he sat down quietly. And in silence he kept a polite distance to her side, waiting patiently for the sobs to subside.
Harriet felt like a complete fool. She tried to sit straight, took her shoulders back and blew her nose. The next second she wanted to kick herself. Heavens, it was his handkerchief! Again she felt her face burning with embarrassment. She didn't dare to look at him.
"Harriet, that's what it's made for." A hint of amusement was in his voice.
'Oh God, I must pull myself together!' She forced herself to lift her head and dabbed one last time at her wet cheeks. She groaned inwardly. She wasn't one of those women who could cry in beauty. Not that she wanted to impress the man next to her or fell for the illusion she could do so. Somebody of his social rank with - what had the Commander called it? Old Money? - and what was more, working for the CIA ... She wished she could just disappear.
"Better?" Webb asked softly. She had never heard him talk like that before.
She swallowed hard, tightened her fist around the handkerchief and nodded.
"Yes. Yes, thank you. It's better now. I'm all right." It was a lie. She knew that. But she had to be strong.
"No, you're not." It was a statement and not a question.
Surprised Harriet looked into his eyes and he held her gaze calm and steady. After a few seconds she broke the contact. What could she say? Of course she wasn't all right. Maybe she would never be again. She looked down at the handkerchief in her hands and asked herself what she should do next. Give it back to him, say thank you and walk away? Keep it and walk away? Stay put until he was going to leave? Stay put until the end of days? Great possibilities. She heard something like a sigh.
"Come on, Harriet. Let's have a cup of coffee." He got up.
She just stared. His face revealed nothing.
"Coffee, Harriet. Don't worry - I'll eat neither you nor your son."
With a start she turned her head to Little-AJ whose silence was absolutely unnatural. Relieved she found him sound asleep. She hesitated for a moment then got up herself. She didn't know why Webb had made his offer. But she was exhausted and still upset and definitely in no condition to drive home right now. Suddenly coffee sounded like a pretty good idea.
- A café near the cemetery, half an hour later
The waiter arrived and quickly set their order on the table. A coffee with whipped cream for Harriet, a piece of cake for Little-AJ and a cup of tea for Clayton Webb. His choice had surprised her and she hadn't been able to resist asking for the reason.
Why tea, Mister Webb?
Sometimes you need a change, Harriet. Besides, yesterday I was stuck in a meeting nearly all day long. I can't stand the taste of coffee right now.
And that had ended the conversation at this point.
Then Harriet had left AJ with Webb for a visit to the toilette and a little freshening up. She had almost laughed at the sight of the two of them eying each other suspiciously when she had returned. But just almost.
Anyway, she felt definitely better now but it had been impossible to mask her swollen eyes completely. She poured some sugar into her cup. Webb shook his head when she offered him the bowl and inspected his teabag instead. He started to play with its cord.
Harriet watched the whipped cream melt into the coffee. She didn't know what to say and obviously he didn't know either. Suddenly she remembered the fact that he had never given her any condolences after Baby Sarah's death. Neither had he said anything to Bud, as far as she knew. She thought back to their first conversation not long after her return to work. At that time Commander Rabb had called Webb almost daily to ask for news about Sergei. Or better: To ask for not existing news.
Judge Advocate General, Lieutenant Roberts speaking. Can I help you?
Webb. Where's the Commander?
Commander Rabb is in a meeting. Can I take a message, Mister Webb?
Tell him the answers to his questions are: Yes - yes - yes - yes - and no.
I ... uhm ... Yes, Mister Webb.
Good. - KLICK -
It had been so short after Sarah ... She forced herself to drop the thought. Again she felt tears stinging in her eyes.
"It's going to be a little bit better. Time heals every wound ... at least up to a point."
Webb's voice startled her. And suddenly a wave of fury rushed over her. They kept saying that. All people kept saying that. Who gave them the right to do so? They didn't feel what she was feeling. They couldn't.
"How on earth you want to know that?" she hissed angrily. She wanted to lash out, to hurt somebody, to let them feel her pain. He looked up and met her furious eyes. Just for a second, then he dropped his gaze and stirred slowly in his cup.
And in this short moment she saw it.
Her mouth fell open but she didn't notice it. Floored by the realization. Stunned by this unexpected discovery. And ashamed down to the bones.
He knew how it was. He knew it the only way someone could really know it. The only way you could really understand ... understand this pain beyond anything bearable. This pain she had recognized in his eyes.
"I ... I didn't ... I had no clue..." she stammered. She couldn't help it. Her head seemed so empty and filled with confusion at the same time.
"I don't talk about it very often." Webb's voice was calm. Controlled. And a little bit tired. He concentrated on his cup and avoided eye contact.
"How...? When...?" She bit her lips. He shook his head almost imperceptible. He fished the teabag out of the cup and placed it on the saucer.
"I'm sorry." It was so insufficient. She had hated those words but what else could she say. He lifted his head but still avoided her eyes.
"Don't, Harriet. Don't do to me what you can't bear yourself."
His understanding left her speechless.
Webb frowned. He tilted his head and a small ironical smile played around his lips.
"I guess I would have been a terrible father anyway," he added quietly.
Confused she followed his gaze and groaned. She had forgotten an important thing: The result every time her son got near a spoon and a piece of cake. As usual it was a total mess.
"Oh, AJ!" She took the spoon out of the boy's hand, brushed most crumbs off him and the table - thank God, they were sitting outside - and started to feed him the rest of the destroyed cake. A stifled laugh caused her to turn around.
"I'm sorry. But to see this in combination with the name AJ..." Webb covered his mouth with his hand.
It took Harriet a few heartbeats to understand the context then she giggled too. To imagine: Her harsh CO Admiral AJ Chegwidden in front of a plate like this and the cake smeared all over his face... Little-AJ protested loud as his mother nearly dropped the spoon in laughter. All grown-ups seemed to be crazy today.
Harriet wiped the tears off her face. Good tears this time. She calmed the boy down and took a couple of sips of her coffee. Webb went back to silence although she felt his observing eyes on her. None of them broke the silence until they had finished and he paid. Together they stepped out of the café.
"Thanks for the invitation. I'm all right now." Harriet felt shy as they stood there. His gaze examined her closely. Finally he nodded, smiled briefly and started to leave. She called him back after a few steps.
"Mister Webb?"
He turned around and raised his brows. "Yes?"
"It's kind of learning by doing."
He looked slightly confused. "Pardon?"
"I think you would be a good father."
He was silent for an eternity. She couldn't read his mind. Then he smiled at something. Maybe at himself.
"Thanks, Harriet."
He walked away without looking back. But she did.
END FLASHBACK
- The Roberts' house
Harriet caressed her son's face gently. That day at the cemetery had taught her more about Clayton Webb than she had learned in all the years before it. She wondered not for the first time if he had told the Colonel of his dead child yet. But it was his decision. And meanwhile she would handle it as a secret between the two of them.