Title: Just to Talk XVII
Author: Nan
Author's notes - This is a little side conversation to wrap up a small detail. The main story comes again soon.
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2129 Zulu
Security Check, International Pier
BWI Airport, Baltimore MD
Harm grabbed his keys, cell and loose change from the grey Rubbermaid bucket at the end of the security table. Jamming all but the cell back to the pocket of his leather jacket, he watched as his overnight bag emerged from the scanner. Just enough time to check on Mattie. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he walked toward his gate and concentrated as he started to dial the number.
He suddenly sensed someone standing directly in his path. As he looked up, he heard a familiar voice.
"Careful, Rabb," said Clayton Webb. "You almost ran me over."
For a split second, Harm felt off balance. Webb was the last person he expected to run into. In fact, he hadn't seen the man since that fateful conversation with Catherine in the hospital room in June.
There was no evidence of travel or trip on Webb's person. No briefcase or overnight bag. Harm knew this was not a chance meeting.
Harm quickly regained composure. "Webb," he said casually. "Long time no see."
He nodded slightly. "Can I interest you in a latte?" he asked, gesturing to the Starbucks stand nearby.
Harm studied him out of the corner of his eye. Harm could summarize his feelings towards Clay with one word. Suspicion. Which was sad because at one time, he counted on Clay as one of his closest friends. But time, Paraguay, the CIA and Mac had all managed to destroy that. Why should he talk with the man now?
But, by nature Harm was not one to hold a grudge. Besides, in the abnormal relationship between the two, he owed Webb about as much as Webb owed him. That at least deserved a conversation. He nodded slightly and said, "Sure, why not?"
As he followed him toward a small café table, Harm sighed. Mac was the only true barrier between them. If only...
"So what can I do for you?" Harm said slowly as Webb placed two small lattes on the table.
"I hear you didn't have to quit this time," he said. Harm felt Webb's eyes on him.
"No. Lucky that, I guess," he replied, picking his words carefully.
"Well, there are no terrorists, no South American republic, no State department officials getting upset about this one," he said. "This is easy."
Harm didn't have time for this. "Look, Clay, say what you're going to say. I've got a plane to catch. If you've something to say about Mac, than just say it." He started to stand but Clay put out his hand to stop him.
"Sit down. I'm not here to start a fight about Sarah."
"Then why are you here?" Harm reluctantly sat back on the chair. He felt like hitting Webb every time he heard the word 'Sarah.' "By the way, she told me that it was over between you."
"It is over. You think I'd come here to beg for Sarah from you? Think again, Rabb."
"Why are you here then, Clay?" Harm kept a tight rein on his emotion.
"I felt we needed to talk about a few things," he said slowly.
"Such as?"
"Paraguay. I never held the same optimism that Sarah has about escaping from Sadik's compound. Without you, we both would have died there. And not very pleasantly." He met Harm's stare unflinching.
"Yeah. I could tell you were appreciative. Your gratitude at the time was overwhelming."
"Look, I'm trying to thank you."
"Well, I can think of a better ways to demonstrate this."
"Instead of stealing Sarah from you, Harm? Look, considering the number of years you two have worked together, maybe you could have made your move before now? It's not like you're shy or anything. Sorry if I didn't catch the exact moment the light finally went on in your head. I was little preoccupied at the time."
Harm slouched imperceptibly in the small chair and stared at his cup. How true was that? He had been such as idiot for years and when he decided it was finally time, he had expected everyone would step aside.
Webb cleared his throat. "You know and after all that, Sarah still loves you. So go ahead. Make your move Harm."
Harm blew out a breath he was holding. "I'm sorry, Clay. For all that has happened."
"Look, Harm, if I thought I could, I wouldn't stop for a minute to take her away from you. So treat her well."
They were both silent for while. "You okay, Clay?" asked Harm looking at the man. There were circles under his eyes.
Webb shook his head. "Remember years ago when we talked about Clark Palmer putting you into the 'Wilderness of Mirrors?' When old spooks get so psyched out by what they've been through, that they can't shake it? They're always looking behind their backs, wondering who's after them this time?"
"Sure," said Harm, studying the man's downcast face carefully.
"Well, you've gotta give Sarah credit. She is one tough marine. One way or another she is going to make it out of this thing and back to her real life," said Clay. All of a sudden, he looked up and met Harm's eyes. "Not me."
Harm felt a shock go through him. He said slowly, "What's wrong?"
"The standard stuff. Abusing alcohol, insomnia, obsessive behaviors." Harm could see that he was thinner.
"You can get help, Clay," Concern for his old friend was starting to replace his long held anger.
"Sure I can. And I've had some. But like Sarah found out, you've got to find your own way out of the wilderness of mirrors."
Harm heard the overhead speaker call his flight. Reluctantly, he stood up. "Clay. It's time for me to go. But if you ever..."
Webb looked at him. There was a slight glaze to his eyes that made them shiny under the bright lights of the departure pier. "Get going. Good luck, Harm," he said.
Author: Nan
Author's notes - This is a little side conversation to wrap up a small detail. The main story comes again soon.
************************
2129 Zulu
Security Check, International Pier
BWI Airport, Baltimore MD
Harm grabbed his keys, cell and loose change from the grey Rubbermaid bucket at the end of the security table. Jamming all but the cell back to the pocket of his leather jacket, he watched as his overnight bag emerged from the scanner. Just enough time to check on Mattie. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he walked toward his gate and concentrated as he started to dial the number.
He suddenly sensed someone standing directly in his path. As he looked up, he heard a familiar voice.
"Careful, Rabb," said Clayton Webb. "You almost ran me over."
For a split second, Harm felt off balance. Webb was the last person he expected to run into. In fact, he hadn't seen the man since that fateful conversation with Catherine in the hospital room in June.
There was no evidence of travel or trip on Webb's person. No briefcase or overnight bag. Harm knew this was not a chance meeting.
Harm quickly regained composure. "Webb," he said casually. "Long time no see."
He nodded slightly. "Can I interest you in a latte?" he asked, gesturing to the Starbucks stand nearby.
Harm studied him out of the corner of his eye. Harm could summarize his feelings towards Clay with one word. Suspicion. Which was sad because at one time, he counted on Clay as one of his closest friends. But time, Paraguay, the CIA and Mac had all managed to destroy that. Why should he talk with the man now?
But, by nature Harm was not one to hold a grudge. Besides, in the abnormal relationship between the two, he owed Webb about as much as Webb owed him. That at least deserved a conversation. He nodded slightly and said, "Sure, why not?"
As he followed him toward a small café table, Harm sighed. Mac was the only true barrier between them. If only...
"So what can I do for you?" Harm said slowly as Webb placed two small lattes on the table.
"I hear you didn't have to quit this time," he said. Harm felt Webb's eyes on him.
"No. Lucky that, I guess," he replied, picking his words carefully.
"Well, there are no terrorists, no South American republic, no State department officials getting upset about this one," he said. "This is easy."
Harm didn't have time for this. "Look, Clay, say what you're going to say. I've got a plane to catch. If you've something to say about Mac, than just say it." He started to stand but Clay put out his hand to stop him.
"Sit down. I'm not here to start a fight about Sarah."
"Then why are you here?" Harm reluctantly sat back on the chair. He felt like hitting Webb every time he heard the word 'Sarah.' "By the way, she told me that it was over between you."
"It is over. You think I'd come here to beg for Sarah from you? Think again, Rabb."
"Why are you here then, Clay?" Harm kept a tight rein on his emotion.
"I felt we needed to talk about a few things," he said slowly.
"Such as?"
"Paraguay. I never held the same optimism that Sarah has about escaping from Sadik's compound. Without you, we both would have died there. And not very pleasantly." He met Harm's stare unflinching.
"Yeah. I could tell you were appreciative. Your gratitude at the time was overwhelming."
"Look, I'm trying to thank you."
"Well, I can think of a better ways to demonstrate this."
"Instead of stealing Sarah from you, Harm? Look, considering the number of years you two have worked together, maybe you could have made your move before now? It's not like you're shy or anything. Sorry if I didn't catch the exact moment the light finally went on in your head. I was little preoccupied at the time."
Harm slouched imperceptibly in the small chair and stared at his cup. How true was that? He had been such as idiot for years and when he decided it was finally time, he had expected everyone would step aside.
Webb cleared his throat. "You know and after all that, Sarah still loves you. So go ahead. Make your move Harm."
Harm blew out a breath he was holding. "I'm sorry, Clay. For all that has happened."
"Look, Harm, if I thought I could, I wouldn't stop for a minute to take her away from you. So treat her well."
They were both silent for while. "You okay, Clay?" asked Harm looking at the man. There were circles under his eyes.
Webb shook his head. "Remember years ago when we talked about Clark Palmer putting you into the 'Wilderness of Mirrors?' When old spooks get so psyched out by what they've been through, that they can't shake it? They're always looking behind their backs, wondering who's after them this time?"
"Sure," said Harm, studying the man's downcast face carefully.
"Well, you've gotta give Sarah credit. She is one tough marine. One way or another she is going to make it out of this thing and back to her real life," said Clay. All of a sudden, he looked up and met Harm's eyes. "Not me."
Harm felt a shock go through him. He said slowly, "What's wrong?"
"The standard stuff. Abusing alcohol, insomnia, obsessive behaviors." Harm could see that he was thinner.
"You can get help, Clay," Concern for his old friend was starting to replace his long held anger.
"Sure I can. And I've had some. But like Sarah found out, you've got to find your own way out of the wilderness of mirrors."
Harm heard the overhead speaker call his flight. Reluctantly, he stood up. "Clay. It's time for me to go. But if you ever..."
Webb looked at him. There was a slight glaze to his eyes that made them shiny under the bright lights of the departure pier. "Get going. Good luck, Harm," he said.