Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

THE PRESENT

"Unpredictable."

"Totally. I mean he probably bent some rules when he let me use his 'official' cell phone. And I didn't even think of asking - not with the chilly atmosphere between us. Took me a long time to realize that he probably had as much difficulties in deciding how he should deal with me as I had the other way round. How he should handle my closeness to Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie."

"Hmm... You didn't tell Mr. Parker that you lost a leg in Afghanistan."

"No. How could I? The man lost his son. What's the loss of a part of my leg in comparison? No. Besides ... I normally consider it an advantage that people don't notice ... IT immediately. Or that I can make them forget about it. They look at me and see a normal guy standing on his own two feet - and if I limp a little they think that I've sprained my ankle or something like that. It ... makes things easier."

"Because you don't have to face the looks or the different behavior most people show around a disabled person?"

"Yes, in a way. The only problem is: As soon as they notice, finally ... or remember again ... those looks hurt even more. It always ... takes you by surprise ... somehow. And most people are not even aware of what they do. Or how easily I can see and place this flicker across their faces."

"Mr. Roberts ... Mr. Webb had never visited you in hospital after your accident, had he? Or acknowledged your handicap in any other way?"

"No. God, I would have fallen out of bed in shock! I have no doubt he knew but we never had ... we never were ... besides, I don't even know where he was at that time. Here in the States or somewhere else on the globe."

"Nevertheless, a visit would have been a nice gesture."

"Yes. It would have been."

"You never visited him in hospital after Paraguay."

"Hmm, no. I guess there are some things both of us can't be very proud of."

"Let's continue with the events of that night. Mr. Parker had offered you a room and... Why are you laughing, Mr. Roberts?"

"Oh, I - I just thought ... I've said it makes things easier if people forget about my leg."

"Yes?"

"It certainly didn't this evening."

THE PAST: January 2005

- A little village in the Appalachian Mountains

Bud rinsed his newly purchased toothbrush and dropped it into the small bag that had come with it. Then he looked at himself in the mirror. The bathroom was tiny and old but as clean and well kept as the rest of the house. And while the rooms the Parker's lived in were smaller than the entire shop and the only part of the house that had two floors a feeling of 'home' seemed to seep out of any corner.

The evening hadn't been half as bad as expected so far. Of course, the old couple had done most of the conversation over the soup Mrs. Parker had prepared as an improvised dinner in their slow, long-winded way and neither Bud nor Webb had had any complaints about that. They wouldn't have known what to say to each other anyway. In fact it had been almost relaxing to sit and listen to the little dramas and stories going on in a small village like this.

Glancing into the sink to make sure he hadn't left a mess Bud put his uniform jacket back on and grabbed his bag. As he opened the door he found Webb standing in the small corridor and talking on his cell phone.

"... fine, yes, I'll call tomorrow as soon as- Yes. Yes. First thing." The spy hung up with a sigh and gave Bud a short look. "You're finally done? Parker wants to show us the room."

Bud bit back any sharp comment that Webb himself hadn't been that much faster in the bathroom and went to get his coat and briefcase from the kitchen. Parker and his wife looked up as he entered the room.

"Ah, young man, you are ready?" The old man started to rise. "Then I'll show you the bed as soon as your friend has finished his phone call. I just told Beth that maybe we should listen to our daughter and get one of those cell phones too. But she's right: maybe we're two too old fools for modern things like that, aren't we?"

"Why would you be too old for a cell phone, sir, ma'am?" Bud felt slightly uneasy about the reference to Webb as his 'friend'. "I'm sure you can find something suitable. And Mister Webb just hung up."

"Oh, good, good. Then let's go and get you in a warm bed, huh? Beth has put up some extra blankets for you; you are not used to our kind of weather, now are you? She has changed the linen too."

Huffing and puffing - although never stopping talking - Parker led the way to a door at the end of the small corridor and up a steep flight of stairs. Bud instantly regretted he hadn't put on his coat too as he started climbing behind Webb. The old man hadn't underestimated: It WAS cold out here. He wouldn't have been surprised to see his own breath.

"... we have put some stuff up here, things we don't need every day, not any more, so it's maybe a little bit untidy." Parker finally reached the top of the stairs and waved his hand. "I hope you don't mind."

"Of course we don't...," Webb paused for a second in the middle of his sentence and his step, almost causing Bud to bump into his back, "... mind."

"What is it?" Bud craned his neck. He gulped nervously as the spy moved out of his view.

There WERE two beds in the room, actually. Two single beds. Two very small single beds. Unfortunately one of them including most of the floor was covered with old things from ragged suitcases over some indefinable metal objects to what seemed to be a stuffed fox. The second bed stood across the room with one of its long sides pushed against the wall so whoever got in first would be trapped by the second. Bud and Webb exchanged a look of slight horror.

"Well, yes, here we are." Unaware of their sudden discomfort the old man scratched his head. "I wish you a good night then, yes I do."

Their smiles were rather forced as they nodded in unison until Parker's head disappeared down the stairs. Then they looked at each other again. No one moved. Downstairs the door fell shut. Wood crackled as a gust of wind hit the roof. In the end it was Webb who pulled himself together first. Stepping up to a small table that had probably served as a desk a long time ago he dropped his things on it with a thud.

"You'll take the wall side of the bed."

"Why me?" Bud blurted out automatically.

Webb gave him a sore look. "You want to discuss it in detail?"

Bud opened his mouth and shut it again. He sighed silently. It wasn't worth it. Besides, it was way too cold. So he simply pulled a chair to the side and gritted his teeth as he undressed as fast as possible, practically jumping into his new pajamas. The daily evening routine of removing his prosthesis, placing it within arm's reach on the floor and checking his stump had become so much part of his live that he had even stopped thinking about it. It wasn't until he had settled under the blankets and looked up with a smirk on his lips that he remembered that it wasn't all that normal to anybody.

"Well, you want to go in second then you'll have to..."

He stopped. Webb was staring at him. An expression of - of what on his face? Shock? Disgust? Pity? Bud didn't need to ask to know what had caused this confusion in the other man's eyes. He swallowed hard and forced himself to finish his sentence.

"... to switch off the light."

Webb inhaled sharply and jerked his head away. For a second he stood rigid - obviously fighting his emotions or maybe to find the right words - but in the end he just turned and headed for the light switch.

Bud slowly unclenched his fists and moved closer to the wall. In the darkness he heard the quick patter of Webb's bare feet on the wooden floor, the soft sound as his hands felt over the bed and was surprised by the sharp stab in the pit of his stomach as he sensed the short pause before the other man crawled under the covers. The old bed groaned and crackled while they tried to arrange in the narrow space without too much physical contact. Any other time the fight for the blankets would have been funny but it wasn't now. A short moment of silence followed. Then Webb sighed annoyed.

"Can't you move closer to the wall? I'm hanging with one shoulder out of bed!"

"I am already PINNED to the wall!" Bud's voice showed all his frustration. "And you are taking the entire blanket."

Again they rustled around, tucking in blankets wherever possible and somehow ended up back to back. The room fell silent again. Although it was a silence filled with the angry howl of the wind outside, the soft sound of snow flinging against the windows and the crackling of wood.

Bud stared into the darkness where the wall had to be. Webb's back was very still against his and he pictured the agent staring out into the dark room to the other side. He suddenly wished Harriet were here.

He missed her. Missed the way her hand would run through his hair just before they would go to sleep. Missed to feel her growing belly under his hands when he said good night to their two unborn children. Sometimes he really wondered what he had done to deserve her. Closing his eyes he recalled their short conversation on the phone, her gentle concern, her assurance that they would be all right. Strange - he hadn't told her that it was Webb who had picked him up in the snow as he realized now. Somehow he had forgotten to mention it. But she had taken the phone to the boys so they had been able to wish him a good night... Smiling he sank deeper under the blankets.

Glass rattled from time to time under the force of the wind. A deep howl kept moving around the house. Bud was dimly aware that he drifted into and out of sleep. The body beside his offered comfortable warmth, reminded him of Harriet's sleeping form at his side. The weather followed him into his dreams where he was on the Seahawk again, rolling hard in the sea, and tried to type something on his computer but the letters kept disappearing no matter how often he wrote them down. Cold jerked him half awake because most of the blankets were gone and he pulled on them causing a muffled complaint. At one point he thought he heard gentle snoring in the beginning silence of a softening storm but wasn't able to decide if it was he or not. He drifted off again, dreaming some weird dream. It had something to do with snow and big eyes full of light staring at him. For a while he tossed and turned without really waking up until he was elbowed in the side. Then he fell back into a peaceful sleep.

Something heavy was pushed around in some distance.

Bud groaned softly. "Hmmm, AJ stop it." He heard Harriet growl barely audible words in a deep voice.

The sound continued.

Bud - used to the morning activities of two lively boys although he wondered in some far corner of his mind what piece of furniture they shoved around this time - rolled over and snuggled closer to the warm body at his side. But he definitely WASN'T used to the way this body jumped as his stump bumped against a thigh ... and the sudden draft of chilly air as the person shot up in bed with a gasp woke him completely.

"Wha-what? Harriet?"

Jerking his eyes open Bud found a sleep tousled but very awake Clayton Webb staring down at him in the grey light that filled the room now. The silence between them was deadly for a second. He felt his cheeks starting to burn.

"Mister - Mister Webb..."

"Roberts - I..."

They stopped at the same time. Looking anywhere but at each other. Finally Webb rubbed his suspiciously dark face with both hands, muttered a muffled "oh, boy" and scrambled out of bed. Bud sat up slowly as the spy peered out of the next window, hugging himself against the cold.

"That - was a snowplow."

"Oh." Bud fiddled with the blanket.

Webb glanced pointedly at his watch and reached for his clothes. He didn't look back. "Almost half past seven. I'll go and check the car."

"Yeah, I'm - I'm coming."

Bud took a deep breath and threw back the blankets. By the time he was tucking his shirt in the other man already walked towards the stairs. And although he was concentrating firmly on his fingers he knew instantly that Webb had paused in front of the first step. Gulping nervously he lifted his head.

Their eyes met.

Then Webb pressed his lips together and walked downstairs. Sitting back for a moment Bud ran a hand through his hair and sighed.