Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.
August 2007, Saturday
- Webb residence, Virginia, early morning
Mac quickly finished tying her sneakers which she always kept in her bag and quietly opened the door of her room. A moment she looked the corridor up and down before she turned towards the stairs. Three years ago during her - her affair with Clay she had never entered the house of Webb's youth ... not until the very end. He had never really offered and she had never really asked ... or wanted to ask. The idea of coming here had ... intimidated her. Or maybe the prospect of meeting Porter Webb.
From all she had heard the composed old lady - of best old east coast breed - had had to be so different than her own mother. So ... different. So full of control - a quality the woman who had left her behind as a child had lacked ... and sometimes she too. Everything about her - her style, her casual elegance, her wealth - whatever Mac had seen, peering around the corner so to speak, had reminded her of the things she simply wasn't in her own eyes despite the façade she presented the world. She had felt smaller in comparison with Porter Webb. A feeling she had never liked and - as she had to admit - that often led to overreactions from her side.
Mac sighed involuntarily. Yes, maybe she had thought that Porter Webb would have looked down on her because of her heritage, her upbringing, her sometimes really screwed up life ... that she would have considered her unworthy of her son. She had been sure of it after she had finally met her, first grieving over Webb's supposed death then searching for him.
The other woman had been so polite. So reasonable. And had lied with each word directly into her face.
God, she had been so angry afterwards. After she had found out that it had all been a set up, all a lie. Angry at Webb, angry at his mother, Kershaw, the world... Angry and hurt.
But now ... maybe it had been she who had interpreted things the wrong way. Time and distance had given her much opportunity to think things over. To divide her pain and ... yes, all right, her wounded pride from the facts as they were. She couldn't deny that those lies had saved Clay's life up to the point where she had stepped in. That SHE had led Tanveer to his hiding place and almost got him killed. It didn't justify his - their - actions towards her. Their lack of trust. But maybe it explained them. It surely explained Porter Webb's. She was his mother. And mothers tended to do anything to keep their children safe.
Mac paused with one hand on the rail and stared at the opposite wall. Strange, but somehow she would welcome an opportunity to talk to the other woman one more time. Just to find out what had been real and what imagination.
Shaking herself out of her dark thoughts Mac walked quietly downstairs. She was glad about her former CO's suggestion to go jogging first thing in the morning. Although it had nearly floored her. Admiral AJ Chegwidden spent the night in the same house as Clayton Webb - voluntarily? And obviously not for the first time? That had been a shock!
And not the only one of the evening. Dinner had been ... strange. She didn't know how one was supposed to act around a former lover - considering a relationship that was how it was and ended ... like it did? Including screaming and a slap across the face? She didn't know what she had expected. Uncomfortable silence maybe. Unspoken accusations. Or open arguments as with Harm. But definitely not Clayton Webb playing host in cool composure and polite manner. On the other hand ... why not? Webb had never been predictable. He had accepted her decision to end their relationship, had not once tried to change her mind afterwards, had Harm forbidden to tell her about him... And maybe he was right. Maybe it was better for both of them to forget that this year had ever existed.
"Good morning ... Mac," Chegwidden greeted her at the bottom of the stairs. He held the door open for her.
"Good morning, sir ... I mean AJ." Never she had got comfortable with using his first name. But neither had any of the others who had known him as their CO - a constant joke at Bud and Harriet's yearly Christmas parties.
As they stepped outside the morning air hit them like a sticky towel. Temperatures barely went down in the night these days nevertheless this early hour was the only time when physical exercise was at least bearable. Chegwidden nodded to the left, starting slowly and Mac followed his lead. Immediately sweat was soaking their light clothes. Their feet pounded on the ground. Almost naturally they found a mutual rhythm and Mac finally relaxed somewhat. It had been a long time since they had been running together - training for the Jag-a-thon - but it still felt good. Familiar. In a way like coming home.
The first two miles passed in silence. Every now and then she cast a quick glance at her former CO, breathing easily and obviously in extraordinary good shape for a man of his age. Nevertheless, she couldn't help noticing the pronounced lines in his face, the spots on his skin or the veins sticking out on his still muscular arms. And she felt somewhat disturbed by the sudden realization that he wouldn't live forever. She took a quick breath.
"Sir - AJ? May I ask you a question? Do you think I should have taken those letters more seriously?"
Chegwidden kept his eyes on the road ahead. "As I said yesterday: That's always a difficult decision, Mac. Normally we - you try to keep things like that under the hat. If you make a great fuss about it some idiots only use it as a courage test. Any case has to be and is cleared up of course. So far anyone responsible has found out that it was a really bad idea. But ... well, you keep these things quiet. Unfortunately you're always in danger of missing a serious threat. It's difficult."
Mac thought about that for some time while they moved on. "Being a full-time judge has quite some aspects I never considered."
"That's what makes life interesting: You never know what to expect."
"Oh, yes, you never know what to expect." Mac heard the bitterness in her own voice. "I could easily live without that. I guess Clay would have too."
AJ glanced at her. "Probably." Suddenly he slowed down to a normal walk. "I guess we have some things to talk about, Mac."
Mac fell into step beside him. "I - I would appreciate it, sir - AJ. I ... didn't want to ask last night at the table. And just by the way, thank you for doing most of the conversation. Uhm, I mean not that it wasn't interesting to hear about your baseball teams..."
"I got the point, Mac. You're welcome." And with a sigh: "Nobody has ever claimed that Webb is easy to handle."
They walked some minutes in silence.
"I've got to admit I'm a bit ... surprised," Mac finally started again. "When did you and Clay become so..."
"Cozy?"
"I - uh - uhm..." Mac couldn't help laughing nervously at Chegwidden's sarcastic suggestion.
"It's all Tim's fault."
"Sir?"
"Tim Fawkes. An old friend of mine. And of Webb."
"Sir?" Mac repeated confused. "You and Clay ... have got the same friend?"
"Oh, I didn't know it either until we had to rescue him out of the hands of some Italian terrorists about eight years ago." AJ noticed the look she was giving him. "I guess I never mentioned that, did I?"
"No... And Clay didn't either."
"Yeah, if Webb knows one thing then how to keep his mouth shut... As long as he wants to." Chegwidden sighed and stopped, putting his hands on his hips. For a second he seemed to mull something over then shrugged. "It was the year after my retirement. Ben, a boy in one of the baseball teams I started coaching, had managed to fall off his bike and break his leg. November, leaves on the ground, juvenile miscalculation ... the usual story. I visited him in the hospital to see how he was doing. I was just about to go back to my car when I saw Tim entering the cafeteria ... so I followed him. He then told me that Webb had had an accident the evening before."
Mac watched his eyes wander past her, lost in thought and she made no move to interrupt him. Finally he shook his head.
"It looked really bad. Webb couldn't have picked a worse place to run off the road. It had taken them hours to cut him out of the car and he was in surgery most of the remaining night and into the morning. He was still unconscious that afternoon and he didn't come to for two more days. But he clung to his life. Dear Lord, yes, he fought for it."
"Oh, God." Mac barely whispered. She swallowed, trying to gather her thoughts. "Harm... Harm said it happened because ... Clay was overtired and fell asleep behind the steering wheel." She glanced at her former CO. "He said that's all Clayton told him."
"That's all there is."
"Sir, with all due respect, it's kind of hard to believe. I mean considering Clay's job? He - he made a lot of enemies; there had been a price on his head..."
"You're not the only one to think like that. Believe me, the Agency left no stone unturned. They took the wreck of his car down screw by screw. But there was simply no evidence for ANY kind of manipulation or that any other car was near him when it happened... No drugs, no alcohol, nothing. And Webb only remembers getting in the car but he can't even recall leaving the parking lot because his head injuries caused partial amnesia." Chegwidden heaved another sigh. "No, Mac. He was tired, he wasn't thinking straight, his reactions were handicapped. He knew the road but it was dark and maybe he drove too fast. He lost control. Things like that happen. We can just be grateful he didn't take anybody with him off the road."
Mac closed her eyes and nodded slowly. As if she didn't know how easily it happened. As if she didn't know how lucky she had been.
"It wasn't like I could have walked away after I had learned about it and so I - well - stayed," AJ continued slowly after a while. "It was terrible at first. Webb went from one depression to the other. Either tried too hard or not at all. Exploded at nothing or didn't speak a word for days. The doctors called it 'normal reactions' to such a traumatic experience and who am I to object... But I can't count how often I simply wanted to strangle him - the only thing he never lost was his sharp tongue." A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"I can really imagine that," Mac shook her head. Then she clenched her fists in sudden anger. "Why didn't you tell me, AJ? Why did you never tell me? We have seen each other at least once a year since it happened why did you never tell me about it? Why not even a hint?"
"And then?" AJ asked tiredly. "What would you have done? Run to his side? Mac, you were married..."
"Nevertheless, it should have been my decision!"
"Wasn't it his?"
For a heartbeat Mac just stared at Chegwidden as if she saw him the first time in her life. Then she spun around, unable to face him any longer, unable to hold his firm gaze as the full meaning of his last words sank in. Webb hadn't wanted her to know. Not Chegwidden. Webb. Clayton. Again.
Silently watching the woman who had been under his command for eight years AJ could see the confusion radiating from her. Could see her pain so evident in her nervous movements, in the way she ran shaking fingers through her hair and not for the first time he cursed Webb's request. His voice was almost soft.
"Mac, it was already hard enough: Not only he would spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair but it was a fact that he had done this to himself. It had been his own damn fault."
Mac's shoulders tensed even more and Chegwidden barely suppressed another sigh. Why had things to be so complicated around here? For long minutes none of them spoke. Finally AJ brushed sweat off his face and started again.
"Porter kept him going. And boy, the woman really knew - knows how to push Clay's buttons. I've seen a lot in my life and always thought I and Marcella have been bad but when these two went at each other ... the rest dove for cover."
"Porter and Clay?" Somewhat stunned Mac turned back around. "I would never have thought they could exchange a harsh word. I always pictured them being so ... almost awfully intimate."
Chegwidden snorted. "Yeah, they really fooled anybody with their cozy 'Yes, mother, no mother' or 'If you want that, dear'. Harrison said it was seldom that they actually had arguments before the accident ... but when they did they fought tooth and nail." He chuckled then grew serious again. "As I've said Porter kept him going. And after he had finally accepted what had happened - as far as anyone can ever accept something like that - Clay improved steadily. He was almost bearable again. Well, not that he had ever been in the past."
Mac smiled faintly at the thin joke although she felt more like crying.
"And then Porter had a stroke last year ... and shortly after a second one. It was the first time..." Chegwidden paused. Mac looked up but waited in silence until he had worked out his words. The former admiral rubbed a hand across his mouth. "It was the first time we actually thought we might lose him. Despite his behavior he had never really wanted to give up. In his heart he's as much a survivor as a certain aviator we both know. But to lose Porter... After the second stroke she wasn't able to speak, no one knew if she recognized anybody around her. I guess we were all afraid it might shatter him completely. Instead ... he somehow drew strength from it. He took his life in his own hands again, finally. It still was - and is - a sometimes bumpy ride but ... he's getting along."
"Oh, he would never disappoint his mother by just giving up." Mac laughed shortly and she didn't know herself if it was wryly amused or bitter. "He told me in Paraguay she would never forgive him if he died first."
"Well, I sure got to know Porter as a woman with strict principles," AJ commented mildly. "As hard to herself as to others. And definitely not easy to understand."
Mac met his eyes then looked away, blushing like a scolded schoolgirl. After some time she cleared her throat.
"I just don't understand why ... why..."
Chegwidden read her mind. "Why Porter is not in private care at home?"
Mac nodded and blushed even more. AJ made a face.
"Well, because they had obviously discussed possibilities a long time ago in their disturbingly pragmatic manner. Porter was always afraid of becoming a roadblock in her son's life when getting older. Besides ... I don't think he could afford it at the moment. Porter needs constant support and medical attention the costs of private care would be astronomical. Harrison is not getting younger, Clay is not able to do it himself and considering how much they spent for his treatments, the remodeling of the house, therapies..."
He paused a second and gave Mac a look.
"Don't get me wrong, I would still be glad to have his funds and he lives on a higher standard than many other people, including horses and all that ... although I guess he would rather sell the house than his horses. But nevertheless, it was a lot of money and he's not earning as much as he used to. He's sensible enough to know that he has to be careful and plan ahead for the future. Sometimes I wish he would at least consider arguing with the insurance companies but his refusal to do so is probably some weird kind of self-punishment."
In mutual understanding they started walking again. Mac slowly shook her head as she tried to get some order into her tumbling thoughts. Three years. Only three short years but it seemed to have been a lifetime considering how much had happened. How much had changed.
"You should have told me," she said finally. "HE should have told me. I should have... We - we had been friends, we had been ... more. There must have been something I could have done."
"Have you ever tried to contact him after you moved out? After you got divorced?"
Mac drew in a shuddering breath. She hadn't. She hadn't dared. What would that have made her? A cold-calculating witch? A wimp? How should she have looked in his eyes ... after what had happened between them? After what had been?
"You got me there."
"It wasn't an accusation, Mac," AJ corrected softly. "It's an explanation."
Mac grimaced. "We are very much alike sometimes, aren't we? From time to time I wished Harm and I would have been like that."
Chegwidden looked skywards where the sun had already started burning. "Mac... I know it's none of my business but I must admit I always wondered ... what went wrong between you and Rabb."
Mac's smile was bittersweet. She avoided her former CO's eyes.
"If I only knew. Maybe... The one thing Harm and I were and have always been best at was fighting. With ourselves, against each other or together against the world. But one morning I woke up and ... was tired of fighting."
She wasn't sure if she really heard the man at her side mutter: "Rabb has always been a fool when it came to you."
Mac ran her hands through her hair and held her face in the sun, drinking in the heat and letting it burn away the old, familiar pain. Again a bittersweet smile touched her lips. No, it had not only been Harm's fault. She had been right there at his side the entire way, through fights and accusations, wrong expectations and bitter disappointment. And it had been her decision to end it for the sake of both of them. Her responsibility. As it had been with Clay.
"Mac ... if I can do anything..." Chegwidden hesitated.
This time Mac's smile was honest. "You have already done so much for me ... AJ. More than I deserve. And I want to thank you that you told me all these things about Clay. I ... don't want to hurt him with a careless remark. I ... I don't want to hurt him. I..." She shrugged. "So often have you been there for me when I needed advice or ... or a friend. Thank you for ... being a friend."
And just because she knew him so well she caught him smiling quickly in his typical manner.
"You know ... we were worried about you," she continued tentatively. "Just before ... your retirement. You were behaving a bit ... odd."
"Well, there were ... many problems." Chegwidden looked down. His face hardened.
Mac waited some seconds then probed carefully: "Meredith?"
"Among other things."
They walked in silence.
"Sheffield."
"Sheffield?"
Chegwidden grimaced. "I considered Nelson to be a difficult SecNav but Sheffield was ... oil on steel. Nelson I could handle. Sheffield was too much politician. Fighting in another league. I was too old to put up with that. I was ... tired. And yes, there was Meredith." Taking a deep breath he stopped again, causing Mac to do the same. "And you and Rabb."
"We, sir?"
"One hour, Mac. I was checking something out and... One more hour and I would have let Rabb go down to Paraguay with or without the information. He would even have been on the same flight. But he couldn't wait. He didn't trust me. He..."
Mac didn't know what to say.
Chegwidden pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, shook his head. "I was so darn angry at him. I was so..."
"Nevertheless, you took him back," Mac said softly after a short silence. "Although he really didn't make it easy for you."
"Yes." AJ huffed at the memory. "God, I was one inch from letting him sit there in his darn self-righteousness and do crop-dusting for the rest of his life." He glanced at Mac. "I guess I don't like being wrong. I guess I don't take it well."
"AJ..."
Chegwidden looked up at the sky and then down at his watch. "We better get going. Or Clayton will send the cavalry after us."
For a moment Mac stared somewhat incredulously at his back as he turned abruptly and started down the road. Then she snorted a laugh and followed him.
Men.
