CHAPTER 2

May 20, 2006
13:00 EST

The service was beautiful. Isn't that what you say at a funeral to make the bereft feel better? Mac had heard it at least a dozen times today, so it must have been true. As beautiful as burying a loved one can be at least. Military funerals always were a spectacular sight, this one made all the more vivid against the vibrant blue sky, dotted occasionally with a few fluffy clouds, and lush spring green grass. All the men and woman in flawless uniform, the stunning array of flowers, deep reds and blues, bright whites, small splashes of pink and yellow. Harriet had been meticulous when picking which of the hundreds of arrangements that had been arriving at the funeral home would be accompanying them to Arlington that day. The bright, colorful display would seem almost lively and cheerful if it wasn't working as a backdrop for the object of everyone's attention at the moment…the flag draped coffin. So, she supposed she could see where people would think of the service as beautiful. It was nothing less than what AJ Chegwidden deserved.

It all actually elapsed more quickly than Mac would have expected. The admiral, being the humble person he was, asked for as simple a service as one could get by with when receiving full military honors. No one but Chaplain Tuner spoke. The only truly poignant moment happened right after everyone was seated. Little AJ, nearly breaking her heart, walked up to the casket and presented a perfect salute. He then turned and ran back toward the chairs. Instead of his own seat however, he hoisted himself up onto his Aunt Mac's lap, where he remained, quiet and somber, through the rest of the service…the beautiful service that was now over.

Looking around from her seat, with her godson still perched on her knees, she took note that the last of the mourners were starting to gather themselves to leave. Jennifer Coates and Mike Roberts were talking with Varese and Sturgis Turner. Jen's eyes were practically swollen shut. The young petty officer always did wear her heart on her sleeve. Jason Tiner was telling Victor Galindez all about being the newest lawyer at JAG and the difficulties of having a Marine as your CO, giving the gunny a reason to smile despite the sadness in the eyes of both men. Mac cringed when she looked beyond the men and noticed General Creswell standing right out of Tiner's line of sight. He was not, however, out of earshot. She also noticed that Gunny saw this as well, but made no move to shut Tiner up. In fact, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying watching his friend continue to put his foot in his mouth.
'Boy', thought Mac, 'poor Tiner's going to be tasting shoe leather for a week…his and the General's.'

She scanned the crowd until she found Harm discussing something with Bud and Harriet. Mac was glad they hadn't called her over to join them. She was more than happy to simply sit with Little AJ while his young mind processed all that he had seen and heard today. Harm would fill her in later on what was discussed in her absence. Occasionally, Harriet would glance their way, ever the concerned mother, to make sure her son was still handling things okay. Mac was somewhat amused to notice that Harm was doing the exact same thing, only his eyes focused on her, not the seven year old in her lap. She would give him a curve of her lips and a slight nod and he would look mildly embarrassed that he had been caught, again. Then his attention, and concern, would be redirected to the Roberts.

It had fallen upon Bud and Harriet to take care of all the unpleasantness that follows in the wake of death. There was no blood family left. It was just the four of them, and with Harm and Mac being so far away, it was the Roberts that had done most of the dirty work; the funeral arrangements, estate issues, transportation of the…body. Mac's eyes watered for the hundredth time that day, thinking about the admiral that way. The body….

They really didn't know much about what had happened in Italy. Harm had been on the phone with a number of government agencies, both American and Italian, but couldn't get anything but the official word. AJ Chegwidden, his daughter Francesca, and another man, were coming out of a restaurant where witnesses say they had just dined together, when a car bomb nearby blew, killing all three instantly. Italian officials reported it as a random act of violence. Proof that no one was immune to terrorism. Francesca was buried next to her mother in Marcella's hometown in Italy, while AJ was brought back to the states for burial at Arlington.

What really broke the marine's heart was that none of them DID know anything. The last year was so crazy, with so many changes to everyone's lives, neither she, Harm, nor the Roberts had heard all that much from their former CO. Little AJ had shown them the birthday card that he got in the mail from his uncle when she and Harm were down a few weeks ago. Harriet had said that big AJ must be busy since they hadn't seen him since the twins were born. The young boy had been excited to receive mail addressed to him personally, and thrilled beyond words that the mail came from Uncle AJ.

Watching Harriet and Bud with Harm now, Mac could see the weariness on their faces. She felt immense guilt that she and Harm could not have been there sooner. It helped though, that they had both been granted ten days leave. At least now they could pick up some of the slack. While Harm had already arranged to meet with some people to try to learn more about what happened in Italy, Mac had plans to spend time with Harriet and her godchildren. Bud had told them when they arrived at the Roberts' house that day how little AJ had been such a wonderful help the past few days and both Harm and Mac made a point to thank the boy for being there for his parents when they couldn't. But Mac knew that the help of a seven-year old only went so far. She was there now, and she was determined to let Bud and Harriet get some rest.

Sighing, Mac faced the actuality that no one would get much rest anytime soon. The funeral was wrapping up, and then it was back to the Roberts' where there would be an over abundance of both food and melancholy. Just the thought of it made Mac's head and stomach ache. All she really wanted to do was curl up in bed with Harm and forget all of this for the rest of the time they had together.

Unfortunately, Bud had informed them before they left for the funeral that there would be a lawyer coming by later that evening, once everyone else had gone, representing the firm that would be handling AJ and Francesca's estates. Marcia Crosby had called Bud the day before and told him she wanted to meet with the four of them. For what, Mac had no clue. She could only assume they were mentioned in AJ's will in some way or another. It was assumed that the largest part of AJ's financial and personal effects were suppose to go to Francesca in the event of his death. Mac knew that most of that would now probably be put up for auction or given to charity.

The shifting in her lap pulled Mac's attention back to the fact that there was a child still silently seated there. Smoothing his hair, she asked if he wanted down.

"Aunt Mac?" AJ settled more securely in her arms, a silent answer to her question.

"Yeah sweetie."

"If Uncle AJ is in Heaven now, will he get to meet Sarah?"

The tears already pooled in Mac's eyes threatened to fall, but crying would upset her godson, and she was not about to do that. She sighed before answering, "Yes, I guess he will."

"Good," he replied with a slight nod of his head, "I worry sometimes that there isn't anyone in Heaven to look out for Sarah like I was suppose to. Ya know," AJ turned some so that he could face his godmother, "like a big brother does. Now she'll have her Uncle AJ. And now she'll have someone to tell her all about us. I've thought about that too. Now Uncle AJ can tell her all about Mom and Dad and you and Uncle Harm…and me and Jimmy and the babies. She should know about her family, don'cha think?"

Mac sniffed a little and smiled warmly at the little boy. "Yeah, I do buddy. And I'm sure that your uncle will take wonderful care of Sarah and tell her all kinds of stories about you and me and everyone else. I don't think either of them will ever be lonely," she had to swallow back a sob at the end. It was hard enough to be here right now, doing this. Bringing up baby Sarah was like salt in a currently rather raw wound. But if that's what it took to make AJ feel better, then she could suck it up, at least until she was alone…with Harm.

"I'm still gonna miss him a whole lot though," a couple of tears dropped from the seven-year-old's long lashes. He looked down with a loud, childlike sniff before wiping his nose on the sleeve of his navy blue jacket. Mac wiped his tears away with the crumpled, as yet unused tissue in her hand, then held it to the boys face and instructed him to blow. Hugging him close, she whispered into his hair, "I'm gonna miss him a whole lot too."

It was a few minutes later, with AJ still in her arms that she saw him. He was standing some yards away, shadowed by a few trees. Dressed in typical spook fashion, the trench coat and sunglasses were actually appropriate for the bright afternoon sun and windy spring weather. Clayton Webb removed a hand from his pocket and raised it in acknowledgment when he realized that he'd been spotted.

"AJ, can you go stand with Jen and Uncle Mikey for just a minute"

Watching to make sure he made it to his destination without sidetracking himself with some kind of beetle, or frog, or any of the other hundreds of icky nature things that can grab a young boy's attention, she then turned and headed for the shadows where Clay was skulking, trying not to be noticed. She was sure, as she closed the remaining distance between them, that she was at least half of the reason for his demeanor. They hadn't talked in two years, but she was certain that he knew of her relationship with Harm. He was, after all, CIA.

"Sarah."

"Clay."

There was about a minute of awkward silence before Mac gave a watery chuckle. "This is ridiculous. Clay, you could have joined us for the service you know. No one was going to shoot you on sight."

"You sure about that?" he asked almost teasingly as his eyes flickered behind her shoulder to where she knew Harm was still talking to the Roberts.

"We're all adults Clay. And today isn't about us, it's about AJ. If anyone understands and honors that, it's Harm."

"I know that Sarah. I don't doubt Rabb's integrity." He shrugged and turned his head to look at some invisible object off to the left of them. "I just prefer to be somewhat removed from the situation. I deal better from the shadows, you more than anyone should know that," he looked back at her with a mischievous smirk before it fell away. "I really did respect him. More than anyone else I've ever known, with the possible exception of Mother."

Mac knew they were talking about AJ now and not Harm. "I know what you mean. The admiral seemed to earn reverence without even trying. People just couldn't help but admire him." She paused uncertainly and then asked, "How are you Clay, I mean really?"

Webb smiled at her concern. No wonder he fell in love with her once upon a time. "I'm good Sarah, really. I'm not doing so much fieldwork anymore, but that's okay. I've got other things in my life now..." he looked down at his feet, then around at their surroundings, anywhere but at Mac. "I, uh, I'm engaged. She's a professor at the university. Political Science. We met at one of Mother's boring cocktail parties. Who would have thought, I mean I hated those things, you remember. I am always trying to find a way out of them; I tried to get out of that one, but now that I'm more office and less field, I don't have as many excuses. I guess you could say it was fate, I mean had I been in the field, I would have had a 'prior commitment' and then I might never have met Holly…." He trailed off when he realized he was babbling like a nervous child. He finally looked up at Mac to find her grinning widely at him. He smiled back, and Mac found herself immensely relieved that they could finally just be happy for one another.

"Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Cloak and Dagger himself." Harm's voice shook both Mac and Clay from their own thoughts. He walked up to the duo, and with almost no hesitance, stuck his hand out to shake Webb's. "How are you Clay," he asked when the spy took his peace offering.

"Well, circumstances have been better, but it's good to see you Harm. How's London?"

"I'm not even going to ask how you know where I'm stationed. I probably don't want to know anyway." Harm's arm slipped around Mac's waist, his hand resting on her hip. It wasn't necessarily a possessive move, more of a show of unity. At least that's what Mac was going to tell herself. "It's good. Different, but interesting."

"Clay", Mac spoke up, "everyone is heading over to the Roberts' house, why don't you follow us. I'm sure Bud and Harriet would love to have you." She felt Harm stiffen almost imperceptibly beside her, but his face held a genuine, if guarded, smile and she was sure that he was confident enough in their relationship at this point to handle this situation gracefully.

"I don't think so Sarah," Clay answered uncomfortably, "I don't really belong there. That's for family and close friends. Not old CIA contacts," he tried to joke, but it fell flat.

"That's silly Webb. I personally think the admiral would be pissed if you didn't show. And the only thing worse than a pissed off ex-seal, is the ghost of a pissed off ex-seal." Harm knew his comment served its purpose in easing the tension when he felt Mac swat his shoulder.

"Come on Clay. For all his hemming and hawing, AJ had a soft spot for you," Mac cajoled him.

"Really. Huh, well try telling that to my deviated septum," Clay huffed with a wry smile, rubbing the bridge of his long ago broken nose. "Honestly, thank you for making me feel welcome, and for the invitation, but I'm on the clock right now." The shiftiness that usually accompanied a spy everywhere he or she went suddenly appeared in Clay's eyes. "I just wanted to stop by and pay my respects. I have a meeting in," he checked his watch and cringed, "…ten minutes ago. I have to leave." He hesitated before leaning in and kissing Mac lightly on the cheek. He then slapped Harm on the shoulder once and squeezed slightly before pulling back. "Take care of each other," and then he was walking away.

"Hey Clay," Mac called before he could get too far. He turned back and she said, "Congratulations. Be happy."

He smiled, his eyes flicking to Harm, then back to her. "You too. On both counts." With a mock two fingered salute, he turned and walked to his car.

Harm raised his arm from her hips and rubbed his hand up and down her back, slowly and softly. "He seems to be doing well," he observed, casting a glance at her face to gauge her emotional state of mind.

She watched Clay's back as he walked away. He held himself straight, with an air of confidence that had been sorely missing the last time she saw him. If she were honest, it had been missing since Paraguay. But it seemed to be back to full swing now. She felt a little place in her heart finally heal. Knowing that Clay was…well, Clay again brought her a sense of peace she hadn't even realize she was missing.

"Yeah," she replied, eyes still on Clay's retreating back, "he really does." She turned to Harm and impulsively placed a kiss on his lips, "Let's get outta here. I promised AJ we'd watch him ride his new bike." Hand in hand, they headed back to the car.

Everyone was gone by the time they passed by the burial site. He had told Bud and Harriet that they would meet them back at the car. As one, they stopped in front of the casket. It was up on the lift, waiting to be lowered into the ground by the cemetery workers after the grieving friends and family had departed. No words were spoken as Mac and Harm lost themselves in private memories of the man that had such an impacted on both their lives. Mac felt the tears that she had been suppressing earlier for the sake of her godson spill over her lashes and drip down over her nose. She tasted the saltiness on her lips as she pressed them together to keep from breaking the respectful silence surrounding them. Harm's hand let go of hers a split second before his arm wrapped around her, pulling her to him tightly.

"He would have been happy for us," he whispered in a raspy voice, his face so close to her ear she could feel his tears as his wet nose nuzzled her temple.

There, in the middle of Arlington National Cemetery, with only each other as witnesses, Sarah Mackenzie and Harmon Rabb did what they hadn't allowed themselves to do yet. Not during any of the numerous phone calls made since hearing about the 'accident', nor in the airport that morning when they held one another so tightly. Not even during the beautiful service just moments ago. Only now, standing alone in front of the undeniable proof that Admiral AJ Chegwidden was really gone forever, did they let go and cry for him. Each holding the other like a lifeline necessary to their own existence, the marine colonel and the navy captain wept for the patriarch of their most unorthodox and fiercely dedicated family.

TBC

A/N: Um, so... I liked Webb. Not season 9/beginning of 10 Webb, but the Webb who called Harm for help in Webb of Lies, or got Sergei out of that prison camp. I thought he was lots of fun, even if he was an arrogant ass, and his eps are some of my favorite. TPTB really ruined his character. So I tried to fix him.