Part Three
Author: AD <adage37@m...>
Rating: PG-13
Category: Romance/Humor (hopefully)
Pairing: Webb/Mac
Spoilers: Everything up to "Good Intentions"
Disclaimer: Apologies to Viacom, Paramount & Belisarius Productions for borrowing some JAG characters and taking them in a really different direction. Okay, let's be honest---JAG would never go in
this direction.
Previously, in Chapter 2: A beleaguered Admiral Chegwidden believes he has at least two officers down with the flu, but only Sturgis actually has the bug. Harriet, Bud, Coates, and Harm form an impromptu get-together to celebrate Mac's upcoming bundle of joy and discover that she's actually been engaged to Webb since Christmas Day. Talk about keeping secrets! Webb finally returns home from Iraq to discover his belated present.
Author's Note: A special thank-you to my friends who listened to me go on and on and on and on about some pretty boring stuff. <vbg>�
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9:00 AM (EST)
JANUARY 31, 2004 (SATURDAY)
MAC'S APARTMENT - GEORGETOWN.
Clay awoke slowly, barely aware of his surroundings. Yawning, he rolled over and blindly reached out for Sarah. Patting the empty space beside of him, Clay frowned, threw off the covers---and immediately snatched them back.
Rapidly blinking his eyes to chase away the grogginess, he shivered and let loose with a loud sneeze. "Ah-choo! Oh, shit."
"What was that?" Sarah walked out of the bathroom still brushing her teeth.
"Nothing," Clay muttered and reached for the Kleenex box on the nightstand.
Shaking her head, Sarah returned to the bathroom. "Sounds like a cold, Clay," she called out over the running water.
"I don't have a cold," he declared to the room in general.
"What was that?" Sarah called out.
Burying his head in the pillow for one brief moment, Clay gathered his resolve and rolled out of the warm bed. Grimacing as the cool air sliced through his body, he rubbed both hands up and down his bare arms and padded through the open bathroom door.
"I said, the only thing cold is this apartment. Geez, Sarah, it's like an igloo in here. Where's the thermostat?" Clay hunched pitifully against the doorframe, his dark jaw and crossed arms a stark contrast to the white boxer-briefs and undershirt he wore.
Glancing at him through the reflection of the mirror, Sarah hurriedly rinsed her mouth and tuned around. "Don't you dare touch that thermostat. I've got it on seventy-five and that's where it's staying."
Clay merely groaned and closed his eyes in supplication. Smiling at his antics, Sarah reached out and smoothed back his sleep-tousled hair, realizing for the first time that his face and arms were sunburned. "Uh, Clay? I think your problem is a little bit more than a cold room. Care to look in the mirror?"
"Not really. Just give me the diagnosis and show some mercy," Clay pleaded.
Sarah hugged him close and winced when his stubbled chin lightly scraped the side of her neck. Rubbing his back reassuringly, she felt a wave of tenderness engulf her when his arms finally uncrossed and carefully encircled her waist. "For starters," she softly informed him, "you have a sunburn in the dead of winter."
Clay leaned back, disengaging from their brief hug. Looking down, he made a cursory inspection of his arms and glanced in the mirror behind Sarah. "Well, that would explain the swollen eyelids and prickly skin," he ventured. "Guess a lot of it's windburn, too."
"Depends on where you were," she teased him, "and I am *not* asking." Reaching up to test his forehead and cheeks, she ordered him to lean down.
Compliant for the moment, Clay lowered his head and was surprised to feel her tongue touch his forehead. Quickly leaning back, his eyes searched hers questioningly.
"You're salty," she concluded. "Clay, didn't you even notice that you were dehydrated?"
He slowly nodded his head. "Yeah, sometime over the second or third time zone. That coffee last night probably didn't help," he ruefully acknowledged.
"No, it didn't," she sighed. "And it was Harm's hi-test version, too. Caffeine's a known diuretic, Clay. What were you thinking?" Sarah was truly puzzled by his lapse of common sense. The sunburn, windburn, whatever---was unavoidable, but Clay usually had a keen sense of self-preservation. It was a trait that had reassured her during his month-long absence.
Clay licked his parched lips and smiled into her eyes, unconcerned with the chastising tone of her voice. "That I was glad to see you? That I was relieved you're still going to marry me? That I was starving for more than just food?" He brushed his thumb lightly against her cheek and was pleased to note that she was smiling again.
"I might also have been thinking about how surprised I was to hear that I'm going to be a father," he added, earning a worried frown from Sarah.
"How surprised?" Sarah chewed on her lip and straightened the fall of her nightgown.
Clay exhaled an exasperated breath and tipped her chin up. "Pleasantly surprised," he firmly assured her.
"Oh. Well. Good answer," Sarah agreed. Clay was staring intensely into her eyes and she became lost for a second, her heart beating faster. Just when she thought he was going to kiss her, he leaned forward and gently moved her to his side so that he could reach the sink. She silently watched as he cut on the water, cupped his hands, and drank deeply from the spigot.
She didn't mean to stare, but when she saw him eyeing her toothbrush, she quickly pulled a new one out of the medicine cabinet and unwrapped it. "Sharing only goes so far, roomie. Blue for you and red for me."
Clay shrugged his shoulders, nodded, and reached for the toothpaste. While he was brushing, Sarah reached into the shower and turned on the tap. "Hot shower?"
Clay's eyebrows shot up and he quickly rinsed out his mouth. "I'm game if you are," he grinned suggestively.
Her giggle enchanted him, but just as he was pulling her to him, Sarah placed a restraining hand against his chest. "Whoa, there! Anything changed since last night," she asked him.
When he simply stared at her with a perplexed expression, her hand moved down to the hem of his undershirt, raising it up. "Unless things have changed since last night," she reminded him while,pulling the shirt over his head, "you have a meeting in ninety-eight minutes."
The stunned looked more than told her he'd forgotten. The slumped shoulders spoke of his instant regret and the lingering look up and down her body promised more than he could deliver right now.,Kissing his shoulder, she stepped back and asked, "D'you have an extra set of clothes in that ratty knapsack you brought in last night?"
Clay shook his head. "Underwear, socks, a couple of rolled tees---why?"
"Because I just don't see you sporting one of my uniforms to this meeting," she laughed.
A rueful expression twisted his lips as he agreed with her. "I'll have to run by my place and grab a suit then. Damn, Sarah," he sighed, "can we continue this when I get back?"
"Don't know. When will you be back?" Sarah could almost see the wheels turning in that sharp mind of his. When he'd finally reached the conclusion that she'd already guessed, she took pity on him.
"It could last for hours, couldn't it?" she asked.
He nodded, but added, "I'll make it as brief as I can."
"Okay. You do that. In the meantime, get your shower and I'll see what's in the kitchen. Deal?" Sarah headed for the bedroom, his undershirt still in her hand.
"Deal, "he confirmed. "I won't forget this, Sarah."
"I know," she threw over her shoulder, "neither will I." Clay grinned at her retreating form, shucked his briefs, and climbed into the shower.
The welcome heat of the water was just penetrating his aching muscles when Sarah stuck her head back into the bathroom. "Clay?"
Pouring some amber-colored shampoo into his cupped hand, he saw her blurred profile through the opaque curtain. "Yeah?"
"Smooth some of my moisturizing cream over your face and arms after your shower. It's the pink stuff in the round jar." Sarah left the door ajar, allowing some of the steam to escape.
Quickly massaging the amber liquid into his hair, Clay moved the curtain aside and peered at the counter. Leaning out and dripping soap suds all over the floor, he picked up a small jar with a black lid and examined it. "Oil of Olay?"
"That's the one!" Sarah called out. "It's fairly expensive stuff, so don't waste it."
"I won't smell like some kind of flower will I?" he questioned.
Sarah stood outside of the bathroom door and chuckled while she pulled on a pair of fawn-colored jeans. "It has a clean smell. Anyway, beggars can't be choosers, now can they?"
"Where the hell is Olay anyway?" he muttered.
The herbal fragrance of her shampoo was wafting out of the bathroom as she informed him, "I heard that."
"Well, it's a legitimate question," Clay argued.
"Okay, smartass. The official answer is that you don't need to know. It'll help that burn and that's all that matters." Sarah pulled on a matching argyle sweater and sat down on the bed to lace up her tan hiking boots. "What kind of juice do you want with breakfast?"
"Cranberry!" echoed out of the bathroom.
Leaning over to brush her short hair out, she stood up and flipped it back, fluffing a few strands with her fingers. "We have fresh Orange and Orange from concentrate."
The shower cut off and she heard the curtain scrape across the rod. "I'll take Orange then. Either kind!"
Spritzing some hairspray over her head, Sarah called out one last reminder, "Disposable razors are under the sink!"
"Thank god! I'll be done in a minute. Hey, make the juice to go and we can grab some Krispy Kremes over on the Parkway," Clay suggested.
Sarah started making the bed and felt the gnawing emptiness in her stomach, "You're on!"
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3:23 PM (EST)
JANUARY 31, 2004 (SATURDAY)
CIA HQ - LANGLEY, VIRGINIA
Clay walked into his office to find Sarah stretched out in his chair, a half-pint milk carton sitting on his desk along with a strewn-out newspaper. On closer inspection, he realized that Sarah must have dozed off while working the crossword puzzle.
Folding the newspaper out of the way, Clay disposed of the empty milk carton and leaned down to nuzzle Sarah's neck. Smiling, she reached up to cup his head and whispered, "Romeo?"
Clay backed off with a snicker and tweaked her nose. "Not even close. These days I think I'm more of a Polonius."
"Huh?" Sarah straightened her sweater a looked around for her milk carton.
He began to gather up their coats and held out Sarah's for her. "In Hamlet. The character Polonius, in the hope of understanding Hamlet's madness, enlists Rosencrantz and Guildenstern as personal spies." Pulling on his own coat, he leaned down to pick up the scarf that had fallen to the floor, "Actually, he's thought to be a satire of William Cecil Lord Burghley, Prime Minister to Queen Elizabeth I and one of the creators of the royal defense league."
Plucking the carton out of the wastebasket, Sarah shook the empty container before dropping it back in. "A spy-monger?"
He wrapped the scarf around Sarah's neck and pulled on the lanyard holding her visitor's pass. "Shakespeare actually referred to him as a fishmonger."
She wrinkled her nose and repositioned the lanyard over her scarf and coat. "Appropriate. By the way, nice fish tank."
Clay glanced over at the tank, now devoid of the lion fish it once housed. "Haven't had a chance to re-stock it. I was thinking maybe some nice Boesmani Rainbows or a few Apistos, but they take time to,breed."
He involuntarily glanced down at Sarah's mid-section as he said this and she blushed a bright red. "Speaking of which, there's something we need to discuss, Sarah."
"There's a lot to discuss," she reminded him.
"Yeah, but this is----look," Clay released a heavy sigh, anxious to get this out in the open. "I-I-I made a call to Kathleen Hall, the Arlington County Clerk of Court. She's agreed to meet us at the courthouse in about an hour---if you're willing."
Sarah looked into Clay's apprehensive face, keenly aware that he expected her to get mad or rake him over the coals for his presumption. "Let me get this straight. You called in a favor so that we could file for a marriage license? On a Saturday?"
He nodded, waiting with bated breath while she just stared at him.
Her sudden laugh took him off guard, making him wince. "Why not Monday, Clay? Why right now?" Her voice was sharp with incredulity.
"It's just the license, Sarah, not the ceremony---not the commitment." Clay's voice was tense with frustration and the need to gain her compliance. "Look, there's not even a blood test involved. Thirty dollars and our names notarized on a piece of paper. That's it."
"But why now?" she argued.
Clay decided to take the offensive, "Have you decided to back out on me?"
"No." Sarah looked at him from across the room, not backing down. "I just want to know what the rush is."
Another glance down at her stomach had Sarah seeing red. "Clay, I've been pregnant for an entire month while you've been none the wiser! What difference is two more days going to make unless---.",The dawning horror on her face, more than anything else made him race towards her.
"No!" he shouted, then more softly, "No, Sarah. No." Pulling her into his arms he made a vow he'd never made to another living soul, "I'd tell you if I had to leave---no matter what, you'd be the first to know."
Clay rocked her within his arms and tried to explain his need to rush things along. "Sarah, you're right. Technically, two more days makes no difference. It's just that while I was sitting beside you this morning, watching you wolf down almost a dozen donuts---."
Clay had to stop when he felt a fist hit his stomach. "---oomph! Okay, nine. Anyway, while you were inhaling the donuts, I realized that this is the happiest I've ever felt in my entire life. We were laughing, doing a couples thing, even talking about baby names. Then I realized how quickly all of it could be taken away."
Sarah leaned back so that she could see his face, "You're a pessimist, Clay."
"I'm a realist," he corrected her. "In any case, we've created this family, you and I. I can't explain it, but I have this overwhelming need to protect it all��...I just don't know how. I thought that the fist step would be giving you and this baby my name. And me, of course." Clay smiled self-deprecatingly, willing Sarah to understand.
"So this is all about you protecting us?" she asked, needing clarification.
Clay nodded his head jerkily.
"And loving us?" she probed.
Clay placed his hands on her shoulders, touching his forehead to her own. "Yes," he whispered, the word burning his throat with its significance.
"Okay." Sarah had to swallow twice before she could get her next words out. Pushing away from Clay, she grabbed up her gloves and opened the door. "We have thirty-seven minutes to get to the courthouse."
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1:00 PM (EST)
FEBRUARY 2, 2004 (MONDAY)
JUDGE HORNADAY'S CHAMBERS
FALLS CHURCH CITY HALL
300 PARK AVE., 1ST FLOOR, EAST WING
"Bud, sweetie, I still don't understand why they can't have a normal wedding sometime next month."
Bud stepped to the side allowing two well-dressed men to enter the already cramped room. "I think it has something to do with his job."
Placing a hand to the small of her back, Bud continued to guide his wife further into the room. He'd already counted at least eight people milling around the judge's chambers when Harriet jabbed him in the side with her elbow. Tilting her head toward the front of the room, she whispered, "Isn't that his mother over there? Oh, my gosh! Bud, look who's with her!"
Holding his side, Bud obediently searched the front of the room near the judge's desk. Recognizing Bill and Melinda Gates chatting quietly with a well-dressed blonde matron, he merely shrugged. "Well, Mr. Webb is from a well-connected family."
"Ha, ha, Bud. Sweetie, this is more than just a small gathering of friends at lunchtime. This is, this is-----well, I don't know what it is, but it is *not* an informal marriage ceremony. Especially without the bride and groom," Harriet sputtered.
"You mean us?" a voice from behind her inquired.
"Colonel!" Harriet, quickly turning towards Sarah, blushed to her roots. "Please don't pay any attention to what I just said," she apologized. The women hugged while Bud shook Clay's hand.
"Oh, ma'am," Harriet gushed, "I'm so happy for you."
Clay hugged Sarah to his side while they both scanned the room. "Thanks, Harriet. And I agree�this is a bit surreal isn't it?"
"Hey!" Clay protested. "I only invited my Mother and an old friend from crypto. The rest are all yours."
"Speaking of which," Sarah turned towards Bud, "where are the Admiral and Jennifer?"
"Jen came with us, but she had to, uh�she's in the----but the Admiral is on his way. He told us to make sure you didn't start without him," Bud informed them.
"We'll give it serious consideration, Roberts," Clay grinned. "Sarah, I'm going to go over and let Mother and Judge Hornaday know that we're here. You need anything?"
"Steady nerves would be nice," she jokingly told him, but shooed him off when he started to look concerned. "Go, go. I'll be fine." Clay patted her hand reassuringly and briefly kissed her before
weaving his way towards the judge's desk.
"He really loves you, doesn't he ma'am?" someone behind her asked dreamily.
Sarah turned around to greet their newest arrival "Yeah, he does, Jennifer."
"And you're sure about marrying him? No doubts?" Coates asked a bit anxiously.
Sarah's answer was strong and certain, "No doubts." A deep voice from the doorway finally made itself known. "That damn well better be the case, Mac. Otherwise I've wasted my lunch hour." AJ Chegwidden closed the door behind him and gave Sarah a brief hug. "Hope you don't mind if I brought a guest along."
"Oh, I invited him Admiral," she assured him. "I just wasn't certain he would come."
"Yeah, I have that history, don't I Mac?"
"You do," she agreed, returning his hug. "Thanks for coming, Harm. You too, Admiral."
AJ nodded his head and acknowledged the judge's wave from across the room. "Hell, I suppose you're going to want the rest of the day off, aren't you?"
"Well sir, it would be nice, but I don't expect it. I know how short-staffed we are with Sturgis out and Lennox on an investigation." Sarah felt a bit guilty as she said this since she and Clay had already planned a week-long honeymoon for the first week of March. She had six months of leave coming and both of them deserved this time alone. After all, `Semper Fi' started at home these days.
AJ agreed but grudgingly added, "I guess I could make an exception for Groundhog Day, Mac."
Clay walked up at that point, introducing his mother to Jennifer, Harm and the Lieutenants. Momentarily distracted, Sarah turned back to the Admiral. "You were saying something about a hog, sir?"
The Admiral's chuckle echoed around the room. "Mac, you're getting married on Groundhog Day. It's a holiday of sorts. You want it?"
As Sarah stood there with her mouth hanging open, Clay quickly jumped into the breech. "Absolutely. We'll take it, AJ," Clay accepted, earning a bark of laughter from Harm.
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LATER THAT NIGHT
WEBB TOWNHOUSE
ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA
Clay and Sarah broke apart, both breathing heavily, and collapsed on the bed. Rolling to her side, Sarah propped up on her elbow and peered down at her new husband. His chest was still heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
A smug grin made its way across Clay's face as he looked up at Sarah. Tracing a bead of sweat down to the hollow of his neck with her finger, she couldn't help her own smug grin. "Had enough?"
Still not able to speak, he merely shook his head and pulled her down into his arms. Giggling, Sarah burrowed into his chest and ran a calming hand over his heart, amazed at the heavy beat she could,feel.
"It's racing. Maybe you're getting a bit old for this," she teased.
Clay swallowed and forced himself to take slower breaths. "Maybe," he swallowed again, "I'm just a little out of practice."
Sarah tongued his nipple and rubbed her breasts over his abdomen. "Easily remedied," she murmured.
Clay pulled her up briefly capturing her lips with his own. "Gotta rest a minute. So��sorry��just a minute," he promised.
"I guess you've kept up pretty well so far," she conceded with another smirk. "It's almost midnight anyway. What time do you go in tomorrow?"
"Six," he groaned, dragging an arm over his eyes. "Thanks for reminding me."
"Hey, what can I say?" Sarah reached up and pulled his arm back down and around her waist. Clay responded by lightly kneading her lower back "Clay?"
"Hmmm?" he buried his nose in her neck and sighed with deep satisfaction.
"Groundhog Day? Our anniversary will forever be on Groundhog Day?" A little slap to his shoulder accompanied her question.
Breathing easier now, he reached down for the blankets and covered their legs. "The groundhog is an extremely underrated marsupial, Sarah"
Readjusting herself on Clay's chest, Sarah wiggled around until he began to knead her lower back again. "Do tell."
Bringing his other hand up against the side of her breast, he brushed his fingers back and forth against the addictive softness he found there. "Actually the groundhog is very `in tune' with the world. Its internal clock is signaled to wake up on February second. Just like you signaled my internal clock."
"That anything like a biological clock?" she asked sleepily.
Clay's voice was low and intense, "More like a heart, Sarah. You woke up my heart."
He waited quietly, still massaging her with both hands. When several moments had passed with no response, Clay figured she'd finally fallen asleep. Closing his eyes, he nearly missed her faint whisper.
"Sarah?" he questioned, nearly believing he'd imagined it.
She whispered just a little louder this time, the tears evident in her voice. "You woke up my heart too, Clay."
"Thank you for that, love. Thank you for that." Clay hugged her closer and gradually, they both fell into a peaceful sleep.
Four hours later, they were both abruptly awakened by an incessant ringing. Clay was the first to react. Gently untangling himself from Sarah's warm body, he sat up and located his cell phone on the nightstand.
Sarah lay back and watched as he flipped open his cell phone and barked a hoarse "Webb." The call didn't last long, but by its end, she knew their brief respite was over.
"What can you tell me?" She was proud of the neutral tone she had managed.
"Twenty-three minutes ago Swiss International Flight 461 executed a trajectory into our Lisbon embassy. Eighty-three souls were on board. Unknown number of embassy personnel and visitors at this,point," he recited, almost from rote.
Sarah released a shaky breath and reached out for his hand. He grasped it tightly and she could see the haunted look in his eyes change to resolve. He'd already reverted to spy mode. For once, she didn't resent it. "Clay, go do what you have to do."
He nodded and rolled off the bed.
~~~~~~~~~~TO BE CONTINUED�..
(This is not a teaser---I just don't have any more written yet. I'm
having a hard time making it flow. ~AD)