Rating: Almost R (Any higher would sound too clinical coming from my keyboard.)
Disclaimers: *I* won�t even claim this one!
Summary: Harm�s news shocks the hell out of Webb and confirms Mac�s suspicions. Other than that, Webb�s been caught by Mac and they�re a-romancing one another. <I �might� have emphasized one part of the story more than the other ---what can I say; I�m a Webbie!>
Author�s Note: Paula said it, I went with it, that�s about it. I�m only posting it here �cause you guys are family and can forgive such flights of fancy.
Warning: Do not e-mail someone named Kip checking out the validity of this story---this is a lunatic ficlet from a button-down mind gone mad. LOL!
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DECEMBER 5, 2003
CIA EMPLOYEES� GYM
LANGLEY, VA
Clay eyeballed the distance from his handhold on the rock wall to the floor and jumped down the remaining three feet. Landing solidly, he raised a forearm to stop the sweat from rolling into his eyes. Standing back, he studied the thirty-foot climb he�d just completed.
�Hey, good work, Clay!�
Clay quickly turned around and stifled a groan. �Thanks, Harm.�
�No, really, I mean it. Scaling that wall takes real strength and agility. It�s good to see you�ve recovered so well.� Harm set his gym bag on the low bench and pulled out a bottle of water.
Dreading yet another awkward meeting, Clay grabbed his towel from the bench and absently swiped at his face and neck. Harm silently offered up the rest of his water, but Clay waved him off with a �no thanks� and sat down on the bench to rest for a moment.
They sat there, side-by-side, not knowing what to say to each other. Harm had started to fumble around in his bag for something when Clay finally decided to break the silence. �Harm? Are you ever going to forgive Sarah?�
�What do you mean �forgive� her? I don�t blame *her* for anything,� Harm clipped out.
Clay sighed. �Well, then, call her. She feels like you�re punishing her for marrying me. That is what you�re doing, isn�t it?�
Harm tossed his gym bag to the floor, raised his right leg over the bench and straddled it. Laying both hands on the seat between his legs, he leaned forward and invaded Clay�s personal space. �I�m not punishing her, I just don�t know what to say to her. When I�m ready, I�ll talk to her.�
Clay snorted and stood up. �Well, I certainly hope it�s before the wedding---she�s counting on you being there, y�know.�
�What about you? It�s your wedding, too. You want me there?� Harm gave him an intense look that Clay couldn�t interpret. Deciding to answer him at face value, Clay reverted back to the camaraderie they had shared before Paraguay had changed everything.
�Of course. I consider you a friend, Harm. Sure, you�re a pain in the ass, but it takes one to tolerate another.� Clay chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder as he headed toward the locker room.
Harm�s smile faded as Clay disappeared through the doorway. Sooner or later he was going to have to level with them. He couldn�t go on ignoring Mac and the awkward meetings with Clay were tearing him apart.
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LATER THAT NIGHT
CLAY & MAC�S TOWNHOUSE
ARLINGTON, VA
The big leather couch almost swallowed her whole as Sarah Mackenzie sank into the butter-soft cushions. Spying the TV remote on the matching ottoman, she hooked her ankles around the heavy piece of furniture and dragged it up even with the couch. Pleased with her success, Sarah flopped back, enjoying the comfort of it all. Feeling too lazy to reposition herself, she toed off her sneakers and stabbed at the large button of the remote with her big toe. The flat-paneled TV came to life on the opposite wall and Sarah settled in with a sigh. She was definitely not moving for the rest of the night.
As the commercials flashed before her, she heard the shower go off upstairs. Seconds later a waft of Ivory soap and herbal shampoo tickled her nose as Clay opened the bathroom door and headed for their bedroom. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled with a smile as she heard him loudly humming while he dried his hair. He�d read somewhere that humming and singing exercised the flabby throat muscles associated with snoring. Well, he certainly hadn�t been snoring lately, but she thought it had more to do with the reconstructive surgery to repair his broken nose than with anything he�d read about in some medical journal.
Sarah glanced up as she heard him clomping down the stairs, still buttoning an old flannel shirt. One of these days he was going to trip on those untied laces, but he liked being able to slide his old leather high-tops on and off at random when he relaxed at home. It was his preference in jeans that had truly piqued her interest once they had become truly involved with one another. At first she�d figured he wore the loose SilverTabs because of his healing injuries. Later on, he�d told her that he�d bought them by mistake one day and just loved the feel of them. Personally, she loved how they allowed her hand to wander wherever it wanted to go without any restrictions. The first time she�d done that, she�d found that Clay had a chosen a distinctive solution to the boxers or briefs dilemma: he liked to wear dark blue boxer briefs.
Clay missed the wicked grin she gave him as he joined her on the couch. Briefly finger-combing his hair, he glanced at the TV screen and frowned.
�The Game Show Channel?� he asked her, truly bewildered by her choice.
�Sure, why not? They�ve got a Newlywed Marathon on tonight---should be enlightening.� She�d had no idea what was on when she�d flopped down earlier, all she�d really wanted to do was veg out for a while. But now that he was beside of her, fresh from a shower, and looking so adorable, she was starting to get some ideas.
Clay shrugged his shoulders and was about to sit back and share the ottoman with Sarah when she patted her thighs, urging him to use her lap as a pillow. �Are you sure, Sarah? Looks like heaven to me, but I don�t want to put you out. I know you�ve had a long day, too.� Clay�s eager expression told her that there was no other place he�d rather be than cuddled up on her lap. God, she loved this man. Even when he tried to turn her down, she felt sexy and alluring.
Sarah responded by wiggling her butt back further into the cushions and smoothing down the thighs of her soft cotton low-riders. When Clay still hesitated, she deliberately flicked open the bottom two buttons of her baseball jersey and leaned back so that the shirttails fell back and exposed her flat belly. Early on she�d discovered that Clay was fascinated by a woman�s bare midriff.
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B A C K I N A U G U S T
When he�d graduated from physical therapy to gym workouts, she�d taken him with her to a newly opened facility that was close to his townhouse. She�d been working out at the punching bag when she�d lost sight of him. Weaving through the nautilus equipment, she�d found him bench-pressing the free weights. It was difficult to see him because he�d acquired four very feminine spotters.
When he sat up on the weight bench after completing his reps, that boyish grin was firmly in place. His tank top and loose shorts had been molded to his body by a fine sheen of sweat. She really couldn�t blame those women for finding him so tempting, but she felt a small pang of jealousy when she realized that he was enjoying their company.
He just couldn�t seem to take his eyes off their---stomachs? What exactly was he looking at? Certainly not their chests---hers, she absently noted, was much better endowed than theirs. Anyway, his eyes weren�t leveled that high. Her analytical mind zoned in on their one commonality: three wore workout bras and the fourth wore a cropped tee-shirt. Thinking for a moment, Sarah pulled her tee-shirt out of her red shorts and quickly stuffed the ends under the bottom of her bra. Blousing out the shirt so that it appeared cropped, she pulled her shorts slightly lower and approached the group surrounding Clay.
Clay�s eyes immediately sought hers and she could tell that he was pleased to see her.
�Are you the Marine he says he belongs to?� asked the tallest one in the group.
Sarah looked her up and down, before staking her claim, �He�s mine.�
Sarah threw Clay a mocking look, then noticed he was staring at *her* bare midriff now. Testing out her theory even further, she moved to his left and then to his far right. Sure, enough, his eyes tracked her mid-section every step of the way. She�d bet her last paycheck that he wasn�t even aware of doing it, but the other women had noticed now.
�She�s right ladies,� the one in the cropped tee sighed, �Look, he can�t keep his eyes off of her.�
Clay looked up at that comment and the mesmerized look on his face disappeared to be replaced by one of secret delight. �I never could,� he told them.
A chorus of �ahhs� and �he�s a keeper� filled the air as the women good-naturedly went back to their workouts.
An evil grin lit Sarah�s face as she walked towards Clay who was still seated on end of the bench. Giving her hips a little extra sway she felt a surge of triumph when his gaze automatically drifted down to her midsection again. She stepped between his knees and Clay�s hands instinctively reached around to span her bare waist. His gold Harvard ring felt cold against her skin, but his strong fingers were warm and soothing as they stroked the base of her spine. As she looked down at the top of his head, she could feel Clay�s rough thumbs as they rubbed the soft skin of her belly. Unable to resist, she cradled his head against her, sifting her fingers through his silky hair. He lifted his head up and she leaned down to capture his lips with her own, licking into his mouth and sweeping her tongue over his.
Their lips parted for only a second then met again, Clay suckling Sarah�s full lower lip until she dragged her fingernails down his scalp and tugged his head back, seeking his tongue again. This time, when their lips parted, Clay slowly lowered his chin down her torso, enjoying the scrape of her nails behind his ears as she guided him to where her bare skin hungered for his touch. When he began to nuzzle and nip at her belly button, the abrasiveness of his evening beard followed by those soft lips caused her knees to buckle.
Clay easily caught her, backing up and easing her bottom onto the bench. He hugged her close to him, sheltering her body as it shook from within. When Sarah finally turned her head and looked up at him, Clay�s eyes were at half-mast and his hair was standing on end from where she�d been frantically running her fingers through it. �I know your weak spot now Clay,� she taunted in a husky whisper.
His tongue dragged along his bottom lip as he tried to focus on her words. �I don�t have any weak spots, sweetheart. I�m a ruthless, hard-hearted spook,� he breathed into her ear.
Still shivering from sensory overload, Sarah eased his hands away from her waist and raised them to her face until his palms cupped her cheeks. Gently biting the inside of his left wrist, then rubbing her cheek against it, she purred out, �My spook is a sucker for bare tummies.�
He thought about it a minute and agreed, �Yeah, you�re right. They�re sexy. Not obscene, but innocently sexy. The tease of bare skin all the way around is�well, it�s like a promise, a temptation, it�s---it�s just sexy as hell.�
Clay was getting just a bit defensive now, but Sarah was intrigued. Kissing him on his jaw, she batted her eyes at him and asked, �When did you first discover this addiction?�
Clay glanced around, surprised they hadn�t been interrupted by now. Actually, he was praying for an interruption at this point. Their bench was almost hidden by all the machinery and it looked as though most of the other patrons were busily following the leader of a step class.
Pulling Sarah�s tee-shirt down to protect himself from further temptation, Clay decided to see how she could handle an honest response. �Well, I�m enchanted by just about every part of the female body,� he began. Noting that Sarah was starting to get a militant gleam in her eye, he rushed on, �but it was when I attended a belly dancing class in�.�
�A belly dancing class?� she sputtered, wide-eyed.
�Yes. I attended a belly dancing class in Kuwait and---.�
�Voluntarily?� she wanted to know.
�Of course. Well, as I was saying, Salome took me to this---.�
�Salome?� Sarah�s voice was becoming clipped.
�A friend of mine. Look, are you going to let me answer your original question or are you going to continue this interrogation?� Clay looked intrigued at the possibility that Sarah might be jealous over him.
�How old were you?� So it was to be the interrogation. Clay heaved a long-suffering sigh before he answered.
�Nine.�
Sarah�s eyes got round, but she hiked her leg over the bench to face Clay as he told his story. He definitely had her full attention. �Okay, continue. I promise not to interrupt.�
Clay harrumphed is disbelief, but continued. �Mother and I often traveled with my father when I was younger. When I was nine, he was assigned to Kuwait and I attended the embassy school there. Salome was one of my classmates and offered to take me to one of her belly dancing classes. It sounded interesting; what can I say? So, we were escorted to one of the practice tents and I didn�t really know what to expect. Once we entered the room, I learned that males weren�t allowed to observe these classes, but since I was nine---and an American---the Malakar made an exception.� Clay paused for a moment and his dimpled smile emerged. �It was fantastic!�
�Nine, huh?� Sarah traced the crease of one dimple with her finger.
Clay�s smile grew wider with the memory, �Nine.�
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B A C K O N T H E C O U C H
�Last chance, Clay. The offer goes off the table in ten seconds---nine---eight---I thought so,� Sarah giggled.
His hair tickled her exposed skin as he searched for the most comfortable position for both of them. Finally choosing to lie flat on his back, his long body sank into the soft leather cushions and he laid the side of his head against her bare tummy. Not wanting her leg to cramp up, Sarah eased herself onto her right hip to allow the couch to take on most of Clay�s weight.
Satisfied with their maneuverings, Clay reached out his left arm and blindly scooped the remote off of the ottoman and handed it to Sarah. Taking the hint, she started surfing the channels, but not before muttering, �no more I Dream of Jeannie�.
Clay didn�t hear her. He just stared up at Sarah until she looked down into his steady green eyes.
�What?� she smiled.
�I need you more than I need air to breathe,� he stated out of the blue.
�Hey,� she cupped his jaw, �what brought this on?�
�A Groovy Kind of Love?� he asked before pulling her down for a quick kiss. Sarah enjoyed the kiss, but wasn�t deterred. Clay�d been pensive ever since he�d gotten home this evening.
�What happened today,� she asked idly, smoothing his freshly washed hair back from his forehead.
�Same old. Pushed some paper, debriefed some agents, got loaned out to NSA again, signed off on some reports, passed the active service physical, worked out at the gym, talked to Harm. Typical day at Langley,� he obediently reported.
�Back up, Spook Boy! Did I hear that right? The physical was today? And you passed?� she squealed, clutching at his shirt.
�Yes.� His expression was solemn but she could see his dimples twitching.
�Barely, Just Fine, or With Flying Colors?� her right hand fiddled with one of his buttons until only four were still holding the shirt together.
He gave her a haughty look and huffed out, �Flying Colors, of course!�
Sarah let out a huge squeal of delight that nearly burst his eardrum again. Subtly rubbing his ear as she leaned down to hug him, he grinned into her neck and waited for the next topic. If he could get through that one maybe they could celebrate his active duty status by re-enacting the fantasy that had gotten him up that rock wall earlier this evening.
Although he waited patiently, all Sarah did was kiss him on the forehead, surf through some more channels and mess with his shirt buttons. Glancing down at his chest, he noted that only two were still fastened. Clay casually reached up and undid the next button on *her* jersey, smirking when his action revealed that she was braless. The shock of cold plastic of plopping onto his belly interrupted his study of her breasts. Before he could grab the remote, it toppled down and wedged itself between his right side and the squishy sofa cushions.
So, she�d found something she liked. Raising his eyebrows when he heard the Rod Stewart song coming from the TV, he turned his head and saw the opening credits of a familiar science fiction show flash by. Settling in, he kicked off his hightops, raised his right knee to rest against the back of the couch, and enjoyed the random journey Sarah�s hand was slowly making over his bare chest.
�Clay?�
�Hmmm?� he closed his eyes as she gently raked her nails through his light sprinkling of chest hair.
�How was Harm?�
�Defensive, friendly, the usual.� Her fingers idly mapped out each abdominal muscle while following the thin line of hair that disappeared into the loose waist of his jeans.
�Claaaay.�
Impatient to get this line of questioning over with, even if the fringe benefits were making him hard as a rock, Clay caught her wicked hand, pressed it flat to his stomach and told her all she needed to know.
�It was a brief encounter, sweetheart. In a nutshell, he�s not punishing you for loving me, claims he doesn�t blame *you* for anything, and he�ll call you when he has something to say to you.�
�Oh.�
A couple of minutes passed before she smiled and resumed her one-handed exploration of Clay�s chest. Looking up at her, she appeared totally engrossed in the action of the TV show.
Clay tried to play her little game, but gave up all pretense of watching the screen when Sarah began a deep massage of his pectorals. He shut his eyes and groaned in pleasure as her hand rubbed back and forth over his flat nipples. A scrape of her fingernail nearly shot him up from the couch, but he shifted his hips into the cushions and relaxed into her strokes again. Slitting his eyes, he caught her licking her lips, planning her next �random� move. To his mind, nothing was better than a certain Marine on a mission.
Sarah had no idea what she was watching on the TV screen, she just enjoyed having this kind of access to Clay, like a feast to be savored. They�d made love numerous times over the past few months; they�d also argued, teased and taunted. Laughter was a big part of their relationship---so were honesty, respect, and understanding. Underlying it all was a strong sense of discovery and joy that had been missing from both of their lives.
She�d been thrilled to discover that Clay�s playful side was in perfect synch with her own. Discovering his sensuous side had been an unexpected bonus. The hints had been there all along, but the fact was, Clayton Webb was the most tactile person she had ever encountered. He had definitely taught her some lessons she�d remember for a lifetime.
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B A C K I N A U G U S T
�Clay, are you home?� Sarah called out, placing her briefcase by the coat rack as she closed the front door.
�Upstairs!� was his muffled reply.
Sarah kicked off her heels and ran up the stairs, eager share her good news.
Looking in the bedroom, then the bathroom, she finally found him around the corner at the end of the hallway. Humming under his breath, he was folding, then rolling towels to go in the linen closet. She�d never seen someone store their towels like wine bottles, but Clay seemed to have a unique organization system for just about everything.
Watching him for a moment, she realized that he was enjoying this simple task. He�d take a towel from the basket, snap it out, fold it length-wise, then width-wise, roll it into a neat tube, and wedge it into the closet.
He threw her a quick smile when he realized she was watching him. �Just a couple more to go,� he assured her. Sarah stepped closer to the hallway wall, so that she could lean on it while he finished up. Noticing her slight movement, Clay�s eyes traveled down to see her stocking-clad feet digging into the deep carpet. He nodded approvingly and carried on with his task.
Wedging in his last towel, he flattened the collapsible basket, lodged it into its assigned cubbyhole, and shut the closet door with a decisive snap.
Knowing he�d been enduring the frustration of limited duty status for the past week, Sarah held back the news of her permanent assignment to the bench and asked, �Good day?�
Clay nodded and bent low, playfully reaching down and sliding his hands all the way from her ankles to her hips and back down again. Putting down one knee for balance, his hands traveled back up her stockings and under her skirt. Her eyes glazing over at the feel of her lover�s touch, Sarah giggled happily as she heard Clay murmur, �Getting better and better all the time, sweetheart.�
Lesson One: Expensive deep-pile carpeting doesn�t leave stinging burns; it leaves exciting reminders.
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B A C K I N S E P T E M B E R
It was their first big purchase together and Sarah wanted it to be perfect. Unfortunately, she and Clay had different ideas on what constituted the perfect couch.
�I don�t know, Sarah. I don�t see myself relaxing on it at the end of the day.� Clay flipped back the sides of his suit jacket and slid his hands into his pockets. Walking around the modern floral couch, Clay eyed it from all angles trying to picture it in front of his latest acquisition: a 72-inch flat screen television that hung like a painting on the wall of their den.
�That�s pretty much what you said about the last two I liked. And no---before you say it again---we can�t keep the one we already have. Tiner and his brother have already moved it into his apartment.� Sarah�s hands fisted on her hips and the buttons of her uniform jacket glinted under the showroom lights.
�It was a damn fine couch, Sarah.� There was a wistful note in Clay�s voice that grated on Sarah�s nerves.
�For a single man approaching his twilight years, maybe, but we need something that reflects us as a couple---that tells our friends and family how we really live. Not something that your Mother picked out.�
�Mother did not pick out that couch. I had an interior designer come in and do the place years ago,� Clay corrected her.
�Well who was she designing for---Tarzan? It was leopard skin for god�s sake. Leopard skin!� Sarah still couldn�t believe how much Clay had liked that monstrosity. His taste was excellent when it came to so many things, but that couch---!
�It was imported from Guatemala and considered a collector�s item,� Clay defended his old comfortable friend. �It was large, and soft, and squishy---and it fit me. Don�t you remember how it could easily hold the two of us as we slid around---.�
�Clay!� Sarah clapped a hand over Clay�s mouth and jerked her head towards the extremely interested saleslady waiting for their decision. Realizing they had an audience, Clay rolled his eyes to the ceiling, but looked unrepentant.
�Colonel, sir, may I make a suggestion?� The saleslady had been a patient and helpful guide for the past two hours---so patient that they had forgotten she was trailing behind them as they toured the exclusive Woodbridge furniture gallery. Both grudgingly nodded their heads and she led them to the back of the showroom, through a heavy door marked �Shipping & Storage.�
Once their eyes adjusted to the lowered lights, she guided them to the biggest chocolate brown leather couch either one of them had ever seen. �This was special ordered by one of our customers a few months ago---a professional basketball player. It was exactly to his specifications---ten feet long, double the normal dimensions wide, down padding and over-stuffing, brass contouring, the softest of Italian leathers, reinforced redwood frame---he said it was perfect when it was finished. Very similar to your requirements, sir,� she smiled over at Clay.
Clay was already running his hand along the arms, so Sarah said, �I�m assuming he sent it back.� At the saleslady�s nod, Sarah asked, �If it was everything he requested, why�d he send it back?�
Clay had already sunk down into the couch and didn�t look like he wanted to get up anytime soon. She held back an indulgent smile as she watched Clay bond with the couch.
Uh-oh, Sarah sincerely prayed there was nothing majorly wrong with this piece of furniture. From the look on Clay�s face and the way he kept rubbing his palms over the supple leather, she knew that this was the one that he wanted.
�Ma�am, the reason he sent it back?� Sarah pressed.
The older woman surreptitiously cleared her throat when she realized that the Colonel had asked her question for the second time. �Goodness�he does seem to appreciate fine Italian leather doesn�t he?� Finally dragging her eyes away from the man�s hands stroking the couch, she quickly answered Sara.
�Allergies. He was allergic to the down stuffing and over-padding.�
Sarah walked over to sink down onto the couch beside of Clay. It felt like sinking into butter. Clay�s arm automatically went around her and the saleslady discreetly left them to talk over the potential purchase.
�Clay? Are you allergic to down or feathers?� She needed to know now before she, too, started bonding with the couch.
�Not that I�m aware of,� he whispered as he stared into the depths of her eyes.
�What? Not now, Clay. She�s standing right over there.� Sarah frantically gestured towards the saleslady, but she was sorely tempted.
�Okay, okay. I just noticed something, sweetheart,� Clay began, grabbing a kiss despite the presence of the fairy godmother who�d led them to this piece of heaven.
�You did?� Sarah licked her lower lip, still tasting his kiss.
�Yeah. This couch is the same color as your gorgeous, chocolate eyes, Sweetheart,� Clay gently brushed a kiss over each of the lids protecting those soft eyes and helped her to her feet.
�Clay?� Sarah placed a hand on his arm as he absently looked around for the saleslady. �Pull out your platinum card---ma�am, can we special order an ottoman to go along with this couch?�
Lesson Two: When selecting a piece of furniture to reflect how you really live, consider a nice big squishy leather couch.
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B A C K I N O C T O B E R
Seeing the Roberts� van through the window, Clay got to his feet and opened the front door. �C�mon, sweetheart---Harriet and Bud are already here!� he called up the stairs, then turned around to kiss Harriet�s cheek and shake Bud�s hand. AJ pulled on his pant leg, so he hunkered down and shook his hand, too.
�Well, then, they�re eight minutes and twenty-seven seconds early!�
�Okay, I�ll tell them that!� Clay grinned and gestured the small family into the den where AJ immediately dove into the oversized couch. AJ�s parents wisely chose to remain standing. They knew the temptation of that couch and could only stay a few minutes.
�Clayton Webb, don�t you dare!�
�Don�t have to---you already did!� Bud started to laugh but Harriet chidingly slapped Clay on the shoulder. Clay�s grin just got wider as his eyes twinkled with mirth.
�You�re an ass, sweetheart!�
�I know�and now, so does young AJ Roberts!� Sure enough, AJ�s eyes had opened wide and his mouth formed an �O� of surprise at the new name he might be able to call Clay. Harriet gave a negative shake of her head, silently warning her son he�d better not try it---ever. AJ pursed his lips, ignored his mother, and industriously searched through the cushions for the remote.
�Did they bring the baby?� It sounded as though Sarah was getting closer. Bud gestured to Clay that he�d answer this question. He walked over to the base of the stairs; Clay and Harriet followed him.
�No ma�am, she�s still a bit croupy so Dad�s with her �til we get back! It sure is great of you and Clay to take AJ to the Haunted House! We really appreciate it!� Bud was going to call up a few more words of thanks when Sarah suddenly rounded the top of the staircase and began her grand descent.
�WOW, ma�am!� Bud had never seen the colonel decked out in such an---appropriate---outfit. Harriet seconded her husband�s pronouncement, then looked over at Clay to catch his reaction.
Clay�s jaw had dropped and his eyes glittered a deep forest green. In Harriet�s mind, seeing Clay�s besotted reaction to Sarah�s costume was worth the twenty-minute drive. The colonel certainly did make a perfect superhero. Studying Clay�s uniform for the first time, she thought that he made a pretty dreamy Star Fleet commander.
Missing the company of the adults, AJ ran over to the staircase and stood between his mother and Clay. Wearing an expression similar to Clay�s, he looked up at his father and asked, �Is that really Aunt Sarah?�
Before Bud could reply, Clay swallowed hard and said, �No, AJ. That�s Wonder Woman. The real thing.� AJ nodded his head in awe.
Enjoying herself, but knowing they needed to get back to their own home, Harriet gave Sarah and Clay some last-minute instructions and made AJ swear to behave. Once his parents had gone, AJ kept looking back and forth from Clay to Sara, then down at himself.
�Was I s�posed to wear a costume, too?� he wondered
�No, sweetie, that�s two days away,� Sarah assured him as she tried to shove her satin cape over her shoulder. �Clay and I have to attend a Company function after we have fun at the Haunted House with you.�
�Oh, that�s too bad, Aunt Sarah.� AJ looked thoughtful for a moment while Sarah leaned down to zip up his jacket and Clay switched off most of the lights.
�Aunt Sarah?� AJ tugged on her cape as Clay joined them at the door.
�Yeah, sweetie?� Clay was helping her into a long coat when they both realized it would never go on over the cape. Clay untied her cape, kissed her neck, then folded up her cape while she put on the coat.
�What�s a Cump�ny Fun�shun?�
Clay laughed and scooped AJ up in his arms. �That, young Mr. Roberts, is a form of torture only adults could dream up. Basically, we get dressed up, stand around, listen to boring stories, and wait to see whose going to be lucky enough to go home first.�
�Oh,� AJ wisely nodded as Sarah shook her head at Clay, �I�ve been to one of them before.�
�You have?� Clay and Sarah asked at the same time.
�Yeah,� AJ heaved a long-suffering sigh in remembrance, �Mommy calls it a family reunion, but Daddy calls it---.�
�AJ,� Sarah stopped him, �I don�t think your Daddy would want us to know what he calls it, do you, sweetie?� She curved her finger around his chubby cheek in affection while she pinched Clay�s butt to stop his chuckles.
AJ let out another long sigh and admitted, �I guess not. I�m not s�posed to use those kinda words anyways.�
Clay handed the serious young boy off to Sarah while he leaned against the wall, repressing peals of laughter. AJ stared at Clay while Sarah forced her own lips not to curl in commiseration. Wiggling to get down, AJ stood in front of Clay and pointed up at him.
�Clay, are you laughing at me? Mommy says that not nice. Don�t you like me anymore?�
Clay immediately sobered up and came down on his knees in front of the little boy, �Oh, AJ. I�d never laugh at you. I�m sorry if you thought I did---really sorry. Thing is, you�re such a wonderful mixture of your Mommy and Daddy, that I�m just really happy when you�re around. You make me so happy, that it bubbles out and I can�t control it sometimes.�
�Really?� AJ looked deeply into Clay�s eyes.
�Really,� he assured the boy.
�Okay, but you better play nice.� Clay nodded and in a gesture that so reminded him of Harriet, AJ leaned forward, kissed Clay�s cheek and hugged him around the neck. Clay held the precious little boy to him for a few moments, blinking back unexpected tears. When he wiggled free and ran out to the car, Clay slowly stood up and turned to face Sarah.
�If it�s possible, I want ten just like him,� he choked out.
Sarah enfolded him in her arms and promised, �We can start tonight.�
Lesson Three: Keeping Promises---it�s a good thing.
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B A C K I N N O V E M B E R
�Damn,� she whispered in exasperation. Not believing that such a basic item could be gone, she called out to Clay in the next room, �Claaay!�
�Hold on, I�m on the phone!�
�Damn,� she said it louder this time. Getting impatient, she pushed the wet hair off of her face and turned off the water. Shivering and muttering under her breath, she was just climbing out of the shower, when Clay knocked on the door. Even after all these months, she still couldn�t believe how considerate of her privacy he could be, but now was not the time to stand on ceremony---she was freezing her ass off, �Get in here!�
�Good morning, Sweetheart. Problem?� Unshaven, hair tousled, and barely dressed in a pair of gold running shorts, Clay crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back against the door.
Staring hard at the light switch to the left of his gorgeously muscled shoulder, Sarah tried to figure out if she had the extra time necessary to dive into Clay before she had to report in to Admiral Chegwidden this morning. Damn, no time. In fact, she might already be running late.
Frustrated at being called in on a holiday, she sat down on the edge of the tub and muttered, �Soap.�
�S�cuse me?� Clay casually crossed one thickly muscled leg over the other as he shifted his position against the door.
�Soap. Soap. I�m out of soap. I have forty-two minutes to shower and get over to Falls Church, and I�m out of soap.�
Clay shrugged, �Ivory okay?� Due to the sutures Clay had received back in May, the doctors had recommended he use an oil-free soap until he was fully healed. His mother had gone overboard and bought him an entire case of the stuff. Although for herself she still preferred the vanilla-scented soap she�d used for years, the combination of Clay�s natural scent and Ivory soap created a perfume that just spoke testosterone.
Sarah took a deep breath, trying not to notice how every pectoral muscle moved when he hunched his shoulders like that. There was absolutely no time for her to seduce Clay this morning. Really, there wasn�t. �Uh-huh.�
�Back in a sec,� He left the door open as he went to the linen closet for a bar of Ivory soap. Sarah�s eyes never left his back and buttocks as he strolled down the hall. Most men would kill for such muscles; Clay hid his under loose jeans and three-piece suits.
Sarah stood up and cut the hot water back on when she saw Clay strolling back, peeling the wrapper from the family-sized bar. Tossing the paper in the trash, Clay closed the bathroom door with his foot and held the bar out to her.
Just as she was reaching for it, Clay held it back and just watched her as the hot water sluiced down her body. Swirls of steam eddied around them as Clay studied her sleek curves, then sought out her eyes. Feeling her nipples peak and her insides tighten, Sarah decided she wasn�t too proud to beg. �Please, Clay, I have *got* to get ready.�
�What if you didn�t?� Clay teased, stepping out of his gold shorts and tossing them towards the hamper.
�Huh?� Clay cupped one of Sarah�s breasts long enough to get his hand wet and began to lather up the bar between his hands while Sarah watched, mesmerized.
�What if you didn�t have to go in? What would you rather be doing?� Clay carefully placed the foamy bar of soap on the edge of the tub and climbed into the steamy shower with Sarah.
�I-uh-I-but I do have to go in,� she nearly wailed in frustration. Clay was soaping up her neck and shoulders with his bare hands, slipping and sliding along the smooth contours of her arms. When he got to her hands he placed them on either side of her head so that he could glide his soapy hands down her elbows and underarms.
Sarah clutched at her hair, waiting for him to lather up from the bar again. This time when he placed it on the edge of the tub, he just stood there waiting for an answer. �You know what I�d rather be doing,� she groaned, �but I can�t.�
Clay began spreading the thick lather over her breasts, massaging the peaks and following the dripping suds down her torso. �That was the Admiral on the phone earlier. Seems your presence is not needed after all,� he murmured into her moist ear.
Collapsing on his chest as his soapy fingers worked their magic, her hands clutched at his shoulders. �Beast,� she called him, but her heart wasn�t in it.
�That�s �Sexy Beast� to you,� he grinned and grabbed up the bar of soap once more from the edge of the tub.
Lesson Four: Ivory soap is ninety-nine and forty-four one-hundredths percent pure---so you don�t have to be!
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B A C K O N T H E C O U C H
Sarah slid her hand all the way down Clay�s torso in a sensuous sweep that caused his breath to hitch. Fiddling with the snug elastic waistband just peeking out of the loose fit of his jeans, Sarah snapped it once then allowed her hand to disappear under the baggy denim fabric.
A deep groan escaped Clay as her skillful hand found its target. Turning his head towards her stomach, he tongued her navel as she stroked him through the soft fabric of his underwear. Frustrated by her limited reach, Sarah leaned to the right and fell down beside of Clay as he reached up with both hands and finished unbuttoning her jersey.
Just as Sarah was scraping her teeth over one of Clay�s flat, brown nipples, the doorbell rang. Groaning in frustration, and loath to break Clay�s intense concentration, she felt the cool air hitting her backside when the doorbell rang a second time. Placing one last open-mouthed kiss over his abdomen, she gently reached for his head.
Clay had just discovered Sarah�s lack of panties and was quickly divesting her of the sexy lowriders when he felt her tug on his hair. Coming up for air, he finally heard the insistent peal of the doorbell. Shaking his head �no,� he ignored the summons and curved his arm around Sarah�s hips, pulling her closer. Before his mouth could reach its goal, the bell rang for a fourth time.
Defeated, they fell away from one another trying to get their bodies to calm down. Sarah lay back, jerkily trying to button up her jersey, while Clay flung a forearm over his eyes, desperately trying to breathe normally. By the seventh ring, Sarah was able to call out �Coming!� while she refastened her jeans.
Clay shot her an evil glance and muttered, �Glad someone could,� before rolling off the couch and sliding on his hightops; he didn�t even bother trying to fasten his shirt. Stalking to the front door, he flipped on the outside light and waited for Sarah to join him. When she continued to lie on the couch, Clay stalked back into the den and picked her up. Pressing a hard kiss to her lips, he released her legs and steadied her. Sarah reached up and combed his hair back with her fingers, �Whoever it is, dies a slow and painful death.�
Clay cupped her face then slid her tumbled hair behind her ears, �Agreed.�
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DECEMBER 5, 2003 � 10:30 PM
CLAY & MAC�S TOWNHOUSE
ARLINGTON, VA
When the door jerked open, Harm took one look at Clay and lost his resolve. �It�s a bad time. I�ll come back��
�No,� was Clay�s terse response, �as always, you have perfect timing, Harm.� Clay opened the door wider and invited him in.
�Mac with you?� Harm glanced around the spacious townhouse, impressed by how homey it felt.
Clay raised his eyebrows, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. �We�re together Harm. This is Sarah�s house, too.�
Harm nodded and stuck his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Wandering over to a bookcase, he picked up a silver picture frame. Studying the three consecutive images of Mac and Clay clowning around in some crazy costumes brought a twisted smile to his lips. There was Clay standing neatly groomed in some type of Star Trek uniform, while Mac---make that Wonder Woman--- had him trussed up with a golden rope kissing the daylights out of him. �Cute, � he told Clay.
�Yeah, well, you had to be there,� Clay grinned at the---obviously happy---memory. There were other pictures and touches throughout the room that bespoke a happy couple who spent a lot of time together. Harm swallowed hard, feeling that the task he had set for himself would be impossible to complete.
Growing more restless by the minute, Harm picked up a grainy black-and-white photograph that was propped up against a very old and expensive vase. He squinted, trying to make the image more identifiable, but gave up and raised an eyebrow at Clay.
Clay cleared his throat and blushed, but spoke proudly, �Sonogram---just taken yesterday. We�re five weeks along.�
Harm was shocked. �Before the wedding?�
Clay threw him a disgusted look, but before he could say anything, Sarah sailed into the room and asked him, �Why not, Harm?� Sliding her arm around Clay�s waist, she took the time to fasten one of his buttons while Harm sputtered out a response.
Clay blinked slowly, looking from Sarah to Harm, enjoying how Sarah had quickly gained the upper hand with one question.
�I don�t know, Mac. I guess I just figured you�d both go the more traditional route. I mean at your age, to allow an accident to---.�
Sarah cut him off before he could dig himself any deeper---or before Clay does him any real physical harm. �This baby was definitely planned. Right, Darling?� She looked over at Clay, willing him to overlook Harm�s foot-in-mouth disease.
Clay squeezed her hand and smiled graciously. �Absolutely, sweetheart. Nine left to go, right?� Harm didn�t understand what Clay meant by his last question, but Mac�s blush told him it was none of his business.
Feeling like an intruder on some silent conversation they were conducting, Harm cleared his throat. Once he had their attention, he finally decided to just to tell them and get it out of the way. He�d agonized over it enough. Maybe once they knew, they could go back to being friends again.
�I really did have a reason for coming over here,� he started.
�Well, come on in the kitchen and tell us. I�ve got some fresh coffee brewing and there�s some muffins that Clay baked this morning.� Sarah led them into the airy kitchen where tall captain�s chairs were invitingly arranged around a central island.
�Bran?� Harm asked.
Sarah burst out laughing as Clay sheepishly explained, �Sweet tooth, Harm---both of us have it. They�re caramel chocolate chunk.�
Passing on the muffins, Harm sipped his coffee as he watched Mac and Clay slice up some cheese and apples. Once they settled back into their chairs munching on the impromptu snacks, Harm figured he�d better get started.
�Well, I---you see, it�s like this. Uh, Mac, you are the best friend and partner a man like me could ever hope to have. You�ve been there for me through thick and thin, watching out for my six and keeping me on the right track.� Sarah nodded and patted his hand. �I�ll always love you for that, Sarah.�
Clay tensed up at Sarah�s, �I love you, too, Harm,� but decided to let it go since Sarah�s other hand was rubbing up and down his thigh under the top of the island. Popping a piece of apple into his mouth and chewing, he realized that Harm was now addressing him.
�Clay, I really don�t know what to say. Despite all the antagonism over the years, I feel like we�re the best of friends and the worst of enemies,� Harm laughed, but Clay had the uneasy feeling that Harm was about to pull the chair out from under him.
�In fact, I�d go so far as to say that we�re a lot alike in many ways. Maybe that�s what�s made us wary of each other over the years, I don�t know.� Harm threw Clay an apologetic smile, but the tension was getting heavy around the table.
Sarah sipped her coffee and Clay popped in another slice of apple, waiting for Harm to get to the point. Harm reached over, picked up a cube of cheese, and looked at both of them. �Well, uh, ha, ha, you know, it�s really hard just to blurt this out, and I know you�ll have some questions---most of which I�m not even certain I can answer---.�
They both nodded, waiting for Harm to finish. Clay picked up another apple slice, offered it to Sarah, then popped it into his own mouth at her murmured �no thanks.�
�---So, the thing is, I�m hoping we can still be friends.� Again, they both nodded, waiting. �Because after so many years, and so many relationships, I�ve uh, finally accepted the fact that uh----that is to say, uh---.�
He seemed to be looking to Clay for help, but Clay had no idea where this was going. He munched on another apple slice as he looked over at Sarah who seemed to have figured out what was going on. Clay looked back at Harm, exasperated, and spoke around the apple still in his mouth.
�Just spit it out already, Harm!�
�Okay. All right.� Harm took a deep breath and released it, �Mac, Clay, I�m gay.�
Clay swallowed the rest of his apple, shook his head, and looked like he might pass out, while beside of him Sarah slammed both hands down on the counter and quietly declared, �I knew it!�
Harm just looked relieved that it was all out in the open now.
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