Rating: PG-13 (just for a couple of words and a suggestion)
Disclaimer: *I* don�t even claim it.
Summary: Webb & Mac attend a belated baby shower for the Roberts� new addition
Author�s Note: There were quite a few scenes I deleted from my last ficlet, �Cleaning Out the Closet� that had Mac learning a bit more about Webb over the months of his recuperation. I deleted them from the final version of the story because the ficlet was really deviating from what I had intended and was getting REALLY long. You guys have taught me not to �trash� stuff, so I�ve strung a couple of them together. There are a few more that precede this one, but I need to brush them up so they can stand on their own. Sorry for working backwards.
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JULY 15, 2003 � 5 PM (EST)
FAO SCHWARZ
THE SHOPS AT GEORGETOWN PARK
WASHINGTON, DC (M STREET, NW)
�Oh, look at this one, Clay. It�s adorable.� Sarah held out the large pink-plush teddy bear for Clay to see, but he was no longer standing behind her.
�Clay?� Stepping back from the enormous selection of stuffed animals, Sarah clutched the pink bear to her side, and scanned the crowded aisle behind her. Children of all ages, mostly little girls, were examining the multitude of dolls that were displayed along the shelves. Placing her hand on the shoulder of a small girl, she gently squeezed by the mother and child, searching for Clay�s nut-brown hair above the other patrons in the popular toy store.
Maneuvering around stacks of Fisher-Price learning sets and miniature tricycles, Sarah was amazed at the sheer number of toys the store carried. A gentle smile covered her face as it struck her that one day soon she might be bringing her little boy or girl into this store, wandering the aisles and excited with the process of finding the perfect toy.
�Clay?� Sarah called again. A young woman, wearing one of the store�s bright blue smocks, turned at hearing Sarah�s call and approached her.
Pulling out a small 2-way radio, the young woman murmured into it and smiled at Sarah. �Ma�am, has your little boy gotten away from you?�
Grinning at this description of her big bad spook, Sarah automatically nodded and murmured, �I believe he has.�
The woman raised the radio to her lips and Sarah heard her say, �We have a Code Adam in zone three---,� before she grabbed the woman�s arm and corrected her.
�Oh, no. No, really,� she laughingly tried to explain. �Uh, I really am sorry if I misled you. Really I am. I can�t believe this---I sort of lost track of my friend back at the stuffed animals and when you asked, I---,� Sarah broke off, wondering how to make herself clear without seeming like an idiot.
But the woman just nodded, murmured a correction over the radio, and nodded understandingly. �That�s okay, ma�am. It�s just with so many kids wandering around we have to be careful to be on the watch for---well, you know.� Sarah soberly nodded and thanked the woman for her assistance.
�Uh, ma�am?� The young woman turned back around at Sarah�s questioning tone. �Could you point me in the direction of the where the toy guns and similar gadgets might be?� There was a lilting quality to Sarah�s voice as she tried to figure out an area of the store where Clay might have gone.
Pointing over towards the back of the store, the clerk winked at Sarah and wished her luck.
Sarah spent ten fruitless minutes exploring all the aisles containing anything and everything a little boy might need to catch the bad guys, defend the planet, or fight a war.
Pausing at the edge of a group of teenagers playing with some sample video games, Sarah clutched the pink bear more securely to her hip and mentally gridded off the floor plan of the store. Deciding that a strategic search was required, she methodically investigated each department. She hit pay dirt twenty-three minutes later.
It made sense in an obscure way. He was in a department FAO Schwarz labeled �The Classics.� Tin wind-up toys fought for shelf space with wire Slinkies and boxes of wooden dominoes. Retro toys from TV shows and old movies were scattered among games like Mystery Date and Twister. Clay was hunkered down at the end of the long aisle building a tall LEGO empire with two other men. Sarah noted that they had already emptied out at least four boxes of the multicolored plastic pieces.
Fascinated at their intense concentration and the intricate design of their structure, Sarah snuck around to the other side of the aisle where she had seen a beanbag seat. Resting on the bag she was able to look through the shelving and listen to their on-going conversation.
��Not exactly. And I�ll tell you another thing: if Greenspan takes those interest rates any lower it�s not just the private contractors who�ll be screaming bloody murder. Hey, put that blue one over here, why don�t you? Thanks. That�s nothing to what�ll happen to the Asian holdings, though---.�
�I�ll have to disagree with you there, Griggs. The Asian market is on an upswing---although it won�t last long. Get the east tower---yeah, right there, Webb. We�re predicting a European sweep within the next four-to-six weeks, but who the hell can tell these days. Once we brought down Enron---well, it�s going to be a continuing battle on that front. They got you on that one Webb?�
Clay was busily erecting an improbable tower and answered without looking up. �Like I�d be telling you, Marx. But I do agree with Griggs. The contractors are going to pitch a fit and that�ll triple our workload. Damn, catch that side, would�ja Marx?�
�Geez, Webb! You�re piling on too many yellow ones over there, buddy. Look at mine and scale back a bit. Man, I can just hear the director now: all leave suspended, no weekends, and all the holiday details. My wife�ll divorce me for sure this time.�
�Uh, Griggs, speaking of wives, didn�t yours tell you to keep an eye on your kid?� asked the one named Marx.
�Sure, he�s right over---shit! Where�d he get to?� Griggs was looking panicked.
Clay never looked up as he pointed over towards a young red-headed boy who was happily dismantling a Lionel train display, �Over there Griggs; been there the whole time.�
Chuck loudly exhaled a heavy breath and picked up his tie and jacket. �Thank God. You�re as sharp as ever Webb---I owe ya�.�
Clay waved off his thanks and looked up at Marx, then down at his watch. �Weren�t you supposed to meet Nancy and the girls at �Cone E Island� about half an hour ago?�
Marx straightened his tie and gave Clay a superior look. �No---Baby Gap. You�re the one who kept talking about getting some ice cream with your Marine guard. By the way, where�d you leave her?�
�Stuffed animals,� Clay retorted and Marx groaned in commiseration. �Don�t worry Marx, she�ll find me when she wants me. I figured the best thing I could do was stay out of her way while she chooses a gift for the baby shower.�
�You actually going to go to one of those things, man?� Marx looked as though he�d rather walk over hot coals than attend such a function.
�Sure, why not? That�s about my level of activity these days.� Clay sounded a bit tired of the fact.
Marx just shook his head, clapped him cautiously on the shoulder, and headed down the aisle, leaving Clay to tear down and re-box the structural behemoth the men had built.
Clay started a tuneless humming while he filled one box. As he started on the second box, he causally asked, �You going to help me, Mac, or is the surveillance still in effect?�
Sarah rolled off the beanbag and rounded the aisle. �You knew I was over there?� she sputtered, pointing to her hiding place.
�Well, I may not be on active duty, darling, but I�m still a trained professional,� was his mild response. Sarah felt a gentle rebuke from his tone, and let the matter drop. Feeling the silence deepen, she tried to figure out what was wrong.
�Is there something you need to tell me so that I won�t have to walk on eggshells all evening?� she ventured, helping him close up the third box and starting on the fourth.
�No,� was his simple comeback.
�We going for ice cream like you told those guys?� Sarah tried again.
�If you want,� Clay agreed.
�Do *you* want some ice cream?� Sarah was trying to be patient.
Clay sealed up the fourth box and stood up, �Sure.�
Determined not to ask another question, Sarah wandered down the aisle, picked up three items from the shelves, and pushed past Clay. Waiting her turn at the cash register, Sarah fumed and clutched the pink bear tighter. When Clay held out his credit card for the clerk to take, she merely plucked it from his hand, grabbed his wallet, and stuck it back into its proper compartment. Producing her own cash, which happened to be her last two twenties, Sarah accepted the handful of coins from the clerk and stuffed his wallet into her purse.
As they left the store, Clay stared down out her questioningly but didn�t say a word in protest. They walked down M Street until they reached the popular ice cream stand. Ordering two waffle cones with hot fudge and whipped cream over French vanilla, Sarah calmly pulled out his wallet and extracted a ten and two ones. Clay raised his eyebrows but kept quiet. When he held out his hand for his wallet, Sarah defiantly looked him in the eye and put it back in her own purse.
Clay�s lips twitched, but he meekly accepted her stance and reached for his dripping cone.
As they headed back towards the Foggy Bottom Metro line, Clay licked at his messy confection and grinned down at Sarah. A drop of fudge adorned the tip of his nose, but he seemed not to have noticed. Catching his mercurial change of mood, Sarah licked the whipped cream from her upper lip and lightly swung the toy store bag at Clay�s butt. �Feeling better now?�
He nodded his head, quickly trying to catch the melting ice cream with his tongue as it traveled over his hand. Sarah was having her own losing battle with fudge and cream. Standing still for a moment at the bottom of the Metro entrance, they industriously consumed their treats while trying to avoid the jostling of the crowds. Clay finished first, tossing his nearly-empty waffle cone into a trashcan, then produced a clean handkerchief from an inner pocket.
Sarah crunched on her waffle cone, handily licking at her fingers before grabbing Clay�s handkerchief and dabbing at her mouth and chin. Reaching up, she rubbed the chocolate off of Clay�s nose before grabbing his hand and heading for the turn-styles. When they had taken their seats, Sarah looked over at him as though she had finally solved a puzzle. �Back at they toy store you had another flashback didn�t you?�
Clay reluctantly nodded. She caught just the barest of tremors in his hands as he replaced his neatly folded handkerchief. �Trigger?� she pressed. They had both been through plenty of psych evals and knew that identifying and rationalizing the unexpected pneumonic triggers would ease the recurrences of their hellish memories.
Clay avoided her eyes, �Stack of batteries behind the train display.�
�Dear God,� thought Sarah, �this must be a bad one.� One of her worst memories was the echo of his agonized screams as he was being electrocuted by Sadik�s men. Clay had been near death by the time they�d gotten out of that hellhole. Suppressing her own shiver, she suggested, �Let�s skip the party. I�ll call Harriet and make our excuses---she�ll understand.�
�No,� he stubbornly maintained.
�Do you really want to ruin this night for Harriet and the others by exposing them to your diffident moods all night long?� Sarah hated to put it that way, but she felt the need to get Clay alone and wrap him up safely in her arms.
Clay�s haunted eyes looked into her own, �I really need to be with people like the Roberts tonight, Sarah. I promise they�ll never know they have an out-of-control spook in their midst.� Clay smiled at his small joke, but she knew the misery he went through every time one of these spells hit. �Besides, I want to see the baby.�
Well, so did Sarah. Hoping that he hadn�t over-estimated his emotional endurance, they walked towards where Sarah had parked her car at the Vienna station.
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7 PM (EST)
BUD & HARRIET ROBERTS� HOME
Clay was true to his word. No one, from Meredith to Harriet would have guessed the emotional turmoil that hid behind Clay�s dimpled grin. At one point, when the men decided to stage a retreat to Bud�s pool table in the basement, Sarah was certain that Clay really was feeling better. She happily waved to him as he waited for Bud at the door of the kitchen.
Before Bud could join him, Harriet called her husband over and asked him to put their little girl to bed. All the visitors had tired her out and the poor wee thing was starting to fuss. Bud carefully gathered up his baby girl and headed for the stairs with little AJ trailing after him.
All the women called out a happy goodnight to AJ and his little sister then got back to opening the presents, laughing, and eating. In the hallway, Clay watched Bud escort his children up the stairs. As they went by, he eased the door to the kitchen shut and slumped down on the last step of the staircase. Before reaching the upstairs landing, Bud glanced down and saw the weary field agent remove his suit jacket and tie, carefully placing them over the banister. Then he methodically rolled up his sleeves and hunched his shoulders with a sigh.
�Is something wrong, Mr. Webb?� True to form, Bud was very formal when he addressed Clay. Suddenly smiling at the absurdity of it, Clay looked up at the younger man and responded truthfully: �Yes.�
Bud was stumped for a moment, but retraced his steps after telling AJ to go get his pajamas on. Gently adjusting his daughter to a more comfortable position on his shoulder, Bud leveled his prosthesis to the floor landing and perched beside of Clay on the bottom step. Only slightly out of breath, Bud patted his daughter�s back and asked, �Anything I can do to help?�
Clay thought about it for a moment and made a decision. �Two things, really, Bud. And you�re the only one who can do them. But you don�t have to, � Clay assured him.
Bud�s eyes bugged out a little bit then narrowed in suspicion as a sudden thought came to him. Observing his expressions, Clay was exasperated and amused at the same time:
�For God�s sake, Roberts! I�m on limited duty and still recovering---I�m not about to ask you for anything like that,� he defended himself, then got thoughtful, �but thanks for the compliment. Not many people would consider me able to be up to my old tricks yet---if ever again.�
The wariness immediately left Bud�s expression and was gradually replaced with understanding. �Tell me about it, Mr. Webb. Even though I�m back on my, um, feet, so to speak---I�m still a bit shaky at times.�
Clay was silent a moment, considering Bud�s injury of a year ago. Although he considered Bud fully active and as sharp as ever, he supposed his injuries did still feel as raw as Clay�s more recent ones. And the emotional trauma of those injuries�yes, Bud definitely understood. Feeling better in being able to talk to someone with similar experiences, Clay gifted Bud with an open smile that was reflected in his eyes.
�Well, not to my way of thinking, but we all have our crosses to bear. I guess you heard they fried my brain down in Paraguay?� Budd nodded his head. �Well, that can make you a bit shaky, too. Also makes you kind of thankful for the friends you have,� Clay paused a moment then met his eyes. �I consider you one, you know.�
Bud was certain he hadn�t heard the spy correctly. �You do, Mr. Webb?�
�Of course I do. I�ve known you for years haven�t I? Haven�t I been friendly?� Clay was starting to get a bit indignant as Bud had to think it over while he rubbed his baby�s tiny back.
�Yes, sir. I believe sometimes you have.� The thought seemed to please Bud as much as it surprised him.
�Well, then, Roberts, I would be honored if you would at least call me Clay.� The older man looked a bit uncomfortable but was sincere.
Bud secured his daughter with one arm and held out the other to Clay, �And I�m Bud, sir. Thank you for being my friend.� It was obvious that Bud was pleased at having Clay acknowledge their friendship; the handshake sealed the deal.
�Pleasure�s mine, Bud. All mine,� Clay repeated, feeling really good inside right now. �That was one of the things that was bothering me tonight. I�m glad we could clear it up,� there was laughter in Clay�s voice. �Thank you for inviting me over here tonight, my friend.�
Bud�s ears were starting to turn red at Clay�s effusiveness, particularly since he hadn�t exactly invited Clay over. He and Harriet had invited Colonel Mackenzie over. That Clay would accompany her was a given since they were dating now, but if he were perfectly honest, he never expected Clay to actually attend their little impromptu baby shower.
Clay seemed to sense this and his grin just got wider at Bud�s awkwardness. Bud�s uneasiness didn�t last for long and Clay could tell when that sharp legal mind reviewed their conversation and picked up on Clay�s previous request.
�What�s the other thing, then, uh, Clay? The thing only *I* can do for you?� Bud asked as he cradled his little girl and touched her cheek.
Clay looked a bit intimidated, but decided to continue with his request. He really needed to learn how to do this some day. Additionally, his gut told him that he needed the reassurance of life and innocence in his world tonight. �Just show me how to hold her. Let me hold her like Sarah did tonight, Bud.� Then he added a hushed, �Please.�
The young father looked searchingly into Clay�s eyes and then down at his gurgling daughter. Nodding his head, he eased the small bundle away from his chest, and told Clay to hold out his arms. Clay had the general idea, so all Bud had to do was show him how to correctly support the little girl�s head and body. Then he looked on as the healing agent melted under the spell of his baby girl.
Clay seemed to catch on quickly and the young lady seemed entranced with the man who was holding her with growing ease. The small rosebud mouth opened in a bubble of wonder as Clay mimicked her facial expressions and allowed her to hold his index finger.
Bud was getting a kick out of his daughter�s conquest of the tough CIA agent when little AJ came trailing down the stairs and sleepily climbed onto his father�s lap. �Who�s he, Daddy?�
Bud looked over at the sense of wonder on Clayton Webb�s face as he cradled AJ�s sister, then announced, �Son, that�s our friend Clay.�
Turning slightly, Bud hugged the towheaded boy, rotated him around to address the man beside of him. �Clay, this is my son, AJ Roberts,� Bud stated proudly.
Carefully repositioning the sleepy little girl in his left arm, Clay solemnly held his right hand out to young AJ.
First looking up at his father for assurance, then the open hand in front of him, AJ placed his warm little hand into Clay�s. �Hello, Clay,� came the high clear voice of the five-year old.
�It is an absolute pleasure to meet you young Mr. Roberts,� Clay smiled, dimples in full force. AJ again looked up at his Daddy, then shyly smiled at Clay.
�It�s okay to call me AJ,� the young boy whispered confidentially, then giggled.
�Thank you, AJ,� Clay said as he released his hand and looked over at Bud. �You�re a lucky young man, AJ,� he added wistfully.
�Uh-huh,� the boy earnestly agreed. �That�s my sister,� he pointed at the baby Clay was holding. �I thought I wanted a little brother but I got another sister this time. I think God�s gonna let us keep this one,� AJ confided happily, patting his new sister on her wiggling foot. Looking up at Clay, AJ earnestly explained, �My other sister�s in Heaven. Her name�s Sarah. We love her, too, don�t we Daddy?�
Bud�s eyes were bright as he assured AJ that they certainly did. Clay swallowed a couple of times before he could look at Bud, but when he did, Bud saw the respect and compassion in his gaze.
�AJ, you ready for bed, buddy?� Bud asked, swinging his son into his left arm and holding on to the banister with his right one.
�I guess so, Daddy. Do I still get a story?� came the drowsy little voice as Bud carried him up the stairs.
�Absolutely,� was the hearty response.
�Bye, Clay! See ya� soon!� AJ suddenly called out as they turned to go down the upstairs hallway.
�Goodnight, AJ! I hope so!� Clay called back, looking up at their disappearing forms.
The kitchen door opened and Harriet stuck her head out.
�I heard voices and wondered---,� she began, then came up short at seeing her daughter lovingly cradled to Clay�s chest. �Mr. Webb?�
�Harriet, do you think you could call me Clay?� he flashed his dimples as Sarah joined Harriet in the doorway.
�Sure, Mr.-uh-Clay. You want me to take her now so that you can, uh, well, uh---is Bud anywhere around?� Harriet practically squeaked. Sensing her unease at his holding her daughter, Clay stood up but was at a loss at to what to do next.
Sarah approached him and held out her arms expectantly, a twinkle in her eyes. Reluctant to give up the warm, powdery bundle, Clay nevertheless placed her in Sarah�s arms. Immediately the infant began to cry. Sarah tried to soothe the disgruntled little girl, but the crying would not ease up.
Noticing her friend�s disappointment but more concerned over her daughter�s increasing distress, Harriet took over and bundled the infant to her shoulder. The pitiful wails only got louder. Checking her diaper and finding it dry, Harriet decided to try an early feeding. Needing to grab a towel from the kitchen, Harriet frantically looked around for the baby�s portable carrier.
Seeing the young mother searching for something, Clay offered to take the now-screaming baby for a few moments and Harriet gladly let him do so. As soon as the transfer was made, Harriet headed for the kitchen, grabbed a clean dishtowel, and was back within moments.
It was the silence that struck her first. Standing over by the front window, Clay cradled her daughter in front of him while looking into the baby�s tear-laden eyes. As Harriet approached she could see the baby�s flushed cheeks and spiky lashes, but her little girl�s big blue eyes were focused on Clay�s face. Looking over at her friend, she noticed that Sarah�s eyes were also focused on Clay�s face.
Dumbfounded, she too, looked at the wide, awestruck smile on Clayton Webb�s face. Dimples! Boy, did that man have dimples. No wonder her daughter was fascinated. As she watched, Clay�s eyes crinkled in silent laughter as her daughter gurgled at him. He looked up, noticing Harriet standing beside of him, and gently placed the precious girl into her arms. The baby tenaciously clung to Clay�s index finger until he tenderly slid it away.
Seconds later, she smiled and closed her eyes, snuggling into her Mother�s bosom for a well-deserved nap. Harriet looked up at Clay and Sarah who stood looking down at her sleeping baby. Bud was never going to believe this. *She* didn�t believe it. Harriet stared up at Clay consideringly before whispering, �We�re going to talk babysitting services---soon.�
Clay opened his eyes wide and just held Sarah�s hand tighter in his own. �Stay right there,� Harriet warned both of them before climbing the stairs to put the baby down in her crib. However, by the time Harriet had settled the baby, kissed AJ goodnight, and joined her husband downstairs, Sarah and Clay had slipped away.
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LATER THAT SAME NIGHT-10 PM (EST)
CLAY�S TOWNHOUSE
ARLINGTON, VA
Clay was in a mellow mood by the time Sarah dropped him off at his townhouse. Unlocking the front door, he heard the rustle of the toy store bag as Sarah walked up behind him.
�I thought all of that was for the baby. What�s in the bag?� he asked curiously.
Sarah walked past him and through the front door. Clicking on a floor lamp, she dumped the slightly lumpy plastic bag into a chair and opened her handbag. Pasting an innocent expression on her face, she ceremoniously plucked his wallet out of her purse and returned it to him, �Stuff.�
Figuring he�d find out sooner or later, he let it go, and entered the kitchen. Thirsty, he called out, �Something to drink?� Sarah�s response left it up to him so he pulled down two glasses and surveyed the contents of the refrigerator. Frowning at the lone jug of milk sitting on the shelf, Clay filled both glasses and returned to the front room.
Sarah was seated on the thick carpeting surveying her treasures from the bag: a huge box of Crayola crayons was spread out haphazardly beside of a tin of Tinker Toys and a game of Twister. Struggling to lower his healing body down to the carpet, Clay leaned back against the coffee table, fingered the crayons and raised his brow.
Sarah just shrugged. �I figured we could make some of your rehab exercises more fun. Y�know, recover some of that famous Webb dexterity.�
Clay looked intrigued, but frowned at the game of Twister. �I don�t know if I�ll ever be ready for something like that again,� he confessed as he absently rubbed his mending ribs.
A look of pure mischief crossed Sarah�s face as she sidled closer to him. Raising her lips to his ear and lightly caressing his shoulder, Sarah whispered, �Oh, I don�t know, where there�s a will there�s a way.�
�Well,� Clay swallowed, �we could ease into it.�
�Sounds like a plan,� Sarah agreed and opened the box.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~F I N I S ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~