Part Two
Author: AD
Rating: PG
Pairing: Webb/Mac
Category: R/H
Spoilers: Not really, but concurrent with Season 9
Disclaimer: Apologies to Paramount & Belisarius Productions for borrowing Clay and having my way with him. I definitely mussed the suit!
Summary: Webb finally gets Mac to Wolf Trap---but will she Tango at Twilight?
Author's Note: It's a simple case of transference. I wanted to go but we couldn't schedule it in, so I allowed OFS to borrow our tickets!
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OCTOBER 25, 2003
WOLF TRAP FARM
VIENNA, VIRGINIA
Mac kept glancing over at Webb, unable to believe they were actually sitting out under the late afternoon sun together. He'd produced a couple of comfortable camp chairs from the trunk of his car and set them up near the main stage. It wasn't yet time to make the short drive to the Duvall farm, so they were enjoying the activities of the local Fall Festival as well as the live music provided by the Wolf Trap Foundation.
She should have known that he was a large contributor to Wolf Trap, but then, there was quite a bit about Clayton's private life that she didn't know. "Why didn't you tell me that you helped set up this foundation?"
Webb uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, a gentle smile curving his lips. "You never asked."
"Would you have ever told me?" Sarah hated to sound like she was cross-examining him, but these simple answers of his could be misleading. She'd been up this same path several times over the past few months.
He spread his hands out wide, encompassing the activities going on around them. "Absolutely! This isn't a need to know issue---I'm proud of the work we do here. Besides, the shock on your face would've been worth it."
Sarah sighed, a bit chagrined to realize how heavily she'd been coming down on him. "Have I been that obvious?"
That smirk of his finally made its appearance, easing her conscience somewhat. "No, but when I got that call from Harriet Roberts, I was a bit surprised."
"Oh, no! Did she really call you?" A slight girlish quality had entered Sarah's voice and Webb was enchanted as he nodded in confirmation. "Oh Clay, that was totally Bud's doing. I was wondering what I should wear and�"
Webb leaned back in his chair, stretching out his long, jeans-clad legs. Sarah stared at the boots he wore and was once again amazed at the many facets of Clayton Webb she had yet to discover. For instance, she'd never realized how big his feet were before. Maybe it was just the cut of the boots, but�"What?"
Webb was definitely smirking now, aware that something about him had distracted Sarah. "I said, all you had to do was ask, Sarah."
She looked startled for a minute, then appeared to get back on track. She pointed at him knowingly and shook her finger. "Yeah, but knowing you, I'd have found several outfits signed, sealed, and delivered within the hour. I wanted to do my own shopping for this event."
Webb looked startled and pleased all at once. "Why?"
"What do you mean, `why'?" Sarah gestured to herself and gave him a disbelieving look. "Because I've been dressing myself for years, that's why."
"No," he corrected her, "why did you think I'd send over something?"
Her gentle smile returned. "Oh. Well, you're thoughtful like that."
"A compliment?" Webb grinned and was obviously about to make a further observation when Sarah held up her hand.
"Shut up, before I take it back." There was a definite gleam in her eyes, but be backed off and looked down at his hand. He'd almost forgotten the cup he held.
Webb's smile grew thoughtful as he took a sip of his mulled cider. Holding the steaming styrofoam cup out to Mac, he offered her a sip.
Although her own cup remained untouched in the holder of the camp chair, she swallowed a generous portion of his freshly spiced apple cider. She actually hummed as she released his cup from her lips. Webb got a shaky feeling inside, "Good?"
Sarah met his eyes, "Perfect. Wonder why things like this taste so much better out in the open under a blue sky and autumn trees?"
"Don't know." He gave her question careful consideration. "For me, I'm thinking it's the company I'm keeping these days. Makes everything perfect." It was hard to concentrate when he stared into her eyes like that.
"Oh, that's so sweet Clayton." She was always amazed at how he could say the most perfect things one minute, then push a little too hard the next. He was definitely tenacious. "Thank you."
"I mean it, Sarah." Yes, there it was---the push. The look in his eyes, however, could melt even the iciest heart. It wasn't that her heart was frozen, it was just a little bruised and uncertain. He certainly knew the cure for a bruised heart, she thought. Staring into his steady eyes, Sarah decided to live for the moment for the rest of the evening.
"I think you do. I really think you do. Here, try some of mine---I put some of those red cinnamon candies in it."
She guided her own cup to his mouth and placed a hand on his warm shoulder. He allowed her this intimacy and the moment held until she realized she'd lost control of the cup. Embarrassed by her clumsiness, Sara set the cup in the holder and used her bare fingers to wipe off the drizzle of cider that had escaped his lips. "Oops, hold on, I'll get it. I wouldn't want to mess up this nice linen shirt of yours."
Clayton simply sat there while she rubbed at his chin. Licking the sticky residue from his lips, he whispered, "I've got more."
A bit shaken by the need that suddenly overwhelmed her, Sarah backed off and admonished him, "Clay-ton! Waste not, want not. Not all of us were born with silver spoons in our mouths."
The sleepy intensity had left his eyes as he became focused on her off-hand comment. "What makes you think I was?"
Wishing she had chosen her words more carefully, Sarah tried to muster a defense. "Well, your mother's estate, the car you drive, your Harvard education�?"
Webb narrowed his eyes and removed a handkerchief from his back pocket. Wiping the remaining cider from his face and offering the square of white cloth to Sarah, he countered with his own observations. "You graduated from Duke and drive a pricey Corvette---couldn't I have earned the money it took to buy these things just like you did?"
"Well, did you?" Sarah rounded here eyes and waited for her point to be made---she had him here.
Then he shocked her with a simple admission: "Most of it---yes."
"I don't understand." She felt like it was the understatement of the year. Years ago, when Webb had faked his own death, Bud had researched Clayton's background. He was definitely from a wealthy family, she was sure of it.
Seeing the doubt on her face, Webb was even more determined to gain her trust, even if it meant sharing a few closely guarded personal secrets. "No, I don't think you do. The question is, do you want to?"
"Y-yes. I think I do. But not right now?" He could see that he had definitely whetted her curiosity. He'd have to be careful or she'd eventually be able to read him like an open book.
"No, not now, Sarah. It's too complicated to explain in one night. Then, again, you might not want to know about the real me." Webb had decided to giver her one last chance to back out. If she wanted to keep it at "just friends," he could live with that. But if there was the remotest of chances for something more, he'd grab it by the horns.
"But I do." Webb felt the relief float through him, but wanted to be certain. He'd learned long ago the folly of assuming things.
Leaning forward in his chair, he stood up. "For curiosity's sake or because you actually care?"
Sarah stood up and placed her hands on his shoulders, her sincerity tangible. "Oh, Clayton, I care. How could I not?"
"I'm not sure sometimes, Sarah." He brushed the hair away from her open shirt collar. "That's where you have the advantage over me. You've known since Paraguay how I feel about you. You've led me to believe that you could feel the same way."
"Yes, I guess I have," she admitted, her eyes locked on his.
His piquant smile appeared and reminded her of all the confidences they had once shared in that bleak compound down in South America. "Well, I've hoped, Sarah. Sometimes that's all we've got. Just hope."
Sarah's hands fell from his shoulders and eased into the back pockets of her jeans. Giving her some space, Webb waited and was surprised to hear her small trill of laughter vibrate in the air surrounding them. "Oh, Clay. Why did you wait until we were in Paraguay to tell me how you've felt? We could have gotten to know each other better long before�"
"No." There was no sense in allowing her to delude herself---or him.
"No?" Sarah's smile faded as she saw the remote hardness enter his features.
"C'mon Sarah, you weren't ready for me. You're not even sure if you are now." Webb placed a hand over her mouth to stop her protest. "And honestly, I wasn't ready either. Trust me, I would have ruined it at some point; that's been my modus operandi at any rate." He grinned and Sarah couldn't help but smile in response; she shared the same track record and he knew it.
"Needless to say, I've slowed down quite a bit over the past year. My priorities have changed. I know what---and who---I need now." He held out his hand and she placed one of hers in it. His grip was sure and strong.
She conceded his point, "Maybe you're right. And then there was---"
"Harm." It was funny how just saying the name wedged a barrier between them.
Sarah sighed. "Yes. Do you really understand about that? About him? In my life?"
"I thought he wasn't in your life anymore, Sarah." Sometimes she just wanted to smack that sanctimonious look off of his face, and he knew it. Holding up his arms to fend off her raised fists, Webb backed away and sat down again. The crowds around them were starting to thin out and it was almost time to change into their eveningwear and head for The Plains.
"Okay, okay. In a way---in a way, I do understand. He's a friend to me, too, Sarah. Harm is a good man." This admission was not a surprise to Sarah, but Clayton's next observation was. "He's a bit more to you, though. He's more than a friend to you and just about everyone who cares about you two knows it."
Sarah didn't deny his statement and he admired her for her honesty. "I'm going to have to trust that you know where you want him in your life. And where you want me---*if* you want me. I trust you in so many ways, Sarah---and I think you enjoy that trust. I just don't know if I trust you to know your own heart." Webb chuckled in a self-deprecating manner, "I'm taking a leap of faith here."
Sarah took her own seat and confessed, "Hey, I am, too. Because I'm trusting you, as well."
This was news to Webb. So far, all he'd received was her distrust. It was frustrating, but understandable. She was just getting to know him as a person and so far she hadn't learned all that much---except that he needed her in his life. "Really? How?"
She leaned forward and cupped his jaw. The sun was setting and an ethereal glow settled around them. "I'm trusting you not to get killed, to be there for me, to be honest with me. Just the usual trust issues."
Webb blew out a soft breath and whistled. "Whew, talk about overestimating me! And if I fail? If I can't control the circumstances or make a mistake?" They'd both stood up and started to re-fold their camp chairs,
"Well," Sarah paused and eyed his lean form suggestively, "I guess that's too bad for me, then---I know you. You'll make mistakes!" She dodged the empty cup he chucked in her direction, then bent down and retrieved it.
Walking towards a large trashcan, she shoved her folded camp chair into his arms and tossed away their styrofoam cups. "I'll be here for you anyway, though. You can trust me to be semper fi, Clayton. In fact, I don't think you have a choice anymore."
Webb was buoyed up by her confession as he placed the portable chairs into the trunk of his car. This particular Marine didn't take that motto lightly. "Okay then, it's semper fi for me too, Sarah. You can count on it."
Clayton slammed the trunk and leaned in for a brief kiss. He was rewarded with not only his intended kiss, but also a tight hug from Sarah.
Glancing at his watch, he realized it was time to change clothes and head for The Plains. "You ready to tango?"
"Yeah, I am." Walking around the car, Sarah had a sudden thought and poked him in the side as he was getting their garment bags from the back seat. "You sure you won't find a better partner and leave me standing in the corner?"
Handing her one of the heavy hangers, he used his free arm to guide her towards the dressing rooms of Wolf Trap's main stage. "Nah, I'm afraid to leave you in the corner---you'd just come out fighting."
"Fighting?" The Marine looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye. "Don't think I can handle that kind of crowd, Mr. Webb?"
He stopped in front of a door marked with a star and placed their hangers on one of the hooks. "Of course, you can. That's the problem. You don't really need me there, but I'm trying to make you think you do." He opened the dressing room door and gestured for her to enter. Inside there were four cubicles guarded by thick curtains. Clayton chose one for her and grabbed their hangers. Looking over at her, he grinned mischievously, "Besides, nobody could pry me from your side tonight. It's taken me eight years to get a date with you and I'm going to enjoy every moment of it."
"Oh, Clayton, you say the most possessive, outdated things. How can any woman resist you?" Sarah purred out as she entered the cubicle and closed the curtain. She could feel his delighted smile through the heavy fabric barrier. She heard his own curtain open and close before he responded.
"I don't know. I've always thought I was irresistible, but I guess some women are just intimidated by perfection." He had the nerve to sound serious when he said that, and it sent Sarah into gales of laughter.
Holding her sides, she managed to step into her new black evening dress and call back out to him, "Right, you just go on thinking that way and introduce your id to your ego, you idiot. You know anything about this film we're going to see?"
She heard him chuckle and open his curtain. "It's supposed to be about this Agency assassin who's sent to Argentina to kill a high- ranking political figure. In the process, he falls in love with a woman and her tango dancing."
He couldn't be serious. "A spy thriller? We're going to watch a spy thriller? Clayton!" Sarah slipped on her shoes and exited the cubicle. Webb was at the lighted mirrors, straightening his black bowtie, when she tapped him on the shoulder and repeated, "We're going to sit through a spy thriller? Us?"
Turning away from the mirror, he ran a hand through his hair and studied her black-clad form with deep appreciation. "I, uh, like to think of it as a romantic comedy. Besides, it's for the Children's Foundation. And there's dancing afterwards." His eyes fairly gleamed with anticipation, "Did I ever tell you that I'm a pretty fair dancer?"
"Nope," From somewhere she recalled Harm telling her Webb was a top-class fencer. That required the agility of a dancer, she supposed. "I don't think it ever came up. Just `fair'?
"Fair as an overall dancer," Webb puffed out his chest in a mocking manner and boasted, "but I am absolutely unbeatable at the Tango."
Sarah couldn't remember the last time she'd had this much fun from just talking. Trying to maintain a serious demeanor was getting difficult. "Modest about it, too, huh?"
He hunched towards her and adopted a confidential tone, "Well, why beat about the bush, Sarah. If you've got it, you've got it." The congratulatory brush of the fingernails to his shoulder nearly broke her control, but if he could carry this off, so could she.
She stepped away from him and hung her other clothes inside the empty garment bag and watched while Webb did the same. "Someone really ought to talk to you about your lack of self-confidence, Clayton."
"I know: it's a constant burden." He zipped up his bag and opened the door for her. "We shy, bashful types---well, you know, being one yourself�"
"Hey! You're the one on the ego trip!" she laughed.
He clasped his hands to his heart and quoted adoringly, "Only because you make me feel like I can do anything." With the garment bag hanging from his chest and his long eyelashes batting, she didn't have a chance. She clutched her own bag to her middle and laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks.
"You rat! Is my mascara running?" Sarah tried to carefully brush away the remnants of her laughter, but she was still giggling. Webb looked all too pleased with himself as he also succumbed to the hilarity of the moment. She shoved her bag at him and went back in to repair her make-up.
When she came out once again, Webb had already put up their bags and was talking to one of the musicians from the live band that had been playing. Walking up to them, Sarah thought she recognized the man.
Webb immediately noticed her approach and broke off his conversation. "Sarah, come meet one of our foundation members. Dave, I'd like you to meet Sarah MacKenzie. Sarah, this is Dave Matthews. He's�"
Sarah grabbed Webb's arm and squeezed a bit too hard in her excitement. While he winced at her exuberance, Sarah was busy eyeing the unpretentious musician before them, "Of the Dave Matthews Band?"
Extricating his arm from her nearly painful grip, Webb made another attempt to finish his introduction, "Yes, and he's---"
"Wow, I love your music." Sarah cut him off again. This time he wisely let Dave take over and just enjoyed the interchange.
"Thanks, Sarah. We try our best," Dave looked over at Webb for guidance but Clay was too busy admiring the excitement on his date's face. Nodding his head in silent understanding, Dave talked about the band's next gigs and his own solo album for a few moments. After a few minutes, Dave saw his wife and children approach and turned around to make the additional introductions.
When the Matthews' finally excused themselves, Webb was able to quickly guide a thoroughly bemused DMB fan into the passenger seat of his silvery blue sports car. As he started the engine, Sarah finally seemed to come out of her fog and asked the one question he had hoped to avoid.
"So, you've played in a rock band? Specifically, with the Dave Matthews Band?" Sarah had definitely lost the adoring tone she'd used on Dave. Still, it wasn't an accusing tone. She sounded intrigued. Webb eased back into the leather seat as he maneuvered them onto the highway.
"Yes." Webb never took his eyes from the road.
"You know that one syllable answer's not good enough, don't you?" She leaned forward and adjusted the heat to a comfortable setting.
"I do." He took one hand off of the wheel and felt around the console.
"That I can be just as tenacious as you can?" Sarah plucked a spearmint out of the cup holder and removed the cellophane for him.
Webb grinned and accepted the candy, "Wouldn't have you any other way. Look in the glove compartment."
"So---, "Sarah opened the glove compartment and found a brand new bag of Hershey's Kisses inside. Grabbing the bag, she tore it open it pulled out a kiss, "---you gonna make me work for it?"
Webb heard the tinfoil wrapper being balled up and the slight groan Sarah couldn't hold back as the pure chocolate hit her tongue, "Depends."
Her, "On what?" was slightly garbled as she went through the ritual of swirling the chocolate around on her tongue before settling it on the roof of her mouth.
Webb dared a brief glance at Sarah's relaxed features before making the turn-off for the Duvall farm, "How well do you tango?"
The ball of tinfoil hit the side of his nose with barely a sound before it bounced onto the windshield and rolled into an air vent.
~~~~~~~FINIS, but I might add an Epilogue, just to see if I can write a tango.~~~~~