Name: Patty

Email: [email protected]

Title: To Kiss A MockingWebb

Rating: R

Catergories: Best Webb Romance; Best Secondary Character Story

JAG HQ

Falls Church, VA

Tuesday, March 18, 2003

0930 hours

Commander Harmon Rabb stared glumly at the paper in front of him, shaking his head. He fingered the edges, wondering how in the world he was going to get himself out of this with the least possible embarrassment. The fact that he wanted to get out of it startled him almost as much as the assignment itself. Ten years ago, he would have jumped at the chance. Ten years ago, he would have invited his buddies to come watch.

Now, he found himself wondering just when it was that his attitude shifted. When had he realized that something like this would not necessarily cast him in a positive light? His ego conceded that it was the perfect assignment for him, but the part of him that had matured into a 40 year old man was a little appalled at how humiliating it all seemed. Who knew his skills would be perceived to have a marketable value, especially in this arena?

"I’ve assigned each of you an area for which I feel you are uniquely qualified." That’s what Harriet had said as she had handed out the assignment sheets at the end of staff meeting.

As chairperson of the annual charitable event, she had been given the authority to make such a decision. Harm scratched his chin in thought. Lieutenant Harriet Sims had been his friend for a long time and she knew him rather well. ‘Is this how she really sees me?’ He had to admit he was a little disturbed at the implications this raised.

Though last year’s JAG-a-thon had raised considerable money, the SecNav had requested that this year’s charitable event be something that more directly involved the general public. It was a PR move on the Navy’s part, but one that was not unexpected. Support for troops and personnel in all branches of the armed forces had risen since the situation in Iraq had escalated, and the Navy wanted its share of the public relations pie. Holding up the Marines’ Toys for Tots campaign as a standard toward which to strive, the Navy was trying to hit on something that would become recognizable for them and that had the potential to gain national impetus.

Harriet’s suggestion, with SecNav’s approval, was a community fair, complete with game booths, food, entertainment, a petting zoo for the kids, along with low-level naval ordinance on display. If this one in DC was a success, then Harriet’s plan would become the blueprint for naval fairs in other cities around the country. All proceeds from the DC fair would go help the children of those armed forces personnel lost in the war against terrorism in Afghanistan and Iraq.

It was a huge undertaking, one that Harriet had initially shied away from, feeling woefully inadequate. Though the idea was hers, she felt she should hand the reins over to someone who was more qualified than she in planning an event on this grand a scale. But like Moses and the burning bush, the Admiral had convinced Harriet that she was the perfect person for the job and assured her that he had the utmost confidence in her abilities. She had finally agreed, and all her weeks of hard work would be put to the test, as final preparations were now underway.

The fair was scheduled for Saturday at the DC Armory, and promotion from the Navy’s Public Information Office had begun. As an incentive for Navy personnel, a special prize was being offered to the person who raised the most money at their booth: a weekend for two at a plush bed & breakfast along the North Carolina shore. The JAG officers had oohed and aahed over that and had thanked Harriet for her dedication with their appreciative applause.

Harm realized that staff meeting was breaking up and he hurried to catch up with Harriet. "Lieutenant," he called as he followed her through the bullpen. "Can I see you for a moment?"

"Sure, Commander." Harriet smiled, knowing why he wanted to talk to her. He caught up with her at her desk.

"Harriet, you know I would do anything for charity, but I’m not so sure I can do this."

"Come on, Sir, it’s for a good cause!" Harriet’s eyes pleaded with him.

"I know that, but still. There’s going to be a lot of press coverage and I just don’t know that I want to be known as the one who manned this booth."

Harriet feigned disbelief. "Sir, I know for a fact that you have performed numerous brave deeds in service to your country. Are you asking me to believe that you could handle staring down the barrel of a loaded gun or chasing bogies in a dogfight but you are too chicken to tackle this?"

Harm bristled at the insulting question. "I am not chicken! I just don’t know that I would be comfortable doing this. I’m a very private man. This seems so...so...crass."

Harriet sniffed, all joviality gone from her face. "I’m sorry you feel that way, Sir. But the Admiral gave me carte blanche, and that is your assignment. If you find it disagreeable, then I suggest you explain to the Admiral why you are not participating in this year’s event. Now if you’ll excuse me, Commander, I have work to do." Harriet sat down at her desk and picked up a stack of papers, indicating that the conversation was over.

Harm sighed, realizing that all he had accomplished was ticking Harriet off. He momentarily toyed with the idea of trying to trade with someone, but, after looking around, he knew of no one else in the office who would be willing to take on the assignment. It seemed to him that he really was the most qualified, though he wasn’t sure he could handle all the abuse that would be heaped on him in the weeks to come. He would definitely take some ribbing for this.

One thought flitted through his mind, however, as a positive side to it all. Hopefully, Mac would decide that she wanted to visit his booth. Smiling at the possibilities, Harm retreated to his office for the rest of the morning.

JAG cafeteria

Falls Church, VA

Tuesday, March 18, 2003

1210 hours

"May I join you?" Commander Sturgis Turner motioned toward the empty seat beside Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. She had been lost in thought and hadn’t heard him approach.

"Of course. I would love the company."

Sturgis nodded his thanks, then placed his tray on the table and sat down. Mac leaned over in his direction and cocked an eyebrow.

"I hope you don’t think me rude, but what is that?" Mac pointed to the brown slice on his plate.

"Truthfully, Mac, I’m not sure. The sign said meat loaf. That could mean anything from Seattle Slew to old tennis shoes."

Mac chuckled. Sturgis was a man of few words, but when he allowed his wit to show, it was dry and subtle. She felt privileged that he was comfortable enough with her to let it out to play now and then. Though they often failed to see eye-to-eye, Sturgis always respected her opinion and never derided her for her beliefs. She was glad she could count him as one of her friends.

"You’re braver than me, Commander. I thought school food was bad growing up, but sometimes..." She left the unfinished sentence trail off, a silent testament to the often questionable fare produced by JAG’s cafeteria. She watched as Sturgis cautiously took a bite, then nodded his approval.

"It tastes better than it looks. So, what booth did our enthusiastic lieutenant put you in charge of?"

Mac smiled. "The Admiral and I are in charge of the shooting gallery."

Sturgis’ expression showed his surprise. "You got paired up with the Admiral? Lucky you. I’m helping out with ordinance."

Mac shrugged her shoulders. "To be honest, I really don’t care what I do. I usually enjoy helping out wherever I can. Actually, I think Harriet did an excellent job of matching personnel with positions. I guess she figured my marksmanship scores were worthy of the shooting gallery. And I must admit, I’m glad I got partnered with the Admiral. Some of the alternatives may not have been as pleasant."

"Meaning?"

‘Meaning I could have ended up listening to Harm whine for a whole Saturday,’ she thought.

"Meaning I could have ended up at the petting zoo with Singer, though I would have had to do something really horrible to have Harriet inflict that punishment on me."

Sturgis smiled and nodded. "A fate I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy." He paused. "What booth does Harm have?" Though not obvious to the casual observer, Sturgis noticed the change in Mac’s outward demeanor at the mention of her partner’s name. There had been tension between the two of them for months, leading Sturgis to believe that Mac’s pronouncement of a year ago, telling him that she was in love with Harm, was no longer valid.

Mac shook her head. "I don’t know. He avoided the question when I asked, then made himself scarce the rest of the morning. Though, if the look on his face at staff meeting is any indication, I don’t think he was pleased with his assignment. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was embarrassed. But this is Harm we’re talking about."

Sturgis chuckled. "Yes, I seem to remember him being embarrassed once, many years ago. Though, to hear him tell it, it was sunburn."

Mac laughed with him, while at the same time wondering what was going on with Harm. He had seemed uncomfortable with his assignment, and had taken off after Harriet the minute staff meeting was over. Well, whatever his problem was, she hoped he wouldn’t put a damper on her enjoyment of the day. ‘What a turn around! Just a few months ago I would have given anything to be partnered with Harm for this. Now, I’m glad I’m not.’ Mac started when she realized Sturgis was talking to her.

"Mac?"

"Sorry. Guess I zoned out for a moment. I didn’t get much sleep last night."

"I understand. Listen, I hate to eat and run, but I have to be in Annapolis by 1400 for a deposition."

"Thanks for eating lunch with me, Sturgis. I enjoyed it." Mac smiled at his retreating back, then gathered her things and took them to the trash. She still had ten minutes before she had to be back upstairs, so she walked around towards the front of the building and settled on a bench under a cluster of trees.

‘When did life become so complicated?’ When had she finally decided that Harmon Rabb, Jr. was no longer worth the effort? A kaleidoscope of instances played through her mind: snide comments, hurtful remarks, girlfriends, Afghanistan, the Seahawk, Norfolk. All pointed towards the realization that the fairy tale she had created about the two of them was just that – a fairy tale. Though he was a good man and her best friend, she knew that he would never be more than that. Though he may love her on some level, it wasn’t enough or the right kind of love to sustain them through years of marriage.

She thought back to the Friday night when she had finally accepted that fact, over a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a box of Puffs. For six years, when she thought about having children, she had always seen him as the father. When she had envisioned herself growing old with someone, it was always him by her side. The loss of that dream left her bereft and grieving. She had spent that entire weekend locked in her apartment, crying, cursing, and healing. In the end, she emerged Monday morning with a new self-awareness and determination that she would not fall under his spell again. Though there was a huge hole in her heart, she knew that somewhere out there was someone for her, someone who would compliment and complete her. She just had to find him.

JAG HQ

Fall Church, VA

Tuesday, March 18, 2003

1420 hours

Clayton Webb stared at the floor numbers as the elevator rose with a groan. ‘Nice to see some things don’t change,’ he thought ruefully. Webb had returned from Suriname three days ago, and after a weekend of seclusion, relishing the comfort of being in his own bed, he decided to let people know he was back in town with personal visits. He shuffled his feet impatiently and was surprised to find a nervous knot in his stomach. ‘Jeez, old man, what’s the matter with you? It’s not like Osama bin Laden’s waiting for the elevator doors to open. You’ve been in more death-defying situations than you can count. Lighten up…it’s only JAG!’ With that reassuring pep talk under his belt, he stepped off the elevator and surveyed the scene in front of him.

Though some of the personnel had been reassigned since he last set foot in this office, it felt familiar. In many ways, it was almost like he had never left. After his banishment to Suriname, Sarah Mackenzie had made an effort to keep him informed of the news and tidbits of gossip from the home front. What had begun with an email expressing sympathy for him having to suffer the wrath of his highly embarrassed and politically motivated superior had rapidly turned into a welcomed addiction.

In retrospect, he was sure she was originally motivated purely by guilt because she thought it was her idiot partner’s bullheaded persistence that landed Webb in that little backwater country. He had been quick to point out that it was ultimately his decision to turn over the Angel Shark tape, and he had been aware that there would be consequences.

They had moved on from there, the distance allowing them to share little pieces of their lives and use each other for a sounding board. He found himself wanting to ask her advice, or share his frustrations with her, and he was more than happy to listen and offer his thoughts on cases when she asked. A solid friendship had developed in cyberspace, one that Webb was unsure would be able to stand up to a closer personal contact, especially with Rabb hovering around her as he always did. ‘Well, better to find out now.’

He didn’t have to wait long before someone noticed him. Harriet looked up from her desk and, upon recognizing him, smiled broadly and moved toward him. "Mr. Webb! How wonderful to see you," she greeted him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hugging him warmly. Webb was startled by the affectionate embrace, but recovered quickly and willingly returned it. "Are you here to stay, or just visiting?"

Webb took a small step backwards, not letting go of her arms. "I’m here to stay, for now anyway. Wow! Apparently I’ve missed a few things since I’ve been away." He looked down at Harriet’s expanding abdomen.

Harriet blushed and smiled, then rubbed one hand over her belly. "We found out at Christmas. So far, everything’s been great."

Webb nodded. "Sarah told me about your news, but I had forgotten until I saw you."

Harriet made a mental note of Webb using Mac’s first name. ‘When did that happen?’

She then asked, "Are you here to see anyone in particular?"

Webb dropped his arms and looked around before answering. "Nope, just stopped by to see how things were going. I was recalled so fast that I didn’t have time to let anyone know I was coming home. So, I though I’d just drop by."

Harriet studied the CIA agent for a moment, surprised at his casual attitude. Outward appearances could be deceiving, especially where the enigmatic spy was concerned, but she had a feeling that Clayton Webb had returned from Suriname a different man.

Harriet patted his arm. "Believe me, things have been dull around here without you." She moved back around her desk. "Would you like me to let the Admiral know you’re here?"

"Actually, I was hoping to see Sar...uh, the Colonel first. Is she available?"

Harriet smiled at his slip, then picked up the phone. "I’ll let her know she has a visitor."

Webb walked slowly towards Mac’s office, wondering briefly how she would react to the news of his presence. In a matter of seconds, her door was flung open and she was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and her toe tapping. ‘Okay, not exactly the enthusiastic greeting I envisioned in my dream last night. But, God, is she beautiful!’ As he approached her, he could see the smile she was trying hard to hide.

"You could have given me some warning, Webb!" Mac tried to sound irritated, but instead it came out with a hint of playfulness.

"Nice to see you, too, MacKenzie." Webb slung back. They stood and stared at each other for a moment before Mac finally caved and allowed a grin to light up her face. She stepped into his personal space and gave him a gentle hug, whispering in his ear, "Welcome home, Super Spy!"

Webb chuckled and graced her with something she’d never seen before: a full-blown Clayton Webb smile, complete with dimples. "Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know, but I was hustled out of there with only 48 hours notice and I really didn’t have time."

Mac stepped back out of his arms, mentally shaking herself. ‘What a smile! It’s a shame he doesn’t use it more often. It could probably get better results than Harm’s.’

"You’re forgiven." She motioned for him to take a seat, then perched herself on the edge of her desk. "Have you been reinstated?"

Webb crossed his legs and played with his shoe before answering. "Not completely. I may never see deputy director again, though that may only last as long as Watts is DCI. But, I’m back in the fold, so to speak. I have my office back, complete with fish and Diana. I really can’t ask for more than that right now."

Mac nodded, wondering if Diana was his secretary. ‘Of course she is. He wouldn’t have a girlfriend that came with the office. Stop being silly, Marine! She realized she was daydreaming for the second time that day, picturing Webb with his secretary on his lap, and feeling the beginning pangs of jealousy, when she noticed him leaning forward in his chair, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

"Sorry. I have a habit of doing that today. Lack of sleep."

Webb smiled again. "I hope you didn’t have to be in court this morning."

"No, and it’s probably a good thing I didn’t. Though if I had, I might be a little more alert." Mac pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and finger, willing herself to focus.

There was an awkward silence followed by Webb cautiously asking, "Need some caffeine?"

Mac realized that Webb had stood, and she looked up into his expectant face. "You buying?"

"Of course." Webb motioned her towards the door and placed his hand at the small of her back to guide her.

They had almost made it to the elevator when the Admiral’s voice boomed across the bullpen. "Sneaking out without saying hello, Webb?"

"Wouldn’t dream of it, AJ. Just borrowing your Chief of Staff for a moment. Figured I’d try plying her with the beverage of her choice in hopes of getting some interesting intel." Webb had turned slightly to throw his retort over his shoulder at AJ, but hadn’t moved his hand from where it rested on Mac’s back, a fact that AJ was quick to notice. "We won’t be long," Webb promised as he guided her onto the elevator.

AJ stopped beside Harriet. "Know what that was all about?"

"No, Sir," Harriet shook her head. "I know the Colonel has kept in touch with Mr. Webb since he was in South America. And he called her Sarah."

That tidbit of information made AJ raise his eyebrows. "I wonder if I should be worried," he questioned, almost to himself. "No matter. When Commander Rabb returns, please let him know that I wish to see him immediately."

Starbucks

Falls Church, VA

Tuesday, March 18, 2003

1440 hours

"So tell me, when *did* you get back?" Mac asked as she took a sip of her coffee. She’d been surprised to see the spy in the JAG office, figuring he would have let her know he was being recalled. But she was definitely glad to see him.

She allowed her eyes to wander briefly from his face as he sat across from her. Though she’d always considered him a handsome man, she was bowled over by how good he looked. Suriname had certainly done him no harm physically! His skin was tanned, making his hazel eyes stand out brilliantly. His dark hair was a little longer, causing one lock to fall over his forehead with regularity. And though he was wearing his usual three piece "armor," she could tell he was trimmer than when he left. The suit hung just a little on his frame.

Mac tried to bring her focus back to what Webb was saying, realizing that he was answering her question.

"Three days ago, actually. I spent most of the weekend sleeping and retrieving my life here from my mother." At Mac’s puzzled look, he elaborated. "Bills, bank statements…"

Mac nodded. "It was great that she could take care of all that for you."

"Yeah, I’m going to owe her for years to come." Webb played with the lid on his cup. "So, what’s new at JAG?"

Mac rested her chin on her hand. "You mean ‘As the JAG Turns?’ Let’s see, since last week, Sturgis broke up with Bobbie Latham, Harm has a new girlfriend, and Renee sent him a birth announcement. She and the mortician had a little girl."

"How’d he take it?"

"He seemed happy for her. I don’t think he has any regrets." Mac quickly changed the subject, not wanting to discuss her absent partner. "Are you back at Langley permanently, or languishing in limbo, waiting for reassignment?"

Webb smiled. "A little of both. I was in the office this morning, but I’m not supposed to get too comfortable. There are problems in the Middle East..."

"Really? I hadn’t heard," Mac interrupted.

"Imagine that. As I was saying, things are heating up and I will most likely be sent over in the next few weeks."

"So enjoy D.C. while you can, huh?"

Webb nodded, looking slightly dejected at the thought of leaving again.

Thinking that perhaps Webb needed an opportunity to reconnect with the community he called home, she asked, "What are you doing Saturday?"

Webb shook his head. "Nothing on the calendar at the moment. Why?"

Mac took a deep breath. "Well, the Navy is having a community fair at the Armory. I thought, if you’re not busy, you might like to stop by."

Webb looked unconvinced. "A community fair? Isn’t that a little...hokey?"

"It was Harriet’s idea, and the SecNav loved it. There’ll be games and food, and navy toys for people to look at."

"What, no sub?"

Mac shot him a glare.

Webb smirked at her. "Like I said. Hokey."

"Come on...it could be fun, if you give it a chance."

"Define fun."

"Fine." Mac waved her hand dismissively at him. "The Admiral and I are running the shooting gallery, and I was hoping you’d stop by, but I wouldn’t want to put you out." Mac feigned indifference.

"Now there’s an incentive...like I want to be anywhere near you when you have a weapon in your hand. I consider myself fortunate you haven’t shot me in the last seven years. Why would I want to push my luck?"

"They’re laser weapons, idiot!" Mac saw him trying to hide his smile.

"Where you’re concerned, Sarah, a loaf of bread is a potential weapon."

"Are you implying I’m volatile?"

"I’m implying you’re a skilled soldier and I need to watch my ass."

Mac winked. "Watch your mouth and your ass wouldn’t be in trouble."

Webb’s eyes never left her as she stood, then tossed her trash away in the trashcan. She stopped and waited patiently by the door for him to join her, fully aware that he was watching her. She nodded her thanks as he brushed past her and held the door for her, then fell into step beside her. "I suppose I can stop over and check it out. The shooting gallery, huh? With AJ?"

"Should prove interesting."

"Okay." They stopped in front of the JAG offices. "Want me to walk you up?"

"You’d better," Mac advised. "Remember you told the Admiral you’d be back to say hello."

"Oh, I guess I did. Might as well get it over with." Webb sighed, then followed her upstairs.

Harmon Rabb’s Apartment

North of Union Station

Tuesday, March 18, 2003

1555 hours

Harm threw the last of his clothes into the duffle bag and zipped it shut. The Admiral was sending him on a month-long TAD aboard the USS Patrick Henry as a replacement for the on-board JAG officer who was on medical leave. Though he always looked forward to carrier assignments, part of him felt a little guilty at the immense relief he felt because of the timing. He hadn’t wanted to disappoint Harriet, but he couldn’t refuse the Admiral. His only regret was that he wouldn’t have the opportunity to show Mac how well suited he was for his booth. His last thought as he pulled his apartment door shut behind him was, ‘I wonder what poor schlep Harriet will get to replace me?’

Sarah MacKenzie’s Apartment

Georgetown

March 19, 2003

2130 hours

"A kissing booth?!"

"Yes, ma’am," Harriet’s voice was flustered and apologetic in the wake of Mac’s shrill outburst. "He seemed like the logical choice."

"Why do you think I should replace him?"

Harriet paused for a moment, then meekly responded, "I took a survey."

Mac was speechless.

"Ma’am?"

"You took a survey?" Mac whispered, still too stunned to think clearly.

"Yes, well, when I found out that the Admiral had sent the Commander on assignment, I didn’t know what to do. So, I went around the office and asked everyone who they thought would be a good candidate to man the kissing booth."

Harriet tried to sound enthusiastic. "It was practically unanimous. Even the female personnel felt that you would be the best person to bring in the most money."

Mac slumped down into the cushions of the sofa and closed her eyes. ‘Why me? I haven’t had a date since Mic left and in three days I’ll be kissing any man who gives me a dollar!’

"Ma’am, I know I’m asking a lot, but I’ll tell you the same thing I told the Commander...it’s for a good cause. I promise I’ll keep you supplied with Chap Stick. And who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone interesting. Please?" Harriet was not above begging if she had to.

Mac found herself laughing. "All right! All right! You win. Who can refuse such blatant attempts to manipulate my conscience? There will be rules for the kissees to follow, right?"

Mac could hear the gratitude in Harriet’s voice. "Oh, yes. They have to stand with their hands behind their backs...no touching you. Of course, you can touch them, if you want to. And only one kiss per dollar. Once they break contact, they’re done."

"Can they visit more than once?"

"As long as they have money, they can come back. Hopefully, the really bad kissers won’t be the ones returning. Oh, and they have to be over eighteen. Heaven forbid a fifteen year old comes up and shoves his tongue down your throat!"

"Harriet!" Mac squealed.

Their conversation ended with Harriet promising to supply Mac with all the pertinent information the next day.

Mac sighed and went into her bedroom to change out of her uniform. ‘I’m going to kill him!’ she thought to herself. ‘He has to be the luckiest bastard on the face of the earth. As many times as he’s crashed a plane...and now this. He’d better thank his lucky stars that he’s on a carrier in the Atlantic right now.’

As she turned out the light and crawled into bed, she reminded herself that Harriet could be right. Perhaps she would meet someone. Maybe someone who would sweep her off her feet. Sudden apprehension gripped her as she thought of all the toads she’d have to kiss before finding a prince. ‘I’m going to kill him!’

DC Armory

Washington, D.C.

March 21, 2003

1030 hours

Webb rubbed his hands on his thighs and took a deep breath. His nerves were getting the best of him and it was making him decidedly uncomfortable. In the field, his life depended on him being in control at all times, but today he felt wildly out of control. All the power resided with Sarah MacKenzie. And he definitely didn’t need her knowing that.

Ever since their talk at Starbuck’s, Mac was the only thing Webb could think of: the sound of her voice, the sparkle in her eye as she teased him, the lilt of her laughter as he teased back. He was grateful to know that their long-distance friendship would survive closer encounters, but he wasn’t sure if he would survive what being around Sarah MacKenzie did to him.

He had dressed and redressed four times, trying to decide what to wear. He had felt comfortable in his three piece suit, but knew wearing it would be a mistake. Not only would he would draw attention to himself in the casual family setting, but Mac would tease him mercilessly for wearing his ‘uniform.’ He had finally settled on a pair of old jeans, a white button down shirt, sneakers and his favorite leather jacket. He chose this knowing that it would shock Mac to see another side of him. He wanted to keep her off-balance. It was the only way he would maintain the upper hand.

Drawing another deep breath, Webb followed the crowd into the Armory. He was surprised to see such a large turn-out, but knew that patriotism and troop support were hot commodities right now. And though he had led Mac to believe that he thought the whole fair idea a hokey one, in truth he admired Harriet her spirit and determination. If anyone could pull this off, it would be Lieutenant Sims.

Webb stopped inside the entrance and surveyed the scene before him. Mac had told him she was manning the shooting gallery with AJ, and he decided to find her first. That way, she would know he’d taken her invitation seriously, and maybe he could convince her to spend her break with him. Spying the two-star admiral over the crowd, Webb headed in his direction.

As he approached the shooting gallery, he noticed Mac was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, AJ. How’s the shooting business?"

"Webb! I’m surprised to see you here."

"I was guilted into doing my civic duty."

AJ waved toward the booth behind him. "Care to join me? Moving targets are so much more fun."

"Yeah, I have nightmares about that. I’ll pass, thanks. Where’s Mac? I thought she was helping out here?" Webb tried to sound casual, but AJ had a sneaking suspicion that Mac was the main reason for Webb’s appearance at the fair.

"She took over Rabb’s booth since he’s TAD."

"Really?" Webb’s eyes made a systematic sweep of the area, searching for the brunette.

"She’s over there in the corner," AJ pointed in Mac’s direction, never taking his eyes from Webb’s face. It was all he could do not to laugh out loud when he saw the curiosity turn to shock. AJ continued to observe the spy, and knew the moment Webb got over his shock and mischief took its place. "I think I’ll go say hi."

Harriet appeared instantly at AJ’s elbow. "Sir?"

"It appears, Mrs. Roberts, that our dear Colonel neglected to update her ‘friend’ on what her duties would be today. I think she’s in for a little surprise."

"Think he’ll try to distract her?" Harriet speculated.

"No, I think he’s going to get in line."

Sure enough, the pair watched as Webb strolled over and took his place at the end of the line.

"Lieutenant," AJ said as he rubbed his chin, "things are going to get very interesting very quickly."

"Yes, Sir."

*****

Mac smiled at the older gentleman and thanked him as he turned to leave. ‘My lips are tired and I haven’t even been doing this for an hour! At least the last one was gentle.’ She bent over to retrieve the water bottle hidden under the booth.

When she stood up, her eyes met the most gorgeous pair of hazel eyes she had ever seen. Familiar eyes. ‘Oh, my God! Clay!’ Mac froze, her mind unable to grasp the fact that Clayton Webb was standing in her line, waiting to be kissed. ‘Jeez, he looks so sexy. What do I do? How can I kiss him?’ She could feel the blush rising in her cheeks.

"Earth to Sarah!" Webb’s voice was low and teasing.

"Clay, what are you doing here?" Compared to his sexy tone, Mac sounded panicked.

"You invited me, remember?" A hint of his usual smirk played at his lips as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

"I will never live this down, will I?" she hissed in exasperation.

"Depends on how good you kiss." Gauntlet thrown.

"You doubt my abilities?" She pointed to the basket holding the cash donations. "Put your money where your mouth is." Challenge accepted.

Webb stepped up to the booth and tossed his dollar in the basket. He then placed his hands behind his back and leaned forward, whispering, "I’d rather put my mouth where your mouth is."

Instant heat flooded Mac’s cheeks as his suggestive words registered, but she determined that he was not going to win the upper hand. Her eyes flashed as she retorted, "Consider it done." Grabbing him by the jacket, she yanked him forward over the booth and pressed her lips to his as whoops and catcalls met her ears. The kiss started out less than gentle, but as it progressed their lips relaxed and a restrained passion took over. When the two finally broke for air, Mac wore a dazed expression. Some part of her brain was still functioning as she noticed that Webb’s eyes had changed from hazel to a deep green. ‘Damn, where did he learn to kiss like that?’ Mac unclenched her fingers from his jacket and leaned back, licking her lips.

Mac was not the only one affected by their kiss. As their lips met, Webb felt a surge of electricity that went from where they were joined to the tips of his toes. He marveled at how soft her lips were and how responsive she was. Every fantasy he ever had about their first kiss was blown out of the water by reality, and it was all he could do to keep his arms behind his back and not reach out for her. As they parted, he took a small measure of pride in the fact that he was the one to bring the blush to her cheeks. When she released him, he stepped back, watching her lick her lips. He groaned but said nothing, instead he winked at her and moved to stand at the back of the line.

‘So, that’s how we’re going to play this game, hmm?’ She placed her hands on her hips and stared towards the back of the line, then shook her head and smiled at the next man waiting his turn. A nice enough looking man, but he was no Clayton Webb.

*****

Over at the shooting gallery, unbeknownst to Mac and Webb, the Navy JAG and his lieutenant watched the proceedings with amusement.

"It would appear, Sir, that our resident spy has surprised our Chief of Staff."

"Yes, darlin’, I do believe you’re right. Though the spy looks a little shaken himself."

"Shaken, stirred, and sent ass over tin cup if you ask me."

AJ chuckled at Harriet’s choice of words. "It’s a pity our Mr. Rabb wasn’t here to witness this."

"It’s probably best, Sir. I read in the contract that the Armory has very strict rules about the use of pyrotechnics indoors," Harriet delivered this line with a straight face.

AJ’s only response was to throw his head back and laugh heartily. He patted her arm and said, "Let me know when round two is about to begin."

*****

When Webb stood before her a second time, Mac tried very hard to keep a stern look on her face. But her resolve crumbled when Webb leaned over and this time whispered, "I’m glad I wore the jacket so you’d have something to grab."

She laughed, then leaned on the booth and answered, "Oh, I don’t know, Clay...I’m sure I could find lots of things to grab instead of the jacket." She waggled her eyebrows at him when she saw it was his turn to blush. ‘So, I can make Clayton Webb blush. That’s useful to know!’

It had taken several minutes and thoughts of expense reports and satellite photos to tamp down his arousal after the first kiss. Now, with one sentence, it flared hot again. Images of Sarah MacKenzie clutching various parts of his naked body with various parts of her naked body in various stages of passion flooded his mind, and he forced himself to maintain control, though he could feel the heat rising in his face. Deciding to joke his way out of the situation, he offered, "Well, it is a charity event."

Mac leaned closer. "Are you implying you’re a charity case?"

Webb’s smile was half-hearted. "I think that’s a given."

Mac considered him quietly for a moment, causing Webb to shift uncomfortably under her scrutiny. Reaching her hands up, she placed one on each of his cheeks and pulled him close. "I think you’re being too hard on yourself," she whispered against his mouth, before capturing his lips with hers. This time the kiss was tender and sweet, and they both sighed when they parted. Mac ran her thumb over Webb’s bottom lip before taking her hands away from his face. They held each other’s eyes for a moment longer, then Webb turned and once again headed for the back of the line.

*****

Several hours later, AJ joined Harriet as she stood watching the Kissing Booth. "How fare our pair?" he asked.

"Well, Clayton has been through the line seventeen times. They’ve shared passionate kisses, tender kisses, kisses where they laugh and joke around. He only got out of line once, and that was to go get her a soda."

"You’re kidding!" AJ marveled at the younger man’s patience.

"Could I make something like that up? I think both of them are completely smitten. Well, she’s only got another 15 minutes. Preliminary results indicate that the Colonel is tied with Petty Officer Wilson for first place in the B & B contest. As popular as her booth has been, I thought for sure she would win in a landslide."

The Admiral snorted. "I think Webb’s made half of that contribution." Suddenly, AJ’s eyes lit up.

Harriet looked at her commanding officer with suspicion. "Sir, with all due respect, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you have something up your sleeve."

"Watch and learn, Lieutenant."

AJ made his way over to Webb, who was once again at the end of the line. "A word, Clayton."

Webb was taken aback by the Admiral’s use of his first name, but didn’t let it show. "What can I do for you, AJ?"

AJ quickly explained the situation between Mac and PO Wilson. "Of course, I wouldn’t want to use my command position to influence the outcome of the contest, but if someone who was outside of my chain of command, say yourself, were to make sure that one of the contestants won, it would, of course, be completely beyond my control."

Webb nodded, knowing what AJ was getting at. Mac could use a vacation, and a weekend for two at a B & B was just the ticket. Who knows, maybe he could get her to invite him along. "Well, I could always decide that her kisses were worth more than a dollar."

AJ smiled. "Time’s running out. This will probably be your last trip through the line, so I’d make it good if I were you." AJ started to walk away, then turned back to Webb. "Oh, if I were in your position, I wouldn’t make her kisses worth more. I’d make her owe them to you." AJ winked, then returned to Harriet’s side.

Webb contemplated AJ’s scheme. ‘He’s practically giving me permission to date her, the devil.’ Confident in his plan, Webb patiently waited his turn, trying to decide exactly how to collect on the debt she would owe him.

Harriet watched the spy trying to hide his exuberance. "What did you say to him, Sir?"

"I gave him my blessing, Lieutenant. And a means of seduction."

"Sir?" Harriet questioned, both shocked and intrigued.

"I simply pointed out that Mac was in a tie to win the contest and left it open to interpretation. Mr. Webb suggested perhaps he would consider making her kisses worth more than a dollar, and I told him that if I were going to pad the pot, so to speak, I would make her owe me the extra kisses instead."

"Sir!" Harriet pretended to be appalled.

"Knock it off, Harriet. You’re just sorry you didn’t think of it first."

Harriet closed her lips tight and didn’t say anything more.

"Come on, I want to watch the fun up close." AJ grabbed Harriet by the elbow and headed for Mac’s booth.

*****

Webb had observed the two JAG officers move closer to Mac. Catching Harriet’s eye, Webb pointed to his wrist, asking how much time was left. Harriet held up four fingers. Webb was third from the front, and as he got closer he kept a watch on Harriet out of the corner of his eye. When it was his turn, Harriet shook her head, and Webb motioned the man behind him to go ahead. Webb knew that it would be much more effective for him to be the last man she kissed. At Harriet’s signal, he finally moved forward into place.

"I guess this is it, Sarah." Webb tilted his head, trying to gauge her reaction. He wasn’t disappointed, as she stuck her lower lip out in an unconscious pout. "However, I have enjoyed today so much, that I have decided to give a little extra to the cause." Webb then reached into his wallet and pulled out a one hundred dollar bill, dropping it in Mac’s basket. He knew that was more than enough to secure her win.

Mac’s eyes widened in surprise, then she smiled a radiant smile. Grabbing his jacket and pulling him forward, she teased, "For old times sake," before kissing him soundly. Unlike all the previous kisses, this time she allowed her tongue to brush across his lips in invitation. Webb needed no further urging, and he opened his lips to her, granting her tongue entrance and sucking it deep into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around hers, then allowed her to withdraw, conscious of the audience they had. They parted smiling, then turned in unison as Harriet announced the close of the booth.

Mac stepped back and took a deep breath, then handed her basket to Harriet. She moved around to the front of the booth, slipped her arm through Webb’s and asked, "Five a day for twenty days? Ten a day for ten days? What suits you?" Webb looked at her in confusion for a moment before it registered that she was offering him what he was planning to ask for. He briefly glanced at AJ, who was trying to hide his amusement behind his hand, then answered, "I think five a day for twenty days. We wouldn’t want to overwhelm you, after the workout you’ve had today."

"You’re a funny man, Webb."

"Glad you think so, MacKenzie." Nodding in the direction of the other officers, he bid them goodbye. "AJ. Nice to see you. Harriet, wonderful job. I’d say the fair was a success." He turned to Mac and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Sarah. I’ll see you Monday morning, bright and early."

"Monday morning?"

"Umm-hmm," he affirmed as he started to walk away. "Five kisses. Perfect way to start the day." Whistling to himself, he walked away.

Mac watched him go with a puzzled look on her face. Turning to Harriet, she asked, "What just happened here?" before she, too, walked away.

AJ smiled at Harriet. "The seduction begins," he whispered cryptically, then he headed back to the shooting gallery to wrap things up.

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

March 24, 2003

0735 hours

Monday morning found Mac hurrying to get to work before anyone else, sure that she could arrive in advance of the spy, thus giving her the advantage. She had thought of nothing else but their kisses the rest of the weekend, replaying the day over and over in her mind, and by the time she stepped out of the elevator the anticipation had her practically in a frenzy. Her hopes of gaining the advantage were dashed, however, when she walked into her office and found him waiting for her, sitting behind her desk with his feet propped up.

His greeting was clipped and business-like. "Good morning, Colonel."

"Good morning, Webb. I wasn’t expecting you so early."

"I have a busy day, but I wanted to be sure to get the important things taken care of first," he smirked at her. He stood and took her briefcase and coat from her, placing them on her desk. Then he walked around to stand toe-to-toe with her. "Door open or closed?" he whispered.

‘Cocky bastard,’ Mac thought, even though his proximity and the anticipation of what was going to happen was making her heart race. "Open," she replied with more confidence than she felt. "If they don’t know why you’re here, they will soon enough."

Webb chuckled, then placed his hands behind his back. "Ready when you are."

Mac took a deep breath, then licked her lips. Webb’s eyes had locked onto her movement, and she did it a second time, slowing her tongue down to a crawl.

"You are a tease, Colonel," Webb ground out.

"I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed."

"No chance of that. You’ve already proven you can deliver."

Mac moved her head close, then touched her lips to his. "One."

She pressed against him again. "Two."

This time she moved her lips over his. "Three."

Now she lingered, reveling in the softness of his mouth. "Four."

For the final kiss, she rested her hands on his chest and leaned closer, allowing him to control the depth and intensity of the kiss. She was glad she did, for the kiss seemed to last forever, until coming up for air was a necessity. "Five," she whispered breathlessly.

Webb’s eyes were glassy, and had changed to a deeper shade of green. His lips were still moist from her kisses, and he now licked them, as if trying to capture her essence from them.

Mac realized she’d affected him, but she also knew he’d never admit it. She watched as he snapped himself out of his daze and slid the mask back into place.

"Well, I have to get to Langley. Thank you, Colonel. This was better than Denny’s."

"You kiss someone named Denny?" she asked, trying to look innocent.

Webb tossed a glare over his shoulder as he exited her office. "That’s not the kind of lip service I paid you for, MacKenzie."

Her laugh followed him all the way to the elevator.

*****

It didn’t take long for the rest of the JAG office to find out what was going on between the CIA’s best and their Chief of Staff. Webb showed up every weekday morning like clockwork, received his five kisses and departed again, looking much happier than when he arrived.

And soon, the staff became so used to it that no one seemed to take particular notice of it anymore. Everyone greeted Webb with knowing smiles when he arrived and wished him a good day when he left. Mac and Webb never shut the door to her office, but it was an unspoken matter of courtesy that when the two of them were in there together, they remained undisturbed.

There was also an unspoken agreement between the two of them that the rules of the kissing booth at the fair applied to their morning ritual as well. Webb never touched Mac, never got closer than toe-to-toe, and never invaded her mouth with his tongue. As time went on, he found it increasingly harder to abide by those unspoken rules, but abide by them he did. He knew that the payoff in the end would be better than any immediate gratification.

Fortunately, their friendship hadn’t suffered at the hands of the potentially awkward situation. After the first two days, Mac found herself relaxed and at ease with their unusual deal, and she took great delight in being able to banter and play with the usually reserved and stoic spy.

The biggest surprise, though, had been Webb himself. Their situation had brought out a playful side to him that Mac would never have dreamed existed. His inventive imagination had created scenarios for them to act out, and his lighthearted teasing had kept her from becoming embarrassed or overly concerned with what others thought. She could honestly say that she had never had so much fun kissing someone.

She could also honestly say that she was mighty glad her partner was nowhere around. She shuddered to think of what she’d have to endure with Harm standing over them, watching every move they made. Of course, she concluded logically, if Harm was around she wouldn’t have been in the kissing booth to begin with. She knew that once he returned from his TAD and found out what was going on, she’d have a hell of a time with him. For now, she enjoyed the freedom that flirting with and kissing Clayton Webb gave her.

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

April 10, 2003

0755 hours

Kisses #65 through #69 were on the docket when Mac arrived at her office Thursday morning, almost three weeks after the fair. She was surprised to find it empty, the desk chair in which the spy usually greeted her unoccupied. Puzzled, Mac put her things away and headed to the break room for a cup of coffee, figuring Webb was just running a little late. Taking her time fixing her coffee, Mac was disappointed to find her office still empty when she returned.

As the morning dragged on, Mac became more and more concerned. It wasn’t like Webb to stand her up. If there was a problem, he would have called her, if he could. Images of him trapped beneath the twisted metal of his car flashed in her mind, but she quickly veered away from that line of thinking. She felt her stomach clench at the thought of him injured, and she fervently hoped it was simple oversight.

Giving herself a shake, she mentally chastised herself. ‘Get a grip, Marine. You’re acting foolish. This is Webb we’re talking about. The man disappears for weeks at a time without a trace. And what right do you have to be so worried? You’re just friends, but you’re acting more like a love-sick girlfriend, staring at the phone, waiting for it to ring.’

Unfortunately, Mac wasn’t in the mood to listen to her little voice of reason.

By lunchtime, Mac was worried. The distracted Marine had managed to get some work done, but mostly she just went through the motions, too unsettled to concentrate on anything other than wondering where Webb was. As she sat at her desk, contemplating her options, there was a quiet knock on her door.

"Enter."

She should have known it would be Harriet. Mac wondered if the Lieutenant had taken it upon herself to come find out what was going on, or if she was the chosen representative of the staff. "Ma’am?"

"Come on in, Harriet," Mac sighed.

"Thank you, ma’am. I hope I’m not intruding."

Mac leaned back in her chair. "What do you need?"

"Well, I don’t really need anything, ma’am. I was just wondering..." Harriet paused, collected her courage and forged ahead. "Well, ma’am, Mr. Webb didn’t show up this morning and I wondered if everything was all right."

"I’ve been wondering the same thing," Mac admitted.

"You haven’t heard from him?"

Mac shook her head.

"Did you call his office?"

"No. I didn’t want to seem pushy."

"I don’t think that checking to make sure a friend is all right is pushy, ma’am."

Mac considered what Harriet said for a moment, then grabbed the phone and dialed his office number. A female voice with a heavy southern drawl answered.

"Clayton Webb’s office."

"Is Mr. Webb in?"

"I’m sorry. He’s unavailable. May I take a message?"

‘Unavailable’ didn’t answer her question. Going out on a limb, Mac asked, "Am I speaking with Diana?"

"Yes," the woman replied hesitantly.

"I’m Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. I’m a lawyer over at Navy JAG. Can you at least tell me if Clay’s in town?" She hoped that by using Webb’s first name and putting it on a personal level she might get a better response. She guessed right.

"Oh, Colonel, I’ve heard Mr. Webb mention your name. Yes, he is here, but he has been tied up all day and asked to not be disturbed."

"Oh, I see." The disappointment Mac felt was overwhelming, and it was apparently evident in her voice.

Diana must have realized that Mac’s inquiry was personal, not business. "I probably shouldn’t do this, but Mr. Webb did ask me to get him some lunch from somewhere..." She let her voice trail off, the suggestion hanging in the air.

Mac smiled triumphantly. "I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Thanks, Diana."

She next called the deli down the street, ordering soup and a sandwich to be picked up on her way to Langley.

*****

"He’s been in there all morning." Diana stood beside Mac, contemplating her boss through the office window. "He was in there when I got here. Between you, me and the fencepost," Diana lowered her voice, "I don’t think he went home last night."

Mac nodded her thanks, then walked over and knocked gently on his office door. Not waiting for a response, she opened the door and stuck her head in. Webb was so engrossed in what he was reading that he failed to hear her knock, enter, or shut the door behind her.

She used that moment to study the man before her. Out in the field on missions together, Mac had seen him dirty, tired, beaten, shot and stabbed. None of that compared to the defeated man behind the desk. His suit jacket, which he had discarded on the guest chair, was rumpled and wrinkled. His vest looked like it had been slept in, his shirt sleeves were rolled up, his hair was disheveled from running his hands through it too many times, he had heavy five o’clock shadow and there were papers scattered everywhere.

But what bothered her the most was the fatigue. She could see it in his posture, she could see it in his expression, and she could see it in his eyes. It was blatantly obvious in the fact that he wasn’t even aware of her presence.

Walking to stand by the desk, she dropped the white bag containing his lunch in front of him, making him jump. "Jesus, Sarah! What are you doing here?"

"Sorry, Clay. I didn’t mean to startle you." She reached out and pushed the lock of hair back off his forehead. "You had me worried." Feeling brazen, she continued to run her fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness and texture of it.

Webb’s eyes closed, the pleasurable sensations she was creating overwhelming him. Suddenly he reached up and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand down to lay on the desk. "Keep that up and you’ll have me asleep."

"That’s a bad thing? Looks like you could use it."

"No time right now. Too busy."

"Is that why you stood me up?"

Webb looked instantly contrite. "I’m so sorry, Sarah. We can forfeit 65 through 69 and consider it a paid vacation day."

Mac tugged on his hand, silently asking him to stand. Once he was upright, she dropped his hand, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a gentle embrace. Webb stiffened at the initial contact, but as she held him, he relaxed. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her even closer, burying his face in her neck and breathing in her scent. Her hand strayed back up into his hair, this time at his neck, and she once again took pleasure in feeling the silky strands slip through her fingers.

They clung to each other for a long time, until Webb finally pulled back and sighed, releasing his hold on her. Reaching down and grabbing his hands, Mac stopped his retreat. At his questioning look, she placed his hands on her waist, then wove her fingers through his hair a third time. Leaning close, her breath brushing his lips, she whispered, "Just this once."

She kissed him gently. "65."

She leaned back and met his eyes, seeking his approval. Though still rimmed with fatigue, they had brightened, and she took this as a sign to continue. She touched his lips with hers again, lingering this time. "66."

When their lips separated after #67, Webb’s groan could not be contained. Mac knew that in his weakened condition she was playing with fire, but she also found it impossible to stop. His groan only served to add fuel to her own fire, producing a thirst in her that she desperately wanted him to quench.

Their mouths met with more force this time, each finding it difficult to fight the growing need building between them. Time seemed to stand still as they nipped and sucked at each other’s lips, no longer even aware when #68 had technically ended. When Webb ran his tongue along her bottom lip, it was Mac’s turn to groan and pull away.

"One more," she whispered, trying to catch her breath.

"Make it count," he teased, his voice ragged with desire.

"Yes, sir," she countered before molding her body to his. She felt his arms slide up her back, holding her against him, and wove her fingers deeper into his hair, pulling his head down to meet hers. Their lips fused, and all conscious thought flew out the window. Not waiting for his overture, she pushed her tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his.

As their tongues mated and danced, Mac felt him shiver, and she reveled in the feeling of power she had over him. As his hands drifted down to clutch at her ass, pulling her even tighter against him, the warning bells began to go off in her head. Suddenly conscious of where they were, she knew they needed to stop, no matter how desperately she wanted to continue.

Breaking off the kiss, Mac buried her face in Webb’s neck, hands sliding down to rub his back. Webb began stroking her back as well, willing both of them to calm down. When she lifted her head and looked in his eyes, Webb said the first thing that came to mind.

"Holy shit."

Mac burst out laughing. "Feeling any perkier, Mr. Webb?"

"Damn, woman. I’ve been overworked and overstressed for years. If I’d have known you had this kind of cure..."

"Ah, but I don’t come cheap."

"A bargain at twice the price."

Mac had no witty comeback to that, her mind still in a fog from their kisses. Instead, she stood and basked in the warmth of their closeness. She knew the dynamic of their relationship had changed the minute she decided to seek him out instead of him coming to her. She had no idea how they were going to handle the rest of the ‘debt,’ or where their relationship would go once the debt was paid. For now, she was content to take it one day at a time.

Reluctantly, they finally released each other and Webb moved back to his desk. "What’s in the bag?"

"Lunch."

Webb flashed her a smile. "You brought me lunch?"

Mac shrugged. "Rumor had it you needed to eat. It’s just some broccoli soup and a turkey club."

"Rumor, huh? That rumor wouldn’t happen to be named Diana, would it?"

"She might have mentioned that you were displaying reclusive tendencies when I called."

Webb sighed and sat down, moving a few of the papers aside.

"I know you probably can’t answer this, but I’ll ask anyway. Is something big going down?"

Webb ran his hand over his face. "God, I hope not. I really hope it’s just bad intel." His voice sounded exhausted again. "I have a feeling it’s going to get worse before it gets better."

Mac nodded. "I know you can’t say more."

Webb shot her a grateful look.

"I’ll let you get back to work." Mac placed her hand on his shoulder, then leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Go home and get some rest sometime in the next 36 hours, okay? And if you need anything, call me."

"Yes, Mom," he teased.

"Smart ass," she mumbled, then left him to his work.

*****

As she passed Diana’s desk, Mac stopped and thanked the secretary for her assistance.

"You’re welcome, Colonel. And, I hope you don’t think me too forward, but I wanted to thank you, too."

"Me? For what?"

Diana hesitated. "I’ve worked for Mr. Webb for a lot of years. He’s always been the consummate professional in all his dealings, and he has rarely expressed any emotion around me, preferring to keep his personal life out of the office. Nonetheless, after so many years you get to know a person. I feel a certain fondness for him, and I worry about him. I’m so glad to finally see someone treat him with the tenderness and care he needs."

Mac stood stunned for a moment, her face flushed crimson. A dozen denials flashed through her mind, but she didn’t voice them. She knew the secretary had a clear view of everything that transpired in Webb’s office. To her surprise, she answered, "Clay deserves to be loved as much as anyone else. He just doesn’t realize it."

The two women shared a smile, then Mac asked, "Diana, could you do me a favor? If he doesn’t go home at a decent hour, would you call me? I want to be sure he sleeps."

"Of course, Colonel."

Clayton Webb’s Townhouse

Alexandria, VA

April 10, 2003

1730 hours

Diana never had to make that phone call to Mac. Webb had decided to go home on his own, after falling asleep at his desk twice more that afternoon. Realizing he was of no help to anyone in his condition, he had Diana call him a cab.

Now he leaned against his front door, too tired to even climb the stairs to bed. Yanking his tie loose, he decided to head for the kitchen to get a drink and then figure out if he was going to tackle the stairs or crash on the family room sofa. As he opened the refrigerator, Webb smiled, silently thanking his mother who had the foresight to restock his kitchen with food before he returned.

Webb grabbed a bottled water, then concluded that bed probably was the best place for him. Climbing the stairs was a slow and painful process, but once he reached the landing he began peeling off clothes as he walked. By the time he reached the bed, he was in his underwear, and he crawled between the sheets with a sigh. Making sure his alarm was set, he closed his eyes and drifted effortlessly into sleep.

It was the squeak of the floorboard outside his bedroom door, the one he kept meaning to fix, that alerted him to the fact that he wasn’t alone in the townhouse. Still groggy with interrupted sleep, Webb raised his head off the pillow and squinted in the now-fading light of dusk.

She was silhouetted in the bedroom door, the light from the hallway behind her shining like a halo around her. She was wearing his shirt, rescued from the hallway floor, and from the looks of things, nothing else. ‘Angelic,’ he thought at first, but then changed his mind as she walked into the room, her hips swaying gently under his Egyptian cotton oxford. ‘Seductress in more like it.’

She approached the bed and sat beside him on the edge, then reached out and stroked his hair back off his brow. "I was worried about you, Clay."

"I’m feeling much better now," he managed to say.

"That’s too bad. I was hoping you would need more of my cure," she whispered, her voice husky with desire.

"Well, a little preventative medicine never hurt anyone," Webb countered, as he pulled the covers back for her to climb in. She stood, and proceeded to unbutton and discard the shirt before joining him.

"How did you get in here?" he wondered as he placed feather-light kisses below her ear.

"Uhhnn…that’s classified," she groaned.

"And you called me James Bond."

"What can I say? I’m a quick study."

Webb pulled her into his embrace, his lips meeting hers. He felt her melt against him as his lips danced across hers.

Pulling back, she asked playfully, "What number is this?"

"Sweetheart, I have a feeling we’ll go way past one hundred tonight."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her lips to him. The kiss was just like the one they shared in the office earlier, only this time they had no reason to temper their passion. Allowing themselves the freedom they were denied earlier, they let their tongues explore. Their kisses were hungry and furious, and they both found themselves quickly aroused from just this contact alone.

"Clay, please," she begged, and, liking the way she said his name, he suddenly decided teasing was overrated. They had only begun to become lost in each other when the air was shattered by a loud ring. The ring continued, and Webb wondered to himself why neither of them moved to pick up the phone.

Suddenly, he sat up, rubbing his eyes. The sunset and its afterglow had faded now, the only light in the room coming from the clock radio. He reached out in the bed beside him and realized he was alone. He had always been alone. Somewhere between consciousness and sleep, Webb had found solace in fantasy.

The phone rang one more time, then stopped as the answering machine picked up. Flopping back down on the pillow, he debated getting up and cleaning himself off or just rolling over and going back to sleep. He decided on the latter, figuring that the night was still young and his imagination was still very active. He was sure Sarah MacKenzie would be visiting him again.

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

April 15, 2003

1145 hours

Mac sat at her desk, staring at the card in her hand. "Thanks. C.W.," was the simple sentiment. It had come attached to a vase of two dozen deep pink roses, delivered late in the afternoon after Mac had returned from her lunchtime visit to Webb. She had tried not to read anything into the gesture, instead forcing herself to admire Webb’s attention to detail. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who knew that deep pink symbolized gratitude.

The morning after her trip to Langley things were back to normal, or at least what was now considered normal for the two of them. Webb was waiting for her in her office when she arrived, looking much more well-rested than he had the previous day, and, after a brief awkward moment wherein they both smiled shyly and acted like teenagers at their first dance, she bestowed on him the five kisses due him. They were the chaste kisses of old, however, not the passionate ones shared in his office. They had not spoken of those kisses or that afternoon, but both knew that neither would forget.

As she stared out the window, clutching his card in her hand, Mac revisited that afternoon. She remembered the strength of Webb’s arms as they encircled her and held her close, the gentle firmness of his lips, the taste of him on her tongue.

The ringing phone jolted Mac back to reality. Irritated at the interruption, she snatched it up and barked, "Colonel MacKenzie."

"Hey, jarhead!"

Harm. She dropped her head into her hand and groaned softly. Of all people to interrupt her daydream involving hot sex with Webb…

"You there?"

"Yeah, I’m here. What’s up, Commander?"

"Hey, are you okay? You sound funny."

"I’m fine." Mac knew she had to suck it up and sound normal or risk the Rabb Interrogation. And she didn’t need him finding out that she was incredibly horny and having highly explicit, decadently erotic fantasies involving Clayton Webb. "How’s the TAD going?"

"No problems. Pretty routine actually. They’ve asked me to stay an extra week, though. The regular JAG had complications so they’ve extended his medical leave. The Admiral already approved it, so I won’t be in the office until next Wednesday."

Mac smiled to herself. That was perfect. Three more days and her debt would be paid to Webb, long before Harm returned. It would be easier to deal with after the fact rather than having him return while they were still meeting each morning. Mac played the mental movie: greeting Webb as usual, joking, smiling, then stepping up to him and kissing him, enjoying it until she heard the choked growl behind her. ‘Mac? What the hell is going on? Mac?’

"Mac?"

"What?"

"Are you busy? Should I call back?"

"No. Sorry, Harm. I’m just a little distracted."

"So I noticed. I asked, what have you been up to?"

‘Not much, just kissing Webb senseless and dreaming about making love to him until neither of us knows our own names.’

"Not much. The usual. Work, domestic chores, chick flicks and pizza." She paused. "You missed a good fair."

Harm sounded decidedly uncomfortable. "Yeah, well, that couldn’t be helped. Who did Harriet get to take over my booth?" he asked hesitantly.

‘He’s probably expecting me to tease him. Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint him.’

She replied, "Oh, Harriet couldn’t have picked a better person to take over your booth. As a matter of fact, the Kissing Booth brought in the most money and won the weekend at the bed and breakfast."

Mac looked up and noticed Harriet hovering in her doorway. She must have heard her name and mouthed, "Commander Rabb?" Mac nodded. As quietly as she could, she switched their conversation over to the speaker phone.

"Really? They were that good, huh?"

"Oh, yes! I’m actually surprised Harriet didn’t think of that officer first. Not that you weren’t a good choice as well, but somehow I think you would have been blown out of the water."

Harriet’s smile echoed hers, and she had to bite her knuckle to keep from laughing.

"Oh. Well, it was for a good cause, that’s what counts."

"True," Mac agreed. "There’s an interesting anecdote related to this. One person kept returning to the booth, and when it was all over, that person contributed an extra $100, just because he enjoyed himself so much."

It took a moment for what she said to register, and Mac could swear she heard the wheels turning over the phone line. "He? Does that mean my replacement was a woman?"

The Admiral had come to stand behind Harriet.

"Uh huh." Mac was trying so hard not to laugh, she couldn’t even speak.

"Come on, Mac, tell me. Who’s my competition? It couldn’t have been Harriet, and I know she wouldn’t have put Singer there. I’m not sure Jen would do it…"

He paused, the silence almost deafening.

"You?" he squeaked out.

"I’ve had a lot of fun paying off that $100 debt, too."

"You’re still seeing him?"

"Of course. I owed him 100 kisses."

"Anyone I know?"

"The Admiral’s here, Harm. I have to go. See you next Wednesday." With that, she hung up.

"Colonel, you do realize that he will torture himself for the next week, trying to figure out who you’ve been smooching. Either that, or he’ll call you constantly, trying to get you to confess. Or worse, he’ll call me. Damn." AJ scowled, then excused himself to return to his office.

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

April 17, 2003

0755 hours

"95."

Mac sighed her contentment and opened her eyes as she pulled back from Webb, privately thrilled that his eyes were still closed. "You with me, Spook?"

"Mmm hmm."

Raising her hands to his face, she playfully batted his cheeks back and forth between her palms. "Wakey-wakey!"

Webb reached up and grabbed her wrists to still her movements. Then he laced his fingers with hers and shoved both their hands in his pants pockets, keeping her close to his body. Her giggle was music to his ears.

"Are you going to behave or do I have to call the Admiral?" he scolded.

"Tattle tale."

"I am a trained intelligence professional. I use whatever means are at my disposal."

"Glad you said ‘intelligence’ instead of ‘intelligent,’" she teased.

"Real smart ass this morning, aren’t you, MacKenzie?"

"Somebody has to keep you on your toes. Don’t want you going soft and forcing your employer to deport you again."

"No chance of that, at least not according to my latest performance review."

"So, your ability to perform is not in question."

Webb froze, his gaze intensely boring into hers, then countered, "I think I scored high enough to satisfy."

"Who? The Russian judge?"

"Gave me a 9.5"

"I think they low-balled you."

"Glad to know you place so much confidence in me."

This suggestive exchange left Mac’s heart pounding and her stomach fluttering. His words alone, and the visual images they inspired, were making her almost instantly aroused. She had never responded to a man like she responded to Webb. Deciding that they were moving into very dangerous territory and that they needed to change the subject, Mac tugged on his pants pockets. "Interesting brand of torture you have here, Agent Webb."

He sounded slightly disappointed with the new topic. "This is nothing. The real torture comes later when I make you walk backwards across the Roosevelt Bridge."

"I’m a Marine. I can handle any challenge."

"Maybe I’ll take you down to the Farm and make you sit in on the class where they teach evasive techniques and answers like ‘It’s Classified,’ and ‘Need to Know’."

She grimaced. "Cruel and unusual punishment."

"So," Webb sobered and looked down at their feet. "Tomorrow’s the last day. Any special requests?"

"If I’m not mistaken, Mr. Webb, you were the one who paid me. Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?"

He locked eyes with her. "And if I’m not mistaken, you have had just as much fun with this as I have." Her slow smile confirmed his observation. "We should end it with a bang."

She wanted to scream, ‘Why do we have to end it?’ She wanted to tell how much this had meant to her. How much she looked forward to it every day. How easy it was to get up and get ready for work, knowing he would be waiting for her when she got here. That she desperately wanted to go back in time, back to last week in his office when she felt his passion, his passion for her, just barely held in check, waiting to be unleashed.

But she couldn’t.

He wanted to take the words back the minute he said them. He didn’t want it to end. For the first time since he was a child, he felt truly happy. He was happy in her arms, with his lips pressed to hers. Hell, he was happy just being in the same room with her. He had never been involved with a woman who didn’t think he worked for the State Department and he was finding the experience liberating. Not that they were involved in the traditional sense of the word. But what they had went beyond anything he had ever experienced before. He was by no means a sexual virgin, but he was beginning to believe he was an emotional one.

Spending time with Sarah MacKenzie over the last few weeks had strengthened the bonds of friendship they had formed while he was in Suriname. Though his work would always be important to him, he now found its prominence paled in comparison to spending time with and pleasing the one woman who had consistently invaded his dreams for years.

One part of him wanted to tell her how he felt. But the other part was terrified she would reject him. And then there was Rabb. Webb knew he would be returning from his TAD soon, and he was convinced the Commander’s presence would put an end to the easy relationship he shared with Mac.

‘I really suck at this,’ he thought. ‘But I can’t let her believe that this was only for charity. God, I hope I know what I’m doing.’

Taking a deep breath, Webb jumped in with both feet. "Of course, it doesn’t have to end…"

He was interrupted by the shrill ring of his cell phone. He felt Mac’s hands reflexively tighten on his, as if wanting to hold on just a moment longer. Looking reluctantly into Mac’s eyes, he released his grip on her hands and dug the phone out of his jacket pocket.

"Webb."

Mac walked over to her window while Webb conducted his conversation, trying to give him as much privacy as possible in the small office. After a series of short, one-word answers, he clicked the phone off. "I have to get to the office."

"Emergency?"

"In a manner of speaking."

Webb walked over to where Mac was standing, watching him. Her face reflected the early morning light filtering in the window, causing her to glow. He brushed her cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, then leaned in and rubbed her nose with his.

"Eskimo kiss?" she smiled.

Webb shrugged. "Doesn’t count." His fingers stroked her cheek again and his eyes roamed over her face as if memorizing her. Mac reached out and laid her hand on his chest. He leaned in as if to give her a real kiss, then caught himself and pulled back, running his thumb over her bottom lip instead. "I’ll see you tomorrow."

And then he was gone. Mac stood in her office, feeling very much alone and wondering just what she was going to do tomorrow when it was all over.

Sarah MacKenzie’s Apartment

Georgetown

April 18, 2003

0613 hours

Mac swiped the condensation off her bathroom mirror and stared at her reflection. More than anything, she just wanted to crawl back between the sheets and ignore the day. Thank God it was Friday. At least she would have the weekend to recuperate from saying goodbye to Webb.

Grabbing her toothbrush, Mac tried to convince herself that it was for the best. ‘He isn’t interested in you that way. You’re just friends.’ But she had a sneaking suspicion she was lying to herself. She vaguely wondered what he was going to say when he was interrupted by the phone call. ‘Of course, it doesn’t have to end,’ was what he said. Did he mean it doesn’t have to end…with a bang, as he had suggested it should earlier? Did he mean it doesn’t have to end at JAG? Maybe he was going to suggest going somewhere, like Denny’s. She smiled at that. Or maybe, he meant it didn’t have to end…period. Maybe he wanted it to continue as much as she did.

The weeks since the fair had gone way too quickly for Mac’s liking. In fact, she had come to the conclusion that she would be happy to spend every morning for the rest of her life kissing Clayton Webb. That revelation had startled her at first, and she had sat down and tried to reason with herself.

‘He has a difficult job, where he works long, crazy hours and sometimes is out of the country for weeks at a time. But so do I. He works for the CIA, employing questionable methods to fulfill a sometimes questionable objective. I forgive him for that, though. He does it for the good of the country, which he loves and would die for. Like me. I’m not his type. I haven’t seen him with anyone else, though.’

The self-chat backfired. In the end, she realized that she had no reason to pretend that she and Webb couldn’t make a go of a relationship, provided he wanted to. That was what she needed to find out. She perceived today to be her last chance to be close enough to Webb to feel him out, knowing that once their little game was over he would retreat behind the carefully constructed walls meant to keep anyone from getting too close. She ought to know – she had a set of those, too.

She was so lost in thought that she almost didn’t hear the phone ring. Hurriedly rinsing the toothpaste out of her mouth, she grabbed her robe and ran for the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey. It’s me."

"Clay?"

"Sorry to call so early."

"S’ok. I’ve been up. Already ran seven miles and took a shower."

"And it’s not even 7:00 a.m. You trying to keep up with the Army?"

"No, it’s the other way around."

"I’ve got some bad news. I’m being sent to the Middle East."

"Today?" Mac tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice, unsure how he would react if she appeared in any way possessive.

‘Something isn’t right about this,’ she thought. She wasn’t sure if it was one of her "psychic" moments or not, but something in the back of her mind was disturbed by this news, for more reason than just the obvious loss of numbers 96 through 100 and any chance for a serious relationship discussion today, but Webb was talking. She chose to ignore the nagging feeling for now.

"My flight leaves in…17 minutes." Webb paused, and Mac could hear the sounds of the airport filtering through the phone. "Listen, I’m going to be out of touch for a couple of days, three at least. I’ll call you when I can. Diana will have all the latest information, too."

Mac was touched that he would let her know that. "Thank you."

"Sarah, I’m sorry I have to leave today."

"I’m not." Mac tried to sound convincing.

"You’re not? You don’t mind missing our last tête-à-tête this morning? I thought you liked the way I kissed." She could hear just a hint of hurt underlying his question.

"Oh, I do, Mr. Webb, I do," she purred. "And our tête-à-tête is just being postponed. I still owe you five kisses. Gives you something to come back to." She couldn’t believe how forward she was being, but it came easier over the phone than in person. And Webb was doing nothing to discourage her.

"Sarah, when I get back…" He was interrupted by the boarding call over the loudspeaker. "Shit. I have to go. Sarah, when I get back, I will collect on those five kisses, and if I have my way, a whole lot more."

"More kisses or more…more?"

Webb’s voice had lowered almost to a growl. "You’ll find out when I get back."

"Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you, Spook?"

"Part of my charm."

"Be careful, Clay."

Mac sat staring at the phone and smiling. ‘He wants more!’ Hanging the phone up, she practically floated into the bedroom to finish getting dressed.

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

April 29, 2003

1340 hours

"Hey, Mac, got a minute?"

Mac looked up to find her partner standing in her doorway. Harmon Rabb had returned right on schedule and had spent the last six days tormenting her, trying to find out who it was that she was kissing. He was as relentless in pursuing this truth as he was any other investigation, but he had far less cooperative witnesses in this instance. The Admiral had given the entire office strict orders to mind their own business and not reveal anything before Mac was ready. If they did, it was his wrath they would face.

At first, his investigation had been amusing and she had fun watching him squirm under the pressure of his own imagination. But Mac quickly tired of Harm’s endless questions, his attempts to trip her up and get her to confess. Finally, this morning, she had sequestered herself in her office with strict orders not to be disturbed.

Now, lunchtime had come and gone, and apparently so had her reprieve.

She sighed, then motioned him in. "What do you need?"

Harm took a seat. "I wanted to get your opinion on this Allerman case. Something isn’t making sense, but I can’t put my finger on it."

"Sure, Harm." She laid her pen down and leaned back in her chair. "Tell me about it."

"Well, Chief Petty Officer Charles Allerman was arrested last night on manslaughter charges…"

Harm’s voice drifted into the background as Mac’s mind began to wander. It had been six days since she had heard from Webb, and though that in itself wasn’t unusual, for some reason something continued to bother her about his assignment. He had given her no indication that anything was amiss. The last time she spoke to him was the day that Harm returned from his TAD, and she enjoyed telling Webb about Harm’s investigation into whom she had been kissing. She had only a few minutes with Webb, but she made sure to tell him how much she missed him.

‘I do puckering exercises every morning, in lieu of you being here.’

Webb had chuckled. ‘Alone?’

‘Yes, alone!’ She had tried to sound indignant. ‘I stand in front of my bathroom mirror and do lip-ups.’

‘Trust me, Marine, you don’t need the practice,’ Webb managed to spit out around his laughter.

‘I want to be in tip-top shape for when you return.’

‘I’m looking forward to it.’

‘Anything else I should be practicing for?’ she had ventured.

There had been a long silence, then Webb’s strangled voice, ‘I have a few ideas.’

Suddenly there was shouting in the background. ‘I’m sorry, Sarah. I have to go. I miss you.’

‘I miss you, too, Clay. Very much!’ She had to bite her tongue to keep from blurting out that she had fallen in love with him. And then the phone went dead.

"Mac? Hey, jarhead!"

Mac snapped out of her private thoughts and looked at Harm apologetically. "I’m sorry, Harm. I guess I’m a little preoccupied today."

"Anything I can help with?" he asked softly.

Mac toyed with the idea of opening up and sharing everything with him, but then reconsidered. She had no basis for her feelings of apprehension with regards to Webb’s mission, and she was probably just suffering from a bad case of the lonelies.

She and Harm had never discussed their own relationship or lack of one; she had merely moved on without him. That fact, coupled with his usual overprotective attitude, led her to think twice about opening up. She didn’t think she could handle his jealous boyfriend routine right now, and she wasn’t sure he was ready to hear how badly she wanted the wayward spy to be home and in her arms.

She knew the day was coming when they would all be forced to deal with the implications of her budding romance with Webb, but she didn’t want it to be today. When she did finally let Harm know, she wanted Webb to be by her side. That in itself surprised her. Usually, she wanted to take care of matters, especially matters that involved Harm, on her own. But this time, she knew she would need to draw on Webb’s strength to get through it. Harm would not easily take to the two of them being involved.

"No, that’s okay. I’ll be fine."

Mac had just about convinced him of that when the Admiral knocked on her door. "Colonel, I need to see you for a minute, if I could. You might as well come, too, Commander." He led them to his office where Harriet, Bud and Sturgis had already gathered.

AJ had contemplated telling Mac the news first, alone, but then reconsidered. He knew that everyone at JAG was privy to what went on in his Chief of Staff’s office every weekday morning, and he also knew that the betting pool on when the Colonel and the CIA agent would get together for real was growing by leaps and bounds on a daily basis. All the personnel seemed supportive of the idea, and he figured it would be best for Mac to hear the news with her "family" around her.

Though Mac and Webb had not deviated from their original plan, AJ knew that things had changed between them. He could see it in their eyes when they looked at each other, he could hear it in their voices when they talked to and about each other. Though he and Webb disagreed more times than he could count, he knew Webb was a good man, one that actually stood a chance of making Mac happy. He was good for her, and if AJ had the opportunity to see into Webb’s personal life, he had a feeling that he would find she was good for him, too.

"People, I have just had a phone call from CIA Deputy Director Adams." AJ placed a hand on Mac’s shoulder "He broke protocol to call and inform me that Clayton Webb is missing."

Harriet gasped.

"Missing?" Harm asked, confused. "Missing from where?"

"He was on assignment in the Middle East…"

"Iran," Mac interjected tonelessly.

Harm turned to look at Mac. "You know where he is?"

Mac shrugged. "Not for sure. I was tutoring him in Farsi while he was in Suriname. He had a feeling they were prepping him to go there. When he called to tell me he was leaving for the Middle East, I just assumed it was Iran."

AJ continued, "Webb has missed two check-in times with Langley, and none of the other mission operatives in the immediate vicinity of his last known coordinates have had contact with him. It is assumed that his cover has been blown and he has either been arrested or is on the run."

"Then he’s still alive?" Bud wanted to know. He quickly looked at Mac, hoping he hadn’t upset her with the question.

"Yes, they have no indication otherwise. But remember, this is the CIA. They’re not going to be looking too hard for him."

AJ turned to Mac. "When was the last time you heard from him?"

"Wednesday afternoon. I remember telling him Harm was back."

"Did he say anything about where he was, what he was doing, anything that might be a clue?"

Mac thought for a moment then shook her head. "We couldn’t talk long, and the connection was pretty poor. We…made small talk." Mac wasn’t about to offer up the details of their conversation. Webb had hinted about a fantasy he had about her, one he had had the night before while trying to sleep on the floor of a deserted hut. Mac’s heart broke thinking of him alone in a strange and foreign land.

Mac tried to think of things that might help locate him. "He told me he had slept in a deserted hut two nights before. And I remember hearing a sound like an engine. Loud. A truck, maybe. And loud voices."

"Anything you recognized? Words, phrases?"

"No, Sir. It wasn’t English, but beyond that, I couldn’t tell."

AJ nodded.

"Why did the CIA call you?" Harm asked. He wanted to ask Mac why Webb was calling her from Iran, but kept silent. He could ask her that when they were alone.

AJ looked quickly at Mac, then at the Commander. "DD Adams knew that Webb had friends here at JAG. It was a personal decision on his part. He thought we would want to know."

"Highly unusual for the CIA," Harm observed with a touch of disdain in his voice.

"Like I said, Commander, Adams knows Webb maintains regular contact over here. He said he’ll keep me apprised of the situation."

"Sir," Mac asked, "Does anyone know if Clay had an escape route, or contacts to get him to the border?"

"Adams did not share that information with me, but he has assured me that he has people working on finding him." AJ looked at the crestfallen face of his Chief of Staff. "I’m sorry, Mac."

AJ then cleared his throat. "All right, that’s it. I’ll let you know the minute I find out any more news. Dismissed." He watched Mac turn and head back to her office, Harm hot on her heels. AJ said a silent prayer that, for once, the Commander would know when to keep his mouth shut.

AJ caught Harriet’s gaze as she turned to leave. He knew that the concern in her eyes was reflected in his. Concern for Mac and what she was going through. Concern for Webb, who was in trouble on a secret mission. And concern for both of them, knowing that they were on the verge of finally finding happiness with each other.

"He’ll be all right, Lieutenant. He has someone to come back to."

Harriet nodded, willing herself not to cry in front of her CO. She had known Clayton Webb for almost as long as Mac, yet it was only in the last few weeks, when he would stop by her desk on the way in and out in the morning to exchange pleasantries that she had gotten to know him. Even if things with him and Mac didn’t work out, she would always consider him part of the JAG family.

"Keep and eye on her office, Lieutenant. Let me know if there’s anything happening that warrants my attention."

"Aye, Sir."

*****

"Mac."

"Not now, Harm."

"What aren’t you telling me?’

"Nothing. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a phone call to make."

Harm didn’t leave. Instead he planted himself between her and her desk, lifting her chin with his fingertips. The pain in her eyes almost knocked him over.

"Mac?" he whispered.

Mac felt the hot tears coming, but was powerless to stop them. She avoided Harm’s gaze, instead choosing to stare at the wings on his chest.

"Mac, I want to help." She heard the sincerity in his voice and it was her undoing. Giving in to the urge to sob, she leaned her forehead against his chest and cried, her hands fisting his uniform jacket at the waist. Harm’s arms wrapped around her shoulders and he rested his chin on top her head. "It’s all right, Marine. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it." He continued to hold her and stroke her back until her tears were spent.

Lifting her head, she apologized, "I’m sorry, Harm. I usually have better control than this." She brushed at his jacket. "I got your uniform wet, too."

"It’s okay," he smiled at her. Then he gently wiped the remaining tears from her face with his thumbs. "You want to talk about it?"

Mac pulled away and moved over to the window, crossing her arms over her chest. "He’s not dead. I’d know," she whispered fiercely.

Harm’s brow wrinkled in confusion. "You would?"

She continued on as if she hadn’t heard him. "Something has been bothering me ever since he told me he was leaving, but I thought I was crazy." She turned to face him. "Earlier, when you were explaining the Alleman case and I zoned out on you, I was thinking about it again. How something wasn’t right. I knew then. But he’s not dead. I would know if he was dead," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Suddenly, it was like a light bulb switched on inside Harm’s head. "Mac, is Clay the one who you’ve been…did he…is it Clay?"

Mac nodded, then looked out the window, her voice forlorn and pleading, "He has to come back. I never got to tell him."

"Tell him what?" Harm asked, afraid of the answer.

Mac didn’t respond, so he moved to stand directly in front of her. He studied her face for a long moment before he observed, "You’re in love with him, aren’t you?"

Mac closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window. A lone tear escaped from underneath her lid, trailing down her cheek and disappearing under her chin.

Harm reached out and brushed her still-damp cheek with the back of his fingers, unknowingly mimicking one of the last touches Mac had shared with Webb.

"It will be all right, Mac." Harm’s voice was choked with unexpressed emotion as he tried to comfort her. "This is Clay we’re talking about. He won’t disappoint you. He always comes through in the end."

"He does, doesn’t he?" she whispered. "I’m scared, Harm. I can’t lose him. I just found him." She felt the tears ready to start again.

"Shh, jarhead." Harm pulled her into his embrace again. "Everything will be all right. Clay’s tough and resourceful. For all we know, he’s maintaining silence on purpose."

Harm pulled back, holding on to Mac’s shoulders so he could look her in the eye. "You know as well as I do that Clayton Webb never does things the easy way. Or the conventional way. If something seemed wrong to him, if he had some reason to distrust the Company, he’s not going to give them any information they can use against him or this country."

Mac nodded her agreement.

"Besides," Harm admonished her, "I know him. He knows you’re waiting for him, right? He’ll move heaven and earth to come back to you. He’s very stubborn." That got a small snort out of Mac.

"Now," Harm reached for a tissue from the box on her desk, "how about you get yourself put together, and I’ll go grab you some lunch?"

Mac smiled up at him. "Thanks, Harm." His tenderness and understanding were unexpected but also exactly what she needed.

She had no idea what was going through his head right now, but she was glad everything with Webb was out in the open. She was also grateful he hadn’t tried to talk her out of it or tell her she was making a mistake.

I’ll be right back." Harm bent down and kissed her cheek, then left her alone with her thoughts.

Outskirts of Ali-Sadr Caves

100 km. north of Hamadan, Iran

April 29, 2003

1523 hours

While the JAG staff was going about their daily business and trying to regroup after hearing about Webb’s disappearance, Webb was trying to get a few hours of sleep before he had to move again. He had been traveling at night as best he could, staying close to roads that he knew led to the border. He slept when he could, mostly when the sun was high in the sky and the towns and villages were the busiest.

The last village had been about 15 miles back, and he hadn’t encountered another soul since leaving it behind. Given this, he had continued on for far longer than was wise, until his legs were exhausted and he decided he’d best not push his luck.

Now, Webb was camped out in a small cave a quarter of a mile from the main road. He had been traveling for three days and he knew, at the rate he was going, it would take another three to reach the Turkish border. He had enough food and supplies for four days, at the most. Then he would be forced to get closer to a village, where he could barter for or, even better, steal food. Stealing, though considered a major crime in Iran, did not force him to use his less-than-fluent Farsi.

Webb shifted, trying to "fluff" his backpack into a more comfortable makeshift pillow. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a bandana and covered his face in an attempt to create the illusion of darkness. After a moment, though, he removed it in disgust. The bandana had put him at a disadvantage – with his face covered his other senses went on alert. He’d never get to sleep that way.

Of course, it didn’t help that it was HER bandana, pilfered from her things when they were together in Afghanistan. He had kept it in his pocket the entire time they were in country, and he would pull it out and sleep with it close to his head on the pillow, releasing her scent to dance and weave around him, coaxing him into a restful slumber full of images of her.

By the time he had returned to Washington from Afghanistan, her scent had diminished to just a trace on the fabric, and he spent the better part of a Sunday afternoon searching the perfume counter at Saks, trying to figure out what she wore. Webb and the perfume girl had been victorious and he returned home that day with a small bottle of Allure, which he promptly used to spray the bandana, then tucked in his underwear drawer for safe keeping.

Webb chuckled to himself. ‘Sentimental bastard.’ Who would ever believe that the world’s biggest pain-in-the-ass operative kept that bandana with him at all times. If he wanted to feel close to her, all he had to do was put his hand in his pants pocket.

He rolled onto his other side, his back to the cave entrance. That was a mistake as well, for every little sound outside the cave was magnified tenfold now that he had turned his back.

Sighing in exasperation, both with himself and the situation, Webb flipped over onto his back. He was never going to get any sleep, and he couldn’t afford to allow himself to become too fatigued. He was in a no-win situation. He couldn’t let his guard down enough to get a few decent hours of sleep, but if he didn’t sleep he ran the risk of getting sloppy. Getting sloppy led to getting caught. Getting caught led to getting shot. And getting shot was not conducive to a long, healthy life.

What he wouldn’t give to be home, in his own bed, safe and comfortable. The rocky cave floor was a less than ideal mattress, and he was beginning to feel his muscles ache and his joints stiffen as he tossed and turned in discomfort. He needed a distraction, something to occupy his mind while his body settled down enough to allow sleep to come. Clutching the bandana close to his nose he inhaled, then closed his eyes.

*********

Webb’s eyes snapped open. He stared out of the cave opening into the deepening twilight, realizing that he had slept the afternoon away. Fortunately, his erotic dream had not resulted in his needing to change clothes. Unfortunately, his erection was still demanding attention, but he had to ignore it for now as the flash of light caught his eye again.

He judged the distance to the flash to be about two to three miles as he painfully stood upright. Did he move toward the flash or away? It was between the cave and the border, so if he was going to avoid it, he would have to take a circuitous route that could possibly add another day to his journey.

Instinct told him to head toward the light. He only hesitated a moment, then bent and grabbed his backpack, his need to satisfy his arousal replaced with the need to survive.

Sarah MacKenzie’s Apartment

Georgetown

May 1, 2003

2335 hours

"I’m sorry to bother you so late, Colonel, but I thought you would want to know."

"Not a problem, Diana." Mac slipped her robe on to ward off the late night chill and walked into her living room. She had considered calling Webb’s secretary after the Admiral had told them of his disappearance, but she had ended up crying in Harm’s arms instead. She also had a feeling that if there had been any important news, Diana would have gotten in touch with her. Apparently, she had been right on that score. The ringing phone had gotten her out of bed only moments after she had crawled in.

Mac grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and flopped on the sofa, her stomach tied in knots and her heart pounding with anticipation at what news the secretary might have.

"There was a message on my answering machine when I got home this evening. Mrs. Webb received a call from Lieutenant Abby Cohen." Diana paused, waiting to see if Mac knew whom she was referring to.

"Go on."

"The message said that Abby was fine and had decided to take a mini vacation so she would be out of touch for awhile."

"So he’s alive," Mac breathed a sigh of relief. "And obviously able to communicate."

"That’s not all. The message also said to tell Cousin Sarah that she misses her and can’t wait to see her."

The lump in Mac’s throat felt like it was the size of a basketball, and she had difficulty talking around it. "Thank you, Diana. Thank you so much."

"You’re welcome, Colonel. Good night."

Mac slowly walked back into the bedroom, the phone clutched to her chest. Dropping her robe on the foot of the bed, she crawl in and tunneled under the covers, pleased to know that at least Webb was alive and well. ‘A mini-vacation?’ Definitely a change of plans.

She missed him so badly that her chest hurt to think about it. She missed his smile. She missed his eyes, so intense and expressive. She missed his smell; clean, spicy and something uniquely Webb. She missed how he made her feel special when he looked at her, like she was the only one in the room. She missed the way she was acutely aware of his presence, almost instinctively knowing when he was close by.

And she missed his touch. She loved his hands, with his long fingers and soft skin. But the soft hands were by no means indicative of the job he held. He was no desk jockey. She knew those hands were also very strong, and she had no doubt they were skilled in many things, from snapping a man’s neck in two to giving a woman a screaming orgasm.

That last thought prompted her to realize that she really knew very little about the spy. Had he ever killed anyone with his bare hands? Somehow she knew that he wouldn’t have survived and come as far as he had if he wasn’t just a little ruthless. But instead of the idea repulsing her, she found herself unbelievably attracted to the man and the mystery surrounding him.

She sensed a quiet power pulsating just under the surface of his personality; a power that did not take anything away from her. Rather, when with him, she felt even more feminine. She now viewed him as more than just a CIA agent. He was one hundred percent male, strong and sure. And she wanted nothing more than to be laying in his arms right now.

Her mind drifted to the other uses for his hands, namely the screaming orgasm. She wondered how many women he had made love to in the line of duty. ‘No,’ she corrected, ‘not made love to. Had sex with.’ She had no doubt that if Webb was caught in an intimate position in the field, it would not be love he was making. His body, and the mutual pleasure it produced, would be serving his country, just like any other soldier, sailor or civil servant.

Mac rolled over onto her side and hugged the extra pillow to her, pretending for a moment that it was Webb. She hadn’t slept well since he left, and though the phone call from Diana did much to relieve some of her anxiety, she knew she probably wouldn’t sleep well until Webb was home and safe.

Mac clutched the pillow even tighter, thinking of what all she would tell the man if it were him here with her instead of a bunch of feathers stuffed inside a pillowcase. She would tell him how much fun she had paying off the debt, and what a wonderful kisser he was. She would tell him that she wanted to get to know him better, and she wanted to share her personal life with him. She would tell him that she wanted to spend time with him away from work. No JAG, no CIA, no terrorists, no Rabb. She would tell him that she wanted to cook him dinner. Contrary to popular opinion, she could cook and enjoyed it.

And maybe she would tell him that she loved him.

Would he reject her? She didn’t think so. She knew he wanted someone in his life as much as she did. He had all but confessed as much to her one morning over kisses 30-34. He was lonely, but unwilling to trust the women who seemed to gravitate to his side, motivated to tolerate his company mostly by the size of his bank account. Mac couldn’t care less how much money he had and he knew it. He could be himself with her, and she didn’t require financial disclosure before laughing at one of his jokes.

She also knew he was generous- the bouquet of roses he sent her was proof of that. She knew that whatever woman finally captured Clay Webb’s heart would be cherished. Her own heart fluttered at the thought. She would give anything to have it be her. For the first time in a long time, she gave serious thought to marriage and children. Something told her Webb would be a terrific father, loving and nurturing, yet firm.

Mac smiled to herself and wondered what it would be like to be married to Clayton Webb, sharing his bed, being part of his family. She pictured herself pregnant with his child, imagined him sitting up at night to rock them, or read to them, or stroke their fevered brow. She imagined making his coffee, picking up his dry cleaning, and snuggling up to him every night.

And the things they could do every night, any night, when he was in town. Oh, the many ways she could surprise him! Mac closed her eyes, a smile on her face...

*********

Mac hit the floor with a thud, her legs tangled up in the sheet. Her eyes flew open and she realized that she wasn’t in the throes of passion with Webb, but in the throes of disaster with her bedding. She slammed her fist onto the floor in exasperation. ‘Damn! It was a good dream, too.’

Knowing she would probably not get back to sleep anytime soon, Mac untangled herself and stood up, then wrapped herself in her comforter and headed to the kitchen for a cup of tea.

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

May 8, 2003

1030 hours

"Here’s the reports you wanted, Sir."

"Thank you, Colonel." AJ took his glasses off and laid them on his desk, then leaned back in his chair and sized up his Chief of Staff. "Have a seat for a moment."

"Yes, Sir."

"How have you been, Mac?"

Mac was going to answer with her usual ‘fine’ but she could tell by the look in AJ’s eyes that he wouldn’t believe that.

And the truth was, she hadn’t been fine. It had been a week since Diana had called with the news that Webb was alive. Though she took comfort in that, there was still no word of his whereabouts. She had told AJ about the late night phone call from the secretary, being careful not to reveal the use of Webb’s alter ego. AJ had received reassurances from Deputy Director Adams that an extraction team would be mobilized once they knew Webb’s location but he hadn’t turned up yet.

The nights were the worst. During the day, she could keep herself busy with work and errands. But at night, alone in her apartment, her imagination took over. Though they had never shared a bed, she found herself missing him the most when she crawled between the covers. She would imagine him laying beside her, holding her close, giving her Eskimo kisses. A very un-Webb-like gesture, but one that she had clung to, finding it endearing.

Realizing she hadn’t answered AJ, she smiled and went for honesty. "The nights are long, Sir."

AJ struggled to control his facial expression, astonished that the pair had become that close, chagrined that he hadn’t caught it, and floored that she was sharing the information with him.

"I guess I have a pretty active imagination."

AJ smiled. "It always gets larger and more uncontrollable when someone we care about is in a difficult situation." He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk, ready to ask her another question when the intercom buzzed. "Yes, Tiner.’

"Sorry to interrupt, Sir, but Deputy Director Adams is on the phone."

"Thank you, Tiner."

Mac moved to stand but AJ motioned her to remain seated as he took the call. She stared at her hands as she nervously twisted them in her lap. Mac was trying not to eavesdrop, but it wouldn’t have mattered – AJ’s end of the conversation didn’t yield much information.

When the call ended, AJ leaned back in his chair again. "That was Deputy Director Adams," he announced needlessly.

Mac’s eyes brightened and she moved forward to perch on the edge of the chair. "And?" she prompted.

"They have him. Pulled him out yesterday afternoon."

Mac felt the tears pooling in her eyes, but this time she had no trouble controlling them.

"Thank God. How is he?"

"Dehydrated, but uninjured, amazingly enough. He was being debriefed somewhere over the Atlantic when Adams called. It’s my guess that it won’t be long until you see him again."

Mac sighed with relief. "Thank you, Sir."

AJ paused, wondering if he should ask the burning question that he was dying to ask. Deciding he had nothing to lose, he forged ahead. "Mac, I realize that you and Webb have a unique arrangement, one that could lend itself to…"

"Sir," Mac cut him off. "Are you trying to find out if Clay and I are involved, beyond the kissing booth arrangement?"

AJ had the decency to look chagrined. "Well, Colonel…"

Mac stood. "May I speak freely, Sir?"

AJ nodded.

"Clay and I do have a unique arrangement, as you so delicately put it. May I point out that it is one that you and Lieutenant Sims put us in? So, given the fact that we start each morning in a lip lock, it is only natural to assume that our relationship will change and grow. I think you already know that I care about him deeply."

AJ nodded again.

"And I think he feels the same way. Being with Clay is different than any other relationship I’ve ever had. If you’re asking, have I slept with him, the answer is not yet, but I plan on it. Sir."

Mac came to attention, and AJ managed to gather enough wits to dismiss her. Turning around at the door, she commented, "By the way, Sir, you and Harriet should consider nominating yourselves for the Yenta of the Year award. I think you’d be a shoe-in."

*****

For the first time in weeks, Mac had gone out for lunch and enjoyed herself. A great weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and she smiled and joked with Harriet, teasing her about her matchmaking. Harriet had defended herself by revealing that it was the Admiral who gave Webb the idea to seduce Mac. But Mac didn’t care. Her spy was coming home and the whys and the hows of their relationship were unimportant in light of that.

Returning from lunch, Mac found Bud and Harm arguing outside the Admiral’s office. She gathered from the gist of the conversation that Bud had thoroughly trounced Harm’s ass in court, leaving the Commander angry and out of sorts. He was trying to convince the junior officer of his error in judgment, but Bud was having none of it, practically calling Harm a sore loser.

AJ had come out of his office to eavesdrop on the argument. It wasn’t really necessary, though, as their raised voices could be heard halfway across the bullpen. Mac walked over to stand beside her CO, amused that he wasn’t stopping the loud exchange. "Did I miss anything good?" she whispered to him.

"Nah. Rabb can’t seem to understand that he taught the Lieutenant too well."

Mac chuckled. "Harm doesn’t like losing to anyone, but the fact that Bud is a junior officer and his protégé really irritates him. No one gets under Harm’s skin like Bud."

Mac was so engrossed in listening to the two men argue that she failed to notice Harriet at her elbow until the Lieutenant spoke. "Ma’am, you have a phone call." Mac nodded her thanks, but didn’t appear to be in any hurry to take the call, so Harriet added, "He said he brought you an authentic Persian rug."

It only took a few seconds for Harriet’s comment to register. "Clay!" Mac ran for her phone in her office, oblivious of the stares she was receiving from the rest of the staff.

"Clay?"

"Hey, beautiful."

"Where are you?"

"Right now I’m on my way from National to Langley."

"Debriefing?"

"’Fraid so." Webb paused. "It’s good to hear your voice, Sarah."

"It’s good to hear yours, too, Clay. I’ve missed you."

Webb’s voice softened. "I missed you, too. Adams said he kept you guys posted. I hope you weren’t too worried."

Mac decided that Webb didn’t need to know how worried she had been. "I managed. So, when can I see you?"

Webb sighed. "I’ll probably be debriefing all night, and I’m really beat. I didn’t get much asleep on the plane. How about tomorrow night?"

Mac was about to eagerly agree when she remembered her prize from the fair. Feeling bold, she asked, "What are you doing this weekend?"

"Not a thing. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I still have that Bed and Breakfast weekend in North Carolina to use…"

She could hear the smile in Webb’s voice. "You want me to go with you?"

"Yes. If you want to."

There was silence for a moment, and Mac wondered if perhaps she had misread the signals he was sending. But she realized she was on target when he responded, "Okay. How about you take a cab to work tomorrow and I’ll pick you up. Bring jeans and boots to change into. Do you have a leather jacket?"

"No," she answered, puzzled.

"That’s all right. I have an extra. Oh, pack light. I’d like to take you out for a nice dinner, but bring something wrinkle-proof. The saddlebags are hell on crushable fabrics."

"Saddlebags?" Mac’s stomach did a flop as she understood what Webb was planning. The mental image of the enigmatic spy astride a motorcycle was enough to make her knees weak and she sat down with a plop.

"Look, we’re pulling in to Langley, so I have to go. I’ll pick you up at 3:30, if that’s all right. I can’t wait to see you."

"Same here. I’m glad you’re home." Again, it was all she could do not to tell him she loved him. But instead, she hung up the phone, vowing to herself that she would tell him this weekend.

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

May 9, 2003

1330 hours

Mac had spent most of the day quietly flustered, the anticipation just about her undoing. Several times she caught herself staring off into space, daydreaming of her reunion with Webb. Harm had actually teased her the last time, threatening to call Webb and have him come get her early so the rest of the office could get some work done.

At 3:30 on the dot, Mac saw a shadow cross her desk. Looking up, she stared into familiar hazel eyes and smiled. He was leaning against her office door frame, hands shoved in the pockets of his tight black jeans, wearing black biker boots and his leather jacket. He had a second jacket over his arm.

But what surprised her, what actually took her breath away, was the goatee. She had rarely seen Clayton Webb anything but clean shaven. She realized that, given his experience over the last few weeks, with him not looking like a native Iranian, he would have had to try to blend in. But she would have thought he’d have shaved it off immediately once he got on the plane.

Gawking at him, she thought it gave him a dangerous air, and added to the dark mystery that surrounded the man. Whatever his experiences in the Middle East, they had done nothing to lessen the confidence he exuded every time she saw him. If anything, he was even more self-assured than when he left. And he had a cockiness about him that was pure Webb.

Mac walked up to stand toe-to-toe with him in the doorway.

"I believe we have some unfinished business, Colonel."

"I believe you’re right, Mr. Webb." She reached up and quickly brushed his lips with hers. "96."

Again. "97."

Quick peck. "98."

Even faster. "99."

She knew what he wanted, but she refused to give in. When she kissed him for real, it would not be under the guise of a debt to be paid. She quickly gave him another hard kiss. "100. Paid in full."

His eyes registered his disappointment at the quick kisses, but that was his only concession. "A pleasure doing business with you, MacKenzie."

"Likewise, Webb."

They stared at each other for a moment, both wondering who was going to make the first move. Webb gave in to temptation first. Whispering, "Oh, hell…" he pulled his hands out of his pockets, then reached out and grabbed her by the hips, pulling her tight against him. His head bent down and he captured her lips with his in a searing, hungry kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she kissed him back, pouring all of her feelings for him and fear for his safety into it.

When they parted, he said in a ragged voice, "God, I’ve been wanting to do that again since the day you brought me lunch."

"I know. Me, too." They rested their foreheads together, catching their breath. "Let’s get out of here. I want you all to myself."

Webb smiled, then bent over to retrieve the jacket that had fallen to the floor when he grabbed her. Mac had already changed into the jeans and boots as Webb had requested, so all she needed was the jacket to complete the outfit.

After he helped her on with the jacket, which was obviously his because she could smell his cologne on it, she slung her overnight bag over her shoulder, grabbed some files and headed for the door. Dropping the files on Harriet’s desk, she turned and smiled at Webb.

They were interrupted by AJ and Harm, who both chose that moment to walk over and shake the spy’s hand, welcoming him home. After all the pleasantries were exchanged, Webb smiled at Mac and took her hand. "Ready to ride?"

She nodded, then wished everyone a good weekend. As the elevator doors closed, they heard her say, "Clay, I have to warn you, it’s been years since I sat on the back of a bike."

AJ, Harm and Harriet all looked at each other, then collectively turned and herded toward the windows in AJ’s office. As they watched the CIA agent mount the Harley, and their Chief of Staff climb on behind him, they shook their heads in wonder. As Webb started the bike and rode away, Harriet commented, "He is the last person I would have pictured on a motorcycle."

Harm responded, "I’m not surprised. Probably had to learn how to ride for an op and didn’t give it up."

AJ’s only addition to the conversation was, "I wonder if Porter knows he has that thing?"

Linden’s Landing B&B

Kitty Hawk, North Carolina

May 9, 2003

2000 hours

They had made excellent time from Falls Church to Kitty Hawk, stopping only once along the way. Mac had been comfortable on the bike the minute she climbed on behind Webb. She could tell right away that he was an experienced rider, and she was able to move easily with him, which allowed her to thoroughly enjoy the ride.

Mac had also thrilled to feel him move with the motorcycle between her thighs. She squeezed him with her legs periodically, and their relative position, coupled with weeks of virtual foreplay, left her sexually on edge and anxious for them to arrive at their destination.

Webb felt the sexual tension as well, but tried to ignore it as he concentrated on the road instead. At one point, near the Virginia/North Carolina border, Mac leaned forward into him, and placed her hands on his thighs. She stroked up and down his legs, and it was all he could do to keep from pulling off the side of the road and taking her in some grassy field along the way. But restraint was something he was good at and he was not going to succumb to the toying of a certain Marine intent on distracting him.

He had given back as good as he got, leaning back into her and reaching around with one hand to slide it up her thigh and back around her hip to the curve of her ass. He had given her a gentle squeeze to let her know he was on to her game.

The ride had been beautiful, the evening pleasant, and as they pulled into the bed and breakfast Mac was almost sorry to see it end. But, knowing what was awaiting them inside, she soon forgot her disappointment and dismounted to study their surroundings..

The bed and breakfast was in a huge old farmhouse situated right on the shore of Albemarle Sound, in a quiet unassuming corner of the village. Commercialization and quarter million dollar vacation homes had not reached here as they had other parts of the Outer Banks, and both Mac and Webb were pleased with the solitude and peaceful atmosphere. The splash of the water lapping at the shoreline and the squawks of gulls overhead were the only sounds to disturb the otherwise peaceful evening.

The house stood on a small rise overlooking the beach, and Mac wandered down the steps towards the sand while Webb emptied the saddlebags of their belongings. She didn’t wander far, as dusk was deepening, and Webb’s questioning call to her brought her back to his side. She vowed to explore this unexpected paradise further in the daylight.

They walked up the steps of the bed & breakfast and were greeted by Fannie, the owner, a woman that Mac placed in her early 50’s, with salt and pepper hair drawn into a tight bun and laughing jet black eyes. Mac swore there was gypsy in Fannie, though Fannie professed to be descended from the original settlers of the area. She had a faint accent that Mac could not place, she smelled of fried chicken and she wore a faded chenille robe pulled tightly around her broad frame.

Mac and Webb both took an instant liking to her. Fannie clucked and cooed over them, and told them jokes and amusing anecdotes about the locals as she showed them to their room. She reminded them that breakfast was served at 7:30, then winked and bid them good night.

The room was huge, decorated in early period pieces, with modern conveniences like a television and cd player hidden inside an antique armoire. The fabrics were soft and delicate, but not overly feminine, and Webb would be comfortable here. They had their own bathroom with a shower, and French doors that opened to a small balcony overlooking the Sound. Mac was enchanted.

Mac dropped her bag inside the door and turned to Webb as he shut and locked it behind them. He looked past her, over her shoulder, at the huge king-sized bed against the wall. Thinking that perhaps he had assumed too much, he hastened to apologize.

"Mac, I don’t want to push…"

His words were cut off by her fingers gently laid on his lips. She looked up into his worried face and pleaded, "Clay, you’ve been a perfect gentleman through this whole Kissing Booth situation. And I appreciate it. Really, I do. But, I don’t want you to be a gentleman anymore."

Webb drew in a sharp breath, his groin already stirring at her words. "Are you sure, Sarah? Be careful what you ask for."

"I know exactly what I’m asking for." Mac drew a deep breath and decided that she needed to take the risk she had been contemplating for weeks. "I’m asking the man I’ve fallen in love with to make love to me."

Webb closed his eyes as her words registered, then opened them again quickly. "Sarah, you have to know that if we do this, there is no going back. I have wanted this, wanted you, for a very long time, and I can’t spend the weekend with you, making love to you, then get up Monday morning and pretend it never happened. So, unless you are prepared to have all of me, and all that entails, I suggest we call Fannie and have her bring us a cot."

Mac grabbed him by the jacket, reminiscent of their first kiss at the fair, and pulled him close. "Didn’t you hear what I said, Spook? I said I love you. I don’t just love you today. I don’t just love you for what will happen this weekend. And I don’t just love you when you’re in town."

Mac released her hold on his jacket and turned, walking slowly toward the French doors. "I can’t tell you exactly when I fell in love with you, but after that day in your office, I knew I wouldn’t be able to live without you in my life. You were all I thought about."

She reached her hand out and pushed the curtain aside to gaze out on the Sound. "When you were out of contact in Iran, I was nuts." Her voice had dropped to a whisper. "It was all I could do to keep from flying over there and trying to find you myself. If I would have had any idea where to look, I might just have done that."

Mac spun around towards Webb, then moved back across the room to stand in front of him. "I don’t love you because it’s convenient. It’s anything but. I don’t love you because you’ve wined and dined me. You haven’t. I don’t love you because you paid me to. That deal is complete." She winked, then reached her hand out and placed it on his chest over his heart.

"I love you, all of you, because of who you are. You, Clayton, are the most honorable, most charming, most trustworthy, most giving, most exasperating man I know. Don’t ever change."

Webb was stunned at her confession, and he was fighting to recover, to say something, as she removed her hand and began pacing.

Mac continued, "And it’s all or nothing for me, too. I don’t do casual sex, and I don’t want that with you. I want to be a part of your life, if you’ll let me. I want to go to sleep and wake up in your arms. I want to argue about what tv show to watch, and who gets to shower first, and who does the dishes after dinner. I want to make you coffee in the morning, and cake for your birthday." She moved back to stand in front of him and looked at him, her eyes locked with his.

Webb stood frozen, trying to take in everything she had confessed in her speech. He found that his normal IQ seemed to have dropped by at least 100 points with the realization that she was serious and she was offering him everything he had ever wanted.

"Sarah," he groaned, "my job…"

"Is as demanding and difficult as mine is," she countered in exasperation. "We can both be called away at a moment’s notice and we can both find ourselves in dangerous situations. I don’t take this commitment I’m willing to make lightly, Clay. I’m willing to put up with your job and all it entails if you’re willing to put up with mine and all it entails. That includes Harm."

"I can put up with anything you, or he, can dish out, MacKenzie." Webb placed his hands on her hips. "You really willing to take a chance on a relationship with me?"

"Yes, Clay," she whispered. "I love you. I want to be with you."

"I love you, too, Sarah, so much so that sometimes I can’t breathe with the weight of it." He drew her into a gentle embrace, and the two of them stayed that way for a long time, just clinging to each other. Finally, Webb raised his head and stepped back a step.

"You want to make me coffee in the morning, huh? Are you saying you’d be willing to move in with me?" he asked hesitantly.

"Are you asking?" she countered playfully.

"Maybe. Or, are you saying you’d consider marrying me?"

This time it was Mac’s turn to freeze, but only for a second. "I thought we started this conversation with ‘I don’t want to push’?"

Webb was instantly apologetic. "I’m sorry, Sarah. You’re right…"

She pulled back and looked at him. "You really want to drink my coffee every morning?"

"I’ve done worse in the name of national security."

The resulting slap echoed through the room.

7/23/03