Fight
by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)
JAG
Clayton Webb/Clark Palmer
Rating: adult
Clay and Clark fight and yes, make up, thank whatever gods there are to look after gorgeous spooks.
Eclipse Snapshot #33.
Disclaimer: The characters herein portrayed are not mine. I make no profit from this story and claim no rights to the characters. Also, I mean no harm with it.
Please do not archive this story without asking me first. It's more than likely that I'll agree, but I want to know where my stories are.
Warnings: I could warn about Clark Palmer being more than a mere sociopath, but what good would that do? Either you've read the Eclipse stories and buy my portrayal of Mr. Palmer or you don't.
For Mandy, who gave me the idea, and for what would have been Alexandra's 28th birthday (3/7/04) if she were still alive, which she's not.
And for Karen on her birthday (3/20/04), for StarR2night with hopes that this will help to take the pain away, and for Thamiris as an early birthday present (3/27/04) although I hope to have a new one for you, my dear.
Many thanks to Tinnean for the beta and all the support.
*****
The door slams hard enough to make me blink. Yes, that's Clark standing in front of my desk, looking as though he'd like to put a fist through my face or even a bullet through my heart. It took me a minute to be sure. I haven't seen him that angry since - I don't think I've ever seen Clark angry.
"Have you lost your fucking mind?"
Not that I know of. "If there's something you'd like to discuss with me, I'll be happy to listen."
"Yeah, I'd like to discuss this with you." He spits out the words. "You didn't think I'd find out? I'm not stupid, Webb. I may be working for the fucking CIA, but I'm not stupid."
I remind myself that this is my office as I stand. I'm not going to let Clark Palmer loom over me. He's upset, and that needs to be dealt with, but he has to give me the respect I've earned. "If you'd tell me what you've found out, I'd appreciate it." I'm trying to think of what he could be so angry about, but not getting anywhere.
He's smiling now, but I don't like the smile any more than the glare. I know that smile. I saw it on the Kamiko Maru right before he told me that I did good work and raised the gun to shoot me.
"Sure thing, Mr. Webb." He bites off my name and I'm not going to tell him that he's using improper address when he's got that intensity in his eyes. "I found out you've been running around trying to get those assholes who run this stupid shit agency to let me back in the field." He slams his fist down on the desk. "Are you trying to get fired?"
So he found out about that. I didn't think he'd be pissed - I thought he'd be happy. But maybe he didn't get the whole story. "I'm trying to get you what you want."
"By destroying yourself? You think I want that?"
"You want to be back in the field. And I'm not destroying myself."
"Bullshit." His lips tighten. "This place is full of assholes who'd love to see you fuck up."
I don't understand what's going on. He's right, but this isn't something that's going to give them the rope to hang me. If I can get Clark cleared as an operative and out on a mission, it'll be a triumph, a coup, a definite plus.
I open my mouth to say that, but Clark turns away. "I don't want to talk to you. I'm ending this, now."
He wrenches open the door and slams it shut behind him, and I'm left standing behind my desk, wondering just what in the world he's going to do and if I should go after him to find out.
No. Clark's furious with me, but he'll go back to his office or out for a drive or something, and he'll get his control back and realize that I know what I'm doing or be willing to talk instead of bark. It wouldn't be good to try to have the kind of talk it seems we need to have here. We'll talk tonight. I'll call him later and tell him I'll bring home some pizza, and we'll work this out.
He said that he'd end this. He wouldn't leave the Company... god, I hope he wouldn't.
I pick up the phone and call him.
"Palmer."
Thank god he's there. "Clark, what are you going to do?"
"It's done, and it's none of your fucking business."
And the connection's gone. Clark hung up on me.
Like hell he gets away with that. I'm going to talk to him now. This can't wait. He has to see sense.
When I get to his office, the door's open and he's not there, but there is an envelope on his desk, addressed to me.
I open it.
A letter of resignation.
I stand there, reading the letter over and over, until the words blur.
Dammit, Clark, you can't do this. You can't leave. The Company -
Ah.
The Company won't like the thought of you out on your own. *There's* something I can use.
I pick up the phone and dial.
*****
He opens the door and stands there, no words, but no smiles either. I'm sure that he's got that gun ready, but he doesn't produce it. One small thing for me.
"Hello, Clark."
His eyes go to the pizza boxes I'm carrying. "Taking a second job? Not a bad idea."
I want to smile and pretend that he made a joke and therefore everything's fine, but it's not fine. Not yet.
"I thought I had a second job here, as your houseboy."
His lips tighten. "Those were the days."
They're not over yet, Clark. Don't give up on us yet. I won't let you. You have no idea how stubborn I can be when I think I'm going to lose the man I love.
"May I come in?"
He nods, but doesn't step back. "Those for me?"
"Yes." I hope that I'll get some too, but I'm not so hungry that I need it. "I'd like to talk with you."
"About what?"
Clark, dammit, stop making this so hard. "About my actions that led to your resignation." And about your resignation, but if I make it about that, he'll probably slam the door on me.
"What's to talk about? You made up your mind, you did what you did, I did what I did. It's over."
"It's not over."
He steps back and I enter and hand him the pizza boxes. He stares at them, then leaves, taking them into the kitchen.
When he comes back, he has a glass in his hand and takes a swig from it. It looks like scotch, or maybe rum, but it's definitely a brown liquor. He sits on the couch and glances up at me.
"Well, sit if you're staying."
I am definitely staying. I sit on the other end of the couch. No use pushing him too much too soon.
I'm not sure what to say first. I knew Clark would be upset, but I didn't expect this coldness or this distance. It's as though we never slept together, never laughed, talked, cooked, loved....
No. He may want to believe that, but I know better.
"I got your letter."
He takes a long drink of his brown liquor, and smiles. It's the same smile I saw in my office. "Good. How fast will I be free of the fucking CIA?"
Never, as long as I'm CIA. "That's not an option for you."
"What the fuck?"
"Your resignation is not accepted." Did he think I'd let him go that easily?
"You fuck."
That hurts, but I smile. "Yes. It took you long enough to figure that out though, didn't it?"
He's on his feet and in front of me. Yes, Clark's still quick. He was that quick in London when he and I... killed David Stoner.
I swallow. Yes, that's what we did. I've faced that. I won't back down.
"Clay?" He's not glaring at me now, just staring. Well, I imagine that I look a little disturbed. Thinking about David Stoner does that to me. He was my friend, and I got him killed.
I push those thoughts away. "You were saying?"
He frowns. "I was saying I thought we were partners. Partners tell each other what they're doing. You just up and decided to fuck over your career without a word to me, your partner, and you don't do that."
Yes, we're partners, but even partners get to do something on their own at times. But I don't say that. "I didn't fuck over my career."
"You don't get it." He spins away from me. "Get out of here."
I grab his arm before he can go too far. "Don't turn away from me."
"Right, you're the boss, you can do anything. Well, not here, Webb. Get out," his eyes gleam, "unless you're so desperate to get fucked. Is that it? You're here to get my cock in your ass? Well, too bad, I'm not in the mood. Go find someone else."
"Like Harm?" Who's not in DC at the moment, but maybe Clark doesn't know that.
"Yeah. Go find him. He must be desperate for you now."
Clark really is furious. "No. I'm staying here until I get you to see sense."
"You mean, see things your way. Fuck that." He pulls out of my hold. "Get. Out."
I sit down again and give him a cool look. "No. You're welcome to try to make me, though."
"You - " He bites off whatever he was going to say. I wish he hadn't - I would have liked to find out. "You want me to throw you out? Fine. I'll throw you out."
He grabs my arm this time and drags me to my feet. I lean back when he's off balance and we both end up on the couch.
"What the fuck do you think - "
I kiss him before he can say anything more and wrap my arms around him. He's not going anywhere, and neither am I.
But he twists away and although I keep my arms around him, instead of kissing him I'm staring at hard eyes.
"I'm pissed at you. Sex won't get me to forget that. So let go of me and stop trying."
I release my grip, and he stands and moves away, to his drink, which he picks up and tosses down.
"I have news, if you're interested."
"I'm not."
That's not going to stop me. "You're cleared to go back in the field. Tomorrow you'll get an assignment." And he'll be able to do the work he loves, even if it is for the CIA, but he'll come back, and I'll make sure he comes back to me.
He sets down his empty glass. "You don't get it, do you? You put your career at risk for me. I don't find that acceptable even though you did get what you wanted."
What I wanted, not what he wanted. All right. Let me think about this. Clark's furious because I put my career at risk - because I put myself at risk, for him.
"And you didn't talk to me about it. You should have. You were fucking with my life too."
I blink. That's right. I was. I hadn't thought about it quite that way. I'd thought that he'd be so happy to get back into the field that he wouldn't care how - but he does care.
"You're right. I should have talked to you first."
"Yeah." His arms are folded and he still looks pissed, but he's not telling me to leave any more. That's something. "So how'd you get the assholes to give me clearance?"
I smile. "They didn't like the idea of you out on the loose."
"That's all it took?"
Well, no. It took me convincing them that I was the only one who could keep you under his eyes without putting a bullet in me and that yes, you'd be more than happy to sell your services to the enemies of this country, but we can talk about that later.
He's shaking his head. "Wow. They're dumber than I thought."
That I can agree with. "So you'll come back?"
"Yeah. Sure. But you won't fucking do that again."
I won't need to. "I'll say I'm sorry for going behind your back if you'll say you're sorry for blowing up at me."
"I won't."
That's Clark for you. "Very well. I am sorry." But not too much. I got what we both wanted, even if he's not going to acknowledge that any more than he has.
"Shut up. It's done." He looks away, then back at me. "Want some pizza?"
"I'd like that." We'll heat it up in the oven and I'll see what wine he's got open or drink what he was drinking.
He has a faint smile on his face. "Then we can fuck."
So that he'll be sure that we've made up? Or so that he's sure I'm still his? Or some other reason I'm not thinking of? I could ask, but whatever answer he'd give, it doesn't really matter. He wants me, and I want him. We got through this.
"I'm not that hungry, Clark." I step toward him and lift my hand to his cheek. "Are you?"
"Hell, no." His eyes are shining. "Come on."
*****
I moan as Clark eases his cock into me and it stretches and burns. Not more than I can take, not more than I want. I want him, and now I have him. He has me. We have each other.
"Mine," he whispers in my ear. "Mine."
I brace myself for the hard thrusts I hope are coming. "Yes."
He kisses the back of my neck, and I draw in a deep breath. I want to tell him to hurry up, but this is as much for Clark as it is for me.
But if he doesn't move soon, I will tell him.
He thrusts, and I moan again. Yes. Yes.
He groans as he comes, and I wish then that I was facing him, to kiss him, touch him, see his face contort. But then I'm coming too, his hand hard and hot around my cock, and all I care about is that.
*****
He pulls out of me with a gentleness that I've gotten used to and treasure, then brings a warm washcloth to clean me off. I turn my head and smile at him.
"You should be my houseboy."
He takes the washcloth back to the bathroom without answering, and I wonder if there's more that he's upset about and hasn't told me. I wouldn't be surprised. He's good at keeping things buried under feet of mental dirt.
He comes back and gets into bed, and I put my arm around him.
"I'll take turns if you will."
I smile and tighten my arm around him. "Fine. I'm sure we can work that out."
We can work anything out as long as we're together.
He sighs.
"I like you warm against my back."
"I'll remember that."
He sighs again, even deeper, and relaxes against me until I could swear that he didn't have a bone in his body. Maybe he's part cat.
"Gonna come with me when I get my mission?"
That was one of the conditions imposed by the Company, and I let them think that it was a burden on me, but the truth is that I would have gone no matter what they said. "Yes."
"Good. We'll show them how it's done."
The cocky happiness in his voice adds to my happiness. I let out a long breath and close my eyes.
I got Clark what he wanted, and now we'll show everyone just how good we are, although not now. That can wait until morning. Now I'll sleep with my lover.
The End
Posted 3/20/04
To read the next Eclipse Snapshot, also Clark Palmer's pov of this story, go to A Fight I'm Going To Win
