Title: Straight and narrow
Author: Gail
Pairing: Clayton Webb/Clark Palmer
Rating: R
Summary: How Clark Palmer becomes interested in Clayton Webb.
Archive: yes to Jagslash, Querstrich, RSA, CKOS, WWOMB. All others, please ask me first.
Email: gem225@hotmail.com
Series: Prelude to the Eclipse series, but please treat as Part 3c.
Web Page: Mareen's Den, at:
http://www.fortunecity.de/lindenpark/vogelweide/216/main.htm
Disclaimer: These characters belong to CBS and Belisarius Productions.
Notes: This is for the best Katja-muse, who asked questions that inspired me to write it (in the middle of a message!). And since it's her series, and she says to post it after 3b, Listening in, here it is, even though this happens before the whole Eclipse series started. She and Mareen did the beta work, and, as usual, did it very well indeed.
The history that I draw on for Palmer and Webb is in my story "Getting his hands dirty", which can be found at Mareen's Den, as well as at Ex Libris now.
This is set well before Mareen's first Equinox stories, probably the second season, although I really don't know.
By Gail
***********
Clark Palmer poured himself a tall glass of ice water after he got back from his quiet dinner out and brought it into the living room of his apartment. This was a night off, but not really. There were always more people to keep track of, and the rest of tonight was going to be devoted to one man in particular.
Clayton Webb. His eyes gleamed as he thought about the CIA agent. Webb was doing very well over at the Company, and now at State. Nice to know that he'd recovered from David Stoner's betrayal. Webb was a good agent. If things were different, he'd be a good partner, a damned good one, but Clayton Webb was just too straight and narrow to understand how the world really worked. Oh, well. That was life. And he was doing just fine on his own. He didn't need a partner.
He put the water on the coffee table in front of him, making sure it didn't touch the file that was also there, then let himself sink into his favorite chair, twisting around until he was in just the right position, legs over one of the arms, back against the other. He had changed from his usual suit into his most comfortable clothes, worn jeans and an old and faded Cincinnati Reds t-shirt that hugged his ribs. He ran a hand through his short hair and reached for the file.
Hello, Webb, he thought with a smile. It was so damned easy to keep an eye on someone. You just had to be willing to do what it took to get the information. And that was not a problem for him, ever.
He flipped open the file and leaned it against his legs. It wasn't anything official, instead a typed report from an operative who didn't question his assignment. And he shouldn't, Clark thought grimly. He got paid enough for what he did, but not for independent thought. Funny that the only person he cared enough to keep a very close eye on was Clayton Webb, but he had a feeling about him, and he'd learned to trust his feelings. It kept him alert and out of some bad situations.
He read through the notes closely, raising his eyebrows over some of the reports of Webb's Company activities. God, he was really doing well now. It was too damned bad that Webb was CIA. Really too bad. He could admire a man who did work that well, could really learn from him. But he'd had his chance in England, and that was gone. His eyes went distant and he sighed. England. Should have really found a way to have talked to Webb after that. But that would have been a bad idea. And now, why bother? Webb was definitely over that. Had to be.
He turned the page and found himself laughing over the one that told him, in great detail, about Webb's horseback rides. Still every Sunday with his mother? Clayton, get a life, please. Mommy's not going to be around forever. But then maybe she'll pick you out someone to take over.
That thought vanished as soon as he got to the last page of the report. "Goddamn," he breathed, out loud and amazed. "I had no idea..." His voice trailed off. There was a picture of Clayton Webb and a man, smiling at each other over drinks, and the notes that his agent had made underneath the picture made it clear that Webb and this man had gone home together, with Webb leaving early the next morning in a cab. And he was damned sure that it wasn't because Webb was too trashed to drive. The report had made it clear that neither man had had that much to drink. No, Webb and this guy had done something. Hmm. Something on Webb. Beautiful. He might need this some day.
But still...there was something about the other man that was familiar...and in a moment, it came to him. Tall, lean, dark, military stance. Well, well, well. Did Webb go for the uniforms? He tilted his head and thought, then got up and retrieved the previous reports from his safe. After a few minutes of flipping through them, he had what he needed. Yes. Put the man from the bar in a set of dress whites, and he could almost be Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr.
Clark found himself breaking out into a feral smile. Oh, this was interesting. It looked like Webb had the hots for the man that he ended up doing favors for, often and willingly. He hadn't had the pleasure of making the Lt. Cmdr.'s acquaintance, and wasn't intending to now, but it was interesting to know what Webb's weak spot was. Was there more? Was Rabb bi or even gay? Hmm. Probably not, he decided as he tried to remember the little he knew about the man. He *was* Navy, and in his experience, those types tended to be all duty and little brain. But maybe it was time to do a little checking on Rabb. Just the usual, nothing out of the ordinary. It couldn't hurt. Might even be useful some time. Rabb was a JAG lawyer. What if he ended up trying the wrong case? Might have to deal with him then.
He stacked all the files on the coffee table, then picked up his water and took a long sip. There was something about Clayton Webb liking guys that made perfect sense, really. Idiot, he thought. Should have seen that one. Be that slow when it counts and they'll be putting you in the ground.
And something about Clayton Webb and a guy was bothering him, well, getting to him, really. Why? He knew gay guys, worked with them, never had a problem before now. What the hell was going on with him?
He stood. It was late, just about midnight. Time for some sleep and then work in the morning. He put the files back in the safe, then stripped off his clothes and put them in the hamper, reminding himself to take a minute and run a load of laundry next time he had an hour or two. He looked into the hamper and decided that he'd set the alarm an hour early and do it then. There were too many pieces of dirty clothes in there to wait.
After washing up, he set the alarm and climbed into bed. He expected to fall asleep right away, but instead he found himself wide awake, with his cock poking up into his belly, demanding attention. He reached down to jerk himself off, and in that moment saw Clayton Webb's face as it was in the picture from the bar. Was that the problem? That he wanted Webb? It didn't really bother him to want a guy. He hadn't before, but wanting wasn't the same as doing, and he'd always done what he wanted, not listened to the stupid rules that everyone else was dumb enough to follow. And Webb...well, Webb was different. Special. He liked Webb, always had. It wouldn't get in the way of his work, of course, but he wasn't looking to take him out.
He shook off that thought and got back to the matter at hand. Well, there was one sure way to find out if this was about Webb or not. He moved his hand up and down, keeping Webb's face firmly in his thoughts, and found it changing to one that had passion in it, hearing Webb's voice saying, *Yes. Come on, Clark. Come.* He moaned. Oh, god, he wanted to hear the other man say those things, wanted this hand to be his hand, wanted anything he could get from him. He kept pulling, moaning as his strokes got rougher and he got closer, and then he arched his back and felt himself shudder and come.
He wiped his hand off on some tissues, then got some more to clean his cock and settled back down in the bed. One thing settled. He couldn't say he was thrilled to find out that Clayton Webb turned him on, but he could live with it. After some more intensive research into the man, the interest might go away. But for now, he had a new obsession. His mouth stretched in a smile. Could be worse. At least it was someone intelligent. As far as he could see, Webb had gone for looks over brains.
He dismissed the matter and turned on his side.
The End