::  Christmas Day  ::

The blond sat huddled in her car staring out into the snow. She didn't see the rustic ranch house before her. Her mind replayed that last argument between them. She knew it was hopeless. There was never enough time. When there was time, they often spent the precious moments talking about their boss. Bartlett was his boss too, damn it. Commander-in-Chief. He lied CJ. The words were hard and harsh. True, but still... why couldn’t he just let it go? He was a more forgiving person than that. She knew this. She’d seen it. At the bottom of the argument she felt as if he blamed her for not telling him.

She had stormed out of the small restaurant, hailed a cab and hadn’t spoken to him since. Now, the Senate was in recess for the Christmas break and Leo got a brief respite from his ordeal. Bartlett was in Vermont, the White House was ablaze in holiday lights and the White House press corps was scattered. CJ Cregg found that she didn’t want to be alone on Christmas Day. She had found his Christmas present almost a week before the blowup and it really was too perfect not to give it to him. Besides, she missed him terribly.

Taking a steadying breath she opened the car door, grabbed the heavy gift bag and resolutely marched up the steps to the front door. It opened before she had a chance to knock. They stood there for a moment just looking at each other. "You better come in." He growled.

"Thank you."

He ushered her in, closing the door behind them. "No. Thank you for driving out here. Thank you for taking the step I should have taken a week ago," he whispered from behind her. He was so close that his breath warmed her long graceful neck. He slid the heavy wool coat from her shoulders, hung it up and turned her to face him. "I’m sorry, CJ. You were right, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you."

"Merry Christmas, AJ." She whispered as he took the heavy gift bag from her. He pulled her into a warm embrace. She opened her lips to his and sighed contentedly as the kiss deepened.

::  ::  ::

"Sergi! Oh my God!" Sarah MacKenzie dragged Rabb’s brother into her apartment. "Oh, I can’t believe you’re really standing there!"

He hugged her back and grinned at the startled young woman behind her. "Merry Christmas, Mac."

Mac made hasty introductions, explained why the petty officer was staying with her, and sat him down. "Don’t move. I have hot chocolate and Christmas cookies."

"You!" Harm laughed. "Who gave you Christmas cookies?" His sneer brought out a glare from Mac.

"I’ll have you know, Petty Officer Coates and I have been baking all morning."

Harm had noted the delicious smell as soon as he walked in but Mac was a notoriously bad cook. "You sure Mrs. Ferguson down the hall didn’t…hey!" He rubbed his arm. "That hurt."

"I will be happy to hit him harder for you, Mac." Sergi watched the interplay between his brother and his partner. He had always figured they were close and perhaps even lovers, but there was an underlying tension between the two now that almost made him uncomfortable.

"No thanks, Sergi. I’m a Marine, I can take care of myself." She smiled triumphantly at Rabb before entering the kitchen.

"Hey, Commander. You okay?" Coates asked gently.

Rabb just looked at the kitchen doorway and sighed. "Yeah, I’m fine." I just can’t figure out what to say around her anymore.

Mac fussed in the kitchen, angry with herself for letting him get to her. It wasn’t that hurtful of a remark. Not like the boyfriend jab she had overheard. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t understand why things couldn’t be good for them. They were, for the first time in ages, both unattached at the same time. Both of them had lost their significant others because of the tension. And now it was killing even their strained truce. That kiss under the mistletoe last night had driven home the point. What kind of kiss had that been? A tear started to track down her cheek. She was afraid one of them would have to leave JAG if things didn’t change.

Quickly wiping her cheek, she put mugs, a thermos of cocoa and the plate of the decorated cookies she and Jennifer had carefully cut from the roll of dough and baked. Each cookie center had either a wreath or a Christmas tree. It hadn’t been hard, of course, Pillsbury had done all the hard work, but they had fun doing it. Coates’ life had been very similar to hers and Mac was determined to help her – after Rabb and Singer agreed on the plea.

When she returned, Rabb was watching Sergi and Jen talk. He wore a happy grin that lit his face. It should have lit her heart. She was happy for him. It was quite possibly the best present he would ever receive. "So, how did you get here, Sergi? Santa pick you up on his way south?"

Sergi handed a steaming mug to Jen. He took a sip of the rich concoction and closed his eyes in pleasure. "Wonderful. Incredible. I am going to like America." He settled into the couch and sighed. "Yes, Mac. Only it wasn’t Santa himself, you understand. It was his elf, Mr. Webb."

Mac’s eyes widened in shock. "Webb? Webb got you out of Chechnya? How? Why?" She looked at Rabb. "What did you promise him?"

Rabb just shrugged and smiled. "Hey. All I know is that I was at the Wall, wishin’ my dad Merry Christmas and I see this card stuck next to his name and the next thing I know, Sergi is standing there. Webb just wished me Merry Christmas and left." He blushed and tried to remember if he had even thanked the spy. Surely he had. Yes, of course he had. "He’d called me a couple of times over the past couple of days, I think he was trying to tell me, but the line kept going dead. I’m almost glad it did. I would have been worried sick."

Well it would have kept your mind off that damn car. The mean-spirited thought came unbidden and she blushed with shame. "So what are your plans?" she asked hastily.

He dropped his eyes to the floor and she suspected what was coming. She sipped her cocoa, nibbled on a cookie and waited.

"Well, Mac, you see, we called Mom last night and she really wants me to bring Sergi out to San Diego, but…"

"But you can’t because of Petty Officer Coates." Mac finished for him.

"I know it’s a lot to ask, Mac." He looked at her with that patented little boy smile.

Petty Officer Coates looked at Commander Rabb and then turned her attention to Mac. Clearing her throat she said. "Look Commander, the Colonel and I talked last night. I can go home to my father’s…"

"No, you can stay with me." Mac retorted strongly. "It’s no problem. It's kinda nice having someone here I can talk to." She heard his pained intake of breath and met his hurt look. "Really, it's fine. Tell Trish Merry Christmas for me. When is your flight?"

He stammered, "I wasn’t sure…"

"Yes you were, Harm. When is your flight?"

"1800 hours, tonight."

"That’s good. Sergi can still spend a little of Christmas Day with all his family now." Her smile was genuine and if her eyes were just a little sad, he really didn’t notice.

"Thanks, Mac. I really appreciate it. Now, who wants to ride in the new car?"

::  ::  ::

Mike Roberts was going stir crazy. He loved his brother and Harriet. He adored his nephew. But after that one kind word and hug last night, Big Bud had reverted to normal. Mike was tired of playing peacemaker. He stood at the window and looked out into the falling snow. It wasn’t heavy by a long shot. It was pretty though. He longed to go outside and just walk for awhile. Turning around he saw a scene he would always cherish. Bud and Harriet were next to each other on the couch, heads touching, both sound asleep. Little AJ was curled between them, his cheek on Harriet’s breast, his arm flung across Buddy’s neck, his thumb firmly in place between his lips.

He started to go to the guestroom and ask his dad if he wanted to go for a walk or something, but sanity prevailed and he left a quick note on the table, grabbed his coat and silently left the tidy Alexandria house.

He walked up and down quiet streets in this town that was even older than DC. Coming upon a Metro stop, he shrugged and descended to the subway.

Stepping out into the Mall he beheld an incredible sight. White lights sparkled everywhere, glittering off the soft blanket of snow. He walked some more and found a small truck concession that was doing a brisk business in hot chocolate and cider. He smiled at the old oriental lady who placed such warmth in his hands. "Thanks." He put the money on the stainless steel counter, turned and nearly spilled the entire cup down the front of the woman behind him. "Oh my gosh, excuse me…Colonel!"

Mac wiped the drops of cider from her wool coat. "Mike." She laughed. "What are you doing here?" She looked around for Bud and Harriet.

"Oh, I wanted to get out for a bit. Walk off ham and all the trimmings." Mac watched as his face suddenly turned a bright red. "Oh hi, Petty Officer Coates."

"Oh, come on Mike, its Christmas day. Surely, you can call me Jenny."

Mike blushed some more. "So-uhm-what are you two doing down here?"

"I wanted to see the lights at night. They’re really beautiful and the White House…" Jenny sighed. "Well, dang, it’s the prettiest thing I ever did see."

Mac handed her a cup of cider. "Come on you two, we’re blocking the window." Leading them toward the Capitol, the Washington Monument seemed almost surreal in the reflecting pool in the last of the twilight. They turned at the Eclipse and paused to stand in awe at the White House. All three stood a little straighter as did everyone who gathered outside the black wrought iron fence. Even though the President was in Vermont, it saddened Mac to see armed guards, their automatic weapons clearly visible patrol the grounds.

The wind picked up, sending the snow swirling around them. "Come on, I bet the Willard is serving dinner. My treat."

"Oh, ma’am, that’s not necessary." Two voices objected simultaneously.

"What? We have to eat." She grinned ruefully at Coates. "Besides, Commander Rabb is right. I’m a lousy cook. Come on, I insist." She gave them a mock glare. "Don’t make me make it an order."

Mac was surprised at the diverse crowd in the hotel dining room. There were families dressed very formally, obviously observing sacred traditions. There were travelers who looked worried and weary. Perhaps they had been forced to be in DC for an early meeting tomorrow morning. She hoped not. Others were dressed as casually as they were. Mike wore a cable knit sweater, and cords. Coates had borrowed a pair of jeans that fit once she rolled up the legs several times. Mac had also given her a lovely soft beige sweater that looked better on her than it would ever look on Mac. Mic had bought it and the color looked awful on her.

Dinner was pleasant. They dined on roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, which none of them had ever tasted before. "Kinda bland, isn’t it?" Jenny had pronounced, unaware that the waiter was standing just behind her. His disdainful sniff had produced giggles from Mac and Mike. Mike talked excitedly about his appointment and Coates listened in rapture. Mac sighed, content to continue checking out the other diners. She almost choked on her coffee. Well I’ll be damned. She smiled wickedly and raised her cup in salute to Bobbi Latham, who smiled back at her. The ears of the congresswoman’s companion grew a deeper reddish brown and finally Commander Turner twisted in his seat, smiled shyly, nodded to her and then returned his attention to Bobbi.

"Oh, I’ve been dying to see that. You know I read it as a kid. Only did it to tick daddy off. It wasn’t proper reading for a preacher’s kid." Coates’ voice drew Mac’s attention back to her own table.

"You’re kidding me. My old man never gave a damn what I read." Mike retorted. "Hey, Colonel, what about you?"

"I’m sorry. What?"

"Lord of the Rings. Did you read it?"

Mac thought for a moment. "No. I think that was an alternate or extra credit, but no."

Mike seemed to bounce in his seat. "You want to come see it?"

"Tonight!"

"Oh, come on, Colonel."

"No. I …"

She saw the look of intense disappointment skirt across Jenny’s face. She started to say something but musical laughter across the room distracted her for a moment. She thought the woman looked familiar. Two men sat with her. One had his back to the room and the other was completely unknown to Mac. Evidently, the woman had a better memory because she leaned forward and said something. The man whose face Mac couldn’t see raised a napkin to his lips before turning slightly to return her look of surprise. He said something to his companions and rose from his chair. As he walked over to their table, Mac tried to remember the last time she had seen Clayton Webb look so relaxed.

"Hey. Isn’t that Mr. Webb?" Mike gasped. He started to say something else but remembering Jenny Coates had no idea who the spy was, clamped his lips shut.

"Hello Seaman Roberts. I understand congratulations are in order."

"How did you know that?" Mike breathed in awe.

Mac just smiled at the smirk struggling at the edge of Webb’s lips. "Oh, Mr. Webb and Commander Rabb are friends. I’m sure that’s how he knew, Mike. Isn’t that right, Webb."

"Of course." He turned his gaze to Coates and waited patiently.

"Petty Officer Coates, Clayton Webb. Mr. Webb is with the State Department."

"Nice to meetcha, Mr. Webb."

"Same here, Petty Officer." He grinned back at Mac. "So where are the two Rabb boys, Mac?"

"I’m surprised you don’t know, Webb." Her voice turned just a little chilly and he studied her for a moment before answering.

"I assumed he would be with you having a vegetarian Christmas."

"No, he took his brother to San Diego."

"For the day!" It wasn’t often that Mac was able to surprise Webb.

"Oh, he’ll probably finagle a day or two more." Suddenly she paled. "Oh. Was Sergi not supposed to leave the area?"

"No. No. That’s not it. I just figured Rabb would have to be at JAG tomorrow."

Suddenly, she tired of talking about Harmon Rabb, Jr. "I’m sure he will do what he has to do, Webb." Her tone stilled any further conversation.

"Ma’am?" Mike gulped.

"Yes, Mike?"

"Do you think it would be okay if I escorted Petty Officer Coates to the movie. I promise Ma’am. I won’t let her out of my sight. I’ll even escort her to the restroom if you want."

Webb, hands in his pockets, watched the scene with some amusement. "Can I assume that PO Coates is in your custody until JAG hearings resume next week?"

Mac sighed but before she could answer, Jenny supplied, "Yes, Commander Rabb is my lawyer. It was either find a responsible person to vouch for me, or the Quantico brig."

"Not a nice place to spend Christmas."

"No, sir."

"What movie?"

"The Lord of the Rings." Mike and Jenny replied in unison and then burst into laughter.

"Oh, okay. Let’s go." Mac capitulated.

"Ma’am you have no desire to see it. Please. I promise. I’m responsible." Mike pleaded.

"U-huh." It was Mac and Webb’s turn to answer in disbelief. They had the grace to smile ruefully at each other.

Mac grew serious. "Petty Officer Coates, you realize the trouble that both Commander Rabb, myself and more importantly Seaman Roberts could get into if anything untoward happens while you are in Seaman Roberts’ custody?"

"Yes ma’am." she whispered.

"It could jeopardize his appointment if the offense is serious enough."

"Ma’am." Mike looked so embarrassed but Coates reached out her hand toward his.

"No, she’s right, Mike. My track record sucks. Oh, excuse me," she blushed.

Mac just snorted. "Go on. Do you have a cell phone?"

"No, ma’am."

She reached into her coat pocket and took hers out. "Here." She wrote her home number down and handed it to him. "Call me when you know what time the movie lets out."

"Yes, ma’am."

The two stood. "Nice seeing you, Mr. Webb."

"Same here, Seaman Roberts."

"Thanks, Colonel. I won’t let you down."

"Damn, Mac." Webb chuckled. "Is that what it’s like to have teenagers?"

"Shut up, Clay." Her own grin softened the admonishment.

"So, you want to finish your coffee with the grown-ups?"

"I don’t want to intrude." She started to look for the waiter, but Webb already had her coat over one arm and her coffee cup in his other hand. "Come on, I don’t think you’ve ever met Tim Fawkes."

::  ::  ::

The moon shone through the still falling snow. CJ Cregg sat on the deep window seat in the front room staring out into the leafless forest beyond. Thankfully, the closest neighbor was a mile away and the road was on the other side of the house. All she wore was the white shirt she had found hanging on the back of his valet chair. Her long legs curled under it. She breathed in the scent of him from it. Not that she needed his garment when she herself was covered in the scent of his lovemaking. There was little doubt that one of the wonderful things about their three month…affair?…relationship? She sighed. Whatever you called it, sex with Admiral AJ Chegwidden was truly phenomenal. Beyond that? They shared a love of classical music and jazz. He was remarkably well read. And, when they weren’t discussing Jed Bartlett’s Multiple Sclerosis, they had lively political discussions.

She sensed him before she heard him fumbling with the logs in the fireplace. She didn’t turn around until she felt the heavy tumbler come to rest against her cheek. Taking the offered scotch, she raised it in salute. "Merry Christmas, Admiral Chegwidden, but aren’t you cold?" All he was wearing was a pair of loose gray fleece shorts.

"SEALs don’t get cold." He bent down and ran his lips over hers. He smelled of toothpaste and soap. She had been touched that he hadn’t tossed the toothbrush she had left in his bathroom. "Hold this?" He handed her his drink and walked over to the dining room table. The only Christmas decoration in the entire house was a huge poinsettia sitting in the center of the table. He picked up the richly wrapped box and walked back to her. "I saw this in a boutique when I was buying Francesca’s Christmas present last week. I was going to use it as an excuse to stop by and see you, but I guess I lost my nerve."

She motioned toward the door. "Go get yours, okay."

He sat next to her and peered into the bag. "Hey, you got me two things."

"So?" She grinned. "Open that one first." She pointed to the gift that could only be a book.

His face lit up when he saw the title. "Thanks, CJ. I’ve wanted this for my collection for a long time. He opened the book’s cover and read. "Admiral AJ Chegwidden. I’m sure you would have been a sailor in any lifetime. CJ." He placed the Civil War memoirs, Under the Blue Pennant by John W. Grattan on the chair next to the window seat. "You think so? What would you have been back in the Civil War, CJ?"

"Oh, probably a reporter. They did have women reporters back then, you know."

"I know." He smiled and reached back into the bag. The box was heavy and beautifully wrapped. He ripped the paper away. Carefully, he took off the lid. "Oh CJ."

Her voice shook. "Is it okay? You don’t think it’s too…"

"CJ, it’s beautiful." Carefully, he took out the bottle and held it up to the light. "It’s the USS Constitution."

"Well, that’s what the plaque on the stand says. The guy at the store says if you don’t like it, you can exchange it for…"

"No way." AJ stood and walked to the fireplace. Carefully, he moved several pictures out of the way and centered the replica. "Your turn." he whispered as he walked back to her.

She pulled the soft green chenille from the box. She had nothing like it in her wardrobe. Her nightgowns were few and utilitarian. Usually, she slept in the nude or in a tee shirt and boxers. The only robe she owned was a heavy terry one she had owned for nearly ten years. She ran her fingers over the rich material and tried to make a joke of it. "Hey, if you didn’t want me wearing your stuff…" but her tears ruined the effect. "It’s beautiful.

"Try it on."

She stood up and let the box fall from her lap. The robe was long and flowing. She started to put it over his shirt but instead handed the robe to him. She let the white cotton join the box on the floor. Turning to face the night, she waited for him to place it on her shoulders.

His lips feasted on her neck as he settled the garment around her. His hands played down her arms and he ended up embracing her as she began to button the robe. "Turn around."

He saw her smile reflected in the window. Saw her carefully unbutton the robe again before turning to face him. A tantalizing hint of skin showed and he felt his erection stir. The fingers of her right hand gently rested over one breast caressing her exposed skin. He sighed. "You’re not going to get much wear out of this, are you?’

She laughed and stepped into his embrace. "Not tonight."

He gasped as he felt her naked heat grind against his groin. Any further sound was muffled by her lips on his. His tongue started to trace the outline of her lips but she pulled it into her mouth. The dual sensations of her sucking on his tongue while her hand stroked his cock were almost too much to bear. Turning them around, he pulled the robe off and tossed it on the chair to cover his book. He quickly tore his shorts off before sitting back down on the window seat. He pulled her down to straddle him, his engorged cock finding its harbor unerringly.

"Oh God! AJ, yessssss." She groaned as he filled her. Her hands locked around his neck and she demanded another kiss. His lips were everywhere they could reach. Arching back, she offered her breasts to him and he nipped and suckled as she began to ride him, using her bent knees to rise nearly all the way off him before slamming back down. His hands kneaded her ass and their groans of pleasure filled the room.

As each plunge dragged her clit over his coarse pubic hair and brought her closer and closer to climax, she tried hard to keep her eyes open to watch his reactions. "AJ. So close. So good, AJ. Come with, with, oh, ohhhhhhh." Her scream of release was joined with his roar of climax and she fell into his arms as he buried his mouth against her neck.

When she could speak again, she managed a shuddering "Wow."

His laugh sent waves of pleasure down her spine.

"Do you want me to spend the night?" she asked archly.

"Damn straight, Madam Press Secretary."

::  ::  ::

Mac couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so freely. Tim Fawkes told the most remarkable stories. Porter Webb was gracious without appearing condescending. Mac was sorry to see the evening end, but it was Clay who pointed out. "You’re the one who insisted that they call?"

"You’re right." She sighed. But when she started to leave she was surprised to see him by her side. "Hey. It’s no big deal. I’ll get a cab."

"Don’t be silly. I met mom and Tim here. I’ll drive you home." He helped her on with her coat and led her outside.

"It’s so pretty." She breathed as she raised her face to let the snow fall on her eyelids.

Something in the way he said, "Oh, yeah," made her look at him. He was almost successful. The mask almost fell into place in time. But she caught the hungry look in his eyes. She was surprised to discover an answering hunger of her own.

Neither spoke as the valet brought around his car. Clay opened the door for her. He unnecessarily took her hand to help her into the passenger seat. He held it for just a moment too long, before letting go and closing the door to his Mercedes. When he settled himself behind the wheel she had already buckled her safety belt and was resolutely staring out the windshield. He smiled at the deep red blush on her face but knew that nothing would happen.

Clayton Webb drove carefully through the mush of late Christmas Day. It was nearly 11:00 and traffic was non-existent. They had talked so easily at dinner but now the sudden tension in the car was so pervasive he was afraid to say anything.

"You mother is a remarkable woman, Webb." The soft whisper caressed him.

This was safe. "Yeah she is, Mac."

"Have she and Mr. Fawkes been seeing each other for a long time?"

"Huh?" He let his eyes dart away from the street for just a moment to stare at her in shock. "Mac. Mom and Tim have known each other for years. They’re friends. Good friends, but…" The look on her face told him she had seen something tonight that he had refused to even consider all these years. He had thought that his mother was just showing concern for an old dear friend who had been there for them when his father had disappeared years ago. He forced his attention to the road, his mouth suddenly dry. But he quickly considered the evidence and realized everything his mother had kept hidden from him. "I’ll be damned. Some spy I am, huh?"

"You really didn’t know? Damn, why do I suddenly feel like I just told a little kid there’s no Santa Claus?" The humor was gentle and it softened the blow of the sudden knowledge she was right.

"I guess I was kind of selfish as a kid. Never wanting to share her. After dad – died." He stumbled over the word. "After dad died she was always so protective of me. She always made sure that she went to every single meet, or school play, or debate. She did it all by herself. Tim would sometimes come for dinner. Sometimes, she would go to some embassy function but I always thought that she went by herself." He laughed. "I remember when I was a junior at Harvard. She was talking about some party and how she hated to go alone. I gallantly offered to take her." He was lost in thought for a moment before he continued. "It was nice. She’s a really good dancer and we had a good time that night. But now."

"Now?" She gently prodded.

"Now, I remember looks that had to be disappointment when I would insist upon escorting her. A couple of times she told me how boring they would be and it wasn’t necessary, but nooooo. Good old Clay to the rescue."

"You seem to be doing that a lot lately." She touched his arm. He could feel the fire through his wool coat, suit jacket and shirt. "I can’t believe you risked your life to get Sergi out of Chechnya."

He shrugged and was grateful and saddened that the action of turning onto her street caused her hand to drop away. "Hey, I had two carloads full of grain I didn’t know what to do with."

She glared at his profile. "Why do you do that?"

"What? Do what?"

"Make a joke out of everything. You did a good thing, Clay." Her voice dropped. "Did he even say thank you."

"Sure he did, Mac. Besides Sergi’s a good kid. He deserves a chance." He was suddenly happy to be pulling up to her building. He should let her go up by herself, but he didn’t. Jumping out before she could protest he was around the car in time to help her up to the high curb. "Watch it, there’s water in the gutter." She allowed him to pull her up and up until she found herself being held against him. Startled green eyes held her gaze for just a second before he firmly moved her around him. Closing the door, he took her elbow. "Come on, a gentlemen walks a lady to her door."

"I’m a Marine, Clay." She admonished but didn’t argue further. Even through the double layer of leather jacket and soft wool sweater, his hand felt good on her elbow.

She let them into her apartment and her eyes immediately rested on the blinking red light of her answering machine. "Colonel, its Mike Roberts. We’re at the Cineplex in Georgetown. Man you wouldn’t believe how crowded it is. The next show we can get into starts at 11:45. The movie is three hours long so, uhm…well, I’ll make sure that I walk her to the door, but you don’t have to wait up, ma’am. I’ll have her back by three, promise."

Mac chuckled. "I don’t remember, but you’re right, this is what it must have been like to have been a teenager."

"You think she'll get him into trouble?"

"No. Not really, but people don’t change overnight. I see a rough road ahead for Petty Officer Coates."

"Nah. From what you were telling me, she won’t want to let Commander Rabb down."

She heard the whisper of bitterness in his voice, but chose to ignore it. Stepping into the kitchen doorway, she smiled back at him. "You want some coffee?" She followed his eyes to look above where she stood and blushed. "Damn, Chloe must have put it up there before she left." When she looked back down she was surprised to see he was next to her.

"Thanks no, Mac. I better head out." He moved his head an inch and waited for her to either step back or meet him half way under the mistletoe. Well why the hell not? It can’t be anymore uncomfortable than that kiss from Harm. She brushed her lips across his but instead of just a gentle touch, he stepped into the kiss. His lips seemed to set hers on fire and when his hands took her arms and held her closer, she didn’t fight him. Instead, she parted her lips and let her hands rest on his hips until he tightened the embrace and then she moved them up to his back.

When he finally broke the kiss, dark passionate eyes locked on each other. "I…uhm…I think…"

Something inside her shattered. It had been nearly six months since Mic had left. Six months of dancing around her unresolved emotions for Rabb and six long years since every single personal involvement revolved around how ‘he’ would feel about any man in her arms. To hell with that. "Don’t think, Clay."

"Mac." The groan sent shivers down her spine. "This isn’t such a good idea."

"Oh yeah?" She countered and delicately ran her tongue along his jaw. "Feels pretty damn good from where I’m standing."

He gulped. "What about…?"

"Don’t Clay. I want to make love to Clayton Webb tonight. I don’t want to think about anything or anyone else. You aren’t a substitute and I’m not using you to do anything but to explore this feeling YOU stirred inside me."

He took her face in his hands and stared into her eyes looking for some hint of lie. His long fingers rested against a pulse point in her neck and he felt her heart racing. He closed the distance between them and this time the kiss was rougher, more demanding. His tongue invaded her mouth and when his hands dropped from her face they immediately sought her ass to pull her to him tighter still, grinding her mound against his already rock hard erection.

If she was shocked by his ardor, her actions denied it. Gently pushing him away, she took his hand and led him back to her room. Closing the door and locking it securely, she grinned at him. "You best divest yourself of anything you don’t want ripped off, Mr. Webb."

He laughed out loud. "I always suspected you might be a tiger in the bedroom, Colonel." His coat, jacket and vest were carefully laid across a chair by her window. He toed off his shoes and socks and then slowly pulled the tie from his collar. He was putting on a slow strip show for her as he teasingly freed each button. He didn’t take the shirt off, though. Instead, he moved his hands down to work on his belt and zipper. While the slacks joined the rest of his clothes she noticed that he kept his belt dangling from his hand. She stared at it as if hypnotized by the swinging action. "Protection from the tiger, Mac. Besides, you’re a little behind me in the getting naked department."

"Mmmmmm," she whispered. Seductively, she drew her sweater over her head to reveal a pale satin bra.

"That regulation, Colonel?"

"I’m not in uniform, Webb."

"I’ll say." The sigh turned into a groan as she trailed her fingers over her breasts and down her stomach before tugging at the jeans she had worn when she and Jenny Coates walked along the Mall. Bending over, offering him a view of her cleavage and a hint of her dark brown aureoles, she pulled down the zipper on her boots before kicking them across the room. She stepped out of her socks and then teasingly pulled down the jeans, never taking her eyes off his. When she stood back up, she took care to rub her hands over her silk covered mound and up over her breasts.

"You gonna finish?" She purred.

Instead of answering, he walked up to her and growled. "You do it."

"Drop the belt and I will." The leather snaked to the ground and she ran her fingers up his chest over his shoulders catching the starched cotton shirt. As she pulled it down his arms she tickled his ear with her tongue, and whispered. "What were you going to do with the belt, Clay?" She felt his shudder and let it join her own. "Tell me." She teased as she rucked his tee shirt over his back, letting her hands caress his fevered skin.

Instead of answering, he rubbed his hands up her back and deftly unhooked her bra. "Lay down, Sarah." There was a note of command that she knew she would have to accept or quash immediately. She studied the passion in his eyes and chose to let him have his way – for awhile. Reaching behind her, she pulled down the comforter and sheet in one sweep. She scooted to the center of the bed and her own grin told him she knew what he was thinking. Without him even asking, she reached behind her and grabbed the iron bedstead. "You into bondage, Clay?" she whispered seductively.

His tee shirt was off and the belt back in his hand before she even realized he had moved. Straddling her hips, he dragged the leather over her nipples. "Not often, but I want to take my time with you, and I don’t want you to try and stop me, once I start."

"I usually finish what I start, Clay."

He held up the belt. "Yes or No…Sarah?"

She swallowed, but nodded. "Yes."

He wrapped the belt around her wrists and she tugged to make sure they were secure. Her actions caused her hips to undulate under him and he groaned at the sensation. Leaning forward, he captured her lips in his. As his tongue invaded her mouth, his hands began to roam over her. Light touches followed by rough pinches had her on the brink almost immediately. As his lips began to explore her neck and shoulder blades, she began to buck.

"None of that, now. Relax and let it happen, Sarah. I want this to last a long time."

She gasped. "Three hours and 10 minutes?"

"What?" He sat up and looked down at her. "Excuse me?"

"You have three hours, nine minutes and 52 seconds before the movie lets out."

"They’re adults, Mac."

She snorted. "You think you can actually make this last that LONG?"

"You challenging me, Colonel?"

"Oh yeah."

By the time his lips finally reached her mound, she was beginning to worry that he might just still be at it when Mikey brought Jenny back. Well, she really wasn’t worried. She was past all real concern about anything other than his lips and hands on her. Damn, he was good. "Clay, please." She groaned as his hands finally tugged the satin down her legs. "Please, Clay."

"Patience, Sarah." It was his only response and he started to kiss his way back up her legs, spending an inordinate amount of time on the backs of her knees, causing her to cry out at the sensation. She could swear she had already come more times in the past hour than she had in all the times she and Mic had been together. In fact, the orgasm never really subsided, but ebbed and flowed with each new sweet torture he visited upon her flesh. She tugged impatiently at the leather, but even though her shoulders would be sore tomorrow, she wasn’t worried. Why should they be any different than the rest of her body? When his tongue and teeth finally captured her clit she actually passed out from the intensity. Bucking wildly she saw stars and his face over her just before everything went black.

She woke almost immediately. She was still panting, still gasping for breath, but her hands were free and her arms were wrapped around him. He was staring into her eyes with concern and wonder. Reaching up, she kissed him greedily, tasting the salt from her sweat and her juices on his lips. She never liked kissing a man after he had delved so intimately but it felt right and good now. Her hands trailed down his waist toward his naked erection. "When did you manage to get them off."

He buried his lips in her sweat soaked hair. "You were distracted."

"My turn to distract you."

He rolled them over until she was straddling him. Still panting, she planted light kisses on his eyes and lips. Her hands rubbed across his flat nipples and flicked at the hard little points there. Moving her hot, still pulsing core over his stomach, she stopped as his erection bumped against her ass. Moving her crack over it, she coated him with the mess he had made of her. "Payback’s a bitch, Webb."

"Talk’s cheap, Colonel," he gasped.

"Ooohoho. You will pay dearly for that, Clay."

"Hope so." His lips smiled but his eyes were black with passion.

When she settled between his legs, she knelt back on her heels and studied the thick bobbing cock before her. She wasn’t an expert at the male anatomy, but his size rather surprised her. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but she licked her lips at the thought of him filling her, stretching her. She trailed one painted nail up the entire length. "I want to taste this Clay. I want to touch it, but I want you to come inside of me. Understand?" As if to drive home her point, she firmly grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed.

"Jesus H….yes…Sarah. Please…anything…just…ple…ughnnnn." He finished in a gasped moan as she blew across the tip before running her tongue across the slit already dripping precum.

"Mmmmmm. Nice, but don’t you dare cum until I tell you." She knew she couldn’t take the same time he had taken with her. Poor men. They might very well have incredible orgasms but they only had one at a time. Her own core was beginning to clench again in sympathy with the almost animalistic groans coming from the man beneath her. While her tongue worked up and down his shaft, her hands caressed his already painfully tight balls. She engulfed as much of him as she could and wondered exactly how those porn stars actually did what they did. For the first time in her life she wanted to feel a man invading her fully. He lay there, his fingers fisting the rumpled sheets. He showed a remarkable amount of control, refusing to buck into her, though she could feel the strain in his thighs from the effort he was making.

She was in complete control until she let her hand roam a little too far back and her finger began to explore his puckered opening. Without warning he reared up, forcing her mouth off of him. The next thing she knew, she was flat on her back, he was looming above her, his cock poised unerringly at her opening. "Let's save that for another time, shall we, Sarah?" he growled just before plunging into her in one long stroke.

It was like he had forced all breath from her body. He filled her all the way to her cervix and it was painful and wonderful all at the same time. He must have seen the pain flit across her face because he immediately stilled, letting her adjust to his size. "Sarah?"

"Mmmmmm. So good. Feels so damn good," she murmured, her eyes fluttering. When she began to move her hips, he pulled out and started to slowly return home but her eyes nailed him and she reached up and pulled him down deeper still.

"Oh Jesus, Sarah. Baby, so tight. Please tell me I’m not hurting you."

"Do it, Clay. Fuck me hard." With that, he lost what little control he had been able to maintain since she first blew across the head of his penis. He began a furious assault on her, only vaguely aware when her legs embraced him. Her heels hitting the small of his back in rhythm with his plunges only increased his pleasure. When he came, he roared his release and as he fell upon her completely spent he heard the intense cry of her final orgasm.

He tried to roll off of her, but she held him tight. Nestling his head in her soft neck, he tried hard to regain his breath, but finally gave up and let nature take its course.

The cold awoke them and he sat up and helped her to return to the pillows at the head of the bed. Pulling the covers over them, he looked at the clock and muttered. "To hell with it. They’re adults."

::  ::  ::

Mike Roberts practically had to drag her up the steps. "Come on. If I know the Colonel, she's waiting up for us."

"Mike, for goodness sake it’s 3:30 in the morning. Oh shit."

"What?"

"How are we going to get inside?"

"Damn, I hadn’t thought of that. Well, I guess we’ll have to wake her. Trust me on this, if we don’t, there will be worse hell to pay."

"You’re right. And I am kinda tired. Is your sister-in-law going to be really mad?"

"Nah. Harriet is the best." He stared down into her worried eyes and then leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. "I had a really great time, Jenny."

"Yeah, it was a great movie."

‘I didn’t mean just the movie."

"I know, but you better get going."

"Nope. I promised I would walk you to the door."

She pouted. "You don’t trust me."

He looked hurt. "Of course I trust you, Jenny. I just want to spend a few more minutes with you." He pulled the phone from his pocket. "Besides, I want to give Mac back her phone." With that, he reached around her and rang the bell. They waited and he rang the bell again. And then again. They were beginning to get a little worried when they finally heard the buzzer and click of the door.

Her door was ajar and the light from kitchen illuminated the apartment. But there was no one waiting for them. "See," she whispered triumphantly. "She probably stumbled out here, pressed the buzzer and went back to bed. "You want to come in?"

"No," he squeaked. "No. Here, Jenny." He handed her the phone. "I hope I can see you again before you return to base." He didn’t even give her a chance to answer, but turned and bolted from the apartment. She smiled happily and she closed the door and threw the bolt home. It had been a wonderful night. The movie was better than she had expected. She had lied, of course. She had never heard of Lord of the Rings before tonight. But it hadn’t mattered. He had talked and she had listened and it had been nice to be around some one as nice as Mike Roberts. She kicked off her shoes and padded into the kitchen.

Finding a glass of milk and the rest of the cookies, she sat on the couch and considered the closed door of Mac’s bedroom. She felt sorry for the Colonel. She could tell that it wasn’t going to work out between her and Commander Rabb. The Commander was a really nice guy, but boy did he obsess about the weirdest things. Oh well, she would see what was on TV. There wouldn’t be a lot to do tomorrow. The colonel didn’t strike her as an after Christmas sale kind of person so maybe they would both just sleep late.

Clayton Webb stared at the door and then back at the still sleeping Mac. He had barely heard the insistent buzzing of the door. He had stumbled out into the front room, found the release and then headed back to the bedroom. He figured they would express a few pleasantries, perhaps even a kiss or two and then the Petty Officer would go down the hall to the guestroom and he could slip out before either woman woke the next morning. But it seemed that the Petty Officer was going to make a night of it.

In anticipation of Coates doing exactly what he wanted, he had donned his clothes. He would have preferred to shower off, but he didn’t want to wake Mac. She looked so beautiful sleeping there; her hair all mussed around her face. He couldn’t remember the last time sex with anyone had been so damn good. Rabb was a complete idiot. And you old boy, were a Christmas diversion. He took a deep breath and debated with himself. He could crawl back into bed and face Mac’s barely concealed shock and disgust in the morning. He could boldly exit the bedroom, stare down Petty Officer Coates and let Mac deal with the embarrassment. He smiled evilly. He had little doubt that the Petty Officer would make sure that the Navy Commander knew the spy had been in the Colonel’s bed. There were definite possibilities there. He would rather face her anger than her disgust.

"Clay?" Her whisper broke his musings and he found himself drowning in her eyes again. "Come back to bed. Sheesh, you got dressed to go open the door? You definitely have some issues." She moaned softly and snuggled down into the bed.

She wanted him back in bed! Couldn’t be. He wouldn’t have been a bit surprised if she had moaned Rabb’s name anytime doing the proceedings. Hurt, but not surprised. That she had called him by name – several times throughout the course of the night - and demanded that he return to her side nearly blew him away. It nearly drove him from the room in abject terror. It was not supposed to be like this. This was supposed to be a one-night stand between two friends who didn’t want to be alone. He couldn’t allow it to go any further.

"Clay." Her hiss was more insistent. "Come back to bed."

"Okay, Sarah."

Fourth of July

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