A Worthwhile Trip to the Seahawk
Author: Tulip
Rating: NC-17
Category: Romance
Spoilers: Up through Tribunal.
Disclaimer: They ain't mine. They belong to CBS, Bellisario, etc. I'm just borrowing them and not for profit. Y no tengo dinero.
Feedback: Sure
Archive: Tell me where
Notes: Yes, this is NC-17. This is what you all have been waiting for, so patiently. I'm quite mean to Harm, and his father, in this one, so if severe Harm bashing bothers you...
When Harm and I arrive on the Seahawk, we go straight to the legal office and get to work. Bud gives us the rundown on what he knows, how long Mohandese has been interrogated, and that sort of thing. When Harm looks over the draft witness list, I can see his wheels turning, and he gives me what I would consider an evil grin, before telling me that he'll let me do Clay's direct examination. Atef's confession is key to our ability to definitively link him to Mohandese, and we need Clay to get the confession into evidence. The other evidence we have circumstantially points to the fact that Mohandese is Mustafa Atef, but it's crucial to prove they're the same person.
Once we get our preliminaries done and split up the workload between us, I head off to find Clay. Harm says nothing, but he gives me a look. He's obviously going to be watching us like a hawk, and I get the feeling he's trying to silently warn me about sex on the ship. It's certainly crossed my mind. Harm's been irrational enough about this to cause problems if we
sleep together and he finds out, even though it may not be technically wrong, since Clay isn't in the service. I wouldn't mind pointing out to Harm that his father apparently broke that rule with Jenny Lake, but Harm seems to have no problem with that, despite the fact that his father was cheating on his mother and having sex on a ship.
It would be a really low blow to trot that out, I realize, but the fact that I'm even considering it shows how far things have deteriorated between us personally. Professionally, however, we're in a zone, which is a little strange. But maybe not, because we're both well aware of the stakes of this trial, and I'm not letting anything interfere with that. I know Harm isn't either. A successful prosecution of Mohandese will look really good in both of our records.
I knock on Clay's stateroom door and am somewhat surprised that he's there. He initially cracks the door open, just a little. The only light that's on is a little lamp, and when he sees it's me, he motions me inside. He's got on wrinkled dress pants, but just a t-shirt. He pulls me into a crushing hug. "It's so good to see you, Sarah."
"You, too. How have you been?"
"So tired. I had actually fallen asleep." He finally lets go of me, after giving me a peck on the cheek, and leads us to the bunk. He moves some papers before we sit. "I heard you were on board, but I haven't had a moment to come find you."
"I know what you mean. We haven't been given very much time to prepare this case for trial. Actually, it gives me a good excuse to come see you, but we do need to talk shop. Harm wants me to handle your direct examination." Uh-oh, he just got a really strange look on his face, and he seems really nervous.
"Can we get that out of the way first?" he asks.
"Sure. But are you okay? You seem kind of... I don't know... nervous?"
"Sarah, I'm not sure you're going to like what I have to tell you about our interrogation of Atef. We had to use pentathol and some other aggressive tactics to get him to talk." Harmon Rabb is one son of a bitch. He had an inkling about this, and he's trying to drive a wedge between me and Clay by sending me in here to find out 'what he's really capable of.' I'll do what I want, and, if Harm tries anything with me, I'm pulling out the Jenny Lake card. He can go to hell.
"That's not unexpected, Clay. I need to know everything you did, and I mean everything, so I can figure out how to handle it." He blanches a little, and I rush to try to reassure him. "I know you didn't torture him. Unless you played nothing but Hank Williams, Jr. at full blast for days on end. That might be considered torture by some of us." He smiles at my lame joke, then scoots back to sit against at the head of the bunk, while I sit at the other end with my pen and pad of paper. He starts at the beginning, and I take notes, interrupting every so often with questions.
When he finishes I try again to reassure him. "I can work with that. When you're testifying, just give me the shortest possible version." I pause for a second. "That shouldn't be a problem for you." We both laugh. "I don't know who's going to do your cross, the Admiral or Commander Turner. Turner seems mild-mannered, but he'll go right for the jugular if he can get away with it. They're going to focus on the length of the interrogation, the potential unreliability of pentathol, and try to paint the music and the lights as torture. I know you won't get rattled, but you need to know what to expect. You're a very important witness for us, key to establishing that Mohandese and Mustafa Atef are the same person."
"To be honest, I wish you weren't trying this case right now. I need more information out of Atef, and he's not talking."
"I didn't realize that. I assume you think something else is in the pipeline." He looks at me in such a way that I know I hit the nail on the head. "Okay, I get it, you can't tell me or you'd have to kill me. Let's change the subject."
He's quiet for a while, just studying me, his arms resting on his knees, which are pulled up. I finally ask, "Are you okay?"
"Sorry, yeah, it's just been a long time since I've seen a friendly face, and I'm so glad it's you. I was just thinking about how beautiful you are. The only women I've seen recently are pretty much covered, or they're missing teeth."
I laugh. "I'll take that as a compliment, although most women would look good in comparison to what you've described."
He chuckles. "You more than look good. I've really missed you, Sarah."
"I've missed you, too, Clay," I say, crawling down to where he's sitting and, finally, kissing him properly. He demands entrance to my mouth immediately, and I push his knees down and crawl onto his lap, straddling his legs.
We're interrupted after about ten minutes when Harm radios for me. We need to finalize our strategy before the trial starts. "I'm sorry, Clay, I have to go so we can get ourselves organized, before opening arguments. I have a feeling we'll be getting very little sleep. I wish I could stay longer."
"So do I," he says, pulling me close and kissing me again.
After a few minutes, I break our kiss and say, "I really do need to go. Harm's got his radar up as far as we're concerned. He's not being at all rational about us, and I think he might report me if he figures out we slept together on board. Not that that would stop me. I have some ammunition of my own."
"What does it matter? I'm not in the Navy. But I don't want to do anything to jeopardize your career. I don't understand why Harm's being such a dick, I had thought we were friends, in a way."
"Yeah, I know, and I thought he and I were friends, too. That's why he wanted me to do your direct, because he must have read the interrogation log or something. He assumed I would be upset, or something. Mohandese is a mass murderer, like I care if he was uncomfortable, he'd do far worse if he were interrogating any of us." We both stand up. I kiss him again, and say, "Clay, as much as I would prefer to screw your brains out..."
He groans but interrupts me. "I understand. I've got a lot of stuff I need to do, as well. We'll talk later," Clay says. We finally let go, and I smile at him and take off.
We manage to steal a few moments together here and there, but generally just ten or fifteen minutes at a time. As usual, Clay's a good witness when he finally testifies. Nevertheless, the Admiral is nevertheless successful in excluding Atef's confession, primarily on the grounds that it took so long to obtain. We need to find another way to tie him to Mohandese, and
Harm and I make our way to the captain to arrange for transport to the prison camp where Atef spent a short period of time to try to find a prisoner who will flip and identify Mustafa Atef as Mohandese. Harm makes the assumption that he's going, but I put the kibosh on that by successfully wangling my way into going. Wangling isn't the right word, actually, because it makes far more sense for me to go than Harm, which Bud pointed out. Now Bud is probably going to end up in Harm's doghouse. It's getting a little crowded in here. Unfortunately for Bud, I don't think he knows that Harm's irritation doesn't only stem from the fact that he'll be out of the action, so I think he's going to be blindsided by Harm's attitude. It's abundantly clear that Harm doesn't want me going off on this adventure with Clayton Webb.
At least Clay and I can spend some time together, even if it's not "quality" time. I was a little afraid he was going to say something to me about putting myself in danger, but he doesn't. I need to stop comparing him to my past boyfriends; he has far more respect for me professionally than any of them ever did. I should have known he wouldn't stop me, unless he had a very good reason, like I wasn't the best person for the job. I wouldn't have been happy, but I know that Clay does what he believes is best.
We can't really talk on the helo, because it's too loud, and the situation on the ground is so tense, that we pretty much stick to business. I spend some time catching up with the Gunny, while Clay is making nice with the camp commander, and doing whatever else he does, probably with that wad of cash he's trying to pretend he doesn't have. Despite our attempts to stick to business, I'm feeling some sexual tension running between us, but this is neither the time nor the place. I smile at myself, picturing the guards at the prison camp, not to mention the prisoners, go ballistic at two Americans having premarital sex in their midst. We might as well roast a pig and drink beer.
We're both a little upset and irritated that we can't interview the prisoners until the day after our arrival, but there's nothing we can do about it. They had to put us in the same tent, although they apologized profusely, as if Clay would somehow be tainted by being forced to stay in the same quarters with a mere woman like myself. Clay and I look at each other, highly amused, and our amusement grows when we go into the tent and see that they had hung a blanket down the middle. We both start laughing when we see it, and I feel like we're in "It Happened One Night" with Clark Cable and Claudette Colbert. We push the blanket aside so we can see each other, although we don't move the cots any closer, despite having talked about it. We talk for a long time, and neither of us really gets that much sleep.
The next day, the guards bring all the prisoners at once, and I protest briefly. Clay says, "They're here now," and, he's right, we can't afford any more delays. Unfortunately, I make the rookie, and exceptionally stupid, mistake of getting within a prisoner's arm span. The bastard grabs me and puts a knife to my throat. I am more terrified than I think I've ever been, but manage to not hyperventilate and pretend to maintain my cool. I'm immediately able to tell that Clay is working to get me out of this mess. He gives me a little signal, at the first opportunity that presents itself, and I elbow the guy in the gut. There's a short altercation, during which I'm caught in the middle of a gun battle. When it's over, after Gunny saves my life, Clay tells me he knew I'd get out of it if the prisoners thought they were getting what they wanted. He takes my arm, and we walk away.
When we're out of earshot of the Gunny, he says, angrily, "Shit! What is wrong with me? I am so sorry, Sarah. I shouldn't have said it was okay to keep them in the yard as a group. I should have realized how dangerous it was, and insisted they be brought out one at a time."
I grab his hand. "Stop, Clay, I could have said something, and I didn't. Gunny could have made a suggestion, and he didn't. And I stepped right into his wing span. It was stupid. But thanks, for handling it. I could tell you had a plan."
"I'm glad. I was worried that you wouldn't realize what I was doing."
"I did." We both sit down, and he squeezes my hand. It's like we're holding on to each other for dear life. I want to kiss him, and reassure him, but we can't do anything like that now. I lean my head on his shoulder, and we sit like that for a while, not saying anything. Gunny eventually comes to find us, and his eyes about bug out of his head when he sees how we're sitting.
After a brief discussion, we decide to separate to try to find out some information quicker. I would really prefer not to stay here tonight. The prisoners are highly pissed that I, a woman, am here and have now caused the deaths of these "holy warriors." I've also heard some grumbling among the men working in the camp.
Gunny and I walk off together, and, although he says nothing, I can tell he's dying of curiosity, so I give him the thumbnail sketch of what's been going on in my life. As we talk, we come upon a prisoner wounded in the altercation. They try to stop me from giving him water, but, boy, am I glad I did. The prisoner ends up giving us some key information about Mustafa's brother Khabir. I send Gunny to get Clay, and it's crystal clear that they're planning something really big, and that the probable target is the military. We get back to the ship as soon as we can, our arms linked during the entire helo ride. I think we're both sort of feeling our mortality, and I need that physical connection with him. Frankly, I would have
screwed his brains out back in the camp if it hadn't been so dangerous. I'm sick of waiting, and I don't want to die without knowing what it's like to be with Clay.
We land on the Seahawk, and Bud meets the helo. He tells us that Mustafa copped to everything on the witness stand, and that he's been found guilty. They're in the sentencing phase, so we rush down to the courtroom, arriving in time to hear the court hand down the death penalty. Afterwards, we tell Harm that Mustafa needs to be kept alive. Harm really doesn't like that I had this information before he did.
Clay runs off to talk to his people, and the Admiral tells the two of us to stay on the ship for a while, so that we can assess anything Mustafa has to say. I go to Clay's quarters later, after I've showered, and although we're both pretty happy about the possibility of being able to see each other quite a bit, even under these circumstances, I don't stay too long despite my earlier resolve for sex. We're both really tired, from pretty much no sleep the night before, and Clay needs to get back to work on Mustafa the next morning. We're practically falling asleep as we kiss, and, while it's tempting to stay here, Clay needs to concentrate tomorrow, and these bunks are just so small. The things we do for our country, I swear.
Any hope we have of spending some time together was short lived when Mustafa killed himself. I didn't think it was possible, but Harm makes the entire situation worse by practically accusing Clay of killing Mustafa. I'm so angry I could spit, and I can tell that Clay is exercising supreme self-control. I'm sure he wants nothing more than to use Harm as a
punching bag right now. Harm tells me that he's going to call the Admiral to get our orders, and I just ignore him. I'm so angry right now, I know that if I open my mouth, a lot of really hurtful things are going to come out that will likely irretrievably damage our relationship. Like, he's a total shithead and is the worst lover I've ever heard of, much less had myself.
Bud can tell something's wrong, but he has no idea what. I walk over to Clay and touch his arm. "Come to my quarters when you're done here, okay?" He nods his head. "C'mon, Bud," I say, and he follows me out.
"Ma'am, I don't mean any disrespect, but what the hell is going on?"
I give Bud a short synposis about the change in my relationship with Clay, and Harm's reaction to it. "Bud, I can't believe he just accused Clay of killing Atef. He knows good and damn well al-Qaeda has something in the pipeline, and that Mustafa knows what it is. First of all, Clay wouldn't do that. Second of all, even if he would, he certainly wouldn't kill
Mustafa, before he got out of him what we needed to know. That's just plain stupid."
"I don't know what's wrong with the Commander, ma'am. He was really mad at me for suggesting that you go to the camp instead of him. And, then, just now, well, before we came to the brig, he told me that if Mustafa had gotten acquitted, he might have gone after him."
"What?! And then he comes down and... I swear to God, the depths of his hypocrisy... I don't want to believe that this has to do with my relationship with Clay, but I don't know what else to think! I thought we had worked this out, but he just won't butt out of my personal life. I already threatened to go to the Admiral; I don't want to have to do that again."
"I didn't mean to upset you, Ma'am."
"Oh, Bud, I was already upset. I can't believe he told you he'd kill Mustafa himself and then came down here and... God!" I can't remember when I've been this angry.
Bud gets a call on the radio, and I head back to my quarters to wait for Clay. He arrives in about 15 minutes, looking very dejected. "I have to stay here. Well, not here, here, but I need to find Khabir," he says.
"That's not too surprising." I pull him over to the bunk, and sit us down. "It's not your fault, you know. He was obviously determined to take the information with him. Maybe he was afraid that you'd be able to get it out of him."
Clay gives a sharp laugh. "Maybe. It doesn't change the fact that something really bad is going to happen."
"Let's forget about the Atef brothers for just a little while. Please?" I move his head to face mine, and lean in to kiss him. He pulls me into a hug, and I lay down on the bunk, pulling him with me. He stops to shrug off his suit coat, and throws it over on the desk. "Keep going," I say, as I move my hands to unbutton his vest.
"What about, um, regulations? Or whatever," he says, as I kiss him.
"Screw that, the only person who really cares is Harm, and he can go to hell," I say, kissing him. I lick the roof of his mouth and move my hands faster on his buttons. When I'm done with the vest, I loosen his tie, and start on his shirt, plundering his mouth the whole time. He finally seems to get a grip on what's going on, and he undoes the tie at my throat and starts unbuttoning my shirt. He takes charge of our kiss, and I hear his shoes clump to the floor as I unbutton the final button on his shirt. It's still tucked in, but I run my hands over his chest anyway and spend some time on his nipples. He gets my shirt off, and I move my hands to unhook my bra.
"Sarah," he says, pulling it free, as he kisses and sucks his way down my neck to my breasts, swirling his tongue around one nipple, and then the other. One of his hands is busy on my other breast, as the other is stroking my stomach. I'm in ecstasy right now, and I'm feeling the moisture pooling between my legs. Clay presses his hips into me, and I can feel his
erection. I move my hands to his belt and undo his trousers, so I can get his shirt free. He shrugs off the shirt and vest and tosses them towards his jacket. I kiss along Clay's shoulders and stroke his chest and stomach, before running one of my hands into his boxers, tugging a little on the line of hair that runs from his navel to his cock, as I go. He moans against
my breasts as I take him in my hand.
Clay finally moves his hand to my pants and undoes them. "Are you sure about this?" he asks.
"Yes, Clay, I want you so much. I need you." This seems to be the right thing to say, because he pauses, and finishes undressing me, then himself. He lays back down on the bunk, covering me. This isn't the most comfortable place to be making love, but it will have to do. I pull Clay's face down for another kiss, but I move one of my hands down his body, back to his
erection, while the other stays in his hair. He strokes his way down to my sex, and I let my legs fall open. He spreads my lower lips and slips a finger inside me as he thrusts his tongue in and out of my mouth. He slides his finger up to my clit, and draws little circles around it. I move my hand a little lower to gently stroke his balls.
After a few minutes of my ministrations, Clay breaks our kiss and gasps, "You need to stop." I move my hand up to play with his nipples, and I suddenly realize I'm on the verge of orgasm, because of what Clay's doing to me.
I pull my legs up and tear my mouth away from his to say, "Clay, please, I need you inside me. Now." He maneuvers himself between my legs, and I guide him home. He fills me completely, and I move my legs up as high as possible. He moves so slowly, and pulls almost all the way out, rocks forward a little to bump against my clit, and then back in. I squeeze him with my internal muscles as he does this.
"Jesus, Sarah, you're so tight." Clay continues his excruciatingly slow pace, and he manages to massage one of my breasts as he does this. This has the effect of bringing me to the edge more than once, and I finally gasp out for him to move faster. He immediately complies, and it occurs to me that he's probably been exercising extreme control. He had said it had been a while, and I realize he's holding back for me. I'm so close that there's no need for him to do that.
"Let go," I say, as I pull his head to mine for a kiss. He starts slamming into me, and moves a hand between us to stroke my clit. All he really had to do was touch it, and I'm over the edge. I arch up into him as I fall off the edge of pleasure, panting his name.
"Oh, Sarah," he says, and I can feel his spasms as his body goes rigid. I pull Clay close and just listen to him breathe. "I'm sure I'm crushing you," he finally says, and moves out and off of me. We have to turn on our sides to both fit on the bunk, and we maneuver so that he's behind me. He strokes my breasts and my stomach. I reach my arm behind me to stroke his hip. "I don't want to go to be here anymore, I want to go home with you."
"I want you to come home with me, but we all need you to find Khabir. You'll find him. And now you have incentives to do it quicker."
"I do," he says, kissing the back of my neck. We doze off for a while, and I'm startled awake by a knock on the door. I struggle to get up, and I grab Clay's shirt. I don't know why, I have no intention of opening the door.
"Who is it?" I ask, as Clay sits up. I didn't really get a chance to look at him before, and I stare at his naked form for a few seconds. I need to remember, for when we're separated.
"Harm."
"What the hell do you want?"
"What the hell is the matter with you?"
"What do you want, Commander?"
He sighs. "Our transport is leaving in three hours."
"Okay, I'll see you on deck, then."
"What's wrong, Mac? Let me in."
"You accused Webb of killing Mustafa, and you ask me what's wrong? I'll see you on deck, Commander."
I hear Harm saying something, but I walk away from the door towards Clay. He knocks again, and I just shake my head, ignoring it.
"Any idea when you need to leave?" I ask him, quietly, so Harm won't hear that he's in here.
"Tomorrow morning," he grins.
I had sort of wanted to do some exploration, but I haven't packed, and I need to shower, so there isn't really time to be too leisurely. "I need to shower and pack and all that, see Bud, so that leaves about an hour for more pleasurable pursuits." Clay laughs, gets up, and walks over to where I'm standing.
"What was that you said in your e-mail? That when you came to get me at the airport, we'd find the nearest bathroom and fuck up against the wall?" I nod as I look down to see his cock start to come to life. I reach out for it.
"You're wanting to recreate that e-mail? Not my first e-mail?"
"Well, that too, but there's not time to do both. I don't think I'm capable of that," he smiles, as he leans down to get to work on my breasts with his mouth and his hands. Harm knocks again, and says something that I can't hear. Not that I care, as aroused as I am right now. Clay stands up after a few minutes. "This might actually be easier on the bed." I nod and we walk backwards, kissing, until his knees hit the bunk. Clay loses his balance and sits down hard. I manage to stay standing, I wouldn't want to sit down too hard and damage the merchandise. I push him until he's laying back, and begin my assault on his chest. I lick and suck my way down to his cock. I take him in my mouth and get to work. Clay's hand comes up to my head, and I feel his fingers playing in my hair. After a while, I release him, and crawl back up, straddling him with my legs.
Clay says, "It's a good thing you didn't do that earlier, it wouldn't have lasted too long, I don't think."
"I'm that good, huh?" I ask facetiously before kissing him again. Clay's hands fly up to my breasts, as he nods. I kiss my way along his jaw to his ear then down to his shoulders as he kisses my neck and moves one of his hands down to my sex. We stay like that, content to explore each other with our lips and hands, when my body is racked with an orgasm from what he's been doing with his hand.
"Wow, you're good," I say, moving my lips back to Clay's. He gives a little chuckle, but then moans when I writhe around on top of him. My hand is already on his cock, so I sit up a little and guide him into me. I sit up and set a much quicker pace than he did earlier. I really can't be late getting on deck, or there will be trouble. I take Clay's hands, lace our fingers together, and hold them down on the bunk, by his shoulders. He kind of looks at me. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you," I say playvulli, grinding down onto him, clenching around him.
"I trust you," he pants, which, coming from him, means as much as an 'I love you.' I keep moving faster, rocking forward so I'm getting the perfect stimulation on my clit. I think Clay is getting close. I am too, and I don't really notice that he's trying to get his hands free. "Oh, God, Sarah," he says, slamming up into me. I can feel him pulsing inside me, and I have another orgasm myself. A few minutes later, he says, "Sarah, could you let go, so I can touch you?"
"Oh, sorry." I let go and stretch out on top of him. I lean down to kiss him and run my fingers through his hair a little bit. He rubs my back.
After a few minutes, Clay says, "I don't want you to leave, but I don't want to keep you. I can pack your stuff for you if you want to go shower."
"Mmmm. I'd rather stay with you. A bigger bed would be good, though." He laughs. I suddenly realize what time it is. "I think I will take you up on your offer to pack, actually, or I will be late." I kiss him again, and then push myself up and get off the bunk. I get my stuff together for the shower, and pull my bag out of the locker. Clay watches me leave.
When I get back, he's put on his boxers, and he's almost done packing me up. It's time to say goodbye, and it's much harder, this time. I consider telling Clay I love him, but I think he knows, and it's hard enough for me to leave without adding that to the mix.
"Thanks, Clay. You see, if we just work together, and pool our resources, there may be more time for sex."
"I like the way you think, Colonel. I'll try to call you when I can, but feel free to send me more e-mails, along the lines of the ones you sent before. There might actually even be cybercafes or someplace with Internet access in Russia... I'm sure I'm going to end up there. And, you know, there's actually electricity there," he says conspiratorially.
I laugh. "I think that can be arranged. Now that I've had the real thing, I can have some accurate visuals to add to my imagination," I say suggestively. "Seriously, though please be careful." I'm pretty worried about what he's about to do. Khabir and his people wouldn't hesitate to torture a CIA agent before killing him slowly and painfully. I'm sure he'll be fine, he's been in bad scrapes before. But I wasn't in love with him before, either.
"I will, Sarah," he says softly. He zips my bag and comes over to hug me. "Thanks for today. The thought of being with you is what's been keeping me going. And will be keeping me going." I smile at him and kiss him, trying to pour all of my feelings into it. I end it by sucking on his lower lip. I finally pull away, and he says, "Wow."
"I really have to go. I'll be thinking about you, all the time."
"Me too." I kiss him again and force myself to walk out the door.
I run by the legal office to say goodbye to Bud and Petty Officer Coates. I tell Bud that I'll make sure to tell Harriet hello. He gives me a pointed, "Good luck," which makes my stomach sink a little. It may be a very long trip back to D.C. I collect the gear I'll need for the COD, and I'm on deck on time. There are a few other people going back, and I make sure I
get on after Harm does, because I have no intention of sitting next to him. I don't want to get into an argument with him in an enclosed area like a COD. It's completely inappropriate, not that that's ever stopped Harm, but, more importantly, it's not private. And I still need to cool down, I've got too many very hurtful things at the tip of my tongue. I sit and take out my book, leaving no room for interpretation. I force myself to actually read it for a while, and when I see that Harm's sleeping, I put it down and think about my morning with Clay. I realize that I never ate lunch, what with the sex and all, so I'm kind of hungry.
Harm and I end up stuck at Aviano overnight because of weather, and we have it out. Again. This cycle is getting really old, and I tell him so. He tells me that he tracked Clay down right before he came on deck and apologized. Clay was far more gracious than I'm being now, apparently, but I'm certain that some of that had to do with the fact that he had just gotten
laid. He was very relaxed when I left, I think. But Clay also hasn't had to put up with Harm's shit lately, and I didn't tell him about what Harm said to Bud before we got called down to the brig about Mustafa. Anyway, Harm apologizes to me, and admits that he's a little jealous that I have someone now and he doesn't, and also that he didn't like that I went to the center of the action while he got left behind.
I accept his apology, but tell him if he pulls this shit again, I'll be talking to the Admiral. He knows I'm serious, and I think he really means it this time. We talk about the trial, and I tell him that I'm sorry I missed the defense case. I'm kind of relieved when we part company to go to bed, and we're not fighting. I'm still not completely over my anger, but, as long as he means what he says, this time, I think we'll be fine. I'm glad to be alone, actually, so I can think about Clay a little. When I dig into my bag for something to sleep in, I find a note from Clay:
"Sarah,
You're in the shower, and I'm supposed to be packing your bag, but I wanted to leave you a little something. I hope Harm doesn't make any problems for you, if he figures out what's been going on in your stateroom. I know I'll be thinking a lot about what went on in your stateroom during my lonely, cold nights. I'll be thinking about things we didn't do, like, for example, I didn't get to taste you. It wasn't for lack of desire. It was more a logistical problem with the bunk, actually."
I start laughing. I just love his sense of humor.
"Anyway, it's something for you to look forward to. I'd also like to explore your 'up against the wall' scenario. And I'm sure I can think of some others, but I should probably pack your things. I hope nothing's missing. Unless, of course, I've taken it...
Love,
Clay."
This note is sort of unexpected, and it's very sweet. Not to mention sexy. I go to sleep smiling.
