A Worthwhile Phone Call

Author: Tulip

Rating: NC-17
Category: Romance

Spoilers: Up through Defending His Honor

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 also NC-17, but it's short. There's really no Harm-bashing in this one, because Harm and Mac were more or less getting along in-canon, and I need for that to be happening, for Mac's peace of mind.




The day after Harm and I get back to the States from the Seahawk, we get stuck with the Judge Sebring case. To say that I'm unenthusiastic about prosecuting is an understatement, but I am grateful when Sturgis offers to second chair the case. We get to work, and three or four days later, Harm buzzes me to tell me Clay's on the phone and wants to talk to me. I'm really happy to hear from him, he's been almost all I can think about lately. I must admit to being a little curious as to why Clay called Harm first.

"Hey there."

"Hi, Sarah," Clay says, in a very tired-sounding voice. I'm immediately worried about him.

"It's really good to hear from you."

"Sorry I didn't call you first, but I thought Harm would be more cooperative with me, if he knew I talked to him before you. I made sure that he did. I need him to call his Russian Naval contact, friend, whatever, Alex Volkonov, for some help." I can tell something's wrong, but I think I'll ease into it.

"Was he cooperative?"

"Yeah. He apologized to me on the ship, actually, for what he said about Mustafa."

"Oh, yeah. He actually told me that. We had a little talk in Aviano, and things have been much better. I should say, things are going fine so far, but it's only been three or four days. So, where are you now, if you can say?"

"Still at the Darya Bulkh Camp. I'm headed to Russia, though, although I can't say where."

"Are you okay, Clay? You sound kind of tired and stressed."

"I'm sorry," he says, and I wait for him to say something else.

When he doesn't, I say, "There's nothing to be sorry about. That's what friends, and couples do, you know, listen to each other."

"It's just that... I'm trying to figure out how to best say this under the current, uh, circumstances."

"Oh, security-wise."

"Yes." He speaks slowly, obviously choosing his words carefully. "Let me put it this way. I don't really like how this current situation is forcing us, the Agency us, well, me, to use tactics that I wouldn't ordinarily use in order to get information. It's really sucks, and I uncomfortable with the potential consequences." What the hell is going on over there?

"Clay, I'm sure you have to play hardball to get them to talk. No one wants another September 11."

"Well, I wasn't sure this guy today was going to call my bluff. I can justify it on one level, but not on another." I don't really know that he's ever been this open with me before, and it seems to be scaring the hell out of him. But he also seems somewhat overwhelmed by the situation.

"Everything's okay, though? Everyone?"

"Yeah. It's why I know where I'm headed in Russia. But, still."

"I know. I wish I could be there with you, to help make it better." I really wish I could. He must have really made a threat to someone, and I'm glad for his sake that it turned out okay. I don't know that I could do it, but someone has to. I do wish that someone wasn't Clay.

"Me, too. I'm sure you could make it much better." This is a good opportunity to lighten the subject here, he's down enough as it is.

"Speaking of which, Clay, I got your note. And I seem to be missing a t-shirt."

"Yeah, I have it," he says, sheepishly. "I wanted something of yours."

"Are you wearing it? I'm sure it'll fit you."

"It does. I don't have it on right now, though. Listen, you haven't gotten any trouble, for what happened in your stateroom, have you?"

"No, not at all. I'm sure no one knows, or, if Harm suspects, he's kept his mouth shut. You know, I was so hungry on the way to Italy. I would have rather been with you than eat, at the time, but I thought I was going to die."

"I'm very glad to hear that. Well, not that you were so hungry, but the other thing. I found it to be enjoyable, myself. An experience I'd rather repeat sooner rather than later. Maybe with food this time." I'm getting a mental picture of strawberries and whipped cream.

"No kidding. As to both. I think the idea of combining those two things is very appealing."

He groans. "As much as I'd rather talk about that, I really need to get off the satellite line and get to work. I'll try to call from Russia. Could you call Mother and let her know I'm still in one piece?"

"Sure. That'll give me a chance to ask her to lunch one day."

"I'm really glad you two get along. Okay, I really have to go. Bye, Sarah."

"Bye; be careful." He clicks off. This war totally sucks; I really miss him.

My case falls apart, and, while I'm glad Judge Sebring is more or less off the hook, I feel really bad about what actually happened. I can't imagine being in that situation. It makes me think a little about where I might have ended up, if I hadn't joined the Marines. Living hand to mouth, struggling through cleaning hotel rooms because I don't have the education to do anything else. Once again I'm reminded how lucky I am. I have a job I'm good at, good friends, and a great guy.

My great guy manages to call me from Russia. It's 2303 when the phone rings, and I had just gone to bed.

"Hello?" I really hope this call isn't work-related; I don't want to have to get up and get dressed.

"Sarah, hi," Clay says.

"Clay, how are you?" Not work at all.

"Cold. It's very, very cold where I am."

"I wish I could be there to make you warmer." I don't even bother to ask where he is.

"I do, too."

"Is that why you called? Or can you not talk?"

"Yeah, I can talk. I'm in my hotel, and I think it's okay if I call my girlfriend." I smile, happy that he's called me his girlfriend. "What are you wearing?"

"Silk pajamas. What are you wearing?"

"Boxers and your t-shirt."

"I wish I was with you, so I could take them off of you."

"Why, Colonel MacKenzie, where are you going with this?"

"Anywhere you want, Director Webb. Take off your clothes."

"Yes, ma'am." I hear rustling on the other end of the phone. "Okay, now you. Just keep this in mind: if I were there, I'd unbutton your top very slowly, kissing the skin that gets revealed, as I go."

"Okay, I'm unbuttoning my top and brushing my fingers along the skin that's being exposed." I can hear him breathing a little harder, but he doesn't say anything. "Okay, it's off. I'm undoing the tie on my pants, now. One second." Not very sexy, but I have to put the phone down to get undressed. "Okay, Clay, are you there?"

"Yeah," he says, then takes over. "I want you to run your fingers lightly from your shoulders down to your hips, then back up again. Pretend that it's me."

"I am, but you do the same. If I were there, I'd suck on your nipples. I didn't get to spend as much time doing those kinds of things as I wanted to, on the Seahawk," I say as I pinch at my own nipples.

"Oh, Sarah, I wish we weren't in this war, and I wouldn't have to be away from you. I want to make love to you so badly."

"Me too," I say, moving my hand lower. "I'm really wet just thinking about you."

"Jesus, Sarah," Clay says in a husky voice that I'm finding to be an incredible turn-on.

"Tell me what you're doing. Or what you'd be doing to me. If I were with you right now, I'd be kissing you as I stroked you with my hand, running my fingers around and around the head, then down your shaft." I stroke my clit as I talk.

"Mmmm. I'd kiss my way to your sex so I could taste you, slip my fingers inside to feel you. You know, I'm sure we could figure out a way to pleasure each other like that. Have you ever done that before, Sarah?"

"No, I haven't, but I think it's an excellent idea. I could have your cock in my mouth, rolling my tongue around it, and sucking."

"God," he gasps. "I, uh, I'd enter you with my tongue, and, then, uh, I'd lick my way up to your clit."

"What would you do, Clay, as I was sucking on you and stroking your balls, gently?"

He moans, and I echo. "I'd suck on you, uh, until you came, and I'd have to be inside you. Sarah, you're so tight and wet and hot."

"I'm so close, Clay, I want you so badly." I continue my ministrations to myself, pretending it's him. "I want to feel you moving in and out of me, you feel so good."

"Sarah, oh God," Clay says, and hearing him like that pushes me over the edge.

"Clay!" We're silent for a few minutes, breathing deeply.

"Are you still there?" he finally asks.

"Yeah. Boy, you should call more often. Although I'd rather you were here."

"I wish I was with you, too. I'm glad we could at least have a phone call. The last time, when I was on the satellite line, I'm not sure the guards wouldn't have necessarily appreciated that. On second thought, maybe they would have liked listening in on a little phone sex."

I laugh. "Well, if you were going to do that, we should have just had sex in the camp while we had the chance. You know, I thought about that, how the prisoners would have been so upset at two Americans making love before marriage, right in their midst."

"You thought about that? In the camp?"

"Yeah. I almost jumped you, after you saved my life, but I didn't think it was the best idea."

"I think you're right, that wouldn't have been the best location for the first time. At least we had something resembling a bed, even if it was, for all intents and purposes, a single bed."

"I couldn't wait any longer. If something happened to either of us, I know it's morbid, but I wanted to have that. You know?" I'm not being very articulate, but it's starting to get late.

"I know, Sarah." He's quiet for a little bit. "I'm actually headed back there, later today. I don't know when I'll be able to call you again. And e-mail access is difficult."

"Yeah, I know. And you probably owe your next call to your mother."

"I know, but, and this probably sounds terrible, I'd rather talk to you."

"I appreciate that, but she's disappointed when she doesn't hear from you. She's had you all to herself for a long time, you know. She couldn't be nicer to me, don't get me wrong, but I'm sure it takes some getting used to."

"Yeah, my relationships were casual for so long, and I usually didn't call. Unless I was gone for an extended period of time. And even then, not always. That must sound really bad," he admits. "In my defense, I was always really clear that I wasn't interested in anything serious."

"Why not?" I'm really curious.

"All the lying. Plus, it's not really fair to be in such a dangerous business, and then to bring someone into it, unknowingly. My mother knew about my father's job, and she understood. And, I feel liked you've made the choice with your eyes open. I haven't had that luxury with anyone else."

"You're really very honorable, even though you like to sometimes pretend that you're not." He laughs softly.

"I don't want to have to get off the phone, but I need to get cleaned up and packed up to go back."

"I know," I sigh. "You'll find him, I'm sure you will."

"I wish I had as much confidence." I know he can kind of let go with me, but I'm still a little worried about him. He sounds kind of defeated, and that's not like him.

"You should, Clay, you're very good at what you do." We're silent for another minute or so, neither of us wanting to get off the phone.

"I have to say goodbye."

"All right. Goodbye, be careful, and I'm sure I'll see you soon."

"You too, Sarah," he says softly, and I hear the phone click.

Now I'm kind of depressed. I hope he takes a break when this is all over, and that the Agency lets him. He can't sustain this for too much longer, I don't think. Well, all I can do is be there for him. I snuggle into my bed, not bothering to get redressed, and think back to our phone conversation, the pleasant parts of it, anyway. I drift off to sleep, smiling.


A Worthwhile Trip to the Seahawk
A Worthwhile Trip to Afghanistan
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