August 20, 2008 - Langley, VA - 2:24 AM

"Carter. Can't say I expected to hear your voice again."

It was after 2am and Andrew Monroe, Deputy Director of the CIA's Special Activities Division, had almost made it home less than 20 hours after he left. It really would be a novel experience. He'd shut his computers down for the night, even made it as far as hitting the light switch. Now he was back at his desk, waiting patiently to hear why Jack Carter was suddenly ruining his nights again. Listening to the sigh over the phone, he could almost see Jack rubbing the back of his neck, the way he always did when he was over-thinking something.

"I need a favor. Clearance. Sort of."

"Sounds like an issue for the Marshal Service," Monroe said, waiting to hear more of an explanation. When Jack left, he did so of his own accord, claiming secretive, bureaucratic bullshit was making him prematurely gray. There had been a lot of speculation as to the real reason, with secrecy seeming the least likely, but Monroe suspected the only one who really knew that answer was Jack. Jack, who had proved more than once that if he didn't feel like talking, he certainly wasn't going to.

"DOD actually. I'm out of scope and over some heads on this one. I was also a bit bored as a marshal, I'd have expected you to know that." There was no smile in Jack's voice, but from the delivery, it was easy to tell there was supposed to be.

"I don't have time to babysit your ass, Carter. There are flags, you haven't triggered them." They had been triggered actually, which is why Monroe was still indulging this conversation. It had been just over two years since Jack Carter's Marshal file had been marked inactive, and just as long since any other information had popped up. Not that it mattered. Jack was considered surprisingly low-threat, despite all the information that was likely still floating around in his head. Still, with a paper-trail so non-existent even the Agency couldn't have hidden him better, Monroe had to admit to a certain amount of curiosity.

"Crappy flags." There was silence over the phone, but it was tense enough that Monroe knew to wait for whatever was coming next. "I need my file restored."

Only years of concealing his opinions and reactions kept Monroe from rolling his eyes. Of course he needed his file restored. Not too many people leaving the Agency requested, or practically demanded, that their educational history was wiped from existence. Why would they? It made no sense. It had left Monroe with the distinct impression that Jack would turn into one of those poor crazy bastards who retired and spent the rest of his life alone in the woods or lived out their time as the quirky neighborhood recluse. Then he'd gone and joined the Marshals. Granted, he had always been more action than academic, but his love of learning and the incredible ease with which he did so had served him well over the years. Though how he did it, Monroe would never know. He'd barely survived the four years it took him to finish one degree. No paycheck, no saved lives, not a damn thing could have made Monroe spend an extra decade of his life in college, cover be damned. But Jack? Well, the little part of Monroe's brain that hadn't suspected Jack would go bat shit insane, that part knew this day was coming. People that smart could only let so many brain cells atrophy before they couldn't take it anymore.

"Where are you, Jack?" The answer was slow enough in coming that Monroe actually wondered if he was going to get one.

"Eureka."

"Eur… Jesus, Jack. That makes no… How did you even find Eureka? That town is so classified I'm not sure the President has directions to get there." Eureka. Well, wasn't that a recipe for disaster. Jack had to know they were probably capable of digging up more of his history than he'd like. If they hadn't already. Monroe wasn't sure Agency monitors were capable of picking up Eureka's actions. He knew only the smallest bit about the town, but he knew the word impossible didn't make it into their overly-extensive dictionary. "More importantly, why are you there?" The missing, because you no longer have the qualifications to work there, hung silently at the end of his question.

"I'm the Sheriff," Jack stated as though it should be obvious, and Monroe ran his hands over his face, shifting slightly to turn his coffee maker back on. He had a feeling this was going to be a long call.

August 19, 2008 - Eureka - 5:58 PM

When Nathan was offered the position as Director of GD, the opportunity to return seemed like a sign, like his life had come full circle somehow. He had traveled, lived, loved, and somehow still ended up at home, in Eureka with his family. So, like any logical, calculating man of science, he made a plan. He was going to win back Ally's affection. Make her see that busy schedules were part of life, not an insurmountable obstacle. Explain, perhaps a bit more patiently than last time, that committed did not mean dead, and he would occasionally glance at a shapely ass passing him by. Enjoy more time with Kevin in his life. Far more than a phone call each week, the duration of which was spent hoping to get one or two words from the boy. Maybe even convince Ally to try for another child since he'd always wanted a daughter. He was going to have his family and his job, and life was going to be simple and happy.

Then he met Jack Carter. Slowly but surely, Nathan couldn't help falling for the stubborn, obnoxious, dim-witted, too sharp for his own good, Sheriff who made his life hell on a daily basis. Not that he would ever say so out loud. No, he wasn't in his 20's any more or even his 30's, he was 40, and he needed to focus on his family, not some ill-conceived attempt to turn the very vanilla everyman into his lover.

He had a plan. Even if the paperwork, and the meetings, and the phone briefings, and the god damn monotony of it all kept him hovering just this side of crazy. Even when he desperately missed the 20 hour days in the lab, being so wrapped up in his work he barely knew what day of the week it was, never mind what time he needed to be in a teleconference. Even though all he wanted was to create a few of his own disasters instead of cleaning up someone else's. No, he had a plan. A good plan.

Standing in the chamber, watching Jack watch him, his heart broke with the knowledge that he'd been wrong. He would trade his plan, he would trade it all for five more minutes with his sheriff. He tried to conjure up an image of Allison, mind failing in the task. As much as he loved her, there was no passion left in their relationship, only a long and tangled history. Even as he heard his own voice saying he was doing it for Ally and for Kevin, he knew it was a lie. He was doing this for Jack. Between his multiple traversals through spacetime and the stacking layers of damage to his body, there was absolutely no chance Jack would survive the time shift. Himself, well, he figured his odds were about fifty-fifty. And if survival resulted in another fifty-fifty shot of dematerialization, well those were the breaks. This was Eureka, he could round out the trifecta with one more fifty-fifty that someone would realize what had happened to him. No matter how you looked at it, he had better odds than Jack. And Jack had to live. There was no other choice.

"See you around, Jack."

August 19, 2008 - Eureka - 6 PM

Jack felt his chest constrict, even before Fargo's whoop of joy had registered, grappling with a pain he hadn't felt in years. He didn't need an IQ higher than 111 to know that Nathan had been lying. Of course he could have done it, anyone could set a clock. He just hadn't been fast enough to beat Nathan to the chamber. Not with all the damage he'd taken coming through the loops. Guilt slammed into guilt as he realized he hadn't actually thought Nathan had it in him to sacrifice himself. And Nathan was smart enough to have calculated the odds before he stepped into that chamber. Damnit! It was his job to protect Eureka. His, not Nathans!

It didn't seem to matter where he went, he was always losing someone.

As the particles swirled in his vision, and Fargo's pained yells for Dr. Stark echoed through the time lab, Jack barely had time to be surprised by his own reaction before the darkness closed in on him. The last thing he remembered was Nathan's voice, garbled through the darkness, I just hope you'll be seeing me, too.