Summary: It's time for Jeff Tracy to let go of the past...in a most unexpected way.

Author's Note: This is a story written some time ago, it's archived at the Tracy Island Chronicles under "The Tracy Symphony: Duo – Jeff's stories." Rated for language and violence.

PROJECTED LOSSES

Seasons change. At least, in Middle America, they do. The icy hand of Winter turns to Spring, roadside flowers blooming, tractors churning the soil and planting the seeds that will grow into that Fall's crops. Spring morphs into Summer, with an unbearable mixture of heat and humidity, the insects buzzing so loud as you listen from your front porch you begin to wonder if the buzzing is from them or your own ears. And Summer turns blissfully to Autumn, with leaves changing color and the air growing a bit more crisp as combines work the corn and wheat fields throughout the night until the entire crop has been harvested.

As Jeff Tracy stood on the front steps of the large house on his family's old farm, he could hear the distant rumble of an oncoming storm. Back when he'd worked these fields with his father Grant, in his high school years before he'd escaped to the Air Force, the roll of thunder he heard now would have sent them into a mild state of panic. In and of itself, rain was the farmer's closest friend. Without it, there would be drought, and the crops would not grow.

But when the grain was ripe and the tractors were running, a storm, even a small one, could spell disaster for even the most efficient farming family. Getting wet was bad enough, for the stalks of wheat would get stuck in the combine's teeth, forcing Grant, Jeff and the farmhands to work many hard hours in the dark to clean them out before the harvest could continue. But if the rain were more than a shower, if it came down in large, hard, pounding drops, it could very well destroy the crop, leaving them with no income for that season.

Even worse, Jeff mused as the smell of warm rain wafted through the air, were the severe storms when hail and tornadoes struck. The sheer force of high winds had been known to strip wheat from the stalks as though some invisible hand were shearing it from its berth. And hail...well, that one was obvious. Hail would pound the crops into the wet earth, rendering most attempts to salvage what remained futile at best. Now, as he watched the first bolt of lightning streak from black clouds to the ground far off in the distance, Jeff smiled to himself. Back then, hail pounding on a field of ripe wheat or corn had been the worst thing that could happen to the Tracy family.

How things had changed.

He turned and opened the screen door. Stepping inside for the first time in over fifteen years, he was glad he'd seen to it that the farm and all its contents were kept intact. No one lived in the house full time, but it was not entirely devoid of human life here and there when someone would request permission to stay while visiting family in the area or helping out with the fields. The farm no longer held livestock, but the barns were in mint condition and the fields were still being sown, and still producing crops that were the envy of the county.

He walked through the familiar rooms as scenes from his past leapt to the forefront of his mind. He hadn't thought about this place in a very long time. His boyhood, both frustrating and wondrous; his years as a young man, rising before dawn and drinking several cups of black coffee to be awake enough to start the early morning chores; bringing his oldest friend...his new bride Lucille...for a visit home with his parents after their honeymoon; his sons as toddlers and babies, exploring the same halls and stairs he himself had explored as a child.

He harrumphed as the past threatened not just to engulf him, but to overwhelm him. Mentally shoving those thoughts further down into himself, he decided a visit to the second floor was most definitely not a good idea. Turning, he strode out the front door, locked it and returned to his rented car. He was here on business, and had only stopped by the old farm on a lark.

Bad idea, Jeff.

As he pulled out of the long gravel driveway, he turned for one last look before continuing down the small two-lane road toward the interstate. He had known better than to go for a walk down memory lane, especially today when he had so much business to attend to.

The whole reason you're back in Kansas to begin with.

Too many memories. Things he wasn't yet ready to recall with fondness, for though the years had erased the instant sting that comes with sad events, time had not yet healed the wounds he'd hidden inside. Wounds which this location seemed to enjoy not only uncovering, but rubbing salt into, he noted as his foot dropped against the gas pedal. The car's tires almost squealed on the pavement, taking Jeff away from the farm, away from the house...away from his memories.

The old office building in Kansas City. Not the place Jeff normally came to for Tracy Corporation business, but something necessary for this particular project. He stopped and spoke with the small staff that was left in this office, this first building where he had rented out some space when he was just starting the whole umbrella corporation idea, right after—

No, don't think about that.

Now, of course, he owned the building, but except for the third floor, it was rented out to other businesses.

Walking into his old office, Jeff marveled at how everything looked the same.Felt the same. The same desk, the same book shelves, the same chairs. That was how Jeff liked things. The same. It was, of course, impossible foreverything to be the same, but the smell, the look, the feel of this room...it was close enough to be comfortable.

Old. You're getting old. Everything the same. When you have the most advanced technology on the planet at your disposal?

No, technological advances weren't the issue. Advances of another sort...of a more personal nature...those were the ones he had trouble with, and avoided like the plague. Even Lady Penelope, gorgeous and most definitely a lady in every respect, had only been able to get to a point with him. He leaned back in his comfortable old familiar chair. Toying with the edges of the manila folder he'd found on his desk, Jeff couldn't help but smile as he recalled their last conversation before he'd left on this trip.

I declare, Jeff Tracy, you are the most stubborn man I have ever met.

I'm too old for these games, Penny. Too old and too—

Foolhardy?

Well, that conversation hadn't exactly ended well, he thought as the smile disappeared from his face. Shaking his head slightly, he opened the folder and was greeted with a short biography on the woman he was considering for project manager on his latest contract bid. It was complete with photograph, which Jeff studied with a keen eye borne of years of dealing with people.

Her shoulder-length blonde hair was cut sensibly. Feminine, yet business-like. Her face was plump, laugh lines showing she'd probably had her share of happiness in her 34 years. Hazel eyes seemed to mock him as though they knew something he did not, but he felt no ill will. He flipped the picture back and silently read about the person his lead personnel manager had seen fit to bug him about endlessly until at last he relented and decided to meet with her.

Jennifer Anne North, DOB 3-14-01. Graduated number 8 in her high school class...impressive when there were nearly three hundred others vying for the position...graduated with honors and distinction with her degree in Business Management from Long Island University. He noted that college graduation had come six years after high school graduation instead of four, and made a mental note to ask her about that. Currently working toward her masters in Project Management with a concentration on the application of technology to potential solutions.

She worked full-time for Tracy Corporation as well. She'd been with the company since interning during her college years, traveling 2-1/2 hours from the eastern end of Long Island into Manhattan just because she wanted to work for Tracy Corp. Again, Jeff was impressed. That kind of commuting was a nightmare. Slowly she'd worked her way up from Team Leader of a data entry group to the rank of Assistant Project Manager. In fact, she'd been working very closely with Len Darning, his lead on the Universal Space Station project whose contract for both materials and engineering he'd won one year prior.

Len's recommendation was short and to the point, but for such kind words to come from the man whose nickname was Len Damning, it spoke volumes as to Miss North's qualifications. Jeff quickly read through her professional accomplishments while with the company, noting with pleasure that she was a full member of the esteemed Project Management Institute. That was a tough place to gain membership to, and from the look of it, she'd done it all on her own. Having no immediate family, she'd gone from foster homes during her high school years to being a well-paid woman of business.

Jeff placed the folder back on his desk and noted that she and Tom Trainer, head of his project management groups throughout the corporation, should be arriving within ten minutes. Miss North lived just outside Kansas City, and worked right here in this building, which is why Tom had insisted Jeff make the trip to Kansas to begin with. As Trainer had put it, "She doesn't want to miss a day of work, Jeff. She's that dedicated."

Too dedicated to fly to New York and meet with him about becoming project manager of the most expensive and far-reaching project Tracy Corp had ever attempted?

Well, either she is really dedicated...or she's a damn fool.

Jeff was about to find out which.

"I thought I might give this one to Jenny, Jeff. She's been with us for a while, and she's gone well beyond our expectations."

"Sounds fair. I read her bio. Let's see what she can do, Tom."

Tom walked to the door, stuck his head out, and then opened the door a little wider, allowing a woman to enter the office.

Jeff's practiced eye gave her the once-over, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. Tom smiled. "Jeff Tracy, this is your project manager."

She offered her hand and when he took it, her grasp was firm and confident. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Tracy. Jennifer North."

"Glad we'll be working together, Ms. North. I hear you've already drawn up a preliminary plan of attack."

"I have, Sir," she smiled, placing her briefcase on the small table to the left of his desk. "If you'll just take a moment to look over this project plan, I think you'll find it quite complete."

Jeff took the offered binder and nodded his thanks. "I'll have Linda schedule a meeting tomorrow to go over it. I'll expect you and your team to attend."

My team? I don't have a team!

"Very well, Mr. Tracy." Tom winked at her as she headed for the door. When she reached the threshold, however, she hesitated. Finally she turned and said, "I really appreciate the opportunity to show you what I can do, Mr. Tracy. You won't be disappointed."

"I'm sure I won't, Ms. North," he replied. "See you tomorrow."

He's got the best poker face I've ever seen. He hated me. I just know it.

Still, he was willing to give her a chance. Well, she knew she had Tom and Len to thank for that. And, all things considered, he'd seemed quite warm and personable. Nice, but definitely a veteran man of business. And a man of power.

But what if I can't pull this off? What if he really doesn't like me? I've never worked a project this big. It's got financial ramifications in the millions!

She thought back to a week earlier when Tom had called her into his office and first told her about the Moon Colony project. She had never been so excited in her life, and had been praying every day and night that she'd get the chance to manage this one.

As she rode the elevator down to her own floor, she began mentally ticking off former associates from New York who might make good team members for this one. She needed the best, and that wasn't going to be easy, because the best were already taken.

I'm not above a little bribery. After all, I learned that from the best. But that thought caused her to pale. What was it her uncle had said to her?

I need something a little more valuable next time, little girl. Otherwise things might turn...unpleasant...for you.

She sat down at her desk and saw the message indicator blinking on her phone. Biting her lip, she picked up the receiver and pulled up the only message waiting.

It's only Tom. She breathed a sigh of relief. Giving herself a good mental shake, she pulled out her Rolodex and began flipping through the index cards. Now, who'd be a good financial analyst for this...?

"Damn."

Tom quirked an eyebrow. "What is it, Jeff?"

"I forgot to ask her about the six years."

"Beg pardon?"

"She graduated college six years after high school instead of four. I want to know why."

"Oh, I can field that one for you, Jeff. She has a sort of benefactor who took her in after high school graduation. She worked with him for two years before heading off to college. She calls him 'uncle'."

"Do you know who he is?"

"No. She's never referred to him as anything but 'uncle'."

Jeff rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he picked up the project plan Jenny had left for his review. "I guess she's not as bad off as her bio lead me to believe."

"Well, she's earned everything she's gotten on her own merit, Jeff. I don't know whether this uncle supplies her with money now or not. She hasn't mentioned him in a long time."

Opening the binder, Jeff just made a thoughtful mmm sound as he began to read. Twenty minutes later, he was as convinced as Tom that Jenny North was the right person for the job.

"She's good."

"I told you," Tom smiled. "I'd better get back to the airport. Got a big meeting back in New York this evening."

"No time for a late lunch?"

"Afraid not. You know how it is, Jeff. Duty calls!"

Jeff chuckled and nodded, waving his hand at Tom. "All right, all right, off you go."

"Let me know how tomorrow goes."

"I will. Thank you, Tom."

"You're welcome!" Tom smiled and waved as he left the office, shutting the door behind him.

Jeff was alone. In Kansas City. He suddenly regretted not letting his mother come along with him. She'd asked, he'd explained that he'd be too busy working to spend any time with her...then he was suddenly glad she hadn't accompanied him, for if she had, he knew where they'd be staying tonight.

The farm.

He rose to his feet and walked to the large picture window that overlooked a busy early afternoon. The farm.

Dammit, why can't you stop thinking about that place? That's all it is, just a place.

Jeff frowned. He was getting mad at himself.

Go there. Go back there.

No!

You must.

Jeff paled. Now he was what, hearing a voice inside his head?

Well, he didn't have to do one goddamn thing he didn't want to. With that thought firmly planted in his mind, Jeff headed out of the building, politely saying good-bye to his staff before walking the single block to a semi-fancy restaurant called Della's.

The owner, Della herself, greeted Jeff with surprise and warmth as he entered. She hadn't changed one bit, still plump and with a smile that could light a room.

"Why, if it isn't Jeff Tracy. It's been what, fifteen years since you showed your face around here?"

"About that, Della. How are you?"

"Suddenly wishing I'd known back then that you were gonna age so well." Jeff blushed slightly and chuckled as she led him to a table in the back corner of the restaurant. "What'll it be, Jeff?"

"Same fare?"

"Nothing's changed."

Jeff smiled. Just the way he liked it. "Then give me the house special."

"Oh, man after my own heart. You still single?"

Jeff just shook his head as she walked away. Della always had been a flirt. It had been so long he'd forgotten. The last time he'd been here was with his mother, Scott and Virgil in January of '20. God, so long he'd been away.

Maybe it's time you went back, Jeff.

He squared his jaw against the unwanted voice. Just eat. Eat, go over some numbers, check e-mail, go to the motel, go to bed.

Go back.

No. No going back.