PART II
Kate put the receiver down and turned her chair so that she could look out the window. She'd known he wasn't dead. She would have heard if he had been killed. But almost a year of silence: after the first few months it was as if he were dead. Her life was busy. She made it busier, and after a while she missed him less and less as the huge space he had occupied in her life got smaller and smaller. She put it aside and kept going and gradually became open to the possibility that maybe someone else could be to her what Jack used to be.
What was uncanny was that she really had been thinking about him, one of those unbidden memories of him that strangely surfaced every now and then had popped into her mind. They'd been at a ballgame and he'd taken the corner of a napkin and dipped it in his beer and protectively wiped the mustard off her cheek. Smiling at her he'd said "I can't have my Kate covered I condiments". She'd laughed, saying "No, but I can smell like a brewery", and he had kissed her forehead and put his arm around her and she'd rested her head on his shoulder. It was just warm enough, sitting in the sun, and she'd volunteered to score the rest of the game in his program. That way he wouldn't have to move that arm and she could stay there, close to him, and feel his heartbeat and smell his "Jack" smell. Plus, she could still watch the game.
"Please God" she said silently to herself, "Please let him be ok. Just let him be ok."
She decided to tell her father that she had plans to "see a friend". And then she'd check her make-up and brush her hair and pull herself together.
He got to the restaurant first and took a table towards the back, away from the long bar in front and the TVs. No conscious thought. He just automatically selected the table where his back would be up against a brick wall and he had a good view of who was coming and going, and of the doorway to the kitchen. It was second nature, at this point; closer to an instinct. He was more alert than ever these days, just noticing things other people would never see, his eyes regularly surveying his surroundings, listening for a sound that didn't belong. He had to be especially careful now. Word was that Hector had a hefty contract out on him, so hefty that Tony was calling him the "$250,000 man".
He saw her come in. She walked towards the back of the restaurant with that confident, graceful way of hers, looking for him from face to face. He stood to greet her, coming out of the safety of the corner, feeling nervous and stiff and awkward. She was blonder than he remembered, and other heads turned as she moved towards him, still not seeing. Then she locked on him, and a smile lit up her entire face. She was close enough so he could see her eyes, and they were bright, happy...happy just to see him?
She quickly moved into his arms and hugged him tightly. He held her to him and, closing his eyes for once, he buried his face in her hair. Her perfume was the same, holding her felt the same, and yet everything was different. He was so different; it was a different world. Everything was the same, and yet nothing was the same. He wondered, for a split second, how could that be? Yet he remembered her, not just with his mind but also with all his senses. It was truly Kate. Here was this person that, for so long, had only existed in his memory. Now she'd come back to life.
He kissed her cheek and pulled away so he could see her face. She was still smiling but the tears were ready to spill out of her eyes.
"Kate"
"I'm fine, it's just...I'm just glad to see you, that's all..."
"Come sit" He handed her his handkerchief. Miracle of miracles, he had one, unused.
To give her some time he asked what she wanted and, when the waitress came over, seeing her nametag said "Mercedes", he slipped easily into Spanish and ordered for her and got himself another Corona.
"When did you get back?" Kate asked. "Or should I ask you that? Why don't you just tell me what you can."
"No, its ok, the operation is over. Did you see anything on the news about the arrest of a drug dealer, a guy by the name of Ramon Salazar, a little over two weeks ago?"
"There was a lot in the papers about it. I think he was from Columbia, or Mexico? I read a couple of the stories. He sounded awful, ruthless." She looked surprised. "Was that you, Jack?"
"Yes, and you're right. He was absolutely ruthless."
"But why would you be making a drug arrest? I thought..."
"It was a joint operation with DEA. We wanted information on his ties to terrorists. DEA wanted to get him for his drug operations, which are enormous. The drug dealers and the terrorists work together all the time, they have constant contacts with each other."
"So did you find out what you needed to know?"
Jack took a long drink from his beer. "We're still questioning him. He's a tough nut to crack," he answered mildly. "We'll get there."
Kate looked away. She had seen Jack "question" people. One of them...
"Its not like that this time, Kate" he said quietly. "I don't have to be like I was then. Its not like we only have a couple of minutes or a million people are going to die. He's got a lawyer with him, at least most of the time. That's part of the problem. I can't touch him." After a pause, his voice hardened. "Wouldn't work with Ramon anyway. He'd enjoy showing me he could take as much as I could dish out." As much as he had dished out on me, Jack thought to himself.
He shifted in his chair and changed the subject. "How about you? he asked. "How have you been?"
Kate smiled at him. "I'm good, Jack. Busy, but good. I've been doing a lot of traveling lately, for work. We had a major acquisition, of a British company, last month. They make something exciting called "industrial solvents". We closed the deal about a month ago, so now I won't be traveling so much, until the next time. And I've been teaching International Law at UCLA. I really like working with the students. I'd like to do more teaching, I think. And then I was named to the Board of the museum. So it's been busy, as I said. How's Kim? I haven't spoken to her in weeks".
Listening to him answer gave her the chance to really see him. He was much thinner, as if he'd been sick recently, maybe fifteen pounds lighter, and it showed on his spare frame. He had a deep tan; he must have spent long hours outdoors. And he looked his age now, the last of any boyish softness gone. More lines: mature, serious. There was also something different about his eyes that she couldn't put a name to. He was quietly proud of his daughter but amused, too, at the growing up that had happened while he was away.
"I'm surprised you're not staying with her."
Jack looked at the fork he was fiddling with. "Dad's little girl has grown up. I had the feeling that my presence would, shall we say, cramp her style? So I got a place in one of those suite hotels. I'll stay there until I figure out what to do next. Most of my stuff seems to have taken up permanent residence in her basement, anyway."
And then the obvious, easy things to say were said, and there was an awkward silence. Kate noticed Jack's eyes flick restlessly about the restaurant: the front, then the back, the bar, the kitchen, and back again. He was on alert, looking or listening for something. Then in a moment he was back with her.
"Ramon Salazar has a brother, Hector," he said, knowing she'd noticed his distraction. "He wants to do a little payback at my expense. So you see" he gave her his wicked, sly smile "I'm still a dangerous guy to be around."
"I know. It still doesn't bother me."
He was quiet, and then asked, "How is your sister, Kate? Do you still get up to see her so often?"
Now it was her turn to pause and collect her thoughts.
Kate shrugged "Not so much since I lost my escort. And my travel schedule for work didn't help."
When they were together, after Marie was sentenced, Kate had wanted to see her every visiting day, about once a month. So Jack would take the day off and drive her to the Federal women's prison about four hours away. At first she argued that she was capable of going alone but he was persistent and ended up taking her, so she wouldn't have to be alone. Sometimes they drove up the night before and stayed overnight in a nearby town, having what Jack insisted on calling "motel sex" and eating in truck stops and diners. In the days before each trip she'd become increasingly tense and unhappy, snippy and dissatisfied with him and with everyone else around her. Jack's response was to become more patient with her. He would try to bribe her into a good mood with small treats (banana milkshakes from her favorite ice cream stand were particularly effective) or by giving her luxurious back rubs at the end of the day. When the overwhelming sadness and bewilderment of losing her sister was too much for her he would just hold her, telling her softly that he loved her and that everything would be all right. Sometimes she would fall asleep while he held her. Usually they would end up making love.
On visiting day Jack would walk in with her, his badge and his position doing wonders. Kate shamelessly took full advantage of not having to stand in the long lines, of sitting in a quiet, private room while she waited for Marie's turn in the visiting area, away from the harassed grandmothers and aunts bringing tired, cranky and confused children to see the mothers they hardly remembered. Then Jack would leave her and go address the mounds of paperwork he brought with him, or work at his laptop in the car until she was done.
It usually didn't take long. At first Marie would hardly speak to her and when she did talk she was full of accusations, scorn and anger, seething with hatred. She'd ask Kate if she was still with "that butcher" and asked how she liked sleeping with a paid assassin, a murderer, a man who had tortured her own sister. Kate would stay calm for as long as she could, trying not to hear the venom, trying to talk to Marie about their childhood, when they lived in London, their mother, anything else. When she couldn't take it any longer she would leave, Marie's threats about what would happen to the country "the next time", about what would happen to their father, about what was going to happen to Kate, would echo in her brain back through all the gates and out with her into the hot glare of the parking lot. She hated it but by then she'd be crying...at least the first few times she would cry...and Jack would be there to hold her again as she sobbed out her disappointment and hurt into his chest. He never said very much, but would just let her grieve. He knew something about the process himself. She'd usually fall asleep for a while on the way back to LA, the jazz CDs they'd brought playing quietly. And the next month they would do it all over again.
"You know" Kate said as they talked about all this "its strange but those were some of the best times, the best conversations, we ever had, in that car going back and forth to Marie."
"I know, I was thinking the same thing. Why do you think that was?"
"Maybe it was because you'd turn off your cell phone," she said dryly.
"Maybe it was the motel sex" he responded, laughing.
That was when she realized how tired he looked, and that what she'd seen in his eyes before was sadness, because when he laughed his whole face brightened and what she'd seen around his eyes went away.
He wasn't like she remembered him being, the way he usually was, when he came back from an assignment. She remembered him as quiet, yes, but also relieved; satisfied, in some way, content that he had accomplished something. There was always a pride in him, even when the mission itself was less than a full success. She didn't sense any of that now. Just weariness, except when they talked about the past. Occasionally his humor would surface with a dry remark, but then it would fade. There were things on his mind he wasn't talking about, that he didn't want to talk about. Well, that had certainly been true before. Jack had always had things on his mind he couldn't or wouldn't talk about. . But this was deeper and, she sensed, very personal.
Their food came. She noticed that after a few bites he basically pushed it around on his plate, but ordered himself another beer. Jack cleared his throat.
"Which of us" he finally said "is going to ask the other first?" He was arranging the French fries in neat rows amidst the ketchup, looking down at his creation. She smiled to herself at his embarrassment: he wanted to know, but he couldn't bring himself to ask her directly. Maybe he had something he needed to tell her, too.
"I have a friend in London" she began. "He's a stockbroker. His name is Richard. He's divorced. He has two daughters. The older one, Sophie, thinks she might want to go to college in the States, so they're all coming to visit me when her school term is over. I'll take them up to see Berkley and Stanford. And they also want to see the Grand Canyon and all the sights, so I'll be playing tour director" She hesitated, and then added "When we're together, its great, but we're taking it slowly. The divorce happened a while ago, but it was messy. And then there's this horrible distance. Phone calls just don't do it."
There was no reaction. Then he looked up at her and asked, "Do you love him, Kate?" Not looking away this time, just waiting quietly. But listening, listening.
"It could go that way. I admire and respect him. He's a good man, Jack"
"Now you're going to tell me I'd like him."
"I think" she said slowly "that given the rules of these things, neither of us owes the other an explanation, do we?"
"No, we don't. You certainly don't owe me one. But Kate" he looked away "Its just hard, you know? I mean, I know what I've been doing, and I know what's fair and I've been gone a long time...its just hard for me to think about you with someone else. Even after all this time. I've got absolutely no right to feel this way, but it bothers me."
Kate reached across the table and held his hand for a moment. "It's complicated, because we never got to the point of hating each other. You got us out of it before that happened." He squeezed her hand, and pulled away. "And what about you?" she asked him.
He shrugged. "There was someone. Her name is Claudia. She's still there. She's in a dangerous situation, a bad situation." He looked up at her. He looked her in the eye. "She lived with Hector but we...we got involved with each other too. I promised her I'd help her get away from him, from that whole way of life. She and her family. But things didn't go the way I planned. DEA got impatient, and I had to bring Ramon in before I could get things set up to take care of Claudia too. So I had to leave without explaining to her, and without her." He paused, adding; "She probably thinks I was just feeding her a line. God knows enough other people have done that to her."
"And how do you feel about her now?"
"I don't know," he said after a pause. "I told her I loved her, but I don't know how I feel now. Mostly I feel...like I let her down. She risked her life to be with me, Kate, just so we could be together when Hector..." he almost said "wasn't looking" but he stopped himself. "What I think now is that I've got to figure out a way to get her away from him, if that's still what she wants. And then...then we'll see. We never talked much about anything beyond that."
"Well, that sounds like you, at least." Jack looked up quickly at the sharpness in her voice.
Kate smiled at him, a little sadly. "I don't want to argue Jack. I don't want to start up on you again. But don't you understand this is difficult for me too? When did I make you feel like you were just some book I'd closed and put up on the shelf? I don't think you ever get really finished with someone you've loved. At least I don't. So yes, it bothers me too. It won't kill me, not now. But I'm not at the point yet where I can just be happy for you if you have someone. Not even after a year." Even as she spoke Kate searched her mind. He wanted to hear her say something here. What was the thing he needed her to tell him? Was he looking for her permission, or for her forgiveness, or did he just need to hear that he could do what needed to be done?
"I know you Jack Bauer," she said finally. "I know you can do anything you decide to do, anything you're determined to do. I know you want to do what you promised, and that you'll move heaven and earth, if necessary, to do it. If anybody can help her, you'll do it."
Jack sat back in his chair for a moment, and closed his eyes. In a little while, after he had collected himself, he said "Well, I wish I had the same confidence in my miraculous abilities as you do." But then he added quietly "Thank you, anyway for the vote of confidence."
They finished their coffee, some how comfortable with each other again, as if the air had cleared.
They decided to take a walk to a bookstore that was a few blocks away. He needed to replace his copy of Great Expectations, which had finally fallen apart in Columbia, or Mexico, or wherever he had been.
"I thought you'd have it memorized by now" she teased him.
"No, close but...remember that science fiction story, when the people in the underground have to memorize books because they've been banned? When I read that story I decided I wanted to be the guy who memorized Great Expectations because it was shorter than David Copperfield.
"David Copperfield was already taken, anyway."
"Touché. Come on, I'll walk you to your car."
They turned up the dark street. Since his hands were thrust deep into his pants pockets, she took his arm. The car was several blocks away and they walked in silence, both of them thinking but comfortable in the silence. He walked her around to the driver's side and, turning to her, Jack noticed a lock of her hair had come undone. He came closer to her, and reached up to tuck it back in place.
"Kate, I'm glad I called you. I almost didn't."
"Why?"
He hesitated for a moment, before answering. Why not try the truth, for a change?
"Because I was afraid that you wouldn't want to see me. Because I thought...I still think...that you'd be better off if you didn't see me again, ever. But I needed to see you because..."
He never finished the sentence. Without thinking it through ahead of time, without thinking much at all, he pulled her to him and kissed her. A long, deep kiss, which, after a moment of just accepting, she returned, her eyes closed. "This is Jack," her mind said. "He's here, he's in there somewhere, it's him." They paused for a moment, but then he was back, cupping her face with his hands, holding her, trying to show her, trying to tell her, trying to make her understand what he felt. Because if she understood it maybe he could, too.
And then, just as abruptly, he pulled away from her. She opened her eyes. He was leaning against the car door, facing it, his head resting on his folded arms.
"Jack, what's wrong?" she asked, alarmed.
"I'm sorry Kate. I didn't mean to do that. I don't have any business doing that."
"Jack, look at me. Look at me." When he turned, she smiled, gently brushing the hair out of his eyes. "Do I look angry?"
"I just told you in there..."
"You told me there's someone who's important to you that you're worried about. I told you there's someone who's important to me, too. It's all right, Jack. We're not horrible people because of that. Just leave it at that for now. And try not to think so much. You don't have to figure everything out right now, ok?"
"No, I guess I don't".
After a moment she asked him something that had been puzzling her. "Is this about us, or is this about where you've been?"
He thought for a moment. "I think its all mixed up together for me. So much of what happened with us – of what I did – "
"No, we both agreed, Jack".
"No, Kate" he said firmly, "what I did to us, because it was me...was also part of that. I had to make it be over with us. Or else I couldn't have gone. And there were things I had to do there that couldn't have any connection with you."
"This time, that much more than any other time you were away?"
"Yes."
He stood up straight and pushed his hands back down in his pockets.
"Can I call you again?"
"Yes, Jack, I'd like that." He opened the car door for her. She climbed in, started it and rolled down the window.
"I'm glad you called. It was great to see you again. But please, I can't call you. It has to come from you."
"I understand"
"And you won't wait two weeks to do it?"
He smiled at her "Not a chance." But then he was serious.
"Kate, when you get home tonight, put the car right into the garage. Don't leave it parked in the driveway. And close the garage door before you get out of the car. Be sure you put the security system on too, both the one in the car and the one for the house."
"I will. Don't worry. I know what you're saying. But I want you to promise me something, too."
"If I can."
"Promise me you'll go home and get some sleep. You look exhausted, Jack, like you haven't slept in days."
"That bad, huh?"
"Yes, that bad. Don't turn on ESPN to get the sports scores, don't start channel surfing, don't have another beer, just go home and get some sleep."
He looked off to his left for a moment and then turned back to her.
"I just have to make one stop, pick up some shaving cream, but I promise, then I'll go home."
His reward was her smile again.
"Good. Bye, Jack"
"Bye, Kate".
He stepped back, watched her pull away, and headed back to his car.
Kate put the receiver down and turned her chair so that she could look out the window. She'd known he wasn't dead. She would have heard if he had been killed. But almost a year of silence: after the first few months it was as if he were dead. Her life was busy. She made it busier, and after a while she missed him less and less as the huge space he had occupied in her life got smaller and smaller. She put it aside and kept going and gradually became open to the possibility that maybe someone else could be to her what Jack used to be.
What was uncanny was that she really had been thinking about him, one of those unbidden memories of him that strangely surfaced every now and then had popped into her mind. They'd been at a ballgame and he'd taken the corner of a napkin and dipped it in his beer and protectively wiped the mustard off her cheek. Smiling at her he'd said "I can't have my Kate covered I condiments". She'd laughed, saying "No, but I can smell like a brewery", and he had kissed her forehead and put his arm around her and she'd rested her head on his shoulder. It was just warm enough, sitting in the sun, and she'd volunteered to score the rest of the game in his program. That way he wouldn't have to move that arm and she could stay there, close to him, and feel his heartbeat and smell his "Jack" smell. Plus, she could still watch the game.
"Please God" she said silently to herself, "Please let him be ok. Just let him be ok."
She decided to tell her father that she had plans to "see a friend". And then she'd check her make-up and brush her hair and pull herself together.
He got to the restaurant first and took a table towards the back, away from the long bar in front and the TVs. No conscious thought. He just automatically selected the table where his back would be up against a brick wall and he had a good view of who was coming and going, and of the doorway to the kitchen. It was second nature, at this point; closer to an instinct. He was more alert than ever these days, just noticing things other people would never see, his eyes regularly surveying his surroundings, listening for a sound that didn't belong. He had to be especially careful now. Word was that Hector had a hefty contract out on him, so hefty that Tony was calling him the "$250,000 man".
He saw her come in. She walked towards the back of the restaurant with that confident, graceful way of hers, looking for him from face to face. He stood to greet her, coming out of the safety of the corner, feeling nervous and stiff and awkward. She was blonder than he remembered, and other heads turned as she moved towards him, still not seeing. Then she locked on him, and a smile lit up her entire face. She was close enough so he could see her eyes, and they were bright, happy...happy just to see him?
She quickly moved into his arms and hugged him tightly. He held her to him and, closing his eyes for once, he buried his face in her hair. Her perfume was the same, holding her felt the same, and yet everything was different. He was so different; it was a different world. Everything was the same, and yet nothing was the same. He wondered, for a split second, how could that be? Yet he remembered her, not just with his mind but also with all his senses. It was truly Kate. Here was this person that, for so long, had only existed in his memory. Now she'd come back to life.
He kissed her cheek and pulled away so he could see her face. She was still smiling but the tears were ready to spill out of her eyes.
"Kate"
"I'm fine, it's just...I'm just glad to see you, that's all..."
"Come sit" He handed her his handkerchief. Miracle of miracles, he had one, unused.
To give her some time he asked what she wanted and, when the waitress came over, seeing her nametag said "Mercedes", he slipped easily into Spanish and ordered for her and got himself another Corona.
"When did you get back?" Kate asked. "Or should I ask you that? Why don't you just tell me what you can."
"No, its ok, the operation is over. Did you see anything on the news about the arrest of a drug dealer, a guy by the name of Ramon Salazar, a little over two weeks ago?"
"There was a lot in the papers about it. I think he was from Columbia, or Mexico? I read a couple of the stories. He sounded awful, ruthless." She looked surprised. "Was that you, Jack?"
"Yes, and you're right. He was absolutely ruthless."
"But why would you be making a drug arrest? I thought..."
"It was a joint operation with DEA. We wanted information on his ties to terrorists. DEA wanted to get him for his drug operations, which are enormous. The drug dealers and the terrorists work together all the time, they have constant contacts with each other."
"So did you find out what you needed to know?"
Jack took a long drink from his beer. "We're still questioning him. He's a tough nut to crack," he answered mildly. "We'll get there."
Kate looked away. She had seen Jack "question" people. One of them...
"Its not like that this time, Kate" he said quietly. "I don't have to be like I was then. Its not like we only have a couple of minutes or a million people are going to die. He's got a lawyer with him, at least most of the time. That's part of the problem. I can't touch him." After a pause, his voice hardened. "Wouldn't work with Ramon anyway. He'd enjoy showing me he could take as much as I could dish out." As much as he had dished out on me, Jack thought to himself.
He shifted in his chair and changed the subject. "How about you? he asked. "How have you been?"
Kate smiled at him. "I'm good, Jack. Busy, but good. I've been doing a lot of traveling lately, for work. We had a major acquisition, of a British company, last month. They make something exciting called "industrial solvents". We closed the deal about a month ago, so now I won't be traveling so much, until the next time. And I've been teaching International Law at UCLA. I really like working with the students. I'd like to do more teaching, I think. And then I was named to the Board of the museum. So it's been busy, as I said. How's Kim? I haven't spoken to her in weeks".
Listening to him answer gave her the chance to really see him. He was much thinner, as if he'd been sick recently, maybe fifteen pounds lighter, and it showed on his spare frame. He had a deep tan; he must have spent long hours outdoors. And he looked his age now, the last of any boyish softness gone. More lines: mature, serious. There was also something different about his eyes that she couldn't put a name to. He was quietly proud of his daughter but amused, too, at the growing up that had happened while he was away.
"I'm surprised you're not staying with her."
Jack looked at the fork he was fiddling with. "Dad's little girl has grown up. I had the feeling that my presence would, shall we say, cramp her style? So I got a place in one of those suite hotels. I'll stay there until I figure out what to do next. Most of my stuff seems to have taken up permanent residence in her basement, anyway."
And then the obvious, easy things to say were said, and there was an awkward silence. Kate noticed Jack's eyes flick restlessly about the restaurant: the front, then the back, the bar, the kitchen, and back again. He was on alert, looking or listening for something. Then in a moment he was back with her.
"Ramon Salazar has a brother, Hector," he said, knowing she'd noticed his distraction. "He wants to do a little payback at my expense. So you see" he gave her his wicked, sly smile "I'm still a dangerous guy to be around."
"I know. It still doesn't bother me."
He was quiet, and then asked, "How is your sister, Kate? Do you still get up to see her so often?"
Now it was her turn to pause and collect her thoughts.
Kate shrugged "Not so much since I lost my escort. And my travel schedule for work didn't help."
When they were together, after Marie was sentenced, Kate had wanted to see her every visiting day, about once a month. So Jack would take the day off and drive her to the Federal women's prison about four hours away. At first she argued that she was capable of going alone but he was persistent and ended up taking her, so she wouldn't have to be alone. Sometimes they drove up the night before and stayed overnight in a nearby town, having what Jack insisted on calling "motel sex" and eating in truck stops and diners. In the days before each trip she'd become increasingly tense and unhappy, snippy and dissatisfied with him and with everyone else around her. Jack's response was to become more patient with her. He would try to bribe her into a good mood with small treats (banana milkshakes from her favorite ice cream stand were particularly effective) or by giving her luxurious back rubs at the end of the day. When the overwhelming sadness and bewilderment of losing her sister was too much for her he would just hold her, telling her softly that he loved her and that everything would be all right. Sometimes she would fall asleep while he held her. Usually they would end up making love.
On visiting day Jack would walk in with her, his badge and his position doing wonders. Kate shamelessly took full advantage of not having to stand in the long lines, of sitting in a quiet, private room while she waited for Marie's turn in the visiting area, away from the harassed grandmothers and aunts bringing tired, cranky and confused children to see the mothers they hardly remembered. Then Jack would leave her and go address the mounds of paperwork he brought with him, or work at his laptop in the car until she was done.
It usually didn't take long. At first Marie would hardly speak to her and when she did talk she was full of accusations, scorn and anger, seething with hatred. She'd ask Kate if she was still with "that butcher" and asked how she liked sleeping with a paid assassin, a murderer, a man who had tortured her own sister. Kate would stay calm for as long as she could, trying not to hear the venom, trying to talk to Marie about their childhood, when they lived in London, their mother, anything else. When she couldn't take it any longer she would leave, Marie's threats about what would happen to the country "the next time", about what would happen to their father, about what was going to happen to Kate, would echo in her brain back through all the gates and out with her into the hot glare of the parking lot. She hated it but by then she'd be crying...at least the first few times she would cry...and Jack would be there to hold her again as she sobbed out her disappointment and hurt into his chest. He never said very much, but would just let her grieve. He knew something about the process himself. She'd usually fall asleep for a while on the way back to LA, the jazz CDs they'd brought playing quietly. And the next month they would do it all over again.
"You know" Kate said as they talked about all this "its strange but those were some of the best times, the best conversations, we ever had, in that car going back and forth to Marie."
"I know, I was thinking the same thing. Why do you think that was?"
"Maybe it was because you'd turn off your cell phone," she said dryly.
"Maybe it was the motel sex" he responded, laughing.
That was when she realized how tired he looked, and that what she'd seen in his eyes before was sadness, because when he laughed his whole face brightened and what she'd seen around his eyes went away.
He wasn't like she remembered him being, the way he usually was, when he came back from an assignment. She remembered him as quiet, yes, but also relieved; satisfied, in some way, content that he had accomplished something. There was always a pride in him, even when the mission itself was less than a full success. She didn't sense any of that now. Just weariness, except when they talked about the past. Occasionally his humor would surface with a dry remark, but then it would fade. There were things on his mind he wasn't talking about, that he didn't want to talk about. Well, that had certainly been true before. Jack had always had things on his mind he couldn't or wouldn't talk about. . But this was deeper and, she sensed, very personal.
Their food came. She noticed that after a few bites he basically pushed it around on his plate, but ordered himself another beer. Jack cleared his throat.
"Which of us" he finally said "is going to ask the other first?" He was arranging the French fries in neat rows amidst the ketchup, looking down at his creation. She smiled to herself at his embarrassment: he wanted to know, but he couldn't bring himself to ask her directly. Maybe he had something he needed to tell her, too.
"I have a friend in London" she began. "He's a stockbroker. His name is Richard. He's divorced. He has two daughters. The older one, Sophie, thinks she might want to go to college in the States, so they're all coming to visit me when her school term is over. I'll take them up to see Berkley and Stanford. And they also want to see the Grand Canyon and all the sights, so I'll be playing tour director" She hesitated, and then added "When we're together, its great, but we're taking it slowly. The divorce happened a while ago, but it was messy. And then there's this horrible distance. Phone calls just don't do it."
There was no reaction. Then he looked up at her and asked, "Do you love him, Kate?" Not looking away this time, just waiting quietly. But listening, listening.
"It could go that way. I admire and respect him. He's a good man, Jack"
"Now you're going to tell me I'd like him."
"I think" she said slowly "that given the rules of these things, neither of us owes the other an explanation, do we?"
"No, we don't. You certainly don't owe me one. But Kate" he looked away "Its just hard, you know? I mean, I know what I've been doing, and I know what's fair and I've been gone a long time...its just hard for me to think about you with someone else. Even after all this time. I've got absolutely no right to feel this way, but it bothers me."
Kate reached across the table and held his hand for a moment. "It's complicated, because we never got to the point of hating each other. You got us out of it before that happened." He squeezed her hand, and pulled away. "And what about you?" she asked him.
He shrugged. "There was someone. Her name is Claudia. She's still there. She's in a dangerous situation, a bad situation." He looked up at her. He looked her in the eye. "She lived with Hector but we...we got involved with each other too. I promised her I'd help her get away from him, from that whole way of life. She and her family. But things didn't go the way I planned. DEA got impatient, and I had to bring Ramon in before I could get things set up to take care of Claudia too. So I had to leave without explaining to her, and without her." He paused, adding; "She probably thinks I was just feeding her a line. God knows enough other people have done that to her."
"And how do you feel about her now?"
"I don't know," he said after a pause. "I told her I loved her, but I don't know how I feel now. Mostly I feel...like I let her down. She risked her life to be with me, Kate, just so we could be together when Hector..." he almost said "wasn't looking" but he stopped himself. "What I think now is that I've got to figure out a way to get her away from him, if that's still what she wants. And then...then we'll see. We never talked much about anything beyond that."
"Well, that sounds like you, at least." Jack looked up quickly at the sharpness in her voice.
Kate smiled at him, a little sadly. "I don't want to argue Jack. I don't want to start up on you again. But don't you understand this is difficult for me too? When did I make you feel like you were just some book I'd closed and put up on the shelf? I don't think you ever get really finished with someone you've loved. At least I don't. So yes, it bothers me too. It won't kill me, not now. But I'm not at the point yet where I can just be happy for you if you have someone. Not even after a year." Even as she spoke Kate searched her mind. He wanted to hear her say something here. What was the thing he needed her to tell him? Was he looking for her permission, or for her forgiveness, or did he just need to hear that he could do what needed to be done?
"I know you Jack Bauer," she said finally. "I know you can do anything you decide to do, anything you're determined to do. I know you want to do what you promised, and that you'll move heaven and earth, if necessary, to do it. If anybody can help her, you'll do it."
Jack sat back in his chair for a moment, and closed his eyes. In a little while, after he had collected himself, he said "Well, I wish I had the same confidence in my miraculous abilities as you do." But then he added quietly "Thank you, anyway for the vote of confidence."
They finished their coffee, some how comfortable with each other again, as if the air had cleared.
They decided to take a walk to a bookstore that was a few blocks away. He needed to replace his copy of Great Expectations, which had finally fallen apart in Columbia, or Mexico, or wherever he had been.
"I thought you'd have it memorized by now" she teased him.
"No, close but...remember that science fiction story, when the people in the underground have to memorize books because they've been banned? When I read that story I decided I wanted to be the guy who memorized Great Expectations because it was shorter than David Copperfield.
"David Copperfield was already taken, anyway."
"Touché. Come on, I'll walk you to your car."
They turned up the dark street. Since his hands were thrust deep into his pants pockets, she took his arm. The car was several blocks away and they walked in silence, both of them thinking but comfortable in the silence. He walked her around to the driver's side and, turning to her, Jack noticed a lock of her hair had come undone. He came closer to her, and reached up to tuck it back in place.
"Kate, I'm glad I called you. I almost didn't."
"Why?"
He hesitated for a moment, before answering. Why not try the truth, for a change?
"Because I was afraid that you wouldn't want to see me. Because I thought...I still think...that you'd be better off if you didn't see me again, ever. But I needed to see you because..."
He never finished the sentence. Without thinking it through ahead of time, without thinking much at all, he pulled her to him and kissed her. A long, deep kiss, which, after a moment of just accepting, she returned, her eyes closed. "This is Jack," her mind said. "He's here, he's in there somewhere, it's him." They paused for a moment, but then he was back, cupping her face with his hands, holding her, trying to show her, trying to tell her, trying to make her understand what he felt. Because if she understood it maybe he could, too.
And then, just as abruptly, he pulled away from her. She opened her eyes. He was leaning against the car door, facing it, his head resting on his folded arms.
"Jack, what's wrong?" she asked, alarmed.
"I'm sorry Kate. I didn't mean to do that. I don't have any business doing that."
"Jack, look at me. Look at me." When he turned, she smiled, gently brushing the hair out of his eyes. "Do I look angry?"
"I just told you in there..."
"You told me there's someone who's important to you that you're worried about. I told you there's someone who's important to me, too. It's all right, Jack. We're not horrible people because of that. Just leave it at that for now. And try not to think so much. You don't have to figure everything out right now, ok?"
"No, I guess I don't".
After a moment she asked him something that had been puzzling her. "Is this about us, or is this about where you've been?"
He thought for a moment. "I think its all mixed up together for me. So much of what happened with us – of what I did – "
"No, we both agreed, Jack".
"No, Kate" he said firmly, "what I did to us, because it was me...was also part of that. I had to make it be over with us. Or else I couldn't have gone. And there were things I had to do there that couldn't have any connection with you."
"This time, that much more than any other time you were away?"
"Yes."
He stood up straight and pushed his hands back down in his pockets.
"Can I call you again?"
"Yes, Jack, I'd like that." He opened the car door for her. She climbed in, started it and rolled down the window.
"I'm glad you called. It was great to see you again. But please, I can't call you. It has to come from you."
"I understand"
"And you won't wait two weeks to do it?"
He smiled at her "Not a chance." But then he was serious.
"Kate, when you get home tonight, put the car right into the garage. Don't leave it parked in the driveway. And close the garage door before you get out of the car. Be sure you put the security system on too, both the one in the car and the one for the house."
"I will. Don't worry. I know what you're saying. But I want you to promise me something, too."
"If I can."
"Promise me you'll go home and get some sleep. You look exhausted, Jack, like you haven't slept in days."
"That bad, huh?"
"Yes, that bad. Don't turn on ESPN to get the sports scores, don't start channel surfing, don't have another beer, just go home and get some sleep."
He looked off to his left for a moment and then turned back to her.
"I just have to make one stop, pick up some shaving cream, but I promise, then I'll go home."
His reward was her smile again.
"Good. Bye, Jack"
"Bye, Kate".
He stepped back, watched her pull away, and headed back to his car.