I decided to come back for a little bit and write a few one-shots. This has NOTHING to do with my other fic, Aftermath. It's just something that's been floating around my head for a while, and I just wanted to print it out. Basically all of these one-shots will feature Renee, and her discovery that Jack is alive and well...even though they might not feature Jack himself.
Background information: 2 days after events of day 7, Jack is well—and Renee did torture Alan Wilson. But because there was no conclusive evidence, and she had the President's side, she was not arrested. The Bureau kept the information very hushed up. Renee did not get anything from Alan Wilson, either, there were no leads.
As you can see from this, I love the book Tale of Two Cities. I don't own any of the references...that was worked up by the brilliant mind of Charles Dickens.
Renee operated on autopilot alone. Her mind was overwhelmed with the possibility that there was something more she could have done, something extra, something more painful to make Wilson speak. She was sure that if Jack had conducted the interrogation, he would have gotten the information; and yet, she didn't get anything. She herself conducted the raid on his manor and seized his computer, phones, and anything else they could use against him. She had Janis and Chloe work together—in which both of them viewed as punishment—to crack it, but the best of FBI and CTU could not get anything out of the ordinary from his files. Wilson was very careful to cover his tracks, and Renee was furious to discover that there was nothing that they could use against him. She told Janis that she wasn't working hard enough, that she wasn't hired to do nothing—when Chloe stood up to Agent Walker and told her off for her manners. Renee was about to accuse Chloe of insubordination, when she realized that Chloe, technically, didn't even work for her.
So either way, Renee had nothing—nothing—to connect any criminal activity to Wilson. Not even a speeding ticket.
When Jack entered the picture.
Renee had been in Larry's office—now her office—when the door opened. She had been searching through Larry's computer files to see if he had any information on Wilson, as he had a higher security level clearance compared to her. "Get out," she ordered, without bothering glancing up to see that her order was followed through.
The door closed, but the intruder remained at the door way, which infuriated her even more. Renee's personality had drastically changed since that fateful day; she was much more short-tempered, cynical, and just vengeful in general. "Get out."
"So sure about that?" came the intruder's voice. "If you'd rather I'd leave, Agent Walker." She froze. "I can arrange that," he continued.
"I—" She started "—am hearing things." She concluded. She honestly believed that she was hearing Jack's voice because she'd been thinking of him and Larry a few moments previously.
"Daggit, Renee! You trust me, but you don't trust yourself?" She heard footsteps, and mere milliseconds later a hand brushed her neck and throat, caressing her scar.
She turned the office chair around and stood up suddenly, so close to him, the space between them was nonexistent. She felt him, his neck, his face, his shoulders—it really was him, and Jack gazed at her patiently as she did so. Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, she cracked and cried tears of joy, pain, fury, and another emotion that she might identify as love.
She was made aware of his arm coming around her waist, and his free hand pressed against her head. He pressed his forehead against her crown patiently, holding her close, just as Larry had done four years ago when her mother was murdered.
She could live like this, she thought.
"Where do I begin," she finally asked, after getting her act together.
"How about saying, 'Jack, I'm sorry that I let Kim go back to you.'" he murmured against her hair softly. She knew what he was referring to: "I guess the best advice I can give you is…try to make choices you can live with."
He brought his hand from her head to her shoulder and neck, gently massaging her skin…he felt her tensed muscles loosen and relax. Something she hadn't done for a long time.
She whimpered slightly, then was ashamed that she'd put on a show of being so weak. She began to tense up, to push him away, she was too proud—but he murmured, "Agent Walker…It's just me," and she realized that it was just him—no one else would see Jack's intimate caresses of her neck and shoulders. There was no shame in Jack seeing her weaknesses. She relaxed and collapsed against him, putting her full weight on his frame.
He stumbled and she gasped as he hit the back of the wall opposite of them.
"Jack—I—"
"I'm not completely healed yet, Agent Walker," he rasped. "Macer said that it would be another 2 weeks until I regain my usual stamina and energy. Until then, you'll have to deal with a weak Jack."
"Stop it," she told him irritably. "Cut it with the 'Agent Walker' crap. Sit down," she added, and he followed suit with a soft, "Yes, Ma'am."
He took a chair across from Larry's—Renee's—desk and sat down in it. Renee walked around him until she was behind him, then she, too, began to rub his skin around his shoulders and neck. She applied pressure on a nerve running up his spine, and he winced then relaxed, going slack.
"Would you mind telling me why you're still alive," she murmured softly.
He didn't answer.
"Don't make me hurt you, Bauer," she said in mock threat.
"You—" he said and coughed. "You called and notified Kim. She returned to the hospital and recalled me to life."
Renee recognized the reference. A golden thread, Kim, and recalling to Life. "Tale of Two Cities?" She questioned. "I never knew you were into literature."
"'m not. Since high school, though, that phrase has always stuck with me. Anything can be recalled to life."
She thought about this, and unconsciously her hands started to drift towards his throat. Suddenly, his vice-like hands gripped hers tightly, and she winced. "What?"
"Oh—sorry," he explained softly, letting go of her hands and replacing them on his throat. "As a general rule, I usually don't allow just anyone near my throat."
She felt a glimmer of pride knowing that he trusted her.
Well, that's it for now...I'll be off to work on Aftermath now! I'll try my best to get something up soon. No promises. See, with one shots, they can be as long or as short as you like....one thing I love about them.