Disclaimer: All recognizable The Bold Type characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners including, but not limited to Freeform. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this fan fiction story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No financial gain is associated with the publishing of this story. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Part of this was inspired by Melora Hardin's guest starring role on A Million Little Things. I wanted to apply the distress she put into that character to a Jacqueline scene. It was time Jacqueline be written as vulnerable and unsure. Jane is often the neurotic, over-thinking character and while those stories are fabulous, there is so much more to Hardin's character. Unrelated, but because it's driving me crazy, I kept referring to Steinem as Stafford in my first The Bold Type piece. How could I forget Steinem? I'm breaking this up into chapters, as my last piece might have been a little overwhelming in length. -dkc

To Get Me To You

Jacqueline Carlyle entered the bullpen like a tornado on an undetermined path. The lights were off, only Jane's desk lamp offering a low glow at her workstation. She watched her boss fly into her glass-walled office and angrily throw her purse at the couch. She had never seen Jacqueline unpolished much less undone.

Attempting to not stare and allowing Jacqueline the privacy she needed, Jane returned to her work. However, she wanted badly to help. It was soft crying that brought her to her feet.

"Jacqueline?" Jane had moved quickly to the office door and stood with it cracked, not quite comfortable intruding.

"It's not a good time," came a broken voice.

"I see that. Is there anything I can do?" Jane asked sincerely.

"No, thank you."

She couldn't let it go when she heard the sadness inherent those words. Closing the door behind her, she took several steps toward Jacqueline to place a gentle hand on her forearm. Jacqueline exhaled.

"Jane."

"What happened? Is it the board?" she moved to stand before the older woman. When she saw the mascara streaks and pain on that usually flawless face, she knew it was something far more personal than the board. "Oh."

"My husband filed for divorce," Jacqueline's voice cracked, containing an emotion not easily identified.

"Ian...he...why?" she was taken aback by the revelation. They had seemed happy. Appearances can be deceiving.

Steely blue eyes dropped. The powerful, confident Jacquelyn Carlyle was ashamed.

"An affair," Jane sighed at this. "For six years."

Jane was shocked.

"Oh, god, I am so sorry," Jane stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the woman who had come to mean so much to her.

Jacqueline was surprised by the warmth and comfort of those arms. She found her breathing even out, her intense anger melt away and her tears slow.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Of course," Jane let the hug linger long enough to express her sympathy, but not long enough to be awkward.

Wiping her tears away and attempting to pull herself together, the editor-in-chief was about to dawn the ever-present mask when she walked into the building.

"He's a fool."

Jane's unexpected words prevented the mask from falling into its place.

"You don't have to say that. Thank you, though," that bashful smile was beautiful even in distress.

"I wouldn't have if I didn't mean it."

Stepping to the couch, the brunette picked up the items that had fallen out when the purse had landed there. She held it out for Jacqueline and offered in one look support and friendship.

"You have my phone number if you need anything."

Jane left Jacqueline to gather her strength and to make her way out of the dark office in her own time. She hoped she would be okay.

To be continued