Jack is unwrapping the bandages and gauze on Renee's midsection as she dozes, relaxed for the moment. She feels his fingers work deftly at gently prying off the gauze that had dried to her skin, and she feels him give her a shot of painkiller just beneath her chest. He probes her bullet wound, and says in relief, "I think it's finally starting to repair itself."
"Mmmm," she answers, eyes closed and drowsy. It has been six months since the sniper attack, and Jack has always been the one taking care of her. The president was kind enough to offer the fullest and sure security she had: the White House. For five months, they have been staying at the White House, in one of the spare rooms. There are windows, but it is bullet proof, knife proof, missile proof--to Jack's intense relief.
He gently begins to lay the new, alcohol soaked gauze on her stomach and chest. She feels a twinge of pain, but the shots he gave her reduces it greatly. Then, Jack's phone rings.
"Kim!" he exclaims in surprise, and answers quickly. Jack is, for the time being, keeping Kim in the dark as to why he never came to Los Angeles. Because he is working on Renee's wound, he puts the phone on speaker and places it on Renee's stomach, so he doesn't have to talk too loud.
"Dad," Renee hears her say. "This is the last straw. I want to know why you've been keeping secrets from me for 6 months now."
Jack glances at Renee, who is slowly drifting off to sleep. He decides that he's going to be honest with her--the reason he never told her about Renee was that he feared her reaction.
"Kim," he says. "I'll be out there soon. In the next month. You have to trust me."
"Dad, I do. I do trust you. I just want to be in the loop."
Jack stops working on Renee, and switches the phone back from speaker phone. He leans his head against his shoulder to keep the phone where it is, and then resumes bandaging Renee's midsection tightly.
"Remember that agent, Renee Walker? The red head?" He says softly. But his earpiece is so loud, Renee can hear Kim's answer anyways.
"You mean that hardcore redheaded FBI chick that, oh, I don't know, saved your life? Sure I do." Kim answers sarcastically.
Renee hears this and laughs loudly--Jack clamps a hand over her mouth with an embarrassed expression. She kisses and nibbles at his palm.
"That's the one," he answers back, glaring at her playfully. "What would you say if I told you she's coming to Los Angeles with me?"
Renee stops kissing him, so she could hear Kim's reply. She hesitates, then says smartly, "I would tell you good, because it seems she's the only one that cared enough about you to contact me before you freaking died from a what, deadly and rare virus that only I could save you from?" Renee laughs even harder, and this time, it's from her throat--so Jack can't stop her. But he tries by pressing a hand lightly on her throat, warning her. She stifles her laugh.
"Why, is she there?" Kim inquires innocently.
Renee bites hard on Jack's palm, and he withdraws his hand with an "ouch!" and she says loudly, "Hello Kim."
"Dad!" Kim says in exasperation, and Jack puts her back on speaker phone since they were all back on the same page. He resumes laying the gauze just beneath Renee's breast with a roll of his eyes.
"I'm here," Renee says out loud, knowing Kim will hear her. "'Hardcore redheaded FBI chick'? I'm flattered."
Kim pauses before answering--then says, "I suppose I should say hello. But I do feel obligated to warn you that my father isn't going to let you out of his sight."
Jack leers at her playfully. "So I've learned," Renee tells her. "It's cute."
"So, when will you be out here? A month? Two months?" Jack rips medical tape with his teeth, and tapes the bandages and gauze in place. She mouths a thank you to him before answering, "Whenever I've recovered from being shot."
"Shot?" Kim asks in alarm. In the background, they hear a little girl's voice. "Nevermind, I don't want to know. I have to go. Bye Dad. Bye, Agent Walker--Renee--?" She hangs up before they could answer.
Renee props herself up on her elbows, tentatively testing her torso. She can move with less pain now, but even so--Jack makes her lie back down by placing a hand and arm on either side of her, forming prison bars as he leans down over her. She backs down, settling back down on the bed, knowing that by listening to his nonverbal orders, she'll get what she wants--
His lips meet hers in a gentle caress, sucking softly on her lower lip. She breaks it by turning her head to the side, and he trails open-mouthed kisses along her jaw line to her earlobe, when he then moves to her throat. She stretches her neck out, feeling refreshed.
He stops, and his lips come down on her eyelids--he gives each one a chaste kiss, then orders her, "You need to rest."
She keeps her eyes closed, and dozes off to sleep--which she has so been looking forward to for quite a long time.
The White House physician checks in on her, Jack hovering protectively nearby. He peels off the tape and undos the bandages with deft fingers, and whistles when he sees the wound.
"You've healed remarkably," he remarks, skimming his fingers over the regenerated skin. "Can you sit up for me?"
She uses her arms to push herself up, which hurts--but not as much as she expected. "Good," he comments. "Twist around like you're trying to crack your back."
She does so, but can only get half way before the agony gets too much. "Hmm. Well, your major blood vessels seem to have repaired, so I'm going to take you off of bed rest for now. But I don't want you running or anything too physical," he emphasizes, looking up at Jack, who shrugs innocently. This causes Renee to laugh softly again--and Jack is so grateful each moment for her laughs. He treasures them--a sign that normalcy is finally returning to her.
"So take it easy," the physician continues. "Take some walks around the White House, the gardens. Visit the National Mall. But that's all for now. In another two weeks you should be good enough to do some more rigorous activity."
"Alright," she answers, mind drifting off--looking forward to the future that she and Jack are going to enjoy, in Los Angeles...with Kim and her granddaughter and husband. And maybe--just maybe--she can feel like she has a real family.
Jack escorts the physician out of their suite, and asks Renee: "How about that walk?"
They are walking down the halls of the White House, casually holding hands. Secret Service nods them out as they exit, and Jack guides Renee to one of the private, fenced in gardens. He doesn't like the paparazzi and press that wait outside the gate, and he won't risk some idiot who might actually be holding a gun. So he leads her into the East Garden.
They stride, hand in hand, across a dirt-path lined by newly sprung-up tulips. Gypsy moths are flying from flower to flower, and Renee spots a Monarch butterfly nearby. It seems so serene, so picturesque.
"So this is where taxpayer money goes to?" Renee muses, fascinated. Jack glances at her eyes, and notices that she's looking at a small, bright yellow and black bird perched on a sunflower, wrenching seeds out of the middle of the flower with all of its might.
"Goldfinch," she tells him. "We had that at my house growing up."
Finally, Jack has a little insight to her life before the FBI. She always kept that from him--kept it well hidden from him. Jack watches the bejeweled little bird as it struggles to free sunflower seeds. It notices them, tilts its head, then launches like a golden bullet into the air, twittering a song. Renee's head twists in an arc to follow the small creature over the White House.
Jack knows one thing about her life prior to when he first met her: She watched those little yellow birds when she grew up.
She walks onward, hearing her knee crack as she straightens it out for the first time in a long while: she hasn't walked for a long time because the doctor had her on bed rest to allow her blood vessels to repair. She hears Jack coming up quickly behind her, but before she can turn around, his hands come under her arms and around her waist. She laughs as he kisses her neck, and puts her palms on his hands--which are lightly on her stomach, being very careful not to touch her wound. She wishes life could stay this way forever.
Her. Jack. Someplace safe, someplace with security.
A gunshot rings out, and Renee crumples to the ground.
Jack covers Renee, protectively holding her against him as he forms a human shield. But then he realizes she is saying something:
"Jack. I'm fine," She says. "It was reflex. It wasn't aimed at us. I'm fine."
He doesn't answer, and instead, skims his fingers over every inch of her body. "Jack," she finally hisses furiously. "I'm fine! You need to figure out what just happened!"
When she finally has Jack calmed down, and after he's searched every centimeter of her body--not that she minds his thoroughness--she lets him carry her back to the White House, where Secret Service has tightened security. They frisk the two of them--even though both of the agents at the East entrance known that they wouldn't hurt the president--before telling them, "Some crazy was out there. Opened fire on the Oval Office. We got him though before he could fire more than three shots, POTUS is fine."
Jack glares at the agent who is frisking Renee at the moment when he touches her ribs and stomach, and he hastily takes his hands away. "Sorry, ma'am," he says quickly. "I forgot."
"It's fine," she replies stiffly. Jack takes her forearm and whisks her away from the entrance. She thinks his jealous protectiveness is adorable, and she doesn't mind having Jack Bauer as her keeper. He can have her for as long as he wants. She'll gladly follow his lead, his orders.
As they step out of the elevator, she trips and Jack catches her, helping her back to her feet. "Careful," he murmurs, his hand lingering on her waist. He begins to withdraw it, but she places her hand over his and pulls him back to her. He doesn't protest as she guides him back to their suite, passing several U.S.S.S. agents who look very stressed and tense: probably due to the attempted shooting. That doesn't surprise Renee.
Jack closes the door behind them, and Renee spins around, pushing him against the door, her hands on his chest. He takes her wrists and bows his head to touch her forehead. She says softly, "You have no idea how much I want you."
"Mmm...you have me."
They breathe evenly, in, out, in, out--and Renee thinks, for once, everything is perfect.
He laughs softly and bows his head to meet her lips in a gentle kiss. He bends down slightly and she jumps into his arms, much like their first kiss together. But this is not as passionate, as Renee knows that she still needs to watch herself. She leaves his mouth to kiss and graze his neck with her teeth.
And Renee knows, for once, everything is perfect.
After much kissing--nothing else, as Jack and Renee both know how fragile Renee is right now--Renee finally collapses on Jack's chest. He holds her close, pressing his cheek against hers, before telling her, "We need to eat."
"Mmm," she leans in to his shoulder and nuzzles him. He rolls over, gently setting her down on her back before unwinding his body from hers. She reluctantly lets go of him, and he throws her blouse at her. It's then that she realizes she lost her shirt at some point in the last hour. She shrugs it back on, Jack helping to arrange it on her shoulders. He buttons her blouse for her as she lies back down, tired, hungry, and peaceful.
"Le-et's go," Jack says, drawling the word "Let's". She looks at him in protest, and he says sternly, "That's an order."
"We all know what happened the last time I obeyed your order, sir," she replies.
Jack laughs softly and scoops her up from the comforters, careful not to bend her stomach or chest. He spins around with her once before he sets her down.
These are the moments they both cherish.
They are at a nice Italian restaurant near the National Mall. Jack wanted her to wear a bulletproof jacket--but she talked him out of it. He finally consented before they began the short walk to Leonardi's.
She orders a veal cutlet simmered in marsala wine, and he orders the same thing.
Jack notes the way her eyes were still very wary in public. She kept her eye on everything: the waitress, the couple sitting next to them, the family that just entered the restaurant--but he doesn't blame her. He is still jumpy like her.
"Renee," he finally says. She lowers her glass to the table and meets his eyes carefully, cautiously.
"I...I don't know how to say this," he says softly. She leans in to hear him, and he glances away from her.
"What is it?" she asks, her mind jumping to the worst possible conclusions. He doesn't want me to come back to LA with him, he doesn't want me intruding on his family, he doesn't want my dark presence...he doesn't want me.
"It's been...years. Years since I genuinely loved, years since I held a loved one. Years since I had true, legitimate, happiness and joy."
She stops her train wreck of thoughts, and her mind comes to a halt.
"You brought me my life back. The day we met...I never thought that we would end up here. I admired your strength and your confidence...and I never thought I'd feel the same way again. I never was looking for a relationship...but really, Renee, you understand me more than even Teri."
She is surprised at this--when she mentioned Teri at the hospital, Jack looked like he wanted to snap her neck. She didn't expect him to love her more than his first wife, Teri.
"So this is going to come as a surprise to you and me...but I would like to make things official," he says, and extracts a small box from his jacket pocket.
Her heart races. Faster than when she and Jack slept together for the first time.
Yet...she doesn't say anything. Jack watches her eyes apprehensively.
"This was Teri's...she told me if anything ever happened...she wanted me to continue. I'd like to follow her dying wish and my living one--but I replaced the topaz with emerald..."
"Renee Sophronia Walker. Will you marry me?"