Disclaimers: I don't own them. And that's probably a good thing.
Author's Note: A note on timeline—as I said, I started this about two years ago, though I didn't do much writing on it till winter 2006. I've updated a lot to mesh with current continuity, but there were some things that didn't fit and I liked my version better than the actual one. So either this diverges with our continuity before the Jolie break up or there was a reunion of sorts shortly afterwards.
Also, I beg you to be patient with this one and let things play out before you start throwing tomatoes. You'll get the info you need eventually. And remember, no one in this fic knows as much as they think they do.
John McBain could hear faint sounds coming from inside the office; his target was in there. "Finally," he thought. These break-ins had been making his life miserable over the last couple weeks. It was hard dealing with cases involving large corporations under the best circumstances, but when the corporation was the 'family business' of the most powerful family in town, and when your boss just happened to be a member of said family… Well he hadn't been getting much sleep.
The door was open enough for him to slip through without touching it. He peered inside; there was someone at the safe. It was hard to make out the black clad figure in the dark, but it looked vaguely female. He crept closer, trying to move in silence, not wanting to reveal his presence till he was in striking range. He was almost within arms' reach when a floorboard under his feet creaked. The figure turned sharply and he saw two startlingly familiar eyes illuminated by the moonlight streaming in the window. He hadn't looked into them for five years, but they'd haunted his dreams most every night since then. No. It couldn't be.
"Natalie?" he said, almost dropping his gun in shock.
Before his brain could fully register what was going on he heard her mumble, "Shit!" and saw her shift her weight back onto one leg as the other one rose. Then he felt a screaming pain course through his jaw.
When he next opened his eyes he was flat on his back with a paramedic looking down at him. "He's awake," the man said as John tried to sit up.
"Don't try to get up," the paramedic said trying to push him back down.
"I'm fine," he said firmly, rubbing his jaw as he spoke. It hurt like hell but he was pretty sure it wasn't broken. Where the hell had she learned to do that? Looking around the room, he saw four uniformed officers, a couple of BE security guards and Clint Buchanan.
"What happened, Lieutenant?" one of the cops said coming closer.
"I found our burglar," he said, "opening the safe. Shouldn't have gone in without back-up, I guess… caught me off guard…" He wasn't sure which was muddling his thoughts more—the blow to his head or the shock of seeing Natalie again, where he'd least expected to see her.
"Did you get a good look at his face?" the cop asked.
"Her," he said, "It was a woman."
"A woman?" Clint asked stepping forward, "Did you recognize her?"
He looked up into Clint's face; how did he tell him that the person who had been raiding Buchanan Enterprises offices over the past several weeks was the daughter who had essentially dropped off the face of the earth five years earlier? He couldn't do it; as much as he knew it violated the standards of his job, he couldn't say anything until he knew more. "Didn't get a good look," he finally said, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he said.
"If it's any consolation we don't think she got what she was after," another one of the officers said, "you probably interrupted her and she had to take off before she was finished."
John forced his way up to his feet and helped the other cops finish up with the crime scene, not that he expected them to find anything. There hadn't been the slightest trace of evidence at the last three break-ins—something that made perfect sense now that he knew the perp had forensic training. And besides, Natalie had always been good at anything she set her mind to and he doubted this would be any different.
His head was still reeling and his jaw was still throbbing as he unlocked his door. Maybe it was the events of the evening and maybe it was just the absurd way their relationship had always played out, but he couldn't bring himself to be surprised when he walked in and found her sitting in his apartment.
Her hair was brown; that startled him a little bit. He hadn't noticed in the dark office and part of him was grateful for the change; if she didn't look like his Natalie it would be easier not to treat her as such. Unfortunately, the dark hair only made her eyes stand out more which was going to make them harder to resist. "You're home faster than I expected," she said with a smile.
"You changed your hair," he said, matching her blasé attitude, "what happened? Jones prefer brunettes?"
She gave him a look of confusion for a moment as though she had no idea why he would ask such a question before shrugging. "I wouldn't know. Red hair's too distinctive, makes it harder to blend in."
"Especially when you're breaking in to your family's offices."
Her sly look turned to one of concern, "How's the jaw?"
"Not broken," he said turning his back to her. He couldn't bring himself to kick her out, much less arrest her as he probably should, but he couldn't bear to look at her anymore.
"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to—you startled me."
He turned unable to stop himself from reacting to her last comment. "I startled you?" he asked, "I'm not the one who took off five years ago only to show up breaking into my own family's business. How did you get in here anyway?"
"Turns out Roxy still leaves the cabinet with the spare keys unlocked," she smiled.
"Better question," he said putting his hands on his hips, "why are you here?"
"Well I was in town, heard an old friend of mine had gotten beat up and I wanted to see how he was doing," she said nonchalantly.
Rubbing his jaw subconsciously he snapped, "Cut the crap, Natalie. Why are you here?"
"I need to know what you told them," she said soberly.
"Told who?" he asked.
"My uncle," she said, he could hear urgency rising in her voice, "What did you put in your report? Have you talked to my family about the break-ins? Did you tell them it was me?"
"Your father was there when I woke up." She tried to hide it but he saw her shudder slightly at the revelation; he wasn't quite sure what it meant that after everything she'd done, she still worried about her father's approval. After letting her sweat a moment longer, he said, "I told them the perp was a woman, but that I didn't get a good look at her."
She shut her eyes and let out a deep sigh. "Thank you," she said softly.
"I didn't do it for you," he said quickly, "I just didn't think your family needed to hear that their missing daughter was rummaging through the family safe."
"You're right," she said, "they don't."
"I did you a favor," he said, trying to keep his anger under control long enough to get the information he needed, "Maybe you could do one for me."
"Maybe," she said reassuming her coy attitude.
"Tell me what the hell you're up to."
She shook her head, "Sorry. That would take all night and you and I really aren't in a place where we need to be spending the night together."
"How about the cliff notes version?" he said undeterred.
"Suffice it to say it's not as bad as it looks," she said standing up and moving towards the door.
He blocked her way with his body. "No, it doesn't suffice it to say."
She made a noise of frustration. "John-"
"Or how about this?" he said looking steadily into her eyes, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't arrest you."
"Wow," she said with a bitter laugh, "this is just like old times. It's been a while since you said those words to me. Really brings me back."
He took a breath, reminding himself that letting his own bitterness take over wouldn't get him anywhere. Maybe there was just part of him that refused to believe that Natalie could do this. She got in over her head and she made bad decisions, but most of the time her motives were pure. But he also knew she'd go to any limit for the people she loved. He just hated thinking about who she loved these days. He forced himself to meet her eyes. "Is this really the kind of life you wanted? He's got you stealing from you family."
"I haven't stolen anything from them," she insisted, backing up from the force of his words, "and John, seriously, if I wanted to steal from them, you know I could find easier, more profitable ways of doing it."
"So why have you been cracking open their safes?" he asked.
"First of all, let's make it clear those are Buchanan Enterprises safes, it's not as though they belong personally to my family," she said.
"Is that what you tell yourself to get to sleep at night?" he asked.
"With the hours I work, I do most of my sleeping during the day," she replied without flinching.
He shook his head. "The cuteness isn't going to get you anywhere," he assured her, "I know you too well. I know when you're trying to hide something. And I have to wonder, with everything I already know, what could be so bad you'd still want to hide it from me?"
"Maybe I just enjoy the game?" she suggested.
Not allowing her to rattle him, he said, "Look I'll help you, but you have to let me. If you're in danger of any sort…"
"I'm not the one in danger," she said.
He took his time, examining her face before deciding she was speaking honestly. "Then who is?"
"Buchanan Enterprises," she said.
"In danger… from you?"
"You got me all wrong, McBain," she said, "whatever issues I have with my family, it's in my best interests to keep the family business solvent. Which is what I've been trying to do."
"By breaking in and-?"
"By trying to track down the person who's been leaking corporate secrets to the competition," she explained.
"I suppose it would have just been too logical to go to the police?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest, still not entirely convinced.
She pretended to mull this over before saying, "Well see the thing is, me and the Llanview Police Department have a messy relationship. I used to work there until I got caught stealing evidence from a crime scene. And on top of that, the commissioner's friends with my parents and he's likely to tattle on me if he finds out where I am. Plus, I used to date the chief of detectives and it was a really messy break up so…"
"So you kicked him in the face and let yourself into his apartment?" he finished for her.
"Pretty much," she said with a grin.
"What am I supposed to do with all this, Natalie?" he asked.
"What I'd like to propose is a little information sharing," she said, "I'll give you the information I have about this corporate spy, and you let me see your files on the break-ins so I can see if there's anything at all that will help me out."
"And what do I tell Bo about this?"
"Nothing," she said emphatically, "Uncle Bo can not know that I'm involved. No one in my family can."
"You realize this is illegal," he said.
"I'm willing to bet they'll turn a blind eye to that if it helps you catch a criminal," she said.
He shook his head. "I don't know. I have to think about this."
"Fine," she said with a curt nod of her head, "I figured you might. Just promise me you'll tell me your decision first. Before you talk to Bo or anyone else about me."
"How do I get a hold of you?" he asked.
"I'll call you in a few days," she said, "you can let me know then." She turned and walked towards the door.
"That's it?" he called after her, "nothing else you want to say."
When she turned back around she had a wistful look on her face and he thought he caught the glimmer of a tear for a moment. "I'm sorry for knocking you out," she said as she opened the door and slipped out of it.
His first impulse was to follow her—not to go running after her, but to try to track her back to wherever she was going. From an investigative standpoint it would have been the smart thing. But there were answers he knew he really didn't want and a lot of them had to do with where she was living, with who, and what her life was like. When she'd walked out of his life five years earlier he'd decided not to go after her and he saw no reason to change that decision now.
Despite her promise, she didn't call. He didn't quite know what to make of that, but it only took him a week to track her down. More accurately, it took him three days to track her down after the four it took for him to make up his mind to do so. Once he started looking, she was surprisingly easy to find; so much so that he could almost kick himself for not searching for her before. But then he remembered there were reasons he'd let her disappear all those years ago.
Based on the timing and the frequency of the break-ins he figured she had to be working out of a location that was easy driving distance from Llanview. AC had been his first thought, but he turned up nothing there and decided it was probably too obvious anyway. That's when he found two apartments in River Valley, about an hour away, rented to a Natalia Buchannan. Her technique was so simple it was genius—close enough to her actual name she was probably able to use her actual IDs without anyone noticing and just different enough that she wouldn't show up in a basic computer search.
He drove there after work, exactly a week after the night he'd run into her at BE. He drove in circles around the town for nearly an hour before he convinced himself that going to her place was the right decision. It was just after 8:30 when he arrived at the apartment complex. The two apartments were in the same building and he took a guess that he would find her in the larger of the two. He took a deep breath before knocking, steeling himself for whatever, or whoever, he might find behind that door.
Natalie answered the door herself, dressed in sweats, that brown hair that he still found disconcerting thrown back into a messy ponytail. "John?" she gasped before she was able to cover her shock with the nonchalant attitude she'd had at their last meeting.
"You never called me," he said, "a guy could get his feelings hurt from something like that."
"You have feelings?" she asked dryly. Smiling at his glare she asked, "I guess you want me to be impressed you found me?"
"Not really," he shrugged, "it was pretty easy once I decided to do it. Never had much reason to look for you before."
"What are you doing here, John?" she asked folding her arms as he pushed his way past her.
"Oh, it's okay for you to show up at my place. Hell, to let yourself in. But I need a written invitation to come to yours?"
"I can't be seen in Llanview," she said, "I couldn't wait out in the hallway. And I needed to apologize for knocking you out and explain the break-ins and ask for your help. Why the hell are you here?"
"You were supposed to call," he said sullenly.
"I had to leave town unexpectedly," she said. "I just got back."
"This isn't going to work," he said, raising his voice, "you can't pop in and out of my life as it's convenient. You can't ask me to share my information with you when you're determined not to give up any of your information, you-"
"Would you keep your voice down!" she hissed glancing anxiously towards the bedrooms.
Something dawned on him and he glanced around the apartment. "We're not alone, are we?"
He could see her debating for a moment whether to deny it and finally deciding it wouldn't do any good. "No," she said, "we're not."
"Who is it?" he asked, motioning wildly with his hands, "Is it Vincent Jones the international fugitive himself? Or is it some new guy you've shacked up with? Let's see judging by your new line of work he must be-"
"Mommy?" a small voice behind him asked causing the rest of his next question to die in his throat. He turned to see a little girl with dark hair and round eyes standing in one of the doorways. "Mommy, why is he yelling?"
To be continued…