Title: Happy Birthday, Jack
Author: Janice aka jes004
Rating: R.
Disclaimers: The Bristow family and Arvin Sloane all belong to JJ and Company. All the rest are figments of my imagination.
Acknowledgement: The paragraph attributed to Sydney (you'll know when you get there) was written by Blackdawn.
This is my entry into the J/I challenge, sponsored by Blackdawn. The challenge requirements are found in the SD1 J/I section. Topic #20858. For some reason, the URL won't show when I upload this to Fanfiction.net.
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Part 1 – Los Angeles … The Invitation
The shrill ring of the telephone broke Sydney's concentration. Placing her book on her lap, she grabbed the phone off the bedside table. She froze as she heard her father answer from another extension.
"Mr. Bristow?" Sydney recognized the voice immediately and her heart sank. "I'm Angela Devon. Sydney is in my Freshman English class."
"What can I do for you, Ms. Devon?" Jack interrupted tersely. "I don't mean to be rude, but I just arrived home after a long flight from Tokyo and I'm tired." He opened the pantry and pulled out a bottle of scotch, before removing a clean tumbler from one of the cabinets.
"I apologize for the intrusion, Mr. Bristow, but the principal asked me to call. He says you haven't responded to the RSVP that was sent last month. We are finalizing the arrangements and she was certain you would want to be present for Sydney's award."
The bottle slipped from Jack's hand and landed heavily on the counter. "Sydney's award?"
"She didn't tell you? The short story she submitted won first place in Governors Education Stars contest. It's a very prestigious award. I'm surprised she hasn't mentioned it?"
"I've been out of the country. As I said, I just arrived from Tokyo." Jack told her. He opened the bottle of whiskey and filled the glass halfway.
"Our school was selected to host the awards banquet and ball. You should have received an invitation in the mail several weeks ago?"
"I haven't seen it. When is it?"
"Next Friday. March 24th. May I tell the principal you will be attending?"
"Yes, we'll be there. I'm sure Sydney will know the details?"
"Absolutely. By the way, it's formal, black tie and evening dress. We gave her the information a couple of weeks ago."
"I appreciate your call Ms. Devon. Thank you."
Jack placed the phone back in the cradle and took a healthy swig from the glass before heading to his study. Once there, he opened a side drawer in the desk and pulled out a small silver edged frame. It held a picture of him carrying Sydney piggy back around his neck. She had been a cheerful and loving five-year-old. They had been so close then. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ease their perpetual tension. Taking another swallow of scotch, he contemplated his relationship with his daughter.
Her mother's death eight years earlier had been a catalyst for both of them. The one time she needed him most, he'd failed her. Instead of helping her through the grief of losing a parent, he'd wallowed in the mire of his own self-pity. As each year passed, they grew further apart and he didn't know how to stop the cycle. Several times, he'd tried making overtures, but every gesture was rebuffed. And now, at fourteen, he feared it was too late.
It hurt that she hadn't told him of the award or the ceremony. He had no doubt that she'd intercepted the invitation. Sighing, he replaced the frame to its hiding place and downed the remaining scotch.
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Sydney quietly placed the phone in its cradle. Relaxing against the headboard, she resumed her reading, waiting for her father to find her. Several minutes went by and she wondered if he even cared.
"Sydney?" He stood in the bedroom doorway, face impassive. She pretended not to hear him. "Put the book down."
She sighed loudly, but did as he asked. "Is this going to take very long? I have to finish this book before my English test tomorrow."
"That would be Ms. Devon?"
"Um, yeah." Too late, Sydney realized she'd given him an easy opening into the telephone conversation. "H..how did you know?"
"She called. She wanted to know why I hadn't responded to the invitation Governors Education Stars award banquet."
"Oh, that." She shrugged and picked up the book.
"Why didn't you tell me about it, Sydney?"
"Because I'm not going." She stared at her book, not daring to look up. When he didn't respond, she risked a quick glance. He was staring past her, his eyes focused on a spot just to the left of the bed. She knew without looking what his eyes were seeing. He had given her the photograph the day after her mother died. She remembered vividly the day it had been taken. They celebrated her sixth birthday the night before. Her parents had given her a shiny new swing set. The next morning, her father assembled the unit while her mother supervised.
"Jack, are you sure these swings are secure?" Laura's eyes twinkled as she teased her husband. "They don't look very strong. Maybe I should test it out first?"
Jack removed the bit and placed the drill in his tool chest. "It will hold the weight of a six year old. Sydney, are you ready to swing?"
"Oh, yes please, Daddy!" The little jumped up and down excitedly.
"Let me get the camera." He walked over to the glass-topped table and picked up the Nikon Laura had given him for his birthday a month earlier. When he turned, Laura was sitting on the swing, holding Sydney securely in her lap. He adjusted the focus and lightly squeezed the trigger. He took several more shots before laying the camera down and joining them by the swing.
"Do you want Daddy to push you on the swing, sweetheart?"
Sydney squealed in delight. "Put me down, Mommy, so Daddy can swing me." Laura kissed her daughter's forehead, then released her.
"Don't push her too high, Jack," Laura told him anxiously.
"Don't worry, honey. Keeping her safe is my sworn duty as a father.""I don't know why you care," she said, breaking the silence. "You'll probably have to go sell airplane parts somewhere, anyway." He stared at her, his face a stone mask.
"I told Ms. Devon we will be attending. She said you had the information?" She nodded reluctantly. "You can give it to me in the morning."
He left her then. Anger overwhelmed her. She took a deep breath, trying to get her emotions under control. I told Ms. Devon we will be attending. Who did he think he was? Her father? She swallowed back her tears. She had been so excited when she learned her short story had won first place. All day, she'd wanted to rush home and tell him; to prove to him that she was worthy of his love. When she got home, Mrs. Andrews, her off and on nanny, told her he had left that afternoon on a business trip. He came home a week later, but by then the excitement was gone.
She picked up the photo of her mother and wondered for the thousandth time how different her life would have been had she lived.
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Jack went back to his study and poured himself another drink. He tipped the glass against the bottle and made a toast. "Happy birthday, Jack Bristow. You really screwed that one up." He finished the drink in two swift swallows and started to put the bottle back. He looked at it for a long moment, then shrugged. "What the hell. It's my birthday. Someone ought to at least celebrate it.
He took the bottle and the glass and carried them up to his room. Once there, he pulled off his jacket and threw it on the bed. Pulling off his tie, he headed for the bathroom. He started to throw the tie on the winged back chair when he noticed a brightly wrapped box and card on the seat.
He opened the card first. It was a generic 'with love to Dad on your birthday' greeting, but he treasured the handwritten part that simply said 'love, Sydney'. The box was inexpertly wrapped, telling him that his daughter had done the work herself. A hard lump formed in his throat. Carefully, he removed the paper from the box. Every year since she was two, Sydney had purchased a shirt and tie for his birthday. Every year, he would proudly wear her gift to work the next day.
This year, the shirt was a shimmering dark green, with a green and burgundy striped tie. It was a more conservative choice than she'd shown in past years. He felt a pang of disappointment. Sydney's previous concoctions always drew attention at the office and he loved explaining that his attire was a birthday gift from his daughter.
He lifted the shirt from the box and gave a startled laugh. Fully revealed, he now saw that the shirt changed from green to burgundy depending on the viewing angle. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispered softly.
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When Jack came down for breakfast the next morning, Sydney was already in the kitchen. His eyes widened as he realized she was preparing him breakfast.
"You weren't here last night in time for dinner, so I thought I'd make your breakfast for your birthday."
"Thank you for the shirt and tie, Sydney." She gave him a mute nod and turned back to the stove.
She scooped the scrambled eggs onto his plate, along with a helping of potatoes and bacon and handed it to him. He felt a warm glow in the pit of his stomach. "Thanks, honey." His voice was rough with emotion and he had to swallow several times to keep the tears at bay.
"I put the information about the banquet on your desk."
"I'd like to read the story you wrote."
She stood silently by the stove.
"Sydney?" he prompted.
"I have a copy in my room. I'll get it for you before I leave."
He nodded. They ate breakfast together and for that Jack was thankful.
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The Jennings Aerospace building was a hub of activity when he arrived at the office. Normally, he would arrive too early to witness the early morning rush to work. He could see the surprise in the eyes of those who dared to greet him. Those who noticed his shirt and tie remembered to wish him a happy belated birthday. He nodded in response.
When he reached his office, his secretary was waiting by his desk. Eleanor Herndon was a petite blonde, whose organizational skills were unmatched. Her vivacious personality made her popular among her co-workers, who often wondered why she would choose to stay with such a dour boss.
"Good morning, Jack. Jane told me you were on your way up. I put the Gandero files on your desk. The coffee will be ready in about five minutes."
"Thanks, Eleanor." He opened his briefcase and handed her several files. "These are from my meeting with Onda. Sloane will want a copy of the meeting notes. The rest just needs to be filed."
"I see Sydney's taste in clothing is improving. I really like that combination." She patted him affectionately on the shoulder. "You really should have taken today off, Jack," she scolded him. "Birthday's are supposed to be special days celebrated with your family."
"Thanks, but my birthday was yesterday."
"And you were on an airplane until very late. I'm sure Sydney was disappointed."
"She made breakfast for me this morning."
"Well, good. That sounds promising. This ought to help, too." She handed him a card. "Happy birthday."
He opened the card and saw two tickets for a popular dinner theater.
"You're welcome," she teased. "Take Sydney with you. She'll be the envy of all her friends."
"Thank you, Eleanor…you didn't have to"
"No, I didn't," she interrupted. "But I wanted to. You are the best boss I've ever had and this is my way of saying thank you."
"Don't let the other secretaries hear you say that." He gave her one of his rare smiles. "They'll think you are crazy and try to get you committed."
"Pfut to them. I know better. The tickets were my husbands' idea. He thinks you work too hard. Anyway, we went last month and the kids loved it. Even our Jenny and she's Sydney's age."
The phone on Jack's desk buzzed. "Bristow."
"Jack, we need you at the bank. Can you be here at ten?" Arvin Sloane's words were couched as a request, but both Jack and Eleanor knew that he was just given a command.
Jack looked at his calendar and grimaced. There were twenty cases he needed to complete by the following Friday. The Gandero operation had to be in before Monday. "Ten is fine, Arvin."
Eleanor saw his look. "It's almost done, Jack. Why don't you look the file over and I can make any changes while you are at your meeting."
He nodded and pulled out the file. An hour and a half later, Eleanor popped her head in to tell him Sloane had sent a car for him. He looked up in surprise.
"For your birthday, he said." She shook her in disgust. "Why couldn't he just give you the day off?"
He snorted in response, as he handed her the files. "Thanks, Eleanor. You are a treasure." Hesitating, he pulled Sydney's story out of his briefcase. "Could you make me a copy of this before I go? I'll take the copy with me and you can leave the original on my desk."
On the ride over, he began reading his daughters' story. By the time he finished, his eyes were misting over, a mixture of pride and the emotional impact of her words. The story was surprisingly mature and he recognized within it elements of Laura's writing style. They had an underlying element of sadness to it, which had been a recurring undertone in Laura's compositions, as well. He hadn't understood that sadness at the time.
Now, of course, he was no longer under the illusion of a happy marriage and saw her sadness for what it was. Trapped in a marriage arranged by her superiors and saddled with his child, it was no wonder she was unhappy. He felt the bile rising from his stomach and opened the window for fresh air. He pushed the thoughts of Laura away.
The meeting was short, for which he was thankful. He was heading for the door, when Arvin called him into his office.
"Justin just called from France. The agent he sent in to retrieve the data box is dead. I'm sending you to complete the operation tomorrow."
"Arvin, I just got back from Tokyo. Can't you send someone else?
"Jack, the information contained in that box is vital to our continued existence as a viable corporation. You know that operation better than anyone I have. Hell, you wrote the protocol."
"I am sure you have many capable agents…"
"Very well, you can leave on Monday. It should only take you a day or two. You'll be back by Wednesday."
Sighing, he nodded. "I want you to know that if I can't get to it by Wednesday, I'll have to come back and work out another protocol."
"Fair enough. Oh, and happy birthday. Sydney's taste is improving."
"You're the second one to tell me that today. I'll be sure to tell my daughter her selection was a hit this year."
"Do that." Sloane gave him a dismissive nod.
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He rode back to his office, thinking about the man Arvin Sloane had become. They had been good friends since his days with the CIA and his only friend in those first horrifying years after Laura's death. He thought he knew Arvin better than anyone except his wife, Emily. Now he wasn't so sure. Something had changed in him and that change had affected their friendship.
He had been serious about being back by Wednesday. This time, he wouldn't allow his work or Arvin Sloane to interfere with his family life. The data box was important to Sloane, not to him. If they missed it this time, there would be other opportunities to retrieve it. Sydney's banquet was far more important.
The teacher had mentioned the occasion was formal and he was fairly certain his daughter didn't own an evening gown. He decided to buy something for her while he was in Paris. It wouldn't make up for everything he'd missed over the years, but it was a start.
When he got back to his office, he let himself in through a private entrance. His secretary was talking quietly on the phone and, with a start, he realized she was reading Sydney's story aloud.
When he found her, she was bent over the balcony railing, staring out at empty streets and dreamless houses. Sullen and still, she refused to see him in the dark, and he turned on every lamp until the room shone bright behind her. Until the melancholy glow lit her like an angel on the road to hell. She was holding one fist over the edge, tilting it slowly, and he waited several seconds more before she turned to him at last. Her smile was painful, her eyes clear, and he watched her fingers loosen as the ashes fell.
"The end. It's beautiful, isn't it?" There was a momentary silence.
"Yes, I am sure she's only fourteen. She'll be fifteen in April. The title? Wait a minute. It's called Ashes." More silence. "I've got to go back to work. Someone is buzzing me. Talk to you later, honey." He listened as she pressed the intercom button.
"El? Are you doing anything for lunch? We have a group going to that new place on Caulder Avenue."
"I don't know. I'm waiting for Jack to get back. I have a couple of things I need to go over with him first."
"Oh. I thought he was back. I saw the limo drop him off a little while ago." Jack slipped back out the side entrance and walked around to her office door.
"Oh, there you are! I've finished everything on the Gandero case, with just a couple of exceptions." She smiled at him.
"Why don't you go on to lunch while look it over?"
"A few of us are going Swak's. It just opened last week. You want to go with us?"
"Thanks, but no. Sloane wants me to check out a company in Paris on Monday. I'm taking your advice. If you need me later, you can reach me at home."