Fine Art
"Kate, could we please not have this conversation right now".
"When do you suggest we have it? When is a good time to have this particular conversation, Jack?"
He'd avoided it for almost three days and Kate wasn't having it anymore. She was angry and he knew it and she wouldn't put it off any longer.
"Jack, pull the car over".
"We're late already".
"I don't care, pull it over, now"
.
He turned into the park and drove a short distance before stopping. Kate rubbed her forehead for a moment, trying to calm down before she took his head off.
"How?"
"I'll take a week off, maybe two. And I'll deal with it. And then it will be over".
"Jack, a problem like this," she stopped herself. They had to start calling it what it was, and stop tip-toeing around the truth. "A drug addiction, you can't just 'deal with it' for a week or two, when its convenient, and then its over with, and then you don't have to be concerned about it anymore. It comes from somewhere, it serves a purpose, and you have to find out what that purpose is, and you have to confront it.""I know what purpose it served, Kate" he shot back. "I know exactly what purpose it served. It got me through it, ok? And I don't need some stranger poking around in my business ..."."If that was the only reason for it, Jack," she interrupted, "why are you still using now?"
"You don't just wake up one morning, Kate," he said sarcastically, "and decide you're not going to shoot up anymore".
"Well, I'm glad we agree on something. And, obviously, what I meant was, why haven't you done one concrete thing to quit? You've been back almost six weeks. Besides telling me about it, what, exactly, have you done to beat this thing? "Face it, Jack. What you've really been doing, instead, is accommodating it, figuring out ways to keep it going". She was getting louder too
.
"I've had a few things to attend to, Kate. You may recall that I've been trying to get Ramon to tell us something, anything, that would actually justify my having gone down there in the first place? And then" he added, as if she were a child who needed to be reminded about something that was pretty basic, "There was the little matter of the guys Hector sent up here?" "I have to get a breathing space, one or two weeks, when I can take time off, and hole up somewhere, and deal with it," he repeated. "That's when and that's how this thing is going to get handled".
"Really? And tell me, Jack, is that going to happen before or after you go back to get Claudia?" They were both silent for a long minute.
"It will be after" he said quietly "I'm sorry, I can't tell you anything more definite about that yet, no more than what you already know. I've been working it out, but I can't tell you exactly when..." Then he added, "I really am an idiot. You must be worried about that, too".
"No, it's of no importance to me at all, Jack Bauer. I don't care if you go and try to 'rescue' your other...what's the word I should use here, Jack? Girlfriend? Woman? Lover? Just what word, Jack, describes both of us accurately?"
"There isn't one word," he said, "Because I love you, and I owe her. I owe her a great deal, but those are two entirely different things". He reached for her hand and she let him hold it. When she started calling him by his full name, he was in serious trouble. "None of this is going to be easy, Kate. Nothing has ever been easy for us, and there's no reason to believe its suddenly going to start getting easy now."
"Besides," he said, cautiously, hoping it wasn't too obvious that he was changing the subject, "think about what's going to happen if I do go into rehab. If I do what you want me to do, what do you think is going to happen at work? "What's going to happen at work is, I might as well put my retirement papers in because my career, sad thing that it is, will be over. Nobody's going to send a 'former' junkie out on a field assignment. Nobody's going to give a junkie a security clearance, so they won't even give me a decent desk job. Nobody's going to put me in charge of anything that's any more important than making arrangements for the office Christmas party"."I thought we were talking about your life here, not your job".
"Yeah, well, let's emphasize the 'mine' here, ok?" "And Kate, aren't you the one who's always saying that my life is my job? I know you don't mean it as a complement. But it's not something that's changed over the three years we've known each other, and it's not going to change. I am what I do, Kate. Didn't we get clear about this a short time ago? "Besides" he hesitated again. "Its getting worse out there, not better. We're spread so thin now... there's nobody who's ready to take over field ops, and there won't be anybody ready for three or four years, maybe longer. We're barely holding things together as it is"."Keep it up Jack," she said wearily "and you're going to be in great shape to do field work. Tell me, what if they needed to send you out again tomorrow, or even next week? What would you do to keep yourself 'supplied' then?""I'll do my job, Kate, the way I've always done it. If I have to go cold turkey over night, I'll do it. If I have to go cold turkey while I'm working, I'll do it. I've done my job when I was in a lot worse shape, when I was halfway dead. Don't worry about that piece of it...I'll do my gddmn job," he said angrily.Neither of them seemed to have anything to say after that for a long minute. Then Jack decided he needed to make a peace offering, of sorts."I still can't see myself doing anything else," he said in a quieter voice. "I'm more than forty years old. I've been a cop, or in the military, or at CTU, my entire adult life. What, exactly, do you expect me to go do instead? Become a brain surgeon? Besides, it's not this particular job, Kate; it's the way I am. If you could actually imagine me as a brain surgeon, you'd know I'd be the type that lived at the hospital". But his attempt to lighten the mood somewhat fell flat on its face.
"I don't know what you're going to do and, quite frankly, right now I don't care. I can't lay all that out for you. But I know what's going to happen if you don't do something about this, and you do too".
"I'm not saying that I won't do anything about it..."
"You'll be dead...
"Oh, Jesus...
"...either from an overdose, or because they'll finally be able to kill you, or because you won't care about anything else except staying as high as you possibly can for as long as you possibly can." "That's not going to happen". "I'm sure you didn't think you'd get 'hooked', either". She was too far into it, too ready to tell him the unvarnished truth, to hold back anymore.
"Where are you going, and what are you doing already, Jack, to make sure you've always got some handy? How many times, when you've told me you're working, have you really been out buying some more? Remember the money in your wallet last week? Repairs on Kim's car, my foot.
"Ok, Jack, so you told me. But you haven't stopped lying to me, because you can't stop lying. You're lying to me right now, because you don't have a serious thought in your head about trying to stop, do you? Why don't you spend some time thinking about why quitting always seems to be the last thing on your list of important things to do?
"You're lying to the people at work, because you're pretending you're back from Mexico when, in reality, you're carrying it around with you in your arm. It's always with you, as long as you're using. Mexico, and the Salazars, and everything you did while you were there, and everything that happened to you, are always going to be with you until you can get free of this. And getting some help is the only way you're going to be able to get free, and get your self back.
"Honey, you've even been lying to you daughter," she said finally, and a little more gently, "not so much because you haven't told her about this. But because you're trying to be this image you have in your mind of what Kim's father should be, and you're not being honest with her about who her father really is".
"Oh, so you think your father is so honest with you, Kate? You think he doesn't shave the truth for your benefit, so you can keep thinking he's wonderful, and honest, and upright, and all the rest of it?" Kate looked at him"What do you mean, Jack?"
"Never mind. Forget I said it".
"No, you meant something specific".
"No, I just meant that all fathers do the same thing for their kids, particularly their daughters." This is what you get, he told himself, for opening up your mouth before you think. "They try to come across as being better than they are. That's all I'm guilty of, with regards to Kim. I'm just trying to be her father, and somebody she can respect". There was another of those silences when neither of them could think of anything to say that would make things any clearer, or any better.
He looked out his window. "Besides, I can't do it to her, Kate. Don't ask me to tell Kim. I got her mother killed, and now, if she finds out about this..."
"She loves you, Jack".
"...it's asking too much. You're asking too much. I went down there, and I did my job. And what I gave up..." He stopped again. "I'm trying to get it over with the only way I know, and Kate, you just have to give me some more time. I need to do this my way. I got myself into this. I just want to have a chance to get myself out of it ".
"Jack, here's what I can't do.
"I can't lie there waiting for you to come out of the bathroom, waiting for you to get finished, when I know you're in there ...". She took a deep breath and then continued.
"I can't sleep next to you, pretending you're just a sound sleeper, when I know you're dead to the world because you're stoned out of your mind.
"I can't stand not being able to trust what you say to me, and, right now, you know, and I know, that I can't".
"I can't have it in the house, Jack".
He tried for a long time to think of something he could say to her, some good reason for why she should let things go on as they had before she knew, but he couldn't come up with anything. Which is why he had hidden it from Kate in the first place. He knew that what he was doing would be totally unacceptable to her. Of course she couldn't just give him a pass on this one, and ignore it, or look the other way.
But, when he was being completely honest with himself, it was also hard to imagine how he was ever going to go back to the way he was before he started using. That was the really surprising part. When he was waiting for the rush to hit him, and then when it did...it felt like he'd found something, finally, that really worked, something he'd been looking for, over how long a time? Something that felt, at that very instant, so right. He'd slipped into the whole of it so easily, the danger of it and the lying and the anticipation of that feeling, when you knew it was about to kick in, and you knew it was going to take you out of everything, and you knew all you had to do was just go along for the ride.
And, besides, why did it feel like he was too far gone to ever come back, that he had crossed some kind of boundary permanently? It seemed so long ago, such a long time ago. But, in reality, he'd just gotten serious about it, really hooked on the stuff, only about seven or eight months ago. Was he simply afraid of finding out, for a certainty, that for him there was no way back? Maybe he preferred the comfort of the untested illusion, that there always was a way to turn this around, to the very possible reality that there wasn't a way to turn it around.
How did she know all this? How did she know he was hesitant to even try to stop?
There would always be the crystal clear truth of that first time, that very first time, when he'd deliberately and purposefully decided that shooting up was what he wanted to do. He'd felt so grateful, so relieved, afterwards; the pressure was gone and he didn't have to think anymore because, of course, he couldn't think. And he wasn't worrying and he couldn't remember much, either, not without putting effort into it, and who in their right mind would want to remember any of it, so everything seemed better. Even now there were plenty of times when he felt perfectly calm, and more than ready for the rush, as he pushed that plunger down. Half the time he wasn't doing it because, now, he had to. Half the time he was using because he wanted to do it, because he liked the way it made him feel. That was his dirty little secret. And Kate had just about figured that one out too.
"Can we just do this?" he said, finally. "Can we just go to this thing you have to go to, and just think about this tonight and tomorrow? I don't want to decide anything right now, not when we're both angry and we're both upset. Let's give ourselves a chance to think this through when we're calmer, all right?" She didn't say anything. "Please, Kate".
"All right. I think that makes sense".
"Good". After a moment he started the car, pulled out of the parking space, and headed over to the cocktail party they were supposed to be at over an hour ago.
The gallery was crowded. They walked in together, both of them still upset and wondering what they were going to do, and worried about what was going to happen to them. Kate had her stage smile on but for once he couldn't muster one of those and settled for an expression that he hoped conveyed relaxed interest and friendly openness.
He hated these things. He hated talking to people he didn't know about things he wasn't interested in and he hated pretending he understood what the heck they were talking about. Leave him alone in the galleries, when he could actually sit and look at what the arts people called "pieces", and give him a chance to actually think about what it was he was seeing, and maybe talk to Kate about it, and he was fine. Then he could enjoy it. The other people buzzing around kind of ruined it.
"Do you want something to drink?" he asked her.
"Yes, thank God, any type of wine they have left, anything, as long as its got alcohol in it" she said.
Who could not smile at that one?
"Maybe I should bring you two".
"Or the bottle itself".
"Careful. I'm supposed to be the one who also has the drinking problem, not you, remember? I'll see what I can scrounge up".
As he walked over to the bar he reminded himself to mention the dual meaning of the word "pieces" to her. It was this game they'd gotten into: finding a word that meant at least two entirely different things, depending upon whether Jack heard it or Kate heard it. To him a "piece" was a .45 or a .357, or, in the singular form, a part of a woman's anatomy that wasn't mentioned in polite company. To Kate it was a metal or chrome thing resembling a bunch of car bumpers that was randomly welded together...well, that would be his description of the thing...or it was something gold or silver, usually with different colored stones, that came in a velvet lined box.
He was returning with her merlot and already half way through his J&B when he saw she was talking to her father. He knew the old fake would be here but seeing him...actually having to talk to him...was just the last straw. They would have to put on a good front and pretend that everything was fine between them. When everything definitely wasn't fine. Kate was still in some kind of shock. And he was...trying to avoid thinking about the truths she had shown him about himself. He was worried that she would insist that he make a choice here, and soon. Because there wasn't a choice he actually liked in the whole bunch. Talking to Bob Warner was just one more burden they didn't need right now.
Kate turned to him, reaching for the plastic 'glass', fake smile still in place, but saying, with her eyes, "Can you believe this? Did we break a mirror or something?" He wanted to kiss her right then and there for trying to find some humor in the whole situation.
He shook hands with Warner and felt a twinge of admiration for the man's ability to resist wiping his off after he'd touched Jack's, since it was so tainted and all. Acting civilized, as opposed to being civilized, was like the eleventh commandment to Bob Warner, especially in front of a lady, so there was no chance they'd get into even a bit of verbal combat while Kate was around to serve as ad hoc referee. She was saying something and Jack looked down at her, suddenly realizing that the hostile, defensive vibes he was giving off weren't making her life any easier. It was her father, after all, and she didn't need this grief off of either of them. Especially not from him, not after what he'd put her through over the last few days, and what he was asking her to just accept.
He looked over at Bob and, picking up on a lead Kate had deftly worked into the conversation, asked him if he'd worked on selecting the new "pieces" that the acquisitions committee had decided to try and purchase. The cocktail party was the kick-off for the months of fund raising which would make those purchases possible, and the Warner Corporation usually contributed several thousand dollars each year, especially if the selections were pre-Columbian, because Bob's wife, Kate's mother, had had a special interest in Latin American art from all time periods, but particularly from the Mayan civilization. Jack kind of surprised himself that he remembered all that. Apparently it surprised Bob too, because he went into a rather long description of how they tried to rotate the purchases among the arts of different geographic areas so that the collection was truly representative of the creativity of the entire world, although this particular museum was noted for the excellence of its pre- Columbian collection.
And then somebody came by and grabbed Kate to go see somebody else and they suddenly didn't have the buffer of her presence between them anymore and they both fell silent.
"I think you can cancel Kate's security screen next week, or at least take it down to a minimal level." Jack said quietly. Bob looked at him, considering.
"You're sure?"
Jack shrugged. "As sure as anybody can reasonably be about such things." He looked at Bob "I sent them a message in a way I think they'll appreciate, a message about how their interests, as businessmen, could be best served by leaving her out of anything they might care to do to me."
"Really? Won't they doubt whether you actually know as much as you say you do?"
Jack considered this for a moment.
"True, they don't really have a complete picture of how much I knew about their operations when I left. But they know what's been shut down by DEA already, and that should give them some ideas about what else I could do to them. Seeing what I've done already...I think they're more than a little concerned, yes".
Now it was Bob's turn to be thoughtful. "You know, it might be a good idea to have somebody else confirm for them exactly what they've got at risk if they try anything with Kate". That comment told Jack something he'd been wondering about.
"Hector won't believe it coming from you, Bob. You've got a vested interest in making him put Kate off limits, remember? Just because you're buying dirt about me from him doesn't mean he's going to think you're being honest with him about what I know and what I don't know".
For a second Bob looked at him with genuine surprise. Then he smiled a little, as if it amused him to know that Jack had figured it out. The information Bob wanted on what Jack had been up to for the last year or so was going to come from Hector.
"Its not really that hard a thing to put together, is it Bob?" Jack continued, evenly. "I mean, who was I working for? Who beside Hector would be a better source for finding out exactly what I was involved in? Once he tells you what he knows, then you can easily cull the list to select the three or four 'incidents' that you think would work most effectively on Kate. You'll probably pick the same ones I would. You wouldn't want to show her everything at once. That would be overkill. All you have to do is lay it out for her when you're having one of those close, father and daughter conversations. Her basic decency will take over at that point, she'll realize what she's been sleeping with, and I'll get tossed out on my ear.
"That's what you want from Hector, isn't it? Some specifics? Because the truth is so much more convincing than something you would just make up, right? You know how to get in touch with people, even guys like Hector Salazar. And he wouldn't be reluctant to tell you what you wanted to know, because you're not going to the DEA or to anybody's government with this. You don't want any trouble with CTU or the Agency. You just want Kate to tell me to get lost".
Jack longed to tell Bob how much money he'd wasted; Kate had pretty much achieved the same objective with a laptop and a few sessions on the Internet. But of course the things Hector was sharing were the things that had never made it to the newspapers, and it wasn't just the details to fill in what she already knew about, either. Hector would be more than happy to tell Bob about the things that made sleep really hard to come by, without a little chemical assistance. All the other "jobs" he'd pulled off, the ones she still didn't know about, that made Jack grateful to stick that needle in his arm in the first place, and kept him sticking it in at regular intervals to this day. And, at no extra charge, Hector would also toss in a few juicy details about the trips to the bars and what went on at the parties. Then he'd clue Bob in on the big surprise: Jack's more than casual acquaintance with a wide variety of controlled substances, and his particular attachment to the most addictive one of them all. How much of this did Bob know already?
"I wish I could convince you there's nothing personal about this, Bauer. I'd have the same objection to any man in your profession who took up with Kate. You really are pretty sharp, pretty realistic about how the world works. Its just too bad that you've got this thing for my daughter because, otherwise, you and I could work together quite effectively".
"Is that supposed to be a complement? And, forgive me, but what could possibly be more personal than what you're going to try to do to me, and to Kate? Because Bob, I have to say, for me it feels very personal. And when it comes to that, well, I don't feel obliged to remember you're her father. You're just another problem that I have to solve. Just like I solved the problem of the guys who came here to kill her."
Warner looked at him steadily "You are a lot of things, Jack, but you're not a criminal, or a murderer. Not yet, anyway; you might get there, in time. Oh, you did your share down in Mexico, and probably every other place you've been as well, but that's part of the act, I understand that, that's different. But not back here; you've got a different code when you're back here. What's amazing is how you move back and forth between the two, without getting them mixed up with each other.
"Tell me, how does Kate get protected if you're not around?" Warner asked, like it was an honest question instead of a pointed one. "Let's say Hector finally manages to eliminate you. How safe is Kate then? He strikes me as the vengeful type, the type of guy who'd go ahead and kill her too, just to be thorough".
"Oh, I think I've convinced them that I intend to be around for a lot longer. And if I'm suddenly not, the process is in place to make sure they loose a lot of money...and I mean, a lot of money...if anything even slightly suspicious happens to her" Jack finished his drink, thoroughly tired of this conversation, and sick to think of what else, on top of what she already knew, Kate was going to hear about him from Bob.
The only counter move he had, the only way to stop it from happening, was to show Bob, in cold black and white, what he'd uncovered about Warner Corporation's under the table activities and creative accounting methods. Then he could make a few unveiled threats of his own. And somewhere in between what he had on Bob, and what Bob had on him, they'd make a deal. Clearly, he had to finish his own little "fact finding" mission, and he had to do it fast. But if the issue were forced, where would that leave Kate? Didn't she loose, no matter what he and Bob tried to do to each other?
"When he asks for it, pay Hector the protection money he'll want, but put a time limit on it. Say, six months or so. Then I think she'll be untouchable".
Bob looked at him for a moment, considering him. "If I could really believe you'd be back out in the field by then, we might be able to reach an agreement here. But I don't think that's a good chance to take. She needs to know who you are as soon as possible. It's gone on long enough already".
Jack smiled at him. "Don't worry about Kate. Your problem is, you don't know me. You will. Good talking to you, Bob". And he walked away. Bob went off to chat up "Marilyn and Tony and Gabrielle", spying them across the way.
Jack headed off to the bar, intent on getting a refill. Two drinks wouldn't amount to a parole violation, and if ever an evening merited a couple of stiff ones, this one did. While the bartender was pouring, two elderly ladies walked up next to him. Jack nodded to them. They looked a little confused.
"Ladies, can I help you?"
They smiled back at him and the shorter one, the one in the pink suit, spoke for them both. "Young man" she said, (Jack already thought they were charming) "is it a cash bar?"
"Well, yes, it is. Can I get something for you?"
"Oh, we wouldn't think of it".
"Please, allow me. What would you like?" He figured them for one dry sherry, and one Dubonnet, on the rocks.
"I'd like a vodka martini with three olives, up," said the taller one, the one in about six strands of pearls.
"Scotch, straight up. J&B, if they have it" added pink suit.
By the time the drinks appeared they were "Miss Emily" and "Miss Claire" and "Jack". They knew he worked for the government in a 'security capacity' but no, he wasn't a policeman.
"Do you come to these events often, Jack?" asked Miss Emily, brightly.
"Well, I used to, but I haven't in some time. I'm only here tonight because the woman I'm going out with recently joined the fund raising committee".
"Oh, what's her name?" asked Miss Claire. "We know everyone on the committee". So Jack told them.
"Kate Warner? We've known her since she was a baby. Her mother, you know, was a Thayer".
"No, I didn't know that".
"Oh, my yes, the Thayers have been in Los Angeles for ages, just ages. I think they came out with the gold rush".
"Really".
"Yes, her mother's name was Anne Marie Thayer. She was quite a beauty. Of course, you're too young to have ever met her. Kate takes after her".
"There was quite a to-do when she married Bob Warner, you know" added pink suit, Miss Emily, lowering her voice. "Her father didn't think it was quite appropriate".
Once they'd thrashed that out, and Jack had secured another round of drinks for them, they found a bench and some chairs where the three of them could sit and talk. Jack admitted that, after the Impressionists, he really didn't know too much about art, but he always liked Winslow Homer.
"Oh, Jack, you must come and see our Homers".
"You mean you have more than one?' he asked, delighted with them.
"Oh yes, grandfather was quite a collector, quite a patron of several artists you may have heard of".
"Father was more into abstract expressionism, towards the end there," added Miss Claire, rolling her eyes at the thought. "He paid a fortune for a Jackson Pollock but you'll never guess...it turned out to be a fake".
"Mother" added Miss Emily, with a profound nod, "was not amused".
"Now tell us, Jack, and don't think we're jut two prying old ladies, where were your people from?"
"Well, as far as I know" he said quietly "somewhere in Ireland and some where in Germany, but I don't really know when they came over. My parents were raised somewhere in the Midwest. They didn't meet until they came out here but that's about as much as I know. They were both only children, and they just had me so there weren't any cousins or aunts or uncles around when I was growing up".
"What type of work did your father do?" It was strange but, for some reason, their questions didn't make him feel uncomfortable, the way they usually would.
"He was with the Bureau" and then, seeing that didn't register with them, he added "with the FBI".
"And you've followed in his footsteps" said Miss Claire. "Security men, men who pick that line of work, well, it seems to run in families, haven't you noticed?"
"You mean, more than plumbers or electricians or stockbrokers? Well, I suppose so, I never really thought of it that way".
"Did your mother work outside the home?" asked Miss Emily.
"She taught college English, at first". He mentioned a regional Catholic college. "Then later, after my father died, she taught high school English. The money was better".
"Did your father like the FBI?"
"I don't know, I don't remember talking to him about it". Jack shrugged. And then he surprised himself again by adding "He died when I was about twelve. He was on a stakeout, there were some bank robbers they were after. Nobody notorious or particularly famous, just three ordinary, run of the mill, bank robbers. And one of them shot him, and that was it".
"How sad for you, and for your mother" said Miss Emily, quietly.
Jack smiled, ready now to change the subject. "Oh, we did all right. Tell me, would you like to hear a joke? I just heard this one the other day. Nothing risqué, and it is pretty funny".
"Too bad it isn't risqué" said Miss Claire, forlornly. "We never get to hear those"
Kate walked back through the gallery. The party was starting to thin out and she'd done her duty and was wondering where Jack had hidden himself away so he wouldn't have to talk to anyone.
She turned a corner and was surprised to see him sitting and talking with the Wilshire sisters, of all people, actually looking like he was enjoying himself. The three of them seemed to be having a real conversation, smiling and talking, and then Jack must have said something funny or told one of his jokes because Miss Emily and Miss Claire started tittering away, laughing as heartily as ladies who were almost eighty, and who were on their third or fourth round, would allow themselves to laugh. He looked so handsome and relaxed, Kate thought. His face had that soft, gentle expression it took on when he was really listening to someone, when he wasn't tired and didn't have his guard up and wasn't just pretending he was in the room with you when he was actually a thousand miles away. She was seeing a glimpse of the way he really was inside. The way he looked when he was with someone he liked, and that he felt comfortable with. Someone he trusted. The way he must have been all the time, twenty years ago. Before the people he worked for along the way realized how talented he really was. Before they discovered all the ways they could put Jack Bauer to good use.
He looked up for a split second, and their eyes met. Realizing who it was, he stood and, suddenly, smiled at her, with that beautiful, welcoming smile that lit up his whole face. To her surprise Kate suddenly realized that she'd just fallen in love with him all over again. Her heart, which had felt so heavy with worry and frustration, felt unburdened, and linked to his. Everything else melted away. They looked at each other, and it was as if they were alone, and as if they understood each other completely. She smiled back at him. To let him know she had chosen him for herself again; that she made that selection without any hesitation, and with simple, stunning finality.
"You three look like you're really enjoying yourselves". Jack quietly took her hand, intertwining their fingers together.
"Dear Kate, don't you look lovely. It's been too, too long". Miss Emily offered her hand and Kate kissed Miss Claire's cheek.
"We must apologize. We've been monopolizing Jack here. Such a lively young man. Where have you been keeping him?"
"I travel a lot for work," offered Jack, beaming. If he were a cat he would have purred. Kate gave him the once-over. "
Has he been behaving himself?"
"My dear, he's been a perfect gentleman. He's listened to us go on and on about what Los Angeles was like years ago, before they tore down all the orange groves to build those awful roads".
"We also talked a good deal about the Dodgers," continued Miss Claire. "And what they're going to do about finding a left handed closer." Now it was her sister's turn to look forlorn. "We just love baseball, you know. We watch it all the time." Miss Claire confided.
"So do I" Jack added with a quiet smile.
"Yes, he's quite knowledgeable." Miss Emily smiled at him as if he were a favorite nephew. "Well, we must be going" she added, and reached into her handbag, retrieving a cell phone. "Lionel, please bring the car around. Miss Claire and I are ready to go".
"May I walk you out?" Jack asked, gallantly.
"No dear, we'll just toddle on out by ourselves. It was so lovely to have met you. Now, you have our cards. We truly want you to come by and see those Homers some afternoon".
"I'm looking forward to it. I'll give you a call by the end of the week". They said their goodbyes, asked to be remembered to Kate's father, and then they were gone.
"What nice ladies" said Jack, smiling as he watched them go. "And they really know baseball, who'd have thought".
"Jack" asked Kate "do you have any idea of who you were just talking to?"
"Who, Miss Emily and Miss Claire?"
"Yes. Their last name is Wilshire, Jack".
"That's nice"
"Wilshire...as in Wilshire Boulevard?" He turned to look at her. "They are two of the richest women in the State of California. We're standing on land one of their great grandfathers owned back when the Spanish were in charge".
"No kidding," he said. Then he added, slyly "They know a lot about your family, too". But then a thought struck him:
"And I insisted on buying every round". Seeing her look he explained "Only three, Kate. I didn't want us to get into an argument about that, too".
"Can you drive?" she asked as they got close to the car.
"Certainly. But, just for a change, maybe you'd better. You know, " he added, fastening the seatbelt "I really must be losing it".
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you disappear for an hour, and the best I can do is pick up two women who are both old enough to be my grandmother".
He'd been called in at 4:00 am so Kate wasn't surprised when he fell asleep on the way home. He woke up when she pulled into the driveway.
"So", he asked, yawning, "was the party a success?"
"I think so. We had a good turnout, got some interest from some potential, new corporate donors, and made the right impression. So we're off on the right foot. That's the best you can hope for at this point. Its a lot of money to raise"
When they got to the door, Jack said, "Allow me", took the keys and opened it for her. "Old ladies have a wonderful affect on your manners" Kate teased. She started inside but he took her hand. "Kate..." She turned to him. "I'm not as far gone as you might imagine" he said, and pulled her to him. The kiss was long and tender, a 'please, let's not argue anymore tonight' kiss. When they parted he still held her.
"I haven't forgotten what we talked about earlier, I just don't want..."
"Come in, Jack."
She took his hand and lead him inside.
"Did I tell you, I thought you were the life of the party? I was watching you for a while, and I couldn't believe how everyone seemed so glad to see you, like they'd come there just to see you," he said, as she took off his tie.
"You know what I liked?' she asked him, taking off her shoes.
"What?"
"When I saw you talking to Miss Claire and Miss Emily. You looked like you were really enjoying yourself, not just grinning and bearing it".
"Maybe it was the J&B".
"No, I don't think so." She hung up his jacket. "It was more genuine than that." She turned and he was undoing the buttons on his shirt cuffs, so she put her arms around him and pulled the tail of his shirt out of his pants. He kicked his shoes out of the way.
"Wouldn't it be great," he said, pausing to kiss her "if all we had to do was this," and he kissed her again, but this time more insistently "to make all the problems go away?" He stopped for a moment, just to look at her. And then he asked her, very seriously... "Do you like me, Kate?" he asked, holding her. His expression showed he actually had some doubts about what her answer would be.
"More than you could possibly imagine".
He pulled her to him so firmly and kissed her so deeply, with so much relief and longing that she felt it too, how much he wanted her. Sensing his excitement for her made Kate feel even more that she wanted him, and that fueled the thought that maybe they could hold it together with this, how good it always was for both of them. She wanted to forget everything else that was pushing them apart again, at least for tonight. She couldn't understand how he could embrace a drug, a habit, a crutch, with such relief; how he could need such a thing so much that he was unwilling to even try to live without it anymore. That he had made a deal with it and decided this was so important to him, so necessary, that he would take what it gave him and, in exchange, the drug would get to win in the end.
He sensed her preoccupation and hesitated. "Kate, are you here?" She smiled at him. "I started thinking and I don't want to do that anymore tonight. Take care of that for me, Jack". He undid her hair. He always liked to have her hair free, and to comb his hands through it.
"I think I can handle it" he said, and started kissing her over and over and over again, holding her face in his palms, then encircling her with his arms and then touching her everywhere, slowly, with his hands. She opened her mouth so he could explore her another way that he liked; everything tonight would be the way he liked it.
He moved to her neck, especially to the place just under her ear that, when he kissed it, always made her tremble a little, and close her eyes and arch her back, pressing herself against him even more. He wanted to move on to her shoulders so he pulled the zipper down in the back of her dress, pushing the fabric out of his way, and that worked for a while. But in what seemed like a moment her dress had to come off completely because it was still in his way. He had to get past all these clothes to get to her.
When they were on the bed Kate made him stop. She slowly unbuttoned his shirt while he watched her, hoping he knew what she was going to do next. She pulled it off, and ran her hands all over his chest and his shoulders and his arms, feeling the strength of him, the hardness that was so different from how her own body felt. He leaned down closer to her and she took his nipples in her mouth, first one then the other, sucking them and licking them in the way she knew he liked so much that he would close his eyes to concentrate on it and to enjoy it more, holding himself still so she could do that to him for a long time.
She wanted to excite him even more so she undid his pants and pushed them down past his hips, freeing him so she could run her nails lightly over him, again and again. He shuddered each time she touched him, like an electric current had snapped through his entire body. Jack went back to her neck, feeling her move against him more emphatically now, especially after he had slowly moved down lower. Kate called his name softly, over and over again, while she held him there a while longer, offering him first one and then the other to nurse at, holding the back of his head, feeling like his mouth was not just there but all over her, taking what ever it was that he needed from her.
He reached down so he could understand how far along she was and his hand was wet just from touching her. He found what she wanted him to touch most of all and soon she was also telling him how much she wanted him, how he could do anything he wanted to do to her, anything at all, it was fine, Jack, it was so good, Jack, keep doing that, Jack, please don't stop, Jack. He brought her through it, holding her afterwards and waiting for her to come down a bit, until he could feel her relax. He held her and waited a little longer, until she told him she was ready for him. They always had this most private and most intimate of conversations without words. She liked to tell him in other ways. She told him in the way she kissed him and touched him and also in the way she opened herself to him that she was his. That he could have her now.
He was pretty far gone by the time he eased into her the first time. So he waited again, just to enjoy the way she held him and just to coax it along, so it would last as long as he could make it last. When he started he didn't think he could make himself stop but, again, he managed to, once. He rested on her, trying to catch his breath, holding back to make it better at the end. She was so tight around him that if he moved an inch it would all be over. He didn't want it to end. He wanted it to go on and on and on. When he reached down to feel her again she kissed him, and gave him her tongue to suck and he almost came without moving when she did that. Kate kissed and bit his neck. Turning, she whispered in his ear. "Do it now, Jack. Do it", and she touched him in the way that always drove him over the edge.
In a second he was stroking her, feeling it building to the point that he couldn't hold back anymore and he didn't want to hold back anymore and nothing could have made him hold back. Kate moved through this with him, she was rising and falling in order to meet him, like each time she wanted even more of him. They both wanted more, and then more on top of that, and suddenly they were both free, and so together with each other that they didn't know where one of them ended and the other one began. He heard her call him that final, last time and he emptied into her, groaning and calling her, too, as he brought her along with him. He was panting as he came and came and came, still riding her for what seemed like forever, until it was all over, and he was finished, and he could finally stop, and he could rest.
He floated along for a while, stunned with the pleasure of it and only gradually coming back inside himself. He shifted to his side and pulled Kate close to him, rubbing her back and then leaning in to kiss her again. She rested in his arms, feeling so safe and so loved by him.
"Do you want to get some sleep?" she asked.
"For a while. Then I want to do this again". He was stroking her arm the way he liked to. She was soft and warm against him and he realized she loved him. She truly loved him. He kissed her forehead.
There was something that was extremely important that she had to know, that he had to tell her.
"I love you, Kate," he said slowly. "That's one thing I have never, ever, lied to you about, not once. I will never lie to you about that. Promise me you won't forget that. No matter what happens, it's the one thing you'll always know I always told you the truth about".
"I won't forget, Jack, I promise".
She nestled her head against his chest, slipping automatically into the way they always drifted off together, and soon she was still, and peaceful. But for Jack sleep did not come. He held her, staring into the darkness, wondering how far love really went, and when you were asking even love to bear too much.