Summary: Jane and Kurt take a moment to remember a fallen friend and leader - set in the second half of season 2.
He had to pull a lot of strings to make it happen. And he knew that with everything they had going it may have been a waste of time, but he knew it had to be done.
There was a time when he'd spend long moments staring at that wall, proudly, reverently. But not recently; not since his picture was put up and Mayfair's was taken down. Ever since, he would look the other way when he walked through that specific hallways, or just move through it very fast. It was strange seeing his picture side by side with all the great assistant directors who came before him, and it was heart breaking and infuriating that Mayfair was not among them.
But tonight he actually took the time to go there and look at the wall. Granted it was long after everyone had left, but still he had to. He had finally managed to get Mayfair's portrait back where it belongs. He stood there for a few minutes, the memories of Mayfair coming to him one after the other. He was completely lost in thought when Jane came up to stand next to him, and for a moment, he did not even notice her presence.
"It's great what you did," she said, and he turned to her with an appreciative smile.
"She deserves to be up there," he said.
Jane nodded. She may have only known her for a short time, but she knew Bethany Mayfair was a great woman, a great agent and a fearless leader. "Yes, she does," she said.
The stood in silence, both studying the different portraits on the wall. Jane realized that in all her time at the FBI, she had never taken the time to actually look at them, and as she read their names, she noticed she did not even know the names of all the former assistant directors. As she went down the line, one by one, she studied them closely. They had all been older men, with an air of authority and diplomacy about them; proud men. And then there was Mayfair; a woman she knew had broken so many boundaries and must have overcome to get to where she got. She had truly earned it and did a hell of a job at it.
And then there was Kurt. She smiled proudly when her eyes landed on his portrait. He was much younger than any of his predecessors, and even in his formal suit, she could see that where they had diplomacy and authority, he had pure leadership and raw passion, the difference even evident in that official FBI portrait. And for a moment, she understood why Shepherd would want a man like him in this position, and not one like all the ones before him. And she suddenly felt a rush of protectiveness take over her; an urge to protect Kurt from whatever Shepherd had planned for him. She knew he was capable of many great things and she feared what Shepherd could do to that potential.
She shook away those feelings and found herself looking back towards Mayfair's portrait.
"I never got a chance to thank her for everything she did for me," she said, her voice just barely a whisper.
Kurt turned back towards her and saw the guilt-ridden look on her face. He brought his hand up to her shoulder, squeezing gently. "You're doing it now," he told her, "by fighting back and stopping Shepherd."
He dropped his hand from her shoulder and turned back towards the wall. "By making the most of the second chance we've been given," he said, "she believed in second chances, and that's how we thank her."
Jane didn't miss his use of we. She knew the two of them had also faced some problems shortly before she was killed. And even though he never told her much about it, she knew whatever it was it also left him feeling slightly guilty afterwards.
"She would be so proud of you," she said as she turned towards him.
He didn't look at her. Instead, he just shook his head, looking down, away from Mayfair's portrait, a small deprecating smile on his lips.
"I don't know about that," he said.
Jane shifted, moving to stand in front of him, squarely, stubbornly, "Mayfair would be so proud of you, of everything you've done and have been doing," she said confidently.
When he wouldn't say anything, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor, she moved forward and brought both of her hands up to his faced. With her palms against his cheeks she forced him to look up and at her. "Hey, do you trust me?" she said, staring straight into his sad blue eyes.
He nodded, "of course I do, Jane," he said, staring straight back at her, as lost in her green eyes as ever.
She smiled at his quick response and brushed her thumbs against his stubble. "Then trust me when I tell you that you are doing an incredible job," she told him confidently, "you may not have gotten this job the way you wanted, but you deserve it. You deserve this position. You're good at this; the best man for the job."
He nodded slowly and she moved even closer, until she was close enough to let her forehead brush against his. "And if Mayfair was here, she would tell you the same exact thing," she whispered.
She felt him nod against her, and she brushed his cheek one last time before she let her hands drop back down. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, before she started to move back. But before she'd allowed enough distance between them, she felt him reach for her, one arm going around her waist and pulling her towards him, holding her tight in his embrace.
She hugged him back, her arms going around his neck as his second arm fond its place around her back. They stood like the for a moment in the empty NYO, just holding on to each other.
"Thank you," she heard him whisper against her neck, and she just held him tighter.
