It was warm in Jack's apartment, and aside from a blanket unfurled on the couch, everything was neat, orderly. Put away.
She looked at the walls, the contemporary furnishings. His apartment was loosely styled, classically simple with a masculine air. Tasteful black and white photography adorned a few walls, and in the kitchen, the black countertops and lacquered oak cabinets shown pristine and realtor-ready.
It was all very nice, very functional, but felt oddly bereft. It was not a home, she deduced quickly. It was a place to sleep, to shower, and sometimes eat. A place for living, not for life. Much like her own dwelling.
Jack clicked the door shut behind them, and they were alone again. While her nervousness had abated somewhat during the ride over, it grew exponentially now. This was different. It had been a long time since she had been alone with a man she cared about—but, it'd been a long time since she'd cared about a man.
She moved a little deeper into the room, looking around. "Did you live here long?" Her voice sounded tinny to her, distant. "No," Jack said. "Just during my recovery."
She shrugged off her jacket, draping it over the back of the couch. His recovery. She felt a pang of guilt for not following up with him, for not having answered his calls. She did care for Jack, had cared for him for a long time, but she'd had her own demons to face. She worried her hands, feeling her stomach flip. You can't be with anyone if you can't be with yourself.
-0-0-0-
Jack's gaze flitted over the empty apartment until his eyes reached her face, lighting briefly on her graceful neck, the line of her jaw. He had never been alone with Renee in an environment so commonplace, had never shared a space with her free of violence and chaos, and he found the apparent normalcy of her standing in his living room strangely unsettling.
Distance. He needed distance.
"I think I've still got some coffee around here somewhere."
It was safer at the counter, with his back to her, where he could work through his thoughts without her reading his face. He filled the kettle, searching empty cabinets for any cups that weren't already packed for Los Angeles. He remembered, then. The move. He was supposed to be moving to Los Angeles, but that had been yesterday, and yesterday seemed like a lifetime ago.
He pushed it out of his mind, focusing all of his mental energies on locating spoons, coffee. The menial task served to soothe his jangled nerves.
"What's your name, your granddaughter?"
He looked over his shoulder at her, where she stood at the bookshelf. She must've found a picture I missed, he thought absently. Her hair was down, now, and hung loosely over her shoulders. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a woman in his apartment, and just having Renee around in this way filled the place with a familiar warmth he had not felt in a very long time.
"Teri," he said. "Kim named her after her mom."
-0-0-0-
Damn, she thought sickly. His wife. As well as everything he'd ever cared about, really. All the baggage he must carry on a daily basis, and here she was adding to it. What could she possibly bring to Jack Bauer's life that wouldn't, with all of her problems, cause him more pain?
"Jack listen." She looked at him nervously as he turned to face her. His eyes, warm and transformed by curiosity, sent a wavelength of helplessness coursing through her body.
"We've said a lot of things to each other. And you've made promises to me about…" She hesitated. She couldn't even say some of the things he'd said to her. Not because she didn't remember them—in fact, she'd played them over and over again in her mind, but to speak them now seemed something of a sacrilege. Or worse, speaking them threatened to expose those statements as misunderstood platitudes between friends. She swallowed.
"I just want you to know that I'm not going to hold you to them," she said finally.
Something broke inside him then. She was talking, but he heard nothing as he walked toward her. He looked at her face, sad, and doubting, and wanted nothing more at that moment than to take it all away.
He kissed her. Reverently at first, his hand slipping beneath her hair as he explored the strong lines of her neck, her supple mouth. She was surprised, clearly, but returned it, and with every kiss she felt desire like a sleeping giant rising to intrude upon her thoughts, threatening to overwhelm her with its incessant need. He rocked forward, pressing into her with his hardness, and she let herself go.
They fell in a tangle of caresses, onto the bed. There were too many layers, too much between them, and they struggled out of clothing that now felt unnatural, even absurd. Their unraveling passion coalesced into one person, one pain, as they sought to rise above the corrosive darkness they had lived with for so long.
She moved against him and Jack kissed her hotly, dragging his teeth against the gentle curve of her collarbone, delighting in her throaty response. Renee looked at him. Her eyes, hooded in the warm light, were dark and feral. The shared need that normally remained buried under the distractions of daily life lay perfectly exposed between them, venerable and liberating.
She held him tightly, moving her hands down the flat plane of his back, cupping him from behind. He buried his face in her hair, breathing her essence. They clung to each other as waves of release crashed overhead, threatening to drown them both.
-0-0-0-
The butter-warm light streaming through the curtains set the bedroom aflame. It was late morning, and Renee lay on her side, in bed, lightly tracing the strong lines of his back as Jack slept. Finally.
She smiled, remembering their time together. It took all of her strength to keep the other thoughts at bay, the darker thoughts that lay waiting to crowd her mind with the past day's events. She rolled onto her back, letting the morning sun warm her bare chest. Beside her, Jack moaned drowsily.
"You should've woke me," he said sleepily. She turned to face him, considering him quizzically. "Why?"
He touched her face gently, a light smile playing on his lips. "Because I don't want to miss a moment with you."
She leaned into his touch, her face unreadable, and a heavy silence settled between them. "Are you moving, Jack?"
He swallowed, and shadow passed over his face. "I don't know," he said quietly. I was going to L.A., to be closer to Kim, but…" Absently he stroked her bare arm, relishing the feel of her skin, the gooseflesh he left in the wake of his touch. He looked at her soberly. "If I did, would you come with me?"
"I don't know," she replied honestly. And she didn't. Everything was happening so fast. She looked at him. "So where does that leave us?"
He tugged lightly at the sheet at her waist, pulling her into a loose embrace. "Right here, together," he replied lowly. He kissed her. "We'll figure out the rest."
And she knew that somehow they would.