Jack McGee: Life goes On?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Incredible Hulk. I love the show, and here is my support.
The city was busy as usual as Jack drove down its streets, heading towards the bright Times Square. Pat had run late and called him around 7 o'clock, apologizing to him up and down, until he'd finally managed to pry the location of the restaurant out of her. Jack had offered to pick her up, but she'd elected to go home first and then meet him there. He found a garage two blocks away, and walked briskly to the front of the place Pat had told him about. She arrived not five minutes later, smoothing down a light blue dress as she walked up to him. Her hair was put up in a loose bun, and she'd put on some more make-up. He looked down at his deep red suit and checked his cuffs before offering his elbow, with a grin.
"You look very beautiful, Patricia."
"Thank you Jack, you look sharp as always." Jack's eyes crinkled as his grin broadened and he led Pat up to the host.
"Good evening sir, do you have reservations?"
"Yes, two for McGee, please." The man checked the book before him, and nodded.
"Right this way please." The man smiled and led them to a table at the farthest wall in the slightly dark restaurant. The tables were covered in off white sheets, candles and dim lights the only source of illumination. Jack pulled out Pat's chair, practically running the host over to beat him to it. She grinned and set her purse on her lap as she grabbed a napkin, watching Jack setting into his place and look around briefly.
"I can't remember the last time I was in a place this nice. I hope I don't use the wrong fork." He and Pat snickered lightly but the host was not amused.
"Your waiter will be right with you." He turned and walked off quickly, as Jack watched him, with a rather perplexed look.
"He must get that a lot." Pat shrugged.
"Yeah, but he didn't have to be so callous about it. Eh, he's not the one earning the tip." One corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk as Pat laughed quietly. "So, how did your meeting with the editors go?" Pat looked at him and sighed. "Oh, that bad?"
"No, just, that frustrating. We got a lot done, it just took us forever. That new guy, Ted?"
"Yeah, I've met him. Didn't give me an overall great impression."
"Well, I'm sure you've noticed he likes to contradict everything, even the color of the sky. He would not listen to reason today, even though the whole panel was in agreement."
"Wha-? The whole panel?" Jack looked a bit incredulous as the waiter came over, setting two menus on the table. "The whole panel never agrees on anything, unanimously." Jack looked up at the waiter and then back to Pat. "Would you like something to drink?"
"Water is fine, thank you." She nodded to the waiter and then met Jack's eyes, hers flashing with a soft smile.
"I'll have water too thank you."
"Very good. I'll be back in a moment." Jack could feel his cheeks warming as he gazed into her smile. He sat there for what seemed like forever, just enjoying the calm and relaxation. No stress, no running, no stories, no Hulk. No Hulk. It felt like his heart had skipped a beat at the thought that, no longer would he have the resources to travel places, that he could find a lead, or a trace, or anything on his illusive John Doe. He knew with retiring, the Hulk would not be something he could go after anymore, but the reality had never hit home, until just now. He thought that it would give him relief, calm, but instead it was making him panic. A life without the Hulk; sure he would be able to go through his old files, but he would have to spend his own money now, and there would be no cover stories to hide the fact.
"So Jack, how has your first half day of retirement been?" He focused his eyes back on her as she sipped her water that he hadn't even realized been set on the table. He took a good pull of his and smiled, trying to slow his heartbeat.
"Quiet, but otherwise rather uneventful. Most of my things are put away or put out. Now I just need to go through my old files to see what I can keep and what I can throw out." He shrugged and drank more of his water.
"Is it all your old Hulk files, or are there other ones too?" Pat leaned forward, putting an elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand. She looked genuinely interested.
"Well, there might be one or two folders in there, but other than that, pretty much everything is on the Hulk. No one saw a reason to keep it, and when he stopped appearing, the only reason they kept the information was because I paid for the space to keep them in." Jack finally felt his face truly blush as he lowered it to look down at his menu. He finally picked it up and tried to look interested in it.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of Jack. It's a good thing you kept them. I know the story meant a lot to you, and it's important too. Sadly, one that no one except us, and John Doe, will ever understand, or believe." She took her chin out of her hand and reached for her glass, picking it up lazily and swirling the liquid around a couple of times before finishing it off. Jack watched her over the edge of his menu, hiding a small grin as he noticed the small, dark pink lipstick mark she'd left. He managed to bring his attention long enough to the menu to pick out something and then put it down, folding his hands on top of the table. "Jack, tell me about him." She smiled as she held her own menu in her lap.
"About John Doe? What about him?" He looked a bit confused. Pat scanned her menu once over and looked back to him, her eyes wandering to his hands.
"What was he like?" Jack dropped his chin to his chest and glanced up at Pat briefly, before looking at his hands. She wanted to know what John Doe was like. Was she more interested in the Hulk, than Jack's retirement? Why did his conversations with her always seem to turn back to John?
"He was smart, probably a doctor, and very troubled by what happened to him when he turned into the Hulk. He also saved my life, how many times, I've;" he laughed briefly, "I've lost count how many times he's helped me." He focused on her face, and saw the taut line of her mouth. He hadn't given her an answer she'd wanted, but he didn't know what else to say.
"Sir, Ma'am, are you ready to order?" Jack looked back to his menu and ordered a steak, while Pat got chicken. The waiter took their menus and they remained silent as the waiter returned, filling their waters and setting small salads in front of them. Jack wolfed his down while Pat took a few bites, but mostly just pushed her salad around the bowl. The silence persisted, until the waiter had at last brought their dinners and set them in front of Jack and Patricia. The portions were considerably small as Jack picked up his fork and knife, cutting into the steak half-heartedly.
"So, how are the new kids doing? I heard that you just filled a number of positions with some kids practically straight out of school." Jack shoved a small piece and chewed, enjoying the rather excellent steak.
"Well, we just hired about 20 people, nearly all of them fresh out of college. We're hoping that they can bring a new reader base to the paper; our sales have been dropping a little over the last year. Unless of course, you were featured." Pat's voice wasn't quite sincere, and Jack ate in silence for a few more minutes. He leaned back in the chair, his plate clean, and watched Pat finish her chicken hungrily. He caught the waiter's sleeve gently.
"We'd like our check please." His voice had taken on a slightly raspy, more business-like tone.
"Yes sir." The man nodded with a dry smile and continued to serve the other tables for a few minutes before disappearing again. Pat crossed her arms, casting her eyes to her lap. She shifted uncomfortably and started to play with the clasp of her purse. Jack's composure softened a little as he watched her.
"Pat?"
"Hm?" She looked up and met Jack's eyes, but didn't stop fiddling with her purse, acting like she was looking for something.
"I'm sorry I haven't been very good company tonight. The whole retirement thing is still setting in, and, well, it's definitely strange at the moment." She closed her purse and set it on the table, opening it and taking out some money.
"No, it's alright Jack. You're still settling in." She set the money on his half of the table and he looked down at it. He set his index finger on top of the bills and pushed them back across the linen.
"Dinner is on me, Pat." He smiled and pulled out his wallet just as the waiter reappeared.
"You check." Jack took the paper from him and scanned it over before counting quietly and handing the money to the waiter.
"Please, keep the change." The waiter smiled at Jack.
"Thank you sir. Have a wonderful evening. Ma'am." He nodded to Pat and then walked off. She stood, smoothing her dress back down again as Jack stood and offered his hand. She took it and followed him out to the street.
"Jack, I just wanted to thank you for dinner tonight. It was really nice."
"It was nice of you to join me, Patricia. Thank you." He smiled, but not as brightly as normal. She took a step towards him and wrapped her arms around his torso. Jack stood up straight, but hid it by shifting his feet and then putting his own arms around her. "Would you like me to walk you to your car?" He spoke as softly, his voice just a bit raspy as she let go and shook her head.
"I'm good, besides, I'm parked that way." She pointed in the opposite direction his car was. "I saw you coming from the other direction. I would feel bad leaving you to walk three blocks to my car, and however many to yours." Her face turned just a hair red as she smiled. Jack's eyes seemed to loose a little bit of their color as he nodded.
"Okay. Just, be careful. I'll talk to you soon, hopefully?" Pat took a stray piece of her hair and put it behind her ear.
"Sure. Sounds like a deal." She smiled and walked around him. "Bye Jack." She waved and started towards her car as Jack waved back.
"Good bye Pat." He sighed, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket and set off to the garage. When he pulled out of the garage, he turned off the radio and drove down the streets of New York with his windows up, in complete silence. He made it home sooner than he had hoped and opened his door, turning on the light and throwing his keys on the table next to the closet. He took off his jacket and loosened his tie, throwing both onto the back of the couch wearily. He looked at the corked bottle of red wine on the counter and opened it back up, pouring himself another glass. Without another thought he walked back over to his phone and absently pressed the message button.
"You have, zero, messages." Jack mimicked the repetitive notice he had become accustomed to.
"You have one message." The monotone voice spat back at him. Jack stared at the machine for the brief moment it took to rewind the tape and play it back.
"Hello Mr. McGee. I know the Hulk has not been seen for a long time now, but I think I may have uncovered something of interest to you." The older sounding male voice spat back a phone number and the time of the call before hanging up. Jack stood still for a moment, before grabbing a notepad and pen, and rewinding the tape, listening to the voice intensely. After he had written down the phone number, he underlined it and then looked at it, confusion, and conflict crossing his face. He glanced over at the boxes of files that populated a corner of his living room, and thought of the ones in his basement.
"What are you doing Jack? You're retired." He sighed, dropping the pad onto the tabletop and picking up his glass again. He walked over to the couch and flopped onto it, turning the TV on. He flipped through the channels lazily, but every so often, he would glance back at the machine, and the pen and notepad next to it. Finally, with his glass empty, he gave up and went to bed. He laid there for a time, before finally closing his eyes, and relaxing to the thought of resuming his hunt for the Hulk in the morning.