II: Nathaniel Taylor

Jim's second week in Terra Nova was nearly as eventful as the first. The threat to the colony was a lot smaller- a genemod virus instead of a winged predator with razor-sharp beaks as long as his thumb- but no less dangerous to their small, concentrated population. He was safe from its effects due to the cold he'd caught from Zoe, but he had to watch everyone around him fall apart without any idea whether Malcolm and Elisabeth would be able to come up with a cure, and they lost a few people before it was all over.

The victims were scientists, not soldiers, but their loss was just as significant as those who'd been killed the week before, if not more so. 85 Million BC might be a paradise compared to resource-strapped 2149, but living there came with correspondingly spectacular dangers, many of which were still poorly understood. And the people in charge of it all were just as human as the rest of them. Not that Jim had been under any illusions; but it was still sobering to have proof of that first hand.

He trudged slowly up the stairs to the Commander's office the day after Taylor returned to duty, giving the man plenty of time to hear him coming. Taylor had been one of the worst affected; eleven years of his memories had been erased, leaving him mentally stranded in a war zone, convinced that every person and object around him was either working for the enemy or a PsyOps hallucination. Elisabeth had cleared all of the victims, including both Taylor and herself, but she'd privately confided that they were all likely to be distractible and jumpy for a few days while their recovered memories finished settling back into place.

He knocked on the open doorframe, then stuck his head into the wide, wooden-walled room. The table and the virtual screens they used to monitor the colony's defenses were all clear, and the vanity desk with its massive skull base and glass top was likewise empty, except for a powered down plex and an abandoned coffee cup. None of the chairs were occupied. But over at one of the windows, a tall figure in the standard black outfit of the security forces leaned against the sill, bracing his weight on both hands as he looked out over the colony.

"Taylor?" Jim prompted the man, in a quiet interrogative tone.

The Commander let out a long breath, then glanced back over his shoulder, blue eyes haunted by whatever was on his mind. He offered Jim a slight nod before turning to look out the window again. "Shannon."

"Lt. Washington passed me on weapons and security procedures this morning," he replied, walking slowly into the room. "There's some differences from what I was used to on the force in Chicago, but nothing that would keep me from doing my job."

"Good, good," Taylor nodded absently. "You should probably read through the bylaws, too. Most folk do before they come, but given the non-traditional nature of your recruitment..." He let the sentence trail off, dry as dust, a wry curl at the corner of his mouth.

Jim noticed himself noticing that little curve and the way it pulled at Taylor's closely trimmed facial hair- he'd never taken a lover with a beard, and the sight made his skin prickle with curiosity- and mentally cursed Elisabeth's perceptiveness. He would have been just fine ignoring the way the man affected him awhile longer, especially after Maddy's horrified report from the night before, when she'd witnessed an amnesiac Taylor's reaction to hearing about his wife's long-ago death. Taylor was clearly a man who loved deeply and without reason, and bore deep scars from past losses. Not exactly shallow waters for a newcomer to splash around in.

"Yeah," he drawled in return, blinking those thoughts away. "I'll get Elisabeth to quiz me. Or better yet, Maddy. She was in love with the idea of this place long before her mom was recruited; I'm sure she's got them all memorized."

"Just the kind of young folk we need here," Taylor approved, glancing back at him again. Then he frowned thoughtfully. "Which reminds me. When you asked a few days ago about recruitment procedures for Terra Nova..."

Crap; Jim should have known Malcolm would say something despite their tentative truce. The smug asshole really wasn't Jim's favorite among Elisabeth's boyfriends, especially now that Jim knew just how far back their history went. He winced, holding up a placating hand, and walked closer to Taylor so his voice would have less chance of carrying. Enough people were aware of their private business already.

"Now hold on a minute. I'd apologize for getting on Malcolm's case about that, but he had to have known I was in prison when he asked for Liz. I saw the look on his face when he realized who I was, and that I was actually here, and I couldn't let that go by unanswered. I thought we'd worked those issues out, though; I didn't even hit him when he kissed her in front of me while we were all trapped at Outpost Three." Amnesia or no, that had been a little much for Jim to take.

Taylor's eyes widened at that, apparently surprised by Jim's vehemence. "Ah... Malcolm didn't actually say anything," he said, raising an eyebrow. "But now that you bring him up... how did he get that bruise on his jaw if you weren't the one who punched him? I know I didn't run into him before I broke out. My memories of the whole thing are a little hazy, but not that hazy."

Wait, what? Jim froze in embarrassment as he switched mental gears. If this little conversation wasn't about his love life, what was it about? "Oh. Uh, it was me, actually... but that was later, when he was panicking about the ovosaur, not... You know what? Never mind." He waved a hand dismissively. "What did you want to ask me? Commander?"

A smile tugged at the corner of Taylor's mouth again as he absorbed Jim's babble. "Taylor, please. Or Nathaniel. I think you've earned that, since I'm pretty sure I did punch you." He mimed a solid shot to the jaw. "Actually... I was wondering about the sequence of events that brought you to Terra Nova."

Jim snorted almost involuntarily at that, then shifted his attention toward the view below them, bracing himself on the window sill next to Taylor. He supposed it would have been too much to hope for that the Commander would let the details of that particular security breach slide unquestioned. "I'm pretty sure you already know. I broke out of Golad, snuck into Hope Plaza, crashed the Tenth, and stumbled out of the portal into the arms of your soldiers." He lifted a hand, gesturing toward the patrol passing below them in the lane by the gate.

"Yes, but how did you break out of Golad?" Taylor pressed him. He wasn't quite interrogating him- Jim was pretty familiar with that sort of thing from the other end, so he'd know- but there was a lot of intent in the question, more than just curiosity. "Where did you get the false ID? How'd you get your daughter out of the government foster home? There are a lot of unanswered questions, there."

He turned and raised his eyebrows at Taylor. Truthfully, he'd wondered about the details himself. But there hadn't been time to ask between the moment his wife slipped him the laser and the instructions under the prison guard's nose and the moment he'd met up with her again on the platform in front of the portal. And afterward, he'd figured what he didn't know couldn't be used to incriminate her.

"What, didn't Elisabeth tell you? I assumed it had something to do with her family connections."

Taylor blinked slowly, blue eyes searching Jim's face. "So... you didn't arrange the escape yourself?"

Jim huffed a laugh. He wished; but no, he'd been the princess in the tower, that time. "And when would I have had time to do that? In those two seconds of freedom after punching that officer for threatening my family?"

"No one visited you in prison?" Taylor asked, frown deepening with the question.

"What are you asking me here?" Jim asked, frowning back. What answer had Taylor been expecting, if not that? "No, no one visited me in prison. It wasn't allowed. The only person I saw was my wife, the week before the Tenth was supposed to depart. She bribed a guard to talk to me, then passed me an air mask with a laser and instructions stuffed inside."

"Just like that?" Taylor said, skeptically.

"Just like that," he shrugged. "I cut my way out the morning of the pilgrimage, ditched my tracker, and went where the instructions told me to go. My first stop was a cache with ID and payment; I traded the money I found there for Zoe's backpack after I got to the station." Taylor's expression grew more incredulous the longer Jim spoke, but he wasn't sure how better to explain it. He knew how it must sound, but that didn't make it any less true. "And before you ask how she got our daughter there... money greases a lot of wheels, and while my in-laws might've preferred Elisabeth to marry someone of their caste and educational background, they'd still do just about anything to make her happy. I wasn't going to ask any awkward questions."

"Convenient," Taylor commented, still frowning.

"Convenient would have been me not getting arrested in the first place," Jim had to point out. "Or whoever reported us keeping their damn mouths shut. Of course, Malcolm might not have invited Liz here if that hadn't happened, so..." He tilted his hand back and forth in the air. The last two years had been several levels of hell, but if he'd known ahead of time that it would all lead to the kind of freedom his family had found in Terra Nova... he just might have thrown that punch anyway. "I'm just glad they didn't manage to stop me before I made it through the portal."

Taylor nodded slowly. "So your purposes for being here are, in fact, entirely your own."

The decicred dropped, finally, and Jim crossed his arms in exasperation. "What, did you think I was working for the same people as the Sixers?" he said, sarcastically. "The guy who saved your life his first week in Terra Nova. With a wife and three children at risk if you ever found out what I was up to."

"I didn't say that; you're right, it doesn't make much sense," Taylor shrugged. "But then again... neither does your story, if you break it down. No matter who was involved, you have to know how it looks. Someone went to an awful lot of trouble to make sure you got here."

"Yeah, my wife." Jim rolled his eyes.

"And by your own admission, you know absolutely nothing about what she might've had to do to make that happen," Taylor pointed out.

At some point during the conversation, Jim had moved close enough that he barely had room to move his arm when he jabbed the Commander in the chest for that remark. "Just what are you suggesting, Nathaniel? You asking if my wife might be a traitor?"

Taylor snorted, irritatingly calm. "I'm not suggesting anything. Just asking a few questions. Trying to close a new hole in our security. If one man could get through that way, how many others could? And they might not all have innocent motives."

Maybe so. But did he have to be so provoking about it? Jim sucked in a breath in an attempt to quash his roiling temper. "So much for the song and dance about earning the right to use your first name."

Taylor shook his head, idly reaching to rub at the spot Jim had jabbed with his finger. The strap of his holster shifted over black cloth and firm pectoral muscles as he moved- and something in his posture seemed to relax, contrary to expectation, as Jim's mood worsened. "It wasn't a song and dance; I do like you, Jim. I just don't know how far I can trust you, yet. You can't blame me for being cautious."

Jim stared back for a long moment, weighing earned wariness, responsibility, and the spark of stifled warmth that wanted to leap in his chest like a twelve year old girl chanting 'he likes me' against his touchy pride and urge to defend his wife. It was a close run thing. "Fair enough," he said, roughly. "Though you don't exactly make it easy to trust you back, you know."

A smile broke over Taylor's face, as sudden and bright as a sunrise. "You're not the first person to say that," he agreed, amused.

From the look on his face, Jim could guess who the other- or at least one of the others- was. From the clues he'd picked up so far, Taylor and Wash had known each other a long time; more than a decade, given how defensive Taylor had been about her loyalty to him while he was having those flashbacks to Somalia. Jim wouldn't be surprised if there were more than friendship there, either- or if there had been, at some point in the recent past. It would fit his pattern: deeply and without reason.

It would be easy to be jealous of her... if Jim acknowledged the nonsense his hormones were feeding him. But Alicia Washington was a very competent soldier, and a damn fine friend, from what he'd seen. Taylor relied on her- and she made him smile. How could Jim stay angry in the face of that?

"Wash, I bet. You should listen to her," he replied, allowing a grudging smile in return.

"How'd you guess?" Taylor inclined his head.

"It's not that hard. You've known her a long time, right?" He rubbed at his throat, reminded about their violent encounter in Outpost Three again; the way Taylor'd insisted she'd been medevaced out when Jim had mentioned her name. "Since 2138, at least, from the available evidence."

Taylor's grin faded a little at the gesture, and he glanced aside, toward the dinosaur skull desk. "Longer than anyone else in Terra Nova, you're right about that. Last person I'd ever doubt." He cleared his throat. "So I get that you don't want to question your wife, Shannon. But think about it this way. If someone in 2149 made the price of your freedom her cooperation with Sixer activities, would your Elisabeth have done it?"

Well; probably. He'd certainly have been tempted. But: "Not without telling me," he replied, fiercely. Sure, they fucked up sometimes on the communication front. But something that would affect all their futures? She might do it, if push came to shove, but only long enough to turn it around on whoever thought they could use her. And she'd never keep him in the dark, if she did.

"You're sure?" Taylor pressed, gently but firmly.

"I'm sure," Jim replied, equally immovable.

Taylor stared at him measuringly a moment longer, then nodded. "Well, all right then. I believe that you believe it, and that's something more than I could say this morning."

So... in other words, the jury was still out on Elisabeth, but not Jim? That seemed backwards- unless Taylor really did mistrust everyone whose motives he couldn't account for a hundred percent. So what made him that sure of Jim? Was he really that transparent?

"You have a suspicious mind, you know that?"

"I like to think of it as well prepared," Taylor replied.

"Well, it's something, all right," Jim drawled, with a rueful smile.

Taylor returned the smile with interest, wolfish with a hint of a dare in the crinkles around his eyes. "Regret saving my life yet?"

There was only one way to respond to that kind of question. "My life would be a damn sight less interesting if I hadn't," he said, dryly. "Regret giving me a badge yet?"

"I'll let you know," Taylor chuckled, then gestured toward the door. "I won't keep you, though; I know Wash has probably already added you to the security rotation. And- I'll have a word with Malcolm. Like I said, he's a good man; but if he brought your wife here under false pretences..."

"Nah, that's all right," Jim waved that idea down as casually as he could. The last thing he needed was Malcolm explaining to Taylor exactly how the Shannon's marriage worked; that was an awkwardness that could wait for another time. "I'd hate to piss him off if it's not really necessary; after the last couple of weeks, I think it's pretty clear the colony would be worse off if Elisabeth and Malcolm weren't working together. I just didn't think it was appropriate for him to bother you with our domestic issues."

"If you're sure," Taylor clarified, raising his eyebrows as Jim half-turned to retrace his steps toward the door.

"Very," Jim replied, lightly. "Besides, I think Elisabeth would skin me alive if she heard I'd said anything."

"I'll just bet she would," Taylor snorted, then nodded. "Keep me informed about the investigation."

"Will do," Jim said, tapping the doorframe again on the way out.

-(2/6)-