Righting Wrongs, part II
Five days had passed. Five days! Jamie stretched her mind to imagine what could be taking so long, for a fleeting moment entertaining some disturbing possibilities. She chuckled to herself at her own paranoia. After all, considering what they had already overcome, what could be frightening? Bats? Check. Rats? Check. Bears? Check. Dirty FBI agent? Check. Creepy Charles Mansonish murderer? Check. Leopards? Check. Marauding gangs of outlaws? Check...and check. Plane crash? Check. See, there's nothing the team can't handle. Ha, not even a clowder of cats.
Anik had shown her what she could only assume was the current date on the calendar. She had been horrified to learn she had spent three months in and out of consciousness before finally awakening fully a week ago. It seemed like something out of an episode of Criminal Minds to wake like that with no idea where she was, who she was with or how much time had passed with no way to communicate with this stranger. It soon became clear that he had helped her, and since then he'd shown no inclination whatsoever to harm her, she had begun to relax around him.
She struggled with her inability to remember the plane crash. On one hand, it was probably good that she blocked the terror and pain she almost certainly had experienced. On the other hand, it left so many unanswered questions. How did she come to be in this place? For that matter, where was this place? How had she become separated from the others? What had become of them? While she loved Abe and Jackson like brothers, she found herself more fixated on the enigmatic scientist. She desperately hoped he was all right.
From the moment they met at the zoo, she was intrigued by him. She smiled now to remember Delavane's deadpan "Mitch Morgan, as advertised" after Mitch insulted Jackson's father. On the surface, the man was indeed exactly what he advertised. He was one of those people that just didn't seem to give a damn what others thought of him. He knew he was the smartest guy in the room and figured everyone else did, too. He definitely did not suffer fools well.
It was curious that most people with those traits tend to lack self-awareness, yet Mitch seemed keenly tuned into the fact that he was perceived as moody, condescending and difficult. "Nobody took me camping. Would you want to be stuck in a tent with moody teenage Mitch?" He didn't seem at all bothered by it. He just wasn't interested in pretending to be anyone other than who he was. Well, that wasn't completely true, she mused. He was given to pretending he didn't feel anything, while in reality he felt things very deeply. He hid more swirling emotion behind those dark brown eyes than any man she'd ever known.
Thus was the paradox of Dr. Morgan: He was handsome and witty, yet moody and blunt. Condescending and acerbic, yet compassionate and forgiving. She'd been too decimated by the senators rejection at the time to truly appreciate it, but later it became yet another example of why she respected and admired Mitch. "Senator, I did my grad school thesis on the inverse proportionality of taxidermy wall mounts to their owner's penis size. My condolences to your wife."
The truth of the matter was that she liked him instantly. And as she got to know him better, peeling back the layers of his complex persona, she liked him all the more. Perhaps his track record was a bit shoddy, but he had come through every time she needed him. "I'm not worried about that," Mitch had supported her. "You know why? Because I have faith in you."
His confession in the hospital lab had completely thrown her for a loop. It felt like six steps had been skipped, but it made perfect sense at the same time given the amount of time they'd spent together and how well they'd come to understand one another. Still, she'd be lying if she said it didn't freak her out a bit. She had just come off a year long meaningless relationship with a coworker, and was more than a little leery of another one. She had to admit, though, that a relationship with Mitch Morgan would be anything but meaningless. Give it up, Jamie, she told herself. You're in love. That's why it's scary.
He'd been so adorable, loitering at the rear galley of the plane lining up the little bottles of booze. She felt drawn to him. He smiled when he looked up and saw her approaching. That smile! So infectious. She wanted to fling her arms around him and kiss him. The offer of vodka was perfect—liquid courage. A little small talk, and before the vodka could even take effect her lips had found his. It was brief, and when their lips parted she waited for his reaction. The pause was unnerving. Had her advance been unwelcome after all? Suddenly, he leaned in and kissed her in return. It felt so good, so right. His fingers caressed her cheek and she was his. Her last memory was of Mitch saying something about migratory patterns, then a violent jolt and she fell into a dreamlike state of semiconsciousness.
It never occurred to her to dial anyone else's number. She sat on the stoop, listening to the rings. What if he didn't answer? Did it mean he was dead? Or just not available? Should she risk the battery by leaving a message, or take a chance on calling again later? The sound of his voice derailed her train of thought. There would be no need for a Plan B.
"Mitch Morgan, totally awesome scientist." Smug. You don't see it too often, but often enough that they gave it a name. Her heart leapt! Mitch was alive and, well, Mitch.
She found it difficult to hold back the tears, stifling a sniffle. "Mitch….Mitch, can you hear me? It's me. It's Jamie."
"No, it isn't. Jamie's dead," he responded in an argumentative tone. "Who—who is this? You—you don't even sound like her."
Her heart broke for him. She reassured him in the only way she knew would convince him it was her. "Ok, you gotta stop being an ass for a second and listen. It is me, I am alive, and I'm really glad you are, too."
"It really is you." He was clearly laughing and crying at the same time. She wished she could reach through the telephone and touch him.
He said little, as if he were still trying to process what must have been one hell of a shock. But no matter. She knew he was ok, and the call could be tracked and they would come for her. Soon she would see him with her own eyes.
And now she sat scouring the horizon for any sign of her friends. "You and me, pal," she looked over to the leopard pacing in his enclosure. "We're going to D.C. You're going to be the kitty who saves the world."
Something was concerning her about the big cat. Her brow furrowed as she approached he fence and touched him through the chain links. Something was going on there that shouldn't be, but she just couldn't put her finger on precisely what. The sense of unease had begun creeping in a few days before, and it grew stronger all the time. With a sigh, she took a step back. Hopefully the guys would be able to figure it out.
She decided at last to stay positive; positive that all was well with Mitch and the team. Positive that the cure was in her grasp, and the animal kingdom would be restored to normalcy. Positive that Reiden Global would finally be made to pay for their atrocities. Positive that she would be cleared in death of Agent Schaffer. Positive that Mitch's daughter would be well. Positive that her career could be salvaged. Damn, that was a long list. Staying positive was going to require quite the leap of faith.
Sigh. The sun was beginning to set. Even if they were nearby, they wouldn't be able to come tonight. The wolves—and God knows what else—lurking in the darkness made night travel far too dangerous. "Please let tomorrow be the day," she murmured aloud, though no one was around to hear."Please."
