Monday morning rolled around with Siobhan determined to stay away from Jack. As luck would have it, she didn't see him until nearly noon. And he came to see her.

"Dr. Porter, could we speak privately?" he asked politely.

"Sure."

He led her to the same office where she'd seen him speak to Sydney on her first day. He closed the door behind them and indicated for her to sit.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior last week. I've been unaccountably rude. I'd like to start again, if we could."

"I'd like that quite a bit," she replied, pleasantly surprised by the turn of events. Siobhan put out her hand, "Well, Agent Bristow, here's to starting fresh."

He took her hand; she was amazed to see her hand engulfed by his larger one, and she hadn't been expecting such warmth either. Siobhan, reveling in the softness, blushed and nearly missed what he was saying. Mentally, she berated herself for acting like a schoolgirl.

"To starting fresh. And call me Jack."

"Siobhan." She grinned as she realized they were still shaking hands. A small smile crept to the corners of his mouth as well.

"We should get back to work," he said, pulling away suddenly.

"Alright. See you at the briefing?"

He nodded and they went their separate ways.

Sydney watched as, over the next few weeks, her father and Siobhan grew closer. It started with them greeting one another at the beginning of the day and saying good-bye at the end. Then they began conversing throughout the day, usually about Hamass, but occasionally about personal matters. By the time a month had passed (with Yusef Hamass acquiring more and more sensitive materials) they were eating lunch together at his desk several times a week.

One day, much to Sydney's surprise and amusement, Jack and Siobhan went out for lunch. She grinned broadly at her father as he held the door for Siobhan. He gave her a small smile in return and headed out.

At the small bistro around the corner from the office, they say awkwardly awaiting their food. Jack lightly drummed his fingers on the table while Siobhan enjoyed the view. At last she put her hand over his.

"Jack, if you're not ready to do this . . ."

He cut her off, "I'm fine. I just haven't been out to lunch in a while." "With a woman," he added, mentally. "I usually eat in the office by myself or with Sydney."

"I understand," she said. "But this doesn't have to be any different than our lunches at the office."

He nodded once and asked, "So where did you grow up?"

"North Carolina. Southern belle through and through. We used to watch NASCAR all the time. My dad took us to what's now the Lowe's International Speedway every year. We'd camp in the infield for the weekend, it was great!

"What about you? Where did you grow up?"

"I was born in London, Ontario," Jack hesitated before continuing, "My parents were killed in a car accident when I was six. I was sent to live with my uncle here in the States."

When Jack failed to give more details Siobhan asked gently, "Didn't you get along with him?"

"Oliver Donahue was a hard man to like. He was a bachelor Marine and ran the house that way. He only took me in because of his sense of duty; he was my mother's brother and the only family I had left.

"We never got along. The first day I was with him, he told me to stop crying and act like a man. He refused to call me Jack, my mother's nickname for me. Until his dying day, he referred to me as 'Jonathon' or 'my nephew.'"

"But surely he showed you some affection?"

"The only good thing I can say about the man is that he did instill a love for this country in me. As for anything else, we stayed out of each other's ways and were civil when we had to interact."

Their meals arrived at that moment and Siobhan was able to surreptitiously wipe away a tear that had formed. "I'm sorry. It must have been very lonely for you."

Jack looked chagrinned to have revealed so much to her when even Sydney didn't know. "I shouldn't have said so much. It's not exactly a happy topic, now is it?"

"I didn't mean to bring up painful memories, I just want to know you better."

They were both silent for a moment as they enjoyed their meals, a double cheeseburger with everything for Jack and chicken strips for Siobhan.

"So, what kind of music do you like?" she asked tentatively.

"Classical, classic rock and country. I'll try almost anything except rap. How about you?"

"Country, of course. Classical, some New Age and Celtic."

"What's the last book you read?"

"The Five People You Meet in Heaven, Mitch Albom. So interesting his take on what happens when we die. He thinks we're all connected to each other; one life touches the next."

Jack looked pensively as he chewed on his French Fries. "What about some one like Irina Derevko? How does she figure in?"

"She gave you Sydney, Jack. Isn't that enough to explain why she was in your life?" Siobhan asked, surprised that he's opened up to her.

"She also gave me 20 years of pain and second-guessing myself," Jack's face, which had relaxed from its usual stoniness, hardened with the remembered betrayal.

"Jack, you need to forgive her and yourself if you want to move on . . ."

"We should get back to the office," he cut her off.

As they both stood, she grabbed his hand and said, "When you're ready to talk about her, I'm here. In the meantime, I want to get to know the real you. The one you hide behind the mask of CIA agent; the one I saw a glimpse of today." Then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. She went outside to wait while he paid the bill and they walked back to the rotunda together.

The following week, Jack and Siobhan went out for lunch, again. They agreed to meet in the rotunda, since they were working on separate issues and would be at opposite ends of the floor. Jack was so engrossed in his work that he didn't look at the clock until it was almost too late. Gathering up his things, he rushed out to the rotunda, only to be stopped by Nadia.

"Excuse me, Mr. Bristow, could you take a look at . . ."

"Not now. Leave the papers in my office," he said, tersely.

"But it has to do with Hamass' movements, his associates."

"Let me see it." Jack was unaware that Siobhan was watching this encounter from Sydney's cubicle. "This could be what we need. Do a background check on this man. Find out who else he's been associating with during the last year." He started to walk away, then turned back to say, "Good work."

Jack made his way to the elevator banks and saw Siobhan walking over from the direction of his daughter's cubicle. "Ready?"

"Absolutely."

After they'd ordered, Siobhan stared at Jack, pensively.

"Something the matter?" he asked.

"What did Nadia want? I saw you two talking while I was waiting."

"She had some intel on the Hamass case that needs to be investigated further," he said, tensely.

"Is it hard working with her?"

"Where is that coming from?"

"You just seem uncomfortable talking to her, about her. I can't even imagine . . ."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Nadia is the result of an affair your wife had with your best friend. The working relationship has to be strange, at the very least."

"Irina is dead and Arvin is a fugitive, in the first place. In the second, I would never blame Nadia for the choices of her parents." Jack was offended.

"I'm sorry. It just looked like you were trying to give Nadia the brush off."

"I wasn't, I mean . . . I was, but not like . . ." Jack wouldn't meet her eyes as he continued, "I was in a hurry to get to our lunch."

Siobhan smiled and, taking pity on him, changed the subject, "So how do Sydney and Nadia like sharing the apartment?"

"Fine. Sydney's always wanted a sister and now she has one."

She was surprised to hear the tone of regret in his voice, "Jack?"

"Growing up, Sydney was always creating imaginary friends. I often heard her refer to them as sisters, sometimes brothers. And when we found out about Nadia, she admitted that she'd wanted a sister."

She read between the lines and interpreted what wasn't said. "You wanted more children?"

He nodded and said quietly, but with vehemence, "Nadia should have been mine."

Siobhan reached across the table to take his hand, "You still can be a father figure to her. With Arvin Sloane in hiding, she has no one except Sydney. She grew up in an orphanage, Jack. Despite being a grown woman, don't you think she longs for a mother's or father's love? You could give her that."

Their food arrived and Jack was grateful for the reprieve.

"Just think about it, Jack. Talk to Sydney and see what she thinks, alright?"

He nodded again and their conversation turned to more mundane topics. They were still getting to know one another and Jack was feeling as though he were back in high school. He never had been particularly comfortably in social situations. And he'd only been on a few dates when he'd met 'Laura.'

Oh, he was good at putting up a front of confidence, but he didn't feel that way. Laura had been the first one to really put him at ease. Although, thinking back now, she hadn't seen through the mask; she'd taken him at face value.

"Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright? You seem nervous."

"I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Your hands. They haven't stopped moving since we sat down."

"It's nothing."

"I don't want to push anything. We'll go as slow as you like."

It was a few moments before he answered. "I'm not good with women. And I haven't been on date since college."

"I said it before and I'll say it again, now. I want to know the real you. Just be yourself. You don't need to put up a front with me."

"I'll try," he agreed.