Writer's Note: Thank you for all your fantastic reviews. :) Sorry about the delay in the update. I've been pretty preoccupied with college stuff, but I've got all my classes set, so now all I have to do is find a job, buy books, and show up in August. xD And, of course, finish this story.


"Renee?" Jack calls from down the hall.

I'm in the bedroom, curled on the bed with my feet tucked under me, reading a book. I look up. "Yeah?" I say.

"The furniture from New York is here."

I scramble up and pad down the hall, my book forgotten. "Need help?" I ask.

Jack flashes me a grin. "Just in arrangement. No carrying." Although my wound has been giving me only minimal pain of late, he still insists that I take it easy. Being babied was – is – driving me to smoke, and I told him so…to which he just got that sullen look with his lips pursed flat, and he said in a calm voice, "Fine. Damage your muscles, then." He'd put no dare on the table, used no sarcasm or pointed tones, but I got the picture, and he was right. Is right.

I don't have to like it, though. "Okay," I agree, wrinkling my nose at him.

He puts a hand on my arm and kisses the nose I just wrinkled at him. "Thank you," he says simply.

"Where do you want the table set?" one of the movers asks. He looks young to have such a manual and poorly-paying job, but I suppose kids in college will do anything to keep putting themselves through for their degrees. That line of thought reminds me of the jobs I'd had to keep myself in college – planting trees, digging trenches for construction sites, waitressing, and my more favored jobs, stocking cans in the local grocery and filing papers in the D.A.'s office.

"Kitchen," Jack says, nodding. The boys nod and lift the table with muffled grunts. Jack disappears into the hall after they come in, and brings in the two chairs.

"You don't have to do that, sir," one of them protests. "That's our job."

"Don't worry about it, kid," Jack says. "I never like to stand around uselessly. Not that standing around in itself is useless," he's quick to add, probably seeing the dark cloud over my head striking lightning at him. "You're telling us where to put all this, remember?"

"Hmm. Nice save," I say grudgingly.

The college boys hide grins behind their hands as they hightail it into the hall for the bed. A moment later, they're carrying in Jack's queen-sized mattress. "The bedroom's in the last room on the left, down the hall," I instruct. As they make their way down the hall, I peek out into the hall.

Jack ordered more than the bed and table set. There's also the nightstand and his T.V., and the T.V. table and various electronics that go with it, a couple of lamps, and some more boxes. As if our apartment weren't full of boxes enough already.

I size up the nightstand. It's tall and square. I put my left arm around it – it's the perfect size for what I have in mind. I hug it onto my hip and try to lift it.

Jack fills the doorway, arms crossed. I sigh on my next exhale. "You're not going to be able to lift that one-handed," he says. "Even I need two hands to move it."

I lift go of it and sigh. "Fine. What can I do then? – and don't say 'show us where to put stuff,'" I say. "I know that you know as well as I do where things are supposed to go."

Jack picks up a box. "You can carry this."

"What's in it?" I ask, taking it.

"Pillows."


Although I was initially annoyed with my limitations, I knew Jack was right to keep me away from the heavy stuff. Especially since the strain from carrying a few boxes – the rest a little heavier than pillows – caused my wound to slightly burn in protest. Once the furniture was in, Jack paid the movers to take Kim's spare twin back to her house.

"Looks like we've got a lot to do," Jack says.

"Yeah," I agree. The number of boxes had fairly doubled.

"Where do you want to start?"

With a cigarette, but I don't say this. I smile. "Let's start with the bedroom. I've kind of missed that bed."

Jack grins. "I've missed it, too."

"You would – you've been in a sleeping bag for the past week."

"I didn't mind."

"I know."

"Well, let's get to it." He takes my hand and we go down the hall.

The bedroom's in no better condition than the rest of the apartment. "Pick a box, any box," Jack jokes. He grabs one and uses his key to open it. I meander to the bed and look over one of the boxes placed haphazardly on the mattress.

"Uh, wait, not that one."

"Why?" I ask. "What's in it?"

"Old high school memorabilia, yearbooks and such. You're not allowed to look at it," he says with a serious look on his face.

"Well, why not?" I say incredulously.

"You'll realize I'm too old for you and head for the hills." He grins, but he looks like he's only half joking.

I snort. "I know exactly how old you are. You're only fifty-two. You are not too old for me." He give a "humph," and I walk over and hug him from behind. "Hey, you're ten times the man people half your age are," I say. "Besides, I'm hardly a spring chicken myself."

"You're thirty-eight. That's a fifteen year difference." I'm about to refute that point when Jack covers my hands with his, pressing them against his abs, and says, "I just…my love life went south years ago…when I was thirty-eight, in fact. I'm old and I'm getting older. I've made mistakes, and I'm going to make more." He turns in my arms and lightly grasps my hips. "You've already agreed to look past my last mistake, even if you haven't forgiven me for it. I guess I'm just wondering when you're going to realize what a waste of time I am."

I give him a hard look for a moment. "Jack, the last time I said something as incredibly stupid as that, you said to me, 'We really are perfect for each other.'" I smile. "Well, Jack, we really are perfect for each other."

Jack's mouth opens into the slightest of "o"s – more like an olive shape, really – and then he closes it, and kisses my forehead. "Okay, you win," he says, mimicking exactly my words from that day.


After two hours of unpacking, the bed is made with fresh sheets, the furniture is all exactly where it should be, and most of our clothes are in the closet. And I'm lying back on the bed, thoroughly tired with my wound starting to do that slight throbbing. It's going to snowball if I don't deal with it, so I sit up with a groan, resolving to find Jack's Tylenol. I don't want to finish those painkillers Dr. Shaw prescribed for me. I'm still taking the antibiotics, and thankfully it hasn't gotten infected, but the pain isn't severe enough to warrant such strong drugs, and I don't want to get addicted.

Not to something else, anyway.

Magically, Jack walks in with a glass of water, and a cupped hand that I just know is holding something that'll make the pain stop. "Want these?" he asks, holding out his cupped hand to me. I look, and it's neither Tylenol, nor the prescription drugs, but Advil.

"Yes," I say, surprised. "When did you get these?"

"When I was out grocery shopping the other week," he says, dropping them into my hands. I take the glass of water and wash them down. "I remembered from your last period that you prefer Advil for strong pain, so I grabbed some then. I noticed you've been off the painkillers the doctor gave you, and when you looked so pained, I figured you'd appreciate some relief."

"I do. Thank you."

"Do you feel like lunch? Kim wants to bring something over."

"Sure. Did the bed get back to her place okay?"

Jack nods. "They just finished putting it back in the guest room. Kim wants to bring Teri, too. Is that okay?" He looks thrilled at the prospect of seeing his granddaughter.

"Of course," I say. It's not a lie to make him feel better. Kim and her family are welcome any time – well, within reason. I wouldn't want them walking in on us having sex or anything… That would be more than a little embarrassing for all involved.

"Great." He gives me a tender kiss and then steps back, a smile on his face. "I'll give her a call and let her know. If she leaves in ten minutes, she'll be here around one."

I'm tempted…so very tempted…to go out for a smoke, but the choice is between doing that or sitting back and waiting for the Advil to do its job. It'll only take about half an hour for the Advil to work, but by the time it does kick in, Kim'll be here. And I'm not really interested in greeting her with cigarette breath.

After lunch. I'll get through lunch. I have to. Then I'll smoke.


"Grandpa! Renee!"

The sound of Teri's adorable four year old voice puts a smile on my face. Teri runs to Jack first, reaching out in the universal child's "pick me up" signal. He does, swinging her around with a bitten-back grunt.

Kim follows closely behind her, smiling at me as I close the door. She puts down the bag she's carrying. "Hi Renee." She hugs me gingerly, like I'm a glass doll. "How's your wound?" she asks when she steps back.

"It's better. I don't need the sling and Advil is taking the pain away, so…" I shrug.

"Good," she says emphatically.

"Renee, you're all better!" Teri says, reaching out from within Jack's arms.

Jack steps closer and I put my hand against hers. My hand totally eclipses hers. "Yep, all better," I say.

"Will you hold me?"

Jack swings her around again, out of my reach. "Not today, sweetheart," he says. "Renee's better, but she's not okay enough to lift you."

I roll my eyes – I wasn't going to try to hold her. Kim notices and muffles a giggle. Jack sets Teri down and Teri stands in front of me with the quizzical look of a toddler. After a moment, she says, "She looks okay to me," then shrugs, and wanders off into the apartment.

"She must be the smart one in the family," I comment. This warrants a playful whack from my man, and more chuckles from Kim.

"Well, I brought Mexican," Kim says, picking up the bag.

"I'll set the table."

I move toward the kitchen, but Jack puts a hand on my shoulder. "I'll do that," he offers.

"I can handle a few plates, Jack," I say.

"I know you can." He takes the bag from Kim. "Why don't you two go hunt down my granddaughter? We haven't childproofed the place yet, so who knows what she's gotten into." Kim groans and looks over the couch first, before moving down the hall.

I give Jack a knowing smile. "You win again, Mr. Bauer," I mouth. He smirks. And he has won – one battle in the war of preventing me from ever lifting a finger. It partially annoys the hell out of me, but…in a way, it's really sweet. I follow Kim down the hall.

Kim found Teri in the master bathroom, where the little girl had enthusiastically started going through a bag filled with cleaning supplies. "Gotcha, cutie," Kim says, lifting Teri into her arms. She turns to me. "I hope you don't mind that I came into your bedroom," she says as an afterthought.

"Not at all," I say. "The door was wide open, and finding Teri is more important than a little bit of privacy."

She bounces Teri for a moment, then says, "Dad really likes you."

I smile at that slight understatement. "I think he does, too." I look around and cross my arms. "Lunch'll get cold." Turning, I intend to lead the way back to the kitchen when Kim stops me with a word.

"Renee."

I turn, suddenly a little nervous. "Yes?"

"I know something bad – really bad – happened between you and my dad the day…" Her voice trails off, her gaze dropping to the girl in her arms, pointedly. "Stephen won't tell me what it is, and the last time I spoke to Dad, he said he wanted to talk to you before telling me anything." She rushes to add, "I'm not going to ask you to tell me about it, but I just wanted to say…whatever happened, thank you for staying, for Dad. I know it means the world to him, and after Mom…Audrey…he deserves to be happy."

"I agree." I let a meaningful pause trickle by, and then say, "Lunch?"

Kim smiles. "That sounds good."

"Lunch!" Teri exclaims, not having paid attention to a word of our serious little talk. Kim and I share grins over the girl's head, and walk back to the kitchen.