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"Jim?"

Her voice was quiet at his side and he dared to turn at the sound. The hazel eyes were worried, but her posture remained lax in her seat.

"Are you sure nothing happened back there?"

They had pulled back on the motorway, the speed picked up rapidly and they all had given in to the small pleasure found in an open window. The wind hissed in a comforting harmony that had lulled the teen to sleep. The others found no such relief.

If she knew he remembered…no, he was certain the concern would have never been wasted on him.

"I'm fine," he replied with a forced smile. If it had been anyone else, they probably would have bought it, but Lisa saw the discretion in his words.

"I have no doubt of that, but that wasn't the question, Jim." There was no relenting in her features.

A grin formed on his lips over the purposeful response. He looked her over, scanning slowly and she felt herself shiver under the scrutiny. It should have made her uncomfortable.

Jackson leaned closer to make sure the driver was out of range as his lips whispered softly for her ears alone. Secrets in public. One would almost think they were intimate.

In all…he knew it was a Jackson move, but what else was he other than the man she had met that day in the airport. She was letting her guard down, even if only a little, but soon she would realize there could never be any difference between the two men she had met.

"If you would like to know," the touch of his breath lingered on the nape of her neck, the words caressing. "I will tell you, but later."

The woman's body stiffened at the tone. It was too familiar. It was one of those moments where the man and the memory collided in a painful reminder. Part of her condemned the prejudice.

"Okay," Lisa resigned, obliging herself to look at the man as Jim, not Rippner, and he saw the forcefulness.

Jackson didn't pull back then like he had been planning. Instead his gaze traveled down to her lips, the soft pale hue slightly moist, relaxed. That was not the response he had expected. He expected questions, resistance; instead he found nothing but compliance. There was a time he would have savored her obedience.

Jackson sat back into his seat once again with that piece of information the front of his thoughts.

"Don't suppose either of you two mind if we stop for a bite?" They both looked up in surprise at the sudden disruption from the driver. "There's some ruins not far from here, a good ways from the main road. Should be quiet though, away from people or otherwise. Only way I know about it myself is my wife was always into that sort of thing. Came up here a time or two."

"Sounds perfect," Lisa commented with a smile. There would be no objections.

Before long the car veered off the main road, following a vacant two-lane detour. A few turns and dirt roads later the cab came to a stop at their destination. Frank had been right when he said it was away from people.

The trees gave way to open fields lined with dew-kissed green. Fallen blocks of stone lay scattered in the open with only a few stray trees providing cover.

"It's beautiful, dad." The newly wakened girl's voice held a sense of awe, her eyes scanning the area eagerly. They had been confined indoors for far too long. Everyone had.

Frank smiled contently, squinting into the sunlight as he stepped out of the cab. "I think it's the perfect time for dinner, eh?"

No one wasted time following his lead. The sun continued to shine in a brilliance of perfection and a sheet had been spread in traditional picnic fashion. They were missing a basket, but no one seemed to mind.

The canister of white grape juice had been opened; warm, but a sweet, soothing change to the carbonated beverages so often on the menu. A menagerie of canned meats, fruits, and vegetables lay in no set pattern as the group mingled through the much-anticipated treasure. The can opener had never been so loved.

Lisa stifled a giggle at the sight of Hannah's stuffed mouth, while at the same time, spooning in a small cluster of green olives. Jackson smiled at the pair, taking a bite of the peanut butter laden bread in his hand. For just that moment, he could almost forget.

They talked about nothing in particular and no one seemed to mind. Pleasantries, the food, the weather. It was nothing important and yet it was everything they had without delving into the painful reminders of recent days.

Jackson's eyes deviated to the older man. Frank had taken a pair of his cherished fruit and fled to enjoy the product privately. They didn't know how he found the entire case of ripened golden apples, but there were no complaints. In fact everything seemed carefree as they sat in the frozen bit of borrowed time.

Leese. The name was thought on fondly as Jackson watched the woman's lighthearted features.

It was refreshing, to be out without the worry of surveillance, of consequences, expectations. He was cautious of using the pet name aloud and spoiling the moment, yet any time he caught a glimpse of those eyes he couldn't help but remember.

His jaw tensed and he looked away.

"Look over here." Frank interrupted.

It was a casual command and they took their time getting up. When they saw the scene played out before them the world couldn't have been more natural. Everything, the blood, the death, it all seemed too distant to every take hold again. They were foolish thoughts.

Four wild ponies were claiming the field as their own, completely content in their own company. A pair of adults and two foals, ears perked in playful canter. The sound of their hooves could just be heard in the quiet, beating against the damp ground and kicking up the fresh soil.

"Looks like a family," Hannah commented with a smile. One look at the girl and anyone could tell she was lost in her own dreams. The horses themselves paid no mind as they traveled at an easy pace across the brilliantly green field.

"Do you think they're infected?" Lisa couldn't help but ask, bringing them all back to a sense of their situation. If she could have lost herself as easily as the girl, it would have been a welcomed blessing.

"No," the father said with certainty that caused Jackson to wonder just how much of the speed behind his reply was simple optimism for their mission. "They're just fine."

There was nothing to do but leave the herd to enjoy their freedom. Jackson's attention turned immediately back to the woman at his side. It was an opportunity he couldn't let pass.

"Come on, let's walk," he whispered with a tempting smile before turning away from the picnic site.

Lisa didn't resist or even question, instead moving at a relaxed pace beside him. She hadn't even given it a second thought. If only she had been that compliant from the start. But really, hadn't she? Until the minor incident of her father's life being on the line…

He had to admit the scenery was beautiful, creating the perfect impression of calm and security. So unlike everything he had been permitted before the coma and in the days that followed. In his line of work the only security offered was designated by his success in the missions, and the last one had been a complete failure.

It had been over two years since he had last visited his mother and he returned far too late.

Lisa couldn't have known, but it was still very selfish of her. Put a little pressure on someone, and they never consider the risk to people on the other side of the fence.

Once they were some distance away from prying ears he stopped the lead, pausing appropriately at a broken gate. It was a nice enough place, quiet, solitude.

Lisa leaned against it thoughtfully and Jackson imagined a scene from any number of black and white films with a wistful main character. His distaste for Catherine Earnshaw grew.

"I'm sorry," Lisa started immediately as if some signal and been given to allow her the podium.

"There's nothing to apologize about," Jackson replied calmly, intrigued by the destination of the apology.

"Yeah, there really is," Lisa insisted.

She sighed with an attempt at composure, refusing to turn his way. Lisa did her best to avoid his gaze, instead looking out to the field where the sunlight that reminded her achingly of home.

"I never wanted to be like this," she tried to explain. Her fingers felt harder than they should have, as they pressing into her palms in nervousness. "And it hasn't been right, that I've been taking it out on you. If I don't say something about it now, it's just going to keep bothering me."

Jackson let the corner of his lips turn up just enough to be mistaken for a smile, "From what you've told me you have reason. And look at us, walking along on a Sunday afternoon, alone."

Incredibly alone. The girl and her father were turned away from the couple and it would be easy enough to get out of sight entirely. All it would take was one move…

So here she stood, ignorant once again in her moment of contentment. In a strange way he was reluctant to pull her away from those thoughts.

But he did, "And I'm still not dead yet so I think there's some improvement there."

Lisa looked at him then, her eyes quiet in a way he hadn't seen for some time. It was tempting not to reach out and touch the skin of her cheek. Was it as smooth as he remembered?

"Is it Sunday?" She questioned and he recollected himself.

"I don't know, actually," Jackson replied, leaning his back against the wood. He smiled as he looked away. What are you doing, Jimmy boy? "Feels like a Sunday, doesn't it?"

Nothing wrong with a little conversation.

"Yeah," Lisa agreed with little earnest. "I just…I want more, you know? More than just getting by the day. I always did," she explained with a hint of embarrassment.

More than sleepless nights and days in mediocrity? He was certainly curious.

"But I guess I kinda suck at it."

Was it that she was embarrassed with admitting it to herself, or to him?

"I don't know, I'd say you aren't off to a bad start." Jackson's remark drew an instant glare and he smirked. "Well…taking away the 'end of the world' element."

"So says the guy with memory loss," she teased.

Jackson resisted the laugh, but the smile was genuine. This was the Lisa Reisert he knew.

"Losing the memory doesn't mean a loss of wits," he feigned insult with a furrowing of the brow. "…and I'd like to think I'm still doing well in that respect."

Thinking on it, she couldn't help but agree. Memory or not, the man had common sense at least. Or perhaps it was just dumb luck. In any case there were times, he would get that look in his eye like maybe, perhaps, there was something even more.

Lisa tried not to dwell on those thoughts for long. He was on their side for now, that was all that was important. He was charming, even. If things weren't…if he hadn't…well, she wondered. And she would leave it at that.

"Yeah, you haven't done too bad," she agreed with that quiet smile that had been adapted over the recent hours. However, she let it fall and her eyes bled into his, questioning, pleading for a lie. His lips tightened under the scrutiny.

"Do you really think it's the end of the world?" Lisa asked.

Jackson looked away. What could he say? No, because the end of the world has come and gone and we're already basking in hell's fury? So many people dead, painfully, unmercifully. He had killed enough himself, and arranged even more than that, but never without a purpose.

This: everything around them, was chaos, and he hated it.

He saw the girl again a distance from where they now stood, all smiles as she made a joke and her father laughed. It wasn't a restricted laugh but whole-hearted, loving. Despite everything that man kept hope for his little girl, giving her the world to the best of his ability.

Bad things always happened, and somehow Jackson always found himself envious of the good ones who could make lemonade. He didn't like the drink much himself, but was it really so impossible to learn how to make the most of life?

"If you had asked me a few days ago, the thought had crossed my mind," Jackson answered truthfully, never taking his eyes from the remains of the family. "But no. Take a look at those two."

Lisa turned and rested her back against the fence in a similar manner, following his gaze as he continued. "As long as there are people like them, good people, in the world, it will be just fine."

It was easier to tell a lie when you believed it yourself.

If she was satisfied one way or another, he couldn't tell. The next question was one he hoped she had forgotten, but was expecting. "What went on back there, earlier?"

His eyes fell to the ground. If he looked at her, he was certain she would see. He could feel it even now, the way she exposed him in spite of his efforts. "At the station?" He kept the tone neutral, evading.

"You've seemed, I don't know, tense since then."

Jackson did look at her then, with a disbelieving raised eyebrow complete with a smile. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we're trying to avoid being attacked by people who have gone stark-raving mad."

"You know what I mean." Her voice was quiet, but at least she didn't carp him with a roll of the eyes.

Jackson didn't know if it was her tone that urged him to make the rash decision to tell her the truth.

"It was something I was glad you didn't have to see. It was a massacre of sorts," he began to explain with visions of dried blood and the haunting smell of death. He could tolerate it, but Jackson never claimed to take any sort of pleasure in those situations. "But not by the infected. Just another example of what a normal man is capable of."

"I still wonder," the woman began, chin raised in a manner he knew oh too well. She was trying to convince herself she was strong and in control. Even now. Especially now. "…what you are capable of. I still can't help but worry, what's going to happen when you remember."

If only you knew, Leese.

"Why's that?" Jackson questioned innocently.

She had already explained the basics, and none of it was pleasant. Did he have to persist? Halfheartedly she answered, "We didn't part on the best terms."

"Oh, right," he smiled in mock remembrance, pushing away from the fence to stand. The man swallowed his bitterness with ease as he motioned to the scar. "The pen."

"And my dad shot you," Lisa added with reluctance, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He found it oddly endearing.

"Oh. Is that all?" he remarked with a sarcastic mirth in his tone, his lips turned up with a curious smile. The woman was talking about it, willingly, and he was all ears.

She smiled back, about to respond when Frank's bellowing voice interrupted the moment. He was apparently comfortable enough to not worry about being heard.

"It's getting late." The pair looked over to see the man had begun pulling supplies from the cab's roof. "We should camp here tonight."

Jackson motioned that he had heard and plastered on a gritted smile.

"Great, a campout," he muttered quietly. Jackson's hands went into his pockets, annoyed at the disturbance, even more at the news. It made sense, he couldn't deny, but he had never enjoyed the outdoors much and by their positioning, it was overall too exposed.

By Lisa's tension, she felt similar. Regardless, she came to the older man's defense, "Look around us, Jim. Better out in the middle of nowhere than in the middle of the city after dark."

"Note taken," he agreed. "But I still don't like it."

He could hear Lisa sigh quietly as she began to walk away in an effort to help. Somehow, it didn't seem right to leave things at that point. He wanted to explain it to her, needed to explain it to her, and he didn't stop to ask himself why.

So instead, he just took Lisa by the arm, pausing her steps for just long enough to listen. She didn't pull away at his touch, instead curiously scanning his face with those green eyes.

"Lisa," he started. But what could be said without giving everything away? He was an honorable man, if little else, but she would never listen to such a plea. She was as blind as everyone before her. She was no different. So why was he bothering?

"I would never be capable of that. Never what I saw in there."

He was close, strangely close in a way that made her heart flutter defiantly. It was wrong how comfortable the nearness of him made her feel. It always had, for all the danger he once posed.

Once?

She was a fool if she thought the day wouldn't eventually come again. And yet, for this moment, she realized she just didn't care.

"Okay." There was that simple response again, trusting. It confused him and she could see it in his eyes.

He released her arm and she smiled, turning away again. They had work to do before dark and she had the feeling that getting to sleep would take some effort in itself.

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