A/N: I think it's been less than 10 hours since my last update so thanks to KLCtheBookWorm for reviewing the last chapter. :)

It's not really clear where Fairview in DH is located but for the sake of this fic, it's close enough to Massachusetts to be able to drive over. ;)

JACK MCNORRIS

Jackie Boy slipped into the pub and silently cast his eyes over the huddles of rowdy boozers watching the Patriots game until he spotted the man he was looking for in a dark corner. Jack glanced up at the score, muttered under his breath, and made his way over to Kerry Fitzpatrick.

"Ol' Jackie Boy," said Kerry, a hint of relief evident in his voice. "How are you? And Sarah and the kid?"

"We're good, Fitz," said Jack, taking a seat next to his friend. "And you?"

"I'm great," Kerry replied. "Why don't I get you a drink?" Without waiting for a response, Kerry left his seat and made his way to the bar, returning a few minutes later with a big glass of beer. "Plenty more where that came from, Jackie Boy," Kerry assured him.

Jack clicked his glass against Kerry's. "So it's been a while, huh. How is life at City Hall?"

Kerry nodded gingerly and took a long sip of his beer. "Well, as you know, I'm running for Mayor against Smith at the upcoming election." He took a paranoid glance behind him. "But I'm screwed, Jack," he continued in a voice barely audible above the commotion of the Pats fans. "You know Teddy G, right? He saw me with some whore from the Combat Zone. My career's gonna be over, my marriage, I'm gonna lose the kids…"

"Teddy G, that son of a bitch," Jack sneered. "What goes on between a man and a woman is their business." He sipped his beer. "Listen, Fitz, I knew Ted in school; we go way back. Why don't I pay him a visit? Have a little heart to heart. Make him understand."

Kerry blinked. "You think you can talk him out of ruining my life?"

Jack smiled at Kerry's apparent naivety. "Leave it to me. That's what friends are for."

When Kerry Fitzpatrick became Mayor, the first thing he did was appoint Jack McNorris as Supervisor of Public Works. Content to operate behind the scenes, Jack's real job was based on loyalty to his friends and their friends, taking action, and getting results. It was a role that fit him like a glove.

Now, some four decades later, Jack found himself sitting in a rental car in Fairview with a whiskey bottle in his hand, concerned for the first time in his life about someone he was about to "fix". Jack exhaled heavily, took a swig, and closed his eyes.

Less than a week ago he had been on a flight from Los Angeles to Boston. With his eldest son seated to his right, it was almost like driving through town with David Francis when he was a boy. Except that Jack's son was now a grown man living in California who had traded his Red Sox jersey and baseball glove for an expensive suit and a bulging file, and of course, they were on a plane instead.

"Would you like some wine, sirs?" A beautiful air hostess stopped beside them with a trolley. Jack could feel his mouth beginning to water.

"No thank you, we don't drink," said David Francis flatly.

Jack glanced behind him, a faint smile touching the side of his mouth when the air hostess moved on to the next row. "I thought you might've tried to keep her around a little longer. She's stunning."

"Pop…"

"I mean, since you blew it with Marian and all…"

"Pop, please," said David Francis in a strained voice.

"Alright, alright. What is this anyway?" asked Jack, leaning towards him. "Is this all about Davey Dash?" He picked up an article headlined "Fairview man won't be charged in accident that killed two".

"Pop, he's not well, okay? It might not be a good idea to get too attached to the idea of some sweet little family reunion…"

"He's not well and he's my son, David Francis," Jack retorted. "My son! Maybe you'll have kids of your own someday and then you might understand."

David Francis opened his mouth as if to say something, closed it, and smiled sardonically. "I'm sorry, Pop. I'll do what I can, okay? I promise."

Jack McNorris had steadfast beliefs in what it was to be a man. A man was resourceful. A man knew how to fight. A man provided for his family. Most importantly, a real man didn't cry. Certainly not in front of other men.

That commandment flew out the window when he laid eyes on Tina Williams' son. David Francis had warned him that "it was like staring into a mirror" but Jack was still frozen and gobsmacked by the uncanny resemblance between the grown up Davey Dash and David Francis. David Francis' hair was a shade darker, Davey Dash was a little more haggard, but there was no question where both sons had inherited those piercing blue eyes.

"I… know you," Davey Dash suddenly blurted. "I saw you with my mom when I was a boy. I didn't know you were…"

"I'm sorry, Dave," said Jack, as gently as he could muster. "I'm sorry I seduced your mom and I'm sorry for not being a father to you. But I know Tina and Larry both loved you very much."

Dave Dash was quiet for a moment, before nodding slowly. "Mom and Dad were good parents. I'm sure you would have been too." He looked up and tried to smile for the first time. "We've all made mistakes. Your son taught me that." He walked over and took Jack's callused hands. "I forgive you, Mr McNorris."

Jack began to weep openly and swallowed hard. "Call me Jack."

They shook hands, hesitated for a moment, then embraced, before Dave gestured for him to sit down.

"So, what has… 'David Francis'… told you about me?"

"Well, I know you lost your family in terrible circumstances…" said Jack, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment and receiving none.

They sat across the table from each other in silence until Jack – reasoning that Dave had been sedated to the point of numbness before this meeting – found the courage to ask: "What's the story with this Delfino guy?"

Dave froze. "Mike Delfino? Well, he was one of my neighbours on Wisteria Lane." Dave smiled weakly. "He owes me free plumbing."

"I read an article about the car accident he was in with your wife and daughter," said Jack, watching Dave carefully. "I don't know much else."

Dave stared at the ceiling, any traces of an attempted smile vanishing from his face. "I wanted him punished," he said softly. "I blamed him for taking Paige and Lila from me."

"What did you do?"

"First, I took Mike and his girlfriend Katherine on a camping trip," Dave replied, almost casually. "I was going to shoot her. To make him feel the pain I suffered." He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. "I missed. We went home. I had an argument with my new wife Edie. She stormed out and drove into a power pole and was electrocuted." Dave opened his eyes again. They were wet, but otherwise blank and dazed – the drugs, Jack supposed. "Susan, Mike's ex-wife came over and told me she understood how I was feeling because she'd killed a mother and her child – Lila and Paige – in a car accident, and let Mike take the blame for her."

"What happened then?"

Dave blinked, as if suddenly remembering that Jack was there. "Well, Mike and Susan have a little boy, MJ. I decided to take him and Susan camping. Mike… He found out what I was up to and wanted to sacrifice himself instead." Dave gulped visibly and rubbed his eyes. "So my new plan was for MJ and me to die when Mike collided with my car, as Susan watched by the side of the road." He smiled self-loathingly and his voice cracked. "But I couldn't do it. I just looked at MJ and saw Paige and I couldn't do it." Tears slipped onto the table. "I just couldn't kill that little boy."

Jack cleared his throat and leaned over and patted Dave on the arm. Of course he couldn't do it. How could any son of the temperate Tina Williams possibly hurt anyone, let alone a child? No, Davey Dash could never have been a Fixer. He was far too motivated by his heart.

Dave wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. "It all gets a little hazy after that. I made MJ get out of the car before I ran into Mike. He survived; I think I remember him yelling at me before the ambulance arrived. I remember cops talking to me. I remember doctors. I remember being dragged here." He looked up forlornly at Jack. "Then I remember meeting your son. And you." He sniffed and dragged up another feeble smile. "The crazy thing is, Mike's probably one of the best friends I've ever had," he murmured, almost to himself.

"David Francis will do everything he can to get you out of here a free man," Jack promised.

Dave snapped back to the present. His steely gaze met Jack's and a slow smile spread across his face. "I know, Jack," he replied. "I know. He's a Fixer, like his old man."

Jack started to chuckle, inappropriate as it was.

That night in David Francis' hotel room, Jack confronted his son with a simple request. "You've got to get him out of there."

David conjured up the sulking expression of an eight-year-old before replying: "It's got nothing to do with me."

"You're just going to walk away from your brother? It could be you in there!"

"Pop, what the hell do you want me to do?" said David Francis. "He is a murderer and an arsonist whether we like it or not… That's why we have experts to assess him and not Fixers…"

David Francis was right; he had completed his responsibility.

Jack knew what he had to do.

Early the next morning, Jack kissed his sleeping wife and left her the longest note he had ever written. He hired a rental car, packed a few bottles of booze into the glove compartment and under his seat, and embarked on a road trip.

Jack's phone rang half a dozen times on his way to Fairview. He ignored it until he was well across the border, then checked his missed calls. They were all from Sarah. He put his phone away. The less she knew the better.

As he studied his map, Jack's phone began to ring again. He sighed and glared at the phone. David Francis. Jack decided to answer.

"Pop, where the hell are you?!" David's voice blasted. "Mom's worried sick!"

"Finally decided to visit her, did you?"

"She called me. She said you left her a suicide note."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "It's not a suicide note, David Francis." At least, I don't think it is. "I just needed to take some time out to clear my head. A week at the most. Tell your mother I'll be back before she knows it." He hung up before David could answer, frowned pensively, and then dialled another number.

"Hello?" The voice was distant but unmistakably familiar.

"Fitz, it's Jack McNorris."

"Ol' Jackie Boy!" exclaimed former Mayor Kerry Fitzpatrick. "What can I do for you?"

Jack paused. Even before he became the Fixer, Jack had understood the importance of separating your heart from your duty. Even so, there were a couple of lines he had never crossed, and beating up women was one of them.

Men, on the other hand, were all fair game. Jack licked his lips, thinking of all the favours Kerry must owe him by now. "You still got that old house up in Fairview?" he asked.