A/N: Okay, so sorry for the delay in updates for this story. RL was insane. I've had intruding work, a vacation and a sick cat that sadly died. I've come back to the story & decided that I hated what I'd written and scrapped the other chapters 14 & 15 I'd completed and started all over again after having a nice long think. I hope you like it. I'm hoping some cool feedback can jumpstart my muse in the direction of Jericho because she's been pre-occupied with an original scifi work of mine of late.
Disclaimer (casual): I totally don't own Jericho or any characters from the show. This is just my toybox & the only things I own are my own original characters.
Title: Afterburn (Chapter 14/?)
Chapter 14: What You Wish For
Cheyenne, WY...
Both Heather and Marc were thrilled to finally be off the helicopter when they'd landed at Cheyenne Regional Airport. A special section had been allocated to J&R contracting groups and people entering Cheyenne under special circumstances. Heather and Marc disembarked, bags in tow and followed the signs into the terminal along with everyone else who'd arrived. Heather noticed that Marc had been far less talkative than he had been and wondered why. He seemed to be deep in thought and preoccupied but she'd no idea why. The list she carried was still in her pocket and she knew that with each passing minute, she was that much closer to having to read it and deal with the knowledge.
They arrived at a gate which was serving as a checkpoint. There were security officers checking the paperwork of incoming people and searching their belongings before they could go on to the next point and eventually pass through the gate. All of it made Heather feel a bit apprehensive but she did feel better that Marc didn't seem so put off. They moved through the queue pretty efficiently and for that Heather was grateful. She heard an officer call for the next person and Marc stepped forward.
The officer looked at him while he scanned his identification, "Welcome back, Mr. Jennings."
"Thank you" Marc replied stiffly, catching Heather's notice.
She also noticed that though he'd handed it over, his paperwork wasn't even glanced at. The officer simply slid the unopened clear plastic envelope through the window to the other side for Marc to pick up. Heather was ready to step up with her information in hand for review when Marc turned to speak to the officer.
"She's with me."
Heather looked at Marc wondering what he was doing and then at the officer.
"Of course, Mr. Jennings" the officer replied with hardly a cursory glance of Heather and slid her envelope through the window as well.
Heather walked through the scanner with a raised eyebrow but said nothing. She was simply grateful that it was over with as she glanced back at others in line being thoroughly searched and some even being taken off into rooms with "Interrogation" on the doors. She fell into step with Marc and they continued on down a corridor.
"What was all that back there? He didn't even check my papers."
"Being a Jennings. Sometimes it pays off and I get to do decent things for friends" Marc replied with a shrug.
"Well thanks. This is all kinda' creeping me out" Heather admitted as they reached the end of the corridor.
Signs showed the way to go for the general public to follow and a glass wall showed the processing area below in which people had to be further approved before being officially allowed into Cheyenne. There were easily a thousand people in the room and it looked like the process was a long and arduous one. High on each wall was a large LED board with streaming news headlines and also a display of which numbers were being served next in various areas. The controlled chaos would have been something that Heather found interesting under different circumstances but now it only seemed intimidating.
"Whoa" she managed as they looked down on the scene.
"That's wild" Marc concurred as he looked upon the scene, taking notice of physicians attending to people seeking entry who were in need. It reminded him of the work he'd left back at Camp Liberty.
"Well, I should get going. Possibly I'll be processed through by some time next week" Heather joked.
"Oh there's no way you're going through all that. Seriously. That's ridiculous" Marc said turning from the view to Heather.
"But..."
"No arguments. Come on" he replied to her protest and tugged lightly on her sleeve.
The two headed off in the opposite direction and Heather noticed that the sign marking the corridor read "J&R Corporate" as they went. She still felt a little apprehensive accompanying Marc through such an official area but she didn't say so. She hadn't looked forward to spending any time in that processing area and was keeping her fingers crossed that Marc's idea would work out.
"Damn" Marc muttered as they continued down the corridor.
"What's wrong?" Heather asked as she looked around.
There were other J&R employees in front of and behind them but and she couldn't distinguish really between them. So much had happened that Heather was never quite sure any longer which people were safe and which were not.
"The suits are here" he replied and looked down with a sigh.
"Who?" Heather asked as the anxiety rose in her and looked around.
But before Marc could answer her, she noticed a group of four approaching them. Three men and one woman. All were clad in black, tailored suits and projected general intimidation. They strode in unison and their faces held expressions so placid as to be disturbing in their unreadability. She didn't like the look of them at all and glanced over at Marc to see if he was going to give a cue that they should turn and run.
"Mr. Jennings, we've been expecting you. Welcome back to Cheyenne" the woman said as they met up.
Heather noted that she was striking with black hair and porcelain skin. She moved with a fluid grace that seemed more dangerous than feminine and held her head in such a way as to be defiant or maybe it was confidence. Either way, Heather wondered if she should be feeling unease or alarm and what it meant if that were intentional.
"Thanks, Delia. I was wondering when you guys would show up" Marc said not breaking stride and not leaving any space between he and Heather.
"Well, you know we try to be about our business" she replied as she and her group fell into step with Marc and Heather.
"Yeah" Marc said, " This is my friend, Heather Lisinski."
"Of course. Hello Ms. Lisinski. Welcome to Cheyenne.
"Thanks" Heather managed and decided to speak only when spoken to as the situation she was in the middle of seemed to have not only history but also a certain level of animosity.
The fact that she was now flanked by one of the men didn't make her feel any more at ease, especially when she noticed his gun holster through his blazer. She also noticed that their pace had picked up and she was feeling like she and Marc were being herded along. Marc's expression remained unreadable under baseball cap and hoodie with sunglasses, especially as he kept his head down. Just the same, his body language told Heather that he wasn't pleased at all.
Delia led the way down the corridor and stopped at a door that was almost completely concealed. She pressed a spot on the wall and a retinal scanner presented itself. Once she was scanned she opened the door and stepped inside followed by the group. Once they were inside and the door closed behind them lights lit the way down another corridor. Heather assumed this must be a VIP section as the carpet below her feet felt far too plush for regular use and the air was not the same recycled from the terminal but fresher and even slightly scented with lemongrass. She marveled at the fact that after a veritable apocalypse, aromatherapy still carried on. It was such a luxury and stark contrast to the life she'd lead for months that she could only wonder at what other surprises Cheyenne held.
Their pace had slowed slightly but was steady enough as to be purposeful leaving Heather to wonder where they were going.
"So, my father knows I'm back" Marc said flatly as they continued on.
"He does. He's instructed us to take you wherever you'd like but it'd be optimal for you to head directly to the residence" Delia replied.
"Fine" was his only response as they reached a set of doors that led outside.
Three black SUVs were waiting for them in a private hangar with additional security. Their presence left Heather feeling not so safe or secure as she wondered why Marc, let alone any Jennings needed such measures employed. It was another reminder that the world they all inhabited now was rife with danger, distrust and necessary preemptive measures.
A young woman, Heather judged to be about her age, opened the door for both Heather and Marc to enter one of the SUVs. She closed the door and climbed into the driver's seat as her passengers settled behind her.
Heather noticed the young woman watching Marc in the rearview mirror as he removed his sunglasses and hood.
"Back to normal, then?" Heather teased.
"You've no idea" Marc replied with a slight smile.
Neither spoke much on the trip to the Jennings estate. Heather took note when Marc pointed out certain points of interest like the J&R Corporate Center and the construction taking place in the new Federal District. Heather was astonished at all the construction and Marc by the rapidity of it. He didn't think he'd been gone very long at all but he recognized buildings that were at the groundbreaking and early construction stages were now complete. Cheyenne was quickly remaking itself into a metropolis and none too soon as the number of people in the city and surrounding areas was ever increasing.
When they finally arrived just outside the city limits on Wildflower Drive both Marc and Heather were a bit overwhelmed with all they'd taken in. The Jennings property was immense and immaculate and as they passed through a secure gate and up a tree lined grove, she thought of oases in the midst of the desert.
The SUVs came to a stop at the house and their driver opened the door.
"It's beautiful. Like a haven in the chaos."
"Like the eye of a storm?" Marc asked and took her bag.
"No. I didn't mean it like that" Heather said with a laugh. "It's just tranquil. Everything seems so far away from this. Like it's impervious."
"A word oft used to describe all things Jennings" Marc replied as they stood in front of the main house. "Thanks for the ride, Staci. Perfectly smooth as always" he said with a smile and nod to the driver.
"Of course, Mr Jennings. Just the way you like it as always" she answered with a sly smile before climbing back inside the car and heading for the garage.
Marc tried not to show his surprise at what she'd said but Heather saw it anyway and shot him a smile at the innuendo.
"History?" Heather asked once they'd stepped inside.
"Hook up" he admitted with a wince.
"Ah. I see" she replied as she took in her surroundings. She realized that the foyer in which they stood was not just large but so well appointed that she was almost a little intimidated about what else was to come. She followed Marc as he led her through to the hall. As they passed through she was sure she'd seen the tapestry on the wall in one of the art texts she had in college.
"So now you think I'm a creep."
"No. I think you're a guy" she said with a smile.
"Are you using that as a pejorative?" he teased feigning concern.
"No! Just stating a fact. No judgment."
"Why do I feel like I want to explain myself you?" he said coming to a stop near a staircase.
"Hmm... guilt?"
"Maybe a little" he admitted with a laugh and when she smiled, he knew it was also because she reminded him of his sister too.
"So this is the crossroads. Your choice. Will you take what's up the staircase or go through door number 2?" he asked and gestured to each alternative.
"Um..." Heather contemplated her options noting that just beyond the doors was an azure pool with sunlight tripping across. "Door number 2?"
"As you wish" he replied with a smile and led the way. "A much better choice. The main house is a bit formal and frankly unwieldy, in my opinion" he opened the doors and pointed across the way, "But the pool house... has always been the place to be."
Heather stood behind Marc and took in not just the pool house but also the expanse leading up to it. She wasn't even sure how large the pool was as it curved and went on to a place that was beyond her view. The walkway was a mosaic of colors which she was sure revealed a perfect pattern from above but it was so vast she was unable to make it out while standing on it. The pool house seemed to her to be large enough to serve as a single family residence unto itself. She noted that it was actually larger than her own bungalow back in Jericho.
"I don't need that much space."
"There's very little about this place that's based on necessity. Besides, this'll give you something you've not had since you were back home" Marc said as the two continued on.
"Yeah, what's that?" Heather asked
"Privacy."
Jericho, KS...
Emily walked through town taking in all the activity. Since the arrival of the military, Jericho had been undergoing massive infrastructure reconstruction. She noticed employees from the electric company working with military electricians over plans and was very happy to see them. Hot running water was at the top of her list of things most wanted but she knew that the Green house was in a sector that was at least a three weeks away from that. She had laughed to herself at the irony when she'd heard that her home in The Pines was to be restored this week. She'd wondered if it'd had anything to do with the fact that Gray & a number of Jericho's most influential citizens lived there. She'd resigned herself to lukewarm baths for a bit longer but took solace in the fact that the bed she now shared was warm and cozy.
That she always awoke in the morning to find Jake's side of the bed empty was bothering her. She was worried about him and hadn't been able to find a way to make him smile or laugh. Worse still, he didn't seem to want to talk about how he was feeling about his father's death or his mother's departure. She watched him walk as though weighed down and he didn't seem to want to be unburdened either. He didn't talk to her, at least about things that were important. He was almost entirely consumed with the tragedies and plights of everyone else in the town without consideration of his own. And while she could see how others would consider it somewhat noble, she found it dangerous and misguided. And even so, there wasn't anything she could do about it.
As she reached the Green home she climbed the stairs and went inside. The house retained all the familiarity of the same place she'd remembered from when she was younger. Her time in this space had always felt too short and she'd craved more and wished to be on the inside because it seemed all so special. It dawned on her as she stood in the living room that it hadn't been the house after all. It'd been the people... the family, that she'd longed so much to be a part of. But now it was fractured irreparably.
Emily turned and walked back outside and headed toward her house in The Pines. She knew she still had some gasoline in her garage somewhere because Roger had been so prepared a person. She needed to fuel up her car and take a little trip. Because more than anything else at the moment, she needed to see her father.
Cheyenne, WY...
After Marc had given Heather the grand tour of the pool house and handed over a set of keys to her, he'd headed back to the main house. He was tired and wanted to change his clothes. The house was quiet as he walked through and up the stairs toward his room. It was far too quiet and reminded him that Shannon hadn't come out to Cheyenne as their father had requested for an impromptu family trip just before the bombings. She'd given Marc a million reasons why she wouldn't when he'd called to try to persuade her. Their conversations about the subject always ended the same way, with her accusing him of having taken their father's side over their mother's and him slamming her with his annoyance that though she was elder, she needed to grow up. His only solace now was the fact that their subsequent phone tag messages for one another were peaceful and apologetic. If not for the ability to make up by voice mail, Marc knew their last comments to one another would be something that plagued him even more now. In much the same way the last conversation he'd had with his mother replayed in his mind. He hadn't been mean or wrong but he wished he'd apologized to her just the same. He pushed the thought out of his mind once again and sighed.
"Not now" he told himself as he continued down the hall and opened the door to his room.
He wasn't surprised to find everything just as he'd left it when he walked into his bedroom. A stray sock lay on the floor and provided the answer to a question he'd asked many weeks ago when he'd unpacked his bag upon arriving at his first assignment. He bent over, picked it up and chuckled while tossing it on his bed.
He dropped his bag on the floor and kicked it under his desk to be dealt with later. He picked up the remote control and turned on the flat screen television on the wall. The news was on and it was just as good as any other noise to him. He just didn't want the place to feel like a vacuum. He tossed the remote on the bed and headed to his bathroom for a long awaited shower.
After his shower and getting dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, Marc finally felt relaxed. He'd forgotten how much he'd missed truly hot water and decent soap. He fell back on his bed and looked at the television. There were updates about death counts and injured that raced across the bottom of the screen in a continuous loop with other blurbs about politics, weather and much to Marc's surprise, celebrity news. He stopped listening to the people reading the news and just watched the images go by.
Heather was more than grateful for the hospitality Marc had extended to her. She'd anticipated having a room to sleep in but nothing near the extravagance she found herself in. She was surrounded by blond wood, glass and white with accents of Mediterranean blue. She almost expected to find a beach nearby albeit man-made. Marc had told her that she had full run of the space and not to worry about a thing and make herself completely at home, but she still slipped off her shoes when she decided to tread on the white carpeted stairs leading to the second level.
She chose the smaller of two bedrooms and unpacked the few things she had and put them away in the wardrobe. She took off her jacket and the folded paper fell out onto the bed. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands before laying it down on the table next to the bed.
"Later" she told herself.
What she needed now more than anything was a shower. When she found that there was hot water that produced actual steam she smiled at the luxury and tried to recall the last time she'd felt the sensation. The body wash in the shower smelled like a perfect day on the beach and she couldn't believe anyone still had anything like it so long after the bombings. She wasn't the most girly of women but she appreciated a pleasant scent and personal toiletries as much as the next woman. Such things weren't a necessity but they were welcome when one could get them.
She felt energized and a bit relaxed when she'd finished. She dressed in the J&R tee shirt and sweat pants she was given at Camp Liberty along with socks and shoes and decided to find Marc. She was glad that he'd been more like himself when they'd arrived but she wondered why he didn't seem terribly enthusiastic to be home. One thing was clear, it wasn't just his assignment or termination of it that was bothering him.
She walked out past the pool and entered the house through the kitchen. It reminded her of an English country house and she noticed that the kitchen was pristine. Tones of cream and muted metallics blended into a subtle landscape that warmed in the sunlight streaming in from the windows. She noticed that it was in ways not at all like a kitchen. Most of the appliances were so concealed that they didn't appear as their function, their form was equally important. She found it inviting and cozy and not at all like the kitchens she was used to as she walked through. The Sub-Zero was clear enough but the armoire next to it surprised her as not a cabinet space but instead an additional refrigerator.
"My thoughts exactly!" Marc announced as he entered the kitchen.
"Hey! I was just..." she stammered about to explain.
"Wow. You're not seriously going to apologize for raiding the refrigerator are you?" Marc asked and leaned back on the door of the Sub-Zero.
"I just don't want to overstep any boundaries" she answered with a slight shrug and noticed bottles of Coke on the second shelf.
"Fair enough. You can stay here but you can't eat. Go find yourself a soup kitchen in the city and get yourself sorted!" he teased and reached over her head to grab ice cream.
Heather chuckled, "Okay. Fine. I get it."
"Well there's one thing" Marc said seriously.
"What?"
"You're not getting any of this ice cream. That's where I draw the line" he replied with mock seriousness.
They laughed and had a good raid of the kitchen. When they'd finished they sat back and looked at the remains of their binge.
"I can't believe we ate all this" Heather said as she looked over an empty plate of carved turkey slices and swiss cheese alongside assorted condiments and bags of potato chips and tortillas.
"We really did" Marc said with his head down on the counter as he looked into one of the two empty ice cream cartons he'd devoured.
"I think this was the best meal I've had in ages. I can't remember the last time I had actual turkey" she said and started to separate the trash from what was left.
"Ditto" Marc pulled himself up, took the trash and tossed it.
"Thanks again."
"No problem" he replied and noticed her attire. "You know you can't go around like that, right?"
"Like what?" she looked down wondering if she'd spilled something.
"In J&R issue clothes. At least not in Cheyenne. They're pretty anal about the clothes and who wears what."
"But it's all I have."
"I think we can fix that. Follow me" he said while turning on his heel and walking out of the kitchen.
"So, what? You know fashion?" she asked, catching up with him.
"No. But I can get you a tee shirt and jeans that'll most likely fit until we go downtown."
She followed him down the hall to his room, taking note of the art as she went along.
"You live in a gallery" she marveled.
"My father has a deep appreciation for art and my mother had a deep appreciation for spending money and impressing people. I think both would be pleased with your statement" he replied with no malice and opened the door and entered.
Heather followed behind and lingered in the doorway. She looked around and noticed the wall that was a bookshelf. It looked as if it could swallow up his bed at any minute. Just like everything else in the house, Marc's room was large and well appointed. Heavy mahogany and cherry wood furnishings were complimented by the plush plaid carpet underfoot. The word baronial came to mind but she found it far too formal for Marc. Especially when she noticed the gaming system controls lying haphazardly at the foot of his bed.
"Just a sec. They're here somewhere" he called from what looked to Heather like another room but she realized was his closet.
"Take your time" she called and came further into the room.
She was standing next to his desk and noticed his pictures among textbooks and his Fall class schedule at the University of Washington School of Medicine in Seattle. There were pictures of him with a man standing together on a yacht and smiling. She supposed that was his father as they had the same blue eyes and smile. Another picture, black and white in a silver frame, was of a beautiful dark haired, dark eyed woman who's expression reminded her of the Mona Lisa. Heather truly couldn't tell if it was a smile or a smirk. Either way, she looked like she could possibly be old enough to be Marc's mother... maybe. The picture adjacent was of Marc and a young woman sitting on a sofa in front of a window that showed the Manhattan skyline. Heather assumed she was his sister. She wore almost the same expression as the woman in the other picture.
"I knew it! Here it is!" Marc called and walked out of his closet holding a red tee shirt and a pair of jeans. "For you."
"What are you doing with these? The tags are still on."
"See, I can tell, you're thinking cross-dressing... but, no. One, they're too small for me and two they're not my style" he quipped.
"Is there a three?" Heather teased while trying to suppress a laugh.
"Once upon a time, I had a girlfriend and she loved to shop. She shopped so much that she sometimes didn't get around to all the things she'd bought. And she tended to leave things here when she came over."
"Thanks. I'm gonna go change."
"There are scissors in the medicine cabinet if you need them" he called behind her as she went into the bathroom.
When Heather emerged she was amazed, "They fit... perfectly."
"Excellent. I thought they might" Marc replied while checking his email as he sat on his bed.
Heather walked back over to his desk and picked up a framed picture of Marc with a petite blonde, "Wow. Is this your girlfriend? She's adorable."
He sighed, "Ex. Girlfriend. Trish Merrick."
"Oh. Sorry" she winced and set the frame back down on the desk.
"Don't be. It's one of those classic cases of boy meets girl. They fall in love. Girl rips boy's heart out and eats it for breakfast. Boy can't get over girl. You know, typical" he said with a shrug & self-deprecating smile but she could see the hurt underneath.
"But at least you aren't dwelling on it."
"No. No more than 23 out of 24 hours a day."
"As little as that?" she teased and sat in the chair at the desk.
"Yeah. But her existence in my life is serving you well now, so it wasn't all for nothing" he said, indicating Heather's attire. "So what's your story?"
"My story?" she asked
"Yeah. Who is it for you?"
"First of all, what makes you think there's anyone? And what makes you think all isn't well?" she asked as Jake crossed her mind.
"For one thing" he began and set aside his laptop, "you're smart and forgive my being a typical guy here, you've got a hot, quirky think going on. That there's no one else who's noticed that would suggest that Jericho is populated with only gay men and even then, they'd have to be blind and deaf not to see that in you."
Heather laughed and blushed at the compliment.
Marc continued, "And if all were on, you'd have found a way to get back there, no matter what Hoffman said. You're determined like that, at least I've observed you to be."
"Okay" Heather acquiesced, "There was kind of someone, but nothing much ever really came of it."
"See? I knew it. Why not? Is he stupid?"
"No. He's not stupid. Not at all" she began. "I think our timing was bad. And... we're just very different people."
"'Cause "very different people" have never gotten together" Marc commented with a feigned nod of understanding and a smile.
"It's complicated" she said realizing that she was no longer sure that she was right about what she'd said on that road when she and Jake had parted ways after Black Jack. It seemed like years ago instead of months.
"Isn't it always?"