Sorry this chapter is a little late. Had been recovering from a back injury as well as other goings-on. But better late than never...right?
"You used to call me paranoid...pressure; but even you cannot avoid...pressure," Lester sang melodramatically as Jeff jammed out the melody on his keytar. Jeffster was getting ready to perform in a few days at the Buy More's annual Slash Sale. It was not only a huge sale on certain items, but there were to be multiple contests and door prizes, as well. Big Mike had finally given the okay for Jeffster to perform, but they needed a song. They had scratched out "Don't Bring Me Down" by ELO, "A Horse With No Name" by America, and "Ashes to Ashes" by David Bowie. Jeff thought they had finally found the perfect song with "Pressure" by Billy Joel. Together with Lester, it sounded fantastic. However, there was one snag at that moment. She was sitting on her sofa across from their makeshift stage in her living room.
"So? What do ya think?" Lester asked after he had finished.
Jeff looked over and noticed Gloria was playing listlessly with the hem of her shirt. "Gloria?"
Suddenly, she jumped and looked up at them. "Oh! Yeah...yeah; that was...great, guys. You were great as Elton John."
Lester clicked his tongue impatiently. "That was Billy Joel. How could you not know your John from your Joel?"
"Joel...Joel. I knew that. You know what? I'm going to make some tea. You guys want any?" she stood up quickly and hurried into the kitchen.
"What is wrong with her, Jeff? She is totally ruining our mojo," Lester whispered.
Jeff knew that she was worried ever since Chuck had informed her that Blackwell and his sidekick had escaped from prison. It had been a week without incident, but Jeff knew she was upset over that and the fact that everyone had been smothering her.
"I need to stay at my place, Chuck; I can't continue living with you, Ellie and Awesome," she had told him after he had insisted she stay with him.
"I get that you want that, Gloria; really I do, but-" Chuck had interjected. Jeff had offered to let Gloria stay with him, as did Lester, albeit a bit too eagerly. Those suggestions were quickly shot down quicker than Old Yeller.
"Chuck, I love that you want me to have protection twenty-four seven, but I don't need you or anyone else to save me, okay? I can't always live as the damsel in distress!" she had cried before storming out. Jeff, Lester, and Chuck looked at each other and shrugged. None of them quite understood what she was talking about. Most damsels liked to be saved, but not Gloria.
"Oh, great; now you're spacing out on me," Lester barked, jerking Jeff back into the present.
"Sorry."
"Tea's ready!" Gloria called out happily before snapping her fingers. "Oh, shoot. I forgot something. You guys stay here and enjoy your tea and I'll be back in a jiffy. Gotta go...run an errand really quick."
"But-" Jeff called out, but she was already halfway out the door.
"You didn't give her any of your 'special' juice, did you?" Lester asked when they were alone.
"No. But maybe she could use some," Jeff responded before making a face. "I hate tea."
"Well, then whaddaya say we take a look around, huh? Let's just see if Gloria has any kinky fetishes hidden deep within her boudoir."
Jeff looked at him for a minute before following his friend in a mad dash upstairs.
"Exactly how many women's bedrooms have we been inside?" Jeff asked as they reached her room and opened the door.
"Without permission? Tons, Jeffrey. One day, we might get invited, but until then, this is how we roll."
The two of them walked inside and found that it looked decently neat. Only a few things were out of place, but Jeff could tell from Lester's face, he was disappointed there was nothing silky or lacy lying about. Jeff walked over to her full length mirror and saw that several photos were taped around the edges. Jeff noticed as he looked at one from high school, that even then, she enjoyed wearing baseball caps and vintage t-shirts.
"Ugh. Even then she voluntarily shackled herself to Bartowski," Lester noted distastefully.
Jeff walked over to her bedside table where a box of tissues sat atop some papers and envelopes were stacked. "Ah-choo!" he sneezed and reached for the tissues. "Oops," he said when he accidentally knocked the box off the table, as well as some papers.
"Well, well, well; what have we here?" Lester asked as he rushed over to pick up a newspaper clipping. "Girl Rescued From House Fire By Good Samaritan", he read the headline.
Jeff looked over his shoulder as they read the article in silence. "Lester, maybe we shouldn't be in here," he said finally after they finished reading it.
"Y-yeah. Let's go," Lester agreed as they quickly folded the paper and placed it back with the others.
As soon as they got back downstairs, Jeff felt a mix of emotions tug at his heartstrings. As he looked at Lester, he knew he felt the same.
"Did we really just read that article or was it some sort of tea-induced illusion?" Lester asked. "What happened to her was bad enough, but what kind of father-foster or otherwise-would say those things or let them go to print?"
"Makes my parents throwing pineapples at me seem like nothing," Jeff added. But it all makes sense now why she doesn't like to be rescued.
John Casey was cleaning one of his many assault rifles when he heard a knock at the door. Growling audibly, knowing it was probably Chuck or another pesky neighbor, he begrudgingly answered the door. The person on the other side was the last person he expected, however.
"Gloria?" he grunted, thinking she had seen Blackwell or his goon.
"Hi, Casey. Sorry to, uh, bother you without calling first, but I just needed to ask you a question."
He noticed she looked nervous, biting her lip and wringing her hands. "Yeah. Come on in," he told her.
She gingerly walked in and looked around, noticing all the ammunition on one wall in the next room. "I see you've decorated accordingly," she smirked before turning around to face him. "Okay, so I'll make this quick. I wanted to ask you because, well, you're a spy and I know you won't ask me a million questions like Chuck would, so here goes: do you think it's weak if you need rescuing?"
"Huh?" Casey found himself saying aloud. What on Earth would make her ask such a question? And to him of all people. "I think Sarah would be a better person to ask, don't you?"
"Casey, please," she begged, sounding desperate. "I'm asking you. Do you think it's weak for someone to need rescuing?"
Casey looked at her as she sat down. He could tell that this had been plaguing her for a while. "No, I don't. Everyone needs rescuing at some point. Whether it be from a hostage situation or when fifty Swiss militia army members have you surrounded."
"O-kay," she responded slowly to his answer. "So have you felt helpless or weak when you have needed Sarah or Chuck to rescue you?"
"Who says they have had to rescue me?" he asked, a certain bitterness in his tone.
Gloria said nothing but her eyes said it all. She knew the truth.
"Alright, fine. Do I wish that I could've been able to handle the situation myself? Hell yeah. But truth is, I know Walker and...Bartowski have my back if I'm in trouble. It goes the other way, too. It happens. You just gotta learn from it. Why do you ask?"
Gloria habitually reached up to where her necklace used to be and looked down. My foster parents-who I recently learned were CIA-felt I was weak and helpless because of a...situation that happened when I was a teenager. I nearly died and someone had to rescue me. It's haunted me ever since, but not just for what happened. It was what my foster parents said afterwards. My father said 'Gloria; I'm very disappointed in you. You showed weakness and cowardice when you let that strange kid rescue you. In this family, we don't need saving. We save ourselves; so you need to stop allowing others to come to your aid. You don't need anyone else but yourself to survive. I'm ashamed that you let us down. Foster child or not, you have betrayed our legacy'."
Casey was floored. Not only at what her father had told her but that she imitated her father's voice as she quoted him. "He told you this? And hopefully in a better voice."
"Word for word," she replied softly.
"Well, no disrespect intended, but your father is an ass. You gotta get that man out of your head. He's arrogant and cruel because he feels he has a reputation to uphold. But you are your own person. You shouldn't feel ashamed to ask for help. No one should." Casey felt his blood boiling at the thought of anyone saying that to a young girl. Just what kind of father was he? Did he agree to foster Gloria out of pity or was he hoping she, too, would become a spy?
Gloria stood up and hugged him, much to his surprise and annoyance. "Thanks, Casey. Don't tell Chuck or anyone that I talked to you about this, okay?"
Casey nodded, still feeling the ghost of her embrace. As he watched her leave, he realized how truly messed up her childhood must've been. Chuck had told him certain parts, like the fact she lived in constant fear they would place her back in foster care, but he had no idea they put so much pressure on her growing up. "Someone else had parents like that," he said aloud. "Oh, yeah. Patel's parents," he recalled a few seconds later with a shudder.
"Okay; favorite movie," Morgan announced before taking a drink at Bennigan's. Morgan had agreed to come after work with Lester, Jeff and Gloria since everyone else had other plans. Chuck and Sarah had a date and Ellie and Awesome wanted some alone time. But as bummed as he was at first, seeing Gloria feel more like herself made him happy. And it seemed to have affected Jeff and Lester, as well. Morgan had almost forgotten that they could occasionally be fun.
"I know Gloria's," Jeff wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. "Dirty Dancing."
Gloria threw back her head and laughed. "Wrong! I said I liked dirty dancing-as in the Lambada."
Lester smiled wickedly. "Ooh, show us what you got, mama."
"You wish. My favorite movies are as follows: Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, Megamind, and Robocop."
"You are a worldly woman of film, there, Gloria," Morgan laughed. "A B-movie, a CGI movie and a blow-em-up movie of the nineteen eighties."
"What can I say? I'm deep," she grinned. "Okay, I have one; favorite female singer. Lester, I know yours. You adore Tina Turner."
Lester snorted as Morgan snickered. "What? I do not!"
Gloria rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Every time you hear her on the radio or see her photograph, you drool worse than Jeff when they show off the new female mannequins in the window display of Bloomingdale's."
"Those mannequins are smokin' hot. Even without genitalia," Jeff said, his eyes glazing over.
Lester moved his chair further from Jeff and Morgan took a long drink of his beer. Gloria just put her hand over her face and shook her head.
"I think that deserves another buffalo wing," Gloria said, reaching over to the large basket in the middle of the table.
Morgan watched as Lester did the same and their hands brushed. Gloria instantly pulled hers away but Lester's hand hovered in place. In fact, Lester completely froze, but his cheeks flushed somewhat. Usually, Lester would have made some sort of uncomfortable and inappropriate comment, but he continued to sit perfectly still, his eyes locked on his hand. "Lester? Are you okay?" Morgan finally asked.
"I gotta go to the-I'll be back," Lester suddenly stuttered, jumping up so quickly, he knocked his chair over.
Morgan looked to Gloria who just smiled uncomfortably. "When you gotta go, you gotta go, I guess."
"I guess," Morgan repeated but if he didn't know any better, he would think that Lester was beginning to fall for Gloria. He had known Lester a long time and he had never seen him act this way. Both Jeff and Gloria were clueless but Morgan knew something was going on. Something very strange yet wonderful yet painful. After all, Gloria had already expressed little to no interest in Lester romantically. Whatever he was feeling for Gloria, Morgan feared Lester would just wind up with his heart broken. And by Jeff's own half-sister, nonetheless. Meaning the worst possible scenario: Jeff would have to choose between Lester or his half-sister.