On a Dark Horse-22
Timeline: Bombs + 29 (morning - evening)
Warnings: A little raunchy humour, but nothing worse than prime-time sitcoms.
Disclaimer: Jericho is not mine. Never was. Isn't now. Won't be, not even if I manage to hit the lottery. Not writing to infringe upon copyright, etc., but to indulge my own daemons. My only form of compensation is reviews…please?
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Several men were sitting around the table, getting ready to face the day. Jonah walked in, alone. He was not surprised by the knowing smirks that were sent his way. The ventilation system tended to carry noise from one section of the "bunkhouse" to another, even though they were on different halls.
He simply raised his eyebrows and went for the coffee. One of the things they'd been able to trade for with Hayes was coffee, since the town warehoused coffee shipments for the Western region of some famous coffeehouse with a cutesy name. Jonah didn't care about the fancy preparation, so long as it was dark and strong. The standard breakfast was laid out, scrambled eggs, some form of breakfast bread, some form of potatoes, and today, sausage. For the lighter eaters, particularly Skylar and Aylah, there was a bit of fruit and some cereal with fresh sweet-milk from the Richmonds. There was buttermilk for the others, and it had already been checked for radiation by Bonnie. Everything was okay, so far.
He walked over to his usual seat and sat down, his full plate enough to carry him through to dinner, if it had to. Sometimes he didn't have time for anything at midday. Jonah wasn't exactly vain, but he had managed to gain a little weight in the past year. These days since, combined with the irregular eating habits he'd developed, had quickly trimmed him back to his previous size. Some of his jeans were well over ten years old, but they still fit. Those were the dress jeans, mostly, but there were one or two pairs of shop jeans that had managed to hold up.
No one commented on what they'd heard from his room, but the men weren't stupid. It wasn't long until Jake and Mitch walked in, though, having left their respective bedpartners to shower and dress, but they'd only gone at the women's request. Mitch hadn't left until Emily had threatened to move back to Skylar's room permanently, and he'd left with a promise she'd regret the threat. Jake hadn't left Heather until after he'd enjoyed a long shower with her and she had refused to move from under the warm spray.
When the two younger men walked in, seven of the eight men present rose and gave them a loud, long standing ovation. Several catalls ran through the room. Mitch flicked the group off and went straight for the food, which did not in the least surprise Jonah. Jake's lack of initial response, not even a blush, did. When the younger man had gotten a cup of coffee and turned, leaning against the counter, Jonah could see the smug smirk on his face.
"The sound of jealousy," he said to the room, lifting his coffeemug. He was far too relaxed to get irritated over something he'd heard more than once in his life. Granted, the first time, he'd blushed, which had made his buddies razz him that much more, but after that, he'd learned to deal with it.
Of course, that first instance had been in a hangar at Embry-Riddle after a particularly wild aerobatics lesson with a gorgeous professional pilot who'd come in as a guest lecturer. Between her comment on the open-mike during a particularly difficult combination he'd managed in the air without losing control of the plane or changing altitude or attitude when the move was over, specifically "Good hands, Green," and their delayed exit from the plane - for technical reasons, alas - he'd earned his handle, "Good Hands Green", which was much better than the other suggestion "Plane-Rocker". He hadn't run around much after he'd left Jericho, and granted, he'd run around without Emily a few times after he'd come home from flight school, but every time he hadn't been in his own room, he'd managed to get this kind of morning greeting. A few times, it had been accompanied with getting chewed out by his direct superior for "screwing stupid".
Mitch, on the other hand, wasn't shy or easily embarrassed, but he was well aware that Emily's father was in the room. And that Emily would be joining them soon. For his own sake, he hoped the guys weren't stupid enough to repeat their introduction. He knew Emily's temper well, and even though she'd been smiling from his wake up, he'd managed to piss her off almost immediately. Then again, he was used to pissing her off. He'd been doing it for well over ten years.
Jonah was curious how the women would respond to the same kind of welcome Jake and Mitch had just received. Well, Heather and Emily. He did not want to know how Aylah would respond, but he was willing to bet it wouldn't be good. Light footsteps were heard in the hall and eyes were glued to the door, anticipation in the air.
Skylar stepped around the corner, a tired, irritated expression on her face. It wasn't that she minded mornings. It was that she hated mornings that she had things to do and no sleep the night before. She paused as she realized every eye in the room was focused on her.
"Don't look at me," she snapped. "I was in no way responsible for the excessive decibels." With that, she turned and saw Jake next to the coffeepot. When he raised his eyebrows at her, she flashed him a false smile. "I would ask if you slept well," she said sweetly, "but I already know the answer, along with a lot more that I never, ever wanted to. And you're between me and the caffeine, which is not a good place for you to be right now."
Her eyes in no way matched her tone of voice, and Jake managed to keep from laughing at this tiny girl threatening him with implied bodily harm if he didn't move. As amusing as it would be, it wasn't worth it.
"Be nice," Jonah murmured from his seat as she picked up her favourite coffemug, one that had a snarling blue monster on it with the caption 'No It Is Not A Good Morning. Go Away.' She poured her coffee and turned to Jonah.
"I am," she replied, staring her guardian in the eye. "I said nothing about rabbits or other livestock, mating alleycats, the need for gags, or inconsiderate assholes who need to get laid often enough that it's not a broadcast event." She pushed away from the counter and ignored the muffled coughs and outright laughter of the guys. It was going to be a long breakfast. She didn't notice Jake choking on his coffee or the dark look Mitch gave her.
Jonah grinned, enjoying the girl's spirit and outspokenness. She'd probably end up hearing it again, but hopefully not at such volume.
"Invest in earplugs, brat," he said, making the others chuckle. He didn't hear what she was muttering under her breath, but apparently Leon did, since he was turning an interesting shade of red and nearly choking on his laughter.
It was into this scene that Aylah, Heather, and Emily strode, the sway of their hips, the contented-cat expressions, and the looseness of their gait making it clear to everyone that these women were very well-pleased. Not that the issue had been in doubt.
Aylah walked over to Jonah and slid her arms around his neck, something she'd not done in the time the men had known her. They watched as she bent her head to his ear and whispered something, eliciting a chuckle from the boss.
Heather walked over to Jake and tiptoed to give him a long good-morning kiss.
"Good morning to you, too," he said when she pulled away. He didn't know what surprised him more, that she was willing to be so demonstrative in front of men she'd be working with all day, or that she was so unconcerned about their comments. When he looked at her, he saw that she was still floating. The answer was none of the above; she hadn't come down yet. He handed her a coffeemug and the cream Bonnie had dropped off early in the morning.
Bonnie had taken over the dairy, such as it was. She'd done a research project for her senior independent study about pre-Pasteurization dairy practices. That had turned into a county-fair demonstration later that year and had been more useful than anyone could have imagined. With the Geigers to check the raw milk each morning, the town had plenty of butter, cream, and even buttermilk and sweet-milk. It was cool enough that they didn't have to worry about storage yet, but soon they'd have to figure out how to store everything. Meanwhile, Bonnie had become an absolute fanatic for sterilization, since the straining cloths and all of the equipment used in the diary had to be kept absolutely pristine. Even the floor was scrubbed down daily in the workhouse. And everyone appreciated the results of this labour-intensive project. Heather particularly appreciated the cream, since she took her coffee almost white.
Heather filled her cup and wandered dreamily over to the makeshift buffet. Eyebrows raised as they saw the sheer amount of food she piled on her plate. Billy murmured to D'Shea and Leon that she must have had a helluva workout. Heather didn't notice. She sat down carefully at the table near Jonah and dug in.
Emily went for her food first, then to the coffee. When she walked over to Mitch, he waited for her greeting.
"Gonna move over?" she asked, sliding her plate into place beside him.
His eyes slid over her, a knowing look making her warm from anger and lust. He drug it out long enough that her eyes were narrowing and the set of her mouth promised fireworks if he didn't concede the space to her. He did not want to wear her morning coffee, especially when she was vindictive enough to dump it straight in his lap.
"Oh, just sit down already!" Skylar snapped from the other end of the table. "Christ," she muttered, "and I'm considered the child."
Emily sat down, irritated with everything and everyone. And she sat down too quickly, which resulted in a small squeak that couldn't be classified as infuriated. She glared at D'Shea, who was grinning too loudly and the other men who were trying not to laugh. Deciding that she would ultimately lose this battle and that enduring their amusement would go further with gaining their forgiveness for the things she'd said a little over a week ago, she didn't bother to reply, just picked up her fork and started eating.
Jonah watched the interplay between the men and women at the table. Some things, like Skylar's temper, were obvious. Others, like Heather's oblivion and Mitch's apparent calm, he didn't trust at all. Aylah's joke about setting the cats loose around the pound had been entertaining, especially since the men tended to respect the lines for those who were involved with each other. They'd give each other hell, they'd tease the women who wouldn't take it too badly, but they'd keep their hands off. None of them would bother Aylah, since no one was willing to cross her yet. Jonah smiled around the rim of his mug. Her nip at his earlobe had been more than unexpected and rather gratifying.
Conversation began as they ate, most centering around the day's activities. Being a rather salty group, several comments containing double-entendres were tossed around the room, and only Heather looked at them blankly. Jonah wondered if she really was the woman who'd made all of that noise the night before. From Jake's solicitude, he figured she must be. But how could she miss that one?
Finally, the women finished their breakfast and stood up. They took her plate to the sink, having finished breakfast in good time. Heather alone made it a point to say goodbye to her man. She walked up behind Jake and gave him a hug, complete with a kiss on the cheek. Then she half-bounced, half-undulated out of the room behind the swinging gait of Emily and Aylah and the sharp, quick steps of Skylar. Heather paused at the door long enough to call back to Jake, "See you tonight, Good Hands!" and flash him a huge smile.
The dead silence that followed that comment caught Jonah's attention. When he looked down the table at the more vocal of the commentators, Leon shook his head. Jonah looked at Noah for the explanation.
"She's just so darn cute, Boss," Noah explained for the rest of the men.
Jonah sighed. Emily, they could handle. Aylah, they would leave alone. Skylar, they would treat like his adopted daughter, which she was. But Heather? Only that lethal combination of knowledge, skill, and innocent enthusiasm could get his own personal Peanut Gallery to shut the hell up. Why hadn't she shown up years ago, when he really needed the silence?
No one saw the wicked smirk on Heather's face as she strode easily to her part of the garage for the day. Sometimes, it was just too easy.
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The men filed out of the room shortly afterward, each going to his assignment for the day. Mitch was scheduled to teach a few people how to handle the larger trucks today, so he had a few more minutes before his duties started. He'd prepped the trucks the night before. Mitch wasn't stupid. He knew that Jonah would have something to say to him. An audience was not required or desired.
"Lotta noise," Jonah said, eyeing the man who'd driven his daughter wild the night before. He'd long ago given up on the idea that his daughter was an innocent. Hell, she'd been using her room, or Jake's room, here since she was sixteen. That didn't make it easy to listen to, especially at an unusually loud volume, but at least the men had been in easy reach and under his thumb.
Mitch was quiet. It wasn't time for him to speak. Jonah would get to the point in his own time.
"You hurt my daughter-" Jonah began.
"And you'll kill me," Mitch finished, confident that he knew where Jonah was going with this. He was surprised when Jonah shook his head and smiled. It was a rather unpleasant smile.
"Oh, no, Mitch. I'll be very careful to make sure you live."
Mitch felt his stomach roll as Jonah rose from his seat and walked out, the soft words hanging in the air over him.
Holy shit, what had he gotten into now?
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Later that day, Jonah had the time to check in on the newbies in Emily's group. He watched as she moved carefully, showing the teens how to remove the components of a brake assembly. She wasn't moving with her customary quickness, and it was well into the afternoon. When she set the kids to individual work, monitoring them as she separated out her demonstration piece and put them in carefully labeled bins. The kids would be adding to each bin as they worked.
Emily felt someone behind her, and turned, not knowing if it was Mitch or not. She heard the squeal of tires outside and a muffled crunch, so she had a split second to realize it couldn't be Mitch before she finished the turn and saw Jonah watching her. She was getting warm and the cuffs kept falling over her hands, so she had pushed the sleeves of her shirt back to her forearms. She smiled tentatively at her father.
"They're doing good, Dad," she said, making the effort to bridge the years of spite she'd given him. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
"Good," he said, his eyes fastened on her wrists. Blue eyes, the same shade as her own, snapped up to her face and stopped at her lips. Her lip gloss had worn off during the day, and the bruise Mitch had raised on her lower lip was showing. So was the bite mark at the join of her shoulder and neck. She leaned back against the table, waiting for some other response. This was not what she'd expected from one of his random inspections of his territory.
"He hurt you?" she heard, the voice that asked quiet with leashed emotion. She stared at her father, not understanding what he was saying.
"What?"
"The bruises, Em. The bite marks. How much more?" Emily was shaking her head, closing her eyes. He had it all wrong. And how did she tell him she'd liked it all?
"I'm fine," she began, her voice soft to defuse his temper.
"I'll fucking kill him," Jonah snarled in response, now certain that Emily had been on the receiving end of real violence. The turned and started for the door to the driving range.
"No," she said, grabbing his arm. "He…" she swallowed, looking her father in the eyes as soon as he turned to glare down at her. She leaned back again, her hand still wrapped around his arm. "He didn't do anything I didn't want," she whispered, the tone of her voice and expression in her eyes telling him that she was not lying. He could always spot a lie from her, even if she didn't know it.
"What?" he said, blinking.
"Turns out I like it rough," she shrugged, a wry smile stretching her lips. "Who'da thought?"
Jonah shook his head. "Ever since you and Jake were sneaking into eachothers rooms out here you've never been hurt." At her startled look, he snorted. "Please. Why do you think you had the bunkbeds and Jake had that ancient wrought-iron thing? If you were going to take the risk, I was damned well going to know about it."
"And you didn't threaten to kill him?" Emily asked, staring at her father in shock.
"Not when you were around to hear it," Jonah admitted. He sighed. At least he wasn't blushing. "Look, Em, what you do is your business, but if anyone hurts you…" His voice trailed off and his jaw tightened as he remembered a young girl who looked so much like the woman in front of him had at fourteen.
"I know, Dad. I won't let him." She relaxed, letting go of his arm. "I've avoided admitting it for years, but I'm too much your child to just roll over. And Mitch won't roll over either." She took a deep breath, "And I haven't forgotten about Roger, and I still love him, but…he's not what I need. Want, well, seems I do want Mitch, but I need to have someone who will fight with me." She broke off then, shaking her head. "Maybe I'm more screwed up than I thought." She stared down at the ground, wondering if she was terminally mental.
Jonah shook his head, pulling her into a hug. "Nah. Just hurt and starting to recover. Life's a bitch, Em. You know that."
"Yeah," Emily said, with a shaky, almost tearful laugh. "And she bites."
"Yeah," Jonah agreed. He hadn't been a good father; he knew that. Never had enough time with his kids to be a real father to them. Jake had said that years ago and repeated it recently during an argument they'd had, but he'd ignored it. He felt it now, and every year that he'd been missing from their lives. Chris would never get the chance to see him like this, but maybe he could manage some sort of decent relationship with Em. As her friend, maybe, more than her father, even though he'd never lose the protectiveness he'd felt from the day she'd been placed in his arms.
He let her go and stepped back. She smiled at him, a watery little smile, so apparently he'd done the right thing. He didn't want to think about it, but maybe Aylah was right. Maybe he did need to work harder at letting Emily know what he thought and felt about her. Something in him dreaded those conversations, so he put off thinking about them a bit longer.
"Looks like one of the kids needs you," he said, noticing a boy standing up and holding a crescent wrench awkwardly. It was time for him to go. He had another meeting with Johnston today, anyway.
Emily glanced over at the boy and pushed away from the table. "See you tonight, then, Dad," she said, turning to walk to the boy.
She didn't hear him whisper "See you tonight, Emmykins" before he turned away.
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"It's settled then," Johnston said, taking control of the meeting again. "Jonah will start gathering supplies for the trip to Rogue River as soon as he gets back to his office."
"It'll take about three days to get supplies ready, let everyone who's on the list get chores done and prepare for a long trip. We may even be shuttling things back and forth several times, so the working security group will be needed, too." He paused. "We have no idea what we'll find, so we want everyone to have at least one weapon on them. We leave in four days, in the early morning."
"Define early," Serena Givens asked, noting the date on her pad.
"Three a.m." Eyebrows around the table shot up. "We'll reach the town in an hour and a half, so we'll have early morning light to start our search. All day, coming back only when we're loaded down."
Heather had attended this council meeting to give an update on the powergrid, which seemed to have become her pet project for the foreseeable future. She jumped in on this part, too, in her predictably forthright way.
"You need to take me, Aylah, and Emily with you. Maybe some of the younger kids - those who have really good imaginations."
Objections immediately filled the room, Johnston and Jonah looking at Heather for a long time before speaking.
"What? Risk the children?" one woman asked, upset at the idea. "We have no idea what's going on out there-"
"But we do know that Rogue River is emptying out. We know the highways and back roads within fifty miles of town are clear, and we'll be taking a large convoy. Jake and Mrs. McVeigh will be flying cover, in constant communication about what's around us. And the kids will see things we miss - the little things that only kids can come up with." It was the last that got Miss Maddie's attention.
"Well, now there is some truth to that," she said, leaning back and considering the girl who had become so much a part of Jericho in the past few weeks. "Several things we use around town now are the result of a child asking a question, or coming up with another use for something we overlooked as unimportant. The system we use for keeping the greenhouses closed, for example." No one there had thought of a simple gravity latch made of a dowel connected to a simple wooden block that dropped into an office-sized keydrop would be an easy way of keeping the doors of the greenhouse secure.
"Only a few kids - maybe three or four, of different ages. And only those whose parents are going with us."
"You keep saying 'us'. There's no guarantee you're going," Jonah said, interrupting the rhythm she was establishing.
Heather shook her head. "I'm more useful out there, looking around the Rogue than I am here, putting together another thing that Alex or Harry can fix just as well. And with Aylah and Emily along, we can keep things going faster. Aylah lived in the Rogue, and Emily was up there a lot with Roger. They know the town. And if we can get a few others who know the area, we can cover more ground safely and come back with more information and who knows?"
The subject of the raid, since that what it really was, had been a touchy one. No one wanted to say that they were flat-out taking from Rogue River, but the supplies could be the difference between life and death. References to the actions Jonah's group would be taking had been vague, but everyone knew what was going to happen.
Jonah stopped the discussion by making his final decision. "Everyone who's on my list now is going. Additions will be discussed with me individually, but everyone who goes will have to have knowledge of firearms and driving skills. There is no compromise on those two points."
Heads nodded around the table. Jonah stood and said, "I've got to head back and start assigning duties to my employees. They know what I've been looking at, but I need to tell them tonight so they can start getting everything set for our departure."
When he left, Johnston turned to the group.
"I know we've been batting around some names for sheriff, and the last time he was mentioned, there were some problems with the idea, but when the expedition returns from Rogue River, I think that'll tell us everything we need to know to make the nominations final."
Heads around the table nodded. They didn't have a sheriff, but so far it wasn't hurting them, really. They could wait another week to start the nominations process.
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Heather followed him out, and caught up with him at his car.
"Jake know you're volunteering to get your ass shot off?" Jonah said by way of acknowledging her presence.
"Aylah know you're trying to keep her away from her home?" she returned, not in the least intimidated.
"Not the point or your problem."
"Like hell it's not," Heather didn't back down. "She's a part of this, and a part of your group, even more than I am. Yeah, I'm with Jake and I'm a mechanic-teacher, but I'm still not a one of your merry men."
"If you were, you wouldn't be sleeping with Jake," Jonah said, snorting at the description. The comparison was more accurate than he wanted to admit, even to himself. "Which is the reason you're not going."
"Which is the reason that I am." Heather blew out a breath and started to explain. "I'm not useless, Jonah. I can fight, shoot, cause multiple forms of non-lethal injuries, keep quiet, sneak in and out of places without getting caught, pick locks, and so many more things. I lived up in the hills with my grandmother for a while. I learned more about survival and practicality than I've been able to use so far. And don't try to bullshit me about 'women's work' and all that crap. I know better."
"Not part of my make-up, Heather, but I can't speak for Jake." Jonah paused. "I know better than to try that line. You convince Jake you can take care of yourself, I'm more than happy to have you." He took a breath, then added, "And you don't want to be a part of my crew, either, Heather. We're none of us nice guys."
Heather looked over at him, the quiet of the car was filled with the road noise and the sound of the engine singing.
"What makes you think I'm such a good girl?" she asked, her voice quiet.
Jonah looked at her for a second, caught her eye. There were shadows there, something he hadn't expected. They didn't speak for the rest of the ride back to the office and went their separate ways upon arrival.
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