Author's note: It's very scary posting a chapter like this. Knowing you're going to make your readers want to beat you. But it has to happen like this, I swear. All will become clear eventually. This one is almost done and I can't thank you all enough for hanging on for this long. Thanks so much for your feedback, you have no idea how much that helps me.
John folded the last of his shirts and placed it in the suitcase. Even with everything packed it was still half empty—he traveled light. Looking around the bare room which had just started to feel something like home he tried to remind himself that he liked it that way. Tried to convince himself that he was leaving Llanview exactly as he had arrived. That the case was over and would soon be forgotten like all the others he'd worked.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
He turned in the direction of the knocking and glared at the door. He just wanted tonight to be over so he could get in his car and drive to Philadelphia and try to go back to his old life with no attachments, no personal drama. No blue eyes gazing at him with an affection he didn't deserve, trusting him for a security he could never provide.
"I know you're in there Johnny and I'm not going away until you open this door!"
With a sigh John walked to the door gave his brother an icy stare. "What do you want?"
"What do I want?" Michael asked clearly taken aback by the question. "Well I heard you were leaving town and I figured it might be another five years before I see you again. So I thought maybe if you were done busting crime lords, solving murders, and saving damsels in distress you could have one last drink with your brother."
John felt a pang of regret; in the two and a half months since he'd come to Llanview he'd spent very little time with his brother. A drink was the least he owed him for using him as a cover from the start. "Yeah, I can do that," he said grabbing his wallet.
As they walked into Rodi's the symmetry wasn't lost on him at all and he thought back to his first night in town. This was where it all started. That night had been the real start of this case, the first time he'd seen Paul Cramer, the night he met Natalie. He was surprised to see a familiar red head behind the bar. He'd been avoiding her since Tico's arrest that morning; he knew she would want to talk and he knew he couldn't give her the answers she wanted.
"Hey," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "I was worried you were going to leave without saying goodbye."
"I'm forcing him to let me buy him a drink," Michael explained, "making him at least pretend to be social."
"I didn't know you were back working here," John said.
"First day," she said shyly as she handed them each a bottle of beer, "and it's not going to be for long. I don't think I'm going to be able to take long hours on my feet. But I was sick of just sitting around the house, you know? So this is just temporary until I figure out what I want to do with my life."
As she moved away to help other customers a firm hand clapped him on the shoulder causing him to turn around. "Agent McBain," Bo Buchanan said extending his hand, "I just wanted to thank you for all your work on the Santi and Cramer cases."
"Just doing my job," he said.
"Even when you were officially suspended?" he said pointedly. John looked down and didn't respond. "Well, I think the Bureau will get over it considering you managed to break up a major crime syndicate. But if they don't, there's a spot at the LPD with your name on it."
"I'll keep that in mind," he said though they both knew he had no intention of staying in town.
"Natalie told us everything," Bo continued, "I can't say I completely approve of the way you two lied to everyone about the baby, but I understand that you were trying to keep her safe and I appreciate that."
"Thank you for understanding," he said wondering if could be so magnanimous if it were his niece involved. Over Bo's shoulder he spotted the blonde head of Victoria Davidson; she looked out of place and a little lost, but her face brightened when she saw the two of them.
"Mrs. Davidson," John said extending his hand. He was a bit apprehensive, not knowing yet how she was reacting to the truth about him and Natalie and their nonexistent relationship.
"Agent McBain," she said, "I'm so glad I got to see you before you left town."
"What brings you here, Vik?" Bo asked.
"I just came to see how Natalie was doing on her first night back," she explained, "but I'd actually like to speak to Agent McBain privately for a moment if you don't mind."
"Not at all," Bo said although John wished he hadn't; he expected this conversation was not going to be pleasant. Nonetheless, he allowed Viki to lead him to a corner of the restaurant where they could speak in relative privacy.
"I've had some very difficult conversations with two of my children over the last couple days," she began. "It seems they've both been lying about the paternity of their children which I suppose shouldn't be so altogether surprising considering the history of our family."
"I'm sorry that we had to involve your son in this investigation," he said. He knew it was inadequate consolation to offer a woman who was about to lose her grandson, but it was all he could think to say.
"Don't be," she said shaking her head, "Kevin got himself involved when he didn't report the truth about Ace's parentage as soon as he learned about it. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Oh," he said looking at the floor and anticipating a tongue lashing about everything that had happened with Natalie.
"I just wanted to thank you," she said gently, "for everything that you did on this case. Even if it made some hard truths come out, I know this is going to be a big help to our family in the long run. But most of all I need to thank you for everything you've done for Natalie. You went out of your way to keep her safe and you were there for her at a time when her family had failed her and she very much needed a friend."
"It was no big deal," he said uncomfortable with her praise, "Natalie she… she's been through a lot, but she's a special kid."
"Yes, she is," Viki nodded.
"And she helped me out too," he added.
"Yes, I heard from Bo about her assistance on the Cramer investigation," she said, "John… I'm overstepping, I know, but… I also wanted to thank you for loving my daughter."
John looked up at her startled. "Mrs. Davidson, I thought she explained to you-"
"Oh yes, she explained that you're not lovers," she said with a knowing smile, "she explained that the paternity test identifying you as the father was forged. I know all about it. But I also know that I've seen the way you look at her. I saw the two of you here that night we had dinner. And there is no doubt in my mind that what I saw was love. Love in one of its most unselfish forms. And I think Natalie needed that very much."
"Natalie doesn't really need someone like me in her life," he said, "but you're right that she should be around people who love her. That's why I'm glad things are working out better between you two."
Viki tilted her head slightly to the side and studied him. "So I take it you two haven't discussed the future."
"There is no future with me and Natalie," he said, "I leave town tomorrow."
Viki's mouth curled into a smile that was almost smug as she said, "Just remember, sometimes the future doesn't work out exactly as we expect. But thank you again, John. Have a safe trip home."
John wandered back to his brother, inexplicably rattled by his conversation with Viki. She was confused, he told himself. She just wasn't used to seeing someone who worked undercover for a living and knew how to play a part. He just hoped she wouldn't voice her beliefs to her daughter.
"So bro," Michael said, "I'm in Philly for a conference in March. Any chance we could meet up?"
"Yeah," he said, "that would be nice." His eyes drifted to Natalie, waiting on another customer at the other end of the bar. She glowed. He imagined she was probably approaching what she had been before Cristian Vega broke her heart—she was finding a way to be happy again. She would be all right. He tried not to let himself think about who she'd be all right with.
"You should come out for Christmas," Michael said, "spend it with Marcie and me. Better than spending it alone."
"I don't know, Mike," he said, "I usually have to work Christmas." He watched one of her hands drop unconsciously to her belly and wondered what her baby would look like. He couldn't come back for Christmas; somehow he didn't think he could handle Natalie just across town celebrating her baby's first Christmas without him. Where had he messed up? Where had the charade become so convincing that even he had a hard time remembering it wasn't real?
"You know, not for nothing," Michael said, "but I did ask you here so you could have a drink with the kid brother you never see, not so you could gawk at the bartender."
"I'm not-"
Michael didn't give him a chance to protest. "Seriously," he said, "who do you two think you're fooling?"
"You don't know what you're talking about," he said shaking his head.
"You like a girl," Michael said, "It's not the end of the world. Hell, it could be the exact opposite."
"It's not that simple," he said taking a large swallow of his beer.
"Only if you don't let it be," his brother insisted, "look, I'm not saying ask the girl to marry you. Yet. You could try something along the lines of 'Hey, here's my number in Philly, maybe you could come visit some time.'"
"How about, 'Hey, I live my life with bullets whizzing past my head. Maybe you want to bring your kid and join me,'" he shot back.
Michael shook his head. "Forgetting for the moment that your whole notion that life with you is a death sentence is ridiculous, Natalie's a grown woman. Shouldn't it be her choice?"
John killed his beer and glared at his brother. "It's a choice I can't let her make."
John paced the length of his room, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep and praying for morning. There was a knock at his door. It was gentle, almost timid. Definitely not Michael again. Against his better judgment he crossed the room and opened it, not very surprised to see Natalie standing there.
"We didn't get much of a chance to talk at Rodi's," she said.
"You shouldn't be here," he said, surprised when his voice came out more hoarse than usual, "I'm sure you're ready to get off your feet."
"Then invite me in so I can sit down," she said without flinching.
Obediently he stepped to the side to let her enter and she sat down on the bed beside his opened suitcase. "You all packed?" she asked.
"I travel light," he said.
She laughed, "That's bullshit and we both know it. I don't know if I've ever met anyone who carries around half the baggage you do. Unless it's me."
"All the more reason you shouldn't be here," he said.
She ignored him and changed the subject. "Cristian came by after you left."
His eyes widened with concern, "You okay?"
"Yeah," she said, "I wanted to point out to him it might be in poor taste his showing up there considering the last time he showed up while I was working he shot me. But I figured I should play gracious considering he just found out this morning I've been lying to him about you and the paternity test and everything."
"How did he take that?"
"He was upset, obviously. But I guess also maybe a little excited to find out the baby might be his after all. His lawyer wanted to look into pressing charges against me over the paternity test, but he told her not to. He was surprisingly understanding about me wanting to keep the baby safe from Santi hitmen."
"That's nice of him," John said though an irrational part of him hated the idea of her getting along so well with her ex.
"Meh," she said, "according to my lawyer because I never officially presented the test as a legal document they didn't have much of a case anyway. But I think the important thing is, we're both ready to move on with our lives."
"I hope Cristian turns out to be the father," he said half sitting on the dresser across from her, "no kid should have to grow up without a father."
She looked at him curiously. "You know, I'd started to think maybe you were interested in that job."
He looked away. "Sometimes when you're playing a part the line between reality and the fiction gets blurry," he said as much to himself as to her.
"Right," she said forcing a bitter laugh. She was quiet a moment before changing the subject. "I talked to Uncle Bo and he said that if I start with the new forensic training class next month he thinks we can work everything out around my pregnancy. It'll mean a lot of studying while I'm on maternity leave, but I'm going to move back in with my mom, so I'll have help."
"Great," he said.
"But I could still manage trips to Philadelphia here and there," she added pointedly.
John looked at the floor. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"And does what I think matter?" she asked, the intensity of her gaze never wavering.
"Natalie," he sighed, "I can't-"
She stood up and took two steps towards them, standing only a few feet away and said, "John, I told you that once the case was over we were going to have to talk about us."
"Thereis no us!" he said sharply.
"Right," she said anger flashing in her eyes, "I just imagined that kiss the other night at Rodi's. That look in your eyes the night Paul beat me up. I just imagined your hand down my pants that night on the roof when we were this close to making love."
"Okay, maybe there is something," he conceded, "but it can't happen."
"Why not?" she pleaded.
"Because it's too dangerous," he said turning his back on her and taking a step away.
"John, sometimes you just have to jump!" she insisted.
He turned back to her. She made it sound so easy—to give in, to let himself collapse into her arms. To forget about the price she might ultimately pay for his reckless behavior. "If it were just me," he managed to say, "Maybe I could. But I can't let you fall. I'm sorry."
"I'm hardly an innocent victim here," she said, "this isn't something that just happened to me. I made the choice to make the leap… I can deal with the landing."
He closed his eyes, because if he kept looking into hers he was going to crack. "Natalie," he pleaded, his voice cracking, "please go."
"You don't really want that," she said moving so close he could feel her breath on his face.
"It's not about what I want," he said, "It's what I need. And what you need."
"Fine," she said, her voice beginning to quiver for the first time that night. Relief that she was giving in washed over him but as he opened his eyes her arm snaked around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. He knew he'd never forget the way she tasted, the velvet of her lips as they moved against his, the skill with which her tongue probed his mouth. But he also knew he'd rather be haunted by her memory than her actual ghost. Finally he managed to force himself to break the kiss, but his voice refused to return. She studied his face while she struggled to regain her breath and finally said in a voice just above a whisper, "Goodbye, John."
He closed his eyes again, but with his ears he could see clearly enough as she walked to the door and shut it gently behind her. Part of him wanted to run after her, but he couldn't force his body to move. He didn't know how long he stayed rooted to that spot, but when he finally managed to sink down in the spot she had recently occupied on the bed, her smell was starting to fade. She was gone. And in a few hours he would be far away and unable to hurt her anymore. He hated the thought of never seeing her again, but he also knew this was exactly how it should be.
To be continued…
Author's note #2: Don't hate me yet! You're not allowed to hate me until that says "The End."
