Author's Notes - Back from vacation. I hope I haven't lost too many readers. Much of this chapter is my take on Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang. In case anyone hasn't seen it, James Marsters played Captain John Hart, Jack's ex-partner at the Time Agency.
Walking into Jack's office, Melissa handed him the cup of coffee she had hijacked from Ianto on the way upstairs. "Rose says to tell you hi."
Grinning, he looked up from his paperwork, happy to see her back from her monthly rendezvous in London. "And how is Rosie?"
"Scarily aware on some levels and blissfully naive on others. Somehow, she's able to read Donna's possible timeline. She told me that she's going to be fired from her job next month. She really shouldn't be able to do that, Jack."
"Do you think she's tapping into the Bad Wolf?" He put the monthly report from UNIT down to give her his undivided attention.
"No idea," she admitted, "but if it doesn't have anything to do with the Bad Wolf, then the Torchwood on Pete's World is farther advanced than they have any right to be."
"She didn't question where the blueprints came from, though?" They could argue about how much Rose interfered as the Bad Wolf for hours, and occasionally had. Now, he just wanted to know if her mission had been successful.
"No, she believed me when I told her they came from our archives. That's what I don't understand. How can she see timelines, but not know the first thing about building a rudimentary time machine?"
"Like you said, no idea." Rising, he kissed her soundly. "Hungry?"
"What if I want dessert first?" she requested as he began to nuzzle her neck.
Placing her on the edge of his desk, he responded eagerly. "That can be arranged." Hands free to linger, he began to show her just how much he had missed her.
"Oi! You two, get a room." Owen griped good naturedly as he walked unnoticed into Jack's office as the Captain was unbuttoning his pants.
"We had a room until you barged in." Melissa pouted, calmly buttoning her shirt.
That teased a smile from the usually acerbic doctor. "You're as bad as he is, you know. No self control whatsoever. You've been away, what, two days?"
"Forty-three hours, twenty-six minutes and thirty-two seconds," she smugly responded.
"Christ, that's annoying," he retorted, always surprised when she proved just how alien she really was.
"Did you come in here just to watch, Owen?"
"My eyes would be blinded," he rejoined. No, I'm calling in a favor. Tosh talked me into going to the Hard Rock with her tonight, only Gwen overheard, and Gwen, being Gwen, managed to invite herself and Rhys to join us. I am not going to dinner with those two without some backup, so I was hoping you two could . . ."
They each stared at Owen in shock. "You're going to the Hard Rock Cafe? A bit on the touristy side for you, isn't?" Jack tried to think of a polite way to get out of the invitation. He wanted Melissa to himself tonight, and they would have to spend time with Susan and Matthew before he could manage that.
Embarrassed, Owen mumbled. "Well, she said she liked their hamburgers."
Grinning from ear to ear and trying very hard not to laugh, Melissa begged. "Please tell me this isn't your first date."
"Date?" He sputtered, "It's not a date. Well, maybe it was going to be, but Gwen and her big mouth." He stopped talking when he realized she was teasing him. Defensive, he clenched his hands into fists. "And what if it is?"
Not wanting to upset him, she did her best to hide her mirth. "I'm just glad you finally saw what's been in front of your face. And I haven't had a good hamburger since leaving Colorado. We'll be happy to come to dinner, won't we, Jack?"
"Yes," he agreed pleasantly, knowing better than to argue.
Once Owen had left, Jack expressed his guilt at leaving Ianto by himself to tend to the Hub while the rest of them enjoyed a rare night out. Melissa wisely decided not to mention the fact that Ianto would most likely not be alone in the Hub for long. She just hoped that the young man was prudent enough to wipe all traces of Susan's visit, including the tapes. Jack was ignorant of the two's burgeoning friendship, and she wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.
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The Hard Rock was noisy, but not particularly crowded when they arrived at nine. Delayed by a Weevil, Owen, Tosh, Gwen, Jack and Melissa arrived a half hour later than planned. Rhys was waiting patiently at the bar enjoying his second beer.
"Took you bloody long enough," he said by way greeting as he fondly kissed Gwen. "So, what was it this time? ET couldn't find his way home, or were you chasing some nasty bugger?"
"Nothing dangerous," Gwen lied. The Weevil had targeted Melissa as soon as it had sensed her, and Jack had put his body in the way. They had delayed long enough to allow him to change into a new shirt.
Sitting comfortably around a table in the back corner, the remains of dinner littering their plates, they chatted about music preferences until Jack began to regale them with some stories from his travels with the Doctor. Melissa wasn't sure the others believed the story about Rose, the Doctor, Jack and the geisha, but it sounded like typical Jack, and she enjoyed hearing one she hadn't heard before.
When Jack had finished, Rhys innocently requested a story from her. "So, being Jack's wife and all, you must have a few stories of your own. Go on, let's hear one." The table got instantly quiet. Melissa never shared stories with the group; mostly, it was assumed that she didn't have many happy stories to share.
She floundered for a moment, trying to think of a funny story that wouldn't compromise her. Her unease must have shown on her face because Jack protectively put his hand over hers. Suddenly inspired, she began her tale.
"It was couple of days after Christmas, and the kids and I were in Colorado. Jack was there, too, when the Doctor showed up a few days late for the holidays, but hey, it was the same week, so we didn't complain. He had this thing about real snow. I can't really explain why, he just loved snow. It had snowed a lot that year already, and there was a blizzard the night before, but that morning, it looked beautiful, and the Doctor insisted we go cross country skiing. He even provided the skis for all of us. What he didn't think about was the avalanche danger in the backcountry. So, we're on this mountain skiing when we all hear this rumble. It looks like the whole mountain's going to fall right on top of us and there's nothing we can do; the avalanche is coming faster and faster, and we're all desperately trying to outrun it even though we know we can't, when all of the sudden, the Doctor's off the ground, shouting about the skis being ant-grav skis and we all just have to-"
"Think happy thoughts!" Jack finished for her, delighted at the memory. "The anti-grav in the skis was triggered by brain wave patterns, and you should have seen us all trying to think about something happy while the mountain crashed down upon us. He got a lot of ribbing about being Peter Pan from the kids after that." Looking at his wife, who was suddenly wistful, he gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.
As everyone at the table noticed her shift in mood, Tosh sensitively changed the topic. "So, who's up for dessert?"
"We're having dessert at home, aren't we Gwen?" Rhys answered quickly, impatient to have his fiancée to himself. It wasn't often that she had a night off, and he was happy to take advantage of it. They left cheerfully, ignoring the suggestive comments Jack and Owen called out to Gwen.
"Well, that went alright," Owen finally allowed as the four of them ordered desserts off the menu. "What do you think, Tosh?"
"I think the next time I invite you to dinner, I'll send you a text."
That got a laugh from Jack. "Well, I have to say thank you for inviting us. I don't usually do sixes, but it wasn't too awkward."
Melissa rolled her eyes wondering if Jack was able to go one night without making an innuendo, and then smiled because she realized he wasn't. Ignoring his comment, she added her thanks, "I had a good time, too. It's been an awfully long time since I've had a night out with friends. Thanks."
Her earnestness made both Tosh and Owen slightly self-conscious. They were relieved when dessert arrived seconds later so they didn't have to think of a reply.
On their way back to the Hub, Melissa stopped near the Plass to sit on a bench. The night was clear and she could see the faint outline of stars over the light pollution given off by the city. Jack sat patiently next to her until she finally spoke.
"You remembered that story."
"Vaguely, but it wasn't at Christmas, was it? We . . . damn, I still can't remember much more than the punch line. Sorry." Sitting next to her, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "You okay?"
"Perfect," she replied, not really feeling that way. "I just-"
"Jack, the Rift spiked about twenty minutes ago, exactly where the police are reporting a homicide, and there's a something resembling a blowfish driving around in a stolen sports car. Should I get someone to check it out?" Ianto broke in on the comms, effectively ending their conversation.
"Melissa and I will go after the Rift spike," he answered with an apologetic glance at her. "Call in Tosh and Owen. You and Owen take the blowfish, and let Tosh handle the computers." Sending the coordinates to Melissa's PDA, Ianto called Tosh to tell her that her date was cut short.
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"Well, it looks like an ordinary murder," Jack stated as he and Melissa looked down upon a body that had fallen from a four story parking garage. "The man was obviously pushed."
"Yes, but it also looks like whatever killed him came through the rift. Look at these readings." She held out the sonic screwdriver for him to see the results.
Without warning, Jack's wrist computer began to beep. "Shit!"
A hologram of a blonde man wearing a short jacket modeled in a quasi Napoleonic style stared at Jack. "Long time no see, although why are wasting your time in this little backwater, I'll never know. Anyway, I'm thinking reunion; I've even cleared the local watering hole to give us some privacy. By the way, I've got some things you might want back, well one at least; the other isn't all that good looking. Your standards really are slipping. See you soon." With a cheery wave, the apparition was gone.
"Tosh, can you track the signal that just came through my wrist computer?" Jack was frantically looking around, as if his psycho Time Agent ex-partner might tap him on the back at any minute. He had missed Melissa's reaction to the entire message; there was a momentary flash of panic, and then her eyes grew ice cold. Shaken, she pushed down her emotional response and focused on getting Owen and Ianto back from the Time Agency.
Racing to the SUV, Jack managed to leave without her, but Melissa had no intention of being left behind. After getting the coordinates from Tosh, she began to run flat out for far longer than any human could.
Unable to find Ianto and Owen in the nearby bar, Melissa furtively watched Jack interact with the Time Agent, who seemed to be using the name John Hart. After seeing the man in action, she wondered how she had ever let herself be captured by an organization run by such morons. Violent, unpredictable and dangerous, yes, but this guy was a moron nonetheless. What the hell was he doing there, and why was he working with a Horth?
Were they actually debating who was the wife in their little time loop tryst? Well that opening was too good to pass up. Reminding herself that John Hart was on her turf, she stepped into view. "I think you'll find I'm the wife," she called out to the man with the sword, stunning him with her entrance.
Jack was livid; he hadn't wanted her to follow and had hoped that the lack of transportation would have delayed her just a little longer. Melissa did not need to be near Hart, especially when the man had sufficient leverage already. Didn't she know that he was as likely to kill her as to speak to her?
"A wife?" John Hart asked incredulously. "Look at you, Jack; you've gone native, and a female at that-good for you! Always knew you had it in you." Speaking to Melissa, he asked, "Did he tell you we were lovers for five years? Have you even known the good Captain for that long?"
Trying not to laugh and tell him just how long Jack had known her, Melissa coolly poured herself a shot of tequila and replied, "Nope. It must have been too insignificant to remember. Or was that just your dick?"
"Feisty, Red, I like you. Now play nice, or I won't give Jack his toys back." He grabbed her hair, intending to pull her into a kiss, but she somehow managed to break his hold, turn him around and twist his arm behind him. Suddenly, she had the upper hand, at least for a moment.
Glaring at Jack, she asked, "Has he told you what he wants?"
Stung, he tried to defend himself. "I was getting there!" When she only glared back at him, he shrugged and told Hart, "I think she wants to know why you're here."
With a feigned nonchalance, he answered, "Why are any of us here, Jack? I missed you, wanted to reconnect. Thought I could rescue you from this shithouse century you've trapped yourself in."
When Hart mentioned the word rescue, her stomach lurched. What had Jack said on the TARDIS to the Doctor all those months ago? He thought he could rescue Gray, but all John did was unleash him to take his revenge. This wasn't that John was it?
Ignoring what she had just remembered, she focused on the present. "That doesn't explain why you took two people hostage. So, what do you really want?" As she finished, she shoved him hard, sending him reeling.
Catching his balance, Hart replied, "Well, if you want to cheapen it like that, I do have a task that I might need some assistance with."
Jack rolled his eyes; now they were getting closer to the real story. "What?" he demanded. "What was so important that you had to take two of my team as hostages?"
Hart continued to drink at an impressive pace, although his eyes lingered speculatively on Melissa for quite a while. "I'm looking for something a friend slipped through the rift; it's in three pieces. Since the canisters are leaking radiation, and you always enjoyed playing the damned hero, I thought you wouldn't mind assisting. Fishy will return your people once I have all three canisters. So the faster we go, the faster you can have those two back, although I've gotta say, Jack, that medic of yours looks like a reject from some genetic experiment. Don't know how you put up looking at him. Now, the eye candy, he's something altogether different. Wouldn't mind keeping that one for a while, what d'ya say?"
"Tosh," Jack called out over the comms., ignoring John, "Are you picking up any radiation spikes in the area?"
Efficiently typing commands, she responded, "Yes, three radiation spikes, they all started about an hour ago." Then worried, she asked, "Jack, I can't reach Owen or Ianto. Do you know their status?"
"Yes," he replied shortly. He knew their status very well. "Transmit the coordinates of the radiation to my PDA. After Melissa and I collect them, we'll pick up Owen and Ianto."
"We don't need Red," John pouted as Jack finished speaking to Tosh.
"You're getting me." Melissa didn't like the situation one bit. "But I'm not going anywhere until you prove that Owen and Ianto are still alive."
She knew how the Time Agency worked as much as Jack did. There was really no guarantee that they weren't already dead. She just wished she knew if this was some rogue agent with his own agenda or a Time Agency operation to capture Jack for some reason. She knew she wasn't the target since she wasn't wearing the same face and the Agency's policy on Time Lords was to deny their very existence.
"Trust's an issue for you, I can tell." John smirked, but reluctantly punched a few buttons on his Vortex Manipulator, and suddenly a hologram of Owen, Ianto and a Blowfish appeared before them.
"You two okay?" Jack hoped his ex-partner had no idea just how much that answer meant to him. Ianto's left cheek was swollen and bloody, and the collar of the pink shirt he wore was now red. Owen was bound, his hands behind his back.
"Never better," Owen sarcastically replied for both of them. "The blowfish's high on cocaine and has a gun, but really, it's just a typical evening. You?"
"We'll be there soon," he promised, hoping his answer wasn't a lie. They needed to find those canisters and exchange them for his two team members and friends. Sometimes, he truly hated reminders of the past.
As John cut the connection, he looked at Jack with a grin on his face, "I take it that means you're going to help me."
"Don't look so smug," Melissa grumbled, finally showing a crack in her armor.
In the SUV, Hart sat in the front, the better for Melissa to keep an eye on him as Jack drove towards the shipyards. Just to break the tension in the silent vehicle, she asked, "So, what's in the canisters?"
Jack glanced in the rearview mirror, wishing he could hazard a touch and have a private conversation with her. Though he was as curious as she to find out what the containers held. It must be impressive for his ex-partner to be interested.
Trying to needle her, Hart responded, "Now, that would be telling, wouldn't it? If you're that curious why don't you just fuck me hard enough and I'll tell you during pillow talk. Jack doesn't mind sharing."
"I'd rather have sex with a Jacolian," she snapped, forgetting for a moment that humans wouldn't encounter that particular species until the fortieth century.
"Well, that's a strange fetish," he grinned, having learned something about her. "I would think the acid would be a turnoff. Still, to each her own. I take it you're not from around here, then?"
Damn, she had been careless. Luckily, Jack came to the rescue. "Are you going to tell us what we're retrieving for you or not? It's not like we're going to steal it. I just want my people back and for you to leave."
Getting out of the vehicle, Hart sighed theatrically, "Oh, all right. Put together, the container holds an Arcadian diamond, the rarest and most precious gemstone in the galaxy."
Melissa's snort of laughter surprised both men. "I don't know what's in that little puzzle box of yours, but I can guarantee it's not an Arcadian diamond." Confident, she left them behind as she tracked the radiation signature with the sonic screwdriver.
Jack hurried to catch up. If she was right, then the containers might be dangerous. Not wanting to lose control over the situation, John Hart followed on his heels. Both men stopped to watch was she retrieved a small canister from a shipping container and dropped it into a pocket of her coat.
"Why don't you give that to me, gorgeous," Hart crooned.
"When you give me Ianto and Owen," she replied with venom.
He made another move to kiss her. "There's that temper again. What is it about red hair and tempers?"
Stepping between them, Jack tried to defuse the situation. "Let's go pick up the other two. Faster we go, faster we can finish."
Walking back to the car, John needled Jack. "Now, the man I used to know hated finishing quickly. Are you sure she's satisfying you? Maybe you should come back with me. I'll remind you of what you're missing."
"I'm not that person anymore," he remarked flatly, regretting deeply that he had been that person in the first place.
Although continuing to smile, Hart was fuming. How dare his former partner judge him! The life had been good enough for his lover once; it should be good enough now. Determined to make him see the truth, he began to look for ways to get rid of the third wheel.
Reaching the next site, Jack shot the lock off the warehouse door. He was getting agitated enough to take his frustration out on inanimate objects. When they saw the sheer amount of items cluttering the cavernous rooms, he reluctantly agreed to splitting up, telling himself more than once that Melissa could handle herself.
After a frustrating ten minute search, Melissa bent down to retrieve the second canister, only to have John Hart's sword at her neck. Slowly she straightened, the edge of the blade following her every move.
"You're a real pain in the ass, know that, Red? You've got the man I want wrapped around your finger. Maybe if I do a little cutting, you won't have such a tight hold. What do you think?" John Hart pressed the weapon uncomfortably against her neck. She could feel droplets of blood forming where the incredibly sharp blade touched flesh.
"Let her go." Jack aimed his Webley straight at John's head, his voice deadly calm.
Frustrated, Melissa stayed absolutely still. The blade was too close to her neck to even chance an escape. "If she gives me the canisters." He really hoped she wouldn't.
Slowly and very carefully, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the first canister, handing it begrudgingly to him. Disappointed, he dropped the sword and shoved her out of the way, picking up the second canister from the ground.
Jack was on him in an instant, his gun pressed against Hart's temple. "Touch my wife again and I'll kill you, hostages or no. Are we clear?"
Staring at the Captain in disbelief, he finally replied, "You really are whipped; you know that, don't you?"
There was absolute silence on the way to the third and final site, an office building whose employees had thankfully long since gone home. Considering how badly splitting up had worked the last time, the three searched together, suspicious of treachery. Melissa once again found the canister, this time on the roof of the building.
As soon as she picked it up, Captain John Hart was behind her, but she was prepared this time. Stepping closer to Jack, she ordered, "Bring Owen and Ianto, or you don't get the last one."
"She likes to be dominant. Is that why you've kept her?" When Jack didn't answer, Hart whined. "You're not making this fun! It's supposed to be fun!"
Petulantly, he continued, "Fine, if you really want the weasel and eye candy, here they are. Pushing a few buttons, he activated the teleport recall on his wrist strap. In a flash, Owen, Ianto and the blowfish appeared on the roof, slightly worse for wear.
Hands bound behind his back, Owen went down in an ungainly heap, suffering the effects of transport. Ianto tried to help him to his feet, only to have the blowfish smash the gun to the back of the Welshman's head, causing him to topple directly onto the medic.
Changing her perception of time, Melissa touched Jack first. "This is getting out of control. We need to leave." In an instant, she had seen the possibilities all too clearly, and knew that if she did not attempt this, then Owen or Ianto or both would not survive the night. "Do we take the canisters with us?"
Gripping her hand to remain in her time perspective, he shook his head. "If that's all he wants, then he'll leave. If not, he'll have to tell us why." Looking at Ianto and Owen, he asked worriedly, "Can you manage all of us?"
"Sure," she lied breezily. Changing one person's time perception was difficult enough; she really wasn't sure she could handle the strain of three, especially if Ianto was truly unconscious. However, she was not going to leave Jack on the roof, something she was sure he would insist on if he knew how dangerous this could get.
"Okay, I'll support Ianto on the right; you take the left, and we'll keep our arms touching on his back. Owen can hold onto you from the other side." Worried, he asked again, "You sure you can do this?"
"Yes," she snapped, not wanting to waste her strength. Still holding Jack's hand, she concentrated, and then they awkwardly dragged the stunned Ianto to a standing position while still maintaining contact.
Moaning a few times, Ianto sluggishly opened his eyes. "Wha?"
"Getting you out of here," Jack reassured him, as he and Melissa decided she was going to have to leave them standing for a moment and cut Owen's ropes by herself.
Grabbing a Swiss Army knife from her pocket, she bent over Owen and began to saw at his bonds. By the time she was finished, sweat was lining her brow and her head had started to ache.
Painfully standing, his hand in Melissa's, Owen suddenly realized all was not right with the picture in front of him. "What the fuck? This is some Time Lord weird shit again, isn't it?"
"For once in your life, shut up!" she wheezed, barely able to talk. "You have to be touching me at all times, okay?"
"Yeah," he agreed, subdued and out of his element. She led him to Jack and Ianto, placing herself on the injured man's left side, supporting him as she grasped Jack's arm.
Lurching, they managed to open the rusty access door to the roof and descend the narrow stairs that led back to the top floor. She had never been so glad to see a lift in all her lives. Once inside, she dropped their hands and pulled out the sonic screwdriver, fixing the lift so that it would not return to the top floor.
Exhausted, she sagged against the wall, the claustrophobic space tilting at odd angles and spinning slowly to the pounding in her head. Time doubled back like a lazy river, and she could hear an echo in the words of concern they all voiced at her, although she couldn't concentrate well enough to answer. Obstinate, she managed to make it to the SUV on her own. However, her senses had contracted to a narrow tunnel of muted perception. Later, she somehow knew that they had stopped. Yearning for the safety of the Hub, she opened the car door, only to collapse painfully on the ground.
Words washed over her as intense emotions overwhelmed her. Blazing anger tore through her mind, and then pain rocked her body. She shrank away from its cause, whimpering in fear, but it continued to press her. Incoherent, she began to scream, begging that it stop.
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She woke up in her bed, the early morning sunlight a dagger in her eyes. Groaning, she feebly tried to block the light with her right arm. There was an absence, and she felt it keenly. Delirious, she called out, over and over, until her voice was but a ragged whisper. Gentle hands tried to calm her, placing a warm, dark washcloth over her eyes, the better to block the light, but they were not the hands she craved, and she was inconsolable.
"Jack?" Her voice was but a croak, but it made the boy sitting next to her jump.
"Mom? Can you understand me?"
"Jack?" Her voice was mournful and weakening. Before her son could call out to her again, she had slipped back into unconsciousness. Disheartened, he made a phone call before putting his head in his hands, finally giving in to despair.
"Jack?" The plaintive nature of her query tore at the man's heart.
"No, Sweetheart," he said sadly. "It's Owen. Try to stay with us this time, okay?" But she had already slipped away once again.
"Jack?" The room was dark and for the first time she struggled to open her eyes.
"Mama? Can you hear me? It's Susan." The young woman was already holding her mother's hand, so she gave it a squeeze. Her hopes soared when she received a weak squeeze in return, but they were quickly dashed when her mother gave no further response.
"Jack?"
There was only silence.
"Jack?"
She drifted listlessly in her memories. Something so profound was absent that she could not comprehend continuing without it. She was just too tired. That something else was wrong tickled the back of her mind, but she scarcely paid attention to it.
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"Melissa?" A hand squeezed hers, but she gave no indication that she was aware of the touch on any level.
"Melissa?" It was hours later, and his voice was more forlorn and desperate. Cracked lips pressed against her forehead, but again, there was no response.
"Melissa?" It was a day later and he hadn't left her side for more than a few minutes. He was frightened now, and his fear was filled with guilty recriminations. With a sigh, he settled back in the chair, wishing with all his being that he could have done everything differently.
"Jack?" The voice was but a soft murmur, but it shot through the exhausted man in the room.
"I'm here," he promised, laying his hand on her cheek.
"No," she protested weakly in disbelief, her eyes closed. "Alone."
Desperate, he entered her mind, finding himself back on the rocky precipice, only this time, there was no storm, no faces, no sky, nothing but the sound of the wind whistling through the air. She was nowhere to be seen.
"MELISSA!"
He called for what seemed like hours, backing away from the cliff to wander the dusty, rocky landscape painted in sepia tones. He found her teetering on the edge of a stark nothingness, her eyes devoid of emotion. Cautiously, he approached, but she gave no indication that she noticed him at all. Embracing her, he pulled her forcefully back from the edge, sitting her on his lap once they were a safe distance away from the awful void.
He stroked her cheek, held her hand, kissed her forehead, sang to her, rocked her, but she had no reaction. Intuitively, he poured his emotions into her, sharing his fear, his pain, his love and his hope until he felt tired and empty. Just as he was about to give up and retreat to reality, she exploded into being, filling him with her thoughts and emotions as a sun radiates its heat upon the earth.
Delighted, she stood before him, once again wearing the long, beautiful green dress that highlighted the life in her eyes. "I missed you!" She laughed with joy as she threw herself against him.
"I missed you, too," he responded as he sat her on the edge of the table underneath the wooden pavilion, the roar of the waterfall a soothing hum in the background.
He kissed her, his tongue melting into her mouth as she welcomed his touch. Groaning, he reluctantly removed his hands from her thighs to reach her back and the tiny, delicate buttons that trapped her. Growing impatient with his progress, he abruptly thought the dress away, exposing her bare skin. Kissing her shoulder, he made the wind caress the rest of her body. She responded with an ardent zeal, more than eager to prove to herself that he was real. Their minds joined so seamlessly that she could pretend for moment that they had never parted, and the past few days had been nothing more than a bad dream.
"Jack."
He kissed her tenderly before separating from her. Carrying her in his arms, he laid her on the grass nearby, covering her in the warmth of his body. "Are you okay?"
Turning to look at him, she smiled radiantly while stifling a huge yawn. "Perfect, content even. Just a little tired."
"Rest. We can talk later. I promise to be here when you wake."
Grateful, she closed her eyes and was soon asleep. He came to awareness in the chair beside her in the darkened bedroom. For a moment, he could not comprehend that everything had taken place inside his mind, and then, feeling wetness against his pants, he realized with a wry grin that their union had spilled into reality, quite literally in his case. Chucking his clothes into the hamper in the corner, he whistled jauntily as he walked to the dresser to look for some flannel pajamas to put on after his shower.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
Taken completely by surprise, he whirled around to meet the raging glare of Dr. Owen Harper.
"Christ, I don't need to see that!" the medic shouted as he got a full view of Jack's body in all its naked glory.
Grabbing a robe off a hook in the bathroom, he quickly covered himself. "Sh. You'll wake her up; she's tired."
"She's unconscious, Captain!" Owen retorted loudly in shocked disbelief. "Even I didn't think you could stoop so low as to take advantage of someone like that! Did you lose a few marbles on that little trip of yours?"
Stung, he closed the distance between them to tower over the doctor. "Say one more word and you will be very, very sorry."
Whatever Owen might have said was lost as Melissa grumpily made her presence known. "Jack? I thought you were going to let me sleep."
Ignoring Owen, although he still wanted to hit the medic, Jack crossed the room to sit beside her on the bed. Kissing her forehead, he tried to smooth her tangled hair. "I'm just going to take a shower. Sorry, I woke you. Go back to sleep."
"Jesus Christ," Owen ranted. "Sex is not a cure-all, no matter what you two think! And I still think you took advantage of the situation, Captain. You had no business using her to shore up your own insecurities. You ran away, remember?"
As Jack's rage at his friend surged, Melissa abruptly turned away from him and started sobbing. "I'm sorry; I'm so sorry. I know you have every right to be angry with me. I couldn't help you. I just let him take you. It's all my fault."
Worried by her abrupt change in mood, he tried to soothe her, his argument with Owen momentarily forgotten. "Nobody's mad at you, Sweetheart, I promise. Nothing was your fault, okay?"
"Don't lie. I can feel how angry you are. I couldn't protect you. I tried so hard, and he took you anyway. He hurt you, so much, and then I couldn't feel you at all. All alone-so alone in my head. I can't live like that again!" Her cries reaching hysteria, she curled into a tight ball.
He pulled her up instinctively, and she wrapped her arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably. Perplexed, he attempted to calm his mind. "I'm not angry at you, understand? I was mad at Owen, not you."
"Owen?" She desperately wanted to believe him, but her mind felt so muffled, it was difficult to process her feelings and his words.
Standing next to Jack, Owen began to feel distinctly uneasy. "Yeah, it's my fault Jack's fuming. Said some things that he didn't appreciate. Might have jumped to a few conclusions."
Sniffling, she slowly calmed down as Jack continued to hold her. "Better?" he asked as she relaxed against him.
"Something's wrong," she admitted hesitantly. "My mind's . . . mushy, and I feel . . . yishy."
The two men shared a look. "Can you be more descriptive than mushy, Melissa?" Owen finally asked. "And is yishy even a word?"
"Yishy, you know, like scrungy? All greasy and grimy and sticky and full of dead skin cells, and just, well, yishy." She didn't understand why she was having such trouble making herself understood.
Jack chuckled. "I imagine there's a good reason for that feeling. I'll help you get clean in a few minutes. How about telling Owen what you mean by your brain feels mushy."
Puzzled, she tried to clarify. "It feels mushy, Jack. It wants to rest, close eyes and stay closed. Something's missing. I can't-something. A little part of my mind is screaming. It's really, really afraid. It's making the rest of me foggy." Frustrated, she raised her voice. "It's just mushy. Why can't you understand mushy?"
Seeing Owen's face tense as Melissa described her symptoms, Jack tried not to panic. Gently, he stroked her back. "Tell you what, why don't I give you a bath, get some clean sheets on the bed and let you rest. I bet we can figure it out when you wake up. Susan told me it's been nine days. That's a long time to be out of it, even for you. Maybe you just need some real sleep."
With almost a childlike earnestness, she replied, "I don't think mushy brains get better with sleep, Jack, but I really want a bath. I don't like being yishy."