Timestamp: Bombs + 60

A/N: Some lines are remarkably close and/or identical to dialogue in the show. The reason for it will be apparent, and no copyright infringement was intended.

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The music was playing, people were laughing and drinking. Emily had smirked about their song earlier in the day when Jake installed the handpump on the well downtown. He should've done it earlier, but something had come up. Ness and Mulford would object to the unapologetic classification as a barrier to Jake's schedule, but the reality was they had come to just that. Between the towns and the information he'd gone over yesterday with the Commander, he craved the distraction of physical labour. Emily had helped him, true, but she hadn't let up on him all day for his selective memory, either. He couldn't remember it. It was sad and depressing - that much she admitted. And some bald chick sang it. And it was depressing.

Jake stared at the jukebox, willing the answer to appear - and there it was. He grinned, punched in the number and letter, and rapped his knuckles on the playlist for amusement. Got it. Won't she be surprised.

Emily wasn't paying attention as Jake sauntered back over to the bar. He sat down and they talked for a minute or two about nothing important. She was waiting for Mitch to come in from his report to Jonah; he was waiting for Heather to come in with Aylah and Jonah. A small smile twitched at his lips as he thought of Heather. Just then, the recording stopped and changed. A wailing feminine voice came through the room and Emily looked at him.

"Finally remembered that song," he said. Jake stood, thinking of all the times he'd taken Emily for granted, and vice-versa. "Come on." He held out his hand and Emily took it. It was over and they were adults. They could dance to an old memory.

As the music played and they swayed in the crowded bar, Jake brushed the hair away from Emily's face. He remembered that look. Big blue eyes looking up just a bit at him, lips parted just so. He wondered if she even realized that she was doing it, giving him that kiss-me look. If she was, he wasn't immune to it yet, no matter how much he adored Heather.

"We should be adults and walk away," Emily said, her eyes reflecting the knowledge that neither one of them would, and damn the crowds.

"We should," Jake echoed, his hands cradling her cheeks. He leaned in as she stretched up. For a long, trembling moment, Jake felt like this was new again. A first kiss, years after they'd done everything they could think of with and to each other. As his lips pressed against hers, Mitch, Heather, Aylah and Jonah walked in. Jake and Emily were too occupied to notice.

The kiss quickly became familiar, then, in the middle of the kiss, Emily started to giggle. Jake chuckled and they broke apart. Neither one could stop laughing just yet.

"Guess it really is over," Jake said at the end of a laugh. He looked down into her eyes and saw a friend, one who had known him intimately.

"Yeah," Emily said, seeing the truth in Jake's face. Those eyes hadn't followed her for a long time. She realized that she hadn't missed them - not the eyes, not him, and not them, Emily-and-Jake. "I think I still love you, though," she added.

Jake nodded. "I guess a part of me will always love you, too," he said, then caught her grin. He winced. "I didn't mean it like that," he began. Apparently, she was feeling merciful, though, because she just smiled at him, a soft, sweet smile.

"I know." She laid her head on his shoulder and he held her closer closing his eyes and leaning his cheek on her hair.

After so many years, together, apart, loving, and hating each other, it was over. It took a kiss to their old song in a crowded tavern to make them realize it, but they finally did. Jake let the moment go on by, remembering all the good times and the bad. Yes, he would always love her, but it was a peaceful love now, almost like what he felt for his family. That's what she was, even though she wasn't. That didn't make sense. That wouldn't make sense, even if he were drunk, and he'd only had two beers.

Beer was back in Baileys - not the commercial brews, but a homebrew. Kansas wasn't exactly known for its alcoholic endeavours, but this beer was from the St. Xaviers', an earthy, dark homebrew that went down smooth and rich. He opened his eyes and saw Mitch and Heather standing at the edge of the dance floor and watching them.

"Company," he said to Emily. It was the end of the song. They were more than ready to let go of each other.

Emily pulled away from Jake's arms and walked over to Mitch, a more relaxed man than he had been, but he was not smiling now. She took his arm and led him to their favourite booth. Aylah and Jonah joined them, knowing the trouble would come from that pairing before it came from Heather and Jake.

"Well?" Heather asked, not reacting visibly.

"It's over." The simple sentence was enough, but Heather wanted him to understand something else entirely. She needed to tell him something, and he wouldn't like hearing it. Now was as good a time as any.

"Walk with me?" she asked, nodding toward the door. Jake agreed and took her hand. They walked out of Bailey's the way they had for over a month, hands clasped, bodies swaying in easy motion with one another.

Inside, the peace was only skin deep. Mitch was seething and Emily could see it.

"It's over, Mitch," she said as her father walked up. "When you start laughing in the middle of a kiss, it has to be over. He's…nothing anymore."

"You still love him," Mitch ground out, irritated that he was showing her this much of his own emotions. It wasn't time. She didn't see him as anything but relief yet, and now she'd drop him for being a Neanderthal. Damn, but if he lost her over this...

"Like an old doll or a favourite pet - maybe even a relative. That fire burned out a long time ago, Mitch, but I was too busy being stubborn to notice." She slid her hands over his clenched fist. "I know you're the jealous type, but I swear that I'm not into Jake anymore. We've got something good," she added, glancing up at her father and Aylah. She hadn't figured out what to call Aylah yet, not in relation to her father. "That was the last good-bye," she said. She shied away from thinking about what she and Mitch had together, and relief from the thought came in the form of Eric barreling through the door.

"People!" he shouted. "Refugees. Get April down here as soon as you can. Bring blankets and everything else we might need. Jonah-"

"On our way," Jonah called back as the tavern emptied out onto the street.

Emily and Mitch were among the first out of the tavern, despite their place away from the door. Faces, drawn against pain and cold and hunger, filled her vision as she searched the crowd. One face jumped into her view.

"Roger," she whispered, just loud enough for Mitch to hear.

He took a step forward, his hand going to the small of her back. "What?"

"Roger's back. He's here." She walked up to her fiancée slowly, trying to pretend her world, the one she'd rebuilt over the last month, hadn't just blown apart again.

Mitch watched as Emily took Roger's hand and led him into the tavern. He began to understand what it meant to lose in love. It was not better love and lose. It was better not to love at all.

Jonah kept an eye on the people, no few of whom were his deputies or Rangers, and the refugees. He was pleased with the group overall, until he saw the way Mitch was watching Emily with one of the men. He walked over to one of the most volatile of his subordinates, wondering what the problem was.

"Problem?" he asked Mitch.

"He's back," Mitch replied, not looking at Jonah. "Roger - her fiancée."

"Mitch," Jonah said, noting the rage and hate that was building in blue eyes, "don't do anything stupid. I'd rather not kill you."

Mitch's face snapped over to his boss, he looked down a bit to see Jonah's expression. Mitch was just a bit taller than Jonah, and it was enough to make giving orders awkward at times. Well, it would have been, if Jonah hadn't been such an ornery cuss.

"Boss?" he asked, wondering what Jonah was talking about.

"Murder is a crime. You kill him, it's murder." Jonah's eyes were cold and calm. "You forget already?"

"No, Boss," Mitch said, submitting to Jonah's leadership again. "But-" Protests welled up in him, but he had no way to make them clear.

"I know." Jonah paused. "Give her some time. He's not going to be the man she knew. She sure as hell isn't the woman he loved. Give them time to realize it won't work and see where she sleeps tonight. That will tell you more than anything else."

"So if she comes to me-"

"I didn't say that. See where she sleeps, not with whom she sleeps." The formal language made Jonah grin. "If I know Em, and I'm pretty sure I do by now, she's going to sleep alone until she figures out what she wants."

Mitch hesitated, then nodded. "I'll play it your way, Boss, but I don't like it."

"Never said you had to," Jonah said pleasantly. The hard part was over. "Now, go wake up Johnston and Gail nicely, get Darcy and Allison down here, and make sure Gail knows how many people are here. More may be coming. We'll split the group apart to the towns we're in contact with, especially if it's close to 100. No town will absorb more than they can afford to, and we'll make sure medicines and work are available for all."

"Some of these guys look pretty sick, Boss," Mitch said, glad Jonah wanted him to do some real work and irritated that it involved the Greens. He was better than he had been, but he wasn't good yet.

"We've got plenty of small mending tasks that need to be done, and even more sorting and recording. If they can write, type, or move their arms, we're good." Jonah looked around, counting the group. "Not many here. Might be more, though, waiting to see how we treat them." He looked over at Mitch. "What the hell are you waiting for? An invitation from Congress? Get moving."

"Right, Boss." With that, Mitch headed for the Green house, trying to keep Emily out of his mind. Mostly, he succeeded.

Jonah watched Mitch leave and sighed. Of all the trouble they had, the last thing he needed was to have Em get stirred up again.

"Well, it's better than being shot at," he muttered to himself as he walked back to the tavern. Jonah thought for a minute about his daughter, his volatile deputy, his daughter's high school sweetheart, Jake's current affair with Heather, and Emily's once-absent fiancee. "So far," he amended.

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Heather and Jake walked down the street toward Town Hall. It wasn't far, but it was a pleasant distance and the wind wasn't so bad on the porch of the city building. Although he knew that Heather wasn't angry, he wasn't entirely certain the conversation he knew was coming would entail.

"So," Heather said, stopping with him in front of the doors of the Hall. The eagle's spread wings gleamed darkly in the streetlights. "How's Emily?"

"She's fine," Jake replied, his tone reflecting his confusion. Opening his mouth, he took in a breath and then paused. He had no idea what to ask.

"You're worried I'm going to do something drastic, don't you?" Heather's eyes were intent upon Jake's face, knowing that he wouldn't come out and say it.

"Yeah."

"Relax, Jake. I'm not jealous, and I won't let you be jealous, either." She took a deep breath and started to say something, but the sudden shift of Jake's attention brought her up short. "What is it?"

"Run get Eric. He's inside." When Heather didn't immediately move, he jerked his head toward the road and said, "People."

Heather didn't wait to reply. She left Jake there, his hand on his sidearm, and tore inside, calling for Eric. Eric's response was gratifyingly prompt. So were the duty officer and clerk in the Sheriff's Office.

"People coming in," Heather rushed. "Don't know the numbers. Jake's outside, on watch. Spotted them first."

"Did he give any of the codes?" Eric asked, thinking of the danger signals the Tybee Rangers had put in place when they were the Jericho Rangers. "Anything?"

"No. I think they're refugees, or at least hurt enough that he didn't need the danger signals." She paused. "Should I call up the command?"

"No, I'll get Jonah. We'll get the rest of them in as needed." He started for the door, pulling on his coat. "Best to go to the Clinic, let them know to expect a large number of people. Then go to the telegraph station. Send word to the rest of the towns that we've got a group coming in and may need to separate them, based upon the numbers involved."

"On it," Heather said, heading for the phone. She could call the Clinic. She'd have to go to the telegraph station in person, since she had one of the Rangers' badges that let her send any emergency message.

The blacksmith had created the badge based upon the sheriff's emblem, the Texas Rangers star, and the Biblical origins of the town's name. The six-point star was stylized and surrounded by a circle. In the center of the star, a cut-out formed a walled town with a trumpet engraved under the word "Ranger". Most badges had a nothing else on them; however, the officers and Runners had an extra engraving. Officers, which included those who would be officers in the Army, had a crossed sabre and trumpet. Runners had a trumpet with wings on it that was oddly reminiscent of the FTD messenger emblem. Thankfully, the smith had formed a gravity-press for the badges early on and could make them as needed. The only official badges were from him, and he was still making the badges for the first two towns. His assistants were working with him every day to keep up with the demand. Ranger badges were in no way confused with the law-enforcement badges the sheriff & deputies used. It was a running joke among Jonah's deputies who were also Rangers that they never knew what badge they were to use. No one, however, said that to Jonah. Those same jokers were quick to add they didn't want to be target practice.

She wasn't a commander or squad leader, like Jake was, but she was considered a Ranger Engineer, which made her an officer of sorts. Given that she wasn't really military-minded, it seemed like a long-winded way to say she might actually know what needed to be done in a situation like this and that she was indeed capable of doing it. Jake had laughed when she said that one morning during training, but had agreed that was indeed what it meant. Jonah hadn't laughed, though, and neither had Marcus. She still wondered why.

Putting everything out of her mind, she relayed information to the Clinic and, at their positive response, hung up and headed out for the telegraphs.

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