Writer's Note: Holy COW it's been too long since I updated! o.o Where do the weeks go? I hope Time is recycling them responsibly. All bad jokes aside, I made a minor correction in the last chapter to make one of Renee's comments more understandable. When I had her say "FBI," I meant to single out a specific time, namely her work under Larry at the D.C. branch, which was where she worked when Jack met her for the first time. :)
My blue suit feels almost silky against my legs. I look pretty nice, I think. My natural red hair color has formed a halo shape around the crown of my head, now, spreading further down my hair every time I turn around to notice. I've pulled it back and knotted it in a bun at my nape. I'm not going to get too crazy with my wardrobe or makeup, since I very well may be doing some martial arts exercises. I do dab some neutral makeup on in the corner of my eyes, but that's it.
Jack actually whistles when I walk out of the bedroom. "Renee, you're lucky your boss is a woman," he says.
"Oh, I am?" I say as he steps up and runs his hands down the suit's blazer.
"Mmm-hmm," he says. "If it was a man, I'd have to shoot him."
I chuckle. "Oh, stop. If I shot every woman that looked twice at you…" Audrey would be dead. The thought makes me grim in seconds, but I quickly smile.
Jack hasn't noticed my change in demeanor, or if he has, he doesn't say anything. "Do you have any idea when you'll be home?" he asks.
"No, I'm not sure. But I can't imagine I'll be out too late." I shrug.
"Well, if you are going to be later – I'm not trying to be overprotective, but – if you are, would you give me a call to let me know?"
"I know you're not being overprotective," I say. "Of course I'll call." I look over his shoulder at the clock. "I'd better get going."
"Okay," he murmurs.
Earlier, I'd packed one of Jack's old backpacks with a pair of sweats and a tee. I get it, go to the door and open it, and then stop, hesitant. "Aren't you going to wish me luck?" I say with a small, nervous smile.
"No," he says frankly.
"Oh?"
"You're not going to need it." Jack smiles.
The nervous smile broadens into a natural one. "Thanks."
"Not bad, Ms. Walker," Ms. Taylor says. She wipes the sweat from her brow.
We've been taking this session easy, but we've been at it for nearly forty minutes. My wound starts to burn with more than just exhilaration, and I say, "Thank you, but I think we should stop now."
"That's fine," she says. "C'mon. I've got a microfridge in my office."
I follow her in and she opens the door to the tiny fridge. I take the water bottle she offers me and twist the cap off, drinking in deeply.
Ms. Taylor swallows and sets her bottle down on the edge of her desk, covering what appears to be the last free spot on her desk. "You're pretty good. A little out of practice and somewhat limited because of your injury, but still pretty good."
"Thank you," I say.
She checks her watch. "The adults should be here for the afternoon session soon. Since you've never really taught before, I'm going to have you observe today's sessions."
"All right."
"Do you have any questions?"
"No."
True enough, about ten minutes later, men and women starting filing into the room. Most of them eye me in the first few minutes, not maliciously or anything; just neutral noticing, maybe with a dash of curiosity.
At five past two, Ms. Taylor announces me. "She'll either be teaching the afternoon classes or helping with paperwork. We haven't quite decided yet." She grins at me, and I smile back. She's a lot more at ease when she's with these people, I realize. Some of them smile, too, and nod.
"All right, let's get started," she says.
I get home to find a note on the counter.
"Renee – Went to pick up groceries. Be back soon. Love you. –Jack."
Then the door opens behind me. I turn, and my lips curl up in a smile. Jack walks in carrying four paper bags against his chest. "Hey. Let me get one of those for you."
"No, it's okay. I've got them." He kisses me on his way to the kitchen. "How'd it go today?"
"Fine. We did a little light sparring – don't worry, I didn't do anything more than I can handle," I add, seeing him glance twice, "and then I observed her afternoon classes." My smile grows wider. "The kids are really cute. Some of them, they're trying so hard to look intimidating, and it has exactly the opposite effect!" I snort.
"Kim used to do that," he says, getting a distant, nostalgic look. Then he shakes his head and grins back at me. "And now she can pull it off. The first of many good reasons why kids shouldn't grow up."
"C'mon…" I say, digging into the bags. I put the milk in the fridge. Jack hands me the sandwich meat and I put that away, too. "You don't believe that."
"I don't?"
"You can't fool me, Jack. Kim's a fine woman, and you're proud of her. You're proud to be her father, too."
His expression falls into a darker one. "I can't take credit for it," he says, putting the bread in the cupboard. "I wasn't around much, and when I was, Teri and I argued. Then…when I had only one thing that mattered…I took Kim into my world and she pushed me away for it. Rightfully so."
I put a hand on his arm, just below his sleeve, and he stops. "Kim was an adult," I say. "She didn't have to take the job at CTU. The things she's seen are not your fault."
"The things she's seen? What about the things she's done because of me?"
Taken aback, I ask, "What do you mean?"
"Kim killed someone. She took a gun, leveled it at his chest, and pulled the trigger. Twice. And she did it because I told her to."
The idea of Kim killing anyone baffles me. His words replay in my head, and no matter how many times I go over them, I still can't picture her killing someone. Then I realize that I've been quiet too long. "I'm sure there was a good reason for it." Jack himself would never kill anyone unless absolutely necessary, let alone tell Kim to do so.
"Of course there was a good reason," he says, laughing shortly. "The bastard was trying to kill her. Just like he killed his wife. It was him or my daughter, and that's no contest. God…I would have killed him myself, but I wasn't there. So I told her to do it." He falls silent for a moment, and then says, "But I never wanted her to have to do that. All the lives I've taken – I took them to protect this country. But I joined the forces…I won't lie. I mostly did it to piss my father off. But I also did it because I knew the world was dangerous, and if I was ever going to have a family, I wanted to be in the first line of defense." He laughs again, but hollowly. "And look how well that turned out."
His wife died, his daughter shut him out, and Audrey was tortured. I can see what he means. Still… I slide my hand up to the back of his nape. "It turned out pretty well," I say, my tone light. "Your daughter had the chance to grow into a responsible, intelligent woman because of you. That's no small feat." He doesn't look convinced. I step closer and go nose-to-nose with him. "Lesser men would have crumbled."
Jack puts a hand on my cheek. His thumb rubs my skin softly. "Thank you," he murmurs.
"I love you."
Janis calls me about twenty minutes after we finish putting the groceries away. "Hey, how's everything going?"
"Not too bad, and you?"
"Eh, morning sickness. It's not fun, but it's not terrible either. You had your first day today, right?" she says.
"Yes. Ms. Taylor is great."
"Ms. Taylor?"
"Alicia Taylor, yeah."
"No relation to Allison Taylor?" she says. I can just picture her eyebrows rising.
"I don't think so, Janis. Just because they share the same last name, it doesn't mean they're related. Do you have any idea how many Taylors there are in the U.S.?"
"No. I can find out in three seconds, though."
"Show-off," I say teasingly. "Anyway. Aside from the morning sickness, how're you feeling?" I bite my lower lip. The questions I want to ask the most are the ones that seem most juvenile – "What's it like being pregnant?" and, "Have you had any cravings?"
"Not too shabby. Rob says I'm glowing, but he's always said that, whether I'm trying to look nice or just getting out of bed," she says, laughing.
"He sounds like a good man," I say. I smile.
"He is." She pauses. "Speaking of good men…"
"Yes?"
"How is Jack?"
She floors me. "Janis!" I say.
"What?" she says, almost defensively.
"You called him a good man. You've never done that before." As much as I know she's tried to keep her resentment toward Jack from showing, I know she's never liked him. "Thank you," I say, honestly.
"Yeah, well, so long as he's good to you," she says. Her breathing hitches just once, in a hesitant manner, and suddenly I realize there's an elephant that's about to be reintroduced. "What's going on with…you know…Audrey?" she finishes.
"Nothing," I say. "They're friends. As far as I know, they've only met once."
"As far as you know."
"And it wouldn't bother me if they met again," I continue strongly. I'm not entirely sure if I'm telling the truth or not, but the feeling is moot because I would never try to stop him from seeing her anyway.
"I hope your trust isn't wasted on him, Renee," she says.
"It's not."
After dinner, Jack and I watch a James Bond movie. The outdated effects are funny, but the storylines are still good. I remember watching movies like this as a kid. I would picture my dad as James, able to do anything. My parents, without realizing it, only reinforced this idea in my head. At the end of the movie, my mom would stand up and pretend to swoon, saying, "Oh, James," and my father would sweep her close and repeat that famous line, "It's Bond, James Bond."
About three quarters into the movie, I hear a soft snore, and realize that Jack has fallen asleep. It makes me smile. I lay my head against his shoulder and sigh silently. These are the moments that most people will never appreciate. Anyone else would be annoyed if someone started snoring through a movie. I'm just glad that after a lifetime of all-day crises, Jack has the luxury to fall asleep during a movie.
I close my eyes. You win again, Mr. Bond. You always do. The rest of us in the protective fields are grateful to live another day.