Blind, Thick-Headed and Handsome – 38

Having spent the previous day and night crying buckets of tears for her fractured heart, CJ was plum exhausted and proved it by oversleeping the next morning. When she finally opened her eyes she looked at the empty space next to her on the bed and sighed. No husband. Now she really didn't want to get up. Last night wasn't a bad dream after all. Matt was G. O. N. E. gone and she was back to long lonely nights for God knows how long with her pillow as the only object in bed with her. She should be used to that, being single for years, but it was little consolation to her. She already missed him … terribly.

She swung her feet over the side of the bed, determined to get dressed and get something accomplished nonetheless, but as soon as her feet hit the floor she felt excruciating pain. She lifted her leg, resting her right ankle on her left leg to examine the source of pain on the bottom of her foot. The skin was red and slightly swollen. It shouldn't hurt that much, even though it was worse than the previous day. So she tried again, fighting through it and gasping out verbal ouches as she dressed, making a mental note to do something about it as soon as she had breakfast.

A knock came at the door. "CJ? CJ, are you up?"

The familiar female voice startled her at first, but then she remembered: Matt sent Chris to Houston to stay with her.

"Ah, yeah Chris. I am now. Come on in."

As soon as she walked in she looked at CJ's face and saw her puffy red eyes, already knowing the answer to the question she was about to ask.

"Oh, CJ. I heard what happened with Matt yesterday. Are you okay?"

The mere mention of his name caused some tears to reappear – just when she thought she had used them up! Not having the strength to be dishonest, she shook her head, "No."

"I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?"

She thought a moment. No, not really … oh, wait ... actually yes. Could she make her husband reappear so that she could throw her arms around him and hang on for dear life, never to let go? No, of course not. Maybe she could settle for a magic computer. Good ol' Baby was great for occupying her thoughts whenever she had man troubles.

"Did you bring Baby with you?"

"Yes, just finished hooking her up downstairs. Wanna see?"

"Just finished hooking her up? How long have you been here?"

"I arrived around eight this morning."

CJ glanced at the clock, bringing Chris's eyes with her. It was just after ten.

"Dear God! I overslept that much?"

Chris shrugged, not knowing what to say as CJ scrambled towards the door, then complained about the pain in her foot.

"Damn!"

"CJ, oh my gosh! Are you hurt?"

In more ways than one, she thought. But, verbalizing all that would be redundant.

"I wore these new heels last week and my foot's been a little sore ever since."

"A little sore?" Chris glared at her.

"Okay, very sore. I'll see a doctor soon, okay? Just help me get downstairs, would ya?"

Chris shook her head disapprovingly and obliged. She knew if Matt was present he wouldn't hear of CJ walking on a sore foot for even a second and scoop her up in his arms and carry her all the way to the emergency room if he had to. But, alas, he wasn't there. A void filled the mansion in his absence even though a quartet of people occupied its walls.

As they made their way to the top of the stairs, they heard male voices talking from the living room. At first CJ raised her hopes, thinking that Chris was in on some kind of sweet prank, but as she looked down the staircase and towards the living room, she realized the voices belonged to other Houstons.

"Will?"

Father and son both looked up, noticing she was favoring her right foot. "Hey, CJ! You need some help up there?" Will asked.

She shook her head while Chris emphatically nodded.

He rushed up the staircase and met her at the top. "You know, all you have to do is ask."

"Will, what are you doing here?"

"The institution was nice, but it felt too much like prison. The case manager said I had enough of that in Cambodia, that I could go to meetings and check in with her once a day instead of residing there full time."

She looked sideways at him. "Matt called you, didn't he?"

He answered her without emotion. "I don't know what you're talking about, CJ."

She smirked. "Sure. Well, okay. Either way I'm glad to have you around."

"So you don't mind me staying here with you, Dad and Chris?"

"No, not at all."

He smiled. "Thanks. By the way, what's going on with your foot?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Nothing? Right. Okay, well, we'll deal with that later. Right now there's a surprise for ya in the kitchen," he informed her.

"A surprise?"

Could it be that it was THE surprise that Matt had second thoughts and returned for her? Suddenly her spirits were lifted, wanting so much to run down the steps and see for herself, but unfortunately, the flesh was quite weak.

"Do you want some help?" Will asked again.

She nodded and Will put his arm around her to support her weight, trying to navigate a few steps when he had a better idea.

"Aw hell," he commented as he lifted her into his arms and carried her down the remaining steps … just as his cousin would have done.

"Will! Oh, for crying out loud. You don't have to … Will!," she shrieked as they traversed the steps.

When they reached the bottom she smiled and shook her head as he set her down.

"You didn't have to do that, Will," she said as she started limping ahead of them towards the kitchen.

Will and Roy glanced at each other knowing the opposite was true.

She followed the tempting aroma into the kitchen and ran into none other than Prince Polansky. Most women would be thrilled to see a gourmet chef standing in her kitchen, but all CJ could think was darn, it wasn't her Prince.

"Hello CJ!"

"Prince! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I had nothing to do so I thought I'd stop by, whip up some of my favorite recipes for you while you're in town."

She smirked. "Matt called you, didn't he?"

He hung his head.

"Well, he didn't want me to worry that you were two were … ya know … dead," he humbly confessed.

Logical, she thought.

"Well, it smells wonderful, but I'm afraid I don't exactly have much of an appetite."

A pair of voices entered the room. "Not a problem. Reinforcements are here!" Bo and Lamar quipped.

Matt spent the majority of his trip back to Los Angeles thinking about two women, revisiting everything that had happened in his personal life in the last 24 hours, the past three months, and especially the past year. Growing closer to CJ, then putting up barriers and backing away, foolishly thinking that he could prevent himself from falling in love with her, not wise enough to know that fighting the power of that emotion was about the dumbest thing a man could do. Rationalizing that if he fell in love with her, he'd surely lose her, and keeping her at arms length was far better than any of the extreme alternatives.

Oh, but then in a moment of uber-courageousness (or vulnerability) he put his fears aside, took a risk and made love to CJ, and for either the fear of changing his mind or the fact that he respected her so much, married her the very next day. In the weeks following, he was happier he had ever been and felt as though he was being rewarded for taking such an emotional plunge. But, just when he thought he had conquered all of his demons, that he might have finally turned the right corner in the relationship department, his past came jolting back. Now the woman who he might have married, who carried his offspring, his only blood relative, was dead. And how was he dealing with the guilt? By doing what he did best: chasing a pair of terrorists almost single-handedly… and breaking CJ's heart in the process. She was the last person in the world he wanted to hurt, but he didn't know how else to deal with what he thought was his sole responsibility. He had to take the chance that after solving Elizabeth's murder, CJ would take him back and they could pick up where they left off.

"I have our fake passports all ready to go," Murray said, greeting him as soon as he bounded off the elevator.

Matt looked at him quizzically. "How'd you get fake passports on such short notice?"

"Little favor from a person who shall remain nameless. I got them out of a little debacle with the IRS once."

Matt nodded, knowing better than to question the secret acquaintances of Murray Chase.

"Let's see here… Floyd Herman … Floyd Herman?"

Murray shrugged. "I wanted to use a name for you that wouldn't be close to your real personality."

"Great. What's yours?"

Murray flashed his passport.

"Rex Stone," he said proudly.

"Rex Stone?"

"Uh huh. Always wanted to see what it would be like to have a stud name."

Matt shook his head. "Okay, well no time to waste. Hoyt's due here any second to give us an update on the Sheridans. I'll call CJ for an update from Baby once we get to the airport."

Despite all the well-meaning company at the mansion, CJ's heart ached for the man who left her a day earlier. Oh, she intellectually knew she couldn't just sit around, wasting away the days like some pathetic maiden from a nineteenth century sonnet, but she seemed powerless to do anything else.

Roy entered the study and saw her sitting at the large window seat, with her legs tucked underneath her and her eyes fixed on the darkness outside.

"I'm sure Matt misses you, too."

She looked up. "Oh, Roy I didn't hear you come in."

He took a seat next to her and patted her leg.

"You, uh, make that doctor appointment, yet?"

"Ya mean for my foot?"

"Yes …"

"You noticed."

"A blind man would notice how badly you're hurt."

"No, he wouldn't, Uncle Roy."

"Huh?"

"Sorry. Inside joke."

"Oh, and here I thought you were trying to avoid my question."

No, she was fixed on her broken heart. It hurt worse than her foot.

"I made an appointment for 1:00 tomorrow afternoon."

He rolled his eyes.

"Uncle Roy … I had to use an alias so I didn't get in as soon as I would have had I booked an appointment with my own name."

"Ya know if Mattlock were here …"

"Well, he isn't..."

"He'd have my head if something ever happened to you."

Especially after their last conversation, she thought.

"You two didn't part on good terms, did you?"

He paused a moment, thinking over her question, then shook his head. "No, not exactly. But, I'm waiting on a phone call from him. Maybe we'll patch things up that way. Murray told Chris they'd be checking in at nine every evening, no matter where they were."

Her expression improved as she looked at the clock. "It's quarter to now!"

He nodded. "Gives you just enough time to get some food in you, since you didn't eat much dinner."

She looked at him a little startled. Boy, she couldn't get anything past Mr. Fifty Years a Spy!

"Just not hungry, Uncle Roy," she argued as she started primping as if she was about to go on a date.

"Not hungry? Okay, have it your way. By the way, while you were sleeping earlier this evening, Chris called the Novellis to tell them not to worry if they heard news about the death of you and Mattlock. And we released a story to the news stating that due to you and your husband's fame, a private funeral was being held in your untimely demises."

She nodded. "What about funeral arrangements for Elizabeth?"

"We're footing the bill."

"Matt would want to be there, pay his respects."

He agreed. "We can hold off for a few days, that's all. The funeral director says he's getting backlogged. It's the busy season."

"Busy season?"

He nodded. "The Dodgers are in a slump."

She angled her eyes downward at him and was about to chastise him on his bad joke when the phone rang.

"It's him! It's him!" she exclaimed, hopping over to the desk on one foot and picking up the receiver, then pausing, remembering she was supposed to be among the deceased.

"Hola..." she answered, disguising her voice with a fake accent. "Esta es casa de la Houston…"

"You always did do a lousy French accent."

"Matt," she said softly, her voice filled with emotion. "It's Spanish, Esposo."

"Oh, sorry … Esposa. How's the afterlife treating you?"

"Well, aside from missing you like crazy, it's pretty boring."

"I miss you too, CJ," he said, pausing a bit to gather his emotions. "Did, ah, did you and Chris get Baby hooked up and running?"

"Yes we did and I did some checking for you. The Sheridans have been following a pattern ever since they escaped from prison a few weeks ago."

"Hoyt told me they were last spotted at LAX, boarding an international flight. That's where Murray and I are now."

"They're probably thinking their work is done and are heading into hiding, or going onto their next assignment."

"Gives me an advantage since they still think we're dead."

"I still don't like it. It's dangerous…"

"I know CJ, I'll be careful. Our flight leaves for the UK in about ten minutes. Lloyd Hodgkins of the British Consolate arranged a secret meeting for us there with the head of their anti-terrorism forces."

"Now boarding for flight 404…"

"CJ, I have to go …"

She gripped the phone tighter in her hand, trying desperately not to cry, but it was no use. All she had to do was utter his name and she broke down.

"Matt …"

A lump caught his throat, too. "I'll call you tomorrow."

Too emotional to continue, she handed the phone to Roy.

"Mattlock …"

But it was too late. He had already hung up the phone.