"Their Fettuccini Alfredo isn't as good as yours," Jack said as he set down his fork.
Francie felt her face warm. "Thank you. But I think their chef is a little more talented."
He looked at her for a moment, and she felt a wonderful heat start to spread through her body. "I don't give empty compliments, Francie. If I say it, I mean it."
She grinned and looked down. "I know. It's just--" Unable to find the words she wanted to say, she took in a deep breath and returned her gaze to him. Instead of finishing her thought, she said, "I can't believe you'd never tried it before I made it for you."
It had been their only dinner together that hadn't been served by a waiter. She'd insisted on being able to fix him something at least one time, although he'd said he preferred seeing her relax the entire night instead of worrying about cooking. He'd given into her demand of eating at home with more ease than she'd expected.
It had been a special night. After he'd helped her wash the dishes, they'd found their way to the couch. But unlike most dates, they had sat next to each other and watched a movie--something that had been re-run to death since its release in the early 90s, but Jack had never seen it.
As the credits ran, they'd necked on the couch. The night had been filled with tender and slow lovemaking. Her heart still ached as she remembered that night. It was the first time she'd ever thought that she might be in love with Jack Bristow. She'd cried the next morning in the shower as Jack fixed her breakfast.
Looking over her shoulder, she blinked away tears. She barely noticed the discreet dance floor in the corner, but Jack apparently thought she was looking at it. "Would you like to dance?"
"Yes, please," she answered, tossing her napkin next to her plate. Jack took her hand, and they walked towards where a few other couples were swaying to the music. Being a restaurant owner, she noted how quickly the bus boys moved to clear their table. Except for their wine glasses, it would be clean by the time they returned.
Jack's arms went around her just as the last strand of music filled the air. She grinned and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I tried to talk to Sydney last night," she started. Even though she knew they needed to have this conversation, she had been avoiding it all night.
The band started playing again and every muscle in her body tensed. His fingers squeezed hers before relaxing again. She couldn't believe her bad luck. Not this song. Not now. Looking up at him, she said, "We can go sit back down."
He looked like he was considering it, but then shook his head. He started leading her around the dance floor. He was amazingly graceful. Even though she hadn't been that familiar with slow dancing before dating him, he led her so easily that she felt like she was floating on a cloud. "No," he said. "I want to dance with you."
"My aunt used to baby-sit me, and my cousin Jenny used to play this song over and over. She loved General Hospital. Still does, actually," she said, knowing that she was sounding like an idiot but needing to talk over the song. "They used this song a theme song for Luke and Laura. Well, they weren't actually 'Luke and Laura' then because Laura had died--"
She almost tripped over her feet, but Jack's arms kept her looking graceful. "I'm sorry," she said, not apologizing for her clumsiness.
The bandleader told them to laugh instead of cry when they thought of Laura, but Francie didn't want to listen to him. She didn't want to think about Laura at all. Jack's wife. Sydney's mom. The saint who had died too young.
"I remember hearing this on the radio," Jack said, each word clipped and passionless. She doubted he listened to the radio much, especially top 40, but "Think of Laura" had been one of those songs played over and over again.
"I always think of this balcony scene with Laura watching Luke and him not knowing she was there," she mumbled. It was a vague memory, and she wasn't even sure why she remembered Genie Francis crying on that balcony, but she did. Just as she remembered her cousin being all teary eyed as she watched that scene. Now when she heard this song, she'd think of Laura Bristow. And Jack.
"I tossed the radio against the wall," he admitted. He looked down at her, and she saw the pain in his eyes. She didn't want to see that pain, she didn't want to know how much he cared for his wife. She had a million questions she wanted to ask him about her.
"I know you'd want it that way, Dear Laura," the singer sang as the music ended.
Jack started walking her back to the table. "I don't want dessert tonight," he said.
Her heart fell, knowing that meant the end of the evening. An early end. They couldn't go back to her place as usual; Sydney was home. "I understand."
Stopping, he turned to look at her. "Perhaps we could have drinks at my apartment."
She smiled. "I'd like that."
***
The credits ended, and Will looked over at her. After letting her stew all night, it was clear that he'd decided it was time to discuss what she'd been thinking about instead of watching the movie. "Are you ready to talk now?"
She looked at him and feigned innocence. "What?" It was then that she noticed the tingling feeling in her fingers. She had been sitting still the entire night with her arms crossed and her spine stiff. Her muscles were starting to protest. Reaching one arm across her body, she pulled on it, enjoying the stretch.
"I figured you wanted to talk to me since you invited me over, but you haven't said a word all night," he replied. She didn't say anything as she stretched her other arm, but she knew she didn't have to admit the truth. They both knew he was right. "Not even after Jack left with Francie."
Tears filled her eyes. "What do you think about it?"
He shifted in his chair and reached for his beer. He'd been careful all night to set it back in a position so that it looked like Sydney could be the one drinking it. She'd been surprised to see him grab it earlier; it wasn't often that he touched alcohol anymore. "I don't know. I guess I'm mostly shocked."
"Shocked?"
"What did you want me to say, Sydney?" Will ran his hand through his hair. "That I'm angry? I'm not. I wish Francie had told me about it, but I think I can understand why she didn't."
Sydney pushed her hair behind her ear and stood up. "She's ashamed."
"Maybe," Will acquiesced. "I doubt it, but I guess it's possible." He paused for a moment and the look in his eyes made her feel uncomfortable. He knew her, all of her faults and her weaknesses. Her strengths, too. Even Francie didn't know her as well as he did. "But I don't think the biggest problem you have with it is how Francie is feeling."
She looked at him. "My father and best friend are having sex." She almost gagged on the words. "I have all kinds of problems with it."
"No." He stood up and walked towards her. "I think the main problem for you is that you know it's not just sex between them. You wouldn't like it if it was, but you don't think it is, and you like that even less."
Walking around the living room, she grabbed up his beer bottle and finished off the remaining warm liquid. "How do I know that, Will?" Her own anger vibrated back at her, grew. "Dad won't even let me ask questions; he told me at breakfast yesterday that it's none of my business. And that I'm not to bother Francie with any questions or comments." She sounded like a ten year old having a fit to her own ears. "If I have any problems, I'm supposed to take them to him."
"And there's one answer to your question. You know that it's more than sex because Jack's protecting her. He cares enough to protect her. From you." She swallowed the anger that welled up in her, wanting to protest that Francie didn't need protection from her, and Will sighed. "Sydney, you know that Francie loves you. She doesn't want to hurt you. If she's with Jack, she really cares about him."
Some of the ice melted from her heart. Will was right; it hurt even more hearing that they cared for each other. That they hadn't been sneaking around for some hot--and temporary--sex. Watching as her father kissed Francie goodnight had told her Francie's feelings. "I know. And he's going to hurt her."
Will opened his mouth to say something, closed it, and shook his head before walking towards the kitchen. As he reached into the refrigerator, he asked. "Why is he going to hurt her, Sydney?" He pulled out a Coke and headed back into the living room. "How do you know that? Because he's hurt you?"
Sydney spun around on her heels and walked away from him. "We're talking about Jack Bristow."
"Yeah, we are." Will put his hand on her shoulder. "We're talking about the man who tried to protect me from my own mistakes. He risked a lot, Syd, trying to get me back from Khasinau."
"He made the world believe you were a heroin addict, Will," she said. She remembered watching him learn how to deal with everything he'd lost--his job, his reputation, most of his friends. It had been a dark time for him.
He laughed. "And you didn't even utter a protest! Didn't try to suggest even one alternative. You let the world believe I was a heroin addict, too, Sydney. Does that mean you're going to hurt Francie?"
It would be easier to take physical punches instead of emotional ones. She'd thought he would agree with her. That's why she'd made sure he was there before Jack arrived. Instead of being angry, he'd smiled as Francie and Jack stared at one another and told them to have a good night. "My father--"
"Loves you. He protected me because he didn't want you hurt." She shook her head. "Yes, Syd, he did."
"He put you in danger--"
"Because he thought you were in danger from a whistleblower." Will took a step back, and she heard him open his can of soda and take a drink. "He told me in Paris, before I went into that club, that he wouldn't let me be involved if he thought I would be hurt. I believed him, and I still think he was telling me the truth."
"You were tortured." Her stomach twisted as she remembered how he'd looked on that plane. His sweatshirt had been soaked in his own blood. She had been too distracted by Vaughn's loss and her first meeting with her mother in over twenty years to notice how badly he'd looked at the time; it had haunted her later in her nightmares.
"Yeah, I was. And Jack worked to save me. And he held me while I cried," Will admitted.
She walked over to him, and his arms wrapped around her. She cried as he held her. He didn't say anything, didn't make any sound. He just let her cry.
***
They were lying on the couch. Her head was resting on Jack's shoulder. His head was touching hers, and she knew he was watching his own fingers play on her hips. Silence filled the room, but it was comfortable.
Their drinks were sitting on the end table next to them. His was almost empty; hers had barely been touched. She was more of a beer and cooler kind of gal. The scotch had burned its way down her throat and turned her belly into a furnace. Jack had seemed unaffected by the drink's potency.
Lying here with him was relaxing. Last night's silence between her and Sydney had been anything but relaxing. "You told her not to ask any questions," Francie mumbled. She sounded as sleepy as she felt. But they needed to talk about Sydney, and Jack's high-handed handling of the situation.
His fingers continued their soothing motions on her hip. "Yes, I did."
Sydney hadn't actually talked about her conversation with Jack, but Francie wasn't surprised to hear him admit he'd warned her off. Sydney had been furious last night, refusing to even speak unless it was absolutely necessary.
Francie lifted up, resting her arm on his chest. She looked into his eyes and shook her head. "That's not the way to deal with this, Jack. We've got to talk about it."
He looked back at his fingers. "She can talk to me."
She sighed and laid her head back down. "I'm going to get her to talk to me, and you're going to butt out of my relationship with her."
His fingers stopped playing with her hip. She snuggled closer to him. "I know that you were trying to protect me, but I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself, especially where Syd's concerned."
Silence filled the room again, not as comfortable, but not uncomfortable either. Jack's fingers started stroking her hip again, and she felt her eyelids grow heavier. The song they'd danced to earlier played in her head. "You must've loved her a lot," she mumbled before she thought about it.
She didn't know if he tensed, but she did. Every muscle was suddenly wide-awake. She'd never asked about her before. She knew a lot about the woman, but Sydney had always put her on a pedestal. Francie had understood; a dead mother could do no wrong. It wasn't until she'd started dating Jack that she'd found the Saintly Laura Bristow to be a pain.
Francie had never found the courage to ask about her. She considered the subject off limits. She knew Jack did, too. He never mentioned the woman he'd been married to, the woman who'd given him a daughter. Except for his earlier acknowledgement that hearing "Think of Laura" after her death had made him angry, it was almost as if she'd never existed.
"Until I met her, I never knew that I could love someone that much," he said after a few minutes of silence. Someone who didn't know him might think his tone cold, but Francie heard the hint of pain beneath the calmness. "Then I thought I could never love anyone else that much. Until Sydney was born."
Tears stung her eyes. She didn't want to hear about Saint Laura. She didn't want to know about the woman who had made Jack Bristow love her with so much passion. At the same time, she couldn't find the strength to ask him to stop.
"Laura was in so much pain during labor. I remember feeling helpless, and I think I threatened the doctor; he always acted nervous around me afterwards. I also remember hearing Sydney's cries replacing Laura's and being glad that my wife's pain was finally over. Laura looked drained, pale. I glanced at my daughter and thought she was ugly. She was red and wrinkled."
Jack's voice was soft, and Francie knew he was lost in the past. "I started asking the doctor some questions about Laura. I heard a nurse call me 'Daddy,' and when I turned around, she put Sydney in my arms. She was wrapped in a pink blanket, and she looked up at me and cried."
He didn't say the words, but Francie heard them--"And I lost my heart again."
She lay there thinking for a long time. She almost fell asleep, and she ordered herself to get up. Her body answered that it would move in a few more minutes. "Spend the night," Jack said.
"Hmmm. I'm tired. You're tired--"
"Just sleep," he said.
She knew she should go home. Just sleeping with someone was in some ways far more intimate than having sex with them. But the old lie that this was only about sex had fallen apart the second Sydney had walked in on them, and she was too tired of denying how much she cared for him. She wanted to enjoy every moment she would have with him.
She nodded, and then sighed as he picked her up and carried her into his room. He sat her down on the cool duvet--gray, she noticed, like everything in the place. Everything that wasn't black. She'd never realized there were so many shades of gray.
He unzipped her dress and helped her stand. It fell to the floor. He rolled her pantyhose--the first pair to make it through one of their dates whole--down her legs. He pulled back the covers and silently urged her to slide beneath them. She did.
Through half-closed eyes, she watched as he put her shoes beneath a chair and her pantyhose across the back of the same chair. Her dress he hung up on a peg on his closet door, which tugged at her heart just as watching him undress tugged at her hormones.
When he joined her beneath the covers, she turned and laid her head on his shoulder. Sleep overtook her.
***
Sydney's earlier crying jag had made her eyes ache, but she'd asked Will to start the next movie anyway. Sitting next to her best friend, thinking about what he'd said, she'd realized it was up to her to take care of the problem. And she knew exactly how to do it.
Will studied her for a minute as the credits began running. She couldn't even say what the movie was about, but it was now over. She almost jumped when he said, "Francie's important to you. Jack knows that. He won't hurt her if he can help it, Syd. And you should know that."
"I hope so," she answered. She would make sure that he didn't hurt her. Ending this relationship before anyone got too involved was the best way to go. "I hope that neither one of them hurts the other, but--" She shook her head. "They are so different."
"Yeah, they are." Will grinned, and Sydney questioned how he could be in such good spirits when Francie was playing with fire. "But then Amanda's different from me, and I think that's a good thing. I think Francie would be good for your dad, and I think Jack will be good for Francie. If you let them."
"I don't have any say in it," she mumbled. But she planned on having the final word.
Shaking his head, her friend chuckled. "You have every say in it. You can make them stop seeing each other, Syd, if you really push the issue."
She crossed her arms, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was heading. She remembered Jack's earlier warning that it was none of her business. No questions. No comments. "You don't know my father."
"I know him." Will leaned forward. "But I don't have your baggage." He picked up the empty beer bottle and stared at it. "It's funny to say this, but I'm glad that I found out about SD-6. Not only because I got to meet the real you, but because I found strength I didn't even know I had."
She stared over at him. He had loved being a reporter, had wanted to be a reporter for most of his life. He'd lost his dream because of her life, because he'd stumbled on the secrets she'd kept. She remembered how the life had drained out of him as he'd watched everything he'd worked for fall apart.
But then she remembered the last six months. All the changes he'd made. How he had started almost embracing this new life, and she wondered if she would've had his strength in the same circumstances.
His cell phone rang, and they both knew who it was. Syd watched his face break into a smile and heard how his voice changed as he talked to the lady on the other end. He always sounded different when he talked to Amanda. "Yeah, I'm going to be heading out soon. Did you have fun with the girls?" He laughed. "I'll be home a few minutes after you. Got to give you some time to warm up the sheets first."
Laughing, he told Amanda that he loved her and hung up the phone. He lost his smile when he looked at Sydney. He sighed and slid back down on the couch. Putting his arm around her, he leaned towards her and said, "Look, Syd, I know you're used to saving the world."
She flinched. "I don't--"
"Yes, you do. While the rest of us are sleeping, you're out taking care of stuff we don't want to believe exists, and that's one reason why I love you. In a world of apathy, you try to make a difference."
Tears pricked at her eyes again. "Will--"
"Yeah, I know," he said, laying his head on hers. "Someone might get hurt. Someone you care about may end up with a broken heart, but, Syd, it's not yours to change. It's not your right to make that choice. Remember, sometimes you just have to find the strength to accept what you cannot change."
She recognized the words. "The serenity prayer."
He pulled away and laughed. "Yeah. Sometimes I got so sick of hearing that damn thing. I would go into my NA meetings and want to scream 'But you don't understand! I'm not like you all!' But I was. I am. I had to learn that lesson, too. You can't change the past. I can't change the past. My reputation was gone, and I had to figure out a new path for my life. And I'm pretty happy with where I'm at today."
He sighed and smiled. "I don't mean to preach, Sydney, but I know it's hard. I can't imagine what I would do if Amy started dating someone your dad's age. Hell, I don't know what I would do if she was dating your dad. But I think you need to leave it alone. Drop whatever plans you've been making--"
She looked over at him with her jaw dropped, and he grinned. "I know you. Remember? You're the gal who's used to action. Sitting back and doing nothing isn't going to be easy for you."
"I can't do anything, can I?" She closed her eyes. Will was probably right; Francie already cared. She would be hurt no matter what was done now to protect her. "I mean, if I try to do anything--"
"It's their relationship, Syd. Sit back, let them work on it. And try to forge a new relationship with both of them."
"I liked the ones we had," she complained. She started thinking about the last two years. The starts and stops, the forwards and retreats, in her relationship with her father. "At least I liked the one I had with Francie."
Will stood up. "Life's changed. You can't ignore what's happened."
Sydney thought of the scene that had greeted her two nights before. "No, I can't."
"Talk to Francie."
Looking over at the clock, she told him, "I'm going to. Tonight." She noticed the look on Will's face and had to laugh, even if it did hold a note of pain. "Okay, I'm in denial. Obviously Francie isn't coming home tonight. So, we'll talk tomorrow morning."