Seriously?

by Camille2

Ultimately, the story of a soul that was lost. Jack's soul.

2. Chapters 9 through 20

Chapter 9: "The great thing in this world is not so much where we are, but in which direction we are moving." (Oliver Wendell Holmes):

A few days later, Will finally accepted the girls' offer of pizza and a video. He watched a lot of videos, he was thinking. He had been avoiding Syd and Francie, wondering what Jack might have said about the "intervention", although he expected that Jack would have only given the bare minimum of information. After all, Jack wasn't what one would call a motormouth. To his relief, when he came in the house, Francie merely hugged him and said, "We're so glad you were able to talk with Mr. Bristow about whatever the problem was, Will. Syd was right - man to man was the best way to go on this." He blanched, but neither Syd nor Francie betrayed by so much as a flicker that the comment was meant as a wink-wink type of joke. "Yeah, Jack was right. He always is, well, almost always. I'm back on the straight and narrow, now."

Three-quarters of the way through the movie, Chocolat, Will's cell phone rang. "Hi, Will, it's Jack."

Will felt his heart begin to pound, this was the first time he had heard from Jack since leaving the other night. "I've been trying to reach Sydney. Her cell phone batteries must be out. Is she there?"

"Sure. Just a minute -"

"No, hold on. I want you to know that, remember how I said I had things to do?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I'm about to go out of town on 'business' and I wanted to let you know I'll talk to you when I return."

"Oh! Okay. Be careful."

"I will. Let me speak to Syd." He handed the phone over to Syd, who took it into the other room.

Francie asked, "That was Jack wasn't it?" "Um, yes, why?"

"I can always tell by the look on your face. You get all goofy and turn red. Is there anything you want to talk about, Will?" "Are you kidding? No." "I mean when Syd's not here." "NO!"

"What are you two arguing about?" Syd asked with a smile when she reentered the room.

"Will's love life," Francie said firmly. Will stared at her, mouth agape. Was she insane? Jack was right, she was the most oblivious person in the world to think that this was in any way an appropriate conversation. Geez, now he was sounding like Vaughn, "appropriate conversation"? Time to steer away from these rocks.

Will asked, "So where is your dad headed this time, anyway?" "Paris."

"Paris!" Francie exclaimed. "I wish I'd known. There's a flavoring I would have asked him to pick up for me." Both Will and Syd stared at her. "Do you honestly think my dad is going to traipse around Paris groceries looking for your flavoring?"

"Well..he owes me."

"For what?" Will asked. Before Francie could answer, her phone rang. "Shoot, it's the restaurant, probably some non-emergency that's going to take forever. Just go ahead with the movie."

"No, that's fine, Francie, we'll wait," Will said, although Syd had already turned the move back on and her attention to it. He sighed, but it wasn't like he really cared about the movie. As Francie walked away, she leaned over Will and whispered in his ear, "Although he doesn't know it yet, for setting him up to do that intervention with you. That's what."

Will leaped up to follow her. When they were out of earshot of Sydney, he grabbed her arm and said, "Tell them to wait a minute." Once she did, he demanded, "What do you mean, he owes you for the intervention?"

"You both do. Honestly, how long were the two of you going to go on, without doing anything about what you were feeling about each other?" She laughed at the look of complete stupefaction on Will's face. "And really, you were making me nuts with worry with that drinking after the whole heroin thing."

"Whatever," Will said dismissively and then continued, "The question is, do you really think, how could you tell that Jack had feelings?"

"Well, it IS almost impossible, but since he lets you tease him, and doesn't kill you for that Tippin-family touchy feely stuff-"

"What do you mean?"

"In the beginning, he would act very - Jack-like - you know, stiff and uncomfortable, whenever you touched him the way you do everybody. And now."

"You're killing me here, Francie. 'And now' what?"

"Three weeks ago, you were sitting next to him on the sofa and you got up to get something, most likely more food," she laughed, while Will made hurry up motions with his hands. "You probably didn't even realize it, but you patted his thigh with your hand when you got up. The way you did it and on his thigh yet - it was really going over the line from touchy-feely stuff into.I don't want to know, frankly. I was amazed, I couldn't believe you had done that although I knew it was totally unconscious. I looked at Jack's face to see what Bristow grimace he'd be wearing while he made plans to kill you. But-" she paused.

"I'm gonna kill you," Will growled.

"But he was just looking at his leg and then he reached out his own hand and, I still can't believe it, he just rubbed, lightly, where you had rubbed. Then he looked away. The look of confusion on his face, brief as it was before he masked it, was confirmation of what I had suspected about the two of you the last few months. And then when Syd brought up your drinking around him, well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out cause and effect. But yeah, I think Jack will thank me some day for suggesting that intervention."

"Wow. I didn't.So you think there's a chance?"

"If he lets himself, if you don't allow him to withdraw. Take the risk. You'll have to be the one to take the risks."

"Well, I am persistent."

"No kidding. Now, let me handle my own crisis and you go back to worrying about yours."

The minute he reentered the room, Will turned to Syd and asked, "So, Paris? Weren't you supposed to be going there this week?"

"Yeah, but my dad got me out of it."

"Why?"

"The mission was with Sark and my dad knows how I feel about him. Anyway, he said there was someone he wanted to meet with in Paris and decided to kill two birds with one stone and asked Sloane if he could take the mission instead of me."

"In your place?"

"That's what I said, Will."

"With Sark?"

"Are you deaf? Yes."

"Are you blind?"

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind." They sat there for a minute, Syd staring at Will wondering what that conversation was really about.

Francie darted through. "Sorry guys, I have to go to the restaurant for a while." Syd teased, "So now it's you who never has time for us due to your stinkin' job?" "Ha, ha." Francie yelled as she slammed out the door. Will didn't even say goodbye, just stared into the distance.

"Will, what are you thinking?" He didn't answer for a minute, then asked, "What is it like, really, flying all over the world in private planes or cargo planes, knowing you'll be going on missions when you land?"

"It's not glamorous, if that's what you're thinking."

"No, I've been in one of those planes on the way home from Taipei. Remember? Me missing several teeth? You, shot by your own mother? Your father patching the both of us up, blood all over. Not glamorous." He shook his head and then looked at her penetratingly as he said, "But, I'm thinking of your dad in a plane with Sark. If that's not enough to give a person nightmares." He shuddered, "What do you think about? Do you sleep?"

Syd stared into her coffee for a long moment. "It's like.sometimes I sleep. And wake up in some dark plane. I look out the window and it's dark out there too. No lights or just the lights of some city below. Who knows what city? Is it my destination or just some flyover? If it's just some flyover, when will I get to where I am going? I have to look at my watch all the time so I know where I am. You know what's worse? When I wake up, for the merest moment, a split second, I don't know WHAT I am. I ask myself, 'Am I here with the good guys or the bad guys?' Even when my father is sitting next to me, I don't know. But when he's not sitting next to me, and I wake up and don't know if I'm wearing the black hat or the white hat or both on this mission, I am panicked. I want to scream, like a kid waking up from a nightmare. I don't know where I am or who I am supposed to be."

"And your dad? How does he handle it? Or don't you know?"

Syd smiled wryly, "Oh, that's simple. He never sleeps on those flights."

Chapter 10: "Never interrupt your enemy when he's making a mistake." (Napoleon Bonaparte)

As the SD6 jet left the airfield, Jack reviewed his notes for the short mission in Paris ahead. He smiled as his gaze left his official notes, a mirthless smile, that should have alerted anyone with more than a passing knowledge of Jack Bristow.

Hours later, Sark walked up the aisle of the plane and paused near Jack's seat. He asked, "Do you have any idea where we are?"

Jack looked out the window. "Over Knoxville, Tennessee, I believe."

"You can be that specific in the middle of the night? How do you know what exact godforsaken burg in nowheresville, USA--?" Sark asked incredulously.

"Because that's what Knoxville, Tennessee looks like from the air," Jack said with his usual dry tone, pointing his thumb toward the window.

"Do you know what every city looks like from the air?"

"Of course. I memorized that information a long time ago. That's how I know where I am at all times, even from the air. Is this fascinating geographic discussion concluded, Mr. Sark?" he concluded without looking up.

"So, Jack---"

"I don't believe I've given you permission to call me by my first name. Nor am I planning to do so at any time in the foreseeable future." Jack did not deign to look over at Sark, as the younger man slid into the seat next to him.

"Why the hostility, Mr. Bristow?"

"Do you feel hostility, Mr. Sark? That would imply that I consider you a matter of concern, would it not? And nothing could be further from the truth."

"Is that so? I will have to disagree, respectfully of course, with you. I do sense hostility. Of course, there are numerous reasons for hostility toward me."

"Are there?" Really, Sark was just too obvious in his fishing expeditions. Did he honestly think he was going to hook one of Jack Bristow's vulnerabilities with this line of questioning? It was almost amusing. What would be first? He sat back and waited. Looked over at Sark and smiled.

"Are you jealous of my relationship with Arvin Sloane?"

"No more so than any other little informant we bring in from time to time, use and then lose, Mr. Sark." Jealous of Sloane? Hmm. What did that mean? He needed to file that information away for later dissection.

What would be his next line of attack, Jack wondered? "Or is it the amount of 'quality time' I've spent with your lovely former wife?" Jack stopped himself from laughing aloud and merely raised an eyebrow. "She is amazing, though, and so passionate, isn't she, Mr. Bristow? Do you remember when she was Mrs. Bristow and warming YOUR bed?" "Vaguely," Jack answered, yawning.

"We could pass the time on the flight comparing notes on what she was like in bed." "We could, but I am sure I'd fall asleep fairly quickly." Okay, Irina was number two. What else was on his list?

"Well, then there's the matter of your little 'friend,'" Sark sniped with an emphasis on the word friend. When Jack made no comment, again just raised an eyebrow quizzically, Sark continued, "Yes, your Mr. Tippin. You remember him - tall, blond, nicely-built fellow with beautiful blue eyes?"

"I know Mr. Tippin, what of him?"

"Such a shame my dentist disfigured that lovely, talented mouth of his, wasn't it?" Years of self-discipline paid off, Jack thought, as he restrained himself from punching Sark in the mouth and performing some dental work of his own. "I don't understand your point, Mr. Sark."

"Didn't your Mr. Tippin tell you? Perhaps not. Clearly he wasn't your Mr. Tippin yet at the time I met him. His - inexperience - showed. I'm glad I could do you the favor and help break him in for you. Although, I did you another favor and didn't take his cherry. Aren't you glad? I can see you might be the type of man who would want to be the first. Mr. Tippin therefore may not have told you about our relatively innocuous little - interlude -- shall we say? Perhaps, all evidence to the contrary, he may know when to keep his mouth shut. Although you couldn't prove it by my experience with him."

Ye gods, no wonder Will felt sick at the thought of what had transpired with Sark. Jack was starting to feel nauseous himself at the thought of this piece of filth and his disgusting mouth anywhere near someone as innocent as Will had been.

"No comment, Mr. Bristow?"

What did Sark think might be the truth and what was the best way to deflect him? If Sark got even a hint that his suppositions might be correct.. "Just one question - why do you keep referring to him as 'my' Mr. Tippin?"

"Well, there is the little matter that the whole time I was, shall we say, alleviating some of his stress, he kept moaning your name. And he wasn't calling you, 'Mr. Bristow.' Then there is the way he fell into your arms when the transfer was complete. That would seem to imply a closer relationship than I would have expected a friend of Syd's to have with her father. And you have been spending time with him, according to Arvin."

"Your reasoning is unsound, Mr. Sark. First of all, Mr. Tippin has always called me Jack. He's informal. Secondly, I daresay that Mr. Tippin was calling my name, if he was calling my name, because he was hoping that I would rescue him. Thirdly, please don't insult my intelligence by trying to make more of any sexual episode you inflicted upon him as yet another way of psychological torture and intimidation. We both know better than to think a man's response in that situation is anything like his normal inclinations. And I would not say he fell into my arms in that alley, but rather that he fell on me because he could no longer walk. Finally, I do spend time with him, with my daughter and her friends. They are my friends, as well. So, Tippin was number three on your little list. Surely, you have something more worthy of my supposed hostility than Sloane, Derevko or Tippin?"

"Well, there is the little matter of your ever-so-lovely daughter, Sydney, isn't there?" "Is there?"

"Yes. I can't say I've had the intimate pleasure of knowing her the way I know your Mr. Tippin, but I've come close," Sark said with a sneer. Or was that a leer? Either way, his face was going to be rearranged. Quite soon.

"I find it hard to believe that Sydney would let you anywhere near her unless she was unconscious, Mr. Sark. You're just not her type." "What type is that?" "Vaguely human." Ah, a hit judging by the way Sark's jaw clenched. How would he retaliate?

"Sydney looked very human there when my men were scrubbing her naked body of the hazardous chemicals in Estonia. Very.beautiful. So enticing that I could not help but relieving some of my own stresses while watching her being scrubbed."

He wanted to gag, to retch. Instead he leveled his coldest stare on this piece of scum. "Are you trying to shock me, Mr. Sark? The fact that you jerked yourself off while watching my daughter being cleaned of chemicals is not shocking, merely pathetic. Now, are you done trying to assess this so-called hostility you are intent upon finding? I have a mission to review, even if you prefer to fly by the seat of your pants. And some professional advice, Mr. Sark? If you wish to remain in our line of work, you really need to spend more time with your cock in your pants and start using the head above the neck to plan strategies." Jack looked down at his notes, while surreptitiously observing the flush of anger that suffused Sark's face. The younger man vaulted out of the seat and across the plane.

Modifications needed to be made to the plan, Jack thought. Serious modifications. When they stopped in New York to change planes so that they could arrive separately, he left Sark behind quickly in the hangar. Once out of sight and range of any of the equipment Sark thought he had so carefully hidden on the plane to bug Jack, he retrieved his phone, his scrambler and dialed his Parisian contact. "I need to add someone to the crew - someone good with a knife."

Chapter 11: "To see what is in front of one's nose requires a constant struggle." (George Orwell)

Several days later, Syd dialed Will and asked to meet him for dinner while Francie was at the restaurant. Over take-out Chinese, Will watched her curiously. Syd seemed both anxious and exhilarated. Finally, he said, "What is it, already? You look like you're going to explode."

"It's about Sark." "What about him? Is that son of a bitch still in town?"

"No, actually he's in an SD6 hospital in France."

"What happened? Did someone run him over or shoot him and put the rest of us out of our misery?" "He and my father were on a mission in Paris. Afterwards, Sark was alone and he was attacked by some thugs on the street. Just a random act of violence in a big city." Will stared at her. "Let me get this straight - he's a super terrorist and he gets attacked by some street thugs? The irony of it is.fabulous."

"Yeah. And he really was beaten badly." "How badly?" Will asked with relish.

"You're more happy about this than I am, aren't you? Let's see, both knees were broken, his upper left arm, his lower right arm, his right hand was stomped on - I forget how many bones were broken there." "Christ. Why did they attack him, anyway?"

"They wanted money, apparently. And then when he wised off to the original mugger, the rest came out of an alley. They came from behind, really professional I guess, and got his gun before he had a chance to fire. There were four of them, plus some other guy who didn't participate until the end."

"The end?" "At the end, this guy came out with a knife and cut him." "Where?"

"Well, that's the odd thing. Apparently Sark thought he was going to just be gutted and killed, but the knifer came over and methodically cut his lips and around his mouth in numerous places. He's going to have major scars. Must be some kind of a gang ritual or something."

Will sat there, for once in his life, utterly speechless. For he knew what those scars meant. Payback, Jack Bristow style.

"So, it's going to take him forever to recover and then he'll have to have plastic surgery. And the great thing is that this takes him out of the game, for all intents and purposes."

"That's a good thing, right?" Will finally managed to ask. Syd smiled. "The best news I've had in a very long while. Let me tell you, if we could ID those muggers -"

"I suppose there's no chance of that, is there?" "What? Nah, no one's even going to look into it, it was so clearly just a random act. But, like I was saying, if we could ID those guys, I'd be happy to buy them each a bottle of wine to thank them."

"A little bloodthirsty, Syd?" "You don't know, Will, what it's been like, what it's like seeing that smarmy face across the table every day. Every day I had to fight the urge to just smash his nose right up into his brain, like I was taught in one of my martial arts classes on killing someone quickly. Between what he did to you - that dental torture -" Will started breathing again. He didn't believe Jack would tell anyone what he had confessed to him, but.Syd was still speaking, "-and what he did to me, well, let's just say."

"If you don't mind my asking, what did he do to you?" Will asked.

Syd thought for a moment, clearly wondering just how much to tell Will. "Sorry, Syd, you don't have to tell me the specifics or anything for that matter. Having spent time with Sark, I know the kind of animal he is."

"Suffice to say he put me in an untenable position where I had to make the worst choice of my life, the kind of choice that changes your life. And then, I found it was only a ploy, a game. He likes the games, he likes to play with people's minds."

"Yeah." "And then on top of it all, when he captured me in Estonia, I had to be scrubbed down in a decon unit-" "Decon?" "Decontamination unit. He had me sprayed with hazardous chemicals to get me to acquiesce to his demands and so I then had to be scrubbed down. That would have been bad enough, but then he stood there the whole time, watching me, with this look on his face.. I have never felt so dirty in my whole life."

"Yeah, I know the feeling."

"You know the feeling?"

"I mean, I can imagine, having that piece of human trash seeing you naked. Well, he got what was due him, I guess."

"Absolutely. And the best part of it is that his usefulness to Sloane may be over. Sloane asked my dad to stay behind in Paris and quote unquote debrief Sark at the SD6 hospital. That way he's under our control and my dad could do his work and get all the possible intel out of the bastard."

"What do you mean, his work?"

"Don't ask, you don't want to know how my dad gets his information, Will." "You're probably right. So," Will said, trying to strike the right casual note, "when will your dad be back?"

"Oh, given my dad's history of debriefing, it shouldn't take too much longer. He may even be done by now - he's been with Sark for several days."

"What a job. Is there any more moogoo gaipan?"

"Honestly, Will, do you ever think about anything but your stomach?" Syd laughed.

Chapter 12: "The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources." (Albert Einstein)

Meanwhile, somewhere over the Atlantic, the first class flight attendant asked Jack, "Would you like a cocktail, sir?" "Do you have Moet?" "Why yes, certainly." As she poured the sparkling wine into a flute she asked, "Champagne for a special occasion?"

"Yes, I have just set up a major business deal, possibly the deal of a lifetime."

"My congratulations, sir."

"Thank you," Jack said with a small smile. "To Emily," he whispered silently, as he looked out the window, never noticing the admiring glances she threw his way during the flight.

Chapter 13: In vino veritas? Maybe not.

"Honestly, Will Tippin, what are you doing in a liquor store?" Francie demanded from the end of the aisle. He jumped a mile. Clearly, he was not spy material, he thought to himself.

"What's that little smile for, anyway?" Francie demanded. "It's no laughing matter. You have a drinking problem and here you are." she said as she hurried over to him.

"Francie, keep it down, for crying out loud. First of all, I don't have a drinking problem. I learned my lesson about drinking to escape my problems. I had a problem, which I solved. As you and Syd wanted, I can pretty much guarantee that with Jack's little 'intervention' I won't be having the problem any more."

"Oh, really? So, Jack helped solve your problem?" Francie asked archly, albeit in a whisper. "Stop it, just stop it." Will whispered back. "And help me pick out a nice bottle of red wine. Or would you recommend a chardonnay?" "For Jack? He likes merlot, actually. Pay attention to the details, Will."

Later that evening."So, Syd, I met Will today at the liquor store." "Oh? Oh! Do you think that's okay?"

"He was real vehement about it being okay. I guess he convinced me. And anyway, the vintage of wine he was buying was way too expensive to use just as a way to get drunk. Will is nothing else if not cheap. If he just wanted to get drunk, believe me, there are quicker and cheaper ways than that vintage. I don't even stock it at my restaurant."

"You're right, he is SO cheap. Wow, he's never bought us an expensive bottle of wine before. I wonder why now?"

"Syd, I don't think it was for us."

"No? Oh, does he have a hot date? That would be good, wouldn't it? I mean, when's the last time he had a date?" Syd was smiling happily. Will needed to get his life back on track and it looked like maybe that was happening.

Francie muttered, "Oh, I think he's had plenty of them in the last few months. Or at least a version of dates, anyway."

"What? He's had dates? Why didn't I know about them? Why didn't he tell me? Don't tell me that he thought I'd feel bad that he finally got over the ridiculous notion that he had romantic feelings for me? I'm thrilled, really thrilled for him. I should tell him." Francie choked and Syd glanced at her and continued, "I just hope whoever he's been dating is really nice." Francie choked again. "Are you okay, Francie? Yeah, I hope she's nice, but doesn't take any crap, and well, kind of takes care of him. Don't you think someone needs to keep Will in line, but also take care of him?"

Francie stared in amazement at Syd. For all her obliviousness about other people, occasionally she hit the nail right on the head. "You are so right, Syd. I never thought about it that way. But somebody does need to take care of that guy. He can't do it himself. Although, lately, he's a lot more grounded, don't you think? But you're right, he'll probably always need someone to help KEEP him grounded. And in turn, the person would get from Will--"

"Someone sweet, honest and caring, generous with his feelings. I hope this person is the right one. Will could use a break." Francie stared at her for a moment and then shook her head to clear it.

"Okay, that's what Will needs. How about you, Syd?"

"Oh, I don't know. Someone who can handle my job-"

"That stinking job, again! How about if you meet the right person you'd be willing to just chuck that job?"

"Not again, Francie. How about you?"

"I don't know, someone honest, I guess after Charlie. Totally trustworthy," Francie said firmly. "That would be a nonnegotiable point."

Syd stared off. After a while, Francie asked, "What are you thinking?" Syd was thinking about her parents, but of course she couldn't really say that. As far as Francie knew, Laura Bristow had been Mrs. Perfect Wife and Mother. "My dad. What he needs. I guess someone totally trustworthy too, I mean when you work in that cutthroat environment he does, trust is important. Patient, persistent - you'd have to be persistent to cut through that shell he wears. And someone who can make him laugh, get him to loosen up. I wish you had known my dad before we lost my mother. He was such a different person."

"Actually, Syd, your dad has been a lot different recently, don't you think?"

"Yeah, he's been a lot more relaxed lately. He seems.happy, almost. That's why I was remembering how he used to be. But back to Will. So, who's the wine for, do you know?"

"Um, actually, the wine is for your father." Would Syd pick up on the hint? Probably not.

"My father? Oh, to welcome him back to town? Dad is always going out of town. What's the big deal with that with Will anyway? And still, to spend that much money on wine when Will wouldn't even appreciate the vintage." She stopped suddenly. Francie watched Syd's face get what she referred to as the "lightbulb" effect. Finally.."Oh, my God. My father.." Her father had set up Sark. And Will knew? How, why?

"Honey, you're not too upset are you?" Huh, what? What was Francie talking about? Why would Francie think that Syd would care if Will bought her father a whole case of wine, Francie didn't know what the wine meant.

"Why would I be upset?" Syd countered, as her mind reeled with the implications. Why, suddenly, had her father decided to gut Sark? What could have happened and what did Will know that allowed him, but not her, to make the connection between the seemingly-random act of violence and her father? "Do I even want to know?" she muttered.

"Okay, you don't have to know now, but sooner or later." Francie said warningly.

"Well, whatever. So, what do you want to do tonight - we actually both have the night free! Girls' night out!" Syd smiled, glad she had distracted Francie.

Francie shook her head. Boy, could Syd be obtuse when she wanted.

Chapter 14: "A good friend who points out mistakes and imperfections and rebukes evil is to be respected as if he reveals a secret of hidden treasure." (Buddha)

The next day, Syd cornered Will in the kitchen of Francie's restaurant. "I need to talk to you. Now."

"Sure, just a minute. I'm helping--"

"No, now."

"Alright, already." Syd hauled Will into the alley and pulled out some piece of electronica. Will reached for it, but Syd slapped his hand away. "Stop it. You don't need to play with it. So, how did you know that my dad had Sark attacked, what or who told you that?"

Will stared at her in surprise. "Oh, I guess Francie told you about the wine."

"Yeah. I want answers. Now." Will started to laugh, "You remind me so much of Jack when you said that. That was good, Syd."

"I mean it, Will Tippin."

Will continued laughing. "Actually, Syd, I planned on giving him that bottle from the two of us, so don't get your knickers into a twist. You owe me $50."

"I still want to know how you figured it out."

Will sobered. "That's between your father and me, it's.personal." "Personal?" "You know, personal - that type of relationship you try to avoid having with Jack?" Sydney reared back. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, do you have no clue whatsoever about who your father is? What. Never mind. Why do YOU think he would have Sark taken care of? You're the super spy, aren't you? Figure it out." He started to walk away and stopped.

Will turned around and walk back in front of Sydney. "Let me ask you this, what do you think about what he did?"

Syd crossed her arms, as she stated emphatically, "He shouldn't have done it. It was wrong."

"Why was it great when you thought it was just random violence, but now that you know the truth it's something horrible?"

"Because he shouldn't have done it. And then .what making those kind of choices does to you, Will."

"How about what taking no action when the people you care about are hurt? What does that do to you? What or rather who is more important here, your father or that piece of scum, Sark?" She said nothing and Will felt his anger rise.

"You know, Syd, originally I bought this bottle for the two of us to give him. I was going to suggest that both of us bring it out to his house and surprise him. But you know what? I wonder if you even know where he lives."

"Of course I do!" Syd protested.

"Do you? When's the last time you went there? Why is your dad always tracking you down?" She refolded her arms. "Will, my relationship with my dad is..complicated." "Duh. No kidding. But you know what - it's complicated by the fact largely that. You. Need. To. Grow. Up."

"Who do you think you are?" Syd began.

Will cut her off. "I am your friend, Jack's friend. I see what you apparently don't. Do you have any idea, any idea at all, how it would make your dad feel to know that you think it's great that random Parisian thugs carved up Sark, but that you are incensed that he had it done? Do you have any idea how it makes you dad feel that you are ready to forgive your mother, you seem to find it so easy to hug her, forgive her, but your dad - he has to work for every little thing, doesn't he? No, he hasn't been perfect, he needs to work at his emotions. But sometimes, sometimes, I just cringe at how you rebuff his attempts, how you can't even meet him halfway, like his attempts are...," he looked around, "like the garbage in this dumpster. While your mom-what, her shit don't smell?"

Syd interrupted, "Leave my mother out of this!"

"No, I can't. Have you forgotten she abandoned you?"

"No, but she may not have had much choice."

"We all have choices, some better than others, no doubt. She could have come clean with your father at any time - she had ten years to do so. TEN YEARS, Syd. She could have cut a deal. She cut a deal now with lots more blood on her hands, so twenty years ago? Yeah, she could have done it. Your dad would have figured something out. And don't tell me that your father wouldn't have done it for her, for you all. When Jack loves someone, he does so deeply, irrevocably, doesn't he?"

"But he made choices, too, Will, after she left."

"And those choices, those mistakes are somehow worse than what your mother did? Give me a fucking break. Your mother used Jack for ten years. I still can't get over that. Even if she did have some feelings for him, what kind of feelings are those that allow you to deceive someone in the most intimate of ways.ten years. At the time your dad was what, about thirty? She used him for a third of his life, Syd. He was about our age. Imagine if you will," he said in his best Rod Sterling voice, "That you've been married for years to - oh, I don't know - Vaughn? You have a kid together, you see your whole life in front of you and then suddenly one day, you find out he's KGB and he's gone, leaving you holding the bag."

"That's ridiculous! Vaughn would never." She trailed off, caught.

"Right. And isn't that what your dad probably said when he first was told that Laura Bristow was really Irina Derevko? Topic? You're mad because you think he abandoned you too? And somehow that's worse than your mom's abandonment. Ask yourself why that is." Will waited, but Syd said nothing.

"And another thing, while we are on the subject. Did you ever ask why he became emotionally unavailable? Have you ever had that conversation?"

"Once, we kind of did. He denied it, but I think it was because he saw my mother in me."

"If he sees your mother in you, it's the Laura Bristow he knew and loved, not the Irina Derevko, international crime leader. Wasn't that after the Madagascar bombing? Didn't he tell a panel of senators how much he loved you?"

"How do you know that?" Syd asked.

"I asked him a question about that incident and he told me how he said that and the next time he saw you, he was hoping.but nothing. But back-"

"You asked him a question? And he answered?"

"Sure. I ask obnoxious questions and just keep asking them, remember? Just ask Jack and sometimes, not always, you can get a really interesting answer, Syd. You have to be persistent with Jack, Syd. Just ask him and keeping asking him. Ask him about what happened after your mom left. Think about it. He is fooled, humiliatingly so, by his so-called wife for ten years. Fooled him, one of the best agents in the business. Destroyed him as a man, as a professional. Who is he, what is he? What's left? And then he gets punished, he gets suspected, and gets thrown in solitary for all those months? What does that do to you? Did you ever think about that Syd?"

"No, I.I wonder, though, what do you think about for that whole time?"

"Oh, I don't know, the fact that if you are found guilty, you get the death penalty? Have you ever asked him about that?"

"No," she said quietly.

"Do you know he is rereading a bunch of the books they gave him in prison right now? Trying to relearn something, I'm not sure what? You're the book person, do you know what he's doing?" "No."

"Of course not. The world revolves around you, doesn't it? You're too busy bonding with your mother," Will spat out in derision. "Did you forget that she killed people, not in a nice way either from what I understand from Vaughn. Did you forget she killed Vaughn's father? What is wrong with you? You're 28 years old and you still act like your father should have been and still should be some kind of goddamned comic book superhero, without flaws, without mistakes, always able to save the day in some kind of clean, no-one-gets-hurt way. Grow. Up." Turning on his heel, Will walked away.

"So, did you have a fight with Will or something?" Francie asked later a few days later. "Will was acting like he was ticked at you."

"It was weird. Really odd." Syd said slowly.

Francie asked carefully, "In what way?"

"Will, well, he seems to know more about how my dad operates, how he thinks than I do."

"Well, is that such a surprise?" "Yes!"

"Why should it be? Will spends a lot more time with Jack than you do, doesn't he? And give Will the credit that he is good at getting people to open up. If nothing else, he's really good at asking questions."

"I suppose. Maybe." Syd trailed off.

"Maybe what?" Francie asked. Maybe Syd finally had a clue?

"Maybe I should spend more time with my dad?"

"That's a good idea if you truly want to know him better and not because you're just jealous of Will's relationship with him."

"You're the second person to accuse me of acting like a child where my dad is concerned."

"Well, I'm the first person to say that your dad wasn't the best growing up, but he does seem to be trying really hard now and maybe you should let him in, do more things with him." "Like what?"

"How about we get two more tickets to the Hollywood Bowl and the four of us can go to a concert together one of these days? I'll look at the schedule and find something we all can like."

"Oh, you mean, me, you, dad and Will?"

"Of course. You know your dad and Will are always hanging out, they really are best friends." Okay, that was a really big hint, Syd. You gonna catch it? No, of course not, Syd really needed to look outside herself a little more. Big internal sigh from Francie.

Chapter 15: "The art of love.is largely the art of persistence." (Albert Ellis)

"So, this is the new apartment?" Jack asked as he walked in two weeks later, two of the longest weeks of Will's life. Although Will had talked with Jack on the phone, always at the former's instigation, he'd only seen Jack once since he'd returned from Paris and that had been by accident at the girls' house. Then he had cornered Jack as he left and asked when they were going to talk. At the time, he'd thought Jack seemed both preoccupied and, almost, nervous. When he had later told Syd about the preoccupation, she had agreed and told him that something was going on, she could almost see the wheels spinning in Jack's head at SD6, particularly when he was in a meeting with Sloane. She guessed he must have found out something useful from Sark's debriefing, but as usual, her father was playing his cards close to his chest. Jack Bristow, she reminded him, was very fond of the idea of telling people information on a need to know basis only.

Will had a different approach and wasted no time in telling Francie that he thought Jack was nervous. "Well, of course he is, you idiot," Francie had said. "Why?" "Why? First off, it's obvious that his wife's death totally screwed him up emotionally. From what Syd's said, he pretty much closed down after that. And you are asking him to open up. Which is a good thing. But then there's the whole little factor of, oh I don't know," she said sarcastically, "That you are both men? Jack's gonna have to wrap his mind around that. It's going to take a little time." "But I don't think it's a good idea to back off," Will countered. Francie agreed, "No, me either. He'll just close himself off again." "What should I do?" he asked. Francie stared at him for a moment, tapped her fingers on her chin and finally said, "Just be yourself, Will. He obviously responds to that. Just be yourself." And so he had persisted.

"Yeah, the apartment's not much, but it's mine for now. No more living with the girls. No more chick flicks on video night just because I am grateful to have a place to live. Hopefully if the job goes well, I'll trade up to something better in a few months. But right now I want to save my money." Oh, brother, he was babbling. Jack had gone over to the kitchen light fixture and was testing the bugkiller Syd had installed to make sure it was functional.

"Really?" Jack asked sarcastically looking at the counter, "Then why this vintage of wine here? That costs an arm and a leg." Looking at his back, Will realized that Jack seemed anxious.

"That's from Syd and me." Will took a deep breath as he walked into the kitchen as well. "Syd told me about what happened to Sark when he was in Paris. She said, at the time, that if she knew who those muggers were that had done him in, she'd buy them a great bottle of wine."

Jack whirled and faced Will. "You know?"

"Of course. That whole incident had your fingerprints all over it. And then when she told me about how Sark's mouth was cut up and will have major scars on it-"

Jack interrupted, "Well, that was a last minute modification to the plan after having to spend hours with that piece of filth in the plane on the way to Paris."

"I see. He didn't know how to keep his mouth shut?" he asked Jack looking him in the eyes. "No," Jack said quietly.

"So, that which caused the problem is that which will pay? Poetic, in a scary kind of way. I may be just a desk jockey at the CIA, but when I heard about the knifing 'ritual', I know how to put two and two together."

"Syd knows?"

"Francie saw me buying the wine, actually she picked it out, and told her. Syd also can add. She doesn't know why I could figure it out or that there's anything meaningful about the knife. That's my personal business, not hers."

Jack asked cautiously, his body tense, "What do you think about what I did?"

"Well, I figured out that taking care of Sark was one of those things you mentioned having to do before you and I continued our.discussion." He paused and arched an eyebrow of his own in Jack's direction.

"Very good, Tippin."

"Knowing you, Jack, I figured that there was no way we could have that discussion, from your point of view, while the guy who caused me those.problems.was wallowing around like a pig in shit, enjoying all the intel and power at SD6. I also figure that getting him out of the way and thereby getting an opportunity to interrogate him didn't hurt your ultimate game plan." Jack sat down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs.

"Surprised you, didn't I?" Will said happily, leaning against the counter. "I think I'm getting pretty good at the analysis stuff."

"Either that or you have just been spending way too much time with the Bristows," Jack said stiffly.

"Oh, loosen up, Jack. I've got no problems with what you did. In a perfect world, violence would not be necessary. In a perfect world, people like Sark and Sloane would not even exist. In a perfect world, you would not feel the need to protect the people you care about. But that's not where we live, is it? So, do you want a drink of that wine?"

"No, not tonight. Let's save it." Will smiled slowly. 'Save it' - that meant that Jack was assuming there would be other occasions to drink that wine.

"Okay, so what else is on your mind? Make a list for me, I'm sure you've got one in your head," Will said with a smile.

Jack stared and then said slowly, "So, we're having THAT conversation? Right now."

"Yes. But, actually, I thought it would be easier to make a list. You like lists, I know." "You made a list?" Jack asked in disbelief. "Sure," he said, pulling a paper out of his back pocket and handing it to Jack. "You wrote it down?" "Of course I did," Will shrugged.

"That's right, you're a writer, of course you'd write it down," Jack said absently as he began scanning the list. Will plunked himself down in the chair next to Jack so that he could watch his face as he read. Now HE felt nervous. He alternated running his hands through his hair and tapping his fingers on the table, then began jiggling his legs nervously.

Jack kept shooting him looks of exasperation and finally exploded, "Stop it already! You're making me nuts."

"Say something already! You're making ME nuts." They both stopped glaring as they realized how ridiculous they were being and began to laugh.

"You know, Will," Jack began, shaking his head. "You have all those reasons listed that you think would be my objections to having a relationship with you, but you didn't make a list of the reasons in favor."

"Oh, I thought they were."

"Obvious? What an ego," Jack laughed as Will pulled a face. The younger man asked, "Well, if we were to make that list, what would it include?"

Jack responded, "Honestly, at the top would be the way you make me laugh. I've laughed more with you than I have in the last twenty years, at least here in LA."

Will smiled, but then said with care, "Don't you think it's a little broader than that?"

"What do you mean?"

Feeling nervous himself, but pressing on nonetheless, Will asked, "Don't you think .don't you feel like we make each other happy? And don't you think that's the important thing, the most important thing?" Jack pulled back slightly, obviously taken off guard. Will pushed ahead, "Remember so long ago, was it five months ago? When we had that conversation about Syd and Vaughn and I asked you if it mattered if they were happy? And you kind of dismissed it?"

"Yes, I remember that."

"Do you think you dismissed happiness because it had been so long since you'd felt that way that you'd forgotten how important it is?" And then waited. But not for long, Jack stood up and pushed away from the table and began pacing. Well, that was predictable. Will remained in his chair. If he got up now, Jack would just get more defensive.

"I asked you a question and I'd like an answer," Will said firmly. Jack stopped pacing and raised an eyebrow in surprise at Will's demand. "I asked you several questions last time we were at your house, verbally or.. otherwise. That list is really a series of questions. So, now I'd appreciate some responses." He watched Jack's eyes narrow.

"Will, I feel it would be more productive and in our best interests-" Will cut him off, "Jack, don't try to evade the issues by resorting to that verbal formality you love to use to intimidate people."

Jack clenched his lips together tightly and then to Will's surprise, he smiled ruefully, "Well, there's another intimidation tactic blown to hell with you."

Will smiled back, but his next words carried a bit of a sting. "Does the fact that I can see into you, at least sometimes, at least partially, fall into the positive or the negative category on your own list, Jack?" Jack looked away and his mouth opened, but before he could respond Will continued, "You realize that the same is true for you, that you know me better than almost anyone I could imagine? You realize that is because we have been.lucky enough to have a connection with each other?"

Jack looked back with a shocked visage, "You think you are lucky to have a connection with me?"

"Are you kidding? I'm not stupid. When you feel like this, when the other person feels the same, yeah, that's what I call lucky."

"You're sure I feel the same, aren't you? How-" he trailed off.

"Before you get worried that that poker face of yours gave something away, don't. It was just instinct, or maybe even just hope, until I kissed you that night. Just a feeling I had, nothing substantial, nothing I could make a list about," he laughed quietly, thinking he would avoid telling him about Francie's instincts. "But then when you responded." Will watched in amusement as Jack looked away, with a slight tinge of red on his cheekbones.

"And I think you're wondering if that kiss was a fluke." Will teased, "Some bizarre anomaly in your otherwise happily heterosexual life?"

First shock fell across Jack's face as he looked back at Will, "How did you know-", then his lips quirked upward, "Happily heterosexual?"

"Hey," Will said as he stood up, "It got you to smile when I know you'd rather die of embarrassment." Jack stared at him. "And let me ask you this - in terms of last time being a fluke? Have you thought about it since then?" Jack just continued looking at him, still in shock, Will thought. He continued talking as he walked closer, "I know I have." Watching closely, he saw Jack swallow hard. One part of his brain was astonished that Jack had given that much away; Syd had told him that her father was a master at hiding any sign of emotion when necessary. He thought, fleetingly, that it was a good sign that Jack didn't feel it was necessary now. Using that idea to bolster his courage, he stepped in front of Jack. Raising his hand to Jack's jaw, he said quietly, "Let's see if it was an anamoly." Will smiled as he leaned toward Jack, giving him time to retreat if he wanted. His careful approach was abandoned moments later as their lips met. The initial, tentative exploration quickly escalated into something much more carnal as Jack took control, using his lips and tongue to reduce Will's brain to mush. When he moved his head, Will thought it was just to reangle their mouths, but when Jack took the opportunity to nip and then suck at Will's lower lip, he had to grab Jack's arms. More cautiously, Jack clasped Will's arms as well and then resumed feasting on Will's mouth. Much later, Jack pulled back and looked at Will as both caught their breath, as they dropped their hands.

Will spoke, "I'm thinking, that the kiss last time was no fluke, Jack, how about you?"

"You can actually think right now?" Jack quipped and then clamped his lips together as if he'd said too much.

"Barely, to tell you the truth. I have to tell you, I never expected that you would be so."

"What?" Jack asked. "Now it's my turn to be incoherent. Your mouth, Jack, I've never been kissed like that in my life. It was like sex." To his surprise, Will saw a touch of red again wash Jack's face. "Have trouble with compliments? Hmm, well, there is a way to keep me from talking, you know."

"I'll take that under advisement, Tippin," Jack said with a small smile, but then sobered as he continued, "I need some time, though, before we go much further." "Oh, you mean, like second or third base?" "Tippin." "Okay, seriously, what do you want the time for, just so we can be clear on this?"

"You know what I do, what I am. Apparently you're willing to take risks. But first of all I need to think about how to minimize your safety risks. I have to do that, Will. I can't live with myself otherwise."

"I understand, Jack. That's part of who you are." Jack nodded slowly. Will went on, "I just want to make clear that I never expected that our public behavior would change. And I have every confidence that you can control what anyone could find out about your, our, private life. If there is anything you need me to do to help with that, ask. Don't feel you need to do everything on your own. I would hope that if we are involved that it would not be one more problem for you, but rather that I would be someone to share your problems with." Jack opened his mouth, but Will spoke quickly. "I know, I know, you can't tell me what's going on, blah, blah, blah, for my own good. But, when it comes to private matters, private safety, I expect you to include me. In fact, I want you to promise me that you will tell me what's going on and use me as a sounding board, a partner, whatever, if it would help. Promise?"

"Moving along-"

Will interrupted him, "No, you don't. Don't try that distraction so you don't have to promise. I know if you look me in the eye and promise you'll feel honor bound to keep it. So I want to hear you say it."

Jack shook his head wonderingly, "You know me too well. Fine, I promise. It's not going to be easy for me though." Will nodded and asked, "Anything else?"

"It's all about the risks, I think. I've not been open with anyone in so long, I've thought it too risky and with my job, my life, it has been. But you-"

"It's my choice, Jack."

"I hope.And then, although I heard what you said about masculinity not being tied to heterosexuality, let me have some time to make sure my head is in the same place as my body. It wouldn't be fair to either of us." "Fine." "You don't sound worried." "After that kiss? No, I'm not worried. But - the list?"

"God, you want to talk more? Haven't we covered it all, already, in this form of torture you call having a conversation?" Jack groaned. Will pointed at the piece of paper still on the table. Jack snatched it up with a dirty look. "Let's see, you wrote down 'age difference'. To tell you the truth, I never even thought about it," Jack smiled then. "Maybe that's MY ego talking. And if by age, you meant maturity," he said teasingly as Will pretended to be offended, "I think you've demonstrated, especially in this conversation, as painful as I found it, that you may be more mature than I am when it comes to discussing these types of matters. What's next? Am I worried about you simply transferring your affections from one Bristow to another? I don't even want to go there, Tippin." He gave a mock shudder and then said, "I figured by what you said about and how you looked on the tape of that bar incident with Alice, that by then you had begun seeing Sydney again as more of a friend, than anything else."

"Good call."

"And everything else, we've covered. Are we done now? Can we stop being honest and talking about emotions before my head explodes from the stress?" Jack said with exasperated impatience.

Will laughed. "Yeah, we can stop. And Jack, thanks for having this talk, I know it was difficult for you."

Jack rolled his eyes, "As if you would not have just kept persisting until I gave in? I knew when to cut my losses."

"So, persistence is the key with you? I was hoping you would look upon it as cutting down on the time wasted before--"

"Whatever. Do you want to go out somewhere?"

"Sure, let me get the paper." "Before we go anywhere," Jack called out as Will went into the living room, "Comb your hair. It's a mess. Why you don't have enough self discipline to stop doing that." "Really, Bristow?" Will called back, "Like your self discipline when you get up and pace?" Silence from the other room. It's going to be fine, Will thought, as he dragged a comb through his hair.

Chapter 16: "There is no surprise more magical than the surprise of being loved; It is God's finger on man's shoulder." (Charles Morgan)

Several weeks later, the quartet loaded up Syd's SUV for their outing. Francie had gotten them all tickets to a special benefit performance of the LA Pops orchestra with a "Cavalcade of Stars" (Will had winced at the hokey pr). Performing artists from a variety of musical genres would be singing to benefit the LA Food Pantry, a charity dear to Francie's heart, as a foodie. She had also thought that the wide variety on stage that night would have a good chance of pleasing everyone, given that she had no clue what Jack Bristow's taste in music might be. When she said that on the drive over, Will moaned, "Oh, for the love of God, don't get him started on music already. If I have to hear one more time."

"Sorry, modern pop music - hip hop and rap - is just pure crap. There's no melody line and---"

"Shut up, Jack. I've heard it before, about a million times. You can go to the concessions if there's any of that 'crap'. Alright?"

"Boy, Will, eve since you and Jack got to our place, you've been testy! Didn't get enough sleep last night or what!" Francie accused.

"We'll have a conversation, later, Tippin," Jack warned. Sydney looked over at Francie and both giggled. They knew what that tone of voice meant. Will was in trouble, nah, nah, nah.

When they parked, Jack and Will unpacked the car. Jack shooed the women ahead. Syd and Francie giggled again as they left. "What was that about?" Will asked sullenly.

"Oh, they think I'm going to yell at you." "Are you?"

"Get back in the car for a minute," Jack said as he opened the door. Once seated, Jack pulled out his card case and set it on the seat.

"Okay, Will, you were really ---"

"A pain in the ass?"

"You said it. It's your own fault, you know," Jack said with a smirk.

"Ha, Ha. Very funny. I know. You're right. I should have never gone over to your house early to---"

"Come on to me? No, you shouldn't have. You're paying the price now, aren't you? You need---"

"Yeah, yeah. More self discipline. I should have enough smarts, forget self discipline, not to spend that long kissing you. God, your mouth...It's going to be my downfall," Will moaned.

"Will.," Jack said warningly.

"I know, I need to get control right now. But Jack, it's been long enough, don't you think? Aren't you ready?" Will asked.

Jack raised one eyebrow and said calmly, "Don't whine. If you think the first time we are together is going to be a quickie while I know Syd and Francie are waiting for us, you're out of your mind." Will sighed and looked away. "You're right." He paused and then relaxing, said, "So, not a quickie, huh?"

Meeting Jack's eyes, both men laughed. "Well." "Yeah, me too."

"Let's go, Tippin, or Francie will probably think we are doing it in the SUV. She keeps giving me these looks like she knows." He stopped at the look on Will's face. "I was right all along - you've had conversations with her about this, haven't you?" At Will's sheepish look, Jack gritted out, "I'm going to kill you both. How can I look her in the face? Oh, God, she probably does think we were making out in here." As the men climbed out, Will quipped, "Well, there is room. That car is so huge, you could hide several bodies in there." Jack started to speak and Will held up his hand. "Forget it. I don't want to know. Really."

"Are you having a good time, Dad?" Syd asked later. Jack smiled. "Sure, who's next?" "Vanessa Williams. You'll like her, she is a great technical singer."

"Didn't she sing that song when you and Francie were younger - the rhyming one with weather in June?"

Syd laughed, "Yeah, that's the one. Good memory. But I guess Francie and I played it a million times, didn't we?"

When Ms.Williams began to sing, Jack remembered the artist as well as the song. "Sometimes the snow comes down in June, sometimes the sun goes round the moon." He leaned over and whispered, "This sounds like a Rambaldi prediction to me," and Syd giggled. "Sometimes the passion in your eyes, All at once a big surprise..It's not the way I hoped, or how I planned, but somehow." and the audience was entranced by the spell the talented singer wove. He sat there reflecting that the song seemed to fit his life right now. This thing with Will, definitely not what he'd ever planned. It was so unlike what he had ever imagined, he could have believed that the sun would go around the moon or snow fall in June. And then he laughed at himself, this was bordering on maudlin, for crying out loud. He needed to make a visit to the target range or something.

With a grin, Will said, "Hey, Jack, the next artist is hip hop. Why don't you go and get us all drinks?"

"Sure. Happily. Gladly. No problem," Jack said as he got up. Walking away, automatically scanning the audience, he noted the press photographers. One seemed to be taking an ordinate amount of audience reaction shots, he mused. Suddenly, a hand grabbed his arm. Looking down he saw Francie, she was panting slightly in her attempts to catch him. He looked away quickly. He still couldn't believe she and Will had conversations about his relationship with another man. For the love of God, didn't anyone have any sense of privacy any more? And she was his daughter's best friend. Blech.

"Mr. Bristow, don't be embarrassed with me. I can tell you know Will and I talked about whether or not you could be in a relationship with another man." Jack actually gasped. He began muttering under his breath, but Francie ignored him and continued, "I told Will not to let you know that we had talked, because I knew you'd hate it."

"But it's okay to do it as long as I don't know?" he said, thinking that was quite hypocritical of him, but hey, she'd never know. Francie gave an anxious smile as she said, "Well, you got me. But really, it's okay. Friends talk about each other." Jack grimaced.

As they walked up to the drink kiosk, Jack said urgently, "Francie, first of all, it's imperative that you never talk about me with anyone outside us. My job, it's extremely cutthroat, very competitive. There can be no gossip about my personal life that filters back to work. My enemies would not attack me so much as Will - they'd find a way to hurt his career, probably, to get to me. Do you understand? Not even your parents?"

"Geez, Jack, are you sure you and Syd don't work at the same place? Job Hazards R Us? I wish you both would quit."

"Believe me, my goal is early retirement, the earlier the better." "Good." He handed her two drinks, carrying two himself and they began to return to their seats, Jack wincing at the noise that passed for music. Francie smiled at his expression and continued, "But I'm not done yet. I knew this relationship would be somewhat difficult, that you'd have to make an adjustment in your thinking, your view of yourself."

"Can we stop now?"

"But I also know you'll do the right thing."

"How do you know that?"

"I've known you for more than twenty years. Although I didn't know you well before and I will never understand why you and Syd were estranged for so long, I have watched you try to reestablish a relationship with her, even when she was being a real pip about it." Francie watched Jack's lips curve upward and relaxed slightly. Will was right, if you could amuse Jack."I know you may hem and haw and hide behind formality, but you'll do the right thing."

"And the right thing would be, what?"

"You know what it is. You can never go wrong following your heart."

If she only knew, Jack thought. Following his heart -- that's what he had done with Irina and look where that had led him. But then again, it did lead him to Sydney. Maybe Francie was right, a little bit, anyway.

"Even when it's the most inexplicable, surprising," Jack murmured to himself.

"Even then," Francie whispered.

"Francie, this is the last time, I hope we'll ever have this conversation, but do you know, has Syd said anything?"

"Nah, she's clueless. A little bit jealous of the time you spend with Will..."

"Ah, that's what the invitations lately have been about?"

"Well, that and I do think she does want to have a relationship with you. Do you not want her to know?"

"Not right now. I have enough to deal with on my own. Although, well, she'll have to know sooner or later. Maybe just let her figure it out on her own, when she's ready."

"I think that's a good idea."

"Let's head back. And really, I NEVER want to have a conversation like this again. I'd even rather talk about interior decoration," Jack ended with a small smile.

"Ooh, you mean it then!" Francie laughed, "Although I do love how the red you suggested for my restaurant turned out. Maybe that can be your new career when you quit your stupid job. Hey - maybe you and Syd could both quit and go into interior dec together!" she finished in a peel of laughter.

Chapter 17: "My good intentions are completely lethal." (Margaret Atwood)

Jack and Arvin were returning via limo from a meeting in downtown LA. A generally mind-numbing meeting about shipping plans, except for the fact that the cargo was millions of dollars in illegal drugs and underage prostitutes. It was difficult to eat one's rubber chicken and green beans when the lunch conversation was about how long the brothel managers could portray a girl as a "virgin" before she was worn out. Actually, he was spending most of the time concentrating on not vomiting and how to ensure that the ship was intercepted. And now, Arvin was babbling about what? Jack's mental health? Give me strength, he pleaded with a look upwards.

"I'm glad you seem to be relaxing, Jack, after all these years when you've been somewhat.uptight, I believe the correct word is. And I truly don't think there's anything.inappropriate between you and Mr. Tippin. After all, I've known you for more than thirty years. I think I know you well enough to know that type of relationship is more than unlikely. "

What in the world? Why was Arvin so focused on this relationship he saw between Will and himself? They had given nothing away, had done nothing inappropriate, so what bug did Arvin have in his brain? Ah yes, he was projecting. Hmmm. How to use that? "Inappropriate? We are both adults."

"You know what I mean, Jack. I told the risk management team that the likelihood of you becoming involved with another man was as likely as.snow in LA in June. I am saying this with the best of intentions, as I am sure you know."

Jack met Sloane's eyes, calmly. Coolly, he said, "I know all about your intentions, Arvin."

Chapter 18: "Creating a new theory is not like destroying an old barn and erecting a skyscraper. It's rather like climbing a mountain, gaining new and wider vistas, discovering unexpected connections between our starting point and [and our destination]." (Albert Einstein)

Jack opened his laptop. Waiting for his new email messages to load, he rested his elbows on his desk. This was taking forever, he thought as steepling his fingers, he looked around his study. What a mess, he noted absently when he saw the pile of books in the corner. Most of them loans from Will's own collection or books Will had given him. Jack had never been much of a reader, well, not of those types of books. Sure, he'd read lots of nonfiction for the information and the occasional Clancy or other spy thriller for laughs. But he'd had his fill of books when he was in solitary. In the beginning, they had given him only the Bible. The last thing he'd wanted to read was the Bible, stories about losing one's way and how to find it, trusting in God. Trust? Trust had gotten him here --- to a 10' by 10' cell, he'd thought at the time. He'd asked so often for something, anything else, that they'd finally given him the collected works of Shakespeare to start. Initially, he thought it was a great choice, because hey - comedy and tragedy, war and battles, family dynamics, love (well, he didn't read the love stories for a long time) - it was all there. He'd read them over and over, he had the time, after all. Then one day, the prison librarian (and there's a great job, he always thought sarcastically, your patrons have no choice but to read what you suggest), casually mentioned that the Bible and Shakespeare and most stories were, in fact, the same story, just told differently - human drama, the drama of our journey toward.. "Toward what?" Jack had asked when the librarian stopped speaking. "What do you think?" had been the answer. Like he'd wanted more questions. He'd asked for different books.

It had taken him twenty years, but he knew the answer to the question now. The journey, his anyway, had been toward redemption, salvation, finding his self, his soul, before he had lost it completely playing the game. His glance went to a photo of Sydney before it went back toward the stack of books. Will always just dumped new ones onto the pile. He really needed to pick them up, put the seemingly-random books into order, into categories. Napoleon should not be next to a book of sports quotations. But, he knew he kept them there like that because just seeing the disorder reminded him of Will and made him smile involuntarily.

There was a decided lack of control in being with Will. He remembered when he realized he had first lost control of the situation, even before the state of disorder he was in now. It was about a few weeks before Francie and Syd asked him to do that intervention, which he now thought of as Francie's little intervention into their love life, although he'd never tell her THAT. He and Will had been sitting on the sofa and Will had gotten up to get more food, as always, since the guy never stopped eating. Unconsciously, he knew now, Will had patted, almost caressed, Jack's thigh with his hand as he arose from the cushions. Jack had just stared at his leg, realizing that those feelings he had been repressing about Will.with that touch from Will, his reaction to it, well, he knew he had just lost control of his ability to ignore them. He had reached out and rubbed his leg where Will had touched him and thought, "I am losing it." Now he knew he had actually gained so much, the connection between..

Beep. Finally here was the email he had been waiting for from London. Clicking it open, he smiled at the message. Ah, information. He loved email, you could keep in touch with friends, colleagues, from all around the world without traveling. And, even better, if you know what you're doing, you can hack into other people's business. Yes, he loved email. Sending a quick reply, he closed the laptop.

Looking at the corner, he walked over to the pile and randomly picked one up, a book by Thomas Merton. For the first time he noted the inscription from Will to him, "To Jack: 'Does the road wind uphill all the way? / Yes to the very end / Will the day's journey take the whole long day? / From morn to night, my friend / by Christina Rosetti/ Will." He was struck by the fact, that although he had never articulated to Will that he felt like he was looking for something, moving. somehow Will had known.And how had Will known he would respond to his first efforts to change their relationship, as friends and now.as lovers? Why Will, of all people, why did Will see into him? Why did he know he could trust Will? But could he trust his own judgment, his own instincts? Looking at the book in his hand, he realized that all relationships were, in fact, a leap of faith. Some leaps could kill you and some leaps could save you. If one were calculating the odds. He put the book down as he thought with a smile, You can't change the past, only the future. Picking up the phone, he dialed Will, "So, tonight? Do you want to open that bottle of merlot?"

Chapter 19: "Love is the answer, but while you're waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty interesting questions." (Woody Allen) (Note: the original version of this chapter was NC-17, and is on the version I will archive at the Cover Me site).

Will's cell phone beeped. Francie asked, "Will, is Syd there?"

"Yes," he gritted out.

"I'll come over and try and get rid of her."

"That would be great. Thank you."

Sitting there in the pub, Will wondered how Syd was such a super spy if she could not feel the vibes emanating from the two men. He knew Jack was making a supreme effort to control himself in front of his daughter, but was he the only one to feel the waves of sexual heat rolling off Jack? Every second seemed like an hour, every accidental brush of Jack's pant leg or bare arm against Will seemed like it was screaming aloud to everyone in a 200 mile radius what the two men wanted. He was trying to avoid looking a Jack, he looked so.He could only imagine what Francie was thinking.

Thank God, she had come to rescue them. Jack and he had just pulled wine glasses out of the cabinet when Syd had knocked at the door. Jack had gritted out, "Unbelievable timing, unbelievable," while Syd had warbled on about wanting to spend time with the two of them. Luckily she had mentioned leaving Francie a note. Even more fortuitously, Will had excitedly called Francie to tell her the merlot was finally being opened after talking with Jack earlier. Jack had been really annoyed when Will had told him, "Can you NOT be discreet, Tippin?" he had growled. He was so irritated with Sydney's arrival, that for once it had been up to Will to come up with an excuse. He told her that they had plans, had just stopped in for a quick drink, but since she was here, why not go to this place a few blocks over? Anything to get her out of the apartment; Will was afraid if she plunked herself down, they'd never get rid of her. Jack had given him a dirty look, but once Syd had bopped down the hall to use the restroom, Will explained that it would be easier for Francie to get rid of her if they were out, which meant he had to explain why Francie would know they wanted Syd out of their hair. Jack had been so ticked. But once Francie had arrived he whispered to Will, "Okay, telling your friends can sometimes come in handy. You win this time. Although, once again, I don't think I can look Francie in the face."

Remembering, Will glanced over at Jack, seeing a vein in his jaw pulse. Finally, seeing the skin grow tighter and tighter across Jack's cheekbones, he looked down and saw that they had identical bulges in their pants. He could stand it no longer and said, "Syd, Francie, I'm sorry, but Jack and I really did have other plans. We need to go now. We'll follow you out to your cars if you want to leave too." He stood up, holding his jacket in front of him and pulled Jack up by the elbow, noting that he too held his leather jacket in front of him. He caught Francie's eye and she said, "That's fine. We'll just hang out here for a while. Have a good night."

Syd looked like she was about to say something, but Francie just began talking over her, pointing out some "gorgeous" guy at the bar who had, she said, been staring at Syd. Will rolled his eyes at Jack and whispered, "Let me guess, if I were to look over there, I'd see Vaughn, wouldn't I?" Jack glanced back casually and said, "If I were capable of laughing right now, I think I'd actually be in hysterics. What is this, a CIA reunion? Let's go, already, before we get caught up in that ridiculous soap opera."

Aside from the last time Will had hustled a Bristow out of the bar-that time with Syd to get her away from the Vaughn and Alice debacle - he had never been in such a hurry to leave anywhere. Well, maybe Sark's car in Taipei, he thought with an inner smile, realizing that somewhere along the way he must be truly healing if he could find humor in the memory.

Putting on their jackets, the two men walked down the street to Jack's car. Unlocking the doors, the men got in and looked at each other. Without a word being said, they reached for each other and their mouths fused. But within seconds, Will broke apart. "Wait, can't we be seen?"

"No, these windows are truly opaque and I parked as far away from a street light as I could."

"I should have known you wouldn't just act on impulse."

"You know I can't, for your sake, for your safety. I wish-"

"I know, Jack, I was just kidding."

"Oh. I guess I'm not in the mood at the moment for kidding."

"Actually, me either. Let's go."

"Let's go to your place, it's closer," Jack said quietly as he started the engine. Then both men jumped when there came a loud tapping on the passenger window. Will actually started to let out that idiotic scream of his, but stopped when he saw Jack begin to roll his eyes. "No nerves of steel for you, Tippin." But then smiled to soften the words, after all he had jumped too.

They looked over and saw Sydney tapping on the window. "You know, Jack, I love Syd, but right about now."

"Tell me about it." Rolling down the window, both men said simultaneously, "What?!"

"Well, I was just wondering what you thought I should do about-"

"For God's sake, Syd," Will interrupted, "if this is about Vaughn being at the bar."

Jack continued, "Sydney, honey, just do whatever feels right. There's no sign of Internal Security anywhere, I checked myself. So, if what feels right means finding a motel, use your training and find a way to do it without getting caught. Or use that warehouse you meet in all the time. If the chain links do it for the two of you, fine. Or just sit there all night and exchange meaningful glances. You're a big girl. Will and I have done enough for you. Figure. It. Out. Good night." And Jack hit the automatic window mechanism and the two men watched her shocked face disappear.

As they watched her walk back toward the pub, Will began to laugh, "'If the chain links do it for you'? "Or just sit there and exchange meaningful glances'? That was priceless. I cannot believe you said that."

"Actually, neither can I. I'm gonna pay for that, you know it." Jack put his hand on Will's thigh and it stopped Will's thought process for a second. "Oh yeah, you'll be getting the cold shoulder for a while on that one."

"Are you going to make it worth the sacrifice?" Jack asked as he massaged the long muscle in Will's upper thigh.

"I do believe so, Jack, if we can EVER get back to my place."

As Syd walked back into the bar, Francie heaved a sigh of relief. Not only did she know that Will was ready to kill Syd for interrupting what appeared to have been an important evening, she had to deal with Syd's stupidity about the couple. And now Syd was running away from the heated looks this absolutely incredible man had been sending her. What was wrong with that chick? When Syd sat back down, she asked her that very question. "Well, don't you think there's something odd going on with my dad and Will? They were giving off weird vibes all night, weren't they?"

"Syd, I've been trying to tell you for a while---"

"And now there's that guy I told you about from work - Michael - at the bar."

"Ohmigod, that's your Michael?"

"Well, I don't know if he's mine or not."

"Honey, when a man looks at a woman like that, he's yours. And let me tell you, if a man that hot were mine, I wouldn't be sitting over here talking to you. Make a move. I've got my own car. I'm outta here." As Francie walked away toward the entrance, she muttered, "God save me from the Bristows' love lives. I need one of my own, thank you."

As Will and Jack walked into his apartment building, Will noted Jack's instinctive scan of the exterior and interior. He would have to get more accustomed to doing that himself; he realized there was no option. He would have to wise up and become more self-sufficient to be with Jack or stand the risk of having the older man pull away in fear for his, Will's, safety. But as the elevator pulled to a halt on his floor, he wasn't really thinking of anything but how quickly they could get into his apartment. Once again, so quickly, the tension had risen so fast, so hard, between them that neither man could even look at the other. Ever since Jack had returned from Paris, they had held themselves to what he would have termed 'making out' in his teenage years. What do you call it when you're an adult? Torture, maybe?. Although maybe not. He had actually been tortured and it was a LOT less enjoyable than what Jack did to him, after all. Stop it, Tippin, Will scolded himself mentally, don't think about Jack's mouth and his hands.think about something else. He just had to control himself until they got in. Maybe multiplication tables...

Will stuck his key into the lock and shoved the door open, motioning Jack in first. Jack turned on a small light and then immediately went over to the light fixture with the bug killer in it to check on it. Following Jack through the door, Will turned back to lock it. Before he was barely done, Jack had pushed him against it, holding him in place with his body and his two hands on either side of Will's shoulders. Will breathed in the scent of Jack's body and cologne and gave a small shudder. Finally. He felt Jack still at the motion and then shuddered again when Jack bit softly at the curve of his shoulder and again when he laved the bite with his tongue. He tipped his head to allow Jack whatever he wanted. What Jack wanted was to drive him crazy, he realized, as the older man proceeded to lick and lightly suck the exposed flesh. Moaning, he pushed himself back into Jack's hard body and feeling the ridge of Jack's cock against his buttocks, rubbed himself back into it, surprising a deep moan from the older man. Taking advantage of his sudden slackening of attention, Will whirled around and put both hands behind Jack's neck and pulled his face over for the kiss he had been dying to give him for hours, if not days, if not weeks. Pouring his heart, his soul, his need into the kiss, Will's heart began to pound as he felt Jack's response. Finally, finally, Jack was letting go, something he had not done yet, letting Will feel the truth. It felt like a gift. He pulled back and whispered, "I love you too," and then covered Jack's mouth again.

Will gladly allowed Jack to take over the kiss, reangling their mouths over and over, delving deeper, then pulling back to bite lightly at Will's lower lip then laving it with his tongue, then kissing again, over and over, until both men were moaning. Will pulled back to begin undressing Jack. Again, the tension between the two of them escalated as they shoved off clothes. To Will's surprise, Jack, who was so incredibly picky about his wardrobe, didn't even notice that he'd dropped that beautiful black leather jacket on the floor. Stopping momentarily, Will picked up Jack's clothes and hung them over a chair.

"What are you doing?"

"I know you'll be mad in the morning if your clothes are a mess, Jack, don't deny it." They exchanged a smile.

"Well, while you're over there, reach into my pants pocket and get out-" Will pulled out a tube of lubricant and raised his eyebrows. "Yes, that's it." "How did you know that--? Don't tell me, let me guess, you did your research." "Come over here."

Will walked back over to where Jack stood in front of the wall and handed him the tube. Jack pushed Will's shoulders back against the wall. Will took a deep breath as he waited for Jack to make a move. Slowly, Jack uncapped the tube and squeezed out a generous dollop onto his left hand. He capped the tube and tossed it to the ground and sank to his knees in front of Will.

Will let out the breath he had been holding as Jack used his right hand to spread Will's legs further apart. "There, stand like that." Will did as Jack requested, or was it demanded? Who cared? As the night wore on, each made demands and requests of their own, until finally they lay quietly on the bed in Will's bedroom.

"I can't believe your mouth, Jack, the things you do with it and the things you say with it."

"Me? I don't think I've ever been so hard in my life as when you were talking there at the end. If I could have uttered a coherent sentence, it would have been thanks for being with a writer who can speak like that when I could barely."

"Well, so much for your vaunted self discipline, Jack."

"Yes, I think you've found a way to break my discipline, Will."

"Not completely, I know, but close. And see, wasn't that a good thing?"

"Well, in this case, anyway."

"We never did drink your merlot, did we? Do you want some now?"

"That would involve moving. Forget it. I just want to lie here for a while," Jack said as he rubbed his thigh against Will's. "We can drink it some other time, some other special occasion. This night has been memorable enough."

Chapter 20: Good judgment comes from experience, and experience, well, that comes from poor judgment. (Cousin Woodman)

"Francie said you and my dad had a fight?" Syd asked sympathetically as they microwaved popcorn.

"She told you?" Will asked in surprise.

"Well, she heard my dad start to yell at me earlier today. He didn't get a chance to finish because he got beeped, so I don't know what I did. It reminded her, I guess, that you'd had an argument with him, too. Maybe he's just cranky today."

"I think it's all my fault, including the fact that he's mad at you. I mentioned something you told me about work."

"Great, Will. Thanks. He's gonna kill me. Let me give you some advice on handling my dad when he's really ticked off. If you're going to try to be friends with him, you need to know that my dad either yells or he totally withdraws. Withdrawing is not good. Yelling is not fun, but at least it's not-"

"Hot is better than cold? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yeah. It's okay if he yells, then you can yell back and have a good fight. But when he gets all quiet - that means he's beyond mad and it's a lot of work to get through to him."

"So provoke him?" "If need be." "Great, sounds like tons of fun." "Yup." "

Is the popcorn done?" "Honestly, Will." Syd's phone rang a few minutes later. "My dad is on his way over."

"Is that good news or bad?"

"Well, at least he's not withdrawing, but he said he wants to talk to us both."

"That can't be good."

When Jack came in, Syd was surprised to see that his tie was pulled loose from his collar. How often did that happen? Like, never. Uh-oh. Without preamble, Jack started in. "Syd, it's become clear to me that you are talking to Will about your work. Can I ask - just what the HELL do you think you are doing? It's so. where do I start? It's unprofessional to be telling someone without the appropriate security clearance about your missions and intel such as Echelon. That information is always on a need to know basis. Do you think Vaughn goes to the CIA gym and starts up conversations saying, 'Hey, guess what I've been working on this week?' DO YOU?"

"Hey, Dad, you're always saying he sticks too closely to procedure!"

"There's a difference between slavish adherence to rules for no good reason and acting like a stupid fool. Into which category do you fall with this behavior?" Pausing for a breath, he continued ranting, "And God knows, Tippin doesn't need much information or encouragement to go off the deep end. You endanger him everytime you open your damn mouth. Do you think I want to live through another Taipei?"

"Dad-" "I'm not done. Do you think I'm still alive after all these years as a double because I tell my friends the details of my work?"

"Do you have any friends, Dad? Do you?" "Low blow, Syd," Will muttered under his breath, wisely having kept silent up to now. Jack reared back and ran his left hand through his hair, another sign of deep distress, Will thought. Jack was always nagging him about that habit, telling him it showed a lack of self discipline. Well, he wasn't going to bring that up right now. Keeping quiet seemed like a really good idea.

Jack paused, before saying quietly, "I thought we were becoming friends." Syd looked away. He continued, "And sometimes friends.and family have to tell you when you are acting foolishly. Isn't that what you did to me in Kashmir?" When she made no reply, he pressed, "Isn't it?" "

Yes," she admitted finally. "It's just---"

"I know, Will knows about your double life now and it probably feels great to have someone to talk to about it, you don't feel so isolated. But it's dangerous for anyone to know too much. I never want to see him again the way he did when .Don't you realize that Sloane considers that Will's life is on notice, that if he inadvertently makes one wrong step..." Jack trailed off and glanced away. Then looking back, he continued, "Will, for example, that young woman at your Narcotics Anonymous meetings who wanted you to write about SD6 and check out her conspiracy website? She was Internal Security for SD6. If you hadn't answered properly, you wouldn't be sitting here with that tub of popcorn right now."

"Oh my God," Syd moaned.

"Yes, only God would have been able to save him then. She would have killed him before he even had a chance to get home." Silence fell as everyone digested the news.

Will, naturally, Jack thought, was the one to break the quiet. "If I might make one small suggestion? It seems to me that you both need an outlet for your work and call me stupid, but the obvious outlet is each other. Why don't you talk to each other? I accept that Syd shouldn't be talking to me. But Jack if you'll stop worrying so much about protecting Sydney by keeping information from her and Syd, if you'll start seeing your father as a valuable resource personally and professionally. well, I think you'd probably both be better adjusted." He waited and then said, "I think I'll go wait in Jack's car for my turn in the crosshairs. Talk amongst yourselves." Jack threw him the car keys.

The front door slammed. Jack said sullenly, "Don't you just hate it-"

"When Will is right?" Syd finished, equally sullenly. They both looked up and caught each other's eyes and started to laugh.

"It's a sad day," Syd began and her father concluded, "When Tippin tells us how to behave properly."

Syd responded, "I hate to admit it, but he has a point and Dad, so do you. I was wrong. I was just so happy to have someone to talk to, I wasn't thinking. There's no excuse." Jack slowly, cautiously reached out his hand toward Sydney and to his delight, she grasped it for a moment. Standing side by side without looking at each other, Syd started, "So, I think maybe he's right and we should be each other's own best resource."

"You can always talk to Vaughn or Weiss, too."

"So could you, Dad." "Humph."

"No, really. Make me a promise? That if you need to talk to someone, for ideas or whatever, and I'm not available, that you'll call one of them? They'd be thrilled and honestly, you have so much information, so much experience, look upon it as another way to train them up right," she concluded with an impish smile.

"Well, that's a good spin on it, Syd," Jack said.

"I try. So why don't you go out and read him the riot act before he worries himself to death?"

"Hmm, I suppose I've tortured him long enough." Syd watched him walk away and then muttered, "Great, he never made the promise."

Jack walked out to the car and tapped on the window for Will to unlock the door. At least he had learned enough to keep the door locked, Jack reflected. He got in the driver's side and rested his head on the steering wheel for a moment. Will reached out a tentative hand and placed his fingers on the back of Jack's neck for just a moment. "Jack, I-" "Not a word, Tippin, not right now, not right here," Jack said as he lifted his head and shifted the car into drive. Jack drove to a pier and the two got out. "This is where Syd and I had an argument about you and if, how we were going to try and save you. She accused me then of having no friends and not knowing how scared she felt for you," Jack said staring out at the water. Will objected, "You and I know that Syd was wrong, is wrong. You care deeply about people. I think she'll come to see that, if you let her and if she lets you." Jack said nothing.

After a long while, Will said, "So, are you going to yell at me or what?"

When Jack's only response was to give a slight upward quirk of the corners of his mouth, Will sighed. "I've blown it haven't I?"

"What do you mean?" Jack asked.

"Here I know you are concerned about.us and whether it's a good idea. It's been going well now for two months and I go and do something so stupid as to plan to bring classified documents out of work to show you."

"And that would blow it, why?"

"Because that was so stupid and-"

"Will, it was just inexperienced and unprofessional. You can learn, if you choose to do so. As I said to Syd, you two have to learn when to use the rule book and when not to. In this case, copying the documents would have endangered your job. You do like having health and dental insurance, don't you?" he quipped. Will nodded. "In addition, you didn't need to remove the documents. Play smart. Memorize the information. Got that?" Another nod. "Thirdly, you don't need to copy the photos to prove to me that you were right, that it was Sark in those photos at Alliance headquarters. I'll believe you."

Will's head jerked around, "You do? Why?"

"You excel at synthesis or syncretic thought. In other words, you are good at putting two and two together. You are a good, solid investigator, if you have a hunch, a reason to believe that an idea is worth pursuing, you are probably right. At least that's what I wrote in my recommendation for you, so don't prove me wrong," Jack ended wryly.

"Seriously?" You gave me a recommendation? Will asked.

"For desk work, Tippin, desk work," Jack said shaking his head.

"Do you know that Vaughn called it being 'desk-trained'?" Will asked with a grin.

"'Desk-trained'? That makes it sound like you know when to use the litter box," Jack laughed. "That's what I thought, too."

The two men laughed together for a moment before Jack sobered and continued, "Seriously, though, Will, there is another reason why I would believe you when you say you could identify Sark through his hands alone. Well, two. First, it's extremely difficult to alter someone's hands through plastic surgery and most people making identity switches would never even think of doing it. Secondly, after the amount of time you spent with that animal, what his hands did to you in the light, you would remember them. The mind tends to focus on the instruments of pain or pleasure and burn it into our memories to teach us lessons." Jack looked at Will carefully, but the younger met his gaze calmly.

"Did you know," Jack said conversationally, "That many years ago, a case was brought to the Supreme Court by a man who had been convicted of rape based upon the account of his victim. He alleged that she had only seen his face for 30 seconds and how could she make a positive id based upon 30 seconds of contact? The conviction was upheld. One of the justices wrote that those 30 seconds were probably the longest of that woman's life, that they seemed more like 30 hours. And you were in his custody for a lot longer than 30 seconds." Will looked down.

Jack stated firmly, "Will, I believe you. I'm glad you told me. I wish your boss believed you too, that would make this much easier."

"Make what easier?"

"Moving forward on this investigation." Will looked at Jack in shock, "You mean you think I am right - that this is worth investigating?"

"Of course. In this particular instance. Why in the world is Sark working at Alliance headquarters? I want to know. Now before you go off thinking that you are -"

"Super spy?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Here are the rules. You never take the documents on any topic, including any you think are SD6-related, out of the office. You don't talk about it with Sydney. Period. Or Vaughn or anyone else. That's my responsibility. You tell your boss your suspicions, present your analysis to her as requested and/or required. Always, always do that, never hold anything back."

"Why?" "Because that's what CYA is - cover your ass, Tippin. CYA in the CIA - can you remember that? Covering your ass may be crucial to your job security and personal safety. Do you understand?" "Yes." "Do I have your promise?" "Yes."

Jack heaved a sigh and looked out over the water again. "Tippin, I think most people would think that you and I have an unequal relationship. That I call the shots."

"You do."

"Really? It doesn't feel that way to me sometimes. Never has. How is it you ended up investigating SD6 even after I had you abducted and smacked you around a little?"

"Is that what you call a little?" Will joked and then froze at the look on Jack's face. "Wait a minute - you still feel guilty about that, don't you? Forget about it. You were just trying to make me see sense for my own good. I'd already proven I don't listen well. Ah-that's what you're talking about, isn't it?"

"The fact that you are so stubborn, that you have a tendency to go off on your investigations, on your ideas and no one could stop you?" "Even you? Is that what you're thinking?"

"Yes, that's one last reason why I am taking your intel. I am hoping that by doing so-"

"You can control it better than last time? And I think our relationship is different now. For one thing, I know you and trust you implicitly and if you tell me something.."

"Oh. Good. I hope that by treating you like a, and I hesitate to say this," he smiled, "more of a partner, we will all come out of this better than we did out of Taipei. No, actually, Will, I know you are a more careful, cautious person after Taipei. I know that experience changed you somewhat or a lot, actually. Or else--"

"Or else, you wouldn't have considered a relationship between us, would you?"

"Truthfully, no. You're enthusiastic, persistent, loyal to a fault, curious - all good, no great qualities. But in moderation. You need more focus sometimes."

"Thanks, Jack, you're doing wonders for my ego."

Jack turned and began walking back to the car. "I believe you've told me more than a few hard truths in your turn, too."

"Is this what you were talking about with Syd - that friends and family tell each other when they are acting foolishly?" The men opened the doors and sat down. "Yes, I guess it is." They stared out the window at the water.

"Thank you," each said. They caught each other's eye and chuckled. "We do that a lot, don't we?" asked Will. "And let me guess, that bothers you, Jack?"

"Clearly, you are getting to know me too well. Why were you saying thank you?"

"For believing in me professionally and personally too. And you?"

"For not being afraid of my anger."

"I know where it comes from -- your protectiveness." "That again." "Always."

"Let's go, this pier is not my favorite place." "Well, I'll always remember it fondly. You gave me a recommendation? What a hoot."