Seriously?

by Camille2

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

3. Chapters 21 thru 34, the plot thickens

Chapter 21: "False face must hide what the false heart doth know." (Shakespeare, Macbeth)

Will and Jack were at Will's apartment, scavenging through the cabinets for something to eat. "I think we're actually going to have to break down and go grocery shopping," Jack stated finally. "Surely not!" Will laughed. "We are two grown men, we shouldn't have to stoop to shopping. There's always takeout. The menus are-" "Yeah, I know in the cabinet where other people might actually keep, oh I don't know, food." After arguing for a while about whose turn it was to pick the food choices, Will finally made the phone call. An hour later, over sushi, which Will loved but Jack merely tolerated ("I don't understand the appeal of eating raw meat," Jack had complained once, but never again when Will had started to "giggle like a girl" Jack said), the conversation moved on to the regular discussion about weekend entertainment.

"So, I bought tickets to 'Much Ado About Nothing,'" Jack commented.

"Oh, no, no, no. Not another Shakespearean play. No. Not again. Not for a while anyway. You dragged me to that Japanese film last week, that was my last compromise for a while."

"What are you complaining about? You got three good hours of sleep out of it," Jack groused. "Besides, Much Ado is a comedy. You like those."

"Oh, I forgot that play was a comedy. When is it?" "Two weeks from tonight. Check your planner." Will got up. "Sorry, I have to work late almost every night that week. It's a special issue of the magazine."

"Is that true, or are you just trying to get out of it?"

"No! I do like those comedies. Really. Don't look at me like that. Who are you going to ask?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, I already asked Syd," he smiled at Will who pretended to be offended, "But she's hunkered down with the dissertation. So, actually, I think I'll ask Arvin. We used to go to plays together." "Before." "Before."

"Do you think he might be jealous of your time? The time you spend with me?"

"No, why would he? And jealous - I don't know, do men get jealous of their friends? What was that quotation from the other day?"

""Jealousy is a sign of neurotic instability?'" "Yeah, that one."

Arvin handed Jack a drink from the bar during intermission. "Thanks for asking me to the play, Jack. It's been a while since we've done something like this."

"Yes. Perhaps not since Emily's cancer was in remission."

"I'm glad you asked me. I've been a little lonely. It's too bad you've been so busy lately with other things."

Jack raised an eyebrow and said, "Yes, I've been doing a lot of reading lately." He raised his glass and avoided Arvin's eyes.

Sloane filled in the silence with, "It's too bad that Syd couldn't make it. After all, she's an English major. How's that dissertation going?"

"Slowly. She doesn't have the concentrated time spans one really needs to write that kind of work."

"True, but I don't know why she keeps on with it."

"You know she hopes to retire some day and teach."

"Like her mother?" "Yes."

"Does that bother you - that even knowing what Irina was, that Sydney is still trying to emulate her, rather than you?" Good jab, Arvin, Jack thought, as he schooled his face into a scowl. "Sorry, Jack, didn't mean to hit a sore spot," Arvin said with a pat on Jack's back. Maybe, Jack thought, he and Syd could go fifty-fifty on industrial strength cleaners to be used solely for scrubbing away the stench of a Sloane touch. He suppressed the urge to shudder when Sloane touched him on the hand and said, "Well, finish up. I think the bell is going to ring in a minute."

Chapter 22: "Ninety percent of the game is half mental." (Yogi Berra)

The m.o. was always the same, Will mused, as he and Jack entered the apartment. For 4 months now, whenever they entered Jack would head over to the bugkiller and check it. He still remembered the time Jack had raised his eyebrows, tossed out his card case and said, "Idiots. Black and gray are not the same color."

Tonight was the night for "the" big discussion. They had each been dancing around it verbally for a while, but the timing was right. Jack flung himself down on the sofa and grumpily said, "Okay, Tippin, spit it out already." Avoiding an immediate answer, Will went over to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water. Tossing one toward Jack, he opened his and took a long drink. "Tippin--"

"Okay, okay. I was just composing my words in my head."

"While I can always appreciate caution, you look a little green, so clearly waiting isn't helping the situation."

"Okay, the truth is, it's time for me to leave this cruddy little apartment and move on. The question is, where should I be moving?"

Jack commented casually, "Let's look at the paper. Where do you want to move?"

"You - stop it!" Will exclaimed as he saw the slow smile creeping over Jack's face.

"You know where I want to move. Is it going to happen or what?"

"Well, you know how I like lists. Tell me all the reasons why I should have you move into my house."

"List! Reasons!", Will exclaimed. But with a smile of his own, Will put down his bottle and leaned over Jack. "I can think of one good, no great reason," he murmured before capturing Jack's mouth with his own. When he released him, Jack said, "Mmm. Your version of a list works for me. When is your lease up? Or do you want me to pay it off for you?" "No! What am I, some ---?" "Boytoy?" Jack laughed, hard, as Will picked up and threw his bottle of water at him.

Catching the bottle, Jack stopped laughing and said solemnly, "Changing the subject, I'd feel better anyway if you were safe in my house."

"You mean that impregnable fortress you call a home?"

"Very funny. It serves its purpose. But, really, Will, I worry about you here in this apartment. You know that was my major concern about us getting involved - that who I am, what I do, would put you at risk. Sydney can take care of herself, but you, you're just a baby when it comes to security."

"Thanks a bunch," Will said derisively. "Will, I just meant-"

"I know what you meant. You meant that you worry. You worry because you care. You're worried that my moving in is too obvious a statement. Can you live with that?"

"You in my place means less worry. I'll come up with some story for the benefit of my colleagues. Hmm, I know - you can be my caretaker."

"Like Kato Kaelin, the loser at OJ Simpson's? Thanks."

"I thought you'd appreciate that. But, I guess the benefits of your moving in outweigh the risks."

"I'll make sure they do," Will said firmly, but with a smile.

Chapter 23: "Good humor is one of the best articles of dress one can wear in society." (William Makepeace Thackeray)

Will's lease was up in a month. He conned Francie and a few guys from work to help him move one day. It didn't take long to move Will's possessions, mostly his clothes, computer and files into 'his' room. Jack's original bed was exchanged for Will's king. Later that night, after the guys had left, he, Francie and Jack sat around relaxing. Syd was away on local assignment that day and wouldn't be home until early in the morning. To their continual astonishment, she had asked no questions when Jack carefully told her that Will was moving in. She had looked quizzical, but said nothing. Jack had just sighed. He hadn't even gotten a chance to try out the caretaker story on her. Too bad.

"So, Will, it didn't look like you had much in the way of clothes," Francie commented, thinking about the move. "That's probably a good thing; how much closet space is Jack giving you, anyway?"

Will snorted, "Give up some of his precious closet space? Jack? You've got to be kidding. That guy has more clothes, and shoes, and ties than your average men's store. And the ties? A freakin' museum of ties, all color coordinated."

"How else would the ties be organized?" Jack asked defensively.

"C'mon, Francie, let me show you," Will said, pulling her up.

While Jack followed behind them, he pushed Francie into the master bedroom and into the huge walk-in. "Oh. My. God." Francie gasped as she took in the closet. "You have two tuxedoes? How many Armani suits can one man have? Wow. Everything is arranged by formality and then by color. How obsessive compulsive is this? I'm sure Will's clothes are just in a heap on the bottom of the closet."

"Well," Will said sheepishly, "That's another reason he wouldn't let me share his closet. Nothing can mar the pristine atmosphere of the museum."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny," Jack snarked.

Francie continued scanning the racks. "Wow, way too many white shirts, though, Jack. You look better in dark colors." Turning around at Will's poke, she gasped again, "I see what you mean, Will, it's like a tie display in a museum. These are beautiful and some are so different. When do you wear them? Where did you get all of these ties?"

"Oh, they're from my travels. It's like a travelogue for me. Will knows all about them. I've bored him to tears with the stories. He can tell you or you two can just stay here and make fun of me. I'm going to go straighten out Will's closet in 'his' room. I won't go to sleep tonight with his clothes just in a heap. That really irritates me. And I bet his computer isn't even hooked up in there yet," he mumbled as he walked out, but both Francie and Will missed the little smile on his face as he went down the hall.

The next day, Francie and Sydney were woken early by the ring of the telephone. Francie got to it first and to her sleepy, "Huh?" heard Will nearly screeching, "Do you know what he did?"

"Hold on, Will, I'll put you on speaker so Syd can hear."

"Do you know what he did when he was supposedly arranging my closet for me?" Will demanded. Both women looked at each other and then Syd gave an impish grin, "Let me guess. He destroyed some of your rattier clothes because he just couldn't have them in his house or have anyone see you dressed like that walking out of his house, also known as the museum of Jack Bristow's clothing?"

"Oh," Will said somewhat deflated, "You know about the museum, huh?"

"Oh, yeah, my dad's is just a touch obsessive about his clothes. So what did he throw out?"

"My corduroys," Will said plaintively. Syd and Francie giggled. "Good!" both said. In the background, they could hear Jack protesting, "I offered to buy him new clothes!"

"Go, Will, take him up on it," Francie urged. "Puh-leeze, let him buy you new clothes."

Syd added, "Better yet, let him pick them out FOR you."

"There's nothing wrong with the way I dress," he argued, "I was just going to buy new cords." Everyone laughed and Will responded, "C'mon."

"C'mon, Will, honestly, the cords had to go. My dad did the world a public service," Syd said while Francie giggled.

Jack said, "Who wants to go and help me browbeat him into wearing clothes, at least occasionally, that look like they were fashionable at some point in the last decade?"

Francie groaned, "Oh, I'd love to, but I have to go to the restaurant. Syd?"

"Yeah, sure. I have the whole day off. This should be fun."

"Fun?" Will moaned. "Yeah, fun. The Bristows tag team Tippin into totally new togs," Syd laughed.

"Alliteration. Glad to see that all that money for grad school is paying off, Syd," Jack commented dryly. "Should we pick you up in an hour and go spend my money? Maybe you'd like a new outfit too - for putting up with the inevitable whining from Will today?"

"Sure, I'll take it."

"Damn, I wish I could go," Francie said, "Fun torturing Will AND an outfit!"

"Forget it, Francie," Jack said, "No outfits for you after the way you ridiculed my closet last night."

"Jack, just buy yourself some new shirts that are not white. Dark colors, remember?" Francie demanded.

Chapter 24: "Always mystify, mislead and surprise the enemy if possible." (Stonewall Jackson)

Jack walked into Arvin Sloane's office, schooling his face into guileless unconcern, when he really wanted to laugh aloud. He loved these games. Tippin thought he was nuts. What was that line he'd read the other day? "Brinksmanship, the most popular game since Monopoly." As he sat in a chair, Arvin closed the door behind him. Walking in front of Jack, he perched himself on the edge of the desk. Looking down he crossed his arms and just stared at Jack, who wasn't paying him any attention. "Yes, Arvin, what is it?" Jack asked impatiently, while straightening the cuffs of his shirt. He wasn't sure about these French cuffs, he wasn't a big fan of cuff links. Sydney had talked him into them, but....

Finally, noting that Arvin had yet to say a word, Jack stopped fussing and looked up. "Yes? What IS it?" he queried.

"I'm wondering," Arvin said slowly, "If you are out of your mind? Or is it just a particularly foolish, potentially fatal, midlife crisis?"

"I beg your pardon?" Jack asked frostily.

"Please, Jack. Let's cut the crap. Last month --moving Tippin in with you? What were you thinking? Are you thinking at all?" Arvin demanded. Jack squirmed a little and said defensively, "So? I have a housemate, now. So what?"

"A housemate? Is that what you call it? "

"Why do you care? Why do you have such a personal interest in this? I am wondering that, Arvin."

"Again, it's the security risk."

"Really? It seems to me that having Tippin in my house, where I can keep an eye on him and know if he's stepping over any lines, would lessen the risk. Which, by the way, is nothing. He's working for some damn travel magazine and is glad to have that job."

Arvin shook his head slowly, "But, Jack, the risk." "What risk?"

"The risk of you saying something in a moment.." Sloane trailed off as Jack pushed the chair back and stood up. Arvin inched off the desk and backed away. Dropping his previously lax attitude, Jack assumed his more customary mantle of control. "Between you and Ariana Kane, what is this sudden fascination with my supposed sex life, Arvin? In all the years we've known each other, we have never had ANY conversation on the topic, which has suited me fine, in case you're wondering. What, all of a sudden, do you find so interesting? I am wondering. And why in the world would you think, if Tippin and I were involved, that I would be the kind to spill secrets? I believe I learned that lesson with Irina, don't you think? In any case, Tippin shares my house. Period. He has his own room, he sleeps in his own bed. I defy you to prove anything else."

Seeing Arvin's eyes flare with interest, Jack continued, "I mean, really, Arvin. Tippin is young enough to be my son. That would be somewhat...pathetic, wouldn't it?"

Turning on his heel, he stalked out of the room and let the door slam behind him. One of these days, he thought, he was really going to have to find a new hobby. But not just yet.

Chapter 25: "If you cannot convince them, confuse them." (Harry Truman)

Mmm, what a way to wake up, Will mused, still mostly asleep, feeling Jack's lips and tongue slide warmly across his mouth. Reaching up blindly, he put his arms around Jack's neck and opened his mouth. Gently, slowly, Jack explored the familiar territory. Even mostly asleep, it wasn't long before Will was returning the kisses with ever deeper strokes of his own tongue. Still not opening his eyes, he pulled back and asked, "Jack, what time is it? Didn't we just fall asleep? Aren't you tired?"

"Poor thing," Jack laughed softly in the darkened room as he stroked Will's arms and shoulders. Rolling his shoulders experimentally, Will said, "My muscles are still sore from all those drills you had us do when you got home. I'm gonna be a mess in the morning and you want to---"

"I want to make love to you. Open your legs." Automatically, Will complied and then sighed as Jack resumed kissing him, settling his warm naked body between Will's legs and over his chest. Holding himself up on one elbow, Jack whispered, "See that wasn't so bad, doing what you were told, was it? I'm not hearing any complaints like I did in the basement."

"Hmm, like I would ever resist that mouth of yours. Maybe you should have used that instead of yelling at me, 'Throw harder!' It could be a new teaching technique, only you can use it only on-"

"You. But I should keep that in mind, that I should be using my mouth for actions other than yelling to persuade you to do what I want?"

"You know the truth, wherever, whenever, all you have to do is kiss me and whatever you want." Still so sleepy, feeling like he was floating, Jack's mouth on his, Jack's hands caressing his body seemed like part of a dream, his mind wandered.

Jack pulled his face back and with his left index finger traced the smile on Will's lips. "What's so funny, Tippin?" he asked as Will half-opened his eyes.

"I'm just remembering, when we were first going out, when we'd spend all that time just making out."

"Good memories?"

"Mmm, and I was remembering how tentative you were with your hands then."

"I was trying..." Jack trailed off.

"Trying to figure out this attraction between us?"

"Yes. I'd never had feelings like that for a man before and it was confusing."

"You're certainly not confused anymore, judging by the way you use your hands now," Will smiled. He began to close his eyes again, only to stop when Jack said, "No, it didn't take me long to figure out that some things you just have to accept." Then he added quietly, "Accept as a gift." He lowered his head again and whispered, "Are you too tired? Are you awake enough to do this?"

"Hmm, you can wake me up some more. But I want to know, just where do you get your energy?"

Jack blurted out the answer, "From you, from how I feel about you, from how you feel about me. That's when I lost my confusion, when I realized that my desire for you sprang from my feelings for you." He looked surprised at his own candor.

"Show me. Again," Will said softly, looking up into Jack's eyes. "I'm awake."

Across town, another man nursed a drink while staring at the covers mounded over a form in his bed. Wondering silently, was this pathetic? Was he pathetic? What was he doing? Who was the cat and who the mouse?

Chapter 26: "No opera plot can be sensible, for in sensible situations people do not sing." (W.H. Auden)

"Syd, are you listening? You look tired and.bemused, I guess I'd say." Vaughn said carefully. As always. Careful was his middle name wasn't it? What WAS his middle name? See, just another thing she did not know about him. Focus, Syd.

"I am. Last night I was up late and it was just a weird night. Almost surreal."

"Why, what happened?"

"You would never believe it. Anyway, it's a long story and I'm sure you've got better things to do than hear it."

"No, actually, I don't. Tell me."

"Francie, Will and I conned my dad into going with us to a karaoke bar."

"Jack? Jack Bristow in a karaoke bar? I'd pay good money to have seen that." Vaughn laughed. " Just how uncomfortable was he?"

"You're not gonna believe this, but he was the best singer all night. He got a standing ovation." She shook her head.

"You. Are. Kidding. Jack Bristow singing? Jack Bristow singing in public? In a karaoke bar? There is no way, without video surveillance, that I will ever believe that. "

"You know, just know, Dad's already had the bar's security tape pulled and destroyed, don't you?" Syd laughed too. "Well, actually, I had forgotten, completely forgotten, until last night, that before Irina left, Dad used to sing around the house all the time. He had a really good voice. And a song for every occasion, every incident in life. It would drive my mother crazy because when he really got going, she said she felt like she was living on the set of that old game show, 'Name That Tune.' She asked me a while back if he still sang. She said he had come down her hallway humming -"

"Humming? Jack? In that hallway?"

"Yeah, he told her it was the theme song from that old tv show, 'Get Smart'." Syd smiled and began to laugh. "Isn't that a scream? 'Get Smart'? Remember how Don Adams, he played this totally inept spy and he had to go down through that long corridor with all those gates and doors to talk on his shoe phone. Or was it a pay phone?"

Vaughn cracked up. "He was humming 'Get Smart'? I think I'll start calling you Agent 99. Or is that your mother? I'll be thinking of that the next time I walk down that hallway. That's hysterical, actually."

"I know. Lately, I've seen much more of his sense of humor. Anyway, she didn't know about 'Get Smart' and thought I was insane for just giggling for a few minutes. But she said the humming reminded her of his fascination with music. She said he had the most amazing musical memory she had ever known. Heard a song once and could sing it for the first time years later in perfect pitch. Which of course would have been important to her because of the connection between musicality and math. Anyway, I had forgotten the music even after Irina brought it up, even after that concert we all went to, even after hearing Will and my dad talk about all the concerts they go to. I can't believe I had forgotten. Or truthfully, I 'd chosen not to remember."

"I need to sit down. This is totally changing my perception of Jack. It makes me think we should have had him analyzing those tunes off the Rambaldi music box. It also makes me think, Syd."

"About just what my mother's betrayal did to him? Me, too." She looked away. "I have been selfish, really thinking only about what it did to me. But, last night, sitting there, I think for the first time I truly understood what that betrayal took away from him. Everything. Just everything. His wife, his judgment, his belief in himself, his ability to enjoy life.everything." She paused, thinking, then smiled. "And then.. last night he was singing 'Surrey with the Fringe on Top' with Francie in a karaoke bar."

Vaughn burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, Syd, but the very notion."

"I know, I almost peed my pants myself. How Will is able to con him into these things, I don't know."

"Will?"

"Well, it all started when my dad was late. Will went to get some tunes and ended up showing us my dad's music collection. Every since he moved into my father's about two months ago, he's been talking about this collection. It's huge, amazing. And I started to remember what my mom had said and blurted out something about my dad singing. That's where we got the idea to go to karaoke. When my dad came home yesterday, he was in a really good mood - he must have nailed Sloane again for something yesterday - and Will conned him, somehow, I'll never understand it. Not that we thought any of us would actually get up and sing. Well, maybe Will, he has no inhibitions. But my dad? Never."

"Well, how did you get him up on stage? I mean if he hasn't sung in twenty years?"

"You know Will. He's like a dog with a bone sometimes. He just kept badgering him. I know you must think that my dad pushes Will around, but honestly, Will is really good at getting my dad to do things he doesn't really want to do. Meanwhile, I kept saying in my best, whiney, little girl voice, 'Daddy, please? I remember when I was a kid...' and sniffing a little."

"He didn't buy that?"

"Nah, but it tugged on the old guilt strings. And Francie and I kept his drink filled. But Will was relentless. And suddenly Jack Bristow's up there singing show tunes."

"I still can't believe it."

"Believe it. He even has a little plastic trophy. To commemorate one of the weirdest nights of my life. I have such a headache."

"Hungover? Maybe the whole scene was just the product of hallucinatory drunkenness?"

"I wish. No, it's because I was awake for most of the night remembering. And then trying to figure out how Will does it, how he gets my dad to do these things. What's the key? Anyway, what did you want? I've taken up too much time. It's Sunday, you weren't at work, you don't have on a suit." She smiled approvingly at his jeans and tshirt. For a slender guy, he had great arms. For once, she'd like him to walk away first so she had the opportunity to see his butt. Even in that bar, all those months ago, she had been the one to walk away first, with nothing resolved between them.

"It's no big deal, I just needed you to look at this intel from your last mission. It will take just a minute or two for you to interpret and then you can go."

"Good, I'm late. Francie and I bet Will that if he was successful in getting my dad up on stage, we'd make and deliver a gourmet brunch this morning over to the 'Will and Jack show.'"

"Are you still calling them that?"

"Sure. You should see them together." She stopped and then said quickly, "Give me the intel." When she finished and handed it back, giving her interpretation, he said thoughtfully, "You four are spending a lot of time together, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I guess. Now that my dad and Will are such good friends, which is weird I know. Will drags him everywhere. Although my dad drags Will to places he'd never go - like men's stores that don't sell corduroy. I'll have to tell you that story some time." She laughed. "But actually, although I'm a little jealous sometimes of their relationship, I am grateful, really, to Will. I feel like I'm finally getting to know my father now."

"Well, it sounds like he's a fascinating person, once you strip away that mask he's been wearing for twenty years and get him to actually open up."

Syd was silent for a moment, thinking. "What a good way to put it. He HAS been wearing a mask for twenty years. Maybe he's finally getting some closure now that he's able to look my mother in the eye," Syd said slowly.

"And maybe you opening up to him a little and whatever it is that Will does for him."

"Umm. You know, I was thinking. Do you have any where to go after we leave here?" Now she was speaking fast, very fast.

"No, not really. Why? Aren't you on your way to your dad's house?"

"Why don't you come with me? I was just thinking.there's tons of boxes here. You could get in one and I could have the attendant help me wheel you out and into my SUV. You can be my books for my dissertation, I can tell him that I really do store them here to perfect the cover. Then I could drive into my dad's garage and you could get out. No one would ever know. You know my dad's house is better than a CIA safe house."

"That's crazy."

"Okay, fine. It was just an idea. I thought it would be fun to sit around on a Sunday with the people who are important in my life, with you, and just hang out."

"No, no, you're right. Why wouldn't it work? Let's go ahead."

Chapter 27: "I hope you have not been leading a double life, pretending to be wicked and being really good all the time. That would be hypocrisy." (Oscar Wilde)

"Jack, that's your phone ringing." "Hello?" "Daddy, it's me. Can you move your car out of the garage? I need to drive mine inside. I have a surprise." "Sure, but Francie brought more than enough food, so I hope it's not that." "No. It's not. See you in about 15 minutes. Bye." What was that smile in her voice about, Jack wondered.

Francie was unloading one of her two caterer's boxes on the kitchen counter as he came back in from moving his car. "Francie, you brought enough to feed an army. And why are you and Syd doing this anyway?," Jack asked as he yawned his way into the kitchen. Francie did a doubletake as she noted that Jack was wearing jeans and a tshirt. Neatly-pressed jeans and heavy-weight silk-blend black tshirt, to be sure, but Jack in jeans? Was the world coming to an end? Would she see him in sneakers next?

Trying not to laugh at the mental image, Francie answered, "Syd and I promised Will that if he could get you on stage last night, we'd deliver a gourmet brunch this morning."

"Is that so? He never told me there was a brunch at stake. I still can't believe I did that, got up on stage." Jack walked over to the coffee machine. "Try that coffee - it's a new blend I'm thinking about for the restaurant. But as for last night -- believe it, your little plastic trophy is right up there on the refrigerator. I wish I'd had a camera."

"I am eternally grateful that you did not. What the people at work would think..."

"You and Syd spend too much time at work, worrying about work. You're both workaholics of the worst kind. That's why last night was so great. You got to really unwind. How often do you get to do that?" "I suppose, but I still can't believe I let the three of you talk me into a karaoke bar of all things."

Will came in grinning, "Well, it's better than what I originally wanted to do last night, isn't it?"

"Humph. That is never going to happen." Jack grumped as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Never going to happen?" Francie asked, smiling. "I wouldn't say that if I were you, Jack, look at all the stupid things Will's already conned you into."

Jack said firmly, "Not this one."

Francie gave Will a quizzical look. "I wanted to go to a dance club," Will said in response. Francie chuckled, "I gotta admit, I don't see it."

"I don't mean one of those techno dance clubs for kids. We're all too old for that. But I was thinking a jazz type place. We've got two men, two women, there's no reason why not."

"Forget it, Tippin. Absolutely not going to happen. Ever."

Wills smirked. "But, why not? I mean, we all know, now, that you are musical. And I, for one, know that you can get a good rhythm going when you want to."

Jack dropped his coffee cup and stared at Will in shock. Had he really said that in front of Francie? Turning towards her, he watched her let out a shriek of laughter and spit out the orange juice she had just sipped. And then she giggled helplessly when she saw the swash of red climb up Jack's face. He turned around and walked into the pantry, no doubt to get the mop or possibly, Francie thought, to just hang himself.

Between giggles, Francie said warningly, "Be careful, Will. Don't push him too hard." Will raised his eyebrow and mouthed silently, 'Push him....hard?' "Don't even think of saying it, Tippin," Jack yelled from the pantry. Francie fell into another paroxysm of laughter.

"Saying what?" Syd asked as she came in, "Did I miss something?" Francie choked on her laughter and began giggling again.

"Yes, thank God." Jack said as he reentered the room. "What was the surprise?"

"Oh, good, did you bring him?" Francie asked.

"Yes, he's here. He's helping me with a box in the car. Will and Dad, could you help him?"

"He? Who's he?" Jack asked, knowing the answer.

"This guy at the bank she's had a crush on," Francie said smugly. "I told her this morning when he called to drag her into work that she should invite him back over here for brunch. There's more than enough food. And I'd like to meet the guy. I only ever saw him the once in that bar. I'd like to see if he's really as 'hot cute' as Syd says he is. I still don't know why she didn't go home with him that night."

"Francie! My dad doesn't want to hear stuff like that," Sydney protested.

"There's lots I don't want to hear that I've heard this morning." Jack mumbled. Francie giggled again as she took the mop from Jack.

"Are you crazy? What were you thinking bringing him here?" Jack asked quietly as he made his way over to Syd's SUV. Syd told him of the plan as they walked over. "Well, actually, that's good. Low tech, but good. I'm surprised you haven't thought of it before." Syd lowered the back door of the vehicle. Vaughn had already knifed open the tape from within and popped his head out. Will laughed, "Vaughn-in-the-box, Syd?"

"Shh, where's Francie?" Sydney whispered.

"Don't worry. I left her mopping up the floor and she's still laughing her head off, no doubt," Jack answered.

"Hey, what happened in there, anyway? There's coffee and juice all over the floor. And your jeans, Dad." Syd told him. And then she thought, "JEANS?"

"Oh great, I need to change now, thanks to Tippin and his stupid jokes."

"Hey, Francie thought they were pretty funny," Will protested.

Jack responded, "You both have the maturity of twelve year olds."

"That sounds like the Jack Bristow I know," Vaughn whispered like everyone else as he climbed out of the box, "Not like this guy named Jack Bristow that I hear got a standing ovation and a cute little plastic trophy at karaoke last night." Jack glowered at Sydney,"You told him? Great, now he'll tell Weiss and next thing I know it will be the front page banner on the Company newsletter." Will and Sydney cracked up, while Vaughn just looked confused. Had Jack just made a joke, a sarcastic one, but a joke nonetheless?

Vaughn smiled slowly as he decided to go with the flow. "I can only wish that you didn't already have that security tape pulled. Big money, big money I would have paid to see that. In fact, I could have made big money showing clips to everyone at work. Who did you send? Maybe I can cut a deal," Vaughn laughed.

Will said, "Oh. I never thought of that. That's why you were on the phone last night when we got home, wasn't it?"

"Somebody's got to think of this stuff," Jack growled.

"Ouch," Vaughn groaned as he got out of the back of the SUV. "Syd, you could have been a little slower going around corners you know. I got pretty banged up back there. My right shoulder and hip are going to have huge bruises on them."

Will chuckled. "I sympathize, Mike. I've got a bruise on my hip myself that is killing me. You never realize how often you bang your hip on counters, and chairs and whatnot until you get a bruise there.," Will trailed off, thinking he really had to learn to keep his mouth shut. Here we go.

"What are you talking about Will? When did you get a bruise on your hip?" Jack asked.

"Oh brother, here he goes. Dr. Bristow," Syd whispered to Vaughn. "What do you mean?" Vaughn asked. "Will said once my father is so protective of the people he cares about, it's ridiculous."

"What are you saying, Syd?" Jack asked suspiciously. She repeated what Will had said. "That's not true, I'm not overprotective." All three snorted. "Give me an example," Jack demanded.

"Okay, how about when I fell down and scraped my leg in Kashmir and you practically knocked over Irina so that you could be the one to bandage me up? You acted like I had amputated my leg or something." "Well," Jack started.

Syd snorted, "Well, nothing. Will's right. You're overprotective. Go take a look at his bruise before you torment yourself into an early grave over it. I'll introduce Francie and Michael."

"May I ask just what name you are going to use for his last name? And how are you going to convince her not to talk about him unless there's a bugkiller around? Or hadn't you thought of that?" Jack whispered harshly as he pulled Will inside.

Francie looked up from mopping as the two came through the door. "Syd will be right in with Michael." "What did you two think of him?" she asked eagerly. "Seems nice enough," Jack said. "Hot cute, I guess," laughed Will. "We'll be right back. I need to check Will - he has a bruise and I need to change my pants," Jack called out as they went upstairs to the master bathroom.

Chapter 28: "Children show their scars like medals. Lovers use them as secrets to reveal. A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh." (Leonard Cohen)

After Jack changed his pants, he pushed Will into the bathroom and shut the door. "Let me see this bruise."

"It's nothing, Jack, really I was just trying to make conversation."

"I'll be the judge of that, let me see." Jack just stared at him and Will gave up. Like he had or would ever win a staredown with Jack Bristow anyway. Sighing, he reluctantly shoved his jeans down. Jack frowned when he saw the identical bruises on both sides of Will's front and back hips. "Will, what are these? They weren't there last night," Jack asked. Then he looked closer, "Those are my fingers, my hands, aren't they? Why didn't you say anything? I must have been squeezing you so hard. I am sorry," Jack said with his jaw clenched.

Will stared at him. "I know what you're thinking. You're excoriating yourself for hurting me. That's why I've never said anything before. My bruises always go away quickly and if I'd kept my big mouth shut this morning, then tonight like always you'd never have known." Oh shit, he should have kept his mouth shut right then.

"What do you mean, before? I've done this before? Why didn't you tell me? When have I done it?" He gently touched the bruise that corresponded to his right index finger

"Really, I don't even notice when you do it. At the time, I'm usually a little wrapped up in what another part of your body is doing, " Will laughed to try and lighten the moment.

"When have I done it before? Tell me." "I., alright. You do it, sometimes, most times, when you are getting ready to go on a mission. That's how I can usually tell when to worry. The harder you hold me the night before, the more dangerous the mission is. Then the bruises are thumb on front, fingers on back because."

"Because we are face to face," Jack said quietly, looking away, before saying flatly, "But these bruises are the reverse."

"Yes, when something happens like last night. When we are someplace and some woman hits on me or tries to flirt."

"I didn't even realize." Jack trailed off with a grimace on his face.

"The pattern? That when you are feeling possessive you feel the need to - conquer? Take me?"

"Great, there's a pattern."

"Hey, I know you like to be unpredictable. But when you are jealous or insecure or just in a certain mood, well, actually you are unpredictable, Jack," Will laughed. "After all, I never know where you are going to grab me and what I am going to be bent over - the table, the counter, the bed, remember the sofa in the apartment was the perfect height? Or remember that time we didn't even make it into the house and we did it on the hood of the car in your garage? Remember?"

Suddenly, the tension in the room became sexual. "God, yes, that was the most amazing." Jack groaned, but the sound was stopped by Will's mouth as their passion fed on each other and the memories of that incident.

Jack pulled back. Neither spoke for a moment as they struggled for control, until Jack asked quietly, "But to give you bruises?"

"Are you kidding? Do you ever hear me complaining? I love it when you lose it like that."

Jack's head jerked up, "Do you do it on purpose? Provoke me?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe I like knowing that I can access this primitive need you have to make me yours."

"What are you talking about?" Jack asked defensively.

Will responded, "Don't you think you are trying to say, 'Hands off, he's mine'? Subconsciously? And that's why I don't get upset about it. After Irina, you're afraid that you can't hold onto the people you love." He waited for Jack to explode, that remark was cutting a little too close to the bone. But Jack was looking at the bruises and touching each one carefully with the same finger that had inflicted the mark, as if he could wipe the marks away with a touch. He said nothing. Will knew he must be thinking about his last statement. It was a measure of Jack's changes that he had not responded defensively and aggressively.

Will smiled softly as he watched him. "You know, there are five bruises. I guess I am a sentimental fool, because one time I was looking at them, thinking about how I see them when you are driven to the edge with fear or worry or sheer possessiveness and how each time I think, this will be the time, this time his feelings will override his fear of telling me, of giving me what he thinks is power over him. This will be the time he tells me, the time he says it, this time when I say 'I love you', he'll say it back. And it hasn't happened yet. But I look at those four bruises on the one side, and I think they mean what I want them to mean, what I want you to say, 'Will, I love you." And the thumb print on the other side is like your signature, 'Jack'"

Jack swallowed hard and looked up slowly. "I am ashamed."

"Don't be. I know you never mean, in any way, to hurt me. And really, it doesn't hurt. Christ, Jack you are so protective of those you love, you'd never deliberately hurt me."

"I wish, I just..."

"I know, you're not ready yet. I understand and I'm willing to wait for as long as it takes. But, if you want to mark your territory, as it were--" Will said to try again and lighten the mood, after all they had to go back out there and make nice with Francie, Syd and Jack's future son-in-law. Jack scowled and interrupted, "That is so crude."

"Well, isn't that we all do, in every culture? Isn't that what wedding rings are about, for example, saying this person is off limits? So, we could. or Vaughn has a tattoo, I could get one," Will said teasingly, knowing Jack would hate the idea.

"Absolutely not. Those things are so trashy."

"Syd probably likes it."

"Well, she wouldn't if she knew it was from a former girlfriend."

"Former girlfriend? How do you know that? Forget it, why do I ask?"

"No, I think not. But let me think about this. You've given me a lot to think about. I don't want to hurt you again."

"That's ridiculous. You just get carried away and I like it," Will said emphatically.

"It's not ridiculous to me, Will."

"Why, because you have to have control over yourself all the time? I know that's important to you, but I love it when you lose that control."

"I see."

"That's why I don't really notice it as it happens. Like I said, I've got other things on my mind." They shared a smile as Will snapped his jeans closed.

Bang, bang on the door. Syd yelled, laughing, "Dad, are you wrapping him up like the Michelin tire man or what? Come on, already. Francie and I have the food all served up."

Chapter 29: "Friends are as companions on a journey, who ought to aid each other to persevere in the road to a happier life." (Pythagoras)

Vaughn's forehead wrinkled, approximately 6 wrinkles this time, as he saw the huge smiles on Will and Jack's faces as they came downstairs, followed by Syd. What in the world--? "Hey," Francie called out, "What were you two doing in there, anyway?"

"Oh, I had a bruise and you know Jack."

"Oh yeah. Dr. Bristow in action," Francie said sarcastically. Syd giggled, "See Dad - that's exactly what I said!"

Francie began to reminisce, "Syd, remember that time you fell out of the tree at my house and it was your nanny's day off, so my mom called your dad? Remember he drove into the yard so fast he almost hit my parents' car and plowed right through my mom's roses?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that! Remember how he was yelling at your mom for not watching us better?" Everyone laughed at the look of consternation on Jack's face.

"And then my mom was telling him all about these superhero escapades you would rig up in our back yard or yours, when your nanny was taking a nap. I can still see how white his face was when my mom was talking about the time you rigged up that wire between the garage and the house and proceeded to---."

Jack covered his face with his hands, "Stop it. I can't relive it. She's was 7 years old at the time. I still don't know how you survived your own childhood, Syd, really I don't. And why is it I let you all come over here to harass me anyway? Remind me, someone."

To Vaughn's complete and utter astonishment, Will, who had been walking behind Jack, reached over and squeezed Bristow's shoulders with both hands, saying, "Oh, come on, Bristow. You love it." Had someone just touched Jack Bristow and lived to tell the tale? Had someone just used the word, 'love' in connection with, in front of Jack Bristow? He looked around and saw that he was the only one surprised. Syd was laughing too and gave her father a pat as she got up to get more coffee. Syd was patting her father? What in the world was going on here? Had he stepped into an alternate universe?

As Syd turned away she wondered if her risky behavior as a kid may have played some small part in Jack's decision to enroll her in his Project Christmas. If you knew your child's mother was really an adept spy and that child was engaging in death-defying physical acts while pretending to be a superhero.... She'd think about it later. This was a prime opportunity to find out more about Vaughn. "So Michael, were you as stupid as I was as a kid? Did you give your mother white hair or were you a good boy?"

Chapter 30: "You can observe a lot just by watching." (Yogi Berra)

Later that day, Vaughn called from his box, "So, Syd, that was interesting. Your father was really different, today."

"Everyone keeps saying that, that he's different lately."

"Any ideas as to why?"

"I'm not really sure. I think, like I said before it has partly to do with closure with Irina. I think maybe he's healing. And I know it has something to do with Will. I still can't believe that my dad had Will move into the house. He's always hoarded his privacy before. He never really said why the change. But it seems to make him happy for some reason."

In his box, Vaughn rolled his eyes. He had an idea or two. "Well, I was surprised at how your dad lets Will get away with that touchy-feely business of his." Hint, hint.

"Yeah, Will's whole family is like that. Originally, it would really bother my dad. But now he just ignores it like the rest of us. And anyway, everyone can use a hug now and then." Talk about ignoring something, Vaughn thought. Not that Jack gave anything away, he would always be circumspect - too many years as a double agent had stamped caution and discretion into his behavior. It was Will that was obvious in his near-adoration of the older man, even though he teased him mercilessly on his foibles and hang- ups. The giveaway was the fact that Jack didn't kill Will for that hug and the jokes, that he let Syd and Francie tease him, too. And where had that sense of humor come from? He had them all in stitches several times with his dry comments, the kind you had to think about for a minute. He hadn't ever suspected Jack had a sense of humor!

"Your dad seems to lose twenty years when he's relaxing like that."

"Yeah, that's what I was talking about - what you called the mask? He still has it at work, but at home it's like he's learning how to relax and just, well, live again."

"And Will, is it my imagination, or is he different too?"

"You think so too? Francie was saying that the other day. That those years my father seems to be losing seem to be going to Will, that he's not the goof he used to be. Well, he's still kind of goofy, but.."

"Grown up? Finally?"

"Yeah. Are we almost there? This is uncomfortable."

"Poor baby. Just a few more minutes. Or I could drive faster and really zip around those corners?" "No thanks!"

Later that night, Jack sat Will sat down to watch the surveillance tape. "Hey, this part is good. You and Francie could go on tour." "Shut up, already." The tape continued as Will laughed at Jack's performance. Jack cringed. He needed more practice time if he were going to do that idiocy again. Suddenly, Will asked, "Who's that?" "That guy watching us?" "Yeah." "That's the one. Good job, Will. He's really watching Francie. Now he's taking pictures - see that ring on his hand? That's a camera. Bingo."

"Did you call Devlin?"

"Yes at 2am. I told him the bait was set and that I had taken all necessary precautions. Okay, let's rewind and go to bed. I was up in the middle of the night while you were sleeping. I'm beat. I'll put the tape away."

Chapter 31: "Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength; loving someone deeply gives you courage." (Lao-Tzu)

Jack visited India beginning the next day. Returning ten days later, he came home late one evening and found Will working in the study, engrossed in a book. He carefully placed three tiny pouches on the desk where Will was working. Some time ago, after Will had moved his computer into Jack's office without asking and made a complete disaster out of the room, Jack had asked Will why he didn't just work upstairs in "his" room. Will had replied, in the tone of voice one used when talking to a total idiot, "Because I'd rather be close to you and your stuff." Jack had just stared at him in disbelief at his openness, while Will smiled and shook his head. Gazing fondly now at Will's blond head bent over his work, Jack mused that openness would not be a good quality in a field agent, unless one knew how to use it properly. But in a friend, a lover....He had long since come to realize that Will's openness was his strength. Jack knew, although he'd never admit it, that he relied, depended upon that strength, if only to compensate for his own inadequacies in that regard. Oh well, he was learning to live with a little mess. And every once in a while, he'd have a fit and Will would clean up. It all worked out.

Speaking softly, he said, "Will." The younger man jumped and then laughed, "I didn't even hear you come in." Rolling his eyes, Jack said, "I know. That's why I beefed up the security so much when you moved in." Will's eyes fell on the pouches. Jack opened two of the pouches and showed the contents to Will, but did not take them out. Both men gave a last glance to the pouches as Jack placed them in the safe. The last pouch, he opened and from it removed a ring. It was heavy, of white gold and had a wide band with a wider, square signet-style front to it. "Let me explain to you the meaning of the metalwork on this ring. And the inscription inside. Which finger would you like to wear it on?" Will swallowed hard as he met Jack's' eyes. He knew what this moment meant. There was no turning back now, the commitment was made, the die was cast.

Chapter 32: "We are all what we pretend to be, but, we had better be very careful what we pretend." (Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.)

Two days later, Will was hanging out with Syd and Francie. "So, Francie, anything interesting at the restaurant lately?" Will asked.

"Did I tell you guys I had to fire a new waiter for trying to steal from my purse, my tote?"

"No! What happened?" Syd asked.

"I had this new guy for two days. Did a pretty good job. But then today I was in the dining room talking to a supplier and realized I needed my day planner. So I went into the closet that I call my office and lo and behold, there was the new guy with his hand in my purse!"

"Did you call the cops?" Will asked casually.

"Nah, it's more trouble than it's worth."

"Give me his name and Social Security number and I'll run a check on him. You should do that with all your employees, Francie, I still have connections. You don't want to hire some felon."

"You mean like you, Will?"

"Ha, Ha. Actually, now that I think about it - remember I left my checkbook in your tote the other day? Can I look for it?"

"Sure, the tote is on the counter, right there." Will rummaged around in the tote and pulled out his checkbook, "What a mess in here. And you make fun of my closest. If Jack could see the inside of this tote, there would be some reorganization in YOUR future. Where is it? Ah, voila!" and laid the checkbook on the counter.

Suddenly, Francie exclaimed and grabbed Will's left hand, "Where did you get this ring? It's beautiful, so exotic!"

"It looks like Indian metalwork to me," Syd said, also holding his hand for a better view.

Will nodded, "Good eye, Syd. Your dad got it for me on this last trip to India. I was complaining how you two are always going to these exotic places and I never see any souvenirs."

"What are you, three years old?" Syd asked, putting his hand down and rolling her eyes. Francie protested, "Hey, I wouldn't mind if you brought me home a tshirt that said, 'My friend went to London or Calcutta or Taipei and all I got was this lousy tshirt.'!"

Syd met Will's eyes, "Believe me, Francie, a lousy tshirt is all you'd ever want from Taipei. I don't have fond memories of that place."

"Whatever. But hey - how about that idea? You could create a tshirt collection for me. Like Jack's tie collection. It'd be easy. Just buy them in the airport, if you ran out of time on that slave schedule the bank keeps you on. I'd have my own Sydney Bristow travelogue in my closet." Syd laughed, "Okay, I'll think about it. I never knew you two wanted to live vicariously."

Syd shook her head and Will's hand caught her eye. "I can't believe we didn't notice that ring the minute you came in. Will, let me see it again." "Why?"

"Just let me see it. Hmm. That's what I thought. This ring is some expensive 'souvenir', let me tell you. Chasework, metalwork of this quality - that's custom work on this band. And what's the gold weight? Take it off, let me see."

"No. I don't need to take it off. It's 22 karat. Jack told me when he was showing me the inscr---" Syd interrupted, "Look, there are 'W's all over it if you look carefully. Wow. Wow. It's a work of art, really. Just what did you do for my dad to net this?" Francie choked.

Syd looked over at her, "Francie, honestly, I think you need to see a doctor about this problem with choking you've been having."

"No, really, Syd, I'm fine," Francie protested and then turned to Will, "Hey, maybe I should be asking Jack for souvenirs instead of you. That ring is a lot more than some tshirt."

"No kidding," Syd noted. "But, Will, that ring is awfully thick, especially with those ridges from the metalwork. Doesn't it irritate your fingers on either side? I'm sure my dad wouldn't want you to wear something uncomfortable."

"No, it's fine. I got used to it pretty quickly." She stared at it. "What?" Will asked.

"Why are you wearing it on your left ring finger, anyway?" Francie and Will exchanged a quick look, had the moment finally arrived? Syd continued, "Women will think you're married. Aren't you looking for someone? Don't you want to date? Wait a minute, Francie said a while back that you had been dating? So, spill, what's going on with your love life." Francie and Will stared at her. She was just amazingly obtuse. "What? What am I missing? Are you two going out or something and I've been missing it?" Both laughed loudly.

Francie gasped, "Yeah, right. Forget about us. What about you?" Will added, "Yeah. Been seeing Michael at work lately?" As Jack always said, the best defense was a good offense. Fielding that question would keep her brain busy for a while. Although, honestly, this whole game with Syd was getting more amusing by the moment. What did he and Jack have to do, take out a notice in the paper?

Syd got up to go to the refrigerator. Will picked up Francie's tote and stowed it in the front closet. "Jack's neatnik qualities starting to rub off on you?" Francie teased.

"Hardly," Will said as he walked back over.

"Wait a minute," Francie whispered to Will. "Were you about to say something about an inscription?"

"Yeah. It's a little code thing, it wouldn't mean anything to anyone else." "Code thing?" "Like a private joke. Only it's not-" "A joke. Right. It's between the two of you. Let me guess, Jack can't say yet, 'I love you,' so he has some kind of little code?" Will's jaw dropped. "You can tell Jack I said that. He thinks I am so oblivious. Oops, here comes the queen of denial. So, Will, you want to run my employees' names for convictions for theft, or what?"

Later that night, Jack looked up as Will walked in. "So, did the girls notice your ring?"

Will smiled, "You bet. Syd knew right away that you'd had it made in India. She was concerned that it was too thick."

"Speaking of thick, did she.?"

"No, amazing, isn't it, for someone's whose job is noticing details?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "And you, did you get your checkbook out of Francie's tote?"

"Sure, no problem. She said she'd had to fire a waiter for rifling through her purse. Gave me his name and Social Security number to check up on him - do you think he'd be stupid enough to give real info?" Jack cocked his head at him. "Yeah, I know you keep telling me.Anyway, everything was just as you expected." Will laughed, remembering, "Although you really need to talk to Francie about the mess in her tote. If you think my closet is bad..."

Chapter 33: "Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without, but know we cannot live within." (James Baldwin) (The original version of this chapter was NC-17, which is at the Cover Me site.)

"Hey, Will, it's Jack. Are you home or still at work?"

"I got home about five minutes ago."

"Can you do me a favor and have a drink ready when I come in the door?"

"When you come in the door? What kind of day has it been?"

"Endless. Absolutely endless. I spent the entire day on the computer, using email. But productive. After almost a year on this project, the end is in sight."

"You're kidding. That's great. Maybe you need to take a walk or something and unwind when you get home."

"Not tonight with the fitness and stress lecture, please. I just want to collapse."

"Sure. See you when?" "In about 20 minutes." Good, that would give Will time to set up.

As Jack walked in, Will asked, "So everything is.?"

"Everything's in place." Jack hung up his coat as if it weighed several tons and in a way, it did. Eyeing him with concern, Will asked, "Are you okay?" Jack shrugged his shoulders, but his eyes remained anxious. "My people are in place, the electronics are in place, the wheels are in motion."

Will said, "I know you'll worry yourself needlessly, I'm sure you set up everything. and checked it over a million times, every detail, right?"

"Of course. Now I just have to wait."

"And worry. But you've never thought there was any real danger."

"No, it's not going to play out that way."

"You've covered every angle. I'm not concerned."

"Are you sure?" Jack asked with a crease between his brows.

"Yes, even though I can't take care of myself, right?" Will joked.

"Are you still ticked off about that comment?"

"No, I just like to tease you with it. Now, come upstairs into the bedroom," Will urged.

"Why?" Jack asked. Will laughed, "Always so suspicious. Just come with me."

"What is all this?" Jack asked when he walked in the door of their room. The bed had been turned down and a large, fluffy bath sheet laid on the sheets. Will had a stack of Jack's favorite albums in the cd player and a glass of whiskey, with the bottle next to it on the nightstand. There was one small light in one corner and two candles, Francie's suggestion. "Mmm, I like that scent, what is it?" Jack asked.

"Sandalwood. I'm glad - I didn't know if you'd like it or if you'd think it was too much."

"What's not to like?" Jack shrugged, "But what's all this about?"

"I want to give you another way to relax, a massage."

"I don't know the last time I had a massage."

"I can't imagine that you've had one in years, decades. After all, letting someone else use touch to massage away stress and tension would put you, in a way, under someone else's control, wouldn't it?"

Jack's head jerked toward Will. "Are these comments supposed to make me feel less stress, Tippin?"

"No, they are supposed to make you defensive enough to allow me to do it, Bristow."

Jack smiled crookedly. "Okay, you got me. What do you want me to do?"

"First, have a drink, all of it, while I get the massage oil from the bathroom where I've got it warming."

"How did you get to know about all this, anyway?"

"Last month when you were away for that week, I took a short massage class with Francie to fill up my spare time in the evenings. I didn't tell you, before you ask, because I wanted to surprise you. I've just been waiting for an opportunity."

"Oh. Well, do you want me to take off all my clothes or--?"

Will smiled. He was surprised that Jack had agreed so readily. Had what happened today made him so receptive? Maybe this wouldn't be as difficult as he had thought. "No, just wait for a second and I'll be right back", Will told Jack. When he came back in the room, he was carrying a small ceramic bowl of hot water in which rested a small plastic bottle of oil.

"Before you set down that bowl," Jack began.

"I know, I brought a washcloth in to put under the bowl on the nightstand so we don't get a ring," Will laughed.

"Speaking of rings?" Jack asked with a pointed look at Will's left hand. "Don't worry, after four months of being responsible for it, I do know where it is at all times. It's on the nightstand. I can't wear it while I give a massage. You stop worrying and just relax. Now stand up and let me undress you." "I can undress myself." "No. I want you to just let me do this all for you. I know you'll feel awkward at first, but let me." Reluctantly Jack stood; Will had expected the reluctance. Jack would feel anxiety at letting someone else take care of him because that implied need and therefore vulnerability.

"I have taken off your clothes before, after all, Jack," Will teased.

"I know, but that's different," Jack protested as Will slowly unbuttoned, unzipped and smoothed away his clothes. "Will you feel better if I take off my clothes too?" Will asked with a smile. Jack smiled in return, "Well, that always makes me feel better Tippin." Swiftly, Will removed his own clothes and then took a long drink from Jack's glass.

Refilling the glass, he handed it back to Jack, "Here, you look like you could use it. It must have been pretty bad at work today. Did you talk to Syd about it?"

"Yes, 'mother'. Some of it, anyway. I did like you've been telling me and talked to Syd about problems so I don't have to just internalize everything. Most of it, you know I couldn't tell her." Will had started to laugh at the "mother" comment.

"Well, Jack, sometimes even you need to be taken care of, you know." "Is that what all this is about?" "Partially. Now lie face down for me on the towel."

As Will rubbed the oil into his hands, a very light scent of sandalwood teased his senses. "I hope you like the scent, it matches the candles and I didn't see you liking one of the berry blends," Will teased as he began smoothing his hands over the tense, corded muscles of Jack's back and was gratified to hear him chuckle. Then more gratified when the chuckles turned into moans and groans of pleasure. Feeling the tightness in Jack's shoulders, Will asked, " How long did you spend on the computer today hacking into email servers, anyway?" "About 9 hours." "Then this is good timing. Just relax." Will poured everything into the massage, determined that when he was done Jack would be utterly soporific with tactile pleasure and relaxation, free of stress if even for just a few moments in time.

"Now, turn over, "Will urged him. "Do I have to? I don't feel like I have any bones," Jack protested. "Good, that means I'm doing this properly. Turn over." "Mmmm", Jack said, as with eyes closed he flipped over slowly. Completely relaxed, his arms over his head, his eyes closed and with a small smile on his face, he was the picture of contentment. Will looked at him in astonishment, he had actually achieved his goal. "I don't think I've ever seen you like this before," he said as he poured a little more oil on his palms.

"Well, you poured enough whiskey in me to begin with and I have to say that if you ever need another career, you could be a masseuse."

"Like you would want me to touch other people like this, Jack?" With his eyes still closed, Jack smiled, "Well, you're right about that. I am somewhat, ahem, possessive. Your talents, you, are all mine." In the process of smoothing his palms down Jack's biceps, Will stopped. "Does that mean you're all mine too?"

"Of course. C'mon."

"Seriously?"

Jack burst out laughing and opened his eyes. "Tippin, the way you say 'seriously?' will always make my day. That's what I should have done today in the midst of all that crap, just call you up and give you some signal and you could say 'seriously?' just like that. I swear, the last word I want to hear before I die is you saying 'seriously?'"

Meeting the warm look in Jack's eyes with his own, Will responded, "And the last words I want to hear would be 'you're all mine.'" Pressing Jack's arms into the mattress, Will leaned down and gently kissed Jack. "

It wouldn't be, 'I love you'?" Jack asked when Will had lifted his head.

"What, what did you say?"

"I love you."

"You said it. I don't believe it," Will said with a huge smile. "Finally." Jack smiled sleepily and lifted his head to Will's lips. Will realized that Jack must have finally reached some zone in which he felt comfortable expressing his feelings. Amazing. Today's work was a breakthrough in more ways than one? Or perhaps, this touching, with no purpose behind it other than to provide pleasure with no goal and no end in sight, had helped him reach it. Why though? Why had Jack finally accepted being ministered to, rather than always feeling the need to take care, protect, take charge?

Happily, Will resumed massaging Jack, this time it was his front that drew all the attention. Slowly, slowly, Will began to use the oiled strokes to arouse his partner. After all this time, he knew what Jack liked. The curve of the bicep, the inner curve of the neck, the nipples, the inner slant of the hips, all received smooth stroking, while he studiously avoided Jack's rising cock and occasionally gave Jack light, licking, teasing kisses on his mouth. He was still astonished that Jack was letting him have his way like this. Never before had he ever had one moment of passivity. When finally Jack reached his arms up to put them around Will, Will took them away and Jack's eyes flew open. "What are you doing?"

"No, I want you just to lie there. Just lie there and let me do this."

"Why? What's going on?"

"For once in your life, I just want you to lie there and let someone else do all the work, let someone else give to you while you just take." He instantly felt Jack's muscles tense. "Jack, I mean it." Looking at Will's intent face, Jack said slowly, "This means a lot to you, doesn't it?"

"Yes. I really want to do this for you. And," he smiled impishly while reaching under the pillow and extracting two scarves, "If you don't agree, I'll just have to tie you down." They both knew that the scarves would never hold anyone who didn't want to be held, but with a start Will realized that the prospect of being tied had just caused Jack's cock to leap. Looking down, Will smiled and said, "So, some part of you likes the idea of losing all responsibility, giving all the control over to me." Although Will could still feel some tension in Jack's body, there was no anxiety in his eyes. "You're not worried that I'll do it, are you?" he asked ruefully.

"Of course not, I know you'd never do anything I didn't want to you do."

"You're right." Laughing, Will threw the scarves aside and reached for the glass. "Here have another drink. Finish it up."

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" Jack asked as Will reached for the oil again.

Will looked at his partner. It had taken a while, but resuming the massage had finally brought Jack back to that place of total relaxation and abandonment. Once again, his arms lay slack above his head, while his long body sprawled on the bed. He couldn't believe that the massage, the whiskey and the music had done it all. There was something he was missing. What key had he inadvertently used that had allowed Jack to be like this, he wondered as he reached for a pillow and extra towel he had previously laid on the bottom of the bed. He didn't want to ruin Jack's expensive sheets, he thought with a smile, as he resumed touching him. As Jack automatically adjusted and moved his body in response to every touch, Will suddenly realized something: those expensively-finished Egyptian cotton sheets, the music, those smooth wine vintages, the hand-tailored shirts, the bathroom that was so sybaritic that Francie had gasped and blushed the first time she had seen it, those occasional days when Jack used his body and his hands and sometimes those scarves to ensure that they never left the bedroom.

And then there was Jack's mouth. That wickedly skilled mouth that he employed so effectively. Jack could and would kiss endlessly, inventively, erotically, stopping only when Will begged him to do so before he nearly exploded just from the kissing alone. The way Jack bit his lover's lower lip alone really should be outlawed, he mused. While they were 'courting,' he had walked around in a sensual haze half the time just due to thinking about what Jack could do with his lips, his tongue, and teeth. He had never experienced anything like it before. He had never felt physically swept away before he began loving Jack. The truth, he realized with a deep note of recognition of a critical fact, was that Jack was a deeply-sensual person. A deeply-sensual person who had repressed most of that part of himself, certainly the sexual aspect of it, for years. He thought suddenly of that first time he had touched Jack's shoulder, so long ago. When he had done so in recompense for the thoughtless comment about Jack's marriage, to comfort him and the way Jack had started at his touch, how he had wondered at the time who comforted Jack, who touched Jack? That had really been, for him, the beginning of his awareness of Jack. He remembered too, that Jack had said once he felt he lost control of his feelings the day Will had touched his leg, unconscious though it had been, as a lover would have. Touch, that was it. He watched his hands endlessly stroking everywhere he could reach, with no goal other than giving just pure tactile pleasure, He knew now, that by touching Jack in this way, he had given Jack a gift and found the key. By tapping into Jack's sensuality, he had given him the gift of the freedom to be vulnerable.

His attention snagged again by the curve of Jack's lower lip, he was surprised to hear Jack say, "You're quiet. What are you thinking about?" Without thinking, he replied, "Your mouth." Jack's eyes were half-opened as he teasingly ran his tongue along his lower lip. As always, Will felt his abdomen clench when Jack did that. He remembered the day when Syd had Vaughn here for the brunch. Jack had whispered to him that he would have payback for that rhythm remark. All morning he had been waiting, waiting, what would Jack do? Finally, when it was just the two of them in the kitchen and Will's hands had been carrying an empty tray to the sink, Jack had looked over at him and caught his eye. Will had stopped in his tracks at the heat in his gaze. Jack had slowly licked his lower lip so sensuously that Will had dropped the tray. "Are you remembering the tray incident?" Jack asked teasingly. "Don't get smug, Bristow." "Oh no?" "No, I think I've uncovered your weaknesses too. You're putty in my hands tonight." "Not exactly, Tippin," Jack said with a smile and a downward glance towards where Will's hands were slowly stroking him.

Will realized that while he had been lost in his thoughts and contemplation of Jack's mouth, his hands had been slowly, languidly, urging Jack into readiness. "Now who looks smug?" Jack asked as he stretched his arms languidly above his head. "Keep your arms there," Will told him as he began moving his hands once again all over Jack's body.

"Mmm, I take it we're in no hurry," Jack commented.

"None at all," Will responded, "Why hurry when you are loving this so much?"

"What about you?"

"Are you kidding?" Will asked. "Do you know how it makes me feel to see you this way?" "What way?"

"Completely and utterly relaxed. Totally involved in the moment. Open, and, " he paused, somewhat nervously, "vulnerable?" To his astonishment, Jack's suddenly open eyes were not guarded. With some trepidation he continued, "Do you know how thrilled I am that I found the key? That you love this kind of touching?"

"That's not quite it, Will."

"It's not?" Will asked in confusion.

"No, it's that it's YOU doing the touching." They shared a smile and a moment of total connection.

"Well, if that's the case, just close your eyes again and let me get back to it." Leaning down, Will captured that mouth he both loved and craved with his own and gradually increased the passion in the kiss until both men were beginning to pant. Breaking it off, he rested his forehead against Jack's for a moment, and then reoiled his fingertips. Will wondered, was he going too far? Francie had warned him not to push Jack too hard, that this whole relationship was a huge step for him in so many ways. Was he asking for too much, too much honesty? But, Will was afraid that time was not on their side. Every day had so many dangers and tomorrow brought added dangers. If not now, when?

He began inching his way back down Jack's body with his mouth and fingers, interspersing both so that Jack would have trouble telling the difference. Will was himself startled when Jack started up, "Will, no!" Pressing back on Jack's hip, he raised his head and moved up Jack's body. "Jack. No. Lie back down."

"No, I can't let you."

"There's no'letting' me tonight, Jack. I want to do this. I will do this."

Seeing Jack's mouth tighten, Will continued stroking him with one hand to distract him while saying softly, "I figured it out, finally."

"What?" Jack said with an obvious attempt to concentrate.

"Why you never wanted me to use my mouth. At first I thought it was just a control issue."

"It is. Fine. I want to be the one in control."

"That's not all of it, though, is it?" When Jack just tightened his lips, Will knew he was on the right track. "The larger issue is that streak of protectiveness in you that runs about a mile deep. You're worried that if I use my mouth, that I'll be comparing this to Taipei." The words fell like lead onto the bed. Wisely, Will stopped touching Jack for a moment and used his hands to frame Jack's face. Giving the rigid mouth a gentle kiss, Will pulled back and said, "I'm right. And that's why, you had it all planned out, didn't you? The strategy. You always have one. The first time we were together you made sure some lights were on and I could see YOU and you made sure I was standing, rather than sitting. And you, the way you used your mouth, that was a gift, that wasn't taking. You did all that to make it as different as possible, so I wouldn't be afraid. Because even then, you loved me."

When Jack just stared at him in shock, Will smiled happily. "I've rendered you speechless. But what you need to know, what I should have told you that night, was - remember that time you offered to reset my memories of Taipei for me? - was that the way you were touching me, the fact that you loved me -- you did reset my memories. What happened on that plane - it no longer has any power over me and in fact, from the moment I first told you about it, it lost its hold on me. And then that night? Aside from that fleeting, liberating thought? Taipei is gone, Jack, it has nothing to do with us. Nothing unless we let it. So, let me do what I want tonight."

For long moments the two men stared at each other. Finally, he saw Jack relax and accept what he had told him. "I still don't know about the control issue, though," Jack said with a smile. "Am I going to regret telling you I love you, giving you that.."

"Power, is that what you were going to say?" Will asked.

"We're really being honest tonight, aren't we? You know how I feel about that," Jack said softly, half teasing, half serious.

"I've never regretted being honest with you, being the one to speak first, let me remind you, at your little intervention," Will responded, "Never regretted anything that's happened with you and I never will."

"Even with everything that has or might happen?"

"Even so. Now, just lie there and ." Will trailed off as he applied his lips to his lover's. Jack reached up and held Will's head in place with both hands as he used his lips and tongue to take some control back by driving Will crazy. Lifting up slightly at one point, Will murmured, "God, I love your mouth, Jack" and bit Jack's lower lip before the older man took over again. Finally, Will felt slightly dizzy and lifted his head. "Now, just lie back. Trust me enough to give up your control. Trust me." They stared at each other for a moment and Will felt his breath catch when Jack stretched his arms out back over his head.

"Oh, God," Jack whispered as he pulled Will back up his body so that they were lying face to face. Will kissed Jack's neck and murmured, "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" and smiled when he felt, more than heard, Jack's chuckle. Levering himself up on his right elbow so that he was leaning over Jack's body, he said quietly, "Jack, look at me." When Jack's lambent gray gaze met his, he continued, "You know, we're not done yet." Making Will's breath stop with a sexy grin, Jack responded, "Um, I think I know that, I think I can feel that," and reached his own hand down to fondle Will.

"No, stop for a minute. Look at me. I want you to do something else."

"What's left?"

With his left hand, Will cupped Jack's cheek. Softly, softly he said, "Surrender. That's what's left. Surrender yourself to me." He felt Jack's jaw tighten, as he asked with great and customary caution, "What do you mean?"

"I surrendered everything to you that first night - that night I confessed my feelings to you, here in this house, during that little intervention. You know that. And then later, wasn't I the one to pursue you? The one to tell you how I felt, force you to talk about those horrible things we mortals call emotions. And you know, you've always held something, the tiniest something back, even just now, you had to retain some measure of control.You held back."

Jack interrupted, "Not sexually, you can't say that after what just happened."

"No, I mean emotionally. Even now, there's a little something left. What we have, it can't be complete until we both give it all. Invite me. Ask me. I want it all."

Staring into Will's eyes, Jack seemed to be searching for something. "What are you looking for, Jack? What do you see?" Will asked quietly. There was a long pause while he waited, waited.

Finally, Jack said, "I see you. Your eyes are so open, I can see all of you right there." He paused again for a long moment before continuing, "Will, did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are? That sounds so..trite, but it's true. And how I love your neck, especially the back of it, and your shoulders and..."

Anyone else might have thought that Jack was trying to distract him, Will thought, but those words caused him to melt inside because he knew what they meant. As Jack's hands lavished caresses on the areas he was praising, Will knew that those words were more than mere compliments from one lover to another. He was no fool, he knew which parts of his body Jack loved. He hadn't needed those words in order to have that information. It was the act of verbalization that was critical because Jack knew, knew how words and truth equaled power.

A surge of tenderness and lust swept over him and he leaned over to stop Jack's words with his mouth. "I love you. And you are mine."

"Yes," Jack took a deep breath and opened his legs a little wider. "Yes, you are mine and I am yours. Fill me."

"That was intense," Jack said quietly as he caught his breath. "I never-" Will began. "I never knew..." he trailed off, before Jack agreed, "I didn't either. I understand now what you were talking about when you said the word 'complete' and I--," Jack's whisper broke off. Lying there quietly next to his lover, Will knew Jack was no doubt embarrassed at the display of emotion this night. Waiting a moment, Will said quietly and sincerely, "Thank you." Jack stared at him for a long moment before asking, "For...?"

Will grinned, "Good try, Bristow. But you're not going to get me to fill in the blanks for you."

Jack's mouth quirked. "You know too much about my interrogation style, don't you?"

"Having been on the receiving end of it more times than I care to think? Yeah. But, this time, you need to fill in the blanks for yourself. Why do you think I was thanking you?"

Jack smirked, "For being the bottom this time?"

Will burst out laughing. "Good try. Safe, but not too safe, is that what you were thinking - admitting the control issue again?" He watched Jack's face twist in consternation and laughed. Laughed happily because he could not really believe how Jack was letting his unguarded emotions show. "Not that I didn't appreciate your sacrifice," he said with sarcasm. "And I hope you'll let me have the privilege a little more often now than in the past. Maybe once a month and on my birthday?" he said teasingly.

Jack gave a self-deprecatory smile, "Or national holidays?"

"Maybe we can continue negotiating?"

"You can always try," Jack said smugly.

"Yes I can. As long as I keep the massage oil well stocked, choose the right music and amount of lighting, keep you supplied with whiskey and..more fully investigate the possibilities of that decadent shower bath," he said as he motioned with his head toward the direction of the master bathroom and watched Jack's eyes darken. "Hmm, I see I may have found another weakness," and kissed Jack again. "Don't worry, it's not like I don't know that tomorrow I'll be bent over the table again. Or on my back somewhere."

"Do you have any objections to that?"

"Do I ever?"

"And, what's this about tomorrow - are you trying to insult me?" Jack asked with a grin.

"Well, old man," Will began with a grin of his own before Jack rolled him over and beneath him. Suddenly Will's stomach rumbled and they both broke into laughter. "You're saved, grasshopper, let's clean up and have dinner.

In the shower, Jack had a faraway look. Will said, "It's my turn to ask, what are you thinking?"

"Two things, or maybe one. We never finished talking about for what you were thanking me before."

"No, we didn't. What are you thinking?"

"It's interesting, isn't it, that I use my body to-"

"You use your body to encourage my surrender?"

"Yes. The physical leading to the emotional?" "Whereas I -", Will began and Jack completed the thought, "You used the emotional to lead to the physical. It's all just a circle isn't it? To obtain the same thing?"

Will thought for a moment and then said softly, "Freedom? Is that what we obtained?"

"Freedom," Jack said thoughtfully.

"And tonight - you were ready?" Will asked.

"And that's what you were thanking me for? It's the trust, isn't it?"

"Yes, trust is, in the end, everything."

"I always did trust you, Will, always."

"I know you did, you trusted me with your heart, with your body and probably, if you had to, your life. But you didn't trust anyone, til tonight, with your vulnerability. And somehow, tonight, that massage, that touching."

"Truthfully, it was that, and you forcing the issue, as usual," Jack pointed out wryly. Then finished by saying, "I think I had just reached a critical point in everything that's going on and in my own mind, realizing that there was no reason to hold back anymore, that life is too short, it was time to complete the circle."

"It was time."

"Yes, it's time. It's always the timing."

Chapter 34: "An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; a wild beast may wound your body, but an evil friend will wound your mind." (Buddha)

"Sloane invited me to a private lunch today, Dad. Any ideas why?" Syd asked her father. Jack looked up at Sydney poised over his desk, his eyes guarded. Was there a slight hesitation, before he said, "No. But keep in mind that that one of Arvin's common motives in seeing you alone has always been to drive a wedge between the two of us." "You're right. I'll keep that in mind," Syd promised as she watched her father's eyes grow even more troubled.

Sydney attempted to remember her promise as her mind goggled at what Sloane had just asked her. "What do I think of my father's relationship with my friend, Will Tippin? I don't understand what you mean by that, why you stressed the word 'relationship' that way," she said cautiously.

"Sydney, Sydney, don't tell me I'm the one to break the news to you? I only wanted to be a shoulder for you to lean on, if you needed it and I here I have to tell you.I'm sorry, I thought you knew or at least had an idea why your father has been so different lately."

"I still don't know what you mean," she said stubbornly. If Sloane was saying he was sorry about something, that meant she needed to be on her toes and make sure she gave away nothing.

"Take a deep breath for me. Good. Now, stay calm. But your father and Tippin have been lovers, for want of a better word, for months now."

"No, no. Neither of them are gay, first of all. That's ridiculous, the whole idea is ridiculous."

"Is it? Think about it. Hasn't your father seemed different, more relaxed? Happy, even? Since when is Jack Bristow like that? I haven't seen him like that since before your mother betrayed him. Think, Sydney. He and Tippin have been living together for how long, after all, six months?"

"Francie said," she murmured to herself." "Francie - your roommate - said what?" Careful, Syd, this was clearly a fishing expedition right now. "She was trying to tell me something. But it's not true. They are really good friends, best friends, but that's why Dad is happier -- he has someone to hang out with, relax with - that's all. You're wrong."

"I was afraid you'd refuse to believe the truth. I hesitate to do this" (yeah, right, she thought), "but here's proof." He handed over a manila envelope, labeled "Bristow-Tippin surveillance". Sydney opened it to a spill of black and white photographs of her father and Will. The top one was of the four of them at that Hollywood Bowl concert. The next was a closeup, clearly at the concert, of Will leaning in to say something into Jack's ear, with his hand resting on top of Jack's. "This is nothing, nothing. I probably do the same thing to my friends too. Big deal." She shrugged, not seeing the point.

"Keep going, they are in chronological order." He looked over, "Well, they were. Internal Security is populated mostly by idiots."

There was a photo of Will and Jack at some restaurant, smiling at each other. "So what?" Sydney challenged, while thinking silently that the look of warmth on her father's face was astonishing. "You see what I mean, Sydney, the look on his face?" Sloane did know her father, she thought with a rising feeling of panic.

The next one was of her father and Will shopping for clothes. "I was with them. Will had lost a lot of his clothes in the move" (no way was she going to admit that Jack had deliberately thrown out Will's corduroys) "and the three of us went shopping for new clothes. I was there, nothing happened."

"Look at the next one." That showed Will's surprised face and Jack's laughing visage in the moment after Jack had apparently patted Will on the butt. Inadvertently, Syd began to smile at the photo. "I remember that - the pants were too tight, that's all," Sydney protested although she had not witnessed the moment the photo depicted. "Yes, surveillance said you were there, but had gone off to get a different size for Will. This happened while you were out of sight." She reached out an index finger and gently touched her father's happy face in the photo.

"Keep going. The next one? Honestly, Sydney. Jack Bristow singing in a karaoke bar? If that's not a sign of, I don't know, the impending apocalypse or a nervous breakdown, then...."

Without thinking, Sydney flipped past that photo to the next one and caught her breath. Somehow the photographer, an SD6 hack, had captured a moment of stark intimacy, one that Sydney felt embarrassed to witness, and angered, no infuriated, that Sloan had not only seen, copied, and yes, looking up at him, gloated over. The black and white photograph had caught the moment of a kiss right before the lips touch, when each person's head knows the optimum angle, when the eyes are open with delight, when the smile on the lips shows all the excited anticipation of touching a loved one. Will's hand was on the back of Jack's neck pulling him closer. All of what they felt for each other, and she knew now seeing the photo that there was no word other than love to describe it, was written on their faces. Under normal circumstances she might have thought merely that it was a beautiful portrait, the kind a couple would want to keep. But under these circumstances, she was incensed that anyone had been watching and stealing that moment from them. It was a closeup, so she could not tell where they had been, although her father would have never engaged in such intimate behavior had he thought he was being observed. She said as much to Sloane and added in her anger, "Apparently the Security Section is improving if my father didn't realize..."

Sloane cut her off, "No. Internal Security is still a personnel problem, which proves my point. The fact that Jack Bristow, formerly the most suspicious and careful of any operative I have ever met, slipped his guard enough to allow any of these photos, but especially that last one, to be taken is a problem. The fact that he is engaged in an alternative lifestyle is a matter of debate in terms of being a security problem. But the fact that he is engaging in that behavior with a person known to be hostile to SD6 and someone already tagged as a security risk, someone Jack argued against terminating more than a year ago on the basis of Tippin's relationship with YOU, well, Sydney, all of those issues are impossible to ignore. The risk management team and the powers that be are not going to ignore those issues in my second in command, no matter how many years of friendship lie between us. The fact that he ignored my earlier warnings and apparently did not consider the risk to his position and mine is shocking. Perhaps he is happy, but he's not going to be effective much longer if he continues on this path. I am going to have to start questioning his judgment.in all areas, Sydney." As she had been expecting from the moment she saw the label, here was the threat.

"Just what are you saying and why tell me? Why not go directly to my father?" she gritted out.

"He did ignore my first warnings, when I was not sure, he probably was not even sure, where his relationship with Tippin was going. Even though we've known each other for thirty years, this type of...indiscretion... makes me uncomfortable. For the sake of our friendship, I'd rather you talked to him. I'm hoping this is a temporary midlife crisis situation." Oh this was rich. He was uncomfortable with the idea of Jack and Will together, but allowing countless people to be tortured and possibly killed, that was not a problem? Compartmentalize, Syd. Quickly.

"I know you are in shock, Sydney, but as a favor to me - I've always seen myself as your surrogate father and you as the daughter I never had" Could she gag right now? "- Please tell your father that he needs to demonstrate where his loyalties are."

"What, exactly, does that mean?"

"I am uncomfortable spelling this out."

"Spell it out. I mean, those photos are really a big nothing, especially to people of my generation."

"Ah, but the men and women in charge of our section, in charge of the Alliance, are people from my generation and older, who have different views on the matter. And if all we had were those photos, that would be one problem. But then, there are the tapes."

"The tapes, what tapes, you didn't show me any tapes."

"They are audio tapes, and no child wants to hear their parents in those situations. Sydney, I would not want to make you uncomfortable hearing them. It was bad enough for me." You goddamn voyeur, I bet you listened to them all, several times over. She wanted to retch. Compartmentalize, faster. "These audios - where were they from? At least tell me that. At least give my father something for all these years of loyalty."

Sloane considered her request and appeared to enjoy his largesse as he said, "From Will's apartment. We replaced the bug killer Jack had apparently installed with a dummy." Now, she really wanted to scream. They had been in Will's apartment? No wonder her father had Will move in with him. He must have had some suspicions. Sloane continued, "So, please, in return consider my request that you talk with your father. He needs to stop this behavior, prove that Tippin means nothing. I don't want to lose your father. He knows too much to be considered expendable." He let the words drop into the silence, the threat unmistakable.

Sydney stood up. "I'm assuming we're done."

"But you haven't eaten yet," Sloane protested.

"I have lost my appetite."

"Sydney, sit down, I can see you're upset. I don't want you to go away like this." His paternal concern was just so touching, wasn't it?

"I really have to go," she said with a reasonable facsimile of a sob and stumbled away.

"Wait." She stopped. Sloane continued, "One last warning for your father, to prove I am not faking it, that we do have the tapes. Tell him that I never knew a man could spend so much time on his knees outside of a church."