A Wedding Song 17: Do You Know You Are My Sunshine....
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"Fawkes... not that I don't... love playin'... Santa an' the bad little boy... but if anybody should... you know, walk in... an' see you in my lap..."
"Let 'em. I haven't felt this good in weeks... I deserve to have some fun... an' I don't give a damn..."
"Darien, c'mon... we're supposed to be... in a... briefin' right about now...."
Grinning like a kid with trouble on his mind and a fool-proof plan for finding it, Darien tightened his grip on Bobby's neck and leaned back in to continue his off-key version of a popular seventies make out song in- between long, drawn out kisses.
"Rubbin' sticks an' stones together makes the sparks ignite.... an' the thought of lovin' you is gettin' so exciting...."
"Darien.... mannnnn.... this'll be... the second time.... this week.... The fish knows we ain't... in here fillin' out... paperwork.... aw, for the love a'Mike...."
"I don't."
"Don't what...."
"Love Mike. But for you.... anything. Well... almost." the taller half of the team chuckled. The couch creaked as he shifted his position slightly before going back to the song and his conspicuous consumption of Bobby's face. "Skyrockets in flight.... afternoon delight.... aaaaa- afternoon delight...."
"Afternoon... with our.... butts in a sling... is more like it. Mmmm.... crap... I can never say no to those lips... c'mere...."
A sudden knock on the door startled Bobby and he tried to push Darien off his lap and into a position beside him on the couch. His partner was having none of it and held on, still smiling. Eberts opened the door just a crack and poked his head in. His words and the tone in which they were delivered finally made the younger man relent.
"You two are nearly twenty minutes late! Let's go gentlemen. There's a crisis brewing and Charles wants you both in his office ASAP."
Rising to his feet, Darien grimaced at Eberts.
"Crisis, huh? Did he run out of Ho-Ho's again? And, just outta curiosity, since when did you go back to bein' his lackey?"
"I haven't. With all that's gone on recently... he needed me, and.... It's complicated. I'll explain it later. Enough talk! Time is of the essence! Go, go, go!"
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"Right on time as usual." The Official snarked as the trio entered the office.
"Yeah, but I forgot your standard tribute of nachos and diet soda. Sorry, there great Buddha. You gonna give with the info anyway or should I go hit the convenience store first?" Darien shot right back as he dropped into his chair.
The Official then did something completely unexpected; something that left Darien with his mouth hanging open and erased all possible comebacks from his mind. The Agency's fearless leader smiled openly, threw out the definitive response to his employee's faintly hostile words and continued on as if everything were normal.
"Not necessary. Bring a dish of ramen noodles next time and all will be forgiven. Now, there's been a major shake up at the highest levels of Chrysalis.... yes? Is something wrong?"
"No. Nothing at all." Darien finally responded. "You were talkin' about... what was it?"
Borden's smile widened fractionally, but he passed up the opportunity to keep the banter going in favor of completing the briefing.
"Chrysalis. Our sources are telling us Jared Stark is on the run from his own people."
"What?" Bobby replied, sitting forward in his chair, full attention on their boss. "That don't make sense. It's gotta be fake... or the source got it wrong."
"Unfortunately, neither applies. It seems that the juvenile Jonestown was his idea and his alone. The upper echelon knew nothing of it and they weren't at all happy when they learned what he'd tried to do. They're even less pleased that forty-six prime examples of their genetic manipulations are currently in our hands and being deprogrammed as we speak."
Growing more and more pale by the minute, Darien gripped the arms of the chair fiercely and managed to choke out the only question running through his mind.
"Stark... he... it was his choice to... to do that his child? He wasn't forced into it? He sent his own flesh and blood to...."
"He was fully aware. According to the autopsy, however.... he might have thought he had a legitimate reason for his actions."
"Reason?! How can you... what reason?"
"Mercy. The formula Stark gave the boy to increase his rate of growth.... it wasn't totally de-bugged. It had begun to cause mutations in the child's bones and organs. Our M.E. can't be certain, but he doesn't think James would have lived much more than another year. Perhaps far less. Stark may have actually believed he was providing a quick, painless way out for his child."
"And we're hearin' this why?" Bobby asked, noting that Darien had retreated into himself slightly.
"Stark is now a free agent. He's out there somewhere, in fear for his life and carrying around the information that will bring down Chrysalis once and for all. We need to get to him before anyone else does and do some hard- core convincing. This is a once in a lifetime chance. We don't dare pass up the chance to turn Jared Stark into a white hat."
Hearing that particular phrase snapped Darien out of his momentary fugue with a slight shiver.
"What?" Bobby questioned.
"Nothing. I'm okay. So... do we even have a starting point? Do we have any idea where to go first?"
"I have an address. He hasn't been there in weeks, possibly a month or more, but he may have left something behind."
"That's it." Darien countered incredulously.
"We... I'm working on it." Borden corrected himself awkwardly, glancing swiftly up at Eberts then back to the two men in front of him. "This isn't like calling for the movie listings...."
"We'll find you more intelligence." Eberts continued. "It may take a day or two, but it will happen. I know you both understand how important this could be... how many lives it could save. You'll have to do your best until I've had time to dig deeper and get my contact network back up and running."
"Okay. I guess you're right..." Bobby began, breaking off when his cell phone buzzed. "Hobbes here. Hey. No. No, I can't. It's the middle of a work day, that's why..."
Smiling thinly at the room in general, Bobby rose and moved out into the hall. Darien made his apologies, accepted the address to Stark's former residence and went to be with Hobbes, sensing something was wrong. When he found his partner, Bobby was standing a few feet down the corridor, back turned to Darien. His voice and stiff posture concerned Darien and as he got closer he realized his instincts were right "Yeah, well, that was when I gave a damn. No, you can't come to the apartment. I'm not there anymore. You got a problem with that? That's right, big changes an' all good ones. The best is discoverin' I don't have to let you do this to me anymore, Viv. Do what, she says. Let you tie me up in knots and gimme migraines is what. I don't jump an' run on your say so.... Oh, no, uh-uh, no way, lady. 'Cause you don't have a right to it. Yeah, that's pretty much what I'm sayin. Fine, you do that. Bye."
Bobby closed his phone very slowly, dropped his hands to his sides and began to take slow, deep breaths. He knew he was making an all-too obvious show of maintaining his composure, but just then he couldn't be bothered to care who knew he was angry. Darien added an easy shoulder massage to the effort and Bobby soon relaxed enough to turn and face his partner.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah... so am I every time I think about what an unbelievable mistake marryin' her was."
"She wanted the new address?"
"What she wants... is to talk. About what I don't know an' I don't care. Let's get goin'. We got an assignment."
"You don't feel like talkin' about it, huh?" Darien asked, trailing Bobby to the elevator.
"Right on the first guess, kid. As a prize you get a trip in the truck."
"Add in an ice cream on the way home you got a deal."
"I thought you got over the ice cream obsession when Bobbi was born."
"I will never stop being obsessed with peanut parfaits. What I got over was wantin' the sour cream and onion chips on top."
"That wasn't half as bad as the bacon bits and pickled onion on that sundae you made at home."
"I still say it wasn't fair to make me eat outside that day."
"I had to keep my own dessert down didn't I? Tell you what; promise me you'll never sing that song to me in public an' I'll even spring for extra hot fudge."
"In private?"
"That's a different kettle a'fish, my friend...."
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"He was right." Bobby sighed, gazing around the trashed, half empty apartment in frustration. "There's nothin' here. Nothin' we can use anyway. From the looks of it he left a while ago. Dust bunnies ain't gonna help us find Stark. We might as well get outta here Fawkes? You hearin' me?"
Curious, Bobby moved back into the bedroom where he knew Darien had been searching on his own. He found his fiancée kneeling on the floor in front of a night stand, slowly sifting through a pile of photographs. Dropping to the bed, he waved the cloud of resulting dust away and held out his hand. Darien passed a few of the photos to him. When he realized who the child in the pictures had to be, Bobby closed his eyes briefly, then laid a hand on his partner's shoulder and squeezed gently.
"It's him ain't it?"
"Most of them... yeah. Damn, he was a gorgeous kid...."
"Babe, don't do this."
"I'm not. It's just...."
"Just what?"
"I don't know. I had a thought there, but... it's playin' hide an' seek now, I guess. You find anything?"
"Nah. Big zilch on the evidence front."
"Look at this one.... musta been taken right after he left on the plane.... an' before Stark started playin' God.... How could we do that, Bobby? How could we give him back? Look what we did to him..."
" *We* did nothin wrong. Stark's wife played us, Fawkes. You know that. None of us coulda seen that comin'. We thought she really wanted out. It's their fault, not ours an' *really* not yours. You gotta quit beatin' up on yourself for not bein psychic. Besides, like the fish said.... James was dyin'. At some point... it woulda been outta everybody's hands. If it had to happen...."
"Don't. Don't finish that sentence, Bobby. I can't...."
Abruptly, Darien stood, gathering the pictures together and absently brushing the residue of abandonment off his pants. "Let's get these back to the Agency. Maybe the guys in photo analysis can find somethin' in the background of one of 'em that'll give us a better lead."
"Yeah. Yeah, maybe." Bobby responded, rising to follow his partner out. "I could definitely use a banana split right about now..."
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1 HOUR LATER
Standing before the window of the padded room he knew so intimately, Darien gazed in at Alex, fighting the urge to run or drop to his knees and beg her forgiveness. Though it was a struggle, he forced himself to remain in place until she realized he was there. When she did, she lunged at the glass, screaming obscenities he couldn't hear but could guess at, pounding furiously and scratching in her effort to get at him.
Swallowing hard, he gazed down one last time at the picture he held then attached a piece of scotch tape to the back of the photo. Gently, he taped the picture of baby James to the window, facing in so Alex could see it, and walked away.
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TBC.....
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"Fawkes... not that I don't... love playin'... Santa an' the bad little boy... but if anybody should... you know, walk in... an' see you in my lap..."
"Let 'em. I haven't felt this good in weeks... I deserve to have some fun... an' I don't give a damn..."
"Darien, c'mon... we're supposed to be... in a... briefin' right about now...."
Grinning like a kid with trouble on his mind and a fool-proof plan for finding it, Darien tightened his grip on Bobby's neck and leaned back in to continue his off-key version of a popular seventies make out song in- between long, drawn out kisses.
"Rubbin' sticks an' stones together makes the sparks ignite.... an' the thought of lovin' you is gettin' so exciting...."
"Darien.... mannnnn.... this'll be... the second time.... this week.... The fish knows we ain't... in here fillin' out... paperwork.... aw, for the love a'Mike...."
"I don't."
"Don't what...."
"Love Mike. But for you.... anything. Well... almost." the taller half of the team chuckled. The couch creaked as he shifted his position slightly before going back to the song and his conspicuous consumption of Bobby's face. "Skyrockets in flight.... afternoon delight.... aaaaa- afternoon delight...."
"Afternoon... with our.... butts in a sling... is more like it. Mmmm.... crap... I can never say no to those lips... c'mere...."
A sudden knock on the door startled Bobby and he tried to push Darien off his lap and into a position beside him on the couch. His partner was having none of it and held on, still smiling. Eberts opened the door just a crack and poked his head in. His words and the tone in which they were delivered finally made the younger man relent.
"You two are nearly twenty minutes late! Let's go gentlemen. There's a crisis brewing and Charles wants you both in his office ASAP."
Rising to his feet, Darien grimaced at Eberts.
"Crisis, huh? Did he run out of Ho-Ho's again? And, just outta curiosity, since when did you go back to bein' his lackey?"
"I haven't. With all that's gone on recently... he needed me, and.... It's complicated. I'll explain it later. Enough talk! Time is of the essence! Go, go, go!"
(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((
"Right on time as usual." The Official snarked as the trio entered the office.
"Yeah, but I forgot your standard tribute of nachos and diet soda. Sorry, there great Buddha. You gonna give with the info anyway or should I go hit the convenience store first?" Darien shot right back as he dropped into his chair.
The Official then did something completely unexpected; something that left Darien with his mouth hanging open and erased all possible comebacks from his mind. The Agency's fearless leader smiled openly, threw out the definitive response to his employee's faintly hostile words and continued on as if everything were normal.
"Not necessary. Bring a dish of ramen noodles next time and all will be forgiven. Now, there's been a major shake up at the highest levels of Chrysalis.... yes? Is something wrong?"
"No. Nothing at all." Darien finally responded. "You were talkin' about... what was it?"
Borden's smile widened fractionally, but he passed up the opportunity to keep the banter going in favor of completing the briefing.
"Chrysalis. Our sources are telling us Jared Stark is on the run from his own people."
"What?" Bobby replied, sitting forward in his chair, full attention on their boss. "That don't make sense. It's gotta be fake... or the source got it wrong."
"Unfortunately, neither applies. It seems that the juvenile Jonestown was his idea and his alone. The upper echelon knew nothing of it and they weren't at all happy when they learned what he'd tried to do. They're even less pleased that forty-six prime examples of their genetic manipulations are currently in our hands and being deprogrammed as we speak."
Growing more and more pale by the minute, Darien gripped the arms of the chair fiercely and managed to choke out the only question running through his mind.
"Stark... he... it was his choice to... to do that his child? He wasn't forced into it? He sent his own flesh and blood to...."
"He was fully aware. According to the autopsy, however.... he might have thought he had a legitimate reason for his actions."
"Reason?! How can you... what reason?"
"Mercy. The formula Stark gave the boy to increase his rate of growth.... it wasn't totally de-bugged. It had begun to cause mutations in the child's bones and organs. Our M.E. can't be certain, but he doesn't think James would have lived much more than another year. Perhaps far less. Stark may have actually believed he was providing a quick, painless way out for his child."
"And we're hearin' this why?" Bobby asked, noting that Darien had retreated into himself slightly.
"Stark is now a free agent. He's out there somewhere, in fear for his life and carrying around the information that will bring down Chrysalis once and for all. We need to get to him before anyone else does and do some hard- core convincing. This is a once in a lifetime chance. We don't dare pass up the chance to turn Jared Stark into a white hat."
Hearing that particular phrase snapped Darien out of his momentary fugue with a slight shiver.
"What?" Bobby questioned.
"Nothing. I'm okay. So... do we even have a starting point? Do we have any idea where to go first?"
"I have an address. He hasn't been there in weeks, possibly a month or more, but he may have left something behind."
"That's it." Darien countered incredulously.
"We... I'm working on it." Borden corrected himself awkwardly, glancing swiftly up at Eberts then back to the two men in front of him. "This isn't like calling for the movie listings...."
"We'll find you more intelligence." Eberts continued. "It may take a day or two, but it will happen. I know you both understand how important this could be... how many lives it could save. You'll have to do your best until I've had time to dig deeper and get my contact network back up and running."
"Okay. I guess you're right..." Bobby began, breaking off when his cell phone buzzed. "Hobbes here. Hey. No. No, I can't. It's the middle of a work day, that's why..."
Smiling thinly at the room in general, Bobby rose and moved out into the hall. Darien made his apologies, accepted the address to Stark's former residence and went to be with Hobbes, sensing something was wrong. When he found his partner, Bobby was standing a few feet down the corridor, back turned to Darien. His voice and stiff posture concerned Darien and as he got closer he realized his instincts were right "Yeah, well, that was when I gave a damn. No, you can't come to the apartment. I'm not there anymore. You got a problem with that? That's right, big changes an' all good ones. The best is discoverin' I don't have to let you do this to me anymore, Viv. Do what, she says. Let you tie me up in knots and gimme migraines is what. I don't jump an' run on your say so.... Oh, no, uh-uh, no way, lady. 'Cause you don't have a right to it. Yeah, that's pretty much what I'm sayin. Fine, you do that. Bye."
Bobby closed his phone very slowly, dropped his hands to his sides and began to take slow, deep breaths. He knew he was making an all-too obvious show of maintaining his composure, but just then he couldn't be bothered to care who knew he was angry. Darien added an easy shoulder massage to the effort and Bobby soon relaxed enough to turn and face his partner.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah... so am I every time I think about what an unbelievable mistake marryin' her was."
"She wanted the new address?"
"What she wants... is to talk. About what I don't know an' I don't care. Let's get goin'. We got an assignment."
"You don't feel like talkin' about it, huh?" Darien asked, trailing Bobby to the elevator.
"Right on the first guess, kid. As a prize you get a trip in the truck."
"Add in an ice cream on the way home you got a deal."
"I thought you got over the ice cream obsession when Bobbi was born."
"I will never stop being obsessed with peanut parfaits. What I got over was wantin' the sour cream and onion chips on top."
"That wasn't half as bad as the bacon bits and pickled onion on that sundae you made at home."
"I still say it wasn't fair to make me eat outside that day."
"I had to keep my own dessert down didn't I? Tell you what; promise me you'll never sing that song to me in public an' I'll even spring for extra hot fudge."
"In private?"
"That's a different kettle a'fish, my friend...."
((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((
"He was right." Bobby sighed, gazing around the trashed, half empty apartment in frustration. "There's nothin' here. Nothin' we can use anyway. From the looks of it he left a while ago. Dust bunnies ain't gonna help us find Stark. We might as well get outta here Fawkes? You hearin' me?"
Curious, Bobby moved back into the bedroom where he knew Darien had been searching on his own. He found his fiancée kneeling on the floor in front of a night stand, slowly sifting through a pile of photographs. Dropping to the bed, he waved the cloud of resulting dust away and held out his hand. Darien passed a few of the photos to him. When he realized who the child in the pictures had to be, Bobby closed his eyes briefly, then laid a hand on his partner's shoulder and squeezed gently.
"It's him ain't it?"
"Most of them... yeah. Damn, he was a gorgeous kid...."
"Babe, don't do this."
"I'm not. It's just...."
"Just what?"
"I don't know. I had a thought there, but... it's playin' hide an' seek now, I guess. You find anything?"
"Nah. Big zilch on the evidence front."
"Look at this one.... musta been taken right after he left on the plane.... an' before Stark started playin' God.... How could we do that, Bobby? How could we give him back? Look what we did to him..."
" *We* did nothin wrong. Stark's wife played us, Fawkes. You know that. None of us coulda seen that comin'. We thought she really wanted out. It's their fault, not ours an' *really* not yours. You gotta quit beatin' up on yourself for not bein psychic. Besides, like the fish said.... James was dyin'. At some point... it woulda been outta everybody's hands. If it had to happen...."
"Don't. Don't finish that sentence, Bobby. I can't...."
Abruptly, Darien stood, gathering the pictures together and absently brushing the residue of abandonment off his pants. "Let's get these back to the Agency. Maybe the guys in photo analysis can find somethin' in the background of one of 'em that'll give us a better lead."
"Yeah. Yeah, maybe." Bobby responded, rising to follow his partner out. "I could definitely use a banana split right about now..."
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1 HOUR LATER
Standing before the window of the padded room he knew so intimately, Darien gazed in at Alex, fighting the urge to run or drop to his knees and beg her forgiveness. Though it was a struggle, he forced himself to remain in place until she realized he was there. When she did, she lunged at the glass, screaming obscenities he couldn't hear but could guess at, pounding furiously and scratching in her effort to get at him.
Swallowing hard, he gazed down one last time at the picture he held then attached a piece of scotch tape to the back of the photo. Gently, he taped the picture of baby James to the window, facing in so Alex could see it, and walked away.
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TBC.....