Title: Underdog - Chapter 2
Author: StuckHereWithNoTV
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Going home isn't always easy.
Disclaimer: Jake 2.0 and all related elements, characters and indicia copyright Roundtable Entertainment and Viacom Productions, Inc., 2003. All Rights Reserved. All characters and situations-save those created by the authors for use solely on this website-are copyright Roundtable Entertainment and Viacom Productions, Inc.
Jake groaned, feeling his mind swim to consciousness. The absence of "Luigi's Deli Sausage Smell of the Morning" that he usually used as an alarm clock back in his apartment was completely disorienting. Jake sat up, stretched, and took stock of his surroundings. Among the cozy furnishings of the room, he spied several picture frames on the tablestand beside him. Many of them were of younger versions of Diane -- her at the beach, on a bike with training wheels, blowing out candles on a birthday cake -- but it was an image of her around eight years old that caught Jake's eye. He grinned at the sight of a short, curly haired girl standing on a chair in what appeared to be the greenhouse. Wearing much too large of a lab coat, Little Diane had her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth and was intensely examining the amount of green liquid in a beaker.
Jake continued to hold the picture for a few seconds before placing it back in its place and starting his search for the first floor bathroom. Discovering what he was looking for, Jake took a shower after which he found the framed marine wildlife photographs that covered the room slightly on the odd side. He emerged back into the entryway about to retrieve some clothes from his bag, when the smell and sound of rich, full-bodied coffee beans being ground assailed his nanite-enhanced senses.
He peered down the hallway and spotted Diane standing in front of the coffee machine, stifling a yawn. Jake's eyes unwittingly wandered from her sleepy expression that held a similar endearing factor the girl in the picture possessed, down to the oversized cotton shirt that scarcely reached mid-thigh. His dilated pupils locked on the bare expanse of her legs before Jake shook his head, bewildered.
"Jet lag," he stated. "It's just jet lag." Jake rubbed his eyes, trying his best to ignore the fact that they were still in the same time zone and that jet lag didn't usually cause a sudden rush of blood to certain areas. Convinced that some coffee would cure his "jet lag" and prove that what he was experiencing wasn't a big deal, he padded barefoot over to the kitchen and stopped in the doorway.
Jake cleared his throat as the ear-piercing buzz from the coffee grinder came to a halt. "Mornin'," he croaked, forcing his attention above Diane's neck and not on the partially buttoned-up white shirt that had suddenly become semi-translucent in the sunlight.
Diane yelped, almost spilling the grounds she had been spooning into a filter. "Geez, Jake, you scared the hell out of me," she gasped while switching the coffee machine on. "I didn't know you had woke--" Diane spun around, her line of sight darting downwards and then quickly gluing itself back up to his face, "got out of the shower."
Jake's eyes widened, suddenly remembering the lone bath towel he wore. "Yeah... kinda didn't know that myself," he stiffly smiled, clasping his hands in front of him strategically.
"Mmm, well, uh," Diane jerked her thumb pointing to the counter and folded her arms. "I was just making some coffee. Do you want any or are you still mentally scarred from your last experience?" she inquired with a nervous laugh.
"No, no," Jake gulped, fighting to keep from noticing the swell of her chest as she crossed her arms. "It was pretty traumatic, I'll admit, but I think I can handle a cup."
"Okay." She lowered her head, a blush tinting her cheeks at the sudden realization of her own lack of attire. "Well, I'm going to go upstairs and, um... get dressed."
"All right." He felt his pulse start to beat erratically as Diane moved forward and stopped just in front of him. With her face only a few inches from his own, Jake absorbed every detail and movement -- the sunlight playing on her tousled hair as she brushed away a stray curl, her sleepy and half-closed eyelids behind a somewhat askew pair of glasses, the way her lips slightly parted when she tipped her head up to look at him -- all of which seemed to resonate so clearly, refusing to surrender possession over him. Jake swore he could feel the nanites course savagely through his veins as his lungs devoured the scent of her shampoo and his after-shave intermingling on top of the earthy aroma of coffee that surrounded them.
"Jake..." Diane murmured breathlessly.
Intoxicated by the timbre of her voice penetrating into his mind, Jake's own lips parted, desperately seeking oxygen to keep his tortured senses from drowning. "What is it, Diane?" he managed to breathe out.
Her gaze slowly shifted from his face to just above his shoulder. "Could you move over a bit?"
"Hmm...?" Jake was brutally snapped out of his trance as he became aware that he was blocking the entire doorway. "Oh! God, yeah. Sorry, uh--" he stammered, pushing his back against the door frame.
Diane smiled feebly and squeezed her way through, inadvertently brushing against him. "I'll be back down in a few minutes," she said, not hearing Jake's sharp intake of breath.
"Okay," he replied, his voice wavering. Jake watched her disappearance up the stairs before resting his hands on his hips and letting his head bang against the door frame. Licking his parched lips, he hoped with all his might that the nanites quickly restored his vitals to normal before Diane reached her bedroom; the last thing he wanted was her rushing back down, JMD in hand, insisting on touching him to make sure he was okay... well, pretty sure that was the last thing he wanted. "Gotta be the jet lag," Jake muttered, unconvincingly.
After haphazardly throwing on a clean set of clothes and almost causing a domino affect of plants crashing to the ground, Jake went outside onto the covered porch convinced that some fresh air would do him some good. He zipped up his jacket while walking over to the eastern side of the house and leaned against the rustic wood railing. Jake scanned the area, lazily observing the ballet of fickle shadows the rising sun cast upon the grass and large floral garden. The crisp, salty air that swirled through the vast region of pine trees slipped through the barrier of his jacket and soothed his skin that had been overheated only a few minutes ago. Shutting his eyes, Jake trailed his fingertips against the rough grain of the wood, enthralled with the relaxing effect the whole place had. It stunned him to the core at how much he really liked it here...
"Hey," Diane greeted, coming up beside him.
Jake blinked, switching his attention to her. She had changed into one of her usual Diane-ish outfits and was carrying two steaming mugs, one of which was held out to him. Giving a small smile of thanks, he took the cup and sipped the robust liquid. "This place... I don't really know how to describe it..." he said, secretly pleased that his bout of out-of-nowhere libido had subsided. Although, he still found the flighty and pleasant feeling reappearing in the bottom of his stomach more than a little disconcerting.
She nodded, perusing the flowerbeds. "You know, I noticed it was only seven o'clock... Do you want to, maybe, see this one place I think you might like?"
Jake straightened from his slouching position. "Sure."
The normally blackish-blue depths of Frenchman Bay had turned a shimmering light golden umber in the wake of the morning sun. Strolling along the far south end of the gravel paved Shore Path, Jake and Diane paused to soak in downtown Bar Harbor's coastal environment.
Foam-capped waves lapped against the rocky beach, blanketing the shore greedily before retreating under the current's stern command. To their right, the creaking of the decades old dock that sat near the foot of Bar Harbor Inn produced a back beat to the main melody of screeching seagulls circling in the rose tinted sky.
"What's that over there?" Jake pointed at a large island the wispy clouds almost seemed to form a halo above.
"Bald Porcupine Island," Diane answered. "Don't ask," she added with a smirk, not even having to see his puzzlement over the name.
They trekked a few feet northward, admiring the mansion-like cottages that lined the entire trail. Occasional bushes and low hanging tree branches that crept from the private property backyards onto the path created small, inviting coves of shade. Strong breakfast fragrances wafting from the restaurants on Main Street a few blocks down hinted at the location of the weekend tourists who would have normally congested the trail.
Diane directed Jake's attention to the cottage they were currently passing. "I remember that's where I crashed my bike when I was ten," she informed ruefully.
He winced looking at the solid, whitewashed privacy fence she gestured at. "Ouch. How'd that happen?"
She buried her hands in the pockets of her red jacket. "Back to the Future re-enactment," she muttered.
"Wha--" He froze in his tracks and pulled on her sleeve so she would stop as well. "Excuse me, what?"
Embarrassed, Diane's eyes darted around at anywhere but him. "The movie came out that year and I really liked it. And it looked so easy to just pretend I was in the Delorean about to go back in time. You know, just get a long stretch of road and drive really fast-- or pedal really fast, in my case..." She shrugged defensively at Jake's raised eyebrow. "I was ten! Overactive imagination. I didn't know how fast eighty-eight miles per hour was... And I really wanted to meet Doc and his dog, Einstein."
He chuckled, the laugh lines on his face deepening. "So, hey," he motioned his hands excitedly, "did you build your own--"
"Flux Capacitor?" Diane said, finishing the sentence for him. "Oh yeah. I think I used a shoe box, straws, and some plastic wrap. Yeah, just stuck that baby between the handle bars and let it ride... right into the fence."
He cracked up, laughing much to Diane's chagrin. "Sorry. I'm sorry." he apologized. "I'm not laughing at you. It's just... that's adorable."
"It was stupid," she snorted, turning to face the water. "I shouldn't have even been riding a bike on the trail."
"Yeah..." He pivoted to face the bay, following suit. "And, besides, everyone knows you need plutonium to make it work in the first place." Diane elbowed Jake's stomach causing him to groan in mock pain. "Hey, watch it," he warned with a smile. "You know, speaking of adorable, I saw the pictures in your parents' living room."
"Oh, God. Ugh." Diane rolled her eyes. "I forgot all about those photos."
"And the sea life photos in the bathroom...?"
She giggled. "Oh, you saw those, huh?"
"Yeah. Kinda hard to miss."
"My mom took those." Diane pushed back her hair the sea breeze blew in her face. "Marine biologist."
"Wow." Jake said, impressed. "A botanist and a marine biologist. Very... sciencey."
She smiled at his verbal eloquence. "Yeah, I guess it's genetic."
The conversation faded away for a few moments and was substituted with observing the naval activity on the waterfront. In the distance, the short blast of a ferry's horn sliced through the soft, rhythmic crashing of the surf.
"So, how'd your folks meet?" Jake asked, watching the trail of sea foam left by a passing sailboat.
"Over an aquarium of eels and red kelp," Diane said, fondly.
"Hmm. Well, that's something you don't hear everyday."
"It was some oceanic ecology convention at the Biological Lab up in Salisbury Cove," she explained. "My mom works there and was giving a lecture that my dad happened to attend, and so I guess they just hit it off." Her eyes wondered over to the docks where the local fishermen were unloading their first, before-dawn catch of lobsters. "My mom always likes to joke about how they first met and so my dad made it a habit of getting a fishbowl whenever their anniversary rolls around."
"A fishbowl?"
"Yeah, my dad always puts a fishbowl filled with red kelp and water by my mom's bedside the morning of their anniversary. And since you can't really get eels, he'd put those little Goldfish crackers in there as a substitute."
Jake smiled. "Sounds like they really love each other."
"Yeah. They really do."
The hint of wistfulness Jake heard in Diane's voice caused him to glance over at her. "What's wrong?" he asked, seeing her stare at the horizon with a far away look on her face.
She shook her head, self-conscious. "Nothing," she murmured. "It's nothing. I was just thinking."
He frowned, knowing she was lying but decided it was wiser not to push the issue. "You were right; I do like this spot," Jake commented.
"I used to walk down here a lot when I was a teenager," Diane said, going along with the change of subject. "I didn't really realize how much I missed it until now."
Jake wet his lips, tasting the faint amount of salt the sea breeze left upon them. "I guess it's true that sometimes you have to almost lose something before you realize how much it really means to you..." A couple seconds went by before he turned to her, laughing, "Did that sound too much like it could've come from some bad Bryan Adams song?"
"Yeah, it kinda did," Diane cringed, grinning at him. "But I think -- all Bryan Adams stuff pushed aside -- what you said... I think it really is true."
Jake stared down at her, wondering what was running through Diane's head as she stood looking right back up at him. He noticed her shoulders slump slightly before she finally turned away from him to face the bay. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Jake followed her lead and watched the morning sun continue to burnish the sea and sky in silence.