The One and Only Jessie Bannon – A Jonny Quest: The Real Adventures Fanfiction
by Akane-Rei
Chapter Two: Living With the Past
Siann sipped her hot chocolate as she stared at the strolling people before her. Like most Parisians, she enjoyed the luxury of people- watching. The way people walked or carried themselves told her so much about them and yet so little. Putting together the jigsaw puzzle that was humanity fascinated her.
She tucked a strand of her red hair behind her ear when she felt a touch in her shoulder.
"Jean-Luc," she said without looking at his face. She continued to stare at the streets where the antics of a small boy caught her attention. Clearly, he was debating the merits of finishing his ice cream first or joining his playmates in their game with a ball. She watched his tiny brows turn up as he continued to lick his treat while a yearning expression entered his face.
"New project?" asked Luc, noticing her preoccupation.
"Perhaps," she replied. The boy, by now, has decided to abandon precaution and join his playmates.
"Hmmmmm," commented Luc. "Come to think of it, you've never painted a child before."
Tension sprang in the back of her neck at these words. She could feel it creeping along the back of her neck, making its way to her head.
"No," she said quietly, "I have not." A black Labrador has decided to join the rowdy group and Siann could see how the dog eyed the ice cream.
"Siann," said Luc, "Siann, look at me."
Dragging her eyes away from the scene, Siann faced Jean-Luc. "Yes?" she asked nonchalantly.
"Siann," he said. "Let us reaffirm the fact that there was -- is nothing wrong with you. The doctor said that given time, you and Pierre would have eventually conceived."
"I know," she replied. "But Pierre's gone now and I don't think I could find someone quite like him."
He sighed. "Your husband—my esteemed brother—has been dead for four years," he said. "It is time to move on."
She nodded to this and resumed her watch of the children. The little boy's ice cream had been gobbled up by the Labrador and an anxiety began to settle in his expression
"It is time to change the subject," she said as her right hand touched the wedding band she refused to take off her left hand.
For the second time, Jean-Luc sighed. "Alright," he replied reluctantly. He took a deep breath. "Your exhibition two weeks ago is still discussed, by the way. The reviews were, for the most part, very complimentary. The press, however, would still like an interview with the quote 'flame-haired goddess' who took Paris by storm with her talents.
"No interviews," she said firmly.
"You know that they continue to speculate because of that policy of yours, no?"
She nodded, but remained unchanged.
"Do you know what they say about us?"
Siann laughed. "Quite," she replied.
He scowled. "You would not find it so funny if it were your love life that is being hassled," he grumbled. "Do you know how many times I have asked a lady to dinner, only to be turned down flat because they think I am straying from you?"
She continued to laugh. "Well, Romeo," she said, "perhaps you should set them straight."
"I tried," he said indignantly. "Seriously, though," said Jean-Luc, "we must do at least one press conference. Otherwise, they would dodge your footsteps everywhere you go. Sooner or later, they would be bound to recognize your face. We've been very successful in keeping your face off the paper so far, but we both know it's only a matter of time."
Siann remained silent. She watched the children and saw the boy's mother run towards him when his face started to scrunch up. She watched as she cradled him in her arms and comforted him and wiped his tear streaked face. A familiar knot formed in her chest.
"Siann," he said. "It cannot be avoided."
"I know," said Siann. "Perhaps it's better to get that unpleasantness over with."
"I can arrange for one next week," he said.
She nodded her head reluctantly.
They sat in silence for awhile when Siann said, "I really shouldn't be complaining. There are much worse situations than what I have."
"I don't know about that," said Jean-Luc. "Forced publicity on a very private person who values personal space more than anything?"
She smiled. "Sometimes I wonder . . ." she said with a far away look on her face. "What would have been my fate had it not been for you, Pierre and Zechariah? The life of a pickpocket in the streets of Paris is not the most stable of jobs, no?"
"But you did meet us," said Luc, "and now you're you. Whatever you were is behind you now. You are Siann. No more, no less."
Hadji Singh dropped his bags and returned his friend's hug.
"It has been a long time," he said.
"You got that right," said Jonathon. "How're you doin', Hadj?"
"I am quite healthy," said Hadji as both walked towards the study to greet the older Quest.
A teasing light entered Jon's eyes. "So," he said, "Your mom still trying to marry you off?"
Hadji began to laugh. "I believe," he said, "that after that . . . incident you perpetrated, she has decided to leave that part of my life to my discretion."
Jon looked at him disbelievingly.
"That is not to say that she has not dropped subtle hints regarding her ardent desire for grandchildren," added Hadji.
Jon smirked. "Well," he said, "at least she hasn't invited any more of her 'friends' and their daughters around in an effort to matchmake."
"You have," said Hadji, "quite effectively put a stop to her ideas of arranged marriages." He frowned. "At the expense of my dignity, ofcourse,"
"Hey," protested Jon, "What are friends for? What did you expect me to do when I receive a phone call outlining the 'suffering' you were going through when your mom practically threw you to what you considered 'sharks'." He smiled wickedly.
Hadji scowled. "Your dramatic interpretation of the emotional scarring I received from the supposed multitude of women in my past would, I admit, have been very amusing were it not for the fact that while you were so eloquently presenting the dramatization to my mother, the Prime Minister of Sardus and his daughter were standing six feet behind you, listening to every word." He paused. "I believe she went home the following day, promising to keep my rather unfortunate luck with women a secret."
Hadji frowned even more, remembering both the look of pity and suppressed laughter form the prime minister's face. The Prime Minister, intelligent man that he was, quickly caught on to what Jon had been trying to attempt and had succeeded admirably in holding back his hilarity as Jon continued to play act his interpretation of a distraught Hadji as another woman callously broke his heart. Hadji winced, remembering his friend's deplorable attempt at acting.
He smiled inwardly. Time was a great healer. Years ago, he would not have been able to find any humor in the situations Jon had described, but now, he could not help but think of them and remember Jon's humorous appeal to his mother.
Jon began chuckling.
Hadji looked at him with mock consternation.
"I thought I played you quite well," said Jon. "I'd say I gave you hints of charm here and there . . . and of course, let's not forget that I gave life to your character."
"Do not, as they say, quit your day job," replied Hadji.
They opened the door to the study and found Dr. Quest writing in his journals. He looked up and beamed upon seeing Hadji with Jon.
"Hadji!" he exclaimed, giving him a bear hug. "When did you get here? We would have picked you up at the airport."
"I caught an earlier flight," he said. "It was good to drive through town and see the things that changed and remained the same."
"Well," Dr. Quest said, "you're just in time for lunch. Mrs. Evans prepared something special today, I'm sure."
"Why don't I help you carry your bags upstairs," said Jon. "Your room is still as you left it."
"Ofcourse," said Hadji.
The two of them waved good-bye to Dr. Quest before exiting the study.
Hadji took the chance to drink in his surroundings, refamiliarizing himself to the sights, the sounds, the smell of what for him was the place where he spent most of his joyful times.
Climbing the stairs, he looked at the hallway coming within his sight and was not surprised when memories of another time assaulted him.
- - FLASHBACK - -
"Hadji!" she pleaded to him as she tapped her foot furiously on the floor, "Can you please tell Mr. Hotshot in there that getting ready for school shouldn't have to take hours at a time?" She turned from him and started banging on the bathroom door again. "Jonny!" she screamed.
Jonny emerged from the bathroom with his trademark lopsided grin in place.
Jess looked at him incredulously. "This is why you spent the last hour and a half locked in there?" she shrieked. Gathering her bathing materials in her arms, she took the doorknob from his hand and slammed the door in his face.
Jonny looked at her with a perplexed expression in his face, and then shrugged his shoulders. He turned to Hadji and said, "What's her problem?"
He held back a smile. "I think it was the lack of visible results stemming from the time you spent hogging the bathroom."
"What do you mean 'lack of visible results' ?" said Jonny. "Didn't you notice anything different?"
Uh-oh, he thought. "Um. . . well . . ." he stammered. Honesty is the best policy. "No," he said.
"Hadji!" exclaimed Jonny. "Look! I shaved today!"
At this point, Jessie stuck her head back out of the bathroom and put in her two cents worth. "Yeah right!" she said derisively. "Like you have something to shave!"
The thirteen year old looked at both of them. "C'mon you guys, didn't you notice?"
Hadji's eyes met her sparkling green ones and they both collapsed in laughter.
- - END FLASHBACK- -
"Hadji! Hadji! Hadji!"
He snapped out of his reverie and looked at Jon with what he was sure was a silly grin in his face.
"Where were you?" asked Jon. "I've been trying to get your attention for the past minute."
Hadji smiled. "I was remembering the good times," he replied.
Jon smiled. "The three of us had a lot of them," he said softly.
"Yes," agreed Hadji, "we did.
They walked silently to his room, each in their own thoughts.