Title: February
Author: Katerina
Rating: PG
Pairing: J/S, of course… with mentions of M/S
Disclaimer: I think we all know this by now…
Author's Notes: Once again, I apologise for the delay. Hopefully, the next few chapters should come more easily as my life settles down a bit. This chapter was a hard one for me to write, and I'm not sure if I liked the way it turned out, so… please let me know what you think!
And, as always, thanks to Mariel for posting, prodding and feedback!
Chapter Six
Jack Malone watches himself dress in the long mirror on his closet door. He is red-eyed after four hours' sleep, and he's not sure if he's entirely sober.
He doesn't really care.
His broad, calloused fingers are steady and surprisingly quick on the tiny buttons of his shirt, but they falter slightly as he begins to knot his tie.
First, he remembers his mother teaching him how to tie it when he was eight. He was going to a wedding, he thinks… or a funeral. He's not sure.
Then he remembers all the times Marie fussed over a perfect Windsor knot for her work parties. He'd stand, waiting and patient, neat in a dark suit until everything was just right, and then he'd kiss her. He thinks that the first time she objected to this, because it smudged her lipstick, it was the beginning of the end.
His breath slows now, almost stopping as he finally remembers slim fingers with impractical red nails tugging impatiently at the black silk. He thinks that's when he started to wear black all the time, because he liked to remind them both of how good it looked, twined around her pale wrists and delicate hands as she lay in his bed.
He blinks, and then she's gone.
Across the room, his cell is ringing. He ignores it, and continues to dress for work.
XXXX
By the time he arrives, there are five missed calls listed on the display, all from the same number. Jack notes the interstate prefix, and decides he'd rather not know what's going on.
There is a package waiting on his desk. The red and white stripes denote a federal government courier, but before he can take a closer look, Viv arrives at his office door.
"Messages for you," is all she says, but he notes and distantly appreciates the worry in her eyes. He nods, responding in the unspoken way only a few people understand, and takes the sheaf of papers from her hand.
The number on four of them is the same as the one on his cell.
He shoots Viv a curious glance, and she shrugs.
"Some politician's office." She turns her eyes to the package. "That came for you about ten minutes ago."
He nods again, she offers a smile, and then he is alone.
There is a return address on the package label, and as he reads it, Jack's mouth tightens and his shoulders tense. He rips it open, with no consideration for the careful packaging, and stares at the three novels that fall onto the desk.
His cell rings again, and he is suddenly and unreasonably furious.
"What?" he snaps into the receiver, and enjoys a moment of vicious pleasure at the silence from the other end.
Then, quietly but not as tentative as it once would have been, comes a voice Jack had hoped never to hear again.
"Jack? It's Martin. Martin Fitzgerald. Did you get the stuff?"
Jack closes his eyes as he listens to Martin's explanations. The lead weights of exhaustion are pulling at him, but he's not sure if it's because he hasn't had enough sleep, or if it's… just because.
"Why are you telling me?" Jack cuts in, stopping Martin dead. There is an odd pause, but Jack doesn't wait for a response. His eyes snap open again as anger and despair and failure take over. "You found her. You put her through hell and chased her away, and now you've found her, and so help me God, if you lay another finger on her I will – "
Martin's voice is sharper and more commanding than Jack could have imagined.
"Jack, I don't want the old argument. If you're not going to go to her, then I will." Martin draws a deep breath. "I just want her to know it's not all selfishness."
"What - " Jack begins, but there is nothing but a dial tone in his ear.
Slowly, he reaches out his free hand and picks up a photograph from under the books. It becomes slightly blurred as he tries to focus on it, but he can tell she looks just the same.
Very carefully, he sets it down, and then dials the number written on the message slips in Viv's almost indecipherable hand. On the second ring, a secretary answers.
"It's Jack Malone," he replies to her professional greeting. Oddly, his throat is tight. "Please tell Martin Fitzgerald I'm going."
End Chapter Six