Author's note: There's a touch of smut at the end of this chapter, it's not too graphic--definitely not NC-17 and I don't even think necessarily R. But I wanted to give ya'll a heads up.
In Natalie's absence the day before a lot of paperwork had piled up. Although she would be there late, even if she skipped lunch, part of her was grateful to be busy. The more she had to do the less time she could spend worrying over Jessica or analyzing her night with John. She had successfully focused herself so intently on work that she was only peripherally aware of what was going on around her. So she was quite perplexed when a paper bag plunked down on her desk. She looked up to see John standing in front of her desk. "What is that?" she asked.
"It's your lunch," he said making it sound as if this should have been obvious.
She shook her head not understanding, "It's not mine. I'm just going to grab one of those PowerBars Muñoz thinks he has hidden in the back of that cabinet."
He smiled slightly, "It's yours. I got it for you."
Natalie reached out for the bag for the first time. "You did?" she asked in surprise.
He shrugged, "I heard you say something about working through lunch and I thought about all the times you brought me food when I was working on something so I thought..."
She smiled broadly, "Thank you. That was very sweet of you." Any other day she would have stood up and hugged him, but they still hadn't talked about what had happened in his room that morning. Somehow, in light of this, physical contact seemed like it would be awkward. Instead she pulled a French fry out of the bag and bit off half of it
"How's Jess doing?" he asked slipping his hands into his pockets.
"Better," she said, "physically. She was asleep and I didn't want to bother her, so…"
"She's got great support," he said, "she'll get through this."
"She has to," Natalie said. She felt suddenly choked with tears again at the thought of what would happen if Jessica did not get through this; whatever "this" was. Don't cry, she told herself, not at work. Not in front of John. Not again. He's done enough. "I'll get your shirt back to you tomorrow," she said, changing the subject.
"Whenever," he said. He stood there looking intently at her. His gaze made her heart flutter, and she told herself she should stop that. Not now. Not with Jess in the hospital. But he wasn't making any motion to leave.
"Well," she said, taking another fry out of the bag, "back to work. No sense in working through lunch if you're not going to work."
"Yeah," he said, "I'll leave you alone. Just… you know if you need anything, you know where I am."
"Likewise," she replied. Well that was different, she thought to herself. And weird. And sweet. And infuriating and endearing all at once.
Michael McBain looked over the chart in his hands. There were so many things about being a doctor that he still wasn't used to; there were the things everybody talked about, the life and death stuff, losing patients. Then there was the stuff that was just weird, like looking at the chart of a patient, who was also a friend, and trying to stay clinical. To be honest, Jessica Buchanan was not his patient, but she was a patient, and something about the case didn't sit right. Well of course it didn't sit right to have a friend attempt suicide, but it was so unexpected. Jessica had always seemed so steady. There was no diagnosis on the chart, but he could tell she was being kept in the hospital for psychiatric rather than physical observation. Her physical injuries while significant were no longer a cause for real concern.
It was no wonder Natalie had been upset last night. And hardly surprising that she had wound up with John. What surprised him, was the pang of regret that he felt for not having been there for her himself. He was also surprised to discover himself wondering for the first time whether it had been Natalie taking advantage of the situation to get John's attention, or John taking advantage of the opportunity to give it. He wasn't sure why he felt this way, there was no reason for him to feel jealous, he wasn't interested in Natalie; most of the time he wasn't even sure that he liked her. Most of the time. It was simply that their night together, whatever it had been, had made him feel a connection to her he hadn't anticipated.
And for some reason the sight of her walking towards him made his pulse quicken, just a little. "She still okay?" she asked anxiously.
"Yeah," he said putting the chart away, "yeah, she's gonna be fine."
"Thank God," she said breathing out heavily in relief.
"How about you?" he asked.
"Me?" she said, sounding surprised, "yeah, I'm okay. Just a little rattled, you know."
"So did anything else not happen between you and my brother today?" he asked.
"No," she said, "well, actually, he brought me lunch, but-"
"He brought you lunch?" Michael raised his eyebrows, "and you didn't equate that with a marriage proposal?"
"I am not that bad," she protested.
"Today."
A guilty look washed over her face, "I have to confess something."
"You want me to get the hospital chaplain?" he volunteered.
She ignored his jibe, "You know how I told you that nothing happened last night?"
"You changed your mind?"
"He kissed me."
Michael looked at her skeptically, "He kissed you?"
"Yes," she said, "and I didn't say anything before because-"
"Okay, but what kind of kiss are we talking about?" he asked, slouching slightly more than usual to bring himself closer to her level. "Was it a friendly kiss 'good-bye' on the cheek? A brotherly kiss on the forehead?"
"Does he kiss you on the forehead?" Natalie asked wrinkling her nose.
"Not since I was a baby."
"It was a kiss," she told him, "on the mouth. It was a real kiss, but the thing is he thought I was asleep."
"You were faking?"
"Not exactly, but I didn't want to tell him that I was awake, so I didn't say anything. And of course he didn't say anything. So I don't have any idea what the whole thing meant."
"Well I'm glad you're at least admitting that," Michael said.
"It's just… yesterday he came tearing into the hospital because he somehow got the impression from Lois that I was the one being taken to the ER. Then he finds me last night, and he knew exactly what I needed, he was just so there for me. Then the kiss this morning and the bringing me lunch out of the blue…"
"It's all very sweet," Michael admitted, "but this doesn't necessarily mean he's interested in you. He hasn't done anything I wouldn't do for a friend."
"You kiss your friends like that a lot?"
"Well I don't know," he smirked, "are you and I friends?"
She shuttered, "Please don't bring that up."
"Okay," he said starting to walk away, "Just don't do anything crazy, okay?"
"I wasn't planning on it," she said hurrying after him, "and to prevent that, you're going to help me out."
"Oh really?" he asked turning back to her.
"Yeah," she said, trying to smile sweetly, "I need to find out your brother's perspective on things. And I think if I just confront him about it, things could easily get out of hand."
"Please tell me you're not going to ask me what I think you are," Michael said closing his eyes in dread.
"If you could just talk to him-"
"Does it occur to you what a bad choice I am for this?" he asked squinting at her slightly.
"You're the perfect choice," she insisted. "The only choice."
"Natalie," he said folding his arms, "I know you were very drunk last Thursday, but I also know you remember what happened between us."
"We've been through this," she said dropping her voice and looking around to make sure no one was listening to them, "You were thinking of another redhead, I was thinking of another McBain, so there really isn't anything between us."
"Disturbingly accurate as that is," he said, "I don't think I should be your recon man."
"You're the only one he talks to," she said grabbing his arm. "Please! To prevent another train wreck."
He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Okay," he said, "but only because it's likely to cause less chaos in Johnny's life than letting you handle it on your own."
"I knew you'd see the logic," she smiled. "I'm gonna go see if Jess is awake now. You'll get back to me after you talk to him then."
"Yeah," he said, "give Jessica my best."
She flashed him one more smile before opening the door to her sister's room.
Jessica was staring at the ceiling, but she turned and looked at Natalie when she came in. Natalie forced a smile and said, "Hey!" as cheerfully as she could manage.
"Hey," Jessica replied in a voice devoid of cheer or any discernable emotion at all.
"I just saw Michael," Natalie said, "He says you're going to be fine."
"So they tell me," Jessica said, turning her attention back to the mottled panels above her head.
Natalie sat down beside her. "So um… any chance of you telling me what's really going on?"
Jessica turned back to her, surprised at the directness. Surprised to have someone convey anything but artificial cheer to her. "What do you mean?" she asked.
"Well, I've known for a while that there was something wrong," Natalie began, "And I just… I didn't say anything because I was distracted by… other things. And then what happened yesterday… And obviously you need support and I figure the best way for me to start that is by getting you to tell me what's going on."
"Thank you, for wanting to help," Jessica said, "but I really don't think I can explain."
"Maybe you could just tell me what happened the other night," Natalie suggested.
"I don't remember," Jessica said.
"You don't remember-?" her sister began, not quite understanding how this was possible.
"I was getting ready for bed and then I was here," Jessica insisted, "Seriously, that's all I remember."
"Kind of like what happened with that fire at R.J.'s?" Natalie asked.
"Yeah," Jessica said softly.
Natalie looked at her sister for a moment, trying to decide how to say what she wanted to without sounding cruel. "Jessica," she finally said, "Don't get mad... I just kind of thought that when you said you didn't remember these things, that you were just saying that. That there was something else you were hiding. But you're telling me that you really don't remember how these things happened?"
Jessica felt guilty, knowing her sister felt bad accusing her of hiding something when the truth was she was hiding something. She thought briefly of telling Natalie, but dismissed the idea immediately, the last thing Natalie needed was to add her DID to her long list of crises. "I just black out," she said, "It's like I'm sleepwalking."
"You think that's what happened the other night?" Natalie pressed, "You think you were sleepwalking when you jumped out of the window?"
"I don't know," Jessica said trying not to sound too fed up with discussing this, but hoping Natalie would take the hint and drop it.
"What does Dr... what's his name?"
"Jamison."
"What does Dr. Jamison say about it?"
Dr. Jamsion knew exactly what was going on, but she couldn't let Natalie know. "We're going to start meeting more regularly," she said.
"Okay," Natalie said, still fighting to find the words for what she needed to say, "do you remember a couple years ago, how this started happening to me? All these things I couldn't remember, black outs-"
"That was Niki Smith," Jessica said, "She was trying to make you think you had DID so she could get you out of her way."
"I know," she said, "It's just this all sounds so much like everything that happened back then. I hate to suggest this, but-"
"You think someone's trying to make me think I have DID? You think one of Mom's alters is back?"
"Well I guess it doesn't have to be Niki Smith, it could be someone else. What about R.J.?"
"You haven't told mom about this theory, have you?" Jessica asked sitting up and wincing at the pain in her ribs.
"No," Natalie said, "I don't want to upset her but...can you come up with any other explanation?"
"I really do have DID," Jessica said softly, relaxing back against the pillows.
"Jessica, I know what you're going through," Natalie insisted, "but DID is not hereditary, there's no way you have-"
"Natalie, listen to me," Jessica said firmly, "I have DID. It's not a suspicion, it's real."
Natalie stared at her, either not comprehending or not wanting to, "You're sure?"
"Tess," Jessica said sighing unexpectedly with relief. She couldn't believe how good it felt to actually tell someone herself; to have one less person she didn't have to dread discovering her secret. "That's her name; my alter. I've um… Had a couple encounters with her. And she is…"
"Wait," Natalie said, "last Friday morning when Rex and I were sitting in the kitchen and you came staggering in, you were supposed to be out with Antonio but you weren't."
Jessica shook her head, "I don't remember that. I know I stood Antonio up, I got his voicemails the next morning, but I don't remember the night before. It must have been her."
"My God, Jess," Natalie said, "How long has this been going on?"
"A while now," she said, "At least six months or so."
"And you haven't told anyone?"
"Todd figured it out," Jessica said. "And Dr. Jamison, of course."
"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Natalie asked, "I mean it must have been awful going around knowing that and trying to hide it."
"I tried to tell Mom," Jessica said, "Well, Todd tried to make Tess tell her. It almost killed her."
"The heart attack," Natalie said understanding.
"And she threatened to kill Antonio if I told him," she continued. "So I just tried to lock her in. But obviously I can't. She's so strong…" Jessica's voice cracked and she trailed off.
Natalie took her hand, "So are you."
Jessica shook her head, "Not nearly strong enough."
"Well we'll just have to make you then," Natalie said. "I figure the best way for you to fight her is to make yourself as strong as possible."
"I just don't know how," Jessica said.
Natalie shrugged. "We'll figure it out."
Michael McBain took a deep breath and knocked on the door, wondering for the 78th time at least how Natalie had talked him into this. No, she hadn't. He wasn't here to gather information for Natalie; he was here to get his movies back. That was all. If he and John happened to start talking about how the movies had gotten here in the first place and Natalie's name just happened to come up... well it would just be a coincidence.
John answered the door with a bottle of beer in his hand. "Hey Mikey, what's up?" he said.
"I need to report a crime, actually," Michael said, trying to look serious.
"Really?" his brother said sounding somewhat surprised but not overly concerned.
"Yeah, I think someone broke into my room last night."
John held back a smile, "Anything taken?"
"That's the really weird thing," Michael said, looking perplexed, "the only thing they took was a bunch of tapes and DVDs. And it wasn't even the ones you'd expect them to take; it was just a bunch of B horror movies and stuff like that."
"Hmm," John said thoughtfully, "Who do you suppose would do something like that?"
"I don't know," Michael grinned, "but I have a hunch it might've been my big brother and a certain redhead."
John cocked his head to the side and looked at him curiously, "How'd you know about that?"
"I ran into Natalie this morning in the hallway," Michael said. Then narrowing his eyes slightly he added, "I have to admit, when I saw her sneaking out of your room this morning, I was kind of surprised to find out you'd just been watching movies."
John didn't respond to this insinuation; he turned away and gave Michael room to enter his room. "You come to get your movies back?"
"Might be nice," he said. "I actually just saw Natalie at the hospital. She was visiting Jess."
"How is Jess?" John asked collecting the movies.
"I think she's gonna be all right," Michael said, "She's got lots of supportive family. Speaking of which, you might want to be careful with Natalie."
John frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, you know, she's really upset about what happened with Jess," Michael said, "She's kind of vulnerable and when that happens she tends to turn to you."
"So?" John asked, handing a stack of tapes to Michael.
"You just don't want Natalie to misinterpret something that you do as a friend," Michael said as he dropped two of the tapes off the stack. "She still has feelings for you, you know, so when you do things like bring her lunch or kiss her-"
"She told you about that?" John asked in surprise.
"Yeah," Michael said, "and you can just imagine what's going through her head right now."
John didn't respond he just pursed his lips in thought.
"So what did you mean by it," Michael pushed.
"I don't know, Mikey," he admitted, "it just…right then… it felt right."
"Really?" Michael said sounding slightly irritated, "and how do you feel about Natalie right now?"
"I feel… like she deserves a whole hell of a lot better than me," John said running a hand through his hair.
"Yeah, I didn't ask how you felt about yourself," Michael said, "because fortunately for guys like us and unfortunately for girls like Natalie, Marcie, and Evangeline love doesn't work on a merit system."
"I don't know, Mikey," he sighed, "I don't even know what I'm feeling."
"Well if Natalie was here right now, instead of me, would you still have the urge to kiss her?"
"I've been fighting that urge for a long time man," John said softly.
"Well maybe you should stop fighting it," Michael said walking towards the door, "before she realizes she deserves better than the likes of you."
He let the door shut behind him, secretly hoping he'd left John in a bit of turmoil over the situation. As if Michael needed to do anything to prompt that. When he was out of earshot from his brother's door he pulled out his cell phone.
"Hello?" her voice said sounding surprised at his call.
"You win," he said.
"What?" she asked.
"That recon mission you sent me on. You win."
"I don't understand," she said.
"I just left his room. I got the answer you wanted; the one I told you repeatedly you weren't gonna get. So you win."
"Really?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, "I mean he's as mixed up as ever, so you might want to have a chat with him yourself, but…"
"Thank you, Michael," she said quickly. "Thank you so much."
"Don't," he said shutting the phone. He knew her well enough to know that wherever she was, Natalie was throwing on a low cut top and fixing her lipstick, preparing to rush over to John's room.
There was a knock at the door. Without thinking to ask who it was or look through the peephole he walked to the door and flung it open. It was Natalie. She must have come running up the steps because she looked flushed and out of breath. In her eyes was a look of nervousness mingled with fear mingled with need. Her mouth moved as though she was about to say something, but suddenly she grabbed the back of his head and pulled his lips down to hers. The kiss was forceful, but soft. And overpowering. He didn't fight it and when she released him he took half a step back, trying to recapture the breath she had just stolen. For her part Natalie looked even more breathless and shocked at her own boldness. Again she struggled to speak, to find the words to explain why she was here, what they needed to talk about. He leaned against the doorframe for a half a moment taking in her presence, processing what was happening, and then for once without thinking about it put a hand behind her head and gently pulled her to him, drowning whatever words she was trying to form with a kiss.
She stumbled into him and he savored the sensation of her body brushing against his as he pulled his head up and looked down on her. She was still breathing hard and trembling slightly; she made no move towards him or to pull away. He bent to kiss her again, softly gently. Still she did not move but she allowed him to pull her into the room with him. He reached a hand over her head and pushed the door shut. He knew he should stop. She seemed to have come here to talk; this was probably not what she'd had in mind. But he continued kissing her, pulling her against him, until finally whatever fear had been holding her back dissolved and she gave into the kiss, kissing him back with a growing intensity.
In a quick motion he stooped and brought his left hand under her knees so that she collapsed in his arms. Without moving his lips from hers he carried her to the bed and lay her down gently, positioning himself above her and gently pushing her legs apart with one knee. Breaking contact with her mouth for the first time in ages he raised himself enough that he could look into her face. She was still trembling and there was still a hint of fear in her eyes, but it was over powered now by need. He brushed the hair back from her forehead; he wanted to reassure her, to somehow rid her eyes of that trace of fear.
"Natalie," he said softly.
She raised her hand to his lips. "Shh," she whispered, "don't stop. Please, don't stop."
Stopping was the last thing he wanted to do. He grasped her hand in his, running her fingers over his lips before pushing it gently back down to the bed. Easing the rest of his weight down upon her he nuzzled her neck while tracing the outline of her body with his hands. When he reached the hem of her shirt he grasped it in both hands and pulled it up. Natalie raised her shoulders up to help him pull the shirt over her head. As he ran his hands over the now bare skin at her waist she fumbled for the buttons on his shirt. Her right leg curled around him. There were still things they needed to talk about—so many problems which would still be there in the morning. But it was wordlessly understood that they were both content to let them wait until then.
To be continued.