One Simple Phone Call

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Red Eye!

Summary: What was Jackson thinking when he found the help message on the mirror? Not a bathroom re-do.

What in hell was taking Lisa so long in the bathroom? Had she found a way out or committed suicide? No, Lisa Reisert was hardly the suicidal type. She was too interested in preserving life.

The phone in front of Jackson Rippner lit up.

Where was she?

Jackson was sick of waiting in his seat for her to return. He calmly left row 18 behind and strode down the cramped aisle to the bathroom. He stood outside, waiting patiently for her to open the blasted door so that he could get her to make the phone call. One simple phone call that she kept finding excuses to escape from.

"I was wondering—" Jackson began when the flustered Lisa opened the door. He stopped speaking as he noticed the writing on the mirror.

That little bitch! She would pay.

Jackson rushed the partially opened door, shoving Lisa back inside the confines of the bathroom, and closed the door again. He did not care if anyone saw him—he just wanted to remove the message and teach Lisa a lesson.

With his strong arms, Jackson pinned Lisa against the wall and covered her mouth, effectively muffling her screams.

"Don't fight me. You're all worked up from being so creative…" he told her.

"Hey, Rebecca," came a friendly voice from outside the bathroom. Jackson turned his head around and froze.

The voices outside faded and Jackson jerked Lisa from her seated position on the closed toilet and pressed her back against the wall.

"Please," she begged him, her brown eyes close to tears. "Just stop whoever's outside my dad's house."

Now, she cared about her father! Why couldn't she just do the right thing and cooperate? Was it really that hard to make a simple phone call? She probably did not even know Keefe, so why did she care if he died?

"I already have by twice intercepting these little communiqués. You know if they'd fallen into the hands of the by-the-book stewardess, she'd have gone straight to the cockpit and we'd have landed somewhere else," Jackson tried to impress upon her the seriousness of the situation. It was not just her life and her father's life on the line by his hands, but also his career and his life, if he failed. "And if that happens, Leese, our guy in the BMW's going to know about it. So, do your dad a favor and stop gambling with his life!"

They exchanged glances for a few moments; both rattled by the goings-on of the red eye and the impending assassination of Keefe. Lisa was trembling in his grip and he could feel everything little tremor or movement that she made while his hand was pressed on her throat.

"You don't have to do this…any of this…" Lisa begged him again. She was expecting that he actually had a choice in what was happening, when in reality, he was just as much a prisoner and victim as she was. If she didn't make the phone call and Keefe didn't die—then he was dead too.

Jackson breathed deeply a few times, enjoying the fear that he could see in her flickering eyes. His fingers felt something odd and he looked down, noticing a raised scar above her breast.

"Did someone do that to you?" he questioned quietly. Even after all the time he had followed her, he had failed to notice this mark, where someone had hurt her. Unless Lisa had inflicted the wound upon herself…

"No…" she whispered and Jackson knew that she would never have done it herself. Someone had hurt her. Who? When? Why?

"Is that what it is?"

"No…" she repeated, somewhat firmer, but her voice was still shaky. She was clearly unnerved.

Liar.

Why did she have to lie? Why couldn't she just admit that something bad happened to her? Jackson was fed up with her lies.

"You know what I think?" Jackson challenged, spinning her around and throwing her against the sink beside the mirror, all the while tightening his grasp upon her slender throat with both hands. "You know what I think? I think you're not such an honest person. Because I followed you for eight weeks now and I never once saw you order anything but a fucking Seabreeze!"

Lisa struggled in his grasp and he wanted to smile. He had shown weakness a moment before when he had seen her scar. He wanted to know who had marked her in that way, but now, now he did not care. He just had to prove to her that he was in charge of her life and that he was free to take it, whether she made the phone call or not.

"I can't breathe…" she gasped. "I can't breathe!"

Jackson held on for a few more seconds, squeezing more air from her, before releasing her and stepping back. He watched her gasp and choke while he tried to calm himself and lose the anger coursing through his veins.

"I never lied to you, Leese. Know why?" Jackson spoke as he began to clean the mirror. It was time to straighten a few things out between them—set her straight on his priorities. "Because it doesn't serve me. We're both professionals, if we have the will and means to follow through. If we don't, our customers aren't happy and when they're not, we suffer, and our lives go to shit."

Jackson threw the last wad of soapy paper towels away and placed his hand on Lisa's cheek, forcing her to look at him. "And that's not gonna happen. Is it?"

"No…" breathed Lisa, finally starting to understand how desperate he was to get the job done.

"Good. Because, I'm going to tell you the phones are working again. Are you sure we got a deal this time?

Lisa nodded her head slightly and Jackson questioned her, "Huh?"

"Yes," she clarified.

"Peachy," said Jackson, enjoyed being so close to her, in her face. Scaring her was fun, but being around her, well…he couldn't begin to describe it. It was almost a shame that she hated him and that he would probably have to kill her at the end of the job.

He let go her, stepped back and looked in the mirror. "Well, thanks for the quickie," he said, placing his hand upon her face before gently tapping it. Jackson quickly moved away, opening the door and stepping outside.

"Come on," he called anxiously as he checked outside, praying that no one saw them coming out together. Sure, no one would suspect that he had done anything except have sex with her in the bathroom, but he did not want anyone getting any ideas or putting anything together. Getting caught was not part of the plan.

Author's Notes:

Hope everyone enjoys this terrible mess of a one-shot. I had to give it a shot. EDITED on Saturday, June 26th, 2010. I finally fixed the liked/lied line.