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An Off Day
All Without A Trace characters belong to Hank Steinberg and the folks with Jerry Bruckheimer Television in association with Warner Bros. Television and CBS Productions. I'm borrowing them for a while; no infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.
Thanks again to my betas, Carol and TAE for keeping the characters true and the writing tight.
3pm Tuesday
"Hi," Anne said, walking into his office.
"Hi," Jack replied, settling back into his chair and fiddling with his pen.
"Have you decided what you're doing tomorrow? One day just doesn't seem enough time."
"I agree, too short to go to Chicago for the day to see the girls. I thought I'd go to storage. I've gotta do it, I've just been putting it off."
"Oh, okay, well, if you want to get together for dinner, give me a call."
"I will, either way," he replied, returning his gaze to the open folder in front of him.
"Hey?"
Jack looked up.
"Think about sleeping in, would you?"
"Yeah, it's on my list."
"Take care."
"I will, thanks."
Anne left his office and Jack shifted in his chair to return his concentration to the paperwork on his desk. He had arrived early, realizing that he needed to get a head start before the team came in at nine. They had just finished finding a young man who had wandered away from his group home. Thankfully, it was a happy ending, but he had been missing for more than five days and the paperwork was brutal.
5:00pm
"Jack?"
"Hi, Viv," he said, looking up to see her on the other side of his desk.
"I'm heading out. Do you need anything else from me?"
"No, I'm set. I just have to finish the last of these reports and get them into Van Doren's box; then I can go home."
"Did Tyler call you?"
"Yeah, he's coming up tonight but he isn't sure about his schedule, tomorrow. I've already got some things planned that I've been putting off."
"Okay, take care and maybe eat something tonight!"
"What?" he looked up at her.
"You missed lunch again, today."
"I did?"
Vivian looked at him, realizing that he really was unaware that he hadn't eaten. She shook her head and smiled before leaving him alone.
Jack continued to work, losing himself in the morass of paperwork until his cell phone interrupted him.
"Malone."
"Hey, it's Tyler."
"Hey, yourself. Are you in town?"
"I'm on Amtrak, actually got a ticket on the Acela and arrive in a couple of hours or so to Penn Station, that is if the train's on time. Look, I hate to spring this on you, but Phoebe screwed up and I don't have a hotel room. Can I crash at your place?"
"Sure, whatever you need."
"Are you still at the office?"
"Yeah, I have to finish these reports before I can go."
"Should I meet you there?"
"Call me when you get in. Maybe I'll be done and we can meet at Frank's. I missed lunch."
"Typical, Malone. Okay, I'll call you."
"Bye."
"Bye."
Jack closed his phone and slipped it back into his trouser pocket before returning his attention to the slowly dwindling stack of paperwork in front of him.
Cracking his neck, Jack stood for the first time in over four hours, feeling the familiar pain in his left knee. He moved his leg slowly as the mobility began to return. As he did so, his cell phone rang.
"Malone."
"Hi, I'm at Penn. So, what, Frank's in thirty minutes?"
"Yeah, that should work. Remember, they moved; sixteenth between ninth and tenth, closer to ninth."
"Thanks, see you soon."
"Bye," Jack replied, closing his phone.
He gathered his finished reports and walked out into the hallway to put them in Van Doren's box. Heading back to his office, he made sure everything was secure before he left for the garage.
The drive was short and he was able to park on the street. Walking into the restaurant, he smiled at Steve, the bartender, and then looked for Tyler. As usual, he was surrounded by two attractive women.
"Hey, man," Tyler called, spotting Jack at the end of the long walnut bar.
"Hey," Jack replied, walking up to him.
They embraced as they always did when it had been a long time since they had seen each other. Steve put Jack's scotch and water on the bar.
"Thanks, Steve."
Steve waved in acknowledgement as he looked down the bar for a new customer.
"Jack, this is Jennifer and Patty. They work across the street at Milk Studios. Girls, this is Jack."
"Hi," Jack said, shaking the women's hands.
They returned his greeting as he took a sip of his drink. Jack sat on a stool and smiled as Tyler flirted with the two women. After another round of drinks, they politely excused themselves and left the restaurant.
"Nice girls," Tyler commented, sipping his whiskey.
"Yes."
"Not really interested in us, were they?"
"No, but they were nice."
"You fellas gonna eat at the bar?" Steve asked.
"Sure," Tyler replied.
"You know what you want?"
"May I have the sliced steak, Block potatoes for two, and the asparagus." Tyler requested.
"Steamed asparagus?"
"Yes, please."
"And for you?"
"The veal parmesan on linguini, please."
"Okay," Steve replied, turning to the cash register/computer to enter their order.
"You look tired," Tyler commented.
"I am."
"What are you doing tomorrow, besides sleeping?"
"I have to sort through my storage unit. Between the divorce and my Dad's death, I just haven't done it."
"I might be able to help you in the afternoon, if you want. I have a nine, a lunch and a two o'clock."
Jack remained silent, looking into his drink.
"I'll call you," Tyler said.
Dinner came and they ate quickly. The conversation was short and sporadic as both men felt their energy draining. Paying the bill, they headed out to Jack's car. Jack handed him the car keys and Tyler put his suit bag in the trunk.
"Mind driving?"
"Okay," Tyler said, getting into the driver's seat.
Twenty minutes later, Tyler was finessing into a parking spot down the block from Jack's apartment. Jack was quiet, not sleeping, but eyes closed.
"Let's go, Malone."
Jack opened his eyes and then the car door. Slowly, he got out of the car and stood still, leaning back onto the vehicle.
"You okay?" Tyler asked, retrieving his suit bag.
"Yeah, my knee's just acting up."
"This wet fall weather isn't helping, I'm sure. I'll work on it, if you want."
Jack smiled before limping up the stairs to unlock the outside door of his apartment building. Slipping his keys into his pocket, he let Tyler lead the way up the stairs. Tyler had paid for part of his Columbia education as a licensed masseur. He was trained in physical therapy and shiatsu. After Jack's initial injury during his second year as an agent, Tyler had helped when the pain got too much. Taking his set of house keys from his jacket, Tyler headed up the three flights of stairs, hearing his friend's slow, uneven, footsteps behind him. Unlocking the apartment door, Tyler left it open before heading to the guest room to put his suit bag on the bed.
Jack entered his apartment, shut and locked the door, removed his electronics, gun and holster, loosened his tie, and continued to limp to his bedroom. Hanging up his suit and tie, he dropped his shirt into the dry-cleaning bag and slipped on a pair of shorts and a zip-up hooded sweatshirt. He walked back into the living room to see Tyler standing in the kitchen, in his shirtsleeves, making two drinks.
"Sit on the sofa; left leg on the coffee table, pillow under the knee," Tyler instructed.
Jack obliged, barely suppressing a groan when he put his leg on the table. Walking into the living room, Tyler handed Jack his drink and then gently laid an ice bag wrapped in a kitchen towel over Jack's knee. Taking a sip of his drink, Jack rocked his head back onto the sofa cushion, realizing that the liquid was almost straight scotch. Ella Fitzgerald began to sing softly after Tyler turned on the stereo. Ten minutes later, Tyler removed the ice pack from Jack's knee and looked at it closely for the first time.
"What did you do?" Tyler asked, gently probing with his fingertips.
"Our missing person stopped taking his meds and left his group home. We found him yesterday. He charged me and we both went down a flight of stairs. No big deal; he thought I was a grizzly bear, apparently," he replied, eyes closed, smiling slightly.
"Did you go to the hospital?"
"No, EMS checked the both of us. He dislocated his shoulder, I bruised my knee."
Tyler continued to gently touch Jack's swollen knee.
"Do you want me to see if I can get it to loosen up at all?"
"Honestly, I'm too tired to care. Can we do it tomorrow?" Jack asked, opening his eyes.
"Sure, if you're up at eight, I'll work on it before my first meeting."
"Thanks," Jack said, shifting his leg off of the coffee table.
He put his glass down and stood, rocking slightly. Tyler put a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder to steady him before he picked up the glasses and ice pack.
"Night," Jack said, his voice low and rumbly.
"Night," Tyler said, heading to the kitchen before turning out the lights and stereo and following Jack to bed.
Jack walked into his bedroom, flipped the lights on, and shut the door. Heading to the bathroom, he opened the medicine cabinet. Removing a prescription bottle, he looked at it for a moment before returning it to the shelf, choosing instead the plain aspirin. He shook out six tablets, filled a glass with water and swallowed them three at a time. Walking back into the bedroom, he switched on the bedside light, before walking to the door to turn off the overhead. He unzipped his sweatshirt and tossed it on the chair, and then carefully got into bed. Extending his arm, he turned off the lamp and started his relaxation exercises, trying to turn off his mind and stop the pain.