Chapter 3

Tissue paper crackled noisily as Shalimar folded the mocha brown belted jacket around it and slipped it into her bag on top of the matching slacks. The idea of the paper was to keep the suede from wrinkling too much. It would have been better off in a garment bag, but she didn't want to be weighed down with anything more than a single carry-on bag. She would only be in San Francisco for a couple of days, after all, and it wasn't as though she needed an array of fancy outfits. For sure she didn't need to impress anyone.

Still, she had dithered for quite a while before deciding on this particular suit as the outfit she would wear to the attorney's office. Why it should matter one way or the other was something she hadn't tried to figure out. Her mother probably figured she would show up in either biker's leathers or something made from animal skins. Whatever. The suit was stylish, the fit was tailored, and the color looked good on her. She would look every inch the mature, confident woman she was. That was enough. Shalimar absently smoothed a pair of wrinkles from the rich fabric and closed the bag.

A tantalizing aroma wafted into the room, warm and familiar. She turned, an affectionate glow lighting her face. Jesse Kilmartin stood in the doorway holding two large, steaming mugs by their handles. She came to meet him as he moved toward her and carefully took the one he extended to her. A fond smile touched her lips.

"Hot chocolate," she murmured, "Boy, does this bring back memories."

They were good memories, too, at least most of them. Back in the early days it had been just the two of them, each loners in their own way: Shalimar, wild and undisciplined, longing for acceptance yet isolated by the fear her abilities generated in those around her; Jesse, shy and sensitive, hiding from the world behind a computer. Thrown together for long hours as Adam Kane taught them how to come to terms with their conditions, they gradually started reaching out to each other. The hot chocolate became their touchstone. It was hard to remember now just which one started their private little ritual, but it became a habit between them after a long or particularly grueling training session that one would make a pot of the steaming beverage and take it to the other's room. There they would sit and talk for hours on end about anything and everything, sharing hopes and fears sometimes late into the night, or at least until Adam shooed them back to their separate rooms – and even then, Jesse sometimes phased back through the wall as soon as the coast was clear. Oddly enough, though they formed a strong emotional bond, there was never a particularly strong sexual attraction between them. Perhaps it was because Shalimar knew instinctively that she needed someone who could keep up with her in a way that the molecular never could, or perhaps it was because Jesse was still reeling emotionally from the breakup of an engagement to his high school sweetheart. Whatever the reason, the platonic nature of their relationship was an understood thing between them that neither thought to question, a unique connection forged in battle and shared internal scars. In recent years their little ritual fell by the wayside as they matured and gained confidence, and the addition of Brennan and Emma De Lauro changed the team dynamic, but their special bond remained, and both treasured it.

Shalimar curled up into her padded wicker round chair. Jesse settled himself against her desk, crossing his ankles. Wisps of smoke wreathed his face as he regarded her over the top of his mug.

"Those were the days, weren't they?"

"Those were the days," she agreed. She took a hesitant sip, wincing as she burned her tongue. "We were just a couple of confused, messed-up kids, and all we had was each other. And Adam, too, of course, but not being a mutant himself, he really couldn't understand what we were going through, the changes happening in our minds and bodies. It was a special time."

She took another tentative sip, sniffed, and cocked her head quizzically.

"This doesn't taste or smell the way I remember it."

He smiled. "That's because I added an extra ingredient that Adam would have seriously frowned upon – Bailey's Irish Cream. We're not kids anymore, and I thought you could use it."

She nodded approvingly and brought the cup once more to her lips. Now that it was cooling a little and her taste buds had recovered from that first scalding sip, she could taste the fine liqueur. It tasted good. A soothing warmth settled in her belly and started to spread. "You're right. Adam would have had kittens."

He chuckled and took a swallow from his own mug. They drank in companionable silence for a couple of minutes. Then Jesse lowered his drink, his eyes narrowed appraisingly.

"How do you feel about this?"

She didn't have to ask what he was talking about. She lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug.

"I'm fine."

"Liar."

Startled eyes flashed up to meet his.

"Hey - this is me," he reminded her gently, "I know the story. And I know you."

"Then you know that I'm not doing this for myself," she shot back accusingly, "You're the ones who want me to go."

Jesse shook his head. "We just gave you the excuse you needed."

"I wasn't looking for an excuse!"

He set his mug on the desk.

"One of the things we agreed upon in the very beginning was to be honest with each other," he said seriously, "To call things as we saw them. And what I see is that deep down inside you there's still a terrified little girl huddling in a corner needing to understand why."

"Understand why a supposedly loving mother had her ten year old daughter tackled by four cops, wrestled to the floor and dragged out of her home in a straitjacket?" Shalimar set her mug down on the small round table next to the chair with enough impetus to make some of the chocolate slosh out. The strength of the emotions roiling inside took her by surprise. One would have thought that the worst of the pent-up bitterness would have been released earlier when she lost control in Brennan's arms. Evidently not. She sprang to her feet and started prowling her room like an agitated tiger, as if she suddenly couldn't bear to be still. "Why she was locked up in an institution like some kind of animal? Why her parents sanctioned drugs and repeated beatings to try to force me into their definition of 'normal'?"

Jesse absorbed the storm quietly, aching for the pure pain which, despite the mental toughness he always admired in her, he could see bleeding from her every pore.

"Yes," he said simply.

She whirled on him, wire-tense and looking ready to fight or flee. Then all at once the tension melted. Her shoulders sagged wearily.

"Maybe you're right," she sighed. She walked slowly back to the table, picked up her cup and stared into the brown depths. One finger reached out and slowly traced the rim, circling and circling while she gathered her thoughts and recognized the truth of his words. "Maybe it is time I got some of those questions answered."

"I think so."

"Get some closure."

"Or some peace. I just don't think you can look ahead if you're always looking back."

Her head snapped around and she peered at him sharply. What did he mean by that? But her molecular brother-in-spirit returned her look mildly. He just picked up his mug again and took a satisfying swallow.

Could Jesse have known that she sought out Brennan after viewing the message from her mother? Guessed, perhaps, although he didn't say anything when they came in for lunch. Well, so what? It wasn't as if there was anything going on between them. It was only a matter of trust, just as Brennan said. And yet…did she want it to be more? Was she subconsciously looking to take their relationship to the next level? She thought of how good it felt to be in his arms, to be held and comforted, to feel safe and ….home? And then later …she almost blushed to remember the way her pulse had quickened and her nerves started tingling from head to toe when he leaned over her to retrieve a fresh shirt. It had been all she could do not to flatten her hands on his broad chest and let them roam freely across his sleek skin, exploring the flat plains and sculpted contours of hard muscle rippling beneath. His scent had been so….the word arousing came to mind, but she quickly discarded it in favor of unsettling which, upon reflection, wasn't a whole lot better. Stop it! she commanded herself. This was not the time to try to sort out her tangled thoughts on that subject. She had more immediate things to deal with.

Jesse hid a secret smile. His non-related sister was one flustered feral, and he didn't think it was just the prospect of this trip that was disturbing her. He was beginning to see what Lexa was talking about. The fiery brunette had been insisting for a week that something was going on between Shalimar and Brennan. Jesse had been slow to see it because outwardly their behavior hadn't seemed all that different to him. Lately, though, he had been noticing a change in the way Brennan looked at her in unguarded moments, although Shalimar seemed oblivious. Or maybe not. She sure jumped when he mentioned looking ahead. Was she starting to think of a future with the big elemental? He hoped so. He always assumed that eventually the two of them would get together; a blind man could see how well they fit. Maybe it was happening now. If so, it was nothing short of Providence that led her mother to contact her at this time. Shalimar needed to get past some things before the relationship could move forward, and if that was what they wanted, they had better get a move on. With the Dominion lurking in the background plotting who-knew-what, there was no telling how much time any of them had left.

The silence stretched between them. Shalimar used a couple of tissues to wipe up the spilled chocolate, then sank back into her chair, mug in hand. She drank the cooling beverage without seeming to taste it, so lost in thought was she. Jesse decided to nudge her out of her reverie.

"So are you all packed? Got your plane tickets and everything?"

She nodded. "My flight leaves tomorrow morning at nine."

"Almost the crack of dawn for you."

Her face twisted in an exaggerated grimace. "Not 'almost' when you consider what time I have to get up to get there and get through security and everything. Brennan is going to drive me to the airport."

"You know I'd be glad to fly you out in the Helix. I know how antsy you get when you're cooped up or in a crowd."

She smiled over the rim of her cup. "Brennan already made that offer. But it doesn't make sense to have to make two round-trip flights, and Lexa says the Dominion bean counters are starting to squeal about unnecessary expenses. Besides, the distraction will probably be a good thing – keep me from thinking too much. I'll be okay."

"Unless one of the security people gets a little too frisky with the pat-down."

That brought a chuckle. "There is that. Just make sure you have enough cash on hand for bail."

"Done."

They finished their drinks at about the same time. Jesse held out his hand to take her empty mug. She rose and gave it to him, and then leaned in close to brush his cheek with her lips. His expression was soft and questioning when she pulled away.

"For the chocolate," she explained, and he could see that her eyes were misting a little, "And the Bailey's. But most of all for your patience, honesty and understanding. I know it couldn't have been easy, especially in those early days. I don't know what I would have done without you. You accepted my wild streak."

"And you brought me out of my shell." Jesse returned the kiss warmly and enfolded her in a hug, somewhat hampered by the mugs in his hands. She didn't mind a bit. They parted slowly, each aglow with the specialness of the moment and the renewal of a relationship that was unique and precious to both of them. He released her reluctantly and gazed into her deep brown eyes.

"I know how hard this is going to be for you," he said softly, "But there's something else I want you to remember. You were just a kid when all this went down. There may have been more going on than you knew."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. What I do know is that relationships with parents are complicated things. Kids grow up, after all. Perceptions change."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I'm just saying – don't be so fixated on the past that you can't accept anything else. Try to be open to possibilities."

She looked away. A shudder ran through her as she seemed to be fighting some internal battle. When she turned back to Jesse it was with haunted eyes filled with the ghosts of her past.

"I'll …try."

"That's my girl."

The ride to the airport the next morning was accomplished in relative silence, with only the barest smattering of small talk, for which Shalimar could only be grateful. She was tense enough as it was. Nor did Brennan get on her nerves by repeatedly glancing over at her; he kept his eyes on the road and his mouth shut, although occasionally she could see a muscle twitch around his tightened jaw. Presently he pulled the Mustang up to the terminal into a temporary parking space. He parked, and the two climbed out. All around other passengers were clambering out of cars and fumbling with luggage. Brennan popped the Mustang's trunk latch and walked to the rear of the vehicle to retrieve her carry-on bag. Shalimar met him there, and as he opened the lid she noticed another dark shape in the trunk.

"Going somewhere?" she asked, gesturing at the black zippered shoulder bag. There was an ominous undertone in her voice.

He shrugged. "That's up to you."

Shalimar felt her hackles start to rise. She knew it. One lousy little loss of control, and now Brennan was going all protective on her. He was planning to go with her, as if she was porcelain or something. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was to be hovered over. Her temper, already on edge because of this trip, flashed.

"I don't need a babysitter, Brennan!"

"I'm not offering one," he said evenly, "Just moral support and another shoulder."

"Yeah? That's not what it looks like."

She reached in and snatched her bag's handle. His big hand closed over her small one, stopping her from removing it.

"Shal."

She impaled him with a look that dripped icicles. He met it squarely.

"You can't expect me to see you hurting and not want to do something to help," he said earnestly, "I'm allowed that. But I also know that all I can do is make the offer. It's up to you to decide whether or not to accept it."

He relaxed his hand, releasing hers.

Shalimar's fingers slid unconsciously from the handle as the full import of his words penetrated. Her anger evaporated, to be replaced with a dawning wonder. She expected him to argue, to get defensive, even to try to guilt her into letting him accompany her. He did none of those things. He just laid the offer before her, simple and straightforward – I'm here if you want me, no offense if you don't. Your choice.

But there was more to it than that. She could read in his body language that he badly wanted to go with her, to be there for her as he had the previous night, but he also understood that she needed her space. Without any prompting from her he restrained his natural, and sometimes overbearing, protective instincts and set a boundary for himself that respected her independence. They had long been partners in battle, with the equality the term described, but now he was demonstrating that equality on a much more personal level. That he could do that for her, put his own desires aside in such a way, made her heart swell. He didn't know it, but he had just given her a gift more precious than diamonds. Her eyes grew moist. Brennan saw it.

"What?" he said gently, "Why are you so surprised? I'm a profound and sensitive guy, remember?"

That made her smile tremulously.

"And humble. I forgot."

He reached in and pulled the bag from the trunk, balancing it on the lip until she grasped the handle. He must have been carrying a full charge because her hand tingled when it brushed his in the exchange, although she never actually saw a spark. He released the bag but didn't stray far, his fingers resting lightly on the leather case.

"So what's the verdict?"

She hesitated. The last thing she wanted to do was to blow him off with an automatic response. His offer, and the fortitude it took to make it in the manner he had, demanded her respect and genuine consideration. She lifted her eyes to meet his.

"It's just for a couple of days," she said softly, "I'll be fine."

His head nodded once in acceptance. He had been pretty sure that she would decline his offer; he even thought he knew at least part of the reason why. But he had to be sure. One big hand cupped her face tenderly.

"You don't ever have to be afraid or embarrassed to show your emotions," he whispered huskily, "Not with me. You know that, don't you?"

She turned her head slightly and pressed a soft kiss into his palm. It trembled beneath her lips.

"I know it," she answered, her eyes glittering, "It's not about that. It's just ….. I feel – I know – I need to do this alone. You can understand that, can't you?"

"I understand. I've been there, too."

She stepped forward and hugged him with her available arm. He squeezed her in return, then released her. She swung her bag around and started for the terminal doors.

"Shal."

She turned.

"If you need to talk, call me. Any time, day or night."

She smiled.

"I will."

She started forward once again, the terminal's plexiglass doors opening in welcome. Brennan just stood there, watching her go. It wasn't until long after she was out of sight that he closed the trunk, climbed into the car and slowly drove away.