This part reintroduces a character, James Craig, who first appeared in my fic Sarah Versus The Mysteries of Life and was again mentioned in Part Nine of this fic, Over/Under. While it probably isn't necessary to read the former, I would recommend it. Not only to boost my readership and maybe garner an extra review or two, but because I think it gives the dynamic between Sarah and James, which I think is interesting.
A few notes: Okay, here's how it is. This is really the first chapter I've developed since my long layoff. And starting now, through the next handful of chapters, BillAtWork has been instrumental in the story breaking process. At this point, given the help he's supplied, if this were the television series, Bill would have been promoted from Executive Story Editor to Co-Executive Producer. That being said, we don't quite see eye-to-eye on this chapter. However, his points are valid, and I'll hopefully address them as this story continues. Those points relate to Sarah, her emotions, and her ability to love. So in the meantime, General Audience, enjoy this story. And have a little faith.
Oh, and I know I promised two new chapters this weekend, the next won't be posted until Tuesday. This part underwent a couple rewrites and Bill and I decided there needed to be a new Chapter 12. So that's the delay. Trust me when I say I'm still writing and not slacking off. Again. Peace out, my little ferrets. And P.S., don't flame me because this part doesn't pick up from Part 10.
PART ELEVEN: ABOUT A BOY
When Agnes Craig answered the door, she was well prepared to greet her visitor. That is to say, she wore her best scowl on her face.
"Hello, Homewrecker."
Sarah Walker dipped her head, unable to look the older woman in the eye. Very softly, she replied, "Mrs. Craig."
"Here to see my husband?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Agnes sized up the woman before her. In nearly 35 years of marriage, she had put up with so much, forgiven so much. But this girl...
"Then I welcome you into my home, you little tramp."
Agnes stepped aside, allowing Sarah entrance. Without sparing the younger woman a second glance, Agnes called out in a booming voice, "James! Your whore's here!"
Sarah blanched considerably, but said nothing. Not like she didn't have it coming. Or so she thought.
"He'll be in his study," Agnes threw over her shoulder. "And be sure to let the door hit you on the ass on your way out."
And with that, Agnes disappeared into the living room.
Sarah simply stared after her a few moments. Just when she couldn't feel any crappier... "Yeah, I'll, uh, I'll see myself to the study. Thank you," she meekly finished.
It was simple enough to find the study. It was behind the massive double doors at the end of the hall of this fairly luxurious Santa Monica home. Sarah knocked at the doors, hearing a soft "Enter" from the other side.
The study was exactly as Sarah imagined. Large shelves of books around the periphery – James was a voracious reader. In the background – undoubtedly a vinyl – were the strains of Bobby Darin. I Wonder Who's Kissing Her Now. And sitting there behind an antique oak desk – working at an equally antique Remington typewriter – was James.
Ten years later, Sarah still felt that rush upon seeing him. Pushing sixty, James was thirty years her senior. Literally twice her age. Old enough to be her father.
For several years, their relationship was regarded as the worst kept secret within the CIA's upper echelon. Fraternization between such a high level agent and raw recruit was typically forbidden. But James was a legend and Sarah was a rising star, so the brass turned a blind eye.
By the time Sarah became James' pupil, the older agent was admittedly five years past his prime. But that didn't stop Sarah from idolizing the agent who was half-jokingly/half-reverently nicknamed "007" by his subordinates and even a majority of his peers.
While it was Arthur Graham who recruited her to the CIA, it was James Craig who made her an agent. It was he who oversaw her development from ugly duckling to beautiful young woman. From a largely ignorant and uneducated thief with a few raw skills to a highly trained and exceptionally intelligent operative.
And over time, she fell in love with him. Perhaps an awkward and disgusting thought to some given their age difference, but at the time, Sarah didn't give a damn. For nearly five years, Sarah was the centerpiece of his world and knew it. And that was an incredible feeling for a girl who'd never received much attention of any kind from any member of the male gender – even her father.
What she appreciated most about James was his ability to listen. Sure, many of their conversations were work related. Discussions of interrogations tactics or the pros and cons of the AK-47 compared to the M-16. But then there were the personal talks. Besides discussions regarding books, music, and world travels, Sarah confided in James her most intimate dreams and desires, including her childhood equestrian ambitions – things she never even considered telling her father.
A guy who listens. What's not to love? Oh, and the debonair man-of-the-world wasn't exactly a turnoff either.
And yeah, being around him still gave her stomach that warm and fuzzy feeling, but Sarah had moved on. Men had come and gone since her days with James. The reason she was here tonight was the same reason she went to him so many times in the past – his knack for listening to her. That, and his uncanny ability to see into the heart of her problems.
"Ah!" James cried out, gingerly emerging from his leather armchair and circling the desk. When they last spoke on the phone a couple weeks earlier, he had confessed that arthritis was setting in. "If it isn't the incomparable Sarah Jane! How is my favorite girl?"
"Favorite girl?" Sarah asked, a smile naturally appearing on her face. "Better not let Agnes hear you say that."
James waved away her concern. "Please. She already knows."
She nodded to the typewriter. "Still working on that hard-boiled detective novel?"
"Toiling would be a more accurate description."
He wrapped her in a warm hug and pressed a kiss to her check. Sarah closed her eyes – and however briefly - allowed herself to be comforted by his familiar embrace and scent.
He pulled away, giving Sarah an appraising look. She blushed slightly at the attention.
"Janie, darling, you look wonderful. So don't take this the wrong way..."
"I'm eating enough," she said, beating him to the punch. "Five more pounds," he used to say. "You could do with five more pounds."
"So you say," he responded, not quite believing it. After a few moments, his smile disappeared, replaced by a stern expression. "Give them to me."
Sarah looked away, shuffled nervously. "What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. I won't have you falling back into bad habits. Give them to me."
"You're not my father," she retorted childishly.
"Perhaps not, but don't for a moment think you're too big or old for a spanking. Now give them to me."
Reaching into her jacket pocket, Sarah retrieved a half empty pack of Pall Mall's and placed them in James' outstretched hand. He promptly tossed them into the trash.
"I catch the scent of cigarettes on you again, young lady, and you and I will have a long talk."
"Yes, sir."
James nodded with an air of authority. The discussion was closed. To show he wasn't too upset, he offered Sarah a warm smile and beckoned her to follow him to a nearby wall cabinet.
"Drink?"
Sarah hesitated. "I don't know..."
"Janie, it's okay. The reason I keep liquor around is for my guests. Now what will you have?"
"Scotch, neat."
James proceeded to fix her drink – and a ginger ale for himself. He then beckoned her to follow him out the bay doors onto a small, moonlit patio. Offering her a seat, the pair enjoyed a few moments of silence.
That was the only caveat. Just like in the old days, nothing could be discussed those first few minutes – business or personal. It was simply a time to sit in companionable silence, reflect, and as James jokingly put it, allow the liquor to take effect.
"So what brings you to my humble abode, Janie?" he asked, indicating the reflection period was over.
"Humble? I'd love to see your definition of lavish."
"That serious, huh?" Off Sarah's curious expression: "Evasive with a side of flippant. Dead giveaway."
Sarah smiled. He knew her too well. "Remember that friend I told you about? Charlie?"
"The one you're gaga over?"
"Yeah, him."
"Went and got himself kidnapped, didn't he?" She shouldn't have been surprised. James always knew. Yet shock must have reflected on her face. "My eyesight might not be what it once was, but my hearing is just fine." After another moment: "How you holding up?"
"I've smoked a pack of cigarettes a day for the past week."
"Smells like it."
"James," she answered with a slight whine.
He wouldn't have it. With a dismissive wave: "The subject's dropped. Now tell me what you know about the situation. Tell me about Rachel."
"You know her?"
"I do. I mentored her for a short time after our, uh, partnership... dissolved."
"Oh." Okay, so men had come and gone, but that didn't mean she couldn't be a little jealous. On the plus side, it was a completely irrational jealously.
"The relationship between Rachel and I was strictly professional."
"It isn't my concern..."
"Janie..."
"The subject's dropped."
Sarah instantly regretted her sharp tone, but James apparently thought it justified.
"Tell me what you know," he gently prodded.
"Nothing," Sarah admitted. "She lured my partner and I to a hotel under the pretense of 'catching up', drugged us, and abducted Charlie. Few days later she shows up in Roswell, New Mexico to raid a lockbox."
"Petty cash," James mused.
"That was our assumption."
"Strange. Why wait after the abduction to make a withdrawal? That makes no sense." He saw the strange expression she wore. "But that isn't the strangest part to you, is it?"
Regretful, she said, "I can't tell everything, James. Not even to you."
"Quite right, Janie darling."
After taking a pull off her scotch, Sarah hesitantly asked, "What was your impression of Rachel?"
"Actually, I thought the two of you to be extraordinarily similar. By that I mean you're both too good of persons for this job."
"What else?"
"Grew up in a broken home. I won't get into specifics. Even with the present situation, I will not break the confidence she put in me. Highly intelligent, driven. Absolutely dedicated to her profession and her country. Though a nasty tendency to allow emotions to override her better judgment."
Sarah shook her head in frustration. "I just don't know. I can't figure what this is about."
"This is... a bold act," James declared. "An act which she is well aware there is no coming back from. So whatever it is, that driving force, must be huge and wholly worth sacrificing a decade's worth of hard work to obtain."
"What do you think it could be?"
With a raised brow and shrug of his shoulders, James mused, "If it were a man I could venture a guess. Two, actually. First would be money, but really, there are easier ways of making a buck."
"And the second?"
"A woman. Throughout the course of human history, if but one fact has been proven it's that a man will do the stupidest damn things imaginable over a pretty girl."
Sarah nodded, indicating that was extremely helpful. In a way that completely wasn't. She said as much.
"I said I could venture a guess if she were a man," James defended. "Put yourself in her shoes. A decade of service to your country. Believing in and giving yourself over to a cause greater than your own life. What's that one thing that would make you turn your back on everything you know?"
The answer hit Sarah suddenly and like a load of bricks. How the hell didn't she see it before? Setting aside her drink, she bolted from the chair.
"Janie?" he called, struggling to his feet.
"I'm an idiot," she declared hotly. She was already moving for the study door.
"What's her motive, Janie?" he called. She needed to say it, needed to embrace it. "What's it about?"
"It's about a boy," Sarah answered decisively. "To do something this stupid, it has to be about a boy."
Just before Sarah reached the door, James' voice echoed behind her. "I was telling the truth. About Rachel and I. Our relationship was strictly professional, Janie. She knew I was yours."
Sarah looked back, an inexplicable wave of relief washing over her. She rushed to the older man, embracing him in a hug. "James..."
James simply smiled. "How many times have I told you? You never have to say it. Now go get your boy."
While she didn't vocalize it, she knew her smile echoed her thoughts.
Thank you.
END PART