Thanks for the reviews. I'm back from my trip but I have four papers to write in the next week so you'll have to bear with me. Hopefully this extra long (and Jatey) chapter will make up for you having to wait again.

Funny story: my friend and I were on the train coming back from San Diego after Comic Con and who should be sitting behind us? None other than Zack Ward (aka. Marc Silverman), who was there for a Dollhouse signing. We didn't talk to him because he was on the phone, but how weird is that considering the number of times he's popped up in my stories? ;)

Chapter 8.

By the time the three of them walked up to Kate's house, Jack had made up his mind to confront her about their history, but the scene that greeted him on their arrival caused his resolution to falter. She was with a man he didn't recognise – her fiance and the baby's father, he assumed – leaning against him, her face buried in the broad plane of his chest while one of his hands cupped her head, the other resting in the small of her back, holding her close. He looked like he could have stepped out of the pages of a Calvin Klein catalogue with his chiselled features and wild surfer hair; of course a woman as striking as her could only be with someone like him.

"I hope we're not interrupting," he said as Claire ushered Aaron – who was covered in mud from the park and in desperate need of a bath – to the foot of the stairs.

They both started at the sound of his voice, breaking apart with matching guilty expressions, as if he'd caught them in the middle of committing a sordid act. "No, of course not," Kate assured him, wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm, and it was only then that he realised that she'd been crying. "Jack, this is James."

On being introduced to the other man, Jack stepped forward to take his hand. "Good to see y'll in one piece, Doc," James said as he shook it, his accent identifying him as coming from somewhere in the Deep South, which surprised Jack since he'd had him pegged as the stereotypical blonde, sun-bronzed Californian.

He wasn't sure how to respond so he just nodded, forcing a polite smile onto his face. "So how did you two meet?" he asked, more to keep the conversation going than out of any real desire to hear the story.

"James was on the plane with us," Kate explained, looking confused.

She wasn't the only one. "I thought there were only six survivors?" So far he counted at least eight including Claire. "You know, one of these days you're gonna have to tell me what really happened on that island."

She didn't answer, averting her eyes to avoid his, and not for the first time, he got the sense that that was the one part of his past that she, at least, was unwilling to share with him, whether due to her own repressed trauma or some other less obvious reason.

He noticed that James too was eyeing her with a curious look. "Well anyway, you're a lucky guy," he told him to break the tension that had descended over their group.

He'd meant it as a compliment, of course, but James seemed to take it as anything but. "Lucky?" he repeated in a voice filled with outrage.

Jack wondered if it was because he didn't want the baby; if he was unhappy with Kate for getting pregnant. Maybe that was what she'd meant when she said it was 'complicated'.

They were saved from another uncomfortable silence by Claire, coming out of the kitchen with the phone in her hand. "I'm ordering a pizza if anyone's hungry," she announced.

"I ain't stayin'," James told her, to everyone's surprise, including Kate's. His tone was almost apologetic as he added, "You look like you got a full enough house as it is."

"Suit yourself," Claire told him, shifting her attention to him. "Jack?"

He couldn't stop himself from shooting a furtive glance at Kate as he considered the invitation. He still hadn't been able to talk to her; maybe it would be easier after James left. "Sure."

He could see by the relief in Claire's expression that this was the answer she was hoping for. "Great." She ducked back into the kitchen to make the call, leaving the three of them alone.

"That'd be my cue," James piped up as soon as she was gone.

Jack expected Kate to object, but she didn't seem to mind one way or the other. "I'll walk you out," she told him, following him past Jack into the foyer.

Even once they were outside, Jack continued to keep tabs on them through the open door, studying their body language for clues as to the nature of their current relationship. What struck him the most about their interaction was that James made no attempt to kiss her goodbye, putting his hand on her shoulder instead, his head bowed towards her, saying something that caused her to nod. Whatever the situation between them, it was clear that they weren't fighting: if anything, it looked as though he were trying to comfort her.

Once they finished speaking, she hugged him again before stepping back from the driveway to allow him to climb into his car and start up the engine.

"I have to admit, I'm a little surprised that you and James aren't living together," Jack told her when she finally came back inside.

"What makes you think we should be living together?" she asked, screwing her face up in confusion.

He nodded in the direction of her left hand. "That is his ring you're wearing, isn't it?"

A look of understanding dawned on her face as she followed his gaze to the thin silver band, winding it around her finger in a slow circle until the diamond was facing outwards from her palm. "James and I aren't engaged, Jack," she explained. "We're friends, but that's all."

It was the second time that he'd succeeded in putting his foot in his mouth, making assumptions about her and her life that turned out to be way off base. "He's not the baby's father?" he checked, still expecting to hear that he was, even if they'd ruled out getting married because of it.

"No," she agreed simply and he was surprised at how relieved he felt.

He didn't get another chance to talk to her alone until after dinner, when Claire instructed Aaron to kiss them each goodnight and led him upstairs to get ready for bed.

"So if James isn't the baby's father, where is he?" he asked her as he helped her clear up, trying to keep his tone conversational. Whoever he was, she never seemed to want to talk about him; it was as if the baby was hers and hers alone. "Why isn't he here looking out for you instead of Claire?"

She took her hands out of the water she was using to wash up the plates, bracing them against the edge of the sink as she closed her eyes, sighing heavily in response. "Because he doesn't know," she confessed when she opened them again, turning to face him with a look that was almost challenging.

"You're in your second trimester and you still haven't told him? Don't you think you should?" No sooner had the words left his mouth than a disturbing thought occurred to him. "Unless… He wasn't abusive, was he?"

His concern seemed to amuse her, drawing a tiny smile out of her. "No, never, so you can relax, Jack – we're safe."

While he was aware that Kate's life was really none of his business, he couldn't stop thinking about his conversation with Claire and the implications behind it. He and Kate had a story. He had to know what that was. "I'm gonna ask you something that may sound a little crazy, okay?" he told her.

"Okay," she agreed slowly.

"When we were at the park," he began, choosing his next words carefully. "Claire..." Was it just his imagination or did she tense? "She said that there was some… unfinished business… between us, and that if I wanted to know what it was, I had to ask you. So I guess what I'm asking is… Is it mine? The baby. Is there any chance that it could be mine?" He was sure that she was going to laugh it off by insisting that they'd never slept together, but instead she just stared at him in shock, the colour draining from her face and he felt his chest constrict. So his suspicions were right. It was possible. "Kate, if I had anything to do with this, I need to know," he pressed gently.

She was silent for a long time and then she replied, "Yeah. It's yours."

Those three words made him feel as though he'd just been sucker punched in the gut. "Are you sure?" It wasn't that he had no interest in being a father; it was just that he had no idea how to do that when he was still so helpless himself.

"Positive." Her voice was firm, without so much as a hint of doubt. She obviously hadn't been with anyone else since. "I can prove it," she added, less sure of herself now, biting her bottom lip as she waited to see whether or not he was going to take her up on this.

Under the circumstances, he doubted anyone would argue with his right to seek a paternity test before committing financially or emotionally to her and her child, but did he really want to put either of them through that, especially given the potential risk to her pregnancy? He wasn't sure why, but he trusted her. Maybe it was because of the nagging sense of déjà vu that he'd had since he met her. "How…? Obviously I know how…" He let out an awkward chuckle as he tried not to think about Kate having sex, or having sex with Kate, which according to her, he had at least once, even if he didn't remember it. "What I mean is, what happened? Was it just a fling or… were we in love?"

He sensed that this wasn't going to be a short conversation when she dried her hands on a dishcloth and gestured for him to come with her into the living room. "It was actually a little of both," she confessed once they were both seated, him in one of the overstuffed armchairs while she situated herself opposite him on the couch. "We were together, for almost a year. You lived with me and Aaron here in this house. One day not long after you moved in, you asked me to marry you, but before we could even start planning the wedding, we got into this huge fight and you left. Then one night we were both feeling lonely and scared…"

"And now you're pregnant," he finished, silently chastising himself for being so careless and stupid. How could he let something like that happen? He was a doctor: at the very least he should have thought about using a condom. Or maybe he had and he just didn't remember. "I'm so sorry, Kate. You must think—"

"Don't be," she insisted. "I'm not." She glanced down at her belly, touching it gently, a soft smile spreading over her face. "It's crazy, but I'm actually happy about this."

It wasn't all that crazy in light of what she'd just told him. They were engaged at one point; he wondered if starting a family together was something they'd discussed before things turned sour between them. It was just another one of the mysteries surrounding their relationship. For him, at least. "You're happy that I don't remember you?" he teased her, making her laugh.

"You know what I mean. At a time in my life when everything was falling apart, you gave me something real to hold onto." Her voice took on a wistful tone as she confessed, "I don't know what I would have done if it wasn't for this baby. Some days it's the only thing that keeps me going."

"Do you mind if I…?" He held out his hand but didn't touch her, unsure of the protocol.

Her response was a vehement shake of her head. "There's not much to feel yet, but of course not. Go ahead."

Once he was sure of her permission, he reached out, laying his palm on her belly over the soft cotton of her t-shirt. While intellectually, he understood what her being pregnant entailed, he still found it hard to believe that there was a person growing inside the hard protrusion beneath his hand: not just any person, but his own son or daughter. Kate wasn't exaggerating when she said that it was far too early in the pregnancy for it to do much, but that didn't lessen his awe at making contact with his child for the first time.

When he glanced back up at Kate, she was smiling. "This is really our baby?"

"This is really our baby," she confirmed with a tearful nod and he broke into a grin to match hers.

"When's your next doctor's appointment?" he asked her when he finally pulled away. "You are seeing an OB?"

"Yes, I'm seeing an OB, Jack," she assured him, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation, and he was reminded of what she'd said about him being obsessive. "She's very good. You'd like her. You might even know her – she works up at St. Sebastian's. Grace Connor?" There was a hopeful note in her tone; he wanted to be able to tell her that the name rang a bell, but when he searched back through his memory, he found himself coming up against yet another brick wall. He could see her struggling to hide her disappointment as he shook his head. "Nevermind. My next appointment is at sixteen weeks, so three weeks from now. I have to decide if I want an amnio by then."

"Do you?" So far she hadn't said anything to suggest that their child was less than perfect.

"I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter. I could never…" She trailed off with a guilty expression as if she were afraid that he might consider that selfish.

But he understood. He couldn't either. That was why he was glad that she'd decided to have the baby in his absence. "I wanna go with you. To your next appointment. I wanna be there." He hesitated when it occurred to him that she might not want him there. "That is, if it's all right with you?"

"You don't have to ask, Jack," she told him. "This baby is yours. I want you to be involved if that's what you want. I would never stand in the way you having a relationship with it."

He couldn't even begin to imagine how difficult this situation must be for her; he felt bad enough not recognising his own mother, but with her, it was infinitely worse, especially now that she'd confirmed what he was afraid of: she was in love with him, while all he felt was a vague sense of attachment, and if he was completely honest with himself, a growing physical attraction. "Thank you," he told her with a sincere smile, grateful that she wasn't going to try to shut him out of their lives, as tempting as he was sure that it must be.

"Do you wanna see it?" she asked shyly when they fell into a companionable silence.

"See what?"

"The baby," she told him, laughing at his puzzled expression. She pushed herself up from the couch, and made her way over to the stairs, climbing up out of sight.

When she returned a few minutes later, she was clutching a small rectangular card, which she then handed over to him.

It was a printout of an ultrasound, dated less than a week ago. He studied the grainy black and white image for a long time, tears springing to his eyes as they traced each appendage, from its head to its short, stumpy arms to the tiny pair of feet.

"You keep it," she told him when he moved to hand it back to her.

"You're sure?" he checked, pocketing it when she nodded.

He glanced at his watch. It was already after ten. "It's getting late," he announced, suddenly feeling very drained. He still hadn't fully adjusted to being back home and the news that he was about to become a father to a child he didn't even remember conceiving had left him with a lot to digest. "I should probably call my mom before she goes to bed. Otherwise I'm gonna have to borrow money for a cab." Smooth, Jack, he thought, cringing inwardly. He hadn't needed his parents to drop him off or pick him up from anywhere since his junior year of high school.

"I can give you a ride home," she offered and he wondered if she thought that was what he'd been hinting at.

"No, Kate, it's fine." He reached into the pocket of his jeans for the cell phone his mother had given him. He'd lost his sometime between boarding the plane and waking up in Tunisia. "You shouldn't be driving around LA alone at this time of night," he reminded her as he brought up the list of contacts. "It's not safe for you or the baby."

"I can take care of myself, Jack," she insisted, her green eyes narrowing with irritation. "What d'you think I've been doing for the last three months?"

She probably hadn't meant anything by it, but this didn't stop him from feeling guilty. He hadn't been there for her, but that was going to change. From now on, supporting her and the baby was his number one priority.

"Look, everybody needs help sometimes," she continued in a gentler tone. "You were the one who taught me that." The corner of her lip turned up into a wry smile. "So quit being stubborn and let me get my keys."

He couldn't resist teasing her a little in return. "You do realise that you just contradicted yourself?" he called after her as she went in search of her purse.

"Shut up, Jack."

Neither of them spoke much on the way over, except on the few occasions that Kate broke the silence to point out places that they'd been together: Aaron's preschool, the Chinese restaurant they always ordered out from, the pool where he taught Aaron to swim... It was surreal, like taking a tour of his own life. He wondered if he would get used to it before he remembered; if he remembered. From what the doctor at the embassy said, that might never happen. All they could do was wait and see.

"Here we are," she announced as she pulled up in front of what he'd been told was his childhood home. He wanted to go back to his own apartment but his mother wouldn't let him until she was convinced that he could fend for himself.

All of the lights were off inside. She must already be asleep. "Thanks for the lift," he said, unbuckling his seatbelt, but making no move to get out.

"You're welcome," Kate told him, putting the car into park and shutting off the engine so that she could focus on him. "I meant what I said, Jack. I want to help you in any way that I can."

Something about the way they were sitting made him wonder if he should try to kiss her; if she wanted him to kiss her; if doing so would bring back the memories of all the other times that he had, including that night.

In the end, he decided that it would be better for both of them if he allowed things to remain platonic between them… at least for the time being. He didn't want to risk hurting her further by leading her on with false promises, encouraging her to believe that they could just pick up where they left off when he still wasn't sure how he felt. The next time he kissed her – if indeed there was a next time – he wanted it to be for the right reasons.

But that didn't preclude the possibility of them being friends, if for no other reason than to save their child from being caught in the middle of a drawn out custody battle. "Listen, I have an appointment at the DMV in the morning, but do you think I could stop by afterwards? Just to see how you and the baby are doing?" he finished lamely. If they'd moved to the stage where they were living together, then he must have done this countless times, yet he was as nervous as if he were asking her out on their first date.

For a moment he was afraid that she was going to say no, but then her face lit up with happiness as she nodded her consent. "I know it probably doesn't seem like it, but I'm really glad you're okay," she told him. "I've missed you."

He wanted to tell her that he'd missed her too, but that would have been a lie, so he said nothing, glancing back up at the house to avoid witnessing the pain in her expression. "I'll see you tomorrow," he told her as he slid out of the passenger seat and closed the door. "Goodnight, Kate."

"Goodnight, Jack."

Next chapter: Jack visits Kate... ;)