Jennifer looks as if she's ready to melt or die, whichever came first.
John had been used to this sort of heat four years ago— now it was tolerable, but he still felt the drips of sweat as they rolled down the centre of his back. Jenn, on the other hand, was a wild mass of frizzy hair and beet-red skin; hadn't thought to bring sunblock.
Jenn, who was gulping down her second bottle of water and was looking thoroughly heatsick. John tried to comfort her:
"It's just another five minutes to the university. Then—"
"— Air conditioning."
She completed, equal parts wistful and breathless.
Jenn had been in Abu Dhabi for a few months now: before that was remote locations or cold, uncaring computer labs in major American Cities. Always with a body guard; some places, they were needed, and others, were not. She had been with a very untalkative woman for about six months before she was called away and John was sent to replace her five days ago. Jennifer met him at the airport, and threw herself in his arms when he'd gotten out of customs— she'd missed having contact with someone she knew.
She wasn't angry at him, which was a nice change— just tired. She liked talking about 'before.' She liked talking about Angela— about as much as John liked worrying about Mary.
Who still hadn't shown up, in the flesh or in text, and it scared him just as much as it annoyed Jennifer whenever he mentioned it.
"She knows just about every way to kill a person in any situation, John. She's very capable of handling herself, and probably everyone around her, too. I wouldn't worry about her too much. Do you think Craig's with Angela still? Where were they?"
Their conversations often jumped from past to farther past: they never strayed too far into the present. Jennifer was helping maintain the computers of a leg of crime based at the University Sorbonne-Abu Dhabi, and John was keeping her safe.
Safe from what, he wasn't entirely certain. Everyone had been more than friendly to them. Jennifer had made some friends her age— she spoke a rudimentary French that was improving day by day. John was slowly learning how computers worked.
Well, not really.
Jenn and John speed-walked the last few feet into the sliding doors of the technological centre, both welcoming the quick blast of the air conditioning as it hit the tops of their heads and necks. They turned right, and Jennifer swiped the keycard on her lanyard on the electric lock. The door clicked, and she pulled it outward, allowing John to hold it for her before filtering in himself.
"So, what're we working on today, then?"
He asked this every day, regardless of the fact that he usually had no idea what she meant when she answered. She looked excited to talk about her work, and so he'd listen.
"Just kernels, again."
"Ah, yes. The kernels."
He sat next to her, messing with his phone while she worked on the computer. The room was silent, save for the constant tapping of keyboards; Jenn said nothing, just bit her lip whenever she reached a bit of complicated code.
There was really no reason for John to be here— in this room, with Jennifer, in Abu Dhabi at all. They'd only met up with kind people who spoke only in some kind, strange computer language that John could grasp neither heads nor tails of. It was safe. Jenn had agreed.
"Yeah— usually it's me and some other big guy I don't know all that well— well, sometimes it's a girl, but never Angela— How is she? Have you spoken to her? — Well, anyways, yeah, usually it's a lot more stressed. The past few months have been really lax. Do you think— Well—"
Neither of them had let themselves voice their suspicions. Each task had become easier, safer, slower-paced. John hadn't been shot at in ages.
But neither of them wanted to curse it- the light at the end of the tunnel.
The very thought.
To keep themselves from thinking about it, they'd turn their minds away from the present. Kernels were boring, to Jenn. She'd told him herself. They weren't emergency, criminal, life-or-death. It made her think of the end.
"Where are you from?"
John looked up, surprised at the conversation that had suddenly appeared, waiting for him to respond. He raised an eyebrow.
"England. You know that."
"London?"
"I live in London, yeah. I didn't grow up there. That's more north."
"I live in London, too. Canada."
"Wait, there's a London in Canada?"
"Yeah, in Ontario. It's not that far from—"
She stopped, narrowed her eyes.
"You're fucking with me again, aren't you."
John grinned. She punched him in the arm— light, playful. When Mary punched playfully, it left bruises for days. He missed that.
"You're Canadian, then. That explains the aversion to heat. So used to igloos!"
He earned himself another punch for that one, but she laughed again. Hair spilled in her face as her head tilted downward; cute, youthful wrinkles forming around her squinted eyes and stretched lips.
They met eyes for a quick, accidental moment, and it dawned on John that ten years ago he would have tried to use that moment of humour to brush the stray, frizzy hairs from her face and rest his hand on her shoulder, to catch her eyes for longer and maybe lead her to his hotel room in the night.
Ten years ago, before the shoulder injury, the psychosomatic limp, the honourable discharge. What was honourable about a discharge? They sent him home with pennies, a stainless steel cane, and a will to die.
He needn't prod hard to remember what brought him back out of it.
"You okay, John?"
The wrinkles had migrated on her face; they didn't stay long in one place, and now they were squatting in between her eyebrows and along the wall of her forehead, worried. John nodded.
"Yeah, yeah. Just— got distracted."
Her expression made it obvious— he had not escaped her concern. She allowed him to change the conversation, though:
"Is that where you're going back, after this whole thing blows over? London?"
Jennifer had turned back to the computer screen, typing quickly even as she spoke.
"For a little bit, yeah. It's been a long time since I spoke to my parents, I'd like to see them again. Angela picked me up for this after I got kicked out of my university... Three years ago. More than that, wow."
"You... got kicked out of uni?"
"Oh, yeah. I— I was making money changing official records for people. Grades, the like. I mean, if that's what I had got kicked out for I would have been a lot more worse off— probably in jail— but they never got me for that. I—"
She giggled, sort of hesitant.
"Whoever wrote their code was just so messy. I started cleaning it up for them. That's what tipped them off. So, I was... Kicked out of university for making unauthorised updates to the school website."
"Oh, you know, what a normal teenage girl does for fun. Break into websites to shift things around."
"Oh, shush. I'm twenty four, a full-fledged adult."
"And yet the first think you think of is how much you miss your parents."
"Of course I miss my parents! I'm their youngest, they're probably going berserk. I used to be able to call them and talk to them all the time, but ever since New York, now they we're jumping here and there, I've been told not to call attention to their whereabouts."
She bit her lip— the sound of her typing filled the silence.
"I have all these messages saved on my phone, you know— drafts. It's so hard to have a phone, to physically be able to just send them a message, I'm all right, I'm not dead, I'll be home soon, and yet not be able to. But I guess I get it, We're still on really shaky ground out here. We probably don't know how much danger we're in. You know? It's just— it's difficult not to be able to talk to them."
John shook his head, but it took him a long moment to decide to speak.
"I don't think— I don't think we're in any more danger. At least, for the time being. I think you're going to be able to see your parents a lot sooner than you might think."
Jennifer nodded: slowly. She didn't want to blindly believe something that might not be true.
"I'd like to see everyone again, though. Mary, and Craig, and Tony. Angela."
"Well, maybe we will. We're not done yet."
"Hm."
She smiled at him, and he smiled back to her— she stretched her back, cracked her fingers, and got back to work.
They spoke no more of it, afraid that just that tiny conversation had doomed them to another year, years, decade of travel, of running around, getting shot at, evading criminals— that this was just a temporary lapse in adventure, and to think otherwise was dangerous.
However.
A few days later, while the two of them were eating lunch, a sign:
Sent: 19 February 12:35
Major continental syndicates confirmed contained. You'll be getting official news, plane tickets, docs. tomorrow on main euro leg. See you in Lille. – Mary xx
Draft: 1July 2012 16:03
im alive. ill be home.
Draft: 5 July 2012 11:38
not dead. get milk?
Draft: 9 July 2012 22:56
met the group ill be with today. theyre suspicious of me. but i guess thats expected.
Draft: 7 August 2012 09:29
haven't slept all night. kind of had a big night. Oh yeah, not dead.
Draft: 27 November 2012 21:35
america is a lot bigger than i imagined. i know that sounds stupid but its true.
Draft: 3 December 2012 08:03
why did you always write your initials at the end of a text message? it was pretty useless everyone knew who you were
Draft: 16 December 2012 19:30
Not dead. - J
Draft: 24 December 2012 23:46
Merry Christmas, Sherlock. -J
Draft: 1January 2013 00:02
you texted Irene last new years, didnt you? God, you texted her a lot. Did you ever kiss her? I think you did. - J
Draft: 29 January 2013: 05:39
Happy Birthday. I know its your birthday. Mrs H told me. How does she know? - J
Draft: 10 July 2013 17:19
not dead. gotcha. - J
Draft: 10 July 2013 17:19
I've started saying all of these American phrases in earnest. Youd hate that. -J
Draft: 04 August 2013 10:56
My textings improved too. I can now use punctuation and capitol letters. You'd like that. -J
Draft: 22 September 2013 17:27
did you ever get that note I wrote you? In your room at the manor. Why didnt you ever tell me you had a manor? - J
Draft: 24 December 2013 18:38
Merry Christmas from scenic Argentina. - J
Draft: 3 January 2013 04:29
Why would anyone want to travel this early? I'm dying here. – J
Draft: 29 January 2013 12:02
happy birthday, hope you're enjoying the English winter because I am not at all enjoying the Canadian one - J
Draft: 6 May 2013 00:29
I cant believe Im saying this but I miss that chemical smell our fridge always had. It was unnerving at first but it made everything smell clean at least - J
Draft: 8 July 2013 08:08
Sorry. Knew you wanted to be the one to do it. Won't be home for a while now. – J
Draft: 30 September 2013 20:28
Not dead. - J
Draft: 27 December 2013 17:03
Not dead. - J
Draft: 6 February 2014 09:31
Not dead. – J
Draft: 18 June 2014 22:56
I'm not dead. Who knows when I'll be home. – J
Draft: 06 August 2014 12:15
Australia is cold in the summer and warm in the winter. I can't decide if that's something you would delete or not. – J
Draft: 29 January 2015 13:39
MMS: Picture attached
ear hats spotted in the Philippines. When I asked why they were wearing them, they said it was your birthday. I'd forgotten. - J
Draft: 4 February 2015 06:09
It's hot here. Not dead. – J
Draft: 19 February 2015 17:34
See you soon. - J