She had made a fool of herself. Jane's cheeks burned at the memory of how quickly Kurt had run out of here last night when she'd told him he was her starting point, and she yanked her shirt on with more haste than finesse. Clearly, she'd completely misread the situation, mistook his concern for interest in her. And that dream this morning . . .
Her blush intensified as she recalled the intimate direction her thoughts had taken in slumber. Had she been dreaming of Kurt? She didn't know who else it could have been, but she didn't know what would have triggered it. Kurt certainly hadn't given her any encouragement in that department. He'd fled like she had the plague, in fact.
What had caused the rift between them all those years ago? Jane wondered for the umpteenth time as she shrugged into her jacket and headed out to meet her detail. Whatever it was, she was beginning to believe it was much more serious than she had initially assumed.
And she wanted more than anything to rectify it.
But how could she do that when she didn't even know what had happened? Jane posed that question to Borden in her session, but his answer wasn't exactly encouraging. "I don't think there's anything you can do at this point, Jane. Even if Agent Weller were to share the cause of your falling out, you would still have no memories of those events to explain or defend your actions." He frowned slightly. "Has he said something to make you feel uncomfortable?"
"No!" Jane blurted out. She softened her tone at Borden's surprised look. "No, he hasn't said much at all about that." Or any of their past, really. Of course, the one time she might have gotten answers, she'd run out on him. "He's been very kind. It's just . . . I can't explain it, but I felt . . . connected to him somehow the very first time I saw him, and I don't think it's just because we were childhood friends." It felt like something more, something deeper, something right on the edge of recall but as yet unreachable.
Which brought up another point that had been increasingly bothering her of late. "Don't you think it's odd that I instantly remembered the man who was shot in my safe house, but Weller's face hasn't triggered one memory? I mean, we . . . we grew up together. It seems like I would be able to recall something about a guy I knew for over half my life." It didn't make sense, and she finally gave voice to the question that had been plaguing her recently. "Do you think it's possible that I'm not Taylor Shaw? That the reason I'm not remembering Kurt is because I just look like her, and I never knew him?"
"No, not at all," Borden instantly reassured her. "Quite the opposite, actually. You said you felt an instant connection with him; I don't think you would have done so if he was in fact a stranger." He leaned forward. "The brain is a complex organ, Jane; there's no exact science for how or if a person with amnesia will regain their memories, even under more normal circumstances. Perhaps the memories you're recalling are more recent, and you will eventually recall the more distant past, or . . ." He hesitated. "It's possible that the ZIP may have erased those memories so completely that you'll never regain them. Since medical science has never had a case like yours before, it's impossible to say what the long-term effects will be."
Jane nodded slowly. The prospect of never remembering her shared history with Kurt was not one she wanted to contemplate at the moment. "I had a dream last night," she mentioned in order to change the subject, her cheeks burning as she articulated some of the details.
Borden kept his blank face firmly in place with an effort as he listened. It definitely sounded now as if Jane's earlier fears were unfounded. The man in her dream might well be Weller, and if it was, if she recalled more detail and realized it was him or saw the wedding band on her hand . . . This could blow up in all their faces in a big way. He bit back a sigh. There was nothing he could do about that now. These sessions were confidential, and they couldn't say he hadn't warned them. "It sounds as if you've had a breakthrough."
"A breakthrough?" Jane echoed in disbelief. "It was a dream."
"Your first dream," Borden returned. "Which you considered significant enough to mention to me. A sex dream."
Jane looked away as she swallowed back a surge of embarrassment. Borden had told her from the very beginning that nothing was off-limits in these sessions, and it was certainly nothing to be ashamed of talking about. She met Borden's eyes again. "So what does it mean?"
"That depends on who you ask," Borden told her. "Most people believe that dreams are the brain's way of processing how we feel about things." He paused for a second as Jane's eyes narrowed slightly. "So who do you think he was? This dream man?"
Things? Or people? Jane held Borden's gaze for a long moment before glancing away briefly. "Umm . . . something tells me you have a theory." And she had a pretty good idea what that was as something flickered in Borden's eyes. "What, you think it's Weller?"
"You said that, not me," Borden countered. But the fact that her mind had gone there so readily made him wonder if her subconscious was starting to connect the dots. Or perhaps she was simply still attracted to him. Either way, it might not be a bad idea for him to urge Mayfair to reconsider her decision before it was too late.
He may not have said it, but it was abundantly clear that's what he was thinking. But there was one big problem with that theory. "No. No, I just . . . No." She paused to collect her thoughts. "That guy had a tattoo of a tree on his arm, and Weller doesn't have that."
"Dreams aren't literal. They're impressionistic," Borden explained. "Your body is covered in tattoos, symbols you don't understand. Now you described it as a tree with deep roots. Maybe you're searching for stability. Strength. Those are certainly qualities that Agent Weller seems to project." Especially since she'd once found both of those in him.
But for the moment, it might be best if she attempted to find them in herself. "Your relationship with Agent Weller is . . . complicated." More than she knew. "He's your colleague. Your protector." Your former husband and lover. "Your childhood friend."
"Yeah," Jane fired back. "And now he's in my dreams. He's everywhere." And as much as his presence made her feel safe, it was also making her feel a bit smothered at the moment.
"Maybe you need to establish clearer boundaries," Borden suggested. He'd had limited chances to watch her and Weller interact, but on the occasions he had, they'd reminded him of a married couple who were estranged but still loved each other very much. It was a dangerous pattern to fall into given the circumstances.
"How do I do that?" Jane asked. Kurt was the one link she had to her past, after all, a past she still very much wanted to hear about. And she didn't want to hurt him again when he was being so kind to her, in spite of whatever had happened between them.
"To start, try keeping your interactions with him limited to a professional context." Perhaps taking a step back now and gaining some perspective would lessen the inevitable implosion when—if—her memory returned, though he doubted it. "At least for now."
That was easier said than done. "Right," Jane muttered, wishing he would give her some guidelines on how, exactly she was supposed to do that without hurting Kurt in the process and alienating him once again. And leaving herself friendless once more.
Though it quickly became abundantly clear that she needn't have worried about that. She left Borden's office with more questions than answers, as was the norm for her these days, and the day only went downhill from there. First, Kurt snapped at her for having her holster in the wrong position, and then he chastised her for attempting to forge a connection with Ana.
And as if that wasn't bad enough, he made it clear that he was doing everything in his power to regain his objectivity regarding her. To put some space between them where none had existed before. It felt like they had just taken a huge step backwards in their relationship, and she was at a loss to understand why. What she had done to cause this shift in his attitude toward her.
Kurt could see the confusion, the hurt, in Jane's eyes, and he longed to take back his harsh words, but Mayfair's blistering rebuke was still ringing in his own ears. Not that her censure had been necessary for him to recognize that he needed to regain his objectivity, and quickly, if he had any hope of surviving this with his heart intact. That was why he had voluntarily confided in Borden this morning.
They wrapped the case up quickly—or so they thought—and Jane walked Ana to the elevator, pleased when the young woman agreed to consider taking in a movie with her after refusing her offer of a ride or coffee. She braced herself for a fight when Kurt approached her as the elevator doors slid closed, looking like a thundercloud. "Can I talk to you?"
As if she had a choice, Jane thought bitterly as she followed him into a deserted corridor. Why was it so wrong for her to have one friend outside of this place? Especially since he was making it increasingly clear that he no longer wanted to be one.
"Was I not clear before?" Kurt ground out. "That is not how we do things."
Jane glared at him. "Well, maybe you do things wrong. Ana didn't open up until I showed her a little compassion." The same sort of compassion he had displayed to her—until today. "And her opening up saved lives."
"The case is finished," Kurt fired back, "and what, you're inviting her to a movie?" That was a mistake none of his other agents would be foolish enough to make. If she wanted to be treated like one of them, she needed to start acting like one.
"She is completely alone in this world, and she needs something in her life other than her work." Jane's words reflected her feelings about herself as much as Ana. She hadn't realized until this moment just how much that was true. Her relationship with Kurt had filled that void, but she needed something more, something wholly unconnected with this place, these people.
Kurt's eyes softened as he gazed down at her. He was making a mountain out of a molehill in this case, and he knew it. Ana Montes was no threat to her, or anyone else. Maintaining a professional distance didn't mean he had to be an ass. "Jane . . . Jane, if you ever want to come and have a drink with the team—"
"No," Jane interrupted hastily. "I . . . It's a little hard to relax when everybody at the table has been staring at photos of your tattooed body all day." She knew he meant well, but he couldn't possibly understand what that was like. How vulnerable it made her feel.
He could only imagine how she would feel if she knew he had done a great deal more to her body than just look at pictures of it. "What about Sarah?" Kurt suggested. His sister might not be thrilled to go out with Jane, but she had a big heart. He knew she would do it if he asked.
"Your sister?" Jane was incredulous that he would even suggest such a thing. "Her last name is on my back, and we had a falling out for reasons I can't even begin to guess at." She glanced away briefly before meeting his eyes once more. "None of this feels real, Kurt. I even asked Borden today if he thought it was possible that I wasn't Taylor Shaw after all."
"What?" Kurt was stunned. Sure, he'd had a few moments of doubt, particularly given that he didn't trigger any recollection for her when they'd made so many memories together, but he'd never seriously entertained any other alternative. Jane was Taylor. End of story.
"It's just . . ." Jane paused to collect her thoughts, desperate to explain herself, to make him understand. "You've told me I'm Taylor, and I . . . I feel a connection with you, but I don't have any proof that I am her. I look at you, and I see a man who was a stranger to me a week ago. I look at myself in the mirror, and I see a woman who's a stranger to me still. I don't have anything to connect me to our past, Kurt."
She took a deep breath. "Look, I appreciate everything that you've done for me, everything that you're doing, but I just . . . I don't know, I . . . I need room to breathe." She held his gaze for a moment longer before turning and walking away, and headed straight to Borden's office to discuss the day's events with him.
Kurt watched her go in stunned silence. This was the first time that Jane had let her guard down enough to be truly honest about what she was going through, and he was stunned at what she had revealed in that glimpse behind the curtain. There had to be a way to help her, to make her feel more secure in her very identity, and he was determined to find it.
Soon enough, the case demanded his attention once again, but the problem remained in the back of his mind throughout the rest of the day. He sat on his couch that night pondering what to do about it as he nursed his glass of scotch.
"Rough day?" Sarah asked softly as she took a seat next to her brother. She hadn't seen Kurt look this out of sorts since . . . well, since Taylor had left him. Which didn't bode well for whatever was going on now. It didn't take a psychic to know that whatever it was had to do with her.
"I've had better," Kurt admitted wearily. He hesitated and then related what Jane had said to him earlier. "I thought I had an inkling of how difficult this was for her, but now I realize I didn't have a clue. I want to help her somehow, I just . . ." He hadn't figured out how yet. Worse, he suspected his attitude today would make her even more reluctant to accept his help. She hadn't even been willing to let him drive her home tonight.
"She wants proof that she is who you say she is?" Sarah asked. "Give her something tangible."
"Something tangible?" Kurt repeated. "Like what?" The only mementos he had left of their life together weren't exactly things he could present to Jane as proof she was who he said she was—not as long as he was lying to her about the exact nature of their relationship. Not even if he wasn't.
Sarah hesitated. "I, uh . . . I know you didn't want any reminders of Taylor after she . . . after," she amended hastily, "but she was a part of our lives for so long that I just couldn't bring myself to part with all of them. I have several boxes of pictures that we could go through, and pick out some for you to give to her. It might help to actually be able to see herself."
"I think it would help a lot." Kurt felt a surge of excitement that there was finally something he could do, that he had a game plan to fix this problem. "That's perfect, Sarah. Do you . . . are the photos here?"
"Yep." Sarah led Kurt into the closet in her bedroom and pointed out the boxes for him to pull down off the shelf. By unspoken agreement, they placed them on the kitchen counter and sat down side-by-side to begin sorting through them, taking care to weed out any that showed Taylor's wedding band or gave the impression that she and Kurt were a couple, laughing at the memories they contained as they went.
"Hey, Sarah," Kurt said as they got closer to the time when Taylor had left him, recalling Mayfair's question from earlier in the day, "do you happen to recall Taylor's roommate from back then?"
"Sure I do," Sarah responded promptly. "Lida Carras. I spent the day with her and Taylor once, remember? When I came to visit you back in '06. I think I laughed more that day than I had in my entire life. She was a real riot. Why do you ask?"
"No reason," Kurt said as casually as he could manage. He would start searching for this Lida Carras tomorrow. It was an unusual name, so it shouldn't be too difficult to track her down. Normally he would ask Patterson to do it, but given his personal connection to this woman, it was one task he would need to undertake himself. Not that he minded in this instance. It would provide a welcome distraction from the upcoming meeting with his father Sarah had used her help this evening to leverage him into agreeing to.
Unfortunately, that search had to be pushed to the back burner once more. He arrived at work eager to present Jane with those photographs before getting started, but she hadn't gotten in yet, and Patterson texted Mayfair after their chat about Guerrero to let them know she had decoded the turtle shell tattoo. They were halfway to Michigan before he remembered he hadn't started the search on his computer before he left as he'd intended to.
He kept an eye on Jane during the flight. Flying had always unnerved her, and that was yet another thing that hadn't changed. More than once, he'd had to resist the urge to change seats with Zapata and comfort her. That wasn't his job any longer, he continually reminded himself. Zapata could reassure her just as well as he could.
He was even more thankful he'd stuck to his guns when Zapata questioned his professionalism on their trek through the woods. "I trust your training," he told her when she mentioned that Jane had volunteered for this mission as well. "Jane's still a wild card." Not so very long ago, he'd had to bribe her to go to the gun range with him, and now she was more lethal than he would ever be. That transformation grew more troubling to him with every day that passed. What the hell had happened to her? he wondered again.
"Is that really why I'm here, and she's not?" Zapata asked, doing her best to keep the skepticism out of her voice. She knew why she was here, even if Weller was oblivious to it.
"You got something to say, just say it." Kurt had known this confrontation was coming for a while now. Zapata was far too outspoken to be as silent to him about Jane as she had been since their team took over her case.
"You're protecting her." Zapata turned back to look at Weller. "She's more than just an old friend to you." She wasn't sure if he'd simply had unrequited feelings for Jane, or if they'd once been a couple, but there was definitely something there. "It is one thing if you won't admit it. It is something else if you don't even know it." If he didn't recognize that the feelings he had for her weren't a thing of the past.
Oh, he knew it all right. He just didn't know what to do about it. Kurt held Zapata's gaze for a long moment until she turned away, apparently satisfied that she had said what she needed to, and he would consider it. As if he hadn't already been doing that. Zapata had no idea just how on the mark her words were. Borden had made it sound easy to maintain his professionalism over his friendship with Jane, but he was beginning to think there was too much baggage between them for him to do so. And he was less and less certain that he wanted to. Jane clearly needed a friend right now, and he very much wanted to be there for her.
He made a point of sitting with her on the flight back, retrieving the box full of pictures he'd had the foresight to bring with him before taking the seat across from her. Hopefully, it would provide a welcome distraction from her fear of flying. And her first words to him confirmed he had made the right decision.
Jane gripped the armrests tightly as turbulence shook the plane, but she relaxed slightly as she met Kurt's warm gaze. She was so glad he had chosen to sit with her on the return trip. Somehow his presence always made her calmer. "When we were separated in the woods, I kept thinking about you," she admitted. "And me. And Taylor Shaw. We're in this together."
"We're in this together, Taylor," Kurt reassured his normally fearless tomboy of a wife as turbulence shook the plane once more, gently prying her hand loose from its white-knuckled grip on the armrest between them and sandwiching it between his own. "The pilots are in control, and I'm right here with you. We're much safer in this plane than we would be driving cross-country to California, I promise you."
Though if he had known how much it would upset her, he would gladly have taken that road trip. He would do anything in his power to keep her from being as afraid as she was now. "Come here," he said softly as she continued to regard him with terror-filled eyes, smiling as she moved into his embrace without hesitation. He wrapped an arm tightly around her and pulled her head down until it rested on his chest, hoping the comfort he offered would distract her for the rest of the flight. It was certainly distracting him . . .
The plane shook again, causing Jane to freeze up and take several shaky breaths, and Kurt smiled as he leaned forward, covering her hands with his. He couldn't believe she was still this terrified, not after what she had done today. "How can you fly a chopper out of a combat zone . . . and still be scared of a little turbulence?"
Jane's heart started racing for an entirely different reason as he held her hands firmly in his grip. "I think it's got something to do with being in control."
Kurt's mouth quirked as he gave a slight nod, even more thankful that he'd thought to bring a distraction. "I can't let you fly the plane, but maybe this will keep you occupied." He pulled the box off the seat beside him and set it on the table in front of Jane.
Jane regarded it warily. "What is that?"
Kurt chuckled. "Why don't you open it and see?"
Jane hesitantly pulled the lid off the box and gasped as she caught sight of its contents. Dozens of photos—hundreds, maybe—of her at various stages throughout her life. The one on top was of a younger her sitting next to a beaming Sarah, holding an infant gingerly. "Is that . . ."
"That's you with Sawyer when he was a few days old," Kurt confirmed, laughing a little at the expression on her face. "You were such a tomboy I think that was the first time you'd ever held a baby. You were terrified you'd break him."
Jane pulled another photo from the box at random. "What about this one?"
Kurt hesitated as he glanced at it. "That's . . . that's you with your mom. That was actually the last picture ever taken of the two of you, the week before she . . ." He trailed off, but it wasn't really necessary to finish the sentence; he could see that Jane understood. "Look, Jane . . . You said yesterday that you didn't feel like Taylor Shaw, that all you saw when you looked in the mirror was a stranger. I know these pictures won't replace the memories you've lost, but I hope they'll help you to feel more . . . connected to your past." To their past. Though god help him if one of those pictures triggered a memory that helped her to recall that past. He was going to have a lot to explain when she did finally remember. At least he appeared to have succeeded in his goal to distract her.
Jane's eyes glimmered with tears. "Thanks, Kurt," she said quietly. She replaced that picture in the box and plucked out one of them as teenagers. "Tell me about this one."
He was more than happy to oblige, and the two of them quickly became so engrossed in what they were doing that they didn't even notice when the plane touched down in New York.