Jack arrived in the office the following morning and saw the stack of piled work was now only two inches thick. Progress. At work and with Jennifer. After last night, he felt far more hopeful than he had since that evening in the cabin with the slap. She said "I've missed you." He played that over and over in his head.

On top of the accumulated papers on his desk was a large envelope that had obviously been dropped there by someone else. He always made right angles of his stacks and that envelope was askew at about sixty degrees. He opened it up and started looking at its contents. He dropped into his chair as his mind started processing what he was seeing. On top, it was an 8"x10" black-and-white photo. It was taken at night and cropped in tight so that the two photographed people dominated the picture.

It was a profile view of Steve and Jennifer; Jennifer was in Steve's arms. The next photo, similar 8x10 black-and-white, but this one showed them hugging. The last photo showed Steve's hands on Jennifer's face. From the angle and the cropping, these photos looked exactly like the photos that reporter gave him years earlier of Steve and Kayla. The photos that led to his ruination.

Steve and Jennifer weren't kissing, like in the old photos, but it looked intimate and intense. Steve and Jennifer. Steve and Jennifer?

When did this happen? What is going on here? Jack slowly placed the envelope and photos on the desk. He had trouble swallowing; his heart was racing. Time seemed to stand still. When were Steve and Jennifer ever together? Steve wouldn't…. Jennifer definitely wouldn't…. It can't be the same. It just can't be like before. It just can't be like those photos of Steve and Kayla all those years ago.

Think carefully, Jack told himself. There are two issues here—the content of the photos and the intention of the person who sent them.

First issue—the content. Jack noticed Jennifer was wearing the same coat in the photo she had worn the night she came over to his house. She had gone somewhere for 90 minutes; she never said where. He didn't think anything was going on between Steve and Jennifer—the whole idea seemed so incongruous with reality that it was almost laughably absurd. He trusted in Steve's faithfulness to Kayla (really more than he trusted Steve to not move in on someone else's fiancé). And Jennifer loved him, Jack knew, and Jennifer was in no mood to be intimate with anyone these days. It was innocent; Jack knew it was an innocent moment of course. But it was intentionally manipulated and designed for misinterpretation by whomever took the photos. That was the second issue.

Lawrence.

He would capitalize on that painful chapter in Jack's past. He would try to divide these two brothers by suggesting that Steve was betraying Jack once more—and this time with Jack's great love, Jennifer, just as he had done with Kayla. This was Lawrence's initial attack; his opening shot across the bow.

Jack thought through the potential ramifications. Lawrence had looked well and deep into Jack's history and knew the perfect method to reignite his rage, jealousy, and self-loathing—those photos of Steve and Kayla that had started so much. It also meant that Lawrence was tailing either Jennifer or Steve and had his henchman take photos of an innocent moment and saw it as a perfect opportunity.

Jack picked up the phone and called his driver, Sheldon. A quick phone call did confirm that he had driven Jennifer to Steve's house the other night at her direction and then she came back to Jack's mansion. He put the photos back in the envelope and headed over to Steve's.

Once arriving at Steve's house, he took a deep breath before knocking on the door. A minute later, Kayla opened up the door. She looked tired like she had already had a long morning and desperately needed a cup of coffee.

Jack asked her in a sing-song voice like a little kid, "Hi Mrs. Johnson, can Steve come out and play?"

Kayla gave an amused smile, "Jack, I thought we talked about this. Please come in."

Jack turned serious. "It's not a social call."

Kayla shrugged, "Fine, I'll get Steve."

Jack nodded and paced for a few minutes until Steve appeared. "It looks like the uneasy truce we've had with Lawrence since we left his country has ended. He's launched his first volley over the wall."

"What did he do?"

"Sent me these," Jack handed over the envelope.

Steve opened it up and pulled out the photos, "What the—? Jack, that was nothing. It was innocent. Jennifer's like a kid sister."

Jack just lifted his eyebrows in response.

"I hope you know that. Look she came over here the night after you found out the truth. She was upset that I told you, but she really just needed to blow off some steam, which she did."

Jack was still feeling hurt. Those photos brought up a lot of feelings from the past. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just didn't. Don't go letting this drive a wedge between us. How do you know it was Lawrence?"

"Who else? Could he be tailing you or should we assume he was following Jennifer?"

"It's not me. I'm just careful about that stuff as a rule, especially these days since the boat explosion."

"You don't understand the significance of these photos, do you?"

Steve shook his head. "They're just photos—rather pathetic attempt to make mischief."

"You don't get it. It's the same set-up, same framing, same angle, same damn photo size as the pictures of you…with Kayla…from that night of the election."

Steve winced, "Oh man. I didn't realize. I never saw them. How did Lawrence find out about them? It just goes to show if he's going to these lengths to find out everything about you, then we have to do the same." Now Steve was pacing the front porch. Lawrence would send these photos of Steve with Jennifer to Kayla too as a painful reminder, just to be a jerk.

Jack sat down on the porch swing, "My lawyer entered them as evidence at the trial. I guess they became public that way."

Jack nervously tapped his nails on the porch swing. He wanted to say something; he wanted it said, but didn't know how to say it. "Look, just do me a favor alright? Keep your hands off Jennifer."

His tone called Steve's attention. He turned full around and stepped towards Jack, a half-foot from his face. They squared off. Despite everything, he was surprised the turn that Jack had taken. "Excuse me?"

Jack inwardly groaned, he didn't want to do this. He didn't want to be like this with Steve. He really didn't want this fight, but those photos had resurrected a lot of the old hurt and old pain. He had blown off Steve's apology about everything that happened with his marriage to Kayla and had told him that his apology was unnecessary, but Jack was realizing now that the wound, the deep-seated insecurity was still there. Jack said nothing more, but he continued staring at Steve. This was serious for Jack.

"Look, baby brother, I will hug, comfort, or touch any friend I damn well please. You got that?" Steve stood close to Jack, but didn't grab at his suit or try to rough him up. He had heard Jennifer when she chastised him for doing that and would not get physical with Jack again. "You need to back off—now. I'm not your enemy, man."

Jack didn't want to fight, but didn't want to back down either. "Dammit all to hell!" Jack kicked hard at the porch swing and broke the front wooden slat of the seat. Broke it clean in half as though it had been a karate demonstration.

Watching Jack break the wooden slat flipped the situation around in Steve's mind and he smiled. It managed to deflate away all the tension in the moment for him. He took pity on his brother and forgave all of it. God only knew how tightly wound up Jack was over all this. "Do that again," Steve ordered.

Jack was still angry, "Don't patronize me. I just don't want Jennifer turning to you, alright?"

Steve ignored that, "Kick the damn swing."

Jack kicked at the seat and it swung backwards wildly. But a slat didn't break on that kick, so he did it a third time and broke two more. Half of the seat was gone now. Jack calmed his breathing and looked up at his brother.

"None of this is about me and Jennifer. There will never be a 'me and Jennifer.' The very idea is absurd. Get it out of your head."

Jack glared at Steve, "I'm still mad at you." Jack was actually mad at himself. Steve was the heroic kind of guy that Jennifer needed right now; he was doing his damndest to be like Steve, but he never felt adequate. He never felt like he was enough. Despite, Steve's confessions to Jack of his criminal past, Jack had only ever known the heroic Steve.

Steve smiled, "No you're not."

Jack gave him a punch on the shoulder.

Kayla came out the front door at that moment, "Stephanie is down for a nap—she's been up since four this morning," she explained to Jack. "What's going on?"

Steve hands over the envelope.

"Steve, don't show her," Jack sounded more plaintive than commanding.

Now Kayla was looking at both of them strangely, but didn't comment on the porch swing and its wooden fragments laying on the ground.

"I'd rather she see them from me than from Lawrence."

Kayla took the photos out, looked at each one, and then handed everything back to Steve. "I assume that's from the other night?"

Steve nodded.

Kayla looked at Jack and answered his unasked question, "Yes, I recognize them," Then asked both brothers, "So you two are going after Lawrence, aren't you?"

"Yes," Steve answered. "I want to help Jack out with this one."

"This won't end with me at your bedside in the hospital begging you again not to leave me or your daughter?"

Steve held her gaze and answered sincerely, "No, it won't."

"Promise?" Kayla needed that assurance after the gigantic scare they had last fall. She still woke up with nightmares from those too tense times.

"Promise."

Jack was watching the exchange and saw this incredible energy and love pass between them. So much heartfelt emotion and years of experience could be contained in their simple words.

"Then go nail that bastard."

888888888888888888888

That evening, Jack appeared at Jennifer's doorstep with some burritos, a bottle of sparkling water, and the Goonies movie on video. He wanted casual, no alcohol, and a funny movie with no sex. Once again, cheap was merely a bonus.

When Jennifer opened the door and saw his offering, she grinned.

"Can I come in?"

Jennifer moved to one side. "Sure," and motioned him in.

"I come bearing dinner and entertainment," Jack said, using finger quotes for both the dinner and entertainment. He didn't mention the photos Lawrence had sent him that morning. He would just add it to the list of forbidden topics that they were compiling in order for them to co-exist these days.

"It's fine," Jennifer said. "It's very thoughtful, actually."

"There's plenty to share. Francois est ici?"

Jennifer rolled her eyes, "No, Frankie isn't here." She went up into the cupboard. "Let me get some plates and glasses."

As Jennifer reached up to the high shelf, Jack noticed her wincing. He was at her side in an instant. "You okay?"

Jennifer flushed, "Yes, it's silly really. I was on assignment today; we were at a firehouse interviewing…"

"Let me guess," Jack interrupted, "You were interviewing firemen. Am I right? Did you tell them about the time you got to ride in a firetruck and kiss a Dalmation?"

Jennifer looked amused. "Yes, firemen. No, didn't tell them. But they wanted to film me sliding down the fireman pole," With that, Jack thought of a dozen dirty jokes, but kept quiet. "So I did slide down and I landed wrong and now my back is a little sore."

Jack took a chance, "Can I give you a massage?"

She hesitated and bit her lip, mulling it over.

Actually, as Jack thought more about it, he thought it was a good idea for them and tried to really sell it to her. "Look, you can come over here and sit in this chair," Jack pointed at one of the cushiony chairs; he figured it would be better than laying flat on a blanket on the ground or worse, the couch. He knew it was weird, but ever since he learned what Lawrence had done to her, he didn't want to go near her couch. "It'll be therapeutic, calming, clinical. My hands will only be on your back, I swear. If you don't like it, then we'll stop."

Jennifer was considering it; Jack was trying and she should try also. She knew he would never hurt her. She knew it would be nice to feel his hands on her and test the waters, so to speak, in a completely non-sexual way. And her back was hurting, a massage would be a huge help.

"Can I keep my shirt on?"

"Of course. You can do whatever you want," Jack answered.

"I know. It's just standard to be..."

"We'll work around it." Jack went over to her radio and dialed over to the classical music station to help create a relaxing, soothing mood.

"Okay. Should I sit here?"

Jack nodded and she went over and sat down. Her heart started beating fast. She knew his hands would stay on her back; he wouldn't try to reach around and cop a feel. He wouldn't use this massage as a pretense for foreplay. She knew he understood her unspoken limitations and was willing to abide by them. She trusted him completely.

He was behind her, his fingers hovering over her shoulders. He was nervous, but decided to just push through the trepidation and go forward. He placed his fingers softly on her shoulders. She instinctually tensed up.

"Sshhh, relax," he soothed.

"Could you do one more thing for me? I can't see you when you're behind me, so could you keep both hands on my back the whole time so I know where they are?"

"Of course," Jack said, attempting to sound natural and yet realizing the persistent sense of violation that precipitated her request.

Jennifer worked on keeping her breath calm and steady. She felt his fingertips feather light on her shoulders—they just barely caressed her through the silk blouse that it almost felt ticklish. When she said nothing after a moment he started applying more pressure and moving his hands further down her trapezius muscles. Feeling his hands on her back, she realized how large his hands were and that they could easily span her back. She closed her eyes and worked on settling here into this moment and trying to find some measure of peace with him touching her. His hands moved up to the back of her neck and she immediately recalled when Lawrence had put his hands around her neck with the implied threat of strangling her. She instantly reached up and pushed Jack's hands, "Not my neck, please."

"Sure," Jack easily replied and his hands migrated back to her shoulder blades and then further down her back. If her bra straps that he could definitely feel through the silk fabric made it more difficult for him, he never commented on it. After a while, the massage didn't seem quite so strange or so foreign to her. It was comforting to her that Jack could touch her and she felt trusting and at peace with him. She started feeling hope that someday they could be sexual together again. She had some doubts that she hadn't wanted to admit or acknowledge, even to herself. That it would be difficult to reconcile herself now with his past. She knew they would have to talk about her rape and his past—but not tonight. He was accepting who she was at this moment and she was accepting him too.

"Jennifer," Jack began, interrupting her thoughts, "did you ever learn about Plato's Allegory of the Cave in college?"

Jennifer tilted her head to look up at him with an amused smile, "Plato? You're thinking of Plato right now?" Jack nodded so she answered, "I remember that vaguely from my Philosophy class, but that was the semester where I tried balancing my coursework with working at the Spectator so I don't remember too much."

"It's a story Plato told about people who lived their entire life in a cave and chained so they can't move and can only look forward. And no, I don't know how they managed to eat or use the bathroom, but let's just assume they didn't. These people can't see the fire that is burning behind them or feel its heat; they can only see the shadows of objects projected onto the wall that they're staring at. For their whole life, for their whole existence all those people know are those shadows on the wall. They don't know the real fire or the real objects behind them and they certainly don't know about the sun, which is so bright it makes even the fire appear dim in comparison. All they know is darkness and shadows."

Jack said all of this while continuing to massage her back, "Then one day, one person is freed from his chains and is able to look around. The firelight is blinding to him though and he fights against the person who freed him from his chains. But finally he's able to see the fire that has been behind him this whole time and he's finally able to understand that the shadows aren't real. They are merely a reflection or projection, whatever, of what is actually real. And in that understanding, comes truth, and with that truth comes the hope of a better life. A life where he gets to live out in the world, see real objects, interact with real objects and other people, and understand the sun as the source of all light and life. He is no longer imprisoned by his false conceptions and living half a life. He now knows what is real."

Jack leaned down to whisper into her ear; his breath was hot on her neck and tickled her ear. His hands stayed on her shoulder blades. "Before I knew you, I was that prisoner. I had no idea what real love was—all I ever knew were shadows. All I had were pale imitations of life, of love, of relationships. I knew no better. You freed me; you unchained me though I was kicking and fighting against you for months as you may remember. Do you remember that fire in that cave where we first made love? For me, that was the fire in Plato's Cave Allegory. You freed me and released me to a far, far better life. I know what love is now. I know what is real. I know it with you."

Jennifer had tears in her eyes hearing Jack's incredible admission of love. He was giving her all this incredible credit for saving him and was making her feel so special. Ever since Lawrence raped her, she had felt like nothing. She turned her head to face him; she brought her hand up to caress his cheek and then wiped the tears from her eyes. They watched each other for a long moment, neither wanting to break the spell. After about a hundred heartbeats, Jack lightly kissed her forehead, stood up straight again, and commenced with the massage once more.

Jennifer sat there speechless and trying to figure out how they (actually, how she) could ever get back to their Cave.

Jack continued with the massage for several more minutes letting the silence draw out between them.

"There's something I have to tell you," he began finally. "I hope you don't get upset."

Jennifer immediately stiffened and drew up her shoulders, prepared to shrug his hands off of her. "What?"

"I've hired some security for you. They've been tailing you since yesterday. Jennifer, I—."

"Why?" her voice sounded scared, sharp. She remembered Lawrence's guard too well.

Jack kept his hands on her back, like he'd promised but focused on her, not the massage. "Not to spy on you. I don't get any reports from them; I don't want any reports. I just want to make sure that you're not…hassled."

Jennifer tilted her head and glanced up at him; he looked anxious that she would be mad and concerned for her. "Hassled?" she asked.

"Yes, but I also didn't want you to realize someone was following you and get worried."

Jennifer breathed out, touched at his thoughtfulneess. It was a relief to know that Lawrence wouldn't get close to her and that Jack wanted to put her mind at ease. There was nothing he could do about the past; he couldn't change it, but he wanted to prevent anything from happening in the future.

She reached up with her left hand, grabbed his left hand and pulled him around so that he was kneeling in front of her. "I think you're wonderful."

"I'm not," Jack smiled. "I'm not wonderful. I'm just a passable facsimile of it with you," he reached up and tapped her nose.

Jennifer acted like she was mulling that over, "Hmm, what kind of burritos did you bring?"

"Chorizo and carnitas."

"You remembered. See? You are wonderful." She looked into his soulful blue eyes and then her gaze migrated down to his lips. She felt tempted to kiss him; just a quick kiss. Just to let him know how appreciative and relieved she felt that he had stuck by her despite learning the truth about her rape. However, she didn't want to push their relationship forward knowing that she would have to pull back. She wanted to show him how much his patience and understanding had meant to her. Impulsively, she leaned forward, put her arms around his neck and pulled him into a long hug.

"Thank you for the massage," she said while hugging him. "My back feels much better. Why don't we watch the movie?"

Jennifer didn't know, couldn't know, how much that hug had meant to him. His day had started out horribly, seeing those photos of an innocent hug between her and Steve that had been manipulated to appear tawdry and cuckolding. He felt so relieved that she felt equally comfortable hugging him.

She stood up, went past him and grabbed the paper-wrapped burritos from the bag, and tossed them in the microwave to reheat. Jennifer knew this would be one evening that her mind would stay diverted until at least 10:00 p.m. These few hours of peace that she would spend with Jack were freeing for her. However, she knew there would still be a long restless night ahead when Jack went home after the movie.