Episode tag to 1.7 "Silent Night," in which Jack and Sue have a phone conversation to thank one another for their gifts.
~0~
Sue was lying on her bed—the couch, that is, as her parents were staying in her room for the time being—on Christmas night, gazing around at the remaining detritus from the day's festivities, basking in the residual warmth of love and family and friends that had comprised her Christmas day. It was nearly 11:00 at night and everyone else had gone to bed a while ago. Sue couldn't sleep. Instead, she was sitting on the couch in her new favorite night shirt, AKA an oversized hockey jersey, fiddling with her Blackberry and contemplating whether she should call the man who'd given it to her or not. On the one hand, it was late. On the other hand, he was home in Wisconsin for the holidays so it was an hour earlier there. But then, that meant that maybe he was busy with family . . . .
While she was debating this, the Blackberry suddenly started vibrating in her hands, making her jump. She smiled when it lit up with his name. Pulling the microphone to her mouth as she clicked to answer, she said, "Hi, Jack."
Hi, Sue, she read on her screen in response. I'm not waking you up am I?
"No, actually, I was just sitting here wondering if it was too late to call you."
I'm not sure if my laughter gets written on your screen there but I definitely just laughed. It's an hour later there than here, and you're worried it's too late for me?
"I just didn't want to wake you, and didn't know if you would be busy with family if you were up. And no, things like laughter don't show on my screen, so thank you for telling me. It gives me a fuller picture."
Anytime.
They paused for a moment before Sue decided she should probably keep the conversation going. "Well, is there a specific reason you're calling, or did you just want to hear my sultry voice? At least, I assume it's sultry, I don't know, I've never heard it."
I'm laughing again. And I would probably say it's sultry except that I'm not sure I've ever fully understood what that means.
"Me either, come to think of it."
I was calling to thank you, actually, for the gift you gave me.
Sue laughed. "Yeah, I really like the gift you gave me, too. I'm wearing it right now."
Really? It's so late there, you're not even headed to bed yet? I had no idea you were such a party girl.
"Actually, I'm in bed. Well, on the couch, which is my bed as long as my parents are here. But an oversize shirt like this makes a great nightgown."
There was a pause. A long pause.
A very long pause.
"Jack? Are you still there?"
I um yes sorry. I'm here.
Sue smiled, both because she could picture his stutter and the pause that the Blackberry didn't give proper indication of, and because she was glad to know he was, in fact, still there. "Where'd you go? You didn't say anything for a while there."
I was um just trying to not picture you in the jersey without um. You know pants.
Sue felt herself flush and was very grateful he couldn't see her at that moment. "Well, even if you were here you wouldn't be seeing that, I have a blanket over my lap, mister."
And now you do in my mind too. Whew.
"Anyway, what about you?"
Yes I have pants on.
"Jack! I meant about the jersey! Have you worn it! What was your reaction when you opened it this morning?"
I have a confession. I opened it in the taxi on the way to the airport.
"Really?" she asked, laughing.
Well, at least you don't sound mad.
"Well, I have a confession too."
I know you didn't open it in the taxi, you didn't have a taxi ride. Did you get stuck in traffic on the way home and open it?
"Nope. I hadn't even left my desk yet when I opened it."
Sue! You didn't even try to wait, did you?
"Would you prefer I had? If I had, I wouldn't have been able to wear it last night as well as tonight."
I think picturing you wearing it is reward enough.
"I thought you said you weren't picturing me?"
I said you had a blanket over your lap in my mind!
"Nice save."
Well, I was a goalie for a while. Making saves was my job.
She chuckled again. "What if I didn't mind how you pictured me?" The moment the words left her mouth, she remembered that she was not supposed to be saying things like this to Jack Hudson, teammate and training agent at the FBI. "I—I mean—"
She hadn't finished stuttering out a correction before his next words were appearing on her screen. Why? Are you picturing me in just the jersey too?
Was . . . was he flirting back? Well, their banter often took on a somewhat flirty quality, but if he meant that how she thought he meant it, there was no "flirty quality" about it, that was downright flirting, if not fully coming onto her! But useful as the technology of TTY or a Blackberry was, not being able to see his face as he said it put her at a severe disadvantage. At least he could read her tone of voice. How she answered this one question mattered and she didn't want to say the wrong thing and either hurt him by making him think she wasn't interested in him, or hurt their friendship and working relationship by revealing that she was interested if he'd only been asking in confusion or something.
Before the pause could go on too long, she decided to throw the ball back in his court, keeping her response just flirty enough while still having plausible deniability. "Are you hoping I am?"
Possibly.
Her heart stuttered in her chest. "Well, then possibly I'm picturing you some way, but possibly not with the jersey . . . necessarily."
Then what?
"Then what . . . what?"
If you didn't mind me picturing you in just a jersey, what would you be picturing me in?
"On your own out there, or if we were in the same place?"
Either.
"Well . . . are you picturing me in just a jersey?"
Possibly.
"Jack!" she finally said, deciding she needed to get direct for a moment. "I can't read tone of voice on the screen. I don't know how you're hoping I'll answer and I don't want to say the wrong thing."
I'm sorry, I didn't think of that. I promise, whatever your answer is, I won't be mad or awkward about it. Um, but you don't have to answer if you don't want to, either.
She took a deep breath. "Then . . . I might be picturing you . . . without a shirt at all."
Huh. Is it a good look for me?
She could picture his face at that, going from worried while saying she didn't have to answer, to smiling when he asked if it was a good look. "I don't think there's such thing as a bad look for you," she admitted, heart racing as she wondered at her present boldness. "But even though I've never seen you without a shirt, I've seen you in well-fit t-shirts, and I've seen you in dress shirts that pull in all the right places, and from what I've seen, yeah, I think without a shirt is a very good look."
Hmm. Thank you. Now that I know you're looking I might have to choose my outfits accordingly. Though we could arrange for you to see me without a shirt too.
"Okay, smart guy, well, for the record, I do think you were lying about something earlier."
Excuse me? I am the soul of honesty.
"Uh-huh. Then tell me honestly—are you wearing pants right now?"
Um.
When no more words came through, she laughed. "I knew it! You're in your boxers, right?"
Uh, boxer-briefs, actually. Best of both worlds.
She swallowed for a moment. "Well that—" She had to pause to clear her throat. "Uh, adds a whole new layer of clarity." After another pause she decided to switch to at least mildly safer ground. "Well, what about me? You've never seen me without pants, how can you picture me in just a jersey?"
I've seen you in dresses, it's not a far leap to picture your gorgeous legs extending out from the jersey. Though, in my mind it would be a jersey that belongs to me and you just threw it on after . Because it was convenient.
"Sorry, Jack, after what? I think a word got lost there, the Blackberry did something weird and there's like a big space and then just a period without finishing the sentence."
Um. I was clearing my throat. I decided not to continue the part I was saying there. My point was that it would be a jersey I had worn.
Oh! After . . . ah. Her heart was beyond pounding, now. It had no idea what a regular rhythm was anymore. She cleared her own throat and said, "Um . . . well, the rest aside, I do wish you'd worn it. Before you gave it to me, I mean."
You do? Why?
"Because . . . then it would smell like you."
How about when I get back we'll trade. Don't wash it first. Then we can each sleep in them smelling like each other.
She hesitated only a moment before daring to say, "There are other ways to smell each other."
Yes there are. And I'm certainly not precluding those options either.
"Jack . . . does this mean what I think it means?"
I really hope so. Because I've been wanting to mean this for two and a half months, ever since you walked into the bullpen for the first time.
"Well, just to make sure we're both on the same page here, would you mind spelling it out for me?"
Susan Thomas, would you go out with me when I get back? Not just on a date—I don't know the right way to say this. Be my girlfriend? Go out with me exclusively? Form a relationship? And, uh, maybe . . . if you want to keep calling and flirting with me between now and then, I wouldn't mind that either.
She laughed. "Yes, of course I will! To all of the above." She hoped he could hear the implied wink in her voice. "Um, but what about . . . policy?"
Not as cut and dry as people like to make it out to be. I'll explain more when I'm home, it's too complicated for a phone call.
"Then why did you wait so long? Jack, I've been right here, why couldn't you talk to me about this when we were together and I could have kissed you right then?" She swallowed hard, hoping she wasn't being too fast or forward . . . but then, she'd practically admitted to picturing him nearly naked. Why should admitting to wanting to kiss him be harder?
Because I'm a coward.
"Stop that. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known."
Dashing into a room filled with terrorists is one thing. Diffusing a bomb? Sure. But putting my heart on the line with someone I know really matters? That's terrifying.
"I know the feeling. I've had too many guys ask me out just on a dare or to prank me in some way, or because they felt sorry for me, or thought I'd be easy to take advantage of because I'm deaf . . . the list goes on. I have a very hard time trusting anybody in the romance department, and when I meet this great guy who I know can really touch my heart and who I believe I can really trust, but then I'm in a position where we're not supposed to date . . . I wish I'd known sooner that the rule isn't as cut and dry as all that."
Actually, I only know because I've recently been looking into it more. Because this conversation or some variation on it was going to happen one way or another.
She smiled. "How long until you get back? Calling and flirting is one thing but I really want to see you."
Just a couple days. I promised my mom I'd stay longer than just Christmas day, but I didn't want to take a whole week off because there's this really great woman who started working with me a couple months ago and even though I didn't tell her or my mom that this factored into my decision, I didn't want to be away from from her that long.
"Jack," she breathed out. "Are you serious? You planned Christmas with your family based on how long you would be away from me?"
Don't tell my mom, she'd start out hurt and then immediately switch to the third degree about you.
"You don't want to tell your mom about me?" She tried not to sound hurt but wasn't sure she succeeded.
I want to tell everyone about you. You're amazing and I'm so proud of you. I just don't want to listen to my mom demanding to know the exact course our relationship will take and the time frame of everything from here to there.
"Yikes. Sounds familiar, except with my mom it would be dictating, not questioning. And then she'll tell you every positive thing she can think of about me like she has to put me on display and present me as 'don't worry about that pesky missing hearing, she can make up for it in all these other ways!'"
I bet I could shut her up.
"Really? How. Because if I weren't already in lo—in a relationship with you, that would be enough to make me fall head over heels."
Easy. I'd just start listing all the things I love about you until she realized that I had her beat in being able to list your good qualities, because I promise you that she can't possibly be in love with as many of your qualities as I am. Some of them, it would be really weird if she were. I'm laughing again as I say that, by the way.
But Sue wasn't laughing with him, she was staring dreamily at the words on the screen, reading and re-reading to make sure she hadn't imagined or misinterpreted them. "In love?"
Well, saying that she couldn't be as in a relationship with your qualities as I am didn't quite make sense. If you could see me I'd be winking when I said that.
"Ah. You caught that."
I did.
"Does that . . . bother you? For me to feel that way already?"
Does it bother you for me to?
"No, because I do too. But it scares me."
Me too. But in the best way.
"Yeah." She bit her lower lip as she smiled.
You should probably go to bed soon.
"I don't know how I could sleep after this."
Me either. But only two more sleeps until I get home.
"I can hardly wait."
Me too.
"Want me to pick you up at the airport?"
Do you want to?
"I'd love to."
Will you wear the jersey?
"Only if you'll wear yours."
You bet.
"Can . . . can I kiss you hello when we get there?"
If you don't, I will.
She giggled. "You'll kiss yourself hello?"
You know what I mean. Do you know how hard it is not to kiss you?
"Can't say I've ever tried. But I know how hard it is not to kiss you. I imagine it will be even harder now, at least when we're at work where we shouldn't . . . so we'll probably have to make up for it on our own time."
Count on it.
"I wish I could somehow feel or smell you. I have some friends who go to sleep on the phone with their boyfriends, just listening to them breathe, but as soon as you stop talking I get nothing, and as soon as I close my eyes everything is gone."
I'm wishing for a lot more than that, but one step at a time. Goodnight, Sue.
"Goodnight, Jack. Merry Christmas."
Merry Christmas to you. And I love you.
"I love you too."
As the call ended, she had to blink happy tears out of her eyes, and then she had to make a cup of calming tea to help her sleep. As she was settling back on the couch with her tea, Lucy came up to her.
"Hey," Sue said, "what are you doing awake?"
"I got up to use the bathroom," Lucy said. "Better question: from in the bathroom, did I actually just hear the words, 'Goodnight, Jack, Merry Christmas,' followed after a slight pause by the words, 'I love you too'?!"
Sue froze, staring at her roommate and best friend for just a moment. "Um . . . well, whether you heard those words or not, I don't know . . . ."
"Susan Katherine Thomas! Spill!"
Sue glanced down at her mug of tea. "Jack called to thank me for the Christmas gift I gave him."
"Uh huh. What'd you give him, a diamond ring?"
"Very funny. No, I gave him this," she said, tugging a little at her jersey.
"Then . . . why do you have it?"
"Because this one is the Christmas gift he gave me."
"Okaaaay . . . why do I feel like you're leaving a lot out of this story?"
"Yup, and there's a lot that's going to stay left out because that should be kept . . . ." She took a deep breath. "-between a girlfriend and her boyfriend."
"WHAT?!" Sue couldn't hear Lucy's shriek, of course, but from Lucy's face and the movement of her throat, she could only imagine it was loud.
"Shhhh! Don't you dare wake my parents up!"
"Sue, are you messing with me?"
"No! We got talking about the jersey and . . . flirting a bit."
"Hardly unusual for you two."
"Well, this kind of flirting was. It was a little more . . . salacious than anything we've ever talked about. Actually, than any flirting I've ever been involved in."
Lucy raised her eyebrows and nodded approvingly. "You go, girl!"
"Anyway," Sue continued, simultaneously smacking Lucy with a throw pillow, "Jack has apparently been looking into it and the no dating policy isn't as strict as people think, and he's going to explain to me more when he gets back about how we can make it work and still work together, but . . . yeah." She had been suppressing a small smile that teased the edges of her lips throughout the conversation, but now she broke into a radiant grin and even gave a small laugh. "Lucy! He said he's already in love with me and I told him I'm already in love with him and . . . gahh, how am I going to sleep tonight?"
"Sleep?! Girl, we are going to spend the whole night talking!"
Sue giggled again, then glanced toward her bedroom door. "Okay, but can we go talk in your bedroom? The last thing we need is my parents coming out of my room and hearing us."
"You got it. Come on!"
~0~
While the girls had their gossip fest, which, intentions aside, did turn into eventual sleep on Lucy's bed, 900 miles away, Jack lay in his childhood bedroom, still decorated with all his favorite hockey heroes, falling asleep as visions of matching jerseys danced in his head.
