Alternate ending for 2.2 "The Sniper," in which the rest of the team heads to dinner before Sue talks to Jack, and he doesn't take her concern quite so well . . . at least at first.
AN: I typically don't like anger-to-romance scenes but it's when it's coming from a place of love, rather than coming from a place of angry passion that yields to lustful passion. I hope it's clear which this one is.
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The rest of the team had left for Connigan's, but Sue asked Jack to stay behind just a moment so she could talk to him. She took a deep breath. "I don't mind telling you . . . there were times this week that I had . . . less than kind thoughts of you. Because of the danger you put yourself in," she quickly clarified. "They were mixed in with the moments that I was praying for you."
He let out a small, almost indignant puff of air. "I appreciate the concern but I knew what I was doing."
She furrowed her brow. "I know you did. That's . . . part of what concerns me. You knew the exact risk you were taking and you purposely made yourself a target. Without even discussing it with anyone!"
"It was my call to make, Sue."
She felt the anger rising in her again. "Jack, if something happens to you . . . you realize you're not the only one it affects, right? I'm asking you, please don't do that again! I don't—I can't—" She felt tears coming to her eyes.
Suddenly, Jack's irritation abated all at once. She wasn't trying to tell him how to run an operation. She wasn't trying to tell him what to do. She was worried about him. As a person. "Sue, I—I'm sorry. I didn't—I don't want to bring anybody pain, but I would rather something happen to me than to anyone else out there. My only regret—" He stopped.
"What?"
Jack glanced down at his hands, either remembering or simply avoiding her eyes. "When he shot the coffee cup out of my hand . . . you were standing right there and didn't even know it had happened, you were looking down at that moment. If anything had happened to you . . . if he had an inkling of what you mean to me and decided to . . . to harm you instead . . . ."
"What I mean to you?"
"Exactly."
"No, I mean . . . what . . . ." This conversation was just starting to go around in circles. She took a deep breath once again and tried a new tactic. "Jack, I know we put our lives on the line every day, but that's with things that we deem an acceptable risk."
"And I deemed that an acceptable risk."
"And if it had been anyone else you wouldn't have!"
"No, I wouldn't have, which is why I didn't ask it of anyone else, I did it myself. Otherwise those two guys could still be out there picking off innocents."
"I know, but—Jack, you're not an acceptable risk! Not to me!"
He started to argue again, but noticed her words, caught something in her face, thought maybe . . . then he hesitated, not wanting to assume too much. "Why?"
She searched his eyes, trying to find the right words to answer him, found none, and instead launched herself into his arms and kissed him fervently. She poured into that kiss all the feelings she'd been hiding since the day they met, all the fear she'd had for him over this past week and every other time his life had been in danger, all the frustration she felt trying to figure out how to explain to him that he couldn't just go gambling his life unnecessarily. All the love that she had in her.
He stumbled slightly at the unexpected impact of the woman of his dreams flying into his arms, but recovered himself quickly, hugging her tight and kissing her back with equal fervor.
When they finally broke the kiss, though still clinging tightly to one another, she stared at him as she sought to catch her breath, willing him to understand. After a moment, when he had said nothing, she said simply, "That's why."
"That—that's a good reason. Can't argue with that one."
She smiled. "I wondered if I'd ever find something you couldn't argue with."
"See if you can find another, you might find I'm in quite an agreeable mood," he teased.
"Well," she said, slowly and deliberately, "how about this one? I know we said we'd meet everyone at Connigan's for an Awesome Special, but as it happens, I think you're pretty awesome . . . ."
He smiled, seeing where she was going with this. "And you're pretty special."
"So what do you say we go back to my apartment instead and . . . see if we can figure out a few more points to make?"
He leaned in to press another quick kiss to her lips before saying, "I love the way you think."