Mount Rainier (the meeting)

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The mountain road twisted and turned, the curves tightening as they climbed higher. Audrey felt the chill in the air as the altitude increased, but she didn't mind. Her body moved instinctively with the bike, leaning into each turn, trusting Jack's control. It was thrilling—this ride through the wilderness.

They hadn't passed another vehicle in a while, the roads growing narrower and more desolate the farther they went. There was nothing but her and Jack and the hum of the engine beneath them, a steady, reassuring tone. It struck her how quickly they'd left the city behind, exchanging its noise and pressure for the stillness of the Washington state wilderness. Washington state, Washington DC. They couldn't be any more different. Audrey couldn't help but smile as she realized something else—Jack wasn't racing. He was obviously not pushing the bike to its limits, though she was sure this bike had been treated differently in the previous weeks. Instead, he was riding with a kind of quiet caution, the speed controlled, the turns taken smoothly.

She realized how protective he was. The thought warmed her in a way she hadn't expected. From the gear he'd brought along for her, to the detailed plan he'd crafted to get her away from her security detail, to this very ride—every action, every decision, which seemed to be thoughtful, measured. It was absurd in a way; they were speeding along a lonely mountain road toward a peak she'd never seen up close before, yet she felt safer than she had in years. Jack had a way of doing that—making her feel watched over, cared for, even when everything around them seemed reckless and unorthodox.

The road straightened briefly, and Audrey caught sight of a gate up ahead. The large metal bars stretched across the pavement, the sign beside it clear and bold: Closed for the Season. As they drew closer, Jack slowed the bike to a stop, the engine rumbling softly beneath them.

Jack opened his visor, turned slightly, and told her "You'll have to get off for a second."

Audrey swung her leg over and stood by the roadside, watching as he maneuvered the bike off the paved road and onto the dirt shoulder. He guided it around the edge of the gate, steering it back onto the road just beyond the barrier. A few yards farther, he stopped and waited for her, tilting his head slightly as if to ask: What are you waiting for?

She approached him and opened the visor of her helmet. Her laughter bubbled up before she could stop it. "Were you supposed to do that?" she asked, pointing at the gate.

Jack's smile was unmistakable, even beneath the helmet. The faint creases around his eyes deepened as his cheeks lifted. "Aren't you supposed to be in your hotel room?" he countered, his tone light, teasing.

Audrey playfully swatted his arm before climbing back onto the bike. She adjusted her position, wrapping her arms securely around his waist once more, and felt his steady presence beneath the leather jacket. She'd spent much of the ride wondering where he was taking her. For a brief moment earlier, she'd entertained the idea that he might take her to his motel room. The thought had filled her with a mix of excitement and… what was it? Fear? Bein afraid of making a mistake? Or of being in a situation where she'd have to say 'no' but couldn't? Hell, she'd never say no, she'd never have the strength to, even if her brain told her so.

She'd prepared herself just in case—fresh clothes, even carefully chosen underwear, the beautiful sort, though she'd laughed at her own reflection in the mirror after she'd put it on. It won't come to that, she'd told herself. But still, she wanted to be prepared. For the little chance it might happen anyway.

Now, as she looked around at the towering evergreens and the looming presence of Mount Rainier ahead, she was sure Jack had something else planned. Something adventurous, something far from the polished world of D.C. and her controlled, curated life. She smiled to herself. Of course he did. He wasn't the blunt type who'd just take her back to his room.

They continued their ascent. The road narrowed further, the asphalt cracked in places and edged with patches of moss. It was clear this path hadn't been traveled in months, and yet it carried an untouched beauty that took Audrey's breath away. She tilted her head slightly, catching glimpses of the towering pines and the faint glint of snow farther up the slope. The air was cold, sharp against her skin where it slipped past the helmet.

With each curve they rounded, she felt the mountain drawing her in, its vast wilderness wrapping around them. She let her thoughts drift, imagining what Jack's journey through Canada must have been like. Had the roads been as wild and quiet as this one? She made a mental note to ask him when they stopped.

For now, she let herself enjoy the ride. The small, quiet moments—the press of her gloves against his jacket, the warmth of his presence, the way the road seemed to stretch endlessly ahead—felt more meaningful than she could have ever anticipated. She didn't need to know exactly where they were going. She trusted him completely, and that was enough.

After ten minutes winding along the mountain road, Jack brought the bike to a gentle stop at a viewpoint by the side of Mount Rainier. Ahead of them lay a large parking lot. A few benches scattered near the edge hinted at the kind of place that, in the summer, would be bustling with families and tourists. But today, it was empty—just the two of them, surrounded by endless-seeming wilderness.

Audrey climbed off the bike first, her movements deliberate as she tried to calm the flutter in her chest. Her attention flitted between the breathtaking view and Jack, who swung his leg off the bike and stretched his body after the two-hour ride. She didn't know what excited her more: the sheer beauty of the mountain or the man who had brought her here.

Jack parked the bike carefully and pulled off his helmet, running his hand through his hair to comb the disheveled blonde back. Audrey hesitated for a moment, clutching her own helmet as if it might shield her from the flush in her cheeks. But there was no hiding it. She sighed quietly, set her helmet on the seat beside his, and turned to face him.

Jack's eyes flicked to her reddened cheeks, concern flashing across his face. "Are you cold?" he asked, his tone soft, almost worried.

"A little," she lied, her voice steady even as her heart raced. She was anything but cold – rather burning inside. She wouldn't admit the truth—that the heat in her cheeks came from being so close to him, from the way he looked at her, as if she were the only person in the world.

Jack tilted his head slightly, studying her. He didn't press further, simply gesturing toward the benches that sat in the sunlight. "Let's head over there. It's warmer in the sun."

As they walked, Audrey felt his hand brush against the small of her back—a fleeting, almost unconscious gesture. But his touch sent a spark of electricity through her, a feeling she tried desperately to ignore. When they reached the viewpoint, she lingered by the railing instead of sitting down. The view was too captivating.

To the north, the sprawling cities of Tacoma and Seattle were visible, their skylines softened by the faint haze of smog. To the west, the shimmering line of the Pacific stretched until the horizon. Audrey rested her hands on the railing, taking it all in. The sheer scale of it was almost overwhelming, and she wondered how stunning it might look in a few hours, bathed in the colors of sunset.

Behind her, Mount Rainier loomed, its snowy peaks piercing the sky. She turned to Jack, her curiosity piqued. "Can we go higher?" she asked.

Jack laughed softly, shaking his head. "Only if you've got hiking boots or snowshoes," he replied. He gestured toward the road behind them. "This is about as high as we can safely get on a bike."

Audrey narrowed her eyes slightly, studying his expression. There was something familiar in his tone, a hint of hesitation. "You've been here before, haven't you?" she asked, her voice probing gently.

Jack hesitated before nodding. "Yes."

"Yesterday?" she pressed.

He nodded again, his lips curving into a faint, self-deprecating smile. "Well…" He trailed off, but the simple word said everything. She understood. He had scouted the route in advance, ensuring their trip would be perfect—and, above all, safe. She imagined he might have taken the road a little further, deciding that it wasn't safe to travel. If only in Canada he'd made such decisions.

Audrey closed the small distance between them, wrapping her arms around him without a second thought. The embrace was warm and genuine, a silent acknowledgment of all he'd done for her. "Thanks," she whispered near his ear. "This is great."

They stood together at the railing for a while, leaning into each other as they gazed out at the horizon. And somehow, they found their perfect position. As close as they wanted to be, but shying away from the intimacy they were both afraid to admit. Jack's front pressed lightly against her back as she stood at the railing, their arms brushing and occasionally tangling. They pointed out landmarks from the drive, laughing softly as they pieced together the twists and turns that had brought them here.

And suddenly, their conversation flowed effortlessly, the banter and easy teasing coming as naturally as it had during their phone calls as they spoke for what felt like an eternity. Audrey found herself laughing—really laughing—for the first time in what felt like forever. "I saw the scratches on the bike," she teased, when they talked about his ride through Canada. Her tone light but knowing.

Jack smirked. "I bought it that way," he replied smoothly, the lie so casual it was almost convincing.

"You said you bought it new. New," she countered, her grin widening.

"Production error," he deadpanned.

They both burst into laughter, the sound echoing faintly in the stillness of the mountain. Audrey tilted her head slightly, her eyes finding his face. He was staring out into the distance, but smiling—a real, unguarded smile—and it warmed her more than the sunlight ever could. She traced the lines on his face with her gaze, the marks of a life that had seen too much pain, too many battles. Yet here he was, sharing this moment with her, and for that, she felt profoundly grateful. For seeing him smile again.

"Really?" she pressed, raising an eyebrow.

Jack chuckled, still looking out at the horizon. "Yeah. Really. CIA rule number two: always stick with your lie, even if you're caught."

Audrey shook her head, amused. "Rule number two?" she echoed. "How many rules are there?" She remembered the one he'd called rule one: always make others talk.

Jack's smile faltered for a split second as his mind wandered briefly to his days in the CIA. But he quickly refocused, turning his attention back to her. Her cheeks were still tinged with red, and he noticed her slight shiver. "You're cold," he said, his voice gentle. "I guess we should get going."

He stepped back reluctantly, creating just enough space for Audrey to turn toward him. She met his gaze, her eyes searching his. "Where are we going next?" she asked, the hint of curiosity in her tone making it clear she wasn't ready to return to the city just yet.

Jack considered her for a moment before asking, "Are you hungry?"

Audrey shrugged lightly. "I could eat."

"There's a diner on the way back to the city," he offered. "It's nothing fancy, but it's warm."

Audrey laughed softly, her eyes sparkling. "You're cold?" she teased, reaching out to toy with the zipper of his leather jacket. "California boy?"

Jack grinned. "May I remind you that I'm coming straight out of Alaska?" he quipped as they began walking back to the bike. "Compared to that - it's warm here," he added, but what he didn't add was that in Alaska, he'd worn a whole different set of gear. And had still frozen his butt off.

"Yeah, sure," Audrey teased, pulling off one of her gloves. Before Jack could react, she pressed her cold hand to the back of his neck.

Jack let out a startled scream, his entire body jerking in response. In one smooth motion, he ducked away from her hand and twisted around, catching her in a mock self-defense maneuver. He held her firmly but gently, laughing as he teased, "I can do that, too."

She felt his right hand firmly gripping her, immobilizing her with a strength she hadn't anticipated. Somehow, he'd managed to seize her left arm tightly, pinning her in a way that made even her right arm useless under his grab. He pressed her back against his chest with an unyielding hold, trapping her so completely that escape seemed impossible. It was almost like a sleeper hold—or worse, she realized, his free hand could effortlessly snap her neck. Even that small glimpse of his skills was impressive.

Before she could protest, he pulled off his left glove with his teeth and held up his hand, its coldness evident. Audrey's laughter turned into a squeal as he playfully threatened to slip it under her jacket.

"Okay! I give up!" she shouted, her voice ringing out across the empty lot.

The echo of her words bounced back a moment later, a faint echo, telling her to give up. Audrey's eyes widened, and then she let out another shout—this one purely for the joy of it. Jack, still lightly holding her arm, released her as they doubled over in laughter. Audrey spun around, throwing her arms wide as she screamed again, letting the sound carry across the wilderness.

For the next few minutes, she shouted anything that came to mind, her voice filling the void. "I hate my job!", she screamed at the mountain, "Janice, you bitch!" she yelled, her voice fierce with years of pent-up frustration. "Fuck you, Agent Garrett!" She turned to Jack briefly, grinning as she added one more, last outburst "What the hell have I gotten myself into?"

Jack was already seated on the bike, one foot steady on the ground as he watched her with an amused smile. The sound of her shouts and the pure, unrestrained emotion in her voice made his chest tighten—not with worry, but with admiration.

When Audrey finally staggered back toward the bike, her cheeks flushed and her breath coming in gasps, she looked at him, and for the first time, she realized that she didn't feel the slightest bit embarrassed. She thought back to the night he'd told her to smash porcelain, to let out her rage and grief. This felt the same—cathartic, freeing.

"You better?" Jack asked, though the look in his eyes told her he already knew the answer.

Audrey nodded, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Yeah. I am."

Jack handed her the helmet with a small, knowing smile. She slipped it on, settled into place behind him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. The bike rumbled to life beneath them, and they sped off, leaving the echo of her laughter behind.

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The diner was small and old, with faded red vinyl booths and a faint smell of coffee lingering in the air. Audrey took in the scene as they walked in—quiet, almost sleepy, the kind of place where the regulars would have their coffee mugs waiting for them at the counter. But her attention quickly shifted to Jack. She noticed how his sharp eyes moved almost imperceptibly, scanning the room with a practiced ease that reminded her of who he was at his core.

When he gestured toward a booth at the far end of the dining hall, she understood immediately. It wasn't just a seat; it was a position. Jack slid in first, his back to the wall, giving him a full view of the room. From there, he could see the entrance, the counter, and the door to the kitchen—likely his chosen emergency exit, she realized. He hadn't said a word about it, but his movements spoke volumes. That was the side of him she knew existed, but the one she'd never seen. She'd heard him talk about missions, about losses, over the phone, but she hadn't seen him in action. Right now, she hoped she never would. But the way he scanned their surroundings, she knew a part of him was in action. Because of her… because of the situation? Or just because he couldn't shake off being Jack? She wondered, if it had been the same up in Alaska. If he also had selected his seat in a diner like he did now, like he was constantly bracing for danger.

Audrey followed his lead, settling into the bench across from him. He shrugged off his leather motorcycle jacket, placing it on the bench next to him. Beneath the jacket, he wore a plain blue button-up shirt, the top buttons undone to reveal a white t-shirt underneath. Her gaze caught on something she hadn't noticed before—a gun, hidden in a pancake holster at his back. With a casual movement, Jack slipped the holster free and tucked it discreetly beneath the jacket that now lay beside him on the bench.

She felt a rush of adrenaline, a cold siver. She hadn't expected it. But this was Jack. He was the kind of person who always thought ahead, always prepared for the worst.

She leaned over the table slightly, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "You thought of everything, didn't you?" she asked, her tone casual but with a clear undertone that hinted at the gun beneath his jacket.

Jack's features shifted, his expression turning serious for a brief moment. He met her gaze directly, his voice low and even. "There's a fine line between being crazy or just stupid," he said.

The weight of his words hung between them, unspoken but understood. Audrey nodded, the significance of what he was saying settling over her. The gun wasn't about paranoia—it was about that silent promise he'd made to keep her safe. And about the harsh reality that suddenly came back to her mind. In this crazy escape, he was still the one calculating the risks, shielding her from the dangers that were out there, and that she just couldn't shake off. And though she was miles away from her hotel room, from the Secretary of Defense, from her Secret Service detail that still – hopefully – believed her to be there, she realized that this threat clung to her. It wasn't just the Secret Service. She was the problem. And no matter if they'd shake off the agents, she'd never be able to shake off that threat. Todays freedom might just have been an illusion. And instead of taking the safe way, with Agent Garret and Agent Callahan and the rest of her father's Secret Service detail, she had taken the crazy way and even pulled Jack into something she never wanted him to be back in.

"Thank you," she said softly, her voice steady and full of meaning. She didn't elaborate. She didn't need to. Those two words carried everything she felt—gratitude, trust, and something deeper that she wasn't ready to put into words.

Jack's serious expression softened slightly, and he allowed himself the faintest smile. "You don't have to thank me, Audrey," he said quietly, "It was the least I could do. I have to thank you. For everything."

The words touched her. She could see that he was toeing a line they hadn't crossed yet, a line they both had avoided to get near, today.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of his words lingering between them. Audrey held his gaze, and for once, she didn't look away. And right as she was about to open her mouth and ready to say something she'd later call stupid, the waitress showed up to take their orders.

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