(Un)masked
Chapter 6. Walls crumbling
She turned, looking him in the face. Her black eyes wet but unrelenting. "Do you know what this means?" Isobel said, her voice hoarse.
Jubal read her mind. "I do. He's going for it and we're moving forward," he replied, with a tight lump in his throat.
·~·~·
The forensic team took the package along with all its contents to process them for clues. Jubal returned to the JOC to try to trace with their analysts the receipt of the parcel back to its origin.
Meanwhile, the knot in Isobel's stomach prevented her from finishing her lunch. She barely managed to keep down what she already ate. She threw the leftovers into the wastebasket. Her hands were shaking and a cold sweat made her shiver.
Suddenly, Isobel could no longer contain her nausea; she staggered into the bathroom adjoining her office.
After throwing up, she didn't feel much better.
Isobel couldn't feel safe anywhere anymore. Not even at 26 Fed, a freaking FBI building. Her heart was in her throat and she felt like she was going to throw it up too. She wished she could tell Jubal, using his support to steady her. But part of her was terrified to show herself vulnerable to him at this level. She would just become a nervous wreck in front of Jubal, shaky and useless. She wouldn't let this happen.
With an effort, Isobel stood and rinsed her mouth with some water from the sink. A handful of unsteady steps took her back to her desk. She managed to muster enough presence of mind to close the blinds overlooking the rest of the office before sitting.
She spent a while there just trying to calm down. She could still feel the blood rushing through her veins. Looking for a distraction, Isobel opened her laptop and continued to review the videos from last night.
She and Jubal went to bed, and pretended to be asleep. Isobel adjusted the viewing to several times the speed and a couple of hours passed quickly on the video, during which it seemed they were asleep.
Then there was movement, and Isobel returned the playback to normal speed. She watched herself stand up, expression impassive, and leave the room. Oh, there it was. The sleepwalk Jubal told her about.
It took him a while to follow her. When he did, it seemed at first he was just going to put her back to bed. But in the hallway, the Isobel on the screen embraced him, gently at first.
And suddenly, she was all over Jubal.
The memory of the sensations from her dream assailed Isobel, with such vividness, a roaring heat spread throughout her body. In the images, she was witnessing precisely what she dreamed. She was pushing him against the wall, kissing him eagerly.
With barely a second's hesitation, Jubal reciprocated fully. Isobel shuddered violently, desire now consuming her flesh as a sense of betrayal squeezed her heart mercilessly. He lied to me. Again, she thought, so furiously her teeth ground, her throat strangled. On the screen, Jubal seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. Worse, another voice inside replied, cold and cruel. He took advantage of you and lied to you to cover it up.
His somewhat suspicious behavior earlier, when she told him about it, now made sense.
Something was shattering inside her, when the Jubal in the image pulled away with difficulty and looked Isobel in the face. The revelation in his eyes and the disappointment on his face were as startling as they were heartbreaking: Jubal thought Isobel woke up before she started kissing him in such a manner. So overt was it, Isobel even felt ashamed to have spied on this moment of his raw vulnerability.
In the video, she tried to keep kissing him, and it was obvious Jubal had a hard time resisting... but he did anyway. Grimacing, he took her by the shoulders and led her with gentle hands back to the bed, where he carefully tucked her in.
Anger suddenly left Isobel's body like pressurized air escaping from an airtight punctured tank, leaving her deflated and gaping. Her heartbeat changed rhythm so many times in the last few minutes she felt exhausted. Jubal's lie still irritated her, but the massive relief unexpectedly fueled her desire, putting everything else aside. Without really stopping to think about it, Isobel rewound the recording and replayed it from the moment they entered the hallway.
She watched Jubal return her first embrace, seeing unfeigned affection in his gesture this time. And she had no doubt it was she who transformed it into something else. Isobel recalled with relish the dream, which turned out not to be such. As she watched what she and Jubal were doing in the images, more sensory details came to Isobel, shooting physical responses all over her skin. His mouth responding hungrily, his large hands running over her hips and waist; the rush of their kisses, the close contact of their bodies. His undeniable desire. This was no simple physiological reaction. Isobel bit her lip, her eyes narrowing.
Terribly heated, she slammed the laptop shut. How embarrassing.
She opened a button on her blouse and fanned herself with one of the files on her desk. Well, she was now out of breath just the same, but at least her anxiety attack was gone for a while.
·~·~·
Unfortunately, it didn't last long. The weight of the situation was too great.
Upon arriving home with Jubal, Isobel was plagued by a renewed sense of paranoia. During the drive, she felt invisible eyes watching her along every stretch of road they drove down, at every corner they turned.
Outwardly, she managed to do a magnificent job maintaining her composure, but Jubal sensed she was not well, nonetheless. He asked her several times, but came up against a frustrating reinforced wall of her reserve.
After hanging her coat at the hall, Isobel clenched her fists as she entered the darkened house. Suddenly, the feeling of being watched set her nerves on edge.
She glanced over her shoulder and the memory of David Owen throwing himself at her burst upon her mind with unexpected, suffocating force. Although she knew perfectly well Jubal was walking behind her, it didn't stop her from jumping when she saw his bulky frame silhouetted against the light coming through the glass on either side of the door.
Leaning against the hallway wall, Isobel wrapped her arms around herself.
After turning on the lights, Jubal approached her, extremely concerned. "Are you okay?" he asked, his hands reaching forward.
Isobel flinched away from his touch, cursing the weakness of her absurd reaction.
"Perfectly fine," she retorted harshly.
She was not. By the time they reached the living room, her hands were shaking, the nausea returned, and she could barely breathe.
Jubal watched her in dismay. He could guess what she was going through. Truth be told, he was scared too.
"Isobel," he called softly. "What's wrong? Talk to me."
She retreated, shaking her head.
The rejection hurt, but Jubal wouldn't leave her alone to deal with this. Approaching slowly, he simply pulled her close and hugged her. Isobel stiffened at first, not understanding his intentions. The stalker was not online at the moment. Jubal just held her in his arms.
"Shh..."
He stroked her back, wordlessly conveying his support. Slowly, the warm, comforting sensation won out over Isobel's frantic restlessness. She began to relax. The mistrust between them of a few weeks ago reduced to a faint shadow. Hesitantly, she surrendered to accept the emotional solidity Jubal offered her, and wrapped her arms around him.
They remained like this for a long time, until Isobel regained her composure.
"Better?" Jubal murmured when he finally felt her breathing steady again.
"Yeah... I'm sorry." She shouldn't have to need Jubal this way, and she hated herself for it.
"You don't have to apologize. I'm here for you, okay?"
Pulling back slightly, Isobel looked into his face with uncertain but moved eyes. The affection she found in his expression was overwhelming. And the urge to return it, almost unstoppable. She brought her mouth close, on the verge of kissing him. Their labored breathing mingled into one.
In the van, his agents double-checked with raised eyebrows the stalker was still offline.
Fighting as strenuously against the shame of her frailty as she did against herself, Isobel finally found the strength to pull away.
"I'll go change my clothes," she muttered, and fled down the hallway.
She left Jubal behind, who bowed his head dejectedly.
When she returned to the living room, Isobel found him sitting on her couch, his head thrown back against the backrest. He was very still. The relaxation of his limbs and face, his slow, deep breathing, told her he was sound asleep. He must have been exhausted after spending most of the previous night awake.
What do I do with you?, wondered Isobel, feeling disarmed.
After a few moments of hesitation, she crouched beside him and carefully removed his shoes. Then she gently laid him onto his side. She unfolded a blanket she kept around and placed it over him, to make him more comfortable.
As the warmth enveloped Jubal, he seemed to ease in, a tender little growl escaping him. Isobel sat on the edge of the couch, intently studying his features, now placid with sleep. She knew she shouldn't, but with a quiet sigh, she reached out and gently stroked his cheek. Jubal unconsciously sought the contact. Something she couldn't help but recognize surged with uncontrollable force inside Isobel. She let her hand linger a little longer, but at last, fearing Jubal would awaken, she withdrew it.
Uneasy, she got up and went to find something to do with herself.
·~·~·
"Jubal."
Isobel's voice and a gentle pressure on his shoulder woke him. Jubal blinked, quickly becoming aware he fell asleep. His next thought was of concern for her.
"Are you all right?"
Isobel was standing by the couch, a cryptic expression on her face masterfully concealing her emotions, save for the slightest curl of one corner of her mouth.
"Everything is fine. Dinner is ready."
"Oh, OK," Jubal replied in a daze but relieved. "Sorry I fell asleep."
He noticed, while he was sleeping, someone took off his shoes and covered him with a blanket. He wanted to ask Isobel, but she interrupted him.
"No worries. Come on, we could use something to eat. Go get changed."
"Um... Is he connected?"
"No."
This was worrying. Did it mean the stalker lost interest despite the note? Or perhaps he was about to attack? Jubal decided he needed to be more alert.
When he returned to the living room, the dining table was already set, the food served. They sat facing each other.
"Mmm... This is very good" Jubal commented. He was pleased to see Isobel was also eating with an appetite.
Meanwhile, she watched Jubal with serene reserve. Doing something for someone else -for him- did quite good for her. Now she felt more calm, more balanced. At the same time, what she felt became more and more present, more impossible to ignore.
Jubal felt anxious, not sure what to make of her scrutinizing look. She didn't seem angry. Just... thoughtful.
He tried to focus on the mission assigned to them. As always, the possible strategy to follow raised his heart rate. He took a deep breath.
"I'm kind of embarrassed to ask, but I think we'd better plan ahead," said Jubal as neutrally as he could. "If the perp comes online… Um… Are we going to... again?"
His voice trailed off. Although he was trying to be professional, he stumbled on the word. Isobel lowered her eyes, looking down at her plate.
"Kiss? Yes, of course. And with more... enthusiasm, too." She felt herself blush. It was part of the plan, of course, but a part of her was looking forward -in a somewhat questionable way- to the opportunity presenting itself. "With as much as we can put into it. We have to push him to the limit."
She didn't notice how Jubal's breathing quickened. He cleared his throat. "Uh-huh. Okay."
Trying to steer the conversation into something allowing them to relax, Isobel asked Jubal about his new life living with his children.
"Well, living with teenagers is hell," he replied, "but I'm still happy." He made an abashed grimace. "Does this make any sense?"
"Of course it does," Isobel replied softly. "Tyler's turning eighteen and Abby's fifteen this year, right?"
"Right. Good memory," Jubal acknowledged with one of his head nods and the beginning of a smile. "Tyler is leaving for college in the fall, and I only have three more years with Abby." He sighed; his shoulders slumped. "I've missed so much..."
"All the more reason to make the most of it now," Isobel opined, smiling persuasively.
She managed to summon on Jubal's lips a full smile; reaching his eyes and making them sparkle. It took her breath away. He nodded in conviction, feeling as if Isobel lit a light inside him.
"Indeed."
He stared at her captivated, wondering whether he should dare to apply this advice to other circumstances, such as the present one...
·~·~·
After dinner, Jubal insisted on cleaning up, since Isobel took care of dinner. Once he turned on the dishwasher, he returned to the living room to join her.
Standing behind the couch, Isobel was looking out the window, one arm wrapped around her body. A thick fog cast diffuse, mysterious halos around the streetlights. Her expression was nostalgic, like last night while she was sleepwalking.
Gathering some courage, Jubal hesitantly approached. He knew he shouldn't, but he leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.
"Did he connect?" Isobel whispered, controlling her surprise.
Jubal was still very close. It wasn't his initial intention, but he barely moved away afterwards.
"No..." he answered embarrassed.
"So...?" she asked, turning to him in confusion.
Jubal gave her a small smile. "I just wanted to thank you."
"Thank me? Why?"
"About earlier." He gestured vaguely toward the couch, then the table. "About dinner. About just a moment ago." It all made him feel appreciated in a way he didn't in a long time.
Isobel studied his face and swallowed hard. "No. Thanks to you."
"To me? Why?"
Lowering her eyelids, Isobel shrugged one shoulder sheepishly, implying her vulnerability, how he was helping her regain her strength. Jubal knew what she meant. He was moving closer and closer to her, bewitched, though not quite touching her. The air between them was charged with the kind of static, which could not be measured.
"You don't have to thank me for this," Jubal muttered.
Instead of backing away, Isobel raised her face to his, looking into his eyes.
"I know."
They knew they shouldn't, but they bridged the small gap between them and kissed, with more tenderness than either of them would want to admit.
In the van, there were more than just raised eyebrows.
Jubal placed delicately his hand on her cheek; Isobel slid her hands up his sides to his back. The contact lingered. Neither intended it, but it became a sweet exchange, the need in their hearts to say things to each other without words too strong to resist. Nevertheless, overwhelmed by the enormous emotional weight, they kept it contained, more tender than sensual.
At least, until the ringing of their phones announced the killer finally came online.
It was like a starting shot. With only an instant of hesitation, Isobel threw her arms around his neck, Jubal eagerly held her against him. They only needed this little push. With nothing to slow them down anymore, the two drank in each other's kisses avidly, as if they were thirsty for a long time. It wasn't far from the truth at all.
~·~·~·~