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Chapter 2: A Spectator

Jennifer raced about the loft, trying desperately to remember where she might have left the earrings she had planned to wear to the benefit tonight. There were only a few short hours remaining, and she still had so much left to do before the evening would begin. Hair and nails was something she would have to handle herself, as there was simply no time to make other arrangements. Oh why had she baited Jack into agreeing to make tonight's event more than just a story to cover? Clucking her tongue in self-directed irritation, she stopped in mid-track, and reaching into the purse she had taken that day, she discovered the small jewelry box containing the very earrings she'd been searching for.

"Well, that's one thing covered," she muttered impatiently, her gaze sweeping the room as she tried to decide what to handle next. Before her frazzled mind could formulate a plan, the phone rang, startling her from her disjointed thoughts. Reaching for the receiver, she picked up and, in her usual sunny tone, chirped, "hello."

"Hey, Squirt," came from the other end of the line, and Jennifer smiled, in spite of herself, at the familiar greeting from her big brother, Mike. "Whatcha doing?"

"Mike," she answered, a note of chagrin in her voice. "I have a million things to do to get ready for the benefit tonight!"

"Funny, that's why I called," came Mike's reply. As a doctor at Salem's finest hospital, Dr. Mike Horton would certainly be attending the festivities of the evening. "You're going tonight, I'm going tonight. Whaddya say I pick you up and we do this thing together?" His voice tinged with brotherly affection, Mike awaited her response.

Jennifer fingered the pearl earrings, still in the box, and prepared to answer her brother in an apologetic and embarrassed fashion. "Oh, Mike," she said softly. "I would love to go with you ---"

"Great," he interjected, cutting off the rest of her sentence. "How 'bout I come by around eight, then?"

Her next words carefully chosen, Jennifer went on with her all-but-forgotten sentence. "I'd love to go with you, but I made other plans."

Mike's words were good natured and understanding. "No problem," he rejoined. "You got a date?" Leave it to her exasperating brother to pump her for information she was not eager to share, Jennifer thought with affectionate irritation. When her answer was not forthcoming, and a lengthy pause ensued, Mike's voice reached over the phone and prodded. "Jenn?"

"Uh, Mike," Jennifer was stalling and she knew it. "I have to cover the benefit for the paper. I'll be there on duty." Praying he would not pursue the matter further, she plowed ahead. "But I should be able to spend some time with you there," she promised quickly.

Normally Mike would take fiendish delight in tormenting her, but for once, he decided to let the matter drop. They exchanged a few more words, and then Jennifer excused herself and hung up the phone, looking about the loft again in an unsuccessful attempt to redirect her efforts toward the preparation process.

She had just put the finishing touches on a thought to allow herself the unaccustomed luxury of soaking in the tub for a few, brief moments, when a knock came at the door, and furrowing her brow in confusion and consternation, she crossed the room to answer it. Sliding back the rolling door of the loft, she stopped short as she saw Jack, casually leaning alongside the outer doorframe.

"Jack," she questioned, her confusion apparent.

He grinned sardonically, and without allowing her to question further, he responded, "yes, it is my name. We've established that much in prior conversation," and he ducked past her and into the apartment. Looking about the room in unconcealed amusement, he took in the clutter and chaos, saying, "ooh, I like what you've done with the place."

"Jack." Jennifer repeated his name, this time with a hint of frustration, "What are you doing here? It's not eight o'clock yet. And even though you sublet this place and let me stay here, it's not like you're my landlord." She was mortified that he'd stopped by and found her like this, seemingly at her worst. If there was anything about their relationship, or lack thereof, that Jennifer worked hard to maintain, it was the illusion that she was capable of taking care of herself, doing her job well, and handling the responsibilities of her single life. Now was not the time for Jack to observe her in anything less than full control of a situation. How could she ever hope to have him take her seriously, if he kept popping by at such inopportune times?

Jack seized on her last word and twisted it into his own. "Landlord? Heavens, no," he replied in disdain. "Boss, yes." He continued his lazy prowling of the room, moving from corner to corner like a caged and curious panther.

"What do you want, Boss?" Jennifer asked, trying to hide her mounting aggravation, certainly not in the mood for this current round of cat-and-mouse game. Her flashing green eyes landed on the smirk at the corner of his mouth, and she had to control a sudden urge to wipe that superior smile right off his arrogant face. "What do you want?" she repeated when he didn't answer immediately. "I have to get ready for this evening."

"Well, don't let me stop you there," Jack countered smoothly, his eyes resting on the laundry basket of underthings Jennifer had left beside the winding staircase that led to her bedroom upstairs. Resisting the impulse to pick up a pair of her panties and make a disparaging remark, Jack settled for fixing his attention on her beautiful, stormy face as he continued. "You just do --- whatever it is you need to do, and I'll wait." He pushed aside several magazines that were lying on the sofa, and finding a niche, rested himself comfortably there, aware that Jennifer was struggling to deal with her exasperation.

"I was going to take a bath," Jennifer said smugly, hoping to fluster Jack or at least ruffle him a bit, but as she looked across at his face, she realized with weary frustration that he was not going to voluntarily step into her trap.

"Oh, a bath." Jack was beginning to enjoy himself immensely. He settled back further onto the sofa, both hands tucked behind his head, elbows out at right angles. "I suppose you have bottles and bottles of bath beads or bubbles, or whatever it is you ladies seem to enjoy." A flicker of humor sparked in his eyes as he waited for her to join in the verbal frolics, unsure if she would rise to the challenge or turn away from it this time.

Jennifer breathed a sigh of near-defeat and tried a different approach. "No, Jack. You tell me what it is you need, and let's get this taken care of right now. And then I can get back to what it is I need."

Jack wanted to ask what it was she needed, but he'd sooner cut out his own tongue than ask such a question, one that could be construed in a serious way and open up all sorts of avenues he was loathe to explore. So, he continued with his initial assault and resumed the war of words with his worthy opponent. "My, aren't we the model of Emily Post. Your manners are… well, they are nothing short of impeccable. Or perhaps, impeachable." Jennifer just stared at him a moment, a brief spurt of reluctant admiration surging through her. As annoying as Jack could so often be, his intellect combined with his mastery of the English language, along with his quick-fire wit, always seemed to stir in her a sense of begrudging appreciation.

Allowing a small smile to escape, Jennifer watched as Jack leaned forward from the sofa, his fingers tracing a path on the coffee table before him, as he tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a grin of self-delight at his ability to rise to the top of the conversation, yet again. Letting out a nearly inaudible sigh, Jennifer wiped away any last traces of irritation and asked for a third time why he had come by.

"Miss Horton," he addressed her with his typical irreverent formality. "I wanted to make sure that you were prepared in advance for your assignment tonight." His thoughtful blue-gray eyes rested on her face, as another wave of confusion flitted across her features.

"My assignment?" she questioned, almost forgetting her purpose in attending the hospital benefit at all. "Oh, yes," she hurriedly amended. "My assignment, of course." To cover the awkwardness, she swept past his sprawling legs and made her way to the desk across the room, where her fingers rummaged through papers and files. Triumphantly, she held up several sheets and exclaimed, "I've already hashed out the basic outline. Did you want to see it now?"

Jack returned her gaze with a look that barely contained his pride in her and the work she produced. "No, no," he insisted. "If you're off to a start, we'll leave it at that." He stood and stretched his long legs, the slightly crumpled suit he was wearing making him appear both suave and boyish at the same time. A tie, slightly askew, simply added to the effect, as Jennifer felt her eyes light on him, impressed, as always, at the way he so effortlessly could carry himself. If only he could carry his thoughts and feelings with such little effort, she thought wistfully, but for Jack Deveraux, thoughts and feelings were life's encumbrance, a burden to be dealt with by pushing them aside and getting instead to the facts of a good story. Just so long, Jennifer thought, as the story was not his story. She had spent so many months at Jack's side, working with him at the paper, only to witness his repeated attempts to shut others out of his life and forge ahead on his own. There were times that Jennifer ached to be included, to be considered, to lead Jack to the sure and certain knowledge that he was admired and respected, a person of honor and value. And every time she'd get close to the subject, Jack would head it off and steer things back to the track he had set for the course. It was all Jennifer could do to stand back and watch him allow his life to steer the course, sometimes careening out of control, only to regain momentum the next minute and tear down the track again. Yes, if Jack Deveraux's life was a metaphorical racecar event, then Jennifer knew with regret, her place. She was nothing more than a member of the crowd, watching in horrified fascination, as he rounded the track again and again, faster and faster, with dizzying speed. Jennifer was part of the crowd of Salemites who could do no more than watch Jack as he drove himself from one catastrophe to another, veering in and out of the lanes of his life. She was a spectator, a more than casual observer, waiting with the crowd for him to slow down long enough to catch sight of her in the sea of faces. Yes, she realized, as she pulled herself out of the tangle of thoughts that had assailed her in those few frozen moments, she was a spectator in Jack's life. The very last thing she wanted or hoped to be. But if Jack had known her thoughts, had been able to address them and answer in honesty, he would have told her what she didn't understand or realize. She wasn't just a face in the crowd. She was THE face, the one he sought as he rounded each turn. The one member of his all-but-nonexistent pit crew, flagging him in each time he was too close to see that he needed to stop. She was the one who could inspire him to take another lap and go the distance. She was so much more than that…

...to be continued...

Next time: A rap on the door brings Jennifer an unexpected visitor, and Jack is struggling with how to handle the evening.

Chapter 4: A Benefit

Jennifer's skirt made an elegant swish as she waltzed past Jack and into the room filled with her many friends and family. Heading straight for her grandparents, Jennifer barely took notice of her escort as she moved toward them with a smile and a hug.

"Tom, darling," crooned Alice, as her husband embraced Jennifer. "Just look at our granddaughter and how beautiful she looks!" Alice's eyes sparkled merrily as she admired the vision before them.

Jennifer gave a little twirl as her grandfather held her hand. It was apparent to anyone observing them that the Hortons loved Jennifer dearly. Her grandparents had raised her since she was a young girl, while her own mother was unable to care for her, and Jennifer always held them in a special place of love and honor in her life, especially now that she was mature enough to fully appreciate the sacrifices they had made for her. Jennifer felt that she owed her very life to them both, and she stood before them now with tenderness and deep affection. Turning to include Jack in the moment, Jennifer was startled to realize that he hadn't crossed the room with her. Instead, Jack had made his way to the bar, and was helping himself to the first drink of the evening.

In fact, Jack had deliberately chosen to remove himself from Jennifer's side, if for no other reason that to reinforce in her mind that he was her designated driver and not her date at all. He stood beside the bar, feeling awkward, and yet he managed not to convey it as a steady stream of hospital employees, patrons, and board members filed past him. Jack's past political aspirations had given him the wherewithal to be able to handle any social situation with seeming ease.

Several minutes later, with that first drink firmly under his belt, Jack allowed himself to turn his attention back to Jennifer. She was conversing merrily with her Uncle Mickey and Aunt Maggie, and through the din of the room he could almost hear her sweet, girlish laughter.

"Penny for your thoughts, but it's probably an overcharge." Jack heard a voice at his side and turned to look at the individual addressing him. He smiled drolly at Calliope, who was in her usual outrageous attire, a ridiculous hat perched atop her head. Barely concealing her sarcasm, Calliope continued. "What brings you to this soiree?" When Jack refused to answer, Calliope followed the line of his vision and clucked her tongue, nodding her head in understanding. "You're here to keep tabs on your favorite reporter," Calliope stated sagely.

"For your information," Jack responded, setting the record straight, "Miss Horton is here to cover the benefit for tomorrow's paper, and I am here as a hospital board member." Satisfied that this answer would appease the usually nosy Calliope, he resumed his attention to the bar and asked for a second drink.

"Sure, sure," Calliope chirped. She extended a perfectly manicured nail and poked him firmly in the chest. "You keep telling yourself that, over and over, and maybe I'll believe it." Calliope smiled in wicked delight, but Jack knew that she was relatively harmless. Calliope enjoyed toying with people almost as much as he did, and he had to admire that in a twisted way.

Jack managed to move away from Calliope, the refreshed drink clutched in his hand, and he made his way across the room to strike up a conversation with one of his fellow board members. Becoming engrossed in their small talk, he was not aware that Jennifer's attention had shifted, and she was now watching him with a preoccupied smile.

"Jenn?" questioned Mickey, as his niece failed to respond to the query he had put out before her. "Jennifer? Isn't that your boss?" When she still didn't answer, Mickey rephrased. "Jack?"

"Hmmmmm?" Jennifer turned back toward Mickey, sheepishly admitting by her expression that her mind had wandered. "Oh," she snapped back to the moment. "Yes, it's Jack." Jennifer reached out impulsively and brushed something off Mickey's lapel. "Uncle Mickey," she gushed in a rapid change of topic, "you look quite handsome tonight." She smiled brightly.

"Judging by your expression," countered Maggie, "it was Jack you were admiring, not Mickey." Maggie tossed aside her beautiful red hair and offered Jennifer a gentle and understanding smile.

"Oh, no." Jennifer was quick to defend herself, as she observed Mickey's face take on an air of disapproval at the idea that she had personal feelings for Jack. "No. I'm just here to cover tonight for The Spectator." Jennifer stole once more glance at Jack, who still had no clue that she had been watching him all this time.

"Well," said Maggie, her eyes twinkling. "Don't you need to go over and talk to him --- about business?" Maggie was a born optimist, and despite the fact that the entire Horton family had serious reservations about the suitability of one Jack Deveraux as Jennifer's employer, Maggie was among the first in the family to entertain the notion that perhaps Jack had been judged too harshly. It was rather surprising, since Jack had broken the heart of Melissa, Maggie's daughter, some time before. But Maggie, who had struggled with alcoholism throughout her adult years, knew what loneliness and despair were, and she recognized something in Jack that most of the others did not see. "Go," she shooed Jennifer with one hand. "Go talk to him."

Jennifer didn't stop to consider her next words. "No, really. Jack and I talked on the way over." Barely were the words out when she realized what she had said. Mickey's brows knit together, and as he opened his mouth to voice a strong opinion, Jennifer rushed on. "Don't look at me like that, Uncle Mickey," she disparaged gently. "Jack just offered me a ride, that's all. That's all there is to it. Jack is my boss, and that's all." She sounded so sincere that she almost believed the words herself. Mickey, mouth still open, thought better and decided to keep silent.

Before another word could be spoken, Jennifer suddenly found herself being taken by the elbow and turned around to face the lopsided grin of her brother. "Mike, hi," she breathed out in a whoosh. Her eyes silently implored him to offer a change of direction in the conversation, and Mike, sensing her need, rose to her assistance.

"You sure do polish up nicely," he teased, resisting the temptation to tossle her hair or punch her affectionately in the arm. Begging a proper pardon, Jennifer left the side of her aunt and uncle to follow Mike's escort across the room, where they began a lively exchange with several of the hospital's employees. Jennifer had volunteered enough hours as a candy-striper to get to know most of the hospital staff; as Tom and Alice's granddaughter, Jennifer was known to most all of them, as well.

And so the majority of the evening went, progressing almost as smoothly as a finely choreographed ballet. Jack watching Jennifer, Jennifer observing Jack. Always from the sidelines, always unnoticed by the other. Until, finally, they found themselves face to face for the first time in hours.

"Jack," Jennifer greeted with surprise. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you all evening." Her expression, though, did not reveal concern as much as curiosity. Guileless eyes lit on his own, somewhat inebriated ones, as she questioned his whereabouts, knowing without asking exactly where he had been all evening, but unwilling to admit it.

"I have been right in this very room," Jack answered, sounding like a man poised on a brink between sobriety and intoxication, stating the obvious as if it were new and important information. "You know. Hobnobbing with the hospital elite." Jack nodded his head to indicate the masses of people about the room. "I might ask you the same question," he countered, his gaze finally coming to rest on her for a prolonged moment.

"Oh, you know." Jennifer countered, her response mirroring his own. "Just chatting with my family and making the rounds." She studied him intently, as if she were unsure of what she was seeing. "Jack," she finally questioned, "are you okay?"

"Why?" Jack's paranoia rose to the surface. He turned his head, straining to see his back, trying desperately to determine if something was amiss. "Did someone put another 'kick me' sign on my back again? I really hate it when that happens." He turned his head forward again, blinking to clear his clouded vision.

Jennifer was both amused and exasperated at the same time. She watched Jack struggle to maintain his composure, and she ventured, "Jack. You have had too much to drink."

"No, no, no, no," Jack's singsong comeback was automatic, if not original. "That ship hasn't sailed quite yet." He reached out as a waiter with a tray of champagne flutes passed, but before he could help himself to another glass, Jennifer's hand shot out and swooped it away, replacing it on the tray of the baffled young man as he continued across the room.

"You have had enough," Jennifer pronounced, feeling like a parent scolding a disobedient child. "C'mon, Jack." She took him by the arm and led him out the nearest doorway, into a lobby where few guests were milling about. Continuing toward the lobby doors, with Jack still in tow, she reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a stub of paper, handed it to a valet, and turned her attention back to her boss, who was unusually silent. His attention seemed to be riveted to a spot on the carpet, as Jennifer announced, "we are going home, Jack."

"Home?" he crowed. "Home, Auntie Em. There's no place like home." Jack wanted to protest, but in the fog of his mind he was not equipped to make a decision about anything at that moment.

"Yes, home." Jennifer's reply was firm. "And I am going to make you some coffee, and you will drink it while I start on the story."

Jack blinked owlishly. "Coffee. Coffee is good. Coffee can start on the story." Jack struggled to hold onto his frame of thought. "Coffee. His style is a bit different, but he puts out a good feature article now and then."

"Jack, what on earth are you talking about?" Jennifer addressed him with a shake of her head. "Oh," enlightenment came then. "Kaffey? At The Spectator." She smiled knowingly and decided to pacify him. "Sure, Jack," she said, magnanimously. "Kaffey can work on the story. He'll do a great job." As the car came into sight, Jennifer informed Jack that she would be driving home, hoping he would accept that fact without argument.

Jack just muttered, "You always want to be in the driver's seat." She helped him into the front seat, her skirts swishing as she floated around to the other side and got in behind the wheel. Shifting Jack's car into gear, she stole a sideways glance at her drunken passenger, and they were off.

Halfway back to the loft, Jennifer realized that Jack was snoring softly. "Oh, Jack," she sighed aloud. "You really don't have any idea about the story, do you?" She glanced over at him, her smile filled with warmth and tenderness and mingled with regret. "You just don't know at all." And she was not referring to the benefit.

...to be continued...

Next time: Back at the loft, Jennifer tries to write the story, but an encounter with Jack takes her mind off her work

Chapter 6: An Accident

Jack awoke with a start to moonlight streaming into the loft. At first he was startled, wondering where he was, as he looked desperately about the room, trying to remember how he had gotten there and why. Then, as his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, he realized with sudden clarity that he was on Jennifer's sofa. Confused feelings and pieces of a memory floated into his mind as he sat up, pushing back the comforter and willing his aching head to give him the answers he sought. He tried to stand, although his legs felt as if the bones had begun to liquefy.

He wanted nothing more than to sink back down to the sofa and allow his restless body some relief, but something was nagging at Jack to focus and concentrate, and he had the uneasy feeling that there was something he was trying to remember that might be better left forgotten. Cutting through the dark with his glance again, his gaze hovered on Jennifer's desk, its silhouette now burning an imprint onto his mind. He did recall her working at her desk that evening, as he had watched from across the room. He looked down to the table for what he thought was the cup of coffee he had abandoned there, and squinting in the near darkness, his eyes came to rest beside the coffee cup onto something he couldn't quite recognize. Almost by a will of its own, his hand reached forward and grasped the pencil that was there, as its slim coolness opened a floodgate that allowed more memories to come pouring forth. They tumbled randomly, as Jack fought with growing alarm to lay them out in order.

There had been a pencil, behind her ear. The typewriter. The article from over her shoulder. A return to the sofa. What else was there that he was not remembering? Vaguely he remembered breathing her name, and the next vision that came searing into his mind caused him to gasp aloud. A tumble on the sofa and a kiss. Two of them? It all came crashing back, too much for his weary brain to absorb. They had kissed. Jack rubbed his chin in anxiety, and then his fingers came up to his lips. They didn't feel any different, but he knew that Jennifer had burned herself into his memory with those kisses. Jack was panicked, and one further thought careened, screaming, into his mind. He almost thought he remembered Jennifer saying that she loved him! He strained to put a picture to that memory, but it was no use. Had she spoken those words or was his demented brain working some plot against him?

At that moment, Jack knew a panic he had never felt before. Totally at a loss to know how to handle the events of the preceding evening, Jack had only one thought: to get out of there as quickly as possible. He moved toward the kitchen area, bumping into the table as he did, and stifling a yowl of pain, he hobbled toward the counter, his hands, like that of a blind man, feeling about in desperation for the car keys he prayed would be there. No such luck. Stumbling through the darkness back to the sofa, he reached out for his jacket, and fumbling in the pockets he was relieved to find what he so urgently had been seeking. Holding onto the keys for dear life, he made his way to the door, pausing only long enough to insure that he made the least possible noise as he swung open the rolling door and made his way to freedom.

Jennifer had awakened with a start, equally unsure what she was forgetting as she looked about her room, straining her ears to hear a sound. Without the effects of alcohol to dull her senses, Jennifer's memories came to her much more quickly than Jack's had, and she thought she heard the door to the loft opening and shutting. Jumping out of bed and pulling her robe about her, she hastened down the spiral steps, where she expected she would find that Jack was asleep and her mind was playing tricks on her. As she rounded the last step, she peered across the darkened room and discovered that Jack was nowhere to be found. Nearly sprinting to the window, she gazed in horror to the street below, where she could just make out Jack getting into his car and starting it. Fear gripped Jennifer as she imagined the worst; Jack was in no condition to drive home now. Without thinking, she raced for the door, flung it open, and bypassed the elevator, heading straight for the stairs as she flew through the building and out the door, just as Jack was putting the car in gear.

"No, Jack!" Jennifer rocketed toward the car, as Jack began to pull away from the curb, unaware he was being sought. In desperation, Jennifer grabbed for the passenger door, as Jack's head whirled in disbelief toward her, his mouth agape. Reaction time dulled by the effects of the drinks, it was a moment before Jack was able to slam on the brakes and stop the car, which by now had begun to move forward. That forward momentum was all it took to knock Jennifer off her feet, and as she fell, her head hit the ground with a dull thud.

Jack sat in horrified silence for a split second, unable to move in sick trepidation. Then adrenaline began to pump through him as he shifted the car to park and flew out of the driver's seat, racing around the car, to find Jennifer, silent and still on the side of the curb.

"Oh, God," he expelled a breath, as he knelt beside her. He was afraid to touch her, and more afraid, still, not to. Jack's heart thumped in terror, as he examined her, from her closed eyes down to her small, bare feet. That beautiful mane of blond hair fanned about her in the grass, Jennifer was as still as death, the moonlight shrouding her face and casting an eerie pall on her.

Bending over her, his throat tight with a fear he had never known could exist, Jack put his cheek down to her face and felt for her breathing. She was alive. Jack's own breath came out in a rush as he came to life, running his hands over her to feel for bumps or broken bones. She seemed to be in one piece, and Jack found himself praying that she was all right. He was no doctor, but he didn't think she had a back or neck injury, and Jack's first thought was to get her upstairs before she took chill in the night air. Gingerly scooping her up into his arms, he carried her still body up to the loft, punishing himself with each step for what he had done to her. He couldn't begin to imagine why she had run out like that, but it didn't matter. He had hurt her, just the way he knew he always would, someday. Tears burned the backs of his eyes, but Jack was too upset to give them his attention. He rounded the final corner and discovered that the door had been left open. She had literally run after him, but why? Why? He gently deposited her on the sofa, lifting the comforter and placing it about her, and then he went across the room to close the door and put on a light so he could examine her more closely.

What to do, he wondered, with a fear that threatened to choke him. He felt unable to breathe himself as he checked again. Yes, she was breathing, although it was thin and unsteady. Jack knew, instinctively, that she needed a doctor, but he didn't want to move her and he was afraid to leave her side. Running trembling fingers over her again, he didn't detect anything that was outwardly wrong, but as his fingers made their way up to her head, he discovered a nasty bump that was swelling. "Jennifer," he gulped miserably, wishing she would just open her eyes and talk to him. Yes, he had to get her up and talking. Leaving her side only long enough to rush to the freezer for some ice, he grabbed the towel on the counter and wrapping the ice cubes into it, came back and tenderly applied the cold compress to the swelling on top of her head.

"Jennifer," he spoke to her, anxious to awaken her and get her talking. "Wake up." He smoothed the hair off her forehead, relieved to see that her lovely face was not bruised or harmed in any way. "Jennifer," he said again, urgently. "C'mon, wake up. Wake up!" There was still no response, and at that moment Jack hated himself with a virulence that was frightening. Though it was the middle of the night, Jack was now fully awake and in perfect coordination of his senses. He just had no grasp on his wayward emotions. "Jennifer!" He spoke more loudly. "You have to wake up!" Jack was beyond panicked, his fear seizing him again with the viciousness of a pit bull. He grabbed for her hand, small and cold as it was. Rubbing that hand in his distraction, he began to throw out a jumble of words, hoping one or two of them would get through to her subconscious.

"Jennifer, it's Jack," he babbled. "Wake up and talk to me. You fell. But you're going to be all right. You have to be all right. Do you hear me? It was an accident. I didn't mean it. You have to know that. I'd never hurt you. Not in a million years. You're the last person I would ever hurt. You mean more to me than…" Jack broke off, unable to voice the words, even now. His breath was coming, hard and fast, more in his fear than from any strain. "Jennifer! You took a tumble, remember?"

Somewhere in the recesses of Jennifer's mind, that voice penetrated and got through to her, and she struggled to come back from where she was. Jack's last words made contact with her jumble of thoughts and memories, and she stirred on the sofa, her eyelids fluttering and her mouth working at forming words. Jack watched her fight for consciousness, and he clasped her hand all the more firmly, encouraging her. "That's right. That's it. Grab onto my voice and pull yourself back."

She was still grappling with his former words, and the one that made an impact was the word, tumble. She recalled his voice, telling her that she had taken a tumble. In a rush of thoughts, feelings and emotions, she was seized with a memory of falling into Jack's embrace. Letting out a soft moan, Jennifer was finally able to give voice to that one word. "Tumble," she said, breathlessly. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up into Jack's worried countenance. His fear for her was so great that she could feel it pulse through her body, becoming one with the now steadying beat of her heart. "I remember a tumble," she managed to say, and despite the pain that was beginning to throb through her head, she forced a wan smile. "It was right here on the sofa," she said.

In his delirious fright, Jack didn't understand her for a moment. Then realization dawned. She was trying to tease him, Jack thought, and as much as it made him want to throw his arms around her, the discovery also caused him renewed pain of his own. No matter what he did to hurt her, she was always so understanding, so loving and forgiving. He didn't think there could be anyone with so much goodness in them.

Jennifer watched the emotions play across his face, and she struggled to show him that she was okay. Trying to sit up, she said, "I'm fine, Jack, really." But her eyes didn't look quite right, and Jack was still worried.

"I have to get you to the hospital," he said with certainty, but as he turned to put words into action, Jennifer reached out a hand and put it on his arm.

"No, Jack. You can't do that," she said, with equal certainty. "You can't drive anywhere. Not in your condition." Haltingly she explained her actions to him, leaving him with no room for doubt as to why she had run out in the night to stop him. She was worried that he would get into an accident, he thought wryly, as she tried to convince him why he couldn't leave there.

"Then I'll call for an ambulance," he said stubbornly. "You need to be looked at." Again, he reached around for the phone, and again she stopped him.

"No. Jack. No." Jennifer may have been suffering from a concussion, but she was making complete sense and Jack knew it. "Jack, think about it. If you call for help, they'll want to know what happened. If anyone finds out that you were driving…" her voice trailed off, as she stopped, not wanted to put into words what would only make Jack feel worse, as if that were possible. Jack felt her small, trusting hand reach out for his own, and as if it were a lifeline, he grasped her hand to keep from falling. "Jack, I'll be fine. I promise," she even managed another small smile. "Just stay with me, please." Her eyes, so green in the pale light of the room, sought his for assurance.

Jack just stared at her. In the darkened room, with only the soft light of one bulb, her little face was white and scared. His heart constricting, Jack knew what he should do, and then he knew what he was going to do. He was going to stay with her, until the soft rays of morning sun would light on her face, and they could face the next day together.

...to be continued...

Next time: It's Jack's longest night---will Jennifer be all right?

Chapter 8: The Aftermath

Jack didn't know what was worse: the steady throbbing of his temples, an overt reminder of the hangover he was sporting, or the intense weariness from his all-night vigil at Jennifer's side. Not that it even mattered, he reminded himself. Either way, it was his penance to pay for the foolish actions of the night before. Jack felt his only hope was to come to the office as early as possible and immerse himself in work to blot out the transgressions of his mindless idiocy.

"Vern!" he shouted, wincing at the volume of his own voice as he bellowed for his cohort. A moment later, the door swung open and Vern entered, not at all surprised or flustered by the summons from his editor-in-chief. Waiting expectantly, he sized Jack up with one look, a smirk of enlightenment making its way to his world-wizened features.

"Get that look off your face," Jack commanded, in no mood to take on one of Vern's lectures. "I called you in here for a reason."

"There's always a reason," Vern responded evenly, refusing to change his expression one bit. "What is it, Jack?"

"The hospital benefit article," came the answer. "You'll need to piece it together," Jack informed Vern, as he rushed on without an explanation. "I have an outline." He thrust a paper at his amused colleague, and when Vern refused to take the outthrust sheet of paper, Jack amended his request in exasperation. "Or get someone else to do it." He waved the white sheet a few times until Vern finally reached forward and took it, but he still didn't even look at what was in his hand, only at the expression on Jack's face, which by then was something between a grimace and a scowl.

Vern hesitated just long enough to further irritate the boss. Then he smiled in devious pleasure and questioned, "So what's wrong with the one that Jenny girl is working on?"

Jack wished to avoid this subject in any way he could. Realizing that he had to give some sort of explanation for Jennifer's absence, he forged ahead with a reply he hoped would pacify his unusually curious co-worker. "Miss Horton won't be in today."

Again Vern waited for a fraction of a moment before sharing his response. "I guess she didn't get the memo," he said simply, watching with interest for Jack's reaction to that tidbit of information.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jack asked right away, too tired and confused to be able to interpret what Vern was trying to say.

"See for yourself," was the abrupt reply. Vern motioned to the door, and Jack swept past him, looking out into the office, unprepared for what he saw there before him. Jennifer, looking amazingly chipper and cheery, was sitting at her desk, her fingers fairly flying over the keys of her computer, as the hospital benefit story came to life.

"Wha … what are you doing here?" Jack stammered as he strode over to her, hands clenched at his side in impotent rage.

Jennifer looked up and smiled sweetly. She resisted the urge to wink at Vern who had followed behind Jack and was now flashing sparkling eyes at her. The effects of the night before seemed all but erased as she sat before him, a vision of loveliness. Jack blinked and looked again, and he realized that her flowing hair was held back from her face by a wide headband that must have covered the lump she had sustained the previous night. He couldn't believe she was here, and Jack's admiration, even in anger, for the young lady in his midst was considerable. "I'm finishing the story," Jennifer responded, as if it were the most logical answer in the world. "I'm sorry I didn't get it done last night," she continued in mock gravity. "It was quite an event-ful night." Jack recognized her pun, but he would not acknowledge it. He gulped, looking from Jennifer's eyes to Vern's, and he ground out the next words.

"Very well. Just see to it that it's on my desk in thirty minutes." Jack stalked back across the room, into the office, and slammed the door shut before he could remember the effect it would have on his spinning senses. Crossing his office, and then pacing back to the door before he resumed his way to the desk again, Jack was assaulted with every feeling and emotion he had bottled but not fully capped. He wanted to storm back through the door and order Jennifer to go home. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and tell her that she was the bravest, the most beautiful girl in the world. He wanted to shake her right out of his life and move on as if she had never touched that secret place in his heart. Jack sank into his desk chair and reminded himself of the original and best plan. He was going to remove her from his personal life, even if they would need to work together on a daily basis.

Twenty-three minutes later, the door to the office opened, and Jennifer swept in, article in hand, and dropped it triumphantly onto Jack's desk while saying, "and I have seven minutes to spare." Her smile was a sweetly victorious, and Jack wished with all his heart that he could respond to that unspoken challenge.

Determination lent a degree of hardness to his voice as Jack responded without looking up. "Seven minutes. Well, make sure you use to the first one to get out of here and make yourself useful."

If he had punched her in the stomach, Jennifer would not have reacted as strongly as she did to the tone and meaning of those words. The smile died on her face as she stared at Jack, her puzzlement evident in hurt green eyes. "Jack. What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," Jack answered, his voice suddenly and frighteningly cool and emotionless. "I expect my employees to follow my orders. Now get out." His eyes could not even meet hers as he pretended to be engrossed in a paper on his desk.

"Jack, look at me," Jennifer demanded, and when he would not, she snatched the paper from beneath his gaze and turned it from side to side. It was blank, just like the expression in Jack's eyes, and Jennifer felt an unexpected fear. A chill came over her at that empty look in his eyes.

"Miss Horton," he continued in that same unemotional tone. "You have two choices. Get back to work, or pack up your things and get out of here." Jack knew in his heart that he was doing what he had to in order to break Jennifer free from her growing feelings for him, but it did not make things any easier. He detached himself from her like a balloon breaking away from its tether.

"Jack," Jennifer protested in confusion, trying not to become overly emotional. "Why are you doing this?" He thought he heard a quaver in her voice, and Jack's heart gave a little leap of pain. At the same time, he was certain that a small amount of pain now would save her from a much larger and more potent dose later on. When he refused to answer or explain, she tried to find the answer on her own. "Are you mad at me because I didn't stay home today?"

"I'm not the least bit mad," Jack countered calmly. "I just don't appreciate my employees disregarding my instructions." He picked up another sheet of paper, and swiveling to one side in his chair, he attempted to shift his focus to the words before him.

"Jack." There was no mistaking the hurt in Jennifer's voice. "Employee. Employee?" She swallowed her pride and went on with her query. "Is that all I am to you?" She spoke in a small voice, tears coming nearer to the surface.

"What do you expect?" Jack's reply was short and to the point.

Jennifer didn't know what to say or do. Jack had been busy building walls this morning, and she didn't know if she had the strength to tear them down today. The previous evening had taken more of a toll on her than she cared to admit. Still she struggled valiantly to get past the wall of ice he had erected. "C'mon, Jack," she cajoled in desperation. "You can't really act like this after what went on last night."

"Last night?" Jack's words were like daggers finding their mark on her heart. "Nothing 'went on' last night. We covered a story and took care of an unfortunate accident." As if she needed further clarification, he tossed out, "that's all."

"Jack, that's not all, and you know it," Jennifer was trying to replace her near tearful pleas with words of conviction.

"Miss Horton," Jack seemed to have crawled right back into his iceman persona. "I believe I told you to get out of here." Jack was so far gone by now that he couldn't even feel the pain anymore, and his words continued, assaulting her like pellets of icy rain. "Get out."

Jennifer opened her mouth, and then helplessly closed it again. She couldn't fight him when he was like this. There was a time when Jennifer's response would have been to rail at him and force her feelings on him, but she was strangely subdued, and Jack knew he had pushed her to her limit. He still didn't have the courage to look at her, but it didn't matter, because Jennifer had slowly turned and began to move toward the door, her head low and her feet heavy. Upon reaching the door to the office, she put one shaky hand on the doorknob and then paused a moment to look back sadly.

"Are you sure?" Her question was heart-rending and direct, and Jack refused to acknowledge it had been spoken at all. With a trembling sigh, Jennifer moved like a ghost out of Jack's office, closing the door softly behind her.

Jack, his eyes frozen on the paper in his hand, did not move or even breathe for a moment after she was gone. Then he let his breath out in a slow exhale, rattled beyond even his belief by their exchange. He felt certain that she would look back and thank him someday, and the conviction that he was doing what was best for her was the only consolation he could give his breaking heart. Jennifer needed-no deserved so much more than he could ever begin to give her. Anything personal between them would only bring her down in due course. Jack's greatest fear, as he took a shallow breath, was that any more time spent together would shake his resolve and he would not be able to withstand the feelings that threatened to take him over. Better she understand that now, before he could inflict real pain on her. She would get over it, he tried to convince himself. And the only pain left in the office began to pound its way into his head again, as he swallowed and hoped with all his throbbing heart that he would not become completely and violently ill.

...to be continued...

Next time: Jack has made his choice, and Jennifer gets some advice from Jo.

Chapter 10: The Ploy

Jennifer heard the phone ring before she had gotten the door to the loft open. Laden with packages, she struggled with the lock, finally throwing open the door and dropping the parcels in her haste to answer. Breathlessly she grabbed the receiver and said, "hello?"

"I've been trying to call you all morning," the voice admonished her, and Jennifer remembered belatedly that she had told Emilio she'd talk to him in the morning.

"Oh, hi," Jennifer responded, perhaps a bit too brightly.

"Where've you been," Emilio continued, sounding perturbed. "I tried you here and at the office. No one knew where you were."

"I've been out," Jennifer said carefully. She was beginning to feel the effects of her long night, coupled with the emotion of this morning and the excitement of the plan she meant to put into action. The last thing she wanted or needed was to deal with Emilio pursuing her. She needed to come clean with him, Jennifer realized. Emilio was still harboring hope deep down that Jennifer was his girl, and she knew that she had to be honest before he really got hurt.

"Yeah, well," Emilio went on. "I wanted to talk to you last night, but you were too busy with Deveraux. And it sounds like now ain't a good time, either." Emilio's voice held a strange note.

"I'm sorry," Jennifer said, regretfully. She really hated hurting Emilio in any way; he had been such a good friend. "I'm just really busy," she finished lamely.

"Well, that's kinda why I called," Emilio continued. "I wanted to tell you in person, but I guess this will hafta do." Jennifer was mystified, and his next words sent a jolt through her. "I got an audition. In New York. I'm leaving this afternoon." He waited for her to say something in return.

Jennifer felt her heart soar for Emilio. He had such talents, and she was thrilled that things might be coming together for him. "Oh, gosh, " she said, sincerity evident in her voice. "Emilio that's great! This could be the big break you've been waiting for!" Jennifer might not have romantic feelings for him, but she was genuinely pleased for Emilio. They chatted for a few more minutes, and then Jennifer hung up the phone, relief seeping through her. With Emilio away for a few days, she could get to work on her plan to get Jack. Turning her attention back to the packages she'd abandoned on the sofa, Jennifer picked up the bags and gave a little twirl of happiness. She had everything she would need to draw Jack's attention to her in those bags, and Jennifer could not have been more excited if she were getting ready for the prom. Jack would see her and know that she was not a little girl; she was a woman, with a woman's feelings. Jennifer was about to hasten upstairs when the phone rang again.

This time, she was surprised to hear Jo Johnson on the other end of the line. "Jennifer, I'm so glad I found you," said Jo, but she didn't sound frantic, just pleased.

"Mrs. Johnson," Jennifer answered in response. "What can I do for you?" Jennifer's curiosity was up, and she wondering, fleetingly, why Jack's mother had called.

"I've been thinking of you ever since you left the office this morning," Jo admitted, cringing a bit inwardly as she thought of the lie she was about to set into motion. "I was worried about you." In a rush, she went on. "Do you think we could meet and have lunch together?"

"Uh, sure," Jennifer gave her answer, without much thought. She could set her own plan into motion after a brief luncheon. "What did you have in mind?" she questioned.

"Wings. Shall we say one o'clock?" Jo nearly held her breath in anticipation.

"That would be fine," Jennifer demurred. "I'll meet you at Wings at one." Closing off their conversation, Jennifer hung up the phone and gave the matter some thought. It certainly wouldn't interfere with her plans, she told herself. In fact, perhaps there was some way that Jo could help. With renewed determination, Jennifer fairly flew up to her room to prepare.




At ten to one, Jack strolled into Wings, wondering if his mother had already arrived. He greeted Dave and asked for a table for the two of them, and Dave ushered him over to a beautifully set table across the room. Soft music was playing and Jack sank wearily into a seat, wondering why his mother had invited him for lunch. It wasn't like they were particularly close, but Jack had been trying to reach out in recent months, and the idea that Jo was making a similar gesture caused him to smile, in spite of the way this day had been turning out.

Five minutes turned into ten, and Jack was becoming impatient. He gnawed on a breadstick and was about to summon the waiter to ask after his party, when he felt his stomach lurch at the unexpected sight at the door.

Jennifer had just walked in, and she scanned the room, her eyes registering her shock at seeing Jack there.

In the time it took her to cross the room, Jack willed his heart to beat again. Jennifer looked lovely in a new outfit that set off her curves and had a neckline that scooped down lower than Jack had ever seen her wear. Her hair was pulled back in a sophisticated style, and as she came closer, he was assaulted by the scent of her perfume.

"Jack, hi," she greeted, showing her surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"One comes to Wings, presumably, to have lunch." Jack kicked into automatic pilot and tried to cruise into the conversation.

"Oh, that's funny," Jennifer said conversationally, "because I came for lunch, too." She was wearing a touch of lipstick, and Jack found his eyes to be drawn to her mouth. Looking quickly back up to her eyes, Jack thought he saw laughter there, but when he looked more closely, it was just her pleasure in having run into him he saw.

"Are you waiting for someone?" she asked, her eyes resting on the place settings for two before coming back to his eyes as a look of mild curiosity played across her features.

"As a matter of fact, yes." Jack didn't seem to be able to give her anything but a standard answer. His tongue felt too big, his mouth was dry, and he reached for his water. "What about you?"

"Me?" Jennifer asked. She forced herself to sound nonchalant. "I'm meeting someone, too." She wondered what Jack would think when he found out that she was dining with his mother, but she wasn't too concerned. If anything, she was wildly pleased that she wouldn't have to wait until after lunch to get her plan off the ground. Jack was here now, looking at her in that strange way, like he wanted to devour her or ignore her. She couldn't quite tell.

"I'm sure you and Emilio will have a wonderful lunch," Jack said, his voice hollow and lacking in enthusiasm. He avoided her eyes, and Jennifer's heart gave a leap as she thought she detected a small note of jealousy in his words and tone.

"Do you mind if I sit down while I wait?" asked Jennifer, who decided not to admit right away that it was not Emilio she was here to meet. At Jack's wordless handsweep, Jennifer sat down across from him, saying a silent prayer that this plan of hers would work. She stared at him for a moment, not quite sure what to say next. It was obvious that Jack didn't have an idea, either; he seemed uncomfortable and uncharacteristically at a loss for words. It would be Jennifer's task to get things going.

She was about to ask who his luncheon partner would be, when Dave came over and interrupted with the information that there was a call for Jack. Handing Jack the phone, Dave unobtrusively pulled back to the side, waiting.

"Jack," came the voice on the other end, and he realized with dismay that it was Jo calling. "I'm so sorry. I've been delayed," Jo sounded so sincere, and Jack was too startled by the call to notice the odd note in her voice. "Son, I don't think I'm going to make it there. You go on without me, and we'll try it again another time, okay?" Before Jack could formulate a response, she had hung open. Jack opened his mouth and closed it again, swallowing reflexively.

"Bad news?" Jennifer inquired, studying his every move and expression, her eyes lighting on him without a hint of guile.

"My lunch date had to cancel," was all Jack would say, but he was beginning to feel a warmth spread over him as Jennifer continued to look at him in that provocative way.

"Hmmm," was all Jennifer would say, as she looked down at her watch, which dangled daintily on her tiny wrist, and then she said, more to herself than to him, "It's way past one. Jo said one o'clock." Jennifer didn't even realize what she had said, but Jack picked up on it instantly.

Joe. There it was, thought Jack. Jennifer had a date with some joker named Joe. No doubt someone from the hospital, or maybe someone from one of her classes at the university. Jack couldn't imagine why that one syllable gave him such pain. The thought of Jennifer with another man was a thought too dismal for contemplation. He motioned for Dave to remove the phone from the table, and then he turned his attention back to Jennifer, who seemed to be eyeing the door with curiosity.

"So…" he began. "Your date…is he someone from the hospital or did you meet elsewhere?" Jack feigned interest in the topic, although he was finding it uncomfortable to breathe, and without thinking, he loosened his tie a notch. Jennifer's eyes focused on his.

"My date?" she questioned in bafflement, wondering why Jack had presumed her lunch partner to be male.

"Yes," Jack wished desperately he had never inquired in the first place. "Joe, I believe you said." Jennifer's puzzled look only served to confuse him further, and then light dawned in her eyes and a knowing smile spread across her face. Uncrossing her legs and leaning closer to the table, she relished watching Jack squirm a bit.

"Well, I could ask about your date," she countered, placing undue stress on the word 'date.' Jack had picked up a fork and was now fidgeting in his discomfort. "Why don't you tell me about her, Jack? Is she anyone I know?"

Jack didn't feel like playing the game. He was suddenly and inexorably weary of the entire business, and he let his guard down without thinking. "As a matter of fact you do know her. I was waiting for my mother, but she stood me up!" Jack was frustrated and he lashed out.

"Your mother?" Jennifer's voice came out in a high-pitched squeak, and for a moment Jack thought she was going to choke. She grabbed for the glass of water and took a gulp, as Jack studied her in perplexity. When she had her bearings, Jennifer began to laugh, a sweet, lilting laugh that might have pulled Jack from the pit of his despair if he hadn't felt so betrayed by her reaction.

"Yes, my mother," he snapped, feeling somewhat hurt by her response and wishing that she would not laugh at him. It was embarrassing enough to be stood up for lunch, let alone by your own mother.

Nearly ready to put Jack out of his misery, Jennifer attempted to get control of herself as she giggled, "well, Jack. Don't feel bad. I was stood up, too." This didn't garner the desired result, as Jack looked even more hurt and bewildered.

"By Joe," he said simply, hating the unknown intruder who was suddenly becoming a part of Jennifer's life.

"By Jo," she repeated, a hint of laughter still in her eyes. Part of her wanted to tease and torment Jack into submission, but looking across at his miserable expression, her desire was replaced by the need to make things right between them. "Jo Johnson."

It took a split second for that important piece of information to register in Jack's overworked brain. He turned startled eyes on Jennifer, who sat watching him, her heart in her eyes. And despite everything they had been through that day and the night before, Jack found himself the victim of a sheepish smile of relief. Jennifer returned the smile easily, wanting to hold onto this moment of unspoken communion between them.

"Methinks we've been set up," Jack acknowledged with a genuine smile, that was bigger and happier than Jennifer had seen in some time. Jennifer nodded her agreement, and the two exchanged glances. When Jack spoke again, his words sent Jennifer's heart soaring. "Jo obviously went to a great deal of trouble to arrange all this. It would be a shame to spoil it, don't you agree?" For the first time all day, Jack's eyes held a twinkle of mischief, and Jennifer felt more in love than she had ever been. She nodded again, afraid to speak, lest the spell be broken. And Jack just turned and called across the room, "Dave! A couple of menus, si'l vous plait."

...to be continued...

Next time: New beginnings---Jennifer hopes to make one with Jack, and Jack is hopeful to make one with his family.

Chapter 12: The Confrontation

Jennifer had finished her lunch at Wings, and she left the restaurant wondering what was going on between Jack and Steve. She smiled wryly as she realized that Jack would be irritated at just how well he'd trained her; it was now her second nature to question and wonder and report on events, and Jennifer wanted to know what was happening. So she did the only thing she could think to do; she headed back to Jack's house and waited for him to return. She didn't think he'd go back to the office at this point, and since all roads lead to home, she decided to wait it out.

Sheldon, Jack's butler, had let her into the place many times by now, and Jennifer was eternally grateful that he seemed to trust her without hesitation. But as one hour spilled into the next, she began to have concerns about what was going on. "What have you gotten yourself into, Jack Deveraux," she asked aloud as she meandered about the place. Another hour slipped away, and she contemplated the wisdom of her choice. She should have tailed him, she thought ruefully. The events of the previous day and evening were hanging over her, and as another hour passed, Jennifer began to feel weariness overtake her. She sat down on Jack's sofa and tried to keep her mind on her quest, but fatigue finally won out as she sank back against the cushions and allowed her eyes to close for just a moment.

Suddenly a blast of cool air assaulted her, and Jennifer blinked her eyes open as she looked up to see Jack come sauntering into the room. He stopped short when he saw her there, and she sat up hastily. "Jack," she greeted him, shaking the sleep from her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice full of wonder.

"I was worried," Jennifer said simply, her concern for his welfare evident in her lovely eyes. Her glance swept his face, and she wasn't sure what she saw there. A mask of confused emotions played over Jack's face, and he blinked.

"Jennifer," was all he would say, and he said it over and over again as he took the remaining steps to cross the room and be at her side. She stood slowly to meet him, and the expression in his eyes caused her heart to begin to beat wildly. Staring at her for a moment, Jack suddenly and impulsively swept her into an embrace and pulled her close for a kiss. Jennifer was delirious with joy as Jack's lips met hers, and she returned his kiss with all the pent-up love and longing she had been holding in that day. "Jennifer," he murmured again, between kisses, and she thought she would faint from the sheer bliss of the feel of his arms about her and his mouth on hers. When Jack broke away, Jennifer watched him study her with an expression of dazed love, and when she spoke his name in question again, he smiled gently and said, "It's you. You're the one. You're what I've needed all day today." And reaching out to her tenderly, he drew her close for another kiss.

Jennifer wondered, fleetingly, if someone could die from happiness. If so, she was certainly on her way. She allowed Jack to cover her with kisses, feeling him brand his soul into her with every touch of his lips on her. He covered her face, her eyes, her cheeks, her neck with a sweet barrage of light kisses, and Jennifer began to moan softly, "Jack…Jack…"

Awakened by the slam of a door, Jennifer sat up in confusion, unsure for a moment where she was or what had happened. Jack strode into the room, stopping short when he saw her on his sofa. A conflicting display of emotions ran across his face, and he asked in confusion, "Jennifer, what are you doing here?"

"I was worried," Jennifer responded, echoing her dream and hoping with all her heart that reality would mirror what she had just imagined. She studied his expression as he remained rooted on the spot. In her dream, Jack had come to her, but now he stood, silently, unwilling to come closer, and Jennifer realized that she would have to be the one to move things along, again. "I was worried," she repeated, to get Jack's attention. "What's going on, Jack?"

Although she wished that he would come to her, she understood his confusion, and Jennifer did what she could to put him at ease. Drawing up her knees on the sofa, she wrapped her arms around her legs and looked up at Jack, trustingly, giving him a chance to share the events that had just transpired. After another moment of indecision, Jack crossed the room to pour himself a drink and buy a few extra moments, a shaky attempt to gather his wits about him. When he finally turned toward her, drink in hand, he ignored her question and asked one of his own. "Why did you come here?"

"I told you," Jennifer answered with simplicity and candor. "I was worried and needed to know what happened between you and Steve." She continued to stare at Jack, willing him to share with her what had gone on. "Are you going to tell me?" She was the picture of innocence, and Jack knew how much she put her faith in him. It heartened him, and it frightened him at the same time.

"There's really not much to tell," Jack evaded her, giving a generic answer. "Steve and I had some business to take care of, and it's been dealt with. That's it. End of story." He moved past her and set the drink down, uncertain that he actually wanted it at all. Then he picked it up again, swirling it around and watching the pattern as it settled in the glass.

Jennifer hesitated a moment longer, giving Jack the chance to alter his answer, and when it seemed he would not, she sighed softly and responded. "Okay, Jack. You don't have to tell me the details. Just tell me that everything worked out and it's fine." Her eyes sought his, desperate for him to include her in this and every other aspect of his life.

"Everything worked out and it's fine." Jack borrowed her words and refused to add anything more to embellish his tale. Jennifer nodded after another moment, and he strove to change the subject before them. He asked again, as if her initial responses were unacceptable, "why did you come here?"

Jennifer tried not to be exasperated, but her voice shook a bit with the effort. "Jack, I told you already. I needed to come."

"Why?" he persisted, although he knew part of him didn't want to hear the answer she'd undoubtedly offer.

Disengaging her hands from about her legs, Jennifer stretched on the sofa and then rose to her feet. "Jack," she said helplessly, wanting to share her true feelings and yet terrified to do so. "I care what happens in your life." It was true, and yet it seemed a safer answer than the one that was shining in her eyes.

Jack was still playing with the drink he held, clutched in his hand like a lifeline. He finally spoke, and his words were a gentle rebuke as he tried not to hurt her too badly. "Jennifer, you have to stop this. You have to stop…this..." he finished helplessly, unable to put the proper words to what he was experiencing.

Jennifer was determined not to let his words hurt her. She had a much different response in mind. She moved closer to him, and breathlessly continued. "I can't stop this, Jack. And even if I could, I don't want to." She came closer, until she was standing right before him, and Jack was powerless to move. She went on. "This is where I want to be and who I want to be with." She extended an arm and lightly traced a finger up the sleeve of his jacket. The feeling caused Jack to shiver with an intensity he could not conceal. Jennifer grabbed a hold of that movement to gain some momentum, as she said softly. "I don't think you want me to be anywhere else, either, Jack." She spoke with a confidence she did not quite feel, but her love empowered her as she gazed up into his eyes, her own dusty with the depth of her feelings. "What do you want, Jack?" she asked, in a hypnotic voice, her finger continuing its lazy path up and down his arm. "What do you want?" Her voice was barely a whisper hanging in the air as he contemplated an answer.

"I - I want," he stammered, trying to gain control. "I want you ---"

"I want you, too," Jennifer cut in quickly, and in a flash she had removed the drink from his hand, set it beside them, and put a hand on each of his arms as she leaned up to kiss him gently but firmly.

"I - I want you to stop," Jack spoke between her kisses, but he did not push her away, either, and Jennifer knew the conflict within him. She understood him so much better than he realized, she thought lovingly.

"No you don't," she admonished with certainty. "You don't want me to stop, Jack. You want the same things I do, I know it." Jennifer was emboldened, and passion blazed in her eyes.

Jack gave himself over to the feeling of her, the scent and the intoxication her movements and words were to him. He welcomed her kisses for a moment, before breaking away and pulling back. "Jennifer," he said, shakily. "This has to stop!"

Jennifer refused to be deterred. "No it doesn't," she chided him with increased determination. "Jack, it doesn't have to stop. Not at all," she reached out to him with her eyes and her heart and her soul, and Jack felt the pull as if she had tied herself to his heart and was drawing him to her. "It's right, for both of us," she insisted.

"Us?" Jack echoed, desperate to end this, for her sake. "Jennifer, there is no us." His words were cutting and cruel, but he was trying to save her from making the greatest mistake of her life.

Jennifer had an odd light shimmering in her eyes, and the words that came next pressed into Jack's heart until it hammered out of control. "Oh, Jack," she breathed, holding him near without even touching him. "There is an us. You just don't know it yet…" her words trailed off as she waited for their impact to strike him. "There is an us and there is a we," she told him, firmly. "And I will never stop until you see it and feel it, just the way I do." Jennifer decided the best recourse at this point was to leave him with a few carefully chosen words and then leave Jack to think long and hard on what she shared, so she disengaged herself from the pull that was between them, and she moved toward the door. She paused a moment, looking back at Jack who was fighting his tormented feelings, and Jennifer smiled a smile of encouragement to him. Then she left him with parting words that would echo and reverberate through his aching mind for the rest of the night. "Jack Deveraux," she said, her voice issuing a sweet but definite challenge. "I am going to fight for us. This is war."

...to be continued...

Next time: Jennifer has declared war on Jack---Battle Round One commencing...

Chapter 14: A Picnic

Jennifer put in a good morning's work, in spite of the shaky start. By the time lunch rolled around, she had not seen Jack come out of his office once, and a thought began to tumble about and take shape in her mind.

Clearing out her word processor, Jennifer reached across the desktop for the Rolodex, and flipping casually through, she found what she was looking for. Picking up the telephone receiver, she put in a call to her favorite deli, and once the order had been placed, she smiled in self-satisfaction, stood, and pushed in her desk chair. Striding purposefully across to Jack's door, she attempted to peer through the drawn shades, to no avail. Leaning against the door, she put her ear up against the glass panel, trying to discern what was going on inside the office. When she was still no closer to determining what Jack was up to, she softly turned the knob and hesitantly pushed open the door. Fully expecting an admonition from Jack, she was surprised to be greeted by silence. Opening the door the rest of the way, Jennifer looked before her, and her heart gave a leap of tenderness.

Jack was hunched over the desk, one arm extended, the other curled under his chin. He was sleeping soundly. He looked so peaceful for the first time she could remember, and Jennifer knew all that he had been through in the past few short days; her heart went out to him. She would have done anything to make his life simpler, to ease his troubles, but she was powerless to do so. Nonetheless, she could let him sleep a bit longer. It certainly fit into her plans, she thought with pleasure, as she silently backed out of the office and closed the door softly.

It didn't take Jennifer long to gather together everything she needed, and by the time the food delivery arrived, she was practically set. Ignoring the questioning looks of her co-workers, Jennifer marched with determination into Jack's office, a basket of food and items in her hand. Yes, Jack was still asleep, and Jennifer set to work transforming his office into a picnic for two.

As she was spreading the cloth across the floor, Jack stirred and mumbled something in his sleep. Jennifer studied him cautiously and resumed her task. In a matter of moments, Jack's rather functional-but-uninspired office took on the look of an old-fashioned picnic ground. Jennifer set out the last of the condiments and then turned to where Jack was still sprawled across the desk. Saying a quick prayer, Jennifer crossed the room until she was standing just beside him. Contemplation was delicious as she debated ways to awaken her sleeping boss. The spirited side of her thought about putting her mouth up to his ear and shouting out his name. The gentle side of her imagined running fingers through his hair until he wakened slowly. Finally, Jennifer decided on a method that would suit her purposes. Crouching down beside the desk, she moved her face to within inches of his own and whispered, "Jack…"

"Hmmm…" Jack murmured in his sleep but continued his steady breathing, each new breath rattling the papers on the desk just below his face.

Jennifer smiled lovingly and tried again. "Jack?" This time she could not resist the temptation to reach out a hand and touch his sleeve. She ran a finger delicately down his arm and brushed fingertips against his knuckles.

From faraway Jack sensed her presence, and in that dream world where reality has not yet intruded, he invited her to him. "Jennifer?" he sighed on a breath. "Jennifer?"

"Jack," she answered softly, hardly daring to breathe. "I'm here."

There was an interminable wait, during which time the corners of Jack's mouth reached for a small smile, and he finally responded. "Good."

"Yeah," Jennifer agreed, somewhat shakily. "It's good."

Jack seemed to be returning from his beyond, and without much production, he suddenly opened one eye and tried to focus his fuzzy gaze on the vision before him. A second eye opened, followed by eyebrows that rose in a look of sleep-induced perplexity. Jack lifted his head slowly, desperately striving to get his bearings. He blinked and stretched, rubbing the back of his neck as he fought to come to grips with where he was and what was happening. "Jennifer," he questioned in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

She jumped to her feet, and before he could predetermine what she had in mind, she was behind him, helping him out of his suit jacket. She held the jacket tenderly as she draped it across the table behind them, and then she came around in front of him and forced his sleepy eyes to shift to her there. "Jack," she explained, as if to a small child. "You fell asleep. You have been working so hard, and with everything that has gone on in the past few days…" her voice trailed off. Sweeping an arm before them, she motioned to the surprise she'd laid out, and her next words penetrated the fog of his mind. "You need to take a break."

"What?" Jack could understand every word she spoke, but in their entirety, he was having difficulty comprehending what her words meant. "What are you doing?"

Jennifer smiled in sweet persistence, more than happy to explain. "It's a picnic, Jack," she told him, matter-of-factly. She shifted her attention to the setup on the floor, and busied herself with unloading the basket. "See? There's fried chicken and potato salad and all sorts of things." Jennifer was obviously pleased with herself, and Jack finally began to put the pieces of the situation together and realize what she had done. Her gesture touched him deeply. He was still too close to sleep to completely analyze what was happening, and before he could formulate a plan to keep her at arm's length, he allowed himself the pleasure of the moment as he stood to get a better look at the sight before him.

On the floor, skirt askew, her shoes abandoned for bare feet, Jennifer was putting out plates and napkins, as her blonde mane of hair swung forward and she unconsciously pulled it back. Jack was filled with a sudden rush of love and yearning, and he sat down weakly, afraid to speak aloud, that his voice would give away his innermost thoughts and feelings. Unable to come up with the words to turn her away, he was shocked and surprised when she made the next move. Returning to his side, she swiveled his chair around until he was facing her directly, and she swooped down and began to undo his shoelaces. Pulling off one shoe at a time, Jennifer was too engrossed in her mission; she completely missed Jack's look of horrified stupefaction. Not much that Jennifer did could surprise him anymore, but this was somehow shocking. And she didn't stop there. When each shoe had been removed, Jennifer reached forward and began to peel off Jack's socks. "Jennifer!" Jack was self-righteously indignant at her over-familiarity, but he didn't pull away.

Staring up at him in feigned innocence, Jennifer knew she had pushed her limits, but she cared not. Nothing mattered more to her than her most heartfelt longing to help Jack unwind and relax, if even for a few brief minutes. "C'mon, Jack," she cajoled him. "We're just going to have a little picnic. Just a short break, and then I promise you can get back to work again." She fixed doe eyes on him, and Jack melted inside, as he outwardly swallowed and searched for words to convey his disapproval. He knew he had to put a stop to this; things were already well out of control, and Jack could see them moving forward with dizzying speed. On the other hand, she had been so sweet to go to such lengths for him, and Jack didn't know how he could throw that back in her face.

Jennifer could see the struggle within him, and she moved ahead with lightning speed. Grasping him by a hand, she tugged until he reluctantly rose out of his seat, and guiding him around the outer corner of his desk, she led him to the feast spread out before them. Jack couldn't deny that he was hungry---famished, in fact. He allowed her to bring him forward, and then as he was facing the fact that he really did need to eat something, she sat down, legs tucked daintily under her sprawling skirt, and pulled on his hand in invitation to join her. Jack felt his knees give way as he sank slowly to the floor, the last remnants of sleep a vanishing memory as reality collided with rational thoughts.

"Ahhh, Jennifer," he began, and she instinctively knew where his words were leading him. She leaned forward quickly and shushed him with a ladylike finger placed delicately over his lips.

"Jack," she chided him. "Don't even think. Just eat." Lifting a deli pickle, she removed her finger from his lips and shoved the pickle into his protesting mouth.

Jack sputtered and removed the offending element from his mouth. "I hate pickles," he informed her with a shudder of distaste.

"That's funny," Jennifer responded with a chuckle. "I always had you pegged as a sourpuss." Her dancing eyes lighted on his, another challenge extended.

"Oh really," Jack countered, drolly, his eyes beginning to sparkle in return. The challenge accepted, he reached into the picnic basket and pulled out an éclair.

"Jack, no," Jennifer reached out, in remonstration. "Those are for dessert!" But Jack's weapon of offense came nearer until it was the merest inch from Jennifer's mouth. Stifling a giggle, she opened her mouth to welcome the tasty treat, and at the last moment, Jack lifted it upward, smearing a chocolate trail across her nose and onto her chin.

That's when things broke down completely. What had started as a tasting party rapidly became a small-scale food fight. When it was over, it was hard to say who had emerged the victor, but suddenly Jack and Jennifer found themselves frozen in the moment, heavy breathing mingling with expressions of surprise as they studied each other.

Much of the remaining lunch hour was devoted to cleaning up the mess, but Jack didn't complain, and Jennifer was floating on air every time her glance met Jack's or their hands accidentally touched, and she could see the look of satisfaction in his eyes. When the last of the leftovers were packed up, Jennifer reluctantly turned to Jack and said, "I guess we'd better get back to work."

Jack could sense her hesitation, and he knew that she was trying to discern his feelings and attitude. "Yes," he agreed, his voice serious, his expression non-committal. "Back to work." He turned away from her to hide the smile in his eyes, and Jennifer had to bolster herself against the disappointment that began to seep through her at his voice and tone. Scooping up the basket, Jennifer moved slowly toward the door, stopping only when Jack's voice reached her ears. "Uh, Jennifer…" She stopped and looked back at him, almost fearful as to what would come next, but a smile started to spread across her face like sun after a rainstorm. Jack was sending her a crooked smile, and his words reached across the room to her like a rainbow of promise for them both. "Thanks for lunch."

...to be continued...

Next time: Jack gets a visit from a friend and finds himself in hot water yet again.

Part 16 - The Deal

Jennifer heard the tentative knock on the door, and her face lit up in a million-watt smile. Practically racing for the door, she flung it open in greeting. Standing before her, Isabella looked pretty and cheerful. Beside her, Jack looked anything but. Morose, was more like it, Jennifer observed, and she turned down her smile and invited them in.

Isabella sailed forward, but Jack had to be prodded from his spot alongside the door. "Come on, Jack," she cajoled. "Just take it like a man." Jack wouldn't dignify that remark with a response, and he awkwardly entered into the loft.

"As promised," Isabella addressed Jennifer, a sweet and triumphant smile shining from her, "your gift." She gestured to Jack, who swallowed and looked as though he wished the floor would open up and engulf him.

"Isabella," Jennifer responded. "I told you, you really don't need to do this." But Jennifer's eyes, hidden from Jack, locked with Isabella's and they smiled as if they shared some sort of joke between them.

"Don't be silly," Isabella waved her hand in the air, her eyes sparkling. "It's no problem at all, right Jack?"

"Oh, right, right," Jack answered in a voice that was heavily laced with sarcasm. "No problem whatsoever."

"See?" Isabella abandoned Jack's attitude in favor of his words. "Besides, like I told you, this was Jack's idea."

"Now wait a minute," Jack leapt to his own defense. "None of this was my idea. In fact," he continued in disgust, "I don't know how I ever let you talk me into this." Jack was looking for an out, but he knew he wouldn't find one. Either one of these young ladies was a force to be reckoned with, but together, their combined will could be unbeatable. Jack was outnumbered and outmaneuvered, and he hated it. Almost.

Isabella reached into her handbag and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it over to Jennifer. "Just so you'll remember the terms of the agreement," Isabella informed her. "It's all there in black and white. My gift of gratitude to you for all you have done for me."

Jennifer smiled saucily and threw her look to Jack, who was trying to contain his nervousness. "Don't worry, Jack," she told him, happily. "I won't work you too hard." She perused the paper and studied the terms. Her "servant" was to be at her beckon call from 9:00 am for the duration of a twenty-four hour period. Jennifer hid a wry smile as her mind began to race with the possibilities. Biting the edge of her lip in thoughtful concentration, she lifted her eyes and stole a look at Jack, whose toe was awkwardly kicking at the floor. He avoided her glance and feigned sudden interest in his wristwatch, shaking it and checking the time. Jennifer's heart warmed.

"Well," said Isabella brightly. "You two don't need me at this point. I've got plenty to do, so I'll just head out and give a call later." Isabella didn't wait for a response, but moved toward the door, glancing back only briefly. She was certain they were in the right hands, and she slipped out of the loft on a breeze, leaving Jack and Jennifer alone, looking at one another in uncertainty.

"Uh, Jennifer," Jack began to address her, eager to clear the air. "We've had our little joke now, and Isabella's gone. Let's just call this one, shall we?"

"I don't know what you mean, Jack," came the reply, in a voice so filled with innocence that Jack gave her a hard stare. Then Jennifer allowed her face to register surprise, her eyes widening in shock. "Are you trying to get out of this?"

Jack laughed his nervous laugh and spoke. "Okay, you've had your fun, now I'm going to the office." He turned as if he were going to leave, but somehow Jennifer made it to the door first. He stopped and pulled back, studying her closely. Surely she didn't mean to go through with this lunacy? But Jennifer's expression was sincere.

"Fine by me," she responded coyly. "I have to get to work, too. I think you'll need to drive me, Jack." She broke off, her voice sounding strangely suspicious. "Something seems to be wrong with my car."

"Oh really?" Jack didn't buy it for a moment. "What seems to be the trouble?" He set the trap and waited for the capture.

"I don't know," Jennifer answered, slyly. "It's just running rough. I'd rather not drive it until I can have someone look at it."

"Yes, you do that," he suggested, in thinly veiled disgust. Then he sighed heavily and said, "okay, a ride it is."

When they got downstairs to the car, Jack paused and looked at her with that same distrustful expression. Snapping to attention, he clicked his heels and asked, "does Miss wish to ride in the back seat?"

Jennifer held back a giggle at his expression and words and answered, "no, thank you, Jack. The front seat, right beside you, will be just fine." She hopped into the car and waited as he sidled his way around to the driver's seat. Except that Jack couldn't go very far, as Jennifer's passenger side door was swung wide open.

"The door," he noted, fully expecting she'd reach out and shut it. But Jennifer sat primly, as if the notion of closing a car door was not to her liking. Jack got a pained look on his face as he realized just how far she was prepared to take all this. Sighing heavily, he got out of the driver's seat, crossed around, and closed the door for her, wearing a look that said 'I hope you are satisfied.'

"Thank you, Jack," Jennifer answered sweetly. She, at least, could see that this day was shaping up to be one exciting challenge.

As they drove off in silence, Jennifer purred, "ohhh, Jack. Could you do something for me?"

"Peel you a grape?" he asked, with sarcasm. Jack was glad that he had to have his eyes on the road so he could avoid her glances.

"Don't be silly," she said with a chuckle. "I was just going to ask you to turn on the radio."

Jack complied, wondering what would be next. And he'd only been at this for fifteen minutes! What would the rest of the day bring?

For her part, Jennifer sat in silent contemplation for the next few minutes. She decided that it would be much more fun to call for Jack's services sporadically, rather than bombard him with a constant stream. She knew the workings of Jack Deveraux's mind, and she knew beyond a doubt that it would be far more unsettling to him to be kept on his guard than to expect her constant requests. If Jennifer was going to go through with this, she might as well enjoy it to the fullest. Life might never hand her such an opportunity again.

The ride to the office was not a long one, but for Jack it seemed endless. He didn't know what was worse, the occasional 'requests' Jennifer doled out, or the moments of silence when he knew she was holding back for her next pronouncement. Jack's nerves were frazzled by the time he pulled into his regular parking space. Of course, Jennifer sat and waited, while he exited the car and came around to open her door. Every demand she placed on him was accompanied by a sweet "thank you," and Jack didn't know if he should be amused or aggravated.

As they made their way into the building together, Jack leaned nearer to Jennifer and spoke quietly. "Jennifer," he addressed her in serious tones. "Surely you don't mean to continue this in the office." His voice held a desperate note of urgency.

"Jack," Jennifer said in a loud whisper, matching his inflections. "Of course I do." Then she added, to torment him, "we've got the whole day together."

"Yeah," Jack echoed, dully, realizing that he was quickly running out of excuses.

Jennifer found his discomfort to be delightful. She was walking a fine line, pushing him without pushing beyond his limits. To Jennifer that challenge was thrilling. She could think of no better way to spend a day than to have Jack doting on her. Jennifer wondered how far she could take this out for a spin. She also knew that Jack would "fight" her every bit of the way. But that didn't matter to Jennifer. He would protest and complain, but Jack wouldn't be able to back out of it. Jennifer would have him at her disposal for the entire day and night, and she couldn't think of a prospect more appealing. He can't deny me, she reminded herself, a quick thrill running through her. After all, 'a deal's a deal,' she thought, biting back another smile.


...to be continued...

Next time: What happens when Jennifer brings it 'into the office?'

Part 18 - A Game

The workday was over and Jennifer was being chauffeured home by Jack, who sat silently in the driver's seat, willing himself not to say anything that might bring on another order from his taskmaster. Either that, Jennifer thought in amusement, or he was just too exhausted to keep up the conversation. Actually, Jennifer suspected, correctly, that Jack was busy trying to figure out what would happen when they got back to the loft.

He was still silent as they ascended the stairs and Jennifer pulled open the door. Then Jack looked at her with a funny expression and said, "okay, well, then. Have a nice evening." And he turned to leave. 'Bolt' would have been a better word, Jennifer thought.

"Jack," she interrupted, before he could get far. "Where do you think you are going?"

He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to face her. One side of his mouth turned up in a lopsided smile, and he nervously stammered, "uh, no-nowhere. Nowhere at all." He walked slowly back to her side, like a man awaiting his own execution.

Jennifer smiled sweetly and invited him in. "Do I have a choice?" he reminded her, and she smiled even more, shaking her head at him.

Once inside the apartment, Jennifer turned her back to him and asked that he help her remove her coat. Jack complied with barely a thought. His only concern at this moment was to finish his services and be on his way. Then, a horrifying thought crossed his mind. The terms of agreement said something about a 24-hour period. Surely Jennifer didn't expect he was going to spend the night? Did she? Jack's throat was suddenly dry and his heart began to pound. He reminded himself that he had spent the night there before, the last time being only hours ago. This was somehow different. This night, Jennifer could ask anything of him, and he would have to submit. She had already threatened him, saying that if he even thought about going back on the contract, she would notify Isabella and they would choose another day to begin the service all over again. Jack would sooner pull out his liver and serve it on a platter than allow that to happen! No, he would just have to muddle through the rest of the time allotted.

Jennifer was watching him as he struggled to figure it all out, and she turned aside to hang up her coat, gloating inwardly, just a little. Jack hung up his coat beside hers, looking almost glum. Jennifer would have felt sorry for him if she hadn't been enjoying herself so much.

"Awww, take it easy, Jack," she finally said, as he looked about the room as if he were planning escape routes. Jennifer was hit with a sudden spurt of conscience, and she decided to do something nice about it. "I'll tell you what," she said, kindly. "I'll even make dinner for us."

"No, no," Jack insisted. "That must be part of my terms of service, as well. No, I'll take care of dinner." Jack was suddenly working on a plan to buy himself a few stolen moments of freedom. "In fact," he continued, a bit too brightly, "I'll go out and get us something." He grabbed his coat and made a lunge for the door, where Jennifer met him, her own coat in her hands. "How do you do that," he muttered in disgust, and she couldn't hide her smile.

"I'll go with you," Jennifer told him and Jack sighed. If he thought the day had been endless, he was starting to have real concerns about the evening that stretched before them.

"Let's compromise," Jennifer suggested, using a word Jack might have thought she didn't know. "How about we order Chinese and bring it back here?" They had ordered at the office before, enough times by now to even have a favorite place. Jack looked at Jennifer and they both said, in unison, "Chinese Imperial." Sheepish smiles followed that exchange, and Jennifer moved over to the phone, saying, "I'll call in the order and have it delivered instead, okay?"

"Your one grand gesture," Jack mumbled, and when Jennifer turned and questioned him, he said loudly, "I said, the Szechwan will getcha. Better order the lo mein! And don't forget---"

"The eggroll," Jennifer finished the sentence for him. She dialed and placed the order, returning to Jack's side in a matter of moments. Neither knew what to say, and Jennifer finally said, "well, Jack. Make yourself comfortable."

As if that were possible, Jack thought, with sarcasm. He sat, like lead, on the sofa, hunched forward, just in case another opportunity for flight should present itself. "Okay, I'm comfortable," he responded, although Jennifer noted with continued enjoyment, that he looked anything but comfortable. "Now what?" Jack's voice held playful contempt. "You up for a tiddlywinks tournament?" His eyes raked across her face, and she just kept sending him that Jennifer smile.

"No, actually, I prefer a good thumb war, myself," she told him, as Jack sent her a look that seemed to say, 'you wouldn't.' Jennifer threw him a look of suppressed disappointment, and informed him of her intentions. "Take it easy," she advised him. "No thumb war."

"Thank you." Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "And my thumbs thank you." He had an inkling that Jennifer would beat him, hands down, and then he smirked at his own humor.

Jennifer watched him with interest, shaking her head as she wondered what was going through his mind. Observing Jack Deveraux as he grappled with his thoughts was like watching a dog trying to sniff out a bone in its backyard. You never quite knew what it was all about. She reserved comment, and went in another direction instead. "No tiddlywinks, no thumb war. But I do have an idea." She hopped up from where she'd been perched at the edge of the sofa and scampered off, giving Jack just enough time to relax, but not much. When she returned, she held a box, and triumphantly she thrust it toward him and said, "set it up."

Jack stared down at the box in his hand. "You've got to be kidding." Was she serious?

Jennifer gave him a look of surprise. "I'm perfectly serious," she said. "It's a great game. Don't even tell me you haven't played Monopoly, Jack, because I know better. This game was invented for you."

"Well, of course I've played Monopoly," Jack told her. "I wasn't raised in an igloo in the Aleutians, you know." He studied her carefully. "You are serious."

"Yes," she insisted, and then added, as though the impulse was too much to control, "shall I consult the terms of agreement again?"

It was all she needed to say, and Jack heaved a sigh, lifted the box lid, and began to set up the board and pieces on the coffee table. He was making quite a show of it, but inside, Jack was grinning to the high heaven. Finally---his revenge. Jennifer might have him at her beckon call, but if she honestly thought there was any way she could oust him at this game, she had another thing coming. She was right about one thing: this was his game, all right.

Jack chose his playing piece and set it at the starting line. Jennifer observed with a hidden smile, and then, just for the fun of it said, "thank you, Jack. I'll use the car."

Jack's eyes jumped to her face, a small frown forming a crinkle between his eyes. "The car is mine," he told her. "I always use the car."

"Use something else," Jennifer suggested. "I want the car."

Jack was thrown. He didn't know what to say or how to get out of this. The car was 'his piece.' He had always used the car. He groped for the words to explain that, without having to give away the fact that he was so dependent on a little metal playing piece. He wasn't sure he could even play the game, if he wasn't using the car. It might distract him too much. Jack was thinking way too much about the whole thing.

Jennifer watched him, enjoying every moment of his discomfort. This was actually shaping up to be better than the game itself. Jack's unease was palpable, and he was having trouble getting past the moment. Jennifer turned up the charm and said, nonchalantly, "After all, it's just a game piece, right Jack? It shouldn't matter which piece you choose."

"Well, of course," he laughed, nervously, and Jennifer was amused to see just how much this was bugging him. As much as she relished the opportunity to torment him, just a bit, Jennifer recognized that it did mean something to him, no matter how silly it seemed to her, and she relented.

"Oh, go ahead and take the car," she told him, waving her hand as if it were of no importance, either way, to her. "Give me the shoe then." Jack complied, hiding his sigh of relief. He muttered something just under his breath about the shoe being indicative of her Cinderella complex, which Jennifer decided to ignore. Then, to disguise his flustered and shaky start, Jack quickly reached for the game money and began to rapidly dole out the necessary amount to each of them. "Don't cheat me, I'm watching you, Jack." Jennifer was, indeed, watching him closely.

"I don't need to cheat," Jack snorted with disgust. "I'm gonna wipe you up with this game." He certainly did seem at ease again.

They had gotten around the gameboard four or five times, when the food delivery arrived. Jack paused long enough to cross to the door, pay the deliveryman, and carry the bags to the counter. Then he fairly sprinted back to his position, as he studied the board closely, making sure that Jennifer hadn't disrupted the game in any way.

For her part, Jennifer was still greatly amused to see at what level Jack operated with this game. You would have thought he was performing brain surgery, so great was his concentration and commitment to the task before him. When he was satisfied that things were as they should be, he visibly calmed.

"Why don't we take a break and have something to eat," Jennifer suggested. Jack looked at her as though the idea were absurd-to leave the game just for food. And when Jennifer insisted, he looked so miserable at the prospect that she sighed and said, "okay, we'll bring the food over here."

Jennifer watched him as he brought the food over and carefully set it out, being cautious to keep it away from the game itself. It was so endearing to watch him, she thought with a smile. The game obviously meant so much to him. And then Jennifer realized, with a start, how much the greater game meant to her, and she sighed at them both. They were each playing a game, she realized. And who was going to win would be the most important outcome of her life.

...to be continued...

Next time: Who wins the game, and what will happen next?

Chapter 20 - A Bath

Jennifer loved a good bath. She sat, relaxing in the bubbles, her mind and body at perfect ease, and she sighed in contentment. The most relaxing thought, the one that gave her the most pleasure in contemplation, was that Jack was nearby, close enough to call, if she should need to. And Jennifer toyed with the idea of calling him now. She imagined, with great enjoyment, the look on his face, should she call him to come running. And he would ask what she wanted. And she would respond with one word: you. Jennifer smiled as she imagined Jack's look of shock at that announcement. Oh, it was a lovely imagining…

Downstairs, Jack was plumping pillows and setting out sheets, preparing to park himself, for the night, on Jennifer's sofa. Too bad I didn't bring my jammies, he thought in wry humor. But the truth of the matter was, Jack was not displeased by the turn of these events. It had been an interesting day, and it had been a great evening. Oh, he would never confess that to her, but secretly, he acknowledged it to himself. Jack plopped on the sofa, allowing himself the luxury of a few minutes of fantasy. He wondered what it would be like to share his life with Jennifer, to wake up each morning with her at his side. To spend each evening, as they had, in a series of adventures, followed by what, he was sure, would amount to wild and exciting nights. It was a dream, but it was a splendid dream…

Jack was so at peace with his thoughts that he began to doze off. He wasn't far toward sleep, when a sound punctured his rest. From upstairs he heard, "Jack!" It was Jennifer, and she sounded frantic. Jack hurtled to his feet and charged up the stairs, taking her bedroom in three long strides, before flinging open the bathroom door, without a thought but her safety. And there she sat in the bathwater, her blond hair held up with a clasp as tendrils fell about her shoulders, her eyes wide and innocent, and a small smile curved about her mouth. He gasped for breath and looked at her in concern, and she said sweetly, "I'm sorry, did I startle you?"

"No," he continued to try to steady his breathing. "I was just running laps around the coffee table." He held a hand over his pounding heart and swallowed a large breath of air. "You know, everyone should have a good exercise regimen. Really gets the blood to circulate, too." Jack was beginning to be calmer. He tried to avoid really looking at her, sitting so adorably in the bathtub, and he focused his attention on her eyes instead. "What is it?" he finally asked.

Jennifer smiled at him in an amiable way. "I was just wondering if you knew the date of the next full moon?" It was so utterly ridiculous that Jack stared at her in disbelief.

"Am I keeper of the calendar?" he finally asked, irritated by the frivolous request that had nearly resulted in his own heart failure.

"Then you don't know," Jennifer restated. "Oh," she said and then, "never mind."

Jack looked at her as though she had suddenly sprouted a new head. He shook his own head and gave her a warning look, and then he backed out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He made it as far as the bottom step, when he heard her voice call to him again, this time in a sweet, "oh, Jack…"

He let out a snort of disgust and wearily climbed the steps back up to her room, and when he got to the bathroom door, he opened it slowly, to see her looking at him with her mouth serious, but a smile in her eyes.

"Now what is it?" He was almost afraid to ask.

"I saw a spider," she told him, in a tone so serious that he tended to believe she had, indeed, seen one.

"Where?"

"Right there," she pointed a soapy finger. "On the wall." Jennifer crinkled her nose in disgust, and Jack saw that there really was a small spider on the wall.

"Yeah, well," he stalled. "What am I supposed to do about it?"

"Kill it." She was firm and concise.

Jack hated spiders, and he really did not wish to have to deal with this one, but he sighed, understanding that Jennifer would insist, and there was probably no way he could get out of it. He crossed over to stand beside it, concealing a shudder of distaste. "You really want me to kill it?" he asked, hoping she might change her mind. "It probably has a wife and children, maybe even a dog. You might be breaking up a lovely family."

She was insistent. "Kill it," came the command, and Jack had no choice but to abide by her ruling. Hesitantly, he looked about the bathroom for a weapon of choice, and he finally settled on picking up one of her slippers. Holding it aloft as a Zulu warrior would a spear, he began his approach, only to be stopped mid-track by Jennifer's squeal of protest. Looking at her in surprise, he inquired as to what was wrong. "Not my slipper," she answered. "Use something else!"

A sigh met her demand. "What do you suggest?" he asked, wearily.

Jennifer's eyes swept the room, and they settled on a reasonable substitute. "That," she said, pointing. Jack followed her line of vision and he picked up the can of hairspray. Even better, he thought in relief. Armed with this new weapon, he advanced. When he was at a reasonable distance, he held out the spray can and gave a short blast in the proper direction.

"Yeeeow!" In his haste and confusion, Jack had been holding the can the wrong way, and the hairspray meant to serve as spider-killer, became instead the implement to take out his eyesight. He dropped the can, hands to his eyes, rubbing frantically and muttering. Jennifer stifled a smile and reached out a washcloth to him.

"Here," she offered, and he grabbed it in desperation. Unfortunately, the washcloth had already made contact with the soapy water, and it only served to further irritate his already smarting eyes.

"What's the matter with you?" he complained, loudly. "You trying to completely blind me?" He groped about until he found the towel on the door and gratefully applied it to his face, as he leaned against the sink and waited for his eyes to return to normal. "Now I know how the Cyclops felt," he muttered in aggravation. "Homer should have just left him with his sight. I mean the guy had only one eye to begin with…"

Jack's two eyes hidden in the towel, he completely missed Jennifer's chuckle of glee. This was certainly turning out to be the single most entertaining evening of her life, she thought. Yes, it was the simple things in life that were, by far, the most enjoyable.

Finally, Jack lowered the towel and met her look with a disgusted one of his own. "Are you happy now?" he questioned.

"No," Jennifer was blunt. "You didn't kill the spider yet."

Jack briefly considered the merits of strangling her, but even in the midst of his discomfort and injury, he was having too good a time. Without a word, he picked up her slipper and smashed the spider flat onto the wall. He defiantly left the slipper, now with spider guts attached, on the floor and stalked out of the bathroom with a small slam of the door. He debated the wisdom of returning downstairs, sensing that he'd get there, only to be summoned back, and instead, he plopped wearily on to Jennifer's bed, the towel still clutched in his hand.

In the bathroom, Jennifer laughed softly, deciding if she should push things a little bit farther, or let it go. She took pity on Jack's poor eyes, and she decided she'd let things rest, for now. Finishing her bath, she flipped the lever and watched as the bath water slowly began to drain from the tub. Jennifer stood up, shook off a bit, and went to reach for the towel on the door. Except that now the towel was gone. Jack had used it on his eyes, and it was apparently still with him. She screwed up her face in a frown and looked about the bathroom for a new towel. There weren't any. And she had left her bathrobe in the next room. She looked about the room for something, anything with which to cover her exposed body, but there didn't appear to be anything she could use.

Sighing in frustration, the delicious bath now forgotten, Jennifer looked again, and still found nothing. She would have settled back down into the water and called to Jack, but the last of the bubbly water was a small puddle, rapidly heading down the drain, and Jennifer was stumped. Now what to do? Finally, in desperation, she grabbed the bath mat from the floor and covered herself as best she could with it. "Jack?" she called.

Jack, lying on her bed, didn't respond right away. He couldn't imagine what nonsense she had planned now, but he greatly admired her fortitude. She really was going to get her mileage out of these circumstances. Her voice came to him again, and he called back to her. "What?"

"Come here," she called, distractedly, trying to hold the bathmat in place.

"What do you want?" he repeated.

Jennifer knew she had no choice but to confess her dilemma. In a small voice, she answered. "You have my towel."

A grin of amusement made its home on Jack's face. "Yes, I do," he called back, in smug pleasure. One more tally in the Jack column, he thought with wicked delight, as he lay on the bed, not moving.

"Jack," Jennifer called, in mortification. "Bring it to me, please."

Oh, he wasn't going to deny her that, but he could at least enjoy it a little bit. "I'll be there in a minute," he called back, hiding the gleefulness he felt from his voice.

"Jack! Now!" He heard her frustration.

"Oh, all right," he called back in pretend disgust. "Keep your shirt on."

"I wish I had one!" she called back, and he chuckled softly. Jack crossed the room and threw open the bathroom door, as Jennifer frantically tried to cover herself with the now slimy bath mat. Jack studied her with great enjoyment, as he held up the towel in his hands.

"Is this what you are looking for?" he inquired, innocently. "You know," he went on before she could answer. "You really ought to dry off. You'll catch your death."

"Jack," she said in frustration. "Give me the towel. And don't look. I swear, if you take one look at me…" her voice trailed off.

He smiled again, and then averting his gaze, he held out the towel, just past her arm's length. Jennifer lunged for it, nearly losing her protective covering in the process. Jack leaned a little closer, and she grabbed ahold of it and yanked it out of his hands.

"You're welcome," he said, politely, and without a further word, he turned and fairly danced out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. As he crossed the room and headed down the stairs, Jack thought with self-satisfaction that he didn't know when was the last time he had enjoyed a bath so much.

...to be continued...

Next time: What happens when bathtime is over and bedtime is nigh?