._ ._.. ._ _ ._ _._ _ ... ._.. _ _ _ ..._ . (Always Love) Ch. 9/?

[inanna7]

Title: ._ ._.. ._ _ ._ _._ _ ... ._.. _ _ _ ..._ . (Always Love)
Characters: Beck, Heather, OCs
Rating: PG -- 13
Chapters: 9/?
Disclaimer: Sooo don't own Jericho...
Unbetaed, all mistakes are my own. Rating change for a brief, but intense couple of moments between two of the characters.
There are some author notes following the chapter.

Over the next week, Carlos and I hammered out details on how we were going to distract Mr. Kase's entourage. Among the people he had recruited was Dolores from accounting, saying that she was the sweet outgoing grandmother type.

"Which means she can talk bark off a tree," he said when I asked him to clarify.

"She'll be able to keep at least three or four people occupied just by herself. I've got a bet going on with Will that she'll be able to keep more people occupied than him."

"Hmm. Does Dolores know about this?"

"She's the one who proposed it."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise before letting out a giggle. I suppose I thought of Dolores too much as the doting grandmother to imagine she had a competitive streak. She needed to have one to compete against Will, the Ambassador's aide.

It hadn't taken me more than a week of working in the offices to debate on whose charm was more disarming, Carlos's or Will's. Their attitudes differed though. Carlos seemed quite content to focus all of that charm on me whereas Will seemed more at home charming a crowd.

"And then there's Maggie," Carlos said.

I stopped in the middle of jotting notes. I probably misheard him.

I must have misheard him.

"I'm sorry?" I replied. He frowned at my confusion.

"Maggie," he repeated.

"Are you sure? She is kind of, um, accident proned. I'm not sure being among so many people at the Ball would improve her situation."

"She's a little clumsy, Heather, not a child with special needs that needs constant attention."

"That's not what I meant. I just think that it's better to expound one's strengths, not exploit their weaknesses."

"And actually I was thinking that I could use something of Maggie's that is normally a weakness and make it a strength. Look, Heather, Kase's personal aide is on him like glue. I'm counting on Maggie to be her own one-woman hurricane to get him away from Kase long enough for Travis and me to make our move. She's an integral part of the plan."

I looked down at my notes, avoiding his eye contact. Despite the funny twitch I got when I thought about her, I still didn't think it was right and told him so.

"I'm sorry, Carlos, but I don't know how much Maggie would appreciate being the foil of your schemes."

He sighed.

"If all goes as planned, I was going to give her the day off with pay and send her to that new spa on the Boardwalk she's been raving about."

Part of me still felt guilty about how they were planning to set Maggie up. I don't know how I'd react if I were in her shoes. But I suppose I'd feel more than a little hurt by it all. I hoped that what Carlos had in mind to make up for it would be enough.

At the end of the day, I left Carlos in his office to gather my sweater and purse, promising to meet him outside in twenty minutes time.

I checked my email to see if there were any pressing matters that needed to be addressed. Sitting in my inbox was a message from Luna.

My body flushed in a cold wave. I hesistated for several moments before opening it.

Were Lisa and Angel still alive? The altruistic side of me eagerly hoped that they were ok and I could at least give Edward his family back. But there was a black thought that no matter how hard I tried to suppress, wiggled and wormed its way around my heart.

Even though I was falling for Carlos, and I admitted that to myself now, I was still attrached to Edward. And that part didn't want his family to be found. Because finding them would mean losing any chance we might have of being together.

And it was in the moment of realizing this that I didn't like myself at all. And with that self-loathing, I was able to tackle the dark thought and shove it out of my mind. So with angst and guilt, I opened the email.

Miss Lisinski, I would like to express my deepest appreciation on your inquiry into the well being of my granddaughter and great granddaughter. Unfortunately, I have neither seen nor heard from them since the attacks. I am relieved to know that Edward is alive and well. Please tell me if he still carries that old photo of his beloved dog in his wallet? I'm eager to hear of any news of him. I'll be waiting patiently for your reply. Have a blessed day.

By the time I read the last sentence, there was no doubt in my mind that something was amiss. It was obvious that they were testing me. Perhaps her years of having the tribal council watching her made her suspicious of everyone? But if she was suspicious of someone in the council, chances are she would have never acknowledged my email.

So there had to be someone else. Jennings and Rall seemed to be the most likely candidate. J & R may have known about the money withdrawals, but I doubted that they had the information that the BIA did. The tribal council begrudgingly worked with the federal government as it was. I couldn't see them welcoming J & R or the ASA with open arms.

But if J & R had one opportunity closed to them, didn't mean that they would attempt to create another? So that could explain why Luna was testing me, to see if I was from J & R or if I was someone in which she could place her trust.

I sat back in my chair, trying to think of the few details Edward had told me about Lisa and Angel.

Edward didn't talk about them that much. Not because he was forgetting about them. It was quite the contrary. As each day of separation passed, their presence in his life became stronger.

He didn't talk about them for fear that the hope that they were alive and well that he harbored so deeply within himself would be for nothing. I figured that out late one evening when we spoke in his office.

He had asked me about my relationship with my father. I had been a bit thrown by his question because I never really talked about my father to anyone. In time, the people of Jericho and New Bern realized it was a subject to be avoided with me.

But Edward was an outsider. He didn't know about the unseen elephants that roamed in Jericho and New Bern. Earlier in the day, he had learned that the hard way.

"That's why I picked you as my liaison, Heather," he said after he made a comment to Skylar that her parents might be proud of how she'd gotten on after the attacks, but probably wouldn't be too crazy about her being with Dale Turner.

Skylar looked at me as if to say 'Is this guy for real?', then looked back at him. Edward had the same stoic look on his face. She just scoffed as she shook her head and then turned on her heel and left the office. She linked her arm into Dale's and they left without so much as a backward glance.

"She's right," I said. "You don't understand. She's gotten on as well as she has because of Dale. The same could be said for Jericho. Nobody actually says so, most just look the other way. Probably because they don't want to admit to the changes that happened after the attacks might be permanent. I'm sure if her parents came back, they definitely wouldn't want to admit to it."

He looked at me for a moment and then down at his desk. He sighed.

"You know, you need to let me know when I'm making a mistake like that. That's one of the reasons why I picked you as my liaison, Heather."

"What am I suppose to do, kick you?" I joked.

"If that's what it takes," he said in all seriousness.

I stared at him.

"How about I just clear my throat instead and apologize for interrupting? It would give you the perfect opportunity to change the subject."

A soft chuckle filled the room. I looked at him with curiosity.

He raised his head, looking me in the eyes. Humor glinted in his eyes and I felt a smile tug at my lips in response.

"I don't know, Heather," he teased, "You may be coughing a lot."

Laughter bubbled up from my chest.

"Well, then," I said, trying hard to keep my giggling at bay, "I guess people will just have to think I've got a cold I can't shake."

"Oh, so I'm a cold now?"

My laughter came out in force then.

"Major Beck, I don't think anyone who knew you would use the word cold to describe you."

He chuckled again. The lightness in my heart seemed to grow and expand at the sound.

"No, I suppose they wouldn't."

It had turned into one of my fondest memories. Hearing him laugh, seeing him smile, and being able to join in. It was a rare treat.

Later that evening, when the day's work had been done, I went in and debriefed him on the needs and supplies of New Bern. Once that was done, it felt only natural for us to drift into other subjects.

Until he asked about my father.

When I didn't respond, he said, " I'm guessing this is where you clear your throat."

I gave him a weak smile at his attempt at humor.

He signed and said, "Nope, it looks like I'm going to get kicked instead."

The silence in the room stretched out and we both fidgeted. I took a deep breath before I spoke, trying to dispel my anxiety.

"No, it's not that," I said. "It's just very difficult for me to talk about my father."

He tilted his head to the side, giving me an obvious look of concern. I avoided his gaze, focusing on how my thumbnail ran along the edge of the desk instead.

"Sometimes, I think if I don't talk about him, people will only remember him at his best times, when I was a very little girl. Before Mom got ill. Everyone thought he was very likable then -- a good man -- people in New Bern would say.

"After Mom was diagnosed, the light in his eyes left, you know?" I said, glancing briefly at Edward. He sat there just staring at me with that concerned look. I hastily looked back down at my thumbnail trailing random patterns on the desk.

"Francine would call us in the wee hours of the morning to come pick up Dad because he had passed out drunk in her bar. Then there were the days or sometimes weeks that would go by that we didn't know were he was. He'd just go off to parts unknown without as much as a word to us."

I paused. A lump had formed quietly in my throat as I spoke. I swallowed several times.

"You don't need to tell me any more, Heather," he whispered.

"Oh, but I do," I replied, looking up at him. I surprised myself when I suddenly sniffled.

"You don't know the reason why I don't talk about my dad," I said after another moment. "He was a good man, but he got lost. And it's not that there weren't people who didn't want to help him, but for the most part, the people in New Bern, they just gave up on him. They just saw him as this pathetic shell of a man and passed him over. They were only willing to give him that one chance and if he messed it up, well, it wasn't their problem."

"So, I don't talk about my dad, hoping that his faults will fade from people's minds and that they'll only remember a man who was deeply in love with his wife and doted on his daughter."

I looked away. I knew what was coming next. Some sort of pity, may be even sympathy, but more than likely him telling me that my deepest fear, my deepest hope, was all just silly. Perhaps not looking at him would make me feel less vulnerable and the pain would be less. Talking about it felt as if I had taken the bandages off of a wound that had never really stopped bleeding.

"And if they can remember that, then maybe the bad memories will fade away for me, too. And I'll be able to look back and just remember him as happy."

When I looked up at Edward, his head was bent. He seemed lost in studying the grain of the desk, not saying a word about my admission. I was surprised at what he told me next.

"You know the picture I carry in my helmet?"

I nodded. Even though he did not look up, he seemed to sense my assent.

"I took it just before I left for Afghanistan. That picture's more than four years old by now. It was our last full day together. When I woke up, you could feel the mugginess in the air, knew that there was going to be a storm that day. To me, it was a sign to have fun with my family while I still could.

"So I got up, went into the backyard and picked some wildflowers. Then I went into the kitchen and made pancakes for Angel. I put a little cinnamon and brown sugar in them. She really likes it when I do that.

"Lisa walked out to the kitchen as I was cooking and gave me a kiss. When she was getting some juice out of the fridge, I snuck up and surprised her with the wildflowers I picked.

She turned to me, giving me this big kiss and said, "You're an incurable romantic, you know that?"

"I said to her that if that was the reward for being incurable, I never wanted to find a cure.

"She laughed. She has this rich, beautiful laugh, you know? The kind of laugh that you can't help but join in because it lightens up the whole room.

"She dropped a kiss on my shoulder and walked to the freezer. She pulled out some blueberries and ran the bag under some water to thaw them for the pancakes. Every few minutes, she would look over at me and grin.

"When Angel came in, she realized what we were making and her whole face just lit up."

The look in his eyes was distant. He was no longer in that office with me, but back in his home, reliving that day moment by moment with his wife and child.

"Afterward, she told me it was the best breakfast she ever had. Which was pretty funny because her lips were stained blue with all the blueberries she had eaten.

"A little while later, we walked down to the park. Lisa and I sat on the bench and watched Angel tear around the playground. Well, that was until Angel dragged me to my feet and I went out and played with her for a bit.

"She kept yelling out, 'Higher, Daddy! Higher!' when she was on the swings. She was a bit of a daredevil. I think she got that more from her mother than me. I always got nervous when she swung more than a couple of feet high.

"I called it a day when the storm clouds started to block out the sun. Angel would have stayed there through the rain and the lightning, but I told her that she wouldn't be able to go her best friend's sleep over in a few nights if she caught a cold. That pretty much settled things for her right there.

"When we got home, I helped her build a fort under the dining table while Lisa made lunch. Later on, we sat on the porch and watched the storm. Angel would point to different clouds, telling us wha they looked like. Though when she got too close to the edge of the porch, Lisa would say, 'Uh, no, I'm not cleaning up your muddy little footprints, cute as they are. You can mosey right back over here." Angel would scoot back a bit and then walk back to the edge. Finally, Lisa got up, walked over and started to get into a tickle war with her."

He stopped, again lost in the moment.

"It was the most beautiful thing to watch. I could see the affection that they had for one another just radiating off them. So I jumped up and grabbed the camera. I took a shot of them as they looked up at me as I came out the front door.

"Angel jumped into my arms right after that and said, 'I think this has been the best day ever, Daddy.'"

He paused.

"I agreed with her."

He was silent for some time after that.

"And I sit here and think that if I can keep that day in my mind, I can go back home. That it will all be okay."

And that's when I understood why he never spoke of them. He kept the thought of that day alive to combat the growing doubts that they survived. His fear was the same as mine. Afraid that if he gave his hope a voice, he's be told it was all foolish.

Just like me. He was just like me. Sitting there, feeling exposed, hoping that the one person that might be able to empathize with him won't tell him he's crazy.

I pulled my hands off the desk and down into my lap because I so wanted to place my hands in his. Something told me that he wouldn't take too kindly to that.

"Who knows? Maybe you'll be able to see them again before the summer ends," I said.

A small smile formed on his lips and after a moment, he looked up at me.

"Yeah, I hope so, too."

The next few weeks, we fell into an easy rapport. He seemed to pick up on the elephants in the room a lot quicker after our talk. I guess it was a certain look in the eye of the people that he was talking to or maybe it was the way they spoke or a gesture. I don't think I cleared my throat on more than a few occasions.

He would tell me bits and pieces about his life with Lisa and Angel during that time. It still wasn't much. Usually only a detail or two as we traveled to and from City Hall to oversee different projects or to talk to a person of interest. Most we stuck to safe subjects, the weather, sciences, books, music. At first he struck me as being an R & B type guy, so I was quite surprised when he told me Beethoven's Third Symphony was one of his favorite pieces of music.

He told me how Angel loved fruit, especially berries. To the point that Lisa or he would have to hide them if they brought them home and wanted them to last for anything longer than a few hours. That blue was Angel's favorite color and Lisa's was yellow. He teased Lisa about how she always planted her seeds in the garden four to a hole. And she would just look at him and shake her head, telling him he only planted one see to a hole because he didn't know any better and that she was doing it the right way. Lisa loved orchids, but was just as happy with a bouquet of field flowers. Angel liked to climb the big oak that grew out in the backyard and if they didn't know where she was, the oak was the first place they looked.

I sat there, looking at the computer screen as I racked my brains over what would be the most unique detail that Edward told me about them. Something that only a few people would know or confirm. I remember a bedtime lullaby he had mentioned that he and Lisa use to sing to Angel when she was little and still afraid of the dark.

I hit the reply button and typed that Edward was doing well when I last heard from him, but it had been a few months since our last contact.

He may have a dog, I wrote, but I've never seen a picture of one in his wallet, nor has he ever mentioned one. He did say, however, that he and Lisa use to sing a lullaby to Angel called "Sweet Dreams". And that said lullaby sounds suspiciously like "Happy Trails" to most people. Is that true or was he just pulling my leg? Please let me know. Have a good day. Sincerely yours, Heather Lisinski

I hit the send button. In hindsight, I realized that she may view my response as being short in more ways than one. So be it. I wasn't much in the mood for game playing at this point. If she couldn't or wouldn't give me the answers I needed this way, I'd find another. Even if that meant going out to Laguna Pueblo and talking to her face to face.

"Waiting long?" I asked Carlos when I met up with him on the plaza outside.

"No, not at all."

Once we had walked a couple of blocks away, he slipped his hand into mine and gave it a squeeze.

"I'm sorry if our diversion plans upset you."

I sighed.

"In the end, I don't think it's going to matter how I feel. It's how Maggie's going to feel."

"Well, I think she's more of a trooper than you give her credit for. Yeah, she's disorganized, and forgetful, and she gives me more work to do instead of less. But there are times when she gives me a look and I just get the feeling that it's all clicking for her. That she actually gets it."

That twitch in the back of my head regarding her snapped and sparked over his comments. Hawkins knew that there was a leak in the Ambassador's office and assumed it was Carlos. Couldn't it just as easily be someone who has access to the same documents as Carlos and that he trusts?

An ugly sense of deja vu crawled into my thoughts.

This was different, I argued with myself. I was saving people when I took that page from Edward's office. Hawkins, Jake, the people of Jericho and Edward.

Especially Edward.

This was different. People were getting killed over this, Hawkins had said. And I believed him. It wasn't a lie or an exaggeration that this leak needed to be fixedm and as soon as possible.

"Are you okay?" Carlos asked, dismissing my thoughts with a nudge of his shoulder.

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine," I lied. "Just getting distracted by my walking buddy."

We walked down to the corner and turned toward the park.

"You know," he said, "You don't have to change the subject to get me to kiss you."

He leaned over and gave me a peck on the tip of my nose.

I flushed. I had underestimated his power of observation.

"I'm not changing the subject," I protested weakly.

He raised a brow at me.

Underestimated it greatly, I admonished myself.

"Ok, maybe I am. But it's not Maggie that I'm thinking of right now. It's a problem from home."

He stopped abruptly and turned me to face him. There was no missing the look of concern he had.

"What's wrong?"

I knew by the tone in his voice that we would not be traveling a step further in any direction until I gave him some sort of explanation. But there was something else in his voice that seemed to calm some of the fear I was having, centering me and allowing me to focus on the here and now. I hadn't realized until now that effect that he had on me and I don't think he'd ever know how grateful I was for that ability of his.

"One of my friends from Jericho gave me a confidence about another friend of mine and wants me to act upon it. But I'm beginning to believe what I was told is part of some bigger misunderstanding. But I'm afraid that if I don't act on this information, I might be making things an even bigger mess than they already are."

He relaxed his stance a bit.

"Do you want me to help you fix the problem?"

I don't know if it was something in the way that he said that, or the way that he looked at me.

He'd go out and slay dragons for me if I asked him, I thought. Hawkins is wrong about him. The mole has to be someone else. Hawkins is wrong about Carlos.

On impulse, I reached up, clasping his cheeks between the palms of my hands and gave him a smoldering kiss.

His fingertips pressed into my hips as my eyes drifted shut. I could feel the cresent shape of his nails digging into my skin.

My mind recalled the smell of spice and musk that dampened out the smell of citrus and cedar and I deepened the kiss. Wild thoughts raced through my mind, seeing myself taste the skin above a man's breastbone then sliding down to the hollow of his hip to see if it tasted the same. I grasped a fistful of hair between my fingers.

And suddenly, I was back outside a cave, in the dead of night, holding onto a man that giving me measure for measure in desperation and exultation.

Carlos cupped my bottom, pulling me against him. His erection pressed against my belly as he moaned into my mouth.

It hit me like a slap of cold water. I gasped and broke off the kiss, stumbling out of his embrace.

His eyes were completely dark. The scent of his cologne filled the air. As he looked at the fear on my face, confusion slowly formed over his features, replacing the desire that was there only moments before.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm not ready for this."

"It's all right," he said. His voice was clipped and he shoved his clenched hands into his pockets.

Guilt ate at me. I didn't understand why this was happening to me. I had kissed Carlos with some intensity on other occasions before this, but now, when my body wanted to take the next step, my mind ellicited images of another man. A man who I could have a future with was looking infinitesimally small. I looked up at Carlos, at the confused and hurt look on his face, and wouldn't be surprised if he accused me of leading him on.

Was I? To say that my emotions and thoughts were a jumbled mess at this point was understating it. I had to get this straightened out in my head and in my heart.

Carlos was still staring at me.

I have to get it straightened out for him. He's been so good. He'll give you the moon and the stars, what will Edward give you?

I don't know, came back the weak reply, but I want the chance to find out.

Oh this is nonsense. Get it together, girl. Get it together.

But the more I pressed my feelings into what I wanted them to do, the more they seemed to fly apart. To the point that I was ready to cry out in frustration.

Carlos, seeing my distress, reached out and clasped my hand in his.

"Heather, it's ok. I'm not going anywhere and I don't want to rush you into anything. When you're ready, I'll be here."

Again his voice calmed the roiling emotions within me and I took a deep breath. The calmness moved outward from my chest, into my arms and down my legs. The frustration that threatened to break loose only a few minutes before ebbed away.

"Thank you," I said, walking over to him. I reached out, carressing his cheek with the back of my hand. He grabbed my hand in his, pressing my fingertips to his lips. A small shiver an down my spine at the gentle contact.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving," he said. "Do you want to grab some pizza?"

"Sure," I said, tucking my hand into elbow. I gave him a soft smile.

He dropped a kiss onto my temple and lead me down to the Boardwalk.

I'm posting this chapter in the dead of night (for me) because I woke up this morning to discover that the hard drive I had been saving my story to decided to self destruct, or at least its motor is really giving it the college try anyway. Thank God I had printed up a hard copy a couple of weeks ago to get rid of some of the smaller errors such as missing words (I can be pretty bad about that, in case you haven't noticed :)) and some story editing. However, transcribing and editing into Wordpad is not fun. I figure I can rewrite the two or three pages that I saved and didn't have a hard copy of. If we can't get the data off the disk, I'll probably kiss my photos good bye :/ I'm trying to stay hopefully, because many of the photos I had been complimented on & was aiming to sell.

To reference the elephants in the room scene, this is one point in season 2 where I've had real issues with the time line. In Patriots & Tyrants, Russell makes a reference to Beck being in New Bern for a few months, but I think the writers seemed to forget about that in the middle of the season. The scene where Heather thanks Beck for sending the medicine and he reveals that he's married seems wrong in the timeline, not so much the thanks, but the fact that she has been acting as his liaison for at least 5, 6 weeks, maybe more at this point, and now all of a sudden she finds out he's married. Not the status of the marriage, which I could understand taking that long or even longer, just that he's married. I'm sorry, that just seems unrealistic to me. I'd see her getting information like that at 2 or 3 weeks at the outside and that's from Beck, I would think shorter than that if she worked with anyone in his staff, not 5 or 6 or whatever. As in she hasn't even glanced at his helmet in six weeks? (shakes head in confusion) So, I tried to make the scene that I wrote to try to be in context with the timeline, but I'm not overly crazy with the timeline.