Work Text:
Remote
by Brittany "Thespis" Frederick
When I laid eyes on that body, I thought of Liz.
I've only found a body in the trunk of a car once before, after the attack on the Hotel Los Angeles, three years ago. It was her first major field assignment outside of technology; she was my executive officer. She was with me when I popped the trunk with
the remote and found the mangled remains of one of L.A.'s citizens.
She took my hand and I held hers tight. I'd forgotten she hadn't seen that kind of stuff except in video feed and information transfers. But she's never wanted to be seen as weak, even by me. She still thinks she has to prove herself; to whom, I don't know.
We're still together three years later, and as I drive I can picture what she's doing. She's memorable that way. She's at the immaculate workstation she keeps on the floor; technically as Chief of Technology she's entitled to an office, but she likes to be in the trenches with the troops. She's got a stack of new information for me and she's typing away trying to find more, typing one-handed while in the other she tosses that damned sphere up and down, like an air traffic controller working a quiet sector.
Problem is, this sector's far from quiet.
All these things on my mind and driving along, the thing that nags me is what to say to Liz when I walk back in the door. Not what to say to Nina or Jamey, but Liz. She's harder to talk to, because we tell each other nothing but the full and complete truth. If I want the answer honest, impartial and direct, I go to Liz. Why not Nina? I can go to Nina, but despite all Nina and I have been through, Liz and I have struck some kind of ... deeper connection.
Almost unconsciously, I dial her cell phone. If my mind's drawn to brooding about Liz, it's usually a sign.
"CTU, Rycoff."
"It's me."
"Hey, hotshot." There's relief in her voice she tries to mask, even from me. "What do you need?" When I don't answer right away, she says my name with the fear of God.
"I found another body in a trunk tonight. Just a few minutes ago."
She's silent for a heartbeat, and I know she's remembering and I wish I were there for her. "What can I do, Jack?"
"I'm bringing it in for Tanaka to check, but that's not what I need you for. I need you to work with Jamey. She has all the information, she'll get you started."
"She has - why didn't I know about this?"
"Long story, Liz. I'll take you out for coffee sometime and explain it. Right now, I need you to trust me."
"You never had to ask." Pause. "Stay safe, Jack."
"Yeah. Liz?"
"Yeah."
"Thanks."
She hangs up without another word, and so do I. She will call me on not including her on this in the first place, but Mason said Jamey's name, not hers. Does that mean I'm taking a big risk letting Liz in? Yes, but look at what happened to Nina. And I trust Liz just as much as I trust Nina. I drive a little faster. Teri's going insane, understandably so, and between themselves, Liz and Nina will be fine - but I want to get back in the game as soon as possible.
*****
The phone call doesn't help. I wonder how she'll take what I just said. Shield, or sword? Action or reaction? Liz, as complicated as she is, can be a hard woman to read. But we've come a long way together and though I don't know exactly what she might be doing, doubt in no way figures into the equation.
Take, for example, when I first met her. It was when CTU was just an idea, when we were both assigned to the same recon mission, her serving as tech officer to my field op. We were introduced by the administrator, and her handshake was firm, with eye contact. I read her first thought directed at me, the one that said she'd do her best. Trying to prove herself to a guy she had just met.
"Pleasure to meet you," I said.
"Likewise," she said with a small smile, "Shall we get started?"
She always speaks with authority, and I got the hint from the start that she is definitely efficient. That mission changed the way I looked at things, simply because I was stuck with her in a van waiting for someone to show up for three hours. I remember halfway through that glancing at her, buried in technical data, and wondering how she completely defied everything I'd ever known about agents, technical officers, and women.
"Anything?"
"Not yet. For a first recon, it's passable."
I glanced sideways, "How'd you know this was my
first?"
"Because the ones who have done this before usually don't ask me anything." Then she smiled, "Don't worry, it's only my fourth. I'll try not to have anything blow up in your face."
I smirked, too. "I appreciate that."
That's how the whole thing started, from there to the Hotel Los Angeles to today. That's how I knew she was right for the job of Technology Chief. She can find the answer before you ever ask the question. And she's stood by me for as long as I can remember. Including as my entire world collapsed when my marriage fractured. She was always true. She was standing in
the doorway. It made that Mick Jagger song title sound like an inside joke.
"You could have picked better moments," I told her when I'd finally gotten through my latest bout of self-hatred, sitting at my desk wishing somebody would hit me with a two-by-four.
"I've never been lucky, only good, Jack," she said, but there wasn't any humor in it as she closed my office door and pulled up a spare chair. "You'll make it through this."
"Right," I said bitterly, "when they'd both like to see me dead."
"That's not true and you know that," she said, her voice taking on the edge it always gets when she knows she's right and I'm wrong and I'm also stubborn about being wrong. "Everyone has problems, Jack. When I was Kim's age, both my parents were dead." I blinked. It was no secret, that personal tragedy of hers, but it was rarely spoken of. And yet she did so with levity.
"And I had to raise my brother and sister on my own in a world I wasn't ready for. So there are rough times. But pull yourself together and deal with it. If you need someone, anything from someone, you come to me. But don't ask me to let you drown yourself in self-pity, because when you go down, they go down with you."
We stared at each other for a moment. Then I told her everything. Again. And sure enough, we pulled through it - she was even there when I moved back in, helping me put everything back in order. Now, of course, I feel everything we - me, Liz, Teri, Kim, even Nina - worked for slipping back through my fingers. At moments, I'm not a very positive thinker.
END