Shelter, Part 5
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"Chloe?”
"Hm?”
"I have to get up.”
"Oh, sorry.” Still half asleep, Chloe struggled upright, and Jack eased his way out of the bed next to her. As soon as the bathroom door had shut behind him, Chloe's mother came out of the kitchen and stood in the hall just outside the bedroom.
"How's Frank doing?” she asked.
"He's getting better,” Chloe said.
"I knew that chicken soup would help.” Her mother beamed, then held out a neatly folded pile of blue material. "I've found a sweatsuit that your father used to wear. It's old, but it's clean. Frank can wear it while we wash his other clothes.”
"All right, I'll give it to him.” Chloe stood up and took the clothing, not missing her mother's glance towards the towels and shower soap that were still on the dresser. "And I know he stinks, so I'll tell him again to take a shower.”
She decided to wait, however, until she had had the chance to use the bathroom. When she came back into the bedroom, Jack had retrieved his jacket and bag, and was unpacking the antibiotics, placing everything neatly back in the drawer.
"Where'd you put the gun?” Jack asked quietly.
"Under the chair by the desk,” Chloe told him. Since she was closer, she reached down and picked it up, but Jack was there almost immediately to take it from her.
"If you shoot me in the leg, I won't be able to shower,” he pointed out.
"I wasn't going to,” Chloe said. "Jeeze. But speaking of water, my mom said you can wear that while we wash your clothes.”
"Thanks.” Jack looked over at the sweatsuit, then indicated his pullover. "Could you help me out here?”
Chloe helped him strip down to the waist, and was pleased to notice that his movements weren't as tentative as they'd been before. "Should I check your wound? Just so you know whether we have to, you know, amputate or not.”
"Yeah,” said Jack with the hint of a smile. "If you have to amputate, I definitely want to know.”
Carefully peeling away the adhesive tape and the gauze, Chloe peered at the wound. There was still some swelling and redness, but it had definitely decreased in comparison to the last time she'd seen it. "Well, I'm not a doctor, but I think it's looking better. I'll put another bandage on it when you get out.”
"Good.” Jack started to unzip his pants.
After he'd wrapped up in one of the towels and disappeared into the shower, Chloe gathered up his smelly clothes, then took them downstairs and stuffed them into the washing machine.
When she came up from the basement, her father was in the kitchen, standing at the stove. "Hey, Chloe, you want some waffles with butter and syrup?”
"Yeah,” she replied.
"Me, too,” he said, coming to the table. "Why don't you make some?”
Chloe scowled at him, and her mother, who was measuring flour into the food processor, asked, "Didn't I make oatmeal already?”
"I didn't see any,” her father said, and Chloe also noted the absence of any pots on the stove.
"Oh, dear, don't tell me I forgot!”
"It's okay, mom, I'll make waffles,” Chloe said.
"Could you?” her mother asked. "Then I'd have the chance to put a few things in the washer.”
"I've just put Frank's clothes in,” Chloe told her, pulling out the waffle iron and plugging it in.
"I'll put them in the hamper, then. Don't let me forget to change the wash when it's time.”
Chloe found the recipe and began to assemble her ingredients. She'd just finished pouring the batter for the last waffle when she heard the bathroom door open, and then the bedroom door. Good timing, she thought to herself. As soon as the waffle was finished, she lifted it off, juggling it in her hands and taking small bites as she walked down the hall.
"Brrr,” Chloe cried out involuntarily as she entered the bedroom. A new pattern of sheets and blankets met her eye immediately and gave her a clue to what had happened; her mother had obviously opened the window in an attempt to fumigate the room while changing the bedding.
"Yeah,” Jack said, coming away from the window, one hand still holding the towel around his waist.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know my mother was going to do that,” she told him.
"I don't blame her,” Jack said.
"Well, let me get that bandage on you, and then you can get dressed and get warm,” Chloe said. "Do you want me to put hydrogen peroxide on it again?”
"Once was enough,” Jack said. While Chloe got out the bandages, Jack slipped into the sweat pants, then sat down on the bed and presented his back to her.
"It's bleeding again, a little bit.” Chloe dabbed at the bullet hole with one square of gauze, then took a second one to shelter the wound with. "There.”
She helped Jack pull on the hooded blue sweat jacket, and then he turned around to face her. "Thanks.”
"Don't thank me now, you haven't had your shot yet.”
"I've still got two hours before I need the next one,” Jack said.
"You gave yourself one in the night?” Chloe asked, reckoning back six hours and feeling strangely disappointed.
"I didn't want to wake you,” he said. He reached forward and pulled a strand of Chloe's hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear and letting his hand linger on her neck. "But I'm glad I did.”
+++++
"Have you already made the rice pudding, mom?” Chloe asked as soon as supper was over.
"No,” Chloe's mother said with a sigh. "I thought maybe we should wait until to-morrow, when Irene and the boys can be here.”
Irene was Chloe's sister, and she had called up just after noon with the bad news that one of her sons had tried a kamikaze maneuver on the stairs and possibly broken his collarbone. Instead of driving from Detroit to Kalamazoo, Irene's family had been doomed to spend the afternoon of Christmas Eve in the emergency room, and were currently planning to try the journey again the next morning.
"No,” Chloe said firmly. Ever since she'd heard about her sister's delay, a plan for that rice pudding had been forming in her mind, and she wasn't going to have it foiled now. "It's Christmas Eve, mom. Rice pudding is our Christmas Eve tradition.”
"We've already put off our Christmas feast, and I'm turning into a grinch without my roast beast,” her father said, laughing at his own rhyme. "Come on, Sue, make my heart grow three sizes to-day, or at least my wallet, and let's have the rice pudding.”
Chloe's mother sighed tiredly, and Chloe took her chance. "I'll make it,” she volunteered, "and while it's cooking, we can watch The Grinch. The real Grinch.”
"Thank you, Chloe,” her mother said, giving in gracefully. Chloe stood up, reaching for the plates to take with her into the kitchen, and Jack stood up as well. "I can help with the dishes.”
Chloe scowled, and poked at him with a fork.
"You're sick, remember?” she told him. "And you're a guest, so sit down and suffer!”
He sat down again slowly, and Chloe turned to her father. "Dad, tell him how the rice pudding works.”
When she'd finished bringing the rice to a boil, and had placed all the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, Chloe came back into the living room. The Grinch Who Stole Christmas had become another of their Christmas Eve traditions shortly after the invention of the video recorder, and she slid the now-ancient cassette into the machine.
"Did you ever watch this with your family, Frank?” Chloe's mother asked as it began.
Jack hesitated, then shook his head. "I watched it when I was a kid, but I don't think I've seen it since then.”
"Quiet, here comes my favourite part,” Chloe's father said.
"Dad, don't sing,” Chloe warned him.
"Hey, didn't you tell our guest he had to sit here and suffer?” Chloe's dad began to sing along, making Chloe cringe, then stopped after a few bars. "Okay, he's suffered enough.”
"Maybe CTU could hire your father for interrogations?” Chloe's mother asked in a very sweet tone of voice, and to Chloe's absolute shock, Jack burst out laughing. Chloe turned her head and gaped at him. She'd never seen Jack laugh. She'd hardly ever seen him smile, but she'd never once considered the fact that he might actually be capable of laughing. If anything, she would have thought that laughter died whenever Jack Bauer was around.
Still smiling, Jack caught her eye, and Chloe felt herself smile back. Maybe her father's singing wasn't such a bad thing, after all.
The film ended, and eventually, the rice pudding was finished. Chloe put the finishing touches to it, then brought the bowl out to the dining room table.
"So, did my father tell you how this works?” Chloe asked as she slid into her seat.
"Yes,” Jack affirmed.
"All right. I'll dish up,” Chloe said. She carved out a large portion of pudding and used a spatula to scrape it cleanly off the serving spoon and into the dessert dish. When the last bit of pudding had been served, she made a show of mixing the dishes and handing them out at random to everybody. All the while, however, she was keeping her eye on a certain dish, one that had a tiny dark spot in the porcelain close to the rim, and that was the dish that she handed over to Jack.
"Let's start digging for gold,” her father said as he did every year, taking his spoon and plunging it in.
There was silence as everybody began to eat. In between bites, Chloe looked around the table, trying not to stare too openly at Jack. She couldn't help but notice that her parents were also checking on him at regular intervals.
It seemed to take ages before Jack finally raised his empty spoon to his mouth and carefully spit an almond out onto it.
"Frank's got it!” Chloe's father crowed.
"Twenty dollars for Frank,” Chloe said, joining in with her parents as they clapped. When she saw them exchange a significant look, she realized with a sinking feeling that they'd actually expected this particular outcome.
"Or a kiss from somebody at the table,” Chloe's father added.
"What?” Chloe exclaimed, stopping in the act of reaching for her purse.
"That's what I told you, right, Frank? Cash or kiss?” her father asked.
Jack nodded. "That's what you said.”
"Dad, what have you been telling him?” Chloe demanded. Her father smirked silently, and Chloe went on. "Whoever gets the almond in their rice pudding gets twenty dollars, that's the way it's always been. You can't go around changing tradition, just like that!”
"Yes, I can,” he replied. "Remember when we stopped giving little presents and started giving cash instead?”
"Well, yeah, but … that was different.”
"Present, cash or kiss, Chloe, it's still a prize,” her mother put in, her eyes twinkling as she looked over to Jack. Chloe's suspicions were confirmed; while she'd been in the kitchen, trying to manipulate the position of the almond, her parents had been in the dining room, setting up their own plan to trick her and Jack. She wondered briefly why they hadn't been recruited to work for the government.
"You guys are ganging up on me. This is really inappropriate.” Chloe wanted to scream that they were ruining all her plans, but she had to settle for a scowl instead. "All right, fine. Whatever.”
She dug in her purse, pulled out the fifty dollar bill she'd got from the money machine earlier that day, then turned to Jack and waved it enticingly. There was still hope that he would take it. "Sorry, I haven't got anything smaller. So … what's it going to be?”
She almost said his name, but remembered in time, and hastily added, "Frank?”
Jack was still for a very long moment, and then he put the almond carefully on the tablecloth. "I'll … consider my options and inform you later of my decision.”
Part 6
"Chloe?”
"Hm?”
"I have to get up.”
"Oh, sorry.” Still half asleep, Chloe struggled upright, and Jack eased his way out of the bed next to her. As soon as the bathroom door had shut behind him, Chloe's mother came out of the kitchen and stood in the hall just outside the bedroom.
"How's Frank doing?” she asked.
"He's getting better,” Chloe said.
"I knew that chicken soup would help.” Her mother beamed, then held out a neatly folded pile of blue material. "I've found a sweatsuit that your father used to wear. It's old, but it's clean. Frank can wear it while we wash his other clothes.”
"All right, I'll give it to him.” Chloe stood up and took the clothing, not missing her mother's glance towards the towels and shower soap that were still on the dresser. "And I know he stinks, so I'll tell him again to take a shower.”
She decided to wait, however, until she had had the chance to use the bathroom. When she came back into the bedroom, Jack had retrieved his jacket and bag, and was unpacking the antibiotics, placing everything neatly back in the drawer.
"Where'd you put the gun?” Jack asked quietly.
"Under the chair by the desk,” Chloe told him. Since she was closer, she reached down and picked it up, but Jack was there almost immediately to take it from her.
"If you shoot me in the leg, I won't be able to shower,” he pointed out.
"I wasn't going to,” Chloe said. "Jeeze. But speaking of water, my mom said you can wear that while we wash your clothes.”
"Thanks.” Jack looked over at the sweatsuit, then indicated his pullover. "Could you help me out here?”
Chloe helped him strip down to the waist, and was pleased to notice that his movements weren't as tentative as they'd been before. "Should I check your wound? Just so you know whether we have to, you know, amputate or not.”
"Yeah,” said Jack with the hint of a smile. "If you have to amputate, I definitely want to know.”
Carefully peeling away the adhesive tape and the gauze, Chloe peered at the wound. There was still some swelling and redness, but it had definitely decreased in comparison to the last time she'd seen it. "Well, I'm not a doctor, but I think it's looking better. I'll put another bandage on it when you get out.”
"Good.” Jack started to unzip his pants.
After he'd wrapped up in one of the towels and disappeared into the shower, Chloe gathered up his smelly clothes, then took them downstairs and stuffed them into the washing machine.
When she came up from the basement, her father was in the kitchen, standing at the stove. "Hey, Chloe, you want some waffles with butter and syrup?”
"Yeah,” she replied.
"Me, too,” he said, coming to the table. "Why don't you make some?”
Chloe scowled at him, and her mother, who was measuring flour into the food processor, asked, "Didn't I make oatmeal already?”
"I didn't see any,” her father said, and Chloe also noted the absence of any pots on the stove.
"Oh, dear, don't tell me I forgot!”
"It's okay, mom, I'll make waffles,” Chloe said.
"Could you?” her mother asked. "Then I'd have the chance to put a few things in the washer.”
"I've just put Frank's clothes in,” Chloe told her, pulling out the waffle iron and plugging it in.
"I'll put them in the hamper, then. Don't let me forget to change the wash when it's time.”
Chloe found the recipe and began to assemble her ingredients. She'd just finished pouring the batter for the last waffle when she heard the bathroom door open, and then the bedroom door. Good timing, she thought to herself. As soon as the waffle was finished, she lifted it off, juggling it in her hands and taking small bites as she walked down the hall.
"Brrr,” Chloe cried out involuntarily as she entered the bedroom. A new pattern of sheets and blankets met her eye immediately and gave her a clue to what had happened; her mother had obviously opened the window in an attempt to fumigate the room while changing the bedding.
"Yeah,” Jack said, coming away from the window, one hand still holding the towel around his waist.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know my mother was going to do that,” she told him.
"I don't blame her,” Jack said.
"Well, let me get that bandage on you, and then you can get dressed and get warm,” Chloe said. "Do you want me to put hydrogen peroxide on it again?”
"Once was enough,” Jack said. While Chloe got out the bandages, Jack slipped into the sweat pants, then sat down on the bed and presented his back to her.
"It's bleeding again, a little bit.” Chloe dabbed at the bullet hole with one square of gauze, then took a second one to shelter the wound with. "There.”
She helped Jack pull on the hooded blue sweat jacket, and then he turned around to face her. "Thanks.”
"Don't thank me now, you haven't had your shot yet.”
"I've still got two hours before I need the next one,” Jack said.
"You gave yourself one in the night?” Chloe asked, reckoning back six hours and feeling strangely disappointed.
"I didn't want to wake you,” he said. He reached forward and pulled a strand of Chloe's hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear and letting his hand linger on her neck. "But I'm glad I did.”
+++++
"Have you already made the rice pudding, mom?” Chloe asked as soon as supper was over.
"No,” Chloe's mother said with a sigh. "I thought maybe we should wait until to-morrow, when Irene and the boys can be here.”
Irene was Chloe's sister, and she had called up just after noon with the bad news that one of her sons had tried a kamikaze maneuver on the stairs and possibly broken his collarbone. Instead of driving from Detroit to Kalamazoo, Irene's family had been doomed to spend the afternoon of Christmas Eve in the emergency room, and were currently planning to try the journey again the next morning.
"No,” Chloe said firmly. Ever since she'd heard about her sister's delay, a plan for that rice pudding had been forming in her mind, and she wasn't going to have it foiled now. "It's Christmas Eve, mom. Rice pudding is our Christmas Eve tradition.”
"We've already put off our Christmas feast, and I'm turning into a grinch without my roast beast,” her father said, laughing at his own rhyme. "Come on, Sue, make my heart grow three sizes to-day, or at least my wallet, and let's have the rice pudding.”
Chloe's mother sighed tiredly, and Chloe took her chance. "I'll make it,” she volunteered, "and while it's cooking, we can watch The Grinch. The real Grinch.”
"Thank you, Chloe,” her mother said, giving in gracefully. Chloe stood up, reaching for the plates to take with her into the kitchen, and Jack stood up as well. "I can help with the dishes.”
Chloe scowled, and poked at him with a fork.
"You're sick, remember?” she told him. "And you're a guest, so sit down and suffer!”
He sat down again slowly, and Chloe turned to her father. "Dad, tell him how the rice pudding works.”
When she'd finished bringing the rice to a boil, and had placed all the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, Chloe came back into the living room. The Grinch Who Stole Christmas had become another of their Christmas Eve traditions shortly after the invention of the video recorder, and she slid the now-ancient cassette into the machine.
"Did you ever watch this with your family, Frank?” Chloe's mother asked as it began.
Jack hesitated, then shook his head. "I watched it when I was a kid, but I don't think I've seen it since then.”
"Quiet, here comes my favourite part,” Chloe's father said.
"Dad, don't sing,” Chloe warned him.
"Hey, didn't you tell our guest he had to sit here and suffer?” Chloe's dad began to sing along, making Chloe cringe, then stopped after a few bars. "Okay, he's suffered enough.”
"Maybe CTU could hire your father for interrogations?” Chloe's mother asked in a very sweet tone of voice, and to Chloe's absolute shock, Jack burst out laughing. Chloe turned her head and gaped at him. She'd never seen Jack laugh. She'd hardly ever seen him smile, but she'd never once considered the fact that he might actually be capable of laughing. If anything, she would have thought that laughter died whenever Jack Bauer was around.
Still smiling, Jack caught her eye, and Chloe felt herself smile back. Maybe her father's singing wasn't such a bad thing, after all.
The film ended, and eventually, the rice pudding was finished. Chloe put the finishing touches to it, then brought the bowl out to the dining room table.
"So, did my father tell you how this works?” Chloe asked as she slid into her seat.
"Yes,” Jack affirmed.
"All right. I'll dish up,” Chloe said. She carved out a large portion of pudding and used a spatula to scrape it cleanly off the serving spoon and into the dessert dish. When the last bit of pudding had been served, she made a show of mixing the dishes and handing them out at random to everybody. All the while, however, she was keeping her eye on a certain dish, one that had a tiny dark spot in the porcelain close to the rim, and that was the dish that she handed over to Jack.
"Let's start digging for gold,” her father said as he did every year, taking his spoon and plunging it in.
There was silence as everybody began to eat. In between bites, Chloe looked around the table, trying not to stare too openly at Jack. She couldn't help but notice that her parents were also checking on him at regular intervals.
It seemed to take ages before Jack finally raised his empty spoon to his mouth and carefully spit an almond out onto it.
"Frank's got it!” Chloe's father crowed.
"Twenty dollars for Frank,” Chloe said, joining in with her parents as they clapped. When she saw them exchange a significant look, she realized with a sinking feeling that they'd actually expected this particular outcome.
"Or a kiss from somebody at the table,” Chloe's father added.
"What?” Chloe exclaimed, stopping in the act of reaching for her purse.
"That's what I told you, right, Frank? Cash or kiss?” her father asked.
Jack nodded. "That's what you said.”
"Dad, what have you been telling him?” Chloe demanded. Her father smirked silently, and Chloe went on. "Whoever gets the almond in their rice pudding gets twenty dollars, that's the way it's always been. You can't go around changing tradition, just like that!”
"Yes, I can,” he replied. "Remember when we stopped giving little presents and started giving cash instead?”
"Well, yeah, but … that was different.”
"Present, cash or kiss, Chloe, it's still a prize,” her mother put in, her eyes twinkling as she looked over to Jack. Chloe's suspicions were confirmed; while she'd been in the kitchen, trying to manipulate the position of the almond, her parents had been in the dining room, setting up their own plan to trick her and Jack. She wondered briefly why they hadn't been recruited to work for the government.
"You guys are ganging up on me. This is really inappropriate.” Chloe wanted to scream that they were ruining all her plans, but she had to settle for a scowl instead. "All right, fine. Whatever.”
She dug in her purse, pulled out the fifty dollar bill she'd got from the money machine earlier that day, then turned to Jack and waved it enticingly. There was still hope that he would take it. "Sorry, I haven't got anything smaller. So … what's it going to be?”
She almost said his name, but remembered in time, and hastily added, "Frank?”
Jack was still for a very long moment, and then he put the almond carefully on the tablecloth. "I'll … consider my options and inform you later of my decision.”
Part 6