The Perfect Weapon Epilogue 1 part 8

[camillecarelli]

“You told her then?” Vaughn said, deciding to ignore the handling taunt. Sometimes it was best to ignore Jack. But... Wait. The timing of Jack’s discussion with Sydney meant that Sydney knew the “Tell me” technique last night when he tried... Oh. Sqwick. Definite sqwick. That might take a while to overcome. Perhaps that had been a bad idea. But he had never imagined that Jack would tell Sydney, that would have had to been an extremely uncomfortable conversation. “Why did you tell her?”

“Because I knew you knew,” Jack explained. Then nodding in Kendall’s direction, he added, “That Kendall - the bald blabbermouth that he is -”

“Hey!” Kendall exclaimed, “You repressed, no doubt frustrated---”

“Might I inquire as to the last time a woman you weren’t paying allowed you to touch more than her hand as she gave you change for your Slushie at the Seven-Eleven?” Jack quipped. “Oh, wait, excuse me, it’s Vaughn who likes Slushies. You, Kendall, have a predilection for buying dirty magazines at the newsstand on---”

“How did you know---” Kendall began, then clamped his lips shut.

Jack raised an eyebrow. Then continued, “Anyway, I knew Kendall probably told you. And I figured you’d probably try and use it for leverage some day---”

“Leverage can be a good thing,” Marshall noted.

“Marshall... Not now,” Jack warned.

Marshall mumbled, looking thoughtful. “By the way, Mr. Bristow, Jack, can I talk to you later?”
“About what?” Jack snarled, glaring at Vaughn. “I believe Barbie Boy here considers himself quite the expert, doesn’t he?”

###

As the three women stood in the hallway outside the cafeteria, Carrie asked, “Hey, Syd did you or Nia try out that new hair gel Marshall developed on Hot Look Ken yet?”

“The real one or the doll?” Sydney asked, smiling.

“How can you tell the difference?” Susan asked laughing. “Oh, wait, that’s right. Ken may be twelve inches, but Vaughn’s pretty cute, a real doll....”

“Oooh, Suse, that was so bad,” Sydney said, rolling her eyes. “And I can tell the difference because all of Vaughn’s parts are fully functional.” Then she giggled, “Well, but not last night, not after he heard me making Barbie talk and had to spend the night at my father’s. I’m thinking little Ken was... disabled for the night.”

###

“But he said it didn’t work quite the way---” Marshall commented, staring at Vaughn.

“Shut up!” Vaughn growled. “Jack doesn’t need to hear---”

“No. I don’t.” Not now, anyway, they could circle back to that later, Jack thought. “But I told Sydney... guess why?”

“End run,” Vaughn groaned. Everyone was right, he did suck at anticipating outcomes.

“Yes. But as it transpires, my... discomfort was completely unnecessary. Long ago, Syd had listened to me - it boggles the mind, that someone actually listened to me - and had done some background research of her own. Given that she had an adequate security clearance, she was able to walk into the Archives and read that... manual for herself.” Jack shrugged.

“I knew it!” Marshall exclaimed.

“Of course, you did, Marshall. It’s basic logic, but good job,” Jack complimented him and Marshall grinned happily. Jack Bristow had just complimented him.

“But she never mentioned it,” Vaughn protested.

“Why would she?” Jack shrugged. Then said slowly and clearly, “Do you want to have a conversation with her about your mother’s sex life?”

“My mother doesn’t have a sex life!” Vaughn protested. Then winced. Why was Jack so good at keeping him off balance? “She’s my mother! She doesn’t---”

“No. I’m sure she doesn’t. But there’s no need to get so...agitated, Michael,” Jack said in a placating tone. “After all, this is just a friendly little game with a friendly little wager of my knives against your promise. Isn’t it? ”

“Of course,” Vaughn agreed, and pulled his tie away from his neck. Yeah, this was a friendly little game and ....that Ebola virus he’d had was just a little papercut.
“Ah, of course. Just as this lunch was a friendly little interoffice get together? To which Judy just happened to be invited? Or, you tell me, am I mistaken? That was no coincidence, of course. You had a...” Jack paused and said in a deep voice. “A plan.”

###

“Hey, you guys,” Carrie began, “Want to fill me in on the origins of the game plan today?”

“Oh, sorry, you don’t know,” Susan said. “Vaughn and I for a long time, a long time, had this feeling about the two of them. It started when I enlisted Vaughn’s help to make sure that Jack made his appointments, back when he was in therapy. And we got to talking one day and I made a comment about how Jack and Judy argued and laughed and... how I thought it was a shame that they had a therapeutic relationship especially after her reaction to this day-umm... Anyway, I could go on forever, but it all came down to instinct. Just.. an instinct that the two of them seemed right together.”

“And then it was just a matter of waiting until the time was right?” Sydney added.

“Yes,” Susan nodded. “Once Vaughn got that info from Zamir, we knew we were waiting for a gift of some kind. And then those flowers yesterday could not have been more...oh, sorry, Syd,” Susan mumbled. “Well, the game had to go into play at that point. Everything, everyone was ready for the game.”

“Well, as my father always says, the timing has to be precise,” Sydney said smiling. “Good job, you and Vaughn, I have to say, although...” She smiled again, to herself, thinking that Judy and her father could have probably handled this themselves, but it would be a good story to tell their children. And Vaughn, once he discovered that he had been right and, she thought, may have even helped move up the time table, would have a checkmark in the win column over which to gloat. Once that is, her father decided to take pity on him, and admit the truth.

“Syd,” Susan asked, “What do you think? We were right, weren’t we? Judy and Jack were....being basically unreadable, although that bit with the spoons makes me think... But you know your father.”

“I...” Sydney stalled. Then she decided that if Susan decided to investigate on her own, it would be far worse. As long as she kept it a secret from Vaughn...For a little while. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Yes,” both Susan and Carrie whispered.

“You were right,” Sydney admitted. “I saw the chemistry too--”

“Do you think the guys noticed?” Carrie asked, then laughed when both Susan and Sydney snorted in derision. “But, not even the way Judy kept touching Jack’s hand?” Carrie asked. “And he kept touching her shoulder?”

“But only for a while, really,” Susan said frowning. “Then I couldn’t....see....”

“That’s because... I think they were kinda holding hands under the table,” Sydney whispered, looking left and right.

“Oooh, that’s so sweet,” Carrie said softly.

“I know!” Sydney said. She frowned and rubbed her forehead suddenly. “Sweet...”

Susan put her hand on Sydney’s arm and asked, “Are you okay? You look pale. Are you having a memory?”

“I’m just remembering my... mother teasing my father, calling him sweet,” Sydney said, then shook her head, remembering too how her father had described his mother as sweet, too sweet. She commented aloud, “It’s... interesting isn’t it...”

“That’s what Judy always says about Jack, that he’s interesting,” Susan offered when Sydney stopped talking.

“I think,” Carrie offered, “From what I saw today, that they both find each other fascinating. That they’ll never run out of things to talk about. They find each other’s minds interesting, like I find Marshall’s mind--”

“Yes. My dad is interesting, that....duality alone is....” Sydney nodded. “He can be so... loving and caring at home, but in the field.... You do not want to be the opposition.”

“Like you in the field?” Carrie asked. “I’ve heard stories....”

Sydney nodded slowly. “Yes.” Then she giggled. “I wonder right now if Vaughn is starting to feel like he’s my dad’s opposition? I wonder how many wrinkles are on his forehead.”

###

“No. I mean, yes.” Vaughn shuddered, still trying to regroup from that image of his mother... No, no. His mother and father had had sex one time each for each child, in the dark and no one had enjoyed it. Period. He grimaced and then felt his forehead wrinkle. Geez, there were probably twenty wrinkles up there. He caught Jack smirking at it and knew he had better smooth it out too. That’s it, forehead, just smooth out, smooth out. He shook his head and continued, “I think, we think--”

“We?” Jack asked casually, tapping his fingers on the table top. This was taking too long. He had places to go, people to meet, notes to read, future sons-in-law to intimidate. A busy day indeed.

“Susan and I. And... Sydney.” Vaughn paused and waited for a response. “Well, Sydney’s your own fault. If you hadn’t ticked her off this morning....” Vaughn trailed off as Jack smiled. He rolled his eyes. Sydney would be so ticked when she realized how her father had played her. Or maybe she wouldn’t. Who knows with those two? There were things they thought were funny that he just did not understand, like Martha Stewart or Jane Austen. Vaughn cleared his throat and continued, deciding he might as well go for broke. Dead was dead, after all. “We think that Judy is the perfect match, you’re just too blind to see it.”

“We are actually having a conversation about perfect matches, for me, in the Agency cafeteria? Oh, how cute,” Jack said snidely. Looking around the table, he said in a falsetto voice, “Let me pull out my darling new pink phone and call the bridge club and let them know the happy news. And then, ladies, I do believe that we should adjourn to the pink bathroom down the hall where we can fluff our hair, try out new lipstick shades and Weiss can tell me where he bought that cunning little purse last week.”

Weiss choked and Will bit his lip to keep from laughing aloud. Dixon didn’t bother to hide his amusement.

“Or perhaps...” Jack started again, “Weiss carries a pencil in that purse and I can demonstrate to you, Vaughn, the correct way to insert a pencil in one’s eye when one is - foolishly - contemplating meddling in someone else’s life.”

“I have a pencil, Jack,” Marshall exclaimed and pulled a pencil out of his pocket protector and tossed it to Jack, who caught it out of the air and began tapping it hard against the table.. “See men don’t need purses, these pocket protectors....” He trailed off watching the pencil swing more and more rapidly, then swallowed and said, “Sorry, thought we were talking about....writing instruments, not ... potential instruments of torture.”

“Easy mistake,” Jack said conversationally. “After all, a pencil can serve both functions.”

“Very funny, Jack---” Vaughn said rolling his eyes.

“Vaughn, you’re the only one who thinks this is very funny,” Weiss pointed out. “The rest of us are just here, against our will, I might add, while we wait for you to just admit what you wanted.”

“I wanted...” Vaughn began hesitantly, then paused, knowing, knowing he was right. His instincts still told him he was right. And he knew that if he would just pay attention, Jack would not be able to misdirect him. He continued firmly, “Jack, I just want you to think about dating---”

“I’ve been on dates,” Jack interrupted to remind him. “You know that - you said Sydney---”

“Very few dates,” Vaughn said accusingly. “You said it was because you didn’t know what you wanted, but I think it was subconsciously you knew exactly what you wanted. Ju---”

Damn Vaughn, He had it figured out, Jack thought wryly. “We’ve had this conversation on a previous occasion, Michael. And I have dated these perfectly nice women and --”

“Well, there’s your problem, Jack,” Kendall said. “Nice? C’mon.”

Vaughn sighed with relief. Someone else was jumping into the fray. But, wait.. Kendall? Oh no.

“There’s my problem?” Jack asked calmly. Too calmly, Vaughn wondered. “That I’ve dated perfectly nice--”

“Jack,” Vaughn said quietly, “I hate to tell you something---”

“Oh, you’re loving telling me something,” Jack noted, smiling. Vaughn had truly excelled at this. It was almost... unsporting of him to torment the boy this way. Oh well, this was probably one of the last time he would play one of these games for his small pleasures now that... He sighed, looking at a spoon sticking out of the pile of utensils in the middle of the table. “Loving it,” he said again, then looked up. Ooops, that had been close. He really needed to get out of here.

“Well, true,” Vaughn smiled. “But the point is that I don’t think you really want or need nice in a woman.”

“Is that so? You presume to know what I need? When you have trouble yourself getting to the point?” Jack asked, tapping that spoon. Vaughn sighed. Which was worse, that spoon or a pencil?

Kendall got up and sat down again next to Dixon. “This is better than watching a ball game.”

“Oh, infinitely better,” Dixon agreed. “Maybe the women have more interesting conversations in the bathroom than men do. Maybe that’s why they are always going in there. To get away from our boring discussions?”

###

“So, ladies, what do you think they’re talking about in there all this time?” Susan asked as the three women loitered in the hallway..
Carrie held up two fingers and commented, “I’m thinking...with most men there are only two choices.”

“Sports,” Susan said with disgust.

“Or sex,” Carrie added. Which given Marshall’s ability to focus, might not be too far off the mark.

“Welll,” Susan noted, with a smile, “Jack’s in there with them, maybe he’s doing a reading from his dissertation to educate the troops.” They all giggled, except for Sydney that was. “Oops, sorry, Syd. I forgot how freaked out you got last night---”

“So...” Sydney began, desperate to change the subject, “You seemed to like Weiss.”

Susan smiled. “I did! He was funny and sweet. Likes dogs and baked goods. And he is, I think, trainable.”

“Susan! Men are not dogs,” Carrie said, even as she contemplated the effects of certain positive reinforcements last night. Hmm. Maybe they were that simple?

Susan shrugged, “It’s easier if you think about them that way.”

###

“And so,” Jack began, “You thought the cards were ... some kind of stimulus-response Pavlovian test for me? I see cards, I relax?”

“Well, you said it, not me,” Vaughn shrugged. “But I thought it would be a low-pressure, low-stress way for you to...see Judy in a different light. Sydney told me that your first date with Laura was at a group card party and I extrapolated that maybe you might find it easier to um, be yourself, in a group, engaging in an activity you find both fun and relaxing, that it might tap into your... younger self. Your real self. And I was right,” Vaughn said smugly, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Were you?”

“Yes,” Vaughn nodded. “You were talking, laughing, having a good time. Although I noted that you spent most of your time talking to Judy. She’s your friend, which is a good place to start, because you already trust her---”

Holy s***, Jack thought, Vaughn had this all tied up in an nice little bundle. Maybe with a little more training and focus, Vaughn might want to consider going into psy ops.

“And you find her easy to talk to. You’re always talking to her,” Vaughn added, knowing he was beginning to babble, but with that blank face Jack was wearing.... C’mon, say something!

Jack shrugged, then commented, “Ah, but why wouldn’t I talk to her? After all, according to you, Judy is my best friend. We have a lot in common. Like that research on rats.” Jack shrugged again. “So, we talk a lot.”

“Jack, you’re not the most talkative guy---”

“Sure I am. With my friends. Then. And... now again.” Jack thought and then added, “Take Zamir, for example, although I admit he talks so much himself that it’s hard to get in a word. But.. he’s my friend too. Should I date him?”
“Well, no,” Vaughn said in exasperation. Then he smiled, “Although he does have an advantage that Judy does not. Or rather she has a disadvantage--”

“In case I need to make this perfectly clear to you, Vaughn,” Jack said dryly, “I like women.”

“Yes, you do, don’t you?” Dixon asked, looking at Jack curiously. “You like talking to them....”

“Oh, wait,” Kendall muttered. “That’s one reason why women like him...He talks, actually talks to them. Which boggles the mind.”

“Well, it’s not just the hair,” Vaughn quipped, rolling his eyes as Jack picked up a spoon and began tapping it on the table. First a pencil, now a spoon? “What is your secret, Jack?” Maybe he had missed some nuance in that manual...

Jack smiled as he looked at the spoon. Then sighing, he said merely, “Attention to detail and improvisational abilities are more important than hair. Luckily for you, Kendall. There’s hope even for you.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Jack,” Weiss commented. “You don’t notice any bald Kens in the Barbie aisle, now do you? Or, Michael, should I be asking you that question, since I hear Syd dragged you there the other day? Ouch!” Weiss exclaimed as Vaughn threw a stray spoon at him.

###

“Hey, Susan?” Carrie asked, “What did you mean by commenting on the spoon business before?”

“Oh...” Susan demurred, knowing she had witnessed something private. “Nothing really. I was just watching Judy and Jack interact and I thought I saw some chemistry. Actually, I know I did. Just like I know Vaughn and I were right about the two of them.”

“Oh, I know, but there’s something that tells me we were just missing the signs. I saw it, didn’t you?” Sydney asked, grinning. This was a good game.

“What, Syd?” Susan asked.

“I, too, thought they might make a good match, a perfect match actually once I thougtht about it. And sure, part of it was instinct, but part of it was paying attention. Dad always says one reason why Judy is such a brilliant therapist and a good friend to have is because she pays attention. And we all noticed that Dad always touches her shoulder, but....she always is touching his hand, always touching his hand...”

“OH!” Carrie exclaimed. “I get it.”

“What?” Susan asked, stepping closer, making the circle smaller.

“I think we just figured it out,” Sydney whispered, “Judy isn’t a hair person. She’s into hands.”

“Oh!” Susan exclaimed. “Well....”

“I’d still pick the hair, myself,” Carrie said.

“True. Maybe she’s just...playing dumb about that because we were pushing too hard on the hair....” Susan began then stopped.
“Or maybe....” Sydney said, trying to lead them down the path.

“Maybe she and Jack are just playing dumb to throw us all off of the scent,” Carrie said triumphantly.

“Ooooh, how evil,” Susan said. “I appreciate it.”

“Vaughn can’t know. Not yet,” Sydney warned. Susan gave her a look and Sydney looked at her with her best innocent face.

“Syd, what is your father doing?” Susan asked suspiciously.

“Oh,” Sydney shrugged. “He’s just having a little fun at Vaughn’s expense. It won’t hurt. Any more than what Judy might do to you will hurt.” Susan groaned.

“So, maybe that means she does like his hair?” Carrie asked. “I mean, she’s gotta appreciate the hair.”

Sydney nodded. “Well, she has to. Will must be wrong. What woman wouldn’t like that hair? It does look nice longer, doesn’t it?”

“Longer is always better,” Susan said with a straight face.

“You have to pay attention to what women want. And that does not include calling them chicklets, either, Kendall,” Jack pointed out, rolling his eyes. “I admit this hair business eludes me. But that’s my point. Women.... They are... more interesting than men, if you want to know my opinion. The way their minds work is the greatest mystery---”

“I said that! I said that!” Marshall called out. “I said that if Rambaldi were such a freakin’ genius he would have set his mind to unraveling the mystery that is woman.”

“Ah, but then that would take all the fun out of it,” Jack said with a grin.

“I agree,” Dixon said nodding.

Will spoke up, “But what is the disadvantage Judy has? I don’t see it. If she’s a good friend and you talk to her and there’s chemistry...mutual chemistry...” Vaughn’s head jerked up. Had Will seen that? Maybe he wasn’t wrong. He paid more attention this time as Will talked, “And if she’s attractive, then where’s the disadvantage---”

“Yes, Jack. What is Judy’s disadvantage?” Vaughn asked, tapping his fingers impatiently on the table.

Jack shrugged. How would Vaughn know about this blind spot? Who might have known? Wait... Zamir. Another blabbermouth. How had he, so closemouthed, ended up surrounded by people who could not keep their mouths shut? Life was so unfair.

When Jack said nothing, Vaughn pressed, “How would you describe Judy?”

“How would I describe Judy?” Jack parroted back, smiling.

“Don’t repeat my question. Answer it,” Vaughn snapped out, then swallowed hard.

Marshall interjected, “He meant, will you please answer his question? At your convenience, of course. No rush or anything. I mean, we’ve got no where to go, no where important. I mean, I do have some isometric issues or maybe I meant isosceles triangles to analyze on that latest Rambaldi document, or maybe..” he trailed off at the looks on everyone’s faces, “I should just take a trip to Iceland. That sound good. Nice and cool. Cool would be good. Because -- is it just me -- or is it quite warm in here?” Marshall asked, pulling his shirt collar away from his neck.

“Jack, can you answer the question before the peanut gallery here melts and turns into peanut butter?” Kendall asked, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes. “As much as the rest of us are enjoying this, Marshall and Weiss are looking a little green. And at some point today some actual work should occur---”

Jack interrupted him because no one, not even Vaughn, deserved to have to listen to Kendall. “Judy? How do I see Judy?” Well, he was clearly not going to admit that Vaughn had been right, that this lunch had forced, no, allowed him to see Judy in a different way. A destination to which he had been heading anyway, but... there was no point in wasting time, was there? Life was too short. But, Vaughn needed to suffer a little more. So.. “Hmm. Let’s see.... Judy? Tart, I guess is the first word that comes to mind.”

Yes, tart, he thought, like an explosion of sweetness and sting on the tongue all at once. The perfect combination. One you wanted to linger on the tongue. One he was dying to taste. Soon. He looked at his watch. When would this day be over? Oh, wait, he had made plans with Kendall and Dixon tonight. Well, he would reschedule. A smart man had to have his priorities straight and he was hoping tonight that Judy would appreciate his ability to keep certain things straight. He fought back a grin and reached out and grabbed a spoon and began twirling it in his fingers. Although, then again, there was no need to rush... Judy did like to savor and enjoy... he thought, remembering her rolling that dessert around on her tongue, the look of near ecstasy in her eyes as she.... So, yes, there was no need to rush.... taking one’s time had its advantages, too.

“Tart? That’s how you would describe her?” Vaughn asked, wondering what Jack was thinking. And he was thinking, Vaughn could tell. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Ah, s***, not Martha Stewart again.

Yes, tart. Like... lemonade, sometimes, Jack thought. Cool and refreshing. And he could use that. He didn’t feel... he paused as he realized that he had not felt cold, not in his personal life, for a long time now. Never with his family. Never with Judy. And then again, he thought suppressing a grin, Judy was not always cool. Not when she had a spoon and some chocolate and- He loosened his tie and opened his top button.

“Jack, are you paying any attention?” Weiss asked curiously.

“Must I?” Jack sighed. I was, he thought, enjoying my own thoughts. So very much.

“So the first word you would use to describe Judy would not be... blonde?” Vaughn flung out.

“Oh, you were asking about physical characteristics?” Jack asked, rolling his eyes. As if blonde was the first word to describe Judy’s physical appearance. Well, not any more. Thanks to Susan's little comment. He'd have to thank her too. But Judy? How would he describe her now that he truly saw her, or rather, his brain acknowledged what the rest of him saw? He would probably start with her eyes. So...warm and alive, alight from within was the better way to describe her eyes. Her. Would she glow when.... Or how about when she became angry during one of their ‘discussions’? The way sparks practically flew from her eyes. Hmm. Maybe... He smiled to himself, maybe that was why he liked to annoy her so much. He sighed and looked at his watch again. “We’re talking about looks? And here, foolish me,” Jack said sarcastically as he tapped his chest with the spoon. “I thought we were all mature enough to know that true beauty comes from within...”

“Oh, I know that. But do you? Or are you hung up on her hair color? Don’t you think she’s attractive?” Vaughn asked.

“Who? Me? Well, Kendall here called Judy beautiful when we were playing Screw Your Neighbor, so perhaps he was the one you should have been trying to set up with her. Not me. Since as you so helpfully pointed out, I never date blondes.”

Because, after all, he and Judy had moved beyond the initial dating stage long ago. This was going to be... interesting, being with someone who already knew you and your flaws - in his case, the entire legion of them - and still cared for you. You didn’t have to worry that she might find out the ‘truth’ and withdraw. Judy already knew the truth. And he knew her, all of her little ways, her tendency to ramble annoyingly when she told a story, her bossiness... which he was looking forward to experiencing on a different level and... It was like opening a box and finding another one within every time. Familiar, safe but exciting all at once. Everything. Oh, Vaughn was talking again.

“Never date blondes? Of all the ridiculous ideas....” Vaughn spluttered. Was Jack still hung up on that? Had they made no progress today? Damn it, he couldn’t quite tell. “I don’t see what the issue is. I mean what difference does it make if the woman is blonde -

“Do you really want, Vaughn, to get into a discussion about blondes you have dated?” Jack snarled, even as he wanted to laugh in triumph.

“Oh. No. Not really,” Vaughn mumbled and looked down. He slammed his hand against his leg. Great, Michael, a tactical error there, he groaned to himself.

“Mike, you’re skating on thin ice here,” Weiss hissed at him.

“Hey,” Vaughn said with bravado. “I’m considered a ruthless hockey player.”

“Yeah. And where do you think Jack perfected that elbow cut of his? I’m thinking Jack learned that on the ice and spent quite a bit of time in the penalty box in Canada. Face it, you’re never going to win one against Jack.”

“That’s where you are so wrong. I already did. He’s thinking about dating Dr. Barnett.”

“How do you know that? It’s just wishful thinking,” Weiss argued under his breath.

“No. That look on his face when he’s thinking, that little bit of softening in his face? He’s thinking about a woman-“

“He’s thinking about what form of torture he’s going to employ when he gets you alone, is what he’s thinking!” Weiss spluttered. “Not about dating Barnett-“

“Nah. Susan and I wanted him to consider that option and we got it. At least that’s what I think he’s thinking.... because the other option is too horrible to imagine. But I’m right, I know I am. Instinct.” Vaughn nodded at Weiss.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Weiss sneered. “Perhaps you should have played out this scenario at home with the Barbies before attempting it on real people.”

Vaughn glared at Eric and then in a louder voice, he continued in Jack’s direction, “I mean, seriously, you don’t date someone because they have blonde hair? That’s a pathetic excuse.”

“True,” Marshall said. “I thought better of you. I mean you always have some unique idea. So c’mon.“ Marshall shook his finger, “Jack, Mr. Bristow. Think outside the box.”
“Don’t you mean, The box, you should think out of?” Jack offered, knowing a nice little misdirection would---

“Oh. No. That would mean dangling a preposition and we all know how you hate that.” Marshall said and everyone rolled their eyes. “Oh, but wait...You were making a joke. About Star Wars. Yoda. But wait - how did you know--- Oh, shoot. I mean, don’t take that literally. Not that I think you’d really shoot me over something so inconsequential as calling you Yoda in my spare time. Really, it’s a compliment. It could be much worse. I mean it’s not like it’s say, Boba Fett or --”

“Jar Jar Binks,” Weiss offered.

“Or Barbie Boy,” Kendall said to Vaughn.

“Jar Jar?” Marshall exclaimed, deciding to ignore Kendall. Ignoring Kendall was always a good idea, after all. And besides, the man was trying to veer the conversation away from Star Wars. Finally! A conversation at work about the greatest story ever told and Kendall wanted to ruin it with some garden-variety taunting. Geez. “Yes! Jar Jar would be far worse than Yoda. Exactly my point. Except I don’t really consider Episode One of the same caliber as the original trilogy, do you? So, I tend not to use characters from Episode One and Two. I mean Queen Amidala is no Princess Leia, if you know what I mean and I think you do....Jack....you’re not going to shoot me, are you?”

“No, Marshall, of course not,” Jack said smiling. “At least not over something as inconsequential as a preference for a certain hair color.”

Weiss nodded. “You should be more open-minded, flexible about---” Weiss snapped his mouth shut and looked nauseous.

“Weiss, are you ill?” Jack asked, hoping.

“No, but I will be if I don’t leave. Excuse me,” Eric said. “After all, I know noth--”

“Can the Sargent Schultz routine, Eclair Boy,” Kendall snapped out. “We’re all in this until the bitter end.”

“Are we?” Jack drawled, tapping the spoon on the table. Maybe this was better than a pencil. It made a nice metallic sound, that was making Vaughn wince and spoons were more ubiquitous than pencils, after all. Every restaurant had spoons. Like that ice cream shop the other night....It had tables too. But then again, Judy had a really big table in her apartment, one of the few items she had taken with her from her unhappy marriage. A nice big table and he was a big guy and so....

“Yes, really, Jack.” Vaughn spat out and grimaced as Jack looked up, as if he were paying no attention whatsoever. And this was important! Oh, no, Kendall was speaking again.

“And I have to agree with them about this blonde, I mean blind spot. You need to expand your horizons. After all, it’s not as if the tall, thin brunette type worked out so well for you, now did it?” Kendall asked.

Silence fell as everyone turned wide eyes to Jack, who tapped the spoon against the table with no expression on his face. “Well, now that we’ve had such...helpful, compassionate, thoughtful, kind words of wisdom from Sylvester Kendall here---” Jack drawled and then sat back.

“Sylvester!” everyone exclaimed.
Jack put a hand over his mouth and said, “Oops!” As Kendall glared at him, he continued jovially, “So sorry, Kendall, I didn’t mean for your real first name, Sylvester, to just slip out of my mouth--”

“Of course you didn’t,” Kendall barked out, his face slowly turning red.

“Well, of course I didn’t. Why ever would I want to let that little piece of information slip out? I am shocked, just shocked, at my indiscretion. I’ll be awake into the wee hours of the morning excoriating myself over that failure on my part. You’ll have to excuse that error of judgment on my part. I mean, this whole conversation,” Jack sighed loudly, “Has just been so exhausting. All of this deep discussion about...emotions and all this girl stuff. Hmm, perhaps I need a day at the spa to recover.” He put his hand on the back of his forehead and sighed again. “A mud wrap perchance.”

“That was a good shot,” Dixon whispered to Jack as the table around them erupted in conversation about Kendall’s name.

“I don’t like being backed into a corner,” Jack shrugged.

“Sylvester.. Wait isn’t that the name of that stupid cartoon cat...” Will asked.

“Yes!” Weiss called out. “The one always trying to get Tweetie Bird.”

“You know,” Dixon said, “My daughter has a stuffed Sylvester from her childhood that she no longer play with. Perhaps, you’d like it if I brought in for a .... desk accessory? For you?”

“Why, yes, Marcus. I’m sure, quite sure, that Kendall here has so many fond childhood memories related to that name, that cat. Why, I bet Marshall here could devise a truly clever screensaver just for you,” Jack said with a grin as he looked at Kendall. “Sylvester.”

Kendall opened his mouth, then closed it when Marshall piped up, “I could do that. I could even download some of the animated cartoons complete with audio for you, Assistant Director Kendall. I know, every time, you turn on your computer, Tweety Bird could sing out, ‘I thought I saw a puddy cat!’ That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

“Fun,” Kendall said glumly, looking at Jack, who shrugged and smiled.

Marshall was warbling on, “Or I could look for sound bites with your name, that might be better. Of course, downloading that would be a violation of copyright laws, but, hey, we’re the CIA. What’s a few copyright laws in the grand scheme of things, right?”

“Marshall,” Jack said blandly, “We here at the Agency do not break laws as a matter of policy.”

“Of course,” everyone chorused.

“Just as a matter of fact,” Weiss pointed out.

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Jack asked, “I’d be curious to know, Vaughn, how you knew---”

“About the possibility of blind spots about hair color and being friends? Ah, that would be Zamir and Nia.”

“What? Nia? Nia’s involved in this?” Jack asked, genuinely surprised and allowing it to show on his face. Vaughn deserved a little... enjoyment first, after all. Jack asked, “How? Where?”

“Nia called from London because Syd spoke to Zamir in India the morning---”
“This is a worldwide effort?” Jack asked, rolling his eyes. “But Zamir, what did he---”

“Zamir told me about how long you took picking out...” Vaughn paused and thought better of telling the table the entire story. Some stories, some truths were just for the family, after all. And perhaps he wouldn’t bring up the orchids either. He did want to live to see his wedding day.

“Yes. I remember,” Jack said calmly. And for the love of god, don’t bring up the sexual connotations of orchids in front of Marshall, he begged silently. “But, honestly....”

“Yes, it took an entire circle of friends, from around the world. Nia was in London, Zamir in India and all of us....Ironically, it took all of these friends to help you, I hoped, to see Judy as more than a friend.”

“Ah,” Will said, “That’s what this was about. As I said to you, Jack, in the bathroom, I think you need to listen to that little voice that can tell you if a certain friendship is meant to be something more.”

“I agree,” Marshall said nodding. “Look at Carrie and I, if you can imagine that we started out as friends and now just imagine where we are--”

“I’d really rather not,” Jack muttered.

“But.. I owe you,” Marshall began.

“And Jack, I’d like to thank you for setting me up with Susan. She.. She’s a take charge kind of woman. I like that,” Weiss said nodding.

“Yeah, Jack, that was a good call,” Vaughn commented. “Seeing the potential there.”

“Isn’t it fascinating, though, how I was incapable of seeing a perfect match for myself?” Jack asked, wanting to wind this up. He wanted to read Judy’s note, talk to her, see her again. This had been amusing, but this was merely the second act in this three part play with Vaughn. He began tapping the spoon again, a little harder each time.

Vaughn took a breath and let it out. It was time to finish this, he could tell that Jack’s patience was wearing thin. He normally never allowed you to see his impatience, so he must want this to be done. Vaughn spoke up, “Fascinating? I don’t know. Are blind spots fascinating to you? And you do have another one, after all--”

“Another-“

“Well, it’s your last blind spot--”

“Ah. There is only one more? What a relief, I thought that there was a positive plethora of problems. I thought we might be ensconced here until dinner time.”

“Well, actually... I have some work I need to be doing...” Weiss muttered and began to rise.

Will clamped his hand on his shoulder and whispered, “We must all hang together for assuredly we will all hang separately.”

“Ah, the American Revolution,” Marshall nodded. “A dangerous enterprise.”

“But hanging is preferable to whatever Jack might devise,” Will argued.
Marshall nodded, then whispered back, “It’s not our butts on the line though. It’s Vaughn. Brave, poor, foolish soul.”

“I think he’s counting on Syd to save his butt,” Weiss whispered.

“I am not!” Vaughn argued. “Jack and I have a... relationship of our own.”

“Yeah, you fear him and he doesn’t kill you,” Weiss countered.

Jack spoke up, “If you girls are done gossiping, can we move on? I have-“

Vaughn shrugged. “A plethora of problems? Not any more. Not since you went through therapy.”

“And your point would be.....?” Jack asked impatiently. “Well, come now. Do tell. I am ever so impatient to hear your armchair analysis. What is my final blind spot?”

“Your emotions. Knowing your emotions.”

“I see.” Damn it, everyone had known but him. Maybe, he thought with a grin, he needed more... therapy. Yup, lying down on a couch with his doctor sounded good. The couch in his apartment was bigger though. Maybe she needed to lie down on his couch and work on her fear of heights problem....

“Do you? Do you know your own emotions?” Vaughn pressed. Frantically, he looked around the table. Dixon, he would draw Dixon in, he was older, Jack respected him. “Dixon, don’t you think it would be helpful for -“

Dixon shook his head. “Leave me out of this.” Then looking at Jack, meeting his eyes, he added. “Jack Bristow is mature enough and smart enough to know what’s best for him, how to get it and when he needs it.” And somehow he doubted that Jack was going to make that beer and a game in the bar tonight, after the little snatches he had overheard this afternoon and the handholding he had seen under the table. Kendall, luckily, was so self-absorbed that he had seen nothing unusual. Which explained why the man was still single. And he actually called women chicklets? The man was a fool. As if that had been in doubt. He rolled his eyes.

“Jack, you should be ready by now to move on---” Kendall began, trying to find his way back into the conversation, thinking that men’s conversations had certainly changed since his younger days. What was wrong with talking about the ballgame over a beer? He wanted to know.
This talking about feelings just stunk. What, were they all becoming a bunch of women? He looked over at Jack and smiled in relief. Jack looked about as disgusted as he felt. Good.

Oh lord, Jack thought. Men were sitting around and talking about their feelings? Yup, the men’s bathroom was going to need a feminine hygiene dispenser in there very soon.

Will nodded as Kendall broke off, “Yeah, Jack. You really need to get in touch with your emotions. And if you did, I think you would see that the perfect opportunity was sitting right next-“

“Let me understand what is happening here - I’m supposed to take advice from the five of you? I’m leaving Dixon out of it-“

“There is a god,” Dixon said in a stage whisper.

“But the five of you. None of whom is married or,” he turned an accusing glare on Vaughn, “Even engaged?”
“Yet!” Vaughn protested. “Jack, you know better, you’re just trying to misdirect the conversation because you feel... pressured, trapped. I did anticipate that outcome. That is why I devised this strategy of playing cards. I thought it would relax you and given the fact that you were ready, at least on a subconscious level, to... move on and....”

“And you thought all you and Susan had to do was throw Judy and I together and voila!” Jack sneered. At himself, too. That had in fact been all it had taken for his eyes to open. Oh, well, this would be a good story one day. If he decided to allow Vaughn to live, the kid could enjoy telling it to their kids, gloating over the day he won a game over their grandfather.

“Well, something like that,” Vaughn said slowly, once again wondering if he had erred. Damn it, Jack was confusing him. But no, he needed to maintain his focus.

“And on what do you base your.... belief that Judy and I are a perfect match?” Jack asked, honestly curious, but wondering how he could use the answer to his advantage.

Aha! Vaughn thought. If Jack were so... averse or uninterested he would not have bothered to ask that question, he would have already ended the conversation. Unless, of course, he had some other.... oh, no. A doubleplay?

“Vaughn, I’m waiting. Why did you think Judy and I....”

Vaughn smiled. Ha. He had asked again. A mistake on his part. He thought. He shrugged and said, “Well, part of it was watching you two together on various occasions. You seem to enjoy each other’s company so much---”

“I believe we’ve already had the conversation about friends dating and I really don’t care to revisit the topic of dating Zamir. Besides, his wife might object.”

“Jack....” Vaughn ground his teeth together and reminded himself that Jack could irritate like no one else, that is was part of his little game. “I could go on and on. But in the end, it comes down to instincts. Just instincts. And you always say---”

Jack smiled slowly. “Instincts? Are these the same infallible instincts that led you to try to use my manual on my own daughter last night?”

“The manual?” Weiss asked. “Wait, you mentioned that before. But I know nothing about any manual. Mike, are you holding out on me?”

“Well, I do believe that he might have benefitted from sharing his plans with someone, Weiss.” Jack smiled again as he continued, “Even you. Who knows? He might not have ended up sleeping on my couch last night if--”

“Barbie kicked Ken out?” Kendall asked, smirking.

“I am not Ken and she is not Barbie!” Vaughn began.

“Well,” Weiss said, “It doesn’t sound like either Ken had fully functional parts last night.”

“Yeah, Kendall,” Jack said, trying not to laugh. “The fool tried to use the techniques from my manual on my own daughter.”

“That is sick,” Kendall said, with a twist to his lips. “Sick and twisted.”
“I don’t know what’s in that manual, but I don’t want to know any more about any techniques!” Dixon said, grimacing. “Sydney’s like a daughter to me, so.... “

“Well, they should have worked!” Vaughn protested. “Your success rate---”

“Are you insane!” Weiss exclaimed. “Shut up now. Redirect, like Jack always says. And puh-leeze, not with an offer of a soda.”

“Wait, how did you know, Jack?” Vaughn asked suddenly. “Know that I would do that... with that knowledge?”

“Easy. You were in the Archives with Marshall. Marshall who would demand proof of the validity of my theory, replication of my research. And you thought, hey, I know....Not knowing the flaw in the plan is that Sydney already knew about the dissertation and the research so your... pathetic attempt ---”

“Totally sqwicked her out!” Will said laughing. “That explains it.”

“Sqwicked? Is that a word, Jack?” Kendall asked.

“In my dictionary, it is.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Vaughn moaned. “Wait. You... you knew that I knew. You knew that Marshall would... be Marshall. You’d knew I’d try...what I tried. You knew I’d get kicked out. You knew, odds were, that I’d end up at your place. Then when I got there, you asked me when I was going to propose to Sydney and I complained that I couldn’t find the perfect ring and you just happened to have a whole sheaf of drawings you had made, just in case, you said.”

“Are you doing anything you don’t want to do, Michael?” Jack asked.

“No. Of course not. I wanted to, but I was, as you said, hung up on the perfect ring, the perfect moment. Which you knew. But...You knew....”

“He knows all,” Marshall intoned in a deep voice.

“So, the whole time I was playing this game, you knew? And you were playing a game of your own?” Vaughn asked, feeling his forehead furrow.

“Is that a question? I mean, really.” Jack smiled, although inwardly he grimaced. Vaughn had in fact played him quite well, but he didn’t need to know that quite yet. He still had to pay for forcing this confrontation in public. Unacceptable.

“Jack... How did you know Vaughn was playing a game?” Will asked. “Did you put some clues together or-“

“That and instinct,” he said succinctly. Then wondered how long it would take Vaughn to realize that he had just deliberately dropped a compliment. Long enough, to be sure, for a little more fun.

“Not extensive background research?” Dixon asked with a smile.

“No, not this time,” Jack said, tapping his cards, “It was all in the extensive background preparation. And the game is over, surely---”

“But---” Vaughn protested, realizing that he didn’t really know where he stood in this game. He felt, his instincts told him that something had happened today and Susan had thought that something had happened with some spoons, but... Jack was so... normal in his poker face. He wasn’t apparently angry and ever since Panama, Jack did show his anger and other emotions more readily. And surely, if something had happened, he wouldn’t be sitting around here playing some game with a bunch of guys? Would he? Unless---

“Vaughn! Pay attention,” Jack snapped, seeing that Vaughn was thinking and given how on target his instincts had been he needed to redirect again. “Are you ready to show your cards? Still want to place that bet that you won’t meddle again?”

“Of course. I know I have the winning hand---” Vaughn slapped his cards down on the table.

“No. I believe I do,” Jack said softly, smiling as he lightly touched the spoon next to his cards before flipping them over.

Vaughn’s mouth gaped open as he stared at Jack’s exposed cards. “How the hell---”

“You really need to learn how to count cards a little bit better, Michael,” Jack said, standing up. “So, no more meddling from you, right?”

“I...”

“I do believe I need to go wash my hands of this sordid encounter. All this talking about emotions has made me feel... dirty.” Jack began to walk away. “Perhaps the men’s room has a dispenser with some scented hand lotion. I prefer the vanilla scent myself.” He stopped walking momentarily. “Oh, Weiss,”Jack said over his shoulder. “You can go now, of course.. But don’t follow me into the bathroom, okay?” Weiss looked at him carefully and nodded. “I don’t need any more close encounters after this exhausting event and my upcoming plans. But I did put in an order for you for eclairs with the pastry chef. They’ll be ready at 5pm in the executive kitchen. Just ask for Enid.”

“I.. Thanks, Jack,” Eric nodded.

“How did he do that?” Vaughn spluttered as Jack walked away. “I was sure I had the winning hand or I would have never made that bet.”

“That’s easy,” Marshall said. “If you can count cards at all, play the odds, then you would tabulate-“

“Marshall, just explain-“ Vaughn gritted out. He was in no mood. And what was this crap about counting cards, anyway?

“He cheated.” Marshall told him.

“He WHAT?”

Dixon burst out laughing. “He warned you. Earlier. When he said that he doesn’t always play by the rules. Remember?”

“I did. That’s why I folded as soon as I could,” Kendall nodded as he tossed his cards at Vaughn.

“I folded because I just wanted out,” Weiss noted.

“I folded because I suck at this game,” Will offered.

“I folded because it was more fun to watch than to play,” Dixon said.
“I folded because I realized that we were not playing with a full deck,” Marshall commented.

“Speaking of not playing with a full deck, Michael....” Weiss began. “What’s your next game plan, hot shot? Since this one worked out so well and all?”

“I’m gonna go find that-“

“Careful, careful, Vaughn,” Kendall said, smirking. “That’s your future father-in-law, who could break you in half and not even look up from the book he’s reading.”

“Speaking of future father-in-law, when are you going to propose to Sydney, anyway?” Dixon asked.

“As soon as Jack finishes the ring.... “ Vaughn trailed off. “Oh brother. I better go talk to him.”

“Major suck up ahead,” Weiss intoned as they all got up from the table. “I think he went into the bathroom.”

“Did he?” Vaughn asked suspiciously. “Where we were all supposed to meet afterwards to discuss--- Weiss?”

“Don’t look at me, I’m just... playing the odds. He did say he was going to wash his hands after all.”

“Where did he go?” Vaughn asked Sydney as the men poured into the hallway. All three women pointed to the men’s bathroom.

“I’m not going in there,” Marshall said, “Not first.”

“Me either,” Weiss said. “I’m a backup kinda guy. Not the lead. Nope, not me.”

“I think I’ll just stay out here with the girls,” Will said.

“I’m not being first,” Dixon said.

“Me neither,” Kendall agreed with a grin. Crossing his arms over his chest, he nodded his chin in Vaughn’s direction.” I vote for Vaughn here, he got us all into this and-“

“Yeah,” Will agreed. “Michael should be first.”

“Susan...” Vaughn moaned looking at her, “You were in this with me-“

“That’s the men’s bathroom, Michael. I cannot go in there. Why, who knows what horrors await an innocent little female in that bastion of male... something or other?” Susan laughed. She shook her head. “I’m staying right here.”

“Yeah,” Sydney said, grinning, “Mikey. You go first.”

“Good luck, Mike. Nice knowin’ you,” Eric called out and waggled his fingers as Vaughn paused at the door and looked back. Then he pushed open the door and went in.

Sydney immediately turned to Weiss and putting one hand on her hip, poked the other at Weiss’ chest as she demanded, “Eric...what do you know?”

“Know? I know noth---” Weiss protested.
“Stow the Sargent Schultz routine, Eclair Boy,” Sydney hissed as she advanced on him.. “What do you know and what did you tell my father?”

Weiss backed up. “I know noth---”

Sydney went toward him. “Eric Weiss. Unless you make like Houdini and can do a disappearing act, you’d better ‘fess up. Now.”

“It’s nothing, Syd. Nothing.” Weiss shook his head, then grinned. “I just...mentioned to your father that the likely bloodshed would occur in the men’s room after lunch. That is where Vaughn was planning on cornering your father in case he proved....”

“Difficult? Recalcitrant? Impossible? Intractable---”

“Syd. That’s four words and your father always stops at three,” Marshall pointed out.

“I’m the next generation of Bristow and therefore I can use four words,” Sydney argued. Then glaring at Weiss, she said, “So...”

“So, I’m guessing your father went in there to have a private discussion with Vaughn.” Weiss shrugged. “You know he wouldn’t like to air dirty family laundry in public.”

“I have a feeling Vaughn’s gonna have some dirty laundry to air after Jack gets down with him in there,” Will noted.

“Oooh, true. Syd remember that time in London when I had that little...” Marshall lowered his voice, then sidled up to Sydney. Carrie didn’t need to hear this. “That little squirting problem?”

Sydney bit her lip and nodded. “Well, we’ll see. Private discussions,” Sydney sighed, “Between my dad and Vaughn don’t always go... well. Sometimes guns are involved.”

“Don’t worry, Syd,” Kendall commented. “Your father won’t really hurt Pretty Boy. Not in any visible location, anyway.”

“You’re right. I hope,” Sydney said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “But I wish I knew what was going on in there.”

“I’m quite sure I don’t want to know,” Weiss said, shaking his head. “Ignorance is my friend. It allows me to cheat death.”

“Hey, wait,” Will asked, “How did Jack cheat, anyway?”

Marshall noted, “Well, first of all, there were too many high cards.”

Sydney laughed. “Background preparation, of course.”

“What do you mean?” Weiss asked.

Part 9