To Boldly Go...


Together the duo stumbled out of the bathroom and collapsed naked onto the bed.  “That was a really interesting interrogation technique,” Doctor Sabrina DeLane observed.

“Interesting, but obviously very effective.”  CTU Agent Jack Bauer rolled his head to one side and looked at the naked woman lying next to him.  “You gave it up without a fight.”

Sabrina quirked a brow at her lover.  She was too weary to do much more.  “The word ‘it’, she emphasized with mock disdain, “had better refer to your cell phone that I had hidden.”

“Of course.”  Jack looked up at the ceiling and grinned.  “That, too.”  He was swiftly rewarded with a playful elbow in his side.  “Ouch.”

“Serves you right.”

Conversation ceased.  The couple lay in companionable silence.  Neither one felt the need to speak.  They rested atop the rumpled bedcovers until the cool breeze of the ceiling fan chilled forms still damp from their shared shower.

Jack groaned, sat up and stretched.  His body, fit and taut from the daily rigors of his job, also showed the souvenirs of his dangerous profession.  The physician in Sabrina winced at the assortment of scars Jack bore.  “You call it,” he offered, interrupting her thoughts.  “Room service or take out?”

“I have absolutely no complaints about the service I’ve received in this room,” Sabrina purred.  She ran a teasing nail down Jack’s spine.  “I see no reason to change.”

“I’m going to assume,” Jack teased, “that means you choose the hotel menu.”

“Of course.”  It was Sabrina’s turn to grin.  “That, too.”

Sabrina enjoyed the sound of Jack’s laughter.  She rose gracefully from the bed and padded nude across the room to the dresser.  “A missed call,” she frowned.  “The phone rang and we didn’t hear it?”  The beautiful doctor thought back to the very enthusiastic encounter she and Jack had only recently enjoyed.  The memory of it sent a jolt of renewed desire racing all the way down to her manicured toes.  “No,” she reflected wryly, “we probably wouldn’t have heard it.”

The missed call was from Port Charles.  Sabrina played – and replayed – the terse voice message left for her. ‘Your presence is required,’ it said. ‘Return home.’

“Something wrong?”

Sabrina started.  She hadn’t heard Jack come up behind her.  “Something must have happened at home.”  She let Jack hear the message on her cell phone.  “It isn’t life-or-death, apparently.  Or this message would have been delivered by a cadre of Russian bodyguards sent to escort me back to Wyndemere.”

Jack looked at his watch.  It was already almost midnight.  “Room service will be here in about ten minutes.  We’ll eat and then I promise to keep my hands off you long enough for you to grab a couple of hours sleep.”  He picked up the telephone.  “I’ll book you on the first morning flight going east.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m sure the Cassadine jet has been waiting for me since that message came.”  Sabrina grabbed a handful of silk from her suitcase.  She had been in California less than a day; there had been no opportunity to unpack.  “I’ll get something to eat on the plane.”  She headed for the bathroom.  “I have to leave now.”

“You’re leaving now?”  Jack carefully posed the question of Sabrina.

Sabrina stopped at the threshold of the bathroom.  “When he said return home,” she referred to her cell phone’s voice message, “that meant immediately.”

~ Port Charles, Tuesday afternoon ~