This is my first attempt at writing, having been inspired by all the great stories and writers here, so I hope readers will be kind…!

A recipe for disaster -- that’s what this was turning out to be. With a yelp of pain he dropped the pan of burnt cookies and dived for the faucet, sighing in relief as the cold cascade of water cooled the burn streak across his fingertips. Even his oven mitts weren’t cooperating, he thought, eyeing the gaping hole in one of them.

His latest baking spree had turned into a weekend long marathon, dotted with one disaster after another. In his estimation, sugar should not look exactly like salt. Accidents were bound to happen and he was sure he wasn't the first person to put a cup of salt into a batch of cookies. And who knew there were so many kinds of sugar anyway? Demerara, yellow, dark brown, fine, confectioner’s, cane…They looked different, felt different and definitely yielded different results when added to a batch of cookie dough. And since when did roll out cookies mean flattening out with a rolling pin, not rolling the dough into a ball? Or why hadn’t his mother warned him that baking soda and baking powder were not interchangeable? And that eggs came in different sizes but recipes didn’t specify which size was called for?

Head spinning, he muttered his exasperation in unflattering terms as he turned off the tap and set about cleaning the kitchen…again. He’d done little else the past two days and he was no closer to finding the perfect recipe, and the contest was this week! Cursing the collective bad luck of the ‘bullpen boys’ as Lucy had dubbed them he took out some of his frustration on the hapless charred remains of what were supposed to be his grandmother’s never-fail hermit cookies. He’d likely have to become a hermit after this fiasco was all over.

“Eleanor Rippendorf!” Her name rolled off his tongue like the vilest of oaths and he took great delight in upending the cookie tray into the garbage. If only Eleanor could be dismissed that easily.

She had cornered their unsuspecting group at a restaurant, just as she had in previous years, catching them unawares as they wolfed down a hasty lunch without the girls for protection. Sue and Lucy had gone to Charlie’s on some errand and Tara had been at an ill-timed dental appointment, which left the men of the team vulnerable to the attack.

Eleanor had swooped in, a chilling combination of coos and trills as she launched into her latest charity project. A celebrity bake off.

“That’s great, Eleanor, but we’re not celebrities,” he had pointed out with a false sense of relief.

“You are to me, fellas,” she’d said as she batted her eyelashes and pursed her lips. He’d known a moment of blind panic when he thought she was going to lean over and kiss him but D had deftly distracted her by lamenting his unavailability due to his married status.

“This time it doesn’t matter, handsome. We’re looking for the best cooks DC has to offer from all walks of life. I’ll put you in our Community Service Worker division. All we need from you is a plate of your very own home baked cookies and the recipe, written out in your own manly script. Our discerning judges…of which I am one… (twitter)…will provide the necessary tastebuds…(she rolled her tongue and poked it out the side of her mouth along with a suggestive wink)…We’ll decide who gets into the semi-finals. The finals take place on the Fourth of July when you’ll head up a hand-picked team to bake your cookies in our outdoor ovens and the public will decide who our top twelve winners will be. They win a page in our…Hunk of the Month calendar…photo and recipe included. All proceeds go to the children’s hospital…How can you say no to that?”

A hearty round of nays had echoed through the restaurant and that was that until the call came from upstairs. In the interest of improving public relations it was deemed beneficial for certain agents to volunteer their services to a charitable cause…

He’d been baking each weekend ever since and had yet to find an edible recipe and now time was running out.

It didn’t help that the other guys in the bullpen actually seemed to be enjoying themselves, either.

Lucy and Tara had suggested that everyone brought in the results of their labours on Monday mornings, and had put up a comments and star ratings board for “The FBI Baking Idol”.

D, on getting their instructions, had asked Donna for help and appropriate recipes, and had produced some excellent milk chocolate chip cookies on the first weekend… and had continued to produce exactly the same cookies each week since then. The (largely) self-appointed judging panel of Lucy, Tara, Sue (and Levi, of course) had dropped hints… followed by increasingly strong suggestions that creativity and variety would be appreciated, all of which had been steadfastly ignored.

Myles and Bobby had, however, got pretty competitive over the last month, and word had spread. The bullpen was getting noticeably crowded every Monday, with the residents of nearby offices oh-so casually ‘just dropping by’ with coffee… and plates.

Scores by the official judges had them neck and neck at the moment, with Myles’ latest offering of white chocolate, apricot and macadamia nut soft cookies just edging out Bobby’s ginger thins, but it was close... and Bobby had been deemed the winner for the previous two weeks.

Then there is my contribution to the baker’s art, thought Jack, mordantly, which seems to be somewhere between a designated public health risk and a level three biohazard. Wiping off the worktop in the kitchen for the fourth time that day, he snorted to himself. Face it, Hudson. You can’t cook. Levi could probably bake better!

He grinned at the mental picture of the golden in an apron and chef’s hat, then, as usual, found his thoughts sliding sideways to the dog’s owner, and sighed.

Sue…

Since she had turned down the New York promotion, he had found it increasingly difficult to keep thinking of her as ‘just’ a friend. Not that she was ‘just’ anything… or ever had been, if he was going to be honest with himself. He had been attracted to her from the moment she stormed into the bullpen, and the feelings had only grown stronger every day since.

Sighing again, he dropped the dishcloth in the sink and put the coffee-maker on.

I have to get past this… stalemate.

Do I tell her how I feel, and risk this job that I love if she does care about me, and her friendship if she doesn’t feel the same?
Or do I carry on as always, stealing looks across the bullpen, pretending that all those lunches and dinners are strictly platonic, afraid to admit how much I want to be with her? Afraid that someone else will come along and I’ll lose her to someone who doesn’t deserve her… not that I deserve her either!

He made the coffee absently, placing the mug on the table to cool a little while he brooded.

She had, of course, offered to help him with this cookery thing when it became evident that his culinary skills were… lacking. Everyone else had laughed as he related his first weekend of baking woes, and although she had smiled, it had been sympathetic.

“I have some great family recipes if you need them, Jack,” she said, softly. Then her eyes began to sparkle with mischief. “and Levi is great at disposing of any cookie related disaster!”

Bobby had waved to get her attention. “D’ya really want to risk poor Levi to Sparky’s cooking?” he grinned. He then spoke directly to the dog lying next to Sue’s desk. “That would probably qualify for hazardous duty, mate. What d’ya think?” Levi groaned and rolled over, covering his nose with his paws, and the bullpen erupted in laughter once again. Jack shot a daggered look at his friend, but Bobby just winked. “Prove me wrong, Sparky!”

Nothing more had been said, but she had smiled again and dropped her hand on to his shoulder briefly before returning to her desk, and he smiled now, remembering the warmth in her eyes.

Welcome Eclipsse!


Great start! I feel sorry for poor Jack.




Bobby, laughing at your best mate ... how dare you?

Welcome!!!

This is great so far and I'm totally excited to see what you have next!!!

Em

Welcome! You've got a fantastic start! I can't believe this is your first attempt at writing.

Your characters are right on. I'm looking forward to more!







I love all the humour!

grreat start, i rwally feel for jack

cath

I love it! And welcome to the challenge. Fantastic start so far.

kav

"Then there is my contribution to the baker’s art, thought Jack, mordantly, which seems to be somewhere between a designated public health risk and a level three biohazard." Oh that is so funny!

Welcome to the challenge and a great start!

First attempt? Wow. It felt like you've been writing all your life.

You've created the scene, the characters and the banter exactly like what we would've seen in the episodes. Wonderful!

"The FBI Baking Idol"! I love that too!

Welcome to the world of writing, Eclipsse!

~Siti~

Wow this is an start Eclipsse!!! You have some very natural talent. I just loved the humour!

I feel sorry for Jack tho...Go Jack Go!!!!

Welcome to the challenge! Already this seems like an interesting ride. Where's the popcorn?

Thank you all so much! I was so nervous about submitting anything - and you have all been so welcoming and kind. to everyone!

As a very new fan of the show, one of the things that hooked me was the humour, so I will try to keep it in.

Next instalment below!

Unfortunately, Bobby’s predictions had proved entirely too accurate, and six weekends of effort had, as yet, failed to produce anything that was even remotely edible.

His slot on the ‘Baking Idol’ scoreboard had been humiliatingly empty until the middle of last week, when someone had stuck a picture of an empty plate with ‘Cookies, cookies, wherefore are our cookies?!’ printed across it. Chief suspect in that crime against humour was Tara, but he couldn’t really blame the team for enjoying themselves at his expense. Unfortunately.

And yet, Jack’s pride would not let him give up.

I always have to prove that I can do everything, don’t I? he thought. Even when the last thing I want to do is to get anywhere in this contest – and have to spend time dodging the … overenthusiastic… Ms Rippendorf.

Maybe I should just give in and present my current best efforts. He then began to chuckle quietly. On the other hand, I’m pretty sure that a mass poisoning would not look too good on my Bureau record, and the rest of the judging panel are probably very nice people.

He had completely lost faith in the hermit cookie recipe, and had run out of nearly everything. Maybe – he could find a simple cookbook and try something new… if nothing else, getting out into the fresh air might clear my head.



The afternoon was cool and very overcast as Jack left his apartment building. He immediately felt better than he had all weekend and, taking a couple of deep breaths uncontaminated by flour, spices or the smell of burning, walked quickly to the car.

The streets were relatively quiet, only a few braving the threatening rain clouds. The drive was uneventful, and the parking lot was almost empty as he drew up. Hoping the place was still open, he walked quickly towards the entrance, somewhat distracted. He couldn’t remember whether this store actually had a book section, but it was probably worth…

He snapped suddenly into alertness. Something was wrong. Something behind him… faint sounds… a struggle? Something … casually, nice and slow, nerves prickling, he turned.
There was a wide alley between the grocery store and the next door building, lined with garbage and recycling bins. There was nothing visible, and whatever sound had alerted him had stopped.

Then – sounds of movement. A grunt. Soft thuds.
It wasn’t obvious but…Jack had been a field agent too long to ignore his instincts. I have a bad feeling about this…
Forgetting the shopping, and regretting that he wasn’t armed and had no backup, Jack pulled out his phone and began to move more rapidly towards the alley. There was no-one in sight, but he could now hear voices, low pitched, the tone threatening. Someone is definitely up to something they shouldn’t be…

Then, shockingly, a high, wordless scream, which just as suddenly cut off.

Oh, I don't like this, I don't like it at all! (what's happening, not the writing; very good writing). I have a very bad feeling, right now...

Yikes. I have a bad feeling about this too....and I agree, great writing!

I don't have a good feeling about this either.

Em

Welcome!! I agree with Siti, I feel as if I'm sitting here watching a new episode of our favorite show and team!! The banter and characters are right on!! I feel sorry for Jack, but he could call Sue!! She would love to help him!!!

You took us from laughter to hanging on the edge of our seats in a nanasecond!! I can't wait to see what Jack has found in the alley!! With his not being armed, I hope he doesn't get hurt!!!

This is a great start!! Are you sure this is your first writing experience?? You're a natural!!!

Joy

I do don't have a good feeling about this...please be safe jack!

Yah, I feel very edgy too! What is going on??? That didn't sound too good.

yikes

cath

Screams in alleys are never a good thing!!!

Jill

You left Jack

This is riveting! Can't wait for more!

Thank you all again for your wonderful feedback and comments! Be warned - you'll only make me more!

Suesfan - you're sooo right that the 'scene transition' is too abrupt - I was trying for a sort of TV 'fast cut' edit but it didn't really work!

Anyway here is the next segment...

Act I

His instincts and training overrode everything else. He started to run to the near end of the building, staying in cover while dialling 911. Keeping his voice low, he gave his ID and reported a crime in progress, gave his location, and asked for backup. As he reached the entrance, he shoved his phone into a pocket while hastily scanning the lot. Typical - no-one else in sight.

Taking one deep breath, he rounded the first of the bins, racing down the alley.

They were much closer to the lot than he was prepared for – three men, none obviously armed, looking up at his less-than-silent approach. One was tall and well dressed –expensive suit and tie, with well kept, if greying, hair. The other two appeared to be rougher, probably street thugs, in jeans and sweatshirts and – although I may be biased here - thought Jack, ugly expressions. One, who had bleached, short cropped hair, also appeared to have blood smeared across the front of his shirt, and he was the one who started moving towards him first.

The well-dressed man – who looked somewhat familiar - made a quick shooing motion to the other thug, who grinned and also began to move forward. He then turned and quickly walked away, fastidiously avoiding the garbage on the ground. Jack caught a fleeting glimpse of a dark sedan parked at the far end of the alley, before refocusing on the threats closer to hand. If I survive this, Bobby will never let me live it down. No weapon, no backup… He’s always said my ‘white knight’ behaviour would get me into serious trouble one day… I just always thought he meant romantically!

Assessing the situation with an experienced eye, their reactions were … odd. No challenge, no warning, no verbal threats, just a readiness for violence. What have I stumbled into…?

Both men were facing him now, ensuring that he had no chance of following the man in the suit. As the second man moved further forwards, he seemed to stumble slightly and then recover. Glancing down to see what had caused the slip, Jack froze, and his eyes hardened.

A slender arm, bootprint clearly visible on the hand, was outflung from behind a pile of boxes as if its owner was desperately reaching out for his help. A tumble of long blonde hair spilled loose over the face, obscuring it completely, but he could see that the fallen figure was female, and had been badly beaten.

“Back off”. Jack said quietly, but with rising anger. “Get away from her… Now.”

“Big mistake, mister curiosity”, rasped the dark-haired thug. “playin’ hero’s gonna get you hurt like our little flower here. She’s not so much fun anymore, maybe you can entertain us…”
“Do you really think I came down here without backup on the way?” Jack asked, scorn edging his voice, inwardly hoping that they believed him. He was sure that he could handle himself against these two in a fight, but the woman’s injuries looked serious, and he needed to call the paramedics.

Reaching into his pocket for his ID, he started moving towards them “Agent Hudson, FB…aargh!”

Too late, he heard another man behind him. Stupid, Hudson! Not checking for more unfriendlies... rookie mistake. This is probably going to hurt...

Something hit him, hard, across the back of his head and left shoulder, and, stunned, he dropped to the ground. He felt one of them pulling at the hand in his pocket, grabbing his ID, while the other delivered a brutal kick to the ribs.
He curled into a ball, trying to get his breath and guard against the next attack, and then heard a vile stream of curses and panicked conversation.

“He is FBI! How’d they know? How’d they find us? What…”
“Durrant! He set us up!”
“We’ve gotta get out of here!”
“Leave her! If the cops find us here we’re dead.”
“Just run!

Then, the answer to his unsaid prayers… sirens. And the sound of running feet.

My heart is pounding! Absolutely riveting! Poor Jack! And that blond haired lady!

I totally agree....that had me on the edge of my seat!

wow, hope the woman is ok

cath

I like the siren, but who's the woman?

Yikes! I need to take a few breaths to calm my heart! That really scared me!

I'm going to look like this until you post again... so hurry, my coworkers are giving me strange looks!

Em

Hi Eclipsse! Just adding my welcome. Welcome!!

This is your first try?? Your joking right? Your not?? Man you are good!!!

Sam

Thanks again for all your kind words and encouragement - to you all!

Groaning, Jack slowly uncurled and half sat up. He felt sore and still pretty dizzy, and wasn’t entirely sure that standing up was going to be an option for a little while. Shutting his eyes helped his spinning head somewhat, but unfortunately made him brutally aware of the smell emanating from his surroundings – rotting food, soggy cardboard and … less pleasant scents, which he would rather not consider at the moment. His stomach was churning, and he swallowed several times. I am NOT going to be sick…

The sirens were closer now, and he could hear the rumbles of approaching thunder. Then his awareness shifted to his surroundings, and the sounds of laboured breathing close by.

The woman! He turned his head quickly, making both dizziness and nausea worse, and saw that she still hadn’t moved. Luckily, she wasn’t too far away, and he crawled slowly towards her, reached the outstretched arm, and sighed in relief as he felt a pulse. Carefully, he brushed the hair off her face, and realised, with another surge of anger, that she was much younger than he had originally thought, maybe fifteen or sixteen, possibly younger. Just a girl – and a painfully thin one at that.

There we have it, he thought, grimly. Positive proof that the bad guys have lost any sense of proportion. Since when does it take four men to beat up –no, to brutalise a kid who would probably be blown over by a hard sneeze?

A bleakly humorous thought struck him. Perhaps we could request a new set of wrongdoers? Send a letter to someone complaining of the declining standards in criminal behaviour and asking for more gentlemanly bad guys? He fought the urge to laugh. This is the federal capital, after all. We should have higher standards…

A soft moan from the girl brought him back to himself. Focus, Hudson! Deal with what’s in front of you! Quietly, gently, he started to talk to her.

“It’s OK, honey. You’re safe. The paramedics will be here soon.”

Without moving her, he tried to assess her injuries. She had an oozing cut on her forehead and a badly split lip, but he couldn’t see any other bleeding, just the reddening bruises which seemed to mark every inch of exposed skin. Thankfully, she seemed to be breathing steadily, if noisily, and he relaxed slightly.

“What on earth did you get involved in, to end up here, with those guys? What did they want?”
He took a couple of shallow breaths, feeling a little less dizzy. “Wake up, honey. They’re gone, they can’t hurt you anymore.”

It was difficult to really see past the mud and bruises, but he guessed that she wasn’t from the better side of town. Her jeans were shabby, and her short-sleeved shirt had a carefully mended triangular tear near the hem.

He shifted position, trying to ease the pain in his ribs, and inadvertently tightened his grip on her wrist. She flinched away, gasping, and opened hazy, terrified grey eyes. He instantly let go of her and groped for his ID, wincing as he moved.

“It’s OK – you’re safe.” He repeated, gently. “I’m an FBI agent…” he showed her his badge. “I’m Jack. Jack Hudson. I’d really like to know your name. Will you tell me?”

She swallowed convulsively, her eyes fixed on him, and started to scramble to her feet. She didn’t make it very far, crumpling back to the ground, gasping, ending up in a huddle against a dented bin a couple of feet away, her eyes never leaving his face.

“I promise - no one will hurt you. Help’s coming.”

A Metro PD marked car skidded into the parking lot, the lights reflecting down the walls. Jack took a deep breath of relief, hardly noticing the stab from his battered ribs as he heard doors slamming, and called out his location.

The girl flinched away when the officer, a man of medium build with short, light brown hair and a concerned face, whose name badge read Frye, D, ran towards them. Jack held out his arm, slowing the other mans headlong approach, keeping his eyes on his rescuee.

“Agent Hudson?”
“That’s me. Could you call the paramedics, please?”
“Already on their way. Are you injured?
“A bump on the head and some bruises. Nothing serious. This young woman needs help, though.”
“Who is she?”

The officer moved towards them, and the girl shrank back, gasping, huddling further into the mess surrounding them.

Jack gestured, more urgently, for him to stop.
“No idea, but when I arrived, there were four… unsavoury types… beating her to a pulp. She’s scared and hurting, and pretty skittish. I think she’s in shock.”

“No kidding. Where did the bas…” Frye looked at the girl, still staring at the FBI agent with a desperate intensity, reconsidered his words, then continued “bad guys go? Or am I gonna find bodies behind the dumpsters?”
Jack shot him a look. “They ran when they heard the sirens and…” he trailed off, running through what he remembered of their conversation before they bolted, in his mind.

There was a shout from the end of the alley. “Hey, Chip! Medics are here!”

Frye called back. “Send ‘em down. One casualty.” Then looking down. “D’ya want to get up? Can’t say it looks all that comfortable down there.”

Jack tried started getting to his feet, swaying unsteadily. Officer Frye gave him a hand up, supporting him until the world stopped spinning.

“Seems to me, Agent Hudson, that you might just need to have the docs check you out. Most times we see someone standing at that angle, they’ve been enjoying themselves at the bar a bit too freely.”

Jack grinned, lopsidedly. “How d’ya know I haven’t?”
Frye snorted but did not reply.

The paramedics approached them, pushing a gurney carefully through the litter. Jack’s grin faded as he looked back at the blonde girl still cowering behind him. The look of absolute terror had faded, now she just looked… lost. Hopeless.

Slowly, he moved towards her, talking gently and encouragingly. “These guys are here to help us, honey. Please don’t be afraid.”

He held out his hand, trying to appear as unthreatening as possible. She was still staring at him.
Her hands twitched, moved, and then stilled as he reached her side and knelt down next to her. Suddenly, she caught his hand, clinging tightly with both of hers while tears began to spill slowly down her cheeks.

Jack felt totally helpless. She was so fragile, so scared. All he could think of was to just to tell her, over and over, that it would be alright, that she was safe, that nobody would hurt her again. He felt his own eyes began to burn with unshed tears of grief and frustration, and anger that anyone could do this. He kept talking to her, keeping his voice low and soothing, not really thinking about what he was saying, and slowly, she seemed to calm.

At least I was here. He thought to himself. At least I stopped it being worse.

She made no attempt to resist as the paramedics started to assess her, but seemed to be totally ignoring them and the questions they asked. She just clung to his hand as if it were a lifeline.

He sighed, and watched them work. Sometimes I get so lost in the small details of my life that I forget what’s important. Protecting those who need it. Stopping those who would hurt innocent people – for any reason. Isn’t that why I joined the Bureau in the first place?

You may not be able to bake, Sparky, but you can at least help people. Even if it’s only by being a punchbag! He smiled to himself, refocusing on his surroundings – maybe a doctor isn’t such a bad idea, after all – can’t seem to keep my head in the here and now – he noticed that she looked a little less scared, and when he smiled, she - tremulously – smiled a little back at him.

“Maybe she’ll listen to you, Agent Hudson” one of the paramedics moved to Jack’s side. “Her injuries appear to be mostly surface ones, but with an assault like this she could have internal damage and we need to get her to hospital, which means getting her on the gurney, and…” he shrugged. “We could just pick her up, but she might go hysterical, and… the poor kids’ been through quite enough manhandling for one day.”

“I’ll try.” Jack gently tapped her hand, and pointed.
“We need you to lie down on this, honey. OK?”
She nodded, and slowly and painfully got to her feet, with the medic’s help, and was helped up and gently strapped in, still refusing to let go of him.

Carefully they wheeled her towards the ambulance.

“Do we know who she is, yet?” Officer Frye asked as they passed the patrol car. “We’ll need to get hold of her family and tell them where she is.”

As the gurney rolled to a stop, Jack leant towards her. “Honey, you know my name. Please tell me yours. Please.” Without thinking or really being aware of it, Jack signed the final word as well as saying it, and her eyes suddenly widened.

She let go of his hand and finger spelled; M…A…Y.

When he didn’t respond, she tried again, signing this time; my name – May.

Jack looked at the others. “She’s signing! She’s…”
Frye chimed in. “...Deaf.”

Didn't see that coming! Wow! Oh, I cannot wait to read more!

Eclipsse, this is great! Riveting! I couldn't stop reading it. Your descriptions are vivid without being distracting and you action made this a page turner. I sure didn't see the fact she was deaf coming. Great tie-in to the show.

Didn't see that one coming either

Time to wake up Sue, Jack!

This is wonderful.

Kim

Very interesting. I'm really enjoying this story!

Eclipsse, I wasn't complaining about laughter to edge of your seat - I think it's terrific the way you had us lulled into safeness, then BAM, action!! That's the perfect way to get your readers hooked on your story and keep them reading!!!

I was starting to wonder if maybe May is deaf when she wasn't responding!! God works in mysterious ways!! He put Jack near that alley!! I have a feeling that Jack is going to feel pretty good about his signing by the time this is over, thus bringing him closer to Sue!!!

Joy

What a great storyline elcipsse!

That was a bitter sweet read and then topped off with a surprising yet exciting turn of events with May being deaf.

Yes, God does work in mysterious ways having Jack there to rescue her and also able to sign and communicate with her. Kind of makes him a double knight in shining armour!

OK, it's not a knight, but since I couldn't find a knight emoticon, superman will have to do. I don't think anyone will argue that our Jack is a super man!

Looking forward to more eclipsse!

i had briefly wondered if she was deaf when she didn't respond

i'm sure God will use jack powerfully in this situation

cath

Wow you have me holding my breath, waiting for more. Half way through the post I was thinking she was deaf and that's why she wasn't responding. Can't wait to read more.

kav

Those last two posts were amazing...you have natural talent Girl!

Didn't she her being deaf tho....I wonder if that ties into the case...

Time to wake up Sue, Jack!!!

this is a good one for Jack and Sue!!!!

This is a great story you have going here, Eclipsse. I have been reading with my breath held while sitting on the edge of my seat.

You have a very riveting way of writing. Can't wait to see how this unfolds.

Jill

Thank you all so much for your wonderful feedback - you have made me feel so welcome and given me more confidence. Bless you!

Suesfan - you are very kind, but I don't think I got the pacing right. You guys make it look sooo easy - and it sooo isn't!

Anyway, next bit. I hope you enjoy...


“That’s gonna complicate things. Finding an interpreter on a Sunday night…” He continued. “I’ll call it in, see if we can get someone…”

“No need.” Jack broke in. “I sign… some. I can help, and if I get out of my depth I have a …friend I can call.”

He turned back towards May, who was being loaded into the ambulance.
May – you, he signed. Jack – me. OK?

Much more animated, almost eager, she started to sign, quickly, jerkily, hissing when her movements obviously caused her pain. He missed most of it, getting only repeated please not leave!

“Whoa!” he exclaimed, and then signed - slow down. Not good sign me.

“Ah – Agent Hudson? There is some information we could really use… ”
“OK. Bear with me – I’m not that good at this…” Jack flashed a quick grin at the emergency team.

Using a combination of ASL and gestures, he relayed the paramedics’ questions, and May was soon made more comfortable. Both Frye and his partner, Collier, watched the three-way conversation with interest, and seemed impressed with the fluency of communication. Jack… was just grateful they didn’t know how many mistakes he was making. He had to resort to a lot of fingerspelling, and for one query startled a choked laugh out of her with an (obviously wrong) sign. He still didn’t know what he had actually tried to say, and, thinking about the expression on her face, probably didn’t want to.

Although it didn’t take long, Jack realised that, by the time the paramedics indicated that they had all they needed, his dizziness was back in full force, the nausea was returning, and all he really wanted to do was lie down.

“We need to get going, sir. And, with all due respect to your Federal Agent self; I think you should let us check you out and possibly get yourself X-rayed when we get to the hospital. As it is, you are going to have a spectacular black eye, and are showing symptoms of concussion.”

“I was kinda coming to the same conclusion". Jack turned and swayed, catching himself against the ambulance doorframe. Then the first part of his comment registered. “Black eye?” Jack raised his hand to the right side of his face, and winced. “… oh, I hadn’t noticed.”

The medic smirked, and muttered something about 'these secret agent, hero types...' to his partner as they packed up the ambulance.

“Officer Frye? Do you mind if I give you a statement in the morning? I...”
“You look like week-old milk.” Frye told him, dryly. “White and lumpy.” Both paramedics stifled laughs. Actually, we’ll meet you at the hospital in an hour or so. Your statement can wait, but we’ll need to talk to her as soon as possible.” His voice went suddenly cold. “I want those guys bad. Beating a little girl…” he trailed off. “Anyway, I’d be really obliged if you could help us get at least some basic details… address, contacts. Her family needs to know where she is.”

Jack winced as he was helped into the vehicle. Settling gingerly on the ‘jump seat’ at the back, he looked back at Frye. “I’ll call Sue… that friend I mentioned. You need a better translation service than I can provide at the moment.”

“A pretty good friend, if she is prepared to be dragged to a hospital on a weekend for someone they don’t know..?” Frye’s tone was interrogative.
“The best.” He smiled, not realising he was doing so, and continued. “I might have asked her to come anyway. She has a gift with people; she’ll be able to help.”

“Looking forward to meeting her. See you later.”

love jack#s efforts to sign and make her feel better despite his pain and discmfort

when sue arrives i think she'll be torn between wantiing to help the girl and wanting to check jack is ok

cath

yay sue to the rescue

I sure want to know.

Me too!

Sue to the rescue!

This is great so far!!! Can't wait until Jack calls Sue!!!

Em

Yah, a pretty good friend ... though other names do pop in my head

Looks great. please update soon. i can't wait to see how things turn out.