Walk a Mile

by Sarah Madison

  Jerry sighed. He set the coffee containers carefully down on the table and opened the bag. He’d purchased all his favorites, but now, looking at the contents, the thought of eating something sweet for breakfast nauseated him. What he wouldn’t give right now for a big plate of bacon and eggs…. Well, maybe Flynn would like what he brought. He pushed the bag aside. “I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep. Not with all the background chatter, not to mention how much your neck hurts. Jesus. No wonder you never sleep.” As for the phone, how could he explain it? He’d needed a break. He’d needed to be unobtainable for a while.

  Flynn’s propensity for early morning runs made a lot more sense now. The rhythmic movement helped shut out the noise somehow. Jerry hadn’t minded the exercise either, not when his body, for the most part, moved like a well-oiled machine. The morning jog had been effortless for once, and he’d gone nearly two miles before he realized it. Of course, then he’d had to jog all the way back.

  Once he was up and moving, it had been a lot easier to ignore the problems in Flynn’s damaged shoulder as well.

  Lying in bed that morning even another second had been impossible. Not with the muscles in his neck protesting loudly at the position. Either it was the crappy bed in the hotel, or it was Flynn’s body, but Jerry felt as though he’d hardly gotten a wink of sleep. Since he’d been up, the headache lodged in the back of his skull was at least bearable now. How Flynn managed to live like this all the time was beyond him. The notion that he might have to live like this the rest of his life was horribly depressing. No matter who ended up in what body, however, something had to be done about Flynn’s old injuries. All of them.

  “I just needed some breathing space, okay?”

  Apparently, it was not okay. “Look, believe me, I get it. More than anyone else on the planet, I get it. But you can’t just cut out like that and not take the phone with you. I never ran off without a way for you to contact me.” What if you’d gotten into trouble?

  “Yeah, I know. You always took your phone with you.”

  “Don’t think I didn’t know you wanted to call me when I was out too long or too late, either.” The grin that spread across his face was like one of those weird morphing technologies where the features were Jerry’s but the expression was pure Flynn. It softened, even as Jerry watched. “I appreciate the fact that you give me the space I need. Even when I’m being a jerk about it.”

  “Especially when you’re being a jerk about it.”

  Flynn snorted, the sound somewhere between irritated and mollified, and he took a seat at the table, pulling the bag of pastries close to peer inside.

  “This stuff will kill you.” His voice was mild as he pulled out a cheese Danish and took a bite. Murmuring approval, he held the pastry in his mouth as he took the lid off a cup of coffee and added some creamer.

  “Yeah. I know. I keep saying I’m going to do something about my diet and clean up my act, but then we have another crappy day at work and I think ‘the hell with it’ and grab what I can to eat.” He joined Flynn at the table, reaching for his own cup of coffee. “However, I would have killed Marie Antoinette, too.”

  “You know she didn’t actually say ‘let them eat cake.’” Flynn licked confectioner’s sugar off his fingers.

  Jerry gave him the fish-eye. “You forget who you’re talking to.”

  Flynn went still, and then he forced a smile. “I forget nothing at the moment.” He tapped the side of his temple. Changing the subject, he went on. “You used to cook for us.” There was no censure in Flynn’s voice, merely a statement of fact. “Good stuff. Healthy stuff. I think I even ate something green every now and then.”

  “Well, our caseload has picked up since we’ve become the Super Agents. We’re not home as much as we used to be.”

  Flynn nodded and took a sip from his cup. The face he made was that of a little boy tasting something sour, complete with the sticking out of his tongue. Cautiously, he added a little sugar and tried again. After a second sip, he dumped the rest of the packet of sugar in. “You ever think about doing something else?”

  “Sometimes. You?”

  Flynn’s smile was decidedly crooked. “Not really.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Jerry smiled back at him. As if an adrenaline junkie like Flynn could ever give up the Bureau. There were days, however, when working at a nice, quiet library seemed like a good idea to Jerry.

  I’ve got to tell him about Zimmerman’s offer eventually. Not just now—it’s not even thinkable at the moment, not with the way things are—The rest of Flynn’s thoughts were shrouded by the soundproof booth.

  “What next?” Flynn asked. He was so cool, so relaxed, that if wasn’t for the telepathy, Jerry would have never have known Flynn was keeping secrets from him.

  Jerry gave a lopsided shrug, understanding now why Flynn usually did the one-shoulder lift. All this time he’d thought it was just a sexy move on Flynn’s part. “We finish breakfast, I take a quick shower. Then back to the museum. We don’t really need to head back to Quantico today, right? I mean, I can fake being you with regards to your cases, but not on the personal stuff.” Unless, of course, Flynn wanted to fill him in.

  Flynn’s mouth twisted to one side. “I’m not sure you can fake it on the cases either. Your database is in this head now.”

  Jerry took a sip of coffee and pursed his lips. Far too sweet for his liking. He’d have to try it without sugar next time. “Well, this is where it gets interesting. Because the data is in that processor.” He nodded at Flynn’s head. “In theory, you should be able to remember everything I know because it’s all in the whatchamacall’ems, the engrams.” Dear Lord, how did the average person manage? Jerry hated not having every piece of information he needed at his fingertips. “Do you remember my memories as well as yours?”

  Flynn’s face fell. No, that wasn’t really an adequate description. More like his face melted, features changing suddenly as dismay overtook him. He didn’t have to say anything—the images came pouring into Jerry’s mind. Flynn as a young boy sitting on a couch, playing video games with another boy, the two of them bumping shoulders as they worked joysticks furiously and yelled with glee at the television screen. Flynn, a three-day beard frosted with ice crystals, standing in front of a tent pitched in snow, arguing with another man similarly bundled against the cold. Flynn, shouting at someone to drop his weapon, only the armed man spun and fired his gun instead. There was a moment of searing pain as Flynn fired back, the two of them falling to the ground.

  “Flynn!” Jerry pushed his chair back and hurried over to him, taking him by the arm. He recognized the “falling into the deep well” of memory. It had never occurred to him to tell Flynn how to control it—it was something he’d lived with his entire life. “Deep breath, buddy. Take a deep breath.”

  Flynn’s eyes, no longer hazel but Atlantic Ocean-blue, stared at him blankly.

  “Snap out of it. They’re just memories.” He gave Flynn’s arm a little shake.

  Flynn inhaled sharply and, by sheer force of will, controlled his expression again. The soundproofing enveloped him like some spider’s web, impossible to scrape off, clinging to his entire body.

  “Well.” His voice was dull, resigned. “I guess that answers the question of what I can remember. My memories, but not yours, and with full-on Technicolor perfection. How the hell do you live like this?”

  “I could ask you the same. You do get used to it, though.” Jerry shrugged again. “There are always new memories coming in. You don’t exactly lose the previous ones, but you can deep-six them if you don’t think about them.” The hard part was not thinking about certain memories. Especially the ones you wished you could forget.

  Flynn blew his breath out, leaning back in his chair. “Sorry. I just got overwhelmed all of a sudden.”

  Jerry knew the feeling well. “It happens. And no, I don’t remember everything all the time just like that. It’s just when I do remember something, it
comes back to me in that fashion—like watching a movie.”

  “Okay, you win. It sucks to be you.”

  “What? No, wait, telepathy is much worse than total recall! People are small, and mean, and petty, and sometimes downright heartbreaking. I’ve only been in your body a short time, and I’m so goddamned depressed.” It was true. Flynn’s comments about offing himself no longer seemed like a joke.

  The crooked smile on Flynn’s face was downright attractive, if Jerry did say so himself. “Yeah.” His voice was soft. “But sometimes people can be wonderful too. Funny. Brave. Like shooting stars. Incandescent.”

  “I see you’ve been using that Word-A-Day calendar I gave you for Christmas.” That’s right, retreat into sarcasm. It had always been his favorite line of defense. “I still say you win in the sucky superpower department.”

  “Ah, but the telepathy was an accident, like Spiderman and the toxic spider bite. You were born this way.”

  “And that makes it worse somehow? Makes me more a freak than if it was something acquired against my will?”

  Flynn went rigid. His sudden disappearance under the shroud of the soundproof booth was so abrupt Jerry was left wondering what the hell happened. Obviously he was missing something, damn it. What good was telepathy if it didn’t give him all the answers he needed?

  Flynn’s cell phone began to buzz on the tabletop, the force of its vibration causing it to crawl slowly sideways. The two of them eyed it as though it might be Spiderman’s toxic arachnid.

  “You going to answer that?” Flynn asked as the phone continued to buzz and shift in a careful circle.

  “Oh, right.” Jerry flushed inexplicably. He’d forgotten “Flynn” needed to answer his phone. He fumbled for it and opened the screen before it could roll over into voice mail.

  “John.” Nancy’s voice was taut with suppressed emotion. “You’re not going to believe this, but there was a break-in at the museum last night.”

  “What?” He couldn’t help it. His voice rose sharply in response.

  Who is it? What’s going on? Flynn’s thoughts crowded in on him, and he made a slashing motion with his hand, one Flynn had made to him on numerous, similar occasions.

  “Last night. A break-in. More specifically, my office. I can’t help but think it’s tied in with your visit yesterday and the artifact. You said the matching one had been stolen as well, right?”

  “Tell me they didn’t get the artifact.” Jerry’s heart sank like a lead weight into his belly. No. This couldn’t be happening. His eyes met Flynn’s. The stark look of horror on his face was shocking. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing himself as a ghost. It was wrong, all wrong.

  Nancy dropped her voice, as though afraid someone might overhear her. “Well, that’s just it. I got worried after you mentioned the other one was stolen, so I took our artifact home with me last night. I know, I broke all kinds of rules, but it would seem my instincts were right, yes?”

  Relief swamped him so hard, he nearly swayed with it. Break-in, he mouthed at Flynn. Artifact safe.

  Flynn made to take the phone from him but Jerry smacked his hand away. “You need to be careful. Someone might realize you have it. Seriously, Nancy, I don’t think it’s safe for you to keep it at your house.”

  What the fuck? Flynn’s alarm was overwhelming, and Jerry cut him off again so he could concentrate on what Nancy was saying.

  “I agree, but to be honest, I have no idea why anyone would find these boxes so valuable in the first place. In the meantime, I’m letting the police think nothing was taken. Well, nothing was taken, so I’m not holding out on them by much, right?”

  Jerry felt the unease behind her seeming confidence. “You didn’t tell them about the previous robbery?”

  “I didn’t know what to tell them. I went with my gut, which was to say nothing about the other artifact until I could talk to you. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  Jerry rubbed the small space between his eyebrows. “I’m not sure I know the answer to that. As far as I can tell, there’s no intrinsic value to these boxes.” Well, aside from the supernatural powers bit. Which, apparently, someone else knew about.

  “Well, someone wants them badly, it would seem.”

  If she has the box and someone is looking for it, she’s in danger. Flynn’s anxiety for Nancy had a prickly, smoky flavor to it.

  Jerry nodded without thinking. “Nancy, someone is sure to figure out you have the box. I don’t think you’re safe.”

  “I know. You’re right.” Nancy’s ready capitulation surprised him. He’d expected someone as independent and strong as Nancy to give him all sorts of stupid reasons as to why she’d be fine. “Whoever it was managed to bypass the alarm systems. We wouldn’t even have known about the break-in except my office was trashed. There was something almost malicious about that too. Bold, as well. As if they didn’t really care that we knew about the attempted robbery.”

  Jerry didn’t need to be a telepath to know Nancy was rattled.

  “I’m staying with a friend for now. I’m taking every precaution. There’s more to this box than you’re telling me, though.”

  “Yeah,” Jerry admitted. “Sorry, but it’s on a need-to-know basis.”

  “I figured as much.” He heard Nancy’s heart-felt sigh. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’m going to stay off the radar until tomorrow, and then I’ll bring the artifact with me to Killian’s. I’ll give it to you then, okay? After that, it’s your problem.”

  Jerry met Flynn’s glance, worried and tense as he tried to figure out what Nancy was saying. “Why can’t we meet you this morning and take it off your hands?” And here he’d been thinking she was going to be smart about this.

  Nancy cut him off. “I’m going to be in meetings all day, and you need to get back to Quantico. You said so yourself last night.” He felt the hint of amusement as she thought about the conversation at the stairwell. It wasn’t as immediate as if she was present in the room with him, but the suggestion of her emotions was there just the same. Which explained in part, perhaps, why Flynn wouldn’t take his mother’s calls. “Besides, unless we make some sort of public announcement that you now have the box, I’m going to continue to be a target anyway.”

  “Quantico can wait. Your safety is more important.”

  With a frown that demanded compliance, Flynn held out his hand for the phone, but Jerry shook his head and concentrated on what Nancy was saying.

  “I’m thinking the thing to do is for you to tell the press that there was a break-in, but that nothing was taken. We’ll tell them we think the thieves were after a new acquisition, which has now been moved to a safer location, pending an investigation. That will get me off the hook with the thieves. No one needs to know the transfer hasn’t actually taken place yet.”

  “I’ll agree to that only if we make the exchange this morning. The sooner the box is out of your hands, the better I’ll feel. Actually, that’s so devious a plan, it might just work.” It was hard to keep the admiration out of his voice. He caught Flynn staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

  “I learned from the master.” Her voice was gently sardonic.

  “If you feel threatened in any way, however….”

  “You’ll be the first person I call.” Warmth glowed in her voice in a way that made Jerry want to hug her and keep her safe. Great. That was a complication he could do without. “This way I can guarantee you’ll be at Killian’s tomorrow night. I’m counting on you to be there.”

  Jerry promised he’d show up at the bar on time, and ended the call.

  “What the fuck?” Flynn wasn’t just angry, he was livid. He’d sprung to his feet as soon as Jerry had disconnected with Nancy and now glared at him, hands clenched and nostrils flared. “We have to get that artifact away from her now.”

  Jerry explained Nancy’s plan. It was interesting to watch Flynn process the information, outrage and worry slowly being replaced by acceptance as he calmed down. “Okay. I
t’s not a terrible plan.”

  The fact that Flynn was starting to pick up some of Jerry’s mannerisms amused him to no end. Just the same, he might want to keep those thoughts to himself. For practically the first time since they’d met, Jerry realized this wouldn’t be a problem.

  “So what do we do now?” Jerry asked when Flynn had stopped stomping around the room and flopped down in the chair across from him.

  “I don’t like the idea of going back to Quantico and leaving Nancy without anyone to watch her back.” Zimmerman can wait. The rest of Flynn’s thoughts on that line were soundproofed.

  “You think we should shadow Nancy?”

  “That’s a pretty good suggestion, actually.” Flynn slouched down in his seat far enough that he could rest his chin on steepled fingers on his chest. If we can keep eyes on her for the bulk of the day, who knows, in addition to protecting her, we might get a shot at the thieves. And if we get the thieves, we might learn what it is they know about theses boxes too. Flynn kept his gaze focused on Jerry, letting him know that for once, the mental projection was deliberate.

  It was nice being allowed in for a change.

  “She’s going to be surrounded by people most of the day, but if you think she should be watched, then I’m game.” It would be a long, boring stakeout, but then what was new?

  “Right, then.” Flynn jumped out of the chair, moving rapidly about the room again. “We’ll stay here another night. No point in checking out just yet. You brought your camera? It might come in handy for surveillance.”

  Jerry stood up more slowly. “And to think you mocked me for overpacking.”

  Flynn leaned down to grab his duffle and flashed a smile over his shoulder. How could Jerry have ever thought Flynn was a blank wall? His expressions were just more subtle than Jerry’s. When you knew what to watch for, you could see a myriad of things going on behind Flynn’s eyes.

  When Flynn turned back to sort through the bag, looking for the camera, the fabric of Jerry’s favorite slacks pulled tight across Flynn’s ass. While it was odd seeing himself from this perspective, Jerry felt a decided lift of his cock as it twitched in pleased recognition. Damn, that was just plain hot. Okay, he was looking at his own ass, but it was still hot, and “his” cock seemed to be in complete agreement. Jerry took two steps closer, and Flynn almost collided with him when he straightened suddenly and turned.