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Disclaimer: jake 2.0 and all related elements, characters and indicia © Roundtable Entertainment and Viacom Productions, Inc., 2003. All Rights Reserved. All characters and situations-save those created by the authors for use solely on this website-are copyright Roundtable Entertainment and Viacom Productions, Inc.

Author's Note: My first ever attempt at narrative. Thanks to Jake 2.0: the actors, writers, producers and directors, but especially CG and KCT, who bring the characters to life, give them lift, and make us care.

This Perfect World
by JDNO80

Jake Foley's residence
1976 Benton St.
Apt. #19
Washington, D.C. 20007
November 7, 2003
11:05 PM

"Credit, lens, slough, rough, and...furtive!"

Jake couldn't believe it. Diane Hughes, doctor, scholar, future nobel prize winner, was kicking his ass in Boggle. And loving it.

Really loving it.

He didn't mind, though. It was good to see her laugh, good to see her in this mood. Jake snuck a look at her as she tried to find more words. And it came back to him again.

It was the weight of it, really, that struck him. The realization that he could've lost her. Another country, terrorists, it didn't matter—there were too many variables.

If he'd been just a few minutes late, if he'd mistimed his jump, if Steve had fired his gun, if, if, if...

If it'd gone any other way, he would've lost her.

The thought made him ill.

It hit him at odd moments, how his relationship with Diane had grown. How much he'd grown to depend on her, for her medical knowledge, scientific expertise, but...it was more than that.

He'd come to rely on her being there.

Maybe it wasn't fair to her, thinking that way, but for him it was true. He couldn't imagine his life now without her in it—as a friend, confidante, and –

No Jake, he chided himself. Stop. Don't even start that line of thought.

He couldn't imagine his life without her—and he didn't want to.

"Jake? You okay?"

He turned to her. The Boggle game forgotten, he found Diane looking at him, concerned.

Jake decided to come clean. "Yeah, I'm okay. I was just thinking about, um...recently."

She backed off slightly, looking down. Slightly ashamed, she whispered, "Right. Listen...I haven't said a lot about what happened. I can't believe...I mean, Steve was just so...it was nice, and great...even—God, I can't believe I shared churros with that creep! To think— "

Jake interrupted her; he really didn't want to hear anymore. "Diane, there's no need to explain, really."

"No. I need to." She looked him in the eyes. "Please."

Jake remained silent. She stood up and sat on the coffee table opposite him.

"It's been some time since someone, well...looked at me the way Steve did. A nice affirmation, really."

"Of what?"

"That I was—am—a woman. God, that sounds stupid. But it's true."

Jake leaned forward slightly, looking at her directly. How to say this?

"Diane..."

"Wait. If I don't say this now, I never will. Jake, yesterday you told me that no one understands you, not really. Not after everything—the nanites, the training, being an agent. That you could never tell the truth, fully, to those you care about and love."

"Right. I remember." He didn't know where she was going with this.

"Well...I realized something with Steve. That no matter how much we got to know each other, the time and everything...when you were stabbed the first time, I think I set a new land speed record getting to the lab." She winced at the memory.

He chuckled at the image. She composed herself, and continued.

"What I mean is, it goes both ways. What you said to me, about how no one knows you but me...well, it goes both ways. Outside of the lab, the mice, and Fran, I..." she stopped, uncertain how much more she should reveal.

"Diane, it's okay. Really."

She closed her eyes, and decided to just go forward.

"What I mean is, outside of the lab, the mice, Fran, the nanite research...apart from all that, you're the only...it goes both ways, Jake. It does. I just thought you should know."

Jake sat there, stunned. He knew it took a lot for Diane to say that to him. He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently, confidently.

"You're right. It goes both ways."

They looked at each other for some time. Easy, unhurried, and relaxed.

Jake was the one who broke the silence. "I think that's enough Boggle for one night. You know what we should do now?"

Diane leaned forward, propping up her chin in both hands. "What's that?"

He came forward, until his face was inches from hers. Grinning, he said, "Remember a few weeks ago, what we talked about in the lab?"

Her eyes lit up in recognition. "No way! You have it?"

"Yeah." He stood up. "I'll pop it in, and you get comfortable." He walked over to the TV, grabbed a nearby DVD, and put it in the machine. Pressing play, he plopped back onto the couch next to Diane. She had gone to the kitchen and refilled the wine glasses.

"I can't believe you've never seen John Carpenter's The Thing! It's a classic."

"God, considering the way you were raving about it in the lab, it'd better be. Fran couldn't stop laughing." She handed him a glass of cabernet.

"Right, right...trust me. You'll love it. There's some great ideas, the science in it...as well as some genuinely scary scenes, so if you're jumpy, you know, I'm right here." He tried to keep a straight face, but failed.

She smiled—a full, gleaming smile—and smacked him on the shoulder. "You wish."

Jake leaned back. A great movie, Diane next to him, and a new understanding between them.

Thankfully, it did go both ways.

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