CATEGORY:  Family, Past, Vignette
RATING:  PG
ARCHIVE:  Suze may have.  Anyone else must ask.

As usual, thanks to the B.A.D. Babes, Helen and Meach
      Spense, November 2001
 
 

NTROSPECTIVE: NEW BEGINNINGS
A CJQ Story
 

Roger "Race" Bannon sat in the small plane with his superior, Phil
Corvin.  Race, a top I-1 agent, was used to perilous operations and
delicate negotiations involved in the shifting kaleidoscope of the
world's powerful countries.

Corvin seemed unusually nervous, much to Race's amusement.  The head
of I-1 was notoriously difficult to rattle.  Race was relaxed, but
not altogether happy to be on this flight either. Although he was
here on this assignment by choice he knew it wasn't going to be
easy.  But still, it was amusing to watch Phil, none-the-less.  Top
agents, like himself and Corvin tended to not be unsettled easily,
but this particular assignment had the entire headquarters on edge.
Its importance was undeniable, and its success rate had turned out to
be unexpectedly low.  In fact, two highly trained, highly successful
agents had gone down in spectacular flames on this one.  Now, the
brass in Washington were getting worried.  Race knew he was truly the
last line of defense on this one.

The small plane touched down at its location – a small Florida island
named Palm Key.

"Now remember," Corvin warned, "let me take the abuse from Dr.
Quest.  From what Agents O'Hara and Andrews said, he's far harder to
deal with than he comes across."  He shook his head as he stepped out
of the plane.  "Odd though.  He's always been very cooperative until
now."  He looked sharply at Race who had followed him out of the
plane.  "You understand?  Since the death of his wife, Dr. Quest has
been reluctant to collaborate with us."

Race just nodded as he grabbed his two large soft leather cases from
inside the plane, and slung a smaller case over his shoulder.  Of
course Dr. Quest was being difficult.  And not only because of the
death of his wife, Race thought, but because unbeknownst to Corvin,
both Agents O'Hara and Andrews detested children.  They had never
hidden their abject dislike of kids to their fellow agents in the
field.  And Corvin's superiors felt they should be the agents in
charge of Dr. Quest's six-year-old son.  Actually, both agents had
been placed here for disciplinary reasons, but Race knew Corvin would
never had allowed it had he known about their feelings towards
children.  However, that small fact had never come out, and Race felt
the kid had probably paid the price.  Unfortunately, those
assignments had also succeeded admirably in ticking of the boy's
father, world-renowned scientist, and I-1's top prize, Dr. Benton
Quest.

In addition, it was a known fact that Dr. Quest had requested
protection for his family, prior to his wife's assassination, and
unfortunately, the men at the top had deemed it unnecessary.  Now,
Dr. Rachel Quest was dead, a huge loss not only to her family, but to
her specific field of study and science in general, and Dr. Benton
Quest resented the protection forced upon him for his son.

No, Race concluded to himself, this man would not want a whole lot to
do with I-1, much less another on-site agent at this point.  Race
took in the comfortable house, with the porch strewn with welcoming
white wicker patio furniture, and the large swing, suspended by
chains from the ceiling, as they approached the door and knocked.  He
also noted with a grin, the parcel of children's toys spread
haphazardly over the deck flooring.

However, his heart sank as he and Corvin were met by a red-haired man
holding a small blond child whose face was turned away from the
newcomers.  The man looked at them without a smile, then gave a tight
nod of acknowledgement to Phil, and a tense comment, "Corvin".  The
look he turned on Race could best be described as a glare.  Race
carefully returned the greeting with a pleasant smile and studied the
pair discreetly.

This must be Dr. Quest.  Who else could he be?  But his appearance
was unexpected.  First off, he was surprisingly young for a man with
his reputation and accreditations.  Race had assumed an older man
with a young wife and child.  He was incorrect.  This man appeared to
be about his age.  He was slim, and appeared in good shape, and had a
neatly trimmed beard.  His neatly pressed khakis, a polo shirt and
loafers could have fit in a business-casual type of office anywhere.
Race had to quickly rearrange his thoughts.  This man just didn't
look the part of one of the top research scientists in the world
today.  His statement was the only part at odds with his appearance;
his face was decidedly grim, and the look in his azure blue eyes made
Race suddenly feel sorry for Corvin.  His interview with this man was
not going to be pleasant.

The little boy appeared to have the same slim build as his father.
However, it was hard to tell for sure as Race had yet to see his
face, as it was buried in his father's shoulder.  The boy clung
tightly to his father's neck in what appeared to be a near-strangle
hold.  The Doctor didn't seem to mind, he was holding tightly onto
the boy himself.

Race felt another sharp stab of anger at Agents O'Hara and Andrews.
Yes, they were good field agents.  Excellent in fact.  But they were
arrogant, as were many agents, in addition to detesting children on
sight.  They were definitely not the right fit for this assignment.
Especially for a six-year-old child who had just lost his mother.

Phil introduced Race, and the agent and scientist briefly shook
hands.  Race could sense that Dr. Quest's attention was not on him,
but rather on Corvin.

Corvin obviously could sense the same thing.  "I understand you
wanted to talk to me?" he queried.

"Yes," the one word was quietly spoken, but Race could hear the
wealth of inflection in the grim comment.  He could also see the
inner battle going on inside the man, who then said quietly to his
son, "Jonny, I need you to wait with Agent Bannon while I talk to Mr.
Corvin."

The child's reaction was instantaneous.  He began crying deep
wrenching sobs, and clung even tighter (if that were possible) to his
father.  "No!" It was a scream.  "No daddy!  I don't want to."  The
tantrum was loud and full-blown, as though the child had been
simmering in silence.  "Don't go away!  Don't leave mmeeee . . ."

The last comment tore at Race's heart, and elevated his assessment of
the boy's reaction from the standard `I want my own way' temper-
tantrum to the emotional reaction of a truly terrified child.  He
could see the indecision on the doctor's face, as the boy continued
wailing and clutching at his father.  Race was beginning to get a
feel for what Agents O'Hara and Andrews had been doing.  Race himself
had been told to make sure Dr. Quest had no distractions.  And he had
no doubt that those two agents had seen Jonny as only a
distraction.  `Good lord', Race thought, `if this is what has been
happening, no wonder Dr. Quest is justifiably angry.'

"Here, I'll take him," Race said calmly, dropping his bags
unceremoniously on the floor of the front hall and reaching for the
child.  Both Dr. Quest and Corvin looked at him in surprise as
Jonny's wailing increased another decibel.  Corvin winced.

Race's fury at O'Hara and Andrews increased another notch as he
gently began to disengage the little boy from his father.  This was
definitely more than a normal grief reaction.  Race had read the file
on the assassination of Rachel Quest.  To a six-year-old, it would
definitely seem that she had just left and not come back.  Separating
this kid from his father for even a short amount of time would be
tramatic.  And given what he thought Andrews and O'Hara had done,
keeping `distractions' from the scientist, the problem was just
compounded.  This kid needed TLC, not discipline.

The little boy fought hard to keep from leaving his father.  Race
could tell it was more desperation than anger, as he ignored the
flying fists and kicking feet.  Dr. Quest helped, but Race could see
his heart wasn't in it.  "It's just for a few minutes, son," Benton
said firmly, but Race could see the anxiety in his face and eyes.

"Go on," Race calmly urged the scientist as he hid a wince as another
kick connected with his abdomen.  "Leave him to me.  We'll be fine."
This kid was like trying to hold onto a slippery eel.

The scientist nodded slowly, then motioned for Corvin to follow him,
obviously uncomfortable leaving his hysterical son with a total
stranger.

Jonny didn't calm down, but his strength was waning.  Race could hold
onto him now.  This poor kid was absolutely exhausted.  Race suddenly
wondered how much sleep the little boy was getting.  Or his father
for that matter.  This poor kid had some serious issues.

Now, easily holding onto the wearily struggling child, Race headed
down the hall, looking for someplace to wait with the kid that wasn't
the front hall.  As he felt yet another fist connect tiredly with his
back, he thought with a grin, this kid has heart.  He's exhausted and
terrified, and still he's fighting.

After poking his head into a couple of rooms, one a den, the other
obviously an office, Race found Jonny's room.  The cheerful room was
a cool blue with white trim, and was a typical young child's room.
Toys and books were strewn everywhere, and a large, comfortable arm
chair complete with footstool was set in the corner under the
window.  Race deposited the still howling child in the chair's
depths, and turned to look about the scattered toys for something to
distract the boy.  Almost hidden under the bed, only a corner
showing, Race spotted a worn book.  He pulled it out and saw it was a
well used copy of `The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe".  Opening
it, he saw the inscription, `to Jonny from Mommy and Daddy – Happy,
happy birthday'.  This book had been well loved.

He turned back to the weakly crying child, only to find him sliding
off the chair and starting to head for the door.

"Hey, hey!  Whoa there, kiddo!"  Race grabbed the boy as he tried to
scoot by.  "Where're you going?"

Jonny tried to fight off Race's hands, but was too tired to pose any
real problem to the agent.  "I want Daddy!"  Jonny's cries rose in
desperation as he struggled.

Where did this kid get his reserves of stamina, Race thought.  He
should have practically been comatose by this time.  Race knelt down,
putting the book on the floor, and held the shaking boy by the
shoulders, and looked him in the eye.

"Now, what are you worried about?" Race asked calmly.  As if I didn't
know, he thought to himself.

"D..d..ad..d..y," Jonny stuttered, tears streaming down his face.

"What about him?"  Race asked matter-of-factly.

"He's gone.  He's not going to come back."  This sparked a fresh wave
of body-wracking sobs.

`Now, why would you think that?"  Race asked logically.

The little boy looked at him in surprise.  "Be-because Mommy went
away and never came ba-back."

"But you're Dad came back, didn't he?"

Jonny's brow furrowed for a moment as he slowly nodded, his small
body still shaking with sobs.

Race continued.  "Then don't you think he'll probably come back to
you, since he's still in the house?"

Race could see this made sense to the child, but that he wasn't
completely convinced.  He mentally dammed the other to agents yet
again.  "Now, you won't be able to see him until he's done talking to
Mr. Corvin, so why don't you pick someplace for us to wait until he's
done?"  Race suggested.  He shifted his hold away from the boy's
shoulders to holding firmly onto his hand, and straightened
up.  "Now, where shall we wait?"

Race expected to be led to the chair in the corner of the room, but
instead, the little boy, still crying quietly, tugged him towards the
door to the hall.  Race quickly grabbed the worn book off the floor,
and against his better judgment, allowed himself to be led out the
door and down the hall.  Race hoped they weren't heading for the
lab.  He really didn't like the possibility of separating the child
from his father yet again.

But to his surprise, the room they entered was obviously Dr. Quest's
bedroom.  Race felt a stab of unease.  This was a private room, and
even if Jonny was welcome here, Race doubted he was.  But before he
could suggest another possibility, Jonny abruptly pulled away from
him and flung himself on the big bed with a fresh flurry of sobs.
The little boy, clearly at the end of his endurance, buried his face
in the quilt and wrapped his arms protectively around his head.

Race just let him be, and pulled a wing chair up within reach of the
bed, sat down, opened the book and began to read.  He could see the
child begin to relax as the familiar words washed over him.  Keeping
his tone soft while he read, Race kept an eye on the boy.  He could
see as the crying and shaking slowed, finally halting completely as
Jonny dropped into an exhausted sleep.  Without changing his tone or
missing a word, Race reached over and carefully covered the little
boy with the comforter on the foot of the bed.

Settling back into his chair, he continued to read, knowing full well
from his experience with his own daughter (who was now with his ex-
wife), that if he stopped, Jonny was likely to wake, and the cycle
would begin all over again.

It really wasn't that long, only about twenty-five minutes or so
before Dr. Quest reappeared.  Race could see the worried statement
change to one of amazement as he entered the room and took in the
scene.  "How on earth did you ever get him down for a nap?"  he said
after a brief moment of surprised silence.

Race smiled calmly and shut the book.  "I told him that he couldn't
see you until you were finished talking to Mr. Corvin, but that we
could wait where ever he wanted to and he chose your room.  He just
crawled up on your bed and cried.  I found this book in his room---it
looked like a favorite.  So I just started to read, and he gradually
calmed down and finally fell asleep.  He was a pretty tired boy.  I
hope I didn't overstep any boundaries."

"No, you didn't overstep anything."  Race noted with amusement Dr.
Quest's amazement as he shook his head and continued, "Jonny hasn't
slept more than a couple of hours at a time since his mother
died . . . And that book was her favorite."

Dr. Quest turned to look thoughtfully at Race.  Race thought it was
probably the first time that the scientist has really looked at him.
He could practically see the man's mind working, as he began to
reevaluate the new agent in his household.

"Would you care to join me in the kitchen for a cup of coffee?" Dr.
Quest asked tentatively.

Geneva, thought Race with amusement.  And the peace accord
begins.  "Sounds great."  He got up quietly.  "What about Jonny?"

Dr. Quest looked at his peacefully sleeping son in amazement once
again, and said, "Just leave him.  He desperately needs the sleep,"
he finished, confirming Race's earlier supposition.

They sat down at the kitchen table, and quietly drank their coffee.
Race broached the subject of a plan he'd been thinking about while
waiting for Dr. Quest to reappear.  He wanted to give Jonny his
lessons in a quiet corner of the lab while Dr. Quest worked, for
awhile.  His thought was that if Jonny could see his father, he might
relax a bit.  Dr. Quest looked very surprised, then thoughtful, and
gave his permission.  Race mentally dammed O'Hara and Andrews to the
nether reaches one more time, as he watched the scientist's
reaction.  But, at the same time, Race could sense the man beginning
to relax.

Dr. Quest asked him about his background.  He could see the
scientist's surprise once again as he explained about his university
degrees.  By the time Jonny sleepily joined them several hours later,
the thaw was near completion, and they were comfortably talking.
Trust was still far away, but the overtures had been made.

Jonny climbed up onto his father's lap, yawning.

"Have a good sleep?"  Dr. Quest asked his son with a slight smile, as
he put his arms around him and gave the little boy a hug.  Race was
amazed at the change in the man when he interacted with his son.  He
was a truly different person.

"Uh-huh," Jonny responded, clearly not completely awake.

Dr. Quest began, "Agent Bannon,"

"Race," Race corrected immediately.

Dr. Quest laughed.  Race almost jumped in surprise at the sound.

"Race," Dr. Quest amended, "suggested that he give you your lessons
in a corner of my lab.  It's fine with me.  Is that all right with
you?"

Jonny's eyes got big as he looked at his father.  "Uh-huh!" he said
again, this time in surprised agreement.

"Thank Agent Ban . . . Race," Dr. Quest instructed his son.

The little boy looked over at agent.  "Thank you," he said softly,
with a sweet, tentative smile.

Race got the feeling that if this kid really grinned, he could light
up the day.  This assignment might not be so bad after all, he
thought.