As conferences went, it was “one to die for,” as her envious colleagues had gushed. This she knew. Several of the world’s premier surgeons would have gladly forfeited a year’s salary (or two) for the opportunity to merely occupy the same space as the iconic Neurosurgeon, who in addition to being her mentor was also a dear friend. But for newly married Dr. Sabrina DeLane Cassadine Bauer, the nighttime skyline of London now holding her restless gaze was just another glistening backdrop; the panel she was moderating, at the renown surgeon’s request, just another gathering.
The melodic, synthesized version of Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries served to halt any approaching feelings of malaise and for the first time that day put a smile of genuine joy upon her face.
“Well, this is a surprise! Most pleasant,” she beamed, “but definitely a surprise.”
“You’re still up.” Jack Bauer’s voice held the faintest hint of amusement.
Silently, he began the mental countdown of how long before his new bride’s euphoria would give way to alarm. His wife hailed from one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in the world; as a result, ‘surprises’ of any sort were strongly discouraged. This, the steely Federal Agent discovered in the early stages of their relationship when, in an attempt to ensure they would be afforded a weekend of uninterrupted carnal bliss, he used his connections at CTU to have the signal to the beautiful surgeon’s cell phone deactivated. What they got instead less than an hour after her arrival was a cadre of armed Russian sentries storming Jack’s modest Los Angeles home.
“Yeah,” Sabrina sighed as she stretched out across the bed, “too tired to go out yet too wired to sleep. Again.” The moment the last comment passed her lips Sabrina made a face. It was futile to even think about hoping it had gotten past Jack.
“You having trouble sleeping, ‘Bri?”
The concern in Jack’s voice was evident to Sabrina. As was the censure. On more than one occasion he had expressed his displeasure with her grueling O.R. and conference schedule. To which the willful surgeon had informed him the skills she was in possession of were neither amassed nor honed within a mere eight hour work day; while her hours seemed inhumane to some (and often were), she knew her limits. And if she trusted him to return home to her all the while placing himself in harm’s way on an almost continual basis, he needed to afford her the same faith.
“Yes,” she answered. “But it’s nothing…physical.” The silence on the other end was evidence her response had not met with his satisfaction. “It’s not serious, Jack. Really.” Absently gnawing at her bottom lip, Sabrina was unsure of just how much to reveal. She already felt like a fool; the last thing she wanted was her own husband to think the same!
“I’m waiting, ‘Bri.”
“I can’t sleep,” she exhaled the admission, “because you’re not here.” Eyes closed, she struggled to banish the voices desperate to mock her for daring to lay herself bare before him. “I didn’t think something as conversant as the sound of your breathing as I drift off to sleep, or waking to the sound of your voice…these seemingly ordinary things, they’re now beyond sublime to me.” She forced a laugh, seeking to mask her nervousness. “Now that I don’t have access to them.”
“Babe,” Jack soothed. Although not face to face, of its own volition, his hand darted out, as if to stroke her cheek. The pull, the need to claim her was that visceral. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I thought about it,” she admitted softly. “But there’s that little matter of the whole eight hour time difference… Speaking of which,” she glanced at the designer timepiece adorning her left wrist, “I need to let you go. I’m sure if things aren’t already Batman crazy, they soon will be!”
“That’s ‘batshit crazy,’ Babe,” he corrected her, chuckling. “So, you’re about to call it a night then?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, surprised she actually was beginning to feel sleepy. “Believe it or not, I’m not even going to undress. I’m going to sleep just like this; fully clothed, right atop the covers.” She smiled. “The sound your voice having to suffice for a goodnight kiss.”
“If it’s a kiss my woman wants, then her wish is my command,” Jack grinned.
“What do you mean?” she queried, stifling a yawn.
“Come answer the door and find out…”
“Jack,” Sabrina warned, slowly rising from the bed, “do not tease me…”
Moments later, she swung open the door to her Penthouse suite to find her ‘wish’ in the flesh. A knowing smile tickling the corner of a mouth she longed to do nothing more than ravish at that very moment.
“What are…you’re…you’re here?”
“Hey, I figured it was finally about time I see what all the fuss was about when it came to the family jet,” he shrugged.
Before the laugh even fell from his lips, an overjoyed Sabrina launched herself into his arms, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Jack made no attempt to move them inside the suite’s foyer; instead, he reveled in the press of her body against his, her need and love for him made so very evident in the faint ripples he could feel dance along her frame as he swept his hands across the expanse of her back. When the tremors subsided, gently he drew back and caressed her face. Gingerly, he traced the outline of her lips with the pad of his thumb.
“I’m here,” he murmured, a loving smile adorning his ruggedly handsome features, “because I missed my wife.”