Even Lovers Drown CH 36

Jake was still smiling to himself as he walked out of his office. He turned down a few corridors and headed to an inner bank of elevators. He pressed the button for the middle elevator. When it arrived, he pressed a button to the sub-basement levels.

At B2, it halted. Jake pulled out a key from his wallet and inserted it into an almost unnoticeable lock that had been patterned to blend in with the scrollwork of the button panel. He turned the key and pressed B2 again.

When the doors slid apart, he stepped forward into the cool white glow of R&D Lab D112. He presented his credentials to the guard, signed himself in and went in through the frosted bullet-proofed glass doors.

“Heads up, people, the herder is on deck!” Those closest to him made a very bad attempt at coming to attention - not that it was necessary; they were not military.

Far from it, in fact.

Jake shook his head and kept going. Herding cats. Geeks with attitudes. Jake sighed and began his mid-week walk-through, handing out memos and information as he went.

“There will be a briefing at 0930 tomorrow. That means morning people. It is not open for interpretation, negotiation...” the chorus of voices that were just starting up, died down just as quickly. “It is mandatory. The Senate Intelligence Committee wants a face-to face with some of its best and brightest. End of discussion.”

“Edwards,” this was directed to the tall skinny black-haired gentleman who was concentrating very diligently on his own array of monitors and keyboards.

“Edwards, stop datum pinging the MIT satellite group. It’s interfering with their calculations and projections and they don’t like it.”

“Wusses.” He never even turned his head. “I’d bet they don’t even know it’s me. If they would calibrate the Y-sensors correctly, the datum ping would have no effect. But will they listen to me - no.”

Jake stopped behind him. “You know it’s you and I know it’s you. I’ve covered your ass twice now. Third time, and you’re in time-out. We could use some new faces on the lecturing circuit, you know.”

Edwards swiveled in his chair and faced Jake. “I’d love the chance to molding young minds.” he said with a smile of purely false yet angelic delight on his face.

“Think Dr. Wizard and middle-schoolers.”

Edwards lost the smile while the others laughed. Jake just gave him a meaningful glance; Edwards could be a thorny pain in the ass. It was all part of his rebel image.

Jake continued on, taking and giving individual memos, reminders and requisitions. Eventually, he found himself close to the bottom of his tasks list. “Where’s Davis?”  he asked of no one in particular.

“The Cooler.”  came the answer.

The cooler, as it was called, was part of the central computer system; a partition off the grid diverted for 112’s sole usage  More highly regarded than any other piece of computing power in the lab, it was built inside its own interior section.

The temperature was kept much colder than the rest of the lad, because of the amount of sheer computing power that was drawn into it. Two women in long lab jackets were in there now, standing before a ceiling high wall of lights dials, and other techy looking paraphernalia that Jake knew he had no hopes of understanding. checking and double checking components as they were being changed out, tested and re-calibrated.

“Ladies.” Jake said with genuine pleasure. The older of the two turned to him with a terse smile.

“It’s that time again.” Charlotte Coburn said. She was the senior analyst as well as Team Leader. “We’re a little busy.”

Shireen Davis returned his greetings with a brief smile and returned to her tablet.

“When are you not, Lady Charlotte?” Jake  addressed her by her nickname. She was a rubenesque woman, with golden bronze hair streaking silvered just a touch at the temples and vivid green eyes.

“Sir Jacob.” she replied. “What nonsense have you brought before me today?”

Jake quickly moved to fill her in on the mid-week tasks,  reminding them both of the scheduled meeting. Charlotte was not amused.

“I don’t have time for it.” she said. Before Jake could say anything, she turned to Shireen. “I have a schematic report to finish up that the SecDef needs yesterday;  you’ll have to make my apologies.”

“She no can do.” Jake said. He handed Shireen a manila envelope. “Shireen is on vetting status as of 0900 this morning.”

This automatically dropped Shireen from high-active status to mid-level. Transmitting notes, electronic or otherwise were restricted, as was her access to the Cooler.

“That’s not usual for you to take vetting time.” Charlotte said to Shireen.

Jake said nothing; he knew that Charlotte considered Shireen her right hand, and was generally quick to be annoyed when the opposite proved true. Shireen, on the other hand, had no problem in general in acting as Charlotte’s personal assistant - they worked well together and Charlotte was brilliant and an acknowledge master in her field - but she did kick up and show her independence every once in awhile.

Both highly intelligent and strong willed women, occasionally, they challenged one another but it rarely went to def-con levels. When it did, Jake put on his liaison hat and dropped the threat levels as quickly and as best he could.

Shireen answered with a shrug. She looked tired, Jake thought to himself. Had for a little while now. Maybe she just needs some rest.

“If you like, I’ll see if I can get the time of the meeting pushed back some.”

Charlotte looked at him. “By all means, use some of that infamous charm and see if you can. I’ve got a bank of computer runs scheduled and they need to be monitored...”

“And you have a whole team at your disposal.” Jake reminded her.

She gave him a semi-glacial stare before she stalked off.

Jake stood there and watched her move stiffly away from them. “Is there anything  in particular that’s got her undies in a twist?”

“Not that I know of.” Shireen said. “She’s been like that all week.”

“My sympathies.” Jake said. He looked a little closer. “How about yourself?”

It seemed to Jake that she hesitated just the tiniest bit before meeting his eyes. “I’m doing all right - I mean, other than a little trouble sleeping lately.”

“You sure? I mean, it’s Wednesday, it’s hump day and you’re usually a little brighter than this.”

“Hence, the reason for requesting vet status.”

Something made him want to probe a little deeper. “I see your vet project is for Pope and Associates - how did that come about again?”

She’d already told him about how they’d met at the Corcoran gallery, but she told it again, patiently.  Just as in their first go-round, Jake couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary about the story, but something was setting off tiny alarm bells in the back of his mind.

He’d run a file on OPA of course. He’d run a second one after meeting Olivia Pope for himself. It was said she was a true power-broker; her firm was a popular firm among the D.C. Elite but it was hard to pinpoint just exactly what it was they did. They did have an extensive client base and all of them were very rich, very powerful and very influential on the D.C. Circuits, from politics, lobbyists and businesses.

“It’s a security pipeline issue. They have a guy...”

Jake remembered Olivia’s smile as she had admitted the same.

“..But there’s always something new on the horizon. New tricks to learn, that sort of thing. Less pressure, more - fun.”

Jake wanted to lighten the moment and give Shireen a chance to smile. “You want fun? Why not come over to my place and run some diagnostics on my equipment?”

“Edwards installed your network - he’d take it as a personal insult if I did.”

“But you would be so much more pleasurable to work with than that conceited idiot. Just the view alone would be an improvement.”

There, he’d succeeded. Shireen smiled at him, even if it were a little wicked.

“I’m sure you would think so. Let me guess, it would be even better if I wore a french maid outfit while I worked?”

“You said it, I didn’t it.” He bent his head to hers. “Are you saying you have a french maid outfit?”

“That’s for me to know...” Shireen said with a laugh. “Now let me get back to work and finish up the rest of M’Lady’s stats runs. I’d like to make it out of the Cooler alive.”

At least he’d left her laughing; after he’d left the lab, Jake found himself musing on the exchange. Something was off there, he was sure of it without knowing why.  Jake couldn’t argue with her on her reasons why - and if she didn’t want to discuss it further there was nothing he could do - for the moment, at least.

Maybe he’d just keep a closer eye on her for awhile - just to make sure she was as all right as she was claiming to be.

Maybe he should do the same for Olivia Pope as well.

The rest of Jake’s day was filled with meetings and reviews and what seemed like endless reams of reports. His last duty of the night was to report to Fitz over in the Oval Office.

//**//

This time he accepted the scotch that Fitz offered him gratefully.

“Not that the weekend means what it used to be, but Happy Wednesday.” Fitz said as he sat back on one of the couches.

Jake took the opposite one before raising his glass and taking a long swallow. They  sat in a comfortable silence for a time. He was still thinking about Shireen and her association with Olivia Pope and whether or not he should say anything about it.

“Jake?”

He started, not realizing Fitz had already said his name twice. He looked up guiltily at his friend.

“I’m sorry, sir - my mind was still on work, I guess.”

Fitz smiled at him with understanding. “And with all that’s on your plate, I only added to it. I’m sorry. And I thought we talked about the sir bit.”

Jake shook his head. “We’ve already been over this - Fitz. It’s no problem. I mean that. Olivia Pope is not an extrovert. She stays home most of the time when she’s not working. She works. A lot. There’s something about her I can’t quite pinpoint yet -” his voice trailed off.

Fitz leaned forward. “Like what?”

Jake shook his head. “I’m not sure. She - doesn't seem to be - happy. She fills her hours with work, so much so that she should be exhausted with the hours she keeps, but she doesn’t sleep well at night. Spends a lot of time staring out of her bedroom window.”

It wasn’t that she just was not happy, she was sad, Jake thought. He’d already shared his thoughts on that with the president - Fitz. It hadn’t changed in the last few weeks. That was it, that was what had been troubling his inner alarms.

Olivia was sad and lonely. And as well as he knew Shireen - she was acting pretty much the same. Something nagged at him that he couldn’t pinpoint, but he knew it was there. Women were complicated creatures and now he had two of them sending his inner senses into a heightened alert.

He didn’t know whether or not he should share his opinion with Fitz or not. It wasn’t a very professional or rational reaction he was having and he knew it. But then again, that’s what made him so good at his various jobs, the instinct to go where logic didn’t necessarily follow.  The questions were valid but only in his mind, but he had nothing to base them on just yet.

Jake decided to keep it all to himself, for now.

Decision made, he looked up to see the thoughtful look on Fitz’s face. He wondered what the other man was thinking, and not for the first time wondered what Olivia Pope had done to require watching by the president.

His gaze was caught by Fitz.

“And now you’re wondering why am I keeping tabs on her?” Fitz guessed correctly.

His eyes shifted, became unreadable. “You don’t know her; all you know are pictures and files on her. Olivia has been both an ally to this office as well as an adversary. Who she knows and associates with is an ongoing concern to this administration out of that necessity.” he paused. “There’s also a matter of concern for her health and well-being.”

That explained a lot. No longer employed by the White House in any official capacity, the president was keeping an eye on her for safety concerns.  Jake felt an honesty in that deduction that made it real.

Jake didn’t like politics, steered as far away as he could of them, but they were a given factor in any  decisions made in D.C. He had to take that into consideration as well.

But this was Fitzgerald Grant, he told himself.  A man he had come to know long before the reality of the Oval Office and he owed him not only his loyalty but his life.

He held up a hand. “I’m not asking and I don’t need any explanations from you, Fitz. If you decide this op is necessary, than it is. No questions asked.”

Even though there were a million of those starting to buzz around in his head.