Belle & Jack

"Sure, we all need that, now and again."

***Jack***

He knew that he shouldn't have asked but he also knew, instinctively, that it was his responsibility to fix it, whatever the issue was that he'd caused. The simple thing to so would be to say nothing, the conversation would end, probably for good, and there was a decent chance the entire dynamic of this job would fall into the pattern he'd initially expected, and dreaded. But he wasn't prepared to give up on it yet.

He chanced taking his eyes off the road for a moment when he spoke, looking across at Belle in the passenger seat as she stared straight ahead, her face a mask of discomfort, and he held his gaze there, as long as he dared, hoping to startle her out of whatever trance his question had put her into and he was very happy to see just a hint of that soft smile he'd started to get used to on her face when she turned to face him briefly.

"Yes we do," she said softly.

"You know there's a place not far from the cottage where you're staying that I like to go to when I'm in that kind of mood," he said, shifting his eyes back to the road.

***Belle***

Belle almost couldn't believe it. He'd saved it. And so easily. In the minutes that followed she didn't have to think or talk as he told her about the region they were headed for, even started suggesting some of the things she might like to do while there. She managed to ignore the urge that came after a while to rest her hand on top of his as it lay on the gear shifter in a gesture of the gratitude she felt. And once or twice, she found herself very deliberately looking away from him, worried that he might think she was staring.

For the first time, she allowed herself to acknowledge that she was really looking at him, making judgements about his appearance without thinking about it in advance or really wanting to. But she couldn't ignore her natural reaction to him. Maybe it was that he was so different to Brian, so easy and normal. His short black hair was neat without being fussy and he wore a short, relatively unkempt beard.

***Jack***

He felt her eyes on him as he spoke, glanced in her direction every now and again, and felt a little regret that he couldn't get a really good look at her. Still, it wasn't hard to bat those thoughts aside and focus on the fact that he was glad he'd managed to shake her from whatever funk she'd almost descended into.

Jack was a talker. Anyone who knew him could have told you that. But he also had the self-awareness to know that, sometimes, he talked too much. But he never got that sense with Belle in the car that day, as morning turned to afternoon and they made their way steadily southward.

She was clearly interested, engaged and, as time went by, she talked just as much as he did so that, by the time they passed through the final small town on their route and started out on the narrow, isolated coastal roads that would lead them to their final destination, he knew quite a lot about her. About her family, her interests and hobbies, the foods she liked, the different types of music she liked to listen to depending on her mood.

He'd been driving for nearly five hours and it was starting to get dark so it was no surprise to him that he was feeling tired. Still, he was able to recognize that warm feeling that comes from meeting someone new and enjoying their company, a feeling always amplified when the enjoyment is unexpected and even more so when it's shared.

***

TWO

***

***Belle***

"I think this is it."

Jack spoke over Belle's laughter at the end of the story he'd just been telling her and she perked up. It was pretty dark by then but she could just make out the small cottage coming up on the right. It was the first house they'd seen for maybe ten minutes, first building of any kind.

"It's definitely isolated," she said.

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Absolutely," she said, turning her face to him once more and smiling.

In other circumstances, she could imagine most people not feeling all that enthused as Jack pulled up to the cottage. She knew February in Ireland wasn't going to be tropical but the cold and the rain that hit her as she opened her door were positively icy. And yet, despite everything, despite what had brought her to this place, she was in a good mood.

She didn't resist her mind's acknowledgment of how much Jack had to do with that and she reflected on how good it felt to finally have some luck, to meet a new person who seemed to lack conceit and falseness almost entirely. Someone who she enjoyed talking to.

The cottage was in darkness as they approached. It was a small single story structure, ancient looking to Belle's eye. Jack found the key under a rock next to the front door as if he'd known where it would be and showed her in.

"The landlady said she'd have the heat on for you, so it should be toasty enough. It's a rotten night out," Jack observed as he came in behind her.

She couldn't deny the place felt warm and homely right away. Immediately to the right of the entrance, a door opened to a cozy looking living room with a couch and a couple of large, comfy armchairs and a roaring fire in the hearth. She turned to Jack and smiled.

"What do you think?" he said.

"It's perfect."

He showed her through the small property briefly, leaving her bag in the larger of its two bedrooms. Everything about the place she liked, the more she saw of it, the furnishings plush and thick, the floors creaking softly underfoot. She noted there was almost no technology whatsoever, no TV, no Wi-Fi, just as she'd asked. She chuckled to herself at the thought that places without Wi-Fi even existed.

It was early evening by then and Belle became conscious fairly soon after their arrival that she hadn't eaten in hours. Jack showed her the kitchen, well stocked with food and supplies to last at least a few days.

"Well then, if there's nothing else you need Belle, I'll leave you to it. I'm staying at the hotel back in town," he said, handing her a piece of paper. "This is my number and the number of the hotel, in case you need anything."

"Oh... yeah, great, thanks," Belle said, hoping she was hiding her disappointment. She knew there were at least two bedrooms in the cottage and, even though she knew her agent would have emphasized to the company Jack worked for that she wanted to be alone, she found herself wishing not to be anymore.

"Is everything... alright?" Jack said.

"Yeah... yeah..." Belle replied slowly, trying to think of an excuse. She glanced at her phone in her hand and noticed it had no signal. "It's just... well... I hate to impose Jack but, my phone doesn't have any signal out here. I... I'm just a little worried that I won't be able to contact you if anything..."

"Shit," Jack said, taking out his own phone, "I didn't notice that. Well... shit. I'm really sorry Belle, we should have taken this into account."

"It's OK Jack, don't worry about it." Belle turned away from him. She knew the solution was obvious but she was wary of making the suggestion, worried that it might come across in a way she didn't intend. She heard Jack sigh heavily behind her and turned back to him. "What is it?"

"Listen Belle, I'm really sorry again, I know you came here to be alone and everything, went to great lengths to do it but, maybe the best thing would be if I stayed here, in the other room. I promise I'll stay totally out of your way, you won't even know I'm here. But I'd feel a lot better. I'm responsible for your security and your safety and I don't like the idea of you out here in the middle of nowhere with no way to contact me."

She thought about it but decided against suppressing a smile. In the first place, he was absolutely right about her safety but moreover, regardless of that, she wanted him to stay. All day his presence had made her feel better, less burdened, less focused on her pain.

"What?" he said, obviously noticing her satisfied grin and she thought seriously about telling him what she was thinking, how she was feeling before ultimately deciding against it. It had been a good day, best not do anything that might make things awkward.

"It's nothing Jack, it's fine. Of course, you're right, you should stay in the spare bedroom. And I'll... I'll feel safer knowing you're here. Thank you."

As it had been earlier in the day, her movement to rest her hand softly on his arm was automatic.

***Jack***

Jack felt a strange warmth he hadn't been expecting at the touch of her hand on his arm and she looked up at him, smiling generously.

"Right," he said, "well... I'll just get my stuff from the car and... I'll be out of your hair."

"What about food?"

He'd thought about that but had been hoping she wouldn't worry about it. He was hungry but had a couple of cereal bars in the car that would be enough to tide him over until morning.

It was a strange confusion he felt. On the one hand, he desperately wanted to get out of Belle's way. Whatever she was going through, and there was obviously something, she'd gone to some lengths to plan to be alone and had chosen the most out of the way location to stay. But he allowed himself to acknowledge that he'd thoroughly enjoyed his day with her so far and he knew that he would enjoy sharing dinner with her, spending more time with her.

"Tell you what," she said eventually, evidently noticing his reluctance to answer, "why don't you go get your stuff and get settled and I'll fix us some dinner."

"Honestly Belle, I couldn't impose, really, I'll be fine..."

"Forget it, are you kidding? How could I enjoy my blissful isolation knowing you were in the other room going hungry? Besides, it's easier to cook for two than for one. Go on, I'll get started here."

Dinner was simple but tasty, some kind of pasta dish, and the conversation continued to flow as easily as it had all day. Still, when they were done and they'd finished clearing away the dishes and the pots, Jack didn't want to hang around any longer. By then, he knew he wanted to stay, to sit with her and talk for hours yet, but he knew just as well that he couldn't and, what's more, that he shouldn't. He was here to do a job, and that wasn't it.

"Right then, I'll get out of your way Belle," he said, nodding to her as she took up a comfortable looking position in one of the armchairs pulled close to the still roaring fire. He thought, maybe, he'd seen a little flash of disappointment in her eyes when he said it, but he didn't allow himself to dwell on it. "Thanks again for dinner and... well... just give a shout if you need anything. I'll hear you."

"Right... Thank you Jack. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Belle."

***Belle***

It was a little after nine local time, according to the clock on the wall over the fire, but Belle didn't bother trying to work out what time her body thought it was. All she knew was that she felt both exhausted and wide awake at the same time.

She understood why Jack had left her alone but she still missed him. She understood it wasn't fair on her part to ask him to sit with her, to talk some more. She was paying him to drive and to look after her safety, not to be her companion. But really, she knew she missed him because, now that she was alone again, she knew it wouldn't be long before her mind drifted back to those things he'd helped her to forget all day.

And of course it did drift back. She tried to read but it was only a few minutes before her book was resting on the arm of the chair, her gaze focused absently on the flickering fire, her mind slipping slowly back to her pain.

It had only been seven days since she'd left Brian, after that final confrontation, and it was still raw, festering even. Of course she'd heard rumors over the years but she was so in love with him, so completely trusting of his love for her, that she never took them seriously, never even mentioned them to him.

If it hadn't been for that anonymous phone call, although she vaguely recognized the female voice, she might never have confronted him. He's not who you think he is, the voice said. He's with two blondes and a huge pile of coke in a penthouse suite in the Bellagio right now, the voice said. And it's not the first time, the voice said.

Sitting there, thousands of miles away, in that chair in front of the fire, the pain felt just as real, just as powerful as it had the following day when she asked him about it after he arrived home. The look on his face. He didn't even try to deny it.

He'd pleaded with her, begged her to stay, vowed he'd get help. He was addicted, he said. It wasn't his fault, he said.

And soon the sounds of the crackling fire were joined by her long, slow, heart-rending sobs.

The betrayal was bad enough but it's an awful thing to be made a fool of by someone you love.

***Jack***

Jack had always been a light sleeper and, given the events of the day and the strange location, he knew he'd be awake for some time. He'd read a little but mostly his mind struggled to focus, continually drifting back to an image of Belle. Once or twice he found himself whispering her name, just for the simple pleasure he derived from the sound of it.

Careful now, he told himself.

When he first heard her, he didn't know what it was but the regular, almost rhythmic sound was hard to mistake after a while. He sat up, moving to the edge of his bed, listening intently and thinking, trying to decide what he should do. He threw on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans and crept down the hall, still thinking. He pressed his ear to the door, the sound of Belle's sobbing now clear and powerful.

There were two obvious options. The first, the safest option, was to forget he had heard anything, return to bed and try to sleep as best he could. For a wide range of reasons that he didn't really need to consider, this was the right choice. But the second nagged at him. His mind tried to give him permission to open the door, to suggest that, if she was crying then maybe there was some unknown threat to her safety that he needed to deal with. He knew this was nonsense and brushed it aside but he felt his hand moving to the handle regardless.

He was as gentle as he could be, easing the door open until he could slip quietly into the room. He could see Belle in one of the armchairs. It was angled towards the fire and her back was to him, more or less. She still heard him though and he saw her move her hand to wipe her face as she turned to him.

"I'm sorry Belle... I... I heard... Is there anything I can do for you?" He had no idea what it might be, but he desperately hoped there was something.

***Belle***

She gave him points for not asking 'is everything OK' when it obviously wasn't. And she found herself a little surprised that she didn't really feel any embarrassment, any anxiety that he was standing there. In the world she normally inhabited, allowing someone to see you the way she was now, vulnerable, weak, open, was something she had trained herself, and been trained by others, never to do.

"Sorry I woke you... I... I'm just a little sad," she said, turning back to the fire. She was glad when he took her movement as the invitation she'd intended and he came further into the room, sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of the fire, just opposite her.

She glanced at him briefly as she thought about how remarkable it was that, just as it had been for much of the day, his very presence seemed to calm her. She felt her breathing slow and for the first time since they'd started she felt as if she could control her tears.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he said, casting his own gaze to the fire and then to her. She smiled softly, shaking her head once.

"Something else then," he said, "something to take your mind off it."

The memory came automatically at his words and she told him about it.

"When I was a kid, my dad used to... when I was sad, my dad would tell me stories... to distract me, you know, so I wouldn't think about what was making me sad." She smiled at the memory and saw Jack smiling too.

"So it's a story you want is it?" he said, his smile broadening and he adjusted his legs as if to make himself more comfortable.

And much to her surprise, Belle laughed.

***Jack***

She laughed a lot over the following couple of hours. Jack had always been a good story teller and it was a skill he cherished. But even still, the soft, gentle lilt of her laughter affected him more than an audience ever had before. If he was honest with himself he had to acknowledge that it thrilled him, excited him, made him almost giddy.

She'd moved at some point to the couch and lay down, at his suggestion, so she'd be more comfortable and he sat easily on the floor in front of it. He hoped she might be able to fall asleep there. Slowly, sensing her growing tired, he shifted to a longer, gentler tale, lowering his voice to a soft murmur until, finally, he heard the rhythm of her breathing fall into the gentle pattern of sleep.

He leaned up from his spot on the floor to look at her. She lay tucked up on her side, her head resting softly on a cushion, her chest rising and falling slowly.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," he murmured to himself as every thought in his mind coalesced around the notion that she was, without doubt, the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on.

Careful now, he warned himself again.

She'd changed after dinner into a comfortable looking set of pajamas and he took the blanket that rested on the back of the couch and laid it gently over her. She stirred just slightly as he tucked it around her shoulder and when a gentle moan escaped her lips he felt his heart jump.

"Jack..." she murmured softly, her eyes still closed.

He didn't give it any thought when he felt himself lean slowly over her, placing a soft, gentle kiss on the top of her head.

"Sweet dreams Belle."

***Belle***

She didn't know whether it was the smell or the sound that woke her. As she slowly returned to awareness she noted that, whatever it was, it smelled good.

It took a moment for her to remember why she was waking up on the couch, and that only after she remembered what country she was in. When she did, she smiled at the memory and didn't hesitate to acknowledge that she hadn't had a night's sleep so good since it had happened.

She found Jack in the kitchen, clearly already showered and dressed for the day, preparing breakfast.

"Good morning," he said cheerily, hearing her approach, "breakfast is on. Sausages and bacon, an Irish tradition. I probably should have asked if..."

"Sounds great, thanks Jack," she replied, smiling warmly.

"How'd you sleep?" he said. "I thought about waking you so you could get a proper sleep in your bed, but you looked fairly comfortable where you were."

"I think you made the right choice," she acknowledged, "thanks. I slept great."

She took a seat at the table and noticed he'd already laid out orange juice and a pot of coffee and he turned now and poured her a cup.

"Thank you Jack," she said again. "You know when I asked for a driver slash bodyguard, I didn't think I'd get a cook into the bargain as well."

"Ha! Well, we always try to go the extra mile for our clients."

"I'll say," she said and paused for a long moment. "Listen Jack..." she began again, not fully sure what she wanted to say beyond thank you as her memories of the night before became clearer in her mind.

"It's OK Belle, really," he said, returning to the table with plates of food and taking a seat opposite her, "happy to help."

***Jack***

"So, any plans for today?" he asked, eager to change the subject. He didn't regret going to her when he'd heard her crying the night before but he worried that Belle might be feeling a little embarrassed. Sure, they'd enjoyed each other's company during the day but that was a long way from feeling comfortable allowing someone you barely knew to see you at your most vulnerable.