Time Sensitive Target

Part 37 - Isolate and Assimilate

Jase hesitated as the key scratched against the brass of the lock. Was this too bold a move? Should he knock? The tip had already latched into the keyway, probing the first pins along the shear line. There was no sense in knocking now. The door eased open with the whine of underused hinges. There was a soft clatter from the kitchen, a sound of general business rather than shock and surprise. So Paige did expect him to show up at the apartment, at least meaning his presence wouldn't be a nasty surprise.

"Paige?" He called into the shadowy hallway, more to announce his arrival than command her attention. He strode through to the open plan living area, Paige's back and gentle mess of wavy dark hair greeting his eyes from the kitchen.

"You were meant to wait for me," he said placidly. He assessed the small details of the scene. A carrier bag was placed on the counter next to the kettle, which was only just bubbling to a boil. The tap was dripping in uncertainty, it's last user had been so hasty in her façade of nonchalance that it had been abandoned before it was properly turned to a close. An unnecessary number of mugs had been retrieved from the cupboard, more to make noise than to serve an actual purpose. And all the while Paige kept her pose fixated towards the appliance as the water churned inside. She knew she was meant to wait, she didn't want to be stuck in a car with him. Jase couldn't blame her, not really. But still the defiance gnawed at him, she could have had an accident if she was driving evasively. That's not what's really bothering you. She had disobeyed orders. Her relatively innocent act of rebellion could prove troublesome in the future, and he was now in charge of keeping her safe. His duty surpassed her comfort or desires.

Jase hadn't really comprehended what this duty would mean before now. Less than half an hour into his new post and he was already in conflict, as much with Paige as with himself. Who was he meant to be? Master Chief; enforcer; interrogator; protector? Or general security- say nothing, and keep up as best you can? He knew the answer lay somewhere in the middle, yet there was still a part of him that ached to prove he wasn't the bad guy, or at least, the worst guy.

Paige poured the contents of the kettle into a waiting mug and finally turned around. She was pale, paler than she'd seemed in Jordan now she was against the backdrop of normality.

"I didn't know, sorry," she said listlessly. "I'm going to my room." She lifted the mug and began walking around the island, halting when she realised she would have to directly pass Jase. He retreated sideways into the room obligingly. What was he meant to say?

"Paige-" He called before she reached her door. She stopped, staring obstinately at her path ahead rather than turning to face him.

"That can't happen again, do you understand? I'm here to-" monitor you for the CIA, and double cross them to protect you from the real threat of secret government agencies, whilst convincing you you're wanted by dangerous terrorists "-keep you safe." After she nodded meekly and retreated to the sanctuary of her room, he realised how meaningless his words sounded. How laughable that must have been to her- "keep you safe". In her eyes, when had he ever done that?

By eight thirty with dusk well and truly settling over the city, Jase was bored of his silent post. He made a mental reminder to pick up a TV from his place so he wasn't stuck reading through the same pages of Paige's contract every night. He knew he could probably go now, but leaving her alone in the apartment on his first night there seemed like a bad idea. As his stomach groaned it struck him that Paige was probably starving, but too stubborn to leave her room.

"Paige," he leaned his head against the doorframe. "I'm ordering Mexican, do you want anything?" Silence answered him, but he added another meal for good measure anyway. He would have to take a jog to the front gate, only five minutes or so down the road to meet the driver. Jase had almost forgotten about this irritating con of base living. His own home was on Coronado island, with close proximity to both of the naval bases but the luxury of knowing it was entirely his own land with nobody to answer to. Plus all the hassle-free postmates he wanted.

Jase's phone flashed with a delivery notification, and for a moment he considered telling Paige he was heading down to the gates. But... if he slipped out quietly she may never know he was gone and remain safely in her room, it seemed like the far better option.

The night's air was fresh and the wind stung Jase's cheekbone as he eased in to a light jog towards the gate house. He only had to wait a few moments, making inane chit chat with the guard before the food turned up and he began a hasty walk uphill back to the apartment. With each purposeful stride he pondered on the best way to deliver Paige her dinner. Should he leave it by the door, knock, and retreat to the back of the apartment so she could retrieve it without having to be near him? No, that's stupid. He would have to be near her every day. Tomorrow he needed to take her to his house so he could pick up a few bits, and then drive Paige to her medical appointment. Her blood tests showed she was deficient in nearly everything, hence the varied assortment of supplements and vitamins to try to bring her body up to speed. For what was probably the hundredth time, Jase toyed with the idea of relieving Paige of her fear towards him. But he knew he was right in his instinct, it was better for her to resent him forever than to understand the real threat came from one of the most powerful governments in the world.

Jase turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open, shunning his shoes quickly before he turned the corner of the hallway to realise Paige's bedroom door was ajar. He didn't dare push it fully open or peer through the crack to check she was okay. As he turned into the living area he collided into a small frame, soft flesh swiping against his arm before both parties jolted back.

"Sorry," Jase stared down at Paige as she crumbled back, eyes to the floor. Her delicate hand held a glass of water that trembled slightly, gentle ripples disturbing the surface. She showed no signs of replying or trying to move past him, a hesitance Jase seized advantage of.

"I got you a quesadilla, you must be starving," he blocked her path in the hope it would coax her into accepting the food. Still she stood silently. "Do you want to... wait here and I'll put it on a plate, just a sec." Jase moved around her awkwardly, trying not to come into any contact with her body as he slipped through the archway. She can't hole herself up in her room forever. He arranged the food on a plate and set it with cutlery on the coffee table in the living room, before retreating and sorting his own dinner. He'd stand in the kitchen and give her space, she needed to finish her meals and build up her strength. Jase assessed her sinewy frame from behind, even the back of her elbows seemed worryingly thin.

"It's over there. It's chicken, you're not a vegetarian are you?" He said breezily, realising he was probably better off sitting on the island counter to formalise his position and show her he had no intention of moving closer. Paige waited a moment longer before quietly padding across to the couch, the only sound a high pitch ring as she rested the glass on the table next to her dinner.

"Hope Mexican's okay. There's a lot of Mexican places around here, we're right near the border so... You probably don't get much in the UK, huh?" He took a large chomp of his burrito, one of two. Paige didn't respond, gingerly picking up a piece of the quesadilla and biting into it with trepidation.

"Tomorrow when we're up I have to drop by my place before your nurse's appointment, it's on the island so it's not far out. I need to pick up a TV. What do you want to do after the appointment?"
Jase decided direct questions were his best hope of conversation, otherwise he was just talking at her.

"Nothing," she mumbled, piercing salad leaves with the prongs of her fork.

"What about going to get some clothes, you must need some? Or books? There's places on base, but for clothes it's probably better to go into the city." Another moment of silence lingered as Paige chewed carefully. She needed some clothing other than the ill fitting basics she'd been given, but the thought of busy streets and crowds of people made her feel nauseous.

"I don't want to go into the city," she murmured despondently. Jase only just caught her words.

"Ok, well what about... superstores? Target do clothes, I don't know about South Park but Mission Valley should I think. We can do the grocery shopping if you're up to it," Jase wasn't impressed with the "care package" of food left in the apartment. There was no fresh fruit or vegetables, only frozen meals with no semblance of nutritional value.

Paige nodded in agreement. Groceries, supermarkets and clothes shopping; she was assimilating back into normal life. Why did she feel anything but normal? She wondered how many others had roamed fluorescent aisles in an uneasy stupor in San Diego. It seemed like such a military hub, she knew she wouldn't be the first to be afraid of the everyday. Somehow, that made her feel no less isolated than she did.