Blood List(48)

Gene had been shaking hands and passing out business cards when he had paused so he could listen to Sam. To those without a COM it looked like he was staring off into space, listening to nothing. He punched the air triumphantly. "Saddle up, people!"

Carl gave some final instructions to the cops in charge of retrieving the rest of the documents. Doug and Jerri stuffed their briefcases with files, folders, and laptop computers. Marty, his face pink and shiny, missing both eyebrows and most of his moustache, disentangled himself from the local Bureau guys. Paul Renner sat in the SUV, under guard.



* * *



January 9th, 9:52 PM EST; JFK International Airport; New York, New York.



Ninety minutes later Paul found himself on yet another small commercial jet as it taxied toward the runway at J.F.K. Gene and Marty sat near the front, across the aisle from each other. A small Chinese man had offered his front-row seat to Doug. This put him by himself at the front of the cabin, but it gave him a great deal more leg room. Carl was stuck all the way in the back by himself. Jerri switched seats with a businessman to sit next to Paul.

"That was a pretty crazy day." Jerri sighed and sank into the window seat. Paul took note of the frown on her reflection as she looked out the window. "I hate it when all I can see is wing." She turned back and glanced at Paul's hands, then away. "That was an amazing thing you did today."

Paul gingerly lowered himself into his seat. "If you say so. I just did what anyone else would've done, if they could." He sighed in relief as the chair took the brunt of the pressure off his battered body. As if it were waiting for him to get seated, the fasten seatbelt sign came on.

"I don't know about that," Jerri said. "Marty hates you. He really, really hates you, and you know it. But you put yourself on the line for him. I mean, your ribs aren't even healed from your fight with Gene, and you mangled your hands." The plane rolled away from the gate.

Paul turned his hands palms-up with a chuckle. "I think 'mangled' is a bit exaggerated." His palms were red, scraped, and blistered. The EMTs had washed out as much of the grit as they could, and although it stung like hell and itched like crazy, it looked a lot worse that it was. "Like I said, I don't think I did anything that anyone else wouldn't have done."

"I don't know," Jerri said. "It just doesn't fit with what we know about you. You were a hero today. I wouldn't have expected it."

"Agent Bates," Paul said. "Don't ever make the mistake of thinking I'm not the bad guy. People who get in my way get hurt. We just happen to be headed in the same direction." Punctuating his point, the plane accelerated down the runway.

"You can't be all bad," Jerri said with a tiny smile. "You didn't kill Carl or me when you got the jump on us, you didn't kill Gene after he broke your ribs, and you rescued Carl and Marty today. Why?" she asked. "What makes you tick? What led you down the path to D Street?"

Paul wondered if her curiosity was genuine. "You first. What makes a pretty little Irish girl grow up to be an FBI agent?" The landing gear left the runway, and they were airborne.

"Ugh," she said. "Calling me 'pretty little' should earn you a punch in the mouth. I deal with sexist bullshit twenty-four-seven."

"Well, you're not exactly large, and you're attractive. And I don't buy into people getting offended by the truth."

"I'm not offended," Jerri said. "But being a woman in a male-dominated field means you can't let people call you 'pretty little' anything."

"Fair enough," Paul said. "So what makes a petite, attractive woman want to join a male-dominated field like the FBI?"

Her cheeks colored a touch. "You can't laugh."

Paul affected his best poker face. "I won't." She said nothing for a long moment. Paul smiled at her. "I said I wouldn't laugh."

The words escaped softly from her mouth. "Agent Scully." A crimson rush covered her face.

Paul almost suppressed a grin. "From the X-Files?"

She nodded, and her cheeks deepened to nearly purple. She replied through clenched teeth. "You said you wouldn't laugh!"

"I'm not laughing." He laughed. "Tell me more."

Paul followed her gaze to the front of the plane. Gene and Marty leaned toward one another, bickering. Doug had leaned his seat back, and he looked to be asleep. Behind them, Carl sat in the back where he plugged away at his PDA, oblivious to the world. "Paul, I swear if you tell anyone—"

"I know how to keep a secret," he said. "Why her?"

"Scully was just so strong and smart. In the turmoil of the whole show, she grounded everything in reality." She looked sheepish. "I wanted to be just like her."