Muted Trilogy: Mute Part 14

Jemma stifled a yawn. "I'm just gonna finish my typing here and then sleep. I'm still feeling pretty drained from earlier."

"Same here," sent Jack. "I'll see you tomorrow, around my normal time."

"Good night, Jack," she said, turning her focus back toward the computer screen.

"Good night, Jemma."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:.

Testing 123 Jemma stared intently at her computer, her thoughts focused mostly on the patron she could see in her peripheral vision.

She sent Jack a quick message. "We're just sticking with saying, 'Hey,' right?"

He mentally answered from the balcony. "Yep. You try the one you picked, then help me find someone here who is with a guy. I think you were right that this helps our chances of staying hidden if they do hear us, having someone to blame it on."

"Right. Okay," she sent.

Keeping her eyes trained on her monitor, she pictured the patron she was trying to Talk to. She pictured the blonde pixie cut, the blue jeans and black b.u.t.ton-up top, the cowboy boots, blocking out the redheaded woman the patron stood next to.

"Hey," she tried to send, but there was nothing. She didn't hear the echo she did when she sent things to Jack, and she didn't see the woman respond. She tried one more time, just in case: "Hey."

Nothing.

"No luck, Jack," she sent. She saw the patron she'd tried to Talk to coming toward her. "She's coming this way. She has books, so she's probably just checking them out."

"Okay," Jack sent. "I'm keeping an ear out."

"h.e.l.lo," Jemma typed on the tablet as the woman reached the counter, her friend right behind her with her own books. "Ready to check out?"

The woman nodded and handed Jemma her library card. A quick scan revealed her name was Hannah. Jemma checked out her books, and then Hannah stepped aside to let her friend check out.

"Hi," typed the redhead, looking excited about seeing the tablet, and Hannah rolled her eyes at her friend, smirking. "So," she continued, "who were you Talking to when we came up?"

Jemma blinked rapidly, and she felt Jack send an intangible reminder that he was nearby and that she could handle herself even if he wasn't. She made a mental note to figure out how she'd picked that much up from a single pulse of emotion, then typed.

"Sorry. I was thinking," she wrote, the closest she was comfortable to an outright lie; she had definitely been thinking.

"Okay." The woman shrugged, and Jemma continued with the checkout process.

As the women walked away, Jemma added Hannah's name and reading material to her mental image of the woman, combining that with her visual and trying once more.

"Hey."

Still nothing.

"Don't think we can Talk to strangers," she sent to Jack.

"Bad habit to get into, anyway," he said with another of his mental winks. Jemma smiled and shook her head before remembering her Talking had been more obvious than she'd thought.

"We might need to be more careful about Talking in public," she sent. "Either that or I need to practice in front of a mirror and see what my face shows."

"You tend to show everything on your face," sent Jack. "That might be a hard habit to break."

"I do?" Jemma thought of herself as a bit more closed off than most.

"You do," he sent. "I mean, you're quiet, yeah, and you seem like you keep your guard up in public, but as soon as you're talking to someone, it's like you're fully there, and your face shows everything you're feeling, for someone who's watching."

Jemma rubbed the back of her neck, then caught herself, dropping her hands and working on keeping a neutral face. "I'll practice anyway. It's that or stop Talking at work."

Jack sent a mental shrug. "If we let people know we're friends, it's not a big deal, right? Then we don't have to hide it?"

"I haven't heard of friends who can Talk after this little interaction. I don't really want it to look like I was hiding the fact that I was spending a lot of time with you, you know?"

"I understand. I don't want to ask you to be more dishonest than we need to be for now," he sent.

"If we are going to stop hiding that we can Talk," she said, making sure her gaze was fixed on the monitor, hands over the keyboard as if she were trying to figure out what to type, "we may as well go with a more plausible story. Cecily, at least, won't buy that we've been hanging out in secret. She knows I go home to my books."

"What's the more plausible story?" His tone suggested he might know but didn't want to be the one to mention it.

"We could pretend we're dating. People tend to Talk much sooner if they're dating."

"You don't sound very comfortable with that."

"Hold on," she said, catching a glimpse of someone walking toward her. She helped the patron quickly, taking another moment to think before Talking to Jack again. "If we pretend to date, that means we pretend with my family, too. I don't know whether I'm ready for that. They mean well, but they get a little too excited when they hear I'm dating. I stopped telling them anything unless it went further than one date."

"How many times has that happened?" Jack sent mild curiosity along with the question.

Jemma's looked toward the ceiling as she counted. "Three since high school. It hasn't been a primary focus at any point in my life."

"It's good that you've followed your own path," sent Jack. "I know a lot of people who would have just given into the pressure."

"My parents push, but they aren't... I mean, they like that I'm myself, you know?" Jemma glanced around to make sure n.o.body was watching her, then returned her attention to the monitor. "They want me to be happy. They just don't always understand what makes me happy. If I ever came out and said I was gay or didn't have any interest in romance, I believe they'd support me. Since I wouldn't mind being with the right someone, they still bring it up, have trouble understanding that even though it isn't something I'd mind, it's not something I need either, you know?"

Jack sent acknowledgment but didn't immediately reply. "That's good to have," he said finally, "that kind of family. Dad's great - you'll see tonight - but I get envious, sometimes, of bigger families, bigger support systems."

Jemma sent a wave of sympathy, then paused as something occurred to her. "How are we talking tonight? With your dad, I mean? a.s.suming he and I can't Talk."

"I haven't really had to deal with that," Jack admitted.

"My family keeps phones at the table. They used a whiteboard for a while. Or you could translate," Jemma suggested.

"I'll offer them all to Dad and let him pick, if that's okay with you. Sometimes his hand cramps up, but he hates when I speak for him, so it'll depend."

"How's he doing today?" Jemma sent. "Is this going to be too much?"

"No, he's feeling fine today," Jack sent back. "He's pretty excited, too. Life's been pretty boring for him lately. His immune system is finally back up enough for visitors, though, as long as you're feeling healthy."

"I am. I pretty much never get sick, but I almost always get a fever before I do. No fever, no sniffles."

"Okay, good." There was a moment of silence. "I'll let you stop Talking now so that you can stop staring quite so intently at your monitor." Humor laced his tone.

She turned around and glanced up at the balcony, seeing him leaning casually against the railing. He waved and disappeared back out of sight. She nodded to herself and took a circuit around the library, spending the rest of the day focused on her patrons and her job rather than the date-like get-together planned for afterward.

Jack and Jemma walked out to their cars after the library had closed, Jemma carrying a concealed chocolate pie she'd thrown together that morning. It wasn't very difficult to make, but it had always been a hit with those who tried it. She had put the pie tin in a separate, square Tupperware container and covered that with tin foil to thoroughly confuse Jack.

She turned to face her car, s.h.i.+fting the dessert so she could grab the handle. She caught a glimpse of movement in the reflection of her winds.h.i.+eld and spun around in time to see someone disappear around the corner of the library.

"Jack. Someone else is in the parking lot," she sent. She heard him walking toward her, and she turned back to her car to set down purse and dessert before turning back to where she'd seen the person.

"Someone you recognized?" he sent, glancing at her and then the direction she was indicating.

"Pretty much only saw a leg. Dark slacks, s.h.i.+ny shoes, maybe a hint of a coat." She rubbed her arm.

"Sounds very cloak and dagger. Do you think it was one of your patrons?"

"I don't know. The person was running, which doesn't necessarily mean anything, but doesn't really fit in, either," she sent.

"Should we check it out?" he sent.

Jemma shook her head. "Either we're being paranoid, and investigating isn't really going to change anything, or there's actually been someone every time we've heard something, right? In which case we really should leave it to someone official to investigate."

He ran a hand through his hair, glancing in that direction once more before sighing silently and nodding. "Do you just want to ask for another patrol again? Or do you want to stay here until the police arrive?"

"An extra patrol for now. I'll swing by the downtown library tomorrow to see whether I can get a camera installed on that side of the building. We only have one out on the front entrance," she sent.

"It's a good idea." Jack turned to face Jemma.

"Maybe should have thought of it after the first couple times I thought something was going on." She frowned and shook her head, then looked at Jack. "Why are we standing here in the parking lot when we can Talk from the cars?"

He shrugged. "You remember where you're going?"

"I'm pretty sure. Easy enough to ask if I forget, though."

Jack grinned and went to his car, looking back to make sure she'd made it safely into her own.

She moved the pie to the pa.s.senger seat, then sat and locked the door, started the car, and followed Jack out of the parking lot.

The drive was uneventful aside from a tense moment when a car behind her had followed them for a couple turns in a row. When it had finally turned a different direction, Jemma had relaxed, and they made it to Jack's father's house just a few minutes later.

Jemma pulled into the driveway behind Jack. The house was small, two stories, but it looked like the ground floor was probably mostly the two-car garage, the second story set neatly on top of it. It was on a cul-de-sac, with an open lot to the left. Jemma glanced curiously at what had to be Jack's house on the right, almost identical to the one they'd parked in front of.

She pulled out her phone and composed a text to the police.

Non-emergent: suspicious activity at West Branch library at 1800. Branch director requests an extra patrol.

She read it back over, then looked up to see Jack leaning against his car, waiting for her with a grin on his face.

"You get very absorbed, you know," he sent when he saw her look up. "It doesn't seem to matter whether you're reading a text or a novel, but you stop seeing anything around you when you read."

She gave half a shrug and pressed send on the text, quickly getting an automated response.

Non-emergent text received. PPD has recorded the incident and will respond as able.

She looked up from her phone again to see Jack, still smiling.

"Good thing it's safe here," he sent. "You coming?"

"Eventually," she sent along with a wave of amus.e.m.e.nt. She put her phone away, slung her purse over her shoulder, and grabbed her pie before getting out of the car, b.u.mping the door shut behind her.

"Ready?" he sent, his eyes still sparkling.

She nodded, and they went to the door, Jack knocking as they entered, much like Jemma did at her parents' house. Jack paused at the doorway, his eyes glazing over slightly as he presumably checked in with his dad, and then he gestured to Jemma, and they walked up the stairs to what did appear to be the main floor. They walked through a living room and into the dining room, where a man who bore a strong resemblance to Jack sat, beaming in their direction. He stood, slowly but confidently, and walked toward Jack, who met him halfway. They hugged warmly, and then the man turned toward Jemma, reaching to bring her into a hug, too, crooked thanks to the dessert she held.

As he pulled away, she realized it would have been a good time to see whether she could Talk to him, while they were in contact, and made a note to try when she was leaving if she didn't get a chance before then. He walked back to the table and picked up a dry erase board with writing already on it.

Hi, I'm Don. It's a pleasure to meet you.

He winked, and Jemma grinned and nodded, sending a quick message to Jack.

"Your father's more of a flirt than you are."

Jack sent a wave of amus.e.m.e.nt in response, and then he smiled at Don, took the pie from her hands, and disappeared down the hallway.

"No peeking," she sent after him.

"I won't," he returned, matching her tone.

Don erased the board and wrote again.

Jack doesn't bring women home to meet me. You must be pretty special.

Jemma felt her cheeks flush in embarra.s.sment at the compliment and the possible deceit, and she realized she'd probably made it look even more like they were dating by doing so.

"What did you tell him about me? About us?" Jemma sent Jack.

"I told him you were my favorite librarian," he sent back, "and that we'd become friends. Is he giving you a hard time?"

"Not really. Just said something that I took as him thinking we were dating, and I wasn't sure."