"Second Time Around" - Episode 1

I've finally finished the first episode of my first fanfiction, Second Time Around (working title). Er, almost. There's this one little chunk that I couldn't hammer out, I've left it bold and italicized and explained in capital letters, it's not that consequential anyway, I'll fix it later. I am starting with Jack's first utterance upon his return to the show in 2001, and then winging it from there, so some things are the same and some things are new. As the story goes on just about everything will be new, but baby steps for now. As in the actual episode, this covers J/J's arrival to the Paris airport, but I removed a lot of the goofy slapstick Jack stuff, because billyjill no dig that. I am also holding off on Jennifer reminiscing fondly about Jack in the name of delayed gratification, and so instead I've tried to set up my plot here. I'm going to have J/J spend more time in Paris after the coronation massacre, so I've got a few pieces to move into position, for now and for down the road.

Second Time Around, Part I: There's No Place Like Home Episode index: 001 Air date: 2001 February 5 Alice prods Jack to go to Paris, since Jennifer will be attending the Von Amburg coronation there. With a plethora of motives and a stolen press pass in tow Jack high-tails it to the Paris airport, where he, Jennifer and her peculiar plane seat neighbor await their luggage, unbeknownst to each other ... at first ...

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ONE. IN A HOTEL ROOM AWASH IN THE AFTERNOON LIGHT OF ROME, A MAN WALKS OUT OF THE BATHROOM IN A TOWEL. IT IS JACK DEVERAUX, NOT SEEN IN SALEM IN THREE YEARS.

JACK: Pronto.

ALICE: I'd like to speak to Jack Deveraux, please.

JACK: You got 'im, but if you got a complaint or a retraction you want run you better try AP.

ALICE: Jack!

JACK: Mrs. Horton?

ALICE: Jack, it _is_ you. I was hoping I'd find you, do you know how hard you are to track down?

JACK: *a little flummoxed for words* Well I do always try my best. *cautiously but genuinely* Uhh, to what do I owe the pleasure?

ALICE: Oh, well, your letter, Jack. Your letter arrived and I gave it to Jennifer when she got here.

JACK: When she got there, huh. Uh. What, what did she think about it?

ALICE: I can't say, actually.

JACK: *nods* Right, of course you can't.

ALICE: No, you see, she's on a plane.

JACK: A plane?

ALICE: To Paris.

JACK: Paris!?

ALICE: Yes, I just got it to her before she took off, so I don't know if she's read it.

JACK: If I know Jennifer it'll come back with blue pencil all over it. Say Mrs. Horton, if it doesn't impede on your confidentiality commitments ... uhh, what's got her in Paris?

ALICE: I am glad you asked.

TWO. JENNIFER IS BOARDING A PLANE TO PARIS. SHE TAKES HER SEAT AS TAKEOFF APPROACHES.

FLIGHT ATTENDANT: ... and all tray tables do need to be secured and seats kept in upright position until we reach cruising altitude. Use of all electronic devices must be discontinued during ...

JENNIFER: Excuse me.

MAN: Not at all.

JENNIFER: I was afraid I wasn't gonna make it.

MAN: Heh, yeah, gotta love those security lines.

JENNIFER: Actually they weren't so bad, at least not in my terminal.

MAN: I just assumed, I'm on a connecting leg myself.

JENNIFER: Oh? *he nods, and Jennifer thinks for a bit* A connection all the way to Paris from little old Salem?

MAN: Oh, well you know, last minute change of plans.

JENNIFER: Ah, me too, the last minute part I mean.

MAN: Really?

JENNIFER: There must be something about Paris that brings out the spontaneous in people.

MAN: Aha.

JENNIFER: Least I hope so.

MAN: Oh you do, huh?

JENNIFER: I hope I can let myself go a little, you know? I haven’t had a vacation in a while, the last one was, gosh, Lake Tahoe _years_ ago.

MAN: Pretty area, yeah, I know it well.

JENNIFER: Are you from around there?

MAN: Born and bred *grins broadly* Nothing sticks with you like your roots.

JENNIFER: Is that where you're flying in from?

MAN: Not exactly. But my heart's there, at least the half that's not in Paris. You know, Gertrude Stein once said that America was her country but Paris was her hometown. *puts hand over heart sentimentally and smiles*

JENNIFER: Yeah, yeah I did know that. Kinda funny seeing how she grew up in Vienna.

MAN: Vienna! Vienna, now that's a town of a different color. No good old SoCal sunshine there.

JENNIFER: I thought Lake Tahoe was in northern California?

MAN: Uhh ... umm ... *shrugs and laughs fakely, nervously* Guess I've been away from home too long, you know what I mean?

JENNIFER: *suspicious* Yeah I know what you mean. Where did you say you were connecting from again?

MAN: *shortly* I didn't.

JENNIFER: *perplexed* I'm, I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry, I didn't mean to --

MAN: No no, _I'm_ sorry, it's just ... well, it's just random, don't you think? Like if I sat here and made you tell me what brings you to Paris.

THREE. BACK IN JACK'S HOTEL ROOM.

JACK: What's got Jennifer in Paris?

ALICE: I’m glad you asked.

JACK: *beat* I didn't think anything I'd say would make you glad these days.

ALICE: Oh, Jack ... *flustered by the sadness of the separated state of this part of her family* ... The coronation.

JACK: Von Amberg?

ALICE: That's the one. You still have that nose for the hot story, I see.

JACK: You'd have to be more clogged up than the public toilet at a Mexican restaurant to not sniff that one out.

ALICE: Ahh. *talking over Jack* So you _are_ going?

JACK: But why is she -- going? Me? Mrs. H, you may want to sit down for this, but I'm not nearly the top dog I used to be. *picks up a memo off a table and looks at it, thinking*

ALICE: You mean they won't give you the story? But you have to be there, you must.

JACK: Somehow I think your investment has little to do with reporting. *sets memo down and grins a little*

ALICE: Jack, aren't you listening? Jennifer is going to be in Paris, you could be there hours before her.

JACK: *his grin turns wistful* Lots of water under very big bridges.

ALICE: Jack. This is a terrible time for you to develop perspective.

JACK: *forces self back to cold hard reality* What can I say, Mrs. H. Sometimes things end, that's life.

ALICE: *sigh* Well, I had to tell you, Jack. That's all I can say. You do with it what you wish. *beat* How are you?

JACK: I'm fine, how are you? The family? ... That's wonderful, really. Alright, it was terrific to hear from you. Alright, bye Mrs. Horton.

JACK PUTS DOWN THE PHONE AND STARES PENSIVELY AT MEMO AS SOMEONE ENTERS THE ROOM.

POZZI: Hey Americano! You coming or what? It’s lunch, not a photo shoot.

JACK: *grins wryly as he hides memo* Sitting on a hot date, Pozzi?

POZZI: More like a hot story, or at least I think I am, and I’m not gonna lose it on account of you.

JACK: Honestly, would I do that to you?

POZZI: Honestly? It’s not exactly a stretch of the imagination.

JACK: *motions in jest as if he was clutching his heart, then disappears behind a screen to dress* You wound me, Pozzi, you really do. Besides, haven’t you been working the beat too long to be excited by tabloid fodder?

POZZI: Tabloid fodder? Oh Jack, Jack, Jack. If only you knew.

JACK: I think I got a hunch. Tell me, Pozzi, how many butts did you have to kiss to land the coronation story?

POZZI: It’s called being a good reporter, maybe you should try it.

JACK: Listen, nobody likes a smart aleck.

POZZI: A smart what?

JACK: Aleck, aleck, a smart-- nevermind.

POZZI: *nonplussed* Hey, any calls?

JACK: Uhhh ... *fingers memo with back to Pozzi* ... no, not since I got in.

POZZI: There were gonna tell me if I got the story or not, the press pass just came in.

JACK: Well don't look here.

POZZI: I mean if I don't got it now that means they’re not giving it to me, right?

JACK: I’d say that's what it means.

POZZI: Well. Damn.

JACK: They were gonna fly you over, yes?

POZZI: You think I can just run off to Paris with what they pay us?

JACK: Right, right. Hey look, you go get us a table, I'll wait around a bit in case chief calls and then I'll be right down, okay?

POZZI: You sure?

JACK: Yeah I got a few things to take care of anyway.

POZZI: In that case, thanks. You know, sometimes you’re a real pal, Americano.

POZZI EXITS AS JACK CRACKS AN IRONIC GRIN. HE PICKS UP THE PHONE.

JACK: Associated Press, per favore ... Chief, it’s Deveraux. Say, Pozzi told me to let you know he can’t pick up the plane ticket himself ... Well you know Pozzi, takes ages to pack, he's really such a girl about it *laughs fakely but convincingly* ... Yeah, right, so I'll pick it up and drop it off to him at the airport, alright? Alright, see you.

JACK PUTS DOWN THE PHONE WITH A LOOK THAT MEANS HE'S UP TO SOMETHING. HE GRABS A JACKET AND EXITS.

FOUR. AT THE PARIS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, JENNIFER AND HER PLANE SEAT NEIGHBOR, NAMED BERT, TOW THEIR CARRY-ONS INTO THE TERMINAL. THEY ARE LAUGHING CORDIALLY.

JENNIFER: I'm so glad you didn't hold my prying against me.

BERT: Me too. *shared laugh* You're a lovely neighbor. And I'm glad you didn't hold _my_ ornery tendencies against _me_.

JENNIFER: No I don't blame you at all, I'd worry a little if someone was trying to interrogate me too. There's still a nosy little reporter somewhere inside me I guess, I see a story in everything.

BERT: *moderately interested* Reporter, now _­that_ would explain a lot.

JENNIFER: *laugh* I'm not in the news business anymore though.

BERT: No? *almost to himself* That's too bad. *she looks at him quizzically* Just that, you know, it's a big weekend for the press here in Paris, what with the Von Amberg coronation and all.

JENNIFER: It's funny you mention that. You brought up earlier about why I'm here? I have an invitation to the coronation.

BERT: ­*definitely interested* _Really_. Seeing as how they just announced our luggage is late, could I possibly interest you in a friendly drink, Mrs. ...

JENNIFER: Miss. Miss Horton.

BERT: Of course. Miss ... Horton ...

JENNIFER: "Jennifer" is fine.

AS SHE TAKES HIS OFFERED ARM AND WALKS OFFSCREEN, JACK CAN BE SEEN IN THE BACK OF THE SAME CROWD OF WHICH JENNIFER WAS AT THE FRONT, HEADED IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION. THEY DO NOT SEE EACH OTHER.

JACK: *to an airport employee* Pardon, parlez-vous anglais?

EMPLOYEE: Yes, monsieur, I speak English. As the major global travel hub of France we at Paris International prioritize facilitating communication with customers of all different nationalities and languages.

JACK: Right, fine, excellent. Maybe you could use your linguistic prowess to inform me how late your world-class institution intends to be with my luggage.

EMPLOYEE: Apologies, monsieur. Press passes to the Von Amberg coronation were a few days delayed in being sent out, so there is a sizeable influx of worldwide media into the city today.

JACK: No kidding. *holds up his (Pozzi’s) pass*

EMPLOYEE: Then monsieur must understand that this not only increases our backlog but also the likelihood of error.

JACK: What monsieur understands is that there are exactly three hours and twenty-seven minutes left between now and the media blitz, in which I and a half billion other crazed reporters have to get across the city, check in with our papers, and shimmy into our penguin suits which, if I don't get my bags in a timely fashion, I am going to have to rent, meaning I'm going to have to wait in line at currency exchange, and we all know how time-efficient _they_ are. Now, can _you_ understand _that_?

EMPLOYEE: I ... er ... penguin suits, monsieur?

JACK: *glares, then stalks off muttering* Forget it.

FIVE. IN THE BAGGAGE CLAIM AREA JACK HAS BEEN PACING A HOLE INTO THE FLOOR. FED UP, HE APPROACHES THE CLAIM DESK.

EMPLOYEE: *before Jack can speak* Monsieur Deveraux, I'm sorry, we still don't know.

JACK: You don't know. Fine, I'm fine, that's fine. In any case I doubt I can get a prescription for Xanax on such short notice so maybe you can just do me a favor. That's a phone, right?

EMPLOYEE: Right ...

JACK: And all your international baggage comes through it's own security, right?

EMPLOYEE: Right ...

JACK: Well why don't you call them over there and see if _they_ can locate my bags?

EMPLOYEE: Monsieur, it is the same everywhere in the airport. If you just wait --

OTHER PEOPLE IN LINE BEHIND JACK BEGIN VOCALIZING THEIR IMPATIENCE.

JACK: Listen, I don't think you know who you're dealing with!

EMPLOYEE: Calm down, everyone, please! *to Jack* I'll call it over, Monsieur. If you could return to the desk in ten minutes or so, I will let you know.

JACK: Thank you. *sighs frustratedly and heads over to airport cafe*

JENNIFER AND BERT EMERGE FROM THE CAFE JUST BEFORE JACK APPROACHES. ONCE AGAIN THEY DO NOT SEE EACH OTHER AMIDST THE CROWD.

JENNIFER: Boy, were you right! Coffee was a _much_ better call, just look at this place! It's a zoo.

BERT: Gonna need all your wits and then some to get to that party of yours on time, huh?

JENNIFER: Mmm *sipping coffee* mmhmm. Oh, speaking of, I'm going to go see if I can expedite the baggage claiming process any. Don't go anywhere.

SHE WALKS UP TO THE CLAIM DESK.

JENNIFER: Excusez-moi, s'il vous plait.

EMPLOYEE: Hello, madame.

JENNIFER: Hi, hello there. Busy day, huh?

EMPLOYEE: A little, oui. *smiles weakly*

JENNIFER: Well I'm sorry to add to your problems but I have this very important engagement tonight that I'm running late for and I was wondering if --

EMPLOYEE: You are invited to the coronation and you would ask me to check if your luggage has arrived.

JENNIFER: Oh could you possibly?

EMPLOYEE: You know, you are the only one all day to ask me about my day. I'll call it over right now.

JENNIFER: Thank you!

EMPLOYEE: The name on the ticket? *holds out hand*

JENNIFER: *pulls ticket out of purse, then stuffs it back in* Actually, the name on the _bags_ is "Jennifer Deveraux."

EMPLOYEE: *looking in direction of cafe* But of course, not to worry, madame, your husband has already placed a request.

JENNIFER: My husband? Are you su--

EMPLOYEE: Oui, madame, your husband. I'll need just one minute, if you will.

IN THE CAFÉ JACK IS ARGUING WITH POZZI ON HIS CELL PHONE. BY NOW POZZI KNOWS JACK STOLE HIS STORY, AND IS YELLING OVER THE LINE ABOUT GETTING HIM FIRED. JACK MENTIONS HOW BADLY HE NEEDS THIS ASSIGNMENT, BUT THEN HIS SIGNAL STARTS TO FADE. HE LEAVES THE CAFÉ CHASING IT JUST AS A CONFUSED JENNIFER RETURNS TO BERT AT THE CAFÉ. SHE TELLS HIM HOW THE EMPLOYEE AT THE DESK THOUGHT HE (BERT) WAS HER HUSBAND, AND BERT PRETENDS TO LAUGH ALONG THOUGH HE HAS NO IDEA WHAT SHE'S TALKING, ABOUT AS SHE THANKS HIM FOR CHECKING ON HER BAGS FOR HER.

UNABLE TO RELOCATE HIS SIGNAL, JACK HANGS UP ON POZZI AND APPROACHES THE DESK.

JACK: Well?

EMPLOYEE: It is on it's way, monsieur. Though your flight wasn't the earliest one in, we are pooling luggage from flights from all over and will be making them available all at once.

JACK: Good, excellent. Thank you. Merci beaucoup. I'd just, just like to apologize for my *clears throat* brusque manner before.

EMPLOYEE: Certainly monsieur, no need. Though perhaps you would let your wife handle the public relations from now on.

JACK: Wife?

EMPLOYEE: Yes, wife. I'm sorry if I've offended, monsieur.

JACK: Did you say wife?

BEFORE HE GETS AN ANSWER A LOUD ALARM GOES OFF, SIGNALLING THAT THE BAGGAGE CAROUSELS HAVE TURNED ON. JACK RUSHES OFF, SPOTS HIS SUITCASE, AND THEN NOTICES WHO IS REACHING FOR IT. IT IS JENNIFER. HE APPROACHES.

JACK: Pardon me, ma'am, I believe that's my luggage.

JENNIFER: No I think you're mistaken, see it says -- *she looks up and realizes who it is* -- Jack!

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