Chapter Eighteen

Agent Mission Log Entry:

I’m surprised how close this version of POTUS resembles my version, and I don’t mean in appearance. My POTUS told me he had mellowed with age, and I can see where in some ways that is true, but he never lost that icy glare and that steely tone of voice that tells someone that he really means business. Even the tightening of his jaw is the same. He adds all of those together with a carefully controlled mask, but he’s never fooled me; I can see right through the facade.

In fact, this version of POTUS is so much like my own that I find myself jumping to do his bidding - as if he were already my boss.

That’s going to have to stop!


The soft click of the door closing behind her snapped Gabriella’s mind back in gear. She turned around to stare at the hard oak door she’d closed behind her.

She shook her head. How had that happened? With his quietly commanding words, she had simply turned and left the room, just as she would have done in her time. How many times had he said those words to her? Too many to count. Although, most of them had happened when David was the other occupant of the room in question.

Curiosity had always been her downfall, and today was no different. It was killing her to be left out of the conversation going on behind that dark wood door. Her fingers traced along one of the lines of the deep beveled rectangle cut into the wood all the while wishing she’d had time to bug the room before the two men were left alone in there. She shook her head with a smile; she knew she’d never invade POTUS’ privacy like that.

Inside the room, the two men were blissfully unaware of the inner workings of Gabby’s mind. As soon as the door closed behind her, Jon stood up, not to pace the room as Richie had expected, but to walk around the corner of the desk and sink into the chair there as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. Richie knew from silently watching Jon that whatever his friend was about to tell him was big, but unlike Gabby, curiosity wasn’t killing him.

Finally, Jon crossed his arms on the desk and leaned forward slightly. “Rich,” he paused, looking for the right words, then started again, “I don’t know how to convince you that I’m telling you the truth. This is not some elaborate joke. Gabby is really from the future, and I sent her here.”

Richie opened his mouth to argue, but Jon shook his head at him and went on speaking. “Really. C’mon Rich. Don’t I look serious?”

The guitarist took a long hard look at Jon. His mouth didn’t even hint at a grin or even that devious little smirk that would’ve told him that the front man was up to something and there was a sadness around his eyes, not even a twinkle in those blue orbs to indicate an upcoming punch line.

Jon didn’t wait for Richie to answer his question. “Look, I’d never laid eyes on that woman before last night. But, she knew something that I’ve never told anyone, not even you, and she swore I told it to her in the future, before I sent her here. And she gave me this,” he paused, opening the top drawer of his desk to pull out the necklace Gabriella had brought back from the future with her. He held up Richie’s necklace, it turned this way and that, the light glinting off it.

“Is that what I think it is?” Richie asked.

“It’s a Slippery pendant,” Jon answered. “To be more precise, it’s YOUR Slippery pendant.”

Richie reached up to finger the pendant around his neck. “No. I have mine on.”

“The redhead in Denver’s teeth marks are in this one, and your number is on the back. This is your pendant,” Jon countered quickly.

Jon could tell by Richie’s silence he was starting to believe him; the guitarist wasn’t all the way in yet, but he was getting there. Not that Jon could blame him, this was a lot to take in - hell, he only believed it because of the code words ‘Alas Babylon’.

Richie leaned forward slightly in his chair, motioning toward the necklace. “Let me see it.”

Automatically, Jon stood up, intending to take Richie the pendant. He was almost around the desk when he stopped, pulling the hand that held the necklace back to childishly put it behind his back.

Richie snorted. “What’s wrong, Kidd? Afraid I might be able to tell it for the fraud it is?”

Jon shook his head in denial. “No, I’m worried about putting the two necklaces together and fucking up the whole time/space continuum thing.” Richie snorted, and Jon argued defensively, “What? I read. I watch movies.”

“Maybe that’s your problem,” Richie chuckled.

“Fuck you, asshole,” Jon growled, reaching out with the necklace so fast he almost threw it at Richie.

Once the pendant was in Richie’s hand, Jon went back to sit behind his desk. Richie looked closely at the necklace. The inscription was correct and the teeth marks were there. He looked closer and noticed the pendant actually looked older; it probably wouldn’t be noticeable to someone who didn’t see the one around his neck on a daily basis, but he could tell the metal actually looked a little more dull, a little more worn.

While he sat with the mysterious necklace in his hand, he heard Jon rambling on about some email and how there was no way Gabriella could’ve known the information. All the while questions roiled in his head. Richie knew if he wanted the answers, he’d just have to interrupt Jon, because once his friend was on a roll, he’d never shut up.

He waited until Jon paused to take a breath, then jumped in. “How’d she get my necklace?”

Whatever Jon had been about to say was put on hold to answer Richie’s question. “She said I gave it to her.” He hadn’t missed the fact that Richie had referred to the pendant as his. Obviously, it was all starting to sink in.

“But, I never take it off,” Richie objected. “How would you get it?”

“There’s only two reasons that I can think of,” Jon answered. “One would be if we had some huge fight and ya threw it at me...”

Richie interrupted him to joke. “Oh no, asshole. I’m keeping the engagement present.”

Smiling sadly to acknowledge the jest, but unable to laugh, Jon continued, “Or, Heather or Ava must’ve given it to me.”

Richie looked up from examining the necklace to meet Jon’s sad eyes. “But, why would one of them...” He didn’t finish the question.

Jon waited patiently for Richie to come to the right conclusion. Some would say he had taken the coward’s way out, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

“Ah, I see,” Richie said, nodding. “When does it happen? Do ya know? Should I be making plans, maybe drawing up a will?”

Jon stared aghast at Richie’s grin. The man had just been told about his impending demise and the asshole was cracking wise?

At the look on Jon’s face, Richie’s grin grew bigger. “What? We all gotta go sometime, right?” He watched as the look on Jon’s face changed to frowning disapproval and decided to change the subject. “What were you saying about an email?”

Quickly, Jon explained about the email, not even leaving out the part about avoiding the embarrassing nickname, although he didn’t tell Richie what it was.

“Oh, c’mon, Kidd,” Richie grinned evilly. “Ya know I won’t give up until you tell me what it was.”

“And then you’ll tease me about it til the end of time,” Jon countered.

“I’m gonna tease ya about it til the end of time anyway,” Richie replied.

“Yeah, and by stopping you from getting on that plane yesterday, I made sure you’d be here to do it, too.” Jon grinned now, too.

“Well, technically, Special Agent Gabriella Prince stopped me,” Richie corrected him.

“No, my future self tricked her into saving you. She was afraid saving you would change future events, but apparently, I didn’t give two shits about changing things. Not if it meant letting you die.” Jon sobered with the last few words.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t,” Richie told him. “But, then neither would I, if the shoe was on the other foot.”

Jon shook his head, the left corner of his mouth lifting in a smug smirk. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen. I just don’t see you as the President.”

“Hey,” Richie said, laughing, “maybe now, I’m your Vice President.”