From: adjonas2000@yahoo.com   
      
   Fractured Soul   
      
   BY Amy Jonas   
      
   Rating:  PG   
      
   Keywords:  Jimmy Bond/Yves Harlow  Angst/Romance   
      
   Feedback:  Loved, wanted and adored at adjonas2000@yahoo.com   
      
   Archive:  Sure.  Just shoot off a note so I can visit.   
      
   Spoilers:  By now they should be called references. But yes, this   
   stories has them and they are…Bond, Jimmy Bond, Diagnosis Jimmy and   
   just a teeny weenie one from Like water For Octane   
      
   Summery:  Sometimes a brilliant smile hides a deep pain.   
      
   A/N:  Thanks goes to my fabulous beta Magsrose.  And to Stephen   
   Snedden for bringing Jimmy to life and giving us *that* smile.   
      
      
      
      
      
   "Come on guys," Langly said, impatiently. "Frohike lost the bet.   
   The first and second rounds are on him.  Double Tequila shots for   
   everyone!"   
      
   "You sure you don't want to come?" Byers asked the youngest Gunmen.   
      
   "Yeah, you guys go," Jimmy said, "I got stuff to do and later   
   there's this football game on ESPN."  He offered a ghost of his   
   usual bright grin.  "Do a couple shots for me."   
      
   Byers  smiled. "You got it."  He glanced at Yves long enough to   
   exchange worried looks then followed Langly and Frohike out to the   
   van.   
      
   When the door slammed shut Yves folded her arms over her chest and   
   eyed him carefully. "Why aren't you going to celebrate with them?"   
   she asked. "This story was a coup for you boys."   
      
   Jimmy shrugged. "Just didn't feel like it."   
      
   She suspected there was a grain of truth in his words but not   
   because of a football game. Something was amiss.  She watched as he   
   walked to the couch; sinking down on the decrepit thing almost in   
   relief.  His gait was slower than normal and there was a slight limp   
   when he walked though he tried to hide it.  Upon further reflection,   
   she realized he had stayed in one spot as much as possible all day.   
   When he did move around he favored one leg over another.   
      
   The possibility he had sprained his ankle was dismissed   
   immediately.  He wouldn't try to hide it from her or the boys.  No,   
   it was something else and she had a good idea what it was.   
      
   She strode over to him. He was holding the remote but hadn't turned   
   on the TV. "Your knee is hurting you, isn't it?" she asked bluntly.   
      
   "No." His denial was much to fast. "I just didn't want to go out and   
   miss the game."   
      
   She took the remote from his hand but despite his surprised   
   expression, he didn't protest.   
      
   "Take off your pants," Yves said. He turned a light shade of pink   
   and looked away from her gaze. She rolled her eyes in exasperation   
   and amusement. "Jimmy, I've seen you naked on more than one   
   occasion, I think I can handle seeing your knickers."   
      
   He quickly stood up, his face burning brighter. "It's not *that*,"   
   he muttered, still not meeting her eyes. "I'm *fine*.  Really."  As   
   if to prove it he took several cautious steps.  He still favored his   
   left leg but when he put his weight on it, he hissed in pain. He was   
   anything but fine and doing a poor job of hiding it.   
      
   "Jimmy."   She only had to say his name and his gaze snapped toward   
   her; guilt written over his face.  He started to say something but   
   she just raised an eyebrow telling him she wasn't going to give in.   
   He shut his mouth and limped back to the couch. He undid his jeans   
   and pushed them down, revealing solid white boxers and tanned,   
   muscular legs.   
      
   She knelt down and skimmed her fingers over the familiar scars on   
   his right knee. These were from when he underwent orthopedic surgery   
   after skiing into a tree in Washington state nearly six months ago.   
   She turned her attention to his left knee, tracing the thin scars   
   there.  She discovered the scars the first time they made love.  It   
   was then he told her how a  promising future in the NFL ended   
   prematurely after sustaining two injuries to his left knee.  Before   
   she could ask another question, he was running his hands over her;   
   kissing her.  Soon she was aware of nothing but the pleasure and   
   heat between them.   
      
   She glanced up at him, searching his expressive face for answers.   
   His gaze was focused on her fingers as they wandered over knees;   
   unhappiness and…was that despondency on his face? "How long has it   
   been hurting?" she asked gently.   
      
   He shrugged. "It just acts up every once in a while." He tugged his   
   jeans up; sat back down and looked at her. "It'll be ok. Honest. I   
   took some Tylonel earlier when I went to the bathroom."   
      
   They stared at each other.  She could see from his eyes he was   
   telling the truth but he still hadn't answered her question.  She   
   waited.   
      
    He sighed. "Two days."   
      
   She sat next to him, shaking her head, understanding.  Langly had   
   gleefully regaled her with how Jimmy had tackled the smuggler on a   
   narrow catwalk.  They had both plummeted seven feet blow to the next   
   level. He must have aggravated his knee then.  Jimmy's face reddened   
   as if he expected her to tell him how foolish he had been.  She had   
   no intention of saying anything he didn't know.  Besides, Frohike   
   already dressed him down for his impulsiveness.   
      
   Instead she asked, "How long has it been since your surgery?"   
      
   That took him by surprise. He snapped his head toward her; he knew   
   she wasn't referring to Washington. His gaze dropped to his left   
   knee. He was quiet for a minute. "Almost a year."   
      
   She didn't miss the regret in his voice.   
      
   "You miss playing professionally." It wasn't a question.   
      
   "Yeah." A ghost of a smile playing on his face. "But I don't miss   
   the strict diet; someone telling me when and how to exercise or the   
   early curfews." He chuckled. "Back then a funky poach would have   
   been some of the guys sneaking out for beer and pizza."   
      
   His smile widened, brightening at the memory. "But yeah, I loved it.   
   All of it. Even the times I was benched. It was exciting and   
   energizing to be in the middle of all that. I couldn't believe I was   
   being paid to have fun; to do something that was so much a part of   
   me. It was a dream come true."  He looked down at his hands, his   
   face darkening. "Then when they said I couldn't play anymore -"   
      
   "That must have crushed you."   
      
   He looked at her, seeing the understanding in her warm brown eyes.   
   Jimmy nodded; his Adam's Apple bobbed in his throat. "I spent my   
   life training for that chance.  It was all I wanted.  Afterwards I   
   didn't know what to do. Everyone kept saying I'd figure something   
   out." No one had understood how lost he felt when he was handed a   
   verdict that felt like a death sentence.   
      
   "Eventually I figured out a way to use what I knew to help other   
   guys."  Yves knew he was referring to the Barcadi Bats; a blind   
   football team he had formed using sonar and beeping footballs so   
   they could play.  "I saw how people told those guys they couldn't do   
   something  because of their handicap. It felt really good to see   
   them succeed when everyone expected them to fail." He smiled at the   
   memory but it quickly faded. "But you know how *that* turned out."   
   There was anger and guilt in his voice.  "I failed those guys."   
      
   "That wasn't your fault," Yves reminded him. "You were set up by   
   some dangerous individuals."   
      
   "I knew there was something odd about POE but I pushed aside the   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)