Friends in High Places

Jack stretched in his chair, feeling more than hearing his spine popping from too much sitting down. He really needed to get out more - he wasn't exactly in fighting shape anymore. That said, he didn't think he was that out of shape either, although Sky would probably kick his ass with ease, he thought sourly. Z was still complaining about the early morning mud runs he'd dragged the others through every day for two months until they'd mutinied. He grinned at the thought and returned to his paperwork in slightly better humour, tinged with wistfulness.

He missed the others, even though he still saw most of them on a regular basis. Syd was the only one he hadn't seen in a while and that was because she'd left SPD about a year ago to resume her singing career. He, like the others, kept an eye on how she was doing: checking out the magazines, laughing at the tabloid gossip that was so clearly made up and making sure she was really okay behind all the glamour and dazzling smiles she presented to the world. The reviews of her music all raved about how much more mature she was now, how she'd grown as an artist and he'd snort derisively whenever he heard another comment along those lines. Syd had fought a war, been on the front lines with only four team-mates to back her up. Under those circumstances you either grew or got yourself killed.

Actually, it wasn't true that he hadn't seen her. She was in town right now for a concert - New Tech City was set up to be the highlight of her tour and the tickets had sold out in less than an hour. They'd been supposed to meet up a couple of nights before, all five of them, but something had come up and he hadn't been able to make it. He'd called to make his apologies and ended up chatting on the phone for almost half an hour before he got called away, but it wasn't the same, and after that she'd been too busy with the two shows to spend time with them.

He glanced up at the knock on the door, despite the fact that it was open and his eyebrows rose slightly at the woman standing there. Dark red hair perfectly done, flawless nail polish, make up - not their usual clientele. She reminded him of Syd, for some reason. She had the same classy elegance that was never overstated and the same casual attitude that money seemed to give you.

"Can I help you?" he asked, automatically rising from his seat.

"Actually," the woman said with a smile. "It's more how I can help you."

Jack's mental eyebrows shot up while he kept his outer expression friendly and he gestured at the seat on the other side of his desk. "Okay then, have a seat."

She sat down and took an envelope out of her purse, sliding it across his desk. "A donation."

Jack looked down at the envelope, then back up at the woman sitting across from him. She simply smiled and he slowly picked up the envelope to open it. A cheque was in there, made out to the shelter although he couldn't make out the signature nor recognise the name. The amount on the cheque almost had his jaw on the floor. That was a lot of money and God knew the shelter could use it, but… he couldn't just take this, no matter how much he wanted to.

"A donation?" he repeated and one eyebrow quirked slightly back at him.

"Yes. My employer feels that you're doing a good job and that this should help out."

Help out? This would more than help out. Conservative rhetoric had been on the increase over the past year or so and contributions to the shelter had begun to dwindle. Add into the equation the kind of taxes they were being hit with and they'd been reluctantly considering closing down some of their operations around the city. With this they wouldn't have to. But he couldn't take it without knowing at least a little bit more about where it came from.

"Yeah, it would… if I knew where it was coming from."

"My employer would prefer to keep this discreet. It avoids criticism of showy charity like so many well known figures do today."

Mm hm. Nice story. "Look, I can appreciate that, I really can, but I'm not going to take this if it means getting the shelter involved with something it should stay away from. I am not getting it involved in anything that will compromise what we do."

There was another smile. "She said you'd say that."

"She?"

The woman ignored him, digging into her purse again and pulling out a smaller envelope. Taking it off her, Jack's eyebrows rose again as he noted that it was addressed to him by name - a simple 'Jack' written on the back in suspiciously familiar handwriting. Now he thought he knew where this was coming from. "I was to give you this if you proved… difficult to convince."

"Her words or yours?" Jack asked with a wry smile.

"She may have been a little more… blunt in her phrasing, yes."

Jack smirked as he unfolded the letter. "I'll bet."

'Jack,' the note read. 'Stop being so damn stubborn and take the money already.'

He couldn't help it, a quiet huff of laughter escaping him as he read. Typical Syd. God, he could kiss that girl right now. How had she known how badly off the shelter was? This had to be proceeds from the shows but… He shook his head at himself. It didn't matter. While his pride might rebel against taking money from Syd, the shelter needed it and, truth be told, he wasn't that upset about it. At least now he could take the cheque with a clear conscience.

He looked back up at the woman in the chair - she still hadn't given him a name - and nodded. "Okay. Tell her thanks. And that I owe her one."

"She says no you don't."

She would. "Fine, just tell her thanks anyway." He sighed as the woman opened her mouth again. "Let me guess. I don't need to say 'thanks' either." Syd knew him way too well.

"No, you don't."

"Tell her anyway."

"I will."

Slumping back down into his chair as his visitor left, Jack stared at the envelopes on the desk - the cheque and the note. Z, decided. Z or one of the others had to have mentioned it when they'd gone out, that was the only possible explanation. His hand hovered over the phone, although who he was planning on calling he had no idea. In the end though, he dropped his hand back onto the table. Syd wouldn't want this to be a big deal and calling either her or one of the others to demand answers would make this a big deal. Better just to accept it now and do something nice later, when she was least expecting it.