"Jax here!" he finally panted, rolling over to the other side of the bed into a seated position.

"Geez, Jax! It took you so long to answer I thought you might be a blind man or something!"

Jax grinned and shook his head. "Have I ever told you how much I love your dry sense of humor, Donnelly?"

"Yeah, well just be glad that you don’t have to put up with it on a regular basis anymore." Sean paused for about ten seconds as Jax took a towel from around his neck and rubbed his hair briskly. "Although, with all the questions you’ve been asking lately, I thought that maybe you were actually giving a return to the Bureau serious consideration."

"Over my doctor’s dead body," Jax replied. "He gave me strict instructions to take it easy for at least six months, and that means no "James Bond stuff," as he put it."

Sean sighed. "And since we both know you can’t type worth a d*mn, I guess that means you won’t be filling in when Kate goes on vacation this year and leaves me all alone here."

"You always manage to put the fear of God into those temps, Sean." Jax grinned again "Now -- enough of this polite chit-chat. Let’s get down to the real reason you called. I assume you must have the information I asked you for."

"That’s what I always loved about you, Jax. You don’t beat around the bush." There was another silence. "You know that I could get in a LOT of trouble if they found out that I gave you the identity of your donor, don’t you , Jax?"

"Sean, I may not be on the "active" WSB roster, but I’m smart enough to know that you and I *never* had this conversation." Jax rubbed his hair again and then draped the towel around his neck. "Now, tell me what you’ve got so far on my transplant donor."

As Sean rustled some papers, Jax grabbed a pen and pad of paper that sat by the phone. During the momentary delay, Jax paused to reflect on just how good it felt to be able to *use* a pad and paper again. He had been doing that a lot since his visit to Dr. Cohen’s office two days earlier. In fact, for one entire day, Jax just wandered around his Tribeca neighborhood, noticing things like what color flowers Mrs. Shoen had in her windowbox, or whether or not the shade was up in Mr. Cunningham’s window. It felt so *good* to be able to see those colors, or notice those subtle changes in the complexion of the neighborhood.

"OK -- got it." Sean’s voice was curt. "The donor for your corneas was named Michael Corinthos."

Jax wrote down the name. "That’s all you’ve got?"

Sean sighed. "I was afraid that wouldn’t be enough to satisfy you. He lived in Port Charles, New York. That’s upstate somewhere, I think."

There was a brief silence. "Did he have family?"

"He had a wife, but no kids. They were married about a year ago. The widow’s name is Carly."

"Carly?" Jax frowned. "That’s kind of an odd name, isn’t it?"

"Apparently it’s short for Caroline," Sean replied. "They were heavy into nicknames, these two. The husband went by Sonny, I understand."

Jax nodded into the phone, tapping the pen against the pad of paper. "Sonny Corinthos, widow named Carly. Got it. I don’t suppose you have their address, do you?"

"Why don’t I just fax you a copy of what I’ve got, OK?"

Jax sat up straighter. "You mean the Bureau’s got a file on him?"

"No, Jax." Sean sighed in annoyance. "When I managed to get the name of your donor, I just ran a crossmatch through our computers and found a one page article on him in the Business section of the Port Charles Gazette." There was a pause while Sean scanned for details. "Apparently he was some kind of businessman who specialized in making little no-name companies into big time, hot-shot corporations."

"OK, well you’ve got my fax number. I really appreciate this, Sean."

"No problem, Jax. But you realize that there’s a price for this information."

"Aw, geez, Sean, not with the mother hen stuff again......"

He heard the chief of the World Security Bureau chuckle. "Jax, you know I only treat you like a son because I never had one myself." His voice grew serious. "I just want you to take it easy with this, OK? Just because Sonny Corinthos died from a gunshot wound, there’s no reason to think that he’s part of a world-wide conspiracy to freeze the oceans."

"I know, Sean," Jax groaned. "Honestly -- the only reason I wanted the information was so I could send the widow a nice note, thanking her for her husband’s selfless act in donating his organs."

"Uh-huh."

".....or maybe go see her and thank her in person....."

"Jax! Didn’t you just say your doctor wanted you to take it easy for six months?"

Jax rose to his feet. "And taking a nice, peaceful drive to upstate New York at this time of year is a perfect way to relax, you know, Sean?" He twirled the phone cord anxiously. "I have to check in with my eye surgeon every week, and I promise I won’t stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. I’ll even call you every Tuesday night if it makes you feel better."

"Naw.....you don’t have to do that." Sean paused. "Wednesday’s better. Buffy the Vampire Slayer comes on Tuesday’s and I hate to have to wait and watch the tape."

Jax shook his head. "You’re the best, Sean. I’ll talk to you soon."

*~*~*~*

Exactly three days later, Jax found himself cruising a quiet residential area of Port Charles, New York, looking for the house where Sonny and Carly Corinthos lived. He pushed the dark sunglasses that Dr. Cohen insisted he wear up higher on his nose as he tried to read the numbers on the frame houses.

Jax crossed the intersection into the next block and then pulled his evergreen-colored Explorer into a parking space. He didn’t want to be so obvious as to part directly in front of the house. In fact, despite the time it took to drive to Port Charles and find the address, Jax still had no idea what he would say when he finally met Mrs. Caroline Corinthos, aka Carly.

{Let’s see.....uh, Hi -- I’m the guy who got your husband’s corneas?.....Nah.....better lead into it gradually..... Hi! My name is Jax and I kind of knew your husband. How did I know him? Well....uh.....we both used to be Rangers fans and ....oh, did I mention? I used to be blind but then I got his corneas in a transplant when he died......Nope. That won’t work either.}

Jax was spared any more turmoil when he noticed the door of the house open and the widow herself emerged. He leaned forward, his arms crossed on the steering wheel, trying to get a better look. As his eyes finally adjusted to the hazy sunlight of the early autumn day, Jax realized another reason to be thankful for his restored eyesight – he could appreciate just how beautiful a woman Carly Corinthos was.

She was fairly tall – although compared to Jax’s six foot two frame, she would only come up a little past his shoulder. She was thin, although she had curves in all the places where Jax usually liked women to have curves. Her hair was red, although not fire engine red. More like Tahitian sunset red, or what the Crayola makers poetically referred to as "burnished gold" – and about shoulder length. It appeared to be straight, but Jax couldn’t be sure because she had it all pulled back into a short braid at the nape of her neck. It was too far away for him to see her eye color, but her sharply-defined features were plainly visible. As Sonny Corinthos’s widow got into her late model Honda, he noticed something unusual for such a beautiful early fall day. She was terrified, and she was crying.

He knew he shouldn’t, but when Carly’s car pulled away from the curb, Jax followed her at a respectable distance. They drove through what was apparently downtown Port Charles, and Jax couldn’t help but notice the quiet compared to the bustle of downtown Manhattan. While they were waiting for a stoplight to change, Jax saw a sign advertising a Bed and Breakfast owned by some people named Baldwin. He glanced over at his duffel bag on the front seat beside him. {Well, at least I know where I’ll be laying my head tonight.} He had a momentary pang of conscience – he had told Sean he would only extend his thanks to Carly and then come home – but after this long of a drive, staying for a few days couldn’t possible hurt anything or anyone, could it?

The honk of a horn behind him reminded Jax that the light had changed to green. He almost lost Carly in the traffic and the maze of streets, but he finally caught up to her again just as they passed a white frame church. Carly’s turn indicator flipped on, and Jax made a corresponding move. She followed a side street, and when she started to slow down and eventually parked, Jax swore softly at his own ignorance. {No wonder she was upset. Where else would a widow be going, but to visit her husband’s grave?}

Jax didn’t park on the same small street in the cemetery as Carly. He watched from a distance as she got out of her car and then walked slowly across the grassy field until she came to a modest headstone. Jax drove to an adjacent street in the cemetery and parked his Explorer, getting out and flipping his dark glasses down as per doctor’s orders.

He felt a little awkward – approaching her when she was spending time with the man she loved – the man who had given him back his sight. {Maybe that’s the key. Maybe God is trying to give you the perfect way to bring it up.} Jax walked slowly through the cemetery, noticing that Carly had dropped to her knees at her husband’s grave.

Jax was about 20 feet away from her when he could make out some of her words. She was kneeling next to the headstone, which still had not been engraved with her husband’s date of death. She kept tracing the letters of his name with her fingers. As Jax silently approached her, he could hear that she was crying. But then, her words sent a chill down his spine.

"Why did you do it, Sonny?" Carly had a tissue wadded tightly in her hands. She would delicately press it to the corners of her eyes and then glance skyward, her chin tight, almost as though she was angry with her late husband. "Why did you have to lie to me?" Jax took a quiet, deep breath. "Now, the police think that I killed you! Why did you have to do this to me?"

Jax cast his eyes downward. It made sense, of course. Even rookie law enforcement operatives were taught the most basic of rules – if the victim is married, the first most obvious suspect is the spouse. The fax that Sean had sent him hadn’t given any details of the murder, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that if Sonny Corinthos had been lying to his wife about something, even the most inept police department could call it a motive.

The rumbling sound of a car approaching caused Carly to look up at the same instant that Jax raised his eyes to meet hers. She gasped loudly and stumbled to her feet. "Who are you? What do you want?"

{Oh, great. Make a good first impression, Jax. Scare the bloody h*ll out of the woman while she’s grieving for her husband.} "I’m sorry -- I didn’t mean to frighten you." Jax put up his hands, palms outward, trying to sound as gentle and non-threatening as possible.

It wasn’t working. Carly backed up even more from Sonny’s grave. "I asked who you were," she cried loudly. "What do you want with me?"

{Brown. Her eyes are brown. Not dark brown, but kind of an amber-brown, like the shades of fur on a cocker spaniel.} "Please -- don’t be afraid." Jax took a few steps towards Carly but she only moved further away from him. "My name is Jasper Jacks, and I just wanted to offer my condolences on your husband’s death."

Carly stopped retreating and gave Jax a cautious stare. "Thank you, Mr. …….Jacks, is it? But I don’t recall Sonny ever mentioning anyone by your name." She lifted an accusing finger at Jax. "And I don’t remember seeing you at the funeral."

"I ....uh.....I didn’t know Sonny that well, actually." Jax removed his dark glasses, thinking that perhaps they gave him a more sinister appearance. "And I wasn’t at the funeral because I had some surgery recently....."

Jax never finished the sentence. The minute his eyes met Carly’s, something happened. A connection bridged the gap between them – like lightning trapped in a bottle. {What is it that Sean always says? Déjà vu all over again?} It wasn’t a "Don’t-I-know-you?" feeling – more of a "You-seem-like-someone-I-SHOULD-know" sense. Like a meeting of souls. But then, as he studied Carly Corinthos up close and personal, he realized that part of her reaction might have been fear. After all, he WAS a complete stranger, meeting a beautiful, single woman out of the blue in a deserted place. Jax momentarily touched the area around his eyes. Maybe the bruises from the surgery were scaring her. But they had healed several days earlier. {This is crazy! She’s looking at me like…….like she KNOWS me somehow! But the part of Sonny’s eyes that was transplanted into mine doesn’t show. My eyes are still the same color -- they still look the same.}

Carly put her hand to her chest.

{What’s going on with me? I have no idea who this man is, yet he feels so......it’s like he’s so.... familiar....} Carly shook her head ever so slightly, trying to clear her thoughts. {You can’t trust him, Carly. You trusted Sonny, and look what it brought you. Heartache, pain…..and suspicion of murder. He’s probably just another liar.}

Both of them jumped at the sound of a slamming car door, but then when an older man appeared, they realized it was just another mourner. He had a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand, and as Jax and Carly watched silently, he went to another gravesite and lay them reverently on the headstone.

"Well, Mr....Jacks," Carly said in a halting fashion, "I appreciate your sympathies, but I really should be going." She started walking back towards her car, taking a wide path around where Jax stood.

"Mrs. Corinthos," Jax called out to her, raising a hand, "I’m from.....well, not around here," he explained. "Would you at least take my business card, and call me if you ever need anything?"

Carly gave Jax a strange look. {Why would a man I’ve never seen before, or heard Sonny speak of, want to help me? Maybe he IS some kind of pervert…..} "I appreciate the offer, Mr. Jacks, but I’m fine. I won’t need any help from you, or anyone else." She continued moving back towards the street where her car was parked as Jax faintly noticed the sound of squealing tires as a car left the cemetery in a hurry.

{Probably some joy-riding teenagers. In a town this small, they probably get their kicks coming out to the local cemetery and scaring the old folks.} Jax was so busy mentally berating the juvenile delinquents that Carly had arrived at her car and opening the door to get in. "Well, if you change your mind, I’m going to be staying in town for a few days."

Carly froze at the car, looking back at Jax with a frown. "Really?"

"I’ve got a few details here to take care of -- other business," Jax lied smoothly. He continued to approach her car until he was only about five feet from the passenger door. "Anyway, I’ll be staying at the Baldwin Bed and Breakfast if you think of any way that I can be of some help to you."

Carly was about to thank Jax again for being so thoughtful, but as she opened the door to her car to get in, bile rose in her throat. Lying on the front passenger seat, in plain view for anyone to see, was a lethal looking handgun. And Carly Corinthos never owned a gun, or even touched one, in her life.

She absently looked back up at Jax, who was approaching the car. "The Baldwin Bed and Breakfast. Got it!!" She got in the car as quickly as she could, throwing her purse on top of the pistol. Carly had no idea who this Jasper Jacks person was, but she also had a pretty good idea what anyone who saw the gun would think. Detective Taggert’s suspicious looks had convinced her that the police thought she had a motive. Now -- if they saw a .40 pistol in the front seat of her car, they would say she had the weapon, too. The shot that killed Sonny Corinthos had come from a .40 pistol. A .40 pistol was not as common as a .38. It was more unique – more identifiable – more damning, sitting on the front seat of her car in plain view.

Jax kept approaching the car, even as Carly appeared to be extraordinarily anxious to get away from him. The setting autumn sun brought out golden highlights in Carly’s hair, but then when Jax almost got close enough to the car to touch the handle, it reflected off something in the front passenger seat before she threw her purse down to cover it. Jax squinted and fumbled for his dark glasses, momentarily disoriented by the glare. But Jax was a veteran agent, and he knew there was only one thing that would give a reflection like that – the cold, hard steel of a gun.

Carly started the engine and roared away from her parking place so quickly that she never saw Jax’s reaction to the reflection off the gun. His hand flew to his eyes and a searing pain blossomed in his skull. At first, he wasn’t sure if it meant that he was rejecting the corneas, but then as the pain receded, the blurred apparition began again.

He was standing in a darkened room. The moonlight was gleaming off the barrel of a .40 pistol, much like it had when it flashed in Jax’s eyes. He heard a low voice saying, "No – wait – let me explain!" It wasn’t Jax’s voice, but it was like it was coming from inside him. Then he heard the loud report of the weapon being fired, and then another report as the shooter fired again.

It was the second shot that took him down. The second shot hit him squarely in the chest, wounding him mortally in the heart. Jax grabbed for his own chest as he felt the gripping pain and the breathlessness. He vaguely "saw" someone’s feet passing him as he fell facedown on a green rug. He could literally feel the lifeblood draining out of him. As he choked and reached towards the door, which the killer had left open, Jax felt himself passing into darkness.

Jax took his hand away from his eyes, opening them fearfully. But it wasn’t dark. It was sunset, and he was in Port Charles, in the cemetery. {Oh, my God! Another flashback….Could that have been…..Was that Sonny Corinthos’s murder?} Jax crouched down for a minute to catch his breath. {So then, was that the murder weapon? In Carly’s car? I’ve had lights shining in my eyes a lot since the surgery, but it never triggered this kind of reaction before. So, if that was the murder weapon, is Carly really…..}

Jax’s speculations were interrupted when he realized that his chances of ever catching up to Carly Corinthos and that gun were rapidly slipping away. He flipped his dark glasses back down, trotted back to his Explorer, started the engine, and took off following her as well as he could. When he got to the entrance to the cemetery, he could barely see the glow from her taillights as her car sped off towards the Port Charles suburbs.

Carly drove like all the hounds of h*ll were chasing her. She glanced in her rear view mirror a few times, but there were no police cars anywhere to be seen. {What should I do? I can’t take this gun home! I have to get rid of it!!} Carly’s mind spun with endless possibilities, but then she made a snap decision. Checking her side mirror, she changed lanes and headed for the outskirts of town and the Port Charles River.

{I’ll just drive to the MacArthur Bridge, put my gloves on, make sure nobody’s around, and then toss it in the River. Nobody will find it, and even if they do, there won’t be any way to tie it to me.} Carly began to breathe a little easier as the plan took shape in her mind. {You’ll be OK now, Carly. Try to calm down.} The thought of how the gun had gotten into her car in the first place never occurred to her.

Jax continued to follow Carly’s car, frowning more broadly with each mile. {What the bloody h*ll is she doing? If she’s *not* guilty, she’s sure giving every impression of someone who is. Why would she be racing towards.....wherever she’s going? Is she meeting someone? Does she think somebody’s after her?} Jax checked his own rearview mirror, but he and Carly were the only ones on this road that seemed to lead towards the river that gave this sleepy town its name.

Carly could see the support beams of the bridge when she decided she was going too fast. Her brilliant plan wouldn’t be worth a d*mn if she got pulled over for speeding. She applied her foot to the brake, but nothing happened. Carly stomped down hard on the brake pedal, but the car just kept hurtling towards the MacArthur Bridge at 50 miles per hour. A scream ground from her throat as she vainly attempted to change gears or apply the emergency brake. Nothing worked.

Jax frowned when he saw the approaching bridge. {What’s she trying to do – get herself killed? She’ll never make that turnoff for the bridge if she doesn’t slow down.} Jax gripped the steering wheel tighter and growled some obscenities when he saw a small delivery van approaching them from the opposite direction.

{Oh, God….another car.} Carly prayed aloud hysterically. {God, if it’s really my day to die, please don’t let me take anybody else with me. PLEASE help me get around this van!} She took hold of the steering wheel and swerved it sharply to the right as the driver of the van began honking his horn at her frantically.

{She’s going to hit him…..no – she’s going to …….My God! She’s never going to make the bridge!!} Jax watched in horror as Carly’s car careened through the wooden guardrail on the approach to the bridge. She had avoided the van, but apparently lost control of her car and it left the road completely, breaking through the small fence and then heading down the gentle slope towards the river.

Carly winced as her car broke through the guardrail. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the approaching water and she pumped the brake pedal again, praying that the grassy surface would slow her speed. But it was no use. The last thing Carly saw was the plume of water that exploded into the air when her car entered the river.

Jax never realized he shouted aloud as he saw Carly’s car skid into the water and begin to sink rapidly. Not giving it a second thought, he jerked his own steering wheel to the right, following the path Carly had made through the guardrail and across the grassy embankment. When he was only about 25 feet from the river’s edge, Jax spun the wheel to put his car in a position parallel to the river and killed the engine. His eyes never leaving Carly’s almost-completely submerged car, Jax ripped off his lightweight jacket. He jumped out of his Explorer, gripping the door for balance as his feet hit the marshy ground of the riverbank.

Jax pulled off his sunglasses and began to empty the contents of his pants pockets on the driver’s seat. He was about to take off for the river when a bulge in his jacket pocket caught his attention. He fumbled in the pocket and pulled out his cell phone, praying that he had enough battery power left for one call. He did.

They answered his call on the first ring. "911 Emergency. How can I help you?"

"There’s been a horrible accident! A woman’s car left the road and went in the river with her still in it! Send some help!"

The woman’s voice was monotone. "Can you tell me what road you’re on, sir? The Port Charles River skirts several roads in this area."

"No, I’m not from around here!" Jax ruffled his hair with his free hand, looking around desperately for a road sign. "Wait…." He squinted against the setting sun. "There’s a sign – the MacArthur Bridge. Does that help? We’re on the western side."

"I’ve got units on the way, sir. Now just stay there and don’t do any….."

Jax never heard her finish the sentence as he pushed the "end" button and threw the phone onto the seat. Kicking off his shoes as he ran to the water’s edge, Jax screamed at Carly’s car, which now had completely sunk below the water’s surface. "I’m coming, Carly! I’ll save you!"

Jax never thought about his transplanted corneas and the danger of infection from the river water. He never thought about Dr. Cohen’s warnings to "take it easy" for six months. Jax dove decisively into the murky water, praying that he wouldn’t be too late to save the beautiful, fiery, red-haired woman who seemed to be so much a part of his life – both "his" past, and his own future.

To be continued…..

Song credit: "Beautiful Stranger," written by Madonna and William Orbit, from the movie, "Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me"