Hankies out, everybody, this one’s gonna be bad. My second-ever story, based on my favorite film of all time.

The characters belong to Hanna-Barbera. The plot belongs to Waner Brothers. The intent is enjoyment and creativity, not monetary gain. The quality, well, that's anybody's guess, but if they don't want to write more JQ stories, then somebody's gotta do it.

Archive away. Inspired by Winnie Lim's song-stories, fueled by a wonderfully romantic date, based on a timeless film, and written on a particularly boring day at work, I present...

THE REAL BITTERSWEET ADVENTURES OF JONNY QUEST

Synopsis: More than a decade after the series setting., of all the gin joints in all the world, Jessie walks into Jonny's.

"AS TIME GOES BY"

by Eric R. Umali

Jonathan Quest drummed his fingers on his desk. Bored, as usual, he rubbed his eyes and tried once more to focus on the computer screen before him. On it was a wire frame model displaying the latest modifications to an orbital transport shuttle being designed by Quest Technologies, a company at the leading edge of scientific development. His company.

Well, at least it was supposed to be. It was left to him in his early twenties, and he grudgingly took on the role of CEO, knowing full well his talents lay elsewhere. But for his father, he did it, and did it surprisingly well. QT's stock quadrupled in value in a year, and continued its meteoric rise, even now, less than eight years since.

But for Jonathan Quest, standing at the top of the world, all the money, power or prestige in the world meant little. Ever since he could remember, his dreams led him to adventures in distant jungles or deserted islands, not in the steel canyons or cavernous boardrooms of the city.

He stared at the screen. The wide, efficient, blocky stance of the transport shuttle blurred and resolved into the long, sleek lines of a long gone, but fondly remembered form. The Dragonfly. The SST that had ferried him and his extended family to so many daring exploits, so many faraway places that most could only dream about. He spent many hours of his youth either there, or aboard the Questor, the big twin-hulled ship they employed as well.

Immediately, his mind was filled with faces. His late father, Dr. Benton Quest, with his russet beard was in the middle of one of his usual lectures. Race Bannon, the family's bodyguard, and Jonathan's boyhood hero, tore a path through a lush rain forest. His best friend, Hadji Singh, meditated somewhere quietly. Even Bandit, his dog, nipped at Jonathan's memory.

And then...

Squeezing the memories out of his vision, Jonathan rose from the desk. He grabbed his coat from the hook, and stormed through the office door. As he walked quickly and deliberately through the building, he ignored everyone around him. They were used to it, though. His secretary knew exactly where to find him if he was needed, and the other employees had learned to gauge the boss' temper.

A few long-timers there shook their heads in sadness. They remembered the tow-headed kid who loved to tear around the room on an office chair, and the quick minded teenager with the ready smile who got to know the technology development area like the back of his hand. How Jonny Quest could have turned into the angry young man before them, they couldn't imagine.

Even Jonathan's driver knew where to go without instruction. He drove speedily down the crowded New York streets to 57th and Broadway.

To Jonny's.

Opened four years ago, what had been planned as a small nightclub and dinner spot had become the city's hottest night spot. Anyone who was anyone came there, but were treated just like the tourists off the street. It was huge and elaborately decorated, and the staff were well trained and strictly instructed to make sure everyone who came in felt like they belonged. Someone had finally combined a glitzy nightclub with a neighborhood pub and pulled it off. Everyone who came to town knew that if you went anywhere, this was the place you went. Soon after it opened, the same phrase was on the lips of everyone who mentioned New York City night life.

"Everyone comes to Jonny's."

Jonathan came in through the back entrance, then made his way to the small private room that overlooked the entire floor. He was surprised that someone was already there, relaxing comfortably on the couch, listening to the stereo. Usually he was the first one there Friday nights.

He knew who it was, and his anger subsided. He tossed his coat on the rack and loosened his tie. He sank into the big easy chair that faced the big two-way mirror that let him watch the revelry below. He saw the dancers writhing to a beat that was mercifully shut out of the room. As his eyes tracked across the main floor, he heard the CD player change disks. A slightly scratchy sound came out, and a lonely piano began playing.

"You must remember this- A kiss is just a kiss, A sigh is just a sigh. The fundamental things apply, As time goes by..."

Jonathan swiveled the chair around. "Nice choice, Hadj."

Hadji Singh looked up from the sofa. "Thank you. I was wondering if you'd even noticed I was here."

"Of course I noticed," he replied, genuinely hurt a little. "You're still my best friend. You're the only one left, though I'll never understand why you decided to stick around."

"We've been over this before, my friend." Hadji shifted. He was still a little taller than Jonathan, but had gotten a little plump during his reign as Sultan of Bangalore. "When the people of Bangalore decided they wanted a democracy, I did not want to stand it their way. I am glad it was an... amicable separation. You are the only family I have left."

"Same here, Hadj, same here." Jonathan turned back to the window. He felt Hadji walk up behind him.

"Jonny?" Hadji was the only one who still called him that. "I believe there is something you should know."

"What's that?"

"We have a very special guest tonight." Hadji sat on the arm of the chair and pointed to the dining area. There, sitting at a small table, was a ghost Jonathan had never thought he'd see again. Even far away, even in the dim light, even with her back to him, he could not mistake the flame red tint of her hair, the curve of her neck and her shoulders.

Jessie.

Jonathan rose and placed his hands on the window. He could barely make himself speak.

"How. . . how long has she been here?"

"Almost an hour."

"Who's that man with her?"

"I do not know. I was waiting for you before I went to see her."

"I don't know if I can, Hadj."

"But you do know you have to."

On the way down the stairs, Jonathan straightened his tie. "How do I look?"

"Very nice."

They approached the table from behind. Jonathan screwed his courage up and breathed in.

"Welcome to Jonny's."

With a start, Jessica Bannon turned to see the young man who spoke. Her sparkling green eyes widened, and she leapt from her chair.

"Jonny!"

She embraced him, and tightly. After several seconds, she did the same for Hadji.

"I didn't know this was your place."

"That it is. How are you, Jess?"

"Oh, wonderful. Jonny, Hadji, I'd like you to meet Robert Taylor... my husband."

The handsome man opposite her stood, and shook a surprised Hadji's hand. He turned to Jonathan and took his.

"So you're the famous Jonny Quest. I had a hard time living up to you, trying to win Jessica here."

Jonathan shook the hand firmly. To Hadji's befuddlement, his friend's face remained in the pleasant, businesslike mask he usually wore. The waiter came up with check in hand. Robert reached for it, but Jonathan was faster.

"Don't even think about it. On the management."

They thanked him politely, and started to stand. Robert headed out to get the car. Jessica looked at Jonathan apologetically.

"I didn't know how to tell you..."

"It's all right, Jess. After what happened, I certainly couldn't expect you to be pining away for me all these years, could I?"

"I wanted to get in touch, but I never found the time. You know how it is."

"I know. Are you going to be in town long?"

"A few days."

"Call me," he said, handing her his business card, "I'd like to have lunch and reminisce, what do you say?"

"Of course."

She kissed him on the cheek, and left.

Hadji knew better than to say a word. He went off to the kitchen to oversee operations. Jonathan returned to the private room. But not before stopping by the bar to retrieve a large bottle of brandy and a snifter glass. He had thought of simply taking a glass of the spirit, but then again, Jessie Bannon was not a woman easily erased from memory.

*************************

Jonathan raised his head, and it swam in an alcohol-induced haze. He could barely make out the numbers on his watch. 11:23 PM. He blinked his bleary eyes and read again. That's it, he thought, just 11:23? The bottle stood empty and long dry on the end table beside him. His fingertips rested on the lip of the equally dry snifter.

He was drunk. He knew it. He did it on purpose, and it had worked.

Jonathan was so busy telling himself this, he didn't notice the stereo finish its cycle and restart. Even playing fairly loud, it took an entire verse to pierce the cloud around Jonathan's head.

"And when two lovers woo, They still say, 'I love you'- On that you can rely. No matter what the future brings, As time goes by..."

He was wrong about the brandy. Nothing in the world could possibly have the power to force Jessie Bannon from his mind. Not her face, not her form, not her voice, not her passion. Resigning himself, he went back. Back to nearly ten years before.

To Paris.

*************************

Jessie Bannon stepped out of the taxi right out in front of the Hotel George V. She inhaled deeply, taking in every detail around her: the smell of the nearby flower girl's colorful wares, the feel of the warm sun on her fair skin, the sight of the Eiffel Tower, framing the postcard perfect moment. She smiled, and it got wider when her companion turned from paying the cabbie.

She was there to spend a week getting to know the city before beginning her first year at the Sorbonne. Walking up to her now was her usual companion and best friend, Jonny Quest, there to keep her company, and, as her father had put it, "keep her out of trouble."

They had laughed together over that instruction on the plane. It was usually Jessie who had to keep Jonny out of trouble. Jonny couldn't count how many adventures and misadventures they'd shared over the years, and many of them involved the impetuous Jonny leaping into action, with Jessie as the only voice of reason. Not that she didn't love adventure herself. That was one of the reasons Jonny loved to have her with him.

After dropping off their bags and resting a bit, they decided to have lunch at a café on the Rive Gauche and go walking. Conversation stretched lunch to two hours, and the walk to several more.

Soon it was quite dark, and they found themselves at the foot of the Eiffel Tower.

"Do you think it's still open, Jonny?"

"Only one way to find out, Jess."

They rushed to the entrance to find the guard starting to close the gate. They pleaded in French.

"Oh, but we just want a short look."

"I'm sorry, but we're closed for the night."

"It'll only take ten minutes."

"It's our last day in Paris. We leave early tomorrow."

The guard sighed. "Very well. Ten minutes at the main observation deck. The top is already locked off."

"Yes, yes, thank you!"

He let them into the elevator, and sent them up alone. He told them he would bring the elevator down in ten minutes, with or without them. Watching them rise, he shook his head. He remembered what it was like. "L'amour..." he sighed, and returned to his post.

They got off and immediately ran to the ledge. Paris, in all her glory, glowed below them. They stood there, silent for a while. Jessie looked down to find they had been holding hands the whole time. She looked at him.

"Jonny, there's something I want to tell you. Something I've been meaning to say for a long time."

He turned to her, and caressed her face with his free hand.

"You don't need to say a thing. I know."

"You do?"

"I just realized it, yes, but I think I've known for a long time."

"I'm still going to say it."

"You were always stubborn."

She was about to retort, when she thought better of it. She braced herself.

"I love you, Jonny. I always have. Ever since..."

Jonny brought both his hands up, and framed her face between them, drinking in the moment. He guided her closer.

"Since the moment we met, I know. I love you too, Jessie."

They kissed.

They'd always been very close, and he'd stolen a goodnight peck or two on their not-really-dates dates. But this was different. This was love. The feeling flooded them, and stretched out in all directions, drawing them ever closer, and shutting out the world. Later, they would swear the moment lasted forever.

Breathless, they parted.

They returned to the hotel, and after several hours more of soul-touching kisses, they retired.

They had thought to be young and in Paris would be an adventure. To be young and in Paris and in love was the greatest adventure of their lives. The week passed far too quickly, though their moments together moved with a pace all their own, squeezing years into each hour. And each hour, their feelings grew even more.

She cried on the last night, realizing that they'd been so foolish to let this wait for so long. He held her to him, promising that no matter where they'd go, they would always be together. Kissing him, she decided they would seal that pact tonight.

The next morning, he awoke to the pleasant sensation of Jessie's head laying on his chest. But even as the night and the morning were bliss, his departure at the airport was torture. Jessie could not stop the tears, and when they came to Jonny, even his will was not strong enough. They left, with a promise in their hearts to love each other forever.

The following year was filled with epic length e-mails and marathon phone calls, laments over their separation, and vow after vow of undying love. When she returned to the compound over the holidays, they were barely able to bide their time until they had some time alone.

Then, that summer, the letters and calls stopped. After a month of continually missing her, Jonny finally got her on the videophone. She looked as if she'd been crying for a week. She looked up into the camera, shook, then sobbed, "I'm sorry, Jonny..." and turned away, ending the transmission. Confused and enraged, Jonny tore the phone from its mountings and tossed it out a fourth story window.

*************************

"It's still the same old story, A fight for love and glory, A case of do or die. The world will always welcome lovers, As time goes by..."

That was the last he'd seen of the... the... He sighed. Even now, he couldn't think anything bad about her. The stereo went on with some other love song. He couldn't take it. He picked the snifter up from the end table and hurled it at the stereo. It smashed spectacularly, shattering and flying everywhere.

From the back of his mind, a gruff voice intoned, "of all the gin joints in all the world, she had to walk into mine." He didn't know where he'd heard it, but it was pretty damn appropriate.

There was a knock at the door. He stomped to it, throwing it open.

"Hadj, you know better than to..." he looked out. It wasn't Hadji. It was Jessie. Jessica, he reminded himself. It's Jessica now. We're adults. Sobriety came immediately.

"Hi, Jonny-Jonathan, sorry. Can I come in?"

"Of course. Watch for the glass."

She stepped in carefully.

"I didn't know you drank."

"I don't. Except on special occasions."

The realization hit her like a brick. He was right. It was their anniversary; ten years ago that day, they'd...

"Why'd you come here?"

"I didn't know it was your place. I just knew it was where one went in New York. I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

There was a long silence.

"Was it him?"

"What?"

"Was it Richard, ten years ago?"

"No. It was... well, it doesn't matter. I met Richard on an archaelogical dig in Peru three years ago. I really did sit around and pine away for you for years, Jonathan."

"Then why didn't you call me?"

"I thought you hated me."

"I could never do that, you know that."

"I know. I think I was just guilty."

"But now?"

"Now, I'm very happy. What about you?"

"I'm fine. This place is great. Hadji runs it so well, I don't even need to come. And QT is the biggest kid on the block."

"I know all that, Jonathan. What about you?"

"It doesn't matter. All the happiness I had inside me died ten years ago."

She embraced him. "Jonny, I... I still love you."

"I know, Jessie, and I still love you, too."

They kissed, and they were back on the Eiffel Tower, the rest of the world a faraway place. They parted, and he pushed her away.

"What is it, Jonny? You said..."

"And I meant it. But you can't... we can't do this. You have a life. A husband. Our love may not be gone, but it simply can't be. Not anymore."

She was going to argue. But she couldn't. "You're right. I'd better go."

He led her to the door. She turned. "It was wonderful being in love with you, Jonny Quest. It would've been even better if we'd stayed that way."

He held her again, feeling her hair against his cheek.

"We'll always have Paris..." he whispered.

They kissed once more. Jessie turned and left before he could see her tears.

Jonny closed the door. He walked to the stereo, the shattered glass crunching beneath his feet. He touched the controls, then collapsed in his chair. Wordlessly, Hadji stepped into the office, poured two more glasses of brandy, and took a seat next to his friend. Outside, Jessie cried quietly as she walked down the street.

THE END.

Please comment. I know, I know, I nudged J&J over "the line," but hey, they were young, they were in Paris, they were in love-you'd have to be frozen solid not to give in. And if anyone doesn't like the not- happy ending, watch the movie, and tell me if it would be a tenth as romantic if Ilsa didn't get on that plane with Lazlo and stayed with Rick.