Well, here's the first of the series.  Jon and Jess return home to take care of a few loose ends.

Characters and associated details are property and copyright Hanna-Barbera. This work is intended for the enjoyment of other fans and not for profit.

SAPPINESS WARNING:  This story is EXTREMELY sappy, especially towards the end; and worse still, it's based on a song.

(Diabetics should take note.)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Quest team, and wish only the best for them.  So there.

The Future (Real?) Adventures of Jonny Quest

Where Do You Start
by Winnie Lim

        Jessica Bannon pulled up in front of the Quest mansion.  A trailer stood out in front, surrounded with packing cases.

        As she grabbed her duffel and got out of her car, she saw a man come out of the house.  He stopped when he saw her.  She walked quickly towards him, and he met her half-way.

        Jonathan Quest opened his arms and Jessica walked into them, the two of them laughing as they embraced.  His lips
brushed her cheek chastely as he released her and held her at arms' length, looking at her.

        "It's good to see you again," he said, smiling.  "How are you?"

        "I'm fine.  How are *you?*" she asked, looking into his blue eyes with concern.  There were dark circles under his eyes, and the evidence of a healing cut on his forehead.  She had felt bristly stubble on his face when he'd kissed her, and he'd grown noticeably thinner since the last time she'd seen him.

        "I'm all right," he said.  His eyes flicked back at the house, and she saw a cloud pass across his face before he
returned his gaze to her.

        "I know," she replied to his unspoken pain, and pressed his wrist gently.

        "Thanks for coming," he said.

        "Wild horses couldn't keep me away," she said.  He picked up her duffel, and they walked into the house.

        Packing crates were strewn everywhere.  Jessie drew in a breath, feeling the memories come crowding in on her.

        "I know," Jon said, feeling her pause.  "I felt that way when I got here yesterday."

        Jessie forced a smile on her face.  "Let's get started."

        Jon put a hand on her shoulder.  "You just got here.  And I need a break anyway."

        They entered the kitchen.  The cabinets all hung open and empty.  The refrigerator was the only remaining appliance.  It
would go to the future tenants.

        A couple of coolers stood on the counter.  Jon went to one of them and opened it.  "Jolt, Kona or Mountain Dew?" he
asked.

        "God, Quest, don't you plan on sleeping while you're here?" she laughed.  "I'll take a Kona."  He passed her a bottle
and took out one for himself.

        Opening the other cooler, he said,  "I've got some, uh, Cheetoes... Doritos... chips..."  His voice trailed off when he
saw the amused look on her face.

        "I've had lunch," she assured him.  "How you get so big eating food of this kind?" she added in her best Yoda imitation.
He grinned and pulled out a bag of Doritos.

        They sat in companionable silence, drinking their sodas and sharing the corn chips.

        "How's work?" he asked at last.

        "Going okay," she replied.  "I'm kind of between contracts at the moment.  I finished the translation work on
those extraterrestrial signals two days ago." She smiled.  "Everybody was all excited, and I was doing my best to act
surprised."

        "Anything that looks like it might be from Dad?"  Jon asked, trying to sound casual.

        Jessica shook her head.  "I'm sorry.  Has he contacted you?"

        "No," Jon said.  "I guess Alice is keeping him busy."  He quickly changed the subject.  "I got an e-mail from Hadji.  He's sorry he can't come over to help with the packing, but being Sultan is a full-time job."

        "And with the baby on the way, I guess it would be even harder to get away from Bangalore," Jessica agreed. "Sonja's,
what, 2 months away from delivery?"

        "Hard to imagine our Hadji as a dad," Jon smiled.

        "Well, he was always the most responsible one of us," Jessica pointed out. "Speaking of which... how is Linda?"

        Jon shrugged.  "I think she's fine.  She went home to Connecticut to marry her childhood sweetheart."

        She looked at him, waiting for him to continue.  As she knew he would, he did. "She didn't like  all the secrecy of my
work," he said.  "Or my schedule.  Or the way I ate my soup.  Or the color of my ties..."

        "Since when did you wear ties?"  Jessica asked, smiling.

        "She wanted me to.  So I thought, fine, I'll humor her, but I might as well have some fun with it, you know?"  Jessie
nodded.  "Anyway, that was the beginning of the end," he finished, and quirked an eyebrow.  "What about you?  Won't Chuck
be worried that you disappeared off the face of the earth like this?"

        "If he cared," she replied.  "We broke up last month.  He wanted to own me.  I told him I didn't appreciate him trying to
take over my life."

        Jon pretended to wince.  "Ouch.  Big blow to his ego, huh."

        "Yeah, well, I dumped him first," Jessica stated.  "Mom's going to be disappointed.  She was the one who introduced him to me."  She took a swig of her Kona.  "And that's the last time I let my mom fix me up."

        "How'd she take the news?"

        "Don't know. I sent her a letter,  but she's somewhere in the Amazon now, so I'm not sure if it got to her yet.  Dad's
ecstatic, though, he never liked Chuck."

        "Grandpa can't say enough good things about Race," Jon smiled.  "Every time I call him he thanks me for sending your dad along."

        "Yeah, Dad's pretty psyched, too," Jessica agreed.  "He's almost grateful he listened to us and retired."  She leaned
forward, her face serious.  "Look, Jon - I know what happened in Madagascar.  Are you okay?"

        Jon's face darkened briefly.  "I'm fine.  It was...It comes with the territory," he said.

        "Jonny, narrowly escaping getting blown up by a car bomb comes with no territory I know," she said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

        "I didn't want you to worry," he said.

        "Too late.  I worried anyway," Jessica said.  "And why did you lie? Why did you tell me you had been in a Zen retreat
when you were really in the hospital?  And why did I have to find out from Dad?"

        "I told him not to tell anyone," Jon said.

        "I'm not 'anyone.'  I'm your friend," Jessica retorted.  "At least, I thought I was."

        "Jessie..."  Sadness came into Jon's eyes.  "You were working on a sensitive project.  I didn't want you to be
distracted."

        "Jonny..."  She reached across and took his hand.  "I appreciate that you consider my work to be more important than
you.  I even accept your logic.  The news would have been distracting."  Her hand tightened around his.  "But *you* are
important to me.  And you lied to me."

        "Ow," he said.  "I'm sorry, okay?"

        "Just promise me you won't do it again," she said.

        "I promise," he said, fixing his eyes on hers.  "The next time some terrorist tries to blow me up, you'll be the first to
know."

        "Good," she said.

        "Fine," he replied.

        Their gaze stayed locked for a long moment.

        "Let's get to work," she said at last.

        Jon went over to his father's jukebox in the corner of the living room.  He considered the selections, then shrugged and
pressed the "randomize" button.  "Some music to pack by," he grinned, turning up the volume as the strains of "Johnny B Goode" came pounding out.

        Jessica smiled.  "Nothing like Chuck Berry to get you in the mood." Jon turned on the house intercom so that the music
would filter throughout the house.

        They moved from room to room, packing systematically.  At times one of them would find a particular object, and call the other over.

        This house is so full of memories, Jessica thought as she watched Jon carefully place a Malenque artifact in a protective container.  How can he stand to give it up?

        She knew the answer, of course.  Jon's anti-terrorism consultant group required him to work closely with the FBI, and
simple logic demanded that he be based in Virginia.  She herself had her communications technology consultancy in Houston.  Hadji was busy running Bangalore, halfway across the world.  Race was helping Doug Wildey run his ranch in New Mexico.  The whole Quest team was scattered across the globe - across the universe, in some cases, she thought with a smile - and the house on Palm Key stood empty.

        Better to hand it over to a family who would fill it with their own memories.

        That still didn't make it any easier.  But it was Jon's decision, now that his father was gone.  And she could
understand.  The house was *too* full of memories.

        She remembered the morning when she'd received the phone call.  Jon had been cool, and calm, but she'd detected an edge of panic in his voice when he told her about the package he'd received from his father.  She'd rushed over to Palm Key
immediately.

        Benton Quest's farewell note was in the letter, along with his will.  He said that he felt his work was finished, that
there was nothing else he could do on this world.  So he had contacted Alice Starseer and taken up her invitation, offered so
long ago, to see the universe.

        The will left everything to Jon, with more than generous provisions for Hadji, Jessica and Race.

        Two months afterwards, Jon told her that he was selling the house.

        Despite the frequent interruptions of "Remember this?" and "I haven't seen that since...", the work progressed fairly
quickly.  They were finishing up the living room when the tempo of the jukebox's music changed.

     "Where do you start?
      How do you separate the present from the past?"

        Jessica looked up.  The song was unfamiliar, and yet she felt like she'd known it all her life.

     "How do you deal with all the things you thought would last?
      That didn't last;
      With bits of memories scattered here and there
      I look around and don't know where to start..."

        She glanced at Jon as he methodically took books off the shelves and noted their titles on a clipboard before he carefully placed them in a box.  She turned back to the bank of CDs, videotapes and laserdisks she was supposed to be packing.

     "Which books are yours?
      Which tapes and dreams belong to you and which are mine?"

        She looked out the French windows, out to the porch. They had spent many warm Florida evenings sitting on the porch,
talking about the past, the present... and the future.

     "Our lives are tangled like the branches of a vine
      That intertwine
      So many habits that we'll have to break, and yesterdays
      we'll have to take apart..."

        Jon's breath caught in his throat.  Saying goodbye to Palm Key was going to be one of the hardest things he'd ever have
to do.  There were so many memories here.

     All the happy memories of his mother.

     The day he'd first met Jessie.

     "One day there'll be a song or something in the air again
      To catch me by surprise, and we'll be there again,
      A moment in what might have been..."

        He glanced out the French windows, out to the lawn.  He could almost see the tow-headed little boy and the carrot-topped little girl running across the lawn, almost hear their laughter.

     "Where do you start?
      Do you allow yourself a little time to cry?
      Or do you close your eyes and kiss it all goodbye?
      I guess you'll try..."

        He saw Jessica looking out the windows as well, and moved across the room to join her.  She looked at him, and he put his arm around her shoulders.  She leaned into him, sliding an arm around his waist.

     "And though I don't know where and don't know when
      I'll find myself in love again..."

     "We had some good times here," Jon said.  His eyes suddenly felt moist.

     "I know," Jessica replied, her voice catching in her throat.

     "I promise there will always be
      A little place no one will see..."

     "I'm going to miss this place," Jessica said.
     "Me too," Jon said.  Jessica turned her head slightly, and saw his eyes fixed on her.

     "A tiny part deep in my heart
      That stays in love with you."

        "Jessie..." he began, and stopped, his throat suddenly dry.

        "Jonny," she replied simply.

END
(maybe)

"Where Do You Start" © Johnny Mandel (music) and Marilyn & Alan Bergman (lyrics), and first recorded by Michael Feinstein for his "Isn't It Romantic" album.

© 1997 Winnie Lim