"If only our football team's doctor had been as skilled as you." JJ stretched her leg muscles, letting out a satisfied groan.
"You played football?" Jack was a bit surprised; she had never mentioned this before.
Although JJ used the word "football" instead of "soccer," it was clear she was referring to women's English football, not American football.
After all, in the USA, women's football, due to the rise of the "Lingerie Bowl," had gained a somewhat different connotation.
"An athletic scholarship was my best shot at college and my only way out of that place," JJ recalled.
"I was born in a small town surrounded by forests, with only about a thousand residents. My father used to be a hunter, so I was a wild child from a young age."
"I grew up hunting, fishing, and playing in the wild with my father."
Jack was a little shocked. He couldn't imagine that JJ, whose personality was so different from Hannah's, had such a similar childhood—well, except for the family background.
"But didn't you say your parents lived in Silver Spring?"
Silver Spring wasn't some remote small town; it was home to the famous Silver Spring Art Center and the headquarters of the Discovery Channel.
"My dad loves the Discovery Channel, you know. After the airline compensation, I sponsored them a bit, so they planned to spend a few years traveling the country to fulfill their bucket list."
"I should have guessed." Jack's fingers traced her now smooth legs, where old scars had become barely noticeable.
Although he didn't know what had changed JJ, shaping her into the gentle person she was now, just like Hannah back then, he knew that one day, she would completely open up to him.
"Speaking of which..." Sensing that JJ might be slipping into some unpleasant memories, Jack quickly changed the subject.
"Today at the subway station, when I was holding a bag full of deadly substances, and there was a half-crushed zombie beside me, I was really, really scared. The adrenaline rush was just overwhelming..."
A smile tugged at JJ's lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and silenced the rest of his rambling with a sweet kiss.
---
Back in Los Angeles, Jack finally started to relax. After all his efforts, he had finally mastered his woodworking skills.
He then worked on a large piece of boxwood and carved a set of wooden figures, which he gifted to Zoe and Maureen as a wedding present.
The wooden figures were housed in a large wooden box, consisting of six pairs—twelve in total. Although the faces were depicted in a cartoonish style, anyone familiar with the two ladies could easily recognize the expressions as Zoe and Maureen's.
The figures struck various poses. Jack not only referenced the "48 Hands of Edo" and the Kama Sutra but also thoughtfully made little clothes out of silk and other fabrics, complete with outerwear and lingerie, even including garter belts.
When you placed any two figures together, they could form some blush-inducing positions, revealing Jack's past life as a seasoned model enthusiast.
The wooden box also had a secret compartment. Opening it revealed another six wooden figures with similarly cartoonish heads, which Jack had carved while looking in a mirror.
If three figures were placed together... well, in any case, this gift received unanimous praise from the two ladies. They pulled Jack aside for an in-depth discussion about some of the important knowledge points involved.
In the following days, according to the progress bar, Jack's cooking skills were also nearing an upgrade. To quickly savor the delicacies that would come with master-level cooking, he began baking a large variety of pastries to gain experience.
However, the BAU team was too small and had limited capacity to consume them, especially since he had been encouraging Garcia to work out at the gym every day.
And continually bringing snacks to Hannah's colleagues downstairs was asking for trouble. Several "ungrateful" female agents, knowing full well that Jack was taken, still frequently flirted with him, making Hannah increasingly irritable every day.
With no other choice, the Wilshire Police Station became Jack's final option. Nearly every other day, he would drop by the station under the guise of improving relations with local law enforcement.
Today, Jack made another batch of French desserts—mousse cakes, Mont Blanc, macarons, Breton cakes, and Napoleon pastries. The moment they arrived at the Wilshire Police Station, they were met with cheers from the officers.
"You're really not asking us for a favor, are you? We're running out of thank-you cards to give you."
Tim joked with Jack, feigning concern.
The thank-you cards Tim mentioned were another unique feature of this country, closely tied to the police's elusive discretionary powers.
Within various U.S. police departments, officers were given thank-you cards, family cards, friend cards, and other small tokens.
These cards were meant to be given to officers' relatives or friends. When they committed minor offenses, like speeding, they could present these cute little cards for a more lenient response.
Though Jack, as an FBI agent, didn't need these cards, he could still give them as gifts or even sell them through certain channels. In some places, these modern "indulgences" could fetch anywhere from $100 to $300.
"Short on manpower again?"
At the station, Jack ran into Lucy, whom he hadn't seen in a while. Because of her relationship with Tim, she had previously transferred to a different precinct. Seeing her here during work hours meant she was likely sent back to help.
"We hired two rookies. One nearly shot himself on his first day, and the other quit after a week, saying he needed to find inner peace." Tim smiled wryly.
"Take it slow; you'll find the right ones eventually." Jack didn't know what else to say, so he offered some casual encouragement.
It seemed that this world had yet to experience the "I Can't Breathe" incident. Although relations between the police and the public were always tense, it wasn't as extreme as Jack knew from his previous life. Police academy recruitment wasn't as difficult.
As they chatted, an urgent call code suddenly came through their radios. A patrol officer had been shot. Jack then heard the officer's number—it was the veteran rookie, John.
"What happened?"
"Not sure. The command center said John was shot on Fuller Street. The suspect has an automatic weapon."
As Tim spoke, he dashed outside. Lucy, who had been enjoying her dessert, quickly tossed aside her half-eaten cake and, without bothering to wipe her hands, followed him out.
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