#Don't ask me to specify because there's a small chance I'm getting them mixed up with someone else

[skelkankaos]

there's like a fairly popular tumblr user whose posts I see a lot and it always makes me laugh because I remember years ago we were mutuals and they would post like lame or stupid posts and I'd defend them like "guys don't get on their case they're 15 they don't know any better" because at the time they were in fact 15

[digital-corruption]

I... don't know why Phil has all of the ingredients to make pancakes. I guess I really wanted pancakes that day. So time for the Suspension of Disbelief- I mean...

Haunted by the Past Part 36

When Phil arrived the next day to find Jake and I had made a mess of his kitchen, he was not pleased. I'll admit our making pancakes together got a bit out of hand. Ok when I say it got out of hand, we sort of had a flour war. Phil lectured us like a couple of kids. What can I say? I was going stir crazy!

“This level of disrespect and chaos I expect from him,” Phil pointed at Jake. “But MC, you’re better than this! More mature than this! You’re not a brat!”

“I’m sorry, Phil, we got out of hand. We'll clean it up as soon as we're finished,” I promised. Jake was quiet. I turned and looked at him, “Won't we?”

“Sure,” Jake said unconvincingly.

Phil narrowed his eyes at Jake, “Take responsibility for your messes.” Phil then walked out of the kitchen.

Jake leaned in to me and whispered, “Is that what jealousy looks like?”

I turned and he snuck a kiss on my lips before I could respond. I pulled away and laughed, “You’re insatiable today. We’re never going to get these pancakes done.”

“Oh, is that what we’re doing?” Jake teased.

“It’s what we set out to do,” I smiled.

“I'm just here for you,” Jake smirked, kissing me again.

When I finally had a chance to pull away, I did so quickly before he had a moment to react. I took the pancake mix over to the stove and started heating up the frying pan. It didn’t take Jake long to come up behind me and wrap his arms around me. He tried his hardest to distract me by kissing my neck, but my willpower proved too great for him.

“Are you trying to make me burn them?” I laughed.

“Maybe,” he mumbled in my ear. “Is it working?”

“Nope, they’re golden brown,” I gestured to the small stack already finished. “I’m afraid I win this round.”

“There’s always next time,” Jake grumbled. He nibbled on my ear lobe.

“I’m pretty sure I can beat you at the distraction game,” I laughed.

“You sure about that? I have been handicapped this week,” Jake complained.

“Jake!” I exclaimed.

“Having Phil around is annoying, isn’t it?” Jake joked. Phil was definitely not the handicap he was referring to.

“Are you upset because Phil called you an immature brat?” I smiled.

“I’m upset because he interrupted our fun,” Jake pouted.

“It is HIS kitchen,” I pointed out.

“He said we could use it, he didn’t specify how,” Jake teased.

“I’m pretty sure this was not on the list of acceptable uses,” I laughed.

“What? Making pancakes?” Jake asked before picking up a pancake and folding in half with one hand to take a bite out of it. His other hand was still around me.

“I don’t mean to concern you, but we have way too much batter,” I said scooping out batter for the next one.

“You kept adding more,” Jake pointed out.

“You kept messing with the mix!” I protested.

“Only because you made the funniest faces,” Jake whispered in my ear before kissing just below my ear.

“You’re bad,” I gave him a mock angry face.

“I know,” he smirked. “So we leave the extras for tomorrow.”

“It’s not our fridge!” I argued.

“How many pancakes are you making?” Jake asked. “You could feed an army! You shouldn’t use all of Phil’s ingredients! That’s disrespectful.”

“Oh my God, you step away right now or you're going to get slapped,” I tried being annoyed, but I ended up half-laughing.

Jake stepped back. I looked over my shoulder and saw him grinning while eating the pancake. I rolled my eyes at him.

“Are you still not finished?” Phil stood at doorway, unimpressed.

“Sorry, we made too much batter,” I looked away. “Maybe you can start offering pancakes to your customers?”

Phil walked over and grabbed a pancake, “You don’t need to use all of the batter. You could always throw it out.”

I could’ve sworn I saw a battle of glares in the corner of my eye while I was flipping a pancake. When I looked at the two men, Phil was eating the pancake with a smirk, which Jake wasn’t pleased about.

“Wow, MC, you make great pancakes,” Phil complimented while grabbing a second one.

“Thanks, Phil,” I smiled.

“Too bad your talent is wasted on him,” Phil commented while walking off. “I’d be singing you praises everyday.”

I didn’t need to look at Jake to know how he felt about that.

When I finally finished the last pancake, I turned and saw Jake leaning against the counter behind me glaring at Phil through the doorway.

“Finally finished,” I smiled, bringing his attention back to me. “Now unlike you two heathens, I’m going to eat pancakes how they are meant to be eaten.” I took two from the top, then grabbed a knife and a fork.

“I'll have another two,” Jake smiled.

--

With an entire stack of pancakes now stored in the fridge for tomorrow, we cleaned the kitchen, removing all evidence of our flour war. Well I did most of the cleaning. Jake helped at the beginning, but for some reason he stopped after a bit. Then I saw him having another glare war with Phil while trying to block me from Phil's view. Ok, I admit I had to lean over the deep bench to wipe the wall. That might’ve been considered too much of a view for Jake to let Phil see. Meanwhile Phil was pissed that Jake wasn’t helping anymore. I rolled my eyes at the boys. I had better separate these two soon.

“Ok, all clean,” I smiled while walking up beside Jake, squeezing my hand through to hook his folded arm.

Phil took a puff of his cigarette, “I’d like my kitchen back.”

“Yes, of course, we’re going,” I gave Jake a nudge and we went past Phil down the stairs. Jake let me go down first

Once we were back in the basement Jake rolled the door closed. He came up to me and whispered, “You’ll want to change your pants.”

“Why? Did I get flour on them?” I looked around.

“You have two flour handprints here,” he grinned while placing his hands on my butt.

“Oh my God! When did you do that?” I blushed.

Jake laughed, “You don’t even remember! You must be that comfortable with my touch now.” He squeezed my butt with both hands.

I tried to think back to the flour fight. It started playful because my hand slipped while mixing and I got flour on Jake’s hood. I laughed because it turned his black hood white. Then he dipped his finger into the flour and put some on my nose. Before we knew it we were chucking flour at each other until Jake had enough and grabbed me, pulling me in for one of his deep kisses. Yup, that’s when his hands travelled to my butt and squeezed hard. He was right, it didn’t faze me. His touch had become as familiar as my own.

“Well, we kind of need to wash everything anyway. Unless you’re happy being known as the white hood,” I teased.

“This is the real reason why I travel with a spare,” Jake took his hood off, pulling his shirt up a bit with it. That’s when I saw the wound, poorly bandaged on his side.

“Jake!” I exclaimed.

“What?” he looked at me concerned.

I walked up and lifted his shirt, “What is this?”

“Oh, it’s just a graze,” he shrugged.

“Just a graze? From a bullet? Why didn’t you tell me!” I pushed. “Have you been keeping it clean?”

“We're in a place full of alcohol, so yes. It doesn’t even hurt really,” he spoke nonchalantly. “It wasn’t something I wanted to worry you with.”

“Are you sure it doesn’t need stitches?” I gently examined the wound.

“It’s closed so it’s fine,” Jake insisted.

“We both had our near-death experiences,” I sighed. “Let’s not get shot at again, ok?”

Jake pressed his forehead against mine, “You know I want to promise you that more than anything.” He kissed my nose, “Hmm, next time we should use sugar, not flour.”

I laughed, “Sugar doesn’t stick as well as flour.”

“Powdered sugar does,” Jake smirked. “Or we could just use chocolate sauce...”

“I feel like that'd be a one-sided battle,” I squinted at him.

“I'd help clean you up,” Jake grinned.

“I think you got the order of your words wrong,” I frowned.

“No, I didn’t,” he gave me a devilish smile.

My phone beeped, breaking us out of Jake’s mental fantasy. Jake looked at my phone with me. It was Cleo, she had found a flat for rent at the edge of town and sent photos. “What do you think?” I asked Jake.

“Mmmh, I’ll look up the street view. I'm not too worried about the interior so it is up to you,” Jake pulled away to go to his laptop.

The apartment looked quaint actually. The sort of place that a couple would start their lives together in. A tear suddenly dropped from my eye. I closed my eyes to keep anymore from escaping. It would be nice to live like a normal couple.

“I can’t see anything that would be a problem,” Jake said from the sofa. He suddenly jumped up and came back over to me. “What’s wrong?”

I opened my eyes and looked at his face full of concern, “I just had a momentary flash of having a normal life together.”

Jake pulled me into a tight hug, “That’s the goal. Though I don’t know if I'd ever call it normal.”

I laughed, “Well at least one of us is normal.”

“No, you’re not,” Jake teased. “If I’m not normal, then what does that say for you, my partner?”

“Partner?” I pulled away and raised an eyebrow.

“Girlfriend sounds too casual and you'd probably not like me calling you my betrothed,” Jake said nonchalantly.

“Hang on, when did that become a thing? I don’t remember agreeing to that,” I blushed.

“As I said, you wouldn’t like me calling you that,” he smirked. “I don’t recall you protesting the idea of marriage. So as far as I’m concerned, you've already said yes.”

“But I haven’t,” I frowned. “You need to ask properly. No skipping steps. And you have to do it right.”

He smiled, “I will, when the time comes.”

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Summary: Javi hasn't called...again, Isa tries to distract herself making a new friend, but she doesn't know that her intentions are far from innocent and are tied to Javi crossing paths again with someone from his past.

Warning: cursing, mention of violence, threats, anxiety, kidnapping. Very hateful characters from the show 👀

A/N: I'M SO SORRY THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN POSTED ALMOST A MONTH AGO. I will try to finish this before this month ends. I think I could wrap this in one chapter more and an epilogue probably.

Just a small warning. This is a work of fiction and the intention is merely to develop a little bit more of a character I adore, Javi Peña. There's mention of the drug cartel, the violence they inflected in Latinoamérica (and as a Latina it hurts me very deeply, believe me) and the political involvement of different governments and agencies but this is not a political statement or trying to do other thing than entertain.

Chapter VII: Smart Choices

Isabel had never been a very popular girl, always the shy one in high school and she made a very small group of friends in college. But as everything in her life, there was a before and after since her life changed and she had Elvira.

She could not go to the club with her friends, their conversations about their new graduate’s struggles hurt her since she had to drop out, their heartbreaks and adventures had nothing to do with her life surrounded by diapers, feeding bottles and sleepless nights and so one day the phone stopped ringing, their friendship was limited to birthday parties and Christmas postcards while she became a mum and a wife. And thus making her world a very small universe with her child at the center and Javi and her turning around her.

So when that lady at the supermarket, Judy, called her she didn’t think anything weird out of it. Instead she was happy, excited to have another struggling mum that needed some comforting from somebody that understands her as much as she did.

“I’m sorry I took the liberty to ask for your phone number, I have a friend that goes to your mum’s salon and I ask her for it” she had said the first time she called.

Judy is a funny and very quick and intelligent woman. When they got their first coffee together, Isa barely asks any question, Judy fills the conversations so Isabel never has the chance to ask when she is meeting her kid or who gave her her phone number since she knows every client of her mother’s salon by heart and nobody mentioned her ever. But Judy keeps the conversation flowing, sharing her tragic story about leaving Colombia out of a very tough situation with a guy and creating a new life for her and her kid in the USA.

“It must have been so tough” Isa pounders

“Colombia back then was a bloodbath, you had to navigate the streets in survival mode, always looking behind your back and praying to come back home safe” Judy explains

“My husband worked in Colombia for a few years”

“Oh really? When?”

“80’s early 90’s"

“Well, he must have known. So sad! it is a very beautiful country...”Judy’s gaze is fixed far away as if she’s remembering something

“I guess it’s difficult to talk about it, my husband never shares much”

“Mm” she hums, she opens a golden lighter and gets the flame close to the cigarette on her red lips “What did he do there?”

“He worked at the Embassy” she’s not lying but she prefers not to specify, and now that’s past, the details are not really important

“Oh! and that’s what he’s doing in Mexico now?” she asks exhaling a white cloud of smoke making a perfect o with her lips

“Not exactly”

“He must be careful; I heard things are following the same path we suffered back in Colombia”

“Yes...he’s...smart, I’m sure he will be fine” Isa answers more to convince herself than her new friend

“I saw in the news the other day how a few civilians died during a clash between two fronting cartels and then the police. Very, very horrible images" she smacks her lips

"I haven't watched the news…" the knot in Isa's stomach grows tighter, Javi haven't called back even if he promised he would

"They kill anyone that is on their way, civilians, gringos too, DEA agents…" the Colombian woman casually brings the coffee cup to her lips when Isa frowns at her

"What did you say?" She asks

"They kill civilians?" Judy smiles uncomfortably the corner of her lips stretching up

"No, the last part"

"Gringos...DEA agents" she repeats

"Why did you say that?" The knot gets tighter restringing her throat and her question is just a whisper

"I… assume Javier must be…"

"I haven't told you what he does"

Judy gasps and bats her long black lashes a few times before changing her face to a complete cold expression, her glossy lips now a tight red line

"Look, Isabel, I think you are a very smart woman…" she starts

"I'm leaving"

Isabel pushes her chair back to go but the other woman's hand holds her to the table, her perfect manicure claws making her stay

"Sit, don't do anything stupid" Judy spats, the brief confrontation has alerted the waiters and they look at them intently until Judy gives them a very warm apologetic smile

"Who are you? What do you want?" Isabel tries to hold herself but her instincts is crying for her tu run, to get her baby back and look for Javier

But Javi could be anywhere

"You know your husband and I met, many years ago" she continues smoking "we worked closely in the hunt of Escobar" she smirks "I admit I was surprised to find him married and with a kid. He used to be involved with a very different type of woman"

"What do you want from Javi? If you hurt him I swear…" Isa mutters

"You must have been really special. A magical pussy" she laughs "or are you that dumb and naive that he lied to you and believed it" she crosses her arms over her chest, looking with a smug face from the white cloud of smoke "do you know what he did in Colombia? Do you know what he's capable of?"

"Where is he? If you touch him I swear to God I kill you" Isa tries to contain the tears, to seem strong but fails which makes Judy smile wider

"Oh! So you are an idiot little girl. Better keep up, cielo, if you want your husband alive"

México

A constant, something that keeps on proving itself to be right: shit does follow him. He tries the breathing techniques that the doctor showed him but the bag on his head stinks like rotten meat and the heat inside the van is unbearable. He finds a little solace feeling Steve's tigh pressed against his. Both of them rocking back and forth with each bump on the road

"Connie is going to kill me" his friend says

" If they don't kill us first"

"Callense cabrones" one shouts and Javi hears the muttering insult Steve pronounces before receiving one hit himself

He feels the vomit running up his throat, the smell, the heat and the fear have mixed themselves on his stomach and he can no longer calm himself down. He’s about to die, he knows it. About time, my friend, I elude death for so long in Colombia, so many close calls and now I’m about to die in some unknown part of Mexico because of a fucking middle age crisis I couldn’t handle.

He tries so hard to close his lips and swallow, breath, Peña, breath. The only cold thing in this van is the thin silver chain and medallion he wears around his neck.

This would be a marvellous moment to do some magic, old man Javi says to himself and that old saint around his neck. What did Isa call the old man engraved in it? Saint Jude. Okay, Jude, show yourself, please. This is actually a lost cause, it’s your field of expertise, c’mon

“Andando” the sicario pushes him out of the van before he can even process they have stopped the vehicle. The man grabs him by the arm harshly and guides him forward, the sun pierces the black bag over his head but he can’t only perceive the light and the sound of the gravel under his boots.

Suddenly the light changes to a white light and he feels the temperature lowering: a house with air conditioner and there’s a soft murmur of water but otherwise the house is silent. Javi memorizes those tiny details, it’s the only thing that could eventually help him if they’re held hostage and not killed right away.

The sicario pushes him and for a few milliseconds Javier thinks he’s about to fall hard to the ground but ends up on a chair. Then they pull both his arms to the back without any care and handcuffs him there.

Javi jumps from his seat when he hears the loud thump of the door closing, still in the dark and without any sign of company, he calls:

“Steve…”

Nothing

“Your friend is in the other room”

He could recognize that fucking voice anywhere, is engravated in his brain, in that part of his head that is capable of the worst, that tiny espace where he keeps every hateful and the worst people he has met, Bill Stechner being the number one on that list.

“I was so happy thinking you were dead and crawling back to hell” Javi sighs before he’s hit by the clarity in the room. He blinks fast until his eyes are adjusted to it again. It’s a nice room, wide and scattered by a few pieces of furniture covered by white sheets, the dust in the air makes evident it has been closed for a long time.

“So was I thinking you were rotting old in your father’s little ranch but here we are”

His beard is greyer and the already receding hairline is back a few inches, but he looks exactly the same, tha smug stupid face is looking at him from above. That smirk of “I’m always five steps ahead from you” the same he had when he made him leave the Embassy before catching Escobar and the same he had when he tried to take down Cali. But now he’s here in Mexico, what the fuck is he doing here?

“And, do tell, please, why the fuck do are path cross again?” Javier spats

“Oh! I didn’t want to cross paths with you. I must admit I found it funny when I saw who was managing the account for our textile export, but you, being the noisy stupid man that you are “ Stechner approaches him, his smirk freezes in a tight line “had to call your friends. And you see, you’re mending on my business again”

“So you switched from the CIA to the Narcos?”

“Javier, javier…” he sighs “You are always focusing in the wrong things and not in the bigger picture”

“The bigger picture being…” Javier rolls his eyes at him

“You wouldn’t understand, I tried a few times in Colombia and you ended up fucking it all up” he shakes his head

“So what do you want from me now?”

“Well now that you are here fucking everything up again I’d prefer if the repercussions go to the right direction”

“Which is it not yours, I guess, or whomever you’re working for”

“Yeah” he laughs and points at him “you’re smart when you want”

“And wouldn’t it be better to kill us right away?”

“Oh, you see, my associetes want to do it” Stechner nods “The really don’t give a fuck. But I told them that you could be of service”

“You’re really delusional if you think…”

Stechner interrupts him “And if you weren’t willing to cooperate we could always resort to the good old ways” the man walks to a nearby table, over the white sheet there’s a manila folder. Bill opens it slowly, that stupid smirk back at again on his face, relishing on the desperation and fear in Javi’s eyes.

Please, not Isa, please not my child

“Your wife made a new friend, it’s a small world after all, isn’t it?” Stechner shows him a picture, he recognises the cafe, Isa is seated talking to another woman he hasn’t seen in years.

“Judy is very nice when she wants” he takes out another picture, this time Isa is on the backyard playing with Elvi “You have a very beautiful family”

“If you touch them, motherfucker” Javi tries to get out of the chair, he doesn’t even care if the metal from the cuff cuts his wrists. He just want to do what he has wanted to do since he started working in Colombia and crossed paths with the CIA

“They won’t, it is entirely upon you that this is just a simple anecdote. I promised I’ll try to control them...if you do what you have to do” Stechner shrugs and throws the pictures to the floor where they rest in front of Javi’s feet

“What do you want?” he murmurs, his gaze is fixed on those images trying to see something, when were they taken? how does he know if they already hurt them?

Please, please he begs and his vision is starting to blurry

“Well, my associates will appreciate it if the DEA will center its efforts on our common enemy. You see it right? it’s the same story all over again; the enemy of my enemy is my friend…”

“I’m not DEA anymore”

“Are you? I mean you’re here with your dear Steve in an ongoing investigation that mainly relies on your testimony so…”

Stechner roams around Javier’s chair “It’s not like you haven’t done it before, Javi, think about it as if you are involving yourself with the lesser evil, there will be a time to capture my associates, but not now”

“Just go back home and when the time comes you can assure the DEA that those terrible horrible people that are getting that poison in our beautiful country are involved with our common enemy. What is the difference between one Cartel and the other? It just a matter of time they both get caught” he continues

“Why are you involved in this?”

“We’ve done this many times, Peña, let it go. It’s better this way or do you want to end up like Kiki? or better yet, your beautiful wife or your kid?” Bill points to the pictures of the Peña’s family “think about it”

And he thinks about it, the hate and the fear burning in his chest. So many years protecting himself in covers of solitude, brief encounters to relieve the stress and alcohol, protecting his heart from this fear and pain of getting his family killed for his job.

You did this to them, you looked for it. Now what?

Isa (Laredo)

She drives fast, fast as she has never driven before. She has always been a very responsible person and even more when she became a mother. Elvira is seated on the back, her little hands holding the seat hard and she has called her a few times, her voice shaky and scared.

“Mami, where are we going?”

“To Grandpa’s, honey”

“You’re too fast”

“I know, but we need to get there now”

The screeching sound of the tires stopping abruptly on the road has alerted Chucho who now waits with the porch lights on when they get out of the car.

“Mija, what’s wrong?” he screams

“I think Javi is in the danger”