#federal government agency recruitment

[reasonsforhope]

"Seven federal agencies are partnering to implement President Biden’s American Climate Corps, announcing this week they would work together to recruit 20,000 young Americans and fulfill the administration's vision for the new program. 

The goals spelled out in the memorandum of understanding include comprehensively tackling climate change, creating partnerships throughout various levels of government and the private sector, building a diverse corps and serving all American communities.

The agencies—which included the departments of Commerce, Interior, Agriculture, Labor and Energy, as well the Environmental Protection Agency and AmeriCorps—also vowed to ensure a “range of compensation and benefits” that open the positions up to a wider array of individuals and to create pathways to “high-quality employment.”  

Leaders from each of the seven agencies will form an executive committee for the Climate Corps, which Biden established in September, that will coordinate efforts with an accompanying working group. They will create the standards for ACC programs, set compensation guidelines and minimum terms of service, develop recruitment strategies, launch a centralized website and establish performance goals and objectives. The ACC groups will, beginning in January, hold listening sessions with potential applicants, labor unions, state and local governments, educational institutions and other stakeholders. 

The working group will also review all federal statutes and hiring authorities to remove any barriers to onboarding for the corps and standardize the practices across all participating agencies. Benefits for corps members will include housing, transportation, health care, child care, educational credit, scholarships and student loan forgiveness, stipends and non-financial services.

As part of the goal of the ACC, agencies will develop the corps so they can transition to “high-quality, family-sustaining careers with mobility potential” in the federal or other sectors. AmeriCorps CEO Michael Smith said the initiative would prepare young people for “good-paying union jobs.” 

Within three weeks of rolling out the ACC, EPA said more than 40,000 people—mostly in the 18-35 age range—expressed interest in joining the corps. The administration set an ambitious goal for getting the program underway, aiming to establish the corps’ first cohort in the summer of 2024. 

The corps members will work in roles related to ecosystem restoration and conservation, reforestation, waterway protection, recycling, energy conservation, clean energy deployment, disaster preparedness and recovery, fire resilience, resilient recreation infrastructure, research and outreach. The administration will look to ensure 40% of the climate-related investments flow to disadvantaged communities as part of its Justice40 initiative.  

EPA Administrator Michael Regan said the MOU would allow the ACC to “work across the federal family” to push public projects focused on environmental justice and clean energy. 

“The Climate Corps represents a significant step forward in engaging and nurturing young leaders who are passionate about climate action, furthering our journey towards a sustainable and equitable future,” Regan said. 

The ACC’s executive committee will hold its first meeting within the next 30 days. It will draw support from a new climate hub within AmeriCorps, as well as any staffing the agency heads designate."

-via Government Executive, December 20, 2023

-

This news comes with your regularly scheduled reminder that WE GOT THE AMERICAN CLIMATE CORPS ESTABLISHED LAST YEAR and basically no one know about/remembers it!!! Also if you want more info about the Climate Corps, inc. how to join, you can sign up to get updates here.

[harmonyd]

Federal Government Recruitment 2022/2023 Application Form Portal

Federal Government Recruitment 2022/2023 Application Form Portal

Several Federal Ministries are recruiting presently and you should not hesitate to apply. There are several vacancies in the Federal Government as at the time of writing this article. Are you ready to apply? See Federal Government recruitment and jobs presently below.   Federal Government Recruitment 2022/2023 has commenced. This web page covers vital areas such as Federal Government jobs 2022,…

[feralnumberfive]

Who are The Kennedy Six?

I went back and screenshot the book Viktor was reading at the beginning of 3x02 and found something really, really, really, interesting you guys need to see

Here's the text version (Note: I will not be using Viktor's deadname and pronouns) and also man there are a few continuity and capitalization errors in this so I'm going to correct them:

The Kennedy Six is a group of Communists said to have orchestrated the assassination of John F. Kennedy, 35th President of The United States, on November 22nd, 1963.

Hargreeves, Viktor: A Soviet spy and founding member of The Kennedy Six, a group of Communist said to have orchestrated the assignation (Note: that is an error and is supposed to be "assassination") of John F. Kennedy, 35th President of The United States, on November 22nd, 1963. Though no date of birth is known, education and medical records place Viktor Hargreeves in Saint Petersburg, Russia, as early as 1947. Official reports released by the CIA, FBI, and U.S. Department of Defense provide evidence of Mr. Hargreeves' involvement in the establishment of Soviet Satellite States, during which time he is said to have [con]-tact with American Double Agent and-[cut off]- The Kennedy Six, Luther-[cut off]- [con?]-tent of their familial- (last word is mostly cut off ->) [mn/ed]

First part of Diego's is cut off: -Communist-[cut off]-the Cuban Government-[cut off]-[founding?]-member of The Kennedy Six, a group of Communist said to have orchestrated the assassination of John F. Kennedy, 35th President of The United States, on November 22nd, 1963. Once thought to be a [sleeper?] agent for the Cuban government who was smuggled into the country as a baby and [trained?] to become radicalized against the U.S. democracy from an early age, his true origin remains unknown due to a lack of official records of his birth or origin. The FBI can only officially place him in the United States as-

early as 1963. According to official reports from the CIA, he is believed to have been in communication and a disgraced former high-ranking intelligence officer for the Cuban government. It is rumored that he lost an eye in Cuba in a cigar attack as punishment for compromising an intelligence operation. His association with The Kennedy Six is believed to be on behalf of the Cuban government and their interest in removing Kennedy from office by whatever means necessary. While the FBI and other federal law enforcement agencies have been unable to prove this connection, unofficial reports place him in Cuba shortly before his arrival in Dallas and eventual rendezvous with his co-conspirators. His whereabouts to this day are unknown, though he is widely believed to be hiding in Cuba.

Hargreeves, Allison: As an American born civil agitator recruited by radical terror groups to infiltrate the American Civil Rights Movement in an attempt to disrupt and discredit the country's Federal Government. A hairdresser by trade, Allison Hargreeves sought ot use her position in local politics to lure John F. Kennedy to Texas, setting up the 35th President for assassination on November 22nd, 1963. Though any direct involvement with The Kennedy Six remains [the rest is unintelligible]

Number Five: Known only by his KGB Codename, Number Five is assumed to be the youngest member of The Kennedy Six, a group of Communist said to have orchestrated the assassination of John F. Kennedy, 35th President of The United States, on November 22nd, 1963. Though existing records remain seal (supposed to be "sealed") under the US Espionage Act, Number Five is widely known to have been handpicked by First Secretary of The USSR, Nikita Khrushcev, to recruit American citizens in the effort to collect sensitive political and military information as relating to The United States policy of Communist Containment. A Federal Grand Jury is issued an indictment for Number Five's arrest in December 1963. The indictment remains open.

Hargreeves, Klaus: A prominent religious leader of an influential cult movement and believed to be a member of The Kennedy Six, a group of Communist which is said to have orchestrated the assassination of John F. Kennedy, 35th President of The United States, on November 22nd, 1963. Initially believed to be a recruitment camp and training facility for potential religious movement-[cut off]-federal authorities-[cut off]-the latter was eve-[cut off]-was levied with-[cut off]-charges of n-[cut off]-[unintelligible]-cy fo [the rest is unintelligible except a few words at the end]-or how he first-[unintelligible]-The Kennedy Six, and his [whereabouts are?] unknown to this day.

Hargreeves, Luther: An American -[unintelligible] - boxer with connection -[unintelligible]-mafia crime families, and a [member of?] The Kennedy Six, a group of Communist which is said to have orchestrated the assassination of John F. Kennedy, 35th President of The United States, on November 22nd, 1963. According to reports from the -[unintelligible]- U.S. Department of Defense, [Mr.?] Hargreeves was an agent and known -[unintelligible]- Jack Ruby, and his involvement in The Kennedy Six is believed to be on behalf-[next paragraph is mostly cutoff]- A coordination of mutual interests shared between Soviets and the American mafia. Authorities remain in pursuit of him this day, though he was rumored to have perished in a robbery near his Argentinian hideout sometime in the mid 1980's.

They can't be The Hargreeves from this (the current at the time Sparrow 2019 timeline) timeline because they weren't born, this was in the 60s, and why would they have ended up in the 60s anyways? They obviously aren't our Hargreeves from the 60s either because of all the information in the text and the pictures of Five in a military uniform along with Luther and Klaus's mugshots. Unless this is the FBI lying to try to cover up and tie loose ends and create false identities because they failed to truly discover our Hargreeves identities back in the 60s? Have the Hargreeves been changed in the history books?

So, who the hell are these Hargreeves?

it's-it's just the FBI making them up....

[sheisraging]

If you're considering not voting or casting a pointless 3rd party vote in the upcoming US elections*, I'd urge you to read about Project 2025, which is the Republican transition plan for if they win the 2024 election (link is for the wiki page, not the actual website).

A short summary:

Project 2025, also known as the Presidential Transition Project, is a collection of policy proposals to fundamentally reshape the U.S. federal government in the event of a Republican victory in the 2024 U.S. presidential election. Established in 2022, the project aims to recruit tens of thousands of conservatives to the District of Columbia to replace existing federal civil servants—whom Republicans characterize as part of the "deep state"—and to further the objectives of the next Republican president. It adopts a maximalist version of the unitary executive theory, a widely disputed interpretation of Article II of the Constitution of the United States, which asserts that the president has absolute power over the executive branch upon inauguration.

Among the many horrifying and notable points:

Abolishing the Department of Education, whose programs would be either transferred to other government agencies, or terminated. Basic research would only be funded if it suits conservative principles.

Promotes the ideal that the government should "maintain a biblically based, social-science-reinforced definition of marriage and family."

Proposed recognition of only heterosexual men and women, the removal of protection against discrimination on the basis of sexual or gender identity, and the elimination of provisions pertaining to diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) from federal legislation.

Individuals who have participated in DEI programs or any initiatives involving critical race theory might be fired.

Explicitly reject abortion as health care

Revive provisions of the Comstock Act of the 1870s that banned mail delivery of any "instrument, substance, drug, medicine, or thing" that could be used for an abortion.

Restrict access to contraception.

Infuse the government with elements of Christianity, and its contributors believe that "freedom is defined by God, not man."

Criminalizing pornography

Combat "affirmative discrimination" or "anti-white racism," citing the Civil Rights Act of 1964.

Deploy the military for domestic law enforcement and to direct the DOJ to pursue Donald Trump's adversaries by invoking the Insurrection Act of 1807.

Recommend the arrest, detention, and deportation of undocumented immigrants across the country.

Promotes capital punishment and the speedy "finality" of such sentences.

Reform the Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS) so that the nuclear household structure is emphasized.

Give state governments the authority impose stricter work requirements for beneficiaries of Medicaid

Mandate that federal healthcare providers should deny gender-affirming care to transgender people

Eliminate insurance coverage of the morning-after-pill Ella (required by the Affordable Care Act of 2010).

Remove Medicare's ability to negotiate drug prices.

These are just a few things and I'm sure lots of people will be like lol this will never happen but lots of people said this about overturning Roe, as well.

*FWIW - I think it is absolutely valid to be angry, discouraged, and disappointed in our current administration.

Be mad at Biden! (though I would encourage looking into some of the actually positive things his administration has achieved).

But also consider what's at stake for a huge population of this country if we wind up with a GOP win.

[lokiinmediasideblog]

FISA 702 HAS PASSED THE HOUSED. WE MUST STOP IT!

Fax your legislators! TELL THEM YOU WON'T VOTE FOR THEM IF THEY VOTE YES ON FISA (Fy-zah) 702!

You can also fax your legislators for FREE at:

From Edward Snowden's Twitter:

If you were mad about your House rep voting to let the government spy on you without a warrant ("FISA 702" - fy-za seven-oh-two), we may have one last shot. CALL YOUR REP @ (202) 224-3121 and say "𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘃𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝟳𝟬𝟮, 𝗜 𝘃𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗿𝗶𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂."

From the article link:

House lawmakers voted on Friday to reauthorize section 702 of the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act, or Fisa, including a key measure that allows for warrantless surveillance of Americans. The controversial law allows for far-reaching monitoring of foreign communications, but has also led to the collection of US citizens’ messages and phone calls.

Lawmakers voted 273–147 to approve the law, which the Biden administration has for years backed as an important counterterrorism tool. An amendment that would have required authorities seek a warrant failed, in a tied 212-212 vote across party lines.

Donald Trump opposed the reauthorization of the bill, posting to his Truth Social platform on Wednesday: “KILL FISA, IT WAS ILLEGALLY USED AGAINST ME, AND MANY OTHERS. THEY SPIED ON MY CAMPAIGN!!!”

The law, which gives the government expansive powers to view emails, calls and texts, has long been divisive and resulted in allegations from civil liberties groups that it violates privacy rights. House Republicans were split in the lead-up to vote over whether to reauthorize section 702, the most contentious aspect of the bill, with Mike Johnson, the House speaker, struggling to unify them around a revised version of the pre-existing law.

Republicans shot down a procedural vote on Wednesday that would have allowed Johnson to put the bill to a floor vote, in a further blow to the speaker’s ability to find compromise within his party. Following the defeat, the bill was changed from a five-year extension to a two-year extension of section 702 – an effort to appease far-right Republicans who believe Trump will be president by the time it expires.

Section 702 allows for government agencies such as the National Security Administration to collect data and monitor the communications of foreign citizens outside of US territory without the need for a warrant, with authorities touting it as a key tool in targeting cybercrime, international drug trafficking and terrorist plots. Since the collection of foreign data can also gather communications between people abroad and those in the US, however, the result of section 702 is that federal law enforcement can also monitor American citizens’ communications.

Section 702 has faced opposition before, but it became especially fraught in the past year after court documents revealed that the FBI had improperly used it almost 300,000 times – targeting racial justice protesters, January 6 suspects and others. That overreach emboldened resistance to the law, especially among far-right Republicans who view intelligence services like the FBI as their opponent.

Trump’s all-caps post further weakened Johnson’s position. Trump’s online remarks appeared to refer to an FBI investigation into a former campaign adviser of his, which was unrelated to section 702. Other far-right Republicans such as Matt Gaetz similarly vowed to derail the legislation, putting its passage in peril.

Meanwhile, the Ohio congressman Mike Turner, Republican chair of the House Intelligence Committee, told lawmakers on Friday that failing to reauthorize the bill would be a gift to China’s government spying programs, as well as Hamas and Hezbollah.

“We will be blind as they try to recruit people for terrorist attacks in the United States,” Turner said on Friday on the House floor.

The California Democratic representative and former speaker Nancy Pelosi also gave a statement in support of passing section 702 with its warrantless surveillance abilities intact, urging lawmakers to vote against an amendment that would weaken its reach.

“I don’t have the time right now, but if members want to know I’ll tell you how we could have been saved from 9/11 if we didn’t have to have the additional warrants,” Pelosi said.

Debate over Section 702 pitted Republicans who alleged that the law was a tool for spying on American citizens against others in the GOP who sided with intelligence officials and deemed it a necessary measure to stop foreign terrorist groups. One proposed amendment called for requiring authorities to secure a warrant before using section 702 to view US citizens’ communications, an idea that intelligence officials oppose as limiting their ability to act quickly. Another sticking point in the debate was whether law enforcement should be prohibited from buying information on American citizens from data broker firms, which amass and sell personal data on tens of millions of people, including phone numbers and email addresses.

Section 702 dates back to the George W Bush administration, which secretly ran warrantless wiretapping and surveillance programs in the aftermath of the 9/11 terror attacks. In 2008, Congress passed section 702 as part of the Fisa Amendments Act and put foreign surveillance under more formal government oversight. Lawmakers have renewed the law twice since, including in 2018 when they rejected an amendment that would have required authorities to get warrants for US citizens’ data.

Last year Merrick Garland, the attorney general, and Avril Haines, director of national intelligence, sent a letter to congressional leaders telling them to reauthorize section 702. They claimed that intelligence gained from it resulted in numerous plots against the US being foiled, and that it was partly responsible for facilitating the drone strike that killed the al-Qaida leader, Ayman al-Zawahiri, in 2022.

[mimi-0007]

****†** EVERYONE SHOULD READ THIS BEFORE YOU VOTE. ****Project 2025, also known as the Presidential Transition Project, is a collection of policy proposals to thoroughly reshape the U.S. federal government in the event of a Republican victory in the 2024 U.S. presidential election. Established in 2022, the project aims to recruit tens of thousands of conservatives to the District of Columbia to replace existing federal civil servants—whom Republicans characterize as part of the "deep state"—and to further the objectives of the next Republican president. It adopts a maximalist version of the unitary executive theory—which asserts that the president has absolute power over the executive branch upon inauguration. Unitary executive theory is a disputed interpretation of Article II of the Constitution of the United States. Project 2025 envisions widespread changes across the entire government, particularly with regard to economic and social policies and the role of the federal government and its agencies. The plan proposes slashing funding for the Department of Justice (DOJ), dismantling the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) and the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), sharply reducing environmental and climate change regulations to favor of fossil fuel production, eliminating the Department of Commerce, and ending the independence of various federal agencies such as the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) and the Federal Trade Commission (FTC). The blueprint seeks to institute tax cuts, though its writers disagree on the wisdom of protectionism. .

Project 2025 recommends abolishing the Department of Education, whose programs would be either transferred to other government agencies, or terminated. Scientific research would receive federal funding only if it suits conservative principles. The Project urges the government to explicitly reject abortion as health care and to restrict access to contraception. The Heritage Foundation, an American conservative think tank that leads the development of Project 2025, asserted in April 2024 that "the radical Left hates families" and "wants to eliminate the family and replace it with the state" while driving the country to emulate totalitarian nations, such as North Korea. The Project seeks to infuse the government with elements of Christianity, stating in its Mandate that "freedom is defined by God, not man." Project 2025 proposes criminalizing pornography, removing protections against discrimination based on sexual or gender identity, and terminating diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) programs, as well as affirmative action. The Project advises the future president to immediately deploy the military for domestic law enforcement and to direct the DOJ to pursue Donald Trump's adversaries by invoking the Insurrection Act of 1807. It recommends the arrest, detention, and deportation of undocumented immigrants across the country. It promotes capital punishment and the speedy "finality" of such sentences. Project director Paul Dans, a former Trump administration official, explained that Project 2025 is "systematically preparing to march into office and bring a new army, aligned, trained, and essentially weaponized conservatives ready to do battle against the deep state." Dans admitted that it was "counterintuitive" to recruit so many people to join the government in order to shrink it, but pointed out the need for a future President to "regain control" of the federal government. Although the project does not promote a specific presidential candidate, many contributors have close ties to Donald Trump and his presidential campaign. The Heritage Foundation has developed Project 2025 in collaboration with over 100 partners including Turning Point USA, led by its executive director Charlie Kirk; the Conservative Partnership Institute including former Trump Chief of Staff Mark Meadows as senior partner; the Center for Renewing America, led by former Trump Office of Management and Budget Director Russell Vought; and America First Legal, led by former Trump Senior Advisor Stephen Miller. The Project is detailed in Mandate for Leadership: The Conservative Promise, a version of which Heritage has written as transition plans for each prospective Republican president since 1980. Critics of Project 2025 have described it as an authoritarian Christian nationalist movement and a path for the United States to become an autocracy. Several experts in law have indicated that it would undermine the rule of law and the separation of powers. Some conservatives and Republicans also criticized the plan, for example in the contexts of centralizing power, climate change, and foreign trade.

[furious-rogue-stuff]

Heat Chapter 41: Enchantment

Back, back, back again~! Sorry for the long lag with this one. It’s a supersized chapter, at least, so I really hope it’s worth the wait 😊

Pairing: Javier Peña x OFC | Javi x Querida

Disclaimer: Written in 2nd person narrative, you can safely assume our heroine and love/lust interest is a Latina, written by a Latina. Here's my philosophy on my writing, for further context.

Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞

Word Count: 26,000+

Summary: After your explosive confrontation with Javi concluded in a passionate tempest, you both take the time to regroup. Are your feelings for each other enough to overcome the turmoil of the past?

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sex, including explicit depictions of unprotected sex. Mentions of diet and food habits, exercise routines, angst, past trauma, resentments, frustration and emotional stress. Allusions to toxic behavior, negative coping mechanisms, recurring relationship tropes, women's health, personal turmoil and regrets. Soft!Javi, Longing!Javi, and Sensitive!OFC. **OFC name reveal** In the vein of Narcos being a bilingual show, and Javier Peña being fluent, I felt it was apropos to include Spanglish and Spanish throughout.

Heat Masterlist

Previous chapter - Chapter 40: Hopes 

Chapter 41: Enchantment

In the early 1990s, Puerto Rico was besieged with an influx of crime fueled by the drug trade, violence, and trafficking moving through the U.S. territory. There were a whole host of factors that played into the archipelago's woes, and the more one factor was pulled like a thread to its source, the clearer it became that it wasn't even close to being similar to the situation in Colombia.

Really, it could be boiled down to the limbo Puerto Rico and its people floated in for over many decades, if not from as far back as Spain's defeat to the United States during the Spanish-American War. After all, the nebulous status of being a modern-day colony in the late 20th century exacerbated many ills common in other places: poverty, lack of social mobility, and a classist system where the few controlled all the wealth and economic access of the many. But when you're beholden to a federal overlord who was content to keep you at an arm's length, but still shackled from having true self-governance and agency? These ills are only amplified, and become terminal symptoms for a population that are both U.S. citizens, but not truly Americans.

Javi had read up on the history of Puerto Rico. Of course, he knew the basics, and had learned more during his on-and-off again relationship with you, but to read about Operation Bootstrap, and just how much that had changed the smallest of the Greater Antilles? To absorb how a strategic holding in the Caribbean – which had passed imperialist hands for centuries – could be known as La Isla del Encanto, while being ravaged by predatory industries and corrupt fat cats, had been acquired by the U.S. and exploited for most of the 20th century? Well, it all had done little to motivate his zealous ambitions. At least at first.

However, the inevitable happened: his aspiration to leave a place better than he'd found it kept heeding for him to invest more care and attention to what lay ahead. So, after spending his first week as the Special Agent in Charge, Javier found himself voraciously delving into everything before concluding there was a criminal element that controlled the flow of things – a syndicate not unlike that of El Cartel de Cali.

But, where it did differ substantially from the Cali cartel, was in the way the drug trade operated on the big island.

The Puerto Rican Mafia was organized just like it sounds: it was made up of different ranks within La Familia – aka The Family.

Just like the mob, crime families ran different territories, with one central figurehead. However, unlike the mob, members were recruited from all walks of life, and could work their way up through the ranks, but would conduct business operations like a gang. All in order to create a multi-structured network that would make it difficult to dismantle the cartel-level operations.

It was a real puzzle – one Javi was growing more and more intrigued by.

Steve was also getting invested in figuring out strategies for taking down the syndicate, but they both recognized that wouldn't put an end to the drug trafficking in the region.

"…put a bullet in Escobar's head tomorrow? There's just another scumbag that'll fill the vacuum the next day. Is it really worth going off the deep end for?"

And like a cold comfort to his scrupulous intentions, your realistic take slaps him out of his brooding thoughts.

He'd arrived back from doing flyovers of Vieques and Culebra while field analysts pointed out possible drop zones used by drug traffickers to hide product meant for ferrying down to the Lesser Antilles under the cover of night.

Once he'd deboarded from the small plane after it'd taxied into the hangar, Javier strode over to the waiting SUV and gotten in quickly to avoid the rising humidity of the early afternoon.

"Buen día, Agent Peña!" Kike greets in his characteristically jovial way before beginning to drive out towards the security exit.

Grunting in greeting, Javi adjusts the air vents to blow directly on him after discarding is khaki linen blazer to the back seat as he scrubs the heel of his hand across his temple to wipe the perspiration there away. "How is it this fucking hot in winter?" he grumbles more to himself than to the plainclothes-disguised rookie in the driver's seat, who seems unbothered by the heat, even in the stuffy-looking collared stripe shirt and jeans he currently dons.

Snorting, Kike drawls, "It's the humidity. Not usually this high, but things should cool down once the vaguadas roll in early next week. It's going to ruin plenty of Valentine's plans!"

Javier hums as he tugs on the collar of his short-sleeved cotton button down shirt. The mention of Valentine's Day had him ruminating while Kike drove him to the Federal building.

Back in Colombia, Valentine's Day was similar in sentiment as in the states, but was celebrated on a completely different day and time of year. To his chagrin, he's realizing now that during the times you'd dated, every Día de Amor y Amistad fell around either when he'd been on a stakeout, or on assignment in Medellín, so he'd never gotten to do anything special with you.

Sure, this Valentine's fell on a day in the middle of the work week this year, but he was wondering now if he could make up for all those missed schlocky hearts, roses and chocolate-festooned days by taking you out like he'd been yearning to since he got to the island.

The holiday was as big here as it was back home, promoted on the television, plastered across banners on the highway, and he couldn't go into a single place without the garish red and pink hearts or cupids adorning the walls.

He'd wanted to respect your wishes – to let you have the time to think about everything, though, so he'd thrown himself into work and forced himself to pine only when he was alone at the end of the day, staring up at the ceiling fan while he laid in bed.

Today, though, he had business at the Federal building, so he figured he could chance maybe going by to see you? At the very least, it would be good to know where your office was, for completely professional reasons, right?

When he arrived at the building, it was just before lunch time, so there was a decent exodus of people going off campus for the break. As he begrudgingly shrugged on the linen blazer, he told Kike to go on his way and that he'd call if he needed anything, assuring the intrepid officer that he didn't have to hang around waiting for him in the car.

"—You can call my beeper, cell phone, whatever, any time," the man assures.

"I know, Kike. I appreciate it. Now go get lunch and relax," Javi quips wryly as he gestures a casual goodbye before shutting the door and loping off.

Pretty soon, he was entering the DEA offices for a meeting with his Assistant Special Agent in Charge, who was overseeing some surveillance ops he wanted to brief Javi on. Before he'd even finished walking through the bullpen, though, Agent Lopez had practically materialized next to Javi to walk alongside him towards the conference room.

"Boss, glad I caught you—"

"Christ, Nic. Can it wait until I get through this briefing?" Javier grumbles as he fiddles with his now-rumpled shirt collar before smoothening out the flat of his khaki blazer's lapels.

"Well, that's the thing. It's about one of the ops you're gonna hear about in there," Lopez confides to him.

Halting, Javi eyes him before gesturing for him to follow him to a secluded corner before muttering, "All right, shoot."

"I don't think the intel is legit," Lopez tells him before emphasizing in a lower voice, "I think they know we're listening to them."

"…Ok, and why do you think so?" Javi murmurs as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Just a hunch," Lopez obfuscates.

"You gotta give me more than that," Javi tersely sneers, shaking his head when the other man just glowers at him. "Look, I gave you and Duff tons of latitude back in Cali, and it bit us in the ass. I can't tell this kid his ops are compromised because you have a hunch—"

"Alright, fine, but…Duffy doesn't even know about this. Long story, but I have an informant. Something they said gave me the impression that the target knows his place is being surveilled. So before we take what was gathered from their as actionable intel, I want to make sure I can look into it more," Nic insists, hands on his hips as he leans in to mutter, "And no offense, but your ASAC is thickheaded, and didn't want to hear anything I had to say."

Javier grunts evenly. "Yeah, well…that's an issue for another day."

And really, it was. He couldn't help the fact that his ASAC wasn't really his first choice, but as he'd been learning since he'd arrived in Puerto Rico, being juiced in and having spheres of influence were the way most navigated into appointments and work positions. Almost every major official he'd met or read up on was the cousin, in-law, or 'buen amigo' of someone high up in the government, both locally and federally, so there were plenty of incompetent, arrogant, or willfully clueless people in jobs they had no business being in. And the nepotism? It was so pervasive, that it even put the bit of it he'd experienced in Colombia to shame. There were municipalities around the island almost entirely staffed with family members of the mayor. Let alone all the government officials who had kids who worked in some congressperson's office, or who were related distantly to a miembro del senado.

The whole thing had him learning a new word from Kike.

Chanchú – slang derived from the word chanchullo, which defined an act that was morally illicit, due to intentional fraud or scheming that would earn a person or persons influence, money, or protection. Most chanchús would inevitably become illegal, either due to bribery or corruption, and sadly, Puerto Rico was rife with it.

So, after assuring Lopez he wouldn't sign off on anything until there was more information, Javi went into the conference room and let Ryan Segarra brief him.

Sure, he recognized that it wasn't really fair to call him a 'kid', since they were only 5 or 6 years apart, but Javi couldn't help his opinion of him being just that when the man gave him a self-satisfied look and waited for some form of praise once he concluded his briefing.

Of which, he got none. Instead, Javi remained in his cross-armed posture, but leaned back in the chair, and cocked a skeptical brow at him before checking his watch as he drawled, "So, anything else?"

Seeming put off-kilter, Segarra remarked, "Uh, yeah – the signoff to move forward with raiding the caserío—"

"Denied," Javier flatly responds before pushing his chair back and standing. "That's not enough to sanction a raid. Also, it doesn't sound like you've coordinated anything with the field ops guys—"

"Well, they're not looking to move on anything until there's more info netted," Segarra protests, clearly displeased that his boss doesn't seem impressed.

"Then, if that's the case, why the hell are you pushing for it?" Javier remarks with a flippant, albeit pointed edge to his baritone, one that takes the blue-eyed man with the stubble-covered jaw aback. The look he gives him says everything Javier needs to know, so he goes to exit the conference room as he dismisses, "You're not going to medal for being an overreaching jackboot who storms a public housing unit for some low-level dealers, Segarra. Come back once field ops gets you something that is really actionable."

With that, Javi exits to stride at a clipped pace out of his department and towards the elevator to head up to Digital Information Operations.

Luckily, the entire thing only took part of the lunch hour, so he figured you'd just be coming back from the break to your office. He didn't expect to come off the elevator and traverse the main corridor towards your department, and see Devon gatekeeping the entry while sat at the receptionist's desk, typing on the computer.

"They got you working phones during everyone else's break?" Javi quips after entering from the glass door and surprising the man behind the much-too-smug desk.

"Oh, no! I was just doing a software install for the receptionist while she ran down to grab something at the cafeteria," Devon explains as he maneuvers his broad frame from behind the desk before asking, "Did you have an appointment? I, uh, don't see the log out, so—"

"No, no appointment. I just came up to see where the department was," Javi quickly retorts, and at Devon giving him a musing nod while eyeing him dubiously, he ends up relenting, "And yeah, I was hoping the director was around so I could say hello."

"Oh, she's off-campus for lunch," Devon answers guilelessly as he adds, "She usually brings something from home, but today is her cheat day."

"Ah, is that right?" Javi chuckles, smirking at the idea of you partaking in the same kind of fast-food Steve was raving about indulging in whenever he could sneak it. "Huh, ok then…"

Seeming to sense he was slightly let down at not being able to see you, Devon checked his watch before retrieving something from the communal cubby next to the reception desk.

"Well, if you're up for skipping the cafeteria, this place is nearby and is a favorite around the office," he's remarking as he hands Javi a takeout menu. Looking at it, he hums flatly before he catches Devon giving him a look that was practically a nudge before he remarked, "Definitely check it out."

Smirking, he nodded before folding the pamphlet-style takeout menu and slipping it into his blazer's pocket as he backpedals to the entry. With a friendly wave over his shoulder, Javi calls out coolly, "Thanks for the tip. Have a nice rest of your afternoon!"

You hadn't expected for it to be so busy in the restaurant today, but since you'd become a regular, they'd sat you at a table tucked close to the bar so you could wait out the rush while you busied yourself with your planner. When the dine-in and takeout traffic slowed, you perused the menu before the server came by and took your order.

After your order is placed, you go back to writing reminders for yourself in your planner while you think about how much you'd enjoyed spending time with your father the Sunday before.

He'd avoided any topic that would raise your ire or stoke your combativeness, and you happily filled him in on work and the surface chit-chat about your friends while you cooked. And when all the dishes were ready, you'd both sat on the terraza and enjoyed the meal, managing a pleasant dinner before Camille arrived from the day out with her relatives. The evening had been so nice, that you'd even made an effort by not rushing off like you normally would.

You're just thinking about how much she'd irritated you by bringing up an upcoming anniversary she had no right mentioning, as far as you were concerned, when you dimly hear the bell above the door ring just before the chef behind the counter calls out, "Irasshaimase," in greeting.

Looking up from having just finished storing your planner into your purse to give a cursory glance at the entryway, you end up staring, disarmed, at Javier as he is led towards the tables. He looks so insufferably handsome in his ecru-colored linen suit and plain cotton button-down, sans necktie, with the top three buttons of the collar undone already. The tease of his neck and the flash of his collarbones peeking from the shirt just above the top neckline of a cotton undershirt has titillated excitement bubbling up in you. So much so, that you feel your heart throb and the apples of your cheeks burn with a flustered blush.

When he sees you, he smiles, eyes crinkling with affection as he catalogues how chic you look with your hair up in a sleek ponytail, wearing a light blue polyester blouse with quarter sleeves, sans the black blazer that matches your fitted trouser pant. You watch as he gestures to the host, as if indicating he was going to see if he could join you.

Javier didn't expect for the man to hum before approaching you first, however, in order to ask you in Japanese, "Do you want to share your table?"

Nodding, you respond, "Hai, daijoubu desu."

Javi's so impressed by the exchange that he dimly smiles when the man gestures for him to take a seat.

Once he's sat at the cozy table with you, he greets, "Buenas tardes, directora—"

Leaning forward to give him a suspicious look, you whisper, "I know there's no way you were just out wandering around this time – not in the middle of a work day, anyway – to just so happen to come in here by coincidence."

Smirking, he fiddles with the napkin and the sleeved chopsticks resting on top of it before toying with the little rectangular ramakin idly as he gives you a casual shrug, drawling, "Well, Devon recommended this place today when I stopped in to your office. Figured I'd give it a try."

"Oh, he did, did he?" you ruefully chime as you cross your arms and lean back in your chair, amused.

He nods before giving you a flirty glance, and you just shake your head at him, trying your damndest not to smile as brilliantly as you want to.

"Here is the menu, sir," the server says once he's returned with a glass of water for him to match your own.

Shaking his head, he holds up his hand reassuringly as he orders, "I'll just have what she's having."

"Ah, very good," the server bows and heads off to give the chef the order, while you squint at Javier.

"Um, have you ever had Japanese food?" you ask as he sips the cool iced water.

With a grunt, he shakes his head before remarking, "No, but if this is where you have your cheat day, I trust you to have picked something good to eat."

Snickering, you purse your plush lips sardonically before deadpanning, "Javier—"

"I didn't know you could speak Japanese," he rumbles, eyes molten and smug when you finally crack a smile. "You'll have to teach me some."

"I only know enough for proper restaurant conversation, chavón," you quip as you adjust in your seat so you can cross your leg under the table. "So? How's it been settling into things down here?"

"Not bad. Could be better, though," he remarks with an easygoing sigh before leaning back into his chair to eye you confidently when you hum and tilt your head, truly interested in hearing more. So, he crosses his arms and muses with rugged charm, "I haven't been able to concentrate much. Can't stop thinking about you, or the other night."

You press your lips together to suppress the delighted smirk threatening to crest across your features, feeling tingly from the glee his flirtatious line has sizzling up in your chest. "You mean from how worked up you got on the sofa?" is your deriding lilt, smiling cherubically at him when he frowns.

"Tan mala," he grumbles, but his chiding smirk is infectious. "You're never gonna let me live that down—"

"Why would I? It was the best compliment, knowing I have such an effect on you," is your teasing purr, winking spiritedly at him when he quells a bashful groan into his hand, feigning being gruff about it. "Hopefully you found a dry cleaner who can be discreet—"

"Do you know how hard I had to keep from squirming when I dropped my suits off, and the laundress silently judged me as she handed me the ticket?" he cuts in haughtily, and you can't help giggling at his harried pout.

"I have zero sympathy!" you sass, wrinkling your nose at him when he scoffs in faux shock. "My dress is a classic, so I ended up getting lectured about needing to be more careful with it by the doña who does my dry cleaning—"

"Get the fuck out," Javi chuckles, brown eyes lighting up with glee when you comically nudge your foot against his calf while you scoff. "Well, I can't be held responsible. That dress was a killer," he croons as he reaches over and affectionately squeezes your hand before murmuring, "But if you wear it again, I'll be more careful."

Snickering, you pinch the pressure point in the web of his hand before sneering impishly, "Beyako."

Just as he was about to say something else flirty in retort, the server arrives with your meals. "Here you are!" the man jovially announces as he places the large bamboo platter shaped like a bridge housing all the unfamiliar bounty of food at the center of the table along with the woven canoe-shaped tray filled with two orders of what looked like rounded fritters smothered in savory sauces.

Javi looked at all the food before gaping over at you. "What…is all of this?" is his awed, drawn-out query as he continues to balk at it all while you're pleasantly putting the napkin in your lap before you slip the wooden chopsticks from the paper sleeve in order to expertly snap them apart.

"Well, Mr. Suave, this is a double order of sushi, nigiri, and takoyaki," you chime as you point out each with your chopsticks before indicating row by row, "This is salmon nigiri. These are eel avocado rolls, these are spider rolls, and these yummy little rounded fritters are takoyaki. They have a piece of octopus in the center."

Giving you a perturbed look, he picks up his chopsticks and uses them to point at the center of the platter before he croaks, "Those are made of spiders?!"

You laugh out so brightly, that he instantly relaxes and enjoys how your eyes crest with mirth as your hand demurely cups over your mouth while you try to regain your composure.

"No, you dork! That's just the name. They're made with battered soft-shell crab, cucumber and avocado. But these? They are made with Japanese eel cooked in umami sauce. I promise, it's really tasty!" you assure as you align the ramekin next to your side plate and pour soy sauce into it from the ceramic bottle sitting at the center edge of the table before you pick up a piece of the aforementioned eel roll, dip it into the soy sauce, then pop it merrily in your mouth.

"Ok…if you say so," Javi tentatively mutters as he removes the chopsticks from the sleeve and tries to part them. When you see him struggling to, you reach over and snag them so you can snap them apart cleanly for him before handing them back. Smirking, he nips at his bottom lip lightly before he begins to drawl in a purr, "Thanks, mi patrona—"

"Quit flirting and start eating, chulito," you snipe playfully before picking up one of the octopus fritter balls and offering it to him.

He lets you feed him the fritter, and immediately grunts from how piping hot it is in the center. You giggle and eat your own piece, savoring it while Javi chews like a suspicious child, waiting for the bad flavor to hit.

When it doesn't, he hums neutrally before grabbing a sushi piece. "So, most of this is raw?" he queries as he struggles to use the chopsticks to pinch the piece securely.

"Actually, only the salmon nigiri is. Everything else is cooked," you tell him as you fondly watch him intrepidly try to maneuver the chopsticks, but he ends up fumbling the piece onto its side. "Here, this is the technique. You tuck them this way so you make more of a pincer motion when you grab for the piece. See?"

Following along, he manages to get the hang of it enough to move the piece from the platter to his plate. "This is a lot of work, guapita," he jokes as he gives you a puppy-eyed look. "How is this even a 'cheat day' worthy meal?! It's all fish—"

"Well, it's a lot of rice! I've tried cutting carbs out of my diet, and while the fish is mostly lean protein, the batter and the rice are what makes this a cheat-day-worthy feast," you explain, and finally take pity on him struggling to get the piece up, so you grab it easily with your chopsticks and offer to feed it to him, all while cheekily smiling as you chime, "Guess it figures you'd come around every time I indulge in something I shouldn't be."

Javi eats the piece, chewing it and savoring the odd texture, but scowls more from your remark than how exotic the flavor is to his taste buds. Once he's swallowed, he dabs the napkin over his lips before murmuring, "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Well, when it comes to keeping to a disciplined routine? It kind of is a bad thing," you retort aloofly before sipping your water.

Genuinely frowning now, Javi grumpily abandons the chopsticks onto his side plate and just grabs a piece of sushi with his forefinger and thumb before popping it into his mouth.

You sputter a silly giggle and snicker a haughty sound at him.

"That's impolite!"

"I'm hungry and these sticks are a pain!"

"I'll tell them to bring you a fork, then—"

"Never mind that. I can manage—"

"Ay, Javier. Let me help you—"

"You don't need to keep feeding me pieces like I'm an overgrown baby in a high chair—"

You stifle a laugh into the back of your hand and just simper, "Awww, well then quit acting like a bebito, you silly gruñón!"

He scoffs and pugnaciously picks up another piece of sushi with his fingers in order to dip it into your soy sauce before he pops it goadingly into his mouth.

"Oh, you're lucky I'm more concerned about wasting all this food than I am with your terrible table manners, tough guy," is your faux huff as you stubbornly smack his hand away when he tries to drag your soy sauce dish closer to his side of the table. "Uh-uh! You have your own. No dipping in mine."

Chewing his current bite puckishly while he pours some soy sauce into his own ramekin, Javi eyes you in a way that makes warmth fizzle effervescently in your tummy.

Gaze appraising you thoughtfully now, Javi licks his lips before asking, "Besides our little row last week…how have things been? Being back down here, and in the new job, I mean. Things are good?"

Nibbling on a fritter, you take the opportunity to think about how to answer that, unsure how much you want to say with things still feeling so tenuous—

"I never meant to come here and derail things," Javi says when you get pensive instead of answering, and after you glance back up at him, he decides to confide, "You seem…content, so, if me just being here is going to affect that? I want to know, querida."

You feel a pang tug at your heart at his words, so you let down your guard, and look him in his tense brown eyes as you assure, "Things are great right now, Javi. After I resigned from the embassy, I wasn't sure what would happen. But then I got a call with the job offer here, and the rest sort of fell into place. My father and I, we reconciled, and we're both good. It's not perfect, but I don't think it'll ever be…"

He listens as you end up telling him about all the highlights he'd missed since your time apart. From the wedding in New York, to the arrival of Ellis and Anita's first-born, as well as the wonderful time during the holidays you got to spend with your family when they visited from Colombia.

It makes him feel good to know that you had so many great people around you here, who loved and cared about you. But he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, where you'd say, 'And you being here is something I can't fit into my life. Not after everything.'

Instead, he's surprised when you admit, "—While I was livid when Ellis told me, something about it also felt…different and new."

Idly peeling the clustered ginger slivers stacked on the platter apart with your chopsticks, you allow your stream of consciousness to continue unselfconsciously with, "I've thought about it more, and really, things are totally different from what happened the last time, in Colombia. Everything was so fraught all the time, and keeping it all safe and secret just put so much pressure on us," pausing, you glance up at him with a meek smile before musing, "Here and now? Well, it's just not the case, since…everyone knows. Albeit the distorted, gossipy rendition that's been passed around for months and distilled into a simpler narrative. But still…it didn't feel as stifling, finding out the way I did. And understanding things in hindsight now helped."

Javi can't suppress the charming quirk of his brows and upward tug of his full lips, before drawling, "So, you're saying there's a chance?"

It has the intended outcome, causing you to crack a smile and snicker, shaking your head sardonically before you jab, "That's all you picked up from that whole thing?!"

"No, but it was the most important," he jibes and winks at you.

Humming imperiously, you take a long drink of water before sneering in jest, "It's almost like you want me to kick your ass, with how infuriating you behave when you should instead be humbly groveling—"

"I've literally begged you to give me another chance every time we've talked," he laconically mutters and pops a piece of nigiri into his mouth now, chewing pointedly while you taunt him with the pleased pert of your lips. Swallowing quickly in order to grumble tersely at your goading look, he mutters haughtily, "I groveled, and even got slapped silly for it—"

"What time is it?" you coolly change the subject as you nibble on the last piece of nigiri.

Grunting and narrowing his gaze grouchily, he looks at his watch.

"Whoops. Ten after lunch time," he responds before polishing off the remaining few pieces of sushi while you hum and unhurriedly finish the last takoyaki. "Did you walk here? I could call my guy to come pick us up—"

"No, that's ok. I strategically block off the half hour after lunch so I can catch up on messages or the like. I have some time," you retort before taking a piece of ginger and savoring it with a hum as you signal the server to bring the check.

"What's that?" Javi asks after seeing you eat the ginger from where it's sat on the now-empty sushi platter.

You're retrieving your purse from the back of your chair as you reply distractedly, "That's a palette cleanser. Some people put it directly on the sushi to heighten the flavor."

"Ah, ok," he remarks, reaching over to grab the little mound of bright green paste next to the slivers of ginger.

You look up from your open wallet just in time to see what he's doing. Gasping, you warn, "Javi, that's not—!"

Too late, Javier's popped the entire portion of wasabi into his mouth with his fingers before smearing it over the roof of his mouth with the flat of his tongue. Looking up at your wide-eyed grimace just as the burn of the condiment singes across his taste buds and makes him grunt in disgruntled surprised, he rushes to put his napkin to his nose when he feels the spice shoot up his sinuses.

Not wanting to spit out into his napkin and come off as even bigger of an oaf, he swallowed it thickly before grabbing his water to chug it down.

"Oh my god," you're wheezing in between simpering giggles as you quickly hand him the rest of your water and signal for the server to bring more. "I can't believe you just ate that whole thing!"

Chugging your water down and wordlessly grumbling at you, Javi feels his cheeks flush from the spice after it flooded his nasal passages and eyes, making them both water. "You said it was a palette cleanser!" he bemoans before greedily guzzling the water the server just filled into his glass.

"No, I said the ginger slivers were a palette cleanser!" you counter while forcing yourself not to dissolve into a fit of laughter.

Managing to take advantage of his distraction to hurriedly hand over your card to pay the check, you grab his hand before he rubs it across his face.

"Wait! You touched it with your fingers. Don't get it in your eyes," is your admonishing tut as you dip your napkin in your empty glass to sop up enough moisture to improvise a wet nap so you can clean his fingers with it.

"Me lleva la chingada," he grits out as you dutifully sit up from your seat to retrieve a handkerchief from your purse so you can dab the clean cloth at the corners of his eyes for him. "And it was all going so well," is his hoarse, wry grumble, which earns a flitting laugh to bubble free from you.

The server asks if everything is all right, and Javi nods while dopily flashing a thumbs up as you continue to tend to the tears running over from his eyes, and assure the man that he's ok.

A few minutes and a to-go cup of ice water in hand later, and you're both exiting the restaurant.

"—I'm so sorry, Javi. I should've called it out before," you're fretting as you take his forearm and lead him out to the sidewalk.

"Well, at the very least now, I know that if you ever want to kill me, it'll be by poisoning," he sarcastically jokes as he wipes the hankey over his eyes before accepting the offered cup of water from you.

"I'd actually say this should inspire you to be more careful with what you just shove in your mouth, jodón," is your snarky jibe as you affectionately brush the curls back from flopping across his forehead while he grunts and scowls mordantly at you. "And I would never poison you. Where's the fun in that?"

He scoffs amusedly at that before handing you the cup of water so he can pocket your hankey and feel for his cell phone. "I'll call to get us a ride—"

"It's not very far to the Federal campus," you find yourself volunteering, and at his agog expression, you suggest, "I know it's a bit muggy out, but if we stay on this side of the avenue, we'll be under the shade of the trees all the way down. And with traffic, we'd get there a lot sooner than he'd be able to get over here to pick us up."

Feeling something warm twinge behind his sternum at how you're in no rush to part ways, even after crashing and derailing your quiet lunch, Javi feels encouraged and accepts with a smile, shedding his blazer as he rumbles, "Alright, but I'm sweating like a hog—"

You take the blazer before he can fling it casually over his shoulder to instead fold, and tuck it to hang around your purse before nodding for him to follow your lead as you chime, "Come on before I change my mind, refunfuñón."

Smirking, Javi falls into step with you, and you both stroll down the sidewalk of the avenue's shady eastern side. As you go, he finishes the water in the cup and starts chewing on the ice while he banters, "You walk to the restaurant in this heat without a bother, but you couldn't handle that one heatwave in Bogotá?"

"I told you! That was more stifling heat and humidity at a higher elevation," you counter and playfully nudge your shoulder into the side of his arm. "At least here you get a breeze every once in a while. And there's always a rainstorm that'll cool things down a bit," is your easygoing musing, before you scathe wryly, "And anyway, you're literally wearing a half-unbuttoned short-sleeved shirt, so quit complaining."

It's the perfect excuse to give him a stern leer and silently drool over his toned arms and broad shoulders while he scoffs and slicks the hair back from his forehead.

"Yeah well, you're friolenta. I run hotter than you," he tuts matter-of-factly before crunching on another piece of melty ice. "It's so hot down here, I left all my jackets back home—"

"Even the leather one?" you query with a pout, which gets him to chuckle and nod. "Well, this is a nice suit, in any case," is your amiable chime as you adjust his draped blazer on your purse, before teasingly drawling, "…Nice to see you finally spruced your wardrobe up for the current decade—

"Criticona," he rumbles and nudges his shoulder into you, which makes you squeak and slap his bicep with a laugh, which makes him chuckle and bite his lip to stop from grinning. "But sure, yeah, I got a few new suits. Maybe I'll let you peruse them next time you come over?" is his flirted proposition before crunching on the last piece of ice and depositing the paper cup into a trash receptacle on the corner you've both arrived at and need to wait for the pedestrian light to switch green.

Giving Javi a coy glance, you sass, "See? You gripe about me teasing you over your clothes, but you always seek out my fashion expertise and crave my approval." When Javi shoots you a humorously defiant look, you razz, "I think you really bought the new suits because you've been working out and your old blazers are now too snug. Am I right?"

Javi's mouth bobs open to contradict you, but he realizes he can't, because that was partly true, so instead he squints cunningly at you before crooning, "Have you been checking me out, bravita?"

Expression lighting up with surprise at how quickly he turned the teasing around on you, the tickle of excitement that skitters into your core has you feeling overheated now, even with the nice breeze that billows through the lush canopies overhead. The cool air filters his cologne and the hint of his sweaty skin to you, and you watch as his dark brewed eyes flutter, unaware that the waft of your own perfume has him feeling warm and fuzzy.

The crosswalk light finally changes to green, so you hitch your purse strap high on your shoulder in order to tuck it and his blazer to your side as you lean close to him now.

"Well, it's been kind of hard not to notice," you silkily murmur whilst you trail your fingertips teasingly down his chest to skim all the way to where the shirt is tucked into his pants, emphasis on the operative word you purred as your touch brushes over his taut tummy.

The way Javi's breath hitches and his eyes get dark is exactly what you were looking to rile out of him, so you smile enchantingly before turning to trot down the crosswalk, shooting him a coquettish glance over your shoulder when he stays rooted in his spot.

"You coming, stud?"

Javier takes a cleansing breath and reins the impulse to run over and sweep you up in his arms so he can instead sprint over and take your hand bossily in order to thread it in the crook of his arm as he escorts you across the street to the next shady sidewalk.

"Atrevida," he growls into your ear, and you triumphantly hold your head high as he reluctantly lets your hand go once you've fallen back into your casually ambling step, only for you to surprise him by brushing the back of your palm against his before slipping your hand to take his much larger one, giving it a flirty squeeze.

He stares down at it before looking fawningly at you, smiling when you let him interlace his fingers with yours.

Not wanting to jinx a thing, Javi relishes just walking hand-in-hand the few minutes left in comfortable silence all the way back to the main gate of the Federal campus, content by the affectionate way you squeeze his hand from time to time as you both stroll together.

That is, until it's time to cross over to the western side of the avenue.

You hand him his blazer so he can retrieve his security pass while you both hustle across once traffic slows, and then dig through your purse for your own credentials while he follows you to the entry to get let through the gate.

He wants so badly to ask you out – hell, to kiss you right here and now as you're both loping up the walkway towards the building, but knows he shouldn't. Not so close to the offices, and definitely not when he can already feel glances from the few employees that are milling about as you both near the doors leading into the sprawling foyer and security reception desk.

You're so poised and unruffled, though, and he gets distracted by how you casually smile up at him that he doesn't even notice Kike as he walks by. The rookie is in the outer entry, flirting one of the workers sitting on a cement bench, and only pauses when he catches Javier's eye.

He's about to call out and wave, but notices he's not alone, so he gestures to the office worker that he'll talk to her more some other time so he can rush over, eager to pepper Javier with questions, when he slows at seeing you turn to Javier with a serene look relaxing your features as you gaze up into his soulful brown eyes.

"I enjoyed the impromptu lunch, chavón. So sorry again about the wasabi!" you tell him irreverently as you make a silly grimace.

"Ah, no harm done. I don't think I'll ever have allergies again, and I'm pretty sure I can smell colors now, so," he jibes with a shrug, and you snicker irreverently at him. "And anyway, you can just make it up to me—"

"Huh, it's always some quid pro quo with you, agente," you banter back before gesturing you have to go, as you muse, "Next meeting's in a few, so, gotta run. Have a good rest of your day."

Nodding, he shrugs on his blazer before digging your handkerchief from his pocket and calling out, "Oh, here, forgot to give this back—"

You smile and motion with your hand for him not to worry whilst waltzing towards the doors as you say convivially, "You keep it. With your spicy food track record, it might come in handy soon enough."

Snorting, Javi pockets the soft hankey as he watches you go. He feels wistful and glad, mind already thinking about when he can possibly see you next, when a catcall-like whistle sounds from his left as Kike approaches.

"Wow, que mami más dura," he whispers conspiratorially to Javi, who shakes his head humorously as he turns to lope towards where Kike left the car. "No disrespect! Just, wow…very beautiful. Way to go, boss—"

"Don't let her hear you calling her any of that, if you know what's good for you," Javi laconically deadpans as he gets in the car.

" ¡Chacho, claro que no!" Kike assures after he's gotten in the driver's seat, smirking in solidarity with Javi as he turns the car on and gives him a goofy look, as if to say, 'Game recognize game!'

The rest of your day goes by quick, thanks to your mind wandering every so often to how much you'd wanted to throw your arms around Javier's shoulders and kiss him silly.

Everything felt different. Sure, it was undeniable that you both had a knack for reliving the same back and forth – rehashing old patterns that made you wary of trusting again. But there was a big part of you now – one wiser to what you were tired of denying – that felt secure enough to be able to let your guard down around him again. To disregard resentments towards allowing him back into your life, and placate the worries you have about ending up right back in the same place you were, so many months ago: alone, heartbroken, and lost.

However, you wanted to ease into this. Well, whatever this was going to be, now that you both were in a new place together, surrounded by the knowing eyes of coworkers and other agency officials alike. Not to mention the surreptitious awareness of your father that seemed to permeate even the least-expected corners of your day-to-day life.

Oh god. Would Javi even want to deal with any of that?

Stowing the thought away, you make it down to the ground floor from the elevator now at the end of the workday, eager to get home and veg out in front of the TV on your lazy cheat day, when you notice a certain blond trekking to the exit across the way from you.

"Hey, Murphy!"

Steve freezes at hearing his name called so informally, and whirls around with a scowl on his features before comically blinking at you and getting tense when he sees you march over to him.

"Oh, hey!" Steve greets in that smooth rasp of his, smile lopsided as he idly fidgets his weight from one foot to the other. "How're things—?"

"Tell me something, Steven. Back when you first got here? And we ran into each other in the lobby and caught up? You knew Javier was coming down here the whole time, right?" you bossily inquire as you cross your arms and lean your weight onto one hip as you tap your foot.

Hedging, he stammers good-naturedly, "I mean, y-yeah, technically, but I couldn't mention it—"

"Hm, is that so?" you jeer, eyes narrowing on him and actually making him edgy with anticipation. "You're on my shitlist for that, dude. And, I expect you to make it up to me by arranging a double date so I can meet Connie and befriend her," is your suddenly wily proclamation as you smirk mischievously at him now, enjoying how his dumbfounded expression melts into wry shock. "Sound like a plan?"

Grinning, he amusedly nods and assures, "Damn straight, it does. I'll see to it, hun."

"Good," you chime before leaning up and pecking his cheek platonically before breezing by him to the exit. "Have a nice night, Steve."

"You too, Celina," he snorts as he watches you go, marveling at how good you had him sweating there for a minute.

Luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait long to fill his partner in on the whiplash-inducing encounter, thanks to Javi having agreed to come over for dinner that night.

He waited until a lull in the conversation not taken up by the kids pulling everyone's attention to them, to finally remark, "So, I had an interesting run-in today."

Javi looks up from the page of the coloring book he was currently helping Olivia fill in to see Steve was directing the comment to him.

"Oh?" he drawls before snickering when Olivia got impatient and took the green crayon from him in order to finish coloring in the tree.

Grunting intriguingly, Steve leans back in his chair to conspiratorially rasp to Connie as she feeds the baby a bottle, "Don't know what he did, but Javi's girl marched up to me and had me sweating when she confronted me about not having mentioned knowing that he was coming down here. Just when I thought she was gonna squash me like a bug, she said I needed to make it up to her by arranging a double date."

Smiling impishly, Connie looks over at Javi's stunned expression. "Great! It's long overdue. Just need to coordinate with the babysitter—"

"Wait – when did she say this?" Javi asks in a hushed tone and shifts in his seat to cup his cheek and lean his elbow onto the table, so not to distract the little girl sat next to him from her furious coloring.

"End of day when I was heading out," Steve retorts and crosses his arms casually before adding, "She also said I was on her s-h-i-t list, and that the double date is so she can befriend Connie."

Javier snorts and shakes his head as he tosses himself back into his chair. "Oh, great. That's all we need: the two of them getting in cahoots—"

"That's right. And what would be so wrong with that, hm?" Connie counters quippingly as she shifts the baby to her shoulder so she can burp her.

"Not a thing," Javi chuckles and shrugs before going to lean back over to resume watching Olivia color the once blank flower-filled park using bright colors from her crayon box.

Steve notices how lighter Javier's been since after the happy hour at the hotel. He'd figured something had occurred, but in true fashion, the man was mum about it. Every time he'd tried to coax it out of him, all he'd gotten was a musing, 'I'll tell you once there's something worth telling.'

"Would this be the first official date, then?" Steve fishes, as he busies himself with collecting the empty plates on his and Connie's side of the table.

Looking up with a frown, Javi hums, "…Damn, it would be—"

"That's a bad word, uncle Javi. You need to put a quarter in the swear jar!" Olivia suddenly pipes up and gives him a doe-eyed look that is more precocious thanks to the little smile on her lips. "Once it's filled up, we can get ice cream!"

Javi laughs, already going into his pocket for the change. "Well, here. Put it in the jar for me, would yah?" is his gentle chuckle as he hands her the quarter.

Merrily getting up to go do so, Olivia tots into the living room to plop the coin into the jar with the rest of the change.

After the table is cleared, Connie puts the baby down in her crib and helps Olivia get ready for bed while Javier and Steve remain at the kitchen table, pouring over case files for a bit.

Truthfully, though, Javi keeps getting distracted with thoughts of you. After a half hour of that, Steve notices and decides to suggest just picking it back up the following day when they're both scheduled to be at the office at the same time.

"Go home, you lovesick fool," he can't help haze as he walks Javi to the door a few minutes later. "And about that morning jog—"

"Nope. You're not backing out," Javi cuts in and claps him on the back before tutting, "I'll be at your door at 6, bud."

Huffing noisily, Steve relents and wishes him a good night.

You're not thinking a damn thing about working out the next morning, not with how nice and comfy you are, curled up on your couch with some mini chocolate chip cookies you're nibbling on as you watch a sitcom on cable while clad in a loose-fitting lounge-friendly top and short set.

The balcony slider is open to let in the nice cool breeze, and you're enjoying how it lulls over your skin with the help of the slow circulating ceiling fan above. So much so, that you have to shake yourself back to sharp awareness from staring tiredly at the television when your cell phone starts ringing on the side table next to you.

Setting the bag of cookies aside and shifting up to reach for it, you press the button to pick up the call before bringing it to your ear. "Hello?"

"I'm not interrupting anything important, am I, jefa?" is the honeyed baritone drawl on the other end, which instantly unearths a warm tingle to zing through you and a charmed smile to tug broadly across your face.

"No. Although, just like I said earlier, you have a knack for materializing in some way when I'm indulging," you remark in a playful lilt as you shift up on the sofa to pull your knees against your chest when he hums interestedly.

"Oh? What're you snacking on? No, wait – let me guess," Javi smoothly charms before offering, "Chocolate? Or maybe cookies?"

You chuckle, licking your bottom lip before chirping, "Both. Chocolate chip cookies."

"Yum," is his raspy hum. "Sounds like a successful cheat day, all things considered, hermosa."

Snickering, you lean back into the cushion as you muse, "I'll be paying for it tomorrow. You doing ok, post-wasabi disaster?"

"All good. Well, except for my gringo partner letting me know he had a mighty tough run in with a feisty boss lady today—"

"Ah, so that's what's inspired this call," you impishly snicker before following up curiously, "Did that seem like a fair request?"

"It did. Connie loved the idea, so we'll definitely do it," Javi retorts assuredly, then murmurs with baritone like honeyed gravel, "But, before then, I was hoping you'd be interested in going out, just you and me?"

You feel your heart summersault at the proposition, but hedge a bit before asking, "Oh? What would you like to do?"

Freshly showered and only in a pair of loose-fitting boxers, Javi lays more comfortably in order to stretch out on his bed, then pins the cell phone with his shoulder so it stays perched to his ear as he toys with the soft handkerchief before raising it to his nose to scent your delicate perfume from it.

Picturing you when you were smiling at him in front of the building earlier that day, Javi croons smoothly, "Well, I haven't really seen El Viejo San Juan yet. Maybe you can show me around, be my tour guide? You did say the murrallas in Cartagena didn't really compare to, what was it—?"

"El Morro," you finish, and by your tone, he can tell you're smiling. "I can't believe you remembered that—"

"Well, you left an intriguing impression, querida," he husks as he dotingly clutches the handkerchief in his palm and rests it against his chest. "Are you free after work tomorrow? I could come pick you up at your place, and we can do an early evening stroll," is his cool proposal, trying to keep the eagerness out of his tone.

There's a quiet couple of seconds on the other line before you sigh, and answer, "Yeah, I'm free. Your driver gonna tag along—?"

"Nope. Tomorrow I'm picking up the requisitioned car I got for personal use. The rookie's only gonna drive me during the week to meetings," he tells you as he rolls over to retrieve his little book from his nightstand before asking you for your address. Once you've given it to him, he suggests, "Pick you up around 6?"

"Sure. I'll meet you out front," you answer in a relaxed timbre, before adding, "Oh! And be sure to wear comfortable clothes, especially practical shoes."

"So no heels?" he jokes, and you scoff derisively. "I'll see you tomorrow, preciosa."

"Ok. Goodnight, chulito. Bye."

Javier lays flat on the bed and smiles up at the ceiling.

That effervescent, warm feeling fills his chest when he thinks about getting to see you again, and keeps fizzling up throughout the next day every time his mind wanders to the plan after work.

Luckily, he has Steve to keep towing him back from daydreaming.

The wryly smirking blond just tossed a paperclip at him from his side of the conference table, which pulled Javi back from his pining thoughts to squint questioningly at him.

"I said, the bust in St. Thomas was too big for it to all have come from speed boats, so I'm thinking there's gotta be some other transport that's moving large quantities of coke through that corridor. Any ideas?" Steve says in a musing drone, tapping his pen idly over the stack of files he's been reading.

With a shrug, Javi retorts, "Cali used to fly it in on cargo aircrafts. Before that, Medellín couriered it across the Caribbean in small planes, then ferried it up through Florida by speedboat. Might be a combination here? So maybe we check flight manifests? Most Cessnas flying out of the big island don't get inspected for cargo."

"Yeah, but still. That's a lot of flights back and forth. Definitely would draw attention," Steve grumbles as he looks over the total weigh-in for the seized bust. "And supposedly that area came up clean in a surveillance sweep just a week prior, so no way a bunch of planes and speedboats could bring in five tons like that in such a short window—"

Javi sits up and pulls one of the transport maps for large vessels that dock in ports off each island after stopping at one of the two major import and export depots on the big island of Puerto Rico. Staring at it, he grunts and traces his fingers to delineate a route to Steve as he thinks out loud, "Maybe they're not using either, and it's one of the container ships? Look, this shipping lane goes right by the area they found the stash. So, they empty a container here in Yabucoa, fill it up with the coke after and put it on a container ship. No customs checks, and they get it over in a day or so, if the seas aren't rough."

"Ok, but the waters are too shallow for them to go to any other makeshift port," Steve is looking at the bathymetric map before pointing to the specific sea floor depth for that corridor. "See? That means they're either unloading the container at the main port, or while they're still at sea somewhere?"

Crossing his arms and pondering, Javi stares at the maps, unsure of what would be the most likely possibility. "Shit…if the container makes it to the port, that means they have someone in customs helping get it out without being checked and transporting it on a truck out to this drop location. Or, the vessel makes an unscheduled stop somewhere mid-transit to unload the container off to another boat that then smuggles it the rest of the way," he pauses to look up at Steve with a scowl before muttering, "Either way, that's really fucking bad for us."

Nodding in reluctant agreement, Steve exhales as he scrubs his hand across his cheek. "Yep. Means we have a bigger corruption problem here than we thought," is his huff before checking his watch. "Is it bad you and I are still doing this shit ourselves when we have assistant special agents in charge who could be doing the heavy lifting?"

"Yeah, well, I like doing my own work. Plus, my guy is a pain in the ass," Javi laconically sneers as he reaches for his coffee mug and drinks while Steve chuckles at his expense.

"I'd trade yah, but Petersen is decent, so far, and he's out on St. John," Steve remarks, amused when Javier rolls his eyes and starts sifting through documents in his folder for something. "If you don't like Segarra, just have him reassigned."

"He's got an uncle that works in the governor's cabinet, so that's not really an option, unless he royally fucks up," Javi grumbles, before evenly quipping, "Wanna trade SAC roles?"

Snorting, Steve picks up his stuff and pockets his pen as he drawls, "So you'd want to take monthly trips out to the islands and be away from your girl?"

Glowering, Javi shakes his head as he deadpans, "Yeah, on second thought? Screw that."

Steve laughs as he heads to the door with a parting goodbye chuckled over his shoulder.

It's just then that Javi finds the document he'd been looking for, and reads from it as he collects the folder and his blazer, multitasking scanning the numbers of seizures in the last six months with hustling back to his office.

How the hell are they pulling this off? They'd have to pay off the dock manager, customs, an entire crew on the ship—hell, someone in the government, even. But that would be so brazen, even all things considered. Not to mention funneling the money around quickly and cleanly without setting off alarms with the banking institutions here, Javi is pondering as he goes. It doesn't seem sophisticated, but they really are operating like a mafia down here. And like any mafia, they've clearly found a way to clean their money, so maybe if we find that, the rest of this will start to make more sense.

His ruminating thoughts are interrupted by a knock on his office's door. "Come in."

"You got a sec, boss?" Lopez asks after poking his head in. Once Javi's nodded and waved him in, the agent saunters through and sits in one of the seats in front of the desk. "So, I know you shut down that raid the ASAC had been pushing for, but now Duffy just got word from his contact in the Guardia Nacional that they're coordinating a sting operation, off the books, with the local municipal police. It seems kind of suspicious that all of a sudden, the same raid is gonna happen with the locals," is his gruff charge.

"Fucking hell," Javi grouses as he rubs his hand over his mouth testily while he thinks. "Any chance they were tipped off by someone on our side?"

"I mean…this seems punitive," Lopez mutters, the accusation unspoken, but clear to Javi. Segarra is making a power play.

"Alright…I'll make a few calls," Javier huffs, already beyond aggravated. "What about your informant? Anything else there?"

"Yeah. They've basically said the caserío is just a decoy. They don't conduct real business there and the drugs that do move through there are for the smaller dealers who are trying to make a name for themselves in order to get into the larger crew," Lopez explains, adding, "If we raid the place, it'll just confirm their suspicions and undo any opportunity to really track the cartel's dealings with the street gangs."

Nodding, Javi thanks Lopez and tells him to keep his ear to the ground.

Once the man exits his office, Javier then calls the lead commander for the National Guard on the island, who then dials in the head of the municipal police the public housing unit in question resides in, and in not so many words, tells both men that they better not go through with the raid, or else he will tell the governor's office they acted against the DEA's protocols.

And as expected, the municipal captain griped, "We got the tip from your ASAC, so I thought this was an interagency partnership?"

Assuring the man that his ASAC did not have the authority to coordinate such a thing, and to please make sure they always reach out to him first if anything similar occurs, Javi got both their commitments and confirmations that the sting would not take place.

Furious, Javi got up from his desk and stormed out of his office.

The DEA department was busy with phone chatter and typing as he stalked through the space towards the ASAC's office on the opposite side of the wing, and many couldn't help notice how imposing he looked as he went, making it a point to avoid crossing his path. He knew his reputation from Colombia preceded him, and he didn't care, especially now as he barged into his assistant's office and slammed the door behind himself while the man balked at him from his desk.

"I-let me call you back," the other man rushed into the phone quickly before hanging it up and gaping at Javier. "Boss, what's up—?"

"I'm going to tell you this only once. You ever go over my fucking head or around my back again, I'll make sure you get busted down to rookie agent and shipped off to a real fucking hellhole your uncle won't be able to win you favor in," Javi thunders before snapping when Segarra begins to deny, "Don't even bother bullshitting me. I spoke to the locals, and they confirmed you tipped them off on that caserío point. They know now not to listen to anything coming from DEA unless it comes from my fucking mouth. I don't give a damn who you're related to. The next time you step out of line, you better have your shit packed already so you can go work for your uncle as a goddamned gopher. You got me?"

Segarra looked like he'd been steamrolled and doused in lemon juice after that, so all he could muster was a jerky nod and croaked, "Y-Yes, sir. Sorry, sir!"

Without a second look, Javi turns on his heels and storms out of the man's office, throwing the door open so roughly that it banged into the wall with a loud slam.

The office chatter muted around him as he traversed through the department back the way he came with another sharp slam of his door.

While the whispered murmurs began to hum between cubicles and filter over to the agent bullpen down the way, you were just wrapping up another assessment of the current network bandwidth post-onboarding.

Everything went fairly smoothly, except for the problem you knew you could no longer ignore: the nepotism factor.

There were staff members in the operations division overall that weren't exactly qualified to do the work required for the position they filled, but had been placed there nonetheless by well-meaning friends and families in high-up places who'd called in favors for their son or the like to be acomodado.

El acomodo was to be placed in a job or occupation. While typically that usually hinged on having the credentials or experience that would make for the proper fit in said job or occupation, in Puerto Rico, it was usually the opposite. Or at the bare minimum, someone's résumé was juiced up enough to make them passing on paper to fill the role, even at the detriment of more qualified candidates. Acomodando someone could even include placing a kid in an elite school or program that was competitive. It was often seen as a harmless grift, albeit unfair, but when it escalated into favoritism or favors – political, financial, or reputational – it often eroded public trust. However, it was a dirty not-so-secret, and every time a scandal broke, it would burn out until the next quid-pro-quo was revealed by the local news.

While you've worked very hard to get to where you are today, there is a part of you that feels guilty to have been privileged enough to get into good schools and had good words put in for you. It also doesn't help that you have no doubt that your father has used his influence to remove obstacles from your path. He would never admit it, though, but you felt it at times by the way people would greet you, or know to reference him to you in some way.

For the most part, you'd avoided that in Colombia. But back here? You were hard pressed to not run into someone who knows of your father, either by reputation or direct association. You could blame it on his unique surname, or the way he's successfully networked to make himself a person of reputation across all echelons.

Being the first and only Puerto Rican to become a Vice Admiral in the U.S. Navy didn't hurt either, sure.

Annoyed with yourself at having to start making the arrangements you'd been hoping to avoid regarding the personnel adjustments needed, you allow your mind to wander to your early evening plans with Javi.

You were excited to see him again, and looking forward to taking him around Old San Juan, but part of you was anxious about moving too fast. It only compounded when you recalled his words to you that night.

"I came here for you…I came here to be withyou, Celina…"

Your heart squeezed in your chest every time you thought about it, and while your feelings hadn't stopped burning for him, there was a weary part of you afraid of letting your love overtake you again. Like it had every other time before you and Javi found your way back to each other, only to be flung apart by some chaotic circumstance that hadn't been in your control. It didn't help that part of you questioned how serious he was. After all, he'd said he didn't care about the job – had practically implied he'd only taken the SAC position in order to come to Puerto Rico to get you back.

Even if that was the case, you didn't know how to feel about that. It was flattering, but scary, but exasperating, but overwhelming to think that he would be so flippant with his career all because his motives were focused elsewhere, let alone that you were seemingly the only reason he'd taken the job. That he intended to orbit you in the hopes your gravitation would draw you back to each other once again.

Your ambivalence wasn't helped by how unsure you were with yourself. There was something raw and yearning within you that wanted to leap back into his arms and profess your love eternal, but the skittish, protective force that kept your walls up couldn't drop its guard like that, no matter how much you believed Javier now that he hadn't intended for things to go as bad as they had. No, it was all too muddled by your own insecurities, leaving you questioning whether you were even worthy of his passion and devotion.

What if he realizes he's made a mistake? That he's just as miserable being back in the DEA and dealing with the shit here than he was before, and doesn't want to put up with all the hassle of being with you? Of the scrutiny and judgment of it being known by all that we're together? What if he expects so much more now from you, and you can't give him what he needs?

What if I don't deserve him?

If Javier knew how tangled up you were about the unspoken things remaining between you both, and how much it was weighing on your heart, he'd be going about things totally different with you right now.

Instead of rushing through astounding amounts of traffic to get to your apartment on time, he would've gone to get a ring, gotten down on one knee, and assuaged you of any doubts in your head that he didn't want anything else in the world but to be with you forever. But, quite the opposite was in his head.

Sure, he wanted to ask you to marry him. Hell, he was up for eloping and running away to wherever you wanted, but he kept that impulsive part of him in check by admonishingly berating himself.

You can't expect her to want to marry you just like that! Things are back to square one, and trust will need to be built back up before you can even consider proposing to her. Gonna have to take it slow – let her set the pace of things. See how far she's willing to allow things to get back to where they were before—

Honking cars sweep his internal monologue away, and he focuses on the bumper-to-bumper traffic becoming a standstill at the height of after-5pm rush hour. Checking his watch, he grumbles as he snatches up the folded map that's in close reach in order to skim alternate routes he could take, peering over the rim of his aviators down at the woven streets off of the highway.

He'd gone to his place after work to quickly shower, shave, and change into comfortable clothes, eager to get over to your condo with enough time to spare so he could park and go up to the door to escort you down. But now, with how he's inching over lanes to get to the next exit in order to back route it to your street, he's aggravated that he's going to be running so late.

Javi doesn't know that you'd had to contend with the same level of traffic, even after avoiding the highway and sticking to the city routes you knew, so you were currently running around your apartment rushing to get ready. Freshly showered, you shimmy into your outfit and spend way too long fussing with what to do with your hair before you look at the clock and swear under your breath – worried Javier is parked out front waiting for you and wondering why you're so late in coming down.

You've just pulled on your shoes after putting on some tinted lip balm when your cell phone starts ringing. Sprinting over to the nightstand to grab it, you answer it already apologizing, "I'm so sorry! Traffic was nuts so I'm way behind getting ready—"

"Oh, that's alright! I just pulled up to the curb. The roads are a nightmare, so no rush, querida," Javi assures in a smooth baritone.

"Ok, I'll be down in 5 minutes!" you insist before hanging up to finish fretting over your appearance in the mirror.

Frowning, Javi returns the cell phone to the center dash. He'd been hoping he could've gone up to your apartment and chivalrously escorted you down to the car, but your condo building was fenced off with a security and carport gate that required a passcode for entry. Flustered with being late, he ends up busily popping a mint into his mouth and crunching on it while he lowers the visor so he can peer at his appearance in the mirror.

He's fussing with his hair in the reflection when he sees the entry gate of the walkway open. Slapping the visor shut and giving the interior of his car one last glance, he gets out and walks around to the sidewalk in order to greet you.

As you shut the gate behind yourself, you see him out of the corner of your eye approaching, so you exclaim, "Hey! Sorry to keep you waiting—"

Javi pauses in his tracks when you turn and smile at him. He's punch-drunk by how you're dressed, feeling a scintillating déjà vu flood him over with heat that has him slipping his sunglasses off to stare at you.

You look relaxed and flirty in the capri-style light denim jeans, peach-toned camisole top, and leather sandalia-clad feet, hair gathered up in a twist with the rose-shaped clasp. Sans makeup except for the balm on your lips, you look seraphic and enchanting, especially when you approach him after putting your keys in your purse so you can have your hands free to rest them on his shoulders as you lean up and peck him on the lips hello.

"This is your idea of comfy clothing, eh?" you can't help razz as you step back and give him a sassy once over. "And boots?"

He snorts and slips his sunglasses into his dusky blue cotton button down shirt's breast pocket before chivalrously opening the passenger door for you. The infamous blue Levi's look just as impeccable on him as you remember, and his ass is begging for a squeeze when he leans in to adjust the passenger seat back for you to have ample leg room.

You manage to not give into the impulse of groping him, but just barely.

"These are my most comfortable pair, criticona," Javi teasingly mutters as he steps aside for you to get into the dark gray SUV. Once he closes your door for you, he circles to the driver's side and gets in, remarking, "I don't know what's going on, but traffic was ridiculous—"

"Today is the semi-final game for the Serie del Caribe, and Puerto Rico has been sweeping the tournament, so getting to the baseball stadium is a hot-ticket event," you tell him before sheepishly musing, "It totally slipped my mind! I remembered when I hit traffic right outside of my usual route home. I should've called and warned you—"

"Nah, that's all right," is his warm assurance, as he drives off. "You'll have to act as navigator, though, since I want to avoid the way I came," he remarks as he nods towards the folded-up map tucked between the center console and seat.

"Ah, luckily, the traffic shouldn't be an issue going into Old San Juan. Just keep straight, and at the end, turn right to merge onto the route towards the bridge," you're instructing as you adjust your seatbelt and smile, then remark, "Ellis has this car, too, only in tan. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, uh, I know," Javi chuckles, subtly reminding you that he'd ridden in the Ellis' tan Montero after you'd cussed him out and stormed off. He snickers when you bite your lip at the recall, and rumbles, "It's not bad. Not so different from other SUVs I've driven. Surprised by all the foreign cars down here."

"Yeah, Japanese cars have gotten really popular down here. They're more compact and fuel-efficient," you remark as you point to where he needs to go as he merges into the lane he needs to take to go over the bridge that connects the islet to the rest of the metropolitan area.

You keep making light conversation as you guide him through traffic to take the best routes into El Viejo San Juan's city center, and jovially point out landmarks to him as you go. Javier smiles when you excitedly lean over to point at the Capitolio and explain how that's where the Puerto Rican Congress and Senate gather.

"Is that El Morro?" he asks as he drives by the massive outer walls of what looks like a sprawling fortification with ample grounds that overlook the ocean.

"No, that's El Castillo San Cristobal. Oh, take this left here," you answer and direct, then proceed to guide him to the nearest carpark garage.

Once he's found an empty space and parked, he leaves his aviators in the dash cubby and pockets his cell phone before you lead him down to street level, leaving the building's front loggia before convivially taking his hand and excitedly towing him along to begin the romantic excursion.

It's a cloudy afternoon, but the brisk air is breezy and cool, and the sun peeks through every so often, warming your skin whenever it seeps around the tree-lined street's Spanish edifices. The foot traffic is meandering but not congested, so you're both able to stroll together without having people to really weave through. You think it's nice, and the fluttering current undulates around you both every so often and brings his warm, spicy cologne to tickle your nose and make you lean in closer to him.

Javi is dying to kiss you. Had been since the day before. But he doesn't want to derail you, or make it seem like all he wants is to jump right back into the carnality of wanting and having you. No, he's on his best behavior, treating this like a first date and corralling all base desire in order to focus and be present with you. Especially when you exuberantly lead him to cross the street so you both can stroll past shops while you gush about your favorite places to go when you're in Old San Juan.

"—It's so nice out today, but it would be even better to come on the weekend or when the cruise ships anchor at port, because all sorts of vendors, artesanos and performers line the streets and flank El Paseo de la Princesa," you're telling him as he interlaces his fingers with yours and marvels at the old-world charm of the buildings.

When you pass a few restaurants with outside seating on the front sidewalk, Javi squeezes your hand and gestures to the façade of a building he recognizes. "Steve and Connie took me here for dinner—"

At your scoff, he blinks down at you and sees you shaking your head at him with a wry smile before you tug him along to briskly stride away. "That's a tourist trap, Javi. Where all the gringos go for 'authentic Puerto Rican cuisine' and get mediocre arróz con habichuelas y bistec. What a travesty," is your snarky appraisal of the place before tutting playfully to him, "For shame, chavón—"

"It was alright," he chuckles, and at your sassy scoff, he tows you back when he pauses in stride so he can lean in to whisper in your ear, "Tan exijona. Luckily, I'm more than happy to let you guide me wherever you see fit."

The giddy tingle that courses down into your core has you tempted to just slink up against him in order to kiss his smugness away, but you control yourself and instead lilt, "I'm happy to guide you to real authentic Puerto Rican food soon, galán. But, for now? We're making the most of this early evening tour!"

He chuckles and lets you take his arm so you can thread it with yours and escort him along to the next corner before the street opens up into a larger avenue overlooking the southern precinct of the islet. When Javi points out the impressive edifice across the way that takes up an entire city block, and asks, "What's that building?" you smile.

"That is the first US federal building of significance built on the island. It's where the old Post Office was housed, and it's an active US courthouse. It faces the harbor, and was constructed on an old Spanish customs house. There used to be fortifications that were part of the bastion up ahead, but they made way for this building when the US beat Spain and took the island as a territory," you're telling him as you both cross the street and walk the sidewalk along the building's north side.

He's impressed as he looks up while you both lope by, and lets you point out more sights and landmarks once you get to the front entrance of the building that overlooks a cobblestone pedestrian inlet flanked by barriers that delineate it for foot traffic while drivers mill around it to traverse one-way routes in and out of the harbor-facing precinct.

Pretty soon, you're both ambling over to one of your favorite jaunts: El Paseo de la Princesa. It's a lovely, picturesquely timeless promenade that looks up at the city that yawns upwards on the hilly terrain it settled on centuries ago, flanked by the bastions with alcoves Javi knew were called garitas, aka sentry boxes for Spanish soldiers, standing watch. As you amble casually down the tree-lined, cobblestone promenade, you point out more sights, happily answering Javi's follow-up questions.

He's utterly charmed by the wonderful stroll with you, and genuinely interested in the history of each landmark you tell him about as you lope down until the impressive bronze-sculptured adorned fountain at the end of the promenade comes into view. At this time of day, La Fuente Raíces looks older than it actually is thanks to the rays of dusk gleaming off the waters from the harbor and haloing in the majestic misted spray of the fountain's many nozzles jettisoning the water around the monument depicting all of the different roots that make up the people of Puerto Rico. The bronze figure at the center of the monument is reaching up to the sky, and Javi stands before it to admire how majestic the landmark is.

He's noticing how the flag poles that align the perimeter of the end of the promenade are flying the US and Puerto Rican flags, and is about to comment on how intrigued he was that both were variations of red, white and blue – albeit with a single star versus the fifty he's used to, when you adjust your purse to be crossbody so you can grab his arm with both your hands and pull him closer to the fountain.

"Come, if you stand over here, you can see how the light from the sun makes the statues glow gold and copper," you're telling him jubilantly as you lead him to stand just behind and to the side of the fountain, where the breeze coming off of the harbor brings the fine mist from the water spraying up to the sky to sprinkle lightly over you both.

The glow of the sun from this angle is stunning, and when Javi looks from the bronze monument pedestaled at the center of the fountain to you, his dark brown eyes flare like rich cocoa under the light.

His breath catches in his chest from how radiant you look under the dusky sky, and before he's registered the impulse, he's cupped your cheek and leaned forward to kiss you with a passion unmatched by the heat of the sun's dying rays.

You don't shy away from it, and instead lean into him as you deepen the kiss, heart racing when his hand cups the small of your back, holding you close to him.

With the mist from the fountain carried over by the breeze, Javi is inundated with the smell of your dewy skin and the scent of your perfume, so much so that he reluctantly breaks the kiss in order to nuzzle you and sigh.

"You really know how to romance me, cariño," he husks ruggedly, and you snicker before amusedly swatting his shoulder.

"Yeah, well, quit getting carried away, suavón. We got a lot of walking and sightseeing to do before the sun sets, so c'mon," is your deriding murmur as you take his hand and tug him along to a walkway of patterned pavers that veers off from the promenade.

The path skirts the rocky edge of the shore and looks out to the bay, flanking the outer walls of the fortified city and leading to La Puerta de San Juan – the iconic gate that led into the historic city's walls. As you walk, you and Javi canoodle closer under the ruse of chatting more intimately in the cloistered walkway while the breeze and crashing of the waves made up the ambience around you both.

His arm slips around you and yours around his waist as you near the tree-canopied park just outside the ancient gate. Plenty of people are enjoying the breeze and sitting on the benches around the shade-abundant gathering place, and Javi is admiring the charming surroundings when you glance up at him and smile.

"Right through the gate, at the top of the street is one of the entrances to La Fortaleza, where the governor resides," you're remarking as you both meander up the path towards the fortified entry. "From here on, most of the city is on an incline going towards El Morro, so hope you can keep up—"

Javi hears the goading challenge in your lilting tone and gives you a smug grunt. "Just lead the way, guapita," is his puckish drawl as he affectionately pinches your waist.

Giggling and detaching from his side, you impishly skip ahead before making a come-hither gesture as you purr, "Vente, señorito."

He scoffs, licking his bottom lip and eyeing you as he marches on long strides to catch up, just before you amble off cheekily.

You skip up through the open gate and make it to the top of the street, expecting to turn and still see Javi just clearing the threshold of the fortified entry, and instead are surprised that he's right on your heels. An effervescent laugh flits out of you when he loops his arm around your waist and scoops you up against him as he swings you around.

"You mischievous little scamp," he rumbles in a steely purr against your ear before kissing you in the spot of your neck just below it. "Quit teasing me when I'm trying to be on my best behavior—"

Wiggling to slink down his front, you purse your lips and huff, "So am I! But you're too easy to rile up, so I can't help it."

He grunts and puts his arm around you when you nod in the direction of walking up the current street. "Figures," is his laconic hum, smiling when the arm you've looped back around his waist gives him an irreverent squeeze.

Managing to stroll up the winding streets and continue to banter lightheartedly, you both make it to the end of the inclining route and arrive at the top of the islet that looks out at the expansive green, knoll-like grounds that make up El Castillo San Felipe del Morro.

A citadel built on the northwesternmost point of the islet of Old San Juan, it takes advantage of the promontory that overlooks the entrance to the Bay of San Juan, which accounts for its name amongst the locals: El Morro. Under the now pink and peach-tinged clouds of the sky backlit by the blazing Caribbean sunset, the entire grounds looked utterly enchanting. So much so, that Javier just gaped at it with mystified wonder while you jovially waited for him to glance at you.

Across the lush green grass meadow, people were enjoying the splendor of the majestic site. Javi marveled at the kites being flown in the sky by kids and adults alike, the congenial clusters of people lounging together for late-day picnics, and the children running down the more sloping terrain playing games on who can go down and up the quickest. Overall, it was spectacular, and the splendor of it had him starry-eyed as the breeze from the ocean billowed up to bring him back down from the clouds.

"Holy shit," he breathes out and looks at you, completely smitten as he smiles and exclaims, "You weren't kidding. This is amazing, querida."

Beaming, you take his hand and simper, "I told you! Now, let's take a break and sit so we can watch the sun set."

You both end up finding a nice spot on the soft cool grass to lounge and admire the sky, cuddled sidelong together while people-watching and enjoying the magnificent beauty of the historic site. At one point, while Javi is pointing at one of the kites and remarking about how much air the flyer got on it, you find yourself staring at his profile and getting a warm recall. His smile when he turns to you and sees your expression soften only makes your heart flutter more.

This time, you're the one who pulls him close for a tender kiss on the lips.

Javier deepens it with a slip of his tongue, and before you know it, the hand at his nape curls up into the back of his hair and guides him down with you to the grass. He balances himself by planting a hand next to your shoulder, slipping the other behind your head to wrap fingers along your nape.

For a moment, the world bleeds away, and you both get lost in the make-out session until the delighted squeal of a child rings over the breeze and reminds you of where you're at. Javi grunts at the same time as you hum reluctantly to break the kiss, and when he leans back to stare handsomely down at you, the image of him doing the same thing, but in a dream you'd had once, flares like a resplendent vision in your mind's eye.

Sitting up with a faux pout when he shifts to lounge sidelong on his elbow, you grumble, "Who's romancing who now."

He chuckles and does that silly mueca where he cocks his jaw askew before tucking his chin low so he can give you a molten stare. "I'm blaming it on the magic of the island of enchantment," is his canela-dipped purr as he affectionately nudges his shoulder into yours.

You chuckle and lean into him, eyes twinkling under the dusky light cresting into the horizon as you glance over to see that the squealing child was a little boy as his father held him out like he was flying while he ran down the meadow.

Smiling at the heartwarming sight, you turn to Javi and ask, "How's your dad?" When his brows go up in surprise, you bump your shoulder playfully into him and snicker, "What? I've been wondering if he was against you coming down here, let alone to head the DEA again under the ruse of coming to court me—"

"You have that in reverse, corazón," he counters and cocks a glib brow at you before remarking, "I told him it would be different, he believed me, and didn't try to talk me out of leaving. He gets it," he pauses to smirk as he croons, "Plus, he made me promise that when I got you back, that I'd finally bring you home to meet him."

Heart summersaulting in your chest at that, you stare meekly up at him now as you query, "He wasn't disappointed? That you were investing your time into all of this again, after everything?"

He's surprised to hear you wonder that. Sure, the first time he'd talked to his father after he'd arrived in San Juan, Chucho had pressed him on whether he was sure about his plans, but that had been before he was able to update him a few days later that you hadn't strangled him in your fury, and that you both had agreed to take things slow. Well, it was an unspoken agreement, sure, but Javi had felt confident, and his father had seemed relieved and happy to hear it.

The look in your eyes right now though tells him you want honesty, not appeasement, so Javi dotingly combs the rogue strands of hair that have escaped your clasp to frame your face, and tucks them behind your ear for you, as he answers sincerely, "To tell you the truth, when a big box with all my stuff showed up on the doorstep at the house? Pops leveled with me that it might be time for me to move on," he pauses when your expression tenses, so he quickly continues, "But I couldn't. I spent months obsessing about things – wondering if I should've done more, and I tried reaching out to everyone I could think of that would know where you were; that had a way to contact you, and always struck out. But the moment Steve showed me the org chart here? I went home and told Pops I needed to take the job; to come down here. That it would be different this time, because I had the right reasons—"

"Javi," you interrupt and shift closer so you can confide, "I waited for you. And when I couldn't live with knowing how complicit everyone was in sabotaging you – that they'd set you up to fail? It made me sick, and I quit…but I reached out to Steve, hoping he could tell me where you were. I never got ahold of him, and by then? I had no reason to stay in Colombia anymore. And, I was convinced it was over and I would never see you again, so I packed the box and mailed it to your father's address, figuring you'd turn up there eventually."

"…I'm sorry, querida," he mumbles on an exhale and diverts his gaze before admitting, "My biggest regret was being too much of a chicken-shit idiot to have reached out after I'd left. That I didn't go back sooner."

You hear the genuine upset in his muttered tone, so you sigh and caress his cheek so he'll look back up to your eyes as you huff, "So? Does Mr. Jesus F. Peña hate me for stealing his son away, or not?"

Snorting at you, he follows up with his own question of, "How did you know that, and the address to the house? I never told you—"

"I may have peeked into a shoebox I'd accidentally knocked off the top shelf of your closet, and seen the envelope to a letter from him to you," is your impish drawl as you smile at him giving you an impressed look.

The dim twilight has advanced enough now over the expansive grounds that you both decide to start making your way back down to the cobblestone streets. Luckily for Javi, you could tell he was a bit peckish, so you'd suggested stopping for tapas and drinks at Barrachina. Walking down the hilly calles to the restaurant and bar was even more pleasant, thanks to the cool breeze languidly billowing about now that the twilight gave in to night, as well as the antique lamppost-lit plazas and parques you both strolled by while you'd point to landmarks or museums you promised to bring him back to next time you both were in the old city.

He's in such a great mood that he even lets you cajole him into getting a piña colada instead of his go-to whiskey neat, all because you raved about how good it was and how the location touted themselves as being the original creators of the world-renowned tropical drink. Even when he got a brain freeze, he still couldn't stop smirking while you gushed about all the places you still wanted to take him to.

By the time he's escorting you back out to the cobblestone avenue and down a promenade that will lead you back to the parking garage, you're feeling content. You rest your head on his arm while your hands are looped around his elbow, effectively tucking you close to him as you lope by the shops you'd passed when you'd first arrived, while you continue to banter.

"—I swear, my father understands and is supportive. I'll even call him so you can talk to him yourself, if you don't believe me," Javier is remarking while traversing through the evening foot traffic to the corner, voice a gravelly murmur in your ear, making a tingle of arousal flutter in your belly, as you both cross the street to enter the garage kiosk to settle up.

"I believe you, chulito," you chuckle and take his hand once he's paid and the ticket is validated.

"Should I be nervous about how your father will feel about us?" he inquires in a musing drawl, and cocks a concerned brow down at you when you scoff.

"That's a whole other story for another day, babe," you obfuscate smoothly as you bossily clasp his hand in both of yours, giving his palm a squeeze while walking towards the entry of the stairwell up to the parking levels.

"Does he even know about us…?" he can't help fish.

Humming, you concede, "He does. And he knows you're here," before pausing to sigh as you glance up at him and add, "But really, everyone knows about us."

You go on to briefly tell him the encounter with your father, and Javier internally steels himself to the eventual sizing up he'll have to be subjected to by the imposing and intimidating-sounding man. "—He knows a lot of people in business and government, and is known by reputation across all the spheres of influence that matter down here, and is esteemed by most. So, it's par for the course that he's wise to us and able to keep tabs, I guess."

Sounds like I got my work cut out for me, Javi thinks to himself as you continue to stride together down the main aisle towards where the car is parked.

After you get in, Javi turns to you before putting the key in the ignition in order to have the quiet of the interior so he can ask, "Can I take you out to dinner?"

Giggling, you whisper in a silly tone, "Javi, we just had dinner—"

"Yeah, but I mean a real dinner. Somewhere on the beach, with maybe some dancing?" he unabashedly proposes, and the smoldering look in his dark brewed eyes makes a shiver skitter down between your legs. "Doesn't have to be fancy. Just somewhere nice and casual you vouch for."

"I'd like that," you chime before serenely smiling, then caveating, "Friday would be the best, since traffic will be pandemonium the next couple of days due to the tournament's final games. And the vaguadas are coming in over the weekend, so all the beach chinchorros will be closed because of the weather, most likely."

"Alright, it's a date," Javier croons before leaning over to kiss you on the lips, pride expanding his chest when you return it with a few flirty pecks and a playful giggle. "You pick the chinchorro, since I have no clue."

"I know where to go, and it's fairly nearby, plays music, and is right on the beach," you chime silkily as he starts the car, and end up smiling sweetly when he makes a silly sound and nods sagely at you.

A little while later, and he's pulling up to the front of your condo building, parking at the curb a few feet from the sidewalk gate entry.

"I had a great time," you tell him, expression gentle as he turns to look at you puckishly. Making an amused sound, you pester, "Well? Did you? I know it was practically a hike, most of the time—"

"It wasn't. We're definitely making a day of going back, soon," he confidently declares before leaning close and asking, "Can I walk you up?"

You hesitate, seeming unsure if you should say yes, and Javi reads the cause for concern from the tense press of your lips, so he quickly assures, "Just want to escort you up. I promise—"

"Yes, sorry, I'm just," you pause before scoffing at yourself, then clarifying, "I'd like that."

Relieved, Javier gets out and comes around to your side of the car to take your hand as you shimmy out of the passenger seat. He's nothing but a gentleman after you key in the security code for the gate and lead him through the lush courtyard.

He catalogues how nice the surroundings are and notes the number of units as you lead him through the front lobby to the elevators.

"You got a security guard posted here?" he asks when you walk by the desk and enter the elevator once the doors have slid open.

"No, just a day and night attendant. The night guy's shift doesn't start for another 10 minutes, though," you explain as you press the button for your floor. "How do you like living in a house versus an apartment?"

"It's different, but nice. The neighborhood is quiet, Steve and Connie live not even a block over, so it kind of feels like old times. Just a lot more tranquil. Although, I do miss the amenities from my place back in Bogotá," he tells you as he leans back against the elevator wall, arm looping around you when you hum and sidle up next to him. "The provisioner and in-building dry cleaner was just too good. Now I gotta get my own groceries and trek my suits across town—"

"Awww, pobrecito," you deridingly coo as the elevator arrives on your floor and the doors slide open. Coquettishly taking his hand, you tow him along to exit onto the loggia-styled walkway towards your side of the hall. "Well, I love my apartment—"

Tugging you playfully back to cuddle against his side as you both stroll towards your door, Javi drawls, "I like how secure it is. No pendejo can just waltz up to your door and invite himself in."

You laugh wholeheartedly, and he feels soothed to hear your melodious giggle before it melts into that discordant little sigh he loves.

Once you're at the door, you key in and hesitate before turning to him and looking at him tentatively.

"I-Thanks for taking me out, and letting me drag you around," you murmur, snickering when he smirks and exhales amusedly out his nose before leaning his hand into the doorframe as you add, "I'll call you Friday to confirm?"

Nodding, Javier's gaze softens into that soulful stare that makes heat tingle up in you. "Looking forward to it," he rumbles before leaning in to kiss you chastely on the lips. He then curls his finger under your chin to affectionately raise your countenance up so he can husk debonairly, "Buenas noches, querida."

You have to suppress the urge to just grab him by his collar and drag him into your apartment so you can have your way with him like you long to, and instead smile dreamily as he turns to lope back down to the elevator.

"I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave, papisongo."

Javi pauses and turns, and his expression is priceless as you grin at him from the door.

"I cannot believe you said that," he incredulously chuckles, and his smile is beaming as it unearths his boyish dimple. "And you give me grief about my lines?" is his faux-huffy counter as he puts his hand on his hip and squints comically at you when you give him a flirty wink.

"Yeah well, it needed to be said! Now, good night, stud," you goofily exclaim, then purr the latter farewell, blowing him a silly kiss before going into your apartment.

Smitten, Javi chuckles to himself and resumes his exit, already pining to see you again.

Even when the rest of his week is filled with the stress and toil of running things while still learning the lay of the land, Javier is able to keep his spirits up. His team of agents are savvy and self-aware, personable and scrappy, so he doesn't feel the same kind of anxiety he did when he'd first arrived to oversee the investigation of the Cali cartel. However, there wasn't a fount of leads or knowledge about the criminal organization like there'd been for either of the Colombian cartels, so hearsay and conjecture were what fed the operations and surveillance assessments.

Still, with Steve finding leads that linked back to certain players in the underworld on the island, he was able to go into meeting after meeting with his suspicions about the syndicates that made up the Puerto Rican Mafia only becoming more credible.

During his morning briefing, he heard the first bit of intel that made his instincts perk up, and ordered Segarra to work with the legal team to request financial statements, pull permits, and search for contracts that had overlapping LLC or holding company titles.

His ASAC was eager to please after being dressed down overtly enough for the entire department to know and gossip about it, so while Javier was brushing up on studying the municipal maps and the topographic charts for the mainland, the man had surprised him by coming into his office with the first of the documents.

"—Check it out, boss. I got the expert on forensic accounting to dig into things, and there are definitely repeating LLC's doing business between here and the other islands. See here? There's a business license in St. Thomas that matches one here," Segarra is detailing as Javier flips through the files and skims everything. "I have a buddy that works at Banco Popular, and I have him looking for accounts that may have wired funds back and forth—"

"Make sure you have legal in the loop of that. I don't want to end up having solid intel inadmissible in court because you cut corners," is his commanding drawl, eyeing the man sharply before glancing back down at some particular public record disclosures. He doesn't see the narrowed glare his dismissive air inspires from his subordinate, but he can sense his resentments percolating, so he deadpans, "This is all promising, though. Do we know who the LLC holders are?"

"N-Not yet, sir. But I have a few resources digging through the paperwork, looking for any filings that list the company holders," Segarra tells him, adding purposely, "And I definitely went through the proper channels with the bank audit, but it never hurts to have a friend run point."

Javier glances aloofly up at him as he tersely orders, "Let me know once you have the information."

"Yes, sir," the man curtly replies before heading out of his office.

Resuming his scan of the documents, Javi wonders about the LLC, and decides to put out some feelers for intel stateside, so he makes a call to Spencer. The man gives him some excellent contacts to reach out to for a deeper accounting of the information, before taking his usual opportunity to wax regretful that he couldn't convince him to take on Mexico.

"—It's looking like a crapshoot anyway down there. So, at the very least, you have a lot more enchanting surroundings, and company – or so I hear."

Miffed by the comment, Javier had curtly found a way to end the call, only to end up stewing. After all, he really was getting used to everyone knowing about him and you. It still raised his hackles to hear anyone reference you so glibly, let alone with a knowing undertone that spoke of amused recrimination.

Even when Steve would razz him like he had that morning during their morning jog – quipping, "Wonder how long it'll be before you both play hooky and run off to get married" – a feeling of protectiveness would twinge in his gut, and he'd have to remind himself that there was no threat. No looming fallout or harassment coming your way because of him.

Not anymore, anyway…

His stewing couldn't last for long, though. Not with more intel coming in from the port survey he'd requested. The logs and manifests took up so much of his time, that he didn't realize how late in the day it'd gotten until his cell phone started ringing, and he retrieved it while sparing a glance at his watch. "Peña."

"Hey. Wanted to see if we were still on for tonight?" your silky voice snaps him to attention to realize it was already past 5pm and he still needed to head home to change. He muffles a swear as he rushes from his desk chair to collect his blazer in order to head out, and you interpret it as reluctance to answer, so you end up asking tentatively, "Is it not a good time—?"

"No, no, sorry. I just lost track of time," Javier counters as he tosses all the documents back into their folders before setting the pile aside as he insists, "I'm running late, but I'll pick you up—"

"Oh, well if you want, just meet me there. The later it gets, the harder it'll be to get a table, so I'll take a cab there and wait," you cut in with the suggestion, and Javi frowns as he exits his office and rushes through the mostly quiet department. "I know traffic will be tough, so no rush—"

Glowering as he stalks out to the elevator and presses the button, Javi forlornly mutters, "I'm sorry, querida. I'll be there as soon as I can."

You giggle at his huffy tone, and mollify, "Don't worry about it, boss man. I'll just pass the time wondering what outfit you're gonna show up in that'll make me wanna tease you some more."

Feeling a tremor of desire pulse through him, Javi smirks as he takes the elevator down to the lobby. "Such a damn coqueta," he rumbles, and you hum innocently over the line before telling him the address and the best route to take. "—Alright, I'll see you soon."

"Drive safe. Bye."

He hustles out of the building and finds Kike sitting in the parked SUV while listening to reggaetón, caught up in the beat and not noticing him until he's at the passenger's side door, knocking on the window. The rookie jumps before lowering the radio and unlocking the doors.

"You working late on a Friday, sir!" Kike remarks jovially before turning the car on while Javi hops in and puts his seatbelt on.

"Yeah, lost track of time. Sorry for keeping you," he mutters as Kike drives them down to the security gate, then heads down the avenue en route to his house.

"No problem!" Kike assures as he drives, fingers tapping along to the beat of the song still playing low on the radio. The man had learned that Javier is more taciturn at the end of the day, so he makes a conscientious effort not to engage in idle chatter now, figuring he wants to decompress from his day.

"…How would you dress to go to a chinchorro on a Friday night?"

Kike's wide expressive eyes flash over at him in surprise, and Javi instantly regrets asking, feeling like a damn tourist, but luckily for him, the younger officer is more than happy to impart his wisdom as sociable local, and by the time Javi is dropped off at his place, he's confident and ready to impress you.

While he hurries to get ready, you're just getting in the cab that'll chauffeur you to the open-air restaurant and hangout on the beach. Excitement buzzes through you as you drive, but your mind preoccupies your thoughts with the news you'd gotten during your doctor's appointment. It'd been a good news-bad news kind of discussion with your primary care physician, whom was in consultation with your OBGYN, and you felt ambivalent as you rehashed it all, fixating on what was still unknown.

The results of your bloodwork were good. Blood pressure and cholesterol were normal, and your hormonal levels weren't irregular. You'd even surpassed your goal weight and gotten the encouragement to relax on your dieting. However, you'd been off of birth control for weeks, and while your headaches and fatigue had gone away, you'd not had a menstrual cycle. Noting that on your chart after conducting a physical, the doctor had administered a rapid pregnancy test as was standard in order to rule it out. It'd been negative, so the bad news was that you could be suffering from amenorrhea. And unfortunately, only more checkups in the coming months would rule it out as a diagnosis. But if there were several menstrual cycles missed? The chances that the amenorrhea was a permanent issue, and that it could be caused by a disease or chronic condition increased in probability. More testing would need to happen, and could lead to a diagnosis you'd been worrying about for a while now.

Infertility.

It was overwhelming to think about it, and even though the doctor had insisted it was still too early to jump to that conclusion, you felt it was inevitable. That you had to start building up your defenses to it being a reality.

As you exit the cab now and pay the driver, you feel an ache in your chest that you can't quite place while you smoothen out the skirt of your sleeveless abstract print jade-and-terracotta slip dress. Adjusting your beaded pouch purse to be crossbody before you straighten the ankle strap to your flat leather strappy sandal, you try to chalk it up to fretting over nothing. But by the time you walk in and get seated at a table on the outside deck overlooking the sandy beach and rocky shore beyond, the ache becomes a pang of worry.

What if Javi wants to settle down, and start a family?

The thought preoccupies you for a while, making you reticent as you sit alone and stare faraway at the horizon line. Your fingers absently toy with your hair after the breeze tousles it, and before you know it, you've worried your bottom lip dry from fixating on the what ifs and worst-case scenarios. Annoyed, you shake yourself free of the anxious thoughts and retrieve your satiny lipstick from your purse to reapply it to your lips and force yourself to stay grounded in the now.

The restaurant is full, but not crowded, with most lingering at the bar and dancing to the cheerful salsa music playing. The sunset gleams across the waters at the shore, and you get lost in the splendor of it while you sway along to the romantic oldie. So much so, that you don't sense someone approaching your direction until they're right next to you.

Javier was besotted the moment he laid eyes on you when he came in through the restaurant and spotted you out on the wood deck, by the veranda. The sunset was melting into the horizon, and the glow of the dusky hues illuminated you beautifully, managing to both cast you in soft relief and make your features striking as you turned your expression towards him and blinked in surprise.

"Christ, you look stunning," Javi rumbles as he stares at you, not sure what to do first: kiss you, pull you up into his arms, or just pick you up and take you somewhere secluded along the fronds that lushly skirt the beach beyond so he can properly fawn over you.

You're smiling as you turn in your chair and get an appreciative gander at his toffee-colored chino pants, warm cream short-sleeved button down, and dark-leathered beefroll penny loafers with a matching brown belt. He looks freshly showered and shaved, hair curling along his forehead and down his nape, eyes flaring the richest tone of brown thanks to the dying sunlight catching in his irises.

Unable to help yourself, you get up and encircle his waist brazenly before purring, "You've had this outfit waiting in the wings for this long, and you dare strut in here como modelo when I'm trying so hard to behave?!"

He snorts wryly at you before cupping the hinge of your jaw and leaning down for a kiss, brushing his lips chastely over yours before tracing his thumb along your cheek. "Hmph, all credit goes to the rookie that drives me for telling me what to wear out for a nice dinner on the beach here," is Javi's honeyed quip, smirking when you hum a charmed sound and affectionately swipe the pad of your thumb over his lips in order to remove the lipstick print you left on the pillowy morsels while he smiles and murmurs around it, "Hope you haven't been waiting long—"

"No, not long at all. It was nice to just sit and stare off for a bit," you sigh as he pushes in your chair for you once you've sat back down. "How've you been?"

Javi sits across from you and admires the way the breeze flutters your lovely hair about. "Busy, but ok. Been having a hard time deciphering the way things are done down here. This case is an odd one," he answers and immediately shakes his head at himself before muttering, "Sorry, I won't bore you—"

You snicker and reach for his hand after he's idly rested it on the table. "You're not. Things are different here when it comes to the way everything operates," you remark, not wanting to reference the topic overtly, for fear people might hear and become nosy. "How's Steve doing? Bet it's been tough for him too."

Nodding, Javi grouses, "Yeah, plus he travels out to the Virgin Islands every so often, but it's been good having the hillbilly around to bounce ideas off of again."

Chuckling with irreverent glee, you squeeze his hand and hiss, "Que malo eres, always deriding that whiteboy."

He laughs and takes your hand in his, features warm with affection as he asks, "And how was your day?"

Part of you wilts, but you catch yourself before it reaches your face, as you decide to answer coolly, "It was ok. Had to do some unpleasant boss stuff."

You end up telling him about having to let a few people go, and purposely decide not to tell him about the doctor appointments or the health concerns you've been worrying about. It feels too unstable and precarious to voice it to anyone, let alone to him. Not with how fledgling everything still felt, especially when your insecurity was burrowing deep into the part of you that didn't want to acknowledge the possibilities of a loss that could erode things between you and Javi. That could dictate plans yet to be considered.

Keeping it to yourself feels like the only option right now.

"—So yeah. Getting rid of the acomodados is never a popular thing," you're summing up now that a waitress finally makes her way to your table. Once she's taken your drink and food orders, you glance back at the dance floor when more upbeat salsa music starts playing and couples eagerly cut a rug.

Javi follows your gaze and smirks before suggesting, "Wanna dance?"

"I'd love to," is your sincere murmur as you stare alluringly at him with a soft smile on your plush lips.

Dancing with Javi floods you with memories and yearning, and from the way he holds you close after he spins and dips you, it's obvious he's feeling the same. Especially when the slow-tempo song comes on and he nuzzles your temple when you loop your arms around him. You brush your nose against his collar while you both sway to the ballad, letting his rugged scent curl warmth through you like your favorite spiced rum does when it hits your bloodstream.

The way you sigh and lull your head onto his shoulder allows him to get lost in the moment with you. To breathe in the perfume of your skin and the soft scent of your hair while the crowd around you both melts away. It feels like no time has passed, and all the time has rushed by him all at once while the gravitation between you both remained constant. That the love remained everlasting, waiting for you two to find your way back to each other. It makes something effervescent crest up in his chest, and all he wants to do is cherish you forever. To tell you what he's been resisting blurting out every time it burns behind his sternum, for fear of making your walls go back up in defensive self-preservation.

He could feel the doubtfulness and hesitance bubble up in you still at times. It made you meek, even rueful, whenever you seemed close to forgetting everything from before – to falling back into amorous serenity with him again. Javi understood why, but was longing to get you to a place where you felt safe enough to trust him completely again.

Still, he feels branded from the inside out with the need to profess exactly how he feels, and just as he musters the bravery to say it, he sees the waitress arrive at your table with your orders, so he kisses your temple and escorts you off of the dance floor, back to the veranda.

Dinner is wonderful, filled with silly banter and congenial catching up, especially on Javier's side. He acquiesced to your playful curiosity about what he'd been up to before coming down to Puerto Rico, so he tells you about how he'd been living back in Laredo, how it was being home for so long after being gone for so long, and he happily told you the good, the bad, and the exasperating tidbits as the ambiance of the establishment gets more animated with more patrons arriving, dancing, and waiting at the counter to put in standing food orders.

You love hearing about his friends – especially the anecdote he shares now about his neighbors, Luis and Eddie Zapata, who helped him and his father chase a few horses that got loose from the paddock and ran amuck one afternoon – and how he'd been able to decompress after everything that had happened with the Cali investigation.

Dreamily, you start to wonder out loud, "Don't you miss it?" When his eyes crinkle with confusion, you elaborate, "I mean, it sounds so nice. Completely the opposite of all the tumultuousness – just a safer, comfortable life. No stressing or despairing over meaningless things; getting to be around friends and family, keeping active on the ranch, but still getting to help your old department there without the commitment of needing to run yourself into the ground—"

"Celina."

Your eyes focus again and you blink bemusedly at him, having gotten lost in pensive thought as you painted the picture of a life better lived for him, one away from the life he'd left behind with you.

Bashfully, you look away and dismiss, "Sorry, I'm just rambling…"

He frowns as you retreat back into yourself, feigning a calm semblance as you finish your drink.

It pains him, but he realizes that professing his love right now would likely make you emotionally withdraw, so he decides to change the subject in order to coax you back from the reserved place you've slipped into.

"Murphy suggested we double date on Valentine's Day," he's remarking as he busily collects your disposable plates and cups in order to clear the small table and make it obvious to the waitress that she can bring the bill.

Amiably snickering, you lilt, "Oh? And you agreed to that?"

"I mean, I wouldn't say that," Javi dryly chuckles, smirking when you raise your brows amusedly. "I figured it'd be tough to get a table anywhere that day as just a couple—"

"Oh, it would, but there are a few places we could definitely get a table, as long as I have my friend call to make the reservation for us," you confidently chime as you lean back in your chair and cross your legs relaxedly.

He hums, intrigued, and eyes you interestedly as the waitress appears with the check, and he settles up quickly by handing the money and telling her to keep the rest. Once she's cleared the table and wished you both a nice night, Javi keenly leans over the table top, and gives you a bossy look.

"Using influence to get your way?" he queries playfully, smirking when you scoff at his goading connotation.

"Hey, if you want to take me out on Valentine's, you'll have to take advantage of me having a famous friend who gets in pretty much wherever she wants, and who'll happily reserve a table for four, just for me," you tease, snickering when he gives you a wry pout. "What, you a boy scout now too?"

Javier is about to counter your quip when the music starts to play loudly to accommodate the patrons who are dancing, and drowns out the drone of the crowds loitering about or ordering boisterously at the kiosk window attached to the long counter.

Leaning over to get his attention over the hopping merengue song currently playing, you shout, "Wanna stroll along the beach?"

With a pleased nod, Javi stands and helps you out of your seat before escorting you across the deck down the steps and onto the sandy beachfront. He immediately realizes though that he won't get far with his shoes on, but then you're reaching down to tug your sandals off with carefree whimsy, so he takes his loafers off and holds both at his side, hooked at the inner heel support and takes your hand with his free one once you've adjusted to carry your sandals on your opposite side.

Javi lets you navigate the meandering stroll down to the shore while you explain, "So this isn't really a beach for swimming, but right around the bend is a really great view of Isla Verde and El Condado."

As you both walk barefoot over the damp sand, Javi admires the beauty of the now twilight glowing over the ocean water, mindful to watch his step as you tug him along to follow around the rocky or jagged edge of an outcropping that obscures the path just on the other side of it.

"You come here a lot?" he asks when you squeeze his hand and lead him around the shore towards a cluster of fronds that rustle from the cool breeze.

"Yeah, since I was a kid. A lot of the businesses around here weren't here back then, just the main kiosko, but this hidden path was one I'd sneak off to when my parents weren't looking," you tell him as you lead him along the shady thatch created by the palm trees and fronds, smiling just as you guide him to the opposite side and reveal the amazing view.

In early twilight, the coastline across the bay looks like a glimmering strip, and the beaches were empty save for the crashes of the waves and the distant cawing of birds settling in for the nocturnal hours. He's awed by how enchanting it is, and lets his gaze sweep over the lovely view before he looks over at you now.

You'd been watching him, smitten with how his dark eyes widened and his expression softened. The distant echo of the music from the different businesses was little more than a hum over the gusting breeze and the lulling tide before you and beyond.

Your heart is beating fast for some reason, and Javier's soulful gaze staring unguardedly at you now has something tender worming free from the deepest, most insecure part of you.

"Javi…did you mean it? When you said you came here for me?" you're suddenly asking, expression etching with worry when he stares at you with incomprehension creasing his eyes and parting his lips. "I-I don't want you to give up anything that matters to you—to quit your job or throw away opportunities—"

Dropping his shoes to the sand, he faces you head on and cups his hands over your shoulders before caressing them down your arms. "I'm not. I did come here to be with you, querida, but I'm not missing out on anything else. I never stopped wanting the life we'd planned together. Yeah, it's a little different now, but all that matters to me is making it with you," Javi purposely vows, hands caressing you soothingly as you exhale and stare with open emotion into his pleading gaze. "I swear, I meant it. If you decided you couldn't commit to making things work because I was in the DEA—"

"No, Javi, I-I don't want you to give up your career—" you begin to fret, but Javi shakes his head at you, frustrated that you don't understand his meaning. "I just don't want to be the reason you end up regretting things—"

Imploringly, Javi cups your cheek and cuts in, "That's not going to happen. I'm not saying I'm giving anything up. I just meant that I can do whatever – that I'm not letting anything else dictate what happens to us, or affect our lives, however we want to go about being together—"

Overwhelmed, you pull away and drop your sandals to the sand so you can wrap your arms around yourself as you try to collect your emotional bearings. You're shivering, and it's not just because the blustery wind is becoming chilly as twilight becomes a starry night.

You sense Javi draw closer, and are about to turn and apologize when you feel warm, soft cotton drape over your shoulders. His scent envelops you, and you turn when you realize he'd taken off his shirt and wrapped it around you. Now in only his chino pants and the white undershirt, Javi chivalrously loops your waist with his arms and holds you to him in order to ward off the chill coming from the impending tropical winter deluges forecasted.

Pressing your nose to nuzzle into his chest after you tuck yourself against him, you murmur, "Since when did you start wearing these?"

He chuckles musingly, "Since I got down here and was sweating through my shirts like a pig."

You let out a simpering laugh and hug him.

An easy silence passes between you for a beat, and you get lost in the heat of his skin, the thrum of his heart against your ear, and the sounds of the breezy shore several yards away.

"I've been so scared of letting myself feel the way I did again," you suddenly susurrate, tone a tremulous whisper. So much so that at first, Javier wasn't sure he'd even heard you right. But then you look up at him and mumble, "I'm just so scared—"

He feels his heart wrench in his chest at your words and the woeful look in your eyes. "Please, mi amor. You don't have to be. I swear it'll all be different—"

You pull away then and try to rein in your emotion, to wrestle it back into the cage it's escaped before you become consumed by it. But then something searing flashes up through you when you think about how pushing him away now will devastate you, and before you can contend with either swaying you away further, you turn to Javi and just blurt it out.

"I love you," you profess before exhaling a shaky breath, and forging on, "I've never stopped loving you, and it terrifies me that I could go on the rest of my life loving you—only loving you, even if everything falls apart again. I'm so fucking scared; d-don't want to end up being something you regret, that I can't give you the life you want. That makes you leave again for good because I can't make you happy and I can't be enough for you—"

Javier is swooping over to consolingly ground you in his arms before he rushes out passionately, "You are enough. I've never left because of you, Celina. I was never happier than when we were together; never more hopeful than when I realized I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you."

He cups your face then and holds your watery gaze as he finally says what's been blazing in his chest for so long.

"I love you, Celina. I will never stop loving you. All I want, is to love you forever," Javier declares with a hoarse, suppliant baritone that rakes free the fire of his emotions as he husks, "Please, let me love you, mi vida."

Tears escape your eyes and roll down your cheeks before you catch your breath enough to whisper, "I want to. I just want to be with you, Javi," pausing to slip your arms around his shoulders and bury your flustered features against him before stammering, "I love you so much. J-Just want to be safe with you."

Both relieved and overcome, Javi holds you tight before nuzzling you lovingly and kissing you amorously when you turn to capture his lips imploring need.

You melt against him when he deepens the kiss, heart soaring as you thread your fingers into the back of his hair, swooning when his ardent embrace presses you against him protectively.

A loud car backfires in the distance, back in the direction of the beach-facing establishments, and you jump, breaking the kiss and causing Javi to squeeze you affectionately before you laugh at yourself.

"Sorry—"

"No, it's alright—"

You exhale a frazzled sound before staring at him through your lashes.

He senses you getting pensive again, so he decides to reassure you as earnestly as possible, by pressing, "I'm willing to do anything you need, whatever I can, to make you feel safe. Anything—"

"I know, Javi. I believe you," you exhale and caress your hands up his chest before murmuring over the wind, "I'm sorry for making you feel like that—"

"Don't be," he sincerely stresses before his features soften as he asks, "Can we…will you let me earn your trust back? I know you can't just forget what happened, but we can take things slow—no rushing into anything," he pauses, dark brewed eyes earnest as he emphasizes hopefully, "We can try again—just be together, and see where things go."

Feeling your heart race, you find yourself relinquishing control to it as you eagerly pipe, "Yes, I want to—I feel the same way."

The way his low-lit features perk up at your answer is enough to make you feel like this is right. Like just the promise of letting your feelings for each other thrive is enough to see you through to the next unknown milestone between you both. So, you lean up on your tippy toes and kiss him before slinging your arms around his neck.

Sublime calm settles over him, and he hugs you possessively before nuzzling you as he lets out a relieved sigh.

Snapping yourself back from the infatuated daze of being with him like this, you clear your throat and bossily nudge your temple into his cheek with a grunt.

"We should probably get out of here before a patrol rolls by and yells at us for being on the beach after dark," is your silly huff as you encircle his waist and meekly smile when he holds you in place so he can give you a moustache-tickly smooch on the cheek while the wind starts whipping across the nocturnal beach with a howl.

"It feels like it's going to start raining any minute, anyway," Javi grouses as he leads you over to retrieve both your shoes.

"Yeah, you can smell it in the air," you remark as you dust the soles of your feet before slipping your sandals back on. At Javi doing the same, you shrug his shirt off and hand it back to him as you chuckle, "Don't worry. We'll go the shortcut that takes us towards the parking lot."

Humming, he accepts his shirt before asking, "You sure? I don't mind if you wear it to the car—"

"Well, walking back to the kiosko with your shirt on is definitely going to look like we had sex on the beach," you joke, snickering when he scoffs derisively and quickly slips his shirt on before fastening it shut.

"And that would be such a bad thing?" he teases as he tucks the shirt in and takes your hand so you can lead him up the secret path that loops up a sturdy slope and over a gravel footpath tucked behind some closed structures.

"Uh, yeah! This beach isn't the cleanest spot to get laid on," you chortle as you squeeze his hand and look over your shoulder cheekily at him while you drawl, "And sex on the beach is not as sexy as it sounds."

"Oh, is that a fact?" he croons, sidling up to you now once the nearby lamp pole flickers on and provides enough illumination for you both to trek towards the bustling beachy hangouts.

Wrinkling your nose cutely, you tell him matter-of-factly, "Sand getting in your delicate crevices is not fun, sir."

Javier laughs that warm, full-chested guffaw you love, and you feel on cloud nine as you both stride the remaining distance to weave through the cars of the parking lot's outskirts before he cups the small of your back and leads you to his SUV.

The drive out of the hopping district with the two-lane road that intersects it is pleasant. You both listen to the salsa oldie playing on the radio in comfortable silence, until you glance out the window and notice how the dark clouds are rolling in now from the east. Just as you're going to remark, 'It's going to pour,' a muted sound of thunder grumbles in the distance.

You look over at Javier once he gets to the intersection leading out of the coastal scenic route and direct him to the correct exit that'll take him back to the highway going northwest. Traffic is thankfully not congested, and he cruises down the ramp leading into your condo's street not even ten minutes later. However, by the time he's pulling up to the building, the dark clouds had blanketed the metropolitan area and opened up, quickly going from a light drizzle to a pounding rain that obscures the windshield and has him setting the wipers on the highest setting to keep up with the pouring stream.

"Shit, I don't have an umbrella," Javi laments as he frowns out the windshield. "We'll have to make a run for it—"

"Just pull up into the driveway. I'll give you the gate code," you tell him congenially, blinking at him when he looks at you with surprise lighting up his eyes. "What? It's better than getting soaked. My visitor's spot is under the garage's awning. We'll be able to walk up to the lobby without getting wet."

Not having any reason to object, Javi turns the wheel and navigates the car into the driveway entry up to the automatic gate, lowers his window, and punches in the security code you recite to him.

Soon, he's parked in the spot you indicated and getting out of the car to escort you chivalrously up the garage's lobby entry and over to the elevator, passing the night attendant who nods in acknowledgement before returning to his newspaper. The ride up in the elevator to your floor is filled with banter, a repartee that is teasing as he gripes about the lack of proper security protocols for your condo.

"—Didn't even ask me to sign in! What does he even do? Just sit there all night, twiddling his thumbs?" he sneers when the elevator doors slide open onto your floor. You scoff impishly at him, so he grumbles, "And what's stopping anyone from getting the gate code and coming in—"

"Oh my god, you're worse than my father!" you chastise sassily and swat him playfully on the chest when he grunts huffily at you. "This isn't the embassy or Fort Knox! Everyone who lives here? They're mostly savvy professionals who like their privacy, and the night attendant is on duty in case there is an emergency of some kind," is your judicious musing as you lean into his side when he loops his arm around you and guides you to stay closer to the interior side of the loggia so you don't get wet from the rain being whipped about by the wind.

"Yeah, well—so much for keeping the pendejos out," he dryly jokes, and you giggle, unable to not grin when he gives you his goofy pout.

"Correction: so much for keeping the guapo descarados out," you tease.

Javi snorts, expression smug as you arrive at your door.

He watches as you retrieve your keys and unlock it, and presses his hand into the doorframe, already preparing to lean in and kiss you goodnight. So, when you open the door and push it wide so you can stand in the threshold as you swing your purse off from your person, toss it onto the nearby side table, and then place your keys in the bowl, Javier doesn't immediately sense what you're doing.

At least not until you turn back to him and peer up alluringly at him with a tentative flutter of your lashes.

"Do you want to come in?"

The silky query is said with a hopeful lilt to the timbre in your voice – eyes dazzling as you stare openly at him, and Javi feels heat course up his spine before zinging down into his apex.

He answers by stepping through the threshold and closing the door behind him with a firm shove.

You unseeingly lock it before taking his hands and pulling him further into your sanctuary, excited to show him your space. But really, after giving the surroundings a practiced, scrutinizing assessment – cataloguing the floorplan and noting that to his left the hallway leads to your bedroom at the end of it and to the right, Javi's attention is intently on you while you susurrate, "Come, get comfy. I think I have whiskey in the sideboard—"

You pause in your intended waltz over to said sideboard when Javier's hand doesn't let yours go.

The sound of the rain pelting against the banister and ceramic pots of the outdoor plants on the balcony is a muted patter inside the apartment, and the gusty breeze filters through the strategically ajar crank windows in the space while your breath catches in your chest. Distant traffic from the city blocks and highway beyond is nothing but a hum over the sounds of Javi whispering in your ear while he presses you against the wall in your hallway as your pulse races and your body arches against his. Rumbling thunder buzzes through the concrete walls and the smooth, glazed floor tile while you moan his name and cling to him in your state of semi-undress midway to your bedroom.

Swept up in the whirlwind of desire, all other sounds and sensations cease to matter now that you've kicked off the last of your clothes after stripping Javi of his. No, only the gravitation that exists between you – that incandescently heightens everything as you're both giving into each other, is what matters.

The carnal ecstasy spun up while in the throes of passion, after yearning for each other for far too long, is what you're dialed into. Especially when it fuels the pleasure and need only the other can liberate and nurture.

Picking you up and climbing onto your white-and-lilac-patterned quilt-covered bed with you, Javier rakes said need to throb achingly at your center when he grazes his teeth down the tender slope of your shoulder before suckling a possessive mark that makes you whimper and arch while your legs wrapping around his waist.

"Javi—please," you beg, hands clutching at his back while he keeps rutting his pulsing cock along your soaked folds before he slips a hand between your bodies to zero in on your clit. When his touch brushes the pulsing bundle, you cry out with needy hunger and fist a hand into his hair with desperation. "Please, mi amor, n-need it—"

"I know, baby, I know. You're doing so good, taking what I give you. Just let me make you feel good," Javi coos hotly against your ear before nipping the delicate spot just under it lightly. He feels you gush a fresh, warm slick of arousal on his cock, which snatches a pleased groan from his throat before he grinds more pressure over your thrumming pleasure point, and growls, "That's it, hermosa. Get my cock nice and wet. Come for me like this, and I'll fuck this heavenly pussy all night—"

Your gasp comes out a sob as you fall apart under his ruinously perfect coaxing, overloading you with his velvety commands and unabashed promises after going so long without him making you melt down to tingling sinew.

He watches with primal pride as your features become beatific when you moan and climax, eyes fluttering shut and mouth falling open in blissful delight.

You're trembling from how scintillating your orgasm was, eyes heavy while you breathe panting intakes of air to regain your breath. As you come down from it, you dimly realize Javi is gazing at you with a molten look in his eyes while he soothingly brushes the hair clinging to your sweaty skin back from your flushed features.

"Never get enough of watching you come. Look so fucking beautiful, querida," Javi gravels in a low purr before he noses into the hair at your temple and whispers, "Eres divina. Tan pinche perfecta."

A shiver courses through you at him proclaiming, 'You're divine. So fucking perfect,' to you when you've felt anything but. Your glossy eyes focus when he leans up to gaze down at you, giving you an enamored look that has you wanting to make him feel just as glorious as he's making you feel right now.

He grunts a lustful sound when you yank him down to meet your ardent kiss, groaning when your tongue sweeps into his mouth and you passionately grope your way down his body to line him at where you need him the most before undulating your pelvis to grind his cock into your drenched heat.

While the deluge and blustery breeze claim the world outside of your bedroom windows, you and Javi revel in each other, only registering the stormy event occurring beyond the confines of your bed when the cool air seeps through the slat windows and billows past your fluttering curtains to caress your heated flesh.

Savoring the salt of your skin as he scrapes his ravenous mouth down your craned neck after a particularly pounding thrust that has you arching in rapture, Javier ends up suckling hard on your nipple and grips you at the small of your back with one hand while the other clutches the back for your thigh roughly after you rock onto his cock fiercely and moan for more.

Your fingers dig into his back when he snarls and slams into you with abandon now, moustache grazing your skin as he drags his mouth back up from your chest to possessively claim yours in a feral kiss.

He winces against your mouth when your nails pinch into his sweaty back just under his shoulder blades and you whimper a reedy, desperate noise that tells him you're about to be seared through with another orgasm thanks to his bruising thrusts angling up into that devastatingly amazing spot you can't reach inside yourself. Your knees pull up and cling for purchase as you chase your need by meeting his pounding, piston-like strokes with the drenched squelch of your silken cunt clenching around his cock every time he slams in. The rapacious way your body is reacting to him along with your shameless hunger to claim him with as much ferocity as he's claiming you has Javier quickly barreling towards the precipice of pleasure before you ruinously fling him over the edge by nipping hard on the spot just below his jawline when you climax.

"Dios mío—mmph, C-Celina!" Javi grits out before moaning your name as he comes, lost to the scalding pleasure of reaching bliss as you cry out and writhe in the throes of lascivious euphoria under him.

He collapses on top of you after he empties his climax deep into your quivering center just before his muscles turn to jelly from getting off so fiercely. Drunkenly, he nuzzles into your sweaty neck and swears hoarsely, "Fucking hell, oh fuck. Jesus Christ, baby—"

You lie under him with a dreamy-yet-spent smile on your wrecked features as you confess unseeingly to the ceiling, "That was fucking amazing, Javier."

He shudders at the praise and musters the will to shift enough onto his forearms so he's not pressing his full weight onto you before he pivots to pull his cock out of your tender pussy to watch his cum drip greedily in his wake. He groans in savage accomplishment at seeing the pearly mess gleam in the lowlight as it pools on the quilt.

At your fawning exhale, Javi looks from the glorious sight up to your lovely, albeit ravished smile and gets punch-drunk by the amorous glow in your eyes as you reach for him.

He easily curls over you to be within the reach of your doting, reverent kisses, content to just hold you like this against him while your soft plush lips press into his overheated cheeks and jaw.

But then he catches your stare and gets pinned in place by it, because you're looking at him as if he'd hung the moon in the sky for you.

"I missed being yours. Missed you so much, Javier," you susurrate in a smoky timbre, dark lashes looking dewy in the dimness of the space as you flutter them clear of any tears before professing, "I just want to be with you, forever," then brush your lips worshipfully against his before whispering, "I love you with all my heart."

The feeling your words stokes in him burns like camphor in his chest, simultaneously making him feel deserving and profoundly at peace. It fills him up with an immense urge to shower you with devotion – to keep proving how worthy he is of you by worshiping you with the passion burning in his veins and rooting itself deep into his marrow.

Javier wants to make a vow to you for life, but is so overcome with the enthralling love he feels for you right now that he can only focus on proclaiming his adoration to you the best way he knows how – that is hardcoded within him.

He makes love to you throughout the night, and you both eventually succumb to the utter exhaustion of being fulfilled and at peace in each other's embraces while the vaguada settles over the atmosphere outside, keeping the air fresh and tranquil in your bedroom, preserving the moment and prolonging the blissful serenity between you.

A serenity comprised of all the matters to you both:

Your love.

________________

Read Chapter 42: Reflection

Spanish-English Glossary:

La Isla del Encanto = The Island of Enchantment

Buen día = Good day/Good morning

Vaguadas = Monsoon-style bad weather; heavy rainstorms

Día de Amor y Amistad = Day of Love and Friendship

Buen amigo = Good friend

Miembro del senado = Member of the Senate

Caserío = Public housing; housing project

Terraza = Terrace; usually a tiled patio in a backyard

Buenas tardes, directora = Good afternoon, director

Chavón = A man that's pestering you

Tan mala = So bad; So mean

Doña = Lady; Missus

Beyako = Puerto Rican slang for horny/naughty guy; akin to "horn dog"

Mi patrona = My master/boss (female)

Chulo/Chulito = Cute guy; little cutie

Guapita = Sassy/foxy/daring/testy lady

Bebito = Little baby (male)

Gruñón = Grumpy man

Querida = Affectionate term for a female, akin to expressing one's want and desire

Me lleva la chingada = Akin to "God dammit" or "Fuck me"

Jodón = Pain in the ass (male)

Refunfuñón = Grumbler

Friolenta = Sensitive to cold (female)

Criticona = Critical woman; hypercritical; nit-picker

Bravita= Tough girl; feisty girl

Atrevido/Atrevida = Daring man/Daring woman

Wow, que mami más dura = Wow, what a fine looking woman

¡Chacho, claro que no! = Jeez, of course not!

Jefa = Boss lady

Hermosa = Beautiful (woman)

Murallas = Fortified stone walls

Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious

Acomodado = Accommodated person; term referring to a person with business or political connections that gets placed in a role or job

Tan exijona = So demanding

Galán = Handsome gent

Cariño = Darling/sweetheart

Suavón = Smooth talker; Smooth guy

Vente, señorito = Come, little sir

Mueca = Making a face; grimace

Canela = Cinnamon

Corazón = Heart; pet name to signify how deeply you love someone

Calles = Streets

Pobrecito = Poor baby; poor baby boy

Coqueta = Tease (female)

Chinchorro = A kiosk or dive bar you go to have a few drinks before moving on to the next establishment

Como modelo = Like a (male) model

Que malo eres = You're so bad

Mi amor = My love

Mi vida = My life; signifies how deeply you love someone and consider them to be your whole world

Guapo descarados = Handsome cads

Eres divina. Tan pinche perfecta = You're divine. So fucking perfect

Dios mío = My god

Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and sharing your feedback. I would be eternally grateful. 

[feminismisstillahatemovement]

The Federal Aviation Administration is actively recruiting workers who suffer “severe intellectual” disabilities, psychiatric problems and other mental and physical conditions under a diversity and inclusion hiring initiative spelled out on the agency’s website. 

“Targeted disabilities are those disabilities that the Federal government, as a matter of policy, has identified for special emphasis in recruitment and hiring,” the FAA’s website states. “They include hearing, vision, missing extremities, partial paralysis, complete paralysis, epilepsy, severe intellectual disability, psychiatric disability and dwarfism.”

The initiative is part of the FAA’s “Diversity and Inclusion” hiring plan, which claims “diversity is integral to achieving FAA’s mission of ensuring safe and efficient travel across our nation and beyond.”

The FAA’s website shows the agency’s guidelines on diversity hiring were last updated on March 23, 2022. 

The FAA, which is overseen by Secretary Pete Buttigieg’s Department of Transportation, is a government agency charged with regulating civil aviation and employs roughly 45,000 people. 

All eyes have been on the FAA and airline industry in recent days, after a plug door on a Boeing 737 Max 9 blew out during an Alaska Airlines flight on Jan. 5.

Dr. Stanley Goldfarb, chairman of Do No Harm – a group of health care professionals, medical students and policymakers working to “protect health care from a radical, divisive, and discriminatory ideology” – told Fox News Digital that similar to the medical field, the aviation industry has an obligation to protect its travelers.

“The aviation industry has a responsibility for traveler safety just as the health care industry has a responsibility for patient safety. These responsibilities outweigh other factors when considering applicants to work in those fields. People with disabilities who can successfully complete the task should never face discrimination,” said Goldfarb, a retired professor and the former associate dean for curriculum at the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine.

“Unfortunately,” Goldfarb said, identity politics is “creating opportunities for so-called oppressed groups by lowering standards for entry into those fields and thereby endangering the safety of those which it’s designed to serve. Some endeavors simply do not lend themselves to identity politics,” he added.

[mariacallous]

Leaked internal documents have exposed the activities of a Russian state-backed legal defence foundation that European intelligence agencies and analysts say is in fact a Kremlin influence operation active in 48 countries across Europe and around the world.

Internal documents from the Fund for Support and Protection of the Rights of Compatriots Living Abroad (Pravfond) indicate that the foundation finances propaganda websites targeted at Europeans, helped pay for the legal defence of the convicted arms trafficker Viktor Bout and the assassin Vadim Krasikov, and has employed a number of former intelligence officers as the directors of its operations in European countries.

The documents show that the group has spent millions of euros to finance propaganda and legal campaigns. Public data also shows that Pravfond’s local partners have received millions in state subsidies from a number of the European states where the foundation operates local branches, raising questions about the use of public funds and national security concerns just days before elections to the European parliament.

More than 40 Pravfond documents, obtained by the Danish public broadcaster DR from a European intelligence source and shared with a consortium of European journalists including the Guardian, show that the organisation has had a number of documented former intelligence agents among its leadership. They include Vladimir Pozdorovkin, who has been identified by European intelligence sources as an agent for the SVR, Russia’s foreign intelligence service, and in public records as Pravfond’s curator for its operations in the Nordic and Baltic countries; and Anatoly Sorokin, who the documents show is a member of the SVR and curates Pravfond’s Middle East, Moldova, and Transnistria division.

The head of the Institute of the Russian Diaspora, which is listed on official documents as Pravfond’s “project implementer”, is Sergey Panteleyev, who has been subject to sanctions in EU countries as a member of a Russian military intelligence unit that specialises in psychological-warfare operations.

Andrei Soldatov, an expert on the Russian intelligence services and co-author of The Compatriots, said Pravfond appeared to be a “classic soft-power effort” and that the ties between intelligence and compatriot organisations were “well documented”. He noted that Andrey Milyutin, the deputy head of the department of operative information of the fifth service of Russia’s security agency, the FSB, was a member of the government’s committee on “compatriots living abroad”, indicating the link between intelligence activity and outreach to the Russian diaspora.

In a 2020 national security report, the Estonian security services called Pravfond a “pseudo legal protection system” that “in reality is an influence operations fund”, and they have said the FSB uses the groups to recruit collaborators abroad, including among supporters of the 2014 annexation of Crimea, many of whom had ties to the group.

Pravfond was founded in 2012 by presidential decree and was backed by the Russian ministry of foreign affairs and the federal agency Rossotrudnichestvo, which administers foreign aid and has been described by the head of Pravfond, Alexander Udaltsov, as a “unique element of Russian soft power”. Udaltsov has been subject to sanctions by the European Union since 2023 for “supporting and implementing actions and policies which undermine and threaten the territorial integrity, sovereignty and independence of Ukraine”.

Pravfond did not reply to questions sent by the Guardian and by its reporting partners in the week before this publication, although some of the recipients of its local grants did.

The documents show that Pravfond sponsored the legal defence of Krasikov, an alleged FSB agent who was given a life sentence for the murder of the former Chechen field commander Zelimkhan Khangoshvili in Berlin’s Tiergarten in 2019. The documents indicate that the lawyer Robert Unger received €60,000 in legal fees paid out by Pravfond’s budget in 2021 as approved by Udaltsov. A European intelligence source said it possessed documents showing that Unger had received a larger sum of money for representing Krasikov in previous sessions, but could not provide documentation.

Asked about the payments, Unger confirmed he had received a request from the journalist consortium but said his mandate for Krasikov ended in 2021 after the life sentence and that because he was “still subject to legal professional confidentiality even after the end of the mandate and have not been released from it, I am unfortunately prevented from answering your questions”.

A Pravfond budget document from 2014 also showed that the organisation had provided significant sums to fund the legal defences of Bout and the convicted drug trafficker Konstantin Yaroshenko, both of whom later returned to Russia as part of prisoner exchanges negotiated between Moscow and Washington.

The documents also indicated that Pravfond had spent hundreds of thousands of euros to maintain several websites that purported to fight against “Russophobia” and promote the “defence of the Russian language” in Europe. It has also funnelled money to a number of fringe publications throughout Europe.

Documents obtained by the consortium showed that Pravfond funded the activities of golos.eu, an online portal that operates out of a post-office box in Brussels and mainly provides a vehicle for commentators to voice criticism of the Ukrainian government, particularly the president, Volodymyr Zelenskiy, and his top aides and military advisers.

Reached for comment by the Guardian, the Golos deputy editor Yuri Andriychenko denied that the site received money from Pravfond or had any links to the Russian state. He suggested that someone else had applied for grant funding using the site’s name, writing: “We are not surprised that someone in Russia is trying to make money on our name, because it is much easier than creating your own project.”

According to the internal documents, Pravfond also funds the activities of Euromore, another online portal that focuses heavily on purported threats to Russians in Europe. Euromore was “designed to take into account the closure of international platforms” such as RT and Sputnik by the EU authorities and “create its own significant alternative”, the documents said. Those sites were largely blacklisted in the west after the Kremlin’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022.

[khabarbharat]

Rayat Shikshan Sanstha Bharti 2024 for 1192 Posts

Rayat Shikshan Sanstha Bharti 2024. Rayat Shikshan Sanstha is an Indian educational organisation founded by Karmveer Bhaurao Patil in 1919. Rayat Shikshan Sanstha Recruitment 2024 (Rayat Shikshan Sanstha Bharti 2024) for 1192 Assistant Professor Posts. http://www.majhinaukri.in/rayat-shikshan-sanstha-bharti जाहिरात क्र.:— Total: 1192 जागा पदाचे नाव & तपशील: पद क्र. पदाचे नाव विद्यापीठ पद…

[vague-humanoid]

Police recruits join the force to help others and fight crime. Research confirms it. But priorities changed when sheriff’s deputies detained Eh Wah in Muskogee County, Oklahoma, and found more than $53,000 in his car.

Law enforcement training kicked in, and the purpose of the traffic stop switched from public safety to raising revenue. The deputies seized the cash and spent the next six hours interrogating Eh Wah, looking for any excuse to justify civil forfeiture, a process that allows the government to take and keep cash, cars and other assets without a criminal conviction.

Oklahoma agencies normally keep quiet about civil forfeiture, which is why the state ranks among the worst in the nation for civil forfeiture transparency. Oklahoma publishes no statewide reports, conducts no regular audits, and tracks only limited metrics.

The silence is strategic. The more people learn about civil forfeiture, the less they like it. But Oklahoma police and prosecutors have voiced opposition in recent weeks to H.R. 1525, the Fifth Amendment Integrity Restoration Act (FAIR), a bill that would reform federal civil forfeiture.

Oklahoma Bureau of Narcotics Deputy Director Brian Surber says the measure would take money from state and local agencies, making it harder to fight drug cartels and other criminal enterprises.

What happened to Eh Wah undercuts this narrative. He was not a drug lord or even a low-level dealer. He was a volunteer manager for a Christian rock band, raising money for Thai orphans and Burmese refugees. Some of the cash belonged to Eh Wah and the band members, following a monthslong tour across several states. The rest came from concert donations and belonged to the orphans and refugees.

Carrying cash is legal. The money in the car was legitimate. And none of it related to a broken taillight — the reason for the 2016 traffic stop on U.S. Route 69. Eh Wah, who neither smokes nor drinks, had nothing illegal in his vehicle. Other than driving with a burned out bulb, he did nothing wrong.

The deputies pounced anyway, putting civil forfeiture in motion.

@chrisdornerfanclub

[beardedmrbean]

German prosecutors have charged 27 suspected far-right extremists with planning a violent coup.

The suspects are accused of membership of the fringe Reichsbürger - or Citizens of the Reich - movement.

"The members of the group strongly rejected state institutions and the free democratic constitutional order," according to the indictment.

They are mostly associates of Heinrich XIII Prince Reuss, a Reichsbürger figurehead from an aristocratic family.

Prosecutors have charged the 27 people with planning to overthrow Germany's democratic political system.

Concrete preparations were made for a coup beginning in summer 2021.

The plan was to seize power by invading the Bundestag, Germany's parliament, with a small group of armed personnel. The assault would be launched after receiving a signal, such as the death of Queen Elizabeth II.

The alleged plotters had already determined how their new state would function after the coup.

Prince Reuss was planned to be head of state. On taking office, he would negotiate a peace treaty with the Allied powers which won World War II. Prince Reuss tried to meet representatives of the Russian government to gain support for the coup, according to prosecutors.

Birgit Malsack-Winkemann, then a member of the Bundestag for the far-right Alternative for Germany party, would have been made justice minister. Prosecutors said she granted access to parliamentary buildings to other co-conspirators.

The would-be rebels are alleged to have attempted to recruit soldiers and police officers.

The group had drawn up lists of enemies. Members were aware that their plans would result in people being killed, according to the indictment.

Members were made to sign a declaration of secrecy. Violators would have been executed for high treason.

The suspected plotters had access to about 380 firearms and 148,000 rounds of ammunition.

Some of the accused were arrested in federal police raids last December.

According to the Office for the Protection of the Constitution, Germany's domestic intelligence agency, there are about 23,000 followers of the Reichsbürger movement in the country.

[kenyatta]

I’m writing this article to address rumors that have circulated in the astronomy and astrophysics community for over a decade and finally burst into the public a few years ago: allegations that James Webb was instrumental in initiating and carrying out efforts to remove “homosexuals” from the federal government in the late 1940s and 1950s when he held a high position in the State Department.

[...]

Rather than exposing a bigot — as Webb was described in two popular articles reporting this story in 2015 — my research suggests that the purveyors of these allegations wrongly accused an innocent man who was, among more well-known achievements, a hero of diversity and inclusion in American government. He worked with Lyndon Johnson and John F. Kennedy to use NASA facilities in America’s southern states to promote racial integration and equal opportunity in employment.

As described here, here, here and here, NASA was widely recognized as the leading federal agency in racial integration prior to the passing of The Civil Rights Act of 1964 and The Voting Rights Act of 1965, and throughout the duration of Webb’s tenure.

Admittedly, matters of discrimination can be more complex upon deep examination than they appear on the surface. Civil Rights hero Lyndon Johnson is a prime example of such complexity. But in the case of Webb purportedly persecuting gays while at State, it’s a case of mistaken identity. Apparently, the actions of his Department of State colleagues, John E. Puerifoy and Carlisle H. Humelsine, have been misattributed to him. [...]

According to director Josh Howard’s documentary The Lavender Scare, based on a book of the same name by David Johnson, several of the people outed and removed from federal service committed suicide and ultimately, more than 10,000 people were removed from their jobs across the federal government. The Lavender Scare was an injustice of immense proportion.

Wrongly convicting one innocent person is also an immense injustice. The layers of failure that led to this misattribution of appalling behavior to James Webb, which has persisted for a decade and a half, are themselves appalling. This entire episode represents an example of shoddy investigative rigor from both scientific scholars and journalists. They all should have known better and they all should have done better.

Toward Stonewall did not properly cite the sources for the Senate testimony that ignited the Lavender Scare and was loose with language, thus facilitating the Wikipedia misattribution to Webb — in conflict with the Wikipedia pages on Peurifoy and The Lavender Scare, which both explicitly name Peurifoy’s 1950 testimony as the prime initiation event.

The two authors who wrote the articles on forbes.com and thestranger.com did not apply proper journalistic rigor. They accepted the rumors without corroboration from authoritative sources — and worse, piled on.

The author of the forbes.com article references a professional astrophysicist as his original source for learning of the allegations against Webb. This scientist propagated unsubstantiated false information as if it were true without performing proper scientific rigor to investigate its veracity.

The community of astronomers and astrophysicists in the online social media group who blindly accepted the allegations also piled on and were ready to confront NASA although they did not apply proper rigor.

Personally, I find Webb’s life story quite compelling. From his work at the Department of State helping to define America’s Cold War strategies — including recruiting a physicist to assist with assembling a team of scientists to begin implementing a plan of psychological warfare — to his efforts to implement equal opportunity hiring at NASA facilities in America’s south, to his establishment of NASA infrastructure and strategy in the 1960s.

Webb also encountered many obstacles ranging from political rivalries within State that led to his departure due to health concerns, the 1967 loss of the Apollo 1 crew to fire, and ultimately his resignation from NASA for political reasons. Given the many ups and downs, Webb’s career is a great American story of political intrigue, triumph and disaster, fit for the big screen that I hope the public may come to appreciate.

But most of all, I hope that members of astronomy’s LGBTQI+ community will now be freed of any burdens that may have borne from encountering the misinformation on Webb.

As a Black scientist from the Deep South who’s had to navigate the shoals of a scientific establishment where I’ve not always felt welcome, I imagine how I would feel if I faced the equivalent — a flagship national observatory named after someone who was accused of being a staunch racist and national enforcer of racial segregation. Thankfully, Webb was not the bigoted homophobe who led State Department witch hunts as rumored.

this is some good, well documented research.

[the-darkness-does-not-bargain]

*sounds of a massive stampede* wn superhero au???? *blurry eyes emoji* beatrice lightning powers, ava frankenstein esque creature, lilith fire & claws, mary & camilla as batman, ga types, and shannon as superman type???? omfg all of this sounds so damn cool, i almost wanna put my fist through a wall but in like the best & most excited of ways (<- might just be a little obsessed w comics and superheroes)

pls do elaborate all about it, and on how ava does gain her powers 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Bestie, you're really to blame for all of this because you put the seed in my head, so here we go.

What I'm imagining is a scenario where superheroes have been around long enough to receive some amount of regulation. Superhero teams largely act independently but are beholden to government bodies and have to abide by certain special laws. I'm picturing Supreme Court cases and federal bills outlining hero jurisdictions, how heroes are allowed to investigate crimes, and how the court system handles superhero activity (is evidence found by a superhero admissible? Do heroes have to respect Miranda rights? etc. etc. Including variations based on country of origin, so Spain's laws will be different from America's etc. etc.).

People who have superpowers have to register themselves with their local hero agency and either join up or sign a binding agreement not to use their powers. Violators are considered criminals and the local agency and hero team are responsible for apprehending them. Heroes can and often do use secret identities, and the law has a long list of rules for what they can and can't do out of costume, but some choose to hero full-time and have their living expenses covered by their local agency.

So you have your generic comic book city (I guess it could be Malaga or Madrid but idc) and the local hero team is the OCS, one of the most well-known. They've been around since the first generation of heroes revealed themselves to the public, and are currently led by Suzanne, a hero who retired after an ~incident~ 12 years prior 👀 and now oversees the current team, which includes all of our girls.

Ava is still in St. Michael's and quadriplegic after she and her mom were caught in the crossfire of a hero-villain fight 👀👀 and became collateral damage. Her mom died but she was found alive. There was and is an active media initiative to downplay the damage caused by superhero activity, and the hospital was given financial incentives to keep this seven-year-old alive at any cost so they could claim as few civilian casualties as possible. Horrible, disgraceful, and Ava rightfully holds some resentment towards superheroes even though she is glad to be alive.

The OCS girls are as follows:

Shannon (Star Girl) is a Superman-esque alien who arrived on earth and quickly became the most famous hero worldwide for her incredible abilities. Her powers include: flight, super strength, x-ray vision, ocular beam projection (laser eyes), and invulnerability to everything except divinium. Suzanne recruited her almost immediately after she revealed herself and she quickly became the face of the OCS. She helped recruit all of the other girls into the team, and she led most of their missions prior to her death (sorry, yeah, Shannon doesn't get to live in this one, not unless you do it like real comic books).

Mary (she has a hero name built in lmao, Shotgun Mary): is a human without any specific powers apart from being a badass with guns. Unlike canon, she can actually fight well hand-to-hand, but she's a master at all things firearms and explosives. She gives very mild Punisher vibes but it's mostly aesthetic. She was a vigilante who met Shannon by chance while taking down some crime syndicate or other, and Shannon convinced her to join up with the heroes. She often seems out of place among the OCS but she is invaluable to the team.

Beatrice (Maelstrom): is a human with control over lightning and electricity in general. She got these powers in an accident where a bunch of electricity was channeled through an alien space rock (maybe divinium) and she touched it. She was already on the outs with her family by this time, who basically told her to go die being a hero to elevate their family name. She was really angry and reckless when she joined the OCS, but Shannon and the others helped her overcome that. Now, she's a hero in good standing and loved by the public.

Lilith (Morningstar): a hybrid of human and uhhhhhhhhhh (?????) who controls fire and can grow claws (and wings eventually). She doesn't really know how or why she got her powers, only that they manifested suddenly in her teens and her parents also coerced her into becoming a hero. Suzanne took her in and trained her for several years before letting her officially join the team, so she still feels a lot of pressure to be the best and a leader, just not because of a family legacy.

Camila (Gambit): a human like Mary who is just more badass than normal. She's a prodigy at archery as well as a technical genius and hacker. Suzanne finds her trying to hack into the OCS computer system and immediately hires her. She's the newest member of the team and doesn't go out in the field often because she's still learning to fight, but her tech skills are often mission-critical.

So what happened to Shannon? This is where Ava comes in, along with the two scenarios where she gets her powers. Scenario 1: Frankenstein Classic. Shannon disappears on a solo mission to investigate some villain activity in the city, and winds up getting killed by Vincent/Adriel. They take her body to some secret lab along with Ava, who they might have bought from St. Michael's on the DL in exchange for more funding. Disgusting, and then it gets worse. They want to create a superhuman they can control for villainous purposes, and they do it by cutting off parts of Shannon's body and attaching them to Ava. We're talking limbs, guts, spine, one of her eyes, everything. Part of Shannon's alien biology is the ability to assimilate with foreign tissue as a survival tactic, so her bits just sort naturally graft themselves on, leaving only lines of scar tissue where the two ends meet. A consequence of this is Ava getting Shannon's powers to some extent.

Scenario 2: Frankenstein John Carpenter Edition. The OCS goes up against Adriel in a fight, and Ava (for whatever reason) gets caught in the crossfire again and dies. Shannon dies at the same time however, probably from a divinium bomb, and her body lands on Ava's. Alien biology comes back but Even Worse, and Shannon's blood (and probably CSF and other fluids too) basically becomes its own entity, oozing out of her corpse to occupy the closest organic mass and mount a full hostile takeover. So Ava comes back to life as her body is forcibly converted from human to alien.

No matter what scenario you pick, it's bad for her, because she either has to fight her way out of a mad scientist's lab using limbs that aren't hers, or she wakes up alone in the aftermath of the battle with no idea what's going on. To say nothing of the OCS being devastated by Shannon's death. Big Oof imagining them in scenario 1 finding Shannon's butchered body missing so many pieces. And when they find out later where those pieces are? It's bad, it's really bad.

They have to bring Ava in, which is fucked because Shannon was the world's most famous hero for a reason and now all of her power is in the hands of a scared 19-year-old who doesn't trust superheroes. Just finding her is a pain in the ass, and then they have to get close enough to incapacitate her. It probably winds up being Bea's job, which creates some excellent tension and mistrust for them to work through later.

That's what I've got so far in my slow contemplation!

[fluentmoviequoter]

to being ghosts.

Chapter 1 - Ordinary Origins

Chapter Warnings: angst, misogynistic/sexist comments towards fem!reader, mentions of death and executions, incorrect depictions of hacking, a lot of world-building and several OCs are introduced. 7.5k+ words.

A siren blaring in the distance wakens you long before you’d prefer. Holding your eyes closed, you hope you can fall back asleep and dream of the old world. Such hope grows weaker every day, unable to keep your mind from the new horrors plaguing the world... your world.

“The New World Charter has assigned a president-elect,” a robotic voice announces outside.

Covering your head with your pillow, you try to drown out the reminders that life will never be the same, not after the death of Eli Ever and the subsequent dissolution of democracies and dictatorships alike.

With a sad sigh, you stand from your bed in your government-assigned apartment, dressing in your uniform and wondering how things went so terribly so quickly.

✯✯✯✯✯

Miles away from you, Victor Vale leads Mitch Turner and Sydney Clarke into an abandoned house on the outskirts of what used to be the overpopulated city of San Francisco. Today, it’s a ghost town, and Victor Vale (along with thousands of other EOs) is using these places as a refuge.

“How many countries are in the New World now?” Victor asks, watching Mitch pick up an outdated newspaper.

“As of two months ago, nearly half of the UN, 85,” he answers.

“Is that bad?” Sydney asks quietly, holding Dol closer as she awaits an answer.

“It may be,” Mitch answers honestly. “As long as they don’t have a unified leader, we’re better off.”

“And when they do?”

Victor looks out the dirt-stained window as he says, “We’ll know.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into the New World Agency Headquarters, or NWA, you look at each passing agent and wonder what they did to earn their place. From open-minded United States federal recruits to Russian KGB leaders, every person wearing an NWA badge is considered qualified and necessary to the long-term mission. You, however, don’t know what the mission is, and though you feel like a ghost in these halls, the moment you decide whether or not you agree with it solidifies your future.

“Morning, agents,” NWA Director Smoak calls.

“Director,” everyone answers in sync.

“You have been called here because of your exemplary records.” He looks around the room as if analyzing each agent, including you. “Consider yourselves lucky to be the first group of recruits for NWA’s new task force, dedicated to the location and execution of EOs.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You didn’t choose to join the NWA; very few did, but you certainly didn’t agree to kill innocent people.

“We’ll be splitting you into teams. Agents Samuelson, Waller, and Daniels, stay here. The rest of you will find your lead agents outside. Head out and do good, bring the new world into the light!”

Following your partner, whom you have only heard referred to as Daniels, you have innumerable questions you want to ask. The walk to the director isn’t far, but it feels like miles as your stomach churns.

“You’re welcome,” Agent Daniels says, turning his head toward you.

“For what?” His eyes meet yours, and you quickly correct, “Sorry. Thank you, but for what, sir?”

“Getting you assigned to the best task force in the agency.”

You stop, unable to walk upon learning that your partner, the man who has been at your side since training ended three months ago, is willing to kill EOs just because they’re different. Not only that, but he thinks the assignment is something worthy of gratitude. A former U.S. Army sniper, Daniels’ kill count consists of a higher number than most peoples’ IQs.

“Daniels, I want you and your partner out by nightfall. You know your first mission, and upon its completion, you will receive the next. Prove your worth and another ticket may be in your future,” Smoak says, ignoring you as he speaks to your supervising agent.

Once upon a time, you dreamed of being a federal agent, but now that title is a nightmare come to life around you.

“Where are we going, sir?” you ask Daniels.

“Some town called Merit,” he answers, leading you through the back hallway of the NWA building.

“Merit? Where Eli Ever was arrested?”

“Maybe. I don’t tend to keep up with monsters like those people.”

“Those people?”

“EOs. We’ve got a long flight, so maybe pace your questions,” he snaps.

Nodding, you ask yourself how someone can have so little empathy for EOs, simply assuming they’re all like Ever. The Gulfstream plane awaiting you could get hundreds of EOs to safety, you think, before realizing that your mind and your mission are nowhere near aligned.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Problem,” Mitch calls.

Victor turns away from the window, walking to Mitch’s side.

“They have a leader. President-Elect Smoak, also rumored to be leading the New World Agency, the combination of all the government and law enforcement agencies of participating countries.”

“Number?”

Mitch doesn’t answer, turning around to face Victor as he tilts his head to the side.

“All of them?” Victor clarifies.

“Which means the new task force, Task O, has plenty of people to back it up.”

“We have to move.”

“Why?”

“Call it a hunch, a ghost giving me a clue, I don’t know, but we do. So, let’s go!” Victor turns away as he calms to say, “Sydney, time to go.”

“What are we telling her?”

“Not a word more than we have to.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What is your issue?” Daniels asks.

You look up from the picture in the file, glancing at the clouds below. Even the sky seems sad these days.

“He looks like a kid,” you answer, shrugging. “Just not sure how you keep it so separated, sir.”

“He’s not a kid. Not even an ordinary human, not anymore. That- that change makes them different, and someone needs to do something about it.”

After the news shifted to the existence and creation of EOs, particularly Eli Cardale, you’d scoured the internet to find what made them so special. A rough draft of his work from Lockland University was produced by your effort: a simple, straightforward explanation with a bit too much religious symbolism.

“There was a time not long ago when being ordinary was considered a bad thing,” you hum.

“Not at the cost of our souls, our freedom, and the consistency of human nature.”

Human nature has never been consistent, you want to say. Instead, you nod and look back to the file. Daniels continues watching you, a suspicious narrowing of his eyes the only sign that he is experiencing any emotion.

“Do you have a problem with the mission? Because there’s a nice place for NWA agents who decide they don’t agree with our ideals,” Daniels says. “I hear most people never want to return to their old homes after visiting.”

“As nice as that sounds, sir, I’m fine. Just tired, I think.”

“Then get some sleep. We have an ordinary world to protect.”

Reading the top line of the file one last time, you close it and set it aside, wishing you felt safe enough to sleep. Dreams of a different world are the only relief you’ve found, but even that can only do so much.

✯✯✯✯✯

Mitch’s fingers fly across the keyboard, a few clicks of the trackpad interrupting his consistent typing. He knows better than to hack the New World Charter computers. If he can get into the United States government’s records, he may be able to find a thread worthy of tugging.

The screen goes black before an out-of-use desktop loads. Smirking at his success, Mitch navigates to the most recent records. It takes a few minutes, but he finds evidence of a conversation with someone named Smoak. He assumes it is the same Smoak now running the entire world, and the few ideas expressed in the months-old exchange concern him.

Noticing the presence of another user in the system, Mitch freezes his screen, disappearing into the shadows of the servers.

‘hey,’ someone types, ‘we’ve met before. they’re killing EOs, just thought you should know.’

The text box disappears before a small file opens: a single page titled “Task O” lists three teams, one under Smoak’s leadership and the team members. As concerning as it should be, Mitch’s attention is caught on the task motto: “For an ordinary world, no matter the cost.”

He knows he should tell Victor, but something makes him pause. Saving the file to his own computer, Mitch erases any sign of himself and his unknown partner before closing the laptop. Smoak has three teams under his direction: Samuelson, Waller, and Daniels, plus their partners. Seven people answering to one leader, who wants EOs dead as far as Mitch can tell, does not seem like a good thing. Though he knows Smoak’s name, one other name stays on his mind after closing the computer.

✯✯✯✯✯

When the plane lands, Daniels offers to split up and cover more ground, and you immediately agree. If you can find the young EO before Daniels, maybe you can help somehow. Daniels will eliminate him without a word or thought, but there has to be another way.

After a few minutes, you realize that Daniels is following you. He’s keeping his distance, but you must lose him and convince him to trust you for a few minutes before continuing.

“When you find him, radio immediately,” Daniels says in your earpiece.

“Yes, sir.”

After walking around the same city block twice, letting yourself look incompetent, Daniels sighs and breaks away. Picking up where you left off, you navigate the darkest alleys alone. Though you should probably be concerned for your safety, the EOs need your concern and protection more than you do. Daniels has already threatened to make you disappear, but your fate is still in your hands.

“Excuse me,” you call. The man turns around, his eyes wide and wild as he does. “I’m here to help you but I need you to trust me. Someone is trying to hurt you.”

“This is about that other guy that got killed in Miami, ain’t it?” he asks. “All the EOs are talkin’ about it. Like the police think we’re all bad because that Eli guy killed someone. EON was bad enough, but we didn’t think it would get worse after they went away.”

You raise your hand as you attempt to calm him and ease his nerves. “I know. When EON went away, I hoped it would get better for you guys, but there are always going to be people who are scared of new things, different things.”

“Then what’s the point of fighting?” he whispers.

“Because if you don’t, you’re proving them right. Let me help you, and maybe someday, you and the other EOs that I help will be able to make a difference and show the people that they don’t need to be afraid of you.”

Your shirt rides up slightly, exposing your NWA badge. He sees it, staring at it as he takes a step back.

“Hey, hey, look at me. They want me to do something that I’m not going to do, do you understand that? I wear the badge because I have to, but it doesn’t control me. They don’t control me, and you don’t have to let them control you either,” you explain.

He stops, nodding slowly. “What do you want me to do?”

“There’s a little town about ten miles from here. It used to be-“

“The train depot, yeah, I know it,” he interrupts.

“Go that way and wait for me. If I’m not there by sunset to give you more instructions, leave before dark and get to the depot.”

“Why? Why help us?”

“Because what they’re doing is wrong. You deserve a chance.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

You finally smile, and he mirrors it as you say, “Then I’ll change my mind.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor’s pale eyes are on Mitch. He fights the urge to squirm at his undivided attention.

“Can I help you?” Mitch asks finally.

“You tell me.”

Mitch glances over at Sydney before saying, “No.”

“Are we leaving again soon? Because I’m really tired,” Sydney asks, lying on the dilapidated couch with Dol under her arm.

“Not for a while. That’s the plan for now, at least, so get some rest,” Victor answers, demanding yet concerned.

“Still can’t help,” Mitch mutters as he walks by Victor.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Suspect down,” you radio, looking around the scene you’ve set up.

Standing on the rooftop, you’re impressed by the view. As the sun sets, mirroring a bloody smear across the sky, you imagine this is how Frodo felt on his journey to Mordor, just with more people to talk to. Below you, you’ve arranged pallets and red paint to look like someone fell off the roof. Your plan isn’t great, and it’s entirely dependent on Daniels believing it from the roof, but it’s all you can do for now. Either way, you gained a few more hours for the target to get to safety.

“I told you to radio when you found him, not after you took him out,” Daniels chides roughly behind you.

“I was going to, but he panicked and fell back when he saw the badge, sir,” you answer, keeping your eyes on the ground below.

Daniels walks to your side, surveying the damage in the alley below. His eyes darken momentarily before he nods.

“Back with the trash where he belongs,” he mutters. “I’ll call Smoak and get our next assignment. Meet you at the plane.”

As he turns around, you ask, “Should we do something with the body?”

“Leave it there. It’ll serve as a warning.”

Closing your eyes, you bite back your anger before you get in trouble. The new government doesn’t care about these people; they only notice EOs because they are afraid. Someone has to show them that EOs aren’t monsters to be feared, though you’re not sure if they’re allies. Regardless, you can’t prove anything without help, so you need to save enough of them to start a revolution.

Taking a deep breath, you hope the future is heading north.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your phone rings as you near the plane. Raising a hand to Daniels, you stop and answer it.

“Hello,” you greet.

“Hey. It’s Barton, do you have a minute?” your classmate from the police academy asks.

“Of course. Where are you these days?”

“NWA analytics. They- they want me to do something that I don’t agree with, and I feel stuck. If I don’t do it, something terrible will happen to me, right?”

“Barton, don’t,” you whisper harshly. “Do not do something stupid.”

“I’m not running.”

“Don’t do something else, then.”

“Too late,” he mutters. “But they won’t know about you.”

You flinch and drop your phone away when a gunshot echoes through the speaker. Ending the call, you breathe heavily as you wonder what he did. His promise that they won’t know about you makes you confident that whatever it is will make an impact. 

Leveling your expression, you walk to the plane and stand beside Daniels. He types quickly, his complete focus on his phone.

“Everything okay, sir?” you ask quietly.

“No,” he answers. “New World Charter is- our leaders are in trouble.”

“How so?”

“Some- some complete idiot at NWA released a list of names.”

“Oh.”

Daniels looks up suddenly, his eyes dark and angry as he glares at you. “’Oh’? That’s all you have to say. Do you know what this means, agent? Every single person working with the New World Charter’s identity, their pictures, addresses, it’s all out there for anyone to see.”

“Well, they’re working for good, so no one should have a problem or try to do anything. Right, sir?” you ask, hoping everyone can see their true intentions and someone decides to do something about it.

“You really have no clue how governments work, do you? No matter how good they are, there will be people who try to hurt them.”

You press your lips together and nod. Daniels shakes his head, looking back at his phone when it buzzes again.

“Great,” he mumbles. “Now NWA.”

“What about it, sir?”

“List of names,” he grumbles.

“Our leaders?”

His eyes scan the screen, scrolling quickly. He releases a small sigh before putting his phone in his pocket.

“Good news?” you pry.

“My name isn’t on the list. Well, it is, but just my last name; listed as your superior.”

“Mine?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s all there. Full name, picture, address, contact information,” he lists off before smiling at you. “Better prove your worth or no one will care what you go home to.”

Daniels turns and boards the plane, yelling for you to follow. You swallow, hoping that having your name and picture made public won’t ruin your chances of helping the next EO.

✯✯✯✯✯

Mitch shakes his head, wondering how a police recruit was assigned to one of the most dangerous task forces in the New World. When he hears Victor approaching, he closes the window and moves away from his laptop.

“It’s getting worse,” he tells Victor.

“Shocking,” Victor mumbles sarcastically.

“Vic, we need to do something other than run. Surely there has to be another option.”

“Like what? Making a stand with a guy who can control pain, a hacker, and a kid who can raise the dead? We have no chance alone, Mitch.”

“Then why are you so opposed to help?”

“Because we aren’t normal people, Mitch. We have no home, no help, and no chance of being noticed without dire consequences. We’re ghosts.”

“You defeated Eli, and then EON. Why is this different?”

“Because this is EON multiplied by a million. And, technically, I didn’t defeat Eli, I just got him out of the way long enough to keep going.”

“If we’re ghosts,” Mitch says slowly, “then there’s still a chance.”

“Three versus the world government is not a fair fight, and one I refuse to pull you or Sydney into.”

“What if we had more help? A Good Samaritan willing to gather EO troops?”

Victor rolls his eyes. “Even if that was a possibility, it will never work. NWA doesn’t recruit Good Samaritans, or at least trains it out of them.”

Mitch doesn’t respond, which leads Victor to return to his side. “You know something.”

“I know lots of things.”

“Mitch,” Victor warns.

“I do, but it’s not important yet. Not pertinent, even.”

“Then tell me.”

“No. If I’m wrong, we don’t need that kind of negative impact.”

“Mitch, if it doesn’t matter, why do you keep bringing it up?” Victor demands.

“Because something is changing!” Mitch replies, raising his voice as he stands. “Can’t you tell that?”

“I can,” Sydney says quietly, standing in the doorway behind them. “There’s more, more life or something. It’s not quite as bad as it was.”

“That doesn’t mean there’s a powerful savior that makes this all go away; we are still in danger of being killed,” Victor argues. “I know it’s not what we want to admit, but it’s the truth – this ends with death for us. Especially if we rush into this fight without stopping to think for a minute. This isn’t beating Eli, not revenge, it is life or death.”

“Not just for us,” Mitch interjects. “Task O, as in O for ordinary, is killing EOs. But I think an agent, or someone else, is helping them. That’s why Sydney can sense more life than there ‘should’ be.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that because of one good NWA agent, there’s a bunch of ghosts?”

“Basically.”

Victor rakes his fingers through his pale hair as he thinks.

“You said it would take more than three ghosts,” Mitch reminds him gently. “If we can find a whole race of ghosts? EO ghosts, at that, and the NWA, the New World Charter doesn’t stand a chance.”

“What else are you keeping from me?” Victor asks.

“Chocolate milk,” Sydney whispers, a smile appearing when Mitch laughs. Each day her smile becomes a little rarer. That alone makes Victor want to fight, even though he’ll never admit it.

“A name,” Mitch answers. “And I’m still going to hold onto it. Until I’m sure.”

“You really think this will work?”

“I do. But not without you on board and willing to trust me.”

“I trust you, Mitch, I do. It’s them I don’t trust.”

“Give it some time. And we need to stay here.”

“It’s been days already; someone will be able to find us if they look hard enough.”

“Exactly,” Mitch says with a smile.

✯✯✯✯✯

You return to NWA Headquarters before receiving your next target. Every agent is recalled upon Barton’s sudden betrayal and execution. Sitting at the back of the crowded room, you hope more EOs have caught word of the ambush and found a safe hiding place. Finding them will be difficult, but the future lies in the hands of the superpowered people your neighbors are hunting.

Your mission, however, is to find the unfindable and get them to a safe place before gathering them for a revolution. Your future, and theirs, of course, has far too many variables. But, you will give everything you have, including your life, to bring peace and remind ordinary people that ExtraOrdinaries aren’t so different.

“Why can’t we just train them?” someone asks. “If EOs are dangerous now, then we can show them another way. Maybe they’re just as lost and surprised as we are. Thousands of experts are at your disposal, able to teach EOs how their powers work and maybe even gain an ally.”

You agree entirely, wishing you had the strength to stand up and voice your opinion, too. When the agent is cut off in the middle of a sentence, you’re glad you waited. NWA is not fond of its agents speaking out of turn, especially when what they say is morally right.

“Any other comments?” Smoak asks, practically daring someone else to speak. “Well then, let’s get this meeting underway.”

“Wait! My partner never showed up and I’m worried,” an agent explains, standing as they speak.

“Yes,” Smoak says, glancing at the paper before him. “Your partner has decided to take a less active role in our Canada region.”

Sighing, you wish you could comfort the agent. ‘The Canada region’ is the codeword NWA officials use for the same place Daniels threatened to send you. It’s a place for exiled and disgraced agents who are never heard from or seen again. You’re sure it’s a type of black site, not simply a prison compound, so you feel empathetic towards the exiled and their partner.

“Focus,” Daniels whispers, tapping you with his elbow. “We’re next.”

“Task O has made excellent progress in the early stages of the program. There is much work to be done ahead of us, and as the days progress, we will add manpower and more teams to this task force. We are aware of the security breach, and it has been dealt with internally, but the information is still out there for the public to view. Our analysis and cyber teams are working to scrub as much of this from global internet servers as possible, but we will be providing temporary housing and other aid as needed. NWA is not just an agency, we are here for you, so do not hesitate to reach out as needed.”

You shake your head, wondering how long they’ll be able to keep up the lies that they’re doing good and here for the people. The idea that Smoak cares about the agents who were exposed is laughable; your memory of hearing Barton’s execution keeps you from exposing your hand too early.

“One team, however, has made a big impact on us here at NWA. Supervising Agent Daniels and his team were the first to complete their initial mission.”

Supervising Agent Daniels and his team… as far as Daniels knows, you completed the mission. Yet, in typical government fashion, the man with seniority gets the credit. Not that you care; you are trying to stay below the radar and make yourself invisible as often as possible. Although, if this were your choice career, you’d be indignant.

“They have both our gratitude and admiration for such effectiveness in the field. For that reason, they will be receiving two assignments moving forward.”

There’s a small round of applause, and Director Smoak nods at Daniels before moving on to the next item on the docket.

“Port operations have resumed in major cities such as Los Angeles, Singapore, and Colón…”

You tune him out, your mind split between wondering what that nod was about and planning where you can send every EO to wait. Waiting will undoubtedly be the worst part of taking the world back from the dictators and murderers currently in charge, so a slow and steady approach is essential.

“You are dismissed,” Smoak nearly yells, pulling you from your planning.

“He wants to meet us about our new targets before we leave again,” Daniels fills you in, leaving you as he walks to the crowd of male leaders at the front of the room.

“Don’t know how you have the patience to work with a woman,” one of them jokes.

Daniels looks at you before reluctantly admitting, “She was vital to our success.”

It’s not an acknowledgment of the truth or your worth, but you play your role and smile at the men, unwilling to get angry or prove them right in any way. You will give Daniels all the praise and credit he wants to keep this assignment. One day, one person may know what you did or tried to do, and that is all you can ask for.

“Daniels,” Director Smoak greets, clapping his back. “You are our best, that’s for sure. Which is why I’m giving you and your partner here a new target. And I’m giving you our current most wanted EO. I don’t expect him to be easy to find, so I want you to blow through these other monsters while you’re hunting him. Shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Smoak glances toward you, and you nod, giving him a respectful smile.

“I like this one. You work well together.”

“We do,” Daniels agrees. “And that’s certainly not a problem. We’ll keep knocking them down while we make our way to the top.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear. Meet me in my office and we’ll discuss our most wanted.”

As you walk through the private hallways, off limits to agents such as yourself, you cross your fingers that you can find a well-known EO and get him on board with your plan. Another name, another pair of hands, anything will help. As long as they’re alright with being invisible.

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor drags a marker across a page, the odd domesticity of the situation making him anxious. Sydney returns from a quick walk with Dol, smiling again as she falls onto the couch beside Victor. Mitch is reading something on his computer, not unaware of how they’re all acting like they’re at home. He chuckles at the thought of the three of them sharing a home forever, and Sydney immediately asks what’s so funny.

“Nothing, just picturing how terrible Victor would be as a permanent roommate,” he answers.

Sydney joins his laughter as Victor pauses his editing.

“I wouldn’t be that bad,” he argues.

“Your last roommate is dead,” Sydney points out.

“Who killed him?” Victor challenges.

“Calm down,” Mitch says, feeling more like an overworked dad than ever. “And don’t get too comfortable, this isn’t the new normal, just a- just a break.”

“So, we’re setting a trap, luring someone into finding us?” Sydney clarifies, welcoming Dol onto the couch between her and Victor.

“More or less, yes.”

“Seems like more of a trap for us. Like a mouse sitting in a cage to catch a cat.”

Victor looks over at her, his brows raised as he nods. “Didn’t know you could make sense like that.”

“Says the cryptic old guy.”

Mitch sighs, and Victor returns his attention to the book in his lap, hiding how pleased he is to see Sydney acting like herself again.

“What happens after?” Sydney asks. “We get killed?”

“No,” Mitch and Victor answer together.

“I don’t know for sure what happens, Syd. This isn’t the same world we started in, and I can’t guarantee much past your safety, but I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Or yourself,” Sydney demands, not a question but a statement.

 Victor nods, aware that he’s lying, and that Sydney knows it too.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Like many of our smaller units, we have a most wanted list for EOs,” Director Smoak explains as you and Daniels sit across from him. “Currently, there are ten EOs worthy of special attention. We don’t have pictures for several of them, but we have names and ideas of what their powers are. These people are dangerous, not just criminals to slap handcuffs on. There’s no training to prepare you for this mission, but you’ve proven yourselves trustworthy and competent.”

“Thank you, sir, it’s our honor to take this on,” Daniels responds.

Smoak slides two file folders across the desk before folding his hands in front of his chest. You open yours as Daniels takes his.

“Our most wanted.”

“Victor Vale,” you read. “What makes him so important, sir?”

“He is responsible for the death of Eli Ever, and the fall of EON. Not immortal or invincible, but he is hard to injure and harder to capture. The few agents who have had contact with him, or something close to it, have experienced excruciating pain and only one fully recovered.”

“His power is an ability to control pain,” Daniels deduces.

“Sorry, sir, but what do you mean by ‘something close to’ contact with him?” you interject.

“You don’t have to see him, even be all that close to him to be affected,” Smoak answers. “If he can see you, he can kill you.”

Nodding, you can’t help but imagine him dropping Daniels and removing perhaps your biggest obstacle. It is no wonder someone so powerful has maintained his freedom for so long.

“Two known associates? That’s a bit strange for EOs,” Daniels adds.

“It is. They tend to move and work alone, but this one has been seen with another man as well as a young girl,” Smoak reads.

“A young girl? Why?”

“We have reason to believe she is one of the EOs Eli Ever was searching for. There’s something special about this one, but we can’t be sure what without getting close. With Victor Vale at her side, that’s nearly impossible.”

“Is she considered dangerous?” you ask.

“Everyone with any association to Victor Vale is considered highly dangerous, especially if they are a suspected EO, as the girl is. While you hunt them, do not let your guard down for even a moment. Dangerous fights are unavoidable, but your safety is a possibility as long as you work together and use caution and logic.”

“You can count on us,” Daniels says.

You nod your agreement, your mind too caught on Smoak’s phrasing to reply. He considers this a hunt, not a search for a criminal. It fits, though, more like a hunt for sport as you track someone with the only intention of killing them. Or that’s what you would do if you weren’t a traitor.

“One more thing,” Smoak says, looking at you for once. “We have plenty of evidence that Eli was able to manipulate people very easily, especially women. Victor may have similar charm, but you need to keep your wits and the mission in mind, okay?”

You blink rapidly at his blatant sexism. “Yes, sir. I know that any interaction with Vale is simply to eliminate him.”

Smoak nods, dismissing you before speaking to Daniels. He doesn’t wait until the door closes and you hear, “Keep an eye on her, she’s good, but empathy has no place in this.”

You agree entirely as you desperately seek a way out of this fight, to finish it, and move on into a world where empathy is once again common and accepted.

✯✯✯✯✯

With the file nearly memorized, you stare at the ‘No Image on File’ block where Victor Vale’s picture should be. When you imagine meeting him, you see three possibilities: he reluctantly trusts you to join your treacherous plan, he doesn’t trust you and ignores you as he leaves, or he recognizes you as an NWA agent and kills you without question. Any choice has pros and cons, including the third, which removes you from the fight but reveals Victor’s path. If, miraculously, Victor chooses the first option, the New World Charter won’t know what hit them.

“What are you thinking about? If you’re worried about the charm statement, just force yourself to remember his known body count is nearing a hundred,” Daniels offers.

“No, sir, I wasn’t thinking about that. I was just wondering how he got his powers; pain can be an emotional experience sometimes, so it’s just an interesting idea.”

Daniels hums before arguing, “It doesn’t matter. He’ll be dead by the time we get to him anyway, so his second death will make a much bigger impact.”

You run your finger under the line about the young girl. If she’s present, you know you will do anything to keep her safe. After your own childhood and working with troubled youth early in your career, you have a soft spot for kids.

“We’re going after a water bender first,” Daniels says. “We’ve got his location and I’m exhausted, so I’m going to sleep until we land. Feel free to get started on tracking our ticket.”

The NWA equivalent of a golden ticket, or an assigning of your choice, a ticket is only achievable by apprehending or eliminating a top-tier EO or criminal. Since NWA was founded several months ago, only two tickets have been given: one for catching a serial killer and another for apprehending the last surviving captive of EON. 

Uninterested in a ticket, you begin researching, hoping to find something that will help you before it helps Daniels. Your hands hover over the keyboard as you wonder where to start. The list of names that Barton leaked, you realize, wasn’t just a moral decision but a head start. Finding his already deleted account, you begin working backward until you find the original posting. With each step, each download and movement of the document, you get a bit more discouraged.

One record, however, was nearly wiped: a download from a U.S. government database. You track it, surprised to find a 30-second interaction between users, just sharing the file and sending a now scrubbed-away message. Assuming it’s somehow related to Victor, you track it as far as possible. There’s no IP address or location, but you get a region: somewhere outside San Francisco with no secure internet. Whoever hacked the database was very good, so you must work quickly and effectively before they realize someone is on their computer.

It's a long shot, but you manipulate the document and post it in a private forum, dropping a link to the two computers you can find. The first one bounces back, but the second seems to deliver. And now you have to wait.

✯✯✯✯✯

“EO down,” Daniels alerts.

You stop in the alley, pressing your hand against the brick wall as you lean forward. Your stomach flips with anxiety and sadness. 

“Copy,” you radio.

A rogue tear breaks past your waterline. Wiping it away quickly, you kick a box before you, wondering how you failed to find this one.

Daniels says your last name, his voice eerily even.

 “Find anything else? This guy implied there was another one around here.”

“His accomplice, Rock?”

“Presumably. All we know about Rock is he has geo-powers. Just keep an eye out, we’ll keep patrolling for a bit.”

“Copy that, sir. I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

Turning, you decide to go back the way you came. As you near the sight of the execution, the ground rumbles beneath you. You stow your badge in your back pocket, out of sight.

“Rock?” you ask quietly, introducing yourself. “I want to help. I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Help? No one can help. You should let him take me, too.”

“I’m not going to do that, Rock. Can you come out and talk to me? There’s still hope.”

“No, there’s not. You let me walk today, and tomorrow someone else comes along, gets scared, and I end up in the same position. I’m tired.”

The ground shakes harder this time, and you grasp the wall beside you.

“Rock, I’ve been helping EOs for a few days, and I’m trying to get more of you to help me fight NWA.”

Rock chuckles sadly. “NWA will always win. You should know, since they’re beating you, too.”

“Just for now. I’m doing what I have to for now, and then they will be history. But I need your help, Rock.”

“I need it more,” he says before the ground tilts beneath you.

Struggling to stand, you slip forward and tumble down the hill you stand on. A man sits at the bottom, and you move toward him slowly.

“Rock,” you say gently.

“It’s over.”

You look past him and see the hills moving, rocks rolling quickly toward the city.

“Rock don’t do this. These people don’t deserve this.”

“Neither do we.”

“Then come with me and help me show them. Killing these people won’t change anything; it will just make them think that you are the monster they believe you to be,” you explain, your voice rising passionately.

“Maybe we are.”

“We’re not!” you yell.

“We?” Rock whispers.

You can’t take it back, and you can’t admit that you misspoke, so you nod. “Don’t let them see us the way they want to.”

The ground stills, the rocks slowing to a stop as the ground levels out.

“What are you planning to do?” he asks.

“Gather EOs, get them to safety, and then when we can group together and make a plan that lets us work together, we take the fight to them. The New World Charter is telling people that EOs are monsters.”

“Won’t fighting them be proving them right, too?”

“Not the way I’m planning,” you answer with a small smile. “But sometimes it takes a little evil to fight for good.”

Rock nods, standing from a tree stump. “Tell me where to go.”

“West. There’s an abandoned train depot. It’s pretty far from here, but it was huge in its day. That’s where I sent the last three EOs.”

Rock nods and takes a step past you before you stop him.

“I can’t guarantee that they’re there,” you admit. “I can’t guarantee your safety after I leave, either. My plan is built on hope and nothing more.”

“We all died before this started. If there’s anything we can trust in, it’s hope,” Rock promises.

“Just- just be careful, Rock.”

He pats your arm, the ground rumbling beneath you.

“You, too. I think you’re in for a lot more trouble than we are.”

As he runs over the hill and out of sight, you let the faint shaking of the ground soothe you. He’s right, you’re in more danger than you care to think about. Now, though, you need to stage another execution.

“You got him?” Daniels asks. Confused, you don’t answer, so Daniels says your name.

“Yes, sir?”

“The ground is still; did you get him?”

“Oh, yes, sir. Sorry, he was strong.”

“Well done. Two in one. Meet me back at the plane.”

Daniels’ apparent trust in you gives you more hope that you are making progress. It also temporarily blinds you, and you don’t notice someone watching you in the shadows. You look at the tree stump beside you and step over it on your way back to the plane.

✯✯✯✯✯

Mitch’s brow furrows as he notices a changed name. The NWA’s list of names has been renamed, so Mitch opens it.

The motto at the bottom has been added to, For an ordinary world, no matter the cost. now says For a world that accepts the unordinary, no matter the cost.

Your name is highlighted, and Mitch smiles as he realizes he was drawn to your information for a reason. He types a quick, nearly unnoticeable change before saving it. A simple letter added, and a change of address to your contact information, which Mitch trusts will be enough to draw you in. The trap has been set, and he hopes they’re the cat in Sydney’s analogy, luring a mouse inside and not the other way around.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your name has been altered, your first and last now surrounding the middle initial V. For Victor, you presume. Your address lists a different city, and you finally know where you’re going.

“Daniels, I think I found a lead. Someone hacked into an old police database and downloaded some files. The computer was in a smaller town outside of San Francisco, sir,” you tell him.

He looks over your shoulder at the computer, and you’re grateful that you took the time to create some faux tracking records. Nodding, Daniels moves to sit across from you as he opens Victor’s file.

“One of the ones that was evacuated?” he asks.

“Yes, sir. During one of the first riots from what I can tell.”

During the dissolution of the United States and its integration into the New World Charter, there were riots in several big cities. They became overwhelmingly violent, and biological weapons were used, or at least threatened to be used in numerous cities, including San Francisco. When it reached this level, many of the residents in the cities and surrounding areas evacuated. Now, ghost towns litter the U.S., acting as the perfect hiding spot for people who don’t want to be found: for ghosts.

“Our next target is on the way to San Francisco; think we have time for a quick stop? Or will they move quickly?”

“I think we have time, sir. The IP location hasn’t changed since the download; maybe that data leak made them think we’d stop searching.”

“Let’s hope. It’d be nice to see that document used for some good.”

If you trusted Daniel a bit more, you’d think he was concerned for the well-being of the people on the list, but he only cares about himself and getting a ticket.

“That would be nice, sir.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Promise not to get mad,” Mitch begins.

“What about me makes you think that’s something I would do?” Victor replies.

“Vic.”

“Fine. What’ve you got?”

“Our Good Samaritan. NWA Agent.”

“No.”

“Hear me out,” Mitch begs. Victor sighs, so Mitch smiles and continues. “She got into my computer; we’ve gone back and forth a few times, and she’s probably on her way.”

“You told her where we are?” Victor asks incredulously. “We don’t know anything about these people, except that they want to kill us!”

“She changed the motto, Vic, she’s on our side.”

“Oh, right, because liars and cheaters working for the New World Charter would never change a motto to learn where I am.”

“Guys?” Sydney asks, holding her arm over her chest. “It happened again.”

“Another life?” Victor asks, his voice softer.

Sydney nods. “I think I know what is causing it: a lot of people think someone is dead, but they’re not. Or something like that.”

Mitch looks at Victor to hypothesize, “As if someone was pretending to kill EOs, and telling their superiors they did their job. Which would affect the one person who can sense life and bring it back.”

Victor shows no emotion as he begins pacing, thinking about everything he’s learned in the last few weeks and now, minutes.

“Do you really trust her?” Sydney asks, moving to stand by Mitch.

“I do. I never would have told her where you were if I didn’t.”

“He doesn’t trust her.”

“No, I don’t,” Victor interrupts. “But I’m willing to meet her. Alone. If, somehow, she convinces me she is trustworthy, I will give her a chance to explain herself.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

Victor nods, acknowledging that he still vows to hurt people before they can hurt Sydney. His safety, his fate, is not the only thing reliant on his decisions, which is why he makes them so methodically.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I found her, Daniels,” you radio.

Someone is standing behind you, and you tense as you turn to face them. Looking around, you’re surprised that no one is there. You still feel eyes on you, but you ignore it and focus on Daniels’s reply.

“Where are you?”

“Second alley west of Main.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

Daniels enters the alley from the east, which surprises you. He passes you while you look at the alley entrance, wondering where he came from.

“Alright. Let’s go get a ticket, then,” Daniels says.

“That’s it, sir?”

“You did your job, didn’t you?”

Daniels sounds strange, something you can’t place in his expression and his words.

“Yes, sir.”

He shrugs and gestures for you to follow him. “Then we can go.”

Doubt, you realize. He’s doubting you for some reason. Assuming that it’s because you are risking his ticket if you are wrong, you follow him wordlessly.

“I think that I should go in alone to get Vale,” Daniels tells you as the plane door closes.

“Sir?”

“I’m the supervising and senior agent, and I don’t feel right about leading you into a death trap like that.”

“Oh. Yes, sir, I understand.”

Daniels smiles as he adds, “And Vale is mine.”

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

As the federal government struggles to recruit young people, a recent survey found that 30% of those between the ages of 18 and 30 have either declined to apply or withdrawn applications for jobs because of strict marijuana policies required for security clearances.

The poll, published on the unofficial marijuana holiday April 20 by ClearanceJobs and the Intelligence and National Security Foundation (INSF), interviewed young adults about federal employment policies, focusing on cannabis.

Participants were first asked whether they’d consider working in a federal position that requires security clearance, and almost 80% said they either would or might consider applying; 40% also said that they’ve used marijuana in the past year.

One of the most notable findings is that 20% of participants said they’ve declined to apply for federal jobs because of the government’s restrictive cannabis policies. Another 10% said they’ve withdrawn applications because of the marijuana rules.

The survey also found that 25% said the government’s marijuana policy would prevent them from seeking employment requiring a security clearance in the future. While 39% said they’d be willing to abstain from cannabis in order to secure a federal job, 18% said they wouldn’t. And 15% said that they wouldn’t stop using marijuana after getting a security clearance.

Interestingly, most of the panel didn’t have a firm grasp on what the government’s cannabis policy actually is. 16% said that any marijuana use automatically disqualifies applicants for security clearance, 37% said there’s no eligibility impact, 24% said it is one of several factors that are considered for clearance, and 23% said they didn’t know.

Similarly, there’s confusion about the policies for people who’ve already obtained security clearances, with 9% saying those individuals can use marijuana anywhere, 31% saying they can use in a legal jurisdiction, 33% saying cannabis use is prohibited, and 26% saying they didn’t know.

Only 4% of participants correctly answered both questions about what the federal government’s security clearance rules are for applicants and those who are already cleared.

The survey involved interviews with 905 adults aged 18-30 living in Virginia, Maryland, the District of Columbia, California, Florida, Texas and Colorado. The interviews took place in February. The margin of error is +/- 3.23 percentage points.

While marijuana employment policies under federal prohibition remain strict, various agencies have moved to loosen requirements as more states have enacted legalization.

For example, the United States Secret Service recently updated its employment policy to be more accommodating to applicants who’ve previously used marijuana, making it so candidates of any age become eligible one year after they last consumed cannabis. Previously, there were stricter age-based restrictions.

The federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives (ATF) has also revised its cannabis rules for job applicants. Applicants who’ve grown, manufactured or sold marijuana in compliance with state laws while serving in a “position of public responsibility” will no longer be automatically disqualified.

Late last year, draft documents obtained by Marijuana Moment showed that the federal Office of Personnel Management was proposing to replace a series of job application forms for prospective workers in a way that would treat past cannabis use much more leniently than under current policy.

The Biden administration instituted a policy in 2021 authorizing waivers to be granted to certain workers who disclose prior marijuana use, but some lawmakers have pushed for additional reform.

For example, Rep. Jamie Raskin (D-MD) said at a congressional hearing on marijuana legalization last year that he intended to file a bill aimed at protecting federal workers from being denied security clearances over marijuana.

Last year, the nation’s largest union representing federal employees adopted a resolution supporting marijuana legalization and calling for an end to policies that penalize federal workers who use cannabis responsibly while they’re off the clock in states where it is legal.

The Director of National Intelligence said in 2021 that federal employers shouldn’t outright reject security clearance applicants over past use, and should use discretion when it comes to those with cannabis investments in their stock portfolios.

The FBI also updated its hiring policies that year to make it so candidates are only automatically disqualified from joining the agency if they disclose having used marijuana within one year of applying. Previously, prospective employees could not have used cannabis within the past three years.

The Department of Transportation (DOT) also took a different approach to its cannabis policy in 2020, stating in a notice that it would not be testing drivers for CBD. However, DOT has more recently reiterated that the workforce it regulates is prohibited from using marijuana and will continue to be tested for THC, regardless of state cannabis policy.

Rep. Earl Blumenauer (D-OR) sent a letter to the head of DOT last year, stating that the agency’s policies on drug testing truckers and other commercial drivers for marijuana are unnecessarily costing people their jobs and contributing to supply chain issues.

The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) also emphasized to its workers that they are prohibited from using marijuana—or directly investing in the industry—no matter the state law or changes in “social norms” around cannabis.

While the Biden administration did institute its waiver policy, it came under fire from advocates following reports that the White House fired or otherwise punished dozens of staffers who were honest about their history with marijuana.

Then-White House Press Secretary Jen Psaki attempted to minimize the fallout, without much success, and her office released a statement in 2021 saying that nobody was fired for “marijuana usage from years ago,” nor terminated “due to casual or infrequent use during the prior 12 months.”