Text
early chapters lloyd my beloved <3 gone but never forgotten <333
i miss you every day </3
#i talk a lot <3#tged#the greatest estate developer#lloyd frontera#sorry i just really love the style the early illustrations have. he looks so baby.#i actually also really love the later chapters' style too especially javier but.#early lloyd does hold a special place in my heart <3333#love having strong opinions about things that categorically do not matter alksjdldsf
139 notes
·
View notes
Text
I cling to your lips like gloss (1)
a Javier Peña x OFC story
now also on AO3
author: @youhavereachedtheendofpie (if u wanna come say hello on main)
rating/warnings: swearing, mentions of character death
words: 5521
Author’s note: dude this chapter fought me every step of the way but it’s here now so suck it, muses or whatever
---
Tag list: @keeper0fthestars @opheliaelysia @dindjarindiaries (thank you sweeties whom I will hold forever in my heart)
(message me if you want to be added to the list)
Masterlist
Prologue
Chapter 1 - The Informant
'Liliana' the file said. I was tucked away in the locked bottom drawer of his old desk, the one he hadn't even had time to clear out when they'd sent him away. To be fair, Javier had only known to look because Murphy had called him to tell him about this informant. It sounded too good to be true. An informant coming to them of their own accord, ready to spill valuable inside secrets of the Calí cartel, and they didn't even want payment? One would be forgiven, in their line of work, to smell a trap. But Murphy had vouched for this one, and he trusted Murphy, knew that his partner (former partner) did his homework with due diligence. That, and the first batch of intel Murphy had brought back from their first few meetings had already proven invaluable.
There was apparently only one hiccup, and it was that the informant refused to talk to any agents other than him or Murphy. It had even led to Steve having to postpone his return to the States for almost two months, until it was clear that Javier would return to Colombia. Fair enough, he'd need to make up his own mind about them anyway. He collected the file and tucked it into the box that held all the stuff he'd cleared out of the desk, since he would now officially be moving a an office of his own.
Upon arriving in said office, he kicked the door closed and sat, lighting a cigarette and reaching for the file. As thin as it was, it still took him almost an hour to work through it, though half of the time was spent deciphering Murphy's chicken scratch mess of annotations. The rest was spent on making his own. After checking the time, Javier fetched himself a cup of the same old tar brew that passed for coffee here, lit another cigarette, and dialled Steve's new office number in Miami.
"Murphy."
"Alright, I've read the file." Javier started without preamble. Perhaps that was a bit short. He grimaced, then added, "About the informant. Liliana."
"Yeah, I figured." Steve exhaled probably puffing away at his own nicotine habit. Javier meant to quit, but kept pushing it off. The intent was all there was to it, at this stage. "So what're you calling me for, big boss?"
Javier elected to ignore the taunt, knowing it was friendly.
"You've met her. Is she legit?"
"Why, you smelling a trap?"
Pathological mistrust was a feature one acquired while on this job. Those who didn't ended up dead. Those who did would still end up dead, just later and more jaded. Either way you'd get a lot of other people killed on the way. "Just making sure."
They spent the next half hour and a bit going over the file together, comparing notes, catching up, thinking aloud - all of which were much easier to do when they had each other to bounce off of. It felt good, almost like old times. Javier went through close to a third of his pack of cigarettes, the air growing heavy in the windowless room. Just as well that it was almost time to wrap this up. A look at his watch told him that it was getting late in the day, and that Steve would want to get home to his family. All Javier could hope for at this point was avoiding resident CIA-asshole Bill Stechner on his way out, at least on this day.
"You won't be able to pull your usual shit with this one." Steve remarked, accompanied by the sound of shuffling papers. Javier bristled, even though he knew the things people said about him, both behind his back and to his face.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Knowing didn't mean it didn't, occasionally, sting, but he'd given up on trying to influence other people's minds long ago. A reputation once acquired was not easily shed, not that he'd made much of an effort to.
"It means that you shouldn't. Pull your usual crap with this one. For one I hardly think it'll be necessary."
"That would be new." Javier snorted. He could hear Steve's eyeroll through the phone.
"Still the same asshole-" Steve snarked. "I'm just saying be nice for once, especially since that woman's intel is the only reason you still have a job. She's a nice lady, so with a bit of luck some of that might even rub off on you."
"And I'm the asshole..."
"So everyone keeps saying."
"Fuck you, Steve."
"Go fuck yourself, Javi." Steve's chuckle told him it was all in good humor. "And don't fuck this informant."
"Yeah, yeah," Javier waved it off. The woman was an accountant, for fuck's sake. Note exactly his usual type. Or the type he usually attracted.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
They were meeting at one of the small restaurants lining the edge of Parque Sabaneta in Medellín. Over the phone her voice had sounded... hesitant, above all else. Tinny, too, but he blamed the connection for that. And he'd brought her a satellite phone for future contacts; her driving out to remote phone cells and him waiting for calls after hours in his office just didn't cut it.
There hadn't been a picture in the file, but Steve's description had been quite accurate and Javier was able to pick her out at the table she'd chosen before making himself known. Dark hair and darker eyes behind large, slightly old-fashioned glasses. She was almost tall and hid her figure underneath loose-fitted clothing; today a flowy blouse and high-waisted dress pants, and a bulky cardigan against the spring chill that lingered even into the late morning. Her hair was pulled back into a low bun that reminded him of his fifth grade math teacher, Ms Jenkins. Javier approached the table.
"Diana Rivas?" She froze for a split-second before relaxing again, returning his greeting softly. In real life her voice was deeper than he would have anticipated, raspier too, but not unpleasant - the kind of voice one would expect first thing in the morning, just after waking up.
"I do hope your drive was not too tiring, Agent Peña." she said as he sat. He grimaced slightly. The drive had been long, above all else. Not his first choice of how to spend a Friday morning. Well, he'd endured worse for this job. But next time he'd definitely travel by plane.
"Do they serve decent coffee here?" Javier scrubbed a hand over his burning eyes and settled, resuming his assessment. She squirmed slightly under his unrelenting gaze, but squared her shoulders after a moment, meeting his gaze head-on and motioning a waiter over with a flick of her delicate wrist.
"Of course they do, this is Medellín!" She sounded mildly offended, then ignored him in favor of telling the waiter their order. Javier took the time to observe her further.
No make-up, no jewellery, save for a simple, functional watch and a small silver locket on a long, thin chain. No wedding band either, but the paleness and indentation around her ring finger still indicated that she'd worn one in the recent past. Her features were soft and feminine, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin, all making her look younger than she purportedly was. His gaze caught on her defined cupid's bow just a second too long. Her complexion seemed far too sunkissed for someone who spent most of their time indoors, in air-conditioned office spaces. In conclusion, undeniably lovely to anyone with eyes who cared to look, but obviously taking great pains to discourage closer scrutiny, to look as mousy and plain as possible. It worked, to a degree.
It occurred to Javier that maybe he should actually talk to her, since that's what he'd come here for.
"Do you always begin your interrogations with the silent treatment? I can see how that might be effective." She beat him to it, just before the coffee cups were set on the table in front of them.
"This isn't an interrogation." he groused, taking a tentative sip of the coffee. The scent of it alone was enough to wake the dead; it was heavenly. He'd have to see if he could weasel some halfway decent coffee out of his budget at the office.
"Regardless, I only have until noon today. We can meet again tomorrow; I can make myself available all afternoon for you, Agent Peña."
Javier huffed out a breath before taking another sip. "Why can you suddenly do Medellín anyway? You had Murphy travel across half the country to meet you."
She made a face at that, something between annoyed and apologetic. "My aunt, she... she's sick and been getting worse. I make the time to come down here every other weekend now to help her."
"And your employers are alright with that?" He hadn't exactly pegged the Calí cartel for employers of the year. Or to pioneer part-time models so their employees could care for sick relatives.
"As long as the work gets done, yes. It means I work ten to eleven hour days Monday to Thursday, but I am the only one left in this family..." She sniffled a little and swept the tips of her fingers under the plastic rim of her glasses, wiping at her eyes. Javier looked away, pretending it was to give her privacy. He imagined this unusually forthright woman walking up to Pacho Herrera to ask for reduced work hours so she could care for her aunt- That could really have gone either way, but somehow he thought that was probably not how it happened, or whom she'd asked. He just couldn't picture it. Maybe one of the brothers; they liked to style themselves as charitable family men, to a degree.
"Anyway, Medellín's closer for you, and we're less likely to be found out here. They like to keep security pretty tight in Calí. My friend Angelika calls it the Calí Stasi, and she's from the former East Germany, so she'd know."
He hummed in acknowledgement, his coffee almost gone and him almost feeling like a living human being again. He flagged the waiter down for another.
"In any case, I am glad that we can keep this to Spanish now. My English is not very ...confident." She prattled on, sipping from her own cup. Murphy had told him that she'd brought a dictionary to their first meeting, and apparently, with his former partner's dismal language skills, they'd actually needed it.
"I'm sure your English is better than Murphy's Spanish." Steve had told him as much, but then again, Steve's Spanish was shit, so it really wasn't saying much. There was something else niggling at the back of his mind.
"Why me?"
Her glasses slid down her nose half an inch or so in surprise at his -admittedly abrupt- question. "I'm sorry?"
"Murphy said you wanted to speak to me specifically when you first called. Why?"
She hesitated a moment, squirmed a little and averted her eyes, then pushed her glasses back up her nose before answering, softer than before. "Gabriela said you could be trusted."
"...Gabriela?" He said sharply, neck flushing at the thought of the beautiful redhead.
She shrunk in on herself, hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. Perhaps his voice had come out a little bit harsher than intended. He hadn't even thought that she'd actually tell him her real name. He'd just been a client after all.
"Yes," Miss Rivas breathed out, her voice so soft now that he had to lean halfway across the table to even catch it. "She's my best friend. We've been inseparable since the firts day of school. We tell each other everything. She told me she knew a DEA agent; that's why I told my cousin to go to her when she ran into trouble with Pablo Escobar-"
"Your cousin???" He almost roared. It came out as more of a whisper-yell, but she still flinched, eyes going wide behind the lenses.
"Yes, my cousin," she said carefully, "Maritza Rincón."
"Maritza–" he patted his pocket for a smoke and swore under his breath when he remembered how he'd left them in the car with the intention of advancing his 'quit smoking'-idea beyond idle talk. "What is this, a fucking trap? Very elaborate setup just to yell at me, missy. Unless you've got some buddies of yours here to–"
"What- what are you *talking* about? I don't blame you for Maritza's death!" By now people were staring. Not a lot of them, since it wasn't really the time yet for the midday crowd and too late for the morning rush, but the few pensioners and whatnot were definitely sensing the tension at their table. Javier gave up on his cigarette search and took a deliberate breath, willing himself to calm down.
"Maritza is dead?" He hadn't known that. He wasn't sure how he would have learned of it, but it still shocked him regardless. He looked over to see her fidget with her locket, lips pressed tight and trembling. Shit. Another informant on his conscience, fucking great.
"I'm sorry, I didn't-" he started, his voice catching. He bought himself time with his now lukewarm coffee, "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't know that. I-"
"It's alright." She whispered, in a tone of voice that clearly indicated it wasn't. She swept her glasses off with trembling fingers and pressed beneath her eyes, as if to restrain the tears that pooled in her lashes.
"I'm sorry." Javier said again, insistent, soft, sincere. "What happened?"
"We- I don't know. She called me to say she was in trouble with Escobar, and I helped her set up the meeting with Gabi."
"With me." He remembered that evening, that young girl sitting in Gabriela's apartment, ready to be sprung on him. Part of him had resented it; Gabriela had been someone he'd sought out to get away from the damn narcos and their dealings. Miss Rivas nodded.
"Yes. It was that idiot Jhon. He was one of the neighborhood kids. Growing up he'd always had a crush on her..." She talked a lot, he found. It should irritate him more, the way she'd throw in seemingly irrelevant asides without explaining further. Instead he only found himself worrying that someone so pathologically honest could not possibly keep the Gentlemen of Calí off her tracks, at least not if she kept spilling her life story so eagerly.
" ...and then she hid out on her uncle's farm again, where my auntie - her mom - grew up and went back to after my uncle - that's Maritza's dad - died of a heart attack. Auntie had been out for the day and when she came back- "
He can't bear to listen to it, but forces himself to anyway. In the sea of his regrets, what's one more? Besides, there's nothing else he can do for the girl now; the least he can do is witness how he failed her.
For all her unassuming bluntness, Diana Rivas is not one to hold back, even on unsavoury details. At least he doesn't get the sense that she does it to torment when she tells him how they found Maritza's lifeless body with her young daughter next to her.
By the end of that sorry tale, he has his head in his hands, Miss Rivas is still just this side of openly weeping, and all the other patrons have demonstratively averted their attention so as not to impose on what must, on the outside, look like an urgent case for a damned good couples' counselor.
"I'm sorry, I know this is a lot." And why in the hell is she apologizing?
"No shit." And yeah, he has to digest this before he can even think of making any attempt at non-destructive human interaction. "You couldn't tell Murphy any of this?"
She gave him a look.
"Yeah, alright. Sorry." More than just a language barrier, got it.
"I didn't come here today with the intention to relive this, you know?" She said archly. He supposed she had all the right to be upset. And he'd never had a meeting with an informant turn this harrowing, which was really saying something.
"I'm sorry." He said again, putting the weight of sincerity behind the words. Her hands were in the table now, fidgeting again as she sat slightly hunched over, staring into her coffee cup.
"Unless your government has a time machine to spare, I would prefer not talking about it again. At least not more than necessary." She replaced her glasses and checked her watch. "1 pm tomorrow?"
Javier nodded dumbly, already plucking a few bills out of his wallet to pay for the coffee. "Yeah, 1 pm is okay. Where?"
"Meet me at the church. Santa Ana. You know it?" He didn't particularly, as in he didn't know its name before now, but he could see the building's tall white facade from where they were sitting.
"Iglesia de Santa Ana, 1 pm tomorrow." Javier confirmed, rising as she did. The stared at each other for a moment, unsure of how to conclude this meeting, until she stuck her hand out for him to shake. He took her smaller, slender hand in his, squeezing it wordlessly.
"Until tomorrow, Agent Peña." She said, managing a sad little smile. "I hope you'll get some rest. You look like shit."
Javier bit down every one of the snarky replies that sprung to mind, not least because he knew it was true. His bags had bags and he itched for a smoke.
And to think, this was Murphy's 'nice lady'.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
Somehow it hadn't occurred to him that at the church meant inside the church. Not until a very miffed face peered out between the heavy doors, giving him a look as he stood there smoking.
"It's barely been five minutes!" Javier defended himself, stubbing out the cigarette beneath his heel.
"It's 1:07pm." She informed him matter-of-factly, pushing the glasses back up her nose pointedly as she made to turn back inside. Javier caught the door, crowding perhaps a bit too close, but the damned thing was heavy.
"Sorry." He said simply, seeing no point in making a scene out of it. She had to crane her neck just the slightest bit to meet his gaze.
"Wait here, I'll be out in a minute." And with that she stalked off. Javi watched her sweep down the aisle, her hair and skirt fluttering behind her. She wore her hair loose today, the ends of it curling around her shoulders, and a simple off-white shirt dress that reached down to mid-calf. He let his eyes trail after her, leaning his weight more fully against the heavy wood of the door to lever it open. She walked around two thirds of the way down the pews before stopping by a... baby carriage?
She bent over it before carefully wheeling it around and starting back towards the door. Javier racked his tired brain. The file hadn't said anything about a kid. Married five years but no children. That didn't seem like the kind of thing one would easily miss, and he knew Murphy to be thorough in his inquiries.
"Who's this then?" He peered inside the carriage -more of a buggy really now that he got a closer look- and barely caught a glance of a dozing toddler with soft brown curls, while hoisting the door open wider to let her pass more easily. "Didn't know you had a kid."
"I don't." The buggy caught on the threshold and jolted, and a displeased cry came from inside it, making her curse under her breath. "This is Maritza's daughter, Salome. I've got it! Just- the door, just get the door!"
The last part of that came out high and sharp, much like the crack of a whip, and in direct response to Javier's attempt to swoop in and help heave the buggy over the worn-down threshold. He jolted back on instinct, grunting when the door swung squarely into his spine. Who the hell was responsible for all these old-ass church doors being solid enough to squash an actual living human between them?
After some fumbling they managed to make it out with most of their dignity still intact. Javier bent down and quickly shoved the bag he'd brought into the wire basket underneath the buggy's seat, next to her purse.
"Where to?" He asked, straightening up again. Miss Rivas still looked cross, her lips pressed together.
"Follow along. There are some secluded benches a little walk away." And off she was, leavin him to catch up.
"If your intention is to disguise this meeting as just another family enjoying the sun I suggest you slow down a little." Javier hissed under his breath. He'd actually had to jog a bit to keep up with her steamroller pace. She looked even more annoyed and declined to grace him with an answer, but slowed with a sigh that told him that this was indeed her intention. It was a smart enough plan, he wouldn't dispute that.
At least the kid seemed to have calmed from her little jostle-startle, seeing as she was now quietly babbling away as if narrating the sights. Javier tried to loosen his tense shoulders and to look like he was enjoying himself as they fell into step ambling along the walkways between the lush greenery.
"How old is she?" he asked, thinking that perhaps some small talk would ease the woman's sullen mood.
"Almost two and a half." Or not. Well, he tried. Javier wasn't exactly an expert with kids and none of his previous informants had ever shown up with theirs. Not that that would have been appropriate considering the circumstances. They walked for about a quarter of an hour, which Javier spent agonizing about how to smooth over the sudden mood change Miss Rivas was displaying compared to the day before. By the time they'd made it to their destination he was no closer to that goal.
She sat with a weary sigh, shaking out her flowy skirt before sitting and rolling her sleeves up to her elbows. It was much warmer today than when they'd met previously, only in part due to the later hour. Stiffly, Javier sat down next to her at a distance that instantly belied their 'family outing' cover. She turned to him after checking on the baby, peeling back the sunshade of the buggy to allow her to look around.
"You can smoke if you want to." Miss Rivas said offhandedly, her tone forcedly polite. Javier cleared his throat.
"I'm actually trying to quit."
Her lips quirked into a pleasant curve. "And how's that going?"
Javier sighed. "I'm thinking I might have chosen the wrong time."
"Or the wrong job."
The laugh that bursts forth from him is short, but not altogether hollow. "Yeah, or that."
"Very well, then you may not smoke even though you might want to."
Javier smiled. Couldn't help it, really. He had been worried that he'd somehow managed to offend her during their last meeting. He said as much, and she shook her head with a look of remorse.
"No, it's not your fault. It's just..." She pushed her glasses up and rubbed at her eyes, revealing the dark rings that had previously been hidden beneath the plastic rim. "Yesterday dredged up some things, and I didn't sleep well as a consequence. That always makes me snippy. And to top things of, this one," she leaned over to unbuckle the child and heave her into her lap, "was being fussy all morning, which didn't help. Sorry for being so short with you earlier."
"In this job, people usually shoot at me. It's alright, really. You're alright." Truth be told, he was glad she pulled herself out of this funk. Maybe she was as nice as Murphy claimed after all. The kid looked at him with large, round, strangely sage eyes. I got your mommy killed. I got your mommy killed and you had to watch. If he had gotten her that visa- The thought made him gulp, made him dizzy and nauseous and if there was anything to be glad for in this situation it was that he was already sitting down. Miss Rivas replaced her glasses and looked at him with furrowed brows. He felt like he was being read.
"I already told you that I don't blame you for Maritza." Javier tried his damnedest not to squirm underneath that discerning stare. Screw read, he felt like he was being flayed open. "Obviously you still blame yourself."
"Wouldn't you?" He shot back, defensive. She didn't answer for a moment, gently rocking the kid who had grabbed a hold of her locket and started to play with it.
"I have enough regrets of my own, Agent Peña." Part of him wants to scoff, even just to dispel the heavy moment, but the severity in her tone nips that impulse in the bud. Instead, he clears his throat and gestures to the buggy where he stored his bag earlier.
"I brought you something."
Her features soften into not quite a smile, but something close enough. "What a coincidence, so have I."
And then she hands him the toddler, who lets out a displeased cry at having her toy wrenched from her chubby hands in so unceremonious a manner, and Javier freezes as her squirmy weight is settled in his lap, only his hand shooting out to steady her on instinct. Up close her big brown eyes are even more enormous.
"Um, hi. Nice to meet you, Miss Salome. I'm Javier." He says awkwardly and is met with a pout. This is patently terrible and reminds him of the few times he'd been handed baby Olivia. She'd started crying instantly nine times out of ten. He hopes against hope that today will be a deviation from that norm. Salome considers him a long moment, blinking owlishly and making that certain kind of skeptical face that little kids so often do. He's had less tense moments in interrogations. He might be sweating in a way that has little to do with the midday heat.
And then Salome blows him a raspberry and dives for his wrist to investigate the shininess of his watch. And when he can breathe again he allows himself a smile. Of relief, mostly. In stark contrast to the smile Miss Rivas wears as she regeards them both, which is pure mischief with a dash of smugness.
"Well look at that. You passed muster, Agent Peña." Miss Rivas set both their bags down in the space between them, then leaned over to press a quick kiss to little Salome's soft curls. And Javier has been much closer to many women than this; his heart shouldn't lurch at the sudden proximity, the waft of her perfume or the light brush of her soft hair over his bare forearm.
"Ladies first." Javier gestured at the bags between them. She smiled and rummaged through hers, producing two thick stacks of folded papers, either parcel secured with a rubber band.
"Trade you?" she motioned at the girl, who was now intently examining the fingers of his right hand. Reluctantly, he let Miss Rivas pluck the small child from his lap and stand her next to the bench. Salome frowned adorably for a moment at having been interrupted in pulling his pinky finger off, then realized she was free to roam around and brightened instantly, hitting the bench a few times with chubby palms and babbling.
"Yes, of course I have your toy, sweetie." Miss Rivas said earnestly, presenting a brightly colored ball. Salome grabbed for it with a squeal, her momentum propelling her straight onto her backside. Miss Rivas turned back to Javier with that soft, fond expression still on her face and handed him one of the parcels.
"Do... did you want to go over this? While I'm here to explain things?"
"That complex, huh?"
"Well, it's a lot to do with creative book-keeping and tax law loopholes. It's more about how they structure their business to launder their incomes than anything else, but it'll still be helpful in building a case, no?"
It is, which is the whole reason he's been sent back here apparently. And while it's nothing the analysts back at the office can't handle (probably), he still likes being in the loop. And also maybe because he enjoys the sound of her voice. In any case he peels off the rubber band and unfolds the stack of papers, keeping a careful hand around it to ensure that nothing blows away in the spring breeze. Miss Rivas pulled out a pencil from her purse and shuffled closer. Close enough that he can smell her perfume again. - - - Over the following hour and a half Javier realized several important things:
One. Diana Rivas is likely one of the cleverest people he has ever met. By page eight his head is swimming with numbers, but her even explanations make even tiered corporate tax rebate systems sound fascinating. Even in his line of work, he'd never truly considered accounting to be the stuff of suspense, but she makes it sound like a thriller that even the brightest heads in Hollywood would have trouble coming up with.
Two. Having to do anything while keeping an eye in a rambunctious small child who is still learning to walk is a uniquely stressful experience. Little Salome is bouncing around the small patch of grass in front of the bench much like her ball, endowed with seemingly endless reservoirs of energy. She crashes into his knee a few times while chasing her ball or deciding that playing hide and seek underneath the bench is a better use of her time, and it puts him on edge that he feels responsible at all.
Three. The Rodríguez brothers make more than enough money from their few legitimate businesses to never have to worry themselves financially. Not that this had been in question, technically, but to see the numbers in black and white is still galling, even if he's not nearly as incensed about it as Miss Rivas seems to be. And while Javier is far from a religious man, he does consider greed that is levered with blood to be at least distateful.
Four. It's not her perfume he smelled earlier, but her shampoo, bright and fruity, with high notes of citrus.
Five. As long as this is all they have and all she can get, the DEA cannot make a move against the Calí cartel. His orders had been very clear on that. Nail them down beyond escape and make absolutely sure you get them into custody, in that order. It means that whatever Miss Rivas can reveal about the inner financial working of the cartel is valuable, but on its own won't be enough. As always in this job it's sorting through a haystack with a rake in search of needlepoints.
Which brings him to the next thing he needs to ask her. Needs to ask her to do for him, and the operation, to be specific, and he can already tell she'll say yes eagerly. Eager informants should be a blessing, but their eagerness seems to directly correlate with their likelihood of getting killed, or close enough.
"This is for you." He says instead, handing her the satellite phone. There's directions that go with it, but he takes the time to walk her through it nonetheless. Also his numbers, both office and home, just in case. He watched as she carefully tucked everything into her purse.
It's later in the afternoon now - past three - and Salome comes toddling over, handing Javier her ball and sitting down on the grassy ground with a world-weary sigh.
"Okay, time for your nap I think, young lady." Miss Rivas plucked the child from the ground and stood to deposit her back in the buggy, then holding out her hand to him expectantly. He hands the ball over after a split-second of dumbstruck hesitation.
"Well, goodbye then, Agent Peña."
He stood. Offered her his hand to shake, which she took. "I'll call you during the week. What time is good for you?"
"Any time between seven and ten. I'll probably be in Medellín again in a month. I'll let you know if I have more intel by then." He nodded, finally releasing her hand after realizing he still had her fingers clasped in his. She smiled and turned to leave, wheeling the buggy around from its resting position and onto the footpath. "Oh, and Agent Peña?" She turned halfway, throwing the words over her shoulder with a smirk. "Gabriela won't be available tonight, just so you know. We're meeting for dinner and general catching up."
His neck flushed hotly, both despite and because he'd had no intention of visiting her.
"Thanks," he said stiffly, "Give her my best."
"Will do!"
Shaking his head, Javier watched her retreat until she disappeared from view behind a bend in the path.
-------------------------------------------------------
Further author’s note bc apparently I have more to say:
I’m gonna play a bit fast and loose with the timeline, because the show makes it look like Javi was sent back pretty much immediately and it only took those ~6 months to take down the cartel bosses, but in reality Escobar died in December of 1993 and the Calí godfathers weren’t arrested until summer of ‘95, so I’m sending Javi back to Colombia in the first half of ‘94 (April to be specific), meaning the time frame for this story is about a year
also I thought Maritza’s daughter in the series was still a baby, but upon rewatch it is actually stated in s2 ep4 that she’s two, and now I had to rewrite those parts. As to why she doesn’t speak, that’s actually something that will come up later and has nothing to do with my bad memory of the series. though tbh I probably assumed that because Olivia was a baby for like three years. (also according to the timeline I determined Maritza’s daugher would actually be between three and four at this point, but I’m going to disregard that. I’ve already had to age her up once and for the purposes of this story I need her to be still this little)
Chapter 2
#narcos (tv)#javier pena x ofc#series#I cling to your lips like gloss (series)#multipart#javier peña#narcos#narcos fanfic#javier peña fanfic#my writing#part 1#like gloss tag
120 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lawful Good
Javier Peña x Reader
Warnings: none, slow burn, little bit of angst, age gap(?), really bad formating (sorry I'm on mobile)
Words: 2.8K words.
A/N: this is my first fic in forever so please bear with any typos and a writing style I haven’t updated in awhile! Please feel free to comment or drop me a message with any kind of criticism or advice for writing. I’m planning to have a few chapters for this fic with it getting er... more adult(?) as it goes. Thank you so much for reading 🖤
Chapter one
Your alarm sounded. It was morning again and you grumbled as you stretched to hit the alarm and stop the god awful ringing.
6:30am. Monday.
It would take you a further 15 minutes to roll out of bed and drag yourself to the shower. Bogotá was one of those cities that never slept. It didn’t matter if it was 3am or 3pm, the buzz was the same. You could hear the city street below from your bathroom window, car horns and traffic sounds, occasional mumbled chatter just a little too out of range to hear properly. You loved it.
Sure the city wasn’t the safest, but you could easily say your neighbourhood back home in El Paso wasn’t exactly the safest either. The large US military presence there did little to comfort you, but it was what pushed you towards studying law. Living on the US-Mexican border all your young life had opened your eyes to the world outside of Texas. When you told your abuela that you had decided to go back to the country of her birth to study law so you could fight for people like her, refugees of crime and corruption, she had wept. Tears of pride and tears of fear. Your abuela knew all too well the dangers of the cartels, and the traffickers, and the corruption rife in every area of authority, but she also knew if there was anyone who could make a difference ‘it’s you mi amor’
You had stuck to your guns, and at the young age of 18 you had gone to live with your great uncle in Bogotá to study for you law degree, graduating with honours at the tender age of 22. Ever determined, you had taken on a masters of law specialising in criminal law. It was here you had gotten the attention of the DEA. An American of Colombian decent, fluent in Spanish and studying criminal law… well you were an opportunity too good to miss.
Another 2 years and a bar exam later and you found yourself at a desk in a cramped office at the DEA’s Colombian outpost at the US Embassy, working in a team dedicated to catching the almighty Pablo Escobar. It was messy work, and you were there essentially on janitorial duties. You swept away whatever hell the agents created and covered their backs with legal loopholes and the occasional bribe. You were their safety net… and you loved every second.
Though it always took you an extra 15 minutes to roll yourself out of bed and get in the shower on a Monday, by the time you’d rinsed the shampoo from your hair and wrapped yourself up in your towel you were eager to go.
You padded to your kitchen, still wrapped in your towel with hair dripping, and remembered how grateful you were not to be living with your great uncle anymore. You loved him of course! But having your own apartment, in the same block as many of the DEA staff and their families, was a dream come true.
You hummed whatever tune it was you’d subconsciously heard blaring from a car stereo in the traffic jam below and fixed yourself a coffee. You’d spent too long in the shower, for some reason deciding that Monday morning was the ideal time to condition your hair, so would have to skip breakfast if you wanted to be dressed and semi presentable before Steve arrived at your door to give you a lift to the office.
Steve was kind. A little too American in his thinking at times, but kind and considerate and loyal to a fault. He’d arrived in Bogotá about a year after you started with the DEA and you’d become fast friends. The fact that you’d always make an effort to translate any Spanish spoken in the office for him had endeared you to him and he’d made it his mission to silently act as your guardian; driving you to and from the office, inviting you to dinner with him and his wife Connie to be sure you’d eaten well that day, and, in your opinion the kindest of gestures, letting you leave a pair of trainers in his car so you could take your heels off at the end of a long day.
You looked forward to your morning catch up with Steve and quickly hurried about finding a pencil skirt and flowy white blouse for the day. You grabbed your heels and your bag and were just pinning your hair into a messy bun when there was the knock on your door.
Your embassy ID card held tightly in your teeth as your tried to finish your hair and open the door, you were greeted by a wry smile and a pair of aviator shades.
‘Javi!’ You mumbled through your ID card, finishing your hair and stuffing your ID into your bag ‘are you getting a lift with us today?’
‘I am your lift today, remember?’ you could never tell if he was amused or slightly annoyed.
‘Steve’s away? Connie’s sister got married at the weekend or something’ he looked away uninterested.
You’d forgotten in your morning haste. Steve and Connie had gone back to the States for the week for Connie’s sister’s baby shower… she’d been married for years…
Javier looked back to you, looking you up and down from behind the shades that didn’t quite hide his eyes well enough.
‘Shall we go? You ready?’ his gaze was on your eyes at last and you nodded, slipping into your heels, no trainers for you today.
You followed Javier down the stairs from your apartment down to the small parking garage at the bottom of the building. He was wearing those ever-so-slightly-too-tight jeans, that red shirt he never ever buttoned up fully, and that leather jacket that, despite the early morning heat steadily rising, he refused to take off.
He was handsome, tall with beautiful dark eyes and thick dark hair. He had a manner about him that said he new he was gorgeous and he liked people to acknowledge it, but on his own terms. He didn’t strike you as one who was comfortable taking a compliment when he wasn’t the one initiating. He could come off as arrogant and pushy, but for those of you who knew him, he was secretly soft. He had a hardened exterior, weather beaten and battered by years on the job and years in a city that could easily chew you up and spit you out. This particular job, the capture of Escobar, had been especially rough on him. Close shaves and near misses had damaged him somewhat, but there was still a spark of humour and kindness for those who had earned it.
You slipped into the front passenger seat of Javi’s jeep. ‘You know, I think this is the first time I’ve ever been in your car’ you said, looking around at the slightly stretched leather and the cup holders doubling as ash trays.
‘Uh huh’ was the extent of the response you got. Javi reversed on to the street and set course for the embassy.
‘Did you do much at the weekend?’ You attempted. If you weren’t going to get your full gossip session with Steve this week then you were going to at least try and make small talk with Javi.
‘No not much’ he replied, eyes fixed on the road ‘you?’
You shot him a look. You knew full well that he’d been up to something… or up in someone.
You lived in the apartment above Javier, and while you couldn’t quite hear the conversations on the street below your window, you could most certainly hear the screams and moans of the women who frequented the apartment below.
‘Not much either… a different kind of not much to you mind’ you grinned at him. He side eyed you and gave a little smirk before focusing back on the road.
The moment you’d been introduced to Javier Peña you’d clocked him as a ladies man. He’d been polite and professional as he smiled and shook your hand to introduce himself, but he’d also looked you up and down and slightly raised his eyebrow, liking what he saw.
You’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t thought about it or what it would be like, but you quickly fell into a friendship with him and Steve which became far more important to you than being another of Javi’s conquests.
And yet still, you’d occasionally find yourself falling into that thought trap and have to snap out of it before your mind was irretrievably down the rabbit hole. You knew he was good, you had heard how good he was all weekend… but you didn’t have the luxury of being able to think of him in that way. You couldn’t risk your career over him.
And yet as you sat at your desks and he removed his leather jacket, flashing just a little too much of his chest through the barely-buttoned shirt, you found yourself crossing your legs and your cheeks turning just a little bit too red.
***
The day passed slower than usual without Steve’s banter. You missed him! This had been the first time in ages Steve hadn’t been there and it only made you more grateful to have someone like him in your life. You made a note to buy him a bottle of something expensive upon his return, just to let him know how much you missed him without actually having to say it.
You were jotting down your note when a hand covered your piece of paper and another reached over to take the pen right out of your hand.
‘What the f-’ you began sharply, looking up to see Javi standing over you. You bit your lip before you had any chance to think about your reaction.
He looked down and chuckled ‘it’s late and I want to go home, do you want a lift?’ He asked, putting the pen down on the desk and moving to stand beside you rather than over you.
You blinked back to reality, dragging your brain back from the depths of that damn red shirt. ‘yes please, I hadn’t realised the time’ you gently rubbed your eyes and moved to stand.
You stretched your arms out wide, pulling your blouse up ever so slightly so as to expose a flash of skin. You caught him looking, no aviators to hide behind in here.
He met your eyes and shifted his feet, slightly awkward but quickly snapping back to his usual self.
You shivered slightly. It had gotten cooler as the daylight had faded and in your rush this morning you had forgotten your jacket. Now the cold was creeping up your skin, leaving little goosebumps in its wake.
‘I forget how chilly it can get here’ you said, more to yourself than anyone else, but it was Javier who replied.
Returning from his desk he handed you his leather jacket. ‘Borrow this, it’ll be cold on the ride home, I want a smoke so I’ll need the window open’.
You took it, grateful, and draped it over your shoulders. There was no point trying to wear it as intended, the sheer weight of it alone told you it would swamp you, so you chose to wrap it round your shoulders holding it closed with yours hands.
‘Thank you’ you smiled, these were the acts of kindness Javi only offered his worthy friends.
‘Welcome’ he said, quickly inspecting you, perhaps liking the way you looked in his clothes?
He nodded towards the door and you followed him out in to the night air, shuffling in your heels… no trainers tonight!
***
As soon as you arrived back in the garage of your shared apartment block, your heels were off. Holding them in your hand as you padded barefoot to the stairwell.
‘Hey uh’ the voice behind you called ‘I know you and Steve usually have a catch up on your drives, he tells me about them sometimes’ Javi was looking up at you from the bottom of the stairwell ‘and I’m sorry I’m not as… not as chatty as him’ he offered sincerely.
You chuckled ‘it’s fine, Javi! I promise not to try and talk to you on the drive, I know you like to drive quietly… Steve tells me things about you too’ you winked then caught yourself and pulled a slightly startled face. Winking?! Who were you??
You drew a proper laugh from Javi ‘he also tells me you guys have dinner together a lot, do you want to come to mine one night this week? I’ll be your surrogate Steve’
You blinked down at him ‘how about tonight and you come to me? I don’t believe for one second you can cook as well as Connie and at least at mine I know there’s some actual food in the fridge!’
A flashy smile plastered his face ‘you’re on, but if only in part because you’re still wearing my jacket’.
You hadn’t even realised but you were still wearing his jacket. You slipped it off your shoulders, accidentally revealing a little of your tummy skin again, ‘come and get it then’ you beamed, not knowing exactly how innocent you had meant that to sound.
He followed you up the stairs and stood behind you as you slid the key into the lock of your door.
‘What have you got for me then?’ He leaned a little closer to your ear as he spoke, sending a shiver down your spine.
You felt him follow you in closely behind you as you turned to close the door.
Chapter two
(masterlist)
#javier peña x reader#javier x reader#javi#javier peña#narcos#narcos au#javi fic#narcos fic#pedro pascal#javier peña x you#javi x you#narcos fanfic#javier peña fanfic#my writing
110 notes
·
View notes
Text
Please Assist Me (Chapter 3)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
He said
Not long after that conversation with Alex, it was the party for my mom. Karina had insisted that Sophia and the kids come given the work she’d put into planning it and it was an informal affair with other kids coming and some entertainment laid on for them in the hotel gardens. After the meal, I caught up with Sophia as she needed to go through some travel requirements with me. Once that was sorted out, the conversation turned to some books she’d ordered for me and how I was getting on with them.
“So how’s the Dostoevsky?” she asked
“Oh I’m not onto that yet, I’ve read it before but I lost my copy. I thought I’d take it on the trip – something to pass the hours in the lounge and on the plane”
“Would you recommend it? I’ve not read any of his before”
“Oh yeah, it’s amazing, the characters are so real – it’s kind of dense, you know, but worth the effort. What do you like to read?”
“Oh well, I don’t read enough. It’s hard to find time with the kids - Javier really didn’t like me reading either”
“What! Why?”
“Oh because once I start I can’t stop! You know if we were on holiday and I took a book, I’d just be, poor company I guess and he doesn’t read – not fiction anyway so, I guess it was one of the many things we didn’t agree on!”
“Well that’s his loss! So you never said, what you like I mean”
“Oh, classics I guess like Jane Austen and Hardy. And some new stuff – you know, thrillers like “Gone Girl” and I did just read a new book, the sequel to The Handmaid’s Tale, “The Testaments”
“Oh right, good?”
“yeah really good – just as disturbing as the first but also a gripping tale, almost an adventure really, you know wondering what will become of each character you follow”
We carried on talking books and screen adaptations. It was really the first time we’d talked about something other than her work tasks and I enjoyed it. It got my thoughts drifting back to what Alex had said.
The trip I was going on was in New York for 4 days - it was a casting trip where I’d be meeting up with Anja, a casting director to finalise a few roles for a future project.
We had fun and the casting was successful. I enjoyed Anja’s company and I noticed that she was being a little flirty. There was no time for more than an informal bite in New York but she grasped the bull by the horns and suggested we go out when we got back to LA.
I agreed – I guess I was trying to shake off Alex’s words and thought that maybe a relationship with her would be more appropriate than starting something with Sophia - after-all, I didn’t even know if there was a chance Sophia could like me in that way.
I couldn’t think where to go for our bite so ended up suggesting that we have a low key meal at my place. I texted Sophia, asking for help again with the prep though I can’t deny feeling a certain awkwardness about doing that after what Alex had said about my possible feelings for her.
After the casting trip, I arrived back home from New York in the early hours of Friday, earlier than I’d planned and headed straight for bed. I’d hopefully be able to thank Sophia later when she came over with the groceries that I needed for the meal the next day.
She Said
I remember when things started to get complicated in my heart. We’d had such a nice chat about books at his mum’s party and he’d given me a hug to thank me for my efforts on his behalf with sorting all the arrangements. By now, I definitely felt like he was a friend as well as my boss.
Shortly after the party, Keanu went to New York to do some casting sessions. I got a text from him the day before his planned return asking for some help with another dinner. He didn’t say who was coming which led me to believe it must be a woman. For the other meals I had helped him with he’d always made a point to say who the guests were (how many, their names etc) Maybe it was the casting lady from the trip – he’d said she was also based in LA.
My feelings were unnameable - at least I didn’t want to name them as they made me ashamed. There was a mix of the protective in there but also jealousy for sure. I scolded myself for my crazy feelings.
It only got worse when I went to the house to make sure everything was fine there, feed the fish etc. There were some clothes on a clothes airer in the kitchen that I’d thrown in the washer for him after he left. I folded them and headed to his room, opening the door without a care only to find the room in semi darkness and Keanu lying asleep on the bed. He was on his back and I was fairly sure he was naked. The sheets barely covered his modesty and I almost dropped the laundry at the sight. I turned on my heal quick as a flash to get away in case I’d disturbed him enough to wake him.
I felt hot - my thoughts flitting between wondering why he was home already and marvelling at his lovely body.
I headed back to the kitchen with the laundry pile and distracted myself by making a start on the food prep for his meal tomorrow. About an hour later a sleepy Keanu emerged, surprised to see me standing chopping onions at the island
“Sophia, I thought you were coming later. Everything OK?”
“Yeah, all fine” I reassured him “I just couldn’t get a sitter for the kids after school and I thought it would be better to get this done on my own, without the rug rats causing mayhem”
“Oh sure. I came home earlier ……….” He stated
“Yes I know” I replied a blush rising in my cheeks” and I couldn’t help but glance in the direction of the laundry pile
“There’s some laundry there for you - I didn’t want to …… disturb you by bringing it in”
I could see the flush of embarrassment rising up his neck and above his beard
“I took you by surprise didn’t I?”
“Just a bit” I chuckled and the mood relaxed a little
“Sorry” he said rubbing his chin, still blushing.
“No problem. Anyway, I’m all done now so I’ll leave you in peace. Hope your dinner goes well”
“Sure, thanks Sophia, I really appreciate it”
He Said
My dinner date with Anja went really well. She loved the food and we had a lot in common - some of our friendship and professional circles overlapped so the conversation never ran dry. There were still parts to cast for the project so I knew we’d continue to see each other, so there was time for things to develop. I actually got the distinct impression that she wouldn’t have minded if I’d made a move on her then but that wasn’t my style anymore on a first date. I’d got more cautious in my old age - at least that’s what I told myself. In retrospect, I wonder if something else was holding me back. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to get laid but as she left to get her Uber, I just went for the kiss on the cheek and we said we should arrange something else soon - probably after our next casting session in a week or so.
It was the Autumn of 2019 and things were quieter for me workwise though I started to go to the gym regularly knowing the Matrix 4 was around the corner. I didn’t need Sophia so much for household tasks but there was still some travel and for once I started to think about Christmas quite early rather than making a last minute dash to Neiman Marcus on Christmas Eve!
Sophia was once again in her element choosing gifts for my mom and sisters. She’d also built a friendship with Karina after the party for Mom so she was able to check out her ideas for Kim and Mom with her.
Things had moved along with me and Anja too - we’d had 3 or 4 dates and for the next one, I had invited her to mine again for a dinner. Once again I roped in Sophia to help me with shopping, prep and baking a pudding. She was going to bake me her fabulous brownies which I’d tried when she left me one as a little treat one day. It was in a cute little container with a post it on it saying “eat me!”
I’d returned the favour but not with food, leaving her my recently re-read copy of “The Brothers Karamazov” on the kitchen counter with a post-it saying “read me!”
Anyway, after tasting her heavenly brownie I knew it would be perfect for the meal I had planned. and she baked it at my house so it would be super-fresh, leaving the kitchen smelling enticing.
I served a simple steak for our meal with asparagus and baked Portobello mushrooms. Anja was full of praise for the main and thrilled with the brownie, closing her eyes and making yummy noises that made my groin contract and my pants tighten.
“For that you have Sophia to thank, not me!” I admitted.
“Your PA bakes for you?”
I chuckled
“Yes she is quite the multi-tasker! I basically defined the role myself so it covers many of the standard PA things and a few unique extras”
“Like what?” Anja enquired, a quizzical look on her face
As I described the things she did, Anja started laughing
“So basically, you designed the job of a 50s wife without the complication of a relationship?”
I blushed bright red at that, especially as exactly that thought had crossed my mind when I decided I needed a PA”
I held my hand up
“You caught me! Anyway, put it this way, she’s made my daily life a whole lot easier”
“Well thank her from me for the delicious brownie”
“I’ll be sure to - so shall we go through to the living room to digest?”
Anja gladly accepted and I was thrilled to be changing the subject from my 50s wife/ PA! We took our wine through and settled on the sofa, deciding to listen to some music. I invited Anja to look through my vinyl collection and pick something. She was about 10 years my junior so we hadn’t grown up with the same music - I had to describe various bands to help her pick something. It wasn’t exactly the right atmosphere for the Pixies or Ramones! She picked the Doors which was very chill - we snuggled up and I nestled my face into her hair. Slowly she tilted her neck to the side, an unspoken invitation to nibble her neck which I gladly did and soon we were kissing. We’d kissed before but this time I could feel that it was leading somewhere which was only confirmed when Anja shifted to straddle me. I grasped her ass and pulled her closer, whispering in her ear that maybe we should move things to the bedroom.
Once in the bedroom, Anja and I made short work of removing our clothes and were very soon having sex, I say that very specifically as it wasn’t making love, at least not for me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed it and she said she did too but I’ve never felt so disconnected or remote whilst having sex. Anja is beautiful too and a nice person but some level of spark was definitely lacking. I could feel myself looking ahead to my new year schedule and using the excuse of being away to put a lid on things. That made me feel shitty and ashamed.
She Said
Through November, my role continued as usual as did my regular contact with my boss as we checked off the Christmas gifts and I supported him in keeping his home running smoothly. By then, he was dating his casting agent Anja which I knew from the gossip rags as well as direct from the horse’s mouth as he’d got me to bake him my brownie for a dinner he’d had at home with her.
I wasn’t sure what to make of it really – I couldn’t put my finger on it but something seemed a bit off Maybe it was the way he talked about her or more how he didn’t. You could always tell when he was passionate about something, whether it was a book, a meal, a project and so I assumed that would carry over to people - it did with his family. Maybe he was just being guarded but, as I said, we were on very friendly terms by then so I did wonder how into her he really was.
It turned out that Karina suspected the same. We’d met up for a coffee to look at gift ideas for their mother when she brought it up.
“So what do you think’s going on with Ke and this Anja woman?”
“What?!” I spluttered, surprised that she was gossiping with me about her big brother.
“Oh you must know, you know everything” she smirked
“I do not!” I protested.
“I bet you know if she’s slept over”
I blushed as she was right. I did know. I’d seen the tell tale signs after I’d made the brownie for them - I had spotted a couple of her things left in his bathroom when putting fresh toiletries in his vanity unit in the bathroom.
I swallowed and told her what I knew.
“Let’s just say that I loaned him the book “Normal People” a few weeks back - and I don’t think he needs a book right now for satisfaction if you know what I mean!”
She nodded, grinning.
“Do you think it’s serious”
“Come on! I can’t say, I know I’ve worked for him for almost a year now but we don’t talk about that kind of stuff and I don’t know him well enough to judge”
“Oh, I think you do, if he was in love, you’d know”
“I don’t know about that!” I blushed secretly knowing she was probably right. I could read him pretty well by now.
“Well I do, I’ve seen you together, you know him now. I mean what was the first personal thing you did for him?”
“Buy Kim that coffee set, I guess”
“Yes, and when he talked about Kim, you knew right away, didn’t you?, how very much he loves her and how important it was because he talked about her with passion. I remember you telling me that and how he briefed you for my tagine and Mom’s party.
“Yeah, yes I guess you have a point”
“And how does he talk about her?”
“Like….” I pondered a few seconds “like a colleague” I admitted.
“Exactly, he’s just getting laid if you ask me and it won’t last come the new year when he’s off to San Fran”
I shrugged. It wasn’t my affair to worry about.
“Well they’re grown-ups aren’t they – hopefully neither of them will get hurt” I said glad to close the topic. I felt like I was talking out of turn even though it was with his sister.
@fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithkeanu @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @keanureevesisbae @penwieldingdreamer @witty-wallflower @paperplanesandwallflowers @bitchyslut99 @ladyreapermc @toomanystoriessolittletime @fanficsrusz @keanuficfiles
4 notes
·
View notes