#while jacobi's like oh no i am not taking orders from *you* anymore

[clonerightsagenda]

Realized the 'shoot the gas line' bit of the Alien Minkowski AU is just me revisiting my perennial theme of why are there guns in space. It always comes back to that.

[teacup-crow]

Maybe, Maybe, Maybe

Fun bit of survivors’ guilt for @badthingshappenbingo, based pretty heavily off Don’t Poke the Bear and Variations on a Theme. Post-finale.

They take it in turns to keep watch for when he wakes up: Doug, Reneé, Isabel, first names still such a novelty. Just his luck, he opens his eyes to the impassive face of Captain Lovelace.

“Hi, dickbag. Sore head?”

“Unnnnhh…” he whines as if he’s lying under a ton of rocks rather than a cosy quilt on Renee’s living room floor. His face is a patchwork of bruising. “Aspirin?”

She takes pity, and passes him two and a glass of water. The sitting up takes longer than he thought it would.

“You look terrible. Lucky for you, Renee makes a mean chilli con carne. Never would have guessed she could cook.”

“No thanks, I should, should be going-”

“You need food in your system, that’s non-negotiable. First thing’s first, though, you’re having a shower, and you either go willingly or get dragged bodily, because you goddamn stink. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbles automatically, and he remembers the Colonel - Warren? Was it on a day he could call him Warren? - once saying something similar and his head pounds. ((“mr jacobi, of all the irresponsible, stupid shit i have seen from you this really takes the-“))

“Bathroom’s on the second floor, just past the master bedroom. Dominick put a pile of clean clothes in there before he left for work. And it’s Isabel, okay? Not sir. Not Captain. Never again.”

***

“Who did this to you?”

He grips his mug of sweet tea like it’s thousand dollar whiskey. He’s still ashen. “I did this to me.”

“You beat the shit out of yourself? Okay, yeah. Don’t buy that one.” Isabel repeats the question. “Who did this to you?”

“Just some guys I pissed off. I don’t know how many. I don’t know who. Happy now?”

The room goes silent. Isabel continues:

“And did you go provoking them deliberately?”

Not for the first time, Renee wonders whether they should have included Doug in this little intervention. He’s been through so much just like the rest of them, but he doesn’t know it, and he’s clearly freaking out at the situation.

“Why would he want something like that to happen? He looks terrible!”

“I don’t know, Doug,” Isabel says levelly. “Care to answer, Jacobi?”

He’s not on a first name basis, apparently.

“Not… I didn’t... no. No, no, no. I was too drunk and… picking fights, but suddenly there were too many of them, okay? But I got out. And if I want to drink then that’s my own problem, so thank you for the hospitality but-“

Renee cuts in there. “When you drink yourself into a stupor, get attacked by a gang in a back alley, and stumble into my doorway at 0300 hours after six months of radio silence, it becomes our problem.” Her look of pity makes his stomach churn even more than the chilli did. He breathes in, hold, out; in, hold, out; in-((alana’s breathing technique and why why why is she everywhere in everything why does he have to see her out of the corner of his eye when it’s been so long he can’t properly remember her face-))

“Fine. What do you want from me?”

“You are a good man and you saved every single one of our lives and we need to understand why you’re so intent on throwing yours away.”

Jacobi starts laughing then, guttural laughs that worsen the ache in his head and bones but he can’t seem to stop them. “...me? I’m a good man? Oh my God, Lieutenant, that’s hilarious. Give us another.”

“You need to take this seriously! This is a form of self harm! You could have died!” Isabel is pacing up and down. She and Renee do good cop, bad cop like it’s a professional sport.

“Boo fucking hoo. And the world would forever be worse off for my passing.”

Isabel stops, and turns back towards him with some heat in her gaze. “I have lost too many crew members who deserved to die far less than you do. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Do you need me to reconfirm that you are a an asshole? Do you need to hear about how Fisher, and Hui, and Fourier, and Lambert were all far better people than you will ever, ever be? Or will you accept that you are good in there? That deep down you’re on the right-“

“We burned their letters.” He’s staring at the duvet he’s wrapped in, running his finger over the flowers on the pattern. “Okay? Still think I’m a good person?”

“...wait. What?” She laughs a little, in shock perhaps. “But you told me…”

“I told you what I needed to tell you to make you trust me. We burned your crew’s letters. Lambert’s… I remember those especially. His hands were shaking really hard when he wrote them, weren’t they.”

It’s not a question.

Isabel stops pacing, and Jacobi grins again but it doesn’t reach his bruised eyes when he looks up at her. “More than mine, even. You could tell he was sick. They didn’t make any sense. We laughed at them. The irony of a Communications Officer who can’t communicate. Are you listening to me? We read their letters and we burned them and we laughed about it-“

Renee loses her softness. “Jacobi, that is enough!”

Isabel has a hand on her chest as if something has hit her there. She counts to ten in her head, ((fisher’s technique to try and stop her fighting with sam, never worked but still stuck in her head, or this copy of her head, or whoever she is now-)) and leaves the room.

They hear her slamming drawers in the kitchen.

Doug glances at Jacobi and shakes his head, before hurrying after her.

“How could you,” Reneé says. “How could you.”

“I don’t know. Will you let me go and ruin my own life now?”

“Never,” she replies. “Because, God help me, you’re still a member of my crew.”

At that, his eyes prick with tears he can’t explain. He rolls over on the air bed, and closes them.

***

“Lovelace?” Jacobi finally makes himself walk into the kitchen, grimacing like each step is on hot sand. The words are monotone. “I’m so sorry. What I did and said is... inexcusable.”

“Nope. That’s too large a word for your vocabulary. Come back to me with an apology Renée didn’t script,” Isabel snaps, going back to scribbling in a sketchbook.

“Look, I’m not much good at this-“

“You’re telling me.”

“I’m… really used to people yelling at me and hitting me until they feel better. Or you can shoot me if you like!”

“Jesus. Well, I am not about to do that to ease your guilt. You look like you’d snap if one more person poked you. So apologise properly.”

“I’m sorry…”

“For?” Isabel prompts over the top of her book.

“I’m sorry for burning your crew’s letters.”

“You did what you were ordered to do. It is what it is. I’m not condoning it.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Jacobi realises she’s waiting for him to continue. “And… I’m sorry for bringing it up. That was… needlessly cruel. It sucked.”

“It really did,” she replies, putting the book down. “Tell you what: that sounded somewhat genuine, and Goddard brought out the shit in all of us. You look so pathetic, I’m going to forgive you. Not because you deserve it, but because I don’t bear grudges. Not anymore.”

She holds out a hand, and he shakes it. “Thank you.”

“Wow. That actually hurt for you to say.”

Jacobi nods. He sits down across from her at Renée’s huge darkwood table, and thinks about how she and Dominick must have bought this when they moved in together with plans to have people over for dinner every other night. Maybe even plans to have kids.

He wonders if Dominick ate at it alone while his wife was gone.

“So, you gone on that holiday yet?”

“No, actually. I’ve legally been dead for about seven years, so getting a passport is proving pretty tricky.”

“I can imagine.”

“Where have you been, anyway? We tried to get into contact with you. We drove down to your old apartment - got your address from the Goddard database - but it was cleaned out.”

Jacobi looks sheepish. “Yeah, well, I’d mostly been staying at Alana’s for the last few years or overnight at… yeah… so I’d not been a very good tenant and turns out they took ‘lost in space’ as the perfect opportunity to kick me out. So I’ve been sofa to sofa, on the streets a bit-”

“For heaven’s sake, Jacobi. We would have helped you, you stupid asshole! All you had to do was ask and you could have stayed here! Renee and Dominick would probably even let you have a cheese collection or whatever the fuck it was.”

“Guess the amount of drinks it takes for me to lose my pride is somewhere over eighteen?”

“How do you have a functioning liver?”

They sit in an almost comfortable silence for a few minutes, Isabel reopening her sketchbook.

“I never knew you drew.”

“You never knew me outside of a life-threatening situation.” Isabel sighs, twists the pencil between her fingers. “I don’t think I did. Before. The old ‘me’, I mean. But I was bored and I can’t get a job because of the ‘being dead’ issue, so I thought I should take up a hobby or something. Might be therapeutic. I’m not very good at it…”

“Can I see?”

“I, uh,” Isabel suddenly looks uncertain. “I drew her. Maxwell. I drew everyone, actually. Are you sure you want to look?”

“Yes.”

He leafs through the pages, at first simple doodles before branching into full portraits. Eiffel, upside down and smoking a cigarette. Hilbert, looking troubled at a shadow behind him he can’t quite see. Two ghostlike figures in lab coats staring out at the star, the man with a prophetic terror etched on his face - must be Isabel’s old crewmates. Mr Cutter smiles up at him with far too many sharp teeth in sharper lines where the pencil was pressed far too hard and he turns the page quickly. There’s Kepler, mid-whiskey speech and it almost stops his heart. He pauses. Maxwell.

In the picture, her eyes are shining as she stares at Hera’s console, fingers nothing more than a blur - the three-day stint she spent trying to get the AI online. Aside from the orange and blue of Wolf 359, elsewhere in the book Isabel has barely used colour, but here the room is bathed in a serene green light from the screens. Behind Maxwell, Jacobi sees himself, little more than a stocky, sketchy outline, waiting for her to finish.

He looks so proud of her.

He looks so… content.

After staring for a long moment, Jacobi closes the book and hands it back. “Thank you.”

“You can keep the pictures of them, if you like,” Isabel offers, but he doesn’t know whether he would like, so he says:

“Tell me about your crew.”

“What?”

“Your old crew. Tell me about them. Was Lambert the one staring at...?”

“No. No. No, that was Kuan Hui, our senior astrophysicist. He was whipsmart and funny and fearless, until the time Goddard Futuristics played around in his brain, stretched out his perception of time. He was completely alone in the dark for two weeks. His smile never really reached his eyes after that.”

Jacobi sips tea awkwardly, even though it’s cold.

“Something like that, it stays with you. At least he had Fourier, though.”

“That’s the woman behind him?”

“Junior physicist. Victoire Fourier had eyes like stars. Cleverest person I’ve ever met. She played six instruments, spoke four languages and she had the most gentle soul. She used to read to Hui when he got sick with Decima. Coughed up every organ in his body. I thought it would break her, but she was made of stern stuff. She vanished off the space station in the final days and I still don’t know what exactly happened to her-”

“I… do. If you want to know, I mean.”

Isabel shakes her head. Then pauses. Then shakes her head again. “I get the feeling whoever is to blame is long gone.”

Jacobi shrugs. “Who else?”

“Well, there was Mace Fisher. Fisher… Fisher died because of me, not Goddard Futuristics. Asteroid shower tore him from my hands. He had a boyfriend waiting at home. He was sensitive, sensible, grounding. A real older brother type. I- I didn’t deal particularly well with his death. Well, you know that much.”

((Pill popper!)) Jacobi gulps more cold tea.

“And Lambert?”

“Sam Lambert. Officer Samuel Lambert had a stick up his ass. He was whiny, and authoritarian, and he treasured his copy of Pryce and Carter more than Reneé and Kepler combined did. He drove me nearly insane, and I drove him likewise. The best second in command you could ask for. A damn good man. Sam got sick after Hui, so we knew what was coming. What it meant. He was brave, though. At first.”

((“C-Captain, please shoot me, please, it hurts, it hurts, Captain, please, I just want it to-”)

She falters.

“Lovelace?”

“Yup?”

“You know, it’s not even really about the Hephaestus. I keep… it’s insane, but I keep thinking about… I was an explosives guy for the Air Force. Before Goddard. A trigger failed and two men died. Andrews and Sullivan. I haven’t thought about them in years and suddenly-“

“They’re everywhere?”

There’s a sudden understanding between them.

“They’re everywhere. Them and Maxwell and Kepler. They’re in mirrors, in the back of my brain, around corners.”

“Flashes of them.”

“And if you just reach out far enough, maybe-“

“Maybe-“

“Maybe.”

((let’s go be monsters)), Jacobi’s brain echoes. He grits his teeth.

“Did it stop for you? When does it stop?” He finds himself asking. Isabel doesn’t answer.

[that-one-bi-wizard]

I finally wrote it fellas!! This one-shot is basically just Varian, Hugo, Jack, and Davey hanging out. That’s it. That’s what this is. 

Here’s the link to it on ao3

It’s also under the cut, so... yeah. Hope ya’ll enjoy it!

“Where are those two?”

Varian shrugged. “I don’t know. Do I look like their keeper to you?” 

The tall blonde rolled his eyes. “Oh and you call me the irresponsible one?”

“Both you and Jack,” Varian replied, not even looking up from his phone. “You two share one braincell.”

Hugo gave a faux look of offense. “Are you calling me stupid? I’m hurt.”

“Good.”

Just then, the taller boy felt a tug on his ponytail.

“Are we making fun of Hugo now? Fun.”

Varian finally looked up to see the two boys they were waiting for. The one who had pulled on Hugo’s hair was a chubby Latino boy and following him was his boyfriend, a tall pale boy. 

“About time,” Varian said, putting his phone in his coat pocket. “I just bought the tickets for the movie tonight.”

“Thanks, Hairstripe,” Jack said. “I owe ya one.”

“Sorry we’re late,” the taller boy said. “My professor kept me a little longer than expected.”

Varian opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by his own boyfriend. “Damn Dave, no need to make up excuses. If you hate us, then that’s totally fine.” Hugo smirked. 

David rolled his eyes. “Hey, can you blame me? The most I can say is that you’re tolerable. And that’s about it.”

Hugo snorted. “If that’s how ya feel, then your little Jackie there is on the same level of annoying as I am.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Yeah, I’m not annoying,” Jack said. “It’s called being charming.”

“Also debatable,” David said. He slung an arm around Jack’s shoulder. 

Varian smiled and shook his head. “Alright, well if we’re done screwing around, mind if we move this along. We got a movie in an hour and a half and I was thinking we could get dinner beforehand.”

“Yeah, let’s head out,” Jack said. “Jacobi’s is just around the corner, so we can eat there and head to the theater afterwards.”

“Sweet. Let’s go then.”

The two couples started on their way off campus and into the city. As they walked through the streets, the wind grew stronger. It was like someone had turned on a giant fan, blowing cold air right through New York. 

The four talked for a while about their classes and how their day was as they walked through the crowded sidewalks. 

Jack pulled up his hood and shoved his hands in his pocket. “Shit, if I woulda known how cold it was gonna get, I woulda brought a thicker jacket.”

“If you had a smarter brain, you would’ve known how cold New York gets in the winter,” Hugo said with a smile. 

Jack punched his arm. 

“Assault! I’ve been assaulted!” Hugo exclaimed over dramatically. “Babe, are you just gonna stand there and let me be assaulted like this?” 

“Why not? It’ll be entertaining,” Varian said with a shrug.

“Why must you hurt me like this?”

“For my entertainment.”

Another cool breeze blew. Hugo shuddered. “Damn, okay, maybe the cowboy has a point.”

“I told you, stupid,” Jack said, sticking his tongue out. 

“Does no one here respect me anymore?!” He sighed. “Well, at least there’s still Dave.”

“Respect is a strong word,” David said. 

The blonde trailed a finger down his cheek. “Look what you did. I’m crying now.”

“Good,” the other three said in unison. 

Hugo crossed his arms and muttered something under his breath. 

It wasn’t long before they arrived at Jacobi’s and took the spot they usually did when they ate together. It was a small booth near the back of the restaurant. David sat next to Jack while Varian took his seat next to Hugo. 

David removed his scarf. “Much better.”

“I know right? Winter came early this year,” Varian said, removing his beanie. “I checked the weather earlier today, and it’s supposed to get colder this week.”

“You two sound like such dorks,” Jack said with a smile. “If I wanted to hear about the weather, I woulda stayed home and watched the news… and then ignored it.”

“Mood.” Hugo nodded. 

“Well, what would you two like to talk about?” David asked. He crossed his arms. 

“I don’t know. Minecraft?”

“No.”

It wasn’t long before a waitress came over to their table and took their orders. As she left, Jack picked up David’s scarf and wrapped it around himself.

“Can I wear this?”

“Why?”

“I’m cold.”

David shrugged. “Sure.” He kissed Jack’s forehead.

Hugo glanced at them and down at Varian’s beanie. He picked up Varian’s hat. “Varian, can I-”

“No.” He pulled it away from him.

Hugo crossed his arms and huffed. “Fine, be that way. Let me freeze to death. Let’s see if you care when I get hypothermia. Then what? Then, you’ll be laughing.”

Varian rolled his eyes and handed the beanie to him. 

Hugo smiled. “Thank you, honey. I love you.”

The rest of dinner went by fairly normal. Jack and Hugo were cracking jokes and messing with each other as they usually did while Varian and David talked about studying for upcoming exams.

Afterwards, they left and started heading to the theaters to watch the movie Varian had bought tickets for. 

“Hugo, can I have my hat back?” Varian asked as they walked back out into the streets.

Hugo shook his head and held onto it. “No, it’s soft. Can I hold onto it for just a little longer?”

“Oh, okay, it’s not like I need it or anything,” Varian said sarcastically.

“Then, I see no problem.” Hugo smirked.

Varian reached up to get it, but Hugo moved before he could grab it.

“Hugo, give me my hat back!”

“Nope.” He continued to move out the shorter boy’s reach or swatted his hand away.

“Run Hugo!” Jack exclaimed. “He can’t catch you if you run!”

“Jackie, stop encouraging him or I’m taking my scarf from you,” David said.

Hugo grabbed Jack’s arm. “Run!”

The two of them sprinted ahead, dodging crowds as they did. They turned a corner and disappeared with the other two’s belongings.

“Idiots,” David muttered, shaking his head.

“Our idiots,” Varian said.

David nodded and smiled. “Mm-hm.”

The two walked in silence for a while, watching as their boyfriends ran up ahead of them. 

“We should probably go after them before they do something stupid.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

With that, the two ran after them.

[modernsocialmediaau]

who are you

February 28, 2015 2:30pm

" Lauren? " a woman's voice rang, it's like some type of dream. In Lauren's point of view, she's coming back into consciousness

" Lauren? " the voice adds again and Lauren finally opens her eyes which she immediately regrets seeing that she had a big ass flashlight pointed at her.

" There we go. " she chuckles and moves the flashlight out of her eyes, her oh so delicate eyes.

" Alright, so I assume you haven't been eaten all today? "she challenges

" You assume right, "

" Well, I recommend you eat and stay in here for quite a while. " she orders

" Will I get to perform tonight? "

" I advised you not to, but if you feel better then yes, and may I ask? " she pause and Lauren nods

" Is there something else on your mind because fainting should not be caused for only missing a couple of meals, at best you should've just been light headed. " she quizzes making Lauren nervous

" Aren't you a doctor? " Lauren tried to change the subject

" Yes, but I'm also a mother." she smiles

" I don't know. "

" I've got two teenagers living in my house, fasting usually comes from mood swings and mood swings often are due to love interest. " she hums

" Wha---whaa, " Lauren nervously chuckle

" So, mood swings and fasting check and check, who is the love interests?."

" Doc I really don-"

" Lauren humor me, okay. "

" No, I'm just-I have something in mind. " Lauren sighs knowing that she would not let go of the topic

" Which is? " she smiles

" I have a crush on my friend who iced me out of our friendship for awhile because of what some fans thought of us and she was pursuing this boy. But-well I think I might be even in love with her. Which makes me sick because all she ever did to me was break me but here I am telling you that I love her " Lauren covers herself with a pillow. Awaiting for her response but when Lauren removes the pillow she's simply waiting for Lauren.

" I know I'm not your mom but I've had my fair share of love affairs and if you don't let whatever you are feeling out willingly it'll find its way out.  " Lauren can't believer how easily she is able to confess this to a random person but not Ally and Dinah.

" Yea but out of the 7 billion people why her? "

" Alright what seems to be the problem? " she requests

" Well for one thing I'm not gay and neither is she. "

" So you're afraid of confronting her and your own sexuality. "

" Yes. "

" And the idea of keeping this big secret is making you anxious and paranoid. Which causes stress levels to go up. Now it all makes sense. "

" What do I do? "

" Tell her. " she simply said implying as if it were that easy

" Ugh. " Lauren quickly sits up and suddenly Lauren feels the familiar feeling of uneasiness and imbalance

" Sit down Lauren. " she grabbed my fore arm and guided me back onto the couch

" I can't. " I said

" You're also afraid of rejection, since you've gone through it before. But the thing is none of this will get easier. Not only will you're emotions take over, they will speak for themselves. "she smiles giving Lauren that mom smile

" Okay, so how do you advise I tell her? "

" Just be honest with her and don't drag it along. "

" What if we're not friends after? I can't exactly go another year of her ignoring me," Lauren anxiously rubs her wrist, and her anxiety comes back all over again

" You girls have gone through a lot, and besides it's not like she can quit. "

" Ok. Thank you Dr.-"

" Jacoby. " she smiles and begins packing her stuff

" Thank you. " Lauren replies

" Remember stay hydrated and eat. And if and I mean IF you feel better by the time of the show, go perform you're little heart out. But don't over do it," she asserts before leaving the room

Lauren wonders how much she's missed out on. She picks her phone up from the table and see's that it was already 3. That's when she realizes she's missed 3 hours worth of work.

Fuck.

Lauren decides to sit up but didn't feel good being up so high, so she lays back down. Lauren establishes to take a little catnap listening to music with a water bottle to her chest.

" Lo? " Camila whispers, but Lauren frankly didn't believe its her and decides to ignore her.

" Lauren? " she repeats herself and this time Lauren believes it is her

" Hey Camila. " Lauren croaks

" Do you feel better? "

" Yea, " Lauren weakly smiled

" Are you gonna perform tonight o-"

" Hell yeah I am. " she chuckles

" You are one bad bitch Lauren Michelle. " Dinah jokes making everyone laugh.

" Are you sure? " Camila interrupts the groups laughter and changes the vibe to a much serious one

" Sure about what? " Lauren questions taking the plate Normani is handing her

" Mhmmm, mac and cheese. " Lauren hums

" About performing tonight. " Camila repeats

" Yea she said I could, I just can't over do it. " Lauren laughs

" Girl you always over do it, " Dinah sasses snapping her fingers

" We all do, " Ally adds

As the girls eat and chat, Lauren see's a message from Will wondering if she can quickly go to the stage for a quick sound check. Lauren stands up, and excuses herself but Camila stops.

" Hey where are you going? " Camila worries

" I have to go to sound check. "Lauren laughs grabbing a water bottle, her phone, and throw outs her trash.

" Are you gonna be okay? " they announce in unison

" Uh yeah I think I'll manage. Meet you guys back here in 2 hours. "Lauren laughs rolling her eyes

" 2 hours it don't take that long. " Normani answers

" Yea but I also need to do make-up and buy a couple of things from Rite Aide. " Lauren responds

" Text me when your going to Rite Aide I need a couple of things too. " Normani winks and Lauren questions it but still nods her head.

Lauren leaves, the girls and scrolls through her phone as she is walking through the back. Will walks in front of Lauren stopping her in her tracks.

" Hey Will what's up? " Lauren is shock but also puts her phone down.

" The doctor said to be careful okay. " he reminds Lauren not wanting to have another panic attack

" I know,"

" Here Lauren, " the sound guy hands her, her ear piece and mic before carrying on with the sound check

" Thank you. " and we carried onto the sound check.

--

Lauren leaves the make up room and sends Mani a text letting her know she is ready for their trip to the convenience store.

As she waits for Normani she scrolls through her instagram or twitter to see if they made it public that she isn't feeling well. Thankfully it was a simple tweet from the Fifth Harmony twitter account, following up with another assurance.

@FifthHarmony One of the girls, had a bit of an accident backstage. We'll keep you guys posted

-Will

@FifthHarmony  And we're back everything is fine see you guys tonight

-Normani

" Hey sorry, " Normani runs into Lauren leaning up against the wall, while catching her breath

" Why are you running? "

" The girls and I got bored during dressing stuff so we played tag. " she simply answers as if it's a typical day in fifth harmony world

" Okay, well the Rite Aide is only around the corner so it won't take that-"

" Are you okay? " Mani interrupts

" Huh? I already told you guys. " Lauren chuckles and they start walking towards rite aid

" Lauren why did you faint? " she brings up

" Because I was hungry, "Lauren answers

" But that's- "

"I hadn't eaten since yesterday Normani it happens. "Lauren asserts not wanting to walk about this conversation anymore.

For the rest of the walk it was it was pure silence, until a fan would stop us for autographs and pictures . But other than that it was pure silence. It's not because I got sick of the topic of me, but it's just I'm tired of the constant pity being thrown at me. I am fine, I was hungry and stress.

" So I'm gonna tell Camila, " Lauren confesses making Normani trip on her feet and fall

•••

" What Mani? What did I do to her? I want to fix it. " Lauren cries

" Lauren I don't think you get it. " Normani sighs caressing Laurens head trying to calm and comfort her hurting friend.

" She's not talking to me what's not to get Mani? What? What did I do to her for her to just ignore me like this. " Lauren continues begging and pleading for answers.

" Wha- "

" You aren't doing anything wrong! " she interrupts pulling her

" But- "

" No! Listen to me? I don't know what's going on with her, but I sure as hell am positive you did nothing wrong. 3 months Lo I've watched the whole thing unfold and you have not done one thing wrong. " Normani explains bringing Lauren into another comforting hug but this time Lauren felt her tears on her shoulder. She began to cry with Lauren.

" Why? Why is she ignoring me. "

•••

" What? " Normani chokes while sitting on the floor

" Yeah, I think it's best. " instead of answering Lauren she stands up and picks her up

" Alright calm down. " Lauren smile

" When are you gonna do it? " Normani questions

" I don't know, probably when we get to Ft. Lauderdale. "

" Why there? "

" Well one I'll be near family so I won't feel alone. "

" You'll never be alone girl, " Normani sighs in relief giving Lauren a side hug

" Thanks Mani, and secondly I think it would be nice to see Luis plus I know he'll just have the right thing to say. "

" Exactly, and hey if you want me to be there I can be. "

" No I think I'd be best if I do this by myself. "Lauren smiles and continued to shop. It took 3 people for Lauren to finally decide to tell Camila, well a year of ignorance and 3 people. Lauren hopes that this all goes well, but it's still very much in faiths hands and its in the universe. Lauren has come to the conclusion where she doesn't need Camila to tell her she feels the same way or anything like that, she just needs the freedom.

[ston-rampler]

Every Battle Heads Towards Surrender On Both Sides

Whumptober Day 5! 

Prompt: Gunpoint

Daniel Jacobi & Alana Maxwell, 1598 Words, Gun Violence

Read on AO3

Alana Maxwell was the most amazing person that Daniel Jacobi had ever met. She had a passion in her that was unwavering, a drive that seemed endless, and was smarter than literally anyone else he knew. God was lucky she had dedicated her life towards developing AI from a young age, or else his position might be in jeopardy. Well, actually, it still might be.

When he first met her, she had been quiet. She had hair dyed firetruck red, but her posture suggested that the only thing she wanted was to blend in enough that she could do her work in peace. Kepler had introduced them rather hastily, surely wanting them to bridge that gap on their own. Sink or swim had always been his way of life and when the tides rose, Alana swam.

The two of them hardly spoke until their first mission, a rather tame one that sent them to the middle of fuck-ass nowhere, Wyoming. They drove out in a little unmarked black car through a barely-hanging on town and out to a deserted field surrounding a single house. The place was in shambles. It looked more like somewhere the local meth heads might go to shoot up than somewhere that would be of any importance to SI-5, but no matter how many questions Daniel asked, Kepler stayed silent and kept driving.

They pulled to a stop about a hundred yards out from the front porch, dust blowing past them in huge clouds. The house looked even worse from up close, slouching over like it was tired and twitching in the wind like it was one small sneeze away from collapsing in on itself. Weeds sprouted up from the floorboards of the porch and the cracked screen door swung wildly.

”And you’re sure that this is where the guy lives.”

Kepler sighed. “For the last time, Mr. Jacobi. I am positive that this is the right place. Thomas Sacco, fifty-six years old and a certified genius in the field of robotics. Former employee of Goddard Futuristics.” Ah, so it was like that, was it.

”Why in the world is this an SI-5 operation? Any hillbilly teenager with a shotgun could take a guy out in a place like this.”

”Unfortunately, the inside of the house isn’t likely to be as unassuming as the outside. On his way out, Sacco managed to steal an AI unit named ATÉ programmed to be a security program, and his recent financial transactions show that he’s been stocking up on firearms and ammunition, not to mention he’s an incredibly skilled engineer. I don’t doubt that he’d make protecting himself his top priority after leaving Goddard.”

”And I suppose I’m here to deal with the AI?” Alana asked from the backseat, startling Daniel a bit. That was the first full sentence she had said since they left the motel, and he had forgotten she was there. Kepler nodded.

”It certainly wasn’t their most advanced unit, but I have special orders from Miranda Pryce to bring it back intact, so we need it neutralized before it can take any defensive measures against us. From there, all that’s left is to terminate Sacco.” Alana pulled a small tablet out of her bag, opening up a program and starting to type furiously.

”No man smart enough to work for Goddard would be dumb enough to put the AI’s central processors outside of the house he was trying to protect, so I’m going to need to get in there before I can shut her off.” Daniel turned around in his seat to grin at her excitedly.

”Luckily for you, breaking and entering is our specialty.” The three of them made their way up to the house, guns in hand as they eyed the tall weeds suspiciously for any concealed traps. The rickety wooden porch in front of them looked like a disaster waiting to happen, and Kepler eyed it suspiciously before taking a tentative step up onto it. Right on cue, the sound of a whirring mechanism beneath the floorboards could be heard, and in a fraction of a second, the mail slot of the door popped open to reveal the barrel of a gun that shot off ten rounds in quick succession, the three of them only barely being able to avoid getting hit in the kidneys.

”Good lord,” Alana said, trying to catch her breath. “You really weren’t kidding, were you?” From inside the house came the muffled sound of a computerized voice.

”Security protocols engaged.”

”Well,” Daniel said, adjusting his grip on his gun. “Looks like it’s go time.”

Without ceremony, Kepler kicked in the flimsy wooden door, knocking over the gun’s mechanism in the process. Making their way inside, every square inch of the place seemed to be booby trapped, though the pattern became easy to see after a few rounds of narrowly-avoided bullets had been sprayed out at them. It was all on the floor, trip wires or concave floorboards that connected to holes in the wall that were actually pretty conspicuous. It didn’t take them long to dismantle most of them and Alana found the AI’s central processor inside the shell of an old refrigerator. Daniel and Kepler left her to her work, cautiously scaling the house’s suspiciously trap-free rickety stairs in search of Sacco.

”So, sir, what do you think of her?” Jacobi asked once they were sure she was out of earshot.

”She seems very promising, but this is her first mission and we’re not even through the day yet. Take care not to get too attached, Mr. Jacobi.” Jacobi scoffed.

”Me? Attached? Oh, perish the thought.” They cleared the second floor, with no sign of Sacco or any life at all, aside from a considerable number of spiders, when the sound of rapid gunshots came from below them. Kepler looked down the stairs, calculating, while Daniel darted down, unable to think of anything aside from the image of their new teammate lying on the floor in a pool of blood. The scene he was greeted with when he reached the floor wasn’t as gory, but it certainly wasn’t much better.

Alana had been yanked away from the fridge processor by a man with balding grey hair. He was tall and slightly pudgy, and he had one meaty arm around Alana’s skinny neck, the barrel of the handgun pressed to the side of her head.

”SI-5,” Thomas Sacco said, spitting the words out like they made a foul taste in his mouth. “Took you long enough to find me.” Daniel pointed his gun at the man who just tightened his grip on Alana in response.

”Nah, just fashionably late. We just we’d let you have a little fun with your rebellion before we came to crash the party,” he shot back. The man smiled sickeningly.

”I recognize you, little attack dog, though it’s unusual to see you without your handler.”

”Guess he decided you weren’t worth his effort.”

”Mr. Cutter still sent you all the way out here for little old me, though. Really, it’s an honor.”

”Actually, from what I can tell, Cutter doesn’t give two shits about what you’re doing. Said you were a pretty low-level threat.”

”You all must not be Goddard’s best and brightest anymore, then, so I suppose it’d be okay if I killed this one.” He jerked the arm that he had wrapped around Alana and shoved the gun harder against her temple. Her eyes were panicked, but Daniel could tell her brain was running at about a billion calculations per second. He swallowed thickly and hoped the man couldn’t see his uncertainty.

”You know, she’s still in her trial period actually, so if she died it would just mean she wasn’t cut out for the job,” Daniel said, trying his best to sound nonchalant even though his heart was trying its best to break out of his chest. “I’m sure Mr. Cutter would understand.” Daniel saw Alana’s eyes dart to the wall beside them, and then draw in a deep breath.

”Well,” Sacco said. “In that case, I guess I’ll go ahead and-” without warning, Alana ground her feet downwards and pushed Sacco back just a few inches. He grunted, a foot coming back to steady himself and landing itself right on top of a trip wire. Alana threw herself forwards just as a barrage of bullets found their way out of a hole in the wall and into Sacco’s head.

Alana landed on her knees, breathing heavily with her long hair hanging in front of her face. Daniel tucked his gun back into its holster and took a step towards her, offering a hand which she gladly took and hoisted her to her feet. Kepler strode down the stairs leisurely, surveying the scene in front of him and then giving Alana a sharp nod.

”Good work Maxwell. Is the AI ready to go?” She didn’t say anything, just nodded and tried to catch her breath. “Jacobi, pack it up and let’s get out of here.”

”Right.” Kepler strode out of the house and back towards the car, leaving the two of them by themselves. Jacobi approached the brick-TV-sized hunk of machinery that was the AI’s central processor and hoisted it up into his arms with a grunt.

”Well,” he said to Alana. “I guess we know that from now on, if you ever find yourself on the other end of a gun, you can handle yourself.” Alana looked back at him, her eyes still a bit wide.

”Yeah,” she said, with a disbelieving laugh. “I guess so.”

[waveridden]

FIC: living on your own time

“Mr. Kerchev is just married, and there’s nothing more that newlyweds love on honeymoons than other newlyweds to show off in front of.” Kepler arches an eyebrow, presumably to let everyone absorb that. (W359 undercover as married AU, 3.1k)

A/N: this is actually a chunk of an abandoned WIP from a handful of months ago. I decided to rework the opening scene into something presentable. The longer fic, if it’s ever finished, would be Minkowski/Lovelace and Eiffel/Jacobi, with a little bit of Eiffel/Jacobi even shining through in this scene. (What can I say? I’m biased.)

AUcember || title lyric || read on ao3

#

“Ladies, gentlemen.” Kepler looks around the room. “What do you know about the Ukrainian mob? And Agent Eiffel, don’t say that you know they’re from Ukraine.”

Eiffel closes his mouth just long enough to frown. “That’s a legitimate piece of knowledge, sir, I think it’s to my credit that I- ow. ”

“Whoops,” Hera says cheerfully, and lifts her heel so it’s not crushing Eiffel’s big toe anymore. She’s smiling, which is the worst part. Smiling like she knows that she’s embarrassing him in a mission briefing. Smiling like she doesn’t care, which is even worse. It’s the ultimate betrayal.

Kepler doesn’t even acknowledge them. Consummate professional, that guy. “Of course, we have local mob chapters all over the country, but the main boss-”

“-is in Ukraine,” Eiffel finishes triumphantly, but this time it’s Minkowski who elbows him in the ribs. “Hey!”

“Time and a place,” Lovelace says mildly, from where she’s practically draped over one of Maxwell’s fancy touch-screen computer tables. Which is totally unfair, because if it were Eiffel, Maxwell would’ve pushed him on the floor by now.

“The time is now!” Eiffel protests. “We’re talking about the Ukrainian mob! There’s no better time!”

“I can duct tape his mouth shut if you want,” Jacobi offers, which, again, definitely unfair. If Eiffel said something about duct taping Jacobi’s mouth shut, Hera would make fun of him for having an oral fixation, and Kepler definitely wouldn’t make a face like he’s considering it. Eiffel tries to glare, but Jacobi just sort of smirks at him. “Solve a couple problems.”

After a couple seconds, Kepler sighs. “Just keep poking at him until he stops trying?”

Eiffel rolls his eyes, but Minkowski and Hera both say “yes, sir” in eerie unison, so it must not be worth the effort of arguing.

“Good,” Kepler says. “The Ukrainian mob - which is based in Ukraine, thank you, Agent Eiffel - is helmed by this man.” Maxwell, standing at Kepler’s side, hits a button, and a couple of images pop up on the massive display screen. It’s a blond white guy, early thirties, with that creepy dead-eyed stare that most mob bosses have. “Mr. Yevgeni Kerchev, who likes to cause a lot of trouble by dealing arms.”

“Seems young,” Lovelace says, propping her chin up on one palm. Her eyes narrow. “Let me guess, inherited?”

“Correct, Agent Lovelace.” Maxwell hits another button, and another image comes up, this time a family photo. “Here we have Mr. Kerchev, with his recently deceased father Piotr and his missing-in-action brother Viktor. This is all speculation, of course, but we’re pretty sure that Yevgeni killed both his father and his brother in order to take over the operation.”

“Mr. Kerchev is on watchlists all over the country. CIA, FBI, NSA, anything with three letters. Hell, the EPA probably has it out for him.” Kepler’s eyes sharpen. “He’s also stolen proprietary Goddard tech to redistribute.”

Hera whistles lowly. “I didn’t know you could steal from Goddard.”

“Generally, you can’t.” Jacobi frowns at the screen, eyes narrowing. “How’d he get away with it?”

“Mob connections, probably.” Maxwell’s mouth twitches. “Probably went all Godfather on some employee.”

Eiffel jolts upright, a slow grin already spreading across his face. “They made someone an offer they couldn’t refuse?”

Jacobi glares at Maxwell, who already looks sheepish. “You had to enable him?”

“Oh, don’t hold out on me now, Doctor.” Eiffel clasps his hands together. “Please, tell me more about Mr. Kerchev sneaking a horse’s head into Rachel Young’s bed.”

“You had to enable him,” Kepler repeats heavily, and this time Maxwell shrugs. “Fine. The point is, our goal is to bring Kerchev in as soon as possible. And luckily for us, it looks like we have an opportunity.”

“Wedding bells are ringing for Mr. Kerchev.” Maxwell hits another button, and a few more pictures pop up, all of Yevgeni Kerchev with a pretty blonde woman. “Meet Natalie Delight, and yes, that’s her real last name.”

“The YouTuber?” Minkowski says dubiously.

“Who taught you what YouTube is?” Eiffel demands. He recognizes her, now that he has a career to put to the face. “Hera, did you-”

“Me, actually,” Lovelace drawls, looking immensely pleased with herself. “Someone’s got to teach our good commander how to entertain herself online.”

“Remember before we worked with them?” Maxwell sighs, slanting a longing look at Jacobi. Even Kepler looks a little wistful, which hurts maybe more than it should. “Back in the good old days, when we would’ve been done with the mission briefing by now.”

“Already be on the next flight to Ukraine,” Jacobi mumbles.

“Not Ukraine,” Kepler says. “If you all don’t mind terribly, I’d like to get you sent on your merry way, so if you could let Dr. Maxwell and I finish with your mission briefing-”

“Aye-aye, sir,” Eiffel says, and doesn’t even protest when Hera lifts a hand to close her fingers over his mouth. He doesn’t even lick her palm, because that’s the kind of chivalrous guy and good employee that Doug Eiffel is.

“Go on, sir,” Hera says, and lifts her other hand to cover the first for good measure.

Kepler doesn’t smile, but Eiffel kind of gets the impression that he’s pleased anyways. “Natalie Delight has just married Yevgeni Kerchev, and they’re going on a honeymoon. South of France, lovely spa resort, vineyard attached, very remote. They’ll be there for ten days, and that’s ten whole days where Kerchev will be out in the open for us to find.”

Minkowski leans forward. “Sir, is this an assassination or an extraction?”

“Extraction, if possible. We don’t know what Kerchev did with the weapons he stole from Goddard, and we want them back.”

“Extraction,” Lovelace repeats. “Undercover?”

“Undercover. Mr. Kerchev is just married, and there’s nothing more that newlyweds love on honeymoons than other newlyweds to show off in front of.” Kepler arches an eyebrow, presumably to let everyone absorb that.

Eiffel glances around the room. If they need newlyweds, then they need two people. Hera never goes on missions, by virtue of technically not being trained for that, and with something this secretive Kepler will probably want Maxwell to stay in Canaveral.

And of course, SI-5 mission assignments are always… erratic, to say the least. Eiffel’s not really trained for any of this, but he’s still gone undercover more than once, so there’s a good chance that he’ll be going again. As far as partners go, Minkowski’s kind of an awful liar and Jacobi is about as subtle as a flaming sledgehammer, so that leaves…

“Dibs on Lovelace,” Eiffel says, even though it’s muffled by both of Hera’s hands. She grimaces, but digs her fingers into his cheek and holds on. “Hey!”

Kepler arches an eyebrow. “Something you want to share with the class, Agent Eiffel?”

Hera reluctantly pulls her hands away, and Eiffel grins. “Dibs on Lovelace?”

“It’s cute that you think it’s your choice,” Maxwell says, “but yes, that’s the plan. You and Agent Lovelace will be going undercover as newlyweds honeymooning at this resort.”

Eiffel grins over at Lovelace, who smiles back at him, looking pleased. Sure, everyone on this team likes to act like he doesn’t know what he’s doing, and sure, they’re normally right. But something about working with Lovelace makes him better at his job. Probably something to do with them actually being friends.

“What do you say, Isabel?” Eiffel wiggles his eyebrows, and she rolls her eyes at him. “Wanna get hitched?”

“Mm, I think I’m the one who proposed.” Lovelace glances at Hera. “Can we make that official?”

“I can make that official,” Hera says, because she is Eiffel’s best friend, and by extension his greatest enemy. “Congratulations on the engagement. And the wedding. I was Eiffel’s best man, of course.”

Eiffel beams at her. “Aw, baby, you know I wouldn’t have anyone else.”

Maxwell clears her throat, and all eyes go to her. She looks excited. Unnervingly so. “Sir?”

“Because this is such a high-priority mission, we need as many agents as possible in the field.” Kepler inclines his head. “Hera, obviously, you’re staying here with me, and Maxwell is staying because she has more than enough other projects to work on. So Jacobi, Minkowski, mazel tov.”

“No,” Jacobi says sharply. “No, sir, you can’t-”

“I’m going to have to object too,” Minkowski says, looking a little green around the gills. “You don’t mean-”

“I do mean.” Kepler fixes Minkowski with a placid look, and Maxwell has to hide her smile behind her remote. “Jacobi, Minkowski, the two of you will be going undercover with Eiffel and Lovelace. This is too serious to let go because you two are squeamish about it, do you understand?”

“Colonel,” Eiffel breathes, “it’s not even my birthday and you’ve given me the greatest gift of all.” Minkowski glares at him, but Eiffel can’t even bring himself to care. This is it. He’s died and gone to heaven, which must be real after all, because now he gets to watch Minkowski and Jacobi have to act like people. People in love. People in love with each other. “Hera, am I dreaming?”

“Maybe,” Hera whispers back. “But probably not.”

“Why do I have to be with Minkowski?” Jacobi demands. “Why can’t I be with Lovelace?”

“Eiffel called dibs,” Maxwell says, which is completely true. Eiffel knew he liked her for a reason. Maxwell is Eiffel’s favorite now. “That, and we’re pretty sure she’s the least likely to go stir crazy and kill him while you’re living together for ten days.”

“Minkowski’s really not my type. And for that matter, neither is Lovelace.”

“Do you want to be married to Eiffel for a week and a half?”

Eiffel carefully looks just over Jacobi’s shoulder, so it doesn’t look like he’s invested in hearing the answer. Because that would be desperate, and Eiffel isn’t desperate.

“Maybe Minkowski won’t be so bad,” Jacobi allows grudgingly, and Eiffel doesn’t let his face fall. He refuses. Hera bumps her hip against Eiffel’s, and he bumps her back, because there’s not much else to do in a moment like this.

“If only so Eiffel doesn’t die,” Minkowski agrees. Eiffel rolls his eyes. One of these days, these people are going to get tired of giving him shit. It hasn’t happened yet, but it has to one day.

“Congratulations on your vows,” Kepler says, with all of the infinite patience of someone who is very, very close to snapping at them all. “Eiffel, Lovelace, you’re our A-team on this. You’re going to make sure Kerchev is complacent and comfortable and having the time of his life, do you understand?”

“Yessir,” Eiffel says quickly, and Lovelace nods.

“Minkowski, Jacobi, you’re backup. You only contact Kerchev and Delight through Eiffel and Lovelace, never directly. You are there for intelligence, and you are there to make sure things don’t go wrong. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” Jacobi grits out. If nothing else, Eiffel can appreciate the fun shade of puce that his face is turning right now.

“Excellent.” And just like that, the vein bulging in Kepler’s neck goes from “meltdown imminent” to “meltdown might be happening next Thursday.” Eiffel barely avoids sighing in relief. “You’re leaving for your honeymoon bright and early tomorrow morning, so get packed. Maxwell already emailed out your supply lists, and we’ll have some waiting for you once you get to France. Remember, you have ten days.”

“It’ll only take four,” Jacobi promises. Minkowski mutters something in agreement.

“Eiffel’s going to help me review comm devices,” Hera announces, and grabs him by the elbow. For such a tiny woman, she has hands of iron. It’s one of the things he loves about her, although maybe not in this moment. “Right, Doug?”

“Right,” Eiffel says, because he’s not about to argue with Hera about this. “Colonel, permission to check up on the comms array?”

Kepler nods. “Dismissed, both of you. Make sure you have something that’ll work well long-distance. You never know what kind of situations you’ll run into.”

Eiffel flicks off a quick salute before Hera starts tugging him towards the door. “Hey, Lovelace, wanna go ring shopping later?”

“I’d rather shave my legs with a potato peeler,” Lovelace answers blithely, ignoring Eiffel’s full-body shudder, because ew. “Goddard’ll have rings for us, right? We kind of need them.”

“We have a selection of standard-issue fake wedding rings,” Maxwell confirms, which is maybe the strangest sentence that Eiffel has ever heard come out of her mouth. She’s starting to say something else when Hera drags Eiffel out of the room and shuts the door behind her.

“Well,” Eiffel says slowly. He gets the feeling that he’s missing something here. “Comms room?”

“Comms room,” Hera agrees. “Great place to avoid being overheard.” She starts down the hall, moving so fast that it takes Eiffel aback.

He waits until he pulls the comms room door closed to look at Hera. “What?”

“What, me?” Hera frowns. “How about what, you?”

“What me?”

“Jacobi?”

Eiffel grimaces. “Yeah, that wasn’t the best.”

“That was totally unfair of him,” Hera says nobly, which, okay, that might not be true. Eiffel doesn’t have the best track record with undercover missions, but Hera probably doesn’t care about that. She’s definitely the best friend that Eiffel has ever had: she’s smart as a whip, she’s a good listener, and she is completely devoted to defending his honor even when he doesn’t deserve it.

“Maybe,” Eiffel hedges, but apparently that’s not enough, because she glares at him. “What? The guy’s allowed to not want to marry me for the sake of taking down a Serbian mobster-”

“Ukrainian.”

“Don’t tell Kepler I said that.”

“After your whole ‘I know he’s from Ukraine’ bit?” Hera snorts.

Eiffel winces. “Not my finest moment.”

He’s never going to admit it to anyone other than Hera, who already knows all his darkest secrets, but he kind of wants Kepler to like him. It’s partly a self preservation thing, because he gets the impression that people Kepler doesn’t like go away and are never heard from again. But it’s also because he’s pretty sure everyone else on the team likes him. Even if it’s the awkward, begrudging kind of liking that people start out with, they still like him. Kepler doesn’t seem to like anyone, but Eiffel’s going to try his best anyways. Because that’s what doing his job is all about. Or something.

Hera waves him off. “You’ll have another moment soon, don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you?”

“You’re welcome.” She flashes a smile at him, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Okay, we actually do need to do our jobs-”

“Do we?”

“Yes, Douglas, so pick a comms array for when you head off to France.”

“Alright, geez.” Hera only calls him Douglas when she’s patronizing him, or as a codeword something’s gone horribly wrong. He’s actually not sure which one of those situations is happening right now. But he gives it a minute, just to feel it out. He starts going through their communications devices - they need something that prioritizes the short-range, but Kepler was right about the long-distance - and settles on one of the newer models, setting it on the table in the middle of the room. “Think these’ll work?”

Hera, who seems to be settled in staring at the door, doesn’t even look. “Mmmhm.”

“Do you know what I’m talking about?”

“You don’t need me to tell you how to do your job, do you?”

Eiffel pauses. “Nnnnnnno?”

“Do you think those will work?”

He looks down at the case. “Probably?”

“Then they’re yours.”

“Hera, what’s-”

“Nothing!” Hera whirls around and slams her hands on the table. The comms room is small enough that the smack echoes, and Eiffel has to try not to flinch. “You know, maybe I’m trying to- to have your back on this whole Jacobi thing, which I still don’t get, by the way-”

“You don’t need to get it,” Eiffel mumbles, but shuts his mouth as soon as Hera’s eyes sharpen.

“Maybe I don’t need to get it, but I’m still trying to back you up with all this, and you don’t even seem bothered by it!” She folds her arms, and suddenly she looks far too small. “Maybe it’s bothering me, and I don’t know why it’s not bothering you that this is happening.”

Eiffel blinks. “This isn’t about Jacobi.”

She looks away, and Eiffel lets out a long breath. Of course it’s not about Jacobi. This is going to be the first time he’s going undercover since… since.

“Hera,” he says softly, and goes around the table so he’s closer to her. “All four of us are going to have a direct line to you and Alana the whole time.”

“The whole time,” Hera repeats, not quite mocking, and it feels like a fist wraps around Eiffel’s heart and squeezes. “Yeah, nothing’s gonna go wrong.”

Eiffel snorts. “Darlin’, something’s going to go wrong, and you and I both know it.”

She shoots a glare at him, which is completely undercut by how watery her eyes are. “Then why aren’t you worried?”

“Because I’m going to spend the whole time partnered up with Isabel, who’s one of the best people to have in a crisis. And Minkowski and Jacobi are going to be there, and they’re the best backup. And best of all-” he reaches out and rests his hands on her shoulders, as lightly as he can, and she relaxes into it - “you’re gonna be in my ear making sure that I don’t do anything too stupid.”

“You’d better not.”

“I’ll try my best.” Eiffel grins. “I’ll call you every night.”

Hera’s face relaxes into a smile, and Eiffel’s lungs collapse with relief. “You think your wife’s going to like that?”

“You know, I get this funny feeling that she’ll understand.”

“Every night,” she says seriously. “Last thing before you go to bed, no matter how late it is.”

“What’s the time difference between Canaveral and France?”

“Enough that you’ll be calling me and the other way around.”

Eiffel smiles and squeezes Hera’s shoulders. “Every night and twice on weekends.”

“Good,” Hera says, and steps forward to bury her face in the crook of Eiffel’s neck. “Come back.”

“I will.”

“Without the bad parts this time.”

“I will,” Eiffel repeats, and hopes more than anything that it’s not an empty promise.