Lady Bess

Detroit wasn’t a million miles away, but the decision to get there by road rather made it feel like you were headed to a different country altogether. For the sake of your cover, it didn’t make sense to use the Statesman jet. If there were links to The Golden Circle operation at this resort, there was nothing to say that you wouldn’t be scrutinised if you didn’t appear ‘normal’, by whoever it was you were looking for. You had to be seen to be turning up in your beaten up car, together. Life might be different for you since becoming an agent, but you hadn’t totally lost your grip on reality yet. 

Ginger had done more digging into the resort, as well as the two unfortunate souls that had landed within the Statesman labs the other night - both of whom succumbed to their poisoning before they’d had a chance to wake up. It was a somber phone call you’d received from her last night while working at your desk, her voice shaky as she delivered the news. Ginger and her team had worked tirelessly to stabilise the two victims, but unfortunately it was a little too late. 

But that just meant your next mission would be even more important. You knew from research that your victims worked together, but that they had also been having an affair. It seemed like they had used the work trip as an excuse to be together without prying eyes from their home town seeing them. Texts between the couple indicated that they were approached by someone at the resort, promising that they could get them something which would make their affair a more "exhilarating experience”. 

You’d surmised that whoever was behind all of this was targeting those who seemed troubled - in the days that lead up to the couple’s trip, it seemed that Stephanie was debating calling the whole thing off. 

“She sent Max a message saying she couldn’t deal with the stress of hiding their affair any longer, and that perhaps they should stop seeing each other”, Ginger had explained. But for whatever reason, it seems that she never did. The couple went away together, and that’s when they were seemingly targeted for the laced narcotic. 

You and your team had worked tirelessly the past couple of days to ensure that you and Jack had concrete alibis going into this mission. Based on what you knew about your victims, you would be going in as a couple dealing with marital issues, and you were using this retreat as a way to ‘reconnect with one another’. You hoped that whoever was behind this operation would see the two of you, and decide to take advantage of your state. 

Ginger’s research into the database of the resort showed that over 85% of their guests checked in and described themselves as couples, so your cover wouldn’t be questioned in that regard. You just had to now make yourselves appear to be in the throes of marital distress - a daunting task, given the recent developments between you and Jack…

It hadn’t been your first choice at a cover story, especially given the history you and Jack now found yourself sharing. Even Astrid had tried to dissuade Tequila when he made the link and suggested that this be the tactic you tried. But without being able to tell Tex why she didn’t think it was a good idea, her argument fell as flat as your own, and you found yourself going along with it. 

Telling Jack had been fun. He’d gone coy standing at his door last night when you’d handed him his undercover documents - everything he needed to remember about his new character, the backstory, the reason you two would be there. Everything. 

“We’ll be pretending to be a couple,” you’d explained, sighing slightly as you saw Jack’s brow knit together, “It was Tequila’s idea.”

“I’ll kill him,” Jack had scoffed, secretly struggling with the pact you two had made just days before, to not be romantically involved anymore. You’d shrugged. 

“In his defence, I think he’s onto something”. 

The seven hour trip gave both you and Jack rather too much time to ponder over the events of the last few days - so much had happened in such a short amount of time, you were constantly playing catch up. You felt like you spent a lot of the last few days in an out of body experience, a spectator to your own life, watching it play out like you were watching a poorly written rom-com. Constantly questioning the “will they, won’t they” trope you saw time and time again, knowing what the result would inevitably be. 

Except in this rom-com, the ending was unclear. 

And there was nothing which frustrated you more. 

You glanced over at Jack briefly, whom you’d not spoken to in just over an hour. Your fingers had padded over the pages of your file for long enough now that you could feasibly play your silence off as just being observant, but you knew Jack would already know that you already had every detail memorised. 

He looked strangely calm, which put you slightly at ease. After his disgruntlement last night, you expected that he’d be more on edge - or perhaps you were just projecting your own unsettlement. Who knew?

All wonder ceased though when Jack broke the long-held silence with a simple question. 

“Y’allright, sugar?” he asked, his head turning briefly to properly look at you, the current stretch of road ahead straight enough for him to turn away for a moment. 

“Yeah, I’m just-” you tapped the file, “memorising,” you lied. Jack chuckled, seeing right through your ruse. 

“Sugar, you’re a fantastic agent, but your lying sucks sometimes,” he grinned, now looking back at the road, “I know you’ve got that file memorised back to front, so don’t bullshit me. What’s going on in that head of yours?”. 

Sometimes you hated how well you knew Jack, and how much he could read you like an open book. 

“I suppose I’m worried about the mission,” you sighed. 

“You mean because of me being involved?” he asked. Truthfully, you hadn’t given that much thought. The fact that this was Jack’s first partnered undercover mission since he came back to Statesman hadn’t really crossed your mind. You felt a pang of guilt twist in your stomach as you realised you probably should have taken that into consideration much more than what you had. 

“Not overly, no. I know how hard you’ve worked, and you wouldn’t have been signed on to do this if you weren’t alright,” you reasoned, which wasn’t a lie. You knew better than anyone at Statesman how much Jack had worked for this, and he really was ready for this final push back into the life he once led. 

“Then what is it?” he asked. 

“It’s silly,” you scoffed, “don’t worry about it”. 

“Hey,” Jack turned back to face you, “If it’s on your mind, I wanna know. That’s what partners are for, right?”. 

Partners. A word so mundane but yet it somehow felt like a bullet to the stomach with the significance of it now. You wondered if Jack felt even remotely the same as you…

“That’s the issue, I guess. Not that we are partners, but the nature of this mission and how-,” you swallowed, “close, we’ll have to be. Given everything I guess it’ll just be a strange adjustment”. 

Jack smiled taut before focusing back on the road. He turned off at the next junction, then reached across and set his hand on your thigh. He softly squeezed your leg, and at his touch a jolt of electricity surged through your body. 

“It won’t be easy, sugar. But we’re good agents, and I’m sure we can put things to one side for the sake of this, yeah?”. 

Yeah, sure.

“Of course we can,” you smiled, “It might just take a while to adjust to”. 

“Well, I hope you’re ready to find out if that’s the case,” Jack moved his hand and placed it on the gear stick, "Because we’re here”. 

You hadn’t been paying attention to the scenery, choosing to instead vacantly stare at the passing landmarks whenever you turned your attention to the window, but otherwise you’d been totally disassociating most of the way here. It had totally passed you by that you were now driving up the long winding driveway to the resort, a large white building that appeared to be an old country manor house. 

The surroundings to the main building saw it nestled amongst pine trees of various heights, rolling green hills, and an array of natural flowers littering the grass. It was clear that there was a gardener on staff who took great pride in their work, and the closer Jack drove the more pristine the surroundings became. 

“Blimey,” you muttered to yourself, watching on in awe as you got towards the resident parking area, which even here the smallest detail had been considered carefully. Jack parked the car in a space which had been reserved for “Mr. & Mrs. Jameson”, the name that your cover story has bestowed upon you both. Admittedly you’d chuckled at the surname, given the ironic connection of the name Jameson to Jack Daniels, when it came to whiskey brands. 

“You still finding the name funny, sugar?” Jack asked, his teeth flashing through the playful grin he shot towards you at the sound of your laughter. 

“Maybe a little. I still can’t believe your folks didn’t make the connection with your name when they named you,” you giggled. 

“They did, actually,” Jack’s smile remained still, but there was a hint of coldness towards it now, “But that’s a story for later. Come on now!”. 

And on that ending note, Jack leapt out the car faster than you’d ever seen him move. You wondered, as you unclasped your belt and opened your own door, what possibly you could have touched on to warrant such a response. 

But, as he said, that was a story for later.

~~~

Your room was…cosy, to say the least. If you were an actual couple, there would be no issues at all. A nice double bed sat central in the room, surrounded by plush carpets and small drawers for your belongings. A bathroom went off to the left of the room, and at the foot of the bed was a small seating set up, with a chaise lounge and a few chairs. 

“Well, it could be worse,” you remarked as you stepped in, avoiding the obvious issue that was going to be you two sharing a bed for a few nights.

“I’ll take the floor,” Jack said, dropping his bag next to the lounge at the end of the bed, not even giving you a moment to bring the topic up yourself. 

“You’ll what?” you said. 

“There’s only one bed, sunshine. So unless you wanna be cozied up to ol’ Jack, I’ll take the floor,” he said, a glint in his eye and a small smirk forming under his moustache. You scoffed and shook your head. It might be a touch awkward at first, but you couldn’t have one of you compromised on this mission by not getting a good sleep. 

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. We’re both adults, and the bed looks plenty big enough. I’m sure we can amicably share. Besides, we’ll be here at least a few nights. Your back will be shot if you spend more than a few hours on the floor,” you said. 

“Only if you’re certain?” Jack said. 

“I am. Come on, pick a side,” you giggled, “Or else I remind you how old you’re getting!”.

“Bitch,” Jack sniggered, and at that you laughed back with him as you threw a spare item of clothing at him in jokey retaliation.  

You’d arrived fairly late in the afternoon, so there wasn’t all that much time to really get to know the place today. If you were being honest, you were also both exhausted from the trip that any reconnaissance today would likely be utterly useless, as almost as soon as you’d unpacked there was a weight which fell over you both. 

Settling on an early evening, you’d freshened up quickly before setting off out of your room, donning your new names for the first time in search of dinner. Just a few corridors away from your room was one of the three dining rooms on offer here, and as your waiter sat you down at a corner table, you breathed a short sigh of relief as you looked around to see it wasn’t all that busy. 

The two of you made polite conversation while scoping out the area, making a mental note of any particular guests who stood out to you, while you dined. Any time someone walked into ear shot, Jack made sure to divert a conversation towards something a married couple might discuss - property value, kid’s college fund, what your rude neighbour was doing in their back garden recently. 

You had to admit, you were much more impressed with Jack than you anticipated. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he’d be good at undercover work, but his ability to switch from himself to his cover in nanoseconds was admirable. You smiled softly at him when the two of you came to leave, Jack unable to resist resting his hand on the small of your back as you walked out the restaurant. 

Like a proper couple. 

Entering your room, you hit the shower first. So far this resort had proven to be every bit as fancy as you imagined it would be, and the bathroom didn’t disappoint. With white marble tiles everywhere (even on the ceiling!), a waterfall shower donned with fresh eucalyptus, and complimentary toiletries that, after Googling, you found cost over twenty dollars each at retail price - you were in heaven. Taking full advantage of every amenity, you came out wrapped in the room’s robe feeling fresh as a daisy. Jack chuckled as he saw you padding across the room to get your nightwear, his cue to make himself scarce. 

“Enjoyed that shower, did we?” he asked, standing up from the chaise lounge and heading towards the bathroom. 

“You may mock, but wait until you’ve used that shower!”.  

One outfit change later, you slipped under the covers and pulled out one of your books to pass the time. You flicked through a few pages of your book while you waited for Jack to get ready for bed. It wasn’t the most riveting read there was, but you refused to leave a book unfinished, so you persisted with it. If nothing else it provided you with a distraction you much needed today. Even though you meant what you said, that it would be ridiculous for one of you to sleep on the floor during your time here, that didn’t mean you weren’t internally freaking out about the proximity you’d find yourself and Jack. 

Snapping you out of your train of thought, your book doing little to distract you, Jack stepped out of the en-suite and headed over to the bed. Smiling faintly at you as your eyes flitted up from the pages of your book, he walked towards you clutching the clothes he’d worn today against his chest, before leaning down and setting them in his suitcase. 

You didn’t mean to gawk at him, but seeing Jack in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt had your mind racing the second he leant down. You admired the strength in his legs, how nice his ass was, and the small flash of skin that revealed itself as his shirt went slack around his hips. It had been a long time since you’d seen him dressed like this, and it wasn’t easy to forget how that ended…

“Hey, you can say no, but I tend to be a ‘sleep naked’ kind of guy. Obviously I won’t be doing that,” he chuckled, standing back up again to face you, “but do you mind if I at least lose the sweatpants?” Jack asked, snapping you back into the present moment. 

“No, no, of course not! You can lose the shirt too, if you like,” you said, not really thinking how that sounded. Jack smirked and quipped his eyebrow up at you, a small chuckle in the back of his throat and he slid the sweatpants down his legs. 

“Oh, can I now?” he teased. 

“No, I- I didn’t mean- it’s just-,” you sighed, putting your book to one side, “Fuck, I made that sound much hornier than I meant,” you laughed nervously, your face burning. 

“I’m only messing with you, Whiskey,” he winked, swinging his legs off the floor and into bed, “I’ll be fine like this, I promise. But if I get too hot, it’s good to know the option is there,” he smiled softly. 

“What are you wearing, anyway?” Jack said, lifting the covers up to reveal your choice of nightwear. Nothing fancy, and certainly nothing provocative. Light grey shorts with a matching vest, and fluffy socks to pair with the outfit. Jack chuckled as he put the covers down. 

“Nice socks, agent,” he teased. You gently slapped his arm. 

“You won’t mock me for them when they’re the only thing saving you from my ice cold feet!” you said. Jack did a proper belly laugh at that. 

“Fine, fine! I’m sorry for mocking your socks,” he chuckled. 

“Fuck you, Jack,” you laughed. “Come on, we best get to sleep. Rumour has it that the spa in this place is world class, so I’ve made us appointments first thing tomorrow. I imagine if we’re going to find anyone related to this case, that’s the ‘hip’ place they’ll be hanging out”. 

Jack grunted in disdain as you turned your bedside lamp off and shuffled down under the covers. You turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. 

“What?” you asked. Jack turned off his lamp and slid down into bed with you. 

“Spas are not exactly my kind of scene,” he said, mirroring you by turning off his light and laying down under the covers next to you. You chuckled at his comment, pulling the covers up to your chin and turning to look at him. Only the faint light from a streetlamp outside provided any illumination inside the room, so his features all but disappeared before your own eyes. 

“Yeah, well, they’re gonna have to be. At least for an hour,” you said. 

“Fine!” Jack huffed, rolling over to face you in bed. 

You chuckled under your breath at the absurdity of his attitude, when a warmth on your face interrupted you. Delicate fingers danced across your cheek, and you realised Jack was softly caressing your cheek. 

Part of you wanted to give in, and you found yourself instinctively leaning into his hold, even just for a moment. But then the pang of hurt hit you as you remembered all the reasons why this couldn’t happen, even for a short time…

“Jack…,” you whispered, your eyes screwed up in frustration. 

“What, sugar?” he asked. 

“We can’t…,” you said. “Not here.” You reasoned with yourself that this implied you weren’t totally shutting him down. The ball was entirely in his court, really, but you still had to try and keep your agreement going. 

You felt his hand withdraw almost as fast as if he had been electrocuted. 

“Sorry, I- I didn’t mean-,” he stammered, panic setting in that he’d crossed a line. 

“Hey, shh, it’s okay,” you smiled, reaching forward and gently clasping his hand in yours. “I just…I want nothing more than that. But we’ve got to be rational. It was you yourself who said about us not doing more for the time being, right? Got to stick to that and keep you with it.”

“You’re right,” he nodded, “I’m sorry,” he sighed, “I just forget myself around you. You make me want to forget about it all and just…throw caution to the wind”. 

“Don’t be sorry, Jack. We’ve just got to be sensible.”

The reasoning sucked, and you hated to give it. There was nothing you wanted more than to give into the feelings you’d had brewing under the surface with Jack for all this time, and to use this opportunity tonight to submit to the lust and need that existed between you. His hand tightly gripped yours and your faces were so close, it would be so easy to lean in and catch his lips in a kiss, to pull him on top of your body and to let him have you. 

But you couldn’t. 

“I know,” he sighed, “God I hate how fucked up in the head I am. Anyone else would be able to do both, why can’t I?” he asked, almost pleading, letting you know that was not a rhetorical question. He absolutely needed assurance right now. 

“Hey, come on now,” you spoke in hushed tones, trying to calm the simmering tension that you could feel building. “Jack, with everything you have been through, it’s a miracle you’re even remotely sound of mind. You’ve gone through Hell and back and are here to tell the tale. Give yourself some credit that you’re able to even be on this mission, which is so closely related to what sent you over the edge in the first place.”

“I know, but sugar I-,” he began. 

“No, no buts. You are so strong, and I don’t wanna hear another word about how someone else might cope in this situation. As far as I’m concerned I don’t know anyone strong enough to handle it in the first place, let alone consider how they’re meant to live their life after the fallout. Okay?”. 

And he did know. Nodding slowly, he leant forward and placed a soft kiss to your forehead. You smiled at the gentle contact, yearning for more, and you gripped his hand tighter as he pulled back. 

“Thank you, sugar. That means a lot to me. Let’s go to sleep. Long day ahead of us tomorrow,” he said. 

“Goodnight, Jack,” you said, finally releasing his hand and rolling onto your back to sleep. 

“Night,” he murmured into the dark, rolling over and away from you, shielding you from seeing how his eyes had prickled with tears. Just when he thought he might have a chance with you, it was ripped away, and like with everything in his life so far he had been denied something, yet again…

~~~

Jack woke up in the middle of the night to find himself wrapped around your body, the gentle heat from your skin seeping into his, and the soft push of your ass digging into his crotch waking Jack with a start. His arms were loosely draped over your body, settled around your waist and keeping you close to him. Jack’s throat went dry at the realisation of how close you both were, and he pondered who had initiated this. 

He was about to retract when he heard the soft snores coming from your lips, and he noticed just how out of it you were. For the moment he could, he settled back down next to you and nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. It may not last a lifetime, but if this was all the closeness he could get, for now he’d take it. 

Closing his eyes, Jack slipped back off to sleep. 

Until he awoke with a start. 

~~~

April 23rd, 2002. Medellin. 

“Look what we got here, boss,” were the first words Jack heard when he woke up. His head pounded from where he’d been hit, his vision having remained only long enough to ascertain he was dragged into a van immediately after. 

He had this coming. Working so closely with those who wanted to bring a stop to the Medellin Cartel for all those years, and then him having his own part in taking down the copycats that came after, it was inevitable. 

You didn’t do this job without risk. 

“Who’s this?” another man answered. It was still too dark for Jack to see who he was about to be dealing with, and the more he came around the sooner he realised he was bound up and still in the back of whatever van he’d been thrown into. 

“One of those bastards from Bogota. Part of the team that’s looking to put guys like us away”. 

“You think he’ll talk?” 

“Let’s find out.”

Jack steadied his breathing as he heard the doors of the van click open, then screwed his eyes up as light flooded it once they were open. He just had to pray that there would be backup on the way. If there was one benefit to being a covert agent for Statesman, it was their incredible way of keeping track of their employees. Bogota could learn a thing or two. 

“Come on, out with you, or else you’ll have a knock to the head again that matches the other one,” the first guy sneered, reaching into the van and grabbing Jack by the arm. He dragged him out, his slender arms being deceptively strong, Jack finding himself on the ground before long. 

“I promise, you’ve got the wrong guy!” Jack said, attempting to see if he could bullshit his way out of this one. He wasn’t totally convinced, but it could give him some time. 

“Shut up,” the second guy , a much taller and broader man, exclaimed. His hand struck Jack’s face at the same time, making him recoil on his knees, blood coming out his mouth. 

“That’s not gonna work on us, pig. We know exactly who you are and what your part to play is in all this,” the man explained. Jack moved his head back up, spitting blood before he did, and squinted at his attacker. As his vision began to restore, he recognised the two men. 

The slimmer of the two guys was Luca Torres Molina, one of La Familia Castellano’s notorious weapons smugglers. Even without the drug charges to his name, he was wanted on about seven different accounts of illegal weapon sales in Bogota. 

The second guy was Phillipe Guerrero Morales, a well known henchman for the family. They were currently the most notorious cartel in Colombia, with their operations spreading further every week. Jack had been assigned an intel case on a lead the station had received, when he met his match physically and was taken away by them. 

“Oh yeah? What do you think you know then?” Jack taunted, knowing it was a terrible idea, but also figuring that he was in for a beating regardless of what he said. If one of the most notorious henchmen for the family was coming after him, he knew he was getting too close to the answers he needed. Just like Icarus, his wings needed burning off. 

“Don’t play games with me,” Guerrero snarled, grabbing Jack by the hair and forcing his head back to look up at him properly. Blood continued to trickle down his face from his nose, dancing down his neck and seeping into his collar.

“We know you’ve been looking into business that ain’t your own, and now you’re gonna pay for it”. 

“Not worried someone will come and find me?” Jack asked. Torres scoffed as he loaded his gun. 

“The police will find you, we’re sure of that,” he cocked his gun, “But you’ll be dead by then, won’t you, Jack? Or, shall I say your real name, Javier?”.

The gun cries out, and metal shreds through Jack’s thigh, rendering him immobile. He screams in agony, blood pooling from his leg. Limb by limb the men beat, cut, twist, and bruise him until he’s black and blue, trying to get as much information from him as he could. Another shot rings out, piercing through Jack’s shoulder, throwing him to the ground. His head smacks the concrete floor below him, and soon his world begins to go black. 

~

He doesn’t know how long he’s been laid there, paralysed in his own body, everything throbbing and dripping with blood. It’s the worst pain imaginable, and yet this is the moment he relives time and time again. 

A voice comes through, shouting his name, rousing him from his unconscious daze. “Guys, I’ve found him!"

"Peña is alive”.