~*~Must. Be. Rid. Of. Writer's. Block. Before. School. That's why I wrote this. Before I go back and actually have to write for a reason!
My first Punk!verse story. I'm dipping a toe in now before I decide to dive in headfirst. Anyone notice there's not any Punk!ConWorth? This must be remedied…in time. But for now, have this.
Musical Muse: As befitting, I played punk. Green Day (debatable, I know), and Ye Olde Punk, The Ramones and The Sex Pistols.
Warnings: Swears, tooth-rotting sweetness.
Disclaimer: I'm not Tessa, even though every day without a word from her is like a day without sunshine (very cloudy it's been). Punk!verse is not my original concept, but I thank (worship) the creator of it.

~*~ It's a Lie ~*~

Jayne had a sneaking suspicion that Hanna was doing something he shouldn't be doing. He wasn't sure how he knew it, but some hidden sense told him that something was amiss, even before he reached the door. It was like something tickling in the back of his brain, some internal alarm that always went off right before Hanna did something stupid and dangerous. It had been going off a lot lately.

It had been a long week. Lots of trying cases, work and social life conflictions, and a few injuries all around had Jayne exhausted and a touch stressted. Even Hanna, usually a fount of energy and caffeine-fueled liveliness, slowed down as the weekend approached. He actually opted to go to bed at a reasonable human time last night, something Jayne had been surprised at. But it seemed that Hanna had an ulterior motive. Mainly, to be awake and alone in the apartment to do something suspicious. Suspicious and, dare he think it, dangerous?

Jayne had learned through many unfortunate instances that Hanna was horribly reckless and too quick to jump in to dangerous circumstances. But sometimes, the most dangerous actions he took were not running head-first at a bridge troll, but a few scribbles of a marker in the intended safety of the living room.

It seemed hardwired into Hanna's being to not care for his own well-being. His whole personality was that of someone who truly did not give a fuck. Too much had happened to him in his life that made his so indifferent to peril. Jayne hated to think that it had something to do with the boy's many years on the street, and hated even worse the possibility that Hanna was putting himself in danger on purpose.

As a partner, Jayne did his best to make sure Hanna stayed safe during their cases together. As a friend, he offered whatever help he could, even though the punk preferred to work by himself most times. And as Hanna's lover, he worried sometimes that Hanna was being way too irresponsible.

His lifestyle contributed to his reckless ways that was certainly obvious. Scouring the city streets at all hours of the night, hanging out with an underage hoodlum and a shady drug dealer –and those were the most respectable of his "friends" –a normal person wouldn't dream of putting himself into those situations. Yet Hanna did on a nightly basis, and found nothing wrong with it. Perhaps his lack of self-preservation was mealy a by-product of the circumstances he was thrust into. Did he ever even realize how much peril he was in? Did he know how many people actually cared for him, and would grieve if he ever went too far?

He hated thinking about this. He didn't like thinking that someone he cared so much about was in so much danger all the time, and refused any sort of help when offered. And most of all, he hated that sometimes he forgot what Hanna was really like.

As often as he would do something dangerously foolhardy, his roommate and lover would go and do something so innocent, so childishly wonderful, that it would remind Jayne that beneath the hardened and reckless exterior there was a man who was living his life to the fullest, with no thought or care for anything except those he chose to care about. Who liked Harry Potter with an almost nerdy fervor, and occasionally sang the Barbie Girl song in Jayne's ear to wake him up in the morning. Who loved his friends and was fiercely loyal to them, to the point where he would endanger himself rather than see them come to harm.

Hanna was an enigma wrapped in a mystery. Jayne had never met anyone like him before. A mysterious past behind such a brutal exterior. So set in his strange ways, so unique in his actions. He would go from erratic to calm in a matter of seconds, without warning. Totally unpredictable.

He was certainly up to something now. That was something that Jayne was sure of. He could hear him swearing at something through the door. The door was locked, and a quick excavation of his pockets revealed to him that at some point Hanna had nicked his key from the chain he usually kept it on. Which meant he had indeed planned this.

Was he working on something stupid and dangerous? Or was Jayne just over-thinking and over-reacting, just assuming the worst? He didn't like feeling so suspicious about someone he knew he trusted whole-heartedly, but…really, what else could the punk be up to?

Jayne frowned at the door barring his entrance, as if it was the real source of the whole problem. He had to go in, make sure that Hanna was really alright, offer whatever assistance he could. Though Hanna would probably turn down any offer he made. Especially if what he was doing was magical in any way.

Even after so long, Hanna refused to let him do any sort of complicated or dangerous magic. Simple harmless spells, or ones that only Hanna could activate, Jayne was learning how to do, but anything powerful or useful in a battle, Hanna got angry and turned him down. There wasn't even an explanation about why, other than "Too dangerous."

"He's right you know" Veser had muttered on the single occasion Jayne had brought it up. They were watching Hanna set up a large complicated rune by himself while they stood idly by. "Trust me man, you don't wanna get fucked up with that stuff." He had looked even more beaten down than usual as he said it, like he really knew more about it than Jayne ever would. And it was probably true.

Magic and its inclusion in their lives was the last boundary to be breached in their relationship. Hanna had opened up to him about nearly everything else, from his life on the streets to a few quiet mentions of what had happened to land him there. He even told him a few things that Jayne was sure Veser and Worth would not be happy to learn that Jayne knew, being a cop and all. But Jayne using magic was not spoken of. Ever. These days he didn't even acknowledge Jayne's desire to be helpful, simply wouldn't talk about the matter, even though Jayne promised to be careful, only use it in emergencies, only to help Hanna; basically, every excuse he could think of. But Hanna always said no.

Before Jayne set about picking the lock, he removed from his briefcase a crumpled piece of paper. Scrawled on it in heavy black marker was a squiggly rune. It was one those simple harmless spells that Hanna let him use. "It's a spell detector." Hanna brutally informed him, shoving the paper in his general direction from his location on the living room rug, papers and books scattered around him an a look of unusual concentration on his face. "You just hold it up to whatever you're checking, and if it lights up, there's a spell there. It's simple, pretty harmless, and damn useful!" He took a moment to smirk up at Jayne, the eyebrow sporting the piercing arching in a teasing way. "I'm thinking of getting it tattooed somewhere. Built-in warning system!" Jayne merely shook his head and ruffled the punk's Mohawk the way he knew Hanna hated. Sometimes he could be so silly.

He had kept the rune in his case, never finding an opportunity to use it until now. He didn't think that Hanna would really spell their door shut, but might if he was up to something he knew Jayne wouldn't like. Hanna was at times surprisingly good at kowtowing to Jayne's requests. He only occasionally forgot to take off his shoes, ate the healthy meals provided with minimal bickering, and toned down the swearing after seeing Jayne flinch too many times. And Jayne was also adapting to Hanna's quirks. Markers were now a permanent addition to his shopping list, alongside milk and bread, and he had almost completely stopped asking about powerful magic.

The rune didn't activate, so it was simply a matter of picking the door, something that Jayne was actually trained to do. Unlike Hanna or Veser, who obviously picked up the skill from the streets, and who usually preferred the quickest –and often loudest –method of entering a building.

Jayne tried to be quiet, while scrounging around in the door handle to knock the tumblers loose, but unfortunately lock-picking wasn't exactly a subtle act. Through the door, he heard all movement still, and a quiet "shit" muttered before all became silent. Jayne unlocked the door with a 'click' and straightened, putting his tools away neatly in his coat. The handle now turned easily in his hand.

He expected to be met with darkness, shaky light being provided by some sinister-looking rune and a guilty-looking Hanna ready with a defensive excuse. The guilty Hanna was present, certainly, but he looked more sheepish than guilty. Other than that, things were not as Jayne had expected. The room was bright and warm, and smelled like…cake?

"Hanna?" Jayne asked a trifle uneasily as he closed the door behind him. This was indeed unusual, but not in the way he had expected. Hanna shifted and grinned, very un-discreetly trying to hide something on the counter behind him. "Heya Jayne, um…didn't expect you home yet." It wasn't the usual confident tone that Hanna sported, but softer and a bit shy. Jayne hadn't thought Hanna was capable of shy.

"What are you hiding?" Jayne asked, though he was certain he knew. He kicked off his shoes and hung up his coat, keys and tools jingling in his pocket. Hanna sighed, and stepped to the side, revealing a circular cake that sat innocently on the counter. A small tub of frosting and a jar of sprinkles waited next to it.

"We missed your birthday cause of that chicken-and-goblin adventure last week, and tonight was the only time I could make a cake so…" Hanna trailed off with a shrug and stared at the ground. "If you don't want it that's cool. I know you don't really like junk food and it's stupid and gay and it's not even fucking done…" Now Hanna was angry, beating himself up over something so little that he had tried so hard on. Jayne was touched. This, more than any of Hanna's attempts to protect him from dangerous magical escapades, more than any words Hanna could or couldn't say, told him how much Hanna loved him.

Jayne crossed the room in two steps to pull Hanna into a tight hug. The punk's thin body resisted only a moment before relaxing, Hanna's piercings sticking him through the material of his shirt as he pressed his face to Jayne's chest. "It's cool Hanna." Jayne whispered above Hanna's head, and he felt Hanna's face move into a grin.

They decorated the cake together, using way too much sprinkles and frosting but not caring too much. The cake was sweet and warm, and Hanna got frosting all over his face, but Jayne was more than happy to remove the smears for him in his own way. He had never been so happy to have his assumptions proven wrong.

~*~ Understand the title reference? Have some cake. And please review. I'm gonna go brush my teeth now to ward off the cavities that writing this caused.