"FBI! Freeze!"

The suspect was unarmed and cornered, her bomb abandoned at the other end of the municipal pool, defused by Leo before he and Jason had chased the woman. Now they had her trapped, walls behind her, Jason and Leo coming from both sides of the pool. Yet she looked almost serene in the dim light, unfazed by the guns pointed at her.

In hindsight, Jason's brain had processed the information far too slowly. Her attitude, the glint in her eyes, the flick of her hand—even one of those should have alerted him.

"She's a meta!" he cried out, but flames already burst towards Leo. With the pool separating them, Jason could only watch, frozen in place. Too shocked to see the fire coming at him, too.

Something knocked Jason down, his sight blurring as he confusedly registered the lack of heat. Then he hit the water and sank, knocking the breath out of him as his glasses and gun slipped away. He kicked once towards the surface, hoping to get some air, but everything above him suddenly turned a blazing inferno of reds and oranges and yellows—clearly unsafe, even though everything was a blur without his glasses.

His lungs were already aching for air, though. If he swam up, he'd burn. If he didn't, he'd drown.

"I've got you." A voice, clear and distinct, even though Jason was underwater. Then water parted from his skin, clearing a bubble of air around his head. He took a shallow breath in; breathable air, it seemed, and Jason sighed in relief.

"Just stay there," the voice continued, and this time Jason could position its origin and turn towards it. A man—at least Jason assumed he was a man, judging by the shape of his silhouette in the form-fitting suit he wore. Another meta, if he were to guess. "I'll take care of it." His face was half-obscured by a mask, but it did not hide his cocky grin.

"As if I had a choice," Jason whispered before the man swam up. No; he zoomed up, barely even moving to propel himself.

Jason could not see what happened next in detail, the water and his own eyesight working against him. But just as the meta disappeared from his view, the light above changed, dimming in places and flaring up in others. Jason felt currents around him, though none of them moved him, as if he had been pinned in place. The meta was probably commanding the water, using it to fight the woman's—the other meta's—fire.

It was only a few moments before the water's surface went dark, and a strong current pushed Jason upwards. He broke the surface near the side of the pool, and hoisted himself out of the pool, only to find his suspect unconscious next to him. Beside her stood Jason's savior, a hand on his hip. "You should let the pros deal with this kind of thing, Agent Grace."

Jason blinked for a moment, curious how the man knew his name, then shook his head. "My partner?"

"Badly burned, but still alive. Help's on its way." He paused. "Funny, I thought you'd complain because I called myself a pro. That's usually what your type does."

"Well, you did just save me and my partner." He glanced at the pool. "Though if I could ask for my glasses back…"

"Oh, right. Sure." He held out his hand, and Jason's glasses jumped out of the water almost immediately. "There you go, Agent Grace."

He placed the glasses in Jason's extended hand, and lingered there, surprising Jason by how warm the man's skin felt even though he'd just been underwater. He looked up at the man's masked face. "If you know who I am, will you tell me your name?"

"I'd love to, but I'm still working on the alias. But I'm sure we'll meet again."

He still hadn't pulled his hand away, Jason noticed—and neither had Jason, for that matter. "I'll be looking forward to that."

Instead of pulling away, the man walked closer. Even then, it was only when he leaned up that Jason realized he was taller than the meta—he had that sort of presence that made him seem taller than he was. "Will you, now?" he whispered, inches from Jason's face, his breath ghosting over Jason's lips.

It was the sort of position that could only end one way, and Jason closed the distance before he could second-guess himself. He kissed the meta, who kissed him back, letting out a small, satisfied sound. A hand found the small of Jason's back and pulled him closer, and he tangled one of his hands in the meta's hair, his fingers almost catching his mask's strap. The temptation to try and take it off crossed his mind, then the man coaxed his lips apart with his mouth and he dismissed it.

A small, reasonable part of Jason knew this made no sense. Another realized the man knew his name, and therefore probably knew him—maybe they even knew each other. Most of him didn't care, though. It had been too long since a hot guy had shown interest in him. He could always blame it on the adrenaline high later—though Jason was not sure how much of his hammering heartbeat was due to almost dying, and how much was because of the kiss.

The first hints of noise were enough for the meta to jolt back. He was panting, half-chuckling as he caught his breath; but when Jason tried to close the distance between them again, he stepped back. "Sorry, I've gotta go before your colleagues arrive. This was nice, though. Until next time."

"Wait," Jason said, uselessly, as he put his glasses back on. But the meta was already turning away—all Jason could see was the flush on his cheek before he dove into the water. A few seconds later, he reappeared on the other side of the pool, and disappeared through one of the entrances.

The remainder of the night was long, and turned into a longer morning. Between getting Leo to the hospital, getting their suspect to a meta containment cell, and Jason's own debriefing, the sun was already up for a few hours when Jason was let out.

Every new meta had to be reported in as much detail as possible, and Jason had just met two. One of whom he had barely seen—and he doubted telling his bosses what the man's lips tasted like would be relevant or a good idea.

Jason had cycled past being tired and all the way back to wakefulness when every report was filed. He knew he'd probably crash that much harder in the evening, but for now, going home sounded pointless. So instead, he ended up in the Bureau's lounge with a coffee that felt completely useless when Jason was already brimming with nervous energy.

He was alone for only a few minutes, before three analysts walked in, two men and a woman. Jason didn't know them very well—he knew most of the analysts by name, since they had to work together pretty often, but it had never gotten personal—so he greeted them with a nod and ignored them.

"Someone didn't sleep much last night," the woman said—Annabeth, Jason thought her name was. She leaned against the kitchen counter while one of the men made coffee for all of them. "Do you have news for us, Percy?"

"Annabeth, come on, you're just making him uncomfortable. It's not easy talking about that to your ex, you know?"

"It's been eight years, Grover. I'm over it." She turned back to the other man. "Seriously, Percy, I told you I'm okay with helping you come to terms with the gay thing. You're not just lying for my sake, right?"

"There hasn't been anyone to talk about."

"Really? Because I know what that look means, Percy. I'm pretty sure nothing didn't happen last night."

Percy sighed. "It was just a kiss. Probably won't happen again, either."

"Was it good?" Annabeth asked.

Percy remained silent, and it drew to an uncomfortable length. After a moment, Jason looked up, to find Annabeth and Grover staring at him. "Um—" he mumbled, puzzled, "I'll let you have some privacy."

As he crossed the room to the exit, he couldn't help but notice the flush of Percy's skin, and how familiar it looked.

In the afternoon, Jason went to check on Leo, then came back to the Bureau, more out of habit than anything else. His case was closed, everyone expected him to sleep it off until something new came up.

He was going through his pile of unsorted files when Percy showed up in his office. "Agent Grace? You wanted all the material we had on the metas you reported this morning?"

It took Jason a moment to remember he had, indeed, made this request. Okay, so maybe he could use some sleep. "Yeah, sure. Thanks. Put it on my desk—wherever you can find space."

Percy did, retreating silently, then stopped before he was outside. "I just wanted to—you know—apologize for this morning. My friends—they had no right to force you out like that. Especially not over—that."

Jason couldn't help but chuckle. "It's fine. I didn't want you to feel like I was eavesdropping."

"Okay. Okay." He cleared his throat. "But—you weren't. Making me feel that way, I mean."

"Still, it's not really any of my business, is it?"

Percy remained silent for a moment, the blush on his face deepening. "I guess not."

It was only a few days later that Jason ran into the meta from the pool again.

Jason's suspect had been another meta, a relative of the woman he'd taken in, a cousin to some degree with similar abilities. He, however, had none of his cousin's meticulous planning and affinity for bombs. Instead, he ran around the city, bursting fire at everything in his way. His way to what exactly, the FBI had not quite figured out yet—they were part of an organization, but what their endgame was remained to be determined.

A squad was equipped to deal with his powers, and Jason had joined them, shepherding the man towards the shore with heat-resistant body armor and guns that were essentially weaponized fire extinguishers, designed to snuff out fires and cool them down as fast as possible. Even then, the meta kept them at bay easily. Their equipment couldn't handle point-blank bursts of flames, too intensely hot to resist, and their weapons could barely contain him.

Until, that is, they reached the beach. Sand turned to glass under the meta's feet, the air itself caught fire around him, and no one could come close. But no one had to.

At first, it looked like the waves were getting stronger, but that did not make sense to Jason. There was hardly any wind, certainly nothing to explain this, and the tide should have been lowering. Then one gigantic wave built behind the meta, crashing down on him—exactly on him, with pinpoint precision, falling on a circular area of heated-up air. The water sizzled, some of it tuning to vapor instantly, but the wave kept bearing down, until, just like it had at the pool, the light of the meta's fire died down. Only then did the wave recede, leaving behind the unconscious meta.

They all knew what this meant, and Captain Ramirez told them to stay on alert and be ready to catch another meta if necessary. But he did not show himself, and after a while, she had the squad take in their main suspect and clear out the area.

Jason volunteered to join that second team, taking notes and measurements around their battle field so they could learn about their suspects' powers. The other agents spread out, making sure no one had gotten hurt in the area and looking for witnesses, leaving Jason alone on the beach.

He was almost unsurprised to see the man emerge from the water then. "Saved you again," he said in lieu of greeting.

"I think we had the situation in hand."

"Now you're just bluffing. I like you even if you can't deal with metas, you know."

Jason's heart skipped a beat, and he mentally punched himself for it. It was just one kiss—for all he knew, the meta was playing with him. Instead, he returned to his equipment. All measures that could been taken had been—on the battle scene, at least. Instead, he angled the device slightly towards the newcomer. Perhaps he could learn something this way. "Am I supposed to be flattered?"

The meta strolled towards him. "I don't know," he said, and pushed Jason's hands and his scanner aside to come closer. "Are you?"

Their chase had taken most of the afternoon, but it was still day, and Jason had his glasses on this time. For the first time, he was getting a better look at this man's face—part of it, anyway—and he was breathtaking. That was not what Jason registered, though: even as the meta inched closer, Jason's brain was fervently noting the exact tone of his skin, the shape of his lips, the green of his eyes, the tangle of his dark hair. All details that could be used to identify him later.

If Jason even wanted to. When the meta's lips reached his, he couldn't help but wonder if it would be such a good idea to out him. He closed an arm around the man's waist, firm but not strong, easing them into a better position, and kissed him back.

There was no interruption, this time, hidden as they were by the dunes. When they parted, it was because the kiss had run its course, and the man remained in Jason's embrace.

"You didn't answer me."

"I don't know. You did imply I couldn't deal with metas."

"Looks like you're having trouble dealing with me, too."

"Maybe I'm luring you in my trap."

"You didn't choose your battlefield very well for that, then."

"Guess not." Jason chuckled. "What are we doing?"

"I thought it was obvious."

"I don't even know you."

The man fell silent for a brief moment. "Maybe—you don't want to. I'm much better—like this."

"What, you think I wouldn't like you without the mask? I'm not that kind of person."

"No, but—I am. The kind you wouldn't like. Without the mask, I mean."

The sudden saccades in his diction felt like a crack in his armor, but Jason wasn't sure if he wanted to pry them open. His job demanded that he did, that he reported everything he found out. But the meta hadn't done anything that justified such a course of action yet.

"You know who I am," he finally said. "I mean—you knew it when we first met."

A slight tensing of the meta's body. "What about it?"

"Maybe you should try to find out how I'd react to you without the mask."

A scornful chuckle. "Right. And then you'll report me."

"I didn't say you had to tell me it was you."

The meta looked up at him, silently. "I'll think about it," he said, his façade rebuilt as he tore himself from Jason's arms. "Until next time."

"I'll still be looking forward to it," Jason said, but the man had disappeared into the waves already.

No one came to him the next day. Or the day after. Weeks passed by, actually, and Jason was left with only two possible explanations. One, the meta was one of the close friends Jason hung out with most of the time. Two, the meta had thought about it—and thought against it.

No new meta showed up in town, either—with fire powers or otherwise—and none of Jason's regular cases seemed to get the attention he was hoping for. Maybe, in trying to gain the meta's trust, he'd just scared him away.

He had just been to see Leo at the hospital—last day before he was discharged—when he walked by a group of analysts on his way to his office. Annabeth, Grover and Percy, just like that day in the lounge. And the moment they noticed him, they fell silent, with Grover casting obvious glances his way.

Jason would have ignored it, but his eyes caught Percy's for a moment before the analyst looked down. Green and familiar—he froze in place. Then, realize he was basically staring at them, he just resumed his way to his office. Had he just imagined that? It had been weeks—his memory of the meta and the color of his eyes could be hazy. And besides, many people probably had the same eye color. And the same flush on their cheeks?

He couldn't pursue that train of thought because Annabeth all but followed him to his office and closed the door behind her. "Okay, spill."

He turned back to stare at her. "What?"

"First Percy claims he's kissed someone—for the first time in eight years after coming out—then after you leave he claims he was just making it up. Now this…whatever it was you did back there. What's going on?"

What indeed? Was Jason even thinking of the same thing Annabeth was? "I can assure you I have no idea what you're talking about."

"At first I thought he wanted to make you jealous. Then I realized he was doing a pretty shitty job at it, since he was all but avoiding you. Do you know how many times I've had to cover for him in the past weeks? Seventeen. All because he wouldn't work with a team you were on. So I figured, hey, that can't be it, right? Which leaves the other option. He kissed you, and when he realized you wouldn't own up to it, he backed out of it." She paused, but not long enough for Jason to answer—if he'd known what to say. "Oh God, I'm right, aren't I? That's really shitty of you, sir. Do you know how long it takes him to get out of his shell? And you're just going to toss him aside like that?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Jason said. None of it seemed to fit, and yet, Annabeth's logic came as a confirmation of what Jason had just been suspecting himself. "Look, I can promise you I didn't do anything to hurt your friend."

"Maybe that's what you think."

"No, I mean I'm sure I did nothing wrong." Annabeth's eyes narrowed, but Jason didn't leave her time to argue. "I'm also pretty sure it's not the time nor the place."

Annabeth let out a long breath, fuming. "Fine." She walked out, slamming the door shut behind her. Jason didn't really mind.

Jason spent the rest of his day carefully crafting his plan. Finding an isolated area of the beach, where no agent would be nearby. Making sure his distress call would reach the right analyst, and calculating how long he would have to wait before sending a second message, confirming the false alarm, to prevent other FBI agents from barging in on the scene.

There was no threat to fight when the meta in costume showed up—when Percy showed up, he corrected himself. Percy had to have noticed too. Jason was almost surprised when he emerged from the waves into the night air.

"I wasn't sure you'd come out," he said, crossing the few steps that separated them.

Percy took a step back, his feet landing squarely into the shallow water. "Don't. You did warn me you were luring me into a trap. I guess I had to see it for myself."

"If this is a trap, I didn't really think it through, did I? No weapon, no protection, no backup?" He stepped forward, following Percy even as he retreated further into the water. Putting himself at his mercy. "The worst battlefield?"

Percy finally stopped as the water reached his waist, and when Jason moved up against him, he didn't shy away.

"Can I kiss you?" Jason asked gently.

Percy huffed out a laugh, and he kissed Jason without answering. But when Jason's hand tangled into his hair and found the strap of his mask, he froze, and the waves pushed Jason back. "Don't," he said. "Don't do that."

"I know, who you are," Jason said.

"I know that. But the moment you say it—the moment you see me—everything changes."

"Don't you trust me?"

"I thought I'd made it clear last time. I don't trust me."

Jason had no idea what to say to that, so he remained silent.

"Please…just go," Percy said, and Jason did.

It was a surprise when Jason glimpsed Percy at the Bureau the next day. It wasn't like Percy had any reason to leave, but after knowing his identity was compromised, Jason had half expected him to disappear.

But to Jason, it was an opportunity. He sent a message to Annabeth, and waited in the lounge all morning. Eventually, his patience paid off, and Percy was half-shoved inside. Percy saw Jason, and his eyes widened in open panic, but when he turned around, the door slammed shut before him.

"We need to talk," Jason said. Percy turned to him, a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face, until his eyes fell on the two cups Jason was holding. They were lukewarm by now, but it was better than nothing. "Your friend thinks I hurt you. I wanted to fix that."

"Are you—did you—"

"Don't say anything," Jason said, softly, hoping he would get the hint. The moment you say it, everything changes. "I just want to get to know you."