A/N: Strong Language. Adult Scenes.
He wished that he could lie here forever. Lying on the rocks with Mike and Toussant smoking and drinking, fighting bitching and laughing. But Jim had a calling. Greater than Marta, greater than the dreams he had with her. He didn't want to be the gutless fuck that didn't get what he wanted. He'd miss Mike like hell. Mike was his best friend but he didn't know everything about Jim. Jim wanted to keep it that way. If Mike wanted to bitch about that whiny skank Sylvia Jim would be there for him all day long. But Jim couldn't really talk about his personal shit.
It was ironic that he'd brought the guys up to Mexico to show Marta off. Marta was hot and beautiful. When Jim was alone, watching a made for TV movie, he'd think about making love to Marta under a willow tree while on a picnic blanket, on the beach. Sure there were no willow trees on beaches but that why it was a dream. In Marta's home country Jim could watch Mike flirt with the local town girls and enjoy a cheeky graze against Marta chest with his hand. He could play truth or dare with Toussant and always go for a dare so they could go wild. Mexico was an escape world, but Jim would always find himself back in the states and not just for work.
Jim had a secret private life that not even Mike knew about. Mike knew the guy. They'd both seen him around. This guy had bumped into Mike one night at the club. The guy swore at him and Mike wasn't the kind of dude that was gonna get flipped off in front of everyone and do nothing. Mike aimed for a punch but this dude blocked it and sweeped Mike's legs up with a kick. Jim was impressed but had to carry Mike away before they got banned from the club. Jim was curious about the guy, he always had time for a guy that had cool combat rules.
"What the fuck was up with your midget friend? The guy asked one night when Jim got a drink after work. "Dude you bumped into him" Jim said. "But...ummm...nice block" Jim said. The guy nodded. One compliment lead to Jim blowing this guy off on his sofa. Yeah it was a bad idea, but as far as Jim knew, no-one saw him come or go. The next morning Jim blamed it on the alcohol and the cigarettes. On the fifth night Jim had seen him, he finally asked him his name. "Does it matter?" He asked. "No, but I just wanna put a name to a dick...literally" Jim said buttoning up his shirt. He still didn't get an answer on the name, just a "Watch MMA" and a shrug.
The next weekend Jim had brought a six-pack of beer over to Mike's house. MMA was kind of his friend's thing, that's what Mike told him anyway. "Ready to see some ass kicking?" Mike asked. "Why Sylvia here already?" Jim joked looking around. "Very fucking funny Jim" Mike said taking one beer out of the six-pack. They watched an old re-run of UFC's "The Ultimate Fighter Finale" before Jim thought he saw the same guy that was on his couch a few days ago. "Who's that?" He asked. "Wait for the fucking announcer man" Mike said drinking his beer.
"Fighting the red corner, weighing in at one hundred and fifty-five pounds Nate Diaz!" The announcer said. Jim nodded. So he was "friends" a MMA guy, he didn't know if that was good or bad. As he watched this kid fight, he noticed that that his punches were a little sloppy, maybe Jim could bring that up. "Come on Joe kick his ass!" Mike yelled at the screen. "You don't like that...umm...Nate Diaz?" Jim asked. "Fuck no. Nate Diaz and his older brother man, they're total dicks" Mike said putting his beer on the table. Mike cheered as Nate got beaten by Joe with a unanimous decision. "Yeah Joe, show them how's it's done baby" Mike said clapping.
Jim clapped, and drank another beer now feeling more confident about talking to Nate about MMA stuff. Jim let him in and he sat down on his sofa. "I've seen you fight" Jim said. "I know your name, seen your fight against Joe Stevenson" "Right" The guy said nodding. "You were a little sloppy Nate, maybe I could teach you how to tune up" Jim said walking over to him and shadow-boxing. "Nate's my brother" The guy said watching TV. "Fuck" Jim moaned. "If Nate's your brother then who the fuck?...Okay okay...John? Paul? Theo? Kevin? Jason?" Jim said. "It's Nick" The guy told him. "Oh...Nick...nice name" Jim said getting a beer and offering him one to make up for his mistake.
It didn't matter with their clothes off. On the sofa Jim rolled off his protection and looked at the clock. "You and Nate are brothers...you really do look alike...it's a simple mistake" Jim said buttoning up his trousers. "It ain't" Nick said getting up to leave, but someone was knocking the door. "Jim! Open up man, Syl's on my dick again" Mike said. "Shit...go out the back" Jim said as Nick looked around and went through to the kitchen. Jim made sure he heard the back door shut as he let his friend in. "Hey took a while...you got company?" Mike asked. "As fucking if" Jim said as he let his friend in.
It was awkward watching Mike lay his head on a place that himself and Nick had had fun on but it was just for one night. The next morning Mike was back at Sylvia's and Jim was back at work. "How badly do you want to be in the LAPD?" Agent Richards asked. "Sir I haven't got my results back yet" Jim told him. "You ready for the fitness test?" Agent Richards asked. Jim nodded, but he cursed himself in his mind. Going out with Mike, partying with Toussant he'd forgotten all about the fitness test. If he didn't pass that, his career was over before it had even begun.
After work he got changed into plain clothes and went to the gym. Toussant and Mike would kill him over this, but they never went to the gym, he knew he wouldn't see anyone he knew. He got on a treadmill, looking at all the trendy people with Ipods. He should have brought some music too. He was putting his treadmill speed up, when his bottle fell out of his hand. "Shit" Jim said as he leaned down to pick it up but someone already had it. "You train?" Nick asked. "Fitness test at work" Jim explained. "Any tips?" Nick shrugged. "Train hard" Nick said jogging on the treadmill beside him. Jim decided to run faster than Nick to prove a point, but that ended up Jim having in calf muscles that felt like they'd been dipped in gasoline and set on fire.
Jim took a time out and sat in the changing room rubbing his legs. Maybe he should go running with Mike, that test had to be passed with flying colours. He thought about asking Nick but didn't want to get shut down by him. He walked back from the gym to find Mike outside his house. "Hey" Jim said. "Sylvia give you shit?" Jim asked. "Nah, that Nick prick that bumped into me in the club, he's walking round like he's somebody...gonna help me get him?" Mike asked. Jim let him in and was going to tell Mike to let the Nick stuff go without giving too much away.