"What do you say?"

Jane was standing in front of their closet in her third outfit, frowning at herself in the full-length mirror. It really shouldn't be such a big deal to get dressed for a night out with the team. It was just that – a night out with the team. They just hadn't had a night out in forever and somehow this felt like an important step back to normal and she didn't want her outfit ruining that.

She turned around to look at Kurt who was laying on their bed, upper body propped up against the headboard and reading, while she was going out of her mind with, probably exaggerated, worry. Instead of getting annoyed at her antics, bless him, he simply put his book down for the third time in the past thirty minutes and gave her a once over.

"It looks great", he told her with a small smile and she was thankful he didn't add the 'Just like the other two' that he must definitely be thinking. "You look very beautiful."

Grinning she rolled her eyes at him but let the compliment warm her heart anyway before turning back around to the mirror. The black skinny jeans she was wearing clung to her body in all the right ways and, though she would never admit that to Tasha, she liked how it pushed her butt. Being rather slim she never really had that booty the Latina was always telling her about and she didn't think it was very important. Still, it looked nice.

Jane turned to look at it from a different angle, putting one hand on her hip and trying out one of the poses the girls always made her do when they went shopping. (Which thankfully wasn't very often). Yes, she decided after one final glance at the loosely fitting black blouse she had tucked into the front of her jeans, she could go out like that.

Only then did she realize that Kurt hadn't gone back to reading his book but had instead opted to watch her. She blushed slightly but didn't comment, occupying herself with putting away the pile of clothes she wouldn't be needing.

"What are you going to wear?", she asked him when he came up behind her and she felt his arms sneak around her waist before he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. It was a very ticklish spot and she had to bite her lip to not start laughing. Instead she leaned into him and enjoyed the feeling of his stubble scratching her skin.

"That blue shirt you got me for my birthday", he told her, taking the stack of jeans from her and putting them back on the top shelve himself. "You know, the one that brings out my eyes?"

Jane grinned up at him, his eyes twinkling with mirth. She leaned forward, when she saw his eyes flickering down to her lips and sighed contentedly when his lip met hers in a tender kiss. Keeping her eyes closed she nuzzled his nose with hers and smiled widely. "I can't wait for this night out to end."

As it turned out, she didn't have to wait very long. And like everything she had ever wished for, it wasn't exactly like she had pictured it.

Not ten minutes into their concerted meet – Tasha hadn't even arrived yet – Patterson's phone started ringing. The blonde woman actually rolled her eyes before very deliberately putting it on silent.

"I told them who's in charge of the lab today", she explained with an eye roll, "It's not like those people all got degrees, too, or anything. They can do without me one night."

Turned out they really couldn't because shortly afterwards both Reade's and Kurt's phones started ringing as well and they were all but ordered back into the office.

If she was being honest, Jane couldn't even say she was all that surprised. Criminals tended to show their face again at the least convenient time for law enforcement, that much she had learned in her years at the FBI. There was no actual end to their work day because if something came up then something came up and couldn't be postponed.

It wasn't every day that they got a legitimate tip on one of the FBI's Most Wanted either.

"Okay." Patterson's voice pulled her from her thoughts and Jane pushed herself up from the swivel chair she had occupied ten minutes prior to give her friend space to work through the new information.

"This is James Brown", she told them, pulling up the file on the big screen, when they had all assembled around her, "And before you ask, no he's not that R&B guy that died on Christmas in 2006. This one is called James Derek Brown and is wanted for murder and armed robbery. The only actual picture we've got of him is this one, taken in 2004 a few months before he robbed a movies theatre."

A list of names and three more pictures appeared next to the blurry one of a thirty year old guy in a red hoodie.

"He's taken on a few aliases during his time on the run, none of them very creative. The forensics team tried to age him up in these pictures which are the ones they released to the FBI's website. He has a Master Degree in International Business is said to be self-centered, showing off his high-priced cars and boats and other toys every chance he gets which is how we got our anonymous tip. He pulled some stunt at a high-end party in New York last night."

"Not to sound picky about my criminals", Tasha chimed in, her hands curled around her steaming hot cup of coffee, "But why have we been called in for this? Some armed robber slash murder from 14 years ago sounds like more of a job for the FBI team currently on duty not like something you'd call in CIRG for."

Patterson nodded but didn't look up, continuing to type away on her tablet, "That is very true. But that's not all there is to our dear Mr. Brown – again, nothing to do with the 2008 Chinese milk scandal", she snickered before earning herself stern looks from both Kurt and Reade and decided to get to the point, "He is part of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or more commonly known as the Mormon Church. He completed his two yearlong proselytizing mission in France. We believe it is there that he got in contact with a Basque terror organization called Euskadi Ta Askatasuna or short ETA."

"Now here's where it gets interesting. On 2 May 2018 they made public a letter dated to 16 April 2018 according to which it has "completely dissolved all its structures and ended its political initiative""

Jane leaned forward and saw everyone else do the same when three more articles popped up, all showing footage of bombings of catastrophic dimension.

"You think these are connected to Brown?", Kurt wanted to know, eyes furrowed at the screen

Reade frowned, "I thought ETA usually announced their attacks to newspapers to get the maximum terror effect."

"They did", Patterson agreed, "But in all of these explosions the same type of explosives were used. Titadine. And guess which type of explosives ETA has been known to use?"

"Titadine", Jane answered, biting her lip thoughtfully, "So you're saying that they didn't actually dissolve and instead went underground. And now with Brown being here you think they'll try an attack on American soil?"

Tasha butted in before Patterson could reply. "Well, there has been intel going around that suggests that a big part of the original founders didn't agree with how the organization was run anymore. They started going to more extreme means while most of it's members were said to actually want to deradicalize the group. It could very well be possible that they made the public announcement of their disbanding, so the still active part of them could start operating away from the watchful eyes of law enforcement."

"I really hate it when they try to act smart", Patterson mumbled, "Thankfully, these guys aren't as smart as they think they are and I found a lead on where Brown has been staying for the past week. His Chevy Impala '67 really isn't inconspicuous at all."

With a sigh Tasha put down her coffee and reached for her leather jacket that she had unceremoniously dropped on one of the chairs. "Well, let's get going. Maybe we can save the world and still get a beer afterwards."

At this point Jane was about ninety percent sure that they wouldn't make it out in time for a beer and one hundred percent sure that, even if they did manage to do that, that she would pass. She just wanted to go home.

She was cowering behind one of the huge boxes, her skinny jeans cutting into her flesh as she tried to keep her breathing as quiet as possible. They had identified three of Brown's men so far that were currently transferring their explosives from the various containers into several waiting trucks.

The warehouse they had tracked Brown to wasn't that exciting. Just one of the many empty depots in New York City that Jane had long since accepted where really only ever built and forgotten so some criminal with half a brain could later hide in them. Still better than running through the woods, she had to admit, but her current wardrobe was a lot less comfortable out in the field than what she usually wore.

"We're at the top floor", Tasha's voice crackled through the comms just as Jane decided that women who spent their days in these kinds of pants were actually trained in torture without making a big deal out of it. "Got sights on three of these loons but we saw four more on our climb up. They're hidden from your sight behind the containers to your 10 and 2 o'clock in pairs."

"Are they armed?", Jane heard Kurt ask in her ear and on instinct her eyes flickered over to where she knew he was hiding behind another wooden box to her right before she trained her eyes back on the people she was able to see in front of her.

"One of each pair has got a machine-gun, the other has a pistol in a belt holster. They're not looking too smart. I wouldn't count on them actually getting to their weapons in time."

She heard Kurt sigh, "Well, I'd feel better counting on it and then be proven wrong than the other way around."

"They're almost done loading the first truck", Reade chimed in, "We should move now before that guy leaves with it. Jane, Weller. We're taking care of the three in front, you'll handle the other four."

Jane nodded, eyes finding Kurt's once more who pointed his index at her before pointing to her 10 o'clock and showing her he would be moving to his 2 o'clock at the same time. She rolled her eyes at him when he rested his finger on his lips, indicating that she should be quiet in taking them out, but his lips curled up in a small smile, too.

When he started counting down silently, she half rose from her squat and adjusted her footing, suddenly immensely grateful of the fact that she had chosen to wear sneakers tonight instead of the heels she had shortly considered when planning her outfit. God knew she didn't have Tasha's grace and masochistic tendencies to go after anyone in high heels if it could be helped.

When he reached zero on his counting Jane shot forward, pushing herself over the box she had been hiding behind and in the general directions where she expected them to be. Her pants stretched uncomfortably but didn't rip – she took that as a win – as she jump kicked the automatic weapon from the guy's hands.

It landed to his right but thankfully didn't clatter too loudly. The force of the kick had made him half turn and loose his footing and he was too slow to raise his arms to defend his face before another kick came in, successfully rendering him unconscious.

Meanwhile the other flake was hopelessly reaching for his gun, not getting past the strap on the holster keeping it from falling out. A small sigh escaped her lips when she stopped his embarrassing fidgeting with a hit aimed to his jaw. He went slack before she had time to fully step away.

Taking the gun from him and securing the automatic-weapon, too, she checked once more that they were both unconscious and not dead before running around one of the trucks to meet up with Kurt who was currently head-butting another one.

Two of the three people who had managed the transfer where currently laying on their sides, both clutching their shoulders while the other – the only one around here that she would even consider calling smart – had jumped into the truck filled to the brim with explosives, pointing his weapon at said explosives.

Because obviously spending twelve years of his life on the run had made him value his life a lot less than she was valuing hers. Honestly, why did criminals always have to pull others into their own mid-life crises?

She let Kurt do the talking, following his lead in lowering her weapon as he tried to negotiate with Brown who still seemed dead set on blowing them all up. His reasoning for hating everything about the modern interpretation of Jesus didn't really phase her, as she focused instead on finding a weak spot in his stance – not that difficult – and figuring out how to use it to her advantage before he could make a move – a little more challenging.

That's when she saw Tasha attempting to catch her gaze from still a few feet up on one of the stairs leading to the upper floor. She pointed to were Reade was hiding on a similar place on the other side of the room.

"I'm going to stand up, get his attention", Tasha told her quietly, after a silent conversation with Reade to establish that he had a free shot on Brown should things go sideways. "Hopefully he'll turn his shaky gun away from the truck and then you can take him down."

Jane nodded, barely visibly, and amended her stance ever so slightly so she could jump on the truck the first opportunity she got.

"You know, I really don't feel like getting blown up tonight." Tasha stood up, her weapon lowered, hands raised, and immediately Brown spun around, pointing his gun at the Latina who simply returned the glare.

"I'm never letting you –"

They wouldn't find out what he was never letting them do because as soon as his attention had moved to Tasha, Jane had sprung into action, Kurt hot on her heels as she jumped into the open truck and easily managed to disarm the criminal, kicking the weapon out of the truck so it hit the floor. It was a loud noise in the otherwise empty warehouse and Jane couldn't help but smirk at how Brown winced at it.

Within a few seconds she had overpowered the struggling man and was now sitting on him, pressing both his hands to his back until Kurt would get out the handcuffs to transfer him back to the FBI. It was when she leaned backwards and onto her heels that she heard the fabric of her jeans tear open and it was all she could do to sigh in exasperation (and maybe shove the criminal's hands in Kurt's direction to be cuffed a little more harshly than she needed to).

Seriously?

That's what she got on her first night out in forever? The only jeans she owned that was accepted as part of an outfit by Tasha ripped and dust all over her blouse?

"You know, I really didn't expect this night to end like this", she told Kurt at home as she slipped out of the leggings she had donned at the Office until they were allowed to leave. "But maybe that's my fault. For expecting our lives to be normal."

"Normal's boring, right?", he smiled down at her, closing the distance between them and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Jane leaned into him in content, "You know, maybe one day we'll get that one boring day, though. I think I'd like a little boring sometimes."

"I think I'd like you sometimes."

She blinked up at him, too tired to actually glare, yet too awake to let it completely slide.

"I love you", she told him instead because she never wanted to stop telling him that. "And I really hope you plan on making up for this crazy evening that was supposed to be fun."

"Aye, ma'am."

With that he pulled her closer and when his hands travelled down the side of her body until they slipped underneath her shirt, only breaking their kiss to pull it over her head, she let herself forget about all the times that their lives weren't normal and focused instead on how grateful she was that, somehow, this man belonged to her version of normal.

She wouldn't trade it for the world.

A/N: Well, I'm not really happy with this. I feel like some sarcasm has slipped past all defenses and bled into Jane's thoughts. I also like sassy Jane too much to make an effort to change it. Feedback is appreciated!

I feel like I'm having a hard time getting back into writing Blindspot. Which is why, if you feel like it, feel free to send me prompts to help me find my footing (: