A Book By Its Cover
A/N:. Thanks to VR Trakowski for her beta services on this.
Disclaimer: I don't think I need a disclaimer. The first eight should more than suffice.
Chapter 10
Lady Jaye had finished her breakfast before Flint returned the next morning, a cardboard carrier of coffee cups in one hand and a stack of newspapers under his arm. He was smiling happily, looking remarkably refreshed for just a few hours of rest.
After he'd left in the middle of the night, she'd been unable to get back to sleep, instead spending the time thinking about their situation. For all the risk – both personally and professionally – they had potential; only time would tell if it was for something wonderful or for a flaming disaster. They still had to work out the logistics of what was essentially an illegal relationship, but it was a challenge she couldn't wait to tackle, and she watched her would-be lover fondly.
Crossing the room, he hooked a chair leg with his boot, dragging it with him. Jaye shook her head at the sight, grinning when he dropped the papers at the foot of the bed and set the carrier on her tray.
"You don't need to keep pouring warm liquids into me now," she joked. "My temperature is back to normal."
"Only one is for you," he said, retrieving the appropriate cup and handing it to her.
Taking a sip, she gave him an appreciative nod – black with just a hint of sugar, the way she always took it first thing in the morning. If nothing else, he went out of his way to be attentive and to make an effort. A flush formed when she wondered how far that trait extended into more personal endeavors, and she sought out a safer line of thought.
"Do you need me to translate something for you?" she asked, glancing at the stack of local newspapers.
"Duke is fluent in German. I'd ask him before bothering you on your sickbed. These are to keep you occupied."
"Then how long am I stuck in here?"
"The doctors said they were keeping you at least twenty-four hours for observation, so you're not getting out before tonight."
Jaye let out a disgusted groan. "I feel fine."
"Is that a fact?" Flint asked, moving his hand as if he was going to grab her foot, his eyes twinkling when she glared at him.
"Except my feet are a little sore and I feel like I pulled every muscle in my body," she admitted with a good-natured grumble. "There's no reason to keep me here."
He grinned broadly. "So you'd rather go back to base and face Doc after leaving the hospital sooner than the medical staff here wanted you to?"
"When you put it that way, this isn't so bad," she laughed; the team's physician got downright ornery with patients he felt weren't taking their recovery seriously, and she had no desire to get on his bad side.
"Rest up here while you can. You'll get a few days off when we get back stateside. You might as well be in position to enjoy your leave," he told her.
Sipping her coffee she regarded him closely, privately enjoying the softer side he was showing – at least as long as they were alone. "Where are Snakes and Scarlett?"
"They said something about playing tourist for a change."
She was getting ready to ask who the rest of the coffee was for when Duke and Hawk entered the ward, and Duke closed the door behind him. After some pleasantries, they started the debriefing on her mission, and she quickly filled them in on how she had slipped into the country and found the dead agent's room.
Flint sat impassively as she told her story – until she got to the point where she had flirted with the police guard. He didn't say anything, but he gripped his coffee cup tightly as he leaned forward in his chair with a scowl. Apparently Duke noted his reaction, because he stopped her for more details, wanting to know what she would have done if the guard hadn't taken the spiked vodka. Hawk seemed mildly surprised by the interruption, but he waited for her to answer.
"I'd have forced it down his throat. It's not likely his superiors would have believed a wild story that he had been drugged by a maid when nothing was taken from the room, especially when it looked like he'd gotten drunk."
"But how would you have gotten him to drink it?" Duke pressed, and Lady Jaye was certain he was doing it to get a rise out of Flint. She never claimed to understand the rivalry that was part of their friendship, but she didn't appreciate being brought into it – especially when their commanding officer was in the room.
"Once he had exposed himself, he'd have been vulnerable. I could have kneed him or punched him," she said matter-of-factly, fixing the sergeant with a steady gaze. "I could have bitten him if it had come to that."
She hid her amusement when Duke visibly flinched, squirming reflexively on his chair. Flint stared at her wide-eyed for a moment before leaning back, draining the last of his coffee with a proud expression.
"Remind me to never forget to process your leave requests in a timely manner," Duke said, pantomiming writing a note.
Hawk coughed lightly, and Jaye swore she saw his lips twitching for a split second before he composed himself and told her to continue; she wasn't sure she wanted to know how much the general knew or suspected about the exchange he'd just witnessed.
Flint unfolded a map as she told them about her circuitous route to the safe house, and he and Duke used the landmarks she remembered to trace out her most likely path. When she reached the point where she had entered the bog, Flint looked up with an intense glare. "You knew you were entering hypothermia and you got into cold water?" he asked, his tone professional despite his expression.
"I think so. My memory isn't too clear at that point, things are confused. I think someone was following me."
He stared at her curiously. "Who was it? We didn't see anyone coming after you."
"I don't know," she said with an embarrassed shrug. "For all I know, it was just an animal."
"Don't worry about it. At that point, you weren't in any condition to be making judgment calls. And you really weren't in any shape to deal with a bear that woke up from hibernation in a pissed-off mood," Duke told her kindly.
The men finished asking questions and were gathering up their notes to leave when Flint paused, wanting to know how she had spotted the trap in the town square. She tried to tell them how she'd noticed the deception, what had drawn her attention to the unnatural behavior of the soldiers, but she didn't know if her description was clear.
"It was a matter of seeing the detail that was wrong. It's something I learned from acting; I'm not sure I can explain it better," she offered.
"Well, there's a reason why you're the best we have at this," he said sincerely, and the others added their agreement.
"I try my best," she said, gladly accepting the professional recognition. It wasn't something she craved or needed – a glory hound wouldn't last long on the team – but the acknowledgment still felt good.
"Is there anything you need?" Flint asked.
"A lift home?" she joked.
"Don't worry about that. The plane will be ready when the doctors release you," Hawk told her, pausing at the door. "You did a good job, Lady Jaye."
"Thank you, sir."
Knowing the others would be busy going over her report and having their own debriefings, she settled down to read the newspapers until lunch. At noon, she took a phone call from Dial Tone, laughing at the creative version of Old McDonald – extolling her fondness for goats – being sung in the background by various teammates.
Scarlett and Snakes came to visit later in the day, staying until the swarm of medical staff descended on her. Despite her protests, they wouldn't release her that night, saying her blood work was still slightly off. She did cheer up somewhat when the others came to eat dinner with her again, and Snake Eyes didn't hesitate to remove his mask and join them.
Flint was the last to leave, staying behind to gather up the trash and put the chairs away. He waved to Scarlett and Snake Eyes as they left, turning to Lady Jaye with a lopsided grin as he sat by her side.
"Stay in your own bed tonight," she said in mock-warning, chuckling at his exaggerated look of disappointment.
"Can I get you anything else before I go?"
"I'm fine."
"You're more than fine." He reached over to run his hand over her cheek, his fingers slowly and gently caressing her skin. "You're gorgeous."
Jaye leaned into his touch for a moment, laughing lightly as he pulled his hand away. "It's too bad I don't have any self-esteem issues. You'd do wonders for my ego."
"Oh, I plan to do wonders for you," he said huskily. "I'll add 'ego' to the list."
She closed her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. "Flint…"
"It's not a brag, it's a promise."
"Get out of here," she said with a smile. "Before I call your favorite nurse to drag you out again."
"I should wrap up the paperwork tonight. I'll be free tomorrow…"
"So go somewhere," she interrupted. "Wasn't Heidelberg home to some of your German Pietists? Go do something fun."
Flint cocked his head. "I think you're the only person in history to ever use 'German Pietist' and 'fun' in the same sentence."
"I'm serious. You guys have spent too much time worrying about me. Just because I'm stuck in here doesn't mean you have to baby-sit me. I want you to go do something for yourself tomorrow."
"And visiting you doesn't count?"
"You're going to be stuck with me for ten hours on the flight home," she said firmly but kindly.
He shrugged in acceptance, although his expression was confused. After standing up, he paused, staring at her for a moment.
"I'm not chasing you away," she reassured him with a teasing smile. "But you're starting to make me feel self-conscious. 'Covert' means not attracting attention."
He picked up her hand, being careful of the bruising from the IV as he ran his thumb over the top of it. "You nearly died. You scared m-, us."
"It wasn't intentional," she said softly. It was the closest he'd ever come to directly admitting a fear, and the significance wasn't lost on her. After a minute, she looked toward the door. "Did you climb up from the ground or down from the roof last night?"
"Huh?" he asked, startled by the sudden change in the conversation.
"The nurse from last night is coming. You better escape." Jaye pointed toward the door, chuckling as he rolled his eyes as he registered the voice. He ducked behind the door as the nurse entered, slipping out unseen.
Flint did stop in the next morning after breakfast, just to ask if she needed anything, and Jaye thought he looked disillusioned after she said no. He left the day's papers and headed out, pausing as if he was going to say something, but leaving quietly after a beat. When the door opened immediately again, she started to make a joke, but stopped in mid-sentence when General Hawk entered the room.
He told her to relax as he took a seat, explaining he was killing time between meetings with the local intelligence officials. Surprised by the social visit, she kept her responses cautious at first, but his manners and self-assured comportment reminded Lady Jaye of her father, and they soon settled into an effortless conversation about their favorite ski locations.
"You'll get a chance to try the slopes at Provo sooner than you think," he said mysteriously before leaving.
Early in the afternoon, the doctors ran a last series of tests and released her from the hospital with a warning to take it easy until her feet finished healing. As promised, a transport plane waited for them, and the group settled into a light conversation before they started to nap. Luckily, her wounds turned out to be more sore than serious, and she was able to walk into headquarters unassisted when they reached the States early the next morning.
Despite the hour, a large group was there to meet them, and Jaye returned the various greetings and well-wishes as someone shoved a bag of chips and a soda can into her hands. Even the normally stoic Spirit embraced her cordially as he welcomed her back, but Gung Ho surprised her with a hearty kiss on both cheeks as he lifted her up in a bear hug.
She blinked, too shocked to say anything as he set her down carefully, and Scarlett laughed at her expression. "I thought Duke was joking about him," Jaye said, glad Flint had missed the scene.
"Hey, is that how we're greeting Jaye? Count me in!" Shipwreck said, his arms open as he came up to her, settling for a quick pat on the back when Snake Eyes turned to gaze silently at him.
Lady Jaye was laughing with the sailor when someone pummeled her shoulder, and she turned to find Cover Girl pulling her into a fierce hug. "Don't scare us like that again!" the ex-model scolded her, lowering her voice so no else would overhear her. "Flint took it really hard."
"I know," she answered, somewhat overwhelmed by the reaction from her friends; it wasn't the first time one of her missions had run into trouble, but she'd never received a such a hearty reception before.
Beach Head eventually broke up the meeting with a bark of, "The rest of y'all have PT in five minutes! Get a move on, people!"
She headed back to the women's barracks with Scarlett and Cover Girl, the two of them fussing over her until she belted them with her pillow. After a long, hot shower, she changed into fresh BDUs and headed for the mess hall for breakfast. Scarlett and Snake Eyes were sitting at a table and waved her over.
"Well, thanks to you, we have the next four days off," Scarlett joked, handing Jaye her own paperwork. "Any plans?"
She shook her head as she took the pass. "I think I'm going to check into a hotel and sleep," she said wryly. "Maybe soak up some sun in the park."
"Then I have just the thing for you," Flint said from behind her.
Turning, she smiled approvingly; he was already in his civvies – khaki pants and a dark leather jacket over a blue shirt that matched his eye color. The clothes were of good quality and fit him well, highlighting his athletic build. Resting a large gym bag on the table, he pulled out some papers from his jacket pocket.
"The commissary was giving these away. I grabbed the last one for you," he said, passing her a flyer and a ticket to an all-day festival in the park, including performances from Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales and period music.
"Thanks, this sounds perfect," she said, not surprised when he waved to them and left without another word; he wouldn't announce his intentions to join her to see a production of a medieval classic to the entire mess hall.
It didn't take her long to change clothes, opting for casual and comfortable shoes, or to pack a small bag. She didn't take much, as she was serious about checking into a hotel to rest, and room service could provide anything else she needed.
A cab ride brought her to the park, and she walked the short distance to the make-shift stage. There was a small crowd under the trees, but she didn't see Flint anywhere. She opted for a seat under a huge oak that gave her a good view of the surrounding area. It wasn't long before she grew bored with the lackluster production and became curious as to why Flint hadn't joined her; it might have been the last ticket in the commissary, but there were plenty of available seats left.
Picking up her bag, she walked to a nearby restaurant for an early lunch, indulging in a gourmet treat. She took a casual stroll around the park, not really interested in watching the rest of the show, but not ready to check into a hotel, either. She was looking for a sunny spot to rest her aching feet when she spotted Flint sitting on an army blanket under a tree, reading something in a manila folder.
"I don't know whether to be impressed by your dedication or worried about your workaholic tendencies," she teased as she approached him.
"Hey," he said in surprise, sliding over to make room for her on the blanket. "I'm just catching up on some personal stuff."
Sitting down, she noted the neatly arranged stacks of bills, letters and magazines he was working his way through. "So, this is why you didn't come to the play. You'd rather spend your time with the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition than with me."
"That hasn't come out yet," he said, looking at her quizzically. "I thought you said I was trying too hard."
"You were."
"You didn't want me to visit you in the hospital, but going to a play would have been okay?" he asked seriously.
"I didn't want you spending all your time visiting me in the hospital," she corrected, pleased that he was taking her advice to heart. "And any endeavor that doesn't involve you actively trying to get me in bed would be fine."
He lifted an eyebrow as he peered over the top of the folder in his hands. "So, you don't want me to breathe."
"It is possible to think of something other than sex. Other men manage it just fine."
"No, they don't," Flint stated. "They just don't admit it's what they want."
"I'm never going to be able to listen to my parents' banter as they play bridge the same way again. Thanks a lot," Lady Jaye laughed, nudging his ribs. "Did you hear any of the show from here?"
"Some of it. Was it as bad as it sounded?"
"Pretty much. Is this your entire plan for your leave?" she asked, waving to the piles of paperwork around him.
"I hope not. Can you translate this for me?" he asked jokingly.
She took the mutual fund prospectus from him with an inquisitive glance. "I didn't know you invested."
"I try to put something away every month – just in case. Army disability payments aren't great, and if I never need it for that, it'll make retirement more comfortable."
She scanned the document quietly as he put one folder away and picked up the next. "If you're saving for the long-term, you'd do better with a growth fund rather than an index fund."
"You know the stock market?" he asked with so much surprise that she gave him a meaningful stare. "I mean, even with our bonuses, you don't get paid a lot at your rank. You're always generous when someone's raising money for something, and your stuff is always nice. I didn't think you'd have anything left to invest."
Lady Jaye accepted his explanation with a smile, leaning against the tree. She certainly wasn't embarrassed by her family's wealth, but it wasn't something she flaunted, either. Not only was it terribly gauche to do so, but it tended to make some people uneasy. She wondered how Flint's ego would handle the fact she had far more money than he stood to earn in his lifetime.
"One of my uncles is a stock broker. He never married or had children. From the time we were ten, he would give all the nieces and nephews a little bit of money every month on the condition that we had to keep it invested until we graduated from college. He showed us the ropes."
"So you really do understand this stuff," he said, sounding impressed. "Do you keep up with it?"
"I received a small inheritance from my grandmother when she died, and I use the interest off of that for extra spending money."
"I'm sorry. Were you close?" he asked sincerely.
"We were," she said, smiling sadly at the memories. "But she was suffering at the end. I think she was ready to go. What about you? It sounded like you miss your uncle."
"I do," he said, flipping through the folders until he reached a stack of postcards held together with a paperclip, tossing them to her. "My parents are in Mexico."
"Your mother sends you postcards from their vacations?" she asked with a teasing grin.
"She thinks it's a shame I never get to travel," he laughed. "It's not like we can tell people where we've been."
"Have you been home recently?"
"No," Flint answered, dropping the folder into his lap when she looked at him curiously. "The last two times I tried to visit, I got called back on a mission. My parents don't understand that it's not personal. They think that because I'm an officer, I have some sort of pull with assignments."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay. We keep in touch. And Mom and Aunt Betty don't hassle me as much about getting married over the phone," he said with a grin.
"I can see where that would terrify you," Jaye deadpanned.
"I have nothing against the idea. It's just not likely," Flint said slowly, letting out a long huff of breath. "With the hours we keep, always on standby to go on a mission, plans getting changed at the last moment, never knowing how long we're going to be overseas – it's hard to make anything work in those conditions. It's not … realistic … to expect something to last long."
"True," she said, unable to keep a slight feeling of unease at bay. Everything he just laid out was accurate, but for all his recent kindness, Jaye had suspected he'd only been interested in sex; she questioned if this was his way of telling her he wasn't looking for anything serious, or if he was only speaking in general terms.
They kept chatting while he worked his way through his bills, and he finally packed the last of his folders into his gym bag. They sat quietly for a moment, and the tension slowly built as they watched each other. His desire was obvious, as was his effort to resist making a pass at her.
"So, German Pietists influenced the Romantics," Jaye said, anxious for a distraction when the silence grew uncomfortable. "Tell me about that."
Flint eyed her suspiciously, and she gave him an encouraging look. "We're not on a mission, you don't have to worry about my confidence in you, and I'm serious."
"How much do you know about it?"
"Assume my philosophy knowledge is limited," she said, turning sideways to face him and settling against the tree as he started to talk. He was hesitant at first, but once he realized she was interested, Flint relaxed and began talking in earnest.
When she opened her eyes later, she immediately closed them again in embarrassment. Her head was resting on his knee, and his jacket was draped over her upper body.
"Falling asleep on you doesn't help my case that I was interested in what you had to say, does it?"
Flint laughed self-deprecatingly. "You've had a rough week."
"That's no excuse. You should have woken me up," she said, sitting up and handing him his jacket. "You wasted an entire afternoon."
"I didn't mind. I'm sure I was the envy of every guy who walked by."
"Technically, I've already slept with you and everyone on the team knows it," she said in jest. "You can turn down the charm."
"That wasn't what I'd call a fun experience, or one that I'd want to repeat," he said solemnly, and she regretted teasing him about it.
Standing, she stretched and held her hand out to him. "I need some food to take my medicine with. Care to join me?"
They walked to a nearby coffee shop, settling down with a plate of biscotti and muffins. Lady Jaye watched Flint carefully, weighing her conflicting emotions.
"You seem lost in thought," he said after a while.
"You confuse me," she admitted.
Flint appeared surprised, tilting his head as he asked, "How?"
"You always carry shotguns shells on your web-gear, but you hardly ever use a shotgun," she joked, stalling for time.
He gave her a half-hearted grin. "I don't think that's what has you so quiet."
"Why are you risking your career over a quick roll in the hay?"
"Well, there's two things wrong with your assessment," he answered lightly. "First, do you really think I'm desperate enough that I'd go to this much trouble for a one-night stand? Wait, on second thought, maybe I don't want your answer," he chuckled, holding up his hands in mock-defeat.
Jaye gave him a half-amused smirk. "And secondly?"
"There wouldn't be anything 'quick' about it; I guarantee you'll have no complaints about the duration."
She set her coffee mug down, giving him a disappointed look. "Ugh. You were doing so well there. At least you said 'duration' and not 'length'."
"I didn't think of that double entendre. That would have been a better line," he laughed.
"Not really."
"Well, I don't think you'll find any shortcomings in that regard."
"What's the longest you've gone without bragging about something, Flint? An hour?" she asked impatiently.
"That actually wasn't a boast," he started to joke, stopping when he realized she didn't find it amusing. "Is it bragging if it's true?"
"Yes!" Lady Jaye said, shaking her head as she watched him. "Otherwise it's delusional."
Flint was quiet for a long moment, fiddling with the mug in his hand. When he looked up, his expression was completely serious. "I find false modesty to be disingenuous. And, frankly, in our line of work, it's dangerous. When we're on a mission, we need to know exactly what everyone is capable of. Denying an ability is as bad as claiming skills you don't have."
He paused again, finally rolling his shoulders. "When I tell you something, it's the truth, as best as I'm able to present it. You can trust what I tell you."
"Plenty of people are honest without coming across as braggarts."
"It's who I am," Flint said quietly, shrugging as he picked up his mug.
"Yeah, I suppose it is," she answered, confusing him with an affectionate smile.
Their fingers brushed as they both reached for the last muffin, and he covered her hand with his, squeezing gently. She twined her fingers around his, savoring his touch; the tenderness he showed her was such a stark contrast to the roughness of his ego. Their breathing grew ragged until he pulled back suddenly, looking away as he flexed his hands.
"You have it; you missed lunch because of me," she said, excusing herself and heading to the restroom. She paused at the payphone on the wall by the door, looking back to see Flint breaking the muffin in half, his posture tense.
"Damn it," Jaye swore sadly.
She wasn't toying with his feelings, and hurting him was the last thing she wanted to do; if anything, she cared too much for him already. But her hesitance – when it was clear she was attracted to him – had to be hard on Flint. Hell, it was hard on her.
As much as she wanted to build a solid friendship with him first, the unresolved sexual tension was a problem, presenting an obstacle to how close they could get until it was resolved.
So resolve it.
A quick phone call and dropping the family name set her plan in motion, and she approached the table apprehensively. It was a crazy idea – get the sex out of the way so they could grow closer and become lovers – but something had to be done.
"I know a place that fixes a great steak," Lady Jaye told him. "Can your ego handle a woman buying you dinner?"
His smile was genuine, even if his voice was a bit strained. "If you let me treat you to something later."
Despite her nervousness, she laughed. "I'm impressed. A loaded statement like that, and you didn't make it sound suggestive at all."
"It took an effort," Flint said dryly, offering his arm to her as they reached the sidewalk.
He darted his eyes towards her as she led him to a hotel, and she smiled. "I'm going to check in first and drop off my bag."
"Oh," he said, trying not to sound let down, but his attention soon shifted to the red sports car parked in front of the building.
Inside, the car's owner was happy to talk about it, and the two men were too busy with their conversation to notice the fawning manager greeting Lady Jaye. Flint did look up in time to see her crossing the lobby, and he jogged over to join her.
"You know what they say about guys and big sports cars," Jaye teased as they entered the elevator.
"They like things fast and powerful."
"Right."
"You don't appreciate a work of art when you see it."
"It's an eighty-four Lamborghini Countach," she said, raising an eyebrow playfully. "I've driven one before."
"No way! What was it like?"
She gave him a wicked smile. "Personally, I think the Ferrari 512 handles better."
"You're pulling my leg," he said, but smiling enviously as she provided detailed information on the cars.
When she reached her door, he waited in the hallway until she told him he could come inside. Scanning the suite, he let out a soft whistle. "This is nice."
It was actually one of the hotel's smaller luxury suites, but she didn't tell him that, instead setting her bag down on the table, and slipping off her shoes and jacket. "I always felt if you're going to do something, you should do it right."
Lady Jaye smiled as Flint fidgeted, glancing around the room. It was clear he was fighting the urge to make a suggestive comment now that he was so close to her bedroom; he was trying so hard not to try too hard, and it was adorable.
"Do you prefer 'Dashiell', or is "Dash' okay?" she asked, quietly closing the distance between them.
"There's not much you can do to improve the name. Why?" he asked, looking startled when he turned around and found her directly in front of him.
"Because I think there's something inherently wrong with using a codename in bed," she answered, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him before he had time to react.
Her lips curled in a smile as his gym bag landed on the floor with a loud thump, but she was soon moaning as he deepened the kiss, pulling her close against his body.
"I take it you can wait for dinner," she panted when he finally broke off the kiss.
"Oh, yeah," he groaned, cupping her jaw in his hand and capturing her lips again.
When they pulled apart, she saw his lopsided grin and knew he was getting one of his corny lines ready. "Don't say anything to make me regret this," she said, surprised by how much emotion ended up in her statement.
"I won't," Flint said, brushing his hand across her cheek. "Scout's honor."
"When were you ever in …"
He bent down to kiss her, lifting her body easily, and her arms went around his neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist. After a few steps, he stopped and looked around.
"The bed's that way," she said, pulling away long enough to point in the right direction.
TBC