Jack wakes up slowly, awareness filtering in by degrees. Awareness of things like the crick in his neck, the sharp pain in his spine, the hard surface pressing into his cheek. The soft clicking noise repeating just off to his left. He groans and levers himself upright, rubbing at his neck as he tries to stretch. A weight slides off his lap and he blinks blearily down to see a blurry blob that must be his computer on its side next to him, flattening the messed up blankets. Jack reaches over to grope across the nightstand for his glasses but the top is empty. Someone giggles and Jack just about has a heart attack before he remembers where he is.
Oh, right. Hana.
"Here," she says, pushing his glasses into his hand. "I grabbed them before you rolled over on them."
"Thanks," he says, voice gravelly. She giggles again and he notices her phone is in her hand. He frowns.
"Oh, don't worry. It's nothing too embarrassing." Hana's face is creased in a devious smile and Jack lunges to grab the phone. She squawks and throws herself backwards off the bed, keeping it well out of his reach. Jack reaches up to straighten his glasses and feels the divots and ridges crisscrossing his cheek in a square-like pattern. He looks down at the keyboard he'd apparently used a as a pillow after he'd fallen asleep over his computer and sighs.
He extracts himself from the twist of blankets and tries to work the kinks out of his back. "None of those had better end up on the internet."
Hana hums, sitting cross legged on the desk and twirling a swath of hair between her fingers. "Maybe. If you make it worth my while."
Jack chuckles. "How does breakfast sound?"
Hana shrugs, unimpressed. "You have to feed me either way," she says.
"Yeah," Jack says as he gathers up his clothes. "But we're talking the difference between real food from an actual restaurant and toast from the lobby downstairs. Your choice."
"Aww," Hana pouts but she's grinning. She heaves a very put upon sigh. "Then I guess I'll have to save them until that threat's not valid anymore."
Jack stops just inside the bathroom and points a menacing finger at her. "You don't want to go to war with me, kid," he says and shuts the door.
He can hear her laugh through the thin wood. "Bring it on, old man!"
Despite the looming threat, Jack follows Hana's directions to a small local diner and lets her get a stack of pancakes as big as her head. He plants his laptop on the table and they start the arduous and sobering process of making funeral arrangements.
Somewhere around Jack's fifth cup of coffee, his phone buzzes. He ignores it at first. But when it keeps buzzing he realizes it's an actual phone call instead of a text. Hana leans over to look at the small display and pokes it across the table toward him. "Who's Wilhelm?"
"Reinhardt Wilhelm," Jack says absently, leaving it on the table to finish filling out the flower order form he's halfway through. "Friend of mine in LA. I'll call him back." Hana shrugs, going back to her list of people that need to be contacted on the tablet she'd pulled out of her backpack.
The phone buzzes again. Jack sighs and flips it open. "Hey."
"Hello!" Reinhardt's voice is tinny through the line. "And how are you both this morning?"
"We're hanging in there," Jack says, bracing his shoulder against the phone so he can keep typing. "Did CPS call?"
"Not yet," Reinhardt says. There's a weird rushing noise in the background of the call. "I expect I will hear from them soon. I have passed the word along to Ana as well, she is ready for them."
"Thanks. What's up?"
"I was just wondering which Hampton you two are staying in."
Jack sits straight up and almost drops the phone. He's known Reinhardt a long time and his suspicions are instantly raised. "Why?"
"Oh, no particular reason! I merely happen to be in town. I thought I would drop by and lend a hand."
"You what?" Jack snaps. "How are you in town? Weren't you in LA yesterday?"
"Well, you see," Reinhardt says, patience radiating from his voice as if he's explaining something to a small child. "The usual method is to get into a car and drive—"
"That's not what I meant," Jack says. Hana's watching him intently across the table and he waves her back to her list. "What are you doing up here?"
"Jack," Reinhardt says. "I am sure you can figure it out. Now where should I meet you? Your drinks are getting cold."
Jack pushes a hand up under his glasses to cover his eyes and sighs. He gives Reinhardt directions to the hotel and hangs up, looking across the table to Hana. "So Reinhardt's in town."
"I heard," she says, chin propped up in her palm. "What's he up here for?"
"Us," Jack says, packing up his computer. Hana raises an eyebrow and he gestures to her bag. "Come on, I think we've hogged the table long enough."
"What do you mean 'us'?" Hana asks as they head to the car.
"I talked to him yesterday, warned him about being one of my references. I'm guessing he hit the road as soon as he got up this morning to come help out."
Hana pauses with her hand on the open car door, one foot poised in the air. "Why? He doesn't even know me."
Jack shrugs. "That's Reinhardt."
They beat him to the hotel by minutes, barely out onto the sidewalk as he swerves into the lot and parks his truck. Reinhardt throws open the door and jumps onto the pavement, towering over them both. Hana takes a step back and looks vaguely alarmed.
"Hello, my friends!" Reinhardt booms with an enthusiastic wave. He reaches back into the cab and pulls out a drink carrier, stomping over to meet them. He hands a large paper cup to Jack and says, "A caramel macchiato with an extra shot for you, since I know your ridiculous American sugar is very important to you." Hana snorts and he smiles at her as Jack rolls his eyes. Reinhardt hands Hana another cup. "And hot chocolate with extra whipped cream for you!"
Hana grins widely. "Okay, you can stay. I'm Hana."
"A pleasure to meet you! I am Reinhardt." He gives Hana an overdramatic bow as they head inside. "I am here to fulfill any need you may have. Do not hesitate to ask!"
"Don't you have a deadline?" Jack asks, eyebrow raised.
"Yes, of course I do. There are always deadlines," Reinhardt says, winking at Hana. "I love to watch them as they fly by. Sometimes I wave."
Hana laughs and Jack can't help a chuckle himself. Reinhardt gets himself a room and they drop his bags off before heading back to Jack and Hana's. Jack pulls his laptop out again but Hana groans, flopping over on her bed. "Do we have to keep working on this stuff?" she pouts.
"We need to have everything organized by Thursday," Jack says. "But I guess we could break for a while."
"Yes!" Hana punches the air.
"What would you rather do?" Jack asks.
"Anything," Hana whines. She hesitates, then looks shyly up at them through her bangs. "I kinda want…to go shopping." Jack's stomach drops. He'd completely forgotten about a pretty basic need, yet again. He mentally kicks himself; he's totally nailing this guardian thing already. How the hell had he convinced a court of professionals he could do this?
And she says it like she's unsure either of them would agree to such a thing. Jack can't really blame her. But Reinhardt surprises her again and leaps to his feet. "That is a wonderful idea! Just the thing you need. You must replenish your wardrobe, after all."
Hana's face lights up with the broadest smile Jack's seen from her all day. Jack grins back and grabs his keys. "Then let's roll out."
Hana's a pretty sharp girl and seems to have a good grasp on the basic laws of physics because she plows into the back seat and immediately pulls out her phone. Jack's pleased that her photos of his keyboard face from this morning now have company with the ones she takes as Reinhardt crams himself into the passenger seat like a one man game of twister. Once everyone's as situated as they can be, Reinhardt with one elbow sticking out the window, Hana directs Jack to a mall.
They pile out and follow her as she makes a beeline for a shop that's straight out of Jack's worst nightmare. It's overflowing with every kind of rhinestone, sequin, and glitter ever invented by mankind. And it's overwhelmingly pink.
Jack snags Hana's elbow before she can clear the threshold. He shakes his head as she turns a finely tuned beseeching look on him. "Real clothes first," he says, spinning her around and sending her off in the direction of a one of the bigger stores.
Hana pouts but trudges along as Reinhardt nudges him with an elbow. "Now, Jack," he starts in an impressively low voice for his lung capacity. "You will let her go to her store, ja?"
Jack takes one look back at it over his shoulder and shudders. "Yeah," he grouses. "Later."
Reinhardt nods with a knowing smile, satisfied for the moment. Jack knows his fate is sealed but tries to push it to the back of his mind. He follows the two inside the big store and they each drift toward different racks, picking up items as they go. Jack's careful to keep Hana in sight at all time as he adds shirts he thinks look reasonable to his arms.
But when they regroup by the changing rooms, both Hana and Reinhardt give him identical incredulous expressions. He looks down at his pile and frowns at them. "What?"
"Seriously?" Hana says as she pokes at one of the plain blue t-shirts he'd grabbed like it's some weird specimen she's never seen before.
Reinhardt guffaws and shakes his head. "Jack never did have what you might call a sense of style," he says. He holds out his own selections for them to inspect and Hana coos happily over the prints and bright colors he offers. Jack glances at his own the array of darker, solid colored shirts and sighs, dumping the pile onto the return cart.
"No, hang on." Hana rifles through it to snag one or two black ones. "Doesn't hurt to have a few basics," she says like he should know what that means. She pauses as the pile shifts enough to uncover the one t-shirt with a design he had selected. She stares at the dark blue shirt with the pale pink line drawing of a bunny covering the front for a long moment. Reinhardt and Jack say nothing, waiting for her next move.
She finally snatches it up without a word and darts into the changing room.
Jack shares a shrug with Reinhardt as they settle in to wait for her to pick her favorites. Jack expects to be bored—right up until Hana throws open the door and strikes a pose, clad in a pair of pink capris and the bunny t-shirt. Reinhardt claps like it's a fashion show and Jack feels a warmth build in his chest. He doesn't bother hiding the grin that spreads across his face.
It definitely makes that terrible store full of nothing but sparkly bangles much more bearable, even if the cash register totals at both stores make him want to cringe. He's very thankful for his untouched savings account of old army hazard pay—for however long it lasts.
Jesse sits curled up in the corner booth at the coffee shop with his notes and textbooks spread open across the table like some educational mountain range. But his attention is focused on his laptop, perched on top of the thickest book. The newest episode of one of Gabe's telenovas plays out across the screen, positioned just so that he also has a clear view to the front counter. Where Hanzo may or may not be taking order after order at the register.
It really makes following the episode more of a challenge than it should be.
Even so, he's getting absorbed in it when a body flops down into the booth next to him. Jesse nearly leaps out of his skin as a head full of spiky brown hair lands on his shoulder. "Wotcha watching?" Lena asks, turning the laptop to examine the drama playing out on the screen.
Jesse pulls out the right earbud and hands it to her as he puts his other hand to his heart. "Good lord, woman. Warn a guy next time."
Lena gives him a bright smile as she puts in the earbud and scoots over even further, pressed fully up against him to see better. Jesse extracts his right arm from under her and lays it around her shoulders to get it out of the way. Lena's face goes wild with exaggerated disbelief. "Is this a bloody soap opera?"
"Telenova," Jesse says. "And you're damn right. Now are you goin' to watch or just complain about it? Daniella's about to find out if Raphael's been cheatin' on her this whole time."
Lena oohs appreciatively and snuggles in to watch. She's attentive through the rest of the episode, making jokes and commenting on the characters' choices despite the fact Jesse knows she doesn't understand a word of the Spanish dialogue. He reaches to turn the subtitles on once and she slaps his hand away. "I like trying to guess," she says. "Tell me at the end what I got right."
Jesse chuckles. "Suit yourself." He glances over her head every now and then at the counter while she's distracted, not that there's much point in hiding how far gone he is from her. Business seems steady and Hanzo is in constant motion, though Jesse could swear he looks towards the corner booth once or twice. Jesse tries to catch his eye and give him a smile but Hanzo turns away to address a new customer. Jesse deflates a little.
Lena pats his hand sympathetically without looking away from the screen and Jesse sighs.
When the episode wraps up, Lena turns sideways in the booth to face him. "So here's my recap. Miguel runs an illegal gambling business and the cops are closing in, the tall guy—is that Alejandro?"
"Diego," Jesse corrects. "Alejandro's the short one."
"Whatever," Lena says as she waves an airy hand. "Diego fights crime by night in a mask and Rita's amnesia keeps her from remembering she's a lost heiress. Also Raphael's a tosser and Daniella should run for president."
"Well," Jesse laughs, "you got the last part right."
"I love it already," Lena says. "Is there more?"
"Nope." Jesse shuts the laptop and leans back. "Next episode ain't droppin' for a few days.
"Aww," Lena whines. "I was really getting into that. Probably for the best, though." She checks her phone. "Got a study group in a few minutes so I should run." She frowns, squinting at him in concentration. "I came by to tell you something and now I can't remember what it was."
"Tell me somethin' real or to complain about physics again?"
"My nemesis," Lena sighs, complete with dramatic hand pressed to her brow. "I can't wait to get through this general nonsense and into the mechanics, that's when it gets interesting."
"You might," Jesse says with a shudder as Lena climbs out of the booth and shoulders her bag. He crawls out next to her and stretches. "I ain't goin' near this subject ever again if I survive it."
"Cheer up, love," Lena says. "It'll only get worse from there!"
"You have a serious misunderstandin' of what 'pep talk' means," Jesse laughs.
Lena winks and turns to go, spinning back around after two steps. "Oh, I remember! You're free on Saturday, right?"
"Yeah," he says suspiciously. "Why? Thought it was an away game this week. We tailgatin' anyway?"
"Nope. We need another tall bloke for our ultimate frisbee team, so I signed you up."
"You what?" he sputters.
"Mate, are you going to look me in the eye and say no to ultimate frisbee?"
Jesse pretends to consider the matter carefully before shrugging. "No, I ain't. Guess I'm on the team."
"Great! Practice is on Saturday morning," Lena says and gives him a playful shove when he groans. "I know you're capable of waking up, I've seen you do it! I'll even bring you coffee. I have faith in you."
"It's wildly misplaced," Jesse says, picking up his coffee mug.
"Possibly," Lena agrees with a smile, going up on her tiptoes to peck him on the cheek. "You're the best, love. Gotta run!" He gives her a quick hug and waves her off, shaking his head as he walks over to the counter. Hanzo looks up as he approaches and Jesse holds out the paltry fare for a refill.
Hanzo doesn't move to take it, fixing his gaze on Jesse's offering. "I am not sure I should let you have more coffee," he says. "How many cups will this be?"
"Listen," Jesse says, pleased deep down that Hanzo is keeping track of him even if it's purely for business purposes. "You wouldn't be so cruel to come between a man and what's replacin' his lifeblood, wouldja?"
"Do not be so certain," Hanzo says with a straight face, although Jesse thinks one corner of his mouth twitches. But he does take the money and follows as Jesse moves to the self-serve carafes, checking the level in each one. He picks up an empty one but pauses and gives Jesse a considering look. Jesse feels a little shiver run down his spine. "Tell me," Hanzo says. "Do you plan to take up residence in that booth for the duration?"
Jesse swallows. "What do you mean?"
"You have been there all evening. Did something happen to the room that I should know about?"
"Oh," Jesse laughs a little self-consciously. "No, it's still standin'. But the guys next door were settin' off what sounded like fireworks so I high tailed it." If anything, Jesse's grateful to have Jamie and Mako as neighbors; he gets the sense that excuse is never going to run dry.
"So it would be better to say it was still standing last you were there," Hanzo says.
Jesse leans on the counter and grins. "Yeah, I guess that'd be more accurate."
Hanzo hums and shifts the empty carafe in his grip, drawing Jesse's gaze. His fingers are heavily calloused, but Jesse can't tell what might have caused them. Maybe guitar strings? But he's seen no evidence of any musical instruments around their room. He realizes he's been staring too long again when Hanzo clears his throat. "Did you need anything further? Or are you content to wind yourself up like a live wire?"
"Oh, nope. I'm good." Jesse lifts the cup and nods before beating a hasty retreat. Hanzo walks into the back room without a second glance and Jesse curls up in his corner booth. He pulls his hat down over his face and groans into the worn leather.
A text alert interrupts his self-pity session. Jesse peeks one eye out from under his hat to check his phone.
sombra : ughh fuck raphael
sent : thought you didn't care about that kind of stuff
sombra : of course not
sombra : doesn't mean i like watching her put up with it
Jesse chuckles, shoving his hat back to its usual place.
sent : fair. and yeah, fuck that guy
sombra : gabe hasn't stopped swearing at him
sombra : it's hilarious
Out of the corner of his eye, Jesse sees Hanzo return from the back room and resume his place at the register. Jesse twists so he's wedged against the wall and settles back, trying his damnedest to make it look natural. He props his phone up on his knees to keep a nice line of sight.
sombra : she needs to date diego, he's cool
sent : i mean, agreed. but how do you figure
sent : they've never even met
Hanzo comes around the counter to straighten up the little cabinet with napkins and cream just to Jesse's right. He gets a little distracted watching him, clearly defined muscles rippling beneath Hanzo's usual long sleeved black shirt. The ridiculous shop apron he has to wear does nothing to detract from the view.
Jesse gives him a smile and Hanzo nods to him as he walks back to the counter. Jesse counts it as a win.
He looks back down to the small essay that's poured in while his attention was elsewhere.
sombra : they're a good match
sombra : complement each other well, they'd get along great
sombra : i know people, it's not that hard
sombra : all she'd have to do is talk about dogs and flutter her eyelashes just right and she'd have him hooked
Jesse grins wolfishly at the screen. This opportunity it too good to pass up.
sent : oh are you giving out dating advice now?
sombra : NO
sent : because it just so happens i've got a conundrum myself
sombra : dije que no
sent : you'd desert me in my hour of need?!
sombra : i can't help you
sombra : you don't have the eyelashes for it
Jesse laughs and sits up, pulling a textbook back in front of him. But he can't resist one parting shot.
sent : cierra la bocca
sent : my eyelashes are fabulous
sombra : ;)
Translations:
Dije que no - I said no
Cierra la bocca - Shut your mouth