Saul unlocks his front door while Jesse rounds the house curiously. He'd spotted the garden as soon as they'd pulled up, and he's hoping to find more wrapping around the back. He doesn't hold out much hope that Saul may have pot growing in some secluded section, but you never know.
Jesse swipes a small tomato from the vine and bites into it happily on his way past. The garden doesn't extend this far, but the backyard isn't vacant. There's a locked shed, a small pile of discarded gardening tools, some giant planters filled with sickeningly sweet smelling flowers, and a small birdbath in which a tiny, blue bird is splashing around.
The bird hops onto the stone ledge of the bath, dripping and tilting its head curiously at Jesse. They both stare at each other for a long beat. Jesse refuses to give into baser instincts – such as pouncing to catch the fluffy little bastard, which would be very satisfying – and instead watches intently as the bird eventually resumes splashing around in the clear water.
"Jesse, a little help?"
Jesse turns at the sound of Saul's voice calling from the front yard. He makes his way back to the front of the house, snagging a couple of sugar snap peas from the garden. Just as he bites into one of the pods, Saul's disapproving sigh sounds from beside the car.
"The least you could do is help me with these case files before you wipe out my entire return, kid."
Jesse watches as Saul drags a third case of files out the trunk of his car and onto the curb with the other two. He shrugs and looks back over his shoulder to the garden. "How come you don't have any fruit planted?" He asks, instead of engaging. As his eyes drift, he catches sight of something neon green peeking over the slant of Saul's pyramidal roof. He edges near the building in his curiosity.
"Because, the seeds didn't take to the soil," Saul replies distractedly, pulling out a fourth case from the trunk. "I'm still learning."
"You've got a frisbee on your roof," Jesse informs him helpfully, having yet to assist with the boxes.
"Trust me, it's not for decoration. I've been meaning to borrow a ladder from the neighbor because I don't own one. I definitely want that stupid green—"
His words die off as Jesse runs a few steps forward before jumping in a long arc. He connects with the house with one shin dropped and lined against it, planting his other foot drawn high in alignment with his hips while lifting his hands to slap down on the roof – over the flimsy gutter to avoid dislodging it – in one smooth motion. Jesse pulls himself up with little effort, gravity forcing his muscles to strain only a little. He keeps his weight even as he steps onto the roof, quickly retrieving the bright toy and tossing it down to Saul.
The flying disc smacks into Saul's chest, the man having made no effort at all to catch it, staring dumbfounded at the blond standing on his roof.
Jesse laughs. "Man, you suck at this game."
Saul gives a start, and grins up at Jesse while he rubs absentmindedly at his chest where the toy caught him. He's barely opened his mouth to ask how Jesse will get down when the blond suddenly takes another two running steps and leaps off the roof, legs kicked up over his head in a flip.
Jesse keeps his spine curved, head tilted back as he flips, eyes on his landing zone. He lands on the balls of his feet after one rotation, all loose-jointed to absorb the impact uniformly. He springs forward with the momentum, rolling on the grass into a small tuck before he straightens again to stand an arm's length away from Saul.
"Jesus, kid," Saul gives a shaky laugh. "You're gonna give me a heart attack. You're trouble, aren't you?"
Jesse falters at those words. He knows he's trouble, he'd just hoped it'd take Saul longer to figure it out; that they'd have longer to continue whatever it is they've started before Saul ditched him as a lost cause. But Saul's smiling at him, and the blond belatedly realizes it was said in a fond tone, rather than an accusatory one, and it isn't but a second after he's realized that that Saul's drawing Jesse forward tenderly by the jaw into a kiss.
The DA is smiling when he drops his hand from Jesse's cheek. "Thanks, Jesse."
Pleased by his reward, Jesse crowds into the other man's space and steals another kiss, tilting his head up a touch to slot their mouths together. Saul keeps it fairly brief, but still manages to teasingly swipe his tongue across Jesse's lower lip, sparking a fire that has Jesse nosing against the DA's neck for a moment after they part. He finally focuses on the boxes of files at their feet. "How many of those did you load up?" While he'd been righting the fallen chairs in the lobby and gathering all the spoils from his victory, he'd protectively watched Saul make a couple trips to the car before they left the office for Drew's, but had no idea he'd been stashing away that many boxes.
"Just a few," Saul grumbles, eyeing the inside of the trunk sheepishly.
Jesse smirks, finally eating his last stolen pod he has clutched in his hand and rounding the car to stare into the trunk. "Yeah, just a few," he echoes, counting three more boxes in the car. "How'd you even manage that? The trunk is small…"
"It's bigger on the inside," Saul says with a dopey grin, looking to Jesse expectantly.
Jesse raises an eyebrow, the reference flying so far over his head that it's in the stratosphere.
"Aww, you're killing me, kid," Saul says with a smile and a disappointed shake of his head. "Fine, how about, I'm a Tetris master?"
The blond snorts. "Nerd," he says fondly, reaching into the trunk to drag the last of the boxes out.
Together they carry all seven up to the front door. It stands wide open, but Jesse is still hesitant to be the first to walk in. It seems kinda rude. So he waits for Saul to make the first trip over the threshold. Just as Jesse crosses that border, a steady, high-pitched hum assaults his ears. He freezes where he stands, eyes wide and ears pressing flat to his skull. His headache, which had been mostly dormant until this point, revs back to life at the piercing sound. A series of tremors travel up his spine at the consistent noise and he shakes himself. Saul seems completely oblivious to the horrible screeching hum, walking further into the house. The man's saying something, but Jesse can't focus.
"Saul," he chokes out. The blond drops the box in his arms, and only then does Saul notice something's wrong. Jesse staggers back onto the walkway outside, eyes still wide, stomach roiling with nausea.
The DA is next to him immediately, both hands clasped firmly over Jesse's shoulders. "What? What is it? Jesse, are you alright?"
Jesse shivers again. He clenches his teeth at the residual feeling of tinnitus and fixes his eyes on Saul. "Something's wrong." He glances back to the doorway. "With your house," he clarifies.
Saul stares at him, expression shifting subtly from concern to confusion. "What do you mean?"
"There's a, like, a, uhm… Okay, so, in one of the games we play, when you enter hostile territory, the game warns you with a sound. Or, y'know, like, when you step on a mine, after that distinct click, there's this whine. And you have a few seconds to get away, 'cause it's a game, but that whine, it's piercing, and…" Jesse shivers again. "Your house, it's got that, that warning sound."
Saul's brow furrows in confusion and he glances back at his house. "A high whine?" He leaves Jesse and turns back to go inside again.
Jesse's too shocked to act immediately, but when he snaps to awareness again, he makes a swipe for Saul. He misses, and lunges forward to paw at his suit jacket again, this time grabbing it in a tight fist. "No, dammit, I meant, don't go in there, because there is something wrong," he growls.
Saul brushes a thumb tenderly over Jesse's cheek, just under his bruise, and smiles. "It's alright, Jesse, I think I know what the sound is."
The man stubbornly walks back into the house again, and Jesse follows, muscles coiled in preparation to pull Saul out of danger when it inevitably strikes.
They make their way into the living room, Jesse focused too closely on Saul's broad shoulders to take in any of the décor. As they near the charcoal grey sofa, the sound increases and the hair on the back of his neck stands up. Jesse claps his hands over his ears, pressing his beanie tightly over them to muffle the noise. He cringes, resisting the urge to run, but only by brutal determination not to leave Saul's side. He watches Saul crouch to the outlet on the wall, unplugging the only device there with a solid tug. The screeching wail stops immediately.
When Saul turns around, his expectant look dips into sorrow at the sight Jesse makes. He reaches up and tugs one of Jesse's hands free. "Can you still hear it, the noise? Or was this it?" He lifts the small device up again – it resembles a nightlight without the bulb.
Jesse glares at it. "Think that was it," he admits. He drops his other hand, but his ears are still ringing slightly and they stay pinned to his head under his hat. "What the hell is it?"
"It's meant to keep bugs away. Spiders, scorpions, that sort of thing. It emits a frequency they're supposedly meant to hate. I've had mixed results – didn't know if it really worked at all, since I couldn't hear anything." He tosses it onto the sofa and reaches up, slipping the beanie off Jesse's head to hand it to the blond before gently running his fingers over his pinned ears, frowning mildly.
Jesse kneads contentedly at his beanie, stepping closer, eager for the gentle touch. The echoing buzz gradually fades and his headache recedes as Saul pets him, massaging his skull at the base of his ears, never dipping back as far as his stitches, and dragging his fingers through the fur of his ears. The blond closes his eyes, rumbling purr skating up his throat.
"Oh, sweet boy," Saul murmurs affectionately.
Jesse ducks his head, flushing at the endearment. Warmth blooms in his chest, and he's unable to hide the smile that spreads across his face. He buries his nose in the juncture between Saul's neck and shoulder, wrapping his arms around the older man and pulling him closer.
"Let's bring in the rest of my files, and we'll get dinner started."
The lawyer pauses as they pass a door near the entryway, opening it to reveal a bathroom. In a smooth arc, he tosses the insect repellant device into the trash bin. He gives one of Jesse's ears one more passing caress before he steps back out onto the stoop.
Jesse follows him out, smiling adoringly.
||[]||[]||[]||[]||
Turns out Saul had brought all his files with him, due to the fear of having them lost to an 'accidental' fire at the office, which he feels could totally happen within the next couple days. He admitted he isn't positive that Bustamante would retaliate in that manner, but apparently something similar had happened before in the man's past, and he wasn't willing to take any risks with his work.
Jesse can't help feeling guilty over it. Given the chance, however, he wouldn't do anything differently. He's confident he'd still defend Saul in the same manner.
Still, he feels like too much an invader in Saul's home, after having caused so much trouble. He quickly ensures Saul's case files are adequately stored before making the decision to retreat to the garden again. The sun is nearly set, casting long shadows throughout the yard. He fills the frisbee with water from the tap next to the birdbath for lack of a better container and carefully carries it to the garden. He waters a few of the plants sparingly, clumsily trying to divide the water evenly, spilling just as much as he means to purposefully give.
He digs into the fresh soil for a few moments, just to feel the dirt between his fingers. He startles when an unexpected shadow suddenly falls over him, the wind carrying any alerting scents away from him. He turns with an excuse prepared on his tongue to explain his avoidance of the house interior to Saul, but freezes when he realizes it isn't Saul behind him.
An older, bald man looms over him, hands concealed in his dark jacket. He has a sparsely filled in white beard and droopy eyes which are currently fixed on Jesse with an unimpressed glint.
"Get up, punk. Slowly."
"What?"
"You have three seconds," he says gruffly.
Jesse frowns, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He scents the air and catches a flash of aggression seconds before the man strikes out at him. Jesse springs back, slipping between the sunflowers and cucumbers before rolling beneath another wild grab. He freezes at the sight of the man drawing a gun from his jacket; the consequence for his hesitation is a solid pistol whipping across his cheek and jaw. Jesse grunts, immediately pushing the pain aside to engage wholeheartedly. He fleetingly considers the gun he'd earned earlier, but it's inside the house along with both of his knives. Idiot. Jesse hopes he'll get the chance to laugh about this later.
He doesn't have much time to berate himself before the man is aiming the gun to put it to its intended use. This bastard's gotta be one of Bustamante's men. The fact that he's on Saul's property is unacceptable.
Jesse leaps forward with a wild growl. He ducks under the man's outstretched arm, delivering an uppercut with enough force to make the man's head crack back. He grabs hold of the gun, wrestling the man for it. It only takes a breath for Jesse to realize he's not going to win control over it, avoiding two fierce punches with slinking dips of his spine. He sidesteps the man, clutching the gun and twisting up and back to spin his opponent into an awkward position, his arm nearly choking himself with as high and tight Jesse has it pulled back.
Just as he man turns with him to free himself from their awkward dance, Jesse claws at the magazine release. He earns a jarring fist to his ribs and he winces, choking back a cry as the damaged bones protest with sharp twinges. The dropped magazine falls and Jesse uses an aimed kick with the broad front of his shoe to knock it up as though it were a hacky sack.
The man grabs him by the throat roughly, muttering expletives under his breath as he continually tries to free the gun from Jesse's grasp. Jesse aggressively drops head forward, jaw trapping the man's hand in place against his clavicles to prevent himself from being fully choked. He watches the clip fall from the corner of his eye, kicking it away this time, far across the yard just as he draws his fist back to release it into the man's gut, upward into his sternum.
The man grunts, dropping his hand from Jesse's neck and grabbing that arm instead, wrenching it up and back behind Jesse's spine into a hammerlock, high enough that it forces a whimper from the blond's throat. Jesse regretfully releases his hold on the gun, lifting up onto his toes to avoid having his shoulder torn from the socket. He moves with the unrelenting pressure, eventually having to show the man his back before he's shoved down onto his knees.
The press of the gun's barrel against the back of his head is unmistakable despite the barrier of his beanie. Jesse has to assume there's one bullet in the chamber, and that's all it would take. He releases a stilted breath, eyes locked on Saul's Cadillac parked along the curb. It looks silver now that the daylight has nearly been extinguished.
He's going to die. He's going to die here on his knees, and only moments after, Saul may be murdered as well. Jesse clenches his jaw, eyes stinging with angry, frustrated tears that he refuses to let fall.
He has to at least try.
He abruptly ducks forward and to the left, hands darting up to take hold of the man's wrist and yanking forward over the curve of his arched back. He successfully flips the man over, and before he's even made contact with the grass below, Jesse is tackling him, following him to the ground. He latches on to him from behind, wrapping around the bald gunman with locked ankles and pinned arms to twist him into a spinal lock. Resolutely ignoring his protesting ribs, he wrenches his flexible spine in a degree that the other man's spine won't allow, and feels the moment his opponent surrenders, muscles anxiously tense and motionless to avoid causing damage.
Jesse frees the gun from the bastard's grip and tosses it just out of reach. He keeps his other arm tightly angled behind the man's head, a solid bar keeping the man's arms extended and useless.
"What the hell?" Saul demands from the doorway.
Jesse and his captive are both facing away from Saul when they simultaneously growl out, "Stay inside, damn it."
Both the blond and the bald man freeze at the shared words, a different kind of tension falling over them. This close, it's impossible for Jesse to miss the worried, protective flare that tints the man's previously violent scent. It reflects his own.
"Oh, sure, yeah, no, I'll just go inside then, and let you two continue to beat the shit out of each other," Saul grumbles between his teeth. Jesse can't see him, but he imagines he must look furious.
With one breath, Jesse releases his unforgiving hold, allowing the man's spine to return to a much more natural angle as he slips free. Jesse quickly finds his feet, standing between the man and the gun; Saul within his sightline. He watches his opponent arduously stand; pressing a hand to his lumbar while he glares at Jesse.
Jesse eyes him back just as coldly.
"Is that… Is that your gun? Were you going to shoot Jesse? What the fuck is wrong with you, Mike?" Saul all but cries out, finally stepping out of the doorway and crowding into Jesse's space.
The blond allows Saul to check him over, keeping an eye on Mike over the concerned lawyer's shoulder. He isn't too concerned that the man will try anything; anyone who is protective over Saul is someone Jesse's willing to side with, and Saul did address him by name. They must have history. Still, it's not easy to forget the feeling of the gun pressed to his head as he'd been poised for execution. He flinches when Saul touches the renewed bruise on his face, the man's questioning fingers lighting across the line Mike's gun marked. He finally breaks eye contact with Mike to find Saul's eyes suspiciously glassy and pinched in sorrow and worry.
Jesse presses close, wrapping Saul up in his arms in a hold on the far other side of the spectrum of what he subjected Mike to a moment ago. He nuzzles against Saul's neck.
"You said you needed help in your phone call," Mike says in his gruff baritone, looking to explain, "Said people were after you. When I got here, I found…Jesse…slinking around your yard."
"I wasn't 'slinking,' asshole," Jesse growls. Releasing Saul and stepping around him, prevented from continuing where he left off only by Saul grabbing him again in a desperate embrace.
"How many times am I going to have to witness you at gunpoint, kid?" He asks hoarsely.
The anger drains from Jesse and he gathers Saul in his arms again. Mike allows them a long, uninterrupted moment. It's eventually Saul who breaks the embrace and takes a step back from Jesse.
"Alright. Get inside, you idiots." He glances pointedly to the gunman and all but growls, "Don't forget your gun."
