Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for being excited about this one! I decided to throw something that was slightly unpredictable into the mix, though whether it helps Jeller remain oblivious to each other's feelings, or just gives them different things to pick up on, I'm not sure. As you would probably expect from me, I'm stringing things out a little and making it all as agonising as possible, because this road trip still has at least one more night on it, possibly two. (Okay, I could have done even worse with the stringing it out, but I'm not a complete UST sadist.)
By some miracle, Kurt was able to focus on his book. For almost two hours, he and Jane kept a comfortable silence, broken only by the quiet brushes of her pencils over her sketchbook, and the background murmur of the TV—some documentary on deep-sea marine life he was pretty sure he'd seen before.
When his muscles began to ache from remaining in one place for too long, he surfaced from the fictional world he'd been immersed in, rolling onto his back and glancing over at Jane. "How's it going?"
She looked up from her sketchbook and smiled, and his heart skipped. She's so damn beautiful when she's relaxed like this.
"Not too bad. How's the book?"
"Pretty good. Think I know who the bad guy is, though." He sat up slowly, rolling the stiffness out of one shoulder.
"You're an FBI agent. I'd be surprised if you didn't know," she teased.
His gaze fell on her sketchbook, angled away from him against her bent knee. "Can I see?"
She hesitated, but before he could reassure her that she could keep her privacy, she held out the book. "Okay, but don't get mad at my choice of subject."
He was about to ask why she'd think he would, but then his attention shifted to the page, and he forgot how to form words for a moment.
There were a few basic sketches at the corners—a tree in a storm, and a few deep-sea creatures she must have doodled as she'd watched the documentary on TV—but two-thirds of the page was taken up by a lifelike drawing of Kurt, reading on his phone with his face in profile. There was so much detail in the image, right down to the look of absorption in his expression, and he found himself shaking his head in admiration.
"This is how you see me?"
She shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. "It's how you looked a few minutes ago."
"You're really talented. You know that, right?" He held her gaze, wanting her to know he was being sincere.
"Thanks. Just takes practice." She held out her hand for the book, and he passed it back, taking the hint that she wanted to retreat from the subject.
"Well, if you decide you want a quieter life once we've taken down Sandstorm, at least you have a less chaotic skill to—"
He lost his train of thought mid-sentence, as everything in the room powered by electricity blinked out—lights, the TV, the charging light on his phone…
In the unexpected darkness, Jane groaned. "When I said the power might go out earlier, I was joking, not suggesting."
She got up from the bed and went to the window, pulling back the curtain to look out into the rain. "Looks like the whole place is dark. A couple of the other guests are on their way over to complain to the motel staff, but I doubt they can do anything unless they have a backup generator."
"Think it's the storm, or Sandstorm?" Kurt felt for the weapon he'd left on the nightstand, checking the safety by feel before tucking it into his pants at the small of his back.
"Probably the storm—but I guess we'll know different if someone throws a smoke grenade through the window," she replied dryly, making a beeline for her own gun.
"We should give it thirty minutes, just to be sure it really is the weather…but if we don't get power back, we should probably get an early night. I doubt the motel's insurance policy is good enough to let them start handing out candles." This wasn't the way he'd ever imagined suggesting to Jane that they go to bed, but he shouldn't be complaining, since he was trying to avoid the other possibility.
"Yeah—better to get some rest than sit around in the dark," Jane agreed, her voice distracted.
After a long pause, Kurt laughed under his breath. "There used to be a time when a power outage just meant the weather had taken out a cable somewhere. Maybe I'm just getting paranoid."
"Better a little paranoid than taken by surprise. I doubt this is an attack, though. We're still nearly a thousand miles from where we're supposed to be, and there's no reason for them to come after us right now, anyway."
"None that we know of." When it came to Shepherd, he didn't feel comfortable making assumptions, and he could tell Jane felt the same way, even without seeing her face.
Jane sat back down on the bed, and as Kurt's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw her putting her service weapon down on the mattress, within easy reach. She sighed. "Guess I should start coming up with alternate career ideas, just in case Pellington wants me out after my case is through."
He looked over at her sharply, unable to discern her features through the gloom. "I'll handle Pellington."
"I know you'd try. But he doesn't like me, and frankly, I don't blame him. Who'd put up with a fox in their henhouse for a minute longer than they had to?" Her voice was resigned, as though she was already planning her departure for as soon as the NSA approved her immunity deal.
The idea alarmed him more than he'd ever expected. The joint NSA/FBI taskforce had begun with such distrust and anger on all sides—he would never have thought that its eventual dissolution would feel so viscerally wrong.
"Hey." He couldn't see her hand through the gloom, but he could tell from her silhouette where her knee was positioned. He reached out and slid his hand over it, needing her to know he had her back. "If you want to go, I won't stop you. But if you want to stay, I'll do anything I can to make him see things my way. Everything I can. You've earned your place with us." With me.
She rested her hand on top of his, sending a tingle through his skin. "Thank you."
Kurt squeezed her knee, trying to resist the impulse to turn his hand over and entwine his fingers with hers. Too much, Weller. Get some distance.
He got up. "I'm gonna go do a little recon—as much as I can without getting soaked, anyway. If we can be sure it really was the storm that caused this, we can sleep easier."
"Be careful." Was it his imagination, or was her voice a little huskier than usual, as though she'd been affected by their contact?
"Always am." Except for when it comes to controlling yourself around Jane, apparently.
Suppressing the urge to shake his head at his own folly, he shrugged on his jacket to hide his service weapon, then headed out into the stormy night.
Jane exhaled hard, sagging back against the headboard as soon as she was alone in the room. That was…intense.
Kurt had sounded as though nothing was more important to him than making sure she could stay with him. At work. Stay with him at work.
Maybe he just wanted to make sure she was rewarded for putting her life on the line to fight her own mother, and to preserve the effective partnership they had at work. But the way he'd spoken seemed more personal, as though he'd never considered that Pellington would try to dismiss her again, and he was fiercely determined to prevent that from happening.
She was probably just reading too much into his tone of voice. The darkness didn't help her to judge what he was thinking. But the moment had still made her pulse skip, especially when he'd reached out to her, laying a strong, reassuring hand over her knee.
You're just extra hormonal because you know you're gonna be sharing a bed with him all night. Calm down and focus. He might need backup.
For the next five minutes, she remained alert, listening for gunshots or sounds of a struggle—until Kurt re-entered the room with a quick knock, so she'd know it was him.
"Good news and bad news," he said, as she watched his silhouette shrug off his jacket. "The good news? It's not Sandstorm."
Jane hadn't realised how tense she was until she relaxed. "And the bad news?"
"Someone drove out to see if they could spot the problem—a tree limb took out one of the power cables just up the road. Which means we'll be without power until we check out tomorrow."
Jane shrugged, despite the fact that he might not be able to pick up on it. "As bad news goes, that's not the worst I was expecting—though maybe my perspective is skewed by all the bombs and life-or-death situations we've been in."
"Sometimes I have to remind myself that my concept of bad news is a lot worse than most people's," he agreed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Think you can sleep, if we wait this one out by getting an early night?"
"Well, since the alternative is wearing out our cell phone batteries by using them as flashlights, then being out of contact in an emergency…I guess we don't have much of an alternative." Jane stood up and headed for the bathroom. "I'm gonna brush my teeth."
After completing as much of her nightly routine as possible in the dark, she returned to the bedroom, glad it was too dim for Kurt to pick up on any traces of apprehension—or worse, anticipation—in her expression. "All yours."
"Huh?" He was standing at the window, looking out through a gap in the curtains at the rain lashing down and bouncing off the pavement.
"The bathroom," she clarified. And me, if that were still possible. But it's not.
"Thanks. You okay with taking the side of the bed you were sitting on earlier?"
"Yeah, unless you'd rather have it? I'm good either way." She felt across the side of the bed she'd been occupying, scooping up stray pencils and taking care not to spill the remaining Skittles in the bag they'd been sharing.
"No, I usually sleep on the side I was using." He hesitated, then headed for the bathroom. "Back in a minute."
Jane pulled back the covers on the bed, wondering if the universe was laughing at her. Even the sides of the bed we sleep on are compatible. She couldn't decide if she found it more amusing or tragic, given that they'd never share a bed again after tonight.
Maybe, considering that, I should take advantage of the situation.
Jane shoved that thought to the back of her mind the moment it registered, but it was too late—it had already sparked provocative ideas in her imagination. What would he do, if I rolled over and kissed him?
She didn't need to imagine the way he'd kiss her back. She remembered all too well how it felt to be in his arms, the hungry affection of his kisses making the rest of the world fade to nothing, the awareness of every warm caress sending tingles through her skin.
Even the distant memories were enough to turn her on, so when Kurt got into bed beside her, everything was going to be a thousand times more intense. At least the darkness would hamper some of his all-too-perceptive special agent instincts—all she'd have to worry about were her voice and the rhythm of her breathing. And making sure she didn't accidentally brush against him.
Sliding under the covers, Jane attempted to banish her nerves and simmering arousal, curling around her pillow with her back to the empty side of the bed. She was a night owl and a light sleeper at the best of times. Between the early bedtime, the storm and the presence of another person, she'd likely get a terrible night's sleep—but maybe Kurt would fare better, and be open to taking the first driving shift tomorrow, so she could nap in the passenger seat.
She'd just begun to relax when he came out of the bathroom, making her tense right up again. Quietly, he got into bed beside her, not close enough to touch, and heaved a sigh as the mattress went still.
Jane counted her heartbeats, forgetting to breathe, even as she ordered herself to calm the hell down.
After a long moment, Kurt murmured, barely above a whisper, "You still awake, Jane?"
In more ways than one.
"Mmm," she said, glad that she sounded sleepier than she felt.
He reached over for his phone, and an electronic glow lit the room. "Any preference for what time we get up tomorrow?"
She frowned into the darkness, unsure. "I'm usually a pretty early riser, even when I don't go to bed before ten—plus we have a lot of driving to do. On the other hand, there's not enough room for my morning exercise routine in here, and I guess the weather will decide when we should get back on the road. Well," she added, amused, "the weather, and how long you want to sleep in."
"I'm not that bad—but it is the weekend." He sighed again. "How about…seven? And we can maybe find a diner and grab some breakfast before we get back on the interstate?"
"Sounds good. You setting an alarm?" She doubted she'd need one.
"Yeah. You have my permission to throw a pillow at me if I switch it off and go back to sleep."
"Am I a bad person for kind of hoping that happens, now?" She couldn't help but grin, snuggling deeper into the pillow in question.
His voice was rich with amusement. "Hey, you want a pillow fight, Doe, you can challenge me anytime."
Jane snorted. "You sure you want to go there? Because you know I'd kick your ass."
"You say that like it would bother me." His complete lack of concern was evident—he'd never seemed threatened by her skills, or by being beaten by a woman, which was one of the things she'd always loved about him.
Liked about him.
"Well, since I've wiped the floor with you almost every time we've ever sparred, I guess you must be getting used to it by now."
He laughed softly, his amusement sending a shiver of lust through her skin. Lying here in the dark, talking like this—it was so much more intimate than she'd feared, yet strangely comfortable, despite the situation.
Even with her back to him and in total darkness, she could paint a clear picture in her mind of what he would look like—lying on his back, with one arm pillowed under his head, one side of his mouth tilted up in a smile.
Her instinctive urge to press her breasts and hips down into the mattress would only make her arousal worse. Stay still.
"Really, though—thank you. A lot of guys would let their egos ruin this." Just don't ask me what 'this' is. Because I don't know if I even have the words for it.
Was it his imagination, or did his slow exhalation tremble a little? No. Wishful thinking.
"A lot of guys would be missing out," he said, his voice soft.
Jane reminded herself to breathe normally, biting her lip as desire warmed her skin. How do I respond to that?
Again, she imagined herself rolling over and finding him in the dark, guiding his lips to hers by feel alone, letting him drag her on top of him and sink his fingers into her hair as their kiss became hotter, more urgent…
How do I respond to that without destroying our friendship and making everything ten times more complicated?
"I promise you won't have to fend off any flying pillows in the night." She hesitated, then said, "Sleep well, Kurt."
He shifted on the bed, getting more comfortable in preparation to fall asleep. "Sweet dreams, Jane."