Chapter Seven! The world is having a complicated week/month/year/whatever, but as usual this story is right where I left it. I hope you are doing well!
Shyrider45, thank you so much for the great review! Good instincts: Clark is inspired by a few people I have known, with a number of twists that are unique to him. His habit of giving brief rants when he doesn't have quiiiite all of the information (or expertise) is a trait that he shares with Brand, though. :-D I'm so glad you loved the normal teenager moments! I'm enjoying that this story is (in some ways) beginning in a place of greater normalcy, and the adventure is pulling them away from normal life instead of growing out of their crazy situations (even if those are in the background/foreground, pushing things forward). It feels like a milestone. :) And yay for adorable interactions!
Living Lucid Dream, you are quite welcome! The chess tournament needed an outcome, and Clark and FP need to suss each other out... It's a start. :) Clark also needs to (eventually) catch up on the dynamics surrounding him, though I'm not sure how that will play out. His making a misstep and then getting (gently) clobbered is not the best long-term strategy for everyone. I'm so glad that Sweet Pea and Alice remain cute together - and that it was awkward but not uncomfortable! That is precisely the line I was hoping they walked, but it's so specific that you gave me much relief by describing it that way. I loved that sweet visual between Jug and FP as well, and I secretly hope that they are able to feel more solid with one another within the wolf pack even while external factors stress them... We shall see!
Vorlesebuch, welcome! I am so glad you've discovered the series and are enjoying it - and thank you so much for your note! I have been loving writing every part, and hearing from you was a particular treat this week. I hope you continue to like the new chapters as they come. :)
Enjoy!
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"FP?"
"SAC Wilson, thanks for calling me back." FP was enjoying a particularly generous lunch that he was pretty sure Fred had provided out of a sense of obligation to help in any way that he could think of. "How is your day going?"
"Fine, thank you. But this was not the arrangement we agreed on," Wilson's tone was firm, but FP could hear that she was curious and not nearly as impatient as she likely hoped he would assume. "What 'further information' do you need?"
"Well, I don't know how closely you monitor the doings in nearby towns, but I was shot at twice between our meeting and this morning. One of the bullets left a nice burn on my left arm, and I was hospitalized overnight for related injuries." FP figured he'd let her chew on that for a few moments, and sure enough there was a long silence. "Is the FBI in the habit of functioning like a protection racket? Are you maybe sending the message that I need to get in line as an asset, or else?"
"Uh, no." Aaditi Wilson was officially caught flat-footed, or so FP assumed, if she was responding to his joke as if it had been serious. "No, we don't do that. What happened? Are you all right?"
"Like I said, I was in the hospital overnight for observation, but nothing seems to be wrong with me." FP wasn't sure how long to leave her dangling, since he was fairly well sold on working with the FBI - to clear up this new case, if nothing else.
"I'm so sorry, FP. That's terrible. Do you have any idea why someone came after you?" Wilson's tone was suddenly filled with concern. "Is there anything that I can do? I assume the investigation is already underway, but my office hasn't been involved. I'll look into it, though, because maybe-,"
"I just wanted to confirm the pay rate and sign back on." FP figured that was enough of leaving her dangling for a Monday. "If everything's-,"
"There will be a substantial raise; I'll get details to you this afternoon, and I'll be sure to have someone look into the shootings today and report to me personally," SAC Wilson assured FP hurriedly.
Before he could explain that he wanted the same pay for his trouble.
"Well... you drive a hard bargain, but I have to say that's tempting." FP found himself shaking his head in bemusement. "As long as the raise is 'substantial,' I think that should be just fine."
"Great, great. I might be able to make the number a little sweeter, so expect the call after four pm. That will give me time to pull a few strings. If it sounds acceptable, let's plan to meet next Sunday, after the RA's teambuilding outing."
"Let's make it Monday." FP's counter was partly born of his unexpected enjoyment of having the upper hand in this conversation - but he also figured that now was not the time to start messing around with Jughead's schedule. "Sunday's reserved for something already."
"Monday it is. Thanks again, FP. You'll hear more before the end of the business day."
"I expected no less." FP had to chuckle after he hung up. SAC Wilson was going to work out just fine as a handler if he could keep this up.
There was only one niggling thought that gave FP pause: it was unlikely, but ultimately possible that she was so desperate to sign him back up because there was something specific that she needed him to do.
Something that would involve him earning every penny of his exorbitant rate - plus that 'substantial' increase that she was even now working to 'sweeten.'
FP couldn't think of what that might be, but the possibility kept him from feeling entirely smug about the successful negotiation.
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Jughead was dismayed to discover that Alice's romantic triangle turned out to be just one part of the day's drama.
"Keep your head down." Clark met Jughead at the door of the RA when he arrived for his shift after school. "You are not going to believe what's going on."
"You're here. Good. Come with me, and maybe don't tell FP that I had you lie low for the day." Brand appeared behind Clark and grabbed Jughead's left arm. "I won't lock you in or anything, but let's make an effort not to have Special Agent Phillips see you today. Or at all this week, if we can manage it."
Jughead gave Brand a skeptical look. He was pretty sure he hadn't seen the SSA who oversaw the resident agency even once since he'd begun his internship, so that seemed more likely to be a pretext than a valid concern.
"Oh, yeah - he's out of his office and on a rampage. It's bad, MacGyver," Clark assured him when he saw his doubtful expression. "But Special Agent Davies, why can't he see Jones?"
Brand was already towing Jughead toward his tiny office. "There's a huge internal investigation beginning, and it's centered on some things that just came to light from a safe deposit box belonging to Agent Russell."
Jughead's eyes widened.
"Yeah." Brand's tone was dark. "Settling an estate takes a while, but they are all over this now. And he worked in this RA a few years back, so we're under the gun along with a whole lot of other locations where he spent time."
"But what does that have to do with Jones-,"
"He was present when Russell was killed."
Clark's jaw dropped and he gave Jughead a wide-eyed look. "Are you involved in everything?"
Jughead merely shrugged, figuring that was a rhetorical question.
"What were you doing there? Wasn't that in another state? And wasn't he shot by another agent - his partner, no less - because he'd turned criminal?" Clark was almost sputtering.
"Yeah. He stole Trigger. Dognapped him." Jughead nearly tripped when he turned to address Clark and Brand kept pulling him swiftly through the agency.
Clark flicked Jughead's shoulder in annoyance. "Come on. If you can't tell me details, just say so. Don't make up-,"
"There are a lot of reasons why that dog is the way he is," Brand interrupted.
"Seriously?" Clark gaped at them both. "What on earth-,"
"Look, it's not something-," Jughead tried to shut down the conversation, but Brand beat him to it.
"Russell was shot and killed right in front of Jones, so we don't talk about this outside of therapy."
Jughead figured that about covered it. He still gave Brand an irritated look for good measure, but it was actually a relief hearing it said so simply.
"We kept the kid out of the headlines for once, but there's no way Phillips missed the brief on that whole incident. Or if he did, he's getting caught up real quickly right now." Brand patted Jughead on the shoulder apologetically.
"Got it." Clark was suddenly all business again, though he gave Jughead a sympathetic look. "Need me to run interference?"
"I sincerely hope that will not be necessary." Brand gave Clark an amused look. "Just go work, and I'll make sure Jones has stuff to do in here."
They'd reached Brand's office.
"Just remember, kid, nothing's locked. That's going to be important if your father hears anything about this later on. Are we clear?"
"Yeah, we're clear, Brand." Jughead took a seat at his godfather's desk without protest. "Can you bring me some protein bars, too?"
"Well, Clark, you wanted a job." Brand smirked. "Keep him fed, and I'll be back in a few minutes with something to keep him occupied."
"Yes, sir." Clark gave Jughead another supportive look before he headed in the direction of the kitchenette.
"So. Don't talk to anyone about anything," Brand warned Jughead soberly, once Clark was out of earshot. "The odds that this investigation goes anywhere beyond Russell are very, very low."
Jughead nodded quickly. It was logical that Donn would be implicated - and Rose - if anything serious had been uncovered, and everything about an internal investigation implied that 'serious' was the right word for whatever had been found. But Brand was right that if there was any way for Rose to shut that line of inquiry down, the investigation would not get far.
Brand looked thoughtful, though. Jughead recognized that as a bad sign, and he felt his shoulders start to tense.
"They're low, but they're not zero." Brand shook his head in annoyance as he thought things through. "So your head is down. My cellphone is on. You let me know if anyone comes to talk to you, and that includes Agent Quinn. We're talking parent or guardian in the room if things go in that direction."
"I'll call you if anything comes up, Brand." Jughead tried to sound self-assured, but he felt too off balance to fully manage that.
"Calm down; you're fine, kid. You don't know anything, and you have no contact with anyone; you're officially useless to an investigation. I'm just being paranoid." Brand must have noticed Jughead's reaction. "I made a phone call about your dad yesterday, and it seemed like things checked out."
"You did?" Jughead was surprised and relieved to hear that Brand had called Rose about the shootings.
"I'm not insane. Prime suspects one through twenty-five had to be addressed." Brand gave Jughead a look. "Everything seemed fine, so you can relax: this is almost certainly paranoia, and even if it wasn't, I repeat: you're useless. But better safe than sorry, right?"
Jughead managed a weak smile and nod, but all he could think of was the burner cell phone hidden in his room at home.
For once he really wished he was useless.
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"How are Veronica and Gunnar doing?" Fred asked when Archie entered the kitchen after a lengthy practice session. He was assembling a lasagna, and spreading sausage through one layer.
"We're playing together really well," Archie replied, sneaking a bite of sausage once he realized what his dad was cooking. "I think we're going to be ready for Saturday."
"That's great. I'm really looking forward to seeing you play again, and I've been curious about Gunnar's drumming. Let me know if you need anything, musical or logistical." Fred smiled as he continued to layer the meat, cheese, and noodles in the pan. "Also, would you three be interested in giving me a little feedback on some of what I've been discussing with the school? I know Veronica's been very involved with the integration of the Southside students, and you've struck up this friendship with Gunnar. It would be nice to have that sort of a cross section, so I can pick your brains."
"I guess so." Archie shrugged. "Anything interesting?"
"Maybe." Fred found himself continuing to smile, but it was more because of the absence of antagonism between him and Archie than anything they were discussing. Attending the dance together had broken the spell of the Southside High bombing and its aftermath, and - however guilty it should make him feel - Fred recognized that FP being shot at had roused Archie's protective instincts to the fore.
Things were settling, and they both recognized that they were fortunate to be working overtime to resolve things with the school and with Andrews Construction. It meant they were both still around, still healthy, and still moving forward.
"That would be cool. I think they'd like to help." Archie nodded. "And me too. I think I'm ready to help more."
"No rush," Fred arranged a layer of noodles. "But that would be nice. I'd like that."
They set the table together once the lasagna was in the oven, and soon they were talking and laughing together about Archie's tales from football and from band practice.
"Will you be home for dinner tomorrow?" Archie asked as his father eventually pulled the finished lasagna from the oven.
"No. I'll be working late most nights this week so I can take Saturday off." Fred frowned regretfully. "Want to pick a night next week, though? I'll take it off early so we can do something together."
"Okay." Archie nodded agreeably. "I'll look at my schedule. That sounds good."
"It does, doesn't it?" Fred smiled. He began to cut into the lasagna, relieved that things were better with Archie - and hoping that FP was doing just as well with Jughead.
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"Dad, how was work?" Jughead left Brand checking on the pot pie in the oven, hurrying to greet his father at the door while he removed his work boots. "Did anything happen? How are you feeling? Clark's got night classes so he'll be back late."
"Everyone loved Roger, and there were no incidents. I'm feeling just fine," FP said, giving Jughead a brief hug in greeting. "I'm going to go shower and get out of this body armor, though. It's light, but anything extra on the job is more than I really want to be hauling around."
"Put it back on after you shower, FP," Brand directed. "We've got new windows now, but we didn't spring for bulletproof ones. What does it weigh, anyway? Five pounds? Man up."
FP waved Brand off, but he nodded in acquiescence to Jughead, indicating that he would continue to wear the body armor he'd been given.
"Is Roger coming here tonight?" Jughead looked eagerly toward the front door.
"I think Tim is planning to drop by with him, yes." FP looked around. "Has Trig had a good run? I don't want him mixing it up tonight, and Roger's a working dog. Chances are they'll want to breed him at some point, so he might not like being around Trigger."
"We went for a run, yeah. And I understand completely. Trig would be a great dad, too," Jughead responded with a mischievous smile.
"Trigger is not fit to procreate." FP had already had this conversation with Jughead - more than once -, but he knew that as long as they had not made a trip to the vet, his son would hold out hope for puppies.
"You've got to admit he'd have great kids." Jughead was still grinning. "Maybe Tim knows a few female police dogs."
Sheriff Keller had been deeply concerned by the events of the last two days, and he suspected that FP's FBI-related work might have made him far more serious enemies than they were aware of. For that reason, he'd suggested not only lightweight body armor, but he'd also connected FP with a semi-retired officer who had adopted a fully-retired police dog and enjoyed taking him out to volunteer in the local community.
Apparently Tim had been thrilled about the opportunity to give Roger a more robust gig for a couple of weeks. The pair would be checking in on FP regularly and getting to know his schedule, as well as his coworkers and family, all while acting as a potent - and highly visible - deterrent to any future attacks.
Jughead was likewise thrilled; he was well aware that police dogs had a much-deserved reputation, and so he figured that it was just about the best protection possible - and the setup would be in place for at least two weeks. It was a much longer-term arrangement than Jughead had dared hope for, and he was deeply grateful to Sheriff Keller for setting it up.
"Do you want this whole thing to work out or not?" Brand called from the kitchen. "Do not talk that way in front of the handler. And I really don't know why you haven't gotten that werewolf fixed by now."
"He might want a family someday," Jughead returned to the kitchen as FP made his way to his room to shower. "I'm just holding off until we're sure. I mean, we haven't gotten you fixed, so I thought we were all being patient and seeing what happened."
"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that. Because otherwise I'd have to show you who's boss around here, killer." Brand nudged Jughead playfully.
"You mean my dad?" Jughead batted back more aggressively and they began tussling.
Brand pulled Jughead out of the kitchen area so that they could wrestle a little more safely, and he quickly had a fight on his hands as Jughead took full advantage of the additional space to maneuver.
"Feeling the need to work off some stress?" Brand blocked two quick blows and then adopted a defensive posture while he took a moment to gauge how gung-ho the kid actually was about the altercation.
"Watch out for the couch," Jughead warned. "You scuff it again and you'll be picking buckshot out of your hide."
Brand did a quick check behind him to make sure that he wasn't about to bring FP's wrath down on himself yet again, and Jughead was past his defenses in a heartbeat. Brand closed his arms over his godson to prevent the worst of what he was attempting, but Jughead was still able to keep him off-balance and moving into a more vulnerable position.
Thankfully Brand still outweighed the kid and, while it wasn't pretty, brute force counted for a lot in such close quarters.
"You're not supposed to-,"
"Oh no, the rules have been broken. Whatever will you do?" Brand taunted. He lifted the kid right off of his feet and swiped one set of knuckles roughly over damaged ribs. Jughead's protests became even louder. "Come on, kid; you need to guard your weaknesses better than that."
When he had to twist to avoid a damaging shot aimed at his groin, Brand figured he'd more than earned it. He grinned and bent Jughead's back painfully. "Is this better or worse on your ribs?"
"Worse," Jughead gasped out.
Brand eased up slightly, but his grin widened when it became clear that Jones had lied: Brand's relaxed grip allowed just enough space to attempt an escape - and suddenly they both had room to circle each other once more.
"Are improvised weapons still out?" Brand asked, seeing the kid's eyes do an obvious sweep of the room.
"Unless you really do want to see the shotgun tonight, yeah; we'd better not let Dad catch us breaking the treaty." Jones sounded reluctant, but he stopped scanning for weapons.
"How mad do you think he'd be about a scuffed dining room chair?" Brand asked innocently, grabbing one and sliding it toward Jones' legs in a smooth movement. Sure enough, the kid moved to avoid it without thinking - and stepped right into Brand's grip. "Aaand checkmate."
"How was that not an improvised weapon?" Jughead complained. He struggled for a few moments, but this time he had almost no leverage so he forced himself to relax and wait for an opening.
"Yeah, okay, using the chair was fighting dirty." Brand rotated one hand so that he could reach the kid's ribs again. "But I officially have no weapons at all right now."
"Brand! No!" Jughead still couldn't move much, but he couldn't keep himself from struggling futilely when Brand began tickling him. "Dad said not for another week or two!"
"Your doctor said it's fine." Brand kept it light, though, and stopped quickly.
"You asked my doctor if you could attack me and tickle me while you had me pinned?"
"Yep."
"Child protective services is probably on their way here right now."
"You'd better hope," Brand shot back. "Because that is the only way you're getting out of this."
When FP returned from his shower, he rolled his eyes at the clear evidence that they'd been fighting. Jughead was breathing hard and had collapsed - or been dropped - onto the couch, and Brand was very obviously keeping his distance to avoid any sneaky reprisal attacks.
"Maybe keep it to a dull roar between you two while we've got a police presence at the house, huh?"
"No can do. That's going to be weeks, right?" Brand shook his head. "They'll just have to learn the difference between training and a real threat."
"This is going to go badly, isn't it?" FP sighed. There was a knock on the door. "That's probably Tim and Roger, so behave yourselves."
"I'll get the door, FP. That body armor doesn't need testing." Brand smirked as he moved past FP.
"Bra-and," Jughead objected. "Don't even say that."
Moments later all conflict was forgotten, though, as Jughead greeted Roger.
"He's not as big as Trigger," Jughead observed as he knelt and patted the dog and allowed Roger to crowd in and snuffle his hair and neck. "He is jacked, though. Do you take him running in Fox Forest?"
Tim watched Jughead and Roger with amusement. "Sometimes. He really likes you; Roger's usually a little more reserved, but he knows a dog person when he meets one. Is Trigger around? We should let them suss each other out."
"Yeah, he's in my room. I'll get him. I'll leash him for now, too, just to be safe," Jughead offered. Roger licked his ear and Jughead grinned as he moved away and then stood up. "He's not aggressive with other dogs, though."
It was quick work to introduce the two dogs to one another, and not long after that when Brand began to complain about Trigger's playful antics as he leapt and skidded around on the hardwood floor, trying to tempt the older German Shepherd into wrestling in the living room.
"Roger's going to have his hands full with your pup," Tim observed. "The challenge will be good for him, and it might be good for Trigger as well. He'll learn some manners from Rog."
"Cool." Jughead was watching them play with fascination. He and Trigger often played and wrestled, but it was very different from what he was seeing now. "Trigger likes Vegas, my friend Archie's dog, but they don't usually play like this."
"Trigger can probably tell that Roger's an athlete - and a goofball. He only just retired from active police work; he's perfectly healthy and can be a livewire when he knows he's off duty. He'll behave as long as he knows we're working, though."
"Do you want to join us for dinner?" FP motioned toward the table. "Those two have something cooking, and there's always plenty to share."
"Absolutely; thanks." Tim grinned and stood up. "I never turn down a meal. You should show us around first, though, and let Roger get the lay of the land."
"I can do that." Jughead signaled firmly to Trigger and his dog reluctantly moved away from his new friend and toward his master. "Do you want to see the basement and the back yard first?"
"Sure." Tim nodded to FP as he walked past him and followed Jughead toward the stairs to the basement. "You have a nice place, FP, and a beautiful family. We're going to make sure that nobody takes any more potshots at you."
"Thanks." Jughead answered before FP had a chance to respond. "We really, really appreciate it."
"We do," Brand added gravely. "And as long as you're around, you can count on there being plenty of food in the kitchen. Help yourself to anything you like. We also take requests."
"Wow. Pretty fancy, Roger. Don't get too used to this, boy," Tim joked. "Thanks, Brand."
"I mean it; be thinking about what you'd like me to put on the menu," Brand assured him. "I want a list of favorites before you leave tonight."
FP looked from Jughead to Brand, relieved that they were behaving and touched that they were both trying so hard to be helpful and encouraging about the arrangement.
"You've probably learned by now that FP's kind of important in these parts," Brand added conspiratorially. "We like him in one piece."
"That's the goal." Tim raised his eyebrows at FP. "Although it sounds like you hardly need me and Rog with all this backup already in place."
"Oh, no. We need you." Jughead spoke up quickly. "We have objectively sucked at deterring attacks so far."
"Or maybe you've deterred them without realizing it - and prevented any from being successful," Tim suggested. "I've seen a lot of dysfunction in my line of work, and it's nice seeing a family that works so well together, even if the circumstances aren't exactly ideal."
FP smiled. It was unexpected to be contrasted with dysfunctional families, but a very welcome idea.
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After all of the excitement of the day, Jughead decided to wait until late - long after Tim and Roger had left for the night - to check the burner phone he'd been given. It had been a couple of days since he'd last checked for messages, and all of the upheaval at the resident agency had left him feeling a little edgy about the whole arrangement.
Sure enough, when he turned on the phone he discovered a brief message.
"Jones, I hear there are a few things going on at your resident agency. I trust you'll keep me updated with anything relevant to me or my interests. A text is fine. Also," Rose's tone turned amused, "if you're planning to go with the RA to the amusement park this week, leave before dark. I know you've had a lot of combat training, and you'll want to be careful about where those instincts might lead you."
There was very little that Jughead could think of that could rival how unexpected it was to be hearing Brand's concerns echoed in Rose's voice.
He turned off the phone and replaced it in the pocket of his backpack, and began considering strategies for keeping himself away from any information about the investigation into Agent Russell and the RA. Not that he'd been invited into it, or read into anything, but still. He'd do his best to stay as far from it as possible.
And screw Rose. He'd stay at the amusement park all night if he wanted.
Jughead hadn't thought of a plan yet for getting his dad to veto Brand on that edict, but he was confident that he'd come up with something by the end of the week.
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Oh, it's all happening now... I hope you have a lovely weekend, and I really appreciate your reading along. I'll deeply enjoy any and all notes (woo-hoo!), and I hope you have a lovely place in the sun to relax if you are unexpectedly faced with free time!
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