Fanfiction is never cancelled. :-D Seriously, I think morale is pretty great among those who have such lovely online outlets. Thank you for reading, and even more for your unfailingly generous notes!
Thank you so much for the kind review, vorlesebuch! I'm so glad you are continuing to read and enjoy. You are quite welcome! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. :)
Skyrider45, thank you for the double review! That was fun, and I agree that FP is far more on top of things. I also love how much everyone's just enjoying the fact of roller coasters being featured in the last couple of chapters. Adrenaline junkies for the win! Clark's going to need some time to wrap his head around everything, but I'll be interested in seeing how he joins into the action as everything comes together... and wow, yeah, productivity is a very weird thing these days. It's there and then gone, and the things that get done REALLY THOROUGHLY versus the tasks that take eighteen times longer than usual are... unpredictable. To say the least. I am enjoying seeing everyone learn to bake bread, though, unless that's unique to people I know. (I suspect it is not)
Living Lucid Dream, I really enjoyed the concert afterglow too. :) I also love your sense that certain elements are there for a reason and likely to come back again... :-D I am so glad that Betty's brief altercation with the employee rang true to you as well! I still want to collect more stories from haunted experiences (that was fantastic!), but your nod makes me pleased with how that played out in the chapter. :) And yes, "Holy butts" indeed. This story's arc is having its fun, and part of it is a tendency to just go for it. We've got some big dogs who aren't messing around, and will not be ignored. The growth and changes for Clark and Jughead are complex (and interrelated, since they're buds), so I'm hoping it makes good logical (and intuitive!) sense as things continue. I'll look forward to your faithful reviews and insights, and hearing how that goes! :)
Enjoy!
-Button
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"I'm not spying on my son." FP was beginning to see more of the picture that had led to his insane pay increase - which was everything that Wilson had promised and more - and he was not liking it one bit. "Brandon I'll spy on. I'll tell you anything you want to know right now, in fact. He's not shy, and he gets obnoxiously chatty at night."
"Nobody is asking you to spy on anyone." SAC Aaditi Wilson sounded exhausted, but also as though she had become resigned to this pattern of discussions with FP. "I'm just asking you to let me know if you happen to learn anything about Agents Russell or Donn, or anything else that might not have made the official files regarding Michigan, Toronto, or the Southside incidents - or any information related to the attack this evening, or on you earlier in the week. Nobody thinks that Special Agent Davies is unworthy of his clearance or position, and nobody thinks that Forsythe is even capable of subterfuge."
FP made sure not to react in any way to that last statement.
"There is some question in my mind about whether Davies has developed some contacts that he does not fully understand the value of, and whether Forsythe may have witnessed or become aware of something that he doesn't realize is important."
"You should sit down with them, then." FP hoped that sounded forthright and not dodgy.
"Davies' citizenship is not a problem, per se. But it is complicating. Your son being underage and an intern makes him more easily classified as 'a problem.' Do you see where I'm going with this?"
"Don't call him that," FP's words were almost a groan of exasperation. "I am sick and tired of hearing how everyone else is inconvenienced by Jughead's mere existence. He's working as hard as he can, and it is not his fault that-,"
"I only mean that I can't be bringing him in for discussions as easily as I could, say, Clark."
"Or me." FP sighed.
"That's right."
"You want me to passively collect information? Nothing sneaky, and no leading the jury? No entrapment whatsoever?" FP figured he might as well give in and just carry on with business as usual if Wilson was going to push this.
"You don't need to be searching sock drawers, hard drives, or internet histories," Wilson confirmed. "Just let me know if something comes up, and we'll call that good enough for now. Again, this is not a case of anyone suspecting that there's a conspiracy - or anything being intentionally hidden. If it's there, I trust that it will eventually come up."
"Okay." FP would not be holding his breath, and he hoped that Wilson would not either.
"Thanks, FP. And thank you for showing restraint this evening."
FP had not killed the armed man who had been making moves to attack Jughead with a knife.
He was impressed that Wilson recognized that as an act of restraint on his part, since Brandon still thought his alternative of beating the man senseless and doing his best to ensure that he would never father offspring had been appropriately brutal to the situation.
"Uh-huh. Don't test me on that again."
"The FBI does not anticipate the interns being endangered again anytime soon." Wilson's voice had a tinge of a smile now. "And we would not dream of testing you. How are those two doing, by the way?"
"Can you hear them?" FP held the phone up toward Brandon's bedroom, where Jughead and Clark were howling with laughter over something. He brought the phone back to his ear. "They're with Brandon. My guess is they're either telling stories or playing with the dog."
"Wow. That's incredibly refreshing to hear," Wilson said sincerely. "I'm glad they're upbeat and doing so well; Brandon's a generous mentor, and he really has a touch. Thanks again, FP. Have a good night, and tell the interns I send them my best."
"They'll be delighted," FP said wryly.
And, he reflected as he hung up the phone, it was true: both Jughead and Clark liked SAC Wilson a great deal, and would appreciate the extra attention. It was perceptive of Wilson to understand that, tone deaf as she could be on other subjects.
Such as Brandon and mentoring, just for instance.
00000
"Mr. Jones, I want to thank you for intervening. If you hadn't stepped in when you did-,"
FP was surprised - and trying to figure out how he should be reacting to Clark's words when Jughead tackled him in a hug.
"Clark would have been a goner without you, Dad. I'm sorry I tried to handle things on my own."
Apparently they'd been thinking over FP's role in everything and decided that he was the hero.
He could live with that.
"Hey, Jug, be careful of the arm. It's a little painful after the workout I gave it earlier," FP returned the hug somewhat more gently. "And you are welcome. Not welcome to pull another stunt like that-," FP tapped Jughead meaningfully on the back for emphasis, "-but you are always welcome to my help if something unavoidable comes up. Both of you."
"Really. I can't thank you enough." Clark was painfully sincere. FP gave him a smile and what he hoped was a reassuring nod.
"It was great how you destroyed that guy." Jughead grinned up at his father. "You've learned a lot in training."
"If you ever have someone go after one of your family members with a knife, you'll understand exactly how easy it is to make sure they don't get back up again." FP's brow furrowed, even at the memory.
"Oh, I know. The guy who pulled a switchblade on Clark didn't get back up until he was cuffed." Jughead nodded in solidarity, even though FP and Brand exchanged glances that clearly communicated that there had been a difference in the scale of the two Jones men's responses.
"You're planning to watch the movie with us, right, Dad? I'm going to make brownies and we need you to make the good hot chocolate. Trigger probably needs a snack, too, to make up for all the time home alone."
The dog looked up and whined at the sound of his name, and Clark reached over to join Jughead in petting him energetically.
"That can probably be arranged. What are we watching?" FP looked over at Brandon. "I assume you had veto power?"
"Oh, no. I picked it out, FP." Brandon gave him a mysterious smile. "Just you wait and see."
"Gre-eat." FP turned to go make the hot chocolate, though, with Trigger following right on his heels.
It took him a few moments to realize that Trigger was not the only one following him.
"They're right, you know. You're the MVP this time around." Brandon was padding along silently behind FP toward the kitchen. "We'd have had one or more dead bodies if you hadn't been on top of things."
"I caught Jughead and Clark cooking up a scheme. The rest was just a horrifying coincidence." FP was still trying not to think too hard about how close they'd come to losing Clark - and also Jughead. "And I wanted to talk to you about Jughead, actually." FP figured he'd seize the opportunity. "He's acting a little more like a teenager lately. I think it's good, but I wanted to chat with you. Have you noticed things shifting over the last couple of weeks?"
Brandon made a face. "I think he's going through something. I need to find time to sit down and really talk to him."
"Oh?" FP had not expected there to be something specific on Brandon's mind. He thought of SAC Wilson and suddenly wondered if he needed to end this conversation before anything of substance came up. "Look, you should talk to him, then. I don't want to hear anything that might turn out to be a problem later. But is it… serious?"
"I don't know. It's just a few weird things that could be nothing - or might turn out to be something. I'll figure it out, and you can do me a favor and steer clear." Brandon looked apologetic about the request. "If it takes the whole wolf pack to deal with, I'll try and figure a way to cut you in without reading you in. Does that work for you?"
"Possibly." That should satisfy his duty to Wilson, too. FP thought it over and then nodded firmly. "Yes."
"So… I want to do a few things this weekend, and I wanted to talk them through with you beforehand." Brandon leaned against the kitchen island while FP began pulling out ingredients to make hot chocolate. "First, before Jones comes out here to bake, what do you think about my getting him a new backpack?"
That was unexpected. FP cocked his head curiously, turned to face Brandon, and waited for him to say more.
"It's past time. I know he was attached to it when he lost…" Brandon trailed off uncomfortably and looked away for a moment. "Well, me. And his life in Toronto, such as it was. But I'm here now. I picked this out, but I don't actually know what you two discussed when you made the decision to send him to school with that ratty backpack. I don't want to screw things up."
Brandon showed FP an image on his phone of a high-end professional bag that converted from a backpack to briefcase to shoulder bag.
"It's nice." FP was thoughtful. "You can get it for him. I've wanted to replace his backpack for a while, but it would probably be better coming from you. Just don't throw out his old one until you have a conversation with him; I'm not sure his attachment to it is entirely rational."
"No kidding." Brand rubbed the back of his neck.
"Thanks for running it by me first. And do me a favor: don't buy him anything else before the next major holiday. He just got those boots and I don't like how insistent he was about them. He doesn't need to start acting spoiled along with acting his age in other ways," FP said. He turned back to the stove. "What else is on your mind?"
"I promised to make Sarah dinner tomorrow."
"Okay. As long as you're cooking, that's fine. Jughead can invite Betty too; Tim's coming with Roger, so it can be a party." FP began pouring milk into the pot. "It might be nice to touch base with everyone. Don't jerk Sarah around in front of me, though, or we'll have issues."
"I'm not jerking her around." Brandon scowled. "And, uh, there's one more thing."
FP waited expectantly.
"I think Jones could use some practice with restraints, and-,"
"No."
"You didn't even let me finish-,"
"No. You're not tying him up again, Brandon. I know you used that as a threat or a punishment more than once, and we're nowhere near that being a neutral activity for Jughead."
"Agreed. That's why I want him to tie you up."
"What?" FP had been opening the cocoa, but he slapped it onto the counter and turned to face Brandon. "I'll skip to the ending and tell you that's never going to happen, but I'm actually curious. What was your reasoning this time?"
"It's a skill," Brandon said defensively. "And I'll teach you how to escape. Honestly, this conversation is a courtesy. We were just going to jump you and-,"
"Uh, correction: Brand was going to jump you." Jughead walked into the kitchen. "I had nothing to do with this plan. He only offered to cut me in when I told him that you would kill him in cold blood."
"Well, you were right." FP nodded toward Jughead. "Where's Clark?"
"I'm right here." Clark followed Jughead into the kitchen. "Why?"
"You shouldn't be alone right now." FP gave him a concerned look that Clark didn't quite meet. "I'm going to ask Keller about getting you some body armor tomorrow. Even if this isn't all connected-," FP gave Brandon a look, since he was very aware that Clark's threat had come from Donn, "-you should have the same protection that I do."
"I already do have the same protection. I'm here with you all." Clark reached down to pet Trigger. "And we got the guys, anyway, so maybe I should start to think about going back to my apart-,"
"Stay. Stay for another week at least, Clark." Brand patted him on the shoulder, frowning when Clark didn't look up from where he was focused on Trigger. "I'm still looking at closing on that house, and if you're not interested in rooming with me after another week, we'll discuss. No decisions tonight, though. Okay?"
"Okay." Clark still didn't look up.
"Hey, you know what - brownies can wait. I've got some photos I want to show you." Jughead moved to lead Clark protectively out of the kitchen, giving FP and Brand a warning look as he did so. "Movie in half an hour, okay?"
"Yeah. Sure, kid." Brand watched as Jones and Clark headed toward Jughead's room.
After a few moments of heavy silence, FP returned to brewing the hot chocolate. "He's going to have a hard time. I don't know why he hasn't been on the phone with family, but he hasn't."
That had not occurred to Brand.
"He seems like he has a family. I don't know that he mentions them much, but-,"
"It could be that they had a falling out, or even that he doesn't want to worry them." FP shrugged. "Who knows. But he doesn't seem to have them to lean on at the moment. Jughead might do better at helping him right now than we can if he doesn't have other support. You're his boss, and he's still wary of me after all the Serpent stuff."
"Maybe." Brand stared after the two. "He's certainly got some crazy idea that he should be able to come through a near death experience - attempted murder, no less - without blinking. I'm not sure if he gets that from Jones being therapied to the hilt or from somewhere else entirely, but I do get the sense that to Clark it's not obvious that Jones, not to mention everyone he knows, paid a huge price to get him to where he was when they first met at the RA."
"Does Clark actually think that one day Jug was in Toronto being tortured, the next day he was in Riverdale with me, and somehow he just magically went back to being… as normal as he is now?" FP shook his head with a dark laugh. "Wow. Now there's an impossible standard to hold himself to. It would have been nice if it had been that simple for Jughead."
"Eh, Clark recognizes that Jones is exceptional, and he probably even recognizes that it wasn't quite that simple. But he's not dumb; he knows that he's got some exceptional qualities too, and a full decade of life experience on the kid." Brand shrugged. "He's bound to be hard on himself."
"That's… twisted. And I don't suppose telling him that Jughead was a mess for months would enhance anyone's life." FP ran a hand through his hair.
"As far as I know, Jones has never talked to him about it. I figure it's his business to share or not to share. I'm not sure I like the idea of the kid taking Clark's trauma on like it's his responsibility, either. But yeah, my guess is that Clark's not liable to curl up with you or the dog and fall asleep like Jones does when he's too upset to function."
"Nope."
"Well, even if we don't give him the inside scoop on Jones' storied and colorful recovery process, we're not letting Clark fall apart. Or go home to an apartment building," Brand's tone made it sound as if it were a dirty phrase, "at least until we've confirmed that we did get the guys - the only guys - coming after him."
"It's Donn. We know that. And it's not Donn who came after me." FP glowered in consternation. "This is insane. The household is like a lightning rod for trouble."
"FP, I'm really not sure about any of this anymore." Brand sighed, thinking back to Jones' cryptic statements. "Let me look into it, and in the meantime we'll keep your head down and get Clark some body armor. That's a fine idea."
"If we don't get it soon, he's taking mine." FP's tone brooked no disagreement.
"It won't come to that. And he hasn't been shot at, so let's keep our heads; I'll probably be able to get him body armor tomorrow."
"Fine." FP continued stirring the hot chocolate. "I just… I'm surrounded by protection. I hated seeing him so vulnerable at the park."
"Same here. And that's why we're not leaving him to fend for himself." Brand spoke firmly. This conversation was veering from some relation to survivor's guilt to - most likely - vestiges of FP's ongoing worry for Jones' safety, and it was time to shut it down. "We're going to have snacks and watch a movie and keep him safe."
"And I'm teaching Jughead to ride my bike." FP glanced over his shoulder at Brand to see his reaction, and his tone was suddenly neutral. "Starting tomorrow, those boots are going to do some double duty."
"No way, old man." Brand's tone was still firm, but now he was grinning. "He needs the dress ones to stay nice for work. After you tell him that's on the docket - and he's done combusting from excitement -, I'll take him out and get him a tougher pair. I'll make 'em an early Christmas present if you're too worried about spoiling the runt. Can I get him a jacket too?"
"I've already got one for him." FP turned all the way around this time, and now the boast in his tone was unrestrained. "The one I learned in when I was a little younger than he is now."
"Well. You've clearly got your sights on remaining MVP for at least two days running." Brand smirked. "I might have to get ahold of that camera of his."
FP nodded with a proud smile. "I think you'd better."
00000
They ended up in the living room watching the movie, Brand shooing FP into a recliner and taking up the left side of the couch. Jughead took one look at the arrangement and claimed the right side of the couch, hauling Trigger up onto his lap and motioning for Clark to sit between himself and Brand.
Clark settled in, welcoming Trig to sprawl out over his lap as well.
FP started the movie and made sure everyone could reach the snacks - except for Trigger - and brought over refills and napkins periodically.
And, when they were halfway through a second movie, FP turned the volume down. "You think we should put those two to bed?"
Jughead was asleep on Clark's shoulder, and Clark had slumped against Brand when he'd likewise dozed off. Trigger had long since abandoned the couch for his dog bed in Jughead's room.
"Nah. I'll finish this one out and just sleep here so we don't have to wake them - and so they don't wake up alone if Jones has a nightmare or something. Clark doesn't need that kind of excitement after today. If you turn the lights off before you turn in, I think we'll be as set as we can be."
"I could stay here for the night," FP motioned to the recliner, "but I'm not sure what good that would do."
"Go to bed. I've got these two." Brand leaned back into the couch cushions with a contented sigh. "This is a great couch; it'll be like old times. Maybe throw a couple of blankets over them, though, since it's getting chilly. Is that weighted one handy? I'm not sure it does anything for Jones' anxiety, but it might help Clark."
Fred Andrews had gotten it for Jughead after quite a bit of research, and even though Jughead had insisted that he didn't think it worked, he had been using it on his bed every night for the past few weeks like a talisman.
"I'll get it." FP retrieved the blanket from Jughead's room and turned off the lights so that only the movie was illuminating the living room. He hesitated as he tucked the interns in and turned to face Brand. "Wilson said something today. That you're a generous mentor. I'm not sure she really knows what she's talking about... but she's not entirely off base."
"Don't stress yourself trying to square things in your mind, old man. We can leave it at she doesn't know what she's talking about." Brand smirked, but it was rueful. "I'm just making it up as I go."
"Alrighty. Good night, Brandon."
"Good night, FP."
00000
Brand thought Sunday was just about perfect. He woke up to find Clark curled against his ribcage, snoring lightly, and Jones taking a photo of them with his camera.
"You want breakfast after you've secured your blackmail material, kid?" Brand smiled and stretched before he shook Clark's shoulder lightly. "Clark, buddy, let's rise and shine."
Both Jones and Brand startled when Clark jerked awake and brought his hands up to grab at Brand.
"You're in the living room. We're about to make breakfast." Brand had instinctively locked his arms around Clark before fully processing that the movement might escalate his panic, and he was relieved when his words caused Clark to freeze, look around himself, and then relax slightly.
"Oh great." Clark blinked at Jughead, taking in the camera. "Some wingman you are."
"You were ado-orable," Jughead drawled teasingly. "Chocolate chip pancakes?"
"Yeah, sure. I was worried you wouldn't quite have full-blown diabetes after last night, so more chocolate would really set my mind at ease. Where's your dad?" Brand wasn't sure what time it was, but the sun was fully up.
"Still asleep. We were up pretty late." Jones shrugged.
"You poked your head in there?"
"He's snoring." This time Jones gave Brand a more serious look. "He's okay."
"Just making sure he didn't seize his opportunity to become a free man and leave me the mammoth task of raising you." Brand deflected the obvious: they were all on edge after the events of the past couple of weeks. "Clark, you take the first shower. I'll get breakfast ready to go. Jones, take the monster for a run before he starts running laps around the house."
Trigger had ways of expressing when he had not had enough exercise.
Forty minutes later, Clark and Jones were both showered. Trigger was a lot calmer, FP was brewing coffee, and the pancakes were being poured.
And Jones was perilously close to jumping up and down.
"Are you serious? Today? I can take your bike out?"
Clark had disappeared into the shower immediately after getting up and he'd been almost painfully quiet since then, but he smiled along with Jones' enthusiasm.
"Your godfather's taking you out to get some more practical boots first, but then yeah. Sweet Pea's borrowing my car for the day and he's agreed to let me use his bike once we've got you up and running on mine." FP grinned when Jones became even more excited. "You ever been on a motorcycle, Clark?"
"Yes, sir." Clark nodded enthusiastically. "I might need a refresher on riding one in the states, though. There weren't a lot of rules where I learned."
"My kind of man," FP said approvingly, and Clark's smile widened.
Brand didn't even mind when the kid insisted that he had to do the dishes - "and don't forget the bathrooms!" - after breakfast, though Jones did help out a little when he realized that would get them to the store sooner.
And then all of that perfection started to have a few cracks in it.
"So, while we have a few minutes to ourselves... what exactly convinced you that Clark and your father are being threatened by the same source?" Brand asked as he drove Jones toward the store FP had recommended for gear. "Last I heard, we knew who was threatening Clark."
"Oh. Well... Clark heard the guys mention Donn. And they said to stay away from Dad because I was there." The kid shrugged, and then was silent for a few long moments. His next words came out in a rush: "And, uh, Donn may have said that Clark and my dad know too much. Back when we were at the field office. The day that Southside High was bombed."
Brand pulled the car over with a jerk of the wheel and a brief sound of protest from the brakes. "Hang on. What did you just say?"
Jones cringed against the passenger door, looking a whole lot like he was waiting to be hit.
"Jones, I'm going to try to be calm about this, but we are going to sit right here in this car until you tell me everything that Donn said to you. Starting with why you didn't tell me everything, I don't know, three weeks ago when it happened. Did he threaten you?"
Brand figured they'd start there, though he had a sinking feeling that he knew who had been threatened. It hadn't been FP or Clark - the subjects of the issue at hand - and odds were it hadn't been the kid either.
"He said that... it would let you have more freedom if I played ball." Jones was almost mumbling, and he was gripping the door handle like he might attempt a run for it. "That you could make more decisions about your life. Your career."
Brand took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It did precisely nothing to help his blood pressure, but it still seemed like the right move. "Okay. All right. That explains some things. What else?"
"I told him that Clark and Dad don't know anything."
"That is correct. It also seemed to carry weight with Donn for about two weeks. So, what changed?"
"I don't know. I don't know." Jones was suddenly gripping his head as if he was in pain.
"Look, Rose said that Donn's under control." It was time to just talk, Brand figured. This was beyond messed up already, and he-who-must-not-be-named was only one part of their problem at the moment. "Nothing seems like it's changed on his end, even though Donn is at least tangentially connected to the internal investigation at work-," Brand began working through the reasoning aloud.
"You... shouldn't assume that you're getting the whole story from Rose." Now Jones looked like he was about to curl up in the fetal position. He was still gripping his head and avoiding eye contact.
"Well. That's good advice. Any particular reason why you're giving it to me?" Brand heard his own tone go dangerous and winced. There was no chance that the kid missed that.
He needed to calm down or this was going to go sideways real fast. And neither of them could afford for that to happen.
"No." Jones' voice was barely audible.
"So…" Brand spoke slowly and schooled his voice carefully, "maybe Donn's been cut loose and he's out for blood to try and get back in the game?"
Brand continued to process his thoughts aloud, but now with an eye for the kid's reactions. It seemed likely that Jones had spilled everything he knew... but Brand had also thought that when they'd previously debriefed, after Southside High.
"I have no idea." Jones' voice was stronger now. "I just… don't trust anyone. They're playing all the sides, Brand."
"Yeah. I know that. I didn't think you knew that." Brand frowned. This was remarkably more intuitive than the kid had ever been before about the criminal side of things. "Do you know something, Jones? Do you somehow have information? Or are you just guessing?"
"I'm guessing." His tone was grudging now, but it sounded like the truth. It sounded as though Jones was irritated not to know more. Okay. Brand could work with that.
"But you want me to treat this like it was all Donn's doing - attacking both Clark and your father - and you think that there's no change to our status with Rose?" Brand could only see that scenario making sense with what they were currently discussing. "You and I are still under protection, in spite of the fact that a specific violation to our agreement is being made?"
"I thought I took care of it. I thought I explained to Donn-,"
"There's no blame when it comes to Donn. If he's struck out on his own or been kicked to the curb, then nothing you said was going to change what he chose to do next." Brand figured that was likely true. "For some reason he thinks this is going to win him points, maybe get him back into good graces even, but he's also taking the time to outsource it so it isn't him specifically - personally - coming after FP or Clark." Brand took another deep, calming breath.
"He might be right; that might be a winning strategy. I don't know. And he knows for sure that coming after you or me will land him six feet under in a hurry. It makes some sense, and we knew things were messy with the FBI investigating Russell. Donn might have been cut loose over that, panicked, and here we are."
Jones nodded miserably.
"Well, we need to get you some boots and we need to get back to those two before someone notices that they're without their human shields. We'll stick close to them, and we'll sort this out as soon as possible with a few phone calls." Brand frowned.
"Should we just go home?" Jones' voice shook.
"We're getting you boots. I'm going to text FP to lock things down until we get back, though, and you're going to have to ride double with your father on his bike today. I'm sorry if that's disappointing, but that's where we're at, kid. If Sweet Pea can handle it, I'll take you for a spin so you've got company on a solo ride - but don't expect anything fancy. We should stick close to the house."
"It's fine."
"This is what you were planning to do last night." It all suddenly came together for Brand. "You were just trying to get to Clark so that nobody else would dare go near him."
"Yeah." Jones was back to curling himself into a ball.
"No - that's okay, kid. It was a smart move. That's actually going to be our plan for the time being. As long as we're safely off-limits, we'll just keep those two with us at all times. Your dad was shot while he was with you, but it sounds like that got cleared up in a hurry if Clark's right about what he thinks he overheard. So we'll buy some time that way, and I'll get on the horn and get this sorted out. This is a clear violation of the agreement, and you better believe that some law is going to be laid down."
Jones was breathing easier. Brand texted FP and got a quick response - and was immensely grateful that FP had begun working with him much more easily and did not ask any questions about why Brand was telling him to be on high alert.
And things were finally making more sense. It wasn't great, but it was worlds better than the confusion that had been swirling around the whole situation up until now.
Brand just wished he didn't have a nagging feeling that there was something else he needed to put his finger on. Something that might even be the key to all of this.
He was used to the feeling, though. Paranoia could be nasty like that.
00000
Brand's getting so much POV! I should let a few others get words in edgewise, but he was SO light on POV in previous stories that I've been enjoying getting to know him again now that he's trying to be an upstanding(ish) member of the community. :) I hope you enjoyed as well, and that Passover or Easter or "weekend after which Cadbury cream eggs go on sale" (whatever your holiday might be) is/was/shall be lovely for you. A mouthful, but I mean it sincerely. :) As always, any notes will be enjoyed richly and inspire me muchly as I work through chapter twelve!
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