Hunting Party

2.

It goes to shit sooner than Rook could have predicted: the very next time she sees Jacob, as a matter of fact.

It's a day or two later, and she's back in Holland Valley, engaging in one of her newest all-time favorite hobbies: pissing off John Seed. She'd borrowed Tulip with a solemn vow to Addy that she'd take excellent care of her baby, and had taken the chopper's guns to John's ugly-ass YES sign. John had thrown a shit fit about it, threatening her death over the radio. It was hilarious.

She's on the prowl for more ways to get under his skin when she spots a convoy heading south from the Whitetail Mountains, a familiar redhead in the driver's seat of one of the big trucks in the middle. She makes a few wide circles above them, long enough to establish that they're most likely headed to John Seed's ranch, then heads back to the marina to drop off Tulip. Then she grabs the red white and blue ATV she'd found on one of the buckwild crazy Clutch Nixon runs scattered around the county and heads back to Holland Valley.

She keeps her distance from the ranch, using binoculars to confirm that the convoy is parked outside, then she settles in to wait.

A few hours go by, long enough for her to confirm that this isn't just a quick stop on Jacob's part. The sun sets. John Seed leaves his house alone, heads to his hangar, and a few moments later, his plane takes off. Rook packs her shit up and hustles to the ranch.

At this point, evading the notice of Peggy guards is second nature—she moves in their blind spots, killing none, working her way to the house. I should take this place soon, she thinks as she goes along. That would really wreck John's shit. Take all his stuff, his clothes, his planes—I think I might actually be able to make him cry. That would make Nick so happy, he might name his kid after me.

She's been here before, once, when she was getting Nick's plane back, so she remembers the floor plan pretty well, and she stealths her way to the second floor balcony, where the guest bedrooms are.

She checks the first one and gets nothing. Second one, the same. The third, she's barely pushed open the door, wincing as it creaks, before she's being hauled upright by her shoulders in a repeat of the last time she met with Jacob. He pulls her deeper into the room, lets her go, and goes to close the door, as silently as he did last time.

"God damn it," she swears, "why can I never get the drop on you?"

"You're not as good as you think you are," he says, quiet as always, and he goes to the window to close the curtains before he turns to her, scowling. "What in the hell do you think you're doing here?"

"Saw y'all roll up earlier today. I had to come say hi."

Jacob stares at her for a moment. "That was you in the chopper."

It's not really a question, but she nods anyway. "Mm-hmm, are you the reason nobody shot at me?"

He doesn't answer, which she takes as answer in itself. She looks him over for a second. He's about as casual as she's ever seen him, barefooted, holster gone from his leg, jacket off, leaving just a gray t-shirt and jeans and the normal shit hanging around his neck. He looks like he might have been getting ready for bed. He's watching her with an expression that looks like an equal split between exasperation and amusement, the latter signaling that he's possibly in a slightly more tolerant mood than she's used to, and so she figures she can get away with pushing him a little bit. "I realized I've got questions I forgot last time I saw you, questions I probably shouldn't ask over the radio."

"Oh, yeah?" He glances to the side, rubs his mouth—she suspects he's hiding a smile, even if it's just a shitty, mean-spirited one. He saunters closer, and she doesn't get the chance to actually ask her questions before his expression shifts into a frown—he glances over the tank top she's wearing under her unbuttoned denim shirt, catches hold of the hem, rubs it between thumb and forefinger, and looks back up at her with a cocked brow.

She raises her eyebrows defensively. "Okay, Red, you know what? You've lived here for way longer than I have, you can't bullshit me into believing you don't know all about the Testy Festy. I don't want to talk about it."

His mouth twitches. The smile he's fighting back this time is definitely mean-spirited. "You have fun?"

"I got hammered and slingshotted all but the last block of balloons before blacking out. I'll never know what I could have won and I'm bitter and I said I don't want to talk about it. Questions."

"What questions?" he asks, letting go of her shirt, folding his arms and shifting his weight as he leans over her, fixing her with a look of exaggerated patience.

She narrows her eyes again and says, "What do I have to do to get you to let Staci go?"

He wasn't expecting that, she can see it in his eyes, though he plays it off pretty well. He stands up a little straighter, shifts his weight to his other foot, and says, "Staci, huh? Yeah… that dog won't hunt, Dep. He's staying where he is—and he's lucky to be anywhere at all after the stunt he pulled."

A little alarmed, she asks, "You're feeding him, right?"

"For now."

"What does that mean?"

"Means what it means."

Obviously, she's not getting anywhere with this. "What if I offered to trade myself for him?" she asks, just to see how he'll react.

He raises an eyebrow. "Ah… no. Offer to just take you's still on the table, though."

"Mm-hmm, I'll keep it in mind." Shit. She'd known the topic was a non-starter, but she'd opened it up anyway just to see how willing Jacob is to negotiate. The answer is apparently not at all, which isn't great.

"Anything else?" Jacob prods.

All right, fine. Change of tactics. If he's not willing to let her play fair, then she'll have to cheat. He wears the bunker key around his neck, after all. Can't be that hard to just take it, especially if she can get him to let his guard down. Of course, Jacob's not the type to fall for a little bit of light flirting, will see right through her if she's just trying to jerk him around. Good thing she means it when she says it.

"Okay, so…" She places her hands on her hips, cocking her elbows behind her back, and tilts her head conspiratorially towards him. "Am I allowed to hit on you again, or is that still a no-go?"

"I'd prefer it if you didn't."

She clicks her tongue. "Spoilsport."

"At least not publicly."

"Oh, come on, I barely ever see you in private."

"Well. Make more of an effort."

She raises her eyebrows again, transparently delighted. "You telling me you want to see me more?"

"Don't fish, Dep."

"I'm not fishing. It's just there."

He lets out a little scoff, just barely an exhale. He glances away, then back. "You ever think it's funny how I don't even know your name?"

Nope, because that's how I plan on keeping it for everyone until this is over. It helps that way, helps her distance who she was and the life she had before coming here from the things she's had to do since she tried arresting Joseph. She doesn't voice the thought, just widens her eyes playfully. "Oh, my god, we're just like Cinderella."

She's aiming to freak him out a little, comparing whatever's going on between them to a fairy tale, but he flips things around on her when he asks, "What's Cinderella?"

She tries to keep from reacting, flashing back to what she'd read about the Seeds in Joseph's book, how limited their exposure to media in general was, at least throughout their childhood, but she's sure a little bit of her horror makes it to her face—doubly sure when Jacob Seed actually laughs at her, a quiet sound, but unmistakable. Oh, perfect. Now he's fucking with me.

She narrows her eyes. "Okay, don't do that, it's creepy."

The low chuckle fades into a smile that looks alarmingly genuine, given that it's coming from him, and he reaches up, lays a warm hand along the side of her neck. "Couldn't stay away, could you?"

Something twists in her lower belly. She's not sure if it's a reaction to the smile or his touch. She ignores it, focuses on taking him down a peg or two, because he's starting to sound a little bit cocky and she can't have that. She's still glaring at him, but can't help but smile a little, rueful. "You really think you've got me figured? What, that I've got some great big blind spot when it comes to you or something?"

"Mm." It's an affirmative sound. God, he's infuriating.

"Wrong," she says, giving him a quick, ferocious grin that doesn't reach her eyes. "I'm seeing more clearly now than ever, Jacob. You know? Suddenly, it's like… I know exactly what I need to do."

He steps close enough to her that their chests touch, bares his teeth, like he's not entirely in control of himself. "And what… exactly… do you need to do?"

She stares at him for what feels like a long time. He's so close, in easy reach. She has all her weapons on her. She feels electric, alive with the potential of the moment, with all the different choices she could make right now. She smiles even wider, and says, "It's a surprise."

His hand tightens on her neck, and he pulls her up to him to kiss her. It's a rough kiss, harsh, like a punishment, and in reaction, she feels a pulse of viciousness and her hands go to the lean edges of his waist, pressing into the flesh there until she feels bone, trying to mark him.

He pulls back abruptly, runs his fingers down the edge of her jaw. She can still see ruts in his beard where she scratched him a few days ago. She says, "Okay. I just wanted to check in. I should probably go before John gets back."

"Oh, John's been back for a while."

She and Jacob turn in unison towards the source of the voice to see John himself, standing in the now-open doorway, looking at them like Christmas has come early. Shit, is Rook's first thought, how the hell did he sneak up on us, he's always so loud in those stupid boots of his, and then, immediately after: oh, this is about the first time I've been in a room with John Seed without Peggies around to protect him. Lucky me.

She charges him, of course she does, and he's busy quietly closing the door so he doesn't see her coming; she sucker-punches him in the jaw. As he reels back, she snatches at the bunker key around his neck, but even as off-guard as she's caught him, he grabs her hand before she can yank it from him and wrestles it back. Half a second later, Jacob's got both arms tight around her ribcage, lifting her off her feet and off his brother, and John, mostly recovered from the blow she dealt to him, gets his revenge, hitting her hard in return while she's immobilized.

"You fucking monster," she swears as the pain explodes across her chest and Jacob turns around, putting himself between her and his brother before setting her back down; "you punched me in the tit. What is wrongwith you?!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says, deeply sarcastic, blood already shining in his beard where she split his lip. "I forgot to ask where you'd prefer to be hit."

"You want another go at me?" she demands, and makes another attempt to get to him, but Jacob catches her again. "C'mon, fucker, let's fight. Winner gets Joey Hudson, bitch!"

"Wra-ath," John sing-songs, taunting her, and it's effective; she makes a near-superhuman effort to break loose from Jacob's hold, and almost succeeds.

"Stop it!" snarls Jacob, keeping his grip on her with some difficulty, then throwing her back again so hard that she almost loses her balance and falls back on the bed, recovering herself just in time. "Enough! The two of you are like little kids scrapping. Grow up."

"I'll show you grown-up," Rook snaps at him as she emphatically gives John the finger. He sneers at her, but he's too busy checking his mouth for blood to return the gesture.

Jacob waits a second, making sure they're not about to try attacking one another again, but with John quieting down, Rook is able to get her anger under control, and besides, John had hit her pretty hard and now her left breast is aching something fierce, making her less keen to start the scrap back up. Assured that they're staying in their respective places for the time being, Jacob turns to his little brother and growls, "What do you want?"

John's eyes go wide, innocent. "Jacob," he says, like he's wounded by the underlying accusation that he's going to be shitty about this, "I want what's best for all of us. You know that."

"Cut the shit. What's it gonna take for you to keep your mouth shut?"

John smiles, but his eyes narrow, cutting briefly to Rook, and despite herself, she feels a slight chill. It strikes her now that she's in a room alone with two Seeds, with both of them between her and the door, and even though she and Jacob seem to be negotiating some sort of understanding, there's no guarantee that he won't turn on her in a second, especially if it somehow comes down to a choice between her and his brother. It's not a great position to be in, and, super-casually, she puts her hand on the grip of her gun.

"Lift that hand, Dep," Jacob says the second her fingers make contact, sending a warning glare in her direction. "Don't be a fucking idiot."

Grudgingly, she raises her hands, signaling that she's backing off. "Fine, but y'all try ganging up on me and I will lose my shit."

They both return their attention to John, who's radiating a particularly unbearable sense of self-righteous smugness. Rook rolls her eyes. "So, how long has this been going on?" he starts conversationally, pointing from Jacob to Rook and back again, as if he could be talking about anything else. "I knew the Deputy was carrying a torch, but I have to say, Jacob, I'm surprised at you."

"John," growls Jacob.

"Joseph isn't going to be happy," John says thoughtfully.

"Joseph isn't going to find out."

John raises his eyebrows. He plays shocked well, despite the fact that everyone in the room knows it's a bullshit act. "Oh, you don't think this is something he might want to know about?"

Jacob stands perfectly still, staring at his brother, saying nothing. Rook hasn't really thought about how similar they look until now, watching them watch each other. After a few seconds, something passes between them that she doesn't quite understand, then John's shoulders loosen, and he smiles again.

"Well," he allows, "I believe we can discuss some options, figure this out. But first…" He turns his gaze on Rook, eyes shining with something weird and feverish that looks like happiness but isn't, and it's creepy as hell, so she gives him her best fuck-off scowl. That just gets him smiling wider, and he looks back at Jacob. "I want the two of you to do something for me."

Uneasily, Rook also looks at Jacob, trying to figure out how to read this turn of events. His brow is furrowed slightly; he looks as wary and clueless as she feels, until he suddenly doesn't. She sees comprehension hit him, followed instantly by exasperation. "No."

"Yes."

"Fuck no. We've been over this already."

"That thing is your responsibility and you know it."

"Um?" Rook says, and is summarily ignored.

"You think I personally jammed Bliss down its craw till it lost its goddamn mind?"

"You're conveniently sidestepping the fact that these experiments were your idea and are explicitly sanctioned by you."

"Guys?" she tries again.

"Just get some of your men on it; that's what they're here for."

"Ahh, as much as I truly hate to say it: no. I'm not losing any more people to that thing. You're going to handle it. Take her, and kill the fucking thing."

Okay, phrasing's getting alarming, I'm going in. "John," she breaks in before Jacob can reply, "bring me into the loop. What the hell are you talking about?"

The brothers are having an angry stare-off, so John doesn't bother to look at her as he answers. "About a week ago, a creature escaped from one of Jacob's little 'experimental facilities' and headed straight this way. A moose. A judge. It has killed people and destroyed property, and Jacob here is adamant that it's no concern of his."

"I've got too many things to worry about already without hunting your goddamn moose for you."

John's eyebrows lift in an innocent way that makes Rook suddenly sure Jacob just made a fatal misstep. "Oh, things to worry about—things like jamming your tongue down the Deputy's throat? Yes, I can see how that would keep you very busy."

Jacob takes a step forward, pointing his finger threateningly in John's face. "I changed your diapers, you little shit; keep talkin' to me like that and—"

O-kay, that's enough. John hasn't budged, going by the smug look on his face he clearly has no intention of backing down, and as much as Rook would dearly love to see Jacob beat the tar out of his baby brother, she's pretty sure that'll end any negotiations John's willing to have about this whole mess. No negotiations means Joseph finds out, Jacob will get in trouble, and best-case scenario, he's not allowed to see her again. (Worst-case scenario, Joseph encourages their connection, which would creep her out so much that it might kill the mood permanently.) From a practical standpoint, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but Rook's never been particularly practical when it comes to him.

So she wedges herself between them, the back of her shoulder pressed against Jacob's chest, bringing her hand up to push John back a step or two, because it's her opinion at this proximity that his cologne is too fucking strong and she wants some breathing room. His eyes, still alight with that very particular gleam younger siblings get when they're torturing their older siblings—she knows it well—switch to her even as he lazily allows her to move him.

"Okay, John, yes," she tells him. "We'll do it."

"Like hell," Jacob rumbles behind her.

She tries very hard not to roll her eyes. She sort of manages. She feels her eyelashes flicker, is pretty sure that John, at least, can how done she is with Jacob right now. "Fine," she says. "Then I'll do it alone, and you two can stay here hashing out your issues, which, by the way, clearly run deeper than just the moose. God, I wish I'd never witnessed this. It humanizes you both too much. I mean, next you'll be telling me Joseph used to pick his nose and eat it."

John is smirking, looking past her at Jacob. He doesn't have to speak to convey the dare: go on, let her do it alone, see how well that sits with you. Rook can hear Jacob's teeth clenching when he finally says. "Fine. Let's go."

Rook's always known that John is the kind of guy who can't leave well enough alone. "Oh, but it's dark," he protests lightly. "There's no rush; the two of you can spend the night here and set out in the morning."

Jacob makes a noise that sounds alarmingly like a growl, and Rook says, "John, he's gonna deck you if you keep going, and you know I'm not going to try to stop him."

John's smile doesn't budge. "No? Ah, that's a shame," he says. "Oh, well. Sit tight. I'll go clear a path for the two of you to leave undetected, since you don't seem very good at managing on your own."

He must know he's on extremely thin ice with that line, because he's out the door almost before he's done speaking, quietly closing it behind him. Rook stays where she is for a moment, slowly exhaling. Being around John is a little like hanging out with the world's most tenacious youth pastor, if that youth pastor was also into whips and torturing small animals—she needs a second to recover from his energy.

"You shouldn't have given him what he wanted," Jacob says.

She turns to see him glaring at the door like he thinks if he does it hard enough he can set it on fire, but once she moves, he switches that glare to her. She raises her eyebrows, shakes her head, and says, "Oh, this is not my fault."

"How do you figure?" he asks, heading to the bed and sitting down to put on his boots. "You're not even supposed to be here."

"I'm never supposed to be anywhere, so it all cancels out. I can be wherever I want. Anyway, you kissed me."

"Yeah, that always ends up being a mistake, doesn't it," he mutters, glancing away from her as he stands to strap his leg holster into place.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

She narrows her eyes. "Okay, you know what? We're not gonna do this. We're gonna go kill this moose, it's going to be easy, and it'll chill John the hell out. You can either accept that we got caught and be a good sport about it or you can sulk the whole time, and let me tell you from experience, life is better when you decide not to be a total bastard for no reason whatsoever."

Jacob chuckles, a bitter little sound, as he slides his jacket on. "Okay. Thanks for the advice, kid."

She wants to scream, he is so difficult, but John returns before she can give in to the powerful-yet-foolish impulse to call Jacob a condescending douchebag to his face. "All right," he says, clapping his hands together magnanimously, "coast is clear out the back. Head east to find the thing. Maybe a little bit south, just… follow the general path of destruction and dismay." He pauses, glances between them, and then says, so earnestly that it has to be sarcasm: "Be safe, you two."

Because Rook is annoyed with Jacob, and because she's starting to get the sense that John's weird hate boner for her isn't quite as powerful as his instinct to give his big brother a hard time whenever possible and she thinks he'll back her up, she says, "I was thinking we should say a little prayer before starting out."

John's eyes light up. "Yes!" he says at the same time Jacob gnashes out a resolute "No."

"Yes," Rook says, giving John a real smile for probably the first time in her life. Knew it. "Just a quick one. I'll say it."

John reaches out to take her hand, and she lets him, but when they simultaneously reach for Jacob with their free hands, he recoils. "No."

Rook had figured that might be a step too far, and she doesn't want him to go nuclear right before she has to spend an undetermined amount of time alone with him, so she reaches out instead, grabs John's other hand. "Fine. Not my problem you're cutting yourself out of the holy circle."

She bows her head and closes her eyes, hears Jacob mutter "Christ," but she and John are blocking the door and making an effort to escape would wreck that cool and aloof image Jacob likes to project, so he stays grudgingly put as she prays out loud.

"Dear Lord in heaven above, please bless us in this endeavor. Save the innocent and smite the wicked, unless we count as wicked in your eyes, in which case please have mercy because believe it or not at least one of the three of us is doing their best, and also please keep John's hair perfect, and if you would maybe find it in your infinite grace to make sure Jacob doesn't crack a smile because I'm sure it would kill him at this point dear Lord and that would actually sort of upset me. Thank you in advance, amen."

"Amen," John repeats, giving her hands an emphatic little squeeze before releasing them.

Jacob, stone-faced, asks, "We done here?"

She steps aside and motions to the door. "After you."

He passes without looking at her, shoulder-checking John on his way out, but John's riding high and his obvious amusement doesn't falter one bit. Rook moves to follow, because no part of her wants to be in a room alone with John Seed, even under the most ideal circumstances wherein she'd be beating the shit out of him, but he catches her by the arm as she tries to pass him, fingertips cutting into her flesh through her shirt. She stops, heaves a put-upon sigh, and waits.

He takes his time leaning in and speaking to her, his voice quiet and poisonous. "After this is finished, Deputy… we have work to do, you and I. You will still confess. You'll still atone. I'm not done with you yet."

She lets him have his say, then she clasps his shoulder, because two can play the power move game, and she smiles, a much less friendly smile than the last one he got from her. "We'll see. I'm coming to get Joey. Soon. Batten down the fucking hatches, John."

His grip gentles, then he lets her go. She smacks him on the shoulder twice, a little too hard to be considered friendly, then turns and goes after Jacob without wasting so much as another glance on him.

A/N - forgot to mention that I triangulated Rook's height based on the height of the various voice actors/whether in-game she's looking down on them, up at them, or right into their eyes. of course that's not helpful with Jacob given that he never lets you stand toe-to-toe with him but I figure we've got enough to go on.

next: calling Jacob Seed cantankerous is an understatement.