igotacrossbow | open post

He gives a 'hmm' and lifts them up as if he wants to inspect them. He nudges them towards her and helps her into them as he loads up a few magazines and snacks in case they don't want to leave the room, paying as he absently holds down a conversation with the cashier about the weather. He also gets a recommendation for brunch, in a little bar near here.

"Found you breakfast," is all he says, keeping his hand at the small of her back.

The sundress he bought her is a halter, floral thing, light and breezy with a very deep back, which means the guiding hand he places on her spine to help her cross the street is spread directly on her skin. It's too warm to shiver, but she wants to. Instead, she plucks Cougar's hat off her head and drops it back on his, adjusting the brim with a conspiratorial smile.

"Let's sit outside," she gushes, when they get to the bar and one of the waiters starts to try and get them to sit down. It'll let her keep her glasses on, and Cougar can hide under his hat like he likes.

Cougar gives a sound of agreement, allowing the waiter to sit them out on the patio. He thinks it will be better than trying to squint in the darkness, but it won't have the privacy to talk about anything. Here, they will have to play at their cover, so he offers Jake a warm smile, easing the chair back for her so she can sit, stroking fingers through her hair, and then helping drape her napkin into her lap before he sits down himself.

"You're beautiful," he praises, where the waiter can hear them, but he means it with all his heart.

She knows, having gone out with Cougar many times, that he can be almost painfully charming in that chivalrous Disney Prince kind of way, but it's one thing to see him do it to someone else and something totally different to have it directed straight at her.

She doesn't have to force the blush that stains her cheeks when he calls her beautiful, and she ducks her head a little to let her hair swing forward and shield her face from the knowing smile of their waiter.

"Carlito, stop," she complains, but it's obvious by her tone she means the complete opposite. "You're ridiculous."

Even though he'd been the one to suggest the name, he's powerless to stop the overwhelming rush that assaults him, struck by the way his cheeks pinken up a little at that name in her voice. He's not ready for that, but it's the best thing he's ever heard. "E verdad," he says, soft and for no one's benefit but theirs.

"Enchiladas," he orders for her, ordering oatmeal and eggs for himself.

She's too busy blushing to order for herself, but thankfully Cougar has that well in hand. The waiter is just about to leave them to it when she remembers, and reaches out to stop him before he can walk away.

"Oh, and coffee, por favor," she adds, smiling winsomely at him, distracted by the sparkle of the ring on her finger.

She knows it's not actually a diamond, just as she knows it's not real, but it's easy for a moment to pretend that she wasn't the one who put it on her own hand and that it wasn't Clay who provided them for them. Jackie is an easier performance than Jake had ever been expecting. It helps that Cougar actually treats her like a girl when she's like this, pulling out chairs and holding doors for her. She's so used to being one of the guys that sometimes she thinks they forget she's a chick.

The look Cougar is giving her right now clearly says he hasn't forgotten. It's just for their cover, but she can't help the way it makes her feel warm and tingly inside.

He reaches out to tangle his fingers with hers over the table as he flips up his own coffee mug to get some delivered for himself, too. Rubbing his thumb back and forth, he knows that he wants to prolong this as much as he can. "When do we tell the others? Our plan?" he says, because if they're going to meet in public, they're going to need to be on board.

"Your glasses, they look nice," he praises, a little awkwardly.

"ASAP, don't you think?" is her reply to his question, though she's too busy watching his hand holding hers to look up to see his face. Those long, brown fingers have literally held her life in them more times than she can really count, both from high up and from much closer to home, slippery with her blood as he's patched her up until they could manage to get her to a medevac.

He's always touched her gently, she realizes. Even when he's had to pin her down so he could bandage her wounds, his hands haven't hurt her. That means something. She's just trying to process what.

"Thank you." She places her chin on the palm of her free hand, her elbow propped up on the table, and smiles at him. "They were a gift."

He can only imagine the comments that they'll have to deal with. He knows that Clay will give him a look that understands far more than he lets on. He knows Roque will probably not approve. And he thinks (and hopes) that Pooch will be somewhat on their side. Pooch, of course, knows about Cougar's feelings when Jake is concerned thanks to a bad reaction to sodium pentothal on a mission that Jake had been back at HQ for. He thinks that all of that is worth it to keep touching and holding onto Jake's hand like this.

"Someone must really like you," is his teasing reply, about her glasses. "They suit you."

"I just need a new battery and a SIM card and we'll be good to go." There's a tiny, traitorous, part of her that almost doesn't want to contact Clay and the others. Yes, of course she wants to go home. Yes, she misses her sister and her niece. Yes, she wants to see them again.

But she's scared, and tired, and honestly, she just wants to hole up somewhere to recuperate. Preferably with Cougar beside her, a comforting presence that she knows she relies on too much, but can't make herself stop.

He treats her so well. She thinks she can be allowed to want that to continue, even if it is a lie.

"Gosh, I hope so." She bites her lip against a laugh and slides her hand out from under her chin so she can waggle her fingers at him, flashing the ring she's wearing. "He gave me this, too."

Edited 2016-07-19 17:21 (UTC)

That swooping feeling in his gut tells Cougar that he's in trouble.

He knows how to read his body and his reactions. He knows when she laughs at him like that, smiles at him like that, bites her lip like that...it all spells trouble for him. He breathes out and wonders if it would have been safer if they had split up, too. Not safer for them as teammates, but safer for their friendship. He knows this can all go badly and it's only been a day.

What happens if they're stuck here for two or three days? Two or three weeks? Months. Without a mission to focus on and something to occupy his time, he can't imagine that he'll be able to compartmentalize his feelings away so easily. Something might happen. "Next, we buy a phone," he says, staring at his place setting. "Call Clay. Tell him."

The change in his demeanor is as sudden as it is startling, and Jake can't help her surprised blink. A quick glance around reveals the fact that there's nobody around them any more, so she figures he's dropping the act now that there isn't anyone to fool.

Jake tries to keep the disappointment sinking in her gut from showing too obviously on her face.

"Yeah," she agrees, sliding her hand out from under his and folding them in her lap instead. She can twist her fingers nervously in her napkin this way without it showing. "I still have my netbook, I can try to get online and see what the fuck is going on. See if the connection's strong enough that I can take a look at our records." She knows what they're going to say, but that doesn't mean she won't want to hack into the military database to find out.

"Make sure you don't get caught," is what he says, voice riddled with worry. The last thing he needs is to set all this up only for it to come back and bite them when someone comes to hurt her and he has to kill them. He lets his gaze fall to her fingers and even though he knows they don't have to put on the act, he wants to.

No, not the act. He just wants to comfort her. He slides his fingers along the table, sneaking under the napkin. From there, he gently rubs his thumb against the pads of her fingers, trying to be hopeful when he knows he's just facing a stretch of nightmares and nothing better than that. It's why he feels weak enough to lean his chair around to hers, sharing space where they can also speak more quietly. "Are you okay?"

She frowns at him, affronted. As if she'd ever get caught, please.

Cougar reaches out to take her hand again, rubbing his thumb over her fingertips with the kind of gentleness that most people wouldn't expect from a man whose whole career consists of shooting people from far away and getting the fuck out of there before anyone knows where he is.

"No," she whispers, miserable. He scoots his chair closer, leaning into her, and she doesn't stop herself from leaning into him in turn, pressing her shoulder to his and sighing. "I'm not okay. I'm so far from okay I don't even know what okay is any more." She sighs, slumping in her chair so she can rest her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes for a moment, glad for the sunglasses that hide her eyes from the outside world. "But none of us are okay, are we? I can't let myself wallow."

He knows that he's not okay, but it's not something he wants to talk about. It's the kind of thing he wants to ignore and let fester away, which is why it breaks through in ridiculous nightmares that leave him screaming and terrified. His head bowed down, he watches the way his fingers look over her skin, dark and tan against the pale. That won't last long, in the Bolivia heat, but for now, it's like she's untouched.

"No, no one is okay," he agrees, a pinched look on his face. Maybe that's why he wants to dive into this lie so readily. It's still a part of him, but it's the part of him that only gets to exist if neither of them are still in the army.

She shifts to curl her hand more firmly around his, lacing their fingers together and holding on to him.

"I'm sorry," she breathes, clutching at his hand. "I'll be better, okay? I just. I need to adjust." She can make her performance flawless. She can do it. It helps that it's no hardship to pretend to be married to Cougar, not when he holds her hand and lets her lean her head on his shoulder, supporting her the way he's always done.

The waiter comes back with their coffee and doesn't seem to be surprised to see their new seating arrangement; she quickly shifts so that she's cuddled up to Cougar a little more sweetly, smiling at the waiter like he's just interrupted a tender moment between them. "Gracias."

He tries not to wince at the accent, not sure if that's also for show or if that's just Jensen rearing her head. He pours them both coffee, drinking half of his back in one go because he prefers it black, but when he's through, he's giving her all of his attention again.

"Is there anything else we need? For our story?" He's only pretended to be married the once before and that had been with Jensen, too.

Jake, on the other hand, dumps multiple sugar packets into her coffee, because she has a sweet tooth to rival Hansel and Gretel's.

"Jesus, I don't know," she mutters, stirring her coffee long after all the sugar has dissolved. Last time, everything was provided more or less for them, and they'd only been on the hook for a night. "I figure if we just leave out the explosions, most of our stories will be fine. What do you think?"

He's never been married or even engaged to get close enough to know. Cougar's longest relationship had been two weeks before this. If he's counting his time in the unit with Jake, they've been together years. It strikes him, then, as he's stroking her hair, that if they ever were to get together, they really would have years of a base to work with.

"Don't know anything about being married. Or with someone," he admits.

She laughs, more of a snort, and shakes her head.

"Me neither," she confesses, still fiddling with her spoon. "Nobody can put up with me for more than a night or two."

Edited 2016-07-19 20:58 (UTC)

Maybe they can figure this out together. Or maybe they're doomed to spectacularly crash and burn because neither of them know how to do this. He lifts her hand and busies himself pressing kisses to her knuckles, sighing as he tries to think of what they need to do. "Can you fake the papers? Online?"

Oh, he has to stop doing that. It's distracting as hell, and she nearly spills her coffee as he kisses across her knuckles, but she doesn't try to pull her hand away or anything. It feels nice. Really nice.

She snorts again. "Please. Who are you talking to?" She shakes her head at him, mock-disapproving. "I can fix the papers, don't you worry."

He gives her a look that says it doesn't have to perfect, just has to be good enough to fool the people they're trying to evade. "I don't know what else," he admits. "Jackie and Carlito Martinez," he reminds her of the names. "We need a wedding day," he realizes, suddenly.

"Carlito? Not Carlos?" She supposes people could name their children diminutives of other names, a la Jackie, but it just doesn't sound right. Carlito should be a name that's used sparingly, on purpose. It's special.

Absently pushing her ring around her finger with the tip of her thumb, she thinks. "Not recently. We had to save up for our honeymoon. What about...early April? I always fancied a spring wedding."

"Carlos," he agrees, even though he doesn't want his real name anywhere near this. Then again, it's not like anyone knows him as Carlos Alvarez anyway, so Carlos Martinez will suit just fine. "May 2nd," he says, decisively, which is the day that they'd first met in the unit.

It serves as good a date as any, because it has meaning.

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