Aphrodite’s Pollen - Chapter 1
Series Rating: 18+ Adult - Minors Do Not Read
Pairings: Agent Jack Whiskey x f!reader
Story Summary: Reader joins as a newly recruited agent and partners up with Agent Whiskey to complete a mission to take down a drug cartel selling Sex Pollen that is also responsible for his late wife’s death. As the mission progresses with the reader will Whiskey let his guard down and be able to move on?
Chapter Summary: The new recruit (reader) starts their first day as an agent and sparks are already flying
Chapter Warnings: Near-miss car accident, death, loss of pregnancy, bit of physical intimacy
Word Count: 3,488
You’d always dreamed of being an agent, ever since you turned 18. It took years of training, military service and studying but at 35 you were officially a graduate and brand new agent for the Statesman new taskforce, drug enforcement. As you walked into the boardroom of senior Agents for your first briefing, the air was filled with electricity, abuzz with rumours surrounding the new mission. From closest to furthest away, you looked around the room and noticed a few familiar agents, Tekelia, Vermouth, Champagne and Vodka, all chatting amongst themselves and glancing to give you a head nod as you walked towards your seat. Looking around the room you notice all but the one seat directly opposite you is taken. The case file on the table in front of you is neatly prepared and sealed, reading “Top Secret: Aphrodite Pollen”. Intrigued, you pick up the file and just as you begin to unwind the cord on the cover, a heavy set of footsteps sound at the doorway of the boardroom.
“Ah Agent Whiskey, so nice of you to join us.” Agent Champagne cheers, standing up out of his chair to shake his hand. Whiskey looks stunning, his broad shoulders swinging with a hint of confidence as he saunters towards his seat, his steel cap cowboy boots clicking on the polished timber with a heavy thud. His dark blue jeans were fitted but not too tight, contrasting against his white button up shirt and jet black tie. The custom statesman suit jacket with black shoulder patch details fit his muscled frame like a glove and the jet black cowboy hat was like the cherry on top of a delicious sundae. He was tall, easily 6ft 2 and despite all the senior agents being 45 and above, he looked easily in his late 30s. To keep yourself from staring at this handsome gentleman any longer, you immediately glance down at your file and then to your left, directly towards the mission board where Champagne was now standing to present with Ginger.
From the corner of your eye, you see Whiskey flick back his suit jacket before taking his seat, exposing the laser lasso handle that sits on his right hip. The smell of his intoxicating musky cologne immediately wafts directly into your nostrils, making them flare as you breathe in more. You quietly swallow, trying to steady your breathing and focus on the meeting, but you can’t, Whiskey’s eyes are locked on you, studying your features intensely. The sound of Champagne’s introduction breaks your focus and you sit up straighter in your chair, clearing your throat quietly. As he takes his seat, he looks up. Whiskey is taken aback by your beauty, your eyes glistening and your lips plump and flush red with excitement about your first day as an agent. The dark curls of your hair placed perfectly around your face and your tailored suit made for a powerful and alluring combination. He spent what felt like an eternity trying to decipher why he felt such a strong draw to you, an intense familiarity. Then, the flashes of memories he tried to keep repressed for the last two years came flooding back. His first date, his wedding day, finding out he was going to become a father, it all finally made sense; you reminded him of his late wife, Maryanne.
“Everyone this is our new junior agent, ‘rosé’, she’s a new graduate from the academy and will be joining a senior agent of my choosing on this task force. I’d like you all to make her feel welcome” Champagne smiles as you look around at all the other agents in the room, giving a small wave and a nervous smile. As your eyes move back towards the end of the table, your eyes finally lock to Whiskey’s. His dark brown irises twinkling from the afternoon light shining through the high rise windows behind you. His soft, plump pink lips contrasted by his thick, dark groomed moustache, slightly parted as if he was in shock. Slightly embarrassed and confused at his facial expression, you give him a respectful smile to be polite and redirect your attention to Champagne and Ginger who are beginning the meeting.
“Team, we have a new mission this month, if you’d like to open up your case files we will begin. Ginger, I’ll let you go over the science of this mission” Champagne begins before taking his seat again, next to Whiskey. “Thank you Champ” Ginger replies, shuffling her notes on the podium next to the display screen before pressing the digital clicker. A number of photos, charts and data pops up on the screen. “We have been notified of an illicit substance circling in the nightlife and wider communities, appropriately named ‘Aphrodite Pollen’. It’s a powder, created by chemical extraction, similar to cocaine, from a flower called the Bleeding Heart flower. From medical records we obtained from hospital admissions and expert witness accounts, once consumed, the powder elicits feelings of intense sexual arousal, hallucinations and elevated body temperature. Depending on the dose, the effects can last as little as 1 to 4 hours. There are currently no medical treatments available but manufacturers are allegedly advising buyers that orgasm helps subside or eliminate symptoms until it wears off.”
The agents around the room murmur and some chuckle quietly out of awkwardness of the mentioning of sex and orgasms as part of a mission detail. You look down at your file and begin to read the data sheets but you can still feel Whiskey’s eyes glued to you, studying your face as if he recognises you or he has just seen a ghost. Feeling somewhat creeped out now by Whiskey’s incessant staring, you direct your gaze towards Champagne, who follows Ginger after her presentation. “Thank you Ginger. Now, we are organising a field mission a month and a half from now where two agents will attend a Bar downtown. Based on our intel they are selling the substance and have details of the dealer who has been selling it on from the manufacturer. We need to locate the dealer who has been said to frequent the venue on Saturday evenings and bring him in for questioning.” Champagne looks directly at you, his eyes narrowing as he peers down his half moon glasses. “Agent Rosé seeing as you’ve just newly graduated I’d like you to go on this mission, get out in the field and learn the ropes”
A wave of excitement tingles down your spine as you nod eagerly, all the senior agents fixing their gaze on you. The uncomfortable sensation dissipated as Champagne continued “We need a senior agent to accompany her” he scans the boardroom before honing in on Whiskey, who he notices is transfixed on you. Champagne smiles to himself slightly. “Agent Whiskey, you’re our most senior agent in the team, It’s been a while since you’ve gone on a mission and Rosé would benefit from your experience and leadership skills. It’s a low risk mission, it should be simple”. Your ears begin to burn and you thank the stars you’re wearing makeup and blush to hide the intense reddening of your cheeks. Whiskey hears his name and snaps back into reality, swiftly looking to Champagne. “Uh-yeah, of course Sir. Would be good to get back out there.” Whiskey replies, his eyes darting from Champagne to your face, to gauge your reaction. As if you’re under a spell, Whiskey’s deep, southern drawl of his voice draws your eyes to his again and you squint slightly as you give him a small smile, your heart thumping in your chest.
He can see so much of his late wife in you, your hair, your smile. On one side, he feels elated to be reminded but equally traumatised and morose. Whiskey's agent training had prepared him to be stoic and composed externally, though his heart was feeling like it had been suckerpunched. As if he was looking directly at his wife on your face and you controlled her expressions, he didn’t want to upset her, so he shot you a flirty smile with a quick wink.
After a few more sentences from Champagne, of which neither you or Whiskey were listening to, the words “Alright team, dismissed” rang out and everyone began to exit the room, leaving you and Whiskey alone. The tick of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room was the only sound left, filling the empty silence. Whiskey’s gaze never falters, still watching you yet his eyes have softened since he first laid his eyes on you. With an eagerness to befriend a Senior Agent and now partner on your first day, you pucker up the courage to introduce yourself properly. “Hi Agent Whiskey, it’s so nice to properly meet you” you outstretch your hand across the oak boardroom table, smiling. Whiskey leans over the table slightly and puts his hand out to meet yours. Your black stiletto acrylic nails scratch along the palm of his fingertips, sending electric shocks into his hand, before they reach your fingers. His large soft digits pass along your palm before they curve into a gentle grip as you shake his hand.
Whiskey can see how eager and excited you are and after the last two years of misery and repetition he was glad to have something new in his life. “It’s nice to meet you too, we haven’t had a junior agent at Statesman for quite a long time.” Jack replies, breaking from the handshake and leaning back in his chair, his chest pushed out slightly as he stretches. “I’m very excited for my first mission” you chirp, flipping through some of the pages in the file in front of you. “There’s so much information to go through, hopefully I have enough time to prepare”. Jack senses your nervousness and leans back on the boardroom table “I’ll probably be up till late going through the mission file too, us Statesman agents go to a bar run by the distillery around the corner for food and some drinks, maybe we could go there, discuss the case over some dinner?” He suggests, cocking an eyebrow.
Your face lights up at the offer and you nod silently yet eagerly. “That sounds like a great idea” you respond, following Jack out of the boardroom and towards the lift, clutching your case file closely to your chest. Standing next to Jack in the lift, you realise how tall he is, his trained stance towering above you. As the lift numbers count down, you notice Whiskey’s eyes look to his side to meet yours. “So, how long have you worked as an Agent at Statesman for?” Jack pauses, calculating in his mind. “About 25 years. Started as a junior agent when I was 21” Jack replied as the lift doors opened to street level. “Wow so young” you marvel, exiting the lift as Jack follows after you. “A lot has changed since then, admission and study requirements are a lot stricter. I got picked up after Champagne saw me take out a bunch of drunk guys in a bar car park with my lasso skills”. You laughed “I wish that was all it took for me to get in. It’s taken me 17 years of study and service to even qualify”.
As you begin to cross the street towards the bar, you look over your shoulder to see Jack shoot you an upbeat look. A quick glance to the corner of his eye makes his face turn to fear as he lurches forward in slow motion and pulls you back towards him. Confused and in a state of shock you freeze solid as Jack presses you flush against his chest with your file in between you, wrapping his arms tightly around you as you both step back. “W-wha?” You manage, the air practically knocked out of you and replaced with that intoxicating smell of Jack’s cologne. A split second later a speeding car races through the lane you were just standing in and down the street. “Damned idiot!” Jack yells, moving his arm off your lower back to rock his clenched fist in the air in the driver’s direction as his other hand is still placed against the back of your head and neck, pressing against your silky curls. Still caught up in the rage he was feeling and focusing on deciphering the number plate before the car got too far away, your hands were pressed up against Whiskey’s broad chest and could feel his erratic heart beat. You applied a bit more pressure with your hands as you closely studied his handsome features, particularly his lips and jaw as he was so tall and right above you that his eyes were not fully visible.
Jack quickly comes back to reality as he breathes in the sweet scent wafting from your curls inches from his nose & tickling his moustache. He thinks he could stay like this forever until he feels the pressure you’re applying to his chest and looks down, still embracing you while he frantically checks you over. “I’m sorry for scarin’ you like that, damned speedin’ driver was gonna take you out. You okay?” Jack pants, searching your eyes for an answer. Your gaze shoots up from his parted lips to his widened eyes. “Y-yeah, I’m okay. Thanks” you mumble, your breasts squeezing against Jack’s chest as you catch your breath. He slowly releases you from his embrace and you step back before quickly turning around and stepping onto the footpath outside the bar. Jack follows behind you with one hand hovering on the small of your back, before reaching out to the gold bar on the door, pulling and holding it open for you to enter. As you step inside the country music plays quietly in the background against the chatter of other agents sharing tables together.
A detailed assortment of liquor bottles line the bar shelf, illuminated against the “Statesman Saloon” fluorescent light in the middle of the wall. The smell of peanuts, pretzels and top shelf whiskey and bourbon fills the room and a slight hunger pang hits your stomach. Jack gestures you over to a table with two seats and he pulls one chair out, gesturing for you to sit. You bow your head slightly “Thank you Whiskey, you’re such a gentleman” and take your seat. As Jack sits down across from you, he nods at a waitress before smiling at you “My Momma always told me, manners maketh man”. Brandy, the waitress reaches your table and clicks her pen before pressing it against her order pad. “What can I get y’all to drink?”. You look over at Jack who nods for you to order first “I’d like a whiskey sour, with egg whites instead of cocktail foamer if you have any” you reply, smiling at Brandy. Jack’s eyebrow cocks and a small smile etches on his lips before ordering “Just a shot of the usual”. Brandy nods before heading back towards the bar. “Humor me, what exactly is in a Whiskey sour?” Jack quizzes, leaning over the table to hear you better over the ambient noise of the bar. “It’s a cocktail, made with Whiskey, lemon juice, sugar and egg whites. It’s been my favourite thing to order since I was legally allowed to drink”.
Jack lets out an almost silent chuckle, flashing that handsome smile. Combined with his look and the temperature in the bar, you undid your suit jacket and swing it around the back of your chair, Jack averting his eyes to Brandy now coming back with your drinks. You rolled up the sleeves of your button up white blouse and looked up to thank Brandy as she placed the drinks on your table. “So, Aphrodite Pollen, sounds almost like something out of a movie” you giggle, slowly opening the file. You turn it vertically across the table so both you and Jack can read its contents, flipping through its pages. “It says here that the dealer’s name is” you peer closer to read the name under the dimmed bar lighting “Pietro Alvarez”. You look up to Jack and see his warm tanned face run white. His hand gripping the shot glass brings it up towards his lips and he washes it down in one gulp.
He peers down to the case file and sees a snap-shot image. Slicked back hair, wire thin moustache and wearing a zoot suit esque three piece. “Bastard” Jack hisses under his breath, trying his hardest to remain composed. Your eyes widen with concern and intrigue, leaning closer across the table. “You know this guy?”. Jack sits in silence for what seems like an eternity, now becoming overwhelmed with traumatic memories of his wife passing. Audible and visual scenes, Vodka radioing in to the Statesman office that a pregnant woman had been gunned down at a local bodega by a man high on drugs who had been detained. Ginger tapping into Vodka’s glasses camera live feed to see Jack’s wife on the pavement, holding her belly and crying in pain. Vodka frantically opening a med pack and trying to apply pressure bandages to her wounds, the sounds of sirens echoing in the background. “She got caught in the crossfire, we were trying to arrest Alvarez during a deal and they just started shooting i-“. Jack hearing a ringing noise in his ear as he collapses next to Ginger in the command centre. Then it all went black.
“Whiskey? Whiskey? Is everything okay?” Your soothing voice muffled by Jack’s flashback state begins to pull him out of his memories and back to you. He looks down and notices one of your hands is on top of his, gently squeezing and shaking it. He looks down, averting your gaze. “I’m sorry, just some bad memories is all” Jack murmurs, shaking his head. “Oh, I’m so sorry” you pout, waiting to remove your hand until Jack appears less upset. His fingers twitch under your hand slightly and you slowly lean back, withdrawing your hand but stop when he seems to silently wince at the loss. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to” you coo, averting his gaze so he feels less self conscious. As you go to close the file with your free hand, Jack takes his other hand and stops you. “No, you’re my partner and we are going on this mission to catch Alvarez, so you should know this about me”.
Jack nods at Brandy who’s standing at the bar and she begins fixing him another shot. She promptly brings him his drink and he throws it back Instantly before continuing. “Two years ago, my late wife, Maryanne, was shot and killed by one of Alvarez’s buyers outside of a Bodega not far from here. Alvarez got away” he says with a now stoic voice. Your eyes soften and glisten with a faint film of tears, your heart breaking at his confession. As he locks eyes with yours the unspoken emotion radiating from you softens his bravado. “She was pregnant with my little boy” his voice, breaking for a split second. “Oh Whiskey, I’m so sorry”. Your hand moving back on top of his, he breathes a small sigh, feeling equally upset and relieved he got it off his chest. “We’re gonna get the bastard, I promise” you huff, squeezing his hand and giving him a reassuring gaze.
After a few hours of studying the case, more drinks and some food you both step out of the bar and onto the sidewalk which is practically empty. The chilly air makes you shiver despite wearing your suit jacket again so Jack takes off his and wraps it around your shoulders. “Here, I'm going back to headquarters anyway, it’ll keep you warm until you get home”. As you pull the jacket taught over your back, Jack sticks his hand out into the street and hails you a cab. “Thanks so much for a great first day, Whiskey” you smile. “No problem, partner” he replies, opening the door of the cab. Jack stands there waiting for you to step inside, but you stand there a little longer on the sidewalk. You’d known him for less than 24 hours but you feel like you’ve known him for a lifetime. Everything you shared in the bar and the unspoken connection between you two compelled you to step forward and embrace him quickly followed by a quiet whisper of “Goodnight, Whiskey” before you stepped into the cab. The smell of your hair came and went like a brisk breeze and as Whiskey closed the cab door, you turned your head slightly to the left, smelling his suit jacket. As your cab drove off down the street, you watched Whiskey in the rear vision mirror, still standing in the same spot on the sidewalk grow smaller and smaller.
