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Fallout - Chapter 16 "Undercover"

Jack Daniels x F!Reader Explicit/ 18+ (Minors DNI please) Chapter Word Count: 9.8k (she's beefy) Chapter Tags: Undercover mission, arguments, both characters feeling like there is one sided love at play here (they are in fact idiots), yearning, drug mentions, mentions of drug use, canon typical violence, angst.

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<- Previous Chapter (Ch.15 "A Past Made Present")

You and Jack stage a fight, setting into motion your uncercover mission. It isn't long before you're targeted by two men, who provide rather unorthodox methods to "fix" your marriage.

A/N: Two chapters in a week? Am I okay? @avastrasposts enjoy your little easter egg in here!

Breakfast passed in a bit of a blur for you both. After the revelations of the early morning, and combined with the cheap whiskey so early on, you admittedly could have been slightly more on your game when it came to scouting out the area. But the full continental spread soon saw you right, and eventually you were back on top form, searching the room for anyone untoward.

You weren’t alone in your search either. Before leaving the room this morning, you and Jack had both equipped yourself with Statesman tech that would see to it that Ginger, Astrid, and Tex were all able to keep tabs on your movements, scan the areas, and keep a line of communication open between you if you got separated. You’d blinked a few times as you got used to the contact lenses which were also live camera feeds back to base, and struggled to get the discreet comms devices embedded far enough in your ear. Normally you went down the more old fashioned route, and had slightly bulkier devices that didn’t require going in as deep. But they also had a myriad of wires to function, and with today involving a spa at the very least, there was no room for the older model.

But within moments of getting used to the devices, they fired up on Statesman's end, and you both got a clear line back to base. It was at the very least reassuring, even if a bit of a nuisance, that you had your team on your side.

“Do we even know what we’re looking for?” Jack asked between mouthfuls of toast, joining you in making short work of your breakfast.

Ginger had done as much digging as she physically could. You knew that your two victims from the other night worked in the same place, were having an affair, and there had clearly been trouble in the relationship leading up to them coming here together. It looked as though they were both taken advantage of being emotionally vulnerable, and were offered something to help perk them up.

What you hadn’t figured out was who supplied them. All you knew was that this mystery person was definitely at the resort at the time of them receiving their narcotics. But if that was a man, a woman, someone tall, short, slim, fit…none of you had a clue.

“Sounds dumb but anything out of sorts. Anyone who pries into our business, or seems to take an interest in our wellbeing,” you said, sipping your morning coffee. It wasn’t the nicest blend, and each sip was more bitter than the last, but given what you started drinking as soon as you woke up this morning, you’d take some sub-par coffee right now.

“Did you say you’d booked us in for a spa day?” Jack asked, recalling your conversation last night. You nodded, setting down your mug and reaching over for a refill.

“Only an hour. You don’t have to suffer that long,” you chuckled, topping up Jack’s mug as well. He grinned, then took a sip, before leaning back in his chair. You watched as his eyes narrowed, his mind clearly working at a million miles an hour.

You loved watching him like this. Seeing how his brain worked, how he put a plan together, made you almost forget that he had ever been through anything like what he had. In these moments he was just Jack, the agent who was remarkably clever. The head he had on his shoulders would always be impressive, even though you knew there was so much more to him that arguably added to his attractiveness.

“I have an idea,” he said, leaning back over and whispering now. The main dining hall where other patrons came to dine was slowly filling up, and by your calculations you reckoned that most of the resort’s guests would now be here right now - at least 70%, anyway.

“Go on?” you asked, mirroring his body language.

“May I preface that this has nothing to do with my disdain for spas, by the way?” he grinned, that devilish smirk he gave when he knew he was up to no good; but would probably get away with it nonetheless. You raised your eyebrow, not entirely convinced.

“What have you got planned?”.

“This room’s fairly full now, right?”, you nodded, “So, statistically, anyone hankering after some poor unfortunate soul will more than likely use here,” he pointed to the ground, referencing the dining hall, “as a prime location. This is where all the dirty laundry gets aired, where people never expect to be perceived. This is where friends discuss their pending divorces, husbands reason with unhappy wives, or secret affairs come to play.”

“Where are you going with this, Jack?” you asked.

“Stage a fight with me, sugar. Rip me to shreds, storm out, and make a deal about going to the spa alone,” he smiled, pleased as punch with himself clearly, “If anyone is going to latch onto us, we have to be seen to be properly going through some shit. We can’t just mumble to ourselves and seem like a couple. We have to be in trouble. And then hopefully, once we are separated, we might have a better chance of getting somewhere with this.”

You hated that he made a good point. But, as you found was often the case, Jack usually did. Beneath all the fucked up parts of his life which plagued him each day, the parts of himself he fought so desperately to bury, was such an intelligent man.

“You really will do anything to get out of this spa trip, won’t you?” you said, trying to suppress a giggle. If Jack was right, and there was likely someone here now watching over everyone, trying to sense trouble, the more you laughed and smiled with Jack the worse chance you had at this plan working well.

“Sugar, you’ve no idea what I’d give to see you in a nice bikini all hot and flustered in a pool. But not here. I don’t trust myself right now,” he admitted sheepishly, the apples of his cheeks reddening at the confession.

His words knocked the wind out of you, and you felt your chest tighten slightly. What did he mean that he didn’t trust himself right now? Was kissing him a mistake this morning? But you could lament on your decisions later. Right now, you had a job to do.

“Do you agree with me?” he asked. You nodded slowly, before slipping into the role that you needed to perform. You hardened your glare, adopting a gaze of stoicism as you looked over at Jack.

Standing in your seat, you scrunched up the napkin that you’d laid over your lap, and slammed it onto your plate. You stared at Jack, forcing your muscles to contort into ones of anger and hurt, ones which felt so unfamiliar when around him. It had been months since his actions and words had made you feel actually cross, and even then you knew he was just defensive about what he’d been through. You couldn’t even draw on those times to influence your fake anger.

Jack gave you a half grin as he watched you, sat back in his seat and waited for an eruption to come from you, an argument he was going to have to lose. He took a bit of delight in it if he was being honest with himself, knowing that he was about to see you come to life in a way you never let anyone else see. Your undercover persona was something he’d only heard about up until now, and he was decidedly giddy to see it in person.

“How fucking dare you!” you spat at Jack, pointing a finger at him, channelling every part of you into feigning anger as much as possible. You thought back on your life and drew hatred from every shitty boyfriend, every unfair school test, and every fucking terrible mistake you’d ever made into that single point. You needed people to believe this.

Jack’s turn to act came after you spoke, your voice loud enough to disturb the immediate tables around you, but your body language causing a nuisance all the way over to the other side of the dining hall. He softened his brow and leant back in his chair, his face pulling down into an almost terrified frown, like he genuinely had no idea what you were doing.

“B-but, I- I never did anything!” he stammered, playing his part effortlessly.

“Liar!” you roared now, your voice bellowing around the room and certainly catching the attention of most the people in your vicinity now. A few people stopped eating, one woman even almost knocked over her teapot, too busy paying attention to your words.

“I know all about her. This whole trip is just some fucking sham of yours, isn’t it? Buy me something pretty and hope I forget the bullshit you put me through? Did you really think I didn’t know? Did you think I’d be so easily embarrassed that I’d let you try and convince me that she doesn’t exist??”.

Some call it method acting. You called it, “hey, remember that shitty boyfriend you dated in your early twenties who bought you something from Chanel every time he cheated?”.

“Baby, please, I swear. Larissa means nothing to me!” Jack was now on his feet. This was becoming a full on row, with Jack bumping the table and clattering cutlery together as he stood, further adding to the effect.

“Don’t say that woman’s name. I don’t want to hear a word from your mouth all day, let alone if it’s about her!” you hurriedly went to collect your jacket from the back of your chair, slinging it on fast, “But fine. Fine! If you think your money will buy my lobotomisation, my silence, then so be it. I’m going to the spa!” you said, turning on your heels and beginning to storm away.

“Baby, wait, please!” Jack called after you. You ignored him until you were a few more paces away, before stopping and turning your head.

“Oh, and don’t even try to disable the credit limit on the AMEX card, sweetie. I intend to spend a lot,” you grinned, turning around and walking out of the dining hall.

Jack sighed, defeated, and played his part of the troubled husband who was shit out of luck, sinking back into the chair. He could feel the entire room’s eyes turning on him, judging him silently as one by one people went back to eating their breakfasts. He didn’t let his face falter, even when Ginger came through on the comms device that the two of you had donned before leaving the hotel room;

“Very convincing, agents. Spoken like two scorned lovers,” she chuckled over the device.

Now out in the hallway, you kept your pace up so as not to make anyone passing by suspect that you were at all disingenuous. You heard the same message from Ginger as Jack did, and managed also to not grin to yourself, secretly pleased with your efforts. Although her choices of words did pull at your heart a little, and while you knew that it had been very convincing for the sake of the mission, you loathed how you had to speak to Jack like that.

But there was no time to wallow in self pity.

Jack rose from his seat again, putting back on the disgruntled husband facade, and headed out of the dining hall. A few whispered voices followed his every step, and while he was thrilled the diversion had worked, he too found his chest aching at how you’d had to speak to each other. You’d had your fair share of arguments over the last few months, his recovery and general stubbornness doing nothing to aid in your relationship at times, but there had never been any malice to the words you’d said before. Until today.

But for as much as you both despised the performance, it clearly worked.

** You **

Collecting a few items from your room, such as a bathing suit and towel, you stayed true to your word and made tracks for the spa. To everyone you passed you remained stoic, like you had actually just found out about your husband’s affair, in case word had spread across the hotel. You imagined it wouldn’t take long, given the size of the resort and how many people seemed to be in the dining hall at breakfast.

But that’s what you needed if this was to work. If your leads were right, either of you could be connected to the individuals you were looking for, who sought out troubled couples in need of a release.

You checked into the spa, and before long were in the locker room getting changed. There wasn’t much of a plan for you once you entered the spa, you just had a hunch that this could be a hub of gossipers if nothing else. Even if you weren’t approached today, this could be the best place to ensure that word spread that you were very much these people’s target audience.

Entering the main spa, you had to admit the ambience and scent instantly seemed to relax you. A warm embrace as steam left one of the saunas nearby kept the place warm enough even in just your bikini, combined with the scent of eucalyptus and lavender. It had been years since you’d been in a place like this, that admittedly you were a little annoyed your first trip to a spa in so long had to be undercover work.

You found a lounge chair in one of the side rooms, hoping that it would give you the right level of seclusion where someone could approach you for something nefarious without worry of prying eyes, but it also gave you enough of a view into the spa that you could hear the main hub of guests coming to and fro.

Laying back, you picked up one of the treatment catalogues next to you and began perusing the options. This was your equivalent to building an ideal roster in an online game, picking out what treatments you’d die for the next time you came to a place like this. A Himalayan salt scrub treatment, an anti-aging rejuvenation facial, manicures and pedicures…

You looked down at your hands and scoffed at the idea of having properly manicured nails. It had been years since you’d had them done, with your job not exactly being the kind of workplace where a fresh gel-set would be advantageous. The best you’d got were a pack of stick on nails for Tequila’s birthday party last month, just to make it seem like you made some effort. It was his 40th, after all.

But then something else caught your attention. The simple gold band you’d been wearing as part of your undercover mission, acting like Jack’s wife. The way your heart thudded at the sight was not something you missed; nor was the familiar feeling of even wearing the ring. From the second you had slipped it on, nothing about it had felt out of place. It felt…right.

You shook your head, trying to rid your mind of wandering down a path it shouldn’t ever go near. Even if the two of you were currently romantically involved, the concept of anything that far down the line was positively ridiculous.

Sighing softly, you dropped your hand and went back to looking through the various magazines that were available. Idle celebrity gossip, mostly, the kind of thing you never made any effort to pay attention to. The only time you really paid attention to anything of the sorts was on days where your cleared missions were subtly mentioned in the following days' newspapers, often masqueraded beneath celebrity relationship dramas, “who wore it best?” articles, and bullshit weightloss tips. The kind of articles most people, with a brain at least, would entirely skip past.

It didn’t take long for boredom to take over, and you were wishing that you’d either brought a book with you, or made more of a scene coming in here. Maybe you hadn’t got the attention you’d both hoped for with your plan?

But then a young man entered the room, dressed in swim shorts and a plain polo t-shirt. You noted that his shorts were dry, and wondered if he was waiting for a partner here, and didn’t particularly enjoy going into the various pools this spa had on offer. He made you think of Jack and his disdain for the place, and at that thought you couldn’t help but stifle a giggle.

You smiled politely, only looking up for a moment, before pretending to be engrossed in the magazine again. By now you’d reached the puzzle section, and in your head you were rapidly solving the crossword, a sudoku, and a letter shuffler. Too easy, all three of them…

“Hey, do you mind if I join you?” the man asked. You looked up again, and nodded at him, before gesturing to one of the lounges that lay beside you. Aside from him, there was nobody else in the room, so you figured his questioning meant he was likely going to sit near you. Perhaps he innocently wanted company. Or perhaps your plan had worked…

“Of course not. Please, take a seat,” you said. The man smiled at you before sitting in the lounge chair next to you - they weren’t too close to one another, so even though he was next to you he didn’t feel like he was crowding you. But still, a bizarre choice if this was an innocent venture.

“Thanks. Nice to meet you, I’m Leon,” he said. You set your magazine down and leant over the gap between the loungers, shaking his hand.

“Melanie,” you said, giving him the undercover name you had rehearsed with Jack in your room this morning after his confessional.

“What brings you here then?” he asked.

“My husband and I have come away for a few days. How about you?” you asked, not giving him a chance to immediately pinpoint your ‘marriage’, and also distinct lack of a ‘husband’ by your side.

“I’m here with some friends. Boys trip, I suppose!” he chuckled.

“Not here with the missus then?” you asked, genuinely a bit nosey now. Leon shook his head.

“Nah. Some of the guys are married, and their wives are at much fancier hotels just a few miles from here. But we’re all ‘slumming it’,” he chuckled, “at this country club.”

“Good for them,” you smiled, chuckling under your breath.

“Don’t think much of this place then?” Leon asked. You shook your head, biting your lip slightly, as if stifling another laugh. You were about to speak, but Ginger cut in through your discreet earpiece.

“Whiskey, I’ve done a scan through your retina cameras, and his story does not check out. His name isn’t Leon, and he doesn’t appear to be with a group. Security footage shows he’s been here for weeks. Keep him talking, I think we’ve found our guy. I’ll let Jack know.”

“How come?”.

You almost missed Leon’s question, so distracted by Ginger’s info-dump on you. Statesman technology was a marvel, so discreet that even as the wearer you would forget about it, so for a covert operation like this it was ideal tech to have for collecting as much intel as possible. It also meant that you and Jack were never truly separated when apart on these missions, which given you could be dealing with laced narcotics, was probably not a bad thing.

Thinking fast, you sighed to yourself and pressed your lips together, before speaking.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it here, but I think my time here has been…soured,” you said. Leon, or whatever his name actually was, just nodded, offering a tight smile - the kind people give you when they already know your life has gone to shit, but they don’t want to let onto that fact.

“I don’t like to pry, but I couldn’t help but hear the…outburst, at breakfast,” he offered another sympathetic smile, so much so that you genuinely thought that even if you and Jack had genuinely had a fight, you’d be sick of his pity by now.

“I rather feel like everyone heard that,” you chuckled. Leon laughed lightly with you, and suddenly the sympathy seemed to dissipate. Whatever his reason, whether it be you lightening the mood, or a potential ulterior motive, his whole demeanour switched.

Ginger briefly cut in again; “Jack’s got company. A man also seen with your Leon here. I’ve got tabs on you both - keep it up, agent,” she said.

Your heart thudded at the mention of Jack’s name - you knew he’d be fine, that whatever this other man wanted with him, he’d be able to hold his own. You’d been his training officer for years, supervising every part of his return to Statesman, so on that front you weren’t worried. But your chest still tightened at the thought of him being in any kind of danger.

“Yeah, unfortunately I think word spread fast,” Leon said, and you couldn’t help but feel a little smug that your plan had worked, “I wasn’t even in the dining hall, and I found out within about ten minutes,” he chuckled.

You shook your head, feigning amusement, but didn’t let up your gaze on Leon. You felt like whatever his purpose here was, with you, you were about to crack that code.

“Oh, great!” you laughed, “Whatever will everyone think of me now? That I’m some crazy jealous wife?” you scoffed. Leon shook his head, furrowing his brow and then moving in his lounge chair to properly face you. With his legs slung off the side, he leant forward and grasped your hand with his, and squeezed it tight.

“Not at all, Melanie,” he said, speaking so softly you could almost be forgiven for forgetting that this man was likely the suspect you were looking for in the first place.

“Oh, what, do I not seem that to you?” you mocked him, but made an effort to not release him from your hold. You instead allowed your own fingers to dance over his, caressing his knuckles gently, lulling him into a false sense of trust.

“I see a beautiful young woman who has been betrayed, and she should be in her every right to have some…payback,” Leon said, “Besides, you could do so much better than your husband,” he winked.

And that’s when all the pieces fell into place. If this were an interrogation, you’d be having him now for his inconsistencies in his story. He claimed he wasn’t in the dining hall, but yet he knew what Jack looked like? You wondered if he’d just by chance seen Jack in passing, or if the two of you had been their target of operations well before even setting foot outside your room this morning.

You hoped your face didn’t give away any of the revelations you just had in your head, and instead put on a very fake tight smile. You may be playing the part of a heartbroken wife, sick of her husband’s affairs, but the idea that Jack wasn’t good enough for you stung a little more than you expected.

“You’re too kind, but I could never betray him,” you said, playing him back at his own game.

“Don’t believe in the saying ‘an eye for an eye’?” he asked. You chuckled under your breath, shaking your head.

“Isn’t the full version of that saying ‘an eye for an eye only ends with the whole world blind’?”.

You couldn’t resist being a smart ass.

Leon laughed to himself under his breath as you offered him a gentle smile, playing off your smart comment as jest.

“That is true, I suppose. I had never thought of it that way,” he leant further forward, now clasping your hand between both of his and holding it tighter. His eyes briefly dipped down and he smiled as you didn’t flinch - if anything you let him, continuing to move your fingers within his own, intertwining yourselves as if you were star-crossed lovers.

It felt disgusting.

“So you’re really telling me there’s no part of you that wants to have a little fun? Get your own back, settle the score, and just enjoy yourself while you’re here?” he asked. You grinned, playing along again, and too moved yourself so that you were no longer laid back in the lounge chair. Planting your feet on the ground, you clasped your free hand around his. Leon glanced back down, and you could tell he was brimming with excitement for whatever scheme he was about to propose.

“I never said that, did I?” you winked, feeling filthy at the attempt of flirting with him, it being something awfully unfamiliar as well as unwanted.

“No, I don’t suppose you did,” he grinned.

“What did you have in mind?” you asked, leaning forward a little more, making sure your chest was pushed together just right so that he could get a glimpse at what he was potentially after.

“I think I could show you a good time. And then, after, I could absolutely show you and your husband a way to…calm yourselves,” he smirked.

“Sounds exciting…but what exactly do you mean? A spa treatment?” you joked, and the two of you chuckled. You needed to keep up this act that you were naive to what he was doing, get as much as you could on record while another agent sat, metaphorically, behind your eyes and in your ears.

“No, sweetheart, nothing so…primitive,” he smirked, then stood up. With your hands still in his, you found yourself joining him, not wanting to be at a disadvantage so far down. He let go of you, sliding his hands now to rest on your waist, the one part of your body he could easily touch but that was also bare. Your skin prickled with goosebumps at his touch, your repulsion of being touched almost threatening to show itself.

“Then what?” you asked, placing your own hands on his chest, leaning in further. He chuckled, then leant towards your ear. He kissed your neck softly, and you let out a fake whine at his touch, fighting the urge to pretend it was Jack so close to you right now. Focus, damn you!

“Just trust me - you two will be different people after,” he said, whispering in your ear.

It was probably as much as you were going to get out of him - at least here, where anyone could walk in. You highly doubted that anyone dealing with narcotics would actually be stupid enough to outright offer them in such a public place. No, you had to change tactics.

“How about we head back to my hotel room, and you can tell me all about it?” you offered.

Leon’s grip on you tightened, and at this proximity you could feel the ever hardening length of his cock brushing against your thigh. If you weren’t careful, he may actually try and take this all the way…

But you trusted Ginger, and as the two of you headed out of the spa hand in hand, she confirmed through the comms that she was urging Jack to be at your room as soon as he could, without causing suspicion. You breathed a slight sigh of relief, knowing that backup would be just around the bend.

** Jack **

He made his way to the front of the hotel, a book in hand, and slung himself in a seat overlooking some of the gardens. It wasn’t in many people’s way, but it wasn’t secluded enough that if anyone wanted to come and talk to him they wouldn’t be able. The perfect mix of obvious and hidden - exactly what he needed.

Jack opened up the book he picked up, a Fyodor Dostoevsky novel, and flicked it open to the last page he was on. Jack didn't read a lot, if he was being honest he should really read more. Loretta had always been on at him to do so, to find comfort and solace in the words and tales of others. But with so much of his own life feeling like a poorly written novel, there weren’t many times he could find a good enough story to escape into.

Until he found Fyodor. Nothing quite distracted the mind like Russian existentialism. And man is a distraction what he needed right now. The argument with you, staged or otherwise, had left a sour taste in his mouth that he never expected.

Flicking through his current chapter, Jack pinned his ears back and began paying attention to the conversation of two men who walked nearby. He couldn’t quite make out everything, but he got enough that he suspected keeping an eye on them wouldn’t be the worst idea…

“...make you forget…”

“...side effects?...”

“...no cost to you…”

“...get me the woman from earlier…”

Jack was on high alert now. In this sleepy hotel, he didn’t imagine that there could be many people that the men were discussing other than you. He felt his heart rate increase at the notion of someone targeting you, even though your little performance in the dining hall was done with the exact intention of garnering this kind of attention. Ginger, still live over the comms, seemed to sense Jack’s train of thought.

“Seltzer, I heard it, and I’m digging now. Stay calm,” she said, sensing that Jack was likely about to be anything but calm. She knew how he felt about you, even if he’d never outright told her; she wasn’t an idiot.

Jack went back to his book, clearing his throat subtly to alert the men to his presence. But still, he never looked up. He acted like he had no idea they were there, and kept his cover; just as was planned. One of the two men nodded at the other, before leaving. The other, an older gentleman with a distinct lack of hair, came over to Jack.

“Friend! I am sorry if my associate and I disturbed your peace here,” the man said. Jack put the marker in his book and closed it, now looking up and flashing the man a grin.

“Oh, not at all! If I wanted total peace I’d be in my hotel room,” he chuckled.

“Are you looking for…company?” the man asked. Jack raised his eyebrow, then shook his head.

“No, I, uh- I take it you heard my wife and I having…,” he coughed, straightening up in his seat, “altercations over breakfast?”. The man chuckled, now sitting next to Jack. He was dressed in a smart pinstripe suit, flattering even for the gentleman’s larger frame.

“I think the whole damn place heard about that, sir,” he laughed, and Jack joined in, not wanting to seem suspicious.

“Yeah…we’re alright, really, me and her. Or, at least I hope we will be. That’s what this trip’s about,” he smiled flatly.

“So you ain’t looking for anyone else to warm your bed?” he asked. Jack shook his head.

“Not if I ever want my wife back. But I wouldn’t be remiss if she wanted that, y’know…,” Jack trailed off, catching himself in a scoff and shaking his head. “Oh, what am I saying…,” he lamented.

“Hey, hey, friend,” the man said, slapping one hand on Jack’s shoulder, “It’s all good. And I get what you’re saying. An eye for an eye kind of deal, yeah?”.

Jack nodded slowly, like he was convincing this man he had just figured out what he was trying to say, unbeknownst to him that he had this whole conversation mapped out before he even opened his mouth. He hated what he was about to propose, how he was going to use you for the greater good here, but he figured you’d understand.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right!” Jack smiled at the man, “But I ain’t sure my wife would see it as getting even…,” he said.

“What if…,” the man leant in, “I could help you with your…predicament?”.

“Go on?” Jack furrowed his brow.

“My associate and I, we work for this place. We help couples like you find yourselves again. Sort of like a package deal, our service,” he began his sales pitch. Ginger pitched in over the comms.

“Whiskey has company, but she’s fine. Sounds like she’s getting the same spiel from his colleague,” she said.

Jack nodded, both in response to Ginger instinctively, but also to make it seem like he was listening to this man’s offer. “I’m listening,” he said, leaning forward in his seat.

“Our methods are…unorthodox. But very effective,” he lifted a finger and pointed. Jack raised his eyebrow - his heart pounded in his chest at the words. Usually whenever he had used that word before, it meant shit was about to go down, or that this was only actually going to be a deal which benefited one of them. He guessed it wouldn’t be to his benefit.

“I like the sound of that, and Lord knows we need the help,” he chuckled under his breath, shaking his head.

“I hear you, my friend. Loud and clear. Are you interested?”.

Jack nodded, pressing his lips together, continuing his role of the concerned husband who was begging for a break.

“My associate and I, this isn’t our first rodeo. Like I says, we work for the guys who run this joint. It’s all above board,” the man began, almost like he was defending his scheme before he had even given any details to it, “But we can get you both something that’ll make you feel…alive,” he winked.

A lightbulb went off in Jack’s head as he remembered back to the email thread exchanged with the two victims that were found just over a week ago.

“You mean, what, a neat whiskey?” Jack laughed, trying to play off his nerves with humour. It would also let the other man drop his guard and begin to reveal more details…

The man laughed with him, slapping Jack on the back as he did, like they were old friends. The proximity to someone who had potentially ruined hundreds of lives, and potentially been involved with The Golden Circle case, made Jack’s skin crawl. His hand on his back felt like a hot branding stick, seeping through his jacket and onto his skin.

“No, my friend. Something…stronger,” the man said, before leaning over and slipping a small black velvet pouch into Jack’s hands. He clasped his fingers around Jacks, encouraging him to hold tight the literal evidence he’d just been handed.

Jack’s eyes darted down, and within the fist his hand had formed he felt with the tips of his fingers what could be inside the pouch. He had his suspicions, and they were confirmed, when four distinct pill-sized items rubbed against his fingers through the material of the pouch. He gulped, hard.

“And what’s the catch?” Jack queried.

“Catch? Whatever do you mean?” the man questioned.

“Well, I highly doubt you’d run a very successful business model if you go around handing out stuff like this. So what do I owe you?” Jack asked, still playing along. The man grinned, a properly sickly grin. The kind that anyone could recognise as that from someone who has an ace up their sleeve to play - and an unpleasant one at that.

“You’re a smart one, my friend. Your wife is a lucky woman,” he chuckled, “But you are right. I do need payment…,” he trailed off.

“So, how much is it?” he asked again, this time reaching for his wallet on the inside of his jacket pocket, showing his eagerness. The man raised his hand to stop him.

“Not money. I mentioned how my associate and I were a package deal, yes?” Jack nodded in response, “We tend to find that having…relations, with the wife, then followed by the two of you enjoying your trip of a lifetime…it’s the most effective way to get back to each other.”

“Are you asking me if you can fuck my wife?” he asked, his tone harsh, noticing how his stomach panged at both the thought of either of those men touching you, but also the painful longing at calling you his “wife”.

Later, Jack. Much later.

“Me, my associate…maybe both?” he shrugged, so bizarrely nonchalant about what he was asking. Then again, he had just handed Jack a bag of drugs without a care in the world, so it wasn’t all that surprising.

“Right…,” Jack went quiet, pretending like he was mulling over the decision, “Well, obviously I am keen for my wife and I to reconnect. And I suppose this would be the whole “an eye for an eye” shit; she would be within her right to fuck someone else. But I can’t just,” he chuckled, “Pimp out, my wife. I would have to ask her.”

“Of course, my friend, I understand. And we never would force her…but my associate, just so you know, is already with her, offering her this very same arrangement. Perhaps you won’t need to worry about asking her…maybe the decision has already been made?”.

The man laughed, a real smarmy and vile laugh that sent a shiver down Jack’s spine again. Somehow this man had utterly disgusted him twice already in their brief encounter. Suddenly, he found himself on his feet.

“My friend, relax,” the man stood to join him, “I was only teasing. But how about we find your wife, and finish this conversation?”.

Jack nodded, and without any further words the two of them set off for your room. Jack didn’t dare to speak as he paced the hallways, frightened his true feelings would come through and give away everything.

And he meant everything.

** You **

The walk back to the hotel room had seemed both agonisingly painful, yet over far too soon. For as certain as you were in your own abilities, the thought of being alone with a man whom you didn’t know was not something that filled you with much pleasure. Even back in your early twenties, you’d never been one for hook-ups and one night stands, too worried about the unknown aspect to it all.

So now, to be playing the role of the floozy wife who was out for an affair with a stranger, felt oh so foreign to you.

On slightly nervous fingers, you used the key card to access the room. The lock buzzed on the other side, indicating it had just been unlocked, thus reiterating to you how alone you two were truly about to be. There was no Jack on the other side of the door, nor had you seen him wandering the corridors. The spa was on the other side of the hotel to the room, and the two of you had agreed to try and cover a wide berth earlier, but that fact didn’t feel rather comforting right now.

“Well, this is me,” you smiled, instantly putting some distance between the two of you. You busied yourself at the night stand, acting like you were looking for something, and left Leon to have a quick look around the room.

“You can tell your husband is trying to apologise,” he commented. You turned around, furrowing your brow in confusion. Leon smiled at your expression, before gesturing to the room, “This is one of the nicest suites in the whole place. He’s obviously paid top-dollar for your stay; probably in a bid for you to forgive him.”

You shrugged, going back to busying yourself with other things, still not quite ready to bridge that gap. Wherever Jack was, you were facing the fact that you may have to go through with a lot of this plan all on your own, so you had to be prepared. Slowly, you headed over to the bathroom door, knowing in the back of your head that at least your weapons were neatly stored away in there - just in case.

“Maybe he is, but I can’t say that’s going to work,” you smiled flatly, then collected a handful of clothes. Nothing major, just a pair of shorts and a cover-all jacket; nothing that would rouse too much suspicion.

“Do you mind if I just slip into something more comfortable, for now? I’m rather cold now we’re not in the spa,” you said, your hand already on the bathroom door handle.

“Yeah, sure…just- you’ll be hot again soon, princess,” Leon smirked, sending a wink your way.

“I’m counting on it,” you said back, before dipping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you, and viscerally shuddering.

Ew. Ew. Ew!

You breathed slowly, then set to work on your plan. Putting on the shorts and cover-all, you got given a bit more covering than if you were still in your bikini. Not a lot, but enough to slip a few weapons under your belt in case things went awry. You couldn’t act too soon, you still needed the verbal or physical confirmation that Leon was indeed involved in narcotic distribution like you suspected. But it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

You couldn’t kill him, nor did you have the space on your body or within your clothing to be able to hide a weapon that would do that much damage. What there was room for though were small patches that you could slip into your bikini top, or shorts. They appeared like normal stickers, the kind you’d use if you were giving up smoking and needed a nicotine patch, that kind of thing. They were thin, discreet, and upon contact to the skin (once activated), they would deliver an electric shock. Not enough to kill, no. But certainly enough to stun.

You slipped a few of the patches in both your bikini top and short’s pocket. Other than your comms devices, there wasn’t really much else you had which could come in handy right now. Taking a deep breath in, you turned on your heels and headed back out the door.

Leon had already been rifling through the mini-bar in your room, and was pulling out bottles. The idea of any more alcohol after your early start today turned your stomach to churning, but with how enthusiastically he was pulling bottles out you weren’t sure you had a choice.

“Such a shame,” he began, “I had hoped there would be whiskey.” You laughed to yourself softly, before sitting on the edge of the bed and watching him.

“There was. My husband and I, we- we had an argument this morning. Unrelated to what happened at breakfast, ironically. Two fights in one day; can’t be good, can it?” you sighed. Leon turned to face you and gave you that same sympathetic smile he’d done earlier, before decanting some of the other liquors into the glasses. By the looks of it you were about to get one hell of a strong neat vodka - great.

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. Don’t beat yourself up,” he said, closing the gap across the room, two drinks in his hands. Your heart thudded again, and it felt like your heart was about to escape out of your chest. You tentatively took the drink from Leon as he sat next to you, noticeably closer this time than anything in the spa.

“No, I know,” you smiled, then lifted your glass, “Cheers!”.

“Cheers,” Leon replied, smiling sweetly as he downed the entire drink in one sip. You felt your eyes widen - you’d not seen anyone down a drink like that since Tequila lost a bet on the night you became a Statesman agent, almost three years ago now. You took a different approach, choosing to sip on the drink instead.

“Not a fan of that then?” Leon asked, noticing how you barely touched the alcohol. You shook your head.

“I’d prefer a cocktail, if I’m being honest. Another downside to this place,” you chuckled. Leon smiled at you, his eyes flitting from your own to your lips, then down to your chest. You wondered if he was trying to be subtle - if this were his idea of it, then he was failing miserably.

“I can go and get you something from the main bar, if you’d like?” he offered.

On the one hand it could be a good way to put a bit of space between you for a moment, buy you some more time before Jack arrived. But on the other hand, perhaps him leaving could be a mistake - what if he got word of who you were, what if he bumped into Jack and the jig was up before the dance could even begin? No, you were too close now to potentially lose this lead.

And then, like your own guardian angel, Ginger buzzed in. “T-minus 30 seconds for backup, Whiskey. Keep him talking”.

30 seconds. Okay, you could do that. Just 30 seconds…

It was reckless, probably stupid beyond belief, but if Jack was about to walk through that door you would at least be safe from harm. And if he was about to walk through, you bet your salary that you were going to give him something to be appalled about so you could keep up this whole charade. It might be the only way to eventually get this guy to open up, plus whatever his colleague had to say that Jack had already run into.

“No, thank you. I think everything I’ve got is right here-,” you cut off your own words as you crashed your lips into Leon’s, your hands planted on his chest again.

Leon gasped against your lips but kissed you back, his arms snaking around your waist almost immediately and pulling you onto his lap. You let him manhandle you, knowing that you didn’t have to put up with this for long. You tolerated the bitter taste of vodka on his lips, slipping your tongue across the seam before he eventually parted his mouth to give you access.

You took it, gently grinding on his lap as his hands wandered across the remaining bare flesh he could access. In his defence, this was definitely not the worst kiss you’d ever had in your life, and had the circumstances for your meeting been any different you might have actually been into it. But seducing a man who was potentially responsible for hundreds, if not thousands, of deaths was hardly the way to turn you on.

He grunted against your mouth as you kissed him deeper, just wanting to keep him here until Jack arrived. Any longer and you’d worry where those wandering hands might lead, and how far this could go before you’d either have to fully commit to this or worm your way out of it. Fortunately, your prayers were answered pretty swiftly.

You weren’t sure Leon even heard the sound of Jack fiddling with the lock on the other side of the door, but you certainly did. Your ears virtually pricked up at the sound, giving you a comfort knowing that you were about to be safe again. So you doubled down.

Your hands moved, now lacing themselves between Leon’s thick hair, tugging softly and drawing more inappropriate sounds from his lips. Keeping your eyes closed, you let your mind wander slightly, picturing what it would be like to go this far with Jack finally. How would he feel, how would he touch you - where would he touch you, also? It was enough to draw out your own sound of pleasure, something Leon definitely heard if his tightening grip and low grunt was anything to go by.

But then the voice of the man who you were busy fantasising about cut through the room, and you grinned as you broke your kiss with Leon. Finally, I’m safe.

“Melanie?!” Jack shrieked as he entered the room, another man in tow. You remained in Leon’s lap but turned your head to face Jack, your eyes lighting up as you caught his gaze. He looked utterly horrified, and for a moment you weren’t sure if it was just very good acting on his part, or if he genuinely thought the sight before him was abhorrent. Right now, it could go either way.

“Oh, my friend, it seems like your wife has already made this decision for you,” the other man said, nudging Jack with his elbow. You grinned, leaning your neck back to allow Leon to continue kissing your bare skin, but keeping your bodies flush enough that he couldn’t go much further south than your collarbone.

“Who’s your friend?” you asked, mocking both the other man’s words and Jack - slightly.

“I am Hector, my lady. Leon and I are colleagues. But it seems you two are already acquainted,” Hector chuckled, holding onto the lapels of his jacket as he laughed. You hated that more than you should, it up to now being an endearing thing you’d only ever seen Champ do. You wondered if for a moment these people had someone dug into your lives way more than anticipated and extrapolated everything you liked to try and sour it against you.

“Wait, that’s your associate?” Jack said. Hector chuckled, nodding. You turned to Leon, forcing him off you slightly.

“Leon, who is this man?” you asked, feigning innocence once again. He pulled back from your chest, eyes wide like a baby dear, and smiled wide.

“He’s my colleague,” he answered, then turned to Hector, “I found her, boss. She was right where you said she’d be.”

At that, you recoiled. Acting or not, you weren’t sure.

“What the fuck do you mean?” you asked, pulling your cover-all over you, as if the sheer material was going to cover anything of what laid beneath. Hector now approached you slowly, open arms, seemingly trustworthy.

“My lady, hey, shhh,” he hushed you, before bringing one arm around your shoulders, “It is nothing nefarious. I was just explaining to your good husband here, how Leon and I help people.”

“Help them how?” you asked.

“Leon,” Hector looked over at the younger man, disappointment painted on his face, “What have I told you about explaining our procedure fully to clients before spreading your legs, boy?”.

You admittedly had to laugh at that one. Even Jack looked somewhat amused. When Hector turned to look at you, eyebrow raised, you covered your mouth to stop further laughter escaping, and put on your best deceiving look.

“I’m sorry, Hector, I don’t mean to laugh. But in Leon’s defence, I didn’t really,” you coughed to clear your throat, acting as if you were slightly embarrassed by the whole ordeal, “I didn’t give him much time to explain, you see…”.

If Jack wasn’t seeing red already, he sure as hell was now. He glared at Leon, not missing the obvious strain across his crotch where you had been sitting just minutes earlier. A primal urge soured through him, and he wanted nothing more than to put this man six feet under for even daring to touch you.

“Oh-ho, my girl!” Hector laughed now, slapping you across the shoulders, “My friend, you have a good one here!” he said to Jack, who merely rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I know,” he grumbled, now looking at the floor, “So, are you going to tell her your plan, or not? I’m rather keen to get to the good part,” Jack said.

“Of course!” Hector unfurled his arms from you, and moved over to the small coffee table. He leant into his jacket pocket, and laid out small velvet bags on the table. You headed over slowly, Leon quickly approaching behind you, his hands never far from your body. In a brief moment where you and Jack could make eye contact, and not be interpreted by anyone else’s gaze, you gave him a very knowing look as he glanced at Leon’s wandering hands; the don’t you fucking dare, look.

“What’s all this?” you asked. Hector took a seat by the coffee table, pleased as punch with himself.

“As I was explaining to your husband here, Leon and I provide a…service. A way to bring couples back to one another. We have a lot of cases here where someone’s looking to settle the score, and fortunately for Leon and I it is often the women who need that,” he chuckled as Leon planted a kiss on your neck.

“Can we hurry it up?” Jack asked.

“So impatient this one,” Hector grinned, “Very well. The long and short of our scheme is, Leon here will help you settle the score with your husband physically. And then the two of you can reconnect spiritually, with the help of one of my little friends here,” he explained, motioning to the velvet bags.

“What’s inside them?” you asked, your pulse racing. You were so close to getting the confirmation you needed.

“Whatever you like,” he opened one of the bags, emptying it onto the coffee table, “We’ve got opioids, methamphetamines, ecstasy…you name it, we can get it. And we promise you’ll leave this trip back in each other’s arms, happier than ever”.

A myriad of small pills laid out before both you and Jack. You had to blink a few times just to make sure you weren’t dreaming this whole thing up, that it wasn’t too good to be true and you had literally just been handed the answers to everything out on a plate.

Even though these guys were clearly independent contractors, and not part of something as widespread as The Golden Circle operation ever was, they at the very least had enough of a ponzi scheme in place that you could justifiably bring them in and question them. Find out who their supplier is, how many people they had targeted, was this part of a much wider operation? It might not be all the answers, but fuck this could be the start of a lot of them.

“Oh my,” you gawked, “And you really don’t want anything for it?” you asked. Jack shook his head.

“Sugar, I already offered. But Hector insisted. If…if you wanna settle the score, I’d understand, and I’ll go right out this door now. And then, my love,” Jack reached forward and grasped your hands, his eyes so soft and pleading you were starting to lose track of where reality and acting blurred, “we can come back together. As one,” he smiled.

“That sure does sound appealing…but is that what you want, my love?” you asked.

Ginger buzzed in through both your ears, taking advantage of a moment where the two of you were locked in on each other. “We have a confirmed visual, and we’ve managed to get a match on facial recognition for both men. Reel it in, agents”.

Relief washed over you. All you had to do now was to get out of this situation. Fortunately, you’d prepared.

“And, by the way, I think we need a code word for if we need to disengage from our roles,” Jack had mentioned to you on the drive over here yesterday.

“Jack you’re not asking me for a ‘safe word’, are you?” you’d teased, laughing to yourself and earning an eye roll from Jack. You could tell he wanted to laugh along, and was trying his hardest not to.

“Sure, if that’s what you wanna call it,” he playfully swatted your thigh as he held back laughter, “But I’m serious. A word, phrase, nickname, whatever. Something we can use which signals that we’re ready to break cover, and potentially let things get a little ugly”.

“So the opposite of a sleeper agent’s switch-on code?” you asked.

“Basically, yeah. You got anything? It’s got to be something we wouldn’t normally say,” he said.

“This really is sounding like a safe word now,” you sniggered, earning another swat on your thigh.

“Whiskey, behave,” Jack jokingly scolded.

“Okay, okay,” you bit your lip as you thought. Suddenly every word you thought of felt like it could be something that would feasibly come into conversation, and nothing sat long enough to make any sense why you’d throw that word into regular dialogue. Everything sounded wrong.

But then the truck rolled past an orchard, and a lightbulb went off in your head.

“Call me peach,” you said, “Like as a term of endearment.”

“Peach, huh? Like instead of sugar, or darlin’?” he asked, clarifying.

“Yeah. Peach.”

“Alright. Peach it is,” Jack grinned.

“Peach, is that what you want?” Jack asked.

There it was. Peach. You grinned at him, steadying your ground, ready to launch into whatever bullshit was about to come your way. But, with Ginger’s help, you didn’t see it being that bad…

“You bet your ass it is,” you chuckled, and at that confirmation, you both broke face.

Jack moved towards Hector, knocking the man back into his seat with a blow to the face, enough to make him recoil and drop the velvet bags he was still holding. You didn’t need all of them salvaged, just enough to take back for testing.

As soon as Jack moved, you wriggled free from Leon, dropping yourself to your knees in one go to distribute your body weight so fast he couldn’t grip tight enough to hold on. Rolling away quickly, you spoke out loud to Ginger now for the first time since this mission started.

“Activate; now!” you said.

All three men turned to look at you, confusion evident. But then a jolt of electricity ran through Leon, starting from his neck and traveling down his body. His limbs went limp and he collapsed to the ground, and as he rolled onto his front, it revealed what you’d snuck onto his skin.

One of the patches.

In the heat of the kissing before Jack arrived, you’ve already slid one of the patches on, using your fingers tugging in his hair as the perfect distraction. All you’d need to activate it was Ginger on the other end, with her proverbial big red button. You grinned to yourself as you restrained Leon by his hands on his back, using a zip tie for the meantime - not that he was going to be conscious enough to notice for a while then.

“Good job Whiskey,” Jack said, now tying Hector up himself. The one blow to the face had been enough to knock him dizzy, and Jack had been able to maneuver him in that time to incapacitate him.

“You too, Seltzer,” you grinned, then opened up your comms link again, “Ginger, do you copy? We have both suspects in custody. Send backup immediately to transport back to base.”

“Copy that, Whiskey. Good job, guys”.

What a fucking week this was turning out to be…

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