openmisc | Exercises in Romantic Tension

Exercises in Romantic Tension

The job was supposed to be simple. A popular, up-and-coming app company in Massachusetts had stumbled onto a bit of technology that might threaten Goddard and their CEO had, so far, been resistant to softer negotiations. It's easy to think you're invincible when you develop an app at seventeen and skyrocket into popularity and money and easy retirement by twenty five, apparently.

Enter Kepler's team. Maxwell, down with the flu, would provide remote support to Kepler and Jacobi. Jacobi had told her that it was fine, this was more of a 'manly type' job anyway, which, of course prompted her to ask, if that was the case, why Jacobi was there.

Score one for Maxwell.

Playing Candy Crush on his phone in the passenger seat, one foot pulled up, Jacobi yawns. "How much longer?" he groans, glancing at the afternoon sun out the window. It's not warm enough to penetrate the cold winter day, and Jacobi reaches over to turn up the heat. "Can we stop for coffee? I haven't had Dunks in forever. Since the last time we were on this coast."

He sucks air through his teeth, failing his level. So much for that.

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Jacobi just stares at it and then stares at him. Oh you're kidding me he screams with every bit of nonverbal language he has. But he just sighs and gets out of the car, grabbing his bags from the back, slinging the backpack over one shoulder and the duffel bag over the other before he turns to wait on Kepler.

"One day. One day I'll get to be the guy who stays at the Hilton."

"Noted for future assignments," and he does mean that, and Jacobi would know that he meant that. But Kepler can't help that he's delighted by the low-tier delights they had in store for them.

Except, perhaps, for when they get in and discover-

"...I definitely booked two beds."

He steps around him, like he might be able to properly see another bed suddenly manifest in front of them. Oh wonderful.

But -

He laughs. Because what else can he do? Of course the universe continues to hate him.

"At least it's not Berlin, Sir," he points out, setting his bags on one of the chairs. He takes out his laptop and starts to set up shop automatically.

That cracks a smile on his face as he turns to Jacobi.

"That it is not, Mister Jacobi, that it is not."

And he'll start walking in with his own things, pulling out the luggage stand, putting his bag on the stand and opening up to start setting up his own section. Most of what he has is a collection of suits, some spy gear (effectively) and his own laptop.

"You have Maxwell up?"

"Forty two seconds, sir," he tells him, glancing back over his shoulder, mentally filing away which suits he brought. Mostly because it lets him know the sort of confidence level he should have and because, well, imagination is a hell of a thing.

"She's doing her security checks."

Once she's there, he sits back and gestures to the laptop. "Dr. Sneeze Queen is ready if you want her."

"She still hasn't stopped?" he asks with something between a laugh and an incredulous headshake. There's what someone could read as sympathy in there, but there's also a healthy bit of amusement. Maxwell is usually so deliberate.

They have seen Kepler sick exactly once that wasn't mission based. The mission-based one was a viral agent that his suit got contaminated with that nearly killed him and no laughing matter. The flu, however, had been an ordeal of watching a man nearly pass out while wearing a medical mask and seemingly pretending that he wasn't sick.

He'd still finished all his paperwork that week!

"Yes sir I have," comes a stuffed up voice from the computer and Jacobi shakes his head, moving out of the way of the laptop camera with a very epic eyeroll. She definitely can't tell from there. Definitely can't. He's rather secure in that fact! At least until she adds: "I can see you, Daniel."

He glances around, a little paranoid, until he glances out the window and draws the curtains. Just in case.

She goes over the minutia of the changes that had occurred while they were driving, sending over an updated blueprint of the server room for Jacobi, which he downloads to his phone.

Warren has to wonder when, exactly, Daniel will figure out that Maxwell doesn't have to see him because he's extremely predictable. At least in certain respects. It would be nice to just focus on the two of them making his heart feel warm and heavy but there's a mission to get ready for, so he'll listen to the information, check his own phone for the new blueprint, and let Maxwell know that her contribution is greatly appreciated.

"Have you taken your medication today, Maxwell?"

Because he'll bet she hasn't.

The answer to that question is never because Daniel likes to think of himself as unpredictable. But there's no time to think about that because he's about to witness his favorite thing in the whole wide world.

Maxwell getting in trouble instead of him.

He leans forward.

"I'll go do that now! Signing off, sir!" she chirps and the video feed drops.

He'll get to see Kepler's face settle into Distinctly Unimpressed Face when Maxwell flees but he breathes in deep and turns his attention to Jacobi as his expression softens.

"Well," he says like a whole sentence, "let's get started going through what she sent. First one finished gets to start the coffee pot."

"Traitor," he mutters of Maxwell and takes out his phone to text her exactly that. But Kepler gives him some good incentive, considering that he makes it much stronger than Jacobi. The younger man always ends up drowning it in creamer.

"Already on it, boss," he tells him, kicking his feet up onto the deck and leaning back, pulling his laptop close to parse through what was sent to him.

But after a while, he starts looking worried, chewing on his thumbnail.

Kepler can read through a report with a speed that is somewhat startling, and the worst part is that he can do it without losing his situational awareness. That's why his eyes might flicker up but never away from the paper and in a moment so silent it almost seems untouchable-

"What is it, Mister Jacobi?"

"It's nothing," he says, though Kepler will definitely hear the "Jacobi is worried" tone. "I can handle it. But - this isn't the blueprint I was given. They must have switched things around since the last time I'd looked over it."

"Switched things around how?"

Because he doesn't doubt Jacobi or Maxwell, and a change this major might speak to a leak somewhere, or some sort of worry that they hadn't counted on. Intel they didn't have was always a problem.

"There's supposed to be a window here. Looks like it was broken somehow," he says, trying to piece together the story from the clues in the briefing that he has. Maxwell is so good with raw data, but Jacobi's trying to read between those lines.

"And - so it's closed off. Must have caused some damage to the room itself because they've cleared it out and moved everything over."

He starts scanning through the file himself and he's making irritated noises, grumbling unhappily. Hmph'ing in irritation. Sighing tiredly.

"I think... Henderson might be trying something here."

They'd dealt with other teams, and one of the more consistent thorns in their side, Henderson Technology Conglomerate-

He can smell the stink of them all over this.

Jacobi makes a face at that.

"This is a lot more complicated than we were told it was going to be," he mutters, rubbing tired eyes. He doesn't know how long it's been, how long he's been looking at the computer, but he glances up at the ceiling to give himself a break from the unnatural glow.

"That is why I took this mission personally," he says with grim determination. "SI-5. Best of the best. This? Is what we do, Jacobi."

A knowing grin.

"This is what we do."

He meets his look blandly. "Yes sir," he deadpans and stifles a yawn, pulling his feet up in the chair with him.

"Best of the best. All that." He waves a hand at him and spins in the chair before pulling up to the desk again with his laptop. He is not looking forward to retooling his entire plan for this. He really isn't. If only there was a convenient distraction. Some way he could procrastinate for a few -

"Snacks!" he says aloud, jumping to his feet.

There's a very flat look before he rolls his eyes and nods. He'll watch Jacobi go. And enjoy watching Jacobi go.

He digs out some cash from his wallet, instinctively touches the holster hidden under his jeans, and waltzes out.

When he comes back, it's with a successful pocketful and he tosses a bag towards Kepler. "Look what I found. Haven't seen those in a while," he says gleefully.

There's not much that cheers him more than good snacks.

Kepler will catch the bag and despite his usual dour mood at an interruption in planning, will quite happily realize-

"You found the truffle ones!"

Because he did, and it's delicious.

"Damn right, Boss," he laughs and his delight is real as he sits back down in his chair. He knew he'd have to go back to work eventually, but it's better now that he has pretzels.

"Okay, so this isn't a disaster. We can figure it out."

"I have never seen a disaster? This team couldn't manage," he says as he looks over his own notes, as well as his copy of the schematics. He hasn't stopped looking, after all. "Besides. At least we got the changes?

"Before you were in there."

"Yeah," he yawns, leaning his head back on the chair as he pulls his feet up. Between the car trip and now whatever the hell time it is, he knows he's getting tired. But he wants to pull through. He has to.

Just a few seconds, he tells himself. He just needs to close his eyes for a few seconds and then he can focus again.

"I mean. It could be worse. It's not like -- "

Boy does it feel good to close his eyes.

Just for a few seconds though.

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