Fanfic meme challenge met!
Here's the complete ficlet in response to ladyslvr's challenge. Enjoy!
Title: "Seeing Is Believing"
Fandoms: Jake 2.0 and Invisible Man
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Characters belong to UPN, Sci-Fi Channel, etc. I just borrowed 'em.
Words: Way more than 500 (over 5,000...)
Jake tried his best to seem calm and relaxed as he strode down the linoleum-tiled corridor. His NSA security badge swung gently from the lanyard around his neck, brushing against his button-down shirt with each step. To Jake's nanite-enhanced hearing the rustling nearly drowned the catlike footfalls of his pursuer. Not that he had a clue who the pursuer was.
Tucking the badge into the breast pocket of his shirt eliminated the unwanted noise. The soft, deliberate footsteps sounded close -- about 30 feet behind him. Jake could just make out the person's breathing and heartbeat. Both were slow and even. His pursuer was unworried, confident in his or her concealment. Jake wasn't surprised. The few convex security mirrors he'd passed showed absolutely no one behind him.
I can't let this guy get any closer to the diplomat we're guarding, Jake thought as he rounded a corner. A few feet ahead on the left a red-lettered exit sign pointed to a doorway marked "STAIRS." Jake strode to the door, pushed it open, then quietly moved back to the corner as the door swung shut.
The intruder’s footsteps had paused when Jake opened the door. They soon resumed their deliberate pace. Jake balled his left hand into a fist as he listened to his pursuer's approach. When person's heartbeat and breathing suddenly grew louder, Jake threw his fist forward. Then he gasped.
Clothing, rock-hard abs, or even body armor wouldn’t have surprised Jake. The clammy, viscous, and invisible fluid with which his fist connected did. He gaped at his partially invisible hand, barely noticing the intruder's groan. Then things really went pear-shaped.
The goo that Jake felt clinging to his hand suddenly became visible. For an instant his fingers seemed coated with liquid mirror. Then the silvery fluid crystallized and showered to the floor in thousands of tiny shards.
A more primal part of Jake's brain wrenched his eyes away from his seemingly uninjured hand. A lanky, light-skinned man knelt doubled-over, clutching his stomach. Bits of the mercury-like substance rained from him, too, tinkling to the ground before evaporating. Aside from the fact that the man had been invisible moments earlier, the intruder's attire caught Jake off guard. A bold paisley pattern covered the man's polyester, butterfly-collared shirt. The cuffs of his well-worn jeans flared over a pair of Converses. It was like he'd stepped out of a vintage clothing store, not a SWAT supply room. As if to confirm that Jake hadn't teleported to the 70's, the man's short sandy hair was gelled into standing straight up.
Still gasping for breath, the unlikely spy looked up at Jake. The movement reminded Jake that this intruder, who most likely had more bizarre tricks up his polyester sleeve, was far from apprehended. Jake fumbled his 9mm pistol from his shoulder holster and aimed it at the man. "Hands behind your head," Jake ordered.
The intruder complied, muttering "Oh, crap," under his breath.
Jake studied the formerly invisible man for a moment. The interloper couldn’t be more than a few years older than Jake himself. Not that that makes any difference. "Now stand up. Slowly."
Again the man obeyed, eying him warily. As Jake reached for his cell phone, the man frowned. "C'mon, there’s no need to drag anyone else into this," he drawled. "Show me to the nearest exit and I'll be on my way." Jake scowled, bewildered by the man’s audacity. "In fact, I could just leave the way I came in-"
"Shut up!" Jake snapped. Mercifully, the retro spy listened. Keeping his pistol trained on the interloper, Jake retrieved his cell phone with his free hand and speed-dialed Kyle. The intruder grimaced.
The phone's tinny ringing seemed to echo as Jake put the compact phone to his ear. Then he realized that the echo was coming from down the hall. More bewildered than ever, Jake circled around his captive to look around the corner into the hallway.
"Dammit, Fawkes! Are you down here?" a male, Brooklyn-accented voice shouted from the far end of the hall. Jake sincerely hoped that this newcomer wasn't invisible, too.
The spy's face lit up. "Yeah, Bobby. A little help here!" Fawkes yelled back.
Kyle's digitized voice sounded from Jake's cell phone. "Duarte."
Jake sighed with relief. "We've, um, got a situation," Jake began as he peered down the hallway. Kyle, cell phone in hand, strode toward him with a short, balding white man in tow.
"I know," was Kyle's unamused reply before ending the call. As he and the Brooklynite crossed the remaining few feet, Kyle motioned for Jake to lower his gun.
Although puzzled, Jake returned his gun to its holster. With an exaggerated sigh Fawkes dropped his arms to his sides and stepped around the corner. Jake looked from him, to the bald guy, then to Kyle.
The short-statured newcomer strode up to Jake with his hand extended. "Bobby Hobbes, Department of Fish and Game," he grinned.
Jake took the man's hand uncertainly. "Jake Foley." He glanced at the sometimes visible spy before continuing. "Did you say 'Fish and Game'?" Hobbes nodded.
"Careful," Fawkes interjected, motioning at Jake. "He's stronger than he looks."
Jake turned to Kyle, hoping that he’d shed some light on this insanity. "Apparently there's been a major miscommunication," Kyle explained. He divided his stern gaze between Hobbes and Fawkes. "Mr. Hobbes and his associate will be leaving now."
"Absolutely," Hobbes agreed. He shot an irritated glance at Fawkes. "Shall we?"
Fawkes frowned at the short man, then turned to Jake. "Sorry. My bad." He strode over to Hobbes, adding over his shoulder, "Have a nice day." The two unceremoniously headed back the way they came.
Kyle frowned at the pair’s retreating backs. "I'll see them out," Kyle grumbled, then hurried after them.
Jake stared after them for a few moments, pondering who he should tell about Fawkes's liquid mirror invisibility goo. More like who would believe me. Then his nanite-enhanced hearing picked up a bit of the Fish and Game duo's hushed conversation.
"I told you your plan didn't make any sense," Fawkes whispered.
Hobbes sniffed indignantly. "It woulda made sense if you'd paid attention!"
Shaking his head, Jake set off in search of Diane.
Title: "Seeing Is Believing"
Fandoms: Jake 2.0 and Invisible Man
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Characters belong to UPN, Sci-Fi Channel, etc. I just borrowed 'em.
Words: Way more than 500 (over 5,000...)
Jake tried his best to seem calm and relaxed as he strode down the linoleum-tiled corridor. His NSA security badge swung gently from the lanyard around his neck, brushing against his button-down shirt with each step. To Jake's nanite-enhanced hearing the rustling nearly drowned the catlike footfalls of his pursuer. Not that he had a clue who the pursuer was.
Tucking the badge into the breast pocket of his shirt eliminated the unwanted noise. The soft, deliberate footsteps sounded close -- about 30 feet behind him. Jake could just make out the person's breathing and heartbeat. Both were slow and even. His pursuer was unworried, confident in his or her concealment. Jake wasn't surprised. The few convex security mirrors he'd passed showed absolutely no one behind him.
I can't let this guy get any closer to the diplomat we're guarding, Jake thought as he rounded a corner. A few feet ahead on the left a red-lettered exit sign pointed to a doorway marked "STAIRS." Jake strode to the door, pushed it open, then quietly moved back to the corner as the door swung shut.
The intruder’s footsteps had paused when Jake opened the door. They soon resumed their deliberate pace. Jake balled his left hand into a fist as he listened to his pursuer's approach. When person's heartbeat and breathing suddenly grew louder, Jake threw his fist forward. Then he gasped.
Clothing, rock-hard abs, or even body armor wouldn’t have surprised Jake. The clammy, viscous, and invisible fluid with which his fist connected did. He gaped at his partially invisible hand, barely noticing the intruder's groan. Then things really went pear-shaped.
The goo that Jake felt clinging to his hand suddenly became visible. For an instant his fingers seemed coated with liquid mirror. Then the silvery fluid crystallized and showered to the floor in thousands of tiny shards.
A more primal part of Jake's brain wrenched his eyes away from his seemingly uninjured hand. A lanky, light-skinned man knelt doubled-over, clutching his stomach. Bits of the mercury-like substance rained from him, too, tinkling to the ground before evaporating. Aside from the fact that the man had been invisible moments earlier, the intruder's attire caught Jake off guard. A bold paisley pattern covered the man's polyester, butterfly-collared shirt. The cuffs of his well-worn jeans flared over a pair of Converses. It was like he'd stepped out of a vintage clothing store, not a SWAT supply room. As if to confirm that Jake hadn't teleported to the 70's, the man's short sandy hair was gelled into standing straight up.
Still gasping for breath, the unlikely spy looked up at Jake. The movement reminded Jake that this intruder, who most likely had more bizarre tricks up his polyester sleeve, was far from apprehended. Jake fumbled his 9mm pistol from his shoulder holster and aimed it at the man. "Hands behind your head," Jake ordered.
The intruder complied, muttering "Oh, crap," under his breath.
Jake studied the formerly invisible man for a moment. The interloper couldn’t be more than a few years older than Jake himself. Not that that makes any difference. "Now stand up. Slowly."
Again the man obeyed, eying him warily. As Jake reached for his cell phone, the man frowned. "C'mon, there’s no need to drag anyone else into this," he drawled. "Show me to the nearest exit and I'll be on my way." Jake scowled, bewildered by the man’s audacity. "In fact, I could just leave the way I came in-"
"Shut up!" Jake snapped. Mercifully, the retro spy listened. Keeping his pistol trained on the interloper, Jake retrieved his cell phone with his free hand and speed-dialed Kyle. The intruder grimaced.
The phone's tinny ringing seemed to echo as Jake put the compact phone to his ear. Then he realized that the echo was coming from down the hall. More bewildered than ever, Jake circled around his captive to look around the corner into the hallway.
"Dammit, Fawkes! Are you down here?" a male, Brooklyn-accented voice shouted from the far end of the hall. Jake sincerely hoped that this newcomer wasn't invisible, too.
The spy's face lit up. "Yeah, Bobby. A little help here!" Fawkes yelled back.
Kyle's digitized voice sounded from Jake's cell phone. "Duarte."
Jake sighed with relief. "We've, um, got a situation," Jake began as he peered down the hallway. Kyle, cell phone in hand, strode toward him with a short, balding white man in tow.
"I know," was Kyle's unamused reply before ending the call. As he and the Brooklynite crossed the remaining few feet, Kyle motioned for Jake to lower his gun.
Although puzzled, Jake returned his gun to its holster. With an exaggerated sigh Fawkes dropped his arms to his sides and stepped around the corner. Jake looked from him, to the bald guy, then to Kyle.
The short-statured newcomer strode up to Jake with his hand extended. "Bobby Hobbes, Department of Fish and Game," he grinned.
Jake took the man's hand uncertainly. "Jake Foley." He glanced at the sometimes visible spy before continuing. "Did you say 'Fish and Game'?" Hobbes nodded.
"Careful," Fawkes interjected, motioning at Jake. "He's stronger than he looks."
Jake turned to Kyle, hoping that he’d shed some light on this insanity. "Apparently there's been a major miscommunication," Kyle explained. He divided his stern gaze between Hobbes and Fawkes. "Mr. Hobbes and his associate will be leaving now."
"Absolutely," Hobbes agreed. He shot an irritated glance at Fawkes. "Shall we?"
Fawkes frowned at the short man, then turned to Jake. "Sorry. My bad." He strode over to Hobbes, adding over his shoulder, "Have a nice day." The two unceremoniously headed back the way they came.
Kyle frowned at the pair’s retreating backs. "I'll see them out," Kyle grumbled, then hurried after them.
Jake stared after them for a few moments, pondering who he should tell about Fawkes's liquid mirror invisibility goo. More like who would believe me. Then his nanite-enhanced hearing picked up a bit of the Fish and Game duo's hushed conversation.
"I told you your plan didn't make any sense," Fawkes whispered.
Hobbes sniffed indignantly. "It woulda made sense if you'd paid attention!"
Shaking his head, Jake set off in search of Diane.