just_1_word | 28.6. Territorial
28.6. Territorial
Co-written with isabelowens & agentfraser
[Follows THIS and THIS]
Marc bounded up the stairs of the private jet and threw his briefcase down on the floor so he could flop into one of the seats lining the walls. He smirked at Izzy sitting across from him, noting that she looked slightly dumbfounded. Once she had asked for help, Marc had done everything in his power to plot a way to get her to England the evening following her kismet lay's accident. It hadn't really taken much for him to come up with a plan of action, but the jet was vital. They needed to discuss the situation in transit, so the jet was the best solution, and quicker without needing to fuck around in public airports. Conveniently, Marc's Zurich trip was cancelled because the guy he was tailing disappeared. No doubt the arsehole would show up in Buenos Aires next week or something. Better that than Zurich. All he had told Izzy was to meet him in this flight hangar at this private airport dressed in a business suit with her old FBI ID. She would have boarded the plane just before he got here and now Alex followed him onto the plane and pulled the door closed behind them, locking the vacuum security latch.
Alex threw his lab coat and own briefcase onto one of the spare seats and pushed his dark sunglasses up onto his head. He was unshaven with dark circles under his eyes. Fucking Marc getting him up after a single hour of post-nightshift sleep following a hard shift and six nights straight without a day off. He pulled the window blind down and stifled a yawn as he slunk into the closest seat. "I need a fucking Red Bull, pronto, dipstick," he all but growled in Marc's direction and flipped him off just for emphasis.
Izzy's eyes narrowed at Alex. She didn't like him already, and not just because he was Campbell's new partner. She raised an eyebrow at James, waiting to see if he would get the Red Bull for the other dipstick. "I'm Isabel Owens, it's not a pleasure to meet you, jackass," she said to Alex with a smile that clearly conveyed she would kill him later. She didn't bother holding out her hand, keeping them securely in her lap. For all she knew he was pleasant after some sleep, but right now she didn't like him.
Alex just folded his arms across his chest and slumped further down in his seat, pulling his glasses back over his eyes. Body language really was everything. He was cranky, but he didn't get why the bitch had automatically decided to hate his guts without even knowing him. He hadn't done anything but totally cooperate with Marc's requests for her benefit. And this is how she thanked him? Alex could handle the yummy mummy with a chip on her shoulder and colourful vocabulary from Marc's past, but who the hell was this chick? "Here's hoping my jackass nature doesn't make me forget my knowledge of sports medicine on route," was all he said and then looked away from them both.
Marc stood up and went to the bar at the back of the plane. There was no attendant on this flight, so they'd have to help themselves. He got the six pack of Red Bull out and brought it over, dropping it into Alex's lap. Alex was a sharp-shooter like he was, though, and his lightening quick reflexes caught it before it castrated him. Marc took his seat again with a shake of his head. "No bloodshed in the jet, you two. No way will we pull this off if you're bitching at each other. The bloke already has security monitoring his hospital room. Iz, this is Alex. Let's just leave it at that for now."
"I'm much prettier than him," she said to Campbell as she got up to get herself something that wasn't Red Bull. She never did well with energy drinks. "I can't believe he's my replacement. I guess if you're trading up though, might as well get a doctor." When she came back over with her cup of coffee she gave Alex a grudging smile that didn't tell him he was going to die soon. "Thank you for coming. Sorry Marc had to dig you out of bed. I do appreciate it..."
She raised her eyebrows at James as if to ask if that was better. When she stretched her legs out, her feet resting on Campbell, the gesture showing she was comfortable with him. Even after all this time, she did things without even thinking about it. "Do you get to take the jet anywhere, or is it a business perk?"
Alex downed one Red Bull in one go, then snapped open the second. "I'm not your replacement. I've never been in the FBI, technically. But if you want to play mine's bigger than your's the whole flight to England, give me a heads up so I can plan my tactics," he joked. He waved his hand a little. "Don't mention it. I owe him one, anyway."
Marc smirked at Alex. "Yeah, a fucking big one. You scarred my goddamn driver for life. He's a gay hairdresser by day, you know." He shook his head and settled into the seat. "He isn't your replacement, Iz. He and I aren't field partners like you and I were. We hardly work together on anything but case briefings. He's investigating a whole separate string than I am. There was a drug-related shooting in Princeton back in 2007. That's Alex's foundation. Mine is more government oriented. We have the jet when it won't blow our cover. Mostly it's United Airlines, First Class." He looked at her in amusement, noting her outfit. "You miss it, it don't you?"
"I'd be careful about whipping your dick out. He swings both ways in real life. For all we know, your cock will be the one to make him stop and reconsider his currently straight life," Izzy teased as she started to laugh. "We could always have a threesome on the way to England. I'm sure that would help pass the time."
"What'd he do to your driver?" Isabel asked curiously. "No wonder you're going fucking insane. Tell me you at least call him and bitch about what's going on, since he's the one person you can. And Alex, you ever fuck with him, and I will kill you. Drug-related how? Or should I ignore anything you tell me?" Iz looked down at her clothes and frowned. "What makes you think that?"
Alex drew his legs up and rested his arms across his knees. He needed to keep moving if he wanted to stay awake. At some point he would need to shower and shave in the jet's bathroom to make himself halfway presentable. He yawned and plucked the footballer's faxed medical records from his pocket. He had to read those too. "How do you know we haven't already whipped our dicks out for each other?" he asked, smirking tiredly. "Good Ol' Marcus Fraser has probably already had a threesome with us in the past. You have nothing to worry about with him. He'd take me down in a heartbeat if I fucked him over. In and out of the Service, he has quite the rep."
"He fucked Harri's friend in my car in front of my driver. You can't pull the innocent paediatrician act off with me, Teddy," Marc mocked with a snigger. He reached over and took the copies off Alex to see what they were dealing with. "A doctor got shot in the carpark by a chick who is a known link to some intense drug rings. The victim was totally innocent, but we need to cover all angles. Coincidentally, the guy's best friend got attacked in the ER by another drug pusher, so there can be threads in anything. Alex is posted to Princeton because the case is far from over." He gestured to her with the sheets. "I know you," he said pointedly. "Better than you know yourself sometimes. You can't just walk away from it. I should know that as well as anyone."
"I bet he does," Izzy murmured as she turned to glance out the jet's window. "I know you haven't whipped your dicks out because he told me there's been no cock. Which means that there's no point trying to play this game with me."
"Ah, well, yes, that would be traumatising to a gay hairdressing driver. Does everyone you're related to have double lives?" Isabel's eyebrows went up. "Really? That's pretty coincidental. But then if it's a hospital surely drug things aren't unusual. Sometimes a coincidence really is just a coincidence. Remember that case we had nearly two years back? We thought the neighbours were involved, but it turned out that the guy really was just a victim of some other douche trying scam money. It's rare, but coincidences do happen." Her green eyes flashed as she held Campbell's gaze. "I didn't have much choice. Walking away was better than trying to be there without you. Maybe I do miss it, but there's no point going back... not yet."
Alex snorted. "You're the one playing the games. I just wanted to get you off my back," he told her, finishing off his second Red Bull and resting his head tiredly back against the seat.
"Technically," Marc said, even if it wasn't much help. "Alex didn't actually have to give up his other life for his job. He just has a permanent undercover persona, but he moves back and forth between his two lives. Right now, he's undercover. My job was on a different scale. I'm technically Alex's boss, as much as he hates that. Sure, coincidences do happen, but the shooting victim was nearly murdered. Actually, the shooter was aiming for the girlfriend at the time and the guy jumped in front of her to save her life. The best friend was actually linked to the victim here in Princeton and in Edinburgh, Scotland, where we have intel suggesting a large ring connected to police corruption. We can't discount anything as coincidence."
He stopped and raised an eyebrow at her. "Why not? Why is there no point?"
Izzy blew him a kiss and winked. "And here I was thinking this was just foreplay. Consider me off your back, Alex."
She blinked as she took in everything James was saying, something tugging at the back of her mind, but not quite coming to the forefront. She just nodded in understanding. "Sure, of course. Why not? Because there's something I need to do first. And no, I'm not telling you."
Marc smirked. "Just ignore him. He's a bastard when he's lacking sleep and I dragged him off after one hour sleep. He's just put in six straight nights. Get some sleep, Alex. I'll fill her in. I'll wake you about an hour out of Liverpool."
Alex flipped Marc off again, closing his eyes. "Yeah, I bet you'll fill her in," he mumbled, but was already curling up on his side and hugging his arms around himself.
When she said she wasn't telling him whatever it was, Marc scowled a little. "Arse pain," he murmured, folding open the first page of the medical notes. "This is where you realise how convenient it is to know a member of the SS. Cameron Michael Preston." He glanced up at her, eyebrow raised. "Michael. Talk about weird-arsed coincidence. Anyway, the name is familiar, but I watched English football when I was over here, so it doesn't surprise me. Twenty nine years old, birthday December twelve. Lives in Liverpool with a secondary address in London, Docklands. The boy's got money."
Iz only blushed slightly at the filling in comment, but she managed not to look like she'd even considered the option. She sat and listened to the details before she tilted her head. "Isn't this stuff he should tell me himself? My kismet lay isn't a case... even if we're apparently conducting a secret mission to get me in to see him. And the Michael thing we can ignore. He's fucking toast. So's Laura. I haven't spoken to either since that night. I don't care about the money. Or the football. Even if he does look incredibly hot in the uniform. Fantastic ass."
"You need to know details if you're supposed to be Alex's assistant. You'd know things like full name and date of birth. You don't know who is going to get nosey and start asking questions," Marc reasoned and turned to the triage sheet. He skimmed over the details. "Poor bastard. Concussion, dislocated shoulder and fractured left patella. Guy had emergency surgery to repair the knee. How well did you get to know him, because chances are he will be drugged up to the eyeballs when we get there."
"Oh, right.. of course." Iz brushed her fingers against her forehead and looked at James. "One night turned into three, and involved plenty of deep and meaningfuls. Except he doesn't know much about you. You're just an ex that came back into my life."
Marc nodded. "Good. Because he's not meeting me. He's meeting Dr Peter Davidson, Assistant Professor of Sports Medicine at Columbia University." He pulled out the fake university ID and held it up to Izzy with a smirk. "Don't worry. We'll sort it. And at risk of sounding like a jealous ex, I have to ask, are you seriously thinking about pursuing something with him or is this just worry over someone you feel affection towards because you fucked him the day he hurt himself?"
Iz crossed her legs over and folded her hands in her lap like she was in an interview. "Well, Dr Davidson, at the risk of sounding like a jilted ex, I would start by saying fuck off. Then clarify that yes, it is because I am seriously considering something. I didn't even consider the fact I had been fucking him hours before. It's not like that. If it was that, I would just be sitting at home feeling a bit sad before moving on with my life."
Marc held his finger up. "I wasn't asking as a jealous ex. I was asking as a best friend. I don't want you hurt," he told her quietly, glancing at Alex to make sure his partner was asleep. He was definitely out for the count, one arm hanging loosely over the side of the arm rest, so Marc leaned forward. "This is a lot of chaos and planning for just a one nighter. That's why I was asking. I just wanted to hear it out of your mouth."
Her eyes studied his face for a long moment before her posture relaxed. "It wasn't one night... that's the whole point. It should have just been one night, but it wasn't. We spent just about the whole time he was here together. I drove him to the fucking airport! He made me feel something I hadn't felt for a long time, so yeah... I want to try and hang onto that, but isn't that what relationships are supposed to be about? Not that we're in one, but it's how they start... Or could start."
Marc nodded slowly and then held up the records. "This could complicate things. I think if we get there and he's off his face, you should try and talk to his brother. Otherwise, you're really just going to be another face in the crowd. The guy needs to know he's more than a fling, and I think his brother might be the key."
Isabel gave a return nod before she turned to look out the window. It was strange having Campbell here while she was trying to sort things out with her kismet lay. Then again, maybe it was how it should be. They weren't together, and the more they realised that, the better. It was easier for her to keep thinking of him as her best friend if they kept doing normal things. Like breaking into a hospital was all that normal. "Okay... I'll talk to the brother."
All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 2,689
Co-written with isabelowens & agentfraser
[Follows THIS and THIS]
Marc bounded up the stairs of the private jet and threw his briefcase down on the floor so he could flop into one of the seats lining the walls. He smirked at Izzy sitting across from him, noting that she looked slightly dumbfounded. Once she had asked for help, Marc had done everything in his power to plot a way to get her to England the evening following her kismet lay's accident. It hadn't really taken much for him to come up with a plan of action, but the jet was vital. They needed to discuss the situation in transit, so the jet was the best solution, and quicker without needing to fuck around in public airports. Conveniently, Marc's Zurich trip was cancelled because the guy he was tailing disappeared. No doubt the arsehole would show up in Buenos Aires next week or something. Better that than Zurich. All he had told Izzy was to meet him in this flight hangar at this private airport dressed in a business suit with her old FBI ID. She would have boarded the plane just before he got here and now Alex followed him onto the plane and pulled the door closed behind them, locking the vacuum security latch.
Alex threw his lab coat and own briefcase onto one of the spare seats and pushed his dark sunglasses up onto his head. He was unshaven with dark circles under his eyes. Fucking Marc getting him up after a single hour of post-nightshift sleep following a hard shift and six nights straight without a day off. He pulled the window blind down and stifled a yawn as he slunk into the closest seat. "I need a fucking Red Bull, pronto, dipstick," he all but growled in Marc's direction and flipped him off just for emphasis.
Izzy's eyes narrowed at Alex. She didn't like him already, and not just because he was Campbell's new partner. She raised an eyebrow at James, waiting to see if he would get the Red Bull for the other dipstick. "I'm Isabel Owens, it's not a pleasure to meet you, jackass," she said to Alex with a smile that clearly conveyed she would kill him later. She didn't bother holding out her hand, keeping them securely in her lap. For all she knew he was pleasant after some sleep, but right now she didn't like him.
Alex just folded his arms across his chest and slumped further down in his seat, pulling his glasses back over his eyes. Body language really was everything. He was cranky, but he didn't get why the bitch had automatically decided to hate his guts without even knowing him. He hadn't done anything but totally cooperate with Marc's requests for her benefit. And this is how she thanked him? Alex could handle the yummy mummy with a chip on her shoulder and colourful vocabulary from Marc's past, but who the hell was this chick? "Here's hoping my jackass nature doesn't make me forget my knowledge of sports medicine on route," was all he said and then looked away from them both.
Marc stood up and went to the bar at the back of the plane. There was no attendant on this flight, so they'd have to help themselves. He got the six pack of Red Bull out and brought it over, dropping it into Alex's lap. Alex was a sharp-shooter like he was, though, and his lightening quick reflexes caught it before it castrated him. Marc took his seat again with a shake of his head. "No bloodshed in the jet, you two. No way will we pull this off if you're bitching at each other. The bloke already has security monitoring his hospital room. Iz, this is Alex. Let's just leave it at that for now."
"I'm much prettier than him," she said to Campbell as she got up to get herself something that wasn't Red Bull. She never did well with energy drinks. "I can't believe he's my replacement. I guess if you're trading up though, might as well get a doctor." When she came back over with her cup of coffee she gave Alex a grudging smile that didn't tell him he was going to die soon. "Thank you for coming. Sorry Marc had to dig you out of bed. I do appreciate it..."
She raised her eyebrows at James as if to ask if that was better. When she stretched her legs out, her feet resting on Campbell, the gesture showing she was comfortable with him. Even after all this time, she did things without even thinking about it. "Do you get to take the jet anywhere, or is it a business perk?"
Alex downed one Red Bull in one go, then snapped open the second. "I'm not your replacement. I've never been in the FBI, technically. But if you want to play mine's bigger than your's the whole flight to England, give me a heads up so I can plan my tactics," he joked. He waved his hand a little. "Don't mention it. I owe him one, anyway."
Marc smirked at Alex. "Yeah, a fucking big one. You scarred my goddamn driver for life. He's a gay hairdresser by day, you know." He shook his head and settled into the seat. "He isn't your replacement, Iz. He and I aren't field partners like you and I were. We hardly work together on anything but case briefings. He's investigating a whole separate string than I am. There was a drug-related shooting in Princeton back in 2007. That's Alex's foundation. Mine is more government oriented. We have the jet when it won't blow our cover. Mostly it's United Airlines, First Class." He looked at her in amusement, noting her outfit. "You miss it, it don't you?"
"I'd be careful about whipping your dick out. He swings both ways in real life. For all we know, your cock will be the one to make him stop and reconsider his currently straight life," Izzy teased as she started to laugh. "We could always have a threesome on the way to England. I'm sure that would help pass the time."
"What'd he do to your driver?" Isabel asked curiously. "No wonder you're going fucking insane. Tell me you at least call him and bitch about what's going on, since he's the one person you can. And Alex, you ever fuck with him, and I will kill you. Drug-related how? Or should I ignore anything you tell me?" Iz looked down at her clothes and frowned. "What makes you think that?"
Alex drew his legs up and rested his arms across his knees. He needed to keep moving if he wanted to stay awake. At some point he would need to shower and shave in the jet's bathroom to make himself halfway presentable. He yawned and plucked the footballer's faxed medical records from his pocket. He had to read those too. "How do you know we haven't already whipped our dicks out for each other?" he asked, smirking tiredly. "Good Ol' Marcus Fraser has probably already had a threesome with us in the past. You have nothing to worry about with him. He'd take me down in a heartbeat if I fucked him over. In and out of the Service, he has quite the rep."
"He fucked Harri's friend in my car in front of my driver. You can't pull the innocent paediatrician act off with me, Teddy," Marc mocked with a snigger. He reached over and took the copies off Alex to see what they were dealing with. "A doctor got shot in the carpark by a chick who is a known link to some intense drug rings. The victim was totally innocent, but we need to cover all angles. Coincidentally, the guy's best friend got attacked in the ER by another drug pusher, so there can be threads in anything. Alex is posted to Princeton because the case is far from over." He gestured to her with the sheets. "I know you," he said pointedly. "Better than you know yourself sometimes. You can't just walk away from it. I should know that as well as anyone."
"I bet he does," Izzy murmured as she turned to glance out the jet's window. "I know you haven't whipped your dicks out because he told me there's been no cock. Which means that there's no point trying to play this game with me."
"Ah, well, yes, that would be traumatising to a gay hairdressing driver. Does everyone you're related to have double lives?" Isabel's eyebrows went up. "Really? That's pretty coincidental. But then if it's a hospital surely drug things aren't unusual. Sometimes a coincidence really is just a coincidence. Remember that case we had nearly two years back? We thought the neighbours were involved, but it turned out that the guy really was just a victim of some other douche trying scam money. It's rare, but coincidences do happen." Her green eyes flashed as she held Campbell's gaze. "I didn't have much choice. Walking away was better than trying to be there without you. Maybe I do miss it, but there's no point going back... not yet."
Alex snorted. "You're the one playing the games. I just wanted to get you off my back," he told her, finishing off his second Red Bull and resting his head tiredly back against the seat.
"Technically," Marc said, even if it wasn't much help. "Alex didn't actually have to give up his other life for his job. He just has a permanent undercover persona, but he moves back and forth between his two lives. Right now, he's undercover. My job was on a different scale. I'm technically Alex's boss, as much as he hates that. Sure, coincidences do happen, but the shooting victim was nearly murdered. Actually, the shooter was aiming for the girlfriend at the time and the guy jumped in front of her to save her life. The best friend was actually linked to the victim here in Princeton and in Edinburgh, Scotland, where we have intel suggesting a large ring connected to police corruption. We can't discount anything as coincidence."
He stopped and raised an eyebrow at her. "Why not? Why is there no point?"
Izzy blew him a kiss and winked. "And here I was thinking this was just foreplay. Consider me off your back, Alex."
She blinked as she took in everything James was saying, something tugging at the back of her mind, but not quite coming to the forefront. She just nodded in understanding. "Sure, of course. Why not? Because there's something I need to do first. And no, I'm not telling you."
Marc smirked. "Just ignore him. He's a bastard when he's lacking sleep and I dragged him off after one hour sleep. He's just put in six straight nights. Get some sleep, Alex. I'll fill her in. I'll wake you about an hour out of Liverpool."
Alex flipped Marc off again, closing his eyes. "Yeah, I bet you'll fill her in," he mumbled, but was already curling up on his side and hugging his arms around himself.
When she said she wasn't telling him whatever it was, Marc scowled a little. "Arse pain," he murmured, folding open the first page of the medical notes. "This is where you realise how convenient it is to know a member of the SS. Cameron Michael Preston." He glanced up at her, eyebrow raised. "Michael. Talk about weird-arsed coincidence. Anyway, the name is familiar, but I watched English football when I was over here, so it doesn't surprise me. Twenty nine years old, birthday December twelve. Lives in Liverpool with a secondary address in London, Docklands. The boy's got money."
Iz only blushed slightly at the filling in comment, but she managed not to look like she'd even considered the option. She sat and listened to the details before she tilted her head. "Isn't this stuff he should tell me himself? My kismet lay isn't a case... even if we're apparently conducting a secret mission to get me in to see him. And the Michael thing we can ignore. He's fucking toast. So's Laura. I haven't spoken to either since that night. I don't care about the money. Or the football. Even if he does look incredibly hot in the uniform. Fantastic ass."
"You need to know details if you're supposed to be Alex's assistant. You'd know things like full name and date of birth. You don't know who is going to get nosey and start asking questions," Marc reasoned and turned to the triage sheet. He skimmed over the details. "Poor bastard. Concussion, dislocated shoulder and fractured left patella. Guy had emergency surgery to repair the knee. How well did you get to know him, because chances are he will be drugged up to the eyeballs when we get there."
"Oh, right.. of course." Iz brushed her fingers against her forehead and looked at James. "One night turned into three, and involved plenty of deep and meaningfuls. Except he doesn't know much about you. You're just an ex that came back into my life."
Marc nodded. "Good. Because he's not meeting me. He's meeting Dr Peter Davidson, Assistant Professor of Sports Medicine at Columbia University." He pulled out the fake university ID and held it up to Izzy with a smirk. "Don't worry. We'll sort it. And at risk of sounding like a jealous ex, I have to ask, are you seriously thinking about pursuing something with him or is this just worry over someone you feel affection towards because you fucked him the day he hurt himself?"
Iz crossed her legs over and folded her hands in her lap like she was in an interview. "Well, Dr Davidson, at the risk of sounding like a jilted ex, I would start by saying fuck off. Then clarify that yes, it is because I am seriously considering something. I didn't even consider the fact I had been fucking him hours before. It's not like that. If it was that, I would just be sitting at home feeling a bit sad before moving on with my life."
Marc held his finger up. "I wasn't asking as a jealous ex. I was asking as a best friend. I don't want you hurt," he told her quietly, glancing at Alex to make sure his partner was asleep. He was definitely out for the count, one arm hanging loosely over the side of the arm rest, so Marc leaned forward. "This is a lot of chaos and planning for just a one nighter. That's why I was asking. I just wanted to hear it out of your mouth."
Her eyes studied his face for a long moment before her posture relaxed. "It wasn't one night... that's the whole point. It should have just been one night, but it wasn't. We spent just about the whole time he was here together. I drove him to the fucking airport! He made me feel something I hadn't felt for a long time, so yeah... I want to try and hang onto that, but isn't that what relationships are supposed to be about? Not that we're in one, but it's how they start... Or could start."
Marc nodded slowly and then held up the records. "This could complicate things. I think if we get there and he's off his face, you should try and talk to his brother. Otherwise, you're really just going to be another face in the crowd. The guy needs to know he's more than a fling, and I think his brother might be the key."
Isabel gave a return nod before she turned to look out the window. It was strange having Campbell here while she was trying to sort things out with her kismet lay. Then again, maybe it was how it should be. They weren't together, and the more they realised that, the better. It was easier for her to keep thinking of him as her best friend if they kept doing normal things. Like breaking into a hospital was all that normal. "Okay... I'll talk to the brother."
All muses referenced with permission and are from the princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 2,689