Jean-Paul and Jack, backdated 7/25/14

[om_northstar]

Jean-Paul and Jack find themselves potentially compromised and agree to run with the explanation no one was looking forward to.



The bug hadn't been all that well hidden; whoever had planted it had either been in a hurry or just plain had no clue. But it had been good enough that it had ridden into the hotel room in the outermost pocket of Jean-Paul's backback before he and Jack had noticed it.

'Fuck.' Jean-Paul mouthed the word, scowling down at the device. Then he reached for Jack pulling him close enough to rustle their clothes against each other. The gesture was rougher than he'd meant it to be, but the discovery just had shot adrenaline to his system in a useless fight-or-flight response.

"Did you miss me?"

"Always do," Jack replied, tapping away at his wrist device and trusting Jean-Paul to keep up their act. The bug was clearly a tracking device, but was it listening too? They'd keep going until they were sure. "Saw you on TV the other day."

"Kissing up to my adoring public all over again," Jean-Paul said. "But at least they didn't stuff us into those fuck ugly uniforms." His tone was light, but he was still glaring down at the bug.

"I love that uniform," Jack told him, something flirtatious layered into the humor. He'd established that the bug was only a tracking device, but he was scanning for any other technology to make sure there was nothing else. He chuckled, keeping that sexy edge. "Every time I see it, I just want to tear it off you."

"That's something we have in common, anyway," Jean-Paul snorted. "But that shit is not going to get me in the mood."

"Spoilsport," Jack accused, this time without any flirtation. "And we're good, no one's listening. That's the only bug, and it's just tracking your location."

"Asshole." Jean-Paul gave him a shove that was playful despite the fresh tension in his stance. "So I guess the question now is, do we wreck it or play dumb? And if we play dumb, just how stupid are we planning to be?"

"We play dumb," Jack answered immediately, looking thoughtfully at the bug. Honestly, a vindictive part of his brain was thinking of "interesting" places they could leave it for whoever wanted to track Jean-Paul, but... "And we figure out who planted it. I mean, it doesn't look government-issued to me."


"It was practically in plain sight, but I know it wasn't there when I was getting ready to meet you. That narrows down the pool of suspects to my dorm mates," Jean-Paul sighed.

"Yeah, but is it a one-man effort," Jack pointed out. He gave Jean-Paul a look that was equal parts amused and displeased. "I guess we use the primary cover plan? We can try and spot any familiar faces in the lobby."


"I flew. If they have someone who can keep up with me, we may as well set fire to the room now and flee in the confusion." Jean-Paul considered. "But whoever it is will probably keep trying to find out where I'm going if their bug just stops working. Or if they find out I checked into a hotel for a few hours and no one resembling my boyfriend did." His heart sank and he crashed more than sat on the bed. "Fuck."

Simon was going to kill him.

"They can't exactly hook this thing up to Google maps," Jack said, considering. "So let's assume they're headed here to find out where you are. Driving, so we've got some time for the debrief still, and this thing's pretty primitive." He held up the bug, unimpressed. His wrist device had given him the full specs. "It won't give your location more specifically than this block. Hotel's the best bet of course, but don't expect anyone to come knocking on our door."

Basically, Jack knew Jean-Paul didn't want to use their designated cover, but it was still their best bet. Playing dumb. "Of course, you could 'find' the bug back in the dorms and watch the reactions. I'd pay to see that."


"It's tempting." And he absolutely meant that. "But I see that backfiring. If whoever it was doesn't confess and the higher ups start thinking I picked it up outside of the compound, security will clamp down tight."

Jack gave him a look that clearly agreed, but said, "I'd still pay to see it."

"My first bet would be Langkowski anyway," Jean-Paul muttered. "You'd need someone smart enough to put together something like this, and if the bug were being supplied by Department H, it would probably be a lot more high tech."

"Or at least better hidden," Jack agreed flatly.

"Depends on if their spy is as smart as he thinks he is. Or if he thinks I'm a lot more stupid than I am."

"So, we leave the bug here? Pretend it fell out of your bag?" Jack's mind was moving ahead, evaluating their next steps. He frowned. "How long until the would-be spy catches up?"

"From Ottowa? A couple of hours." This would happen when they'd chosen a meeting spot relatively close to Ontario. He considered. "We could keep playing dumb. Leave the bug in my bag, see who tries to retrieve it, if anyone."

"We can only guess when our spy will get here, and hope he sees our little performance." Was Jack already assuming that Langkowski was there spy? Yeah, pretty much. "But if he misses it, think he's more likely to bug you again? We can leave it in the room at least, so he thinks he knows." He shrugged. "Can't say it makes a huge difference either way."

Then he gave JP one of those half-amused, half-apologetic looks (combined with a mock-flirtatious flick of his eyebrows). "Alright, shirt off," he said, before promptly tugging his own t-shirt over his head.

"I meant take it back with me to the base. If he thought I hadn't noticed, he might want to get it back before I..." Jean-Paul stopped in mid-sentence, staring. "What are you doing?"

"We're having an extended afternoon romp," Jack reminded him, definitely smirking now. "I want that shirt authentically rumpled. Y'know, from when I tore it off of you and we left it on the floor."

Jean-Paul sighed. "Do you want my boyfriend to shoot you?"

There was a moment where Jack was tempted to offer a cheery 'He wouldn't be the first', but decided against it. "I want your cover to stay intact; so does Simon," he replied instead. "And since both Simon and Steve are human lie detectors, they'll have to believe me when I tell them that nothing happened."

He paused, unable to suppress a grin. "Although I will try to avoid calling it a 'shirtless debriefing'."

As much as Jean-Paul wanted to glare at Jack, he just couldn't muster the energy. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Simon he hated this. He hated what it was going to do to Simon. He hated using Jack. He hated that even if Langkowski was nowhere in the vicinity, there would be plenty of gawkers to help blow their fabricated cover. And he hated himself a little for acknowledging that if he hadn't been attached, he'd have been enjoying this despite the circumstances.

"I've been flying," he muttered, reluctantly stripping off his shirt. "How much more rumpled can I get?"

"There's a special kind wrinkle that can only be achieved from being discarded on the floor," Jack informed him with great authority. He was definitely enjoying this because, well, the situation was hilarious: they were faking an affair to fool everyone except the people each of them were actually dating. An afternoon spent half in serious mission talk (and half in school news updates) would be carefully concealed as a (not-quite-)secret fling.


And yeah, they'd put on a show, but that's all it was as far as Jack was concerned. All relevant parties were informed, no one was being betrayed or caught unprepared, no harm would be done - so why not have fun with it?

"You are so full of shit." Jean-Paul balled up his shirt and threw it at Jack. "All right. I guess I start the debriefing this time..."