| "In the Company of Misery" | ||
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May 23, 2008 New York, Lower Manhattan Safehouse 1 He had always thought that there was a fine line between being an operative's friend and still maintaining his authority. He had always thought he kept the thickness of that line in sight and maneuvered accordingly and very much aware of it. But that was then and now? Well, now was now, and now he had 'moved up the ladder' as they say. Though his title had changed his ties were still strong, his loyalties were just as invested, and regardless of who he still was, that line had become thinner and thinner. He was seen now more like the enemy than the ally. And that was a damn shame they didn't like it because he certainly didn't want to be going out either, surrounded by people he had never really worked with, that only half had proven themselves, and a couple that felt 'uncomfortable' shooting a fucking weapon! He clenched his jaw tighter as the elevator carrying the entire crew rose steadily towards the roof. The good mood, all right...decent...mood he had been in earlier (no thanks to Paige providing something interesting to look at) had steadily vanished as the mission drew near. The tension was so thick in the lift right now it was stifling. Fuck the knife, he'd need a chainsaw to cut through it. And what had steadily diminished his good mood? Perhaps, the more appropriate question was what had NOT steadily diminished his good mood. His phone had vibrated in the locker rooms before him and Baz had left to follow Paige. Of course he couldn't get a decent signal in the fucking mass of concrete he was in and had missed the call. Now he would have to wait until he was in the chopper to make the call back. During the little pow wow with the teams with Gray barking out some nonsense and morale boosting crap, Simon had informed them the weather was not any better near Toronto and had a good possibility of being worse. He had read the expression clearly over each of their faces and he was pretty sure the same one was on his: what else could go wrong? Then his cell phone vibrated again but he couldn't answer it with everyone standing around. That had only pissed him off further. And that anger had held over steadily to where he was now, in this stupid elevator staring at the stupid numbers over the stupid doors. He shifted his weight grinding his teeth more pissed off thinking about it. He didn't understand why the littlest things seemed to piss him off the most. Like right now, Baz and Paige were nudging each other behind him. They didn't make any noise but he was quite aware of what was going on. And it was pissing him off! He turned his head scowling at them until they both looked at him. Like two fucking little kids!!! They dropped their gaze and stifled smiles...but thankfully, stopped nudging each other. The elevator, after what seemed like the eternal ride from hell, finally opened its doors letting them into the holding room near the roof. They were on hold for confirmation from the pilots that everything was a go, so it was just more tense waiting. With waiting however, came opportunity, and Joshua was never one to let opportunity be passed up. The best cure for a bad mood � was to put someone else in a bad mood. Misery might have loved company but Joshua reveled in it. He walked over to Saf, who stood a bit apart from all the others. Perfect. At least now he wouldn't have to pull her to the side. "What do you think of the scenarios?" It was a valid question. He respected her opinion, hell, she had profiled enough missions to earn that at least from him. Respect was not protection, though, and that respect for her did not protect her from him. There weren't many things in this world that could. "Too much depends on what we find inside the warehouse, but they seem to be broad enough to cover multiple possibilities," she said easily, almost a canned statement. He nodded taking a look around the room, spying his next target and one that would perhaps give him more pleasure and less bad moodiness. "Yeah, that's what I thought," he said finally returning his attention to her. "You remember what we talked about?" He fixed his eyes on hers, taking them in, feeding off the gray depths that both respected and hated him at the same time. "I remember," she said flatly. "Not the part about telling me off in your subtle little way," he smirked at her. He thought for sure that comment would get to her, gain some kind of reaction. But it didn't and in turn his respect for her grew deeper. In the end, she would prove to be the greatest ally, but she didn't know that now, and that's what made it all the more fun for him. She would be the most fun to watch break. People like this always were. It was just a damn shame he wouldn't be the one doing it. Bending, however, THAT he could do. And if it helped him get into a better mood in the process � then what was the harm really? Besides, he had chalked one up to her in the conference room, giving her the win to that small battle of wills. But he wasn't a giving kinda guy. He was a taking kinda guy. And right now he would be taking back what was rightfully his...control. "The part about you being the backbone to certain missions." She stared at him blankly but he had been around Michael long enough to know what the man's underlings might be thinking. He wasn't always right, but he was a pretty good guesser. "Well, you're gonna need to be the backbone of this mission." She arched an eyebrow at him. "If anything happens to me...you got lead. Don't let Simon or especially Gray take over. You'll be in the field, you call the shots." She stared at him but said nothing. "It's not stated but there's a well defined pecking order amongst you. They would listen to you if you stepped up to the plate." She just continued to stare and he could feel the bad mood sloughing off his skin as he steered her towards that inevitable corner. He looked to her with feigned confusion, "you will step up...we specifically profiled..." "I'm sure it won't be necessary," she said finally, "but you know I will do what I need to do." He smiled satisfied. "I know," he said flatly though his smile remained. This unnerved her and he could feel the hairs rise along his own neck. Oh, I'm not done with you just yet. Simon was announcing the pilots were ready, time to move out. It was too perfect. "Keep an eye on your palm, we'll be working scenarios through the trip." She looked down at the palm after nodding her acknowledgement. He started to move, to walk past her and as he did, he leaned down to whisper softly in her ear. He made sure his voice was concerned, because he was really, she was his back up after all, and the excuse would get the perfect tone to his words. He also made sure it was low enough for only her to hear, to keep the matter private. But he had to say it, he had to let her know that HE knew. That fact that he had approved the removal of the tracker, expected it even, would be a card to play another day. Today it would be just enough to let her know that he was very aware of her little tracker problem. "Glad to see you feeling better after your neck surgery," he whispered, purposefully allowing his lips to brush ever so softly against her ear, just so he could feel her stiffen beneath them. Goddamn, that felt good! He grinned as he moved on, not looking back at her and hardly able to control the threatening giggle. The other target was getting ready to go. Not so fast, he reached out to touch her arm. She looked back and upon recognizing him the tension increased considerably over her facial muscles. "Jordy," he said softly, "remember what I told you." His voice was not threatening, it didn't really have to be. She was scared of him, and he had used that tactic earlier on her. Now, it was just a matter of reaffirming it. She nodded at him with a small smile. She was so cute, damn shame he had to use her like this. Well, she would understand eventually. In the end, they all would understand. Return |
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