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sydbond-blog · 7 years ago

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One Good Thing- Chapter 1

It’s now up on AO3 (along with chapter and all future chapters!) : https://archiveofourown.org/works/14337678/chapters/33088791

The hospital room is cold. Jaz wraps her arms around herself, trying not to concentrate too much on everything at stake. She has never liked hospitals. The machines, the smells- they are all part of something she saw too much of as a child.

Broken bones, deep dark bruises and lengthy burns- She saw way too much of those beeping machines.

Preach is still breathing, with the help of those very machines and she knows she should be grateful, but she really can’t be. Not after the way Preach’s wife cried over the phone. Jaz had swallowed back tears; she had to be strong for Preach’s wife, but right there, sitting next to him without anyone to see her, she knows she is fighting a lost cause.

Amir is asleep on a plastic chair and there is drool falling on the side of his cheek. On an ordinary day, she would have taken a picture and revelled in the blackmail possibilities it would bring, but now all she can do is worry.

Because Preach is still on life support, their whole team got shaken up due to this son of a bitch and Top. Top is his very own category of worries.

He’d left them without a single word, simply disappearing without a trace. As if they weren’t his team. As if all those times she’d had his back meant nothing.

She knows that he has probably justified this decision with a need to protect them. Jaz goes back to their conversation after the guys came back from Colombia. How he’d told her that he had this darkness inside of him that he feared could not be controlled.

Jaz lets out a sigh, massaging her temple, trying to top the rising anxiety. Hoffman has Preach’s gun. Top, he has nothing. No element of surprise, no carefully detailed plan. Nothing. Not even them.

She’s not sure she can lose someone again.

The machines beep steadily and, for a moment, she tries to concentrate on the easy rhythm. Her breaths coordinate with the sounds and she feels herself getting calmer. Like she does when she’s in the field.

She’s worried sick, but mostly she is hurt. More than she wants to admit.

The two of them usually pair up on missions. His eyes are on hers first when things go south. She’s the one he spills his guts to when they get back from a rough job. She’d thought that she was special. That what they had was special.

But he’d cut her off just as easily as the rest of them, leaving her with nothing but worries and a slow boiling anger. It hurts.

Jaz pushes herself off the wall, heading down the hallway to Director Campbell’s room. Her watch tells her it’s been over five hours since Top has deserted them. Slowly, hurt turns into more worry.

McG is there, eyes glued to his closed phone. Campbell is sleeping on her bed. McG raises his eyes to hers, and she tears up like a five year old.

‘‘Joe, ‘‘ she whispers, feeling like all the weight of the world is on her shoulders.

He swiftly gets up, phone forgotten, wrapping her up in his arms. It doesn’t take her long before she is wetting his shirt, silent tears streaming down her face. His huge frame engulfs hers and she feels ridiculous, head barely reaching his chest. But his hands at warm against the cotton of her shirt and his arms are strong and steady and she clings to him like a lifeline.

The first night after Elijah died, she had wandered aimlessly down the hallway until she’d landed in his bed. It wasn’t the first time, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. Sometimes all you needed were strong arms holding you, and McG didn’t seem to recoil from her touch like Dalton did.

They stay like that for a long moment, her face pressed up on his shirt, his hands smoothing down her hair. Neither of them speaks for some time. When her breathing evens out, McG glances at Campbell and tugs Jaz out of the room. Her eyes are puffy and his are rimmed with red and she doesn’t let go of his hand.

‘‘Where is he? ‘‘ she asks in a small voice. McG runs a hand through his hair, eyes softening as they set on her. She must look pitiful, but all she can think about is that Adam is out there somewhere, needing them, probably hurt. Adam. She only lets herself call him that in her head. It seems too special, too intimate.

Her heart contracts painfully in her chest.

‘‘I don’t know Jazzy, ‘‘ answers McG and he pulls at their interlocked fingers, bringing her back to his chest.

This time, she glances up at him instead of hiding in his chest. He’s already seen the tears.

A shiver goes through her, and she’s not sure if it’s from the cold hospital air, or the panic rising to the surface. McG shrugs off his hoodie and wraps it around her, zipping it to her neck.

��‘Come on, let’s go grab a coffee, ‘‘ he says, hand still firmly grasping hers. It’s like he’s afraid she might bolt if he lets her go.

Jaz presses her nose into the soft, worn fabric. It smells like McG, but there is this light hint of laundry detergent that she usually associates with Top.

xxxxx

They end up at an old formica table, glancing down at their steaming mugs of bad coffee and day-old doughnuts. Jaz stomach growls loudly and she knows she should eat something, but she also knows it will come back up the second it passes her lips.

For an hour, McG does his best to keep her mind away from Top, recalling old missions and making fun of their teammates. She laughs, not too loud, not too hard, but she still laughs and he seems satisfied with it.

‘‘Don’t worry, he’ll come through,” he says and she gazes at him, tired and worried. ‘‘In a few hours you’ll be back to doing your Dalton eyes.”

‘‘My what?” she asks sharply, not unlike the way she’d replied to Hoffman’s boyfriend comment 48 hours ago. She hadn’t missed the way Adam stepped right in front of her after that, as if trying to shield her from their radioactive guest.

‘‘You know, those eyes you make at him, like he’s the center of the universe.”

He is the center of her universe. But Jaz didn’t think she was that obvious. Elijah used to tease her about her Dalton eyes too.

Jaz doesn’t answer. This is a touchy subject. There are careers on the line, emotions on the line, her team on the line. She isn’t sure she wants to risk losing so much.

‘‘Your secret’s safe with me,”‘ he says and she casts him a grateful look. His fingers squeeze hers.

‘‘I need some air,” she replies and he seems to catch on she wants some time by herself. He nods and she leaves, heading to the front doors of the hospital.

xxxxx

There are benches and trees, smiling people and a light wind. The sun is slowly sinking into the color-splattered sky. It would be a beautiful night if she wasn’t torn apart with grief and worry.

Jaz shivers in McG’s hoodie and buries her fists in her pockets. She takes them out and wrings her hands together before putting them back inside. She can’t seem to stay in place, not when Top- Adam- is in danger. Jaz needs to know his six is being watched. She needs to know he’s safe.

Adam.

She falls back on a bench, letting out yet another sigh. Another hour passes by and she toys with her emotions, an unhealthy game they’ve all been guilty of playing.

Jaz feels his presence before he’s even on hospital grounds, ninja skills coming in handy. He sees her immediately and she feels like a thousand bricks have been lifted from her shoulders. Her breaths come more easily, and all she wants to do is to keep him next to her, safe.

Top walks up to her, hands in his pockets, a haunted look in his eyes. He casts her an easy grin and that grin goes straight through her. It changes something, like a light switch and suddenly all worry is replaced with something bigger, stronger that bubbles up to the surface.

She punches him. Hard.

‘‘What the hell Jaz?” he asks, and she is torn between the urge to kiss him and the one to hit him again.

The latter one wins. ‘‘You don’t get to do this,” she says, punching him again, straight in the chest. ‘‘Disappearing, not a single word.” She sticks an accusing finger into his muscles with every word. ‘‘Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

He catches her hand and folds it to his chest, over the skin she’s just bruised.

‘‘I didn’t want you to be there when the darkness came,” he replies and she bites down on her lip, willing away the tears.

Her eyes are glassy and she’s failing miserably at this not crying thing. Inside of her, relief wins over anger and she holds his gaze. Her other hand goes to his beard, fingers ghosting over it in a tender gesture.

Adam closes his eyes as she does so. They both know they are toeing the line, but neither of them move.

‘‘I don’t care,” she whispers and he pulls her to his chest. He wraps his arms around her waist, holding her like he’s afraid she might break. She’s not sure exactly what she doesn’t care about; his stupid reasoning or the darkness that resides inside of him. Right now, she has him back and it’s all that matters.

xxxx

Jaz wakes up in the middle of the night, throat drier than the desert.

Hannah and Noah found them a suite in a nearby hotel so they could be close to the hospital while the Quonset hunt was taken care of. There are two bedrooms. Amir and McG share one while Top had insisted on taking the couch. She’d protested, telling him the queen bed was plenty big for the two of them, but something in his eyes had her relenting. Seeing Preach like that seemed to have taken a number on him. Maybe he needed the alone time.

She silently sneaks into the kitchen, surprised to find Top awake. He is facing away from her, his shoulders shaking under the weight of his sobs. For a moment she considers retreating back to her room and leaving him some privacy, but the sight of crumpled Adam has her aching.

Jaz moves in front of him and it’s either a testament to her ninja skills or his state of mind that he doesn’t notice she’s there until she is crouching in front of him, putting a hand to his knee.

His eyes are red-rimmed as they rise, landing on Jaz. She reaches for him and lets her thumb wipe out tears from his cheek. He leans into her touch.

‘‘Top,” she whispers, but the rest of her words get stuck in her throat.

‘‘What if he doesn’t make it,” he says.

She watches him carefully. Somehow, she knows he killed Hoffman. A piece of his soul has probably been chipped off from that act alone. Preach being in a coma might just be the last straw.

Jaz’s heart aches for him, and for a moment all she wants to do is kiss him until this world makes sense again. She settles for sinking to her knees in front of him. Her hands settle on both sides of his face, forcing him to look at her.

‘‘He will,” she says in a firm voice.

He sighs loudly, hurt coming off of him in waves.

‘‘You’re a good man,” she says because it’s the thing he needs to hear. He doesn’t answer and she traces small circles over his skin.

It’s her turn to be strong.

Jaz wraps her arms around him, ignoring the awkward angle. He tugs her closer and she falls on his lap, straddling him. He buries his head in her chest and nothing about this feels physical. It feels intimate, and it’s both heart-wrenching and comforting.

After a few minutes Jaz glances at the clock and scrapes her nails over his scalp.

‘‘Come to bed,” she urges, because she knows there is no way Adam will be able to get through tomorrow without sleeping for the second night in a row. He nods and lets her guide them to their feet. She pushes the cover open and helps him lay down.

Jaz moves to the other side of the bed and closes her eyes. It’s not long before she feels Adam reaching out for her.

His hands snake around her waist bringing her to him. His knees curl under hers as his grip tightens. She sinks into his embrace, heart fluttering even when it shouldn’t. Adam falls asleep behind her, his breath ghosting over her exposed shoulder. She smiles through the pain.

She’ll worry about it tomorrow.

#the brave #jaz x adam #jaz x dalton #renewthebrave #adam dalton #jaz khan #adam x jaz #jalton #dalton x jaz #One Good Thing

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koalathebear · 6 years ago

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The Brave fan fic: “You”

I was pretty upset when they cancelled The Brave. Knowing that the team were heading back State-side soon, I knew that it was probably as good a time to end the series as any, but it still hurt that I'd never know what happened to them all. I had so many unanswered questions. The Jaz/Dalton relationship would never get closure. So I decided to write my own, somewhat sappy conclusion.

You. Set at the end of season 1 and the end of the series when the team have all returned from deployment. As usual, i send people I love to South Durras in Australia to heal ... It’s become a Thing of mine.

#the brave #fan fiction #my fic #adam x jaz

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undercoverwatermoon · 7 years ago

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“Surprise” (Jalton/Future Fic)

This started as a completely different story, but here's where it ended up. This occurs in the same verse as "Stars", so they're a series now.

Series on AO3 here: Future Moments I'll continue adding related one-shots to this series as I am inspired to write them. All will be future Jalton.

Definitely a wedding one (as promised to #TheFab5) will be added at some point, and of course Jalton babies and Daddy!Adam.

This story happens an appropriate amount of time prior to "Stars”

Endless thank you's to the #TheFab5 who are always willing to talk me off the ledge when I get lost in my feelings (see evidence below), and to @stupid-jeans (who IS one of #TheFab5 lol) for the always wonderful beta!

Enjoy everyone!

It’s only been five days since they touched down on American soil, and an entire three days since she last saw Adam. Saying goodbye at the airport had been a brand new experience, barely hours since they’d given in to the long-standing tension between them, finally deciding their chance at happiness was worth the risk.

Jaz. We are practically together, in every sense of the word, except...physically

Adam had been so convinced. So sure that it was their time. It gives her goosebumps remembering the look in his eyes as he’d patiently argued his point. Preach’s words from a few deployments ago, about not ignoring connections, echo in her mind, and she makes a mental note to ask Adam how many wisdom interventions Preach had subjected him to in the recent past. Comparing stories might be fun.

Walking aimlessly along the supermarket aisles, looking at everything and deciding on nothing, Jaz finds herself daydreaming. It’s strange to her, how the most mundane things remind her of him. That healthy, cardboard-like cereal he likes is on aisle nine, and she stops there for what seems like hours, smiling like a fool until she finally throws it in the shopping cart. Then come the bagels -Adam likes carbs- the blueberry ones for some reason, so she grabs those too, chastising herself for feeling like a giddy teenager, buying her boyfriend’s favorite things.

A couple dozen more items end up in the cart, but her mind is distracted, a thousand miles away where Adam is, visiting his sister’s family for a few days. She knows he’ll be back, logically, so it feels ridiculous to her how much she misses his scent, his voice, his smile....how much a cereal box in her hand makes her feel like he’s closer somehow.

Right now, in the middle of an empty supermarket, at two o’clock in the afternoon, this tough, badass, special operations sniper wants nothing more than to have her boyfriend home. How is she supposed to wait two more days?

“Sorry,” she mumbles to the polite old man she almost runs over moving towards the checkout line, and minutes later she’s on the road with a hodgepodge of groceries in the trunk.

The minute she walks through the garage door she knows he’s home.

“Adam?” Calling his name, she rounds the corner from the kitchen and finds him standing there, smiling at her.

“Surprise.”

Adam catches her easily when she rushes toward him and jumps, long smooth legs wrapping around his waist. Laughing as she peppers kisses all over his face, he turns and leans their entwined bodies against the nearest wall, savoring the feel of her pressed against him, in all the right places. God, he missed her so much, and he will tell her that and lots more, as soon as his brain can manage a coherent thought.

They make out like teenagers for a few minutes, soft noises, sighs and moans mixing together, amplifying the pleasure slowly building as their hands roam.

“I missed you,” he murmurs, and she smiles against his mouth. “I might leave more often though, if this is the reception I get.”

“Who says you’re ever leaving again?” Adam chuckles at that. Jaz looks him in the eye, a hand coming up to cup his cheek. “I’m serious. Not sharing you with the world. They can get their own Adam.”

The attempt at levity falls a bit flat. It’s not the words themselves, but what lurks beneath them that has Adam immediately shifting from amusement to mild concern.

“Hey. What’s wrong?”

That soft, intimate tone laces his voice, and Jaz is mildly afraid of the power it holds over her now. Closing her eyes with a shake of her head, she tries to refocus on the way his hard body is still pressing her against the wall. Rolling her hips against him, she moves to kiss him, but Adam is on alert now, and he’s not going to let this go. He shifts his his hips back slightly, and her legs drop to the floor. So, they’re doing this. Now.

“It’s nothing, really. I’m fine.” At his skeptical look she sighs. “It’s just…” Trailing off, she looks down for a second before ducking under his arm and moving towards the kitchen. Adam follows her, a few steps behind, giving her the space her body language is begging for.

Finding the right words proves harder than expected. The wave of frustration begins to rise within her, and having no clue where it even comes from makes it so much worse. The past three days replay in her mind. What is she suppose to say here? That she missed him? That she spent every waking minute daydreaming about his arms around her? That being away from him for three measly days almost drove her mad? That now that they’re here, officially together, she’s afraid she won’t ever survive without him? Isn’t it too soon for all of that?

They’ve grown as close as two people can be without actually being together these past five years, but in all that time, they’ve never done this. Talking openly about their feelings, giving voice to their fears, hopes, and expectations. Five days ago, she thought they were simply taking the next logical step. Giving in to the overwhelming need to explore their relationship - and each other- with nothing holding them back. Right now though, she wonders if they’re right back at square one.

“Talk to me.”

Jaz can’t help but turn towards him at that. She wants to tell him everything, so badly, if only to erase the worry etched on his face. But she’s never done this before….intimacy, opening up. Never cared enough to stick around and do this instead of run.

Even so, she knows none of her past experiences could ever compare to now. Because this is Adam, who is everything she never dreamed she’d find in a man. So, regardless of the past, she will do her best to muddle through this, for him. And it will be messy and uncomfortable, but there’s no other option in her mind. If things between them fail, it won’t be because she didn’t try. Those clear blue eyes she loves are growing more troubled now, and hating that her silence is the cause, she takes a deep breath and jumps in feet first.

“I think it’s just...everything.” She begins with a helpless shrug. “In the last five days, we came back from Turkey, debriefed at the DIA, talked about us- you and me, as a couple- then spent the best night ever together, like... I didn’t know that was even possible...and then you left and--”

Adam frowns at that. “We agreed. You said you were fi--”

“I know what I said, okay?”

The outburst takes them both by surprise, but Adam instantly takes a step closer, cupping her face in his hands before she can retreat. So much is swirling around them, a cloud of questions and future decisions and sensitive conversations about the past- which Xander would say they absolutely need to have. Adam knows they’ll need time to wade through it, and he wonders how much of what’s still to come is driving the frustration pouring out now. Still, amongst all the heavy thoughts floating in his mind, one stands out, and it surprises him that it’s not serious at all.

“The best night ever?” Adam asks, with raised eyebrows and lips curved in a teasing smile.

Jaz huffs out a surprised laugh. “Seriously? That’s what you got from all that?” she asks, and attempts unsuccessfully to squeeze out of his grasp.

Adam sobers, readjusts his strong but tender hold around her neck, thumbs stroking her cheeks. Opening his legs wide, he lowers so they’re at eye level now.

“Jaz, baby. Listen to me.” The pet name draws an almost imperceptible whimper from her, and she brings her hands up, wraps them around his wrists. “I know it’s a lot to take in...us. But I promise you, we’ll figure all this out. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

The words sink in, and the raw, fearless emotion in his gaze catches her off guard. It’s too much, and she knows it’s a bit spineless to want to hide from it now, but she’ll implode if she doesn’t clear her head.

Reaching with her right hand, she runs her fingers over his beard, offering a smile that doesn’t entirely reach her eyes. He leans into her touch, wanting to draw her out, but she turns her body away from him toward the counter instead, one hand closing around the nearest grocery bag as the other drops away from his face.

Once again, Adam lets her go, watching as random food items emerge from the striped reusable totes.

“Well….that’s good to know,” she says, trying to sound nonchalant. “That you’re staying, I mean.” With her back to him, she holds up the cereal box for him to see. “Because, I’ve already bought this awful bird food you like. And those blueberry bagels, which are carb-loaded monstrosities really, and it’d be so rude of you to--”

Large, strong hands on her waist halt her nervous rambling, and when he folds his warm, solid body around her, the tension just oozes out of her with a long, deep exhale. Turning in his arms, she buries her face in his chest and just breathes him in.

Adam stands there, arms wrapped tightly around Jaz, and his mind flashes to the few seconds before, as he’d watched her stiff and shaking lightly, emptying out grocery bags. Her words about cereal and bagels flood his ears now- and the underlying fear in them, the possibility that he may not stick around- hits him like a sucker punch to the gut.

He’d gotten on that plane, because his nieces were waiting and Jaz had been adamant she’d meet them another time. Thinking it was her way of carving out “me” time for herself, he’d acquiesced. But as he’d stood hugging her goodbye outside the TSA line, nose buried in her apple-scented hair, he’d wanted nothing more than to haul her with him through security and never let her go.

With stark clarity, he can now feel this abyss between them, this notion of impermanence and ambiguity hovering around their relationship status, their future. He’d thought they’d have time for all that. His words as he’d explained his reasoning five days ago float through his mind...Jaz. We’re practically together, in every sense of the word…

Now though, he can see that statement wasn’t entirely true. By holding back those three words that mattered the most, he unknowingly allowed doubt to seep in through the cracks. Adam knows that nothing but brutal honesty will do now. It’s the one thing that has always worked to stop her from spiraling, so he decides that’s the way this will go. There is no room for more misunderstandings now. They’re not starting this journey on uneven emotional ground.

Jaz’s muffled voice interrupts his epiphany, and he rubs his cheek against her hair as he feels her mouth moving against his chest.

“I just missed you. It’s stupid. You were only gone three days, and I know we’ve only been--”

“I love you, Jaz.” The way she freezes against him tugs at his heart. After a second, she inches back, staring at her finger as it toys with a button on his checkered dress shirt. He watches as she takes a deep breath before her brown eyes drift up to his, shining with unshed tears.

“You do?” Uncertainty and hope mingle in her voice.

“Of course I--” Adam swallows, eyes closing against the flood of remorse.

“I’m such an idiot. I convinced you that we could do this, that the time was right for us... and then I….” Shaking his head, he brings his forehead down against hers with a regretful sigh. “I’m sorry. I love you, okay? I have loved you, for years. I’ll say it as many times as you want. Just, please, don’t cry.”

Unable to find her voice after that, she swallows and moves her head up and down in a nod. Adam opens his eyes in time to see her radiant smile, and can’t help kissing the now pinkish tip of her nose. When she blinks, and the tears finally fall, he wipes them away with his thumbs. He’s desperate now to make her understand, and the words just tumble out.

“I was waiting to tell you, when we had more time. I’ve been...planning it for a while.” That self-deprecating Adam smile, the one he reserves just for her, makes her chuckle through the tears. “I even asked my sister for advice. I was gonna take you out. Our official first date. That’s why I came back early, to surprise you and...God, it doesn’t even matter--”

“Adam.” Jaz’s voice is strong now, sure and steady, and he lets out the proverbial breath he’s been holding. Slowly, she fans her hands on his chest, tracing lazy patterns with her fingers and following them with her eyes.

“You know, our first night together?” She looks up through her lashes now. “It really was the best night ever.”

Adam grins, fast and bright. “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah.”

#The Brave #NBC The Brave #Jalton #Jaz x Adam #Adam x Jaz #First I Love You #Adam is a SAPPY SAP SAP #Jaz loses it over cereal #TheFab5

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gargoyles42 · 7 years ago

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#the brave #thebraveedit #adam dalton #jaz khan #adam x jaz #mike vogel #natacha karam #my gifs #.tb

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izkim · 7 years ago

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#the brave #thebraveedit #mike vogel #natacha karam #adam dalton #jasmine khan #adam x jaz #mine: gifs #i love them already

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angellwingsffn-blog · 7 years ago

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I love your writing!! For the prompt thing jaz x adam number 11:)

It ended up a bit longer than a “mini-fic” so the tease is here and I posted the rest! Links to full text at the end. xx

The next four weeks passed quickly, or that’s how it seemed, and they were rotated out. They had the next 3-4 months to decompress. They weren’t sure exactly how long they had before going back but it would be at least three months. If they were lucky four.

The team was split up across the U.S. while they were back, each living in different states. Jaz had moved as far away from New York as she possibly could as soon as she was old enough to carry her own. Her tiny apartment in San Francisco was perfect for her. She had neighbors she actually knew and friends to spend her time with. It was a cozy peaceful life.

The team kept in touch while they were home but typically by phone, text, or email. Occasionally, they’d get together in DC to meet the other half of their team. But that was usually it.

That’s why she was surprised by a knock on her door and a familiar face one week after their leave had started.

She quirked a brow at the man on the other side of her door. “Top?”

“Jaz,” he said with a friendly smile and a nod.

“What are you doing here?” She asked with a smile and a furrowed brow.

“I’m in town to visit some other friends so I thought…” he said as he let his sentence trail off and pulled a six pack of Coronas from behind his back.

She laughed and nodded. “Nice. We can do better than that, though,” she said as she stepped out of the doorway and motioned him inside. She shut the door behind them and then opened one of her cabinets to reveal a bottle of Crown.

Dalton chuckled and shook his head at her. “Of course.”

Read the rest:

FFN | Ao3

#nbc the brave #the brave #jalton #adam x jaz #anon #gr: prompt game #gr: ask box #gr: my fic #med: tv #tv: the brave #ship: jaz x dalton

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unsocialized-nerd · 7 years ago

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also speaking of The Brave i think they're going to try for a Jaz x Dalton ship and honestly i'm not mad about it

#the brave #the brave nbc #adam dalton #jasmine khan #jaz x dalton #adam x jaz

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daemontargaryenstan · 7 years ago

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I'm so happy to see that more people are active in the tag.. I felt like a loner lol

#adam x jaz #the brave

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winifredwevansedits · 7 years ago

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→ JAZTON || Jaz x Dalton || THE BRAVE || S01E10 || “Would you listen if you were him?”

#jaz x dalton #thebraveedit #mike vogel #adam dalton #adam x jaz #jaz khan #natacha karam #the brave #the brave nbc #jazton #jaztonedit #winifredwevansedits #the more I watch it the more I like it #I have so many feels about each of these scenes...#you have no idea

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chardwic · 7 years ago

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It's fascinating how everyone sleeps differently. I sleep on my back, my friend sleeps on her side, and y'all sleep on The Brave.

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koalathebear · 7 years ago

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The Brave fan fic: Rough Men Stand Ready (Adam Dalton/Jaz Khan)

Title: Rough Men Stand Ready (latest fragment in my fic The Brave: Missing Scenes and Book Ends) Characters: Adam Dalton, Alex Hoffman, Jaz Khan Relationship: Adam Dalton & Jaz Khan, Adam Dalton/Jaz Khan Blurb: Set towards the end of 1.13 Close To Home.

Thanks so much for all the amazing feedback on the fic guys. I am so sorry that real life has been smashing me hard and made it hard to write fic, but I’m hoping I’m back :) Happy to take prompts although I can’t always promise I can write what you want!

Hope you enjoy the latest fic. I’ve added two new ones today.

#the brave #fan fiction #my fic #adam dalton #jaz khan #adam x jaz

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undercoverwatermoon · 7 years ago

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Unexpected Dreams- CH. 2 (Jalton)

WARNING: The rating has been updated to a solid "Explicit" you guys. You've been warned :)

A million apologies for taking so long to update this story. To make it up to all of you, I am posting an extra long chapter, with an added bonus towards the end! (Hint: German Professor Adam!)

There is a lot more of Adam POV in this chapter, and we delve a bit deeper into Jaz's dreams.

SO MANY THANK YOUs to the rest of #TheFab5 ( @icarryyourheart16 , @chibisere23 @stupid-jeans and @kyrieanne) for putting up with ALL my rambling and crazy thoughts about this story. They helped so much that I don't think this chapter would be posted, ever, without them :) And as always, thanks to the awesome Nicole for the detailed and super fast beta!

Enjoy!!

AO3 Link Here

Exhausted, they all tumble out of the humvee and walk towards the picnic area by the Quonset hut. A long, competitive afternoon is behind them, and Team Patton is ready to celebrate their drill day win.

Despite the underlying awkwardness from that morning - that elephant in the room both of them have avoided since Tehran - Adam and Jaz are still a force to be reckoned with as a team on the training field, prompting some griping from the others about unfairness and team assignments being rigged.

Jaz walks ahead of them, muttering something cooking related to Amir. When she huffs out a laugh at Amir’s response, Adam lowers his head with a fond smile. Maybe he’s been reading too much into her actions, or lack thereof. Maybe he’s being paranoid and she’s just going through the normal phases of recovery after Tehran. Maybe none of it has to do with him. Feeling the frown on his face, he schools his expression as he catches up with the team.

“Patton, you’re such a cheater.” McG says, flinging a tactical glove at the dog’s head. Immediately after it lands, Patton snatches it up and runs.

“NO! Patton! Son of a--”

“Let it go, McG. It’s history,” Adam says, beaming proudly as he watches the mutt disappear into the hangar. “Besides, it’s not his fault you couldn’t hold your position quietly.”

McG turns to Adam. “He tickled me with his stupid nose!”

Apparently no one is done enjoying this because they erupt into laughter again, Amir and Jaz holding their stomachs and leaning shoulder to shoulder as they struggle to breathe.

Minutes later, once the jokes have died down, they stand around the picnic table, discussing possible options for the traditional team night out. Team Patton - Adam and Jaz today - is ready to enjoy the spoils of war.

Reaching into her camo backpack, Jaz pulls out her bright turquoise Hydro Flask water bottle - it’s new, and it makes her smile - and notices four pairs of eyes follow her movements as she takes a swig.

“What?” Jaz says warily, wiping at her mouth and eyeing her teammates standing across from the table she’s perched on. Adam is to her left, and as he crosses his arms over his chest, Jaz pivots in the opposite direction. It’s something she’s been doing - standing or sitting with her back to him when they’re not on mission- and Adam frowns, staring at her profile.

“That’s…” McG waves at her water bottle, “...colorful, Jazzy.” He tries to keep his voice neutral but fails miserably. Jaz rolls her eyes, her standard response to most things McG says when they’re not taking fire, but internally she flinches a little.

McG can be ridiculous, but they all seemed to notice the same thing- that the cheerful color is just not her. She remembers handing the $40 to the cashier with such excitement, but now she wavers as her hands wrap protectively around the bright bottle. Is this the new her? Is she now the soldier that wears hot pink underwear to feel feminine and buys eye-catching accessories to...what? Stand out? Hide? Pretend she’s fine? Whatever the answer is, she still has one more question: Why?

Jaz’s body language betrays her thoughts so subtly that only Adam picks up on the slight hesitation - because he notices everything about her these days- before she fires her witty comeback at McG.

“So are your canary yellow Spongebob boxers. What’s your point?” McG points at her, an affronted look on his face.

“Those were a gift, first of all--”

“From your mom,” Amir interrupts with an explanatory nod to the group, and they all chuckle because it’s probably not wrong. McG, however, is undeterred, so he speaks louder over the laughter as he punches Amir in the arm.

“And second...turquoise? Can’t you get your sniper card revoked for that? I thought only black, camo, and army green were approved colors.”

Jaz regards McG, unfazed for a second, then taps her chin and nods.

“Yep. I’ll just order you one then. You’re obviously jealous. Maybe in neon yellow, to match your underwear.”

McG’s grin is wide and triumphant.

“Why are you checking out my underwear, Jazzy? You interested?” His eyebrows raise suggestively, and Jaz’s eyes sparkle with the challenge. Just as she readies her response, a shadow expands in the corner of her eye and a familiar voice interrupts.

“So, Jaz. Are you? Interested?” Dr. Xander Martin points at McG as he asks, and awaits Jaz’s response with a teasing smile.

“In his dreams,” Jaz scoffs, and McG holds a hand to his heart. Laughing now, she turns fully toward Xander and greets him warmly. He says something about a Call of Duty rematch and Jaz asks if he’s prepared to lose again.

Adam watches the interaction with interest from his place now behind Jaz, and he doesn’t know why, but something about it unsettles him. Jaz and McG have always bantered like siblings, and Amir is fitting in better and better each day that passes by.

Preach however, seems a little off- Adam’s caught him giving Jaz that “knowing” look more than once today. Maybe Preach’s insight is exactly what he needs. Making a mental note, Adam shifts his attention back to the group as they start heading inside.

Xander hangs back, arms crossed, probing green eyes focused on Adam as he comes closer.

“Top.”

“You come around looking for patients?” Adam jokes, and Xander chuckles with a nod as he gives the outstretched hand a firm shake.

“Like you? No thanks.”

“You know, screwed up people like me are the reason you have a job. I’d be more careful with the insults,” Adam replies.

“Ah, yes. Supply and demand. I owe you my livelihood.”

“Damn right.” They both smile at that, but Adam knows they’re beating around the bush. Xander sees all, and in a much more infuriating manner than Preach, because observing and analyzing is his job. Adam braces for the question, but is surprised that he finds himself anticipating, rather than dreading it.

“In that case, care to tell me what’s on your mind? We haven’t talked since...” Trailing off, he waves in the general direction of the team walking away, but they both know what he means. Losing Hossein, surviving Iran, and...Jaz.

Adam stuffs his hands in his pockets and averts his eyes. This dynamic between them is always fascinating to him. They can joke one second and discuss the meaning of life the next, and it never feels forced or out of place, even in an open, dusty road in the middle of an Army base.

Over the years, he’s learned two things about Xander Martin: that avoiding him is a waste of time, and that everything he does is always with his best interests at heart, Army requirement or not. When he’d said to Jaz that Xander is good people, he’d meant it. So, he doesn’t deflect or lie.

“Honestly? I’m...I don’t know...I think I need a little time.”

Xander regards him for a second. It is not an overstatement that Adam Dalton has had a rough go in life. Being a special operations psychologist -so focused around post-mission diagnosis, solutions, and results- it’s sometimes easy to forget the incredible hurdles some people overcome just to get here. Nevermind the strength required to recover from the invisible wounds that war can inflict.

The Sgt. Dalton he’d met 15 years ago at SFAS -the one who’d already survived so much grief in his young life- isn’t even in the same galaxy as the Army Captain staring at him now with honest, thoughtful eyes. A true leader, in every sense of the word. So because of this, he lets it go.

“Understood.” Xander finally says, and Adam gives him a grateful smile. “You know where to find me.”

As his long-time friend walks away, Adam looks up at the sky as he exhales a long, slow breath.

It’s time for team night out, and he is ready to unwind. Or at least try.

__________________________________

“You didn’t.” Amir’s horrified expression causes more howling laughter around the high-top table where they’re standing in the crowded bar. Jaz is telling the story of that now-legendary prank she’d pulled on McG after she’d caught him stealing her iced tea, and the medic can’t help but laugh along with them.

“Alright, alright. That was brilliantly evil, Jazzy. I taught you well,” McG says, patting Jaz on the head. Swatting at his hand, she laughs and starts toward the bar in search of another beer.

Adam watches her. Preach watches him.

Amir and McG spot a pool table opening up, and are off to claim it as Adam hangs back, eyes still on Jaz. The bartender says something, and Jaz leans forward on her elbows, most likely to repeat the name of the beer she wants, this weird concoction they import, Adam thinks, rolling the standard IPA bottle between his palms. Predictable Jaz would say, and that makes him smile.

Long moments pass, and then the loud opening chords of the next jukebox song jerk him out of his trance. He looks around quickly, trying to recover from the momentary lapse, and is relieved when he finds Preach apparently immersed in something serious-looking on his phone. Lucky Adam thinks. If Preach had seen him spaced out staring at Jaz, he’d never live it down.

“Hey, Top,” Preach says, patting the stool beside him as Adam approaches him. Noticing the barely touched, almost warm beer in Top’s hand, Preach smiles to himself. It’s about time for some friendly advice, maybe even a little tough love.

Adam considers jumping straight into the topic that’s been dominating his thoughts the past few days. He is no stranger to PTSD, and while he’s not sure Jaz’s odd behavior stems from that, the possibility alone has him on alert.

A dozen questions race in his mind. Has Preach noticed the weirdness with Jaz? What does he think it’s about? Does he think she’s having second thoughts...about the team? About her life here? About him? Instead, he settles for the safest topic he can find.

“Hey, um, the change you made to the comms malfunction drill was clever. No question, the new gear could go haywire during an op like that.”

“Yeah, well. Not like the disruption worked on you and Jaz. From now on, we’re banning telepathy during team competitions.”

Adam’s wistful smile comes and goes in an instant, as he darts a quick glance at his sniper just feet away, waiting on her drink. He wonders if the thoughtful look on her face means she’s considering hopping up to sit on the wood bar top. Distracted, he absentmindedly starts responding.

“We can’t read each other’s--” stopping abruptly, he clears his throat, then mutters, “Well, I can’t…”

When he trails off, Preach notices the clenched jaw, the strain in his forearm muscles. Adam relaxes almost instantly, tapping his fingers against the colored glass, but it’s too late.

“Adam.” The use of his given name always has the desired effect. Top sighs, wondering why he even tries. Preach can read him like a book, and isn’t that why he walked over here in the first place?

“I’m worried, Preach.” That catches the older man a little off guard. Adam’s not even trying to be subtle, which speaks volumes about his state of mind. Still, Preach doesn’t press too hard.

“About what? McG’s susceptibility to street dogs during close quarter combat?”

Adam huffs out an obligatory laugh with a sideways look, and Preach nods as he raises his hands in acquiescence. It’s only been two weeks since Tehran, and Jaz’s recovery has been on everyone’s radar. Even without the intel he’s gathered by watching Adam and Jaz interact recently, Preach would’ve guessed what he’s concerned about.

“Alright. So, you’re worried about Jaz. What’s new?” Adam rolls his eyes, and against his better judgment tries to defend himself.

“I’m not always worr--”

“Top, this conversation will be a lot easier if you at least try to be honest--”

Adam flares. “Hey, I’m not-- ”

“--with yourself.” Preach finishes, knowingly. That seems to halt Adam momentarily, so he continues. “I don’t care what you say to me. I already know the truth. Do you?”

Adam seems to deflate visibly at that, running an impatient hand over his beard. Preach waits, and when Adam doesn’t speak, he prods.

“Tell me about the worst case scenario in your head.”

Adam doesn’t expect that. “What?”

“You’re worried. About Jaz. But what specifically about her? You think she’s slipping? Or you think she’ll shoot you in the ass accidentally?” Air quotes accompany the last word and Adam begrudgingly smiles.

“McG’s rubbing off on you,” Adam mumbles, but Preach knows he’s made his point. None of this conversation has to do with Jaz as a soldier, a professional, a member of the team. Jaz is the best sniper in Special Forces, and they are damn lucky to have her back. What happened in Tehran? It can’t touch any of that.

For a few seconds, Adam looks down, turns the green bottle fast in his hands, watches it spin like his mind.

“What truth?” he finally asks. “What truth do you know that I don’t?”

Preach considers that. It’s possible he might’ve overplayed his hand using that particular phrase. But after witnessing a completely spaced out Jaz that morning, oblivious to everything but Top, he feels a responsibility to the team, to them. Wisdom is knowing when to speak and when to let things be. And Preach is wise. It’s time for a nudge.

“You and Jaz...you trust each other when your lives are on the line. That’s the job. But real life? It’s...not that.”

Preach stands, strolling away casually towards his teammates, leaving Adam to mull over his words.

Real life. What does that even mean for him now? This is his real life. Is it not?

From experience, he knows there’s an ocean of difference between the connections that form after trauma, and the organic nature of normal friendships. So, him and Jaz. Are they bound to each other due to circumstance? If they weren’t soldiers, teammates, commanding officer and subordinate, would they meet at a bar or a restaurant and bond over everyday things?

Whatever the answer, Adam only knows one truth. Real or not, Jaz has become an essential piece of this pie chart he thinks of as his life. Obviously, a much larger piece than he’d realized. And the idea that the fallout from Iran might threaten that? He won’t allow it.

Jaz’s distant laugh interrupts his escalating thoughts. Startled, he lifts his head, eyes searching for her. He finds her leaning casually against the rounded edge of the bar, staring up at some stranger’s face.

The tall, well dressed guy -probably some IT contractor or a businessman- smiles down at her, his body language making his intentions clear as day. When he reaches inside his jacket pocket, Adam jumps to his feet, but freezes when he notices a harmless pen emerge. Not a threat.

Oblivious, Jaz looks down, clearly radiating amusement instead the annoyance Adam finds himself hoping for. The clean-cut man scribbles on the white napkin next to her beer. Adam shifts uncomfortably on his feet, taking a couple steps toward the pool table where Preach and McG are standing, as if he was headed there the whole time.

Surely, Adam thinks, Jaz will offer a polite smile and chuck the napkin when the guy turns around, like he’s seen her do countless times. But she tucks it safely in her jacket pocket instead, zipping it closed with a curious smile on her face, and it’s the second time tonight Adam has to force his body to relax.

Jaz is quiet, but pleasant, the rest of the night. Adam steals quick glances in her general direction, pretending he’s keeping watch over the front door to their left. She seems lost in thought, occasionally chuckling or interjecting one-word answers.

Since he’s known her, Jaz has always been an all or nothing kind of girl. Present or absent, engaged or disengaged. As her CO, his entire management strategy around her is based on this fact. Jaz is black and white. No gray area. No compromise.

But this Jaz, the one weaving in and out of his private thoughts, this is not the Jaz he’s used to. A whole new side of her is starting to show -since Iran- and it makes him wonder if a real friend would behave like him, watching from the sidelines while she morphs into whoever she’s gonna be.

As his internal dialogue takes on a life of its own, Preach regales Amir with more old team stories and McG tells inappropriate jokes. Before they know it, it’s time to head back to base.

Outside, they near their SUV parked on the street, and Jaz moves to take a seat in the back.

“Your long legs fit better in the front,” she tells Preach as she closes the car door.

Because he’s wise, Preach doesn’t miss a beat. McG and Amir follow his lead. “Not gonna complain.”

Adam hides his disappointment well as he climbs into the driver’s seat, but his hands tremble almost imperceptibly around the wheel.

On the ride home, it takes all his willpower to stop himself from looking back at her through the rearview mirror.

____________________________________

It’s late, and Adam tosses and turns in bed. Sleep has slowly returned to normal for him since Tehran -although the nightmares are not entirely gone, they are manageable now- but tonight, his mind is wide awake. He refuses to think about why, knowing it will take him down a path he just doesn’t feel ready to consider yet.

Jaz, standing at that bar tonight, smiling -genuinely this time- at another man. It’s not like she’s not approached on a regular basis when they go out. Jaz is beautiful, and there’s never a shortage of men circling around. Still, she’s never entertained any of them. Not on deployment. Or at least, not when she’s out with the team. With him.

Enough. God, he needs to clear his head. Shuffling out into the hallway, thinking a quick walk outside will help, he’s puzzled when he finds her door across from his slightly ajar.

A faint noise from the kitchen draws his full attention, and he quietly moves in that direction, reaching the living area in time to see Jaz walking away, crossing the plastic strip curtain, headed outside. Indecision paralyzes him briefly, but he follows her, feeling silly about spying, but unable - or unwilling- to make his body turn around.

He finds her sitting on the picnic table, legs crossed, her profile visible to him from his hidden spot by the door. Briefly, he worries she’ll notice him -because ninja skills- but after a few moments he thinks he’s safe, and finds himself just watching her. Memories of their talk by the fire wash over him, unabated, as he takes her in. When did this start to happen exactly? This need to be around her, understand her? Have her understand him?

The late evening breeze blows softly, the hair around her face fluttering, and his eyes focus on something square and white in her hand, the soft edges flapping lightly in the wind. From his position, he can’t read her facial expression, her long thick hair covering most of her profile, but her head is tilted down. The way his stomach drops when he realizes what’s in her hand doesn’t entirely surprise him now. A napkin. Most likely the one from the bar, with someone else’s phone number scribbled on it.

Preach’s words from earlier ring in his ears…what exactly is “real”? And if it’s not this... does Jaz want whatever real may be? Does he?

_____________________________________

The next morning, Jaz walks back from her morning run, and the 12’ x 12’ plankwood square that serves as their storage space on base catches her eye. The door is ajar, and seconds later she finds herself inside. Shuffling around the grimy, dark room, breathing in and out, gliding her fingers over the dusty edges of the cardboard boxes neatly piled and catalogued.. Not looking for anything in particular, she wonders what she’s even doing here.

A single box she finds halfway open draws her attention- “Undercover Props / Accessories” it reads in scrambled sharpie ink on the outside. Adam’s scribble. A few rows of bulk cleaning supply boxes are lined up next to it, and that old couch Elijah had begged them to replace frames the back wall. When she inches closer, a flash of light reflecting on something like glass catches her eye, and she reaches inside for it instantly.

Staring at the rimless, fake reading glasses- Adam’s- in her hand, her mind flashes back to that busy Tehran airport, the smell of jet fuel, sounds of rolling luggages and high pitched chatter. Closing her eyes she can recall every detail. It makes her stomach flutter, but not from the thoughts she expects- the botched jump from the hotel window, the torture room designed to strip her raw, or the almost impossible rescue by her guys.

Instead, she recalls unexpected images, grainy black and white daydreams. Adam’s strong hand on the small of her back, his warm breath on her cheek, the intoxicating feel of soft lips and his scratchy beard against her skin. None of these are details she consciously noticed at the time -her focus had been on playing the role, making it through customs untouched.

A mild sense of unease creeps in as she becomes aware of her thoughts. Her dreams- and fantasies lately -have been full of... this, she thinks a little bitterly. Loaded with an undecipherable fusion of images and thoughts and feelings that feel disjointed and unnatural to her.

Memories after a traumatic event can be a tricky thing, Xander says. It appears he’s right again.

She remembers sitting in her room that day, staring at the clothes she’d picked for their flight into Tehran, and feeling nervous and a little excited about the undercover assignment as Adam’s wife. The memories are murky- chronological snapshots of that morning’s events flashing in her mind -but what strikes her now is the feeling that comes with them, the emotion that floods her so unexpectedly as she stands there, lost in thought, in the middle of that dusty room with Adam’s glasses in her hand.

She’d felt...safe that day; walking through the shiny white corridors along the crowded airline terminals, Adam by her side, holding her hand. As dangerous as she knew it was, she couldn’t recall a mission where she’d felt more prepared. A 650 yard shot- she could execute that in her sleep. An airtight escape plan- undercover couple assignments were practically their specialty by now. The world a little safer with Jarif dead - finally getting justice for her fellow servicemen fallen at that beach.

The humorless chuckle escapes her as her focus returns to the present, a fingertip tracing the edge of the lenses’ frame. How wrong had she been.

Chatter from some soldiers discussing the lack of adequate soap choices at the PX makes her snicker, and she wonders how long she’s been in the storage room. With a quick shake of her head, she moves toward the open box to put away the glasses, but her hand freezes just above the opening.

No one will know if you take them.

The thought - and the accompanying chill down her spine- startle her. Jaz is not sentimental about these things, so it makes no sense that she can’t make her fingers loosen around the folded thin temples of the glasses. Even more illogical is that leaving them in that box feels like leaving him .

You’re being ridiculous she chastises herself, forcing her fingertips to let go, but the moment the glasses fall between Top’s go-to gray scarf and that curly hair wig she hates, she knows they’re going with her.

Walking out of the storage room, one hand wrapped around the smuggled prize in her pocket, Jaz runs straight into Adam.

“Hey,” Adam says. Calm, collected and steady. Under his piercing stare her cheeks start to burn.

“Hi.” Jaz says, scanning the space around him as if assessing threat levels. Adam wants to touch her shoulder, get her attention, so he shoves his hands in his pockets instead.

“You find any treasure?”

“What?” It’s a little too quick, and Adam’s eyes narrow. Widening his stance, he considers her for a moment before waving a listless hand at the structure behind her.

“In the storage room?” Jaz just stares, so he continues. “You just walked out of--”

“Ah, yes.” She interjects, recovering with a nod. “No, I didn’t.”

“What were you looking for? Maybe I can help.” Damn him and his perseverance. The hand in her pocket squeezes involuntarily, reminding her to relax.

“Oh no. I found it.” Adam is visibly confused, so she amends, “I mean...I have what I need. Back in my quarters. I don’t even know why I...went in there.” The last few words uttered as she moves to walk away.

“Okay…” But it’s not, he thinks, and his brow furrows further. What does she have back in her quarters? And for what mission? DC hasn’t called in the three days since they’re last mission. On instinct, he takes a quick step to the side and blocks her path.

Jaz feels her temper begin to wind. All she wants is to be left alone with her illogical thoughts and inconvenient feelings, and yet, here’s Adam, being his steady, thoughtful self and her hand is burning in her pocket, and she just wants to snap.

“Did you need something, Top?” A bit sharper than she intended. Adam straightens.

“No, I just--”

“Because it seems you were waiting for me. Out here.” Adam starts to smile sheepishly, but stops at her look.

“Yeah. Listen, Jaz--”

“I’m fine.” Jaz interrupts, calmer now, realizing that flipping out on him only increases the chances he’ll figure out what she’s carrying in her pocket, and in her mind.

“Last night you were pretty quiet.” When she meets his eyes he feels the need to clarify. “At the bar.”

That catches Jaz off guard. Of course he meant at the bar , where else would she have been quiet last night that he would’ve noticed? Her head tilts, processing the information, and he swallows before averting his eyes so briefly she almost misses it. Whatever that’s about she’ll have to find out another time. Right now, she needs some space.

“I was tired. Listen, Top...” Adam waits.

Taking a deep breath, Jaz blinks a few times. She doesn’t want to have this conversation- about her fruitless attempts at distracting herself from thoughts of him- but if she doesn’t give him something concrete, they will dance this dance until she loses her mind. So, just like the morning before, she decides a partial truth is better than a lie.

“I just feel...different. That’s all. I’m working through it.”

“Different how?” There’s something like distant panic in his chest at her explanation, and it all starts to jumble in his head -Preach’s words about real life, spying on her under the stars, visions of her calling that other guy- but he catches himself, and offers an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s fine,” she dismisses with a wave, and vaguely registers that her temper has all but vanished at the depth of his concern. “Just...you’re gonna have to trust me.”

“I do.” The lack of hesitation draws out a small smile as she looks up at him.

“Thanks.” Adam nods, and steps out of her way, following her with his eyes until she’s out of sight.

_____________________________________

The rest of the day is mostly routine. A solid morning run, sparring with her guys, chores and maintenance checklists for weapons and equipment, a short trip into the city for lunch and supplies. But now, as Jaz moves through her room preparing for bed, she feels anything but normal. Slipping on a worn long sleeve tee and tugging up her flannel pants, the barrage of thoughts and feelings that have swirled within her the past few weeks weigh heavily on her mind.

Tying her hair up in a pineapple bun, she plops down on the edge of her bed and her eyes can’t help glancing at the bedside table compartment where Adam’s glasses are now stashed away. She tells herself that she should be sleeping already, but her hand pulls the drawer open and a second later her finger traces the metallic edge around the lenses. Unbidden, a soft memory from hours before that fateful flight into Iran floats through her mind.

“Hey, Mrs. You ready?” Adam walks in, dressed in his preppy professor outfit, and Jaz grins.

“Well, well, professor. Been a while since you’ve gotten to play dress up.” Jaz eyes him up and down, and he smiles indulgently.

“Been a while since you’ve gotten to play wife.” She catches the smirk on his face as he turns to drape his jacket over the kitchen table chair.

“Such a privilege.” Jaz deadpans. Adam simply raises an eyebrow at that, and gestures toward her hand.

“The ring to your satisfaction, dear?” Jaz stretches her hand out and eyes her ring finger suspiciously as she shrugs.

“This cracker jack ring?” Adam chuckles. “It’s okay. For a professor’s salary, I suppose.”

When he doesn’t reply, she looks at him, and finds him lost in thought - that soft “Adam smile” she rarely gets to see visible on his face. Preach’s voice as he walks into the kitchen breaks Adam out of his trance and he walks away quickly, without meeting her eyes. Before she can process those last few seconds, Preach distracts her with talk about comms and Iran’s latest airport security protocols, and Jaz never gives Adam’s hasty exit a second thought.

Until now. The easy banter between them that day belied the seriousness and danger of the task they were about to take on. But it hadn’t mattered. Not then. Those moments - memories - feel so precious to her now. A reminder of a time when she could be around Adam, casually, without every nerve ending in her body awakening; without her thoughts drifting to the future possibilities, or lack thereof, between them.

Them. A kind of sadness swells inside her as she considers that. Somewhere deep down she knows the idea of Top as more than her CO has been dangerously hovering near the fringes of her conscious mind longer than she’d care to admit.

These days, though, it seems like the proverbial Pandora’s box has exploded inside her, and all the wishes she’s spent her life holding at arm’s length are now roaming around freely, mockingly staring her in the face.

She wants her simpler life back. The one where she felt balanced, prepared, in control. That black and white life where all but her next breath was expendable. This desire growing inside her- the idea that she could have more than just the Army as the backbone of her life - it translates into one thing and one thing only in her mind: risk.

Shaking her head, she stuffs the glasses in the drawer and flops backwards on the bed. Sergeant Khan, she mentally admonishes herself, get your shit under control. Now.

Satisfied with her stern internal dialogue, Jaz burrows under the covers, but as she reaches to turn off the lamp, she catches a glimpse of her bright turquoise water bottle and smiles. Maybe some changes haven’t been entirely bad.

The darkness and quiet seep in slowly as sleep overtakes her. And in spite of her logical conclusion that a simpler life is what she should want, the last conscious thought that swims in her mind’s eye is of Adam’s smile.

_____________________________________

“Jaz, what the…” The words die in his throat as his capable, lethal sniper struts into the room, wearing the shortest skirt he’s sure she’s ever owned, and a white button down shirt that barely covers her midriff.

“Yes, professor.” Adam’s hands ball tightly at his sides at the sultry tone in her voice, and he watches Jaz advance toward him. Slowly. Eyes on him.

“You don’t have to call me--”

“I want to.” Well damn. Adam swallows and manages to point at the classroom chair a few feet in front of him, but his eyes are locked on the exposed skin of her legs.

“There are… um, papers, uh, that list of...things for, um, today…” German language prep, is what he means to say -Jaz has been working on German quals and he’s been helping her in their free time- but his brain is scrambling to stay somewhat focused and the pitiful attempt is not successful at all.

Alarm bells start ringing in his head as she bypasses the chair and comes around to sit on the corner of the desk.

“I thought maybe we could...improvise.” It has the desired effect and Jaz smirks as she watches him take in a shaky deep breath. Momentarily, a fleeting thought reminds her of the last time they’d improvised. In Tehran. But right now, Adam is standing there in that checkered button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up with his veined, muscled forearms flexing as he tries to reign himself in, and Jaz just can’t find it in herself to give a fuck about Iran.

Still staring at his hands, Adam replies, “Uh, yeah. Well, no--” he shakes his head “--we should follow the---”

“Adam.” At the sound of his name, he turns his head to look her in the eye, gripping the edge of the desk almost painfully now. Jaz leans her upper body closer, staring up at him through thick, long lashes. She’s got him right where she wants him, and the anticipation bursts in her chest as her eyes explore his familiar face.

When she scoots over to the right, closer and closer to where he’s standing, Adam instinctively lets go of the desk and plops down on the chair behind him.

“Jaz, we should probably---”

“The door is locked. The guys are out at that beach soccer tournament.” Methodically, she’s been rearranging her position so that she’s sitting on the edge of the desk now, right in front of him. Long, lean legs crossed at the ankles, swinging back and forth playfully.

“It’s just you and me.”

Adam tries to speak, but no words come out. Instead his eyes roam over her, hungry and dark, and Jaz has to press her thighs together to stave off the want. Adam is slowly unraveling, fidgeting a little wildly and squirming in the leather chair, and Jaz thinks he’s never looked more unpredictable.

“Will you do something for me?” That gets his attention and his eyes fly up to hers. She reaches inside her white button shirt between her breasts, eyes never leaving his, and pulls out the familiar pair of glasses he’d worn that day in Tehran. Adam’s mouth opens slightly, and when she bends down to place the glasses on his face, Adam freezes as his gaze locks on the visible edges of the white lace bra under her shirt.

Jaz hums appreciatively at the sight of him and licks her lips on instinct, tracing her fingers lightly down along his cheeks, over his beard, caressing that distracting bottom lip of his with her thumb as she straightens.

“Where, um…how did you get…” Right now, he couldn’t string a sentence together to save his life.

“Lucky treasure hunt. Adam...” The soles of the white tennis shoes she’s wearing are now resting on his knees, and his body just moves on autopilot, leaning towards her like metal to a magnet. The leather chair slides forward as Adam runs his large calloused hands softly over her shins, around the back to cup her calves, squeezing involuntarily as he looks up at her, questioning.

“Jaz?”

“Please,” she breathes while leaning back, hands on the desk behind her for support. When he pushes her legs back and open, and anchors her feet on the edge of the desk, her head falls back with a slightly desperate moan. The sudden rush of air over her hot, aching center shocks her, but Adam’s deep raspy growl drowns out her strangled cry as he takes in the full sight of her.

“Fuck, Jaz…” Feeling the suddenly intense grip of his hands around her ankles, she chuckles triumphantly because that’s the exact reaction she’d imagined when she’d chosen to forego wearing panties under her bright pink tennis skirt.

“Surprise.” Jaz’s voice trembles with anticipation, and because she can feel his warm breath so close to where she needs him, her hips roll forward on instinct, back arching, searching for the feel of his mouth on her. It’s his turn to grin now at her disapproving whine, because payback is only fair and he’s going to take his time savoring this. Her.

Closing his eyes for a second, he takes in her scent- she’s been wet for him for hours it seems, and it makes his cock painfully hard. He’s immersed in the experience of her, the sighs and deep breaths as he rubs his beard over the perfectly smooth skin of her inner thighs.

Traveling up her silky tanned legs, his hands come to rest over her knees for a second before pushing gently, opening her wider to his gaze.

“God.. Adam, please…” Jaz has been planning this for days, dreaming about it, and if he doesn’t touch her soon- really touch her- she will implode.

“Shhh… Sei geduldig .” He tells her to be patient, in fucking German, and Jaz feels the heat low in her belly grow into wildfire. Without warning, he runs his tongue from her opening up to her clit and closes his lips around it, sucking hard.

The incoherent rambling coming from her lips is enough to make him lose some of his self-control, but he’s ready for her, and holds her in place easily as she jerks against his mouth, chasing the pleasure, moaning his name.

“Adam...I need.. Please… now.” Two fingers slide inside her, rough and fast, curling as he feels her clenching, and not a minute passes before stars explode behind her eyes, body going limp.

“Wow.”

“Just wow? Ouch.” Adam jokes, looking down at her, relaxed and beautiful, thick black hair fanning around her on the desk.

Jaz rolls her eyes and offers a mischievous grin. “That was a good start.”

It reminds him there’s still way too many clothes between them, and his eyes darken behind the glasses as Jaz hooks her legs around his waist for leverage, comes up to snake her arms around his neck, and pulls his face down for a kiss.

Adam makes quick work of her shirt and bra, and when she moves to take off the skirt bunched around her waist he breaks the kiss and stops her with his hand. “Leave it.”

At her raised eyebrow, he touches a finger to the glasses on his face and explains, “You’re not the only that’s fantasized about this...us.” He emphasizes that last word with a pointed look - his attempt at communicating so much more than he’s able to verbalize just then- and Jaz bites her lip.

“Good.” That’s all she can manage, because his familiar piercing stare that’s always felt a bit unnerving but reassuring, is doing nothing but making her wet and desperate for him again.

“So, professor,” her wicked smirk sends a blinding spark of need straight to his groin, “you gonna stand there and talk, or show me how it’s done?”

“Jesus, Jaz…” Adam growls as he threads his fingers through her hair, closes his fists around it, and proceeds to devour her mouth. Jaz never knew a kiss could feel like this, and while her head is swimming in delirious bliss, her hands are busy ridding him of his clothes.

The moment she wraps her fingers around his cock, Adam opens his mouth and inhales sharply, lips still brushing against hers.

“Fuck, Jaz...yes, baby….” Jaz hums her approval as he sweeps her tongue inside her mouth, and sucks on his bottom lip one more time before breaking the contact.

“Condom. Now. Drawer.” Adam fumbles to find it, too blind with desire to even register that she’d put it there purposely. Just how long has she been planning this?

“Let me.” Taking the foil square from him, Jaz rips it open. Adam brings his forehead down against hers, wide blue eyes focused on her slender fingers rolling the condom over his cock, and he thinks he won’t live another minute without burying himself deep inside her.

“Fuck me, Adam,” Jaz whispers as she looks up at him with hooded eyes, and that hot coil of desire low in his belly grows so strong he feels like a geyser on the inside, ready to erupt.

Spreading his legs wider, he leans his thighs against the desk, and brings his cock to her entrance. With a rough desperate hand on her ass, he pulls her forward to the edge, and then finally sinks into her, hard and fast.

Holding her head firmly in place with his other hand, Adam thrusts his tongue into her mouth in a blinding kiss. Jaz holds onto his shoulders for leverage, nails digging in, begging for speed as she tightens her legs around his waist.

The need for air forces them apart briefly as the pleasure and sensations overwhelm them both. Slurred, incoherent half-words mix in with the sound of their hips slamming against each other, filling the silence in the room.

“Oh, god. Jaz…you feel… incredible.”

“Don’t stop, please...Adam… more...”

Adam tucks his face in her neck, sucking and licking at her sweet-scented skin, and Jaz bites down on his earlobe, whispering unintelligibly as she nears her breaking point.

She meets him thrust for thrust a few more times, and together they slam into oblivion.

Later, Jaz lays straddling Adam’s thighs, sated and content. He traces small circles on her back, restless fingers teasing the hem of the pink skirt gathered around her waist.

“Don’t think my brain can take any german right now.” Adam’s laugh rumbles in his chest and she rubs her nose against the hollow of his neck.

The silence stretches between them. “I can hear you thinking, Top.”

The sound of his nickname on her lips is jarring. Reality explodes around her. God, what has she done? But she is frozen now, unable to make a sound as her brain runs through the countless ways this could go so very wrong.

Jaz is still, her insides now cold as ice. Adam shifts slightly in place, and exhales an agonizingly slow breath.

“I think---”

_____________________________________

“What? You think what?” Jaz murmurs as the embers of the dream dissipate and her eyes open to the stark, cold darkness of her quarters. A deep sense of dread envelops her as she registers the way her thighs are pressed together, her soaked underwear, and the vivid images in her mind of pink skirts, those damn glasses, and Adam’s face buried between her legs.

“God…” She breathes, still so aroused, and horrified. She rubs at her eyes with one hand as she fumbles for her phone to check the time. What the fuck was that, Jaz?

4:55 AM.

Time for a damn run.

#Unexpected Dreams #The Brave #NBC The Brave #Jalton #Adam x Jaz #Jaz x Adam #Preach #Amir #McG #UndercoverWatermoon Fic #German Professor Adam #Adam's Glasses

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