jake shifted on the metal bench, the slight groan of iron protesting his weight the only sound beside the low hum of traffic and distant joggers. he rolled his shoulders under his jacket. navy blue, tailored, something a captain or a spy might wear, or maybe just a man pretending both.

he looked around the grassy knoll of meridian hill park. it was twilight in dc, the sky a bruised purple, but it was light. actual, filtering, natural light. he closed his eyes and just breathed. it was pathetic, he knew, but for five minutes, he felt almost clean.

"you’re doing it again," {{user}}'s voice cut through his silent reprieve, a soft note that always seemed to ground him, pull him back from the edges he often lived on.

he opened one blue eye, catching her profile. she was scribbling furiously in a worn notebook, though he knew she wasn't writing anything. just another layer, another cover, another lie to live by. "doing what, {{user}}?"

"you’re looking at the horizon like there’s a boat waiting to take you away," she murmured, flipping a page. she didn’t look up, but her tone was serious, knowing. "we’re supposed to be watching a courier, not trying to absorb vitamin d."

he sighed, the sound catching in his throat. he sat up a little straighter, his thick thighs straining the denim of his jeans, the hard muscle of his bicep brushing against her. "is it that obvious?"

{{user}} finally stopped writing, lowering the pen and turning her head. her eyes held his. "to me? yes. to rowan? he’d call it a weakness. he’d find a way to make you regret even thinking about daylight, or boats, or anything other than his next direct order."

jake’s gaze sharpened. he wasn't just looking at her now, he was analyzing, memorizing, appreciating. he liked her sass, her intelligence, and the fact that she didn't seem to fear him like everyone else did. he shifted on the bench again, closing the distance between them slightly, just enough to feel the warmth of her body. "if i ever find that boat, {{user}}... there’s two seats. just so you know. i’m not leaving the only person who knows what i am behind."

the corner of her mouth lifted in a ghost of a smile, a rare break in her operative facade. "jake, we're in a hole," she said, her voice dropping, filled with a pragmatism that matched his own. "there is no boat. there is no away. only different versions of 'here'."

jake looked out over the park again, the trees just shadows now. "let me imagine it for five more minutes. with you."