jim street oneshots

undercover dramatics [ ❥ ]

The sun blares down on you with a vengeance as you stroll down the sidewalk, the flimsy set of dollar store sunglasses on your eyes doing little to spare you from the glare.

You're dressed in one of the department's less favourable undercover outfits - a worn Lakers jersey that you think could be older than you, a pair of threadbare cutoff jeans and beat-up sneakers with soles so thick they almost trip you as you stride up to the surveillance van and climb into the passenger side door.

Street casts a quick look at you from the driver's seat, where he's hunched over the binoculars in his hands. Other surveillance equipment is littered across the dashboard and the console, most of them showing blank screens and dead activity as they have for most of the time you've both spent sat here over the last day.

His eyes zero in on the two takeout bags in your lap, and the two cans of pop in your hand. Like he hasn't been fed in a month, he makes a grab for the bags. You swat at his hand, tsking at him and grinning when he pouts like a bold child.

"Christ, I didn't think that a day in this damn can would be enough to make you crack up." You pass him the food, smiling when he bumps your shoulder with his in thanks.

Protein bars and the food that Hondo had packed for you both had only kept you tided over for so long before you'd been dispatched in search of some real food for you both. You'd settled on one of Street's favourite burger joints in the area, hoping it would score you some brownie points for the inevitable bickering that had come as a result of being stuck in such a small space together for so long. And judging by his gleeful reaction, it had done just the trick.

"Not to be drastic", he says through a mouthful of fries, "But I would jump off of a cliff for you. Like, seriously."

"You sure you know what 'not drastic' means?" You shoot him a look that's quickly followed by a smile. "And besides, you'd jump off a cliff for fun."

A muffled probably is all you get in reply. With a chuckle you dig into your own food, checking the monitors as you eat.

The relief team wouldn't be coming until nightfall, so that meant at least another six hours of sitting on this cartel stash house until either the team came to replace you or something kicked off. After thirty hours sitting in place, you didn't know which outcome you were hoping for.

A groan of boredom falls from your lips, prompting Street to look over at you with an amused expression.

"You really that tired of me?" He puts a hand on your thigh as he leans across you to grab a file off the dash, lingering long enough to let his eyes flicker up and down your form. "Don't ever recall you complaining about being stuck alone with me before."

"S'not you I'm tired of", you yawn with flushed cheeks, stretching as best you can in the cramped cabin. "Just wish something would happen, I'm getting so damn bo- "

As if on queue, one of the radios comes alive with chatter. A sensor on the perimeter had picked up some chatter, and the infrared scanner was showing a large group of suspects heading straight for you from a side alley. You're sitting ducks as it is, and you and Street spare no time in jumping to action.

In between radioing in the situation and loading his piece, he manages to glare over at you and utter something under his breath about you being nothing but trouble.

You shoot him a grin, reaching for your sidearm under the seat as he glares at you. "Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, now don't I?"