The Soldier and The Spy: Jay Halstead- Episode 2

Chapter 6

Present Day

"You know it's okay to be nervous."

"I'm not."

Well that was bullshit.

Tess had been staring into her closet for ten minutes and for a woman who usually got dressed in two that was a long time, not that he was complaining- her return was still new enough that Jay was drinking in every glimpse of her he could get, especially when there wasn't much to obscure his view. Even if the scar from where she'd been impaled still made his stomach churn, and his eyes always hurried over the one down her spine. She had so many now. And he didn't like the stories behind any of them. Still they were a part of her, and he would never ask her to cover them, but he didn't think Hermann would appreciate it if she showed up to Molly's naked.

He was finally taking her.

Which was why he understood her nerves- he shared them.

"I'm not."

Shit.

Had he said that out loud?

He'd been doing that a lot lately. He always did around her.

"I mean obviously it's going to be awkward but once everyone gets a couple drinks in them I'm sure we'll all get along great."

He looked up in time to catch her grin and found himself matching it. That was true. And she was right, most likely everything was going to be fine but... damn if it wasn't going to be uncomfortable. He knew that. So did she. So why didn't she want to admit it?

"I just want it to go as smoothly as it can."

Tess gazed at him softly, steadily, and some of his concern wavered.

Maybe she was fine.

After all, what were a couple of drinks to her?

That was truer than he liked to think about but as she pulled on a top, the brightness of the white material making the phoenix on her chest even more striking he couldn't help it.

So much. She'd been through so much.

Nine hours. That was how long she'd been impaled, waiting on a team that was looking for her in the wrong place. Nine hours bleeding out, conscious right until rescue arrived. When... when she'dseenhim. Telling her to come home. Giving her the strength to save herself. All just days before he'd been shot; when he'd woken from surgery her face had been the first thing he'd seen and he hadn't stopped seeing it for days. Or hearing her voice. Telling him to hold on. To wait. God he was so happy he had. But he still couldn't help thinking it hadn't been enough. The scar on her spine had come from a Bratva enforcer, as had the one on her thigh. Myasnik. The Butcher. A man she told him 'saw the art in his craft'. Jay had had nightmares about what that meant, and it didn't help when he woke to find her soothing them away. He'd taken her, tortured her for information, for pleasure, but apparently had only had her for a few hours before he'd been forced to let her go by the same man who'd helped to smooth things over for them last week. Dimitri Vasiliev, one of Russia's most influential mob bosses. One of Russia's most influential mob bosses was her friend, as apparently were members of all kinds of organizations, global and local, even political.

She'd said she'd made herself known but he hadn't realized just what that meant. It reminded him so much of Voight, and yet he knew his Sergeant had never been subjected to the things she had.

Several of her fingers had been broken. Again. Her wrists. Ankles. An arm and a leg, the same one as last time. So many concussions he wasn't entirely joking when he teased her for spacing out. And that was just the physical injuries- God only knew what kind of mental torture she'd endured. But it hadn't been all bad. Tess was adamant that for every dark story she shared a light one, like how she'd gone cliff jumping in Greece or eaten a tarantula in Cambodia, how she'd made friends with a seal in Australia; he'd already memorized the sound of her laugh in the video Vivienne had taken of her and her slippery admirer.