The Soldier and The Spy: Jay Halstead- Episode 2

Chapter 8

"What the hell are you doing?" He shouted as she ran down into the yard, her arms spread wide as if she'd catch the falling drops.

She was insane.

Completely insane.

"What does it look like?"

"Like you're trying to get struck by lightning!"

Part of him was legitimately concerned, this storm was intense, but the other part just couldn't stop watching her. This was a version of Tess he hadn't seen before. Not really, just glimpses here and there, like when she'd gone toe to toe with Bronson or when he'd spied on her sparring with Nysa, or when she'd showed off all the supplies she'd stolen from the Taliban camp. This wasn't the girl he'd come to know it was the woman, strong and wild and every bit as untamed as this storm. This was the woman he'd seen through his scope. The one he'd fallen in love with. He loved the girl too but that had been slower, quieter and softer.

But this?

His heart whispered the word but his mind refused to acknowledge it and then Tess tipped her head back down and all that power was suddenly trained on him, so strong his knees wobbled and then she smiled and the breath was knocked right out of him. At least until he caught sight of that wicked gleam as she began to back up towards the gate.

"At least stay in the yard!"

She may be the most incredible woman he'd ever met but she was also going to give him a heart attack.

He ran down the steps to grab her but then all he could do was stare. Jesus her eyes were blue. Bluer than blue, bluer than the bluest gemstone. Jay didn't stand a chance against those eyes. So, he didn't bother to fight, just closed his own, tipped his head back to the sky and took in the feeling of the rain as it washed over him.

It felt better than he'd thought it would- it reminded him of that flower he often saw when scouting in the densest parts of the mountains, the little purple one. It was tiny, no bigger than his thumb, but whenever it rained it would bloom and come alive. Jay felt a bit like that flower, wilted and withering and found himself falling into the rain, into each drop as it landed on his skin. Into the woman in his arms. He didn't know how long they stood there but when he found himself looking back down she was already staring up at him, those big blue eyes soft and caring.

"I used to do this with my mom."

Her voice may have been gentle but her words hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Whenever it stormed we'd go out, and sometimes the winds would be so strong they'd push us down the street, and if one of us had had a bad day, or a bad week or bad month we'd yell. Curse at the top of our lungs until we felt better, until the rain carried it all away."

He could picture it. A little fifteen-year-old Tess, swearing like the sailors on the base near where she'd grown up- innocent as she may look she had a mouth on her. He had the feeling she'd gotten it from her mother and could just imagine them side by side, exhausted but smiling when they got home and took the hot chocolate her father would've had waiting. It was a nice picture, but it made the hole inside him ache.

"You can. But I promise you'll be stronger if you do. You'll be happier."

He didn't want to.

He didn't want to feel it.

He didn't want to lose it. What would he have of her then?