Polished [a 39 Clues fanfic]

Trojan War

A/N: Sorry for the late updates guys, I've been sick all month and refusing to go to the doctor for real presription medication. Anyways, I've finished the demon report and will resume efforts to stock up chapters so I can update more often. Enjoy this one!

Words: 1488

A knock resounded from the door. Hamilton announced his presence softly, "Yeah!"

Jake slid into the room and glanced at Amy's sleeping form. He made eye contact with Hamilton, who was sitting close by her side,  which, if the clenching of his jaw was any indication, did not fly well with him. As if he felt the hostility, Hamilton held Jake's gaze, a challenge igniting in his eyes.

The beginnings of a silent battle went unacknowledged as Jake casually strode over to the bed. "I can take over here," he offered. Hamilton shook his head, not taking his eyes off Amy.

Wordlessly, he watched as Hamilton moved to take the towelette off her forehead, the sound of the bed creaking and Amy's rhythmic breathing the only noise in the room.

"Why are you doing this?" Jake had to ask, his arms crossed, looking perplexed.

"Doing what? Taking care of her?" Hamilton bounced back, the sarcasm in his tone evident. This time he did turn his gaze to Jake, staring him down, dissecting him with a watchful eye.

Jake shrugged. He looked indignant, but said nothing as he judged the situation in front of him. He couldn't explain the feeling of loss gaping in his chest. It was a feeling he had long gotten accustomed to, but seeing Amy at the hands of another guy sent shudders down his spine. He tried to reason with himself, because how could he lose someone who was never truly his? (Though he liked to think that had the situation been a little different, they would've worked perfectly.) After an insubstantial amount of consideration, he couldn't help from blurting, "Do you really like her?"

Hamilton startled. At first he seemed put off by the sudden question – but it quickly morphed to a more relaxed expression. He seemed to be contemplating the definite answer for the present as he studied Amy's peaceful face, but his answer has always been definite. "Yeah," he confirmed before he turned, putting his challenge into words, "Why, you still into her?"

At the implication, Jake's expression flickered with emotion. "We dated, but it's not like the circumstances really allowed the relationship, or any relationship at all, to last."

"Well, there's a reason for everything, bud."

Ignoring the comment, Jake continued unfazed, "I was planning on asking her out again."

The room fell silent again. The two studied each other, both wanting to say more, neither finding the words tactful enough not to start a fight.

After a moment's hesitation, Hamilton retorted, "Get in line."

Jake sighed. He seemed exasperated that his point was not getting across. "Stop this, Holt. You're not serious about her. You'll end up hurting her," his voice rough and his eyes stormy. "Even if you don't intend to."

Hamilton glared. "Don't try to tell me what I feel," he snapped. "I do like her." His tone softened marginally when he chanced a glance of Amy. "Let her go."

"You think it's that easy to get over her?" Jake scoffed. "You're just infatuated. What, she's pretty enough so you chase after her? I don't know if you noticed, but I like her for her." The thought vaguely flitted across her mind that they were being immature about this and there were far better ways to handle the situation than they were before he dismissed it.