Don't Wanna Be Your Girl || Jensoo

Electric Feel - Oneshot:

Summary: Jennie accompanies Jisoo on a work trip.

*****

"I cannot believe this is happening," Jennie hisses under her breath, doing her best to avoid making eye contact with the three TSA agents currently huddled around the monitor. "You should've checked it into the hold."

Jisoo folds her arms. "Yeah, well, hindsight is a wonderful thing. How was I supposed to know silicone shows up as a liquid in the scanner?"

"You studied science."

A scoff. "Biology. For one year, Jennie. It doesn't make me an authority on X-ray fucking imaging."

One of the officials approaches—a short, stout woman with salt and pepper hair pulled back into a severe bun. She snaps on a pair of disposable gloves.

"Step over here, please."

They share a quick yet significant glance.

When they both move to follow her to the partitioned area, a discreet distance from the busy line, she holds up a stalling finger at Jennie. "Not you, ma'am."

"Oh." Jennie's throat bobs. "Of course. I'll just be over..."

She gestures to indicate somewhere vaguely behind her. But before she's taken more than half a step backwards, Jisoo grabs her wrist, preventing any further retreat.

"No. Stay."

"Jisoo," Jennie cautions, an undercurrent of alarm creeping into her hushed voice. She sends an apologetic look to the TSA agent. Is about to offer a few mediatory words to diffuse the situation, only for Jisoo to preempt her.

"Look, I get it. You're just following the rules, doing your job, earning your paycheck. But here's the thing: we're a team. Where I go, she does too." Jisoo lifts her chin, defiance in her eyes, a stubborn set to her mouth as she holds the woman's stare. "So do what you gotta do, because I'm not going anywhere without her."

Jennie does not swoon.

(Okay, maybe a tiny bit.)

For a few tense seconds, Jisoo and her would-be adversary stand at an impasse, and amid the flutter of rising panic, Jennie wonders whether being detained for obstructing airport security is considered cause for disciplinary action by Dean Jaha and the board.

To her relief, the woman eventually sighs and beckons the two of them forward—the I don't get paid enough for this shit broadcast loud and clear by her demeanour.

"Just be cool," Jisoo says out the side of her mouth. "I'll do the talking."

"Jisoo, I'm the least cool person you know."

"And I love you for it, babe, but I'm gonna need you to stay calm and let me handle it, okay? Trust me. I've got this."

Jennie stares, incredulous. But she swallows back a protest and nods stiffly, deferring to Jisoo's lead, unsure whether she should be more or less worried by Jisoo's unshakeable confidence in her ability to sweet-talk strangers.

***

The TSA official hefts the small two-wheeled hard shell case onto the metal table and opens it up with brisk efficiency. The main compartment is packed with innocuous things: Jisoo's makeup bag, spare socks and underwear, a warm sweater for the plane. All set neatly aside so the woman can get to the mesh-covered interior pocket.

Stony-faced but otherwise making no comment, she pulls out a clear Ziploc bag stuffed full of lube samples and condoms.

So far, so embarrassing. But it's the following item—a bulky tool roll—that causes Jennie's ears to burn and a flush to creep up her neck.