Title: Confessions and Consequences
Author: DrawnToDarkness
Rating: T
Pairing: Jess/Becker
Spoilers: General knowledge of S4 & S5.
Summary: Jess has a little too much to drink...
Author's Note: This was supposed to be a funny little bit of fluff. It got a little more serious than I was intending (still very fluffy though!), so there might be another drunk!Jess story at some point. Just to warn you ;)
It hadn't been a conscious decision. At least, she didn't think it had. Being absolutely honest with herself, Jess wasn't entirely sure of anything other than the fact she'd allowed her friends to talk her into far, far too many tequilas.
Oh, and that her feet hurt. Really hurt. She was sure of that. But the new strappy silver sandals with their four inch heels were gorgeous, and went perfectly with the flirty black dress she'd chosen to wear for a night out dancing with the girls so she couldn't bring herself to take them off. (Well, that and because the floor of the bar they'd ended up in was suspiciously sticky in places and the thought of walking around on it in bare feet was just yuck.)
If only Abby and Emily had stayed out later, instead of begging off after the third – or was it forth? – club they'd gone into. They'd have kept an eye on her, Jess knew, stopped her from drinking too much – and confiscated her phone when they saw her get it out, too.
It was partly their fault, partly the fault of her friends, and partly due to the absolutely rubbish day that had gone before it. Three anomaly alerts, five casualties. Thankfully no fatalities.
She wasn't much of a party-goer, despite what she knew some of the people she worked with thought. Just because she was young and enthusiastic, as she'd once overheard herself be described, it didn't mean all she was interested in was a night out on the town with the goal of drinking to excess and collecting random phone numbers. She actually – truthfully – didn't really like the hustle and bustle of night clubs that much. Once in a blue moon was fine – fun, in fact – but she'd really much prefer an evening at the local pub, a nice meal out or a quiet night in at home with a book or DVD.
And she wasn't much of a drinker. Not when there was tequila and shots that might have been tequila or might have been vodka involved. So the combination of alcohol, a rubbish day at work and the absence of her sensibly minded teammates and friends led to the maybe not dangerous but absolutely most likely humiliating situation she had found herself in.
Drunken texts were bad enough – and she had a sneaking suspicion she'd sent out more than a few of those. Drunken phone calls were a hundred times worse. A million times worse.
Oops.
It could have been worse. She could have drunk-dialled Lester. (Though she thought there might be a text to her boss in her outbox; she just wasn't brave enough to check it just yet.)
And, really, the phone call in question had taken place ten minutes ago. Ten, hazy minutes. She couldn't even remember what she'd said and since her phone had stayed silent after she'd ended the call, she couldn't have said anything too bad... Could she?
"Another drink, Jess?" Her friend from university, Melanie, bounded up to the corner booth she'd sequestered herself in when the room had begun to spin about thirty minutes ago. "We're getting in another round of shots if you're interested!"
The already inebriated side of her brain thought it was a brilliant idea; the sensible side reminded her she'd already had one or two (or four) drinks too many and said...
"She's had enough."
Wow. Jess blinked. Had her voice always sounded so deep? And kind of... gravelly? Not to mention she'd spoken about herself in the third person, and without being aware of actually doing it. Really, thinking about it, it was an uncanny impression of... the man standing beside the table, glaring at Melanie.
... Wait, what?
Jess blinked again and closed her mouth, belatedly realising that the reason she hadn't been aware of answering was because she actually hadn't.
"Who the hell are you?" Melanie's eyes narrowed.
"Becker!" His name was a bit of a squeak but Jess was proud of herself for managing to actually make some sort of noise. "It's... He's... Becker?"
Melanie's expression cleared and a sly smile spread across her face. "Oh, really? You're Becker? You're a Captain, right?"
While Jess was annoyed at the blatant interest on her friend's face, Becker seemed oblivious to it. He reached out for Jess's hand, tugging her from the booth when she could do nothing but stare at him dumbly.
"Time to get you home, Jessica." Though his voice was hard, there was something in his eyes, something Jess knew was important somehow but wasn't quite sober enough to grasp what it was or why it mattered.
She didn't protest, couldn't get her mouth to form the words even if she'd wanted to. Instead, she let Becker lead her from the club, his hand deliciously warm and firm around hers.
Given that it was the most physical contact they'd had in a while – she remembered vividly the last time was when his hand had accidentally brushed hers last week when they'd both reached for the same black box on her desk – she wasn't going to complain. And since it was physical contact he'd initiated, after mostly avoiding her since last week's hand-touching incident, she decided she was justified in deciding to enjoy it while it lasted.
The only downside was that she wasn't sure that she'd remember it in the morning, and that thought almost had her reaching for her phone to take a photograph... until that thought brought back the memory of the last time she'd used her phone.
To call him.
Oops.
As Becker ushered her into the passenger seat of his truck, reaching across her to fasten her seatbelt for her as though he didn't trust her to do it herself, Jess was distracted from enjoying his proximity by her desperate need to recall exactly what she'd said.
He'd only been driving for five minutes when he heard Jess gasp. Becker glanced at her briefly, and experienced a short moment of panic at the expression on her face as he wondered if she was about to throw up in his truck. Instead, she turned in her seat to face him, her blue eyes wider than he'd ever seen them.
"Oh my god! Did I really say that?"
Since she hadn't said anything since leaving the bar he'd found her in – the second he'd tried, since she hadn't been able to remember its full name during her drunken ramblings on the phone, Becker assumed she was referring to said telephone conversation and wondered what part of it was causing her cheeks to burn so vividly.
"You'll have to be more specific," he answered her drily. "You said quite a lot."
A full twenty minutes worth, in fact. He'd barely been able to get a word in edgeways, not that he would have known what to say. After interrupting mid-way through the one-sided conversation to try and discern her whereabouts, Becker had put her on speaker phone as he'd driven to the first of two clubs he'd narrowed it down to, letting her voice wash over him even as he'd listened intently to her every word.
She was a remarkably coherent drunk, he'd learned, and a very honest one. He'd found most of her babblings endearing, and some of it surprising, but mostly it had all been quite informative, allowing him a rare insight into the inner workings of Jess Parker's mind he hadn't known he'd needed.
"I... You... Oh my god." Jess covered her face with her hands and shook her head. "Oh my god. I'm sorry. Shit. I didn't mean to say that. I really, really didn't."
"Did you mean it?" Becker asked, carefully keeping his voice mild so as not to betray the nervousness or amusement he felt.
"Which part?" Jess asked wryly, peeking at him from between her fingers as he stopped at a red light.
A grin caused the corners of his mouth to quirk upwards. "All of it."
There was a lot riding on her answer. More, Becker thought, than Jess might realise. Along with telling him he really did have lovely hair as well as a guilt complex a mile wide, she'd said a lot of other things, too. Lie how she knew he'd never feel about her the way she did about him but that that didn't make her feelings go away, and how she'd tried to stop herself from caring about him but had failed miserably. And how it wasn't just a silly crush, she'd fallen in love with him, and couldn't see herself getting over him – and that declaration had led to a mercifully short but quite fascinating tangent on how she really wouldn't mind getting over him or under him or in a number of positions that had made his cheeks heat and his imagination work overtime to supply some quite vivid images to go with her words. Thoughts he'd admit he'd already had on occasion, as had Jess apparently, but ones that weren't conducive to navigating safely through London traffic.
And then she'd grown solemn, almost sad. There'd been tears in her voice as she'd told him she knew he'd never want her or love her back. A resigned sort of longing that broke his heart when she said that "Simone" was a much better match for him, and she knew it, and how she understood and just wanted him to be happy because he deserved it. It'd taken him a good five minutes to associate "Simone" with Sergeant Atkins, a new recruit at the ARC. Atkins was a reasonably attractive woman who, yeah, now that he thought about it, might've shown some interest in him but Becker truly hadn't noticed it or her before. There was only one woman at the ARC he was interested in and attracted to and that was the woman sitting beside him, currently doing her best to blend in with the cover on the passenger seat of his car.
"I meant it." And she sounded so subdued that it made his chest ache. "You can drop me off here. There's a taxi rank just around the corner."
Half expecting her to reach for the handle of the door, Becker activated the internal locks, the click of them engaging sounding unnervingly loud in the otherwise quite truck. "You're in no condition to be wandering the streets, Jessica."
"I'm not going to wander the streets, I'm going to get a taxi and go home." She glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "And I feel perfectly fine, thank you. Surprisingly sober compared to ten minutes ago."
"I'm still driving you home." As reputable as some taxi companies were, there was no one else he trusted with her safety and, in all honesty, he wasn't prepared to let the conversation end there, no matter how much the little voice at the back of his head told him it was probably for the best if he did. "Look, Jess, about what you said..."
"Can we not? I mean, can we just forget I said it?" Jess visibly cringed in her seat.
Unable to resist, he threw her earlier words back at her. "Which part?"
"All of it!" She looked at him, cheeks burning and eyes flashing, and Becker had to bite his lip to keep from letting the thought that she looked gorgeous when she was angry slip out. "Seriously, why are you drawing this out? Just do your usual thing and forget it!"
"My usual thing?"
"Yes! That thing you do when something happens that makes you uncomfortable or vulnerable or whatever! You file it away, forget about it, and play dumb whenever anyone else tries to bring the subject up again!"
"When have I ever done that?" Even as he asked, Becker suspected he knew the answer.
"Two words, Becker." Jess glared at him to little effect. "'Security stuff.'"
Ah. Then.
To be fair to Jess, it wasn't the only incident she could have mentioned. She could have mentioned the fact they used to have lunches together on a semi-regular basis before the new ARC was properly established and Abby and Connor came back. She could have mentioned the way he'd clung to her after she'd disarmed the bomb Ethan had left for them at his hideout only to avoid being in the same room as her for days afterwards... Until the other time she could have mentioned, which was when he woke up in the medical bay after being hit by the EMD (twice) to find Jess waiting anxiously at his bedside.
Or she could have mentioned the way he'd stuck to her like glue after returning back to the ARC after the missing train escapade only to discover there was a chance a future predator had gone undetected; he'd had her play the sound file over the comms and had his men search the building... while he'd stayed in the hub watching over her shoulder on the screens, directing his soldiers to all of the little corners the cameras didn't quite cover.
The beetle incident, though, along with his pretty pathetic excuse afterwards, was a good one. It wasn't one of his better moments, but at the time he'd been so overcome with relief and feelings that he'd known he had to put some space between them so he could regain his balance.
Not that that was easy where Jess was concerned; at times, it felt like he'd been off kilter ever since the first day they'd met. She did things to his insides, made him feel things he thought he'd long ago taught himself not to feel, and no matter what he did to stop them from growing, it seemed he was powerless against the emotions she stirred within him.
"I can't do that now." He spoke quietly, unsure at first if she'd heard him.
"Why not?" She sounded more curious than miserable, and Becker thought that was a positive sign.
"Because of what you said." Because for as long as he lived, he didn't think he'd ever forget what he hoped was only the first time she told him she loved him – nor would he forget the jolt in his chest or accompanying warmth he'd felt when she'd said it.
"I said a lot, as we've already established." Jess bit her lip and took a sudden interest in the streetlamp-lit streets passing by. "So you're going to have to narrow it down for me. What did I say this time that's so bad you can't ignore it?"
"I didn't say it was bad." He kept his voice soft, wanting to make sure he had her full attention so she couldn't misinterpret or misunderstand what he had to say. "I just need to know that you really meant it."
"I already told you I meant everything." Her voice was just as quiet, her gaze fixed on the window as a sigh escaped her. "Look, Becker, if this is about Simone... I get it, okay? You don't have to feel bad or explain yourself. She's gorgeous and strong and brave and everything I'm not and god knows she wouldn't be caught cowering under a bloody table if there was a predator on the loose or make you feel like you have to stay behind and look after her when I know you'd rather be out there looking for it. It's okay. I'll be okay. I really shouldn't have called you tonight or said any of that other stuff so if we could just forget about that, I'd really appreciate it. Please."
During her little speech, they'd reached their destination. Becker slowed the truck as they approached the building where she lived, and swung into the free parking space across the road.
"You need to unlock the door so I can get out," Jess pointed out after a few moments of silence.
"You're wrong. About a lot of what you just said," he clarified when he caught her confused look. Not really wanting to have the conversation in his truck but unwilling to take the risk she'd run away from him if he unlocked the door, Becker turned to face her. "Firstly, I don't know or care if Sergeant Atkins is any of those things but don't you dare put yourself down or compare yourself to her or anyone else. You are one of the strongest, bravest people I've ever met, Jessica. And you went up against five predators with an almost depleted EMD and an injured colleague to look after." He took a deep breath and made sure he held her gaze. "And you're more than gorgeous, Jess. You're beautiful, inside and out. Don't ever think or say otherwise."
She opened her mouth, probably to protest but for one of the few times he could remember, words failed her and she was forced to close it again, staring at him in what could only be described as shock.
Becker couldn't blame her; he didn't think he'd ever said so much in front of her and meant every word. And he still wasn't finished. "Secondly, I have no idea why you've got this idea that I'm at all remotely interested in Atkins in that way or where it came from but you can get rid of it right now. I'm not."
"You're not?" Her voice was small, uncertain. "But she's pretty much perfect for you..."
"How can she be perfect for me when she's not you?"
Silence.
If it weren't for the absolutely stunned expression on her face, he might have convinced himself that he'd only thought it and hadn't actually said it aloud. As Jess was currently doing what he thought was quite a good and surprisingly endearing impression of a goldfish, he safely assumed he'd spoken out loud and that she'd heard him. It was the believing him part she seemed to be having trouble with.
"Thirdly," he continued after a long moment, "you were wrong when you said there was no way I'd feel the same way about you. Assuming you meant what you said, Jess, I'm right there with you. I have been for a long time."
"I... What... You..." Having recovered her voice, Jess struggled to find the right words. "Am I dreaming? Is this really happening?"
Becker allowed himself a small grin. "God, I hope so. I don't know if I'd be able to say this all again unless I'm the drunk one."
"I really don't feel drunk any more." Jess bit her lip, her cheeks flushed. "I feel like I've fallen through an anomaly and into some parallel universe but I'm otherwise okay. I think."
"You think?" He quirked an eyebrow. "That's not really the response I was hoping for, Jessica."
"I don't know what you want me to say," she admitted after a pause. "I mean, I've already said… you know… so…"
"But did you mean it?" Becker asked quietly. "Or was that just the tequila talking?"
Jess lowered her gaze almost shyly to her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap. "I think we've already established that I meant it."
"Good." Acting on impulse, Becker covered the gap between them. His lips brushed against her cheek, close to the corner of her mouth but not quite touching it. "Then will you go out to dinner with me tomorrow night? Assuming you feel up to it with your hangover."
"I don't get hangovers," she protested instantly, looking up at him, a smile playing on her lips. "And yes, I would very much like to go out to dinner with you tomorrow night. Just, I don't know, text me or something in the morning so I know this is real and not my imagination playing tricks on me, yeah?"
"I will." With a reluctance he was sure was painfully obvious, Becker hit the button for the remote locking of the doors. Despite her insistence that she was perfectly capable of making it to her flat unaided, he got out of the truck and walked around to her side, letting his hand rest against her back as he led her across the road to her building.
He walked with her up to the door of her flat and stood back, feeling a little awkward as she unlocked the door. His palms felt damp, his heart was racing, and he berated himself internally for feeling like a teenager with his first crush.
Turning back to face him after opening the door, Jess gave him a small, sheepish smile that made him suspect she was feeling just as nervous as he was. "You're welcome to come in for a coffee or something if you'd like."
"Oh, I'd like to, but I shouldn't." There was a very good chance that coffee would turn into something more, and despite her protests that she felt sober, Becker wasn't willing to risk taking advantage of her. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jessica."
Knowing he had to leave while he still had the willpower to do so, Becker turned away. He'd made it almost all the way back to his truck when his phone beeped in his pocket, signalling the arrival of a new text message - one that made him grin from ear-to-ear and be thankful there was no one around to witness the no doubt sappy expression on his face.
'Thank you for the lift home. Don't forget to text me tomorrow. Love, Jess xx'
End.
A little update for those waiting for it: Milestones V has left the planning stages and is now in the 'I really, really, really want to start writing it' stage. So expect the first chapter of it in the not-too-distant future. I'm also working on the plot of another Primeval/Agents of SHIELD crossover with Jess & Skye being brilliant (and, of course, Jecker & SkyeWard shippiness) for anyone who's interested in that.
Here's to a Jecker filled 2014, my fellow shippers! :)
