Wasteware 08

08: Be Jealous

“She’s playing it a little too cool in my opinion,” Barnes told Commander Reeves. “She didn’t even mention Upper Lake Mary at all.”

Amaya scowled at him. “I didn’t mention it because we need it to be their idea.”

“You made it seem like we are only concerned with securing the area around the block and systematically working our way out from there,” he argued back, his brown eyes narrowing to match hers.

“That’s exactly what they would expect us to want,” Preston said, coming to Amaya’s defense. “We’re just playing into that.”

“Well that’s what we were trying to do,” Amaya added.

“I just don’t think you are taking the right approach,” Barnes argued.

Amaya’s face flushed with anger. “Oh, I wasn’t aware that you also handled intelligence assets before coming to the Block. I never heard your name mentioned at INSCOM, did you Preston?”

“Can’t say that I did.”

The Commander interrupted. “That's enough. Barnes, this is Amaya’s op, play it how she wants for now.”

“I appreciate that Commander,” Amaya said, “but Barnes arguing with me in front of the white coats actually works in my favor.”

Preston nodded at her side, “They’ll be more likely to believe she is siding with them if it looks like we don’t have a single agenda.”

“Is that why you were arguing with her today?” Barnes asked.

“No,” Preston replied. “She didn’t clue me in on her tactics.”

“I wanted real responses,” she explained with a shrug.

“Let's hope you can both perform as well tomorrow,” Commander Reeves told them. “Before you are dismissed, there is a disciplinary matter we need to address.”

He waited for everyone's attention to focus on him as he stood in front of the Throne Room. “Amaya, I understand yesterday afternoon you broke protocol for guest entry into your room.”

“Trying to sneak Anderson in?” Boyer whispered to her from his seat adjacent to hers. She shot him an irritated sideways glance but didn’t respond, at least not directly to him.

“I did. I let Preston into my room without going through proper ID checks,” she admitted, putting emphasis on Elliot’s name.

“That infraction requires discipline Sergeant,” Reeves explained. “Grab a pack when you are done. You're running laps on Theta.”

A loud sigh escaped her and she narrowed her eyes angrily at Preston across the room. “I would be amiss if I didn’t point out Sergeant Preston also broke protocol yesterday when he did not insist on proceeding with authentication or reporting me at the moment before entering my quarters.”

El’s eyes widened at her. His lips pursed into a tight thin line. She gave him a mean smile in return.

“That is a fair point,” Commander Reeves said. “Preston, you will join her today. I want three continuous hours from both of you, and you better keep a decent pace.”

Amaya gave Preston the silent treatment as they ran laps around Theta Zone. It became easier to do as she gradually began to outpace him. She always was a better runner than him. In days past, she would have slowed to match him, his banter making the hours pass easily. She was in no mood for that today. Her strides took her further and further ahead of him.

At the end of the three hours, she turned her last corner to arrive at the elevator, where Preston waited for her.

“I can’t believe you fucking tattled on me,” he panted as she approached.

“Excuse me,” she responded indignantly. “I can’t believe you fucking tattled on me. I just returned the favor.”

He followed her into the waiting elevator and hit the button to take them to their destination. “You were the one that broke protocol, My.”

“And so did you, El. If it was such a big deal, you should have reported me then, not come into my room and give me a foot massage.”

“You liked it,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.\

“I did,” she admitted, “but that's not the point. Why did you need to run to my dad with this?”

“I didn’t go running to your dad.”

“No? Then how did he find out?” she snapped at him.

“He asked me if I knew how your date with Jace went.” Preston’s tone was apologetic. His shoulders turned down just a bit, his face softening as he looked at her from across the small metallic box they were descending in. “I was just joking around. I told him it had to have gone well because, you know. You let me into your room without an ID check because you thought I was Jace.”

“Fucking hell, you never even asked me. You could have just said that.” She crossed her arms and leaned back into her pack, resting it against the wall. His face may have softened, but anger was still tightening the muscles of hers. “Why did you say the thing that would get me in hot water?”

“That’s a little dramatic. The water is lukewarm at best.”

“And you are avoiding my question,” she shot back, not amused at his attempt to quench her anger with humor. “We’ve skirted protocol with each other more times than I can count through the years. You didn’t intend on getting me in trouble, but you jumped when the opportunity presented itself. Why, El?”

“I don’t know, Amaya,” he sighed. “It just came out.”

Preston’s eyebrow raised just slightly. He looked away from her for the briefest moment while his jaw clenched. It was all so subtle, but she knew him well enough to spot the tells. He was lying. He may have been lying to himself too. Somewhere in that mind of his, he knew exactly why he mentioned her lapse to Commander Reeves.

She pushed herself off the wall of the elevator as the door opened. “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s not,” he said. Preston grabbed her arm as she stepped past turning her towards him.

She wrenched her arm free, and her face tightened. “Then do some introspection until you can figure it out. We’re done here.”

She turned around and stormed off to the locker room unclipping the backpack while she walked. The door had barely closed behind her when she yanked off the pack and threw it across the room. It smacked into a row of empty lockers before sliding across the tile floor.

“Fuck!” she yelled, not sure if she was mad at Preston, or mad that she had let him get under her skin. It didn’t matter that she had just jogged for the last three hours, Amaya was antsy with the bubbling energy of anger. She stopped herself just short of punching a locker out of frustration. With fists still clenched she forced herself to pace the aisle of lockers, taking conscious measured breaths as she walked.

Amaya had almost returned back to a baseline level of irritation. Almost. The sound of the door opening behind her followed by heavy boots on the tile washed away all the progress she had made. She inhaled deeply through her nose, sighing out through clenched teeth. “El, I thought I made it clear this conversation was over.”

The thudding of his boots stopped, but clearly, he did not intend to leave. She turned around with hands on her hips. Her eyes widened and eyebrows raised as if to say, get on with it then.

“I’m,” he paused. He looked up at the ceiling momentarily before turning his attention to her. He held his hands out and his shoulders dropped. “Look, I’m jealous Amaya.”

“What?” she snipped.

“Of Jace. I just never thought you would move on from me, from this.” Preston moved towards her. She dropped her hands from her hips and took a single step to him, closing the gap between them slightly.

“El,” she started, but he interrupted her.

“I know I have no right to feel hurt by this, but I do. I fucking do. And I think that’s why I said something to your dad.”

“You can’t be jealous of Jace,” she replied flatly.

“That’s news to me,” he said flippantly.

She shook her head. “No. I mean he’s not your rival. If you want me, all you have to do is take me.”

Preston needed no more encouragement than that. In three quick steps he crossed the space between them. Without a pause in his gait, he picked her up in his arms and carried her until her back was pressed up against the lockers. Amaya reached up. She had cut Preston’s hair too short to have anything to tangle her fingers in, but that didn’t stop her from running her hands through it anyway. She pulled herself up to kiss him. Their lips touched with an all too familiar need. She pressed herself more fully into the kiss. It may have been familiar, but it was the familiarity of the first sip of cold water on a hot day. She needed to drink it all in.

His hands were still holding onto her thighs. Amaya desperately wanted them elsewhere. She squeezed her legs around Preston’s waist, leveraging her weight between him and the metal at her back. He took the cue and his hands left her thighs. He ran them up her waist, teasingly caressing her breasts before his fingers started working the buttons of her uniform.

When he had unbuttoned her to the waist, she leaned away from him so he could slip the fabric off her arms. Amaya reached back up to pull him into another kiss, but the look in his eyes had already changed. With no urgency, his hand reached up to her breast. He didn’t take it. Instead, his finger traced the scar along her chest.

Amaya took his face in her hands and forced him to look into her eyes, “El, please.”

“Amaya,” he whispered. “Gods, look at what I did to you.”

“Ignore them.” She kissed him again, but he didn’t respond. She looked up into his hazel eyes, desperation coating her voice. “Please, Elliot, I need you.”

Preston unwrapped her legs from his waist and set her standing in front of him. “I don’t know how you could.”

“I’m starting to question that myself,” she said. She tilted her head back against the locker door, looking up at him. “You are so fucking worried about Jace hurting me that you don’t even realize how you devastate me. Every fucking time you make me think you are finally ready to be with me, and then you aren’t, it breaks my heart.”

He stepped forward with his arms out to embrace her, “I’m sorry, My.”

She skirted his arms.

“No,” she said, hitting her fist against the metal to punctuate her frustration. “Even hearing you call me that shatters me. You are never going to be ready for me, are you? You are never going to see past these scars? You keep thinking I’m going to be that Amaya that slid out from that little back dress at that hotel in Dubai all those years ago. You dare to look disappointed when this is what you get.”

She gestured to her own body and then slipped back into the top of her uniform. Buttoning up to hide her scars for his comfort. “You know what the fucked up thing is? Under these scars, I’m that same girl. I still burn just as hot for you, except now I just feel fucking stupid because of it.”

Amaya felt herself on the verge of spilling hot, angry tears, but she would not give Preston the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She walked hastily to the door, grabbing its cool metal handle. Before she opened it, she looked back at him, standing there, letting her yell at him. He wore sadness on his face but also a look of acceptance as if he felt this anger towards him was justified for what he put her through. That look pissed Amaya off even more. “Maybe you should be jealous of Jace. He can at least see past these superficial wounds I wear.”

He took one tentative step in her direction, “Amaya.”

“Fuck off Preston, we are done. I cannot put myself through hope for you anymore.” She turned the handle fully and walked out the door before he could say anything else.