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ontherockswithsalt · 5 years

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Midnight Margaritas -- A Halloween Jamko Oneshot

Summary: When Jamie and Eddie get to pretend for one night, can they be whatever they want to be? The truth has a way of coming out in the dark.

Rating: T (but like.. also language).

A/N: A festive Jamko oneshot circa season 8! Featuring a reference to a conversation from 6x04. I hope you enjoy!

“If I bring somebody, is it gonna be weird?” Jamie sneaks a glance at his partner out of the corner of his eye as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

Eddie swallows the first sip from her own paper cup. “Why would that be weird?”

His shoulders lift and he offers a cursory glance around the precinct break room. “I didn’t know if it was like a… bring-a-date kind of… party.”

“Shh--” Eddie’s brows dip as she hushes him and steps closer. “I only invited like, four people from the house.”

“Alright, sorry.”

“It’s a Halloween party, Reagan. You can bring someone, but they've gotta dress up.”

He feels one cheek scrunch with the displeased look he gives her.

Pointing one finger, she cuts him a warning glance he’s seen dozens of times. “If you’re coming, you’re dressing up. No exceptions.”

“I don’t really do costumes,” he attempts.

“Wear your uniform for all I care. But don’t be lame, okay?”

With a slight shake of his head, he lifts his cup to his lips. “I’m not wearing my uniform.”

“If you don’t want to wear a costume, why would you even come?” She questions him. “Take your date and go do something depressing like play putt putt golf.”

“You’ve asked me ten times in the last week if I’m coming, so I feel like if I don’t come, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“You’ll never hear the end of it if you don’t dress up.”

He merely manages an exaggerated eyeroll.

“Wait, who are you bringing?”

Stalling over another sip of coffee, he looks at her and arches one brow.

He can’t help but smirk when her gaze narrows at him and mouth opens, a slanted curve to her lips. “Who?” She wonders.

“You said it wouldn’t be weird. You’re being weird.”

The pinchy look on her face amuses him when she quickly shakes her head and insists, “I’m not weird.”

“It’s just Dana.”

“Ohhh…” She drags it out and leaves her lips parted for a beat before she averts her gaze. Then she sips thoughtfully from her coffee cup, nods and swallows hard. “Right, right. Law school Dana, cool. That’s… cool.”

All he can do is offer her a patient, but definitely judging reaction.

She lifts her chin and maintains, “I wasn’t weird. I said it normal,” before she flits her dark lashes in this way that makes his cheek twitch as she walks away.

***

“Oh look!” Eddie cries as soon as she opens the door to her apartment. Pretending to check an imaginary watch that's really just a gold plastic wrist cuff, she rocks back in the doorway. “You decided to show up at almost midnight.”

“Sorry! That's my fault,” Dana chimes in beside Jamie. “We had another party to go to. But I knew that was the one I'd want to ditch. So we hit that one first.”

Eddie seemed to have stopped listening and just slants a confused gaze at her partner. “So wait. Are you guys like… lawyers?” She peers down the length of him and tilts her head.

Jamie’s dark grey trousers and a coordinated, buttoned vest over a fitted white dress shirt and neat, red necktie, knotted at his throat apparently confuse her.

“Clark Kent and Lois Lane!” Dana announces.

The look that stalls on Eddie’s face makes Jamie sputter a tipsy laugh. “How--?” She starts.

Jamie uses his shoulder to push off the frame of her door. “Can we just come in?”

“Yeah yeah, come in.” When she turns, Jamie's gaze falls to the hem of the oversized white t-shirt she wears that engulfs her short frame. It just skims the back of her thighs beneath the curve of her rear end.

“What the hell are you supposed to be?” He wonders, following her to the kitchen, his date close behind.

Eddie moves to the counter where she clears off a few stray, empty cups and throws them in the trash. Then she looks down at herself, at the cherry red boots that climb over her knees and back up at him, lifting her hands as if it would be obvious. “I'm Wonder Woman.”

“Why are you wearing a New England Patriots t-shirt?”

“Oh. Someone spilled their drink on me and it soaked my costume,” she explains with a shrug. “I'm wearing the important parts.”

Jamie steps forward and adjusts the gold plastic headband that sits crooked across her forehead, wrapped around a mess of blonde wavy hair. “More like… Wonder Woman the morning after a pretty wild night.”

Unfazed, she glances to the counter to reach for a couple plastic cups from the stack near the blender. “What's a wild night for you, Reagan? Triple word score on an all-night Scrabble game?”

“I'm more of a Boggle guy--”

She simply lets out this exaggerated groan. “Dana how do you keep this nonstop thrill ride in line?”

“He really does go hard at Boggle,” she quips. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Yep. Other end of the living room. The door with the purple lights around it.”

“Thanks.” The sharp heel of Dana’s black stilettos announces her exit from the kitchen.

“Would you like a margarita?” Eddie calls after her.

“Yes please!”

She grins up at Jamie. “I'm making margaritas.”

“They're the only reason I came.”

“Can we talk about this costume? Because it's a joke.”

He looks down to assess himself, then pushes up the plastic glasses on his face. “Clark Kent is a reporter. This is how he dresses.”

“You're not even--” She steps up to him and tugs down the collar of his dress shirt. “Doing it the hot way. This is supposed to be ripped open and the Superman shirt underneath. You're seriously just a dork in a suit. With no costume under it. What if you get a distress call and you have to go save someone?”

Jamie shrugs one indifferent shoulder and reaches for a tortilla chip from a bag on her counter. “Then you can go, Wonder Woman. In your invisible jet.”

“Obviously, I'll have to.” In her silver cocktail shaker, she adds a substantial pour of tequila over ice along with the lime juice mixer from a pitcher. She slaps on the lid and gives it a good shake then looks over at him.

He watches her for a moment, propping himself against her kitchen counter. “Where’s your lasso of truth?”

Her lashes lift and those stormy blue eyes hook him for a beat. He finds himself managing a hard swallow before she answers, “In my bedroom. Wanna go make it useful?”

“Shit,” he hisses the word in a laugh and turns his gaze away.

She shakes her head with a satisfied smirk.

“Make the next one stronger than that and then we’ll see how truthful I get,” he tells her.

“Are those your real glasses?”

“No.” He grasps the frame and pulls them off. “I don't wear glasses. These are fake.” Sliding them back on, he quirks an eyebrow at her. “Do you like them?”

Eddie's lips twist as she considers it, then pops off the cap of her shaker. “Maybe. Do you like my red boots?” She wonders, straining two margaritas into the salt-rimmed plastic cups she set out.

With a meaningful pull of his brow, he glances down her legs before he murmurs his tease of an answer. “Maybe.”

“Superman likes them.”

“Never heard of him,” Jamie manages, accepting the drink from her. “Thanks.”

“We're having an affair,” she says, treating him to a proud flit of her eyelashes. “But keep it quiet, he's got a girlfriend. And she's no fun.”

Jamie squints and he knows it looks more dramatic behind his drug store glasses. “Tell me more.”

“Eddie, I love your apartment.” Dana reappears by Jamie's side in the kitchen. In a black button down shirt tucked into a slim grey pencil skirt, Dana really does look like any other day at her office. But it was sort of a last minute decision to dress up together anyway.

“Thank you.” Eddie passes off the other cocktail to Jamie's date and makes her way past them. “You two brainiacs have fun.”

***

Jamie’s not entirely sure why he wound up at this party with Dana. She herself acknowledged that it’s not like they’re exclusive. But now and then, when she needed someone to bring around friends or he was bored, they reached out to one another.

But the past year with Eddie had been rocky and strange. Like this constant shift in balance to make sure they didn’t tip over the edge of something they couldn’t climb back across. She admitted, in a rush of genuine confusion, these sweeping feelings. Quickly backtracked, and then kissed him.

But the way she did it was like this lingering, tempting reminder that she didn’t need him. And when her lips slipped from his -- that night almost a year ago -- and she looked up at him, a thousand questions danced in his eyes while hers simply offered him a challenge to make her need him.

And fuck, her kiss sparked a flame inside him that refused to go out. But instead of dealing with it, they made excuses, assured themselves with false notions that they were on the same page. And now barely hang onto this precarious slippery slope and insist that they’ve got it under control.

Jamie’s just drying his hands in the bathroom when everything around him goes black, except for the tin on the counter that holds a flickering candle. “Eddie?” He calls out for her, almost on instinct as his eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness.

He hears the protests from the party guests out in the living room and when he turns to pull open the door, he sees the whole apartment in the dark. Where there was once a TV playing music, strings of purple and orange lights, and a few dim lamps, now there was nothing except a few jars of glow sticks scattered throughout the room in neon green, pink and purple.

“Hang on. I’ve got it.” He hears Eddie’s voice from across the room.

“Jamie?” It’s Dana’s voice.

“Everybody okay?” He calls out.

“No, okay seriously. Now I’m scared,” someone else laughs.

“Let’s just all agree, no murder,” one of Eddie’s friends proposes to a dark room full of giggles. “Are we-- is everyone cool with that?”

“What if the lights come on, and somebody’s lying out dead on the floor?”

“Oh my god! What the fuck, Nathan? Who says that?”

“I’m just saying! This is like the beginnings of some horror movie shit--”

“Shut up, there’s like, five cops here nobody’s getting murdered.”

Just then the sharp beam from Eddie’s flashlight cuts across the room. “Or how about Wonder Woman’s here,” she speaks up. “It’s the breaker. I’ve gotta go flip it.” She directs her light near Dana where Jamie can see she’s still sitting with Kara from the precinct.

“Where’s your breaker?” He wonders.

Eddie waves the flashlight under her face and announces with an ominous tease, “In the basement.”

“No!” Another one of her friends shouts. “You’re braver than I am Eddie. I’d just make you guys sit in the dark.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jamie says, starting toward her.

“Can I help?” Dana moves to stand up and she says it in her typical polite way where she doesn’t actually intend to go with anybody.

“Do you have your phone?” Eddie wonders as she crosses the room with a lit candle and leaves it on the coffee table. “When we get down there, Jamie’ll call you and you can tell us when we’ve flipped the right one.”

“Alright, sure,” she agrees.

“Come on, Clark Kent. See this is when you would change into your Superman get-up!” Eddie huffs, exasperated as she grasps her drink and keys on her way to the door. “Missed opportunity.”

“You taking your drink?” He laughs.

She turns back and tips her cup to her mouth, the edge of the emergency light in the hallway catching in her eyes as she looks at him across the rim.

His cheek pulls up with a grin as he follows her, grasping the edge of the door to pull it closed behind him and murmurs, “Lush.”

She halts her steps right there in her narrow hallway leaving him to knock into her from behind. Chirping a surprised giggle, she bumps her ass against the front of his pants as she blocks him.

“Go,” he chuckles, holding onto her shoulders to shift her aside. But he intentionally wobbles her off her balance and she catches herself, heavy steps that click on the floor, as the wall keeps her upright.

Cracking up, she steadies herself against it. “Stop!”

“You sure it's your breaker?” Jamie wonders, turning to lead her down a dimly lit flight of stairs. “And not the whole building?”

“This building's so old, a lot of it is on the same circuit.” At the second floor, the hallway lights work and they descend another.

“How often do you have to go down to the basement to fix it?”

“Eh. Now and then.” She shrugs. “I could call the super and then wait all night in the dark, but I don't feel like it.” They come to another landing and find a door hidden under the lobby staircase. Crouching down, Eddie props her flashlight between her teeth and glances down to thumb through her keys.

Jamie reaches over and eases the light from her mouth and takes the drink from her other hand. “Got it?”

“Thanks.”

She gets the door open and it's another set of concrete stairs that descend into the darkness underneath.

Jamie ducks down, reaching out to slow her pursuit by her shoulder as he scans the cramped, musty space with the flashlight.

“I've never been able to find a light switch down here so maybe you can,” she tells him.

“My god, Eddie,” he rasps, his brow furrowed as he glances around what are probably multiple code violations and who-knows-what-else if he were to look under all the blankets and boxes piled throughout the room. “We gotta get you a new building.”

“No way, I love this neighborhood,” she insists. “You find a light switch?”

“I don't see one.” He steps closer, walking ahead with the flashlight when he sees the breaker panel on the wall. “That's okay, I can't look at that Patriots t-shirt anyway. It's better in the dark.”

“Ha!” She coughs, following in at his side. “It was an ex-boyfriend's.”

A grunt of disgust puffs out of him as he runs the light over the wall to find the subpanel for unit 3C. “Oh then that's extra offensive.”

“You gonna carry a torch for the Jets your whole life?”

“Yes.”

He hears the smile in her laugh. “Here’s 3C.”

Examining the plain panel of black switches, he wonders, “So nothing's labeled?”

“No.”

“Awesome. Let's just start flipping shit.”

“Why'd you bring her?” Eddie's question makes him pause a few caught-off-guard beats.

He looks at her. He doesn't ask Dana's name for clarification; he knows what Eddie's asking.

“I mean it'd be different if she were your girlfriend,” she goes on. “And you guys went everywhere together. But… or is she? Your girlfriend?”

“No.” He answers quickly. “I just-- she asked if I had plans and I told her about your party.”

“Right, my party. I didn't think you'd-- nevermind.”

“What, you don't like her? She's always been cool to you,” he reasons, but he knows this has nothing to do with her. “Right?”

Eddie blows out this sort of humorless laugh and looks up to distract herself at the circuit breaker. “Yes, Reagan. She's always been cool to me.”

He swallows hard and doesn't miss the flare of heat that stings his chest when he's this close to her. “Eddie, you know she's…” He exhales softly. “Intensely jealous of you.”

“Oh god,” she groans. “Don't. Why, because I get to spend so much time with you and witness you being a hero for twelve hours a day?”

“No, because she sees how I get when I talk about you,” he confesses. “Which… I probably do a lot, I guess--” He hears himself mumble the rest as he tilts Eddie's drink to his mouth and swallows what’s left in a hard gulp. “These are good. You have a future in bartending if this partnership goes south.”

“How do you get?”

“What?”

“How do you get when you talk about me?”

The near-darkness heightens everything else and he can feel his heart throbbing between his ears. “I don't know, Eddie. You know what I mean.”

“No I don't.”

“You want me to stand here in a fucking basement in the dark and tell you I care about you so damn much it makes me crazy? That I've never seen you look like more of a ridiculous mess than you do tonight and I can't stop thinking about how bad I want it? You don't want to hear that.”

“Want it?”

“Want you.”

She sucks in a playful gasp and he can see the blue in her eyes light up. “The lasso of truth,” she whispers. “Damn, my powers are good.”

“Shut up,” he laughs in this relieved exhale.

“So that's what it takes huh?” She muses. “No lights in a basement where you're pretending to be someone else and then, you can be honest with me.”

“I'm not pretending. I just-- You should know.”

She steps closer, pointing a finger at his chest. “And I do not look like a ridiculous mess--”

He hardly lets her finish before his head tilts down and his mouth falls on hers.

He's never kissed her like this before, with no hesitation, just giving into the gravity of everything that threatens to wreck them. He grasps her waist and closes a fist at the side of her t-shirt as she arches into him.

Easing away, she exhales hard and reaches for the glasses on his face. “Don't ever wear these again. I hate them,” she mutters, stuffing them into his pants pocket before she leans up and captures the kiss again.

She drags fingertips up the back of his head, lightly grasping his hair. The move makes him let out this uneven sigh before he denies it with the hard stroke of his mouth on hers.

An urgent whimper sneaks out of her just before he pulls away, his words a raspy breath. “Okay but can you wear everything but this shirt again at some point? Because I don't hate them--”

“How are you both a dork and a freak?” She exhales the question, then tastes his lips once more, adding a faint scrape of her teeth where she tugs. The heat pricks there at his bottom lip but he feels it pulse straight to his groin.

Just then, the harsh buzz of Jamie's phone vibrates through his pants. With a startled inhale, he shifts back, taking his hands off his partner before quickly feeling for the poorly timed device in his pocket.

“Hey--” He starts, then clears his throat. He lifts the flashlight and doesn't miss the pink in Eddie's cheeks as she tips her head down and nervously scratches beneath her gold headband. “Yeah we're just uh-- just trying to find the right one. None of these are labeled so give me a-- Yeah, she probably could sue her landlord.” He mutters his agreement and cuts his gaze over to Eddie who can't resist a roll of her eyes.

She helps him out, taking the flashlight for him while he holds his phone.

“How's--” And then he shoves over a few random switches. “Now?” He flicks and flicks and flicks to Dana's repeated No's.

After a few more unsuccessful attempts, the breaker resets and Dana gasps through the phone with a relieved “That's it!”.

Jamie confirms that they're good and lets her know they're on their way back before he ends the call.

“Wow, for just a modest reporter, you sure are a hero,” Eddie teases with an adorable scrunch of her cheek.

He shakes his head, exhaling his amusement and turns toward the stairs. “Can we go? There's probably a dead body down here.”

“Nice, Reagan.”

He leads her out of the underground space, ducking down to exit through the door and finally into some actual light.

When they reach the lower landing of the staircase, Eddie clicks her flashlight off and lingers there at the bottom. “Hey--” She starts and Jamie pauses his climb to look at her. “I know… you’re going home with her tonight. So--”

He shakes his head before she can either ask him not to, or give him the green light. “I won’t,” he tells her. “I mean, I plan on taking her home. But-- I’m not…”

Eddie stalls there with a faint nod as she considers it.

He points his chin to the back corner. “I meant all that down there.”

“I know.” The flick of a smile curves her lips.

A soft laugh puffs out of him and he turns to ascend the stairs. “These things happen when you work side by side with a beautiful amazon, shorty” he reminds her, echoing a theory she once had about her favorite superhero.

She sips a dramatic gasp, seeming to remember her own words. “I knew it all along.” Her steps stretch before she slaps his chest and passes him on the way up, musing, “You never had me fooled, Man of Steel.”

#jamko #jamko oneshot #yay halloween jamko!#jamie seemed awfully sentimental about Eddie's margarita making skills #in 9x02 #perhaps this is why

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