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They say fear, like love, is a call into the wild
A call into the wild
To the other side of the fire
Wild, wild, to the other side of the fire
♫ Change by Reuben and the Dark
-
Nothing says “date crasher” like six aliens in a MINI.
They were enjoying an off-duty night out when the car skidded by them and then climbed up the side of a skyscraper, skipped across empty air with a pulse of blue-sparkling light, and then resumed its go around traffic. Jay had clocked it with a sigh, sprawling over the hood of the car, not-exactly whining when he groaned, 'We can just call it in, right?'
They did, in fact, “just call it in.” However, they were the closest agents to the situation and MIB never fully acknowledged the concept of “off the clock.”
Jay thinks they should start. Kay, who is fifty-fifty when it comes to being a stickler for rules, agrees begrudgingly.
“How important is it, really?” Jay says, gesturing in the direction that the car had flown-driven. He throws his arm over Kay's chest. They're in street clothes, or as much as Kay is willing to dress down. They have spare suits in the trunk, compartment under the layer of guns. Doesn't mean that Jay wants to change.
Doesn't mean Jay wants to actually do his job.
Over the course of his life he's gone from loud maelstrom, to strung-out on adrenaline, to jaded does-the-job out of spite, to a sort of high-on-invasions but in love, to this quiet satisfaction with himself; but, he has his days where he cycles back through his other states.
Kay loves him regardless what state he's in, even if he sometimes cranks old-time country music to drown him out.
All-in-all Jay's gotten closer to the point where while he cares about his job, small things like this seem to barely concern the NYC population, so unless it's invasion-level... he just wants to continue relaxing with Kay.
“Word from the communication's hub is going to have reached Oh by now,” Kay answers after a long moment of simply curling a hand around Jay's wrist and keeping his arm snug in place.
“Aw, hell. She gets vengeful,” Jay says.
Last time they skipped out on their responsibilities, Oh had put the two of them on opposite sides of the planet for a week, training and talking to new recruits at other branches. It made Jay remember his brief encounter in an alternate-timeline with Double-A and he one-hundred percent groveled in Oh's office saying it'd never happen again.
Kay groveled but in a different way than Jay's overt nature. He was a model agent for about two weeks straight until Oh “forgave them” by no longer glaring and threatening them with the bottom-of-the-barrel assignments.
All because they missed the ceremony of Lord Phargras Grere becoming crown prince of the Riecarro System.
Evidently it was... well... seen a bit like a disrespect, and their absence anywhere for such events was... noticeable. It was the biggest downside of being the best of the best of the best.
Funnily enough, Oh had assumed that it had been Jay's idea to not go, when in reality it had been Kay. After all, he's dealt with the politics of the cosmos for far longer than Jay; he's gotten tired of the same drivel, the same peacocking.
Some could argue that Jay's been a bad influence on Kay over the years, but all Jay has done is draw out Kay's true feelings on... everything, himself included.
“Okay,” Jay sighs. He reaches over and claps a hand atop Kay's before sitting up. “I don't want to see what Oh's escalating punishment would look like.”
“Mm,” Kay forlornly agrees, and they roll off the hood in unison, going to the trunk and pulling it open, compartments popping up like an accordion with the press of an interior button to reveal the pressed-suits below.
“How're we doing this? Changing in a phone booth like Superman?” Jay quips, taking his articles of clothing and scanning around behind them. The street they had found was out in Jeeb's part of the woods, which meant they could actually stargaze without leaving the city limits, but by no means was it empty. He was not stripping naked in any part of this city, ever.
“Old-fashioned way,” Kay says, fishing his neuralyzer and glasses into his palm and jerking his head back towards a 7-Eleven.
“Gross,” Jay bemoans, but follows his partner down the street.
Two strange men go in, two strange men leave, now in appropriate attire with no one any wiser and no knowledge of who they saw.
Honestly, just the same as the alien-filled MINI, Jay's sure they could have left folks with their memories as is.
There's always weirder shit than them out there, done by perfectly normal humans. No extraterrestrials necessary.
Either way, getting back on track is easy, despite how much distance the MINI would have on them by now. Even on their downtime they had the car scanning all plates that had come within their sphere, and Jay had remembered half the plate, while Kay had showed him up and remembered all of it. The MINI was still close enough that they could search and hone in on it, and then they were on the move, Kay in the driver's seat and pulling them away from the curb.
So, their “date crashers” were not only six aliens in a MINI, but six aliens in a MINI with smuggled weaponry, illegal alcohol, and the kidnapped crowned prince of Riecarro.
“Why's he got to be the one that keeps trying to ruin our dates!” Jay exclaims with a hushed hiss, peering around the trellis of the rooftop garden they had parked onto where the six were very much in drunk-party mode, tallying up their haul with a hogtied aliferous ursid prince in the center.
More like tallying up their ransom price, Jay thinks.
Mildly envious he watches the jars of radioactive booze being traded between them. It would kill him in a heartbeat, but god did he want a drink in that moment. This situation went from Honestly No Concern to A Big Freaking Problem real fast.
As is the life.
He drops his head on Kay's shoulder and feels a warm hand pat at the base of his neck.
“What if we just invite ourselves to their party?” Jay suggests, and he doesn't know what it says about them that he is serious about the idea and that Kay is considering it. “Fellas didn't even hear us land, so they're not all with it.”
“Overdressed now,” Kay says, but it's not an argument for his plan, if Jay can call it a plan.
“Eh,” Jay laments. There's no winning for them in that regards. He's used to it. “Or we could rock-paper-scissors for acting as bait.”
“No,” Kay answers immediately.
When Jay had previously acted as bait he ended up with a concussion and stitches down his right side and Kay was a storm cloud until Jay was allowed to be released from Medical.
And then Jay slept on the couch for three nights because he made the smartass comment of 'but we caught the bad guy.'
With the prince involved they had considered calling backup for the roof. Had the kidnappers been sober they would have. It was the very-potent alcohol that made them hesitate.
Negotiating a tense situation with sober aliens was risky but manageable.
Negotiating a tense situation with drunk aliens was bound to implode with any wrong move, and adding more agents was bound to be the trigger.
They had alerted HQ in general, and by now the streets below should be occupied with other agents. They just had to get the prince off the roof without any explosions.
Easy.
Probably.
Hopefully.
“Plan B, then?” Jay asks. “Or Plan C, I guess. Man, where'd they even fit Grere in that car? That trunk's gotta have some real bigger-on-the-inside vibes.”
“I think that's our Plan C,” Kay says with a hum. “Or an addendum to Plan A.” He raises a brow at Jay. “It's physically impossible that the seven of them fit in there. Play to their current state, get the prince in their car, and bolt, ideally. Improvise the rest.”
Jay grins quickly, sharply. “I love improvising.”
They hear the clink of glasses and more rowdy cheering, and the low, mournful growl of the prince. Jay reaches out and starts to loosen Kay's tie. “Let's fix that overdressing, huh?” he says with delight, keeping one hand on Kay's collar and sliding the other down to deftly pop the top two buttons of his white shirt. He pulls away before he can get too caught up, but Kay's hand once more catches on Jay's and Jay swallows tightly.
“Lose the jacket,” Kay rumbles.
In that moment Jay would lose anything Kay told him. He pulls free of the black coat and tosses it towards their car and shakes out his limbs to both put other things out of his mind and fall into that old, loud maelstrom life of his. Someone he was a long, long time ago.
It's strange to think he's still that same person; but in a way, when he joined MIB, just a fraction of that was wiped away along with his fingerprints and everything else.
“Let's go save a prince,” Jay says.
The thing was... aliens were like people.
An alien was smart; aliens were dumb, panicky, dangerous animals.
Okay, perhaps not panicky. Not usually. But the rest? The rest was accurate.
You put a bunch of aliens that think they're the hotshots of their species together and they lose all their common sense.
If you see a pair of well-known MIB agents approaching you? Shoot on sight, apprehend, anything but let them get close—even if they appear unarmed, even if they share the same grievances with the crowned prince as the rest of them.
Aliens were like people, and in a way? That filled Jay with an odd sense of relief.
“You, my friends, have the right idea!” Kay cheers as the two of them bob and sway loosely across the rooftop. It's the only time Kay ever raises his voice, when they're going headfirst into playing a role. “What a troublemaker that one!” He points towards Grere, who's translucent-membrane wings keep trying to twitch against his bindings.
“Little bastard's been droning on and on about all his nonsense laws,” Jay continues. “I swear, it's hourly I get a printout about 'look what the royal family did this time.'”
For as much as they shit on the new prince, he's actually been trying to do good things for the Riecarro System. Unity and better laws and snuffing out the hidden bug colonies.
He blindsides one of the aliens—Jay had thought they were classification cephlapods but on closer look they were more crustacean—and swipes one of the glowing jars, taking a whiff of it, and whistling. He mocks a swig and the barest sizzle of alcohol touches his top lip and he thinks his soul temporarily leaves his body.
He's not doing that again.
“MIB,” says one of the aliens from where they're seated upon an upturned crate, counting weapons. There's a fogged recognition there, understanding, but just shy of connecting the dots. They look from Jay, to where Kay's slowly been closing in towards the MINI.
“Off-duty,” Kay announces. “Need a break. Do you know how tired I am?” He sits on another crate, the closest to the car, and all the aliens have hands for their guns as he reaches down and instead of grabbing for one of the smuggled weapons, mimics Jay and goes for the booze.
And drinks it.
Honest-to-god drinks it. Kay, the most-respected agent in MIB history, the most-feared human in the universe.
Downs it no problem, no reaction.
Jay loves him.
“Woo,” Kay breathes, smacking his lips. “Haven't had that in a lifetime. Cheers!”
The idiots surrounding them make the mistake of relaxing.
Amateurs.
“So, what are we drinking to?” Jay asks, moseying around the gathering, tapping a finger to the glass he holds. He thinks it's warming the longer he holds it. Paranoia, he hopes. He leans in close to Grere, sees the fear in the prince's eyes, like he's believing their “off-duty” speech just as much as the rest of them, like he believes they'll leave him to this.
That maybe the greatest partners have finally slipped off the deep-end and thrown it all away.
Jay, knowing he's obscured from view, winks at him.
He leans away just a fraction. “We missed his crowning, you know,” he says casually. “Originally, I had intended to go. Turn it into a roast.” He holds his glass up high and scans the area. “MIB gets all the best gossip about politicians and royals. It would've been great!”
“Spill it!”
“Yeah, tell us!”
Not a one alien has a hand even near their weaponry. A plethora of synthetic and transmutating and synchronistic tech that could kill them a hundred different ways... and the kidnappers just want the gossip.
“You mean how he spent his youth flitting around the neighboring Systems?” Kay asks. He meets Jay's eyes. Slides his gaze to the prince and Jay nods side to side twice, counting. Four. Kay makes the smallest of nods. “It's said he has at least two dozen offspring.”
“They say he did it because he didn't want to be 'forgotten,'” Jay continues, “'cause he was never supposed to be next-in-line, but fate worked out that way for him.”
Two.
“Now they're all going to grow up and assassinate him for the throne,” Kay concludes, toasting to it.
One.
In the rippling, jeering laughter, Jay is throwing the contents of his glass at the nearest aliens and kicking the crate out from under the prince. He hauls him up just as Kay is unending the rest of the alcohol across the weaponry and bullrushing it for the driver's seat of the car. Jay and Grere unceremoniously crowd into the backseat, Jay's yelling about shields, and they're gone in a skid, skip, and pulse of blue-sparkling light.
“You have to be better at driving than this!” Jay yells, rocking backwards with a slam, losing hold of Grere's bindings. The ursid struggles, wiggling his arms, and managing to get one free before they're both tossed around again. “What about all those lessons I gave you! Did you forget them?!”
“Jay,” Kay snaps back, and Jay knows enough of reading his partner that it means 'shut up, I'm trying.'
In Kay's defense, Jay had caught a glimpse of the vehicle's controls and didn't understand a lick of it. But Jay's always been good at figuring out most extraterrestrial transport in a pinch. A knack that Kay hadn't developed.
But he thinks it might be time for a “refresher” course for the sake of both their lives.
A pulse discharges from beneath the car and they quite literally go into a shake, rattle, and roll, just as Grere gets his other arm free and Jay undoes his muzzle.
“Thank you,” Grere announces with a shuddered sigh.
“Don't thank us yet, I think we're about to crash!”
“We're not—” Kay starts, and then the MINI pulses again.
They did not crash.
It was not an A-class landing, but they did not crash.
Grere still holds his stomach, wings stretching and toddling away from the two of them to the ring of agents that had the street cordoned off. Jay bellows with laughter and drags Kay in with a half hug and congratulates him on a job well done.
With the prince secured, the roof top is descended upon.
“What's this?” Jay asks, staring down at the gilded envelope on Oh's desk like it'll electrocute him if he touches it.
He'd feel silly about it, but Kay hasn't picked it up, either.
“Your vacation.”
It's Kay that snorts. “We don't get vacations.”
“It would be awfully rude for you to reject it,” Oh says, a small smile on her face, her hands folded in her lap, “and you've already disrespected the Grere family once.”
“Huh?” Jay asks dumbly.
“This is from them?” Kay asks, articulating the words that got lost in Jay's mind.
“A thank you,” Oh explains, “for rescuing their prince.”
“But we don't get vacations,” Jay repeats Kay's words, hesitant hand hovering over the envelope. He doesn't see any teeth, but he's always had some trust issues with ursids.
“Take it,” Oh says gently.
“The planet?” Kay asks.
“Will still be spinning when you get back, I guarantee it.”
Jay knows Oh can't guarantee shit, but Jay also has learned to trust his fellow agents. He's trained some of them around the world.
(Jay wonders if, maybe, that wasn't completely a punishment after all.)
Kay's hand slips under Jay's and draws the envelope off the desk, flicking it open and sliding out the invitation. Jay leans in and reads alongside him.
“I know it's a lot to ask,” Oh continues, “but try to stay out of trouble.”
“That's the best kind of date,” Kay says, and Jay laughs. It rumbles through Oh's office and towards the floor. Jay knows without turning his head that a few agents looked up, but he doesn't care.
The six aliens in a MINI had been date crashers. But adding that bit of adrenaline, the high, and the love? Well, Prince Phargras Grere of the Riecarro System actually gave them a pretty good date.
Now he's giving them a vacation that they have to take in order to properly do their jobs.
Jay grins at Kay, and it's only from years of experience and strong restraint that he doesn't make out with him right in Oh's office.
“When's our flight?” Kay asks.
-
I've been changed by change
And I know that you've been changing too
I've been changed by change
But I'm holding on to how I'm loving you