Smooth Criminal [Jake Jensen x Reader] One-Shot.
I’m half asleep and this is probably terrible, but I love Jensen and had to give it a shot.
Title: Smooth Criminal
Fandom/Pairing: The Losers/Jake Jensen x Reader
Summary: Rule one: you’re not supposed to flirt with your contact. Jensen didn’t get the memo. Well, he did. But then he shredded it. Because it was stupid.
Jensen surveyed the crowded plaza; spotting the restaurant Clay informed him was the meeting point and taking a seat on the patio. He waved down a waitress to order a quick drink, since the summer sun was blazing hot above, and fiddled with his earpiece.
“Tell me again why this meeting had to be public?” he grumbled, eyes darting to and fro. “And why I had to be the one doing said meeting?”
“She’s taking a risk even talking to us,” Clay’s voice came over the radio in a bored fashion. “A public place is less suspicious. If Max found out she was sneaking off to abandoned warehouses, he might get a little trigger happy.”
“That still didn’t answer my other question,” he pouted.
“Pooch is still laid up and Cougar’s specialty is shooting people,” Clay grunted. “So you won by default.”
“Fine,” he sighed, squinting as he tried to find his target. “But I’m just letting you know, my acting skills are a little rusty. I mean—I’m good, I’m always good. I could use some polish, is all. The last time I had to perform, I got a little…distracted and—”
“Jensen, shut up,” Clay groaned. “She’s here, at your ten o’clock.”
Perking up, Jensen sat up straighter, his eyes widening as he finally spotted you. He’d never seen a simple sundress look so good. He unconsciously found himself hypnotized by the sway of your hips as you walked.
Weaving through the busy patio, you politely smiled at the waiter approaching you and murmured something while pointing towards his table. The waiter nodded in understanding and moved on. Jensen smirked a little.
You were with him. Suck it, waiter.
“Sorry I’m late,” you offered in greeting as you pulled up a chair. You both waited in silence as a waitress dropped off his drink and told you she’d give you a minute. “I was feeling a little paranoid, so I took a few precautions on the way here. To make sure I wasn’t followed,” you admitted with slight embarrassment. A spy you were not.
“Uh, I assure you, ma’am,” he replied, trying to fake the confidence he didn’t feel and grinning, “you’re in safe hands with me.”
“I’m Jensen, by the way,” he offered you a hand to shake. “Jake, that is. Jake Jensen. Heh, I sound like James Bond. Jensen. Jake Jensen. Actually it’s Captain Jake Jensen. But no standing on ceremonies, right? So you can call me Jensen. Or Jake, if you’d like…Whatever.”
There was a long, awkward pause that left him squirming. Clay was trying to muffle his laughter.
“Sorry,” you chuckled with a shake of your head, “I was curious if there was more to your introduction.” You could see a hint of a blush on his cheeks and you bowed your head demurely.
“Well, Captain Jake Jensen,” you grinned, “It is a pleasure to meet you. I am afraid I can’t stay very long. I’m on my lunch break and my boss will know something is up if I’m tardy.”
Jensen nodded in understanding, a little too fervently. Your hand slipped into your purse and you palmed the flash drive. Pulling his hand to yours, you slipped it into his grip as you made to play with his fingers and act coy. He seemed to take the hint, palming the device easily. But he didn’t pull away.
Instead he brought up his other hand, leaving you stretched slightly across the table sitting hand in hand like smitten teenagers. You smothered a grin as he ran his thumb across your knuckles.
“Why do I feel like you’re enjoying this?” you shook your head in amusement.
“Because you are a very perceptive woman,” he grinned widely.
“Damn it Jensen, you’re not feeling up our contact, are you?” Clay interrupted the moment and Jensen dropped your hands and turned his head to mutter into his microphone.
“God no, Clay,” he said in a harsh whisper, “Give me a little credit here. I’m being charming,” he added, turning back to you with a wide, crooked smile.
“Is that possible?” Clay wondered in disbelief, and Jensen looked away once more, his mouth pursed.
“I’m a delight!” he mumbled, before shifting his attention back to you, adjusting his glasses and trying to strike a come hither pose.
“He really is,” you assured him, leaning forward to make sure whoever was in his ear heard you clearly.
“Ha! Hear that,” he added smugly.
“Well sorry to burst your bubble, Mr. Wonderful,” Clay said bemusedly, “but your girl is on a time crunch. So stop making kissy faces and get a move on. You need to start decrypting that drive as soon as possible.”
“Fine,” Jensen muttered, pulling a face. You were still eyeing him with amusement and he gave you a lopsided grin. “I’m supposed to let you get back to work so I can do some work of my own.”
“It is about time for me to leave,” you confessed after glancing at your watch. You stood, and he followed suit, tugging at his t-shirt nervously. “It was a pleasure, Jake. You made my first outing as a spy—memorable.”
“You could just give me your number,” he suggested, ignoring Clay’s admonishments for hitting on an informant. “We could make more memories.”
“You’re a hacker, right?” you teased, leaning forward and placing a light kiss on his cheek. “Find it yourself.”
And with that, you bid him goodbye with an airy smile. His gaze followed you as you left the restaurant until he couldn’t see you any longer.
“I think I’m in love,” Jensen declared.
“That’s just great, really,” Clay said drolly. “Did you get the drive?”
“Of course!” he returned, a little offended as he double-checked his pockets, relieved when he did in fact feel the flash drive. “I’m not an amateur.”
“No,” Clay agreed, “You just think with the wrong head sometimes.”
“Hey! At least I didn’t go sleeping with the enemy,” he reminded his commander as he began to make his way back to his car. “How is Aisha, by the way?”
“She’s sitting right next to me,” Clay smirked. “So you might want to think twice about what you say. She’s already shot you once.”
“Don’t remind me,” Jensen groaned.
“I was playing nice,” Aisha’s voice came over the radio. “It was just your shoulder. I could have aimed lower.”
“No shooting my dick!” he exclaimed, before noticing that there was in fact a crowd of people nearby who all stopped what they were doing to ogle the crazy man. He waved awkwardly, shrugging his shoulders before picking up his pace and practically racing to his car.
“Just get back to base,” Clay advised, having had enough of taunting Jensen. “You’ve got work to do.”
“On my way,” Jensen replied, starting up the engine. He was more than ready to get started.
After all, he had data to decrypt and a date to arrange.