This is one of my very favorite bonus scenes ever. I lovingly titled it Avengers, Assemble. You’ll see why. This takes place right before the end of Fighting For Valor. There may be a part II to this scene before too long. Just sayin’. Since it only covers a couple of the Avengers.
Ford
As I open the front door of our apartment, I can smell the pizza, but the living room and kitchen are empty. The shower’s running, and I strip on my way to the bedroom.
Joey’s been working twelve-hour days this week, trying to secure a new grant for her research on alpha-thalassemia. It’s been hard for her, memories keeping her awake most nights.
“Joey?” I call out as I push open the bedroom door. “Can I join you?”
The shower curtain rustles, and she pokes her head out, her blond locks plastered to her cheeks. “You’re home early.”
“I missed you.”
“Clearly.” She drops her gaze to my dick, then pulls the curtain back inviting me in.
I slide my arms around her, enjoying the way she melts against me. But as she reaches for the soap, I take her hand. “Joey, what happened?”
The reddish scratches just above her wrist are fresh, and Joey presses her lips together before turning away. The water runs down her back, and I wait for her to find her words.
“I had a consult today. The boy—he reminded me so much of Mateen. And he had a seizure while I was there.” Bracing her hands against the shower wall, she sighs. “He’s in a coma.”
“Oh, God. I’m sorry, Buttercup.”
“I should have called you.” Joey turns back to me and cradles her wrist, her fingers skimming the edges of the scratches. “I stopped. When I realized what I was doing.”
“Do you think I’m mad?”
Fuck. You know better, asshole.
At her nod, I run a hand through my hair. “Never, Joey. Never. Worried, maybe. Never mad.”
She starts to cry, and I hold her, giving her whatever strength I have—even though I don’t know if it’ll ever be enough.
***
Joey’s curled against me in bed, so exhausted, she fell asleep the instant I wrapped my arms around her. I’ve been drifting in and out, my mind unsettled as I play over the events of the past few days, searching for signs she was heading into a bad episode.
Someone bangs on the door, and she jerks in my arms.
“Shhh. It’s okay.” Despite my words, I’m pretty sure I’m lying. It’s well after midnight, and no one should be coming by this late.
After I pull on a shirt, I stumble to the door.
“Trevor?” It’s not the first time I’ve seen such lethality in his eyes, and every time, I hope it’s the last. “What’s wrong?”
His brows furrow. “You haven’t talked to Dax today?”
“No. Why?” Stepping aside, I wave him in.
Joey emerges from the bedroom with a blanket around her shoulders.
“It’s Ripper,” Trevor says, and Joey moves to my side, fitting herself under my arm. Tension is rolling off of her, and dammit. She didn’t need any more reminders of her time in Turkmenistan tonight.
“Trev, get to the point. It’s late.”
“JSOC knows he’s alive. Two rogue agents knew he was alive the whole fucking time. They left him there for six goddamn years because they were milking money out of Abdul Faruk.”
“Oh my God,” Joey whispers. “That poor man. He could have been rescued years ago?”
“Yeah. Ryker and Dax…they’re…pissed doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
I’ve only seen Dax livid a couple of times, and I can imagine what this would do to him. There’s no question Trev’s here for help. When Ryker’s team rescued Ripper and brought him back to Boston, we all agreed the government could never know he was alive. Not after everything Faruk had made him do. He’d be arrested for war crimes and treason and locked away for the rest of his life. “So what do we do?”
“There’s a lot, Ford. The past twelve hours—“ Trevor shakes his head, “—they haven’t been good. But we’re running out of time. I can explain everything on the plane, but the need-to-know is that Commander Pritchard from JSOC is flying out to Seattle first thing in the morning and he decides Ripper’s fate. I have a charter plane waiting at Logan.” He looks at Joey, and his gaze softens. “It’s a lot to ask. But…”
“Ten minutes,” Joey says quietly. “We need ten minutes to pack a bag.”
I turn to the woman I love. “Are you sure, buttercup?”
“Ripper—when he was Isaad—saved our lives. And more than that—“ her voice cracks, “—I have an idea of what Faruk did to him.” She nods. “I’m sure. I can do this, Ford.”
***
An hour later, we’re on a small plane with plush, leather seats big enough for two. The captain’s turned off the seatbelt sign, and I shove the armrest up between us and let Joey snuggle against my side. Trevor’s furiously typing away on his tablet, and I close my eyes. I hope he’s right and we can stop JSOC from putting Ripper away for life.
***
Inara
I can’t sleep. Jet lag is a bitch, and after three days in Caracas for work, translating merger documents for my day job, all I want to do is curl against Royce and let the strain of the trip melt away.
Instead, I’m in the middle of my living room, sitting cross-legged on my yoga mat, trying to meditate. Too bad it’s not working. From the tension in his shoulders, I’m sure Royce had a couple of bad seizures when I was gone, and he hasn’t said a damn thing. I’m livid and I don’t know how to tell him.
The set of three knocks at the front door can only be one person, and I curse under my breath. I am too fucking tired to go on a K&R mission right now, but I flip the lock and stare up at Ryker McCabe.
“Where are we going this time?” I’m halfway to the bedroom for my go-bag when he clears his throat.
“Nowhere.”
“What?” I turn, and seconds later, Royce ambles up behind me.
“Ryker?” His voice is rough, and he wraps an arm around my waist. “What are you doing here? It’s four in the morning.”
Half an hour later, he’s filled us in on the events of the past few days. “Ripper’s all right? And…what was her name? Cara?” I ask.
“They’re both safe. All right…I don’t know.” Ry rubs a hand over his bald head and then leans forward, elbows on his knees. “The JSOC commander’s flying out. Now. He’ll be here a little after ten, and he wants to meet with Dax, me, and Rip. He knows, Inara. What we did in Afghanistan.”
I swallow hard and meet Royce’s gaze. His eyes are bloodshot, and he looks exhausted. “Royce, what we did to rescue Ripper…we could all go away for it.”
His fingers tighten on mine. “I know. McCabe, you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have a plan. Spit it out.”
“Strength in numbers,” he says. “Inara, I need you at the warehouse tomorrow with the rest of the team. Fuck. I need both of you. Every member of our…family.”
I stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Wait. You’re…actively asking for help.”
“If you’re going to give me shit about it…” He pushes to his feet.
“No.” Squeezing Royce’s hand, I stand so I don’t have to crane my neck quite so much to meet his gaze. “We’ll be there.”
His eyes shine for the briefest of moments, and then he nods. “I’ll call you in the morning. Let you know what time.”
And then he’s gone.
“Holy shit,” I say to Royce as he wraps his arms around me and leads me back to the bedroom. “Ryker McCabe has learned the meaning of the word family.”