Work Text:
Redirection
by irena_adler
"Ian …" It was more of an exhale from Jason than a word.
"Hey," Ian said again.
"Ian …" Jason repeated, then his voice strengthened. "Hang on."
Ian heard Jason's hand cover the phone and Jason's muffled voice snap out commands to someone nearby. Ian took advantage of the pause to settle himself.
One of many reasons why Ian so rarely called this number was that he feared that someone other than Jason would answer. Someone who would give Ian the official line about a fatal `training accident' and `sincerest condolences'. Or worse, someone who said they'd never heard of any `Jason Hill', that no such person had ever been the Army's best sniper, or even existed at all. Ian would be left with no answers, no resolution, and no Jason.
Jason unmuffled the phone and asked, "Everything right with you?"
"Sure, just a little distracted lately."
"I might be myself, too. Depends. Did you happen to, about an hour ago, come up behind me and touch my neck?"
"Uh, no," Ian smiled.
"Didn't think so," Jason said wryly. "Would have been quite a climb, anyway."
Ian felt an irrational warmth. Distraction could be fatal in their line of work, but he was stupidly pleased that Jason had been distracted, too.
Ian repeated, "So, I'm at Quantico, you on my half of the planet?"
"Depends on how you cut it," Jason said. "But I should be, well, done here soon."
"Then?"
"I was headed to D.C. but I can probably manage to swing through Quantico on the way. That's if you'll still be there."
"I'll make a point of it."
"Good," Jason said warmly. "I'll call you when I get into town."
"Good."
Ian hung up and stood smiling at his phone until one of his students tracked him down.
end