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The problem with undercover work, Jett decides, is that nobody ever tells you how boring rich people are.
He had expected the gala to be exciting. Dangerous, even. The sort of thing that deserved black suits and hidden comms and fake identities and maybe a car chase afterward.
Instead, he has spent the last forty-three minutes standing beside a marble staircase while a string quartet plays something that sounds like it was composed specifically to make teenagers fall asleep.
There are hundreds of people here. Politicians, businessmen, celebrities, investors, socialites, the kind of people who have never had to check their bank balance before ordering dinner.
Everyone is dressed like they're trying to convince somebody else that they're important.
Jett is dressed accordingly.
Black suit. Black shirt. No tie.
His hair has been pushed back enough to look respectable, although several pink strands have already escaped.
He hates it.
He also hates the shoes.
Most of all, he hates that Jason keeps looking at him.
"Stop that." Jett says
Jason doesn't turn his head.
"Stop what?"
"Looking at me."
"I'm not looking at you."
"You've looked at me six times in the last minute."
"I'm supervising."
"I'm sixteen."
"Exactly."
Jett rolls his eyes.
"I'm undercover."
"You're also a teenager at a party full of adults I don't trust."
"That's basically every party."
Jason finally looks at him.
Jett gives him a lazy grin.
"Relax, unc."
Jason's jaw tightens
"Don't call me that tonight."
"Why?"
"Because you're supposed to be my nephew."
"Oh, right."
Jett considers this.
"Uncle Jason."
"Jett."
"Sorry."
"You aren't."
"Nope."
Across the room, Lian is pretending to be fascinated by an enormous floral arrangement. Pj is sitting at a table with a glass of sparkling water, looking like the bored son of somebody extremely wealthy. Ezra is talking to one of the event organizers.
Everyone has a job.
The target is somewhere upstairs.
A private auction with metahuman technology, weapons, information.
Their job is to get evidence.
Jett's job is to look like he belongs here.
Which, unfortunately, he does.
Not because he's rich.
Because Jett has always been good at pretending.
He knows how to smile at people he doesn't like. He knows how to make himself seem harmless. He knows how to become whatever version of himself people expect.
Tonight, he's playing the role of the spoiled nephew who has been dragged along to an adult party.
He's doing remarkably well.
Too well, Jason thinks.
Jett takes a glass of soda from a passing server.
"Want one?"
"No."
"Suit yourself."
He sips it.
Then his eyes flick toward the balcony.
Jason follows his gaze.
Nothing.
"See something?"
"No.”
"You looked."
"I have eyes."
"You use them too much."
Jason sighs.
"Stay where I can see you."
Jett grins.
"Yes, dad."
Jason nearly chokes.
Jett laughs.
Then he disappears into the crowd.
Jason watches him go.
He knows Jett can handle himself.
That's not the same thing as liking it.
The man approaches Jett twenty minutes later.
Jett notices him because the man doesn't look like everyone else.
Not suspicious.
Just interested.
Too interested.
He's probably in his forties, dressed in an expensive dark suit, with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a smile that never quite reaches his eyes.
Jett is standing near one of the tall windows, pretending to text.
"You're bored, huh.” drawls the man as he approaches slowly
Jett glances up, schooling his expression to keep from frowning.
"That obvious?"
The man laughs.
"Very."
"Then I guess you found me."
"Found you?"
"Someone told me to stand here and look miserable."
The man's smile widens. Just slightly.
"Are you here with your parents?"
Jett hesitates.
"My uncle."
"Ah."
The man's eyes travel over him.
Jett notices. He doesn't like it.
"He's somewhere around here."
"I'm sure he is."
The man steps closer.
Jett subtly steps back.
The man notices.
"Relax." he drawls
"I am relaxed." Jett scoffs
"You don't look relaxed."
"That's because you're standing too close."
The man's smile changes.
Not disappearing.
Just sharpening.
"You're a blunt one.”
Jett narrows his eyes
"I like that."
Jett doesn't answer.
He looks toward the crowd.
He can see Jason aross the room. Good.
The man follows his gaze.
"You're watching for him?"
"My uncle?"
"Yes."
"Kind of."
"Does he keep an eye on you?"
"Usually."
The man chuckles.
"Must be annoying."
"Extremely."
He starts to move away.
The man shifts into his path.
Jett stops.
"Excuse me."
"Leaving already?" breaths the man, drawing out each syllable
Jett squirms, more uncomfortable by the second
“Yep."
"Why?"
"Because I said excuse me."
The man laughs.
Jett doesn't.
There is something wrong here.
His instincts are screaming.
The man reaches out.
Not touching him.
Just putting one hand against the wall beside Jett.
Blocking the easiest route around.
Jett's pulse jumps.
"Move."
"You're nervous." states the man
"I'm annoyed."
"There's a difference."
"Move." he repeats
The man's voice lowers.
"You're very pretty when you're angry."
Jett goes completely still.
Not because he likes the compliment.
Because suddenly he feels like a little kid again.
Small. Trapped. The room seems too loud. Too crowded.
His fingers curl around his phone.
The man leans closer.
"You shouldn't be wandering around alone."
"I'm not."
"I don't see anyone."
"My uncle is right over there."
Jett points.
The man glances toward Jason.
Then back.
"He's distracted."
Jett's stomach drops.
He tries to step around him.
The man blocks him again, this time his arm moves to wrap around the boys waist. Jett freezes
"Hey." he snarls, voice a lot sharper now, “Move. And don’t touch me.”
"What's the rush?"
"I said move."
The man smiles, squeezing his hold around his waist.
"You don't have to be scared." he teases
Jett's feels his face warm with anger, hand closing around the hidden panic button in his pocket.
He doesn't press it.
Not yet.
Because Jason taught them something important.
Don't escalate unless you have to.
But then the man reaches toward him.
And Jason sees.
He sees the hand.
The hand, wrapped around Jetts waist and squeezing, keeping him in place.
The man, who is way to close to Jett.
The way Jett's shoulders have gone rigid. The way he's backed himself against the wall. The way the man's body is positioned between Jett and the crowd.
Jason is moving before he consciously realizes it.
He crosses the room. Fast.
The man notices him too late.
"Excuse me."
Jason's voice is deadly calm.
The man turns quickly, dropping his hold from Jett’s waist.
Jason smiles.
It is not a friendly smile.
"There you are."
He puts a hand on Jett's shoulder.
Jett flinches.
Jason notices.
He immediately moves his hand away.
"Come on."
Jett doesn't move.
Jason looks at him.
"It's me."
Jett blinks. Then steps toward him.
Jason positions himself between Jett and the man.
The man's expression changes.
"Oh."
Jason smiles.
"My nephew."
The man's eyes narrow.
"I didn't realize."
"Yeah."
Jason looks him up and down.
"You've been talking to him for a while."
"We were just having a conversation."
Jason nods.
"Good."
A pause.
"Then you won't mind ending it."
The man laughs.
"Of course not."
Jason doesn't move.
Neither does the man.
The air between them tightens.
Then Jett quietly says:
"Jason."
Jason looks back.
Jett's face is pale.
"Can we go?"
Jason's expression softens immediately.
"Yeah."
He turns to the man.
"Have a nice evening asshole.”
The man guffaws, and Jason turns before he can respond
He puts himself beside Jett and guides him away.
Not touching him.
Just close enough that Jett doesn't have to walk alone.
They make it halfway across the room before Jason asks:
"You okay?"
Jett nods.
“Yeah.”
Jason looks at him.
"Don't lie."
Jett exhales.
"No."
"Okay."
Jett looks down at his shoes.
"He was being weird."
"I know."
"He grabbed me.”
"I know."
"I told him to move."
"I know."
Jett's jaw tightens.
"I could've handled it."
Jason stops.
"I know."
Jett looks up.
Jason's expression is serious.
"I know you could."
That seems to surprise him.
Jason continues.
"But you shouldn't have to."
Jett looks away.
The music continues. People laugh. Glasses clink. Nobody else seems to have noticed anything.
Jett's breathing is still too fast.
Jason lowers his voice.
"You want to leave?"
"We can't."
"The mission can wait."
Jett shakes his head.
"No."
"Jett."
"I'm okay."
Jason studies him.
Jett takes a breath.
"I'm okay enough."
Jason accepts that.
"Fine. For now.”
Jett nods.
They stand there.
Then Jett mutters:
"Can I steal your bike afterward?"
"You were already going to."
"True."
Jason almost smiles.
"Stay with the others."
"Yes, dad."
"Don't start”.
Jett grins.
"There he is."
Jason shakes his head.
But he stays beside him.
For the rest of the night, Jett doesn't wander.
Not because Jason tells him not to.
Because Jett doesn't want to.
And Jason doesn't make him explain.
They finish the mission forty minutes later.
The evidence is secured. The auction is shut down. The target is arrested.
Nobody mentions the man again until they're back at the safehouse.
Jett has changed out of the suit.
He's wearing sweatpants and one of Jason's hoodies. He's sitting on the kitchen counter eating cereal straight from the box.
Jason walks in.
"You stole my hoodie."
"You weren't using it."
"It's three sizes too big."
"Fashion."
"You look ridiculous."
“You’re just jealous I pull it off better” says Jett, blowing a raspberry
Jason leans against the counter.
For a moment, neither speaks.
Then Jett says:
"Thanks."
Jason looks at him.
"For what?"
"You know."
"Yeah."
Jett stares at the cereal box.
"I hate when people do that."
"Do what?"
"Act like because I'm younger, they can just..."
He trails off.
Jason doesn't make him finish.
"I know."
Jett takes another handful of cereal.
"I didn't want to make a scene."
"You didn't."
"I thought everyone would think I was overreacting."
Jason's expression hardens.
"You weren't."
Jett nods.
A long silence.
Then:
"Would you have believed me?"
Jason looks at him.
"Immediately."
Jett looks down.
"Okay."
Jason reaches over and steals a piece of cereal.
Jett slaps his hand away.
"Get your own."
"It's my cereal."
"It's in my mouth now."
"That's not how ownership works."
"It is tonight."
Jason smiles.
Jett does too.
The tension finally starts to leave his shoulders.
Jason doesn't tell him that he watched the security footage afterward.
Doesn't tell him that the man has been flagged.
Doesn't tell him that Jason memorized his face.
He doesn't need to.
Jett knows.
He knows because Jason sits down beside him.
Because nobody tells him he should have handled it differently. Because nobody asks why he didn't fight harder. Because nobody blames him for freezing.
Because, when Jett eventually gets tired and falls asleep on the couch, Jason doesn't wake him.
He simply puts a blanket over him.
Jett stirs.
“I’m fine." he mumbles
“I didn't ask."
A sleepy smile appears.
"Thanks, unc."
Jason shakes his head.
"Sleep, kid."
Jett closes his eyes.
And this time, when he falls asleep, he knows exactly where everyone is.
Close enough to find him.