I could tell pretty quickly – he had no idea what hit him. – Briel Cortes explaining her first date with Jase

I keep turning over new leaves, and spoiling them. – Louisa May Alcott

The clanking of weights and the smell of sweat permeated the space beneath the glaring canned lights which shone from two stories above. In a calculated fashion, Jase wandered casually, hands in pockets, through the grunting bodies as if he could not see them. He affixed a discreet smile on his lips, making sure to portray neither interest nor disdain.

As he and Drew strolled between the machines, Drew took a minute in advance to describe each person whom they would pass on the next aisle. Jase's main goal lay in ascertaining from each new face how carefully he would need to maintain his charade in its owner's presence, unsure as of yet just how far he would invest himself with Drew's company. For the next few weeks, he had a clear directive if not a clear direction. He had no idea whether he were going to try to step out of his solitary line of work, but he wanted to make sure he could enter the group flawlessly once he made his decision. In truth, no one seemed particularly insightful nor attentive, and Jase began to relax. All he had to do was avoid notice.

Unlike Jase, the gregarious Drew seemed intent on drawing others' thoughts to himself, and he nodded and smiled in greeting at several coworkers from where he strolled down the pathways between weights. As Jase had hoped, no one paid much attention to the unfamiliar visitor walking nonchalantly through the crashing machines.

Their absorption with their workouts insured that Jase found himself able to survey the room, noting anyone who appeared capable of causing him potential trouble. He found only a few men that concerned him; out of fifteen men in the gym, three gave Jase pause. Near the front, a man of average height lay pressing a ridiculous number of weights overhead, his overstressed, red face contrasting strangely with his white mat of hair. He somehow looked familiar, if incredibly cocky, and Jase noted the exchange of glances between him and Drew. There seemed no love lost between the two, and Jase noticed both a tightening in the man's jaw and a glinting of ire in his eyes as he stared up at Drew. How anyone could use such an expression with the laid-back Drew, Jase did not know.

“Friend of yours?” Jase queried, curious as to the intense interchange between his usually casual friend and his oddly granite-faced coworker.

“Just colleagues,” Drew equivocated.

Jase scoffed at the weak explanation. “He doesn't seem to like you,” Jase pushed.

“We've worked together for years, and Liam functions on a hair-trigger; a bit too impulsive for my liking. We've had disagreements.”

“Sounds like fun. Can't wait to meet him,” Jase's eyes sparkled with the challenge; finally, a little spice in the rather vanilla recipe that had recently begun to stir in his life.

Near the foremost window sat a tall man with dark, curly reddish hair, who unconcernedly raised and lowered his arm in bicep curls. This man's features seemed a tad feminine, but he did not seem weak, and Jase knew that such a demeanor did not ensure his frailty. Though the man appeared relaxed, something in the tension of his muscles convinced Jase that the man could spring into action in an instant.

Finally, Jase stared for a long second at a man Drew denominated as “Adam.” Jase remembered Adam from Felicity’s mission. As if it were just a mission. Adam wore the look of an African prince, dark clear skin, nearly ebony, and noble, even features. Adam's muscles rippled taughtly without exaggerated bulk, and Jase noted that Adam likely harnessed a vast amount of power behind that controlled expression on his face. All in all, Jase's introduction to his potential coworkers neither excited nor repelled him. He would need more information before he could come to a decision.

Like the other occupants of the gym, Jase's host offered little reason for Jase's concern. Drew's entire countenance screamed “simpleton” and “nice-guy” for all to hear. If Jase had not sought a cover, he would never have rekindled the friendship with his shallow, unsophisticated attendant. Drew would do nicely, though, for the purpose of making an in-roads into the community. Because of his history, Jase could never have entered any formal employment with a regular security company, but the team asked few questions beyond the odd recommendation. Drew provided that, and Jase would prove himself so quickly that no one would question him. Competent, but not overly impressive. Jase knew what to portray to promote himself to such a group of people.

Nearby, a sound drew Jase's eyes back to the weights. A group of several women shared the gym with their male coworkers, and they had begun a drivelfest near where Jase stood, babbling about nothing, except one woman who apparently liked to keep to herself. Jase smiled toward her, and she nodded, but there was no connection between her and anyone. Maybe they could be polite colleagues, which was more than he considered for most of the gym occupants. The other women engaged in social exercise, but none noticed Jase. After taking in their appearance, he discounted them as quickly as he had the men. Neither as a threat nor as a potential relationship did any of them interest him.

Why am I considering this job? Jase asked himself after his perusal of the room. Nothing he saw enticed him to accept Drew's proposition for work. Still, the dearth of other options stymied him. At all costs, he must avoid any kind of hierarchical organization - either criminal or legitimate - with checks and balances. No managers, no presidents; no real structure. Bosses would mean quality control, and Jase had no desire for anyone to search too deeply into his motivations - not when he himself hadn't figured them out. Couldn’t he find a nice group of mercenaries where he knew no one and they didn’t care what happened to him? He wasn’t sure how far he would go to get himself back into Bill Henry’s organization, but

After a few introductions, Jase and Drew exited the gym and returned toward Jase's car. “Is that really it?” Jase wondered aloud, a bit disgusted. “I didn't find much to entice.”

“Give them some time, Jase,” Drew reassured. “First of all, you don't know them at all. Most of them are incredibly talented and just basic good guys.”

Exactly, Jase agreed silently.

“Besides, you have a date tonight. Just wait until that's over to decide,” Drew pleaded.

“Do you really think that I'm so shallow that I'll let a hot chick determine my future employment? Surely you give me more credit than that.”

Drew huffed a disbelieving laugh as he lowered himself into the passenger side of the sports car, “Not even a little more. You are as easy to read as anyone I've ever met.”

Not likely, Jase asserted to himself.

“If the women are interesting, then you're in,” Drew codified his theory.

“You're right, Drew,” Jase spouted sarcastically. “I've got a one-track mind.”

Comfortable with the stereotype his reputation had garnered, Jase allowed Drew to think as he would, a belief made even more credible because Jase really had loved women to a fault. Still, he had always known better than to let them affect his choices.

I used to know better, he corrected himself. Felicity's image again rose in his mind, and the vision twisted his gut.

After a pleasant lunch and drive around town, Jase began to grow more comfortable with the area and less confused by its inhabitants. He found that though everyone looked him in the eye, an annoying habit if he needed to avoid recognition, most of them did not appear overly solicitous. Some strange cultural rule had trained them to say “hello” to anyone they met, but they lacked that usual Southern gentility that would have forced them into each other’s business. In San Antonio, people seemed to present their true selves to a large extent, and they stayed to themselves. Not as bad as he had thought.

Still, Jase had to ask Drew about the few men they encountered who averted their gaze and mumbled strangely to themselves. In New York or Chicago, Jase would have assumed some mental illness, but he found just enough of a sampling in San Antonio that the numbers didn't work; no city had a mental illness percentage that high.

“Conspiracy theorist types,” Drew explained. “Most of the western states have a larger-than-average population of people who believe in all sorts of strange theories.”

“Though some of them are probably right,” Jase laughed, thinking of the government representatives who had allowed and even utilized Bill Henry's business with full knowledge of its true nature.

“So, basically, you don't have too much to worry about here. People are nice and honest for the most part, though if you're looking for debauchery, you can always find it.”

Doubtful, Jase contradicted Drew, but merely asked aloud, “Speaking of debauchery, when are we picking up these ladies? I'm getting bored.”

“You are without a doubt the most immature, impatient person I've ever met.”

“But I'm also the best op you've ever tried to hire, so you'll put up with me,” Jase smirked at the view out the windshield.

In response, Drew assumed a wider smile than was his custom and chuckled in some sort of disbelief. “We'll see about that. You'll meet someone tonight who will give you a run for your money.”

“Right,” Jase countered. “Not likely.”

“Just wait till you meet our dates, and then you can tell me how great you are.”

Laughing out loud, Jase stared at Drew after parking the car back in front of his apartment. “Seriously, Drew? A woman who can handle me? How much basuco did you inhale before we went out today? It's a little early in the day for drug abuse.”

“Laugh all you want, but I'll present my evidence to you in an hour. I've got to run home and shower, but I'll pick you up in thirty minutes.”

“Wrong,” Jase corrected. “You'll meet me here, and I'll drive.” Why would anyone want to ride in anything but my Aston Martin? Jase reasoned.

“Fine. I'll be back in a few.”

To Jase's relief, the September air allowed just enough coolness to excuse a sweater. On a first meeting with a woman, Jase hated wearing muscle-hugging t-shirts. The type of women who responded to bulging biceps almost never interested Jase; too simplistic. For some reason, Jase gravitated towards an enigma, preferring a woman who surprised him over predictable, hormone-driven females. He had passed by the stage where he would take anything he could get, and even more so now than two months ago.

After showering, he threw on his jeans and a light sweater and wandered into his living room to await Drew. The clock struggled forward, shackled by Jase's glare, and it seemed far too long before the bell rang signaling Drew's arrival.

“You're late,” Jase accused upon throwing open the front door.

Again, Drew glanced at his watch. “You are the strangest person I've ever met. First, you say I'm early because I show up two minutes before our agreed time. Now you say I'm late, and it's not even five after seven. Do you sit around and stare at the clock coming up with complex chronological systems? Or is it just whim?”

Unwilling to wait any longer, Jase led Drew to the car and paused long enough for him to sit before continuing their conversation. “Neither, actually,” Jase explained. “Before noon, anything is early; after noon, I'm flexible; but after five, it's time to move. Life happens after five.”

“Right,” Drew seemed a bit skeptical but didn't confront Jase. “So, this place is only a few minutes away, near where we ate lunch.”

Drew didn't need to recap the directions, as Jase had pretty well committed their earlier drive to memory. Before five minutes passed, Drew directed Jase down a slightly winding road littered with the brushy mesquite trees that somehow passed for a forest in Central Texas.

“Now, before we go in here, I want to know what I'm up against. What am I getting myself into?” Jase insisted that Drew explain before they entered the fray. “Start with your date.”

“Not a chance!” Drew protested. “Keep your mind on your own date.”

Jase smirked, amused with Drew's discomfort, especially since it didn't seem to effect Drew's willingness to continue the evening. For some reason, Drew must really want Jase to sign on to work. “Drew, I'm going to see her anyway in about five minutes. Just get it over with.”

“Okay, then. She's tall with brown hair and brown eyes. Entirely too nice for you; you couldn't possibly find her interesting,” Drew sounded more hopeful than assured in his last statement.

“And my date?”

Now Drew assumed a more excited expression, almost so much so that Jase wondered at Drew's disinterestedness. The woman must have rejected Drew at some point.

“Well, your date is shorter, blondish-brown hair, and amazing green eyes.”

“Okay...” Jase waited for the rest.

“And she's got a rock-hard body, of course, though she's all woman,” Drew allowed dismissively.

“Are you sure you’re dating the right girl?” Jase mocked, and Drew just shot him a glare. “Fine, let's get on with this, then,” and he rose from his seat. Closing the door behind him, he strode with confidence to the large edifice before him, a small complex covered in white stucco and with strange angular girders of steel. He only stepped back to allow Drew to pass once they had mounted the steps and stood on the raised platform that fronted the door.

In reality, the night's date factored little into Jase's decision whether or not to stay and join Drew's team. Jase would make his decision based on a mixture of whim and self-interest.

Finally, the front door swung open, and Jase stood facing one of the last people on earth that he ever expected to see again.