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“Are we there yet?” She’s on the backseat, ipad on her lap.
“No.” He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, free arm casually lying where the window is all the way down because it’s a thousand fucking degrees.
“... Are we there?” she asks again.
“No, Dr. Maxwell. Not … quite … yet.”
“... … How about now, are we there no-”
“Alana, for God’s sake, we’ll be trapped in this car for another eleven hours or so, are you really going to-”
“Okay, but are we there?”
“No! No, Alana, we’re not there, we might never actually arrive, maybe we’ll be involved in a crash and-”
“Mr. … Jacobi. Is something … bothering you? Hm?”
Yes, oh God yes, he’s had enough, he just wants to get out of this goddamn car and stretch his legs, and he wants Maxwell to stop doing this, he wants Kepler to stop going along with it, this has been going on for half an hour straight. He sighs and runs his hand over his sweaty face. Alana snorts, and he can hear her open one of the water bottles. “No, sir. It’s just- Can we not act like little children?”
“You think I act like-”
“Not-!” He falls quiet, lowers his voice to a more appropriate tone. “Not you. Sir.”
“Hmmm,” Kepler makes. It sounds thoughtful, but Jacobi knows this is just him playing, everything he does is pure calculation. “Dr. Maxwell … seems to be bored.”
“Whatever gave you the idea?”
Jacobi looks back and sees that she’s playing Candy Crush, the soda version. It looks like she’s losing.
“What about a game, Dr. Maxwell?”
“A game,” she repeats, and Jacobi can feel his heart sink. Anything but that. But he’s got her, he hears the clicking sound as she turns off the screen. “What do you have in mind?”
“What about Questions Only?”
Jacobi’s eyes widen. “Alana, don’t-!”
“What’s Questions Only?”
Oh, for God’s sake.
“Well, what do you think it is?”
“What?”
Jacobi lets his head fall against the window of the passenger’s seat. It’s gonna be a long eleven hours. “He’s already playing,” he says. “Only God can save you now, Alana.”
“What do you- Oh, we only ask questions?”
“It’s in the name, isn’t it?”
“Sound’s like a great game, don’t you think, Daniel?” She sounds very cheery and motivated all of a sudden.
“No.”
“Mr. Jacobi, was that a question?”
“No.”
“So, you’ve lost?”
“Yeah, oh no, what a shame.” He wonders whether the movies are true and he could just exit the moving vehicle without a bunch of broken bones. He then wonders why he never had to do that before.
“Daniel seems to suck at this game, huh?”
“Do you think you’ll fare better?”
“You seriously think I won’t?”
Jacobi groans and closes his eyes. He should have brought his ipod.
*
“I’ll pay in cash, if that’s alright with you?”
They’re at a small gas station somewhere in the middle of nowhere, and Maxwell and Jacobi stare as Kepler’s paying for the gas and the snacks Jacobi insisted on.
“He’s really good at this, isn’t he?”
“Alana, please stop.”
“You want me to give up?”
“Alana.”
“Don’t you want to see me kick Kepler’s ass at this game?”
“Alana, I’m begging you.”
(He does, but he also knows that it’s literally impossible to beat Kepler at this. He knows too well, in fact. God, does he know.)
*
They meet in the breakfast room of the small hotel at 0700 in the morning, Maxwell’s hair is all messy even though she forced it into a ponytail. She’s ripping apart a croissant while Jacobi’s busy stirring his coffee. Kepler’s the first to speak. “I bet you’re all waiting for me to wish you a good morning, right?”
Jacobi has to resist the sudden urge to splash the coffee into his face, this is a fucking nightmare.
“Is it really? Is it a good day?” Maxwell asks with a voice that portrays clearly that she’s actually had enough of Questions Only, because everyone gets tired of it eventually, especially when playing against someone like Kepler. But she won’t budge. Jacobi knows her well enough. Jacobi also curses himself, and not for the first time, for teaching Kepler this game.
“Maybe it would be if you actually gave it a chance to be?”
Jacobi groans.
“Anything the matter, Daniel?”
“Yes, is anything the matter, Mr. Jacobi?”
“Not … at … all.”
“We’re really glad about that, aren’t we, sir?”
Only a few more hours until they’ll have to be quiet in order to not draw any attention to themselves. Jacobi’s pretty sure he never looked so forward to the Lying Low part of a mission before.
*
“Dr. … Maxwell, did you … just get shot?”
“Sir, please! This is not the time-”
“... Where … else would the blood come from, sir?”
“Can you both just stop for a second, this is really, really bad, this is-” Words escape him, then, he got shot multiple times, he saw Kepler getting shot before, and it never got to him like that, this is part of a job, it isn’t actually that bad, he knows it isn’t, this is routine almost, but something about it being Maxwell makes this all irrelevant, this is-
“Jacobi,” Kepler’s voice, sharp and clear and calm, and his hand on his shoulder, steady and warm, “do you think it’s at all possible to wait with your little panic attack until you’ve handed me the first aid kit?”
“I,” he says and laughs, shakily, and he feels Maxwell’s eyes on him and realizes that he’s almost crying, this is fucking ridiculous, “fuck, I don’t know,” he says, and Kepler’s still fucking playing, “yeah. Yeah. Sorry,” he says and takes a deep breath.
*
She’s on the backseat, shoulder patched up, wincing at every slight bump in the road. Ipad on her lap, Soda Crush open.
He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, free arm casually lying where the window is all the way down because it’s a thousand fucking degrees.
“So …” She takes a deep breath. “Are we there yet?”
“Does it look like we’re there?”
“Thirteen hours,” Jacobi mumbles.
“What was that, Mr. Jacobi?”
I hate you so much, he thinks. “Nothing, sir,” he says.
“... Are we there now?”
“Are you just gonna ask the same question again and again now?”
“Why, is that against the rules?”
“I don’t know, why don’t we ask Mr. Jacobi?”
“Daniel? Is it?”
“I want to die,” he says.
“Then why didn’t you take the bullet for m-”
She interrupts herself when Kepler’s phone starts ringing, the sound ripping almost violently through the heat-filled interior of the car. Jacobi fumbles for it and takes a look at the screen. Ah.
“It’s uh, Mr. Cutter,” he says. Of course it’s Mr. Cutter. They sent a short report one hour or so ago, Maxwell Wounded But Mission Objective Fulfilled On Our Way Back Now, he can already hear Mr. Cutter’s cheery voice, How delightful that Dr. Maxwell is okay, you should celebrate this with a goddamn chai latte once your back. He doesn’t especially like Mr. Cutter. Mr. Cutter is … creepy.
“Ah,” Kepler says, and then quickly, almost as an afterthought, “is it?”
Oh. Looks like this is one game Kepler will lose. Jacobi grins as Maxwell speaks, suddenly very upbeat again, “Don’t you think you should take this, sir?”
“Do I think … I should take this?” he repeats, then gestures for Jacobi to pass him the phone.
Click.
“Mr. Cutter, sir?”
Jacobi stares. He isn’t seriously going to try and pull this off all the way through a conversation with Mr. Cutter, is he? He can’t be.
“I trust you’ve got our short report?”
“This can only end in a disaster,” Jacobi murmurs, and then gets pressed against the door as the car makes a sharp turn to the left for no apparent reason at all. Jacobi blinks, confused for a second, Kepler is an excellent driver, there’s no reason for him to-
From the backseat: “Ouch! God damn it!”
“Oh,” Jacobi whispers. “That’s cold.” He turns his head to look at Maxwell just in time to see the realization in her eyes.
“Wh- No! No, that- That didn’t count! That-!”
“Yes. Mr. Cutter. The team is alright. You’ll get the full report as soon as we’re back.”
Click, and: “So sorry, Dr. Maxwell.” His voice betrays his words.
“You- You cheated! You cheated so you could talk to Mr. Cutter!”
“I’d never.” That’s all the answer she gets, and Kepler looks so smug Jacobi could almost feel sorry for Maxwell if he wasn’t so relieved about the end of this madness.
“Daniel! Say something!”
“You really want me to take a side here?”
“Oh, look at this - finally joining the game, Mr. Jaco-”
“No!”
“Alright,” Kepler says, calm, composed. “... Say. Have I ever told you about-”
He considers - again - how much it would hurt to hurl himself out of the moving car.
*
“To make a long story short, that’s why I will never set foot into an Apple Store again.”
“Mhmmm,” Jacobi makes.
Maxwell sighs. “Would you think I’m crazy if I spent actual money to buy more lives?”
“What?” Jacobi turns his head, confused, only to see that she’s still got Soda Crush open. He’s a little jealous - she stopped pretending to actually listen to Kepler’s asinine stories only a few weeks after she started doing field work with him, and he doesn’t know where she takes that courage from, or why Kepler’s just letting it slide again and again. “... Yeah. Yeah, I would think you’re crazy. Just wait for half an hour.”
“But I didn’t save all the bears,” she says. “I feel really bad.”
“...” Jacobi has no idea what she’s talking about, but he somehow doubts context would make it any better.
“I feel like a horrible person, really. They all died.”
Kepler snorts. “You shot … a man a few … hours ago. And your inability to save a few bears in a game is what makes you think you’re a bad person?”
Maxwell shrugs with one shoulder. “I actually care about the bears, you know.”
Jacobi laughs and turns back again to look out the window. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the hint of a smile on Kepler’s face.
“Anyway. Are we there?”
Jacobi closes his eyes while Kepler tells her that no, they’re not there yet, and God, he hates those long-ass drives, but something about the whole atmosphere in the car makes him feel … at ease. Calm. Something about it feels like home.