Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Good days were hard to come by down in Rapture. Lately, Ryan had him by the throat in hopes of squeezing the life out of his business interests. Squeezing the ambition and plasmid line out of the tycoon by inviting him to his fancy galas; pretending to put on a face that would have any broad swoon. But, he was no broad; and found himself laughing in Ryan’s direction, mocking his pathetic hopes of getting some sort of scratch out of him. Fancy galas and watered-down whiskeys weren’t enough to get him to cough up his plans to the king of this city; this dump. Ryan had to try harder, and he was more than willing to put up a challenge.

What would Ryan do with a plasmid industry anyhow? The man worked in electrical engineering, not genetic sequencing. It would be like putting a butcher in a shoe department, which he had the pleasure of owning as well as his Futuristics. Ryan was industrial; Frank was inventive, cunning, and adaptable. All characteristics that Ryan would stutter with and fumble over as he so dared to try down in this city.

He made a show of straightening his tie as he came upon the labs, the red silk sliding along his fingers as his posture straightened. His labs, his genetic experiment, his money, his orphanage, and his...receptionist?

Fontaine quirked an eyebrow at the figure sitting at the previously empty desk. She had her head down, writing and scribbling something in a journal as she seemed completely oblivious to the world around her.

What the hell was a receptionist doing sitting in front of the labs? Sure he had the desk originally installed for the purpose of welcoming and funneling visitors, eventually getting to the task of hiring someone for the position. But this? This was not his doing, and it was starting to piss him off. If not him then who took the liberty of hiring someone without telling him? Without notifying him what he’d be paying them?

Suchong and Tenenbaum. Had to be either one or both.

He cleared his throat and leaned against the desk, elbow resting atop and his shadow looming over the woman. She jumped at the noise and lifted her head to the source of the shadow, eyes widening slightly at the presence now in front of her.

“Mr. Fontaine, sir!” She closed her journal rather forcefully and extended a hand for him to shake.

He chuckled to himself and took it, borderline surprised at how strong her grip was. “The slant didn’t tell me they were hirin’ a secretary.” He smirked and released her hand once noticing a touch of red creep across her face.

“Oh,” she paused and led the same hand to smooth out her hair, “they didn’t tell you? Miss Tenenbaum said they would notify you about it before hiring me.”

“Musta gotten lost in translation.” Fontaine tilted his head to get a good look at her.

She surely dressed the part of a secretary, he’d give her that. Nice velvet pencil skirt, fitting cream-colored blouse with a matching kerchief tied around her neck. Looked like she was rather catering on a plane than manning the front end of an experimental genetic laboratory. Course, the only woman he saw in the lab was one to wear the same lab coat and a stained jumper all day, every day; this was refreshing.

“Don’t worry about it, kid.” He scoffed once noticing her silence and how she fingered at her pen, awkward to bring up her apparent surprise employee status, “Mind givin’ me a name I can pen on your paychecks?”

Her gaze snapped up to his again, striking hazel eyes wide and curious, “Carter. Jane Carter, sir.”

‘Sir’. He was beginning to take to this woman. That piercing gaze and bobbed hair were some things to surely get used to, but her manner in establishing who was in charge was on the dot.

“Carter.” He paused to let the name simmer on his tongue, and yet something about it rattled at a memory deep within his subconscious. That name was incredibly familiar to him. “Got a nice ring to it.”

He gave her a sideways smile and patted the desk before continuing inside the labs. She turned to follow his form and lifted a hand out to him to say something, remembering that the two scientists didn’t want visitors today as they would be attending to the boy. Yet, this was Fontaine; the very man who shelled out the hundreds of thousands of dollars for the child, the experiment. She supposed that gave him some entitlement upon entering.

Still, Suchong was adamant about his word. She was sure to hear it from him. And to think that this was only her second week as their secretary.

As Fontaine made his way through the endless halls and series of doors, he thought back to the secretary. Aside from finding her incredibly familiar, she seemed out of place at that poky desk. Able to catch the little bit of chicken scratch in that journal of hers before she slammed the thing shut, he saw diagrams and drawings of animals. Whales, sharks, dolphins, and the like. A secretary? Fontaine knew a smart mind when he saw one. A cunning and clever one at that. Miss Carter, however, while not cunning in a sense; he saw smarts. Especially from that journal. She was no secretary.

Speaking of smarts.

“Tenenbaum!” He called, hands finding themselves in his pockets as he strolled through an automatic entrance, coming upon the lab where the boy sat shivering on a silver metal table.

The woman in question turned, pen stilling on her clipboard and eyes narrowing towards the intruder.

“You were not expected to visit today.” She almost sneered, eyebrow arching as Suchong huffed next to her; still examining the boy.

“Didn’t secretary out front tell you about visiting hours?”

Fontaine chuckled, “Yeah, ‘bout that secretary. Woulda been nice to be notified over ‘nother paystub I’d have to attend to.”

Tenenbaum gave a half smile and a shrug before turning to the boy, she took the stethoscope from around her neck and placed it upon his shaking bare chest.

“She is secretary out front, yes? We needed someone to fill the position while we worked more with the child. Would be terrible for Ryan to walk in with him sitting out like this.”

“Yeah, and? I don’t mind that just, tell me next time.” Fontaine felt the top corner of his lip curl as he spoke, feeling his blood boil slightly. “Already felt like I wasted ‘nough money on this kid.”

“Kid is not waste.” Suchong stood from the table and turned to Fontaine, shaking his own pen at the man, “Kid is genetic miracle.”

“He’s a waste, don’t even need ’em anymore with Rapture standin’ back on its own two feet.”

The room fell silent as the boy, Jack - as Fontaine had given him the name about a month ago, looked over to him with his bottom lip trembling. Those big brown eyes started to brim with tears as his shaking became worse; trying to hold back every squeak and tear.

“What do you suggest doing with the child then?”

Fontaine shrugged, “I don’t know. If the kid behaves I might consider takin’ ‘em in.”

Silence once again, this time out of awe. Then, quite unexpectedly, Suchong huffed before letting out a barking laugh.

“You?! Take child?!”

Tenenbaum looked equally amused and stepped towards the tycoon, shaking her head and smiling; she pulled at his arm to enter a nearby room as Suchong continued chuckling and examining the boy.

“Fuckin, slant.” Fontaine snarled as the two were now alone.

“He has every right to be amused. Why do you want the child?”

“I don’t know,” Fontaine shuffled around in his jacket’s pocket for a cigarette and lighter, “havin’ an innocent kid like Jack at my side might roll some people off my back you know? Overlook some things...”

The woman rolled her eyes and took a cigarette from her own lab coat, lighting it as Fontaine did with his.

“If you do plan on taking the child, consider this as well.”

“Hm?”

“The woman out front.”

“What ‘bout her?”

Her expression turned sharp, her voice lowering to a hushed whisper, “I had hired her not just for receptionist position. Frank, she is a Marine Biologist. Received her Masters on the surface. She knows the ocean better than anyone else in this city. She might be of help to us.”

He knew it, “Whatcha mean?”

“The sea slugs; they are new species, yes? With Miss Carter, there are opportunities to understand this creature and its species better.”

Opportunities, he liked that word. New opportunities meant more money, more of a step up from Ryan and his cheap Industries.

“You’re sayin’, consider hirin’ this woman to help you research the slug?”

She nodded, blowing a plume of smoke to the side as she watched him think; shifting his own cigarette between his fingers.

“I mean, I don’t see a downside. ‘Nother person I gotta pay, but if she’s payin’ me in the end with the research...” he trailed off, a smile stretching his lips.

“Yeah, I’ll consider it. She’s a fine-lookin’ woman too. Might not be a bad idea to have her sit outside my office at the Futuristics.”

Tenenbaum rolled her eyes, a dramatic statement for a man that no longer surprised her.

“The woman or the child, Frank.”

He smirked and blew some smoke in her direction, her glare only sharpening towards him.

“You mean I can’t have both?” He gave her a hurt smile before narrowing his gaze, “Look, Tenenbaum; if I want both I’ll take both. I paid for Jack an’ now the secretary too.”

With that, Tenenbaum snuffed her cigarette and tapped her watch. “I’ll give you until the end of the week to let me know when you wish to take the child.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He watched her leave the room, padding her way back to the examination room where Jack and Suchong were left. He’d been glancing out of the corner of his eye the whole time, watching Suchong poke and prod at the child. Jack didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve anything in this entire lab. Hell, Jack didn’t even deserve to have Fontaine look over him; to take him in. However, he’d give the boy everything and anything he wanted. Teach the kid everything he knew about con-artistry. Do everything he could to not shovel the boy into an orphanage like his own father did to him.

Fuck it.

Fontaine snuffed his own cigarette under his polished Oxford, feeling a lump of hatred well up in his throat. Whatever he wanted, he got and did everything to make sure he’d get it. Jack, the woman out front, Rapture? It was all a laundry list to him. Each one waiting to be checked off and accomplished so he could move on with his life. With Fontaine and maybe even his businesses, as successful as he was becoming. He’d get bored, however, Frank wasn’t one to stick with a con for too long. He got off too much on the thrill and power of a good grift. And to have all that, you gotta take risks. With Rapture eventually under his thumb, he’d have to get creative.

Eventually. He didn’t expect Rapture to stabilize. And with that, he didn’t expect Ryan to not go under in his own demise. He’d have to get to the king some way or another now. Have to get creative, and that new secretary being one hell of an opportunity.

“Heh, an opportunity for sure.”

Fontaine left rather quickly, tousling the boy’s shaggy dirty blond hair with a quick ”see ya kid”. He left the two scientists without a word as he made his way back to the front of the labs. Good, she was still there. Hunched over the desk once again with journal open and pen scratching almost manically; he sauntered up to her. Clearing his throat to not surprise her, he reached a hand to grip the back of her chair, the motion causing her to still jump slightly and turn.

“Oh, Mr. Fontaine. I didn’t hear you.” She stammered, closing her journal once again with a slight force.

“Now, hold on here.” He bent down over her shoulder to open the journal. Her form froze the closer he positioned himself, “I wanna see what you’ve been scratchin’ at. Looked interestin’ earlier.”

Just as he’d expect from what the Kraut had explained, diagrams and plenty of them. Sketches of sharks and their innards. Whale skeletons and labels, a list of all the species of crab. Didn’t even know there was more than a hand’s count.

“Mr. Fontaine, sir?” She wasn’t embarrassed anymore than she was curious.

No one had ever looked into her journal besides her professors and classmates back on the surface while she was in college. She’d thought no one would have been as interested as those who were familiar with her study. And from what Miss Tenenbaum was telling her about Fontaine, she didn’t think the man would be at all interested either. Apparently, she was mistaken. Unless...

“You’ve got something else, kid.”

“Pardon?”

“All this?” He flipped the pages and found more diagrams, more notes, and sketches, “It’s impressive.”

She felt that familiar heat rise to her face, Mr. Fontaine was complimenting her?

“Well I mean, I don’t want to sound posh but, well I-“

“Is Tenenbaum right?” He interrupted.

Now even more flustered, “About?”

“You,” he turned to her, those stunning steel blue eyes cutting through her like a sharpened surgical knife, “bein’ a scientist, right?”

She couldn’t look away from that blue. She’s seen the ocean plenty of times. Had dived, and now lives under the blue waves. But nothing could compare to the chilled gaze he was giving her, urging her on to answer his question and hushing her at the same time.

“Y-yes.” She responded, voice choked and weak, “A biologist.”

Fontaine smirked and let out a barking laugh, startling her as he closed the journal. “Well, don’t sound so humble ‘bought it now. You’ve got a goddamn Masters for Christ’s sake!”

“I-“

“Got a better job for you.” He finished and used his grip on the back of her chair to turn it slightly towards him, a smile playing on his lips. He’s got a line cast out to her now, judging from that nice pink blush highlighting the freckles on her powered nose; all he has to do is wait for the bite, hoping it comes through in more ways than one for sure.

“How’s ‘bout we meet at the SilverFin tomorrow night? You, me, a coupla glasses of whiskey an’ that job offer.”

She found herself blinking to break from his intense gaze, feeling slightly disoriented at everything being so sudden.

“Y-yes. Yes! Tomorrow night, at the SilverFin.”

At the where? She’s never been to the SilverFin the whole five years she’s been down in Rapture. Only had enough money left from the surface to convert and save up to at least eat at the Bistro here and there, enough for groceries now and then. This place always came across as that rich posh restaurant that only the stuck-up airheads took pleasure in eating at almost every night.

“Good,” he gave a wink and straightened himself, “6 o’clock. Tell the waiter you’re with me an’ we’ll talk business.”

“A-alright.” Jane gave a bemused chuckle and watched as Fontaine turned to walk away, hands finding themselves in his pockets once again; shoulders squaring and his step calculated. The man could go from personal to business in two seconds.

Good days were hard to come by, today being an exception.

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

This was a bad idea, the absolute worst she's had in a long time. And with how quickly things were happening all of a sudden, it felt as if she didn’t even have a second to think about it.

Maybe that was for the best.

She turned the clutch in her grasp as she walked towards the sea of people surrounding the entrance to the SilverFin, some people swirling glasses of wine and gin as they waited for an open table. God, she was incredibly underdressed too, gaze lingering on almost all the women in her path dawned in floor-length silk numbers, the fabric sitting low on their shoulders as glints of light from the jewels would catch her eye.

She didn't have any jewels on her dress, and neither was it floor-length or silk. The modest black evening dress sitting just below her knees with sleeves resting along her arms, it was the fanciest article she had in her wardrobe. She worried her bottom lip just as much, studying it for a good couple of minutes before getting dressed for the night.

She came so close to canceling.

An insecurity she hadn't felt in years surfaced and sat heavily on her chest, watching a few people from the crowd shift their gaze to look at her, then turn away with upturned noses. There was an immense need to crowd in on herself, scurry away to the shadows of Apollo Square, and wait there until it got late enough. Although, she didn't take Fontaine to have the patience to wait for her, even if she was a few minutes late.

Nonetheless, she persisted through the crowd with eyes trained on the entrance to the restaurant, shouldering through anyone who thought it entertaining to block her or catch her off guard. Once she made it to the front doors, she slipped through a group of people gathered in the lobby. One woman in particular gasped and furrowed her brows at Jane as the red of her wine came a little too close to painting her white dress.

She didn’t want to be there anymore, and she had barely even made it to the table.

Approaching the restaurant greeter, Jane gave him a small smile and what she could assume was a very noticeable pain in her eyes. He gave her a quirk of his brow, judging on the spot with eyes zipping down to her dress and then back.

“Hello - “ She started, already looking over his shoulder for a familiar face. “I’m here with Fontaine?”

The quirk turned to both of his brows raising, lip up-turning into a small smirk as she felt her shoulders start to slump in on herself. She saw people in the corners of her eyes turn to look at her as well, no doubt with incredulous expressions.

"Follow me." He huffed, taking a menu and she trailed behind the man. 

Jane wasn't sure what to expect from the SilverFin, knowing it to be very popular among the elite in Rapture as it was also host to a fair number of events and parties. And from what she could see passing the SilverFin after a long shift at the labs - usually stopping for a quick dinner at the Bistro - they were some pretty high-end parties. The atmosphere inside, however, was just as she'd imagined it to be. Dark, the place was incredibly dark, musty, and dimmed with small lights at each table. The aisles between tables also had lights along the floor to light paths throughout the restaurant. If this was her scene, and if she was wealthy enough to appreciate the atmosphere, she wondered if she'd feel different about the space.

They stopped at a table nestled towards the back, not too many surrounding tables which she assumed was on purpose. Fontaine sat waiting, watching her approach with mouth to a glass of whisky. His presence took up the entirety of the corner he was situated in, grand and intimidating as if she was walking towards certain death. The greeter gestured to her seat and she assumed that would do. Maybe expecting too much from the man, thinking he'd pull her chair out or something.

She gave him a polite nod before he disappeared back to the front of the restaurant, a red mist following him and she restrained herself from coughing. Houdini splice. There was a rare plasmid out there that allowed for teleportation that Fontaine strictly allowed for those working appropriate jobs to use. Jobs like waiters, bartenders, and anyone who needed to be in two different places within seconds. While the concept was interesting, she could never get past the residue mist from the plasmid when the spliced person would teleport, always inhaling some of it.

"Looks like you don't come 'ere often."

The glance she shot at him then she didn’t intend to appear so sharp, a knife slicing the thick briny air between them and gunning for his throat. Apparently, her insecurity was easy enough for anyone in the room to read. Rather than make any sort of tension potentially worse, she took her seat then, posture straight as she waited to see what he’d say or do next.

"Is it that obvious?" She took to answering, reaching for the glass of water to give herself something to ground her racing mind.

"Unless you choose t'save your fancy evenin' dresses for other things? T'see other saps?"

She felt the heat creep up from her chest to her cheeks, realizing that - no - there really was no other reason for her to wear any sort of evening dress, let alone the one she was currently wearing. She's even lucky she brought the only one she owned down to Rapture with her. The water glass met the cool table's surface. She swallowed hard and shrugged her shoulders a bit. And yet, she felt her smart mouth starting to get the best of her as well.

"Saps? What do you call yourself then?"

He scoffed, the sound rude and obvious with eyes rolling as he took a sip from his own glass.

“I ain’t a sap if that’s what you’re baiting me into. Invited you out ‘ere for business, nothin’ else, sweetheart.”

Shoulders rolled in on herself again, immediately shot down and she reached for the glass to take a long sip as Fontaine studied her for a few seconds. She certainly wasn’t the worst dressed, if he had to give her one thing. He appreciated the minimalist when it came to the women down here, not a big fan of the overly flashy dresses and accessories. Tryhards he destained. But, she didn’t look half bad.

“Why have you invited me here, Mr. Fontaine, sir?” He watched her perk up a bit, still hiding behind her water glass as she kept it close.

Fontaine glanced around them, eyeing people who may have been leaning a little too close to their table. Interest was piqued at Rapture’s most successful tycoon appearing in the SilverFin with someone other than Ryan, and a woman no doubt. With back straightening, he kept a hand on his own glass of half-finished whiskey, attention dividing between her and those at the tables around them.

“Been talkin’ to the Kraut recently, she tipped me off on your experience, your degree?”

A nod. She knew, of course.

“She suggested hirin’ you to work with her on the ADAM slug research. Not a bad idea, considerin’ you probably know ‘nough to make some breakthrough with them things.”

Jane wasn’t sure if she had the heart to tell him she’d never heard of the slugs, outside of Rapture, that Tenenbaum has been working with recently. And yet, being a biologist, there was a neverending hunger for knowledge and research into marine life that she had, no matter how fictitious they sounded.

A shrug answered his question as she took another long sip of her water. “I can certainly try my best. Very little is known about sea slugs in general, it would be exciting to study these ADAM slugs.”

The quirk to his lip was brief, but she saw it linger in his eyes for a second longer. “Good, ‘cause you’ll be gettin’ your own lab as well with this offer.”

The glass slipped from her hand, the condensation making her lose grip already slick as the bottom of the glass hit the table. She fumbled for it with a surprised squeak, taking a deep breath once realizing it miraculously didn’t spill.

“I - I’m sorry? My own lab?”

Another smirk, “You’re actin’ like you’ve never had your own lab before.”

“Well -” She reached for the napkin on her lap to dab at the few water droplets that spotted the tablecloth in front of her, “between working in a lab with other students, the bar I worked at in college, and the waitress job I had down here before Miss. Tenenbaum hired me as the Futuristic’s secretary…no.”

A bar she worked at in college? Interesting.

“Is this somethin’ you’d be interested in? All I need is a yes or no.”

There was a nagging feeling in the back of her head that this opportunity maybe wasn’t going to be exactly what she thought it’d be. But, her better judgment took over on what was best for her career, and her wallet, and the smile was quick to lift her spirits.

“Yes, Mr. Fontaine - I accept.”

The smile that tugged on his lips was something rare, and yet steel still lined the edges. It seemed as if she just made a deal with the devil.

“Alright then.”

He caught the attention of a waiter behind her and she watched him nod to the man. “You’ll start next week. Just come to the labs starin’ Monday an’ Tenenbaum will show you the ropes, sign some papers - ” Within seconds, she saw another red flash out of the corner of her eye, a Houdini waiter standing at their table with a tray of food, a refill on drinks, and luckily, a glass of wine for her. “An’ we’ll get that lab set up for you by the end of next week.”

She took the wine glass with an eager hand, eyes going wide at the plate of grilled salmon set in front of her. It looked delicious but odd. Jane almost expected Fontaine to settle the deal and then leave without a second glance. Certainly not expecting him to go as far as to buy dinner for her. He swapped glasses with the waiter, raising his glass then to toast with her own.

“Here’s to your promotion. Enjoy.”

The slight clink of their glasses got lost in the sudden laughter towards the other end of the restaurant, although her attention was suddenly set on the full plate in front of her. Salmon was a classic favorite of hers, but with this new opportunity, it would most definitely taste better compared to anything she’s had before.

~*~

She couldn’t decide what was more awkward, the lead-up to the dinner, or the actual dinner itself. Granted, she was incredibly thankful for the overall opportunity and fantastic food but, Fontaine himself had her on edge for the remainder of the evening.

They went their separate ways just after, the SilverFin still as busy later in the evening as it was when she had originally arrived. But she couldn’t shake the overall feeling of anxiety she had the entire time. Not just with being out of her element in such a high-end restaurant, but with Fontaine himself. From the moment she even met the man, he was uncomfortably familiar with everything he did. Physically, he wasn’t too familiar or looked like anyone she’d seen before. But his eyes, those stormy ocean-gray eyes, rough like the sea before a thunderstorm or hurricane - they haunted her to a degree. She remembers falling in love with a man who had similar eyes when she still lived on the surface, remembers drowning in them and gasping for breath -

And he’d call out to her from the opposite side of the bar’s counter, a life preserver that would keep her from sinking too far. His voice was smooth and deep, like the coffee beans she’d spent a little more money on with her limited student budget. All of that resonated a little too closely with Fontaine and what she experienced tonight, and she was honestly a little mortified about it. He hadn’t been mean to her, hadn’t threatened her, or made it obvious he had plans to jeopardize her career. It was a normal business transaction between boss and employee. He gave her a promotional opportunity, and she took it.

So, why did that seem so off?

Drifting thoughts always somehow managed to bring her back home. The Atlantic Express screeched to a stop back in Pauper’s Drop as she shook her head from the foggy reflection in the sub car’s window. And if the stares in the SilverFin weren’t enough to make her skin crawl, all eyes on her in the Drop made it feel like she was a celebrity in the wrong place. She honestly just couldn’t get a break this evening.

Muscle memory took over from the station. The bustle of people around the entrance to the station welcomed her home and she sighed with relief. The Drop wasn’t much, an old maintenance junction turned ramshackle neighborhood with the majority of Rapture unaware of the slum’s existence. Maintenance workers of the Atlantic Express called this place home, as well as all the sorry saps who couldn’t afford anywhere else to live, and dared to return to the surface. Including herself.

Rusted steel walls lined the walkway from the express station to the rest of the Drop, peeling paint flaking off to scatter along the mismatched tile. The acidic smell of water-soaked metal sat on her tongue, tasting copper. She always assumed her sense of smell was accustomed to the less-than-desirable smell of mold and mildew. But, ever since getting the secretary job and experiencing more of Rapture outside of this forgotten pit, Jane started to realize how pathetic this area really was, sadly.

However, Jane also tended to judge a section of this city based on the people she’d see taking up the space there. Apollo Square was always filled to the brim with the people in Rapture who had the money to spend, upturned noses, and rotten attitudes. Not her scene.

Arcadia tended to be a safe haven to those who appreciated nature on the surface, the Farmer’s Market reflecting those who ran small businesses before, priding themselves in their homegrown veggies and fruits. Bakers who would fill the streets of the Market with the fresh smell of bread, and beckon those who pitied their sweet tooth.

Fort Frolic had the eccentrics, the artists, the musicians, and singers, all of whom wanted to be a star and walk the red carpet in Hollywood. But, rejected up there for god knows what, finding solace and acceptance in Cohen and his increasingly insane actions he’d label as “art”.

And Neptune’s Bounty, home to all the rapscallions, the fishermen who’d be out at sea for months, the salt from the ocean running through their veins. The men and women who’d come home with battered hands and scruffed-up faces. The actual hard workers, the dreamers.

Pauper’s Drop had everyone. Everyone in Rapture who found themselves stuck in hard times, no matter where they were when they got here, all ended up in the Drop. Few refused to accept their fate, while most were happy they at least had a place to stay, food to eat, and water to drink. These people, she saw, were the ones laughing in large groups at the Fishbowl Diner. Playing instruments outside the diner for anyone and everyone who wanted to stop and listen or dance. The homeless would gather as a group as well, sharing amongst themselves food and stories. She liked to stop sometimes and give each person enough money for dinner that night - making a good few friends along the way.

Leaving the walkway, even as late as it was, the Fishbowl was still hopping and she smiled to herself. There were times when she certainly missed her job as a waitress at the diner, making friends with the regulars and staying busy almost every night. Tonight was no exception, every table full - from what she could see - and the food looking just as good coming out from the kitchen, the chefs comparable to well-oiled machines. Although, she remembered what she was wearing then once receiving a few strange looks from a few people smoking outside of the diner. She raised her clutch to her chest to encase herself and the evening dress. It wasn’t anything fancy up in Apollo’s Square, but most certainly stuck out like a sore thumb in the apparent pit of Rapture.

A sudden twang of guilt settled on her chest along with the clutch as she passed the group of homeless people she usually stops to chat with. Only a couple of them were there before another walkway opened up to the Deluxe apartments, one asleep and one eating what looked like food from the diner. She’ll have to make it up to them the next time she returns home from the Futuristics.

The Sinclair Deluxe apartments came into view then above where the tunnel connected between here and the Drop’s main square. The towering building reached up into the darkness of the ocean above and around them with few lights on here and there from apartment windows. Once entering the lobby of the complex, she was almost pleased to see James not sitting in his usual spot at the front desk, just knowing he’d tease her till the sun came up on her outfit of choice. But, even with how barren the lobby looked, she was still quick to catch the elevator up to the fourth floor, relief flooding her chest realizing there was no one out on her floor either.

Jane was, however, concerned when she went to grab the apartment keys from her clutch, that there was light spilling from the crack at the bottom of the door.

Huh, she most certainly remembered turning off all the lights in her apartment before leaving.

That curiosity turned to concern once realizing when she stuck the key into the lock, that the handle to the door turned anyway.

Now, she absolutely remembered locking her apartment door before leaving.

Opening the door as carefully as she could, she entered to find that the light to her living room had been turned on, as well as the light to the kitchen. The door closed equally as mindful behind her, wondering if someone had broken into her apartment, she’d rather surprise them than the other way around. Toeing over to the closet in the living room, she reached for the spare pipe she kept there for intruders, the pipe originally a fixture in the closet that had broken at some point. The weight of it was reassuring in her grasp as she paced over towards the kitchen, avoiding all the squeaky boards along the floor. The sudden rush of adrenaline, though, was enough to quicken her breath - trying hard to keep the fear quiet and controlled.

Just as she was about to peek over the corner of a wall and into the kitchen, a loud pop made her jump, as well as the person in her kitchen.

“Jane!”

She had to steel her nerves for a second, heart racing a million miles an hour as the person held out the fizzing champagne bottle over the sink. The pipe dropped to her side, as well as her clutch onto the countertop just on the other side of the wall.

“Ann - what the hell are you doing here? You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

The woman in question only smiled and shrugged, pouring the champagne into two flutes she must have brought with her as well. And by the looks of it, she must have just come from the diner with an apron still tied around her waist, covering the casual yellow dress Jane had gotten for her birthday two months ago. It looks like it was a busy night too with a few stains blotched on the yellow here and there, along her thighs where she must have wiped her hands a good few times. You’d think as a chef she’d had some sort of rag on her to save that poor dress. Ann tended to get lost while in any kitchen, her passion for cooking, baking, and creating amazing and savory foods was enough to take priority over what food-based debris was caught by her clothing.

Still, no matter what her friend wore, Jane couldn’t help but be jealous of Ann’s tall, hourglass physic, flawless, and beautiful dark skin that glowed in any light. She wondered if she’d ever muster up the courage to ask Ann for help on fashion and makeup, too stubborn herself to admit what she did was only half-assed and rather pathetic in comparison. Ann was a good friend though, and always reminded her she was beautiful regardless. She definitely had to learn to agree with her.

“Well, I knew you were havin’ that dinner tonight. Wanted to surprise you if you ended up gettin’ the offer.”

Jane took another deep breath, setting the pipe aside along the countertop as Ann stepped forward to hand her one of the glasses.

Ann snagged her gaze then on the pipe and gasped, pulling back the flute. “You were gonna wack me, weren’t you?”

“I didn’t know it was you!” Jane chuckled and reached out for one of the glasses. “I came home to lights on and the front door unlocked, I’m gonna immediately assume someone broke in.”

The woman scoffed and brushed aside Jane to enter the living room, plopping herself onto the loveseat with lips already to her glass.

“I mean, you did give me a copy of your key a while back, I’m surprised you forgot.”

Jane could only roll her eyes, joining Ann on the loveseat with a deep sigh and a quick sip of the champagne. The diluted fruity aftertaste sat heavily on her tongue after, Ann was already half finished with her glass.

“So?” Ann shifted to sit sideways on the couch, “How’d it go? What’s Fontaine like? I heard he can be a real jerk. I was so worried when you said you were havin’ this dinner tonight!”

A chuckle bubbled from her chest, along with the champagne as she swirled the glass in thought.

“It went alright, I was severely underdressed in this old thing.” She pulled at the shoulder of the black evening dress, the fabric already itching at her skin, pleading to come off. “But, he did give me the job offer, and I took it.”

Ann squealed at that. “Oh, Jane! I’m so happy for you!” She lurched forward to pull her into a hug, swaying them side to side as they both giggled. “I was so worried that tycoon was gonna eat you alive, say the opportunity was all a joke!”

“Ann - Ann, be careful!” Jane squeaked and lifted her glass to keep any of it from spilling, laughter seeping into her words.

They pulled away from each other, Ann fixing and fluffing the beautiful tight curls of her hair before taking another sip from her glass, tongue scrapping at a drop’s worth at this point.

“I’m sorry, Jane.” That starlit smile again, “You’re my best friend. I get so worried about you bein’ unhappy at your job or bein’ scammed into a new one.”

Jane couldn’t help the soft smile for her friend, reaching for Ann’s glass to fill it a bit more with the champagne from her own. 

"Thank you, Ann. But, I’ll be fine - you know that. And if anything happens, you know you’re the very first person I turn to.”

Another grin, both at her glass being half full and the reassurance.

“Which -” Jane chewed at her bottom lip, “is why I guess I should tell you something, about tonight?”

She watched Ann perk up, eyes going wide as she set her glass aside to avoid potentially spilling it again.

“What? Did somethin’ happen?”

A shrug, attention suddenly finding interest in the few bubbles left fizzing up the inch or two of champagne left in her flute. “I don’t know, it’s just - Fontaine. I’m sure everything was normal to him during dinner, but - I can’t stop seeing him in Fontaine.” Jane chuckled to herself at how crazy it must have sounded. “I couldn’t focus during the rest of dinner. He was talking about the stuff I’d be doing in the lab, but all I could see was him…from the surface?”

It was a split second, if she hadn’t been paying attention, Ann’s demeanor changing with mood a tad more sympathetic. Jane lowered her gaze to her lap, watching Ann reach to take her hand with a soft hum.

“You can’t keep doin’ this to yourself, Jane.”

Sad eyes met her friend’s, a sorrow running deep only surfacing briefly before she scoffed. “Doing what?”

“This man - “ Ann sighed, scooting closer to her with the couch creaking under them. “He’s a part of your past, keepin’ you back. You have so much goin’ for you now, in the present.”

Jane tried to sit back a bit but found herself in too strong of a hold from her friend to try and escape this time.

“Ann - if you knew, if I knew whether he was alive or not. It’s like his ghost, or the memory of him is just haunting me.”

The other woman chuckled a bit in disbelief. “And you’re sure your man from the surface isn’t Fontaine?” Mocking, but provoking enough for Jane to second-guess everything.

“No,” her gaze met Ann’s, the golden honey brown of her own startling her for a second as they came alight with thinking of the possibility, posing the question with a bit of intrigue, “That’s not possible. He couldn’t be -”

Could he?

Ann shrugged again and untangled her fingers from Jane’s own, choosing the remaining champagne to occupy her hand instead. “Well, then at least promise me you’ll start seein’ that Dr. Lamb like we talked about before.”

Ah, the shrink. “Of course, Ann - god knows you’ll only continue to pester me until I finally do.”

She couldn’t help but giggle along with her best friend, their glasses clinking with a belated toast. It wasn’t necessarily a bad idea, one that Ann had certainly put in her head about a month ago when the conversations about nightmares - the worst happening to her man from the surface - started seeping into their daily gossip during late-night dinners. She honestly tried not to sully those conversations, but even she’d admit to herself things have gotten worse the longer she’s been away from the surface. Seeing him everywhere, until seeing Fontaine in person for the first time as he was being interviewed on television about the plasmid line. Then, she saw him in the tycoon. And that was going too far.

‘One of these days.’ She thought with Ann now talking about the day she had, a crazy shift at the diner with orders coming through nonstop, hands waving in the air as she spoke. Always dynamic, always interesting to listen to, and always lifting her own spirits at the humor and life in her stories.

One of these days she’ll start to get her shit together and put the past where it belongs.

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

“And remember, you are to give him the medication twice a day - once in the morning and once at night before he goes to bed.” 

The clinking of the metal syringes turned to clattering as Tenebaum stuffed the container full of them into the suitcase. Fontaine had to keep the smirk from tugging at the corner of his lips with how full the damn thing was getting already. Checking his watch again, humor turned to annoyance once he saw how long this little visit was taking. He was supposed to be back at the complex already, a phone call appointment creeping up with an hour to go beforehand. 

“Fontaine, are you even listening?” 

His gaze lifted to her own, sharp and sudden with a scoff. “Yeah, I’m listenin’. Give the kid his meds once a day.” 

“Twice a day. Once in the morning and at night.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.” The hand with his watch snuck into his pocket then as he watched her continue to pack the bag with the few clothing items the kid had.

And it kind of pissed him off at the fact that Jack only seemed to have about two pairs of scrub-looking pants and shirts. An ugly off-white color with one shirt long sleeve and the other short, one single pair of shoes to join the pile as well. 

“Now, because of the ADAM, Jack’s rate of growth is rather rapid. We’ve had to change the sizing of his clothes four times already within the last couple of months. You will need to purchase more clothes for him as he continues to grow.” 

“Damn -” Tenebaum looked up to him then as she clicked the suitcase shut. “Shoulda told me I’d be spendin’ more money on this kid.” 

She rolled her eyes, lifting the suitcase to pass it off to Reggie who stood off to the side, knowing the tycoon wasn’t going to take it. “Jack is just a boy, Frank. Children grow but Jack is a special case as well, because of his rapid growth, he tends to eat and sleep more.” 

“Jesus.” He huffed under his breath. 

At the same time, just thinking about the kid staying any longer at the lab or in the new orphanage he had just set up, churned his stomach. If he could do anything to not repeat what his own old man did to him, he’d suck it up with the few extra bucks to be spent on clothes for the kid. 

“It’s as I said,” Tenenbaum glanced from Reggie to Fontaine, “if you don’t think you can handle taking care of the child - ” 

Another scoff. “At least give me a little credit? I can handle ‘im,” 

With a skeptical quirk of her lips, Tenenbaum turned then to Jack who had been standing in the threshold of the doorframe between the small room he had been staying in. Hesitant eyes peeked over the doorframe as he watched the remains of his few belongings packed away. With a wave of her hand, Jack approached slowly from the safety of a space that’s become so familiar. 

Tenenbaum kneeled then as Jack came closer and she fussed with the collar of his shirt for a couple of seconds. “Now Jack, you’re going to be leaving to live with Mr. Fontaine. Please, be good and if you feel sick at all, you let him know right away.” 

Jack gave a little nod accompanied by a slight sniffle. The whole scene looked as if Tenenbaum was dropping her 6-year-old off at school, the kid reluctant to leave the safety of home.

That lab wasn’t a home though, and Fontaine straightened his spine thinking about the bedroom waiting for the kid back at the complex. He would never tell Tenenbaum up front the soft spot he had for the kid. Never would admit to her he’d been looking forward to giving the kid everything he never got in his childhood. He’d rather be shot in the leg than admit he wanted to take Jack just to give the kid a chance at a better life. 

As long as he didn’t need him for his original plan anymore, anyway. 

After Tenenbaum spent the better of ten or so minutes consoling the boy, she was finally able to hand him over to the tycoon. Not without, of course, Tenebaum handing Jack the stuffed bear she kept from the suitcase just for him to carry back. The boy took it with a smile, eyes lighting up and he hugged the bear to his chest - pacing toward Fontaine with less hesitancy in his step. It was instinct for the kid then, smaller hand lifting to take Fontaine’s own that hung by his side. Although he didn’t find himself to be shooing Jack away, little fingers gripping his own as a signal he was accepting this. And the tycoon had to do everything in his power to keep the small smile from slipping. 

“Ready, kid?” Fontaine checked his watch again, forty minutes till his phone meeting. 

Jack nodded as they started back towards the front of the lab, Tenenbaum trailing a few steps back as she watched them leave. Saddened a bit, realizing she’d not be seeing the boy as often anymore - but curious as to see how Fontaine would manage to care for a child, let alone a child as unique as Jack. 

“Don’t forget his medication!” She called out to the trio before they exited to the front lobby of the lab, Fontaine holding up a hand to signal he heard her. 

The scientist huffed, crossing her arms as Jack looked back one last time to her before disappearing behind the automatic doors. At that point, Suchong had returned with a clipboard in hand, stopping when Tenenbaum spoke over her shoulder to him. 

“How long do you think until he returns with Jack?” 

“With the child? He’ll return tomorrow.” 

A scoff, maybe she wasn’t giving the tycoon nearly enough credit - as he said. And yet the visual in itself was hard enough to see, Jack living a decent life with all the love and affection he wished for, has told her he longed for - in less sophisticated terms at least. 

Eh, she’d give him three days, at least. 

~*~

Fontaine grumbled to himself as they entered the complex. A headache started to bloom as his attention bounced between his watch and Jack who had been glued to the bathysphere window watching the ocean pass from the labs to Mercury Suites. He couldn’t help the slight smile while he watched the kid though, eyes wide and full of innocent wonder since they left the labs. Until he realized, duh, Jack hadn’t seen any part of the city or ocean outside of the labs. The kid was literally seeing all of this for the first time. Still, it was entertaining, and dare he say endearing? 

However, with about 10 minutes till his phone call, the pressure along his temples started to hinder his mood. Reggie had been trailing behind them with the suitcase full of Jack’s few belongings, Fontaine turned to the other man and Jack as they stopped before the stairs. 

“Alright, Jack - “ The boy stood with the stuffed bear to his chest, the little rounded ears covering his lower face with round blue eyes staring up at him. “Got a few rules for ya, would you kindly pay attention an’ follow them?” 

Would you kindly. 

The trigger was something the scientists definitely did not skip out on, especially with their original plans of sending the kid to the surface starting to fall through. But, the effect was almost immediate, the kid’s eyes glazing over and the bear dropped slightly in his grasp. 

He crossed his arms. “Good, so no goin’ an’ grabbin’ stuff from the kitchen without askin’ first. Stay out of any other rooms, closets, whatever without askin’ first either. An’ stay out of my office, especially when I’m in it. If you see me on the phone? No comin’ an’ askin’ questions till I’m off, ok?” 

Jack nodded, his head bobbing as if on autopilot as he listed off the rules. He knew the kid was quiet and compliant, probably enough that he didn’t need to use the phrase. But, he couldn’t be too careful. The last thing he needed was the kid walking in on him while he was on the phone with Ryan or anyone else for that matter. 

“Alright, kid -” He looked to Reggie then. “I’ve got a call here in a few. Reggie will take you up to your room an’ show you around a bit.” 

The glassy look in Jack’s eyes cleared up after a few seconds and he blinked a couple of times. He hugged the bear tighter between his arms as he looked over to the much larger man who had been following them. It’s not like Jack hasn’t seen Reggie before, the man was basically Fontaine’s shadow, but he still saw Jack’s hesitancy of being handed off to a stranger. Frank clicked his tongue with another glance stolen at his watch again - 5 minutes. 

“Reggie’s a good guy, Jack. He protects me, he’ll protect you. Don’t be afraid of ‘im.” 

Jack turned back to Fontaine as he started pacing back up the stairs, big blue eyes wet with a thin line of tears brimming and ready to fall. Christ. At this point, Frank was looking for anything to get the kid comfortable so he could get this damn call over with already. With a wave of his hand, he motioned Jack forward and Reggie followed as well. 

Just at the top of the stairs to the right, there was a spare bedroom that had been collecting cobwebs and dust ever since he bought the place. Bookshelves he took to filling and a spare bedroom set complete with a wardrobe, full twin bed, nightstand, and dresser - not really expecting anyone to use it except maybe the occasional broad he’d bring back from Eve’s. But it’s been months since he last risked his security bringing in random women, realizing it wasn’t worth the potential snooping around on their part or moonlighter turned spy for Ryan. 

For Jack though, it’d be perfect. 

He seemed to have gotten his answer on if the kid would like it or not when he opened the door and Jack audibly gasped at the sight. 

“This - this is my room?” 

“Yep. Everythin’ in this room you’re allowed to read, mess with, play with.” 

Jack jogged into the middle of the room, eyes almost immediately fixed on the large floor-to-ceiling bookshelf lined with almost every piece of literature imaginable. At least, what Frank’s managed to scrape together from what he had on the surface and down in Rapture. 

He checked his watch again - two minutes.

“Alright, Jack - I gotta take this call. But like I said, Reggie should be able to help you unpack an’ show you around a bit.” 

Jack seemed distracted enough with the large window behind the bed also giving a breathtaking view of the city below, and Frank slipped away. Not without giving a nod to Reggie to watch the kid, and he was off to the other end of the second floor, cursing to himself the whole way about almost being late to this damn meeting. 

~*~

In all honesty, the afternoon and evening got away from him a little bit. With the stack of papers on his desk giving all reports on his Department Store, his concentration had been tunneled incredibly so. But who could blame him with how well the Store’s been doing recently. Finding any way he could to one-up Ryan some more and find any excuse to shove it in his face. That was until he heard the steady knocking on the door to the left of the office space, calling Reggie in knowing it immediately to be him. 

“I’m outta here, boss.” He spoke from the doorway. “Unless you plan on goin’ anywhere else tonight?” 

Frank sighed deeply, stretching his arms over his head and wincing with a few spots in his back popping. “Damn, is it eight already?” 

“Yeah, you also might wanna consider feedin’ the kid at some point too.” 

Fuck. 

He stood up immediately from the desk, the suit jacket hanging from the back of the office chair spilling to the floor in a heap; the article abandoned long ago. Frank let it go, however, palms running down his face to relieve the exhaustion and realization he had actually forgotten about Jack already. Reggie looked on with a smirk, stepping aside for Frank to pass through, the door closing behind them. 

“You know, Tenenbaum said you didn’t have to take the kid. And look, if he’s too much - “

“No,” Frank interjected, stopping mid-stride to turn and face Reggie. “That kid deserves better than those labs, deserves better than anythin’ down here in this shit hole. An’ I ain’t ‘bout to throw that kid in the new orphanage or let him continue to be the Kraut’s little experiment.” 

“But - that’s what you paid for? Isn’t it?” Reggie tailed behind the tycoon as they made their way down the stairs to the foyer. 

They stopped just before the door, Frank heaving another sigh before chuckling to himself. “Yeah, that is what I paid for. But, with Rapture threatenin’ to turn on its head an’ then fixin’ itself back up?” He turned to face Reggie with a shrug. “Gotta make some unplanned decisions.” 

The smirk was there again, but not a second later and it softened with Reggie reaching to lay a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Just, don’t go and regret this decision now. Jack’s just a kid. And if you’re serious ‘bout ‘im -” 

“I feel like you’re not givin’ me nearly ‘nough credit either.” Frank scoffed and shrugged his shoulder, Reggie lifting his hand after getting the hint. 

“Guess, Fontaine just really doesn’t seem like the type of guy that would willingly start takin’ care of some kid.” 

The tycoon looked over his shoulder then once hearing a bit of noise from the kitchen, not completely ignoring Reggie’s point but also not acknowledging the one little part of himself he was letting seep into this persona. Reggie moved to swipe open the front door then, the aging wood shuddering and creaking, bringing his attention back. 

“That’s for me to decide, right?” He cracked a smile. “Besides, no one's gotta know what happens behind closed doors. I could dote on this kid as much as I want an’ no idiot in Rapture would know otherwise.” 

“That’s right,” Reggie shuffled to slip his arms through his coat then, dawning his hat after, “‘cause heaven forbid people end up seein’ Fontaine’s soft side.” 

“No one but you an’ Jack, Reg.” 

Reggie huffed another laugh under his breath, shaking his head at this man he’d known for years. Way before either of them had come down to Rapture. And, once thinking about it, there was only one other person who got to see Frank’s soft side, someone both of them thought to be long gone, moved on, married, or whatever she’d be up to now. 

“I gave the kid some milk. He should still be in the kitchen.” 

And with that, Reggie was out the front door, giving one last wave before it closed behind him. Frank stood for a second in the foyer, hands finding solace in his pockets as he turned slightly to the kitchen.

All of this was a huge risk. Bigger than any business decision he’s made down here, bigger than giving the green light for this project involving Jack in the first place. And it wasn’t necessarily because he had the kid here and not in the labs. Jack was probably better off at his place, definitely out of potential prying eyes and less of a chance for anyone random person to walk into the labs and see him. But, anyone would raise a brow at the rumor of Fontaine having some kid staying at his place. A cold-hearted, ruthless tycoon with a stare sharpened to cut the throats of anyone who stood in his way of success. It didn’t add up, and he knew that. And yet, he was dead serious when he told Reggie no one had to know, that no one would know what happened behind his closed doors. No one does anyway, and he’s worked hard at his privacy, keeping every detail about himself as vague as possible.

He kept repeating this to himself as he made his way over to the kitchen, the rest of the apartment growing dark as the sun was already set above the waves.

No one has to know. 

~*~

He had to remind himself he was allowed to smile, seeing Jack sitting at the kitchen island with a glass of milk half-empty resting in his grasp. He was kicking his legs back and forward, the bar stool way too tall for the kid, but he didn’t seem the least bit bothered. He rounded the island counter after clearing his throat, letting Jack know it was him before fixing the button-down’s sleeves rolled over his elbows. 

“Alright, kid - “ he crossed his arms to rest on the countertop. “whatcha hungry for?” 

Jack lowered the glass after taking a sip, the small remains of the milk lining his top lip as the smile was almost immediate. However, a couple of seconds passed and he sunk back down in the chair, eyes leering over toward the container that had been sitting on the other end of the island. 

The medication, sitting in the transparent container with the yellow fluid in each syringe almost glowing, taunted them from across the island. 

“Tenenbaum gives you this stuff before you eat?” 

Another nod and Jack seemed to huddle in on himself more, continuing to side-eye the container as Frank moved to open it. Each syringe looked the same, same amount of fluid with only one label indicating each as either ‘morning’ or ‘evening’. He shifted through a few of them before finding an ‘evening’ labeled syringe. 

“Ok, boyo. The sooner we get this over with the sooner we can get somethin’ to eat.” 

As he stepped closer to reach for his arm, Jack flinched a bit and he stopped his hand mid-reach. And that didn’t settle well with him at all. 

“Come on, Jack.” He extended his hand again, this time the one without the syringe. “I promise it’ll be quick. You’ve done this plenty a’times, yeah?” 

Jack twisted a bit in the seat but kept his gaze on the ugly bright yellow within the syringe. After a couple of silent seconds, he jutted his left arm out for Frank to take. And he made sure not to hesitate in case the kid changed his mind. 

“Ok, kid. You gotta tell me, how did Tenenbaum do this?” 

That seemed to have lifted his spirits, giving Jack back some of the control as he pointed a finger to the plastic covering the needle to the syringe. “You take that off first.” Frank followed, removing the plastic cap. “Then,” He lifted the sleeve of his shirt, pointing to a spot on his upper arm where there already seemed to be a fading bruise from the jab he got this morning. “Miss Tenenbaum puts it in my arm, up here.” 

“Right here?” Frank pointed to a spot below the yellowed bruise and Jack nodded.

“Alright,” He flicked the needle once to clear any bubbles, shaking his head at how thick the needle was, knowing damn well it was going to hurt. “I’ll count. One. Two.”

On three, he stuck the needle and fed the medication through. Even as he was feeding it the fluid felt as thick as blood, Jack’s face twisted slightly in pain the entire time until the syringe was empty. And they both were glad to rid of the thing. Within the container was a pouch he vaguely remembers the kraut telling him to discard all used needles. As he did, he kept an eye on Jack who still sat tensed on the stool, eyes screwed shut and grip on his left arm tightening. 

“You good?” Frank ruffled Jack’s hair a bit to provide at least some comfort. 

Jack nodded again, eyes opening and glassy. “I don’t like that. It feels like pins and needles in my arms.” 

Interesting. “Yeah, I get that kid.” He let another small smile slip before reaching down to wipe off the little bit of milk that was still on Jack’s top lip. “But, you gotta take it, don’t want the ADAM in your system drivin’ you mad.” 

Jack was still coming to terms with the strange substance within him. Knowing he was different from the other children at the labs and in the orphanage, just not quite understanding why. At the same time, it didn’t seem to bother him outside of needing to take the medication twice a day. Other than the extensive naps he took regularly and needing to change clothing sizes every other week, he was just a boy otherwise. He loved to read, draw, and play with the other kids when he was allowed. He just hoped Mr. Fontaine wouldn’t see him as a burden like Miss Tenenbaum and Mr. Suchong sometimes told him he was…

“Now -” Frank closed up the container and left it sitting in its now designated spot at the end of the island, Jack still eyeing it intently as he talked. “You ever have pasta, kid?” 

Pasta? Jack shook his head, sitting up on the stool a bit. “Miss Tenenbaum only let me have fish and peanut butter sandwiches.” 

Christ. “Well, I’m gonna order us some pasta. All the pasta you can eat. Ok?” 

Jack nodded a little more enthusiastically, the smile returning to his face and brightening the room just a bit. Frank couldn’t help the smile either, patting Jack on the shoulder before making his way out into the foyer where one of the landlines sat. He’ll order from the Bistro, they should still be open even with how late it was getting. And even though they might question him for the large order, he was dead set on getting one of each pasta for Jack to try.

There was no way in hell that kid was going to go hungry under his roof. Hungry, unloved, or uncared-for. 

No one had to know.  

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

Anticipation. The pestering consistency of it kept her up all hours of the night. More so than before she started her waitress job at the Fishbowl, than even before her receptionist job at the Futuristics. This was going far beyond taking the stairs one step at a time, instead leaping past each and landing at the top with such a burning false pretense. 

No. She deserved this, had spent so much time and money on the surface to get her degree that would eventually land her the job of her dreams. 

This was the job of her dreams, right? Studying a mysterious species of sea slug that produces and secretes a substance that can completely rewrite a person’s genetic code? At least she had the bragging rights of actually seeing a sea slug of any species, not recalling learning about this marine animal in her graduate classes on the surface.

Nevertheless, the undeniable bounce to her step was obvious, fingers fussing over her bangs which made it apparent, ever since she woke up, that they weren’t going to cooperate. Now, whether the fidgeting and extra energy were from the extra coffee she downed to help steel her nerves or the sheer anticipation of not sitting behind a desk for hours at a time essentially doing nothing. Everything still seemed to blur together as she approached the entrance to the Futuristics, slipping past the bio-scan door with ease as her attention remained forward. She didn’t even spare her previous desk a second glance. She did, however, find her gaze settling on a familiar face just beyond the desk, leaning against the wall of the security office with a cigarette in hand. Silver plumes rose from the end of the cigarette, whips dancing in the air as the potent smell was more apparent the closer she got. 

He didn’t even spare her a second glance either. “You’re late.”

Jane stopped dead in her tracks, finding solace in her purse as she fiddled with the crossbody strap and pulled it in front of her. “Mr. Fontaine, sir, you did tell me to arrive at eight.” 

“Yeah?” He took another drag of the cigarette before snuffing it out in a nearby ash bin. “An’ I’ve got other shit to do. So, let’s get this over with.” 

Her incredulous expression twisted to guilt, ducking in on herself again with her head tilting down to catch the glint of the overhead light in his polished oxfords. Mouth opened again with an apology sitting on the tip of her tongue, but she noticed Fontaine immediately turn then towards the central area. Her jaw clicked shut and she followed with hurried steps to try and keep up.

It would probably sound bad too if she were to say it out loud, but for as long as she’s been a receptionist at the Futuristics, she’s honestly never ventured as far as the security office directly behind her desk. This is why she tried to keep as much composure as she could manage while trailing behind Fontaine, the central area bustling with activity with employees flooding the grand staircase that reached as far up as she could see. More employees could be seen scurrying around off to the right of the staircase where she could make out signs for the Plasmid Showroom. However, before she could ogle more, she noticed then that Fontaine had stepped off to the side before the staircase, and she followed. 

With both hands resting casually in his pockets, she almost didn’t expect his voice to lower then and she had to step closer just to hear him over the activity in the central area. 

“You read th’paperwork I sent you, right?” A nod, “Good, then you know not to go talkin’ ‘bout the next area imma ‘bout to show you.” 

Obediently, footsteps fell directly behind his as they veered off to the left of the staircase where the bathrooms and a Med Bay sat. What she didn’t notice right away was another hallway just opposite the bathrooms that seemed barren and irrelevant enough to garner interest from any employee. However, as they got closer, she noticed a door with an ominous “OFF LIMITS” sign covering the porthole window. It must have been genetically locked anyway as she watched Fontaine pull a hand from his pocket to place his thumb on a coded pad right next to the door’s handle. It beeped, flashed green, and they were through. Jane looked back for a split second to see if anyone had been watching them only to see no one else in the hallway. No one except a whirring security camera back towards where they had come from, the lens of the camera pointed directly at them with a visible red recording light pulsing.

Things from there only got more mysterious as they entered an airlock chamber, used for divers to venture out into the ocean. There was another separate hallway just before the airlock chamber that seemed to tunnel out if the sudden change in lighting were to tell her anything. From the warm fluorescent bulbs of the overhead lights to the sudden coolness of the ocean out beyond the transparent tunnel. Although, with how deep the Futuristics sat, it was more of a grayish-blue that paled her skin as they ventured through. Fontaine had been silent the entire time, and she mused internally to herself about the paperwork she had to read and sign before taking this new job position. 

Apparently, she couldn’t tell anyone in or outside the company where this place was, and if anyone asked, she was to tell them she worked in the Plasmid labs - nothing more. Maybe, in all honesty, the safety and ease of her receptionist desk hadn’t been so bad…if that meant she wasn’t at risk of getting fired with just one accidental slip-up. 

Soon the view of the ocean disappeared once the tunnel brought them to another building, this one a tad more hidden compared to the Futuristics; with the natural landscape starting to take shape around the building as the tunnel descended to a series of stairs. It was then she started to realize the secrecy around the ADAM research and, while ADAM was no secret in Rapture, the research itself at the Futuristics certainly was. And the responsibility was already starting to settle on her shoulders then knowing she was going to be a part of it. 

“Alright, kid -” His voice echoing within the otherwise empty space jolted her back from her thoughts and her gaze flipped up to him. “Tenenbaum will getcha set up with the genetic lock on the door. That will work on this door an’ up at the tunnel entrance.” As he talked, she watched him use the same pad as before, another beep and a flash of green welcomed them through. 

Honestly, someone should have warned her about the candy land she was about to enter, all nervousness melting from her conscious as pure excitement almost caused her jaw to drop then and there - almost - she had some self-control. 

The first thing to immediately snag her attention was the giant tank on the floor below them that looked to be filled already with different reef fish and a few smaller sharks, and sea stars sticking to the sides with the natural debris of the ocean floating in there as well. Interesting, it must be funneling straight from the ocean with the fish able to come and go freely. 

It took a second for Jane to realize that Fontaine was moving again. She grabbed at her purse’s strap before following him down the steps to the left from the landing they arrived on from the tunnel. The heel of her shoes clacked against the metal of the steps, legs extending just a bit to try and keep up with him and she felt her breathing start to quicken. Hell, if she knew she’d also be running around the labs today, she would have worn better shoes. 

After entering another couple of doors, each passing room more and more intriguing with what looked like large holding containers - with nothing in them and other large vats with a goopy yellow substance glowing in the fluorescent lights of the lab. Security cameras looked like they sat in almost every corner of every room, red light flashing and whirring sound a constant in the background until they finally reached where Fontaine was leading her. 

A woman just ahead and she immediately recognized her. It was Tenenbaum, and Jane could hardly help another smile. 

“Hey, Tenenbaum -” He called out again and she felt herself jump for the second time, not ready for his voice to project against the walls surrounding them. “Finally got that assistant forya.” 

The term “assistant” rattled in her head for a bit, trying not to take it in such a derogatory way. And the smile only fell just a bit as the scientist came forward from the table she had been working over. 

“Hush, she will only be my assistant for a month or so before working on her own.”

The swell to her chest returned and Jane felt herself perk up again. Tenenbaum must have noticed this in the couple of seconds she took to turn to her, extending a hand to greet her formally. 

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Carter. Of course, this time in a more preferred environment?” 

Jane took her hand to shake it as well - nodding in agreement with thoughts running a million miles an hour with numerous different things she wanted to thank the scientist for. The opportunity, allowing her to leave that receptionist's desk, and hopefully that aforementioned pay raise to go with this new job. Instead, all she could do was beam and somehow she knew the other woman would understand. 

“Alright,” Fontaine spoke up from next to her, “I’ll leave you to it.” He turned to her then with a smirk. “Try not to blow anythin’ up on your first day, ok Doll?” 

Eyes bugged with how ridiculous it sounded, but Jane found herself nodding to reassure him that of course - why would she ever think of blowing something up on the first day of her new job? Such nonsense must have been typical enough if Tenenbaum’s eye roll was anything to go by. They both watched him leave through the door they had come through, a sort of tension leaving with him as well as Jane sighed, shoulders sagging. 

“Brigid, I couldn’t tell you what I would have done if there wasn’t a familiar face in these labs.” 

With a huff, the scientist returned to the table she had been working at. “If it is Fontaine you’re worried about, know that here in these labs - you have the advantage over him.” 

Jane took a second to let her eyes wander around the space, small steps walking the perimeter to look at all the charts, equipment, and scattered documents on the ADAM research. 

“Oh, I’m not worried about him, just -” She paused once seeing a few live ADAM slugs gathered in a fish tank, leaning in to get a better look at them, “what I’m getting myself into.” 

She heard the clanking of metal behind her before the statement. “Please, Jane, if I did not see any use in having you join the slug research, I would not have told Fontaine to promote you.” 

True. She had a strange gut feeling something else was awaiting her when she was interviewed for the receptionist job, casually throwing in that she had the degree and experience. And Tenenbaum looked at her with something she couldn't quite place at the time, the gears turning in the other woman’s head. Fontaine just needed to trust her first, then after that, she was a shoo-in for the slug research. 

According to Tenenbaum, guess it all worked out if she was finally standing here in one of the most secluded and secretive places in Rapture. 

Jane realized then she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the slugs in the tank. The things were so alien-like with greenish-gray bodies barely the length of her forearm, and solid yellow eyes that appeared to be glowing under the limited light they sat under. Bioluminescent yellow spots lined each side of the slug as its head seemed to bulge along the front sides; and while she wanted to grimace at the things, she couldn’t help but be completely fascinated. 

“So, Brigid -” She called over to the scientist, “what exactly am I going to be doing with these little guys?” 

Tenenbaum had joined her side then, messing with the pressure on a valve going into the tank to ensure there was some decent water flow. 

“You are going to help me study these slugs to find out about their reproduction and different habits and patterns. What they like to eat, where we could possibly find their habitats.” 

“So, basically catalog these slugs.”

“Exactly.” A smile, one she found to be rare on the other woman, but obvious whenever she was excited about something. “Fontaine had made the point before that these slugs are not reliable, especially in the smaller numbers the divers tend to return with.” 

She fiddled more with the lights above the tank as she spoke. “We have certain measures in place to help ensure we have enough ADAM for plasmids and the like. But, if we were to find out where these slugs prefer to live, instead of the divers finding them scattered along the sea floor, we could host a whole observation tank and rely on their reproduction inside the city.” 

“You mean - disrupt their natural balance as a species?” 

The shrug didn’t come right away, Tenenbaum had paused for a second to process what she had said first. “Not completely. Their reproduction is the key, we just need enough to start the process and then breed the rest -”

“In captivity?” 

Another pause and Jane took a step away from the tank with her mind swirling now on how she didn’t like where this research was going all of a sudden. 

“Brigid, as a biologist, it’s natural for me to be curious about marine life and want to study them but, when it comes to potentially risking a species population for research -” 

And it wasn’t as if Tenenbaum was disagreeing with her, they were equally stuck under the capitalistic thumb of both Fontaine and Rapture. 

Jane watched as Tenenbaum turned the light completely off over the tank and the slugs started to move around a bit more. 

There was a sigh and a dip to her shoulders before the other woman turned to face her. “Jane, I do not want you to think that we are jeopardizing a marine species, the process to collect ADAM does not endanger the lives of these slugs. However -” another small smile, “with you here, you can keep track of the slugs. How many the divers bring in, how many we keep in the tanks -” 

The suggestions weren’t a complete turn-off and Jane found her grip along her purse’s strap again, twisting the leather material as she thought on it. 

“I guess…it’s not that bad - if I’m here to monitor everything...” 

Another smile, “Sehr gut.” And with that, Tenenbaum was trailing back to the table she had been working at to close a few books and containers, a slight pep to her step. Not before she called back toward Jane again, “We will get you set up with the door’s genetic locks now, yes?” 

Guess the vague confirmation was all she needed, and Jane tried to hide her amused smile the best she could before following Tenenbaum out of the lab. She snuck a quick glance back to the slug tank before letting the door shut behind her, questioning everything now and what she thought this job was going to be. 

She was going to have her work cut out for her if anything.

~*~

Just up the stairs to the second floor, then around the corner before the third floor, you'll find his office.  

Apparently, she couldn’t miss it, unless she was blind to the giant sign hanging above his door with “OFFICE OF FRANK FONTAINE” all capitalized. Not really necessary, but the Futuristics was large enough, maybe it was so no one got lost? She would surely assume she’d be in the wrong place if it was his office she was trying to avoid in the first place. 

Nevertheless, she approached the door after seeing the secretary's desk of the office empty. She honestly wasn’t even sure Fontaine himself was still here, but it was worth a shot. Her rent payment this month counted on him.

A hesitant fist lifted to knock three times without a response. 

“Mr. Fontaine?” She knocked again, lowering her hand to test the door, finding it to be unlocked and it stuttered open to let her through. However, an empty office greeted her, and she sighed heavily. Still, why would his door be unlocked if he wasn’t here? Maybe if she waited inside, giving him at least a few minutes, and if she didn’t catch him, she hoped Sinclair would understand and give her another week for her rent…hopefully. 

Fingers found the strap of her purse again and she fiddled with the metal clasp while attempting to stay towards the front of his office. However, the grand space itself and the giant stuffed polar bear towards his desk were tempting enough. How on earth does someone get something like that down in Rapture anyway? Jane took a few careful steps forward from the front door, eyes trained up and scanning the numerous paintings along the short walkway that led to his desk. It was surprising to find that none of the paintings depicted the big shot himself, some of the people she didn’t even recognize but assumed they were important heads in Rapture. That, or Fontaine just really got his kicks from having the most random and unusual decor. 

She didn’t realize how far she wandered into his office until her back bumped his desk, her attention busy looking up at the skylight overhead watching a school of fish passing by. Her Jaw dropped slightly now that she could get a good look at the taxidermied bear up close, surprised overall at just how massive it was. For the man’s ego though it was probably perfect. 

“What the hell are you doin’ in ‘ere?” 

The voice rattled off the walls, startling her as she turned ready to spill a thousand apologies. The razor sharpness to line his tone followed with quick steps as he moved towards her. Jane braced herself as he grabbed for her arm, tugging her back towards the door to his office. Fear rattled at her chest, feeling like she was a kid just caught with her hand mid-grab deep into the cookie jar. 

“Mr. Fontaine - wait. I’m sorry, I did knock - but your door was open -” Her breathing quickened as fear turned to panic, thinking he was just going to shove her out without giving her a chance to explain why she was even here. 

The growling undertone in his voice surprised her just as much as well, “Just ‘cause the door was open don’t mean you get a free invitation in.” 

She was helpless as he dragged her along with him, the paintings above now a blur until they reached the front door. And yet, her palm still managed to suddenly jut out to keep him from throwing her from his office completely stopping both in their tracks. 

“Wait, sir - again, I’m so sorry. But, I have something to ask you about.” 

Steel blue eyes narrowed with arms crossing, the ice already forming between them and she had to tread carefully. 

“That paperwork I had to sign, it mentioned a pay raise along with the new job promotion?” 

“Yeah? Whatof it?” 

Hands rung themselves in front of her. “Well, I was wondering when that raise would take effect, when I’d start seeing it on my paychecks, please?” 

A scoff and she felt the weight and anxiety building in her chest sink to her stomach. 

“Yeah? Didn’t think to go to HR ‘bout somethin’ like that?” 

“Um - Brigid actually told me to come to you…directly.” 

He stood there for a second, eyes zipping down quickly to snag on her hands twisting the poor life out of her purse’s strap before muttering under his breath. “Fuckin’ Kraut.” 

He turned then back into his office as she stood in the doorway. It wasn't until he took a few steps and looked back, she realized she was meant to follow him then. Careful this time, she padded behind him as he reached his desk, sorting through a few stacks of papers before finding it; her contract.

It was a few seconds of silence before he spoke up again. “Looks like you’ll start seein’ the raise on next week’s paycheck.” 

Her heart sank. Next week? A whole other week? The look of disappointment must have been obvious, and Fontaine lowered the form with a smirk. 

“What? Owe someone money or somethin’?” 

A nod, “Yes, actually. My landlord raised my rent last month and I told him I was getting a pay raise to help cover the first payment with the higher cost.” She felt her chest constrict with more panic, “It’s already been two weeks since my rent was due. I’m not sure how much longer he’s gonna give me -” 

It took everything to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, trying to keep her voice clear and calm to not outwardly show the anxiety of being homeless. That reality was starting to rear its ugly head enough with continuous reminders to pay up being taped to her door when she’d get home. And yet, while she refused to look the other man in the eyes, fearing she’d lose all composure, the sigh he let out then was unmistakable. 

He was moving again, to the right of his desk where numerous filing cabinets sat. While more grumbling mingled with the metallic sound of the cabinets being pulled out, it was another several seconds until he came back with another paper in hand. 

“Here - give this to your landlord.” 

Foggy eyes finally looked up to him, then to the paper as he explained. 

“Gotta give somethin’ to Ryan, - there’s a law he’s got that mentions somethin’ about landlords allowing their tenants some leeway with payments; it’s gotta be approved by the tenant’s employer first.” 

“That’s what this letter is?” She spoke around the crack in her voice. 

“Yep.” He pointed to the bottom where his signature was already. “Should give you until next week when you can make the payment.” 

Relief flooded her and she couldn’t help the small smile that scanned the paper, then lifted to him. 

“I - thank you so much, Mr. Fontaine.” 

The equally small smile returned was enough as she folded the paper up to fit into her purse. Figuring she might be taking advantage of her stay, she thanked him one last time before making her way back to the door. As she waited for the aging wood to shutter open, Jane heard him call out to her again. 

“Hey, didn’t burn anythin’ down your first day?” 

She could confidently shake her head at that and chuckled to herself. “Not at all, sir.” 

His own brief scoff was laced with amusement and she couldn’t help the quirk to her lips at the sound.

“Guess that means we get to keep you then.”

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

For the first time in a long time, it felt like she could just breathe. 

For the last few months, hell, for the last few years, it seemed as if she was throwing caution to the wind. Leaving life to chance and moving with the punches. It was exhausting, honestly, not knowing what tomorrow would bring. And yet, while she had a routine of sorts even when she was working at the Fishbowl, there was still so much uncertainty about what her future held. Especially when she’d fight with herself every day on how her degree, framed and in a suitcase somewhere, was doing just that - being stored away without use. Jane left the surface with the intention of finding something down in Rapture for herself. Opportunities, freedom, possibilities, hope. And now, finally, it felt like luck was on her side. The exhaustion of waiting for something to happen was now gone, at least for the time being. 

Nothing felt more satisfying than entering the ADAM research labs, shoes clicking against the tile flooring as she took the familiar route back to her lab. Her lab. The same space that seemed to evolve day by day with tanks of the ADAM sea slugs taking up more space, new equipment being found in every corner as Tenenbaum requested them for her. Whatever she needed, she had at her disposal, and it all almost felt too good to be true. 

So did these ADAM slugs. 

The pen scratching against the thin paper on her clipboard was fading into the background as the rushing of the tank’s filtering system started back up again. Having messed with the overall system, she was curious to know if these slugs were filter feeders that preferred fast-moving currents. If this was true, they might be able to find these slugs closer to the surface around reefs, if not, they would need to stay deeper around the barrier of the city if they hoped to find more of them. So far, the slugs were rather dormant, the four currently in the tank she was observing laying completely still. 

Jane lifted the end of the pen up to her bottom lip, tapping it a few times before humming to herself. 

“I wonder -” 

Having watched Brigid mess with another tank the first day she was at the lab, she remembers the other scientist turning off the light above the tank - seeing a bit of movement then. A hand reached up to the light above this tank and did just that, turned it off. Almost immediately they started moving, nothing coordinated, the movement rather slow and mindless. But, it gave her the conclusion that they were indeed nocturnal, making another note as she moved in closer to the tank.

Nothing from her classes on the surface could have prepared her for something like this. And while she tried her best at least to identify the basics about these slugs, curiosity couldn’t help but pick at her brain at the possibilities. 

What if these slugs could do more than provide humans with essentially a genetic miracle? Regenerating dead, dying, or wounded cells, allowing the blind to see, and the crippled to walk. What if - what if it could save a dying species? Help to control the populations of endangered marine species? Revive extinct species? Of course, enable to even imagine a feat like that, they would need ADAM by the boatload to start. Regardless, she quickly scribbled these thoughts onto the bottom blank page in the stack secured to the clipboard. Notes to return to in the future once she understood these slugs more and ADAM’s overall potential. 

She actually didn’t realize how long she had been working, going back and forward between the slugs in the tank and her basics notes, before she heard Brigid call to her from her lab’s door. 

“Miss Carter? I am leaving for the night.”

Her head whipped around with eyes focusing for a second, moving from her clipboard to the other scientist from across the room. She checked her watch then as well, a huff puffing against the face of the watch once realizing the time. 

“Wow, it’s 8:30 already?” Jane chuckled a bit to herself. “And you don’t have to call me Miss Carter, Brigid. You can call me Jane.” 

Brigid gave her a small smile accompanied by a slight nod. “Don’t forget to lock your lab’s door - again.” She turned around to leave but stopped for a second, head looking back at Jane who hugged the clipboard to her chest and the smile was a tad more genuine. “Have a good night, Jane.” 

Jane lifted a hand to give a quick wave before the door slid closed, that same hand immediately going to the pocket of her lab coat to feel for the door’s keycard. Luckily she hadn’t forgotten it this time, fingers finding the square edge of the card easily, and she sighed in relief. 

It was probably about time she started winding things down anyway, especially if she was losing track of time already. Honestly, if Brigid hadn’t come in to tell her she was leaving, she’d most certainly be working into the early hours of the morning without realizing it. 

Not that she hasn’t done it before. 

The routine of filing away all her notes and paperwork took her another half hour, making sure she fed the slugs a bit before leaving. The last thing she needed was to come into the lab the next day with dead specimens to work from. And of course, as she started shutting off all the lights, her fingers gripped the card in her pocket, even making sure everything was locked with a test of the door’s panel.

The second to last thing she also needed was Brigid confronting her the next morning about how her door wasn’t locked - again. 

She took the usual route back to the entrance of the labs from the Futuristic’s central area, finding the rest of the labs to be eerily quiet and empty. At the same time, with how late it was, people usually never tended to stay past 5:30 or so - the nightlife within Fort Frolic or Apollo Square was more appealing than working late into the evening. Even if it was a Monday. 

Maybe if nights out like that appealed to her at all, she wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally spending all night staring at slugs. To each their own. 

At the same time, it was almost peaceful not having the crowds to navigate through as she exited the tunnel to the labs and traversed the Futuristics. There were still a few people here and there milling around the central area, more so around the plasmid testing labs. But the lack of people to squeeze through in the lobby and the empty space of the Express’ entrance gave her an air of calm she very much needed. Never mind the growling to suddenly erupt from her stomach, leftovers from the previous night awaited her but she’d welcome it after a long day. 

The ride back had been equally as quiet, most people were already out for the evening resulting in the Express sub being fairly empty as well. Relishing in calm and quiet, she focused on the chugging of the sub as it moved along the tracks suspended above. A couple of starfish sat stuck to the window she had chosen, almost framing the city that lay beyond. Passing the neon lights of Arcadia and the Farmer’s Market, distant signs of Dionysus Park also glowing in the darkness of the surrounding waters. She almost missed the view when the sub started descending to the docking station of Pauper’s Drop, the forgotten pits of Rapture lying almost under the lavish buildings of the city. But, it was home. And she longed to rid herself of her current footwear and indulge in some half-eaten trout. 

While the Futuristics may have been a ghost town, the Drop always seemed to be buzzing with activity no matter what time of day it was. The Fishbowl Diner was just as busy with groups of people gathered around here and there talking, some playing music and others circling around some poor sod trying to spout any political nonsense involving Andrew Ryan. It was easy to get caught up in a space that never saw the sunlight, a space that seemed to have no perception of time. There were instances when working at the Fishbowl when she found herself out much later than she intended after a long shift. Talking with friends and coworkers over a few drinks, she’d find herself stumbling into her apartment around three in the morning, completely at a loss. And yet, she still found a sort of joy in it she never experienced on the surface. 

Especially anything that involved friends, her circle being quite small and selective on the surface with her social life extending to who was in her classes and patrons at the bar she worked at. This is why, even after being down in Rapture as long as she has, it was still a shock to see two of her closest friends waiting for her at the front of the Fishbowl as they usually do. Even with how late it was and the extra time she took at the labs, the comforting smiles of Ann and James warmed her very soul. 

Ann waved to her first as they both left their spots in front of the diner to meet her halfway. 

“Girl, where have you been? You usually don’t get back this late.” 

James took the spot to her left, his form so much taller as he towered over both her and Ann. 

“I’m sorry, I hate to make you guys wait for me. I honestly lost track of time, I was so invested in what I was working on.” She answered with a shrug and a sheepish smile to her best friend. 

Ann only rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep her own grin. “Alright, but don’t make us wait again. I swear if we waited around any longer, they were gonna call me back into work.” 

Jane could only shrug at that as they started walking towards the tunnel to the Deluxe, “If I were you in that case, I’d just tell them to pay me for the extra hours.” 

The other woman stopped in her tracks, humming to herself and looking back at the diner for a quick second before pacing after them. 

“I just might have to try that sometime.” 

The three of them ventured through the tunnels, laughter, and gossip from the day bouncing off the glass surrounding them like a bubble. And even in the lobby of the Deluxe, groups of people gathered with some looking as if they were returning from The Limbo dressed in their best evening wear. They said their goodbyes to James who left for his apartment on the first floor. Riding the elevator to the 5th floor, it almost wasn’t a surprise to see a few more couples getting a little too cozy just around the corner, attention immediately turning to the two women with equally embarrassed and annoyed expressions. 

“So, everythin’s goin’ ok at the new job?” Ann asked, continuing their conversation from the elevator as she started asking Jane about the Futuristics. Finding it quickly that Jane, unfortunately, couldn’t talk about much but could still reassure her friend that everything was hopefully alright. 

“It’s only been a week, but so far things are fine.” She sighed, unable to help the smile to tug at her lips. “If anything, it feels like for the first time I actually love my job.” 

Ann perked up at that as well, bumping Jane’s arm with her own in excitement. “That’s good! It’s about time. I mean, you were good at the Fishbowl, an’ customers still ask about you - but it’s not where you belonged.”

She scoffed. “It’s not like you belong there either, Ann. If anything you should be a chef at the Kashmir or Silver Fin. They could probably use someone as talented as you.” 

With the smirk thrown her way, she had practically asked for it. “You’re right. Know if they’re hirin’ or not? Someone you could talk to at all? Ad in the Tribune?” 

Jane elbowed her back in the arm and they both giggled. “You never know. If I’m successful enough in this job and find myself becoming a regular at the Silver Fin, I could put a word in.” 

“Ha!” Ann stopped them several feet from Jane’s apartment. “You? A regular at the Silver Fin? Girl, you said you hated that place. What makes you think you’d go back there even if you had the money an’ social status?” 

Honestly, why would she? And yet, another shrug answered her friend’s question and Ann rolled her eyes again. 

“Whatever. You just gotta promise me if you become so successful doin’ whatever it is you’re doin’ up there - you don’t forget about James an’ I.” 

She felt her heart melt at how sincere Ann sounded then, “You think I’m gonna forget about you guys so easily?” Jane reached to bring her best friend into a hug, pulling her in close as Ann returned the embrace with arms squeezing just as hard. “I don’t think you’ll let me.” 

“You’re damn right I won’t.”

They separated seconds later, the two exchanging goodnights before Ann nodded her head over Jane’s shoulder towards her apartment’s door. 

“It looks like you have somethin’ taped to your door too. Might be an inspection notice, I just got one the other day.”

Jane tilted her head back for a second to indeed see a paper stuck in the center of her door and thanked her friend for the notice. She’s been meaning to do a thorough cleaning of her place anyway. However, as Ann turned to venture back to her own apartment, Jane paced to hers and felt her heart drop to her stomach once she saw what the letter was taped to her door. 

Dread immediately tightened her chest and she called back with her voice breaking “A-Ann!”

~*~

“Eviction notice?” Ann turned the paper around in her grasp, checking the back of it a few times as if she’d magically see something to prove this wasn’t her friend being evicted from her apartment. 

Attention turned back to Jane who had been pacing in front of the coffee table, knuckles to her lips as she worried the skint there, brows drawn tight. 

“What the hell happened that would warrant you an eviction notice? You’re practically a perfect tenant.” She slapped the paper to the coffee table, huffing in frustration for her friend. 

Jane stopped in her tracks, palm coming up to cradle the growing headache along her temples. 

The next few words were mumbled under her breath, “I haven’t paid this month’s rent yet.” 

She didn’t need to look over at her friend to see the look of shock, Ann practically held her to that “perfect tenant” standard, she might as well have told her she went up and slapped Sinclair himself. But, before Ann could even ask her twenty questions, Jane looked over to her and sighed. 

“They raised my rent, and I knew with this new job position, I’d be getting a pay raise - and that raise was enough to cover this month’s rent.” 

The other woman sputtered briefly before shaking her head, “And you - you just didn’t pay it? Didn’t talk to the leasing office?” 

“I went to Fontaine -” Jane moved to sit on the arm of the couch, “He gave me this form after he told me the raise won’t go through till this Friday. Something to give to the leasing office that was supposed to give me time until I got the money.” 

The look Ann was giving her then could have made her laugh if it was any other situation, incredulous and confused. “Fontaine? An’ you believed him?” 

The throbbing along her temples was starting to cloud her vision, and she rested her forehead in her palms again. “I know, but I looked up the form and this law Ryan has and it was all legit. I pneumoed the letter when I got home from work that night, but -” She eyed the notice sitting on the edge of the coffee table, “they had to have received it, I-I mean…” 

“Did you call them at all, the leasing office? Just to make sure?” 

Palms ran down her face, not a thought about potentially ruining her makeup as she heaved another sigh. “No, I haven’t. I guess I could tomorrow? I’m not sure if it matters or will do anything.” 

The hand on her back made her flinch a bit at first, but she couldn’t help but melt when Ann started to run her palm along her shoulder blade to comfort her. 

“I mean, you can always try. How long are they givin’ you on the notice?” 

They both leaned forward to eye the paper still taking up too much space on the coffee table. 

“Till Friday -” Jane scoffed, “If they would have waited, I’d have this month’s rent by this Friday.” 

Ann’s high-pitched laugh startled her, “Then call them! Girl, that ain’t right at all if you handed over this supposed paperwork an’ they’re doin’ this to you.” 

She was right. Fontaine, while she couldn’t find a reason to trust him wholeheartedly, still gave her this new job position, the raise, and the paperwork to guarantee her landlord she’d have rent to them as soon as that pay raise took place. Either it was an honest mistake, or the leasing office was screwing her over big time. 

“Ok,” Jane stood from the arm of the couch, head still pounding but motives much stronger now knowing she at least had Ann on her side. “I’ll call them first thing tomorrow before I leave for the lab.” 

Ann stood up with her, not before giving the notice on the table one last scowl. “Good, promise to keep me updated? We could even do breakfast tomorrow before you head in and you can fill me in on everything.” 

Jane couldn’t help the smile, spirits already lifting with the hope that everything would be fine. Ann was here for her and Fontaine would probably back her up if she asked. Everything was going to be ok. By Friday, she’ll have her rent payment over to the leasing office, her eviction notice waved, and her days returning to normal again. 

Right?

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

Ann was always good at reading her expressions even before a single word could leave her mouth. And yet, she felt like anyone could recognize the look of deep disappointment and dread pulling at her facade like a thousand-pound weight. Needless to say, sleep was also a stranger with the anxiety of what was to come and whether she’d be able to save her apartment or not. No amount of makeup could hide the circles under her eyes this morning. 

She didn’t need to say anything to Ann as her friend immediately mirrored her own expression. 

“I take it the phone call didn’t go too well?” 

Jane pulled out the chair across from Ann, the metal scraping like nails on a chalkboard against the stone of a small cafe in Arcadia. Practically dropping herself into the chair, her entire body slumped forward with arms barely holding her up against the table. 

“It was pointless. I might as well not have called them at all.” 

A scoff, “What was their excuse?” 

Tired hands took the glass of water sitting to the right of her plate. She honestly felt really guilty, her dear friend taking to ordering breakfast for her, and yet she couldn’t even find in herself to have any sort of appetite. 

“They would have needed me to submit the paperwork prior to when rent was due this month, in order to save the apartment and push back the rent’s payment.” The chill of the water was welcomed then as she took a sip, feeling sick and nauseous all morning since the phone call. 

However, the sudden slam of Ann’s glass to the table not only turned a few heads around them but made her jump as well - spilling a few drops of water in her lap in the process. 

“And how the hell would you have known that!” Ann fumed, “Did you tell them you could get the money to them this Friday?” 

Jane’s shoulders only slumped more as she reached for a napkin to dab at the water droplets on the skirt of her dress. “I did, but apparently they have my eviction paperwork pushed so far that they already have someone set up to move in after I leave.”  

“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” 

The dots of water on the fabric were becoming blurry as tears started to well up in her eyes, threatening to spill and add to the blotchy pattern on her thigh. And yet, no matter how scratchy and sore her throat was suddenly becoming while holding back every sob, she was determined to show that she wasn’t the least bit scared about becoming homeless at the end of the week. Ann must have noticed she was taking a long time to respond and calmed herself down a bit for Jane’s sake. 

“You can always come to live with me, Jane. I know I might not have the room for all your stuff - but I was talkin’ to James the other day about usin’ one of the storage rooms under the complex anyway.” 

She took a second to compose herself, using the napkin she was blindly dabbing on her dress to quickly wipe away the tears before they could fall. 

“No, no, Ann it’s ok. I couldn’t do that to you, not when your apartment is just as small as mine.” 

Ann gave her a look then, her famous look that could change her mind and get Jane on her side in a heartbeat. And yet, she couldn’t do that to her best friend. Two people living in the limited square footage that Ann had would be an invasion of the privacy she already had, and could potentially leave her homeless as well. 

“Plus, if the leasing office finds out that you have an extra person living with you that you don’t have on the lease?” 

Ann huffed and took a sip of the mimosa she’d been nursing for the past several minutes. “You’re my best friend, Jane. You know I’d do anythin’ for you.” 

“I know,” Jane crumbled the napkin in her fist and eyed the glass of water again, feeling the heat of another wave of nausea roll over her. “And I’d do the same for you without question. But…I’ll figure something out. Find another complex or a hotel, something.” 

“So, you’re not gonna try to fight back? It’s wrong, what they’re doin’.” 

“Ann,” Jane squeezed her eyes shut then to try to will away the frustration and nausea. “I did all I could. But they’re already moving someone in when I move out. And even if I had no other choice, I don’t think I’d want another apartment in that complex anyway.” 

Her hand reached then for the glass of water, the condensation along the glass still chilled and she took another small sip. Watching Ann then, she only hummed in response and eyed the food she still hadn’t touched. 

“Just…let me know if you need help with anythin’ at all. I have at least some room to help hang onto some of your stuff if you need it.” 

“Thank you.” Jane lowered the glass and reached to start gathering up her purse. “I might take you up on that. But, I gotta get to the labs.” 

“Promise to keep me updated?” 

Jane stood and looped her purse’s strap over her shoulder, scooting the chair in with a little more finesse this time. “Of course, I promise, Ann.” She gave a small smile. “I just have to think about things for a bit. I’m hoping just taking time in my lab will help to clear my head.” 

Ann only gave a smile of her own in reply and waved her hand to the untouched food. “Just make sure you eat somethin’ later today too. I’ll save this in case you want it tonight.”

She left then with a wave and started back towards the Express station, thoughts bombarding her again on Ann’s offer and what exactly she was going to do. Footsteps almost drug against the cobbled streets of Arcadia with attention forward and unwavering, drowning in her own thoughts. She only had a few days for that matter, and whether or not she was going to let it overwhelm her was her decision, not that it wasn’t just slightly overwhelming already. For the time being, she kept reassuring herself internally that she still had a paycheck regardless, one that was actually significantly better than the one she had as the Futuristics’ receptionist. And while it was too late to save her current apartment, the idea of staying in a hotel appeared as her only option. 

The one thing plaguing her thoughts was just how long would that last. Jane’s seen others become victims to Rapture’s natural selection, and yet she always thought nothing of it as she’d find herself safe and stable with the simplistic life and routine. Down here, however, that seemed to be the riskiest, a life teetering on the edge where one simple slip-up would be one’s demise. Left to a dank hotel down near the Fisheries, or the streets of Apollo Square. Even Fontaine’s Home for the Poor was stuffed to the gills with a wait list, left wondering what’s the worst that could have happened for a space to open up and welcome the next poor sod. 

She’d have to find a way to change that impending outcome. Whatever it took.

~*~

Jane knew very well that just staring at the sea slugs wasn’t going to provide her with the information she needed. Especially when she decided she wanted to study them to figure out how they were producing the ADAM, and maybe if the production of the substance was aided by the slugs’ diet or their reaction to the environment, a sort of survival mechanic. But she couldn’t help the mindless tapping of her pencil against the desk as she watched with unseeing eyes the slugs wiggle around in the dark tank, opposite palm supporting her chin as she sighed. 

What the hell was she going to do?

Even with the new paycheck, it still wouldn’t be enough to pay for a hotel room every night for too long, maybe not even enough to afford a new apartment - especially an apartment outside of the Drop. She knew Brigid was able to afford a place over in Mercury Suites, but then again, she’s been in Rapture a tad longer than herself. She heard that they were practically giving away apartments and housing when people were first entering the city. 

And then what about her belongings? Ann said she could keep some of her larger furniture pieces, maybe keep some of her other things in that storage room she had also mentioned. But then that would mean visiting Ann and the Drop every time she would need a pair of shoes or whatever that she’d initially forget. Ann also worked crazier hours than she did, not wanting to disturb her friend during her few hours off and away from the Fishbowl Diner. 

The tapping of her pencil became quicker, more erratic, and on the next bounce of the eraser against the desk, she found the pencil to jump from her hand and onto the floor a few feet from her. She tried to suppress the annoyed groan of having to get up and retrieve her pencil, knowing Brigid to still be across from her in her lab setting up a new piece of equipment. After hearing the constant tapping be cut off abruptly and a slight click following, the other scientist turned with a raised brow. 

“Is everything alright?” 

Jane nodded with a fake smile as she bent to retrieve the pencil. “Uh, yeah - everything’s fine.” 

Tenenbaum tilted her head a bit as she watched Jane return to her seat. “Are you sure? You have been staring at those slugs ever since I came in here.” 

Clearing her throat, Jane nodded again and forced another smile. “I’m fine, Brigid. I just…didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. My mind’s a little all over the place.” 

The look she gave her then was enough to tell her the other scientist wasn’t convinced. And yet, Brigid didn’t push the matter any further. Instead, she walked out of her lab to grab another piece of equipment, Jane’s attention going back to the tank for just a moment before she heard Brigid call to her. 

“Would you like to help move and organize this equipment instead? It is your lab, best to leave it to you to place things where you would like them.” 

It wasn’t a bad idea. It was mindless work that would help to maybe untangle her thoughts. Slipping down from the stool, she smoothed out the creases in her lab coat before eyeing the equipment on the nearby table. Everything from microscopes to burners to more tanks for any other aquatic life she wanted to bring in. Brigid was also still bringing in more things either from her own lab that she didn’t use or specific pieces that Jane had requested once starting this job. Doing a quick scan of her lab, she realized then that she actually had a good bit of space for a few extra pieces of equipment if needed.

Beakers and burners went into cabinets, the microscope onto a shelf in a closet, and various-sized tanks into lower cabinets under the lab’s sink. And she still had a good bit of space left. 

Like…the other still empty closet for her clothes and shoes - more unused cabinet space for a few of her belongings. There was a shower in her lab for chemical baths, but it was still a shower. The burners were big enough for a pan or basic pot…a tea kettle. 

What if…

“That should be everything.” 

The clang of another tank on the metal table she stood next to startled her from her thoughts. She looked from the tank to the other scientist, thanking her as Brigid gave a small smile in response and returned to her lab. 

It was a dumb idea anyway. Bunking in her lab? If anyone found out she’d be immediately kicked out of the space, probably even fired. Which was worse than ending up completely homeless. This job at least guaranteed her a paycheck to maybe cover for a few days in a hotel - maybe. But a hotel also wasn’t a good permanent solution. If she had any hopes of finding stability somewhere, it would be at another complex. 

And she’d be damned if that complex ended up being the Sinclair Deluxe. 

Choosing instead to work on organizing her lab more and setting up any necessary tanks, which kept her occupied long enough to give her predicament the occasional thought. Otherwise, she found distraction in placing a few tropical fish species into a tank that some fishermen had found for her along a reef during a surface trip. One even took to gathering a few small jellyfish, which she reserved for another empty tank kept in a darker corner of her lab. 

She’ll have to admit, even if she did risk it and chose to bunk in her lab, having the marine life around her essentially as odd forms of pets would make her feel more at home than anything. As the day went on, the more she also noticed little extra nooks and cabinets in which to potentially store her personal things, and the idea overwhelmed her as potentially the only obvious option. 

Jane wondered what Ann would think of the idea. 

~*~

“No, absolutely not.”

Jane sputtered, scoffing as she glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was outside her lab’s door. 

“Ann, come on.”

“No, Jane - “ She heard clanging and clattering on the other end of the phone before Ann spoke again. “You did not just call me durin’ the evenin’ rush to tell me your end-all solution is to bunk in your lab.” 

“But it’s obvious! I was putting away and organizing some equipment today and the amount of extra space I have is perfect. I can store my clothes, shoes, other small belongings, that cot you have - “

“Jane -” 

She paused again, hearing Ann yell to someone on the other side of what she assumed was the Fishbowl’s kitchen. 

A deep sigh echoed back, “You know it’s risky. You have to know that. What if they find out? You could end up on the streets anyway.” 

“Exactly, what do I have to lose?” 

A scoff, “Oh I don’t know, your job ?” 

Jane was silent for a second, worrying her bottom lip as Ann was quiet on the other end as well. More clanking sounds and muffled voices filled the empty space before another sigh broke the silence between them. 

“Look, Jane, I don’t know how late you’re stayin’ there tonight, but we can always meet up and talk more. I can even bring some food since I assume you haven’t eaten much of anythin’ all day.” 

Oh, yeah. Jane looked back behind her at the sandwich that Brigid had brought for her, along with her own lunch, before she started moving equipment. Completely consumed with what she was going to do with her apartment situation. 

“Yeah, I won’t stay too long, Ann. And whatever you want to bring, I promise I’ll eat it.” She tacked on the nervous laugh, knowing Ann to be rolling her eyes on the other end. 

“Alright, I gotta go, but I‘ll meet you tonight. Don’t get too stuck on this idea, alright?” 

The words sat on the tip of her tongue, and she hoped her friend actually believed her “Promise, Ann.” And yet, she wasn’t sure she believed herself. 

Ann hung up then, leaving Jane to listen to the muffled white fuzz through the line before hanging up too. Her mind immediately went back to the idea, thinking back on really what she had to lose by taking this risk. What if Brigid found out? The most she would do would be to probably drop a hint or flat out tell Fontaine, then what would happen? Would he fire her? The worst that could happen is she’s thrown out onto the streets, then she’d have to find a hotel or another apartment. But, at least bunking in her lab would give her time. 

And at this point, time was all she needed, and all that she was lacking with Friday being her cutoff. 

~*~

The first thing that hit her when she walked into Ann’s apartment was the smell. Jane had waited for Ann to get off work first before making her way back from the labs. Her friend insisted she make dinner for them to ensure Jane got at least one decent meal that day. Her mouth started watering almost immediately as well, placing her bag and coat off to the side before toeing to the kitchen. Ann was an artist when it came to food, always experimenting with different ingredients and flavors to create new dishes or enhance the several recipes she had in her pocket at all times. She was the reason for most of the dishes on the Fishbowl’s menu anyhow. And the spice she could pick out from the pot on the stove told her that Ann was making jambalaya, one of Jane’s favorites actually. Her friend always catered to her pallet and added ingredients she loved from back home, like crab or different seafood. And the closer she got, the more she could smell that distinct crab and she was convinced. 

“Geez, Ann - if you’re making crab jambalaya just to get me to eat.” 

The other woman didn’t even flinch at Jane’s sudden presence behind her. “I’m makin’ this because I know you haven’t eaten all day. I hope that you’ll be rollin’ out of here later.” 

“When it comes to crab jambalaya, you know I can only dream of leaving leftovers.” Jane scoffed.

It was also just her luck that Ann seemed to be almost finished with the dish, Jane found two bowls and moved to stir the rice in the pot next to Ann. Having made this dish with her friend many times before, it was more of a bonding experience than anything. Something neither woman minded at all, especially with the impending topic hanging over them on a fraying rope, a topic Ann just needed to talk about. 

Once they were settled at the two-person dining table shoved against the wall in the kitchen, Jane didn’t hesitate to start digging in; her bowl almost overflowing with crab, rice, veggies, and Cajun spices. She honestly didn’t realize how hungry she was, stopping every now and then just to take a breath and a sip of water. 

“So - “ Ann started from across the table, hands clasped with her chin resting on her knuckles, she hadn’t even touched her plate yet. “Your lab, huh?” 

Jane looked up at her, already feeling a bit of the broth dripping down her chin before she could catch it. 

“Look, I’m not sayin’ it’s a bad idea, Jane. Just…is it the best you’ve got?” 

She could only shrug as she reached for a napkin to wipe her mouth and chin. “I mean - I don’t see any other option. It’s Tuesday, Ann, and I need to be out of my apartment by Friday. With the time constraint and a hotel just too expensive for me at the moment, it’s a solid idea.” She took another bite, muttering the next point between a spoonful of rice and meat. “Plus, another apartment would take too long. I’d have to apply, get accepted, and so on.” 

“Or to just find another apartment in general,” Ann added. 

Jane lifted up her spoon in agreement. “See, it would just be temporary too. To give me time to actually look for something a little more permanent.” 

The look on Ann’s face twisted in thought as she grabbed her spoon and nibbled on the serving. It was silent between the two for several seconds, Jane twirling her spoon through the broth with Ann taking another few bites. 

“Jane, you gotta promise me you’ll be ok. I just worry about you bein’ down there in those labs by yourself, you know?” 

Ann wasn’t wrong. She’s thought about it a bit the rest of the day about the specifics and details of what she would do for meals and showers, and if she would actually be safe down there. While she was worried about being so close to the Big Daddy and Little Sister bonding facility, she had to not only promise Ann but herself as well. 

“I’ll be ok, promise. The door to my lab locks and needs the key to enter. No one else has that key besides me and Brigid…and Fontaine, I think.” 

The scoff around Ann’s spoonful was muffled. “You think? Girl, he’s the last person you want bargin’ in while you’re gettin’ ready for bed or somethin’. In your robes and nightgown?” 

The laugh that spilled from Jane’s lips was nervous, almost stuttering with her breath at just the thought. 

“I’ll have to check with Brigid, but either way, he’s apparently never down there as often.” 

Ann only shrugged as they continued eating. Although the Cajun spice was starting to sit like acid in her stomach at just the thought of Fontaine finding her in her lab while she was obviously not there to work. 

After a while, with both their bowls pretty much empty and stomachs full, Ann signed. 

“Alright, Jane, I support this decision. It still makes me nervous and worried for you somethin’ fierce. But, if it’s what you gotta do with the hand you’ve been dealt, as your friend, I only want to support and help you.” 

Jane could feel her heart swell at that, appreciative already of how concerned Ann was for her to begin with. “Thank you, Ann. Besides, this just means you’re able to finally have my loveseat couch that you’ve been eyeing up since I got it.” 

Ann rolled her eyes, feet knocking into Jane’s own from under the table. “Come on, there’s no way you’re gonna get away with it in your lab. Might as well, right?” 

She had no doubt any of her belongings would be safe in Ann’s care regardless. It was just a matter of if they could get all of her things moved out in time, and if she could sneak her personal belongings past the lab’s security cameras. Ann must have read her mind then. 

“So, how are you plannin’ on getting your things into your lab? They’ve got security cameras right?” 

Jane sunk into her seat a bit, starting to feel the food lull her into a comatose state. “They do. I’m thinking of leaving for the labs early, before Brigid or anyone would get there. Just bring a few things at a time, and if someone asks? I can tell them I’m planning on seeing you or someone right after work and need a bag of extra clothes for the night.” 

The huff was muted as Ann lifted the glass of water to her lips. “And what if someone sees you and says something? I highly doubt anyone’s gonna let you slip by if you look suspicious going into the labs.” 

She shrugged, watching the condensation from the glass gather around the bottom and puddle on the wood of the table. “I’ll only take a few things at a time, like clothes and shoes. Those I can fold easily into my bag.” Jane hummed. “When it comes to the cot, I might have to either get there early or come back late.” She watched Ann arch a brow while she crossed her arms. “Regardless, I’ll make it work. I can keep my larger furniture with you and maybe in the storage unit you were mentioning.” 

“Instead of just…staying with me, at that point.” 

Jane pursed her lips and squinted her eyes toward her friend. And yet, the two could only smile at each other, giggles bubbling from their chest. 

“You couldn’t stand me living with you, Ann. I’d be asking you to make crab jambalaya every night.” 

“Every night?” Ann rolled her eyes and moved her chair back to gather their empty bowls. “I guess you’re right. I’d get sick of this dish way before you.” 

Jane stood as well to help with the remaining dishes, elbowing Ann as her friend made a move to wack her in the head with one of the empty bowls. She stepped to the side with Ann laughing at her, both moving to the sink to wash the dishes and pack up the remaining jambalaya for Jane to take. 

They seemed to have put the conversation to rest for now, Jane bringing up any other topic to talk about and Ann followed. About how her shift at the Fishbowl went, and Ann went on about how everyone there missed Jane and how quickly and efficiently she tended to tables while she was there. About how things were going at the lab and the new equipment Jane recently got, all the new and fun toys she gets to work with now. And Ann would look at her with the most confused expression and yet would smile through it to show she still cared; even if she didn’t know a lick about why the ocean’s currents would affect the nutrition of a sea slug. And when the clock in the living room finally struck one in the morning, Jane reluctantly turned down another glass of wine from the bottle she and Ann had been sharing. If she didn’t get to bed now, she’d be stumbling into the labs hungover and exhausted. Neither of which she needed if she was going to start smuggling her personal belongings into her lab starting tomorrow. 

And just like Ann had promised, she couldn't help but smile to herself while carrying out her crab jambalaya leftovers, feeling rather pleasantly full from the meal. And yet, she had to take deep breaths walking to her apartment, already feeling the anticipation bubbling of what was to come. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

She had to laugh at herself, whether it was a nervous chuckle or a huff of disbelief, at how everything was actually working. 

After talking to Ann, Jane took the next few days to start moving her smaller personal belongings into her lab. She was able to condense a lot of her things into two different suitcases and another bag with things like pots, pans, mugs, and utensils. The cot she was borrowing from Ann was one of the last things she moved, and the suitcases that took up space in an extra closet in her lab. Everything else was tucked away into miscellaneous cabinets and drawers, places she wouldn’t expect Brigid to look if she needed to borrow some equipment. Jane tended to keep things well labeled in her lab anyway, if Brigid were to come across her shoes somehow, it would be because she was probably being nosey. 

However, during the whole duration of Jane moving her things, nobody said anything to her. And even if someone did notice something, Brigid or otherwise, no one approached her about it or reported it. Even if it was a little idealistic and too good to be true, she didn’t want to jeopardize anything, still being extremely careful with each trip to and from the labs and Futuristics. 

That left all the larger items. Her bed, any furniture, her loveseat couch, dining table and chairs, and even her TV and radio; all were either given to Ann to hold onto or stored in the storage center in the basement of the complex. James had even taken the time to help them move a lot of the larger items, using his perks of being the front desk man at the complex to basically give them 24-hour access to the storage center below. And while both her friends tried to make as much light of the situation as possible, watching her apartment become emptier each day was starting to overwhelm her. 

And by Friday, she’ll have nothing. 

But she honestly wasn’t sure if she should be feeling sorrowful or excited. Sad over the unfortunate fact that she’d essentially be homeless, or excited that this could possibly be the start of a new chapter. This period was one of transition as she’d find another place, a better place maybe in Mercury Suites or Olympus Heights. There was a strange hope she wanted to keep during all of this. Thinking if the job ended up working out for her, maybe all of this would as well. 

As soon as the loveseat hit the floor, Ann was quick to jump on it, burying herself into the plush cushions with a satisfied hum. At least Jane knew her couch, of all things, wasn’t going to sit in the dank and musty storage center in the basement. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna sleep here tonight? I know you’ve got the cot already down in your lab but I know this couch is comfortable enough too.” 

Jane picked at a loose thread on one of the back cushions. “It’s alright, it’s probably best I get used to sleeping down there now.” 

Ann eyed her warily. “Ok, but know that if you ever just need a more comfortable place to sleep, you’re always welcome here.”  

“Of course, Ann.” She gave her friend a reassuring smile. “Thank you.” 

“And if you need anything from the storage unit.” James chimed in as he moved to bring the matching armchair into Ann’s apartment. 

Jane smiled and nodded a thank you to him as he walked by, a pat on her shoulder and a ruffle of her hair enticed a whine, and when she moved to swat at him he was already on his way out the door with a chuckle. She couldn’t help the smile either, knowing her things were in good hands and it was at least something she didn’t have to worry too much about. 

And of course, Ann made sure she left that evening with a container of crab jambalaya made just for her. A sickly sweet feeling churned her stomach when instead of just going straight back to her apartment, she left to head down to the lobby. Knowing that nothing was left for her in that apartment anymore, it was already empty and tomorrow the leasing office will be in to do some final inspections before handing the keys over to the new tenant. Her face twisted at the thought, already giving her keys to James and calling it that Thursday evening. 

She just wanted to be done with it. 

And as she walked out of the complex for the final time as a tenant, she didn’t even bother giving the place a second glance. Only looking forward to the next however number of weeks in her lab. The unknown of it all scared her to death, but she was used to compromising, used to leaving behind what no longer benefited her anymore. She was just as quick to leave her own father when her trust in him was soiled, this apartment was nothing compared. 

She was ready to welcome that unknown with open arms. 

~*~

Now, she didn’t want to tell Ann ‘I told you so’, she was a better friend than that. But, Jane couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling of success, even after losing her apartment. 

It had been about three weeks since she started living in her lab, certainly more comfortable with the area after being in her new position for around a month now. She couldn’t say it was all perfect and ideal, Brigid definitely having her suspicion and even confronting Jane about it once. Jane shrugged it off though, giving the other scientist the comforting reassurance that her late nights were due to seeing friends after. And yet, even that was a little far-fetched for Jane as Brigid knew very well she could be as much a recluse as her. Get-togethers with friends, Brigid knew Jane to do every so often. But, every so often turning into every day was just a tad suspicious. And yet, the other scientists never questioned it too much, for the sake of them both. 

And so she went on. She’d call it quits right around an hour or so after Brigid would leave, just in case the other scientist needed to return for anything she might have forgotten. Continuing on with her evening and nightly routine as if nothing had changed. In the mornings, she found it easy to get up early and leave to find breakfast somewhere so it wouldn’t seem as if Jane was getting there every day before Brigid. That helped the suspicion dwindle to a minor curiosity, to the other scientist not asking her at all about what may have been happening with her personal life. They were coworkers, and Jane was glad Brigid kept it at just that. 

If Jane was being honest, she had started looking for apartments the first week of staying in her lab. Staying up till the early hours of the morning almost every day looking through catalogs and Rapture’s phone book for anything that wasn’t halfway across the city and didn’t cost an arm and a leg. She was hopeful for a while until she started to realize that her daily routine was pretty much the same and she could keep getting away with bunking in the space as she was. Then, those almost daily 3 am excursions turned into maybe a couple of times a week, to nothing - at least until Ann would ask and she’d tell the smallest of white lies. 

Besides, she was saving money and not owing a cent to anyone at the moment. If this was something she could keep for a tad longer, she would. And what Ann didn’t know certainly wouldn’t hurt her. 

She had a shower, granted it was for chemical exposure, but it worked all the same. She had burners she could use for pots, pans, and her tea kettle. She had two different ice boxes, one for marine life specimens and, while the other was an extra for smaller creature samples, she used it for any foods or produce she couldn’t store in a cabinet somewhere. Extra closets taking up space in far corners housed her clothes and shoes, as well as the cot she was borrowing, a couple of blankets, and a pillow. 

During the day, no one would even be able to tell she lived in the space after hours. Making sure she was thorough when it came to storing things and cleaning up in the mornings before heading out to breakfast. Some people would give her strange looks as she’d emerge from the labs as employees were just coming into the Futuristics. After a while, she’s learned the schedule and specific times when most would arrive for work that day. And as the weeks went on, she’d get lucky enough most mornings where she’d bump into no one. Slipping in and out with only the cameras watching her, and even those things were not attentive enough to really follow her. 

Why would she trade this for anything else? The situation was almost perfect. 

Almost. 

Jane had actually left the labs this time, thinking she could grab a quick dinner somewhere before heading back. She was hoping at that point Brigid would watch her leave as if she was returning home, and then by the time Jane came back - the other scientist would be done and gone for the day. And she was right, returning around seven in the evening to find the labs completely empty. Smiling to herself, Jane reached into her pocket for her lab’s key - unlocking the door, and entering with a sigh. She was home. 

Even with the muffled beeping of equipment in some adjacent labs, the bubbling of the tanks that held all the slug specimens, and the soft and eerie glow of a yellow sludge-like substance she has yet to ask Brigid about. All of it was incredibly familiar and welcoming, like an odd sort of decor in a rather eclectic home. But, she honestly wouldn’t trade any of it, even for an overwhelmingly fancy place in Mercury Suites. Granted some noises startled her in the dead of night, whether it be from just the sounds of the ocean outside or random clanks and whirs from the lab environment itself. Sleep was a bit of a stranger while she was bunking in the space, waking up several times during the night or falling asleep much later than was probably healthy. After some time though, it was all background noise, even adding to the atmosphere as she’d finish out the night with a cup of tea and a book; already settled into her cot along the far corner of her lab. 

And that would be that. 

Instead of jumping into bed right away this night, she treated herself with a nice long hot shower - anything to wind herself down and make sleep come easy before reading with her tea. And, with robe and nightgown on, she stood in front of one of her burners with a tea kettle on and water coming to a boil. It was a little unconventional but it worked and she couldn’t complain, especially with the radio in another corner playing music softly as it echoed in the space. Jane started swaying to the music then, reaching for the small box hidden in another cupboard that held all her tea. So many choices, but she went for the usual chamomile that she usually would have before bed. Only the sweet smell and taste of vanilla and lavender could ease her whirring mind lately, could stop time, and give her these small and insignificant moments. If anything, these moments were all it seemed she had left, and they were cherished all the same. 

The clock hanging along the wall where a few of her specimen tanks sat struck 9:30 pm as she started pouring and sifting her tea. The low chimes indicating the time lasted only a few seconds, but continued to ring in her mind. It wasn’t extremely late by any means, but lately, the days just seemed to drag. It could be the fact that she usually found herself falling asleep by two in the morning, otherwise, it was the constant buzzing of her mind that never ceased and made each day blur together. 

Thinking about the slug research, her current living situation, her job, anything and everything at this point jamming all other thoughts. The only thing she had that was consistent at this point was her tea, her cot, and her book to look forward to at the end of the day - no matter where she was. 

The incessant internal dialogue on a million different topics must have clouded her attention to anything else. Picking up her tea to move to her cot, she froze mid-step with eyes pinned to the door to her lab. It took everything to not drop her mug then. 

“Mr. Fontaine, sir!”

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

It was…something, surely, to see his employee standing there with a ceramic mug in hand steaming up from the center. And it wasn’t like he didn’t understand, he was known to spend late nights in his offices across the city himself. However, this started to make sense when the Kraut came to him with the suspicion that Jane was maybe spending some nights entirely in her lab. And at the sight of her standing there like a deer in headlights sporting nothing but what looked like a silk nightgown and an old tattered bathrobe, he couldn’t help but lift a brow as the smirk grew slowly. 

“Mr. Fontaine, sir!” 

And it seemed like she wasn’t expecting anyone, especially him, to find her in such a state. 

He huffed, “Look, I know you gotta love your job an’ all, but this - ” Fontaine slipped his hands into his slack’s pockets as he nodded towards her to make his point. 

She sputtered, grasping the mug with both hands as if she were just about to drop it. “I - I, uh - “ He watched her knuckles blanche as she gripped her mug, obviously having some trouble finding the right words to explain her situation. 

He raised a brow, head tiling a little with intrigue at what she could possibly say to explain herself. 

Jane hugged the mug to her chest before taking a deep breath. “They’re, um, renovating my apartment. It was a bit of late notice on my part, so I wasn’t able to make some last-minute accommodations…like a hotel or something.” 

Aw, she sounded so sure of herself too. 

Fontaine lifted his hands from his pockets to cross his arms over his chest, the smirk growing slowly as he watched her look anywhere but at him. 

“Renovatin’, huh?” He huffed, “I’d bet the Futuristics’ worth down in Fort Frolic Sinclair wouldn’t waste a cent on that shit-hole.” 

She froze with her gaze down on the floor between them and he could practically see the gears in her head whirring and steaming. It’s not like she could say anything, though, to convince him of anything else. He had a pretty good idea of what was going on the moment she asked him about her raise and when Tenenbaum had come to him. The pieces fit together pretty easily after that. 

“How long have you been homeless?” 

Might as well just come out and ask. 

Jane’s eyes snapped back up to his own, wide and innocent like a child caught doing something they shouldn’t have been. She looked as if she was debating with herself on whether she even heard him correctly or was thinking of another possible excuse to be down in her lab so late with tea and her pajamas. 

Instead, she smiled with a huff of disbelief. “Homeless? What - what would make you think that?” 

His brow arched again as he did a scan from her slippers to her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. And rather than try to argue with her further, he only muttered her name then, trying to let her know he had his suspicion and this was only the cherry on top. 

The sigh was long and defeated, her posture slouching as she looked down into the cooling tea. “Alright…I’ve been homeless for a few weeks now. I was evicted the Friday I received that pay raise I had asked you about.” 

Hearing it directly from her, at least gave some credence to Tenenbaum to have her own suspicions, but his brows knit when he heard her mention the eviction. 

“That letter I gave you didn’t help?” 

Jane shook her head, bringing the mug to her lips as if she was going to take a sip from it, but didn’t. 

“Apparently they needed it before my rent was due. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time. Had no way of knowing, really.” 

That was Ryan, he thought, had one good “law” going and just had to ruin it with the gritty details.  

He chuckled to himself more in disgust as he took a few steps forward to her left, arms still crossed with attention scanning the little setup she did have going on. Using a few burners for her tea and probably most meals. He assumed she also had some basic dining ware stored somewhere, along with her clothes. It appeared she was using this space to her utmost advantage, there was a shower here, a door that locked to all who didn’t have the key. What wasn’t settling well with him was the fact that she was evicted, and homeless, especially since Jane herself had been scratching at his memory since he first met her in person. At first, it was just her familiar last name, yet he chalked it up to coincidence. 

But, after visiting her and Tenenbaum down in the labs to get the low-down on the slug research recently, and their dinner where he even offered her the job, it started going far beyond her just being a familiar name. He knew a Jane on the surface before coming down to Rapture, this woman looked very similar, just - older. 10 years older? Hell, it was 10 years ago when he left the woman because he didn’t want to bring her down to the city and be responsible for her. He’d be damned if he had let anything happen to her if all of this ended up being a death sentence. 

And, it was as if all of a sudden, none of this was sitting well with him. 

He noticed then that she had been talking, stumbling over her words and going on about what had happened. Fontaine heard the name Sinclair at some point and his face twisted slightly in distaste again. The Sinclair Deluxe, basically down in the pit of Rapture. He’s actually heard very little about the area, surprised that someone like Jane even called that place home once. At the same time, while the growing soft spot he had for this woman was starting to worm its way back to the forefront of his mind, he still couldn’t let her stay here. It was bad for business, bad for the Futuristics, and bad for his image. 

And he was about to cross a line he promised himself he wouldn’t while on his way down here to the labs. 

“Pack your things.” 

She stopped mid-sentence, having already set her mug aside, thank god - he had watched her almost drop the thing a couple of times now. And he couldn’t tell which was more ridiculous to look at, her mouth hanging open or her eyes the size of dinner plates. 

“I-I’m sorry?” 

He stepped away from glancing into one cabinet next to him that was slightly ajar, seeing shoes all lined up and organized. 

“I said pack your things. Everythin’. You ain’t stayin’ here one more night.” 

All the color looked like it drained from her face then, her posture slouching a bit in an assumed defeat and she started looking around her at her things. 

Fontaine had turned then to start heading back to her lab’s entrance, talking along the way. “Leave the cot an’ larger trunks or whatever that you’ve got. I’ll get Reggie to take ‘em back.”  

Take them back? “Um, take them…where?” 

He turned then to see her standing there like a lost puppy, wringing her hands together and just overall appearing so helpless and small. 

“My place, of course.” 

He missed her look of utter shock then as he resumed his pace back to the door, his smile reassuring that such a look plastered on her face would be there regardless. Better to let her get to it, and to take a moment to scold himself at this plan formulating on the spot. It was a line he had carved into the ground with a serrated knife, and here he was, allowing someone to step over that line with his invitation in hand. For this one person though, he felt he had to make some sort of exception; more curious than anything to dig deeper and see if this woman was really who he thought of her to be. 

She was the only woman he had ever let cross that line before, and it had only left him with regret and anguish. 

~*~

Fontaine’s place? 

Well, it happened, the one thing Ann kept warning her about every time they got together since Jane moved into her lab. Fontaine, her boss, finally saw her in her pajamas and bathrobe in a place she obviously didn’t belong so late at night. 

However, she couldn’t stop thinking about his command to pack her things and a seemingly spontaneous solution of coming back with him to his complex. Maybe it was the fact that he was waiting for her, but she couldn’t stop the shake in her hands and quickness of her breath as she started packing her shoes, clothes, pots, pans, and other personal belongings. It had taken her a week or so to get everything situated in her lab, now, with a bit of sweat gathering on her brow, she had everything packed up in a half hour tops. 

She did as he said and left her cot and two larger suitcases at the entrance to her lab, her purse and another bag slung on her shoulders. She had changed as well, balling up her nightgown and trading it for a pair of slacks and a casual blouse; not worrying at all if the colors clashed. Jane just hoped with how late it was, no one would see her, would see them both traversing to one of the most powerful men’s complexes in Rapture. The last thing she needed was a reporter for the Tribune snapping them and commenting on her seemingly horrible taste in fashion. 

That appeared to be the least of her worries right now, anyway. 

Taking one last glance around her lab, just to make sure she wasn’t missing anything - it’s not like she’ll be back in on Monday - she hurried out the door only to not see Fontaine right away. Panicking, she paced through the empty halls of the labs, her flats clicking along the tiled flooring, everything eerily quiet this late. And it unsettled her to an uncomfortable degree. Once she saw Fontaine standing at the entrance to the labs from the tunnels, she sighed in relief he didn’t completely leave her there. 

“Did what I asked?” He snuffed the cigarette he’d been slowly puffing from in a nearby ash bin. 

Jane nodded, turning to show just her bag and purse and he hummed in approval. “Good, didn’t wanna lug that extra shit around. Reggie’s on his way down from the bathysphere, I’ll get him to pick everythin’ up for ya then. Should have it all shortly after we get there.” 

She could only continue to nod, not knowing really how else she’d respond. Just as long as she’d have a place to sleep and her extra clothes, she didn’t mind the logistics. He started moving again, and she almost tripped over to her own feet following him. Back through the tunnels leading up to the labs, she had to keep reminding herself she didn’t need to be so sneaky now with Fontaine. Her routine was ingrained enough that she’d be checking every corner to make sure no one else was staying late and would potentially see her. It got to the point where she really only depended on sound, all the floors in the Futuristics either tile or wood amplified each step, even if someone was barefoot. 

Trailing behind Fontaine though, she really only needed to worry about keeping her cool and not panic about leaving the safety of her lab. Of course, this was much easier said than done, and Fontaine must have noticed her tense posture with another smirk as he glanced back toward her. 

The echoing of their footsteps seemed all too loud as they passed through the main entrance to the Futuristics. At this point, she would keep going straight into the Atlantic Express station, almost always squeezing herself into a corner somewhere as the limited space would be overflowing. But, she had to sidestep a bit as muscle memory would force her towards the Express with Fontaine veering to the left. The bathysphere station, her legs almost locking as they entered the station, only one bathysphere sitting and waiting for them. 

Now, Jane was a Marine Biologist, studied marine animals and the ocean, and lived in an underwater city. But, something about the bathyspheres freaked her out. Maybe it was reading about the countless accidents with the transportation subs that unsettled her the most, but she stood at the walkway clutching the strap of her purse as she watched Fontaine continue on. Once he noticed she hadn’t been following, he turned with a quirk to his brow. 

“What?” 

The question shook her of her thoughts. “I - um…I’ve never ridden in a bathysphere.” 

Fontaine tilted his head a bit as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “What, you’ve got a fear or somethin’?” 

Jane shook her head, adjusting the bag slung along her shoulder. “No - no, just…I guess I’ve just never had the opportunity?” 

It was as if he could tell there was another underlying issue, but didn’t question it further. Instead, he stepped aside with a wave of his hand, gesturing her in before him with a curious quirk on his lip. 

“Gotta be a first time for everythin’. Ladies first.” 

She put on her best fake smile while chanting to herself internally to not wipe the smug look on his face with the back of her hand. Following his motion, she moved on wobbly legs across the ramp to the bathysphere already open and waiting for them. Fontaine followed closely behind just in case she were to change her mind at the last second. She opted not to, stepping gingerly into the sub and moving rather quickly to one of the cushioned benches on either side of the bathysphere. 

Fontaine took no time to follow her in and close the sub’s hatch. The bathysphere started up with a whirr as he stood at the control panel. And while she’s never been in a bathysphere, she was rather impressed with the straightforward-looking control system. A simple lever and a few buttons got the thing up and working, turning it on and entering the location before the sub shuttered from its station and dropped below the waterline. 

Jane held her breath for a second, instinct until the bathysphere dropped from the station entrance from under the water, and the view greeting her then almost stole that breath. 

Rapture as she’s never seen it. Since the Futuristics was already set apart a bit from the rest of the city, she was able to see everything from a distance. Each neon light pulsed and glowed like stars in the night sky, every light almost twinkled like Christmas lights among the natural ocean debris. She could also tell where Rapture ended and the ocean floor began, the surrounding waters jet black and almost appearing as if it was opening up around the city. A gaping, yawning darkness that either continued to drop off, fathoms into the sea, or plateaued into endless miles of sand and mud. Jane could only begin to imagine the creatures living at such depths, wondering how they survived, what resources did they live off of, and on and on. 

Jane sat with a palm pressed to the cool glass of the sub as she admired the view, completely distracted from her initial fear of being in the bathysphere in the first place. Completely missing the look of amusement behind her melting to one of the slightest adoration for her. And oh, if she only knew. 

It took them about a half hour or so to arrive at Mercury Suites. The ride was mostly silent along the way with Jane purposefully keeping her attention solely to the window and view. Partially it was that she honestly didn’t know what to say and didn’t take Fontaine to be the small talk type. The other half of it was she was just stunned, completely thrown for a loop in his decision, and didn’t want to say anything stupid to jeopardize it. 

While she’d still be perfectly fine staying in her lab and using it as a temporary home, she also didn’t want to be a burden to anyone, thinking she needed a fancy or intricate place to stay. And of all people, she absolutely didn’t want to put any sort of burden on Fontaine, her boss. Ann was already difficult enough to turn down, and she was as close a friend as Fontaine would ever be. 

The bathysphere shook a little bit as it entered the docking station within what she assumed to be Olympus Heights. Jane gripped the edge of the bench with nails digging into the cushion as she squeezed her eyes shut. The shaking and listing made her stomach churn and jump with each breath she took deep and slow until the sub came to a stop at the dock. The entire thing hadn’t shaken Fontaine a bit, she noticed, as he stood with one hand on the steering lever and the other still resting in his pocket. Of course, this thing was probably comparable to his own limousine; the entire venture just being one long joyride. 

Once they surfaced, however, she was confused at what she didn’t see at first. Of course, she thought they’d dock at another station and walk to his complex. This station, instead, was clean and quiet; as if it was his personal docking station already located somewhere in or near his complex. Fontaine turned the sub off then and opened the hatch with a low-pitched whoosh, already stepping out without a second glance back to her. Jane cursed under her breath and stumbled forward with her bags slung half-hazardously on her shoulder. After scuffing her shoes a bit as she attempted to catch up to him, she noticed then they were entering a main lobby with the gilded name “Mercury Suites” etched onto a sign above an arched walkway. 

The thumping of her heart became more prominent when she started looking around at the other apartments in the lobby. S. Cohen, B. Tenenbaum, J.S. Steinman, A. Culpepper, Y. Suchong - most of Rapture’s greats in one area with, of course, the center elevator labeled F. Fontaine. And she was walking straight towards it. 

They stopped at the entrance of the elevator as he punched in the code to the door, gesturing her in first again once the gates swung open. It was a bit of a tight squeeze and she shrugged her shoulders in on herself to leave more room for him. It was just a relief he didn’t seem to pay any mind to her as they rode the elevator up and up. And, what she was expecting at the top surely wasn’t a zen garden. A camera and turret followed them both as they walked to the side of the giant sand pit in the center of the room, precariously placed rocks sitting as their own sort of statue amongst the beige sand. 

Now, what greeted her as they entered through the front door and into the foyer was a bit more on-point with Fontaine. Another polar bear stood at the far window at the bottom of the stairs across from the door on its hind legs and claws in the air with a permanent roar. She didn’t understand the piece of decor for a second but assumed it to be a power and status symbol of sorts. That or he just liked it, seeing a similar statue in his office before as well. She’d continue to tell herself that for the time being, at least. 

Jane continued to follow him then up the stairs into the foyer, eyes everywhere as she took in the simple but lavish decor that included intricate and yet delicate-looking designs. Of course, it was the same type she saw all over Rapture, but something about the tycoon’s complex unsettled her to a degree. The foyer was lined almost wall to wall with bookshelves on one side with the right looking as if it lead to the kitchen and dining area. The colors here seemed rather muted as well, compared to how vibrant the golds and reds can be all over the city, highlighting everything Rapture had to offer. 

It also occurred to her, at that moment, realizing just how quiet it was. And she couldn’t decide if it was just how late it was, or how isolated the complex was at its height among the other complexes. It was nice, considering she had to deal with the beeping and clanking of lab equipment every night. However, the silence was still just as deafening, quite eerie as her attention floated back down from the decorated ceiling to Fontaine. 

He was standing a bit off to the side with his hands in his pockets, just watching her observe his space - a space he certainly didn’t let just anyone wander into every day. 

“The spare bedroom is occupied at the moment, but there’s a livin’ area upstairs next to it that’s quiet. You can set up shop there.” 

Huh, she wonders who was in the spare bedroom. Jane started following him again when he tilted his head up towards the room he was referencing. Every other floorboard creaked under them as they traversed up the stairs to the right. They passed through another door then after the spare bedroom, a larger room greeting her to what she assumed was the living area. While there were chairs and a couch with a few bookshelves, respectively; across the spacious room was a bar and pool table just behind it to the side. The look on her face must have told him she wasn’t entirely thrilled about this space. 

“It’s the best I can do at the moment. We’ll look for a more permanent place for you then after t’night.” 

As he was talking, Jane did another once-over of the space. It was quiet and had a wonderful view of the ocean and city beyond them from the floor-to-ceiling window behind the chairs. 

“This is fine, thank you.” Jane turned back to give him a forced smile, both turning their attention to the door as they heard commotion coming from downstairs. 

“Look’s like Reggie’s back with your things. I’ll have him bring it up.” Fontaine moved back towards the door. “Bathroom’s downstairs to the right of the stairs.” He motioned loose directions with his hand before the door shuttered open in front of him. “Try to get some sort of sleep. I’m across the hall if you need anythin’.” 

It was oddly sweet as he gave her the smallest of smiles and then turned to walk out the door. There was some talk between who she assumed was Reggie before another set of footsteps was heard just outside the door. A second later, a much larger man shuffled through with all of her things under both of his arms. Of course, it didn’t appear as if he was struggling at all as he set her thing down next to the chairs she stood beside. 

“Thank you,” She smiled, a little more genuine. “Reggie - is it?” 

“Yes, ma’am. An’ you’re welcome. Please, let me know if you need anythin’ else.” 

She nodded and watched him leave as well. Although, as the door closed, she couldn’t help the way her face twisted in thought. Reggie was incredibly familiar to her as she wracked her brain about where she’d seen the man before. However, if anything, she remembers seeing a much younger version of Reggie. The man’s hair was not speckled with as much gray as she’d seen him last. 

At the same time, as she thought, she couldn’t help but start unpacking her cot and suitcase that had her blanket and pillow. She already technically was ready for bed back at her lab and peering over at the clock hanging over the bar, the time that stared back made her groan. It was 11:30 already, and she was starting to feel it as well with eyes bearing 20 pounds each and body suddenly exhausted just from digging out her nightgown again. She didn’t do well sleeping in different locations, her mind just got used to the unfamiliar environment of her lab. But, somehow she knew tonight wasn’t going to be an issue with the shock of everything finally catching up. 

Jane settled into the cot after she positioned it parallel to the window behind the two armchairs. Already finding the light switch to the living area, the glow of the ocean still was enough to fill the foreign space. It was nice to have the view of the ocean she did, a source of comfort she could always count on. Curling into herself further under the single blanket she had, she tried to imagine herself back in her apartment on the surface. Using the white noise of the ocean and Fontaine’s complex to turn it into the sound of rain, thunder, or at least the memory of the storms she loved falling asleep to on the surface. 

She loved it most when he would spend the night, the extra warmth emitting from him as he’d pull her tightly into his arms. Nothing could touch them, not even the lightning and rain battering against her bedroom’s window with such force. They’d either fall asleep immediately or lay there whispering to each other over the rain. She’d be lucky enough to hear him say then he’d stay for breakfast the next morning, but when she’d hear the name ‘Reggie’ that usually meant he was needed somewhere for something, and the warmth she’d find in that moment to be precious and limited. 

The sudden chill she felt then was bitter and unforgiving, eyes squeezing shut as the insistent realization returned to mock her. He was gone, dead. And she had to just get over it already, or his ghost would continue to haunt her, plague her. 

Sleep, she had willed this time. Begging it to claim her and steel her of these thoughts. And sooner than later, sleep obliged, and drug her to its neverending depths. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

He waited along the stairs for Reggie to drop off Jane’s things, fingers finding that familiar square shape in his pocket to fidget with. He brought the lighter out to open and ignite it a few times. A habit he’s been trying to break since lighter fluid was a little scarce down here in Rapture; with the Incinerate Plasmid and all. But, once he caught sight of Reggie leaving the room, he waited until the door was closed before flipping the lighter shut with a sharp metallic tink. 

Reggie stood there for a second, arms crossing and he scoffed. 

“What?” Fontaine sneered, moving aside for Reggie to walk down the stairs in front of him without a word. “Reg, you gotta talk to me.” 

“What the hell are you doin’, Frank?” The other man turned then, his voice lowered but the accusing tone all the more potent. 

Fontaine shrugged, taking a few steps down to look Reggie in the eye. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” 

Reggie huffed, a nervous chuckle spilling from his lips as he brought a hand up to rub at his temple. 

“Frank, y-you’ve got some woman here - the only woman here in Rapture who might actually know who you are, really, and you’re just…fine with it?” His voice started to raise and Fontaine hushed him, leaning in a tad closer to minimize the space between them. 

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” He hissed. “An’ that’s what you’re gonna tell anyone else who asks. It’s fine. I’ll find a place for her tomorrow. A hotel, apartment, somethin’ - but she’s only here for the night, that’s it.” A quick pause, “Besides, I’m not even sure if it is her or not.” 

The other man shook his head, still mulling over the whole situation and how completely out of character this was of the cold-hearted tycoon. “What are you gonna do, seriously? You’ve already got Jack here. You keep playing the riskiest hands, you know that?” 

Fontaine only smiled, “The risk is what makes things fun, Reg. Gotta keep myself entertained somehow.” He moved to take the few steps back up to where he was on the staircase. “Besides, it’s like I told you -” he turned to speak over his shoulder. “No one’s gotta know what happens behind these doors.” 

The wink after only enticed Reggie to roll his eyes, giving up for the night at least. “Just - don’t make things any worse for yourself, alright? I can’t be around to bail you out of all these dumb-ass spontaneous decisions you make.” 

Poor Reggie, the man’s only been doing it for Frank since they’ve known each other for years on the surface, long before Rapture. Frank waved to him as the other man was already pacing his way through the foyer and out the front door. He should let Reggie take the day tomorrow, already had to wake the poor guy to come with him to the labs, ‘just in case’ as he had mentioned. 

He watched until the door closed behind the man then continued his way up to his bedroom, needing a hot shower, a whiskey, something after tonight. Or maybe both? With that, he was quick to put this very plan into action as he made a beeline to the bathroom. 

About twenty or so minutes later, Frank found himself in his usual sleep pants and plain white t-shirt with a whiskey in hand as he sat in front of the fireplace. Watching the flames lick and pop at and around the firewood, the visual itself felt as if it was putting him into a trance-like state as he sipped at his whiskey. 

Honestly, what the hell was he actually going to do? 

Keeping Jane just for the night wasn’t a problem, it was trying to find something for her after. He thought about the hotel idea but wasn’t sure if it was an end-all solution. Certain hotels in Rapture were strict when it came to bunking people for days or weeks on end. Finding another apartment for her would be the next best thing, but the issue was if there’d actually be apartments available anywhere. He doubted she wanted to go back to the Sinclair Deluxe if they treated her as shitty as it sounds, and he knew for sure nothing was available at the Mercury Suites. At least to his knowledge, Rapture was at a point where living situations were getting scarce; apartments taking months to snatch with a full list of people waiting for just one flat. 

There was his home for the poor, but again, the Futuristics’ image - having one of its future top scientists calling a slum house home really wasn’t ideal. People would think Fontaine didn’t give a shit about his precious scientists and overall plasmid production, not paying them enough to where they’re stuck being evicted and resorting to - would you know - his own poor house. 

No thanks, he didn’t need that on his conscious or in the Tribune. 

He took another long swig, the mellow spice to sit on his tongue and towards the back of his throat as he hummed. 

What if…he could use her here, at his complex? 

Frank didn’t realize, at the time, how much he was depending on Reggie to watch Jack on occasion, leaving him without his muscle from time to time. It didn’t bother him that much, really. But there’ve been some protesters recently who have been gathering around Apollo Square, most of them talking shit against him. He figured they were hired by Ryan to make a show, only to find out that some were and others were there just for spite. Without Reggie, he’s been limiting his time around the area a bit, not ideal, but he’s been dealing with it. 

What if he could get Jane to babysit the kid from time to time? Hell, he could even use her as his own personal housekeeper of sorts. Someone to do everyone’s laundry, feed the kid, and clean up around the place. It’d be nice, and he could even charge her a rent of sorts and get a buck or two out of this idea. 

And it honestly wasn’t a terrible idea. As far as the living situation went, he assumed she’d probably be ok with bunking in the living area with her cot. Hell, she was already doing it in her lab for the last few weeks. Now she’d have an actual complex, a bathroom, a kitchen; he didn’t see her as the type to be too picky, as long as it was something. 

He was the same way on the surface. 

The more he thought about it, the more the idea started to grow on him. Of course, he’d have to ask her and see if that was something she’d even be open to. He had a feeling that she might not argue too much and consider it, especially in her current situation. She really had no other option that didn’t involve her ending up in the poor house or on the streets. 

Eh, he’d just have to ask her in the morning as he stole a glance at the clock hanging next to him near the bathroom, the night already fast approaching midnight. And as he stood with his now empty glass to snuff the fire, there was a curious voice whispering to him at the back of his head. Maybe, if she agreed to stay, he could start to look into whether she was the same Jane he knew from the surface. If the one person he deliberately left on the surface had followed him, somehow, down to this underwater city - of all places. 

He wasn’t one to have any sort of faith or belief in anything, but it would certainly be serendipitous if their paths ended up crossing again like this. Frank just hoped this wouldn’t end up being Fontaine’s Achilles’ heel, or her own demise. 

He’d never be able to forgive himself then. 

~*~

The distant sound of a whale’s call woke her, eyes fluttering open to the aqua glow of the water just outside the window next to her. A few seastars were stuck to the glass and she smiled to herself at their presence. A long stretch overtook every limb as she sat up in the cot, reaching her hands up over her head and extending her legs from under the single blanket. Rubbing at her eyes then to clear the remaining sleep, once opening them, she paused with hands frozen in front of her. She looked to the right out the window, the city and ocean beyond greeting her warmly. She then looked left to the room she was apparently in, and her chest took on a thousand-pound weight once caught up with reality. 

That’s right, she was in Fontaine’s complex. 

The realization almost made her nauseous, hoping last night had all been a dream and she’d wake up in the familiar space of her lab. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, and she sat there in her cot debating on whether she even wanted to get up and face Fontaine. She couldn’t read him last night, couldn’t read on if he was upset with finding her bunking in her lab at all. And he let her stay the night to keep her from ruining the Futuristics’ name if anyone ended up seeing her. She’d admit she was doing pretty well for the few weeks she had been there, and it’s not like she didn’t understand. What she was doing was risky and could have put Fontaine in a hole of sorts if someone found out, especially if that person had been Ryan. 

All thoughts that surely weren’t making her feel any better about her current situation. Either way, she’d have to get up sooner or later, if anything it would be for a decent meal. She also remembered then she never got to drink her tea the previous night either…If anything, a cup of tea would be perfect at least for settling her nerves.

It was another few minutes before she decided to reluctantly lift herself from the cot, changing into a casual pair of lounge pants and shirt before gathering her things together in a small pile off to the side near the bookshelf. If Fontaine had plans of them going out and about, she’d surely change again but wanted to appear as unbothered by the situation as possible. Show that she wasn’t the least bit afraid of this man and the power he held over her, as her boss at least. At that, she also decided to brush her hair out a bit and pull what she could into a basic ponytail. Her hair was already short, only able to get half of it up with the rest settling along her neck with her natural waves. 

Casual and relaxed. As much as she made herself appear as so on the outside, she couldn’t help the rapid thumping of her heart and shortening of breath as she left the isolation of the living room to venture down the stairs. She ignored the fact that the door to the spare bedroom was also slightly ajar now next to the door to the living area, with no sign of life on the inside. 

The noise, other than the slight tapping of her slippers down the wooden stairs, was something she absolutely did not think she’d ever hear coming from the kitchen Once down in the foyer, she held onto the railing at the bottom of the stairs and just stood there for a second. 

Laughter, a child’s laugh. Such noise was unmistakable, the most genuine noise a child could make. And she was confused. A child in Fontaine’s complex? 

Jane paced closer to the dining room before the kitchen, taking to hiding behind the wall just on the other side and she peered around again. At the island in the kitchen sat a boy on one of the high-top chairs, he was kicking his feet as Fontaine stood on the opposite side with what looked like a syringe in hand, with the same goopy yellow substance she’d seen all over the labs. It took her a good solid second before she realized the boy was actually the same boy she saw in the labs. The boy Fontaine had taken home, that day she just vaguely remembered, but did indeed see - Jack, was it? The child clinging onto Fontaine’s hand with a stuffed bear in the other as he looked back to her briefly at the receptionist’s desk. She had smiled a small and quick smile to the boy as he returned the gesture with a tiny wave of the hand clinging to the bear. 

She completely forgot Fontaine still even had the child, thinking it was only going to be a temporary thing then. And yet, here he was, giggling and reaching his arm out for Fontaine to take and insert the syringe into as he fed the sickly yellow liquid into the boy’s upper arm. She could tell Fontaine was doing his best to keep the situation lighthearted, making a face or two to keep Jack giggling and distracted. And, while the whole scene was just odd for the tycoon, it was also really…sweet and refreshing to see, especially when she’s also been feeling on edge herself. 

As soon as the syringe was empty, she watched the tycoon replace the needle with a bandaid and gave the boy a pat on the shoulder before ushering him to wash up before breakfast. Jane moved to step back behind the wall as she noticed Jack had jumped from the chair and started heading her way. She held her breath for a second, and when the boy saw her once coming around the corner, he only gave her a smile and wave before continuing to the bathroom. 

Oh, ok? 

She wasn’t sure why, but part of her had thought Jack would stop and stare, yell over towards Fontaine about a strange woman being in the complex. Unless, Fontaine had mentioned her to Jack this morning while she was still in bed, a reasonable explanation for his actions - or lack thereof. 

Still, she had to chant to herself a few times that she was ok, that there was no reason to be nervous as Fontaine had invited her into his space. She was welcomed here, for the time being, and the grumble of her stomach forced her to take another breath before stepping from behind the wall as nonchalantly as possible. 

Of course, she tripped over her own goddamn slipper then, the slap of the shoe’s sole echoing as it hit the tile of the otherwise silent kitchen. Fontaine had been wiping down the counter where Jack had been sitting, noticing some of the yellow substance on the cloth, and he stopped to look up with a quirk on his brow. 

“Good mornin’ to you too. Hope you didn’t miss any of the stairs comin’ down either.” 

The provocative tone only made her grouse to herself under her breath, shoulders slumping as she let out the smallest groan. 

“No - no, I’m ok. And good morning.” She cursed internally at how small and insecure she sounded. Maybe veering the subject would help a bit. “I completely forgot you still had the boy with you.” 

Jane watched him halt his movements along the countertop before looking up to her with an odd look, skeptical, but intrigued. “You saw all that just now?” 

She nodded slowly. “I had to think back a bit, but recalled you leaving the labs with the boy when I had the receptionist job. I - I guess I had just forgotten you still had him.” 

Fontaine gave her another cautious look before tossing the cloth into the sink, turning to cross his arms and lean against the island. She was glad then she was as dressed down as she was, noticing her host to be wearing a plaid pair of sleep pants and a white t-shirt. It was certainly different from the pressed suites she was so used to seeing him in. 

“Jack,” He spoke then, “The kid’s name is Jack. Didn’t need ‘im anymore for a project we’d been workin’ on, figured I’d take ‘im. Bring ‘im back to live in an actual home instead of in those labs.” 

She couldn’t tell if he was hinting at something toward her, but she couldn’t disagree. Knowing first-hand for sure the experience of living in a lab…

“That’s kind of you.” Jane smiled and she swore she saw the quirk on his lip in response before he stood up to grab a cup of coffee behind him. 

“I guess the question is now, what do we do with you?” 

Jane watched him take a sip of his coffee as she shrugged, thinking he may have already started looking into some potential apartments or hotels for her to stay. Anything that she already hadn’t looked into before the first week she was in her lab - there couldn’t be much if anything. 

She felt comfortable enough then to take a seat on the high-top chair Jack had been sitting in. “I honestly don’t know. The first week after I was evicted I looked through Rapture’s phonebook at least a dozen times and didn’t find anything then.” She huffed and eyed his coffee mug intently, wishing she had her own. “Can’t imagine things would be better now.” 

He must have noticed her staring at his coffee, and he turned to pour her a cup from the pot still steaming. She really didn’t take to drinking black coffee often, usually pouring a bit of milk and sugar, but didn’t want to bother him with finding either. With a small ‘thank you’, she took the cup and braced herself for the earthy bitterness. It wasn’t bad coffee, but surely reminded her of her days in grad school after some late nights writing term papers. 

There was a moment of silence between them as she took a few sips from the mug, trying to get over the taste and convince her stomach it would be enough for now. 

Then, “I’ve got an offer for ya.” 

Her brows knit with lips to the mug’s rim. 

“Instead of tryin’ to find a place that doesn’t exist, I can offer you a place here.” 

Careful hands lowered the mug, “In - Mercury Suites?” 

“No, here in my complex.” 

She was glad she lowered the mug as he looked at her with a sort of seriousness like he was settling a business deal. Then, the smirk was sudden as he chuckled. “Of course, it’d be for a price. Charge you a rent of sorts, maybe even half of what Sinclair was chargin’ you.” 

Words could not find their way past her tongue as her mind raced a million miles an hour. “Mr. Fontaine, are you - are you sure?” She sputtered. “I know I must already be some sort of nuisance. I - I don’t want to cause any more problems.” 

He lifted his hand then to her, and she gladly shut her mouth with a click of her teeth. “I’m offerin’, ain’t I? Think of it as a - deal of sorts. I allow you to stay here, an’ in return, you pay me rent an’ help out a bit around the place. With Jack, laundry, meals, groceries, cleanin’ -” He paused to gauge her reaction, but she seemed rather conflicted than anything. 

This morning, she was ready to take the entire day looking for something, whether that was another apartment or a hotel. Ready to drag all her stuff elsewhere and try to fall asleep in a completely different location. And yet, here she was, tongue-tied again at another incredulous offer from this man, but this one was all the more unseemly. She even wondered why such an offer would even cross his mind. He didn’t seem like someone who would willingly invite strangers into his home, to stay in his space - especially since he was one of the most powerful men in Rapture. To him, she was pretty much a nobody.

But, here she was being offered a choice, and he was waiting patiently for an answer. 

“All I need is a yes or no, Doll.” 

A fair trade, she pays rent, she helps around the complex, and in turn, she has a place to stay. What did she really have to lose? At this point, she was homeless. 

Jane sat up in the chair, shoulders squaring as she leveled her gaze with his own. “Ok, I’ll take your offer. I’ll stay.” 

The smile was slow to crawl across his lips as he hid it behind the rim of his coffee mug, and she had a fleeting thought on whether this was a good idea or not. If she had maybe doomed herself in some way. A very fleeting thought. 

Fontaine set his mug on the countertop with a nod. “Alright, now we’re gettin’ somewhere.” 

At that, they both heard the patter of small feet entering the kitchen again, Jack coming back in as he rubbed his damp hands along his sleep pants chanting, “Papa Fontaine, Papa Fontaine -” The boy stopped dead in his tracks to look between the two, realizing the same woman he had seen in the hall was sitting in his seat. 

“Jack - “ Fontaine moved around the corner of the island as the boy moved closer to him to grab at Fontaine’s own sleep pants with a small fist. “This is Miss Jane, who I was tellin’ you ‘bout. She’ll be stayin’ here from now on, ok? She’ll be helpin’ ‘round the complex a bit, washin’ your clothes, lookin’ after you when I’m out.” 

The boy moved to wrap an arm around the man’s leg, trying to hide behind Fontaine as his big eyes shifted between the floor and her. Fontaine ruffled the boy’s hair, “Don’t be shy, Jack. Say hi.” 

“H-hello, Miss Jane,” Jack mumbled with his gaze to the floor, and she could only feel her heart clench in adoration. 

“Hi, Jack.” She figured maybe getting down to the boy’s level would make him more comfortable, and she lifted herself from the chair to kneel to his height. “We’ve seen each other before, remember? When you left the labs with Fontaine, I was sitting at the big front desk and we waved to each other.” She was down on her knees now, sitting on her feet with hands in her lab, trying to appear as welcoming and open as possible. 

Jane wasn’t around kids often, but she babysat a good bit in high school to earn an extra buck or two to help save for college. With the children she did see and spend a good amount of time with, their parents always complimented her on how good she was with children. She was relatively shy and introverted, but kids tended to bring something out within her, maybe her own childhood self she felt she lost too soon along with her mother. Kids were open and honest and tended to read her better than anyone could, even her closest friends. And knowing Jack to be a bit “special”, although not knowing the details as to why, she still wanted him to feel ok and safe around her. 

And it seems at the mention of them seeing each other at the lab, she saw him perk up almost right away with eyes widening. 

“Do you remember?” She asked again with a smile and gave a little wave, the same she reciprocated to him when he was leaving. 

“I-I do, I do remember you!” Jack smiled as well, a giggle following as he started to realize she was a familiar face. “Miss Jane was at the big desk where I used to live!” 

He let go of Fontaine’s pant leg and took a few steps towards her with the same wave he had also given her at the labs. His giggles were a pleasant sound now as Fontaine stood behind with arms crossed. 

“See, no reason to be afraid of her. Now, what’re you hungry for, Jack?” 

The boy gave a small pout in thought as he looked at the man over his shoulder. “I liked what you made for breakfast yesterday.” 

“Pancakes?”

“Yeah!” Jack exclaimed, “Can we have pancakes?” 

“I don’t know.” Fontaine teased, hands finding themselves in his pockets. “Does Miss Jane know how to make pancakes?” 

The boy looked back to her with wide eyes, probably realizing now he had two people to make his meals and allow him to have foods he’s never had before. Jane had lifted her attention to Fontaine with a humble smile. 

“I mean, I do, but I make them a little differently.” She looked back to the boy, “Have you ever had bananas in your pancakes, Jack?” 

He shook his head, “Miss Tenenbaum let me have bananas in the labs, but she said they were too sweet for me. I didn’t get to have them a lot.” 

Jane pouted along with the boy, “Well that just won't do. You’ve gotta try some banana pancakes then.” 

Jack bounced on his toes at the suggestion, reaching his small hands towards her own as a hint to get up so she could start making breakfast for them. Fontaine also started moving towards the opposite end of the kitchen to retrieve all the cookware she would need, motioning to where the fridge and pantry where all the ingredients she would need were as well. Although, as she started rummaging through both, she noticed how…bare everything was. This was concerning considering Fontaine had a child here he needed to be feeding, along with himself. The only other answer was that he ordered out a lot. Which, was something, but Jack deserved - they both deserved - home-cooked meals. 

She’d have to run to the Farmer’s Market tomorrow. 

And, as if all of a sudden, she was 15 again. 

Cooking, cleaning, gathering scraps around the kitchen for the war efforts, and grocery shopping for her and her father in their small two-bedroom New York apartment. When her mother passed, even as young as she was at 10, she still found herself taking on the role of cleaning up after herself and her father after meals, sweeping, dusting, and gathering laundry for him to do. Of course, as a housewife, that’s what she’d be expected to do. But, she put her education first, unlike many others she graduated high school with. Even some of her friends got married the summer after graduation with kids in the months following. And while she wasn’t averse to the idea, it just never happened for her. She didn’t date so much, too focused on her studies. She didn’t swoon over guys her age or fret about not being married into her early twenties. And even by then she had left her father to go back to her hometown in Maine. Already so immersed in her degree to care about anything else. 

But that didn’t mean that the responsibilities she gave herself when she was younger weren’t there anymore, still weren’t ingrained into her very consciousness. Here and now, however, she has a child to attend to and a fulfilling breakfast to make him. It didn’t matter whose complex she was in, didn’t matter she had just decided then and there to stay and live in Fontaine’s space. If she made the decision, she’d better adapt to it quickly and figure out her place here. And right now, it was making banana pancakes with Jack. 

And if Rapture had taught her anything over the years, it was that the quicker you found your place, the easier life was going to be and the more success you’d find in said place. 

Fontaine had stood off to the side refilling his coffee mug and sipping it as he watched. Jack had pulled up the high-top chair he had been sitting in to climb up and help as well. After around twenty minutes of careful egg cracking, flour getting everywhere, a couple of seconds of her cursing under her breath on how to get the stovetop working, and a few banana slices stolen as she was cutting them; Jack sat in his spot at the kitchen island humming contently around a mouthful of pancakes. He still had flour splotched on his shirt and a bit on his forehead, somehow, but if babysitting proved one thing it was that kids can be cleaned - no matter the mess. And it honestly didn’t matter how much of a mess he was making, so long as he was enjoying the pancakes and was happy. Even Jane hasn’t felt such a sense of fulfillment and endearment in a while. But watching him almost savor each bite just confirmed that, if anything, Jack was going to be a major help in her transition to living here now. 

She also found it almost impossible to watch him eat without taking part herself, even offering a plate to Fontaine, and a little surprised he took a couple as well. And to be honest, it was the best batch of banana pancakes she’d made in a while. 

“She’s good with kids an’ a surprisingly fine cook.” Fontaine had commented after finishing off his last forkful of the pancakes and she felt the pink dust her cheeks before she could hide it. 

“I cooked a lot for my father and me on the surface. I guess I managed to pick up a few decent recipes along the way.” 

His smile was subtle, but there, and he lifted himself from where he’d been leaning on his elbows on the island. “Well, you’re gonna need those recipes. I always make sure Jack eats after his meds. Keeps the kid from gettin’ nauseous.” He lifted his mug to gesture it to Jack as the kid was trying to scoop the excess syrup on the plate with his fork. 

“His meds?” 

Fontaine nodded, gathering up his plate and her own to set into the sink. “Yep. Jack gets the syringe you saw twice a day. One before breakfast an’ dinner. After a while, I’ll show you how to give it to ‘im.” 

She nodded, also reaching for Jack’s plate as he finally set his fork down, pleased with the syrup he did manage to finish off. 

“For now though - “ Fontaine set his coffee mug next to the sink. “I’ll get Jack cleaned up. Why don’t you go ahead an’ get all this wiped up an’ put away. I’ll show you around the complex after an’ what you’ll need ‘round here.” 

His glance towards the full sink and messy counter confirmed her first task and she nodded in understanding. 

“Of course. I’ll work on getting all this cleaned.” 

At that, Fontaine mentioned a bath to Jack and the boy nodded enthusiastically in agreement. He slid himself down from the high-top chair and started running out of the kitchen towards the stairs with Fontaine following behind with hands in his pockets. It must be a routine thing for them and she watched Jack leave with a smile. Glad the kid was even here in the first place, she’d probably feel all the more uncomfortable and intimidated by Fontaine otherwise. 

Wasting no time, she went to work wiping down the island’s countertop before placing the rest of the dirty dishes into the sink. However, such mundane tasks never bothered her, finding a sort of peace and quiet in the simple chores as they allowed her to wade through her thoughts with her hands busy. 

She just couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that she had agreed to stay here, in Fontaine’s complex, just a little bit ago. And here she was already cooking meals and cleaning up after everyone. And it’s not like she didn’t do this for herself already when she lived in the Deluxe, it was the fact that this was her boss’s complex. Every little action and comment felt like it could be used against her back at the Futuristics. If Fontaine was that sadistic. Regardless, she’d rather not find out. 

It didn’t take long for Jane to empty the sink and fill the drying rack next to her with what felt like a week’s worth of dishes. She’d definitely have her work cut out for her if she’d be making meals and cleaning up after the three of them now. And it wasn’t long either until she heard those same little feet pattering from one end of the staircase to the other as she assumed it was Jack. That sound would certainly be something to get used to. 

And as she was drying her hands on a dishtowel, Fontaine entered the kitchen, changed with a pair of slack and a white button-down with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

“Get everythin’ done?” 

She nodded and returned the dish towel to dry over the sink. 

“Good. Follow me, I’ll show you ‘round.” 

It’s not like the complex was super huge or anything, she’s seen most of it in the less than 24 hours she’s been here so far. But, he took the time to show her where the washer and dryer were, the linen closet that had a few cleaning supplies, his bathroom where she could take showers and give Jack baths if he wasn’t home to do it, and even an extra closet in the living area where she good keep some of her clothes and belongings from her suitcases. Luckily the only routine she, eventually, needed to worry about was Jack and his medication. Otherwise, it was whenever she’d think would be a good time to do laundry, clean, dust, and so on. Jack pretty much ate three meals a day, preferred sitting in his room or in the dining area reading, and took at least one to two to three-hour nap a day. Fontaine explained the medication he takes is so strong it pretty much knocks the poor kid out for a while. At that point, it would be best for Jane to clean then, or take the time to do anything she’d want to like reading and so on. 

“What is his medication, exactly?” She couldn’t help the question that had been buzzing around in her head since watching Fontaine give it to Jack in the morning. 

They had stopped back in the living area as he was showing her the bar and which drinks she was welcomed to whenever. He was pouring himself a glass of whiskey then, and she didn’t question it, even if it was only noon at this point. 

He only glanced at her between topping off his glass and stopping the bottle and she lifted her hands in defense. “It’s ok, you don’t have to tell me. I was just curious.” 

“No, no -” he placed the bottle back on the shelf before taking a sip. “You deserve to know. Just as long as you don’t go runnin’ your mouth to anyone outside of this complex.” 

She nodded, “Swear.” 

The smirk was quick. “There’s a shit ton of ADAM in the kid’s system. It’s pretty much the only thing that helped ‘im develop in the labs. The meds he takes is a mix Tenenbaum came up with, it keeps the kid from going insane from the ADAM, keeps it from takin’ over his system.” He took another sip. “Fortunate thing is, he’s not gonna depend on the stuff for the rest of his life. Just until he grows a bit an’ his body mass balances the ADAM.” Another smirk. “It also helps that the stuff will keep him from ever going insane from the ADAM, even when he’s older.” 

Teeth gnawed on the inside of her cheek in thought. “It all sounds very complicated.” 

The chuckle then almost startled her. “That’s just the tip of the iceberg, sweetheart. What imma ‘bout to tell you next, I’ll make sure you never utter another word again if I found out you blabbed to someone.” 

Her eyes widened. Should he even be telling her then? 

“Jack’s also the illegitimate kid of Ryan an’ that Jolene.” 

It must have looked comical, the way her mouth dropped open if his chuckle was anything to go by. 

“Might as well let you know, since you’ll be stayin’ here. It’s a reason why I don’t let Jack out to go wanderin’ around Rapture unless I’m with ‘im or Reggie. The reason why no one else knows he’s here except for the Kraut and Suchong.” 

Ah, “So, I presume that means I also should keep Jack a secret.” 

“See, you’re smart.” He lifted his glass to her. “It’s another reason why I offered you to stay. Can’t bring the kid with me everywhere I go. An’ some places I need the big guy with me, so no one’s here to watch Jack.” 

It made sense, all except for why he even had Jack in the first place. Why he needed an illegitimate son of Ryan? She wondered if even asking that question was pushing things too far. Maybe a question for another time. If anything, she wanted to keep the trust Fontaine was starting to build with her. 

“And you’re - ok with this, with me still being here?” She just wanted to make sure.

But, she was met with a shrug. “If you don’t screw anythin’ up, I don’t see an issue with it. Just stay out of my office as I said, do your part around here, an’ don’t give me a reason to regret my decision.” 

Easy enough, and yet she still wondered why. There had to be an underlying reason as to why he was so nonchalant in his initial decision. With someone as powerful and influential in Rapture as Fontaine was, she’d think he’d be more careful, taking the time to consider all of this. 

Almost like he knew something she didn't, and she just didn’t have the know-how to question it. 

~*~

The rest of the day had been fairly normal. Jane took to start cleaning and doing everyone’s laundry so she’d work on getting a system and routine set for everything. With Fontaine’s help, luckily, she was able to find everything she needed and allow him to lock himself in his office with a few business calls while Jack took his nap that the tycoon had mentioned. It didn’t take long for her to realize she’d be a valuable asset when it came to watching Jack, keeping the kid busy, and cleaning up around the place; especially after noticing just how busy Fontaine was even outside of any of his offices at his numerous companies. She didn’t understand it from a business perspective, but could certainly appreciate the juggling as she had to deal with it in grad school between classes and her job at the bar. 

And even as she made dinner for all of them in the evening, she could at least appreciate being able to cook again with others there to enjoy her meals. Especially with Jack, she loved how he wanted to help her any chance he could. And who was she to deny him? To have a little helper and keep him occupied at the same time was just killing two birds with one stone, something Fontaine also seemed pleased about. Definitely proved she could handle the kid. 

But, nothing made her feel more comfortable with the idea of living in the tycoon’s complex than when Jack had asked her to read him a story before going to bed. Finding out very quickly that the boy loved to read, she found herself leaning against the kid’s pillow with his head nestled in her lap. The book he had chosen was from one of the bookshelves in the foyer he had picked out the other day. And while he was already a few chapters into it on his own, he practically begged her to read the next couple to him. Before she was even finished with one, she found his breathing to settle as she had also been playing with his hair; and he was asleep much quicker than they both probably intended. Luckily he was a heavy sleeper as she had no issues moving him off her lap and tucked into bed. As soon as she exited his bedroom, leaving the door cracked, she saw Fontaine leaving his own bedroom already dressed down for the night. 

“Kid asleep?” 

She nodded, already starting to feel the day catch up with her and she was suddenly exhausted. The small smile he gave her though only confirmed that the sleep she’d hoped to get tonight was well-earned. 

“You did well today. Thought you’d walk out once gettin’ an idea of all the work you’d be doin’ here.” 

Jane shrugged, reaching to unroll the sleeves of her shirt. “It’s all nothing I haven’t done before. The cooking, cleaning, and so on. Jack’s a sweet kid, if anything, I’d want to stay for his sake.” 

Another smirk and a subtle nod before he muttered, “Night, Jane.” 

And before she could even respond, he was already on his way back down the stairs to the kitchen; leaving her there to wonder with sleep pleading with her to leave her curiosity be. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

The ache in her back woke her up this morning, plaguing her lower spine as she rolled over with a groan, still half asleep. The small alarm clock sitting on the floor next to her cot still hadn’t struck 7 am yet, and she debated going back to sleep for the last twenty or so minutes she had left. Instead, the deep sleep she had been in was a complete stranger now, her eyes staring unseeing toward the rest of the living area in front of her. 

Last night had been chilly also, she wasn’t sure if it was the fact that Fontaine preferred his space cooler, or that she only had one blanket with her. A far cry from her comforter and quilt layers back when she lived in her apartment. It could have just been her as she’s always found to get cold easily. And yet, there were no extra blankets on the couch in the living area and no blankets she could find while exploring the complex yesterday while doing some cleaning. At this rate, she’ll need to start wearing socks and a sweater to bed. 

Suppose there was no reason to complain, being she was waking up in her cot in the safety of an apartment rather than on the streets. At that, she rolled over onto her back and gave a quick but longing glance over to the ocean before deciding to get up before her alarm. She also decided that if she lived here now, there would be a better chance she could get away with going downstairs to get some breakfast still in her pajamas. If anything, she was planning on getting ready immediately after, wanting to see if she could visit the Farmer’s Market and finally stock up Fontaine’s fridge and pantry with good food for some hearty homecooked meals. 

She was also surprised to see she was the only one who appeared to be up if the eerie silence of the dining area and kitchen were anything to go by. Knowing this space a tad better, at least after yesterday with making Jack breakfast and cleaning the space; Jane felt a little more comfortable with gathering a few ingredients to make a quick breakfast. And as she went for the eggs, she also tried to scour the fridge and pantry for some cream and sugar for coffee. After a few moments, it was becoming apparent Fontaine had neither and she pouted to herself. Clearly, that won’t do. 

The silence was almost comforting as she started up the stove to make some scrambled eggs for herself. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she also powered on the coffee pot as well, figuring she could get past the bitter taste for the benefits of the caffeine.   

As she turned to grab the plate she had set on the island, with the eggs almost done, the figure standing on the other side of the counter nearly gave her a heart attack. Her internal reaction must have reflected her physical and she almost dropped the plate against the tabletop. 

“Mr. Fontai - oh my goodness.” A hand immediately went to her chest to calm the rapid thumping of her heart, but he only gave her a smile and a small chuckle in response. 

He rounded the island towards the coffee pot. “What, gettin’ a little too comfortable? You’ve only been here a day.” 

She shook her head and tried again with the plate, but found her hands to still be trembling a bit. “I couldn’t fall back asleep, figured I’d at least get up and find something to eat.” Jane turned to scoop up the eggs now done and sizzling in the pan on the stove. “I was actually thinking of going to the Farmer’s Market today if that’s ok? Find some ingredients to make some nice homecooked meals for Jack?”

There was a beat of silence between them as he moved to lift the brewed pot to pour her mug first, then one of his own. “Yeah, that’s fine. Need to fill this place anyway. I can give you some cash you can use while you’re there.” 

Jane looked at him with wide eyes, adjusting her grasp on the plate as some eggs almost tumbled off. “Oh no, you don’t have to worry about that. I can take care of getting everything.” 

The shrug was nonchalant as he took a sip of the coffee, and she didn’t understand how he could drink it bitter like that and not grimace. “You’re gonna be payin’ me rent, right? That’s good enough. Not like I don’t have the cash to spare anyway.” 

True. Next to Ryan, she was here talking to probably the second wealthiest man in Rapture - if not the wealthiest already. And just observing his space alone, she assumed necessities such as groceries barely made a dent in his wallet. 

They were silent again as Jane nibbled on the scrambled eggs, taking the occasional sip of coffee as she watched him grab some bread to toast and her brows knit. 

“Did you want me to make you something?” 

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He turned to give her a quick smirk. “I’m gonna be up in my office today. Feel free to use the shower.” 

She saw him walk away from the toaster after thumbing the lever down, picking up his coffee to probably go back upstairs. But, he turned to her before speaking again. “I might actually let you take Jack too. Gotta get the kid out for a bit, but I gotta talk to Reggie first. He’ll need to go with you.” 

Then he was gone, already traversing back up the stairs as she watched him go, mid-bite with the fork still resting in her mouth. Take Jack with her? Did he have that sort of trust in her already to take the boy out of the complex? She was skeptical, being she had only been here for a day but noticed that he had been a little… peculiar around her? It wasn’t anything she was receiving as negative, just - different than what she’d heard of the man. If anything, she didn’t want to push her luck too much. 

And when his toast was finished, she pulled the slices from the toaster to place on a clean plate. Forking some of the remaining scrambled eggs she had made onto the plate as well with some salt, pepper, and butter on the toast. Smiling and giving a small nod to the plate, she placed all the dirty dishes in the sink and made her way back upstairs as well to gather her things for a shower. 

~*~

He had been meaning to call Reggie anyway, letting the man take the day yesterday. He figured he’d at least let him know what was going on before he sees Jane still taking up residence here. Taking his place at the large oak desk in his office, he dialed the number and sat with the coffee mug in hand until the line picked up. 

“Reggie -” 

“Yeah? What’s goin’ on?” 

“I need you to come to the complex today for an escort.” 

A huff muffled on the other line. “Where you goin’?” 

“Me?” He chuckled. “Nowhere. Jane’s goin’ to the Market with Jack.” 

The silence was deafening and he could practically see the disapointed narrow of the other man’s brow. 

“Frank - you didn’t.” 

“Did what?” The smile was mean, and he knew it, but he also knew Reggie would respond like this. 

Another breathy laugh that was far from humorous. “I - I don’t even know what to say. Did you even try lookin’ for a place for her?” 

Another shrug, even if he knew Reggie couldn’t see his response. “Didn’t need to. I’m not gonna waste the time lookin’ for a place that doesn’t exist, Reg. Rapture’s gone to shit when it comes to its livin’ availability.” He took a sip of his coffee. “But, thought I’d keep her here as my personal housekeeper an’ babysitter. She already took to cleanin’ up the place yesterday an’ made Jack his meals.” 

“And?” Reggie scoffed. “Just like that, you trust her? You just said on Friday you weren’t sure if it was even Jane from the surface.” 

Frank let the question simmer between them, staring down at an almost empty mug as he thought. 

“Reg, if it is her, she won’t betray my trust - regardless if she knew it was me or not. She’s just like that.” He set the mug down. “This trip she wants to take to the Market is just a test. She comes back with what she needed an’ Jack’s identity intact? I have no reason to leave her on the streets.” 

“That’s a bullshit test, you know that?” He could tell Reggie was starting to get a little pissed off. “You’re putting Fontaine on the line, you’re putting Jack on the line. For what?”

A pause, “Curiosity.” 

He could tell it wasn’t quite the answer Reggie was expecting, but it was enough to silence him. 

“She’ll probably want to leave here soon, just heard her close the door to the bathroom. Gotta get Jack up an’ ready. Say 9:30?”

The muttering on the other line was muffled enough, knowing the man to be cursing at him to the high heavens under his breath. 

“Reg?” 

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll be there at 9.” 

With that, he heard the line click and Reggie hang up without another word. Whether he’d be pissed off or not, Reggie’s also seen Jane on the surface. During those rare moments, Frank had the other man travel with him, he remembers bringing him to the bar on occasion so he could also get a feel for this woman Frank felt like he was addicted to then. He had to have a gut feeling as well, had to have seen that woman Friday night and thought the same as Frank in that she was just familiar enough. 

He sat at his desk for a few moments, fingers running the rim of his now empty coffee mug as he stared at it with unseeing eyes. Maybe this was wrong. Maybe this was his worst idea yet. But his curiosity alone was too much to snuff out, thinking about what was the worst that could happen? Without giving it another thought, he stood up suddenly to head back down to the kitchen, stopping at Jack’s room to wake the kid up and start getting him ready. When he entered the kitchen to refill his coffee, he did a double-take at the island counter to see a plate with the toast he had forgotten about. 

His toast and a side of eggs accompanied it with what looked like a bit of salt and pepper. He looked back up towards where his bedroom was, where Jane was currently using his shower and another rare smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

~*~

Opting for a new pair of white pants and a matching nautical short-sleeve blouse, she always loved treating visits to the Farmer’s Market as a social outing. Getting to know a lot of the shop owners, and occasionally seeing old coworkers and friends from the Fishbowl, she always tried to look her best among the crowds. Pleased with her outfit and makeup, she even took to tying a red bandana to keep her bangs back, and it just looked cute with the outfit. She grabbed for her purse then as well and made her way down to the foyer, finding Jack sitting at the end of the stairs with Fontaine tying his shoes and mumbling to the kid. 

“Gotta teach you how to do this sometime.” 

She smiled down at them, catching Reggie from the corner of her eye as he stood to the side until they were ready. He gave her an acknowledging nod before Fontaine stood up then to hand her something. It was a white envelope and she took it hesitantly. 

“There’s thirty bucks in there. Should be able to getcha whatever you need.” 

Her eyes boggled. “How - thirty dollars? Mr. Fontaine, you don’t have to give me this much. I’m usually able to get a week or two worth of groceries for at least ten or fifteen dollars.” 

The side-eye he gave her then while helping Jack put on his little light jacket was almost mocking. 

“Well you’re also not buyin’ a week's worth of groceries for one person, now are you?” 

She opened her mouth to protest but realized that yeah, he was right. Ten dollars was perfect for just her, now it would be her, Jack, and Fontaine to make meals for. And seeing how much Jack ate for dinner yesterday, Fontaine mentioned to her that the boy had an appetite to compete with, she’d need the few extra bucks. 

“Plus - “ He ruffled Jack’s hair a bit before looking back up to her. “You can get yourself some things you haven’t been able to before.” The wink to accompany his comment brought a flush to her cheeks, and she ducked her head before he would notice. Instead, she took to opening the envelope to account for the several Rapture dollars there, sifting through them and making sure it did indeed add up to thirty.

And still, anything that she’d get “for herself” would still end up being something for everyone; her, Jack, and Fontaine. It wasn’t just her anymore - which was something she, interestingly enough, didn’t find herself to object. 

Once Jack was ready, he skipped forward a bit to stand with Jane, reaching up to take her hand and she felt a warmth explode from her chest. After packing away the envelope as well she turned back to another piece of paper being held out to her from Fontaine. 

“The code to the door. Figured you could have this till you remember it well ‘nough.” 

Unfolding it, she was greeted with the written number 1342. And while she didn’t think about it too much before slipping it into her pocket, something about the combination was curious but it could also just be a coincidence. Instead, she gave him a small smile and turned to meet Reggie as they walked out the door with Jack waving for a solid ten seconds back at Fontaine. 

Reggie led them out of the complex and down to the bathysphere docking station near Mercury Suites. The man didn’t say much, but Jack did enough to fill the silence as he went on about never seeing the Farmer’s Market before. And, of course, hinting now and then that he’d love to find some bananas while they were there. She’d have to remember to get a bunch or two, surely Jack would love to try some banana bread along with the pancakes. 

The boy must have also never experienced frequent bathysphere rides as well, his face pressed against the glass as he watched the ocean pass on their way to Arcadia. The sight itself almost made her melt, completely forgetting her fear of the transportation device as she looked on in adoration of his curiosity and excitement. 

Turning then to Reggie, she cleared her throat before asking. “So, Reggie, how long have you known Fontaine?” 

The man looked up from a small notebook he had been jotting things in, leveling his gaze with her own before closing the book slowly.

“Long before Rapture. We met about a decade or two before all this. I’ve been his muscle for many of those years as well.” 

Interesting. “You two must be good friends then.” 

She saw him crack a small smile, realizing then that the man actually did have a nice smile. “You could say that. We’ve been through thick an’ thin. The good, the bad, an’ certainly the ugly.” He sighed as if remembering those years. “But we’ve had each other’s backs. I’m about the only one he truly trusts.” 

“I must have been an odd wrench thrown into that trust then.” Jane gave him an apologetic look, recognizing how standoff-ish Reggie had been when he saw her for the first time - and then of course still seeing her there at the complex a day later. 

Instead of agreeing right away, which she assumed the man to be honest enough to admit to agreeing, he turned to look out the window and at Jack who still had his face up against the glass. 

“I wouldn’t say that. It was unexpected.” He turned back to her, the genuine look reflecting back easing her mind. “Fontaine’s not the type to throw his trust in anyone around, to put his trust in any random person. It was just odd to me that you’re this employee of his, an’ he makes this spontaneous decision to keep you in his place.” 

It did seem rather spontaneous, taking only a night to decide to let her stay. And she wonders if it was a result of knowing they really wouldn’t have found a place for her otherwise, or if there were any other underlying attributes to the decision. To her, it made sense to allow her to stay if she’d be there as a housekeeper and someone to watch Jack. That much seemed obvious and an opportunity Fontaine really couldn’t pass up. 

Reggie must have been thinking the same and he sighed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, havin’ you around to help with Jack is a big weight off our shoulders. So, I understand his intentions.” 

Jane could only shrug in agreement. “I suppose. I just - I don’t want to interfere with anything. Don’t want to risk Fontaine’s reputation or even your own.” 

The chuckle from him was abrupt, even causing Jack to startle and turn for a second toward the two of them. 

“Believe me, you’re not gonna ruin anyone’s reputation. Just - keep your head low an’ conversations light when you talk about your livin’ situation. An’ don’t reveal Jack to anyone. Do that an’ it’ll keep givin’ Fontaine reasons to keep a sort of trust in you.” 

Her spine straightened at that, sitting taller on the cushioned seat as she gave a nod toward Reggie. 

“Easy enough, right?” Her chuckle to follow was a tad more nervous than she wanted to let on, but Reggie gave a knowing glance and a smirk to signal she had every right to be. But, the rules were simple. And as long as she stuck to them, she’d have absolutely nothing to worry about. 

They kept the conversation going, starting to find a sort of comfort between the two of them as Reggie asked about her past on the surface. Her own stories were definitely enough to pass the time, and before they knew it, they were docking at the station in Arcadia.

As the bathysphere surfaced, Jack started bouncing on his toes, looking back to Jane and Reggie with pure excitement etched on his face. His eagerness was infectious though, and she found herself standing up with Jack until the sphere was docked; the hatch swinging open, and Jack looking up at her with the biggest smile. 

“Hold my hand now, Jack. My hand or Reggie’s, you have to make sure you’re with either of us the entire time we’re here. Ok?” 

The boy nodded with double the enthusiasm, taking her hand as she led them from the sphere. Even in just the docking station, Jack couldn’t keep his eyes off of the extravagant decor and bustling of people coming and going. Wasting no time, Jane motioned him forward with Reggie trailing a couple of feet behind them. She could probably let Jack stare all day at just the docking station alone, but they still needed to traverse through the rest of Arcaida before even making it to the Famer’s Market. And she assumed the boy’d never seen a tree before. He was surely in for a treat.

Moving with the flow of the crowds, Jane found herself glancing back every minute or so just to make sure Reggie was still there. However, with just how tall and broad the man was, it was almost impossible to miss the guy. She just had to trust he’d keep up with them as Jack kept pulling at her hand as he went back and forward between her and the trees towering above them. His little pointer finger remained to the ceiling as he chanted “Miss Jane, Miss Jane, look!” with his smile growing larger once he saw some trees with flowers and others with fruits. 

The true wonder and innocence were contagious, and she practically felt the giddiness as she’d stop now and then to kneel next to him to point out a tree with apples - finding it was another favorite snack of his. And as they kept moving through Arcadia’s rolling hills, the sweet smell of honeysuckle catching her nose now and then, she’d point out signs leading to different areas, like the Tea Garden and Dr. Langford’s labs; the very woman who made these trees down in an underwater city possible. And Jack would only listen, would absorb, and repeat some of the things she’d tell him - as if he was committing it all to memory, really not knowing when the next time he’d be able to venture out here again. 

And sooner than later, the flow of the crowd brought them to the entrance of the Farmer’s Market and Jane stopped for a second to fish for the grocery list from her purse. Reggie had strolled up a few seconds later, taking Jack’s hand as she pulled the crumpled paper from the bottom of her purse and she scowled to herself at its wrinkled state. 

“Can I help find stuff today?” Jack chirped and she looked at him with a growing smile. 

“Of course.” Jane knelt down to him. “But you have to promise me you’ll stick with me or Reggie, ok?” 

He beamed, a hand reaching up and out to her with his pinky extended toward her. “I promise!” 

Jane chuckled, intertwining her pinky with his own to seal the promise. “You know, you can’t break a pinky promise right?” 

The nod was quick. “Yep! I read about it in one of my books!” 

“Good!” She stood then with his hand now in her own, and she led them through the entrance to the Farmer’s Market with Jack’s eyes boggling; sweeping around the area trying to take all the sights in. 

The first thing to hit them was just the potent smell of baked goods, different fruits, and - of course - the mouth-watering scent of Worley Winery. It wasn’t the best wine, tasting more of a spiked watered-down grape juice. But it was something she and Ann would spend the money on for a last-minute dinner or after a rough shift at the diner. It didn’t need to taste good, just get the job done with numbing all the senses and stressors of the day. She might have to pick up a bottle before they leave…

After taking a second to look over her list, she motioned Reggie over to ask him to pick up a few things closer to the opposite end of the Market. Figuring she’d let Jack stay with her to give him a chance to help and pick out some fruits or veggies that looked appetizing. And with that, they were off. Reggie already making his way to where most of the meat stands were, and Jane let Jack lead them off to the produce. 

The Farmer’s Market was always a bustling place, reminding her very much of the marketplace in New York where she’d spend Sunday mornings with her father. Wondrous smells came from almost every little shop lining each corner of the market with familiar faces popping up here and there. The muffled buzz of the crowds milling around at certain shops or sauntering down the stone pathways brought a sense of liveliness she only hoped Jack was experiencing as well. Happy they had also left early, the crowds were definitely lighter, not smothering them as she walked with Jack in front of her and directed him from one shop to another. Letting him carry a small bag with a few apples, she helped him to read off each item on her list, and he’d grip her hand, allowing all sights and smells to lead them to the next shop. 

Now, with arms almost overflowing with bags of fresh produce and baked goods, she still just needed one last thing. Having this nagging feeling that Fontaine liked pasta, there was a stand that Jane liked to frequent that was run by an Italian family who made their own pasta noodles. It’s been some time since she’s made her tuna casserole too, a meal she could make plenty of and still have leftovers for Jack’s lunches. And it was just her luck that she saw Reggie approaching on her right, she tried waving with full hands to get his attention. Once he saw her, he only shook his head with a small smile at her struggling and reached out to take some of her bags as he got closer. 

“I just need one more thing from this shop, then we’ll be good to go.” 

Reggie nodded in understanding and stepped off to the side with Jack as she approached the shop’s counter. 

The family was always pleasant to talk to, this time only the husband was manning the stand with his son in the back making the pasta and bagging it. Getting her usual and an extra bag of noodles for the casserole, she paid the man, and just as she was saying goodbye, however, a familiar voice spoke up next to her as they also asked for a bag of penne. 

Turning, she had to steel her excitement once she saw who it was. 

“Ann?” 

The woman turned and took a second before her eyes boggled and she chuckled. “Jane! Oh my goodness!” 

Her friend took no time to throw her arms around her in a hug, Jane only returned the embrace with a giggle of her own. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages!” Ann pulled away and shook her shoulders slightly.

Jane chuckled as the poor man behind the counter held out Ann’s bag of penne with the woman still in disbelief at seeing her friend. With a nod over to him, Ann turned with a slew of apologies spilling from her glossed lips, taking the bag and paying before pulling Jane to the side. 

“So, how are things?” Ann slipped the change she was given into her purse as Jane gripped the paper bag between her fingers. 

“Um…well - “ She started, shrugging a bit and Ann tensed up. 

Her voice dipped immediately as well. “What? What’s wrong? What’s goin’ on?” 

“Nothing, nothing! I promise! Nothing I can’t handle, at least.” 

Ann crossed her arms, her hip jutting out as her bag crinkled and her dotted navy dress swayed with her motion. “What?” Jane still sometimes got whiplash at how her friend could go from lighthearted to serious in a second. “Jane, what happened?” 

She felt as if she was a child being scolded then, and a small smile lifted the corner of her lips at how in the hell she was going to explain her situation.  

“Well…um - I’m not living in my lab anymore.” Might as well dive headfirst. 

Ann’s brow raised signifying she didn’t believe her for a second, that or this news wasn’t exactly good news. “And? Where are you livin’ now? Don’t tell me on the streets somewhere or so help me, Jane - “

“No no!” She interjected. “Not on the streets, I promise. Actually - “ She took a deep breath, leaning in a bit with Reggie standing just feet behind her. “I’m…I’m living with Fontaine.” 

The shift in Ann’s facade was almost comical with her arms dropping and face elongating with shock. “What?!” Jane immediately jutted her hands out to try and calm her. “No! Oh my god, no you’re not!” 

“Ann, shush, please.” She took her friend’s arm to turn her away slightly from Reggie behind them. “It’s fine, I promise it’s fine.” 

“No, it’s not!” Ann exclaimed again, her voice dropping to barely a whisper. “Jane, this is the last thing we were talkin’ about happenin’. How - what the hell happened?” 

“He found me in my lab on Friday.” Jane dropped her voice as well, glancing back to find Reggie was actually not paying attention to them and rather trying to reorganize the bags of groceries to make them easier to carry back. “I was getting ready for bed, it was late, I had no idea he’d even come down there with how late it was.” She took a breath. “I was making my tea and didn’t hear him walk in, but he saw me and pretty much just decided for me to go back with him.” 

“Right then and there?!” 

“No no, Ann -” Jane leaned in closer with Ann doing the same, eyes wide in curiosity. “He invited me to just stay the night, then he’d help me find another place the next morning. But, yesterday, I guess he had just decided it would be no use trying to find a hotel or an apartment and he…invited me to stay .” 

“Just like that?” She could tell Ann was starting to question just how true this was. 

Jane shrugged again. “I guess. He said I could stay if I paid a rent of sorts and work as his personal housekeeper. Which…explains why I’m here getting so many groceries.” She gestured back to Reggie and the bags he started picking up again, handing the small bag of apples back to Jack with a couple of bananas sticking out the top. 

Ann cocked her hip again with a hand to rest there. “And that explains Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome over there, huh?” 

The nod was sheepish, “Yeah…that’s Reggie. He’s sort of Fontaine’s right-hand man and bodyguard of sorts.” 

“Uh-huh.” Ann raised her brow, “And the kid?” 

Shit. Jane folded the top of the pasta bag a few times. “He is - the son of a coworker. I’m just babysitting him for the day while his parents take some time for themselves, you know?” She tilted her head with a light smirk and half expected Ann to call her on her bullshit. 

Instead, her friend huffed a breath and shook her head. “Jane…you’re somethin’ else, you know that? One minute you’re living in your apartment, then your lab, now you’re hooked up with Fontaine playin’ housewife and babysitter.” 

But she still loved her. “I’m not hooked up with Fontaine, trust me.” Jane gave a chuckle and Ann couldn’t suppress her own smile. “I am only paying him half of what I was paying Sinclaire. I mean - twenty-five bucks a month? Ann, it’s pretty obvious. Just have to fold some extra laundry and another garlic clove in the meals I make.” 

Ann sighed, almost sounding exasperated. “You’re not wrong about your rent, that’s honestly pretty good. Just…please, be careful. I mean, it’s Fontaine we’re talkin’ about here. I don’t know the man, but I know he’s probably the most feared person in Rapture. And for you to just be livin’ with him now - “ 

“I know, Ann, I know.” Jane tried to comfort her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “But, I promise, the first sign I get something is wrong, I’m leaving.” 

“And goin’ where?” 

A low jab, but she knew her friend’s intention behind the question. 

“I guess that’s something we’ll just have to find out, huh?” She couldn’t help the smirk to quirk her lip and Ann’s eyes narrowed, not impressed. “But, I honestly don’t plan on finding out, trust me. I can handle whatever happens.” 

Ann gave her a soft smile, “I know you can. It’s Fontaine I’m worried about.” She reached a hand to rub Jane’s arm. “Please promise me you’ll come to me if you need anythin'. And I mean anythin'. I’m happy you’re livin’ in an actual place and not your lab now, but the risk is still there - “ She paused and leaned in again, “especially with your whole thing, ya know, about the guy on the surface and Fontaine remindin’ you of him?”

Oh - right. 

“I mean, yes that could potentially be an issue but you also mentioned that Dr. Lamb. Maybe it’s time I finally pay her a visit.” 

Her friend threw her hand up, “Finally! I’ve reminded you how many times and it takes you livin’ with the potential problem to finally face it.” 

Oh, Ann. Jane ducked her head a bit and gave another abashed smile. “I know, I know.” She reached to stop the waving of Ann’s hand before intertwining their fingers, giving her palm a squeeze as well. “You always know what’s best for me, Ann. I’d still be working as a receptionist at the Medical Pavilion if it wasn’t for you.”

Ann beamed at that, squeezing her hand back before pulling her in for another hug. “Of course, you don’t have to tell me all that twice.” 

They pulled away and Jane looked back to see Reggie and Jack talking, probably more than ready to head back to the complex and she turned to Ann. “Well, I have to get going. We should have brunch sometime soon, yeah?” 

“Oh, absolutely.” Ann giggled and pulled her friend back in for one more hug. “If anythin’, to make sure you’re doin’ alright and not on the streets.” 

Separating again, they said their final goodbyes as Jane turned to walk back to Jack and Reggie; both of them watching her and she felt a pep in her step as she got closer to them. 

The smile was barely there as Reggie started handing her a spare bag - definitely lighter than before. “You ready?” 

She nodded, taking Jack’s hand who already started reaching for her own as he hefted his smaller bag of fruit. The trek back to the bathysphere station was a little hindered, Jack needing to stop every now and then to adjust his grip on his small bag that appeared to be getting heavier the further they went. Eventually, Reggie ended up taking the bag while still allowing Jack to hold an apple. Jane was even surprised at how long they went before he decided to take that first bite of the apple. The muffled crunch echoed throughout the inside of the bathysphere as he turned from the window with cheeks bulging and juice already running down his chin. Oh, Jack.

They docked back in Mercury Suites moments later with the lobby oddly quiet as they shuffled through with arm-fulls of groceries. Once they made it to the foyer of the complex, Jane struggled with wanting to drop all bags near the door then and there - certainly not used to lugging everything such a far distance with two other people to keep accounted for. And yet, Reggie and Jack were there to help set everything on the kitchen island and she finally had a moment to see exactly how much she ended up getting. Needless to say, maybe the thirty dollars Fontaine had given her was sufficient enough. 

And yet, even as he walked in as they were getting the final bags set on the island, she was proud to remove the three dollars she had left in change. Fontaine quirked his brow as she held out the remaining bills, and the smile was barely there as he took them from her palm. 

“I take it you were successful then?” 

“Of course.” Jane glanced over to the bags on the island. “Or, at least I thought we were.” 

Fontaine peeked over her shoulder as well when she looked back, nodding slowly in agreement. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about ordering food for a long while. He looked over to Reggie then who held up his hands immediately. 

“Hey, I can at least second that. Even when she was talkin’ to that other woman.” 

“Well -” The borderline sharp gaze that turned back to her set her face on fire, the heat crawling up from her chest almost causing her to sputter in defense. “She’s a close friend. She was asking about Jack and I told her he was just the son of a coworker I was watching for the day.” 

Fontaine crossed his arms then, noticing he was skating and edge and Jane quickly added, “She believed it, trust me. I would have been there talking to her longer if she kept questioning it.” 

The kitchen was quiet for a few seconds with Jane chewing the inside of her cheeks to shreds until Fontaine finally shrugged. 

“I believe you. Don’t have a reason not to if you’re not comin’ back in a panic or anythin’.” 

The sigh melted all tension that was quick to bunch her shoulders, glad to be hearing her little quick save with Jack was just water under the bridge now. But as she turned to start putting everything away, she caught the wide yawn from the boy out of the corner of her eye. 

“Aw, Jack -” Jane tilted her head with a sympathetic smile. “Do you need your nap?” 

The nod was quick in response, and she took no time with a hand extended to take him up to his room. As they walked by Fontaine and Reggie, she nodded back to the bags on the table with a quick, “I’ll take care of that after Jack.” as she left the kitchen with the boy by her side. 

They both watched her, Reggie a bit more intently until he could no longer hear them walking up the stairs and he muttered over to Fontaine. “Wanna talk to you about somethin’.” 

Fontaine’s quick glance was curious, instead, he shrugged it off and motioned for them to head up to his office. As they were ascending the stairs, they both kept their eyes on Jack’s room and the movement inside until they were behind the privacy of the bedroom door. 

“It’s nothin’ bad, I promise.” Reggie chuckled to himself as they entered Fontaine’s office. “Just…had Jane tell me somethin’ on the way to Arcadia that was a little peculiar.” 

Fontaine took to leaning on one corner of his desk, crossing his arms with a brow raised towards Reggie. “Peculiar, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Reggie wandered towards the bookshelf off to the right of the desk and started scanning the titles. “She was askin’ about how long we’ve known each other an’ I started askin’ about her life on the surface.” 

He turned back to Fontaine whose previously curious expression sharpened, brows knitting as he leaned forward slightly as if encouraging Reggie to continue. 

“She started talkin’ about how she grew up in Maine an’ moved to New York when she was young. I guess she lost her mom an’ moved back to Maine to go to college an’ grad school.” 

Interesting.

Reggie lifted a finger to tap the spine of a familiar book; one with a title on marine biology and noticed how the binding of the spine was distorted a bit with the foreign contents taking up extra space in the center of the pages. “She mentioned workin’ at a bar at one point while in school an’ before she came down to Rapture.” 

Fontaine felt something in his stomach flip, heart thumping just a tad harder than before and he placed both palms on the desk with fingers gripping the edge. "A bar? Did she say what it was?” 

“She did actually, I was just as curious an’ asked the name.” Reggie turned with hands finding solace in his pockets. “She said it was a bar called The Siren. I guess she worked as the bartender for a good few years an’ lived in the town.” He hummed to himself. “What was it called…Portland? Big fishin’ town with a beach an’ pier.” 

“Fuck -” Fontaine stood suddenly, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck at the realization. 

Reggie smirked. “What was the town you visited a lot in Maine? Where that woman lived?” 

The pause between them was heavy, the air building with a briny sludge that was starting to restrict his breathing as Fontaine paced in front of his desk. “Portland…Portland, Maine.” 

Another breathless huff, but a tad more nervous as Reggie watched Fontaine get increasingly tense and almost…confused. 

“Frank - it’s her, it’s gotta be. The town, the bar, the name. I’ve met her the couple of times I traveled with you up to that town. Even just seein’ her for the first time in so long, she seemed familiar enough.” 

Fontaine kept his pace back and forward in front of his desk, a hand positioned up to his chin as he thought. “I didn’t want to admit it, I suppose.” He finally spoke up. “But, fuck Reg - that’s Jane. Somethin' in me just knew it was her -” His pacing stopped and he leaned against the side of his desk again with attention now on his friend. “Can’t be anyone else. But, damn it’s been so long .”

“When was the last time you saw her?” 

A chuckle, one that wasn’t funny in the slightest. “Fuck I don’t know…a decade maybe?” 

The whistle almost startled him as Reggie shook his head. “A decade? And lemme guess, you didn’t say anythin’ to her before you left either?” 

Damn, he didn’t tell Reggie about any of this, did he? 

“No, of course, I didn’t. Did you think I was gonna risk her life like that?” He didn’t mean to sound as harsh as he did, but the realization that the Jane in his complex now was the same woman he couldn’t tear himself away from on the surface was starting to fog his thoughts. He had his assumptions regardless, but all of it was rather a front to keep the truth from smacking him in the face as hard. 

He stood from his desk then, taking a few steps behind to search for a cigarette or something. “I didn’t want her followin’ me down here, so I kept my mouth shut an’ left her on the surface.” 

“And - you thought that wouldn’t come back to bite you?” 

“Obviously not.” Fontaine slammed the drawers to his desk shut after not finding a single goddamn cigarette anywhere. “Nor did I expect to see her again down in this god-forsaken city, or live in my goddam complex.” 

Reggie scoffed. “And you had no idea when you invited her to stay?” 

Fontaine sighed and took a breath. “I did! Or at least had the assumption.” He lowered his head with attention staring unfocused at the top of his desk. “But, shit, I didn’t actually want to believe it was her.” 

They stood there in silence for a few seconds, Reggie moving to one corner of the desk and lifting a cigarette from his pocket to roll towards Fontaine. “Is that a bad thing?” Stormy eyes lifted back up to him, narrowing and Reggie shrugged. “Look, I’m just sayin’. Gotta face the truth at some point, especially since you’ve been ignorin’ it for the past decade.” 

A hand reached out of the cigarette as Fontaine rolled it between his thumb and forefinger in thought. “She’s not gonna find out.” He spoke, voice low and looming. “I know it’s her, but there’s no way in hell she’s gonna find out ‘bout me.” 

“Uh-huh - “ Reggie scoffed, “Let me know how that goes.” 

And with that, he turned to leave the office, stopping at the door leading to the bedroom. “You know, Frank…I’ve known you long enough an’ when to call you on your bullshit. But this? It just ain’t about you anymore.” The quick tug on his lips was telling enough as Fontaine lit the cigarette Reggie had given him. “Gotta face these things at some point.” 

“Eventually,” Fontaine spoke around the first puff, silver smoke pluming up above him. “For now, this stays between us.” 

The shrug was as nonchalant as he could make it, believing the man should rather face these things head-on now to avoid it getting worse in the future. But hey, the relationship - or whatever it was - he had on the surface with that woman was Frank’s deal. He was just lucky Reggie was a good enough person and friend to be there when shit did eventually end up blowing back up. He saved his friend’s ass on the surface more times than he could count on both hands. Fortunately, he was lucky this Fontaine character was a lot more collected and particular. Reggie believed, that if Frank was careful enough, Jane might actually never find out about him. 

As he left the office to head back downstairs and help Jane, he stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and watched her for a few seconds. Her particular movements were careful and graceful as she moved from the cupboards then to the fridge, then back to the pantry as if she’s lived here for years. Knowing now that this was her, the same woman from the surface behind that bar making each patron’s drink with little concentration but a precision that only came with years of practice and patience; seeing this woman now was obvious she couldn’t be anyone else. 

He’d give Frank a couple of months, tops, to remain in control of this situation. If anything, he was itching to see it all play out, knowing the Jane on the surface was a force to be reckoned with. There was no way she’d let Frank off easy. And Reggie would honestly give anything to see his friend be put in his place for once, a good sock to the jaw, anything to prove him in the wrong this time. 

Patience is most certainly a virtue. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

The office was not quite what she had expected. Jane has seen what the ocean does to metal, the salt corroding and rusting; turning any environment of calm to that smelling strongly of bloodied copper, with a sickly sea green hue. However, Dr. Lamb’s space was not of the sort. She had managed to cover the dew and brine with bright ornaments and luxurious fabrics; creating a safe space for those who haven’t seen the sun in years. Her eyes bounced from such trinkets and awards lining the doctor’s shelves; until she noticed the curious pattern of blue butterflies here and there. She had heard muttering of these butterflies, a symbol for a secret society within Rapture. Ryan, if he were to hear about it, would not like such organizations blossoming in the gutters of his city. However, who was she to tell? She was here for an appointment with Dr. Lamb and nothing more. 

“Miss Carter?” 

The name bounced off the decorated walls surrounding her, her head moving from the mounted plaques to the woman’s voice who had called. 

Dr. Lamb’s rather thin and lengthy six-foot frame stood in the doorway to an adjacent office from the room Jane currently waited in. Her hands behind her back with her pointed chin lifted high. If she didn’t know any better, she’d assume the shrink was eyeing her up; assessing her underlying issues without a word's notice. The doctor’s eyes, however, appeared almost soft and welcoming behind those cat-eyed glasses. 

“Dr. Lamb,” Jane stood straight and held a hand out, a sudden burst of nerves causing her to tremble slightly, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Lamb held out a hand and gripped hers hard, a smile blooming against her sharp features. 

“Likewise, Miss Carter. It’s a pleasure. Please,” Lamb kept a firm grip on her hand as she pulled softly on her arm, stretching the other to guide her into the office, “this way.” 

Jane hesitated, her legs locking as a quick wave of panic washed over her; feeling her cheeks become hot. The situation reeked of danger, her instinct to flee rattling around in her brain, trying to get her body to react correctly. As quickly as the panic hit, however, she forced it to subside and pushed her body forward to enter. 

The office was the same as the waiting room, lightly decorated with warm colors, more trinkets, and awards littering the room. Despite the number of items, the space was fairly organized and clean. A plant sat in the corner with a light shining down on it as well. Dr. Lamb motioned for her to sit on a loveseat sofa while she took a matching armchair next to it, a clipboard already awaiting her. Jane took her seat and quickly folded her hands; back straightening as her form struggled to remain in a decent posture on the cream-colored cushions sinking deep under her. 

“Now, are we comfortable?” 

Jane forced a smile and nodded, a second wave of panic starting to creep up her spine. Oh, god was she ready for this? 

“Good.” Lamb adjusted her glasses and switched her attention to the clipboard in her lap. “If it’s alright, I just want to confirm a few things with you, darling.” 

The nod was quick again as Jane sat up more on the shifting cushion, “Yes, of course.” 

“Wonderful. Now, Miss Jane Marie Carter, born March 13th, 1922 in Scarborough, Maine; you came down to Rapture in 1950 and worked as a desk clerk at the Medical Pavilion for a few years, then the Fishbowl Diner - where are you now, dear?” 

Jane watched her actively scribble down some notes as she cleared her throat before responding, “The, um - the Futuristics, ma’am. I was a receptionist there for a few weeks before taking a position as a biologist in the labs.” 

“Wonderful.” Lamb’s tone was rather flat as she asked the next few questions while continuing her writing. “I have in my notes you received your Masters on the surface in Marine Biology. Do you like your job at the Futuristics?” 

“Oh, of course.” Jane felt herself perk up a bit, hands still wringing themselves in her lap. “I much prefer what I’m doing now over the receptionist job I previously had.” 

“I can imagine why.” Lamb glanced up at her with a ghost of a smile, her English accent more prominent as she asked her final question. “Now, I guess that leads us to why you’re here, Miss Carter. What is it I can do for you today?” 

She sputtered for a second, trying to remember why the hell she was even here in the first place. “Well, you must get people coming to you a lot about this, I think I’ve heard someone mention it as um -” She glanced quickly to the plant in the corner, “sun deprivation?”  

Lamb had fixed her attention on her after jotting down the last of her notes, the look on her face understanding but just a tad curious - as if Lamb didn’t believe her. She reached up to adjust her glasses again and sat forward a bit. 

“Yes, this is something many come to me for after experiencing depressive states and low energy. Rather common, of course, for many of us down in an underwater city.” A smirk lifted her thin lips, one sharp enough to slice a cut of meat. “Although, I’m surprised at how long people are taking before recognizing these symptoms. Some, like yourself, have been down in Rapture for almost several years without an issue until now.” 

Jane felt a nervous chuckle spill from her lips, her lower back starting to hurt at how tall she’s tried to keep herself; hands folding themselves in her lap over and over before she squeezed them tightly. She wasn’t sure why she was suddenly so anxious about hiding the reason why she decided to come and talk to Sofia in the first place. But, the knowing look Lamb was giving her then churned her stomach, and for a split second, she honestly thought she was going to get sick right there on the patterned rug beneath her. 

“Miss Carter,” Lamb shifted in the armchair, crossing her legs and readjusting the skirt of her navy dress. “I am here for you, as I am for everyone. But, I cannot help you to resolve something that is not an issue.” 

Jane lowered her gaze to the floor again, feeling the shame burn her face and scorch her ears, like a child scolded for lying. 

“I don’t believe you to be experiencing sun deprivation as you’re in a job position you enjoy and in an environment that caters to you. Now -” Lamb cleared her throat and Jane immediately shifted her attention back to the doctor. “I’m not saying this is something that will not affect you during your time in Rapture, humans aren’t meant to live as we do, but I have the feeling you’re here for something else, something sitting a tad deeper. Is that correct?” 

The nod was slow, the forced smile drooping along with her spine as she finally allowed the cushions below to take her. 

“Good, the first step is recognizing the issue. And if you’re ready, the next is talking about it.” Lamb smiled again, this one a tad more genuine as she folded her hands atop the clipboard. “I’m all ears for you, Jane. Just start from where you’d like.” 

Her mind blanked and started racing all at once, thoughts conflicting and she fought with herself for a second on how much she wanted to talk about. What Lamb could actually help her with. 

“I guess - “ She tried to sit up again, but found herself too far gone in the embroidered patterned cushions beneath her. “I’m not sure where it matters most to start. I could go as far back as my mother’s death when I was young or - “ She chewed the inside of her cheek as she hesitated. “The loss of someone else in my life…” 

Lamb scribbled something down quickly on the clipboard. “Which is the most recent?”

“The, um - the second loss.” 

“Then, let’s start there.”

Jane felt her nails bite her palms then, remembering to relax and unclench her fists before speaking again. “Alright,” She sat there for a second, willing herself to just calm down. Jane’s never talked to anyone other than Ann about the man from the surface, and she had to come to terms that Lamb was here to help her hopefully move on from him. If he was dead, she had to let go. 

With that thought floating at the forefront of her mind, she took a breath, allowing the exhale to be long and slow as Lamb waited patiently. 

“It might seem - stupid - I suppose, but I had met someone while I was working my bartending job on the surface. It was in ‘42 around early spring, he had come in towards the end of the night.” Jane paused to wrack her memory. “I don’t believe it was busy that night. And while I knew almost all the sailors and fishermen to frequent the bar, I remember never seeing this man before.” 

She watched Lamb scrawl down a few more notes and forced another slow exhale. 

“We started talking, and I found he wasn’t a local but visited the town often between traveling for work. He’d leave frequently, sometimes for months on end but he always returned, always came back to that bar at least a couple of times a week.” Jane smiled at the memory. “After my mother’s death, and my father remarrying, I had often found it difficult to put my trust in people - but this man…” She paused to look Lamb in the eye. “It was just - easy. He was easy to talk to, easy to trust, easy to love -” 

Lamb nodded then, pen scratching against the textured paper, raising goosebumps along Jane’s arms. 

“Easy to love? What happened to this man, do you know?” 

“I - I,” Jane sighed, frustration starting to tangle her words. “I don’t, actually. He left one day for a usual business trip, he said he’d only be gone for a few months but - he never came back.” Even saying it out loud again, it all still stumped her. “There was no letter, no phone call, no indication he’d leave. So, I guess I just assumed the worst.” Her chest ached at how hard her heart was clenching, her throat starting to scratch at how she tried to keep every sob concealed. 

Lamb’s features softened a bit. “The worst?” 

“That he - that he was dead.” 

The doctor had set her pen down, folding her hands in front of her with eyes just looking Jane over. She felt herself squirm a bit under that intense gaze. 

"The mind likes to create memories, situations, and explanations to things we don’t know - or may never know. And it’s understandable to see where you’re coming from on assuming this man to be dead.” Lamb paused to formulate her next words carefully. “However, could it be possible this man is not dead?” 

The shrug was honest as Jane finally melted into the back cushions of the couch. “I mean, it is possible. But, I didn’t know what he did on these business trips he’d take. And it wasn’t like him to just - vanish as he did.” A sigh. “None of it makes sense. And I suppose my first assumption was that he’s dead, murdered...or something.” 

“When was the last time you saw him?” 

Oh, man. “A decade, maybe? It was the spring of ‘46 when he had left Portland where I was working and living.” 

“And you’ve received nothing from him within this past decade?” 

She shook her head, shoulders slumping with the movement. “I suppose, it’s outlandish for me to assume he’s dead. It’s just - the only conclusion I could bring myself to that helped me to move on, that helped me decide to come down to Rapture.”

Lamb wrote one last note before putting her pen down again. “No thoughts are outlandish when it comes to the disappearance of someone you once cared about. But -” She sat forward a little bit. “It might help to change that mindset from ‘dead’ to ‘missing’, rather. However, my concern is how to heal from this, and how to move on. And in that case, my dear, death is a bit of a different grieving process; knowing that a person is truly gone from our lives.” 

All this information is something she surely hasn’t heard before, Ann even telling her the same thing, in a much looser fashion anyway. “But, how do I move on from it?” 

“It won’t happen overnight. Of course, I assumed you figured as much as well being it’s been a decade and such an occurrence is still present to the degree it is.” Lamb shifted to her left where an end table sat, and opening the drawer, she fished around the contents until she pulled out a small journal. 

Handing the journal over to Jane, she took it with hesitancy, the leatherbound book a heavy weight in her palms. 

“We’ll start with a fairly simple exercise. What I would like you to do, Miss Carter, is to write a letter.” 

“A - a letter?” 

Lamb adjusted her glasses. “A goodbye letter, a confession letter, whatever you’ve had on your mind that you wish to tell him, or maybe wanted to tell him before he disappeared.” 

Jane felt her brows knit, “And…what should I do with it after?” 

“Well, you can return with it - if you wish to have another session - and read it aloud or have me read it, if you’d like. Simulate as if you’d be giving the letter to this man.” Lamb suggested. 

“Would that really help?”

Lamb smiled, the genuine lift of her lips still ever-present. “I suppose we’ll have to see if it does. The whole point of this exercise is to start somewhere, dear.” 

While it was rather - odd to be writing a letter to someone she presumed dead. It still provided a strange sense of hope she hadn’t felt in quite some time. 

“Now, Miss Carter, would you be interested in returning for a second appointment?” 

Jane nodded in response before she even got the chance to look at Lamb. “Of course, if you’re not too booked in the coming weeks.” 

The laugh was something she almost didn’t expect to hear from the doctor, the gentle smile was already a bit altering enough. “I’m sure I can find a time and day for us to meet again.” She stood up then with Jane following, the two walking to the front of the office as Lamb opened the door for Jane. 

“I’ll send a letter through the pneumo with a potential date and time in the next couple of weeks. Feel free to call or write back confirming, or if there was another day you were available. For now -” She held the door as Jane stepped through the threshold and back into the waiting room. “I hope today was helpful for you, Miss Carter. Was there anything else I could do for you today, or to keep in mind for next time?” 

Her stomach twisted then at her next thought prompted by Lamb’s question. Jane was hesitant, again, to even mention it but found that this first session went well enough - what did she have to lose? 

“Actually, there is something I’ve been struggling with lately - seeing this man in other people, as if his ghost or memory is haunting me. And recently, I just - I just can’t stop seeing him in my boss, Fontaine. I’ve recently moved in with him and it’s just gotten worse, I -” She shut her mouth with a click and an innocent giggle towards Lamb. “O-of course, this can certainly be something for our next appointment.” 

Lamb stood stock still as she listened to her, doing everything in her power to keep the smile from curling her lips. “Yes, of course, dear. Certainly, something we can save for next time.” 

Jane felt another delicate huff of laughter spill from her lips as she gave a slight wave and ducked out from the doorframe. Lamb returned the wave and closed the door gently behind her, hand still gripping the doorknob as the smile finally broke on her features and cracked her facade. 

Oh, interesting. “Very interesting.” 

~*~

The journal was held close to her chest as she entered the complex, the door shuttering closed behind her and she heaved a hefty sigh. She wasn’t used to returning home so soon during the week, and even as she took to leaving the labs early today for her appointment, she brought it up to Brigid on potentially returning after. To which, the woman was insisting that she’d be fine by herself for the rest of the afternoon, much to Jane’s disappointment. She was getting close to a breakthrough with the slugs and ADAM, wanting to see if she could put her one hypothesis into motion of if she could actually try and revive an extinct species with ADAM. She had to start small, however, and work her way up to larger animals with Brigid helping her currently in obtaining the smaller organisms first. Jane also had the fleeting thought of using the same method on plant species within the ocean, and if it would be possible for Rapture to sustain itself from these - seemingly endless - natural resources with ADAM fueling their constant production. 

Baby steps, she had to prove such a thing was even possible first. 

Just the thought of the whole project was getting her excited, and she checked the clock once walking into the kitchen and saw she’d have the time to make a nice dinner for everyone with how early it was. But first, she turned to walk back up to the living space to place the journal on her cot, giving it a second glance before walking out the door and back down to the kitchen. Passing Jack’s room on the way, she caught a glimpse of Reggie reading to Jack. Helping him to sound out words and explain their definitions in a book Jack’s been trying to read for the past few days. 

Smiling to herself, she continued back down to the kitchen and started gathering all the ingredients and cooking ware to finally make her casserole dish. Before getting her hands dirty, she even took to turning on the radio sitting on a side countertop in the kitchen, tuning it until she heard the few notes to one of her favorite songs. The smooth jazz echoed off of the tiled floors, reverberating against the appliances and filling the space with an almost haunting melody. 

It took her back to her small kitchen on the surface; making a quick dinner before a long shift at the bar, but she always took to turning on the radio and letting her favorite stations wisk her away with her thoughts. All she needed now was a good rainstorm with drops pattering against the windows, lightning illuminating the space every few minutes, and the rumbling of thunder shaking the air. 

As much as she loved the ocean, grew up on and near the water for the majority of her life, and loved living in Rapture - she missed the rain, the storms, the thunder, and the lightning. Missed the droplets drumming on the wooden planks outside the bar along the pier and boardwalk. And missed the haze that would extend across the shore and stretch neverending into the ocean. 

She missed how he would throw his jacket over them as they’d race back to her apartment after a shift, getting caught in a spontaneous storm. Endless giggles and laughter when the rain would get heavier, fall harder, his jacket getting soaked but did its job in keeping them at least semi-dry. 

The memories hit her square in the chest, hand lifting from stirring the noodles boiling on the stove to grasp at her shirt. On the way back from Lamb’s, she debated on writing the letter as soon as she got back - a million different things she just wanted to word vomit crowding her thoughts. Maybe tonight, in the darkness and isolated safety of the living area before she went to bed, she’ll allow everything to come through and start the whole process of moving on. 

Shifting her attention then to start making the sauce for the casserole, and preheating the oven, she noticed the front door opening behind her in the foyer. Steps followed the noise upstairs with the familiar creaking of Fontaine’s bedroom door moving on worn hinges. Looking back at the clock behind her, she saw it was 5:30 already, a huffed laugh puffed under her breath once realizing that Fontaine would certainly have a few questions for her. Considering she’s usually never home before he is, even though she’s only been living here for a month now, their routines and schedules have been pretty consistent. Not too soon after, Jane heard the footsteps coming back down the stairs, slower and more nonchalantly before hearing someone clear their throat behind her. 

“Thought I smelled somethin’ but didn’t expect you to be home so early.” 

She switched from the sauce boiling on one burner to checking on the noodles on another, listening but not turning with her response. “I thought I had mentioned it before. I had an appointment today and left the lab early.” 

“An appointment?” She saw him out of the corner of her eye, grabbing for a glass from a cupboard and a bottle of whiskey kept in another. 

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she moved to sprinkle some herbs into the sauce. “Yeah, with - um - with Dr. Lamb? If it’s any consolation, HR did approve me to leave early for it.” 

The hefty clank of the whiskey bottle against the marble countertop startled her, and she turned to see Fontaine corking the bottle with his gaze sharp on her. 

“Dr. Lamb? Really?” The mocking tone was enough for her cheeks to flare up, and she straightened her spine while stirring the sauce for the noodles. Anything to distract her. 

“Yes. What’s wrong with Dr. Lamb?” 

The scoff was muted as he lifted the glass to his lips. “The woman’s a loon, you can practically smell the crazy on her.” 

“She’s not crazy.” She reached to turn off the burner for the noddles, keeping her voice steady. “Lamb’s a therapist, she’s supposed to sympathize with people who aren’t all there themselves.” 

The glass was next to hit the countertop with another sharp and startling sound. “Yeah? What does that say ‘bout yourself then?” 

Jane gave him a quick, but serrated sideglance before moving to grab a baking dish. Calm, she had to keep herself calm. If this past month has taught her anything, it was that Fontaine wasn’t as intimidating as he’s been made out to be, that she didn’t have a reason to be scared of him - or scared of arguing with him. Bantering…rather.  She found he enjoyed pushing her for some reason, but she was becoming more confident in standing her ground and sort of putting him in his place. She was always good at it on the surface with her bar patrons. If anything, it was helping to work on her assertion. 

The huff was obvious, “See. You keep goin’ back to her, you’re gonna end up a crackpot all the same.” 

“She is not.” Jane didn’t mean to set the dish as hard as she did on the countertop, her minuscule sneer just barely concealed as she watched him take another sip of the whiskey. 

“Yeah?” Fontaine stepped a bit closer to her. “You wanna explain that little retreat park she’s got goin’ on? I’ve seen Cohen’s little masquerades an’ even she’s on a different level of crack than that freak artist is. That whole place is one big goddamn social experiment.”

The sputtered laugh almost surprised her just as much. “What, have you been there? You can’t just say something like that about someone.” 

“Don’t need to. I can be across the room from her an’ pick up on the crazy.” He leaned against the counter next to her with a smirk. 

Jane let out a long and steady breath before moving to place the noodles, steamed veggies, and freshly chopped tuna into the baking dish. “Well, if it’s any consolation, Lamb’s helping me through the death of my mother that happened when I was young.” She glanced over to him as he stood stock still, the glass back to his lips. “She could do you some good too, at least with opening up; since I even had problems with just getting a straight answer from you on what to make for dinner. If you actually ever consumed anything other than whiskey.” 

The brow raise accompanied by those stormy gray eyes narrowed toward her. “Be sure to choose your next words wisely, Doll.” he sneered, leaning over as she scooped the sauce from its pot to cover the top of the dish. 

“Why? Because the next thing I say will only prove my point? At how right I am?” 

She almost expected to see the anger tensing his form but instead was greeted with a smirk pulling at his lips, and she couldn’t help the way her stomach flipped - rather far from fear. 

“Lookachu - didn’t know you could hold your own in a disagreement.” 

His response was a complete 180 and she tried not to miss the oven, or burn herself, as she bent to place the baking dish on the top rack as she spoke. ”Well, of course, I can. I bartended on the surface as the only woman on the staff and in the building during my shifts.” She stood and closed the door to the oven, setting a nearby timer as well. “I had to be able to put some unruly patrons in their place.” 

She turned to lean with one hip against the countertop and arms crossed as he took another sip from the glass, his gaze heavy on her and it felt like she was suffocating from that alone. 

“Sounds like that would’ve been a treat to see.” The smirk to lift his lips made her itch 

Instead, a soft scoff pooled under her breath and Jane moved to start cleaning up some of the dishes. “I mean, it wasn’t a spectacle or anything.” She placed a few dishes in the sink and paused for a second before reaching to turn on the faucet. “But, if it really bothers you - I’ll stop seeing Dr. Lamb.” 

“Oh, please,” Fontaine turned from her to reach for the whiskey bottle again. “If you do, I’ll hear it from Reggie that you’ve started usin’ him to talk about all your past issues or whatever.” 

And with that, he left the kitchen with the bottle and near-empty glass, heading towards his office no doubt. But, not before stopping for a second and turning to speak over his shoulder. “Feel free to let me know when dinner’s ready.” And he was gone. 

Jane heaved a heavy sigh and turned back to the sink where she started running the faucet to clean the pile of dishes; wondering if she really should add Fontaine to her list of things to talk about during her next session with Lamb. 

~*~

Things seemed to go back to normal as the evening went on, Fontaine joining them for dinner instead of taking a plate back up to his office. It was his turn to give Jack his medication anyway, and rather than leaving immediately after, he took his usual seat at the dining table. And she quickly found out that the casserole dish she made was a favorite of his, who would have thought? Guess her gut feeling was right when she bought another bag of the noodles, having a strange inclination he might like it as much as the man from the surface, whom she made the dish many times for. 

And after, as she asked Jack to wash up and start getting ready for bed, Fontaine also brought some of the remaining dishes over to her in the kitchen. He usually never helped to clean up either, but she wasn’t complaining. 

Something potent hung above them then as she started packing up what leftovers there were, and he put the last of the silverware in the sink with the rest of the dishes. But, he didn’t turn to leave right away, rather watching her scoop what was left of the casserole in awaiting storage containers. 

“Sorry - ‘bout your mother.” 

An apology? She had to do a double-take over to him, just in case she didn’t hear him correctly. Those were words she thought she’d never hear from him. 

A smart remark sat on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it quickly. “Thank you.” 

He still has his glass from earlier, taking small sips from it as he leaned back against the counter next to her. “How old were you?” 

She took a breath. “I was 10. She got really sick several months after we moved to New York. My father received a promotion for his job that ended up relocating us. It was pneumonia, a really bad case of it that was treated too late.” 

“Damn.” 

“Yeah.” She moved to start washing the remaining dishes. “I know it may seem…strange, that I’m seeking help for this after so long.” Jane paused again, tilting her head to watch him from the corner of her eye. “But, it was the first of a continuous string of events involving my father remarrying, me moving back to Maine, meeting someone -” She couldn’t believe the words about to leave her mouth. “His disappearance. Then coming to Rapture.” 

“Disappearance?” 

She avoided turning back to him, instead focusing on scrubbing off some of the dried pasta from what was Jack’s plate. “We were close, me and this guy. Not official in any way, but his disappearance is what sort of drove me to come to Rapture. Didn’t have my mom, didn’t have him, really didn’t have my father either - so what did I have to lose coming down here?” Jane lifted her head to give a rather weak smile, not expecting him to care at all about what she was saying. 

And yet, she honestly really didn’t know why he was here in the kitchen with her either. He’s usually quick to retreat to his office. And, he asked her anyway, it’d be rude of her to not respond. She just hoped she was being as vague as possible. Spare the man the gritty details of her life she hadn’t even told Lamn as of yet.  

Fontaine took another sip of the whiskey, its bitter taste a little sour going down this time as he cleared his throat. Damn, he didn’t know about her mother. Didn’t know much about her family on the surface either. Even when he’d ask, she was quick to shut her mouth and change the topic. He got the general idea that her mother wasn’t around anymore and there was beef between her and her father. He never would have thought her mother died of an illness, and her father seemed rather quick to remarry after. 

Funny, he didn’t think both of them would end up having daddy issues. 

But, he knew there had to be some reason behind her defensive personality, fierce independence, and wit as he knew her on the surface. A little bit of that finally started to show through earlier when he pressed her about Lamb. He didn’t mean to set her off or anything and didn’t want to turn her off to the idea of going back to that shrink - just wanted to try and pick at a little bit of the Jane he knew from the surface. Apparently, he went a little too hard and too deep, not knowing she was seeing Lamb for her mother’s death and his own disappearance. 

But, she still couldn’t know. He just had to grit his teeth and drop the topic. 

“You know, you don’t have to stop seein’ Lamb. I was just messin’ with you earlier.”

The quirk on her lip was small, along with the brow to raise along with it. “Really? I couldn’t tell.” 

If anything, if he couldn’t come right out and say who he was and as she remembered him to be, the wisecracking between them could certainly be something he could get used to. Definitely not being able to do it with Jack, and Reggie usually threatened to leave and never come back if Fontaine wanted to start any bantering-type shit with him. Anything to convince himself that letting Jane stay here wasn’t a bad idea, knowing exactly who she was now. She’s proved herself useful within this first month at least. 

Instead of responding right away, he just took a second to watch her stack the clean dishes on the drying rack next to the sink. And it was - sort of strange to be seeing her now about a decade later. As much as she really hadn’t changed, appearance-wise, he could tell her choice of dress and hairstyles matured with her; certainly nothing that didn’t flatter her already. And just when he realized he was staring for a little too long, Jane gave him a quick side glance as he cleared his throat; taking a tentative sip from the whiskey barely pooling at the bottom of the glass. 

“Guess I’ll go an’ see if Jacks’ ready for bed. The kid will probably want another story read to him.” 

She took the glass as he started handing it off to her. He figured she’d accept one last dish if he was putting Jack to bed this time around. And before he turned to leave, Fontaine gave a soft huff to get her attention. 

“An’ thanks, Jane, for dinner.” 

Before she could return the smile, he was gone, leaving the kitchen with hands in his pockets; nonchalant and indifferent like nothing had happened just then. However, even as she listened to his footsteps against the creaking wood of the stairs, she couldn’t help the flush to heat her cheeks and grin to lift her lips ever so slightly. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

Wide eyes, burning and heavy from the ghost of sleep, strained to make out the time on the small bedside clock. Vision blurred for a second before focusing on the hands to make out it was finally 5:40 am. Another restless night of tossing and turning, thinking with how long she’d been sleeping on this cot, she’d be used to its resistant surface. And yet, while the first few hours would come easily, she’d find herself rudely awakened by the stabbing pain in her lower back. And, as it always was since she was young, once she was awake - it was almost impossible to find the night’s sweet embrace again to lull her back to sleep. After a while, she just wondered when the piles of folded blankets under her would be enough cushioning - when it would be enough for her to sacrifice the warmth of said blankets for comfort. 

Her gaze, weighted and sluggish, shifted over toward the couch in longing. And yet, she’d already tried sleeping on the couch, finding that its cushions were no softer than the cot. She needed her mattress and bed back at her apartment - or what was her apartment. Neither of which she had anymore, and it crossed her mind on several occasions how hard it would be to ask Fontaine for an actual mattress, since she was living there permanently now. 

But, she wasn’t like that - making a big deal out of nothing. As long as she was getting enough sleep to do what she needed for the day, that’s all that mattered. Speaking of which, the list of what she wanted to complete before heading into the labs started scrolling through her head. A sudden yawn stretched her jaw as she moved from the armchair she found herself curled up halfway through the night. She placed a book by Dr. Langford off to the side as well that she took to reading to fill the annoying silence sleep couldn’t shelter her from. 

Laundry, sweep, change, Jack’s medication and breakfast. 

Laundry, sweep, change, Jack’s medication and breakfast. 

Laundry, change, sweep, Jack’s medication and breakfast. 

Laundry, change, sweep, Jack’s medication and breakfast. 

No, no. 

Laundry, sweep, change, Jack’s medication and breakfast. 

The words repeated themselves like a waterfall of thoughts tumbling, no longer cohesive as she made her way down the stairs to where the washer and dryer were. She didn’t even bother to turn any lights on either, the groaning ocean churning outside the complex pitch black, and Jane still easily found the chilled handle to the small closet the washer and dryer sat in. Tugging on the pull chain for the single lightbulb in the limited space, deft hands were quiet and quick to open the dryer door and start folding the remaining laundry left from the previous evening. 

Another intense yawn broke her concentration on one of Jack’s shirts, brows also knitting at the article once realizing how small it seemed. Didn’t Fontaine mention something to her about Jack occasionally having extraordinary growth spurts? She wondered then if it would be possible to talk him into letting her take Jack out for some new clothes. If the boy loved the Farmer’s Market as much as he did, she had no doubt he’d love the bustling of Apollo’s Square with all the endless shops and display windows. 

The thought alone caused a slight grin to break along her otherwise solidified features. And no sooner than later, she had the rest of the laundry folded, switching over what was in the washer to the dryer and starting it on low. Grabbing for the broom next, bare feet padded over towards the kitchen and dining room, turning on just a couple of lights as she went. 

She usually took to turning on the radio as well, allowing the music to whisk the time away. However, as it was only about 6:10 am at this point, she instead listened to the steady thrumming of the city from outside the dining room window, and a whale’s call from somewhere off in the far distance. It wasn’t her favorite music humming throughout the complex, but the ocean’s noise was its own song she found all the more addictive. Luckily the more she was up and kept herself busy, the less frequent the yawning became. And by the time she had changed, started breakfast for Jack, and the coffee pot for Fontaine, the complex started to come alive a bit with familiar footsteps trailing down the stairs at the usual 7 am. 

“Damn,” The voice huffed behind her, “you got the laundry started too? Startin’ to put me to shame at how early you must be gettin’ up.” 

The heat crawled its way up the skin of her neck, matching the rather embarrassed smile in response. 

“I, um - I always tend to wake up early. Bad habit I couldn’t break, I guess.” She turned with a pan of scrambled eggs, making a plate for Jack and one for Fontaine as well. 

However, as she added a couple of scoops of fresh fruit and toast to the plate, Fontaine turned back to the island with his coffee and eyes immediately narrowing. 

Scanning the two plates, he scoffed. “Didn’t make ‘nough for yourself?” 

Jane hummed, already piling the dishes into the sink to wash. “I already ate this morning. It’s ok.” 

Fontaine’s brows followed his expression, knitting in suspicion. Not that he’s been keeping track or anything, but with the same routine pretty much every morning, he couldn’t help but start to notice that she wasn’t eating with them anymore. It was always her bouncing from one thing to the next, and while he appreciated someone finally here to help with Jack and around the complex, she didn’t have to overwhelm herself like she was. And he definitely wasn’t the type of person to hold anything back. 

“You know, I wanna call bullshit on that -” He watched her freeze, and yet she still didn’t look back towards him as he spoke. “But, I know to mind my own business.” Fontaine forked a bit of the scrambled egg, always impressed with her cooking. “Regardless, you’re no good to Jack an’ me tired an’ hungry.” He also didn’t need to look at her then to notice the tone under her eyes darkening recently. 

However, her answer was simple and rather annoying. “I’m fine.” She turned with the dishtowel between her hands, wiping them dry with the sink already empty and spotless. And with a rather weak smile, her gaze lulled towards the entryway as Jack shuffled through rubbing at his own eyes. “Like I said, I ate already this morning before doing laundry. I wanted to have time to do everything and shower before leaving for the labs.” 

She was already opening the container with Jack’s medication as the kid hoisted himself up onto the barstool. He watched her ruffle Jack’s hair and place a tender kiss on his forehead, a soft ‘good morning’ following as Jack held his arm out for her. His smile was small and sleepy. His eyes were barely open as she carefully stuck his arm with the needle and started feeding the yellow liquid through; cooing to him and petting his hair until the syringe was empty. 

Fontaine’s plate was almost gone as Jane gave Jack his breakfast, the boy perking up at the smell and scooping a healthy forkful when she leaned to place another kiss on his hairline. 

“Put your plate in the sink when you’re done, ok?” She muttered to Jack, gaze immediately snagging Fontaine’s with the same silent request. 

The boy’s nod was certain, along with Fontaine’s eye roll - his own way of response - and Jane thanked them both before heading back upstairs for her shower. 

He didn’t like where this was going. 

Fontaine forked a bit of the egg he had left onto Jack’s plate, who beamed up at him with cheeks full of food, setting his plate into the sink before brewing another cup of coffee. It’s been subtle, but obvious enough to him lately on how it seems like she’s been skipping out on meals to instead work around the complex or head to the labs. Like she’s trying to distract herself from something but is also unintentionally avoiding necessary things. Jane, on the surface at least, wasn’t one to not take care of herself. Did he have to remind her to eat her fair share when he’d spend the night in her apartment and she’d make breakfast for them the next day? Occasionally. She was weird like that, getting so caught up in her studies in school, so lost in future plans; that she’d forget he was even there sometimes. Hell, he’d spend time trying to pry her from her desk in her bedroom to come to bed as the clock would strike 3 in the morning. 

But, she wasn’t in school anymore, and he was pretty lenient with her and Tenenbaum when they arrived and left the labs. So it’s not like she needed to be there so early unless she simply wanted to.

Unless she was maybe avoiding him…for some reason. 

Not too soon after he finished his second mug, watching Jack eat and talk around his food about the book Reggie was trying to help him read; did Jane come back into the kitchen to grab a leftover container in the fridge. Already dressed and done up, she held her recently washed lab coat in one hand as she kissed Jack on the forehead again before rushing back to the kitchen’s entryway. 

“I’ll be back tonight to get the rest of the laundry done and dinner started.” She waved to Fontaine, and he held up a hand to give a slight wave back, but not before calling for her as she turned to leave. 

“Jane - don’t worry ‘bout rushin’ back here. I can get the laundry.” 

For a split second, it looked like she was about to argue back, telling him not to worry about it either. Instead, she gave him a small smile and a nod before leaving for the front door. As Jack finished the rest of his milk, setting the glass on the countertop with a slight dink, Fontaine couldn’t help but stand there with his arms crossed and a shake of his head. No matter how much makeup she used, she still couldn’t hide those dark circles under her eyes. 

~*~

Instead of taking the bathysphere, she opted for the Atlantic Express this time around to get to the labs. Knowing the jostling of the train car to be active enough to keep her from snoozing off in her seat. As always, the bustling of the Futuristics and visiting crowds waiting to see the new line of plasmids was enough to get the energy back and flowing through her as she made her way down to the labs. Saying good morning to familiar faces, Jane was ecstatic to walk into her lab and finally see a container sitting on a table near the door with the one label she’d been waiting for. 

Plant Samples - 09/56

“Just picked them up this morning from Dr. Langford.” 

Jane turned to see Brigid in her lab’s doorway with arms crossed. And yet, the other scientist looked as if she could barely contain her excitement either as Jane was quick to set her things aside and throw her labcoat on. 

“Perfect, thank you, Brigid.” She turned the container a few times, trying to make out the contents through the opaque material before finally opening it. 

Inside sat a few plastic bags with different plant samples, some were native to land and others could be found growing in the ocean. Seaweeds, seagrasses, kelps, and so on while a few leaves, grass from the surface, and petals from different flowers were labeled on each bag. What to try first…

“What exactly is your plan here?” Brigid spoke up next to her as she laid out each bag, hands crossed behind her back as she leaned in to read each one. 

“I’m going to try and take some sample cells from the plants here -” Jane pointed off to where her larger tank of ADAM slugs sat. “And try to see if I can duplicate the cells using ADAM. I was reading a bit on how Langford was able to revive dead and dying plant cells, my original plan - but to go right to duplicating them?” 

The other scientist stood straight when Jane turned to raise a brow at her, Brigid only shrugging in response. “I have not tried duplicating cells before using ADAM, only reviving them, same as Dr. Langford.” 

Jane only hoped the smile to lift her features didn’t appear as deranged as it felt at that moment. Already running off of a few hours of sleep and anticipation for this new project - Brigid just had to trust her madness at this point. 

“If I’m able to do this, just imagine the resources Rapture could use that are a tad more sustainable.” She picked up the bag of grass from the surface, finding it was probably best to start simple. “And of course, will only put more money in the pockets of those who utilize it.” 

Brigid’s smile was small, but reassuring as she also reached for the bag containing a few samples of seaweed. “And I thought ADAM was our best resource here.” She mumbled to herself while turning the bag. 

“Ryan takes to building a massive city down at the bottom of the ocean and still finds himself using archaic methods from the surface to fuel all of it.” Jane plucked the seaweed bag from Brigid’s loose grasp. “Just imagine! Using seaweed and other organic matter to power Rapture or for our materials that could even replace plastic!” 

Brigid picked up the bag of kelp, eyes narrowing as she studied it. “You certainly have the imagination, but even if this does work - how would you go about implementing such changes to Rapture?” 

“Well -” Jane pulled up a stool to the table and started sorting everything into smaller bags for her to study later. “You got the money for your ADAM research project from Fontaine, right? I’m sure - with a promised return investment - he wouldn’t shy away from the possibility of becoming a major resource generator for Rapture.”

“Aside from…Ryan Industries? And the work he’s doing in Hephaestus? I do believe he’s using magma below the ocean floor?” 

Jane lifted her gaze to Brigid’s, a smirk lifting her lips. “What’s a little friendly competition?” She sealed off another smaller bag with a single flower petal. “Besides, what I plan on proposing isn’t as invasive as what Ryan’s doing. One single seaweed plant cell can provide us with years' worth of power without having to harvest outside of Rapture.” 

The scientist shrugged again with arms folded, watching as Jane took to crushing the petal inside the bag with her fingers to break it into smaller pieces to later work with. She then reached for another smaller bag with more separated samples and started crushing those as well. Jane instructed her on where to place the samples as she stood to grab a vial of ADAM she extracted the day prior. Using the grass blade from the surface, Jane took to cutting the pieces up further with a small knife, swabbing the fine fibers before smearing the swab on a glass plate with a dab of solution for her microscope. Everything looked normal at first glance before asking Brigid for the smallest amount of ADAM from the vial. With a syringe in hand, she handed it off for Jane to inject the smallest drop onto the plate with the plant cells. 

She held her breath for a second, wondering if something miraculous would happen then and there. Only to her disappointment, nothing changed. Wouldn’t that have been something? 

“Guess we’ll have to give this until tomorrow.” Jane sat back from the microscope with a hopeful grin. 

Brigid returned the smile as Jane instead moved to start setting up dishes for each sample. Seeing how differently the ADAM would react to the seaweed versus the flower petal. And Brigid was happy to help with swabs and the syringe on hand. And, finally, after some tedious work - they had several sample dishes labeled and swabbed with the smallest drop of ADAM glowing blood red from each dish. 

Jane looked at the row of varying dishes for a second with pride before starting to clean up, Brigid taking to helping her as well. However, the next question from the scientist almost made her fumble with the container that held all the samples as Jane washed it out in the sink. 

“So, how is it living with Fontaine?” 

The water that had been in the container, unfortunately, took no time to soak the front of her lab coat as she almost dropped it.

“What? H-how - how did you know?” She sputtered, looking to Brigid who was wiping down a portion of the table they were doing the sample swabs on. 

She didn’t even need to look up at Jane, but the telling smile was all the more relevant. “You must not have seen me the other day in Mercury Suites. I thought I had waved when I saw you standing at the elevator to his complex.” 

Oh…maybe she did see her. 

“I um - I might have actually. My memory’s been all over the place lately.” She chuckled nervously with Brigid returning to the sink with the cloth she was using to rinse. “But - it’s been good! I was evicted from my apartment about a month or so ago and Fontaine was generous enough to let me stay with him. I’m there as a babysitter for Jack and a housekeeper more than anything.” The equally anxious smile wavered on her lips. “But, I’m paying Fontaine half the rent I did at the Sinclair Deluxe. So, I can’t complain all that much.”

She didn’t realize then that the suds were completely rinsed from the container as she kept scrubbing. Brigid standing a little too close for comfort, doing to best to make it seem like it wasn’t bothering her as much as it was.

“And you have a decent place to sleep?” 

Stitched brows met Brigid’s unwavering gaze, her own hazel eyes seeming as if they were burning a hole straight through her as Jane let out another nervous chuckle. 

“O-of course. Granted, Jack took the spare bedroom, being he was there before me. But - I have my cot, and the couch in his living space if I wanted.” 

Those eyes narrowed for a split second, “Better to ask him for a bed of your own, if he can manage it.” 

Jane wasn’t sure if Brigid could see right through her, being that she was a scientist as well who’d spent her fair share of sleepless nights in the lab. But, even Jane was highly aware of the darker circles under her eyes that morning as she was putting her makeup on. She usually tended to be a little more natural with her makeup, opting for ‘the lighter the better’. But found herself using a bit more powder than she was used to as she tried to even out her skin’s tone. Apparently, it was all to no avail. 

The next exhale felt as if it deflated her whole form as Brigid stepped away, of course, not without giving her arm a gentle pat before leaving for her lab next door. She didn’t even get to thank her for her help…

Jane stood there for a few seconds, attention almost blurring and unfocusing on the door to her lab, the few hours of sleep she got the previous night starting to catch up with her already. She tried to keep herself as busy as she could with cleaning the rest of her lab and taking a good few notes on the samples and potential expected results. And, even as the clock above her door eventually struck 4 pm, she couldn’t stop the groan from slipping and her body from going lax at the thought of another sleepless night. 

Positive thoughts. She had to stay positive. Maybe tonight was the night her back would finally decide to not bother her. The first night in almost a month where she’s able to get a full night’s sleep and wake up the next morning refreshed and ready to check her plant samples. 

And maybe Fontaine actually took to doing the laundry like he said he would. 

After giving Brigid a quick thank you for her help, she was off for the Atlantic Express again. Of course, not until she passed the bathysphere docking station and saw Reggie out of the corner of her eye. The man stood waiting in front of Fontaine’s bathysphere and Jane took a breath before walking over. 

“Reggie!” She waved to the man to get his attention and he turned towards her with a smile. “Are you here for Fontaine?” 

“Actually, I’m here for you. Fontaine stayed at the complex in his office today.” 

Odd. “Oh, I mean, you didn’t have to come pick me up. I was going to take the Atlantic Express like I did this morning.”

Reggie chuckled with a brow raised. “I was requested to come and get you, Miss Carter” With that, he held a hand out behind him to the bathysphere and she looked at him with wide eyes. 

Not taking another moment, she was quick to board the bathysphere with Reggie trailing behind her. Still not used to this treatment bordering on luxury, she watched the crowds of employees leaving the Furturistics to board either their bathyspheres or the Express. And within minutes, they were descending with the view of the ocean she never grew tired of. 

~*~

Returning to the complex, she was rather surprised to find that Fontaine did do the laundry. Even taking what she had folded that morning to disperse amongst himself and Jack. Granted, he didn’t fold what was in the dryer before she left, but the challenging part of trying to get all their laundry together for a wash was taken care of already. 

As she made her way to the kitchen to drop off her empty leftover container, she saw the mail sitting in a pile on the island; the first on the pile immediately snagging her attention.

The name Dr. Sofia Lamb on the return address caused a thrilled gasp to erupt from her and she was quick to grab for it and open it. And the news within it was equally as exciting as she skimmed the first bit with Lamb giving a few dates she had open for a second appointment, one of which being as early as next week. Jane was frantic to get to the phone in the foyer, taking no time to dial the number at the bottom of the letter. If getting the first appointment was hard enough, the headaches she suffered trying to even get through to Lamb’s office to set something up, she didn’t want to waste any time at all for this second one. 

And just as Fontaine came walking down the stairs, Jane was ever the more pleased to confirm the date with Lamb’s assistant before hanging up, writing everything down on the back of the letter before she turned and almost bumped into the man. 

“Oh!” She stopped herself, heart pounding once she realized she was a mere inch from walking into him. 

“Who was that?” He crossed his arms then with a brow arched. “Lamb again?” 

“Again?” 

A huff, “She called earlier today, well her assistant did. Told her you were out.” 

“Oh, yes!” Jane folded the paper in her grasp a few times. “That was her, I just booked my second appointment for next Thursday. I’ll need to leave the labs early again, but I can talk that over with HR.” She gave him a quick smile for reassurance and moved to step slowly around him. 

“Thank you as well for taking care of the laundry, I’ll be right down to start dinner.” She called, already a few steps up as she made a bee-line to the living area. 

Fontaine couldn’t help the slight grin then, glad to see her a little more upbeat than this morning, but wondering how long that would last going into the evening. Even wondering if he should make the next spontaneous decision to be sitting on his mind the entire day. 

He’ll see how she is after dinner. 

~

It was only after she had stepped from the hot shower and into her only silk nightgown she felt almost every muscle in her body relax. Combined with the fleece of her robe, the sigh to fog up the mirror along with the shower’s steam could only further her inner dialog. 

She needed this. 

Along with dinner, which she ended up eating a good bit of once getting a bothered side-glance from Fontaine at one point, she hoped this shower, in particular, would at least promise a decent night’s sleep. Using her favorite bar of soap, a floral scent Fontaine’s managed to smuggle in from Italy and taking the time to wash and rinse her hair, she practically felt her body melt from all the tension that’s been accumulating. Guess she’d find out later if all of this would work, or if it was all a rouse and the same spot in her lower back would wake her with the sharpest of pains at 3 in the morning - again. 

At this point, maybe she just needed a day at the Adonis Resort. 

Trying to stomp out all thoughts that weren’t relaxing her at the moment, she also stuck to her nightly face routine. Along with pulling out her favorite vanilla lotion and lathering it everywhere, she could reach, and taking the time to brush every and all knots from her hair after toweling most of it dry. Once satisfied, she gathered her towels to place in the bathroom’s laundry basket, putting away all products under the sink so it would look like she was never there. While she did technically live here now, it still felt weird to keep all her stuff out for her daily routines, never mind while she shared the space now with Fontaine and Jack. 

Speaking of which, as the bathroom door slid open, she jumped slightly to see Fontaine standing on the other side with arms crossed and a brow quirked in curiosity. 

“Fontaine, sir - I’m sorry, I -”

He held up a hand to stop her then, that same hand moved to prop himself against the door’s frame. 

“Took a pretty long time in there.” His chin tilted up to reference the shower just behind her. 

Jane felt her face flush, her own hands lifting to mess with the front of her robe, using it to cover more of her chest and nightgown. 

“I-I’m sorry. I was just hoping a hot shower would help me sleep tonight.” 

His head tilted slightly to the side, “You haven’t been gettin’ enough of that lately, have you?” 

“What - sleep?” A hand instinctively reached to brush aside a strand of her bangs, “I mean, I’m fine. I’ve been getting sleep just -” 

“Not a lot of it.” He finished for her and she couldn’t help to hang her head a bit in shame. 

He let her stand there for a second, watching her sink in on herself a bit, and clicked his tongue before moving to take both her hands from the front of her robe. She lifted her head to give him her own curious and confused glance as he guided them toward the fireplace. With flames already licking at the wood piled beneath it, she couldn’t help but stare until his form took its place in front of her.

Curiousness turned to utter surprise as he took her hands, gently intertwining her fingers with his own rough and calloused hands and pulled her closer to him. He had a good few inches on her, the top of her head lining up with his nose, and she couldn’t find herself looking up at him right away. Instead, she took to observing his hands locked with her own, the feeling of a familiar rock sitting heavy in her gut. The tint along her cheeks felt like it was burning hotter than the fire. Even with her head tilted downward, he could still make out the flustered pink to flush her cheeks. 

“Mr. Fontaine, what - what are you doing?” 

“Frank.” 

Jane looked up at him then, the heat flaring along her face as her brows narrowed in question.  

“Call me Frank when you’re here, no reason t’be formal or anythin’.” 

“Right,” She nibbled on her bottom lip briefly, hesitating for a couple of seconds. “Frank.” 

The smirk would have pissed her off if they had been in any other situation. 

His shoulders shook a bit with a scoff, voice low and tender. “How come you have a hard time sayin’ my name?” 

She felt the words tumble from her lips before she could stop herself. “Because I knew a Frank on the surface.” 

“Ah -” A huff, “and what, you two were datin’?” 

Jane could only shrug at that. “I’m not sure what we were but, I cared about him - a lot. And I can only assume he cared about me all the same.” 

The silence then could be sliced with a butter knife, and she couldn’t find herself to look at him after a confession like that. She was more afraid of seeing her Frank in the blue of his own eyes, coming face to face with a heartless tycoon rather than the warmth of a friend, a lost lover. However, even as he whispered her name and squeezed her palms within his own, she could only lift her attention as far up as the collar of his shirt in response. 

“Sleep with me t’night.” 

Her heart felt as if it dropped to her stomach, butterflies turning to huge moths fluttering too hard and too fast. “Pardon?”

A smile, soft, one that both comforted and unsettled her knowing who it was coming from. 

“Sleep with me t’night, Jane, instead of on that damn cot.” He leaned his head down a bit, close to resting it against her forehead with his voice still low and - changing a bit. “On a real mattress, you need it.” 

She did need it, side-eyeing the mattress just to her left and how it was ten times more alluring than her cot or the couch in the other room. Worrying her bottom lip, Jane couldn’t suppress the conflicted whine that she hoped Fontaine didn’t hear bubble from her throat. 

“And that’s - ok with you?” 

A shrug, as nonchalant as he could make it before he started moving backward, pulling her along with him until they were closer to the end of the bed. 

“I’m offerin’, ain’t I? No one's gotta know.” 

He wasn’t wrong. As far as she knew, little was known around Rapture about Fontaine’s private life. Hell, she would have never known he had Jack here if she didn’t remember him leaving with the boy from the labs. 

His fingers untangled themselves from her own, finding that hers seemed to still be stretching out for his hands again. He went to work on untying the belt of her robe, and she let him - figuring it was better he take the reigns rather than let her debate with herself during the next hour on if this was ok. Yet, sleep was starting to claw at her almost desperately. Eyes taking on about 20 tons each with the realization that sleep could be so easily attainable tonight. And, he was still so gentle, both astonishing and soothing as he moved to slide the article from her shoulders and drape the robe along the loveseat at the end of the bed. 

He took her shoulders then, leaning in to whisper, “I’ll even let you choose which side you wanna sleep on.” before turning her slowly. 

This was an easier decision, and she immediately started walking to the right of the bed - the side that had the window closest to it overlooking the city and ocean. Hesitantly, she pulled the comforter and sheets back, sliding under them with ease, and immediately felt her body melt. The mattress was even better than the one she had at her apartment, plush like a marshmallow, and warm. As soon as her head settled onto the pillow, she had to use all the willpower she had left to turn and acknowledge Frank as he crawled into the bed beside her.

“See? Better already, isn’t it?” 

Her eyes were already fighting to stay open as she hummed, “It is - thank you.” 

His response was a puff of breath along the back of her neck, warm and intoxicating as he muttered, “Of course.” 

Lifting both hands to settle under and on the pillow under her, she didn’t even complain or jolt as she felt an arm slide over her right side and hook around her waist, pulling her closer to him ever so slowly. 

“Is this ok?” She felt the heat of his breath along the back of her ear and she couldn’t stop the nod in response if she tried. 

It felt - safe. Familiar. 

Every last shred of consciousness was yelling at her, trying to convince her this wasn’t right. She didn’t know this man and had only spent a month at his complex until now. And yet, sleep started to claim her then as she nuzzled into the pillow, smelling nothing but his cologne, and, as much as all of this should weird her out and how sudden it was, she still couldn’t stretch herself beyond the feeling of security at this moment. And sooner than later, the steadiness of the breathing behind her started to fall away as her eyes finally fluttered closed and everything went pleasantly dark. 

~*~

He wasn’t sure what time it was when he woke up. It was probably still early in the morning if the unsettling stillness of everything was anything to go by. Something was nagging at him in his dreams to put out the fire in the fireplace, these same thoughts carrying over as he sat up in bed to eye the embers and small flame still dancing around what remaining logs there were. A deep groan followed him as he lifted the sheets, bare feet meeting the cool wooden flooring as numerous pops and cracks plagued his body once standing. 

Damn. He’s never considered himself old, and honestly, he wasn’t. But the ache in his center back only reminded him of the countless times Jack’s teased him if he’d dropped something, the same spot popping as he’d bend to retrieve whatever it was. He swore that kid would knock something off the kitchen island on purpose just to hear Frank scowl. Fuckin’ brat.

Once he managed to find the fire poker in the darkness of the bedroom, the fire itself was easy enough to snuff out, luckily in his still half-asleep state. However, setting aside the metal rod and turning back to his bed, he nearly jumped out of his skin seeing another body curled up and dead asleep along his right pillow. His hands immediately lifted to rub at his eyes, seeing maybe he was just hallucinating, only to find he wasn’t when he lifted his head from his palms to see the person still there.

A few steps closer to the bed revealed it was Jane and he groaned. 

Fuck. 

Memory didn’t seem to be serving him this early in the morning, and he wracked his brain on how the hell she got here in the first place. However, as he watched her shift a bit on the bed still fast asleep, looking as relaxed and peaceful as he’d seen her the past few weeks; it all started slinking back to him. 

That’s right, he invited her to sleep here tonight. Noticing how off she’d been, those dark circles, overworking herself, and simple forgetfulness when it came to just eating meals - it all hit too close to how she was on the surface, at least when he was with her. 

He remembered how he would stand over her as Jane would be working at the desk in her bedroom of that humble apartment. He’d turn her chair once the clock would finally strike three in the morning, grabbing for her hands and pulling her away from all the responsibilities that plagued her. She’d fight him for a second, whining that she needed to finish just one more paragraph for a paper she was writing for class. But he’d stop her mid-sentence, tugging her with him as he’d stumble a few feet back onto the bed, herself falling forward on top of him. It would elicit a stream of giggles from her, his hands tickling her sides as he’d finally free her of her work uniform; her own fingers raking themselves through his hair and tugging to get him to stop. Jane would then drone at him again to let her change, and he’d reluctantly release his grip, but not without watching in admiration of her silhouette in the pale moonlight that just barely reached between her window’s blinds. 

Something in his chest clenched uncomfortably, his hand reaching up to grab at the front of his shirt with attention still on her and the steady rise and fall of the comforter. He exhaled an unsteady breath, hand releasing from his shirt to lift and smooth over the top of his head. The stubble scratching at the palm of his hand enticed a groan, he needed to shave again soon. 

But, above everything, it was honestly good to see her sleeping now, not even disturbed at all by him getting up. He wondered if this was a better alternative than her sleeping on that stupid cot, just letting her sleep in his bed from here on out if she was okay with it, and not as hesitant with the offer the second time around.  

If she’d even say yes. He honestly thought she’d tear herself away from him the moment he took her hands, leading her away from the bathroom. Not knowing how much she’d trust him, or rather fear him. 

Maybe, just maybe she knew something about him. Found something familiar enough to give a reason as to why she was eventually ok with him coaxing her into his bed, a reason as to why she let him pull her close when they both fell asleep. 

Or maybe she was just that fucking tired.

Scoffing to himself, he slid both hands into the pockets of his flannel pants and strolled over toward the floor-to-ceiling window adjacent to the bed. It wasn’t light on the surface, but he could tell the moon was out with the columns of light painting the water constantly shifting and swirling between Rapture’s skyscrapers. The few neon signs labeling the businesses outside his complex pulsed and melted through the glass of the window, creating shallow puddles on the floor in a mess of color. It was hypnotizing, the steady and consistent sound of bubbles rising and gurgling from somewhere with the slow shifting of the ocean debris mesmerizing to the eye. A couple of sea stars had stuck themselves to one of the low corners of the window, and he stuck out his toe to tap against the glass to get them to move. However, with how thick and durable the glass was, he’d be surprised if they even felt any sort of vibration. 

A sudden yawn broke his concentration on the sea stars, and he turned back to the bed, seeing Jane’s peaceful and tranquil facade bathed in the glow of the ocean beyond. It enticed a genuine smile, the brief thought etching itself into his mind - home, it felt like he was looking at a piece of home.

He never had one on the surface, but Jane came pretty damn close on a few occasions. 

Pacing back to the bed, he rounded the space to settle back in on the opposite side. He stayed there for a second, propped on his left elbow as he watched the slow and steady rise of her back and side facing him. The one thin strap of her nightgown sat skewed on her right shoulder, and he lifted a steady hand to fix it. The movement in itself was not enough to wake her, but the lingering touch on her skin caused her to shift and he couldn’t help but hush her. Laying back down on his left side, he slid his arm back over her waist, with the nightgown’s silk fabric cool to the touch compared to her warmth. Frank pulled her back against his front, nose buried in the softness of her hair, and inhaled the vanilla scent of her shampoo. 

She always smelled like vanilla, the scent mixing with the sea salt of the ocean when he’d take her out on the pier some nights. Stealing kisses like tomorrow would never come. 

He closed his eyes at the thought, memories surfacing of that pier and the waves crashing against the wooden posts that anchored them deep to the ocean floor. Even in the dead of night, that one lamp post at the end of the pier would transport them to their own world. The same lamp post he watched get swallowed up in the darkness as he set out on that fishing boat to Rapture. 

It was bittersweet then, just as this moment was now with the one woman he ever actually cared for asleep in his bed, contoured and molded along his front like she was made to be there. As he hoped this moment to be one of many, something deep down in his subconscious knew that this city would do anything to tear them apart once any minuscule detail of their past were to surface. 

All he could do was sigh into her hair, willing sleep to take him so all those thoughts would subside. 

For now. 

~*~

Her eyes opened slowly to the window just across the room from her. The sea-green glow of the ocean and the light from the surface creating a shimmering glass effect against the buildings in the background. A school of fish swam by then, their scales reflecting the light as well and she felt herself melt into the pillow and mattress under her. The silence and peace at the moment encouraged her eyes to slide shut again and relish in the warmth and calm. 

Wait - mattress? 

She bolted up from the bed, pulling at the sheet and comforter to cover herself as she scanned the room. Fontaine’s bedroom, she’d almost completely forgotten she had fallen asleep in his bed last night - that he had offered her his bed to sleep in. And yet, he was nowhere to be found with the space empty next to her. 

Jane wondered if she could get up and grab her robe quick enough, she’d be out of his space before he’d come back. Slipping from the blankets, she toed over towards her robe still left on the loveseat at the end of the bed. Before she could slip it on, however, the bathroom door shuttered open and Fontaine stepped through with a few towels in hand. 

“She’s finally awake.” 

The smile was forced as she rushed to put the robe back on. “I-I’m sorry, Frank. Thank you for letting me sleep here tonight, but I won’t take up your space here any longer.” 

Just as she turned to walk away, her name echoed back, stopping her in her tracks. 

“You’re not takin’ up space here.” 

She turned to face him as he walked from the bathroom, setting the towels on the end of the bed. “An’ if you think you’re just gonna go back to sleepin’ in that cot, you’d be wrong ‘bout that too.” 

“Frank, I-I -” 

“You’re stayin’ here, aren’tchya? Payin’ me, watchin’ Jack, cleanin’ up ‘round the place?” 

She nodded, toying with the band of her robe. 

“Then, sleep here. Get rid of that cot an’ sleep here instead.” 

He had to be messing with her. “Frank, I can’t.” 

“Why not?” He interjected, lowering to prop himself on the arm of the loveseat. 

“Because, isn’t it already suspicious that I’m here? No less sleeping in your bed?” 

That ice-cold smirk, and she felt a chill from it line her arms. “Who the hell do you think knows ‘bout what happens here?” 

Honestly, no one. And her silence must have answered his question. 

“Jane,” She looked up to him then from where she had been tracing patterns in the tiled floor. Once she made eye contact with that steel-colored gaze, the small smile lifting his lips was almost unbelievable. “I keep my private life outta the Tribune for a reason. An’ I’m offerin’, ain’t I?” 

A nod. He wasn’t wrong. She could say no if she wanted. But he was offering her his space, a more comfortable place to sleep. Who was she to say no? 

“I guess…that’s fine. If you’re offering.” 

The smile was quick, if she blinked she would have missed it. He patted the towels then, standing up from the loveseat arm and groaning as he stretched his arms. 

“It’s settled then. I gotta get Jack his meds, but these are for you.” 

He nodded down towards the towels and moved to step around her towards the bedroom door. As he got to the frosted tile wall separating the bed from the door, he turned back to her. 

He pointed towards the closet and another dresser. “There’s a spare dresser I’ve got, you can use that an’ any extra space in the closet for your things in the livin’ area.”  

And before she could protest with him on anything, he held up a hand to her with a smirk and continued towards the door, leaving her there to fiddle with the fabric of her robe. 

Damn him. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

She hated to admit it, but it’s been quite some time since she’s walked into the labs with her spine tall, and head not pounding from only getting three to four hours of sleep. It was a tad later than when she was used to arriving at the Futuristics, taking to riding with Fontaine in his bathysphere instead of scrambling to make it to the Express. She figured he’d forgive her though since he didn’t even wake her that morning, not even when it was two hours past when her alarm usually goes off. 

The slightest smile quirked her lip as she unlocked the door to her lab realizing that yeah - he didn’t even wake her the later it got. He probably would have let her sleep the entire day if she needed it. And while the whole ordeal from last night was still buzzing around in her mind, making her question everything, she couldn’t help but feel the pink burning her cheeks at his consideration. 

Her train of thought immediately derailed once she saw the sample dishes awaiting with an ominous blood-red glow emanating from them. Tossing her things on her desk and struggling to shrug on her lab coat, the excitement started bubbling from her chest, almost forgetting gloves for a second. Grabbing for her clipboard, she didn’t hesitate to grab for the dish that appeared to have the most red patching on the bottom. The seaweed, of course, the few plant cells she had scrapped the day before appeared to have multiplied into a larger blob and Jane took no time to get it under a microscope. 

It was amazing, not only had the ADAM done what she was hoping it would do in duplicating the plant cells, but it was still actively duplicating. Watching the cells divide from one another, from a fully mature seaweed sample, stole her breath for a second. She lifted her head from the microscope lens then to take some quick notes with the largest grin. 

Jane quickly started swapping out the sample dishes, scrapping smaller samples onto plates to view, only to find the seaweed wasn’t the only plant cells duplicating. They all were growing in number, from the flower petals to the grass from the surface and kelp. But, it was rather obvious that the plant cells native to the ocean had divided themselves the most, and were still rapidly duplicating - like they were trying to grow a whole new plant.

“Brigid!” Jane called, hearing her excitement echo around her. “Brigid!” She called again, jogging away from the microscope to the other scientist’s lab next door. 

She must have heard her though, and as soon as Jane opened the door to her lab, Brigid was standing on the other side with her hand raised like she was about to knock. 

“Brigid, you have to see this!” Jane grabbed for her wrist, pulling her in before the other scientist could even utter a word. 

Jane tugged her to the microscope, “I honestly didn’t think much of anything would happen, but look!” She gave some room for Brigid to take a look, and after a few seconds, relished in the huff of disbelief to puff under her breath. 

“And that’s just the seaweed sample!” Jane couldn’t help the chuckle in excitement. “I looked at a few other samples, the plants native to the ocean - Brigid - “ She had to calm herself for a second, “They’re still duplicating! Even with the small amount of ADAM we gave them last night. Imagine what a larger dose could do?” 

Tenenbaum pulled away from the microscope with her incredulous smile and a shake of her head. “This is rather unbelievable. I - I did not imagine the ADAM would take effect so quickly, or at all. The damage you must have done with scrapping the mature samples prompted the ADAM to repair those cells…and double them.” 

Jane grabbed for Brigid’s wrists, “We need to try a larger dose, with more mature cell samples.” She let her wrists go as quickly and paced over towards where she had the full sample stored, pulling out the bag with a larger piece of seaweed. “Or try going straight to this - “ She turned around with the bag as Brigid was already pulling a pair of gloves on. 

“You better do it now if you want to use a full sample. The ADAM worked quickly with smaller swabs, it might take longer with this.” 

The nod was automatic as Jane also moved to grab a larger dish to place the seaweed sample in with Brigid grabbing for the ADAM vial she had used the previous day. And once they had everything set up, Jane grabbed her clipboard and waited for Brigid to add several drops of ADAM directly on top of the seaweed sample. Nothing happened, as expected, and Jane noted the time so she could keep track of how long it took for the plant cells to duplicate when she’d check again tomorrow. 

“Did you want to do this with all of the samples?” 

Jane turned back to the cabinet she had everything stored in and didn’t give it a second thought before turning back with a grin. They spent the next hour or so setting up more dishes and placing the samples with a few drops of ADAM in each. Knowing the seaweed to have such a positive reaction, Jane wanted to find out what would happen if a larger, damaged mature sample was fully submerged in the ADAM as well; wondering if that would affect the duplication rate at all and the actual amount of duplication to come from it. Would it grow a whole new plant? Could they grow their own seaweed without dirt, nutrients, sediment, or sunlight? Of course, she’d need more seaweed samples - taking no time to place an order with Brigid to check in with Dr. Langford. The more the merrier. 

It was close to lunch when they were close to finishing labeling each sample tray and taking notes on when the ADAM was added to each - hopefully coming back tomorrow with an idea on how quickly the sample’s cells duplicated. For now, along with feeling well-rested from actually getting a full night's sleep last night, she was ready for the leftovers that awaited her for lunch.

That excitement trickled to alert when she noticed the overhead lights tremble a little bit, and she lifted a weary gaze just as they started swaying again. 

Weird…

She kept her attention on the lights as another tremor caused them to jump and shake, this grabbing Brigid’s attention as well as she paused her movements. Jane lowered her clipboard and pen to the table with Brigid doing the same to the trays she had been labeling, sharing a curious glance. Another larger tremor rattled a few beakers sitting in the cabinets, and Jane had to steel herself against the table with hands gripping the edges. 

Jane’s tone wavered as she spoke up, “What’s happening?” She glanced at Brigid again, “An earthquake?” 

It wouldn’t be strange if it was, Rapture did sit not too far from a major fault line in the Atlantic…

That would have been her first guess if it wasn’t for the sudden commotion outside her lab’s door and the rumbling that had been shaking everything turning into very distinct footsteps. Both she and Brigid were quick to pace to the door, opening it to see a few other scientists rushing around in a panic and the clench in her chest was immediate, stomach dropping as a scream pierced the air. Brigid pushed past her then and made a beeline off to the right of their labs towards the live testing facility. 

“Brigid!” Jane moved to follow her, the confusion not wanting her to be alone, but the other scientist was quick to turn with a hand pointing towards the ground in front of her. 

“No! Stay right there.” And she was gone rushing past a few more scientists to come racing from the opposite end of the site. 

What the hell was happening? Was it an earthquake? 

The panic that started filling the air with a palpable tension caused her heartbeat to pound in her ears as she struggled to push past the frenzy of other employees. Completely ignoring Brigid’s request to stay, mob mentality wanted her to find out what was going on, and she reached a hand out toward a familiar face that was running in her direction. 

“Laura!” Jane called and tried to grab the other scientist’s lab coat, knowing the woman to work around the live testing facility, “Laura, what’s happening?” 

Once she reigned purchase on her coat, Laura turned with hair misplaced from her usual ponytail and relaxed features twisted in alarm. 

“A Big Daddy -” the woman took a shaky breath and pointed towards the testing facility, numerous people running past them and clipping their shoulders. “A - a Big Daddy got loose, had a bad reaction to the ADAM and bonding process - an Alpha series -” Laura grabbed for Jane’s hand like she wanted her to let go, to let her get away. “He started going on a rampage, Gil couldn’t contain him.” 

Those things were bonded to the Little Sisters, right? “What about the girl?” Jane side-stepped them over against a nearby wall to get away from the stampede of people rushing and yelling. “The Little Sister?” 

Laura twisted her head back once they heard the rumbling footsteps again, both of them pausing once more panicked yelling also originated from the same direction. 

“We - we don’t know if he’s trying to find her.” She turned with eyes wide. “We don’t know where she is .” 

And with that, Laura tore herself away with a million apologies as she dashed for the lab’s entrance where a lot of people were congregating, trying to get out. A terrifying groaning roar echoed then, loud enough for Jane to throw her palms over her ears to avoid them rupturing. Her eyes had clenched shut as she threw herself against the wall behind her, feeling the ground shake at the sheer force of this Big Daddy’s rampage. 

The sound of metal biting concrete penetrated the screams and her eyes opened with the immediate instinct to find the girl. From what she remembered Brigid telling her briefly about the Alpha series, is that they were dangerous, even more so than any other Big Daddy they had created down here. Heavily spliced and able to possess weaponry, some even without drills permanently attached to their bodies, she could only assume what this thing could get its hand on down here. And if Laura was right in that the bonding process failed, finding its Little Sister probably wouldn’t do much. 

But there was still a child loose with that thing - and if they didn’t know where she was…

Jane pulled herself from the wall then with a fierce instinct taking over, wasting no time to start weaving through the crowds of people either trying to leave or find anything to stop the Big Daddy. Eventually, she came out to the main lobby of the labs, trying to look into every corner where a child could be hiding. Her heart started pounding in her chest and anxiety only climbed with the awful groaning getting louder the closer she got to the entrance of the testing facility. 

And the entire time, she couldn’t stop thinking about Jack. Picturing this little girl to be around Jack’s age huddling and scared in a corner somewhere only pushed her through the lobby to the long narrow hallway before her. At this point, the crowds of people were clearing out, and she could get a better look at the hallway. Also, finding large chunks of the concrete wall to her right lying broken and crumbling on the tiled floor. She tip-toed around the debris, wishing she knew the name of the potential Little Sister so she could be calling out for her - if the little girl even remembered her name anymore. 

Finally reaching the testing facility, hands grabbed for the metal railing atop the mezzanine that looked down and out over the entrance. More debris riddled the floor below with consistent yelling coming from the right that led down another hallway. Another bellowing groan unsettled her then, but not until a quiet whimpering followed - thankfully that sounded a lot closer. 

Jane gasped when she finally saw the little girl huddled in the far left corner of the larger room, she had hidden herself within a small crevice of the wall, just small enough to squish her body among to hide. Jane called out a “Hey!” to the girl and saw her lift her head, but shrink back against the wall more as Jane started making her way down the stairs of the mezzanine. The low heel of her shoes clanked angrily against the metal and she jogged to the girl. However, the closer she got, another deafening groan pierced the air from the right entrance. 

Looking over her shoulder to the angry red glow emanating from the Big Daddy’s helmet was jarring in a way that sent chills down her spine, the threat of death if she dared touch that child hanging on a fraying rope over her. Something felt off though, like this Alpha series wasn’t trying to find her to protect her. If Laura was right in that the boding process had failed, then this Little Sister was just as much of a threat as Jane was standing there. 

The next slow step she took toward the girl was meant to go unnoticed, but the Big Daddy noticed her advancements almost immediately and let out a gurgled roar from its helmet that startled both her and the girl. As Jane paused her movements, she noticed that this Alpha series had managed to get his hands on a drill, letting out another bellowing cry as it smashed the drill into the wall next to it in a rage. 

It felt like she was moving through sludge as she watched the ceiling lights above them jump and clang angrily, the cords holding them up and snapping as they almost crumbled in on themselves. 

A light just above them rattled, its cords snapping as well and light bulbs immediately popping and going out as it dropped down towards them. Jane felt the yelp tear from her throat as she reached for the girl, grabbing the sleeve of her dress, and yanking her away. Not a moment later, the light came crashing down just inches from where the girl had been, and with the girl encased in her arms, the Big Daddy started charging. 

Jane had fallen to her knees, the cold and hard tiled floor unforgiving under her as she huddled herself around the girl. The horrifying screeching of the creature and whirring of the drill had her shaking uncontrollably, but still an unwavering wall around the girl who clutched at her lab coat with her own distorted and scared cries just barely heard. 

The rush of movement tensed her body as the Big Daddy was just inches from her. The sudden burst of wind from his incredibly fast movement caused her grip on the girl to tighten, expecting the pointed edge of the drill to pierce her skin at any moment.  

That was until an ear-shattering, “STOP!” caused her to jolt. Then the air was quiet and still. 

Her lungs tried to gulp down as much air as she could, breath and chest shaking as she hesitated to look up from where she had huddled herself in on the girl. The tension slowly started to slip from her shoulders when the blood-red glowing from the diving helmet shone green - so bright and almost blinding. 

The voice shouted again from behind the Big Daddy.

“Return to your cell now, Alpha.” Loud and commanding as the creature rose from its position, the drill had stopped running just over her head, and slowly turned to start walking back. 

Gil Alexander stood behind with a plasmid ball sputtering and dripping from his palm, watching the Big Daddy intently as he shuffled to the side for the creature to walk past him. Behind Gil were Brigid, Suchong, and a couple of other scientists. Brigid, however, was the first person she made eye contact with and saw her gasp. 

Just as Brigid started jogging towards her, Jane started pulling herself away from the girl, little hands still fisting her lab coat and trembling horribly. However, Jane was not expecting to come face to face with the girl’s eerie glowing eyes, becoming startled by her appearance and accidentally pushing the girl back into Brigid. 

“Jane - oh, meine Güte - are you alright?” 

Luckily the girl was probably more familiar with Brigid and immediately found solace in the scientist’s arms as she knelt to Jane’s level. 

Jane noticed then the pain in her knees and slight cuts on the hand and wrist that grabbed for the girl as the light hit the ground and shattered just inches from her. “I - I’m fine. I’m alright.” 

Brigid noticed the blood as well, standing with the girl and reaching down to help Jane up. She felt her knees buckle almost instantly, but found her footing quickly to steady herself. 

“We will get you cleaned up,” Brigid muttered, prompting the girl to hold onto her opposite hand as they started moving towards a small office at the entrance of the testing facility. 

The small “thank you” in response was huffed under her breath, knowing Brigid was also probably going to chew her out for not staying where she had asked her to. The small smile at the thought was quickly wiped from her lips as she glanced up to the right on the mezzanine, heart dropping to her stomach once she saw Fontaine at the top looking down towards them. 

It was subtle, and a little staggering to see - fear. A mix of fear and anger shadowed his features with knuckles blanching and gripping the railing tight as if he had just seen everything and was ready to bolt if Gil was just a tad too late. Jane ducked her head immediately, focusing on the ache in her knees and blood trailing from the cuts on her hand. 

She’ll have to deal with that later. After the rapid thumping in her chest finally calms. 

~*~

“Ich kann dir nicht glauben - what the hell were you thinking, Jane?” Brigid huffed as she started cleaning the cuts on her hand and wrist. 

Nothing seemed too deep, thankfully, but the alcohol she was using still stung something fierce as she dabbed at the small wounds. 

“I told you to stay at the lab.” 

“Brigid - “ Jane hissed with the alcohol getting into a deeper cut along the back of her wrist. “I couldn’t help it. I heard about the Little Sister and how no one could find her.” 

She looked up at Jane from under her lashes, eyes narrowed and serious. “We would have found her after taking care of the Big Daddy.” 

“If you had gotten to him first.” 

Brigid shook her head, mumbling in German under her breath, her tone rather obvious that it wasn’t anything particularly nice. And it’s not like she didn’t feel bad for not listening to Brigid or putting herself in the situation she did. She felt horrible seeing the other woman’s face, shock and relief to see her and the girl okay and safe, knowing neither would have been in the situation they had been if Jane hadn’t provoked the Big Daddy as she did. Something just didn’t feel right, and she had to do something. Little Sister or not, she was still just a girl in trouble. 

After most of the blood was cleaned off her hand and wrist, Brigid moved to start bandaging everything, figuring wrapping her hand in gauze would ensure she’d cover every cut large and small. And just as she was finishing putting bandaids on the smaller cuts, quick and heavy footsteps were echoing behind them with a voice following, rather upset and pissed off. 

“What the hell was that?!” 

Jane ducked in on herself at the voice, Fontaine, and she wasn’t sure if he was upset with her until Gil spoke up from behind Brigid. The man had been washing his own hands and tending to a burn that the plasmid had left behind. 

“A mishap.” Gil turned then with a towel as he dried his hands, calm and rather collected. “A failed bonding process.” 

She didn’t need to turn and see the look of infuriation on the tycoon’s face, Brigid carrying on with wrapping her hand as if nothing was happening. 

“ I got that, but why the hell did it happen?” She could tell he was holding something back, and failing. 

Gil shrugged, nonchalant. “It appeared that the man had a bad reaction to the ADAM. The men we’re stuffing into these suites are criminals, more or less, but they’re not all tolerant of the process.” He tossed the towel back to the sink and went to close the bottle to the plasmid he had used earlier. “It seems as if the ADAM accelerated the splicing that usually happens with its use - causing him to do quite the opposite the bonding process is meant to do.”

“He wanted to attack the Little Sister that was meant to be bonded with him,” Brigid spoke up, eyes raising to narrow towards Fontaine the split second of attention she gave him. “Going mad, to put it simply. This has happened before, you know this.” 

Jane felt her eyes bug when she mentioned that this wasn’t the first occurrence, and yet Fontaine came storming in wanting to chew off someone’s head as if it was the first. 

“I know it ain’t the first, but this bastard caused a helluva lotta damage that I gotta pay for, an’ almost cost a few lives.” She heard the growl rumble under his words. “An’ I ain’t about to explain a few employee deaths to the Tribune. Got that?” 

Brigid lifted her gaze to him again in a half-assed acknowledgement with Gil giving a wave as he stored the plasmid bottle in a nearby cabinet. The footsteps receded behind her then, no less with a trail of fire and vexation following in his wake, and Brigid rolled her eyes with the slightest smile appearing. 

As she finished and tacked off the end of the bandage, Jane flexed her fingers to make sure she could still move everything in the bandage and found Brigid did a pretty decent job. 

“There, you should be ok to take that off within a few days to see how the cuts are doing. It should not take long for them to heal.” 

“Thank you, Brigid.” Jane gave her a genuine smile and stood from the stool she had been perched on. 

The other woman returned the smile before turning around to assess the girl that had been behind them, quiet and reserved, patiently waiting until after Brigid was done with Jane. 

“Go ahead back to the lab without me. I believe there were a few more trays that needed to be labeled still.” She looked back to Jane. “Plus, I’m sure someone will be waiting for you.” 

She hoped the flush to her cheeks wasn’t as obvious as it felt, and she ducked her head to fiddle where the bandage had wrapped a little too tight near her thumb. Honestly, she wished Fontaine wasn’t waiting for her back at her lab, for whatever reason. 

Jane was rather quick to leave the office they were in, weaving her way back out of the testing facility and around any debris that remained on the floors. The lobby of the labs was milling now with uncertainty hanging in the air around them, people trying to clean up, helping others who may have been injured, and checking all equipment sitting around to make sure nothing was damaged. Jane also gave a wave to Laura who sat on a nearby staircase helping to clean a small wound on someone’s leg, a reassurance that she was alright and the ordeal was over. 

And luckily, when she did make it back to her lab, Fontaine wasn’t there waiting for her. It also appeared that this side of the labs wasn’t affected by the Big Daddy’s rampage. A few fallen pieces of decor and informational posters from the walls and jostled items from filing cabinets littering the area from people probably bumping into them. Her lab looked untouched by it all, and the relief was instant as she walked in to see nothing was impacted by the event either. 

Jane closed the door behind her with a deep sigh, leaning up against it as she looked with now weary eyes over to the samples. Brigid mentioned that some of them still had to be labeled, and she eventually found the strength to prop herself from the door to pace to the table they sat on. And yet, even as she stood there with pen in hand to label the remaining samples, she couldn’t stop thinking about what just happened. 

What was the plasmid Gil had used? It looked like something that was able to control the Big Daddy, but something that was still in its beginner stages with the nasty burn it left on his hand. What had happened for the Alpha series to have a horrible reaction to the ADAM and bonding process? Why did it switch its motives to attack the Little Sister? 

All questions flooded her thoughts as she finished labeling all the samples, returning the seaweed sample she had been studying into its tray as well. The knock on her door startled her just slightly then, but assumed it might be Brigid and she called for them to come in. 

As she turned, however, she almost dropped the tray of seaweed once she saw Fontaine walking in and shutting the door behind him with an expression that was unreadable and a bit unsettling. 

Jane set the tray down immediately, honestly not thinking Brigid would be right in that he’d come to see her at some point. And yet, even the fear to subtly etch his face back in the testing facility was something that haunted her, almost just as much as the Big Daddy’s wailing groan. 

He strolled up to her then, hands resting in his pockets as he dragged his gaze over the table of samples with a slight intrigue before those ocean-gray eyes lifted to meet her own. 

“Are you ok?” 

The softness in his voice and unfeigned tone behind the question was more surprising than him standing in her lab right now, and she gave a quick nod in response. 

“I’m alright. My hand got cut up from a light that fell but otherwise, I’m fine. Brigid patched me up pretty good.” 

She watched him round the table to stand in front of her, a hand lifting from his pocket as he reached it out to her with his palm up. Not sure what he was asking for right away but she placed her bandaged hand hesitantly into his own. Fingers wrapped around her hand like they did the previous night, gentle and assured as he turned her hand to check out the bandaging. 

“Guess Tenenbaum didn’t do too bad of a job.” 

The flush had to have been obvious on her face then, fire feeling as if it was simmering beneath her skin when he didn’t let go of her hand right away. Those steel eyes glanced back up towards her again from under his brows, and she swore she saw a ghost of a smirk lift his lips before releasing his grip. And yet, just like she had done last night, her fingers just barely brushed his own in a silent plea as his hand returned to slip into his pocket. 

“Tell me later if you’re not ok, yeah?” 

Understanding immediately, she knew he wasn’t referring to her hand, and gave a confident nod. 

That smile again, but softer. “Good.” He turned then to leave the lab, but not before stopping at the door and pausing her from continuing with her cleanup. “I’ll come getcha when the bathysphere’s here.” 

“Ok.” She muttered, wondering if he even heard her, and cursed under her breath at how small she had sounded then. 

It was just her luck he saw her head nod at the same time, all the confirmation he needed, and left immediately after. Leaving her there in the space wondering, again, what the hell just happened. 

~*~

It was late when Fontaine finally came back to get her. She had been taking more notes on what was actively happening with the ADAM and plant sample when the knock on her door caught her attention. He stood in the doorway with his suit jacket off and hanging around one arm and gave her a quirk of his brow as she stumbled around grabbing for her belongings. When they were walking through the labs back to the bathysphere station, she realized then how quiet it was, checking her watch to see that it was almost 8 already. 

“Sorry, I didn’t come sooner. Was in meetings all day ‘bout the little mishap that happened.” 

“It’s ok.” She shrugged. “It gave me more time with my samples.” 

As they entered the main building of the Futursitics from the labs, Fontaine was quick to ask, “Yeah, what are you doin’ with all that ADAM I saw in those little things - dishes?” 

Jane registered then that she probably shouldn’t have mentioned the samples, especially if she wanted to wait and see if the whole experiment was going to be successful enough to tell Fontaine about her plan. 

Oh well, better now than later she supposed, so nothing would be a surprise when she’d ask for any future funding. 

“I’m actually using small doses of ADAM to see how well it can duplicate mature sample cells. We know it can heal damaged cells, hell even resurrect them, but I don’t think anyone’s tried to duplicate cells -” 

He was quiet next to her, his next question asked with a tad of hesitation. “And - what are you duplicatin’ cells for?” 

“To see if it’s possible to potentially grow and harvest - in a less invasive nature - organic matter in Rapture to use for energy production or even just general resource production - like materials to replace things we use on the daily in the city.” 

She looked over to find him staring ahead with brows knit, surely trying to understand what she was talking about and she chuckled a bit. 

“I plan to see if we can use this organic matter, seaweed, for things like to power the city’s electricity, use for resources instead of say plastic and so on.” 

The hum was quizzical. “Can’t we just…grow the seaweed ourselves here? Or get it from out in the ocean?” 

“We can. But, what the ADAM has proven in just a night is that it duplicates the mature seaweed cells, in particular, much faster than what it would take to grow it naturally.” 

She might as well go all in and strike a nerve. “Plus, it’s not as invasive of a method as say going out and harvesting it from the ocean, like Ryan is doing with the magma from the ocean floor. It’s a more - environmentally friendly method. People like knowing their living habits are sustainable, and good for the area in which they live, but still convenient. Tell them they’re helping to keep Rapture “ocean-friendly” and they’ll eat anything up that makes them feel like they’re doing their part.” 

“Well lookachu,” They stopped at the entrance to the bathysphere station with Fontaine’s bathysphere already docked, another brow raised towards her but rather in surprise. “Little Miss Marketing over here. If I knew you’d be good at sellin’ shit, I’d have hired you for that - the eggheads sitting on the board have been pissin’ me off lately.” 

The grin was genuine, painting her facade, and she ducked into the bathysphere as he gestured her to board before him. He followed in after her and started up the sub as she took her usual place along the right bench overlooking a porthole. The bathysphere shuttered to a start and descended then into the waters below. Fontaine remained standing at the sub’s lever as he input the coordinates back to Olympus Heights, talking as each button chirped at his actions. 

“It all sounds pretty promisin’ though. I wouldn’t object to any opportunity to one-up Ryan, especially if it means bestin’ ‘im at his own game.” 

She figured he wouldn’t. 

“I guess that also means you’ll need some sort of fundin’ for all of this.” He turned back to her with a quick smirk and she shrugged. 

“Not right away. I mean, I have to make sure this whole thing works first.” It took a second before she realized that he was potentially offering to fund her whole experiment, and she was quick to change her tone.“I guess - if you’d want to as well. I know there’s probably a lot of planning to go into this idea and consideration.” 

Her jaw clicked shut when she saw he had turned back to her but with a look of subtle reverence that was enough to build a welt in her throat. 

“We’ll see how things go.” 

The rest of the ride back was quiet, save for a few questions on his end about the experiment she was conducting - probably trying to figure out if this would be worth investing in down the road. 

And while she was grateful for his general interest in this project, she couldn’t quite shake the weird look he was giving her as he listened. Well, weird coming from Fontaine since the only other time she saw a man look at her with such - interest while she talked about her degree or passion for certain marine species - was her Frank from the surface. 

He’d be sipping on his second glass of whiskey with his chin resting in his palm as he’d watch her with gaze lazy and relaxed as she’d clean glasses and make drinks; talking about how another shark species had just been discovered or how she saw some sand-dwellers while walking the shore the other day after a shift. 

She did everything she could to ignore the itch scratching at her memory until they docked back in Mercury Suites, arriving to another quiet lobby with Reggie also there to greet them once they made it up to the complex’s foyer. 

“Look who finally made it.” 

Fontaine scoffed as Jane parted ways to the kitchen to the usual mail pile waiting on the island countertop. Sifting through them, she didn’t see anything for her, assuming maybe Lamb would have sent something to prepare her for her next appointment. Returning to the foyer, she dropped her purse off at its usual location and caught the tail end of the conversation Reggie and Fontaine were having, no less about the Big Daddy debacle that happened earlier in the day. However, when they both trailed off and the air was silent, Jane chirped up from behind both of them. 

“Reggie, did Jack get some dinner?” 

The man turned with a soft smile. “He did, I just gave him some leftovers and his medication. The kid was really tired, so he’s in bed already.” 

Jane nodded and took the opportunity to slip away up to Jack’s room to say goodnight and let him know they were back. That and she was also starting to formulate what she wanted to include in the letter Lamb tasked her with writing, putting it off - or rather avoiding it - and thinking about those uncertain years that haunted her on the surface. The incident at the labs today, though, triggered something emotional she wanted to explore a bit. 

However, as she slowly opened the door to Jack’s bedroom, seeing him fast asleep caused something sickly to churn her stomach. 

That entire time, she couldn’t stop thinking about Jack - picturing that little girl to be around Jack’s age huddled and scared somewhere in a corner of the lab. Pushing her further past the debris in the hall and straight to the source of the horrible and guttural cries of that Big Daddy.

At some point, Jack had been down there in that lab, just down the hall from those… monsters who apparently could turn on a dime if the ADAM they were spliced to the high heavens with didn’t respond correctly. 

The thought alone sent a chill up her spine and she toed into the bedroom to place a gentle kiss on the boy’s forehead, whispering that she and Fontaine were back, saying goodnight as well as she pulled the quilt on the bed up closer to his chin. The boy hadn’t moved a muscle, but his heavy breathing told her enough, he was fast asleep and hopefully dreaming wondrous dreams. 

She left the room then, closing his door until it was just slightly cracked, and headed straight for the bedroom to change quickly - although not quite used to going there instead of the living area. She couldn’t complain, it had a sort of normalcy to it she felt she could at least adjust to in no time. Instead of staying in the bedroom after changing into a pair of pajama pants and a matching shirt, she grabbed for the journal Lamb had given her and paced immediately to the living area. A million thoughts were racing through her head at this point on what to include in the letter, and she didn’t want to waste any time getting it all onto paper. 

He had watched her practically race up the stairs to Jack’s bedroom after Reggie mentioned he was in bed already, but he never heard her come back down. He had also checked the bedroom but didn’t see her there either, knowing there was only one place left she could be. And yet, he also knew she didn’t come back down to grab anything to eat for dinner, something was nagging at him that the whole ordeal at the labs kept her from eating the lunch she had brought with her - if the same leftover container in the fridge was anything to go by. Fontaine swore under his breath with a dramatic eye roll to accompany it, reaching for the same leftover container to heat it. 

Changing into his usual clothes for bed, a pair of flannel pants and a plain white cotton undershirt, he returned to the kitchen to remove the leftovers from the oven, the pesto from the pasta dish wafting throughout the room and making his mouth water at just the smell alone. He plated a moderate portion of it into a bowl and stole a couple of forkfuls for himself, humming in satisfaction. 

Damn, he honestly really missed her cooking. 

Grabbing for a fork as well, he took to the stairs and went straight for the living area. Opening the door, however, he was greeted with a sight he wasn’t quite expecting. Sitting curled up on one of the armchairs, Jane had a journal she appeared to be writing in, her head popping up once she heard him enter. He paused for a second as she gave him a curious glance, talking the few steps from the door to the adjacent armchair to place the plate on the end table between them.

“What’s this?” 

Fontaine huffed, “Dinner. An’ I’m gonna stay here until you finish the entire bowl.” 

He watched the smile appear and disappear just as quickly as she set aside the journal, taking the bowl and a couple of bites before uttering a soft, “Thank you”. 

“Of course. You want some wine?” 

She hesitated for a moment before nodding, gathering another forkful as he stood and walked to the bar on the other side of the room. The offer might have also just been an excuse for him to make a glass of whiskey for himself, but not before first pouring her some of the best wine he managed to smuggle in from the surface. Returning to her, he held out the glass and she took that with another thank you, taking that first sip and eyes going wide. Certainly, something she’ll never get from the Worley Winery. 

“So,” he took a seat again in the armchair next to her with his glass in hand. “Whatcha writin’?” 

Jane sputtered a bit with the next sip as he asked the question, wiping at a stray droplet on her chin before setting the glass aside. 

“Oh, um - just a little exercise Lamb wanted me to do for the next session I have with her. She wanted me to write a letter to, um…the man I knew - the one that disappeared?”

Fontaine scoffed, “What the hell is a letter gonna do?” 

He saw her cower in on herself for a split second and almost immediately regretted dismissing whatever this exercise was. 

“I’m not sure - honestly. I guess it’s a chance for me to say to him what I wish I could have if I had known I’d never see him again.” 

But he was sitting right here, and he even opened his mouth to say so. Instead, his jaw clicked shut as he watched her take a few more bites of the pasta, eventually swapping it out for the glass of wine sitting on the end table. 

“What’s somethin’ you’ve always wanted to tell ‘im?” 

She gave him a quick side glance, a bit startling with those honey eyes reflecting the light from the lamp sitting along the side table as well. The next sip from her wine glass was slow and deliberate, grabbing for the journal she had been writing in to place it in her lap. 

“I guess I’ve just always wanted to ask him why. Why did he leave without telling me he wouldn’t be back.” Jane lifted the glass to her lips, the next sarcastic huff to puff along the rim. “Honestly, if he was seeing someone else, I’d have liked to hear that than nothing.” 

He wished it was that simple. 

“What does Lamb want you to do with it?” 

“The letter?” He nodded then into his glass. “She wants to read it or have me read it during our next session. I guess to imitate me giving him the letter as a sort of - closure? I guess?” 

“Mind if I read it?” 

Her eyes boggled and she did a double-take from the journal in her lap back up to him. 

“You - you actually want to read it?” 

He tried to make the shrug as nonchalant, “Sure. I apparently share the same name as this guy, so it’ll almost be like givin’ it to ‘im, yeah?” 

The suspicion to narrow her gaze back to the journal prompted him to speak up again. “Only if you want to. I’m not gonna force you to let me if it’s between you an’ Lamb.” 

“No no -” She almost interjected, “I just didn’t think you’d care to read it.” 

“I mean, if it helps you.” 

He watched her nod then, reaching her hand out with the journal to him, and immediately replaced it with the bowl of pasta, anything to keep her hands busy as he read over it. 

“Just please, don’t judge me.” 

Fontaine couldn’t help the sincere smile, reassuring her as he took the journal - a hefty weight in his hand and opened it to the few pages that had writing on them. The next few moments he took to reading the beginnings of the letter - to him - brought about emotions he tried desperately to conceal. 

She talked about how they first met, that first night spent hours talking and she was sure when he left that night, she’d never see him again. But then, he was back just a few weeks later and came in almost every other day that first week - just talking, telling stories, her telling him about getting her degree, then hoping to get her Masters. She wrote how since her mother passed, and she became distant from her father, she’d never be able to welcome anyone else into her life, but he became a beacon of sorts. 

And she had fought with herself on if she really loved him, or if it was the excitement of finally having someone she could trust. Until she couldn’t. 

Until he left with the promise of returning, only to not. Until she was left, months later, standing on the shore with the water lapping at her feet as she couldn’t contain herself anymore. The sobbing almost instant as a slight rain shower had been looming overhead, and she couldn’t tell where her tears stopped and the rain started. 

Where had he gone, and why didn’t he just tell her where he was? 

Was he dead? 

Those written words felt like a punch to his gut. 

I just want to ask, where did you go? Why didn’t you tell me you were not coming back? All questions that left me to assume the worse. Are you gone - dead?

It ended there. A telling point that he had walked in just as she had finished writing those last words. He looked up from the journal to see she had finished the bowl of pasta, sipping the last of her wine as well with mismatched hands cupping the glass, attention on him as she waited with bated breath on his initial thoughts. 

“I um - “ He was at a loss. 

Reading what she had written so far wouldn’t have ached as much if he actually wasn’t the man she was writing to. 

“I didn’t realize this person meant so much to you. Seems like he’s an asshole for just leavin’ like he did.” 

Jane grabbed for the journal as he moved to hand it back to her, setting the empty wine glass aside and cradling the journal to her chest. 

“I suppose he is - “ Her voice was hushed. “But, because I just don’t know, I can’t decide whether the reason he left and never came back was due to ill intent or not.” 

It wasn’t, he promises her to the bottom of the ocean and back that he didn’t have ill intentions at all. Didn’t mean to hurt her, didn’t mean to leave her guessing and waiting along the shore for his return. It was for selfish reasons, for his own gain, an itch that would have consumed him if he hadn’t succumbed to it. 

She pulled her legs up to her chest, clutching the journal close as her attention turned out to the window next to them, watching the marine life weave between the buildings. Fontaine stood up then, taking her empty bowl and wine glass to drop off downstairs. Jane uttered another thank you, a tired smile accompanying it. He was just happy she finished the pasta and didn’t seem to fuss with him about it too much. 

He left her huddled up on the armchair as he made his way back downstairs, dropping everything in the sink and turning off all lights until he got back to the stairs. Movement in a building just across the water from him snagged his attention, and he stood at the window watching what appeared to be a couple dancing. The movement was faint, barely visible, but a background light creating a silhouette against the window of the couple swaying pulled at something sentimental within him, and he hated it. 

He pulled himself away from the window and took a couple of breaths as a weird overwhelming sense of frustration started to crawl its way into his chest. Instead of letting it fester for any longer, he walked back into the living area to find Jane still staring out the window. It was slightly eerie, her gaze fixed and unwavering even as he entered the room. The glow from the neon lights beyond the window painted her face and framed every familiar feature. She seemed lost in her thoughts, and he wasn’t sure if she could also see the dancing couple from her spot in the armchair. 

“Jane?” He mumbled, stepping closer. And as he reached out to tap her arm, she jolted at his presence as if she didn’t hear him return. 

She looked embarrassed for a second, her bandaged hand coming up to brush aside a strand of hair to try and hide the flush to her face. “I - I’m sorry. My head’s, I - I can’t stop thinking about earlier.” 

This moment would have been the worst to tell her ‘I told you so’, knowing from what he saw happen in the testing lab, she had to be shaken by the whole thing - if she wasn’t immediately after the incident. 

Fontaine stuck his hand out then, palm facing up towards her. “You remember what I told you?”  

It took a second for her to respond, but the nod to eventually answer his question was sure as she placed her hand in his own, trusting he’d understand that she wasn’t doing well at the moment. Helping her up from the armchair, he guided her to the bedroom, turning the light out to the living area on the way. 

Even if she had any plans to feign being busy with the letter Lamb tasked her to write, he’d make sure she’d fall asleep in an actual bed tonight, just like last night. Even if that meant physically pulling her away from the excuse of being “too tired” to return to his bedroom after she’d finished writing. 

As they passed through the stairwell, Fontaine couldn’t help but look back over to the window where he had seen the couple before. He was surprised to see the silhouettes still there swaying side to side, a little slower than they had been when he first noticed them but still there all the same. Taking a second, he also glanced back to Jane who still held the journal with her bandaged hand close to her chest, gaze down and fixed on their fingers intertwined as he pulled her along. 

They entered the shadowed darkness of the bedroom, only the fireplace and one of the bedside lamps on and creating flickering halos of light along the walls. He took no time to tug her towards the side of the bed she had slept on the previous night, pulling back the comforter as his eyes snagged on her own - unsure and apprehensive about sleeping here again. She didn’t need to say anything more. 

“It’s fine. I promise.” He whispered, hand still encasing her own, and pulled gently - encouraging her to slip under the sheets - and she eventually obliged. 

Taking the time to snuff out the fire, he eventually joined her, turning off the bedside lamp, and decided to just sit there on the mattress for a second watching her. She still had the journal, opened and in her lap to where she had left off, pen starting to scratch almost feverishly - as if she had some spontaneous stroke of genius. As he watched her, it was only a matter of time until he noticed something glint and catch the light filtering from the window next to her. Tears, tears building in her eyes and streaming down her profile facing him and she suddenly stopped writing altogether. 

“Hey -” Shifting closer to her, he found her almost unresponsive but saw her start to shake as if she was trying desperately to hold every obvious sign of weakness from him. 

Fontaine reached slowly for the journal then, taking the pen that had also fallen limp in her grasp as he moved to place both on his nightstand. An almost forgotten instinct suddenly took over, and he knew exactly what to do at this moment, what he’d always done for her on the surface whenever she’d get overwhelmed by something. 

Her body had also started to shake just slightly with how hard she was trying to conceal her emotions, wiping at the tears quickly to act as if she wasn’t crying, to begin with. However, it was obvious enough for him to entice her from where she was starting to close in on herself, grasping at her shoulders and pulling her towards him, holding her tightly. 

It was like he opened a floodgate, feeling her tears stain just under the collar of his shirt as the whimpers she tried so desperately to contain started to drip from her lips. The pain was palpable in each sound and shake of her shoulders. He started to feel her own hands creep up to grip the back of his shirt, fisting the fabric to where he could feel the slight bite of her nails along his skin. 

And he sat there, unmoving as she purged what appeared to be years of heartache that’s only been accumulating. It also made him realize he was the absolute shittest person because she was here probably partially crying about him, and he was just sitting here holding her with the biggest secret just barely visible under his surface - a secret that could even ease her here and now. 

He almost told her right then and there, but the sudden thought that it might only make things worse held his tongue. 

Eventually. He kept telling himself, I’ll have to tell her eventually. 

It felt like an hour had passed when her sobs started to quiet down, her shaking less prevalent and tears subsiding just a bit. He couldn’t help the subtle chuckle once she started to lift herself from where she had been suffocating against his shirt. 

Soft words whispered jokingly, trying to lighten the mood a little. “You should have told me you weren’t ok, Doll.” Fingers reached for her, cradling her face as he thumbed away at a couple of stray tears. 

Her breath stuttered, and she shook her head a bit. “I - I didn’t know…I honestly don’t know where all of  that came from.” 

It seemed as if, at that moment, she was also just registering their position - his arms still draped around her casually as she was still practically in his lap. He almost expected her to move right away then, the red to return and stain her cheeks as she’d apologize a million times and immediately suggest they go to bed. 

Instead, to his surprise, she didn’t make a fuss and rather slowly shifted to crawl more into his lap as he extended his legs to accompany her new position. Leaning against the multiple pillows, he let her settle herself against his chest while remaining partially on her side. It was - a little strange, probably for her - but familiar enough for him to be holding her this close. 

Anything to calm her down. 

“Is this ok?” He heard her whisper then, turning her head slightly to look up at him. “I’m sorry, I just - this feels nice. Safe.” 

Good. “It’s alright. As long as you keep this here, between us.” The wink was playful and to see the slight smile lift her lips was the best thing he’s probably seen all day. 

“I promise,” She yawned and leaned her head back against his chest and fished for the blankets around her calves, pulling the comforter up as he helped to reach and drape it over them. “Can’t let anyone know about Fontaine’s apparent soft side.” 

He couldn’t help but smile to himself at that. After a few moments spent in peaceful silence, he noticed her heavy breathing and found her to have fallen asleep already. Fontaine leaned his head back against the headboard, just shy of the pillows beneath him and he groaned slightly at the awkward position he was in. Not sure if he’d be able to fall asleep himself like this, he’d wait until Jane was dead asleep and he’d be able to adjust her a bit, otherwise he’d be waking up in the morning with the worst pain in his neck. If literally everything else he was dealing with within his companies weren’t a pain already, the last thing he needed was to wake up with a knot in his neck he wouldn’t be able to remedy for days. 

At the thought of trying to adjust their position now, he took one look down at Jane who had curled herself against him, head more or less resting at the center of his chest with body splayed out between his legs. And he couldn’t find it in himself to shift her. 

Eh, he’ll give it a little bit. And just as he was about to rest his eyes as well, one glance to his right reminded him then that he had sat Jane’s journal on his nightstand - and that before, she had been writing something in it that must have been upsetting enough to have broken her down.

Curiosity got the best of him and he reached for it slowly, trying not to disturb her as he picked it back up and flipped to the last page she’d been writing on. 

You wanted to marry me. You promised you’d return with a ring, to take me away and show me every single ocean around the world. That you’d buy us a house along the coast somewhere and a boat to take out onto the sea. You promised, you promise…

And now, I’m left to assume you never loved me, never meant anything you promised. That you were running off to see other women - 

Her handwriting started to get a little sloppy then. 

Or worst of all, that you were dead. I never knew what you did on your business trips, never asked as it was never my own business. But I always thought the worst, that it had all caught up to you…and I never had that chance to say goodbye. To tell you I loved you. 

There were a few now-drying dots along the page, her tears discoloring the paper from where the thoughts became toxic and she lost control of the bubbling emotions. The words sat heavy on his chest, like a thousand-pound weight, churning his stomach dangerously and he closed the journal to set it aside again with a horrible second of nausea to overtake him. 

Dragging his palm down his face with a hefty sigh, trying to will the abhorrent guilt away, he looked down at Jane again to see if his movements had bothered her, only to find she hadn’t moved a muscle. 

Damn, he fucked up. 

He knew damn well leaving her on the surface as he did was bound to upset her a bit, but knew Jane to be a highly independent person and part of him assumed she’d forget about him. His name and face fading to just another in the crowd. Never in his goddamn life would he think she’d find him again and be asleep on him right in this moment, and not know it was him. It made him sick to think about it again and hate himself like nothing else. 

Another exhausted groan bubbled from his chest and felt himself sink a bit into the mattress. Realizing he could move a bit without disturbing Jane, he decided to take this chance now to adjust their position. Sliding out from under her, he tried to arrange them as they were the previous night; and with some cautious movements, he was able to get them both on their sides with his arm slung back over her waist. Pulling her closer to his chest, he noticed her shifting a bit before going lax again in his grasp. He couldn’t help but bury his nose into her hair as well, that same sweet vanilla-like drug that could calm all and every thought to ever plague him. 

However, something was telling him that no matter how much he tried to bury all worries into the sheer comfort of this woman, nothing could make him forget those words in her letter.

She had absolutely no reason to forgive him.

So what was the point in revealing the truth? 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

“Cream and sugar with your tea, dear?” 

She gave a feeble smile as she took a seat on the familiar patterned couch, already giving up all resistance to the sinking cushions below. “Um - just sugar, please.” 

A few moments later, Lamb returned to the adjacent armchair and handed off the second cup of tea to Jane. The steaming mug a pleasant warmth in her hands as she immediately got a whiff of the light fruity undertones. Taking a hesitant sip, she relished the taste and moved to sit it on the coffee table in front of her, letting it cool off a bit. 

“Now, “ Lamb also indulged in a sip from her mug before setting it aside as well. “I’m glad to see you here again. I presume you’ve completed the task I assigned you during our last appointment?” 

Her attention dipped to the journal Jane had sitting in her lap, gaze sharp behind her scarlet cat-eyed glasses. Jane gripped the spine of the journal, suddenly protective over something Lamb was going to eventually read or listen to her read anyway. 

“Yes - yes, I was able to write the letter.” Jane gave a slight chuckle. “Although, I will admit - it was rather challenging to write. I didn’t expect to get as emotional as I did.” 

Lamb had lifted her hand to support her head, just listening before jotting down a quick note on the clipboard taking up its usual space on her lap. 

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. Experiencing emotion while writing this letter was a major part of the experiment I was hoping you would encounter. Facing an issue that’s been, more or less, avoided and coming to terms with that grief.” 

Jane couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that bubbled from her chest. “Oh yes, I’ll agree - there was some grief.” 

The smile from Lamb in response had a bit of bite to it that she wasn’t quite expecting, and the expression disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. But the odd feeling still lingered uncomfortably as Lamb lowered the clipboard back on her lap.

“Would it help to read the letter aloud? Or rather allow me to read it?” 

The grip on the journal tightened again, and Jane glanced down at it quickly as she bit her lip. 

“I - I think I’ll be ok reading it aloud - if it’ll help.” 

Lamb’s smile was a tad more empathic this time, “Of course, dear. Being able to address this situation and confront it will only allow you to come to terms and move on from this man’s disappearance and potential death.” 

Jane nodded in agreement, clearing her throat and finally shifting the journal in her lap to open it. And as she turned to the page where the final draft of the letter started, Lamb spoke up again. 

“Just start when you’re ready, and stop if you need to.” 

For a second, the page of the journal blurred a bit as tears started to well on her bottom lid and she took longer than she wanted to start, just wanting to get this damn letter off her chest. The first words uttered skipped over a crack in her voice, but she willed herself to continue. 

“My dearest, if - if I had known our last goodbye would have been set in stone, I wouldn’t have done it so easily.” The aching clench in her chest rattled her, her index finger lifting to lead her eyes so she could keep going. 

A sigh to calm her nerves and steady her voice, “When you had entered the bar, the night we first met, I had almost expected you to be like the rest. I almost expected to politely turn you away, and tell you that every other patron to enter that bar already tried to court me in some way. But…you weren’t like the rest.” The smallest smile lifted her lip at the memory, “You listened, you talked, you paid attention to me in a way that made me feel special and seen. I told you about my schooling, my dreams, and my aspirations. And I never expected to stay as long as I did after that shift, talking with you and not knowing how important you would become in my life.” 

Jane glanced up to Lamb to observe the woman write a few lines down in her notes before continuing. “But of course, when you had left that night, I thought I’d never see you again. And I had almost forgotten about you after the weeks went on. Until I did see you again, those unmistakable sea-blue eyes, the only thing I could absolutely not forget.” 

“And when I felt I could trust you, I was afraid of becoming over-emotional, needing to tell you that since my mother had passed, and my father remarried behind my back - finding someone to trust always felt impossible. And yet, you continued to prove you were just different.” 

Jane felt the tears return, and she fought to keep them down until she was finished with the letter, she needed to let this go. “You were a beacon, this light that would come and go - but never disappear completely. I never knew what you did on your business trips, but you always came back -” 

“And when you didn’t…that last goodbye…” When her voice started to crack again, she closed her eyes for a second, taking another deep breath. 

“It prompted so many questions I never got to ask. Questions I’d never have the answer to, even a decade later. I just want to ask, where did you go? Why didn’t you tell me you were not coming back? All questions that left me to assume the worse. Are you gone - dead?” 

Something about the letter was starting to make her angry. She’s read over it countless times and has drafted so many versions of this thing. But the more she thought about his disappearance, the more that grief was turning to anger - but desperate, in a way. 

“You wanted to marry me. You promised you’d return with a ring, to take me away and show me every single ocean around the world. That you’d buy us a house along the coast somewhere and a boat to take out onto the sea. You promised…you - you promised…”

Her jaw set then, feeling a blooming heat behind the tears that started to stream her cheeks, but feeling no sorrow behind them. 

“And now, I’m left to assume you never loved me, never meant anything you promised. That you were running off to see other women - or worst of all, that you were dead. I never knew what you did on your business trips, never asked as it was never my own business. But I always thought the worst, that it had all caught up to you…and I never had that chance to say goodbye.”

The next part she knew would ruin her, the few scratched-out lines above the final statement of the letter proved that along with the welt forming in her throat.

“To tell you…I loved you. I love you, Frank. And I miss you. Yours, Jane.” 

The silence to settle in the air around them was almost suffocating when she was finished reading. Jane sat there with the journal open in her lap and tears still running silently from her eyes to dot the pages below. She didn’t even look up to Lamb but noticed her tea on the table in front of her and how the whisps of steam were no longer rising from the caramel center of the mug. A tissue box invaded her vision next, and a hand reached for it to place beside her on the couch. 

Lamb didn’t ask anything yet, something Jane was thankful for as she dried her eyes - trying not to smudge her makeup too much, and yet knew it was a lost cause at this point. And when it appeared she had calmed down enough and gotten herself together, Lamb sat forward a bit in the armchair. 

“What are you feeling, Miss Carter?” 

Her voice was so soft, almost startling with how gentle she spoke and Jane felt her breath shudder as she composed herself. 

“I - I honestly don’t know.” She glanced back down at the words on the page that looked more like gibberish than anything, not even recognizing her messy handwriting towards the end of the letter. 

“Relief? But, a strange relief. Frustration? That I just still don’t know the answers.” 

“What did you feel after writing the letter?” 

Jane had to sit and think about that for a second, knowing that when she was almost done writing the letter, Fontaine had asked to read it. And while she was hesitant, not even thinking he’d care to, watching him read what she had so far was…interesting, nonetheless. His expressions were incredibly subtle, but she couldn’t dismiss the perplexed look to line his features now and then. As he’d go through each line almost carefully, with a sort of consideration she wasn’t expecting 

Like he just knew - something. 

“Consolation -” She found herself blurting. “I - I know that’s not too different from relief, but…I almost felt comforted by the letter - after writing it.” 

Lamb had continued writing but paused to look up at her when she mentioned her last statement. 

“This is good. While I had expected you to experience that grief, the letter was a way for you to derive said consolation.” She tapped her pencil on the side of the clipboard when she completed writing out her thoughts. “Now, the question is, after writing this letter would you rather still worry over a disappearance or grieve over a death? Since you’ve given yourself a bit of closure from this.” 

The shrug was automatic. She honestly wasn’t sure, especially since the past was still haunting her every day, in the form of Fontaine. 

“I - I’m not sure.”Jane gave a weak smile. “The letter helped, at least with putting our situation to rest - whatever it was before his disappearance. But - I don’t know still.” 

“Then -” Lamb reached for her tea to take a quick sip, Jane remembering hers as well on the coffee table but labeling it a lost cause at this point. “Let’s discuss something that came up towards the end of our last meeting, shall we?” 

Shit. 

“Of course.” Jane hoped to god Lamb didn’t just hear the crack in her voice then. 

That cheshire smile again, splitting her features for just a second. “It was about your current living condition - with Fontaine? Is there something within that situation that’s maybe keeping you from completely moving on?” 

“Possibly?” She shrugged again, reaching for the mug just to have something occupying her hands as she cradled it. “I, um…had to make some recent accommodations after losing my apartment.” Jane glanced down towards the now-cooled caramel liquid, seeing a distorted reflection. “I used my lab as a temporary home, at least until I could find a new place to live. And unfortunately -” She had a chuckle to herself. “Fontaine caught me in my lab one night and didn’t like the idea of me being there. So, he had me stay with him for the night - and then permanently.” 

Jane forced herself to take a sip of the tea, being that Lamb went through the trouble to make her some. However, it was indeed a bit cool at this point and she inhaled sharply through her teeth at the bitter taste. 

“I suppose I have a good thing going for me. I’m paying him half the rent I did with my apartment with the trade-off of being his personal housekeeper of sorts.”

Lamb chuckled. “So, it is worth it?” 

“So far it is.” 

“Do you feel safe there? As I’m sure you’re aware, Fontaine isn’t known to be the most - compassionate person in Rapture.” She could hear it in Lamb’s voice then, a sort of disdain towards the man whom everyone saw as an apathetic monster of a human. 

“I - I do.” Jane sat a little straighter against the cushions, feeling a tad defensive all of a sudden. “As cold-hearted as he is and appears to be, I’ve had no reason to feel unsafe.” 

The next eyebrow raise from Lamb fumbled her thoughts a bit and she felt like she needed to clarify what the actual issue was here. Jane set her mug down, deciding to abandon the tea altogether. 

“It’s not whether I feel comfortable there, Dr. Lamb, it’s the fact that -” She took a breath, “He reminds me of him - Fontaine. I’m not sure what it is, but something about him is constantly reminding me of my Frank from the surface.” Lamb was quiet for a second as she scribbled something down, Jane humming to herself, a little lost in thought. “It could be his eyes. They always looked like the surface of clear ocean waters. But were dark, like the deep, in low light. Or gray when I couldn’t quite read him.” 

Lamb nodded along as she spoke. “Hmm, and it sounds as if you’re seeing the same thing within Fontaine.” The silence was almost deafening between them then. “And knowing you’re also in a situation where leaving isn’t as easy as it sounds, this is quite a…peculiar circumstance.” 

“What do you suggest, Doctor? I feel like he’s just - that he’s always haunting me.” 

She was silent still, tapping the eraser of her pencil against the top of the clipboard. The tick, tick, tick, making Jane’s nerves itch as she awaited Lamb’s next words. 

“It's difficult to say, really, what the right course of action should be for you, my dear.” Lamb gave a sympathetic smile. “I suppose it comes down to how much you’re able to separate the past from the present. How much you’re willing to separate Fontaine from your past lover.” 

Jane glanced down towards the journal again, brushing a thumb over the textured cover. “It’s hard when the two have so much in common.” She muttered to herself. 

Lamb perked up when she heard that, watching Jane shift the journal between her hands in thought. It was curious, the whole situation, wondering if there was more to Fontaine than meets the eye; more to his past that maybe Jane only had a special insight to, and she didn’t even know it. Such knowledge would prove useful against Rapture’s most feared tycoon and possibly even Ryan - if she played her hand correctly with this potential information. 

“Miss Carter, I might have another exercise that could help - distract you - in a way. Help to alleviate your current predicament and focus on another series of losses to discuss for our next appointment.” Jane looked up at her again with eyes wide and curious. “Of course, if you would like a third appointment?” 

The nod was enthusiastic enough with Lamb’s smile equally as pleased. “Perfect. My next exercise for you is to write a letter to both your mother and father. Similar to what you did for today.” She also wrote down the corresponding notes on her clipboard. “This might help to switch your mindset to a different part of your past to tackle the hurtle of your mother’s death and the estrangement between you and your father.” 

Jane also took a few notes on the pages behind her first letter as Lamb talked. “Two separate letters?” She asked. 

“A single one, two separate ones; it doesn’t matter, dear.” Lamb stood up from the armchair, taking her mug along with Jane’s to set it behind them on her desk. “It will be some time until our next appointment as my schedule is filling up already for the month. So, take your time with these letters. And also maybe work on trying to separate your past from your present.” The wink was jarring, but Jane understood at least and took it with a grain of salt. 

Jane had stood up while Lamb was replacing the tissue box on the end table next to her armchair, flipping the journal nervously in her hands. Lamb paced towards her then with a grin as she ushered her towards the front door to her office. 

“Um, how long might it be until our next meeting?” Jane turned her head to ask, a little curious as to why Lamb was kicking her out already and so quickly. 

“It might only be a couple of weeks, Miss Carter. If we’re able to book you now, we might be looking towards the end of this month?” 

It was already the beginning of November, and she was lucky enough to get this appointment as soon as she did. And knowing Lamb, she had to remind herself that a couple of weeks was nothing for Rapture’s seemingly only best shrink. She was just afraid now to go back to the complex and see Fontaine, trying to separate him from her Frank. It would be a little easier now after she’s finally been able to get the letter off her chest. But that intense gaze of his - looking at her sometimes with an unsettling gentleness - would be the wall she was afraid to face and scale over. 

They were able to get another appointment scheduled towards the end of the month. Another evening where she might be coming back to the complex late, but wouldn’t miss any time in the labs. Lamb was reassuring in her capabilities of dealing with Fontaine and continued to read over the letter to remind her of the closure to work towards. 

So, even as she entered the bathysphere to head back to the complex, there was a bit of nervousness to shake her hands and cause her heart to pound. But the journal wasn’t as heavy a weight on her lap this time. And she sat back a little bit on the cushioned seat of the bathysphere bench, taking in the beautiful view of the city glowing in the afternoon light from the surface just barely brushing its rays against Rapture’s tallest building. 

~*~

He almost went to the Fisheries today, hearing from Peach at some point about how Sullivan was stalking the Lower Warf for a couple of hours. Fontaine didn’t want to cause any conflict, however, if the man was just observing - knowing damn well if he had asked Peach to confront him, the cop would immediately cuff his one good warf master for some sort of misconduct. And if Fontaine was any sort of smart, he knew when not to entice the wandering bear and that Sullivan was only there to stir up trouble for them. The man probably hoping to find some evidence about the smuggling ring that’s been rumored recently. 

After hearing nothing an hour or so later, Fontaine decided against throwing on his suit jacket and dragging Reggie with him to the Fisheries. Plus, Jane had the bathysphere for her appointment with Lamb this afternoon, a nice little excuse in case Sullivan would give him a hard time about it in the future. 

Speaking of which, it’s been a good three hours or so already since Jane left; and she mentioned how she’d be coming straight back to the complex instead of the labs. Which was honestly a little surprising. Ever since he decided to fund her experiments and eventual project of creating an alternative energy source with the use of ADAM and natural vegetation from the ocean; Jane’s been spending long nights at the labs perfecting the techniques of essentially creating new cells and growing ocean plants with just ADAM. No soil, no sunlight, and very little nutrients, and she already has a small “garden” of seaweed and kelp sitting in a container of ADAM. The few times he’s checked up on her and her progress, it was strange to watch the seaweed and kelp grow new roots and blooms without soil or other nutrients - all from one original stem.

But he was more than pleased with her whole marketing pitch of using this to one-up Ryan in his own industry. Singing to Rapture about alternative and ocean-friendly means to access electricity, television, radio, and so on - without the expense of their convenience. A whole new opportunity to squeeze more out of Rapture’s ignorant but elite. 

Fontaine sat back in his desk chair with the thought ruminating, hands folding back behind his neck with gaze unseeing towards the ceiling. A few minutes later, he heard the creaking of the front door echoing from below, along with the tapping of heels along the tiled floor. The smile to crack his facade was spontaneous and a little surprising as he stood up from the chair to put away a few of the folders he had spread across his desk. Walking out of his office and into the bedroom, however, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the laughter from spilling - finding her lying facedown on the comforter with the journal tossed on the loveseat at the end of the bed. 

“I’m - assumin’ it didn’t go well?” He paced towards the bed with hands slipping into his slack’s pockets. 

He heard her mutter something first, the bedding muffling each word before she lifted her head. “No, it went pretty well actually.” Jane tilted her head towards him with her right cheek lying back down on the comforter. “It was just - more exhausting than anything; reading the letter and talking about everything after.” 

The corner of his lip quirked into the smallest smile, pacing over towards the bed to sit on the edge next to where she had collapsed. “You could have fooled me. Thought Lamb would have told you it was all a lost cause.” 

Jane closed her eyes then and gave a slight smile as well. “Eh, I would have been able to see that anyway. Wouldn’t have gone to her in the first place if that was the case.” 

“Did she give you somethin’ else to do this time?” 

He had bent to grab the leather journal from the loveseat, flipping through all the blank pages in the back and wondering if she’d fill this like the one he remembered seeing when first meeting her. He saw her from the corner of his eye open her own and start to sit up. Frank glanced towards her and watched her nibble on her bottom lip for a second before straightening her hair a bit.

“Um, she did. She wanted me to write a letter to both my parents this time. One as a sort of formal goodbye to my mom and the other reaching out to my father - for a goodbye or closure. I have a bit of time to decide what I want to do.” 

Frank closed the journal, making sure to not disturb the privacy of the content she had towards the front, and tossed it towards her lap. Jane still caught it and let it rest there, along with the comfortable silence to settle around them. 

He watched her during those few seconds, her attention down towards the journal before lifting those honey eyes to him. She looked so vulnerable and yet so reserved at the same time, knowing thoughts to be racing a million miles an hour in her head and never knowing which one to speak first. 

“Frank - “ Jane started but shut her mouth with a click of her teeth and he couldn’t help the brief chuckle. 

Before she could speak again, he stood from the bed and extended a hand out towards her. She looked at it with hesitation before reaching to place her own into his, and he pulled her up from where she had slumped onto the mattress. 

Just like he had done many times on the surface, he found any sort of movement could untangle her thoughts - especially if she was writing a paper or working on an assignment. The moment he’d hear her huff in frustration and furiously tap the end of her pencil on her desk, he’d be up in a heartbeat to pull her away from it all. Dancing, even if it was as simple as swaying from side to side, would help ease her thoughts as she’d speak aloud her conflictions, concluding in minutes. Or if she just needed someone there to help fill the gaps that would sometimes grow into empty voids, swallowing her whole. 

She’d always be in her head too much. Which is something he thought helped them to click on the surface. Jane was smart, but still needed a hand to help pull her from the tangling web of knowledge and perceptions. Frank was, especially on the surface, confident enough in himself and his experience - allowing him to be aloof around Jane and encourage her to be the same from time to time. 

This moment was no different.

Gently placing her hands up and around his neck, he found the small of her waist and started swaying them in minuscule motions, side to side. She gave him a curious look then, one that was almost comical, before going slightly lax in his embrace. 

Jane didn’t need to know who he was, just that she could trust him. 

“Frank…did you ever know someone on the surface - someone who meant a lot to you and then, all of a sudden, they were gone?” 

The question sat heavily on his chest, his heart feeling as if it was skipping and his jaw clenched in thought. He couldn’t quite tell if she was being rhetorical or not. 

“Actually, I did.” He didn’t have plans on talking about this today but was starting to put two and two together on how this might have something to do with what she and Lamb discussed earlier. “I was always busy on the surface, always travelin’. But one of my jobs had me travelin’ further an’ for longer.” He paused to gauge her reaction, but she kept her gaze on the collar of his shirt. “An’ I had to leave her.” 

“You didn’t take her?” Curious, she looked up to him with her gaze snagging on his own and he suddenly felt part of Fontaine’s facade crack. 

“No. I was gettin’ into some pretty dangerous stuff, travelin’ into some dicey places - I couldn’t risk her gettin’ hurt.” 

Jane tore her gaze from his once hearing that, feeling her fingers tangle behind his neck as she also toyed with the collar of his shirt. 

“Lamb told me I needed to separate the past from the present.” She spoke after a few seconds, her own voice low. “Learn to separate…him from you.” 

“Me?”  

He watched her chew on her bottom lip again, gaze lifting with tears brimming and glazing over. 

“You have his eyes.” 

It felt like a tidal wave hit him then, washing over with an icy-cold realization of her internal conflict. 

And he had no goddamn idea on how to respond to her. 

Instead, he lifted a hand to thumb away a couple of tears to line her cheek, hushing her to try and calm the storm brewing within. He heard the subtle hitch in her breath like she was trying so desperately to not break down in front of him again. Her hands had slipped from behind his neck to drag down the front of his shirt to steady herself more with his other palm lifting to cradle her face. 

“If it’s any consolation, that woman I mentioned, you have her eyes as well.” 

The scoff was barely a puff to brush past her lips as she moved her hands on his chest to grip along his wrists still holding her. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” 

“Even if I was -” His smile was small and gentle, “it worked, didn’t it?” 

A chuckle spilled from her lips as she started blinking away the tears. “And give you the pleasure of knowing?” 

The answer he wasn’t quite expecting, but gave him all the confirmation he needed to know that it helped her regardless. He dropped his hands from her face with a chuckle, enticing one of her own that turned into a series of giggles, a sweet sound after a moment of vulnerability. He only secretly hopes to hear that sound more often, even if that means Lamb’s little sessions are working. 

Jane took a step back from him then, and yet, it seemed as if she didn’t realize they were still holding hands. Fingers intertwined with each other until he felt her thumb run over the callouses along his knuckles, and she glanced down at them. He honestly didn’t mind, just happy he could be a sort of solace for her and be there for her again like he used to be on the surface. Of course, this Jane didn’t know him and Frank tried to keep the disappointment from tugging on his features when she dropped his hands with a nervous laugh.

“Thank you.” She reached to fix her hair again, running her fingers through her curled auburn locks, breaking apart some of the hair product she had used that morning. “You didn’t have to do that.”

The shrug was automatic with his own hands slipping into his pockets, and he took a seat back down on the bed. “I know. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna watch you spiral on yourself without tryin’ to do somethin’ ‘bout it.” 

Her brows knit in confusion as she also crawled back onto the mattress next to him. “But why? I - I mean, I’m not saying I’m not grateful for it just…confused, I guess.” Jane huffed. “I’m just some woman, some receptionist, scientist.” 

He let the question simmer between them for a minute, attention shifting towards the frosted wall separating the bedroom from its door. The pulsing neon from the signs along the surrounding buildings blurring through the wall, distorting reality for a moment. 

“You remind me of her, from the surface.” Frank huffed and lowered his eyes to a bit of fuzz on his slacks. Lifting a hand from his pocket to pluck it from the fabric he practically muttered, “Guess - doin’ all of this for you makes me feel like I’m doin’ some sort of justice for her.” 

And it technically wasn’t a lie either. 

Frank didn’t look up towards her right away, expecting to see something hurting in those honey eyes of hers. Not ready to face any sort of guilt, any sort of truth that would render Fontaine uncharacteristically weak and vulnerable. Instead, he saw her hand reaching for his with his gaze still down towards his lap - her fingers carefully intertwining with his own as soon as his fist relaxed. She squeezed his hand a bit, enticing him to look at her, and he did. But, rather than seeing sorrow, compassion stared back along with the gentlest of smiles. 

The whisper was as soft as sea foam kissing the shoreline, “You’re a good man, Frank.” And she squeezed his hand one last time before letting go completely. 

He watched her leave then, no less going to wake Jack up from his nap and get dinner started. But, not without a small wave to him before she too disappeared behind the frosted wall; leaving him to watch her go, longing for her hands in his own again. 

“Ugh.” He slumped over with his forehead meeting his palms. 

He was losing it. 

~*~

Ryan and his fancy galas. He swears it to be a generous way of networking without the stuffiness of a formal meeting. Booze, women, dimmed lights, jazzy music, and plates full of cubed cheese were Ryan’s ideals when it came to parties. Fontaine could think of more exciting things to partake in on a Saturday night; even if it was reading more letters that Jane wrote, finding he enjoyed reading her writing and wished he’d done it more on the surface. But rather, he was here. And what Ryan promised at his galas to entice all to attend was never what was given. Booze and jazzy music, for sure, but that’s all Fontaine could find solace in this gala. Musta ran out of women, and cheese; it’s a shame.

Fontaine took a generous sip from his malt, hooded eyes wandering lazily around the crowded room as he leaned against a door frame to the Footlight theater. He glanced from face to face in the crowd and found no one interesting enough to strike up a conversation with. That was until he made eye contact with someone he rather wouldn’t have. Taking another, now unsteady, sip; he turned his body away from the approaching man and tried to focus on the theater behind him.

“Fontaine!”

Dammit.

“Hey, Fontaine! Long time no see.”

The southern accent was enough to grate on his nerves. Ryan, he could deal with, the man was relentless with his philosophical ideals, but at least his accent was tolerant enough. A fellow avenue man with a familiar drawl that held his attention long enough to create a business rival interest. With him...

“Sinclair,” He droned, “surprised to see Ryan invited you to one of his dos.”

Sinclair raised an eyebrow and held a suspender while puffing his chest.

“I’d say it’s about time, but that would be blowing my own horn there now would it?”

Fontaine smirked, a huff creating condensation in his glass as he brought it to his lips to conceal his rude amusement.

“Although, I’d say the right same thing about you pal. Aren’t you and Ryan rivals in your little business interests?”

Little?

“Ryan an’ I butt heads, but that don’t mean we can’t stand to be around each other..”

“Ah, keep your friends close and your enemies closer huh?”

God, this guy was a regular Southern John.

“You could say that.” Fontaine skimmed the partnering room to keep the smart remarks from slipping past his tongue. If he could find Ryan, he’d slip this scrub and join an actual conversation.

“You know, I need a professional’s opinion on something pal?”

God, he wouldn’t shut up.

Fontaine looked back with an arched brow, keeping the glass resting just below his bottom lip.

“I need an opinion on gaining better revenue from renting out apartments. I know you know how to use your resources, maybe you’d help me accommodate some of my own.

“Apartments?” Fontaine questioned, glass dropping from his mouth as he suddenly remembered Jane. That’s right, this bastard kicked her out with barely a week's notice. Geez, that had to have been a few months ago now when that happened…

“Yeah, I’ve had some folks recently removed based on them not making the month’s rent. However, I’m just losing business that way. Was wondering if I should put together some take-away plan where they end up owing me the month or so they missed after being shown out. Maybe charge them fees on the appliances they used.”

By now Sinclair’s voice dropped to a low whisper, either on account of having no one stealing his ideas or finding them repulsive. Fontaine figured both. 

“Why’re you thinkin’ of chargin’ these people extra?”

“Well, to gain revenue of course! Losing people doesn’t mean I have to lose business.”

“And them people you bounced out? What if they can’t pay up?”

Sinclair looked amused, eyes wide and lips pulling up into a smirk; more so on the empathy riddled in Fontaine’s tone rather than his hidden disagreement to these plans.

“My my Fontaine, going soft now are we? I thought you’d do anything for the greens?”

His grip tightened on his glass, the malt finished and the ice cube now melting. Fuck him.

“Just sayin’. Had one of my employees shut up in her lab after you kicked ‘em out.”

Sinclair’s brows twisted, repeating and mouthing Fontaine’s comment until his eyes lit up, “Oh, I see now. That woman was one of yours.”

“Woman?”

“Yeah, real pretty belle with honey eyes. Mm mm, would have loved to keep a thing like her. Maybe given her some special treatment if I had known. The woman can put any of crackpot Cohen’s betties to shame down at Eve’s,” he let out an exasperated sigh, “but, money is money.”

He couldn’t tell if the room was becoming warmer with the crowd of people closing in or if it was just himself. Fontaine could feel his blood run white hot in his veins, keeping a cool facade as he straightened himself; ready to spit an acidic remark on the bastard’s shoes. Whether he was doing it to just piss him off, or did remember Jane - he figured the latter - it still made his jaw clench and cold, razor-sharp eyes narrowing, daring the man to continue. 

“Yeah such a shame,” Sinclair went on, barely sparing Fontaine a second glance as he swirled the glass of champagne and watched the bubbles rise from the bottom and settle on the top. “Although, I have heard she’s holding up with you now, huh? Poole’s been pretty excited after getting some snaps of her waiting outside your elevator. Wonder if you’re charging her some special fee at all.”

He finished his casual remark with a wink, knowing full well the underlying intentions his comments had on the tycoon.

Fontaine wasn’t sure where these thoughts, this possessiveness, were coming from. He felt his empty hand ball into a fist, fully ready to sock Sinclair in the nose once hearing that Poole managed to get some photos of Jane at his complex’s elevator. Even though he’s made it very clear on multiple occasions for the Tribune to stay the fuck out of his personal business. 

“Listen here you bastard,” venom began to drip from his lips, “if I find you or that pathetic rat of a reporter at my front door, I’m gonna - “

“Fontaine - ”

A hand accompanied the cool voice behind him upon the seething man’s shoulder and gripped at his suit’s jacket.

“I’m grateful for you to have shown. Come, I wish to discuss something with you.”

Fontaine glared at the shorter man, upper lip curling with bloodlust still pulsing through his system. He let his form be tugged away from Sinclair and back into the Kashmir. His smug expression was still visible until Fontaine was shoved past a group of people and under a stairwell to the second level. 

“Fuckin’ bastard.” He finally huffed and tipped his glass, a few drops of malt now mixing with the melted water from the ice cube.

Ryan smiled, amused and relieved from having to break up another fight at his gala.

“I know you to be a well-known businessman down here, Fontaine; always surrounded by a grande space of influence, but your temper can be felt throughout an entire room.”

“Shut up,” Fontaine grumbled and took another watery sip, tongue now scraping at a dry glass.

Andrew Ryan smiled, taking the drink from the man’s hand and setting it on a nearby waiter’s tray; hinting at another refill for him. With a flash, the waiter disappeared as red smoke danced in his wake, and then reappeared with a full glass of whiskey. Fontaine took it with a smirk and raised the glass at Ryan’s courtesy.

“Now, about what I wanted to discuss with you.”

“You’re not lookin’ to poke an’ prod at the Futuristics again now are you, Andy?”

“Yes and no.” Ryan took a sip from his champagne glass and looked back towards the crowd, “I wanted to discuss with you your latest success.”

“Latest?”

“You have a new employee, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Her work is remarkable.”

Fontaine choked and coughed several times before speaking, the whiskey burning deep in his throat. Of course, once word of Jane’s little project got out; some minor articles were written about it but he honestly didn’t expect it to take off so suddenly. He figured once she was able to prove her project was making some actual leeway - like lighting a bulb or something with energy derived purely from seaweed - she’d get more momentum and confidence with being able to talk about the project in more detail to the Tribune. 

Then again - 

“Didn’t think you’d be interested in somethin’ like what she’s workin’ on - especially in its early stages as it is.” He threw a smirk in Ryan’s direction. “You sure you don’t intend to just use her for some inside info on the Futuristics, Andy?” 

“Fontaine,” a small smirk graced the elder man’s lips, the whisks of his mustache curling as he extended a hand to the other man’s shoulder. “I don’t wish to use your employees as a means of gaining information about how you run your business.”

He pulled the man along to walk with him toward an empty section of the Kashmir as people gathered around the band.

“This woman, rather scientist, you’ve hired has proven her extensive knowledge through these interviews about everything considering the very environment we currently reside in. I only mean to learn about the creatures and living beings we share this grande space with.”

Fontaine had been quiet as Ryan spoke. Swirling the bronze liquid within his glass with much intrigue.

“How do I know, for sure, that you won’t be usin’ her?” He growled under his breath.

“Please, Fontaine, with my interest in your businesses and antics, I would only question you myself. There’s no fun in it otherwise. With Miss -”

“Hartley.” He hesitated, only for a second.

“Right, Miss Hartley. I only mean to question her field of study. With knowledge of the sea and the life it holds, we can better build around it; and use its resources.”

Fontaine chuckled, “So you mean to gain information to help your own company?”

“I said no such things.”

“You just did, Andy! Listen -“

He stopped their pacing and blocked Ryan before they both ascended the staircase. The space was small enough so Fontaine could lean his whole form against the railing.

“How about, at your next do, you invite both of us; I’ll introduce her, an’ you have your little 20 questions. You say anythin’ I don’t want her answerin’, I’ll be there to stop her pretty mouth.”

“Alright.” Ryan straightened his posture to match the dominant aurora Fontaine was giving off. “I’ll go along with your request and - “

He turned to scan the room, both the men settling their gaze on the short, plump Southerner. “I’ll maybe take into consideration who I invite next time.”

Fontaine raised his glass once again, a toast to Ryan’s consideration. It’s the least the man could do for his biggest rival.

~

The elevator ride up, in itself, had been exhausting. Fontaine didn’t get drunk often, he definitely knew how to hold his liquor. However, avoiding Sinclair and then buddying up with Ryan to avoid Sinclair; the chore itself had given him the biggest headache. The whiskey certainly not helping his current state either.

It was about two in the morning, and he didn’t care anymore. A dark apartment suite had greeted him after pacing slowly through the zen garden, the hall was eerily quiet but not empty save for the buzzing security camera and spinning turret. After trekking up the steps to the foyer, he noticed a light on in the dining room, the faintest illumination in a corner of the dining table.

With his curiosity more hungry than his need for sleep, he paced towards the light and found her sitting at the table in her robes.

“Jane?”

She turned as the accompanying voice shook her of her daydream, “Frank, I’d thought you’d be home later.” Her voice was a hushed whisper.

“An’ I’d thought you’d be in bed already.”

She smirked, turning back to her journal situated on the table in front of her; pen etching into the paper. Fontaine suppressed the next smart comment to spill from his lips, the whiskey wanting him to blab on annoyingly about her incessant drawing. Instead, he took a seat next to her facing the window and looking out to the city; his form falling heavily onto the creaking wood.

“How was the gala?”

Fontaine huffed, “You’d think ol’ Andy would know how to throw a decent party.”

“Well, you seem drunk enough.”

He shot her an accusing glare and straightened himself, “Listen, honey, first things first; I wouldn’t be drownin’ in whiskey if Sinclair didn’t decide t’rear his ugly mug.” He could feel his face flush again, “Second, I ‘ad to buddy up with Ryan for the rest of the night just t’avoid the southern shit.”

A smile still sat comfortably on her lips as she listened to him ramble, her eyes trained on her sketch. “Sounds like a fun time.”

Fontaine paused, lip quirking into a growl; “This is how you welcome the fella who took you in? Let you stay at his place?”

Jane only turned to give him a small tired smile in response, her eyes heavy but adamant in staying awake, “Frank, I’m sorry you had to deal with that but, you’re home now. You just need some rest.”

Fontaine huffed, mocking as he leaned back in the chair with arms crossed and knees spread. The atmosphere was quiet for a few seconds, save for the sounds of the ocean on the other side of the glass window. A constant groaning and distant whistling of sea creatures.

“What’re you drawin’?”

Jane lifted her head with a “Hm?”, and glanced at the window before himself.

“I always draw sea life, Frank.” She hummed lazily, “It’s a habit I suppose I forced myself to create on the surface. But, after spending so much time drawing the sea life, I never took notice of the buildings behind them.” She lifted her journal to show him a sketch she had been doing of the outside of Fort Frolic, “Say what you want about Ryan, Sinclair, or whoever; Rapture’s a beautiful city.”

He felt a smile quirk on his lips, “Yeah, suppose I always appreciate a good view.”

His eyes wandered from the drawing to the window where she was referencing from; then to her. She had returned the journal to the space in front of her, her pen continuing its work. However, he continued to watch her.

He’s tried everything recently to convince himself that what he was feeling wasn’t love, especially not as Fontaine. Such emotions were sucked dry from him when he was just a kid. His father dumping him at that orphanage without so much as a goodbye or reason. Over the years and as he grew older, he found himself adapting to lies, to fake emotions, relationships, and appearances. All of which growing his value through the addictive adrenaline of a good con, a well-paid grift that ensured him a place to stay, and food to eat. And as he got better at it, at hiding the empty shell that was Frank, he only became hungrier for wealth - for worth - and took the risks to become selfish, cold-hearted, cunning tycoons and businessmen like Fontaine. 

And yet, there was the underlining aspect to him that only he knew, that only he was aware of all day, every day. How much of a fraud, a fake, and a conman he was, stuffing Hartley so far down into his subconscious as to not be reminded where he came from, the pathetic kid he was. 

The only other person who knew, besides Reggie, was sitting here right now; and he still didn’t have the guts to tell her. If anything was proving to render Fontaine weak, it was this woman. Because Frank couldn’t dare dismiss these feelings for her, even after a decade. 

And he had just given her a fake last name for Ryan. His sober self a few glasses deep cursing at him to hell and back. The alcohol trying to justify for himself that he had to at least keep some of her information private from Ryan, for now. 

He leaned forward in his chair, eyes watching how the sea-green glow danced upon her features. How serene she appeared against the backdrop of the ocean and the concentration fixed in her eyes. He could watch the drawing play out in her head, and the gears turn on where to put what line that matched the building from outside.

Speaking of which, “Ryan wants t’invite you to his next gala.”

She lifted her head again, honey-brown pools fixed on his own and causing a ripple of excitement to crawl up his spine. The look of concentration still fixed deeply in those eyes and on her face.

“Does he now?”

“He saw your interview in the Tribune an’ was a little impressed by it. Wants to talk t’you ‘bout the ocean. I guess he wants t’learn more of the sea life to build the city ‘round.” He stretched and leaned back, arms crossed up and behind his head, one hand holding at his elbow.

“And what did you say?” She went to close her journal and crossed her own hands, resting her chin upon them. “Do you think he might be getting a little too close to this project, it’s supposed to one-up his business after all.”

A shrug, nonchalant. “Eh, we’ll play his game for a bit. I said sure, as long as I’m there to help twist your words if necessary. He’ll want to get his hands on whatever information he can, see if the project is a threat at all.” 

She shook her head and smiled, standing from her seat and gathering her journal and pen.

“Then, I’d be delighted to attend.” Her hand was a gentle touch upon his shoulder and upper arm. “You should also get some sleep.” The touch left a slow burn he could feel even under the jacket of his suit.

He watched her leave, her form disappearing behind the wall as he listened to her venture up to the bedroom. He looked over towards the clock on the wall then, debating with himself on if he should get some work done, or go to bed as Jane suggested. With his mind already fuzzy from the alcohol, he figured sleep was the best option. The chimes from the clock he had been mindlessly staring at finally struck 2:30, a low groan accompanying his hands as he ran them down his face. Fine. 

After making up his mind, he started up the stairs towards his bedroom as well, gaze snagging on Jack’s room as he passed. He couldn’t remember if Jane said she had put Jack to bed already or not, he assumed she did. Curiosity got the best of him and he couldn’t help but peek past the bedroom door that was left cracked just slightly. Surprisingly, what greeted him wasn’t Jack sitting in bed reading a book, but the kid fast asleep with the radio near his bed on and music singing softly.

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

Maybe she didn’t hear him correctly. “You want to come with me? To Pauper’s Drop?” 

“Yeah, is that a problem?” 

Jane shook her head immediately, the corner of her lips dropping into a rather dramatic frown. “No, no. I’m just…surprised, I guess. I mean, the Drop isn’t for the faint of heart.” 

Fontaine turned to her from where he had been putting away a few folders in a cabinet behind his desk, and yet she could only greet him with a smirk. 

“Faint of heart, huh?” He closed the cabinet with a bit more force than intended, the entire thing rattling a bit as he stepped up to his desk. “You know, if you don’t want me to go you can just say so.” 

Jane shrugged, hands clasping behind her back as she wandered over toward the left of his office. “I’m not saying you’re not welcome to come with me. Just - are you ready to see what’s down there?” She gave him a glance over her shoulder before turning her attention to the few uninteresting titles lining his office bookshelves. 

“What? Not like I haven’t seen a shit show before. I was at one of Ryan’s galas almost a week ago, anyway.” 

She turned with a smile concealing a chuckle, watching him prop himself against the edge of his desk with arms crossing. A complete turn from when she had first entered his office months ago and he was practically dragging her out by the arm. She’d never admit now how many times she’s entered his office, with his permission of course, to pick out a book or two to read during her lunch break. 

“True,” Jane started again, turning back to the shelf to grab a book that had snagged her attention earlier. “I guess, if you really want to go, you’d have to be as inconspicuous as you can be. People down in the Drop despise Ryan, imagine what they think of you.” 

“Nothin’ better, I’m assumin’.” 

Turning with the book now, she opened it to read a few words on the first page, humming to confirm his assumption as she paced closer to him at the same time. When she got close enough, she watched in her peripherals as he reached out a hand to take the book by the spine between her grasp to slowly shut it. Jane lifted her gaze just as steadily as he did so, a brow raising to find a coy smile lining his lips. 

“You still want to come with me?” 

He lifted the book from her hands, setting it aside behind him on the desk before standing and taking a step into her space. She glanced down then to see a hand extended towards her, and she lifted her own to run the tips of her fingers, feather-light, along each line and crease of his palm. Keeping their gazes locked, she finally allowed his fingers to intertwine with her own. 

“Sure. I can hold my own,” He lifted her hand, lips barely brushing against her knuckles. “Been in worse places on the surface, believe me.” 

“Oh, I believe you.” She felt the flush line her cheeks but was rather fond of the display than embarrassed of it now. “I guess I’m just worried about my friends seeing you down there and going ballistic.” 

A chuckle dripped from his lips as he pulled her closer, his free hand finding her hip to rest upon while her opposite palm met his chest. She dropped her gaze for a second to his tie, busying her free hand in fixing the fabric, straightening it out to distract her from his proximity. 

He’s been getting bold recently. They would usually do things like this in the privacy of Fontaine’s complex, and she found herself complaining very little. The contact felt almost natural, and the way they moved around each other in the privacy of the complex felt comfortable as well. But these little visits she would make to his office for a book or to give an update on her project would always end in something like this; his arms around her in some fashion and a dangerous heat to scorch her face. But the biggest “problem” was, she didn’t really mind it, expected it even when she would visit. She just prayed to any and all gods no one would happen to walk in during these moments for her dignity’s sake. Otherwise, she’d confine herself to her lab afterward just to ride out the burning embarrassment. 

“I’ll be your shadow, Doll. Won’t make myself known down there unless I want to.” 

The scoff was abrupt. “You, Fontaine? A shadow?” Jane lifted her attention for a second up towards him and met his eyes, unable to pull away from the hypnotic blue of them. “You step into a room and become the most prominent person there without trying.” Tide pools, his eyes looked like tide pools today. 

“But - “ She patted his tie and adjusted the collars of his suit jacket a bit, wiggling the best she could out of his grasp with the nagging feeling someone might see them then. “If you’re so adamant about joining me, I can’t say no. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

He let go of her then, rather reluctantly, with a smirk to rest along his features. Hands finding themselves in his pockets again, that same clear-blue gaze followed her lazily as she reached around for the book he had set down. Cradling it to her chest, Jane started making her way to the front of his office, turning for a second to call back,

“Tomorrow, I’m letting my friend know I’ll be coming down tomorrow. So, you better let Reggie know he needs to watch Jack if you want to come with me.”

And speaking of which, as soon as she received a nod in acknowledgment, Jane turned back to the door to leave; the wood creaking open to reveal none other than Reggie with fist up ready to knock. 

“Oh, hello, Jane.” He gave her his usual gentle smile as she greeted him as well and let him in first, slipping through the doors again before they could shutter close. 

Clutching the book to her chest, she chewed her poor bottom lip to shreds to keep the smile from slipping as she made her way back down to the labs. Her head was practically on a swivel until she got to the staircase going down, hoping no one saw her leave Fontaine’s office. The last thing she needed was a curious employee spreading rumors because she wasn’t careful enough. 

Although, forget about her reputation at the Futuristics, she had to come up with some sort of excuse now as to why Rapture’s most successful and dominant tycoon was floating by her side down in the pits of the city. She almost had every reason to trust him while down there with her, knowing he wouldn’t do or say anything to jeopardize his image. It was everyone else, the entire Drop ready to shun her - her own friends - ready to turn their heads from her and ask that she never return; that she was a traitor for deciding to live with someone so influential but did nothing for them. Losing her apartment was one thing, losing her friends - she knew - would only be more devastating. 

Guess she’d just have to find out.  

~*~

If anything, it felt like things were normal again. 

The usual grime lining the edges of the windows, a few sea stars sticking to the corners, the familiar clicking and murmur of bubbles from the tracks above as the Atlantic Express chugged on. Jane had stolen a side-glance towards Fontaine to still find him sitting rather uninterested next to her, and yet she knew he had to be out of his element a bit.

The previous night, he had mentioned they take the bathysphere into the Drop. But, Jane had to bring up the rather amusing fact that the Drop literally did not have a bathysphere station - or one that was working at least. She thought he’d thrown in the towel at that, drawing the line at using Ratpure’s public transportation. And if he wanted to come down with her he had to be alright with humbling himself for a bit. 

When they woke up this morning, she half expected him to be on his second cup of coffee drowning in paperwork in his office; confirming that he decided against going with her. Instead, he was already in the bathroom getting ready to go. And she had stood, a little smitten, in the doorway waiting for her turn in the shower. 

She also had to take the time to try and persuade him to dress down a little, to bring less attention to him. While Fontaine was known for his expensive and pressed suits, she helped him to pick out a simple vest instead of a suit jacket, a pair of slacks he didn’t wear too often, and a nice hat to top it all off. He may have grumbled to her a bit once viewing the finished ensemble, not too happy about presenting himself in such a low light. But after a few affirming words, she was finally able to convince him it was fine as she dawned a casual dress she used to wear at the Fishbowl during a shift. 

Then, no sooner than later, they were pulling up to the Express station at the Drop, the atmosphere turning rather ragged and somber quickly - compared to the rest of Rapture and its gilded accents. She turned to Fontaine as they came to a stop, other passengers standing immediately to get off, and she held a hand to stop him from getting up as well. 

The longer they’d wait to get off the Express, the fewer people to see him and suspect something. That, and she was interested in watching him as he took a few seconds to study the people getting off and the environment around him. Trying to keep a disinterested expression, the crease of his brow was obvious enough, probably having an assumption of what he was expecting to see down here; but not quite anticipating what he was actually seeing. 

Through the windows of the train car, there were Rapture’s ragged and poor sleeping on benches and waiting for the train as well. Piles of trash here and there that no one had ever cared to clean up with pipes dripping saltwater from the ceiling and soaking them. The smell alone rivaled that of a wet dog, but she was so used to blocking out the sights and smells, that such things didn’t even bother her while she lived down here. Apparently, with how long she’d been living away from the Drop, the smell was an unpleasant surprise when she and Fontaine trailed behind the other passengers getting off the train car. 

Rusted metal, smelling strongly of bloodied copper combined with the mold and mildew growing on anything and everything. Jane held a hand up to her nose for a passing second as she also stood to gather her bearings in the station. 

“Can’t believe you lived here at one point.” She heard the comment low and mumbled next to her and she turned with a shrug. 

“It wasn’t ideal, I’ll admit.” Jane spun around to the entrance between the station and the rest of the Drop. “But, it’s home for all of us who couldn’t seem to make it anywhere else in Rapture.” 

The shrill sound of the train car’s whistle pierced the air as it started again down the track and back out into the ocean. Both had looked to watch it leave through the airlock doors, the crowd in the station calming down significantly as well. 

“You seemed like you were goin’ places.” Fontaine looked over his shoulder towards her. 

Jane gave a small smile, eyes lowering towards the mismatched tile of the station as she spoke. “Nowhere far very fast, that’s for sure.” 

Looking up to meet his gaze again, she gave a slight nod towards the entrance. It seemed as if he was going to say something then, respond to her comment in some way; instead he took her nod as an invitation to get all of this over with already and started following her out of the station.

The crowd started to pick up in the tunnel between the station and the square where the Fishbowl was located. More homeless finding shelter under jutting pipes with pieces of cardboard and wood shielding them from the dripping water. A few people she even recognized, some of whom she had given leftovers to from the diner as she’d sit and listen to them tell stories of their lives before Rapture. They were pleasant people who ran into a series of unfortunate events, leaving them almost bound to the corners of the Drop - the only place that would accept them in this “utopia”. 

Sensing a bit of unease from behind her, Jane slowed her walking and held out a hand behind her. Almost expected him to tell her he was fine, but instead, she felt his hand slip into hers; fingers intertwining and he squeezed her palm signaling he was good to keep going. 

Now, he wouldn’t say he was scared or anything, just slightly unsettled by the sight of it all. Frank dealt with his own bouts of homelessness on the surface, bounced from one place to another with nothing but a cent to his name after he ran away from the orphanage. Seeing everything down here in the Drop was no surprise, nor was it unfamiliar, just a bit unsettling knowing it was happening under Rapture’s nose and really no one knew or cared. Ryan, above anyone, would be the person to address this. However, going off of the suspicious glances from some individuals and sorrowful expressions on others; this place reeked of nothing but hatred and disdain towards a leader who’s done nothing for them. And he wouldn’t be surprised if some of that loathing was directed towards him as well - something he rather not have on his conscience at the moment. 

Although, at this point, it seemed inevitable. Jane’s warm and guiding grip on his hand was the only thing steadying his current train of thought. 

Keeping close to one another, Jane started pulling Fontaine from behind her so he was walking up next to her; seeing a familiar sight that unsettled her even when she did live down here. ADAM junkies, hoarding vials and jars of it in a group in another corner as the tunnel veered right. Anywhere else in Rapture, these splicers would be apprehended with Lamb even mentioning how she’s seen a few for psyche evaluations. But they could be aggressive, especially if they were splicing with any plasmids like Incinerate or Electrobolt. 

It only took a few seconds for him to notice as well, glancing to their right at the group of splicers huddled with eyes wild and almost accusing - like any passerby would challenge them for their ADAM hoard and no remorse to plague their conscience if they were to incinerate an innocent person. But the look they were giving her was incredibly unnerving, similar to the splicer who had stopped her as she was walking home from the Fishbowl to ask for some ADAM; the man getting rather upset when she told him she didn’t have any - really didn’t even have enough EVE either. The man didn’t leave her alone until she got to the complex with James taking the initiative to step between her and the man to let her get into her apartment safely. 

Getting up close and personal with what ADAM can do to an individual, she did everything she could to avoid these splicers. 

Jane felt Fontaine squeeze her hand again and step up between her and the splicers, using his height and broader form to block her from them until they passed. She had side-stepped closer to him in the process, grabbing his arm with her opposite hand to huddle herself more behind him as well. Once they had turned the corner and then left again towards the first square that housed the Fishbowl, Jane released her grip on his arm and took a breath. 

“Thank you.” She muttered, also loosening the tighter grip she didn’t realize she had on his hand. 

 He glanced down towards her with a hum. “Somethin’ happen before?” 

The nod was slow and careful as she tugged him to the left of the diner, this space was a lot more welcoming with people standing around talking and laughing; filling the space with the same familiar energy as Apollo Square. 

“A man - a splicer - followed me back to my apartment demanding I give him some ADAM. I kept telling him I didn’t have any and to leave me alone, but he didn’t. It was quite frightening.” 

She felt him tense a bit, his next few steps lagging behind her as they continued through the square and past the diner. 

That surely didn’t sit well with him. 

As they started rounding the diner, Frank took the chance to peer in and found almost every single booth filled. Groups of friends, families, couples, just about everyone and anyone seen laughing, talking, eating with a couple of waitresses moving back and forth from the kitchen with trays stacked and food steaming. He remembered Jane mentioned how she used to work here, and yet he still couldn’t picture her there in an apron with a pen and pad catering to numerous tables at once. Maybe it was because he was so used to seeing her in a lab, her white lab coat always washed, notebook in hand and auburn hair pulled up as she’d stand at her table with microscope and container full of thriving sea plants. 

Jane tugged him along then, looking back to him with a small smile at his apparent interest in the diner and more welcoming group of Drop residents inside. Instead, they continued down another tunnel that split into three ways, both sections directly ahead leading to the Sinclair Deluxe with a far-right tunnel heading towards the market. 

Groups were still milling around the entrances to these tunnels with individuals walking to and from the apartments. And, even down here in this slum, they were not only robbed of the opportunities Rapture could have had for them but of a decent view of the ocean as well. The tunnels displaying nothing but the metal beams and workings of the Express tracks with natural debris hindering any visual of the ocean out beyond. It was like living in the basement of a building with no adequate views or windows as you’re shoved right between the electrical box and boiler. And yet, the people down here still tried so hard to make something of it. 

And while Fontaine wasn’t sure what to expect of Sinclair’s Deluxe Tenements, the entrance seemed to have spoken for itself. 

The first thing he noticed was how dark it was, the ceiling above them with skylights taking up a good bit of real estate still sat hundreds of feet from the lobby of the complex. The light that already barely reached the Drop shone in thin slivers down to where they were standing; putting some laundry strung about above them in a spotlight as well. The tiles beneath them looked as if they had just recently been cleaned, but the spiderweb-cracking reaching and running along a majority of the floor took away from the masked shine of bleach cleaner. There was an elevator sitting just behind a receptionist's desk where a man stood sorting several envelopes, his form tall and rather slender. However, as soon as he lifted his gaze to them approaching, his face split into a huge grin when his eyes fell on Jane. 

“Hey, Jane! Haven’t seen you in a hot minute!” 

She smiled a bit sheepishly and let Fontaine’s hand slip from her own to find solace in his pants pockets. 

“I know, James. I promised you and Ann I’d be down for dinner sometime but work’s gotten so busy.” 

James scoffed, eyes rolling playfully as her smile widened. “You were always good at givin’ excuses. I mean, I understand but Ann on the other hand - “ 

Jane gave a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, I’m here to grab some things from her that I had left. Maybe I can talk to her and try to apologize.” 

“Good luck with that.” She watched his face fall a little. “You’re good to go up and visit her, but I’d maybe tread a little light. She was rantin’ to me a good bit when I stopped to get breakfast at the diner this mornin’.” 

Wonderful. 

The shrug was small and remorseful as she tried to keep her smile light and hopeful. Ann was her best friend and she hated disappointing her, especially when finding the time to get together and keeping her in the loop with her “new life”. No matter how better off Jane is now, she knows Ann is always prepared for the worst. Her friend wanted to know often enough how she was and how the living situation was going with Fontaine; the woman was always on edge about how much she could trust the tycoon to keep his end of the bargain. 

As James let them through to the elevator, his own curious and suspicious glance towards the man by her side was prominent; it made her think twice about whether allowing Fontaine to come with her was going to end in disaster or not. 

When they arrived at Ann’s floor, Jane stepped out first to start leading them down the hallway. However, she felt something in her stomach drop, glancing back toward where her apartment used to be and a dense sorrow settled along her chest. Fontaine had stepped from the elevator behind her, noticing how she seemed to be standing like a deer in headlights facing back to the left side of the floor’s horseshoe shape. 

“Everythin’ alright?” He muttered, looking back towards the few apartment doors that lined the wall. It hit him then. “One of those used to be yours?” 

The nod was slow, feeling as if she had lead bearing beaded around her throat with the welt that grew and lodged itself. 

“It’s dumb to be upset about it,” She mumbled, clearing her throat and the welt that sat heavy. “But, coming to Rapture and finally making it to the point where I had a decent apartment down here, it was all a testament to myself and my hard work. For being brave enough to leave the surface behind and move on.” 

He knew what she meant. And to have it all ripped away from her without as much as a moment’s notice. “I mean, I’d argue that you’re in a better place now, right?” It was better than being taken advantage of by Sinclair. 

But, the look she had turned back to him with sort of startled something deep. Her eyes were dark and mellow, her face pulled down and he noticed just how debilitated she appeared. 

“Am I?” 

The words pierced something within him as she heaved a sigh and turned away from her old apartment, moving towards a long hallway that sat in front of the elevator; and he could do nothing but follow. 

The hallway she started leading them down was just as suggestive as the lobby of the complex; the same cracking along the tile floors and flickering lights along the walls gathering cobwebs and dust. The place looked as if it might have been well maintained when it first opened but fell victim to an uncaring owner who had better things to do. Apparently attending a gala and sipping champagne was time well spent compared. It also was a little amusing to find a note on every other door as Jane led them down the hallway. All notes either an eviction notice or about owed rent and the warning of a potential eviction. 

And Sinclair wanted to keep charging these poor bastards even after they’d leave. Shame. But this was Rapture. 

They ended up stopping at an apartment off to the left a few doors down from the elevator, this one not having a note attached to it. Jane heaved a sigh then, sounding as if she was just as relieved to notice that as well. It took a few knocks before the door opened to reveal another woman about Jane’s age, her hair pulled back into a bun with a few curly strands sticking out here and there. She wore a yellow bandana as well to match her spring yellow dotted dress, her eyes lighting up once she saw Jane but her face almost going gaunt once she noticed Fontaine over Jane’s shoulder. 

“Jane! You’re early, you should have told me you were gonna be here sooner.” The woman’s voice cracked a bit. 

Jane shrugged, the smile immediate as Ann stepped aside to let them both in, gaze immediately narrowing towards Fontaine. 

“I know, I’m sorry, Ann. The Express didn’t take as many stops as I thought it would have on the way over.” She turned to Ann as she closed the door, finding the other woman’s gaze almost predatory towards Fontaine. 

Ann was also just as quick to step up to Jane’s side, grabbing a hold of her arm and trying to mutter as politely as she could, “Can I talk to you for a second?” She glanced towards Fontaine who gave her a disinterested, but sharp look as well. And she took no time in dragging Jane around the corner to the kitchen with a quick, “Excuse us,” to the tycoon. 

Once they were mostly out of earshot, Ann turned to Jane with eyes wide and - more or less - completely shocked. “What the hell is he doin’ down here?!” Ann tried keeping her voice low, the exclamation whispered harshly. 

Jane threw up her hands in defense. “He wanted to come with me. I tried to talk him out of it, but he insisted, and I didn’t fight him on it. Guess he was just curious about the Drop.” 

“Curious?” Ann hissed, “Jane, Fontaine is in my apartment. A man more feared than Ryan, and he’s just standin’ out in my livin’ room?!” 

“Ann,” Jane chuckled, holding her hands out to grab for her friend’s shoulders. “It’s ok, I promise. I trust him enough.” 

The silence from her friend was deafening as she stared at her completely in astonishment, jaw almost comically slack with her gaze zipping back to the corner just behind them. 

“You’re joking. Jane, please tell me you’re joking.” Ann lifted her own hands to grab at Jane’s wrists as she still held onto her shoulders. “Please, tell me there’s nothin’ like - goin’ on between the two of you?” 

“What?” Jane dropped her hands from Ann’s shoulders, feeling her face heat up just slightly. “Goodness, no.” She took a step back. “I guess I’ve just gotten comfortable enough since living with him over the past few months. He’s not as terrifying as the Tribune makes him out to be.” 

Ann crossed her arms, a brow raising in accusal as she hummed a “Uh-huh,” before shaking her head.

“Ann,” Jane gave a small smile. “I’m just here for the suitcase I left. I promise, just let me take it and we’ll be on our way.” 

Her friend stood there for a second, giving her a once-over before clicking her tongue. “You know what, sure.” And with that, she turned on her heels to walk out of the kitchen, Jane hesitantly following behind with a fleeting thought Ann wasn’t going to let any of this go so easily. 

Ann veered off towards her bedroom as Jane returned to the living room, finding Fontaine to have busied himself with a copy of the Tribune Ann had on her coffee table. She gave him a lopsided smile to mirror his curious expression, toeing over to stand next to him as Ann returned from her bedroom. The suitcase in question was a heavy weight in her hands as she stood on the other side of the living room with a smug curl to her lip. 

“You can have this, but I feel like we also need to talk about the past few dinners you’ve missed with James an’ I recently.” She dropped the suitcase as it made an angry thud against the wood flooring. “And what better place than the Limbo Room, right? Give the man a drink as we plan the next dinner an’ you promise to come to this time?” 

Jane knew exactly what Ann was doing with that exaggerated tone in her voice, and she turned to Fontaine who still held his impassive expression fairly well. While she knew Ann legitimately wanted to talk about why she’d been skipping out on the dinners they had planned, she knew it was a test with Fontaine. Ann did not like the man, way before Jane even started living and working for him. But she knew part of her suggestion to go to the Limbo might be a way for her to prove maybe something was going on between them, or to put him under fire to see if he was treating her ok at the complex. Ann was protective like that, but it kept Jane out of some potentially nasty relationships over the years. 

“I mean…” Jane glanced over to Fontaine, hands in his pockets with shoulders relaxed. “If that’s ok?” 

He gave a casual shrug. “I’ve got nowhere to be.” 

“Of course you don’t.” She heard Ann mutter under her breath, and Jane shot her a look before she moved to grab the suitcase and followed Ann out after shrugging on her jacket. 

Fontaine followed close behind, even reaching for the suitcase at some point to take it from Jane’s grasp, and she turned to give him a quick “thank you” and an appreciative smile. They went back the way they came down the hall to the elevator, one of the lights that had been flickering before now completely out and dark. 

The elevator ride down also felt more claustrophobic than it usually does stuffed with half a dozen people, with Jane standing between Ann and Fontaine, trying to keep the small talk casual and light with Ann the entire time. She was also almost glad to not see James down in the lobby either, probably on his break, as she knew Ann would use him to heckle her to no end about the dinners she’d dipped out on. 

She loves her friends, she really does, and even admits getting together when she still lived down in the Drop was much easier. Something she knew Ann missed dearly, maybe feeling as if she was losing her best friend to one of Rapture’s richest men. Jane promised it wasn’t like that at all - at least - she thought it wasn’t like that anyway. 

Ann led the way as they exited the complex lobby and started heading left down a longer tunnel toward the marketplace. And as they passed the Town Square along the way, the tunnels started to pick up a bit; and with it being a Saturday, the marketplace was also bustling with a sociable crowd. 

It was nothing compared to the Farmer’s Market, but the familiar faces at each stand were something Jane looked forward to when she did her shopping down here. A little corner of the city she could count on, a group of people whom she knew by name. And for a second, she had forgotten she had ever left. 

It wasn’t until she felt the brush of fingertips against her own, almost feather-light, and she opened her palm for him to slip his fingers between hers. Keeping close to each other, Jane moved her hand behind her back so Ann wouldn’t see if she were to turn. And the warmth of his hand alleviated her nerves for a bit as they approached the entrance to the Limbo Room. Of course, until she saw a sign near the bar of the Limbo advertising Grace and her heart dropped to her stomach. 

Shit.

They followed Ann to a table as the band played a number atop the small stage towards the front of the club’s main room. It was a cramped space, but never kept crowds from lining every corner of the bar to see Grace perform and forget about all of life’s worries. On a Saturday afternoon, however, there were still a good few dozen people chattering amongst the backdrop of music and clanking of glasses from the bar in the adjacent room.  

Once they were seated, Ann turned with a forced smile towards Fontaine. “Anythin’ to drink I can getcha, sir? A pink elephant, maybe?” 

He gave Jane a quick side glance and she chuckled lightly. “Make that two, Ann.” 

The woman nodded, still all smiles as she turned back for the bar. Jane cleared her throat once the tension growing between the three of them faded as it trailed off behind Ann. 

“A pink elephant is a popular drink down here, it’s just a bourbon whiskey. I promise Ann won’t try to poison you or anything.” 

A sharp huff slipped past his lips and he gave her a brazen smile. “Wouldn’t put it past her, though.”

Jane swatted at his knee under the table with a playful hush, a low chuckle heard from him just barely over the gentle tune of the piano on stage. 

“Just be nice, please. Ann can be a little - protective.” She knit her brows, trying to convince herself that’s what was happening. “I promise, we’ll just take a few minutes to talk about a time for me to visit for dinner and we’ll be out of here.” 

She watched him sit back in the chair a bit with another shrug. “Take whatever time you need, as long as this drink you’re talkin’ about is good ‘nough.” 

Before she could even speak to it, she saw Ann approaching from the corner of her eye balancing three drinks in hand with the ghost of a smirk riddling her face. Sliding one off to both her and Frank, she took the seat across from Jane with hands folding to rest her chin on; her drink pushed off to the side. 

Ann waited until Fontaine took a sip of the drink, an approving hum coupled with a slight nod satisfied her enough and she lolled her head to raise a brow towards Jane.

“Guess the poor man’s drink is satisfyin’ enough for the hot shot, huh? Although, I can’t imagine this stuff competin’ with a fifty-dollar bottle lining your shelves.” 

“Ann -” Jane hissed, reaching a foot under the table to knock against Ann’s shin, the other woman’s tone only genuine if they looked past the snark to riddle each word. 

“It’s fine,” Fontaine spoke up. “Can’t go wrong with a bourbon whiskey.” 

Ann lifted herself after swatting away Jane’s foot, a dangerous grin eating away at her features as she turned to Jane then. 

“So, dinner. Instead of us shoutin’ out days an’ times, when the hell are you available next, Jane?” 

Oh, they were getting right into it, “Um, maybe Thursday nights?” 

As they started going on about different days and times, Frank found himself drowning out all details with the warmth of the whiskey settling along his chest. He had sat back in his seat again, one arm crossed with the other balancing the glass in his palm as his attention swept lazily around the room. The music actually wasn’t that bad, a smooth jazz number that barely droned out the other surrounding conversations. The sound all blurred together in a hushed white static and, just for Jane’s sake, he tilted his right knee a bit to bump against her own and settle there. 

She still appeared tense. Even after her shoulders slumped just slightly once she and Ann settled into a seemingly normal conversation about their dinner plans; he couldn’t but notice her hesitation after entering the club before. Hoping his little touches here and there would help her relax, just like they did on the surface, he still saw the little peeks around Ann’s shoulder and back towards another hallway next to the stage. And each time she tilted her head, her words would fumble slightly and chuckles grow a tad more nervous. 

And it wasn’t until another woman, beautiful with cropped hair and a slender frame, finally stepped out from that hallway and onto the floor. Jane shifted to sit completely straight in her seat, shoulders squaring and hands folding on the table. 

“Well, well - look what the cat finally dragged in!” 

Grace waltzed up to the table once noticing Jane, a huge smile on her face and arms extending immediately to pull her and Ann into a hug. 

“Ann had told me what happened, but how is everythin’?” 

Jane stood sheepishly, rubbing a bit at her arm, and tried her best to stand in front of Fontaine so the singer wouldn't notice him right away. 

“Things are good. The new job has been great with a ton of opportunities.” 

Grace’s smile only widened and she reached to grab for Jane’s hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful, honey! I know you were so worried about gettin’ a job down here that you wanted.” Jane felt the woman squeeze her hands in excitement. “So, Ann was a little vague about your livin’ situation. How is that goin’? Where are you livin’ now? I can only assume your new job is rakin’ in the dough and lettin’ you stay at a nice, fancy place!” 

The hesitation must have been obvious as Jane rushed to mutter an, “Um -” with a nervous chuckle to couple it. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you -” 

It was then that Grace noticed the presence behind Jane, tilting her head a little to see around her to the man sitting and enjoying his drink. 

“Well, I’ll be damned. Look who the little mouse brought along with her.” Grace’s tone immediately dropped, along with Jane’s hands as she crossed her arms.  

Jane watched as Fontaine took a sip from the glass, raising a brow towards Grace with attention slow and steadily crawling to the singer. 

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you step a foot down here, Mr. Fontaine.” The growl was evident in her voice as she stood tall next to Jane. “What the hell are you doin’ down in the Drop? Come to buy us out? Turn this all into another Fontaine’s housewares or somethin’?” 

He didn’t respond to her right away, enjoying another sip of the whiskey before setting the glass down in front of him. “I’m with her -” He gave a nod towards Jane. “Was curious ‘bout this place. Figured I’d come down an’ see for myself how much Ryan let this place go to shit.” 

Grace huffed, “What, like you’d do any better?” 

Jane could feel the heat that was slowly crawling up her chest and starting to scorch her throat. 

“And why the hell are you with Jane, anyway? Figured she was an employee, don’t see why you’d be wastin’ her time on a Saturday afternoon.” 

Fontaine kept his cool pretty well if he happened to be boiling on the inside from Grace’s comments. Instead of lashing out with a smart remark, he only shrugged. 

“I’d never waste her time, talked it over last night as she was makin’ dinner an’ she was fine with me comin’ along.” 

Grace’s attention zipped over to Jane standing next to her, and the burn finally ignited her cheeks as she lifted her hands in defense. “You’re livin’ with this asshole, honey?” 

She winced, Grace’s voice going from accusing to a sweet disappointed hush. And coming from a mother figure, it was devastating to hear. 

“I - I am, Grace. But -” She was quick to interject when the singer lifted a brow. “I promise you I’m fine. It was better than living on the streets or bunking in my lab. I’m still paying Fontaine rent, but I’m doing my part around the place, cooking and cleaning - no more than what I’d be doing in my apartment.” 

It didn’t look like she was too convinced, and rightfully so, Grace was a huge support while Jane lived down here. She even extended the offer to work at the Limbo Room as a bartender, a position that made more money than her waitress job at the diner. But Jane couldn’t leave Ann there alone during those busier shifts, couldn’t leave her regular customers behind until she got a job she knew was going to get her closer to being in a lab. And now to hear that she’s living with Rapture’s “most feared tycoon” and “most dangerous businessman” or probably the most dangerous man in Rapture, period? 

But they weren’t… together or anything. She was just living with him and cooking their meals, cleaning the place, doing everyone’s laundry, sleeping in his bed…cuddling almost every night, and…holding hands whenever they got the chance…

Oh no. 

She felt her expression drop at the slow realization as the smirk grew on Grace’s features, not even sparing a glance towards Ann whose own smile was smug, knowing, and a little mean. But, before she could completely lose her composure, Jane took a breath to steady herself. 

“I’m fine. Grateful, actually. Fontaine didn’t have to offer me his space, but he did. And you two don’t have to worry about me, but you do, and I’m grateful for that as well.” 

Grace chuckled. “Dear, this man’s got you wrapped ‘round his finger like he does with the rest of this city. It’s a dangerous game to be playin’ that I’m sure no one wants to watch, especially Ann an’ myself.” 

The sudden frustration overwhelmed her embarrassment and the next inhale was sharp through her teeth. “Grace, I appreciate your concern. But, I can take care of myself; I have been for years. And you know I’d rather be in the safety and warmth of a complex, even if it is Fontaine’s, than out on the streets.” 

“Saftey an’ warmth of his bed, you mean?” 

Jane’s gaze and knitted brows settled on Ann just over Grace’s shoulder, the woman looking scorned as if she was losing her closest friend then and there to a man everyone deemed an enemy. And before things could escalate any further, Jane gave Ann and Grace an apologetic smile before turning back to Fontaine. 

He had been watching her, ready at a moment’s notice to help stand her ground. He knew where her two friends were coming from, but didn’t seem to be giving Jane a chance to explain her safety and gratitude for a roof over her head, at least in a way that would stick. And when she turned to him with the threat of tears brimming her eyes, he was quick to stand. 

“I think we’ve overstayed our welcome. Let’s go, Frank.” 

There was little hesitation as he grabbed for the suitcase, little to no expression or words on his part as Jane started walking past both Grace and Ann. It wasn’t until she was a couple of steps past them when she turned to give as neutral of a smile as she could. 

“If you’d like, Ann, I’m still free next Thursday for dinner at 6.” 

Ann didn’t give much of a response, other than a slight nod as they turned to the entrance of the club. However, it was Grace this time who snagged Fontaine’s shoulder to keep him from following. Jane turned immediately after noticing it out of the corner of her eye, and she was just close enough to hear what Grace started growling to the man.

"I ain’t afraid of you no more than I am of 'ol Ryan.” She started, motioning over towards Jane.“Now that woman right there is a good person, didn't deserve what happened to her. She helped a lot of us out while she was down here, just bein’ the nice an’ generous woman she is. It was a damn shame to hear what happened to her gettin’ bounced out.” Fontaine lifted a brow but was still listening nonetheless. “Now, word spreads fast down 'ere - an' if I catch wind of somethin' bad happenin' to her, that was your doin'? So help me, you are gonna hear from every one of us.” 

It was barely a threat. But coming from people who cared about Jane just as much as Frank did, while the words didn’t scratch deep, they still left a mark. He nodded with a clear, “Yes, ma’am,” and Grace let his shirt sleeve go to follow Jane out, a burning sensation of scorched knives on both their backs with Grace and Ann watching them intently until they disappeared beyond the club’s entrance.

~*~

“I’m sorry.” The words tumbled from her lips as she clutched the suitcase with both hands, adjusting and shifting the growing weight of both the guilt and the bag. 

The huff next to her was soft. “For what?”

“For Ann and Grace. I know how Ann is capable of acting, but not expecting both of them to go as far as they did…” 

She watched shrug in her peripherals, “It’s fine. Told you I could hold my own.” 

“I know…but still - they shouldn’t have said those things.” 

A sudden wave of exhaustion rolled over her shoulders then and she gave up with the bag, dropping it to sit in front of her feet. “I have a feeling Ann’s acting like this especially because she’s afraid of losing me.” 

His hand reached in front of her to take the suitcase, lifting it like it was nothing as he muttered, “Losin’ you to what?” 

“You, probably.” Jane turned to him, “When I lived in the Drop, all I had was James and Ann; and occasionally Grace.” She started to huddle in on herself, arms holding her abdomen. “They were there when I felt lonely, we’d go out almost all the time to dinners when Ann and I weren’t working. James would sometimes come to the market with me since Ann loved to sleep in after a late shift at the diner.” 

The memories were flooding back now and she could see why Ann was practically pleading with her to schedule another dinner and have Jane promise she’d come this time. How she was so defensive and disapproving of Fontaine, even as just another presence there regardless of who he was. Ann using Grace to scold Jane and practically throw Fontaine under the bus. 

“We’re all we have down here.” 

Just before Frank could respond, the Express train pulled up to the station with gears and wheels shrieking against rusted metal. Only a few others had boarded with them at the same time, not too many people in the Drop having a reason to travel up to Apollo Square. Jane was grateful for the light crowd, however, her mind still racing with her friends’ comments and concerns. Along with the realization that Ann might be right in that something was going on between her and Frank. 

He let her take the window seat again as well, giving her a chance to zone out a bit and watch the sea life traversing both above and below the Express car. The suitcase was set between them on the floor but still gave enough space for him to bump her knee with his own and stay to rest against her leg. It was the smallest, most insignificant action, but his proximity allowed this familiar sense of comfort to wash over her and she was calm. 

The rest of the ride was quiet, even the trek from the station back to the complex was without a word, except Frank’s few words of insistence to allow him to carry the suitcase. And Jane was too tired to argue with him. When they did return to the complex, they found that silence had followed as Reggie had taken Jack out to the Farmer’s Market for a bit while they were gone. And as they both trailed up to the bedroom, before Jane could open the suitcase to make sure everything was there; Frank had uttered a soft “Hey,” prompting her to turn to him with fatigue evident along her features. 

“You ok?” 

The simple question pierced her chest, hours of concealing and stomping down the welt in her throat started to rupture the dam and tears immediately brimmed her lower lids. 

“I - I don’t know. I don’t think I am.” 

The words were scratchy against her throat, the pain only causing more tears to well. She didn’t mean to get so worked up over it, but to have Ann turn against her like that, to have Grace say those things - regardless if they were directed towards Fonatine or not - it felt degrading. Like she had disappointed them, some of the most important people to her. 

It was a little unexpected, but she watched him step towards her with arms lifting, reaching to pull her into a hug and she all but melted against him. He was such a solid warmth and she couldn’t help dragging her hands along his back, gripping at the fabric of the vest with tears falling rather silently. And he just stood there, holding her in a silence she didn’t realize she needed at that moment. It was only a few minutes that passed before she already started to feel a little better, more grounded, and she pulled away from him. 

“You should have promised me you’d be able to hold your own down there.” 

The giggle bubbled from her chest as she swiped a finger under her eye to catch a stray tear. 

“I should have, quite honestly.” He met her giggle with a small smile and she turned back to the suitcase on the bed. “But, I was so focused on making sure I got all of this, I didn’t think about any questionable conversations to come up.” 

Frank was just about to ask her what exactly was in the suitcase she was so adamant about retrieving until she opened it to reveal a plethora of lab equipment from beakers to notebooks and sample containers. 

A huff from under his breath, “You know, you could have asked me for more equipment if you needed it.” 

Jane turned to him with a smile lined with a hint of sorrow. “I know, but my mother gave me this kit on my birthday the year she had passed. She said if I used it, all my experiments would be successful.” She chuckled. “Of course, to a 10-year-old, I believed every word. Now…I guess it’s just superstition to use all of this when I do lab work. It helped get me an A in grad school anyway.” 

The coy smirk to lift her lip then only enticed his own and he shook his head. “You gotta promise me that, alright? Spent too much money on this experiment of yours for it to go sour.” 

“I promise,” She beamed, and on instinct, held out her pinky finger towards him. 

And just as she realized what she was doing, astonishment lifted her brows - before she could drop her hand - when he also lifted his pinky to intertwine with hers, as if it was instinct to him as well. 

“Good.” 

~*~

Telling the difference between night and day under the ocean was still something she was trying to become accustomed to, even after living in Rapture for a few years now. And yet, as deep as the city was, just the smallest sliver of light could still turn the inky black waters around them. It wasn’t much, but enough of an indicator that it was day. Even in the Drop, people kept to their routines and schedules. And even when the light of day was something never seen, you could still tell it was morning by the smell of the pancakes at the Fishbowl and freshly brewed coffee in everyone’s hands. 

Now, she had the advantage of living stories above a majority of the city, that much closer to the sunlight casting shimmering rays along the surface. And even though guilt almost plagued her during their entire visit to the Drop yesterday, she still couldn’t help but smile slightly with eyes opening to the soft light filtering through the bedroom windows. 

Sunday. The only day of the week she didn’t bother going into the labs, rather taking to spending the day with Jack, either reading or playing with him. She’s also found that on most Sundays, Fontaine also didn’t bother going into the Futuristics, Fisheries, or even venture to the department store. Rather spending a good bit of time instead in his office. But even a rest day didn’t seem to be too much of a stranger and she’d find him reading to Jack as well or gathered around while she’d be making food for them. 

Speaking of which - 

Jane lifted her head then to peek at the alarm clock on the nightstand, 7:22 - Jack would most likely be up already and she could have breakfast done for the three of them by 8 or so. It was a rare Sunday when she intended on going to the Farmer’s Market, thinking once she got the other two fed, she could be out and back before the afternoon. However, as she started to lift herself to get out of bed and under the tempting clutches of the comforter, there was a sudden tug along her waist and a grunt slipped from her. 

“Where’you goin’?” The question was almost slurred, groggy and she glanced down to see his right forearm wrapping around her waist. 

A huff, “I’m getting up to get Jack breakfast.” 

A longer pause greeted her before another reply. 

“Stay.” 

“Frank -” She gasped, trying to move again in hopes her squirming would be enough. “I can’t. Jack’s probably awake already.” 

The scoff stopped her then. “Jack’s still asleep. Even if he was awake, he’d be readin’ somewhere.” 

“So? Reading and probably hungry.” 

The grip on her waist never relented, and she slumped a bit. “He’s fine. Stay, it’s Sunday.” 

She was about to protest further, debating on attempting to pry his forearm from her and slip away as quickly as she could. Thinking on this, Jane stared forward out the floor-to-ceiling window just on the other side of the bedroom. The morning sun from the surface reached just deep enough for the rays to light the waters around them, creating a sort of shimmering and glittering effect as the currents shifted and swayed. She could vaguely hear a whale’s call in the distance, the overall groaning of the ocean just white noise in the background at this point. And it all felt - peaceful. Still, calm, peaceful, safe. 

It was almost instinctual as she felt herself melt back under the comforter, a sigh she didn’t realize she was holding following her with her head settling back along the pillow. The steady puffs of his breath continued along the back of her neck with her own body almost molding into his, and she couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. 

“What?” The word vibrated from his chest. 

Her shoulders lifted, “I just - can’t get over the fact that you like this. I never would have thought you’d be the cuddling type.” 

The next grumble made her stomach flip, “There’s a lot I bet you don’t know ‘bout me.” 

It took a bit of coaxing, but he let her turn around to face him, their noses practically touching once she was on her opposite side. 

“I bet I could guess a few things about you.” 

He had his eyes closed when she turned over, probably expecting to go right back to sleep once she was settled. But, as she spoke, the smirk to crawl along his lips appeared first, then those startling clear-blue eyes opened to study her. 

“Yeah? Like what?” 

Hands moved to smooth along the side of her silk nightgown, pulling her closer to his front with eyes sliding shut again - assuming she’d start giving some bullshit explanations about what she only thought she knew, what she’s heard from others. Rumors, gossip, etc. 

“I think you’re a man who’s running from something - from the surface.” 

His eyes blinked open again, finding her to be messing with a bit of fuzz on the pillows.

“We’re all runnin’ from somethin’. That’s why we’re down here.”  

Her gaze met his then, those honey-brown eyes that have burned through his very soul on many occasions. A soft hum answered him then, her attention turning back to the pillows to pick at a few loose strings at the edge of the cover’s stitching. And yet, he was probably more curious at this point, wondering what she could possibly think he was running from - and better yet, what was plaguing her enough to suggest something like that. 

Frank lifted his hand from her waist , moving it to tilt her chin up to bring her attention back to him. 

“What do you think I’m runnin’ from?” 

He was going to just go back to sleep. Burying all doubts and fears into her warmth and drift into a light sleep until she’d be elbowing him again to get up. But the look she was giving him at that moment was all too familiar, reminding him of those rare moments they had after one of her shifts at the bar. In those moments, they were the most vulnerable, alone out on that pier with nothing but the waves below them. She’d look at him like she was about to spill her darkest secrets, all her weaknesses, and every lie she’s ever told. It was a trust very few people had in him, a trust he very rarely reciprocated. 

“Well -” She started, “I’ve met guys like you while I was working as a bartender. They all seem as if they’re running from a life they wish they never had. A life that was never satisfying enough, searching for something new and fulfilling.” 

Damn.

“And that woman you mentioned before,” She dropped her attention to mess with the comforter and pick at a loose thread coming undone from its edging. “Running from her, from a life you could have had with her. I heard stories like that a lot, sailors being haunted by something they could never have.” 

There was a hefty pause, the muffled groaning of the ocean around them filling the minuscule space between them before she spoke again. “People may say what they think of you, believe the rumors, but you’re just a man, Frank. A human. I don’t know a lot about you, but I do know you at least have emotions, fears, aspirations.” 

She huffed a weak laugh. “You’re not quite the man I expected you to be.” 

“Is that a bad thing?” 

A soft lift to her lips. “No. You’re a man full of surprises.” 

The chuckle was a little forced, afraid she was going to try and dig a little deeper to get to his past. But the sound lightened the space between them a bit, his hand returning to her hip to pull her closer again as she allowed him. “See, there are some things you don’t know.”

A slight pout caused her bottom lip to protrude out, cheeks reddening a bit at his action and he couldn’t help but cater to her earlier comment. “But, if you gotta know - this little thing we got goin’ on - I don’t seem like the mushy type, but it reminds me of that woman from the surface. I guess the…physicality of her.” 

He looked at her then and saw a strange sort of connection as she tried to mentally piece something together. “Yeah, this all reminds me of my Frank. He usually would spend the most time with me after my shifts, sometimes he’d come back to my apartment and stay the night.” 

“What would you guys do on Sunday mornin’s?” Hypothetically, of course. 

She gave him a side glance before reaching a hand out to trace invisible patterns on the small section of his chest not under the comforter. “We’d do this.” Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. “In each other’s arms, just talking, making promises we knew neither of us could keep.” 

Jane lifted her head then, shifting forward on her own accord with her forehead barely resting against his own. “What about this woman from the surface, did you ever do this with her?” 

Frank’s voice lowered equally, palm sliding up the silk of her nightgown to paw at her waist. “We did. An’ I’d usually have to bribe her to keep her in bed - she always wanted to get up right away.” 

“Bribe her? What would you bribe her with?” 

She felt she already knew the answer. 

“A kiss or two. That would usually convince her enough.” 

The heat along her face bloomed as she noticed his head tilt forward slightly, nose bumping her own and she couldn’t help the sudden smile either. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t attempt to use that tactic on me earlier when I tried getting up.” 

It was quick if she wasn’t paying attention, but the stutter barely heard under his breath told her she must have struck a cord. 

“I can still try, at least to keep you here a little longer.” 

She honestly didn’t think he would, about to call his bluff until she felt the shallow exhale against her skin before confident lips touched hers. She felt her skin ignite with a simmering fire that crawled along through her veins, a sudden row of goosebumps to line her arms in both panic and solace. 

The realization that she’s definitely kissed this man before was incredibly overwhelming. And yet, the familiarity of it didn’t pull her away - a whisper in the back of her head reassuring her this man was safe. 

The reality of it, though, didn’t seem like it could be that easy. Her Frank was dead. And this man? Maybe he was just hazy memories, the ghost of him, following her. Haunting her. 

He separated from her with little space between them before chuckling softly. “You don’t seem too convinced.” 

Her head shook slightly. “No no, I’m just…thinking too much.” 

“Then don’t.” Her heart started pounding when he reached his hand to lift a strand of hair from her face. “Gotta learn not to think too much.” 

The clutch along her chest was the most intense she’d felt in a while, those unsettling blue eyes seeming as if they were boring a hole straight through her - looking straight into her past. She could start to feel her breath shorten, those eyes a maelstrom pulling her in and refusing to let her escape. 

Who are you?!

“Jane -” 

Her name a whisper on his lips pulled her back, eyes focusing again on the man lying in front of her with a curious but genuine look on his face. The quick but feather-light touch of his thumb under her chin brought her closer, and she exhaled a shaky breath. 

“Relax.” 

He brought her lips to his own again, guiding and gentle, encouraging her to give in. His thumb inched up so his palm could cradle her jaw, tilting her head with his movement as the kiss deepened. Jane couldn’t help but melt into his touch, lips finally catching up and moving in tandem with his own, a game of give and take that kept a torturously slow pace. While this was all incredibly familiar, scratching at an itch she’d tried to suppress for years, she couldn’t help but succumb and allow every tense muscle to relax.

“There you go -” The rumble of his voice sent another chill down her spine as he noticed her shoulders slump a bit, “just stay for a little longer.” 

The smile was small as it lifted the corner of her lips. “Promise.” 

“Good.”

The chuckle bubbling from her chest broke the kiss as she scooted closer to intertwine her legs with his own. The slightly scratchy material of his flannel sleep pants rubbed against the bare skin of her legs and knees as he brought her mouth back to his own. 

Time felt like it was irrelevant at that moment, the entire universe squeezed into the minuscule space between them as noses brushed and nuzzled into each other. And they both believed for a few seconds that they were back in Jane’s bedroom on the surface, another Sunday morning before Frank would leave again for another month or so. Dragging each second out as if they would be their last. 

She was almost disappointed to open her eyes and find her to be in Fontaine’s bedroom in Rapture, fathoms and fathoms under the sea. 

His breath was warm along her cheek then, panting a bit, but she was as well. She also noticed the bit of scruff along his face, scratching at her cheek as he pressed another kiss to the corner of her mouth. 

“You wanna get up yet?” The words were soft, whispered and she shook her head. 

Hands wandered from where they had been resting along his chest, shifting around under his arms to encircle his back. And yet, he was so much broader than her, feeling completely engulfed in the man she should be afraid of - like the rest of the city - but couldn’t help the familiarity of knowing she was secure right here. He must have been on the same page, not hesitating to lower his hand not currently nestled under her pillow to rest along her lower back, pulling her flush against him. 

“Why am I not afraid of you?” She more or less muttered to herself, but knew he was going to hear her regardless. 

A huff responded first, his lips to her forehead and she nuzzled into him more. “Didn’t know you weren’t.” He did. 

She rolled her eyes at that. “I’m only stuck here in your bed on a Sunday morning when I should be up getting breakfast for Jack.” 

“Hey,” She felt him shift as if he was looking down at her. “I just asked if you wanted to get up.” 

A shrug. “And I said no, only because I just feel…good here. Safe.” 

“Safe?”

She nodded again into the crook of his neck, smelling faint hints of his cologne she was slowly coming to the realization she couldn’t get enough of. 

“You took me in and let me stay here when you didn’t have to.” She couldn’t stop the instinct to press a soft kiss just under his jaw. “You let me sleep in your bed when you could have easily continued to let me sleep on that cot.” 

Jane felt the pads of his thumb and forefinger against the underside of her chin again as he lifted her face to meet his. “You remind me of her, from the surface.” 

Goosebumps littered her skin then, his voice low and Bronx accent thick with each word. 

“Is that why you’re doing all of this?” 

He was quiet for a moment, blue eyes swimming with a rare vulnerability that changed her mind on everything she thought she knew about this man. 

Fontaine was hiding something, that much was obvious. 

“An’ if I said yes?” 

Her smile caused his lips to quirk for a second. “Then, you’re not quite the man I expected you to be.” 

Another huff shook his chest as he leaned in again to bring her lips back to his own; the softness of her skin and warmth enough to put him in a trance. Neither of them was sure how much time passed them. Jane didn’t insist on peering over his shoulder at his bedside clock and he didn’t bother rolling over so she could squint and try to make out if an hour had passed or not. Each touch and kiss was slow and feather-light, mapping out each other’s skin with wandering hands brushing over scars, callouses, and imperfections both knew exactly where to find them. Frank couldn’t help the breathless gasp when she had separated to place a soft kiss on a freckle just under his jaw, and Jane huffed through the few giggles when fingertips roamed over a spot just above her hipbone that always tickled the most. 

It was as if two halves were becoming whole again. 

~

“So, what should I talk about at the gala?” Jane peered up at him, her head lifting just slightly from where she was lying on his chest, the two having shifted at some point. 

The hum rumbled under her, and the arm that had wound under her head and around to play with a strand of her hair paused for a second. 

“First thing, you gotta be careful talkin’ to Ryan. The man’s good at pokin’ an’ prodin’ when you don’t realize it.” 

Jane drew lopsided circles along his chest, the cotton t-shirt shifting with her careful movements. “What does he want to know?”

Frank chuckled, “Honestly, I was well on my way to bein’ shit-faced, so I didn’t hear much of what the old man was sayin’. Somethin’ ‘bout wantin’ to learn more of the project you’re workin’ on, an’ maybe ‘bout the ocean in general.” 

The hum was quiet as she nodded along. 

“I guess just talk to ‘im ‘bout your project, what you’re plannin’ on doin’ with Rapture’s power grid an’ sustainability.” 

It sounded like it would be easy enough. “And you’ll be there with me?” 

“Yep. Might have to translate for Ryan anyway. Can’t image ‘im understandin’ the details an’ technicalities on the first try.”

A confident warmth bloomed from her chest then at the thought of sitting tall in front of Ryan after having explained her project, the man staring back with glazed eyes trying to shift through the information. While she knew Ryan to be a smart man, it astonished her sometimes about his specific placement of Rapture and how they were miles from a major fault line, not sure if he knew that or not - or if he thought to maybe educate himself about that. And how they were also smack-dab in the center of a major shark migratory path. 

All things she thought he might have considered before deciding to build a city at the bottom of the ocean. He had the basics at least. 

“And what about - um,” She wasn’t sure if asking this next question would be taking things a little too far. “Something to wear?” 

The fingers that had been carding through her hair paused for a second, “Like a dress or somethin’? You don’t have anythin’?” 

Guilty eyes lifted to meet his own and she shrugged her shoulders in on herself. “Do you remember the dress I wore to dinner when you had first offered me the position in the labs?” 

His nod was subtle, “That - actually is the only sort of formal dress I own.” When his brow raised she felt herself start to stumble over her words. “Of course, I can still probably make it work! Dress it up a bit with some jewelry I have, and wear my one good pair of heels -” 

“Jane,” 

“ - maybe find the one bag Ann gave me for my birthday.” 

“Jane.” 

She clicked her jaw shut, gaze wide and curious as she tilted her head up again along his chest to look at him.

“I can get you a dress.” 

Warmth immediately crackled along her skin. “You don’t have to, Frank, really. I - I can make do with what I have. I was just asking to see if it would be appropriate or if I should save a couple of bucks for something new -” 

“Jane - “ Fingers shifted to tilt her chin up towards him, “I can buy you a dress. Don’t worry ‘bout it.” 

“And that’s ok? I mean, I know some dresses I’ve seen in the shops in Apollo Square can be a bit expensive.” 

The smirk to tug at the corner of his lips was telling enough, “Right - second wealthiest man in Rapture. I honestly keep forgetting.” And he could only chuckle at her response, tilting her chin up further to steal her lips in another brief kiss. 

“You need somethin’, all you gotta do is ask.” The words were hushed along her skin with goosebumps rising in their wake. 

There was little hesitation in her next question then as she uttered a confident, “Kiss me again?” 

And how could he say no? 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

She didn’t mean to yelp as loud as she did when a bit of the ADAM from her garden’s container splashed up and onto the floor in front of her. Granted, her placement of a few more seaweed samples could have been done with a gentler hand. But Jane was far too elated with the progression of this project, she couldn’t help the enthusiasm causing the slight shake in her hands.

Over the past several weeks, she had managed to figure out how to “mass produce” some of her plant samples without the nutrients and soil otherwise needed for the foliage to grow naturally. With an ADAM garden or a giant container filled with a few inches of the glowing red substance, she was able to scrape several samples of whatever plant species into the container. Recently, it was mostly seaweed, but with these damaged samples - the ADAM would do its task of repairing and then further duplicating these cells until it created a whole new plant sample. It took some time, but far less than what it would take naturally. And now, working with a few other scientists, she was able to reduce these plant samples into a liquid safe enough to use in a similar system that Ryan uses with magma to run the city. Now, it was just a matter of finding a system of their own to distribute this new fuel source. 

It would either come to stealing Ryan’s ideas or partnering with him somehow to utilize his resources and energy systems. And she had the intention of planting a seed into Ryan the night of the gala, whether Fontaine knew of these objectives or not. It would give him a scapegoat, at least, to ensure the two men’s mutual correspondence

The ADAM cleaned up rather quickly, but the odd pinkish stain it left on the off-white tiling made her pause to examine it for a second. A shrug immediately lifted her shoulders as she moved to throw the rag away in a hazard disposal bin. Just then, a casual knock echoed against her lab’s door and she called to the presence to enter. 

Tenenbaum. Perfect. 

“Hey, Brigid. Just the person I wanted to see.” 

The scientist lifted a brow first to her, then to the container with an already overflowing abundance of seaweed. With hands behind her back, Brigid paced over to where Jane was scribbling some notes on a clipboard. 

“And what was it you wanted to see me for? I came just to check up on you - I heard a shriek.” 

Jane paused her writing, a soft chuckle as she looked up towards Brigid, “Oh, that was me, sorry.” She went back to writing, finishing a train of thought before continuing. “A bit of ADAM sloshed out from the container when I went to add another seaweed sample. I got it cleaned up pretty good though, except for in the tile’s grout -” Jane glanced over to the spot in question with a chuckle. “Just don’t tell Fontaine.” 

The scoff was subtle under the woman’s breath, and Jane had to pause again to confirm if she heard it or not. 

“What?” 

Brigid shrugged, mouth turning in a dramatic frown feigning ignorance. “I wouldn’t worry about Fontaine.” Her voice dipped to mutter. “As a favorite, I don’t think you will get anything more than a slap on your wrist.” 

As a favorite? 

The pencil fumbled from her grasp, and Jane opted to set it on the clipboard before it too ended up on the floor. “What - what do you mean?” 

Her jaw clicked as Brigid shut her mouth, placing both hands in the pockets of her lab coat and she wandered over to the container. Jane watched the other woman, hearing a faint humming echoing back to her and Brigid peeked into her ADAM garden. 

“This project, have you found a system to distribute this energy source yet?” 

Jane felt her posture sag immediately, “Brigid - come on.” Her heart started pounding when Brigid turned to her with an exasperated look, “What’s going on? What do you mean by ‘favorite’?” 

The scientist paced back over next to her, nodding slowly and leaning in to mutter. “There have been…rumors, Jane. Rumors I assume you to know about?” 

Jane straightened her spine as if a bolt of electricity shot up along her vertebrae. “Um, no - actually.” 

Her brow arched instantly, Brigid stepping a little closer until they were practically shoulder to shoulder. Jane appreciated the consideration of privacy but wondered why she had to stand so close in the isolated space of her lab. 

“I supposed I have been just as curious.” She started, “Others are stating that you and Fontaine are - well…together, in some way or another.” 

“Together?” Oh, goodness. A sudden scoff shook her chest, “What - what are people saying? Where are the rumors coming from?” 

“I’m not sure exactly where they are coming from -” Brigid cleared her throat, “But there are…claims of employees watching you go into his office and not coming out for a couple of hours? Leaving for lunch with him - coming back… ’as red as a school girl’, as I’ve heard some mention. Coming and going in his bathysphere?” 

Jane couldn’t help the second huff under her breath, taking a couple of steps away from Brigid and rounding the corner of the table they were standing at. She raked a few fingers through her hair as her chest started to clench, the updo she had spent all this time on in the morning already pulled apart by her anxious hands. Never mind this project and any future steps - and what she was originally going to talk to Brigid about - this was a whole new can of worms she didn’t mean to split open as it did. 

“I just wanted to confirm with you if they were true or not,” Brigid spoke up from across the table. “I understand you to be living with him and possibly entering his office so often to report on this project -” 

“That’s all that is!” Jane turned back to the scientist, throwing her hands in the air with her voice raising. “I know I go to his office a lot, but I have to keep him updated with the progress of all this since he’s funding it.” She dragged her hands through the air, gesturing to the ADAM garden she had set up along with a plethora of plant samples she was still carefully scraping and replacing with mature samples in the garden. 

“Do I go to lunch with him? Yes, maybe a little too often than I should. Do I leave with him? Of course, I live with him. I know I could take the Express, but when I have another more convenient method of getting home -” Jane collapsed onto a nearby stool, both hands clawing through her hair now. “I know how it might look to some, but - that’s not what it is. We’re not…together or anything.” 

Brigid was silent for a second before taking a few steps over towards Jane. “Does Fontaine know that?”

“What?” Her head snapped up to the other woman. “Of course. You ask him the same thing and he’ll repeat what I just said only a little more…pissed off, probably.” 

Another shrug, this time accompanied by a gentle hand on Jane’s knee. 

“Jane, it’s ok. As I said, they’re only rumors.” Brigid couldn’t help the chuckle then. “I also couldn’t believe when I heard someone mention the two of you together - romantically. Fontaine does not appear to be a person capable of such things.” 

Jane didn’t think so either. 

“It’s beyond me.” She looked up to the scientist with a smile, a bit exhausted and forced with her head starting to buzz and ache. “I live with him and I’d be lucky if he showed nearly the same affection he tends to show towards Jack.” 

Brigid hummed, lifting her hand as she paced back over to the ADAM garden. “That was a surprise to me as well. I suppose it is better for the boy rather than him continuing to be subjected to prolonged experiments.” 

Jane watched her as she moved about the space, observing the garden and samples still stretched across one of the lab’s tables. She opened her mouth and for a second, the words fumbled over themselves. “Do you - do you believe any of the rumors though?” 

“If I have no reason to.” Brigid stopped and lifted her attention after picking up a sample dish. “My intention was rather to make you aware of them.” 

“Ah,” Jane nodded, watching Brigid place the dish back on the table and return her hands to her lab coat pockets. 

“Now,” She gave a small smile. “Was there something else you wanted to talk to me about?” 

The air settled around them a bit and Jane shook her head, feeling a sudden need to be alone to think about all of this and she stood. Walking towards the door to her lab, she felt as if everything around her was moving in slow motion. 

“I’m ok, actually. I - um…I forgot what it was I wanted to ask you in the first place.” She opened the door for Brigid as the other woman followed her, rubbing her shoulder as Jane spoke with restraint to her words like she was doing everything to keep herself from crying. “I’ll come ask you if I remember it again.” 

They exchanged smiles, a warmth spreading along her arm where Brigid had her palm on her shoulder. Even if she was potentially losing Ann, Grace, and maybe even James; she had Brigid who seemed to always take her side, even as Jane was presenting her project for funding - officially - to Fontaine and the Futuristics’ board. She was there, standing off to the side, but there with her nonetheless when she didn’t have to be. Jane had already discussed the plan enough with Fontaine beforehand to be confident about it with him plus the board, Brigid was just a comforting presence, as she’s always been. 

And just like that, the warmth dissipated as Brigid left for her lab, throwing another small grin over her shoulder as Jane watched her disappear around the corner. Jane closed her door then, slow and carefully with eyes closing and a long exhale spilling past her lips. She tried to steady her breathing with each careful step back to one of the sample tables that had her clipboard, wondering if she could drown herself in work to forget all that just happened. However, a strong wave of nausea rolled over her, a riptide shaking and rocking her around the room and she found herself stumbling to a nearby stool to collapse on instead. 

Each thought started colliding almost violently, clouding the forefront of her mind as she tried to shift through the sludge of what had just happened. Rumors? How could she be so reckless? She thought that maybe Fontaine was powerful enough, and had a sort of influence that kept people out of his business; even if that included who he interacted with. However, something in the back of her mind was nagging at her to keep things low when it came to going to lunch with him, and her frequent visits to his office. They were all honestly innocent, with the occasional feather-light kisses he’d line her neck with, enticing a stream of giggles as she’d try to swat him away with little effort…

Apparently, people were noticing the flush to her cheeks after she’d leave his office. How they’d spend certainly spend more than an hour at lunch, easily. The realization that she maybe wasn’t hiding things as well as she thought made her sick because nothing was going on between them…right? Nothing should be - at least. As the churning of her stomach rose to her throat, she practically launched herself to the nearest trash can, expelling what was leftover from her lunch with shaking hands clutching the curved edge of the bin. 

She needed to end this. Or do some sort of damage control before things slip too far. 

~*~

“Frank, maybe - maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.” 

He turned to glance at her over his shoulder, a brow raised with a hand still extended to open the bathysphere hatch. 

“An’ you’re just suggestin’ this now?” The smirk to lift the corner of his lips immediately forced her gaze down toward the ground, the inky gray water shifting and sloshing against the grate under their feet. 

Jane shrugged, “I - I’m just saying…I have that black dress from before. You don’t have to go through the trouble.” 

The scoff to brush past his lips caused her shoulders to curl in on herself. “We already talked ‘bout this, Jane.” Frank opened the hatch then, motioning her in before him and she hesitated. “It’s ok. It’s a goddamn dress. It’d be a whole other story if you were askin’ for a few dozen of ‘em.” 

She couldn’t help but nod in agreement, slowly stepping into the bathysphere with a heat starting to burn along the collar of her blouse. Jane had hoped to shut this whole thing down before they even left the complex, but apparently, Frank had to schedule an appointment with the store he planned to take her to - and she’d be damned if she made them late or a no-show. 

But Brigid’s words from earlier kept circling her mind throughout the evening during dinner, while she was getting Jack ready for bed, and while explaining to Reggie where they were in the recent story she was reading to the boy. She wasn’t even sure Frank knew anything yet, or if anyone would have the guts to tell him in the first place. There was another sickening feeling that she’d have to be that person, and have to keep her mouth shut long enough until after this appointment. 

At least they were traveling somewhere within Rapture where it was less likely for someone to know about these rumors. It had the potential to promise her a couple of hours of mental peace. 

About 15 minutes later, the bright pulsating lights of the upper class started cutting through the natural debris floating around in the ocean, flooding the bathysphere with a neon glow and flashing colors. And she couldn’t help but stare, unashamed, as they approached the docking station. 

Apollo Square was this grand plaza in Rapture that housed some of the most extravagant shops and businesses. A place she’d never dream of herself going to regularly to shop for clothing or necessities, especially along the High Street. Now, Apollo Square was like the Farmer’s Market as the extravagance of it started to fade and just become the norm. And yet, that didn’t mean she still wasn’t in awe of the Square and what could be found there from time to time. This such occasion one of those rare opportunities to enter a shop she’s only passed by with a longing second glance. Probably one of the most high-end clothing shops in the Square with price tags where she had to do a double take as she passed by the window countless times before. 

Seemingly, this place was also where Frank gets his tailored suits for both himself and Reggie. A regular customer and the woman manning the shop never hesitated to greet them both as they entered, the glass doors smooth and quiet as they swept closed behind them. 

“Right on time! What can I help you find today, Mr. Fontaine?” Her voice had a nice soft lilt to it, very pleasant to listen to, and eased Jane’s nerves a bit as she was just a touch out of her element here, that and she somehow expected the woman to immediately be suspicious of her. The sparkling and welcoming look in her eyes said otherwise. Jane was just another customer. 

“Lookin’ for an evenin’ dress for my plus one here, Ryan’s havin’ another gala this weekend.” 

The woman turned to Jane with a smile, blue eyes twinkling from the numerous chandeliers decorating the ceiling. “Of course! Here at Luxe Label, we make some of the finest evening wear in Rapture. What did you have in mind, dear? For a dress?” 

Jane shrugged her shoulders in on herself a bit, a sheepish grin to couple the action, “I’m not sure, honestly. I don’t own a lot of formal dresses.” 

“That’s alright!” The woman, Lottie was the name on her tag, clasped her hands together in excitement. “We specialize in tailoring clothing and fitting pre-purchased formal wear, but we also have plenty of evening dresses to choose from as well.” She started walking towards the back of the store, turning to wave Jane and Fontaine to follow. 

Sleek black marble tiling cut through the rest of the shop with a few velvet evergreen ottomans scattered neatly along the center of the floor. Very few racks lined the walls with dresses and suits adorning gilded mannequins, and if there was anything Jane’s ever learned about high-end shops; it was the less there was to sift through on clothing racks, the more expensive the place was. 

The shorter woman had also stopped at one point to sort through a few dresses of varying colors. 

“Now, which color are you thinking of, my dear? Maybe something black, or navy blue?” Lottie pulled out a couple of dresses in a few different colors and motioned Jane to stand near an empty rack for her to start collecting dresses for her to try. “What about the length, something short or longer? Something a little more modest or don’t we mind?” 

Jane circled her arms around her waist, completely out of her element as her head swirled with the different options. “Um - what do you suggest? I’m open to whatever you might think will work.”

The grin overtook the woman’s features suggesting that customers didn’t give her such freedom often, and she paced to another rack to grab a few more dresses. 

“In that case, I’m thinking maybe an A-line dress, something to show off the curves you have, dear.” Lottie started organizing the dresses she had collected as she started talking out loud to herself. “Long or short, you’re a bit taller - both would look nice.” She gathered an armful together and waved for Jane to follow her to the dressing rooms. 

“Now, don’t worry if some of these dresses don’t fit. We keep the sizing as standard as we can to allow for adjustments when you find the right one.” 

Lottie brought her to a small section towards the very back of the shop that had a couple of privacy screens for her to change behind. And, sooner than later, had her already trying the first of several dresses. It was a gorgeous black dress that fell just above her feet, the sleeves sat along her shoulders, giving the bust of the dress a beautiful sweetheart look. But, as Lottie worked on zipping up the front of the dress and tightening it a bit with pins, nothing else really thrilled Jane about it. 

“You don’t look too happy about this one, dear.” The woman pointed out, smoothing out the back of the dress that trailed out a bit behind her.

“I don’t know. I like black, but the one semi-formal dress I have is already black -”

The reassuring grin was quick to reflect from the mirror Jane had been swaying side to side in front of. 

“Ah, looking for something a tad different?” 

Jane nodded, her smile small and grateful at how attentive Lottie was. If she had to do this by herself, she’d already be a sobbing mess on the floor of some dressing room elsewhere. She didn’t think she could handle both the rumors that had been going around and dress shopping by herself in one day. 

“Well, you’re in luck then!” Lottie started undoing the zipper of the dress, “I’ve got a few more in red, navy blue, some softer blues -”

And she wasn’t kidding. They spent the next hour or so going through all the dresses Lottie had picked out, narrowing a few down on what Jane started to notice that she liked and didn’t like with the fit and coloring. Even after showing a few to Fontaine, his subtle expressions and feedback weren’t helping, but giving Jane an idea - 

“What about green? A short A-line in green?”

Lottie pursed her lips. “With the sweetheart neckline and sleeves?” 

Another nod and Lottie was quick to excuse herself to the shop's backroom. Jane stood in front of the mirror, a familiar aspect now as she tilted her head to study the dress she was currently wearing. It was a navy blue number that glinted a bit with a slight slit going up the right leg. She wasn’t a huge fan of it but had to steel herself when she noticed the not-so-subtle brow raise from Fontaine when she had gone out to show him. She wondered if there would be any more gala’s she’d be invited to in the future, maybe keeping this dress in mind - certainly, she wouldn’t wear the same dress twice. And even with the hefty price tag, she could work on saving a bit herself to come back for this at some point. 

Of course, all thoughts of the dress she was currently wearing were thrown out the window when Lottie returned with another dress hung over her arm. And the look on her face must have been telling enough that this one might be exactly what she was looking for. 

As Lottie helped her to change and slip on the new dress, it was a tad large with a few extra pins added along the back to help give her an idea of the fit after tailoring; but it was perfect nonetheless. A gorgeous forest green with silk fabric that shimmered a bit in the light with a fitting A-line shape and the sweetheart neckline she was looking for. The smile was slow to crawl across her features as Lottie helped her from the platform she had been perched on, the two of them walking out to where Fontaine was to get a third opinion. The happiness evident on Jane’s face must have been infectious, a similar smile drawing lazily on his own as he sat forward from the otherwise relaxed position he had been leaning back in. 

“Now, it’s a little big,” Lottie started, smoothing out the few wrinkles from the dress hanging in their inventory. “But it’s nothing a bit of tailoring can’t fix.” 

Lottie stood back to allow Jane to side-step to a nearby mirror. She twirled around in it a bit, watching the fabric move and fall to settle around her calves. It was the perfect length and she beamed at how elegant she felt with the sleeves dropping from her shoulders and the luxurious feel of the fabric. Rumors be damned, she looked good. 

“Do you like that one?” Fontaine had spoken up from behind her, and she nodded at his reflection in the mirror with a shy smile. “How much is this one, Lottie?” 

The woman reached for the tag that was strung up next to the zipper of the dress. “This one is a clearance dress at sixty. The tailoring might be another forty or fifty, depending on how much needs done. Otherwise, it’ll be about a hundred or a hundred and ten.” 

Jane’s eyes boggled at the final price, however, Fontaine didn’t bat an eye. “Sure, that’s fine. If she likes this one.” 

“A-are you sure?” Jane turned and busied her hands by adjusting the sleeves a bit. 

The smirk was a tad unfair as he nodded to Lottie and the woman took no time in grabbing a measuring tape and notepad to take Jane’s measurements. Once she had everything she needed along with the dress now hanging behind the front desk with a “tailor” tag pinned to the front, Lottie wrote a receipt for the dress and potential tailoring work. 

“I’ll call as soon as it’s done with the final price. The work itself should take me around two days, otherwise, I’ll ship it to the complex.”

“We’ll have it before the gala on Saturday?” 

Lottie hummed a confirmation. “Absolutely. I’ll be sure to have it ready and mailed before then.” 

“Great.” He pocketed the receipt, clearing his throat then once he noticed Jane’s gaze still strung on the dress behind the counter and she startled. “Thanks again, Lottie.” 

The woman waved to them as they started leaving. “Anything for my best customer!” 

As they exited the store, Jane had to pause for a second to look back with brows furrowed. Did he just do that? Spend a hundred dollars on her? Spend any money on her that wasn’t handing her a few extra bucks for groceries? So much for shutting all this down. 

She didn’t stay to ponder for long as Fontaine was already on his way back to the bathysphere docking station, the Square a little calmer now than it had been when they first arrived. It took a few strides until she was pacing next to him again, giving him a slight side glance as she wrung the strap of her purse. 

“You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.” 

Fontaine shrugged, hands finding his pockets. “I know, but it’s barely a dent in my wallet. So, why not?” He turned to give a quick wink and Jane felt the flush immediately along her face. 

“Barely a dent, huh?” 

The scoff was playful, and he lifted a hand from his pocket to hook a finger around her own. The Square was on its way to being empty, so why not? Jane sighed under her breath, eyes shutting for a brief moment to will away the returning nausea. Eventually, two of her fingers that were holding his own shifted so her palm could open to welcome the warmth of his hand. If this was wrong, if the rumors sounded so accusing and mean, why did the simple comfort of just holding his hand alone feel so right?

It felt as if she was riding a high as they boarded the bathysphere, her hand separating from Frank’s as he input the code back to Mercury Suites. The glitter and gold of the Square faded behind them as they ducked beneath the docking station, and yet the flurry of neon reflecting off the ocean debris caused the waters around them to sparkle. While the whole experience was something she never thought she’d be taking part in on a Tuesday night, it wasn’t horrible. There was a sense of enjoyment and satisfaction from it she never really experienced throughout her life, and of course, peace from her whirring thoughts. 

On the surface, Jane’s family wasn’t super wealthy, but rather well-off until her mother passed. For a while, when it was just her and her father, things were tight financially until her father finally made it up to the ranks he was promised at his new job. But, even when she was little, begging for those shiny new pair of fishing boots; it was an expense her parents just couldn’t afford. Opting for used, but spruced-up clothing, fishing gear, and houseware items. And she was just used to it as such luxuries became so foreign. 

Over the years, she also deemed herself unworthy of such expensive items. If she was able to get as far in life without these luxuries, why should she be treated to them now when she didn’t need them? However, something about the gilded accents of Rapture, the privilege of wandering into a shop up along High Street, and the second wealthiest man in Rapture intertwining his fingers with her own brought on a sense of why not. And she couldn’t help herself but play along, even if it still just felt…off, wrong.

And as they returned home to the complex, Jane kept her mouth shut for the rest of the evening. What he didn’t know right now wouldn’t hurt him, even if it was eating her alive. 

~

The dress was delivered to the complex within two days, as Lottie had promised. Jane was starting to feel the anxiety claw at her chest the closer it got to the gala and the longer she was without it. Wondering if it was going to fit even with the alterations and if it was possible to get things fixed if the sizing was still off - and have it by Saturday. Frank, however, kept reassuring her that Lottie took her measurements and the woman rarely ever screwed up an alteration. She essentially had nothing to worry about. Of course, Jane’s father - and even Ann - both crowned her the queen of worrying at some point. So it was rather inevitable. 

But, once she had the package upstairs and the dress laid out, she felt the elation return and spread to every limb with a vibrating warmth. It looked even more beautiful since she’d seen it in the shop, a card from Lottie included in the box wishing her the best at the gala and that she hopes Jane enjoys the dress. Quickly changing out of the pants and blouse she had worn at the labs, she took no time to slip on the dress, calling Frank to come help her with the zipper. He was in his office with the door open, and she heard the creaking from his office chair before seeing him enter the doorway. His eyes grew wide once he saw her in the dress, and she waved him forward with a slow twirl to show her predicament with the zipper. 

“I can’t reach it.” She pouted, bottom lip protruding as he strode towards her with a grin. 

“I gotcha.” 

Jane felt him struggle with the zipper for a second, trying to get a good grip on the small plastic, until the purring sound of success crawled along her spine and the zipper was eventually snug, secure, and closed. Frank softly patted her back to signal she was good, and Jane took no time to pace over toward the mirror next to her wardrobe with a chirp of delight. It fits perfectly. 

“So,” She turned again toward Frank, the fabric twirling with her movement. “How does it look?” 

The grin to lift his lips was speckled with adoration, “Looks good. The dress doesn’t look half-bad either.” 

Jane couldn’t hide her smile quickly enough, the flush creeping along her face reaching her ears and singeing them. She twisted around back to the mirror to admire the dress and simple details here and there, hoping to conceal the pink to her cheeks. She checked over the bodice of the dress then, noticing very faintly where Lottie did the alterations, and started humming to herself in thought. 

Fingertips brushed along her collarbone, feather-light, and she mumbled, “Maybe I could wear some gold jewelry with this, style my hair up a bit - I think I have a nice pair of heels as well…” 

She also apparently didn’t notice how Frank had been pacing up behind her, appearing over her shoulder almost out of nowhere. “I can getcha whatever else you need, if you want.” 

His gaze trailed head to toe at her reflection with the words dripping from his lips in a low and hushed timbre. She didn’t even register what he had said, too busy watching the interesting glint to catch his steel-blue gaze, and she started to nod in agreement until - 

“Wait, what - oh, no, no that’s fine. You don’t have to do that. I - I’m pretty sure I have something.” 

The brow raise was immediate, a smirk sharp along his features and she saw his hand’s movement before feeling the gentle weight along the small of her back. 

"Remember what I said the other day? If you need anythin’, just ask?” 

Jane forced a smile. “I remember, but I don’t need any new jewelry, Frank. I probably have a necklace and earrings in my jewelry box somewhere.” 

The hand along her lower back moved to tug at her waist, turning her to face him as his grip circled her waist. “You know, it’s no dent in my wallet to getcha somethin’.” 

Her palms settled along the front of his button-down with fingertips skating the edges of his suspenders. “I know, but you don’t have to.” 

“What if I want to?” 

Her brows knit, gradually lifting her attention to those stormy-blue eyes. 

Why? 

She knew his next slow and subtle movement was meant to reassure - and maybe answer her question, head tilting down to nose along her cheek with lips just inches from her own. And while she leaned in the same time he did, instinct clouding her thoughts, Brigid’s voice pierced the fog slowly obstructing her consciousness. 

If nothing was going on between her and Fontaine, why was he doing this? Why did it seem like he was only doing certain things just for her?

Before she could feel the shallow press of his lips against hers, Jane halted his movements with her hands still pressed to the front of his shirt, tugging her head back from him just slightly. A pit started opening up in her gut, swallowing the moment whole in an immense sense of guilt and apprehension. 

This still wasn’t right. 

“What’s wrong?”

Jane opened her mouth to speak, but the words failed to leave her tongue for a second. 

“Why - why are we doing this?” It was now or never. And she had already struggled to keep her mouth shut for two days, thinking she could keep all this buried forever. 

The perplexed twist of his features met her unease and his head tilted. “Doin’ what? You don’t like this?”  

“What?” She felt the pit drop, settling like a thousand-pound weight, “N-no I do, just - why?”  

His face lifted a bit, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips with a soft chuckle brushing past them. “Jane, I’ve told you why -” 

“No, just - urgh -” Jane pried herself away from him as the bewilderment started bubbling over, his hands slipping from her waist. “I just don’t understand .” She took a few steps back with the guilt turned frustration clawing at her chest.” All of a sudden we’re doing this and - and…I don’t even know you, Frank. I don’t know where you’re from on the surface, or what you did before…you - you were just this person I only ever heard about on the radio or in the Tribune. And then, all of a sudden, you were my boss, then I guess my landlord, now this?” 

He moved to shove his hands into his pockets, face rather unresponsive and neutral as he listened. 

“I - I’m not saying I don’t like this, what’s happening,” Jane gripped at her arm to try and calm her sudden string of nerves. “It just seems like it’s out of nowhere.” 

Frank was still quiet, blinking slowly as she talked and rattled through her thoughts. 

The sigh had lodged itself in her chest before pouring from her lips, “People are starting to spread rumors, Frank.” Her tone dropped to almost a whisper. “And I don’t want this - whatever this is - to ruin your reputation or this project.” She paused with attention down towards the slightly scuffed flooring around her toes. “Brigid was even asking me earlier this week if the rumors were true, but I didn’t even know what to tell her - I lied to her - because I don’t even know if it’s real or not.” 

The words were muttered quickly after, “You don’t think it’s real?” 

“And you do?” Her attention snapped up towards him again. 

The silence was sudden and thick, like a briny sludge, and Jane tried so desperately to not convince herself the expression he wore was one of honest shock. 

“What’s happening, Frank?” She finally spoke up again, wading through the stillness. “Why did you let me stay at your complex? Why do you let me sleep in your bed, trust me with Jack, and - and why do you treat me like you do? Like you care about me?” 

His scoff was surprising and a little mean, no less a mask for his confusion, “Am I not allowed to?” 

“No, I’m not saying that - “ Jane sputtered, trying to sort through her neverending train of thoughts as she finally turned away from him. She took a few steps towards the mirror as she tried to invest her attention in the dress she was still wearing, hoping to derail him and the conversation at some point just so she could sort through everything. 

“You’re just…you’re this heartless tycoon, this ruthless businessman who has whoever he wants under his thumb at all times. A stone-faced industrialist with a foot in almost every business and wouldn’t hesitate to put any competitor into the ground.” 

“Is that comin’ from you, or the rest of Rapture?”

Jane turned back to him, exhaustion pulling at her features. “Frank -” 

Fontaine held up a hand, “No, I’m serious. ‘Cause if I’m this “big, bad wolf” to the rest of Rapture - I don’t give a damn. The Tribune, or whoever can call me whatever the hell they want, an’ say whatever the hell they want ‘cause it ain’t gonna do shit to my reputation.” 

“But, if that’s comin’ from you -” 

“It’s not.” She was equally as quick to interject. “I…I don’t see you to be the monster the rest of Rapture sees you as.” 

Jane watched him take a few steps toward her, and he hesitated for a moment before holding a hand out to her again. She looked at it for a few solid seconds, debating with herself on giving him what he wanted when he hadn’t even answered a single question she posed. She didn’t know Fontaine but somehow convinced herself she knew him enough to place her hand within his own. To trust the warmth of his grasp as he brought her back against his front with her free hand careful and light along the fabric of his shirt. 

His breath slowed with a deep exhale. “You wanna know why? Wanna know why I act like I do ‘round you, why I wanna spoil you, let you stay at my place, sleep in my bed, trust you ‘round Jack?” 

Jane nodded, the movement small as her gaze trained up towards him, silently pleading for an answer she felt she already knew.

“It’s ‘cause I like you.” He all but whispered. “Thought that’d be obvious but considerin’ who I am, I can’t blame you for questionin’ things.” 

His voice was almost muffled, sounding as if she was underwater, that fuzzed gurgling around her ears with the confession barely registering at first. 

“You - what?” 

The smirk softened a bit around the edges, “I like you, Jane.” He leaned in closer, his voice hushed. 

Gradually, the storm swirling around in her head began to calm. Still, many questions and anxious thoughts brewed, but the gentle look he was giving her then caused something to short-circuit. 

“You like…me?” Jane didn’t mean the gasp to sound as bewildered as it was, at least wanting to retain some level of control over her flurry of emotions. “The nerd, the scientist, possibly the least pretty woman walking around down here?” Nevertheless, her lips quirked as she spoke, trying to convince herself he was lying out of his ass. 

He clicked his tongue, “Least pretty?” Frank’s gaze immediately dropped towards her dress. “Doll, I’m gonna have you quit workin’ with all that ADAM if it’s messin’ with your eyesight.” 

The giggle was abrupt but natural, and she felt the fluttering in her stomach intensify. “Come on, I’ve seen prettier women, Frank. Now, whether or not they’re more intelligent is beyond me -”  

His chuckle resonated within the small space between them as he hooked his hands behind the small of her back. Frank ducked his head forward again to nose along her cheek. 

“You’re both, Jane. Whether you see it or not. Didn’t expect to meet someone like you down here, but I don’t think I could give you up so easily now that I have.” 

A hum, “Is it because I remind you about that woman from the surface?” 

The pause went on for a little longer than she thought before he sighed. “A bit. But - I haven’t seen her in over a decade. She could have changed, done a complete one-eighty for all I know.” 

She hadn’t, he thought immediately after. Even after a decade, the Jane standing here in front of him hadn’t changed a bit. 

"Guess I gotta type though.” 

A heat bloomed across her face then, the smile budding and shy as she leaned a little closer into him. 

“And how do you know if I feel the same, or like you back?” Jane brushed her nose against his own, throwing all previous caution to the wind. He felt like a drug at this point, and she couldn’t pull herself away no matter how hard she tried. No matter the rumors, the conflicting feelings. The one thing she was certain of, at this moment, was the pounding still evident in her chest and rapid fluttering in her stomach.

“I’m not someone to jump right into things.” 

“Then we go slow, at your pace.” He muttered. “An’, no offense, but I feel if you didn’t like me, even a little, you wouldn’t be tryin’ to kiss me right now.” 

At that, she leaned away - only slightly. “You’re right.” Steel-gray eyes snagged her own. “What would you do then? At my pace? Slow, careful, courteous -” 

She felt the hum vibrate from under her palms along his chest and his next words were gentle. 

“Let me buy you some jewelry for this weekend, to go with this new dress.” 

It was only to tease, but she tilted her head in thought with a quizzical hum of her own to purse her lips. Watching his expression go from one of accusation to subtle but unmistakable adoration, she couldn’t say no. 

“Alright.” Her head tilted forward with lips and breath ghosting across his own. “But only for this weekend. Don’t want to make the rumors worse and have people claim I’m only hanging on your arm for the money.” 

His smirk accompanied an exasperated huff, “We wouldn’t want that now would we?” 

Another smart remark perched itself on the tip of her tongue, but before she could utter anything more, she felt the almost feverish press of his lips to her own. And, without fail, her body immediately melted into his, fingers raking at his shirt for anything to find purchase on to ground herself. 

How dare he. 

How dare he tug at her heart like this. How dare he confess emotions that she, and Brigid, thought he’d never be capable of feeling. How dare he write off these rumors that had her worried for his reputation and the success of her project, that had her dry heaving into her lab’s trash can after Brigid had told her of these rumors. The guilt, the concern, the anxiety that had been eating away at her over the past few days, trying to find solace and distraction in the appointment to get this dress; fighting with herself at 2 in the morning on when and if she should even tell him of the rumors. She didn’t know how he’d respond and if she honestly wanted to be in the front seat to his temper. How dare he surprise her like this and disregard these rumors, jumbling her thoughts regarding his confession and how seriously she should take these rumors as well. 

The weight of his palm along her jaw focused her attention immediately back to this moment, a smirk quirked his lips then with a puff along her lips. 

“You know, I’m thinkin’, Doll - you wanna have fun with these rumors. Play into ‘em a little?” 

Hmm, she panted, trying to catch her breath. Why not?  

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

The boisterous crowd of people was already spilling out from the entrance to the Cocktail Lounge, swarming the area of the Lower Atrium and the Southern Mall. The series of roving lights and flashes of color from numerous neon signs decorating each shop and casino was already a grand spectacle in and of itself, and he couldn’t tell if Jane was enthralled by the sights, or over everything already. She had already voiced her nervousness and apprehension several times on their way over and as they ventured through the Atrium. And he repeated the same reassuring words over and over, anything to turn her mind around and to not be nervous. Otherwise, he’d have a hell of a time trying to explain to Ryan she decided to duck out last minute. 

He supposed he’d have to make the evening up to her somehow. And if her alcohol tolerance from the surface was still something she could brag about in her thirties…

Frank was also mulling over with himself why Ryan chose the Cocktail Lounge of all places, the bar was small and cramped, especially with a good few dozen people spilling out its doors already. And yet, they still managed to get through to the bouncer, present their invitations, and squeeze through the doors with no problems. He also didn’t hesitate to give Jane his arm just for her to hang onto, in case the crowd ended up swallowing her, and she was adamant about keeping her grasp tight along the fabric of his suit jacket even when inside. 

“It’s ok.” He leaned over to mutter. “It’s a small place. Don’t worry ‘bout gettin’ lost or separated.” 

Wide eyes peered up at him, the slight gold along her eyelids shimmering, catching the glinting light from the chandeliers hanging above. 

“I feel as if getting lost is the least of my worries…” Her voice was soft, barely heard above the drunken laughter and music flowing from a jukebox in the corner somewhere. 

Frank huffed, a smile tilting his lips. “You’ll be fine.” 

On the way over to Fort Frolic, she had almost talked his ear off about her list of worries and concerns about the night. If she was dressed too formally, not formal enough. If the jewelry he had gotten for her looked alright with the dress, what shoes to wear, and if her hair looked ok. 

He’d give her the credit though, she looked stunning, compared to her usual dressed-down state he was so used to on the surface, and now down in Rapture. Dawning a pair of gold earrings and a necklace all inlaid with pearls, striking red lipstick, and a carefully composed updo; he was honestly more concerned about some drunk low-life trying to sweet talk her home. Of course, he assumed she knew better than that, but with a tight gala location like this, anything was bound to happen.  

Especially with the numerous sets of curious eyes leering their way and the mysterious woman hanging on Fontaine’s arm. It’s not like he wasn’t prepared for this to happen, the sharp accusing gaze lined with ice a natural expression at this point. And people were all the more swift to look away the moment he’d snag their attention. Luckily, Jane didn’t seem to notice the extra observation circling them and Frank was quick to suggest they get a drink now before sitting down to an hour or so conversation with Ryan. 

Her answer, with little hesitation, led him to start their choreographed side-stepping around groups of Ratpure’s elite with their glasses already half-empty. 

Not too soon after both finally had a drink in hand, did the big shot finally decide to show himself like a phantom emerging from a haze. 

“Ah, there you are, Fontaine.” Andrew Ryan’s attention immediately snapped to Jane and a grin twisted his lips. “And you must be Miss Hartley. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

Shit. Frank glanced down towards Jane whose eyes boggled at him for a brief second before side-eyeing Ryan. He gave the slightest nod and she whipped her head back to greet Ryan with a polite smile. 

Forgot that little detail. 

“Mr. Ryan, the pleasure’s all mine.” She reached a hand out to shake, and Ryan took it with excitement just barely concealed under his composed mask. 

After Ryan dropped Jane’s hand, he nodded to both drinks in their hands. “It looks like the both of you found the bar as well.” His smile appeared a bit forced towards Fontaine. “Good. Before we settle into our conversation for the evening, I need to have a quick discussion with another guest of mine.” His attention immediately shifted towards Jane. “It shouldn’t take any more than a few minutes.”  

“Take your time, Andy.” Frank almost interjected, a hand reaching out to tug at Jane’s elbow. “We’ll find a table.” 

Ryan glanced down at the subtle action and nodded along, a brow slightly raised before he politely excused himself back into the horde of people. Frank didn’t take another second and started pulling Jane along to find a table somewhere, knowing she was going to start asking questions immediately about her apparent new last name.  

“Frank?” She huffed behind him, trying to keep up as they weaved between smaller cocktail tables and groupings of people. “Frank, what - what the hell was that?” Jane was finally able to scurry up next to him. 

It wasn’t easy finding an empty table that didn’t already have a few other people sitting at it. But there was a free booth, after they did a circle, back near where the bar was. A nice window overlooking the ocean floor and the jukebox just on the other side of the wall the booth was smushed between. He led Jane into the booth first, taking the spot next to her and a sip of his whiskey before responding to her earlier question. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He turned to meet a very exasperated expression etched on her face, a brow turned up and painted lips in a line. The chuckle dripped from his mouth at the sight. “Had to keep some of your privacy. It’s just a little white lie.”

Her honey eyes rolled with the ghost of a smirk tugging on her features, “But why Hartley?” 

“That was the last name of your guy on the surface, right?” He took another sip from his glass, “Thought it’d be a name Ryan wouldn’t be familiar with.” 

She hid her smile with the rim of her wine glass, “Would have been nice to know that ahead of time.” 

The shrug was nonchalant, his knee bumping her own from under the table and she was quick to lower her hand and swat at it. However, her touch was feather-light, playful; and he bumped her knee again, this time keeping it there to rest against the silk fabric of her dress with a not-so-subtle side glimpse. 

He honestly couldn’t keep his damn eyes off of her, stealing glances the entire evening thus far, and they hadn’t even been out for more than an hour or two at this point. Back at Luxe Label, he almost suggested going with the dress she had tried at one point, the navy number with the side slit running up her thigh. And yet, when she walked out in that green ensemble, the glow that settled along her skin and light to illuminate her eyes was all telling; he didn’t even need to ask her if she loved it. And now, with the dress, jewelry, and makeup to tie it all together; she looked as bewitching and gorgeous as the ocean itself. 

“You’re staring again.” 

Frank blinked, “No I’m not.” 

The smile splintered slowly across her lips, and honey eyes turned down to where his occupied hand rested along the table close to her own. The condensation was already evident against the glass sitting loosely in his grasp, and her attention lifted back up to his unwavering gaze. 

“You’re staring, Frank. It’s fairly obvious.” 

“I’m just lookin’.” He took another sip. “Admirin’.” 

“Admiring what?” Her smile was coy, and he was using all restraint the whiskey wasn’t already robbing him of to not kiss the quirk from her lips. 

“You. Kinda hard not to when you’re all dolled up.” 

 The pink on her cheeks was subtle under the powder already dusted carefully along her features. “Frank, I didn’t think I had to tell you to be good.” She hissed. “You’re supposed to be sober enough to help me answer any questions Ryan might have.” 

His brows knit, the warmth from the alcohol already settling along his chest and something stirring at the ‘be good’ comment. “I’m not drunk - not yet at least.” Frank lifted a hand to swipe his thumb and forefinger under and against her chin. “But don’t worry, I’m not gonna leave you high an’ dry with Ryan.” 

Jane tilted her head back at the contact, but not without the smile returning for a split second. The smile bloomed into a full-on grin with her attention zipping up and beyond Frank, and he also turned to see Ryan standing at the table with his drink in hand. 

“Sorry to keep you two waiting,” He took the empty seat of the booth across from them, his hands folding and spine straightening. “Servers are wandering around with entrees, hopefully, you both have the opportunity to sample everything before you leave.” 

He didn’t even let them respond before immediately directing his attention to Jane, and Frank felt his shoulders square instantly at that. 

“But, you’re not here for the entrees,” The man’s mustache curled with his smile. “Miss Hartley, I had requested your presence to discuss with you your recent project at the Futuristics; with Fontaine’s permission, of course. 

Ryan hardly gave Fontaine a sideglance, but Frank nodded anyway with a scoff hidden under his breath. Jane held up a hand to speak then as well. “Um, you can call me Jane, Mr. Ryan. I don’t care too much about formalities.” 

“Of course, Miss Jane.” Ryan gave his most respectful smile and Frank lifted the glass to his lips to avoid a physical gag at the fake showmanship. 

Oh, please, if he was going to be dealing with this throughout the entire evening, he was going to need those servers on call with refills. There was a narrow glare thrown over to him at some point from Ryan when he lowered his glass and still couldn’t shake the shit-eating smirk on his face. 

Be good, Jane had told him. But, where was the fun in that? 

“Now,” Ryan started, swirling his drink in his glass with attention on Jane. “I could ask about your background, however, I’ve been told you have a Masters in Marine Biology from the surface and I more than trust your expertise about this field and project you’ve been working on.” He took a careful sip with eyes glancing towards Fontaine as if challenging him that he’d need to do most of the talking instead. 

Fontaine could spot a condescending tone from across the room, even in a place as cramped as this. While Ryan seemed to have been genuinely intrigued at the last gala about Jane’s project, sitting across the table from her must have kicked the assumption to the forefront of his mind. How could a pretty face like this possibly know a lick about lab work, the ocean, and its life surrounding them on the daily? 

However, Jane - ever the professional - must have caught on to the man’s split attention, and no doubt the patronizing tone, and Frank could sense she was going to go right for the gullet. 

“Of course, Mr. Ryan -” She cleared her throat and Frank gave another encouraging bump to her knee to not hold anything back. “We’ve been testing the ADAM recently, as well as studying the Nudibranchia and their overall natural habitat - where do they live, what are their food sources, reproductive patterns, and so on.” Ryan’s eyes rolled back over to Jane as she started talking, and Frank had to hold the shake in his chest from the concealed laughter. “But, while doing these studies, I was curious to start testing the effects of ADAM on hydrophytes, or macrophytes if you will, and found that the Chlorophyta macroalgae was behaving very curiously when scrapped or as its cells were damaged. And we discovered that the ADAM duplicated its cell growth!” 

Ha! Show off. 

The look on Ryan’s face almost caused Frank to choke on his next sip of whiskey, the man sitting with features frozen but eyes swimming with uncertainty and misunderstanding. 

“But,” Jane ran the tip of her middle finger along the rim of her glass to clean off any residue probably left from her lipstick. “Mr. Ryan, after repeating this process with numerous Chlorophyta macroalgae samples, we found that we were able to grow whole gardens and turn these new samples into a state to be used in energy systems - similar to what you’re using with magma from the ocean floor, correct?” 

Ryan shifted, lifting a finger to his tie to loosen it a bit. “Yes, the Industries is using the magma as an energy source for Rapture.” 

The grin to spread across her lips was visible even from the corner of his eye, but he started to notice one small little detail - Jane had her gaze trained on Ryan as she talked, never sparing him a glance. And while it made her appear confident, Frank was starting to itch at the idea of her never consulting him over what she could and could not talk about with Ryan. But, while he also knew her to be smarter than that, the lack of attention his way was starting to make him a bit…jealous? Of Ryan? Why, of all people? 

He also noticed a topic Jane was introducing and trying to lead them down. Ryan had a network, a current energy system that they could potentially use as well…either she was trying to flat-out steal his idea for the system, or try and work on a way to partner with each other to utilize maybe an unused system. Either way, she did not tell him about this little plan of hers earlier, but he wasn’t quite averse to it. 

Jane gingerly set her wineglass back down on the table, the slight clink stretching the tension between Ryan’s last comment and her next. 

“Mr. Ryan, I know you and Fontaine to have a casual but riveting rivalry, and I understand coming between that could potentially…jeopardize that opposition. However, for this one opportunity, I see a partnership of sorts. To utilize an energy system, if there were to be one available, for a more “green” and environmentally friendly methodology for energy distribution within Rapture?” 

Maybe a reason Jane could have been avoiding eye contact, or any sort of contact, with Fontaine was because she had neglected to tell him of this plan. Knowing how thin a tightrope she’d be walking with both the Industries and Futuristics, but also knowing something else that’d make both their participation worth their while. 

Since when did she get to become so crafty and cunning, with Ryan above all people? Frank couldn’t help but raise a brow as she talked, both impressed and enthralled, also wondering where the hell this sudden confidence boost was coming from as well. And yet, when it came to the subject, she was the smartest person in the room and damn well knew it. 

“Environmentally friendly?” 

Jane beamed, “Yes. The current energy source is pure magma, which is a natural resource but consideration needs to be made with this source like any other fossil fuel - quantity and possible depletion. With the Chlorophyta macroalgae samples currently in my lab, a whole garden was able to be grown from one damaged origin cell - without having to harvest more samples from the ocean. The growth process with ADAM and these samples is also exponential, much greater than the process is naturally out in the ocean. There’s the promise of a constant energy source, without the natural disruption.” 

She was making some pretty damn good points, and the curve of Ryan’s brow was telling he didn’t disagree. 

“A partnership you say? Between the energy system and source?” 

Her nod was coupled with another sip from her glass, and Frank noticed it was almost empty at this point, along with his own. The hum from Ryan was also nearly swallowed up by a group close to their table, their buzzed laughter gathering their collective attention for a split second. 

“Your offer, and this project in general, is very enticing, Miss. Jane. There’s opportunity there for Rapture’s sake and a potential partnership that could also garner some good marketing for this new energy source.” Ryan’s gaze slipped between Fontaine’s and Jane’s. “Is this something that would take over the Industries’ energy production?” 

“Oh, no, not at all.” Jane was quick to interject and Frank reached across the table for her empty wine class. “What we’ve been able to create is nowhere near strong enough to act alone as a sole energy source, however, it will help to alleviate the use of magma that the Industries’ is currently using.” 

Frank thought the conversation to be safe enough to leave them both for several seconds for a refill, and he needed to stretch his legs for a bit. He watched as Jane’s spine stiffened for a second, seeing him leave from the corner of her eye, but he stayed until that tension in her shoulder sagged - relaxing - and he moved on back towards the bar. 

It occurred to him then that she still didn’t look at him, attention fixed like glue onto Ryan and he was trying to wrack his brain on why. Did he do something? Was she just that nervous to talk to Ryan? Nothing was special about the man, he’s told her that a few times leading up to the gala to help reduce her worry. And yet, there he was returning to the table with a refill on their drinks, and she took to looking at the glass instead of him, giving a slight “thank you” before continuing with the conversation. 

What the hell? 

Ryan at least had the courtesy to catch him up to speed on a potential agreement between the Industries and this opportunity, but it was going to be - more or less - a conversation between them and if it was something they actually wanted to collaborate on. Frank would do it, as long as Ryan promised he wouldn’t be a bitch about sharing the marketing. 

And the conversation about Jane’s project ended there, Ryan instead wanted to just pick her brain about the ocean, the marine life native to the area where the city sat, and so on. And Jane seemed more than content to drone on and on, using words that were starting to muddle against an alcohol-infused brain, some going in the ear and out the other. And he tried, he legitimately tried to abstain from too many refills. But something about the combination of just Ryan’s overall presence and Jane seemingly ignoring him was pushing him to entertain himself with what he’s always counted on. Intoxication. 

What the hell, right? 

~*~ 

At this point, he absolutely hated to admit it, but the remains of his whiskey started burning his throat. 

Frank wasn’t sure how many glasses he was down at this point, losing count after 4 as he watched Jane talk with Ryan across the table. The sight also added an extra sting to the alcohol and its effects as it started to swirl around in his head. The conversation they had switched over to about the ocean surrounding them was a relatively innocent conversation with legitimate questions on Ryan’s end and well-thought-out answers on Jane’s. He also didn’t even really need to interject anywhere, Jane answering most questions with enough anonymity to spare the Futuristics if something were to come up relating to it. And yet, as he watched her take small sips from her wine glass here and there, the realization wouldn’t stop grinding on his nerves. 

She still had her undivided attention on Ryan for the last hour and a half. And it was starting to make his skin itch under the new, and rather expensive, suit he decided to break out for this stupid party. Honey eyes never left Ryan’s. Her ears opened and she listened to each question or comment he had for her about the ocean, any economic value within Rapture that the ocean could provide, some ideas for environmental advertising, blah blah blah. And it wasn’t that he was jealous - or anything. Just…annoyed at this point with how long they had been talking. Fontaine was hoping this little meeting was going to be a quick in and out, a drink or two and he’d be back in the stacks of papers waiting in his office. 

Apparently not, with the past couple of hours a blur and his - whatever number - glass sitting empty in a ring of condensation in front of him. 

“This is all quite fascinating, Miss Hartley. I’m glad you’ve been able to take the time to sit down and discuss all this.” 

Fontaine rolled his eyes, gaze narrowing over towards Jane. At one point he had placed a possessive hand along her thigh under the table, showing that he was still there if she needed him, but to also give the subtle reminder that he was still there, and was almost drowning in his envy. If he was envious anyway…the whiskey telling him there was no way in hell. Fontaine didn’t get jealous when it came to a woman, right? Of course, which of him was really sitting next to Jane at this point? 

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Ryan.” She took another quick sip of her wine. Frank leaned to the side on his arm a bit then, trying to figure out if the slight dusting of pink on her cheeks was from the alcohol or proximity to Ryan. Heaven would know why it would be Ryan. 

“This is my passion, studying marine life and the ocean. It’s an honor to know my knowledge and findings will help the city.” 

Typical. Fontaine huffed with Ryan giving him a side glance and a slight sneer to couple it. Jane wasn’t the first person he watched Ryan sweet-talk and try to get onto his side, since it appeared that’s what he was doing with the second half of this conversation. With the promise of all the success, fame, and fortune one would only dream about. ‘Rapture’s Darling Biologist: Bringing Its Citizens and the Ocean Together’. Only to be left sorely disappointed that such fantasies would last all of two weeks. However this time, Ryan wouldn’t be walking away with Jane - Fontaine would make sure of that one way or another.

“Well, I promise to use your name in anyway way we can while implementing this potential partnership and based on your research, projects, and so on.” Ryan had the pleasure of adding and lifting his glass. “Until we meet again?” 

Jane smiled, big and bright as she lifted her glass to his as well, the quick tink ringing between the two and off into the scatter of music and laughter beyond them. He wondered if he were to roll his eyes anymore they’d get stuck at the back of his skull. 

He needed another drink - before testing that theory at least.

~

With another glass in hand, filled with the familiar amber liquid, he turned to the crowd with form lax leaning against the front of the bar. With the three of them parting ways, Ryan slipping back into the crowd to mingle with his guests, and Jane off to search for a familiar face she saw earlier; Frank was left to wait along the sidelines and try not to draw too much attention to himself, buzzed out of his mind as he was. The noise of the crowd and music lulling from the jukebox several feet from him started to mull together at this point as well. Everything became a weird fuzzy white noise that plugged his ears like cotton. So much for the promise he made to Jane earlier. 

Speaking of the devil, his attention caught her then, a siren side-stepping through the throng of guests, appearing as if she was dancing. The red tint of her lips and the sway of her hips in that silk emerald dress lured his gaze, causing it to linger for far too long, and he saw only her then in that crowd. He cleared his throat before she got too close, averting his gaze with the burn of the alcohol bringing him back to Earth for a split second. 

“I was afraid you had left already.” She called to him over the noise of the mass and music, all collectively echoing throughout the smaller space. She had to be buzzed as well with the lilt to her voice, subtle, but obvious falling on familiar ears. 

A scoff, “Yeah? Was tempted ‘nough. Thought you an’ Ryan were gonna be talkin’ nonsensical shit all night.” 

He watched the offended expression turn to an incredulous roll of her eyes, a hum to emanate from around the rim of her wine glass. She took a step closer to him, a brow raised as the glass came away with a quirk of her lip to match. 

“You’re drunk.” 

A scoff, “That’s quite an accusation, Doll.” He narrowed his gaze at her. “Am not.” 

“Yeah?” She cocked a hip with a hand to rest there, scanning him from those shiny Oxford shoes to the light dusting of pink just barely visible on his cheeks. “It’s not an accusation if it’s true. And you promised - ” 

“Ah ah -” He lifted his free hand, “We promised I’d be sober ‘nough to answer any questions Ryan would have.” Frank shrugged. “Never said anythin’ ‘bout after the fact.” 

She rolled her eyes again, indulging from the wine glass she had been taking small sips from over the past half hour. 

“Besides,” He added. “Not like you needed me or anythin’.” 

He inhaled sharply when she took a step closer to him, dragging her gaze down to his tie and up again with mouth curling. “What, were you jealous or somethin’?” 

The entire world seemed to fall away around them at that point, and Frank quickly lifted his gaze to the horde of people behind her that only seemed to be closing in, suffocating. He started shuffling to the side to a small opening, and she followed until they were away from the front of the bar. The jukebox was now just across from them, a large bay window funneling into the room a sea-green glow that blanketed them, making everything feel more like a hazy dream. 

As they situated themselves out of the way, though, loose lips couldn’t keep the huff from slipping as Frank muttered, “Wasn’t jealous. Didn't have a reason to be.” 

The coy smile arched her lips. A painted fingernail lifted to run the length up his silk red tye, fabric adorned in embroidered gilded thread rows. Gold that glinted in the limited light above them, popping against the white of his dress shirt. 

“Right.” Jane tilted her chin up towards him, her lips pursed slightly as she spoke, teasing a faint kiss but never following through. “And I’m supposed to believe the little huffs you couldn’t hold back while I was talkin’ to Ryan were enticed by an intense boredom instead, hmm?” 

Frank scoffed, he was almost sure he kept all that under his breath enough for not even Jane to hear. Apparently, he wasn’t as smooth as he thought. “Of course, like I said, you didn’t even need me. What else was I supposed t’do?” 

He realized then that the suffocating feeling shrouding him before wasn’t because of the extra people shifting a little too close to the bar, it was Jane. She took another step towards him, fully in his space now and Frank held his breath for a second, feeling the familiar clutch ache in his chest. 

Curiosity dripped from his tone as he muttered, “What are you doin’?” and he couldn’t help but feed into whatever game she was playing, his free hand finding the curve of her hip with fingers teasing the fabric of her dress. 

The hum vibrated from her, practically a purr as she leaned herself into his chest. “Trying to prove you’re wrong.” His fingers flexed into the silk of her dress and she chuckled. “And don’t you dare think of arguing, I felt your hand on my thigh under the table.” 

A jolt shot up his spine following her words and, just to twist the knife, she steadied herself with the hand that had been messing with his tie along the front of his shirt. Tilting her head a bit more, her nose brushed against his own, the sweet, tangy berry of the Merlot she’d been drinking was heavy on her breath as she teased another faint kiss. 

And yet, the huff to puff against her lips was equally laced with the honeyed, smoky caramel burning his tongue. “Tryin’ to prove me wrong? Doll, you’ve got some nerve talkin’ like that.” 

She scoffed, “Please. Fontaine?” He raised a brow as a giggle spilled from her, “You’re all bark and no bite. I mean, yeah it takes a while to sift through all the layers, but you’re just another man who can’t disguise your desire.” 

The fact that she was that close to the truth wasn’t as terrifying as he’d thought it’d be. “You say that like you know me or somethin’?” His voice dipped to a whisper, forehead almost touching her own. 

Her shoulders brushed against the fabric of his suit’s jacket when she shrugged, “You have no idea,” Jane droned, stretching her words, “how close you and my Frank are. How similar you both act, especially when jealous.” His stomach dropped then, “My Frank could chew a sailor to shreds if they tried flirtin’ with me in from of him, even more so after you’d get a few drinks in ‘em.”

The smile was a little forced but brief, hidden away by the rim of his glass as another gulp went down smooth but not without its addictive burn. He remembers such occasions, even though he’d do the same to Ryan for a second as they were all talking. He watched her sway a bit then, head lolling to the music lifting and floating above them, the muffled commotion beyond barely registering. And the next suggestion whispered over the shell of her ear probably would have been contemplated a little better if they both weren’t buzzed with all common sense left to the currents. 

“You know, Doll - if you wanna find out, all you gotta do is ask.” He watched the pink along her cheeks darken and those honey eyes slowly lift to his own. “How similar we are, instead of just assumin’.” 

Her lips parted, and he noticed a bit of the red along her lower lip was smudged, the remains left along the rim of her wine glass clutched in her free hand. 

“Who said I was assuming?” 

The gurgled groaning of the ocean just beyond the windows they were cocooned within had almost overshadowed her statement, and he leaned away from her for a second to make sure he heard her correctly as well.

Did she know? 

They held each other’s gaze for a few moments as he searched her features for any indication she might actually know who he was. He felt the feather-light crawl of her fingers to grip at his tie again, pulling the fabric down and encouraging him to follow her movements. He held his breath, honestly thinking she was going to kiss him, engulfed in this crowd of Raptrue’s elite; there for anyone to see. And for the first time tonight, he could feel the blazing heat on his face and around the collar of his suit.

Instead, there was a desperate shutter to her next exhale, “Frank, can - can we go?” He thought something might have been wrong until the quirk to her lip was practically felt against his own. “I’m tired of pretending for the night.” 

They separated, and it was only a second as he blinked through the haze before he gulped down the rest of the whiskey and Jane took one last sip from her wine, both setting their glasses aside along the windowsill and booking it for the entrance. Hand in hand, he could feel her palm getting warmer, her pulse quickening and it felt as if they were in a hysteria trying to maneuver around a crowd that was reluctant to let them go so soon. 

As they made it out of the Lounge, however, finally breaking free from the few groups still swarming the entrance, the breath of fresh cool air was sudden and shocking but welcoming. Jane couldn’t stop giggling as he pulled her along, and instead of the sound being exasperating, Frank couldn’t help the smile tugging at his features at such a blissful melody. 

And it immediately brought him back to their antics on the surface as he’d tug her along across the pier, the breeze whipping the waves below them with the sea salt potent in the surrounding air. She’d be giggling as she was now, asking where the hell he was taking her. No later he’d have her in his arms, leaning up against the railing of the pier, stealing kisses under the stars as if every one would be their last. 

This time, however, instead of the creaking wood it was the the echoing of their shoes across the tiled floor of the lower Atrium, Jane’s heels clicking with each step. And just for old times’ sake, Frank’s wandering gaze immediately snagged on a near Med Bay that sat in a short hallway and he pulled her with him. 

“Frank -” Jane chuckled, “where the hell are you going?” 

Instead of any sort of vocal response, he did a double-take both from the direction they came and where they were heading. Finding no one wandering in the immediate area, they slipped into the short hallway with Jane’s back meeting the wall separating them from the rest of Rapture. And before she could complain anymore about what the hell was going through his head, he finally met her lips with his own in a feverish kiss. 

Deep, frantic, desperate, but completely in control. The chill of the marble wall along her bare shoulders caused a shiver to rake down her spine, and a drunken whine to drip from her lips as he pulled away. 

“Why’d you stop?” She panted, eyes opening and glassy. 

He met her confusion with a smirk, “What? You wanted me to keep goin’?” 

The frantic nod was endearing and her hand immediately went back to his tie to pull his mouth back down to her own. The hum to rumble from his chest buckled her knees, Frank noticed the slip of her right foot and he strengthened his hand’s grip around her waist. The chuckle was deep, coming across almost mean if the whine to tumble from her was telling enough. 

“Think you can make it back to the complex, Doll?” 

The question barely fell on comprehensive ears, Jane panting as he pulled away, nosing along her cheek and kissing a trail along her jawline, trying to pull more soft and barely-concealed noises from her. The next little hitch to her breath made him grin uncontrollably, still able to find that one sensitive spot just by her ear. She had been using his tie to control each movement, but this time her next pull had her releasing it completely. 

Her gaze was hardly focused when she looked back towards him, voice cracking a bit when she muttered a soft, “Let’s go.” And he still had to use every ounce of what self-control he had left to pull away from her. 

Grabbing for her hand again, the ground felt as if it was spinning slightly under them, the tiles blurring together with the contrasting black and white swirling. Frank also tugged her up next to him at one point to give some indication to wrap her arm around his own as they strolled through the rest of Posident’s Plaza and Fort Frolic, trying to blend into the milling crowds and keeping what composure they had left. Out of the corner of his eye, he also watched Jane try to fix her lipstick that might have gotten smudged, the tip of her middle finger coming away with a bit of red and he smirked.  

If anything, tonight he was planning on removing it all. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~ 

Familiar, it all felt so familiar. 

However, she tried not to think about it too much, thinking already such an arduous task at the moment. But the enthusiasm bubbling within her was all too nostalgic to ignore completely, and she had to hush them both when entering the complex as tipsy giggles and laughter trailed behind them, knowing Jack to probably be asleep already. 

Even in her borderline drunken state, Jane knelt towards the bottom of the stairs to take her heels off to avoid the annoying clacking going up the wooden steps. What she wasn’t expecting was two arms grabbing her from behind, and she tried to desperately muffle her squeal as Fontaine lifted her up and over his shoulder. A hand went over her mouth watching one of her heels clatter to the floor from her hand with the angry commotion echoing throughout the foyer, but his action alone had the giggles back and in full force with her chest shaking in an attempt to keep quiet.

“Frank!” She wiggled in his grasp for a second, his name a sharp whisper as her head was thrown for a loop and her ears started ringing at the change in angle. 

Her hands grabbed desperately at the back of his suit’s jacket and he only chuckled at her expense, the fabric twisting between her fingers as he walked them up the stairs to the bedroom. It was almost eerie to not see the fireplace flickering, casting dancing shadows along the wall as it usually is when she’d return from some light reading, ready for bed. In fact, Fontaine decided to keep all the lights off, the pulsing neon and shifting of the currents the only thing illuminating the room. It felt reminiscent of the dream-like haze they seemed to have been wading further and further into at the Lounge. And even there surrounded by those windows and the low hum of the ocean, she wouldn’t trade it for anything else right now; not even for her little one-bedroom apartment on the surface, or just her life from the surface. 

The pounding in her head only intensified as her view started to flip, with Fontaine dropping her onto the foot of the bed. The clicking of his shoes coming off and hitting the wooden flooring was barely heard over the muffled whistling in her ears, attention shifting from the spiraling pattern hovering between her and the ceiling to Frank removing his suit jacket and tie. Placing both onto the loveseat at the end of the bed, he crawled up onto the mattress. Situating himself above her on his hands and knees, Jane clicked her mouth shut, realizing then it might have slumped open watching him partially undress with a heated blush instant along her face.

Those steel-gray eyes were boring a hole between her own, the heat palpable from his staring alone. But, the pleasant buzz still floating in her head and chest reached a hand out for his shirt, pulling him down again for another desperate kiss. He still tasted like whiskey, and she couldn’t help the subtle bite to his bottom lip, completely addicted to it and chasing that taste as he pulled away with a low hum rumbling from his chest. 

“How drunk are you?” 

The question wasn’t one she quite expected, but considering the number of drinks they both partook in throughout the night, it didn’t surprise her. “Not very.” She closed her eyes, “I’m pleasantly buzzed, but not too far gone.” Opening them then, she saw his expression lift and a gentle smile followed. “I’m not drunk enough to make any bad decisions, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“So, you don’t think this is a bad decision?” 

The hand that had a tight grip on his shirt moved to cradle his jaw, and it was slight, but the tilt to his head and soft weight in her palm caused her heart to thump loudly. 

“It’s like you always say, no one has to know what happens behind these closed doors.” 

She just needed him, in any way he’d have her, no more questions. 

The sudden vulnerability that was so very brief to flash in his eyes, turning them a slight blue, cleared within a breath and he pushed himself from the mattress to stand. Glazed attention watched him drop his suspenders to hang around his hips, the sleeves of his button-down rolling up above each elbow before he reached towards her still splayed on the mattress. His hands found her natural waist as she immediately grabbed for his shoulders, and he helped her to stand on the loveseat. Towering above him, he was still at the perfect height to slide his palms from her waist back to the zipper of the dress. 

Something about the action made her freeze when his fingers found the zipper and started tugging, her fingers suddenly tightening around the fabric along her shoulders and he stopped. 

“I - I…”

“You ok?” 

Jane took a breath, a deep inhale, and a long exhale before nodding and loosening her grip on his shirt. 

“Yeah, I’m ok. Just…” 

“Jane -” His voice was low and smooth like the remains of the whiskey still sitting along his tongue. “You’re beautiful. An’ I like you, remember? Nothin’ under this dress is gonna change that.” 

It threw her for another loop, his words and confessions. Just a little over a year ago she’d see the tycoon on the television or in the Tribune and call him a monster, a selfish, narcissistic mogul only pulling the shit he was for his own image. A snake just as slippery as Ryan, skirting around the loopholes of Rapture to advance himself quickly to the top while the rest of the city worked and sacrificed. Or at least, that’s what Ann would drone on about.

Now, here he was smitten with some woman, only showing her his soft spot while keeping that razor-sharp facade for everyone else. It was - confusing. But, at the same time, if they each reminded one another of someone from the surface, another life? Who was she to dismiss him, dismiss herself of something she’s ignored for so long? 

What the hell, right?  

The smooth slide of the zipper purred as he pulled it, the bust of the dress falling until it caught and pooled around the tops of her hips. His palms, skin scalding and calloused, slid from behind her back to the fabric bunching along her abdomen. Jane had been watching him, the flush sitting along her face melting down to her chest when his gaze lifted to snag her own. 

Just look at me. 

The silk tickled her a bit as careful hands pulled it down over her hips, the dress slipping off quite easily as he moved to drape it over one of the near armchairs. Jane tried to fight every instinct to try and cover herself, but the familiar quirk to his features as he turned back to her only made her heart pound in her ears. It felt as if she was standing on a podium, towering over him and the rest of the room with the cushioning of the loveseat sinking and shifting under wiggling toes. He took his place in front of her again, bumping one shin up against the front of the loveseat and patting his thigh for her to place her foot on. 

Jane didn’t even realize she was shaking, a foot lifting with toes lightly tapping his thigh. He grabbed for the back of her calf, the fabric of the sheer stocking trailing up from her foot to her thigh; the only set of garters she owned tastefully matching her all-off-white lingerie. 

Hell, if she had known this would be happening tonight, along with the increase in alcohol consumption - more than she was anticipating - she would have gone shopping for a better undergarment set. 

And yet, it didn’t even seem to phase Fontaine as practiced fingers slid up to undo the garter’s hook on her right thigh. His gaze still never left hers as he worked to slowly tug the fabric down and off her leg. Jane didn’t register her breathing had paused until the stocking slipped off, and not a single thought could invade her mind as he lowered her foot and reached for the other to repeat the same process. 

Her fingers buried themselves into his dress shirt, even feeling her nails bite his skin and another long exhale drew her fingers back. However, as her breathing started to waver along with the alcohol still swirling in her system, the next shaky inhale had her head spinning. Frank must have noticed the way her eyes slightly crossed as his hands returned to her waist to lower her back down onto the bed with her feet elevated on the loveseat. 

“Didn’t think you were drunk enough to go passin’ out on me.” He muttered with a chuckle tacked on the tail-end of his comment and she scowled at him. 

“I’m not, it’s just…I haven’t done this in a while.” A sudden flutter of embarrassment rolled over her and she tilted her head down and away from him after the confession. “Or - not since my life on the surface, at least.” 

With him? Yeah, he remembers. That last night together, they had left the windows open to her apartment as a slight breeze cooled the evening air. However, Jane had a knock on her door the next morning as they ate breakfast, a neighbor complaining about how loud she had been and if everything was alright. The neighbor was an elderly woman whom Frank had met a few times, and he almost choked on his food hearing Jane try to explain how she was fine but had a terrible stomach ache the previous night. The woman didn’t question her further but spotted Frank behind Jane at the dining table and the smirk thrown his way was forever burned into his memory. 

Had she not been with anyone else since?

Another reassuring grip settled along the back of her neck as his smile was understanding, bringing her head closer to rest against his. 

“It’s alright.” His voice was a hushed whisper, “Just let go - of everything. I gotcha.”  

And she believed him, down to every last word. 

But, instead of responding, she let her actions talk and a trembling hand reached for the collar of his shirt to bring his mouth back to hers. Grabbing for his other hand, she guided it toward her skin until she felt his fingertips brush her thigh. An invitation he took rather enthusiastically, and - without even separating - she felt him tip her back onto the bed and the coolness of the comforter was a shock against her exposed skin. 

To her dismay, the warmth that had been hovering over her pulled away and Jane watched him slide back toward the end of the bed, hands fumbling to start unbuttoning his dress shirt. She watched him between her arched knees, a sight she’d only dreamt about recently. The heat from the alcohol that had been flooding her chest rose to her face rather quickly once she saw the shirt fall away and onto the ground somewhere. 

Damn. She knew the man had the stature, had the height and broadness to him that certainly set him apart from Ryan. But seeing Fontaine like this, alone in his bedroom, all to herself? It sparked something in her abdomen, and she lifted herself to start scooting back towards the pillows until she felt the plush fabric contoured against her back; trying to maybe extend this game of push and pull. However, just as he unclipped the suspenders from his dress pants, he must have noticed her maneuver and the smirk to follow his next move almost made her shriek in surprise. 

Sinking both knees back onto the mattress, Frank started crawling back toward her with a mean quirk on his lips. A squeal spilled from her as he reached a hand out for her calf, fingers gripping and yanking her back under him. 

“Oh no you don’t.” His mouth found the junction of her neck and shoulder, the sharp points of his teeth teasing her skin. “Don’t go runnin’ off now when we’re both exactly where you wanted us.” 

“Where I wanted us?” A sputtered gasp shook her chest. “You seem to be forgetting exactly who was jealous watching me talk to Ryan all night.” 

Fingers gripped and blanched against the skin of her calf, pulling her closer.

“Told ya -” His lips found the shell of her ear, breath hot against the sensitive skin, “wasn’t jealous.” 

She scoffed suddenly as it puffed up into the briny air above them and her eyes slid shut as he continued the trail of kisses from her ear back down her jaw. The next word to leave her mouth was whispered, her voice already unsteady and shrinking. 

“Liar.” 

Nails bit into the skin of her calf, a hiss slipping through her teeth as his snarl returned to display the same points of his teeth that had scraped her skin earlier. Goosebumps littered her arms, hair rising along the back of her neck in waves as a free hand reached to pin one of her wrists above her head. 

“You callin’ me a liar now, huh?” The warmth of his touch was sweltering on her skin, fingertips raking up from her calf to the hem of her underwear. “Tell me somethin’, Doll - why the hell would I be jealous of Ryan when I’m the one who’s got you in my bed right now?” 

Jane held her breath as his fingers tugged on the fabric, and yet his words kept fishing for her attention away from his subtle movements. 

Just look at me. 

A small smile graced her lips with a hum to accompany it, “Then you should make it more obvious to Ryan next time. I’m more than certain he didn’t see your hand on my thigh under the table.” Jane chuckled softly, “He just might keep his distance.” 

The hand that had been holding her wrist released it and trailed down from her arm. Leaving fire in its wake, his fingertips scorched her from her waist to her hips, sliding around to cradle her lower back and pushing up. 

Lift. 

Her hips came off the mattress for him to remove her underwear completely, the fabric catching on her ankle before he tugged it free and tossed it off the end of the bed. 

“Ryan better keep his fuckin’ distance,” The ice in his words chilled the heat building along her spine from where his hand was still splayed along her lower back, his head tilting back down with breath intertwining, “‘cause you belong to me, alright?” 

 A feverish nod at his words, “Ryan’s got nothin’ for you.” 

And just as she was about to clamp her knees shut, suddenly feeling super self-conscious, a palm was tender on the inside of her thigh, not pulling but rather just sitting there. Her mind blanked a few times, trying to sift through the mean and almost condescending frigidity to his words, an ice pick chipping away at her, inch by tortious inch; compared to his actions that soothed and reassured, a comforting warmth that was equal parts gentle and…sweet. 

As he was still hovering over her, instead of asking a million questions and contemplating something her brain was too muddled to understand at the moment, she lifted her hands to cradle his face. The scruff still slightly scratchy along his jawline as she pulled him back down in a desperate kiss; one thought floating around in the ether. 

He tasted like home. 

“Show me then.” The whisper barely made it past her lips when she separated them, reluctantly, licking at the caramel notes from his whiskey on her bottom lip. “Prove to me that I belong right here, with you.” 

It was enough to finally get what she wanted. 

A shuttered gasp broke from her and towards the arching ceiling when his lips returned to that sensitive spot on her neck, but not before giving her a vulnerable quirk to his lips that had a startling similarity, appearing as her Frank for a split second. And those eyes, as blue as the ocean waves crashing against the shoreline. 

It was him. He had to be.  

Her train of thought switched instantly with the slight pull from the palm that had been resting along her thigh, his mouth returning to her own to distract as his fingers dipped between her legs. A jolt zapped through her abdomen with a muffled moan ghosting past her lips, his fingers tapping against her clit before melting down to dip and drag, shallowly, along her folds. She felt the trail of wetness along the inside of her thigh as his hand lifted to pull her right knee out and against him, his knees sinking into the mattress below. 

“Fuck,” A huffed laugh puffed against her jawline. “Ain’t you wet for me, Baby Jane.” 

The nickname had her stomach doing flips, not having heard that in a long time, and wondered if he knew at all what it did to her. Her Frank almost always chanting the nickname like a prayer or whispering it to her from across the bar, just to see her flush if she was in a sour mood. 

Instead of calling him out, and asking him how the hell he knew, she reached out with her palm opening and closing for his own; grabbing at the air until he obliged with a chuckle and placed his hand within hers. The smile was immediate, satisfied, and she guided his hand back between her legs with breath sputtering, “Again, please.” 

Her back arched with another almost breathless gasp as he found her clit, the pads of his fingers stroking slowly, teasing before dipping two fingers back into her entrance. Sliding down to the second knuckle, he stroked forward against the bundle of nerves along her front wall with his thumb brushing the sensitive nub simultaneously. Stars speckled the corners of her vision as his fingers started pumping, slow and methodical, driving her absolutely mad as a bit of incoherent sputtering took a minute to form words.

“Please, F - Frank, please keep going. Don’t stop -” 

A hum rumbled from his chest as he continued stroking and pumping his fingers in time with her staggering breath. And he leaned down to mutter, nose just barely brushing hers, “Don’t stop? Aw, com’on, Doll.” Another chuckle dripped past his lips, melting onto her own. “Where’s the fun in that? You’ve been teasin’ me all night in that dress, that damn red lipstick -” He kept stroking, lightly, as he pulled his fingers out one inch at a time, until the tips of his fingers sat barely pulsing against her dripping core and she couldn’t help the spasm to shake her at the feeling. “Keepin’ your attention on that bastard Ryan like I wasn’t even there.” 

“I - I…” Jane screwed her eyes shut, hands lifting from where she had been fisting the sheets by her side to hide her face, speaking between her fingers. “I was just nervous - ah - about talking to Ryan.” 

“So you thought it was ok to just stare at ‘im the entire night?” 

She knew he was just egging her on, but his words still stung a bit only because she honestly didn’t even realize she had been doing it - keeping her undivided attention on Ryan. Her nerves must have been worse than she thought, the wine not really doing much for her at the moment, and she was paying for it now. 

Does that mean he admits to being jealous? 

Her mouth fell open with a whine bubbling from her throat, arching from the mattress as her hips started to roll in time with the quick shallow thrusting of his fingers. 

“Frank, please -” Was all she could muster as her chest heaved, wanting more, needing more of him inside. But his movement slowed almost to a complete stop, and her hands dropped from her face, lifting to pout at the tycoon. 

“Ah ah, none of that. Answer me, Doll.” 

The thump was obnoxious as if she was having a tantrum with her head flopping back onto the mattress. She had been skating an edge, the buildup slow, but the tightening in her core was obvious enough and he had just… stopped. 

“I…I didn’t know - I didn’t know I was doing it.” Her fists found the comforter again and clawed at the fabric. “I was so fucking nervous, Frank. I didn’t know, please.” 

Her breath came in pants as his gaze lazily trailed from where his hand sat between her legs to her face. The brow arch ripped another whine from her chest and her hands twitched. Surely she could try and move slow enough, reach down, and swat his hand aside if he wasn’t going to give her what she wanted. Perfectly fine with taking the reigns herself. And yet, while it was a good idea for a split second, deep down she knew who was in control at the moment, and the consequences of taking that control for herself. 

There was another tilt to his lip and he leaned forward, “You’re not lyin’ to me?” 

“Why - why would I?” Her eyes squeezed shut again feeling his fingers slip inside her as her voice wavered, “I have no reason to.” 

Honey eyes opened to see him still hovering over her, fingers just barely working as the smile sparked in his gaze first before lingering down to his lips. 

“You’re cute.” 

A sudden gasp flooded the minuscule space between them as he added a third finger, scissoring them and doubling down on his movements. And she couldn’t help but squirm and rock her hips into his palm in time with his fingers, the gasps eventually dissolving into moans and the familiar fluttering returned to her pelvis. 

Opening her mouth again, trying to find the words to encourage him to keep going, to not stop; but nothing came out and she freed a hand tangled in the fabric of the comforter to pull his arm, bringing his lips back to her own. 

“Right there, aren’tcha?” The growl was hot against her cheek as a sudden spasm clenched her walls and around his fingers, and she could only nod frantically as he huffed. “You’re gonna cum on my fingers first, then I’ll give you somethin’ better.” 

He didn’t need to persuade her further, the increasingly intense rhythm of his fingers pushing her closer and closer with her breath warm and rapid against the crook of his shoulder, grabbing onto his biceps for dear life. Nails dug deeper, dragging down his skin with breathless whimpers and his name spilling from her lips like poetry. 

Not too soon after his initial command, Jane felt her back start to curl along with that tightening coil, then she stilled altogether when it snapped with barely a breath of warning. Shaking and pulsing under him, she was almost thankful he started to slow his movements, cumming harder than she had in an embarrassingly long time. Blurry stars started to skate around the edges of her vision as well, eyes staring up unseeing and making her pleasantly dizzy with a warmth now vibrating throughout her entire body. 

“There we go.” She couldn’t help the lazy smile at his purr of approval once the haze started to melt away, pure satisfaction thrumming through her every nerve. 

The grip she had on his shoulders slowly loosened, fingers taking their time to drag down the occasional dips of muscle along his arms; exploring the body she only ever saw beneath tailored suites or undershirts. He was still positioned over her, his hand lifting from between her thighs with her wetness trailing along her hip as he brought his fingers to her lips. 

“Gonna help clean up, sweetheart?” 

The sharp, acidic scent of herself assaulted her nose, but her lips parted regardless. Her tongue recoiled at the tangy but oddly sweet taste, and the heated look he was giving her then only spurred her on, wanting to please with tongue licking over each finger. 

And his next rumble of praise was enough to have the flush return and heat her face, pulling his fingers from her mouth and cooing, “Good girl. Knew you’d be good for me.”  

A chill ran along her arms and down her spine at his words, goosebumps pricking her skin with eyes wide gazing up at him, her head feeling fuzzy and floaty. Jane had been trailing her fingers from his arms to his shoulders, down to his chest until fingers stopped above the waist of his dress pants. 

“Frank -” She drew his name out into a whine, her voice a bit hoarse. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” 

The chuckle at her comment crinkled the corners of his eyes a bit, and she was immediately smitten with the simple action. It seemed as if he was reluctant to move at first, but as he shifted off the edge of the bed, Jane propped herself on her elbows to shamelessly watch. As the shadows shifted with the illuminated currents behind them, she was almost hoping he didn’t see her initial reaction as he kicked his dress pants and briefs from around his ankle. 

The smirk to greet her leering gaze caused a fierce blush to tint her cheeks.

“See somethin’ you like?” 

Her hands extended towards him again with a nod as he slowly crawled on the mattress to her. He met her grasp with his own and pulled her to her knees in front of him, and she couldn’t help reaching her free hand to his cock standing flush with blood and hot as her fingertips curled around the base, stroking up. 

The slow hiss as he inhaled sharply prompted her to scoot closer and swipe her thumb over his head, collecting the small bead of precum to gather there. Palming him, her nerves began to vibrate again. What he lacked a little in length, he made up with just how thick he was; and she licked her lips in anticipation. Her touches must have also been spurring him on as well, the barely concealed grunts following her shallow strokes were obvious enough. 

Jane leaned forward a bit, lips just ghosting over his. “How do you want me?” She whispered. 

Frank had closed his eyes the second she started touching him, that sea-foam blue gaze lazily opening and returning to her own with a coy smirk to follow. 

“Want you to ride me.” She nearly swooned at the gravelly tone in his voice. “Wanna see what those hips can do.” 

Interesting, honestly, not what she thought he’d ask her; thinking Fontaine to be a man who craved control in every aspect of his life. But, who was she to complain as they started moving back towards the head of the bed, Frank settling himself along the pillows as she climbed over his legs towards his lap. 

Yet, before she moved any further, Jane snagged his attention as his hands reached for purchase along her hips. “And this is ok? No um - protection or anything?” Even in her buzzed state, she just wanted to make sure. 

His shrug was nonchalant, “You’re on that new pill thing right?” 

She nodded, it wasn’t even approved in the states yet, but somehow doctors were able to get trials of it down in Rapture. For as long as she’s been taking it now, everything seemed so far so good. 

“Then don’t worry. I’ve got somethin’ else you can take later if you’re concerned.” His hands tugged at her hips then, and she couldn’t ignore the ache in her pelvis anymore along with his next string of words, “Right now, just need you, Baby Jane.” 

Heart fluttering, she took no time then to lift herself, knees straddling his hips before aligning just above his cock and slowly sinking inch by glorious inch. He wasn’t incredibly long, but the oddly familiar stretch had her mouth dropping open with a breathless gasp and eyes rolling up and shut. Her hands were balanced on his chest, nails digging into his skin for a second as she adjusted, his grip on her hips hard enough to leave bruises 

“Fuck -” Frank had tilted his head up towards the ceiling with a drawn-out groan bellowing as she shifted her hips a bit. “You’re a little oasis, arentcha? So fuckin’ wet, an’ tight.”  

Jane felt her heart hammering in her chest at the praise, lifting her hips a bit to test if she was adjusted and sliding back down on his cock steadily with hands nearly shaking. It was then she also realized she still had her bra on, the fabric suddenly itchy and smothering, quick to reach around and unclasp it; throwing it off towards the end of the bed. 

It wasn’t a second later that she placed her hands back along his chest, lifting her hips and rolling them at the same time, feeling that heavenly thickness stretch and fill her. Jane hadn’t even realized she closed her eyes again, opening them to see Frank’s narrowed gaze shamelessly fixed on her exposed chest bouncing with each movement. His eyes zipped between her twisting features and where his cock was disappearing between her legs as the experimental thrusting of her hips started picking up in a controlled rhythm. 

“See something you like?” Jane countered, leaning back with a sudden surge of confidence, displaying herself entirely to him and relishing in the brief flash of utter need on his face. 

While her breasts were rather average, on a good day, and a fairly slender frame where she’d been trying to regain the figure she once had in college; he seemed to be lost in her regardless, his desire obvious within his gaze as he scanned every inch as if trying to memorize each scar, dip, and blemish. 

“You have no idea.” He muttered, his hands sliding down from her waist to the tops of her thighs splayed wide on either side of his hips, following her movements. “How much I’ve thought ‘bout this.”  

Jane tilted herself forward, the next thrust eliciting a stifled moan. “You’ve thought about this? About me like this?” Her nose brushed his, lips teasing a faint kiss as her hips slowed. 

The shrug was subtle, his palms sliding around to grab handfuls of her ass. “Can you blame me? Lookin’ like you do every day?” Her smile was cut off as his mouth captured hers, “Talkin’ to Ryan as you did.” 

He thrust up into her then, the obscene squelching between her legs burning her face with a muffled shriek buried into the crook of his neck. “Found a pretty little thing like you, think I’m gonna give that up so easily?” Frank slipped his hands under her thighs, encouraging her to meet his thrusts, mouth searing along the shell of her ear. “Think I’m gonna give up this pussy for anythin’ else?” 

“Frank - “ Jane couldn’t help the moan spill from her, a shiver shaking her body just at his words and hips snapping into her own with quick and fluid motions. 

Fingernails raked down from his shoulders to his chest, finding anything to ground herself on with the heat dripping from her core feeling like molten lava. His next thrust up met her as she bore down, the sensitive nub of her clit brushing against his pelvis and a massive jolt stiffened her spine. He must have felt her clench hard as well, his hips stuttering for a second and a hand came up to thread through the back of her hair. 

“Keep sayin’ my name, Doll.” He growled and pulled her head away from his shoulder, tilting it back to leave a trail of bruising kisses and teeth teasing the skin along her collarbone. “Wanna hear who you belong to when you cum on my cock.” 

Beads of sweat were starting to gather along her brow, feeling streams trickle down her back as well as she tried to desperately keep her thrusts in time with his own. The delicious friction sawing inside her coupled with the constant pressure against her clit had her almost babbling. 

The coil had been winding itself impossibly tight with his next thrust angled just right along the sensitive nerves of her front wall. His name fell from her lips like a prayer, chanting with nails clawing along his shoulders as he stroked that spot over and over and over. The string of groans vibrating from his chest and stuttering of his hips told her he had to be close too, and she wailed his name before leaning to bite along the crook of his neck to muffle her cries as she went tumbling over the edge. 

Her hips stilled, walls clenching aggressively as her climax pulsed throughout every fiber, every nerve in her body with the heat ballooning from her core to raise goosebumps along her skin. The ringing in her ears intensified, her mind going completely fuzzy and her gaze almost too bleary to see the shit-eating smirk on Fontaine’s face as she attempted to lift herself. 

“That’s what I like to hear.” His voice sounded distant like it wasn’t coming from the man mere inches from her. 

And before she could even comprehend what had just happened, she felt his hands shift from along her thighs to pull her off of him. Slipping his cock still hard and wet from her dripping heat and the whine surprised her as it bubbled and stumbled from her chest at the incredibly empty feeling to follow. 

“Don’t worry, Baby Jane,” He cooed as he laid her back along the mattress, calloused hands carefully orienting her legs as if she were nothing but a porcelain doll. He wrapped them around his hips, her ankles instinctually locking at the small of his back as he entered her again with a whisper against her jawline. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

Jane wound her arms around his back, body still trembling as her nails dug into his skin again, raking along his spine with his thrusts gentle and unhurried. He lifted himself then, forearms supporting his weight above her and she retracted her hands from his back to cradle his face between her palms. 

She didn’t notice the flush to his skin before, pupils blown from the minimal light and mouth lolled open to allow the occasional groan and pant to slip. It seemed like he was fighting between two versions of himself, mouth spewing filth meant to prick her skin and make her wet. Yet his actions were practiced and careful, his movements sharp but not enough to hurt her. 

The sight tugged at her heart, daring her to recall those nights on the surface and piece them together with what was happening at that moment. As his arms wrapped around her, she brought his mouth to hers in a tender kiss, the space broken occasionally by fractured gasps with his hips picking up their pace. 

“Frank?” She mumbled, snagging his attention with her plea. “I didn’t say it before, but - I like you too.” 

The next exhale from him was long and deep, almost stilling completely as he drew out and thrust back in so painfully slowly until he was hilted, their pelvises meeting. His forehead reached to thump against her own with a sigh and her hands reached up and around the back of his neck. 

“Really?” He huffed, although it sounded like he was calling his bluff. “A heartless monster like me?” 

Jane lowered a hand, the pad of her thumb running along his lips, as if to wipe the words from his mouth. 

“You’re not a heartless monster.” She whispered. “If you were, I wouldn’t still be here.” 

An obvious pain twisted his features, a vulnerability that shocked her for a split second and she lowered her hand to cradle his jaw. 

“Then, you’d be the first.” 

His first, a decade ago, and still to this day - his only. 

It was instinctual, tugging his mouth back to hers, to hush any other deeply concealed insecurity and he shifted his hips to start moving again. Picking back up on a steady rhythm that had them both moving in time. Jane had to bite her bottom lip once feeling the tightness return to her pelvis, stifling a moan and just enjoying every little sound pulled from him. 

Until she could feel his thrusts become sporadic and he hung his head to rest against her shoulder with a drawn-out moan feathering against her skin. But, she wanted to see him, how his eyes would seemingly change color when he finally cums; and she adjusted both hands to lift him in a silent plea. 

He must have understood, eyes never wavering from her own until the heat became borderline unbearable. His hips snapped aggressively until she could see something within him break first and he stilled with a guttural groan. The pulsing within her was apparent, her lips separating in an inaudible gasp, and using every ounce of what self-control she had left to not close her eyes. 

The open ocean. Jane wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of the light or lack thereof, but his eyes looked like the depths of the open ocean. Open water spanning hundreds to thousands of miles deep, and the brightest most refined blue she’s ever seen. 

She was going to compliment him actually, until she felt his body go lax above her, and his forearms gave out to lay himself along her chest. Of course, he was much heavier than her but the weight was a satisfying comfort and she started trailing her fingers, feather-light, along his back to soothe. His chest heaved with every breath, and she noticed she couldn’t quite catch her own as well. After a while, she realized maybe it was his weight on top of her, and she nudged him a bit, encouraging him to move. 

The grumble was rather charming as he lifted himself from her, their gazes meeting, and Jane could feel herself sober up that second, her lips sinking into a frown. 

What the hell did they just do…

~*~

During her shower, Jane was thinking of all the ways to try and apologize. All the ways to explain what happened and that it was her fault she had tempted him so. 

After giving her the pill Frank had mentioned, she took it with the first sip of water she probably had all night, not questioning exactly what it was. Instead, she wanted a shower immediately. Frank suggested he jump in with her, and he did for a bit - just enough to get himself cleaned up before leaving her to her thoughts. As she stood in front of the mirror, tying her robe over a nightgown he had brought in for her after leaving, she couldn’t help but stare with eyes wide at her reflection. 

Her hair already sat in damp loose curls above her shoulders, her eyes darkened in the low bathroom light, and her face appeared a little gaunt after having removed her makeup - finding all her lipstick to be completely gone before her shower. And, oddly enough, the woman didn’t look like her, didn’t feel like her as she stared. Trying to comprehend the woman she was becoming, the influence she seemed to be taking in like a sponge, and quick to remind herself just whose bathroom she was standing in - well, her bathroom now too. 

But exactly who she also just had sex with. 

Fontaine. Rapture’s most feared tycoon. A man who could fire her, kick her out, and leave her on the streets with absolutely nothing. Who competed with Ryan day in and out with his businesses, and won seemingly every battle. Who opened up an orphanage and poor house just for his image, but the look of cold, dead, apathy still creased his features in a permanent state of disregard and absolute smugness. 

And while part of her was mortified, the other part just couldn’t seem to give a damn. 

That other part was what had her quick to turn away from her reflection and return to the bedroom with a fire roaring in the hearth, finally warming the entire space. Frank sat in one of the armchairs with what looked like a glass of water in his hand, another sat on the accent table next to him. He turned to look at her over his shoulder as she approached, and he patted his lap for her to join him. 

Taking the second glass of water when he lifted it towards her, she took it with a small ‘thank you’ while sidestepping around the chair to place herself delicately on his knee. Of course, she immediately felt the tug on her arm to sit back further, and she let him reposition her. With both legs resting over the furthest arm of the chair as she laid against him sideways, his pair of flannel pajama pants were suddenly scratchy along her skin. 

Speaking of scratchy, Jane noticed then the plethora of raised red claw-like marks along his shoulders and chest raising a hand to touch some of them and still feeling a heat to some of the deeper marks. Seeing it all now startled her, and the gasp must have been obvious as he smirked before taking a sip of his water, one of his hands moving to rest along the outside of her thigh. 

“Marked me up pretty good. I can still feel some of ‘em.” 

Jane sputtered, “Frank, I - I’m so sorry -” 

He held up his free hand then, that smirk directed back towards her with a brow raise to accompany it.

“Doll, if I ain’t walkin’ away with marks, then I’m obviously doin’ somethin’ wrong.” 

Still, “Don’t they hurt?” 

The shrug was nonchalant, “Not really. They sting a bit, but nothin’ I can’t live with.” 

Feather-light touches ran the length of a few of the scratches cirss-crossing each other, matching her nails perfectly. And it’s not like didn’t think she was capable of making such marks, just a little surprised that he didn’t mind them. 

She took a sip of her water, the ice he added a godsent and she switched her attention to the fire, gazing off and watching the flames lick at the few logs added to the hearth. It all felt oddly domestic, his hand massaging the outside of her thigh where a few bruises were left from his grip earlier; she noticed those pretty quickly while in the shower. But his warm touch felt good, comforting, and she leaned back to lay her head along his shoulder. 

“Did we make a mistake?” Jane found herself blurting out, voice cracking and squeaking a bit. 

Frank didn’t respond right away, and the panic suddenly ballooned in her chest. Watching him take a sip of his water, Jane bit her tongue, wondering if she probably shouldn’t have said anything. He had asked her earlier in the night if this was a bad idea, to which she answered no - that she was aware enough. But now, she wondered if this was a threshold they maybe shouldn’t have crossed just yet. Something they should have waited to do without the influence of alcohol blurring their better judgment. 

“No.” He stated rather confidently, setting the glass aside on the accent table. “I don’t think we did. Do you?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He reached for her, his palm chilled from the glass along her jaw as he turned her to look at him. She almost expected to see some sort of hidden regret sitting just behind his indifferent mask. Instead, only adoration softened his features. 

“Did you - like it?” 

Jane nibbled on her bottom lip. “I did…did you?” 

The words were whispered against her cheek, “Of course. Didn’t think I’d make you cum twice though.” The smirk was slow to lift his lips and she scoffed, thumping his shoulder with her own as a fierce blush stained her face. 

“Shut up.” The giggle followed his chuckle to fill the minuscule space between them. But, if she wanted to be honest - “Though…if you would have kept going, it could have been three times.” 

The hum rumbled from his chest, eyes darkening a bit with the light from the fire behind him. “Hmm…gonna have to remember that for next time.” His hands returned to the outside of her thigh, hiking up her robe a bit to grab for another handful of her ass. 

Next time, huh? 

The hand not holding her glass lifted to run along the scruff lining his face, studying each of his features in the flickering shadows. She didn’t realize her own face must have fallen a bit and her name was a hush along his lips. 

“Jane, don’t worry ‘bout it, alight? You know just as well that no one else has to know, no one else needs to know.” Her attention lifted to him, finally. “We’ve got our lives out there,” His head nodded to the window behind them, towards Rapture. “But, we’ve also got this here. Just for us.” 

She leaned to rest her forehead against his again as he whispered, “An’ as long as you still want it, I’ll take it as well.” 

The nod was instant, with no hesitation. “I want it.” 

Then it was their little secret. For now. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

It must have been early when she felt the ghost of a kiss along her cheek, heard the hush as she stirred from a pleasant dream and the few words whispered to her that she didn’t even comprehend at first. 

“I’m gonna be out most of the day. Got a few things to attend to at the Fisheries.” 

Whether or not she acknowledged the words with a hum was beyond her, she couldn’t even remember if she opened her eyes before hearing the bedroom fall silent. Jane had to have passed out again for a couple more hours, a little confused to wake and find the spot next to her empty only to remember those words. 

The Fisheries? 

Jane lifted herself from the warm confines of the sheets with a yawn and satisfying stretch, feeling a few spots in her back pop. 

That’s right, she recalled Frank talking about the smuggler’s hideout before and how Sullivan’s been sniffing around the Fisheries where he very well shouldn’t. Something a little more serious must be going on if he’s getting up early on a Sunday to attend to these matters. 

Which meant - 

She threw the covers off her, feet swinging over the edge to find her slippers before getting up and making the bed. Grabbing for her robe slung over the loveseat, she ran a hand through her hair a few times to rid of any knots before leaving the bedroom. Stopping by Jack’s door, she found the boy to still be fast asleep. Perfect. Jane rushed down the stairs carefully, avoiding the annoying clapping of her slippers against the wooden stairway before pacing to the kitchen. 

It’s been some time since she’s made pancakes for Jack, so enraptured with her work at the lab and the gala that she’s taken to making simple and quick meals for the boy recently. Waiting for the day she could make his favorite banana pancakes again. Today was just the icing on the cake in that she could make a good bit of time for Jack, planning on spending the entire day with him and finally giving him the attention he’d been missing out on. Even if Reggie was quickly becoming Jack’s favorite person, Jane wanted to make sure he had more than one person in his life to care for him and show him that love and attention. 

Plus, it was Reggie’s day off. She’d be damned if she called that man in on his rest day when he’s already done so much for her and Frank. 

Gathering everything she needed within the kitchen, Jane started making the pancakes along with some bacon and eggs for herself. Frank must have at least made himself some coffee as the machine was still on and warm, and she changed the filter and grounds before brewing some for herself. 

She planned to hopefully wake Jack up with the smell of breakfast alone, wanting to surprise him with a fresh plate and the exciting news. Now, he was just a boy and the look of disappointment was always obvious on Jack’s face when she’d have to break the news to him every time she and Fontaine were going out for something. It broke her heart probably just as much as it dispirited him. 

Today, however, she had every intention of helping him with his studies that Tenenbaum had given him recently, reading to him, playing, taking the time to make his favorite meals, whatever he wanted to do.  

Just as she was finishing with the second pancake, little patters were heard racing down the stairs and the largest grin broke out on her face. Turning with his plate, she saw tufts of hair bouncing just beyond the island’s countertop with a squeaking “Miss Jane, Miss Jane!”.

Jack rounded the corner of the island, throwing his arms around her leg with the biggest smile on his face. 

“Good morning, Jack.” She beamed, a free hand lowering to rub his back and she set the plate aside. “Did you sleep well?” 

The boy gave an enthusiastic nod, releasing her leg to scurry over to his seat at the island. They went through his usual medication routine and Jane added a few pieces of fruit and syrup to his pancakes before sliding the plate over to Jack. 

“I could smell this all the way from my bedroom!” Jack exclaimed, cutting into the top pancake and scooping it into his mouth with an audible hum. “Thank you, Miss Jane!” 

She smiled with hands supporting her head on the island counter.  “Of course, I wanted it to be a surprise, Jack.” He met her gaze with wide eyes. “Because we’re going to spend the whole day together.” 

Jack bounced in his seat as he fed himself another bite, “The whole day?!” 

She chuckled, reaching for a napkin and sliding it across to the boy. He caught it with hands already sticky, wiping at his mouth with a matching giggle. 

“The whole day,” Jane confirmed, turning then to start on her breakfast. “I don’t have to go anywhere today, Jack. So we can work on your homework, read some books, play some games.” 

The smile was still etched onto his face as she turned to gauge his reaction, finding almost half of the pancakes gone by now with another forkful happily sitting in his mouth. It was a mystery where this kid was putting all that food. Even as his clothes started getting bigger, Jack remained - well - Jack. An average seven-year-old kid who looked like he ran with the pigskin players down in Arcadia. Fit, healthy, certainly a growing boy with a robust appetite for both her home cooking and knowledge. Even when she was young, Jane doesn’t remember reading quite nearly as much as Jack does; and besides fishing, reading was about all the entertainment she had too. 

Serving him another plate of two, smaller, pancakes and more fruit; she went to work on making her breakfast. A simple plate of bacon and eggs, she also brewed a cup of coffee and stood on the opposite side of the island picking at her plate. Between bites, Jack certainly couldn’t contain his excitement of being able to do things with Jane for the entire day. Rattling off a list of all the activities they could potentially do. And while Jane originally also had laundry on the list at some point, it was a chore starting to find its way toward the very bottom of that list. Oh well. They all had clean underwear, that she was aware of. 

After breakfast, Jack was more than happy to help her clean up and wash the dishes. They made a plan then on what to do for the day, Jack’s homework first, then his nap, and after? Whatever they felt like doing. The boy’s excitement was palpable as he raced towards his room to change out of his pajamas with Jane heading to change as well. 

She went back and forth between wearing a casual dress or pants and a blouse, opting for pants after thinking about all the moving she’d be doing. However, her attention snagged along her hips as she started dressing in front of a standing mirror next to her wardrobe. Bruises, she had almost forgotten about the little angry purple and blue markings littering her hips and along the outside of her thighs. Some still hurt to touch, most the size of a finger pad, much too large to be her own and she blinked several times rapidly. 

Damn, that was just last night? 

Come to think of it, she had been feeling pretty sore all morning too. And careful hands tried to count how many bruises there actually were, her hips turning side to side to see the extent of them, and found more on the back of her upper thighs. 

“Goodness, Frank.” She whispered to herself, heart fluttering at the memories flooding back. 

“…gonna have to remember that for next time.”

Next time. A flush bloomed along her face at the thought of more bruises lining her skin, the thought surfacing on how she didn’t mind them. Just like the scratches she had left him with, some of the bruises stung, but not enough that she couldn’t live with them. 

She’ll have to remember that for the next time too…

Luckily enough, though, they appeared to be easily concealable by her dresses and pants as none went too far up her waist either. She’d sure have a hell of a time trying to explain them if someone were to see them, as they weren’t likely to disappear anytime soon. Finally shrugging them off, she continued to get dressed, brushing out her hair, and pulling it together in a ponytail and headband. 

Leaving the bedroom, she found Jack at the end of the staircase with an armful of his notebooks and workbooks Brigid had put together for him. It was a recent addition to their routine, giving the boy “homework” of sorts to keep his mind sharp and developed to better match his body’s physical age. And he seemed to like the task, always asking Jane when she wasn’t busy to help, and she was more than happy to. 

They took their usual spot at the dining table, the only place that had enough room for Jack to lay out all of his workbooks. Now, Brigid had a set schedule on when Jack should be studying what, but Jane preferred Jack to pick out what subject he’d like to learn that day. It was easier for him to focus on a subject he wanted to learn rather than force him to learn math when he wanted to practice his spelling. Today, he was particularly interested in science, grabbing for his science workbook almost immediately when Jane asked him what he wanted to do today. 

“I wanna learn about those.” Jack shifted in the seat to point towards the window just next to the dining table. 

It took a second for Jane to realize what he was pointing at. “The sea stars? Sticking to the window?” 

The boy’s nod was eager, picking up his pencil and ready to write down whatever information to read over later. And yet, Jane could only beam at his request. 

“Of course, we can talk all about the ocean and the creatures you see swimming by your window, if you’d like?” 

“Yeah!” Jack bounced in his seat. “Papa Fontaine says you know all about the ocean.” 

Jane chuckled. “Well, not everything. The ocean is so vast. I don’t think anyone knows absolutely everything about the ocean just yet.” 

Jack’s eyes boggled a bit. “How big is the ocean?” 

Right, how does she explain this to a boy who’s never seen, has never known the world outside the labs, outside this complex? 

“Well -” She started by looking for a map of sorts in one of his workbooks, hoping to find one of the Earth, and smiled in triumph when she found one. Opening the workbook, she laid it out in front of the boy. “This is the world we live in,” Jane explained the map of the globe laid out flat then pointed to all the countries. “This is all land, countries, cities, towns. Everyone from Rapture came from one of these areas of land.” 

She saw Jack nod along from the corner of her eye as she explained. “Now, everything you see that’s blue, is water or one of the oceans.”

“One of them?” 

“Yes. You have the Pacific, Atlantic, Indian, and Arctic Oceans.” Jane pointed to each as she listed them. “Rapture is in the Atlantic Ocean right about here.” Her finger glided over to about where Rapture was situated. 

Jack was silent for a second, looking over each ocean that she had pointed at and wrote them all down in a list. Jane waited until he was finished and he looked up towards her with a smile. 

“Are each of the oceans different? Are there different animals that live there?” 

“Of course,” Jane grabbed for her journal left sitting across the table, flipping to a few pages with several notes and drawings she had done on several different open ocean species. “Each ocean is different in terms of temperature like the Arctic Oceans are very cold while the Pacific, Atlantic, and Indian Ocean can be warm near the equator here.” She pointed to the dotted line running across the middle of the map. “And, in each ocean, there can be different animals who like the warmer waters, or even the colder temperatures.” 

Jack tried to quickly write down all that she was saying, his handwriting certainly improving and she flipped to where she had written about sea stars in her journal. However, the next question he asked threw her off a little. 

“What’s the biggest animal that lives in the ocean?” 

“Oh, the biggest?” He nodded with a smile. “That would be the Blue Whale.” Jane went back to where she had some information on marine mammals, knowing for sure she had done a bit of research specifically on this whale species. “These whales can grow to be huge and may even be the whale calls you hear now and then.” 

He started writing again until he spotted her journal and stopped altogether to motion towards it. “Did you draw that?” 

A chuckle slipped and she pushed her journal closer to allow him to look through it. “I did. When I went to school on the surface, I had to learn and study a lot about the ocean and marine animals.” 

She couldn’t help the look of adoration as she watched Jack flip through her journal with careful hands as she answered any question he had. Eventually, they did get to the sea stars while almost abandoning his scheduled work for the day. However, Jane felt as if he learned quite a bit just from her and her journal, the boy completely forgoing writing things down and just listening and asking questions now and then. There weren’t many down in Rapture where she could share a love for the sea she’s had since a very young age. But Jack was almost a blank slate, hungry for knowledge and absorbing everything fairly easily. She even asked him a few questions, to see if he remembered anything they talked about, and found he retained a very good bit. 

Neither had been paying attention as the hours passed and Jack started getting hungry for lunch. Jane took to whipping up a favorite meal of his consisting of a simple ham and cheese sandwich with tomato soup. And when she returned with his food, her heart swelled to see Jack attempting to draw in his notebook what Jane had drawn in her own. Crabs, whales, fish, and even a few sea stars sat under his notes for the day and quite honestly, they weren’t all that badly drawn. She might have to invest in some good drawing paper and pencils for him, maybe even some paints or watercolors if Frank wouldn’t mind the potential mess. 

Christmas was approaching very quickly anyway.

After his lunch, the medication from earlier finally started kicking in. Instead of Jack pulling out a book for them to read, Jane suggested he take his nap first, and they’ll still have all the time after to read and play. However, just as she was done tucking him in and ready to leave, he called to her over the edge of his comforter. 

“Miss Jane, um -” 

“Yes, Jack?” She stood in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob.

“Um, is it ok if - can I call you Mama Jane?” 

The warmth bloomed in her chest, her look of surprise must have been obvious as the boy looked incredibly shy then. Words almost failed her as she opened her mouth to say something. 

“Oh - of course, Jack.” The grin was small as it crawled across her lips, “You can call me whatever feels most comfortable to you.”

His beaming smile was barely seen over the comforter, but he wiggled back down into his bed in delight as she closed the door until it was cracked just slightly. Jane took a few steps away from his bedroom only to stop and look back, the warmth still lingering in her chest and making her feel giddy.

Mama Jane? She quite liked the sound of that. 

~*~

While Jack took his nap, Jane found the time as good as any to start laundry and any other cleaning that needed to be done around the complex. She kept the radio on low in the kitchen as she mopped and started gathering ingredients for dinner that night. Surprised that Fontaine was still away, as long as he was already, she wondered how late he’d be out and if she should save any leftovers for him. It seemed like an obvious decision, but on too many occasions she'd leave food out for him only to find it cold and untouched later. At one point she stopped trying and if he wanted something, he knew where to find leftovers. If the man ever ate anything, sometimes he was worse than her. 

Humming along to the music just barely floating over to her, Jane swayed around the kitchen as she finished mopping. After, just as she was putting the mop away, she saw Jack had left his notebook and workbooks on the dining table. Curious, Jane opened his notebook to the notes he had been taking today to find all sorts of doodles and rushed bulleted lists. Some drawings looked similar to the ones she had done in her journal, and a fondness flooded her chest. 

“Oh, Jack -” The smile was small, tugging slightly at the corners of her mouth as she flipped through the next couple of pages to find more notes and drawings. Some even had little splatters of tomato soup that had dried and stained the pages already. 

“Can I call you Mama Jane?” 

The boy’s request kept repeating, floating around in her thoughts over the last hour she’d been cleaning and doing laundry. It made her giddy as she cleared the table, gathering all his workbooks and notebooks together in a neat pile for them to potentially come back to later. If he’d like. If it wasn’t for his ADAM medication making him tired, she knew they would have been there for hours talking about different marine animals and the ocean. The spark never left Jack’s eyes as she explained how smart octopi are, how deep the ocean may go, and how big some sharks can get. 

For him to feel that comfortable around her, to see her as this mother figure. It meant she was doing something right for the boy. A sense of conflict always plagued her lately, especially after she and Frank started going out a lot for Ryan’s galas and attending meetings for her projects. Jack would always end up under Reggie’s watch, and she was afraid the boy wouldn’t trust her as much. 

With one simple question, however, he was able to change her mind that she was doing everything right. And her love for the boy only grew, willing to give anything for him, to protect him in a heartbeat. 

As if he was the son she’d never have. 

~

It was a record, Jack’s shortest nap as he woke up about an hour and a half after putting him down. Usually, he’s out for at least two to almost three hours, Jane having to wake him up for dinner on occasion. But, as she was folding the last of the laundry from the dryer she heard feet come pattering down the stairs. As she leaned to the side to see around the closet’s door, Jack came jogging up to her with dirty blond hair askew and one hand rubbing at tired eyes. 

“Mama Jane!” He exclaimed and she swore she felt her heart flutter. “I had a dream about the ocean!” 

Jane put the last shirt onto the pile of folded laundry, pausing for a second. He had a dream? That was almost impossible, Brigid had told her and Frank that the amount of ADAM in the boy’s system had altered his brain to the point where he couldn’t visualize things, thoughts, dreams. However, there was mention of the medication alleviating this side effect, another reason why Brigid started giving him the lessons - to improve his visual thinking, memory, recognition, and maybe even dreams. Until now though, Jack never talked about dreams - and this honestly excited her just as much as being called mama. 

She knelt then to the boy and took his hands, her face lighting up. “That’s amazing, Jack!” The boy jumped up and down in excitement. “What did you dream about the ocean?” 

“I was swimming outside my window.” He beamed, pointing back towards the windows at the top of the stairs. “And I swam next to a whale and got to touch one of the sea stars. They were kinda bumpy feeling.” 

“That’s incredible! It must have been so amazing to experience.” Brigid will be more than thrilled to hear the medication and studies have both been working to a remarkable degree. 

Jane raised a hand to fix the boy’s tousled hair, smoothing it out as he talked a little more about the dream and how it felt so real to him. About how large the whale was, its gigantic eye staring right at him as he swam up next to it. Even as she handed him his dry clothes, walking upstairs with him to help put his laundry away, he wouldn’t stop talking about his dream. Of course, being that it was his first, she wouldn’t blame him at all for sharing such a unique experience. 

With one more chore checked off the list, Jack brought up the idea of playing a board game - his favorite being Scrabble as it helped with his spelling and words in general. And just like she promised, letting Jack grab the board game from another closet, she was happy to clear a table in the living area for them to play. 

It had also been a close game, but of course, she’d be rude to not let the boy win. Rather allowing him to take his time with different words, spelling some new ones he had learned recently, and suggesting new words he maybe has never heard before. In the end, it was all a trick of sorts as Brigid had language and spelling scheduled for his studies today. Jane was a tad smug towards the end about how she was able to give him the lesson and still able to play games. Just a bit of clever thinking and experience taken from when she babysat on the surface. 

And just as Jack started pleading for another round, Jane was happy to point out the time and how she should probably be getting dinner ready. The disappointment was evident until she mentioned potentially making his favorite dinner, tuna noodle casserole, and Jack’s mind was changed instantly. 

Oh, to be a young child and to have such a simple day be made wondrous with favorite meals, board games, books, and learning. 

She envied Jack on occasion. Granted he was an experiment of sorts, an illegitimate child developed using a substance just as exploratory and mysterious. But Jack was still a child who had a curiosity that rivaled the scientists at the Futuristics, and an innocence that sparkled in his big blue eyes. 

And when she placed a bowl of the casserole in front of the boy at the kitchen island, she watched him kick his feet in excitement and thank her for the meal. Smiling, Jane took a seat next to him at the island, the space between them filled with forks scraping and soft giggles. It was also only natural then for Jack to ask for a second helping, and she gave it to him with no hesitation. However, after taking only a few bites, Jack spoke up. 

“Where’s Papa Fontaine?” 

Jane stopped mid-bite, putting her fork down as a noddle slipped off and back into her bowl. It was honestly a question she’d been asking herself all day, avoiding any possible conclusion for the sake of her sanity. The worst kept popping into her head, especially after what had happened the previous night; all probabilities leading to him staying out as late as possible, avoiding her. And the rest? None of them proved any better and led to concerns of him also being locked up somewhere or in a bind with Sullivan or Ryan. At the same time, if anything was amiss, Reggie would call the complex and let her know. At this point, no news had to be good news. 

“He’s out, Jack.” It was the best answer she could give him. “This morning he told me there were some issues at one of his businesses and he’d be out for most of the day.” And yet, Jack took the answer like it was a normal occurrence. 

“Oh, ok.” She watched him take another bite, humming around the taste. Then, “Are you and Papa Fontaine dating?” 

Another noodle slipped off her fork, and she nearly dropped the whole thing into her bowl again. The chuckle was nervous, wondering where on earth the boy reached that assumption. 

“Dating?” First, how and where did Jack learn the concept of dating? 

“I read it in one of my books,” Jack stated rather matter-of-factly. “Where two people love each other, but they’re not married.” 

Ah. “Well -” How could she even begin to answer this question? “We’re not - dating. We do like each other, I suppose. But, as friends.” Of sorts, at least. 

“Do friends kiss each other a lot?” 

No, not really. And her laugh must have given that away at least that such actions of affection weren't common among people who were ‘just friends’. 

“No,” Her huff was a tad nervous, “Friends don’t tend to kiss each other - but it’s rather complicated, between Fontaine and I. Nothing to worry yourself about, ok?” 

Trying to brush it off as much as she could, she watched the gears turn in the boy’s head a bit. Probably trying to discern if it was something he should indeed worry about. If anything, it’s easier to be curious about them being together rather than seeing her and Frank fight and despise one another. 

She’d have much different feelings about him being away for as long as he was today if she didn’t care at all for him. 

Luckily, his questions stopped there as she encouraged him to finish his dinner and they might have time to play another board game after cleaning up. That prompted him enough and his second helping was finished in record time. His initial question, however, had stumped her appetite and she packed her portion - along with any leftovers - into a pot to store for later. Just in case Frank was hungry for once when he’d return home. Whenever that would be as she glanced at the clock again from the Scrabble game board, the low chimes indicating it was almost eight. 

If he’d return home. 

~*~

It was later, much later than she would have expected to hear the front door creaking, shaking open and closed. Jack was already in bed, fast asleep after reading another few chapters of his book. She had even cleaned up from dinner, showered, and was tucked in bed with a book of her own when she heard the telltale noise. Followed by the dragging of footsteps up the stairs, she felt the tension starting to seep through the cracks around the bedroom door and wasn’t sure if she should brace herself or not. 

He’d been out almost the entire day, and a million questions started to circle her mind on what the hell could be happening down at the Fisheries. And the rather spent look to warp his features told her not to go asking questions, right away at least. Instead, she watched him over the edge of her book; pacing to the loveseat at the end of the bed, shedding his suit jacket, and dropping the suspenders from his shoulders.  

His weary gray glance snagged her own just for a second before moving to his dresser, pulling out a pair of flannel pajama pants and an undershirt before changing into them. With attention glued to him, she found herself unable to look away from the faint scratch pattern still etched along his back, muscles shifting with each movement as he shrugged the undershirt on. However, as soon as he turned back to the bed, Jane immediately drew her attention to her book, pretending to be enveloped in the inked pages in front of her. 

From the corner of her eyes, she could see him crawl onto the mattress, still not having spoken a single word since he returned home. And it unnerved her a bit. Usually when something like this happened, where he’d have to attend to matters at the Fisheries, Department Store, or even the Futuristics, he’d have more than enough to say about whichever idiot doing something they had no reason to be doing. Instead, he didn’t even make it too far towards the head of the bed before collapsing close to her side with a deep sigh. 

While he didn’t seem too frustrated about the day right off the bat, she lowered her initial guard thinking he’d return pissed off, a ticking time bomb like how he was with Gil over the Big Daddy incident. An idea suddenly struck her then, dog-earing the page of her book and setting it aside. 

Jane lifted the comforter, sliding out to carefully position herself next to him on her knees. Reaching for him, gentle hands started massaging the muscles around his shoulders and neck; fingers finding some significant tension and a couple of knots riddling him. 

The groan was muffled against the comforter as he rolled his shoulders back into her palms with her right hand finding a particularly stubborn knot. 

The sudden hiss bleeding between his teeth startled her for a second as her fingers pressed harder into the knot, determined to rid him of this potential discomfort. After several seconds of working the tight muscle, another deep exhale left with any other tension that had been sitting heavy and suffocating. 

A smile was slow to crawl along her features, and she relieved some of the pressure from her fingers to rub tender circles just under the collar of his shirt. 

“You have to stop trying to carry the weight of the ocean on your shoulders, Frank.” Jane leaned forward to whisper along the shell of his ear. “Weekends are for resting, even for someone such as you.” 

He scoffed, his arms shifting from his sides to cross under and support his head. “Don’t think I know that?” She shrugged, a little taken aback by the slight condescending undertone. 

A hush settled over them as she continued her hand’s gentle movements along his shoulders, a little more timid now. Trying to find that knot again with her fingers digging along his muscles. However, when she did find it, he flinched with another sharp inhale. Instead of allowing her to keep working at it, she withdrew her hands rather abruptly when he suddenly moved to sit upright. 

Jane sat back on her knees and watched him crawl up towards the head of the bed, moving the comforter and muttering at the same time. 

“Sullivan tried arrestin’ one of my best wharf masters down at the Fisheries this mornin’.” He slipped under the bedsheets with a few frustrated huffs at the pain in his shoulders now. “Said he had all the probable cause we’re runnin’ a smugglin’ ring, an’ Wilkins was bein’ uncooperative when asked about it.” 

“I mean -” Jane huffed under her breath, fits clenching in her lap. “You sort of are.” 

Frank lifted his head to her, gaze narrowed and sharp. Yet, it felt like he was holding a butter knife to her anymore. 

“Yeah?” He leaned over to turn the lamp off on his bedside table, leaving Jane’s still on and casting a soft halo over the dim atmosphere. His shift in attitude was almost startling, creating a thousand-pound weight of fear to sit along her chest, assuming she had done something wrong. The panic choked her, leaving her breathless. 

“An’ Sullivan’s got no business nosin’ ‘round where he shouldn’t. Cop or not. Bastard’s just lucky he’s got a few cells an’ offices next door, otherwise, he wouldn’t be bothered tryin’ to dig up anythin’.” 

His features were shadowed, the harsh tone in his voice carrying off and up towards the arching ceiling as she remained towards the center of the mattress. And it wasn’t that she could disagree with him, especially against someone like Sullivan who was as close to Ryan as he was. She just wished he didn’t have to deal with annoying situations, such as this, on a Sunday. Especially on a Sunday following the night they had prior and how it seemed to have been an affair both were content to - avoid, rather? 

None of it sat well with her, but she’d be a fool to push it, to talk about it after the day he had. She just wanted to know if he was maybe regretting some things. Maybe the reason why he was out the entire day was to avoid her; avoid the previous night? 

That, or she was overthinking all of this and had no rhyme or reason to worry about anything. 

She had just been listening to him, nodding absentmindedly when he started going off about Sullivan. However, the glazed look in her eyes must have caught on and his rant slowed to a stop with his head tilting to the side. 

And he just stared at her for a second before clicking his tongue, nodding slowly. 

“C’mere.” Her fuzzed vision focused back to him as he spoke. 

But, before she shifted to move, Jane opened her mouth with the words falling short just at the end of her tongue. “Um, Frank -”  

He stopped moving before he was fully settled, and she halted her thoughts. 

“Yeah?” His voice just barely floated to her from his position and she shook her head with a welt growing in her throat. He wasn’t interested, it was obvious. He just wanted to go to bed without another word. 

It took everything to keep her voice from breaking. “N - never mind.” 

Her movement was sluggish as she also crawled back up towards her pillow, settling under the comforter and turning out her bedside lamp. The room fell into a briny darkness, and she held a hand to her chest to alleviate the ache to pin itself there. The last thing she needed was for her emotions to boil over, doing everything she could to keep the tears from falling. The overwhelming guilt that she may have done something wrong lay heavy against her back as she balled herself up. 

The warmth she’d usually feel, his arms wrapped around her to pull her body flush against his own, was also distant tonight. Never feeling his palms grab for her waist, never feeling his slow and steady breath as they’d both drift off to sleep. And she couldn’t figure out why. Especially when they had just talked about it the previous night, about how everything was fine and something they both were okay with. 

Maybe it was just a long day. Maybe it was just the fact that one of his employees was almost arrested, and he was tired. She’d feel the same as well, wanting to head to bed and drift off to sleep forgetting everything that had happened. It was these thoughts that settled the panic, calmed the anxiety, and quelled the dejection. And while she still never felt him pull her close that night, sleep came eventually with the promise of her project being a much-needed distraction tomorrow. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

She couldn’t even cut the tension with a serrated butcher’s knife if she tried. The air was so thick within the small space that it felt suffocating as if she was actively drowning. And what confused her the most, was how causally he was standing at the bathysphere’s lever, hands in his pockets like nothing was happening. Pure ignorant bliss.

Little to no words were even spoken that morning. In recent weeks as well, she was so used to the occasional affectionate touches as they’d be getting ready. Slight, and feather-light for someone such as him who certainly was not a morning person, and would usually grip her tightly while she’d be brushing her teeth. His head leaning and lolling against her shoulder as if he’d fall right back asleep standing upright like that. This morning, however, nothing. And while she had attempted to do her part, picking out a tie that would match his suit with a small smile; he’d only give her a distant look. His lips would barely lift at the corners, a potential smile that certainly did not reach his eyes and her brows furrowed in confusion. 

What was happening? What was wrong? 

Was the previous day still forcing him to stay in his funk? Was it Saturday night that still sat heavily on his shoulders like it did hers? 

At this point, Jane sat along the cushioned seat next to one of the bathysphere's windows with her purse clutched between recently painted fingers. The red stood out amongst the beige of her bag as she glanced down towards it to distract her conflicting thoughts. She recalled then if she had brought her journal for her appointment with Dr. Lamb that afternoon. A quick peak inside her bag confirmed she did, and a sigh relaxed her shoulders. If anything, she was looking forward to this appointment, it would at least give her time away from the headache standing just feet from her. 

As soon as they docked, Jane checked her watch with a frown pulling at her features. If being late was a concern, then they were two hours behind the traditional 8 am. However, Fontaine rather preferred to arrive late, especially with her as fewer people would see them together. Still, it took away time in the lab and she tended to make that up by staying a couple hours later. Today, however, with her appointment she was hoping to arrive sooner. But with whatever was going on with Fontaine, she couldn’t find it in herself to argue with him about that this morning. 

With the space between them still muted, he opened the hatch and waited for her to disembark first, following right after. The ocean water sloshed against the grated flooring under her flats as he closed the bathysphere hatch, both making their way from the docking station to the lobby of the Futuristics. Once at the threshold between his office and the labs, Jane paused to look back at the tycoon who followed with hands still buried deep in his pockets. 

“I have an appointment with Lamb this afternoon.” She started, her voice sounding fragile and a tad defeated. “I might be back a little late, but I’ll be taking the Express.” 

Don’t wait for me. 

He looked as if he wanted to say something, or if he wanted to step forward and give her a quick goodbye kiss like he’s done several times before. The guilt felt like a punch to the gut when he nodded, and instead of taking those steps toward him, she turned and started walking down the hall to the labs. 

Just as she was about to scan through to the tunnels, she glanced back down the hallway to find him still standing there too. Something kept nagging at her to go back, a confusion twisting in her stomach to go up with him to his office, to maybe talk about whatever was happening. 

No. He had a big meeting to prepare for later regarding her project, and she needed to head back down and check on the status of her plant samples. Taking a deep breath then, not sparing him another glance, Jane continued through the door to the first set of tunnels leading down to the labs. Clutching at her purse like it was a life preserver, she made the trek she’d already done several dozen times before. 

~ 

“How was the gala?” 

She had been scribbling gibberish, pencil scratching against her clipboard before lifting her head with a distracted, “Hmm?” Her eyes dragged up to meet Brigid’s. 

“The gala, Ryan’s gala this past Saturday. You had attended, correct?” 

“Oh,” Jane gave a weak smile and a soft chuckle to accompany it. “Right, yeah, I did.” 

Brigid reflected the subtle smile. “So, how was it?” 

Jane reached a nervous hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “It was ok. Ryan and I talked for a while about the project and any other related questions he had.” 

The scientist side-stepped a little closer after scrapping a kelp sample to place in a smaller tub of ADAM. 

“And? Did you tell him of your plan? To partner with the Industries?” 

The anxious chuckle bubbled from her chest. “I did, actually. I may have - um - failed to tell Fontaine about it beforehand. But, neither sounded too apprehensive about the initial idea.” 

Wide eyes met hers again and Jane tried to keep the smirk from lifting her lips. 

“You didn’t tell Fontaine?” 

She shrugged, jotting down one last note. “If I had told him before, he wouldn’t have let me recommend it to Ryan. Then where would we be?” Jane hopped from the hightop stool she had situated herself on. “At least sitting there between two of Rapture’s most influential people with an idea that can really benefit them both, they couldn’t say no.” 

Brigid shrugged with a soft chuckle and she grabbed for another kelp sample. Jane sat aside her clipboard then, shrugging off her lab coat to drape it along the stool. 

“I will say though, I’m rather satisfied things are moving as quickly as they are. There’s supposed to be a big meeting today about the potential partnership with the Industries.” 

The woman turned, the slight clinking of the tool she had been using to scrape the kelp samples halting with her movement. “Is that where you’re going?” 

“No.” Jane grabbed for her purse. “Going to another appointment with Dr. Lamb. I’m not sure how long it’ll take, but if we finish early I might be back.” 

“It’s alright.” Brigid smiled at her. “I’m sure these appointments can be rather - exhausting.” And while she didn’t outright say it, Jane knew Brigid had something against Lamb - that or she was rather skeptical of what the Doctor did and if these appointments worked. 

Jane couldn’t complain at least, it was rather nice to talk about things she otherwise couldn’t with anyone else. And instead of arguing with the scientist on whether she should return later or not, Jane gave her some final instructions with the kelp samples and went on her way. 

~*~

At this point, Lamb’s office felt all the more peaceful and familiar. The mustard hue and floral patterned couch no longer spelled imminent doom, allowing herself to succumb to the sinking cushions and relax. The tea Lamb would make her now a pleasantry she could indulge in during their conversation without it getting cold. And the journal, rather than being a dead weight in her lab that held the past and all she could never allow herself to acknowledge, became a coveted aspect of her day-to-day life. She usually didn’t go anywhere without it. 

“So, how are we, dear?” Lamb took her usual spot in the adjacent armchair and Jane nodded after taking a sip of her tea. 

“I’m doing well.” She smiled, genuine and Lamb beamed as well with crow's feet crinkling behind her cat-eyed glasses. 

“That’s wonderful to hear.” Lamb started with her usual note-taking but paused with a thought obvious and sitting on the tip of her tongue., “So, I wanted to ask - how was the gala? I must say I wasn’t expecting to see you there, but noticed you speaking to Ryan at one point.” 

Oh, honestly with how tall Lamb was, Jane was rather surprised she didn’t see the Doctor there. 

“It was good! My first gala, actually, but I was mostly there to discuss my recent project at the Futuristics to Ryan. There was a small article written about it in the Tribune I suppose he saw and wanted to get more information about it.” 

Lamb nodded slowly as she talked, not writing anything down but rather listening to her with her hand supporting her chin, elbow propped on the arm of the chair. 

“That’s wonderful, dear.” Another closed-lipped smile. “And - forgive me if I’m mistaken, but I saw you there with Fontaine as well. I assumed you both to be attending together and - I’ve actually never spoken to the man before.” Jane’s gaze narrowed towards Lamb’s brow raise as she commented next. “I was going to approach and say hello, ask to be introduced to the infamous tycoon, but - it appeared you both were rather…preoccupied with each other at one point. So, I thought it best to not interrupt.” 

Oh. Jane felt her face heat up, skin flushing at the hazy memory from the gala. She hadn’t been that drunk, but affected enough by the few glasses of wine to forget some details from the night here and there. However, the memory of his touch warm against her hip and her bold behavior - leaning in a little too close at one point - was one she could certainly not dismiss. No matter how much she wanted to. 

“We um -” Shit. “We were a bit intoxicated, I apologize.” The nervous chuckle echoed off the decorated walls of Lamb’s office. “I had a few drinks to um…to help during the conversation with Ryan. I was fairly nervous about the exchange.” 

Lamb chuckled a bit as well. “That, I do not blame you for, my dear. Many times have I engaged with Ryan and found I needed a drink even after the - sometimes - “short” conversations. If there was such thing with the man.” 

The tension drained from her chest, relief clearing her thoughts with Lamb able to relate to similar experiences.

“Perhaps another time. I’ve met many of Rapture’s greatest, but Fontaine is someone I have yet to speak to, to get to know.” 

Maybe that’s for the best. 

Jane only nodded at the woman’s request and yet felt something twist dangerously in her gut. 

She’s known Lamb and Ryan to get into their little debates, some publicized in the Tribune, on TV, and over the radio. However, they were both philosophical in their own rights, and their debates were something rather interesting to watch. But, the last person she’d expect Lamb to want to meet would be Fontaine. He had a knack for shutting down every and all emotions, responses, and expressions when talking to someone he disliked; Jane couldn’t see any sort of conversation between the two proving stimulating or productive. That’s where the dangerous churning started in her stomach. Lamb had other objectives, if any of her previous questions about her and Fontaine haven’t already started setting off alarms. 

No, they weren’t here to talk about Fontaine. They were here to talk about her parents, and Jane was quick to change the subject. 

“Rather off-topic, I completed the letters you wished for me to write today, for my mother and father?” 

Lamb lowered her gaze, eyes sharp and feline-esque as she raised another brow towards her and Jane started to shrink in on herself a bit. Yet, the smile still never from the Doctor’s features and she hummed. 

“Yes, of course.” Lamb lifted her clipboard and pen again while clearing her throat. “We can do this the same as we did with your previous letter, or if you’d wish for me to read them?”

“I’m ok to read these,” Jane interjected, wanting to move on from their previous conversation as soon as possible, and opened her journal to her first letter to her mother. 

And in all honesty, she knew these letters would be easier compared to the one she wrote for her Frank. Her mother’s was a goodbye, telling her all that she wished she could have before she got sick. Telling her where she was now, all that she’d accomplished since her mother’s passing. That she never gave up on her dreams and stayed persistent, even when the world was telling her no. Reading the letter to her mother felt comforting, a peaceful closure she’d never been able to do since being consumed with life, school, and Rapture. Writing it had been just as cathartic, not reading it aloud to anyone until now. 

Lamb handed her the tissue box again when Jane was done. But rather, these tears were ones of happiness, knowing her mother to be there listening and whispering gentle words of pride and love. Lamb hadn’t taken too many notes either, just listening instead and acting as that ear Jane needed, especially as a young girl losing her mother. 

The letter to her father, on the other hand…

There was an uncomfortable welt to lodge itself in her throat when she flipped a couple of pages to where the letter to her father was written, after having calmed herself a bit from her mother’s letter. Lamb must have noticed her hesitation, halting her pen’s movement with a softer smile. 

“I know we haven’t spoken much about your father, but take your time. Just like with your first letter, start wherever you’re ready.” 

Jane took a deep breath, vision blurring a bit as a welling of tears gathered on her bottom lids.

She didn’t know if her father was still alive or not, the first words in the letter to him, cutting off almost all communication with him after she moved back to Maine to attend college. But she had hoped he still was, living in comfort and happiness in New York. 

Jane wrote how amazing of a father he was when she was younger, both him and her mother working to give her the best of life and its experiences. While they may not have had a lot of money and didn’t live in a large, fancy house; the memories were rich and fulfilling enough. 

Fishing with her father, their boat bobbing on calm seas with hushed voices pointing out fish swimming just below the surface, was a favorite memory. The morning fog settling over them like a blanket with the rising sun barely cutting through. He’d talk to her about recognizing specific fish, to not be afraid if they spotted a shark, or to be quiet if a pod of dolphins decided to swim by. He taught her to appreciate life under the waves, to be excited about it, and to be respectful towards it. 

Along with her mother, her father shaped her love for the sea and supported her growing passion throughout her childhood. She just wonders why it all fell apart. 

She asked why they grew apart. Why he was so quick to start dating again, without telling her? Having a few relationships without her fulling knowing? Of course, after finding makeup around the apartment that certainly wasn’t hers or had been her mother's, or clothes of similar fashion, she knew something was going on. But, the fact that he had kept quiet about it, as if she’d be disappointed in him, especially so soon after her mother’s - his wife’s - passing. 

The letter went on to explain how she was rather disappointed in the women she’d often see, out for her father’s money and not for a love he felt he needed. As this was happening, she only felt pushed away, and forgotten about as she continued her daily routine of school and simple jobs of babysitting and waitressing. 

And when he remarried, it was then she felt she no longer had a place in his heart and left. Forgotten about as his new job would keep him for hours even after the workday, left to tend to the house as he’d meet women at local bars, she could no longer stay and hurt as she did. Instead, Jane vowed to put herself first, moving away to start college, and then grad school. It’s what her mother would have wanted, and her father, if things had been different. 

Jane didn’t elaborate on much in her letter, other than the disappointment she had in her father for his actions and remarrying for the physicality of someone rather than the love. His new wife, her stepmom, was almost 10 years his junior - a woman after his wealth accumulating rather quickly from his new job. She was unbearable to be around, flaunting every gift he bought for her while Jane was practically forgotten during holidays and even on her own birthday. Her father became consumed by the lavish lifestyle, forgetting the simplicity her family had when she was growing up, finding happiness in experiences instead of material things. Her mother would be furious and disappointed as well. But she was gone, and Jane had enough. 

She ended her letter with the hope that her father still thought about his daughter, and hoped she was doing well and excelling in life. Telling him that she had met someone before moving from Maine, hoping to see the man again and spend the rest of her life with him. A lie, of course, but deep down she still loved her father, writing to him as if she was still living the life she had on the surface.

Tears did not stream from her eyes as she thought they would. Instead, Jane sat rather rigid along the couch with her lips in a tight line as she took a few deep breaths. It wasn’t rage or anger that suddenly flooded her chest, but a peculiar sense of discontent with her father and the fact she just never received answers - similar to her Frank. And she was ready to leave him behind with her previous life. 

“The relationship with your father sounds - rather complicated. Do you think you’re still carrying some of that relationship with you?”

Jane had to calm her breathing first, and the bubbling anger heating her face. “Possibly.” She cleared her throat. “I couldn’t trust my father, once he started dating again and kept it from me. It’s been hard to trust people after I moved out.” 

“Even down in Ratpure?” 

She watched Lamb scribble something down, not even looking up at her as she asked the question. 

“I would say so. I have a few friends, but it took some time after getting to know them before I was completely comfortable with them; could trust them to know me.” 

The hum quickly filled the pause and Jane sat up a little straighter at Lamb’s next question. 

“Does that include Fontaine?” 

That dangerous twisting returned to her stomach, her thoughts stumbling on themselves with a response, and yet she had a strange feeling this was going to lead back to him. 

“I - I would say so, yes. Being that he was my boss before anything and now…now I’ve been living with him for a few months.” 

And getting rather cozy both in private and public, from what Lamb saw at the gala. 

“Has that trust improved at all?” 

What did this have to do with dealing with her strained relationship surrounding her father? 

“Um - I would say it has. I wouldn’t still be there if it hasn’t, but I wouldn’t also hesitate to leave if something strained that trust with him.” 

The pen etched almost furiously, the Doctor’s notes appearing as chicken scratch from where Jane could peak over the edge of Lamb’s clipboard. 

“Is there something in particular with Fontaine that you didn’t see in your father? That’s allowing you to trust a little easier?” She tapped the end of the pen against her pointed chin. “Of course, I only ask because the man isn’t too well known for being trustful or truthful for that matter. It’s quite intriguing to see the shift.” 

“Ah -” Jane slowly closed the journal, gripping the edges of it to steel her nerves. “I guess - it’s because he does remind me of my Frank from the surface. He was about the only man I could trust…the only person I could trust after what happened with my father.” 

Lamb looked at her over her glasses, those striking blue eyes piercing through her, picking apart every piece of her soul and comment. “It’s rather curious, don’t you think?” 

The sputtering was less graceful than she intended it to be, a retaliation on the tip of her tongue but becoming tangled in her suddenly whirring thoughts. 

“No, they’re not the same person, they can’t be. That’s absurd.” Lamb had even said so herself…

Is that why she took such a keen interest in the man, trying to wedge herself into Jane’s life at his complex to try and fit the pieces together? After all, Jane knew many things about the tycoon that the rest of Rapture was oblivious to. She could ruin him, Lamb could ruin him, if the right words were unknowingly spoken. She’s seen how ruthless the Doctor was at picking apart Ryan, exposing all of his ill thoughts and conflicting opinions.

The silence forced Jane up from her spot on the couch, Lamb’s feral gaze still pinned through her like a butterfly to a corkboard. A thought fixed itself between her teeth, but the courage failed her to speak it. Instead, Jane drew her journal in close to her chest with Lamb standing from her seat as well. 

“I - I forgot, I have another appointment I need to get to.” Realizing they were already about an hour over their allotted time, she didn’t have anything following this appointment but needed to get out, now. “I apologize, Dr. Lamb -” 

Lamb held up her palm, setting her clipboard aside as she stepped toward Jane with a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 

“Nothing to worry about, dear.” She walked them both out the door of her office. “Shall I call you after the holidays to schedule an appointment into the new year?” 

Jane was quick to stuff her journal back into her purse with a nervous chuckle.”Yes, that’ll be fine. Again, I apologize.” 

“It’s as I said.” Lamb stopped them at the front desk, her assistant busy on a call with someone. “I’m glad you were able to share those letters today. Especially with your father. I do hope you have a nice holiday and rather reflect on the good, happy memories.” 

The nod was enthusiastic as she wished her a happy holiday as well, quick to exit the office and pace back towards the Express station. 

The clutch on her purse’s strap slung over her shoulder was tight, nails digging into the faux leather until she realized her death grip and loosened it a bit. Her head felt like it was on a swivel, looking side to side as if everyone around her could read her as easily as Lamb apparently could. An open book for anyone to step up and flip through, and it scared the hell out of her. 

~*~

It was late when she returned to the complex, the Express taking more stops than she had anticipated, and regretted for a moment not taking the bathysphere. The ride had exhausted her more than anything, she just wanted to get back and treat herself to a nice long, hot shower. 

Stopping in the kitchen before heading upstairs, she just wanted to make sure everything was cleaned up from dinner, or at least from the leftovers Frank probably gave Jack. Not finding a significant pile in the sink, the relief was a weight off her chest and she made the trek upstairs. Jack was in his room reading when she peeked in, trying not to disturb him, Jane continued quietly up the stairs to the bedroom. 

Through the frosted wall, she could see Frank in his office on the phone with someone, pacing with the phone’s cord keeping him on a leash circling his desk. He’d throw his arms up in a dramatic fashion, his harsh tone echoing throughout the space, muffled by the walls. Smoke filled the room from a cigarette balanced between his fingers, the trail of silver plumes following the waving of his hand as he chewed out whoever was on the other line. 

Now felt as good as any time to slip into the shower, not quite ready to face him yet after the appointment she just had. She took no time then, dropping her purse on the loveseat and toeing to the bathroom, peeling her clothes off as they fell to the floor in heap. 

The shower felt amazing, all the day’s worries scrubbed from her skin and left to spiral down the drain. When she was washing her hair, however, an immense sorrow overtook her as she began digging too deep into her thoughts from the day. 

How had she let Lamb poke and prod her as she did? Ask all those questions about Fontaine, comparing him to her father. Comparing him to her Frank from the surface? Especially when they had talked about separating them, so she could finally move on from her past. 

She should have seen how things could have escalated and should have assumed immediately as Lamb started commenting about them at the gala. What was supposed to be an appointment she was rather looking forward to, to help mourn the loss of her mother and try to understand the complicated relationship with her father; turned into a quizzing session concerning their “situation” and Fontaine in general. 

It hurt, to be used as such, and the lump in her throat choked her as she tried to conceal the pain. 

Turning the water off not too soon after rinsing her hair, Jane took her time drying her hair and gathering her clothes to set in the laundry basket. It was only 6:30, and yet she felt completely drained. Leaving the bathroom, she found the bedroom to still be empty with Frank probably still in his office. A fire crackled in the hearth, warming the space and tempting her towards the bed. Even though it was still early, she couldn’t help but bury herself beneath the bedsheets. Not even bringing herself to read a bit from her book, instead, she lay there trying to keep warm as the ghosts of her past started circling her thoughts again. It was then she felt the dam starting to crack, the tears stinging her eyes as they fell silently, staining the pillow beneath her. 

~*~

The headache plaguing him was intense, temples throbbing as he slammed the phone back down on its receiver. His cigarette had nearly burned his fingers before he flicked the butt of it into a near ashtray, a bit of ash trailing along with it and speckling his desk. He swore to hell and back that if Ryan’s marketing team at the Industries didn’t just fucking cooperate with him on this project, he was gonna go knocking on Ryan’s door himself and make him sign the agreement forms then and there. 

Taking a few deep breaths, Frank gathered all the paperwork that had been flung around on his desk over the past hour or so. Trying to at least organize the pile back into its folder before turning in for the day. However, just as he exited his office with the fleeting thought on whether Jane was home yet or not, he paused in the doorway to see her already in bed with the blankets drawn up and covering her completely. 

He didn’t move for a few seconds, glancing down at his watch to see that it wasn’t even 7 pm yet and a mix of confusion and concern furrowed his brows. 

Frank wasn’t dumb, able to recognize how off she was this morning, and even admitting he was a bit himself. Yesterday was a wrench in his plans, not meaning to be out the entire day trying to pry Sullivan’s claws from his Fisheries and one of his best wharf masters. The entire thing had set him on edge, pissed at the cop, pissed over the fact he had to clean up after the incident, and pissed he came back to the complex as late as he did. 

All with Saturday night sitting on his conscious and if they were sober enough to make the decisions they did. If Jane regretted it in any way, the crease to her brows telling that night as he consoled her, reassuring her he at least had no qualms. 

It stung even more as he knew Jane meant well yesterday and was surprisingly good with her hands at trying to work the tension from his shoulders. But he was already wound too tight, and the pain from the damned knot in his back was setting his teeth on edge. He knew dismissing her as he did was a little cold-hearted, saw how defeated she looked when he pried himself away from her comforting touch. He wasn’t dumb and certainly saw the effect of his cold shoulder this morning as she barely spared him a second glance, going their separate ways for the day. 

She also had her appointment with Lamb and must have returned from that within the last hour. Although, these appointments have been going well so far, for her to be shut up like this was a little off. Of course, he’d set half the blame on himself, and seeing her like this softened the consistent irritation that had been hardening him all day. 

Loosening his tie, he removed all the suffocating formal wear, tossing it aside and just barely missing the laundry basket. The bed was large enough that she probably couldn’t feel him crawl up onto it from his side. After lifting the comforter, however, he watched her immediately cower in on herself. Tightening the ball she was already impossibly compacted into with a visible shiver to shake her shoulders. 

Positioning himself underneath the blankets, he moved carefully with touch soft along her back to let her know he was there. She didn’t move for a few seconds as he propped himself on one elbow on the pillows behind her, slightly elevated. His fingers trailed from her back to her shoulder and down her arm, watching goosebumps rise along her bare skin. She still didn’t move, didn’t shift, and he slipped his hand down from her waist to pull her gently back towards him. The rise and fall of her chest picked up, breathing a tad heavier as if panicked and he stopped. Before he could remove himself altogether, maybe thinking this wasn’t what she wanted at the moment, she started turning. 

Her cheeks were wet, eyes red and puffy, crying so silently. His stomach knotted, seeing the overflow of thoughts through the tears and an overwhelming sorrow shadow her features. Sniffing a few times, more tears streamed down her face and she leaned forward, forehead thumping against his chest. Instinct took over as he pulled her close, not hesitating to wrap his arms around her, whispering apologies into her hair to try and calm her down. 

Of course, he’ll have to eventually explain everything, ease her, and listen in the process. But for now, it was Jane, soothing the shaking of her shoulders and drying the tears fuzzing her vision. 

They’ll talk later. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

He had asked her to stop going to Lamb, and she agreed. 

Neither of them had slept well that night, Frank leaving at some point to finally put Jack to bed. Jane also thought that her emotional purge would have been enough to render her exhausted. But the appointment with Lamb still sat sour in her mouth, feeling dirty that she had been vulnerable and Lamb had been so distracted and exploitive. And as Frank held her while she explained what happened, she could feel his anger radiate. He had asked her then not to book another appointment, for both their sake, and she didn’t hesitate to agree. 

It wasn’t too soon after, had she finally calmed herself down enough, did she ask him about his strange behavior over the last day or so. How it almost seemed as if he was avoiding her, avoiding what had happened that Saturday. His response almost surprised her with how much she’d convinced herself something was wrong. 

“I don’t regret anythin’ from that night.” His fingers twirled through her hair once he’d finally settled down under the comforter with her. “Things were just a shit show yesterday, never should’ve happened in the first place.” 

His attention lowered to where she was clinging to his front. “Do you? Have any regrets? You seemed a bit conflicted that night.” 

“No.” The word dripped from her lips. “And I still don’t.” At least she was right in thinking the whole situation at the Fisheries was what put him in a funk, relief flooding her chest to know it wasn’t anything she had done. 

“Then stop worryin’ ‘bout it.” He teased, flicking the hair that was wrapped around his finger back over her face. “Can’t be worryin’ ‘bout us fuckin’ when we’ve got a huge-ass meetin’ today.” 

Jane huffed, the puff from her breath blowing the hair from her face and she peeked over his shoulder to his bedside clock. It was almost 1:30 in the morning and a groan erupted from her chest. There was little to no exaggeration on his end at the mention of the “huge-ass” meeting, it was borderline monumental for Rapture. 

It was the meeting between Ryan and Fontaine, the Industries and Futuristics. Jane had been rather surprised to find this meeting to occur as soon as it was, especially after just talking to Ryan about it a few days ago. However, Frank was telling her that he had been on calls the entire day with both Ryan and his team confirming they wanted to go ahead with the collaboration as soon as possible, just in case Fontaine were to have any second thoughts. Frank apparently couldn’t hold back the chuckle at that, thinking they were doing it in case Ryan was to hesitate. 

Although, Jane was to be a part of this meeting as well, giving a more formal proposal for the project with the gritty details for the press and both participating companies. It gave her little time to prepare anything, panic evident in the shake of her voice and nervous twitch to her fingers as they fidgeted with his shirt. 

“You’ll be fine.” He had started to reel her in with her runaway thoughts. “Just tell them what you pitched me originally, an’ what you told Ryan. Nothin’ too extravagant, or complicated, just highlight what you were sayin’, ‘bout Rapture bein’ sustainable with the ocean, or whatever.” 

She twisted the material between her fingers, teeth nibbling on her lower lip as ideas began bombarding her on an official project proposal. The meeting wasn’t until the afternoon, she at least had a good bit of the morning at the labs to work on something. That is if she could convince Frank to leave early enough to allow her time to prepare. 

After not responding for some time, she watched his hand lift to tug at her wrist, pulling it away from his shirt with a soft kiss to the pads of her fingers. She stared, skin tingling from his touch as he hummed. 

“You’re gonna wrinkle my shirt.” The whisper was soft, barely filling the space between them with a smile to quirk her lips.

Her eyes started to take on about a ton each, finally feeling herself succumb to exhaustion as she mumbled, “They’re your undershirts, it’s ok.” Jane struggled to lift her eyes to his own, every move feeling sluggish now as sleep began creeping up on her. “I think the only person who’s seen you in them has been me anyway.” 

The ghost of a smirk was rather felt than seen when she blinked slowly, her eyes staying closed for a second or two longer.  

“I can take it off, if you want.” 

Another hum vibrated from her chest, “And what? Do you think it’ll help?” 

“Help you fall asleep - maybe.” 

She was already well on her way as he sat up a bit to lift the cotton material over his head. Tossing it back behind him, whether it hit the floor or elsewhere on the bed, Jane was quick to shift closer. Remnants of his cologne lingered on his skin, another aspect of him that was quickly becoming addicting and she buried her nose in the crook of his neck.

“Mm - alright, this helps.”  

He was warm, a solid reassurance she could cling to and fall asleep against. The few tender pecks to her forehead had the smile on her lips stretching as her eyes slid shut and remained closed. At this point, they only had a few hours of sleep to indulge in before potential chaos ensued throughout the day. But, she’d take it. Especially after knowing things were alright between them. 

~*~

To say that this whole experience was absolutely terrifying was a gross understatement. Jane had felt something in her back pop as she straightened her spine, beyond what was normal and comfortable, during the photo with Fontaine and Ryan. Her cheeks hurt with the overly sweet smile permanently etched onto her face, and her hand ached with the few firm handshakes divvied out before the meeting. Spots started popping up in the corners of her vision from the constant flashes from the Tribune’s cameramen, and the building heat within the meeting room from the dozen or so bodies started making her nauseous. 

She had already downed a few glasses of water, partially to steel her nerves and to cool herself down in the long black pencil skirt and quarter-length-sleeved maroon blouse Frank helped her put together this morning. So used to wearing casual dresses, pants, and a causal blouse under her lab coat, Jane realized how little business attire she had in her wardrobe. If all went well today, she might have to treat herself to a day on the High Street shopping for clothes. 

And yet, just Frank’s reaction to her overall outfit alone had her debating on whether she should dress up a little more while down in the labs. They were almost late getting the Futuristics this morning as she found it impossible to try and pry him away from her. Still feeling the trail of his mouth, hot along her neck as he peppered her skin in near-bruising kisses that morning, a warmth had settled in her pelvis and refused to leave. She had tried buttoning up her blouse at the same time his lips scorched her skin, his hands slipping inside the garment to grab at her waist and pull her closer each time she tried to stumble away. But he wasn’t letting her go so easy, even undoing the clasp of her bra at some point to mouth along the swell of her breasts, thumbing over each nipple until she was left a whining mess in his arms. 

“To help with the nerves.” He hushed at some point when she asked where this was all coming from. 

She eventually had to beg him to let her go, so they could leave and get to the Futuristics in time for her to prepare her proposal, he had stepped away from her rather reluctantly. Leveling her with a stare as she fixed her clothes and hair, his gaze alone sent a shiver along her spine with a chilling promise. 

We’re not done here. 

The burning in her pelvis to pool between her legs never relented, even as she practiced her pitch a few good times in her lab before feeling confident enough. She had paced between the tables, trying to quell the heat to stain her face and sit like a lead-bearing in her abdomen. Even stopping a few times to calm her breathing, Jane honestly couldn’t tell if all of this was due to general nerves, or having to stand up there in front of Frank who probably still hadn’t moved on from that morning. 

It would be an incredible challenge for both to keep a straight face throughout the afternoon. And yet, it was one she was willing to accept; making his hard exterior shatter and his otherwise professional posture squirm in front of her. Confidence straightened her spine, and she popped open another button to her blouse before she made her way up from the labs to the marketing conference room. 

This was going to be delightful. 

Once upstairs, she didn’t even make it to the conference room before suddenly being bombarded by a few journalists from the Tribune. All asking her questions she’d surely get to during her presentation for the project, and she politely tried to shoo them away with such a promise. They were persistent, however, all with notepads ready to write down anything uttered by her and cameramen closing in. Before she could cry out to leave her alone, a familiar voice rose above the crowd suffocating her - calling her name - and everyone instantly turned. 

Fontaine stood in the doorway to the conference room, hands in his pockets with a glare fixed among the journalists and photographers, and they parted for her to walk rather quickly towards him. Her heels clicked as she strode along the tiled floor and his palm settled along the small of her back, leading her through the doors, hissing through his teeth. 

“Fuckin’ vultures.” 

With a slight glance back towards the journalists, a few of them were talking to their respective cameramen while others watched her intently; narrowed eyes quizzical at the tycoon’s treatment of her, some were already jotting down a few notes. 

Feed into the rumors, she recalled he had commented the other night, have a little fun with ‘em. 

Where they rumors anymore, though? 

Inside the conference room felt just as chaotic with people gathered in groups, multiple conversations tugging her attention this way and that. There were others she recognized from the marketing department setting out glasses of water along the table, more sporadic movements that put her on edge after the journalists. The slight push to the back of her waist guided her to where she’d be sitting at the large oval table, up towards the head next to Fontaine’s chair and everything seemed to hit her like a train then. 

Grabbing for the glass of water on the table, her first of many, with a shaky grip, she took a generous sip while mumbling, “I don’t think I can do this, Frank -” 

He had a whiskey, sipping it as well and he turned to her with a brow raised. 

“Come on, Jane.” The smile was a little reassuring with his hand returning to her waist. “You’ll be fine. You’ve already explained all this to Ryan, just have to win over his entourage.” 

Frank wasn’t wrong. After practicing her proposal so much, it felt like deja vu from the gala, knowing Ryan was already aware of a good percentage of the project itself. It seemed as if it didn’t matter what the rest of Ryan’s group would think, as long as he was already on board. 

Once she was able to calm the shaking of her hands, Frank took her around to introduce her to a few of Ryan’s right-hand men who’d come to join them. At some point, the three of them - Ryan, Fontaine, and Jane - had gathered to take a photo for the Tribune. Jane stood in between the two men with Fontaine’s grip lowering along her spine just before the photo to grab a handful of her ass through her skirt. It was quick, but his grip had been hard enough to ache a bit after and set a fire alight in her abdomen. Once the photographer got what he needed, they separated with Jane giving him an incredulous quirk of her brow and he shrugged. 

It would certainly only be the first of several possessive touches he’d give her following up to the meeting. However, it happened especially the closer she got to Ryan, the moments she’d speak with him to confirm a few things about her proposal, what was ok to mention, and what should be kept between them for the time being. Frank would always find himself in the empty spot by her side or behind her, a hand consistently on her hip, waist, or arm. And it didn’t bother her so much as it was reassuring in her nervous state. Ryan had only acknowledged the action once or twice, the first time with his brow raised and no comment to follow. While it was comforting, knowing Fontaine was there to help alleviate any tension and nervousness, she couldn’t help but feel it was wrong. 

These rumors about them really didn’t exist outside of the Futuristics, except for what Lamb assumed. And while she was so used to his antics by now, she couldn’t help the fierce flush to her cheeks at the thought of others from the Industries or Tribune watching them. 

Time flew by after that, and Jane tried to establish herself amongst the group and introduce herself to as many people as she could. Hopefully, after getting everyone’s name and being able to match them to faces, she’d feel a tad more comfortable standing up and talking in front of the room. 

And sooner than later did she find herself taking up space at the head of the oval table, standing in front of a chalkboard that had a drawn out and labeled example of her plan and use of the Industries energy systems. Seeing everyone around the table made her realize there weren’t as many people as she thought there were scattered in the room before. Still, having all these eyes on her grew a welt in her throat, the vulnerability was all she could think about standing up there in the outfit she was. 

Jane had also almost completely forgotten she had undone another button on her blouse for the sake of teasing Frank, not realizing she’d still be up giving a professional proposal with her chest as exposed as it was. Nothing scandalous, but certainly more than what she was used to. 

Nerves had threatened her voice to waver and crack, hands gripping the pointer stick and wringing it between her palms as she tried to steady her breathing. Almost immediately, she snagged her eyes on Ryan, holding his gaze like a vice as she began explaining the beginning stages of her project. Part of her reasoning, or what she kept telling herself internally, was that she’d already explained to Ryan her project and its intentions; feeling comfortable re-explaining things to him but in greater detail. 

Pointing to the chalkboard now and then, her spine straightened a bit and her shoulders relaxed the further she got into her project, confidence finally steadying her voice. No one knew this project more than her. No one knew these findings and this field more than her. At this moment, she was the smartest person in the room, and that thought cycled on repeat the longer she talked. And when it appeared she wasn’t losing anyone yet with all this talk of marine fauna and ADAM, she went ahead and started explaining the bigger picture. 

“With the Industries permission, of course, the Futuristics would like to partner with Mr. Ryan and utilize the energy systems that Rapture uses. Providing the city with an alternative energy source to help power our electricity such as our building signage, our lights, heating, air conditioning, and televisions. Natural, organic, and - now - almost unlimited; it’s a less invasive process and uses a resource we, as a city, have already adapted; ADAM.” 

Jane paused to gauge the rest of the committee’s reactions, along with the Tribune’s reporters. Everyone had some sort of intrigued expression twisting their features, but nothing concerning or problematic. Even Ryan sat towards the head of the table, where she was, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips - like he already knew this was a shoo-in and was waiting for everyone else to follow.

“Mind you, this is not an alternative.” She added. “Seaweed, kelp, and other marine fauna aren’t enough by themselves to power an entire city; it’s merely an aid with Rapture’s current natural energy source to help alleviate our effects on the environment surrounding us.”

It seemed that alone was enough for some of Ryan’s group to turn to one another and nod in approval, Ryan throwing her a wink as well, and she felt her smile beaming. However, Jane had started to notice a strange burning sensation along the left side of her face, and a quick side glance stolen in Fontaine’s direction confirmed his almost feral glare, his attention rather sharp and unwavering on her. His leg had also been bouncing the entire time, it was quite distracting, only ever seeing him do it when pissed off or antsy. 

Curiosity got the best of her then, and she wanted to push him more. 

Not too soon after she finished answering a question from the Futuristics’ marketing team, Ryan called for her attention at a folder he had in front of him. There were a few papers explaining the mechanics of how their energy resource would be made and how similar it would be to the consistency of the magma they were currently using; so they didn’t have to alter the piping much for Jane’s energy source.

His question to further clarify they wouldn’t need to do extensive alterations had her bending at the waist to better see the notes, fully aware that Ryan could see down her blouse if he chose to twist his neck even an inch to the left. Jane kept her focus on his notes, a painted nail guiding her eye across a paragraph stating all of this as she hummed to herself. 

“This shouldn’t be a problem at all, Mr. Ryan.” Prompting his attention towards her, a wicked grin broke out on her features watching his gaze glance ever so quickly down her shirt. And his eyes zipped up towards her face with an equally smug twist to his lips. “The scientists working with me on converting the fauna samples into a conductive liquid base are still in their final stages but should be ready to use in an official energy system in a couple of weeks. Based on what they've told me, there should be no necessary changes to the system's piping.” 

Ryan’s mustache lifted with his lips in another satisfied smile as he clasped his hands in front of him with a low, “Perfect.” 

Jane returned the smile and reached to leave a lingering touch on the man’s shoulder before stepping away from him completely. Asking the table then if there were any remaining questions, Jane watched as most of them shook their heads in response with a few others still jotting down notes. She waited for those few individuals and when the silence drug out, she thanked everyone with honey laced in her voice before taking her seat on Fontaine’s left. 

There was a brief flash in his stormy-gray eyes as she had rounded the space behind him, not sparing him a second glance even after sitting down. She felt powerful, commanding the two men like they were puppets on strings, luring their gazes where she wanted them with her voice alone; and it was intoxicating. 

Poking the bear a little harder though, she completely ignored Fontaine’s gaze and rather stoic expression fixed on her, a smirk settling on her lips with her attention turning to Ryan now as he stood. Trying to give the man her most intrigued leer, she sat forward a bit in her seat with her chest between her arms as she propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on the back of her hand. 

She was playing an incredibly dangerous game with the tycoon, and yet also decided at the same moment that it was also incredibly fun. Disregarding him the best she could, from the corner of her eye she couldn’t help but chuckle internally at how his leg still bounced, fists clenching and unclenching and his posture uncomfortably straight. She’d most likely suffer any sort of consequences after this meeting, but for now, she was perfectly content to continue playing her hand. 

Ryan then went on to discuss his side of the deal, freeing up a currently unused system that wasn’t already funneling magma straight from the ground. As long as the Futuristics agreed to take responsibility for creating and supplying the source, the Industries would uphold their deal with handling the energy distribution and marketing - of course with Jane and the Futursitics’ names included. It sounded like a deal already decided upon, this little meeting being used as an official statement of sorts for the press as Fontaine agreed to the terms. 

A few papers were signed soon after with the Tribune’s cameramen flooding the scene with flashing lights as the two men stood shaking hands and posing with the signed paperwork. It was all theatrics, a little ridiculous at how grand the spectacle appeared for the press’ sake. And yet, an immense sense of pride swarmed her chest. Seeing this project, this experiment, come to fruition and be able to come up with this amazing feat ensuring a next step for Rapture. It was a dream come true. And now she was watching Fontaine and Ryan come together on a tremendous project and collaborate for once. 

That was certainly a feat in itself. 

Once everything was finalized, the conference room was in a flurry again as reporters swarmed Jane the minute she stood from her seat, however, this time she was better prepared. If she could command Ryan, she could deal with a few annoying journalists and cameramen. Then, after posing for a few photos and trying to give as much one-on-one attention as she could to each, they all seemed content to eventually walk away with all the necessary notes needed - but it left her almost completely exhausted. 

After the crowd dispersed, she saw Fontaine already busy talking with someone from his marketing team, and she saw the opportunity to instead talk with Ryan on any outstanding questions for this project. The man was on the other side of the room towards the large bay windows overlooking a majority of the city, and she took her time with each step, hips swaying and luring his attention once again as he sipped on a glass of water from the table.  

“That was quite the presentation, Miss Hartley,” Ryan commented as she approached him. 

“Please, Jane is perfectly fine, Mr. Ryan.” She gave him a sickly sweet smile and took the empty spot in front of him with her glass chilling her hand. 

He lifted his glass towards her, “Of course, Miss Jane.” Their classes met with a clink, and Ryan’s attention shifted to look outside the window. 

“You know, I was hesitant when I first read about your project in the Tribune. Of course, at the time, the article didn’t do your work justice when talking about the intricate details. But, you’ve managed to convince me well.” He turned to her with a sparkle in his muddy hazel eyes, “It’ll certainly be an incredible step for Rapture. I only hope it aids in the city’s convenience and leaves less of a footprint. Magma is an abundant resource, but what you’re proposing is a seemingly infinite aid, which would be idiotic to turn down.” 

Stroke my ego a bit more, why don’t you? 

Jane couldn’t help the soft chuckle, a dusting of pink felt stretching from her cheeks to her nose at the compliment. She hadn’t even been drinking either, knowing a bar situated towards the entrance of the conference room, but opting to stick with water throughout her presentation at least. She will most definitely be downing an entire bottle of wine this evening. 

“My ideas and projects can only go so far on their own, Mr. Ryan. Without the Industries, my findings would still be cooped up in my lab with nothing but theories supporting them.” 

Ryan gave her a seemingly rare smile, one that she’d seen on Fontaine a few times that would notify her of a successful business transaction - or something that ended up going his way. It was no different for Ryan. 

“Well then, let’s hope it’s only the first of many great ideas and the start of a wonderful partnership.” 

And she could only agree. 

They talked a bit after about Jane’s background on the surface, her schooling, and so on. Light conversations that allowed brief surface-level answers with a few sips of water between and paused moments where each took a second to look at the crowd milling around the conference room. Jane, however, searched for Frank’s gaze each time she looked away from Ryan. 

She could tell he was trying to distract himself by talking to a few of his employees, but she did manage to snag his attention now and then. The heat from his stare could be felt across the entire room, clawing at her chest as a thick sludge of tension bubbled between them as the afternoon went on. And just when she started to feel the few hours of sleep she had gotten that morning, Jane politely excused herself from Ryan, shaking his hand one last time and thanking him for his time today. 

Slipping away, she made her move towards Fontaine who stood near the bar after participating in another refill. She made a show of swaying her hips again, placing one foot in front of the other carefully as her heels clicked beneath her. He wasn’t subtle either with the slow drag of his eyes from her pencil skirt to her piercing gaze. The expression to sit along his features was stone cold, however, sending a chill down her arms. 

“I’m going to head back down to the labs.” Her voice rose a bit with the group standing next to him thrown into a fit of laughter. “Need to check on the kelp samples.” 

They were done, for the most part, most still hanging around in the conference room to kill time at this point. There was little guilt as she started pacing past him after receiving a slight head nod until an arm shot out to grab along the front of her waist. His grip was tight when he pulled her close, her shoes scuffing a bit against the tile as he brought her to his side. His mouth was hot against her ear, the words dripping from his lips like a poison. 

“Runnin’ away so soon? Had your fill with Ryan or am I gonna see you back up here sittin’ pretty on his lap or somethin’?” 

Goosebumps littered her arms, a visible shiver jerking her shoulders at the bite to his words, all canines, and she shook her head. 

“No, I’m probably going to be down there until we leave.” She swallowed the lump lodged in her throat, remembering the look he gave her after sitting down from her presentation. “Unless…you’d want me to come back up -” Her gaze narrowed, watching him from under her lashes. “I wouldn’t mind teasing you a bit more.” 

His hand slipped from her waist, fingers trailing along the fabric of her blouse tucked neatly into her pencil skirt. The sweet scent of the whiskey on his lips tickled her nose, the heat that had been resting in her abdomen pooling between her legs again at the memory of Saturday night. The taste, the smell of the honied cedar on his tongue that stained every word in sin. And she did everything in her power to walk away, to leave the conference room with a glance over her shoulder towards him to find that steel gaze hooked onto her like a fishing line. 

She only hoped he’d take the bait and follow.

~

The coolness of her lab was a godsend, not realizing how hot and stuffy it was getting up in the conference room until she was finally able to get away from it all. Taking a few deep breaths, all in all, she felt relatively proud of herself for her presentation and the final approval for things to move on. It was exciting to think that such simple findings from her first few days at the Futuristics could lead to a monumental project like this that the city could benefit from. All those years of schooling, getting her degrees, fighting labs on the surface - refusing to hire her because she was a woman, moving to Rapture, and feeling like she was starting again at square one; it was incredibly fulfilling. 

Her mother would be so proud. 

Jane had been pacing around her lab as her nerves still vibrated, thinking about the meeting and if she had covered all she needed to. While she was up and pacing, she remembered what she had told Frank as an excuse to get away from the people and reporters and moved to check on the kelp samples. 

The most fascinating thing to her was watching how these different plant samples reacted to the ADAM, finding that seaweed reacted the most with new full-grown samples found in the garden each week. Kelp took about two weeks, growing much slower but still maturing. It was the second best she had next to the seaweed just in case something were to happen with their mature sample quantity. But, she still had full confidence in the seaweed. They already had a few dozen containers of seaweed all derived from one damaged cell healed and duplicated by the ADAM. 

Although, because she was wearing a nicer outfit and had her lab coat in the wash at the complex, Jane avoided checking any samples currently in their ADAM “bath”. The stain still on the floor at her feet confirmed that any ADAM certainly wouldn’t come out of her clothes so easily either. 

About a half hour later, she was ready to head back up to the conference room, thinking that maybe Frank did expect her to come back up at some point. But, as she opened the door to her lab, her heart nearly lept up into her throat to see him standing on the other side with a hand raised like he was going to knock. Her whole body jumped back, a hand on her chest as she briefly scowled at him. 

“Oh my god, Frank -” Jane heaved a breath to calm her racing heart. “Don’t scare me like that.” 

He stood like a pillar in the doorway, barely a shift in his expression as she cleared her throat. 

“I was just about to, um, come back up and maybe see if the meeting was over, or if the bathysphere was here?” 

Just as she was about to take a step towards him and out the doorway, thinking he was there for just that, his hand shot out again to grab at her arm. He yanked her back into her lab and slammed the door behind him. Her heart started hammering again for a whole different reason as she stumbled back, the spot on her arm stinging a bit from where he grabbed her, and she caught herself on a table’s edge behind her. She heard the telltale lock engage on the door and a pitched beep-beep indicating it was fully locked and they were completely alone. 

“You’re a little brat, aren’tcha?” His voice echoed suddenly, loud and harsh bouncing off the walls of the lab as he paced towards her. “Didn’t think I’d have my hands full durin’ this meetin’, but you just can’t seem to behave, huh?” 

It was like a predator cornering its prey as he backed her into the table, slapping both palms onto the metal surface and caging her between them. 

His words and actions shook her for a second, if he was actually this flustered up in the conference room, he hid it well enough. It took every ounce of confidence she had left to hum at his comment, tilting her chin up with her breath soft against his lips. 

“You didn’t like my little show? Ryan seemed to enjoy it.” 

The line he set his mouth in curved a bit, the smile never reaching his eyes with his stare remaining cold and calculated. Jane had lifted her hand as well, finding and pulling his tie from his vest to wrap the red fabric between her fingers. He always wore red. It was a commanding and powerful color, suiting the tycoon, but she especially liked how it looked twisted around her pale hands, knuckles turning pink as she’d grip and tug with his whole body to follow. 

Doing just that, she carefully pulled at his tie, encouraging him to follow and he leaned further down until their mouths were mere inches apart. 

His words were warm against her lips. “I would have liked it, if it had been just for me.” 

“Just for you, isn’t that a little selfish, Fontaine?” 

The low hum quaking from his chest lit a fire in her pelvis, the clench to his jaw would have scared her in any other situation if the thrill of pissing him off didn’t already turn her on a bit. Knowing very well now he wouldn’t hurt or get angry with her. The tightness of his pants when she glanced down was also telling, he didn’t mind her pushing one bit. 

Instead of responding, the next tug to his tie brought his mouth to hers in a bruising kiss, the intensity of it causing a moan to bubble from her chest and he pulled away after a few seconds, panting. 

“When is gonna get through that you’re mine, alright?” He still had her up against the table, the sharp edge of it digging into her lower back. “That when you flaunt yourself ‘round that bastard, I’m gonna do somethin’ ‘bout it.” 

“Then do something about it.” She countered, watching his attention dip down to where she had the extra button open on her blouse, his gaze certainly lingering longer than Ryan’s did with a lazy smile to twist his features. 

It was his turn to lift his hand, fingers brushing the collar of her blouse before dropping to undo each button one by one. He had to tug at the article as well until it slipped from where she had it tucked into her skirt, opening the blouse entirely to reveal the laced black bra underneath. Tilting her chin back up to him, she pursed her lips expecting a kiss, only feeling the ghosting of his breath along her skin and he chuckled. 

“Lookatchu,” His voice was hushed, low and rumbling. “Surprised me that night, didn’t think you had all that in ya.” 

The whine tumbled from her as she stood on her toes a bit, desperate to close the space between them. 

“And what about today? During the meeting?” 

A scoff puffed against her chin, his voice dipping low. “What, lookin’ for some sort of praise or somethin’?” Yes, exactly that. “If I knew any better, it seems like you might actually want me t’be a little rough with you.” His hands shifted to grab at her ass, pulling her away a bit from the table’s edge. “After actin’ like you were.” 

His words alone encouraged a flush along her cheeks, her palms releasing his tie as he started moving her a bit. 

The whisper tickled along the shell of her ear. “Down. On your knees.”

A warmth in her chest bloomed, spreading out to each limb with her nerves starting to vibrate again as she lowered slowly onto the tiled floor at his feet. Coming face to face with the bulge in his pants that she had only glanced at earlier, her palms lifted to rest along the front of his thighs with her gaze trailing back up towards him. 

Frank’s hands were gentle in her hair, fingers weaving through the auburn strands with his palm cradling the side of her head for a second. At some point, his expression softened a bit, seeing the shift in his eyes first as his head tilted to the side a bit. She parted her lips as if to say something, her eyes wide and curious, and the shadow suddenly loomed over his features again. 

The fingers in her hair gripped hard, tugging at her roots with a soft whine tumbling from her. “Don’t look at me like that, Baby Jane.” He cooed almost mockingly. “Especially, when you’re ‘bout to suck my dick. Where’s all that confidence you had earlier, huh?” 

Her face burned, her stomach twisting into tight knots at his words and her attention lowered back down the button of his dress pants. Jane swallowed the welt lodged in her throat as trembling fingers struggled to undo the button and zipper. However, there was a single thought nagging at her that this certainly wasn’t the first time doing this with the tycoon. Maybe it was the first time in a decade or so, but the action felt oddly familiar and she stuffed the memory to the back of her mind. 

The firm hand in her hair never relented as she tugged the waistline of his briefs down, his cock - half hard already - a hot and heavyweight in her palm. She circled her fingers at the base, stroking up slowly and watching a bead of precum gather at his head. The last time she had seen him, it was in the shadowed darkness of the bedroom, feeling more than seeing how thick he was when he split her open. Now, in the well-lit brightness of her lab, her mouth started to water a bit as the tips of her fingers almost barely touched when she stroked him again. 

A liquid heat pooled in her pelvis and his hand tugged her forward. “Come on, Doll.” Her toes curled in her heels at the gravel tone riddling his voice. “You’ve been wantin’ this, right? The quicker you start now, the quicker I can fuck you into the window back at the complex.” 

The shiver at his words ricocheted up her spine, shaking her shoulders at the suggestion; and it was encouraging enough to look him in the eyes before wrapping her lips around the head of his cock and sinking down. His gasp was sinful, fingers tightening and following her movement as she pulled back with lips kissing his head before sinking back down again, a little further this time. The amount of time between when she last blew someone started catching up to her though, and her jaw almost started aching immediately. 

She wanted to hear that gasp again, though. Wanted to hear him groan and beg for her to keep going, and she pushed through the next time her mouth sunk. Pausing for a second, she worked and coughed through the gag that clenched her throat as he sunk further. Stroking the base of him a bit, his other hand flew to grip the opposite side of her head, his fingers digging painfully into her scalp. Taking another long and steady breath through her nose, Jane pulled back again and relaxed, sinking back down until her nose finally bumped his pelvis and she hummed in triumph.  

“Fuck -” She relished in the waver of his tone, drawing out the word as she pulled back again and flicked her tongue along the underside of his head. His cock pulsed with her movement, and she wiped at a bit of saliva to gather along the corner of her lips. 

There was nothing like the lazy smile sitting on his lips then, pupils blown and narrowed down towards her, their eyes meeting. 

“Think you can go again, brat?” 

Jane quirked her brow, daring and a little defiant at the new nickname and she pursed her lips in a loose pout. One of his hands slid from her hair with his fingers squishing her lips and cheeks while turning her head from side to side. She still had a firm grip around the base of his cock with her other hand resting on his thigh. And when she gave him another healthy stroke, her fingers dug into his leg once feeling the flex of muscle underneath. 

“Such a pretty mouth,” Frank whispered with her lips still pursed between his fingers. “Would be a shame if you put it to waste, yeah?” A smirk suddenly lifted his features at the thought. “And let’s see you talk to Ryan again after knowin’ you had my cock between those lips.” 

Her body practically melted into the floor as he removed his hand from her face, returning to her hair and circling to put a bit of pressure on the back of her head. Jane took that as a sign to keep going and she turned her attention back to his cock, leaning forward again to repeat her previous motions. 

Wetting her tongue a bit, she licked a long stripe along a vein under his shaft towards her hand and back up to his head, lips circling and sucking before taking him again. It was slightly harder this time, his cock fully hard and searing against her palm as she struggled to reach his pelvis. Only stopping about halfway to allow her throat to relax and cheeks to hallow, she pushed again with a cough before the gag could stop her. 

Another groan bubbled from him above her, his hand gathering some of her hair into a short, loose ponytail and gripping. She pulled back, tongue teasing the sensitive skin just under the head, and sunk back down, going further than before as a rush of saliva moved to pool and escape from the corners of her mouth and she pulled back with a gasp, the thin line of saliva and precum between her lips snapping with her motion. 

“Again.” He demanded, grip pushing on her head. 

The squeak was equally as pathetic as her lips touched the head of his cock, his hand pressing her down until he bumped the back of her throat and she choked. The pressure let up on her head, but she stayed put. Her eyes crossed suddenly with his form towering above her going fuzzy as she allowed her throat to relax again. Her jaw ached pleasantly, the stretch of her lips painful, but addicting enough to encourage a hum to quiver in her throat and her eyes rolled back. 

“There we go.” The purr in his voice sent a hot wave down her spine and straight to her clit, her core clenching hard around nothing with her underwear near soaking by now. “See? Just need a firm hand, an’ a good cock between those lips.” 

Her eyes clenched shut as she choked again, desperate for air now with tears starting to well, falling and streaming down the sides of her face. He still must have gotten the hint and gave one quick sharp thrust before pulling her hair and head back. The bump to the back of her throat caused another swell of saliva to come dripping as he pulled her off completely. A coughing fit had her hunched over, temples throbbing with brown spots fuzzing the corners of her vision for a few seconds. 

She felt like a mess, wiping her mouth along the back of her hand to see a bit of lipstick come away and stain her skin there. His fingers were still in her hair, massaging her scalp where he might have tugged too hard, and felt wonderful as she leaned into it. 

The thrum humming throughout her body and core, however, told her she wasn’t done with him yet.  She was able to pull a few noises, but desperately wanted him to be an equally trembling and moaning mess above her. Without a second of hesitation, Jane reached for him again, glancing up with mischief burning a hole through him and taking every tortuous inch past her lips. 

Setting a steady rhythm, she started bobbing her head to some unheard beat, tongue stretched and running with the vein under his cock, thick and pulsing with blood. The hand she had on his thigh reached up to claw at his vest, hearing a groan slip past his lips but halted before it could echo within the space around them. 

And that just won’t do. 

However, just as she was about to double down, hollowing her cheeks, a sudden knock on her lab’s door sent a chill down her body. She noticed Frank freeze above her as well, his hands a solid hold on her hair and Jane paused her movement. 

“Mr. Fontaine? Are you in there?” A male’s voice, one she didn’t recognize. 

“I told you he’s not in there.” A second voice followed, sounding exasperated, but one she recognized from the meeting and Futuristics’ marketing department. 

The first voice huffed. “He has to be, I saw him walk down to the labs.” 

Jane lifted her gaze but Frank had his attention on the door, and she inhaled deeply before sinking down onto his cock again. His grip on her hair jerked, and she looked up again to see a dangerous mixture of panic and arousal lining his features. 

“It’s completely empty down here.” The second voice grumbled, the person leaning against the wall next to Jane’s lab door. “He’s not gonna be down here, he probably left already.” 

“I didn’t see him leave.” 

The door might have been locked, there was no way either man could enter without a specified key to her lab. But, the walls and door to her lab were frosted, not completely transparent, but enough where she could usually see Brigid moving around in her lab if she’d get there before her. Jane was honestly a little surprised either man didn’t recognize their silhouettes through the opaque glass. If they remained still, however, it’s possible the two men wouldn’t notice. 

Jane had Frank’s gaze locked with her own for a second before she winked. Steading herself back on his thighs, she picked up her movement again, very slow and careful. Frank didn’t stop her, though, his attention fixed on her with the occasional glance over his shoulder to the door as the men bickered amongst each other on whether their boss was down here or not. Both were still dangerously close to the door though, the second man pacing a bit with the first calling out now and then as if he could see their silhouettes, but wasn’t sure if it was them or pieces of furniture. 

Their presence still didn't deter her from trying to pull any sort of sinful noise from the man above her. And as she was able to press her nose to his pelvis again, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked. Frank immediately lifted his hand from her hair, shoving his face into the crook of his elbow, muffling the moan to erupt from his chest, the hand in her hair holding her in place.

The two men outside her lab paused, she saw their heads move around from the corner of her eye as if they heard something but dismissed it. 

“I told you, he’s not down here. He probably left already with Jane. I mean, did you see what she was wearin’ today? God, I’d be scramblin’ home with her too if I were Fontaine.” 

The first man scoffed. “Yeah, I guess I’ll just have to find him tomorrow.” 

Their footsteps started receding, and as soon as she no longer saw them outside her lab’s door, she withdrew completely with an innocent smile to follow. A bit of precum and saliva sat along her lips as she watched Frank heave a couple of breaths; her hand lifting with fingertips gathering the mixture and dipping past her lips. 

The growl was obvious as he bent to drag her back up to her feet, shoving her against the table’s edge again with his mouth capturing hers in a desperate kiss. His cock was hot and wet against the skin of her stomach, her blouse shrugging off her shoulders and gathering around her biceps as he moved her. They pulled away gasping for air and Frank tilted his head with his nose brushing her own. 

“Get yourself together, we’re not done yet.” 

~*~

If there was one thing Jane could always depend on, it was that Frank was a man of his word. 

She could barely keep her eyes open to watch her breath fog the glass she was pressed against, her palms leaving marks that trailed down from various positions she had them in. The surface was terrible to try and keep any sort of traction against, but the grip under her knee that had her leg hoisted up was firm. The unrelenting pistoning of his hips into her ass kept her steady against the window, choking on each high-pitched whine that tore itself from her throat. 

He had been whispering utter filth the moment they were in the solitude of the bedroom, stripping her in seconds before removing everything from himself except for his pants. She had teased him relentlessly about how impatient he was, quickly toeing over to hide behind the frosted wall that separated the entrance to the bedroom and the rest of the space. Throwing his undershirt aside, he hadn’t even unclipped the suspenders from his pants before chasing after her and pinning her against the large window overlooking the rest of the city. 

A hand had clamped over her mouth when a guttural moan slipped past her lips as he positioned and entered her, immediately setting a brutal pace. He fucked her with what felt like every ounce of frustration he had at seeing her interact with Ryan during the meeting. And she honestly wouldn’t have it any other way with the rapid sawing of his cock inside her dripping heat sending her mind to the moon with her body pinned here beneath the waves. 

“Think Ryan can fuck you as good as me?” God, she hoped not. “Gonna think twice before you shove your tits in his face again?” 

With how much he was jostling her, she tried to nod in response, one hand dropping from the window to lay over his hand that gripped her hip. Tangling her fingers with his own, she hoped it was enough to let him know she was “sorry”. But like hell, she’d be willing to do it again for him to fuck her this good. 

The change in angle after moving her hand had him pushing her further into the window with her cheek and breasts shoving against the chilled glass. She noticed his breath stutter and his hips start to lose their controlled rhythm at the same time she arched her back to meet each thrust. 

There was no way in hell she was going to last any longer either with the way his cock pummeled the nerve-rich wall behind her clit. And within moments, she had her head turned with breath puffing against his neck when he pulled her from the window. He had her one leg still drawn up as she started chanting against his skin that she was going to cum until she finally lurched in his grasp. He went with her, both falling forward and hands steadying themselves when he started cumming as well. 

Their combined breaths had almost completely fogged the glass, neither moving for a second until Frank pulled her back to finally collapse on the ground. He had pulled her into his lap with his back leaning against the glass, their chests heaving and skin red from the chilled air coming from the frigid ocean water on the other side of the window. 

His lips were soft against her temple then, a complete turn from the Frank who had tugged her into the bedroom without as much as a hello to poor Reggie in the dining room with Jack. 

“You did well today.” He whispered, hands lifting to fold around her own and intertwine with her fingers resting along her thighs. A gentle kiss along her cheek followed, and she turned her head to accept a proper kiss. “Proud of you.” And her heart swelled. 

She loved this man. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

She found herself sitting at the dining table again, sketching more of the city outside the grand window along with a few sea stars still sticking to the corner. In her free time, recently, she found herself reading more, playing or reading to Jack, or sketching; and the routine was almost starting to become exhausting - almost. Jane honestly wanted to get out and explore the city more, wanted to take Jack out to see the toy section of Fontaine’s Department Store, or go out to brunch with Ann and James. 

But, Frank’s been decreasing Jack’s time outside the complex after someone at the Farmer’s Market asked about him the other day. And she found Ann and James to be rather distant lately, especially once the article in the Tribune was published after the big meeting a few days ago with Ryan; the photo with her between the two men plastered on the front page. While she was more than proud of how the meeting turned out, even impressed with the article that was written, she knew it would only create a wedge between her and her friends. She hadn’t gone to dinner with them in a while either, so busy with this project recently. 

The loneliness was starting to become more evident, and a deep sigh deflated her chest. 

Jack was upstairs taking his afternoon nap after doing another round of homework. They had done math this time, one of Jack’s least favorite subjects; but he still worked hard with each problem she gave him. She could eventually understand how he always seemed to be so put out after his ADAM medication and math lessons, it was all too much for the boy after a while. 

Then, after doing a bit of sweeping, laundry, and scrubbing down the kitchen, she was left trying to fill the time until dinner and nothing was satisfying her at the moment. 

She wondered when Fontaine was getting home. He had left again that morning to take care of more issues occurring at the Fisheries. This time, however, he left her with more than a few kisses along the slop of her neck as she was cleaning up from breakfast. 

There was a sudden spark of curiosity to wedge itself to the forefront of her mind, wondering if Fontaine had anything in his library either relating to marine life or architecture. That would surely help with her current sketches and give her something to do for a bit. She technically wasn't allowed in his office unless he was there and she needed him for something but, the rush of it would provide some excitement to her otherwise uneventful afternoon.

Scooting from her chair, she walked to the front of the complex and stilled for a second in case he did return home and she had just missed him. Nothing, silence. Save for the groaning of the ocean surrounding them, she smiled to herself and tiptoed up the stairs to his office. Before she turned left, however, she stopped to check on Jack, peering through the slightly cracked door to see him still fast asleep. 

Perfect.

Backing away, she toed over across the top stairwell to the bedroom. Stepping in for the first time without him there, she noticed how the office was incredibly organized and clean, with nothing standing out right away. Though, she knew there was a gun in the top right drawer of his desk, and another hidden in a filing cabinet on the opposite wall of the bookshelf. However, she was more interested in the bookshelf, smiling and stepping over toward the wall of books. She didn't take Fontaine to be any sort of reader, but appreciated his collection at least, even if it was just for a sort of show.

He also seemed to have almost every genre she could think of. Skimming each shelf, she tapped the tips of her fingers among a few she noted to go back and take a look at. Until she reached a book that immediately grabbed her interest, a wide smile pulling at her lips as she pulled the book from its spot. Marine Biology, the two words screaming out to her in familiarity; herself curious as to whether it was a book on the basics or something more specified.

She opened it and started reading, stepping back to lean against the edge of the desk as she already started to feel herself become lost in the words and diagrams on the pages. That was until she turned the pages towards the book's center, noticing a weird gap, and figured there maybe was a fold-out diagram or something. Instead, she saw some smaller photos that had obviously been placed in there, photos, some article cutouts, and a letter.

Her heart thumped in her chest with brows knitting, holding the book open a tad wider to sort through all the items shoved between the pages. 

The photos were of a pier and a boardwalk, and after looking at them for a few solid seconds, she realized she knew the boardwalk. In the background of the photo were a few buildings, one standing out the most as it looked oddly similar to the bar she used to work at.

The next photo behind it was a close-up of those buildings along the boardwalk, and the one that had already looked familiar was confirmed to be the same bar, its sign hanging out front in the same scripted letters - The Siren. Turning the photo between trembling fingers, she almost didn’t notice the scribbled initials in what looked like two different handwritings on the back in the bottom right corner, J.C. & F.H . ‘42. 

Jane didn’t even realize her breathing falling short then, feeling as if her chest was constricting and she pushed through the small pile. Next were the newspaper articles, most about a few missing person cases of important people just up and vanishing; all evidence pointing to being kidnapped and taken out on a ship or boat going somewhere. 

Then, there was the letter, the last item in the pile. It was written to a man named Reggie, and as she skimmed through it, the wording appeared very vague and generalized - like the writer didn’t want anyone but the recipient to understand what they were conveying. 

While the letter already seemed curious, it was the name signed at the bottom that made her almost drop the book entirely. 

Hartley, Frank Hartley. 

Her heart sunk to her stomach. 

It suddenly felt like she was drowning. The memories flooded back and crashed into her like a tidal wave, the thought of startling blue eyes pulling her deeper and deeper underwater. They were Frank’s, her Frank’s, truly - but she didn’t know if she should be grateful, relieved, or…wary. Because something had been telling her, all along, that it was him. Even in those first moments when she saw Fontaine in person, the initial thought that it was him had fled as quickly as it entered her mind. But he had looked so different, so cold and commanding, nothing like her Frank. 

She just couldn’t believe it. 

Until those memories from the bar swamped her thoughts, remembering Frank differently each time he’d come back. He had naturally raven black hair, so soft, easy to run her fingers through. Sometimes, though, he’d come back with hints of blond or brown in his hair, as if he had dyed it at some point. Remembering when he’d leave for his “business trips”, he’d be gone for months on end, but leaving each time with the promise of coming back for her.  

It all made sense now. 

Jane didn't acknowledge how long she'd been in that office. Certainly not hearing the front door open and close, definitely not hearing the office door open and close.

"What are you doin' in here?"

She turned then, breath catching with her face immediately heating with a realization that she wasn't welcomed in this space. And yet, her findings were still causing her brows to knit, shock still sitting on her chest and weighing down all other concerns.

A shock that very quickly melted to anger, however, sudden heat boiling like lava through her veins. 

She wasn’t afraid of this man. Wasn’t afraid of Fontaine. 

“You son of a bitch!”

Fontaine looked at her with an incredulous expression etched into his features, eyes darting down to the book open in her hands to the page that housed all his secrets. She could see the rage immediately furrow his brow. 

"What the fuck were you doin'?!" He stepped forward to grab for the book, expression turning furious as well with his gaze sharpened on her. "I told you not to come in here!"

Jane stepped back with the book just before he could grab it, slamming it shut and throwing it onto his desk with a deafening smack. Anger was running white hot along her skin, not wanting to raise her voice too much for Jack’s sake, but couldn’t help the overwhelming confusion fogging her better judgment. 

“No, I knew it, I knew you were Frank Hartley! You fucking lied to me!” 

He reached around for the book then, "Yeah? I lied to a lot of people. You ain’t special.” He stormed around his desk to put it in the top right drawer, right next to the pistol that sat there as well. 

Jane crossed her arms to keep herself from physically lashing out, feeling as if the room was filling with a briny sludge suffocating them both, “But you knew who I was, you had to! Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

He slammed the drawer shut, “And you didn’t know who I was!” the desk and contents sitting on top rattled angrily with the force of it. “Why the hell would I risk everythin’ for a woman I wasn’t even sure was you!?” 

It took everything to keep the tears of frustration back as she stomped up to him, leveling her heated gaze with his own. “You still left, still lied. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried myself to sleep to the possibility that you were gone. Dead.” 

“You should have found another sap to cry ‘bout then.” He scoffed, dismissive, a noise that chilled her to her core. “Don’t get mad at me for thinkin’ anythin’ would have happened between us.” 

There was no hesitation as her hands flew up from her sides, shoving him back against the side of the desk as she stepped up into his space with the front of his shirt in her fist. Biting her tongue, her vision of him started to fog with a welling of tears bombarding her lower lid. 

She wanted to yell, wanted to curse him to hell and back for having the audacity to talk to her like there was nothing up on the surface between them; or even nothing between her and Fontaine down here in Rapture. But the lump in her throat swallowed her tongue, and she couldn’t find the words to scold him to hell and back. 

The few seconds of silence prompted a smirk to slowly lift the corner of his lip. His hand reached from where he rested it on the desk to grab for the wrist taking his shirt hostage. 

Just as he was about to pry her fingers from the fabric, she did it herself, shoving his shoulder before stepping back. “No, you cared. I cared! You cannot tell me all of that meant nothing to you. You cannot tell me that when you were the one who kept coming back” 

She quickly wiped at the tears as they fell, feeling a conflicting number of emotions but the anger was still potent enough to lace every word with poison. “I dare you to tell me you still didn’t care as you’d walk into that bar. Even after months of being away.”  

“Is that what you want me to say?” She could both hear and feel the edge of a growl in his voice as he stood from the side of the desk, taking a few steps towards her, challenging her. “Tell you, yeah of course I cared, an’ I didn’t tell you where the hell I was goin’ ‘cause even I didn’t know what the fuck I was gettin’ myself into down here?” 

He kept walking towards her, a loud thump reverberating between them as she collided with the edges of the bookshelf, a grunt slipping from her lips. 

“You could have told me something. Instead of leaving me to believe the absolute worst had happened to you.” She bit through the pain in her shoulder blade from the wood of the shelf.

The sudden crack of his palm against the shelf next to her head made her flinch, doing everything she could to stand as straight and tall. Feeling like a caged animal, she found her pride to be more stubborn with her chin tilting up to greet the growing fire in those smokey-gray eyes. 

“And then what? You end up followin’ me down here?” He leaned forward, forcing her to crowd in on herself. “Risk life an’ limb? If you got hurt, gotch’ yourself in any sort of bind, gotch’ yourself killed? That’d be on me.” 

It was almost…sweet, for him to say something like that. But it still rubbed her the wrong way and her eyes narrowed up towards him.

“I’m not a child, Frank. I still came down here of my own volition, made that choice myself regardless of knowing where you were.” She smirked, hoping it appeared to him as sharp as it felt on her lips “Although, I also thought you were dead. It wouldn’t have mattered either way.” 

“Would it?” 

They held each other’s gaze, both too stubborn to look away first, to say anything next as it would only be a continuous cycle of one blaming the other. And even as he quirked a brow at her, expecting her to say anything else, she couldn’t quite distinguish the emotions rampaging. Relief to see him alive? Reassurance to know this man was who she suspected him to be? Complete outrage at how he didn’t tell her at any point? Especially since he even had his own suspicions about her, apparently. 

“You bastard.” She grumbled, voice raw and strained, “Fuck you.” 

And yet, instead of spitting another smart remark back, she braced herself when he leaned in again. And rather than feeling a hand on her throat or a palm on her cheek, the warmth of his lips capturing her own completely stole her breath. And for a split second, she debated on pulling away. Shoving him off her and storming out of the office with nothing but resentment boiling beneath her skin. Instead, his free hand not supporting him against the shelf grabbed for her waist to pull her closer and flush against his front. 

Jane lifted her hand to his shoulder with a whine, a fabled attempt to push him from her again. But, his grip was firm along her waist; deepening the kiss and stealing each gasp and dissolved groan. When they finally separated for air, the twisting in her chest clenched tighter, her stomach fluttering from the most intense confusion she ever had to sift through. 

“I hate you so much.” She panted. 

The scoff was warm and mocking against her cheek. “Aw, come on, Baby Jane - ” 

Her eyes widened at that, “Oh, no -” Both hands lifted to his chest, arms struggling to create more space between them as her face burned bright pink. “Don’t you dare call me that after all of this. After leaving and lying, you think you can waltz back into my life and start calling me that again?” 

Frank was stronger though, keeping a tight grip around her waist as she squirmed. 

“What, you gotta ‘nother man callin’ you that now? ” 

He had to be joking with her, his words more smug than anything. And yet, she couldn’t help but catch that hint of familiar jealously riddling the undertone of his comment. 

“And what if I did? You were dead to me.” 

The grip along her waist spun her around and away from the bookshelf, her mind whirling with the action until she felt she was being lifted to sit on the edge of his desk. 

“How long are we gonna go back an’ forward, huh?” The sting of his words settled along the shell of her ear. “I get it, you hate me. Can never forgive me for leavin’. And I can tell you again an’ again ‘bout how I didn’t tell you where I was goin’ to keep you safe.” His hands moved to the desk on the outside of her thighs, trapping her within his larger form. “But you’ll never believe me. ‘Cause the guy I am now ain’t the guy you knew on the surface. So, why the fuck would it matter?” 

“Frank -” His words were starting to make her skin crawl, that twisting returning to her stomach but quickly turning sour.

“Fontaine let you in, not ‘cause he’s nice, but ‘cause he needed a babysitter for his little failed lab experiment. Let you sleep in his bed to have all the access to a quick fuck. Hired you to one-up Ryan, an’ didn’t give a shit that it was a silly little dream of yours.” 

“Frank, stop!” 

She shrieked, throwing her palms up to cover her ears, and cowered in on herself. Her heart was pounding, the thump thump thump more apparent against her hands as she squeezed her eyes shut to try and block anything he’d continue to say to get her riled up. 

“Just please stop!” She wailed, feeling that surge of tears returning from earlier. 

If they went any further, if they prodded anymore, she feared he’d be digging too deep and spitting words that could shred, could scar. Was she still frustrated with him? Upset beyond words? Irritated by his lack of empathy towards actually seeing her and knowing it was her from the surface? Absolutely. 

At that point, she couldn’t stop the tears either, the first to finally fall silently onto the fabric of her dress along her lap. It was quiet for a while, she almost expected him to leave. To step away from the desk and leave her to cry a river, and sort through all the doubt and uncertainty herself of what just happened. 

A man she thought was dead - was alive, and standing right here in front of her. And she so badly just wanted to tell him that she missed him. 

Opening her eyes, another few tears rolled down her cheeks and painted her dress, the welt in her throat burning at how hard she tried to hold back the sobs. It surprised her, however, to still see his hands resting on either side of her thighs; watching in a blurry haze as he slowly lifted them to take her hands away from her ears. 

The whisper came just as soft as his touch. “Jane -” 

And yet, that simple touch felt like fire along her skin. Burning and charring her flesh as she yanked her hands from his grasp. Making one last attempt to push him away, he finally gave in and she jumped from the desk. Moving in a daze, her foggy vision did its best to guide her back to the door to his office and out into the bedroom. The air felt noticeably cooler, lifting the hair along her arms as she made a beeline to the living area. 

She wasn’t miles and miles from him, but it was enough space to at least clear her lungs of the flames and smoke of his words. To pull herself away from the sharp edges and sadistic comments meant to weaken and wound. 

After all this time, after ten years since he left, it was Frank but it still wasn’t her Frank. 

~

“Jane -” 

He lifted his hands carefully to take her wrists then, lowering them from around her ears so he could try to maybe explain himself again. His mind still reeling and racing at her finding out who he was, wanting to drop the Fontaine mask and at least try to just tell her why he did what he did on the surface. And yet, he was starting to feel the gnawing guilt of chewing her out, wanting her to just listen instead of coming to her own conclusions. 

That was always something he even struggled with on the surface, Jane had a knack for jumping to conclusions. But, back then he was just content to sit there and listen to her talk and explain her reasoning for things. It suited her scientific brain, and he loved picking apart all the things she was knowledgeable of. 

Instead of allowing him to even open his mouth, she recoiled immediately at his touch, hearing a slight hiss before she ripped her arms completely from his grasp. The push came next, another attempt to get away from him and he let her. Jane jumped from her place on the desk and rushed out of the office quicker than he could call her name again. The door to his office shuttered closed behind her, watching her hurry past the frosted wall at the back of his office, then out of the bedroom entirely. 

A second passed before he snarled, slamming his fist onto the oak of the desk, hand grabbing for the empty glass sitting in the one corner and chucking it at the wall. The glass immediately shattered, and what remains of the whiskey he probably had in it dripped from the frame of a painting he managed to snag the glass on. 

“Fuck .” He muttered, rubbing at his knuckles then, knowing for sure he’d see bruises from that.

He moved to lean back against the desk, massaging his hand with attention focused on the bookshelf in front of him. Should he follow her? Find her and just try to…console her? Everything was conflicting all of a sudden, Fontaine not wanting to give a shit and go on about his day. But, the man who she knew on the surface, the person he kept buried deep day in and out, he wanted to follow her - try to put Fontaine aside and just explain why he did what he did. 

If she would even let him at this point. 

Taking a few deep breaths, Frank shook his hand out with the lingering pain still numbing his fingers on his right hand. He should probably go check on Jack and make sure the kid didn’t hear them, or see Jane running off. Who knows if she would even still be in the complex or not, figuring he’s gotta try and do some damage control before things get worse between them. 

~

The chill of the glass was almost an oasis against the heat and throbbing of her temple. The white noise of the ocean beyond a lullaby cradling her, whispering to her that everything was going to be okay. She’s known the sea since she was a little girl, letting it rock her to sleep while out fishing with her dad. Those were always early mornings, and she’d promise her dad she’d stay awake the entire time. Only to find immense comfort in the lapping of the waves against the side of their boat, the consistent side-to-side, the same motion her mother would use while she’d sit on her lap in her rocking chair. Brushing her hair, reading her a story, or helping her to fall asleep. The ocean was an extent of that, an extent of her mother who was long gone. 

Jane felt a fresh set of tears well up and fall silently, but this sadness was for a completely different reason. 

She missed her mother dearly. 

The compact ball she already had her arms and legs circled into tightened further, hugging her knees closer to her chest along the sill of the window she sat on. She fixed her attention instead on the buildings just outside the window, a few schools of fish swimming past and a large Great White circling below in a space between the tunnel walkways. A groan was heard in the near distance, and yet as of late, she’s had a hard time distinguishing those noises between a whale call and a Big Daddy groan. Seeing more of those…monstrosities working out and around the city repairing things and escorting the Little Sisters. Both of which she’s tried to stay as far away, ever since that incident in the labs.

It felt like she was sitting by this window for hours, not caring if Frank decided to follow her out or not. Not caring if he still wanted to play his Fontaine card or try to act like the man she knew on the surface. She wouldn’t be convinced either way, having a hunch about what he did while out on his “business trips”, but never asking the question for fear of any sort of backlash. That, or he just wouldn’t tell her. Conmen rarely share their secrets. 

She honestly wouldn’t mind if he avoided her for the rest of the day. Save his breath, Jane didn’t want to hear any sort of an apology, if Fontaine could even muster one. 

There was shuffling around outside the living room, footsteps going up and down the stairs several times with more creaking down on the floor below. She couldn’t tell if he was looking for her, or getting Jack something to eat, figuring he’d be up from his nap by now. The exhaustion from crying and emotional outbursts had caused her to slip in and out of consciousness over the past hour. She also felt herself get a little chilled sitting next to the window like this, but too drained to even care to move and sit in a near armchair. 

The anger she felt burning through her veins earlier had cooled to deep sorrow, pinning her in place. She wanted a nap, curled up in numerous blankets, falling asleep to the sounds of the ocean. But, that meant she’d have to get up and potentially run into Frank again. And at least at the moment, he was the last person she wanted to see. 

Although, she might have spoken too soon. The door to the living area slid open to reveal no one other than Frank. It was just her luck that he didn’t say anything right away. Otherwise, if she had the energy, she’d sock him in the jaw at the first stupid comment to leave his mouth.

It was hard to read his expression though, rather blank and appearing just as tired as she felt. He glanced at her before moving to take a seat in one of the armchairs in front of her. The tension that followed him into the space then was still palpable, but not as suffocating as it had been in his office. Along with the silence, she could tell he was trying to gather his thoughts. She was too. 

Frank sat forward in the chair, rubbing a bit at his hand and she noticed the redness, the telltale signs of bruises to eventually blossom on the skin. She furrowed her brows at that.

“Jane -” He started again, voice just as low as it was back when he whispered her name in the office. “Can I explain myself? For what I did?” 

Jane shrugged, bringing her legs in closer again with a bitter chill shaking her body. Frank must have noticed the slight tint to her lips and goosebumps on her arms and he sat up in the chair a bit. She didn’t expect him to extend his hand then, whispering a “C’mere” to coax her closer and away from the window. There was a second of hesitation as she looked between his outstretched hand and those silver eyes. 

She stood on wobbly legs, knees bent for too long and she took his hand for support more than anything. His grasp was strong as he brought her closer to him, coaxing her to sit on his leg, and she obliged. 

“You know I would never hurt you, right?” 

The scoff was sudden, honestly not expecting it to slip from her mouth. “I have a hard time believing you.” 

She honestly had every reason not to, he thought. 

And yet, she still held the hand he had reached out to her with. Even lifting it so she could examine the ugly violet starting to discolor his knuckles. He figured this was as good a time as any. 

“I don’t blame you -” His voice dipped lower as if he wanted to keep all he was about to spill just between the two of them. “But…on the surface, when I heard ‘bout this opportunity, of Rapture - I knew if I had come back to say goodbye, I would have never left.” 

The gentleness in his voice reflected the man she knew before when Jane looked up and into his eyes, a clear ocean blue staring back. His Bronx accent softened as well and attention focused on her solely as he spoke.  

“And I had no idea what I was gettin’ myself into, didn’t know what Rapture was gonna be like. I couldn’t bring you with me, or tell you where I was goin’, if all of this was gonna be a death sentence.” 

She lowered her gaze back down to his hand again, turning his palm over as she inspected each callous and scar littering his skin. 

It’s not like she didn’t understand. Knowing now and experiencing Rapture for herself. It would have been foolish for him to suggest she come with him if he didn’t even know of the risk involving himself already. It was the fact that he had just cut all ties. Rapture closed its doors to the surface just months after she had arrived, knowing at that point that Fontaine had been down in Rapture for a good few years already. He could have written to her, let her know he was ok and alive. That he didn’t want her following him so he could keep her safe. She’d understand better then, would know not to worry or go looking for him in any way that could endanger her. 

And yet, Jane still came down to Rapture on her own, her own choice driving her to a better life and hopefully a chance to escape his disappearance. 

“Jane -” He whispered, trying to get her to look up at him to gauge how she was taking all of this. “Talk to me.” 

The sigh was long and she squeezed his hands, nails biting into his skin a little bit. “What the hell do you want me to say? That I understand what you did and why you did it? That for all ten of those years, you had been gone I wasn’t debating with myself if you had even cared about me? That the last week or so between us meant nothing?” 

Her voice started to tremble a bit as she spoke, starting to get increasingly upset with each rhetorical question aimed at him.

“You were the only person who cared, Frank. After my mother passed and my father remarried behind my back, I couldn’t put any trust in anyone.” He watched another tear streak down her face, her skin flushed and turning pink around her eyes and nose. “And when you came along, I - I thought I had finally come across someone who cared. Someone who could finally help me to see all that I had been missing from shutting people out of my life.” 

“Jane…”

“And then when you left? Look, Frank, I don’t care where you would have gone. I don’t care how long you would have been gone. All I wanted was just…something, something to let me know you were ok; once you got to wherever it was you were going.” Her breath shuttered then. “And, even if you didn’t know, if you didn’t know you were going to be ok. Just…hearing from you for that last time would have been enough.” 

Her face fell then, looking almost gaunt and beaten by whatever demon plagued her. 

“Your disappearance haunted me, Frank. The ghost of you everywhere I went. And then seeing Fontaine…I thought I had finally gone mad.” 

He didn’t know. Granted, he had assumed his leaving would have affected her in some way but just didn’t know the extent of it. Didn’t actually think about it. Frank was so focused on this mysterious city below the waves, the potential to put into motion the biggest con and fraud he was about to become. Didn’t think about leaving behind the only woman who ever cared about him. The only woman he’d rarely admit to anyone he cared about as well. 

Frank hated how his voice sounded then, so small and almost defeated by the past as he muttered a soft, “I’m sorry.” 

And yet, Jane sat up a little bit from where she’d been sitting on his leg, not quite believing what she was hearing.

“Then act like it.” She lifted his discolored hand, “Without injuring yourself.” 

With that, she stood from his leg and the chair, giving him one last glance before she fled for the second time towards the door he had come through. Leaving him in silence again with sorrow, frustration, anger, and guilt all hanging above him like a guillotine on a fraying rope. And yet, instead of going after her this time, he could only sit there with his gaze snagged on the window just to the left of him. Tired eyes following a shark passing by as if the city and buildings around it never existed. Completely ignoring everything but itself and its path forward. 

Just like him. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~ 

Sitting at his desk with palms blocking the view of the door, Frank groaned around the silence of his office. Somewhere the gurgling of bubbles from outside the window behind him was the only white noise between the annoying muddling of thoughts. He couldn’t concentrate on a single goddamn thing ever since the fight. And with his marketing team pestering him to review the ads that had come back from the Industries, he found locking himself in his office and not dealing with it the best alternative at the moment. 

Jane had been ignoring him since their fight a few days ago now. It was surprising she was still sleeping in the same bed, albeit positioning herself as far as she could on the opposite end of the mattress. Otherwise, she was getting up before him, taking the Express to the labs, and returning home before him as well with dinner sitting out for him at the dining table while she’d help Jack with his studies. And that was being generous, he figured she wouldn’t even be bothered making him dinner anymore. 

Last night, he had the fleeting thought of attempting to bring her into a loose embrace while they both were in bed. And yet, it was immediately discouraged, knowing both to be a tad different from what they remember of each other on the surface; but this was still the same Jane who would sock a sailor in the jaw if he was being too unruly in her bar. Frank didn’t need an elbow to the rib or a foot to his balls to finish out the day, although, it probably would have been appropriate.

Still, he woke up this morning to an empty bed again and she had yet to say a single word to him since that fight. He would have thought after a decade, she’d be relieved to see him and alive for that matter. And yet, even Frank couldn’t lie to himself, leaving Jane was one of the most difficult decisions he’s had to make, knowing if he ever saw her again, there’d be no chance for her forgiveness. 

If he ever saw her again. It was an intention he didn’t believe to haunt him later down the line. 

He just didn’t know what the fuck to do to resolve all of this. Of all the people to know who Fontaine was, Jane was certainly not the worst person. But, it was still someone, and still dangerous regardless. 

His attention finally lifted to the doors of his office once he heard them shutter open, Reggie’s larger form entering and walking down the extended entryway to his desk. Frank hoped the audible groan wasn’t as loud and obvious to Reggie as it was to him.  

“Good job on totally fuckin’ up your relationship, Frank.” 

Relationship? 

“How the hell did you hear ‘bout that?” He dragged his palms down his face, hands meeting the desk with a sharp slap. He doesn’t remember telling Reggie about any of this yet, wanting to do damage control before admitting to his right-hand man that Jane now knows his secret. 

He shrugged, “Had the pleasure of listenin’ to Jane on the way over here this mornin’. She’s just been unusually quiet an’ she told me everythin’.” The chuckle, Frank found almost mocking. “She seemed rather upset, actually.” 

Frank scoffed, “Would be a miracle if she wasn’t.” 

Reggie set the most recent edition of the Tribune down on the corner of Frank’s desk. “That how you got those nasty bruises on your hand?” 

Lifting his hand in question, the now ugly violet splotches from that day had developed fully, littering each knuckle on his right hand. Frank wondered how he managed to walk away without breaking anything with how horrible the bruises looked. 

He sighed, “She just walked out, Reg. I was tryin’ to explain myself, why I did what I did - “ His attention dropped to the paper for a second, no headlines jumping out as the Tribune had run through all the articles about Jane’s project for the time being. He continued rubbing at his knuckles though, the skin stinging just slightly. “But, I touched her, tried to get her to open up an’ listen, an’ she acts like I burned her then an’ there. Match to her arm or somethin’.” 

“Well,” Reggie moved to sit in a near armchair next to his desk, propping one leg on the other. “I can’t blame her for bein’ upset. Sounds like you said some horrible shit.” 

Frank noticed he had been bouncing his leg, standing up suddenly then with his hands shoving themselves into his pockets, his skin starting to itch. He wandered to the window behind his desk, letting out a long exhale as he thought back to all he had said during their fight. Most, if not all of it, he wanted to forget. He knew many of his words were soaked in poison derived from a deep frustration and guilt. His anger had taken control, and he ended up taking it out on her - unfortunately - not knowing how else to explain himself and the fact that he just cared. 

“I don’t know what to do, Reg.” He spoke to the other man’s reflection through the window. “Don’t know what to say to make any of it better, not that she’d believe any of it anyway.” 

Reggie chuckled from his seat. “See, that’s your first mistake. You know Jane, and you think just talkin’ an’ apologizin’ is gonna be the best an’ only thing that will make it all better?” 

“What?” Frank scoffed, his breath puffing against the cool glass. “I need to buy her expensive shit? Clothes, jewelry, bags, wine?” 

“Aw, come on, Frank -” Reggie shook his head. “You know Jane, right? What did you do for her on the surface? You know, after you’d be gone for a few months?” 

What did he do for her? He had to search his memories for a second, thinking back on all those nights spent at the bar, on the pier, and back at her apartment. He remembered then that last night before leaving her for Rapture. It was a rare occasion where she had worked a day shift, and Frank had taken her after to see the sunset along the shore. They had walked through the water, him chasing her, grabbing her, and swinging her around in the waves rolling in. Her laughter was a sound that rang in his ears for years after he left, echoing back from the hazy memories they once shared. 

Honestly, when he would be gone for longer than anticipated, or for longer than he’d initially tell her, he really never flat-out apologized; always having more physical ways of showing he was sorry. It was taking her to the pier, spending the night marking every inch of her skin, and staying up into the early hours of the morning worshipping every part of her under the veil of her bedsheets. 

He’d make endless promises of taking her along with him one of these days if she would let him. Promise to show her the world and every ocean on the planet. She’d call him ridiculous, but the spark in her eyes would always betray her. Frank would watch the gears turning in her head, considering the endless possibilities, opportunities, and adventures. Thinking back on it now, it was a sight he actually sort of missed. 

Instead of answering Reggie right away, though, Frank turned away from the window and paced back to his desk. Leaning along the edge, he buried his hands deep into his pockets with his thumb and forefinger fiddling with the lighter in his right pocket. 

Then, “She’s not gonna forgive me as easily.” 

Reggie shrugged. “Well, I mean, of course, she’s not. But you guys had somethin’, right? At least somethin’ I’ve never seen you have with any other women you’ve messed around with.” 

The smirk was sudden and Frank tilted his head to try and hide it. But, Reggie knew him well and chuckled at the action. 

“See, just - do what you did for her on the surface, as the Frank she knows.” Reggie stood from the chair then. “It’s a start, at least.” 

He paced over to give Frank a pat on his shoulder, “Consider this as well, yeah it’s been a decade, but - you both are also here in an underwater city, of all places. Seems too good to be a bit of a coincidence, eh?” 

Reggie gave a final nod before turning to walk back towards the entrance to the office, Frank watched him go until he got to the door, and Reggie turned back with a wave. 

“Try somethin’, alright? I’ll know if you do anythin’ or not!” 

Right, because apparently, Reggie was Jane’s new go-to ever since they both agreed she stop seeing Lamb; he was her new ear when it came to talking through all her frustration - regarding Frank he assumed. He watched Reggie leave, the door whining closed and his office was silent again. And yet, while he usually reveled in the silence, it was deafening this time. 

When the hell did the silence become so loud? Since when it was about someone else, and when did he forget to just look out for himself? 

All these questions and thoughts were bombarding him, and his feet automatically took him to the cabinet to the right of his desk. His hand fished for a bottle sitting half empty on the top shelf, just behind the fogged glass of the cabinet door. The bruises on his hand mocked him as he pulled back the bottle and unstopped it, finding the first glass lying around and pouring a generous amount. 

The first swig hit the back of his throat with an unyielding bitterness and he almost physically shuttered at the sudden intensity of it. He chanted internally to himself how he wished none of this was happening, that he never decided to take her in. Realizing that maybe most, if not all of this would have been avoided somehow if he had left her there in her lab, or found another apartment for her the first day she was at his complex. 

Then again, would she still find some way to worm herself back into his life? Would he have still let her? The answer to his questions startled him as that inner voice whispered the quietest yes, of course.

The next hard swallow almost had him coughing, choking on the deep amber liquid as he moved to sit at his desk again. As he side-eyed the Tribune, debating on letting the boring and meaningless headlines distract him from his current predicament, he noticed Reggie had also placed a small paper bag under one corner of the newspaper. Curious, he grabbed for that instead, setting aside the glass to open it. Inside was a small square box and a note that just read: 

‘Frank, found this while cleaning out my closet. Remembered you asked me to hang onto it, figured I’d give it back.’ 

His brows furrowed, opening the box with his mind racing on what the hell could be in there. He was glad he had set his glass down because inside sat a ring. 

A silver banded ring, small and delicate with a blue sapphire sitting in the center lined with two simple diamonds. On the inside of the band, he was able to make out the numbers 04.42. He had to wrack his brain for a second, chest going tight remembering that was the month and year he had met Jane. 

~ 

“How long are you gonna be gone this time?” She spoke to him from across the room, still in bed with just the comforter drawn up to cover her. 

She sounded as if she was trying to hold in the disappointment of him leaving again, hearing the slight wavering to her question as he finished doing up the zipper and button to his pants. It had been raining, the storm raging outside her window calming with a few stray drops to trickle down the glass panes. 

“About a few months, give or take.” 

He turned just in time to see her stick out her bottom lip in a pout, attention dropping to the floor in front of them. She heard him tisk, taking a few steps forward until he was sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. 

“Aw, come on, Baby Jane. I know you hate hearin’ anythin’ more than a month or two.” 

She scoffed. “I hate hearing you’ll be leaving, period, Frank.” 

His gaze dropped along with hers as he intertwined his fingers with hers resting in front of them. 

“I know.” 

“This time though, wherever you end up,” She started again and looked up to him, those honey-brown eyes hopeful and pleading. “When you return, bring me back a souvenir?” 

A soft chuckle spilled from his lips as he scooted forward, a hand raising with forefinger and thumb tracing and cradling her jaw. He brought her closer, their noses brushing with breaths pooling between them, feather-light and tentative. 

“Baby Jane, when I come back, I’ll bring a ring.” His voice dropped, “Finally make you mine.” 

The huff was sharp along his lips as she shook her head slightly. “Frank -” Their eyes met and she smiled. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Just… promise me you’ll come back.” 

He didn’t even hesitate with his answer. 

“Always.” 

~

His breath caught for a second, and he looked back down at the ring sitting in the center of his palm. 

Blue sapphire, Jane loved sapphire. She would say how it always reminded her of the ocean, the deep ocean where the water would extend for miles and miles below, where light would no longer touch. Paired with the diamonds, the colors flowed like waves crashing to the shore, seafoam mixing and bubbling at their feet. 

He had bought this ring only a couple of weeks after leaving Portland and remembered giving it to Reggie to hold onto after he made his final choice about Rapture. What he couldn’t recall was why he held onto the ring. He knew he’d never see Jane again after leaving for Rapture, and knew there was no way he’d see her down here as well. 

“- yeah it’s been a decade, but - you both are also here in an underwater city, of all places. Seems too good to be a bit of a coincidence, eh?” 

Coincidence, huh? A second chance - perhaps? 

Frank clicked his tongue, rolling the ring between his fingers and watching the stones catch the light and sparkle. They needed to be buffed out a bit, with how long they’d been sitting in the box, then maybe…just maybe - he could finally give it to Jane, as his apology, and to fulfill that promise he made all those years ago. 

It all seemed too simple, not knowing if it would even be enough to win Jane’s trust. And it wasn’t like he was expecting her to go telling everyone his secret, he just - wanted to put Fontaine aside and fix what they had. 

Because up there, it was all that he had. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

It wasn’t James at the front desk this time, but the kind woman on the other end of the line still asked if Jane would like to leave a message. Guess Ann wasn’t home. Jane hesitated for a second, wondering if it would be easier to just go down to the Drop instead. However, to not waste any more of the woman’s time, she said yes and was put over to Ann’s voicemail box a few seconds later. 

“Hey, Ann -” She began after hearing the droning beep. “I’m sorry I missed last week’s dinner. Things have been rather…hectic recently.” She paused to chuckle to herself. “I know you’re getting tired of hearing me use the same old excuses, I don’t blame you. I - um - I’ve been a pretty shitty friend recently.” There was another pause as Jane struggled to gather her thoughts. “Although, if you’d like, we could have brunch up at the Tea Garden sometime. In Arcadia?  As an apology for missing out on the last dinner…I do miss you, Ann. Call me soon. Bye.” 

She returned the phone to the receiver with a heavy sigh. However, about a couple of seconds later, the phone started ringing, and she didn’t waste a moment picking it up. 

“Hello, Ann?” 

“Ann?” 

“Oh, sorry, Brigid. I was expecting someone else.” 

The hum reverberated on the other end. “Do not apologize, it’s alright. I wanted to call and let you know that Jack will be ready to pick up tomorrow morning. I wish to keep him overnight to see if his nightly medication dosage needs to be increased or not.” 

“Yes, that’s fine. How’d he do?” 

She could hear Brigid talking to someone in the background before hearing her voice again, albeit a little faint. “He is alright. His checkup was normal and growing as he should. I have some dietary changes, otherwise, he should be okay to continue his routine as before.” 

Finally, some good news. And it wasn’t like she was expecting his monthly checkup to go horribly. Just with everything else going on, it was nice to have some normalcy. 

“Sounds good. I’ll be there to pick him up tomorrow morning.” 

They hung up after a quick goodbye and Jane was left to stand there in silence again, cursing at her motherly instincts for making her as emotional as they had each hour Jack wasn’t here at the complex. Taking a break from the labs today, Jane had instead filled her time off with cleaning just about anything and everything. Christmas was also just a couple of weeks away, and she even ventured out to get some decorations and a plastic tree - which Reggie was able to help her carry back. Earlier this morning after breakfast, she spent a good hour or two decorating the tree, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to find any sort of holiday joy. 

The loneliness was suffocating. 

Deciding to use the silence to her advantage, Jane took to the living room to read more of a new book she had just started, a perfect distraction. And over the next couple of hours, she found herself molded into the armchair she sat in with a blanket thrown over her shoulders and a cup of tea off to the side. The rumbling and whistling of the ocean off to her right proved to be some very much-needed background noise as she flipped page after page of her book, daydreaming of the male protagonist and his kind words, his trust, and affection showered on his lover. 

Soon enough, the whisps of steam stopped dancing above her cup, the caramel-colored liquid sitting in a small pool at the bottom of the pearl porcelain. She had shifted in that armchair about a dozen times now, realizing she should have changed before settling in as the fabric of her dress skirt started to become scratchy along her legs. And when the ink on the pages started to blur, she lifted her attention to focus on the window next to her. Finding the romance in the view and lights of the city in a haze of ocean debris and the sunlight just barely reaching the tip of even Rapture’s tallest building. 

Jane was honestly debating then on if she wanted to take a nap, feeling a pleasant sleepiness start to seep under her skin. The warmth of the blanket and the softness of the cushion below her started to lull her. Each of her eyes felt as if they were taking on a ton with lids staying closed just a tad longer each time she blinked. 

She forced her eyes back to her book, flipping through the next few pages to realize she was almost finished with the chapter she was on. Finding what little energy she could, she figured she could finish this chapter now and then make some dinner for herself. Maybe take a nice long hot shower before finally heading to bed, keeping this book on her nightstand just in case. 

The realization hit her then that she had no idea where Frank was. And honestly, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. The man could be drunk and gambling down in Fort Frolic and she’d only find it in herself to at least leave the light on in the foyer for when he’d come stumbling home. Too bad Fontaine kept his character uptight and at least semi-responsible. Probably off doing something much more nefarious, something which she wouldn’t dare question once he’d come slinking back through the front door, reserved and enigmatic. 

That bastard. 

A sudden frustration at just the thought of him felt like it was filling the space around her with a thick, briny sludge. It pissed her off, even more, to visualize that unreadable expression he was walking around with lately, as if he didn’t give a damn about how she was feeling after everything. Multiple times she even considered bringing out her cot to start sleeping in the living room again, the space between them on his bed not enough with his proximity alone forcing her away. 

Jane dog-eared the page she was on, finding it impossible to try and focus on the chapter she was reading now, and she set the book aside with a huff. 

That fight, she’s spent the majority of the week trying to forget everything from that fight. From everything that he had spat at her, to every tear wasted thinking he cared about her. That Fontaine actually cared about her at one point. Who was she to even trust now? He was two personalities in one. A man she fell in love with all those years ago, come back to haunt her as someone completely different. Someone still able to toy with her heart like a cat with a string. 

She couldn’t forgive Hartley because he had left her. She couldn’t forgive Fontaine because he had lied to her. 

And yet, she couldn’t leave. Not when Jack partially depended on her now, especially since Frank’s been coming back to the complex later and later each night. Not when she’s made this place feel like home and decorated for the holiday. 

Things would have to be resolved with Frank sooner or later. It was whether or not she’d keep things strictly platonic between them or come to the conclusion to leave altogether.

~*~

Surprised it was getting as late as it was and still no sign of Frank, Jane took advantage of the evening alone by cooking another favorite dinner of hers with a glass of wine and music playing in the dining room. There was a brief voice of concern that whispered in the back of her head, that voice was quickly snubbed by her second glass of wine. If anything bad had happened, Reggie would be there in a heartbeat to tell her what was going on. No news was good news at this point, and she went about her evening like everything was normal. 

Honestly, she preferred this, the peace that came with the isolation anyway. 

As the ocean became darker outside the complex, the tempting idea of taking a nice long and hot shower before bed was tantalizing, and she catered to that temptation. Only with the promise to herself to continue reading a bit before bed, maybe with another last cup of tea; anything to dwindle that frustration she was starting to feel again the longer he was away. Feeling as if she’d be responsible for whatever shit he’d get himself into, especially if he’d come home stumbling and pissy. 

Finishing with her shower, she took the extra time to get ready for bed. Throwing on her robe, not bothering yet with her nightgown since no one else was home, she relished in the steam from the hot water still sitting in the air around her as she went through her nightly routine. It was honestly some much-needed time for herself, and she realized if their fights only resulted in more time and care for herself, she’d consider pissing Frank off more often. And to help fan the flames a little more, she took to spritzing a tiny bit of her floral perfume along her collarbones, just to spite him. 

Stepping out from the bathroom, however, her stomach dropped seeing Frank standing near the fireplace with a lit cigarette in hand. 

He must have heard the door open then, turning with his expression still unreadable as he watched her step from the bathroom. Jane immediately felt defensive, her shoulders squaring as she lifted a hand to close the front of her robe. 

“You should have said something if you were waiting for the shower.” Her voice echoed back to her with a hint of disappointment. 

“Wasn’t waitin’ for the shower.” He responded, snuffing the cigarette out in the ashtray resting on the accent table between the armchairs. 

Jane watched him with wary eyes as he approached her, and it took every ounce of self-control to not step back the closer he got. 

“Was waitin’ for you.”

Normally, she wouldn’t mind the musky scent of the cigarette on his breath, but as soon as he was standing in front of her, she had to steel herself to keep from gagging. 

“Why?” The bitterness tasted just as sour on her tongue. “Whatever you have planned tonight, leave me out of it. I just want to go to bed.” 

She made a move to step around him, heat flaring in her chest when he stepped aside to block her. 

“Frank - “ She leveled her gaze at him, brows narrowed and daring. “Move.” 

The slight exhaustion evident along his features then was curious, seeing him up close now with the shadows stretching from the fireplace framing his face. His voice was hushed and…different. 

“Let me apologize to you first.” 

“Apologize?” She scoffed, he had to be joking. “Frank, you’ve got a decade to make up, to apologize for.” She didn’t believe he could do it, didn’t believe he had it in him to take on such a monumental vindication. 

“Then, at least let me start somewhere.” 

Seeing this face, this Fontaine persona, in any other light that wasn’t dominant, threatening, and commanding was both confusing and rare. It’s been so long since she’s even seen Frank Hartley as he was, only knowing this face and the cold mean look in his eyes, as she’s seen recently. 

But, the look he was giving her then was almost startling. 

He looked hopeful. As if she’d give him the chance to make things right between them. And she was fighting with herself about if it should even happen. If she should let him or continue to go about her daily routines without him, without any interactions, or involved conversations. It was a little unrealistic, but there was a choice being handed to her now, and the resentment was only building. 

The next question felt sharp on her tongue. “Why should I let you?” 

It looked like something was starting to crack in him. “You know, you don’t have to.” He sighed and stepped back a bit to shove his hands in his pajama pockets. “You don’t have to let me apologize to you. But, I want to, ‘cause I care about you.” 

“Do you?” She snapped, crossing her arms and watching him return to the front of the fireplace. 

He retrieved a lighter next to the ashtray sitting on the side table, flicking it open and lighting it a few times before speaking again. “You know, I do.” He glanced back at her. “I always have, or else I wouldn’t be tryin’ to apologize to you now.” 

That look pierced her heart and she took a few steps towards him, intrigued by his words. Watching him turn, he closed the lighter and placed it back on the table before approaching her as well, meeting her halfway. There was a softness in his eyes that borderline unsettled her, not knowing if it was genuine and if he meant all he was saying. 

Frank extended his hands, palms up towards her, asking for her permission and she eyed him with uncertainty. 

“How can I trust you?” 

The shrug was nonchalant, “Just give me a second chance, give this a second chance - between us.” 

The caution was still prevalent as she gingerly placed her hands within his own, flinching a little when his fingers encircled hers. He gave her a troubled look once he noticed the subtle action, waiting a few seconds for her shoulders to relax a little. She still very much wanted to stay upset with this man, wanted to pull her hand away and tell him no, that there was nothing he could do for her to forgive him. 

But, the smile to lift his lips was small and rather soft as he watched her relax a bit, giving in to curiosity and the desire to resolve this conflict between them. 

Jane just wanted things back to the way they were, with Fontaine, Hartley, or someone in between.

His actions were unhurried and cautious as he pulled her closer to him, encasing her within his arms as his hands settled along her lower back. He didn’t move for a second, probably waiting to see if she wanted this or not, and Jane responded by lifting her palms to rest hesitantly along his chest.

It still felt like there was a strange force between them, one that wasn’t allowing her to stand too close as it swelled between them for a second. She almost removed her hands completely, until she noticed he started to sway them side to side with feet shuffling a bit towards the fireplace. It was all rather confusing, and a bit surprising, just not expecting it from the man holding her right now. 

And yet, when she lifted her attention to his face, she only saw blue, realizing then she wasn’t looking at Fontaine. 

After a few moments of their gentle swaying, she finally noticed the faint music coming from the radio sitting on his dresser. A fluttering erupted in her gut once she realized that the song currently playing was one of her favorites, and she couldn’t help the weak eye roll. 

“Frank, you son of a bitch.” Jane muttered, a light scoff following her words as she turned back to him. “You think you’re so slick, huh?” 

The smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth was cheeky as he whispered. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” 

She huffed, exasperated, with a pout to immediately follow. He knew. He knew all the little tricks to win her over again, to get on her good side, to make her fall. And while it was infuriating, because she was supposed to be upset with him right now, it was all the more endearing. She was practically putty in his hands, and hopeless against his affection. 

The space between them remained silent, the ice they were treading on already thin and weak, and both very well knew it. Instead, they continued to rock to the music echoing from the radio, the noise bouncing off the high ceilings and reverberating with a haunting tone. Jane also couldn’t decide if she wanted to look him in the eye or not, her gaze shifting from the simplicity of his cotton shirt to the fire just over his shoulder. 

He whispered her name then, fishing for her gaze as he probably noticed she was avoiding eye contact. 

“I have somethin’ for you.”  

Knitting her brows, she watched him reach into his pocket to retrieve a small box, and her curiosity peaked. 

“Frank,” Jane huffed. “if you think you can apologize with some jewelry -” 

Before she could even finish, he opened the box to reveal a ring. 

Her jaw dropped along with the heavy weight in her stomach, hands lifting immediately to cover her mouth in shock. This couldn’t be what she thought it was, there was no way. 

Frank couldn’t help the slight smile before reaching for her hands to place the box into. The recently polished sapphire sparkling in the limited light around them. 

“I bought this a month after we last saw each other on the surface. I had full intentions to give this to you when I came back.” The smile started to fall as she looked up at him with tears brimming. “But, I caught word of Rapture a coupla weeks later. An’ the more I found out, the more I realized I couldn’t come back to you.” 

She looked down at the box again, her head shaking as if she meant to tell him this was the same excuse he’d been playing since she found out his true identity. 

“Jane - if I had come back, I would have never left. An’ the more I looked into Rapture, the more I planned - I realized I couldn’t bring you down with me.” He reached for her wrists as her hands began to shake a little, leaning down with his forehead resting against her own. “I thought about takin’ you, debated it with myself for so long. But, I didn’t want to see you dead because of me.” 

“So you just left ?” She tried to bite back with teeth bared, but the hitch in her voice told him it was all bark and very little bite.

He smiled again, “I did, but I kept this ring. Had Reggie hold onto it for me for a bit. I guess part of me couldn’t give it away or sell it. An’, Jane - “ 

Frank raised a hand to lift her chin, wanting to see those pools of honey, no matter if they were glassy, puffy red, and vulnerable. 

“We’re down here, a decade later, this time’s gotta be as good as any to finally give this to you. Fulfill my promise.” 

The scoff came across more as a hiccup as the first few tears finally started to fall. “You’re shit as keeping your promises.” 

The comment genuinely made him chuckle, “Trust me, I know.” 

There was a faint smile that crawled across her lips at his confession, prompting a giggle of her own. But, as she looked back down at the ring, a sudden hole seemed to cave in her chest. Guilt. Stone cold guilt.

“Frank -” The words sat like poison on her tongue, remembering his promise to her all those years ago. “I - I can’t marry you now. You know I can’t.” 

Something about her words drove a nail into his chest, words he never thought he’d hear in his life. ‘Marry him’. 

Marriage was something he could never tie himself down with, not with the life he lived, the things he’d get himself involved in. There was no way he could ever subject anyone else to that, to living his life. Which is why it stumped him when he was so willing to promise such a future with Jane back then. The first time he saw her, he honestly had no intentions of returning to Portland, returning to her. She was just another person he’d meet on his business trips or while on the run - just like every other woman he’d met. And she certainly wasn’t the first woman he’d thrown out the loose promise of marrying. 

She was the first he returned to though. 

Something drove him back to her like a magnet. Curiousness, intrigue, whatever it was, the pull she had was devastating in the best way. 

Her words caused a pit to form in his stomach, hearing the break in her voice, the disappointment of knowing they couldn’t - not down here in Rapture. 

“I know - “ The words hurt just as much coming out of his mouth. “An’ you don’t have to, not now. But,” He plucked the ring from the velvet casing it sat in, prompting her to hold the box in her right hand as he took her left, gently slipping it onto her ring finger. “It’s yours, wear it or not, it still belongs to you.” 

He rested his forehead against hers as she shifted and moved her finger with the stone catching the flickering light from the fireplace. It shone and sparkled like the sun on the ocean’s surface and he heard her breath hitch, a small tear falling onto the back of her hand. 

“Frank, I - “ She struggled just to look up at him, the sapphire stone almost mocking her as the tears started blurring her vision. “I don’t know what to think. This ring is gorgeous, but - “ Her breath shook her chest at the next sudden inhale, trying to control the tears threatening to stream down her face. “I care about you…I loved you -” 

‘I loved you.’  

He swore he felt his heart skip a beat at those three simple words. He’s had women mutter those words to him before, of course, after a few glasses of wine and in a drunken stupor mixing the concepts of lust and love. But with Jane, he knew she meant it, knew where those thoughts and feelings were coming from. And he hated it. Hated leading her on, hated the way she pulled him in, and refused to let him go. Even when he’d be miles and miles away - she never left his mind, always sitting in the back with her warm smile and mellow gaze. 

He hated it, hated her. 

But, loving her was somehow easier. 

“An’, I love you.” 

The words were whispered along her temple, taking the box from her hand to place it on the accent table. 

“You don’t have to forgive me, I didn’t expect you to right away.” He lowered his head to rest against her forehead again. “But, I wanna start somewhere. Even if that means startin’ over.” 

He took her hands again, his thumbs stroking over the pink of her knuckles as she remained silent. Her attention was still fastened to the ground beneath them and he wanted to see her eyes again. 

“Jane -” He whispered, coaxing her to look up. And when she did, he felt his breath catch in his throat. 

She was crying, so silently, almost calmly as those golden pools looked at him with a hope she seemed afraid to show. 

“Talk to me.” 

Her breath hitched as she inhaled, shaking, and closing her eyes to keep the tears from spilling. “What - what do you want me to say?” 

He reached a hand to thumb away some of the tears. “Whatever you’re afraid to tell me right now.” 

Another stuttering breath, “I love you, Frank.” And still, her smile melted through the tears. “But I’m afraid to love a man who isn’t as I remembered him to be.” 

His chest clenched and he lowered his head to place a feather-light kiss on her forehead. “I’m the same man, I promise. To you, I am. To you an’ only to you.” 

“How can I believe you?” Her tone dipped to almost a whisper as another tear streamed down her cheek. 

Frank tilted his head a bit, just watching her holding back every and all emotions, trying desperately to keep as straight and shallow a facade as she could. 

His voice was equally as low, the firewood popping behind them threatening to overshadow his words. “What do you want me to do? To make you believe me?” 

He searched her eyes, trying to decipher her conflicting thoughts, swimming through the apprehension. 

Time seemed to have stopped then as she looked at him, her vulnerability at that moment almost startling through the teary glaze over her eyes, “Kiss me like you haven’t seen me in 10 years.” 

He didn’t even hesitate, dipping down to capture her lips in a slow and desperate kiss. 

And as the salt of her tears lingered on her lips, he decided then and there that all Jane would have was him as she knew him. Fuck Rapture, fuck Ryan, and fuck Fontaine. He was Frank Hartely to her, and he's all she should ever know. 

Jane reached for him, gripping and tugging on the back of his shirt, wanting to get closer to him now that she finally had him back. The slow swaying they were doing before to the music still drifting from the radio led them between the armchairs and fireplace. 

Every single emotion bubbling below her skin felt like it was starting to boil over. All the doubts she had about him before, all the times he’s kissed her, cuddled with her, fucked her…Why he let her stay at his complex, sleep in his bed, trust him with Jack - it all started to make sense. And after getting over the initial fact that it was him, hearing him say he cared and wanted to try and make things better, she wanted so desperately to believe him. 

But, they had to take things slow, to allow her to work through everything and start forgiving him. The ring was a start - his form of an apology, a start. This, kissing her, holding her like he hadn’t seen her in a decade, the emotional weight of it buckled her knees and she went limp in his grasp. 

Frank lowered them both to the ground in front of the fireplace as the tears continued their steady stream down her face. Half-choked hiccups separated them, long enough for him to thumb away the tears and nuzzle along her nose before finding her lips again. He had her in his lap, her legs drawn up encased in his own with her hands still gripping like a lifeline at his shirt, his arms, his wrists; desperately wanting the physicality of him - not wanting to lose him again if she let go. 

The crying turned to full-on sobbing at some point with her fists clutching to his shirt as she soaked his collar. She couldn’t stop shaking at one point either, attempting to curl herself as tightly as she could against him as he whispered reassuring words along the shell of her ear. 

It felt like hours had passed before she started to calm down, the tears drying with her death grip on his shirt loosening at some point as well. The fire continued to crackle in front of them as the space fell silent, both of them watching the hypnotic dancing of the dwindling golden flames. 

After all of that, though, she swore she felt five times better. Leaning her head back against his shoulder, she settled more into his lap with a deep exhale, trying to place herself in this moment instead of letting the past consume her anymore. 

“You alright?” The words were hushed against her temple and she nodded. 

“I am. I think…I think I needed that. Needed to get all of it off my chest.” 

The chuckle was faint behind her. “Must’ve been holdin’ all that back for years .”

You have no idea. 

Jane huffed a laugh at the thought, also feeling a lot more comfortable with the man behind her, and turned a bit to look at him. 

“Were you telling the truth? About wanting to make things right between us?” 

His brows knit, a half-smile quirking his features at her question. “I was. Do you still trust me to?” 

Not thinking twice about it, she nodded again in response. “You know, that means I’m gonna hold you to it - your promise this time around.” 

Jane held her breath as another chuckle bubbled from him, leaning closer with his words ghosting across her lips. “I’m counting on it.” 

The giggle didn’t make it too far past her lips before he closed the space between them, his hands finding her waist to move her on his lap so she’d be facing him. Jane slipped both her knees outside of his thighs, her shins resting against the scratchy carpet below them as she propped herself on his lap. Her palms lifted to cradle his jaw, the scruff along his skin prickly against her fingers as the kiss deepened. 

Her breath shuttered as she felt his hands along her thighs, slipping under the fabric of her robe only for her to remember that she didn’t have anything underneath. The chill of the metal ring on her hand trailed an icy path from his jaw down to his chest, fingers toying with the collar of his shirt. 

“You want somethin’?” The roughness of his voice lifted the hair along her arms. But what left a chill to run its fingers down her spine was that he didn’t sound like Fontaine then, his accent light and tone less harsh. “All you gotta do is ask, you know that.” 

“I know.” Her nose brushed his own and she searched for his lips again, teeth just barely catching his lower lip with a breathy moan. “I want you, but -” Was it too soon? She needed to give herself time, needed to give them time, but she also needed him just as badly. 

“I just don’t want this to only be about sex - between us.” 

He leaned back, causing a whine to slip as she stared at him with eyes wide. Lifting her left hand from his shirt, Frank made a show of placing shallow kisses to the pad of each of her fingers, then pausing at the ring to place another kiss along the band. 

“Since when was it ever just about sex between us?” 

Immediately, she thought about her and Fontaine. But even then, it was a recent thing between them. Fontaine let her into his complex, trusted her with Jack, told her he liked her, and let her sleep in his bed way before that night after the gala. 

Her hesitation caused a smirk to tilt his lips and he chuckled. “Believe me, the sex is great, but it was never the only thing we had.” 

The ring was a testament to that, back then and now. And that comment alone encouraged a smile as she surged forward to claim his lips again. 

“You know just what to say, don’t you?” 

He shrugged with a chuckle as she pulled away. “I know you -” His voice was hushed. “No matter how long it’s been.” 

A heat bloomed across her chest, an immense feeling of warmth lodging itself in her throat again with a few tears clouding her vision. She could see it on his face that this moment between them was a bridge spanning from when they last saw each other on the surface to right here, right now. Before he had left to catch the train back to - wherever he was going - she had held onto him so tightly as they slowly rose from the clutches of sleep. It was raining that morning like it almost always did in Portland, and she begged him to stay in bed for just a little longer before she’d make them breakfast. Maybe she knew what was to come, maybe she knew that would be the last time she’d see him. 

Maybe they were supposed to find each other again. 

Jane lifted his hands to cradle his face, and she wanted nothing more than to just lay in his arms for the rest of the night. Standing from his lap, she extended a hand to help him from the floor as well, guiding them both back to the bed.

Frank had sat first, suddenly pulling her to stand between his legs as he held her waist with lips finding her own. Their movement was slow and gentle with noses brushing and soft giggles pouring into the minuscule space between them. He helped her back onto his lap as she straddled his legs, whispering with each breath. 

“Frank, I want us again. Please. If there’s anything I want right now -” 

Honey eyes stared, glazed over and glassy, but spoke an honest plea. 

He smiled, genuine and soft as he leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose. “I’ll have you, so long as you’ll have me.” 

“I’ll take you.” Jane didn’t hesitate with her answer, “All of you.” 

“Even Fontaine?” 

She placed her hands on his chest, leaning back a bit to stare at him for a moment. He could see the gears turning, thoughts processing before her lips curved into a smile. 

“As long as Fontaine’ll have me.” 

The smirk followed his hands as he wrapped his arms around her, falling back onto the mattress with a squeak of surprise as Jane settled on top of him. His palms lowered, dragging over the silk fabric of her robe to rest along her lower back, whispering along the shell of her ear. 

“You know, I never accounted for havin’ a woman by his side, but if that’s what the rest of Ratpure is already spreadin’ rumors about -” His features lowered then, turning serious in a heartbeat. “As long as you promise to take this secret to your grave.” 

Jane tilted her head with a slow nod, “Of course. Your secret is my own.” She gave a reassuring smile. 

Another promise made, another secret to keep. 

This time around, however, she knew he wouldn’t be leaving her.

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

When the invitation came, Frank couldn’t help the audible groan at the embellished AR sealing the envelope, setting aside the rest of the day’s mail. Jane was also in the kitchen cleaning up from dinner when she heard the noise, looking at him from over her shoulder with a brow raised.

“Let me guess - “ She reached to turn the sink’s faucet off, toweling her hands dry. “Something from Ryan?” 

“An invitation.” Frank held up the small card that sat inside the envelope, “for a New Year's party at the Welcome Center.”  

Jane set the towel aside and paced over to see the invitation as well. “What’s the day and time?” 

“New Year's Eve, guess the whole thing starts ‘round 7 pm an’ goes till…whenever.” He held the card out to her as she read over all the details. 

However, the silence was a bit curious, knowing this might have been something Jane would have said yes to right away as reporters from the Tribune would most likely be there - looking for her and Fontaine no doubt. But, she clicked her tongue in thought, crossing her arms with a nod. 

“Let’s not go.” 

Not go? “Why?” 

“Because,” Jane turned to stroll towards a cabinet to pluck a glass from the bottom shelf, “I’m tired of always being invited to these things and having to leave Jack all alone with Reggie.” A huff puffed past her lips as she filled the glass with lemonade from the fridge. “Granted, Reggie’s probably the best person for Jack to be with when we’re out but, I just want to spend this holiday with you, and Jack - and Reggie, if he’d like.” 

“You’d rather stay here?” 

After taking a generous sip, she nodded. “I do. Celebrate the New Year with all of you instead of a hundred random people crammed into the Welcome Center.” 

The smirk to lift the corner of his lips was small as he paced over to where she was leaning against the island. He reached a steady hand out as she passed the glass to him, sampling the lemonade she had just made this morning. 

Nodding both in approval of the lemonade and her choice to not attend the party, he stated, “Alright. We’ll stay.” And without a moment of hesitation, he tore the invitation in two with the remains floating into a nearby waste bin. 

If she wanted to stay, he’d gladly take a quiet evening with her and Jack - and Reggie - over empty conversations with Ryan and a constant stream of camera flashes in his face. And he had no doubt there’d be some questions as to why they didn’t go - but right now he could give less of a shit. 

Something to just deal with later, right? 

~*~

When New Year’s Eve came, they ended up ordering a ton of food from the Bistro while Jane also made a couple of favorite dishes and snack items for Jack. Inviting Reggie as well, who fortunately said yes, Jane was worried at first if there was enough food to feed all four of them. As the night went on, however, she was glad to see them all satisfied with leftovers still on the bar and covering the coffee table they were all huddled around in the living area. They even decided to give Jack his nightly medication later, so the poor boy wouldn’t be knocked out before 10 pm and have the chance to count down the New Year with the rest of them. 

And with radio crackling next to them as they passed the time with a few television shows, board games, and casual conversations; they each indulged in a few drinks with Jack even partaking in some lemonade well past his bedtime. He couldn’t be happier though, spending this time with three of his favorite people, and Jane couldn’t find an ounce of regret in her decision to stay in tonight. 

“So, who decided not to go to Ryan’s party?” Reggie slurred a bit around the rim of yet another glass of bourbon, reclined in a near armchair. 

Frank pointed an accusing finger at Jane who lounged along his side, both relaxed on the couch, with his arm draped over her shoulder. “I honestly wouldn’t have cared either way, but this beats talkin’ nonsense with Ryan.” 

Jane had rolled her eyes once spotting his pointer finger in her peripheral, swatting it away with a huff and a barely concealed smile. 

“Didn’t take a lot of convincing otherwise, you agreed with me rather quickly.” 

“‘Cause he knows what’ll happen if he didn’t.” Reggie chuckled. 

Frank tossed an extra pillow from the couch in Reggie’s direction, the man hollering at him after it almost smacked the drink right out of his hand. His outburst was only met with laughter, however, the moment reminiscent of those few nights all three would spend together at the bar during one of Jane’s shifts. Of course, with the addition of Jack, who sat happily at the coffee table drawing in a coloring book he had gotten for Christmas. 

However, neither could disagree with the decision that was made. This atmosphere was certainly favored over whatever the hell was currently going on at the Welcome Center, and Frank couldn’t help the subtle smirk at the inward thought of Ryan looking all over the damn place for him and Jane. Sorting through crowds of people packed into the place like a can of sardines with numerous journalists from the Tribune on his tail the entire night. 

Eh, fuck ‘im. 

After a few drinks, Reggie suggested they play a game to occupy the time, both him and Frank well on their way to being shit-faced while Jane still tried to keep herself to two glasses of wine - for Jack’s sake. The sight was rather hilarious though, the two men arguing over which board game to play until they settled on Scrabble, suggested by Jack of course. And while the game itself was pointless with the two men both tipsy enough, temporarily losing their ability to spell even the simplest of words, Jack was able to reign in his win. Although Frank and Reggie could argue they had let him win. 

As they fussed over whether to play another round or try their hands at a quick game of poker, Jane took to cleaning up some of the extra food along the bar to stick in the fridge downstairs. Excusing herself, Jane grabbed a couple of plates and made her way back to the kitchen, with the additional promise to bring Reggie back another drink as well. 

It was much quieter downstairs, away from the music and laughter as Jane took to cleaning a bit and packing away the leftovers to freeze. Just as she was finishing with a favorite pasta dish she had made just for Jack, footsteps were heard rounding the corner into the kitchen with a sigh. 

“You’re gonna have t’make more of that lemonade, think Jack’s about on his third glass t’night.” 

“Which should be his last.” She gave Frank a stern side glance with only half the bite. “The last thing we need is his medication not working because of the extra sugar in his system.” 

Frank shrugged as he poured the boy another glass. “Eh, he’ll be fine. Kid’s gonna be exhausted just from stayin’ up past his bedtime anyway.” He turned to Jane after placing the pitcher back in the fridge. “Bet he’s still gonna pass out quicker than the rest of us. As soon as 12:01 hits,” He snapped his fingers. “Out.” 

“You can only hope so.” She gave him a quick smirk as she grabbed for the wine glass that had been following her around the complex all night. However, before she could leave the kitchen, she felt his hands quickly snag her waist, guiding her back over to him. 

“Com’on, Doll.” Jane relished in how relaxed he’s appeared all night, his features calm and eyes mellow. “Once Jack’s in bed an’ Reggie either leaves for the night or crashes on the couch, I promise we’ll ring in the New Year in private.” 

She could feel the blush stain her cheeks, and yet it had been something both were rather anxious about the entire week since they decided not to attend Ryan’s party. Never had they spent a New Year together, Frank always needing to leave town weeks before the holiday. And Jane made him promise this time around, that she’d have him all to herself once that clock struck midnight. Of course, he didn’t hesitate to make that promise either. 

“Just, please be sober enough to enjoy it.” 

A scoff followed her as she gingerly peeled herself away from the man, heading back upstairs with Reggie’s bourbon refill as well. 

“You accusin’ me of bein’ a lightweight?” His words trailed behind her back up the stairs to the living area. 

Jane gave him a glance over her shoulder, “Of course not. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, just don’t want you passing out the second we make it back to the bedroom.” 

Just as they approached the sliding door, the sudden and rather firm grip on her ass startled her enough to where she almost dropped both hers and Reggie’s drink. Turning to him with a scowl, she hissed his name in warning with a shit-eating grin as his response. 

Frank had leaned in with breath hot along the shell of her ear. “Trust me, Doll - I wouldn’t dream of missin’ out on this.” He made his point with another solid squeeze to her ass. “Gonna make t’night extra special for ya.” 

She felt his words trail down her spine, deft fingers feather-light against her near-sweltering skin as she whispered to him over her shoulder. 

“I count on it.” 

~

Jack had situated himself on Frank’s lap as they all sat around the TV, the boy swinging his legs in excitement as they watched the live footage from the Welcome Center. The countdown had started, and the massive crowd surrounding a large clock in the Center all started chanting in unison with the last few remaining seconds of the year ticking away. Jack had begun counting down with them, little hands clapping along until the clock finally struck midnight - signaling the start of 1957. The Welcome Center erupted into chaos with confetti raining down from the ceiling and the mass of people all jumping and celebrating. The boy watched in wonder, eyes wide and sparkling in the light from the television as he turned around to Jane, Frank, and Reggie with a wide grin. 

“Happy New Year, Jack!” Jane leaned over to kiss the boy’s cheek with a squeezing hug to follow. 

Jack’s giggling filled the room as Frank also squeezed the boy in his arms, echoing Jane’s words before leaning over to capture her lips in a quick kiss. However, the look he gave her after they separated suggested there was more to come when they were finally alone. Jack interrupted them with a vocal “ew!” at their kiss, and Frank didn’t hesitate to start tickling the boy. Jack’s giggling turned to full-on laughter as he caved in on himself. 

“Come on, Frank, with how much lemonade you gave the kid that might not be the best idea.” Reggie chuckled from his spot in the armchair. 

Frank scoffed, giving Jack one last squeeze before patting the boy’s shoulder and clearing his throat. “Nah, the kid’s fine. Why don’tcha start gettin’ ready for bed, huh, Jack?” 

The small pout was immediate on the boy’s face, upset about the evening coming to an end so soon and yet Jane was quick to stand and hold a hand out to him. Being that they had just given Jack his medication a little over an hour ago, Jane encouraged the boy to follow her before he’d pass out for the night. 

“Let’s go, Jack, you’re gonna be really sleepy here soon. Let’s wash up before you get too tired.” 

Eventually, the boy took her hand with a rather reluctant look scrunching his features, Frank ruffling Jack’s hair with a final goodnight. Jack even took a second to wave to Reggie goodnight, racing over to give the man a quick hug and an echo of everyone’s “Happy New Year” to each other moments ago. And as soon as the two left the living area, Reggie gave a soft chuckle. 

“Frank, if you told me this is where you’d be at the end of this year, I’d have said you’d be lying outch-your ass.” 

He gave a half-hearted shrug, finishing off the glass that was perched on the coffee table in front of him. “I probably would have said the same thing.” 

They sat in silence for a few seconds, the television still on in front of them with a few reporters from the Tribune talking one-on-one with individuals at the party. One of the individuals happened to be Ryan, and Frank couldn’t help but smirk at the subtle distressed look underlining the man’s face. 

“You bunkin’ here t’night?” Frank finally tilted his head in Reggie’s direction to ask. 

“Yeah -” The man twisted himself in the armchair, a few spots in his back popping as he sighed. “I’m in no mood to try an’ make my way back at this point, if that’s alright.” 

Another shrug. “That’s fine. Jane’s got a cot if you’d prefer that over the couch.” 

Frank stood up then, shuffling the pillows around that he’d been leaning on as Reggie stood as well. 

“Nah, it’s alright. Not like I haven’t borrowed your couch for the night before.” 

Going through the routine of shutting everything off in the living area, Frank gathered the remaining glasses and dishes from the coffee table and shuffled to the door. Before it even clicked open, Reggie had cleared his throat and called to him, Frank turning with a brow raised. 

“Try not to make too much noise t’night.” The smirk was telling. “You know I’m a light sleeper.” 

Frank scoffed, rolling his eyes with another mumbled goodnight as he left the living area for the kitchen. 

No promises. 

Setting everything into the sink to take care of in the morning, Frank took the time to turn off all the lights downstairs before making his way back up to the bedroom. Jack’s door was already cracked, his bedroom light off and he toed to his bedroom, avoiding all creaking floorboards along the way. With the door shuttering closed behind him, he heaved a sigh and rounded the corner of the frosted wall to find Jane tuning the radio on his dresser and lowering the volume just enough to create some soft background noise. 

Already dressed down in a new silk nightgown he had given her for Christmas - a lace number that showed a bit more skin and could be classified more as lingerie than anything, she turned once hearing footsteps and an immediate smile bloomed on her face. Meeting him halfway in front of the loveseat at the end of the bed, she was quick to slip her fingers under the suspenders hooked over his shoulders, lowering them until they hung from the waist of his pants. Deft hands slid up the material of his shirt, stopping along his chest as she pressed herself closer, her body molding into his own. 

“Happy New Year, Frank.” Her voice was hushed, breath fanning over his lips as she looked up towards him from under her lashes. 

His mouth curved at the action. “Happy New Year, Jane.” And his own hands were quick to find purchase along her waist. 

“I take it Reggie’s staying the night?” 

The anticipation leading up to this very moment started bubbling again in his chest, watching her start to undo his shirt, popping each button one by one at a snail’s pace. 

“He is. Said somethin’ ‘bout not makin’ too much noise. The man’s always been a light sleeper.” 

Pop. 

The hum raddled from her throat. “I was actually thinking of introducing Reggie to Ann sometime. She was asking about him during the last dinner we had a few weeks ago. Could tell she was a little smitten.” 

“Your friend, right?” 

Pop. 

A nod. “Thought she was with that other guy. The one from the front desk at the Deluxe?” 

“James?” Jane chuckled. Pop. “Nah, those two are like brother and sister more than anything.” 

Pop. 

“You didn’t have any right? Brothers or sisters?” 

Jane shook her head. “No. Neither did you?” 

Pop. 

“Not that I know of.” 

Another hum, and Jane was finally able to untuck the article from his pants as she slid it over his arms. She couldn’t help but notice how the fabric stretched a bit along his shoulders as she shrugged it off of him, eyes wondering over the muscles of his arms and how broad his chest had gotten from when she last saw him on the surface. A scrawny thing, nothing too impressive about him physique-wise. No defined abs or muscle under his shirts. He was certainly still a looker, she only wondered when and how he was able to bulk up so much since then. 

Frank must have noticed her staring, eyes wondering as she worked next on untucking his undershirt. 

Then, so nonchalant, “We should give Jack a sibling.” 

Jane stopped, hands frozen in place on the waist of his pants as she turned a wary eye up towards him. 

“What was that?” 

“You know,” Tug. “A brother or sister, keep the kid company.” 

She shook her head, her auburn hair shifting around with the action. “Jack’s not even your own son.” 

“Eh, might as well be, at this point.” 

Her hands managed to free the undershirt from him as well, pulling it up and over his head to join the button-down lying in a heap on the floor next to them. 

“You know we’ve talked ‘bout it on the surface before.” 

She gave him another pointed look from under her brows, fingers working at the button of his pants next, sliding the zipper down carefully, and finally tugging at the waist. 

Off. 

The article pooled around his ankles, and he was quick to step out and kick the pants to the side. 

And just as he was about to open his mouth again, her pointer finger was suddenly resting on his lips to stop him. 

“A different conversion for another time.” She hushed. “I believe you owe me an ‘extra special night’?” 

Like hell he did. 

Frank lifted a hand to wrap around her wrist, lowering it to palm him through his boxers with the ghost of a smirk along his features. He half expected her to recoil at his action, finding her to not be the type to be told what to do - especially in the bedroom. She had been like that on the surface as well, challenging him, and ever since finding out his secret, Jane had reverted to that behavior. But, hey, he wasn’t complaining. Frank enjoyed the challenge, the push and pull, and the rewards once he finally got her under him. 

Instead, she met his smirk with a coy smile of her own, leaning into him to bite fleeting kisses into the junction of his shoulder with a not-so-subtle squeeze to his hardening dick. The sharp inhale to bleed past his teeth only spurred her on, her free hand putting pressure along his chest to guide him. He honestly didn’t give a fuck about where she was leading him, the jolt of pleasure shooting up his spine as she stroked him from base to tip distracting enough. Until he felt his calves hit the loveseat, and she tipped him back to drop among the plush cushions. 

Lowering to her knees, he immediately opened his legs for her to kneel between with a huff. 

“Thought I’d be the one spoilin’ you t’night.” The copious amounts of alcohol he indulged in throughout the night were starting to catch up to him, words still slurring a bit as his gaze narrowed on her. 

“Please, Frank -” She giggled. “With all you’ve done for me this year? At least give me the pleasure of getting you hard.” 

Not like she really needed to try all that much. Just seeing her in that poor excuse of a “nightgown” was enough to yank him to the edge. 

Seconds later, she had his boxers down, stroking him in languid motions. Another sharp inhale crept up on him when she touched her lips to his head, tongue hot as it ran a path along the underside of his cock before sinking down, taking him almost to the hilt. 

Little whore. 

Frank lolled his head back as she kept a sudden and unrelenting pace, hallowing her cheeks and bobbing her head as he lifted shaking hands to card through her hair. Not even the devil could tell him where she’s picked up on her apparent skills, certainly not remembering her being this eager and fucking good on the surface, but hell if it wasn’t the sweetest treat. 

The eventual heaving of his chest as he gripped either side of her head didn’t even stop her then, a warning, feeling his abdomen tighten and hips lift from the loveseat did, however, and she popped off with a soft kiss to his head. His bleary vision rolled back down to her, feeling as if his soul was returning to his body at the sight of his hardened cock in her hands, all innocent eyes staring back at him. 

“My turn.” She whispered, using his knees to stand and prop herself on his lap, legs settling on either side of his thighs as she lifted the nightgown just a bit to reveal nothing underneath. 

However, the rather obvious sheen along the inside of her thighs told him she wouldn’t need much to get herself ready, but his hand lifted anyway with two fingers dragging along her folds. The visible shutter to wrack her form was sinful, and his free hand reached to pull her down to meet his lips - finally giving her a proper New Year’s kiss. 

Jane lifted her hands to steady herself along his shoulders, rocking her hips into his palm as he inserted two of his fingers into her dripping heat. It didn’t take long, though, before she started to grow rather impatient and dipped a hand to remove his fingers from her completely. Her actions were starting to throw him for a loop, sudden and desperate now as she lined herself above his cock. Sinking down slowly, she snagged his gaze and never let go until he was bottomed out, her mouth dropping open with a breathless gasp. 

With her sweltering heat gripping his dick like a vice, his hands immediately found her waist with a few unhurried thrusts meeting the experimental roll of her hips. And while he loved the way the nightgown hugged the slight curve of her hips, he’d rather see it off and on the floor next to his own discarded clothes. Doing just that, she didn’t seem to put up much of a fight as he rid her of the garment, his mouth inches from her chest as she was situated slightly elevated. Not even hesitating, he took one peaked nipple between his teeth, humming to himself as he watched her arch on his next sharp thrust up into her. 

“Frank, t-that’s -” Cut off by his lips giving the other bud the same attention, Jane squeezed her eyes shut at the overwhelming feeling melting from her chest to her pelvis. 

Alright, his turn. 

Gripping around with hands holding the back of her thighs, he stood, a squeak slipping past her lips as she locked her ankles against his lower back. Moving them to the bed, Frank dropped her first and pulled himself from her, giving a quick nod to the bedpost at the bottom right of the bed’s frame.

She gave him a quizzical look, glancing back to the post before realizing what he was telling her to do. 

Hold on. 

Falling on all fours, Jane crawled to the post, draping herself and digging her fingers into each embellished groove carved into the wood. With her ass facing him, she turned to look at him over her shoulder, curious but thrilled when he crawled up onto the mattress towards her with a feral look flashing in his eyes. 

“Told ya I wouldn’t be missin’ out on this.” He growled into her ear, grabbing her ass by the handfuls before trailing a hand up her spine to adjust her to his liking. 

With her chest pressing into the cool wood, he entered her from behind, his cock sliding against that nerve-rich wall and she knew at that point there was no way in hell she’d last long. His hands found her waist again as he’d lean forward to occasionally press fleeting kisses to the skin along the back of her shoulder and whisper words dripping in iniquity against the shell of her ear. Each thrust pinned her to the bedpost, her hands desperate to keep any sort of purchase, to keep her from slipping completely. 

Frank leaned forward then, noticing one hand having trouble keeping a grip, and he encased her hand in his own, fixing her to the post with a low chuckle puffing along her neck. 

“Imagine if we had gone to that party.” He teased the skin there with teeth scraping. “Imagine if you had worn that dress.” Yep, the navy number with the slit along the thigh. He knew she eventually wanted to go back and get it herself but decided to gift it to her for Christmas. 

He truly spoiled her and Jack this holiday season. 

“Somethin’ tells me Ryan would have found us in a closet somewhere, that dress hiked up, my cock fuckin’ you deep into the wall.” 

His words were a sweltering heat trickling like a slowly dripping faucet onto her skin. 

It’s a good thing they didn’t go then. And yet, something struck her in the back of her mind that he just might very well keep that vision stored for another time, another gala or party. She’d be damned if the idea didn’t entice some rather complicated but exhilarating feelings. 

Rather than respond outright, Jane could only vocalize a whine with each slap of his hips into her ass, back bowing with each thrust unyielding against that wall of nerves that ignited a dangerous fire in her pelvis. A fire that was only fanning, and she quickly guided his hand encasing her own down between her legs. Getting the hint, Frank smiled into her hair with fingers rubbing at her clit in time with his thrusts. 

She kept her hand on his own, gripping his wrist the tighter the coil wound itself until she tilted her head back to gasp. 

“Frank, I - I can’t hold - “ 

The motion was quick as he lifted her from the post to fall back against him, positioned on their knees with his thrusts starting to lose their rhythm as she clenched around him. 

“Hold on, Baby Jane.” His breath started coming in pants, his lips to her temple damp with sweat. 

And when he felt himself teetering the edge as well, the hand that had been leaving bruises on her hip reached to tilt her head, capturing her lips in a heated kiss as permission to cum. A few seconds later, she stilled in his grasp, listing forward as he followed, her walls clenching and milking him until he felt the coil snap and started cumming along with her. 

He pulled himself from her, sitting back on his heels and tugging her with him until they were propped by the headboard. A bone-deep exhaustion settled over him then, a heady mix of the alcohol, staying up as late as they did, all of Jane’s good food, and the sex he honestly could not get enough of. Frank lolled his head to the left, gaze unseeing out the window to the rest of the city still awake and celebrating. No doubt that Ryan’s party was still going strong as well, knowing his do’s to span well into the early hours of the morning; especially when there were people like himself who only “worked” when they wanted to and had others to do the actual dirty work for them. He would have gone to the party too, but the feather-light touches to his chest drew his attention back from the window, watching Jane scrawl patterns along his skin as her head rested atop his heart. 

And honestly, he couldn't think of anywhere else to be right now.

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

Jane had perched herself on the corner of the large oak desk, humming to the radio situated just feet from her while reviewing an ad idea from the Industries about her “incredible ADAM Elixer set to sustain Rapture indefinitely!”. While it wasn’t a bad message, she still couldn’t get over the little white lies riddled throughout the thing. Indefinitely? Hardly. There was no way there would ever be an infinite enough source of ADAM for her to create so much of this stuff to completely sustain Rapture on its own. This is why she stressed that ‘this is not a replacement for the natural source of magma already being converted into energy’ during the big meeting. ADAM surely didn’t grow on trees or anything. 

Oh well. If it garnered the right attention and created the exposure and support it needed to. Just another reason why she didn’t go into Marketing like her father, she certainly couldn’t come up with anything better. 

The song changed then, the announcer on the opposite end of the radio’s speaker dedicating the next track to a lover and the subtle instrumental twangs of La mer set a smile on her lips. The music soaked through the little box, causing her to sway slightly to the slow beat as she thumbed through different versions of the same ad. 

Lifting her gaze occasionally, she side-eyed the man who was standing off to the side of the desk, hands supporting him against a long table that housed more ads half-organized along its length. Frank had shed his suit jacket at some point, the article hanging over the back of his desk’s chair with the dove-gray vest he matched to his pants stretching across his broad form. 

A question popped into her head then, one that she had been waiting for the right moment to ask, and finding him to be rapidly losing interest in the multitude of ads - 

“Hey, Frank?” Her voice cracked a little after sitting in silence for the last half hour or so. Clearing her throat, she heard a hum of acknowledgment from him. “When did you first know it was me?” 

She was met with another faint “Hmm?” as Frank barely glanced over his shoulder at her. 

Jane sat the manila folder she had been holding aside, crossing her legs and smoothing out the creases of her skirt. She repeated her question. “When did you first know it was me? You know - from the surface?” 

He turned his full attention towards her then, a brow raised before closing another folder he had been collecting ads he didn’t take an interest in. 

“The second day you were at the complex.” Shuffling some other ads around, Jane leaned forward a bit. “Reggie told me after you mentioned somethin’ to him while on the sphere to the Market. ‘Bout where you were from, the bar you worked at. Was able to put two an’ two together pretty quickly.” 

Wow, he’s known for that long, huh? 

Another question was sitting heavy on her tongue, after finally getting that one off her chest. “What about when we first met on the surface?” She watched him pause his movements for a second before straightening out a pile of ads he’d been mixing together. “You know - considering you might have had other…aliases. Who were you when you came into The Siren that night?” 

He moved with the stack of ads over towards his desk where she sat, placing the pile next to her while his opposite hand found his pocket. Leaning against the desk, he gave her a rather incredulous expression with the ghost of a smirk on his face. Tilting his attention back to the front of his office, almost as if he was waiting to see if anyone would come busting through, he turned back to her with a click of his tongue. 

His voice was low. “Frank Gorland, a barkeep in New York. 

New York? “Why were you in Portland?” 

Steel-blue eyes narrowed, the look he was giving her razor-sharp and bordering something dangerous. He reached for the pearl necklace around her neck, a recent gift, brushing his thumb and forefinger over the strand before exhaling a deep sigh. 

“Sometimes, I’d get the wrong people askin’ the wrong questions. An’ instead of answerin’, I’d skip town for a bit. Just long enough to lose their scent.” His fingers dropped the necklace, his hand finding the neighboring pocket of his pants to fiddle with the lighter buried deep. “Wandered North for a good bit ‘til I ended up in Portland. It was a small town, not likely for anyone to know me, so I hung around for a coupla weeks.”

She was still confused. “So, why did you introduce yourself to me as Frank Hartley?” 

He huffed a breath, glancing back towards the front of his office then and she could see the slight paranoia riddling his brow. “You’re askin’ a lot of loaded questions here, Doll. Could get you into trouble.” 

Her shrug was nonchalant, “With whom? You? Fontaine ?” 

Frank didn’t seem too convinced, leaning in a bit closer to her then. “Where’s all this comin’ from? The questions?” 

Curiosity was something she could never shake, even as a child, always digging herself into deeper holes because she was curious about a rumor, or some gossip; trying to stay out of those things as much as she could. But, she couldn’t help it sometimes; especially with a man introducing himself to her as someone beneath a plethora of masks, someone at the bottom who seemed to have nothing compared to his pseudonyms. 

“I guess I’m just curious as to why you decided to be yourself that night.” 

The soft chuckle jarred her, the smile reaching his eyes first as he seemed to relax for a second. “‘Cause you were a pretty woman standin’ on the other side of that bar.” Each word settled along her lips as though they were her own. “Figured if I wasn’t plannin’ on seein’ those honey eyes again, I might as well throw some caution to the wind.” 

“Do you regret it?” 

He wasn’t planning on staying, on seeing her again, and yet he still came back over and over again until four years passed them by, before he disappeared for Rapture. 4 years and she didn’t even know about Gorland, didn’t know he had aliases. She knew his “business trips” were rather interesting and dubious, but never had a reason to question them, not when he had been so good to her over those years. He never gave her a reason to not trust him. 

She watched his eyes flicker for a second, “No.” Standing straight again, he huffed. “Fontaine’s credibility takes a bit of a beatin’ but - it’s nice to drop it from time to time.” 

“So, why do you do what you do?” She really couldn’t help as this question slipped past on a whim. “All these characters, the cons, the scams, the lies?” 

The smirk he gave her then was near-minacious, almost daring her to remain curious as his gaze dropped down to her knees crossed as she sat on his desk. Getting the hint, she uncrossed her legs, knees spreading as far as her pencil skirt allowed before he stepped between them. 

“Why do you wanna know?” 

His tone was low and rough, sandpaper scratching a gritty surface with eyes cold, raking an icy finger up her spine. Frank slipped his hands from his pockets to place on the desk outside of her hips, encasing her as he leaned forward and into her space. And yet, she didn’t back away, remaining fairly still and confident. 

“I - I guess since I know it’s you, why not?” Jane swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling flushed from her face to her chest; she almost hated how his proximity still made her act like a blushing schoolgirl. “So you don’t feel like you have to hide anything from me.” 

Raising a hand, she slid her palm up to cradle his jaw. Thumbing over his lips, his mustache tickling her skin, as if she were taming a beast; calming the surfacing monster he wore like camouflage. And her next inhale stuttered a bit as his mouth drifted closer to hers. 

She’s never given him a reason to not trust her. 

“You wanna know the truth, huh?” A nod. “You wanna know the truth behind the pathetic kid whose old man dumped him off at an orphanage without as much as a goodbye?” 

Tilting away from her, Jane felt all the color drain from her face in disbelief, wide eyes looking up at him as he stepped away from her. Of all the puzzle pieces of his past she had only dreamt of knowing, never would she have thought this piece to be so…sad. 

“It’s a tear-jerker, I know.” His hands found their way back into his pants pockets, strolling over toward the floor-to-ceiling windows behind his desk. “An’ I’ve resented that bastard, ‘til I realized one good thing came from that orphanage.” 

Jane slid from the desk, toeing carefully to stand beside him in front of the window as he gazed out over the drop-off the Futuristics sat along on the sea floor, a dark abyss starting back. She glanced over at him, watching the way his spine stiffened at the memories. 

“What was that?” 

Her heart fluttered at the playful smile lining his lips. “Acting.” 

And yet, the pieces still fit together, completing a more finished picture that she was able to observe and understand better. 

“They had us do all these different chores growin’ up, but the older kids could start workin’, doin’ things around the town that the orphanage was involved in.” The next scoff to puff past his lips fogged the glass in front of him. “I took a job at a local theater, thought it would be easy money doin’ the least work. But, while I was workin’ there, I couldn’t help but notice all the other kids on stage.” He hummed to himself as if reliving the events first-hand. “There was this one scraggly kid, kinda quiet, was always picked on; an’ this kid on stage could change his personality -” Frank snapped his fingers then, the sound echoing sharply around them. “Just like that. An’ I was fascinated with it.” 

Jane’s attention had been going back and forth between the ocean out in front of them and Frank by her side. Eventually, she settled on him, listening intently. 

“Eventually, after watchin’ the kids for so long, I kinda wanted to try it out for myself - become a whole different person who wasn’t weak, hadn’t been abandoned by his old man…” She watched his reflection through the window, staring out at the ocean but gaze vacant and unseeing, “Was able to scam some guys out on the streets, actin’ like I was a poor homeless kid who was definitely not from the orphanage. Made a good few bucks an’ ended up takin’ these little acts further an’ further each time, even after runnin’ away.” 

Until Fontaine. Would there be someone else even after this? Another handle?  

“Is it all worth it?”

He met her eyes through the window’s reflection first, his hesitation speaking much louder than words ever could. 

“It has to be.” Turning fully towards her now, he leaned to rest a shoulder against the window with arms crossing. “These cons have always provided me with somethin’ that seemed unattainable as a kid. Success, wealth, women hangin’ from my arm, people to bend an’ control.” 

A purpose.  

“Make somethin’ like havin’ a father who never loved ‘im seem insignificant.” 

She couldn’t help but catch the subtle change to his tone, turning solemn and nostalgic the further he seemed to dig deeper into his past. Remembering the few moments on the surface, she could see now that drive to make something of himself, to prove he had a purpose by using facades like Fontaine. 

It was captivating but unfortunate. 

Knowing any sort of action to have a more profound effect than anything she could say to him right now, she took those few steps forward into his space. He raised a brow at her as she lifted and maneuvered his arms to slip hers underneath, hooking around his back, she rested her head along his chest with a sigh. 

“I’m sorry I made reviewing the Industries’ ads a therapy session.” 

The chuckle bubbled from his chest, vibrating under her ear before he wound his arms around her as well. “Think I’m gonna need to see Lamb after reviewin’ those fuckin’ ads regardless.” 

Jane couldn’t stop the giggle, lifting her head to come nose-to-nose with him as he nuzzled her cheek. 

“I can make it up to you tonight, if you’d like.” 

That seemed to have shifted his thinking, his palms sliding lower down her back. “You don’t gotta ask me twice, sweetheart.” And his lips descended to find her own in a gentle but quick kiss. 

Before he could steal her lips once more, the doors to his office slid open with the sound startling them. Even with how far they were from the door, Jane still couldn’t help but jump away first; worried it could have been anyone entering Fontaine’s office. Relief washed over them once seeing it was only Reggie. 

“Sorry to bother you both, but we’ve got a problem.” 

Frank had strolled over to his desk, rather relaxed seeing it was just Reggie but Jane saw his shoulders square immediately after the threat of bad news. 

“Better be a big deal if you’re willin’ to just walk in here like you own the place.” 

Reggie stopped just a few feet from them, a thumb pointing back towards the doors with his brows knit “I - I did knock.” 

The chuckle was light as Jane took a few steps towards the man, drawing attention to what looked like a rolled-up blueprint in Reggie’s hand. 

“You’re ok, Reggie. What do you have there?”

“Oh, yes -” The man perked up and side-stepped towards the table that housed all the leftover Elixer ads, unrolling the blueprint to lay it out overtop. “I’ve finally got the plans for the Industries’ system we’re rentin’, but - it’s a bit smaller than what we were promised.” 

Jane’s brows knit immediately, pacing close to take a look at the blueprints with a sinking feeling weighing on her gut. Reggie was right, these plans were - horrendously small compared to the unused magma system Ryan was promising the Futuristics. These blueprints weren’t even officially labeled either, with nothing on them suggesting they even belonged to Fontaine or the Futuristics. Frank had stepped up behind her at some point with an equally confused hum as he looked over the dimensions. 

“What the hell?” Frank ran a finger over the few details there were about the system. “There’s nothin’ on here even sayin’ this thing’s for us.” 

“See, I was a bit confused lookin’ at that as well.” Reggie spoke from across the table, “But, I wanted to bring it to you two first before assumin’ anything.” 

Something smelled fishy, “Ryan had to have done this on purpose.” Jane piped up between the small talk Frank was having with Reggie on where exactly he picked the blueprints up from. “The man’s too professional and intentional to mix up these plans, especially with how detailed we were when setting all this up.” 

“So what, do you expect maybe Ryan was thinkin’ of gettin’ Fontaine to come stompin’ in - bargain with him to get the real plans?” 

She wouldn’t put it past him. “I think that’s exactly what he’s doing.” Jane took a few steps back with her arms crossed. “Ryan was rather mum to the pricing of the system when I had asked him about it during the big meeting. Maybe he intends to ask for more to rent the system in exchange for the real plans.”

Frank snarled, stepping away from the table to pace over towards his desk. Jane could practically feel the white-hot anger radiate from the man as he slammed his fist onto the oak furniture, the sound causing both her and Reggie to flinch. 

“I ain’t givin’ Ryan scratch, especially if he wants to pull this shit.” 

Maybe he doesn’t have to. 

“What if I went to talk to him?” The room fell silent with both men turning to look at Jane. “I mean, he’s probably expecting Fontaine. But, what if I went to talk to him? Someone probably less hostile and someone he really can’t bargain with, finance-wise.” 

“No.” His answer was instant. “I ain’t lettin’ you talk to Ryan by yourself. Hell knows what he’ll try to pull when he’s got you alone.” 

He almost gave her whiplash with how quickly he dawned the Fontaine facade. 

“What if I went with her?” Reggie spoke up as well. “I doubt Mr. Ryan would pressure Jane to do anything with Fontaine’s bodyguard there.” 

Jane nodded in agreement. “It’s worth a shot.”

His hesitation was palpable, anger still evident along his face as she watched him sift through his thoughts. At this point, what choice did they have? The longer they waited, the more this would set back the project's final start date. And by now, Jane had counted about several dozen seaweed containers ready to be dumped into this new energy system to be released throughout Rapture, powering homes, stores, electronics, signs, you name it. 

“Fine. But the second things go south, Reggie you let me know.” 

The man gave a reassuring nod as Jane attempted to hide a smirk behind a subtle cough. She could most likely handle Ryan on her own, knowing the man to not be particularly dangerous - rather tame compared to Fontaine anyway. But, she knew where Frank’s concerns lay. Ryan was cunning and persuasive in his own right; and if she wasn’t careful, she could get the Futuristics into trouble. Could get herself into trouble. 

But, a pretty, innocent face like hers would at least guarantee a more gentle conversation, one that would hopefully persuade Ryan enough to give her the real plans. 

How hard could it be? 

~

The next morning, Frank had suggested forgoing setting up a time with Ryan’s secretary and try, instead, to show up with a demand to talk to the man then and there. While she was still keen on the tender approach, he was right in that it would get her an audience right away. She hoped her, albeit fake, name would ensure a pleasant surprise and Ryan would want to talk to her regardless of appointments and scheduled meetings. 

Straightening out her skirt and blouse ensemble, picking out a more nautical color palette, she couldn’t help but snag Frank’s gaze through the mirror behind her. Doing up his tie before heading down to the Futuristics, she watched him approach with eyes scanning her from her heels to her curled hair. 

“You know, you’re not makin’ things easier for me; dressin’ up like that to see Ryan.” 

Oh yes, she was very aware. “That’s the point.” Jane reached to straighten out his vest. “My full intentions were to go in there with a pretty smile, some extra cleavage, and a few bats to my eyelashes to persuade him enough for the plans.” 

Frank scoffed and she patted his tie once fixing the vest’s buttons. 

“You have to admit, it’s better than a few extra thousand dollars on the Futuristics’ end.” 

As he remained rather quiet, the sigh to heave his chest was telling enough that he agreed. However, he couldn’t help but smirk at her apparent plan to seduce Andrew Ryan. 

“Looks like I might be rubbin’ off on you a bit. Gotta scheme an’ everythin’ for Ryan.” 

Jane had stepped away from him with a roll of her eyes to her vanity where she was deciding on two different necklaces to pair with her earrings. 

“Oh yes, you’re a horrible influence, Frank.” Her attention then caught the glint of sapphire sitting in her jewelry case. 

Almost every day she took to wearing the ring, a reminder if anything, of the promise to her. Debating with herself on whether she should even wear it today while visiting Ryan, a sudden thought was nagging at her in the back of her mind - telling her to wear it anyway. It might come in handy. 

So, she did. Pairing it with a matching necklace Frank had also gotten her for Christmas, he helped to put it on but not without a glance as well towards the ring now sparkling on her hand. 

“What are you gonna do if he starts askin’ about that?” 

Jane shrugged, fixing her hair a bit. “I’ll figure something out. Just tell him it’s a matching set or something. That I hate wearing rings on my right hand.” She glanced over towards him while grabbing for her purse and the fake plans. 

He ducked his head for a second to hide the smile, moving closer to grab for her and placing a series of kisses along the corner of her mouth. He wanted desperately to muse the red lipstick but knew she’d curse him to hell and back if she had to redo any of her makeup. 

“Don’t worry, Frank. I’ve got this under control, I promise.” Her words were whispered, a soft breath within the shrinking space between them. 

“I’m not too worried ‘bout you.” Frank huffed. “More worried ‘bout Ryan, that bastard’s almost worse than me when it comes to fightin’ for what he wants.” 

She raised a hand to cradle his jaw, no longer feeling any scruff along his skin but the smell of aftershave pricked her nose and confirmed why. 

“Then I’ll just have to make it clear to him that I’m not his to take.” 

In one way or another. 

~

No matter how much Reggie talked about Hephaestus, on the multiple occasions he’s visited with Fontaine to see Ryan, nothing could prepare her for the world seemingly separate from the rest of the city. The intricate weaving of transparent pipes ran along the ocean floor with magma flowing rather rapidly through them and turning the waters a slimy orange. Natural debris sprinkled the water column like snow as she pressed herself against the largest window of the sub to try and see if there were any signs of life this deep. Excitement thrummed through her once spotting a few fish and crustacean species around the piping. Plenty of sea stars also stuck to the transparent glass, as they did with almost every window in Rapture. She wondered if the ADAM slugs could also potentially be found down here as well. 

As they came upon the docking station, she marveled at the giant spinning mechanisms and gears pumping the magma from the earth and through the piping. Bubbles and steam blurring the waters near natural hydrothermal vents. It was all certainly a spectacle, an insight into the inner workings of an underwater city. And she was still only seeing the core from the outside. 

Stepping from the bathysphere confirmed her assumption about the grandeur of Hephaestus. The constant hissing of steam, echoing clanking of moving parts, and whirring beeps from various machinery were all an overwhelming experience. But, she took to following closely behind Reggie as the man certainly knew the way to Ryan’s office better than she could ever hope to know. Maneuvering the maze of Hephaestus workshops and control centers, she certainly had plenty to look at and observe while clutching the rolled-up blueprints tight in her grasp. 

The closer they got to Ryan’s office, the more she noticed the obvious signs pointing the way, but knowing she’d get lost before even finding the fist sign telling her where the hell she was. Finally, they were approaching an opening beyond a web of hallways and Jane scowled to herself once noticing the twinge in her feet. Cursing at herself for wearing heels today, she hadn’t even had a second thought about how much walking they’d potentially be doing. Did Ryan have to navigate three miles of hallways just to get to his office? 

The large open space housed a bust of the big man himself with another bronze statue of his infamous “great chain” metaphor displayed physically with a muscular arm pulling at a taut chain. The piece, seen almost everywhere in Rapture, hung right above Ryan’s head with a more modest “Office of Andrew Ryan” sign glowing green just beyond either artwork. They climbed a few stairs to the front doors only to be met with a receptionist's desk on the other side, a dainty blonde woman sitting under another large Ryan Industries plaque that very much overshadowed her in the narrowed space. The woman greeted them with a pearly smile, pausing her typing and pulling a sheet she had been working on from the typewriter. 

“Good morning, welcome to Ryan Industries, how can I help you?” 

Jane side-eyed Reggie, wondering if this woman was familiar with the man or not. Unless Fontaine used a special back entrance into Ryan’s office. 

“I’m here to speak to Mr. Ryan.” She returned the smile, clearing her throat a bit to keep the anxiety from crackling her voice. 

“Name, please.” 

“Jane -” She hesitated. “Jane Hartley.” 

Half expecting the women to turn them away for not having a scheduled appointment, she instead looked up to her from what appeared to be an incredibly organized planner. 

“Hartley, you said?” 

Jane confirmed as the woman reached to pick up her desk phone, dialing a few digits before asking, “Mr. Ryan? Yes, I have a Miss Jane Hartley here to see you…mhm…no she’s not but - ok…alright, thank you.” 

Returning the phone to its receiver, she nodded to Jane with a forced smile. “Ryan is ready to see you.” The woman reached for a button on the underside of her desk, and the doors just to her right slid open with ease. “You’ll want to keep following the hallways straight until you reach his office. He should be there waiting.” 

Jane listened and took a breath before stepping through that threshold, but as Reggie also started following her, the woman spoke up from her desk. “Ah, sir - my apologies, but Mr. Ryan had requested that just Miss Hartley enter his office.” 

Reggie gave a quizzical glance towards Jane, brows creasing in a slight panic. 

“It’s alright, Reggie.” Jane gave a pained half-smile herself. “I’ll be out in a bit.” 

A slight nod, and he turned to maybe try and find a seat somewhere while she spun back to the doors, finally pushing through her apprehension. Once she was through, they shuttered closed behind her and left her standing in another hallway that seemed eerily quiet compared to the rest of the core that clanked and hummed with constant activity. 

Toeing carefully down the series of twists and turns, she kept repeating to herself that she need only go straight, winding with the hallway and appreciating the decor along the way. A gilded pattern in that wonderful Art Deco style decorated the floor’s tiles, the walls a beautiful dark wooden finish with more flashes of gold catching the lamps that speckled the space. There weren’t many windows, as she recognized eventually, and her heels echoed along the tiles as she eventually made her way to a transparent door, catching Ryan at his desk just on the other side.

Seeing him both relieved and unsettled her, as if she were in the belly of the beast with a monster stalking its core. 

He must have noticed her only a few seconds after, lifting himself from his desk and pacing towards the doors with a slight bounce to his step. The door slid up with Ryan holding his arm out to welcome her in. 

“Miss Hartley, what a pleasant surprise!” His hand ghosted across the back of her shoulder to show her through. “Come in, come in. I was not expecting such an honored visit today, could I offer you something to drink?” 

Jane had to remember to straighten her spine, “Oh, no thank you, Mr. Ryan. I was hoping to be quick and not take up too much of your time. It’d be foolish of me to assume you’re not a busy man.” 

“Nonsense.” Ryan gave her a smile, his mustache lifting with the action as he made his way over to a small bar to pour himself a drink. “As a business partner, I would never consider your company as wasting my time. What can I help you with, my dear?” 

Letting the appellation roll off her shoulders, Jane was quick to lift the blueprint clutched in her hand. 

“We received these plans just the other day - for the energy distribution system we’re to be renting from the Industries? And we couldn’t help but notice how the dimensions for the system are a bit…um - smaller than we were told.” 

Ryan strode back over to her with brows angled, setting his drink aside to take the blueprints she was offering out to him. He unrolled them, dark eyes darting around the plans with a slow nod and low hums to confirm what she and Fontaine had been given. 

“I see, these do indeed appear to be the wrong plans.” Rolling them back up, he handed them to Jane with his drink to occupy his hand again. “However, this was a mistake I was hoping to resolve, instead, with Fontaine. Not that your company isn’t welcomed, Miss Hartley. It’s a pleasure, really.” 

She stiffened, stomach-churning at his words. And while she very well knew this was probably going to be the case, the sting didn’t hurt any less knowing he might not help her because she wasn’t the person he wanted to speak to. This was her project anyway, her ideas and research. Her ADAM elixir that could change the trajectory of Rapture’s energy consumption. Fontaine was just paying for it. 

Ryan had turned back to her after a few seconds of silence, taking a sip of the deep caramel-colored liquid. “You see, Miss Hartley, Fontaine’s been rather…difficult with agreeing to pay the full amount we had originally agreed to rent the energy system promised to the Futuristics and for your project. I had hoped to resolve this with him and then provide the official plans after reaching an agreement.” 

Fat chance, she thought. 

Not wanting to be too biased, she’s sneaked a peek at the finances after the big meeting for this project and found a form where the Futuristics agreed to pay a set amount offered by the Industries. Frank had ranted to her last night about how Ryan kept changing the price, mostly increasing it after finding mundane things to add to the overall final cost. Maintenance, labor, elixir transportation, insurance for the transportation, elixir storage, downtime, running time, and everything in between. Most of the costs made sense until she spotted a few fees that included tour groups visiting the core. She could see then Fontaine’s frustration for Ryan trying to squeeze every unnecessary buck he could out of the tycoon. 

Jane puffed her chest a little, eyes dropping down to make sure the extra button she had undone on her blouse again was obvious. 

“Mr. Ryan, certainly there’s something I can agree to on Fontaine’s behalf while I’m here now?” She sauntered up to where he was leaning against his desk, hips swaying with his gaze trailing lazily with her motions. “I fear if we wait any longer with this project -” 

She stopped as he waved a dismissive hand toward her while taking another sip. “Now, Miss Hartley, I understand your hast to get the ball rolling on all of this,” He was suddenly quiet for a second, lips slightly pursed in thought. “However -” 

Ryan set his drink down next to what she noticed as another set of rolled plans. “Perhaps there is something I could ask of you.” 

The dip in his tone spelled trouble, alarm bells going off in her head as he lifted himself to start circling her like a feline going in for its prey. As he spoke, she could smell the faint hazelnut notes from the alcohol sitting on his breath, Ryan leaning in close to mutter. 

“I was gifted a couple of tickets to an upcoming performance at the Fleet Hall, one of Cohen’s most recent works. In exchange for the correct plans, you could join me for a night in Fort Frolic. Dinner? The show?” 

His words sat like a lead-bearing in her stomach, panic starting to slowly worm its way through her as a flush scorched her face. The one promise she made to Frank was that she make no deals with Ryan. She could flirt her way as much as she wanted, but not take up any offers that involved money or herself. 

And this, it sounded uncomfortably close to a date. 

“Of course, consider it a sort of business invitation. I can’t imagine Fontaine would be so…lenient with such plans taken in any fashion outside of business.” 

Would it stay that way though?

Her mind was racing with the proposition, trying to figure out how to politely decline such a request without jeopardizing her chance at obtaining the correct plans. And just when her hesitation and silence seemed to drag on a bit too long, Ryan waiting patiently for an answer, she felt the prominent weight tug along her left hand. She glanced down at the sapphire catching the light, sparkling and an idea flickered. It might come in handy.

“Oh, Mr. Ryan, I do appreciate the offer.” She did her best to feign a sense of disappointment. “However, business or otherwise, I doubt it’ll be appropriate for an engaged woman to venture out to a place like Fort Frolic alone with another man. 

Ryan’s face went through almost a dozen different expressions before landing on astonishment. Of course, his gaze zipped down to confirm the ring on her left hand, lifting back up while barely biting back a smirk. 

 “Well look at that.” The smirk melted into a smile that was far beyond pleasant. “Who is the lucky man, may I ask?” 

About a million names started clogging up her mind, and yet loose lips couldn’t keep the most damning one from slipping. 

“Fontaine.” 

Her teeth clicked as she shut her mouth immediately, a sudden tight grin causing her cheeks to ache. 

Oh shit. She didn’t mean - 

“I’ll be damned.” Ryan nodded with that look still plastered on his face as he paced back over to the bar for a refill. “I didn’t think the man had it in him. I’ll say, I’m quite surprised. Shocked, even.” 

So was she. 

He took a sip from his glass, clearing his throat after. “I’m assuming this is why I didn’t see either of you at the New Year’s party?” 

Sure. 

Jane nodded, trying to desperately mask the panic with a smile of her own. And yet, Ryan still had his attention on her, as if he was trying to peel apart every chipping of paint from that mask. She honestly couldn’t tell if he believed her or not. His silence had her very much in the dark, watching the gears spine and turn but not knowing if he’d take the bait. Something sparked on his face then, as if he was getting pulled too deep in his thoughts for a few seconds. 

“Well, then I’ll retract my invitation as I agree, it would be inappropriate for a recently engaged woman to spend an evening with myself.” Jane watched with razor-sharp attention as he lifted the almost identical roll of blueprints to the one she had currently in a death grip. “And I’ve taken you for a rather traditional woman, Jane, since the first time we met at the Cocktail Lounge. As a business partner, I only wish to respect your values. This is Rapture after all.” 

That meant he had every right to deny her values as well, but he wasn’t - even if they were just made up on the spot. 

“Which is why I have no grievance in giving you this.” He held out the roll to her, “The real plans for the Industries’ vacant energy system.” 

A skeptical hand reached out to take the plans from him, but his grip was tight on the roll for a second as she tugged. “Consider this…an early wedding gift.” 

The wink was subtle as he let go, her breakfast sitting heavy in her stomach and she swallowed hard. And yet, she kept her exterior hard, unwavering, and just a tad perplexed he’d give her the plans so easily. Ryan seemed to brush it off, playing the martyr no doubt as Jane grasped the plans tight. 

“I - thank you, Mr. Ryan.” She mustered, “This means a lot to me, with how close this project is to being a reality.” And she honestly meant it. 

“Of course, not a problem at all.” She felt his hand reach to guide her back towards the front of his office. “If there’s anything else you need - don’t hesitate to ask, Miss Hartley.” 

Just as she was about to step through that threshold and back down the series of hallways, Ryan stopped again to give a slight wave. “Oh, and please extend my congratulations to Fontaine as well.” 

The flush returned to her face, answering with a nod and final wave as well before ducking away quickly to hide the potential reddening to her cheeks and to make her way back down the twisting hallway to Reggie. 

What the fuck did she just do?

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

“You did what?”  

The distant gurgling of bubbles filled the space for the few seconds Jane took to sift through her thoughts. Rather blurting out what had happened at the Industries and clicking her jaw shut after. However, his question only elicited another groan, rolling her head back to look at the ceiling, and scrunching her eyes shut. 

“Frank, please don’t make me repeat it.” She balled her hands into fists by her sides, teeth mercilessly chewed on the inside of her cheek as he said nothing. “I panicked, ok. I didn’t know what else to do, or what to say. He was essentially inviting me to join him for a date out at Fort Frolic - alone.” 

His silence forced her head to swivel back down with blurry eyes focusing on Frank who sat at his desk. Hands were drawn up and folded for him to rest his chin on as Jane watched his brow crease. 

“An’ you didn’t think that maybe sayin’ yes meant I could have still gone with you?” 

Her stomach sank, cheeks flaring as anger bubbled in her chest, sputtering. “I - I didn’t know! I panicked, ok!” Throwing her hands up from her sides, her tongue tripped over her words with each thought leaving far too hastily. “I didn’t want to - to offend the man or anything. Didn’t want to jeopardize any chance I had - or the plans! I didn’t want to say yes! Who knows what else could have happened while I was there in his office alone.”  

Frank’s face twisted in realization. “Reggie wasn’t with you?” She could hear it too, that slight edge to his voice that was a borderline growl. 

Both their heads immediately turned to Reggie who stood off to the side, already rummaging around in the liquor cabinet Frank had in his office and he paused to shrug. 

“Nancy wouldn’t let me go in with her. I mean, I trusted Jane ‘nough. She was in an’ out pretty quick.” 

Jane raised her hands again to emphasize Reggie’s point, wide eyes back on Frank. 

“And I did get the plans, mind you.” She nodded towards the real blueprints now unrolled along his desk. “It honestly wasn’t too hard after - lying to him.” 

The hum was faint as steel-gray eyes zipped back down to the plans laid out in front of him before turning back to her. 

“He just gave ‘em to you?” 

Standing rather abruptly then, he rounded the desk with hands in his pockets, attention still darting around the plans as if to convince himself these couldn’t be real. Ryan had to have some trick up his sleeve, some other bargaining tactic that followed this. The man wasn’t that naive. 

Jane piped up from her spot, still standing with feet together in the same position in front of his desk. “He did. Said it was an “early wedding present” and he just…gave it to me, nothing else.” 

His glance was a tad incredulous, but inviting enough for her to step closer to his desk, wanting to get a peek at the plans as well. Too panicked to unroll them at the time, Jane didn’t even stop to check if they were real as she almost ran out his office doors. Reggie had to fast walk to keep up with her back through the maze of hallways to the bathysphere station. At one point, she didn’t even know where she was going or why she wasn’t letting Reggie lead the way back. If anything, she just desperately wanted to get out of there, spitting back towards the man that she’d tell him what was going on once they were in the privacy of the sphere. 

Needless to say, Reggie didn’t take her little deception to be as dramatic as she was making it out to be. Her confession met with a laugh and a shake of his head as he muttered. “Frank’s gonna like this.” 

She wasn’t sure if that remark had made her feel better or worse, hands gripping the obtained plans to the point where she wrinkled the paper a decent bit as they made their way back to the Futuristics. 

Looking at the plans now, she could make out the distinctive embellished emblem of the Industries embossed on the top left corner of the blueprint. The Futuristics logo was also seen along the bottom right as well, branding Frank’s name and her own as well as the official name of the project “ADAM Energy Elixir: Hephaestus Distributor”. The dimensions were certainly larger as well with more details marking where the distributor was in Hephaestus - near the core - and where the piping system would travel out from the source.

The sigh of relief cooled the building embarrassment from her incident with Ryan. A deep exhale deflated her chest to know that her lying wasn’t for naught, and Ryan had indeed kept his end of the brief deal. Now, she supposed, it was just a matter of what the hell they were going to do with another rumor likely to spread throughout Rapture like wildfire. With Ryan as a source, she’d bet the entire city would know by tomorrow evening. 

Standing on her toes a bit to see over his desk that sat on a slight platform, she tilted her head once hearing the faint hum from Frank by her side. 

“You know, I kinda see an opportunity here.” He gave her a smug side glance and she met him with brows furrowed, pleading for an answer to her unspoken question. “An opportunity for a distraction.” 

The confusion evident along her features only encouraged his train of thought as she asked. “A distraction? From what, or - who, I guess?” 

Frank started moving again, pacing over to the long side table next to his desk to grab the morning’s copy of the paper. “The Rapture Tribune.” 

Holding out the front page to them, Jane read over a familiar headline, the last in a line of articles about her upcoming project. “Ok,” She gave a weak smile. “The Tribune - using it as a distraction…how?” 

Clearly, she wasn’t following along as easily as he had probably hoped, and with a click of his tongue, he paced back over to her. 

“Sullivan’s been tryin’ his damnest lately at gettin’ an article to the Tribune ‘bout my supposed smugglin’ ring.” He slapped the paper on his desk next to the plans. “But, they’ve been so busy writin’ ‘bout your project, Jane, he’s been rejected multiple times.” 

A scoff echoed from the other side of the room from Reggie who had found a seat opposite Frank’s desk, and an empty glass to pour himself what he grabbed from the cabinet. 

“What, is he tryin’ to get a front-page article or somethin’?” 

“Yep, but since they’re runnin’ out of articles on this project ‘till it’s finally in full swing, they’ve got no choice but to eventually say yes to ‘im.” 

Jane started chewing on her lower lip, almost tearing the poor thing to shreds once she started putting two and two together, certainly not liking the final picture. 

“So, you’re saying - that this alleged “engagement” could continue to take over the front page? Take away Sullivan’s chances at exposing you and the smuggling ring?” 

The smile he gave her this time was soft, “That’s exactly what I’m sayin’.” He held out a hand to her then, hoisting her up onto the platform and next to his desk until she had both hands steady along the oak corners, one of his own hands holding her waist. “An’ I can bet Ryan’s makin’ a call right now to the Tribune to spread the news, get it plastered all over Rapture as soon as they’ll let ‘im.”

The embellished logo for the Industries shone a bit in the light, now that she was looking down upon it. Able to make out each marking and note better and her chest clenched once realizing that she was finally looking at her future, head-on. 

Still, “And this isn’t bothering you?” Jane cleared her throat and turned to the man over her shoulder. “I mean, it could do something to Fontaine’s reputation, his image, right?” 

The shrug in response was rather nonchalant as he leaned in close behind her, his other hand finding her waist as he practically whispered along the shell of her ear. 

“Way I see it, wouldn’t be anythin’ damning. Got one of the “most feared men in Rapture” showin’ off somethin’ legit even Ryan ain’t got. People are suckers for that kinda shit.” The smile to lift his lips then was coy and she felt the movement against the sensitive spot just behind her ear, “Besides, might give you some special treatment ‘round here as well.” 

This was all a whirlwind, the headache starting to bloom along her temples with the hair on the back of her neck standing on end at his words.

“Special treatment?” What more could Rapture possibly give her, she wondered. 

“You know,” His palms slid up and down against the fabric of her blouse, “Priority reservations at restaurants, get automatically added to lists for events, special discounts at shops.” The chuckle rumbling from his chest settled in her pelvis. “Lottie likes givin’ me discounts each time I pick up a new suit or dress for you.”

Nothing she wasn’t expecting, knowing once this elixir project goes into full swing, she’ll certainly find herself in a whole new light and crowd of Rapture - if it’s successful. But to put herself out there with Fontaine that wasn’t just a business partnership? To extend the talk of these rumors out from the Futuristics and gala to the rest of Rapture with a studded ring on her finger to solidify the assumptions? 

It was all rather…tempting. Wanting to see how far this illusion could be stretched for her gain.

“And that’s just with having any involvement with Fontaine?” She wanted to hear him say it. 

Frank’s arms shifted with another slight shrug, his palms a solid weight along her hips now. “Well, not just any regular involvement, like a business partner or anythin’. I mean…as my fiancée, suppose that gives you an extra special somethin’ ‘round Rapture, huh?” 

The words tickled her skin, pricking along her arms and raising the hair there as she drew in on herself. Fiancée. And yet, she slumped her head back against his shoulder. “I - I can’t believe I did that, that out of every possible lie I could have told to Ryan, every excuse - I went with that.”

“Not the worst you coulda done.” She attempted to look up at him with a slight pout. “Seems like it’s ‘bout time I started teachin’ you tricks on holdin’ your own con.” 

Jane pulled herself away from him and turned, “My own - no…” But he was quicker, managing to still trap her with his arms as he caged her between himself and the desk. “Frank, I’m not like you, ok? I don’t…lie to people like that.” 

The smirk was slow to crawl along his features as he leaned in slightly. “Really? Miss Hartley?”  

Her eyes narrowed, crossing her arms with a defiant huff. “That doesn’t count, you gave Ryan that last name. I have no choice but to just go with it.” 

“But you’re still goin’ with it, arn’tcha?” Jane stood her ground as he leaned forward, nose brushing against her own as he muttered. “Lyin’ ‘bout who you are, lyin’ ‘bout our relationship. Doesn’t help when you act like you do sometimes in public.” 

The scoff puffed past her lips onto his own. “Like what? 

“Oh, I don’t know - the gala?” His hands shuffled closer to each other on the desk, suffocating her limited space. “The meetin’ with the Industries? Not really helpin’ your case on tryin’ not to have any involvement with Fontaine, if that was your original intention.” 

Jane looked over her shoulder to Reggie who remained in the seat, taking a drink with a brow raised towards her with a copy of the Tribune in his lap. A curious smile lifted his lips at the mention of the gala, however, and she had to search her memory for a second. Was Reggie aware of what happened that night? Did Frank tell him at all? Apparently so if he was sitting there as if he was watching one of his favorite daytime dramas between reading the paper. 

“Why on earth would that have been my original intention when I’ve been stuck with you ever since you found out I was living in my lab?” She didn’t mean for her words to have the bite to them that they had. If anything she wanted to make a point that he started all of this.

“You also said yes to my offer at stayin’ with me.” His voice dipped, “You could have easily said no.”

Jane scoffed, “And be homeless? Take up residence in your poor house? No, thank you.” 

He leveled her with a heated gaze, eyes darting down to her lips and back and she felt a twisting in her gut at his proximity. Keenly aware that Reggie was in the room just behind them, she had to also remember the countless times he’s been the unfortunate third wheel up on the surface. This was probably nothing new for the man. It still didn’t deter Frank from barely brushing his lips against her own before removing himself completely, the ghostly chill from his departing presence shook her shoulders slightly as he stepped back with a smirk.

“Then, it’s settled. We’ve got the plans, all we gotta do now is hype up your lie to the public an’ get the attention of the Tribune whenever we can.” 

Taking a deep breath, Jane lifted a hand to her chest to steady the rapid pounding of her heart as she mumbled. “Please - stop calling it a lie.” 

Fank paced back to his desk to rummage around for a cigarette in one of the top drawers, coming up with two and handing one to her, which she respectfully declined - for now at least. 

“Well, that’s what it is, right?” He gave her a subtle wink, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag before shrugging. “Unless con or somethin’ else soothes your soul better. I guess then you gotta admit that’s what this is.” 

She really couldn’t argue it was anything less than that, without lying to herself anyway. Turning back around to glance over the plans again, Jane exhaled a long breath before nodding along. 

“Alright. We’ll go along with this.” She lifted her head in time to watch the smile life his lips. “Only if you promise me you’ve got this con, or whatever it is, all under control.” 

He lifted a hand to rest over his heart, the plumes of silver smoke trialing up towards the ceiling. 

“I swear, future Mrs. Fontaine.” 

God. She’d slap him, honestly, if he wasn’t standing so far away. 

~*~

A fiancée? No - a weakness. 

Ryan couldn’t stop the rut he was running into his floor, pacing back and forth with attention glancing now and then to the fake plans Jane had left on his desk. 

After getting over his initial surprise, he couldn’t help but feel the news seemed rather…convenient. Not knowing very much about Jane’s past, where she came from, or even when she entered Rapture. It was something he assumed about her to have only known Fontaine for as long as she’s been employed at the Futuristics. Which, honestly didn’t appear to be all that long. 

So, why the sudden engagement? 

He could argue with himself that he wasn’t the most devoted man, knowing Miss Jolene’s dressing room like the back of his hand with his own loosely coined fiancée, Diane waiting for him after a “long evening at the office”. Both very well knew the truth, and he did very little to disguise it - but this was Rapture.

However, also knowing a man like Fontaine - Ryan assumed he was much like himself. His wealth, power, and strong disposition almost certainly luring a new woman to his complex every night, if he so desired. 

But still, why so sudden? Why so soon after having known this woman a little less than a year? Why, when they were within weeks of starting up this project that could very well skyrocket the Futuristics’ profits? 

A knock rapping on the glass door to his office broke him out of his trance, Ryan looked up to see the scraggly man on the other side waving rather enthusiastically to him. Taking a breath, he paced over to open the door and welcomed him through. 

“Mr. Poole, thank you for coming on such short notice.” 

“Ah, no problem at all, Mr. Ryan.” The reporter strolled through like he owned the place with the distinct scent of alcohol sticking to his clothes. “Lucky for you, I was the only one available an’ on call for today. Can’t tell ya how many people are out on vacation at Arcadia or Dionysus Park.” 

Yes…lucky him. 

“You must love your job then, Mr. Poole. Would you like something to drink?” Already on his way over to the bar to refill his own glass, he assumed the man to have already partook in a bottle or two before venturing over here. Yet, Stanley still said yes and Ryan hoped it would help to ease the tension in the room ever since Jane left rather swiftly earlier. 

Stanley busied himself with pacing around the space, observing every little painting and trinket as he chattered. “It pays well ‘nough, Mr. Ryan, I’ll tell you that. Get to talk to all the rich an’ important type, an’ get special passes to places like the Fleet Hall an’ whatnot. Not to mention the pretty broads I get to have some exclusive, ahem, one-on-one interview sessions with.” 

“It certainly sounds like it has its perks.” Ryan returned to where Stanley was now hovering over an armchair near his desk, handing a glass off to the reporter. 

“You don’t know the half of it.” Stanley took the drink with a slight tremble to his hand, reclining in the armchair as Ryan took a seat behind his desk. “So, ah - what can I do for you, Mr. Ryan? Got some big Industries somethin’ or other happenin’? ‘Nother party where you’re only invitin’ Rapture’s most elite?” 

Ryan took a sip of his drink before answering, a brow quirked as he watched the reporter set his tattered journal on the arm of the chair. 

“Actually, I have something rather…compelling, for you Mr. Poole.” He set his drink down to fold his hands. “A marriage proposal, for your next riveting story.” 

Stanley sat up suddenly, rather excited, lifting his glass as if to toast. “Aw, a weddin'? Congrats, sir.” 

Ryan held his hand up with a sheepish smile, “Oh no, not me, Mr. Poole. An engagement considering Fontaine.” 

He watched the reporter almost choke on his drink, a coughing fit disrupting anything Stanley was going to potentially say. 

“W-what, Fontaine?” He managed to sputter something between the bourbon invading his windpipe. “Are you - ugh - are you sure we’re - we’re talkin’ ‘bout the same Fontaine here?” His voice cracked between another sudden coughing fit as he sat forward in the armchair. 

“Yes, the one and only.” Ryan stood from his seat then, finding his thoughts to be crowding and curiosity suffocating remaining in one position. He paced a bit behind his desk. “I had an employee of his here just this morning, to retrieve something from me regarding the Elixer project, the same one the Tribune has been writing about?” 

Stanley nodded in confirmation, knowing about the articles, and took another sip of his drink in hopes it would calm the burning itch in the back of his throat. 

“During our conversation, she had declined an invitation of mine to a business dinner, stating then her…engagement to Fontaine.” 

“Does she have a ring?” The reporter huffed, voice still raw as his head followed Ryan like it was on a swivel. 

Ryan paused with the rim of the glass to his lips, “She did. A very basic little thing, almost something a little too modest for someone like Fontaine to have purchased, well with the wealth the man can certainly flaunt at this point.” He grumbled. 

Stanley shrugged, his face lifting with the movement as well. “Maybe that’s just the kinda person she is - what’s her name…Janice? Julie?” 

“Jane.” Ryan corrected. “Miss Jane Hartley.” 

“Hartley?” The reporter chuckled, “Sure we’re talkin’ ‘bout the same people here, chief?” 

The air around them seemed to have taken on a thick and briny weight, silence settling over their heads briefly with the distant clanking of Hephaestus’ core creating a haunting echoing beyond the walls of Ryan’s office. 

“What do you mean?” 

Stanley set his glass down on a nearby coffee table, reaching for his journal to flip through a few pages until settling on one, finger skimming along the chicken scratch of his handwriting. 

“I interviewed her back when she started workin’ at the Futuristics. That little article in the Tribune? I wrote that, an’ her name certainly wasn’t Hartley.” 

The shock pierced his chest, more so than the actual news of her engagement to Fontaine. Ryan strolled rather blindly over towards the chair opposite Stanley, slowly positioning himself on the cushion’s edge. 

“This is…very curious.” Curious because he didn’t remember seeing a last name in the article itself, the block of text so small and seemingly so insignificant that Stanley only referred to the employee by her first name. “When you interviewed her, did you get a last name?” 

“I did.” Stanley looked over his notes again. “The Tribune thought it was a space-filler article, so they didn’t want me to be too involved or technical with it, just get the basics from the Futuristics as a company. Guess I was more drawn to her in the dress she was wearin’ than anythin’ she was goin’ on ‘bout, didn’t understand a goddamn thing -” He rambled as he sorted through the few pages involving her interview. “Ah, there it is - Jane Carter.” 

Carter? Ryan sat further back on the seat’s cushion, his thoughts racing a million miles an hour trying to sort through everything. 

Why did Fontaine give him a different last name for the woman? 

What was he hiding? 

“You ok, Mr. Ryan? Lookin’ a little green ‘round the gills there.” 

He cleared his throat, masking the internal turmoil with a weak smile in the reporter’s direction. 

“Yes, I’m alright, Mr. Poole. Just a little - bewildered.” With this new information, Ryan was more than confident in his next move for the reporter, the reason why he brought him all the way out to Hephaestus in the first place. “I suppose going off of this, I should tell you why I’ve requested your expertise.”

He watched Stanley straighten his posture, face lightening up immediately at Ryan’s words. 

“I would like you to do a story on this, the engagement, and any other information you can scrap together about it.” 

Ryan might as well have declared a second Christmas in January. 

“Yes, sir! Want photos included as well? Any statements from the lucky pair?” 

That incessant energy was starting to thrum through him again, feeling as if every nerve was catching fire and he was quick to stand from the armchair. 

“No statements, I don’t think Fontaine would be too pleased with bombarding Tribune reporters at every hour. Just some photographs and any other information you can find from colleagues who may have known about this engagement.” 

Circling back around to his desk, Ryan ran a few fingers along the fake plans still rolled up, taking space in the center of his work area. Stanley had been writing all this down in his journal from the pen he produced from his shirt’s pocket; Ryan not having the heart to tell him about the black stain along the one corner of said pocket. 

“Any - ah - end goal you have here, Mr. Ryan? You know I ain’t no humanitarian when it comes to my stories, unless you’re payin’ for it.” 

This is exactly the reason why he had requested Mr. Poole specifically. 

Finding his drink to be a nuisance, Ryan resided to setting the glass back down along his desk before pacing around the front with hands clasped behind his back. 

“Yes, while I can imagine this to be a rather exciting story for Rapture, something about it seems very suspicious to me. I want to understand if the whole ordeal is genuine or not. Or if the man is rather putting on airs for the sake of the Futuristics and its profits. Especially with the correlation between Miss…Carter and this project she’s doing partially for the Futuristics.” 

Stanley nodded enthusiastically as he jotted down each note, his pen scratching along beside what Ryan could make out to be coffee ring stains as he drew a few dramatic underlines under nonsensical scratches. 

People, whether on the surface or not, have always revered a good shocking tale of taboo love - especially when it involved a person such as Fontaine. If Ryan couldn’t control the attention his business rival would get - when the news got out one way or another - he could at least exploit the story with his Industries-owned news outlet. Each nickel to Fontaine would still be a dime to Ryan. He’d make sure of that. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

The next inhale rattled every bone in her body, upsetting the butterflies to have taken up residency in her stomach. Wiping clammy palms along the waist of her dress, shaking fingers went back and forth with adjusting the skirt, smoothing out any creases she might have unintentionally made. 

Her heart had been hammering ever since she slipped into the small utility room, a woman waiting for her - one of Ryan’s employees - to do her hair and makeup before the ceremony. The woman was chatty, a nice distraction from the increasing murmur on the other side of the door, complimenting her hair and saying she had the perfect face for television. Jane held her lips in a thin smile, wanting to beg to differ but was rather grateful for the woman’s kind words. 

Not too soon after the woman was done with her final touches, fixing a curl or two from her updo, she left with a ‘good luck’ and a soft smile. The room fell eerily silent after, save for the distant clanking and hissing of the core around her - deep in the belly of Hephaestus. 

Jane had been pacing around the room, heels clacking against the tiled floor as she repeated to herself the speech she was going to give with the occasional glance at the clock hanging above the door. It was about 10 minutes until the start of the ceremony, Ryan coming to get her any moment now and the thought filled her ears with cotton. She had to steady herself against a desk situated in the utility room, focusing on taking deep breaths until the dark brown spots disappeared from the corners of her vision. 

God, where was Frank? If anything he’d be here reassuring her everything was going to be fine. Soft words spoken with a sharp edge to force her to see she was going to be ok.  

She was going to be ok. On the other side of that door, the next chapter of her career awaited her. Years of schooling, years of working to prove herself and her capabilities, her intelligence, months of research, experimenting, and doubt. Everything accumulated into this project that was finally ready to be implemented in the city, a chance to get her name in the spotlight; and recognized, finally, for her hard work. She deserved it anyway, feeling as if she was no longer leashed to her humble nature. 

Still, the limitless potential was there, the promise of success. And yet, there was the ever-present looming dread of failure hanging over her head on a slowly fraying rope. Today was make or break. 

Jane didn’t notice then that she had been chewing on her nails with each thought bombarding her. She swore under her breath at the habit her mother forced her to rid of at a young age. Yet, Jane found her nerves were sometimes far stronger than her conscious will. A few minutes later, the door’s hinges suddenly squeaking startled her for a second as a sliver of light crept into the small space. Ryan peered his head around the door with a large grin. 

“Are you ready, my dear?” 

Taking a steady breath, having learned to brush aside Ryan’s cycled monikers for her, she gave a nod of confirmation. She was honestly as ready as she’d ever be. 

Squaring her shoulders, Jane followed Ryan through the doorframe and braced herself for the turnout. They walked out to a decent-sized crowd with about a few dozen people. Many from the Tribune as reporters and cameramen were scattered, but still packed densely towards the distribution system. A small platform sat raised in front of the system, a microphone awaiting them as they walked the edge of the mob. 

While she originally was going to search the crowd for Frank, her attention immediately went to the system, situated near the core of Hephaestus with its own control dock. A batch of the “elixir” was already inside the large tank, glowing a dull red tinted slightly by the seaweed that had been crushed within the liquid. Tubes and piping rose out of the tank’s top hatch, trailing and connecting to the ceiling to follow the same piping system the core did. 

She didn’t know the gritty details, this end of the project was reserved for the Industries when it came to conducting the liquid into energy - with the help of ADAM - as they did with the magma and boiling water in the core. All she was made to understand was that when she finally turned the control panel on for the system, there was a lightbulb situated next to the power switch that should turn on if a conduction was successful. Then, it’ll take the remainder of the day, but half of Rapture’s power grid will be replaced by Jane’s energy source, the Industries monitoring for any dip in energy quality. 

And if all is still ok by the end of the week, she would have successfully created a conductor made entirely out of seaweed samples - duplicated and grown from a single seaweed sample - and ADAM. All without disrupting the seafloor and harvesting a limited resource. 

It almost didn’t even seem real, and the smile started small as it crept across her face. 

She followed Ryan then onto the makeshift podium and Jane felt her chest constrict in panic. Maybe it was her nerves, but standing on the podium made the crowd appear twice as large. Feeling so incredibly insignificant - standing next to Ryan of course - and yet so vulnerable as she now stood in the awaited spotlight. No one told her it would be this warm either, the literal spotlights from the ceiling above them beating down heavily. Yet, she wasn’t sure if the flush to line her face was due to the lights, or the fact that about half a dozen Tribune cameramen now had their flashes suddenly raised towards her. 

Of course, she’d be incredibly ignorant to not expect the attention from them. Over the past couple of weeks, since blurting to Ryan about her and Fontaine’s alleged engagement, there had already been a few headlines in the Tribune. However, most of them oozed rumors, and gossip about whether they were actually engaged or not. It was interesting to see and read, but entertaining nonetheless. And Jane took to pushing those rumors as much as she could, wearing multiple rings now on both hands to confuse the masses. 

Was it all real, or was it just a new fashion statement for the scientist to match her white lab coats and ADAM-stained skirts? Whatever the public thought, whatever they decided to make of the headlines, she did all she could to keep the front page occupied - anything to keep Sullivan from getting nothing but a 5th-page filler article. 

Eventually, she and Frank did decide on a loose cover story about the engagement. A romantic evening during New Year’s Eve in a lounge at The Satyr on High Street that Fontaine had reserved for the night. Overlooking the ocean, as the clock struck midnight, he pulled the ring from his pocket and asked for her hand with each word coated in sugar and honey. And she said yes with no hesitation.  

She could gag every time she thought of the story. A tale to be told with such drama and love-struck blindness to any slimy, stalking reporter who’d ask. Yet, she’d be lying to herself if she wasn’t wishing for something of the sort back on the surface - or even down here in Rapture. The thought of that nonexistent evening was nice, but she’d take the night he gave her the ring. Not a proposal, but a promise as they sank to the floor with emotions suddenly too heavy to bear. And she’s worn the ring with the encumbering weight of that promise ever since. 

As for the story, it was exhausting to try and keep up the act - if it could even really be considered as one. The amusement, however, she took from swaying the public only encouraged her to continue with it; especially when the rest of Rapture took the baited gossip with such ease. 

Some fish can tell the difference between chum, bread, and worms, her dad used to say, but food is food and they’ll take what they can get - easy fishing for us.

A little too easy…

Jane felt like she was plastered to the ground beneath her as she stood next to Ryan, who was trying to figure out if the microphone was working or not. Scanning the crowd a bit more, she finally spotted Frank who stood off to the left of the crowd and podium. He was talking to an employee of his, a gent from marketing, and he met her gaze with a sideglance towards the podium. The half smile to lift his lips was brief but melted almost all the tension from her shoulders. Exhaling a deep breath, she gave him a small nod before scanning the rest of the crowd. 

Ryan had boasted to her about a few of Rapture’s “Greatest” being invited to this grand opening ceremony while they were putting all this together a few days prior. So, she took to searching for a few of these faces. She immediately recognized Brigid towards the back, with a drink in hand, as she talked to Dr. Suchong. The woman’s disinterested look pulling at her features indicated she’d rather be anywhere else, but it was still nice to see her here supporting a project she had a hand in with as well. 

Jane smiled towards the scientist and started trailing her attention along the rest of the crowd until she spotted one face that instantly melted all nerves into a buzzing excitement. Dr. Julie Langford, standing among the crowd with a flute of champagne and a slightly bored expression

The Botanist had been a major influence on this project. Jane had read her book twice now that explained how Arcadia came to be and Langford’s struggle with land and marine fauna, now that she was at the bottom of the ocean. It was an inspiring tale of branching out and working with the unknown, experimenting, and everything that enticed Jane to switch her mindset from the biology of the slugs - her comfort zone pertaining to marine life in terms of animals - to marine fauna. 

She had to talk to her at some point, even if that meant after sating the Tribune’s hungry reporters once the ceremony was done. 

A sudden metallic shriek pierced the air, Jane startling along with the crowd as Ryan tapped the microphone. 

“Hello?” He tapped the microphone. “Ah, there we go. Welcome everyone!” The sudden hush of the crowd then was impressive. “Welcome to the unveiling and opening ceremony celebrating the next step for Rapture’s energy!” 

An applause swelled within the crowd as a few cameras started flashing toward them. 

“Today, we acknowledge a bright mind who has worked tirelessly on a passion that evolved into a project; an opportunity to revolutionize the way Rapture utilizes its energy and distribution to, not only every business in the city, but to your very homes as well!” 

Ryan raised a hand towards Jane, and she froze in place as all eyes were suddenly on her. 

The man’s voice boomed into the microphone. “Please, join me in welcoming the brilliant woman herself, Miss Jane Hartley.”  

Another applause followed as Jane reached to take the microphone from Ryan, hands trembling as she paused for a second for the plethora of cameras flashing in her direction. Clearing her throat, she took a shaky breath. 

“Hello, and welcome everyone, thank you all for coming!” The continued applause with a few cheers eased her nerves. “I started working at the Futuristics almost a year ago, as a receptionist believe it or not, however, Mr. Fontaine - “ She lifted a hand towards the man now standing to her left on the platform. “Saw potential in myself, hiring me to work in his labs and fulfill a childhood dream of mine as well.”

A few in the crowd gasped and awed as she mentioned her childhood. ‘Talk ‘bout when you were a kid.’ Frank had told her the previous night as she was preparing this speech. ‘People love that shit. Might take the edge off a bit.' She’d begrudgingly admit to him later how it did, indeed, take some of the public-speaking pressure off her chest. 

“During my first few weeks in the labs, assisting with research regarding ADAM production, I became curious about the resource and its relationship with Plasmids and human biology. I collaborated with other fellow scientists in expanding any studies on its properties, eventually discovering something incredible about its interaction with marine fauna, especially.” 

Jane smiled once she saw the general intrigued reaction from the crowd and she turned to direct everyone’s attention toward the Elixir tank. “A seemingly endless energy source. Currently, Rapture pulls magma from beneath the seafloor and processes it here, in Hephaestus, to distribute as energy out to the rest of the city.” She paused. “Now, what if I told all of you, that magma is certainly not an unlimited resource; but my solution can be .” 

More flashes went off as she purposely posed in front of the tank. “Ladies and gentlemen, the tank you see here is filled with an Elixir containing a mixture of diluted ADAM and seaweed - all mixed up and pureed into a liquid mimicking the consistency of the magma being pulled from the seafloor. However, all the seaweed you see here has been grown from a single seaweed cell - this tank alone is enough to power half of Rapture for the next few months. A resource that is both easy to maintain supply and poses no disruptive measures on the environment around us. ” 

Jane moved to grip the microphone with both hands. “And today, after months of planning and collaborating, the Industries and Futuristics are finally ready to implement this distribution system into Rapture’s power grid.” 

A mix of applause and curious murmuring flowed through the crowd like a steady wave as Jane handed the microphone off to Ryan. He traded it with a key produced from his pocket, and she took it with nerves practically bubbling over within her. Sticking the key into the power slot along the console, the whole thing whirred to life as her hand moved to grip the lever next to the key slot. She made the effort to turn to the side a bit for the crowd and reporters to see, her knuckles almost turning white as she held her breath, pulling it to finally set the system into motion. 

The tank bubbled and gurgled, the entire system and console lighting up like a Christmas tree as the Elixir started siphoning up and through the piping. And while the crowd all had their attention on the pips towards the ceiling, Jane kept a sharp eye on the bulb along the console. Her breath caught in her chest as she watched the bulb flicker, a few seconds passed before it flashed on and remained on, immense relief washing over her. 

It worked. The ADAM in the mixture was successful in its conduction as it, slowly but surely, started replacing half of the magma’s conduction in Rapture’s energy grid. She was told some people might experience flickering lights but by the evening, things should be back to normal and her project deemed successful. 

“Ladies and gentlemen -” She brought everyone’s attention back down to her as she lifted both hands towards the illuminated bulb, voice almost shaking from her excitement. “We have power!” 

A final round of applause exploded with more whistles and cheers as the smile only grew along her features. An intense and unexplainable warmth bloomed in her chest as she paced back over to Ryan who was clapping as well, standing next to him - as they practiced - with Frank coming up to stand on her left. They paused for the plethora of cameramen shoving against each other to get as many photos of the trio as possible. Frank also decided, this moment out of any, to slip his hand lower from where Ryan had his along her upper back. His palm reached around to grip her hip and position himself closer to her side, dipping his head down to mutter a soft, “Good job” along the shell of her ear. 

Jane turned to him with a genuine beaming smile, on cloud 9 as her nose barely brushed against his own and she suddenly felt the intense heat from the camera’s flashes gravitate toward them. If any shot was the money shot, that was it; and she held onto his gaze for a few seconds as a smirk lifted the corner of his lip.

Eat your heart out, Ryan. 

It was all a flurry after that. 

Finally stepping down off the platform, she was almost immediately handed a glass of champagne as a quick toast was held for her and the two company’s partnerships. However, she was barely able to partake in the glass as a dozen or so reporters flanked her after. It was all incredibly suffocating as she posed for more photos and answered any questions she could. This was only the beginning, she kept repeating to herself, almost instantly feeling drained at the thought of sitting through more interviews in the near future. 

It only comes with the territory. 

To her surprise, Frank had also decided to stay close to her for the remainder of the ceremony’s “after party”, as Ryan loosely threw the term out. The tycoon kept his touches rather obvious, but open-ended. The hand along her waist, the arm around her shoulder, and along her back, even from a professional standpoint, the touches could be from a proud employer rather than a potential fiancé. 

Keeps the public guessin’, she could practically hear him say. 

However, when she was finally able to excuse herself from a few reporters, Frank mostly talking to them about the Futuristics, she took the opportunity to get a refill - and to find Langford. Making a bee-line for the pop-up bar, Jane was quick to request whatever wine they had on hand and turned to search for the Botanist over her shoulder. Once securing her glass, filled almost to the brim with a blood-red merlot, her head moved on a swivel as she searched the crowd again. Eventually, she caught sight of the woman’s dirty blond hair, Langford nursing her glass of wine as Jane made a sharp left towards the staircase she was leaning against. 

“Dr. Langford!” She called out to her, striking blue eyes behind round glasses lifted to meet where the voice was coming from. 

“Ah, there she is. The woman of the evening.” Langford propped herself from the metal bars of the stair’s railing, voice strident and strong amongst the sea of people surrounding her. 

Jane huffed a laugh, tilting her head down to hide the smile and fixing her hair a bit as she approached. “Nonsense, I’m merely a poster child for the Industries and Futuristics. I was nervous as hell giving that speech.” 

The woman smirked, full lips quirking as she took a sip from her glass. “I certainly couldn’t tell. You hold yourself like you’ve done this a million times over, Miss Hartley.” 

“Oh, please, Jane is fine. But, thank you, Dr. Langford. That means a lot, especially since your book inspired me to even start this project.” 

Langford arched a brow in curiosity. 

“Your book on how Arcadia came to be? And your struggle with working between land and marine fauna? I, myself, know more about marine life in terms of animals; but your book encouraged me to branch out into experimenting with marine fauna. It truly opened my eyes to working with new things and, well -” 

Jane gave a weak smile and a glance over towards the system. She knew she had to be rambling, but also found it impossible not to recognize another intelligent and hard-working scientist like Langford. The other woman, however, gave her an equally soft smile - a little odd as Langford was a lot like Tenenbaum in keeping their general expressions to a minimum. 

“It’s an honor - Jane. I wrote that book in 2 years tops and wasn’t sure that droning thing would sell at all. I’m glad to see it went to good use with even more greatness to come from it.” 

Jane could hardly conceal her excitement, feeling giddy with a slight bounce of her heels. “Some of our best works are only recognized by few. It’s a privilege to have some of the greatest minds in Rapture here to recognize my work.”  

Dr. Langford raised her glass to her then, a smirk twisting her lips. “Well then, Miss Hartley, welcome to the club.” 

~*~

Man, Jack was getting big. 

Jane didn’t have to crouch anymore to hug the boy or reach far to ruffle his hair. From his last checkup, though, Brigid did warn that the boy could go through a rapid growth spurt any day now, especially after changing up his medication’s dosage. They were slowly weening the kid off the stuff and he went from looking like a normal 6-7-year-old boy around the new year to an 11-12-year-old within a couple of months. His mentality was starting to catch up to his physical age as well, and yet she still couldn’t convince herself that he was just “born” a little over 2 years ago. 

Only in Rapture. 

She still found herself leaning over a bit, carding her fingers through the boy’s recently washed hair, trying to comb the strands that were drying already. He was unusually quiet, looking down at his feet as he sat on the stairs, his head tilting with her movements. 

“Worried?” Jane muttered above him, fishing for his attention and he finally lifted his head. “Don’t be.” She gave a reassuring smile. “Just think, you’ll have the whole place to yourself tonight. But, remember to use the oven like I showed you to reheat the leftovers from last night, ok?” 

“I remember.” Jack’s lip quirked for a second before falling again, pulling at his features. “I guess…I’m just nervous.” 

Giving a squeeze to his shoulders, she lifted his chin to keep his attention. “That’s alright, it’s ok to be nervous - this is new for you. But, I promise you that this complex is safe, you know that. And if you do well on your own tonight, Fontaine and I might consider letting you go out by yourself sometime - “ 

Jack’s eyes suddenly snapped up to hers, opening his mouth with excitement evident on his face before she lifted a finger to stop him. 

“Ah - when you get a little older. This is just a test to see if you can handle tonight by yourself.” 

Any previous fear that might have riddled his features slowly faded away to hope and excitement. Recently, Jack’s been wanting more independence, asking for it with his voice cracking around his words in apprehension. Frank was always quick to say no, don’t even think about it. Jane, however, was a little more forgiving with her answers - always leaving the possibility open for the kid. 

“And - don’t use the phrase on him, Frank.” She noticed the man step into her peripheral as if he were about to lay his list of rules onto Jack with some mind control assistance. Jane never liked him using the phrase. “Let him figure tonight out on his own.” 

The huff followed him as he stepped away to shrug on his suit jacket. Jane rolled her eyes with a smirk as she stood to put on her shawl, fixing her earrings as she spoke to the boy again. 

“Remember, bed by 10. It doesn’t matter if you’re reading, as long as the lights are out by then, ok?” 

He nodded in understanding, grabbing for the clutch she had set along the stairs next to him. Jack handed it to her with a sheepish grin, still feeling the nerves jumble in his stomach and she took it with a soft smile. Jane leaned forward to kiss the boy on his forehead, her hand gentle along his cheek. 

“Be good, Jack. We’ll be back around midnight.” 

He waved to them as they left, Jane trailing behind Reggie and Frank with the front door shuttering closed behind them. She had given the boy one last look, the worry evident but she had faith in him and his ability to make it through the evening by himself. Reggie would always tell her whenever he’d been home with Jack recently, the kid would mostly keep to himself, working on his studies, reading, or taking a nap. The kid could make his meals, if they were simple enough, and would always get ready for bed without anyone needing to remind him. 

Still, she couldn’t help but worry as they boarded the bathysphere, observing her reflection in the sphere’s largest window as they descended into the ocean. She constantly wondered when her maternal instincts would ease up, figuring they would the older the boy would get. Jack wasn’t even hers, and yet she felt like a mother leaving her son alone for the first time, hoping he wouldn’t burn the place to the ground while trying to reheat leftovers for dinner. 

God, don’t even think about that right now. 

They were supposed to be celebrating tonight. Celebrating the success of Jane’s project and the overall ceremony with a night out in Fort Frolic. Jane had already expressed interest in seeing one of Cohen’s shows, Frank informing her they weren’t much to gawk at after getting past the extensive marketing. She really didn’t care, only having been to Fort Frolic one other time - besides the gala - while she still lived in the Drop. Not even having the money at the time to purchase a ticket to a show; she and Ann rather walked arm-in-arm window shopping and viewing what art collections they could for free before heading home to the Limbo Room to drink the night away. 

Even now, it was still so foreign to her, studying her reflection and the navy floor-length evening gown. The slit of the dress was only visible if she moved, but the number was something Frank had been rather eager to see her in since getting it for her as a Christmas gift. Paired with a string of pearls around her neck and wrist, a hand reached up to gingerly brush the matching earrings and the glint of sapphire caught the dimmed lights in the sub. Even after the gala, the ceremony, and the headlines starting to circle Rapture; the spotlight still seemed so outlandish, so distant. Like she wasn’t deserving of it just yet, all her hard work still building towards something much greater. 

And it only left her wanting more. 

They had reached Fort Frolic much quicker than she anticipated. Of course, as lost in her thoughts as she was, it wasn’t much of a surprise to suddenly see the sphere ascending to the docking station. The aggressive fluttering returned to her stomach as well, a flush evident through her reflection in the window. 

Way too many people were milling around the docking station. People leaving their spheres with extravagant gowns and suits, glasses already in hand with laughter muffled behind the window. And while Langford’s words were circling in her head like a storm cloud, while she was “welcomed to the club” now that some of Rapture’s Greatest was seeing her among them - that still didn’t keep the fear from freezing her feet in place. 

The hand along her lower back was gentle and warm, shaking her attention from her reflection and the plethora of people milling beyond it. 

“You ready? Unless you wanna stay here an’ stare at yourself a bit longer. Wouldn’t blame you though.” 

Jane scowled at his reflection, rolling her eyes after watching his rake slowly from the slit in the dress to her face. 

“I’m ready.” 

The huff puffed against the shell of her ear, he didn’t even need to ask to confirm the dread riddling her. “Don’t be nervous. Remember what I told you, carry yourself like you own the place. An’ you don’t gotta answer any reporters unless you want to. We’ve got Reggie with us for a reason this time.” 

She caught Reggie’s reflection behind them and he smiled in reassurance. Jane couldn’t help her smile as well, nibbling on her lower lip as she inhaled deeply. 

“Alright, let’s go.” Before I change my mind.  

Frank opened the sphere’s hatch, stepping through first before assisting her up and over the edge as her heels clacked angrily against the grates below them. Very few turned their way as they left the docking station, the crowd too focused on entering the bustle of the Atrium. Jane still held Frank’s hand like a vice, looking back now and then to Reggie who trailed closely behind them. Her heart felt like it was in her throat, excited for the evening and yet terrified of doing something stupid to muck up her and Frank’s lie, or worse, either of their reputations. 

However, her nerves settled quickly as exhilaration began thrumming through her body. The Atrium was alight with life, buzzed laughter, and music. Neon signs directing patrons every which way. To Posiden’s Plaza, the Fleet Hall, Cohen’s art collections, and every business where someone could find something to drink or the finest cigars. Frank extended his arm to her then, after gently dragging her up next to him, she wound her hand around the crook of his forearm. Her fingers dug slightly into his bicep as he led them towards a few entrances to a hallway circling the center hall of the Atrium. Shops, galleries, and restaurants lined this space as people gathered in large groups laughing and drinking; all probably waiting for the next scheduled performance. 

She watched Frank lean back to mention something to Reggie about dinner first. While she didn’t know the details of the night and what he had planned, she figured dinner would have to be in the mix somewhere. The next showing they had tickets to wasn’t until 8 and a glance at the watch on Frank’s wrist told her it wasn’t even 5:30. They surely had a lot of time to kill. Jane just hoped she had a glass of wine in her hand at some point within the next hour or so. 

There were actually very few restaurants in Fort Frolic. Most could find finger food being served at the casino or Cocktail Lounge, but the overall premise of Cohen’s little artistic oasis in Rapture was to be loose, free, and unburdened. Unconfined except for, of course, a glass always filled with all the diluted wine and cheap alcohol one could wish for. 

For those in Rapture who had money, however…

Jane tightened her grip as they approached a greeter at one of the few restaurants, surpassing the incredibly long line snaking back and out into the center of the Atrium. She tried to keep her gaze straight, attempting to not sneak glances back at the few who huffed at her and Frank for cutting the line. Once spotting them, the greeter was quick to step aside and welcome them through with Reggie trailing behind. The man needed to give a few people in the line a sharp side-eye as they muttered - rather loudly - less than nice things about Jane hanging from Fontiane’s arm. 

Of course, Jane would never admit to Reggie that she heard them too. 

As they entered the restaurant, she couldn’t shake how similar it felt to the Silver Fin, a dimmed environment with lights lining the floor throughout. Unlike the Kashmir or Silver Fin, however, this restaurant - which she caught the name as The Lotus - was oddly quiet, the drifting melody of a live band coming from somewhere. With each table they passed, she also noticed how each booth’s structure seemed encased in on itself, like a flower days from fully blooming. It was becoming apparent then as well that their table was one that Frank always had available, as he did at other locations in the city. And it was situated a good distance from the entrance near a window overlooking the city. 

The greeter gestured them to the table, even taking the time to pull the chair out for Jane as she gingerly took her seat with a meek ‘thank you’. Frank took a seat to her right with Reggie sitting on her left, the turquoise hue from the ocean outside oozing through the window and bathing their table in a slightly shifting glow. Menus were left for them, along with a list of the day’s catch and Jane was quick to request a glass of wine when the greeter asked before disappearing in a sudden red mist. 

From the corner of her eye, she caught Frank rubbing at the inside of his forearm and bicep where she had been gripping him like a lifeline. The flush burned along her cheeks as she hunched her shoulders in on herself. 

She should have asked the greeter for his strongest selection. 

“Sorry.” Jane smiled sheepishly, hands wringing themselves in her lap. “I don’t know why - what’s wrong with me this evening. It’s not like I haven’t been to Fort Frolic or out with you in public before just…not like this.” 

Whether Rapture thought the headlines, the rumors, and the gossip to be true or not - it all wasn’t entirely a lie. She still loved Frank, albeit not the one that everyone knew to be a heartless tycoon. The physical affection, the words spoken between them, and the thoughts they seemed to share at times, were all very real. 

A thought entered her mind then, startling and intrusive in wondering how long it was going to stay a lie - the engagement. 

They couldn’t. Not down here. 

“It’s fine.” His voice drifted to her like a beacon of light, pulling her from her thoughts. “Didn’t expect you to loosen up the second we stepped foot here.” 

Not a second later, a waiter returned instead in a flash of red, already setting Jane’s wine glass by her side before she could comprehend him standing there. Jumping slightly in her seat, she was quick to duck her head while clearing her throat, watching the waiter from under her lashes pass Frank a glass and set an identical one with Reggie. 

Once placing their orders with the waiter, he was gone again in a blink of an eye. And when the red mist cleared, she saw Frank holding up his glass in a toast. An unsteady hand found her wine glass to lift it, Reggie following suit as Frank toasted to Jane’s project and a successful opening ceremony. And while it was nothing compared to the toast Ryan had given earlier that day, an entire room full of people cheering her name; she’d rather have a smaller celebration like this anyway. Until she was better used to the recognition, however, Jane felt she had to put her humble nature aside quicker than anticipated. 

She deserved it. Remember? All that hard work? All those years spent in your classmate's shadows? 

At that last thought, her lips settled along her wine glass with a pause before downing almost half the burgundy liquid, the taste bitter but oh so sweet going down. 

Tonight was supposed to be a celebration, and something was hinting she didn’t necessarily need to remember it tomorrow morning to still have a good time. Right? 

~*~

She couldn’t help the giggles to bubble and spill from her lips, cheeks flaring with her head feeling as if it was just floating on her shoulders. Fingers just barely gripped at Frank’s sleeve as he pulled her through the crowds of the Fleet Hall. Although, it appeared the few drinks he had during dinner weren’t faring him any better than herself. The occasional glance he’d give her coupled with a raised brow and the ghost of a smirk was telling enough, the second they got to his private booth, Jane wasn’t going to remember much about the show either. 

However, the incessant flashes from scattered Tribune cameramen kept shaking her back to reality. Reggie even did his damnest to shield the couple as they made their way to the theater’s second-floor elevator. She almost groaned out loud too once she saw a line for the elevator. Granted only a couple of people could fit in it at a time, but the camera flashes were starting to spot and blur her vision, unable to distinguish them from the spotlights lining the ceiling. Luckily, the line was short enough as they hid between Reggie’s larger form and a wall. But, it still wasn’t enough to stop the most ambitious photographers. 

Stanley had found himself amongst this scattering of Tribune reporters, his own smaller camera in hand and finger ready on the trigger for his money shot. After hearing from Ryan that the couple was planning on seeing a show after the ceremony, Stanley was quick to reserve his Express ticket to Fort Frolic. He had waited around for a good long while before spotting a random swarm of flashing lights at the Fleet Hall. Using his lithe form to worm between the crowds, he somehow was able to wiggle around Fontaine’s brute of a bodyguard without the man noticing. It was a bit awkward for the group behind the couple as the reporter wedged his way among them, but his eyes grew wide at the scene playing out in front of him. 

It was obvious the two were intoxicated, a nice pink flush on both their faces as it appeared Fontaine was whispering something to her while glancing back at the hoard of reporters. She’d giggle, pressing further into his grasp along her waist until Fontaine decided to tease a few pecks to the corner of her lips. Stanley suddenly lifted his camera once he saw the sapphire - and the sapphire alone -  Ryan had been droning to him about. Jane had her left hand on Fontaine’s face as if she meant to playfully guide his head away from hers, his head ducking with mouth working against her jaw. She was staring, unseeing, almost directly at Stanley’s camera lens as he pulled the trigger, taking several photos in succession as the shutter whined, trying to keep up. 

And just as quickly as he appeared, Stanley slunk back from the line and into the crowds of the Fleet Hall. His lips twisted in a devilish smile, heart racing in his chest at how close he was able to get to them, and the photos he was able to capture. The best part was he’d be able to return to Ryan and get his paycheck - also tacking on that the rumors were, indeed, real. 

Ryan would be sure to like that very much. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

The room was a blur of abstract shapes and colors as the ceiling shifted and rocked like steady waves against the side of a ship. Her head felt like it bobbled and swayed, even in her reclined state and resting along the pillow as it was. The whined moan to rumble in her chest didn’t even sound like it was coming from her as her eyes slowly adjusted to the bedroom. 

God, what time was it?  

She tried to lift her head to look at the bedside clock, but any movement - no matter how slight - caused a violent spell of nausea to rush from her head to her gut. Squeezing her eyes shut, Jane swore under her breath as her gaze darted toward the end of the bed once she spotted some movement. 

“Good, she’s alive.” 

Her eyes rolled shut again as he approached, another groan tumbling from barely parted and cracked lips. Even as she swallowed, her mouth burned and ached, feeling like her cheeks were stuffed with cotton. She had whined his name, long and drawn out, with hands fisting into the comforter and pulling it up over her nose. 

“What happened?” Her question was muffled behind the fabric. “Why does it feel like I got hit by a goddamn bus?” 

Frank had knelt on one knee next to the bed, an amused but equally sympathetic look lining his features. 

“‘Cause shitty alcohol will do that to ya.” 

Oh, right. 

“I think you drank almost two bottles of wine, an’ stole my drink a coupla times.” 

Jane felt her head pound at just him mentioning it, “And you didn’t think to stop me, or anything?” 

He shrugged, “You seemed like you were havin’ a good time. Especially after the ceremony an’ everythin’. Finally loosened up a bit, laughin’, gettin’ into the show.” 

Well, she’s glad it sounds like she had a good time. 

“Just - ignore the bruises, if you see any,” Frank mentioned as he started standing up, her eyes going wide with a hand instinctively raising to her neck. 

“What -” 

“I forgot you tend to get a little…round-heeled when you drink a lot” He reached to place the back of his hand along her forehead, feeling for her temperature as he had been doing all night. “Could hardly keep you off my lap for most of the night. Not like I didn’t want that or anythin’ anyway.” His grin was shit-eating as he removed his hand, satisfied she didn’t seem to be running a fever anymore and reached for the glass of water he’d set on her nightstand. 

Jane knit her brows in opposition as he coaxed her to sit up - and with the sudden bombardment of fragmented memories from the previous night. She remembers being incredibly clingy in her drunken state, refusing to sit in her chair in Fontaine’s private viewing box. However, it seemed he wasn’t going to argue with her anyway as she’d steal kiss after kiss, addicted to the taste of whiskey on his lips. Everything was mostly a blur of roaming hands and lips leaving bruises etched into each other’s skin. 

Fuck. Come to think of it, she really couldn’t even remember Cohen’s show at all. 

And as she took her time, slowly emerging from the comforter, she couldn’t help but notice a few spots peppering the skin of his neck as well; barely hidden by the collar of his shirt. Looks like the fact that they were in public didn’t stop her from - almost - having her way with the man. 

She didn’t have a chance to reminisce for too long as her temples started throbbing with intense pain, the room swirling a bit around her when she finally propped herself in this new position. A shaky hand reached for the glass of water he was handing to her, the coolness of the glass a godsent against the cracking skin of her lips. She had to do everything to pace herself while drinking it. 

Taking careful sips, her brows knit as she watched Frank organize her nightstand a bit, the furniture having been littered with tissues and various painkiller pill bottles. 

Jane muttered around the rim of her drink. “Are you going somewhere?” Noticing his dressed state. 

Satisfied with her side of the bed not looking like she’d got up about a dozen times to get sick and bawl her eyes out, wailing at how sorry she was for her behavior; Frank paced over to grab for his suit jacket draped along the loveseat. He turned back at her question, a smile slow to crawl along his lips seeing her being swallowed by the comforter, both hands gripping her glass and eyes drooping with sleep. 

“Ryan called me this mornin’, wanted to talk ‘bout somethin’.” He watched her sink into the comforter then with gaze falling, face flushing as if Ryan would want to address her behavior from last night. As if the man would have seen her, now a public figure in Rapture, acting so outlandish. 

Frank took a few steps back over towards the mattress, leaning down to press a fleeting kiss to her hairline. “Don’t worry, alright? He probably wants to talk ‘bout some interview opportunities or other boring shit like that.” 

Jane raised her eyes to him, her bottom lids wet with brimming tears. “Nope, don’t even think ‘bout it.” He wiped at her eyes with his thumbs, her skin almost searing under his. “Just rest, ok? I’ll only be gone for a bit, but Reggie’s here if you need ‘im.” 

She could only nod at his request, tired eyes watching him straighten out his jacket before placing one last kiss on the top of her head. He left the bedroom with a wave over his shoulder, the echoing groan of the wooden door following him out. Jane lolled her head back against the pillow, staring unseeing towards the haze of sea green hanging like a cloud along the ceiling and the few schools of fish swimming by the skylight. 

~*~

Frank had a good idea as to what this little meeting was about, stepping from Ryan’s private bathysphere docking station with shoulders squared and posture tall. 

While it was unlikely for them to have run into him last night, Ryan still had eyes and ears everywhere in Rapture. From security cameras to the Tribune reporters themselves, Frank also wouldn’t lie to himself as he did indeed spot Stanley slinking around the theater last night. Whether ol’ Andy gave the weasely reporter a specific task or not, a request to snap a few photos or get whatever sort of dirt on them; it was apparent Ryan had something against the pair. 

Maybe he saw them as a threat? The thought was enough to curl his mouth into a smirk as he entered Ryan’s office. The embellished glass door was already open, welcoming the tycoon in as if he worked there as well. Ryan was perched against the side of his oak desk, lighting a cigar and flicking the lighter shut after seeing Fontaine. 

“Ah, there you are. I was worried you weren’t going to stop by.” 

Frank watched the man take a long draw from the cigar, a silver trail snaking up toward the ceiling after blowing a few puffs away from his direction. “Had to take care of some things this mornin’.” The smile he threw the man was coated in irony. “Why would I miss out talkin’ to my favorite person?” 

The chuckle that spilled past Ryan’s lips came across more like a breathless scoff, “Ah, we wouldn’t want to tell Miss. Jane that, now would we?” 

Something about her name on Ryan’s tongue stiffened Frank’s spine as his hands found solace in his pockets, one balling into a tight fist. He shrugged his shoulders quickly after Ryan’s comment. “Eh, she can tell the difference between sarcasm.” 

“Well,” Ryan leaned back to grab for something along his desk, ignoring Fontaine’s jab and coming back with a manila folder. He flipped the folder around in his grasp a bit before stating rather confidently. “If she has a great sense of humor, then she wouldn’t so much as mind this either.” 

Frank automatically knit his brows as Ryan reached to hand the folder off to him. It appeared as if it had nothing in it, yet the weight of Ryan’s words added about a ton to the flimsy paper. And when he opened it, the sudden deep inhale barely helped to quell the sudden shock. 

It was a photo, clipped to the top of the folder, of them from last night. Although, Jane took up the majority of the image as Frank appeared to duck behind her head to place a kiss along her jawline, not fully facing the camera. But, she had her left hand along his jaw, the sapphire ring even catching the light from the camera’s flash, sparkling and painfully obvious. What caused the heat to burn in his veins was that it appeared she was almost looking directly at the camera with narrowed eyes, the flush evident on her face, and painted lips slightly parted in a gasp. A provocative look she’s only ever reserved for him, that he’s only ever seen in the privacy of their complex. At that point in the night, she was also well on her way to being shit-faced - and Ryan had taken advantage of that. 

“Huh -” Frank huffed in disbelief, stomping down the sudden intense hatred for the one reporter he knew would be capable of slipping around Reggie to grab this photo. “That bastard.” 

Steel eyes raised to meet Ryan’s, the man’s face twisted in sheer pleasure at Fontaine’s barely concealed vexation. “How much you give ‘im for a shot like this?” 

The man had the gull to smirk at Frank then. “Far more than you’d be willing to match.”  

The folder fluttered shut with Frank clicking his tongue. “So, what?” He cleared his throat to calm the seething resentment boiling within him. “You wanna use this picture as blackmail or somethin’?” 

“Not necessarily.” Ryan gave another brief smile before pacing around to the front of his desk, taking another drag of the cigar. “I intended to publish it in the Tribune as a - celebration of your engagement, rather.” He huffed a laugh. “Of course, I wanted you to see the photo before I sent it off for tomorrow’s publication.” 

Opening the folder again, Frank glanced at the photo with a gross imitation of a smirk. “The rat managed to get her good side, at least.” The words were hardly bit back between gritted teeth.

Ryan held the cigar to his lips, humming with brows furrowing in confusion. “But you’re not - bothered by this? Upset? It’s a rather intimate photo.” 

His only immediate response was a shrug, seemingly rather nonchalant at first as Ryan watched the tycoon shake his head at the photo. 

“Andy, look - I ain’t ashamed of Jane, ain’t ashamed of what I’ve got goin’ with her, an’ certainly ain’t ashamed of those diamonds on her hand.” The eerie glance Fontaine shot Ryan startled him for a second as he closed the folder again, silver eyes piercing and cruel “I mean, if anythin’ I’ve got somethin’ legitimate even Andrew Ryan can’t say he has, can he?” 

Ryan sputtered for a second, knowing the question to be rhetorical but also wanting to defend himself against the tycoon. Fontaine was quick to cut him off though, taking a few steps closer to him while waving the folder side to side. 

“Yeah, it’s an intimate photo, but why would I be upset about my gorgeous fiancée on the front page of the Tribune when she deserves the spotlight? The recognition? Especially after this project of hers goin’ live an’ bein’ successful.” 

“It just - doesn’t make sense.” 

Frank was starting to revel in the skepticism riddling the man’s face, biting on the inside of his cheek to hide his smile. “What doesn’t?” 

“It just seems as if you two haven’t known each other for that long, a year at most.” Ryan turned with his back to Fontaine as he flicked the ashes off the butt of his cigar into a near ashtray, his free hand supporting him atop his desk. “And - that’s it?” He turned back to a disinterested look on the tycoon’s face. “Fontaine, a man known for having every woman he wants on his arm - that you’ve boasted to me about - shackled down by one woman, by marriage?” 

That disinterest instantly turned defensive. “Woah woah, Jane ain’t shacklin’ me.” He quickly paced forward and into Ryan’s space. “Nothin’s changed since I put that ring on her finger. Yeah, I’m not bringin’ a new broad home every night, or tradin’ off between one an’ the other - but why would I? Jane gives me all I need, an’ I don’t gotta drink ‘nough to blur a random woman’s face anymore.” 

Fontaine towered over Ryan, a small chuckle huffing past his lips as he watched him take a weary step backward, low back thunking into the edge of his desk. “Plus, maybe you don’t know Fontaine as well as you thought.” 

Ryan removed the cigar from his mouth to utter, “What do you mean?” His words oozed inquisitiveness. 

“I mean, I’ve known Jane for a while, Andy.” Frank pulled a cigarette from his pocket, having been fiddling with it on his way over to Ryan’s. “Hell, even before Rapture, I knew her.” 

Careful, Frank. 

“Before Rapture?” Ryan fished the lighter from his pocket, flicking it open to light the cigarette stretched out to him. “Were you two together then?” Now, this was interesting. 

Fontaine took a drag before answering him though, blowing the smoke off to the side but still managing to hit him in the face a bit. 

“Eh, yes an’ no. We messed around but never committed to anythin’. I was too busy with the Fisheries an’ her with college.” 

Ryan hummed, setting the cigar between his lips again but rather allowing the musky cherry scent to linger and tickle at his nose. “Huh, I never would have guessed. You’ve always held yourself in a very different light.” 

Another nonchalant shrug, “Well, I could. Her an’ I were doin’ our own thing until I hired her into the Futuristics. Found out pretty quick the pull she still had.” 

“Hmpf, you continue to surprise me, Fontaine.” He took a long drag this time, letting the words simmer between the two men before Fontaine puffed another cloud of smoke in his direction as he exclaimed. 

“That’s what I’m here for, Andy!” Frank shifted to the side to snub out the cigarette he took all but a few drags from in the ashtray on Ryan’s desk. “Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes.” 

Ryan couldn’t help the slight chuckle, “So, you’re alright then if this photo were to be published?” 

“Like I said, you at least got her good side.” Frank lifted the folder with a quick wave, and yet his tone shifted on a dime with his voice lowering dangerously. “But, lemme tell you something’ - if I so much as see any sort of damnin’ headline above a photo of her, now or in the future, Sullivan’s gonna be findin’ bodies off the wharf’s docks for weeks .”

An intense seriousness lined Fontaine’s features, the folder lifted and pointing at Ryan’s chest as he hummed lowly. “Hmm, duly noted.” 

The tension that had been slowly overflowing between the two started melting away once Frank took a step back. Leveling Ryan with another razor-sharp stare as he held the folder out. Ryan was quick to hold up his hand with a smile. 

“Oh no, by all means, you can keep that one. I have my own copies here, and I’m sure Jane would like to see this as well.” 

Without wasting another second, Frank gave a slight nod and tucked the folder under his arm. He turned for the door then, assuming Ryan was done twisting the knife as much as he had hoped to this morning. However, as soon as he made it to the office’s threshold, Ryan called out to him. 

“Oh, and Fontaine - you know how much I love gatherings. Please, do keep me informed about any sort of wedding ceremony. I’d love to help with setting up a venue or assisting in any way I can.” 

The man’s patronizing tone surely didn’t go over his head as Ryan stood with arms crossed, leaning against his desk acting like Fontaine wouldn’t have a choice in his involvement either way. Frank responded again with another nod and turned, rolling his eyes with a smirk and a chuckle just barely concealed. Like hell, he’d let Ryan get involved, if the whole thing was even real to begin with. Guess he’d have to disappoint the man this time. 

Or maybe…maybe they should have a little ceremony - just to fuck with Ryan and the rest of Rapture. Plan something out then call it all off, or make a spectacle of delaying it again and again. It would certainly keep the front page secured for them, and be one hell of a show too hearing the gossip and rumors. 

He smiled to himself at the thought once boarding his bathysphere. Frank wasn’t one for drama, but the entertaining gossip of his and Jane’s situation was starting to grow on him. And while the image sitting in the folder still tucked under his arm lit a dangerous fire within him at first, he couldn’t help but glance at it again. It wasn’t a bad photo. Hell, if it were just for him, he’d stick it in his office back at the complex somewhere - chest going tight at the alluring, piercing stare soaking her hooded honey eyes, gripping him in a chokehold. This photo should just be for him, but he and Jane had a plan to keep to. Even if that meant the entire city seeing this photo in their morning paper tomorrow, with a side of coffee and eggs.

At least they’d all know then that she was his. 

~*~

Jane was grateful the headache had at least subsided, but found to still be a little shaky on her feet and woozy sitting upright. Regardless, she had to move around. Not someone to get sick often, even when she did have the flu as a girl, she was adamant about continuing fishing with her father, or helping her mother around the house. Even if that meant it took longer for her to get over a sickness because she just couldn’t rest. Getting sick as a kid was downright boring, something that unfortunately followed her into adulthood as well. And she found if she could still get up and refill her glass of water, she could get up and do things around the complex. 

Seeing her dawned in a pair of pajamas and her robe, Reggie even heckled her about staying in bed, that he was perfectly fine doing a few of her chores. Jane could only give him a tired, yet appreciative look, and insist she couldn’t stay in bed for another second lest she go insane. Jack had also asked her yesterday if she could help him with his lessons today, and she’d be damned if a hangover was going to keep her from her promise to the kid. 

After a cup of coffee and soup that Reggie had generously reheated for her, the only battle she had to wage against was the brief dizzy spells and on-and-off headache. Although, it appeared the painkillers she had taken just an hour prior were finally kicking in, able to review the math problems Jack was working on with little to no aching distractions. 

“You did really well this time, Jack.” Jane complimented him after only having to mark two of his dozen or so problems wrong. “You almost got it with these two. Do you want to try again?” 

He nodded with a smile, obviously proud of his improvement as he reached for the paper. Jane watched him find the two problems he was so close with and started writing the first again off in the margin. She watched with a fondness lifting her features, always impressed by his hunger for knowledge and wanting to improve each time he got something wrong. He was a quick learner too, especially as his mentality matured. 

As he was finishing with the first problem, Jane caught the sound of the front door groaning, polished Oxfords clacking up each step to the foyer. Holding her tongue, she awaited for what he could possibly say seeing her out of bed and certainly not resting. 

With her seat at the island facing away from the entrance to the kitchen, she didn’t see Frank enter but felt him hovering over her shoulder several seconds after hearing him come in. His breath was soft puffing against the shell of her ear as he all but muttered softly. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, Miss Carter?” 

A huff bled past her lips. “Oh, so we’re using my actual last name now?” 

“Of course,” His breath was gentle along the dip of her shoulder. “‘Cause you’re in trouble this time.” 

“I’m in trouble, huh?” 

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but a manila folder being placed on the countertop to her right was far from anything. It seemed innocent enough, appearing as if barely anything was in it except for a single paperclip holding something inside. 

“Open it.” 

For some reason, the simple invitation had her heart thumping loudly in her chest, and she poked her hands from her robe’s sleeves to open it. Deft fingers suddenly scrambled to lift the photo up and away from Jack, her eyes growing wide in horror. 

“What the fu - where did you get this?!” She hissed, turning to face him as Frank moved to stand on her right. 

“Our dear friend, Andrew Ryan. Courtesy of the Tribune’s weasiliest reporter Stanley Poole.”

She could get sick again, the same acidic taste that had been lingering in the back of her throat all night obvious now and nauseating. “Ryan gave this to you? Why? How - why does he have it?”

Frank leaned against the countertop then, and it boggled her how he could be so calm handing her an intimate photo he just happened to have received from Ryan. 

“Guess Stanley managed to get past Reggie to take this photo. Trust me, I ain’t too happy ‘bout it either, but it makes for a good front pager. An’ it gets you in the spotlight a bit. Not so much with your project, but gotta start somewhere.” 

“A good front pager?” Jane sputtered, slapping the folder closed with a mixture of panic and anger burning her skin. “Frank, you’re not serious, you can’t be serious. I - I was drunk, and you’re just ok with this? With such an intimate photo? What if this ruins me?!” 

She could have slapped the smirk off his face then. “It’s not gonna ruin you. Trust me, I made it clear to Ryan that if I so much as see any damnin’ headline above any photo of you, Sullivan’s gonna have to drain the lower wharf to find all of Ryan’s precious Tribune employees.” 

Jane’s attention suddenly shifted to Jack who still had his head down towards his paper but had stopped writing soon after Frank entered the kitchen. He had been peering up at them from under his brow, listening in but found his eyes to immediately dart down when she glanced at him. It was suddenly apparent her headache was back as well, temples starting to ache with a dull pain, feeling her face flush down to her chest. 

“Frank - “ A hand lifted to rub at her right temple, his name an exasperated huff on her lips as she squeezed her eyes shut. “Please tell me you’re lying, or messing with me.” 

“I told you I’m not.” He leaned over to grab for the folder, “Shit like this was gonna happen eventually, but better now than never. You gotta get used to bein’ in the spotlight now that Ryan considers you a part of his club.” 

Bittersweet words she didn’t have the energy to be hearing at the moment. And certainly, nothing she wanted Jack hearing either. She needed more painkillers anyway, and Jane stood from her stool at the island with a finger crooked towards Frank, free hand grabbing for the folder. 

“Come on. I don’t want to be talking about this in front of Jack. He needs to concentrate on his lessons anyway.” Glancing back over towards the boy, Jack caught her gaze with eyes wide and he immediately ducked back down to his paper with the ghost of a smile barely visible. 

Jane started back towards the stairs as Frank followed. However, he took a second to peek over the kid’s shoulder to see what he was working on and the one math problem he appeared to be stuck on. 

It was simple math, and Frank muttered a quick, “Should be 24.” and Jack turned to him with a small smile. 

“Frank!” Jane called from the foyer and he winked at the kid before patting him on the shoulder and venturing out to accompany her.  

She decided to continue to the bedroom without him, making a bee-line to her nightstand and the bottle of painkillers left for her. Frank entered soon after, leaning against the wall separating the bedroom with arms crossed and attention sitting lazily on her as she downed the pills with a shot of lukewarm water. 

“You have to tell Ryan not to use that photo.” She groaned between the chalky texture of the pills lodging in her throat. “Tell him to use any other from the ceremony or something if he wants to talk about us.” 

Frank clicked his tongue, pacing closer to settle his palms along her shoulders, squeezing them slightly. “Oh, Baby Jane, where’s the fun in that?” 

Her shoulders flexed to try and shake his grip, but he was relenting. “Frank, please. I’m serious.” 

“An’ so am I.” Jane huffed as he turned her to face him, almost going completely lax in his hands once she saw his rather relaxed features. “Look, if you don’t want Ryan to use that photo, I’d be fine if you went an’ told him yourself. But, you’re not Miss Jane Carter, a waitress from a diner anymore now are you?” 

Jane shook her head with a pout, mouth opening to say something - to ask him where this was going - but he cut her off just as quickly. 

“No, you’re the future ”Mrs. Fontaine” who could potentially shoulder Ryan out of his own electrical business. Not to mention capturin’ the hearts of Rapture in the process with your character an’ alleged engagement.” 

She raised a hand to protest, and he continued. “You’re also damn good at your job an’ can probably outsmart any other scientist down there in those labs.” 

Well - she’d exclude Brigid from that list, at least, and her brows twisted in thought as he bowed a bit to search for her eyes. 

“An’ above all that, you’re hidin’ the woman I knew on the surface.” 

Her gaze snapped up to his, cheeks flaring but not from her hangover this time. 

“I - I’m, what?” 

The smirk was slow to lift the corner of his lips. “You’re lyin’ to yourself, Jane.” His voice dipped, so lowly he was practically whispering to her soul. “Probably ever since you came down here. Been wearin’ a mask yourself that you probably didn’t even realize.” 

Regardless of the slight dizziness that followed, she shook her head quickly. “I’m not lying to myself. I’m not…wearing a mask. If anyone, you’d know I’m still the same person.” 

He let go of her shoulders with a brow raised, hands trailing down her arm to gently grab for the folder she still had gripped tight. “I would know, an’ as someone who’s always observin’ the room, I know how much you crave control - especially in that bar.” 

The folder slipped from her fingers with her mouth lolling open. “I know how you basically ran that place, only an idiot wouldn’t see how much you loved it. Puttin’ patrons in their place, commandin’ the space like you owned it.” 

“I had to.” 

“An’ you didn’t like it?” 

Jane lowered her head a bit, staring unseeing at the folder. She couldn’t kid herself. It was one of the few things she had left in her life that she had complete control of, and she held onto it with an iron fist. Every patron in that bar respected her, and not all were welcome if they couldn’t handle the way she ran the place - and the fact that a woman was basically in charge. Most defended her, knowing how capable she was of tossing them out to the curb. And then there were the few who would ridicule her the entire night, telling her she had no place in that bar and was better off tending to her nonexistent husband and children. Those, she took pleasure in adding sand and vinegar to their drinks. 

Of course she liked it. 

Jane watched his free hand reach for her, thumb and forefinger resting on her chin to tilt her attention back up to him; an accusing smile shimmering in his steely eyes before reaching his lips. “You knew Stanley was takin’ that photo, you were lookin’ right at the camera - you posed for it.”  

Immediately defensive, Jane jerked her jaw from his grasp. “And? What if I did?” 

“Then you’re lyin’ to yourself.” He stated confidently not at all offended by the daggers her eyes were actively lodging into his skull. 

“I’m not lying to myself, I just -” Jane took a breath, “Rapture was supposed to be different, ok. I was supposed to be different. Achieve all these life-long goals and still remain…I guess, humble about it.” She backed up to sit on the edge of the mattress, “That bar was a rare space for me to always be the person I kept hidden away. The little girl who lost her mother, the teenager who was ridiculed by friends about not dating much in high school, or not marrying right after graduating. The young woman who watched her father dismiss his wife’s death and marry someone for their looks and physicality. I didn’t want to be her down here.” 

The silence was brief between them, settling in the air like a smog before Frank spoke up. 

“An’ how’s that goin’ for ya?” 

A scoff was sharp to puff past her lips, “It was going well enough!” Jane threw her hands up and towards the folder. “Until this happened!” 

Her head was a heavyweight in her palms, nursing the headache as it throbbed along her temples. Frank was still silent for a bit, just watching her and the way her shoulders sagged under whatever pressure she was distilling on herself. He took a seat next to her on the bed, a hand automatically reaching around her waist, prompting her to rest her head along his shoulders. 

“Hey,” The word was gentle, cooing for her attention again. “Way I see it, this photo is just another way for you to control your image - just like you did at that bar.” 

Jane lifted her head to give him a pointed look from under her lashes, lips pursed in an incredulous pout. He only shrugged and added, “Rapture already sees you as this smart scientist. Creatin’ new solutions, helpin’ out the city, bringin’ two top companies together, right?” 

“What are you getting at?” She cringed inwardly to herself at how hoarse her voice still sounded. 

The smirk was slow to inch along his lips. “Well, put this photo in the Tribune, now Rapture knows you’re a dish an’ smart.” 

“Frank, come on.” Jane couldn’t help but hide the sudden flush to her cheeks, reaching to shove at his arm, very little malice behind the press of her palm against his bicep. 

He returned the light shove with his shoulder back into hers, a light chuckle accompanying it. “Come on, Jane - there’s power in that photo. Ryan might not see it, but you can use it to your advantage.” 

“My advantage, huh?” She gave him a brief sideglance before turning her attention towards her open palms now resting on her lap. “What, use it as a part of myself that’s more of a privilege to see now? Jane ‘an intelligent young woman setting Ratpure on a path to renewable energy, but takes equal pleasure in teasing the masses with her subpar looks and the ring on her finger’ ?” 

The scoff was sudden, “Do I gotta remind you again to stop callin’ yourself average?” Jane gave a halfhearted shrug as Frank sighed. “But yes, exactly that. Just, stop bein’ so goddam humble. You deserve the spotlight, Doll. Deserve the attention an’ to be commandin’ all those sad saps out there, lookin’ for any sort of entertainment to avoid their meanin’less lives.” 

Jane smiled at his words, sounding all too familiar. “You’re talking about your dream again.” 

“And? You don’t want any of that either?” 

The question startled her for a second, never really considering those things as she was trying to portray a more subdued version of herself over the last several years. Deep down, however, she did - she so desperately wanted to be in control of her situation again, in control of those who were practically handing opportunities and “high-class” perks to her on a silver platter. 

“No…no, I - I do.” 

Fogged eyes watched his hand reach for her, intertwining his fingers with her own as he practically whispered. “Then, let Ryan publish this photo - an’ let me give you a few lessons on bein’ arrogant.” He emphasized his last point with a shallow kiss behind her ear. 

She only pondered the option for another few seconds before taking a steady breath. Deciding then and there that she was tired of the constant tears in her eyes, tired of being resistless, done with trying to appease a version of herself that wasn’t even real. 

Jane sat up a bit with her voice finally steady and sure, “You know what - fine. Let Ryan publish the photo, let him say whatever he wants in the article underneath it.” 

The confirmation was a puff of breath against the shell of her ear. “Good.” A faint chuckle followed. “An’ you know, we’re gonna have to start those lessons soon. I’ve already gotta few people from Rapture’s news outlet lookin’ for some interviews.” 

Already? Knitting her brows, Jane leaned into his side. “Alright. And - you’re going to be there with me during these interviews?” 

She felt his lips trail feather-light towards her jawline, “Of course, Doll. Wouldn’t wanna leave you twistin’ in the wind.” 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

Today was certainly new for both of them. And if it wasn’t for the plans he already had in place, Jane almost seemed just as content to go about their day as usual. Like today wasn’t Valentine’s Day. Hell, he even casually mentioned going out for dinner that night with Jane throwing him a confused glance when he added Jack wouldn’t be coming with them. It would have been wrong of him to mess with her and say that all his plans were just for shits and giggles. But, once he mentioned the strict reservation for dinner due to what day it was, Jane had to stumble to regain her grip on her coffee mug before dropping it. Apparently, she’d be content to go about her day as usual because she just flat-out forgot.  

Then, of course, came the slew of obscure comments saying he didn’t need to spend all this money on dinner; that she would be perfectly content on a simple homemade meal tonight. He wasn’t hearing any of it, regardless of the half-assed pleading look to sparkle in her eyes. 

Today was new for them because they’ve never done anything for the holiday - even on the surface. 

In the four years they knew each other above the waves, all the nights he spent at her apartment, all the causal “dates” and long walks along the shore. They never did anything special on the actual holiday itself. Granted, Frank blames the fact that he rarely was ever around during this time, rather saving the trip for her birthday in March. He would acknowledge the holiday now and then, sending her flowers on this special day the last two years before he left for Rapture. 

But, as the years went on and the longer they knew each other, it became apparent rather quickly - especially during the holiday - that they didn’t even know what they were. Were they official? Were they dating? Were they even courting, as Frank knew Jane to be rather old-fashioned in some instances? Never had they once said “I love you” to each other, never had they reserved the holidays for each other and spent countless nights out at fancy restaurants and theaters. They just…were. 

Frank’s visitation were never consistent, but even when he did venture back to that little port in Maine, they’d meet up and continue life as if he’d never left; as if he hadn’t been gone for the last few months. And even if he could only stay for a couple of weeks, every second was cherished. Every little moment was a staple in whatever sort of relationship they had. Those nightly walks, those jokes, and stories shared in the bar, every breakfast she made in her tiny apartment kitchen, every whisper hanging in the air above them and in the moonlight soaking the sheets of her queen bed. Every drink, every footprint left in the sand, every kiss etched into her skin as he’d pull her away from her classwork in the dead of night. No words could be spoken, yet he’d know every emotion swimming in those honey pools. No labels and she knew she was special, someone whom he’d only ever returned to again and again. 

They just were. 

And he wanted all of that again, to have all that they had on the surface, even if it was just for today. 

~

Frank’s bone-deep desire also didn’t seem to give a shit about anyone else today. Of course, in the privacy of his complex, he gifted Jack with a new high-end sports jacket and shoes - since the kid was outgrowing any shoe they got for him within a couple of weeks. And also generously gave Reggie the day off to enjoy it with a certain person Jane might have introduced him to after the new year. But, even as he and Jane arrived at the Futuristics, he couldn’t find any sort of control in keeping his damn hands to himself. Even with the rest of Rapture assuming their “engagement”, and the physical affection rather expected; he couldn’t help the way his hand would linger on her hip before she departed for the labs or the way his breath staggered when she pulled away from their routine kiss goodbye. 

God, he just wanted her, in the center of their bed - panting and whining beneath him as he worshipped every inch of her. 

Later. He had to be patient. Even as she’d give him an innocent look, rather oblivious to his inner turmoil, before disappearing into the tunnel system leading to the labs. 

Needless to say, the rest of the day dragged on. At one point, he even called down to the labs, asking for Jane to come up to his office to “show her an important ad”. Of course, Jane wasn’t as oblivious as he maybe thought she was, stating with a rather confident, sickly sweet tone soaking the honey dulcet of her voice. 

“Frank, you know, absence makes the heart grow fonder.” 

And hung up. 

He scowled, out loud, to himself and accidentally slammed the phone back onto the receiver. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he reached for a cigar in the top drawer of his desk. Instead of the anger lingering, as it usually would, he felt the rampant emotion flutter in his chest - a warmth emanating from it and numbing his hands a bit. Excitement? Eagerness? Delirium? Fucking intoxication? Whatever it was, it had him practically starving for what he had in store for them tonight. Adding to the overall image of her at his mercy. Absence, huh? She’d have to be prepared then for an onslaught tonight. A decades’ worth he wishes to repay her, a life they once lived he wants to remind her of. 

And with hands slightly shaking, he lit the cigar and drew in the earthy citrus, letting the smoke settle in his lungs before exhaling just as deeply. 

~ 

The workday alone could have made up for two, and if it wasn’t for a damn call he had to take within minutes of leaving his office, it would have been over a helluva lot sooner. Frank’s skin felt like it was crawling, itching along every inch in anticipation and, dare he say, nerves? Ever since deciding he wanted to be a little nostalgic for dinner tonight, it felt as if a whole new energy selected to settle within him. Jane must have also assumed something similar, resorting to her teasing nature the longer the day went on - a characteristic she loved utilizing with him at the bar especially. She’d stand just an inch or two out of his reach in the bathysphere on the way home, forcing him to move closer, to chase her. Or walking just slightly quicker than him to their bedroom to change. And while he didn’t expect her to know what he had planned tonight, deciding on what to wear days prior, he may have treated her to a shopping spree this past weekend - as a part of his “gift” to her today. She had been more than thrilled to venture to the High Street after and treat herself to a plethora of new dresses. 

There was one dress in particular he was hoping she’d decide to wear tonight, a dotted pastel pink number with a small bow in the back. She had been rather excited to leave her dressing room at Luxe Label to show him, twirling a bit to show off the delicate ruffling at the bottom that sat just below her knees. Lottie had looked on with a beaming smile as Jane swayed with the fabric in front of the floor-length mirror. Frank couldn’t disguise the look of adoration if he tried, catching himself in the mirror and clearing his throat rather abruptly when Lottie bounded closer to ask if she should add this dress to the rack as well. He was quick to say yes when Jane shot him a pleading glance. 

Standing at the bottom of the stairs with a close eye on his watch, Frank gripped the suit jacket in his hands. He had a reservation at the Tea Garden, opting for a more casual look and debating on even bringing his jacket. However, with a bit of movement at the top of the stairs catching in his peripheral, all thoughts had blanked completely. 

Jane had decided on the pink dress, her smile glowing as she carefully paced down the steps in a white pair of heels. The shoes clacked against the wood until she was standing in front of him, fixing the pearl earrings and matching necklace with a light chuckle. 

“I didn’t think I’d leave you speechless.” She teased, poking a finger at his arm and adjusting the small purse on her shoulder. “Are you ready?” 

Words couldn’t find themselves on his tongue and he nodded instead. Giving their quick goodbyes to Jack, with Jane promising the boy they’ll take him out to his favorite restaurant tomorrow night, they departed on the bathysphere for Arcadia. 

Now, the Tea Garden was always busy during Valentine’s Day. A bunch of love-sick gents taking any random Betty out - whom they had probably met just days prior - to the one overly romantic location in Rapture. Frank’s never been the sort, but has seen all the hype first-hand the few times he does venture to Arcadia - mostly to meet with Tenenbaum as she preferred the outdoorsy atmosphere on the occasion to talk about the ADAM and plasmid production. It usually got him out of the office and the four steel walls that occasionally felt like they were suffocating him. So, he couldn’t complain. 

For today, however, not wanting the odd stares and uncomfortable proximity of a few buzzed idiots looking to get laid; Frank had reserved a small table on a balcony overlooking the Tea Garden. And he was even more pleased to find the balcony was shaded by a few trees - some were even weeping willows - Jane’s favorite. 

“Oh, Frank -” Jane’s words sounded breathless as they found their table with the help of another Houdini waiter, taking their drinks before even sitting down and disappearing in a red flash. 

The table had been set for them, a vase of white roses sitting in the center with a bottle of wine in an ice bucket - if they chose to partake after their cocktails. The willow’s branches surrounded the balcony almost like a curtain, a few delicate flowers still speckled amongst the green from when the tree had blossomed. Lights from the balcony’s entrance encased the area in a soft, warm glow - appearing dream-like, unreal. 

Back on the surface, they had gone to a nearby park for a picnic, finding refuge under a weeping willow. It wasn’t identical to a T but came very close, the tears pricking Jane’s eyes for a few seconds confirming he came damn near close. 

Once the waiter returned with their drinks, he confirmed their meals tonight - having been put in when Frank made the reservation - and left in another blaze of fiery red. However, instead of sitting right away, they opted to stand along the balcony and watch the crowd below, weaving beneath the willow’s dangling branches. Jane had one arm hooked within his, their elbows against the balcony’s railing as she leaned against him. A deep sigh was felt from the small rise and fall of her shoulder after a generous sip of her fruity mix, his name a whisper on her lips. 

“Frank, this is all so wonderful, but you know you didn’t have to do any of this.” He turned with his gaze snagging on her own. “You know I would have been content with a simple night in.” 

“I know.” He chuckled, splitting his thoughts with a sip of his whiskey. “You deserve more than simple tonight, Doll. Wanna give you what we never had on the surface.” 

Her laugh fogged the rim of her glass. “Even what we had then was perfect. Simple, but perfect.” 

“But we could’ve had more.” 

Frank wasn’t expecting the curve to her brow at his words. “More? What more could we have had? I never expected more because of what you did, because you came and went so often.” She must have noticed the solemn lilt to her voice then, his brows furrowing to match. “We could have had more, yes. But, I was content just to have you the moments I did. We’d have been sitting on the beach just watching the waves, and that’s all I could have ever wanted.” 

Jane leaned forward a bit to nuzzle her nose against his, the strawberry in her drink tantalizing on her breath. “As long as you were there, that’s all I needed.” 

Maybe they just were because of that. Because the line between them was so fragile. Because all it took was a spontaneous decision to venture down to an underwater city, a decision that was enough to sever that line for a decade. Jane thought he was dead. Frank thought she would’ve moved on. 

And yet, here they are. 

He’d have to be completely insane to let her go this time. 

“I’m here.” A whisper. “Let me make these past several years up to you.” His fingers brushed against the sapphire sparkling on her hand as he spoke. “Because I love you.” 

And it terrified him to the core at how much he cared and loved this woman. Knowing, however, she never gave him a reason to second guess these feelings; even if they were emotions he’s locked so far down as to not interfere with his growing selfishness, cons, scams, and alternative lives. 

Although, he couldn’t be a different person around her if he tried. And he had. 

The cracks in her voice broke her response, but the weak, “I love you too.” was enough for his thumb and forefinger to lift to her chin, pulling her closer. The kiss was lined with a sharp edge of desperation, but slow and deliberate with a hum of satisfaction to rumble from her. 

Within a few seconds after they separated, the waiter returned - without much warning - with their meals in hand. And while they were reluctant to part for a second, the smell of the food alone was enough to steer them back to the table. The waiter disappeared just as quickly, leaving them to enjoy their food with the slight chatter of the tables below and live music echoing over the loudspeakers scattered amongst the garden. Now the atmosphere was quite romantic, the tastefully slow jazz, the haze of lights, the lingering smell of floral notes everywhere they went, and the remarkable food were all details to marvel at. But, as it was just them sitting there, giggling and laughing around forkfuls as they’d reminisce over stories and events on the surface, memories from the bar, and recounts of how Frank had almost dropped Jane in an oncoming wave as he was swinging her around in the ocean; it was simple but perfect. 

As they finished with their meals, quite content and on their second refills, Frank took a second to drink in the woman across the table from him. Her cheeks started to take on a slightly pink tint from the alcohol, something he relished in as it made the few freckles along her nose pop. She’d always get a bit more giggly as well, her smile gleaming and brightening the space around her. Her bobbed auburn hair was curled and half-done up with some simple braids along the sides, a few fraying strands already coming loose as the night went on. But she was beautiful regardless, especially in the soft pink that rounded out all the jagged edges of her personality - edges, he learned, she kept hidden quite well. 

She must have noticed him staring halfway through another story she was recounting, a memory of when he made a surprise visit after a horrible week of classes and incessant ridicule from some of her male classmates. It only made him scoff, how impertinent these assholes sounded, and she took a slow drink from her glass, finishing off her second round. 

“Want another?” Frank nodded towards the empty glass. Shaking her head, Jane sat a little straighter in her seat, eyeing her nearly empty plate. 

“I’m alright. I was - um - thinking we could walk around Arcaida for a bit? I know I’m here so often, but mostly to shop at the Market. I don't think I’ve ever taken the time to see the parks and greenery here.” 

The smile drew lazily across his lips, lifting his head from where he’d been resting his chin on his palm. “Whatever you wanna do, Baby Jane.” He stretched his arms over his head, already feeling his words slur a bit, and agreed he was done after this second round as well. “I made no other plans except for later t’night.” 

“Later tonight?” She shot him a quizzical look, lips curling into a coy smile. “I mean…if you wanted to head back early -” 

He held a hand up to stop her. “Nope. We’re doin’ what you wanna do. An’ if you wanna see Arcadia, I’d be perfectly fine with that.” 

It was slightly unusual for her to not argue back, pointing out that this holiday was meant for the both of them. However, she must have assumed then and there that whatever he was hinting at later tonight, would be his turn - and she bit the inside of her cheek to try and conceal the smile at what she had in store for him. 

~

After paying for the dinner, they left the Tea Garden hand-in-hand, Jane immediately dragging him towards the entrance to the rest of Arcadia. It was almost like letting a kid loose in a candy store as Jane tugged him along a winding path that led them deeper and deeper into the maze of trees. Stone paths popped up here and there that they followed, the babbling of a nearby stream flowing next to the path as Jane moved to hook her arm within his own, her free hand resting against his bicep. Her attention was trained upwards for a majority of the time, admiring the plethora of flowers and creeping vines lining the walls, the mixture of stone and wood peaking between the leaves. 

It was also one of those situations where Frank would have kept his attention on every passer-by, leveling them with a stare if they dared to whisper amongst themselves about the pair. Instead, he tried to relax, staying in the moment the best he could without the influence of Fontaine harrowing over his shoulder. He also couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, her enthusiasm infectious as she’d point out a few fish species in the stream or plant species sprinkled here and there. He found her mother was the botanist in the family, always gardening and experimenting with different plant species in the cooler Maine climate. 

And as they ventured along the paths as if they had all the time in the world, Frank found himself giving less of a shit if the people walking behind them were whispering; or if the people in front of them were doing double-takes. The only thing that mattered at this moment was the woman hanging from his arm, talking to him about different small shark species and how Arcadia’s stream might benefit from having them as a part of the small ecosystem. He’s only been able to retain little from all the different facts she’s told him over the years, he only knew talking about the ocean made her happy, so he’d let her and he’d listen. 

It had to have been a couple of hours later when they found themselves back towards the front entrance of Arcadia, Jane hinting at her heels starting to bother her feet, constantly stopping to fix her shoes. However, he did his damnest to distract her from the pain, placing an occasional kiss or two along her temple and pulling her into little corners of Arcadia to capture her lips, littering frenzied kisses along the column of her neck and jawline. It was just a taste of what he had in store for her later, and she must have gotten the hint if their quickened pace back towards the bathysphere didn’t already give it away.  

They didn’t waste any time getting back to the complex, Jane already discarded her shoes before they even made it inside. And making sure Jack was in bed with how late it was, Frank headed straight for the bedroom while Jane fretted over whether the kid had dinner or not. He discarded his suit jacket onto the loveseat, questioning why he even brought it in the first place, not wearing it at all in Arcadia’s warmer controlled climate. Next was his tie, already loosening it a bit when he heard the bedroom door creaking open, and the smile was quick to line his face. 

“Frank - “ Her voice echoed against the windows, a haunting melody that sent a chill down his spine as he watched her peek around the corner and into the bedroom. 

However, seeing him with his tie in hand elicited a click of her tongue and a disapproving head shake. Jane paced over towards him, tossing her heels off along the loveseat with a hand reaching out to replace his own along the silk navy fabric. Deft fingers curled around the article, tugging him closer and he couldn’t help but follow. 

“Not saving the best part for me?” The effect her pout had on him was instantaneous, going lax but immediately tensing with the disappointed tone. 

His response was all but muttered. “Not entirely.” And yet, the look she shot him then was accusing as she lifted the tie already half done. All it needed was a good yank and it’d be on the floor next to them. 

Doing just that, Jane was careful to slip the tie from around his collar, wrapping it around her hand before letting it fall to the ground in a heap. Her fingers were feather-light, skimming the buttons of his shirt with her face twisted slightly in thought. 

“Should I let you have your gift first?” She let the idea slip, golden eyes raising to snag his with a brow quirked. 

His gift? He honestly wasn’t expecting she’d have anything for him, especially if it seemed she had forgotten about the holiday altogether just this morning. But, he couldn’t argue and gave a slight shrug in response with a whispered, “If you’d like.” 

She took his hands then, leading him over to the edge of the bed and motioning for him to sit. His curiosity was piqued once he was settled and she took a few steps back from him. Frank watched with a narrow gaze, eyes following every small movement of her hand to the bow at the back of her dress, untying it until the fabric sat loose along her sides. The zipper was next, fingers taking their time in pulling it down to relieve herself of the garment. 

The pastel pink dropped to her ankles, revealing a black laced lingerie set he’d definitely not seen before. The smirk was instant, a heat settling low in his gut as his knees parted, reaching for her to come closer. She obliged and stood between his legs, his palms light on her waist as he trailed his eyes lazily along every little detailing of the lace, and every exposed part of her the minimal fabric neglected to cover. 

“Damn, lookatchu.” The whistle was low to slide past his lips, hands running the length of her sides, feeling the goosebumps rising under his touch. “You had this on all day?” 

“Not all day. Just for dinner. I thought it’d go well with the dress.” 

It was a whirlwind for sure. He couldn’t get over how adorable she was in the dress, the pastel pink bringing out a more cutesy and dainty character with each excited remark she’d made throughout dinner about the Garden or Arcadia. To go from that to the deep black of the lingerie underneath? It’s almost as if her entire personality shifted, her darkened gaze meeting his under the black of her lashes. And it solidified his confidence in the plans he had for her tonight. 

He wanted to break her down, wanted to strip everything away until she was left shaking with such raw pleasure. Reminding her how beautiful she is, how intelligent, how resilient she is. How she deserves a delicious dinner at a romantic venue like the Tea Garden. How she deserves to be spoiled and treated to a new dress and jewelry. How she deserves to be ravaged, to be worshiped. 

And he didn’t think to waste a second longer in denying her a special night. 

It wasn’t much of a challenge, but he eventually coaxed her up onto the bed, removing all his clothes until he was down to just his boxer briefs. And just as he was kicking his pants off to the side, his attention snagged the tie still strewn about on the floor and an idea flickered on like a bulb. He retrieved the tie and did a few double-takes, glancing from the deep navy fabric to Jane who sat up on her elbows watching him. She was quick to read his thoughts as he stepped closer to the side of the bed again, holding up the tie with a silent question hanging in the air above them. She took a shuttering breath before nodding, the ghost of a smile pricking at her lips as he crawled up and onto the bed towards her. 

“If you’re good, you won’t wear it for long.” He whispered, breath hot against the shell of her ear as he gathered both her wrists together above her head with one of his larger hands. The other carefully intertwined the tie around her wrists until they were bound tight, but still giving her room to twist her wrists around and break free - if she wanted. 

Frank could tell his words settled deep though, her lashes fluttering under the weight of them and she went slack beneath him. 

“Is this what you had in mind for tonight?” Her question was exhaled between painted lips, sounding breathless already and he reveled in the sound. 

Sitting back on his knees for a second, he studied his handiwork before crawling forward again to lean over her, lips back along her jawline as he hummed at her question. “Not exactly, but it works.” His lips descended, deciding not to cater to the purse of her mouth, awaiting a kiss she wouldn’t have expected him to deny her. 

Deciding to also leave the lingerie on - for now - Frank delved to carve a path along the column of her throat, teeth scrapping skin ever so slightly as he already started to feel her squirm under him. Her hips canted up suddenly as he sucked a few marks just under her jaw, tongue hot and tasting the sweet notes her perfume had left on her skin. He used the arm not supporting him above her to grip at her hips, pushing them back down onto the already ruffled comforter. 

“Ah - good girls move when I say.” He growled rather harshly into the junction of her neck and shoulder, his grip a reflection of his gritty tone. “You’re gonna let me worship you t’night. Let me break you down until there’s nothin’ left but my name on those lips.” 

The gasp was so soft, so sudden as his words etched themselves around her collarbone like they were a necklace strung with iron clasps. They burned, they singed, they marked her so tenderly yet so deeply she’d feel the ache for days. She was a goddess he’d gladly put on a pedestal, for now, it was proving to her her worth. 

Her nod of approval at his plans tugged at the corner of his lips and he continued his descent down her body, stopping to suck more marks into various places that would be easily covered, and others she’d have to get a bit creative in hiding. Lips eventually brushed fabric, the black lace of her bra that contrasted intensely against the cream coloring of her skin. Being that he had only turned on the bedside lamp before she entered the bedroom, the lace blended in with the dark bedsheets, melting off into the moonless light flooding the empty space around them. It was only her beneath him as every other molecule of reality fell away, her chest heaving already at his teasing touches, hands refusing to give her what she wanted - at this moment, anyway. 

The heat that had been slowly building within him finally broke away to something feral, bubbling over at the sight of her lying there at his mercy. And heaven or hell take him, she was beautiful. 

Lowering himself a bit, he coaxed her thighs apart with calloused hands for him to sit between, her knees bent and raised to cage him in. He skipped down to trail his lips along her stomach, palms holding her sides steady as he nipped smaller marks along the planes of a fuller form. He’s ensured she’s been eating well recently, with all the running around she’s been doing at the labs and in the complex. It wasn’t something she took to at first, with more than a few complaints thrown his way about how she wanted the slightly fuller figure she had in her early years of college but not wanting to go overboard. She was healthy, active, and barely changed in her dress sizes; but the extra parts of her he could grab by the handfuls - her ass, her hips, her thighs - only enticed the repetitive thoughts of mine when he’d find those moments to just hold her. 

This moment was certainly one for the books as his hands traced the curve of her waist to her hips, eyes drinking in all he could of her body beneath the contrast of black lace and patterned flowers. His icy gaze flickered up to see how she was fairing so far, her cheeks tinted pink and mouth agape - gasping and panting with each explorative touch. He hadn’t stopped to appreciate her like this in a decade, and yet time didn’t dare to leave its mark on her. 

With attention slipping down to the heat obvious in his lap, it took all his self-discipline to ignore the tightening of his briefs to instead focus on her. A subtle whine spilled from her lips then, his name drawn out in a shallow inhale as his hand reached to drag two fingers along the crotch of her lace underwear. A groan erupted from his throat, hooded eyes sharp along her features as he hooked her attention - daring her to let go. She was soaking. 

“You’re always so goddam wet for me, baby.” He made a point by pressing further into the fabric, stroking in shallow movements as her hips jerked. “An’ I haven’t even done anythin’ yet.” 

The sucking breath he watched her inhale was suddenly cut off by his thumb on her clit, tears pricking her eyes but no resolve broken just yet. “If you wanna break me, you’ll have to take me to the edge and yank me back.” She paced, voice small and cracking under the weight - but still challenging him. 

Frank raised a brow at that, studying her features and the flush that ran from her cheeks to her chest. Her arms started shaking a bit as well with the static position being held over her head, and yet he could also discount it to nerves, and anticipation as he made a show of peeling the hem of her underwear down from her hips. It took a bit of maneuvering after but he finally had the fabric off and next to him on the mattress, back between her bent knees as he leaned forward to press a palm into the bed next to her waist. His opposite palm gripped her outer thigh, pulling her wider as he watched her lashes flutter again, his cock now pressing into her with the thin fabric of his briefs separating them. 

He held her gaze for a second, her honied eyes darkened with pupils blown wide. “Is that what you want?” 

She nodded again, frantically with fingers flexing into each other between the tie still wrapped tightly around her wrists. Frank huffed, the scoff just barely puffing past his lips as he leaned in, his mouth inches from her own. The hand that had a grip on her thigh lowered to trace over her pelvis, dipping without preamble to slip two fingers into her dripping folds. The sigh to melt past her lips settled on his own as he hooked the two fingers inside her, stroking up and pushing deeper at the same time. The pained sound she made then would have concerned him if he wasn’t already watching her like a hawk. Her brows creased, but her mouth fell open in a pitched moan as he repeated the action. 

“You’re gonna tell me when you’re close, ok?” 

Another nod, this one interrupted by his thumb adding to the mix, rolling over the sensitive bud of her clit as he curled and thrust his fingers again. Her arms buckled, hands reaching to grab fistfuls of the comforter beneath her as her chest arched up into his. However, no matter how badly he wanted to tease her further, shove down one cup to her lace bra, and leave more marks along her breast; he had to keep his focus. Although, he was getting rather impatient as well, knowing he could tease her just as well with his cock…

“F - Frank -” Her sputtering pulled him from his thoughts, her hips twitching and canting up with the next thrust of his fingers. “Clo - close.” 

He stopped altogether, fingers stilling within her and her eyes shot open, a guttural noise bubbling from her chest. Her walls spasmed and pulsed for a couple of seconds around his fingers, and he shushed her, the palm that had been supporting him above her moving to steady him on his elbow. Kissing along her temple, his fingers combed through her hair to soothe. 

“Good girl. Tell me again when you’re close.” 

Without warning, he started his finger's movement again, but she was already hard-strung, building to her orgasm quicker this time. And right when she was on the cusp, she didn’t even need to tell him, the tightening around his fingers forcing him to stop again and withdraw almost completely. She had still opened her mouth to tell him, but her body was quicker to the punch. 

Giving her less time to recover, he entered her again, adding a third finger this time as his lips settled along her forehead to whisper words of encouragement and filth. Although, the obscene squelching of his fingers thrusting around her gushing core only seemed to spur her on, combined with his whispered, “You’re doin’ so well. So beautiful, so good for me, Baby Jane.” A sudden hitch of her breath matched the jolt of her hips and he doubled down, finally capturing her lips in a bruising kiss once noticing a few tears stream down her face. And finally giving her permission to cum, he swallowed the strangled cry to tear from her throat, fingers working her through her orgasm as her hips ground into his palm. 

But he didn’t stop. Even as she started to squirm under him, repetitive gasps pleading for him to stop with her thighs starting to quiver around his hand. If he learned anything from the first time they had sex down here, it was that she had more to give, but he had stopped too short to chase his own pleasure. Eventually, the babbling and pleas bled into pitched moans as her hips worked in time with his fingers. And no later, with his thumb rolling her clit again, did she still with a broken cry - convulsing under him and eyes staring unseeing towards the ceiling. 

He was feeling greedy though. “Good girl. Good fucking girl, Jane. Come on, you can give me one more.” 

It took a second for her eyes to focus, rolling back into her head with more tears to stream her cheeks. 

“I - I can’t.” She choked around the cracks in her voice. 

“Yes, you can.” He growled, biting along her neck and pulling his fingers from her, trailing her wetness along the inside of her thigh. “What if I gave you somethin’ better than my fingers?” 

Taking a few deep breaths, he watched her struggle with her position for a second, lifting her hands as if she wanted to wipe the tears from her eyes, but remembering her hands were currently bound. Instead, he brought a hand up to wipe at the tears for her, her skin sweltering under his fingers as he lowered his hand to cup her jaw, his thumb swiping over her lower lip. She eventually nodded at his question, and another idea was quick to help her up and rearrange her, untying her hands at the same time as he placed a series of kisses along her wrists. He motioned for her to lie on her stomach then, and she followed. Frank situated himself between her thighs again, guiding one leg up to bend at her waist, and watched her throw him a smile over her shoulder. 

Her favorite position, one he treated her to at least once each time he visited her on the surface. 

Now ridding himself of his briefs, he was quick to situate himself behind her, hands slipping beneath her hips and lifting them just slightly to enter her from behind. Jane had spread her arms out along the comforter in front of her, gripping at the fabric with his hands reflecting the same hold on her hips. He tried, he tried so hard to keep the pace unhurried, to draw back and feel every inch of her before thrusting in at a tantalizing rate - forcing her to slow down and feel the same. With each thrust, however, he could tell he was hitting the right spot as she writhed beneath him, hands flexing with aching moans to tumble and soak into the mattress. It didn’t take long before she cried his name again, the noise muffled by the sheets as she turned her head to pant and squeeze her eyes shut. He almost slowed to a complete stop as her entire body started to shake and pulse, legs visibly vibrating, especially the one drawn up to her side. 

Leaning down to press a few biting kisses along her shoulder, Frank chuckled darkly. “I don’t care if your legs are fuckin’ shakin’, Baby Jane. I ain’t done with you yet.” 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

The deep breath motion he subtly implied from beyond the set’s stage prompted a slow inhale on her part, desperately exhaling all the tension that had built along her shoulders. A slight warmth had already begun to creep along her chest as well, the spotlights beating down on the stage from above as the news crew rushed around. Someone had skittered up to her seat at some point, fixing her hair and makeup before jumping across to the woman sitting in the armchair opposite of her. She had also about exhausted her internal script as the crew finally fell into position to start the morning’s broadcast, cameras and machinery whirring to life with all lenses pointed towards her and the show’s host. 

The woman, Linda was her name, gave a quick smile towards Jane - the expression barely reaching her eyes before she turned all attention towards the cameras. With a nod and a final countdown from the cameramen and director, Jane held her breath with a final glance toward Frank. 

“Hello, and good morning Rapture!” The woman’s voice flowed with confidence as the director motioned towards her, confirming they were live. “I’m Linda Hayes from the Rapture Herald. Now, before we get into today’s rather exciting segments, Andrew Ryan wanted to extend a brief message about tonight’s upcoming pigskin game between the Stingers and Sea Bulls. While drinks are allowed in the stadium, public intoxication outside of the stadium is highly discouraged due to the police’s involvement during the last game. Anyone who doesn’t comply will be apprehended.” 

Jane caught Frank subtly lifting his hand to conceal a smirk, and she couldn’t help the smile dawn on her face for a brief second before Linda started speaking again. 

“Now, we have some exciting segments for you today from news about the Apollo Square protestors to a special interview with Rapture’s very own Power Gal! We’ll do a deep dive with her into the process and success of her ADAM project along with some exclusive details about her most recent engagement.” 

Power Gal…Jane couldn’t help but knit her brows just slightly. That was new. 

“But first, Miss Hartley herself!” 

All attention turned to her then, and Jane stiffened her spine, the smile sudden and forced as the crew clapped behind the cameras. Her eyes zipped over to Frank just beyond Linda, his slow nod reminding her all that he had gone over with her the days before this interview. Start with a deep breath, steel your nerves, and talk like the camera’s not even there. 

“Hi, Linda.” She started with attention focusing back on the woman in front of her. “It’s great to be here with you this morning.” Just have a normal conversation. The camera, the stage, the crew? They’re not even there. 

The other woman relaxed a bit as well, returning the smile that sparkled a bit in her eyes this time before glancing at the questions she had written down in her hands. 

“Likewise, Miss Hartley! Now, I’m sure there are a bunch of questions our audience would like you to answer, but we’re going to start with what got you out on the front page of the Tribune.” 

Thank god. She probably couldn’t handle any questions regarding her and Fontaine, or the most recent Tribune photo, right off the bat. 

Luckily, Linda started with a few questions regarding herself, and what her educational background was. From there, Jane was able to transition into the systems project and where her inspiration came from to even consider such a monumental advancement to Rapture. Granted, it wasn’t that monumental of a change, until Jane remembered she was trying to be less humble and casually commented that it wasn’t monumental yet. Wait until her ADAM resource takes over the entire electrical grid. 

This earned a hearty laugh from Linda and the crew, even spotting the ghost of a smile from Frank as he stood with arms crossed, leaning against her studio chair. 

Everything shifted then. From the intense heat of the studio lights above to the leering presence of the multiple camera lenses circling her and Linda. Her shoulders sagged a bit, relaxing under the practiced lilt of the other woman’s words and comments about her project and ambitions for Rapture. This must have been why Jane didn’t flinch as hard when the fatal topic was finally addressed already 20 minutes into the half-hour live interview. 

“This is all incredibly fascinating, Miss Hartley. I’m actually excited myself to see where your impact goes within Rapture and its electrical use - hopefully in a positive and more sustainable direction!” Linda’s smile was beaming, and while Jane was able to pick up on the mask the news anchor wore for the camera, this felt personal and she returned the smile with an added light chuckle. 

“But,” Linda started again, flipping through the last few pages of her notes. “Of course, we all know what our viewers are here for, and that’s to finally get some answers from the very fiancée of one of Rapture’s most influential men.” 

The woman set the pile of notes back onto her lap, folding her hands and placing her chin to rest against her knuckles as she leaned forward a bit. Jane couldn’t help but mirror her actions - as if they were two schoolgirls ready to talk gossip over who they saw talking to who in the hallway that morning. The rapid fluttering of her heart, however, still made her keenly aware of the several thousand pairs of eyes watching and listening in on their exchange. 

“So, is it true? Are you engaged to Fontaine?” 

Jane sat up a bit with her hands clasping her raised knee, adjusting her skirt draped over her legs with her attention dropping for a second. Part of it was to keep her appearance for the camera, the other reason was to hide the overwhelming flood of emotion enveloping her in that moment. A piece of her character she’s kept hidden away for so many years suddenly fell into place, a part that was smug and smart with her bar patrons, yet saccharine and still undoubtedly appealing. And she’s never felt so sure of herself in that moment and her answer. 

After clicking her tongue, she smiled, all sugar and honey as she stated. “Yes, it is true. I am engaged to Fontaine. Of course, I’m sure it might have been rather obvious from the last Tribune article that made the front page, but I can certainly understand the satisfaction of a confirmation coming from the source.” 

Linda’s jaw had lolled open at one point, brilliant green eyes going wide at Jane’s words - yet her conflicting features suggested she knew the answer when she asked the question but was still understandably surprised. Jane had also watched a few of the cameramen and director glance over toward Frank who still stood by her studio chair with arms crossed and expression rather unphased. His attention was still trained on her, however, and a brief smile caught his lips when they finally made eye contact. 

“Well there you have it, folks!” Linda switched her attention towards the camera, holding her incredulous brow raise and a palm outstretched towards Jane. “From the woman herself! You know - “ She could have gotten whiplash from how quickly the news anchor was going to and from the camera. “I knew it all along. The articles, the rumors, I knew something had to be going on but to hear it from you, wow!” 

Jane couldn’t help the half-hearted shrug in response, a chuckle bubbling from her chest with a warmth feathering her cheeks. 

“So, what’s it like?” Linda was quick to tack onto her last comment, leaning in over her notes again. “I mean, certainly Rapture knows Fontaine’s not the most approachable person. What’s it like being engaged to him?” 

She almost wasn’t expecting the serious set to Frank’s features, standing just beyond Linda’s hunched form and the stage. Leveling her with a stare that suggested she be careful with her next comments, for both their sake. Jane practiced this, however, went over about a dozen different answers to questions Linda might have for her, regarding the engagement especially. 

The curling smile and brow raise as her immediate response was enough to garner a similar one from Linda, the woman gathering enough context from her look alone as she sat up straight in her chair. 

“Ooo, do tell, Miss Hartley.” 

“He’s definitely a handful.”Jane started, clasping both her hands against her knee as she folded one over the other. “But there’s certainly more than meets the eye, if you’re willing to look deep enough.” 

A low jab, and technically not a lie. She experienced as much trying to decipher Fontaine as he let her stay in his home, trust her with Jack, and so on. Although, it felt a tad unfair, being she knew the man beneath the mask. And while Hartley was still the occasional handful - there was so much to his character, his past, his experiences. Fontaine was just scratching the surface. 

The smirk was slow to curl Linda’s rosy lips. “Well then, I suppose that’s why we have you, to do all the deep soul-searching, huh?” 

Jane’s gaze trailed lazily over towards the cameras, tilting her head a bit with a small smile. “I suppose if that’s what the rest of Rapture wants.” Throwing the camera a subtle wink, she turned back to Linda with a shrug. “Mind you, Fontaine and I certainly have a right to our privacy. And while I’d be happy to disclose some information here and there - I won’t be able to spill everything at the moment. Where’s the fun in spoiling everything right here, right now? ” 

She must have hit the right cord as an approving nod caught in her peripherals. 

“Oh, absolutely - of course, Miss Hartley.” Linda shuffled through her notes before straightening them on her lap. “Definitely a conversion we’ll have to continue for another time as we are - unfortunately - all out of time!” Giving one last smile, the anchor turned back towards the camera. “Well there you have it, a riveting confirmation we’ve all been waiting for, the rumors most certainly proving to be true. Thank you again, Miss Hartley, for joining us today!” Linda swept another hand toward Jane as she nodded at the cameras as well. “Hopefully we’ll see you here again soon for another segment, but in the meantime, stay tuned for more news on the continuing Apollo Square riots and Ryan’s comments on the matter with the Express’ updated schedule after the commercial break. Thank you, I’m Linda Hayes, Rapture Herald.” 

A few seconds passed as Jane held her breath, her face starting to hurt with the smile stretching her features before the director confirmed they were no longer live. Her shoulders immediately sagged with the bustling of the crew picking up behind the cameras, one woman even slinking to the stage again to fix Linda’s hair. The anchor swapped out the current stack of notes on her lap for another sitting below the small table between their armchairs, thumbing through them as Frank stepped up to the front of the stage. His presence must have been heavy enough for Linda to pause and turn to him and Jane. 

“Oh! There you are! I was wondering if you’d join us up here or not.” Linda was quick to stand, setting her notes aside as Jane stood as well, legs a bit wobbly from sitting on her nerves. 

The woman immediately stretched a hand out toward the tycoon, Frank giving her an apprehensive tongue-in-cheek glance before a slight grin broke his features, his palm reaching to shake hers. “Not this time. This was Jane’s segment, didn’t wanna take the spotlight from her.” 

“Well she did wonderfully, my boss was already talking to me this morning about potentially bringing her back for more interviews.” 

Jane was careful stepping down from the stage, trying to regain some of the feeling in her legs. However, the news of more potential interviews snagged her attention from the steps, her heel catching the edge as she jilted forward. A palm suddenly shot out to Frank’s shoulder with his reaction time just as quick, his hands grabbing for her waist to steady her next to him; Linda also appeared as if she was ready to reach for her. If the flush to her cheeks wasn’t already obvious from sitting under the beating stage lights, she had to be bright red now with the embarrassment of almost falling off the goddamn stage. 

And it took every ounce of control to not shove her face into his shoulder to hide the flaring of her cheeks and ears. God, what happened to the person sitting up on that stage just moments ago? 

“Should be fine.” He stated rather nonchalantly. “As long as Jane’s ok with it.” 

Her voice cracked between the squeaky “Y - yeah - “ And she quickly cleared her throat. “I mean, yes. I’m ok with that.” Linda gave her a beaming smile that alleviated the earlier embarrassment a bit. “I’m sure there will be plenty to update on with the project and Rapture’s renewable energy.” 

“Oh, of course. And not to mention maybe some quick updates on your relationship too.” The wink she threw Jane almost had her ducking her head back into Frank’s shoulder to hide the flush. “That’s what the people tend to eat up like hotcakes, anyway!” 

Old news at this point, the pair knowing very well what their little facade was capable of in terms of garnering attention. The Rapture Herald was just a step up from the Tribune, and they were more than happy to agree to regular interviews in the future. As they left the Herald’s studio, Jane needing to get ready for dinner with Ann later, Frank couldn’t keep the smug curl of his lip if he tried. 

This whole opportunity had Ryan’s doom written all over it from the start. Whether Jane was planning on it or not, the topic came up enough of shouldering Ryan from his own electrical business; and Frank had every intention now to see that plan through. 

~*~

Stepping from the elevator, a lengthy line already greeted her from the entrance of the Kashmir, and Jane let an exasperated whine spill under her breath. She was already running late for this dinner with Ann, needing to scour the complex in search of her missing ring after noticing it wasn’t in the usual jewelry dish on her dresser. She had nearly chewed Frank’s head off in a panic after her shower, racing around trying to find it in her bathrobe with tears pricking her eyes. Desperately trying to trace her steps, she nearly collapsed on the tiles of the kitchen floor as Frank held the ring up from where he found it next to the sink. Jane had been in such a rush the entire afternoon, already wound up from the morning as well, that she had forgotten she usually takes it off when she does the dishes. However, not wearing her apron with the front pockets, she had set it aside on the counter.

Still, it’s not like it wasn’t something she’d never done before. Although, if she was being honest with herself, she’d been dreading this dinner more so than the interview. Her nerves sparked under her skin and jumbled her thoughts wondering if this dinner was going to turn out any better than the last few. 

Jane held her breath as she walked quickly to the front of the line, completely blocking the sneers and sharp glares from several people in line as she passed by. There was a second greeter at the front she gave her name to; the man responding with a soft smile, compared to the line behind her, and welcomed her through. The Kashmir was alight with so much energy tonight, the swing music from the live band flooding the place in upbeat tunes as people talked and laughed in almost every corner. A plethora of smells wafted from the kitchen as waiter after waiter strolled in and out with armfuls of delicious and intricately plated dishes.  

The atmosphere was so distracting that she almost didn’t notice Ann right away, already seated at the table Jane had reserved for them. Nestled along a floor-to-ceiling window, Ann sipped on her wine glass as the hypnotizing glow of sea green flooded the table. Jane thanked the greeter and turned to the table before the man could disappear in a flash. 

“Hey, Ann.” She forced a smile as she reached for her seat, the deep narrow to Ann’s eyes assuring her she wasn’t the least bit enthused about Jane being late. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I misplaced my - uh - favorite pair of earrings, nearly had a heart attack trying to find them.” 

She watched Ann’s attention zip up to said earrings, the quirk to her lip slow once realizing they were a pair she had gifted Jane for her birthday a couple of years back. 

“You lost my earrings, huh?” Ann muttered into her glass, downing a bit more of the burgundy liquid with a huff. 

Jane took a seat with a shrug, spinning another lie as she fluffed out the napkin on the table over her lap. “I got a new jewelry case. I’ve been transferring and organizing everything but still have a few pieces in the old one. Trust me, I would never lose these on purpose. Just misplaced them.” 

Ann’s nodd was slow, understanding, but still not happy about her being late. Jane watched as her attention glanced over towards the bucket sitting next to their table, a chilling bottle of wine waiting and already half empty. 

“I ordered for us already, got your usual.” Jane listened as she reached for the wine, pouring herself a glass as well, and nodded a “thank you” to Ann. 

Jane shifted in her seat as the uncomfortable pause overwhelmed the space between them. Keeping a few fingers along the neck of the glass, she twisted it as the wine sloshed with her movements. 

Clearing her throat, she spoke up over the music. “So, how have things been recently? Everything ok down at the diner?” 

Ann shrugged, “Things have been fine. They had me openin’ this mornin’, which is a little unusual but I didn’t mind the breakfast rush compared to how dinner can be.” 

Another pause wedged its way between them as Jane took another sip of her wine, watching as Ann’s gaze seemed to settle anywhere but on her. She couldn’t tell if her friend just felt out of her element, not used to traveling up beyond the Drop never mind eating in such a busy and fancy place like the Kashmir - at least not without Jane by her side the whole time. A few years back when they did scrape together the money for an Express ticket to, say Fort Frolic, even if it was just for an evening; Jane and Ann would be the duo to brave the upper class of Rapture with all their side glances and haughty sneers towards them. And while they couldn’t afford to see one of Cohen’s shows or spend hours in Pharaoh's Fortune, they had the time of their lives getting tipsy off of whatever cheap watered-down wine they could get their hands on. 

Jane cleared her throat and took a sip from her glass again, humming in approval of the selection as her attention wandered off toward the rest of the restaurant. Varying groups of people were scattered throughout, some looked to be groups of friends while a few couples were speckled in with the crowd. All in their own worlds with their laughter and jumbled chatter of multiple conversations mingling with the live music. A sudden pit was felt forming in her gut then at how she and Ann used to be one and the same with these groups, talking and drinking until management would kick them out late into the night. 

So engrossed in her thoughts, she almost didn’t hear the muttering across the table from her, “We all - um - saw you this mornin’, on the Rapture Herald?” 

Turing back and reaching for her glass again, it took a second for Jane to catch on to what Ann had just said. “At the diner?” A nodd. “Goodness -” Jane lifted the glass to hide the slight flush to her cheeks, knowing her friend was probably about to poke fun at how tall she was sitting or how forced her conversation seemed. “I felt like such a mess, I was so nervous.” 

“You sure as hell didn’t seem like it,” Ann commented, a quirk to her lip accompanying an incredulous brow raise. 

Out of their peripherals, another waiter approached with their meals and Jane heaved a sigh. She hadn’t eaten much all day, rather nervous about the interview and this dinner, but the smell from their plates alone was enough to ease her anxiety for a second. 

As the waiter started strolling off, the light clinks of their silverware joined the background noise as Jane shrugged again. “It wasn’t so bad talking about the project, I mean. I know well enough about it to discuss the details and explain it to people who might not understand the field and process.” 

The garlic butter glazing the salmon piece she indulged in then lifted her spirits for a quick second, eyeing the mashed potatoes and asparagus next that sat adjacent to the fish. However, before she could even shovel a healthy amount onto her fork, the subtle scoff from around Ann’s forkful stopped her short. 

“I wasn’t referrin’ to your project.” 

The mashed potatoes slipped from her fork, a muted thump hitting the rest of the potatoes on her plate as she looked up to Ann with her mouth slightly agape. However, Ann still didn’t look directly at her, instead staring down at her plate as she twirled the noodles of her shrimp pasta several times around her fork. The smirk still sat obviously on her friend’s lips and it was becoming apparent, rather quickly, the not-so-subtle implication Ann seemed to be hinting at. Jane kept her attention on Ann until her friend finally looked up at her, her gaze rather intense around her forkful of pasta. And yet, Jane still felt inclined to play up her ignorance in hopes of alleviating any resentment Ann might be hiding. 

  Furrowing her brows, she sputtered, “I - I don’t know what you mean -” 

“Oh, you know -” Ann traded the fork for her glass of wine, her tone shifting rather dramatically. “I would have thought, maybe, that it would’ve occurred to you to let your best friend know of your engagement, yeah?” She took a sip, muffling a hum. “I suppose you’d be able to imagine the shock I experienced after findin’ out - for the whole thing to be true - from a TV segment apparently months after the fact.”  

Ann made her point by sitting her glass down a little too hard against the tabletop, her fork stabbing into her pasta with the metal of the utensil scraping against the bottom of the bowl. Jane shuttered at the sound, goosebumps lining her arm as she lowered her portion of salmon and asparagus. 

“Ann, I’m so sorry. I - I thought I told you, I swear I did.” She let the frown pull the corner of her lips. “After the New Year? I thought I had called you - left a message or something.” 

Another scoff puffed Ann’s chest, “You didn’t call.” She sneered. “You’d think I’d remember talkin’ about somethin’ as big as you gettin’ engaged?” 

She would…if it had actually happened. 

“Nope!” Ann lowered her fork, grabbing for her glass again, and Jane noticed that she had to be a little buzzed already. “Instead, I see you on TV in the diner talkin’ about your project - which I was all excited about for you. But then, there’s mention of those rumors goin’ around in the Tribune. I never believed them - knew you were smarter than that an’ to go flauntin’ yourself around with that - Fontaine .” 

His name barely made it past her lips, coated in poison as she interrupted herself with another mouthful of wine. Jane sat there, staring at the edge of Ann’s plate with a slight grimace twisting her features. “Goodness, Jane, an’ then you go an’ say it’s all true?” 

It was sudden, the intense heat blooming within her chest and spreading along her veins. A welling of emotions bubbled over and scorched her skin in a blotchy pinkish red as her attention snapped up to Ann. Frustration. A frustration that ran so deep in wanting to just tell her. To explain to her friend that it was all fake. The engagement, the front they were playing up for the Tribune, the Herald, everything. To finally tell her friend she was no longer plagued by the ghost of her topside lover because he was Fontaine. And the love she felt for him was real and absolute. That the ring to adorn her finger was one of promise and healing. That they could never marry down here in Rapture, but a promise could be held between them to have hope for the life and love they could still cling to from the surface. 

And yet, she’d be damned if she spilled his secret. Making the promise herself to take Fontaine to her grave and the man who juggled his masks with cunning precision. Even to a trusting friend like Ann, she had to maintain the lie. 

“An’ what gets me the most is that you just fell so willingly, so blindly with this man, this - this dangerous man, Jane. Even after Grace an’ I warned you!” 

Ann had been talking as the overwhelming onslaught of emotions flooded her. Jane didn’t even realize the death grip she had on her fork and she sat it down rather forcefully along her plate. The angry clatter stopped Ann short of her next comment and Jane straightened herself with a huff. 

“Ann, that’s enough.” Her friend’s jaw clicked shut. “Look, I know - I know things have been changing recently. I know I’ve become a little distant and always seem busy, but I’m still trying, Ann.” Jane heaved a sigh and sat back in her chair. 

“These past few months have been a blur and I’m just trying to catch up with it all. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the engagement right away, it - it happened so suddenly.” 

If thinking about it on the spot as a lie for Ryan counts - that was at least true.

“And then the interview opportunities, getting this project implemented, working with two of Rapture’s biggest companies while still doing things for Fontaine at the complex -” Jane felt herself deflate a bit after addressing, rather honestly, all she had been dealing with lately without much of a break in between. “As my friend, all I had hoped for was a bit of understanding, you know?” 

Ann was quiet for a beat, swirling what wine remained at the bottom of her glass. Her opposite hand had lifted for her to rest her chin against, just listening but features scrunching a bit as Jane talked. 

“I understand, Jane, it’s just - you’re changin’, right before my eyes.” 

Jane sat up a bit, “Changing?” 

“Yeah,” Ann sighed. “I know you’ve got all this goin’ on, an’ girl, I’m so proud of how far you’ve come with your project an’ research, but - with everythin’ that comes with the territory of bein’ successful, I guess. Just, actin’ like another rich airhead. Or one of them, holier-than-thou lot shoppin’ along High Street.” 

Her brows furrowed at that, teeth gnawing on the inside of her cheek as a flush started to heat her face. 

“It just seems like you’re takin’ your intelligence for granted, takin’ all your hard work for granted. Turnin’ yourself into some - trophy wife hangin’ on Fontaine’s arm instead.” 

Jane’s mouth lolled open, but her words sat unmoving on her tongue for a second. “I - I’m not some trophy wife. The money I’m shopping on High Street with is money I’m making on my own.” 

“It’s still Fontaine’s money, isn’t it? You’re workin’ for the Futuristics - the money’s not comin’ from Ryan or anythin’.” 

Hands gripped the arms of her chair to keep from shooting up out of her seat. “What is your problem, Ann?” The words dripped with a little less finesse than she anticipated. “I put this dinner together as a chance for us to catch up with each other, to do something we haven’t done in a while - as friends.” 

“An’ we’re not catchin’ up?” Ann lifted her glass to down the rest of her wine. “Look, Jane, I just - I thought I knew you, you know? Knew you’d be the person to stand apart from all those other high-class jerks in Rapture. Knew you wouldn’t forget about us, your real friends, down in the Drop after you started to show up on the Tribune’s front page.” 

Ann doesn’t know her, not the real her from the surface, under the mask she’s been wearing in Rapture. 

“But, you’re becomin’ like the rest of ‘em with Fontaine just pullin’ on your strings.” 

Jane stood up from her seat, the anger and frustration seething under her skin finally becoming too much to stay behind the confines of the table. Her chair was just background noise compared to the rest of the restaurant, but the scraping of wood against the tiled floors was enough to halt their conversation, Ann looked up to her with a bored expression. 

“Ann, I - “ Jane held her tongue, taking a deep breath but still couldn’t help the raised pitch to her voice, the bitterness finally taking hold. “I wish I could tell you everything, explain everything but - I trusted you, as my friend, to understand - to support me!” 

A few tables around them started to glance over their shoulders, conversations ceasing at the yelling happening behind them. 

It was subtle, the crease to her brow and a slight upturn of her lip, Ann trying so hard to hide her own emotions, her resentment. 

“Then, I guess we’re not friends anymore.” 

Ann’s words were a stake to her heart, but her comment about Frank was the last straw. The man may be playing the rest of Rapture, but Jane knew from the bottom of her heart he would never use her like a puppet for his games. If only Ann just knew. 

Grabbing for her purse, she at least pulled the money she was going to use for their dinner and left the wadded cash on the table next to her abandoned plate. She paused to see if Ann had any last words, but with her glass already half-filled again, the rim rested along her lips to mute anything she’d potentially say. And with that, before the welling of tears could blur her vision, Jane turned to rush out of the Kashmir without looking back. 

~*~

The complex was dead silent when she paced through the foyer, the whining of the front door behind her obnoxiously loud. Her chest ached, her head starting to pound with trying to hold in the tears the entire ride back. And being that Frank and Jack took the bathysphere to dinner, Jane had to take the Express. While she was perfectly fine with that, she wasn’t expecting to be later clutching her chest at the back of the sub car to keep the overflow of emotions from making her look like a fool in public. 

In the privacy of the complex, a choked sob finally caught in her throat, standing in the foyer for a few seconds just trying to catch her breath. She saw this coming, the fight, her and Ann butting heads. Yet it still didn’t hurt any less to come face to face with the truth that her recent success - and engagement -  was putting a huge strain on their friendship. Part of her had hoped Ann would be more understanding, realize something was going on Jane just couldn’t tell her - but she could still trust her. Ann was never like that though, even when they first met. The woman was upfront and never sugar-coated anything, but it amused Jane more than anything, and Ann’s bluntness grew on her. 

Still, Ann’s words had been on repeat ever since she stormed out of the Kashmir, swirling dangerously and mixing with a growing rage she had tried so desperately to restrain. All the shit she said about Frank, all the accusations she had against Jane for becoming “just another rich airhead”, the fact that she was “taking her intelligence and hard work for granted”. It had her seeing red. 

Ann was wrong.

It felt as if she was standing in sludge, the tears drying with a few still left sticking to her mascara as she grabbed her bearings for a second. She had been on autopilot ever since getting off the Express back in Apollo Square, attempting to walk back to the complex with her back tall and jaw set. Dropping her purse off at a side table near the front door, she noticed then a pile of mail that had not been there when she left. 

At the top of the pile, her attention snagged on a familiar last name within the return address and she grabbed for it. A painted nail tore the envelope open to a typed letter, and as her eyes scanned it, a light scoff puffed her under her breath. The few short paragraphs were oozing desperation to have her back for more appointments, more money, more time, more secrets fed their way. Jane had to restrain herself from crumpling the letter once spotting the same familiar last name signed at the bottom: Dr. Lamb. 

She had been pacing towards the stairs as she scanned the letter, watching each step over the edge of the paper before deciding to tear it instead. Finding pleasure in ripping it into several pieces, she entered the bedroom then to toss it. Before she could reach the rest of the bedroom, however, something caught the corner of her eye from the window and she paused. 

A shark. A bull shark. 

Needing to do a double take towards the sizable animal gliding ever so slowly past the window, Jane squinted at it before stepping closer. Yes, it was indeed a bull shark, its ruddy brownish-gray coloring and long tail fin confirmed her assumption. Yet, her overall awe at the creature kept getting distracted by the fact that it appeared to be far from home. Very very far. 

Jane tilted her head a bit in curiosity, wondering what an animal that preferred coastal waters was doing out in the middle of the northern Atlantic, no less. It was most certainly a strange behavior she found to be both concerning and fascinating - much like herself as of recently. Wandering in waters that were foreign in nature but familiar in character, wondering if the temperature change would be critical or complimentary. 

Becoming lost in her thoughts, the shark continued its route at a snail’s pace with its mouth slightly agape. Razor-sharp and deadly ragged teeth sat in perfect rows, eyes almost appearing unseeing as it passed her by. Jane raised her hand slowly to rest against the window, chilled glass meeting her palm and she leaned into it rather than relieving her touch. While she knew she was protected by the window, its current languid nature still kept her on edge, knowing it to be incredibly deceptive as this animal was known to react on a dime - like most, if not all sharks. And it was exhilarating facing the risk, flirting with the unknown, embracing what she always should have had deep within - the bull shark swimming lazily inside her, ready to turn on a dime…

Ann was wrong.

~

Frank checked his watch as they entered through the front door of the complex, Jack immediately making a bee-line towards the kitchen to put his leftovers from dinner in the fridge. He’d been blabbing the entire ride back about one of Cohen’s shows he’d been interested in seeing. Ever since Jane made the loose promise about letting Jack go out by himself one of these nights, it’s all the kid has on his mind lately. And while Frank wasn’t too keen on the idea, he figured it’d be good for him in the long run to get out and experience things on his own. Jack was smart enough, and looking like a normal 15 or 16-year-old at this point, what’s the worst that could happen? 

It was just a quarter past 7 as Jane reminded him earlier that morning she was expecting to be out until around 9 or so. However, a glance at the side table next to the front door had his brows furrowing once noticing her purse. She was home already? 

Jack returned to the foyer, undoing the buttons of his coat with his mouth still running. 

“Are you still gonna teach me how to play pool?” He looked up at Frank, all wide eyes and eagerness etching his face as he slipped his coat off. 

The tycoon smirked, reaching a hand to ruffle Jack’s hair a bit. “Yeah, kid. Gotta check an’ see if Jane’s back already, but I’ll meet you up there.” 

Giving an enthusiastic nod, Jack beamed and dashed to the living room along the opposite end of the stairs as Frank moved toward his bedroom. With features creasing partially out of concern, he wondered what would have happened for Jane to be back so early. Things appeared to be getting better between her and her friend. Their last few dinners, albeit a bit tense, were still enjoyable - as Jane described them. Although, before the dinner this evening, she was a mess. Racing around the complex trying to distract herself, doing laundry, and the dishes; then losing the ring as she was getting ready. It made him wonder if things were maybe coming to a head soon. 

Stepping through the door to their bedroom, her immediate presence at the window had him stumbling back for a second, rather expecting her to be in the bathroom or something. What kept him from moving closer to her, however, was the giant - almost 9-foot shark just on the other side of the window. She seemed to be completely entranced by the thing, not even acknowledging him until the shark moved further along the window with her attention following. Seeing him through the window’s reflection, she barely smiled. 

“Did you know that bull sharks are known to be the most aggressive shark species?” She muttered, just loud enough for him to hear as her breath fogged the glass a bit. “I read somewhere in college that they have a higher level of testosterone and may even be more dangerous than Great Whites.” 

She paused for a second, watching the shark glide by as he stayed with his feet glued to the floor, hands finding solace in his pants pockets. However, seeing a near-wicked smile curl her lip in the reflection of the window piqued his curiosity. 

“And usually,” She started again, her tone dropping with her attention lolling off to the left behind the shark. “When you see one - there’s about a dozen not too far behind…” 

The realization struck him then. She seemed off. 

There was a part of her that appeared to be unhinging itself, slowly, from her over the last couple of weeks. Today, it was obvious something was stirring beneath her skin as she stared out the window, eyes glazed over and unseeing. The airy lilt to her voice as she spoke, the lack of eye contact. He had to have been a fool not to see the edge she was barely skating.

Frank chewed the inside of his cheek for a second. “I take it the dinner didn’t go well?” 

The scoff sort of shook him, the sound sharp and sudden with Jane shrugging nonchalantly. “We got into a fight…Ann and I.” Honestly, that didn’t surprise him. “We barely got our meals before she started going off.” 

A sigh, heavy on her chest as she removed her hand from where she had been resting it on the window. 

“It started innocent enough until she mentioned seeing me on the TV this morning.” The hand by her side now balled into a fist. “As my friend, I thought we’d talk about the project, make fun of how awkward I probably looked -” 

Jane trailed off, suddenly, as Frank took a couple of steps closer once noticing her shoulders tensing. 

“Instead - she talked about the engagement, how I never told her,” She spat through gritted teeth. “She talked about how dangerous you were, how - how stupid I must be.” 

The shaking was slight as it hunched her form a bit. “Jane, you’re changing, right before my eyes.” She took a deep breath when he looked at her through her reflection, hell burning in her eyes. “Actin’ like another rich airhead, another one of them holier-than-thou lot shoppin’ along High Street.” Jane could barely bite through the words as she quoted Ann. “Takin’ your intelligence for granted, takin’ all your hard work for granted .” 

Frank lifted a hand to rest on her shoulder but hesitated, feeling something dark settling around her with her hands stretching and curling back into fists along her sides. It was - unsettling. He’s never seen Jane like this, so full of anger and rage, so close to lashing out. He’s seen her mad on the surface. Has seen her upset with bar patrons, seen her chew out disrespectful sailors as he’d lean one arm against the bar and watch with utter adoration for this firecracker of a woman. But this, this was a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to be standing so close to ground zero. 

He lowered his hand once noticing her still all of a sudden. The shaking in her arms and shoulders halted as she remained hunched with her gaze directed towards the ground. It started then, as a low and sinister-sounding chuckle broke under her breath, a hand shooting up to her chest as a last-ditch effort to contain it. But that part of her, unhinging and breaking apart, was much stronger and she choked on the next bubble of laughter. 

Jane started convulsing with each uncontrollable burst, a hand still clutching at the front of her dress as if trying to calm it. But the soft chuckles eventually bled into deranged guffaws with eyes wide and manic staring at her reflection in the window. The sound, a dissonance of madness, seemed to tear through reality as it escalated, punctuated by sharp inhales and breathless pauses. It chilled him, a hardened man like Frank who’s killed people in his past. But to hear such a broken melody of a woman he’s only known to be level-headed and composed, even faced with disrespect and conflict, only reminded him how fractured her mind was. How she was always hanging by a thread, tonight’s events sharp enough to slice that thread without preamble - as if she expected it, allowed it. 

Between ragged breaths, she managed to rip the words from her throat. “Can - can you believe it?” Wild eyes shot up to him through the window. “Taking my intelligence for granted, all my hard fucking work, for granted?!”  

The next wave of laughter resonated off the walls, filling the space with a haunting, unrhythmic tune that wedged itself into his subconscious. Mocking, laughing at a serious joke that lacked significance to her at this point. And all he could do was just stand there and watch, albeit with a slightly twisted form of fascination. 

Then, with how suddenly the laughter started, it stopped - so abruptly it jarred him. Jane had steadied herself against the window, head bowed towards the floor again as her chest and back shook now and then with frenzied giggles. 

“Ann and I -” She interrupted herself as another chuckle bubbled past her lips. “Ann and I aren’t friends anymore. That bitch - she doesn’t know what I went through on the surface. She doesn’t know the rejection, the ridicule, the abandonment with my father -” Jane cranked her head to eye Frank from between the hair that started coming loose from all the styling products she had used earlier. “She got a free ride into college, rich parents supporting her with all the fancy restaurants they owned; coming down to Rapture for the adventure, only then getting cut off from her parent’s money.” 

Geez, he didn’t realize how made her friend had it on the surface. 

With hands still buried deep in his pockets, fingers fidgeted with the lighter still nestled deep in his right pocket; keeping eye contact with honey pools that turned almost black under the limited light.  

“Why the hell would I take my intelligence, my hard work for granted then?” An intense melancholy seemed to blanket her as she broke their eye contact, standing straight to gaze out the window again. “I thought I knew Ann, a hard-working woman like myself - looking out for me.” The hand she had resting against the window balled into a fist and she slammed it against the glass without wincing. The sound echoed around them and Frank gripped the lighter tight. 

“She doesn’t know me. She never knew me. No one down here knows what I’m capable of.” Jane’s voice dipped again, almost as soft as a whisper as she withdrew her hand from the window to study her palm. “I don’t even know what I’m fully capable of. But it’s more than the part I played at The Siren, more than the part I’m playing down here in this…this hellscape.” 

Frank almost felt himself flinch with how quickly Jane turned towards him again, gliding so swiftly along the tiles until she was practically pressed against him. Her hands found solace against the front of his shirt, fingers gingerly toying with his tie. He didn’t touch her at first, restrained his hands from grabbing at the familiar spots along her hips for a second as she looked up at him. 

Ominous. Her face was a contrast of gentle, lips set in a small pout with a reminisce of tears showing along the subtle streaks in her makeup. Yet her eyes, narrowed and dark under her lashes became pools of molasses - menacing and vicious, threatening to steadily drown all those who dared to defy her. There was only a second longer of hesitation to cloud his mind before finally grabbing for her waist and her lips curled into another wicked grin. 

“Help me become untouchable. Help me get my name on every headline of the Tribune, every interview with the Herald.” She whispered, head tilting to drag her lips along his jawline. A fierce heat lit in his veins then, scorching his nerves. “I want people to be jealous, want Ann to be jealous.” And the next few words to drip like honey against his lips were absolutely devastating. “Help me be more powerful than Ryan - with you.” 

Frank could feel his heart pounding in his chest, head tilting back a bit to study her again and if the words she spoke were true. However, a wild - playful smile exposed charming, pearly white teeth. The few freckles along her nose and cheeks prominent under the flush of raging emotions to tint her skin. And if those words, that face, weren’t the most tempting and beautiful things to grace him in a long time - 

“Baby Jane,” He tilted his head to steal her lips in a hungry kiss, both panting as they separated moments later. “I’d thought you'd never ask.” 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

If there was anything Jane could count on, it was that Frank was a man of his word. She asked to be made untouchable, and he went above and beyond to make sure no one in Rapture could lay a finger on her. Not even Ryan. 

And in this, she finally found no shame in taking that confident step into the spotlight, finding pleasure in soaking up every beautiful ounce of it.

A couple of weeks after her first interview with the Herald, the producer approached her and Frank about doing a weekly segment with Jane. It was a spontaneous idea meshed together by a few of the staff members to make something more “family-friendly”, with generous pay, of course. A potential program talking about the importance of energy conservation within Rapture and of Jane’s project both in the present and for the future. 

“Something for the kids.” She recalls hearing spoken with credence from the other end of the phone’s line. “Something to give them a reason to tune in every week, ‘What’s the scoop with Jane, Rapture’s Power Gal - what advice can she give to the citizens today? What fun facts can she give the kids?’ .” 

It wasn’t a bad idea. 

Granted it was probably more of a pull for views with the Herald, they had the Tribune and Rapture’s Radio as competitors anyway. But it was exactly what Jane was looking for in terms of exposure. Hell, after the call she even mentioned to Frank about doing the same sort of advertising with the Futuristics. Create a series of ads featuring her with this supposed title the Herald had coined to promote energy conservation and, essentially, Jane’s whole project. A subtle pull for the Futuristics as well in saying the idea, the project, it all came from them - versus the Industries, who were just paying for it at this point. 

It was a brilliant idea, but they had a loophole to find. 

Ryan had stated to them multiple times that the Industries would be responsible for all advertising featuring this project. It was a detail he was pretty adamant about keeping straight between the two companies as that’s where most of the money was coming in from. Rapture’s citizens were always knee-deep in consumerism. Still, it drove them and the city’s businesses day in and day out. Jane was still curious, however, wanting to know for sure if the ads Ryan wanted to keep close tabs on involved just the project or everything. 

It led her to stay up in the early hours of the morning sitting at Frank’s desk in his office at the complex, painstakingly reading over every line of the contract by the soft warm glow of a lamp light. Frank was adamant in letting her know he could easily get a lawyer or some other official person to read over it instead. But, Jane wanted to see any loophole for herself, a wicked smile beaming a couple of days later when she found exactly what they were looking for. 

Everything after that received a solid stamp of approval from both her and Frank, going ahead with the TV special and Futuristics ads on energy consumption and conservation. And with each TV segment, each ad, and interview to be slapped on the front page of the Tribune, more money would line her and Frank’s pockets, and more people would come to recognize her among the crowd. 

She was becoming a household name. A familiar, bright face among “Rapture’s Greatest”. A loving mother figure to the city’s children, wanting to preserve their futures with sappy smiles and a soft lilt to her voice as she spoke advice and promises. Tribune reporters were dust being drug behind by the hems of her hundred dollar dresses as she paced through the halls of Fort Frolic, Poseidon’s Plaza, Apollo’s Square, High Street, the very top of the city, spending time and money like both were privileged luxuries. 

Rapture couldn’t touch her. Ryan couldn’t touch her. 

~*~

The TV was always on in the Fishbowl Diner, it was more for background noise than anything as the diner’s customers always had entertainment in each other. However, during a lull in the lunch rush, Ann found herself leaning against the display case of various pastries, flipping through the different TV stations with her chin in her palm. There weren’t many stations, the diner tended to settle on either the Herald’s channel or one that showcased some of Cohen’s best performances. However, Ann stopped dead in her tracks after seeing a familiar face on the Herald’s channel, rolling her eyes almost immediately with a groan. 

James had been sitting at the breakfast bar next to her, sipping on a cup of coffee before raising a brow at her, then the TV set in the top corner of the diner. 

“You know, I honestly kinda like these segments Jane’s doin’.” James shrugged as he spoke along the mug’s rim, interrupting himself with another sip. “Very insightful - Rapture’s energy consumption an’ all.” 

“Man, shut up.” Ann scoffed and stood straight. “She’s just playin’ Fontaine’s game. Makin’ a damn fool of herself lookin’ like a pretentious know-it-all.” 

She raised a hand towards the TV to point out such foolishness, Jane sitting rather lax in the stage armchair but still retaining an aura of power with features set and self-assured. The host was talking to her, a man this time and not the usual cheery Linda Hayes. And yet Jane didn’t appear phased at all by his rather off-the-wall questions and comments loosely about her new line of energy conservation ads. In fact, it aggravated Ann at how smug she appeared, knowing she was the smartest person in the room as she allowed the host to continue to ask his nonsensical questions. 

“I betcha Fontaine’s sittin’ on the side with cue cards or somethin’. Havin’ her say anythin’ an’ everythin’ he wants her to.” 

“What, are you jealous?” James looked towards her again with eyes wide, trying to feign innocence with such a damning question. 

Ann sputtered, almost dropping the remote against the pastry case. “W-what, jealous? Why the hell would I be jealous? I ain't jealous one bit. “ She huffed. “To, what, not have Fontaine breathin’ down my neck day in an’ day out?” Ann folded her arms, “No thank you.” 

James rolled his eyes, taking another sip of his coffee to try and hide the smirk that was tugging on his lips. 

“What?!” Ann shoved his shoulder once he lowered his mug. “I’m not jealous!” She was quick to shut off the TV then. 

“I believe you, Ann.” James chuckled. “I just don’t think Jane’s a bad person because she’s a little more public now with her success.” 

The groan almost sounded guttural, “I’m not sayin’ she’s a bad person, just…so fuckin’ arrogant, especially now that she’s hangin’ from Fontaine’s arm. All that money she’s got now, flauntin’ herself. It’s just not like her.” 

James shrugged, swirling the little bit of coffee left in his mug. “Maybe she is just like that. Maybe you don’t really know her.” Ann threw him an incredulous look and he lifted his mug, a silent request for a refill. “I mean if you think ‘bout it - you’ve only known Jane for as long as you both have been down here in Rapture.” Ann was reluctant at first to refill his mug, hesitating for a second as her irritation refused to calm down, but she eventually turned to grab the coffee pot with a sigh. “She’s told us ‘bout her life on the surface, but maybe that wasn’t who she was in her entirety.” 

“That doesn’t matter, James.” Ann poured him a new cup with a heavy sigh. “Regardless of who she was on the surface, the person I still knew for several years…that’s not her up on the TV. Hell, I’m even a whole different person than I was up there on dry land. But, I knew her. I thought she was my friend.” 

James’ brows furrowed at that last remark. “You two aren’t anymore? Did Jane make that decision?” He wasn’t fully aware of what happened during their last dinner, Ann only revealed so much in her frustrated stupor after the fact. 

“No.” Ann set the coffee pot rather forcefully against the countertop, a bit of coffee sloshing out and against the side. “I made that decision. She tried to make things up to me, but I wasn’t buyin’ any of it for a second. She was late, she was flaunting a new expensive-lookin’ dress an’ purse, makin’ excuses left an’ right - lying an’ hidin’ shit from me…” 

“An’ you didn’t try to hear her out on any of it?” 

“Why!?” Ann threw her hands up. “The second I found out she was engaged to Fontaine, the second I knew I couldn’t trust her anymore - that she didn’t care ‘bout us anymore.” 

James noticed it then, the slight crack in Ann’s voice. “I told her to not forget ‘bout us an’ the Drop the second she’s sittin’ pretty with her success. Now look at where things are. She’s sittin’ pretty alright, on Fontaine’s lap with his stacks of cash while she’s forgotten ‘bout us completely .” 

Ann paused with a shuttering inhale, hands balled into fists at her sides with tears fogging her eyes. “I’m not jealous. I’m hurt, James.” 

There were a few other employees out cleaning the diner during the break in the lunch rush, a few of the other waitresses paying Ann no mind but would still find their eyes bugging at the words she was spewing. It was no secret that Jane was becoming less and less liked down in the Drop, just like Ryan and Fontaine; especially among those who did find companionship in her. Ask anyone whom Jane had bought a meal for and they’d go on and on how shocked they were to find the complete shift in the otherwise kindhearted woman. It didn’t make sense. But this was Rapture, so most didn’t question it. 

James blew away the steam drifting up from his mug before taking a sip and adding a couple of spoonfuls of sugar. With a hum he stated. “Maybe you need to sit down an’ talk to Jane about that then, how you’re hurtin’. I’m more than certain she’ll at least listen.” 

The borderline infuriated gaze slicing through his being then was enough to have James shut his mouth again with a click of his teeth. Ann rolled her eyes as she grabbed a rag to clean up a bit of coffee that had splattered along the counter. 

“Doesn’t your shift start soon?” 

A glance at his watch indicated he still had another fifteen minutes or so, but James stood from the barstool with a shrug. Obviously, he needed to give Ann a bit of space and he fished around in his pants pocket for a couple of bills for the coffee. Setting them next to his half-empty mug, he gave her a small wave before extending the invitation for a drink down at the Limbo later that evening. 

Heaven knows she’ll need it. 

~*~

It had been going on all day, people coming in and out of his office with paperwork to sign, meetings he was running late to, and ads to approve. When he was finally able to take a deep breath, did he realize the smell that had been tickling his nose all day was actually coming from him. Of course, Frank knew the moment he had to stop at the Fisheries this morning before the Futuristics, he’d have the scent of dead fish lingering on his clothes. He was just too busy to notice it throughout the day. Hopefully, others didn’t either. Dead fish was practically a perfume at this point, down in this underwater dump. 

Now, as he started filing away the last of the paperwork littering his desk, he checked his watch again to gauge the time. If he could finish putting away all this shit within the next twenty or so minutes, he’d be back in time for the dinner reservation with Jane this evening. 

Can’t keep the birthday girl waiting too long. 

However, with occasional side glances toward the doors to his office, his nerves started to vibrate with increasing aggravation. 

Ryan was supposed to visit him at some point today. And by the rather melodramatic tone in his voice this morning on the phone, Frank was expecting the man to be at his office minutes after hanging up. Apparently, it hadn’t been that important if the man was content with taking the entire fuckin’ day to get down to the Futuristics. Poor Reggie was still probably hanging out in the lobby waiting for Ryan to escort him. Frank made the quick mental note to give Reggie a few extra bucks on his paycheck for the man’s unwavering patience. 

But if Ryan wasn’t there by the time he was done filing everything, well, then better luck next time. 

With the last folder still open, a few papers strewn about, Frank had intended to shove this folder in his desk and get the hell out of dodge. However, it seemed as if fate wanted to fuck with him for a bit and he almost didn’t blink twice when the twin doors to his office shuttered open. 

Of course. 

“Fontaine, you must cease these advertisements now!” 

There he is. 

“Well, good evenin’ to you too.” Frank gathered together and shuffled the stack of papers without giving Ryan a second glance. 

A packet suddenly slapped the top of his desk next to him, and the sheer force blew around a few of the papers he was trying to organize. Frank grumbled to himself under his breath, stopping and propping himself atop the desk with his hands. He did his best to meet Ryan’s aggravation with boredom. 

“Fontaine, this is serious  - “

“Is it?” Frank interjected. “‘Cause you took you’re good ol’ time comin’ down here an’ makin’ a scene ‘bout it.” 

Ryan inhaled deeply. “I had some other things to take care of after our phone call, otherwise I would have come down here sooner.” He pointed toward the packet. “Regardless, this is a serious matter. You must cease the production of these advertisements, these segments with the Herald, now. They’re in direct violation of our contract regarding this project!” His voice rose with his second point, the sound echoing off of the skylight above. 

“We agreed that all advertising regarding this project would be done only by the Industries. Done. End of story.”

“Ah -” Frank held up a hand. “Regardin’ the Elixar an’ energy system. The contract never said anythin’ about advertisin’ the message of savin’ energy. Or that Jane’s image wasn’t allowed to be used in this advertisin’ either.” 

He watched Ryan tense for a split second, the man sputtering. “That - that’s ridiculous. The contract states all advertising with a distinct list of media options within Rapture. Nowhere does it state anything about the Futuristics taking any ad responsibility.”

“Really?” Frank threw a smirk in his direction, resuming his organization of that remaining folder before finally shoving it into his desk. 

Frank grabbed for the packet then, sliding it around to face him as he started flipping through the first few pages of the contract. He stopped on the exact page where his loophole sat pretty and clear. Dragging a finger down the first couple of paragraphs, he paused with a smile at the statement under a highlight section referring to the Industries’ advertising. 

“The Industries will be responsible for all advertisin’ includin’ print media such as; ads in The Rapture Tribune, magazines, an’ poster advertisements - television advertisements an’ radio mentions.” Frank paused to gauge Ryan’s reaction, the man standing with arms crossed and a smug smile tugging on his lips. However, Ryan must have missed his own fine print below this statement. “Furthermore, all advertisements must comply with the regulations an’ pre-determined messages set for the Futuristics an’ Industries Elixir Energy System. Anythin’ not in compliance will be subject to alterations or dismissed from production.” 

Ryan’s smile fell, eyes going wide as he muttered a breathless, “What - “ and reached for the stack to read over the paragraph again. 

“The Futuristics an’ Industries Elixir Energy System,” Frank smirked, crossing his arms, “Nothin’ there mentions us not bein’ able to use Jane’s image to advertise savin’ energy in Rapture.” 

Frank stood there, watching Ryan sift through the few pages before and after this statement, mumbling under his breath about trying to find a section that says otherwise. However, the tycoon could only chuckle to himself. 

“Gotta hand it to ya, you’re right ‘bout the Industries advertisin’ the project itself an’ every detail under it - but never did we talk ‘bout the Futuristics not being able to do any advertisin’ of our own. An’ Jane wanted to put a few things together for the citizens on savin’ energy.” He leaned against his desk as Ryan went back and forth between the page with the statement Frank just read and the page before it. “Remindin’ people to turn their lights off when they leave their home or business. Talkin’ to the kids ‘bout the importance of savin’ energy, from Rapture’s own “Power Gal” - you get the jist.” 

“I - I…” Ryan’s brows knit. “I could have sworn we discussed this. That we agreed on this -” 

Frank shrugged, “Look, Andy, if it’s not in writin’ in the contract, we didn’t discuss it. Which gives me free rein with the advertisin’ we’re doin’.” He glanced at his watch again and his jaw set at the time. 

Dammit. He’s gonna be late. 

“Well, then we must meet about this.” Ryan huffed.” There have to be limitations set regarding this project. These ads cannot continue with how close they resemble the Industries ads regarding the Elixir.” 

He tried not to look at Ryan when he rolled his eyes, standing up from where he had been leaning on his desk, Frank grabbed for his suit’s jacket along his desk chair. 

“They’re not that similar, Andy, trust me. I wouldn’t dream of steppin’ on your marketin’ team's toes when it comes to the ads they’re doing.” Because they’re trash and Frank knows his marketing team can do better. “But if it makes you feel better, stick a bandaid on those hurt feelin’s - or whatever - we’ll meet an’ draw a line in the sand on what we’re allowed an’ not allowed to advertise.” 

Draping the coat over his arm, Frank reached to flip the packet shut as a hint for Ryan to get out, they were done here. 

“Alright.” Ryan eyed Frank’s coat after straightening himself from where he was hunched over the desk. “I’ll set something up within the next day or so. It would be wise to bring Jane as well. Surely she must be made aware of these ads and the issues surrounding them.” 

Frank couldn’t help but nod along, grabbing Ryan’s arm at some point to basically drag him to the front of his office as the man droned on. 

“Yeah, sure. She’ll be there, just - call me tomorrow or whenever you get all this together.” They exited his office and Frank turned to see Ryan clutching the packet, still seemingly rather oblivious that Frank had somewhere to be. 

From the corner of his eye, he could also see Reggie approaching the stairs to his office once he saw the two men walk out. Frank nodded towards Ryan again with a smirk. 

“Sorry to blow you over, Andy -" You deserve it for wastin’ my entire day waitin’ on you. “but I’m runnin’ late for a dinner reservation.” He let the smirk twist his lips, all sharp around the edges. “Gotta make time for the birthday girl an’ her special gift tonight. Promised her she wouldn’t be walkin’ tomorrow.” Frank threw Ryan a wink then, just to drive the knife further. 

However, he barely gave Ryan a chance to react before Frank turned with feet light jogging down the stairs to meet Reggie halfway. With a hearty pat on the larger man’s shoulder as confirmation to get Ryan out of there, Frank left them both to heave exasperated sighs. 

~

The sing-songy tune greeted him as soon as he stepped into the bathroom, “We’re gonna be late.” Jane watched him approach from the mirror behind her, toweling her hair dry with a small smile. 

“Nah, we’ll be fine.” He gave a quick kiss to the back of her head before undoing his tie, the sweet lavender scent of her shampoo making him weak for a second. “Called the place on the way over, I told them to give us another half hour if we’re not there by seven.” 

Jane glanced at the small clock along the corner of the sink, rolling her eyes once she saw it was almost 6:15 already. “And you’re deciding to get a shower now? Siren Alley is pretty far from here, it’s going to take us a half hour to even get there. ”  

Frank kicked his dress pants aside with fingers quick to start undoing the buttons to his shirt. Giving a half-hearted shrug, he smiled. “Had to stop by the Fisheries this mornin’ on the way to the office. You want me at this dinner smellin’ like dead fish?” Jane turned to him then after hanging her towel near the shower, his dress shirt floating to pile atop his pants. “No amount of cologne is gonna cover that up, sweetheart.” 

He watched her gaze zip down below his waist before slowly trailing back up, hands wringing within the fabric of her robe as her teeth barely caught the corner of her bottom lip. 

“Hey, you’re paying for the water.” She muttered with a shrug, leaning in to capture his lips in a quick kiss. “Just don’t complain when we have to take another shower later tonight.” 

Her words sent a jolt down his spine, raising the hair on his arms as she stepped away with a final comment to make his shower quick. They still had Jack to see off for the evening before they should even think about their own dinner reservation. 

They were finally doing it, allowing Jack out on his own for an evening to see one of Cohen’s shows. And as Jane sat at her vanity, touching up the last of her makeup while Frank did up his tie, Jack sat on the edge of their bed on Frank’s side kicking his feet. The excitement was palpable coming from the kid as Jane helped him put together an outfit for the night while they waited for Frank to get home. Jack had promised her over and over that tonight was going to go well and that he’d be back by their agreed time. Of course, that was something they’d just have to wait and see about. Jane was almost certain that Jack was going to get distracted by one thing or another down in Fort Frolic and lose track of time. And yet, she just had to trust him. If this was something he wanted to do again, he had to prove it to them. 

“You remember what time we agreed on?” Jane spoke aloud to Jack’s reflection in her mirror. 

His nod was immediate, “Yep, midnight.” 

“One at the latest, if you have any issues with the Express coming back.” She added after fixing a bit of the red lipstick she’d been fussing with the past few minutes. 

Another enthusiastic nod of confirmation as Jack’s smile beamed back towards her. And while his eagerness was infectious as Jane couldn’t help but mirror his smile, the whole situation was incredibly nerve-wracking. As long as Jack stuck to the script if anyone were to go asking him questions about his parents and where he lived, everything should be fine. Right? 

Yeah, everything should be fine. Jane found herself repeating this internal thought even as she fixed up his coat, placing a kiss on his forehead in another silent plea to be good and careful. Frank ruffled the kid’s hair a bit as well with a scowl from Jane, her hands shooting out to fix the strands she had worked hard with combing and styling. Jack eventually swatted both their hands away with a shy smile and another last hug from Jane. And after checking to make sure he had both his Express and show tickets, he was out the door to the elevator with a wave and a slight skip to his step. 

Jane heaved a sigh as the front door rattled shut behind him. “Remind me to never have kids. I can’t do this whole ‘letting Jack out on his own’ thing without feeling some sort of intense anxiety.” 

The kiss to her cheek was feather-light as Frank passed her purse to her with a hum. “You sure? Don’t wanna give Rapture another surprise?” 

The shove to his shoulder was void of all malice, a playful bump as she moved him to grab for her coat draped along the stair’s railing. “Yes, I’m sure. Trust me. Jack is enough and he’s not even our own son.” 

Frank gave her another telling quirk of his brow and she threw a pout his way as she slipped on her coat. “What? Unless you rather have me drop all this now and toy with the idea of having an affair with Ryan.” She puffed a laugh. “Now that would be one hell of a surprise for Rapture.” 

The sudden hand on her waist was rough, possessive, spinning her around with her back to his front and his breath warm along the shell of her ear. 

“Don’t you dare think ‘bout it.” Yet, there was a playful tone to riddle his words. Assuming she’s heard it enough that she was his, but pleased to be reminded every now and then. “Need I remind you who you belong to?” 

She wiggled from his grasp, turning to face him and adjusting his tie a bit with her gaze sharp under her lashes. Jane propped herself on her toes for a split second, words spilling from her lips to drip on his own. 

“I belong to no one, you know that.” The smirk that lifted the corner of his mouth was lined with steel. “But, you still have me. That, I can promise.” Jane patted his tie. “Now come on, we’re already late.” She slipped away from him then with a coy smile, fixing her coat and hair as they left the complex for Siren Alley. 

~

If glitz and glam were Rapture’s bread and butter, then Siren Alley was the silver platter. And it was about time Jane finally got to experience such lavish luxuries this particular nook within the city had to offer. 

There was a restaurant, in particular, she had been dying to try, a restaurant in the ritziest hotel probably in all the city. The Pink Pearl Hotel, famous for having a waiting list lasting months just to get a room, no less a reservation at the restaurant that resided within the lobby. Appropriately named, The Clamshell, Jane was hesitant to ask Frank about going there for her birthday dinner; worried about the potential wait time. Of course, Frank being Fontaine, only gave her a reassuring smile and simple comment that there would be no issue at all in getting their name at the top of the list. That the only other person who would be on that list before them would be Ryan. And with one quick phone call, he came back to her with the day and time for the reservation, and she’s been excited ever since. 

Seeing Siren Alley for the first time, however, was probably more fantastical. 

After stepping from the bathysphere docking station, Jane’s arm immediately found its usual place within Frank’s own as they moved with the crowd to the entrance of the Alley. And once she finally got a good look at the place as the crowd dispersed, her eyes zipped left and right in excitement, taking it all in. 

Siren Alley almost appeared like no other location within Rapture. The place, quite literally, sparkled as the beautiful polished tiled floors reflected the glittering lights of shops and eateries. So used to the typical blues and greens intermixed with gold accents throughout the rest of Rapture, Siren Alley was bathed in different hues of reds, pinks, and oranges. Gold still seen shimmering amongst the decorated stairwells leading to a second floor within the Alley and among its crowd’s wrists and necks. 

The people who strolled through the Alley were just as lavish as the location itself, and Jane had to steel herself for a second once getting a good idea of the surrounding crowd. Before Fontaine, before the Futuristics, she wasn’t even aware such a class within Rapture existed. Yes, she was familiar with those who frequented Apollo Square and the High Street, but those she was spotting in the Alley were a different breed of wealthy. Women wore sparkling gowns, and men wore fully tailored suits, both with extravagant jewelry and hats. And if she wasn’t already hanging from Fonatine’s arm with the notability she’s been gaining lately, she’d almost feel horribly embarrassed to even step foot off the bathysphere. 

However, there was still no shame as she held her chin high while they traversed through the crowds towards the Pink Pearl. The sparkle from Jane’s own black, floor-length evening gown caught the wandering attention of a few other women, jealously evident in their scrunched features as she clung a little closer to Frank’s side. Though, the extra attention was too sweet to pass up and she’d let the smug little smile tug at her lips as a subtle acknowledgment of the leering observations. 

As they arrived at the Pink Pearl, the large gathering of people outside The Clamshell gave way to how popular the place was. And yet, they almost had little to no issues getting inside as most if not everyone made way for Fontaine once spotting him. Jane was also worried about missing their reservation time, but the restaurant’s greeter was more than happy to see Frank as they were immediately led to their table. 

And if there was one glaring detail she noticed about Siren Alley, it was that almost no one regarded her with sharp side eyes and upturned noses. No one in line for The Clamshell grumbled as they made their way to the front. No one scoffed seeing her by Fontaine’s side. It was an immense sense of…belonging. As if she was finally among those who accepted her into the city’s upper class, who finally regarded her as Fontaine’s fiancée and didn’t think twice about it. 

Jane decided very quickly that the Alley was going to be her place. To finally feel the recognition without the resentment. As they finished a very pleasant dinner, Jane even treating herself to a piece of cheesecake for her birthday, she batted her lashes at Frank to give them more time in the Alley. Of course, it’s not like he would say no, especially on her birthday. But it was a chance to explore, to give subtle hints with a few clothing items and accessories in different shop windows. And a way to get an idea of the Alley itself. There were small grocery stores, plenty of fashion stores, pharmacies, and the hotel as if the Alley itself was a whole city for the incredibly wealthy within Rapture. They even visited a spirits store for some wine, a bottle she’d never seen even in Fort Frolic or Apollo Square; but the cashier was adamant in marketing it as one of their best bottles. Then after another trip to a nearby marketplace for some fresh fruits and cheese to accompany the wine, Jane started scowling to herself about her heels. And while the ache in her feet was becoming very apparent, she also was excited to treat herself to one last thing on her birthday. 

~

With enough of a natural emerald glow filtering in from the windows, Jane decided to keep the bathroom lights off. A few candles were placed around the wide rim of the bathtub, and she poured a bit of bath soap in with the running faucet. The mixture of vanilla and rose tickled her nose as she tested the water now and then, making sure it wasn't too hot. Once satisfied with the level of bathwater, she shut the faucet off and took no time in shedding her bathrobe.

The thin layer of bubbles was disrupted as she dipped a toe in, slowly stepping into the tub and sinking in the water. The combination of the steaming water and bath soap alleviated every ache and tense muscle almost immediately. Jane adjusted herself carefully so as not to disturb the water and send it over the tub's edge. And as she settled against the tub's wall, a deep sigh deflated her chest.

There were many different ways she could have ended the day, but this was certainly one she had been secretly hoping for. Not telling anyone it was her birthday to avoid any large parties or events, Jane went about the day just like any other with the hopes it would end with some much-needed rest and relaxation.

Now, the only thing that would make this moment better would be -

The bathroom door creaked open and the smile was slow to crawl across her lips as she sat up a bit.

There he is.

Folding her arms and draping them along the tub's edge, she watched Frank stroll in with two glasses of wine balanced precariously in one hand with a plate of cheese and grapes in the other. The sight was rather amusing and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep the comments from interrupting his concentration. He was quite successful, however, in placing the plate on a nearby stool from the shower while handing her one of the glasses.

"Water's ok?"

Jane took a sip of the wine, humming in content at their selection. Surely much better than anything she could hope to purchase at Worly Winery or even Sinclair Spirits.

"Why don't you join me and find out?" She met his gaze under her lashes, lips tilting into a shameless grin.

He met her smile with a quick one of his own, taking a sip of his glass before setting it aside on the tub's edge next to her arm. She watched unabashedly as he shed his undershirt and flannel pants, her eyes trailing along every inch of him as he kicked his clothes to the side. Moving to the opposite end of the tub, she gave him room to carefully step in. The thing was large enough to hold four people and sat pretty deep, but Jane may have filled it a bit too much, in hindsight. She watched the waterline kiss the edge, some of it spilling out and collecting along the aqua-colored tile that surrounded the tub.

Once he was settled where she had originally been sitting, she handed him his glass before treading back over to rest on her knees between his own.

"Good?" She asked, regarding both his position and the water's temperature.

Frank nodded with a smile. "Perfect." And lifted his glass to her own, the two meeting with a slight tink that echoed in the otherwise quiet space around them. "Happy Birthday, Baby Jane." He leaned forward to capture her lips in a quick, but tender kiss.

The giggle bubbled from her chest with a shy "thank you" and she shifted forward to maneuver and lay against his front. Jane sunk further into the water, his form a solid reassurance against her back as she heaved another sigh.

They sat in silence for a bit, the gurgling of bubbles a steady white noise outside the bathroom window with the distant calls of whales and groaning Big Daddies intermingled here and there. A warmth started to settle along her chest as well, after drinking half her glass already, and her head lolled back to rest on his shoulder.

Frank had been trailing his free hand not balancing his wine glass along the top of her left thigh. His movements were sluggish under the bath's water as his palms drew steady and repetitive paths from her knee to her hip. Every now and then he'd set the wine glass aside to pick from the plate sitting outside the tub, feeding her an assortment of the cheeses they picked up in Alley as well. And it was within the simple moments like this that the rest of Rapture fell away to give them some peace and stillness.

"So, how's it feel to be 35?" The words were muttered against the shell of her ear with a teasing lilt to them, a dramatic eye roll accompanied her answer.

"It could honestly be the stress of everything happening recently, but I just feel - older, you know? Like I've been through the wringer so many times already."

The hum vibrated from his chest. "Could be. Nobody said this shit was ever easy."

"Unfortunately not."

The silence enveloped them again and his hand was back under the water to rest on her thigh. There was a feather-light kiss to a sensitive spot behind her ear before he spoke again.

"Regardless, is this what you wanted? For today?"

Jane took another quick sip from her wine glass, "Absolutely." She shifted to the side a bit to look him in the eyes, "Thank you for everything, but this - this is perfect. Exactly how I wanted to end the day."

His smile reflected her own. "Of course. Just glad we can do it, never could in your pathetic excuse of a bathroom on the surface."

Jane tilted her head back on his shoulder with a laugh echoing towards the ceiling. "That's right! That stupid bathroom could barely fit me. I think I only ever took showers in that tub too."

And yet, they still shared so many memories in the limited space. The morning after he'd stay the night, they'd both be brushing their teeth side by side in front of the mirror. They would be shoulder to shoulder and almost the complete length of the bathroom from the wall to the tub. Still a little groggy with sleep weighing heavily on them both, they'd still exchange small smiles through the mirror. And on the mornings where they could sleep in a bit, both would be fighting for the space with teasing giggles and playful fights. The shower could hardly fit one of them, nevertheless both. But they'd still make the mornings work, so much so, it became routine every time he'd visit.

She missed those days, dearly. And it wasn't because she didn't like what they had now, certainly her current life was more of an adventure. But then, things were so simple, so easygoing and predictable.

Domestic - almost.

"Hey, Frank?" Jane turned her head to mutter, "What do you think our lives could have been like if we never left the surface?"

He was silent for a second, swirling the remaining wine in his glass before downing the rest of it.

"Never left the surface, huh?" She nodded slightly as he set his glass aside, "Are you assumin' I'd stay in Portland?"

A shrug, her features sinking a bit, "I'm assuming something would have eventually happened if Rapture was never in the picture."

With both hands now free, he picked back up on the movement of dragging his palms slowly from her knees to the outside of her thighs before stopping at her hips. "Yeah, suppose somethin' would have happened, eventually."

Jane furrowed her brows, a pout resting on her lips as she tilted her head back against his shoulder again. "Humor me then."

A deep chuckle pricked her skin. "What have I promised you in the past? A place on the beach? A boat?"

"A cottage," Jane corrected with a hum. "A little white cottage on the beach with a porch and soft blue shutters. Something, right on the dunes with direct access to the beach." She smiled at the memories of the conversation. "And yes, a boat, definitely a boat. Something to take out and explore the coast with and to fish."

"Sounds like you've put more thought into this whole idea." He chuckled, his words soft against the skin of her shoulder just barely peaking up over the water.

Jane rolled her eyes at the comment. "Maybe so, but you also had a hand in those promises. I just want to know - if you would have stayed and...lived that life with me."

There was a pause as he placed a few tender kisses on her skin, "Jane - " He sighed, "You know, now, what I was doin' up there, but it would've taken a while - figure out a bunch of shit to make things work."

A palpable weight was settling around them as soon as she posed the question, and she almost immediately regretted it. But it was something that's been on her mind for a while, what life they could have had and if it was ever possible in the future - after Rapture.

Is that even possible, life after Rapture? She only hoped so for the sake of this dream, this promise.

"Would you have told me, what you were doing with your cons and other lives?" She practically whispered.

She also noticed it then, as he was trailing a devastating series of soft kisses along her neck, that his hands started moving again.

"Maybe in time, if things had gotten serious 'nough."

Her thoughts scrambled for a second as she felt his hands slide up to her knees, then back down to circle towards the inside of her thighs, parting them slightly.

"Define serious." The exhale was obvious between her words as his palms danced along her inner thighs. "Would you have married me?" The next stuttering breath forced her eyes to close for a second as his fingers slipped down to drag along her folds.

She could practically feel the smirk stain the skin along her shoulder. "Eventually, I would've."

His words sent a wave of warmth along her spine, pooling in her pelvis as he kissed her shoulder again. Yet, she could only smile at his response. As much as she could second guess, as much as she could doubt him - especially what they could have had on the surface - he'd always come back around to drip sweet words along her skin. The genuine tone, the slow and gentle motion of his fingers dipping into her core, his lips sucking marks along the column of her neck - and all other questions melt away.

A rhythm picked up, slowly as she felt the hum vibrate from his chest. His finger sunk a bit further, crooked in a come-hitcher motion against her nerve-rich wall.

"You done askin' questions, Doll?" Frank whispered into her hair. "I've got one last gift for ya."

Another smile broke her features. "T - that promise...about fuckin' me good to the point where I can't walk tomorrow?"

A chuckle shook his shoulders. "Gotta fulfill it now that I told Ryan 'bout it too, but I can still tease you for a bit, yeah?"

"You - you told Ryan?" She choked on her words, sputtering as a stifled moan finally dripped past her lips as he crooked his fingers within her.

"Had to tell 'im somethin' to get 'im to leave," He muttered against her temple. "Fuckin' bastard decided to finally come down to the Futuristics right before I wanted to get out of there."

Jane tried to sift through her thoughts about what they had talked briefly about during dinner, the fact that Ryan was all up in arms about their ads treading some dangerous territory. Frank had mentioned that Ryan took his good ol' time coming down to the Futuristics, the reason why he was late coming home. She honestly wanted to know how that little meeting went, Frank rather focusing on her during the dinner instead of talking shop the entire time. However, no matter how hard she tried to form the words into a coherent sentence or more legitimate questions, she couldn't comprehend anything past his lips soft against her skin and fingers thrusting within her at a tantalizing pace.

She didn't realize then that her hips started rocking in time with his fingers, the water in the tub shifting and lapping at the edges with their movement. Instead of attempting to form words to continue their poor excuse of a conversation, she stared unseeing toward the ceiling as her hands lifted back to grip his biceps behind her.

Her jaw fell slack, eyes rolling up and closed as his thumb joined the mix. Rolling over the sensitive nub of her clit, Jane gasped as she sunk further into the tub and against the solid form behind her. Sparks of electricity felt like they were igniting in her pelvis, pricking her skin in the now lukewarm bathwater.

"You done, now?" His breath was warm along the shell of her ear. "Been waitin' all day to treat you to this an' yet it feels like you just wanna talk 'bout the past, huh?"

Any syllable, any potential formulation of words caught on the edge of her tongue, sticking to the roof of her mouth as she swallowed hard.

"Believe me," He chuckled, the sound rich and smooth. "I'd love nothin' more than to go back to all of that, but I'd say what we've got down here ain't half bad either."

He wasn't wrong, and she was all about the future now, right? Having that intense desire to rocket herself to the top, to have everyone in the city know her name just as well as Ryan's. But it appeared as if the past and future were bridging themselves right over her head, her present state of mind. The woman she was then versus the woman she wants to be are one and the same.

And if it wasn't for the smooth motion of his fingers slipping from her core to help her sit up, she might have been able to voice such thoughts. Right now, however, she was just as content to be maneuvered as Frank moved to get up and out of the tub first, helping her to stand as well before pulling the tub's drain plug. She almost expected him to at least grab towels for them both, instead, as soon as her toes dug into the plush fabric of the bathmat, Frank was lifting her in his arms bridal style.

A squeak bubbled from her chest as he started moving them quickly back towards the bedroom, both still dripping wet. Goosebumps pebbled her skin but she was happy to see he must have started a fire in the fireplace before heading to the bathroom with their wine. And before she could complain about getting the comforter and bedsheets wet, she felt her back lower against the cool, dry fabric.

"F-Frank!" She squealed, hands glasping around the back of his neck. "Cold!"

His larger form was over her in seconds as he crawled onto the mattress with her. "I gotcha. Shouldn't be a problem here soon, Doll."

Before she could open her mouth again to protest or ask him to get a towel before he does anything, his hips slotted against her own with his cock already hard and hot sliding along her core. The feeling sent another jolt down her spine and she tilted her head back against the mattress with a whine.

"Promised you weren't gonna be able to walk tomorrow, still ok with that, as your last birthday gift?"

The smile slowly curled along her lips. "Please ."

A short response, but all he needed.

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

He could barely see the clock on his nightstand, but the gentle light bathing the bedroom from the neon signs outside confirmed it had to be around 2:30 am. The immediate smell of charred firewood and the crackling of the cooling embers shook him of the sleep still sitting heavy on him, and he crawled from the clutches of the comforter and sheets to put the fire out. He honestly meant to do it before falling asleep, but Jane had clung to him almost desperately before drifting off, keeping him pinned to the mattress. 

However, it’s not like he was quick to stand up and move around either after giving her a few intense orgasms that promised her she’d at least still be shaking in the morning. She did a number on him too, a few spots and muscles along his body burdened with an ache that sat so deep but was absolutely worth it. 

Finding a nearby pair of flannel pants draped on the loveseat at the end of the bed, Frank did his best to slide them on without wincing. An obvious twinge in his lower back complemented the stinging of scratch marks clawed in intricate patterns along his skin. And while he cursed under his breath at the discomfort, he couldn’t help but feel pleased in his success of giving Jane what he promised. He just didn’t expect he might not be able to walk the next morning either. 

The fire poker was in its usual spot as Frank started shifting the logs around in the fireplace, it all pretty much reduced to embers and ash at this point. He could have left it until morning, but the nagging feeling nudging him in his sleep to check on the fire always did its duty in waking him to take care of it. However, it wasn’t just the fireplace that was nagging him, something else persuaded him out of the deepest pits of slumber, and Frank found himself moving towards the bedroom door to check on something else. 

The rest of the complex was quiet, almost too quiet, and it sent a chill down his spine with the immediate feeling that something was wrong. Each floorboard leading up to Jack’s room creaked and shifted under his weight. And while Frank was a rather light sleeper, something told him he would have heard the same floorboards had Jack come creeping in that night. His bedroom door was still cracked open, though, the kid taking to closing it recently the older he’s gotten. That realization made his heart skip, and he almost wished to see the kid already in bed and fast asleep; too put out to close his door after an exciting night. However, that’s not what greeted him once pushing the door open with the tips of his fingers. 

It was empty. Jack wasn’t there.  

An ice-cold panic washed over him, and Frank quickly jogged up the stairs towards the living area. Maybe the kid decided to pass out on the couch or something, not wanting to disturb the floorboards near his room if he did return later than promised. However, he found the living area to be dead silent and empty. Frank felt his heart lodge itself in his throat, and he turned on a dime to check the second pair of couches adjacent to the dining area downstairs. Those turned up empty as well. 

Fuck. Where was the kid?!  

A sudden surge of adrenaline had him pacing back up the stairs, taking them two at a time as he rushed to his office. Grabbing for the phone on his desk, muscle memory had him dialing Reggie’s number in the dark, chanting for him to pick up as the line connected. Right before the second to last ring, the line picked up with a groggy, “Hello? Frank?” muffled on the other end. 

Frank heaved a breath, “Reggie? Sorry to bother you man, but Jack’s not at the complex.” The panic started to dissolve into anger as he bit through gritted teeth. “The little shit didn’t come back from his show when we told ‘im to. I’m gonna head out to check the Square, can you look for ‘im in Fort Frolic?” 

He heard Reggie immediately perk up on the other end. “Yeah - yeah, shit. I’ll head there now.” 

Reggie hung up right after and Frank almost fumbled with the phone as he slammed it back on the receiver. Taking a few deep breaths, he stood in the darkness of his office for a few seconds, his mind racing on what was happening. Where the hell was he going to start looking in the Square? Where the hell his kid could be?  

Running a hand along the back of his neck, he tried steadying his breath like Jane had shown him before. Although, the longer he stands here like a paranoid idiot, the longer Jack’s out there - wherever the hell he is - probably lost and confused. Wallowing in all these ‘what ifs’ wasn’t gonna help him find the kid any sooner. 

With that, he jogged back out into the bedroom and towards his dresser to look for a shirt and pants to throw on. He was barely able to give a second glance to the figure now sitting up in their bed, already pulling out a pair of casual slacks and an undershirt as he started changing. 

“Frank?” The figure chirped from across the room. “Is everything alright?” Sleep still riddled her voice, and in the limited light, Frank could see her face twisted with confusion. 

“No.“ He grumbled, the panic and irritation starting to bubble dangerously just under his skin. “Fuckin’ - Jack’s not here. Checked his room when I went to put out the fire an’ he wasn’t there. Isn’t anywhere in the complex either.” Frank huffed as he grabbed for his shoes and wrestled them on. 

“What?!” Her voice broke immediately, throwing the comforter aside to stand, wide awake now. “Wha - where is he? Do you know where he is?” 

“I don’t know.” He spat back, hands shaking slightly as he tied the laces to his shoes. “All I know is that he’s not here .” 

Frank was swift to stand from the loveseat he had perched on to grab for a jacket, still trying to keep what composure and control he was barely hanging onto. Shrugging on his jacket, he saw Jane reach for her robe on the loveseat as well and slip it on. 

“Reggie’s searchin’ for ‘im in Fort Frolic. I’m gonna look ‘round the Square.” 

“Well, then I’m coming with you.” 

“No!” He shouted, yet regretted it instantly. She took a couple of steps back, hands gripping her robe tight as her face fell. Tears were already starting to brim in her eyes when Frank sighed long and deep. He stepped toward her with his hands light and gentle along her shoulders. “Jane - no, stay here. Just in case the kid comes stumblin’ in before Reg or I find ‘im.” 

It took a second before Jane lifted her head to acknowledge him, nodding slightly at his request as he leaned forward to place a quick kiss on her forehead. Then he was gone, rushing out the bedroom door with the complex falling into a hushed yet heavy silence. 

~

Jane had been pacing around in the foyer, knuckles to her teeth with her heart thumping so loudly it echoed in her ears. She could have run a rut into the flooring, bare feet padding against the tile as she tried to take slow and deep breaths. It had been an hour already since Frank left to find Jack, feeling as if her attention was zipping between the large clock in the foyer and the front door every minute or so. She had debated with herself on going out as well, at least to search around Mercury Suites and the Bistro. However, if Frank was going to the Square, he would have passed through both and had maybe seen Jack. It certainly wouldn’t have taken an hour then and she wouldn’t be here on the verge of fainting from the panic fuzzing the edges of her vision. 

Another half hour passed, and still nothing. A thousand what-ifs suddenly started plaguing her and she made up her mind to go grab her shoes. There was no way in hell she was going to continue to sit here and do nothing to help find Jack. However, just as she was jogging back down the stairs with her jacket also in hand, she saw the front door opening as Reggie’s larger form entered. Jane held her breath, catching herself on the railing as she watched him help another stumbling figure through. It was Jack, and a huge wave of relief washed over her. Throwing her jacket along the railing, Jane raced towards Reggie with tears brimming again in her eyes. 

“Oh my god, Jack.” Reaching for him, she saw that Reggie was supporting the boy’s smaller frame. She noticed then that he was as white as a sheet with hair disheveled and clothes all creased and wrinkled. 

“The kid’s been gettin’ sick on our way back,” Reggie commented, hinting they should maybe get him to a toilet soon. “Had to stop at a bathroom or trash can every several minutes.” 

Her heart sank a bit, now wondering what the hell could have happened to him as she grabbed for Jack’s coat instead. She ushered Reggie to take Jack to their bathroom, throwing the coat along the railing with her own as she followed them. It almost appeared as if the kid was drunk, head lolling and feet barely making it onto each step as Reggie practically carried him upstairs. She stayed on their heels until they reached the bathroom, Jack immediately scrambling over towards the toilet to get sick again. 

Jane quickly grabbed the handtowel from the sink, dowsing it in cold water to place on the back of Jack’s neck as she placed her hand on his forehead to check his temperature. Luckily, he didn’t feel super hot, a bit warm but not running a fever. Yet, him getting sick was worrying her just enough. Did he eat something bad? Was it food poisoning? Was he allergic to something that they didn’t know about? Was it the medication, or lack thereof? He took it last night before he left, right? 

“God, Reggie - what happened, where did you find him?” She glanced at the man over her shoulder, running her fingers through the boy’s hair as he whined into the toilet bowl. 

Reggie was standing aside already with a glass of water handy. “Found ‘im curled up in a booth in the Cocktail Lounge.” 

“In Fort Frolic?” 

He nodded, “Fast asleep. There were a few empty an’ half-filled glasses on the table he was at.” 

Jane knit her brows with attention dropping back to the boy who coughed a few times before sitting back on his heels. 

“Jack, sweetie, what happened? “ She continued her gentle motions through his hair, the back of his neck still warm and hair damp with sweat even under the chilled towel. 

Moving a bit so she was sitting next to him rather than behind, she saw his eyes instantly glaze over with tears. 

“I - I, I don’t want you to get mad.” His voice broke between choked sobs. “I’m - I’m so sorry.” 

Her heart shattered into a million pieces just hearing the guilt riddling his voice. ‘No, no, it’s ok, Jack. Don’t be sorry, just tell me what happened. I promise I won’t be angry.” Jane wiped the tears from his eyes with her thumbs. “I just want to know what happened so I can help you. Did you eat some bad food? Was it because you didn’t take your medication last night?” 

Jack shook his head, eyes squeezing shut at the memory of the previous night and he heaved a sigh.

~*~

Clutching his ticket to his chest, Jack couldn’t keep his eyes off the dancing neon signs littering the ceiling of the Atrium. Every light was pulsing to some unheard tune, and the only thing keeping him from getting too distracted was the crowd flowing like choppy water around him. He’d never seen so many people in one place before! And as he kept stumbling into people, he tried his very best to ignore the few angry looks; voicing a quick apology before pushing on to the Fleet Hall. 

In no time though, his heart started thumping in his chest with excitement, eyeing posters for the show he was going to see and a beaming smile lifted his features. Mama Jane and Papa Frank would be so proud of him! He took the Express all by himself on the way over and found his way fairly easily to the Atrium. As long as he followed the signs like Mama Jane had told him, which shouldn’t be hard with how large and flashy they were. Still, it made him feel grown up. Finally able to prove he wasn’t a child anymore and could be trusted out on his own instead of being cooped up in the complex. 

And he’d prove to them both that he can handle this, that he can manage a night out on his own.
Maybe then they’ll let him go out more too. To Arcadia, or a pigskin game! He’s seen Uncle Reggie watch those games sometimes in the complex and was always hollering and cheering at the television. Seeing one of those in person must be even more exciting…

Jack hadn’t been paying too much attention between his thoughts as he made his way to the entry line of the Fleet Hall. Rather spacing out a bit and thinking of other places he could venture to until a sharp “Next!” shook him from his pondering. 

The woman in the ticket window eyed Jack attentively as he stepped up, not liking the woman’s face at all from her sharp, cold eyes to her deep frown. Jack couldn’t tell if she was upset with him or if her face was just…stuck like that. 

“Your ticket.” She held her bony hand through the window and Jack fed it through to her with his own hands trembling slightly from bundled-up nerves. 

He watched with wide eyes as she tore the end of his ticket, handing the smaller portion back to him with a monotone, “Enjoy the show.” 

Jack grabbed for the ticket with a smile and a squeaky, “Thank you!” before ducking off to the side and into the hall to find his seat. 

Then, only waiting around for fifteen minutes or so, squished between a larger man and woman wearing rather expensive-looking outfits; the show started with an extravagant introduction from Sander Cohen himself. And no matter how many performances Jack has seen on the television back at the complex, nothing was compared to seeing the show with his own eyes. 

While he didn’t fully understand the overall story of the performance, everything was still incredibly captivating from the singing and the costumes, to the laughter and gasps all orchestrated together by the crowd. Jack never had friends, but in that moment he felt a part of something so much bigger, enjoying moments with hundreds of other people. The man and woman on either side of him had also started conversing with him during the intermission, asking if this was his first show to which Jack responded with a nod and a shy smile. 

Apparently, this show in particular was the second part of a multi-part act that Cohen was actively working on, as the woman was explaining to him. Instead of showing everything all together when it was finished, the artist took to making each act its own separate show that allowed for more “pizzazz” as the woman called it. Jack didn’t know what “pizzazz” was, but assumed it referred to all the extra lights, costumes, and music. And it made a sort of sense, instead of having a super long show, just break it up into pieces. And while the woman appeared as if she was commending Cohen, the man to his right would agree but grumble now and then that it didn’t make a lick of sense. But “an artist must do what an artist must do” as he sighed and crossed his arms. 

While Jack didn’t understand it all completely, especially when it came to the “artistic meaning” behind everything, it still was incredibly fun. The warm feelings after the woman had complimented him on how sharply dressed he was for a young man, and the man pointed out how respectful he was when Jack spoke to them. It boosted his confidence and had him sitting straight for the rest of the show, a large grin etched onto his face. 

He’d do anything to experience another show again, to go out like this and be grown up again. 

Of course, he needed to prove he was responsible enough today. 

After the show was over, Jack joined the flurry of people leaving the Fleet Hall. Trying his best to move and flow with the crowd rather than fight it, he finally made it back out to the Atrium with a huff. However, all the fun energy from the show was still buzzing around in his chest, not wanting to leave just yet. A glance down at the watch that Papa Frank had given him would tell him if he had enough time to walk around. Ok, so the big hand was on the six, but the little hand was on the nine…which meant that it was 9:30! He has plenty of time! 

Smiling to himself, Jack immediately shuffled his way toward a map of Fort Frolic to get an idea of what else was there for him to see. Mama Jane mentioned there were a few art exhibits he might be interested in seeing and a small bookshop on the first floor of the Atrium for him to check out as well. And while he didn’t bring any money, there was no harm in window shopping as he’d done many times with her on High Street. 

Maybe if he finds a book he really likes, he’ll be able to come back and get it by himself again.

After waiting for a few people to step away from the map, Jack was able to step up and quickly glance at it to find any signs indicating a bookstore or art exhibit. Once spotting a small section of the Atrium that split off to the left of the Fleet Hall, Jack recognized the Cocktail Lounge - remembering that Mama Jane and Papa Frank had gone there for a party before. Around it sat smaller shops, and once spotting a faint title hinting at a bookstore, Jack beamed a wide grin and took off from the map. 

Following the signs towards this little pocket of Fort Frolic, it became apparent that this section of the Atrium was a little quieter as people shopped and browsed each display. Still, there was a distant commotion coming from the Lounge that made it apparent this section wasn’t completely devoid of any potential drunks and loud groups of party-goers. Jack found he didn’t enjoy the party atmosphere, rather wanting to spend time sifting through clothing at a department store or walking around with an armful of groceries as he’d accompany Mama Jane to the Farmer’s Market. Or going to artistic shows and enjoying conversations with like-minded strangers. That’s how Papa Frank always told him to be - professional and respectful. 

However, his side-eye in the direction of the Cocktail Lounge didn’t slip and certainly didn’t go unnoticed by him. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit at least a tiny sliver of curiosity to what the Lounge looked like inside, what the drinks tasted like, and if the music was any good. 

No, he had to be good today. He couldn’t let his curiosity get the best of him and make him late in getting home. Avoiding any more temptation, Jack veered down a hall that led to the bookstore he saw on the map. It was interesting, though, to find fewer people down this hall until he noticed that most of the shops were actually closed; including the bookstore. 

“Aw - what?” Jack whined, pacing towards the sign posted on the window of the bookstore to read that the store was ‘Permanently Closed’ by Ryan’s Council. Nothing specified why it was closed, but it was still heartbreaking enough and he let out a huff before slowly walking back towards the Lounge. 

What was he going to do now? He had no money to see another show or get another Express ticket outside of Fort Frolic. He could walk around a bit, but Mama Jane was very insistent he stay away from Posiden’s Plaza, not wanting him to get dragged into any of the casinos or worse - Eve’s Garden. 

Jack found a pillar in the lobby near the Lounge to lean against, rechecking his pocket to make sure he still had his round-trip Express ticket. With fingers brushing against two slips in his pocket, one the show and the other the Express ticket, he signed in relief. He also took the moment to check his watch as well, only seeing about five minutes had passed and he knit his brows with a huff slipping under his breath. 

Though, as he lifted his attention back up to the crowds flowing by him, he couldn’t help but shake the feeling that someone was watching him. His suspicion was confirmed once he noticed a group of kids who looked around his age, or maybe even older. About three of them were huddled together, two boys and a girl who was looking at him with a beaming smile. She had an arm wrapped around one of the boys who was also staring at him and whispering something to the girl by his side. Jack immediately ducked his head, feeling his cheeks burn bright red at the sudden attention. Glancing back up at the group, he saw the third boy now looking at him with a slight smile as the girl started approaching him. 

“Hey!” She called, and Jack stood straight against the pillar behind him, his heart hammering in his chest. 

He raised a hand to give a shy wave as she approached, her blonde hair swaying in the high ponytail she had it pulled up in. Her pink polka-dotted skirt also bounded with her movement and Jack couldn’t help but smile at just how pretty she was. 

“Are you lost?” She asked as she stopped in front of him, she was slightly taller too and Jack had to tilt his head a bit to talk to her. “My boyfriend saw you just standing here and thought you might be lost.” 

“O-oh, no. I’m not lost. I - um…” Jack stuttered, looking back towards the hallway he had just come from. “I was going to go to a bookstore but…it was closed.” 

A giggle bubbled from the girl. “A bookstore? You don’t come to Fort Frolic for a bookstore.” 

Jack stiffened, suddenly ashamed as his gaze fell towards the floor. The girl must have noticed his shift and she immediately interjected with, “I’m Elaine, by the way.” 

Oh, she was introducing herself and he perked up. “I’m Jack.” 

“Well, Jack, “ She leaned toward him a bit, “You wanna join us for some drinks at the Cocktail Lounge?” 

“Drinks?” Are they even old enough to drink? 

“Of course! Show you what you really ought to be doing down in Fort Frolic, yeah?” 

“Oh, um - “ No, Jack, you promised Mama Jane and Papa Frank to be good, to not go to places like Posiden’s Plaza…but did Mama Jane say anything about the Cocktail Lounge? He didn’t remember. 

Maybe he could have some water or a lemonade, surely Elaine wouldn’t mind, she seemed nice and understanding. 

“O-ok.” 

Elaine let out an excited squeal and grabbed for Jack’s arm, tugging him along with her back towards the two other boys as Jack dragged his feet a little, unable to keep up with her. An immense sense of apprehension started ringing alarm bells in his head, however, he couldn’t help but fight with the part of him who longed for companionship and friends. Maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe he could get away with having one drink. Yeah, one wasn’t going to hurt him, right? Papa Frank had drinks all the time, and he was ok…most of the time. He even let Jack have a sip of his whiskey once but he didn’t like how bitter it was. He liked the wine Mama Jane drank, it was much sweeter and fruity. 

However, the closer she tugged him towards the two other boys, the more the anxiety grew and lodged itself in his throat. He’s never talked to others his age, just the other girls back in the labs but Miss Tenenbaum never let him stay around them for long. How was he supposed to talk to them? What should he say?! 

“Will!” She called to the tallest among the two other boys with a wave. “This is Jack. He’s not lost, but he’d be willing to join us for drinks!” 

The boy, Will, looked very intimidating with dark hair and a more muscular frame. He had both his hands resting in his pockets with the ghost of a smirk sitting on his lips. 

“Jack, huh?” Dark eyes scanned him from his new Oxford shoes to his face. “I’m Will, Elaine’s boyfriend, an’ this is Louis.” He tilted his head over towards the boy standing to his right. The other boy was rather handsome, about Jack’s height with a leaner frame and trimmed copper hair. Dull green eyes met Jack’s own with a pearly grin and he felt his heart skip a beat. 

Finding his words to stick to the roof of his mouth, Jack could only smile and give a shy wave in response, going rigid in Elaine’s grasp as she gripped his shoulders. 

“Let’s go in and find a table!” She exclaimed, bouncing on her feet behind Jack. “Last time we all had to stand and I’m not doing that again in heels, Will.” 

A smile was slow to lift his features at Elaine’s enthusiasm, ducking his head to hide the dusting of pink to heat his face. He suddenly felt himself being pushed forward again, following the two other boys towards the Cocktail Lounge and the crowds of people spilling out from it. He felt the thumping return to his chest, his breathing picking up with each inhale suddenly not deep enough. 

He shouldn’t be doing this. This was wrong. This was a bar, he was too young, too different to be here. What if they find out he can’t drink because of the medication fighting off the incredible amount of ADAM in his body? What if they make fun of him for not drinking?

“Come on, Jack!” Elaine was now beside him, holding a hand out to him as they stood at the entrance to the Cocktail Lounge. “All the fun’s in here! You’re not gonna get anywhere just standing in the doorway.” 

Jack blinked a couple of times, getting lost in his thoughts as he lifted a tentative hand to place in Elaine’s awaiting palm. She took no time in tugging him in after, Jack stumbling on his feet a bit as the warmth from her hand guided him towards a booth that Will and Louis had spotted. 

His senses already felt like they were in overload just standing in the entryway to the Lounge. Large groups of people gathered with the combined chatter and laughter almost drowning out the music muddled in the background. The lights in the Lounge were also dimmed, allowing the sea-green glow from the ocean to spotlight the tables lining the edge of the small space. It was all so different compared to the crowds of people he experienced in the Fleet Hall, of course, a tad more drunk and unruly. 

“You guys wait here,” Jack whipped his attention back to the group. “I’ll get somethin’ for everyone.” Will nodded his head towards the booth. “What’re you havin’, Jackie?” 

He could barely hear Will over the jukebox adjacent to them and the combined chatter and laughter from varying groups around them. It was all so distracting but exhilarating at the same time and Jack perked up when he heard his name. 

“I’ll have some water, please.” He squeaked, ducking in on himself when Will let out a boisterous cackle. 

“A water? Come on, kid, don’t be a pussy.” He sneered. “Let’s getcha started with a sea breeze or somethin’.” 

A sea breeze? Jack shrugged with a slight nod, it sounded nice, hopefully it wasn’t anything too strong or bitter. Will gave him a sharp smirk and motioned for Louis to come with him while Elaine gestured for Jack to sit first as she slipped into the booth next to him. 

“Don’t mind, Will.” She turned so her body was almost completely facing him, her hand supporting her head against the table. Jack kept his hands in his lap after shimmying in, a little grossed out after finding the table’s surface to be a little sticky. “He’s just upset ‘cause he got kicked out of Le Marquis a little bit ago.” She sighed. “I told him not to bother ‘cause they had cameras everywhere, but he went in and tried to pocket a few cigars anyway. Course they wouldn’t sell any to him normally ‘cause he’s too young.” 

He tried stealing something? 

“O-oh, “ Jack forced a broken chuckle. “It’s ok. I actually don’t, um…drink a lot. And I have a curfew -” 

Another giggle bubbled from Elaine and Jack found the sound quite nice. “A curfew? What, mama and pop gonna kick your ass if you come home late smelling like booze?” 

Well…Papa Frank would for sure. 

Jack could only shrug again in response and Elaine’s features softened a bit with a small smile. “Aw, don’t worry, Jack. It’s just a coupla drinks. I don’t wanna stay here all night anyway. Louis was talking about sneaking into the bathysphere repair bay later. Did you know they just leave everything unlocked down there?! He and Will were riding the hydraulic lifts one night and said it was fun, ‘course you can come along with us too if you’d wanna skip your curfew?” 

The subtle wink she threw his way had him flushed again, and Jack ducked his head in a panic. It does sound fun but…he promised Mama Jane…

Before he could respond, however, Will and Louis returned with a few drinks. Passing something off to Elaine as she squealed with joy, Jack watched as Will set a glass on the table to slide to him. It was a dull red liquid with a few ice cubes and smelled strongly of cranberries. Though, Jack liked cranberries. Mama Jane’s been making cranberry juice from scratch lately and has had Jack be her taste-tester, though he didn’t expect this to be as good as her homemade juice. Still, Jack lifted the glass to his lips and found that it really did just taste like cranberry juice with a bit of grapefruit. Did Will just get him juice and not alcohol? Maybe that’s what a sea breeze was…huh, that was nice of him.

The two boys slid into the booth then, Louis scooting in first and taking the spot across from Jack while Will sat across from Elaine. However, Jack tried to desperately hide the flush to his cheeks as Louis beamed at him, taking a sip from his glass that looked similar to the drinks Papa Frank always had. Giving him another passive glance, butterflies erupted in his chest as he swore Louis also threw Jack a subtle wink and he hid his shyness behind the rim of his glass again. 

“So, Jackie -” Will started after taking a hefty swig from his drink. “What brought you down to Fort Frolic t’night?” 

Jack swallowed another mouthful of his drink, his brows knitting at the slight burn going down his throat. “Um, I had a ticket to see one of Cohen’s shows. It was fun, I wouldn’t mind seeing another one.” 

Will’s features twisted in disgust. “Ugh, Cohen? That fruitcake? Come on, Jackie, there’s plenty of other, better things to see down here.” He interrupted himself with another swig, “Like Eve’s, for example.” 

Jack could see Elaine roll her eyes from his peripheral. “Eve’s is for the drunks and desperate.” She commented with obvious disgust. “I would actually like to see one of Cohen’s shows, but the tickets are so expensive. My folks wouldn’t dream of lending me the money for a ticket that could be used on groceries.”  

“Yeah, how’d you come across a ticket anyway?” Will directed his question towards Jack, “Got folks with lined pockets or somethin’?” 

“Oh, um - “ Jack felt the panic expand in his chest. “I mean…not really. They make enough, but they’ve been saving a bit for the ticket.” Just remember what Papa Frank told you to say if anyone asked about them. “It’s a late birthday gift.” 

“Aw, happy late birthday.” Elaine raised her glass filled with what looked like lemonade to clink against Jack’s. “How old you turn?” 

Um…fifteen, sixteen? Mama Jane said he looked like he was eighteen the other day with how fast he was growing. “Sixteen.” Jack managed to squeak. 

“That’s how old Louis is!” Elaine exclaimed. “Looks like you’re not the baby of the group anymore!”

Louis hid his smile behind the rim of his glass as well with a nonchalant shrug. “So, what do your parents do?” The boy finally spoke to Jack, his voice low and rich which had the butterflies in Jack’s stomach turn to moths, beating their large wings rapidly.  

“They, uh - they work at the Fisheries. My mom’s a secretary and my dad works on the Wharf.” 

Will had set his glass a little too hard along the table then, his drink already half gone. “Fontaine Fisheries. My pa hates that man’s guts, says he’s worse than Ryan an’ deserves to drown off the Wharf’s docks.” 

Jack suddenly felt his skin run hot, the burning in his throat from his drink scorching him from the inside out as he knit his brows. No, Papa Frank’s not worse than Ryan - he’s not a bad man at all. He’s kind and caring and treats him and Mama Jane so nicely. 

“That fiancée of his, though? She’s super pretty.” Elaine commented, Jack noticing her words slurring a bit as her glass was already half empty as well. “She’s super smart too. I wish I could be her when I get older.” 

He found himself nodding in agreement and taking larger gulps of his drink to catch up with the other three. Mama Jane was wonderful and so nice. Jack knew she wasn’t his real mom…Jack didn’t even know who his mom was, but she treated him like her son, taking him in quickly when she first started staying at the complex. 

Jack also noticed then that along with his head’s movements, a weird feeling filled his skull, like it was being stuffed with cotton. And it wasn’t a bad feeling, just…different. Was this the juice? Mama Jane’s cranberry juice never made him feel like this, so…floaty. Maybe he shouldn’t be drinking it so fast.

“Want another refill, Jackie?” Will called over to him from across the table, and Jack noticed his eyes were rather slow to trace over to where the voice was coming from. 

Before a cohesive thought could answer Will’s question, Jack found himself nodding again with a lazy smile. This next one he’ll make sure to drink it more slowly. Maybe he was just really thirsty. The cranberry also tasted really good, but he couldn’t shake the odd burn that accompanied it when he swallowed. There wasn’t any alcohol in this drink, was there? He couldn’t taste anything if there was…

He didn’t want to ask either, not wanting to show his ignorance to this new group of “friends”. Were they his friends now? Is this how you make friends? 

He was starting to relax a little more around them as well, able to look Louis in the eye for longer as they talked. He really liked his eyes, the thought kept repeating in Jack’s mind. He also found another glass being pushed his way a couple of minutes later, replacing the drink he had just barely finished. Jack’s vision blurred a bit after taking another long sip from that glass and was met with the familiar tartness. This time, he also got a hint of something bitter barely hiding under the sweet cranberry, something stronger. 

Things were a little blurry after that second drink. 

He did remember vague conversations regarding the other three, where their parents worked, where they lived, and jobs they were all working already. Jack couldn’t follow any specific details, forgetting them almost as soon as they were spoken to him. What he certainly could never forget was the way Louis’ attention would linger on him a little longer than the other two, and when he talked, he almost talked directly to Jack. Those striking evergreen eyes bored a hole between Jack’s own as his smile remained gentle but teasing. Jack liked listening to him talk the most. 

About three or four drinks later, each glass sitting empty with the remaining clumps of ice cubs creating a pool of condensation along the table, Jack found he could hardly talk without his tongue feeling as if it was just lolling around in his mouth. The noise of the Lounge faded into the background as did the lights and his general sense of time. What time was it? Jack couldn’t even read his watch as he held it up inches from his face. The other three had been talking about something regarding the bathysphere repair bay and finally ditching the Lounge to head there. However, Jack couldn’t seem to keep his eyes open after his most recent glass, a heavyweight settling on his chest and refusing to let him go. A lazy smile still sat on his features, trying to listen to any of the conversations happening around him, but the fuzziness that had been stuffing his head was floating down to blur his vision. 

Maybe if he just rested his eyes for a bit, he could join his new group of friends at the bathysphere repair bay. He was pretty sure he had some time before needing to head back to the complex. 

Leaning his head in his palms, Jack felt his eyes flutter close as the room seemed to spin a bit, the other three not even noticing until Jack was already passed out. 

“We can’t just leave him here, Will.” 

“Where the hell do you expect us to take ‘im then?” 

“But he said he had a curfew -” 

“Whatever. His parents can find ‘im here or somethin’, I ain’t carryin’ ‘im anywhere. Unless you wanna take him, Louis. He was google-eyein’ you up, fuckin’ fairy.” 

“Nah, we can leave him here. I’ll take him another night, if he ever comes back…” 

Then everything went completely dark. 

~*~

A hiccup interrupted Jack’s last statement, tears streaming down his face as the burning, acidic taste lodged itself in the back of his throat again. He almost expected Jane to be furious with him, but his heart shattered as he found her looking at him with such empathy and tenderness. 

“Aw, Jack -” She brushed a bit of his bangs away from his forehead, already lined with a layer of sweat. “They just left you there? Is that where Reggie found you?” 

He nodded slightly, desperately trying to keep the room from swaying and spinning any more with his head’s movements. “I - I didn’t want to do it - I thought they just gave me juice, but it tasted funny after a while and - and I got really dizzy and tired. I wanted t - to make sure I got home in time -” 

Jane hushed him, her voice soft as Jack fell forward to thump his head against her chest. 

“It’s ok, Jack. It’s not your fault, you didn’t know - we hadn’t warned you about a situation like this.” 

Nor did she ever think to tell him that some alcoholic drinks can smell and taste like they don’t have alcohol in them - or that he was particularly susceptible to vodka apparently. Instead, she held him as he sobbed against her nightgown and robe, soaking the material but it didn’t bother her one bit. She could only begin to imagine the guilt eating at him for what he did.  

“I’m so sorry -” He choked on his words, voice muffled into the fabric of her robe. “Papa Frank, he - he’s gonna kill me.” 

She huffed, “No, Jack, he’s not gonna kill you. He’ll be upset, with good reason, but he won’t lay a hand on you.” Jane lifted his face a little, using her robe’s sleeve to wipe at his eyes. “We’ll just tell him what happened.” 

It seemed as if Jack was starting to calm down a bit as he nodded in agreement. Jane turned to Reggie then who was still standing at the entrance to the bathroom, having set the glass of water on the sink’s counter. Asking him to grab a couple of towels and some clean pajamas for Jack in the laundry room, Reggie was quick to leave and gather everything as Jane tried to get Jack up and moving. 

It was almost like getting a newborn deer to stand, the poor kid’s legs wobbling and shaking with tears still blurring his vision. Hoping to get him cleaned up and in some fresh clothes, she knew some rest would do him good to at least ride out a bit of his hangover. 

However, as Jane was helping Jack out of the bathroom, occasionally running the damp cloth along his forehead to keep him cool, there was a sudden commotion downstairs. She heard the echoing of a one-sided heated conversation, then heavy footsteps bounding up the stairs and she instantly braced herself, Jack also tensing beside her. His anger was palpable even before entering the room, Frank stormed in then and threw his jacket aside as it nearly missed the bed. He’d been grumbling to himself, borderline enraged. But before she could put herself between him and Jack, Frank started yelling with features twisting. 

“You little fucker - “ He reached for Jack, fisting the front of the kid’s wrinkled shirt. “You’re fuckin’ lucky you made it back here, kid!” 

“Frank! “ Jane nearly shrieked and grabbed for his wrists to remove his hold on Jack, the boy’s face paling with the fear tangible in his eyes. 

He was stronger than her, however, shrugging her off as he practically lifted the kid up on his toes to get in his face. “You’re fuckin’ lucky Jane’s here too. If it was just me, I’d be sendin’ you back to the labs in a heartbeat! Make sure you never see the goddamn light of day again!” 

Jane huffed as her heart started pounding, anger and a fierce protective instinct bubbling in her own veins as she grabbed for his arm again. “Frank, let go of him!” 

“What the hell were you thinkin’, huh?! You better have a goddamn good excuse if you ever wanna walk outta this complex again!” 

Jack couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore, cold and unyielding razor-sharp steel being held at his throat, turning his head away with tears overflowing in his eyes and face beat red in shame. However, there was barely any warning as Jack’s eyes bugged, scrambling to get away from Frank as the intense welt that had been growing slowly in his throat was now sitting on the back of his tongue. Jane saw his panicked expression as well, her grip tight on Frank’s wrists as she desperately tried to release his hold. 

“Frank, he’s gonna get sick, let him go!” 

He was suddenly on the ground, strong hands no longer holding him on his toes and Jack crumbled to the hard, tiled floor in a heap. Desperately crawling to the toilet, Jack barely made it before he started getting sick again, gagging on wailing sobs. 

“What the hell is wrong with ‘im?!” Frank hollered. “Is he fuckin’ drunk?!” 

Jane had her hands on his chest, keeping him from stepping any closer to Jack. “Frank, he’ll be fine!” She snapped at him. “He’s a little hungover, but just let him be. I’m going to get him cleaned up and into bed, I’ll explain what happened.” 

Frank suddenly grabbed for her wrists, his grip tight enough to bruise. “No, I wanna hear everythin’ from this little shit first, then he’s outta here!” 

Panic turned to fury, and Jane held his narrowed stare with her own, daring him to try and hurt her in any sense. “He’s not going anywhere, Frank.” She tried to keep her own voice steady. “You throw Jack out, I’m going with him. Otherwise, you’re gonna fucking calm down and let me take care of him.” 

When he didn’t move or say anything more right away, Jane tore her wrists from his grasp and leveled him with another hardened look before moving to Jack. Helping him stand on his feet again, the poor kid was vibrating with fear as Jane let him bear some of his weight against her, trying to get him out of that bathroom as quickly as possible. Barely sparing Frank a second glance, she left him to fume and wallow in his own anger, flinching only a little as he slammed the toilet lid closed after flushing it. 

~

After getting him cleaned up and settled with new clothes and some pain medication for a slow-growing headache, she stayed by his bedside to help calm him down. Poor Jack had been shaking with a mix of adrenaline and fear, even after separating him from Frank, and she cursed at herself for not reacting quickly enough to protect the boy. Rearranging the chilled cloth she had on his forehead, she continued stroking his hair while humming softly. Jack hadn’t said much after leaving the bathroom, clamming up completely and answering any of her questions and comments with a shake or nod of his head. But she knew not to push him and instead followed small cues for what he needed. A small glance towards the glass on his desk for water, another towards his bedside lamp to turn the light out. And finally, she watched his eyes slide shut and his breathing deepen, seeing him calm for the first time since he’s come home. 

Removing the cloth, she placed a tender kiss on his forehead, making sure the small wastebin she brought in in case he got sick again was close enough to his bed. She kept his door cracked as well, taking a deep breath and gathering his clothes in her arms from last night before heading back to the bedroom. Not sure if Frank was going to be there or not, she steeled her nerves and held her breath as she entered. 

Finding the space rather empty and quiet, Jane exhaled a sigh and paced over to the laundry basket as she debated on starting a load. Granted, the weight burdening her eyes pleaded with her to go back to bed, but she still wanted to be awake for Jack just in case he needed anything. Automatically pacing over toward her closet, she started sifting through her laundry basket and separating the lights and darks until the familiar creaking of the office door echoed throughout the room. 

Already exhausted, she barely flinched when a hand suddenly brushed her lower back. The tension was still palpable from earlier, however, settling in the air around them like brine and she felt his breath puff along the back of her neck.  

“I’m sorry, Jane.” The words were barely whispered. 

An apology? Well, they never do cease to surprise her, especially from him. And yet she hoped he didn’t notice the huffed laugh under her breath and quick smirk. “I’m not the one you need to be apologizing to.” 

A heavy sigh. “I know, but I grabbed you too.” 

“Oh, please - “ She turned to face him, folding a blouse in her hands. “You think I can’t handle you when you’re mad?” Jane tried to keep a neutral expression but felt her lips tilt in a small smile. “I saw how scared you were before you left to find Jack. You’re always hiding your fear behind anger, Frank.” 

That seemed to shut him up for a second, his brow creasing as she turned to continue separating the laundry. “What happened? What did Jack tell you?” 

Jane watched him move to stand in her peripheral, “It sounds like he was hazed.” She sighed. “He wanted to go to the bookstore I was telling him about, but he said it was closed. Guess there were a lot of stores closed by Ryan’s Council near the Cocktail Lounge.” Jane ignored how he seemed to perk up at that detail. “I guess a group of kids saw him and thought he was lost. They invited him for a few drinks and it sounds like one of the kids pressured him into trying a few drinks with some tasteless vodka. Jack thought they were just cranberry juice.” 

A scoff immediately followed her last statement as she watched him grab for the clothes he was wearing out to find Jack, separating them into her laundry basket. 

“It’s obvious now, that we should have warned Jack but…I guess I just didn’t expect a group of kids to take advantage of him like that.” Jane lowered the last dark blouse into the laundry basket, trying her best to make the guilt riddling her own tone less evident. "I mean, Jack said he had to have had around three or four drinks, enough to cause him to pass out essentially and for those kids to just...leave him there."

A hand returned to her lower back but she didn’t acknowledge him just yet. “It makes me sick just thinking about it.” 

It honestly made him sick thinking about it too. Jack was a half-a-million dollar project that didn’t come with a plan B., Frank never considered just not needing the kid. Never did he expect to get attached to him as much as he did. He wasn’t scared earlier because Jack was half a million dollars walking around potentially lost or in trouble. Frank had taken him in, Jack was his kid, his responsibility. It was his kid out there lost, probably scared, and in potential trouble. And as much as he hated to admit it to himself, that all had to stop here. 

He had to start training the kid, especially after hearing Ryan and his pretentious council were closing stores and shuttering businesses in Fort Frolic no less. 

Something was on the horizon, and if his gut was right, it didn’t seem good. 

Placing a tender kiss to her temple, Frank let Jane continue her chore and left the bedroom for Jack’s. She was right, he had to do damage control with the kid or he was never going to trust him. Yet, as he approached Jack’s bedroom, a faint gagging sound had him opening the door in a flurry to find the kid leaning over his bed getting sick in the waste bin sitting on the floor. 

“Jesus, kid.” Frank rushed to Jack’s bed to grab the bin, lifting it so it was in closer proximity to him as Jack coughed with a pained whine. “Worst way to find out you’re a lightweight, huh?” 

The kid’s side eye held little venom as Frank tried to make light of the situation, shrugging with an empathetic smile as he lifted a hand to rub between Jack’s shoulders. His skin was sweltering under the cotton pajama shirt, shaking almost violently with each dry heave into the bin and Frank couldn’t help but feel like shit for treating the kid like he did earlier. Yet, there was a truth to Jane’s words - he’s always hidden fear behind his rage, it was instinctual at this point. That’s how he became Fontaine and all the other aliases before. Apparently, he still needed to work on letting that ingrained part of him drop, along with his mask, around Jane and Jack. 

All he could do now was try to comfort the kid, continuing his hand’s soothing motion along Jack’s sweat-lined back with a faint “I’m sorry” muttered to the kid as he finally slouched away from the bin. Exhausted, dark hazel eyes met his own as Jack leaned forward to thump his head along Frank’s chest, broken sobs mixed with attempts to apologize as well. Frank could only shake his head at the display, a small smile accompanying the hand on the kid’s back rising to run through his hair to calm him. 

Sick, hungover, or whatever, Frank felt like he was finally able to heave a sigh of relief then. Regardless of his fleeting thought of using Jack again for his intended purpose, he was just glad to have his kid back home and safe. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

Ryan swirled the champagne in his glass, the bubbles popping and fizzing around the untouched rim. He scanned the crowds entering the Welcome Center, giving the occasional nod to a passerby but never saying anything beyond a hello or welcome. 

He wanted to ensure his special guests arrived before mingling, having made the mistake at his New Year's party already. He intended to greet them that night, maybe poke and prod a bit to get information about the Futuristics, only to find himself engrossed in multiple conversations with other guests. He’d spent most of the party then looking for the two only to find they never came. Feeling like a complete fool for wasting as much time as he did that night, Ryan kept himself planted at the entrance to the Center where he had a good view of the incoming crowd and the second entrance from the private bathysphere dock. 

He was just about to take that first sip from his glass too before finally spotting his special guests enter from the bathysphere dock, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Stanley had been hovering nearby, camera hanging from a withered strap around his neck with that booze-stained notepad sticking out of his shirt’s pocket. Ryan glanced towards the reporter, maintaining his gaze until Stanley met his attention to which Ryan gave him a single nod. 

They’re here.  

The reporter was off, giving an obvious thumbs up as Ryan rolled his eyes at the gesture, keeping the glass to his lips as he took a small sip. His plan was rather simple for this gala: capture any damning evidence he could to potentially ruin Fontaine and Jane’s image. 

As of recently, Ryan couldn’t help the feeling of overwhelming suffocation, with his Industries especially. Jane has joked in her little Herald interviews about taking over this electrical project and shouldering Ryan completely from the business. However, Ryan’s been laughing less and less at a joke recently turning into a rather confident statement. 

And while they also had that, rather quick, conversation about the ads the Futuristics were doing to support Jane and her energy conservation messages, the meeting ended sourly. In the end, there was no official line in the contract stating they couldn’t do these advertisements, and that it would be rather “unprofessional” for Ryan to implement such a rule into the contract so late into the project. Of course, rules can be changed, but it was two against one in that meeting - to which Ryan had lost, rather unfairly in his mind. 

However, if he couldn’t stop them or put them in their place, maybe the Tribune could. A worthwhile distraction could go a long way in allowing him time to figure out his next steps in forcing the two to step down. 

He wasn’t giving up without a fight. 

~

This gala was certainly more mellow than usual. Jane noted this as she saw people standing around in small groups conversing over glasses of champagne. It was a bit last minute as well and scheduled for the mid-afternoon instead of the late-night parties Ryan was known for throwing. If anything, the soft jazz emanating from a live band near the makeshift bar and slow crowds would give the idea that this was maybe a networking event. Recently, Ryan seemed to extend his invitations to everyone and anyone who at least had the money for an Express ticket. At this gala, however, she started to recognize more prominent faces - from the Industries especially. Curious. 

No matter, she kept her grip lax along Frank’s arm, trailing at his side as they traversed through the Welcome Center. Eventually, they were able to snag two flutes from a passing server’s tray, weaving around a few groups until they found solace near a window. 

“I wonder if Ryan’s looking for us,” Jane muttered, glancing at the few sea stars stuck to the bottom corner of the glass before turning back to the crowd. 

Frank scoffed, hiding a smirk behind the flute’s rim. “Considerin’ the last meetin’ we had, I wouldn’t mind not seein’ that dick right now.” 

“Frank,” Jane hissed, yet she couldn’t dismiss her own smile. “Be nice.” 

The hand that had been resting along her lower back gave a playful pinch to her side through the fabric of her dress, and she muffled a surprised squeak with her hand before swatting his away. However, his arm was back to wrap around her waist, bringing her side flush to his front as he hid a smile in her hair. 

“I am bein’ nice, Doll.” He chuckled softly. “Didn’t come in itchin’ for ‘nother fight with the guy, did I?” 

“No -” Jane hummed around the rim of her glass. “But it would be rather unprofessional if he approached looking for a conversation and you walked off. We won that last argument about the project’s contract, mind you.”

His chuckle exhaled as a sharp puff against her temple. “I know, but he had no reason in talkin’ down to you like he did.” She could practically feel the irritation start to bubble beneath his skin. “Callin’ you incompetent, ignorant.” 

“Frank -” She turned in his grasp, lifting a hand to straighten out his tie as she spoke with her voice hushed. “That’s behind us now. It was rude, but the man was being backed into a corner. I don’t fault him for trying to defend himself and his business.” 

Jane met those sea-gray eyes with a smirk curling her lips, tilting her chin up to tease a faint kiss. “Have to let him do all the dirty talking he wants before we yank the Industries out from under him, yeah?”

She watched his features narrow, the hand on her waist gripping and pulling her into a brief but intense kiss. “That’s right.” He spoke when they separated, voice deep and rich. “You still gotta plan for that?”

Patting his tie, Jane turned to sweep the crowd, almost immediately spotting Ryan with a decent group already surrounding him and the wicked smile returned. 

“Absolutely.” 

After spending a few minutes conversing with themselves, Jane suggested they split up to find some potential opportunities to advertise. Having spotted the head of Rapture’s Radio station, she was quick to find the man again while Frank veered off after seeing the Herald’s director, wanting to talk shop with the guy and their next segment ideas. 

Both were conversations worthwhile and Jane walked away with a business card as well as a time and date to meet with the radio’s head again to discuss slots for her advertisements. Seeing Frank talking to the Herald’s director, she made her rounds throughout the Welcome Center, saying hello to familiar faces and catching up with Dr. Langford; whom she was delighted to see.  

It had to have been a good two hours when Jane found herself back at the same window waiting for Frank to finish his conversations. Unfortunately, her feet had begun to ache in these heels and she cursed at herself for wearing them. Knowing very well they were the worst pair she owned when it came to comfort but looked great with almost every dress she had. Trying to distract herself, her attention wandered out to the city, taking in every glowing neon sign and school of fish to disturb the ocean’s natural debris otherwise floating almost motionless in the water column. 

A long and deep sigh dripped from her lips, fogging the glass just slightly and she huffed before wiping at the condensation. In the reflection of the glass, she noticed someone approaching from behind with a warmth to simultaneously settle on her lower back.  

“Just a little while longer, Doll.” His breath was soft against her ear. “Gotta talk to someone real quick then we can leave.” 

Jane nodded to Frank’s reflection and the kiss to her temple was shallow. She watched him disappear into the crowd behind her, absentmindedly taking another sip from her flute only to find she was scrapping at a dry glass. Well, if she had some time to kill, might as well get a refill. 

~

The woman beamed up to him from her spot on the padded bench. “Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Fontaine.” Though, she had already made eye contact with the man earlier as he sought out the Herald’s director. 

The smile barely lifted the corner of his lips as he took the empty spot next to her. “Likewise, Silvia. Didn’t think Ryan would have given you an invite.” 

She shrugged, already nursing a rather large glass of wine. “Eh, guess Ryan just wants people to show up at these things anymore.” 

Honestly, he could have told her that after doing a quick sweep of the room. 

Silvia shifted to cross her legs then, throwing her long blond curls over her shoulder before sighing. “So, what do you got for me today, boss? Better make it quick, Ryan’s been…hovering.” She made the point with a glance over her shoulder, spotting Ryan intermixed with a group but almost too close for comfort 

Frank acknowledged the uncomfortable proximity as well and cleared his throat, shifting a little closer to her with voice low. “I want you to find out why Ryan’s council’s been shuttin’ down businesses, particularly in Fort Frolic.” 

Silvia leaned back, full, pink glossed lips pursing into a pout. “Fontaine -” She raised her hand to her chest, glancing back towards Ryan. Frank could only roll his eyes at her theatrics. “Ryan’s council? That could involve some risky eavesdropping, you know? Some meeting infiltrations? You know he doesn’t allow me to hang around long after I drop off their coffees.” 

Frank couldn’t help the breathless chuckle, reaching around to grab his wallet from his back pocket to fish for something that could easily change her mind. Pulling out two crisp hundred-dollar bills, Silvia lifted a brow at the offering. 

“Two hundred dollars? You’re being generous today, Mr. Fontaine.” She reached to pluck the bills from his grasp, matching pink nails glittering in the overhead spotlights.“Though I should feel grateful, not gonna use this money on that fiancée of yours?” 

He wasn’t overly fond of the bitter tone barely spitting the word ‘fiancée’, yet he could only shrug with a twisting grin. “Nah, of course not.” Silvia perked up a bit as Frank pocketed his wallet only to state rather nonchalantly, “Jane gets more.” 

The woman immediately slouched with a soft “Oh”, smile upturned with a slightly disappointed knit to her brow, trying to hide it but doing a rather piss-poor job. Frank gave her a semi-empathetic smile but quickly brushed her dismay aside. 

“So,” he dropped his voice, stealing a side glance towards Ryan to still find the man preoccupied. “Whatdya got for me today, Silvie?” 

She suddenly sat up straight, flicking her hair back over her shoulder again as she scooted closer.  “Oo! I’ve actually got something good for you,” Frank tried desperately to not acknowledge the front of her silver gown as it slipped down a bit. “A conversation I heard between Sullivan and Ryan speaking just outside my office the other day.” 

Frank’s attention shifted instantly, finding himself to lean in as well, motioning her to continue. However, just as Silvia started explaining the apparent heated conversation between the two men, Frank couldn’t help but notice a certain reporter just over her shoulder with his camera ready, and his stomach flipped. 

Shit. 

~

Luckily, Jane hadn’t strayed too far from the makeshift bar, smiling at the bartender as she requested another refill. She didn’t recognize the man, someone different than who usually attends Ryan’s galas. But, he was sweet, topping off her Tom Collins with a bright red cherry and a wink. She returned his gesture with a smile and decided to linger at the bar as the man moved to the opposite end to fill another’s glass. 

She set the rim to her lips, eyes scanning the immediate area in hopes of finding someone who would promise a quick conversation. 

That is until she set her gaze on Fontaine and…another woman?

Straightening her posture, an immediate heat rose to her face. A white-hot burn started to thrum through her veins with a wave of incomprehensible anger fuzzing her vision for a second. 

Now, she’s seen Frank interact with other women, and she always knew each conversation was usually business-related and reasonable. This woman, however, was being particularly cozy with him while Frank seemed rather unphased, which left her all the more confused along with a harsh acidic taste to flare in her throat. 

He did just say a moment ago that he had one last person to talk to before they’d leave. Was this woman it? Did he seriously just tell her he had someone to talk to and then partake in this intimate exchange, right in front of her?! 

Jane felt her heart skip a beat when the woman lifted her gaze and snagged on her own for a split second. A gross smirk followed, and the woman scooted closer to him on the bench. Jane tightened her grip on her glass, setting the bottom on the counter with a sharp clank. Her jaw set as she watched the woman shift to cross her legs, the slit in her dress opening to expose her right knee and part of her thigh. Frank glanced at the motion, and Jane tried everything to convince herself that she didn’t see the smirk crawl across his lips. 

She didn’t even notice that she’d been breathing heavily, chest heaving when the woman’s hand lifted to settle on his knee. She had positioned her other hand under her chin as she listened to Frank talk, their conversation unheard over the rest of the crowd; but the gleam in her eyes was telling it must have been interesting enough. 

Though, it was hard to deny the woman was pretty. Long blond, curled hair that draped over one shoulder with her silver evening dress shimmering in the light. She had a cute button nose and a lean face. Beautiful even, and a sharp twang of insecurity cut even further into the dark hole opening up in Jane’s chest the longer she watched them.

He’s just playing a part, right? She kept repeating to herself. This woman has to be another employee of sorts. 

Or a side-piece. 

The thought was sudden, interrupting all other assumptions and she felt herself get even more flustered, tears threatening to brim along her eyes. But, she blinked them back as quickly as they appeared and she huffed, the anger from earlier returning with a vengeance. 

“Fine.” She growled under her breath. 

Two can play at that game.  

Doing a complete one-eighty, Jane turned to the opposite end of the bar where a few tables and benches lined the wall of windows she had just been standing at. Scanning each occupied chair with a careful eye, a wicked smile replaced her scowl once finding the person she had only glanced at earlier. And she moved towards him like a predator hunting for prey. 

“Mr. Fitzpatrick!” Jane called, pacing up to the empty chair opposite the man who sat at one of the tables, nursing his drink. He jumped a little once hearing her, turning with hazel eyes growing wide. 

“Miss Hartley -” He stammered. “I - I apologize! I, um, I didn’t see you there.” 

Jane feigned her best giggle and pointed to the empty chair. “Mind if I?” 

“Oh, of course not!” Fitzpatrick stood quickly and moved to pull the chair out for her, waiting until she was seated before scooting her chair closer to the table. 

At least he was a gentleman.

She watched him take his seat then, his posture a little straighter and attention on the crowds with a slight pink to flush his cheeks. Apparently, the rumors going around Fort Frolic saw Fitzpatrick to be incredibly shy, to which she was experiencing firsthand but found it adorable nonetheless. 

“I apologize for intruding,” Jane interrupted the sudden silence hanging between them. “I just needed a place to sit,” And when she managed to meet his gaze, she gave him a warm smile. “And some company.” 

A crooked grin grew on Fitzpatrick’s face, “Company, huh?” He shifted his drink between his hands, his attention to the bubbles popping in his champagne glass. “Thought you came here with Fontaine?” 

“Oh, I did.” She heaved a dramatic sigh. “But, he likes to wander off. I’m not sure where he could be at the moment. Besides -” Jane lifted a bold, painted finger to lightly trace the creased patterns of the musician’s jacket sleeve. “I’ve always wanted to sing you the praise you deserve for your music and performances, just never had the chance to find you one-on-one like this.” 

She watched as the alcohol stain on his cheeks darkened, Fitzpatrick chuckling almost out of disbelief with eyes drifting down to where her fingers were lingering on his wrist. 

“Why - thank you, Miss Hartley -” 

“Jane.” She interjected. “Call me Jane.” 

“Jane.” He cleared his throat as she leaned a bit closer. “The, uh, the only reason I’m even here is ‘cause I tagged along with Cohen and Finnegan. Rodriguez didn’t want to come and Ryan gave Cohen three tickets, I guess.” 

She tisked, pouting a little. “That’s a shame. If I were Ryan, I’d give you one of the first tickets I had available.” 

In all honesty, she wasn’t lying. The man gave incredible performances in the Fleet Hall, which she’s had the pleasure of seeing a couple of times already. A talented musician on the piano, saxophone, trumpet, you name it. It was a shame he wasn’t as admired as his creative counterparts. 

She received another shy smile, the man taking a tentative sip of his champagne before allowing her fingers to tangle with his own. Jane had to do everything to suppress a cooked smile and urge to glance over her shoulder to meet Frank’s heated gaze, feeling as if the side of her face was being scorched by the distant attention. 

“That’s very kind of you, Jane.” 

However, a slight pinch of guilt riddled her subconscious. Fitzpatrick was rather handsome, a gentleman, and very talented. He always kept his hair nice and trimmed, a soft shade of brown that occasionally hung in his eyes. He wasn’t tall or broad, but he had his endearments and quirks. He made it way too easy to play her little game. She honestly felt bad for choosing the man to mess around with in the first place, to make Frank jealous. Should have gone with the bartender. 

“Of course, Mr. Fitzpatrick,” Jane responded with a lazy grin. 

“Kyle -” He lifted her hand to place a soft kiss on her knuckle, and her heart actually fluttered at the gesture. “You can call me Kyle.” Her chest swelled with pride, allowing the man to keep a loose grip on her hand. 

Then, it suddenly felt like hours had gone by with how long she’d been talking to Fitzpatrick. Both of them gravitated towards the other until she was practically in his lap, one of his hands resting on her knee from under the table and drifting up. And she allowed him, a hand supporting her chin as she listened to him talk music, talk about his life on the surface, school, hard-strung parents who didn’t believe in him, a lawyer for a brother, and a woman who left him for another who had more money lining his pockets. 

“Rapture was the only place left for an opportunity.” He said at some point, and she couldn’t agree more. 

She was also just about to take things a step further until a heavy weight grabbed at her right shoulder, and she didn’t even need to look at the person to know who it was. Fitzpatrick, however, appeared mortified at the look he must have been given, and the poor man scooted back in his own chair, gaze immediately focusing on the empty champagne flute in front of him. 

“Are you finished here?” The tone was rough, a growl rumbling under his words. 

She wasn’t sure who he was directing his question to, but he sounded pissed. And while that was her goal in the first place, she still felt bad for Fitzpatrick, the man looking absolutely horrified. 

“Frank,” Jane turned to finally acknowledge him, biting on the inside of her cheeks to hide the smirk at his borderline furious expression. “It’s about time, and I was having a rather pleasant conversation with Mr. Fitzpatrick here.” 

The clench in his jaw was primal, and all the more satisfying. “Let’s go.” He huffed, a command and nothing more. 

Standing from her seat, she gave Fitzpatrick a little wave before Fontaine grabbed for her wrist, tugging her along through the crowd. She grimaced at the twinge of pain in her feet, trying to walk fast enough to keep up with him as they wove past varying groups of people and out of the Welcome Center. Once they entered the bathysphere station, he let go of her wrist, only for her to replace his hand with her own to soothe the skin where he had been gripping too hard. 

As he entered the code to call their bathysphere, she noticed his shoulders were set and rigid. Yet she could only scoff inwardly, thinking how dare he be upset when she had caught him red-handed first. How dare he think she had no right to be upset as well, even after watching the questionable exchange between him and another woman so openly, no less?

They boarded the bathysphere without a word to each other, and she took her usual spot on the right bench. Frank opted to stand at the control panel as the ride back wasn’t too far to Mercury Suites. And she almost expected him to say something further once the sphere descended into the ocean, to mutter poisoned words through gritted teeth on what the hell she was thinking and why Fitzpatrick of all people?

Instead, it was just silence. A silence that could only be sliced with a butcher's knife as it sat palpable and thick in the limited air between them. Straightening her spine, Jane gave a few side glances to the man who also stood taut and unmoving, one hand in his pocket and the other gripping the lever to the control panel tight. She watched his grip loosen and tighten as well, appearing as if he was starting to grow restless. 

They disembarked from the bathysphere moments later, returning to the stillness of Mercury Suite’s lobby with Frank rather quick to call the elevator to his complex; never sparing her a second glance. While it seemed rather childish, she couldn’t help but feel as if he was skating an edge, and the second they were alone up in his complex, he’d finally explode. Regardless, she already started to feel the defensiveness tighten her chest and cause her heart to pound as they entered the compact space of the elevator. There was no way in hell she’d allow herself to be painted as the only bad guy tonight. She’d give him the cold shoulder just as well and just as fierce. 

It was obvious that the thick briny cloud was still suffocating them as they entered the complex, Jane made an immediate bee-line to the bedroom to escape it; taking off her heels before even making it up the stairs. It was rather quiet as well, assuming Jack and Reggie were still at the Farmer’s Market, which was probably a good thing. Jane didn’t think either of them would want to be here for whatever chaos was about to ensue.  

And just as she was through the bedroom door, reaching to start removing her earrings, a solid grip was sudden along her wrist. Yanking her hand and pulling her until she was knocked flushed against the window, Jane dropped her heels, the shoes clattering angrily to the floor. A yelp bubbled from her as he towered over her, pinning her wrist above her head and against the glass. 

“What the hell do you think you were doin’ back there?” He snarled, voice low and rough, like sandpaper over a gritty surface with his opposite arm lifted to lean against the window, trapping her. 

A scoff brushed past her lips. “I was merely giving you a taste of your own medicine.” She bit back, hoping it stung enough. “You have nothing to say after deciding to openly flirt with another woman in front of me like that.” 

Something shifted in his expression then, startling her as his previous look of utter fury sharpening his features relaxed into slight amusement with his cool gray eyes narrowing. The grip on her wrist loosened a bit as she watched his jaw clench. 

“You thought I was flirtin’ with her?” 

Jane knit her brows, huffing. “What the hell else were you doing?!” She spat. “I saw you leering at every exposed part of her!” 

Those same eyes darkened with his lip quirking, stating rather confidently. “You were jealous.” 

The defensiveness building in her chest suddenly sputtered from her. “Je - jealous? You’re kidding - she was practically in your lap, Frank!” Her back straightened against the glass, the coolness from the ocean creating patches of goosebumps along her skin.  

“An’ what ‘bout you and Fitzpatrick?” He countered, grip tightening on her wrist again, pressing her back against the window. “Need I remind you how close you were gettin’ to that pathetic rat?”

The edge to his words was encouraging, and she took the chance to flip the table. 

“What, were you jealous?”

She saw his eyes shift slightly, turning a stormy gray that frightened her a little bit. 

“I don’t get jealous.” He snapped, “Especially not over some low-life like Fitzpatrick.” 

Jane heard it then, the slight waver to his tone like he barely believed himself. It was enough to give her a surge of confidence, pushing against him again and yanking her wrist from his grasp with a scowl. 

“Then what the hell was I supposed to do, huh?” She hissed before bending to pick up her shoes and stomping further into the bedroom. “Sit there and watch you cheat on me!” Yelling over her shoulder, Jane tossed her shoes onto the loveseat and turned to him with a huff, crossing her arms tight over her chest.

His brow quirked as he followed her, hands in his pockets with posture lax. “Cheat on you?” The next smile to curl his lips was mean. “Come on, we’re not actually engaged, Jane - you know that.”  

Her stomach flipped at his words, realizing then that maybe she was becoming too entangled in this lie that even she was forgetting wasn’t real. They weren’t engaged. Yet the sight of another woman’s hands on him still stung, still churned her stomach, and burned the back of her throat. Yeah, they weren’t engaged, but they still had something. The ring on her finger was a testament to that. 

“An’ that wasn’t cheatin’.” He interrupted her thoughts. “Silvia just happens to like the attention, an’ flauntin’ herself.” 

Jane’s lip curled over her teeth. “Oh, so you’re on a first-name basis, huh?” And before he could respond, she turned on her heels, her back to him as she paced towards her dresser to place her earrings and necklace in her jewelry dish. 

“Can’t do business otherwise, if I don’t know her name.” He called over to her. 

Innocent enough, yet his words had her seeing red. “What the hell are you talking about?” She practically growled under her breath, catching his gaze in the reflection of the small mirror on her dresser. “What business? Have to secure those transactions with your side piece?” Turning back to him, she couldn’t help the bubbling fury igniting in her chest. 

She had hoped her words were hitting a nerve, but that stupid grin returned and remained plastered on his face. 

“Not jealous, huh?” 

Something snapped in her then, stomping back over to him with hell burning in her eyes. Instantly raising her hand, the muscles in her arm clenched, ready to strike but he was much quicker and stronger. Able to snatch her wrist without hesitating, he pulled her flush against his front with his other hand gripping hard along her hip. 

Another choked squeak of surprise was muffled as she started thrashing in his grasp, but he was unmoving. Her hand flexed into claws that scratched at his shirt, feet lifting to try and stomp on his own, anything to get him to let go. But his hold was unrelenting, even as he reached for her other hand to grab for that wrist as well. Holding her almost at arm's reach as she continued to struggle in his grasp. 

Fuck him.  

“Frank, let go of me!” She clenched her jaw tight, eyes squeezing shut as the anger started to simmer to frustration, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. “Why are you doing this? ” Her voice started to betray her as well, cracking around her words. “Why are you pushing me so hard about this?”

His response didn’t come immediately, letting her continue to struggle until she slowly grew tired of fighting against him. Her movements held little weight behind them, her pushing and pulling growing weaker until she heaved a shaky breath with her head hanging towards the floor. The tiles blurred as another welling of tears brimmed, watching as the polished points of his Oxfords stepped into view. 

The grip on her wrists relented a bit, loosening enough to where she could slip her hands from his again if she wanted. Yet, she was becoming so exhausted mentally and physically, she allowed her arms to hang by his palms. She barely even noticed as he laced his fingers between her own. 

“‘Cause you’re kinda hot when you’re mad.” 

Her attention snapped up to him, leveling him with an equally confused and astonished glare. 

“I’m - what?” 

What the hell did he just say?

“You’re hot -” He attempted to pull her closer again, and she took a couple of tentative steps toward him. “When you’re mad, Baby Jane.” He leaned in close with lips a breath away with each word feather-light against her own. “An’ it’s fun to watch ‘cause I know what you’re capable of when you’re mad.” 

Of course he does. Which is why he probably saw her hand reaching to hit him a mile away. It still didn’t deter her thoughts, only making her angrier realizing he was just playing her like an instrument at this point. 

Before she could respond, however, he beat her to the punch. “Don’t think I didn’t know what I was doing talkin’ to her?” A scoff. “I knew she was watchin’ you, tryin’ to make you jealous too. Just, didn’t expect you to respond by gettin’ comfortable with Fitzpatrick - especially with Stanley slinkin’ around.” 

A sharp huff slipped past her lips and against his own. “I saw him.” She sneered, “And I know now photos of you and that woman are going to be plastered all over Rapture.” 

Yanking her hands from his again, she turned away to start undoing the zipper of her dress. 

“An’ you don’t think he caught you an’ Fitzpatrick?” 

Jane bit the inside of her cheek to hide the smirk, tilting her head down as she spoke to the tiled floor beneath her bare feet. “No, I knew he saw us. I made eye contact with the man a couple of times.” 

“An’ you still let Fitzpatrick touch you, get cozy with you?” 

She swallowed her tongue, continuing the task of undoing her zipper. Keeping her back towards him, the dress eventually slipped from her figure to pool around her ankles. And if it wasn’t for the slip under her dress, the burn of his attention would have scorched the skin along her back.  

“I had to.” She eventually muttered, barely speaking over her shoulder. “I needed something to make you jealous. Evidently, it worked.” 

There was a sudden presence behind her, his words heavy against the shell of her ear. 

“Think so?” 

The weight from his gaze behind her could have buckled her knees if she wasn’t already holding onto a bit of resentment for the man. “I know so.”

She spoke to him over her shoulder again. “Fontaine might be one of the most feared men in Rapture, but you’re still just a man, Frank.” The huff of his breath was warm along her shoulder as she stated, “No matter how hard you try, you can’t disguise your own lust - your jealousy.” 

At this point, she was just twisting the dagger, hoping to pull more blood, hoping to set him off and admit what he did was wrong - to apologize. 

“Apparently, I can hide it from everyone but you.” His words dripped like poisoned honey on her skin. 

Turning to look at him, she was almost startled by the serious set to his features. But it didn’t deter her from the snark to sit sour on her tongue. 

“Hmm, and what does that say about me?” 

“That you’re a pain in my ass.” He almost immediately responded, though with very little bite. 

A chuckle bubbled from her. “Your ass? Ha!” Jane took a step closer to him and out of her dress still piled on the floor. “Says the man who forcefully pulled me away from a rather pleasant conversation with Fitzpatrick just because I caught him getting handsy with another woman. Which apparently my little show wasn’t enough to get you to apologize for something you started.”

“Somethin’ that I started?” 

Jane sputtered, “Yes! Are you blind?!” She lifted an accusing finger towards him. “I was standing there with a drink in my hand waiting to go home and I see that bitch with her hands all over you and you gawking at her.” 

The anger was starting to boil beneath her skin, thinking for a second there that Frank was done trying to poke and prod at her. It was starting to become rather obvious he was purposely trying to set her off, rial her up enough. And while she knew it was something he took immense pleasure in, seeing her as she was - at her most authentic self - on the surface; she just wished he just told her what he wanted rather than get her fired up to forcibly pry it from him instead. 

Or maybe that’s exactly what he wanted. 

“Then why don’tcha do somethin’ about it.” He suggested confidently, leaning a bit to crowd in on her. 

It hit her then, that smug tone to riddle his voice. That’s exactly what he was doing. He wanted to see her irritated, wanted to see her feathers ruffle, to be jealous enough to take back what was hers. 

Her brow quirked, “Oh,” the ghost of a smirk tilted her lips as she muttered. “You want me to do something about it, huh?” 

They held each other’s gaze for a second, electricity felt thrumming between them as Jane lifted an assertive hand to grab for his tie. Pulling it from the vest he had so neatly tucked in, she wound the fabric between her fingers with a wicked grin now splitting her features. 

Fine. If he wanted to play this game, she’d make sure to remind him he had set himself up to lose from the start.

Still, he didn’t move, didn’t try to pull himself away from her as she lifted herself on her toes to finally yank on his tie. Wrenching him toward her, she captured his lips in a hungry, possessive kiss. It was mostly a distraction as she pushed him toward his side of the bed, the back of his knees hitting the mattress as she separated herself and shoved him away. He was able to catch himself with a grunt, sitting on the bed as she forced his knees apart for her to stand between. 

Just as he was reaching for her waist, probably hoping to maybe change her mind with a few teasing touches, Jane snatched his wrist with one quick, fluid motion. His slightly startled look had her biting the inside of her cheek to hide the devilish smirk. 

“No.” She stated, the word sickly-sweet as it rolled off her tongue. 

He met her gaze with a curious tilt to his features, and Jane leaned forward while lifting his wrist, her lips inches from his own. She noted that the deep red of her painted nails was a beautiful contrast against the smoky black of his suit’s jacket sleeve and a few ideas started formulating on what sort of punishment she’d be happy to indulge herself in. 

“You are not allowed to touch me.” Her tone dipped, serious but laced with delicious sin. “If you lay even a finger on me, I will walk out and leave you here a writhing mess on these bedsheets.” 

Frank’s fingers flexed in her grasp, already itching to defy her rules. “No restraints?” He questioned with a raised brow. 

It was a rather tempting suggestion, eyeing up the tie that matched perfectly with her nails, the gilded blood red holding him to her mercy. And yet, she had a lesson she wanted to instill. 

“No.” She stated again. “I’m going to teach you some mental restraint, with that comes physical. Then maybe you won’t want to lay your hands on another woman again.” Her grip tightened along his wrist, nails almost biting into his skin. “If you want to touch me, you’ll have to earn it from me.” 

Letting his wrist go, she took a few steps back out from between his legs. Distancing herself further, she watched his features harden while trying to keep an air of calm. A heavy breath expanded his chest, hands balling into fists along his thighs as he awaited her next move. Jane hummed to herself as she watched him, doing a once-over of the layers of expensive clothes that made up his many suits. She debated on having him keep each article on, shielding himself further from her in a finely tailored prison. And yet, what pleasure would that bring her? While she loved the look of a well-dressed man, it was her turn to be selfish, to have him in whatever way she wanted. 

“Undress.” She finally spoke, commanding as she crossed her arms. “Only down to your slacks and undershirt.” 

Frank threw her a raised brow before slowly standing from the mattress. Shedding his suit jacket, Jane watched with a rather obvious look of twisted fascination and desire. Her eyes followed each motion as he threw his jacket off towards the end of the bed, taking his time in dropping his suspenders to hang from his pants. Unbuttoning his shirt next, he made sure to keep his movements painfully slow, the fabric stretching over his shoulders with an evident intent to tease her. 

“What about you?” He muttered between a smirk and a slight nod in her direction, noting she was still in her slip and underwear. 

A soft smile met his own, taking a few steps towards him to test and see if he’d neglected to follow her rule already. As soon as she was within inches from his grasp, she saw his fingers flex again like he wanted so badly to grab for her, to pull her close. To make up for his mistake, to drown her in pleasure, and encourage her to forget everything but the love and desire he has for her and only her. 

She wasn’t convinced though. Not yet, at least.  

Instead of falling for his unspoken pleas, Jane reached a hand out with fingers brushing against the fabric of his undershirt. The white cotton incredibly soft and tempting under her touch as she thumped her palm against his chest and shoved him back onto the mattress again. 

“Don’t worry about me.” She reassured with her voice dipping low. “Now, back - against the headboard, darling .” 

Frank had just barely caught himself on the edge this time, able to throw a dangerously narrowed glance before following her orders and shifting back towards their pillows. Jane waited a few seconds before crawling on the bed after him, making sure to keep her distance. She knew Frank could follow her simple rule, and yet nothing felt more satisfying than seeing the growing cracks under the composure he tried desperately to maintain. Those cracks seemed to only fracture more as he settled back against the headboard with his knees propped up and spread as he watched her perch near the center of the mattress, certainly further away from him than he would have liked. However, instead of catering to him, she decided to drive the knife further and started removing what little clothing she had left on. 

His fists clenched hard from where he had his arms draped lazily over his knees, knuckles almost turning white as she carefully removed her slip. Sharp eyes watched every little move as she lifted the article over her head, allowing it to pool by her side with the heat of his gaze scorching every inch of bare skin. And yet, the swelling of confidence expanded her chest as she decided to move closer, crawling on all fours towards him with a nefarious grin. 

“Like what you see?” Jane motioned for him to separate his knees more for her to perch between, and she was actually surprised to find he did his best to not bump or touch her in the process. “Am I prettier than that other woman?” She hummed. “Though I’ll admit, she was beautiful…”

There was a heavy weight that settled on her tongue, stopping herself short as she waited patiently for what he could possibly say in response. However, when he didn’t say anything immediately, she could feel the insistent buzzing return to crawl along her skin in anticipation.  

A light scoff broke the silence. “And what do you want me to say ‘bout that?” 

Jane’s head tilted sharply to the side, biting through gritted teeth. “Hmm, what were you going to say?” She saw the gears turning the moment she mentioned the other woman, he couldn’t hide from her. 

His shrug was so fucking nonchalant, her nails digging and creating crescents in the skin of her thighs. 

“I mean, Silvia’s a good-lookin’ woman, I’m not gonna deny that.” 

Oo - wrong answer, Frank. The inhale was deep, her intentions souring as if she expected him to answer any differently. He was either telling the honest truth or pressing her buttons to see how malicious she could possibly be. 

Well, if that was the case - 

Jane clicked her tongue, prodding the inside of her cheek as she lifted her knees to move away from him. It was a rather quick decision, everything he says that she doesn’t like - she’ll only punish him more by distancing herself further and further. At least until he finally sees the error of his ways, or that denying his pleasure is no longer worth pressing her toward the edge and away from him. 

“If you’d rather have her - fine.” She settled in the center of the mattress again, a good few feet from him with a sinister grin. “I can take care of myself.” 

She watched his brows crease, fingers flexing and twitching the further she distanced herself from him. And it was delicious, hilarious, as if he couldn’t even fathom her actually acting on this fury he had been enticing. Which made her next move all the more worth it. 

Situating herself, Jane twisted around to sit with her legs bent in front of her; cocking her knees out just slightly. Giving him a tantalizing view of the delicate lace of her underwear, she couldn’t help the smirk as she slid her hand down her stomach; skin prickling with goosebumps at her own touch. The tips of her fingers brushed along the silk fabric past the lacing sitting pretty around her hips, teasing herself a bit before dipping a finger lower to stroke along her folds. Tilting her head back just slightly, a breathless whine lifted towards the ceiling as the pad of her finger pressed lightly again, already feeling the fabric dampen. Her head lolled back down, feeling heavy on her shoulders as her eyes rolled with the action. And the heat in her chest erupted once she saw the dangerous mix on Frank’s face. 

Steely-blue eyes narrowed, fists clenched tight as he watched her hand’s movement, attention flickering from between her legs to her face. He looked like a feral animal barely restrained by a chain once realizing exactly what she had in mind as his punishment. Only his restraint was her word, and now seeing what he’d be losing if he were to go against her word, describing his expression as ‘pissed off’ was a gross understatement. And it did nothing but spur her on further. 

Another phantom smirk tugged at her lips as she cocked her knees a little wider. Her fingers continued their tantalizingly slow motions along the outside of her underwear; stopping now and then to give extra attention to her clit as her body started to jolt slightly in response to her languid touches. Noticing the patch of wetness along the silk fabric growing only encouraged her to slide her palm back up to slip under the band of her underwear. And the first touch of skin on skin had her head drifting back again with a vocal moan spilling from her, two fingers already eager to enter her dripping core and stroking up in a come-hither motion. That alone had her gasping and a little shocked at how sensitive she was to her own touch all of a sudden. However, Frank’s heavy, unwavering gaze on her didn’t help the matter and she dared to open her eyes to fair how he was doing. 

It didn’t appear as if he was doing particularly well, if the clench to his jaw and now obvious bulge along the front of his pants were anything to go by. His breath also seemed to spiral at some point, quick and shallow through his nose with fingers continuing to flex and clench into fists. It was then that Jane had the wonderful idea to remove her underwear completely, maneuvering around to slip them off and drop them next to her as her fingers were swift to return to their previous motions along her folds. The heat engulfing her fingers enticed another groan with her abdomen flexing once she curled her fingers up against the nerve-rich wall behind her pelvis. It was pointless teasing that felt too good to stop, especially after she decided to lower the lacing of her matching bra to kneed her breast. 

She might as well have been in her own little world with her eyes rolling shut at one point, the lewd squelching of her finger’s trusting getting louder the quicker her motions became. However, she could barely hear the faint rustling noise over her panting, not even noticing Frank was moving until she felt the shift of the mattress under her. 

“What - what are you doing?” Jane opened bleary eyes to see him crawling slowly towards her, the twist to his features obvious he was trying to hold something feral back. 

A smirk was slow to lift his lips. “You said I couldn’t touch you, nothin’ about gettin’ close.” 

“Think you can handle it? Getting close?” She hummed, teasing him and cracking a smile after noticing his jaw clench again. 

“I know I can.” He responded almost immediately, shifting closer with attention dropping to her hand between her legs. “‘Cause I wasn’t jealous earlier.” The smile fell a bit. “I mean, Silvia’s a pretty woman - you an’ I both know that - but she ain’t you. She wouldn’t take control of a situation like this, fuckin’ tease me like you do.” 

His words settled on her skin like ash, some flakes still smoldering as she halted her fingers for a second with a soft, “Frank -” crackling through the almost desperate tone in her voice. 

“There’s no way in hell she’d do this.” Frank made the bold move of leaning in towards her, holding himself over the mattress and between her bent knees. His voice dipped as well with his next string of words dragging through venom as he spoke them. “Does this piss me off, yeah, but it’s fuckin’ hot, Baby Jane.” 

It felt as if a whole separate fire lit in her pelvis then, merging with the one she had been slowly kindling, that fire burning brighter as he leaned in with breath warm against the shell of her ear. 

“An’ I know you’re fully capable of takin’ care of yourself, but damn - does that alone make me jealous as hell.” 

She barely had a chance to interject, to warn him that he was getting too close before he continued with his own form of painfully slow teasing. While she could distance himself from his physical touches, she couldn’t escape the alluring pull of his voice and tantalizing words. 

“Watchin’ you fuck yourself with your fingers, hearin’ you maon from your own touch - it’s maddening, Jane, knowin’ it’s not me makin’ you tremble, makin’ you fuckin’ shake .” 

One simple word was whispered as her mouth lolled open, fingers picking back up into an intense rhythm, “Good.” 

“Good?” He practically growled against the sensitive skin of her ear before pulling away to look at her. “What, you’re just gonna make me watch you cum, huh?” 

The nod was deliberate and slow as she looked him in the eye, practically beaming ear to ear. 

Frank scoffed, sharp and mean. “Then what? You know you won’t be satisfied with just your fingers.” 

“And what if I will be?” A breathless gasp interrupted her for a second. “I - I know myself better than you and - ah - you know that too.” 

The tightening in her core and abdomen was a testament to that. 

He stared at her for a second, just watching her with a sort of fascination and probably noticing the little hitches in her breathing and tremble to her knees; little details only he - outside of herself - was keenly aware of.

“I know - “ 

“Then apologize.” Jane slowed her finger’s thrusting, trying desperately to ignore the wetness coating her inner thighs. “Say - say you’re sorry for pushing me, that you're sorry for letting that woman crawl all over you like that in public.” She closed her eyes for a second as her core clenched hard around her fingers. “W - we have our own image to keep, Frank.” 

She opened her eyes again to find he had backed off a bit, features set and serious as he did another once over of her body splayed out and off limits to him. For a second, she also expected him to not apologize or take her request seriously. That was just Frank. 

Until - “I’m sorry, Jane.” He was inches from her again with a wicked and knowing smirk sitting on his face, “I’m sorry for disrespecting my fiancée - my future wife like I did.” 

His words struck another cord, hearing him say ‘fiancée’ always seemed to dig a knife into her chest, to be reminded about the unfortunate circumstance they were in - that they weren’t engaged, she knew that . But, damn did it still sound just as sweet along his lips, whispered to her in a way only he knew to make her melt. 

Jane’s head canted back sharply, her thumb circling her clit around the same moment he mentioned her as his future wife, the jolt of pleasure shooting up her spine like a bolt of electricity. 

Her mouth hung open again, a silent moan trapped in her throat. “God, Frank - “ 

The hum vibrated from him. “Oo, hit a sweet spot, huh?” 

She hesitated with her nod, her attention lolling back to him with eyes hazy as she struggled to keep them open. 

“Want me to do it again?” She felt the warmth of his breath along her shoulder, lips threatening to break her rule with little remorse. “Let me touch you.”

It was incredibly tempting, the word sitting on the tip of her tongue that would stop all of this here and now. To give them both the satisfaction they craved. How could she not give in? After he’s done nothing but whisper utter filth and honor her simple rule. Yet, what didn’t sit well was - if she did stop this, if she did decide to end this game and let him touch her; would he have learned anything? Would he still understand just how upset she was, how furious she was to have seen that other woman practically crawling all over him? Would he have learned anything?  

She finally took a deep, shaky breath. Finding the confidence to bite a sharp, “No.” as her eyes tried to focus on the intense shift in his features. 

All hope that had previously lit his face darkened dramatically, dropping altogether to give her a sinister and pointed look. Frank leaned away to look at her head-on, and it was like staring back at a raging fire. She could tell he was getting restless, antsy, expecting his sweet nothings would convince her to drop this stupid game and give them what they both wanted. And if she wasn’t careful with her next words, she was sure he’d say ‘fuck it’ and defy her rule to take her then and there.  

Where was the fun in that?

“Back.” Jane anchored her attention to his own, nodding her head slightly towards the headboard as a hint for him to move. “Or I leave.” 

“Like that? ” He pointed out her underwear sitting in a heap next to her and the wetness coating the inside of her thighs. “The state you’re in?”

“Yes, if you don’t move .” 

He caught on to the serious undertone quickly, heaving a sigh before shifting away from her and back towards the headboard. Jane had paused her movements as she watched Frank settle against the pillows, relieved a bit by the coil unwinding itself in her abdomen. However, the slight smirk certainly didn’t go unnoticed as he situated himself back in the same position he was in before; this time with his legs lowered and knees spread. 

“Fine.” It sounded like he was forcing the word through clenched teeth. “Guess I’ll just take care of myself then too.” 

Fuck. Her heart practically leaped to her throat at his words. A new and sudden surge of adrenaline thrummed through her veins as she watched his careful movements. Frank draped a hand over the growing bulge in his pants, knowing exactly what he was doing by palming himself as he kept her attention snagged like a snare trap. Though, he didn’t tease himself for long, undoing the button and zipper to his slacks before pulling his cock from the confines of the fabric she had forced him to keep on. 

A wave of goosebumps lined her skin, raising the hair along her arms to watch him steadily stroke himself from base to tip. His pleasure was reflected in the way his head tilted slightly back, heaving a breath with eyes fluttering a little but not closing completely. It was a wicked sight, the smoldering fire within her sparking watching the flushed head of his cock disappear in his fist over and over and over again. Needless to say, her fingers were quick to return and dip between her folds to find his own little show was just as effective in keeping her soaking wet. He never needed to touch her. 

The consistent groaning of the ocean played a lovely melody in time with their rapid panting and stuttering breaths; the tension between them only grew more taunt the longer they teased themselves toward the edge. Frank kept his strokes shallow and light, stormy-gray eyes narrowed - feeling as if she was getting hauled into the abyss by the strongest riptide. Jane couldn’t keep her focus anywhere else if she tried, mouth lolling open with a breathless gasp once noticing beads of precum catch on his fingers and start to coat them slightly. 

“Frank - “ His name, bordering a whine, dripped from her lips with an edge of desperation. A rather sudden and intense wave of pleasure flowed down her spine to her pelvis, walls clenching around her fingers and she stopped her movements altogether. 

Practically hypnotized by his languid strokes and sharp stare, she honestly didn’t realize how close she was to cumming, removing her fingers as she curled in on herself to stave away her impending release. 

“Frank - “ She tried again, swallowing hard. “Here. Now.”  

She didn’t need to tell him twice either as he was up and crawling towards her in mere seconds. 

“What do you want?” He whispered, voice low and rough. 

“You - you can touch me.” Jane finally mustered her permission, her release more important than punishing him any longer. “But, show me you mean it, that you’re sorry.” 

Expecting a smug smile to line his features, finally getting what he also wanted, she was almost startled to see a genuine need through the shattering cracks in his mask.

A soft huff puffed against her cheek as he leaned in closer. “I’ve always meant it, Baby Jane.” 

And before she could change her mind or speak to his comment, a hand shot up to cradle her jaw as he pulled her close to capture her lips in a hungry kiss. Feeling the desperation behind the kiss, she was almost convinced that he was sorry. Yet it was still incredibly infuriating and annoying as hell just realizing how well he knew which buttons to press to get her to cave. However, the feeling of his hand on the inside of her thigh, relishing in the warmth of her skin, was enough to hush the incessant voice of jealousy. All thoughts even blanked for a second as his free hand moved to wind around her lower back to keep her upright, his fingers finally finding the soaking heat of her core as they entered her. Peppering kisses along the slope of her neck, everything was starting to blur together, her back bowing as his fingers stroked forward.  

Jane’s hands flew up to grip his biceps, anything to anchor herself as his head ducked to suck a series of kisses along the swell of her breasts like he should have been doing since they walked into the bedroom. Her orgasm returned with a vengeance, the coil winding impossibly tight after delaying it off a few times already. All she craved now was that sweet release, craved him. 

 “Frank,” Jane gasped, spine arching into him as she suddenly reached down to stop him. “Fuck me, please.”  

Hell, she didn’t need to elaborate as Frank barely wasted a second in giving her a knowing glance before maneuvering himself to remove his pants first. Turning her away from him, the rustling of the expensive fabric was the only sound she could make out from beyond the desperate panting and rapid beating of her heart echoing in her ears. 

“Stay on your knees.” He directed, slotting himself behind her and shifting her hands so they were palms down on the mattress to support her. The intense heat on her back was only made worse by the cotton undershirt he still had on, feeling as if she was snug against a furnace as he encased himself around her. 

His hands slipped through her arms then, reaching to hook under the inside of her thighs and tilt her hips back with his cock a hard and searing heat sliding against her folds. Jane had to bite her tongue to keep herself from begging for him, keeping at least some of her dignity. Yet, the relief that finally followed as he slipped inside almost sent her tumbling over the edge then and there, the delicious stretch was everything she needed and more. So much so, that it had her throwing her head back against Frank’s shoulder to grit between clenched teeth, a shaky warning to wait. 

However, Frank being Frank and overly confident in the moment decided to move anyway, pulling back painfully slow and thrusting back in at an equally sinful pace. The angle had the head of his cock dragging along that nerve-rich wall, enticing an incredibly strong clench to pull at her muscles. She hissed at him to stop again, hot tears pricking the corners of her eyes. 

“Frank - I said wait. I - I’m gonna cum.” 

“So?” His lips traced the column of her throat with a breathy scoff. “Do it. I’m only gonna make you cum again.” 

His words sent a shiver down her spine, goosebumps pebbling her skin when he started moving again. He set a tantalizingly slow pace, his hips rocking with hands still keeping a firm hold along her thighs. The angle had her seeing stars, the position allowing him to rest his chin on her shoulder, each gasp and aching moan from him trickled down her skin like honey. 

Thinking she was in the clear for a second, his slow thrusts delaying her orgasm even further, she tried to relish his proximity and possessive touches instead. That was until one of his hands shifted to rub at her clit and her head jerked back to hit his shoulder again. But rather than trying to wiggle free from his grasp, her hips pressed forward and into his hand, his cock thrusting deeper, quicker now once feeling her walls clench hard around him. 

He almost didn’t want to admit it, how painfully close he was as well after edging himself for as long as he did. 

It was a frenzied game of give-and-take as Jane slumped onto all fours against the mattress. Her knuckles turned white at how hard she was gripping the sheets with the fire in her pelvis growing unbearably hot. Each bump of his hips against her ass had her jerking forward, the moans already a whisper past her lips dissolving into choked gasps. Frank moved then with both hands supporting him against the sheets, arms still slotted between the crease of her hips with his own moving in a relentless rhythm. Her mouth hung open as she felt the head of his cock bump her cervix, the feeling quite uncomfortable if it wasn’t for the tight coil shaking and shuttering; the sawing friction of his cock already better than what she could ever imagine her fingers to do. It was just too fucking good. 

And too much. God - too hot. Too tight. 

Until the coil finally snapped, her orgasm rushing over her, drowning her, yanking her to the depths as she shook under him with barely a breath of warning. A broken cry bellowed into the comforter, eyes clenching tight as every part of her pulsed and clenched so fucking hard. She hadn’t even realized Frank stilled above her as well, his hands back along her skin with nails biting and stinging the soft flesh of her thighs. His groans were muffled in her hair, chest heaving against her back as she felt his cock throb within her. 

Exhaustion, bone-deep as it weighed them both down and against the mattress. Everything was so numb, every part of her vibrating as he pulled himself from her before her arms gave out from beneath her. 

Then everything went dark. 

~

The texture against her skin jolted her awake, feeling a liquid warmth and wondering where the hell she was to be wet again. Her sudden jerk must have startled Frank as well, the slight concern riddling his features the first thing she was able to focus on once her vision cleared. 

She was in the bathtub, the water warm enough to where she could see a few whisps of steam glide over the once-still water. It felt good, not realizing how goddamn sore she was and she settled back against the wall of the tub. Frank had her right arm over the edge, having been scrubbing gently at her skin with a loofah and body soap. That felt wonderful too, and before she closed her eyes again, Jane took notice of his plaid pajama pants and new off-white undershirt. He had changed at some point?  

“What happened?” 

He met her slurred words with a small grin. “You passed out.” Steely-blue eyes lifted to her from under his brows, the grin curling into a smirk. “Never seen you cum that hard before either.” 

The flush was instant, “I - I don’t think I ever have…” 

Everything was starting to flood back to her and her brows creased at a troubling thought. 

“How - when did I pass out?” 

Frank continued his gentle scrubbing, moving up her arm towards her bicep. “You haven’t been out for long. Fifteen minutes maybe? If that? Long ‘nough for me to change an’ fill the tub.” 

He didn’t seem at all phased by her passing out in the first place, and it helped a bit in easing any other concerns. “What about you? Are you ok?” 

She had been pretty mean to him earlier. 

“I’m fine. More than fine, actually.” His genuine smile said enough. “Was more worried ‘bout you. Thought this might help a bit though, I was kinda rough.” 

Rough was an understatement, but it was so good. The ache in her legs and pelvis was a pleasant one that sat heavy but finally sated. 

“I am sorry - ‘bout the party.” 

The apology caught her off guard for a second, tilting her head back up from where she had it resting back against the tub’s edge. Was he really serious?

“But I wasn’t cheatin’.” He pointed. “Silvia’s actually a spy.” 

Her brows knit, but before she could ask any questions her mouth clicked shut as he continued. 

“Her an’ her husband are both spies for me.” Husband? “Met him first at one of Ryan’s parties.” He barely spared her a glance, the smile still plastered on his face at the mention of this other woman’s husband. “He works as an accountant for the Industries an’ her a secretary. Found out pretty quickly that Ryan’s payin’ them both shit - so I struck a deal with ‘im. Any information he an’ Silvia can get for me, I give ‘em a nice little bonus check.” 

God - he even told her he wasn’t cheating earlier. Jane slumped further into the bathwater in an attempt to hide her bubbling shame. 

“I honestly wasn’t expectin’ to see her there, at the party, but I figured then was as good a time as any to ask her about gettin’ any information regardin’ Ryan’s council closin’ those shops in Fort Frolic - the ones that Jack mentioned.”

Jane tried to hold her tongue then, but the words slipped with little regard. “She didn’t have to crawl all over you like she did, if she was just exchanging information.” 

The chuckle startled her a bit, gaze zipping to his own with a sharp glare. “Silvia’s got a bad habit of gettin’ handsy with people. Guess that’s how she managed to get her current secretary job.”

“Still,” Jane huffed. “You didn’t have to feed into it.” 

The shrug was nonchalant, “I didn’t, but I had a big ask. It’s gonna take Silvia puttin’ her job on the line to get the information I asked her for.” 

And it’s not like Jane didn’t understand the situation, the stakes behind it. It was the fact he did it so publicly, right in front of her even, without telling her beforehand who exactly he was going to talk to. Guess that might have been to keep their conversation discrete and inconspicuous, but it still didn’t sit right with her. Even after hearing the truth, she saw Stanley and knew Frank saw the reporter as well. She was more worried about the articles to follow, the accusations, the lies. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Doll.” His hushed, as if he’d been reading her thoughts. He shifted closer to her from where he’d been kneeling outside of the tub. “Silvia’s got nothin’ on you. I came back here with you, didn’t I? You’re for me. No one’s gonna change or challenge that.” 

All the hate, the accumulating jealousy that had been sitting and burning through her chest like acid washed away with his words. You’re for me. And she practically melted under his lazy stare as he let go of her arm to rinse the suds in the bathwater. 

“We’ll worry ‘bout Stanley an’ the Tribune tomorrow. Might give us a chance to stop an’ plan our next moves against Ryan.” 

An idea flickered in her head as well. “Could give us a chance to ‘postpone the wedding’ too - if that’s what Rapture’s been expecting.” Can’t overthrow the Industries while planning a fictitious wedding. 

He threw a knowing smile before moving to stand and handing her the loofa to continue washing off if she wanted. Of course, he bent to place a tender peck on her forehead, then meeting her lips for another sweet, lingering kiss. 

“I assume you might not wanna cook t’night. I can call the Bistro for dinner,” He huffed a brief chuckle as he gathered her body wash and hair products from the shower. “Jack’s probably tired of leftovers anyway.” 

An intense sigh deflated her chest as he handed her everything she might need to continue her bath, knowing nothing would compare to this man and his simple gestures of tenderness. Even after he partakes in a secretive exchange with a pretty, seductive blonde who just happens to be a spy for him. But, in the end, this apology felt genuine and she believed every word without hesitation. 

Giving a slight nod at his dinner suggestion, Frank gave another shallow kiss on her temple before he moved back toward the bedroom. As he reached the doorway, Jane couldn’t help but call out to him with voice cracking slightly. 

“Frank -” He turned to her, “I love you.” 

Another smile, this one causing a mellow warmth to settle beneath her skin. “Love you too.” 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

“Are either of you able to explain this?” 

Jane looked over her shoulder from where she was preparing breakfast at the stove, her attention to the newspaper in question that Reggie was holding up. Frank also diverted his gaze from the coffee machine to the article, a yawn interrupting his answer. 

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Reggie.” Jane was quicker to the punch. “That whole thing was all a misunderstanding.” She returned to flipping the bacon accompanying Jack’s omelet, the smokey maple aroma filling the kitchen. 

Reggie scoffed, “A misunderstandin’?” he slapped the paper onto the island counter, the sudden sharp noise startling Jack and causing the forkful of his omelet to plop back on his plate. “Apparently, it’s a big enough misunderstandin’ for it to be plastered all over the Tribune.” 

“Reg, it’s fine.” Frank finally spoke up after taking a sip of his coffee. “Was just gettin’ some information from Silvia at the party, that’s all. Wasn’t flirtin’ with her or anythin’.” 

The other man gave Frank a quirk of his brow. “Ok, what about Jane an’ Fitzpatrick?” 

Frank stopped with the rim of his mug to his lips, side-eyeing Jane with a small shrug. 

“Like I said,” She turned with the bacon ready to serve onto Jack’s plate. “Just a misunderstanding. We also both happened to have seen Stanely taking photos and decided to play him up a bit. Just for fun.” 

Reggie huffed another breath, “So the Tribune’s just blowin’ this all outta proportion?” 

“Don’t they always?” She shrugged, “Besides, if Frank had done something that really pissed me off, I obviously wouldn’t be making breakfast for him this morning.” Making her point, she set two servings of eggs and bacon on the island, one for each of them. 

Frank was quick to grab one of the plates while commenting rather boldly, “Oh yeah, she took care of me yesterday, wasn’t able to walk for a bit after.” 

Jane’s jaw dropped, immediately reaching to swipe at him with a dishtowel while scowling at him. She gave a quick nod to Jack as a warning not to get into that in front of the kid. Frank only chuckled, dodging the dishtowel by mere inches. 

Reggie took the other plate with a bit of concern still riddling his features. “So, you two are alright then? Don’t gotta worry about separation’ you if a fight breaks out?” 

“Nah,” Frank took a few tentative steps towards Jane to place a quick kiss along her cheek. “We’re ok.” 

Rolling her eyes, Jane at least took to placing a fork on his plate as Frank thanked her and made his way out of the kitchen while calling over his shoulder. “See you at the labs, Doll.” They watched him leave the kitchen, most likely heading back to his office to take care of some things before getting ready for the day. 

Jane smiled to herself with a shake of her head. She wasn’t sure if Reggie could see it, but the vexation was palpable beneath those hazy blue eyes. Ryan was sure to hear from Fontaine this morning while sipping on his morning cup of Joe. She wouldn’t blame him, Jane tried to make it seem like the Tribune’s front page headline and photo didn’t phase her either. But the obvious and rather bold headline stating,  Adultery Goes Both Ways Beneath the Waves, couldn’t be ignored as it took up a majority of the page with damning photos of both her and Frank with Silvia and Fitzpatrick accompanying it. Neither element was forgiving, and it had her rolling her eyes so hard that they threatened to get stuck at the back of her skull. 

As if Ryan didn’t partake in such promiscuous activities on the daily. Please, she could write a novel on his hypocrisy. 

Reggie turned back to Jane with about a million questions sitting along his features, to which she gave another nonchalant shrug. 

“I can handle him, Reg. Don’t worry.” 

The man chuckled around a serving of eggs. “It’s not that I worry ‘bout - I’ve just seen the Tribune tear people apart with their stories. Don’t wanna see you two end up fightin’ an’ disagreein’ all because of a newspaper gossip article.” To which Jane gave him a reassuring smile around the rim of her own coffee mug.

She appreciated his concern, she really did, but they both knew better than to poke the bear too hard. Yesterday, they just happened to have brought a sharper stick to sting a bit, but they very well knew the limits of how hard they could poke that bear. They were fine, especially now that she knew Silvia was a spy and too handsy for her own good. It made her feel better looking at those photos and knowing Frank was receiving inside information about the Industries right under Ryan’s nose. It was hilarious, even.

However, if anything, it also gave them a much-needed distraction from the public’s attention on her project and the hanging threat of shouldering Ryan out of his own business. She’s been quite bold recently in making the statements of how her energy Elixir could fuel Rapture entirely - that there was no need for the Industries. Of course, she was joking - just a bit - but knew it lit a fire under Ryan’s ass, and he’s been dancing around frantically trying to put it out the past couple of weeks. 

So, why not distract everyone with a scandal? With more rumors of the power couple potentially cheating on each other and a wedding put off? It was perfect, and certainly something Ryan would be proud to use to his advantage. 

They have to throw him some sort of bone. 

~*~

With how large Rapture actually was, and how scattered some areas of the city were, word travels surprisingly fast. Of course, when you have Andrew Ryan at the forefront of the gossip train, rumors can quite literally turn up overnight and make headlines the next morning. It was obvious from the several side-eyes she received while entering the Futuristics and labs that many already knew of the “scandal” now hanging over her and Fontaine’s heads. And while she should maybe at least act embarrassed about it, she couldn’t hide the devilish smirk at how just plain gullible people could be. Although, how would they know? How could they know? They were getting all this juicy information from a silly second-hand source, feeding on a story from the accounts of a greasy reporter and the photos he got lucky in capturing because she and Frank let him. 

She had to take a breath before entering her lab, calming the growing frustration at the immature headline still burning in her memory. Yet, once again, she almost collided with the door as it closed behind her, startled by Brigid standing behind one of the tables as she packaged another container of her Elixir solution. 

The slight quirk to the other woman’s lip had her scowling. 

“I thought you would have seen me in here,” Brigid commented as she wrote a label for the Elixir container. 

Jane huffed, lifting a hand to fix her hair a bit. “My mind was obviously elsewhere.” 

“I don’t blame you. With the latest Tribune article, I would find it odd for you to stroll in with unwavering confidence.” 

Yeah…”It’s stupid.” 

Brigid chuckled. “The article? Is it not true?” 

Jane shook her head as she regained enough composure to wander her lab. She immediately made a beeline towards the ADAM garden to check on the most recent batch. 

“It’s not. Frank and I are fine. It was just…a misunderstanding, the whole thing.” She lifted the lid to the garden’s container to find a plethora of seaweed growing. “Frank knew the woman and was getting information from her. I was just having a conversation with Fitzpatrick to kill the time.” 

She heard the scoff behind her. “The article mentioned Fontaine storming out of the Welcome Center with you.” 

Another shrug as Jane looked over her shoulder towards Brigid with a sly smile. “He gets jealous. It’s quite funny, actually. For him to be jealous of someone like Fitzpatrick.” 

Wondering why Brigid was suddenly so interested in this news and her and Frank’s relationship, to begin with, Jane moved to the next smaller ADAM garden that housed a few growing kelp samples. This garden showed some slower progress, but progress nonetheless. It was with this garden she was planning on creating a second Elixir solution that would eventually replace Ryan’s magma solution and take over Rapture’s power grid entirely. Of course, she’ll need a larger batch than this current one, but with her distribution team already storing a couple dozen containers, she had plenty of confidence in the kelp solution. 

And instead of pushing the subject any further, she heard Brigid sigh deeply before returning to her task. 

“I suppose it would be foolish to believe such stories from the Tribune.” She chuckled, “Unless the reason as to why Fontaine called down asking for you is more alarming than he led on.” 

Jane perked up, turning to face the scientist. “Frank called for me?” 

“He did.” Brigid picked up her clipboard to write another label for a second Elixir container, already completely disinterested in their conversation. She’s been like that recently, even their chats far and few between “Just before you walked in, he asked to see you.” 

Not wasting another second, Jane quickly thanked Brigid and raced out of her lab. If this was about a potential phone call with Ryan - that Frank was leading her to believe he’d have the second he got to his office - about the Tribune article, she was dying to know the outcome. Frank was able to keep his frustration hidden rather well this morning during breakfast, and even if they settled things between themselves last night, it was still their image on the line. And they’d both be damned if one stupid headline, one stupid mistake ruined them in any way. 

Ryan wouldn’t be getting away with the satisfaction this time. 

~

Jane had walked into his office just as he was slamming the phone back onto the receiver, most likely on the phone with someone else in the Futuristics, and it overshadowed the sound of his office door shuttering behind her. She watched him heave a sigh, sliding his palms along the oak of his desk to support himself. Debating on entering further, Jane stood back and waited for the tension in his shoulders to relax a bit. Watching his hands ball into fists, it was obvious that she’d be standing there for a while if she didn’t interject in some way. 

“Frank - ” She called out from the opposite end of the office, about to ask how his call with Ryan went before he interrupted her. 

“What?!” He snapped, turning with his face twisted in rage but dropped immediately once he saw it was her. 

Jane straightened her spine, clicking her tongue at his tone as she paced towards him with a slow shake of her head. 

“Hey, you were the one who asked for me to come up here.” She stopped a few feet from him, standing on the raised platform near his desk as she crossed her arms. “Don’t you dare raise your voice at me like that.” 

“I know.” He took a breath. “I’m sorry, I was expectin’ anyone else.” 

A sigh deflated her chest then as well, “It’s alright, I had a feeling the conversation with Ryan maybe didn’t go well.” She couldn’t blame him. “What happened?” 

He was quiet for a bit, his thoughts spinning about how to word his response. He eventually paced towards the windows along the back of his office, and Jane followed. 

“I’ve um -” He spoke towards his reflection, clearing his throat before continuing. “I’ve got some bad news.” 

Ok, she was expecting that. “What? What happened?” She took a few steps to stand next to him. “What did Ryan say?” 

The anticipation bubbled in her chest when he still didn’t answer her right away, giving her a glance through the window before sighing. She’s never seen him this - stuck before. 

“He wants to pull the Industries from your project, completely.” 

Her jaw dropped. She wasn’t expecting that. “What?!” Her arms uncrossed to drop and thump dramatically along her sides, her voice raising a bit. “He can’t do that! More than half of Rapture is running off of my energy supply!” 

“I know.” He sounded exasperated, attention still lingering on their reflections.

“And my team is so close to developing an Elixir mixture that could power Rapture entirely!” 

He huffed, hands stuffing themselves in his pockets. “Yeah, Jane, and I think Ryan knows a little ‘bout that too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be threatenin’ this move.” 

Jane sputtered for a second, a million thoughts suddenly running through her head on a possible solution. “Well -” she scoffed. “What did you tell him?” 

She saw the smirk in his reflection first. “I told ‘im to go fuck himself.” 

“Frank!” 

“You would’ve said the same damn thing!” He turned to look at her head-on this time, a flash of irritation crossing his features before he stopped and took a calming breath. “Jane, look - I had to negotiate with Ryan, get him to reconsider this dumb idea.” 

“Ok?” While Frank seemed rather quiet, Jane could only feel her heartbeat quicken, thumping loudly in her chest. Usually, when he’s this calm, that means he’s already made up his mind about something, something that she can’t fight him about no matter what. 

“He wanted us to halt any future production of your energy Elixir, for the time bein’, at least.”  

Jane crossed her arms again, head nodding towards him to continue. At this point, the anticipation was gnawing at her, and she hoped he had an answer, a solution, a loophole even, against Ryan. 

“An’ - I’m takin’ you out of the labs for a bit.” 

That wasn’t a solution. 

Her arms dropped again, palms slapping her sides with a huff of disbelief. “I don’t believe it -” She sputtered. “Frank, no - seriously? You can’t - I won’t leave the labs, this whole project I’ve spent so much time and energy on, just because Ryan’s paranoid and panicked!”

She could tell he was doing his best to keep his cool in this situation, lifting his hands from his pockets to reach for her shoulders. His touch was soft and a little unexpected, massaging the tension from her muscles as he spoke. Yet the outrage was still prevalent, sizzling just under her skin. 

“Listen, it won’t be forever, just long ‘nough to get Ryan off your ass.” His palms lowered to her arms. “Once he’s lost interest, we’ll bring you back an’ ramp up the Elixir production again. I’ll have your guys continue workin’ on it occasionally, but we won’t shutter it completely. It’s better than losin’ this entire project.’ 

Jane rolled her eyes to glance out the window as he talked, still hearing but not wanting to believe his resolution to this little hiccup in their plans. And it wouldn’t be as big of a shock if she hadn’t put the hours, the days, hell, the months into this project that she has so far. All for it to come to an abrupt stop? Just like that? 

And they were so close, too. They were so close to forcing Ryan from his own industry, so close to taking over and establishing themselves as a literal powerhouse of Rapture. 

“Jane,’ He practically whispered, her attention slowly lolling back to him with lips upturned into an obvious and obnoxious pout. “I’m not bannin’ you from the labs. If you wanna work after hours on somethin’ other than the project, be my guest. But, if you see Stanley or Sullivan in the lobby or near the labs, don’t even think about goin’ in, ok?”

A long and deep sigh deflated her chest, “And what the hell am I going to do in the meantime?” 

The last thing she expected was a grin to appear slowly along his features. “That’s the good news.” 

Raising a curious brow, she was glad he didn’t take as long to share the apparent positive side to this endeavor. 

“How does CEO Jane Hartley sound? Of Fontaine Fisheries?” 

The Fisheries? “Frank,” The displeasure returned tenfold. “You can’t be serious! You want me to work at the Fisheries?!” 

His hands lowered to circle her wrists, probably attempting to keep her grounded and as calm about this as possible. Yeah, he was doing a wonderful job so far. 

“Jane, come on.” He gave her a small smile, letting go of her wrists then. “There’s too much shit goin’ on an’ tension buildin’ between the guys down there. Throw Sullivan into the mix an’ he’s gonna find out ‘bout the Smugger’s hideout without someone there to keep ‘im in line.” 

And he thought she was the best person to handle that? 

“I’ve seen how you handled everyone while runnin’ The Siren; add your fishin’ experience an’ biology background, an' you’re perfect for it.” 

Ah, those honied words, the sweetest they could possibly be, while being fed to her as his gentle touches accompanied his plans. And it’s not like she didn’t disagree with him if he thought it was going to be like the bar, and she’d be able to handle the guys at the Fisheries all the same. It just wasn’t her lab. It wasn’t researching the slugs and experimenting with ADAM and its effects on different marine fauna and animals. It was essentially babysitting all the men working down there and keeping Sullivan from crossing his line etched into the ocean’s sediment. 

If she was going to be responsible for all of that, she wanted a different title to reflect it. 

“Co-owner.” She stated, features set and serious.

The smile was back to lift the corner of his lips for a split second, almost as if he didn’t hear her correctly. 

“What?” 

“If I’m going to do this, then I want to be the co-owner of the Fisheries.” 

He huffed a breathless chuckle. “What, you don’t think the guys are gonna take you seriously with a CEO title?” 

A slight shrug lifted her shoulders, and a coy smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she took a step closer to him. She lifted her hands to run the tips of her fingers along his tie and the stitched edges of his suit’s vest, lips pursing. 

“No, I just think it sounds better. You know?” She glanced up at him from under her lashes. “Co-owner Jane Marie Fontaine, of Fontaine Fisheries.” 

The look he returned was a little apprehensive at first, but the upturn of his lips melted into a brazen smile. Seems like he very well liked the sound of that also. 

“Alright, if that’s what you want.” 

Huh, she didn’t think the decision would come that easy, expecting needing to convince him with a few stolen kisses and teasing touches of her own. Instead, she only hummed in content, tilting her head up to place a few feathered kisses on the light scruff along his jaw. 

“Thank you, honey.” The chuckle that dripped past her lips was light with a bit of a jagged edge. “Though, you seem to be losing your touch if you’re bending to my requests so easily.” 

His hands lifted to grip at her waist, fingers flexing into the fabric of her blouse. “Hey, if it makes you happy an’ to agree with me, can’t say no to you.” 

“Good.’ She whispered against his skin, grumbling out her next thought. “I’m still upset about the situation, but if it keeps Ryan from backing out of this project.” 

“We’ll make it work.” He pecked a quick kiss to her temple. “Promise.” 

Oo, yet another promise to hold him to. However, she had to admit, that while she had initially been frustrated about the whole situation, the threat of Ryan pulling the plug on her project was a lot more devastating than her apparent new position at the Fisheries. Unfortunately, that also meant she wouldn’t be able to do this as often anymore either. Sneaking up to Frank’s office now and then to indulge herself and distract him with a few stolen kisses. That alone had her grabbing for his tie to snatch his lips in a quick and desperate kiss before muttering a soft, “I trust you”, feeling his smile against the corner of her mouth. Guess he’ll just have to make it up to her under the silk of their sheets. 

And just as he moved to return the gesture, Jane tilted her head away from his, a finger on his lips to stop him with a smirk. 

“We can pick this up later, ok?” She whispered. “I need to head back down and relay this information to my team. They don’t need the shock of my sudden disappearance from the labs.” 

She could tell he was reluctant to let her go. His hands unwinded painfully slow around her waist as he commented, “Alright.” 

Jane fixed up his tie again, giving it a small pat before stepping away and walking back towards the front of his office, her heels clicking along the way. 

Though, she didn’t get too far before he called out to her, “You’re starting Thursday. Ok, Co-owner?” 

She turned back to him with a coy smile, one hand on the door to his office and the other lifting to salute him, “Aye aye, Captain.” 

~*~

Stepping rather reluctantly from the bathysphere docking station, the first inhale almost had her gagging. She tried not to make it obvious, suddenly lifting her hand to shield her nose, yet Frank's side-eye and the brief smirk were telling enough that he saw her. 

If there was anything to expect from Neptune’s Bounty, it was the undeniable scent of fish and saltwater. She should be used to it, too, especially with how much fishing she had done with her father on the surface. But the Bounty was somehow worse, and they were just in the docking station. It almost smelled of rotting fish, mildew, and wet dog, with the salt practically sticking to her skin. She wondered how on earth Frank wasn’t equally as affected. That is until she realized that, yes - of course, his business, his pier, his innate ability to block out the horrific stench of brine and decaying meat. 

What a great first impression from her new job. 

Jane trailed after Frank as they made their way through the halls from the docking station. However, her attention remained glued to the floor, attempting to avoid the many grates littered across the damp stone as seawater sloshing echoed below. What a wonderful day to wear a pair of heels. Though, Frank did warn her about wearing something a little more casual, to which she took to wearing a brand new pantsuit; something different from her usual pencil skirts and dresses. Without a pair of flats to match, she dismissed his warnings, assuming he’d just be taking her to where her office would be and calling it a day. Though, as they passed multiple signs leading them down towards the lower wharf of Pier 4, Jane couldn’t dismiss the instant wave of dread washing over her. 

Oh, she’ll be meeting everyone today, huh? 

It wasn’t a secret that Jane had been dreading this, leaving the sanctity of her labs to manage a bunch of fishermen and occasionally beat off the nosy cop. Yet, Frank made it crystal clear that Ryan’s intentions to pull the plug and end everything was a decision he’d be delighted to make without a moment’s notice. They had to pull her from the labs. And while it was rather ridiculous, Ryan acting as paranoid as he was, Jane found herself holding her tongue multiple times over the last couple of days. It was either do this or lose everything she had worked for. 

Besides, this was probably the closest she’d come to her bartending job on the surface. How difficult could it be? 

Now, Neptune’s Bounty has plenty of piers; needing to supply an entire city with the only food source they had in abundance, Jane was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Pier 4 was just one of many. Fortunately, she’d only be getting familiar with the one, the only one that Frank owned and where his Fisheries lived. Albeit, it stood as a very elaborate front to his smuggling ring and hideout buried deep in the freezers somewhere. Jane still found herself rather impressed once Frank had explained the entire operation to her, more so over the fact of how well he’d been able to keep it hidden. Well…outside of Sullivan, who couldn’t keep his damn nose out of other people’s business if his life depended on it. 

She found Frank speaking through gritted teeth about how much of a nuisance the man’s become. After explaining to her where the Jet Postal and Fighting McDonagh’s Tavern lived along the upper wharf, he couldn’t help the sharp scoff once explaining the ordeal with Peach Wilkins. The man, the pier’s Wharfmaster, was originally taking residency in his respected office along the upper wharf until Sullivan squeezed his way in and has refused to leave since. Leaving Peach in a hand-me-down of an office and a little more disrespect for Fontaine for not standing up for him and his title, it was fair to say things have been a little tense. There was an air of, if Frank even looked at Peach wrong, the man might reconsider his position much sooner than later. 

Apparently, Frank also had the rogue thought in his head that she could manage to salvage things and act as a buffer of sorts around everyone. And while she wasn’t too enthused about being a safety cushion, she had a feeling he didn’t hesitate to give this position to her knowing what she could do to some of these men if they pissed her off. Which was easier said than done. She knew the men on the surface, and it took months to gain all their trust and acquaintanceship, to poke fun and put them in their place if they disrespected her. Other than the few stories she’d heard about Peach, she was very much walking onto a clean slate, putting her on edge way more than starting her job at the Futuristics. 

As they approached the docks, Jane couldn’t help but hang close to Frank, doing her best to keep any sort of composure. Yet, the distant sound of Big Daddy's cries mixed with an odd sort of howling crawling over the rusted tin plates scattered throughout the halls of the wharf was more nerve-wracking than she anticipated. It was incredibly eerie, combined with the fact that she really hasn’t seen many workers as of yet - if any. The place appeared barren, abandoned if she didn’t know better. 

“Where is everyone?” She squeaked, clearing her throat.

“Probably all down by the docks,” Frank responded causally. Yet, his response only enticed her to reach a hand to wrap around the crook of his arm, a solid reassurance she could cling to. 

She was also glad he wasn’t complaining either, eventually taking that same hand gripping his arm to intertwine her fingers with his own. Frank had leaned towards her then to mutter, “Stand tall, shoulders back. You’ve got a nastier bite than these guys, trust me.” 

Guess she’ll just have to take his word for it. 

Rounding a corner and through an airlock door, they finally stepped out onto the docks of Pier 4, where all the workers and fishermen were seen scurrying about like bees in a hive. Most had stopped what they were doing to see who had just entered, some turning away immediately to return to their work, while others continued to stare. 

It must not have been strange to see Fontaine here. His appearance was rather brushed off for the men who returned to pulling the day's catch from a sub or piling fish into a crate. The few who did continue to stare had their curiosity glued to the company stuck to Fontaine’s side—and a women’s company, no less. 

The extra attention felt so incredibly grimy, too, nothing like the jealous side-eyes she’d get in Fort Frolic or lingering glances of adoration from most in Siren Alley. While it seemed as if she should be used to any sort of attention by now, it had only occurred to her then that she was really only used to it if it was coming from Rapture’s upper or middle class. These men were, unfortunately, far from that societal bracket, even with Frank paying them as well as he’d told her. And it just felt…wrong. 

Jane hovered a little closer to Frank as they stepped along the creaky wooden panels of the docks; still trying her damndest to keep her spine tall and shoulders squared. Frank seemed preoccupied with scanning the crowds of fishermen, completely ignoring the increasing number of workers stopping to gauge the new person joining his side. 

Once spotting the person he must have been looking for, the sudden “Peach!” called out startled her, his voice carrying over the water sloshing just off the docks, the name rising to hang along the high vaulted ceilings. 

A man who had been huddled around a small group of fishermen and crates perked up at the sound, turning to them with an immediate smile to scrawl across his drooping features. 

“Well, I’ll be damned, he’s back again!” The man sporting disheveled salt and pepper hair sauntered away from the group of fishermen, a hand sticking out to shake Frank’s. “Mr. Fontaine, didn’t think you’d be returnin’ so soon. Thought that last scruff between you an’ Sullivan had finally sent you over the edge!” 

Frank responded with a nonchalant shrug, “Think some jackass like Sullivan’s gonna keep me away. Besides,” Jane felt him tug on her hand, having her step up beside him, and she went with hesitant steps. “Brought someone I figured you all would want to meet. Bein’ that she’s the Fisheries’ new co-owner an’ all.” 

Peach’s long, straight nose flared with small, beady eyes lined with a lifetime of bags and shadows, gave her a once-over, and her skin crawled. Jane had stood rigid as he finally hummed. 

“Co-owner, you say? What’s got you thinkin’ we need a co-owner all of a sudden?” 

She was grateful for the huff of laughter on Frank’s part, as she immediately became defensive with the other man’s full feet-to-face assessment. 

“What, can’t give my future wife a share in my companies?” 

Jane watched those deep brown eyes suddenly widen, a rather incredulous smile lifting his features.

“Ah! This is her?” He let out a boisterous laugh that surely snagged the attention of a few near fishermen. “Gotta tell you, Fontaine, I was honestly startin’ to believe she didn’t exist!” 

Peach suddenly stuck out his hand towards her, “Peach Wilkins, Wharfmaster of Pier 4.” She took his hand lightly to shake. “Bet Fontaine’s talked all about me an’ my little excursions with Sullivan.” 

Jane forced a small smile, wincing as her hand was nearly crushed in Peach’s own strong, calloused grip. “Of course, Frank’s told me plenty. I’m Jane, Jane Hartley.” 

Peach dropped her hand rather quickly, but not before giving her a subtle wink that itched her skin. He added, “Lucky for you too, as the new co-owner, I guess you’ll get to experience the pain-in-the-ass Sullivan can be firsthand.” 

Yeah, lucky for her. 

And just as another smile was coerced from her, accompanied by a strained sort of giggle at Peach’s obvious warning about Sullivan, she felt the reassuring weight of Frank’s hand on her lower back. His own chuckle was soft then. 

“Come on, Peach, don’t wanna scare her off on her first day Why don’tcha do the honors an’ give her a tour of the place? She’s gonna need to know where everythin’ is, anyway.” 

She noticed the slight emphasis on “everything” and assumed he was also referring to the hideout. Guess they can’t be too careful even when Sullivan’s not in earshot. Still, Peach agreed to the offer and the slight nudge to her lower back from Frank coaxed her to follow the man. 

At this point, she also had the attention of more fishermen and workers as Peach led them around the docks first. She was sort of glad he seemed like a man who took pride in his trade and spent a bit of time explaining how the subs entered and left the pier through an airlock system just below the water. Each sub had a respected dock to unload the day’s catch where a few men were waiting with empty crates to package. And as Peach was explaining the first half of the packaging process done on the docks, she couldn’t help the few side-eyes given to the men who watched on with brows narrowed and mouths in thin lines. 

Still, the lingering potent stench hanging with the humidity above them, the air smelling strongly of fish and brine; if anything it stirred up an intense sense of nostalgia she couldn’t seem to fight. The best memories Jane had with her father were the ones of her fishing with him, including the many occasions when she’d help him prepare the fish to store for the week, or for her mother to use for dinner that evening. She loved spending that quality time with her father as he’d educate her on the species of fish they’d catch, along with different fishermen's terms and seamen lingo. It was a wonderful time in her life she had only wished lasted longer, the memories stuck in her head and skipping like a scratched record. 

Suppose the reason she was most nervous to start this whole job was facing that nostalgia, those memories, and a childhood robbed of her too soon. 

The subtle weight of Frank’s hand returned to her lower back as Peach walked them through the lower wharf from the docks, more men stopping to throw a few curious glances her way as they went. Though they didn’t stare long as they’d look away the second Frank would spot them in his peripherals. There wasn’t much along the lower wharf that Peach mentioned she’d need to be aware of in her day-to-day. She’d mostly be helping to make sure their inventory remained in check, keeping to the seventy-thirty ratio to maintain a good image with the Bounty as a whole. Seventy percent fish, thirty percent smuggled goods, and not a crate left unaccounted for. 

Ok, easy enough. 

Venturing to the upper wharf next, they found themselves following some very loosely hung signs that seemed to lead them nowhere. After weaving around a few stacks of crated fish, the upper wharf finally opened up to the “official” packaging area. Here is where Peach showed her the process before the crates moved to the freezers, and introduced her to a couple of men she’d be working with alongside her inventory management. While she could tell these men were putting on a face, welcoming her with a firm handshake and a warm smile, she couldn’t help but feel an underlying, nagging reality. They didn’t need her there, and they weren’t going to, no matter what Fontaine says. And she agreed. But the acidic taste still never left her mouth once realizing that.  

Next was showing her the rest of the upper wharf and how to get to both the Jet Postal and Fighting McDonagh’s Tavern through a tunnel system that branched off from the Pier. Apparently, many men preferred staying at the Tavern for a few hours after a shift before heading back home, some not even leaving and passing out after a night of drinking before wandering through the tunnels for their shift the next day. Peach also slipped her the tip that she’ll be using the Jet Postal center more often than not to send inventory documents to the Bounty’s main office. To which she only whined inwardly at the thought of passing a good few inebriated men, regularly, heading down the opposite end of the tunnel to the Tavern. Lovely. 

They eventually rounded out the upper wharf near the Wharfmaster’s office, to which Peach turned them in the opposite direction rather quickly to head back down to the lower wharf. 

“Betcha Sullivan’s in there now.” Peach had muttered to her once they stepped away. “Rather not poke the bear at the moment, especially with Fontaine here.” A quick glance back towards Frank, who looked ready to beat down the door to confront Sullivan with a few rounds to the face, confirmed it was for the best. She’ll have to meet the man another time.

Returning to the lower wharf, Peach motioned both her and Frank to stay close as they entered the freezers next, another floor below. Labeled only by a giant neon Fontaine Fisheries sign hanging just over the entrance, the second they entered that threshold, Jane had almost wished she had brought a coat. Understanding that they needed to keep the area cool, she still couldn’t dismiss seeing her breath between ragged exhales nor stop her teeth from chattering. She and Frank still trailed close to Peach as they made their way down to the lowest floor of the freezers. Making sure to step around the few thin sheets of ice, she noticed pretty quickly that one freezer, in particular, had more men working around it than the others. Each was doing a very miscellaneous task, one building crates to store the fish, while others were even “cleaning” or chipping sheets of ice from the concrete flooring. 

It became obvious that this freezer might be the secret entrance to the hideout, each man stationed there as a guard to keep an eye on suspicious persons. Fontaine’s presence behind her must have been enough for these watchdogs to allow her through as easily as they did; though not without them keeping a sharp eye on her as they passed, feeling it practically stabbing through her back. 

The airlock door rolled shut behind them once they were through, and Jane allowed her shoulders to relax a bit once noticing there were a lot fewer people here than out along the wharf. However, the cave-like structure that opened up into another tunnel system had her more on edge than around all the curious fishermen and dock workers. No official structures, no fancy wallpapers, no gilded decor, or even the rusted tin plates decorating everywhere else in the wharf; just the smell of more mildew and salt water invading her nose. The steady sound of water dripping from somewhere also echoed as a soft, background rhythm, a light coating of water creating a sheen on the exposed deep sea rocks that made up the walls of the tunnel. 

Peach turned to mutter over his shoulder. “I’m assumin’ you know where you are?” 

Jane could only give a slight nod in response, following Peach further down the tunnel with Frank trailing behind. It felt like they were walking for miles, too, before finally reaching the end of the tunnel. The clicking of her heels deepened into a hesitant clack clack clack as the walls opened up into a cavern before them. 

It was obvious that the real business here was the smuggling ring. Twice as many workers as she saw on the docks alone were packing crate after crate of bibles, different brands of alcohol, other types of literature, cigars, and cigarettes. The packaging process seemed a lot more elaborate, with a few different men spotted pacing around with clipboards, taking stock with absolute precision. A few of them stopped to acknowledge Peach and Frank as they passed, but most continued working as if they weren’t even there. 

“You’re jobs gonna be an important one.” Peach slowed his pace a bit to walk next to Jane. “Helpin’ to maintain inventory down here as well.” He walked them up to another dock with what she could assume was a similar sort of airlock system below the water as it was along the wharf’s docks. 

“There’s one dock in the hideout,” Peach continued, “for a sub that brings in all the smuggled goods from the surface. Granted, it’s a sub twice as big as the fishin’ ones, but it brings in at least two dozen crates worth of goods.” 

Unfortunately, the sub wasn’t docked for her to get an idea of how big it was, but the size of the dock alone was impressive enough. The thing must be massive for it to be able to bring in two dozen crates worth of goods, even more outstanding that it hasn’t been spotted yet by anyone outside the smuggling ring. 

Peach took her around again to introduce her to a few men she’d been working with within the ring as well, all of them giving her similar welcomes as the other men from the wharf had. And while she was all the more nervous traversing the hideout, Peach showing her the ins and outs of the space to avoid detection when assisting with inventory and distribution, she was certainly fascinated and impressed. Jane was half expecting a pokey little hideout, a hole in the wall, somewhere in the Fisheries where men were stuffing shoe boxes with the day’s orders. Never would she have thought it would be this elaborate. 

Though, if this was the type of stuff Frank was doing on the surface, guess she shouldn’t be too surprised. 

Luckily the hideout wasn’t as big as the upper and lower wharf, her feet killing her now in her heels as they traveled over uneven flooring, damp stones, and creaking wood. Still, she kept a convincing poker face as Peach finally led them out of the hideout and back towards the docks on the lower wharf. The same group of men outside the hideout’s entrance were stationed in similar spots when they walked in, but regarding her now with curious glances. 

The attention started to grow on her a bit as well. Not finding the side glances and prolonged staring to bother her as much as when she first walked in. Though, deep down, it was apparent she’d still need to tread carefully over the next few weeks. None of these men struck her as the type to get used to change so quickly, never mind Fontaine’s presence being taken over by a random woman around the Fisheries. 

Just be patient, she kept reminding herself, good things always come to those who wait.  

After saying their goodbyes to Peach with the promise of her return the next day to start officially, she and Frank were quick to head back to the bathysphere docking station. As the sphere descended beneath the waves in a flurry of bubbles, Jane took to standing at the bay window overlooking their path back to the complex. Frank took his usual place at the sphere’s lever, one hand resting comfortably on its leather grip as he caught her gaze through the window’s reflection. 

“You don’t look too enthused ‘bout all of this, Baby Jane.” 

She scoffed, “Really? What gave it away?” Jane crossed her arms, turning to him with a huff. “Was it my vacant stare? Or perhaps the lack of conversation on my part?” 

A soft chuckle spilled past his lips. “Come on, you know we gotta do this.” 

“I know -” She dropped her arms as they slapped her sides, “Doesn’t mean I’m going to enjoy it.” 

“An’ no amount of complainin’ is gonna change my mind either.” He practically scolded. “You make this a livin’ hell for yourself, the next few months are only gonna tick away slower.” 

Jane suppressed the eye-roll at his remark, opting to turn back towards the window just as a humpback whale passed them overhead. Its call reverberating through the water column as it followed them back towards Mercury Suites, and Jane felt goosebumps riddle her skin at the sound. 

Maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe by working this close to the city’s docks, she’ll be able to get a closer look at the different marine species that the fishermen bring back, rather than getting a quick look here and there in the giant fish tank within the Futuristics' labs. Of course, she’ll have an actual job she’ll need to be doing, but there’s no harm in being curious now and then. Anything to help the next few months pass by with ease. 

~*~

She hated to admit to the fact that her heart was hammering quicker than it was on her first day at the Futuristics. Frank had also said goodbye to her that morning with a lingering kiss she wished lasted much longer. Sighing heavily as she boarded the Express to Neptune’s Bounty, she was already upset over the fact that she just couldn’t take the bathysphere with Frank as she had to the Futuristics. Hell to that convenience as well, right? 

Acting as a test to her memory too, Jane clutched her purse as she navigated through the Express station to Pier 4; opting for flats this time around even though they didn’t quite match the pencil skirt and blouse ensemble she had chosen for her first official day. At least her feet wouldn’t be screaming at her later as she stepped carefully over the sodden ground, her head on a swivel as she searched for a familiar face. Luckily, it seemed Peach was waiting for her, the man standing at the med bay situated before the airlock door that led to the docks. 

“Ah, there she is! Miss Hartley!” 

Jane gave a slight wave with a small grin to accompany it, relieved to see that Peach at least had the heart to not abandon her on her first day. 

Peach had a clipboard in hand, lowering it to add, “Or, is Mrs. Fontaine more appropriate? Haven’t heard anythin’ ‘bout you two tying the knot yet.” 

She shrugged, feeling her cheeks flush a bit. “Jane is actually fine. I try to be a bit more informal.” 

Peach beamed, “Jane it is then.” He didn’t hesitate to sweep the clipboard in a motion to follow, and they entered through the airlock door. 

The familiarity of the hustle and bustle of the docks calmed her nerves a bit, a good few men still looking her way, but returning to their work rather quickly once noticing she was also a familiar face. That alone had her exhaling the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. They didn’t stay for long on the docks either as Peach had her following him to the upper wharf, past the packaging stations and towers of crates, rounding a corner he hadn’t taken her the previous day. What caught her eye first was the small office space that had a rather crude make-shift wooden sign above the door frame that read in black paint Peach Wilkins, Wharfmaster. Remembering what Frank had told her about Sullivan kicking Peach from his original office with nothing to give the man but a storage closet, had her feeling for him once she saw this new space herself. Maybe as co-owner, she’ll be able to remedy that…

“Alright, Fontaine said you can borrow his office while you’re here.” Peach interrupted her thoughts as they approached another office. “The man’s not around very often anyway, so make yourself at home.” 

Obvious that it was Frank’s office as another gilded Office of Frank Fontaine sign hung above his doors, he had a bit of decency this time to be a little less grand than his office at the Futuristics. Producing a key from his waders, Peach unlocked the office. The doors slowly creaked open, apparently not used as often as his other offices, and she stepped through with the impressive view of the docks the first thing to catch her eye. The space was about half the size of his Futuristics’ office, a large solid oak desk sat in front of the windows with a mix of bookshelves and filing cabinets lining the space. The place definitely looked untouched, with folders and paperwork stacked neatly on one corner of his desk and a couple of decorative knick-knacks on the other, each with its own appropriate coating of dust. 

As she toed through the space, she also noticed the slight warm glow that was already a stark contrast to the sea-green haze that bathed the Pier from the ocean outside. Whether it was a cause of the soft lights from a few floor lamps scattered throughout the office, or because they were further from the Pier's windows, it only alleviated her senses further.

Just as she was turning around from the floor-to-ceiling window, she caught Peach setting the key on the desk for her. 

“Why dontcha take your time here, look through Fontaine’s paperwork to see if he’s left anythin’ for ya.” He motioned to the pile of folders left on the desk. “I’ll check back up in a coupla hours to start walkin’ you through the inventory process.” 

It was probably not a bad idea. The extra time by herself would also help to calm her down and stop the subtle shake in her hands from the nerves still vibrating under her skin. Jane nodded in agreement, and he left with another wave. 

“I’ll be back before lunch!” He called before the doors creaked shut behind him, leaving her alone in an eerie silence. 

She still couldn’t wrap her head around all of this, starting the week out happily packaging more Elixir containers with her sights set on shoving Ryan from the energy business completely. Never would she have thought she’d end the week at the Fisheries, watching the fishermen and dock workers mill around from her bird’s eye view in Frank’s office. This was all either going to end in disaster with the men demanding Fontaine get her out of their business, or she’d be able to blend right into their day-to-day. She much rather hoped Ryan would scratch his threat altogether and for Frank to agree to bring her back to the labs within the next week. But, if she had any sensibility, she knew that was a one-in-a-million chance. 

Jane let a deep sigh deflate her chest, giving one last glance out the windows before stepping up to Frank’s desk to take the key Peach had left for her. It went straight into her purse too, reaching then for the first folder atop the neat stack along his desk to start reading through it. If anything, she hoped this would kill a good bit of time, eventually taking a seat in the oversized leather chair as she slowly became engrossed in the folder’s contents. 

The first folder she picked up had some information about the Fisheries in general, how it was doing as a business, and its standing with the Bounty. While it appeared the Pier wasn’t bringing in the preferred quantity of resources, they were getting everything out to businesses the quickest. Guess that was enough to keep them out of the red if businesses liked that convenience. 

The next folder had some information about Peach and his request for a new office after Sullivan took it over. The dates on the paperwork marked all of this to have taken place a good few months ago already, and a few letters she found exchanged between Peach and Frank were flooded with tension. She was rather surprised the man appeared to be as “buddy-buddy” as he was with Frank yesterday, especially since all the letters she’d been reading had him threatening his resignation at one point. The second to last letter from Frank to Peach, however, only had her brows knitting as she read through each word carefully. 

The letter was vague on purpose but talked about Frank offering something to Peach in return for his loyalty, and cooperation for this new, albeit smaller, office space. Something that would grant the man both safety and a way to fight back - if anything were to arise in the future. To which Peach agreed almost without question in his corresponding letter, all communication regarding the topic stopping there, leading her to believe any following discussions were in person. 

But Frank’s written words alone caused her heart to drop to her stomach. 

She’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t think something was starting to creep on the horizon. The tension could practically be felt throughout Rapture, especially between Fontaine and Ryan. Of course, she knew nothing she was doing was helping the situation, but there was an odd sort of filter that was blinding her recently to the consequences of her actions. Hoping that whatever she’d be able to do to gain enough force to shut Ryan out of the electrical business would render the man powerless or at least wound his ego enough to not retaliate. Maybe it was her own ignorance in believing Ryan wouldn’t fight back, wouldn’t become paranoid, and threatened to dismantle everything she had worked for. 

But, that’d be going against the morals and principles of Rapture, wouldn’t it? 

Jane rolled her eyes as she set that folder aside, grabbing for the next and flipping through it quickly when nothing immediately jumped out at her. The next few were the same, just general financial information regarding the Fisheries, everything already appearing on track and in the green. Of course, what did she know about running a business? Frank just opened the Little Sisters Orphanage a couple of months ago on top of his four or so other companies, all of which were defining him to be a sort of business powerhouse in Rapture. All she knew was how to open and close the bar during her shifts on the surface. 

The next folder she reached for stopped her in her tracks, looking over its contents, and tilting the folder’s angle a bit while trying to decipher what she just came across. The folder looked like it housed schematics and blueprints regarding a machine to be placed around Rapture. It appeared oddly similar to the Circus of Value vending machines riddled around the city, but more compact and labeled as one of Fontaine’s. Unfortunately, the details of the machine had been written in pencil; the charcoal smudging a bit after sitting in the folder for as long as it has, the brine hanging in the air around it certainly not helping in its preservation. Even after squinting at the pages for several seconds, Jane felt her blood run cold once spotting the two faint words “distribution” and “weapons” in the same sentence. She suddenly slapped the folder shut with a hard swallow. 

Her heart started pounding, echoing in her ears as she opened the folder a bit to peek inside again, curious to reread what legible writing was left and ensure what she saw was true. However, when she caught those same two words, along with another barely coherent sentence below mentioning something about “arming the citizens”, Jane closed the folder again and pushed it toward the center of the desk. 

She stared a bit wide-eyed past the edge of the desk, trying to make sense of what she just read. Yet she didn’t want to overthink it, the implications of Peach and Frank’s letters, and now these machine blueprints - these weapon distribution machines. What was Frank planning, what was he anticipating? And why wasn’t he telling her about it? 

Before she could move on to the next folder, and maybe find some potential answers lying within, the doors to the office folded open again. She was almost glad to see Peach sauntering through, whistling some tune with that same clipboard resting in his grasp along his side. Wow, it was almost noon? 

“Ready to get started?” Yet, she couldn’t be more thankful for leaving these folders behind, getting up from the desk quickly to trail behind Peach out of the office.

However, her curiosity kept pestering her as she followed Peach around the docks. Trying her best to take mental notes and listen intently to what the man was instructing her, and showing her on his clipboard. But the lingering thought that weapons could potentially be within the Pier somewhere had her on edge, wanting to know why and if Peach had any idea. Yet, something was also nagging at her that maybe the topic wasn’t the best to bring up on her first official day. 

Instead, she only continued to follow the man throughout the docks and upper wharf, moving around the same route he had taken her on the previous day. Today, she attempted to pay attention a bit more, feeling as if she was back with her father on the surface, learning how to fish again. Even though she actually won’t be fishing, Peach couldn’t help but stop and show her the ins and outs of how the fishermen catch fish from the sub and bring it back. And it fascinated her, the process and how these fishermen were able to do what she and her father had always done, but in a submarine.

For a moment, forgetting about those folders, forgetting about the letters and schematics, she felt like a little girl again, fully immersed in a familiar atmosphere she had abandoned long ago. 

And when the early evening eventually rolled around, Jane was almost taken aback at how quickly the day had gone. Peach had already given her some inventory paperwork, which she took to organizing with a few other necessary paperwork on Frank’s desk, already making it her own. Hopefully, he won’t mind some of his things being misplaced and reorganized. From the bay windows of the office, she had also been occasionally watching the fishermen switching out, those on the midnight shift already wading in. Perfect timing for her to leave as well and try her damnedest to hold her poker face when talking to Frank tonight. Don’t want to make it seem like she actually had a good first day. 

Smiling a bit to herself, Jane fished the office key from her purse as the office doors shuttered behind her. However, as she turned around after checking to make sure everything was locked up, Peach’s unexpected presence in front of her startled her something fierce. 

“Oh, Peach - “ She took a breath, a hand reaching for her chest to calm her racing heart as she gave him a friendly smile, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” 

However, Peach’s abrupt shift in attitude threw her for an even bigger loop. The older man’s brows were set, features sagging a bit compared to the warm and sociable personality he’d be gracing her the entire day so far. Worried she had maybe done or said something wrong to upset him, her features narrowed to mirror his own. 

“Is everything alrig - ” She managed before Peach was quick to interrupt her. 

“Look, I don’t know what game Fontaine is playin’,” He leaned in close, voice dropping to a harsh whisper that had her skin crawling. “But I wanna make one thing clear with you, sweetheart.” 

Another sharp inhale had her puffing her chest a bit, immediately defensive as he hissed.

“You ain’t my boss, got it? Co-owner or not - no matter what Fontaine says.” 

Her curiosity towards his strange behavior immediately turned sour, bleeding through her chest like acid with bitterness to shadow her features. She was originally going to try and reassure the man she was only going to be here for a couple of months, an apology for her unwanted presence floating to sit on her tongue until she swallowed it whole with a rumbled growl.

“You think I want to be here?” Jane couldn’t stop herself from biting back, stepping forward into Peach’s space. Like hell, she was afraid of this man. “I had no more of a choice in this decision than you.” She jabbed a sharp nail towards his chest. “Say whatever you want, Wilkins, but it’s not going to scare me off or change Fontaine’s mind.” 

He glanced down towards her finger, pointed accusingly towards him and she gave a huff before moving to step around him. She barely got a couple of feet before hearing a crude scoff towards her back, and she turned on her heels with blood scorching her veins. 

How dare he.  

“And if it’s any consolation, Peach.” She managed to snag his attention as the man attempted to hide another mocking breath, making sure she had the very last word. “You ain’t my boss either.”

Just as the man opened his mouth again, daring to utter another remark to rile her up even more, Jane was already turning again to walk away. With her shoulders tense, she had to bite her tongue to keep the welling of tears from brimming along her lower lid. The last thing she needed was these men seeing her cry, seeing her break down from the frustration that had been slowly building over this past week. She’d never show that side of her here, never did on the surface, and sure as hell won’t at the Fisheries. 

Instead, she kept her breath steady and anger at bay as she left for the Bounty’s Express Station, ignoring everything and everyone who had attempted to speak to her or see her off for the day. And while she felt guilty about how well her first official day had been going so far, she couldn’t help but feel the desperate need to run to the one person who’d soothe her mind and ease her frustration. 

~

“What, did you expect him to welcome you in right away? Have some sort of gift basket an’ free lunch lined up?” 

Her jaw hung slack, brows knitting at his comment as Frank sat back in his office chair. The anger had started to bubble beneath her skin, about to storm back out into the bedroom when he opened his mouth again. 

“Look, Doll, it took a while for the guys at the bar to start respectin’ you, right? It’s no different down at the Fisheries.” Frank clicked his tongue when she didn’t reply right away. “I knew Peach was gonna come after you with a remark like that. Guy’s been head of that Pier pretty much since I established the Fisheries down here, I don’t blame him for bein’ a bit pissed there’s a new boss all of a sudden.” 

Jane huffed. “So, just like that. Peach says something like that to me, and you’re just going to shrug your shoulders at it?”

The chuckle was a little unexpected as Frank stood from his chair, circling around his desk to prop himself along the edge. “Well, it sounds like you made yourself clear as well that you’re not gonna take any shit from ‘im either.” 

And what if she did? These men weren’t going to step back and come around to her that quickly. Jane only stood with arms crossed tightly over her chest, trying to avoid his smirk and steely blue eyes that looked on in amusement. As she kept her gaze on anywhere but him, rather running her attention across the bookshelf adjacent to her; she managed to snag a few folders stacked neatly along a shelf and her thoughts shifted to the folders back at his Fisheries office. 

Frank must have noticed her face drop a bit. Staring blankly at his bookshelf, he muttered her name. 

“Got somethin’ else on your mind?” 

Should she ask him? Yet how does she casually bring up the letters between him and Peach? And the strange machine with its schematics suggesting it to be some sort of weapons distribution device? Jane turned back to face him, his question still hanging in the air above on a fraying rope. The topic made her stomach churn, the letters still burned into her memory with every word sitting heavy on her chest. It seemed her reputation at the Fisheries was starting to become the least of her problems, yet it was impossible to know how Frank would respond to her reading such confidential information. 

Instead, her lips tilted into a small grin with a breathless giggle. Now was as good as any to change the subject. “Oh, no, I guess - I guess I just miss you. That’s all.” 

“Miss me?” He crossed his arms as well. “I’m standin’ right here, you know.” 

Jane cracked another smile. “Yeah, I know. I mean, I miss always being able to see you in your office at the Futuristics.” She tipped her head a bit towards her feet, looking at him from under her lashes. “Especially if I needed something.”  

Another scoff shook his chest. “I don’t know, I’ve been able to get a lot of shit done since you’ve started at the Fisheries.” 

While a pout still pursed her lips, she knew he was only teasing, his smirk giving away to a smile and any malice. Yet, she took to huffing dramatically in response to his comment, sticking her bottom lip out a little further. 

“Aw, don’t pout like that, Doll.” He finally lifted himself from his desk to take a couple of steps towards her, leaning in to mutter as he circled behind her. “A lot of what you needed were things I could’ve easily taken care of here anyway.” 

She felt goosebumps rise along her arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She straightened her spine. “I was thinking about always needing signatures on documents and approvals for things.” 

“Uh-huh.” Jane didn’t need to see him to recognize the brow raise that accompanied his tone riddled with disbelief. He wasn’t buying it and the dip in his voice to also soak his words nearly had her knees buckling. “So, those few times you came to me practically beggin’ to bend you over my desk, soakin’ through all those pairs of lace underwear, lookin’ for a quick fuck - you’re not countin’ those?” 

A fierce blush lined her cheeks, a searing heat settling along the bridge of her nose and burning her ears. “N-no.” 

His next words were warm against the shell of her ear. “Hm, that’s too bad. I believe I owe you from those few times I said no. Maybe it’ll ease whatever else is on your mind?” 

Well, if he was offering…how could she refuse the opportunity for a distraction? With a small nod in agreement, barely looking over her shoulder towards him, he didn’t waste another moment. After winding his arms around her waist, he tugged her back through the door of his office to the bedroom. A fit of giggles had also suddenly erupted from her, the noise bubbling and trailing after them as they went. 

Those files and letters can surely wait. It’s not like they were in any sort of immediate danger anyway, right? 

~*~

A routine was easier to establish than she had initially thought, of course, it helped that she was of the mindset to do the bare minimum for her job. It allowed for easy days, at least. Getting up around her usual time, she’d take a moment to make breakfast for everyone before getting ready for the day. However, it was rather difficult some mornings as Frank’s incessant touches and peppering of kisses along her neck would distract her incredibly so. At the same time, she understood he must have felt bad enough for her having to do this, trying in any way to make it up to her. And while the extra attention was lovely, she found her mood souring just a bit once traversing through the Bounty from the Express station. 

The job itself wasn’t as bad as it turned out to be. Some of the fishermen and dock workers were even pleasant to work with as they seemed to have more neutral thoughts towards her as their new co-owner. Peach, however, was a man she actively avoided; only seeking him out and conversing with him if she absolutely had to. It was a lot of tip-toeing around the man she absolutely hated doing, wanting him to just get over the fact that she was there against both their wills. Otherwise, she took to her office as a sort of shelter for the majority of the day before wandering out to check up on everyone and their inventory counts. 

She figured out pretty quickly that the Bounty had a set minimum number of required inventory before the Pier would close to all businesses for the day. Most of her job involved taking stock and sending these updates to the Bounty’s office by the end of the evening shift. If they made the quota, her desk phone would be quiet the next day. If they didn’t - let’s just say that the first lengthy and disappointing phone call she got from the Bounty’s office was one she certainly didn’t want to participate in again. 

Today, however, they were doing pretty well so far as Jane wandered from one docked sub to the next gathering each worker’s count. With her clipboard balanced in the crook of her arm, a friendly wave and smile lifted her spirits a bit once stepping up to the next dock worker. 

“Good afternoon, Miss Hartley!” The man straightened himself from the crate he’d been packing. 

“Good afternoon, Riley.” Jane greeted and lifted her clipboard. “How are we today, going to meet today’s quota?” 

The tall, lengthy man shoved his hands in his wader’s pockets with a hum towards the few crates in a line next to him on the dock. “We should! Just packed crate number ten; the others are already on the upper wharf, an’ we’ve got another sub cyclin’ in afta this one.” He jutted a thumb back towards the docked fishing sub behind him. 

Perfect. She scribbled down the number with a small grin. “Bounty’s asking for a dozen today, think you’re going to be able to manage?” 

“Yep!” Another gaped smile met her own, “Next sub should be bringin’ in another few crates worth.” 

Even better. She could maybe get away with adding those extra crates to tomorrow’s inventory as well. Moving on to the next section of her forms, she started her usual quiz with the man on how many of the crates were tuna, salmon, and so on. Writing down everything almost mindlessly was a routine she was very much used to at this point after the few weeks she’d been at the Fisheries already. 

“Alright, Riley - “ Jane flipped through the pages on her clipboard to the next section of forms regarding his fishing sub’s maintenance. “Your sub doing better after the new wiring?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He turned back to the sub to inspect it for a second. “Been doin’ pretty well since it’s got a new Co2 do-hickey in it too.” 

Another smile tugged at her lips as she took note, listening to him go on about how smooth it rides now since the all-new wiring and parts. However, mid-sentence, he suddenly stopped, and she lifted her attention to find the man looking just over her shoulder behind her. 

“Miss Hartley, um -” He nodded to whatever commotion was happening just a ways over, and Jane turned to give a quick glance. 

Yet, the sight that greeted her turned her blood cold. Whipping her head back towards Riley, the man raised both brows before she quickly turned on her heels towards the docks behind them. 

She’d never met Sullivan in person before, but she could tell who he was from a mile away. And he had a dock worker’s shirt in his fist, barking incoherently at him with a few others circling around, trying to pry Sullivan off the other man. 

Jane jogged as quickly as she could in the confines of her skirt and heels, yelling the closer she got. “What’s going on?” But her words fell on deaf ears and a fire in her sparked before she shouted another sharp, “Hey!” 

The commotion stopped with all eyes shifting around and falling on her, yet she stood tall and a little pissed off. 

“What the hell is going on here?” 

There was a heavy pause hanging in the air around them as the group of gathering men started muttering amongst themselves. Sullivan assessed her head-to-toe with a smile slow to curl his lips, releasing one hand on the dock worker’s shirt. 

“Ah, you must be Miss Hartley.” He tilted his head, giving her a nice view of his thinning hairline. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

Though, she wasn’t here for pleasantries or introductions. Noticing the dock worker to be a smaller man named Sam - some calling him Sammy G - she locked eyes with him first and noticed immediately the panic flaring behind his cracking mask; no less trying to keep an air of control and nerves of steel. All of which looked to be falling away with Sullivan’s fist tight against the fabric along his chest. Regardless if she’s never met Sullivan in person, she hates bullies, and this man is no different than the assholes she’s had to deal with at The Siren.

And she wasn’t having any of it. “I asked what’s going on, Mr. Sullivan.” Jane leveled him with an icy stare, a look she’s basically perfected after watching Frank’s. 

Sullivan’s features instantly dropped as he cleared his throat. “Well, pardon my intrusion, Miss Hartley, but I need to take this man back to my office for some…questionin'.”

“Why?” Her brows knit, “What has he done?” 

The group of men now crowding around them were silent, looking between her and Sullivan, intrigued. Sullivan also took a second to regard their audience and huffed a scoff.

“Well, last night, I happened to have heard some commotion on the docks from my office, I came out to see a couple of men handlin' a crate.” Jane crossed her arms, encouraging him to continue. “I thought they were just storin' more crates of fish until I watched them drop it, an' dozens of bibles an' cigar cases spilled out. An' this man - “ Sullivan reached to yank Sammy by his side with a grunt. “Was one of 'em.” 

She turned to the dock worker, “Sammy, is this true?” She’d be dumb to believe he’d tell the truth in front of Sullivan. 

Still, he shook his head frantically, Sullivan giving him a nasty side-eye. “No, ma’am. I was at the Tavern, you can ask Tim.” A shaky hand stretched out to point towards another dock worker, Timmy H, in the front of the crowd, who also nodded briefly. 

“Yeah, Sammy was there with me,” Timmy spoke up as his voice cracked a bit. “We was even talkin’ ‘bout goin’ to Pharaoh’s Fortune before it got too late.” 

Her attention fell back onto Sullivan with a quirk of her brow. “You’re sure you saw Sammy out on the docks?” 

“Absolutely, clear as day.” 

Jane clicked her tongue, a hand dropping to rest on her hip. “Any evidence? Photos?” 

The question seemed to have offended the man, who grumbled a bit under his breath, “No - unfortunately, I had left my camera in my office.” 

“Then you have no reason to take him.” She stated, “Innocent until proven guilty, right? And you have no proof.” 

Sullivan cleared his throat as the group of men surrounding them started muttering amongst themselves again, his eyes darting between a few of them before commenting with a forced chuckle. “Miss Hartley, I’m sure you must be aware of why I’m here at this Pier - to deal with the accusations of the Fisheries hidin' contraband an' smuggled goods? All illegal in Rapture?” 

“Yes, I’ve heard the rumors.” 

Oo, he didn’t like that word, his eyes narrowing dangerously towards her. “Then you must -” 

“Get off my docks, Sullivan.” She interrupted, still not interested in any of the bullshit he was trying to pull. 

Deep hazel eyes bugged a bit as he did a few takes between her and the man still tight in his grip along his side. “Pardon?” 

“I said get the fuck off my docks.” Jane spat, trying her damnest to keep a level head but was starting to get pissed off by his obstinacy. “I cannot have you disrupting my hardworking, innocent men to fuel your outlandish conspiracies.” 

Sullivan looked taken aback for a second, surprised by her boldness and he scowled. “Conspiracies? Miss Hartley, I’m not sure what or how much Fontaine has told you about my presence here -” 

“And you think that would have made a difference?” She interrupted him again, taking a step forward. “I’ve heard enough about why you’re here, I just don’t understand why you feel a need to still be here. Especially when you obviously haven’t found anything to support your dense assumptions.” 

The murmuring increased amongst the crowd of dock workers surrounding them, some even shuffling around to stand closer to Jane as Sullivan’s glare only sharpened on her. 

“I can hardly call them assumptions. I would actually take your presence here as a sign Fontaine has somethin' rather significant to hide.” He flipped the tables on her, “That’s why you’re here, correct? Co-owner? It seems rather convenient to me.” 

Fuck him.  

It wasn’t often that she felt genuine anger, and truthfully, she didn’t like it. The white-hot emotion flooding her senses and sending the worst of obscenities to sit on the tip of her tongue; daring her to cross the line and wound. And while her free hand balled into a fist with nails biting her palm enough to draw blood, she sucked a deep breath, but not to calm herself.  

“Fontaine and I decided on my new position, as co-owner at the Fisheries, so that I could deal with you firsthand.” 

The man had the nerve to chuckle. “You? Fontaine thought of you to be the best person for this?” He paused to sweep his gaze over the crowd again, some even looking at him with the same sort of disbelief. “And here I thought he was a sensible man.” 

She really wished that hadn’t stung as much as it did, especially with the few chuckles heard bubbling from the dock workers. At the same time, this felt all too familiar. Every other night at The Siren, she’d be dealing with a disrespectful asshole like Sullivan. Too bad for him she had learned to grow a thick skin over the years at that bar and was stubborn as hell. 

“Yes,” Jane was able to keep her voice steady, “And I agree with him, especially when I’ve dealt with men twice your size and drunk, Mr. Sullivan.” A pretty ballsy comment, if she’d say so herself, being that Sullivan probably stood a good few inches shorter than her - without heels. “And don’t think if I can kick those men to the curb for being disrespectful to me or any of my men in my bar on the surface, that I won’t be able to do the same to you.” 

Watching his jaw clench gave her immense satisfaction; the man standing there wracked with what looked like a million thoughts invading his mind. His grip loosened on Sammy’s shirt, barely giving the poor man a side glance as he kept his attention glued to her. Yet, she stood unwavering, arms crossing and defensive for every man who stood behind her and who moved to stand at her side. And when Sullivan seemed unable to roll another smart remark off his tongue, Jane did him a favor and nodded towards the stairs back to his office. 

“Get the hell off my wharf.” 

 He took a deep breath but sounded far beyond defeated as he hissed. “Alright, so be it.” 

His fist released Sammy’s shirt completely. His eyes narrowed at the man before he wedged his way through the group of workers, who all watched him storm off with tense shoulders. They turned back to Jane, who watched Sullivan leave, brows knitting, just knowing this wouldn’t be the last time she’d have to demand him to leave one of the dock workers alone. 

Lost in her thoughts for a second, she took a moment to scan the crowd of workers who surrounded her, eyes wide and appearing like a lost gaggle of puppies. Her chest expanded with an odd sense of power, and she shrugged as nonchalant as possible. 

“Well? Get back to work.” 

They scattered immediately, some men bumping into each other as they were quick to jog back to their abandoned crates and docks. Shaking her head with a smirk, Jane turned to find Riley had been behind her during the entire ordeal, that same smile plastered on his face. 

“Now,” She returned the grin. “Where were we?” 

~

There was a strange shift after Sullivan had finally retreated back to his office; she couldn’t deny it. As she continued her rounds to each dock worker, getting the same information from them about their day’s inventory count; she couldn’t help but notice how rather shocked they all seemed to be. Granted, she tried to ignore it, focusing instead on getting the numbers she needed and ensuring the Pier did their job today in hitting the Bounty’s goals. Fortunately, they did, and she withdrew to her office an hour or so later to crunch the numbers and write up the report to send. 

And just as she was about done, her hand cramping from filing out the last form, an unexpected knock had her squinting at the office doors. 

“Come in.” She called to whoever was on the other side and was actually a little surprised to see Peach shuffling through. 

Yet, trying to let bygones be bygones, Jane threw a small smile his way as he approached with a few papers in hand. 

“I - ah - I forgot to give these to you earlier, the remainin’ paperwork for the Bounty’s office. Got all the numbers from the freezers.” 

He set the stack to the left of her on the desk, and she thanked him, cursing inwardly to herself at how she almost forgot about the freezer’s paperwork as well. Dammit, that means she needs to go back and double-check her write-ups…

“I also wanted to apologize, Miss Hartley,” Peach spoke up again, drawing her attention back to the man who stood rather awkwardly on the other side of her desk. “For what I said on your first day. Wasn’t right of me to go assumin’ things.” 

While his words still sat chained towards the back of her subconscious, breaking free now and then to whisper those damning remarks; she couldn’t dismiss his genuine tone. Peach also reached a hand to rub at the back of his neck, those beady eyes drifting up to snag her own before shooting back down towards the paperwork on her desk. 

“I also wanted to thank you - well, the guys all wanted to say thanks for standin’ up to Sullivan as well.” He finally looked up as she waited patiently, “Only other person who’s been able to send the man stompin’ off like that has been Fontaine. Just…didn’t know you had it in ya.” 

Jane couldn’t help the smirk to twist her lips, breaking eye contact with him this time to shuffle the stack of papers in front of her. “I wasn’t lying when I said there’s a reason as to why he stuck me down here. I’ve dealt with worse men than Sullivan, trust me.” 

She wasn’t referring to Peach specifically, the man still ducking his head sheepishly at the comment, but at least it finally was getting through to him and the others that she wasn’t just some pretty face - wasn’t just Fontaine’s “fiancée” who was thrown down here on a whim. She meant every word she said to Sullivan. She’d protect these men on the wharf and within the Pier; they got shit done, whether it was for the smuggling ring or their facade of a fish-packing business. They were loyal to Fontaine; most have even been good to her. She’d put herself between them and Sullivan any day. 

“Still,” Jane sat the papers aside, folding her arms atop the desk to fish for his attention once more. “I understand my introduction to the Fisheries might have been rather unexpected, a jarring change if you will. But, thank you, for the apology.”

Peach returned the grin, his shoulders dropping a bit as if they had been held up by a taunt string. “Most men didn’t see it comin’, but it doesn’t give them or myself a reason to talk to you like we did. Just kinda wish Fontaine gave us the heads up.” 

Yeah, she sort of wished that as well, and she huffed a brief chuckle. “Regardless, I accept your apology, Peach. That was very courteous of you.” She watched a slight pink dust the man’s cheeks. “And if Sullivan rears his head into anyone’s business again, you just let me know.” 

His nod was enthusiastic, “Sure thing, Miss Hartley. I surely wouldn’t mind watchin’ all that again.” 

He and all the other dock workers, from what she gathered. Still, while it was cathartic to throw several choice words at Sullivan, she couldn’t shake the reasoning as to why he was out on the docks so late in the first place. 

As Peach had been recounting what he saw earlier and how great it was to see the cop put in his place for once, Jane couldn’t stop herself from interrupting him. 

“Hey, Peach, why was Sammy out on the docks that late anyway? With a crate of contraband?” 

“‘Cause the man was bein’ a dumbass.” Peach’s features dropped a bit, brows narrowing. “He an’ the other dock worker thought they could transport an extra crate that the copper sub was supposed to get in the mornin’. I told ‘em to wait, an’ that the two of ‘em weren’t gonna be able to handle a larger crate like that themselves.” 

She had learned early on that “copper sub” was a nickname for the contraband sub, which had some copper-colored trim that set it apart from the other fishing subs. It was supposed to carry a few dozen crates at a time, but still had a limit to it, to which some extra crates were left behind - even if it was just one. Jane shook her head at the absurdity of the two men, and the utter carelessness of transporting a contraband crate outside of the hideout. 

“What did they do to the crate and materials?” Jane tapped her pencil against her chin in thought, dreading to know the answer. 

Peach scoffed, “Into the brine. Guess they saw Sullivan high-tailin’ to his office to get his camera an’ they dumbed everythin’ off the docks.” 

Her eyes bugged. “What?!” Peach only nodded. “Do they not realize that if Sullivan has any sort of motive, he’ll drain the wharf in a heartbeat?” 

“Apparently not.” He shrugged. “But don’t worry too much about it. I’m having the guys go divin’ to pick up every last bible an’ cigar case to incinerate.” 

A deep sigh deflated Jane's chest as she sat back in her seat. The combination of disbelief and relief almost made her dizzy as spots started to cloud the corners of her vision. She reached a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment as she felt a headache starting to throb along her temples. God, did Frank have to deal with all this when he was here? No wonder he always seemed like he was in a bad mood when she first met his Fontaine character. 

After a few seconds, Jane lowered her hand to find Peach looking on with a shallow smile, obviously understanding her frustration. The poor guy has to deal with these men more than her anyway. 

“I’ll take care of it, Miss Hartley. Don’t you worry. An’ if I need to be the one to tell Fontaine about all this instead, I’d be happy to.” 

She returned the smile. “Oh, that’s ok, Peach. I can handle Fontaine.” Speaking of which - “But, there is one more thing I want to ask you, if that’s alright?” 

“A’course, whatdya need?” 

That little voice of reason was quick to interject itself into her next train of thought, stating the fact that maybe this topic wasn’t a good idea to bring up to Peach, of all people. Still, her curiosity was assertive as she cleared her throat. 

“I was going through some of Frank’s files and came across a few that were…interesting, to say the least.” The man quirked his brow before she continued. “And, you can tell me to mind my business, but I found some letter between you two about your new office accommodations?” A brief nod, “But, in one of Frank’s letters, he mentioned compensating you with something that could help to protect yourself, to help you fight, if there was anything to arise.” 

Peach stood a little straighter and crossed his arms as she almost muttered her next question. “What did Frank mean by that?” 

He was quiet for a second, a hand lifting to rub at the stubble on his chin. “Hm, woulda assumed he’d keep you updated on everything, but guess not, huh?” 

Jane only shrugged, and he huffed. “Fontaine’s got it in his head that some rift with Ryan’s gonna stir up trouble for the rest of us. So, he’s been preparin’. Just installed more Power to the People machines ‘round Fort Frolic, I believe.” 

“Power to the People?” The implication made her stomach churn. 

“Yeah, they’re like these weapon enhancement machines. Also, spit out a pistol or two if you need ‘em.” Peach chuckled, “ Arm the people of Rapture, he was sayin’, mostly for protection, but wouldn’t put it past ‘im if it was another cash grab a’sorts. That’s Fontaine for ya.” 

Jane swore she was getting nauseous just listening to the man. “When did he install these?” But still, her curiosity was stubborn. 

Peach hummed to himself as he thought, counting on his fingers back a few months. “Believe this January was the first he installed, down in the freezers near the hideout entrance.” 

So, those schematics she saw… were for these Power to the People machines. A weapon distribution unit was right under her nose, and she completely missed it. 

“Right.” She cleared her throat again, her voice cracking a bit. “And what - um - what did he give you? As compensation?” 

He perked up. “Oh, he was generous ‘nough to give me an arsenal. Arm myself an’ any other citizen who’d fight for ‘im.” 

An arsenal? What and how was Frank able to come across enough weapons to arm one of his most loyal men with an entire arsenal? Her blood ran cold at the thought of Frank doing all of this those days he’d come back to the complex late. Saying he’d be out to oversee some new installations with his businesses, now realizing he could have meant the installation of these machines. 

“Interesting.” Jane tried to mask her immediate concern with a tilt of her features. “Well, thank you, Peach - for the information. I’ll have to bring this up to Frank, as you said, apparently he doesn’t tell me everything .” 

Fortunately, the man seemed unphased by the slight shake in her voice. “No problem!” And just as he started turning to walk away, he was quick to stop himself. “Oh, right, some of the guys wanted me to ask if you’d want to join us for a drink or two at the Tavern. As a thank you a’sorts for dealin’ with Sullivan.” 

Jane felt her shoulders sag, “Thank you, Peach, but I’ll have to give a rain check this time. I still have some paperwork to finish and send to the Bounty’s office. I promise, next time.” 

He seemed understanding enough, giving her a sympathetic smile before a quick nod. “Sounds good. Have a good night, Miss Jane.” 

Oh, he actually called her “Jane” this time; and she couldn’t help the grin tugging at her lips. “You too, Peach.” 

She watched him go with one last wave as the office doors slid shut, leaving her in an eerie silence interrupted by the millions of questions bombarding her. Her hands reached to cradle her temples as a vicious and sudden headache followed the slew of thoughts. 

How was Frank capable of putting these machines around Rapture? Where was he getting the weapons? What rift was he thinking about possibly happening between him and Ryan? Why did he think it would affect the entire city? What wasn’t he telling her? Was there anything else, a fight, a threat, something to have happened to entice him to pull such a bold move like this? And why wasn’t he telling her? 

Everything stopped as Jane dropped the pen onto her desk. The sudden clack pulled her back into reality as she looked at the unfinished paperwork sitting slightly crumpled in front of her. 

If Frank was predicting and preparing for a war, then this paperwork was the least of her worries right now. She didn’t take a second longer either to stand from her desk and hastily grab her things before rushing out and locking the office door with trembling fingers. 

She needed answers. Now. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

Luckily for her, Frank decided to stay at the complex today, opting to work from his office instead of traversing all over Rapture from one business to the next. She wasn’t sure she could spend all that time waiting for him anyway, so she quickly raced up the stairs towards their bedroom to find him. Glancing through the frosted wall of his office, she saw him pacing around the space, not knowing he was actually on the phone with someone, until she forced her way through his office door. 

His immediate reaction was a bit surprised to see her home so early, responding to a question asked on the other end of the line before adding, “No, everythin’s fine. Jane’s just home early. We’ll talk when I see you tomorrow.” Then he hung up. 

He threw a smile her way after placing the phone on the receiver, until noticing the slight dread riddling her features. 

“What’s wrong, Doll?” Frank raised a brow at her tense posture. "I heard what happened at the Fisheries. Wish I was there to see it, bet you gave Sullivan hell.” Another smile lifted his lips, but her lack of response had his face dropping again. 

“What, did Sullivan say some shit to you?” His defensiveness was instant, “Peach give you a hard time again?” 

“Where did you get the weapons?” 

Soft blue hardened to steel, his eyes narrowing as he slipped both hands into his pockets. 

“What?” 

“How did you get the weapons? Where else have you installed the Power to the People machines?” Jane could feel her heart starting to pound in her chest, the sound echoing in her ears as her voice began to crack. “An - and the conflict between you and Ryan, what else is happening that has you arming citizens? Why aren’t you telling me anything?!” 

“Jane -” 

She couldn’t stop herself now. “I mean, giving your average John Doe and Sally May something to arm themselves with? It’s fucking dangerous, Frank! What are you expecting to happen?” 

“Jane, stop .” He spat, cold and commanding as her jaw clicked shut, but the fear etched on her face never relented as she looked on at him. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he squeezed his eyes shut for a second while responding. “This is the exact reason why I hadn’t told you any of this.” 

“But it’s paranoia!” Jane interjected. “You’re almost as bad as Ryan!” 

She didn’t expect the next glare shot her way to hold as much venom as it did, “Yeah? What if it is?!” But before he could let his anger completely take hold, Frank stopped himself and turned away from her. He paced towards the frosted wall, his back to her as he inhaled a few deep breaths. 

Jane also attempted to pause the shaking felt sprouting from her chest to her fingers, balling her hands into fits to make it less obvious she was also barely hanging on by a thread. 

“Jane,” he finally spoke up from the window, sighing and tilting his head to the side so she could hear him. “If you’ve been doing what I have for as long as I have, then you’d know that havin’ more people on your side than the other guy is the key to winnin’, survivin', especially if they’re armed.” 

And she didn’t doubt that, didn’t doubt him, but still. “Frank, you’re asking for a civil war if this ends up out of your control.” 

“Who said it was gonna get out of my control?” The smirk was subtle but made her blood run cold. “Way I see it, the only way for any of this to go wrong is if Ryan sinks the city another several hundred fathoms an’ dooms us all.” 

Great. It was not convincing her to feel any better about the situation, at all. He must have also noticed that with how she lifted her arms to wrap around her abdomen, her face falling. A deep sigh deflated his chest as he stepped away from the frosted wall, pacing slowly towards her with a wary eye tracking him. 

“Look, honey, “ Frank planted himself in front of her, “Don’t worry ‘bout all the logistics, the machines, the talk from others - especially Peach.” He was hesitant to touch her but reached out to gently pry her arms from herself, intertwining his fingers with hers. “Just remember the plan, yeah? Once we finally get rid of Ryan, Rapture’s ours. Then, we can open it up to the surface. I can finally getcha that beach cottage back in Portland, an’ Rapture can become our vacation destination.”

Jane perked up a bit at the mention of the beach cottage, her eyes lifting from where he held her hands to his face. 

“An’ your energy Elixir? Baby, I promise you the entire city will run off that stuff, an’ maybe it’ll even get out to the rest of the world. Powerin’ Paris, New York, Sydney? You’ll be a household name everywhere.” 

A warmth ignited in her chest at his words, spreading throughout the rest of her body with a smirk slow to crawl across her lips. The possibility for her and her hard work to be recognized across the globe was the most enticing part of Frank’s whole plan for his Rapture takeover. At first, she had begged him to let the whole thing go and for them to find a way to escape back to the surface. Until he whispered those tantalizing words along the shell of her ear the night before she started at the Fisheries, he had the opportunity to make her successful beyond anything she’d ever envisioned. Rapture was just the tip of the upside-down iceberg; the rest lay above them on the surface, with Rapture being the perfect bait. A utopia underwater that people could visit, come and go from, live in, or return to from dry land. 

All they had to do was dismantle the backward morals Ryan used to lock Rapture’s doors and get rid of the king himself. 

While the idea of a potential war gave her the chills, leaving a sour taste in her mouth, she trusted Frank completely. If this is what he’s used to on the surface, with his many lives and cons, who was she to argue with him? To tell him what strategies were better and more effective? Ryan’s been pretty quiet since she started at the Fisheries anyway, so something must be going right. 

Jane’s attention slowly lulled back from where she had been staring just over his shoulder, lost in her thoughts as she weighed the pros and cons of the situation. Frank met her gaze with a smirk, his hands reaching to crawl along her arms and take her waist instead. Pulling her flush against his front, she couldn’t suppress the brief giggle as he peppered kisses along the slop of her neck.

“It’s still dangerous,” she managed between a few breathless gasps. “But if you’ve got it under control, just please promise to start telling me more. And that neither of us will get hurt if things go south.” 

Her words were already heavy on her tongue, but the look he gave her next crushed her soul. It was the honest sincerity bleeding through his mask that scared her the most. Nothing shook him, even when she knew him on the surface. There was always an air of control and confidence that even the most brave and seasoned sailor could never match. But the look he gave her then was a rarity, his eyes flooding with the millions of thoughts he wanted to convey but never did. 

His features were set, sagging a bit when he instead whispered a soft “Promise.” Yet it was a promise he regretted immediately, knowing damn well it’d be impossible to keep. 

~*~

Ryan cleared his throat, startling him from his wandering thoughts, and Frank snapped his attention back to the other man. 

“I said, what are your thoughts on the matter, Fontaine? If you have any.” 

Fuck. He hadn’t been listening to a damn word Ryan had been saying, overthinking the conversation with Jane yesterday. He also hadn’t realized his attention had wandered out to the ocean past the window they were sitting next to. The half-eaten swordfish on his plate probably cold by now. 

Instead of wracking his brain for whatever topic Ryan had been droning on about before his mind wandered, Frank gave a half-hearted shrug. 

“Like I need to tell you.” He honestly didn’t mean for the bite to his words. “You always know what my thoughts are on any matter, Ryan.” Yet, the man gave a rather exhausted eye roll in response. 

Ryan also took another sip of his wine before commenting, “I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised. I can imagine how distracted you might be with your businesses and - other matters.” 

While he knew exactly what Ryan was eluding to with his “other matters,” Frank still scoffed as he reached for his own drink as well. The whisky burned going down with his attention drifting over towards the window of the Kashmir again. He was also well aware of how important these little meet-ups with Ryan were, a way to keep each other in check with casual conversations and subtle updates on each other’s business affairs. However, Jane’s words were still sitting heavy on his conscience. All these promises were getting more challenging to keep and ensure, especially when things were becoming so hazy on the horizon.

“I did want to extend my congratulations, though.” Ryan was talking again as Frank dragged himself out of his thoughts. “With Jane becoming the new co-owner of the Fisheries. Was the Futuristics becoming too stale for her?” 

Ha! Very funny. 

The amusement must have been evident along his features as Frank hid the next smirk to tug at his lips behind the rim of his glass. “We agreed she needed a change, a different routine, different sights.” He interrupted himself with another sip. “She has the experience fishin’ with her old man when she was young. An’ the Fisheries is a lot more excitin’ than the Department Store.” 

Ryan’s smile was shameless. “I can believe that. Especially after the most recent report Sullivan’s sent my way from the Fisheries.” 

Frank’s lip curled over his teeth in a gross sneer. The damn cop probably blew everything out of proportion too. The man was known never to mince his words, especially when it came to any sort of retaliation from the fishermen or dock workers on Fontaine’s wharf. However, it couldn’t be dismissed that Sullivan’s become rather persistent in his continued search for the alleged smuggling ring. He’s gotten a little too close for comfort on several occasions. 

“Yeah?” Frank mumbled, his following words dripping with sarcasm to fog the inside of his glass. “Can’t image what he’d possibly say.” 

Ignoring his tone, Ryan continued, “It was an interesting read, surely. Supposedly, he was attempting to question a dock worker of yours about some suspected contraband, that is, until Miss Hartley intervened and demanded that he leave.” 

The smirk was automatic, already hearing the story from both Jane and Peach and still not getting over how forward she was — not taking an ounce of shit from that cop, regardless if his accusations were true. He was still kicking himself for not seeing the whole ordeal in person. 

“While it’s amusing to think back on,” Ryan quirked a brow, acknowledging Frank’s reaction, “I couldn’t help but be curious as to why she was even there in the first place. Which is how I came to find she was made the new co-owner, which is rather exciting.” 

It was exciting and reassuring to Frank that he had made the best decision to have her there instead of at the Futuristics. And it seemed that recently, Ryan was paying less attention to the threat of his Industries being thrown from Rapture’s electrical grid. Granted, it was delaying his and Jane’s own plans, but he’d rather have that than lose everything they had worked for. 

“However, I’m still curious about a little detail I’ve encountered a few times now.” Frank’s attention perked up at the nosy tone in Ryan’s voice. “Hopefully, it’s something you can help me to answer.”

He carefully lowered his glass, yet his grip along it remained tight. “Ok? Shoot.” 

Ryan cleared his throat again. “I was wondering why Jane seems to have multiple last names.” Frank tried keeping his next sharp inhale inconspicuous. “When I found the approved paperwork for her co-ownership, I saw the last name “Carter,” similar to her Rapture entry paperwork, and a name Mr. Poole had brought up some time ago. But I recall you also giving me the last name “Hartley” when I first asked about her. Why is that?” 

Frank searched his thoughts for another white lie to throw Ryan’s way. “Eh, I wouldn’t worry too much ‘bout it. Somethin’ with wantin’ to start a new life down here.” 

“And that involves changing her last name completely?” 

The shrug was automatic as Frank grabbed a cigarette from his suit’s pocket. “Hartley was her mother’s maiden name, I believe. She’s reserved when it comes to her life on the surface.” He fished the lighter out of the opposite pocket. “Even I don’t know everythin’, but I do know she lost her mother when she was young an’ has an estranged relationship with her old man. Can’t blame her for wantin’ to start new.” 

Ryan hummed to himself as he watched Frank light the cigarette, the silver plums of smoke trailing in thin wisps up to the ceiling. “I suppose I’m just curious as to why she didn’t change her name on her entry paperwork instead of after several years of already being down here.” 

“Maybe she didn’t feel so strongly ‘bout her past until recently.” Frank took a drag of the cigarette, letting the ashen taste sit on his tongue before exhaling towards the window. “She was seein’ that Lamb for a bit, talkin’ ‘bout her mother’s passin’ an’ relationship with her father. That’s ‘bout when I gave you her “new” last name, right? She decided then an’ there after her last session with the doc.” 

Another smirk graced his lips as he watched Ryan sit and process everything for a second. It all wasn’t a complete lie, anyway. After hearing the shit her father put her through after her mother’s passing, he wouldn’t blame her for wanting to distance herself from that part of her life on land. Hell, for all he knew, now she could be carrying a last name she wished was hers all along had he stayed on the surface…

“Hmm,” Ryan reached for his wine glass, sounding slightly disappointed that the answer probably wasn’t as unseemly as he expected. “I suppose we all have parts of our past we continue to run from, even as we’re miles away or fathoms beneath the waves; it never feels far enough.” He spoke those last words into the glass, his gaze lifting towards Frank for a second before taking a sip. 

Of course, Frank was no stranger to running, knowing quite well the effort it takes to escape one life for another. For as long as he knew Ryan, he understood there were many things he still didn’t know about the man. He didn’t know all of what he could be running from. 

Ryan suddenly set his glass down, the slight tink against the table's wood jarring them both for a second as he gave an abrupt, beaming smile. “Though, I can’t image all of this being an issue for much longer. Of course, with her taking a completely new last name here soon?” 

Shit, that’s right. “Heh, yeah.” Frank took another drag of the cigarette. “Guess it won’t matter, huh?” 

“Have you two decided on a date?” Ryan sat forward in his seat, his previously solemn mindset brightening. “My offer is still on the table to help with a venue if there’s a ceremony or a reception?”    

Frank’s stomach churned a bit as he forced a smile. He knew he and Jane would eventually have to come up with something once people started asking more about their “wedding.” Yet, he hoped her shift from the Futuristics to the Fisheries would have been enough to distract Rapture and Ryan from everything else, especially this alleged wedding. 

He cleared his throat. “We’ve - um - talked about a few dates. It’s been put on the back-burner recently as Jane’s still gettin’ used to the Fisheries. Don’t wanna overwhelm her with too much.” 

“Nonsense.” Ryan chuckled. “That’s why I’m offering my assistance. Take away a bit of the stress that comes with the planning.” 

Oh, Ryan. You’re too goddamn kind. 

“So, what are the dates you both had in mind? I can postpone a few of my events if they fall on the same day. None of the places on my schedule have locations yet, but I’m sure someplace like Arcadia or Fort Frolic would be suitable. I believe there’s even a formal space in Siren Alley somewhere if that’s what you’d prefer.” 

As Ryan rambled about other potential locations, Frank couldn’t help but wonder what a possible wedding would have looked like on the surface for them if he had never left. Only a few times, he extended the suggestion, of course with no seriousness behind it, only gauging what she’d say and if she would have said yes. While her response was usually coated in sarcasm and disbelief, she’d still talk endlessly about a dream wedding. On the beach at sunset, with very few people in attendance. She would have one sailor she’d become particularly close to step into her father’s place to walk her down the aisle, wearing her mother’s wedding dress she had managed to snag before leaving New York. The reception would be equally as small and close-knit, held at The Siren on a night they’d usually be closed, the entire bar to themselves. While the concept of weddings and married life was far from Frank’s understanding, what Jane usually talked about as a dream ended up, secretly, becoming his own as well. 

But that wedding could have been a reality. This wedding, which Ryan appeared all too thrilled about, was fake. The engagement, the talk of dates and ceremonies, receptions and locations were all a smokescreen, a lie. It was a promise left to rot with the salt-drenched wood at the end of that pier; a promise left shattered on the floor of her old apartment. A promise left lost in the fraying stitching of her mattress as she left in a hurry to catch that last ship to Rapture. A promise left to choke them both, a leash made of iron chains dragging them through the mud of a life almost theirs. 

If anything, Ryan’s offer felt mocking. 

“I could go on and on, but I would recommend Arcadia out of all your options. I’m sure we can find a nice spot with an ocean view for the ceremony and use the Waterfall Grotto for the reception. Of course, it depends on the date and time between then and now.” 

Frank didn’t hesitate to blurt out, “October 18th - is one of the dates we were debatin’.” 

Ryan stopped, his mouth slightly agape. “Oh, October? Well, we’re still a few months out; that’ll give us plenty of time! Should I reserve a space in Arcadia then, for now?” 

He took another drag of the cigarette. “Lemme talk to Jane ‘bout it first, see what she thinks of the space.” 

“Absolutely.” Ryan raised his nearly empty wine glass to Frank, prompting him to pick up his half-empty whiskey. “Well, for the time being, here’s to Jane and her new position, her new start, her new life with her future husband.”

Their glasses clinked as Ryan paused to take a healthy sip, finishing the rest of his wine. Frank held his own glass to his lips, his features falling slightly as he flicked a bit of ash into the tray to his right. 

Oh, if only Ryan knew. 

~*~

He couldn’t sleep, pacing in his office as minutes turned to hours while he wracked his brain. Diane must have gotten tired of coaxing him back to bed as well, having not seen her for an hour or two, and he stopped at the large window behind his desk. Ryan could see most of the city from his perch here, the ocean a vast and quiet shawl that blanketed the erupting buildings, yet he knew life thrived even during the latest hours of the night. 

However, as distracted as he could pretend to be, he still couldn’t get the conversation with Fontaine from earlier that week out of his head. 

Ryan knew Jane’s switch to the Fisheries held more meaning beyond the fact that she just needed a change in her daily life. Fontaine was too methodical for such an important title to be given out and shrugged off when questioned why. It honestly could be as simple as that, but not without considering it happened almost immediately after Ryan threatened to pull his Industries from Jane’s project. All in all, her new position at the Fisheries wasn’t hinging on anything important to Ryan other than the fact that it might cause another roadblock for Sullivan’s smuggling ring investigation. But, she wasn’t in the labs and wasn’t making aggressive movements towards shoving his Industries from the electrical business in Rapture. 

So, why did he still feel threatened? Why did he still feel so on edge, as if his very life was being held out on a rope for him to chase blindly? 

Why did it feel as if Fontaine was hiding something, was using Jane to hide something? 

It could be nothing. It could be nothing, or - or it could be something where he would have nothing to gain or lose if he knew or not. Yet, Ryan trusted his gut instincts more than anything as of late and didn’t hesitate to turn and grab for the phone along the corner of his desk. Dialing the first number that popped into his head, he waited with the phone to his ear and counted each ring before the eventual click.

“Hello? This is Sullivan.” 

Perfect, he was still awake. 

“Sullivan, it’s Andrew. Hopefully, I’m not bothering you.” 

The man’s voice perked up on the other end. “Not at all. I’m still filin’ some paperwork at my office in the Fisheries. Whatdya need?” 

Ryan held his tongue for a second, already second-guessing his subsequent request for the man. But he needed answers, regardless of how he got them. 

“I would like to speak to Miss Jane; however, I know sending out any formal invitation won’t do any good if Fontaine’s peering over her shoulder.” 

Sullivan was silent on the other line, clearing his throat before asking. “So, I’m assumin’ that means you’re askin’ if I were to bring her in to you?” 

“Please, just to my office. She’s not under any sort of arrest; I’m just well aware of how Fontaine likes to be joined at her hip whenever a conversation with myself is involved.” 

“An’ what do you suggest I do?” Sullivan chuckled. “I don’t think she’d react any better if I forced a hand.” 

Ryan hummed to himself, “You’re an intelligent man, Sullivan. I’m sure you have something in your office that could…temporarily disable someone. Just as long as you don’t harm her, I’m sure I’ll never hear the end of it if so.” 

A long sigh vibrated against his ear through the phone, “You owe me if this goes south, Ryan. I don’t need Fontaine on my ass every second of the day after this.” 

If this little interrogation goes well, no one will have to worry about Fontaine, period. 

“Of course, Sullivan. I’ll make it worth your while, don’t worry.” 

With a final confirmation that Sullivan would bring her in the next day, they exchanged goodbyes before hanging up, and Ryan let out a breathy sigh.  

A small voice whispered in the back of his head that this was a terrible idea. Almost pestering him that the easiest way to do this was to invite Jane to dinner and talk things out. So that she could reassure him that her multiple last names were due to an opportunity to escape a past and start life anew in Rapture. And while he was wildly convinced by Fontaine’s story, the whole situation still didn’t sit right with him. 

He had been suspicious of Fontaine for years before this, before Jane, but because he was no immediate threat, Ryan dismissed him. That was, of course, until recently, and it appeared it wasn’t just his businesses on the line. Fontaine has joked, just as Jane had, about what he’d do if he ran Rapture instead—changes he’d make, laws he’d instill, and so on. It was playful banter between them after a few too many drinks months ago. But the words haunted Ryan, implying he’d be missing from the mix and not by any politically fair means. 

Ryan could take the hints; they wanted him gone. It was only a matter of whether Ryan could beat them to the punch, expose his enemy, and relieve Rapture of them for good. 

~*~

The bickering could be heard throughout almost the entire wharf, Sullivan - once again - butting his head into a situation that didn’t concern him. Still, Jane stood tall with arms crossed, two bulky dock workers standing on either side of her as they stared daggers down at the cop. 

“Look, I don’t know how many times I need to tell you, Sullivan, but you cannot go into the freezers while the guys are cleaning the ceiling of any icicles!” She was barely holding onto her composure at this point, and she had already warned him a few times now. “It’s dangerous and could spell trouble for the Fisheries if you were to get knocked on the head with one of those things!” 

And as much as this all was an attempt to keep him from finding the hideout entrance, she honestly knew the consequences if Sullivan were to get hurt in there. Loss of life, especially one of Ryan’s men, would prove more detrimental than the smuggler’s ring being exposed. She didn’t need either on her conscience, anyway. 

“That’s what I was tryin’ to say, Miss Hartley; if one of your guys comes with me into the freezers - “

“I can’t do that.” She interrupted him. “This area is blocked off even to our workers, Sullivan, until further notice.” 

The cop hummed to himself, “Are your men still workin’ on this durin’ the midnight shift? I could go after the dock’s hours.” 

Jane gave a brief side glance to the dockworker to her right, a burly man named John who had taken to being a personal bodyguard ever since Sullivan started hovering around her more than usual. John’s brow raise towards her was subtle. 

“The docks are closed after 9:30, Sullivan, even to you.” She almost sneered. “Only the packaging men are allowed to enter the freezers after closing to make sure no one’s around to tamper with our inventory’s count, you know that.” 

Because all it took was a dockworker from another Pier to come in after hours and steal a case of salmon for his own company to make inventory that day. It was a miracle he didn’t find the hideout entrance, but Frank didn’t hesitate to station a plethora of men throughout the freezers afterward to keep an eye on any suspicious persons. That and talk to the Bounty about setting up official closing hours that could get anyone fired if they were caught snooping around other company’s Piers. Since Sullivan wasn’t an official Fisheries employee, he could be questioned if he was caught in their freezers after hours, regardless of whether he was Ryan’s trained watchdog. 

“I’m aware of the rules.” Sullivan mocked, “But I was also expectin’ you, the co-owner, to be a little more conscious of these allegations.” 

Jane scoffed, “When they become something more than allegations, I’ll consider it.” She watched the man’s mustache quirk with his upper lip. “Until then, I cannot have you enter the freezers. In fact, just get off my wharf, Sullivan.” 

The usual headache was starting to crawl along her temples, every interaction with this man devolving to her constantly telling him to get off the wharf and out of her sight. And with each situation, Sullivan only made it harder and harder as he persisted. The two dockworkers at her sides must have also sensed her exhaustion, John even giving her another side-eye as she cradled the same spot along her temple, where the headaches always bloomed. Both men were quick to step up and escort Sullivan away before the cop was quick to interject. 

“I can’t leave, Miss Hartley, not when it’s fairly obvious the entrance to Fontaine’s smugglin’ ring is in the freezers here an’ you’re usin’ every excuse in the book not to let me investigate. Even when I have permission from Ryan.” 

“I don’t care if Ryan comes down here himself wanting to look!” She couldn’t help the uptick in her tone, hands slapping to her sides before resting along her hips. “You’re not walking into those freezers while my men are working, and that’s final! Just get the hell off my wharf!” 

Her hands started flying as she talked, and the two men at her sides were now on either side of Sullivan. It appeared the cop reached around his side for something, his lip curling in frustration. It took a second for Jane to register what it was before another voice interjected behind them, and all eyes turned to look. 

“She said to get off her wharf, Sullivan.” Frank came strolling up and around the corner towards the entrance of the freezers, posture casual with hands in both pockets, yet his demeanor was still dominant and commanding. They watched him reach into his pocket to retrieve a cigarette, lighting it before adding. “An’ it’d be best to do as she says. Don’t want Ryan reelin’ in his best officer from off the docks, yeah?”

He flicked the lighter shut, Sullivan watching every movement with narrowed eyes, and turned to give one last pointed look towards Jane. Yet, she hoped the expression she met him with was equally as pissed off at seeing the tycoon. 

She wasn’t sure if someone had notified him of her current situation with Sullivan or if he just happened to walk up on them while trying to find her. Either way, she could handle him, and she sure as hell didn’t need Frank to scare the cop off. That’s why he has her here at the Fisheries. 

“You can try as much as you want to stop me. I will find evidence, an’ I will shut this place down. All of it.” 

Still, Jane tried to suppress the smirk as Sullivan turned, his worn boots scuffing along the beaten wood paneling as he threw Frank the same disgusted sneer. They all watched him storm away from the freezers, Jane crossing her arms again as Frank turned with lips parted to utter some witty remark. Until he saw her features narrow, and his jaw clicked shut. 

She locked his gaze with her own as she thanked the two dock workers still hovering by her sides, almost not even waiting for a response before stepping from her place at the freezer’s entrance. The men were smart enough to stay, remembering her request to guard the entrance in case Sullivan were to return. And she almost felt bad for leaving them so hastily, but she didn’t want to spit the venomous words to saturate her tongue not meant for undeserving ears. Instead, she clenched her fists by her sides, swallowing the intense burn to rise from her chest, and breezed by Frank without a word. She only partially hoped he’d follow, but in silence. 

~

The door to the office barely had time to shut before she was turning to spit, “I’m not sure why you’re here, but I could have handled him.” 

However, his features barely showed a hint of concern as he lifted the cigarette from his lips, blowing another plume of smoke toward the ceiling. Frank shrugged his shoulders, “I know.” 

The action only made the blood run white hot in her veins, the headache blooming from dealing with Sullivan intensifying and throbbing behind her eyes. But before she could open her mouth to respond, he beat her to the punch.

“I know you can handle Sullivan, but I also know you probably can’t handle the barrel of a gun starin’ you down.” The brow raise accompanied the ghost of a smirk sitting on his lips. “He was reachin’ for it when I turned the corner. Thought you saw ‘im. The bastard was tryin’ to be subtle ‘bout it.” 

After hearing those words, it felt like someone had dumped an ice bucket on her, never mind Frank's insensitive, nonchalant tone as he removed the cigarette again to study it. All the anger that had been boiling in her chest cooled when she realized that she remembered seeing the cop reach around his waist to grab at something, stopping right as Frank spoke up from behind him. 

“I didn’t see him moving for it.” Jane lied, hating how her voice sounded so small, shaking her head immediately after. “Regardless, even if he had drawn it, it would have only been for intimidation.” 

“Yeah? I wouldn’t put it past ‘im for firin’ it.” Frank started pacing towards her, “Sullivan’s got Ryan’s panic ridin’ his shoulders. I’d bet a pretty penny he’d get trigger-happy if pushed far ‘nough.” 

She doubted it. “You think he’d fire it in the middle of the wharf like that? Regardless if he had Ryan’s influence hanging over him?” 

Instead of stopping before her, Frank rounded to the corner of the desk to prop himself against it. “If you pushed ‘im? Definitely.” 

Jane had turned as he moved, facing him with her arms crossed, and he chuckled before looking over at her. “Honey, you’re clever an’ witty with your words, but I don’t think they would’ve been able to stop a goddamn bullet.” 

Trying to suppress a smirk, she couldn’t help but think of the possibilities of the Telekinesis plasmid that’s become more popular as of late. Hell, if it were good enough to stop a bullet, maybe then she’d consider using ADAM and saying whatever shit she could to Sullivan. Regardless, she didn’t need Frank’s help, didn’t need his influence sauntering through the Fisheries and fighting her battles for her. He put her there for a reason, even if Sullivan had his pistol between her eyes with months of frustration weighing on the trigger. 

She was so tired of being underestimated. 

Jane didn’t respond immediately, instead taking a few steps toward Frank and glancing briefly at his legs before he shifted to widen his stance against the desk. She moved to stand between his knees, a steady hand lifting to take the cigarette from his mouth. Her attention was intense and serrated on him as he watched her place the cigarette between her lips and inhale gradually. Letting the ashen bite sit on her tongue for a few seconds, she leaned in close and exhaled the smoke against his mouth and chin. The sharpened steel of his gaze sent a chill down her spine as she pressed the cigarette back between his lips, skin dry and cracking slightly. 

“I can handle him.” The coy smile was slow to crawl across her face. “Remember why you stuck me here.” 

A huff puffed his chest, removing the cigarette as she remained between his legs, toying with the knot of his tie. “I put you here so we could save your project, Doll. Handlin’ Sullivan just comes with the territory.” 

Jane smirked, “Well then, I guess you just forgot to give me a heads-up about the chance of being followed around by him.” 

She might as well have smacked him with how his features fell. The playful nature of the conversation took a nosedive as she bit the inside of her cheek, already having debated telling him about her little excursions with the cop. At first, she thought it was just a coincidence until he followed her to the Express Station and failed to board when she did. Instead, she kept a wary eye on him from her seat as he was the only one remaining at the station, the sub pulling away with goosebumps riddling her skin at the eerie sight. 

“He’s what?”  

Frank was looking at her head on now as she continued to distract herself with his tie. Clicking her tongue, she shrugged. “He’s just been pushy lately, which isn’t surprising. Peach and a few other dock workers had to stop him from going into the freezers a few times this week. They’ve been using the excuse of removing those icicles, but they can only use it for so long. ” 

“Jane.” 

She’d never heard her name so solemn on his lips, and she finally raised her attention to look him in the eye, startled to see the concern knitting his brows. 

“It’s ok, Frank.” Jane attempted to brush it off, cursing at herself for mentioning it in the first place. “He doesn’t do much when he follows me around. He mostly keeps his distance, like he’s trying to eavesdrop, but I’ve kept my conversations selective.”  

However, her words were doing very little to reassure. “Does Peach know this is happenin’?” 

“He does.” Hesitant fingers slipped from his tie to mess with the button on his jacket, doing anything to avoid looking at him. “Peach was walking me to the station at one point, but it left the freezers open for Sullivan to walk through.” A hummed rattled her chest. “I’d rather have him watch the freezers than accompany me, though, so I asked him to stop.” 

“Jane - “ 

She lifted a finger to press against his lips, silencing him. “It’s fine, I promise. If I felt in any sort of danger, I would have told you much sooner.” She heaved a sigh, “But I can’t keep something like this from you forever, right?” 

He didn’t say anything immediately, instead grabbing for her waist and moving her from between his legs to pace around the window behind the desk. Jane watched him snuff the remains of the cigarette in the ashtray along the corner of the desk, her bottom lip snagging between her teeth as she just hoped he’d trust her word that everything would be ok, that she was ok. 

Cautious, that’s all they had to be now with Sullivan. Yet, she feared Frank’s grudge against the man would be enough for him to take care of the cop himself. 

A breathy sigh broke the silence hanging over them, his shoulders heaving with the action as he slumped against the office window facing her. 

“The second you feel like you’re in danger, you run for Peach or any dock worker nearby.” The gravity in his tone raised goosebumps along her arms. “I can’t take you to the Med Pavilion with a bullet in your shoulder ‘cause you were a little too ballsy with an armed cop.” 

It would certainly be a story for the Tribune, wouldn’t it? 

“Jane Marie?” He called to her, voice stern after most likely noticing the far-away look in her eyes as her thoughts wandered on what that headline would look like. Though, tacking her middle name to the demand for her attention had her eyes suddenly snapping to him. 

“I heard you.” She had to suppress the impending eye roll, clearing her throat to quell the attitude threatening to turn the current situation on its head. “But, I promise, the moment I feel unsafe, I’ll try and find Peach or even John.” 

He barely gave her a second before responding with a definite “Good.” Moving then from his spot at the window to stride towards her. “I have a meetin’ with sales at the department store in an hour; why don’t you come along, take the bathysphere home instead of the Express.” 

She instinctively settled into his touch as a hand reached out to pull at her waist, bringing her side against his front. “That’s ok, you go ahead. I have some paperwork to finish up here for the Bounty’s office.” 

Frank tilted his head to tease a faint kiss along her temple. “You sure? Getcha away from Sullivan for a bit?” 

Lolling her head back a bit to meet his gaze, a slight smirk twisting her lips. “I told you, I can handle him. I can even call for John to walk me to the station later if that makes you feel better.” 

It must have been enough of a suggestion to satisfy him as he leaned in further to capture her lips in a brief but hungry kiss. 

“I guess that works.” He sighed against her cheek before pulling away, adjusting his suit a bit while she smoothed out his tie. 

Walking with him to the front of the office, she even proposed making his and Jack’s favorite dinner tonight, doing anything to solidify that she would be okay with getting home later. She could tell he was initially reluctant to agree, instead preferring if she came with him to this meeting so he’d know she’d be safe. But he just had to trust her, the telltale quirk of his lip giving away the fact that he’d never turn down her cooking. And he agreed with another quick kiss as she shoved him out of the office to start heading to his meeting, a giggle bubbling from her when he managed to grab a handful of her ass before the doors groaned shut behind him. She had a feeling a meal wasn’t the only thing she’d be treating him to tonight to help, anything to help forget their earlier conversation. 

Anything to prove she could handle herself and the poor excuse of a cop hanging around the corner from the office, watching Fontaine leave with a quirk to his lips and a subtle skip to his step. 

Sullivan heaved a breath after shoving himself further into the walls he had wedged himself between, holding still as Fontaine passed and made his way back down to the lower wharf. When he could no longer hear the distinct clack of the tycoon’s Oxfords, Sullivan peered around from his spot to see the doors to the office closed. This was his chance; the doors unlocked with Jane still inside and far enough away from anyone who could help her. And even as his stomach churned at how wrong this all was, this questionable request from Ryan, he couldn’t help but clutch the tranquilizer dart sitting heavy in his slack’s pocket. 

And god, did he hope it would be enough…

~*~

Even as Rapture was fathoms below the waves, it was easy enough to tell when it was morning and night. As the sun rose, the water column would catch each ray and cast it as soft beams of light onto the buildings. Much like waking up to a glare peaking through the half hazardously placed blinds, those who had the luxury of a window in their bedroom in Rapture would experience the same. Time was usually scattered throughout the day, and the clocks riddling the city were the only indicators of how much time had passed. Then, as the sun would set over the waves, the ocean dimmed like a fading bulb until complete darkness swallowed the buildings whole. This was enough for the citizens to live as normally as they did on land. 

However, other than the gurgling of bubbles spewing from each crack and crevice the artificial structures created and the distant calls of whales and dolphins, the city tended to be relatively quiet. Granted, specific areas within the city would always be teeming with life, day in and day out. But if anyone was lucky enough to find residency in the Suites or Heights or any apartment-like luxury complex, they were in their own bubble of peace and solitude. 

Frank appreciated this isolation when he was able to snag one of the few penthouse suites in Rapture when he first came down in ‘48. The complex was always quiet and distant from the neighboring apartments in Mercury Suites. However, as silent as it was at that moment, the first time it’s been in months, Frank found it deafening. 

Bare feet padded against the chilled flooring, pacing the length of the bedroom with his attention occasionally drifting back to the clock on his nightstand. The brilliant blue of the ocean outside the window faded with every passing minute, flooding the space with drifting shadows. And as the firewood popped and crackled in the hearth, the constant muffled gurgling on the other side of the window, each sound grated on his nerves. 

Where the hell was Jane? 

After running almost an hour over his meeting, he had been expecting her to make it home way before him. However, when he walked through the front door, the immediate stillness to greet him was heavy and unsettling. He initially thought she got hung up somewhere with the Express, as the sub was famous for its delays. Yet, Reggie and Jack also took the Express to the Futuristics, and he was hoping to quiz Reggie on if he’d seen Jane at all - better yet, if she happened to return with them. 

What if she was still at the Fisheries? If she had known he was in a meeting, she wouldn’t have been able to tell him she was staying later. 

With that thought, Frank quickly jogged to his office to snag his desk phone. He dialed the number to his office at the Fisheries, holding a shaky inhale as he lifted the phone to his ear. Each ring felt like a lifetime, spaced out by years as he waited. 

The front door groaned open as Reggie and Jack entered the complex. Reggie had been praising the kid on his excellent work at the shooting range, but his jaw swiftly clicked shut as he noticed the odd silence settle over them. Checking his watch, he saw it was almost eight already and was slightly confused not to hear or see both Jane and Frank at first. 

Jack immediately took to his room to change as Reggie split off at the top of the stairs. If anything, he’d know if Frank was home already; he’d likely be in his office. And a small smile tugged on his lip when he saw a figure on the other side of the opaque wall separating the bedroom from the office. 

“Hey, Frank?” Reggie called before he even got through the office door, knowing the walls were thin enough for the man to hear before seeing him. “We’re back.” He stepped through the office door as it opened for him, chuckling. “An’ man, you should have seen the kid. He’s gettin’ to be a pretty damn good shot. Even got some decent bullseyes about a hundred yards out today, too.” 

Not too soon after, Reggie heard the click of the desk phone returning to its receiver, and he stopped in his tracks. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t know you were on the phone.” 

Frank didn’t respond right away, both hands supporting him on the edge of the desk as he heaved a breath. It was odd as he finally straightened himself, running a hand against the back of his neck. 

“It’s ok, Reg.” Reggie’s brows furrowed, noticing the somber tone instantly. “I was just - I was just calling the Fisheries’ office.” 

Something was off. “Your office? What, Jane didn’t answer? She’s stayin’ there kinda late today. Did the Bounty give her shit for late paperwork or somethin’ again?” 

Frank’s following words were strained as if they stung his lips and weighed down his tongue. 

“I don’t know where she is.” 

It took a second for it to sink in, Reggie standing stock-still and watching as Frank’s shoulders tensed a bit. “What? What do you mean you don’t know where she is? Jane’s pretty good with tellin’ you where she’s headin’; how do you not know?” 

“I said I don’t know!!”  

Taking a defensive step back, Reggie threw up his hands. Frank’s chest heaved as he turned to exclaim, his hands balling into tight fists, his knuckles whitening. 

“She was supposed to come home on the Express.” Frank spat again, stormy gray eyes piercing Reggie with a thousand daggers meant to kill, shooting to the ground and then back at him. “But she hasn’t yet, an’ I thought she’d end up meetin’ you an’ the kid on the way, an’ she’d come home with you -”  

It was instinct this time, as Reggie felt the initial fear thaw as quickly as it froze him over. He took a few hesitant steps toward his friend as he interrupted his rambling. “Ok, ok, calm down, man.” Frank’s eyes fell back to the ground, squeezing shut for a moment. Reggie’s rarely seen him this upset about something, this scared. “We didn’t see her, Frank. Do you maybe think she could have gone to the Futuristics last minute for somethin’?” 

Frank lifted his hands to drag heavily over his face, each of his wrists feeling as if they were strapped to a ten-ton weight. “No, no.” He inhaled an unsteady breath. “She said she was probably gonna make it back here before everyone an’ have the time to make dinner an’ whatnot.”  

Interesting. “An’ she was still at the Fisheries when you left?” 

“She was.” He shook his head, “I was there lookin’ for her, wanted to ask if she’d be interested in comin’ along with me to the meeting, leave from there instead. But, I found her arguin’ with Sullivan near the freezers an’ -” 

Frank froze. Ice-cold dread drenched him the moment he remembered seeing Sullivan reaching for his pistol. And while the worst of the worst invaded his thoughts on what could have happened, the panic boiled instantly into a searing rage. 

“Frank?” Reggie was in front of him now, a steady hand reaching out towards him until he snapped his attention up to him, and Reggie stopped with his hand still outstretched. 

 “That fuckin’ son of a bitch! ” Frank hissed, each work spitting poison as he turned to slam his fist against the desk. “God, when I find that fucker - “ 

“Woah, Frank.” Reggie took a brave step, reaching to place his hand on the tycoon’s shoulder before he has a full-on rage-induced meltdown. “Come on, talk to me - an’ what? What happened between her an’ Sullivan?” 

Frank shrugged Reggie’s grip off him, pacing around his office as he gathered a few things. “Jane was tellin’ me that bastard’s been followin’ her ‘round the Fisheries - I swear to god if he - “ 

“He’s been followin’ her?” Reggie felt his heart sink to his stomach. Jane was as much of a friend to him as Frank was, to know now that she’s missing and possibly being a direct result of Sullivan... “You don’t think he - he took her or anythin’?” 

His movements were sporadic as Frank reached into the top right drawer of his desk to grab the pistol lying under the Marine Biology book. He checked to see if the chambers were filled before shoving his way past Reggie toward the bedroom. 

“I’m gonna go lookin’ for her.” 

Reggie followed, calling after him. “Then I’m comin’ too.” 

“No,” Frank grabbed for his shoes, wrestling them on. “You stay here with the kid; let ‘im know everythin’s fine. Give me a few hours an’ if I’m not back with Jane by the early mornin’; you come look for me.” 

Nodding as Frank gave his instructions, Reggie huffed, “Alright. Where are you gonna start searchin’ for her?” 

“I have a hunch.” Frank pulled up the suspenders he had initially hanging by his sides as he slipped the pistol into a back loop in his pants. “I wouldn’t be so generous to give that damn cop all the credit here.” Forgoing any sort of jacket, he was already moving for the bedroom door with wrath driving every step.  

“Just be careful, man,” Reggie called over to him. 

Frank gave him a brief smile and tilt of his head before rushing out the door. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

The pounding in her head stirred her awake, an annoying pain stabbing along her temple as bleary eyes struggled to open. Everything ached from her neck to her legs, and moving just an inch seemed arduous enough. She also noticed a light coming from somewhere as well; after one eye barely managed to open, it was somewhere off to the left in front of her. It took her a second to realize it was a desk lamp, but one she didn’t entirely recognize. Using the minimal light, she craned her neck from left to right, scanning the room as her bearings slowly returned. 

Familiar details started popping up around the space as she squinted into the darker corners, seeing pieces of furniture and unique decorations that had her blood running cold. Panic caused her to jump in the wooden chair, the creaking echoing throughout the space and mixing with metal jingling along her wrists. Her heart started racing as she tugged at her wrists to find she couldn’t move them. The metal of the handcuffs dug into her skin and stung the more she tried to free herself of them as an aching dread settled like a dead weight on her chest. 

She was in Ryan’s office. 

Jane squeezed her eyes shut again, wracking her memory, trying to remember how she even got here. She remembers leaving the Fisheries’ office with an armful of paperwork ready to send off to the Bounty’s head of inventory. She had only made it a few steps from her office when she recalled feeling a slight and sudden twinge along the junction of her neck and shoulder. It happened so fast, too, hands reaching around to catch her when her vision was quick to blur as she fell. Already confused as to what was happening, Jane didn’t even give it a second thought as to who caught her. She assumed she had only fainted, and Peach was there to see her at the last minute and catch her as she fell. 

Still, that didn’t even make sense, considering she was waking up in Ryan’s office handcuffed to a chair. 

The sudden creaking of a floorboard just to her right caught her attention as someone approached her from the dark corner. Immediately on the defensive, all thoughts soured at the sight of the very last person she wished to see. 

Sullivan. 

“You.” Jane spat, voice a bit hoarse and scratchy as he paced quickly towards her with a relatively blank expression. “You son of a -” 

“Quiet.” Sullivan hushed, quick to circle the chair and work at the handcuffs. “Hang onto the cuffs after I undo ‘em; don’t make Ryan aware they’re loose.” 

The clinking of the handcuff’s keys rattled her thoughts, and her brows furrowed. “What? You’re the one who probably did this; just let me go.” 

Her ears perked at the shaky inhale behind her. “I can’t; Ryan needs to see you here. But, he’s on his way, probably armed.” Jane tried to keep up with the words whispered against the collar of her shirt, everything a whirlwind as her heart pounded in her chest. 

“Who’s on his way?” The loosening pressure against her wrists alleviated some anxiety as Sullivan positioned them to where she could hold them instead. 

The cop hushed her again. “I asked Ryan’s guy up front to not disarm him. Just be ready to bolt when he gets here.” 

“Sullivan, what’s happening?” Jane tried to keep her voice low and steady, but her nerves betrayed her as her words slightly shook. “Why are you helping me when you just kidnapped me?” 

Sullivan rounded the chair again, shoving the key back into his slack’s pocket. His expression softened, his brows upturned, and his features drooping. 

“This whole thing is fucked; heard it in Ryan’s voice when he asked me to do this.” Sullivan reached to fix his tie a bit with a glance towards the corner he came from. “Just play along with ‘im. I don’t know what he’s got planned, but you’re not gonna get hurt, I promise.” 

What the hell was happening? 

Before she could even begin to wrap her head around the situation and the millions of questions to bombard her, a second presence sauntered into the space as a few more lights were flipped on. The sudden extra glare forced her eyes closed with a grimace twisting her features. 

“Ah, she’s awake! Thank you for checking on her, Sullivan; I was worried the tranquilizer you used was maybe too much and would put her out for the rest of the night.” 

Ryan’s form was a blur as her eyes adjusted, the confusion probably evident on her face as Sullivan moved to stand a few feet to her right. 

“Now, I hope there weren’t any issues on the way over?” 

He was talking to Sullivan now when her vision finally cleared, watching Ryan light a cigar and take a long and steady puff as the cop answered his question. By the sounds of it, the aching she could feel all over was due to her being set on the floor of Ryan’s bathysphere as Sullivan transported her. Otherwise, she was rather surprised he tried to be as gentle as possible. Still, the enigmatic intention to shadow Ryan’s eyes distracted her from his rather forced, friendly tone. 

Jane cleared her throat as the conversation tapered off between the two men. “You know, Ryan, if you wanted to speak with me about something, all you had to do was ask. Or extend a more formal invitation, even.” 

Ryan’s mustache twitched with the brief upturn of his lip. “Believe me, my dear, my first thought was to send you a proper invitation. But I needed to speak with you alone, and knowing Fontaine, it would have been a stretch.” He took another puff of his cigar. “So, I needed to consider…other means.” 

Never would she have pegged Ryan to be the kidnapping type. 

“Well,” Jane heaved a slightly shaky inhale, “you have me here now. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?” 

The coy smile that twisted Ryan’s face almost made her wish she hadn’t said anything at all. 

Instead of responding immediately, Ryan tapped the end of his cigar into a nearby ashtray on his desk, circling around it to grab for a manila folder atop a pile of Tribune copies. He opened it briefly to study its contents before looking back at her. The silence he made her sit in was deafening, her heart pounding at what possible incriminating piece of information he might have been able to dig up on her - if there really was anything. Jane thought she had managed to keep a clean enough record in Rapture, except for recently. But even so, everything Ryan had managed to capture of her - and paint her as scandalous with - in the Tribune was hardly a red smudge on her reputation. 

“I was simply curious about a now glaring detail I’ve stumbled across a couple of times now. I tried asking Fontaine about it, but he was rather vague in his response.” He closed the folder with eyes boring through her. “I was hoping you could help to clarify things.” 

Her brows knit. “Ok? I can certainly try my best.” 

“Wonderful.” Ryan gave her a crooked grin. “I was wondering why it appears you have two different last names.” 

Jane immediately felt her stomach drop, churning dangerously at his words. 

“Of course, I’m familiar with the name “Hartley” as that’s what Fontaine gave me when I first asked about you. However, I couldn’t help but stumble across another last name - “Carter,” of which is on your Rapture entry paperwork, the name Mr. Poole had given me when he interviewed you for your starting article way back when, and on the confirmation paperwork for your co-ownership of the Fisheries.” 

And Frank didn’t tell her this conversation was brought up recently with Ryan?! 

“I was just curious as to where the second last name had come from, as it hardly seemed necessary for Fontaine to give me.” 

Her thoughts tangled as Ryan looked at her with the ghost of a smirk lining his features, almost predatory, as if he dared her to lie to him. 

The panic bubbled in her chest as a small chuckle slipped past her lips. “Oh, that’s a bit ridiculous. What did Fontaine tell you?” 

He started all of this in the first place. 

Ryan clicked his tongue. “He mentioned something regarding your late mother, that Hartley was her maiden name you had taken up as a means to escape your past from the surface. That you had only decided to change the name recently after a few sessions with Dr. Lamb.” 

Ok, not bad. She can work with that. 

Jane straightened her spine, carefully gripping the cuffs tight in her palms to avoid slipping. She had also noticed Sullivan to remain in his position off to the side, his expression blank but hearing everything. 

“I mean, he’s told you enough. I couldn’t add anything to that explaining of why I seem to have two last names. “ She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “My sessions with Dr. Lamb were eye-opening enough that I needed to move on from my past. And what better way than to leave behind my father’s name and honor my mother’s.” 

A breathless scoff puffed Ryan’s chest as he nodded slowly, picking up another folder but not opening it. 

“A convincing story, I must say. A very touching one as well if it wasn’t for the fact that Hartley is not your mother’s maiden name.” 

Honestly, she shouldn’t be surprised; she knew it wasn’t. It was the fact that Ryan somehow knew it wasn’t, that he had done the amount of research it probably took to find that out. 

And that frightened her more than anything. 

“Wha - how did you -” 

“It took a bit of digging, but I wasn’t impressed by Fontaine’s story. It all seemed too…convenient to me. So, while I was given your records after Fontaine applied for your co-ownership, I had to access the archives and rummage through the citizen history paperwork surrounding your family. Finding a few papers there regarding your parents was tedious but most certainly rewarding.” That’s what was in the folder…

It must have been comical, the way the color looked draining from her face, if Ryan’s gross smirk was anything to go by. 

“I suppose that begs the question, where did the name Hartley come from, hmm? Fontaine was fairly quick to give it to me when I had first asked about you.” 

She couldn’t find the words to respond, watching Ryan open the second folder he had selected to rifle through it, picking up photos and trimmed articles from what she could gather at her distance. 

“Fontaine also made me aware you two knew each other on the surface. Did you know a Hartley as well?” 

“No.” Jane managed to state firmly. 

“Did Fontaine know a Hartley?” 

It took a second or two longer to respond. The next “No.” was still confident, but the slight hesitation to shake her voice gave away the lack of conviction. 

She was met with another brow raise as she groaned inwardly but did all she could to keep a straight face. “As far as I'm aware, he didn’t know a Hartley. But I wouldn’t put it past him if the name came up during a business venture.” 

Still, why did he care? It was a topic to be dangerously curious about. Granted, following any paper trail back from Fontaine to Frank’s original name would be difficult enough. What was Ryan hoping to find in the maze that was Frank’s life on the surface? A motive? A weakness? A way to convict him of disloyalty to Rapture and Ryan himself? It was lunacy. However, such nonsense can be the most dangerous. 

Ryan kept his attention on her as she spoke, his features set as if he had been trying to convince himself before this interaction not to believe a word she’d say. She noticed a precarious shadow almost immediately shrouding the man’s presence when he first walked in, and she was concerned about what he had up his sleeve if she didn’t cooperate with him and his questions. 

No better time to pose some of her own. 

“Why are you concerned about this, Mr. Ryan?” Jane started, clearing her throat a bit to suppress the nerves. “What are you trying to gain in questioning me about a fake last name Fontaine happened to have given you? As far as I know, he was trying to protect my privacy then. That’s it.” 

There was a hefty pause to settle over them, Sullivan even shifting awkwardly next to her as if he wanted to understand the same thing. Ryan quickly glanced at the cop, straightening himself over his desk to flick more ashes from the cigar into the ashtray. 

“I am concerned about this as it seems like Fontaine is hiding something, using you to hide something, whether you’re aware or not.” He placed the cigar along his lips, inhaling deeply before puffing the smoke into the air above them. “If it’s a grand scheme, a damning plan, whatever it may be, the matter lies in how far Fontaine is preparing to go to ensure Rapture is his. Something I can absolutely not allow to happen.” 

Paranoid. The man reeked of it. 

Jane gripped the metal of the cuffs as Ryan paced out and around his desk towards her, goosebumps erupting along her arms as he hovered close. Tilting back further in the chair, the wood groaned under the shift in weight, and she held her breath for a second. 

Ryan dragged his gaze along her face, trying to discern whatever break in her resolve he could. “You will tell me what Fontaine’s plan is. Even if I must use any sort of…coercion.” His attention flipped up towards Sullivan beside her, a small but wicked smile lining his features. 

From her peripherals, she watched Sullivan take a step towards the man with an earnest “Mr. Ryan —" before he was cut off as Ryan lifted a hand to stop him. 

“Now’s not the time to be a hero, Sullivan. Not after we very clearly discussed the means of this interrogation and if Miss Carter decided to be difficult in answering my questions.” 

Sullivan stepped back, his grip hovering close to the pistol along his side. He glanced briefly at her, his features lined with unmistakable concern. Ryan had turned to pace around his desk, humming to himself as he opened a drawer to his left to start sifting through it. 

Jane swallowed the knot of anticipation, thinking of every possible method Ryan would dare to use against her to spill whatever grueling detail of Fontaine’s plan. Surely, the man was above torture. Jane couldn’t even imagine Ryan allowing the use of Electrobolt or a similar plasmid on her to extract information. She wasn’t even certain Sullivan used ADAM, knowing the cop liked to use the old-fashioned, practical methods when interrogating and condemning someone. Before Ryan entered the room, he even promised her she wouldn’t get hurt. If anything, she knew he was a man of his word. 

Jane was expecting any sort of weapon to be pulled from that drawer; she never would have anticipated Ryan pulling out a packet of paper clipped neatly together. The subtle smirk on his face, however, would have made it seem as if he had pulled a pistol on her. All the more confused about his intentions, she tried to allow the panic to slip from her shoulders. 

“Do you know what this is, Miss Carter?” 

Her real last name sounded so rotten against his lips as she shrugged. “I do not.” 

Ryan rounded his desk again with the packet, flipping through the first couple of pages as she watched his eyes skim each word. 

“This is the contract concerning your project and the Industries’ involvement.” 

Oh. Jane felt her heart sink to her stomach, her chest immediately aching. 

“All it would take is one signature to unravel everything of yours, my dear. Every month, every hour, every minute spent working on your precious Elixir solution, every conversation about using an Industries’ energy system, every hopeful night you’ve spent dreaming of success. I can undo all of it right now. ” 

He wouldn’t do it; he couldn’t. Revenue lost with the Futuristics would be lost with the Industries; she did that on purpose. 

“You can’t do this.” Jane managed to choke out past the welling in her throat. “If I lose this, then the Industries lose everything as well. The Elixir is the Futuristics’ property.” 

Ryan chuckled, the sound deep and ominous. “Not if I take it.” 

Her mouth fell open a bit as she stuttered through her protest. Ryan eventually held his hand up to her as he did with Sullivan. 

“Now, Miss Cater, we both know the only way to prevent this unfortunate situation is for you to simply tell me what Fontaine’s plan is. Easy enough, yes?” 

Easy for him to say, at least. While Jane only knew Frank’s plan to an extent, the information she was aware of could be enough to satisfy Ryan - if he’d push her enough for it. This was a low blow, to begin with, Ryan using her project against her as if he hadn’t already been doing that over the past few months. And she and Frank had done all they could to save it by getting her out of the labs and removing the threat. Yet, here he was, still hanging her success above her head like a guillotine, a firm hand on the rope ready to let it drop and sever everything. 

She couldn’t let that happen. But she’s be damned if she betrayed Frank. 

“You’re not getting a word from me, Ryan.” She spat. “No matter what means you use, what weak threats you throw at me.” Jane sat up in the chair, fingers gripping the handcuffs tight even as her palms started to sweat. “You stop my project; the Industries will be paying a hefty price.” 

Ryan had set the packet on his desk, a pen already in his opposite hand as he rolled it between his fingers. The gross impression of a twisted smile never left his features as he looked at her with such soured pity. 

“That’s a risk I will be pursuing, my dear. Especially when the alternative is my demise.” 

Watching him take the pen to the paper almost made her wish he had Sullivan use the Electrobolt plasmid on her. Yet, before he could begin to write out his name, an odd commotion started behind her just outside Ryan’s office door. There was some muffled yelling as the glass door rattled open. Stanley’s voice was unmistakable, and then he called to Ryan to say that he was sorry about something. Jane turned to see what the hell was happening. 

She saw the reporter first, both hands raised and Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. A few steps behind him was Frank with a gun in his hand, arm outstretched and pointed at the back of Stanley’s head. 

“Ah, Fontaine, right on time, I’d say,” Ryan spoke up nonchalantly from behind his desk. 

Never has she seen so much rage, so much disdain barely being concealed behind a stoic mask. Frank’s white-knuckled grip on the pistol told her he wasn’t here to shoot the shit with Ryan, pissed beyond anything she’s ever seen from Fontaine’s character. 

“I - I’m sorry, sir - we tried to disarm him out front.” Stanley started stammering and flinched hard as Frank nudged the back of the reporter's head with the barrel to move them toward Ryan. 

“That’s quite alright, Mr. Poole. I’m familiar enough with Fontaine to trust he wouldn’t do anything he’d regret.” 

Their eyes locked, and the clicking of the barrel engaging was unmistakable as it echoed throughout the office. Jane noticed that Frank’s arm had shifted slightly to the right, the pistol now aimed at Ryan. 

The sudden rustling to her right and a low clicking had her blood running cold, freezing her over entirely as a careful twist of her head saw her staring down the barrel of Sullivan’s own pistol. 

Her chest constricted as each breath felt like she was gulping for air, heart hammering so loud it pulsed in her ears as wide eyes raised to him to mouth a gasped, “Don’t” at Sullivan. 

The concern he had been wearing during the entire ordeal hadn’t dissolved just yet, and he whispered an equally soft “I won’t” to reassure her. 

It was a show for Ryan; Sullivan promised her she wouldn’t get hurt. She had to trust him. 

Suddenly, Frank spoke lowly, “I typically don’t regret much.” The snarl that followed raised goosebumps along her arms. “You, of all people, would know that, Ryan.” 

Ryan appeared the calmest out of everyone else in his office. The tension rolled off his shoulders as he took another drag of the cigar he had been balancing in his grip and snuffed it out in the ashtray. He stayed in his position behind the desk, dropping the pen at some point as well as his posture remained lax, hands searching to rest in his pockets. 

“You say that as if I know plenty about you; however, there’s apparently more to you than meets the eye.” The brief glance Ryan shot in her direction had her skin crawling. 

“I’m not here to have a fuckin’ conversation with you.” Frank sneered, his attention focused on Ryan as his grip on the pistol never faltered. “You’re gonna give me Jane, an’ we’ll walk outta here without someone’s brains gettin’ blown out.” 

Somehow, Ryan could still chuckle softly at such a remark, pacing out from behind his desk and towards Frank with his posture still relaxed. 

“That would be unnecessary. I was actually just about to sign away Miss Carter’s project in exchange for information regarding your grand scheme.” 

Frank didn’t even hesitate, the pistol still tight in his grip. “You put a pen to that paper; you put a target on your back.” 

A subtle twitch of Ryan’s eye gave way to a slowly dissolving mask as he stepped closer to Frank. His hand reached to brush aside the barrel of the gun, attention sharp on the tycoon. 

“I will not wage a war over petty indifferences in business, Fontaine.” 

Frank’s lip curled over his teeth, “You already did when you kidnapped her an’ put a gun to her head.” A quick glance in her direction for the first time he’s arrived proved his point with Sullivan’s gun on her temple. 

Ryan’s attention had followed with a brow raise, “If you would have just told the truth, I wouldn’t have gone looking for it myself.” 

Frank’s finger twitched against the trigger, his gaze narrowed and sharp, already planting a bullet between Ryan’s eyes. 

“Then I would advise you to be cautious with your curiosity.” Frank’s voice dropped with a rumbling warning. “Or else the next time you pull this shit, I won’t hesitate with the trigger.” 

The chuckle was mocking, Ryan tilting his head just slightly. “Duly noted.” 

Ryan glanced back towards Sullivan with a nod, prompting him to place a firm hand on Jane’s shoulder to help her from the chair. Standing for the first time in what felt like hours, Jane felt her knees buckle instantly and shot a hand back to grab Sullivan’s as he went through the motions of pretending to unlock the cuffs. He was quick to help steady her, his grip tight but gentle on her arm until she found her footing, and he walked her towards the two men. Frank kept a vigilant eye on the cop, swift to grab for her when she was close enough and bring her to his side. It was only then that he finally lowered the pistol, his fingers like claws digging into the sleeve of her blouse. 

Not wasting another second in that office, Frank turned them away and rushed for the door. Jane could barely keep up with him and his longer strides as he kept her close, everything still a whirlwind and making her incredibly dizzy. The twisting hallways leading from Ryan’s office were all a blur, her heart hammering in her chest as she tried to keep her breathing steady. She couldn’t get a read on Frank either, already knowing a white-hot fury had to be boiling in his veins. But the rest of him was stoic, each step towards the bathysphere controlled yet hurried. Not a word was uttered to her, but his silence weighed heavier than anything he could say at that moment. 

It was an incredibly rare sight, even to her, seeing Frank so fucking scared. 

And while she didn’t see the immediate threat of being in Ryan’s office like that, especially since knowing Sullivan was there to protect her. Seeing Frank as shaken as he was now was like a punch to her gut, finding herself just as terrified of what could possibly happen after this whole ordeal. All she knew at the moment was that the trip back to the complex was going to be a long one. 

~

Frank hadn’t said a word to her on the way back, the silence suffocating in the limited space of the bathysphere as each minute had dragged on. Words weren’t even exchanged as they docked and walked through the front door of the complex; Reggie already waiting for them in the foyer. 

The reality of the situation became more apparent as Reggie's look of incredible relief washed over him once he spotted her trailing in after Frank. He raced over to pull her into an immediate hug, the musky scent of his cologne filling her nose and warming her chest. She also threw her arms around him, giving him an extra squeeze to reassure him she was okay and unharmed. 

Just behind Reggie, when he pulled away, she also saw Jack pacing quickly down the steps. The second he saw her, he raced from the bottom steps to throw himself in her arms. Jane couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling as if she was hugging Frank now since the kid had gone through another significant growth spurt. Still, the choked-back whimper to rattle from his throat reminded her that he was still just a kid and had every right to be scared for her - this woman he saw as a mother.

“I’m ok, Jack.” She whispered to him, reaching a hand up to brush the bangs from his eyes as they pulled away. The threat of tears brimming along his lower lid threatened a welling of her own. “Everything’s ok, I promise.” 

After giving Jack one last hug, Reggie offered her to reheat some of the leftovers from the previous couple of nights, knowing no one had eaten that evening. A mutual agreement was made, and Reggie ushered Jack towards the kitchen to help. The kid went reluctantly at first, but both knew Jane needed a moment with Frank as they traversed up the opposite end of the stairs to the bedroom. And while Frank had remained relatively quiet when they returned, she knew he was holding something back for the privacy of their space. 

Once in the bedroom, Jane made a beeline towards her dresser, feeling so incredibly grimy in her blouse and pencil skirt ensemble that she was certain she caught Ryan oogling at now and then. She fished for a nightgown and grabbed a robe from the closet, changing quickly enough that one would think her clothes were on fire. 

“Did he do anythin’ to you?” 

The rumble of his voice snagged her attention, her head whipping back to see him leaning against the bed, watching her with arms crossed. His features remained neutral, almost blank if it wasn’t for the deep concern to soften his eyes. It was then she also noticed his own attire, surprised to see he had gone out into Rapture without any part of his signature ensemble. She can only begin to imagine the panic he must have been in once realizing she wasn’t on her way back to the complex that evening. 

“He didn’t.” She slipped on her nightgown and tossed her clothes into the nearby laundry basket. “Just threatened me with the project, but I promise he didn’t lay a finger on me.” 

“Sullivan didn’t hurt you?” 

The cop’s name cracked slightly as it struggled to form on his tongue, and she shook her head. “No.”

However, the word barely seemed to have registered. “Not very convincin’ when the guy had a gun to your head.” 

“It was for show.” She was quick to add. “He told me he wasn’t going to hurt me.” 

The scoff puffed past his lips as Frank rolled his eyes, standing from the bed to pace towards his office. 

“Frank, I swear, Sullivan had reassured me I wouldn’t get hurt.” 

“Yeah?” He turned towards her, his features fracturing slightly as his voice raised. “Right after that fucker kidnapped you?!” 

She wasn’t sure why she felt so defensive of the cop all of a sudden, but Frank needed to understand she wasn’t in any danger, for his sake. 

“He told me it was wrong.” Jane tried to keep her voice leveled, finding her resolve slipping just as fast. “Sullivan came into that office before Ryan to uncuff me, telling me something was off when Ryan asked him to kidnap me and didn’t want me to get hurt.” 

Still, her words seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

“If he thought somethin’ was wrong, then that’s a pretty damn good excuse to just not fuckin’ kidnap you!” 

“I had no power in the situation, Frank!” Jane couldn’t hold herself back anymore. “Ryan’s becoming more and more unhinged, more and more blinded by his own paranoia to the point where he’ll do anything to stop us.” She watched him roll his eyes again, pacing in circles now in front of his office door. “Threatening me with shutting down my entire project was soft for him. But I wouldn’t put it past him to do something more extreme. He wants you dead, Frank.” 

She didn’t mean for the last sentence to slip as easily as it did, but it was a concern she knew they both had for the last couple of months. Both men wanted to see each other six feet under; the only solution in their eyes. But, they both knew better and have been playing an intricate game of cat and mouse for who knows how long instead. It was only a matter of who would break first. 

Frank had stopped pacing, standing in front of the fireplace with attention watching the flames lick at the logs just starting to burn through and crumble. She could practically see the gears turning in his head, the initial shock of the situation wearing off, but something still sat beneath his features. Revenge would be a strong assumption; Frank wouldn’t stoop to such a low level over something like a kidnapping. But something was formulating regardless, and she’d leave him to his thoughts instead of allowing this conversation between them to blow up any further. 

Doing just that, Jane gave him a last pointed look before taking a deep breath and heading towards the bedroom door without another word from him. She’d see how far Reggie and Jack got with those leftovers and check back with Frank later. They all needed the pause anyway. 

~*~

The three of them ate alone, Frank staying upstairs and moving to his office at some point as Jane returned to the bedroom to check on him. Instead of pushing him to eat with them and potentially stirring up another right, she let him be in his space. 

Their meals weren’t special, each eating leftovers from different dinners, but the warmth from the stew she had made yesterday was comforting enough. Everything still ached from being transported on the floor of Ryan’s bathysphere and sitting in that wooden chair for who knows how long. Reggie must have also noticed her discomfort shifting around on the solid dining chair. After he helped gather the dishes, he also brought out a hot towel for her neck and shoulders as she moved to the couches just outside the dining area. 

Jane always wondered how such a sweet and considerate man came to know Frank. Reggie even stayed with her, sitting on the opposite couch facing her to ask if she needed anything else. 

“I’m ok, Reggie, thank you.” She could only respond with a tired smile. 

 “Of course.” He gave her a small nod. “Man, I don’t need to know what happened, but I’m just glad you two are safe.” 

“You and me both.” Jane huffed a weak chuckle. “I guess Sullivan tried to be gentle while taking me to Ryan, but if it’s helpful, I wouldn’t recommend laying on the floor of a bathysphere for any period of time.” 

That at least garnered a laugh from him. “Good to know.” The jovial lift to his features didn’t last long, however, “It still rubs me the wrong way what Ryan did. I mean, kidnappin’ you? That’s a stretch, even for him.” 

“It is. He’s scared.” She shrugged. “He almost signed away my project; hadn’t Frank come in when he did. I’ve never seen him that shaken up before either. He hid it well for Ryan.” 

Reggie smirked. “You should have seen ‘im before he went lookin’ for you. I was sure I’d hear ‘bout him in the Tribune goin’ into Ryan’s office an’ takin’ care of ‘im on the spot.” 

He almost did.  

Yet, she was sure Frank wouldn’t have stopped for anyone or anything on his way to find her. It was a bit overkill to bring his pistol as a means of intimidation, as she was unharmed to begin with. At the same time, it clearly indicated to Ryan that he had messed up badly with his actions. Frank wasn’t there to threaten war; he was there to wage it and demand the first move be his. 

Knowing the basic details of his current dormant plan, she felt a sour dread sink to her stomach. At this point, they didn’t have a choice. He’d have to put it into motion now unless she could convince him otherwise, convince him to wait just a bit longer. She could get back into the Futuristics, could take over Rapture’s electrical industry, and shut Ryan out for good. They just needed time. 

Reggie, fortunately, didn’t push the conversation any further. It had been a long night for everyone, and he got up from the adjacent couch, asking if she needed anything else again before he left for the night. Knowing he and Jack had already taken care of the dishes from their meal, she didn’t want to keep him any longer, knowing Reggie deserved the break after the chaos that ensued earlier. Instead, she gave him a small smile and only requested that he go home and rest. He took it without hesitation and gave her a grateful smile before leaving her to sit with her thoughts for a second. 

Something was nagging at her to go and talk to Frank after he’d had some time to calm down. Yet, she knew the exact conversation that had the potential of surfacing and knew in her heart that she wasn’t ready to face that reality yet. It was inevitable at this point, but she had to convince herself that sitting here as she was wouldn’t stop the impending future. She had to try to at least suggest any alternative, anything to ensure they all make it out in the end. 

Standing on wobbly legs, Jane shuffled to the kitchen to make them both a cup of coffee. Her eyes squinted at the small clock above the stove for a second before registering that it was almost one in the morning, and she groaned. They had to stop pulling these all-nighters. Granted, Peach and the guys at the wharf didn’t care when she came in, but it was never like her to sleep in and arrive at a job as late as she’s been recently. And, of course, the coffee wouldn’t help, but she needed a peace offering and something warm for her hands. 

Grabbing both mugs, she eventually made the trek back up to the bedroom and his office. Jane drug her feet a bit, giving her thoughts a second chance to change to her just giving him his coffee as she’d head to bed. That’s probably all he was expecting from her as well, given how shaken he’d assume her to be still. Ultimately, her curiosity got the best of her, and she gently knocked on his door before it slid open for her. 

Whatever she was expecting to see in his office, the scene that greeted her surly wasn’t it. Frank sat at his desk, hands cradling his head and eyes glazing over among the piles of paper strewn about. The dull noise of her feet padding across each creaky floorboard shifted his attention to her, the exhaustion evident and pulling at his features. He sat up a bit once noticing the pair of mugs in her hand. 

“Jane,” Frank cleared his throat. “I thought you had gone to bed.” 

She shook her head slowly, extending one of the mugs towards him to take. “I don’t think I will be anytime soon, unfortunately.” Oh, how she wished she was lying. 

He took the mug with a little hesitation, lifting it to his lips but forgoing taking a sip as she then turned to leave the office. Frank must have sensed something was wrong, setting the mug on his desk and calling for her before she could reach the door. 

“I’m sorry for yellin’ earlier,” Jane lifted a hand to clutch at her robe, her eyes squeezing shut to keep them from welling with tears at his apology. “C’mere, honey.” His voice dipped, so soft and careful, as she gradually turned to him. 

A hand was stretched out, waiting for her to take it, and she shuffled over to set her mug down next to his on the desk. Placing her hand in his, he pulled her closer to sit on his lap, both arms winding around her in a tight embrace. She couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, feeling one after the other start to streak down her face as she turned into his chest to sob quietly into his shirt. 

She wasn’t sure where these overwhelming emotions were coming from. She knew she was as safe as Sullivan could promise her back in Ryan’s office. Knew she was only being threatened with the downfall of her project and everything she had worked towards. Knew the barrel of a gun was staring her down, but had faith in the man holding it. 

Yet it felt as if this moment was an accumulation of everything. 

From when she had first stepped off that sub with the grand decor of Rapture’s Welcome Center greeting her to now, her Frank holding her so tight to where it seemed if he’d let go, he’d be afraid she’d disappear. 

From her job at the Fishbowl, meeting Ann, living in the Drop, to her first day as a secretary of the Futuristics’ front lobby and meeting Fontaine for the first time in person. 

From her promotion to her eviction and invitation to stay with the tycoon. 

After all the interviews, the arguments with Ann, the galas, and the streams of flashing lights shadowing her. 

After the scandals, the surfacing truths, the white lies, and the incredible success of her Elixir project, this moment held everything. 

Everything she was proud of, everything she regretted, the only thing keeping her sane was the man she thought she had lost all those years ago, never to be seen again. 

And she let herself cry. She let herself give in, eyes squeezing tighter with a sob to choke her after peeking at the papers littering his desk before she took his hand. Those two little words she had hoped not to see, staring her down from a folder to the right on his desk. Two little words that he promised were a new chapter, a new start, a chance for them to take the city for their own. 

Project Atlas. 

And she found herself only sobbing harder as a dangerous mix of thoughts flooded her on what was to come. 

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

The glinting of scales from a passing school of fish flickered in the sea-green haze filtering into the bedroom. Tired eyes saw the slivers of light before they opened, and even if the water outside their windows was freezing, the warm glow emanating from the peaceful sight bloomed from her chest to her toes. A sudden yawn stretched her jaw as she shifted her legs from their curled position. Her feet brushed against the fuzzy flannel fabric of a pant leg behind her, prompting the arm wrapped around her waist to tighten and tug her closer. A muffled groan rumbled from the solid form molded along her back. His breath was warm, dripping down the slope of her neck, and she reveled in his embrace for a moment. 

She held her breath; the stillness settling around them felt fragile enough to be shattered by the slightest whisper. Last night, they hadn’t gone to bed with enough resolve to help ease her mind, each whirring thought. The situation was still left hanging above them on a fraying rope as he prioritized her over the mess of papers on his desk. Once she had calmed down enough to answer his yes or no questions, he lifted her from where she was tucked on his lap as they finally settled in for the night. She had clung to him so hard until sleep dragged her away from the harshness of reality, feeding her deranged scenarios on how the previous evening could have gone worse. 

Waking up now, she was only glad those situations had been nightmares, a stark contrast to the benevolent embrace of the morning light. 

It was a peace she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Exhaling long and deep, her shoulders sagging with the motion, she started turning slowly, hoping her movement wouldn’t wake him behind her. Facing him now, watching as the sleep still weighed heavily along his features, she kept each breath shallow and her touches light. Jane leaned forward to nuzzle her nose against his, her lips resting on his cheek in a prolonged good-morning kiss. The arm still slung around her waist dipped to settle on her lower back, slowly pulling her closer as her hands found purchase along his chest. She lightly dragged her lips to brush against his in silent permission, and the slight hitch of his breath encouraged her to gently kiss the corner of his mouth. Fingers lifted to scrawl feather-light patterns in the bare skin near his collarbone as his palm started a lazy path against her spine, trailing upward and occasionally catching on the fabric of her nightgown. 

Moments like this sparked her memory and drenched her in an aching and painful yearning. Many times, they found themselves in the same position on the surface. Of course, her bed was much smaller, but it sat perfectly between two windows, allowing the rising sun to bathe them in light. She would do anything to drag those mornings out, using every excuse in the book to convince him to stay right there with her. Usually, their combined growling stomachs would finally persuade them to leave the confines of her multiple blankets and comforter. But even as she’d be at the stove making a batch of scrambled eggs, he’d still wedge his way within the minuscule space between her and the kitchen island with arms around her waist. Very few words would be spoken with light touches as communication and sleep still looming heavily over them, but those moments were always just perfect. 

His lips were suddenly against her forehead, kissing along where her brows were creased in thought, not realizing they were consuming her. Cobalt eyes sought her own, an intense sorrow only twisting the knife deeper into her soul. Fear, distress, anguish, all overflowing from those eyes. From a man who knew how to keep everything sealed away, practicing such privacy his entire life, fastening a lock on his emotions that only he had the key to open. Yet, last night must have been just enough, shaking him to where that tightly concealed distress started seeping through. And while his resolve might not shatter completely, she knew him to be stubborn enough; worry still plagued him and was reflected in those eyes. She’d be a fool to dismiss it. 

One of her hands searched for his own unoccupied palm tucked under his pillow, fingers crawling to join with his and give a squeeze in reassurance. The motion was subtle, the corner of his lips quirking and his features relaxing, but it was all she needed to know her gesture was received. After a few seconds, however, he lifted their hands from beneath the pillow to kiss the slightly cracked, dry skin along her knuckles. The faint tickle from his mustache caused a giggle to bubble from her chest, but the calculated movement to her wrist raised her brow once he lowered their hands beneath the comforter. 

There was little space between them, yet he could still easily maneuver her hand and had her palm finally brushing against the hem of his flannel pajama pants. Her fingers flexed into the heat just beneath the fabric, and with a breathless laugh, she eagerly palmed his length before he could even release her wrist. The following healthy squeeze from her fingers elicited a groan from deep within his chest, his cock hard and hot even beneath two layers of fabric, and a warmth that had been lingering in her abdomen pooled heavily in her pelvis. 

Another giggle puffed along his cheek as she nuzzled against his nose again, stroking slowly upward with her palm, causing his fingers to clasp tight around her wrist. He took no time to help her hand slip under the waistband of his flannel pants, her brow quirking again once she realized he actually wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Still, her fingers reached and stretched for him, wiggling completely from his grasp to wrap around the head of his cock, giving another tantalizingly slow stroke down towards the base and back up. A hum vibrated from him, low and guttural, as she placed a tender kiss on the tip of his nose. 

Her lips parted then to say something, but the words stopped short once noticing the crease of his brow as his eyes squeezed shut, panting slightly with her hand’s unhurried motions. The smile to tilt her features was one of incredible endearment, and her opposite hand lifted to cradle his jaw. 

“Frank.” His name was barely a breath, pleading for his attention, and those striking eyes fluttered open to meet hers. 

Completely at her mercy, there was a desperation to riddle his features, a need to forget everything that had happened over the last 24 hours. And she was inclined to provide what distraction he might need, that they both might need, even if it’s for a few moments. 

With the next stroke of her palm, she tilted her wrist to bring the front of his pants down as well, freeing him as he inhaled sharply. His gaze was piercing as she held it steadily with her own, keeping a slow and careful pace, stroking him from base to tip and feeling every vein pulsing within her grasp. Beads of precum gathered along his head as she reached to swipe it with her thumb; the motions slick and wet while she had to restrain herself from slipping under the covers to get a taste. 

Only a few minutes later did she feel the hand gripping her hip drag across her nightgown. There was barely any restraint as he bunched up the fabric to allow easy access for his palm to descend to the hem of her own underwear. Her lashes fluttered for a beat as he teased the lace a bit, letting it gingerly snap against her pelvis before sliding his hand past the band and down her front. His fingers teased her folds equally as much before dipping and dragging his middle finger against her core. He painted the inside of her thigh with her own wetness before going straight to two fingers, entering and curling against that nerve-rich wall instantly. 

A breathless gasp shifted the air between them; his stuttering exhales warm along her lips as they hovered close but never sealing the gap completely. Focusing on two things at once was starting to muddle her concentration as well, doing everything to keep her strokes slow and even, Frank attempting the same. However, each brush of his fingers along her walls had an intentional added pressure that was slowly driving her mad. And the second his thumb was included in the mix, rolling slowly over her clit, Jane knew she wasn’t going to last long like this. 

A pitiful whine tumbled from her lips, words attempting to form a coherent thought but failing in every way except for his name. Each syllable was whispered but carried a hefty weight as she ground her hips into his palm, eyes sliding shut for a beat and fingers stilling around his base. He kept his movements shallow, her name a whisper on his lips, a beacon dragging her back from the edge. With lashes fluttering open, she was almost surprised to see nothing but fondness reflected along his features, and he carefully removed his fingers from her. 

She would have argued with him too if he wasn’t quick to brush a palm against her nightgown, lifting it and immediately reaching behind her knee to drape her leg over his hip. His skin was sweltering against her own, pulling her closer with a hushed command warm along her cheek. 

“Guide me in.” 

Her heart fluttered at his words, using her free hand to reach and pull aside the fabric of her underwear before guiding the tip of his cock toward her entrance. With a tilt of his hips, he slid in with dangerous ease that had her sucking in a breath, her forehead leaning to rest against his own the moment their hips slotted together. She almost expected him to move right away; instead, the seconds ticked by as his hand carved a path up her thigh and back toward her knee. The heat was almost unbearable, settling in her pelvis, feeling every muscle stretch, shake, and pulse as he cooed her name again. 

She hadn’t realized she’d been panting. 

Jane finally reached a hand to slide along the front of his cotton undershirt, fingers curling around the back of his neck to pull him into a hungry kiss. Frank’s grip tightened along her knee, tilting her leg outward slightly to open her up. He pulled out a bit to slide back in with careful precision. He knew this position was a risky one, only doing it a few times with her in the past as it usually had her cumming almost too quickly. However, it was a personal favorite of his, being able to see her face twist in pleasure and hold her incredibly close. And each time in this position he was always trying to draw her out for longer and longer. It was destined to fail, though, with the pent-up emotions they had put to bed rather abruptly last night. He’d be lucky to make this last a few minutes. 

Still, he’d prefer to ease her every tense muscle and thought than ignore it completely, fearing it’d only be a quick moment. The least he could do was try , try to make her understand how much of a weakness she was to him and how much that fucking terrified him. 

He set a steady pace, keeping each thrust slow and careful but knowing damn well it was torture to her as his cock slid along her front wall. Jane’s eyes had screwed shut the second their lips separated, her mouth hanging open in a silent gasp with her hips tilting forwards to meet his thrusts. Though, Frank couldn’t help but yank her leg further over his hip, soaking in the sinfully delightful sight as she continued to roll her hips in time with his own. 

The second she tried to pick up the pace, Frank quickly lifted his hand to her hip with a hush to get her attention. “Jane.” He put the slightest pressure on her pelvis to stop her movement. And while the whine to bubble from her was tempting, her honey eyes barely focused on him under her lashes, encouraging him to reach and place a tender kiss on her nose. 

“There’s no rush, baby.” He whispered. “I need you to feel everythin’.” 

They won’t have this forever. 

A brief confirming nod eased the pressure off her pelvis, but he kept his hand close just in case. She let him lead this time, and his hips started up again in a nearly painfully slow-ticking rhythm. He could tell she was using every ounce of self-control to keep the pace unhurried, her breathing calculated as her eyes fell shut again. Of course, he appreciated her trying, but she just had to learn to let go and allow the moment to take them.

Frank shifted closer, his left arm snaking under her to palm her ass with both hands. Jane couldn’t help but also mold herself against him, winding her arms under his own with hands splayed across his back. She buried her face in his neck, teething along the exposed skin while attempting to muffle each whine and moan to slip. Allowing him to control the tempo of her thrusts meeting his own, the kindling fire was starting to burn within her pelvis, feeling each slicked stretch from his cock hit so fucking deep. And with the next gradual but sharp thrust, her eyes shot open, an intense clench of her walls even pausing Frank’s movements. 

Instead of pleading for him to hurry, or stop for that matter, Jane dug her nails into his shirt and rocked her hips. “Just - just like that. Deeper, Frank. Please.” A smile lifted his features at her request, and he hugged her close as his hips picked up again, each thrust steady and controlled but rolling deep within her. 

And it was just them, in that second, that little moment in time. Not knowing where they each started and the other ended, with nothing between them, not even a breath of air as Jane pulled away from his shoulder to seek his lips in a heated kiss. 

Everything outside of themselves floated away to where nothing mattered. There was no Rapture, no Ryan, no Sullivan, no Elixir project, no Tribune articles. There was no Fontaine, no threats hanging above their heads, and no war on the horizon. It was just them and what they could have been, what they could have had, and what they managed to keep even after a decade apart. Every curve of her body was the same, every scar, the way she shivered with each sharp, plunging drive of his cock, every hitch to her breath and deeply appeased sigh when their lips met, as if she’d been stranded in the desert without a drop of water for weeks. Even with every promise he made to her, every gentle touch with calloused hands, he needed this - needed her - forever. 

“Jane,” Frank muttered, voice hoarse and low. “Honey, look at me.” 

It was a struggle, but she lifted her head from where she had been nuzzled against his cheek, trying to ride out the growing heat and coil to tighten in her pelvis. Hazey eyes met him, and he huffed a weak chuckle. He lifted his right hand to cradle her jaw, changing his thrusts to shallow pumps that had her rolling those gorgeous amber eyes. 

“Marry me.” There was little hesitation. “For real this time. No fake weddin’s, no phony ceremonies.” 

His heart dropped a little at the painful twist to her features. “Frank - “ Jane’s voice wavered, sounding like she was on the verge of crying. “We can’t.” 

“Hey, hey,” He quickly thumbed away a tear welling on her lower eyelid before it fell. “I don’t give a fuck if we can’t down here. I don’t give a fuck on what Ryan thinks, what the Tribune thinks, what the rest of Rapture thinks.” He lifted his other hand to hold her between his palms. “Be my wife, please.” 

Jane reached her left hand to grab his wrist, glassy eyes searching his features. “Frank, with everything about to happen - “ 

“Then this is the perfect time to make it a reality. To make that ring mean somethin’.” He smiled softly at the hazy memory, “I had gotten it for you for that reason anyway.” 

The ring was a heavy weight on her finger, and she removed her hand from his to clench her palm for a second. He had also nearly stilled his movements completely, reaching for that same hand and unfurling her fingers to kiss along her palm. 

“Marry me, Jane Marie Cater,” Frank whispered again, the words barely discernible among the gurgling of bubbles and whale calls beyond the bedroom. 

And instead of being met with another sorrowful frown, her face broke into a beaming smile; tears streamed down her cheeks with a choked laugh. “Yes - yes, Frank, I will.” 

Her words rang in his ears, a warmth spreading from his chest. He tugged her into a deep kiss that she met with equal fervor. He felt a happiness he probably hadn’t felt since the surface overflowing when they pulled away, the same giddiness reflected in her honied eyes. 

Finally. 

A soft giggle bubbled from her as she rewound her arms under his own, drawing in close to his chest as her next exhale into his shirt dissolved into a whine. The moment was short-lived, however, as the slight movement had her rocking her hips into his own; his hands were also slow to drag down her lower back to settle along the swell of her ass. Of course, it’d be rude of him, her future husband, not to finish what he had started. Frank gradually rolled his hips to test the waters, having lost just a bit of their momentum; yet, she met him all the same with an equally slow thrust, her sigh long and satisfied when he hilted. 

Frank caught the tip of her ear between his teeth, giving a slight bite as a warning before pulling almost all the way out and thrusting deep. A muffled shriek was bitten into his shoulder as he set a steady but intense pace that had her clinging to him for dear life. She felt the fire fanning to life again, the delicious friction burning white hot in her pelvis as her nails clawed at his back. Goosebumps littered every inch of her body as his hands reached under her nightgown to rake intricate patterns of his own into her skin. 

It was almost startling how perfectly they molded into each other, how each give and take was so natural and fluid. She was always the one person who could unravel him, expose every nerve, and pick at his conscience to the point where she sometimes knew him better than he did. There were times when she didn’t even need to try. Her warmth and piercing gaze were alone enough for him to drop every wall and barrier, knowing she was safe keeping his secrets. 

He held her tight, groaning into her hair as he angled his thrusts to drag along the nerve-rich wall along the front of her pelvis. Her leg strewn over his hip buckled, clenching around him as his name fell from her lips like a prayer. He could tell she was close, the same hitch in her breath giving away her impending edge as she lifted her head to nuzzle her nose against his again. 

“Frank - “ She panted, eyes struggling to stay open. “I - I’m so close.” 

The smirk was brief as his pace quickened, then faltered, “Me too. Cum with me.” 

It was only a moment later when she went completely still in his grasp, her mouth open in a silent gasp as her hands gripped hard at his shirt. Each clench of her walls had him stilling as well, cumming with her as her name was a choked pant dripping from his lips. They held each other like a lifeline as they finally unraveled, Jane shivering with each muscle tensing and wracking her body. A warmth spread to every nerve, every fiber that put them both in a blissful haze. It felt like hours passed as the high gradually faded and cooled, yet both were still perfectly content to lay in each other's arms as their breathing slowed. 

At one point, it seemed as if they were both perfectly content to fall back asleep and avoid all the responsibilities awaiting them that day. The muted rays of light filtering in from the skylight above warmed the room enough, combined with the tranquil sight of schools of fish and a turtle or two passing by. It wasn’t until Jane started to sit beside him that Frank realized that he must have dozed off for a bit. He watched with tired eyes how her skewed auburn hair draped over her shoulders, the waves bouncing with her movement as she gathered it in a loose ponytail. She usually didn’t let her hair get so long, tending to keep it just above her shoulders. He still found the length suitable for her either way. 

“I’m going to get a shower.” She muttered to him over her shoulder, “Want to join?” And he met her question with a lazy smile. 

While the clutches of their bed were tempting enough, hesitant to let them go, they managed to finally get up as weakened legs carried them to the bathroom. And as Frank wasn’t a massive fan of hot showers, he found he couldn’t complain this time as Jane set the temperature before getting in. The heat felt amazing, though, soothing any aching muscles as Frank took the loofa from her the moment she picked it up. Just after rinsing her hair, Jane felt her shoulders sag as he ran the loofa along her back, scrubbing in circles that had her melting under his movements. It was intimate in ways she could only have imagined between them - domestic - which left her wanting more. 

“Just so you know,“ He muttered to her over her shoulder, Jane craning her neck to hear him over the rush of water. “I had to give Ryan a date during our lunch the other week.” 

Her brows knit, opening her eyes to the opaque tiles before her. “A date? For what?” 

“The wedding.” 

A smile split her features. Of course, a date for their real wedding. “What day did you give him?” 

“October 18th. Late enough to give us some time.”  

While the excitement was palpable that they were finally making this decade-long dream a reality between them, another sense of dread suddenly overwhelmed her. Deciding to make this real meant they actually had to plan a wedding now. October was still a good few months out, but she didn’t even have a dress. No venue was planned, no cake, no catering setup, no invite list, nothing. To most, all of that was the fun part; almost all women her age or younger always dreamt of planning their dream wedding at some point. Jane, however, groaned inwardly in that they just might end up needing Ryan’s help with some of the planning now. 

“Is that date good?” His question shook her from her thoughts as they finished their shower, Frank turning the faucet off and fetching them a couple of towels. 

“Oh yes, that date’s fine. I’m just…thinking about everything we have to actually do now.” 

His smile was reassuring as he dried off, trading his towel for a spare pair of pajama pants left on top of their bathroom’s laundry basket. “Eh, at least it won’t be too different from when we were originally fakin’ it, right?” 

Well…he wasn’t wrong. “True, but now that it’s official, I want it to be special.” 

Jane had wandered towards the sink, dabbing her hair dry with another towel as Frank stepped up behind her to grab for her waist. He placed a trail of kisses along her neck, humming to himself in thought. 

“I gotcha. Do whatever you want for this. It won’t be how you’d have it on the surface, but we can make somethin’ work.” 

Honestly, this wedding had the potential to be better than what she had thought of countless times over on the surface. Granted, this one probably won’t be as small and intimate as she would have hoped, but beggars can’t be choosers this time around. 

“Just - whatever you decide on, gotta make it quick with the plannin’.” Frank stepped away from her to let her change into her robe. “Don’t think we can afford to push anythin’ back past October.” 

Jane threw him a quizzical look through the mirror, her features dropping quickly once she saw the serious set to his. He was standing just off to the side, folding the towel she had been using for her hair a few times before heaving a sigh. 

“I’m startin’ Project Atlas.” 

The shift could have given her whiplash, but the sinking of her heart to her stomach hit her first, and she went rigid. Even though she saw the file on his desk, she hoped to any and all gods that he was only considering it, not implementing it already. But hearing it from her almost had her crumbling to the ground in fear and apprehension. 

“Frank -” Her voice cracked around his name as he avoided her gaze, his attention glued to a spot on the bathroom floor as he gripped the towel tight. “Y-you can’t. There has to be something else we can do besides this plan.”  

She watched as his eyes squeezed shut briefly, and he turned to throw the towel in the laundry basket with his back towards her. Yet, the fire in her chest continued to crackle, and she felt her hands start to shake from the horrendous thoughts surrounding this plan. But his silence was telling enough, and she felt the tension grow taunt. 

“Don’t tell me you won’t consider anything else. Please, don’t tell me you’re fine with this plan and putting Reggie’s life on the line, putting Jack’s life on the line for this stupid plan?” 

“Jane,” He turned swiftly, his eyes narrowed and brows set. “I am not arguing with you about this right now.” 

“Then don’t argue, Frank.” Her hands slapped to her sides. “Just, talk with me, hear me out on anything. There has to be something else we can do.” 

“There is nothing else!” He barked, “Reggie already agreed to this. He’s come to terms with his fate the moment he decided to join me on the surface.” Jane took a step back as his voice raised a bit. 

She knew the very moment he made up his mind about this project that she wouldn’t be able to change it. But she had to try . “So, you’re just ok with it then? Sending Reggie to his death and Jack to his demise?”

“I’m ready to sacrifice anythin’ to rid this shithole of Ryan an’ get out.” She took another step back when his piercing gaze met hers as he growled. “An’ if you have a problem with it, you know where the door is. If not, then drop it.” 

Her stomach churned, her heart hammered at his words and unwillingness to listen to her. If they were careful enough, they could outright leave. They could take Jack and Reggie with them, start a new life on the surface, and forget about Ryan and Rapture. Yet, she knew even that wasn’t as simple as it sounded. It was much more straightforward than what Frank was planning, though. 

“So, that’s it then?” Jane found the words scratching along her dry throat, rather hushed and careful with her next string of thoughts. “What’s going to happen to me?” 

She watched his shoulders heave with a sigh, his gaze lifting towards her from where he had them glued to the tile flooring. “Hopefully, nothin’.” He muttered. “I plan to get you out of the range of fire an’ somewhere safe. Wait till everythin’ blows over, till we make it to the surface.” 

“Hiding me away?” She huffed a scoff. “Frank, you know very well keeping me locked between four walls isn’t going to do shit.” 

The ghost of a smirk was subtle on his lips, trying to remain serious about the situation but knowing very well that she was right. “I’ll have you help me with all of this in some way or another. But, I have a feelin’ Fontaine’s death ain’t gonna be so pretty, an’ I need you away from all of that.” 

Something about the sincerity in his words, the hidden fear shadowing his features, had her realizing that this plan, Fontaine’s death, might be the only option he had. It would surely give Ryan a reason to let his guard down, to give them the time to perfect Frank’s newest alias and overthrow Ryan in the most conductive way possible. She just had to trust him, which was both the easiest and hardest thing for her to do, especially when other lives were on the line. 

He must have noticed her brows creasing, lost in thought, as he approached her slowly to run his hands up the length of her arms. 

“It’s all not ideal, I know. But we gotta do somethin’. Somethin’ needs to happen an’ what I’ve got is workin’ with the best of the hand we were dealt.” He gave her a soft smile as she lifted her attention towards him. “Ryan’s not gonna go down without a fight. We just gotta hit as hard as we can the one chance we get.” 

One of his hands reached to cradle her cheek as she leaned into his touch, her own lifting to circle around his wrist. “Alright. But if things go south, we stop and leave immediately, by any means.” 

His nod was reassuring. It was a risk they’d be willing to take, but Jane couldn’t help but shake one thought from her whirring mind. 

They still needed more time.

~*~

Jane wore her expensive clothes like a second skin at this point. Opting for a deep navy dress, it was rather casual, but the price tag was still almost as hefty as the wedding dress she’s had her eye on recently. Almost. 

Still, the stares she got while traversing through Arcadia rolled off her shoulders like the hot water she relished during her shower this morning. Frank had pulled her into a hungry kiss too, before leaving for the Futuristics, musing her lipstick just slightly, and she couldn’t find the care to fix it before meeting with Ryan. No, she was rather focused on the extra heavy weight of the pistol in her purse, clutching it close to her side as she made it to the Waterfall Grotto. 

Once they had agreed to meet a week after Frank officially proposed to her, Ryan reserved the area, preparing to show the space off as a possibility for her and Frank’s reception. While she had planned on taking the meeting seriously, knowing she’d be screwed without Ryan’s help with at least some mundane aspects of this wedding, her chest constricted at the means in which she intended to use the pistol. 

She and Frank needed more time, needed Ryan to give them more time without continuing to hang the threat of her project over her head. All a facade for the time required now regarding Frank’s plan. And she was more than happy to take it into her own hands by lightly persuading Ryan to give it to them. She was sure Frank wasn’t even aware the pistol was missing from the top drawer in his desk back at the complex, and she intended to keep it that way. God knows he wouldn’t dare let her confront Ryan about this, but someone had to, and she found she seemed to have had some sort of sway already with the man. 

She had to at least try. 

“Ah, there you are, my dear.” 

The distant voice interrupted her thoughts, and Jane turned her attention to Ryan, who stood at the base of the Grotto with a champagne flute in hand. She forced a smile, strolling up to the man as he reached for another flute on a table by his side to hand off to her. 

“I’m rather surprised you reached out to set up this meeting.” Ryan interrupted himself to take a healthy sip of the champagne. “I’m assuming we’re letting bygones be bygones in favor of a positive and cheerful event?” 

Jane bit the inside of her cheek, “Of course, Mr. Ryan. I’m sure we can set aside any differences for the time being. The 18th is only looming closer, and Frank and I are embarrassingly unprepared for this wedding.” 

His next chuckle was lighthearted, motioning her to walk with him through the Grotto, which she followed with hesitant steps. “Nonsense. I’m in full belief that no one is ever prepared for a momentous event such as a wedding. Even those who plan months in advance will never fully be ready for even the slightest hiccup.” 

He wasn’t entirely wrong. While Jane loved to keep a schedule and have plans while she was in school and college, even she had to admit there were times when she had to let fate take the wheel. Instead of responding, she busied herself with a quick taste of the champagne, pleasantly surprised at Ryan’s selection. 

“Which is why you should feel no shame in coming to me for help.” Ryan continued with barely a breath between his last comments. “I’ve been more than excited to show off the Grotto and how it could be a perfect spot for your reception.” 

It was, indeed, a beautiful space within Arcadia. The Grotto technically had two levels: a grassy first level visitors walked into, a reasonably open space Jane could already see working perfectly as an open bar. A set of wooden stairs then circled the perimeter of the Grotto and led to the lower level. Here is where the watermill sat, keeping the rivers flowing throughout Arcadia. It was a cozy space with a few tables and chairs for casual dining, surrounded by beautiful rose bushes and various other flowers and greenery. With the initial thought in mind, Jane was worried it’d be too small of a space to house a whole reception; however, standing in it now - and with Ryan’s reassurance - her mind changed relatively quickly. 

There was a lot of promise, and the thought had a smile slowly crawling across her features as she attempted to hide it with the rim of her glass. Still, Ryan must have caught some telltale sign he hit the mark with this suggestion, smiling along with her. 

“I take it the Grotto is a strong contender?” 

Jane nodded eagerly. “A strong contender, or the perfect spot on the first try. It’s a lovely space, Mr. Ryan, perfect for a wedding reception.” 

“Oh, wonderful!” Ryan beamed, giving a once-over of the area. “We’ll certainly add more chairs and tables with plenty of room to dance. Up on the first level, I can hire someone to maintain a bar for the cocktail hour as well.” 

She swept her attention around the space as Ryan pointed to different corners where a live band could play and where a catered buffet would sit. It felt so surreal to envision this for her wedding, and the excitement was palpable as she and Ryan exchanged ideas on decor and preferred restaurants to cater the meals. They had to have been there for a good hour or two as Ryan offered his help again on the mundane details to complete the space, promising to keep her in the loop as the decor was selected and a menu was crafted for the event. 

As they then set their empty flutes on a nearby table, Ryan reached for his briefcase positioned on the accompanying chair to produce some paperwork to sign to ensure the space would be hers for the 18th. And just as she was done signing her name, Ryan capping his pen after adding his signature next to hers, Jane had reached for her purse with the pistol a heavy weight in her hand as she drew it on Ryan. 

She could laugh at how little phased the man looked. Staring down the barrel with a quirk to his brow, he raised both hands, palms facing her. The tension quickly flooded the space around them as well, keeping her arm steady as Ryan huffed a breathless chuckle. 

“If I had known there was still a bit of strain from our last meeting - “

“This has nothing to do with what happened last week.” She interrupted him. “I’m only requesting a favor.” 

A ghost of a smirk tugged along his lips. “A favor? My dear, you’d be best voicing your assertion without such means of intimidation.” 

“And you didn’t have to kidnap me to explain why I had a different last name.” 

Touché. 

Another soft chuckle, “Alright then, what is your request?” 

Ryan had started shifting away from her, taking a few steps back as Jane confidently followed. “I need you to give Frank and me time.” 

“Time?” 

Jane practically snarled, “Until our wedding, I ask you not to terrorize my Elixir project or the Futuristics with threats of shutting everything down.”

Of course, she didn’t miss Frank's phone call with Ryan the other day, an argument stirring with Ryan throwing out the audacious move of shutting down every business Frank owned if he didn’t cooperate. However, Jane knew Frank would rather let Ryan sink his stores to the bottom of the ocean than admit he had some grand scheme against him. 

“What then? Am I to believe you’re not requesting this flaky immunity to give the two of you time to finalize my demise?” 

The clicking of the pistol’s chamber engaging echoed throughout the space around them, Jane’s gaze set on the space between Ryan’s eyes. 

“Why would you assume that when I could take care of you myself here and now?” 

Something flashed in Ryan’s eyes. Doubt? Disbelief? “And what makes this threat any different from Fontaine’s a week ago?” He hummed. 

“Because I won’t hesitate with the trigger.” 

She made her point with her finger curling around the trigger, her heart pounding in her ears at the wrath fueling her intentions. Her arm jerked only a little as Ryan took a step closer to her, the barrel nearly resting on his forehead as his gaze snagged her own. 

“Do it then. End this and take Rapture as your own.” He smiled. “It’s what you both want.” 

It couldn’t be this easy. Yet, it felt like something sinister was quickly drowning her as she continued to hold his gaze, a sudden fire bursting in her chest with the heat rising to scorch her face, seeing red as her finger pulled on the trigger. 

If she blinked, she would have missed it. 

Ryan must have noticed her finger twitch before she fired, one of his raised hands swiftly slipping under her arm to brush her hand and the pistol away. The bullet whizzed by his head, the initial sound deafening but a smug twist to his features solidifying as he heard the dull thwack of the bullet lodging itself into the wall behind him. Jane barely registered what had happened before Ryan tugged at her outstretched arm, immediately pulling her into a bruising kiss that had her eyes bugging at the action. It lasted mere seconds before Jane squeaked a muffled but defiant yelp against his lips, her opposite hand flailing to connect with his chest and shove him away. He went reluctantly but eventually separated as they both panted into the rapidly growing space between them as Jane stumbled back. 

“What the fuck - “ 

His chuckle was deep. “Now, Miss Carter, no need for such choice words when you were perfectly content to put a bullet in my head a moment ago.” 

Speechless, Jane resisted the urge to wipe at her mouth to avoid completely ruining her lipstick, instead hovering her hand over her mouth with eyes wide at the man. 

Ryan closed the space between them again, leaning close to mutter, “I’ll give you both time. But only until your wedding. After, I will not stop until Fontaine is behind bars or dead.” 

His words weren’t surprising but still pierced her heart. Jane couldn’t even find it in herself to nod in understanding, instead tearing herself away from him to scramble back up the stairs of the Grotto. She struggled to shove the pistol back into her purse, finding it impossible to catch her breath as she reached the first level. 

Jane didn’t dare to look back, afraid Ryan would be on her tail, and she shuffled around to fix her hair and dress before stepping back out into Arcadia’s glens. Glancing around quickly to see if anyone cared to notice the apparent gunshot, she was relieved to see no one in the near vicinity and made a break for the bathysphere station, cursing under her breath the entire time. 

Ryan wasn’t going to let this go, not in a million years. But at least she and Frank had time, and that was enough, for now.

~*~

Chapter Text

~*~

Jane lifted a hand to her mouth, the pads of her fingers featherlight along her lips as she dared to remember Ryan’s kiss. The brash nature and scratch of his mustache left her skin red and itchy. The memory still made her shudder, and she did her best to continue to will away the intrusive feeling. 

She hadn’t told Frank about the ordeal, hadn’t even told him it was Ryan she saw to set up the Waterfall Grotto as the site for their reception. It was easy enough to lie and say she hired a wedding planner, giving her an excuse to, once again, leave the complex any time Project Atlas was brought up. Much like today, she was quick to grab her purse at the mention of Reggie taking Jack to the range again, throwing out the schedule she had with meeting the planner for her wedding dress. Of course, she had every intention of going out looking for a dress regardless, but she wanted anything to keep Frank from coming with her. Anything to keep the sanctity of the groom from seeing the bride’s dress until the big day, but also to keep any conversation surrounding Ryan from surfacing.   

He had given her and Frank time, and she intended to take full advantage of that, regardless of Project Atlas. 

Jane dropped her hand from her lips to fiddle with the satin fabric belt keeping her robe closed. Her attention focused on her reflection in the mirror before her, and she couldn’t help but notice how…fatigued she looked. A deep frown pulled at her features, and her eyes appeared sunken in her skull. It could have been attributed to the dimmed lighting in the dressing area of Lottie’s shop, but her overall disheveled appearance soured her mood even further to where tears pricked the corner of her eyes for a second. 

She wiped them quickly once she saw Lottie’s reflection. The woman struggled with a few gowns slung over her arm, huffing while trying not to drag them along the floor. 

“Now, I do have a few here. But if none of these suit you, I’ll have to talk to a friend of mine in Fort Frolic who also keeps some wedding inventory.” 

If anything, she had to admire the woman’s excitement as Lottie took to hanging each dress on a nearby rack, turning to Jane with a beaming smile. The shop owner had to be the most thrilled out of everyone Jane had already told about an official wedding date. She’d have to remember to send Lottie an invite…

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll have something.” Jane interrupted her thoughts, smoothing out her robe with a forced smile. “You always seem to have something that suits me just right, Lottie.” 

The woman beamed, “Anything for one of my best customers! And not just because you come to me for all your fashion needs, but you’re just wonderful to work with, dear.” 

Her words were like a stake in Jane’s heart. 

“O-oh, well, thank you, Lottie.” The ache in her chest caused her to turn her eyes away from the woman and back towards the line of dresses awaiting her. “You’ve always been so kind to me, especially when it feels like the rest of Rapture isn’t.” 

She muttered the last part, hoping for her words to go unnoticed under her breath, but Lottie, who had ears like a bat, heard her regardless. 

“Oh, honey.” Lottie shuffled up behind her on the dressing platform. “I know things have been rather rocky lately. Fontaine isn’t giving me all the details, but I have an idea that it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows.” Jane felt the tears brim on her lower lid again as Lottie placed her hands along her shoulders to give a reassuring squeeze. “But, both of you have this to look forward to, the wedding. It’s supposed to be an incredible day, and I’ll do anything to help make it so.” 

God, she truly didn’t deserve this woman in her life. 

Jane gave a weak smile to Lottie through the mirror, lifting her hands to gently wipe the tears from her eyes before they could stain her cheeks. 

“Thank you, Lottie. Truly.” 

“Of course, honey.” Lottie only returned the smile, but larger and more brilliant. “Now, let's find you your perfect wedding dress!” 

For the first time in a few days, Jane could see her expressions and features brighten as she tried on dress after dress, twirling around to watch the delicate fabrics sway in the mirror. Each dress was so different in its own way; some were lace, some had a more silk-like material, but all had elements she wished she could pick off and fabricate into a whole new dress. She still had her mother’s wedding dress that she was able to snag before leaving her father in New York, and she even debated with herself about asking Lottie to tailor it to fit Jane’s style. At the same time, she wanted something new. Rapture was supposed to be a new opportunity for her, a new life, a new start, especially with Frank. It was only appropriate that she included that mindset for her wedding. Regardless of what would happen after, it was a new chapter she needed to fall headfirst into, starting with the perfect dress. 

Jane smiled at her reflection after doing another twirl in her current dress. It was a beautiful A-line with a swoop neck and frilly short sleeves, paired with a rhinestone belt that added just a little character. However, while she thought it was gorgeous, it wasn’t exactly what she wanted. 

“Hmm, this one looks like a miss as well.” Lottie hummed to herself, holding her chin in her hand as she watched Jane sway with her own pensive look. 

“I like the overall shape,” Jane admitted, focusing on the skirt’s movement. “It’s just…the top and skirt, it needs something.” 

Lottie circled Jane, fluffing the skirt of her dress to lay in an almost perfect circle along the platform she stood on. Jane tried to stand as still as she could, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lip as she watched the other woman and the gears visibly turning in her head. 

Something clicked then. The lightbulb was almost visible as Lottie clicked her tongue with a wave of her hand and skittered off to the back storage area. The woman’s mannerisms pulled another smile, and Jane tilted her face away from her reflection to hide it from herself as she studied her current dress. 

What if the skirt was shorter? Frank had recently gifted her a pair of beautiful silver heels with subtle rhinestones decorating the strappy toe. She could certainly wear those and a dress with a shorter skirt to show them off. Oh! And what if that dress had a matching rhinestone belt like this one? Something sparkly to catch the subtly warm lighting she noticed in the Grotto…

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted again as Lottie came bounding out from the corner she had disappeared behind. However, Jane’s curiosity was instantly piqued when she noticed the dress the woman had slung over her arm was not white but a gorgeous light seafoam blue. 

“Now, just bear with me, dear. I know it’s not white, but if the fit and fabric are what you’re looking for, I can absolutely have the same dress made in white.” 

As Lottie hung the dress on the rack, Jane’s jaw dropped, eyes bugging as she rushed off the dressing platform to get a better look. It had a shorter skirt and a very faint floral pattern embroidered onto the bodice, as the skirt was mainly tulle. The blue, however, was the most stunning part of the dress. It was very light, but the distinct blueish-green seafoam was still present in each fold of the fabric. Her fingers reached out to trace the embroidered flowers, only to find there were a few crystals integrated in as well, and her heart swelled. 

This was it, and she didn’t even have it on yet! 

Lottie had been watching her with fascination, eventually encouraging Jane to change so she could try the dress on and examine it in more detail. The dress slipped on effortlessly, and the fit was already incredibly close. Excited, Jane held the bodice while Lottie secured the zipper and a few extra clips in the back. Her jaw dropped slightly as she oogled her reflection. 

The dress was even better seeing it on her figure; the shape of the swooping neckline angling down the bodice into the aline skirt made her appear so much taller, accentuating her simple hourglass figure as the skirt stopped around her mid-claves. It left her breathless, each small rhinestone stitched into the floral pattern, catching the lighting above and sparkling as she twirled from side to side. A smile was slow to lift her features, the first genuine smile brightening her overall mood in a while. 

“Lottie, it’s - “ 

“It’s absolutely gorgeous!” Lottie chimed in before Jane could even begin to think of a similar adjective. “You look like a bride in this dress, Jane, if I’m being completely honest with you.” 

Yeah…she could see that, too. She could definitely see her wearing this dress down the aisle and during her first dance with Frank. The thought actually brought tears to her eyes, fogging her vision for a second, and she wiped them away before they had a chance to streak her face and ruin her makeup. 

“I also wouldn’t change the color either.” Lottie hummed to herself as she fluffed out the tulle of the skirt. “What do you think, dear? Is it missing anything? Something we should change or take away?” 

Jane took a second to study the dress, imagining it on her wedding day and exactly how she’d want it to look while getting ready that morning. 

“I think it needs a rhinestone sash or belt to match the small crystals in the bodice…and the sleeves are a little tight for my liking; I’d want to see them hang from my shoulders - to flow a little bit, if you know what I mean?” 

Lottie didn’t hesitate to pull a tape measure and notebook from her apron to start measuring Jane’s shoulders for the sleeves and waist for the belt. She noted every little detail Jane pointed out that she would change, ensuring this dress would be immaculate for her big day. Her excitement blossomed as they finalized the changes, setting a date when the alterations would be complete so Jane could return and retry the dress. Her mind started whirring again on what jewelry pieces she’d pair with the dress and the heels Frank gifted her, how she’d do her hair and makeup, and - 

“So,” Lottie interrupted the brief silence between them as she helped Jane out of the dress and back into her robe. “I’m so pleased we found your dress, but what about bride’s maid dresses? Do you and Frank have a theme or color scheme picked out for the wedding and bride’s maids or maid of honor?” 

The question had her fingers pausing along the robe’s sash, her mind going blank as her gaze was slow to lift toward the other woman. 

“Um…I - we don’t have a color scheme yet, actually…” 

Lottie stood there with the dress now in her arms, watching Jane with a smile. “Oh, that’s alright, dear. Those are the little details you worry about after figuring out your dress, the venue, the food -” 

Jane watched as Lottie returned the dress to its hanger on the rack, peeling her notes from her notepad to pin to the dress. “What about bride’s maids? Surely you must have chosen a couple of your friends already. I can always play around with different dress shapes if you’re alright giving me their sizes.” 

Something heavy pierced her heart before sinking to her stomach. Friends? Oh…of course. She has friends who could be her bride’s maids. There’s…

“Right…um—” Jane swallowed hard, clutching the sash to her robe as her mind raced through the many faces of friends she once had. 

Her heart rate quickened in a panic, and she realized then and there that she really had no one to ask to be her bride’s maids. A deep sorrow filled her chest at the thought of Ann, realizing it’d been months since she’d last spoken to her or even thought about what she’d be up to now. Even considering the other scientists she came to know and make causal friends with at the labs or the few women working the freezers at the Fisheries. It was a revelation; she really had no one... 

Her internal hysteria must have been evident along her features. Her eyes quickly shifted left and right as her thoughts raced too quickly. The realization hitting her too hard. 

“Jane?” She suddenly heard Lottie’s voice through the haze, lifting her attention toward the woman who watched her with a concerned crease on her brow. 

Yet, she didn’t push it, much to Jane’s relief, as Lottie stepped forward to run her hand along the sleeve of her robe, a comforting touch on her arm. “How about we worry about the bride’s maids’ dresses later, yeah? I can work on your dress in the meantime. It might take me a couple of weeks to finalize all the little details you want anyway.” 

Jane nodded slowly, blinking the tears away with a forced smile. “Y-yes, of course. I’ll need to talk to Frank about our color scheme as well, if that’ll help.” 

Lottie returned her smile with a nod, but Jane could see the empathy in the woman’s eyes. Neither of them had to say it out loud, yet Jane wondered if that made things worse, the subtle acknowledgment that sat between the two women like a wedge as Jane left the boutique moments later. She at least had a date when her dress would be ready to try on again and a rough estimate on how much the dress plus the alterations would be. But she couldn’t seem to shake the immense sense of loneliness she hadn’t even realized was weighing on her as much as it was. 

Jane slowed her steps as she adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder, her grip remaining tight on the leather as she stared ahead through the crowds along the High Street. Could she maybe get away with not having any bride’s maids or a maid of honor? Would people look at her funny to see her alone at the altar, with no entourage standing behind her with tears in their eyes as they’d watch her finally make things official with Frank? Did something like that even really matter? 

Even if it was an element that wasn’t really necessary to include in a wedding, she still couldn’t shake the memory of the last time she and Ann had spoken to each other. 

That night, that dinner…Jane dropped her gaze to the ground before her, watching the slightly scuffed tips of her heels with each step, her mind whirring. She’s been so busy recently, everything with the Futuristics, her project, the Fisheries, all of it enough to keep her mind preoccupied and distracted. And ever since that night, she had buried her and Ann’s fight deep within her subconscious. 

She didn’t need friends, and she didn’t need such relationships holding her back. Ann was only pointing out every wrong, every flaw, and every problem with her and Frank’s relationship, but only because she didn’t know. And if anything, Jane regretted not being able to tell her, not having the guts to explain everything, and then having Ann swear she would keep their secret safe as well…because she was her friend, right? And that’s what friends do…

Jane lifted her head to find she had wandered down to the first floor of the High Street, a good bit of the crowd thinning out with fewer stores to shop in down here. There was, however, the Express station with very few people milling about the platform, and she stopped dead in her tracks. 

What if…

Slowly making her way over to the Express schedule, she scanned each line, searching for the next train, her heart thumping in her chest once spotting what she was looking for. She paced towards the ticket booth next, fishing a few cents from her purse to pay the weary-looking man behind the counter as he gave her a subtle, incredulous look after handing her the ticket. Yet, she didn’t bother with an explanation, taking the ticket with a smile and a ‘thank you’ before making her way to the platform where the next train was already pulling in. Dripping still with salt water as the airlock door clanged shut behind it, she was quick to join the line consisting of only four other people to board. 

She took a window seat towards the back of the train car, settling in with her purse on her lap, noticing the seastar stuck to the window, and she inhaled a shaky breath. 

Familiar, like nothing had ever changed. 

After waiting a few minutes, the train finally departed the station again, the airlock doors shuttering open as the train creaked along its overhead track, back out into the ocean's darkness. Jane lifted her hand to rest her chin against her palm, leaning against the window as her eyes slipped shut. The gentle rattling of the car along its track was a comforting motion, one that always lulled her into a quick nap, the trip from the labs to her apartment long enough to allow her a few solid minutes of rest. The lights also dimmed within the car as it traversed deeper under the city. 

Then, when the subtle jerking of the train signaled it was about to stop at another station, Jane opened her eyes to find the seastar still stuck to the window. However, the deep sea debris clouded whatever view they’d have outside of the train car, yet it was a sight she was all too familiar with. 

The Drop was a part of Rapture that seemingly never changed, no matter what nonsense was happening further up the water column. It was a city within a city, its people going about their business with a firm distaste for both Ryan and Fontaine, content to live with the fact that they were wholly ignored. The Drop had a peace to it defined by the warm smiles from those who had very little to their name and those who worked for scraps but would seldom complain so long as they were returning home to loved ones. Built from the leftovers of Rapture, it wasn’t beautiful by any means, but the people still made the place unique. 

Until…it wasn’t. 

Jane had to suppress the shock as soon as she stepped from the train and onto the rusted platform. Or, at least, onto the part of the platform that wasn’t underwater. 

The high-pitched hissing from a nearby busted pipe just on the other side of the platform confirmed the concerning sight of flooding. And if that already didn’t unsettle her, it was the giant warning signs covering the few train schedule boards scattered throughout the platform. Large, intimating blocks of text informing anyone coming and going via the Express that the Drop’s platform was to be eliminated from the schedule entirely due to the flooding. Her brow furrowed once realizing that Ryan would instead trap the Drop’s residents than fix the issue causing the flooding. 

Her heart sank to her stomach, sitting like a lead weight as she paced within the platform, noticing a few ticket booths had already been shut down. The sight hurt more than she could have expected; this place that used to be her first home down here in Rapture, completely forgotten and abandoned. 

She pushed through the troubling atmosphere, leaving the platform as her heels clicked down the concrete hallways leading toward the center of the Drop. The path from the station was always one she traversed through rather blindly, even when she did live down here. However, once seeing the reality of the state surrounding the platform, her eyes swept across the rusted scraps of metal and tarps littered with propaganda showcasing the residents' disdain for Ryan. Graffiti, posters, and handmade signs all voicing the collective frustration of a higher figure’s neglect. Though, she did avoid eye contact with several homeless men surrounding a burning can, all muttering amongst themselves about their individual inventories of ADAM and how Ryan betrayed them and their families. The prolonged second glance they did serve her with was enough to make her skin crawl, her strides lengthening to move past them as quickly as possible. 

However, the second she stepped into the Drop’s square, she had to swallow the lump in her throat from the instant desolation that greeted her.  

The echoing sound of water dripping consistently from somewhere had her on edge, the hand gripping her purse’s strap shifting to clutch at her dress along her chest. So many stores within the square had been half-hazardously boarded up with dark, soulless, cracking windows staring back. What few lights dangled from the ceiling before now flickered with smashed bulbs, hanging precariously on fraying cables. The sudden smell of mold and mildew assaulted her nose as well, realizing just how long she’d been away from the Drop to not be immune to its flaws and shortcomings anymore. 

The only beacon of light that still remained was from the warm neon glow of the Fishbowl Diner at the center of the square, paired with the humming crowd within the limited space. The smile was slow to crawl across her face, the sheer comfort radiating from the unheard chatter and wide smiles pulling her in and away from the balmy chill of the Drop. Jane wandered up to the windows near the front entrance, the sweet citrusy smell of their famous peach pie wafting up into the air around the diner. Her nose also picked up on the savory scent of bacon, her mouth-watering as memories surfaced of the routine breakfasts she’d have here with Ann and James. 

While watching the cooks through the tiny windows behind the bar, she had to do a double take as a waitress blocked her view for a second. Then, she saw a brief flash of a yellow dress, and she knew it immediately to be Ann. 

Jane had to search the diner again, finally catching Ann helping a table on the other end of the diner and she smiled softly. Ann appeared as if she hadn’t changed a bit. She had her beautiful curly hair pulled up in a bun with a white bandana tied in a stylish bow to keep the longer strands out of her face. She could feel the other woman’s bright smile even from outside the diner, instantly drawn in like a moth to a flame, and it felt like, at that moment, that their fight had never happened. It felt like she had just returned home from a long midnight shift at the Medical Pavilion, one of her very first jobs in Rapture, to meet Ann for breakfast just as she was finishing her own shift. 

The spark of joy at the memories lifted her hand to the door of the diner, caught up completely in the idea that their friendship could be reconciled over a cup of coffee. She could forgive Ann, she wanted to. She wanted nothing more than to have the one person who stuck by her side through thick and thin down here in this godforsaken city back in her life. Yet, just as her fingers were inches from the slightly fogged glass of the diner’s front door, a wave of cold sorrow washed over her, and her hand lowered. Just as Ann turned from the table to head back to the kitchen, Jane inhaled a shaky breath and staggered to hide herself within a small crowd of people approaching from behind her, completely evading Ann’s gaze. 

Stepping aside to let the others through ahead of her, she clutched again at the fabric of her dress to steady the pounding of her heart. She blinked several times to clear the haze of memories, the dank and musty smell of the Drop harshly tugging her back to reality as she took a few stumbling steps back from the diner. 

She couldn’t…she couldn’t do this. 

Dragging her hand down from her chest, Jane gripped the sleeve of her dress as she quickly turned from the diner and paced back to the Express station. Tears welled in her eyes as she kept her gaze glued to the ground in front of her, not even caring about the few puddles of seawater she neglected to avoid, which soaked her heels a bit. 

She couldn’t make amends with Ann if her only purpose were to be her bride’s maid. She couldn’t try to act like their fight never happened when Jane constantly fought with herself on how Ann was right with some of her points regarding Jane’s relationship and overall personality change. While she still didn’t know the truth, Jane couldn’t bring her back into her life when the future promised so much…unknown. Frank promised her that he’d do anything in his power to keep her safe from whatever bullshit Ryan was about to evoke. There was no guarantee Jane could do the same for Ann. 

Several moments later, she was back on the Express train heading to Apollo Square, the weight of what she had just done sitting heavy on her shoulders. She was the only person on the train this time, but she still found herself huddling close to the windows, in the same seat with the seastar stuck to the bottom corner of the fogged glass. Leaning her head against the window, she quickly wiped at the tear rolling down her cheek, tasting the salt on her lip, and she inhaled another deep, shaky breath. 

And as the train disembarked back out into the ocean, she closed her eyes to the rattling of the car traversing along its overhead tracks, an ache in her chest for many things: missed opportunities, lost friendships. Little did she know it would be the last time she’d ever see the Drop or Ann alive again.

~*~