Out Of Practice - Mercer/McRae

[do]

.. this follows 'Not A Pool Man'.

Alpha Ceti V - Gaia
Stardate: 15.11.69


It was almost three o'clock in the morning before he got the old man to bed and even so there was cussing and swearing. At one point the man actually took a swing at him before sobbing about Ely and Joey. Pathetic was what it was. However, Jake still stayed with him all night. When he stumbled out of Earth Quarter, the sun's rays were peeking out and he had hardly slept a wink. He was exhausted but he remembered he had a...

It's not a date.

It's a fucking picnic... is that better? That same sardonic voice challenged.

Whatever it was, he grabbed a shower and cleaned up before heading towards the park, seeking her out, wondering how the scent of her could affect him so deeply that he was looking forward to this.

Eden Park. Sloane must have walked around the place thrice by the time she settled on one spot. And even then, after dropping the hamper and her guitar to the ground and getting the blanket laid out, she was second-guessing herself, wondering if that other spot further from the trees would be better. It was ridiculous and got her annoyed at herself. Hell, the man had probably laughed at her the second he'd turned around the night before with his mind made up right then to blow her off come morning.

Sloane had woken up at some ungodly hour and gotten her five-mile run out of the way, hitting the Soko on the way back. After that, she'd showered and changed. Four times. She hadn't even realised she had that many change of clothes in her closet. The food and drinks finally packed after plenty of faffing around, she gathered she probably could have invited all of Merrick's recruits to come pig out. What was Mercer going to think of that... all that effort? Well, once upon a time, she herself would have run.

Taking her coat off, she bunched it against the trunk of a tree and sat down to lean against it. She took a deep breath and tried to relax, taking in the sights. Even since the end of the war, there was an air of... weightlessness about Gaia. Like everyone had let out a collective sigh. There had been a lot of celebrating too - and mourning. But today, as Sloane watched the few people about - some jogging, others walking their dogs or playing footy - she felt Gaia carefree for the first time in over twelve years. The sun was already warm, chasing the chill out of the light morning breeze, and the birds were-- alright, stop right there. What the hell was going on with her? Give it another hour for the fact that Mr. Happy won't show to sink in and tell me how many chirping birds or babbling brooks you'll notice around here! Sloane didn't fight her cynical internal monologue. She was used to it and it kept her on the straight and narrow. But she had come to like having it proved wrong sometimes.

"Whatever," she muttered under her breath, grabbing her guitar. She played a few cords, tuned the strings then resumed, humming as she went.

It had been a while since Jake was remotely self conscious about how he looked to a woman. Really when you paid for it, you didn't really have to concern yourself with whether or not she found you nice to look at. In fact, you didn't have to worry about a whole bunch of things, like whether or not she found you decent company. But here he was, 34 years old, hadn't had a relationship in 12 years, going to a date...oh fuck yeah it was a date, no matter how much he might try to convince himself otherwise, with a woman who outranked him and didn't wipe her mouth with her sleeve and ask you for the most expensive thing on the menu when you were buying her food.

Walking through the park, he looked around for her, trying to work out how to look nonchalant while at the same time interested. Fuck, he was so out practice. However, he heard music... a guitar in fact and tried to identify the music. It was played with an expert hand and taking Joey and Eli to enough recitals had told him whomever was playing had been doing for a long time.

She'd been concentrating, eyes on her instrument, when something stirred her spidey senses. Looking up, she saw him. Mr. Happy himself, heading her way. She smiled despite herself and ducked her head, time to put a cap on that complete moronic teenager reaction she was having. She continued playing, finally raising her gaze again, and as he got closer, she noticed that his night must have been pretty dreadful. Her hand slowly stopped strumming and she was suddenly glad she had left that summer dress in the back of the wardrobe. Her old faded jeans and Earth Forces' tee were a better match to his slept-in clothes.

"You made it," she said, when he got close enough. She couldn't hide the fact she was pretty chuffed about that.

"Yeah." He nodded slowly, taking her in. The last time he saw her in daylight, she was covered in sand, waterlogged and pissed off that she couldn't get the equipment. The different circumstances of their meeting now, took him by surprise. Sun was shinning through that glorious dark hair and she seemed pleased to see him. "You play good."

"Thanks. A lot of practice. One of the only things that keep me sane up there," she explained, glancing at the blue sky above them and space beyond. "Come, sit," she invited him, as she moved her guitar aside. She took in his tired features, his bloodshot eyes. He still looked damn fine with that hair spiking every which way.

It didn't require a genius to see that she had taken the effort to set this up and in a sensation that was wholly alien to him, Jake felt... touched. He was fucking touched that she had gone through all this... for him. "Thanks," he said, lowering himself into the blanket against the grass and finding it almost surreal that he was sitting here with the Battle Bitch of the North, having a picnic.

Stop fucking calling her that, asswipe. Her name is Sloane.

"Interesting song, you were playing," Jake said, an almost bemused smile on his face. Yes, he was smiling, fucking sue him already - the woman made a picnic for them, he could at least muster up a smile of gratitude for that. "Ain't no sunshine by Jose Feliciano, am I right?"

"Yeah..." Sloane didn't know what surprised her the most: the smile on his face or the fact that Mercer knew Feliciano. "You play too?" It was the only way she could explain why this MACO would know a musician from the late 20th century.

"No." He shook his head. "My younger brother was the musician. I used to pick him up from guitar lessons." He thought of Ely, carrying his instrument around, convinced that girls would give it up for musicians.

Ah. "Well, if he was the musician, what does that make you?" Sloane was curious to find out how he labelled himself because she sure couldn't peg him down.

"Me?" Jake asked, thinking on the question and then finding an answer a moment later. "I was the oldest," he replied fondly. He was past the point where acknowledging he had a family hurt. Twelve years had passed and Jake wasn't unique in his loss. He had learnt to deal with it.

"That's all? The oldest?" Sloane smiled, thinking on Luc, her eldest brother. He had been many things but yeah, he had liked to use the fact he was the oldest to push the rest of them around. "I think I know what you mean. I had an older brother, in fact two... but the oldest one, he never let us forget it," she said, in a teasing tone.

Jake gave her another of those faded, worn smiles. Not even a smile really, a little tug on the corner of his lip, ambitious enough to believe itself to be one. "It was a little different for me. Uhm... my mom died young so Ely and Joey were my responsibility. Dad was around but not enough so it was my job to take care of them. I was the oldest. Dental appointments, homework, guitar lessons. Always running after those two dumb asses." He made it sound like a chore but it wasn't and the truth, even now, stung.

Oh. "Hell, I'm sorry... I was just..." Sloane swallowed, feeling embarrassed for having assumed the usual big brother attitude from him towards his siblings. And sorry he'd lost his mother so young.

"It's okay, Col..." he paused and met her gaze. "Can I call you Sloane."

Well, okay. Those weren't shivers running down her spine at hearing her name pass his lips. "Please." It occurred to her that she had never uttered his first name. "I heard your father call you Jay last night. You prefer that to Jacob?"

Now he actually laughed. "Jake," he said, realising that they hadn't ever got this far, to formally introducing themselves. "Everyone calls me Jake. Only the old man calls me Jay."

"Jake it is then." She smiled and then looked down at her hands resting in her lap, fighting off a wave of shyness. Yeah, her. Shy. Chuckling at herself, she looked up again. "I'm sorry. You must think I'm pretty pathetic."

She couldn't ignore what most people thought of her... that image of the MACO commanding officer, that Battle Bitch. She was certain he had his own version of her, in his head. Of what she should be. Did she live up to it? That's the bit she had learned to care less about but, a few years ago, she wouldn't have ever opened herself to ridicule like that but now, well... hell, it was like things clicked with him. One thing after the other. From a shithole to his embrace to stealing Xindi rides to a beer and a damned picnic. Easy peasy. It flowed somehow, as tentative as it was. But it still made her head spin a little. "I'm not really used to this..."

Definitely a woman.

He stared at her for a moment, listening as she tried to convey what she needed, putting herself out there, trying to reach him (god knew why). Jake had been hit on before by women. He wasn't blind to the fact that he attracted them but it was when they wanted to save him from his chosen state of being that he balked and that's why paying for it became easier.

"Neither am I," he answered, meeting her gaze. "I can't get your scent out my head. That's pathetic."

It was like time stopped for a second or two. "You can't?" No, Sloane didn't find that pathetic... not any more pathetic than her melting at him admitting it.

And her inner voice got rolling: That thing between you two the night before, well fuck me running, it's here today too, sister. Question is, what are you gonna do about it?

Aw, bloody shush, will ya.

She broke into a smile of relief and of embarrassment at feeling so damn relieved, all rolled into one. Impulsively, she pulled away from her comfy spot against the tree to lean forward some, her hand reaching for his knee. "Maybe a bit pathetic then..." She smirked. "Does it make it better if I tell you I kinda like it?" A lot. She felt the warmth of his skin beneath her palm through the jeans and she liked the contact. In fact, she'd missed it big time since Azati Prime.

He felt her hand on his knee and straightened up, sitting up right as his hand wrapped over hers. Her skin was so soft, so inviting like the last time and he hung to her, his large hand in her slender one. "It does." It was nice to know that she was just as affected that they had met in middle ground somewhere. The only thing was, now what?

Her gaze dropped and Sloane turned her hand in his, her palm meeting his touch. Her heart echoed in her own ears when she looked up again, meeting those blue eyes of his. The play of shadows the sun rays made as they filtered through the tree leaves, the park getting busier with people coming out to enjoy the day, the breeze that was drying Mercer's hair rather quickly, all that seemed to disappear in the moment.

Aware that the ball was truly in his court, he leaned forward, closing the distance and meeting her lips in a soft yet chaste kiss. The scent of her overpowered him again, as it had every day since their island adventure. Soft, delicate, belying the tough reputation of the Lt. Colonel. He couldn't believe he was here, he wasn't certain if he was fucking crazy for doing this. He only knew that at this particular moment in time, it seemed right. He'd work the rest out later.

When he kissed her, Sloane realised one thing. "I'd been waiting for this..." she whispered when she slowly pulled back to nuzzle his cheek lightly. She'd been waiting for this since that damn shithole, if she was honest with herself. Every fibre of her being was urging her to lean in, crawl into his lap, in his arms and get to know his sexy mouth. She settled for another taste of his lips, soft as he had been, sweet.

Had he been waiting for this? No, not really. However, he'd be lying if he said that it didn't linger in the back of his mind, a question to an answer he already knew but had no desire to acknowledge. When she said that, the chaste kiss became more intense, allowing him to explore the invitation her lips provided. He threaded his fingers through her dark hair, admitting to himself that he had yearned to feel those soft strands in his fingers tips from the first.

Her lips parted, inviting him in. A soft moan escaped her throat at the feelings he awakened in her. Her eyes closed, she was glad she was sitting down on the grass and not trying to stay on her feet as the world seemed to tilt. She responded to his intensity, her hand tightening its hold on his, loving his mouth on hers.

"Watch out!"

The intruding warning caused Sloane to pull back and, dazed, she nearly missed the football heading their way. "Duck!" she told Mercer, getting to her knees to catch the blasted thing.

If there was one thing he knew how to react to, it was something coming at him fast. When he heard the word duck, he tilted right, ensuring that the ball, Frisbee what ever the hell the projectile was, flew over his shoulder. If not, someone was going to get an ass kicking. He didn't care if it was a ten year old kid.

Little fuckers who interrupted his make out sessions should die whatever the age.

Adjusting her position, Sloane caught the ball with an oomph and rolled with it, chuckling as she got back up. Mr. Happy looked royally pissed and, while she didn't want him to think she was laughing at him, she couldn't keep a straight face. She threw the ball back to some spotty teenager, who had warily approached the couple, and kneeled back down, still smiling widely.

Standing up and noting her expression diffused his annoyance a little but as the kid approached, Jake crooked a finger at the young man and beckoned him over. The teenager, acne riddled dork he was, didn't know whether to run or approach but in the end opted for the latter, confident that murder couldn't be committed over a ball. Right?

"Uhm sorry," he stammered.

Giving him the intense stares that had reduced many a grunt to slobbering wrecks, Jake replied. "Next time you get the ball back, the hard way," he replied, grinning inwardly.

Wound tight didn't begin to sum up Mercer, Sloane decided, amused at his reaction. Even after a big fat spliff, she guessed he wouldn't even be half as relaxed as an air traffic controller on a bad day. "Jake, you thirsty?" she inquired, trying to beckon the man back to her before he rearranged the kid's face.

"Scram," he told the kid and turned to her. "Coffee?" He said hopefully, the look in his eyes danced with mischief as Acne Boy ran for the hills.

"You're a nasty bugger, Jake Mercer," Sloane let out, amused, as she started rummaging in the hamper she'd brought. She pulled out a shiny thermos and turned to him with a look of triumph on her face. Of all the things she had contemplated adding to the pile of goodies, coffee was the one she'd nearly marked off the list. She got two cups out and handed him one. "Here. Take anything with it?"

It was tempting. Hair of the dog and all but for some reason, Jake had no desire for Sloane to peg him the same as his old man. He liked getting drunk but he knew how to stop drinking when it was necessary and never, ever did the need for a drink rule him. "Coffee's fine," he said, glancing at the young man walking far, far away. "And nasty is fun." He gave her a little smirk.

Grinning, Sloane canted her head. She liked that look on him. The smirk, the half-smile. She certainly hadn't seen it back on the NX or on Azati Prime. Not quite understanding his reply in relation to the coffee - and chalking it down to the fact she'd probably miss a word or two while she was busy discovering him in a new light - she shook her head. "I meant milk, sugar... with the coffee?"

Shit. She probably thought he had a one track mind. "Oh," he offered her a little shrug and then answered, "just black is good. I need it to stay awake." And also because real Sharks didn't have any thing pussy like sugar and milk in their coffee.

"Didn't get much sleep last night then..." She remarked casually as she opened the thermos and poured the dark, aromatic brew in his cup. That much was obvious. Then neither had she, but for different reasons surely.

"Had to make sure the old man didn't drown in his own puke," Jake replied, seeing no reason to lie. She wasn't blind to what she had seen and after they had crossed the line of intimacy a moment ago, he had invited her into his life. If she was game for that, she'd have to deal with the baggage that came with it. Warts and all would decide how this was going to go.

There was no point asking him if that happened often, given she'd seen his father around Fabien propping up the bar plenty of times. "How does he cope when you're deployed?" She poured herself a cup and screwed the cap back on the container before crossing her legs. Her hands wrapped around her drink, she looked up at him as she brought it to her lips. Maybe a neighbour kept an eye out, but then again, what had Old Man Mercer done all these years before his surviving son had come from Acheron to find him?

"I don't know," Jake shrugged. "Probably no different than how he did before I found him on Gaia, I suppose." Jake could have left him to his own devices but there was too much of the memory Isaiah had been on Earth left in Jake for him to do that. A part of him hoped maybe he could get that man back... and a part of him was sorry he ever found him in the first place.

With his words confirming what she had just thought herself, Sloane didn't know what to say. Had the man even stopped drinking a moment when eldest son had reappeared in his life? She didn't think so but she wasn't going to ask. Mercer had been a lot more candid about this than Sloane had anticipated but she didn't want to push. She had always been rather private herself. It still bled in how she related with others. "If you need to sleep..." she let trail, wanting to give him an out. It was obvious that he wanted to see her - he hadn't hesitated her in showing her as much - but she'd understand if he'd rather catch up on sleep.

"I will...later," Jake replied, eyeing her and thinking about what they had been doing when 'Acne and Almost Got Football Rammed in Ass' boy had interrupted them. "What about you?" He asked, shifting the conversation away from his father. He preferred other people do the talking and Jake felt like he had exhausted his vocabulary quotient for the whole month already.

"Me? I slept fine, thanks." She gave him a smirk, guessing he was probably asking about her own folks, life and whatnot. "I had three brothers. Dad was an architect and mum an anthropologist. Very bookish household..." She wrinkled her nose.

So she'd lost too and a hell of a lot more than he had. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, thinking this was why he didn't wallow in his grief like the old man because everyone had lost someone. How they handled it was a testament to the kind of person they were. That she handled it, losing as many as she did, said a lot about her. Eyes filled with admiration. "Never easy is it, remembering them."

"No," she replied frankly, a sad smile on her face. "You'd think that after all this time, it would." She sighed, letting her gaze pan across the park before settling back on him. "I've come to realise that what is making it worse - at least for me - is not knowing why them and not me." She swallowed thickly but then smiled, remembering the past. "Bowie, the baby, would have turned out a brilliant scientist. Everyone knew that. He used to walk around the place, spurting out equations and calling normal household things by their chemical compositions since he could bloody talk. Used to annoy the hell out of my father. Bowie'd just gotten accepted into Oxford..." Sloane shrugged. "Wasn't your dad pleased to see you?" she couldn't help but ask.

He understood her then. On a very personal level, he understood her. He understood that she had chose to live for them because that was the best way to honour their memory. It was brave and admirable and he wished he had as much guts as she did. He had done the opposite, closed himself off and some times, though not often enough, he wondered if he wasn't just a little bit of a coward for doing that. "Yeah, he was but 12 years on his own, it took its toll."

"True." Her reaction was polite but deep down she felt like grabbing his dad by the collar and give him a shake. Then again, it was easy to feel that way. She couldn't possibly understand what losing a child - or many - could do to a parent. "Parents aren't supposed to outlive their children," she summed up simply.

"Yeah," he nodded, thinking about Ely and Joey, they were his brothers, he didn't mind being the oldest because he had a hand in raising them. "But they shouldn't forget the ones they have either."

Sloane grimaced, feeling horrified she might have implied to Mercer that his father's behaviour was excusable. "Of course not," she let out quickly, reaching out to him again, squeezing his thigh.

Her touch drove the dark thoughts away from him. "It's okay." he reached for her hand and held it in place. "It's my problem." Looking at her, she drove them away with her attempts to understand. "So, you do this a lot, picnics?" He asked in an effort to change the subject.

Holding his gaze for a second, Sloane recognised his need to move on and allowed him that even though she would have liked to tell him he should never consider his father's situation as 'his' problem. That was terribly unfair, especially given that he'd already done so much for his family whilst growing up.

Glancing around at her set up, she smiled. "I try. Some friends reintroduced me to it a while back and, well, after spending so much time in space, it's nice to plant your feet on the grass every once in a while."

"Yeah, I can relate," Jake replied. "Used to do the outdoor thing a lot when I was younger. Not so much now," he admitted. With that same half smile, he met her eyes and added, "Though I could get used to it again."

"You could?" Sloane didn't hide the fact she was pleased with that. "I'd certainly enjoy the company." Her hand squeezed his leg underneath his palm. "To be honest, I really wasn't sure you'd come..."

He had to be honest. "I wasn't sure I would either." He knew he wanted to but he was also concerned about the can of worms it opened. "This is new for me."

"I think I get that," she said, sort of recognising herself from three years ago in him today. In parts at least.

"It's been a long time," he said honestly, "I've been..." he searched for the words. "Disconnected for a long time."

Maybe she recognised herself in him from a lot further back than three years then. More like when she'd been transferred to the NX herself. She was totally, unequivocally disconnected then. Then she'd met Gabe. Nodding, Sloane put her coffee down and captured his hand between both hers. She moved it palm up, palm down, studying the size difference with her own, the calluses, scars, the short but tidy nails (for a Shark). "I'm in no hurry," she said, after a moment, looking up to meet his gaze.

And once again, Jake found himself in uncharted territory. He wanted her, not just as a one night stand he could forget later. But really wanted her, to know her, to wake up with that scent driving him crazy but he also understood his limitations. "I... not going to be easy," he admitted readily.

Sloane studied his face, tried to read his eyes. She thought she saw ambivalence there. "You're trying to scare me off?" she asked, partly teasing.

"I'm trying to give you a running start," he replied, thinking that this was insane. She was going to get him killed. Or he was going to get her in the same place. No good would come of this but then again, nothing fun was ever innocent.

"Thanks, but I was thinking it's been rather easy so far." And by that she didn't mean him being easy... just them two, sort of finding each other and hanging on.

"Oh, I've been taking it easy on you," he smirked.

She could believe that. But hell, looking at him sitting there on the blanket, sunshine dancing on his skin, there was something about him. Something that reached out to her and she couldn't imagine not wanting a piece of it - hang-ups and all. "Don't think I'm all rosy..."

"Christ, I hope not," he said with a little smile. "PMS and bitchy, I can do but rosy?" He teased. "I may have to shoot myself or fuck some girl name Leather just to get it out my system."

"Nice." She pinched his leg in retaliation. She wondered idly how he'd come to know so much about PMS, what with coming from an all boys house and not done much dating. "I do have this pair of leather pants..." It was her turn to tease.

"Oh, now you're just being cruel," he smirked at her. "I'll hold you to those pants. Just so you know, I haven't done this in a fucking long time so I'm likely to be as insensitive an asshole as you can probably imagine. Just tell me when you have something to say. The game-playing is what pisses me off."

Him being an insensitive ass? Oh, she could imagine. She remembered that desert island when they'd first come ashore. Actually the first seven, eight hours they were stuck on it. Mercer had lost his asshole demeanour only once they'd holed up in the cave to escape Xindi capture. Asshole. Nah, that was probably a bit strong. But there had definitely been a 'back off' vibe from him. A strong one. Yet, here they were...

Thinking on what he was saying, Sloane nodded. "No games." They weren't her forte. Not after what had happened with Hayes. But then she knew she wasn't always as forthcoming as she should. A big pet peeve of Derick's. But she was getting better at it, or so she hoped. "Same goes for you. But Jake, I'm not always good at saying what needs to be said... at least not right away." He was warning her about his quirks, so should she. "You should know I'm working on it though. A year ago I came out of this relationship..." A wistful expression passed on her face for a moment. "It wasn't all bad but I know I wasn't necessarily making it easy. But I'm learning."

Not a sentimental man by any means, he reached for her, threading his fingers through hers as he leaned forward and kissed her again, mostly because she seemed to need it. "I guess we'll figure this out together."

Damned if she understood exactly what was going on and why it all seemed to click so easily, Sloane smiled against his mouth before returning his kiss with another. "You're obviously not always an insensitive asshole," she joked, appreciative of his ways. The man didn't give himself nearly enough credit.

"I'm out of practice," he admitted and then thought of the brothers he had helped raised, trying to figure out the things that went on in their heads. Big brothers had to be sensitive. He was attuned to Joey and Ely's moods but the last twelve years had eroded. He'd been thinking about Sloane McRae since that night on Azati and had come to the conclusion that he had at least to give this a shot. Maybe it would crash and burn but maybe it wouldn't. Truth was, he had no idea.

"So you keep saying." Sloane tried to reassure him with a smile. "I'm not looking for perfect." Hell, she hadn't been looking at all. "Just go with the flow?" That's what they had seemed to be doing until now. She hadn't even thought on how they could make this work, long distance. She just sensed it was right to try.

"Go with the flow," he nodded, easing back into the blanket, arms folded under his head as he looked at the sky above. "I can do that, Wilma."

With that, he extended his hand to her, pulling her down with him... to whatever came next.

..