Archive of Our Own ^beta

The secret is out now, at least to the one person it matters most. Frankly, Ethan’s glad it went over as well as it did; Brandt would’ve had every right to knock his lights out and toss him directly into the bay. Before they part, Ethan suggests spending a few more days here. They all deserve the rest, and it’s a beautiful city. They could hang out, have another beer, get to know each other. He’d text Brandt later about it.

And to his credit, Brandt doesn’t immediately shrug off the idea, just wags his new secret Team Ethan-only burner phone at him like a halfway salute with a charmingly, tiredly lopsided smile and heads off.

As Brandt disappears into the foggy night, Ethan pulls out his own phone and types in a number he’s memorized like a tattoo on his heart, plugging away at a text message: How long are you in town?

When Brandt shows up at the hotel the text had directed him to, Ethan’s already waiting for him, clapping him on the arm and showing him up. They make idle chatter, something Brandt’s never been great at, but he’s been doing a bit of sightseeing between sleep and updates and reports. There’s been a lot to catch the interim Secretary up on, the deputy having been given an unceremonious promotion until the Senate council can officially appoint a new one. Brandt hasn’t shaken off the mission entirely, the way the guilt eats at him. Croatia might be healing over given the revised history he has of the events, but protecting the Secretary was his job, one that he spectacularly failed at. And the adrenaline of the mission itself—going rogue, catching Ethan from over a hundred floors up, nearly tossing the briefcase out the window, getting caught out by Ethan later for his field skills, the jump, the oven, Benji’s timely rescue—had long since worn off, but he swears it all comes flooding back every time he thinks about it.

And he finds he doesn’t hate the feeling when he peels away the awful, bruised parts. Enough to request being put back in the field? Well, that one he still has to sit on, roll around, feel out. But maybe. Maybe so. As long as there aren’t any more big surprises…

Which is when, of course, Ethan opens the door to the hotel room to find Julia standing there before them in the flesh, smiling bright at the pair.

Brandt needs a hand pressed between his shoulders to actually get the hint to step inside so the door can close. He smiles in a way that’s more of a twitch than a flash, looking between the two in a manner that he knows shows off his confusion.

“Julia,” Ethan says, sliding to her side as she casually pulls him into a side hug, “this is William Brandt, a damn fine agent who just helped save the world that’ll never know it needed saving.” Ethan shows off his own brilliant smile. “Brandt, I think you already know Julia.”

She extends a hand, and Brandt, polite, gives it a shake and a much more plastered on smile. “It’s always good to get to meet one of his friends. Thank you,” Julia adds with a measure of weight to the words, “for all your hard work.”

Before Brandt has the chance to say anything in kind, Ethan leans in surreptitiously to speak in Julia’s ear, watching his teammate the whole time. “He’s also one of the men responsible for keeping us safe in Croatia.”

Her face does something complicated. Surprise, first, and then some kind of understanding, and then—well, then she fucking laughs, bringing a hand up to her mouth. “Oh my god. Oh my god, thank you so much, I am...so sorry about that. That must have been—” She half-turns to her (ex?)husband and gives him a playful smack on the arm. “Offer the man a drink, Ethan!”

And her laughter and Ethan’s laughter damn well makes Brandt start laughing, too, even if in some incredulity. It doesn’t make a dam break, but it does feel like something solid gets dislodged, the air a little less suffocating for it. This doesn’t feel allowed in any regard, but it must be safe to be here if the lovebirds are risking being seen together. He raises a hand to stop Ethan from going for...the bottle of wine already ordered and chilling in an ice bucket. Which means they were already planning on meeting up. Which means he was also already part of the plan. Interesting...very interesting.

He clears his throat, smiling in a small and damn near bashful way, confused but delighted in his own manner. “That’s fine. Really, it’s fine now, we talked it out. Got a ways to go undoing some of the damage, maybe, but meeting you…” Actually getting to meet her for real, not just seeing her in passing through windows and from a distance, from binoculars and from security cameras. To see the way her hair falls around her shoulders and face as she shakes her head, the beautiful curl to her smile. He can see how Ethan got to be charmed by her. And it does wonders for all the little aches and pains still present, still healing.

Maybe that’s the reason for this. To help kickstart that healing process. Nothing like a nurse to administer some ointment and bandages for reopened wounds.

“...Well, it’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it. It’s a privilege, Ms Meade.”

Her eyes sparkle at his formality, and she looks over at Ethan. And then they start doing some very wordless communication. He’s seen Ethan do this on and off, a series of head nods and facial contortions that seem to convey a damn lot more to someone he was married to rather than trying to be more obvious with the team.

The furrow starts to form between Brandt’s brows again, feeling oddly singled out here, and he makes a helpless gesture toward the door. “I should probably let you two catch up…?” It comes out much more like a question than he intends it to.

Julia turns back, resting a hand on his arm. “No, Will—can I call you Will? William?”

“Uh.” After being Brandt for so long, it’s almost a shock to hear someone relatively within the IMF’s circle call him by first name. “Will is fine.”

“Will, you should stay. Ethan invited you, and I got us wine, and it’d be nice to get to know you better.” She and Ethan exchange another couple of indecipherable Looks. There’s a moment where she looks akin to exasperated (something he is more than familiar with when it comes to dealing with Ethan) and pats Brandt on the arm again, refocused on her guest. “So.” An auspicious start as her expression slides toward mischievous. “How many times did you watch us fuck in Croatia?”

Ethan chokes, and his chiding voice is full of laughter instead of scandal as he does not at all waver in his wine pouring. “Jules-!”

“What! Was that not the signal? You were giving the signal!”

Brandt feels like his brain has shut down, and he knows it’s a good thing he doesn’t have any glass in his hand right now. “I.” Very articulate. Fantastic job. “Um.” What the hell is going on right now? “That’s-” He coughs, clears his throat, tips his head in a confused jerk as his eyes scream bewilderment and his smile screams awkward. But where he knows the prudent thing to do would be to deny such a thing ever happened, the prudent part of him has taken a hike during the reboot. “It wasn’t like it was only me on the team, ma’am.” ...is what comes out of his mouth to his belated horror.

Julia rests a hand over her heart as she accepts a drink from her (ex???)husband. “Awww,” she coos, “he ma’am’d me. You never ma’am me.”

“I didn’t know you liked that.” Ethan holds two more glasses, presses a kiss to her temple, and holds one out to Brandt. “Ma’am.”

“Mm, nope, too late now, he’s the ma’am-er; you’ll just have to fall back on old reliables.”

Brandt does not take the proffered drink. “I’m...not sure I know what’s going on here. If this is a hazing, consider me hazed. I’m sorry there were cameras to keep watch and views through wind—”

“Yeah, we knew there were cameras and views, Will, that’s why I asked,” and this time she steps closer and presses a glass against his chest with a certain gleam in her eyes, a parting to her lips, that reminds him of the way she would look at Ethan on those days, like she was thirsting in a desert and him the only source of water for miles, “about you watching us fuck.” He takes the glass on autopilot, because he is at a loss to know what else to do with his hands. She is staring him in the eye, and he’s keenly aware of Ethan’s presence hovering just over her shoulder as she takes the glass he’d been holding out and takes a brief sip. It wets her lips just so, distracting. Deliberately. “I know we got particularly frantic about it in the last couple days leading up to the end. Having a deadline made it feel that much more intense.”

Brandt swallows without ever taking a drink. She watches the bob of his throat momentarily, and suddenly he looks up sharply at Ethan, because if she’s asking a question like that in front of her situationship, then what the hell is he making of all of this?

And what he sees nearly takes him out at the knees.

Ethan has given him a lot of different looks over the course of their time together, some of which could even be described as heated, but he’s never seen this before. Hungry is the word that comes to mind. A deep, smoldering desire that, when paired with Julia’s appreciative gaze brushing over him, paints a very heady picture. He’s never felt so much like prey before. And he’s never enjoyed the feeling as much as he does right now.

“I think what she’s asking is how much you liked what you saw,” Ethan oh so unhelpfully supplies, quiet, intense. He’s watching. Putting his skills to use taking in every sharp inhale, every microexpression, every blink to catalogue and decipher.

Brandt had never said anything about it, what he did or did not see, what he did or did not look too closely at. He had felt embarrassed at the time, guilty, for what had seemed at the time to be voyeuristic unwitting porn, for paying more attention than he had to, for feeling other things he had to push down. Things he isn’t pushing down so hard on right now.

“I’m asking what you’d like us to do with you.”

Ethan smiles at his partner’s bluntness and takes a drink, and Brandt can’t help but think it’s the sharp grin of a predator, teeth primed for biting, a thought that gets away from him thinking about what else that mouth and those teeth and those lips might get up to and where Julia’s hands are going to end up and oh no, oh shit, this is dangerous.

How long has his mouth been dropped open?

He rectifies that with a long drink of his own, tipping the glass back and neatly emptying it in one go. It’s just enough time to start analyzing the possibilities and the consequences, and just enough time to tell the analytical side of his brain to shut the entire fuck up for once.

“If this is going to be the death of me, I can think of worse ways to go.”

Julia smiles big enough to crinkle her eyes as she grabs a handful of his shirt to pull him down into an intoxicating kiss that has nothing to do with the wine. Ethan laughs in a way he can feel more than hear when the man tucks up alongside him and presses that wolfish grin to his neck, a hand settling low on his back.

And Brandt lets something besides guilt devour him for tonight.