"A Midsummer Night's Hangover"
Dedicated to Orwell is watching
Disclaimer: If I owned "The Cape," I'd probably be feeling pressured to include Dales and/or Vinwell, so I guess it's probably a good thing that I don't.
Vince, decked out in his civilian wear (complete with baseball cap and hoodie to hide his face), sat down next to his partner at the bar and frowned.
"That's not your first beer is it?" Orwell shook her head and took a sip of beer before replying.
"You know, you shouldn't drink alone."
"Well, it's not my fault that somebody was too busy to drink with me." She finished her bottle and signaled the bartender for another before Vince could stop her. She knew it was a bad idea to get plastered in front of Vince. The last thing she wanted was to blurt out her feelings accidentally.
It certainly wasn't her fault that she'd fallen for him. God, but he was cute! And if that wasn't bad enough, he was a really great guy. He stood up to her father; protected the city; even "dead" he did what he could to be there for his son, and he loved his wife. She took a long pull from the bottle. She knew only his fake death kept him from Dana. She'd met the attorney; Dana was a good woman and probably did deserve Vince, but Jamie kind of hated her for having had what she couldn't.
Perhaps if she'd met someone else in the bar and they hit it off… But that wasn't about to happen. No one, besides Vince, knew who she was, and Vince still didn't know the half of it. She felt kind of guilty about that.
"Come on, Orwell. Let's get you home," Vince said. He placed a few bills down on the bar and started guiding his partner out of the bar and into the warm June night. She blinked slowly and gazed up at him. Vince was always the hero. No; damn it, it was that type of thinking that could lead her to make an embarrassing confession in her inebriated state…
"Fleming's my father."
…Okay, she hadn't thought that that confession was on the tip of her tongue. What the hell? Vince had frozen. Fortunately, he was still supporting her weight. Shock illuminated his eyes briefly, before his face went blank.
"This really isn't the right place to have this conversation," he managed to say at last. Then he took the keys to her Porsche and drove her home.
He helped her inside and hesitated. It would probably be better to have this conversation with her sober… But then, she'd kept her mouth shut while she was sober. This might be his only chance to get some straight answers out of her.
"What's this about Fleming being your father?" Orwell nodded.
"Yeah, it's true," she said, slurring slightly. "That's why I talked you into saving him from that bitch, Dice. Couldn't let her kill daddy," she grabbed onto Vince's shirt suddenly. "Vince, you wouldn't kill daddy, would you?"
"Promise me! Promise me you won't!"
"Okay, okay! I won't kill Fle, er, your father." She relaxed and let go of his shirt.
"Good. Knew you wouldn't. You're too nice a guy, Vince. Not like dad. He's kind of evil, isn't he? But you don't get to choose your family. Wish you could. Trip and Dana are so lucky to have you."
"What's your real name?"
"Oh. It's Jamie. Not Julia." She tried to shrug. "Do you like it? It's not that I don't like my name; I just been trying to keep it a secret, you know?"
"Even from me," Vince sighed.
"I know. I shouldn't have. I trust you, Vince. I do. You're a good partner—" She yawned. "I'm sleepy."
"I can see that. I'll let you get some sleep and drop by and see how you're doing in the morning, okay?" She started to nod and then lay down on her bed. She was out like a light in less than a minute.
She was puking when Vince slipped into her place in the morning. Never again, she vowed silently. Vince waited for her to emerge from the bathroom and offered her a bottle of Gatorade.
"Bless you," she murmured, before gratefully accepting the energy drink.
"How much of last night do you remember, Jamie?" The blogger froze.
"I told you my name?"
"And your father's," Vince added. Shit.
"Uh, Vince, I'm sorry. I should've told you before—"
"Damn right you should have. We've been partners for months, Orwell! I've trusted you with everything from day one but you needed to get hammered to tell me your name?"
"You have every right to be angry…"
"And I am. But not because of whom your father is. That's what you were afraid of, right? That's why you wouldn't tell me. I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe not when we first met, but…" He sighed. "I still hate him, that hasn't changed. And I'm hurt, yeah, but I don't hate you. We're still partners. You've still got my back, right?" She nodded.
"You know it."
"Okay. I'll let your hangover do the rest of the yelling for me." He smiled at her before turning to go. She hoped he didn't see her eyes well up. She couldn't help it.
She loved her partner.
Author's Note: Title, of course, after Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream." I know the play was a comedy, unlike this fic, but it did involve love triangles, unrequited love and the pain it engenders. I'll stop now before I start quoting it.
Hope I'm not beating any horses to death with another reveal fic or anything. I may be a little obsessed with Vince finding out Orwell's identity, but that's because it should've happened in the show.
No beta. Quibble away.