Despacito (Slowly)

Layla knocked on the guys’s apartment door to be greeted by a very smiling Steven. She could tell the difference easily now, even before they opened their mouth, by the way they carried the body, at least on their facetime chats.

“Hi, Steven,” She greeted, only to be pulled in a big hug before she could say anymore.

“Luv! We missed you!” Steven was very happy, but when he let go of her, his expression was more subdued. “Why are you here now? I thought you said you wouldn’t come back to London in at least a month.”

“Yeah, well, something happened and I found myself with a bit more free time,” Layla said, trying to sound as casual as possible. The truth was that she was nervous about the news she was bringing and what it would mean for the boys. Even for the mysterious third that she had just found out existed and had given her the most romantic experience of her life.

“Oh? We have also news,” Steven actually giggled and showed her an USB he had been carrying on his pocket. “Marc and I pulled a heist!”

“A heist?” Now Layla was intrigued. Even more when, now inside the apartment, she saw Steven look away from her and into a mirror, the way she knew meant he was talking to Marc.

“Oh, I am so showing her, mate!” Steven replied to whatever Marc had said that Layla couldn’t hear. “She has to meet him, so to speak!”

And at that, Layla went from intrigued to excitedly curious. Because there was only one ‘him’ Steven could be talking about.

“You met him? When? What happened?” she asked coming closer to Steven. Sure, she also had to share her news, but this had to be connected.

It made sense.  But if she mentioned what she knew before they could share their news, she risked ruining the mood.

“His name is Jake,” Marc said, the switch even more seamlessly than the last time the three of them had been in the same place together. Layla smiled and took her husband’s hand as he spoke, surprised to find that he was trembling a bit. “He’s… something.”

“He actually talked to you?” Oh, she needed to hear that story. Especially as she had also googled the song this Jake had been singing to her boys. She wished she remembered all of the one he had singed to her, since she was now not convinced it had been completely platonic. Even if the third… Jake… hadn’t even kissed her.  “When? How? Why didn’t he show himself before?”

“He… didn’t talk much,” Marc looked away, not only from her but also managing to avoid every single mirror in his eyesight, as if he didn’t want to face Steven either. And, unless Layla now needed glasses, she could tell her husband was blushing. “I don’t need to tell her that!” He finished, obviously replying to Steven.

“Tell me what?” She smiled, sitting on the chair nearest to the desk where the boys kept Steven’s laptop as she figured the USB Steven had shown him and that now Marc seemed desperate to hide had something to do with it.

“Look I… “ Marc took a deep breath. A bit too deep, so Layla figured he was also telling Steven something that was not for her ears. And she loved that, that the two men she had grown to love had managed to get past their terrible first meeting, and were now comfortable enough with each other and their very special situation as to indulge in their particular way of communication in front of her. “We’re going to show you. It’s… it’s better this way.”

And, as if he was afraid he’d lose his nerve, but clearly wanting to do it-something that Layla had only seen Marc do once, the day he had asked her to marry him- he opened the computer, shoved the USB in and opened a video file.

The footage was a little and in black and white. Obviously some security camera, that covered the whole of a storage room filled with Egypt-themed toys and gifts. She smiled a bit when she saw a bunch of plush Tawarets. She’d have to ask Steven to get her one. Her goddess -because she had to admit, the Avatar thing was getting to be more than just temporary- would love to see that children could get some comfort from her image even if they didn’t know her.  But the interesting thing was when she saw her beloved’s body enter the room. Immediately she knew that neither of them were fronting. The man fronting moved the body in a very different way from Steven or Marc. If Steven was a pretty house cat, soft and cuddly until you threatened his loved ones, and Marc a pouncing tiger that wouldn’t give you the chance to even threaten anyone he cared for, this man was a panther, moving with apparent ease, as his shoulders moved to an unheard melody, as if he had no real care or attention for the world outside whatever he was listening to… but Layla could see that there was danger in those movements. That the relaxation could turn into a defensive stance in a minute.

The body, Jake, as Marc had called him, was carrying a broom, half sweeping, half dancing with it. Once again, Layla was struck with how strange it was, those relaxed movements that were almost liquid. And she remembered how she had seen something similar, in a far more lethal stage. It was the same self-confidence that she had seen wearing the Suit in Cairo, when Harrow seemed to have beaten Marc and Steven. Only, he was not coiled to attack now.

After a few minutes where she could see that Jake was having fun dancing with the broom, he suddenly stopped, and looked up directly at the camera, smiling. It was an expression that Layla remembered very well, the same look Jake had had seconds before he started serenading her. But then his eyes rolled back, and his body became stiff and confused. She looked up at Marc, who was most definitely trying not to look at the video even if his eyes were glued to the screen. So probably Steven was controlling that.  So that was Marc on the video now. At least for a moment, as he glared at one of the posters in the walls.

“You wrestled the body from him?” she asked, but Marc shook his head, silently telling her to keep watching.

On the screen, the body relaxed, even if the head was still glaring at the poster. And his shoulders started moving, again, to music she couldn’t hear.  It was Jake controlling it again, but she figured he was letting Marc see and feel everything? Because then there was again that cocky smile, and she bit her lips as she saw Jake put his hand over his stomach, his other hand up high, in a pose she had seen before at ballrooms.

And then she saw her husband’s body move in a way she had never seen it move. Fluid, sensual, as he stepped and gyrated around the empty storage room. A couple of times he turned as if he was dipping his invisible dance partner, and when he was in the right angle of the camera, Layla could see that he was mouthing the words to the song she couldn’t hear, his eyes closed.

And then, then it was over, as Jake -because that was definitely Jake, looked up again at the camera -obviously fully aware that it was there- , winked at it… and then blew a kiss towards it before his eyes rolled back and it was once again obvious that the man who stumbled out of the dancing pose was her husband, breathing hard and blushing everywhere she could see.

“That…” She blinked and looked at Marc. Well, Steven now, who was literally fanning himself. Apparently, at some point of the video Marc had decided he couldn’t keep watching. “That was something.”

“I hadn’t seen the whole thing either,” Steven confessed. “Marc wouldn’t let me.”

“So… he knew the cameras were there,” She pointed out. “He wanted you to see how… how he is?”

“I think so, Marc… he doesn’t agree,” Steven took a deep breath then smiled shyly at her. “He says Jake just wanted to show off… he just told Marc his name and then left to wherever he lives within our mind space.”

Layla looked back at the video and skipped back 15 seconds to see Jake’s confident wink and kiss to the screen.

“Marc is listening, right?” She asked, and Steven nodded. She took a deep breath, ready to tell them what had brought her to London. The timing was too perfect.  He had to be trying to communicate with the other two since he was now free from Khonshu too. “Ok… so… the reason I’m here is because Tawaret told me that Khonshu went back to the Overvoid… She said… he’s surrendering to their judgment over his actions.”

Steven blinked. Then, almost imperceptibly his expression changed into one she had never seen before.

“¡¿Qué el pájaro hizo qué?!”

Layla hesitated a bit too long to call Jake’s name, since she was too surprised to actually hear him out loud, fronting despite him having kept his existence secret for so long. Unfortunately, that pause was enough for him to get his bearing back and she could see clearly how his eyes clouded and it was now Marc back on the driving seat.

“He did what?”

*          *          *

“!Estúpido Pajarraco mentiroso!” Jake aventó la botella de tequila que tenía en la mano contra la pared de su espacio privado en el mundo interno, su pequeña esquina donde podía esconderse de Steven y Marc, juntando valor para presentarse ante ellos.

Author note: Sorry, sorry. Translation effect kicks a bit slow when we change to Jake’s point of view. Remember, he doesn’t think in English so I need to make that clear. I will add the translation to this whole paragraph at the end.

He had promised. Khonshu had promised he would not get himself trapped in stone, and yet, he had gone behind Jake’s back when everything was starting to actually work out for him, even if Marquitos was still not completely sold on him. It wasn’t fair!

He couldn’t be going to those cobardes pendejos del Ennead, not without his Avatar -or at least a third of his Avatar- to back him up. But he had. And he had lied to Jake because… well, apparently because he didn’t want Jake backing him up.  

And here he had thought that el buitre liked him better than the other two. Big joke.

A new tequila bottle materialized in his hands, and Jake took a long, long drink. He doubted he could get drunk with mind-tequila, but he was not going to wrestle the body from his amores. Not when Layla was there, not when they were somewhat happy.  So he was going to try his damnest or his name wasn’t Jacobo Lockley Grant Spector -hopefully  El-Faouly one day-.

As he drank, he started shaking.  He knew, all too well, that neither Steven nor Marc trusted Khonshu. After all, the old bird had lied them through omission a lot and, due to the stress caused by Harrow, had been less than nice. Especially to Steven.  

But he had been the first friend Jake had ever had who wasn’t Marc or Steven’s friend first. The first being with whom Jake hadn’t had to pretend to be anything more or less than what he was. The first being who had ever seen Jake.

And he had promised Jake he’d be back. Fat chance.

Because the Ennead were nothing if not prideful and even if Khonshu, Taweret, Layla and them had saved the maldito mundo… they would remember that Khonshu embarrassed them. That he had told them to act, and because they hadn’t listened, they had almost been destroyed and lost all their avatars, some of whom had been with them for centuries.  They would not let Khonshu come back.

And Jake would never be able to convince the others to help his estúpido Piolin momificado.

By the time he was in his third bottle of mind-tequila, Jake was openly crying. And because he had nothing except his music to keep him company, he started to sing.

Hace dias perdi

En alguna cantina

La mitad de mi alma

Mas el quince de propina…