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[Jack Trove]

Jack hovered outside the dark, grease-stained window of the Knight Pub, savouring the final, sweet seconds before he and Sophie made their entrance. Surprisingly, Malcolm Trove sat quite alone, an empty keg of beer before him. Jack had been expecting him to be accompanied by some stunning skank. Well, no matter. She’d turn up later.
But not before Jack had had the chance to make Mal sick with envy.
Sometimes, the wait was the best part. It was like the build-up of excitement before a game; the gathering adrenaline; the tense anticipation… nothing else was like that, nothing else was so equally frustrating and gratifying as the wait before a win.
Jack had been waiting for an opportunity like this for far too long.
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply… breathing it all in; taking it all in.
It didn’t matter now that it was Sophie with him, not Olivia. This had stopped being about the girls the second Mal had come into the equation. This was about Jack, and his brother.
Jack wanted to make his brother jealous.
Jack wanted to beat his brother, where he’d lost so many times before.
But it wasn't just about beating him, hell no, it wasn't enough to just beat him.
Jack wanted to impress him.
Jack… somewhere underneath it all… he just wanted to make his big brother proud.
Jack could only pray that he would make Mal proud.
His eyes opened, and Mal was still sitting there, just beyond the glassy barrier. Jack turned to Sophie, and nodded.
“Ready, then?"

[Jack Trove]

A strip of sunlight was thrown across the darkened room of the Knight Pub, and Jack could almost hear all the hisses of the vampire-like drunks sinking further into the comfort of the shadows. His brother was one of the few who did not draw back, but it was clear the light displeased him. Jack closed the door behind Sophie and him, and marched confidently forward towards the table.
Mal didn't even look up.
There was a pause, where, for just a second, Jack felt his confidence drop...
Just one.
"Hey, Little Brother."
"Hey, Mal," Jack grinned, a little in relief.
"Who's the girl?"
"Her name's Sophie," Jack said quickly, pulling her forward gently. "Sophie Mathieu."
There was a pause, before Mal raised his head to take Sophie in.

[Jack Trove]

Mal's roughly hewn, calloused fingers gripped Sophie's delicate palm with an unnecessary amount of strength. The contrast between both shakes was odd; Mal's grip was roughly ogre-like against her gentle dip.
"Hmmph," said Mal, letting go, and from what Jack could tell, trying not to look too impressed; but his eyebrows gave him away. They'd shot sky-high the second her purring accent left her lips.
The power of her French accent hadn't just made an impact on Mal. Several other men who a second ago had looked so out of it you could've dropped a bloody bomb beside their ears and they wouldn't have noticed had even turned around; suddenly wide-eyed and gaping. Apparently, pretty girls were all a guy needed to sober up.
Correction: Sophie was all that was needed to sober a guy up.
Jack, feeling his victory spread in a glowing smirk across his face, pulled out a chair for Sophie and himself, and as they sat down, his hand moved possessively- and tauntingly- to gently graze, then squeeze her thigh.
Mal caught the movement, and his eyes flashed at Jack for a second, before, to Jack's surprise, his lips relaxed into a casual smile.
"I'm a little confused, Jack. As stunning as she is-" a winning smile in Sophie's direction, "- didn't you say she was ginger?"

[Jack Trove]

Well, Jack wasn't nearly as talented in the art of acting as Sophie. It's why he wasn't a Spy. When it came to Spying; subtlety and secrecy was a necessary part of the job description. Like hell Jack possessed either of those qualities. He was an open book; with big fat lettering and pictures to boot- the kind thick kids who couldn't read were given before they hit six.
He could just feel the colour rushing to his cheeks...
With one sentence, Jack had felt something fizzle out between him and Sophie. With just one bloody sentence, Jack had lost his greatest weapon against his brother...
... but it wasn't just the weapon, was it? It was her, and that bothered Jack more than he'd expected it to.
Because, after all, he'd known all along he'd eventually lose her. Olivia was just waiting to crawl out of the woodwork. But he hadn't known it would be so... soon. He thought they had time. Weeks, even. He hadn't even grazed those sweet lips with his own yet...
Not yet...
The hurt at her tone of voice cut him like a dagger. It wasn't long. It wasn't complicated.
It just hurt.
"Jack?"
Maybe he could salvage this. He liked Sophie more than he realised. He liked her a lot.
Almost as if to reassure himself, and keep the fireworks sparkling between them, Jack's grip tightened, stumbling back up and down from her knee to thigh again. But it felt awkward- clumsy. It wasn't as natural as it had been.
"Someone was ginger," Jack shrugged. "But she's been gone a while now."
"Really?" Mal's eyes danced with a dark playful delight. "I thought you'd really liked that one?"
"I did."
"Why isn't she here then?"
Jack struggled for a few moments. The appropriate response was, "I like Sophie more." The trouble was, it wouldn't come.

[Jack Trove]

Finally- and he feared, far too late- Jack found his feeble tongue.
"Yeah. I've got her. And you said it yourself Mal: she's stunning."
The sudden lack of contact with Sophie unnerved him terribly. The second Sophie had met him in the halls up at the school, their fingers had interlinked, and he'd held onto her the whole way down. There'd always been some sort of contact between them; right up until now, when- brutally, in Jack's opinion- she'd moved her leg from his hand with a gentle, but firm message.
He was in trouble.
"She is stunning," Mal said, now thoroughly enjoying himself as he leaned forward across the table with almost a leer. "Really, really beautiful." His eyes flickered back to Jack. "Have you met Kelly yet?"
"No."
"She's fat," Mal said simply. "Not like your skinny star here. Kelly's a real pig. Got the nose and everything. But she's ginger- she's got great hair. Was your girl fat?"
"No."
"Awk, shame," Mal sighed. "You know, Jack, I reckon you and Sophie-"
"Mal," Jack muttered stonily, his eyes moving upwards to meet his brothers. "Is there any point in us... being here?"
"Of course."
"What is it?"
Mal looked a little surprised. It looked like the question he'd been least expecting. "Well, I wanted to see you, Little Brother."
Jack snorted. "Me, or how well I'd done for myself?"
"Both," Mal cackled that strange cackle that no matter how many times Jack heard it, he couldn't get accustomed to, "and she's effing bloody gorgeous. What more do you want?"
"Mal."
"Jack." His smile had always been a little condescending. At least that hadn't changed.
"What do you want?"

[Jack Trove]

Jack's answers weren't coming, and there was a slow dizzying feeling beginning to spread through his head. He guessed it was the cold shoulder he was getting from Sophie. It wasn't... an... obvious one... she wasn't being rude. That wasn't Sophie. She was the kind of person who could made crudeness seem classy. If she swore, she'd be setting a fashion; and they'd be doing it all over France within a week- even in the heart of the snobbiest places in Paris.
Sophie was good like that.
The subtlety of it got to him, because although it wasn't obvious... it... was- at least to Mal. And with her hand now free from Jack's, she was- to all the other men in the bar- a free woman, and they could come onto her as they pleased. Several of them certainly seemed to be mulling it over, but he supposed that he and Mal's rugby physique would be putting them off.
Girls- even pretty ones- weren't worth getting your arse kicked for.
Outright rudeness would be easy to deal with. But the statement Sophie's sudden solitude made was much harder to cope with. Jack could feel the beads of sweat on his brow; he was trapped between Sophie and his brother.
He wished one would look away, but they wouldn't stop smirking.
He wished the other would squeeze his hand and give him courage- but that was out of the question. They wouldn't acknowledge his existence.
Mal's tongue flicked over his bottom lip; like he was savoring the moment. "I did write about the why in my letter to you, Little Brother."
Jack stiffened immediately. "Oh."
"The business," Mal nodded expectantly. "Oh, yes. Don't expect to get out of that so easy. You may've gone home early after Christmas, but Dad's been going round the different chains and stuff... trying to find you a job, he is." He nodded at Sophie. "He's found something for you in France, ironically."
"I don't speak French."
"Well, you'd bloody learn, wouldn't'ya?!" snorted Mal. "Sophie there could teach you- doesn't she speak the bloody language?! Besides, mate- " suddenly, his eyes narrowed, "- between you and me, your d@mned lucky he's trying for you. He says he'll get you a better spot than me if you just pay him back."
A thrill of fear ran down Jack's spine, but he cleared his throat to conceal his discomfort. "Pay him what? Isn't he bloody rich enough already?"
Mal leaned back incredulously. "F*ck's sake, don't be so bloody cheeky. Pay him back the d@mned money you stole. I'm here to get it. So- give it."

[Jack Trove]

Mal looked nothing short of shocked at Sophie's sudden interruption. After all, women didn't get involved in family business. Their mum certainly didn't. She just sat there, with her mouth slightly open, sucking on the odd bottle of the gin. She didn't have the wit to interfere half the time. She was too outta her mind.
Then, recovering himself within a matter of seconds, Mal fixed her with a smooth smile- but it was a smile just as patronizing as the one he often presented Jack with.
"I don't expect you to understand, Sophie," he said, with a faked tenderness that set Jack's teeth on edge. "But this is, you know, the family business. Strictly confidential, I'm afraid."
The restoration of Sophie's hand to his own was like a drowning man being thrown a rope when he thought all hope was lost. In his eagerness; he nearly crushed Sophie's fingers in his, and then, guiltily, loosened his grip as Mal was talking.
"It's hardly confidential," Jack snorted. "And I didn't steal any money. I was given it."
The muscles in Mal's smile slackened slightly. "F*cking cheek."
"Mum gave it to me."
"F*cking lies."
The closer he drew to Sophie, the more his confidence grew. Jack's chair scraped loudly across the dusty floor as he moved it against hers; both his arms snaking around her waist and holding her tight, all the while not letting go of her hand. He inhaled quickly, the rush of her perfume twirling as it swept through him.
It was like a breath of fresh air.
"Mum gave it to me," Jack repeated smoothly, his eyes never leaving Mal's face. "It was a Christmas present."
"Mum gave you nothing," Mal growled. "Dad asked her- she gave you sod all."
"I'm telling the truth. Anyway; it doesn't matter now. I spent it."
The pressure around Sophie's waist tightened.

[Jack Trove]

It was a wonderful suggestion, it really was.
It just wasn't going to go down well.
Jack later realized, with hindsight, that he really had no right to bring Sophie down there with him that day. She had become involved in a fight where no girl should ever have to find herself- a war, between brothers. Malcolm Trove was rising to his feet, and he looked like he had absolutely no intention of calming down.
"On what did you spend it, dear Jack?" Mal said; his tone still shockingly level, considering how much of the whites of his eyes had been revealed. "On... new clothes? Rugby? Her?"
The muscles in Jack's arms tightened defensively around Sophie waist. "It was a present from Mum, to me."
"And when did she give it to you?"
"When..." She was drunk. "When I was about to go home."
"Who wrote the cheque?"
Me. "Mum."
"You withdrew it pretty d@mn quickly."
Couldn't risk it getting taken away from me. "I was in a hurry to spend it."
"Jack," Mal gave in to one, last attempt at calm. "Where are you hiding the money?"
In my trunk, back at the school. "I told you," Jack said firmly, "I spent it."
Mal looked ready to explode.

[Jack Trove]

If Sophie had been a guy, she would've been flat on her arse the second the first vicious syllable left her lips. If Sophie had been a guy that was stupid enough to finish what he was saying from the floor... well, he wouldn't father any children, that was for sure.
Being a guy, Jack had his own concerns for that future family of his. That's what had held him back from any major confrontations with Mal growing up.
Being a girl, it was blindingly obvious Sophie didn't give a sh*t.
It was bloody terrifying.
Mal was... stunned. His popping eyes seemed to shrink back into his head at her glare; and the venom in her words had hit him a hell of a lot harder than he liked to let on. But Jack could see it. He didn't know how... but he could... tell...
Something within Mal withered at the sight of Sophie...
... because she was a girl?
Was that it?
Because she was a girl who stuck up for herself?
Was that it?
Because girls like Sophie just... shouldn't say things like that?
Was that it?
"Well, Jack," Mal cleared his throat, shaking his head, "not so pretty after all, is she?"

[Jack Trove]

The two Trove brothers had been raised together; by each other, and the many nannies who had come and gone according to their father's tightly-stretched wallet. When together, they were like animals. They fed off the adrenaline rushes that kept them running and fighting and breathing. And when with the nannies, maids and butlers, they learned their "morals".
Their "God's commandments".
Their "be a good boy"s.
Their "just like a little gentleman"s.
And other such varying forms.
Some were strict. Some were poorly upheld. But there was just about one rule (along with the ones about lying and picking their noses) that was universal with every single one.
Do not hit girls; even if they hit you first.
The thing was, this was one of the few rules the Trove brothers actually ever upheld, because no girl ever managed to get on their nerves. They avoided them as kids, under the impression they were cootie-ridden, and once they hit about 11, each soon learned that girls were incredibly nice to gape at.
And as they grew that little bit older, they became incredibly nice to date.
As it were, neither Trove had ever had any need, nor cause to hit out at a girl. As it were, girls never felt like a challenge. Sure, sometimes they shouted and said weird things and liked tidiness. And things got really messy when the dating thing happened.
But... they'd never been challenged by a girl the same way the boys had challenged each other when growing up.
So when Sophie slapped Mal... well, it was pretty much taboo territory. It didn't make sense.
But Jack managed to make sense of it first.
He leaped to his feet, grabbing Sophie's hand and dragging her backwards behind him.
Mal's eyes followed Sophie, his mouth hanging open a little slackly. The angry red blotch spreading across his cheek gave Jack no satisfaction. It was more like humiliation.
So even after all these years, he respected his big brother's public image, and therefore, felt his public shame.
Christ that was screwed up.
"Mal."
"For god's sake, Jack!" he hissed, his fists balling. "Can't you keep that f*cking wh*re under control?!"
"Mal, leave it, for god's sake," Jack growled, his hands tightening around Sophie's. "I get it. I won't take any money- but I sure as hell ain't giving you what was given to me. But this isn't about her- it's about us-" he stopped, inhaling deeply, "- so leave her alone."
Let's see if Mal would break that last time-honoured taboo...
Mal looked at Sophie for a few seconds; his eyes cold and hardened by a hatred only his humiliation could've brought out. That was the trouble with Malcolm and Jack Trove.
They were proud.
"Fine," his chest heaved with the effort of keeping calm, "fine. But mark my words, you little cow- " Jack pulled Sophie closer automatically- "if you ever come near me again, I'll not hold back. I will wring that pretty little neck of yours- got it? And as for you, Little Brother..."
Jack raised his head. "As for me?"
Mal looked as though venom was about to dribble from his tongue... but then... he stopped. Just for a second. Then, completely to Jack's surprise, Mal shook his head instead, with a sudden, sharp laugh, dismissed him.
"Take the wh*re. Have your fun. You'll come around one day. Dad says you'll never survive on your own."
And Mal left an echoing silence in his wake.

[Jack Trove]

Aw, Christ.
Jack groaned inwardly, swiveling round to face her, and found himself seriously wondering whether or not ice could freeze him half so well as her glare.
Aw, Christ, Mal.
Why did he have to do this to Jack?
Why did he have to do that to her?
"Sophie, he doesn't mean- " Jack stopped, biting his tongue. Mal never said a word he didn't mean, and Sophie wouldn't buy the lie. He cleared his throat, and tried again. "Sophie, forget about it, yeah? He's just my stupid brother, who says stupid things. I don't think like him- I know you're not a..."
Was it wise to say the word aloud?
"... wh*re."

[Jack Trove]

Jack blinked. Those last couple of words must have jumbled themselves up in her French accent, 'cause he hadn't made any sense of them at all. After all, Will's accent baffled him on a frequent basis. It was only natural that Sophie's French purr should catch him out every so often.
'Cause she couldn't have said what he thought she did.
That just didn't make sense.
"Forget this whole d@mn thing..."
Yeah. What was that supposed to mean?
She didn't say that. She wouldn't mean that.
Arriving at this conclusion, Jack stared Sophie confidently in the face, and chuckled.
"You wouldn't mind repeating that, would you?"

[Jack Trove]

She made it sound oddly... final. Weird. He knew she was mad- no, 'mad' didn't do it justice. She was teetering at the top of a tower of temper; but at the same time, he could see her... wavering. Her eyes shimmered oddly, and her voice kept changing pitch and speed. She didn't look like herself.
She didn't seem like Sophie at all.
Stepping backwards; her posture was just as perfect as ever, and she was just as stunning as ever. Jack felt something inside him shrivel up. No girl that beautiful had ever looked at him with such hatred.
"Goodbye, Jack." She barely articulate.
Final...
Oh.
Oh, sh*t.
She didn't- ?
No. She was angry. That was all. Just angry.
"Em... Sophie?"
He hadn't a hope in hell of calming her down. He wasn't... good, like that. It didn't work. Er. Right. No. He could do this. After all, this was Sophie. Sophie and Jack just... worked. He could do this just as well as Jude could.
So he started by trying to make her see reason.
"Don't you think you're being a bit... melodramatic?"

[Jack Trove]

"I... argh..."
Why was she making this so bloody hard for him?
The obvious, and most immediate answer was to do with a guy called TOM, but Jack had a gut feeling it was a bit deeper than that.
Jack felt his arms twitch defensively at his sides. He had half a mind to pick 'em up and shake her. Then, just as quickly as that thought appeared, another one surfaced. Ever seen a guy kiss a girl to shut her up?
Right now, he kinda really badly wanted to kiss her.
And he had no idea why.
"Well," Jack cleared his throat, "er, I'm sure not being melodramatic, if that's what you're trying to say. He's gone. What do you care?"
He hated his tone. He wished he didn't so feel so defensive against her offence.
But Sophie and Jack worked. He had to keep reminding himself of that. Sophie and Jack work. It was all he had to cling on to.

[Jack Trove]

For Christ's sake, why were girls so friggin' cryptic?!
For the first time since he'd met Sophie, Jack felt a sudden, random pang of longing for Olivia. At least Jack had always managed to understand her- sure, they could get on each others' nerves, but not like this. Not like him and Sophie were now. At least he'd always known where he stood with Olivia.
It hadn't always been good, but it was better than this.
He wondered what she'd say now, if she could see them. The guilt of the moment near knocked him flat on his back. He'd been angry, and now, not only had he managed to... do something to Sophie... but if Olivia ever found out...
He wondered if she'd care enough to be upset by it.
He thought she might. They'd gotten off enough times, right?
Looking at Sophie, who stood in total silence, Jack wished she'd slap him like she had Mal. At least then, they could break it, and start talking again.
... maybe Sophie and Jack didn't work quite as well as he'd thought.
Olivia and Jack didn't work; they clashed over a lot of things... but they just... but they were.
Maybe that was better than this.
"You gonna answer me, then?" he finally said.
His voice now lacked any emotion whatsoever.
No rise or fall of level. No note of uncertainty, of apology, of anger. No quickening of syllables.
Nothing.
Just a short, flat nothing.