Real Person Fic - CW: Rub Me the Right Way [1/2]

[cherie_morte]

It was a long day.

Not a bad one exactly, though certainly not a good one. Just long. Boring. The kind of day Jared has almost every day, which only made it longer. He's not in a bad mood, but he's exhausted and definitely looking forward to getting home. All he wants in the world are a warm, home-cooked meal and a little peace and quiet, and he knows he won't get the first, but he thinks he has a good chance at the second.

At least until he rounds the corner and sees the unfamiliar blue sedan sitting in his driveway. Jared heaves a sigh. He knows what strange cars in front of his house mean by now, and maybe it makes him the worst friend in the world, but the last person Jared wants to see on a night he's craving silence is Chad.

He parks and spends a few minutes in his car taking deep breaths and trying to mentally prepare himself for Chad Time before getting out, careful not to hit the other car in his too-narrow driveway, and stomping his way to the front door.

"Dude, I have terrible news," is the first thing Jared hears from his living room.

Great. Just what he was hoping to hear.

Jared shrugs out of his coat and drops his briefcase by the door. Deep breaths. Don't say anything snappy. This might be serious, and Chad might need Jared's patience.

"What's wrong?" he asks, setting his cell phone on the table and walking past the kitchen.

"My bong is broken," Chad says mournfully.

As Jared gets closer, he can see Chad sitting on the couch with his legs open and his feet on the coffee table, a beer-Jared's beer-resting in his hands between them. There's a giant bong on the couch next to him; it's nearly as tall as Chad is sitting down.

Jared will not murder his best friend. He's on a damn winning streak with that, and he's going to do his best not to fuck it up. But, oh, the temptation.

Jared knocks Chad's feet away, pushing the table back to the middle of the room where it was when he left this morning. Chad makes a surprised sound and sits up indignantly, waving his-no, Jared's-beer in the air.

"What the fuck, man?" Chad says at the same time Jared asks, "Do you even own a phone?"

"Of course I own a phone," says Chad, as if he has no idea why Jared's bringing it up. "How else could I watch porn at work?"

It would be so easy to strangle him right now, Jared thinks. No one would even miss him, probably. Except maybe Jared.

"Okay, great. So next time your bong is malfunctioning, could you please pause your porn and call me?" So I can ignore it.

Chad laughs, clapping Jared on the back. "That's ridiculous. How are you supposed to fix it for me over the phone?"

There are so many logical answers to that question that Jared doesn’t even know how to respond.

"You're my gadget guy," Chad adds. "Fix my gadget!"

Jared rubs at his temple. "Chad, a bong is not a gadget. I work in technology and this thing looks about 800 years old. Can't you take it back to the head shop and ask them to explain it to you?"

Chad frowns. "No, dude. I didn't get it at Floyd's. I got it at some antique place while I was shopping with my mom this weekend. I kept asking the guy at the store where I put the pot, but he had a weird accent, and I had no idea what he was saying."

"You bought a bong while you were shopping with your mother?"

Chad grins. "It was cool looking! Anyway, ma didn't know what it was. Just said it was lovely and went off to hassle someone about rug prices."

Jared shakes his head.

"Hey man, you seem kinda tense. You should have a beer."

"How nice of you to offer me my own beer," Jared says.

Chad misses the bite in Jared's tone, just smiles wide. "No problem. What are friends for, right?"

"Get out."

"What?"

"No, really. This is not the night. Get into your stolen car, drive back to the lot, and do your damn job, or so help me god-"

"It's not stolen, it's borrowed."

"I will murder you."

Somehow they end up in a staring contest, and Jared manages to glare into Chad's beady eyes until Chad huffs, shaking his head as he stands. "Fine!" he says. "Man, wouldn't have bothered stopping by to keep you company if I knew something died up your ass today."

Jared does his best not to relent or apologize for his pissy behavior. He knows Chad will exploit it if he shows weakness, and then he'll never get rid of him. He also knows Chad will forget all about this by the next time Jared calls him, so no harm no foul. And he just really cannot put up with it tonight.

"You're forgetting your bong," Jared says helpfully once Chad's halfway across the room.

Chad just raises an arm, waving dismissively. "What do I want it for?"

"I don't want it!" Jared says. "You think I want my parents to come visit and see that thing in my living room?"

Chad shrugs. "It's on your couch. It's your problem."

Chad smiles as he opens the door, and god damn him, he has a point. There's not much Jared can do about it. Chad flips him off on his way out, and Jared is left wondering if getting him to leave was the battle and getting him to take the bong was the war or vice versa.

He sits and enjoys the silence for a few minutes before looking back toward the kitchen despondently. He should probably get up and warm whatever microwavable crap he has in the freezer for tonight, but it seems like so much effort for so little result.

"Too bad you're broken," Jared says to the bong. He turns, picking it up to look closer. It is kind of insanely pretty now that he can see it close up. There are elaborate designs carved into the metal base, it probably says something, but Jared doesn't recognize the characters, and the glass tube is painted like someone actually gave a crap about it.

Jared can’t help wondering how much Chad paid for the damn thing just to leave it sitting on his couch. He sees a smudge on it, so he pulls his shirt up and tries to rub it away. The dirty spot doesn't budge, but the bong does.

It jumps. Right into the air, and suddenly there's smoke pouring out of the top and then there's a really, really hot guy standing in Jared's living room.

"This bong is not broken," Jared says, blinking through the haze. "This bong is potent as all fuck."

He doesn't even know how he lit it.

"Hi," says the hot guy, all calm and casual-almost businesslike. As if he comes out of bongs all the time.

Jared stares at him for a few seconds, wondering if he'll recognize him from some I Dream of Genie spoof porn or something, which would explain why Jared's hallucinating him. But he's pretty sure he's never seen this face before. He would remember this face.

The man also doesn't start reciting cheesy dialogue and taking his clothes off, which rules out the porn theory. Damn.

"Hi?" Jared replies. "Do I know you?"

"Not yet," says the stupidly gorgeous figment of Jared's imagination. "But you want to."

Oh, good. That seems like a promising start for a fantasy.

"Yes, I can see that. Um." Jared's not sure what he's supposed to say to steer this conversation to the part where he imagines lots of hot, sweaty sex and is blazed out of his mind enough to think it's real. "Why do I want to know you?"

"Because I'm your genie, and now I'm going to grant you three wishes." The man waits a few seconds then adds a little bitterly, "Master."

"You're a genie and you live in Chad's bong?" Jared asks stupidly.

"It's a lamp," the genie replies. "It's a goddamn lamp!"

"Looks like a bong."

He throws his hands into the air. "How many times is this bong thing gonna happen?"

"Er," Jared replies.

The genie looks back at him, narrowing his eyes. "Oh, this is promising. I can tell you're going to be just as great for company as the last ten guys who thought they were getting a bong."

Jared knows his intelligence is being insulted here, but it doesn't seem worth arguing over. He's still fairly certain he's just tripping balls. "Are you really a genie? Because you don't really look like a genie."

"What am I supposed to look like?" he asks.

Suddenly there's a giant pink puff of smoke, and Barbara Eden is standing in front of Jared in harem pants, only she's got big green eyes and freckles, just like the dude who was standing there before. It's pretty much the best party trick ever. "This?" she asks.

Before Jared gets a chance to say yes, there's another puff of smoke, blue this time, and Barbara Eden is replaced by a giant blue man with no feet, black hair pulled into a ponytail, and a bright red cummerbund. He still has the green eyes and freckles, though. "Or maybe this?"

Jared nods. "Yup. Both of those things make more sense."

There's a green cloud, and the pretty guy is back. "Well, too bad," he says. "This is what you get."

Jared's genie is a very angry genie. He finds this a little disheartening. "I can settle."

"How kind of you," says the genie. "All right, so here's how this works. I'm here to grant your wishes. Three of them, to be exact. Any three wishes in the world, though I do have some rules.

"Rule Number One: I will not bring your loved ones back from the dead. I know it seems like a good idea now, but trust me that shit is not pretty in practice."

Jared snorts. "I'll take your word for it."

"Rule Number Two: no wishes that are going to majorly effect the world. Sorry, Miss America. No world peace. Think smaller. More selfish. I'm sure you won't have a problem with it.

"Rule Number Three: I can't make anyone fall in love with you. Consent is very important to me, and I hope to you as well. Okay, that's it. What have you got?"

"Uh," Jared says. He's been saying that a lot tonight.

The genie flat out laughs at him. "I say, 'anything you want, you got it, just make a wish,' and he says, 'uh.'"

Jared is just about done with the guy's bad attitude. He was supposed to be the one in a pissy mood tonight. Anyway, he's still not sure he even believes any of this.

"I'm just not convinced," Jared says, relaxing back into his couch.

"Not convinced," says the genie, his green eyes flashing. "Should I do the transforming into icons from crappy 60s television thing again?"

"Nah," Jared says. "I mean, so you can transform. Whatever. It doesn't sound like you can do anything useful. No world peace. I bet you can't even magic me up a warm dinner."

The genie's eyes narrow to slits, and he snaps his fingers. Suddenly there's a goddamn steak the size of Texas on Jared's table, served with mashed potatoes and a bunch of other side dishes Jared can't even identify. It smells like Heaven.

Jared's eyes go wide and he waits all of a second before running to the setting at the head of the table and beginning to devour everything within reach.

"Still think I can't do anything?"

"NurIbeleevewe," Jared says through his stuffed mouth.

Jared sees white letters suddenly flash up on his wall. They spell out "no, I believe you," which is what Jared was trying to say. He's got a genie and subtitles. That is so freaking cool.

"Oh, good," says the genie. "Now, master, about your last two wishes."

"Two?" Jared says, pausing before shoving another forkful of food down his throat. "Try three, amigo."

Genie raises an eyebrow. "And the wonderful meal you're currently enjoying?"

Jared grins through stuffed cheeks. "All your ego trying to prove me wrong, man," he swallows, "I never wished for it."

For a long minute, the genie just blinks at him, clearly thrown off his game. Finally he says, "You're clever."

"I don't like to brag about it."

The green eyes glare yet again. "I hate it when my masters are clever."

"Don't get mad, baby," Jared says, grinning.

"My name's not Baby. It's Jensen. Use it."

"Yes, master," Jared jokes.

Jensen's lips thin. "I'm not the master, you're the master."

Jared laughs. "As wonderfully kinky as that is, why don't you just call me Jared?"

"Because…" He tilts his head. "If that's what you want, Master Jared."

"No, just Jared. Seriously."

"Fine. Jared." Jensen pauses. He's watching Jared closely, something unreadable in his eyes.

It's making Jared uncomfortable. "Why don't you sit down and have some food? Even I can't eat all of this."

Jensen frowns, but he does float his way to the other side of the table and take a seat. "I can't," he says. "Can't taste anything. Can't feel anything." He reaches out, passing his hand through the glass tabletop. Jared gasps, a little delighted by the spectacle, which makes the genie smile weakly. "It's kinda cool, huh?"

"Seems, I don't know. Like it kinda sucks."

Jensen shrugs. "It's protection. For both of us. Means I can't get fed up with my master and try attacking them, and my master can't get any ideas about…"

He doesn't finish his thought, but he doesn't really have to. All it takes is a quick glance at the guy's face to know what kind of ideas people probably get about him. And his mouth. Like the idea Jared is currently getting. Shit, that's bad. That makes Jared a little bit of an asshole.

He clears his throat, looking away from the eye candy and taking a sip from the glass of wine sitting by his plate. God, it's good. Jared loves nothing like he loves good wine, but he can't usually afford to get anything even decent, let alone something like this.

"Is it good?" Jensen asks. "Some of this stuff used to be my favorite."

He's staring longingly at a bowl of something mushy that Jared hasn't had the balls to try yet, so Jared serves himself a little just to be polite.

"It's really great," Jared tells him. "Thank you."

Jensen looks up again. "That's nice to hear."

Jared's not sure what he means by that. He lets it go. "So you weren't always Jensen the Genie, then?"

Jensen shakes his head. "No. No I was not."

"How does one get turned into a genie?"

"It's a long story," Jensen tells him. "I'd rather not get into it, if you don't mind."

Jared looks up at him. "Yeah, man. Sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

Jensen shrugs. "So, wishes? I like to get this over with as quickly as possible."

"I wish for a hundred more wishes," Jared says.

"Remember when I said you were clever?" Jensen asks.

Jared nods.

"You're not that clever."

Jared laughs. "It was worth a shot, right?"

Jensen rolls his eyes. "Oh yeah, that was very productive."

"Well, you didn't include it in your list of no-nos. You should have included it."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time."

"Good," Jared says. "Because I bet if I took you to court, the judge would say you have to honor it."

"Three wishes, smartass," Jensen replies, smiling just a little. "Unless you really want to walk into a court and tell them your genie is being mean."

"Point." Jared leans back in his chair for a few seconds, thinking hard. "It's a big decision to make on the fly, you know. Three wishes. Anything. And if I blow them? That's it."

"There's nothing you dream about?"

Jared laughs. "There's a shitload I dream about. I just don't know which three wishes are going to get me the best results."

"What do you want most?"

"I-my job. I hate my job. I work at this huge company because I keep hoping one day I'll get my big break and finally get promoted and get to do what I went to school for. Which is business management. And I'm good at it, too, okay? It's just an awful job market, so I took the only job I could get, and now I sit and answer phones and fix people's computers all day and watch jerks who know nothing getting the jobs I should get because they know someone and I don't and it's the most frustrating existence on the-"

Jared turns to see that Jensen has again transformed himself. Now he's an Occupy Wall Street picket sign, only a picket sign with big green eyes and freckles.

Jared cracks up. "Okay. Point taken. I'm a little ranty. But it's annoying."

Jensen changes back. He's got a huge smile on his face. Clearly he's really amusing himself.

He's amusing Jared, too. "Did you know you have freckles no matter what you turn into? It's kind of hilarious."

Jensen narrows his eyes. "Yeah, I know. You think I wouldn't get rid of them if I could help it?"

Jared decides from the look on Jensen's face that now is not the time to tell him how pretty they make him look. "So what do you think about my wish?"

"You want more money." Jensen pretends to yawn. "Just name how much and let's get this over with."

Jared shakes his head. "No, I don't want the money. I don't even want the job. Just help me get noticed. I swear I can do the job on my own."

Jensen shrugs. "All right. That's new, but all right."

"Plus. Once I've been promoted-" Jared leans across the table. "There's this girl."

Jensen makes a buzzer sound. "Remember what I said earlier? I am not Cupid."

"No, I don't want you to make her fall in love with me. Believe it or not, I have some charms of my own."

Jensen looks him over, then nods slowly. "I believe it."

"I just need her to know who I am."

Jensen snorts. "You want me to help you get the girl. Yup. I've never heard this one before, either."

"Maybe, but never a girl like this. She's just-she's way out of my league, Jensen. She's the damn CEO's daughter." Jared sighs. "But she's something else."

"Oh yeah?"

"She's a goddess. She's funny and smart and, man, when she laughs, her smile is like. Wow."

Jensen lifts an eyebrow. "How do you know all that if you haven't ever talked to her long enough to get her attention?"

"We got trapped in an elevator together once. For two hours, we were in there, and I was trying to fix it, and we were talking, and she was all impressed I knew what I was doing with the wires." Jared sighs. "We really hit it off. I was gonna ask her to dinner, but as soon as we got out of the elevator, there's freaking Jeffrey Dean Morgan waiting for her, all concerned and telling her her Dad's been worried."

"Who is this Jeffrey Dean Morgan character? Is that her dad?"

"Nah. He's the second in command. Everyone says he runs the company because Mr. Cortese is actually useless. I think he's trying to date Genevieve. He's a dick, and I hate him."

Jensen laughs. "Lovely."

"Dude. Help me out here. I am an idiot in love."

"Yes, I can see that." Jensen clucks his tongue. "Well, you're the boss. Just say the words, and I will try to help you win fair Genevieve's hand."

"I wish for a promotion?" Jared says. Nothing exciting happens. "Is that all? Do I have to do something else?"

Jensen laughs. "Not yet. But you should get to bed. You seem tired, and I'm pretty sure you've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

Jared smiles. "Okay. Cool. I'll just do the dishes and-"

Jensen shakes his head. "I've got the dishes. You go to bed."

"You don't have to do that. I'm not blowing a wish on some dishes."

"I'm your genie. I'm supposed to get rid of all the minor inconveniences in your life. I won't charge you for it." Jensen points toward Jared's bedroom, a stern look on his face. "Now get to bed."

Having a genie is awesome.



The next morning, Jared awakens thinking, 'my, what a strange dream I had last night.' At least until he walks out of his room, into his living room, and finds the giant bong-lamp on his couch, his house unnaturally clean, and a glorious stack of pancakes on his table.

"Whoa," Jared says.

"Good morning," comes a voice Jared remembers as belonging to his genie, whom he apparently actually has and did not just dream or hallucinate.

"I'll say." Jared grins at him, hurrying toward his breakfast.

Jensen doesn't say anything as Jared takes his seat and starts wolfing down hotcakes. He just smiles warmly and watches Jared eat.

"What?" Jared asks when he's halfway through his stack and Jensen still hasn't looked away. "Why are you staring at me?"

"You appreciate good food," Jensen says. "I like that."

"You like me, you mean?" Jared says, batting his eyes.

Jensen shakes his head, walking across the room. "I make it a rule not to like my masters. But you seem acceptable enough."

"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Jensen sticks his tongue out and goes back to waving his hands at Jared's apartment. Jared watches as things rearrange themselves, start to look polished and shiny and new. He could really get used to this.

He finishes his breakfast, taking his plate halfway to the kitchen sink before Jensen hears him, turns, and zaps everything out of his hands. "No cleaning," he snaps. "You're bad at it, anyway, if the state of this house is anything to go by."

"That's hurtful," Jared says, padding by him on his way back to his room. "I'll go shower and put a shirt on, I guess."

Jensen looks over for only a second, his eyes roaming down, and then they snap back up to Jared's and he licks his lips. "Good idea."

Jared's drive to work is relatively uneventful. There's less traffic than usual, but Jared's not sure if that's just good luck or if it has something to do with the little hula dancer doll sitting on his dashboard.

"You know you still have freckles, right?"

Jared is pretty sure the hula girl looks up to glare at him through green eyes as he gets out of the car.

Nothing miraculous happens at work. For the first hour or so it's one of his usual shitty mornings, and then he goes to get coffee and everything changes.

One of the top execs, Jared's pretty sure his name is Misha, is in the break room talking to someone Jared doesn't recognize. He's complaining about a shipping emergency in Boston, and Jared's not trying to eavesdrop, except for how he totally is.

They're stumped, and Jared's not sure how, because the solution is fairly obvious. Normally he would just walk by and keep his ideas to himself. But for some reason today he stops on his way out, stirring his sugar into his coffee, and calmly explains it to Misha and the other guy. Misha stares at him, his mouth hanging open, and says nothing for so long that Jared shrugs and turns to leave.

"Wait," he hears behind him, so he pauses. "What's your name?"

"Jared," Jared replies. "Padalecki."

"Padalecki." Misha nods slowly. "You work in IT?"

Jared glances down at his bright yellow uniform shirt, then back up at Misha, and somehow resists the urge to say duh. "Yes, sir."

"Okay," Misha replies. "See you around, Jared."

And that's that. At least until Jared gets back from his lunch break, and there's Misha standing by his desk, along with Jeffrey Dean Morgan, and freaking Frank Cortese. Jared's pretty sure he's about to be very publicly fired for talking down to an exec or something, and he'd bet good money Misha's still going to take credit for his idea.

Jensen, Jared decides, is kind of bad at his job.

"This is him, Mr. Cortese."

Frank nods, his eyes focused on Jared. "Mr. Padalecki, was it?"

Jared nods.

"Please follow me."

Jared does so, his heart in his throat as he and the other three men get in an elevator and ride up to the top floor. No one says anything for the entire ride, not until they get to Misha's office and Misha ushers them all in and closes the door.

"This is the guy with the plan," Misha says.

Frank looks over at him, eyes bright, and Jeffrey is glaring daggers.

"Misha ran the idea you gave him this morning past us at our meeting earlier," Frank says. "I told him that if we had a genius like you sitting down there fixing our printers, he'd better prove it."

He holds out a hand, and Jared takes it, completely dazed by what the guy just said. Holy shit. This is actually real.

"We need more thinkers like you in this company," Frank continues. "I'd like to make sure you have a future here. We can't lose you to our competitors, now can we?"

"Uh. No, sir," Jared replies, smiling just a little.

"Now I can’t make any promises yet, but I can tell you that Misha already called the shipping company and proposed the changes you suggested. They not only approved them, it turns out they'll cut back on a third of what we've been paying them. Jeff's going to arrange that we take the same strategy with all our branches."

Jeffrey's glare somehow gets more venomous, and Jared kind of wants to dance. He manages to resist the urge.

Frank claps him on the back. "So, Jared, do you have any plans on Friday night? We’re hosting a very private party, and I'd like you to be there."

Jensen's not so bad at his job after all.



There's a wolf whistle from the doorway, and Jared jumps a little. He's not completely comfortable in his skin right now.

"I look stupid," he says, turning to face Jensen. "Right? I do, I look stupid."

Jensen laughs, stepping forward and reaching a hand out like he's going to fix Jared's tie, then shaking his head and snapping his fingers to do it instead. "You look great."

"This suit is cheap," Jared says. "I only own cheap things."

Jensen laughs. "I've made princes," he says. "You think I can't get you a decent suit?"

Jared looks back to the mirror, and suddenly he's in a slick designer suit that he's pretty sure costs more than his parent's house. "Jesus."

He can see Jensen's reflection, standing behind him with a smile on his face. "Now you look really great."

"I look like a million bucks," Jared says, turning. "Am I wearing a million dollar suit right now, Jensen? Because I can't handle that kind of pressure."

"You're by far the most ridiculous master I've ever had," Jensen says warmly. "What should we do about that hair? I don't know if anything can be done about that hair."

Jared's eyebrows draw together. "What's wrong with my hair? My hair is, like, my best feature."

Jensen makes an unconvinced sound in the back of his throat before snapping his fingers, and Jared's hair is a little tamer when he turns back to the mirror. It looks much better. Not that he's about to admit that out loud.

"You ready to party, Mr. Executive?"

"I'm still an IT guy," Jared answers.

Jensen smiles slowly. "Not for long," he promises. "Now get going."

"Do I get a limo?" Jared asks.

"Keep dreaming," Jensen replies.

Jared laughs. "All right. Don't wait up for me."

To his half-delighted, half-terrified surprise, Mr. Cortese puts an arm around Jared's shoulder almost as soon as he walks through the door and immediately starts dragging him around and introducing him to people. Jared tries to remember all the names and faces, but most of them don't stick. It doesn't matter. What matters is the way everyone's eyes light up and they treat him like he's worth meeting, just because Frank is giving him the time of day.

Jared is not used to being respected.

"Now, Jared, there's just one more person I want you to meet," Mr. Cortese tells him. It's been over two hours of getting dragged around and Jared is doing his best to hide how much his palms are starting to itch. But one more person he can do, and maybe then he can just go home and crash. "My daughter Genevieve is around here somewhere," he says. "She's around your age, you know. And single. Studying at NYU right now, she's a very bright girl. Pretty, too, if I'm allowed to say as much. I think you two will really get along."

Jared's heart does that explosive pounding thing as soon as Frank even mentions Genevieve, and he nearly faints when he realizes exactly what is going on here. Frank Cortese is trying to set Jared up with his daughter. His daughter who Jared has spent the last six months stupidly in love with.

It's gonna be a really great night if Jared gets through it alive.

"Ah, there you are," Frank says, coming up behind Jeffrey. Jared is nothing but disappointed until Jeffrey turns and reveals Genevieve, a bored look on her face. She's wearing a strapless green dress that's tight on her body and flows all the way to the floor, and God, Jared doesn't even want to blink, she's so beautiful.

Her eyes light up when she sees him. Her eyes light up like she recognizes him, and not only that, like she likes that she recognizes him.

"Jared!" she says.

"You know each other? Well, Jared, I see that you're a man of many secrets," Frank says. He turns to Jared and gives him a fond wink, as if they've known each other for years.

"Ah, Jared," Jeffrey says, still looking like he's got his underwear in a twist. "Padabooboo, right?"

"Padalecki," Jared, Genevieve, and Frank all correct at once.

She knows his name. She knows his name.

"Padalecki. Of course," Jeffrey says.

"Jeff, why don't we talk business and leave these kids alone for a while?" Frank asks, tugging excitedly on Jeffrey's suit.

"But I was just explaining to Genevieve how-"

"No, really," Genevieve says, smiling sweetly. "I don't want to interfere with business." She grabs Jared's arm and pulls him closer. "I'll just dance a song or two with Jared, if he doesn’t mind, and we can pick up our conversation later."

Grudgingly, Jeffrey nods. Genevieve watches them retreat, her smile dropping as soon as they're out of sight. "Christ, that guy is so skeevy."

Jared laughs. "Is he? I never noticed."

"I swear, all hands." She smiles, lifting her palms and wiggling her fingers suggestively. "And he's just so old."

"He's not that old," says Jared.

Genevieve rolls her eyes. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours," he answers immediately. "Always."

Genevieve grins. "I didn't ever think I'd get to see you again."

"Did you want to?"

"Yes," she says, biting her bottom lip. "Very much."

Jared doesn't do a fist pump, but it's a near thing.

"Anyway, you rescued me from Jeff. I think that gets you a dance." Her smiles turns a little shy, which is a really, really good look on her. Like everything. "Assuming you want one."

Jared doesn't dignify that with a response, just drags her onto the dance floor with a quick warning about the fact that he's possibly the worst dancer ever. Genevieve laughs and suffers through it, and after a few songs are up, she pulls away from Jared.

"Jeff is probably going to come looking for me soon," she says. "I don't imagine you want to join me while I hide from him on the balcony?"

"Definitely," Jared says, hoping his smile doesn't look too goofy. "He really likes you, huh?"

"Hah," Genevieve replies, almost making a quacking noise. "He thinks that if he marries me my dad will just hand over the company."

"That's a silly thing to think."

Genevieve shrugs. "He's probably right. Daddy doesn't enjoy business so much. All he wants to do is sail his yacht around the world and drag my mother along for the ride." Genevieve smirks, rolling her eyes and looking fond at the same time. "He thinks it's romantic."

"It sounds romantic."

Genevieve smiles. "They're kind of disgustingly cute, my parents."

"Mine too," Jared answers. "Always dreamed of having something like that."

"Oh, lord," Genevieve says.

Jared laughs. "I'm serious!"

Genevieve lifts an eyebrow. "The sad thing is I believe you."

They get outside, and Genevieve takes Jared's hand. "Come on, I like to hide around here. They usually don't come looking for me until the party's over."

Genevieve leads him to a bench tucked away behind a hedge, and they sit and talk for what could be hours or seconds. It feels like forever and it's not long enough, and Genevieve is still clever and funny and she asks Jared all kinds of questions about computers, faking interest in his crappy job remarkably well.

"That's a really nice dress," Jared says as soon as there's a lull in the conversation.

Genevieve glances down at it. "Green," she says. "The color of money. Everyone in there's," she inclines her head toward the sound of music and chatter from the party, "favorite color."

Jared doesn't know why, but for a moment, he thinks of Jensen's eyes. "That's not why I like it."

"Well, why do you like it?" she asks in a teasing voice.

"Because you're wearing it," Jared answers. He leans in, and she leans in, and he's pretty sure he is actually about to get to kiss her.

"Genny."

Jared and Genevieve pull apart, both turning toward the voice. There's an older woman with dyed blonde hair poking her head around the hedge. "The party is almost over, sweetheart, come say goodnight-" Then her eyes dart over to Jared and she giggles. "Oh, dear, I'm sorry to interrupt. You must be Jared."

Jared nods, raising one hand in a small wave. Genevieve makes a face at him that the woman can't see, then pastes on a smile and turns to her. "Coming right away, Mother."

She turns back to Jared with a longing glance and sighs. "It was great talking," she says.

"Yeah," Jared agrees, watching her stand.

"We should talk more. Again. Sometime. Soon."

"We should," Jared agrees.

Genevieve's mother puts a hand on her arm and starts tugging, and Genevieve lets herself be led, but she keeps turning back to look at Jared.

He doesn't actually realize that was when he was supposed to ask her out until he's driving home.



The house is empty when he first enters, but it's only a second or two before green smoke starts to filter out of the top of Jensen's lamp.

Jensen is grinning once he materializes. "Back already?"

"Mmm," Jared replies, closing his eyes and nodding and stumbling a little as he steps forward.

"Are you drunk?" Jensen asks, his lips turning down.

Jared's eyes open very quickly. "On love, maybe."

"You are so drunk," Jensen says, shaking his head. "You shouldn't have driven like that. I should have come with you. I could have gotten you home without-"

"I'm not drunk, Jen." Jared smirks. "Though I really appreciate your concern."

Jensen rolls his eyes.

"I'm just exhausted," he continues.

"Tired out from all the back-breaking sex you've had tonight thanks to me?" Jensen asks, his expression turning wicked.

Jared laughs. "No back-breaking sex," he says. "Just a lot of talking."

"Fair enough." Jensen crosses his arms over his chest. "Did you at least kiss her?"

"No." Jensen's expression falls. "I got so close, though!"

Jensen sighs. "Well, when are you seeing her next?"

"Err," Jared replies. "I'm not actually sure."

"You didn't ask her out? Get her number? Her email address? Twitter name thingie?"

"How do you even know what Twitter is? Do you get Wi-Fi in there?" Jared looks past Jensen at the lamp, which is still sitting on his couch looking like a bong.

"One: I live in a fucking lamp, I have a lot of time on my hands." Jensen snaps his fingers in front of Jared's face to get his attention. "Two: quit changing the subject!"

"I'm not changing the subject," says Jared. "There's just not much to tell. We were talking and I lost track of time and then we were going to kiss and got distracted and then she gave me the signal-Jensen, she totally gave me the signal. But I was, I dunno, too out of it to realize that was it until later."

Jensen snorts. "You're hopeless, kid."

"Or I was," Jared says through a yawn, "until I got my trusty geniesen."

"I'm going to chalk that up to you being tired and hope you never say it again."

Jared finishes his yawn and grins at Jensen.

"Come on. You really do look beat."

Jared nods, and somehow he's wearing a cotton t shirt and his favorite pajama bottoms by the time he's reached the door to his room. His mouth tastes like toothpaste.

"How did-?" Jared gets interrupted by another yawn, and Jensen laughs quietly, watching Jared lie down before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Good night, Jared," he says, and then he reaches out to brush hair out of Jared's face. Jared doesn't feel the touch, but he does feel the warm rush of magic that washes over him, and he's asleep in seconds.

He's out for a solid nine hours, and it's probably the best sleep of his life. He doesn't remember his dreams the next morning, just remembers little flashes of Genevieve and dancing and what might have happened if he'd just kissed her.



Saturday morning begins with Cinderella.

No, really. Jared stumbles out into his living room and is greeted by the last chorus of 'Bippidi Bobbidi Boo.' Jensen is sitting on the loveseat, watching it with a scowl on his face, as if it's really serious television.

"If you're watching to find out if she dies, I'll spoil the end for you now. There's nothing to worry about."

Jensen sits up as soon as he hears Jared, waves his hand at the television and it turns off. "I hate that movie."

Jared laughs. "Then why were you watching it?"

"I was channel surfing. I was bored." He gives Jared a pointed look. "You were oversleeping."

"It's Saturday. That's what Saturdays are for."

"Well, Saturday morning TV sucks," Jensen replies bitterly.

"You suck."

Jensen laughs a little, but then he shakes his head. "Cinderella sucks."

"What did she ever do to you?" Jared asks as he plops onto the couch.

"It's just…" Jensen shifts, his face scrunched up, like he's not sure how to phrase what he's about to say. "Did it ever occur to anyone to ask the fairy godmother what she wants?"

Jared blinks and Jensen continues, "No. Of course not. She just exists to make everyone else's problems go away, right?"

"I guess-"

"You don't think she has a ball she wants to go to? Huh?"

Jared opens his mouth to reply again, but Jensen steamrolls right over him. "Instead she's grown old making other people's dreams come true and-what the hell makes Cinderella so fucking special?"

He looks at Jared then, and Jared wants nothing more than to disappear. There's really no way not to feel guilty.

Then Jensen's face clouds over, all the anger's replaced by resignation, and somehow that's only worse. "Sorry," he grumbles. "I just really hate that movie."

"I'm sorry, Jensen."

Jensen's eyebrows draw together. "You're sorry?"

"It must be terrible. Being a genie, I mean. Or a fairy godmother, apparently."

Jensen's expression softens. "You're a decent guy, Jared," he says. "It's not so bad when the person's decent."

"Still," Jared replies.

"Yeah," says Jensen. "Still. It'd be nice to…" He looks up, meets Jared eyes. "Fuck, never mind."

"No, what?" Jared sits forward. "Tell me."

"I shouldn't be saying any of this to you. You're my master; I'm supposed to put you at ease, not whine to you about my problems."

"I can be your friend, too, though. Right? Is there a rule against that?"

"My rules," Jensen says. "I'm not supposed to like you."

"But you do, 'cause I'm so awesome."

Jensen just laughs at him.

"Jen, how did this happen to you?" Jared asks. "I know you said you didn't wanna talk about it, but-"

"I was a servant. I was a palace servant, and I even liked it. It was secure, you know? I got to take care of people. And then I fell in love with a prince, and it was perfect, it was like a fairy tale. Like Cinderella, maybe."

"Only you didn't get invited to the ball?"

Jensen gives Jared a lopsided smile. "His mom caught us together."

"Whoa. Awkward."

"Way awkward," Jensen agrees. "And Her Majesty didn't like her precious little boy screwing the help, so." He shrugs. "She went to one of the priests in her temple and explained the problem, and it turns out he knew a little magic, so he went ahead and turned me into the kind of servant that cannot be screwed."

Jared frowns. "Wow, that's awful. What did the prince do?"

"The prince?" Jensen asks, looking up sharply. "He made three wishes, went down in history as great, and I got traded for a big chunk of the Nile."

"Wait, you don't mean Alexander the…?"

Jensen rolls his eyes. "Please don't sound so impressed. He was a spoiled brat who knew how to use wishes well. He wasn't even that good in bed."

"Nuh uh," Jared says. "Dude, no way he did that. No way anyone would do that."

Jensen laughs, but it rings hollow. "That's people for you."

"That's disgusting is what that is."

"It's what anyone would have done, Jared."

"I wouldn't. I don't believe it. You wouldn't, either."

"No, I wouldn't have. I was in love." Jensen scoffs. "And clearly very stupid."

"That's not stupid," Jared replies.

Jensen frowns. "Shit, I'm sorry. Look, I'm sure love is great and wonderful and you and Genevieve will be very happy together."

"You don't sound convinced."

"That's because I'm lying." Jensen looks away. "I've been around a long time. I've seen a lot of things. Love isn't on the list."

"You've been seeing the worst in people," Jared argues. "Wishes maybe make people greedy, but-"

Jensen raises an eyebrow. "But?"

"But there's a lot of good out there you haven't seen."

"Talk to me in a thousand years, Jared."

Jared shakes his head and Jensen laughs.

"I don't know why I told you that. I've never told a master any of that." Jensen looks away. "You're very easy to talk to. It's a problem."

"I like to think it's one of my best qualities," Jared replies with a grin.

"It is. Just not for me."

"I like talking to you, too," Jared says. "If that makes it any better."

"You're the first. Most masters just want to get their wishes and boss me around."

"Well, I wanna talk to you. And get my wishes and boss you around, of course."

Jensen laughs. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"I dunno," Jared replies with a shrug. "What do you want?"

Jensen sits back, looking confused. "What do I want?"

"Yeah," he says. "I'm guessing it's not to go to a ball. So what would you wish for if you could make a wish?"

"It doesn't matter." Jensen scratches his cheek. "It's stupid anyway."

"Tell me," Jared pleads, trying to make the face he used to pull to get his mom to let him stay home from school.

"Freedom," Jensen says quietly. "I would wish for freedom."

"Why would that be stupid?" Jared replies.

"Because it's never going to happen." Jensen lifts his right hand where there's a golden bracelet tight around his wrist. "I'd have to get this off."

Jared snorts. "Seriously? Dude, you can do magic! Just zap it or whatever."

Jensen smiles weakly. "There's only one way to get it off."

Jared nods slowly. "Of course. Lasers from an alien spacecraft. I should have known."

"My master has to wish for my freedom."

Jared smiles. "Oh! Well why didn't you say so sooner?"

"Because there's no point?"

"I'll wish you free!" Jared says. "Least I can do, right? How about after I use my second wish? That way I get all three, and the last one means you never have to grant another wish again."

"Sure," Jensen says. He doesn't look at Jared. He doesn't sound particularly excited about it, either.

"What's wrong?" Jared asks. "I thought that was what you wanted."

"I've heard that promise more times than I can count," Jensen says, lifting his hand again. "Still here."

"You don't believe me?" Jared shrugs. "I'm gonna prove you wrong. Wrong about people, wrong about love, and wrong about me. Just gotta get Genevieve first."

He frowns, looking up at Jared. "You know, I almost do believe you."

Jared is halfway to reaching out to him, to give him a sympathetic pat on the thigh, maybe, but then he remembers there's no point. Jensen won't feel it.

He smiles instead, a little forced, and stands up to get some cereal out of the kitchen. "Hey, want to stay in all day like bums? Maybe watch some TV? I mean, not children's movies that piss you off, of course."

"Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo doesn't even mean anything," Jensen mutters as Jared's walking away.

There's already a bowl of cereal sitting on the counter when Jared gets to the kitchen, and he hears a laugh from the living room. "You could have just asked," Jensen calls out. "Saved yourself the trip."

Jared comes back out with the cereal in one hand and a spoon in the other. "I'm gonna get fat eating all this food you make me if I don't even walk across the house to get it."

Jensen smirks. "My evil plan unveiled."

Jared mirrors the smirk right back at Jensen and digs into his breakfast. "So tell me something," he says before shoveling the first spoonful into his mouth.

Jensen relaxes back into his seat. "Tell you what?"

Jared shrugs. "Anything. You've been around for a thousand years, right?"

"Lot longer than that," Jensen confirms.

"So you've got to have some good gossip then, right?"

Jensen looks speculative for a few seconds, then a slow smile curls his lips. "Let me tell you about that halfwit Shakespeare," he says, and Jared pretty much doesn't stop laughing for the rest of the day.

He calls for a pizza at around seven when he realizes he hasn't had anything (or really moved at all) since breakfast, and they turn the TV back on.

"I could have gotten you that exact same pizza without the wait or delivery charge," Jensen grumbles.

"Yes, you're very impressive," Jared says, dropping the box on the coffee table. "But, like I said, no magic tonight."

Jensen bites his bottom lip, still looking unsure, then shrugs. "I'm sure you're sick of hearing me talk by now," he says, and Jared resists the urge to argue. "I want to hear more about how you fucked up last night."

Jared bunches up one of the napkins he's got next to him and throws it at Jensen. He feels a little sorry when it passes right through him, but Jensen laughs. Jared tells him the whole thing, from Jeffrey's obvious jealousy to the interrupted kiss to the rather embarrassing part when Genevieve was practically throwing herself at him and he just didn't notice.

"Let me get this straight," Jensen says. "You spent the whole night ranting at her about motherboards-"

"She kept asking! I didn't know what to do!"

"And she somehow still wanted to see you again at the end of it. And you just missed the flashing neon sign? Seriously, Jared? Do I have to do everything around here?"

"I called for the pizza," Jared says through a full mouth.

Jensen snorts. "You'd better not blow it again on your next date with her."

"But I don't have a next date with her, Jensen," Jared says. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"Uh huh," Jensen replies. "You might want to swallow that before you answer the phone."

Jared's eyebrows draw together in confusion. His phone isn't ringing. Then he swallows, and a second later it starts buzzing. He doesn't recognize the number, but he answers anyway.

"Hello?"

"Jared? Hi, this is Gen. Cortese."

His eyes widen. He looks over at Jensen, who smiles and nods encouragingly. "Genevieve! What's, uh, what's going on?"

"Nothing much," she pauses for a bit, then continues, "well, I was thinking about you today. And I'm not sure if you really wanted to see me again or if you were just being nice, but I found your number sitting on my Dad's desk and it felt like fate or something, so I figured, what the hell, I'll take the plunge. Uh, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"Yes." Jared smacks his hand to his forehead. "I mean no. Well, yeah, kinda, but it's cute. Wait. Let me start that over. I would love to see you again."

"Yeah?" She sounds both happy and surprised and Jared doesn't know which of those things makes less sense to him. "My father's having a dinner party tomorrow. It won't be anything big like that party last night, just ten or fifteen people. Anyway, my point is, I was wondering if you would like to maybe come. As, like, my date."

"Seriously?"

"No, I called to ask and then hang up on you."

Jared rolls his eyes at himself. "I'd really like that."

Genevieve gives Jared the rest of the details, and he hangs up, taking a few seconds to just blink and try to really believe it.

"She asked me out," he says.

Jensen smiles. "Imagine that."

"Did you make her?" Jared asks, his smile slipping.

"No, sir," Jensen says, making an innocent face and raising his hand in the Boy Scout salute. "I might have put your phone number out where she would find it."

"You're awesome," Jared says, standing to whoop. "This is so awesome."

"Slow down there, peppy. We've gotta do something about your way with women, or I'm never getting rid of you."

Jared's about to ask, when suddenly there's a puff of yellow smoke, and there's Genevieve sitting on his loveseat. Jared takes the spot next to her, his eyes scanning over her face quickly, and then he laughs. "Wow. Gen would look awful with freckles."

Jensen glares. "Don't push your luck, asshole. This is not my idea of fun."

"That wasn't very ladylike."

"Bite me," Jensen replies. "You know the drill. You pretend I'm her. Talk to me like I'm her. I'll tell you when you're fucking up."

Jared can't resist. "You mean like in Shakespeare?"

Jensen huffs. "I told you that was my idea!"

"I can't do this, man. It's too weird. You still sound like Jensen!"

"I am Jensen, you moron."

"Yeah, but it'd be easier to pretend otherwise if you didn't sound like-ow."

Gensenivieve grins. "Pay attention."

"That hurt," Jared says, rubbing his arm where Jensen zapped him.

"It was a love zap," says Jensen. "Now tell me how pretty I look."

"You look like something pretty colored by a small child who failed to stay inside the lin-dammit, stop that."

"Focus!"

"Hi, Genevieve." Jared feels pretty foolish, but, well. He did kind of blow yesterday astronomically, so maybe Jensen has a point here. "I'm really glad to see you."

"You too," Jensen replies. They have a conversation from there-it starts off a little shaky but it gets better as they go. Jensen actually gives Jared some good advice, and he's feeling better about the whole thing by the time he's ready to quit and go to bed.

"I love her so much," Jared says.

"Who?" asks Jensen. "You got another lady I don't know about?"

Jared winces. "Right. Sorry. I meant I love you."

Jensen smiles softly, but then he shakes his head. "Coming on a little too strong for a first date, Jay," he says. "How about just a compliment. Or a kiss."

Jared leans in, and suddenly there's a big cloud of angry green smoke. When things clear enough for Jared to see, Jensen's on the other side of the room, looking like himself again. "What the fuck?"

"You said kiss," says Jared, completely lost. "I was going in for a kiss."

"You can't try to kiss me," he says, scowling. "There's only so much of this crap I'll take."

"It was your idea though?" Jared lets out a shaky laugh. "It's not like I could have kissed you, anyway."

Jensen's frown only deepens. He shakes his head and sighs, like Jared's a complete moron and disappears into his lamp. Jared falls asleep thinking Jensen must be right about the moron thing, because he still has no idea what he did wrong.



"How do you feel about children?"

Jared jumps, taken off guard by the question, and tries to school his expression before he turns his attention back to Mr. Cortese. "Um," he says. "I love them?"

Frank pats Jared on the back, a wide smile taking over his features, so Jared is pretty sure he gave the right answer. "That's just fantastic, son. Just fantastic."

His arm is still slung over Jared's shoulder-an awkward angle considering he's about half a foot shorter-and he tugs Jared along. They've been on a tour of his art collection for the last forty minutes while Genevieve finishes dressing, the guests continue to arrive, and the housekeeper withholds permission for anyone to enter the dining room.

It's good art and all, impressive even, but Jared's attention is not on it, and the only thing keeping his mind from wandering completely is Jensen popping in and out of the paintings while Mr. Cortese isn't looking and making faces at Jared, then freezing as if he was painted into the piece the whole time. Frank hasn't noticed yet, and Jared is hardly containing his laughter.

They haven't talked since Jensen stormed away yesterday, but Jared is pretty sure he's not mad anymore.

Frank stops in the middle of the hallway, turning to Jared. "Wouldn’t you agree?"

Oh, right. He's been talking. Shit. Jensen is too damn distracting. "I'm sorry. Could you repeat the question?"

Jared winces, but Genevieve's dad just laughs and slaps him on the shoulder. "Now, don't be nervous. It's not a test. I'm just making conversation."

"Right," Jared replies, not sure where to go from there.

Luckily, Frank continues, "By the time I was your age, my wife was already pregnant with Genevieve."

"Oh," Jared says. He wonders if this has any connection to Frank asking him about kids earlier, and his stomach turns just a bit. "That's-"

"Gen is a lovely girl, but she's very hard to please. Her mother and I just want her to be happy, of course, but it's been tough. Not that she's tough, obviously that's not what I meant. She just doesn't like very many of the gentlemen we introduce her to. She likes you, though. I can tell just by looking at her."

"That's really great," Jared says. "For me, at least. I really like her, too."

Frank smiles and nods, picking back up on the tour. "That's why I'm so pleased to see you kids hitting it off so well. I liked you right away. I'm a big believer in first impressions, Jared. Some people, they overthink things. I've always gone with my gut, and that's why I've been so successful."

Jared nods. He has no fucking idea what conversation he's having, but it's making him sweat. More than usual.

"And, now, I don't want to try to influence you in any way, but just keep in mind that you and Genevieve are a great match. And great matches make great marriages." Frank coughs, clearing his throat loudly. There's just no subtlety about any of this. "And great marriages make for happy kids."

"Can't argue with that logic," Jared lies. He throws a nervous glance down the hall, wondering how much longer it can possibly take to make dinner. Maybe he should ask a question about the art or something. All this pressure is making Jared want to run and hide, before Genevieve comes out and Jared disappoints her.

"You probably wouldn't expect it looking around, but I'm a simple man. I don't want much. But I'll tell you what I want more than anything, I want a big family. Grandchildren." Frank grins. "Did I mention that I feel like you're family already, Jared? I've always wanted to keep my company in the family. Not that Jeffrey doesn't do a great job, but he's never been a part of the family, and I'm a family-oriented guy."

"Dinner is served," says a tall, thin guy with black hair and a neatly pressed tux.

"Of course," Frank says. "We'll be right there."

The man nods, turning quickly and disappearing around the corner he appeared from. Mr. Cortese looks back to Jared, meeting his eyes one last time. His expression is all weighty and intimidating. "I hope we're on the same page here," he says. "And that you'll give this conversation some serious thought."

Jared says nothing as he follows Frank to the dining room. He's pretty sure he just got his two biggest dreams, Genevieve and her father's company, offered to him on a silver platter, and instead of thrilled, he just feels oddly dirty.