Home Is Where the Heart Is (But What A Shame Everyone's Heart Doesn't Beat The Same) - Chapter 2
Jensen hurried down the stairs toward the Infirmary, stopping at the bottom with a frown on his face. The members of his crew, save Annie who was currently trying to contact Mr. Universe, were gathered around the medical bay, looking through large glass windows at the inhabitants inside. Coming up behind Alona, he cupped his hands over her shoulders and rested his chin on top of her head. Milo had placed Jared on the small built-in bed set waist high in the back wall. The young man was covered in a thin blanket and Jensen could see it vibrating from the shivers coursing through the body curled up underneath it. Jared tracked Milo’s movements as he bustled around the room, gathering supplies from the cabinets and drawers.
“He looks so…” Alona’s pretty features scrunched as she searched for the right word.
“Sexy?” Chris helpfully supplied. At her head shake, he offered more suggestions. “Delicious? Mouth-watering?”
“You make him sound like a steak,” Steve nudged his husband with his shoulder.
Chris shrugged, nonplussed. “Looks good enough to eat. You see that ass? Just wanna sink my choppers into…”
“Finish that sentence and you’ll be sleeping in the cargo hold for the next month,” Steve scowled.
Jensen frowned when Milo, who’d been considering Jared with a look that was equal parts devotion and adoration, snapped wild, dangerous eyes in Chris’ direction, the changing of moods startling in its quickness. Body tense and poised for defense, Milo assessed an oblivious Chris, shifting slightly to place his body between the crude man and the subject of his objectification.
“Ooh, hubby is possessive,” Chris smirked at Milo’s outraged expression, apparently not as oblivious as Jensen had thought. “Bet they are wildcats in bed together. Jared looks like the type who needs a firm hand and Milo strikes me as the kind to keep the reins tight. Be strict, punishin’ him when he’s bad, spanking that sweet ass cherry red, making Jared beg for more.” Chris licked his lips, eyes glassy, lost in his own imaginings.
“Chris, enough!” Steve’s tone was exasperated and Jensen knew that he’d reached his limit with his husband. Steve was an understanding man, he’d have to be in order to stay married to Chris, but even he could take only so much of the man he loved lusting after another.
A snarl erupted from the Infirmary before Steve’s voice had finished echoing in the common area. Jensen turned to see Milo stalk through the doorway, eyes burning with rage. He seized Chris by the front of his t-shirt and spun him, shoving him harshly against the glass window. “You don’t ever talk about him like that again or I swear I’ll end you with my bare hands.”
Jensen could understand Milo not taking kindly to Chris’ comments, his own protective nature finding exception with the man’s words, but he couldn’t allow this to continue. He moved out from behind Alona, shielding her from the quarreling men with his larger frame. “Milo unhand him or I’ll be forced to put you in irons.”
“Didn’t you hear what this yuán (ape) said about Jared?!” Milo hissed, one of his forearms coming up to press against Chris’ Adam’s apple.
“I did and I will deal with it. I am the captain of this ship and I decide how to handle her crew. Now, unhand him.” Jensen infused as much authority as he could into his voice, the tone brooking no argument.
Milo’s brow furrowed in thought, rebellion on the tip of his tongue and in the front of his mind. He jerked when a gentle hand rested on his shoulder.
“Son, let the man go. You’re upsetting Jared.” Misha’s eyes were sympathetic, his chin tilting toward the window where Jared could be seen inside the med bay. Jared was huddled in the corner of the bed, rocking back and forth with his knees curled up to his chest and eyes wide with fear.
Milo’s gaze moved past the man pinned in front of him to see through the window, his face softening at the sight of Jared. Fingers uncurled from Chris’ shirt and Milo walked back into the med bay, cooing soothing words at Jared in an attempt to straighten the man from the tight ball he’d made himself into.
“Steve, do you mind taking your husband for a walk and quite possibly a cold shower. It would be best if I don’t have to share his company for a while. Then Annie could use your help up on the bridge.”
“Aye, Captain. Come on.” Steve clapped Chris on the shoulder, “Before you start anymore trouble.”
Chris turned around and faced his husband with innocent, betrayed eyes. “Just because that xīnlǐ (psycho) can’t handle a couple of comments,” he protested as Steve pushed him up the stairs and out of sight.
Jensen scrubbed a palm over his face, sparing a moment to wonder why he even kept Chris on board until he remembered that Steve was the best pilot in the verse and unfortunately the pair was a set. He dropped his hand and noticed Alona hovering in one of the darkened recesses of the room, watching as Jared gradually unfurled his long body to once again lie on the bed. Jensen stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her in another embrace.
“Scared,” Alona said, quietly, “I was gonna say he looks so scared.”
Jensen nodded his agreement, his stubbled chin catching in her silky locks and shifting them. His arms tightened around her petite form and his expression hardened when Milo fixed her with an unreadable look. It was as if Milo’d been offended by what she’d said though Jensen wasn’t sure it was possible for him to hear her soft voice across the distance that spanned them.
“Do we have any idea what’s wrong with the boy?” Misha came up beside them, studying the two passengers inside.
“Don’t have the foggiest,” Jensen answered honestly. “He looks healthy enough, but it seems his mind wanders off on him.”
Alona shook her head. “Could be from being crated. That shipping unit was designed for freeze-dried goods, not people. Coulda done something squirrelly to his brain.”
“Let’s not forget that he must have been doped to even allow himself to be shoved in that thing,” Jensen added.
Misha shook his head and Jensen could see him holding back the urge to rush to Jared’s side to offer comfort. The shepherd sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I think I’ll retire for the evening. I don’t see us getting much in the way of answers tonight. “ He nodded his head and made his way down the hallway that led to his room in the passenger section of the ship.
Alona shifted, her head ducking out from under Jensen’s so she could look him in the eye. “You’re gonna make sure he’s okay, right?” Her gaze flicked back to Jared when a whimper floated out to them from the open Infirmary doors. “If Milo is hurtin’ him or forcin’ him into…anything, you’ll help him?” She looked at him again, her expression open and pleading, eyes wide with trust in him and wet with worry for Jared.
“Ain’t nothing bad going to happen to him as long as I’m here,” he assured her, the words feeling heavier than the platitude they were meant to be. Squeezing her shoulders comfortingly, he patted one lightly. “I need you back down in the Engine Room. We can’t re-fuel until we make our delivery so this run’s gonna be tight. I need you to take a look and see what can be pared back, every drop’s gotta count.”
“Yes, Cap’n.” She bit her lip and hesitated for a minute, staring once again at the young man on the bed. Nodding, she smiled at Jensen and headed toward the heart of the ship.
Jensen stepped closer to the glass; arms folded over his chest, and watched the men inside. Something seemed off about them, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. A presence came up beside him, the subtle scent of lilacs - or what Jensen assumed lilacs smelt like having never seen one before - identifying the person as Sophia.
Inside, Milo approached Jared cautiously with a liquid filled syringe in one hand and the other held out in a placating gesture. Jared’s eyes widened in fear, the slight shaking deepened into body-wracking tremors as he trembled at the sight of the needle. He scooted further back on the bed, the wall behind him preventing any possible escape and intensifying the haze of terror clouding his eyes. His head moved back and forth, a litany of nononono falling wordlessly from his quivering lips as tears collected in the lashes of his lower lids.
“Sshhh, Fen. You’re okay now. This will make you feel better,” Milo cooed, grabbing Jared’s bicep in a sure, firm grip and gently pushing the needle into the muscle. Removing the syringe, his thumb rubbed soothing arcs over the point of penetration as he kept up a constant stream of consoling words and noises.
Jensen watched as Jared’s eyes drooped, eyelids raising and lowering languidly until they fell to rest and didn’t open again. The worry slid off Jared’s face as he slipped into sleep, his features lax and body finally peaceful.
“You know Milo’s being less than truthful, right?” Sophia’s soft voice startled him, having forgotten she was still there.
“Pretty sure Mr. Padalecki there and the truth parted ways a while back. His tongue’s so forked he lisps when he talks.” Jensen ran a hand over his face, fingers threading through his short-cropped hair, “For the record, which part were you referrin’ to specifically?”
“They’re not engaged,” she motioned with her chin to indicate the two men. Milo was tugging the blanket up higher over Jared’s shoulders, an affectionate look as he gazed down on the sleeping man.
“Didn’t realize that your training made you an expert on relationships,” Jensen scoffed, his eyes never wavering from Jared.
“My training,” Sophia bristled at the derision in Jensen’s tone, “makes me an expert on people and their interactions with one another. There is a bond there, but it’s not betrothal.” The argument over her life was an old one, the insults and back-handed comments an integral part of their banter. Most times, she consoled herself with the idea that Jensen’s hurtful words were inspired by how much he cared for her. Since her arrival on Persephone, she and the captain had fallen into a familial bond. Him, the worried brother voicing his disdain at her being a member of the verse’s oldest profession, and her, the bratty sister snarking at him for participating in the verse’s second oldest. But there were also the rare moments when she thought he was just being a judgmental ass. She eyed Jensen speculatively, “My training also makes me adept at detecting attraction.” She raised an eyebrow at his confused look. “You like that boy,” she clarified, looking pointedly at Jared.
Jensen chuckled, “You might want to go back to the Academy for a refresher, sweetheart. I think your attraction sensor is a might faulty.”
“Whatever helps you to sleep at night, Jen,” she patted his arm then disappeared in the direction of her shuttle.
Jensen nodded absently, eyes following Milo puttering around the room, wondering what else the young man was keeping to himself.
Jensen lay in his bunk trying to quiet his noisy mind. Milo Padalecki and his…Jared. Sophia’s declaration only confirmed his suspicions and he couldn’t help but wonder what Milo wanted with the other man. Bond or no, Jensen refused to allow Jared to blindingly trust someone who meant him harm.
Thumping his pillow, he turned over on his side to face the wall. The faint glow of the comm console dimly illuminated the space in a warm crimson light that he normally found comforting, but now only served to irritate him. Closing his eyes and willing his body to sleep, images of Jared - gazing up at him with cloudy, disoriented eyes; smiling fondly at Milo - danced unbidden across his mind. Huffing out a breath, he mildly cursed Sophia. He flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling, replaying his conversation with Mr. Universe.
Jensen leaned over the main console, looking at the blank display screen waiting for Steve to secure the connection. Mr. Universe was an elusive son-of-a-bitch. His ability to weave in and out of the Cortex mainframe like a sidewinder through sagebrush often left him on the wrong side of right in the opinion of The Alliance and he’d made a career out of evading them. Though a trained pilot, he’d never taken an official side during the rebellion; however, his anti-Alliance opinions were no secret to either faction. He’d supplied the Browncoats with several pieces of information that allowed them to continue the resistance as long as they had, fighting for the cause through cyber intelligence rather than weaponry. Unfortunately, once the dust settled, the Alliance wasn’t in too forgiving of a mood and he’d become the longest standing member of the Alliance’s most wanted list. After several too close for comfort calls, he hermitted himself away. He stayed on the fringes of society, only imparting those he trusted with his contact information and location. Jensen believed the man genuinely liked him and they shared a good rapport, but he hadn’t made it past the vetting process to become one of the inner circle yet. Lucky for him someone on his crew had.
Grainy static filled the small screen before the image resolved to reveal a man with tousled, curly hair, dark eyes and a two day scruff shadowing his jaw. The room around him was an eerie blue, the incandescent glow from what Jensen knew was a wall of monitors that kept the enigmatic man’s fingers on the electronic pulse of the Core worlds. Behind him was a shirtless man with a physique that would be the envy of many a man, propped against a long couch in an awkward lean. His features were strong and handsome with a hint of boyish youthfulness, the slight sheen of plasticene reflected in the azure light belying his deceptively human countenance.
“Gabe, my man,” Steve crowed from Jensen’s left, “How’s the informational world treating you?”
“Mr. Universe,” the man corrected, looking down and tapping at his keyboard.
“Hey, we’ve been friends since flight school,” Steve laughed at the man’s indignation, “I know where all the virtual bodies are buried. So, to me, you’ll always be Gabe Tigerman.” He and Mr. Universe met in flight school after Steve discovered the only reason the other man had the highest grades attainable had more to do with his adept knowledge of the school’s software than his understanding of nav thrust propulsion. An easy friendship of mutual beneficence ensued - Steve kept his mouth shut in exchange for information. Their friendship only grew once they’d graduated and Jensen believed that Steve was maybe Mr. Universe’s oldest friend. Jutting his chin in the direction of the inelegantly inclined man, Steve smirked, “Looks like you and Matt are enjoying wedded bliss. How’s it feel to be a married man?”
Jensen was able to control his eye roll until Mr. Universe turned to look lovingly behind him. Steve always had this ability to see the bright side of every situation, that one shiny thing that made everything all right, a talent that probably kept him from killing Chris in his sleep. Jensen’d never understood the appeal of lovebots, companions you could program into the perfect partner. They never argued or complained or nagged, their reactions as artificial as their love. He supposed for someone as cut off and secluded as Mr. Universe, it made perfect sense. Matt was loyal and trustworthy, incapable of betrayal or subterfuge because he wasn’t programmed that way.
Mr. Universe spun back around to face them, “It’s been perfect. Over a year and we’re still in the honeymoon phase. Breakfast in bed, massages, but the best part, Steve,” he quirked a mischievous eyebrow before waggling it, “is the sex. Matt’s a kinky little minx. Aren’t you, baby?” He cooed over his shoulder, the lovebot turning its head in the direction of Mr. Universe’s voice. Looking back at the monitor with a leer, he stage-whispered, “He’s really flexible, just twists himself into any position I can think of. And when he’s riding me, let me tell you, it’s a thing of beauty.”
“That’s nice and all,” Jensen interrupted, feeling the need for a bar of soap and a good scrubbing “and I’d love to catch up some more, but I have an issue that needs tending to and I was hoping you could help us.”
Mr. Universe’s attention transferred from his old friend to Jensen. “Jenny! It’s been a while.” Eyes flicking back teasingly to the Persephone’s pilot, he added rhetorically, “Steve, you still flying with this crusty ole Browncoat? Surely, my escapades can’t be embarrassing you. I heard about that time with the bordello on Belios III. Rumor in the signal is that they had to get a whole new crew of working boys after that because the ones they had swore they could never be satisfied again after a night with the illustrious Captain Ackles.”
Jensen rubbed the back of his neck, heat pinking the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “That was a long time ago.”
“Isn’t that how all the legends from Earth -That -Was start? A long time ago…”
“So, you think you’ll be able to help us?” Jensen smoothly tried to direct the conversation away from any more of his embarrassing exploits and back to the matter at hand.
Smirking like he’d won something, Mr. Universe sat back in his chair. “Always happy to help the crew of the Persephone. What can I do for you now?”
“Picked up a passenger recently and I’m not getting any warm fuzzy vibes. Was wondering if you could nose around and see what you could find out about him?”
“This passenger got a name?” Mr. Universe sat up and swiveled in his chair, pulling a keyboard closer.
“Here,” Annie nudged Jensen’s arm, handing him the copy of the contract Milo signed when he paid for passage.
“Is that Adrienne?” Mr. Universe’s eyebrows shot up and a lascivious smirk curled his lips. “If I wasn’t a married man…”
“The loss is mine,” Annie winked.
Jensen cleared his throat. “Milo Padalecki,” he enunciated clearly, once again drawing the conversation back to the current topic. “P-A-D-A-L-E-C-K-I.”
“Right,” Mr. Universe nodded, fingers flying over the keys.
Jensen shot Annie a look from the corner of his eye. He’d seen her shoot people for fewer offenses than calling her by her full given name. Adrienne was what her mother had called her and she carefully safeguarded who she allowed to address her by it. The vetting process for that privilege was almost more stringent than the one to learn Mr. Universe’s location. Jensen could count on one hand - with fingers left over - the number of people who’d called her Adrienne and lived. He was fortunate enough to be considered the minority, but did sport a nasty scar on his knee for the attempt.
“Nothing,” Mr. Universe said definitively, the clacking of the keys ending abruptly.
“What do you mean ‘nothing’?” Jensen looked at Steve for help. “What does he mean?”
“I mean there’s nothing on Milo Padalecki. According to the Cortex he doesn’t exist.”
“It’s an alias,” Annie’s face was grim, “Only people up to no good need a fake identity.”
“That’s comforting,” Steve mumbled.
“My sweet Adrienne,” Mr. Universe purred, “not everyone with a secret identity is bad. Take me for example or consider how many names you have under that ruggedly tantalizing belt of yours?”
Jensen noticed Matt’s eyes narrow, the blue pupils glowing at his husband’s flirting words. Maybe there was more to lovebots than Jensen originally thought.
“Yes, but we aim to misbehave,” Annie unconsciously adjusted the buckle on her belt.
Jensen rubbed a hand down his face. “This guy has lied to us from the word go. If he’s up to no good, I’d like to know before I have Alliance soldiers tickling the hairs on our necks.”
Mr. Universe considered him for a moment, “People lie to you all the time Jenny. It’s a bartering trade in your line of work as much as your smuggled goods. So I have to wonder why this guy bothers your heretofore non-existent sensibilities so much. If you don’t trust him then shoot him,” he shrugged as if he didn’t just advise Jensen to take a man’s life. “That is what you do, isn’t it?”
Jensen fought not to fidget. He could feel Steve and Annie’s eyes on him, waiting for his answer and he really didn’t have one. It wasn’t so much Milo that concerned him, it was Jared. Something was off about Milo and the way he was with Jared, something that niggled Jensen to no end. “He smuggled a person, Jared, on my ship…in a crate. He says that they’re engaged, but something about trussing up your loved one like common inventory don’t set right. I think he means Jared harm and I’d lose sleep at night if I didn’t try to stop it and I hate losing sleep.”
Mr. Universe sighed, dark eyes on Jensen in a calculating look. “Let me see what I can find.”
Gritting his teeth in frustration, Jensen flung the covers back and sat up. Without really meaning to, Jensen found himself once again outside of the Infirmary. He could hear the low hum of Persephone’s engine through the floor overhead, creating a peaceful background noise that went unnoticed when her crew was awake and going about their business.
Jared was exactly where Jensen had last seen him, not appearing to have moved an inch since Milo doped him earlier. In the soft lit hue of the sleep dark ship, he seemed younger and more innocent than he had in the cargo hold. And Alona was right, even in his sleep, Jared looked scared, a constant apprehension that followed him into unconsciousness. Like a dog that’s been kicked its whole life and now knows nothing but fear.
Milo was asleep on one of the couches just outside the med bay in the common area, dark circles underlining eyes that continually roved behind closed lids. A blanket was draped over him, guarding him from the chill, and Jensen marveled how Alona’s kindness could overweigh her distrust. He hoped one day that trait didn’t lead her into trouble.
Turning back to look through the window of the Infirmary again, he startled at wide hazel eyes staring unblinkingly at him from beneath tousled chestnut hair. The door to the med bay was open, more than likely so Milo could hear if Jared needed him, and Jensen quietly slipped into the room. He curled his lips into his most disarming smile and carefully approached Jared’s bedside. Those hazel eyes watched him the whole way, much like they had Milo earlier when he was moving around the Infirmary, following his every step and barely blinking.
“Jared,” he spoke softly, ignoring how Jared shrunk back at the nearness of his presence, “do you remember me from earlier? We met down in the cargo hold?”
Jared hesitated for a minute, assessing Jensen with those wary, frightened, unblinking eyes, and nodded slowly.
Jensen smiled again, trying to allay the young man’s fears. “My name is Jensen Ackles. This here is Persephone,” he ran a loving hand over the ship, “and I’m her Captain.”
Jared’s eyes widened and he sat up suddenly, tossing the blanket back from his body, heedless of his nudity. He slid from the bed in a graceful, sinewy movement that Jensen wouldn’t have thought possible for someone Jared’s size and knelt on the floor at Jensen’s feet, head bowed and hands clasped behind his back. He stared at Jared for a moment, his mind whirling through a myriad of emotions - confusion at Jared’s reaction, arousal at the sight of the naked man on his knees before him then finally settling on horror at what that position intimated. For Jared to not be a slave as Milo claimed, he’d been skillfully trained in the art of submission.
“Come on, Jared,” he pushed as much amusement into his voice as he could, trying to play off the disturbing - and affecting - sight of Jared on the floor in such supplication, “I know I’m gorgeous but there’s no reason to throw yourself at my feet.”
Jensen stepped closer to Jared, arm out to help the young boy from the floor and was surprised when Jared started to shake at the sight of his raised hand. The image of a kicked puppy flashed before Jensen’s mind and he quickly withdrew his arm.
“Jared,” he began, crouching down to try and catch the young man’s gaze. “I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help you, but I need you to tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help you, if you won’t talk to me.” His pleas halted when those hazel eyes were back on him. He could see wariness warring with hope in the blue-green depths, Jared wanting to believe Jensen’s kindness yet experience teaching him not to trust it.
His eyes roved over Jared’s body, desperately seeking a way to get the frightened man from the floor, pausing on a long, thin, shiny scar along Jared’s flank. Jensen’s blood boiled and his vision clouded over with red tinted rage. He’d seen a scar like that once before, back on his momma’s ranch. Hayes was helping wrangle the horses into the corral and got tangled up in Riley’s whip. The lash had cut deep and it was only because of Doc Warren’s tireless work and close proximity that Hayes survived. He rose up, stooping over the young man, and cupped Jared’s elbows with his hands, his gentle urging of the boy to stand, completely at odds with the need for violence trying to consume him.
“Get away from him!” Milo’s shout rent the air and Jensen instinctively let go of Jared’s arms, the boy’s head bowing again at the loss of contact. Milo stormed into the room, his face the perfect depiction of how Jensen felt inside. He hurried to Jared and squatted in front of him, head dipping low to peer at the kneeling man’s eyes. When Jared refused to lift his gaze from the floor, Milo spun toward Jensen with a look of seething hate. “What did you do to him?”
“Nothing,” Jensen replied harshly, tempering his tone when he saw Jared flinch at the vehemence. “I came down to check on him and he was awake. I introduced myself and he went to his knees, never even said a word.” He narrowed his eyes at Jared’s form, rigid with fear, and pointedly rested on the barely noticeable scar. “So my question is: what did you do to him?”
Milo jumped up and squared off against the Captain, “What exactly are you accusing me of? Hurting my…Jared?”
“If the boot fits,” Jensen squared his shoulders, refusing to back down. He regretted coming up the stairs in only his sleep clothes, his fingers itching for the feel of his revolver.
“Milo,” the word was so soft that both men nearly missed it over their own harsh panting. Milo blinked his eyes and looked down to see Jared’s fingers fisted into the fabric of his sleep pants, his pale face lined with worry.
“It’s okay, Fen,” Milo crouched down again and ran his fingers through the long locks on the man’s head, tucking a strand behind his ear. It struck Jensen as odd that Milo would so easily turn his attention away from the threat that Jensen was imposing, it didn’t mesh with what he’d seen of the other man. Milo was a warrior, a fighter, and the first lesson you learned was never to turn your back on your enemy. Either Milo knew that Jensen wouldn’t do anything with Jared so close and so scared or Jared was Milo’s weak spot.
“Cap’n?” Annie stood in the doorway, eyes flickering between the three men. She could feel the lingering tension and anger in the air. “There’s someone on the comm for you.”
“They’ll have to wait. Milo and I need to have a little sit-down.” He crossed his arms over his chest when Milo glared at him from over his shoulder.
“Sir, its Gabe,” she clarified, eyebrows rising to emphasize the name, “He has that information you wanted and you’re gonna want to hear this.”
Jensen sighed, arms falling to his side. “We’re not done here,” he said, fixing Milo with a determined look.
Milo held his eyes, lips tightened into a thin line, then nodded in a deliberately slow up and down motion. Jensen followed Annie out the door, looking back through the window before ascending the stairs to the Bridge to see Milo lifting Jared back onto the bed. Gripping the rails tight, he took the stairs two at a time.
Steve and Mr. Universe were talking about their days at the flight academy when Annie and Jensen made their way onto the Bridge. On the screen, Matt, Mr. Universe’s lovebot, was massaging his shoulders and dropping the occasional kiss to his neck. The two friends’ conversation cut off abruptly at Jensen’s less than amused look.
“Captain Ackles,” Matt addressed him politely. Seeing Annie enter behind him, Matt’s hands went to Mr. Universe’s chest and clutched possessively. His beautiful molded face tightened and he nodded curtly to Jensen’s second in command. “Annie.”
“Matt,” Jensen acknowledged before turning his attention to the techno-genius. “You got something for me?” Jensen’s wasn’t in the mood to coddle the man like he normally would and definitely didn’t have the patience for his amorous automaton’s misplaced jealousy.
“Yeah,” the man on the screen replied. Picking up on Jensen’s no-nonsense demeanor, he patted Matt’s hand in a silent message for him to stop, “I’m sending you over some information now. Your passengers are definitely not what they seem.”
Jensen leaned over the panel next to the comm screen, glancing at the incoming transmission. “How so?”
“Well, for starters, his name is not Milo Padalecki.”
“We already knew that,” Jensen cycled through the documents and pictures Mr. Universe had sent, mind half listening to the man and half reading the material.
Unflustered by Jensen’s unimpressed tone, Mr. Universe continued, “Their names are Milo and Jared Flynn and they were damned near impossible to find even for someone of my exceptional talents. They’ve nudged out yours truly as the most wanted man in the verse.”
“It say why they’re in such high demand?” Annie asked, leaning over Jensen’s shoulder to read the information flying across the screen.
“Nothing to warrant such a lofty place on the list. Just that Milo is considered highly dangerous and that Jared is his accomplice. On a side note that I think might interest you personally Jenny, they are definitely not engaged.” Jensen jerked back in surprise as Mr. Universe’s words penetrated his thoughts at the same time a picture filled the screen.
“I’ll be damned.”