why don't you do right {part two 1/2, nc-17, jared/jensen}
Act II 1/2.
Jared.
Hollywood Town, 1947.
“So, Murray wasn’t just blowing smoke outta his ass. There really is some frigging super-script,” Morgan mused with amazed disgust. He eyed Jensen. “You think this thing could really be a reason?”
“But why? Why would Bob care?” Jared argued. “He was already producing the damn thing. Hell, like he said, he and Eric were friends for years…none of this makes any goddamned sense.”
“Jared usually likes to think the best of everyone, Detective Morgan,” Jensen said with a thread of wounded cynicism woven through his voice. “Even while he’s being framed for murder. It’s one of his more exasperating qualities.”
He’d barely looked Jared’s way since their last confrontation, and Jared wasn’t about to consider the sickening lump in his belly every time he caught sight of the defeated look in Jensen’s eyes. These words barely even nicked the surface of his heart.
“With the WB merging, what would that mean for Singer Corp?” Morgan wanted to know, and Jared dragged his gaze away from his husband. “Would it make a difference?”
“It didn’t really seem like it’d have much of an effect on us at all,” Jared said truthfully. “Bob made it out like it’d be the low-ballers, the grunts who carried most of the loss. And yes,” he added at Morgan’s dark frown, “I know how that sounds, and I wasn’t a fan, either.”
“If memory serves, Kripke was something of a philanthropist. Something tells me he wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea of any low-ballers being unnecessarily put out of work,” Morgan pointed out.
“It’s true, Eric…he had a real soft spot for the underdogs. Thought it was a laugh to pick one of them out, promote the hell out of them until they were practically running the biz that’d shunned them in the first place.”
Morgan’s eyebrow rrose. “Sounds like you’re speaking from personal experience, kid.”
Jared’s cheeks went pink and he dropped his gaze to the floor, feeling the ache like a missing limb. “Yeah, maybe. I owe…owed him. For everything. He made me, Detective Morgan. He chose me.”
“Because you were fucking amazing,” Jensen muttered, and Jared’s chest twinged at the loyal reply. “You always sell yourself short.”
Morgan cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, it stands to reason that maybe Kripke would’ve wanted to aim the middle finger at the merger, take Supernatural somewhere else. Maybe even at the expense of his ‘good friend’ Bob Singer. That’s motive enough for some people.”
“Maybe,” Jared hedged, sinking back against the wall and shaking his head. “But Bob’s not really the evil mastermind kind of guy. Trust me. Someone else would be pulling the strings.”
“Well, then that’s what we need to find out.” J.D. opened his mouth to continue when a soft knock sounded at Jensen’s door. They all jumped, and a tic started up in Jensen’s jaw.
“Jensen, are you still here? It’s late,” came a sweet, worried voice that Jared immediately recognized, but couldn’t quite believe. His mouth fell open on a surprised gust of breath even as Jensen met his gaze with heated challenge.
“Yes, Sandra,” he said coolly. “Everything’s fine. Let Adrianne know I’ll be right out.”
“Sure thing, sweetie,” Sandy said after a moment’s hesitation. Then, “Jensen, I’m…I’m so sorry about. Well, you know.”
“Yes,” Jensen said softly, still holding Jared’s floundering gaze. “I know.”
“I just can’t believe it. Jared could never hurt anyone! And he loves you so much…”
It finally seemed to be too much for Jensen, who jumped to his feet and strode to the door with jerky movements. “Thank you, Sandra,” he said meaningfully, and Jared’s fingers twitched at the buried pain in that gorgeous voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And with that, Jared’s ex-girlfriend whispered a goodbye and left. He caught Jensen’s wrist as his husband passed by, and could barely get out through a throat gone tight, “You know I’m gonna ask you why.”
Why would you help her, Jensen?
“Because she meant something to you,” Jensen said gruffly, staring at someplace just over Jared’s shoulder. He raised his voice then, pulling smoothly away from Jared’s grip. “Is there anything else, Detective? I’m afraid I’m running short on time…with everyone else leaving, it’s bound to raise suspicion if I linger behind too much longer.”
“I think I’ve got enough for tonight,” Morgan drawled, eyeing the two of them with wary curiosity as he came to his feet again. “Is there someplace else I can reach you, in case of, well…?”
In case I’m caught by the cops, or wind up as dead as Eric, Jared filled in the blank wildly. Apparently something along the same lines was traveling through Jensen’s mind, too, because his husband’s pallor had taken on that same earlier, ghastly look.
“Yes, of course,” he murmured, flicking a concerned gaze in Jared’s direction. He fumbled for a piece of club stationary and a pen, quickly jotting down whatever means of communication he planned to share. As he handed it over to J.D., he added thickly, “Please, just…take care of him for me, Detective.”
A meaningful look passed between them that escaped Jared’s understanding. Then Jensen was moving, too fast, directing them on the safest exit and route to avoid whomever might be after them. Jared risked one final glance back and was nearly undone by the pain shining in Jensen’s eyes before his husband closed the door against the dark.
And Jared.
xxx
As it turned out, Jared never had to call Chad.
J.D. dragged him back to the Terminal Bar, instead, insisting that someone named “Sam” owed him a favor or two, but one look at the pretty brunette’s face - the same one who’d served him the night before - and he was pretty sure Morgan had gotten that one way all the way wrong.
“No,” Sam said through thin lips. “Absolutely not, have you lost your mind?”
“Have you lost yours?” Morgan returned in a low voice. “The kid’s innocent, Sam. Christ, just look at him… you knew it before I did, remember?”
Jared suddenly found himself the focus of two pairs of judging eyes, and tried to appear as non-threatening as possible. Without a shower and clean clothes, he wasn’t quite sure he succeeded, and the smile felt shaky and insincere shaping his lips.
Still, Sam sighed and rested her head against the doorjamb. “You’re sure no one followed you here?”
“You think I can’t do my job right, sweetheart?” came J.D.’s wry reply, and Sam’s eyes flashed fire.
“For someone who needs my help, Jeffrey Dean, you sure gotta funny way of askin’ for it.”
Jared’s ears pricked at that little slip, and at the interesting flush that lit Morgan’s cheeks. He took a step forward, correctly interpreting the heat climbing J.D.’s skin and hoping to diffuse the situation. “Listen…Sam. I’m so sorry, so, so sorry to impose this way. We’ll be out of your hair in no time.”
He reached for J.D.’s arm, resigned to another night in the goddamned gutter, but was just as soon stopped by a gentle touch to the shoulder.
“Well, now you’ve gone and made me feel about as tall as a kicked puppy,” Sam grumbled without any heat. She paused for another split-second, then heaved a sigh and held the back door open wider. “For God’s sake, get in here before someone sees you both.”
This time, Jared’s smile was warm and real as he climbed the cobbled steps after J.D. “Thank you. If there’s anything at all I can do…”
“You can sit down and hush before your teeth chatter right outta your head,” Sam snapped, but her eyes held nothing but concern as she guided Jared toward the back of the empty barroom. “Now what’ll it be, sugar? You look like you could use something harder than coffee.”
“I’ll take a scotch on the rocks,” Morgan said as took a quick look around, making sure the blinds were pulled closed, and then slid onto the stool next to Jared.
“You’ll take coffee, wiseass.” Sam’s hard gaze just dared Morgan to argue.
As she began fiddling with the liquor cabinet, a bit of embarrassment clogged Jared’s throat. “Actually, coffee’s just fine for me, too…I probably gave you the wrong impression the other night.”
“You did nothing of the sort. And I’ve got just the thing to take the edge off.” She mixed and stirred and shook, then placed a frothing mess of something that smelled of cinnamon in front of Jared. “Now try that and tell me what you think.”
“Better drink up, kid,” came J.D.’s ironic reply. “Don’t want on her bad side. Not that I’m sure she’s got another.”
“And as for you,” Sam said sweetly, then leaned across the bar and slapped J.D. upside the head. “I’ll say it again, have you lost your mind? I told you this deal with Bob Singer was a disaster. I warned you-”
“You touch me again and I’m gonna think that means you want me to touch back,” Morgan warned her softly, and Samantha’s eyes narrowed. “You always were gorgeous when you were ready to kick my ass.”
Jared quickly gulped down his drink, then his eyes about rolled up inside his head. “Good Christ, what is this?”
“Like it?” Sam said with a sly twist of lips as she poured black coffee for J.D. At Jared’s desperate nod, she let out a laugh and placed a single finger against her lips. “A girl’s gotta have her secrets, cutie.”
“Oh, for…he’s only twenty-three, Sam,” Morgan said flatly, and Jared blushed bright red as Sam scowled.
“And you’re disgusting.”
“I wasn’t…I didn’t mean to,” Jared floundered hopelessly, gaze flicking between Morgan and Samantha. He was already feeling the effects of Samantha’s magical concoction, and her knowing smile seemed to go a bit fuzzy around the edges. He reached out and grounded himself with a palm to the bar counter as she leaned over and spoke in his ear.
“I know, sweetie. You’ve got someone else you’re trying to forget.”
Green-gold flashed across Jared’s eyes and he chugged down another greedy gulp. “Yeah. Got anything stronger?” he asked weakly, before his forehead met the cool countertop.
xxx
Jared woke the next morning to familiar fingers in his hair, a tired voice humming over his head. He kept his eyes shut just a moment longer, wanting to bask in the dreamy state of being back in Jensen’s arms, for whatever reason, before letting reality intrude and remind him of why this was no longer such a good thing.
It was a hard habit to break.
“What’re you doing here?” he finally forced himself to ask.
Jensen’s thigh jumped under his cheek and the stroking of his fingers immediately stilled. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said, something of an apology weighing down his voice. He dropped his hands carefully into his lap as Jared moved to sit up. “And…I wanted to see you. Alone.”
“You followed us.” It wasn’t a question, and Jared already knew the answer even as he caught the glimmer of guilt in his husband’s green eyes before Jensen’s gaze flickered away.
“One of my more exasperating qualities,” Jensen said without a trace of irony. He tried for a smile that fell just a little flat at the corners, and Jared’s fingers twitched with the urge to reach out. Smooth it all away. “Was kind of surprised how easy it still is, but I guess it’s just one of those things that’re hard to forget completely.”
“Well,” Jared said after a beat of awkward silence. Jensen was staring at him again. “Congratulations.”
“The bartender...” Jensen’s nose wrinkled as and Jared turned away to hide a small smile.
“Sam?” he prodded gently.
“Right, Samantha.”
Jensen stretched out his legs, his thigh brushing up against Jared’s. Neither one of them mentioned it, but Jared knew Jensen was just as aware of the maneuver as himself.
“She said this place would be safe.” Jensen gestured around the small stockroom, and Jared’s eyes took in the walls and shadows. “It’s a speakeasy, held over from the Prohibition. They used it to house moonshine, so the authorities still don’t even know it’s here.”
“But you do,” Jared said, and Jensen flinched.
“That where we stand now, Jay?” His voice held a soft, defeated query. “On opposite sides of the fence?”
“Didn’t we always?” It came out harder, more bitter than Jared had even known he could still be about it. “This…me, it was never what you wanted. Not really.”
Jensen met his gaze steadily. “You’re wrong.”
“We were only fooling ourselves,” Jared continued, ignoring the protest that immediately rounded Jensen’s lips. He held up a hand. “No, please. For once, just. Just tell me the truth.”
It was quiet for long seconds afterward; Jensen’s heavy breathing the only break in the monotonous stillness. Then, “I never lied to you, Jared, and that’s the truth.”
Jared laughed and rubbed his eyes. “Why are you making this so damned hard-”
“Why are you trying to make it so damned easy?” Jensen interrupted, low, angry. Before Jared could blink, Jensen was there…hovering over him in the semi-darkness and glaring at him from under heavy lids. Jared’s breath caught. “Because getting rid of me won’t be easy, Jay. I can promise you that.”
“Are you threatening me?” Jared shot for tough, and his voice came out thick and unsettled instead.
Jensen’s eyes roamed his face, tongue wetting his lips as he straddled Jared’s thighs. “Maybe.” He leaned in, and Jared closed his eyes at the sweet press of mouth and tongue against his neck. “Maybe I need to remind you just who I am, what I’m capable of.”
It shot a vivid, sexual thrill through him despite himself, and Jared swallowed hard. Clenched his hands into tight fists as the smell, the feel of Jensen practically overwhelmed. Jensen knew exactly where to touch, kiss, tease him, and within seconds Jared was harder than diamond.
“Like I could forget,” he whispered, turning at the last second so that the kiss Jensen aimed at his mouth missed its mark. “I s-saw the pictures. Remember?”
Jensen froze, cheek-to-Jared’s cheek, and then the sweep of those long lashes brushed his nose before, “Tell me what to do, Jay. Please.”
He fought it as long as he could, the heat from Jensen’s gaze on his face, his mouth, and then he reached out. Shaking fingers dragged his husband in closer, Jensen a willing victim as he ground his hips and let himself be handled.
“I don’t trust you,” Jared gritted out through his teeth, already pulling Jensen’s shirt over his head and rubbing his mouth against that soft-sweet spot that raised chills across his husband’s skin. “But I want you.”
Jensen’s hips rolled again on a hiss; he pulled back and looked down at Jared through half-lidded, sad eyes. “I’ll take it…for now. Fuck me,” Jensen muttered. Fingers digging into Jared’s shoulders, deep enough to bruise. “Gimme your dick, Jay. Lemme make it all better.”
Jared was tempted to try. "Sex was never our problem, Jensen." He hesitated as Jensen's fingers plucked at the buttons of his fly, reaching in and, ah, God. "And this isn't...it won’t..."
Jensen ducked his head; warm, wet mouth swallowed Jared's cock and he gave in with a muffled curse. Grabbed hold of Jensen's head and felt the hollows of his cheeks, the erotic slip-and-slide of his dick pressed up against the inside.
“Harder,” he hissed, and Jensen groaned and glanced up at him through his lashes. It was too fucking much, and Jared’s fingers tightened on the nape of his neck. Jensen started to nibble along the length of his shaft, murmuring with pleasure every time Jared’s hips hitched.
“This how you plan to make it up to me?” he husked out, so, so close to losing it right down Jensen’s throat.
Jensen answered with a lick around the head of his cock, holding Jared’s heavy gaze. Jared bit his lip and let his eyes fall shut as he came in an explosion of heat and pain and pleasure, Jensen’s throat tight all around him.
“Wakey, wakey, eggs and…holy shit.” J.D. yelped and slapped a hand over his comical expression. The door slammed shut, and Jared stared over Jensen’s stiff shoulders, mouth hanging wide open in shock.
Jensen stayed silent as he raised his head, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and met Jared’s gaze again. Jared was the first to break, shaking with nearly hysterical laughter as he dropped his head back against the wall.
“Jesus,” he got out between breathless chuckles. “His face.”
Jensen’s eyebrow quirked the usual way it did whenever he was annoyed or just plain uncertain of the situation. For some reason that just made Jared laugh even harder, until he was doubled over his knees, almost missing the sound of rough and heavy knocking.
“Enough already,” J.D.’s growl snapped through the small room. “It’s nearly dawn.”
This information seemed to mean something in particular to Jensen, who immediately straightened up with a curse. Jared came to his feet, too, struggling to buckle his belt as Jensen watched him with hunger and something better left unmentioned glittering behind green-gold and black.
“I have to get back,” Jensen said, hesitating in front of the door as Jared finished buttoning his pants. “One of Ostroff’s goons will probably be by the house soon.” Jensen’s mouth twisted. “They stay all fucking day…like you’d ever be stupid enough to come back home-”
“I thought you didn’t know who was tailing you,” Jared interrupted, and saw Jensen’s expression blanch before he quickly covered it back up. Something cold knotted in Jared’s stomach, even as Jensen turned to fully face him again. So sincere and innocent.
“Detective Morgan filled me in when I got here,” Jensen said, not quite meeting his gaze.
I never lied to you, Jared, and that’s the truth.
Jared’s smile didn’t quite make it. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”
Jensen frowned and looked ready to question him when the door was thrown open, J.D. Morgan openly glaring at them. He took in Jensen from top to bottom, and his voice chilled the room by several degrees.
“Mr Ackles-Padalecki.” He didn’t sneer the words, but it was a near thing. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Detective.” Jensen’s tone held equal hostility at the clear dismissal, before his gaze flicked toward Samantha and softened just slightly. He nodded. “Ma’am. I’ll just see myself out.”
J.D. barely waited until Jensen was out the back door before turning on Jared with heavy, drawn brows. “Are you crazy, kid?”
“Me?” Jared wanted to know, slumping back on the floor and shoving a shaky hand through his hair. “I didn’t let him in here, and besides…you’re the one who said he was the best lead we had!”
“And I meant it,” Morgan snapped, letting the door shut after him as he came inside. “Something’s missing from the big picture here, and I think your precious husband knows more than he’s letting on.”
Jared was starting to believe it, too. But it was too deeply ingrained in him to deny the accusation against Jensen, already jumping to his husband’s defense even as he remembered the odd little flash in Jensen’s eyes that’d so disturbed him. “Jensen wouldn’t do that to me.”
J.D. scowled. “Seems I’ve heard that line before.”
“Haven’t you ever trusted anyone?” Jared asked, exasperated by the cold cynicism in the detective’s voice. “Yes, I know what Jensen did. But-but maybe he did have his reasons, like he said, and maybe-”
“Can’t live your life by maybes. Not if you wanna survive to see another day.”
“Guess that’s a no.” Jared glared right back at him. “Jesus Christ, and you think you can judge me and mine? Look at yourself! You’re practically drowning in liquor, so angry you can barely see straight. So, who fucked you over, Detective? Huh?”
There was a long beat of silence after that, and once the heat of his own frustration began to wear off, guilt prickled along Jared’s nerves as he took in the slightly ravaged look on Morgan’s face. He rubbed his forehead, pinched the bridge of his nose before saying, “Look…”
“You’re right,” J.D. blurted out. An almost comical expression of wariness lit his features as Jared blinked at him. “ I don’t trust anybody. I drink too fucking much, and yeah, I’d like nothing more than to fuck over the world that’s fucked me.”
“Well,” Jared managed, at a loss for further words in the face of J.D.’s outburst. They both remained silent for several minutes, and then Morgan let out a disgusted sigh.
“Anyway, I can’t imagine trust has anything to do with letting some guy...” He made a face, gesturing toward his lap with flushed cheeks and not quite meeting Jared’s gaze.
It took a minute for Jared to catch on, and then he snorted. “Yeah, well, believe me. That takes the most trust of all.”
J.D.’s lips tilted just so. “Yeah, that ain’t what I meant, kid.”
“You’re wondering why I didn’t just settle down with some pretty little thing in a short skirt and heels,” Jared deduced, and knew by the slight guilt in Morgan’s eyes that he’d guessed correctly. He dropped his head back against the wall. “Well, so do I.”
“So says the guy with a husband.”
Jared had to laugh at that. “Nah, for me, it’s like…” He waved a hand uselessly. “It’s not about the parts, you know? With Jensen, it’s all about the whole. His gender has no bearing on the matter.”
“I bet that was fun explaining to the press,” Morgan said, and Jared slanted him a sideways glance.
“It’s not completely unheard of, you know,” he said lightly, but the words rang hollow. “Anyway, they were way more interested in his past and mine than they were about what we were doing in the bedroom.”
“Don’t ever believe that, kid.” Morgan’s look had gone from uncomfortable to downright unhappy. “I may have done some research,” he hedged. Then, “So, it’s true, then? He used to work the streets?”
“He was the streets,” Jared corrected. “Worked it, ran it…the first time I met him, he took one look at me and dismissed me like I was nothing, man. And I was everything--just finished my first big picture, swimming in dollar signs and Bob just kept on promising me more.”
“So, what happened?”
Jared shrugged. “I kept doggin’ him. Showing up, screwing him up. He finally let me buy him dinner - not a date mind you, and I wasn’t no fucking client. His words, not mine. Just a dinner.” He smirked, remembering. “It must’ve been something special because I remember him scarfing it down and watching me with those big, bruised green eyes that didn’t trust me at all. Like I wasn’t completely fascinated. I took him home and he said, “Hell, I’m still not gonna sleep with you, pretty boy.” Then shoved his tongue right down my throat, pulled out my dick and…shit, sorry.” Jared rubbed a shaky hand down his face, chuckling. “That memory kind of has a mind of its own sometimes.”
Morgan grunted and shifted his legs. “Just do me a favor, kid. When this is all over? Shoot me and put me outta my misery.”
Jared dropped his head against his knees and laughed until the backs of his lids were wet. Without opening his eyes he said, “So, can I ask you something?”
“I have a feeling I’m gonna regret it, but sure. What the hell?”
Jared lifted his head again, held J.D.’s gaze with serious interest. “How are you so damn sure I didn’t do it? Kill Eric, I mean.”
Morgan grinned and looked ready to toss off something joking and wry. Then, to Jared’s shock, “Maybe I needed to believe in somethin' after all.”
Jared’s lips curved and he nodded once. “All right, then.” He waited a beat, eyes twinkling, before adding, “Jeffrey Dean.”
“Don’t make me knock you out, kiddo.” But there wasn’t anything but a sort of fondness coloring J.D.’s tone, and Jared knew they’d finally reached a level of understanding he could appreciate. He didn’t have long to savor it, though, as the sound of footsteps announced Sam’s arrival just seconds before she threw open the door.
“What’s up, Sam?” J.D. asked, going from carefree to hard-boiled in the blink of an eye.
“Judge Ostroff is outside. She wants to see you.” Sam’s eyes went hard and worried as she glanced over at Jared. “And she knows we have Jared.”
xxx
Jared didn’t much care for having to sit back and hide while Jeff went to do his dirty work for him, but he wasn’t stupid, either. Ostroff had the Terminal Bar surrounded and from what he could gather by Sam’s over-excited chatter, there were two ways this could end: bad or ugly.
He pressed up tight against the far left wall where there was the smallest of peepholes, watching the proceedings while the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up every time he caught a glimpse of the grim delight in the Judge’s eyes.
“Now, Detective,” she purred in that low, sweetened voice. “I have it on good authority that Padalecki is here. You wouldn’t be trying to pull my chain, would you?”
“Would I do that?” Morgan asked, the face of innocence. Jared winced when the short blonde flanking his friend pulled out a knife roughly the size of her own forearm. She waved it threateningly Jeff’s way, but he just cleared his throat. “Mind telling her to point that thing someplace else?”
“Kristen,” came Ostroff’s short command, and the blonde immediately came to heel. Like a trained dog, Jared thought disgustedly. Though there was definitely something not quite tamed lurking in those big, blue eyes.
“Look, I’ve already told your men everything they wanted to know,” J.D. said, managing to strike the perfect chord of impatience and respect. “Just last night, in fact. When they barricaded me. In my own home.”
“An unfortunate circumstance, I’m sure.” Ostroff’s cold gaze swept across the room, and Jared pulled away from the tiny hole in the wall. Held his breath, until that voice rang out again, “The only problem, Detective, is that good authority I spoke of before.”
“I was never much of a fan of authority,” Morgan drawled, and Jared fought down hysterical laughter as Sam nearly bumbled a platter of clean dishes in the background.
“Padalecki’s husband led us to believe he’d been here,” Ostroff snapped, apparently at the end of her own patience in the wake of Morgan’s smirking demeanor. Jared’s heart went cold; the easy mask slipped from Jeff’s features. Ostroff seemed pleased by the reaction, and circled in closer, dropping her voice to a murmur. “You should know, Detective. You just…can’t…trust anyone.”
The haunted fury that twisted Jeff’s features nearly sent Jared’s fist through the wall, but it was Sam’s quietly angry voice broke the helpless spell Judge Ostroff seemed to have Jeff under. “That’s enough,” she said, and pointed toward the door with a shaking finger. “I won’t have you disrupting my clients this way, Judge. I’m sorry; I’ll have to ask you to come back…preferably with a warrant.”
The look that the little blonde mercenary slanted Samantha’s way shriveled Jared’s balls, but Sam held her head high and her gaze remained steady on Ostroff. The Judge watched her silently for a moment, something of a smile lifting the corners of her mouth before she nodded.
“Very well.” With a flick of the wrist, her henchmen followed her toward the door. “But let it be known, Detective. If you have any part in housing a known murderer…well.” She let the threat hang in the air. “Well…”
And then she was gone.
Having snapped out of his daze, Jeff leveled several particularly colorful curses after her and Sam walked over to pull the latch tight. She spun around then, eyeing J.D. with mingled concern and ferocity. “What now?”
“I need a drink,” came Jeff’s terse reply. At Sam’s darkened look he added, “Maybe he wasn’t so careful leaving as he thought.”
“But she said…he told her…”
“And she could’ve very well been trying to trip us up.” Jeff paced the length of the bar, scratching the day’s growth of salt-and-pepper beard on his chin. “It wouldn’t take much of a genius to know you can get to the damn kid through Ackles.”
Jared swallowed at that simple truth, closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the cool wall. It was another, filthier curse that had him snapping his eyes open to see Jeff picking up what looked to be the day’s newspaper.
“When did this get here?”
Sam looked as baffled as Jared felt. “I…the newsboy brought it in just after Jensen left.”
Jared met J.D. at the door as the detective threw it open and all but pulled him out. “I think I found our connection,” he said shortly, excitement brimming behind his eyes as he thrust the front page under Jared’s nose.
The fuzzy, captioned image was one of a smiling Bob Singer…newly appointed vice-president of the CW television network.
“Oh, Jesus,” Jared said, reaching out blindly behind him for something to sit on. Sam shoved a chair under him just in time, and he lifted betrayed eyes Jeff’s way. “You…but he never said anything. There wasn’t even a whisper…”
“With Eric out of the way, the script still belongs to the WB,” J.D. interrupted, obviously trying to nail down the specifics while Jared was struggling just to keep up. “He hadn’t had time to pull out, right?”
“I don’t know,” Jared said. “I mean, according to Eric and Bob it was going to be huge. There were so many people involved in the damn thing-”
“Well, where the hell is it?”
“I’ve only seen unfinished copies.” Jared’s mind was spinning with the new details. “I…Jensen. Jensen’s seen it. I think. Eric would’ve shown him. It was much more their baby than mine; I was just along for the ride.” He took a deep breath and blurted out the question that had been plaguing his mind non-stop. “You don’t think Jensen…”
He trailed off helplessly, and Jeff’s jaw worked for long seconds before he grunted and turned on his heel, stalked toward the phone hanging on the wall beside Sam’s head. Jared and Sam stared at one another in confusion as Jeff dialed a number and asked to be put through to Singer Corp.
“Jeff,” Jared started, nearly missing the surprised look Samantha shot his way at the slip of the name. “Maybe we should-”
“Singer, it’s Morgan. Yeah. I’ve got something you might want to see.” Jeff paused and then, “Trust me; you’ll want to make time for this. Turns out I’m a helluva P.I.”
Jared couldn’t hear what was being said on the other end of the line, but judging by the satisfied look on J.D.’s face, Bob was going for the bait hook, line and sinker.
“Great. I’ll meet you there tonight.” He slammed the phone down and pointed at Jared. “And you’re coming with me.”
xxx
“You told him you had the script, didn’t you?” Jared laid a hand on Jeff’s shoulder as they got out of the car and forced the other man to pull up short, face him directly. Voice deadly serious, Jared said, “What if he tries to hurt you?”
“Please.” J.D. shrugged him off and gave a nasty, lop-sided smile. “I can handle a fucking Hollywood creampuff, Padalecki.” He took toward the darkened main building of Singer Corp., then added over his shoulder, “Especially with a big lug like you covering my back. If you see anything, beep the horn twice. You need to make a run for it, then you head for the outskirts of town like we talked about. You know where.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Jared said through his teeth, hunching inside the oversized coat and hanging back in the shadows. He watched Jeff enter the building and heaved a frustrated sigh, dragging his foot up to rest on the faded brick behind him as he glanced both ways down the street. “Practically out in the fucking open.”
He heard the click of a hammer before he spun around and locked eyes with Jensen, and the awful truth sank inside his stomach like lead.
Jensen pointed the barrel of a shiny black pistol at him, offered something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Don’t make any sudden movements, Jay.”
“Jesus, “Jared said, voice tight and raw with grief. “Jeff was right.”
“I’m sorry,” Jensen said, eyes flashing with something Jared was too destroyed by to understand. He cocked the gun and pointed it straight and steady at Jared’s head. “Now listen carefully, baby. I need you to come with me, and keep real quiet.”
“Go to hell.” Jared sneered the words, barely able to enjoy the fleeting surprise that darkened Jensen’s expression before it was masked again. His chest, everything hurt. “You were involved all along. Why? What’s in it for you, Jensen? Damn it.”
Jensen’s voice edged toward frustration as Jared took a step forward. “I don’t have time to explain. I need you to do exactly what I say-”
“I’m not going anywhere with you, so you might as well shoot me. Baby.” Jared’s voice cracked on the endearment, and Jensen flinched. His mouth flattened, hard and thin, but Jared didn’t miss the trembling in his fingers. His husband was bluffing.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jensen blurted out then, and Jared’s lips tilted into a wry, pained smile.
“More lies from that pretty mouth,” he said, and moved in. Jensen’s grip on the gun faltered, his eyes went wide and then Jared had him up against the wall with his fingers tight around Jensen’s wrist.
“Do it, then.” He hissed out the words, nose to nose, forcing the gun to his temple. Jensen’s eyes flashed green fire at him, and Jared bared his teeth. “Pull the trigger, Jensen. For once in your goddamn life…follow through on something. ”
“I’m sorry,” Jensen said again, licking those soft, pretty lips, and Jared’s eyes narrowed. There was a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye, and he reacted on instinct, turning toward the new threat as Jensen brought the butt of his weapon down hard against Jared’s skull.
His knees immediately buckled under him; pain flashed a red streak across his vision, and strong arms caught him around the waist before the hard ground could rise up and meet him.
“Shh, I’ve got you now,” Jensen was crooning as if from far away, and Jared stared up into his blurry face, those shining, bright eyes for all of a second before letting out a groan and falling into blissful darkness.
Go on to ACT III (JENSEN)
Go back to MASTER POST