Marconi Plays the Mamba, Part Two
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Title: Marconi Plays the Mamba
Author: tcs1121
Artist: 2blueshoes
Pairing and Characters: Jensen/Jared, Felicia Day, Alaina Huffman, DJ Qualls, Chad Michael Murry, Misha Collins, Osric Chau, Katie Cassady, Genevieve Cortese,
Cameos and mentions: Jim Beaver, Sandy McCoy, Mark Pellegrino, Mark Sheppard, Richard Speight, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Brock Kelley, Alona Tal Rob Benedict, Bryan Norcross, Jim Cantore
Rating: NC-17
Genre: J2 AU, romantic comedy, some hurt/comfort
Word Count: ~34,500
Warnings: No Warnings outside of the sexual activities associated with the rating.
Disclaimer: Untrue story. Character names are being used without permission. No money changes hands.
~~*~~*~~Special Thanks to~~*~~*~~
My longtime friend and beta kee Who is so very special.
To my artist 2blueshoes who captured the essence of Jensen's smiles :-)
The art master post is HERE Please take a look and send your love. <3
To wendy Tireless moderator for the SPN J2 Big Bang year after year after year. Thank you, wendy!
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A/N 1: If you don't understand Chad, it's because he speaks in Jimmy Buffett lyrics
A/N 2: All restaurants named are real. I didn't make up any of them.
Summary:
Jensen is a local Florida weatherman who is known for his handsome face and winning smiles. Although he gave up the dream of becoming a real meteorologist, he is extremely passionate about the weather. And, eventually, Jared.
Jared is a brilliant computer programmer whose company, PMC (Padalecki, Morgan, Collins) gets contracted by Jensen's TV studio to revamp their software. Jared speaks fluent Mexican Restaurant Menu Spanish and has strong affection for weather. And, eventually, Jensen.
It's all fun and games until deadly weather threatens their town. Then, it's up to them to save Coconut Bay.
~~*~~*~~
Back to Part One
~~*~~*~~
Jensen met Jared on Saturday morning at Pita Pan right next to Wok This Way. Jared had his head buried in the menu, but something about his posture was off.
"Hey, you," Jensen said, pulling out a chair at the sidewalk bistro table.
Jared saw Jensen and shined like the sun on a Perfect Coconut Bay Saturday at Brunch. "Hey yourself."
"What’s up? Nothing good on the menu?" Jensen opened his Pita Pan menu to the Lost Coffee page.
"No, it all looks good, but I have something to tell you."
"Is it bad?" He looked up.
"I don’t know-I don’t know if I can do it."
"Do what?" Jensen attempted casual, but sounded pitiful.
Jared shrugged.
Jensen semi-stood and leaned in close to Jared whispering, "Did I do something wrong last night?"
"Sort of."
Jensen’s heart sank, and as he was deciding whether his Number Nine or Fifteen would be more reassuring, Jared continued, earnestly, "I said I wanted to get to know you. You know, get to know you better."
"I know. I know you did. I want to get to know you better, too. Is that going to be a problem?" Jensen asked. "Because I can try to fix whatever I did bad." He resisted the urge to finger comb his hair and check his breath.
"No. Shit, you don’t understand." Jared blinked, obviously looking for the right words. "I want to be a gentleman and date you properly. You know, do it right like get to know your favorite colors, favorite foods, hopes and dreams."
"But?"
"But all I want to do is kiss you senseless every time I see you, and it’s all I can do right now not to throw you over this little table and blanket you with me." He turned away.
Jensen sat with a thunk, his cheeks burning so hard he was afraid the menu would burst into flames. Not to mention that the sudden hard pressure on the fly of his jeans made him gasp for air.
"Uh…" Jensen choked.
"Does that make me a bad person, Jensen?" Jared sounded like he really wanted to know. "Does it?"
"I don’t, I don’t, I can't…"
"Hi boys, what can I start you with today?"
"Coffee," they said in unison.
"Black," said Jensen
"Lotsa cream and sugar," said Jared.
"And ice water," they said.
"Sure thing. I’ll be right back for your orders."
Jensen frowned. "Cream and sugar?"
"Yeah, lots. Is that going to be a problem?"
Jensen thought a moment. "My favorite color is blue, well, teal, and my favorite food is pulled pork with my mom’s tangy Carolina Barbecue Sauce-that’s the barbecue sauce made with vinegar-and my hopes and dreams depend on the weight capacity of this bistro table."
Jared laughed, relieved. "I really don’t want to come on too strong, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night."
"I had some trouble sleeping myself. I was rocking and rolling all night thinking about, you know, everything. So, I think we need to come up with a plan to move forward," he brought his voice down to a whisper, "sexually," and then added, "and still get to know one another properly because, seriously, we both totally need sleep."
"Totally," Jared said, and extended his hand.
Jensen didn’t have to pull anything out of his arsenal as his smile was 100% genuine. Not accustomed to PDAs, he shyly slid his hand into Jared’s and realized it was as easy as that. Especially after looking into Jared’s smiling eyes.
Jensen leaned in. "You know," he whispered.
"What?" Jared moved in close enough to share the same breath. "What do I know?"
"Coffee, black." The waitress slid the cup in front of Jensen. "And this one with lots of cream and sugar." She sloshed the cup in front of Jared.
"So, what can I do you for?" The smiling waitress pulled out a pen.
"So, uh," Jensen got his thoughts together. "I’ll have the Think Happy Thoughts omelet with sausage and some You’ll Get Hooked hash browns with green peppers." He handed the menu back.
"I understand the ham and cheese quiches here are so light they could fly," Jared said. "I’ll have one of those and the Pixie Dust Danish with extra pixie dust for dipping."
"Sure thing."
Jensen sideeyed Jared. "You’ve been here before."
"Of course. I wanted to make sure I took you somewhere that had a magical cuisine. Because, because, you, uh, make me kinda believe in magic." Jared blushed furiously.
"Wow, that should have made me snark something snarky at you, but instead I thought it was sweet." Jensen shook his head. "What is wrong with me?"
"It’s because we’re stone cold sober." Jared chuckled. "I think we should order some I Won’t Grow Up Mimosas after the Pixie Danish so we can say we had an excuse for all the sweet things we’re about to say to each other."
Jensen smiled in agreement. "I think I’ll need several Crocodile’s Clock screwdrivers, because I have a feeling that we’re going to be talking beautiful weather together."
Jensen and Jared weaved hand in hand towards Jensen’s house several long blocks away.
"We shouldn’t a gotten the, the, A Pirate’s Life For Me Mojitos," Jensen slurred.
"An’ we definitely lee, shouldn’t have gotten three each," Jared hiccupped, Cer'inly not 'fter the screwdrivers and the I Won't Grow Up Mimo…Mimos…Mimosh."
"Mimosh," Jensen nodded. "No Mimosh next time." Except that next time sounded like nesht ime.
"I like the sound of that," Jared said with a lopsided grin. "Next time." Which also sounded like nesht ime.
They got to Jensen’s house and plopped on the sofa.
"That brunch was great. It was really, really great." Jensen realized he was drooling and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. "I really, really thought it was great-yeah. Brunch."
"Me, too. I did, too. We should always, and then, we should-always." Jared took a deep breath and grinned. "Yeah. I like food."
"I like you," Jensen said, scooting up close. "I like you even when I’m not drunk."
Jared’s eyes went soft. "That’s the nicest things anyone has ever said to me."
"You're cute, and nice and have pretty auburn highlights." Jensen sniffed Jared's hair and began planting small, drooling kisses on his head.
"And you have such great teeth." Jared leaned his head in closer to give Jensen more drooling space.
To show Jared that he was listening, Jensen went to nip him on the shoulder, but ended up biting his own tongue.
"You are very handsome and sexy and I like you very much. We should have sex," Jared said, sincerely. "I think we should try and sober up so I can have sex with you."
Jensen stopped whatever he was doing to Jared's shoulder and faced him. "Why do we have to be sober? I can do drunk sex. I'm really good at it. Let me show you."
Jensen stood to a wobbly stand and reached for his belt buckle.
"No!" Jared grabbed Jensen's wrists. "No, you can't! Not now!"
"Oh my God, why?" Jensen's eyes watered suddenly. "What did I do? Did I do it again?"
"Do what again?"
"That bad thing I did the other night that made you, that made you…" Jensen wiped his eyes. "I don't remember!"
"No, no, no, it's nothing like that," Jared took Jensen's hands in his. "I can't have sex with you because you're drunk."
"What?"
"You can't consent if you're drunk."
"Yes, I can. I really, really can." Jensen held three fingers up in the Boy Scout salute. "I conshent."
"I'm being a gentleman! I'm trying to be a gentleman, here." Jared was getting upset. "Wait a minute. I'm drunk so even I can't consent, and, dammit, I want to fuck you so bad." He began to sob.
"Stop," Jensen lowered his voice and tried not to slur his words. "Now, Jared. I am not drunk enough to not, I mean, I can, or cannot or anything. So, let's undress, okay?"
"Coffee."
"Naked?"
"No, lotsa cream and sugar, remember?"
Jensen huffed. "Okay, genty McGentleman, I'll compromise. Let's sober up enough to have consensual quasi-drunken sex, okay?"
"Is that even a thing?" Jared asked.
"It is if I say it is because this is my house and I can or cannot anything I want, all right?
Jared shot up off the couch. "You're on!"
After the second pot of extremely strong coffee was consumed, the pair was less drunk but buzzing like a hornet's nest and quivering with all the caffeine flowing through their veins.
"I don't think I'm too drunk anymore, but I don't think I can stay still long enough to have long, drawn out sex with you, and I want our first time to be good." Jared tapped his toes, tapped his heels, flipped his hair, and reached for the sugar.
"Yup, yup, I hear you, yup." Jensen's hands shook as he rocked back and forth gulping his tepid coffee. "I want it to be good for us, too. I hear you. Yup. But can we, like, do anything, like, almost but not quite sex or something? Something sexlike? You're nice and I like you."
"Thank you," Jared grinned, shyly, "I like you, too." His knees jerked up and down, but his smile was soft and genuine.
Jensen stopped rocking long enough to say, "We're a mess."
"We are."
"But you know something, Jared? In a small, very small, very tiny way, I appreciate your thoughtfulness about not coercing me into having drunken intercourse with you even though I was, and still am, fully, fully on board with that idea. It was sweet of you, though. I think."
"I'm better at everything when I'm not drunk. Except singing. I sing great when I'm drunk." Jared's jittery muscle movements had calmed. "Tell you what? Let's put on a Star Trek original series marathon and make out on the couch until we're both not strung out and see what happens, okay?"
"Would it bother you to know that I can recite the entire dialogue from This Side of Paradise from memory?" Jensen asked. "Jill Ireland was pretty hot."
Jared stood, put his hands behind his back à la Spock and said, " I have little to say about it, captain. Except that-for the first time in my life-I was happy."
Jensen was awestruck. "You know, I could probably love you if you gave me a chance." Awestruck and still a little drunk.
"A chance?" Jared reached for Jensen's hand to stand. "I'll give you a million."
Jared's first kiss was tentative and slightly shaky. Jensen took control and pressed his tongue between Jared's parted lips and tasted the sweet coffee he'd been drinking. They dragged each other to the couch, and dropped down, Jensen straddling Jared's lap.
Jared deepened the kiss, licking Jensen's lips, teeth and sucking on his tongue. Jensen moaned softly and opened wide because Jared was an awesome kisser.
Jared manhandled Jensen onto his back and leaned into him kissing, biting and rubbing his knuckles over Jensen's left nipple. Jensen didn't realize he was into being manhandled.
Cool.
"Fuck, Jared," Jensen breathed. "Can I at least take my shirt off?"
Jared shook his head and mouthed Jensen's right nipple over the cotton cloth covering it.
"God, Jay. You are so much more than pretty auburn highlights."
Jared snickered and whispered, "You ain't seen nothin' yet," before lowering his head to Jensen's fly. "And neither have I, but I'm sobering up nicely so I might be about to."
"Yeah, yeah, go for it. I'm sober. So very sober enough."
Jensen reached for his zipper pull, Jared licked his lips, and a little, tinny version of Margaritaville, started playing from Jared's back pocket.
"No, Chad, not now," Jared rejected the call and began unbuttoning Jensen's pants.
Jensen got his jeans down to his knees and Jared was tugging on the waistband of Jensen's briefs when Margaritaville started up again, and again, and, yet again.
"Shit, shit, shit." Jared squeezed his eyes shut.
"No, no, no," Jensen chanted.
Jared opened his phone and Jensen cried a little inside.
"What Chad, what?" Jared yelled.
Jared suddenly stood and Jensen watched all the color leach out of Jared's face.
"What, Chad?" He listened. "What?" After several minutes, he swallowed and blinked. "Okay. Okay, I will. Okay."
Jared gently closed his phone.
"What's wrong?"
Jared stated simply, "The system's freezing, automatically rebooting, and displaying the blue screen of death over and over, and they can't get it to reload. This is not good."
"No?"
"I have to go." Jared turned away, then said, "It's a good thing we had so much coffee. I may be up for the next forty-eight hours."
"I'll drive you. I'm not drunk anymore." Jensen reached for his keys.
"No, I'll walk. I'm going to the station, not my house. I parked my car there and walked to brunch. The walk back will let me think things through. I'm," Jared cleared his throat. "I'm really sorry about this. I hope you'll let me make it up to you."
Jared smiled weakly, but it was obvious that Jared had already checked out, and his brain was now working on the problem.
"No worries." Jensen shot his Number Four at him, since it was the only one he could think of at the moment.
Jensen sighed and Jared left.
Jensen texted, called and tried not to appear desperate when he showed up at the IT Bullpen a week later. Jared had been on radio silence since whatever went down, went down.
Unfortunately, the signs stuck to the IT cubicle weren't reassuring:
~~*~~*~~
I'd Turn Back If I Were You.
Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here
I don't know where I'ma gonna go when the volcano blow.
~~*~~*~~
Jensen fully understood this message and turned to leave, moving out of the way when Osric exited the doorway. He was uncharacteristically quiescent.
"Hey, Osric. What's up?"
"Hi, Weatherman. Jared's not here."
Osric's eyes were tired and there was a slump to his step.
"What happened? Where's Jared? Are you okay?"
"Massive system failure. Not getting any better. Jared's working offsite. I'm not okay. He's not okay. Nobody's okay."
"If the system's down, how have we been getting our news streams? Alona and Rob have stayed on the air all week." Jensen followed Osric.
"Internet and cable TV. Chad and Katie take turns compiling the local and national news for your broadcast team. Big Jim gets his own sports updates from somewhere." He bit his lip, looking like he was keeping it from quivering. "I'm mortified. We're better than this. We are rock solid IT, dammit." He frantically smoothed the logo on his shirt.
"How did it happen?" Jensen held the exit door open.
"We don't know. Could be the ancient servers, the primordial routers, antiquated hardware or hidden trip wires in the code."
"Trip wires?"
"Don't ask."
"Do you think," Jensen cleared his throat, "do you think Jared would mind if I dropped by his house? Where is his house?"
Osric shot a sad look Jensen's way. "Jared's in the zone. He won't be resurfacing for a while. Genevieve will make sure he's fed and hydrated, but I suggest you stay away until his brain is back online and he reemerges to the land of the living."
Jensen dropped his head.
"Hey, weatherman, it's nothing personal," he said encouragingly. "He likes you."
"He does?" And yes, Katie was right. They were twelve. "I mean, that's good. I'm glad. And I'm glad he's relatively okay."
"I'll let him know you came by, the next time he speaks." Osric unlocked his 24-speed hybrid mountain/street bike, donned his Iron Man bike helmet, saluted Jensen and pedaled away.
"Even though Coconut Bay has the best weather around, we must never, ever take our sunshine for granted, because one day, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday, our sun could be plucked from our lives, leaving us all in a cold, damp shadow." Jensen sucked in a deep breath. "Remember, take your vitamins daily with the right doses of B6 and B12 for a healthy immune system." Jensen had the peace of mind to dust off his Number Seventeen. A soft, gentle smile looking dead into the camera lens.
"…and we're out. Holy Christ, Jensen, who kicked your puppy? You didn't Just Another Perfect anything. How come?"
"Shove it, Red. I’m not in the mood."
"Obviously." Felicia pulled her headphones to circle her neck and made a note on the clipboard.
"Oh, here." She handed him a small envelope.
"What is this?"
"One of the IT guys gave it to me to give to you."
Jensen tore the paper open to find an address scrawled in black ink.
"Felicia?"
"Hmm?"
"Have DJ rerun this noon segment for the evening forecasts. The weather won't change between then and now."
Jensen drove up to a beautiful, waterfront Florida cracker style home. It was a sprawling, white, two-story house with a covered wrap-around porch, white metal roof and clerestory walls with high windows to let in air and sunlight. An infinity pool facing the water gave the impression that the swimming pool was an extension of the blue-green Gulf of Mexico.
A beat-up green Jeep Wrangler sat in the driveway with a matte black Tesla Model 3 parked behind.
He used the brass pineapple door knocker for three solid thumps, and within a minute, the big oaken door swung wide.
Gone was Kate Beckensale's shiny Underworld garb. Today, Genevieve bore a strange resemblance Morticia Addams. Not only the long, octopus-like fitted black gown, but her long, black hair, parted in the middle, pale face and deep red lips.
"I'm glad you're here." She didn't look glad.
"Thanks, I think."
"In there." She pointed a long, black-nailed finger down the hallway. Her voice was low and rough, either from disuse, or fatigue caused by cutting rose heads off of thorn bushes.
She glided past Jensen, snagged her little black purse with the PMC logo pinned to it, and floated out the door. The hiss of a Tesla followed by music blasting "…Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio! Don't you remember…"
Jensen made sure the door was locked and looked around. There was a wide central hallway ending at the kitchen, with rooms to either side. There was a staircase to the left and a sunroom to the right. He took a tentative step and called softly, "Jared? You home?"
A moan came from the second room on the right.
The room looked to be Jared's den. The wide picture windows with transom windows above, gave a beautiful view of the Gulf of Mexico. Jared's reading glasses lay face down on the brilliant white custom-built computer desk. On that desk were two desktop computers, two laptops, and several external hard drives. Three monitors surrounded Jared-who was beating his head on the surface in front of him.
Jensen rushed over, "Jared, hey, Jay, no, c'mon, stop, it's okay." He pulled Jared's beanie off and placed it where it would cushion Jared's banging head. "Jared, listen to me. It's Jensen. Everything's going to be okay."
Jared was a mess as he clutched blindly at Jensen's printed tee shirt that read: Get Your Head Out of the Cumulus
He thought it was funny at the time. In fact, he still chuckled to himself every time he pulled it on.
Right now, though, things weren't funny. "What is it, Jay? What's wrong? Please don't hurt yourself."
"Broken." Jared whispered. "It's all broken."
"What? Where?" Jensen ran his hands over Jared's head and shoulders. "Where is it broken?"
Jared stopped moaning and finally looked up. "Jensen?"
"Yes. Jensen. What's broken?" Jensen asked, anxiously. "Where are you hurt?"
"I'm-I'm not, the program is. The program we built for your studio is not rocking and or rolling like it's supposed to." He tried banging his head against his beanie, but apparently found it unsatisfying because he started pulling his hair.
"Stop, Jared. Don't hurt yourself, nothing is worth that." Jensen took both Jared's hands in his and looked into his eyes. "Nothing is worth that. Besides, you can fix it. I know you can."
Jared pulled his hands out of Jensen's grasp. "What is wrong with me? Why can't I figure it out?" He took the heel of his hand and smacked his forehead twice.
"Come on Jared, don't do this. Please." He physically held Jared back from pummeling himself. "Nobody rocks code like you guys do. You're the best at this. Don't you remember? You PMC guys built this city on rocking and rolling code. Remember? You built this city and you can fix it."
Why did Genevieve have to play that song?
"You don't know that." Jared sagged where he sat. The fight was out of him. "You don't. All I know is that I can't fail at this, I can't."
He finally looked up with reddened eyes. "Jensen, this is what we do, this is what I do for a living. With my life. What I do so well that I can live in a house by the water. What I do so well that all Jeff has to do is mention the PMC record for successful builds, and contracts flow our way. I cannot let this business down. I cannot let my team down. I cannot let you and your station down."
"That's why you and your team will figure it out. Pounding your head into mush will not accomplish anything. And it sure as hell won't repair the system or help promote PMCs reputation." Jensen stoked Jared's hair as he spoke.
Jared squeezed his eyes shut in abject despair.
A bolt of pure emotion shot through Jensen's psyche. He had never felt so scared, so helpless and so determined to help someone in his life. This was important. Jared was important. Jensen shook Jared's shoulders forcefully. "Look at me, Jay."
Jared shook his head.
"I. Said. Look. At. Me."
That got through because Jared breathed twice through his nose and looked up.
"Jared," Jensen kept his voice low and steady. "You are the master at figuring out puzzles and putting them to code. You, are the master at unwinding glitches, anomalies and hiccups and finding brilliant, ingenious, solutions for them. You, Jared Padalecki, have a brain big enough, wise enough, and smart enough to diagnose, treat, and cure any curses, hexes, spells or whammies that Big Mark or Little Mark or that Dick may have used to booby trap the system. You got this."
Jared sniffed. Jensen, in all his nerdy geekiness, continued the only way he knew how.
"Jared, even though your system may be barely alive, you can rebuild it. I know you can. You can rebuild it because you have the technology, you have the capability, and because you are better, stronger and faster than you were before."
Jared's eyebrows pulled together in thought. He mouthed the words, better, stronger and faster to himself until his eyes gleamed.
"I get it. It's because I'm bionic, right? I'm the bionic computer programmer?" He sat straight. "I'm the Six Million Dollar bionic programmer, right?"
"Maybe?" Jensen answered. "I mean, yes. Yes, you can do anything because, because…"
"Can I have a telescopic eye, too? I love that Steve Austin had cross hairs when he zeroed in on something."
"Yes," Jensen said with a sigh. "You can have a telescopic eye, even one that makes a sound when it's targeting something, and you can run sixty miles an hour."
"And throw something into space?"
"But only with your right arm," Jensen instructed.
"Okay. Good thing I'm right-handed, then." Jared heaved in a breath and let it out.
He looked at Jensen, really looked at him. A fond smile crossed his lips.
Jensen eyed Jared to assess his status and found that he was breathing normally, the sweating had stopped, and, more importantly, he' d stopped banging his head.
Jared's arms came around Jensen in a tender embrace. "Thank you. Thank you for being here. Thank you for talking to me. Thank you for your faith in me. Thank you for your geek references. Thank you for everything."
"Oh Jared. You don't have to thank me." Jensen leaned into Jared and held tight. "Are you going to be okay? I really want you to be okay."
"As long as you're around to keep me on track with old TV intros, I should be just fine."
"That can be arranged. Listen," Jensen recited, "There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. And then something about the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. Does it work if I only know some of the intro? I think I know all of this one, Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings…"
Jared covered Jensen's lips with his, drowning his words and using his tongue to lick them out of his mouth. Jared whispered into Jensen's ear, "You can shut up now."
Jensen thought he should be angry, or embarrassed, but all he felt was good. He felt good because Jared was finally resurfacing. "Okay," Jensen said between kisses. "Shutting up, now."
Jared calmed and he took back his tongue. He took in a long, cleansing breath and let it out.
"You are good for me," he said. "For so many reasons."
Then he looked Jensen up and down several times and snickered. Then he grabbed Jensen and hugged him close laughing out loud. "Jensen, Jensen, Jensen, you are too much."
Jensen's head was spinning. He didn't know to be worried or relieved, but he decided to go along with it. "Jared, Jared, Jared," he repeated back while bear-hugging him. "You are too much, too."
Jared's laughter was contagious and a little hysterical, but it was music to Jensen's ears. As Jared's laughter wound down, Jensen stroked his sweaty hair and kissed his head. "Are you okay, now?"
"I guess once I get my head out of the cumulus I will be. I'm not great," Jared breathed deep again, "but I am better because you're here. I'll tell you all about it later, but first I need food and, and, you."
"And me?"
"You," he kissed Jensen softly. "I now know we are MFEO because after your geek TV references-your geek weather tee shirt was the last straw I needed to snap me out of a deep zone melt down."
"I didn't understand a word you said." Jensen replied. "But I know what my nose is telling me, and it's that you need a shower before you do anything else."
Jared raised his eyebrows.
"No, Jared. You really need a shower." He steered Jared toward the door. "Where's your bathroom?"
"Pick one. I have five."
"You pick one. I'll try to find something edible in the kitchen." He shoved him out the door. "Nice digs, by the way."
"Thanks." Jared sniffed his armpits and paled. "Holy shit. Something died under my arms."
"I know. After I find something for us to eat, I'll locate your washing machine."
"My hero."
"Hey, Jay? MFEO?"
"Made for each other."
"I know, and boy, that really is nerdy of us. Now go," Jensen pointed to the hall. "Wash."
"Okay, okay. But I think you should know that I like it when you're bossy."
"Now."
Jared exaggerated a shiver.
Jensen laughed and headed for the kitchen.
Jared's called from the hall, "Bread's in the bread drawer, there's another freezer in the pantry if you can't find anything you like, and help yourself to anything you can find. I have no idea what's in there." Jared climbed up three steps. "Thanks for coming."
"You're welcome. I should probably tell you that I can't cook," Jensen shouted out the doorway. "Like, at all."
Jared answered, "I don’t care."
"You say that now."
Fortunately, macaroni and cheese was next to impossible to mess up. Toast, coffee, bacon and bag salad with poppyseed dressing rounded up the meal. With pop-tarts for dessert.
Jared chose to crumble his bacon into his mac and cheese. It looked good, but Jensen felt it diminished the mac and cheese's raison d'être.
"Can you tell me what's going on? What happened to the program?" Jensen decided against toasting the strawberry pop-tart before eating it.
"You get your own weather streams and put your own forecasts together, so this won't affect you as much as the news, business, and sports guys." Jared crumbled some more bacon into his salad.
"What won't?" He should have toasted the pop-tart. It tasted too doughy or something.
Jared took in a breath. "We were installing the preliminary updates to the new operating system we created, when the system shut down without warning and wouldn't reboot. At first, I thought it was an error in the code that caused the blue screen, and not the hardware since the hardware, old as it was, was working as the updates were being uploaded. But then all the processors and all the hard drives horked up, almost like there was a ghost in the machine." He shook his head sadly.
"Do you know how to fix it?"
"No." Jared stood and stretched. "No, I don't, and I should. Most of the new program is based on my own precise coding not willy-nilly coding that takes days to debug. I've been over it and over it, and can't find any major bugs or errors. I mean, there are always bugs in a new program, but not one that causes this." Jared made jazz hands.
"Can you start over?"
"If we can't find and correct the problem, we're going to have to, but we're already behind schedule and are going over budget soon. But the hardest thing to come to terms with, the hardest thing, is that I can't figure it out. I mean, I'm a master trendsetter, not a n00b who puts out kludge software!"
"I know, I know." Jensen didn't know. "I'll help you anyway I can. I get all the internet and cable news streams and sport's news from my system at home along with my weather information, and I can help Katy compile the stuff the local viewers are most interested in until your non-kludge coding is up and running."
Jensen really didn't know.
"You're so kind, but Katie and Chad are all over it while Osric and Big Jim are handling the sports info. Misha's working furiously on rewriting strings of my code, even though he swears he can't find anything wrong with it. Everybody's working hard trying to fix my mistakes. Even you. Here you are baby-sitting me and making me lunch? Dinner? Breakfast?"
"I don't mind. None of us minds. We're-I -I am here for you." Jensen refilled their coffee cups from the carafe. "We're having a late lunch, by the way."
"Thank you." Jared really had spectacular dimples. "Who's doing your weather spot?"
"I am." Jensen decided to throw the strawberry one away and toast the blueberry one with frosting and sprinkles.
"But you're here."
"Ah, the magic of television and the good fortune of unvarying weather. I asked Felicia to have DJ rerun the evening and nighttime forecasts from this afternoon."
Jensen sipped his coffee, waiting for the toaster to pop.
"You're the best," Jared praised.
"Aw shucks. Hey, if you don't mind," Jensen kept his voice evenly modulated. "I'd like to stick around here for a day or two, keeping the geek references coming, making eggs and toast-a specialty of mine-keeping you company if you need a friendly face to yell at. Although, you are not allowed to damage the face."
Jared silently stared as Jensen rambled nervously on. "I have lots of vacation time and, if needed, Brock can do the weather. He loves being on during the week."
"Thank you. That would be awesome."
"Oh, good." Jensen let out a relieved breath. "I'm not used to inviting myself to stay at people's houses and wasn't sure I was doing it right."
"You're doing it right. You're doing everything right. But I must warn you that I'll be buried in code, and won't be much fun." Jared looked sad. "I might not even know you're here."
"That's okay. I'll know I'm here."
"Are you for real?"
"I don't know," Jensen looked up through his lashes. "I might be bionic, too. I mean, look at this." Jensen unleashed his trademark Number One.
"Blue Steel," Jared whispered in mock awe. Channeling his inner Will Ferrell, he said, "Dear God. It's beautiful."
"Well, I am really, really, really ridiculously good-looking." Jensen laughed at his own Ben-Stiller-as-Zoolander imitation.
"That you are. Please stay?"
"I already asked if I could." Jensen stood and leaned over Jared, kissing the top of his head.
"I was just making sure." Jared raised his head and tipped Jensen's head down. He kissed him once on the lips, and once on each eyelid. Jared breathed in deep and long. "Do you think you could love me if I gave you a chance?"
"A chance?" Jensen smoothed Jared's hair away from his face and kissed him again. "I'll give you a million."
After all, it was only fair to return the favor.
The National Weather Service has issued a hurricane watch for Nassau, the Bahamas, and the northern aspect of the island nation of Cuba, as tropical storm Baby has now intensified to a Category 1 hurricane. Baby has clocked sustained winds of 75 miles per hour with gusts up to 92 miles per hour. The storm's track is still undefined and the cone of uncertainty includes areas as far north as southern Florida and as far south as the Cayman Islands. We will keep you updated to the status of this tropical hurricane.
Jensen recorded this data into his iPad but wasn't too worried. It was his duty to report the weather, but not cause undo concern about a weather system that was far away and whose path was so uncertain. Frankly, he'd seen this one coming and configured his own hurricane spaghetti models. Coconut Bay wasn't in the path of any of Baby's primary tracks.
He lived in Florida, and tropical storms, hurricanes, thunderstorms, lightning, hail, and tornadoes were all part of normal daily living on this peninsula in the Gulf. Coconut Bay was nestled in the south-western Gulf of Mexico corner of the state, where JAPDED reigned (Just Another Perfect Day Every Day).
"You're on in ten, Jensen," DJ shouted into the open door of Jensen's second bedroom. He promptly clicked a key on his iPad and got up. It was the Wednesday high noon news and weathercast, so it was around 12:40.
At the WBB studios, the monitors still glowed an empty bright blue and the all the computer screens projected error messages and warnings.
Because of the station's massive system crash, Jensen's home became "Weather Central" and WBB and PMC had put in an impressive amount of resources into the equipment and bandwidth needed to broadcast the weather from Jensen's home weather hub.
Jensen had stayed with Jared until Sunday, sleeping in the downstairs guest room, while Jared slept on the couch in his den. He fed and watered him until the station informed them that they were moving the whole weather operation to Jensen's house.
"I wonder how they knew that I had a weather feed or two available in my bedroom?" Jensen had asked, pointedly.
"I told Misha," Jared admitted.
"So, now he knows I'm a giant weather dork. Everybody at the station knows I’m a giant weather dork, too, right?"
"Right." Jared said. "But, they also think you're a superhero because you are single-handedly keeping WBB live and on the air."
"They do? I am?"
"You are. Remember, not all heroes wear capes. Reluctantly, I must let you go home to your Upstairs Weather Lair in order to save the world. I'll study up, so that one day, I can be one of your henchmen."
As awesome as that sounded, Jensen kind of didn't want to leave. "Are you okay, now?"
Jared kissed him softly and assured Jensen that he would be okay on his own. Jensen called Genevieve to come back, just in case.
As usual, Jensen compiled, reviewed and checked his weather data for accuracy at least three times, before hitting the air. Using a remote camera and broadcast set-up, either DJ or Felicia would assist from his house to broadcast his weather report live from his backyard, or if the weather was uncharacteristically bad or just too dark, his second bedroom.
This was a pretty cushy set-up as far as Jensen was concerned. Now, he could stay at home instead of walking the mile and some back to the studio for his segments. Coffee on demand from his own French press was a definite plus.
Maybe it was overkill because the local WBB viewers didn't appear to notice or care that their weather didn't change much from day to day, or that their news was the mirror image of CNNs. However, Alaina had intimated, that they would notice if their weather and sports were recycled from cable news. Hence, the set-up at Jensen's house. Big Jim still talked sports, live, from the station, helped by Osric and the production assistants who scoured the local papers for sports updates, and Big Jim's own local contacts.
Jensen's backyard didn't have Jared's Gulf of Mexico as a backdrop, but his property had pineapple palms, bright pink Oleander flowers and Gumbo Limbo trees. It was pretty.
"And you're on in three, two, one," DJ pointed at Jensen.
"Happy Wednesday afternoon, Coconut Bay," Jensen chimed. The afternoon weather was clear, hot and perfect. The evening forecast was partly cloudy, warm and perfect, and the forecast for Thursday was hot, sunny and perfect.
"And there's no better place to spend a Wednesday than here at the Bay."
Jensen pointed his finger for emphasis. "Remember to stay hydrated and recycle your water bottles properly to keep the Gulf waters clear and plastic free."
Jensen stood at full height and tried out his new Number Twenty. Eyebrows high, both dimples showing and an opened-mouth smile.
DJ showed three, two, one fingers and, "We are off the air. Good job, Jensen. Nobody does weather better than you. Hey, would you mind if, you know, since we're at your house and you have a fenced-in yard, if Scout could come with me tomorrow for Bring Your Dog to Work Day?"
"Is that for real?" Jensen smoothed away the laugh lines around his mouth.
"Maybe."
Jensen cracked a grin. "Of course. Scout is always welcome here. I don't have a pool like Jared does for him to skinny-dip in, but he can romp in the backyard all day, as long as you clean up after him."
"Thanks, Jense."
"You're welcome, Deej."
Jensen wandered into his kitchen for a snack when a thought hit him. Maybe that could be a public announcement. He grabbed his notepad and wrote: A poop-free yard is a happy yard. Always clean up after your dog when he…
His cell phone rang; he read the caller ID before answering.
"Yello?" Jensen said with a smile.
"Ahoy hoy," Jared's cheery voice replied.
"You sound happy," Jensen tucked his pen and pad away.
"I am, because I'm taking you out to dinner tonight."
"You are?"
"Yes, I are." Jared paused and Jensen heard keyboard clicking. "PMC's rock-solid IT team has fixed most of the problems and it wasn't my fault at all."
Jensen sat in his recliner and put his feet up. "No?"
"Nope. The Marks and Dick did, indeed, booby trap the system, but I am smarter. I, Jensen, am king of the IT world and beyond."
"Then I bow to your superior intellect and amazing good looks."
Silence.
"Jared?"
"I'm not sure what I liked better, the compliment on my looks or the mental image I got of you bowing to my superior intellect."
"You're bad."
"And the whole world has to answer right now, come on! I'm bad, I'm bad, you know it." Jared went into a Michael Jackson riff of I'm Bad. It sounded like he was dancing, too.
"Did you call to sing to me? Wait a minute, is that even called singing?"
Jared harrumphed. "I called because I thought you'd be impressed and oh-so-very proud of me that I'm about to get your employer's system up and running."
"I am. Very proud. When?"
"Well, we finish checking the system's RAM space, startup times, runtimes, recovery systems…"
"Jared, that's not telling me anything."
"Okay, so tomorrow we do technical IT stuff, and shortly after that we'll do test uploads."
"Just tell me day-wise. I'm not literate in uploads and runtimes." Jensen put the phone on speaker and peeled his snack banana.
"Pushy, pushy." Jared chewed on something that crunched. "I'd say a week and a half, two weeks tops. So, would you like to go out with me for dinner this evening and maybe a drink after? They have a great Wednesday Night Mexican Special at Nacho Mama."
"You're on," Jensen said. "I love Nacho Mama's guacamole. Pick me up after the 6:00 Sports and Weather. I do have to be back home for the 9:00 Weather Wrap-Up, so around 9:40 but that doesn't mean I have to be…alone." Jensen tried to add a seductive quality to his banana filled words.
"Okay, you're on. Hey Jensen?"
"Yeah?" Jensen thought about getting another banana. When they were yellow with a hint of green at the tips, they were perfect. But they only lasted a day or so like that, so he wanted to eat them while they were perfect.
"Thank you for being so understanding about my, you know, stuff."
"You're what stuff?"
"You know-the how I get stuff."
"I'm not sure I know the stuff of which you speak, but you're welcome." Jensen decided on the banana and went to the kitchen to get Just Another Perfect Banana From the Fruit bowl.
"Hey, Jared?"
"Yeah?" Jared crunched again.
"For the record, I like you a lot, and I’m consenting in advance, no matter how much Sangria we drink tonight."
"Noted," Jared laughed. "The feeling's mutual."
"Would you still like me if I wasn't the weather whiz slash nerd that I am?"
"Hmm," Jared bit and chewed. "Probably not."
"Oh, good," Jensen laughed. "That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."
"Looks like we really were made for each other," Jared agreed. "I'm looking forward to having taquitos and chimichangas with you tonight. I'll pick you up a little after seven. Will that work for you?"
"Sounds good."
"See you soon."
"That you will."
Jensen realized that his job predicting and broadcasting the weather, which was his passion, his hobby and his livelihood, suddenly wasn't the most important thing in his life anymore.
Huh.
When did that happen?
"Bienvenido a Nacho Mama's. I am Señorita RayShauNa and I'll be serving you esta noche. Can I get you something to drink while you read el menú?" She placed a large bowl of tortilla chips and three kinds of salsa on the table.
"I was going to do Sangria, but I've got to work tonight." He looked up at RayShauNa. "What do you have on tap?"
"El Sol, okay?"
"That's great." Jensen licked his lips, eyeing up the enchiladas with pinto beans and yellow rice.
"Make that two, and could you bring some of Mama's home-made guacamole, medium spicy?" Jared said, both dimples, both amazing dimples, blazing. "Por favor?"
"Sure thing, dos cervezas con guac coming up."
"So," Jensen said, dipping a complimentary Tostito into the hot salsa. "What is your favorite color, and what are your hopes and dreams?"
"Stealing my thunder, eh? I expected better from you." Jared snapped the chip out of Jensen's hand and dipped it for himself.
"That's really not the way to woo me, you know." Jensen quickly dipped another one and crunched it.
"Who says I’m trying to woo you?"
Jensen cocked his head to the left.
Jared cocked his head to the right. "Aww hell, who am I kidding? My favorite color is the green of your eyes. My hopes and dreams are both that I can get you to like me half as much as I like you."
"You like me, then?"
"I admit it. I'm almost all the way in-like with you, the whole package. Your eyes, your voice, and your great, big, nerdy weather brain." Jared snaked his hand, the one unencumbered by salsa and/or chips, under the table to rest on Jensen's thigh. He added softly, "So, so in-like with you."
"I've said it before, usually cheesy doesn't work on me, but when you do it, I buy every word you're selling." He shook his head. "Every. Time. How are you doing that?"
"I could say I placed some magic in the code I wrote for you." Jared moved his hand higher on Jensen's thigh. "I could say that I JavaScripted a spell and ran it on you. Or," He leaned over the table, closer to Jensen. "I could say," he whispered, "that I hypnotized, mesmerized," his lips were caressing Jensen's ear, "and systematically conspired to…"
"Dos cervezas aqui!" RayShauNa chirped, placing the frothy beers down. "Are you ready to orden del menú or would you like to hear about tonight's especiales?
"No, that's okay," Jensen said letting out a breath, hoping that his ears weren't as pink as they felt. "I'll have Nacho Mama's Wednesday night Enchilada Special, I mean, Especiale. And another cerveza, please."
"Okey dokey, and for you, señor?
"I'll have the Chimichanga Grande Especiale and a side order of frijoles negros y arroz with flat bread. Oh, and those cinnamon sticks with some chocolate for dipping."
"What is it with you and food dipping?" Jensen said, dipping his tortilla chip.
"Would you like to wait for dessert for the churros, or have them with the meal?" RayShauNa stood at the ready.
"Bring them all together, señorita."
"Muy bien. Be right back with cerveza refills."
"Gracias." Jared sat back, eyes sparkling.
"I didn't know you spoke Spanish," Jensen said, sipping his cerveza.
"I speak Mexican Restaurant Menu Spanish," Jared replied, as he dipped another chip.
"I don't know, the way you rolled the r's in frijoles negros sounded pretty authentic." Jensen leaned in. "I wonder what else there is to know about you."
"There's a lot you don't know about me, darlin', but if you juega tus cartas right, you may know a whole lot more about me before the night is over." Jared pretended to shuffle a deck of cards.
"I would juega tus cartas anywhere you want me to." Jensen scooped salsa and smiled.
"You're easy. That's another thing I like about you."
"It is one of my most charming qualities." Jensen placed his hand on Jared's thigh.
"I'd call for the check right now if I didn't like Nacho Mama's Chimichangas so much."
"Aww, you're such a sweet talker. I guess that's why I’m falling for you."
"You are?" Jared sat up. "You're falling?"
Jensen shrugged. "Maybe already fell. Started to fall when you sweated through my dissertation on Hurricane Harvey."
"Yeah?"
"Nobody I've ever dated has found updrafts so sexy. Nobody." Jensen chuckled. "Other people I've dated, they would put up with the weather thing, but never had any real interest. You accepted my obsession and ran with it. That's, that's very special."
"If no one else found your drive, your passion and your overwhelming interest in the forces of nature sexy, then shame on them. But I thank God for that." He took Jensen's hand off his thigh and twined their fingers together under the table. "It made it so that I'm the lucky guy taking you out for enchiladas tonight."
"So cheesy and sweet." Jensen leaned in close and kissed Jared's spicy lips. "I'm not sure how you did it, but I'm not letting you get away. Being in-like goes both ways, señor."
"That's so, so good to hear." Jared raised Jensen's knuckles to his lips and kissed them one by one.
"You know what?" Jensen's eyes were shining.
"What?"
"I can't wait to get you home-lock DJ and Scout in the backyard-and get naked with you. I've got a big bed in the master bedroom and lots of pillows. We don't have to do more than explore each other's bodies in the dark, if that's all you want right now, but I'm up for more when you're ready."
Jared stared glassy-eyed, a bead of sweat sliding down his left temple.
Jensen cleared his throat and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so bold. I hope it's okay that I said that."
Jared looked around wildly, raised his hand and shouted, "Check please!"
They didn't actually get the check just then because they were both hungry and Nacho Mama's made fabulous guacamole.
~~*~~*~~
On to Part Three
~~*~~*~~
.
Title: Marconi Plays the Mamba
Author: tcs1121
Artist: 2blueshoes
Pairing and Characters: Jensen/Jared, Felicia Day, Alaina Huffman, DJ Qualls, Chad Michael Murry, Misha Collins, Osric Chau, Katie Cassady, Genevieve Cortese,
Cameos and mentions: Jim Beaver, Sandy McCoy, Mark Pellegrino, Mark Sheppard, Richard Speight, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Brock Kelley, Alona Tal Rob Benedict, Bryan Norcross, Jim Cantore
Rating: NC-17
Genre: J2 AU, romantic comedy, some hurt/comfort
Word Count: ~34,500
Warnings: No Warnings outside of the sexual activities associated with the rating.
Disclaimer: Untrue story. Character names are being used without permission. No money changes hands.
~~*~~*~~Special Thanks to~~*~~*~~
My longtime friend and beta kee Who is so very special.
To my artist 2blueshoes who captured the essence of Jensen's smiles :-)
The art master post is HERE Please take a look and send your love. <3
To wendy Tireless moderator for the SPN J2 Big Bang year after year after year. Thank you, wendy!
~~*~~*~~
A/N 1: If you don't understand Chad, it's because he speaks in Jimmy Buffett lyrics
A/N 2: All restaurants named are real. I didn't make up any of them.
Summary:
Jensen is a local Florida weatherman who is known for his handsome face and winning smiles. Although he gave up the dream of becoming a real meteorologist, he is extremely passionate about the weather. And, eventually, Jared.
Jared is a brilliant computer programmer whose company, PMC (Padalecki, Morgan, Collins) gets contracted by Jensen's TV studio to revamp their software. Jared speaks fluent Mexican Restaurant Menu Spanish and has strong affection for weather. And, eventually, Jensen.
It's all fun and games until deadly weather threatens their town. Then, it's up to them to save Coconut Bay.
~~*~~*~~
Back to Part One
~~*~~*~~
Jensen met Jared on Saturday morning at Pita Pan right next to Wok This Way. Jared had his head buried in the menu, but something about his posture was off.
"Hey, you," Jensen said, pulling out a chair at the sidewalk bistro table.
Jared saw Jensen and shined like the sun on a Perfect Coconut Bay Saturday at Brunch. "Hey yourself."
"What’s up? Nothing good on the menu?" Jensen opened his Pita Pan menu to the Lost Coffee page.
"No, it all looks good, but I have something to tell you."
"Is it bad?" He looked up.
"I don’t know-I don’t know if I can do it."
"Do what?" Jensen attempted casual, but sounded pitiful.
Jared shrugged.
Jensen semi-stood and leaned in close to Jared whispering, "Did I do something wrong last night?"
"Sort of."
Jensen’s heart sank, and as he was deciding whether his Number Nine or Fifteen would be more reassuring, Jared continued, earnestly, "I said I wanted to get to know you. You know, get to know you better."
"I know. I know you did. I want to get to know you better, too. Is that going to be a problem?" Jensen asked. "Because I can try to fix whatever I did bad." He resisted the urge to finger comb his hair and check his breath.
"No. Shit, you don’t understand." Jared blinked, obviously looking for the right words. "I want to be a gentleman and date you properly. You know, do it right like get to know your favorite colors, favorite foods, hopes and dreams."
"But?"
"But all I want to do is kiss you senseless every time I see you, and it’s all I can do right now not to throw you over this little table and blanket you with me." He turned away.
Jensen sat with a thunk, his cheeks burning so hard he was afraid the menu would burst into flames. Not to mention that the sudden hard pressure on the fly of his jeans made him gasp for air.
"Uh…" Jensen choked.
"Does that make me a bad person, Jensen?" Jared sounded like he really wanted to know. "Does it?"
"I don’t, I don’t, I can't…"
"Hi boys, what can I start you with today?"
"Coffee," they said in unison.
"Black," said Jensen
"Lotsa cream and sugar," said Jared.
"And ice water," they said.
"Sure thing. I’ll be right back for your orders."
Jensen frowned. "Cream and sugar?"
"Yeah, lots. Is that going to be a problem?"
Jensen thought a moment. "My favorite color is blue, well, teal, and my favorite food is pulled pork with my mom’s tangy Carolina Barbecue Sauce-that’s the barbecue sauce made with vinegar-and my hopes and dreams depend on the weight capacity of this bistro table."
Jared laughed, relieved. "I really don’t want to come on too strong, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night."
"I had some trouble sleeping myself. I was rocking and rolling all night thinking about, you know, everything. So, I think we need to come up with a plan to move forward," he brought his voice down to a whisper, "sexually," and then added, "and still get to know one another properly because, seriously, we both totally need sleep."
"Totally," Jared said, and extended his hand.
Jensen didn’t have to pull anything out of his arsenal as his smile was 100% genuine. Not accustomed to PDAs, he shyly slid his hand into Jared’s and realized it was as easy as that. Especially after looking into Jared’s smiling eyes.
Jensen leaned in. "You know," he whispered.
"What?" Jared moved in close enough to share the same breath. "What do I know?"
"Coffee, black." The waitress slid the cup in front of Jensen. "And this one with lots of cream and sugar." She sloshed the cup in front of Jared.
"So, what can I do you for?" The smiling waitress pulled out a pen.
"So, uh," Jensen got his thoughts together. "I’ll have the Think Happy Thoughts omelet with sausage and some You’ll Get Hooked hash browns with green peppers." He handed the menu back.
"I understand the ham and cheese quiches here are so light they could fly," Jared said. "I’ll have one of those and the Pixie Dust Danish with extra pixie dust for dipping."
"Sure thing."
Jensen sideeyed Jared. "You’ve been here before."
"Of course. I wanted to make sure I took you somewhere that had a magical cuisine. Because, because, you, uh, make me kinda believe in magic." Jared blushed furiously.
"Wow, that should have made me snark something snarky at you, but instead I thought it was sweet." Jensen shook his head. "What is wrong with me?"
"It’s because we’re stone cold sober." Jared chuckled. "I think we should order some I Won’t Grow Up Mimosas after the Pixie Danish so we can say we had an excuse for all the sweet things we’re about to say to each other."
Jensen smiled in agreement. "I think I’ll need several Crocodile’s Clock screwdrivers, because I have a feeling that we’re going to be talking beautiful weather together."
Jensen and Jared weaved hand in hand towards Jensen’s house several long blocks away.
"We shouldn’t a gotten the, the, A Pirate’s Life For Me Mojitos," Jensen slurred.
"An’ we definitely lee, shouldn’t have gotten three each," Jared hiccupped, Cer'inly not 'fter the screwdrivers and the I Won't Grow Up Mimo…Mimos…Mimosh."
"Mimosh," Jensen nodded. "No Mimosh next time." Except that next time sounded like nesht ime.
"I like the sound of that," Jared said with a lopsided grin. "Next time." Which also sounded like nesht ime.
They got to Jensen’s house and plopped on the sofa.
"That brunch was great. It was really, really great." Jensen realized he was drooling and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. "I really, really thought it was great-yeah. Brunch."
"Me, too. I did, too. We should always, and then, we should-always." Jared took a deep breath and grinned. "Yeah. I like food."
"I like you," Jensen said, scooting up close. "I like you even when I’m not drunk."
Jared’s eyes went soft. "That’s the nicest things anyone has ever said to me."
"You're cute, and nice and have pretty auburn highlights." Jensen sniffed Jared's hair and began planting small, drooling kisses on his head.
"And you have such great teeth." Jared leaned his head in closer to give Jensen more drooling space.
To show Jared that he was listening, Jensen went to nip him on the shoulder, but ended up biting his own tongue.
"You are very handsome and sexy and I like you very much. We should have sex," Jared said, sincerely. "I think we should try and sober up so I can have sex with you."
Jensen stopped whatever he was doing to Jared's shoulder and faced him. "Why do we have to be sober? I can do drunk sex. I'm really good at it. Let me show you."
Jensen stood to a wobbly stand and reached for his belt buckle.
"No!" Jared grabbed Jensen's wrists. "No, you can't! Not now!"
"Oh my God, why?" Jensen's eyes watered suddenly. "What did I do? Did I do it again?"
"Do what again?"
"That bad thing I did the other night that made you, that made you…" Jensen wiped his eyes. "I don't remember!"
"No, no, no, it's nothing like that," Jared took Jensen's hands in his. "I can't have sex with you because you're drunk."
"What?"
"You can't consent if you're drunk."
"Yes, I can. I really, really can." Jensen held three fingers up in the Boy Scout salute. "I conshent."
"I'm being a gentleman! I'm trying to be a gentleman, here." Jared was getting upset. "Wait a minute. I'm drunk so even I can't consent, and, dammit, I want to fuck you so bad." He began to sob.
"Stop," Jensen lowered his voice and tried not to slur his words. "Now, Jared. I am not drunk enough to not, I mean, I can, or cannot or anything. So, let's undress, okay?"
"Coffee."
"Naked?"
"No, lotsa cream and sugar, remember?"
Jensen huffed. "Okay, genty McGentleman, I'll compromise. Let's sober up enough to have consensual quasi-drunken sex, okay?"
"Is that even a thing?" Jared asked.
"It is if I say it is because this is my house and I can or cannot anything I want, all right?
Jared shot up off the couch. "You're on!"
After the second pot of extremely strong coffee was consumed, the pair was less drunk but buzzing like a hornet's nest and quivering with all the caffeine flowing through their veins.
"I don't think I'm too drunk anymore, but I don't think I can stay still long enough to have long, drawn out sex with you, and I want our first time to be good." Jared tapped his toes, tapped his heels, flipped his hair, and reached for the sugar.
"Yup, yup, I hear you, yup." Jensen's hands shook as he rocked back and forth gulping his tepid coffee. "I want it to be good for us, too. I hear you. Yup. But can we, like, do anything, like, almost but not quite sex or something? Something sexlike? You're nice and I like you."
"Thank you," Jared grinned, shyly, "I like you, too." His knees jerked up and down, but his smile was soft and genuine.
Jensen stopped rocking long enough to say, "We're a mess."
"We are."
"But you know something, Jared? In a small, very small, very tiny way, I appreciate your thoughtfulness about not coercing me into having drunken intercourse with you even though I was, and still am, fully, fully on board with that idea. It was sweet of you, though. I think."
"I'm better at everything when I'm not drunk. Except singing. I sing great when I'm drunk." Jared's jittery muscle movements had calmed. "Tell you what? Let's put on a Star Trek original series marathon and make out on the couch until we're both not strung out and see what happens, okay?"
"Would it bother you to know that I can recite the entire dialogue from This Side of Paradise from memory?" Jensen asked. "Jill Ireland was pretty hot."
Jared stood, put his hands behind his back à la Spock and said, " I have little to say about it, captain. Except that-for the first time in my life-I was happy."
Jensen was awestruck. "You know, I could probably love you if you gave me a chance." Awestruck and still a little drunk.
"A chance?" Jared reached for Jensen's hand to stand. "I'll give you a million."
Jared's first kiss was tentative and slightly shaky. Jensen took control and pressed his tongue between Jared's parted lips and tasted the sweet coffee he'd been drinking. They dragged each other to the couch, and dropped down, Jensen straddling Jared's lap.
Jared deepened the kiss, licking Jensen's lips, teeth and sucking on his tongue. Jensen moaned softly and opened wide because Jared was an awesome kisser.
Jared manhandled Jensen onto his back and leaned into him kissing, biting and rubbing his knuckles over Jensen's left nipple. Jensen didn't realize he was into being manhandled.
Cool.
"Fuck, Jared," Jensen breathed. "Can I at least take my shirt off?"
Jared shook his head and mouthed Jensen's right nipple over the cotton cloth covering it.
"God, Jay. You are so much more than pretty auburn highlights."
Jared snickered and whispered, "You ain't seen nothin' yet," before lowering his head to Jensen's fly. "And neither have I, but I'm sobering up nicely so I might be about to."
"Yeah, yeah, go for it. I'm sober. So very sober enough."
Jensen reached for his zipper pull, Jared licked his lips, and a little, tinny version of Margaritaville, started playing from Jared's back pocket.
"No, Chad, not now," Jared rejected the call and began unbuttoning Jensen's pants.
Jensen got his jeans down to his knees and Jared was tugging on the waistband of Jensen's briefs when Margaritaville started up again, and again, and, yet again.
"Shit, shit, shit." Jared squeezed his eyes shut.
"No, no, no," Jensen chanted.
Jared opened his phone and Jensen cried a little inside.
"What Chad, what?" Jared yelled.
Jared suddenly stood and Jensen watched all the color leach out of Jared's face.
"What, Chad?" He listened. "What?" After several minutes, he swallowed and blinked. "Okay. Okay, I will. Okay."
Jared gently closed his phone.
"What's wrong?"
Jared stated simply, "The system's freezing, automatically rebooting, and displaying the blue screen of death over and over, and they can't get it to reload. This is not good."
"No?"
"I have to go." Jared turned away, then said, "It's a good thing we had so much coffee. I may be up for the next forty-eight hours."
"I'll drive you. I'm not drunk anymore." Jensen reached for his keys.
"No, I'll walk. I'm going to the station, not my house. I parked my car there and walked to brunch. The walk back will let me think things through. I'm," Jared cleared his throat. "I'm really sorry about this. I hope you'll let me make it up to you."
Jared smiled weakly, but it was obvious that Jared had already checked out, and his brain was now working on the problem.
"No worries." Jensen shot his Number Four at him, since it was the only one he could think of at the moment.
Jensen sighed and Jared left.
Jensen texted, called and tried not to appear desperate when he showed up at the IT Bullpen a week later. Jared had been on radio silence since whatever went down, went down.
Unfortunately, the signs stuck to the IT cubicle weren't reassuring:
~~*~~*~~
I'd Turn Back If I Were You.
Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here
I don't know where I'ma gonna go when the volcano blow.
~~*~~*~~
Jensen fully understood this message and turned to leave, moving out of the way when Osric exited the doorway. He was uncharacteristically quiescent.
"Hey, Osric. What's up?"
"Hi, Weatherman. Jared's not here."
Osric's eyes were tired and there was a slump to his step.
"What happened? Where's Jared? Are you okay?"
"Massive system failure. Not getting any better. Jared's working offsite. I'm not okay. He's not okay. Nobody's okay."
"If the system's down, how have we been getting our news streams? Alona and Rob have stayed on the air all week." Jensen followed Osric.
"Internet and cable TV. Chad and Katie take turns compiling the local and national news for your broadcast team. Big Jim gets his own sports updates from somewhere." He bit his lip, looking like he was keeping it from quivering. "I'm mortified. We're better than this. We are rock solid IT, dammit." He frantically smoothed the logo on his shirt.
"How did it happen?" Jensen held the exit door open.
"We don't know. Could be the ancient servers, the primordial routers, antiquated hardware or hidden trip wires in the code."
"Trip wires?"
"Don't ask."
"Do you think," Jensen cleared his throat, "do you think Jared would mind if I dropped by his house? Where is his house?"
Osric shot a sad look Jensen's way. "Jared's in the zone. He won't be resurfacing for a while. Genevieve will make sure he's fed and hydrated, but I suggest you stay away until his brain is back online and he reemerges to the land of the living."
Jensen dropped his head.
"Hey, weatherman, it's nothing personal," he said encouragingly. "He likes you."
"He does?" And yes, Katie was right. They were twelve. "I mean, that's good. I'm glad. And I'm glad he's relatively okay."
"I'll let him know you came by, the next time he speaks." Osric unlocked his 24-speed hybrid mountain/street bike, donned his Iron Man bike helmet, saluted Jensen and pedaled away.
"Even though Coconut Bay has the best weather around, we must never, ever take our sunshine for granted, because one day, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday, our sun could be plucked from our lives, leaving us all in a cold, damp shadow." Jensen sucked in a deep breath. "Remember, take your vitamins daily with the right doses of B6 and B12 for a healthy immune system." Jensen had the peace of mind to dust off his Number Seventeen. A soft, gentle smile looking dead into the camera lens.
"…and we're out. Holy Christ, Jensen, who kicked your puppy? You didn't Just Another Perfect anything. How come?"
"Shove it, Red. I’m not in the mood."
"Obviously." Felicia pulled her headphones to circle her neck and made a note on the clipboard.
"Oh, here." She handed him a small envelope.
"What is this?"
"One of the IT guys gave it to me to give to you."
Jensen tore the paper open to find an address scrawled in black ink.
"Felicia?"
"Hmm?"
"Have DJ rerun this noon segment for the evening forecasts. The weather won't change between then and now."
Jensen drove up to a beautiful, waterfront Florida cracker style home. It was a sprawling, white, two-story house with a covered wrap-around porch, white metal roof and clerestory walls with high windows to let in air and sunlight. An infinity pool facing the water gave the impression that the swimming pool was an extension of the blue-green Gulf of Mexico.
A beat-up green Jeep Wrangler sat in the driveway with a matte black Tesla Model 3 parked behind.
He used the brass pineapple door knocker for three solid thumps, and within a minute, the big oaken door swung wide.
Gone was Kate Beckensale's shiny Underworld garb. Today, Genevieve bore a strange resemblance Morticia Addams. Not only the long, octopus-like fitted black gown, but her long, black hair, parted in the middle, pale face and deep red lips.
"I'm glad you're here." She didn't look glad.
"Thanks, I think."
"In there." She pointed a long, black-nailed finger down the hallway. Her voice was low and rough, either from disuse, or fatigue caused by cutting rose heads off of thorn bushes.
She glided past Jensen, snagged her little black purse with the PMC logo pinned to it, and floated out the door. The hiss of a Tesla followed by music blasting "…Marconi plays the mamba, listen to the radio! Don't you remember…"
Jensen made sure the door was locked and looked around. There was a wide central hallway ending at the kitchen, with rooms to either side. There was a staircase to the left and a sunroom to the right. He took a tentative step and called softly, "Jared? You home?"
A moan came from the second room on the right.
The room looked to be Jared's den. The wide picture windows with transom windows above, gave a beautiful view of the Gulf of Mexico. Jared's reading glasses lay face down on the brilliant white custom-built computer desk. On that desk were two desktop computers, two laptops, and several external hard drives. Three monitors surrounded Jared-who was beating his head on the surface in front of him.
Jensen rushed over, "Jared, hey, Jay, no, c'mon, stop, it's okay." He pulled Jared's beanie off and placed it where it would cushion Jared's banging head. "Jared, listen to me. It's Jensen. Everything's going to be okay."
Jared was a mess as he clutched blindly at Jensen's printed tee shirt that read: Get Your Head Out of the Cumulus
He thought it was funny at the time. In fact, he still chuckled to himself every time he pulled it on.
Right now, though, things weren't funny. "What is it, Jay? What's wrong? Please don't hurt yourself."
"Broken." Jared whispered. "It's all broken."
"What? Where?" Jensen ran his hands over Jared's head and shoulders. "Where is it broken?"
Jared stopped moaning and finally looked up. "Jensen?"
"Yes. Jensen. What's broken?" Jensen asked, anxiously. "Where are you hurt?"
"I'm-I'm not, the program is. The program we built for your studio is not rocking and or rolling like it's supposed to." He tried banging his head against his beanie, but apparently found it unsatisfying because he started pulling his hair.
"Stop, Jared. Don't hurt yourself, nothing is worth that." Jensen took both Jared's hands in his and looked into his eyes. "Nothing is worth that. Besides, you can fix it. I know you can."
Jared pulled his hands out of Jensen's grasp. "What is wrong with me? Why can't I figure it out?" He took the heel of his hand and smacked his forehead twice.
"Come on Jared, don't do this. Please." He physically held Jared back from pummeling himself. "Nobody rocks code like you guys do. You're the best at this. Don't you remember? You PMC guys built this city on rocking and rolling code. Remember? You built this city and you can fix it."
Why did Genevieve have to play that song?
"You don't know that." Jared sagged where he sat. The fight was out of him. "You don't. All I know is that I can't fail at this, I can't."
He finally looked up with reddened eyes. "Jensen, this is what we do, this is what I do for a living. With my life. What I do so well that I can live in a house by the water. What I do so well that all Jeff has to do is mention the PMC record for successful builds, and contracts flow our way. I cannot let this business down. I cannot let my team down. I cannot let you and your station down."
"That's why you and your team will figure it out. Pounding your head into mush will not accomplish anything. And it sure as hell won't repair the system or help promote PMCs reputation." Jensen stoked Jared's hair as he spoke.
Jared squeezed his eyes shut in abject despair.
A bolt of pure emotion shot through Jensen's psyche. He had never felt so scared, so helpless and so determined to help someone in his life. This was important. Jared was important. Jensen shook Jared's shoulders forcefully. "Look at me, Jay."
Jared shook his head.
"I. Said. Look. At. Me."
That got through because Jared breathed twice through his nose and looked up.
"Jared," Jensen kept his voice low and steady. "You are the master at figuring out puzzles and putting them to code. You, are the master at unwinding glitches, anomalies and hiccups and finding brilliant, ingenious, solutions for them. You, Jared Padalecki, have a brain big enough, wise enough, and smart enough to diagnose, treat, and cure any curses, hexes, spells or whammies that Big Mark or Little Mark or that Dick may have used to booby trap the system. You got this."
Jared sniffed. Jensen, in all his nerdy geekiness, continued the only way he knew how.
"Jared, even though your system may be barely alive, you can rebuild it. I know you can. You can rebuild it because you have the technology, you have the capability, and because you are better, stronger and faster than you were before."
Jared's eyebrows pulled together in thought. He mouthed the words, better, stronger and faster to himself until his eyes gleamed.
"I get it. It's because I'm bionic, right? I'm the bionic computer programmer?" He sat straight. "I'm the Six Million Dollar bionic programmer, right?"
"Maybe?" Jensen answered. "I mean, yes. Yes, you can do anything because, because…"
"Can I have a telescopic eye, too? I love that Steve Austin had cross hairs when he zeroed in on something."
"Yes," Jensen said with a sigh. "You can have a telescopic eye, even one that makes a sound when it's targeting something, and you can run sixty miles an hour."
"And throw something into space?"
"But only with your right arm," Jensen instructed.
"Okay. Good thing I'm right-handed, then." Jared heaved in a breath and let it out.
He looked at Jensen, really looked at him. A fond smile crossed his lips.
Jensen eyed Jared to assess his status and found that he was breathing normally, the sweating had stopped, and, more importantly, he' d stopped banging his head.
Jared's arms came around Jensen in a tender embrace. "Thank you. Thank you for being here. Thank you for talking to me. Thank you for your faith in me. Thank you for your geek references. Thank you for everything."
"Oh Jared. You don't have to thank me." Jensen leaned into Jared and held tight. "Are you going to be okay? I really want you to be okay."
"As long as you're around to keep me on track with old TV intros, I should be just fine."
"That can be arranged. Listen," Jensen recited, "There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. And then something about the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. Does it work if I only know some of the intro? I think I know all of this one, Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings…"
Jared covered Jensen's lips with his, drowning his words and using his tongue to lick them out of his mouth. Jared whispered into Jensen's ear, "You can shut up now."
Jensen thought he should be angry, or embarrassed, but all he felt was good. He felt good because Jared was finally resurfacing. "Okay," Jensen said between kisses. "Shutting up, now."
Jared calmed and he took back his tongue. He took in a long, cleansing breath and let it out.
"You are good for me," he said. "For so many reasons."
Then he looked Jensen up and down several times and snickered. Then he grabbed Jensen and hugged him close laughing out loud. "Jensen, Jensen, Jensen, you are too much."
Jensen's head was spinning. He didn't know to be worried or relieved, but he decided to go along with it. "Jared, Jared, Jared," he repeated back while bear-hugging him. "You are too much, too."
Jared's laughter was contagious and a little hysterical, but it was music to Jensen's ears. As Jared's laughter wound down, Jensen stroked his sweaty hair and kissed his head. "Are you okay, now?"
"I guess once I get my head out of the cumulus I will be. I'm not great," Jared breathed deep again, "but I am better because you're here. I'll tell you all about it later, but first I need food and, and, you."
"And me?"
"You," he kissed Jensen softly. "I now know we are MFEO because after your geek TV references-your geek weather tee shirt was the last straw I needed to snap me out of a deep zone melt down."
"I didn't understand a word you said." Jensen replied. "But I know what my nose is telling me, and it's that you need a shower before you do anything else."
Jared raised his eyebrows.
"No, Jared. You really need a shower." He steered Jared toward the door. "Where's your bathroom?"
"Pick one. I have five."
"You pick one. I'll try to find something edible in the kitchen." He shoved him out the door. "Nice digs, by the way."
"Thanks." Jared sniffed his armpits and paled. "Holy shit. Something died under my arms."
"I know. After I find something for us to eat, I'll locate your washing machine."
"My hero."
"Hey, Jay? MFEO?"
"Made for each other."
"I know, and boy, that really is nerdy of us. Now go," Jensen pointed to the hall. "Wash."
"Okay, okay. But I think you should know that I like it when you're bossy."
"Now."
Jared exaggerated a shiver.
Jensen laughed and headed for the kitchen.
Jared's called from the hall, "Bread's in the bread drawer, there's another freezer in the pantry if you can't find anything you like, and help yourself to anything you can find. I have no idea what's in there." Jared climbed up three steps. "Thanks for coming."
"You're welcome. I should probably tell you that I can't cook," Jensen shouted out the doorway. "Like, at all."
Jared answered, "I don’t care."
"You say that now."
Fortunately, macaroni and cheese was next to impossible to mess up. Toast, coffee, bacon and bag salad with poppyseed dressing rounded up the meal. With pop-tarts for dessert.
Jared chose to crumble his bacon into his mac and cheese. It looked good, but Jensen felt it diminished the mac and cheese's raison d'être.
"Can you tell me what's going on? What happened to the program?" Jensen decided against toasting the strawberry pop-tart before eating it.
"You get your own weather streams and put your own forecasts together, so this won't affect you as much as the news, business, and sports guys." Jared crumbled some more bacon into his salad.
"What won't?" He should have toasted the pop-tart. It tasted too doughy or something.
Jared took in a breath. "We were installing the preliminary updates to the new operating system we created, when the system shut down without warning and wouldn't reboot. At first, I thought it was an error in the code that caused the blue screen, and not the hardware since the hardware, old as it was, was working as the updates were being uploaded. But then all the processors and all the hard drives horked up, almost like there was a ghost in the machine." He shook his head sadly.
"Do you know how to fix it?"
"No." Jared stood and stretched. "No, I don't, and I should. Most of the new program is based on my own precise coding not willy-nilly coding that takes days to debug. I've been over it and over it, and can't find any major bugs or errors. I mean, there are always bugs in a new program, but not one that causes this." Jared made jazz hands.
"Can you start over?"
"If we can't find and correct the problem, we're going to have to, but we're already behind schedule and are going over budget soon. But the hardest thing to come to terms with, the hardest thing, is that I can't figure it out. I mean, I'm a master trendsetter, not a n00b who puts out kludge software!"
"I know, I know." Jensen didn't know. "I'll help you anyway I can. I get all the internet and cable news streams and sport's news from my system at home along with my weather information, and I can help Katy compile the stuff the local viewers are most interested in until your non-kludge coding is up and running."
Jensen really didn't know.
"You're so kind, but Katie and Chad are all over it while Osric and Big Jim are handling the sports info. Misha's working furiously on rewriting strings of my code, even though he swears he can't find anything wrong with it. Everybody's working hard trying to fix my mistakes. Even you. Here you are baby-sitting me and making me lunch? Dinner? Breakfast?"
"I don't mind. None of us minds. We're-I -I am here for you." Jensen refilled their coffee cups from the carafe. "We're having a late lunch, by the way."
"Thank you." Jared really had spectacular dimples. "Who's doing your weather spot?"
"I am." Jensen decided to throw the strawberry one away and toast the blueberry one with frosting and sprinkles.
"But you're here."
"Ah, the magic of television and the good fortune of unvarying weather. I asked Felicia to have DJ rerun the evening and nighttime forecasts from this afternoon."
Jensen sipped his coffee, waiting for the toaster to pop.
"You're the best," Jared praised.
"Aw shucks. Hey, if you don't mind," Jensen kept his voice evenly modulated. "I'd like to stick around here for a day or two, keeping the geek references coming, making eggs and toast-a specialty of mine-keeping you company if you need a friendly face to yell at. Although, you are not allowed to damage the face."
Jared silently stared as Jensen rambled nervously on. "I have lots of vacation time and, if needed, Brock can do the weather. He loves being on during the week."
"Thank you. That would be awesome."
"Oh, good." Jensen let out a relieved breath. "I'm not used to inviting myself to stay at people's houses and wasn't sure I was doing it right."
"You're doing it right. You're doing everything right. But I must warn you that I'll be buried in code, and won't be much fun." Jared looked sad. "I might not even know you're here."
"That's okay. I'll know I'm here."
"Are you for real?"
"I don't know," Jensen looked up through his lashes. "I might be bionic, too. I mean, look at this." Jensen unleashed his trademark Number One.
"Blue Steel," Jared whispered in mock awe. Channeling his inner Will Ferrell, he said, "Dear God. It's beautiful."
"Well, I am really, really, really ridiculously good-looking." Jensen laughed at his own Ben-Stiller-as-Zoolander imitation.
"That you are. Please stay?"
"I already asked if I could." Jensen stood and leaned over Jared, kissing the top of his head.
"I was just making sure." Jared raised his head and tipped Jensen's head down. He kissed him once on the lips, and once on each eyelid. Jared breathed in deep and long. "Do you think you could love me if I gave you a chance?"
"A chance?" Jensen smoothed Jared's hair away from his face and kissed him again. "I'll give you a million."
After all, it was only fair to return the favor.
The National Weather Service has issued a hurricane watch for Nassau, the Bahamas, and the northern aspect of the island nation of Cuba, as tropical storm Baby has now intensified to a Category 1 hurricane. Baby has clocked sustained winds of 75 miles per hour with gusts up to 92 miles per hour. The storm's track is still undefined and the cone of uncertainty includes areas as far north as southern Florida and as far south as the Cayman Islands. We will keep you updated to the status of this tropical hurricane.
Jensen recorded this data into his iPad but wasn't too worried. It was his duty to report the weather, but not cause undo concern about a weather system that was far away and whose path was so uncertain. Frankly, he'd seen this one coming and configured his own hurricane spaghetti models. Coconut Bay wasn't in the path of any of Baby's primary tracks.
He lived in Florida, and tropical storms, hurricanes, thunderstorms, lightning, hail, and tornadoes were all part of normal daily living on this peninsula in the Gulf. Coconut Bay was nestled in the south-western Gulf of Mexico corner of the state, where JAPDED reigned (Just Another Perfect Day Every Day).
"You're on in ten, Jensen," DJ shouted into the open door of Jensen's second bedroom. He promptly clicked a key on his iPad and got up. It was the Wednesday high noon news and weathercast, so it was around 12:40.
At the WBB studios, the monitors still glowed an empty bright blue and the all the computer screens projected error messages and warnings.
Because of the station's massive system crash, Jensen's home became "Weather Central" and WBB and PMC had put in an impressive amount of resources into the equipment and bandwidth needed to broadcast the weather from Jensen's home weather hub.
Jensen had stayed with Jared until Sunday, sleeping in the downstairs guest room, while Jared slept on the couch in his den. He fed and watered him until the station informed them that they were moving the whole weather operation to Jensen's house.
"I wonder how they knew that I had a weather feed or two available in my bedroom?" Jensen had asked, pointedly.
"I told Misha," Jared admitted.
"So, now he knows I'm a giant weather dork. Everybody at the station knows I’m a giant weather dork, too, right?"
"Right." Jared said. "But, they also think you're a superhero because you are single-handedly keeping WBB live and on the air."
"They do? I am?"
"You are. Remember, not all heroes wear capes. Reluctantly, I must let you go home to your Upstairs Weather Lair in order to save the world. I'll study up, so that one day, I can be one of your henchmen."
As awesome as that sounded, Jensen kind of didn't want to leave. "Are you okay, now?"
Jared kissed him softly and assured Jensen that he would be okay on his own. Jensen called Genevieve to come back, just in case.
As usual, Jensen compiled, reviewed and checked his weather data for accuracy at least three times, before hitting the air. Using a remote camera and broadcast set-up, either DJ or Felicia would assist from his house to broadcast his weather report live from his backyard, or if the weather was uncharacteristically bad or just too dark, his second bedroom.
This was a pretty cushy set-up as far as Jensen was concerned. Now, he could stay at home instead of walking the mile and some back to the studio for his segments. Coffee on demand from his own French press was a definite plus.
Maybe it was overkill because the local WBB viewers didn't appear to notice or care that their weather didn't change much from day to day, or that their news was the mirror image of CNNs. However, Alaina had intimated, that they would notice if their weather and sports were recycled from cable news. Hence, the set-up at Jensen's house. Big Jim still talked sports, live, from the station, helped by Osric and the production assistants who scoured the local papers for sports updates, and Big Jim's own local contacts.
Jensen's backyard didn't have Jared's Gulf of Mexico as a backdrop, but his property had pineapple palms, bright pink Oleander flowers and Gumbo Limbo trees. It was pretty.
"And you're on in three, two, one," DJ pointed at Jensen.
"Happy Wednesday afternoon, Coconut Bay," Jensen chimed. The afternoon weather was clear, hot and perfect. The evening forecast was partly cloudy, warm and perfect, and the forecast for Thursday was hot, sunny and perfect.
"And there's no better place to spend a Wednesday than here at the Bay."
Jensen pointed his finger for emphasis. "Remember to stay hydrated and recycle your water bottles properly to keep the Gulf waters clear and plastic free."
Jensen stood at full height and tried out his new Number Twenty. Eyebrows high, both dimples showing and an opened-mouth smile.
DJ showed three, two, one fingers and, "We are off the air. Good job, Jensen. Nobody does weather better than you. Hey, would you mind if, you know, since we're at your house and you have a fenced-in yard, if Scout could come with me tomorrow for Bring Your Dog to Work Day?"
"Is that for real?" Jensen smoothed away the laugh lines around his mouth.
"Maybe."
Jensen cracked a grin. "Of course. Scout is always welcome here. I don't have a pool like Jared does for him to skinny-dip in, but he can romp in the backyard all day, as long as you clean up after him."
"Thanks, Jense."
"You're welcome, Deej."
Jensen wandered into his kitchen for a snack when a thought hit him. Maybe that could be a public announcement. He grabbed his notepad and wrote: A poop-free yard is a happy yard. Always clean up after your dog when he…
His cell phone rang; he read the caller ID before answering.
"Yello?" Jensen said with a smile.
"Ahoy hoy," Jared's cheery voice replied.
"You sound happy," Jensen tucked his pen and pad away.
"I am, because I'm taking you out to dinner tonight."
"You are?"
"Yes, I are." Jared paused and Jensen heard keyboard clicking. "PMC's rock-solid IT team has fixed most of the problems and it wasn't my fault at all."
Jensen sat in his recliner and put his feet up. "No?"
"Nope. The Marks and Dick did, indeed, booby trap the system, but I am smarter. I, Jensen, am king of the IT world and beyond."
"Then I bow to your superior intellect and amazing good looks."
Silence.
"Jared?"
"I'm not sure what I liked better, the compliment on my looks or the mental image I got of you bowing to my superior intellect."
"You're bad."
"And the whole world has to answer right now, come on! I'm bad, I'm bad, you know it." Jared went into a Michael Jackson riff of I'm Bad. It sounded like he was dancing, too.
"Did you call to sing to me? Wait a minute, is that even called singing?"
Jared harrumphed. "I called because I thought you'd be impressed and oh-so-very proud of me that I'm about to get your employer's system up and running."
"I am. Very proud. When?"
"Well, we finish checking the system's RAM space, startup times, runtimes, recovery systems…"
"Jared, that's not telling me anything."
"Okay, so tomorrow we do technical IT stuff, and shortly after that we'll do test uploads."
"Just tell me day-wise. I'm not literate in uploads and runtimes." Jensen put the phone on speaker and peeled his snack banana.
"Pushy, pushy." Jared chewed on something that crunched. "I'd say a week and a half, two weeks tops. So, would you like to go out with me for dinner this evening and maybe a drink after? They have a great Wednesday Night Mexican Special at Nacho Mama."
"You're on," Jensen said. "I love Nacho Mama's guacamole. Pick me up after the 6:00 Sports and Weather. I do have to be back home for the 9:00 Weather Wrap-Up, so around 9:40 but that doesn't mean I have to be…alone." Jensen tried to add a seductive quality to his banana filled words.
"Okay, you're on. Hey Jensen?"
"Yeah?" Jensen thought about getting another banana. When they were yellow with a hint of green at the tips, they were perfect. But they only lasted a day or so like that, so he wanted to eat them while they were perfect.
"Thank you for being so understanding about my, you know, stuff."
"You're what stuff?"
"You know-the how I get stuff."
"I'm not sure I know the stuff of which you speak, but you're welcome." Jensen decided on the banana and went to the kitchen to get Just Another Perfect Banana From the Fruit bowl.
"Hey, Jared?"
"Yeah?" Jared crunched again.
"For the record, I like you a lot, and I’m consenting in advance, no matter how much Sangria we drink tonight."
"Noted," Jared laughed. "The feeling's mutual."
"Would you still like me if I wasn't the weather whiz slash nerd that I am?"
"Hmm," Jared bit and chewed. "Probably not."
"Oh, good," Jensen laughed. "That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."
"Looks like we really were made for each other," Jared agreed. "I'm looking forward to having taquitos and chimichangas with you tonight. I'll pick you up a little after seven. Will that work for you?"
"Sounds good."
"See you soon."
"That you will."
Jensen realized that his job predicting and broadcasting the weather, which was his passion, his hobby and his livelihood, suddenly wasn't the most important thing in his life anymore.
Huh.
When did that happen?
"Bienvenido a Nacho Mama's. I am Señorita RayShauNa and I'll be serving you esta noche. Can I get you something to drink while you read el menú?" She placed a large bowl of tortilla chips and three kinds of salsa on the table.
"I was going to do Sangria, but I've got to work tonight." He looked up at RayShauNa. "What do you have on tap?"
"El Sol, okay?"
"That's great." Jensen licked his lips, eyeing up the enchiladas with pinto beans and yellow rice.
"Make that two, and could you bring some of Mama's home-made guacamole, medium spicy?" Jared said, both dimples, both amazing dimples, blazing. "Por favor?"
"Sure thing, dos cervezas con guac coming up."
"So," Jensen said, dipping a complimentary Tostito into the hot salsa. "What is your favorite color, and what are your hopes and dreams?"
"Stealing my thunder, eh? I expected better from you." Jared snapped the chip out of Jensen's hand and dipped it for himself.
"That's really not the way to woo me, you know." Jensen quickly dipped another one and crunched it.
"Who says I’m trying to woo you?"
Jensen cocked his head to the left.
Jared cocked his head to the right. "Aww hell, who am I kidding? My favorite color is the green of your eyes. My hopes and dreams are both that I can get you to like me half as much as I like you."
"You like me, then?"
"I admit it. I'm almost all the way in-like with you, the whole package. Your eyes, your voice, and your great, big, nerdy weather brain." Jared snaked his hand, the one unencumbered by salsa and/or chips, under the table to rest on Jensen's thigh. He added softly, "So, so in-like with you."
"I've said it before, usually cheesy doesn't work on me, but when you do it, I buy every word you're selling." He shook his head. "Every. Time. How are you doing that?"
"I could say I placed some magic in the code I wrote for you." Jared moved his hand higher on Jensen's thigh. "I could say that I JavaScripted a spell and ran it on you. Or," He leaned over the table, closer to Jensen. "I could say," he whispered, "that I hypnotized, mesmerized," his lips were caressing Jensen's ear, "and systematically conspired to…"
"Dos cervezas aqui!" RayShauNa chirped, placing the frothy beers down. "Are you ready to orden del menú or would you like to hear about tonight's especiales?
"No, that's okay," Jensen said letting out a breath, hoping that his ears weren't as pink as they felt. "I'll have Nacho Mama's Wednesday night Enchilada Special, I mean, Especiale. And another cerveza, please."
"Okey dokey, and for you, señor?
"I'll have the Chimichanga Grande Especiale and a side order of frijoles negros y arroz with flat bread. Oh, and those cinnamon sticks with some chocolate for dipping."
"What is it with you and food dipping?" Jensen said, dipping his tortilla chip.
"Would you like to wait for dessert for the churros, or have them with the meal?" RayShauNa stood at the ready.
"Bring them all together, señorita."
"Muy bien. Be right back with cerveza refills."
"Gracias." Jared sat back, eyes sparkling.
"I didn't know you spoke Spanish," Jensen said, sipping his cerveza.
"I speak Mexican Restaurant Menu Spanish," Jared replied, as he dipped another chip.
"I don't know, the way you rolled the r's in frijoles negros sounded pretty authentic." Jensen leaned in. "I wonder what else there is to know about you."
"There's a lot you don't know about me, darlin', but if you juega tus cartas right, you may know a whole lot more about me before the night is over." Jared pretended to shuffle a deck of cards.
"I would juega tus cartas anywhere you want me to." Jensen scooped salsa and smiled.
"You're easy. That's another thing I like about you."
"It is one of my most charming qualities." Jensen placed his hand on Jared's thigh.
"I'd call for the check right now if I didn't like Nacho Mama's Chimichangas so much."
"Aww, you're such a sweet talker. I guess that's why I’m falling for you."
"You are?" Jared sat up. "You're falling?"
Jensen shrugged. "Maybe already fell. Started to fall when you sweated through my dissertation on Hurricane Harvey."
"Yeah?"
"Nobody I've ever dated has found updrafts so sexy. Nobody." Jensen chuckled. "Other people I've dated, they would put up with the weather thing, but never had any real interest. You accepted my obsession and ran with it. That's, that's very special."
"If no one else found your drive, your passion and your overwhelming interest in the forces of nature sexy, then shame on them. But I thank God for that." He took Jensen's hand off his thigh and twined their fingers together under the table. "It made it so that I'm the lucky guy taking you out for enchiladas tonight."
"So cheesy and sweet." Jensen leaned in close and kissed Jared's spicy lips. "I'm not sure how you did it, but I'm not letting you get away. Being in-like goes both ways, señor."
"That's so, so good to hear." Jared raised Jensen's knuckles to his lips and kissed them one by one.
"You know what?" Jensen's eyes were shining.
"What?"
"I can't wait to get you home-lock DJ and Scout in the backyard-and get naked with you. I've got a big bed in the master bedroom and lots of pillows. We don't have to do more than explore each other's bodies in the dark, if that's all you want right now, but I'm up for more when you're ready."
Jared stared glassy-eyed, a bead of sweat sliding down his left temple.
Jensen cleared his throat and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so bold. I hope it's okay that I said that."
Jared looked around wildly, raised his hand and shouted, "Check please!"
They didn't actually get the check just then because they were both hungry and Nacho Mama's made fabulous guacamole.
~~*~~*~~
On to Part Three
~~*~~*~~