Memoirs of a Texan Abroad (6/14)

[texankate]

Title:  How Jensen Ackles Hated Mr. Right, Shagged Mr. Wrong, and Finally Got a Clue
Author:  texankate 
Pairings/Characters:  J-squared, Jensen/ Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Jared/Sandy, Chris/Steve, Usual Suspects  OFCs, OMCs.  S1 'The Tudors', S1 'Primeval'.
Rating:  Up to NC17 in places

Disclaimer: If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream,. In other words: complete and utter fiction. I own nothing but my twisted and sordid little brain. I even had to borrow my disclaimer.

Summary:  When Jensen left everything behind for his big shot overseas assignment, he only wanted a life of adventure.  Will he choose passion with a sexy foreigner?  Or will he realize that true love was in his back yard the whole time?

Chapter 6
Jensen set his watch to wake him at eight o'clock the next morning. No amount of prodding would stir Johnny, so he jumped into the shower without any argument. He was dressed and ready to go down to breakfast when Johnny finally opened one eye.

"Morning," he mumbled, looking charmingly disheveled.

"Good morning. Hurry up and shower; I don't want to miss breakfast," Jensen said, dragging the covers back. Johnny grabbed them from his hand and pulled them up to his chest.

"I'm shattered, love," he said. "Why don't you go down to breakfast, and I'll catch up to you later. We're on for lunch at some little place in the Latin Quarter that Gina's been raving over. Maybe we can meet there?" Jensen tried to bite back the disappointment.

"I really didn't think I'd come all the way to Paris to just run into you at lunch," he said.

"C'mon, Jen. You know I don't go in for the sightseeing thing. Or the shopping thing," he whined.

"Then why the hell did you want to come to Paris?" Jensen snapped.

"Good food, great clubs, and lots of wine," he said. "I thought those at least would put you in the mood for more than bloody tourism."

"I'm so sorry that I'm not the worldly dilettante that you and your friends are," Jensen said, rage creeping into his voice.

"But you could be so much more than another American who walks around with a guidebook, ticking off the monuments of old Europe as soon as he's walked by them, like it's a bloody scavenger hunt," Johnny said, nearly spitting in disdain.

"You know what? I like my guidebook. I like old churches and museums," Jensen said. "And if you don't get that, maybe this is a bad idea." He pulled his bag out from under the bed and set it on the table. He threw the wardrobe doors open, and pulled out his clothes.

"Wait, Jen. What are you doing?" Johnny said, grabbing at his arm. Jensen wrenched away, and began stuffing his clothes into the bag.

"I'm getting out of here," he said. "I'm taking my guidebook, and my American sensibilities, and I'm getting the hell out of here." He felt his eyes well up with tears.

"Don't do this. You're making a mistake," Johnny said.

"The mistake was equating sex with something more," Jensen said. He zipped the bag closed, and grabbed both it and his backpack before walking out the door. Johnny staggered out of bed, holding the sheet around his waist. He stopped, just outside the door. Jensen punched the button on the elevator, praying he wouldn't come any closer.

"God, Jen. Stop being such a bitch and come back here. We can work this out," he said. Just at that moment, the door next to theirs opened, and the two men Jensen had seen the day before stepped out into the hall. They took one look at Johnny's attire, and the tears running down Jensen's cheeks, and the tall, dark-haired man moved in between them. The bald man walked over and put an arm around Jensen's shoulders while they waited for the elevator. The door opened, and he herded Jensen inside, holding the door for his friend.

"Are you all right?" the friend asked. He had a kind smile.

"Yes, thanks," Jensen said, wiping away the tears.

"Let's get you downstairs, and get some coffee into you," said the one with an arm around Jensen.

"No, really, thanks. You've done enough. And," Jensen added, "to be honest, I really don't want to run into him or his friends again."

"You think they're up this early?" the first one asked. "From what I saw last night, it seems they have a different idea of what a trip to Paris entails than we do." From his hand gesture, Jensen could see that he was included in that 'we'.

"He's not really big on seeing the sights," Jensen said, and took a deep breath. "By the way, I'm Jensen."

"Hello Jensen, I'm Mike, and this is my husband, Tom," the bald man said. "You're American, but your friend is…?"

"An asshole." They both laughed, and Jensen managed a little smile. "Oh, you mean his nationality. He's Irish. His three friends are English."

"How did you meet?" Mike asked.

"Mike, I'm sure he'd rather we didn't pry," Tom said. He patted Jensen's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Mike apologized. "I do tend to say more than I should; it's a bad habit. It's amazing that he even puts up with me." He laid a loving hand on Tom's arm, and he smiled indulgently.

They went all the way down to the basement, where the restaurant was located. Tom stowed Jensen's luggage in the corner and ordered a carafe of café au lait while Mike and Jensen visited the buffet. Mike heaped mini chocolate croissants on Jensen's plate, saying that heartache was best mended with chocolate and wine. Since it was too early for wine, he said, it was up to the chocolate to soothe the soul.

Over breakfast, they swapped stories. Tom and Mike were in Paris celebrating their fifth anniversary. They lived in Atlanta, where Tom worked as an architect, and Mike as an accountant. They had met in college, and had been together ever since. They were obviously head over heels for one another, still. Jensen could see it in every glance and every movement, and hear it in the tone of their voices.

He found himself pouring out his life story, quite unexpectedly. He told them about working in the UK, even if it was only for six months, and about meeting Johnny. Mike clucked sympathetically when he told them that they worked together.

"It's hard to make that sort of thing work," he said. "Not that Tom and I work together, but I've seen a dozen relationships start and fizzle at the office."

"At least I'm only there for a couple more months," Jensen said, tearing into a croissant. "And we don't actually work on the same project. I just worry that he'll say something, you know?"

"I'm sure he won't want to say anything that will reflect poorly on either of you. It would be a shame if it had to get out that he has a nasty habit of running around hotels wearing nothing but a sheet," Mike said, biting back a laugh.

"More importantly than that, what are you going to do now?" Tom asked. "Are you going back to England, or will you stick around and finish seeing Paris?"

"I don't know that you can 'finish seeing Paris', but I think I'd like to try," Jensen said. "I just need to sort out a place to stay. It shouldn't be too hard, should it?"

"It might be," Tom admitted. "Stay here a minute." He ran up the stairs to the lobby.

"Aside from finding new lodgings, what do you have planned for the day," Mike asked.

"Well, I guess I'd like to maybe catch a bus tour, and see some sights. I do need to do some shopping, too. I have family and friends to buy for," Jensen said.

"Good. Tom and I were going to do one of those tours tomorrow, but we can switch around until today," she said.

"I can't let you change up your plans just for me," Jensen protested.

"Dude," Mike said. "We're hardly honeymooners. And we're here for another week after this."

Tom trotted down the stairs at that moment, with a grin on his handsome face. He sat down beside Mike, and triumphantly slid a key card over to Jensen.

"It's all sorted. They had an extra single here, so you don't have to waste a day looking for a new hotel," he said.

"But Johnny…"

"I made sure that you weren't on the same floor as Johnny or his friends. And considering that they'll be sleeping late and coming in late, you'll most likely never see them," he said.

"Thank you, so much," Jensen said. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes again.

"Now, there, don't cry," Mike said. "Why don't you and I go get your things settled while Tom finishes his breakfast? Then we can get out of here. How does that sound?" Jensen nodded. They grabbed his bags and went up to the room.

The view was better, and because he was higher up the traffic wasn't nearly as loud. He made quick work of unpacking, and then they were off. Tom had a guidebook similar to Jensen's, and he said the closest place to catch the tour bus was at the Eiffel Tower. They took the Metro as close as possible, and found the bus tours on the riverside of the tower.

Their route took them past Invalides, and across the river. They drove through the fashionable neighborhoods, and into the older sector. When they crossed over onto the Isle du France, the bus stopped outside of Notre Dame.

They got off the bus, and queued up at the end of the line. Mike and Jensen took pictures of the plaza, while Tom rhapsodized over the architecture. Jensen had studied enough to understand most of what he was saying, which was apparently more than Mike did.

After they toured the cathedral, they walked across the street to a little café. Even after the large breakfast they'd had, they were more than ready for lunch. Tom kept looking back over at the cathedral, while Mike and Jensen talked about the shopping in Paris.

They paid for lunch, and walked around the shops in the area while waiting for the bus. Jensen ended up with gifts for Mac, his mom and his grandmother, as well as his niece and nephew. Mike was looking for something for Tom's mother, but they didn't find anything nice enough for a mother-in-law.

They took the bus around to the Place du Concord, and decided to hit the high-end shops. Tom good-naturedly agreed to be the packhorse, while they both shopped. In the end, neither bought much except at Sephora, a beauty/perfume/bath shop that had stores all over the world. The Paris store, apparently, was the mother ship.

Mike dragged Jensen down the ramp leading down onto the floor. The sheer size of the store was breathtaking. Mike and Jensen looked at each other with huge grins, and left Tom to mill about by the entrance. They wandered through the cologne section, stopping to sniff and laugh over the names. Jensen finally found one in a lovely blue bottle that smelled nice on the tester strip. He spritzed his wrist, intending to make sure that it still smelled good in twenty minutes as it did at that moment.

The bath section was filled with bottles and packets. Jensen looked at the differently shaped bath beads while Mike sniffed the various bubble baths. The body and bath oil were on the next aisle, and Mike gleefully sorted through the bottles.

"I think Tom and I could have some fun with this," he said, holding up a bottle of massage oil. "You know, with the French language, you could say the most boring thing, but because it was in French, it sounds amazingly erotic. I mean, this just says almond oil, but in French, whoa buddy!"

Jensen ended up with a the cologne he had tried on, as well as a bottle of bubble bath-there was no reason to let the big tub back in the hotel room go to waste.   They paid for their purchases, and found Tom hiding in the corner, trying to escape several overly helpful salespeople.

They continued to walk down the Champs Elysees, peering in windows and laughing. They ended up at the Arc du Triumph, and went underneath the street to reach the monument. Tom climbed up to the top, and looked out across the area. Back down on the ground, Jensen and Mike read the inscriptions and studied all of the carvings on the monument. Jensen walked the perimeter, looking down each wagon wheel street, marveling in the layout of the city.

They took the Metro back to the hotel, and by that time Jensen was close to dropping. Mike and Tom asked if he would like to join them for dinner, but he cried off. He just wanted a snack, and then a long bath.

They invited him to go with them out to Versailles on the next day, but he already had a trip planned out to Chartres, a town outside of Paris with an amazing cathedral. They made him promise to go to breakfast with them on Sunday, so they could make sure he was okay. Jensen laughed, and sent them out to a romantic dinner.

He found a pizza place in the neighborhood, and ordered a small pizza which he took up to his room. He ate dinner, and then went into the bathroom to draw a hot bath, with several caps full of iris scented bubble bath. He slipped into the tub, and lost himself in a murder mystery. He worried about sleeping, after the day he'd had, but his head had barely hit the pillow before he fell into a deep sleep.

Jensen spent the next day in Chartres, enjoying the scenery. He ended up back at the hotel relatively early, and after a dinner of bread and cheese, he crawled into bed. He met Mike and Tom for breakfast the next day, as promised, and they exchanged contact info before Jensen went off for one last round of sight-seeing before heading home. Bags stuffed to capacity, he finally climbed aboard the train home, ready for the weekend to end.

He was wary of going into the office on Monday. He wasn't sure how Johnny would react, and what stories would already be floating around the office. There was one comforting thought; Douglas and James would be on his side, he was sure of it.

James didn't say anything when Jensen got in, but he couldn't tell if it was because he was busy, or if he was just trying to be polite. Jensen logged on and sent a quick email to Ally, asking if she'd like to walk up to the airport to grab lunch. He didn't feel like telling his tale in the office lunch room, or the pub where a quarter of their staff spent their lunch hour.

He didn't think about it again until Andrew and Hannah came by to ask James a question. He could tell by the sideways looks that Johnny was telling his version already.  Andrew was a little chilly towards, but Hannah smiled and patted his shoulder before they left. At least some people weren't taken in by Johnny's story, whatever version he was telling.

Ally emailed him back, and said she'd meet him on the second level of the South Terminal around noon. He ducked out a little early, needing to drop by Boots while he was there. They met at the top of the escalator, and walked over to a little Italian place.

"So what in the hell happened with Johnny?" she asked, after the waitress had seated us. "You were pretty cryptic this morning."

"I didn't have time to write out the whole saga," Jensen said. He told her about Johnny spending his time drinking, leaving Jensen on his own. About the fight, and his appearance in the hallway wearing nothing but a sheet. And he told her about his rescuers, who had looked after him and plied him with pastries and coffee.

"You poor thing, you really did have a rotten time, didn't you," she said.

"Well, aside from all the drama, Paris really was nice. One of these days, I'd like to go there with someone who would actually enjoy the same parts of it that I do."

"You just need to keep your mind off of Johnny. When does your family get here?" she asked.

"Week after next," Jensen said. "They fly in on Monday, and they leave twelve days later."

"Are you spending the whole time with them? I don't know if I could handle it," she said.

"Well, I'll stay with them until the urge to push them off the top of a mountain gets the better of me," Jensen shrugged. "Really, Josh is the only one I'm worried about. We usually start bickering within twenty minutes of seeing each other. I've got a back-up plan, though. I told Douglas that I'd call in every couple of days, and if I gave the word, he'd order me to come back to the office right away."

"Can't you just tell your family that you have to go back? Why drag Douglas into it?" she asked.

"That way, I'm not technically lying. If he asks me to come back, it's all on the level," Jensen said. "No bad karma."

"Well, after your weekend in Paris, I think you're owed a nice, peaceful trip with your family. I'll keep my fingers crossed," she said.

"And keep the bail money handy. You might be getting a call."

The time flew by. Jensen was getting everything squared away before leaving on his trip, and had little time to think about Johnny. It helped that he seemed to be staying on his side of the floor, and leaving Jensen to his. Jensen even switched his lunch hour, so they weren't likely to run into each other. He broke down and told Douglas that they weren't dating any more, and his relief was almost comical.

The day came, and Jensen waited anxiously outside the arrivals area. He was so busy looking for his mother that he didn't even notice the tall, tired looking man in the suit who came up behind me. It wasn't until he cleared his throat and tapped Jensen on the shoulder that he registered who it was.

"Jared! How are you?" Jensen said, giving the other man a huge smile. He was actually in a good mood, and ready to see his family.

Jared seemed a little surprised at his warm welcome. "Good. Tired. I just got in," he said.

"Really? From Houston?" Jensen asked.

Jared nodded. "Same as always."

"My family was on the same flight," Jensen said. "They're here for a visit."

"Well, I was on my best behavior, so if they have spaghetti sauce on their clothes, I promise that it isn't my fault," Jared said. "How long are they here for?"

"Twelve days," Jensen said, rolling his eyes. "I told Ally to have bail money ready in case I push my brother off a mountain top."

"You're not close?" he asked.

"We're fairly close, I guess. We just bicker. It comes from sharing a room all those years," Jensen said.

"I can sympathize," he said. "I have an older brother and a younger sister. There was always lots of bickering around our house."

"Ooh, there they are!" Jensen said, grabbing his arm. He pointed to his visitors, and waved at them energetically. "Mom looks like she's about to drop. I'll need to get coffee into her ASAP. Care to join us?" It slipped out before he could stop himself. Jensen didn't know which of them was more surprised.

"I'd love to," Jared said. They walked to the end of the gauntlet, and Jensen waved down his family. He threw his arms around them all, in turn, exchanging kisses and hellos.

"How was your flight?" he asked.

"Good," Josh said. "But is sure doesn’t get any shorter."

"Who's your friend?" Mackenzie asked, looking Jared up and down. He blushed, and tried to keep from squirming.

"I'm sorry. Where are my manners? This is Jared," Jensen explained. "We met at Muster in London. He was actually on the same flight as y'all."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Jared," Donna said, shaking his hand. "Do you live in London?"

"No ma'am. I travel back and forth between here and Houston. I keep running into your son here in the airport," he said, with a grin.

"You all look absolutely shattered," Jensen said. "Why don't we go upstairs and grab some coffee?" They took the elevators up to the second level, and rolled over to Starbucks. Jensen took orders from his family, and he and Jared went to stand in line. He automatically ordered two chocolate muffins, much to Jared's amusement.

When they'd finally gotten their orders, they crowded around a table and talked about the flight. Talk shifted to the Ackles' plans for the next ten days. Jared was surprised to hear that Jensen was planning on doing the driving on their trip to Scotland.

"You think you're up to the other side of the road?" he asked. Before Jensen had a chance to get offended, he clarified. "I'm not sure I could get used to it. The gear shift and everything is on the wrong side in English cars. You're certainly braver than I."

"Well, talk to me in twelve days, and we'll see," Jensen said, glad that he had waited before jumping down Jared's throat. They heard an announcement for a flight to Brussels, and Jared checked his watch.

"Whoa, I have to get going. It was a pleasure meeting you," he said, smiling at Jensen's family. His mother and sister were almost drooling.

"And you," he said, turning to Jensen. "I'll talk to you soon. I seem to have lost your number, though. Can I get you to write it down again?" He'd never had Jensen's number, and they both knew it. He was waiting to see if Jensen called him on it in front of his family. He was having a lucky day. Jensen gave him his number, and Jared gave him a broad wink before heading down to the train platform.

"He's just adorable," Donna said, watching him walk away.

"How come we've never heard about him?" Mac asked.

"Well, we're really not that good of friends," Jensen said. "He's the one that splashed marinara sauce on my shirt on the flight over." They'd all heard that story.

"But he seems like such a nice boy," Donna fretted.

"As it turns out, he maybe is," Jensen said. "He was just having a bad day."

"Well, I'm sure I can sympathize with that," Josh said. "Listen, can we get out of here? I'm dead on my feet."

They took a cab to Jensen's flat and unloaded all of the luggage. Natalie was away, but she'd left a spare set of keys, as well as permission to house part of Jensen's family in her spare bedrooms. Jensen put Mackenzie and Josh up at Natalie's, and gave his mother his bedroom. He actually liked the couch, so it wasn't a real hardship having to sleep on it.

He left them to take naps, while he ran out to the market. He had plans to take them into town for dinner, but he wanted to make sure to have snack-type stuff around when they woke up.

He put on the kettle around three. If they slept any longer, they wouldn't be able to sleep that night.  Mac was the first one to get up. She came in through the back door, and plopped down at the dining table.

"Feeling better?" Jensen asked. He set a cup of tea down in front of her, and slid the sugar and creamer over to her as well.

"A little," she said.

"A cuppa tea heals all wounds," he said. "So how have you been? Things okay at the school?"

"School's fine. Dr. Gomez is still throwing her weight around." Mac said, with a shrug. "How's work for you? Do you still like your boss? Douglas, isn't it?" Jensen heard the back door open again.

"Douglas and James," Jensen said. "They're both great. They've sort of adopted me as a little brother."

"Do they know how hard it is to be your big brother?" Josh asked, joining them at the table.

"You talk pretty tough for someone who gave me his passport for safekeeping," Jensen said. Donna joined them in the dining area.

"Please don't start. Can't you two be civil for two minutes?" she said. Jensen poured tea for the others and a cup for himself.

"Well, it's around 3 pm now. What would you guys like to do this afternoon? It's a little late to go into London, but we could poke around here and see the sights, such as they are."

"I didn't pack any shampoo or anything," Josh said. "Can we run by a drugstore?"

"There is a Boots in the mall," Jensen said. "It's on the way into town, so it shouldn't be a problem. But we should probably go soon. Things shut down around here six o'clock or so."

They walked into town, moving a little slowly. They passed the train station, and paused to cross the street. Jensen was used to the roundabouts by then, but his mother was a little hesitant. They had a couple of false starts before he finally prodded them all to scoot across the road,

"It's a mall," Mac said, her voice tinged with disappointment.

"I know," Jensen chuckled. "What? You didn't believe me?"

"But, that's not very English!" Josh said.

"You think the English don't have to shop?" Jensen asked. "Considering how early stores close, it's kind of nice to have everything in one spot. But don't worry; they don't have one in every town. Lot's of people come into Crawley to do their shopping. The town may not be as picturesque, but living here isn't nearly as big of an adjustment."

After the mall they wandered about the town, browsing and taking pictures. When they were about to drop from lack of food, they walked over to the High Street. There were a dozen good restaurants, none of them really serving typical English food. They chose Ask, a chain Italian restaurant. It had the distinction of being housed in a fifteenth century Tudor style building. Donna got a kick out of eating dinner in a building older than the U.S.

"What can I get for you this evening?" the waiter asked.

"Wine," they all said in unison, and then laughed. They ended up ordering a bottle of red wine, and were halfway through it when the waiter finally took their food order. The kitchen was quick that evening, however, and they were soon munching away on pasta.

"What time do we need to pick up the rental tomorrow?" Jensen asked Josh. He was in charge of all of the organizational stuff.

"Around ten," he said. "Would it be easier for us all to take the train into the airport, or do you think you could go pick it up and then come back here?"

"Well, considering that I'm not as familiar with Crawley when it comes to cars, it might be easier if we all went into the airport," Jensen said. It would be a simple thing to get out onto the motorway from Gatwick. From his flat, it would be a little trickier.

"Okay," Josh said. "What time do we need to leave the flat?"

"Around 9:30 or so," Jensen replied. "If Mom and Mac are running a little late, you and I can go ahead and take care of the paperwork, and then they can meet us there."

"I'd rather we all went together," Donna said. "I'm afraid I'll get turned around in there."

"I can find it, Mother," Mac said, managing to avoid an eye roll.

"Maybe so, but I'd still rather we all went together. Jensen is the one who knows his way around here," Donna said.

They finished dinner and walked back to the flat. They were still tired, and the wine hadn't helped. Jensen tucked them all in bed, and set the alarm clocks. Finally, he toddled off to the sitting room to watch the news before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

Jensen was proud of himself. They had made it through Yorkshire and Scotland, with no blood shed. But every day, he and Josh sniped just that little bit more, and by the time they made it to Bath, Jensen had had enough. He didn't want to ruin the entire vacation by having a blowup, so he had to have a reasonable excuse to get out before he tanked his relationship with his brother over a vacation.

Douglas was happy to help Jensen out and gave the 'safe word' gladly. When the others came down to breakfast, Jensen gave them the bad news.  His mother looked sad, but he detected a distinct note of relief from Josh and Mac. He spent the morning with them in Bath, and caught a train that afternoon.

After he hugged and kissed them goodbye, he said he'd see them in two days. Once they'd left, it was like a weight lifted off of his shoulders. He grabbed a soda and a candy bar, and went up to the platform. Once on the train, he collapsed into an empty seat and dug out a book. It was early evening by the time he got home, and it was nice to have the place to himself. He went out and grabbed fish and chips, and settled down in front of the television. Ah, he thought. Much better.

Next.
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