Due North (2/8)
Author: writewanderlust
Artist: sapphrein
Beta: therellbepeace3
Genre: RPS AU
Pairing: Jensen/Jared, with brief mentions of previous relationships
Rating: PG
Word count: ~ 4,000
Summary: Jensen is a barista with a sordid past, Jared is running away from the shambles of his engagement; they come together in the wilderness of Caribou, Maine. Jared is everything Jensen isn't: outgoing, noisy, and cheerful. It's annoying. Especially since Jared has apparently decided that he likes Jensen and will stop at nothing to get a date with him. Jensen can't send him away as long as he's paying for coffee, and Jared won't take no for an answer, so Jensen agrees to a single date. With a little luck, and the magic of the Northern Lights, maybe they can have a chance after all.
Overall, Jensen was pretty satisfied with his life. He had a nice apartment, great (if a little insane) friends, and a job that nicely facilitated his coffee addiction. Even if he was perpetually single (as his dear sister continued to point out), he was happy for the most part. Everyone was occasionally lonely, he figured, but his last dating experience had only made him miserable, so it was better to be single, really.
Unfortunately, one Danneel Harris didn’t agree with that assessment, and when Danni had an opinion, she didn’t hesitate to express it.
“Jennnnnnnsennnnnnnn, just one teeny, tiny date?”
“I said no, Danni, and I meant it.” Jensen said staunchly, avoiding her gaze to focus on brewing some espresso.
“But he’s super great and he’s a painter…” she pressed. “How do you know you won’t like him unless you try?”
“I’m sure Richard is a perfectly decent guy, but I don’t do blind dates.”
Danni pouted prettily. “You don’t do any dates.”
Jensen was spared having to respond by Misha’s appearance.
“Are you harassing Jensen again?” he asked, shrugging off his coat and tossing it under the counter.
“I prefer to see it as being concerned about his well-being.”
“Yeah, well, I prefer to see it as you being a busybody,” Misha retorted, hip-checking her. He gave Jensen a conspiratorial wink.
Danneel put her hands on her hips and scowled at Misha while Jensen bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Misha, seriously, I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“It’s okay, Danni, he’s just teasing,” Jensen said, intervening before she started to get genuinely upset. “I appreciate the sentiment…but I’m not going on a blind date.”
Danni sighed. “All those good looks and that charming personality and you wanna be single.”
“You’re just jealous he doesn’t swing your way,” Misha teased and she swatted him with a dishtowel.
Jensen poked her in the ribs and she shrieked with laugher. “If it’s any consolation, if I was even a little straight, I’d totally be in love with you.”
She snapped the dishtowel at him and he danced out of reaching, laughing. “Hate you, Ackles.”
“Impossible. I’m a joy to be around.”
Danneel shook her head, but she was smiling. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you two pains-in-the-ass.”
“You loooooooove us,” Misha sing-songed, “Your life would be cold and friendless withouuuuuuut us.”
Jensen leaned back against the counter and watched his friends bantering, a smile playing at his lips.
Yeah, he had a pretty good life.
***
When Jensen first moved to Caribou, he’d been in a really bad place. That was the only explanation for why he did what he did; no sane person abandoned beautiful Richardson, Texas for the cold, sparse Northeast. And yet, that’s exactly what Jensen had done.
He hadn’t had anything when he left except his car and a duffle bag full of clothes. Barely eighteen and scared out of his mind, torn up by grief, he’d driven and driven until he’d stumbled into Caribou, pretty much on luck.
Jensen had slept in his car for three days before he found a landlord who was willing to take the crumpled bills he offered for an apartment deposit. He’d slept on the living room floor, shivering in a sleeping bag, for another week while he looked for work.
Salvation had come in the form of Danneel Harris, a beautiful and talented photographer who’d just opened up a coffee shop on Main Street. Jensen had seen the Help Wanted sign in the window and hovered in the doorway for a few minutes, deliberating, before he finally went inside.
Danneel had her back to the door, a paint roller in her hands. She was bopping around to music Jensen could hear blasting from her headphones, even from across the room. Barefoot, with her jeans rolled mid-way up her thighs, she looked like the quintessential idealistic artist, and Jensen was immediately charmed.
“Excuse me?” he said, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. Danneel yelped, swinging around wielding the paint roller like a weapon. Jensen barely avoided being brained by the roller, but there was no dodging the purple paint that spattered his face and neck.
“Oh my God!” Danneel exclaimed, wrenching out one of her ear buds. “You scared the shit out of me; I’m so sorry!”
Jensen scrubbed his knuckles across his face and they came away smeared purple. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. Besides, my mother’s always insisting I look great in purple.“
Danneel stared at him for another minute, her face the perfect picture of shock, and then she burst out laughing.
“I attacked you with a paint roller and-and you just-” she dissolved into giggles again and Jensen couldn’t help joining in. He felt lighter than he had in weeks, laughing with this perfect stranger, covered in paint.
“Oh,” Danneel sighed, wiping tears from her eyes, “I needed that.” Jensen nodded in agreement and she graced him with another sunny smile. “So what can I do for you, now that I’ve attacked you and ruined your clothes?”
“I saw your sign,” Jensen replied, jerking his thumb back in the direction of the door. “Was hoping you were maybe still looking for help.”
Danneel nodded. “Do you have any experience as a barista?”
Jensen’s heart sank. “Well-no, but I learn fast and I really like coffee, which is probably not that important, but y’know. I just moved to town and I don’t have any money and I really need a job, so I was just hoping-”
“Dude,” Danneel cut through his babbling. “Breathe. You don’t need experience, I was just wondering. God knows I don’t have any experience opening my own store! And I do kinda owe you after that display.”
“Is…is that a yes?” Jensen said hopefully. Danneel laughed.
“That’s a yes,” she answered. “But you have to do one thing for me first.”
“Anything.”
“Tell me your name?” she asked, and Jensen felt his face heat up.
“Oh my God, I’m such an idiot,” he exclaimed, offering her his hand., “My name’s Jensen Ackles.”
“Cool name,” she said. Her handshake was firm and confident and Jensen liked her all the more for it. “I’m Danneel Harris, but all my friends call me Danni. You can call me Danni.”
Jensen smiled again. He’d smiled more in the last ten minutes than in the whole month before, “Well Danni,” he said, “I think this is beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
***
Two weeks after Jensen started working at the coffee shop, he woke up at five o’clock in the morning to the sound of furious pounding at his front door. Never even remotely what you’d call a morning person, he groaned and rolled out of bed, staggering towards the front door and the incessant banging.
“What?” he snarled, flinging open the door. He was in no mood for this nonsense; it was his day off-
Chris was standing in the doorway, and he looked pissed.
“Hey, asshole, how’s life? Good? Mine’s been great ever since my best friend left the damn state without a single word.”
Jensen blinked slowly a couple of times, the fog clearing from his mind in slow stages. He opened the door a little wider and stepped to the side. “You want some coffee?”
“Damn right I want some coffee!”
Twenty minutes later, they were settled on the sofa, facing one another, each clutching mugs of coffee and staring at each other warily.
“So you want to explain why you left without calling me?” Chris said after a while, when it became clear that Jensen wasn’t going to offer up any explanations on his own. “I went crazy, man, I thought something had happened to you!”
Jensen shrugged uncomfortably. “I had to get away, things were so bad…”
“Well, yeah, Jenny, I know,” Chris said patiently. “But why the hell didn’t you call me before just vanishing off to God-knows-where?”
There was a loose thread on the end of Jensen’s bathrobe and he was finding it endlessly fascinating. “I dunno,” he hedged, tugging at the thread and avoiding Chris’ eyes. “I didn’t know if you were gonna want to talk to me.”
For a long moment, Chris didn’t say anything. When Jensen finally risked a glance at him, his friend was scowling like he’d just swallowed something particularly disgusting. “Goddamnit, Jensen! You’re my best friend! You actually think I care about that shit?”
Jensen felt a wave of relief course through him. Chris didn’t hate him, he still was his friend. The weight that Jensen hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying was gone and he thought he could probably cry, but he just swallowed thickly. “Thanks, man,” he said roughly. “I’m sorry I left without telling you.”
“Apology accepted,” Chris said breezily. “You can make it up to me by helping me unpack later.”
“I-what?”
Chris rolled his eyes. “You didn’t think I was going to let you run off and live all on your own up here in Bumfuck, Nowhere, did you?”
“Chris you don’t have to…what about school?” Jensen protested. “Didn’t you get accepted at A&M?”
“Yeah, whatever, I don’t think college life is for me, anyway,” his friend answered with a wave of his hand. “Besides, I went off to visit campus for one weekend and came back to hear you’d moved to Maine. What kind of decisions would you be making if I was thirty hours away on a regular basis?”
Jensen tossed a throw pillow at him. “It’s not that bad!” he protested. “Maybe a little cold, but it’s peaceful here. No one to bother you,” he added, a little more quietly.
Chris smiled sadly, understanding. “But there’s no one to be here for you either, Jense.” He shook his head. “So I’m staying, whether you like it or not. I’ll sleep on your couch until I can find a place of my own-“
“Actually,” Jensen cut in, “if you’re so determined to stay, you might as well get on the lease with me. This apartment has two bedrooms-it was all they had left when I got here.”
“Well, damn, son!” Chris crowed, slapping him on the back. “Sounds like it was meant to be!”
Jensen smiled into his mug. He didn’t want to say it out loud, but having Chris there meant the world to him.
***
Things had started to look up from then on out; Mack had called, the coffee shop was a huge hit, and Jensen started to think that maybe his life wasn’t over. Maybe he could get through the disaster of the last month and come out the other side a stronger person.
Jensen was still reserved, and he was not about to lie and say he wasn’t still hurting, but things were getting better. He had friends here, and a job. He was going to be just fine.
***
“You realize it’s going to be our five year anniversary in March?” Jensen said one morning when he was helping Danni open the coffee shop for the day. “Not yours and mine, obviously. The shop’s. We’ve been here for five years.”
Danni laughed. “I started to say, if we were dating, I think I would know about it.” Her brow furrowed. “Are you sure it’s been five years?”
Jensen nodded. “Yeah, we opened on St. Patrick’s Day, remember? For good luck, you said. That was five years ago.”
“Oh my God!” she yelped, hands flying to her face. “We have to do something! Like, some kind of celebration or something!” She reached under the counter and whipped out a notepad and started searching distractedly for a pen. “How did I not realize…and we only have like a month and a half, that’s hardly enough time to plan something!”
Jensen watched her pace for a few minutes, amused. After a while, he took pity on her and caught her by the elbow, pulling her over to lean on the counter next to him. “Hey, whoa, it’ll be okay,” he assured her. “We’re not the only ones who work here, you know. Hilarie’s great at this kind of stuff…and you know Misha will have some sort of interesting ideas to put in.”
Danneel nodded reluctantly. “I’m sure everyone will have great ideas and be willing to help, but do you really think we can pull this off in a month?”
“Absolutely,” Jensen said. “Danni, you’re the hardest worker I know, and you motivate all your employees to work hard, too. You think I would get up this early every morning for just anyone?”
Danni smiled and kissed his cheek. “Aw, Jensen, you say the sweetest things.”
“It’s because I’m a really good person,” he replied, mock seriously. “Now didn’t you close last night? Why don’t you get outta here for a while? Misha’ll be in at eleven, I can hold down the fort by myself until then.”
“You sure?” she asked, “I can stay, it’s no big deal.”
Jensen shook his head. “I know you can stay, but you really should get some rest. Go take a nap, then get up and do some brainstorming and come back this afternoon. We’ll be fine here.”
Danneel hesitated for a few more minutes, rinsing espresso glasses and reminding Jensen that the one French press had a leak, before she finally gave up and took off her apron. “I’ll be back around lunch time, though,” she promised, dropping it on the hook. “And I’ll have a whole list of ideas for this fifth anniversary thing!”
Jensen shook his head, smiling. “Looking forward to it, boss.”
Danni shot him a scowl and disappeared out the door, leaving Jensen alone in the coffee shop.
Jensen knew that Danni, and especially Misha, didn’t understand but Jensen loved to have time to himself, without any noise or distractions. This early in the morning there weren’t even customers, so he settled in on the back counter with his notebook, keeping an eye on the front door just in case. Not like anyone in this town would find it unusual to see one of their baristas perched on the counter top, but Jensen was maybe more self-conscious than the others.
He’d been working on a bit of dialogue last night, woken from a bizarre dream at two in the morning, and he was hoping that the inspiration was still there. God only knew he hadn’t been feeling very inspired lately. Jensen wasn’t sure why, but he felt kind of like he was stuck in a rut.
He loved his job, and his friends, and even his apartment with Chris. But he hadn’t written anything of substance in months, and it was starting to depress him. Jensen recognized that he was young, that he still had plenty of time if he wanted to publish, and that he needed to stop worrying, but when he looked down at the notebook, at the dialogue he had been so excited about last night, all he could feel was disappointment. The words were flat, the characters mundane and their problems inconsequential. How was he supposed to capture the imaginations of thousands of people if he couldn’t even keep himself interested?
“Whatever,” he muttered to himself, tossing the notebook to the side. He’d try again later, no point in going into it with a bad attitude, or he’d never get anything done. He went to set the espresso machine to brew, thinking he’d probably feel better after a little more caffeine.
The rest of the morning passed in a slow sort of haze. Jensen only had a couple customers to serve, mostly regulars who grabbed their coffee to-go, so the shop remained blessedly quiet until Misha showed up at ten.
“Hola Mishamigo!” he said cheerily bursting in through the back door. He looked ridiculously happy, and Jensen knew it wasn’t for any particular reason; that was just the kind of guy Misha was. “What number is that?” he asked, nodding at the mug in Jensen’s hands.
“Only four!” he said defensively. “I can quit any time I want.”
“Absolutely. And I once trained an elephant to play piccolo,” Misha replied solemnly.
Jensen hesitated. “…did you?”
Misha laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Not yet. Maybe next Tuesday.”
“You’re such a weirdo, Mish.”
“You have no idea.”
Misha had moved to town about a year after Jensen had and he’d charmed his way into Danni’s heart by asking for a job, and then proceeding to climb over the counter to prove how well he could brew coffee. He’s been a permanent fixture in the coffee shop ever since. He was completely insane, but wildly kindhearted as well, and Jensen had no problem claiming him as one of his closest friends. Chris had been a little unsure about him in the beginning, which was probably more Jensen’s fault than Misha’s, but even the grumpy guitarist had eventually warmed up to him.
“So I made the mistake of mentioning that our fifth anniversary is in March and now Danneel’s freaking out,” Jensen said conversationally.
“Oh, I bet that was a fun conversation,” Misha said, tinkering with the espresso machine, making one of his weird concoctions. “Does she want to do a party?”
Jensen shrugged, leaning back against the counter. “Dunno, but she wants to do something. I was hoping you might have some ideas.”
“If you get me a pony and five pounds of margarine and we’re in business,” Misha said, deadpan. Jensen flicked him with a dishtowel and he yelped, dancing away. “Okay, fine, no pony.”
“We could set up a block party,” Jensen mused out loud. “Kitchy Coffee could host and we could invite other businesses on Main Street to participate. You know Sam and Jim would be in.”
“Probably that new girl, Genevieve, too,” Misha added.
“Who?” Jensen asked, confused.
Misha rolled his eyes. “Are you even aware of the world around you?” he said, but his voice was fond. “She’s the girl who bought the storefront across the street. Renovating it into a bookstore. ‘Bout yeh tall, long dark hair. She’s very sweet.”
“Aww, Mish, d’you have a crush?” Jensen teased.
Misha ducked his head and laughed a little disparagingly. “Hardly. She’s just a nice girl. I bet she’d love to get some publicity, if Danni likes your block party idea.”
“Cool,” Jensen said, grinning. He was suddenly feeling really enthusiastic about this idea. Maybe it would pull him out of this weird funk, or inspire him or something. It could be fun.
When he pulled himself from his musing, Misha was watching him with a small smile on his face. “It’s a good idea, Jensen. I bet she’ll love it.”
Jensen bumped their shoulders together companionably and went to serve the customer who had just appeared at the counter.
Maybe things were looking up.
***
A couple hours later, Jensen was wondering if he needed to reassess that conclusion.
Misha had vanished into the back room to do inventory, leaving Jensen alone at the counter, and despite the briskness of the weather, business seemed content to remain slow. There was no one in the coffee shop, so he figured it would be a good time to get caught up on the dishes.
Less than fifteen minutes after he’d gotten started, elbows deep in hot, sudsy water, the chime above the door played, heralding the arrival of a customer. Jensen hummed along with The Beatles, taking time to finish rinsing the glass he was currently on before grabbing a dish towel and drying his hands.
The first thing Jensen noticed about the guy standing at the counter was that he was HUGE. Jensen was by no means a short man, but this guy towered over him by a good couple inches. Jensen didn’t think he’d ever seen him before around town, and definitely not in the coffee shop. He would’ve remembered this guy.
The guy didn’t seem to realize that Jensen was waiting for his order, staring at the menu overhead with some confusion. Probably just drank black coffee straight from the percolator most of the time.
So Jensen was a little bit of a coffee snob; he was a barista, it was allowed.
“You plannin’ on ordering something?” he asked, after it became apparent the guy wasn’t going to notice him, and the guy looked away from the menu and made eye contact.
Holy shit, but he was attractive. High cheekbones and an aquiline nose, Jensen was pretty sure that this guy was a model. He knew he wasn’t terrible-looking himself, but looking at this guy with the soft hazel eyes kind of made him feel less, somehow.
Of course, the guy immediately ruined it by opening his mouth. Wasn’t that always the way.
“Wow.”
“What?” Jensen asked, raising an eyebrow. The kid-and he was a kid, Jensen could see it now, a few years younger than he was-looked completely thunderstruck, like he’d never seen a barista before.
“You’re just really beautiful, oh my God.”
Jensen blinked, kind of stunned. Sure, he’d heard some weird come-ons in his time, but never anything quite so blatant. It was really frustrating, having people who were only interested in him because of his looks, and having someone verbalize it so openly sent a bolt of annoyance through him.
“So…did you come here for coffee, or just to shout your internal monologue at complete strangers?” he drawled, wanting to just get this guy through the line and gone.
“I-I came for the coffee,” the customer stammered, and Jensen heard a familiar drawl sneak into his voice. “I didn’t expect-” Wow, what a line. Was this dude serious?
“Yeah, because who expects to see a barista behind the counter of a coffee shop?” Jensen shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. He was starting to get good and riled now, Texas dripping from his vowels like it hadn’t in years. The guy’s eyes widened in recognition and if that didn’t just irritate Jensen further.
“What’s your name?”
“Do you have Tourette's?” Jensen said, just being straight-up rude at this point, but the guy couldn’t take a hint, his mouth twisting into a sloppy grin.
“No.”
“Uh huh.” Like Jensen believed that. “Did you want coffee or what?”
Danni appeared before the guy could reply, punching Jensen in the arm with a grin. “You aren’t harassing the customers, are you, Jensen?”
Oh thank God, salvation. “Danni! Perfect timing! I’m supposed to be going on break…and I know how much you like helping first-time customers. I’ll just let you take over here.” Before she could protest, he slipped from between her and the counter and booked it out the back door, barely remembering to grab his leather jacket on his way out. Hopefully Danneel would have better luck with Gigantor.
Misha was standing on the back porch, hands in his pockets, staring placidly out at the sky. Jensen came to stand next to him, agitated, and dug a pack of Marlboros out of his jacket pocket and lit one up, taking a deep calming drag off the cigarette.
“Somebody winding you up, Jackles?” the other barista asked, giving him a probing look.
Jensen barked out a laugh. “Some guy I’ve never seen before started waxing poetic about my face, wouldn’t just give me his damn order.”
“Well you do have a nice face,” Misha pointed out diplomatically. Jensen glared at him and he held up his hands defensively. “I’m just sayin’.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t just say that to complete strangers!” Jensen argued. “It’s weird and I don’t like it.”
Misha smiled. “Yeah, you are a little more reserved then most, aren’t you Ackles.” When Jensen harrumphed at that, he just chuckled a little. “Don’t worry, we like you that way.”
“It just made me feel really uncomfortable,” Jensen confessed and Misha turned his big blue eyes on him.
“Don’t worry,” he said reassuringly. “He was probably just passing through-I bet you’ll never have to see him again.”
Jensen sagged against the porch railing, expelling a deep sigh. “I hope you’re right, man. I hope you’re right.”
Artist: sapphrein
Beta: therellbepeace3
Genre: RPS AU
Pairing: Jensen/Jared, with brief mentions of previous relationships
Rating: PG
Word count: ~ 4,000
Summary: Jensen is a barista with a sordid past, Jared is running away from the shambles of his engagement; they come together in the wilderness of Caribou, Maine. Jared is everything Jensen isn't: outgoing, noisy, and cheerful. It's annoying. Especially since Jared has apparently decided that he likes Jensen and will stop at nothing to get a date with him. Jensen can't send him away as long as he's paying for coffee, and Jared won't take no for an answer, so Jensen agrees to a single date. With a little luck, and the magic of the Northern Lights, maybe they can have a chance after all.
Overall, Jensen was pretty satisfied with his life. He had a nice apartment, great (if a little insane) friends, and a job that nicely facilitated his coffee addiction. Even if he was perpetually single (as his dear sister continued to point out), he was happy for the most part. Everyone was occasionally lonely, he figured, but his last dating experience had only made him miserable, so it was better to be single, really.
Unfortunately, one Danneel Harris didn’t agree with that assessment, and when Danni had an opinion, she didn’t hesitate to express it.
“Jennnnnnnsennnnnnnn, just one teeny, tiny date?”
“I said no, Danni, and I meant it.” Jensen said staunchly, avoiding her gaze to focus on brewing some espresso.
“But he’s super great and he’s a painter…” she pressed. “How do you know you won’t like him unless you try?”
“I’m sure Richard is a perfectly decent guy, but I don’t do blind dates.”
Danni pouted prettily. “You don’t do any dates.”
Jensen was spared having to respond by Misha’s appearance.
“Are you harassing Jensen again?” he asked, shrugging off his coat and tossing it under the counter.
“I prefer to see it as being concerned about his well-being.”
“Yeah, well, I prefer to see it as you being a busybody,” Misha retorted, hip-checking her. He gave Jensen a conspiratorial wink.
Danneel put her hands on her hips and scowled at Misha while Jensen bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Misha, seriously, I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“It’s okay, Danni, he’s just teasing,” Jensen said, intervening before she started to get genuinely upset. “I appreciate the sentiment…but I’m not going on a blind date.”
Danni sighed. “All those good looks and that charming personality and you wanna be single.”
“You’re just jealous he doesn’t swing your way,” Misha teased and she swatted him with a dishtowel.
Jensen poked her in the ribs and she shrieked with laugher. “If it’s any consolation, if I was even a little straight, I’d totally be in love with you.”
She snapped the dishtowel at him and he danced out of reaching, laughing. “Hate you, Ackles.”
“Impossible. I’m a joy to be around.”
Danneel shook her head, but she was smiling. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you two pains-in-the-ass.”
“You loooooooove us,” Misha sing-songed, “Your life would be cold and friendless withouuuuuuut us.”
Jensen leaned back against the counter and watched his friends bantering, a smile playing at his lips.
Yeah, he had a pretty good life.
***
When Jensen first moved to Caribou, he’d been in a really bad place. That was the only explanation for why he did what he did; no sane person abandoned beautiful Richardson, Texas for the cold, sparse Northeast. And yet, that’s exactly what Jensen had done.
He hadn’t had anything when he left except his car and a duffle bag full of clothes. Barely eighteen and scared out of his mind, torn up by grief, he’d driven and driven until he’d stumbled into Caribou, pretty much on luck.
Jensen had slept in his car for three days before he found a landlord who was willing to take the crumpled bills he offered for an apartment deposit. He’d slept on the living room floor, shivering in a sleeping bag, for another week while he looked for work.
Salvation had come in the form of Danneel Harris, a beautiful and talented photographer who’d just opened up a coffee shop on Main Street. Jensen had seen the Help Wanted sign in the window and hovered in the doorway for a few minutes, deliberating, before he finally went inside.
Danneel had her back to the door, a paint roller in her hands. She was bopping around to music Jensen could hear blasting from her headphones, even from across the room. Barefoot, with her jeans rolled mid-way up her thighs, she looked like the quintessential idealistic artist, and Jensen was immediately charmed.
“Excuse me?” he said, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. Danneel yelped, swinging around wielding the paint roller like a weapon. Jensen barely avoided being brained by the roller, but there was no dodging the purple paint that spattered his face and neck.
“Oh my God!” Danneel exclaimed, wrenching out one of her ear buds. “You scared the shit out of me; I’m so sorry!”
Jensen scrubbed his knuckles across his face and they came away smeared purple. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. Besides, my mother’s always insisting I look great in purple.“
Danneel stared at him for another minute, her face the perfect picture of shock, and then she burst out laughing.
“I attacked you with a paint roller and-and you just-” she dissolved into giggles again and Jensen couldn’t help joining in. He felt lighter than he had in weeks, laughing with this perfect stranger, covered in paint.
“Oh,” Danneel sighed, wiping tears from her eyes, “I needed that.” Jensen nodded in agreement and she graced him with another sunny smile. “So what can I do for you, now that I’ve attacked you and ruined your clothes?”
“I saw your sign,” Jensen replied, jerking his thumb back in the direction of the door. “Was hoping you were maybe still looking for help.”
Danneel nodded. “Do you have any experience as a barista?”
Jensen’s heart sank. “Well-no, but I learn fast and I really like coffee, which is probably not that important, but y’know. I just moved to town and I don’t have any money and I really need a job, so I was just hoping-”
“Dude,” Danneel cut through his babbling. “Breathe. You don’t need experience, I was just wondering. God knows I don’t have any experience opening my own store! And I do kinda owe you after that display.”
“Is…is that a yes?” Jensen said hopefully. Danneel laughed.
“That’s a yes,” she answered. “But you have to do one thing for me first.”
“Anything.”
“Tell me your name?” she asked, and Jensen felt his face heat up.
“Oh my God, I’m such an idiot,” he exclaimed, offering her his hand., “My name’s Jensen Ackles.”
“Cool name,” she said. Her handshake was firm and confident and Jensen liked her all the more for it. “I’m Danneel Harris, but all my friends call me Danni. You can call me Danni.”
Jensen smiled again. He’d smiled more in the last ten minutes than in the whole month before, “Well Danni,” he said, “I think this is beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
***
Two weeks after Jensen started working at the coffee shop, he woke up at five o’clock in the morning to the sound of furious pounding at his front door. Never even remotely what you’d call a morning person, he groaned and rolled out of bed, staggering towards the front door and the incessant banging.
“What?” he snarled, flinging open the door. He was in no mood for this nonsense; it was his day off-
Chris was standing in the doorway, and he looked pissed.
“Hey, asshole, how’s life? Good? Mine’s been great ever since my best friend left the damn state without a single word.”
Jensen blinked slowly a couple of times, the fog clearing from his mind in slow stages. He opened the door a little wider and stepped to the side. “You want some coffee?”
“Damn right I want some coffee!”
Twenty minutes later, they were settled on the sofa, facing one another, each clutching mugs of coffee and staring at each other warily.
“So you want to explain why you left without calling me?” Chris said after a while, when it became clear that Jensen wasn’t going to offer up any explanations on his own. “I went crazy, man, I thought something had happened to you!”
Jensen shrugged uncomfortably. “I had to get away, things were so bad…”
“Well, yeah, Jenny, I know,” Chris said patiently. “But why the hell didn’t you call me before just vanishing off to God-knows-where?”
There was a loose thread on the end of Jensen’s bathrobe and he was finding it endlessly fascinating. “I dunno,” he hedged, tugging at the thread and avoiding Chris’ eyes. “I didn’t know if you were gonna want to talk to me.”
For a long moment, Chris didn’t say anything. When Jensen finally risked a glance at him, his friend was scowling like he’d just swallowed something particularly disgusting. “Goddamnit, Jensen! You’re my best friend! You actually think I care about that shit?”
Jensen felt a wave of relief course through him. Chris didn’t hate him, he still was his friend. The weight that Jensen hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying was gone and he thought he could probably cry, but he just swallowed thickly. “Thanks, man,” he said roughly. “I’m sorry I left without telling you.”
“Apology accepted,” Chris said breezily. “You can make it up to me by helping me unpack later.”
“I-what?”
Chris rolled his eyes. “You didn’t think I was going to let you run off and live all on your own up here in Bumfuck, Nowhere, did you?”
“Chris you don’t have to…what about school?” Jensen protested. “Didn’t you get accepted at A&M?”
“Yeah, whatever, I don’t think college life is for me, anyway,” his friend answered with a wave of his hand. “Besides, I went off to visit campus for one weekend and came back to hear you’d moved to Maine. What kind of decisions would you be making if I was thirty hours away on a regular basis?”
Jensen tossed a throw pillow at him. “It’s not that bad!” he protested. “Maybe a little cold, but it’s peaceful here. No one to bother you,” he added, a little more quietly.
Chris smiled sadly, understanding. “But there’s no one to be here for you either, Jense.” He shook his head. “So I’m staying, whether you like it or not. I’ll sleep on your couch until I can find a place of my own-“
“Actually,” Jensen cut in, “if you’re so determined to stay, you might as well get on the lease with me. This apartment has two bedrooms-it was all they had left when I got here.”
“Well, damn, son!” Chris crowed, slapping him on the back. “Sounds like it was meant to be!”
Jensen smiled into his mug. He didn’t want to say it out loud, but having Chris there meant the world to him.
***
Things had started to look up from then on out; Mack had called, the coffee shop was a huge hit, and Jensen started to think that maybe his life wasn’t over. Maybe he could get through the disaster of the last month and come out the other side a stronger person.
Jensen was still reserved, and he was not about to lie and say he wasn’t still hurting, but things were getting better. He had friends here, and a job. He was going to be just fine.
***
“You realize it’s going to be our five year anniversary in March?” Jensen said one morning when he was helping Danni open the coffee shop for the day. “Not yours and mine, obviously. The shop’s. We’ve been here for five years.”
Danni laughed. “I started to say, if we were dating, I think I would know about it.” Her brow furrowed. “Are you sure it’s been five years?”
Jensen nodded. “Yeah, we opened on St. Patrick’s Day, remember? For good luck, you said. That was five years ago.”
“Oh my God!” she yelped, hands flying to her face. “We have to do something! Like, some kind of celebration or something!” She reached under the counter and whipped out a notepad and started searching distractedly for a pen. “How did I not realize…and we only have like a month and a half, that’s hardly enough time to plan something!”
Jensen watched her pace for a few minutes, amused. After a while, he took pity on her and caught her by the elbow, pulling her over to lean on the counter next to him. “Hey, whoa, it’ll be okay,” he assured her. “We’re not the only ones who work here, you know. Hilarie’s great at this kind of stuff…and you know Misha will have some sort of interesting ideas to put in.”
Danneel nodded reluctantly. “I’m sure everyone will have great ideas and be willing to help, but do you really think we can pull this off in a month?”
“Absolutely,” Jensen said. “Danni, you’re the hardest worker I know, and you motivate all your employees to work hard, too. You think I would get up this early every morning for just anyone?”
Danni smiled and kissed his cheek. “Aw, Jensen, you say the sweetest things.”
“It’s because I’m a really good person,” he replied, mock seriously. “Now didn’t you close last night? Why don’t you get outta here for a while? Misha’ll be in at eleven, I can hold down the fort by myself until then.”
“You sure?” she asked, “I can stay, it’s no big deal.”
Jensen shook his head. “I know you can stay, but you really should get some rest. Go take a nap, then get up and do some brainstorming and come back this afternoon. We’ll be fine here.”
Danneel hesitated for a few more minutes, rinsing espresso glasses and reminding Jensen that the one French press had a leak, before she finally gave up and took off her apron. “I’ll be back around lunch time, though,” she promised, dropping it on the hook. “And I’ll have a whole list of ideas for this fifth anniversary thing!”
Jensen shook his head, smiling. “Looking forward to it, boss.”
Danni shot him a scowl and disappeared out the door, leaving Jensen alone in the coffee shop.
Jensen knew that Danni, and especially Misha, didn’t understand but Jensen loved to have time to himself, without any noise or distractions. This early in the morning there weren’t even customers, so he settled in on the back counter with his notebook, keeping an eye on the front door just in case. Not like anyone in this town would find it unusual to see one of their baristas perched on the counter top, but Jensen was maybe more self-conscious than the others.
He’d been working on a bit of dialogue last night, woken from a bizarre dream at two in the morning, and he was hoping that the inspiration was still there. God only knew he hadn’t been feeling very inspired lately. Jensen wasn’t sure why, but he felt kind of like he was stuck in a rut.
He loved his job, and his friends, and even his apartment with Chris. But he hadn’t written anything of substance in months, and it was starting to depress him. Jensen recognized that he was young, that he still had plenty of time if he wanted to publish, and that he needed to stop worrying, but when he looked down at the notebook, at the dialogue he had been so excited about last night, all he could feel was disappointment. The words were flat, the characters mundane and their problems inconsequential. How was he supposed to capture the imaginations of thousands of people if he couldn’t even keep himself interested?
“Whatever,” he muttered to himself, tossing the notebook to the side. He’d try again later, no point in going into it with a bad attitude, or he’d never get anything done. He went to set the espresso machine to brew, thinking he’d probably feel better after a little more caffeine.
The rest of the morning passed in a slow sort of haze. Jensen only had a couple customers to serve, mostly regulars who grabbed their coffee to-go, so the shop remained blessedly quiet until Misha showed up at ten.
“Hola Mishamigo!” he said cheerily bursting in through the back door. He looked ridiculously happy, and Jensen knew it wasn’t for any particular reason; that was just the kind of guy Misha was. “What number is that?” he asked, nodding at the mug in Jensen’s hands.
“Only four!” he said defensively. “I can quit any time I want.”
“Absolutely. And I once trained an elephant to play piccolo,” Misha replied solemnly.
Jensen hesitated. “…did you?”
Misha laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Not yet. Maybe next Tuesday.”
“You’re such a weirdo, Mish.”
“You have no idea.”
Misha had moved to town about a year after Jensen had and he’d charmed his way into Danni’s heart by asking for a job, and then proceeding to climb over the counter to prove how well he could brew coffee. He’s been a permanent fixture in the coffee shop ever since. He was completely insane, but wildly kindhearted as well, and Jensen had no problem claiming him as one of his closest friends. Chris had been a little unsure about him in the beginning, which was probably more Jensen’s fault than Misha’s, but even the grumpy guitarist had eventually warmed up to him.
“So I made the mistake of mentioning that our fifth anniversary is in March and now Danneel’s freaking out,” Jensen said conversationally.
“Oh, I bet that was a fun conversation,” Misha said, tinkering with the espresso machine, making one of his weird concoctions. “Does she want to do a party?”
Jensen shrugged, leaning back against the counter. “Dunno, but she wants to do something. I was hoping you might have some ideas.”
“If you get me a pony and five pounds of margarine and we’re in business,” Misha said, deadpan. Jensen flicked him with a dishtowel and he yelped, dancing away. “Okay, fine, no pony.”
“We could set up a block party,” Jensen mused out loud. “Kitchy Coffee could host and we could invite other businesses on Main Street to participate. You know Sam and Jim would be in.”
“Probably that new girl, Genevieve, too,” Misha added.
“Who?” Jensen asked, confused.
Misha rolled his eyes. “Are you even aware of the world around you?” he said, but his voice was fond. “She’s the girl who bought the storefront across the street. Renovating it into a bookstore. ‘Bout yeh tall, long dark hair. She’s very sweet.”
“Aww, Mish, d’you have a crush?” Jensen teased.
Misha ducked his head and laughed a little disparagingly. “Hardly. She’s just a nice girl. I bet she’d love to get some publicity, if Danni likes your block party idea.”
“Cool,” Jensen said, grinning. He was suddenly feeling really enthusiastic about this idea. Maybe it would pull him out of this weird funk, or inspire him or something. It could be fun.
When he pulled himself from his musing, Misha was watching him with a small smile on his face. “It’s a good idea, Jensen. I bet she’ll love it.”
Jensen bumped their shoulders together companionably and went to serve the customer who had just appeared at the counter.
Maybe things were looking up.
***
A couple hours later, Jensen was wondering if he needed to reassess that conclusion.
Misha had vanished into the back room to do inventory, leaving Jensen alone at the counter, and despite the briskness of the weather, business seemed content to remain slow. There was no one in the coffee shop, so he figured it would be a good time to get caught up on the dishes.
Less than fifteen minutes after he’d gotten started, elbows deep in hot, sudsy water, the chime above the door played, heralding the arrival of a customer. Jensen hummed along with The Beatles, taking time to finish rinsing the glass he was currently on before grabbing a dish towel and drying his hands.
The first thing Jensen noticed about the guy standing at the counter was that he was HUGE. Jensen was by no means a short man, but this guy towered over him by a good couple inches. Jensen didn’t think he’d ever seen him before around town, and definitely not in the coffee shop. He would’ve remembered this guy.
The guy didn’t seem to realize that Jensen was waiting for his order, staring at the menu overhead with some confusion. Probably just drank black coffee straight from the percolator most of the time.
So Jensen was a little bit of a coffee snob; he was a barista, it was allowed.
“You plannin’ on ordering something?” he asked, after it became apparent the guy wasn’t going to notice him, and the guy looked away from the menu and made eye contact.
Holy shit, but he was attractive. High cheekbones and an aquiline nose, Jensen was pretty sure that this guy was a model. He knew he wasn’t terrible-looking himself, but looking at this guy with the soft hazel eyes kind of made him feel less, somehow.
Of course, the guy immediately ruined it by opening his mouth. Wasn’t that always the way.
“Wow.”
“What?” Jensen asked, raising an eyebrow. The kid-and he was a kid, Jensen could see it now, a few years younger than he was-looked completely thunderstruck, like he’d never seen a barista before.
“You’re just really beautiful, oh my God.”
Jensen blinked, kind of stunned. Sure, he’d heard some weird come-ons in his time, but never anything quite so blatant. It was really frustrating, having people who were only interested in him because of his looks, and having someone verbalize it so openly sent a bolt of annoyance through him.
“So…did you come here for coffee, or just to shout your internal monologue at complete strangers?” he drawled, wanting to just get this guy through the line and gone.
“I-I came for the coffee,” the customer stammered, and Jensen heard a familiar drawl sneak into his voice. “I didn’t expect-” Wow, what a line. Was this dude serious?
“Yeah, because who expects to see a barista behind the counter of a coffee shop?” Jensen shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. He was starting to get good and riled now, Texas dripping from his vowels like it hadn’t in years. The guy’s eyes widened in recognition and if that didn’t just irritate Jensen further.
“What’s your name?”
“Do you have Tourette's?” Jensen said, just being straight-up rude at this point, but the guy couldn’t take a hint, his mouth twisting into a sloppy grin.
“No.”
“Uh huh.” Like Jensen believed that. “Did you want coffee or what?”
Danni appeared before the guy could reply, punching Jensen in the arm with a grin. “You aren’t harassing the customers, are you, Jensen?”
Oh thank God, salvation. “Danni! Perfect timing! I’m supposed to be going on break…and I know how much you like helping first-time customers. I’ll just let you take over here.” Before she could protest, he slipped from between her and the counter and booked it out the back door, barely remembering to grab his leather jacket on his way out. Hopefully Danneel would have better luck with Gigantor.
Misha was standing on the back porch, hands in his pockets, staring placidly out at the sky. Jensen came to stand next to him, agitated, and dug a pack of Marlboros out of his jacket pocket and lit one up, taking a deep calming drag off the cigarette.
“Somebody winding you up, Jackles?” the other barista asked, giving him a probing look.
Jensen barked out a laugh. “Some guy I’ve never seen before started waxing poetic about my face, wouldn’t just give me his damn order.”
“Well you do have a nice face,” Misha pointed out diplomatically. Jensen glared at him and he held up his hands defensively. “I’m just sayin’.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t just say that to complete strangers!” Jensen argued. “It’s weird and I don’t like it.”
Misha smiled. “Yeah, you are a little more reserved then most, aren’t you Ackles.” When Jensen harrumphed at that, he just chuckled a little. “Don’t worry, we like you that way.”
“It just made me feel really uncomfortable,” Jensen confessed and Misha turned his big blue eyes on him.
“Don’t worry,” he said reassuringly. “He was probably just passing through-I bet you’ll never have to see him again.”
Jensen sagged against the porch railing, expelling a deep sigh. “I hope you’re right, man. I hope you’re right.”