Chapter 1: Wherein the Ackles Are Introduced and Jared Is *Not* a Private Detective

[gigglingfics]

The following story takes place in 1934 in New York City. This should not be held against either the city or the year, as they had nothing to do with it.

A Scene In A Bar, Occurring Well Into Happy Hour on December 23

Jared was holding court at the bar, which was not an uncommon occurrence. His pinstripe suit was high end, his hair fashionably long, and his shoes Italian-made, but his accent was pure Texan good ol' boy. It charmed the bartenders and one of the waiters into welcoming him behind the scenes.

Jared turned on the charm to the highest level to take advantage of the opportunity. A great justice had to be set right.

"You don't just shake a cocktail, boys. You gotta shake it with a rhythm. Now if this was a Manhattan, I'd shake it to a Foxtrot. But dry martinis always get shaken to a Charleston."

He poured out the drink with sinful delight into the ready glass and placed it on the waiter's tray. The waiter was a good sort, and he formally presented the item for inspection and approval. Jared greeted the work of art with proper dignity and lifted the proffered vessel. He sniffed the bouquet and then took great care removing the olive from its silver spear. The olive's progression from spear to lips garnered a great deal of interest and attention from the surrounding men.

Ah well. He was locked into a sure thing nowadays, but it was still a thrill to command that attention at will. He downed the dry martini.

He set the glass on the bar and addressed the bartenders. "Now you try mixing one..."

Within moments, Jared was drinking the second martini of the session and the fourth of the evening. With his left hand, he held the glass lightly to his lips, leaving the right free to balance himself away from the bar at his side. He let the gin slide unobstructed down his throat, filling his throat and stomach with a pleasing warmth. He was also aware of how this pose would allow his hair to fall back and leave his throat exposed to admiration for those so inclined. And if the thought curved a smile around the glass, Jared was the only one to know.

As the glass came down, he was forced to focus on a sweet young thing peering up at him from his chest. "Well, hello," he offered.

The face, with its wide set eyes and curving mouth, was framed by dark meticulously set curls under a jaunty hat. The fashionable hound's-tooth dress was just as curvy and curly as the rest of her. The entire package was a sight to be sure, but it didn't ring any bells. Jared approved of her as a general concept, although he wasn't sure about her willingness to become acquainted with his vest.

She smiled a perfect sweet young thing smile at him. "We do know each other, you know."

"Well of course we do, have for years," Jared agreed, never one to argue with a pretty smile.

It earned him a bona fide giggle of delight. "You're Jared Padalecki, aren't you?"

This sobered him slightly. "It's Ackles these days."

"You don't remember me," she said, as if it didn't bother her - a good sign on several counts. "I'm Vanessa Anderson."

The name had a memory attached. "Not that scrawny little bit - "

Jared made a vague motion towards his knees.

"Yes, that's me," Vanessa said.

"Well hello there!" Jared whooped. "How did you ever remember me?"

"Oh you used to fascinate me. A real live detective! You used to tell me the most riveting stories." She looked suddenly thoughtful. "Were they true?"

"Probably not." Jared laughed. He quite approved of the little puppy girl and wondered if she were a stray.

In apparent response to the thought, a slightly annoyed expression attached to a young man appeared, erasing any remaining fears of awkwardness. Jared drew himself up to his full height, and as the young squire's eyes were forced to travel up, the annoyance in them grew deeper.

The young squire's dinner jacket was a fine silk, and his own dark curls were not quite as tame as Vanessa's, but the attempt had been made. All in all, Jared found him a respectable matched set to Vanessa and was willing to approve of him as well.

To make it mutual, Jared turned his gaze towards Vanessa who hadn't noticed their visitor. Jared grinned his best disarming charmer.

"Uh-oh. We're to be broken apart again by fate, darlin'. Or at least an extra wheel."

War was avoided by a sweet young thing smile all for the newcomer. It melted away any traces of a scowl, and brought peace on earth and goodwill to Jared Ackles. Jared decided to celebrate with another round.

"Two more glasses, fellas!" he called.

"Zac," Vanessa was saying. "This is Jared Padalecki. Jared, this is Zac Efron, my fiancé."

The new allies shook on it while she continued. "Jared worked once on a case for my father."

"It's Ackles these days. But yes, I did. Yeah, some nut wanted to kill him." Jared silently toasted the world's insanity. "Say, how is your father anyway? Still the absent minded, mad scientist?"

Zac's face was noncommittal. Good man, even if he was young.

"That's actually why I came over," Vanessa said. "He's disappeared."

"Disap -"

"Don't say it like that, darling," Zac said, giving her a quick squeeze to take the sting out. "He's away somewhere working," he explained to Jared.

"Well I can't find him," Vanessa grudgingly clarified. She turned puppy eyes to Jared. "I was hoping you might have heard."

"I haven't heard anything," Jared had to admit while resisting the urge to scratch behind her ears in apology. "I've been in California for the past four years. Have you tried the lawyer? Some bird by the name of..."

"Ben Edlund. I've tried him once."

Jared looked at her. "Why don't you try him twice?"

She looked at Zac who produced the nickel for the phone without a word. He's going to make her a fine wife, Jared thought.

To prove it, as she left, Zac confided, "You know, she's got me worrying now too."

"Mustn't worry," Jared admonished while passing another Charleston shaken martini to him. "Her old man's a great guy, but - "

He tapped his forehead. "Screwy."

"ICARUS!" a deep voice cried out from the entrance. Jared couldn't stop the grin.

"Speaking of screwy."

A large stack of gift-wrapped boxes was careening into the hotel bar. Jared could make out occasional words about dogs and health and codes. The voices drew closer.

"Sir! You absolutely cannot take the dog in here."

"I'm not taking him. He's taking me!" the boxes exclaimed before gravity won the battle. The entire show crashed to the ground, and a small white dog made its way calmly from the ruins to Jared.

He picked up the dog and watched as Jensen Ackles untangled himself from the pile up on the floor. Jensen's own Italian suit and shoes matched Jared's, and with a minimum of effort, the outfit was restored to its impeccable natural condition. Within moments the only sign of chaos to be found in Jensen's appearance was a slightly crooked tie, a flushed face and slightly mussed hair.

The flush brought out the freckles along his nose and made his green eyes bright. It also brought a fullness to his mouth, which in addition to the hair, created a picture that took Jared's breath away slightly.

As if he sensed the scrutiny, Jensen straightened his tie and retrieved his hat before looking around for the dog. He didn't attempt to help the hotel staff that had gone down with the boxes. "Sorry, men. Love and war."

"I think the other side's winning," Jared called out.

Jensen looked across the bar and focused on him. "Oh, it's you he's after."

His eyes took in his husband and the drinks, and his mouth twisted. "I should have guessed."

Jensen made his way to him, and Jared leaned in for a kiss on the nose, as it didn't seem to be as annoyed as the mouth. "Hello, sugar."

Jensen gave him a stink eye. "He's had me in every gin mill on the block."

The unspoken accusation required a response, and there was no denying it looked bad. An apologetic grimace and a simple disclosure would have to suffice. "I may have had him out this morning."

Jensen's eyes approved of neither being up in the morning nor visiting the locals without him. Diversionary tactics were called for.

"Zac. Meet the wife. Jensen, this is Zac."

Jensen smiled approvingly and shook hands with Zac as he corrected Jared. "No, you're my wife. You took my name, remember?"

Jensen remembered his momma's manners enough to apologize to Zac for the chaos. Apparently, he'd been Christmas shopping. Jared looked to the reformed tower of boxes.

"And how," he observed.

The boxes and the hotel staff supporting them came to them. The maitre d appeared from that netherworld all maitre ds exist in until they are needed and held Jensen's elbow.

"I am sorry, sir. We will have to remove the dog."

Jared firmed up his hold on the dog in question. "It's okay, Hank. It's my dog. And my husband."

Jensen looked insulted. "You might have mentioned me first in that billing."

The maitre d was similarly unimpressed. "He might bite someone!"

"Oh, no," Jared assured the man. "They're both well trained and Jensen's up to date with his shots anyway."

Vanessa returned as the maitre d was persuaded that Icarus was a paragon of dog virtue. While Icarus stood when commanded to sit, Vanessa told Zac the lawyer was apparently only a block away with news. What kind of news, she couldn't say. Jared hastily made Jensen acquainted with Vanessa as the maitre d asked Icarus to speak, prompting him to sit.

Zac proved himself a paragon by distracting the maitre d with loud, smiling requests for his coat as he and Vanessa would have to take their leave now. Vanessa immediately agreed in a loud and vigorous manner, spinning the man away from the table Icarus was currently under. The maitre d, having decided it wasn't his place to overrule such experts in dog behavior, left to get the coats.

The victory was celebrated with smiles and winks. Vanessa was sorry she and Zac would have to take their leave now, although she was terribly pleased to meet Jensen, and wouldn't have ever dreamt it would be a man to take Jared off the market. It was all agreed that the Ackles family were staying at the Astor and a visit was the loveliest thing any of them could dream of.

The Ackles took their seats at Icarus' table and the very good waiter, Lou, was on the way with more Charleston shaken gin martinis. Jared found himself full of Christmas spirit.

"Pretty girl," Jensen observed dangerously with a smile.

Jared knew the way across this minefield. "Yes, she's a very nice type."

"You got types?"

"Only you, darlin'. Rich, broad freckled shoulders and a wicked mouth."

"Mmm. Who is she?"

"She's Vanessa. Really, darlin', you must try to pay better attention."

Jensen wasn't bad at navigating the battlefield either. "I must have been distracted by her lovely fiancé. His name is Zac, and judging from his artfully mussed hair, he's apparently an energetic dancer."

"Is he, now?" Jared asked, with a lifted eyebrow.

"Yes, it brought a flush to those elfin cheekbones. See? My memory's fine. Now, how are you acquainted with Vanessa?"

Jensen still didn't seem quite entertained enough, so Jared sought to remedy it. "Oh, I was hoping I wouldn't have to answer that."

Jensen's lips twitched. Trust of that sort had never been an issue in their relationship. Jensen's family could whisper all day and night about bisexuals and the temptation of women. Neither man ever looked back.

"A piece of your sordid past, is it?" Jensen's own Christmas spirit was willing to hear a story.

"Yes. Vanessa is really my daughter," Jared leaned his chin on his hand to better reminisce by. Jensen copied the movement. "You see, it was spring in Venice. I was so young. I didn't know what I was doing."

Jensen had his chin perched on both hands now. His eyes were kind and full of sympathy, but his mouth was twitching with a hint of devilment. It was why Jared had to marry that mouth, although the package it came with was worth the price of admission as well.

"We're all like that on my father's side," Jared observed mournfully.

"By the way, how is your father's side?"

"Much better. Yours?"

The smile that lit Jared's life finally broke through. Jensen asked, "So who is she, really?"

"Daughter of a client I used to bounce on my knee. Sam Anderson - some fella wanted to bump him off over a smelting process of all the things. Her old man was the original absent minded professor and misplaced his marriage. His secretary found it for him if I remember."

"The secretary, huh? How urbane."

"Yeah, well, she had experience, having lost her own marriage. I felt bad for Anderson's kids."

"Not Anderson's wife?"

"The wife? A viper named ... Mimi? I think. But nah, don't feel bad for her. She'd shed her skin and go and find another warm body to -" Jared demonstrated the ability of such vipers to twist around and smother a man through liberal use of his arm and with the aid of the vase in the center of the table. Jensen's laugh stopped him.

"Say, how many drinks have you had?"

On cue, a drink appeared to be counted. Jared obliged. "This will be six... no, seven martinis."

"Alright," Jensen looked to Lou. "Please bring me six more martinis. Line them right up here."

"Yes, sir," said the waiter without batting an eye. Jared batted two to make up for it.

While waiting for his own martinis to appear, Jensen helped himself to Jared's olive. He used his left thumb and index finger to hold the spear and his teeth to hold the olive. With great deliberation, Jensen's tongue slowly worked its way around the olive. Tilting his head back slightly, he succeed in removing it and swallowed it down. Jared watched it work its way down his throat while his own throat gulped in sympathy. Jensen's mouth grinned wickedly at him.

"God bless us, everyone," Jared quoted sincerely.

A Painful Scene to Emphasize the Perils of Too Much Drink, Occurring on Christmas Eve Morning, Well, Early in the Day

Tools were needed in Jared's third attempt to awaken Jensen from his slumbers. The first campaign had been an exercise in futility, Jensen having ignored the slight shaking by beginning to snore. Jared's second campaign had enlisted reinforcements who had shamelessly defected to Jensen's side. Icarus had burrowed sleepily into the crook of Jensen's arms, and the picture of domestic bliss they presented was enough to burst Jared's heart. He would be more than willing to express his appreciation if Jensen would ever consent to rising.

And so, tools of the trade were to be employed. An ice pack was laid softly on Jensen's head and held gently in place. Jared held the seltzer close to Jensen's ear, and placed butterfly kisses on Jensen's brow. Third time indeed being the charm, Jensen showed signs of life at last. He thrashed with a groan and made feeble, disjointed efforts to hold the ice pack. His eyes fluttered open and peered at Jared, who had avoided the thrashing from experience, and frowned.

Jared moved the seltzer into the line of sight, and Jensen eyed it for a moment before endeavoring to take it. The attempt at hand-eye coordination failed and Jared rapidly stopped the glass from spilling onto his husband. Jensen moaned softly but allowed Jared to help him sit up and sip at the seltzer.

Jared took the opportunity to pile all the pillows into the middle so when Jensen fell back, he was reclined against Jared's chest. Now able to hold the ice pack and the seltzer on his own, Jensen dubiously attempted speech before coffee.

"What hit me?"

"That last martini."

Jensen awkwardly attempted to look at Jared and succeeded in sliding his head from Jared's chest to his shoulder. From this close vantage point, he studied Jared in a slightly cross-eyed manner that Jared found endearing. Jensen frowned critically at Jared's cleanly shaved face and glanced down at his fully clothed form.

"Seems to have missed you. Why would it pick on me? What have I ever done to the martinis of the world?"

Jared placed a soft kiss on his temple to convince the evident pounding to stop. Jensen indicated the treatment warranted further attempts, so Jared obliged while responding.

"Well you see, I didn't attempt to take on the whole platoon at once," Jared whispered into his brow. "You need to take out martinis one by one, darlin'."

Jared's offer to get up was countered with an offer to wake up but stay in bed, a bargain Jared was eager to accept when the door buzzer sounded. Jensen moaned in an unpleasant manner and moved the ice pack to cover his face. Jared went to murder the intruder.

Although better off than his seltzer-reliant spouse, Jared's reflexes were slowed from the previous evenings festivities. Jared opened the door slowly, leaning on it for support, but found himself faced with an empty hall. Hearing a noise behind him, he turned and scanned the wall to the bar.

At some point, the Astor's excellent staff had restocked the sideboard with the makings of cocktails. Jared headed along the long wall. To his right, the well-appointed living area had a low backed sofa and a chaise facing each other in a conversation setting. The brick fireplace on the opposite long wall had some embers still glowing.

Ben "Mac" Edlund, the attorney Jared had just been speaking of the night before, was poking the embers. His hat had been discarded on the chaise, and he was speaking to Jared. After a moment, Jared realized he had just let the man in and began to pay attention to what he was saying.

" - so I thought I'd come over myself and ask what Dawn's up to."

Jared blinked and went to the bar for some hair of the dog. "Hi, Mac. How's tricks?"

Mac stared at him for a moment, allowing Jared to stare back. Ben Edlund did not look or act like any other lawyer in Jared's acquaintance. Although his suits were always consistent with an attorney, Edlund wore a goatee and longer hair. He also insisted on being called Mac, and if Jared ever knew why, he'd since forgotten. Mac's eccentricity used to attract an accordingly singular clientele back in Jared's PI days. It had been eight years since Jared had seen him last, and he hadn't changed much.

Mac's own internal reminisce ended with an apparent recollection of the preferred method of morning communication. He smiled tersely and said in a manner suggesting he was repeating himself, "Sorry to barge in, Padalecki."

Jared waved the courtesy away. "No bother. And if you call me Ackles, it might get you a drink."

Mac blinked at him. "Oh, that's right. I'd heard someone caught you. But, no, I'm not drinking."

"Well that's a mistake," Jared assured him. "I certainly am. Have a seat, Mac. What's on your mind?"

"When Vanessa told me you were town, I thought I'd come ask. What's Dawn up to? That's what I need to know." Mac took a seat on the chaise.

"Dawn?" Jared asked, struggling to place the name.

Mac had resigned himself to speaking slowly. "Dawn Ostroff," he prodded, then tried again at Jared's look of uncertainty. "Dawn Anderson? Vanessa's mother? Sam's wife?"

"Oh! You mean Mimi!" Jared realized as he finished making his drink and settled on the sofa across from Mac.

Mac sighed with a smile. "Yes. Dawn "Call Me Mimi" Ostroff. What's she up to?"

Jared swung his leg onto the sofa to change positions. The old detective's habit of positioning himself to see the man's body language, while also watching the door, made a surprise return. He also found himself blocking Mac's approach to the bedroom behind him. Rather than question it, Jared ignored the tendency, took a sip of his drink, and countered, "I haven't seen Mimi in years. Why? Does she have to be up to something?"

"She usually is. Trying one way or another to get money out of Sam." The lawyer looked sheepish. Mac's biggest problem had always been that his conscious was bigger than his profession should allow. "I was wondering if you were... well, sleuthing for her."

No offense was meant or taken, and Jared shook his head. "I haven't been in the business or the know for years, I'm afraid. Jensen's father died and left him a railway, lumber mill and god knows what else. I've gone respectable to watch after them."

And then, because curiosity got the better of him, he added, "What's all the fuss about Anderson about? Did he go into hiding?"

Mac shrugged and looked relieved that Jared wasn't involved, which seemed suspicious or insulting. Mac didn't seem the type to insult people.

"You know as much about it as I do," Mac said. "I haven't seen him in three months."

"Three - no word at all?"

"Only through his new wife, Leighton. He sends word through her that he needs money. I give it to her, she gives it to him."

Jared's eyebrows raised at the arrangement. "Leighton? The secretary? That's still an active line of pursuit, huh?"

The phone rang. Jared got to it on the first ring, but Jensen's voice still answered from the bedroom. "Hello? Oh. Just a minute."

Jared handed the phone over to Mac. "It's for you."

Jensen came out of the bedroom with a robe casually on and the ice pack tied to his head. "Is there a - "

Mac was speaking on the phone with his back to them. Jared went to his husband and quietly attempted to straighten the robe. His efforts removed more of the robe and were subsequently rebuffed. The associated glare was diminished by the ice bag precariously tied to Jensen's noggin. Jared allowed himself to be entertained by the fact that the cold pack made them the same height.

He pointed to Jensen's chest, and when Jensen looked down, the headpiece overbalanced. Jared chuckled at his own cleverness and thus failed to see Jensen swinging a hand up to smack the back of his head in time to duck. An unfair tickle to the ribs was being answered in kind when Mac cleared his throat to indicate he could, in fact, see their antics quite clearly.

"Oh, pardon me," Jensen said with an amazing composure. "Hello."

"Mac, this is my husband, Jensen. Jensen, this is Mac, the attorney for young Vanessa's family."

Jensen nodded carefully in understanding. "The sweet little girl with her pretty fiancé from last night. I remember. How do you do?"

"Pleased to meet you, Mr Padalecki, my belated congratulations. Jared, I have to get going. Anderson's back in town!"

Jensen seemed willing to become a Padalecki for good news. "Vanessa's missing father? Is he?"

"Yes, he's waiting for me now."

And with hurried goodbyes and Merry Christmases all around, Mac was out the door.

Jensen moved around the end table between the sofa and chaise to the tree next to the balcony doors. The tree had been provided by the Astor for the holiday, and Jensen was determined to trim it for the party they were hosting that night. Jared left him to it and telephoned Vanessa to share the news about her father.

Vanessa's mother, the aforementioned viper and up-to-something -Mimi-, answered the call at the other end. After several assurances that Vanessa was out at the moment but that any information could be given to Mimi, Vanessa was given the phone. She was delighted to hear her father was alive and well, and Jared was delighted to give it to her. More Christmas wishes were bestowed, and Jared rang off.

Seeing that Jensen had just unpacked the mistletoe, Jared hurried to help.