Is That A Sword In Your Pocket? [J2 / 14K / ADULT]
Title: Is That A Sword In Your Pocket? [And Other Lame Jokes]
Starring: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki. Special appearances by Eliot Spencer [Christian Kane] and Alec Hardison [Aldis Hodge].
Rating/Warnings: Adult. AU. A lot of swearing.
Word Count: approx. 14,500
Summary: Jensen wants justice. Eliot wants a beer and a stripper, in that order. Alec wants people to stop breaking his shit. Jared...well, Jared just wants a job. Written for j2_everafter based on the movie The Three Musketeers. I don't know who I should apologize to first, Walt Disney or Alexandre Dumas.
It's only when Jared Padalecki's well down Interstate 5, Los Angeles almost in reach, that he lets up on the gas pedal and feels his heart stop racing. There's no sign of the sleek silver Lexus following him, lost in a high speed game of cat and mouse out of Santa Cruz that thankfully hadn't attracted police attention. Relieved, Jared eases into heavier traffic, the bustle of L.A. surrounding him.
Giddiness overtakes him and Jared can’t help laughing. It's been a ridiculous morning; Chad red-faced and blustering as he tried to kick Jared's ass over his sister's "honor". Jared laughs harder remembering the unmanly squeals the blonde man made when Jared repeatedly knocked him to the pavement. All good and rousing fun until Chad's older brothers drove onto the scene, forcing Jared's hasty exit and escape down California highways.
Jared turns up the volume on his old Jeep's stereo, blasting Andrew McMahon's piano rock vocals into the bright California morning. Picturing the look on Chad's face when he'd peeled out of the parking lot, yelling a rude comment about his sister just for kicks, makes Jared smile even wider. He wonders how the squirrely Murray boy would have reacted if Jared had shouted his regard for Chad's youngest brother. Oh, that would have been priceless.
After all, when the lithe eighteen year old boy asked Jared to teach him how to kiss, what was he supposed to say? No?
Now, passing exits leading to the city he's always wanted to live in, Jared can only imagine what the rest of the day holds for him. Coming here is the fulfillment of his father's dream - Jared's dream too. It's a little silly, but he can almost feel his Dad riding with him, chuckling as Jared cuts through traffic to get off the highway, guiding him to downtown Los Angeles where a new job waits.
Jensen stops on the sidewalk, catching the breaking news through a store window. People pass, oblivious, as he's riveted by the news he knew was coming.
Los Angeles Mayor Alan King Arrested for Corruption.
With Timothy Richelieu, the ruthless and underhanded politician, back in town, it was only a matter of time until he tried to bring King down and went after everyone still loyal to the Mayor.
Jensen thought they'd have more time.
He'd skipped the meeting this morning at his precinct, knowing his connection to Alan King wouldn't go unpunished by Richelieu's cronies. Hell, he expected more than a few members of his department were dirty - Jensen would be muscled out in no time despite the years he's given to the force.
The anchor repeats the news that will shock citizens of Los Angeles. Jensen catches new information from the scrolling headlines - Mayor King's home and office had been searched for evidence the night before.
Knowing he's probably lost his job, Jensen sends two quick text messages as he walks away from the window. He might be alone now, but he's pretty sure he that won't last.
An hour later Jensen's crouched in the foyer of Alan King's city penthouse having slipped by the police guards easily. Timothy Richelieu might have a lot of cops in his pocket, but no one said they were the smartest. The debris around him makes it clear Richelieu's thugs were thorough and unnecessarily destructive in their search. What could be upturned and emptied was, other furniture smashed and kicked apart, no thought for order and efficiency here. There's nothing left for Jensen to salvage.
"Let the fuckin' bastards have it," he mutters to the empty room. Jensen can find another way; he'll have help.
"What the hell?"
Jensen goes for his gun in a split second, pulling and drawing in a motion honed by repetition and necessity. He's almost impressed when the owner of the young, strong voice barely flinches as the .45-caliber pistol is aimed at him.
"Who the hell are you?"
The guy stammers a bit, cocked gun stealing some of his bravado. "What the fuck happened here?"
"Name, now."
"Jared...I, uh - I was supposed to meet with Mayor King today. He...he said he'd meet me here - shit, did he get robbed?"
He edges away from Jensen, eyes darting wildly but always returning to the gun in Jensen's unwavering grip. Jensen takes the chance to size up the tall kid. Based on his stance, Jensen guesses he's not carrying. He's wearing a slightly rumpled dress shirt and dark jeans, sunglasses pushing back thick, wavy brown hair. For a split second Jensen thinks he's face to face with young Hollywood, but he's never seen this kid before in his life.
He doesn't have time to appreciate the view, no matter how enticing. He holsters his weapon. "No, Alan King wasn't robbed. Now get out of here."
Jensen's planning on doing the same; he’s ready to meet up with the 'help' and figure out what the fuck is going on.
"I was supposed to have an interview with Mayor King, maybe get a job." Jensen doesn't actually care, this idiot can stand here as long as he wants, probably get arrested when Richelieu's hired faithful inevitably come back.
"I don't give a shit. I'm leaving," Jensen tries to stalk out, eager to leave. "Feel free to poke around for souvenirs."
A large hand on his chest stops him at the doorway, heat spreading and adding to the fire burning in his stomach.
"Well where the hell is he?"
"Go watch the news." He's close enough to see gold flecks in the younger man's rich hazel eyes, and Jensen doesn't back away.
"Was that supposed to be helpful?"
"Excuse me?" He can hear the dangerous edge to his own voice. If this kid's smart, he'll hightail it without another word.
"I need to see Alan King."
Heard that the first time, Jensen scoffs silently.
The boy's eyes narrow but they're hardly menacing. His voice gets slower, more deliberate. "I would appreciate your help."
Rather than being pacified, Jensen wants to laugh. Or, you know, punch the kid. His mouth twists in an intimidating smile, one that's always told bad guys they're in for the worst ride of their lives. Jensen's getting desperate for an outlet to vent his frustration. Fighting or fucking - it's all the same. With the speculative look the boy's giving him, he's not sure what he'd prefer.
"Get lost, kid."
Jared's eyes flash and Jensen's a little fascinated. "Don't fuckin' call me kid!"
"Listen, you walked into something bigger than your damn interview, so either get lost or let me leave." There are only inches between them but the young man steps closer into Jensen's space. "I don't give a shit why you came here, pretty boy, this place was ripped apart for a reason. I think the Mayor's got bigger things to deal with than your unemployment."
Jensen smacks Jared's hand away from his chest and pushes past him.
"Hey!"
Jensen spins fast, catching the young man off guard and he reels back.
"Clearly, you need a lesson in manners, boy," Jensen knows he hitting a sore spot, but he wants to ruffle Jared's feathers. He waits for his meaning to become clear and he's surprised with the confident, whispered response.
"Anytime."
A fight it is. Jensen won’t admit his slight disappointment.
"Warehouse 81, down at the Port of L.A., at two o'clock," he grates, sees Jared swallow and his eyes catch momentarily on the movement of his Adam's apple. "Think you can manage that?"
"I'll be there."
"I'll be waiting, kid."
Turning on his heel, Jensen strides out of the penthouse quickly and catches the elevator without looking back. Once inside the steel box and on his way down, he sighs and shakes off the encounter, sure that kid's going to be in police custody long before he makes it to the abandoned warehouse.
He leans his head back against the gleaming metal wall and sighs. It's barely noon and he already needs a drink.
Jared's beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, coming to Los Angeles was a really shitty idea. Never in a million years could he have imagined a day like this.
First the narrow, yet crafty escape from Chad's moronic brothers, followed by walking into Alan King's penthouse office and having a gun drawn on him by a stranger with vibrant and angry green eyes. Then another escape from the Murray family, the members of which apparently were smart enough to track him to the city. Who knew?
Oh, did he mention the fights?
The circumstances of the first stir Jared's blood thanks to the fierce gaze and gorgeous face of the man from the penthouse. A cop, Jared would bet, from the familiar way he drew his gun and his holster-heavy stride. Yeah, he hadn't found out anything useful from the guy until he pulled up today’s headlines on his iPhone, but not a total loss. Jared's already looking forward to their next meeting.
Until he ran into a black man as tall as he was. It wasn't Jared's fault that this jerk was large enough to block Jared's escape path through a sidewalk cafe. He didn't have to make such a big and obnoxious deal of the fact that Jared supposedly made him drop his laptop. Drama queen. The guy had looked ready to throw down on him right there in public. He'd narrowly escaped, shoving a hapless waitress towards the guy and making a run for it all while hearing the guy's threats to "seriously fuck with his life" following him.
He couldn't make this stuff up. Resigned to the fact that now two people in L.A., plus Chad's brothers, all wanted him dead, Jared went on his way. He was minding his own business when a man dropped out of the sky. Literally.
Los Angeles sucked.
Like it was the natural reaction to any bad situation, the ornery long-haired cowboy who'd landed on Jared decided to pick a fight. Jared, still annoyed at being crushed, felt entitled to his bad mood but the cowboy didn't take well to Jared's sarcasm. Five minutes later, Jared found himself flat on his back with an aching jaw, listening to yet another crudely worded threat.
Really, it was ridiculous. Why did everyone want to kick his ass? His mom always told him what a nice boy he'd grown up to be, and he believed her. Everyone loved Jared back in Santa Cruz. Except Chad, of course, but he had a good reason. A really good reason if he ever bothered to talk to his younger brother.
Jared's only got a little time before he needs to be at the warehouse. He could easily blow it off, get lost in the city and never see the handsome cop again, but he'll show up. He feels listless, no idea what to do now that Alan King's been arrested and his chances blown to hell. The meeting gives him focus, even though he could walk away from it with a black eye or worse.
He doesn't believe the news feeds for a second. Alan King, corrupt? Not in Jared's world; Gerald Padalecki always said Alan was a good man, honest and fair, and Jared's father was never wrong. Something's going on and Jared refuses to slink back to Santa Cruz without finding out more. And his green-eyed stranger is going to provide the first clue.
Now, if he could only remember where he parked his Jeep.
They're in a back alley dive, Jensen drinking half his beer in one swallow. Eliot's brooding on the next bar stool, cracking his knuckles - an agitated grinding of bone on bone that makes Jensen's spine tense in sympathy.
And Alec won't shut up.
"And then the lanky dude just danced away like my baby's insides weren't decorating the sidewalk."
"Jesus, Hardison, shut up." Eliot grumbles into his beer. "It's just a laptop."
Saul, the aging bartender, is used to their banter and grumbling, ignoring them in favor of staring off into space.
Alec clicks another plastic panel from the mess in front of him into place. "Just a...aw hell no, you did not just say that. Just a laptop, my ass."
"Least you weren't injured. I had to jump down from a fire escape to get away from one of Richelieu's thugs."
"He broke my laptop. I don't see you missin' any pieces."
"Yeah well, I would have if that dumb bastard hadn't broken my fall."
Jensen laughs, looking past Eliot to Alec's scowling face. "Don't you have like five laptops?"
"Six, but this one's special."
"Right," Eliot mutters.
Alec goes back to pouting and mumbling. "Don't know why I'm talking to you anyway. Probably can't even work a box."
"Hey!"
It feels good to laugh with these guys - Jensen's brothers. Jensen Ackles, Alec Hardison, and Eliot Spencer -the Three Amigos, the Musketeers, whatever you want to call them. Alan King had called them all 'dumb idiots' when they started out as young cops under the ambitious police captain. They'd grown up in the force, sharing stories, patching wounds, and drinking together to forget the hardest days. Eventually they went their separate ways - Jensen became a homicide detective, Eliot went to work in high-profile security, and Alec turned computer forensics into a specialized career - but they remained friends. Always brothers.
All three of them owed their successes to Alan King. And all three knew they'd be at the top of Timothy Richelieu's list to be eliminated.
"Man, I don't get it."
"What's to get?" Eliot says, low and apathetic. "Richelieu made his move and we couldn't stop it."
"Didn't know enough to stop him," Jensen adds. "What's his endgame though?"
"He always hated Alan," Alec recalls. "Plus, a man in Richelieu's position would be a good replacement if the Mayor was brought down."
"Thought his ambitions were larger," Eliot muses. "That scumbag's always thought big."
Alec fits another piece of his laptop back in its place. "It's out of our hands now. I say we ditch this city before Richelieu comes after us, 'cause you know he's gonna."
"Run like cowards?" Alec's suggestion clearly doesn't sit well with Eliot, even if it might be their only option. Still, it doesn't feel right to Jensen either. Besides...
Jensen clears his throat. "If you two want to get out, find somewhere to lay low for a while, I'll meet up with you."
"Wait, what the hell will you be doing?"
"I kind of have a thing."
Eliot glares. "Kind of?"
"A thing?" Alec finishes. "What's that sound like to you, Eliot?"
"Sound like some bullshit to me, Hardison."
"Feel like telling us why you want to risk your ass stayin' here?"
Jensen leaves out the details. "I have to meet someone in an hour down at the Port, settle some business."
Eliot pushes his long hair back out of his face. "Right, Jen. That wasn't vague. At all."
The guys won't let it go and Jensen shakes his head. "I met this kid over at King's penthouse." Just calling Jared 'kid' sends his mind back to the fiery look on the young man's face.
"A kid?"
"A guy. We got into it and he was in my face. I threatened to lay him out and he didn't back down."
"What the hell was he doing at Alan's?" Alec questions with a raised eyebrow, starting on his second bottle of beer.
Jensen shrugs, playing the confrontation over in his head. He can picture Jared - feel his hand, smell his confidence - and it stirs something uncomfortable deep within him.
"I'm supposed to meet him down by the Port at two. He probably won't even show up."
He's got to be giving something away in his face, or Alec and Eliot know him too well, since they're both smirking. Jensen huffs and averts his eyes.
"Can we get back to our bigger problem?"
"Sure you don't want a few minutes to reminisce?" Alec enunciates, smirking.
"Well Jenny, sounds like we need to meet this kid."
"Maybe we should go with you." Jensen wants to smack the smile off Eliot's face. "You know, backup."
"Y'all suck," Jensen drawls, annoyed and flushed. "Alan? Richelieu? Our asses on the line? Any of this ringing a bell?"
Thankfully his friends stay quiet and Jensen sighs. He starts again. "So we know Richelieu had to provide evidence somehow. There's gotta be a source and a trail."
"He's got dirty cops and lawyers from here to San Diego," Alec adds. "But there had to be someone close to Alan to feed information and plant evidence."
"A needle in a haystack of payoffs and blackmail." Eliot's shaking his head. "And we know that he'll be coming after us if he can track us down."
"Which makes me wonder why we're still sitting here instead of runnin' off to Mexico!"
"A little late for that, don't you think?"
The cold, dry voice silences the three of them. Jensen shifts on the bar stool and locks eyes with Michael Rochefort, lips twisting into a sneer at the sight of his old partner and his two leather-jacketed goons.
"Mike, you dirty piece of shit."
"Nice to see you too, Ackles," Rochefort rasps, despicable smile turned on the three men. Saul quickly shuffles away, leaving a three-on-three stare-down.
"Get the fuck out of here, Rochefort."
The former detective's laugh makes Jensen's skin crawl. Rochefort is neck deep in Timothy Richelieu's scheming - has been since before he and Jensen were teamed up in the L.A.P.D.. Showing up here is a bad sign for the three friends.
His smile twists dangerously. "But we just got here, how about a drink for old times?"
"How 'bout I knock you and your moron friends through that window?" Eliot growls, already off the barstool and bristling.
“Still just a pumped up dick, Eliot? That’s a shame.” Rochefort grins when the goons behind him laugh. “Fine, I’ll get right down to business then. Jensen, I’m sorry to say you’ve been suspended from your department, pending relocation. Canada’s nice this time of year, I hear.”
It’s no surprise to Jensen, but it still hurts, knowing that these corrupt men have such influence.
“Why don’t the three of you come with us, lay low for a while until all of this blows over? You can stay out of trouble and we won’t have any problems.”
Alec snorts. “Like that’s gonna happen.”
Mike smiles as if the response is what he expected. “Then I guess I have no choice but to make sure you won’t interfere -“
Whatever threat Rochefort’s about to make is cut off as Eliot grabs the nearest liquor bottle and tosses it at the hostile trio. It distracts them enough for Alec and Jensen to stand and start throwing punches. Eliot jumps into the fray swinging and cursing. Good old Saul, smart enough to know when trouble can’t be avoided, stays out of sight until the hits cease and all he hears are groans of pain.
Jared curses traffic as he drives out of downtown, knowing he'll be late. He doesn't know why he's so irritated - there's a good possibility he completely misread the cop and he's about the get the crap knocked out of him. But the thought of his stranger still sends a thrill racing into his blood. Part of him wants answers and part just wants. Jared's not too comfortable analyzing that so he doesn't, focusing on finding the damn warehouse.
The green eyed man is outside waiting when he pulls up, leaning casually against a concrete wall and looking for all the world as if he and Jared are about to have a pleasant conversation. Light smoke from the man's cigarette curls around his chiseled features and sunlight catches the soft spikes of his hair.
He looks the same as before. Worn leather jacket drapes over broad shoulders, covering strong arms. A black shirt paired with dark denim jeans. Sun glints off the small silver cross in the dip of the man's throat, drawing Jared's eyes back up. The only things missing are the gun and the fierce anger.
"You're late." His voice is just as rough and intense as before, striking Jared as wrong coming from such a soft, plush mouth.
"In a hurry to eat pavement or something?" Jared pushes as much bravado into the remark as he can. He might have a few inches and twenty pounds on this cop but that means nothing to an experienced fighter. He's felt the strength in this guy's chest, in his arms.
Jared's glad to see the smirk pulling at the other man's lips; they have no real quarrel, but a fight's a fight and neither man is going to back down.
The cop steps close, nearly sliding into Jared's space and he doesn't mind the intrusion. The other man laughs softly, mockingly, and Jared wants to push him back into that wall.
"You know, we could drop this act," Jared suggests, steadying his voice and praying that he's not wrong. "Forget fighting, I don't want to have to kick your ass."
If possible, the cop moves even closer and his eyes track up and down Jared's chest. "Really? What do you want?"
Jared's mind provides plenty of helpful suggestions, some in very vivid detail, and none of which he can mention out loud.
"Answers," he finally manages. "I want some god damn answers. What happened to Alan King? Why did you point a gun at my head? Who the hell are you?"
"You first."
Fair enough, Jared thinks, as long as he gets his answers. "I told you, my name's Jared Padalecki."
A strange look crosses the other man's face at his last name, almost recognition, but Jared doesn't comment. "I was supposed to meet Mayor King to talk about a job. He was friends with my father..."
"Was?"
"Yeah," he murmurs. "My Dad passed away."
The cop nods, his expression still hard and focused, and finally extends his right arm, taking Jared's offered hand in a firm grip. "Jensen Ackles, detective with the L.A.P.D.. I worked for Alan King when he was a police captain."
"And now?"
"Now, like you, I'm trying to figure out what's going on," Jensen grates out, sounding as frustrated as Jared feels.
Jared's sure that Jensen knows a lot more than he does and a question's on the tip of his tongue when another voice calls out from behind him.
"Yo, Jenny, sorry we're late!"
Jared spins and comes face to face with the last two people he wants to see. He barely has time to hear “oh hell no” before he’s ducking one punch and stepping backwards to avoid another. Forced against a wall by the two men who’d ruined his morning, Jared’s grateful and surprised when Jensen steps in front of him.
“What the hell, guys?”
“That’s the guy!” The tall black man’s yelling. “The lanky dude!”
“The bastard I fell on,” the long haired one drawls.
Jensen looks at Jared over his shoulder, humor brightening his eyes. “Not having a banner day, are you?”
The dark skinned guy raises an eyebrow and looks from Jensen to Jared. “This is the kid you were supposed to fight?”
Jensen nods, broad back still blocking Jared from the shorter man. “Yeah, about that…I think there’s been a change of plans.”
“Come on, Jenny,” the cowboy interrupts, stepping closer. “Let me kick his ass if you’re not gonna do it.”
“Kick my ass?” Jared defends. “You punched me after you landed on me!”
“Hey!” Jensen lays a hand on the cowboy’s chest and pushes him away. “No ass kicking, we have bigger things to deal with. Guys, this is Jared Padalecki.”
“Wait, Gerald’s kid?”
“You knew my Dad?” Jared turns sharp eyes on the cowboy but he doesn’t get an answer as Jensen introduces his friends.
“Eliot Spencer,” he motions to the shorter man who still isn’t thrilled with Jared’s presence. “And that’s Alec Hardison.”
“Jen, if you guys aren’t gonna throw down, maybe we should be thinkin’ about that Mexico thing. A little TJ, you know? ‘Stead of staying here and getting killed when Mike regains consciousness?”
“Killed?” Jared steps around Jensen.
“Look, kid, this ain’t your business,” Eliot sighs before Jensen can start explaining.
“Don’t call me k-“
“Jared, hey,” Jensen turns to him. “These guys are right. I need to get out of here. You need to-“
Jensen’s cut off by the screeching of tires as a large black Escalade appears and stops. In a split second Jensen and Eliot’s postures shift - weight balancing and ready. Jared’s confused but when five men jump out of the s.u.v. and Alec groans, he knows this isn’t good.
“Twice in one day?” Alec’s muttering while Jensen and Eliot track the approaching group. “We’ve got to find new places to hang out, y’all.”
“Don’t suppose you boys came here for the scenery?” Jensen shouts, mouth twisted in a grimace.
The five thugs they’re faced with don’t bother responding but the largest pulls a police baton from his coat and suddenly all hell breaks loose. Jensen pushes Jared out of the way as the leader comes at him with the baton swinging dangerously. Two of the thugs go after Eliot and Alec drops his bag and tangles with another. Jared can’t see more than that as the last ugly son of a bitch comes after him, meaty hands landing a lucky punch to Jared’s already sore face. Great.
Shaking it off and uncaring that he doesn’t know why he’s in the middle of a brawl, Jared swings back and catches the thug on the jaw with a wicked right cross. He can’t see how the others are faring but Jared came wound for a fight and he’s getting one, taking out his frustration on the stranger currently failing to beat him up.
Jared hears a laugh and a holler behind him - Jensen and Eliot - and he takes those as good signs. He ducks another of the thug’s jabs and lands a hard kick to his shins, dropping him to the pavement. Jared drops down and strikes a couple more blows, finally knocking the guy unconscious. When he stands, clutching his now battered knuckles against his chest, Jared finds the three friends staring at him, their opponents laid out just like Jared’s.
Eliot gives a low whistle and Alec turns to Jensen. “Sure you could have taken him, Jen?”
Jared smiles even as Jensen glares. “Anyone want to tell me who I was just fighting?”
“Some goons hired by Tim Richelieu,” Alec says before Jensen can stop him. “The three of us are good friends of King’s.”
“Means we’re at the top of his list to get rid of.”
“Richelieu? You’re telling me Tim Richelieu’s behind what happened to the Mayor this morning?”
“It’s pretty obvious, kid,” Eliot drawls and brushes dirt off his knees, missing Jared’s glare at the hated nickname. Jensen catches it though and smirks for only Jared to see. “And if we don’t want to start fighting a dozen more paid off thugs, I think we need to be makin’ ourselves scarce.”
"Wait, you're leaving?" Maybe it was the fist fight but Jared feels involved now.
"Sorry man. Those were some crazy ninja skills though," Alec's saying, picking up his bag. He and Eliot start walking away, leaving Jared staring at Jensen's troubled expression. Jared still barely knows the detective but the voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like his father tells him Jensen can be trusted. It won’t matter a lick though if Jensen ditches him right now. From the darting looks, that’s exactly what Jensen’s planning.
“Jensen, please,” Jared pleads softly. “Let me come with you. Whatever you’re doing, I can help.”
“The only thing I’m doing is getting the hell out of Los Angeles. You should do the same. If anyone finds out you helped us…”
“I don’t give a shit! I can help.”
“Wake up, Jared!” Jensen shouts, hands thrown up. “There’s nothing you can do.”
The anger flashing in Jensen’s eyes is mixed with pain and it hurts to see.
“Now get the hell out of here.”
Jared’s struck silent as Jensen spins and stalks away, fists clenching rhythmically at his sides. He stands and watches until Jensen disappears around the building, hearing an engine start and drive away a moment later.
He’s not sure how many minutes tick by until he catches another engine’s rumbling. There’s no time to hope that it’s Jensen coming back for him; Jared’s stomach turns when another menacing black s.u.v. appears on the scene. Dashing to his Jeep, Jared slams the keys in the ignition and listens to the sickening clunks of the engine trying and failing to turn over. The Escalade stops but the Jeep still won’t start. Jared prays, turning the keys in a last desperate attempt as the doors of the other vehicle open, revealing more leather-jacketed men.
The engine won’t engage and Jared bites back a scream, reaching for his cell phone and dialing numbers in haste.
He is so fucked.
“I’m tellin’ you, he’s turning us in right now!”
“He wouldn’t do that, Eliot, he’s Gerald’s son. That man didn’t raise a coward.”
Eliot keeps pacing back and forth in the small room. The trio hadn’t split up after the warehouse, holing up in a vacant apartment Hardison found and Jensen broke into.
“We don’t know that,” Eliot continues unhappily. “The kid has no loyalty to us. He’ll turn on us in a second if it saves his hide. Anyone would.”
Arguing with Eliot is pointless, even though Jensen vividly recalls the earnest look on Jared’s face when he abandoned the younger man - heard his impassioned pleas. He leans over Alec’s shoulder, eyeing all the different windows on the screen.
“How’d you figure out Jared was arrested?”
“I’ve got programs running to catch any mention of our names - warrants, memos, emails, you know. I added the kid’s name on the way over here, figured it couldn’t hurt.”
Thanks to Alec’s quick thinking, they’d no sooner stepped into the apartment when Alec was alerted to Jared’s arrest.
“He’s being held at the 26th precinct, charged with assaulting an officer.”
“The two-six? That’s gotta be one of the dirtiest,” Eliot adds unhelpfully.
“Damn it, more of Rochefort’s men must have shown up after we left!” Jensen pounds a fist on the desk and Hardison leans over his equipment protectively. “We shouldn’t have left him there.”
“Didn’t know we were picking up strays, Jenny.”
“He’s not a stray,” Jensen snaps. “We’ve got to help him out.”
“Break him out of a police precinct?”
“Like that’s a stretch for us, Alec. You can do it, right?”
Hardison nods, looking back at his screen and pulling up a few new windows. “I mean, yeah, I can. It’ll be just like this job I pulled up in Sacramento.”
Eliot’s head whips around. “Hey! I did that job.”
“I made it possible.”
“I did all the work!”
Jensen lets them and goes back over everything that’s happened since he found Jared in Alan King’s penthouse. It’s crazy, but he feels like he owes Jared - the kid showed his mettle just by coming to the warehouse, and then to fight with them?
“Fine, you contributed,” Alec’s saying.
“Contributed, my ass,” Eliot scoffs. “It was my idea.”
“Whatever.”
“So tell me how we can do this,” Jensen interrupts further bickering. Eliot and Alec glare at each other for another moment before Hardison turns to Jensen.
“Way I figure it? The two-six might be dirtier than Eliot’s hair, but Richelieu can’t afford to pay off everyone, especially all those beat cops getting stuck with holding cell duty.”
“So?”
“So we just have to do a little digging, pick the right time and the right cop to send a memo to.”
“A memo?” Jensen questions. “You want to get Jared released using only a memo.”
“Well, I mean, there’s a lot more to it than the memo, jeez,” Alec rolls his eyes. “I’ve gotta dig through some finances, pick someone who’s definitely not getting paid off. Then, if Eliot wants to contribute, he can figure out our getaway ‘cause we can’t exactly be showing our faces in that precinct.”
Eliot throws his arms up and walks away, but Jensen doesn’t doubt the cowboy’s mind is already working on getaway options. Jensen turns back to Hardison and listens to the details he’s laying out. It all sounds crazy, but it just might work. He doesn’t stop to question why he’s really so eager to help Jared, simply figures that they’re not in a position to help Alan King yet, but busting Jared out of a precinct is something they can do.
Now Jared's sure coming to Los Angeles was the worst idea he's ever had. Even ignoring his earlier problems with Jensen and friends, he's still sitting alone in an L.A.P.D. holding cell. Awesome.
It's funny, he could have sworn he was supposed to get a phone call or something but ever since he was dropped in this cell hours ago, no one's been by for him to harass. The men who had drawn their guns on him back at the warehouse - and wow, was that quickly becoming an annoying experience - had taken Jared's cell phone and barely said a word. One look at their unconscious comrades and Jared was swiftly cuffed and stuffed in the Escalade - no questions asked and a few extra punches thrown in for good measure - his curses and demands ignored. It's like he's been forgotten; Jensen left and even the cops aren’t bothering with him now.
Of course, being forgotten hasn't been all bad - Jared's overheard some interesting things. If only he could get out of here and find Jensen...
"All right, kid. Time to go."
What?
A portly, red-faced officer steps into Jared's view. "Apparently there was some sort of mix up and you were supposed to be released an hour ago."
It sounds strange but Jared's definitely not going to argue. His emancipator's a chatty one though, yammering as he opens the cell door. "Just got an email from the police commissioner - he's pretty upset you were held this long. Guess you've got someone lookin' out for ya, hey kid?"
Jared laughs uneasily, no idea what this man's talking about. He follows the officer down the corridor and through a nearly empty squad room before they reach the front door, where the cop hands him his phone and wallet both sealed in a plastic bag. Jared goes to turn and ask about his Jeep when he catches frantic waving outside the double glass doors.
Jensen.
The detective's down on the street standing beside a large, silver pick-up, motioning for Jared. He can't help the smile that stretches his cheeks. The officer letting him go turns to say something when a yell from the squad room stops them both.
"Hey, Jenkins! Where are you taking that kid?"
He's so fucking sick of being called kid but there's no time to get angry. Another officer appears looking irate and Jared knows, somehow, that Jensen and his friends arranged his release, and that he needs to get the hell out of Dodge right now.
Jared hears Jenkins call back. "Don't worry. I got the memo ordering his release! The commissioner insisted-"
But he's already running out the door to the sound of more shouting, making a dash down the steps towards the pick-up's open door, jumping inside to slide next to Jensen in the king cab. Jared doesn't look back as Jensen slams his hand on the back of the driver's seat.
"Go Eliot! Go!"
With no seat belt, Jared's knocked against the detective when Eliot peels away from the curb. In the passenger seat, Hardison's got a laptop open, typing furiously.
"We being followed yet, Jenny?"
Jensen's head whips from side to side and Jared tries to help by craning around and looking out the back window.
"Not yet. Hardison?"
"Already on it," Alec replies, clicking away at the keys. "All right, jamming their radios and..." he pauses then laughs. "Ha! There go their computers and GPS."
"So they won't be able to follow unless they see us?"
"Damn straight, bro."
Jared breathes a sigh of relief and glances over at Jensen, matching his bright smile. "Guess I owe you, huh?"
"I'll collect."
From the humor in Jensen's eyes, it's meant jokingly but Jared can't suppress the shudder down his spine, hiding it by pressing back against the seat and hanging on for the ride. Eliot's swerving through traffic efficiently - nothing too crazy or they'll get caught. Not that he has much prior experience, but being a passenger in a car chase hardly compares to the adrenaline rush of being the driver.
"Where are we headed?"
"Someplace not here, " Eliot grumbles.
"What about my Jeep?"
"It's either still at the warehouse or it'll end up in some impound lot," Alec says, not looking up from his laptop. "But I think you've got bigger problems."
Jensen snorts. "Yeah, so do we. Breaking you out was good and all, but we still have no idea how Richelieu managed to bring down King and our situation’s not getting any better until we do."
Jared clears his throat. "Maybe I can help with that."
Three pairs of eyes fix on Jared - Eliot's through the rearview - and Alec looks skeptical. "You know something we don't?"
"Like I said, maybe. I overheard a few conversations when I was in the precinct, I think they'd forgotten I was even there or thought I wouldn't know what they were talking about."
Jensen slides a little closer on the seat, eyes earnest. "What did you hear?"
Jared thinks, replaying his unintentional eavesdropping back in his mind, remembering what was said first.
"There were two people talking in the hallway outside of the holding cells," he begins, focused on Jensen's face even though all three men are listening intently. "One had a scratchy voice and he was saying how clever Richelieu was for getting King out of the way."
"Scratchy voice?" Alec questions. "Had to be Rochefort, that cocky son of a bitch. What else?"
"The other man mentioned Senator Conroy."
"Whoa, he's involved with this?"
Jared shakes his head. "I don't think so. They said King would never take his seat once all the corruption charges made the news."
Jensen sighs. "Conroy must be leaving the Senate after this term, and I'll bet anything Alan King was going to run."
"California Senator, that's a pretty powerful position," Alec remarks, starting to tap away at his keyboard again, sifting through articles. “Why settle for being the mayor when you can be a Senator?”
"Yeah, and if Alan King ran, there's no way our man would lose. He's too squeaky clean."
"Until today," Jensen groans. "Richelieu must want that Senate seat and he knew he'd never win against King."
"I think you're right," Jared rejoins the conversation. "One of the men said that they'd be able to get whatever they wanted once they were aligned with a Senator."
Eliot growls and grips the steering wheel, hitting the gas pedal as he accelerates onto the highway. "Dirty fuckin' politician."
Jared starts when Jensen's hand drops on his knee, drawing his eyes back to the green pair.
"Was there anything else?"
"There was a name," Jared remembers. "But I don't know who they meant. They kept mentioning a DeWinter."
Jensen's voice drops to a harsh whisper. "Rebecca."
"That sneaky bitch," Eliot adds from the front seat.
Hardison shakes his head. "I'd bet my limited edition Chewbacca action figure she's the one who was close enough to King to plant any evidence. Slimy, she's probably been working for Richelieu the entire time."
"Y'all know her?
Jensen nods and Jared's momentarily distracted by the reds and golds of the setting sun highlighting the older man's face. The detective catches him looking and Jared feels his face flush, the warmth having nothing to do with the fading sunlight.
"Rebecca DeWinter's probably the only black mark to Alan King's name," he explains. "King and his wife barely see each other and Rebecca's been his mistress off and on for years."
"They've been planning this for a while then," Jared thinks aloud and sees Jensen nod again.
"Looks like," Jensen sighs wearily. "Hardison, do you think you can set up your equipment somewhere and dig in to the evidence? Where it's all coming from?"
The situation is complicated and Jared barely knows more than what he's heard in the last few minutes, but a thrum of anticipation works through his limbs. He's no longer a bystander - the innocent and unwanted kid who'd stumbled onto something big. No, Jared's a part of this now, and not even Jensen can force him away.
"Probably. My stuff's all in the back, hopefully not damaged," Alec says pointedly to Eliot. "We just need somewhere to lay low for a while so I can do some lookin'."
Eliot grins at Hardison. "I got the perfect place..."
On to PART TWO.
Starring: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki. Special appearances by Eliot Spencer [Christian Kane] and Alec Hardison [Aldis Hodge].
Rating/Warnings: Adult. AU. A lot of swearing.
Word Count: approx. 14,500
Summary: Jensen wants justice. Eliot wants a beer and a stripper, in that order. Alec wants people to stop breaking his shit. Jared...well, Jared just wants a job. Written for j2_everafter based on the movie The Three Musketeers. I don't know who I should apologize to first, Walt Disney or Alexandre Dumas.
It's only when Jared Padalecki's well down Interstate 5, Los Angeles almost in reach, that he lets up on the gas pedal and feels his heart stop racing. There's no sign of the sleek silver Lexus following him, lost in a high speed game of cat and mouse out of Santa Cruz that thankfully hadn't attracted police attention. Relieved, Jared eases into heavier traffic, the bustle of L.A. surrounding him.
Giddiness overtakes him and Jared can’t help laughing. It's been a ridiculous morning; Chad red-faced and blustering as he tried to kick Jared's ass over his sister's "honor". Jared laughs harder remembering the unmanly squeals the blonde man made when Jared repeatedly knocked him to the pavement. All good and rousing fun until Chad's older brothers drove onto the scene, forcing Jared's hasty exit and escape down California highways.
Jared turns up the volume on his old Jeep's stereo, blasting Andrew McMahon's piano rock vocals into the bright California morning. Picturing the look on Chad's face when he'd peeled out of the parking lot, yelling a rude comment about his sister just for kicks, makes Jared smile even wider. He wonders how the squirrely Murray boy would have reacted if Jared had shouted his regard for Chad's youngest brother. Oh, that would have been priceless.
After all, when the lithe eighteen year old boy asked Jared to teach him how to kiss, what was he supposed to say? No?
Now, passing exits leading to the city he's always wanted to live in, Jared can only imagine what the rest of the day holds for him. Coming here is the fulfillment of his father's dream - Jared's dream too. It's a little silly, but he can almost feel his Dad riding with him, chuckling as Jared cuts through traffic to get off the highway, guiding him to downtown Los Angeles where a new job waits.
Jensen stops on the sidewalk, catching the breaking news through a store window. People pass, oblivious, as he's riveted by the news he knew was coming.
Los Angeles Mayor Alan King Arrested for Corruption.
With Timothy Richelieu, the ruthless and underhanded politician, back in town, it was only a matter of time until he tried to bring King down and went after everyone still loyal to the Mayor.
Jensen thought they'd have more time.
He'd skipped the meeting this morning at his precinct, knowing his connection to Alan King wouldn't go unpunished by Richelieu's cronies. Hell, he expected more than a few members of his department were dirty - Jensen would be muscled out in no time despite the years he's given to the force.
The anchor repeats the news that will shock citizens of Los Angeles. Jensen catches new information from the scrolling headlines - Mayor King's home and office had been searched for evidence the night before.
Knowing he's probably lost his job, Jensen sends two quick text messages as he walks away from the window. He might be alone now, but he's pretty sure he that won't last.
An hour later Jensen's crouched in the foyer of Alan King's city penthouse having slipped by the police guards easily. Timothy Richelieu might have a lot of cops in his pocket, but no one said they were the smartest. The debris around him makes it clear Richelieu's thugs were thorough and unnecessarily destructive in their search. What could be upturned and emptied was, other furniture smashed and kicked apart, no thought for order and efficiency here. There's nothing left for Jensen to salvage.
"Let the fuckin' bastards have it," he mutters to the empty room. Jensen can find another way; he'll have help.
"What the hell?"
Jensen goes for his gun in a split second, pulling and drawing in a motion honed by repetition and necessity. He's almost impressed when the owner of the young, strong voice barely flinches as the .45-caliber pistol is aimed at him.
"Who the hell are you?"
The guy stammers a bit, cocked gun stealing some of his bravado. "What the fuck happened here?"
"Name, now."
"Jared...I, uh - I was supposed to meet with Mayor King today. He...he said he'd meet me here - shit, did he get robbed?"
He edges away from Jensen, eyes darting wildly but always returning to the gun in Jensen's unwavering grip. Jensen takes the chance to size up the tall kid. Based on his stance, Jensen guesses he's not carrying. He's wearing a slightly rumpled dress shirt and dark jeans, sunglasses pushing back thick, wavy brown hair. For a split second Jensen thinks he's face to face with young Hollywood, but he's never seen this kid before in his life.
He doesn't have time to appreciate the view, no matter how enticing. He holsters his weapon. "No, Alan King wasn't robbed. Now get out of here."
Jensen's planning on doing the same; he’s ready to meet up with the 'help' and figure out what the fuck is going on.
"I was supposed to have an interview with Mayor King, maybe get a job." Jensen doesn't actually care, this idiot can stand here as long as he wants, probably get arrested when Richelieu's hired faithful inevitably come back.
"I don't give a shit. I'm leaving," Jensen tries to stalk out, eager to leave. "Feel free to poke around for souvenirs."
A large hand on his chest stops him at the doorway, heat spreading and adding to the fire burning in his stomach.
"Well where the hell is he?"
"Go watch the news." He's close enough to see gold flecks in the younger man's rich hazel eyes, and Jensen doesn't back away.
"Was that supposed to be helpful?"
"Excuse me?" He can hear the dangerous edge to his own voice. If this kid's smart, he'll hightail it without another word.
"I need to see Alan King."
Heard that the first time, Jensen scoffs silently.
The boy's eyes narrow but they're hardly menacing. His voice gets slower, more deliberate. "I would appreciate your help."
Rather than being pacified, Jensen wants to laugh. Or, you know, punch the kid. His mouth twists in an intimidating smile, one that's always told bad guys they're in for the worst ride of their lives. Jensen's getting desperate for an outlet to vent his frustration. Fighting or fucking - it's all the same. With the speculative look the boy's giving him, he's not sure what he'd prefer.
"Get lost, kid."
Jared's eyes flash and Jensen's a little fascinated. "Don't fuckin' call me kid!"
"Listen, you walked into something bigger than your damn interview, so either get lost or let me leave." There are only inches between them but the young man steps closer into Jensen's space. "I don't give a shit why you came here, pretty boy, this place was ripped apart for a reason. I think the Mayor's got bigger things to deal with than your unemployment."
Jensen smacks Jared's hand away from his chest and pushes past him.
"Hey!"
Jensen spins fast, catching the young man off guard and he reels back.
"Clearly, you need a lesson in manners, boy," Jensen knows he hitting a sore spot, but he wants to ruffle Jared's feathers. He waits for his meaning to become clear and he's surprised with the confident, whispered response.
"Anytime."
A fight it is. Jensen won’t admit his slight disappointment.
"Warehouse 81, down at the Port of L.A., at two o'clock," he grates, sees Jared swallow and his eyes catch momentarily on the movement of his Adam's apple. "Think you can manage that?"
"I'll be there."
"I'll be waiting, kid."
Turning on his heel, Jensen strides out of the penthouse quickly and catches the elevator without looking back. Once inside the steel box and on his way down, he sighs and shakes off the encounter, sure that kid's going to be in police custody long before he makes it to the abandoned warehouse.
He leans his head back against the gleaming metal wall and sighs. It's barely noon and he already needs a drink.
Jared's beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, coming to Los Angeles was a really shitty idea. Never in a million years could he have imagined a day like this.
First the narrow, yet crafty escape from Chad's moronic brothers, followed by walking into Alan King's penthouse office and having a gun drawn on him by a stranger with vibrant and angry green eyes. Then another escape from the Murray family, the members of which apparently were smart enough to track him to the city. Who knew?
Oh, did he mention the fights?
The circumstances of the first stir Jared's blood thanks to the fierce gaze and gorgeous face of the man from the penthouse. A cop, Jared would bet, from the familiar way he drew his gun and his holster-heavy stride. Yeah, he hadn't found out anything useful from the guy until he pulled up today’s headlines on his iPhone, but not a total loss. Jared's already looking forward to their next meeting.
Until he ran into a black man as tall as he was. It wasn't Jared's fault that this jerk was large enough to block Jared's escape path through a sidewalk cafe. He didn't have to make such a big and obnoxious deal of the fact that Jared supposedly made him drop his laptop. Drama queen. The guy had looked ready to throw down on him right there in public. He'd narrowly escaped, shoving a hapless waitress towards the guy and making a run for it all while hearing the guy's threats to "seriously fuck with his life" following him.
He couldn't make this stuff up. Resigned to the fact that now two people in L.A., plus Chad's brothers, all wanted him dead, Jared went on his way. He was minding his own business when a man dropped out of the sky. Literally.
Los Angeles sucked.
Like it was the natural reaction to any bad situation, the ornery long-haired cowboy who'd landed on Jared decided to pick a fight. Jared, still annoyed at being crushed, felt entitled to his bad mood but the cowboy didn't take well to Jared's sarcasm. Five minutes later, Jared found himself flat on his back with an aching jaw, listening to yet another crudely worded threat.
Really, it was ridiculous. Why did everyone want to kick his ass? His mom always told him what a nice boy he'd grown up to be, and he believed her. Everyone loved Jared back in Santa Cruz. Except Chad, of course, but he had a good reason. A really good reason if he ever bothered to talk to his younger brother.
Jared's only got a little time before he needs to be at the warehouse. He could easily blow it off, get lost in the city and never see the handsome cop again, but he'll show up. He feels listless, no idea what to do now that Alan King's been arrested and his chances blown to hell. The meeting gives him focus, even though he could walk away from it with a black eye or worse.
He doesn't believe the news feeds for a second. Alan King, corrupt? Not in Jared's world; Gerald Padalecki always said Alan was a good man, honest and fair, and Jared's father was never wrong. Something's going on and Jared refuses to slink back to Santa Cruz without finding out more. And his green-eyed stranger is going to provide the first clue.
Now, if he could only remember where he parked his Jeep.
They're in a back alley dive, Jensen drinking half his beer in one swallow. Eliot's brooding on the next bar stool, cracking his knuckles - an agitated grinding of bone on bone that makes Jensen's spine tense in sympathy.
And Alec won't shut up.
"And then the lanky dude just danced away like my baby's insides weren't decorating the sidewalk."
"Jesus, Hardison, shut up." Eliot grumbles into his beer. "It's just a laptop."
Saul, the aging bartender, is used to their banter and grumbling, ignoring them in favor of staring off into space.
Alec clicks another plastic panel from the mess in front of him into place. "Just a...aw hell no, you did not just say that. Just a laptop, my ass."
"Least you weren't injured. I had to jump down from a fire escape to get away from one of Richelieu's thugs."
"He broke my laptop. I don't see you missin' any pieces."
"Yeah well, I would have if that dumb bastard hadn't broken my fall."
Jensen laughs, looking past Eliot to Alec's scowling face. "Don't you have like five laptops?"
"Six, but this one's special."
"Right," Eliot mutters.
Alec goes back to pouting and mumbling. "Don't know why I'm talking to you anyway. Probably can't even work a box."
"Hey!"
It feels good to laugh with these guys - Jensen's brothers. Jensen Ackles, Alec Hardison, and Eliot Spencer -the Three Amigos, the Musketeers, whatever you want to call them. Alan King had called them all 'dumb idiots' when they started out as young cops under the ambitious police captain. They'd grown up in the force, sharing stories, patching wounds, and drinking together to forget the hardest days. Eventually they went their separate ways - Jensen became a homicide detective, Eliot went to work in high-profile security, and Alec turned computer forensics into a specialized career - but they remained friends. Always brothers.
All three of them owed their successes to Alan King. And all three knew they'd be at the top of Timothy Richelieu's list to be eliminated.
"Man, I don't get it."
"What's to get?" Eliot says, low and apathetic. "Richelieu made his move and we couldn't stop it."
"Didn't know enough to stop him," Jensen adds. "What's his endgame though?"
"He always hated Alan," Alec recalls. "Plus, a man in Richelieu's position would be a good replacement if the Mayor was brought down."
"Thought his ambitions were larger," Eliot muses. "That scumbag's always thought big."
Alec fits another piece of his laptop back in its place. "It's out of our hands now. I say we ditch this city before Richelieu comes after us, 'cause you know he's gonna."
"Run like cowards?" Alec's suggestion clearly doesn't sit well with Eliot, even if it might be their only option. Still, it doesn't feel right to Jensen either. Besides...
Jensen clears his throat. "If you two want to get out, find somewhere to lay low for a while, I'll meet up with you."
"Wait, what the hell will you be doing?"
"I kind of have a thing."
Eliot glares. "Kind of?"
"A thing?" Alec finishes. "What's that sound like to you, Eliot?"
"Sound like some bullshit to me, Hardison."
"Feel like telling us why you want to risk your ass stayin' here?"
Jensen leaves out the details. "I have to meet someone in an hour down at the Port, settle some business."
Eliot pushes his long hair back out of his face. "Right, Jen. That wasn't vague. At all."
The guys won't let it go and Jensen shakes his head. "I met this kid over at King's penthouse." Just calling Jared 'kid' sends his mind back to the fiery look on the young man's face.
"A kid?"
"A guy. We got into it and he was in my face. I threatened to lay him out and he didn't back down."
"What the hell was he doing at Alan's?" Alec questions with a raised eyebrow, starting on his second bottle of beer.
Jensen shrugs, playing the confrontation over in his head. He can picture Jared - feel his hand, smell his confidence - and it stirs something uncomfortable deep within him.
"I'm supposed to meet him down by the Port at two. He probably won't even show up."
He's got to be giving something away in his face, or Alec and Eliot know him too well, since they're both smirking. Jensen huffs and averts his eyes.
"Can we get back to our bigger problem?"
"Sure you don't want a few minutes to reminisce?" Alec enunciates, smirking.
"Well Jenny, sounds like we need to meet this kid."
"Maybe we should go with you." Jensen wants to smack the smile off Eliot's face. "You know, backup."
"Y'all suck," Jensen drawls, annoyed and flushed. "Alan? Richelieu? Our asses on the line? Any of this ringing a bell?"
Thankfully his friends stay quiet and Jensen sighs. He starts again. "So we know Richelieu had to provide evidence somehow. There's gotta be a source and a trail."
"He's got dirty cops and lawyers from here to San Diego," Alec adds. "But there had to be someone close to Alan to feed information and plant evidence."
"A needle in a haystack of payoffs and blackmail." Eliot's shaking his head. "And we know that he'll be coming after us if he can track us down."
"Which makes me wonder why we're still sitting here instead of runnin' off to Mexico!"
"A little late for that, don't you think?"
The cold, dry voice silences the three of them. Jensen shifts on the bar stool and locks eyes with Michael Rochefort, lips twisting into a sneer at the sight of his old partner and his two leather-jacketed goons.
"Mike, you dirty piece of shit."
"Nice to see you too, Ackles," Rochefort rasps, despicable smile turned on the three men. Saul quickly shuffles away, leaving a three-on-three stare-down.
"Get the fuck out of here, Rochefort."
The former detective's laugh makes Jensen's skin crawl. Rochefort is neck deep in Timothy Richelieu's scheming - has been since before he and Jensen were teamed up in the L.A.P.D.. Showing up here is a bad sign for the three friends.
His smile twists dangerously. "But we just got here, how about a drink for old times?"
"How 'bout I knock you and your moron friends through that window?" Eliot growls, already off the barstool and bristling.
“Still just a pumped up dick, Eliot? That’s a shame.” Rochefort grins when the goons behind him laugh. “Fine, I’ll get right down to business then. Jensen, I’m sorry to say you’ve been suspended from your department, pending relocation. Canada’s nice this time of year, I hear.”
It’s no surprise to Jensen, but it still hurts, knowing that these corrupt men have such influence.
“Why don’t the three of you come with us, lay low for a while until all of this blows over? You can stay out of trouble and we won’t have any problems.”
Alec snorts. “Like that’s gonna happen.”
Mike smiles as if the response is what he expected. “Then I guess I have no choice but to make sure you won’t interfere -“
Whatever threat Rochefort’s about to make is cut off as Eliot grabs the nearest liquor bottle and tosses it at the hostile trio. It distracts them enough for Alec and Jensen to stand and start throwing punches. Eliot jumps into the fray swinging and cursing. Good old Saul, smart enough to know when trouble can’t be avoided, stays out of sight until the hits cease and all he hears are groans of pain.
Jared curses traffic as he drives out of downtown, knowing he'll be late. He doesn't know why he's so irritated - there's a good possibility he completely misread the cop and he's about the get the crap knocked out of him. But the thought of his stranger still sends a thrill racing into his blood. Part of him wants answers and part just wants. Jared's not too comfortable analyzing that so he doesn't, focusing on finding the damn warehouse.
The green eyed man is outside waiting when he pulls up, leaning casually against a concrete wall and looking for all the world as if he and Jared are about to have a pleasant conversation. Light smoke from the man's cigarette curls around his chiseled features and sunlight catches the soft spikes of his hair.
He looks the same as before. Worn leather jacket drapes over broad shoulders, covering strong arms. A black shirt paired with dark denim jeans. Sun glints off the small silver cross in the dip of the man's throat, drawing Jared's eyes back up. The only things missing are the gun and the fierce anger.
"You're late." His voice is just as rough and intense as before, striking Jared as wrong coming from such a soft, plush mouth.
"In a hurry to eat pavement or something?" Jared pushes as much bravado into the remark as he can. He might have a few inches and twenty pounds on this cop but that means nothing to an experienced fighter. He's felt the strength in this guy's chest, in his arms.
Jared's glad to see the smirk pulling at the other man's lips; they have no real quarrel, but a fight's a fight and neither man is going to back down.
The cop steps close, nearly sliding into Jared's space and he doesn't mind the intrusion. The other man laughs softly, mockingly, and Jared wants to push him back into that wall.
"You know, we could drop this act," Jared suggests, steadying his voice and praying that he's not wrong. "Forget fighting, I don't want to have to kick your ass."
If possible, the cop moves even closer and his eyes track up and down Jared's chest. "Really? What do you want?"
Jared's mind provides plenty of helpful suggestions, some in very vivid detail, and none of which he can mention out loud.
"Answers," he finally manages. "I want some god damn answers. What happened to Alan King? Why did you point a gun at my head? Who the hell are you?"
"You first."
Fair enough, Jared thinks, as long as he gets his answers. "I told you, my name's Jared Padalecki."
A strange look crosses the other man's face at his last name, almost recognition, but Jared doesn't comment. "I was supposed to meet Mayor King to talk about a job. He was friends with my father..."
"Was?"
"Yeah," he murmurs. "My Dad passed away."
The cop nods, his expression still hard and focused, and finally extends his right arm, taking Jared's offered hand in a firm grip. "Jensen Ackles, detective with the L.A.P.D.. I worked for Alan King when he was a police captain."
"And now?"
"Now, like you, I'm trying to figure out what's going on," Jensen grates out, sounding as frustrated as Jared feels.
Jared's sure that Jensen knows a lot more than he does and a question's on the tip of his tongue when another voice calls out from behind him.
"Yo, Jenny, sorry we're late!"
Jared spins and comes face to face with the last two people he wants to see. He barely has time to hear “oh hell no” before he’s ducking one punch and stepping backwards to avoid another. Forced against a wall by the two men who’d ruined his morning, Jared’s grateful and surprised when Jensen steps in front of him.
“What the hell, guys?”
“That’s the guy!” The tall black man’s yelling. “The lanky dude!”
“The bastard I fell on,” the long haired one drawls.
Jensen looks at Jared over his shoulder, humor brightening his eyes. “Not having a banner day, are you?”
The dark skinned guy raises an eyebrow and looks from Jensen to Jared. “This is the kid you were supposed to fight?”
Jensen nods, broad back still blocking Jared from the shorter man. “Yeah, about that…I think there’s been a change of plans.”
“Come on, Jenny,” the cowboy interrupts, stepping closer. “Let me kick his ass if you’re not gonna do it.”
“Kick my ass?” Jared defends. “You punched me after you landed on me!”
“Hey!” Jensen lays a hand on the cowboy’s chest and pushes him away. “No ass kicking, we have bigger things to deal with. Guys, this is Jared Padalecki.”
“Wait, Gerald’s kid?”
“You knew my Dad?” Jared turns sharp eyes on the cowboy but he doesn’t get an answer as Jensen introduces his friends.
“Eliot Spencer,” he motions to the shorter man who still isn’t thrilled with Jared’s presence. “And that’s Alec Hardison.”
“Jen, if you guys aren’t gonna throw down, maybe we should be thinkin’ about that Mexico thing. A little TJ, you know? ‘Stead of staying here and getting killed when Mike regains consciousness?”
“Killed?” Jared steps around Jensen.
“Look, kid, this ain’t your business,” Eliot sighs before Jensen can start explaining.
“Don’t call me k-“
“Jared, hey,” Jensen turns to him. “These guys are right. I need to get out of here. You need to-“
Jensen’s cut off by the screeching of tires as a large black Escalade appears and stops. In a split second Jensen and Eliot’s postures shift - weight balancing and ready. Jared’s confused but when five men jump out of the s.u.v. and Alec groans, he knows this isn’t good.
“Twice in one day?” Alec’s muttering while Jensen and Eliot track the approaching group. “We’ve got to find new places to hang out, y’all.”
“Don’t suppose you boys came here for the scenery?” Jensen shouts, mouth twisted in a grimace.
The five thugs they’re faced with don’t bother responding but the largest pulls a police baton from his coat and suddenly all hell breaks loose. Jensen pushes Jared out of the way as the leader comes at him with the baton swinging dangerously. Two of the thugs go after Eliot and Alec drops his bag and tangles with another. Jared can’t see more than that as the last ugly son of a bitch comes after him, meaty hands landing a lucky punch to Jared’s already sore face. Great.
Shaking it off and uncaring that he doesn’t know why he’s in the middle of a brawl, Jared swings back and catches the thug on the jaw with a wicked right cross. He can’t see how the others are faring but Jared came wound for a fight and he’s getting one, taking out his frustration on the stranger currently failing to beat him up.
Jared hears a laugh and a holler behind him - Jensen and Eliot - and he takes those as good signs. He ducks another of the thug’s jabs and lands a hard kick to his shins, dropping him to the pavement. Jared drops down and strikes a couple more blows, finally knocking the guy unconscious. When he stands, clutching his now battered knuckles against his chest, Jared finds the three friends staring at him, their opponents laid out just like Jared’s.
Eliot gives a low whistle and Alec turns to Jensen. “Sure you could have taken him, Jen?”
Jared smiles even as Jensen glares. “Anyone want to tell me who I was just fighting?”
“Some goons hired by Tim Richelieu,” Alec says before Jensen can stop him. “The three of us are good friends of King’s.”
“Means we’re at the top of his list to get rid of.”
“Richelieu? You’re telling me Tim Richelieu’s behind what happened to the Mayor this morning?”
“It’s pretty obvious, kid,” Eliot drawls and brushes dirt off his knees, missing Jared’s glare at the hated nickname. Jensen catches it though and smirks for only Jared to see. “And if we don’t want to start fighting a dozen more paid off thugs, I think we need to be makin’ ourselves scarce.”
"Wait, you're leaving?" Maybe it was the fist fight but Jared feels involved now.
"Sorry man. Those were some crazy ninja skills though," Alec's saying, picking up his bag. He and Eliot start walking away, leaving Jared staring at Jensen's troubled expression. Jared still barely knows the detective but the voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like his father tells him Jensen can be trusted. It won’t matter a lick though if Jensen ditches him right now. From the darting looks, that’s exactly what Jensen’s planning.
“Jensen, please,” Jared pleads softly. “Let me come with you. Whatever you’re doing, I can help.”
“The only thing I’m doing is getting the hell out of Los Angeles. You should do the same. If anyone finds out you helped us…”
“I don’t give a shit! I can help.”
“Wake up, Jared!” Jensen shouts, hands thrown up. “There’s nothing you can do.”
The anger flashing in Jensen’s eyes is mixed with pain and it hurts to see.
“Now get the hell out of here.”
Jared’s struck silent as Jensen spins and stalks away, fists clenching rhythmically at his sides. He stands and watches until Jensen disappears around the building, hearing an engine start and drive away a moment later.
He’s not sure how many minutes tick by until he catches another engine’s rumbling. There’s no time to hope that it’s Jensen coming back for him; Jared’s stomach turns when another menacing black s.u.v. appears on the scene. Dashing to his Jeep, Jared slams the keys in the ignition and listens to the sickening clunks of the engine trying and failing to turn over. The Escalade stops but the Jeep still won’t start. Jared prays, turning the keys in a last desperate attempt as the doors of the other vehicle open, revealing more leather-jacketed men.
The engine won’t engage and Jared bites back a scream, reaching for his cell phone and dialing numbers in haste.
He is so fucked.
“I’m tellin’ you, he’s turning us in right now!”
“He wouldn’t do that, Eliot, he’s Gerald’s son. That man didn’t raise a coward.”
Eliot keeps pacing back and forth in the small room. The trio hadn’t split up after the warehouse, holing up in a vacant apartment Hardison found and Jensen broke into.
“We don’t know that,” Eliot continues unhappily. “The kid has no loyalty to us. He’ll turn on us in a second if it saves his hide. Anyone would.”
Arguing with Eliot is pointless, even though Jensen vividly recalls the earnest look on Jared’s face when he abandoned the younger man - heard his impassioned pleas. He leans over Alec’s shoulder, eyeing all the different windows on the screen.
“How’d you figure out Jared was arrested?”
“I’ve got programs running to catch any mention of our names - warrants, memos, emails, you know. I added the kid’s name on the way over here, figured it couldn’t hurt.”
Thanks to Alec’s quick thinking, they’d no sooner stepped into the apartment when Alec was alerted to Jared’s arrest.
“He’s being held at the 26th precinct, charged with assaulting an officer.”
“The two-six? That’s gotta be one of the dirtiest,” Eliot adds unhelpfully.
“Damn it, more of Rochefort’s men must have shown up after we left!” Jensen pounds a fist on the desk and Hardison leans over his equipment protectively. “We shouldn’t have left him there.”
“Didn’t know we were picking up strays, Jenny.”
“He’s not a stray,” Jensen snaps. “We’ve got to help him out.”
“Break him out of a police precinct?”
“Like that’s a stretch for us, Alec. You can do it, right?”
Hardison nods, looking back at his screen and pulling up a few new windows. “I mean, yeah, I can. It’ll be just like this job I pulled up in Sacramento.”
Eliot’s head whips around. “Hey! I did that job.”
“I made it possible.”
“I did all the work!”
Jensen lets them and goes back over everything that’s happened since he found Jared in Alan King’s penthouse. It’s crazy, but he feels like he owes Jared - the kid showed his mettle just by coming to the warehouse, and then to fight with them?
“Fine, you contributed,” Alec’s saying.
“Contributed, my ass,” Eliot scoffs. “It was my idea.”
“Whatever.”
“So tell me how we can do this,” Jensen interrupts further bickering. Eliot and Alec glare at each other for another moment before Hardison turns to Jensen.
“Way I figure it? The two-six might be dirtier than Eliot’s hair, but Richelieu can’t afford to pay off everyone, especially all those beat cops getting stuck with holding cell duty.”
“So?”
“So we just have to do a little digging, pick the right time and the right cop to send a memo to.”
“A memo?” Jensen questions. “You want to get Jared released using only a memo.”
“Well, I mean, there’s a lot more to it than the memo, jeez,” Alec rolls his eyes. “I’ve gotta dig through some finances, pick someone who’s definitely not getting paid off. Then, if Eliot wants to contribute, he can figure out our getaway ‘cause we can’t exactly be showing our faces in that precinct.”
Eliot throws his arms up and walks away, but Jensen doesn’t doubt the cowboy’s mind is already working on getaway options. Jensen turns back to Hardison and listens to the details he’s laying out. It all sounds crazy, but it just might work. He doesn’t stop to question why he’s really so eager to help Jared, simply figures that they’re not in a position to help Alan King yet, but busting Jared out of a precinct is something they can do.
Now Jared's sure coming to Los Angeles was the worst idea he's ever had. Even ignoring his earlier problems with Jensen and friends, he's still sitting alone in an L.A.P.D. holding cell. Awesome.
It's funny, he could have sworn he was supposed to get a phone call or something but ever since he was dropped in this cell hours ago, no one's been by for him to harass. The men who had drawn their guns on him back at the warehouse - and wow, was that quickly becoming an annoying experience - had taken Jared's cell phone and barely said a word. One look at their unconscious comrades and Jared was swiftly cuffed and stuffed in the Escalade - no questions asked and a few extra punches thrown in for good measure - his curses and demands ignored. It's like he's been forgotten; Jensen left and even the cops aren’t bothering with him now.
Of course, being forgotten hasn't been all bad - Jared's overheard some interesting things. If only he could get out of here and find Jensen...
"All right, kid. Time to go."
What?
A portly, red-faced officer steps into Jared's view. "Apparently there was some sort of mix up and you were supposed to be released an hour ago."
It sounds strange but Jared's definitely not going to argue. His emancipator's a chatty one though, yammering as he opens the cell door. "Just got an email from the police commissioner - he's pretty upset you were held this long. Guess you've got someone lookin' out for ya, hey kid?"
Jared laughs uneasily, no idea what this man's talking about. He follows the officer down the corridor and through a nearly empty squad room before they reach the front door, where the cop hands him his phone and wallet both sealed in a plastic bag. Jared goes to turn and ask about his Jeep when he catches frantic waving outside the double glass doors.
Jensen.
The detective's down on the street standing beside a large, silver pick-up, motioning for Jared. He can't help the smile that stretches his cheeks. The officer letting him go turns to say something when a yell from the squad room stops them both.
"Hey, Jenkins! Where are you taking that kid?"
He's so fucking sick of being called kid but there's no time to get angry. Another officer appears looking irate and Jared knows, somehow, that Jensen and his friends arranged his release, and that he needs to get the hell out of Dodge right now.
Jared hears Jenkins call back. "Don't worry. I got the memo ordering his release! The commissioner insisted-"
But he's already running out the door to the sound of more shouting, making a dash down the steps towards the pick-up's open door, jumping inside to slide next to Jensen in the king cab. Jared doesn't look back as Jensen slams his hand on the back of the driver's seat.
"Go Eliot! Go!"
With no seat belt, Jared's knocked against the detective when Eliot peels away from the curb. In the passenger seat, Hardison's got a laptop open, typing furiously.
"We being followed yet, Jenny?"
Jensen's head whips from side to side and Jared tries to help by craning around and looking out the back window.
"Not yet. Hardison?"
"Already on it," Alec replies, clicking away at the keys. "All right, jamming their radios and..." he pauses then laughs. "Ha! There go their computers and GPS."
"So they won't be able to follow unless they see us?"
"Damn straight, bro."
Jared breathes a sigh of relief and glances over at Jensen, matching his bright smile. "Guess I owe you, huh?"
"I'll collect."
From the humor in Jensen's eyes, it's meant jokingly but Jared can't suppress the shudder down his spine, hiding it by pressing back against the seat and hanging on for the ride. Eliot's swerving through traffic efficiently - nothing too crazy or they'll get caught. Not that he has much prior experience, but being a passenger in a car chase hardly compares to the adrenaline rush of being the driver.
"Where are we headed?"
"Someplace not here, " Eliot grumbles.
"What about my Jeep?"
"It's either still at the warehouse or it'll end up in some impound lot," Alec says, not looking up from his laptop. "But I think you've got bigger problems."
Jensen snorts. "Yeah, so do we. Breaking you out was good and all, but we still have no idea how Richelieu managed to bring down King and our situation’s not getting any better until we do."
Jared clears his throat. "Maybe I can help with that."
Three pairs of eyes fix on Jared - Eliot's through the rearview - and Alec looks skeptical. "You know something we don't?"
"Like I said, maybe. I overheard a few conversations when I was in the precinct, I think they'd forgotten I was even there or thought I wouldn't know what they were talking about."
Jensen slides a little closer on the seat, eyes earnest. "What did you hear?"
Jared thinks, replaying his unintentional eavesdropping back in his mind, remembering what was said first.
"There were two people talking in the hallway outside of the holding cells," he begins, focused on Jensen's face even though all three men are listening intently. "One had a scratchy voice and he was saying how clever Richelieu was for getting King out of the way."
"Scratchy voice?" Alec questions. "Had to be Rochefort, that cocky son of a bitch. What else?"
"The other man mentioned Senator Conroy."
"Whoa, he's involved with this?"
Jared shakes his head. "I don't think so. They said King would never take his seat once all the corruption charges made the news."
Jensen sighs. "Conroy must be leaving the Senate after this term, and I'll bet anything Alan King was going to run."
"California Senator, that's a pretty powerful position," Alec remarks, starting to tap away at his keyboard again, sifting through articles. “Why settle for being the mayor when you can be a Senator?”
"Yeah, and if Alan King ran, there's no way our man would lose. He's too squeaky clean."
"Until today," Jensen groans. "Richelieu must want that Senate seat and he knew he'd never win against King."
"I think you're right," Jared rejoins the conversation. "One of the men said that they'd be able to get whatever they wanted once they were aligned with a Senator."
Eliot growls and grips the steering wheel, hitting the gas pedal as he accelerates onto the highway. "Dirty fuckin' politician."
Jared starts when Jensen's hand drops on his knee, drawing his eyes back to the green pair.
"Was there anything else?"
"There was a name," Jared remembers. "But I don't know who they meant. They kept mentioning a DeWinter."
Jensen's voice drops to a harsh whisper. "Rebecca."
"That sneaky bitch," Eliot adds from the front seat.
Hardison shakes his head. "I'd bet my limited edition Chewbacca action figure she's the one who was close enough to King to plant any evidence. Slimy, she's probably been working for Richelieu the entire time."
"Y'all know her?
Jensen nods and Jared's momentarily distracted by the reds and golds of the setting sun highlighting the older man's face. The detective catches him looking and Jared feels his face flush, the warmth having nothing to do with the fading sunlight.
"Rebecca DeWinter's probably the only black mark to Alan King's name," he explains. "King and his wife barely see each other and Rebecca's been his mistress off and on for years."
"They've been planning this for a while then," Jared thinks aloud and sees Jensen nod again.
"Looks like," Jensen sighs wearily. "Hardison, do you think you can set up your equipment somewhere and dig in to the evidence? Where it's all coming from?"
The situation is complicated and Jared barely knows more than what he's heard in the last few minutes, but a thrum of anticipation works through his limbs. He's no longer a bystander - the innocent and unwanted kid who'd stumbled onto something big. No, Jared's a part of this now, and not even Jensen can force him away.
"Probably. My stuff's all in the back, hopefully not damaged," Alec says pointedly to Eliot. "We just need somewhere to lay low for a while so I can do some lookin'."
Eliot grins at Hardison. "I got the perfect place..."
On to PART TWO.