Fic: Keep Coming Around
Title: Keep Coming Around
Author: Miss Kitty E.
Fandom: SPN RPS
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: 90% R for occasional language, with NC-17 in the last part.
Word Count: 26,403
Disclaimer: I did not dream Jared and Jensen into existence, but I would have had they not already been running around being real people.
Author's Notes: I was moaning about how the only thing that could possibly cheer me up was Jared Padalecki with an armful of kittens and Merrin said that was brilliant and as we talked this story sort decided to be written. I told myself the world doesn't really need another J2 romance novel, but it was such a damn fun thing to escape into that I wrote it in mere days. Title was inspired by Marc Broussard.
This is supposed to be dedicated to Merrin and it is, but I should say that while the word dedicated implies this fic is just serenading her from a stage, I really think the relationship between her and this fic is more like that of an stern aunt and young nephew. She loves it, but she'll smack it between the shoulder blades and tell it to "Straighten up!" if it starts slouching. Her beta really pushed me to improve something I viewed mostly as fluff.
My great thanks to Kate for reading through and for dealing with my insecurities with surprisingly endless patience.
Check it out, I wrote another installment in the 'verse. Cause twice is nice. Just this Good
1-2-3-4-5
It wasn't that Jensen hated being a vet. It was tough work, sure, but he was pretty good at it, and if the money hadn't started rolling in he could say it was because he was just getting started. The problem was that it seemed to be the kind of job most people viewed as a calling, the grand culmination of lifelong love of animals. But if that was supposed to be the case, Jensen was pretty sure a true vet wouldn't have dread Fifi's monthly visits quite as much as he did.
Fifi was his less than affectionate nickname for a decrepit, geriatric Standard poodle, much beloved by her elderly owner, and the bane of his existence since coming to San Antonio to set up his practice. Fifi's real name was Lucy, and she had very little fur these days, let alone enough to make any of the typical poodle pom-poms. She did, however, have numerous benign tumors, five teeth, two bad kidneys, and a clear (to Jensen anyway) desire to just get on with the process of dying. Fifi's owner, Mrs. Henderson, however, firmly believed that every day with Fifi was worth it, odd smells and occasional incontinence be damned.
Suffice to say, Fifi's check ups were usually enough to nudge Jensen from a vague discontent with the state of things to ready to chuck it all and run away to Mexico. To make matters worse, it was raining today. Fifi smelled bad enough dry, but wet it was a struggle just keeping a blank face through the examination.
Listening to Fifi's lungs with a stethoscope, he swore he heard the dog give a world weary sigh as Mrs. Henderson told him, "She's really doing great. She seems to like her walks. The other day she even barked at a squirrel just like a puppy."
"Fifteen years young," Jensen said absently. Fifi had cataracts, so there's no way she actually saw a squirrel, but maybe she smelled it. Jensen closed his eyes; he shouldn't have even thought the word 'smell.'
Twenty minutes later, Jensen ushered Mrs. Henderson out the door with the usual platitudes. "Yes, I'm sure Fi-" He caught himself. "Lucy will be around for a long time yet."
"Oh, thank you, Dr. Ackles. I just don't know what I'd do without you." She looked down fondly at her dog, "Time for our mad dash through the rain again. Let's hustle, girl!"
Jensen closed the door after them and watched as they crossed the parking lot at about zero miles per hour.
"You owe me five bucks, Ackles."
Jensen dropped his head down and sighed. He turned around to find Kristen smiling at him and snapping her gum. Her blonde hair was in a tight ponytail, and her scrubs had red kissy lips on them. "I cannot believe Fifi made it another month."
"Jensen, that dog will not die. That dog is going to outlive you, okay? Just accept it."
"No way," Jensen said, shaking his head. "I'm telling you, she'll catch her death in the rain and be dead by morning. I'll give you ten next month if that dog comes in."
"You're like the worst vet ever," Kristen told him, pretending to be shocked. "Betting against a patient's life is totally against the Hippocratic oath."
"Hippocratic oath is for humans. I took the Veterinarian's Oath. Which specifically mentions relieving animal suffering."
She shrugged as if to say same difference.
Jensen dug his fists into the small his back, and stretched. "What's my next appointment?"
"Um," she looked down at her at her computer. "Heathcliff Erickson might have a urinary tract infection. His owner is going to be dropping him off at three."
Jensen frowned, "Heathcliff? Isn't that the jittery one?"
Kristen popped her gum, "Yup."
"Great."
On cue, the bell on the door rang, and Jensen turned expecting Ms. Erickson and her cat carrier. What he found instead was a tall, tall guy with an armful of kittens.
Not a pet carrier of kittens, not a box of kittens, not even a basket. An armful of five small kittens, like he just scooped them up out of a field, or plucked them one by one out of a tree. Now harvested, they seemed to have their own ideas, though. One was crawling up his jacket toward his shoulder, and another must have fallen through the guy's folded arms. The kitten had caught itself on his jeans and was just hanging there, seemingly at a loss of what to do now. The other three were just generally wiggling, and making as much racket as their small voices could possibly make.
Which, okay, that alone would have been enough to give Jensen pause for thought, but the guy was also sopping wet, damp hair curling around his face, shoulders and back of his hoodie darkened, jeans soaked up to the knee. Also, he was kind of stupidly attractive. Not that he looked stupid, not at all. More like he'd struck Jensen stupid just by standing there tall, wet, and handsome. He just didn't look at all like someone that could be real and seemed instead to be some fourteen-year-old girl's (and possibly Jensen's) idea of perfection.
"Um," Kristen said. "Can I help you?"
And then, Jesus, the guy smiled, all dimples and white teeth, and Jensen got even stupider. More stupid. Whichever.
"Yeah, hi. Um, I heard you could drop off rescue animals here? And uh, could someone maybe grab the little guy on my leg? He's kind of uh-" the guy winced. "He's kind of digging in with, you know," he jerked, suddenly, "his claws."
Jensen's stupidity was instantly cured. Because standing there and letting Kristen be the one to grab the kitten off the hot guy's jean-clad thigh would be totally, unforgivably stupid. "Yeah. Yeah, of course," he said, trying to sound friendly, but mostly sounding stilted.
The guy bent his knee up a bit, so that the kitten was a little less vertical and thus a little less in need of his claws. Jensen put one hand around its tiny body, and used the other to gently unhook the kittens paws from the denim. Kristen came into the waiting room and took the one that had made it all the way up to the guy's shoulder.
"Here, follow me," she said, brightly. "We'll put them in the empty kennel."
The three of them, kittens in tow, went into the back of the clinic. A budgie bird waiting to get picked up by its owner heard the kittens' mewling and started squawking along with them.
"Oh hush, you," Kristen said, taking a sheet of newspaper and sliding it under the empty cage. She plopped her kitten, a little gray thing with tabby stripes, inside and Jensen put his, black with white tuxedo marks, in with it and then held the door mostly shut to prevent them getting out while the guy bent down on one knee in front of the cage. He seemed a little unsure of how of how to set them down without just dropping them, and Jensen, without thinking, grabbed the one resting in the crook of the guy's elbow.
He was warm despite the damp jersey hoodie, and when Jensen's fingers brushed the guy's arm, he could tell it was firm. Firm like firm, firm like the guy was built. Jensen prayed to God he didn't blush while he and Kristen got the others in and shut the cage.
The kittens huddled in a corner and started crying loudly for a momma cat that couldn't come for them.
"Poor things," the guy said, trying to poke one large finger through the holes of the cage.
"They're alright. Just put out about being cold, wet, and hungry," Jensen said, looking up from the cage at him. And, okay, he didn't normally notice people's eyes, what was there to notice, really? But, well, this guy's eyes were just noticeable: richly colored, elegantly shaped, and looking at the kittens with sweet, earnest concern.
"I'll go get them a clean towel and mix some formula," Kristen said. Jensen glanced up at her and did not miss the fact that her eyebrows were raised clear into her bangs. Fuck. He was being obvious. He stood up and tried to sound like a professional. "We'll take care of them, Mr. uh-"
"Jared. Just call me Jared," the guy said, standing up. He smiled again and this time the full weight of it was all on Jensen, striking him dumb once more. Jared stuck his hand out and Jensen stopped thinking of how Jared's eyes totally changed shape when he smiled long enough to be civil and shake the guy's hand.
"I'm Jensen," he said, and it came out sort of like he was telling Jared something really important. Only it probably wasn't so important that they know each other's names because he'd likely never see this guy again.
He figured he might try to prolong the moment.
"So um, where did you find them?" Jensen leaned back against a table, trying to seem cool. Casual. He was pretty sure, however, that he was only succeeding in looking vaguely uncomfortable.
"My apartment complex," Jared said, looking back down at the kittens. "The people that own it are kind of dicks about stray cats." He looked up at Jensen and flushed, "Sorry."
It took Jensen a second to realize Jared was apologizing for swearing. He waved his hand dismissively.
"They put a trap out for the mom, but they either didn't know, or didn't care about her kittens. I saw them taking her away in a truck this morning, and I just, you know, I felt so bad! I totally blame Disney for anthropomorphizing everything. Even bugs have a secret life, you know? Makes you feel guilty just stepping on a snail, but jeez, six little kittens, no mom, and it's raining."
"Yeah," Jensen said, mostly thinking that this guy was just deliciously huge, the span of his shoulders alone was making Jensen's mouth water. He blinked. "Six?"
Jared nodded and then, as if thinking, furrowed his brow. "Oh! How could I forget?" He reached into the pocket of his hoodie and produced a small, sleeping ball of black fur. "This one, I think he's like, the runt or something. But he's not very- he seems sick. He's the reason I rushed over here, this place is the closest I knew of."
The kitten didn't even take up the whole of Jared's palm. It was a big palm to be sure, now that Jensen was really looking, but uh, yeah, he should think about that later. He took the kitten into his own hand, and marveled- as he always did -that something so frail and light could be a living thing with a full roster of whisper thin bones and jewel-sized organs. He could just feel its thready heartbeat against his fingertips, but for the most part it was unresponsive and not nearly as warm as a young kitten should feel.
"He's gotten too cold," Jensen said. "Kristen?" he called.
"Yeah?" She was still in the back, fussing with something.
"Can you grab a heating pad while you're at it?"
"Sure thing!"
Jensen rubbed his hand gently over the kitten's back, body heat and friction doing the job until Kristen could come with the pad. "We need to get his body temperature back up."
"Oh gosh, will he be alright?"
"Yeah, I think so. Putting him in your pocket was a good way to start."
Jared grinned at that and Jensen found himself thinking stupid thoughts again. Thirty years old and thinking things like, 'Oh my god, he's smiling at me, I should say something!' like a teenager was really not at all dignified.
Just then Kristen appeared from the back, two feeding bowls of lukewarm kitten formula in her hands, heating pad draped over her arm. Jensen took the pad from her and set the kitten down briefly on the table while he went to go plug it in. He turned it to low and grabbed a towel to use as a blanket. Turning back to the kitten he found it in Jared's hands again, cupped in one palm, while the other imitated the same motions Jensen had just done.
"Here," Jensen said, gently. "Let's get him on this."
Jared nodded and gently handed over the kitten. Jensen got it wrapped and settled on the pad, and Kristen dealt with the others, laughing as she coaxed them to eat out of the bowl, not while standing in it.
"Thank you guys so much for doing this."
"It's not a big deal," Jensen told him. "We'll take them to the Humane Society tomorrow and they'll get them set up with a home. They've got no problem placing kittens as young as these."
"They're so little," Jared sighed. "Not even on solid food."
"Well, they're actually about seven weeks," Kristen told him.
Jensen nodded, "The formula is just to get something gentle in their stomachs. Tomorrow they'll be eating soft food with gusto, I promise. Kittens bounce back from this sort of stuff all the time, don't worry."
"And this little guy?" Jared asked, setting his palm down on top of the little lump wrapped in the towel. "He'll be all right?"
"Almost definitely."
"I wish I could keep him," Jared said, stroking his finger up from the tip of the kitten's nose to his forehead. "I'm not much of a cat person, but it's like I have all these motherly instincts about him now."
Jensen snorted without really meaning to.
Jared laughed and ducked his head down in embarrassment. "Or you know, fatherly instincts. Manly, protective instincts."
"I'm sure," Jensen said. "So, why not keep him? No pet deposit for your apartment?" If Jared really wanted to keep the kitten, he'd have to come back a few times before it was ready to go home. And if he did that, Jensen could snag him as a client and have someone new to crush on, which would be good because he was so over the UPS guy.
Jared smiled again; it was like it was just always under the surface, waiting to break through. Which was fine. It was an awesome smile. "More like two big dogs that would probably want to play with him a lot more than he would want to play with them."
"Ah," Jensen said. Brilliant. This was why he never dated, because he couldn't flirt worth a damn. What was he supposed to say now? 'So you like animals? Hey, so do I! Want to go to dinner? We can talk about pets… I can try to figure out if you're gay… it'll be great!'
The bell on the door rang again and Jensen could tell from the sound of the heels clicking on the linoleum of the waiting room floor that this time it was definitely Ms. Erickson. Kristen left to go check her in while Jensen stared at Jared like he was the really nice cake his mom had made for her book club, one he wouldn't get even a single slice of.
"Well," Jared said, scratching his fingers into his wet hair. "Uh, jeez, I really don't want to leave just yet, but I've got to uh, I gotta shower and get ready for this thing and-"
"Yeah," Jensen said, going for nonchalant and coming up with bizarrely enthusiastic. "Well, thanks for bringing them in." He went and held the door open, letting Jared into the waiting room. "We'll take good care of them."
"Awesome. It was nice meeting you."
"The pleasure was ours, really," Kristen said, actually winking. How did she do that? It was over the top and cheesy, but also tongue in cheek and playful. Jared didn't seem to mind it at all, just laughed and waved good-bye before jogging out into the rain.
Kristen looked over at Jensen, one eyebrow raised in a clear question and Jensen stared back, daring her to ask.
"Well," Ms. Erickson said, suddenly breaking the silence. "He was certainly a tall drink of water."
"Yeah," Jensen laughed. "He was."
---
"I can't believe you didn't ask him out!"
"Kristen," Jensen moaned. He hoisted his caramel macchiato up for a long, deep sip. He'd already spent last night cataloguing his failures, hence the calorie-laden, sugar-sweet, morning indulgence instead of his usual venti red-eye. Still, even caramel wasn't going to help if Kristen was going to pull a Mama Ackles on him. "Who even does that? Just asks a total stranger out in the middle of a normal conversation?"
"Plenty of people!"
"In bars! At parties. It was three o' clock on a Wednesday in a vet's office that smelled like old, wet dog."
"He was totally into you!" Kristen was sweeping the waiting room up.
"You're making that up." Jensen said, shaking his head. He could be sure of that, as he'd replayed yesterday's events from start to finish in his mind (complete with notes on Jared's wardrobe) about a million times and each time came to same conclusion: the guy was adorable, sexy, and really obviously straight. The shoes alone were a pretty good indicator.
"I am not," Kristen insisted. "He barely even talked to me; he was so busy looking at you."
Jensen didn't know what to say to that, so he settled on another long sip of coffee. It was nothing but the sweet dregs now.
"Jensen, you never date," she told him, putting her hands on her small hips. Her scrubs today were blue with a print of goldfish in a bowl.
He sighed. "Kristen, I love you. You keep this place running despite my complete lack of enthusiasm, but I seriously already have a mom that loves to point out depressing facts like that."
"That's not fair. She's still laboring under the delusion that you haven't met the right girl, she can't give you good advice like I can."
Jensen finished his coffee and threw it in the trash. "It's not a delusion. Technically I haven't. And probably won't ever."
Kristen rolled her eyes, "You're not single because there's anything wrong with you, it's because you never put yourself out there. When's the last time you even went out?"
"Hello, small business owner here? I go out all the time, this place goes even more to hell, you lose your job. You should thank me for my dedication." That was about the same excuse he used on his mother when she asked him that question.
Unfortunately, Kristen also ignored it completely. "You're always just waiting for something to happen. And then, when something actually does 'just happen' and a hot guy with a soft spot for kittens just wanders into this cave of a vet's office and smiles at you, you let him go without asking him out!"
And they were back to square one. "Keep this up and I'm going to sneak horse tranquilizers in your coffee."
"Just promise me the next time you ever meet a guy like that, you grow a set and ask him out."
The doorbell rang and for the second time Jensen turned expecting a middle-aged woman with a house cat only to find Jared. This time Jared was empty-handed, completely dry, and already smiling.
"Hi, again. Uh, I don't know if you guys are open but-"
"Let me guess, you found a litter of puppies in desperate need of rescue?" Jensen was really only half kidding.
Jared laughed and scratched at his hair nervously. Even dry - possibly brushed - it was wild, Jensen noted, all curls and waves and cowlicks. "No, no, nothing like that. I just wanted to stop by before work and see the little guys again. Did you already take them to the Humane Society?"
Jared stood there looking a hopeful and a little uncomfortable during the two second delay while Jensen's brain switched from "minute details of Jared's appearance" to "right, kittens."
"Uh, no, no," he said. "They're still here. Come back and see 'em."
"Is that okay?"
"Sure," Jensen said, when what he really wanted to say was 'I could eat you alive.' God, this guy was cute. "They're right in here."
He opened the door and let Jared through and okay, Jared must be freshly showered or something because he smelled awesome. Really awesome. Again, Jensen didn't generally notice how people smelled unless there was something seriously wrong, like too much cologne, or a really ripe b.o., but Jared smelled like sweet shampoo, clean laundry, and something warm and spicy.
Jensen glanced at Kristin and the look on her face could be summed up in just two words: Do it. Jensen made no promises and followed Jared into the back room.
He found Jared crouched in front of the cage, pinky finger wiggled through one of the holes in the bars. The bravest of the kittens were inching forward to sniff at it before arching their backs in a playful threat, or batting at it with their paws. The runt of the litter was curled up on the blanket in the corner, looking up at Jared sleepily.
"Hey little guy," Jared said.
"Girl, actually."
Jared looked up, "Oh yeah?"
"Mmhmm," Jensen came over and squatted next to Jared. "We checked them out last night and Tiny over there is definitely a girl."
"Tiny?"
Jensen shrugged, "There are two black ones so… one's Blackie and one's Tiny. That one," Jensen said pointing to the one white kitten, "is Whitey, and the gray one with stripes is Stripey, and the gray one without stripes is Smokey, and the long-haired gray is Fluffy."
"Clever," Jared said, dryly.
Jensen laughed, "Yeah, well, it's just temporary. They'll get good names after they're adopted. Kristen is going to be taking them to the Humane Society on her lunch break. "
Jared nodded and peered at the kittens again. "Even Tiny?"
"Yeah, she's fine really. Perked right up once we got her body temperature up and put a little food in her.She's just tuckered out by the whole experience." Jensen snuck a look at Jared's profile and yeah, even his nose was adorable.
"Can I-?" Jared gestured to the cage door and Jensen wasn't about to deny him a thing.
"Yeah, of course," Jensen said as Jared unlatched the cage. "Fair warning though: they're going to make a run for it."
Jared laughed as he opened the door and, just as Jensen predicted, five of the kittens instantly turned into little escape artists. Jensen put his hands out, trying to keep them corralled while Jared reached inside to pick up Tiny. Once she was lifted out (with infinite care, Jensen couldn't help but notice) Jared tried to close the door and in doing so brushed his hand across one of Jensen's, the pads of his fingertips swiping right across Jensen's knuckles.
Sparks, electricity, magic, probably fireworks, and Jensen had to try to keep any of it from registering on his face while he helped Jared with the tricky latch on the cage door. When he was relatively sure that his eyes were just eyes and not little cartoon hearts, he looked back up at Jared and well, fuck. Jared had the little black cat in his palm and was holding her right up to his face. His expression was pretty much exactly the same one Jensen had seen on every single six-year-old kid that ever walked into this place. Jared was petting Tiny's face gently with the tip of his finger. It wasn't long at all before she decided he might be okay after all and started nuzzling into it, grateful for the affection. Jensen was pretty sure it was just all over for him. He was dead.
"I hope they don't have to stay at the shelter for very long," Jared said, rubbing the velveteen cups of Tiny's ears with his thumb and forefinger.
"Yeah," Jensen said, sounding completely airheaded because he wasn't thinking at all about what Jared was saying, just how he was saying it. The way he twisted his mouth around some words was incredible. He realized he was staring. Possibly drooling. He cleared his throat. "Probably not. They're young and sweet and have a clean bill of health."
Jared nodded and looked Tiny right in her green eyes. "You stay awesome, okay? Don't turn into one of those lame, mean cats."
The kitten yawned at Jared's instructions and Jared put her back in the cage, setting her right back down into the blanket.
"I guess should go to work," he said, standing.
It was on the tip of Jensen's tongue to ask, "Where do you work?" but he felt suddenly shy. He'd told himself a hundred times last night that if he ever saw Jared again, he'd make a better impression on him, but now? Now it just seemed like a bad idea. He could put himself out there, sure, but Jared was obviously young, busy, and possibly even a bit innocent. He didn't really need Jensen throwing himself at him on a rushed Thursday morning. He could see Kristen in the background, shuffling papers and giving him pointed looks, but all Jensen could think about was the disappointment of getting shot down.
"Yeah, well, don't want to be late," he said instead.
"I had to cut so many corners this morning." Jared headed towards the door. "Gave the dogs just a five minute walk instead of the full jog, gotta stop on the way to work and get breakfast tacos, but I just had to see him again."
"Her," Jensen corrected, following Jared out into the waiting room.
Jared laughed. "Right." He stood in front of the door for a moment then said, "Well, I-"
"Hey, Jared," Kristen said suddenly. She was leaning out of the appointment window, smiling and showing all her teeth.
"Yeah?"
"You said you had dogs, right?" She looked briefly away from Jared to Jensen and Jensen did everything he could to put the letters 'n' and 'o' on his face.
"Yeah, two," Jared said. "Sadie and Harley."
"And didn't you say this was the closest vet's office to your place?"
"Yeah." Jared nodded absently, not exactly following her line of logic.
"Kristen," Jensen warned. He could see exactly where this was going.
"Well," Kristen said brightly. "Why aren't you bringing them to us?"
"Oh," Jared said. "Well I mean, I just moved into this part of town, and I've been going to Dr. McGehee for years, and, uh-"
Kristen, to her credit, didn't make any arguments, just kept smiling at him with an "aw, come on" expression while Jensen just kept hoping his seven-fifteen appointment, two three-month-old German Shepard puppies, would get here already and make a big enough commotion that they could all just laugh and get on with their lives and pretend that no one had a particular desire to see anyone here again. Nope, not at all. He could totally never see Kristen again and not be bothered.
"You know," Jared said, placing his palm flat on the door and pushing it open just a little. "I'll think about it."
"Please do," Kristen called after him as he left. She had just enough time to give Jensen a smug look before those two puppies finally pulled their owner through the door and started barking.
1-2-3-4-5
Author: Miss Kitty E.
Fandom: SPN RPS
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Rating: 90% R for occasional language, with NC-17 in the last part.
Word Count: 26,403
Disclaimer: I did not dream Jared and Jensen into existence, but I would have had they not already been running around being real people.
Author's Notes: I was moaning about how the only thing that could possibly cheer me up was Jared Padalecki with an armful of kittens and Merrin said that was brilliant and as we talked this story sort decided to be written. I told myself the world doesn't really need another J2 romance novel, but it was such a damn fun thing to escape into that I wrote it in mere days. Title was inspired by Marc Broussard.
This is supposed to be dedicated to Merrin and it is, but I should say that while the word dedicated implies this fic is just serenading her from a stage, I really think the relationship between her and this fic is more like that of an stern aunt and young nephew. She loves it, but she'll smack it between the shoulder blades and tell it to "Straighten up!" if it starts slouching. Her beta really pushed me to improve something I viewed mostly as fluff.
My great thanks to Kate for reading through and for dealing with my insecurities with surprisingly endless patience.
Check it out, I wrote another installment in the 'verse. Cause twice is nice. Just this Good
1-2-3-4-5
It wasn't that Jensen hated being a vet. It was tough work, sure, but he was pretty good at it, and if the money hadn't started rolling in he could say it was because he was just getting started. The problem was that it seemed to be the kind of job most people viewed as a calling, the grand culmination of lifelong love of animals. But if that was supposed to be the case, Jensen was pretty sure a true vet wouldn't have dread Fifi's monthly visits quite as much as he did.
Fifi was his less than affectionate nickname for a decrepit, geriatric Standard poodle, much beloved by her elderly owner, and the bane of his existence since coming to San Antonio to set up his practice. Fifi's real name was Lucy, and she had very little fur these days, let alone enough to make any of the typical poodle pom-poms. She did, however, have numerous benign tumors, five teeth, two bad kidneys, and a clear (to Jensen anyway) desire to just get on with the process of dying. Fifi's owner, Mrs. Henderson, however, firmly believed that every day with Fifi was worth it, odd smells and occasional incontinence be damned.
Suffice to say, Fifi's check ups were usually enough to nudge Jensen from a vague discontent with the state of things to ready to chuck it all and run away to Mexico. To make matters worse, it was raining today. Fifi smelled bad enough dry, but wet it was a struggle just keeping a blank face through the examination.
Listening to Fifi's lungs with a stethoscope, he swore he heard the dog give a world weary sigh as Mrs. Henderson told him, "She's really doing great. She seems to like her walks. The other day she even barked at a squirrel just like a puppy."
"Fifteen years young," Jensen said absently. Fifi had cataracts, so there's no way she actually saw a squirrel, but maybe she smelled it. Jensen closed his eyes; he shouldn't have even thought the word 'smell.'
Twenty minutes later, Jensen ushered Mrs. Henderson out the door with the usual platitudes. "Yes, I'm sure Fi-" He caught himself. "Lucy will be around for a long time yet."
"Oh, thank you, Dr. Ackles. I just don't know what I'd do without you." She looked down fondly at her dog, "Time for our mad dash through the rain again. Let's hustle, girl!"
Jensen closed the door after them and watched as they crossed the parking lot at about zero miles per hour.
"You owe me five bucks, Ackles."
Jensen dropped his head down and sighed. He turned around to find Kristen smiling at him and snapping her gum. Her blonde hair was in a tight ponytail, and her scrubs had red kissy lips on them. "I cannot believe Fifi made it another month."
"Jensen, that dog will not die. That dog is going to outlive you, okay? Just accept it."
"No way," Jensen said, shaking his head. "I'm telling you, she'll catch her death in the rain and be dead by morning. I'll give you ten next month if that dog comes in."
"You're like the worst vet ever," Kristen told him, pretending to be shocked. "Betting against a patient's life is totally against the Hippocratic oath."
"Hippocratic oath is for humans. I took the Veterinarian's Oath. Which specifically mentions relieving animal suffering."
She shrugged as if to say same difference.
Jensen dug his fists into the small his back, and stretched. "What's my next appointment?"
"Um," she looked down at her at her computer. "Heathcliff Erickson might have a urinary tract infection. His owner is going to be dropping him off at three."
Jensen frowned, "Heathcliff? Isn't that the jittery one?"
Kristen popped her gum, "Yup."
"Great."
On cue, the bell on the door rang, and Jensen turned expecting Ms. Erickson and her cat carrier. What he found instead was a tall, tall guy with an armful of kittens.
Not a pet carrier of kittens, not a box of kittens, not even a basket. An armful of five small kittens, like he just scooped them up out of a field, or plucked them one by one out of a tree. Now harvested, they seemed to have their own ideas, though. One was crawling up his jacket toward his shoulder, and another must have fallen through the guy's folded arms. The kitten had caught itself on his jeans and was just hanging there, seemingly at a loss of what to do now. The other three were just generally wiggling, and making as much racket as their small voices could possibly make.
Which, okay, that alone would have been enough to give Jensen pause for thought, but the guy was also sopping wet, damp hair curling around his face, shoulders and back of his hoodie darkened, jeans soaked up to the knee. Also, he was kind of stupidly attractive. Not that he looked stupid, not at all. More like he'd struck Jensen stupid just by standing there tall, wet, and handsome. He just didn't look at all like someone that could be real and seemed instead to be some fourteen-year-old girl's (and possibly Jensen's) idea of perfection.
"Um," Kristen said. "Can I help you?"
And then, Jesus, the guy smiled, all dimples and white teeth, and Jensen got even stupider. More stupid. Whichever.
"Yeah, hi. Um, I heard you could drop off rescue animals here? And uh, could someone maybe grab the little guy on my leg? He's kind of uh-" the guy winced. "He's kind of digging in with, you know," he jerked, suddenly, "his claws."
Jensen's stupidity was instantly cured. Because standing there and letting Kristen be the one to grab the kitten off the hot guy's jean-clad thigh would be totally, unforgivably stupid. "Yeah. Yeah, of course," he said, trying to sound friendly, but mostly sounding stilted.
The guy bent his knee up a bit, so that the kitten was a little less vertical and thus a little less in need of his claws. Jensen put one hand around its tiny body, and used the other to gently unhook the kittens paws from the denim. Kristen came into the waiting room and took the one that had made it all the way up to the guy's shoulder.
"Here, follow me," she said, brightly. "We'll put them in the empty kennel."
The three of them, kittens in tow, went into the back of the clinic. A budgie bird waiting to get picked up by its owner heard the kittens' mewling and started squawking along with them.
"Oh hush, you," Kristen said, taking a sheet of newspaper and sliding it under the empty cage. She plopped her kitten, a little gray thing with tabby stripes, inside and Jensen put his, black with white tuxedo marks, in with it and then held the door mostly shut to prevent them getting out while the guy bent down on one knee in front of the cage. He seemed a little unsure of how of how to set them down without just dropping them, and Jensen, without thinking, grabbed the one resting in the crook of the guy's elbow.
He was warm despite the damp jersey hoodie, and when Jensen's fingers brushed the guy's arm, he could tell it was firm. Firm like firm, firm like the guy was built. Jensen prayed to God he didn't blush while he and Kristen got the others in and shut the cage.
The kittens huddled in a corner and started crying loudly for a momma cat that couldn't come for them.
"Poor things," the guy said, trying to poke one large finger through the holes of the cage.
"They're alright. Just put out about being cold, wet, and hungry," Jensen said, looking up from the cage at him. And, okay, he didn't normally notice people's eyes, what was there to notice, really? But, well, this guy's eyes were just noticeable: richly colored, elegantly shaped, and looking at the kittens with sweet, earnest concern.
"I'll go get them a clean towel and mix some formula," Kristen said. Jensen glanced up at her and did not miss the fact that her eyebrows were raised clear into her bangs. Fuck. He was being obvious. He stood up and tried to sound like a professional. "We'll take care of them, Mr. uh-"
"Jared. Just call me Jared," the guy said, standing up. He smiled again and this time the full weight of it was all on Jensen, striking him dumb once more. Jared stuck his hand out and Jensen stopped thinking of how Jared's eyes totally changed shape when he smiled long enough to be civil and shake the guy's hand.
"I'm Jensen," he said, and it came out sort of like he was telling Jared something really important. Only it probably wasn't so important that they know each other's names because he'd likely never see this guy again.
He figured he might try to prolong the moment.
"So um, where did you find them?" Jensen leaned back against a table, trying to seem cool. Casual. He was pretty sure, however, that he was only succeeding in looking vaguely uncomfortable.
"My apartment complex," Jared said, looking back down at the kittens. "The people that own it are kind of dicks about stray cats." He looked up at Jensen and flushed, "Sorry."
It took Jensen a second to realize Jared was apologizing for swearing. He waved his hand dismissively.
"They put a trap out for the mom, but they either didn't know, or didn't care about her kittens. I saw them taking her away in a truck this morning, and I just, you know, I felt so bad! I totally blame Disney for anthropomorphizing everything. Even bugs have a secret life, you know? Makes you feel guilty just stepping on a snail, but jeez, six little kittens, no mom, and it's raining."
"Yeah," Jensen said, mostly thinking that this guy was just deliciously huge, the span of his shoulders alone was making Jensen's mouth water. He blinked. "Six?"
Jared nodded and then, as if thinking, furrowed his brow. "Oh! How could I forget?" He reached into the pocket of his hoodie and produced a small, sleeping ball of black fur. "This one, I think he's like, the runt or something. But he's not very- he seems sick. He's the reason I rushed over here, this place is the closest I knew of."
The kitten didn't even take up the whole of Jared's palm. It was a big palm to be sure, now that Jensen was really looking, but uh, yeah, he should think about that later. He took the kitten into his own hand, and marveled- as he always did -that something so frail and light could be a living thing with a full roster of whisper thin bones and jewel-sized organs. He could just feel its thready heartbeat against his fingertips, but for the most part it was unresponsive and not nearly as warm as a young kitten should feel.
"He's gotten too cold," Jensen said. "Kristen?" he called.
"Yeah?" She was still in the back, fussing with something.
"Can you grab a heating pad while you're at it?"
"Sure thing!"
Jensen rubbed his hand gently over the kitten's back, body heat and friction doing the job until Kristen could come with the pad. "We need to get his body temperature back up."
"Oh gosh, will he be alright?"
"Yeah, I think so. Putting him in your pocket was a good way to start."
Jared grinned at that and Jensen found himself thinking stupid thoughts again. Thirty years old and thinking things like, 'Oh my god, he's smiling at me, I should say something!' like a teenager was really not at all dignified.
Just then Kristen appeared from the back, two feeding bowls of lukewarm kitten formula in her hands, heating pad draped over her arm. Jensen took the pad from her and set the kitten down briefly on the table while he went to go plug it in. He turned it to low and grabbed a towel to use as a blanket. Turning back to the kitten he found it in Jared's hands again, cupped in one palm, while the other imitated the same motions Jensen had just done.
"Here," Jensen said, gently. "Let's get him on this."
Jared nodded and gently handed over the kitten. Jensen got it wrapped and settled on the pad, and Kristen dealt with the others, laughing as she coaxed them to eat out of the bowl, not while standing in it.
"Thank you guys so much for doing this."
"It's not a big deal," Jensen told him. "We'll take them to the Humane Society tomorrow and they'll get them set up with a home. They've got no problem placing kittens as young as these."
"They're so little," Jared sighed. "Not even on solid food."
"Well, they're actually about seven weeks," Kristen told him.
Jensen nodded, "The formula is just to get something gentle in their stomachs. Tomorrow they'll be eating soft food with gusto, I promise. Kittens bounce back from this sort of stuff all the time, don't worry."
"And this little guy?" Jared asked, setting his palm down on top of the little lump wrapped in the towel. "He'll be all right?"
"Almost definitely."
"I wish I could keep him," Jared said, stroking his finger up from the tip of the kitten's nose to his forehead. "I'm not much of a cat person, but it's like I have all these motherly instincts about him now."
Jensen snorted without really meaning to.
Jared laughed and ducked his head down in embarrassment. "Or you know, fatherly instincts. Manly, protective instincts."
"I'm sure," Jensen said. "So, why not keep him? No pet deposit for your apartment?" If Jared really wanted to keep the kitten, he'd have to come back a few times before it was ready to go home. And if he did that, Jensen could snag him as a client and have someone new to crush on, which would be good because he was so over the UPS guy.
Jared smiled again; it was like it was just always under the surface, waiting to break through. Which was fine. It was an awesome smile. "More like two big dogs that would probably want to play with him a lot more than he would want to play with them."
"Ah," Jensen said. Brilliant. This was why he never dated, because he couldn't flirt worth a damn. What was he supposed to say now? 'So you like animals? Hey, so do I! Want to go to dinner? We can talk about pets… I can try to figure out if you're gay… it'll be great!'
The bell on the door rang again and Jensen could tell from the sound of the heels clicking on the linoleum of the waiting room floor that this time it was definitely Ms. Erickson. Kristen left to go check her in while Jensen stared at Jared like he was the really nice cake his mom had made for her book club, one he wouldn't get even a single slice of.
"Well," Jared said, scratching his fingers into his wet hair. "Uh, jeez, I really don't want to leave just yet, but I've got to uh, I gotta shower and get ready for this thing and-"
"Yeah," Jensen said, going for nonchalant and coming up with bizarrely enthusiastic. "Well, thanks for bringing them in." He went and held the door open, letting Jared into the waiting room. "We'll take good care of them."
"Awesome. It was nice meeting you."
"The pleasure was ours, really," Kristen said, actually winking. How did she do that? It was over the top and cheesy, but also tongue in cheek and playful. Jared didn't seem to mind it at all, just laughed and waved good-bye before jogging out into the rain.
Kristen looked over at Jensen, one eyebrow raised in a clear question and Jensen stared back, daring her to ask.
"Well," Ms. Erickson said, suddenly breaking the silence. "He was certainly a tall drink of water."
"Yeah," Jensen laughed. "He was."
---
"I can't believe you didn't ask him out!"
"Kristen," Jensen moaned. He hoisted his caramel macchiato up for a long, deep sip. He'd already spent last night cataloguing his failures, hence the calorie-laden, sugar-sweet, morning indulgence instead of his usual venti red-eye. Still, even caramel wasn't going to help if Kristen was going to pull a Mama Ackles on him. "Who even does that? Just asks a total stranger out in the middle of a normal conversation?"
"Plenty of people!"
"In bars! At parties. It was three o' clock on a Wednesday in a vet's office that smelled like old, wet dog."
"He was totally into you!" Kristen was sweeping the waiting room up.
"You're making that up." Jensen said, shaking his head. He could be sure of that, as he'd replayed yesterday's events from start to finish in his mind (complete with notes on Jared's wardrobe) about a million times and each time came to same conclusion: the guy was adorable, sexy, and really obviously straight. The shoes alone were a pretty good indicator.
"I am not," Kristen insisted. "He barely even talked to me; he was so busy looking at you."
Jensen didn't know what to say to that, so he settled on another long sip of coffee. It was nothing but the sweet dregs now.
"Jensen, you never date," she told him, putting her hands on her small hips. Her scrubs today were blue with a print of goldfish in a bowl.
He sighed. "Kristen, I love you. You keep this place running despite my complete lack of enthusiasm, but I seriously already have a mom that loves to point out depressing facts like that."
"That's not fair. She's still laboring under the delusion that you haven't met the right girl, she can't give you good advice like I can."
Jensen finished his coffee and threw it in the trash. "It's not a delusion. Technically I haven't. And probably won't ever."
Kristen rolled her eyes, "You're not single because there's anything wrong with you, it's because you never put yourself out there. When's the last time you even went out?"
"Hello, small business owner here? I go out all the time, this place goes even more to hell, you lose your job. You should thank me for my dedication." That was about the same excuse he used on his mother when she asked him that question.
Unfortunately, Kristen also ignored it completely. "You're always just waiting for something to happen. And then, when something actually does 'just happen' and a hot guy with a soft spot for kittens just wanders into this cave of a vet's office and smiles at you, you let him go without asking him out!"
And they were back to square one. "Keep this up and I'm going to sneak horse tranquilizers in your coffee."
"Just promise me the next time you ever meet a guy like that, you grow a set and ask him out."
The doorbell rang and for the second time Jensen turned expecting a middle-aged woman with a house cat only to find Jared. This time Jared was empty-handed, completely dry, and already smiling.
"Hi, again. Uh, I don't know if you guys are open but-"
"Let me guess, you found a litter of puppies in desperate need of rescue?" Jensen was really only half kidding.
Jared laughed and scratched at his hair nervously. Even dry - possibly brushed - it was wild, Jensen noted, all curls and waves and cowlicks. "No, no, nothing like that. I just wanted to stop by before work and see the little guys again. Did you already take them to the Humane Society?"
Jared stood there looking a hopeful and a little uncomfortable during the two second delay while Jensen's brain switched from "minute details of Jared's appearance" to "right, kittens."
"Uh, no, no," he said. "They're still here. Come back and see 'em."
"Is that okay?"
"Sure," Jensen said, when what he really wanted to say was 'I could eat you alive.' God, this guy was cute. "They're right in here."
He opened the door and let Jared through and okay, Jared must be freshly showered or something because he smelled awesome. Really awesome. Again, Jensen didn't generally notice how people smelled unless there was something seriously wrong, like too much cologne, or a really ripe b.o., but Jared smelled like sweet shampoo, clean laundry, and something warm and spicy.
Jensen glanced at Kristin and the look on her face could be summed up in just two words: Do it. Jensen made no promises and followed Jared into the back room.
He found Jared crouched in front of the cage, pinky finger wiggled through one of the holes in the bars. The bravest of the kittens were inching forward to sniff at it before arching their backs in a playful threat, or batting at it with their paws. The runt of the litter was curled up on the blanket in the corner, looking up at Jared sleepily.
"Hey little guy," Jared said.
"Girl, actually."
Jared looked up, "Oh yeah?"
"Mmhmm," Jensen came over and squatted next to Jared. "We checked them out last night and Tiny over there is definitely a girl."
"Tiny?"
Jensen shrugged, "There are two black ones so… one's Blackie and one's Tiny. That one," Jensen said pointing to the one white kitten, "is Whitey, and the gray one with stripes is Stripey, and the gray one without stripes is Smokey, and the long-haired gray is Fluffy."
"Clever," Jared said, dryly.
Jensen laughed, "Yeah, well, it's just temporary. They'll get good names after they're adopted. Kristen is going to be taking them to the Humane Society on her lunch break. "
Jared nodded and peered at the kittens again. "Even Tiny?"
"Yeah, she's fine really. Perked right up once we got her body temperature up and put a little food in her.She's just tuckered out by the whole experience." Jensen snuck a look at Jared's profile and yeah, even his nose was adorable.
"Can I-?" Jared gestured to the cage door and Jensen wasn't about to deny him a thing.
"Yeah, of course," Jensen said as Jared unlatched the cage. "Fair warning though: they're going to make a run for it."
Jared laughed as he opened the door and, just as Jensen predicted, five of the kittens instantly turned into little escape artists. Jensen put his hands out, trying to keep them corralled while Jared reached inside to pick up Tiny. Once she was lifted out (with infinite care, Jensen couldn't help but notice) Jared tried to close the door and in doing so brushed his hand across one of Jensen's, the pads of his fingertips swiping right across Jensen's knuckles.
Sparks, electricity, magic, probably fireworks, and Jensen had to try to keep any of it from registering on his face while he helped Jared with the tricky latch on the cage door. When he was relatively sure that his eyes were just eyes and not little cartoon hearts, he looked back up at Jared and well, fuck. Jared had the little black cat in his palm and was holding her right up to his face. His expression was pretty much exactly the same one Jensen had seen on every single six-year-old kid that ever walked into this place. Jared was petting Tiny's face gently with the tip of his finger. It wasn't long at all before she decided he might be okay after all and started nuzzling into it, grateful for the affection. Jensen was pretty sure it was just all over for him. He was dead.
"I hope they don't have to stay at the shelter for very long," Jared said, rubbing the velveteen cups of Tiny's ears with his thumb and forefinger.
"Yeah," Jensen said, sounding completely airheaded because he wasn't thinking at all about what Jared was saying, just how he was saying it. The way he twisted his mouth around some words was incredible. He realized he was staring. Possibly drooling. He cleared his throat. "Probably not. They're young and sweet and have a clean bill of health."
Jared nodded and looked Tiny right in her green eyes. "You stay awesome, okay? Don't turn into one of those lame, mean cats."
The kitten yawned at Jared's instructions and Jared put her back in the cage, setting her right back down into the blanket.
"I guess should go to work," he said, standing.
It was on the tip of Jensen's tongue to ask, "Where do you work?" but he felt suddenly shy. He'd told himself a hundred times last night that if he ever saw Jared again, he'd make a better impression on him, but now? Now it just seemed like a bad idea. He could put himself out there, sure, but Jared was obviously young, busy, and possibly even a bit innocent. He didn't really need Jensen throwing himself at him on a rushed Thursday morning. He could see Kristen in the background, shuffling papers and giving him pointed looks, but all Jensen could think about was the disappointment of getting shot down.
"Yeah, well, don't want to be late," he said instead.
"I had to cut so many corners this morning." Jared headed towards the door. "Gave the dogs just a five minute walk instead of the full jog, gotta stop on the way to work and get breakfast tacos, but I just had to see him again."
"Her," Jensen corrected, following Jared out into the waiting room.
Jared laughed. "Right." He stood in front of the door for a moment then said, "Well, I-"
"Hey, Jared," Kristen said suddenly. She was leaning out of the appointment window, smiling and showing all her teeth.
"Yeah?"
"You said you had dogs, right?" She looked briefly away from Jared to Jensen and Jensen did everything he could to put the letters 'n' and 'o' on his face.
"Yeah, two," Jared said. "Sadie and Harley."
"And didn't you say this was the closest vet's office to your place?"
"Yeah." Jared nodded absently, not exactly following her line of logic.
"Kristen," Jensen warned. He could see exactly where this was going.
"Well," Kristen said brightly. "Why aren't you bringing them to us?"
"Oh," Jared said. "Well I mean, I just moved into this part of town, and I've been going to Dr. McGehee for years, and, uh-"
Kristen, to her credit, didn't make any arguments, just kept smiling at him with an "aw, come on" expression while Jensen just kept hoping his seven-fifteen appointment, two three-month-old German Shepard puppies, would get here already and make a big enough commotion that they could all just laugh and get on with their lives and pretend that no one had a particular desire to see anyone here again. Nope, not at all. He could totally never see Kristen again and not be bothered.
"You know," Jared said, placing his palm flat on the door and pushing it open just a little. "I'll think about it."
"Please do," Kristen called after him as he left. She had just enough time to give Jensen a smug look before those two puppies finally pulled their owner through the door and started barking.
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