The Play Nice Proviso: Epilogue
"Minion alert, Jay.”
“Aww, shoot. And just when we wanted to tell Eric too.”
“Great. It’s like the whole gang’s here,” Jensen grumbled as he watched Eric, Bob, Phil, McG and Sera Gamble strolling towards them, the Minions bringing up the rear, stiff and weirdly synchronized as always. He felt a pang of loss as he thought of Kim Manners, and how he was still missed by them all.
Both he and Jared had known Eric was going to be around their first day back on the set of Season Five and they had really wanted him to be the first person they broke the news too. Jensen glanced at his husband of a mere month, not at all surprised to find Jared looking back, his heart on his sleeve and love in his eyes. Sap.
“You keep looking at me like that and we won’t have to say a word, Jay.” Jared’s dimpled smirk shot desire through him with a skill that Jared had honed whilst they had been honeymooning in Mexico. Not that Jensen minded. He had developed his own arsenal of mad skills when it came to Jared.
“Dude, are we gonna tell everyone?” Jared asked hesitantly.
“They’re the producers and the Network execs. Tell one, you tell ‘em all anyways,” Jensen replied. “Let’s see how it pans out. It’s not like we’re going to advertise our big gay love or anything. We’re just not hiding it.” He looked at the resolute expressions on the faces of the Minions. “Jesus. Why do I get the ominous feeling we’re going to have to sign another goddamned contract when we tell them?”
Jared laughed. “Maybe they’ll put in a new addendum: the ‘Don’t Play Nice’ Proviso.”
“Or the ‘No Play’ Proviso, wherein both parties must pretend not to be in love and married whilst on Network-owned property.”
“Do not even joke about that, Jen. I’d rather quit the show,” Jared intoned quietly but seriously as the collective approached them. He slung his arm around Jensen’s shoulders and Jensen leaned into his side as was par for the course.
“Hey guys!” Eric and the other producers greeted them happily. The Minions stood back as small talk and hugs were exchanged. At the first lull in the conversation, Number Three stepped forward and intently stared them down. Jared’s grip on his shoulder tightened at the same time as Jensen’s own hold on his husband’s waist did. Then the Minions smirked at them.
Jensen and Jared blinked as one, both stunned speechless as Three spoke to them for the first time in almost five years. “Misters Ackles-Padalecki.”
“Huh?” Eric looked rather adorably befuddled as he looked at his fellow producers. “Weird. I coulda sworn he said...”
“Congratulations on your recent nuptials, gentlemen,” Three continued in his deep, rich voice as he ignored a very bewildered production team. Three’s eyebrow crooked up questioningly.
“Er...” Jared began, and Jensen could have kissed him for taking over the reins of the conversation. Then of course he went and said, “Jensen?” Shit.
“Thank you,” he managed to grit out, trying to gage the Minions’ reactions, and wondered how the fuck they had found out. They appeared very serene though. O-kay.
“I repeat: Huh?” Eric, well, repeated.
“Wait. What now?” Phil asked.
“Er, yeah. What he said.” Bob piped up.
Ladies and Gentlemen, the creative team of Supernatural.
Jensen took a deep breath and let the words gust out. “We got married over the summer.”
“Both of you?” Sera asked, a happy smile lighting up her features. “Figures. Competitive bastards, just like Sammy and Dean.
Congratulations, boys! Who’re the lucky girls?”
“Did you guys have a double wedding?” McG joked. “’Cause that shit would be funny.”
“Umm,” Jared tried valiantly to contribute to the conversation. Jensen flashed him an encouraging smile. “We got married to each other. See?” Jared grabbed Jensen’s left had in his and brandished their matching wedding bands in their bosses’ incredulous faces.
“Fuck,” Eric said.
“Holy fuck,” McG felt obligated to clarify.
“Holy fuckity fuck,” Phil pointed out, just to be a wiseass.
“The fans are gonna shit their pants,” Bob added his two cents.
“Gross, Robert.” Sera grimaced. “And forget the fans for a moment. You guys each owe me fifty bucks. Pay up.”
“What?” Jensen found his voice as he and Jared glared at their producers in astonishment.
“Subtext, boys, subtext,” Sera explained, gleefully pocketing her money. “No way Supernatural is the ‘Epic Love Story of Sam and Dean Winchester’ if Jensen and Jared Ackles-Padalecki don’t play those roles. I’ve always said we’ve got the smartest fans.”
“Indeed,” Three interjected, butting back into the conversation and Jensen felt his spidey senses tingling. “Relax, Mr. Ackles-Padalecki...,” the Minion paused momentarily. “Hmm. You’re both Misters’ Ackles-Padalecki. However shall we tell you two apart? Oh, I know,” he smirked at them - and it wasn’t really evil. It actually bordered on friendly. He pointed at Jensen. “You can be One and your husband can be Two,” he grinned at them, his fellow Minions following suit.
Jesus. Beside him, Jared choked on air.
Three fucking laughed, looking more human than Jensen had ever seen him. “Relax, Number One. We’re just here to deliver your new contracts. It’s that time of the year again.”
“Aww, shit,” Jared muttered from Jensen’s side, taking the words right out of his mouth. Jensen took his envelope from Three and pulled out the contract, flicking through the pages with a practiced eye. Then he went back to the beginning and flipped through the pages again.
“Where’s the Play Nice Proviso?” He asked.
“Really, Number One. You don’t need that to ‘play nice’ anymore, do you?”
“Wait,” Jared interrupted. “The Play House Proviso’s not in here either.”
“The Play House Proviso?” Three raised one eyebrow in an elegant arch.
“The Vancouver Abode Addendum. It’s gone,” Jensen said seriously. “Does this mean we lose our home?” Jared grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Their home. Jesus.
“Forgive me,” Three said, looking somewhat contrite. “I wanted to save the best for last.” He handed Jensen an additional envelope. “On behalf of the Network, we wish both of you only the best in your marriage and in your lives from this day forth.”
Jensen eyed the Minions warily as he opened the envelope and took out a sheaf of legal documents. It was a deed. To their Vancouver Abode. To their home. He and Jared snapped startled glances at the Minions, and blinked as the men smiled benevolently back at them.
“Enjoy your new home. Congratulations to you both.”
“Congratulations,” One and Two - the Minions, that is - intoned in unison. All three men offered their hands and Jensen and Jared automatically reached out to shake them.
“You’re giving us our house?” Jared found his voice long enough to ask.
“Yes. Consider it a belated wedding gift.”
“Our home? A wedding gift?” Jensen felt it behooved him to make sure.
“It’s all yours. It always has been. Can you imagine anyone else living there now that you have made it your own?”
“No, we would have bought it from you,” Jared told him and Jensen nodded in agreement. The Minions looked pleased.
“We also regret to inform you that the three of us will be leaving the Supernatural team to join Smallville for the duration of its final season,” Three informed them, and even the producers looked shell-shocked at this announcement. Three merely shrugged. “We go where our services are needed most. At this point in time, Smallville beckons.” Something niggled at Jensen the moment his old show was mentioned.
“Smallville?” Jensen asked.
“Yes.”
“You’re needed on Smallville?”
“Indeed.”
“Will you be, er... manipulating any contracts there?”
“We do not manipulate, Mr. Ackles-Padalecki, we modify.”
“Huh. Kinda like a Smallville Codicil?” Jensen felt like maybe he finally understood something. He wasn’t quite sure what it meant yet, but he had a feeling that time and Michael Rosenbaum would eventually tell. Jared stared at him in surprised disbelief.
Three merely grinned like a Cheshire cat. “How very apt. That’s precisely what it is. And I believe you finally understand which team we play for.”
“Maybe I finally do,” Jensen smirked at the man, reaching to shake his hand again. “By all means, go forth and modify.”
Three smiled at him in genuine amusement, before nodding to the producers. “Good night, Ms. Gamble, gentlemen. And good luck to you both, Misters Ackles-Padalecki. We bid you adieu.” And with that the Minions turned and walked away, soon disappearing from sight.
Jensen watched them leave, unable to suppress the shiver that skittered down his spine. Supernatural, indeed.
He shook his head in bemusement, chuckling quietly when Jared bumped his shoulder and raised a questioning brow up at him.
“You know you’re gonna have to explain what just happened, right?”
Jensen smiled. “Eventually.”
Jared took a step closer until only a thin strip of air separated their bodies. “Wanna go out with me tonight, Ackles? I’ll buy you dinner and you can spill the beans on those guys.”
“You asking me out on a date, Padalecki?” Jensen grinned; for all they’d been through in their relationship, they hadn’t actually been out on a date yet, not even whilst on their honeymoon during which, to be fair, they had had other… er… priorities.
Jared dipped his head a little lower until their noses were almost brushing, and Jensen had to remind himself to breathe. “Depends. Will you put out after?”
“On the first date?” Jensen gasped in mock-horror before cupping his husband’s face between his palms. “Totally.”
“Yee-haw,” Jared whispered just before Jensen kissed him.
“Great. Fucking fantastic,” Eric muttered, “just when Lucifer’s risen from the depths of Hell and Sam and Dean have to avert the goddamn Apocalypse, you two chuckleheads go and get freaking married!” Eric looked like he was having a tough time not pulling out what little hair he had left on his head. He suddenly glared at them. “No making googly eyes at each other! And no sucking face between takes! I’ma put a ‘No Kissing’ clause in your contracts! Where’d those network guys go? Screw Smallville!”
Jensen and Jared burst out laughing at Eric’s tirade, and Jared almost doubled over when Sera and Bob both smacked Eric, one upside the head and the other, right in the gut.
As Jared went to console Eric, rub his bald head and pat his belly, he also reminded their boss that both he and Jensen could be convincingly professional when the situation warranted. They would keep their libidos under control, he assured the producers with a smirk and a wink at Jensen, so long as their work days weren’t crazy long, in which case they would need regular sex ‘n’ blow-job breaks (yes, he said that, and in those words exactly) and he would make damn sure that that demand was written into their contracts too. Jensen looked on with a blush and a smile.
Actually, he was beaming, intently focused on his husband, and thinking how much their lives had changed in the past four years: how truth could grow from lies, how friendship had flourished from enmity, but most of all, how love trumped hate.
And that - so help him God, Jensen realized - was the only truth that mattered.
The Minions
One: “Well, the Supernatural season’s premiere ratings are through the roof. And they made the announcement perfectly.”
Three: “Indeed, just modified their names in the opening credits. Astonishingly low-key but highly effective. They make a good team.”
Two: “They’re an excellent team. Congratulations on a job well done, gentlemen.”
Three: “And they’re happy. Truly happy.”
One: “It is heartening when a plan comes together. All is as it should be. The show will end after seven seasons.”
Two: “So, we have been reassigned to Smallville. What is our approach to be?”
One: “It’s already in its tenth and final season. Mr. Welling refuses to renew. This may be our last opportunity to fix our biggest mistake.”
Two: “Yes. But that’s not the only reason we’re needed. Smallville deserves to go out with a bang.”
One: “The only way to ensure that is to bring him back. We need to remind the fans that their friendship and enmity are still the stuff of
legend. That only happens when Clark Kent has Lex Luthor in his life.”
Three: “That is the plan.”
Two: “I do so enjoy drawing up new contracts. Do you think Mr. Rosenbaum will be amenable?”
Three: “We may have to be persuasive. Make him an offer he can’t refuse. Pleasantly, of course.”
One: “Of course. This job can be very rewarding when things work out the way they were meant to.”
Three: “Heads up, gentlemen. It’s not often we get a second chance. This time we pull out all the stops. They both get their Happily-Ever-After, or it’s the end of the line for us.”
One: “To Happily-Ever-Afters.”
Two & Three: “Happily-Ever-Afters.”
