NC-17 | In This Windy City (1/8)

[dugindeep]

Jared’s phone rings for the fourth time in thirty minutes but it’s the first time it wakes him up. He glares at the lit display, turns over on the couch, and huddles into himself to fall back asleep. Then the texts start rolling in.

It’s been nearly four years, and Jared still hasn’t adjusted to the hours, middle of the night calls that demand his attention, or having to rise from wherever he crashed to head into work.

He finally checks his phone and a text from his boss alerts him of where he’s needed so he rolls off the couch to pick up his clothes. As he pulls on the dress pants and undershirt, he recalls being so tired that he never made it to the bedroom. He also remembers that he didn’t fall asleep on that couch alone.

“Hey,” he grumbles loudly, hoping his voice floats through the living room, down the hall, and into the bedroom. “Got a job.”

There’s no response, and he shakes his head as he moves into the kitchen. He hasn’t done dishes in nearly two weeks; he rifles around for a semi-clean glass and gulps tap water, wincing a bit at the lukewarm temperature. He’s at least thankful it wets his throat and eases up his voice. Walking down the hallway, he clears his throat to call out louder than before, “Gotta go in.” He stops at the doorway and rolls his eyes at the empty room.

“Asshole,” he mumbles as he turns from the doorjamb.



Jared’s steps slow as he approaches the Madison Street Bridge, running east and west with reels of yellow tape keeping away crowds that haven’t come yet. He approaches Benedict, a tech who’s crouched down to one of the banisters of the bridge.

Jared taps him on the shoulder and when the guy spins on him, Jared recoils with a “What the hell!” when the light fastened to the tech’s head pierces Jared’s eyes.

“Oh, crap. Padalecki. I’m so sorry,” he mumbles while redirecting his head and the light.

Jared presses the back of his hand into his eyes. “What the hell’re you doing? Besides blinding me?”

“The street lamps are out and I needed the light. I had to calculate the angles, you know, and document drips.”

He winces at the rattling voice and then points at the area Benedict had been checking. “Alright, what d’you got then?”

“There’s a lotta dirt. And grime. The city’s festering with it,” Benedict rambles nervously as he looks around and keeps pointing. “I mean, I’ve seen some before, but it’s here. And there, and maybe more we haven’t uncovered yet. It’s everywhere.”

“Yeah, that’s nothing new. Who was first on scene?”

“Abel. But I don’t know. The kid’s nervous as hell. He can’t stop rambling at everybody and he-”

“Do you have anything yet?”

“Possibly foot prints. And we’ve grabbed fingerprints along the bridge, but there’re hundreds here.”

Jared looks up and down the bridge, imagining the rush hour crowds crossing it every morning and evening. “I doubt there’ll be much to go with, huh?”

“I can’t make that statement.”

He wants to roll his eyes, but he knows how Benedict and the entire crew are about not wanting to make conclusions without data. “Alright, yeah.” Jared pushes past Benedict, cutting off the conversation with a pat on his shoulder, and finds the senior tech on the scene and Abel standing in the middle of the street. They’re crowded together with a few patrol officers, and Jared pulls at the edge of his jacket, just enough to flash the badge on his belt.

The group splits and Abel faces him, visibly swallowing as the others move their conversation to the other side of the road. “Man, you look like shit,” the young officer jokes with a shaky smile.

He’s well aware that his clothes are wrinkled beyond belief; it happens often enough that he’s long ago stopped caring. “Ain’t looking too grand yourself,” Jared returns with an easy smile and handshake. “How’s your dad?”

“Twitchy,” he returns while crossing his arms awkwardly. “He can’t stand retirement.”

“He turn the scanner on yet?”

Abel chuckles, shoulders settling lower and more comfortably. “No, my mom hid that away while he was still working off the hangover from his party.”

Jared smirks as he spreads his feet a little and rests his hands on his hips, looking across the scene. “Your mom’s a real jewel.” Then he gives Abel a quick look. “The second he turns that thing on, you call me. I’ve got ten weeks in the pool.”

The young officer chuckles again, pulling his hat off to run a hand over his hair before putting it back on and tugging at the brim in salute. “Yes, sir.”

“Jake, what time you get on the scene?” Jared asks, all previous comfort gone from his voice, replaced entirely by a practiced cadence.

“1:17 a.m., I was patrolling south on upper Wacker,” Abel says, same tight tone as Jared, and he carries on like he has all the confidence in the world. Even while his face twists and betrays every ounce of it. “Saw a car roll through a light, west on Madison, so I followed. As I turned the corner, my headlights picked up a runner. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but he was in just a t-shirt.”

At Abel’s pause, Jared tips his head down and stares right at him. “And?”

“Well, it’s February, sir. A little cold to be running in a t-shirt.”

Jared scratches the edge of his jaw with a slight chuckle. “Alright, fair enough.”

“And it’s the middle of the night.”

Chuckling lightly, he gives Abel a slightly harsh look. “Yeah, I got it.” He starts a slow stroll towards the walkway where the techs are gathering every piece of debris. “Where was he running from?”

Abel follows and points at a section of railing where red paint gives way to bright silver, bare metal reaching for the rest of the bridge - repairing railings and bridgework just one of many City beautification projects.

“Right about here,” Abel recounts. “I remember the glare off my headers. He was running west, but then he turned at the end of the bridge and charged south through the plaza along the river. I stopped here,” and he sidesteps and pushes his hand down to signal it. “Got out to follow and that’s when I saw the clothes.”

Jared eyes the yellow flags marking where evidence had been retrieved. He frowns at the idea of clothes being a major issue for Abel, but he goes along with it. “And then?”

“And then I called it in. And while I was on the radio, I saw a few more pieces further down the way and then I saw her down there.”

“Down where?” Jared asks as he steps up to the walkway and leans over the railing.

Abel doesn’t have to answer because Jared spots a female body, face down in the water with a police boat sliding closer. Jumper, he immediately thinks while rubbing at the back of his head, wondering why he’s even here for this.

“Padalecki!” a gruff voice rings out and Jared sighs as he turns towards it, watching his boss head towards him. “Where the heck’s your partner?”

“Don’t know. He must’ve broken out of the cuffs I put him in last night,” Jared jokes to move beyond the annoyance of being woken in the middle of the night to oversee a suicide.

Lieutenant Beaver steps up with his hands stuffed into the deep pockets of his trenchcoat. “You’re funny, kid. Too bad you ain’t that smart.” Beaver looks at Abel and nods grimly. “You okay, son?”

“Plenty okay, sir.”

“Don’t go too far, okay?” Beaver instructs as he motions Abel to give him and Jared some space.

When Abel’s a few steps away, Jared smirks and carries on their conversation. “I’m plenty smart. That’s why you got me. Your best detective to call a suicide,” he adds with a bit of bravado, even if he hates being called for deaths he can’t do anything for.

“Second best detective.”

Jared spins to the new voice and tries his best to not smirk at his partner, but it’s difficult to not get a little excited at his presence. Over the years, it’s become increasingly easy and satisfying to work with him.

Beaver huffs at Jensen. “Why’re you always sneakin’ up on me?”

Jensen smirks and hands Jared a covered cup of coffee. “Black as tar, just how you like it.”

“This is the exact opposite of how I like it,” Jared frowns as he accepts the white and tan cup from 7-11. “If you’re gonna be late you could at least come with something good.”

Jensen smirks and nods at Beaver, “Lieu, what’re we looking at?”

Jared leans over the edge with Beaver and Jensen, and says with gravitas, “Well, going by my expert opinion and decade-plus of law enforcement experience, I’d say it’s a body, Jensen.”

“You’re real funny.”

“You know,” Jared smiles. “You’re the second person to say to that inside of five minutes. I’m apt to believe it.”

Beaver sighs. “You two done with the Smothers Brothers act? I’d like for you to solve a little murder if you don’t mind.”

“Murder? Come on,” Jensen says with a roll of his eyes, used to the Lieutenant fighting them on any instance of suicide, always looking for a loophole in any case.

Jared and Jensen together snap to attention when the body below them is flipped and the crew hauls it into the boat. An officer just past Beavers shines a light down on it.

“Whoa,” they both proclaim at sight of purple bruises along the naked woman’s throat.

“You boys mind gettin’ to work now?” Beaver asks with a stern glance.

Jared looks at Jensen, grave face and furrowed brow. “I’m gonna need better coffee for this.”



Jared yanks his coat off, tosses it over the back of his chair, and sinks into the seat while loosening his tie. Admin Alona Tal drops a handful of files to his desk with a smirk, and he smiles right back.

“I wouldn’t be lookin’ so smooth ‘til you check those out,” she says on her way out of the room.

“I can’t help but be smooth, Lon,” he calls out. “It happens every day.”

Her head pops back into the doorway. “Is that why you’re wearing yesterday’s clothes?”

A few low whistles sound in the bullpen and Jared turns to eye his fellow detectives. “You guys can cut it. This is a mighty fine suit.”

“That you wore yesterday,”Jensen points out as he puts a paper bag at the edge of Jared’s desk before sitting at his own and facing him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to do laundry. I was a little busy solving the-”

“High profile murder of one Joanna Kelley,” Jensen tiredly recites and leans across the desk to give Jared a serious look. “I know, I was there, too. I am your partner, you know?”

“Unfortunately.” He unloads the bag Jensen brought and divvies up the chocolate and vanilla frosted donuts between them. “Speaking of, where were you?”

“I was getting you breakfast.”

Jared stares at Jensen, whose eyes are trained on his computer monitor. “No, I mean this morning.”

“Sleeping.” Jensen barely flinches at Jared’s sigh though he does glance over for a moment. “Until I got the call that is. As I recall you didn’t answer my calls, so what were you doing?”

There’s a long, shared look until Jared’s mouth quirks in a subtle smile. “I was sleepin’.”

Jensen’s lips flip up for a second before he’s turning back to his computer and failing to hide his own smile behind the screen. “Mmhmm.”

Jared takes a heavy bite of his donut and then shifts the files that Tal brought so he can flip through them. The top file has the first set of crime scene photos - Jane Doe as found in the river, clothes strewn across the walkway, and a few other dark shots that he can’t make out. The next file shows general information on a young brunette co-ed; it’s all newspaper clippings, a few internet articles on cheap copy paper, and a college newspaper.

“Abel’s with the sketch artist. He caught some of the runner’s face,” Jensen says as he flips through his own file.

Jared nods numbly, too taken by the display of pictures in front of him. He frowns for a few moments, eyes flipping back and forth in thought as he tries to recall where he’s seen the girl’s face before. Neighborhood events and television interviews flash in his mind.

“Oh, crap,” Jared announces, grabbing Jensen’s attention, and holds up one of the clippings between them. “Jane Doe? Samantha Price.”

“Price as in…?” Jensen says as he looks like he’s starting to catch on.

“Jonathan Price. 47th Ward Alderman.”

Jensen stares at Jared, the clipping, and back to Jared. “Crap.”



Jared and Jensen split long enough to grab a bit of sleep and a shower, and by the time Jared steps out the front door to his apartment building, Jensen’s waiting in their sedan. He gives a second glance to the files in the passenger seat before raising an eyebrow at Jensen.

“What?” Jensen asks. “You getting in or what?” Jared looks at the files again and Jensen smirks. “Thought you’d like some reading material.”

“Did any other thoughts occur to you? Maybe for some good coffee, too?” He asks as he grabs the files and slides into the seat.

“Why should I start now?”

“You’re an awful partner. I want a new assignment.”

“Sure you do,” Jensen says with a smile and mock concern. Then his voice goes tight, like it always does on duty. “Lieu said he’ll talk to the Prices. Out of respect to another City employee and all.”

“Alright, good,” Jared sighs and instantly feels guilty for it. He shouldn’t be glad he’s not doing a part of his job, but he has to admit that telling families that they’ve lost a loved one is always the hardest part.

He distracts himself for a few moments with watching the road before them as Jensen expertly maneuvers between traffic for the quickest route. Without thinking, he leans over, poking Jensen’s neck where a few red scratches are barely healing.

“What’d you do?”

Jensen flinches away, twitching his shoulder up to keep Jared’s hand away. “Cut myself shaving.”

Jared reaches again, but his fingers are gentle as he folds the collar of Jensen’s leather jacket back to see it better. “That’s a nasty cut.”

As Jared’s fingers slip along the edges of torn skin, Jensen starts and shoots him an ugly look. “Stop it, man. I don’t know where those hands’ve been.”

Jared snorts. “Sure you do.”

“Makes me even more scared.”

He shakes his head and flips through the file again, reading up on Samantha Price and her time at DePaul University. Paperwork says she received a free ride thanks to her father’s position and constant involvement with the school. But she earned her spot on numerous Dean’s Lists and worked as editor of The DePaulia, the school newspaper. The file had also been updated with family photos from charity events and, unsurprisingly, her Facebook account.

“How’re you feeling on this?” Jared asks, wondering if his stomach is the only one turning at the worry of a public case.

Jensen looks out his window as he makes a left turn, mumbling, “Not too good.”

“Yeah,” Jared replies quietly.



For the first time in a long while, they can operate before the press has gotten word of the death, and Jared and Jensen are both quick to act while keeping Samantha Price’s murder quiet for as long as possible.

With that in mind, Jensen proceeds to the Admissions Office while politely asking for the girl’s current schedule and student file.

The thirty-something secretary eyes them both, a few seconds longer on Jared, but still gives them a flat look. “I’m sorry, but we don’t release student records without authorization.”

Jensen motions with his closed billfold, which holds the ID and badge he’d just flashed her. “Well, PD is pretty good authorization.”

She stares at him.

Jared and Jensen share a look and, like a practiced dance, Jensen moves two steps back and Jared two steps up to the desk.

“Hey … Susan,” Jared says, leaning down to eye her nameplate. He shoots her his friendliest, whitest smile. “See, the problem is that we’re trying to track Samantha’s classes down so we can get a message to her.”

“Look, officer-”

“Detective,” he winks. “Detective Padalecki.”

She bites into her bottom lip and looks away for a moment. When she turns back, she looks up through her eyelashes. “Detective, I really wish I could. But I can’t.”

Jared crouches, resting arms on the desk while he draws lines across the surface with a long finger. “Susan, I really think you can,” he prods with a warm voice.

Jensen snorts and when Jared looks back, Jensen tucks his hands into his dress pants and he’s spinning away.

With a smirk, Jared turns back to the secretary and taps his fingers at the edge of her deskpad calendar. “We don’t need her grades, just a schedule. I promise you she’s not in any sort of trouble with us.”

Susan eyes him, taking her time to judge his face, which flips into the warmest, softest, most affable thing Jared can manage. She slowly faces her computer, taps out a few dozen keys, and turns back to Jared with a tiny, shy smile as she holds a printout in the air.

“Thank you so much,” Jared says while keeping her gaze, smile gentle and eyes even gentler to reinforce the point.

Jensen leans forward, takes the paper, and nods. “Yes, thank you. So much,” he adds with a hint of sarcasm.

Jared rises and winks at her as he taps the top of her desk. “Have a great day, Susan.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs and goes back to her screen with a broad grin.

Through the hallway, Jensen starts mumbling Samantha Price’s schedule, flicking his finger at each line. Jared bumps into Jensen’s shoulder. “Really had to add on the so much,” he says with the same sarcasm as Jensen.

“Hey, if you can do it.”

“You can’t. You come out cranky. On the other hand, I am pleasant and warm.”

“Yeah, sure you are.” Jensen smiles but keeps walking and talking. “Look, she’s got two classes not far from here. Let’s swing over there.”

Jared snatches the schedule and reads line by line, deciphering abbreviations for class titles. “This looks pretty hoity toity. 374 Comm Reporting. Communications? Community? 364 In - ventory Reporting?”

“Investigative.”

“Huh,” Jared says before clucking his tongue. “Yeah, I should probably know that one.”

Jensen tips his head and nods. “Being a detective and all.”

“Right?” he smirks.

Jensen smirks, too, shaking his head and putting his sunglasses on as they step outside. “Good thing you got a cute face to offset the lack of brains.”

“You think I’m cute,” Jared says with a bump of his elbow and a teasing smile as they approach the car parked along State Street.

“Sure thing.”

“I am a sure thing.”

Jensen slides behind the wheel as Jared slips into the passenger seat. “That’s why you wear day-old suits.”

Jared shrugs. “It was the closest thing.”

“Because walking down to your bedroom was too much for you?”

“At three in the morning, yeah, it is.”



Jared peeks into the window of a classroom where Samantha Price should be listening to her 300-level Journalism and the American Experience lecture.

Jensen sidles up to him, eyes roaming the room. He presses a fingertip to the glass, aiming far back into the room. “Back corner, second from the right.”

He turns to Jensen, catches how close they are and smiles at him. It gets sharper as he recognizes Jensen’s easy tone, which always precedes him finding something good. “Yeah, I see,” Jared says as he looks back inside the room.

“Light t-shirt while everyone else is in sweaters and jackets.” Jensen then pushes the photocopied sketch that Abel had helped create against the glass. It looks similar enough to be suspicious.

Jared pats Jensen’s back as he pushes away from the door and into the wall next to it. “You want him or the teacher?”

Jensen gets impossibly close to the window for a moment until students start looking over and then he backs up a few steps. His hands slip into his pockets and he looks at Jared. “Kid looks plenty awkward without me shaking him up.”

A bark of a laugh and then Jared puts his hands into his pockets and looks down the hallway. His phone buzzes and he takes it from his belt holster to read a text from the Lieutenant. “Beaver wants us back at the house right when we’re done.”

“You think it got to the papers yet?”

Jared checks his watch and does the math from when the calls had started that morning. “I don’t know. It’s only been eight, nine hours.”

“Since you were on scene,” Jensen points outs. “Coroner’s sayin’ time of death may be midnight or earlier.”

He scratches down his jaw. “You really think they got it? In twelve hours.”

“They’ve done it with less.”

Both stand to attention and move from the doorway when students start gathering items and filing out, all watching Jared and Jensen watch them.

When the last kid, the one that Jensen eyed earlier and looks like their sketch, steps out, Jared nods at Jensen and falls into step behind the kid as Jensen enters the classroom.

Jared moves slow to keep pace and waits until the hallway’s clear enough to not make a fuss. For a minute, he logs the kid’s clothes: dirtied and wrinkled, way beyond worn-in, including the zip-up hoodie dangling from the side of his backpack. His jeans drag over a pair of running shoes, dusty and mud-stained. And he’s got more than a five o’clock shadow going on.

After his initial assessment, he speeds up to walk along with the kid, and clears his throat before speaking. “Hey, you got a few minutes?”

The kid looks over with a nervous bite of his lips and hard tug of his backpack, but he keeps walking without a word.

Jared takes a few quick steps to get in his way and flashes his badge. “Police. If you will, just a couple questions.”

He stops and looks up with wide eyes. “I didn’t do anything.”

A smile flashes on Jared’s face before he can stop it. Right. “Didn’t say you did.” He reaches inside his jacket to retrieve a picture of Samantha Price, two months ago at Christmas with a bright smile and long, shiny hair. Nothing like her current photos. “You know this girl? She’s in your class right there,” he says as he points towards the classroom.

His eyes barely flicker over the picture then to the room behind him. “She looks familiar,” he mumbles.

“You see her this morning?”

“No. Why?”

“Funny thing.” Jared softens his look to ease the boy. “I got more questions for her than I do for you,” he says as brings out his pocket notebook and a pen.

“I don’t know. She wasn’t in class?”

“We didn’t see her in there. When’s the last time you saw her?”

He shrugs and readjusts his backpack, fingers tight around the straps, and he struggles to meet Jared’s face. “I dunno. Thursday.”

“Yeah? What for?”

“Class.”

“What class?”

He finally looks up with a flat face, and the voice comes out level if not a little confused. “The one I just walked out of.”

Jared smirks and nods, like he was looking for that exact answer. “How do you like the class?”

“Why?”

Jared watches as the kid’s features tighten even more and the voice gets more defensive, and in return, Jared drops his voice to something even more gentle and open. “Just curious how it goes. If the teacher’s good? Other students? You like going here?”

“Why?” he asks, looking around, possibly for an escape. “You gonna transfer?” he asks with attitude in his tone.

Jared chuckles and flaps his notebook at his other hand. “Might be a little too late for me and continuing education.” He eyes the kid and gives a small smile. “What kinds of things you do for fun?”

“What?”

“I really like a good pizza, a couple pitchers of beer, a good basketball game. You see last night’s?”

“No, I don’t watch basketball,” he replies with more attitude than before.

“Man, it was a good one.” Jared smiles then gives a long look. “What’d you do last night?”

“I stayed in.”

“Hang out with some buddies? Maybe have a girl over?”

“I was at with my sister’s, why?” Jared’s seconds from asking if anyone can verify his whereabouts when the kid cuts in, “Why’re you asking so many questions?”

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s your name? I didn’t even get your name.”

“Didn’t get yours either,” he says, eyes scrolling the area.

With a hand at his own chest, Jared gives an apologetic look. “No, you’re right. I’m Detective Padalecki. Chicago Police. Think I already said that, yeah? Maybe not. Either way, we’re looking for this girl. But you said you haven’t seen her?”

The kid shakes his head, and Jared again asks his name and laughs, “Should at least take you off the list so my partner doesn’t come bother you. He’s a lot more persistent than I am. You know, good cop, bad cop. He’s the bad one.”

He stares for a few long moments then slowly says, “Josh Bell.”

“Josh, alright. Cool to meet you,” Jared says easily with a forced shake of his hand. “Tell you what, I’ll give you my card and you call if something comes up or you remember seeing her?” He hands over a card and once Josh’s fingers close around it, Jared tugs it back. “Oh, wait, wrong one.” He chuckles, trying his best to ease the kid up before reaching into another pocket with his other hand. “Alright, this one’s good. Got a new title and I like to make sure it’s all shiny on the card,” he says with a broad grin as he hands it over.

Josh’s fingers close around the card and he tucks it into his back pocket. “Alright, yeah,” he says with an odd look. He looks up and down the hallway once more. “That it?”

Jared nods. “Sure.”

The kid can’t walk away fast enough and Jared tips his head as he watches him leave.

Jensen comes up to his side and nudges him. “Teacher said she’s straight As, good girl, almost too much on the participation. But all around she sounds fine.”

“What about that guy?” Jared asks, nodding in the direction Josh Bell walked off.

“Didn’t know much about him. Quite the opposite, all quiet. What’d you get?”

“A bad feeling.” Then Jared flicks the first business card into the air between them. “And prints.”

Jensen’s mouth slowly curves into a wide smile and he playfully smacks Jared’s shoulder. “I like the way you work. Let’s get it back to Evidence and get a car on the kid.”

Jared follows, pulling his sunglasses out of his hair to slip them on when they step back into the bright sun beaming off the snow that hasn’t melted from the grass in days. “We should get Uno’s tonight.”

“For what,” Jensen asks with a sharp glance.

“Special occasion pizza.”

“Oh, hot shot thinks he’s done?” Jensen says with a laugh.

“We are undefeated for the year.”

“It’s February. Give us time to screw it up, okay?” Jensen suggests with a high eyebrow.



“I’m assuming you broke the streak last night?” Tal says with a smirk as she steps up to the Evidence counter, eying Jared on the other side.

He presses his hip against the booth and smiles. “Now, why would you say that?”

“Your charming personality is a tell for you getting laid.”

For a second, Jared looks affronted. “I am always charming.”

“Sure you are, champ,” she says, barely hiding a smile. “What was it? A month?”

He flicks an eyebrow and looks wholly unimpressed as he spins back to the data sheet in front of him. His hand scratches out details for the business card with Josh Bell’s fingerprints he’s turning in. “Nearly two. Joanna Kelley had a lot of enemies.”

“Don’t know how you do it. There’s no way I could hold out.”

“Tradition, Lon.”

“You mean superstition?”

He snorts and glances at her for a moment before going back to his paperwork. “Okay, maybe a li’l of that, too.”

“No wonder you can’t keep a good girl. I’d never wait out that long for you to solve a case.”

Jared does his best to ignore it, but he hears Jensen’s voice growing closer before the guy breaks off a conversation and greets Tal. He shifts enough to watch Jensen from the corner of his eye, see him stand casually with his feet slightly parted, hands in his pants’ pockets, and an easy smile in place as he and Tal joke together. Jared shakes his head and distantly wonders how he ever gets his job done with Jensen right there.

Tal’s charming Jensen in the way she always does, voice slipping out on smooth jokes, tapping at his shoulder or arm, and tugging hair over her shoulder. “You seem to be in an incredibly good mood today, too. Don’t tell me you follow Jared’s li’l tradition as well.”

Jensen chuckles and swats at the back of Jared’s shoulder in greeting. “Seems like it. Just never any time for anything.”

She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. “You guys are ridiculous. I don’t know how you can even solve a case when you’re not getting laid.”

“Some call it incentive,” Jensen says with a smirk.

Jared smirks, too, cheeks warming and belly flipping a bit. He gives Jensen another look, and his partner eyes him right back with a small smile.

“You done yet?” Jensen asks. “Lieu’s waiting on us.”

“Yeah, sure, one sec,” he replies while scribbling his name, badge number, and Precinct number at the bottom of the form. He flicks the top of the pen with a flourish and a broad grin before slipping it into the inside pocket of his suit coat. “Ready and set.”

Jensen rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile that Jared latches onto as they nod to Tal and head back to Beaver’s office.

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Jared starts with a light hand at Jensen’s back.

“You got a problem with my coffee, you can start bringing it.”

Jared chuckles. “No, not that.”

“If it’s driving, you can forget that, too.”

They stop outside Beaver’s door and Jared stares at Jensen with high eyebrows, waiting for his partner to listen seriously.

Jensen takes a deep breath, tucks his hands into his pockets, and stands steady. “Okay, sorry,” he says with a soft voice. “Hit me.”

“Ackles. Padalecki,” Beaver says low and almost with a forced plea as he pulls the door open. “Would you two please come inside for a minute?”

Jared looks between his boss and his partner, confused with this version of Beaver.

Patting Jared’s back, Jensen flashes him a warm smile and says, “We’ll talk later.”

They both stall as soon as they face forward and Beaver settles at the front edge of his desk with a surprisingly comforting frown peeking out from behind his thick beard. Beaver looks between the detectives and a couple seated in the arm chairs before him.

Jared and Jensen both stand at near-attention, doing their best for respect with company in the room. Jared clears his throat and softly prompts, “Sir.”

“Detectives,” Beaver nods with a low voice. “This here is Alderman and Mrs. Price. I asked them to come in to see us in order to keep some peace on this sensitive matter.”

They each take a second to process the statement before Jared eases up and steps forward to shake hands and share condolences. It’s another few seconds for Jensen, who’s not fully in the moment until Mrs. Price warmly says, “Oh, thank God it’s you.”

“It’s who?” Jared asks quietly as he turns to see Mrs. Price envelop Jensen in a hug.

Jensen hugs back, face closed off and dipping down near her shoulder. His voice is pitched low but Jared can still hear him murmur, “It’s okay. We’ll find out what happened.”

Jared keeps watching, frozen in his spot as Alderman Price steps forward and firmly shakes Jensen’s hand with a stiff nod and wide eyes, like he’s trying hard to not close them in fear of tears breaking free.

“Jensen, it’s been a long time.”

There’s a short nod from Jensen and a barely-there yes sir, and Jared’s speechless at the matter.

“Damn glad it’s you, son.” Price nods at Jensen. “I know you care just as much as us about what happens.”

Jensen clears his throat with another small nod and a steady look. “Yes, sir. I do.”

Jared spends the next fifteen minutes listening to Jensen and Beaver question the Prices.

Did Samantha say anything about anyone giving her trouble?

Has she had issues with anyone at school?

At the paper?

Can you think of anyone who would be trying to get to you?

Jared can’t formulated questions of his own or even words to butt in because his mind keeps spinning around the fact that the Prices know Jensen. Which means Jensen knows their victim.

Statutes and ethics flash through Jared’s mind as he considers how many conflict of interest seminars he’s been forced into that discussed this very thing.

By the time he can catch up to the conversation, the Prices are sharing a photo they’re authorizing the department to use, and are quietly asking it all be kept under the rug in respect for the family. Jared nods with the room, and when Jensen finally gives him a hard look, Jared breaks his silence and shakes both of the Prices’ hands.

“You think of anything, you give us call,” Jared says with his usual comforting voice while handing over his card.

“Day or night,” Jensen adds with a solemn nod and his own card.

Once the Prices are gone, all of their controlled grief dissipates and Beaver stands before them. “Don’t think I need to tell you boys how big this is?”

“No, sir,” Jensen replies in a steady tone.

“You know them,” Jared blurts out.

Both Jensen and Beaver take a moment to consider Jared, but neither actually replies to him. Jensen turns to their boss and quickly says, “We okay to go now?”

“Yeah. Just,” Beaver sighs, tapping his desk. “Get this thing done. And quietly, please? We have cover from the press for only so long. Make it last. They’ve been eying the Alderman for months on questions of ethics and bribes. They’d love to extend that attention to his daughter.”

Jensen nods and leaves the office and Jared in it. Jared eyes Beaver long enough that the Lieutenant has to roughly sigh and motion to the door for Jared to leave.

Only, he doesn’t. He looks right at Beaver and asks as levelly as possible, “You really okay with this? He knows them.”

Beaver rolls his eyes and sighs, but it sounds more weary than annoyed. “I don’t have much choice… The Prices insist he stay on.” He motions at the door again, tiredly saying, “Now if you don’t mind.”

In the hallway, following Jensen, Jared latches a hand around Jensen’s elbow but keeps walking with him. “You know them.”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know them?”

Jensen looks between Jared and his elbow and then carefully extracts it. “Jon knows a lot of people.”

Jared’s eyebrows go high and he stands up straight. “First name basis, that’s nice, Jensen. You ever think of telling your partner that you know the dead girl?”

He swallows hard and quickly glances around the area, pausing to let a few street officers pass them and then leave them alone in the hallway again. It’s long enough that Jared can see he’s annoyed and it’s with Jared. He can then hear when Jensen’s voice is trained steady and low, and while Jared appreciates that Jensen’s trying to remain calm, he hates that Jensen has to remain calm at the moment.

“You mean the victim?” Jensen corrects.

“How do you know the victim, Jensen?” Jared asks with a bit of an edge.

Jensen glances around, this time looking anxious instead of frustrated with Jared.

Jared tips his head and examines Jensen. He uses his stern but leading tone, one usually reserved for interrogation. “You looked pretty cozy, Jen. Hugging the victim’s mom, calling the father by his first name. It’s not all just casual, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” Jensen answers clearly yet quietly in an attempt to lower the volume on their conversation.

“What is it then?” Jensen bites into his lips and Jared keeps staring, even leaning closer while he waits for an answer that won’t come. “What is it, Jensen? How do you know them?”

“I grew up with them.”

“And?”

“I dated their daughter.”

Jared’s mouth drops and he gets harsh. “You dated the victim. Didn’t think to mention that at all, huh?”

“Calm down-”

Jared rushes on immediately with a hushed whisper. “No, I’m not gonna calm down. You dated our murder victim and you were gonna carry on with the case like you didn’t know any better? Fucking hell, Jen.”

Jensen steps up quickly, taking over Jared’s space with his hands easing over Jared’s shoulders then up to hold his neck. “Hey, seriously, calm down. Okay? It wasn’t Samantha.”

“But they-” Jared stalls with the memory of Samantha Price’s file. Every photo of her as a young adult showed her flanked by parents and two brothers. “There’s only one daughter.”

Jensen’s hands ease up, fingers coasting lightly over Jared’s neck and then dipping into his hair, tangling in the ends a little. Jared fights a shiver but fully acknowledges that it’s suddenly warm and he feels like he should be a little less worked up over the complication.

Finally, Jared admits with a strained frown, “I’m confused.”

“It was Sophia.”

Jared’s shaking his head until Jensen’s eyes shirk away and his voice drops.

“She died.”