NC-17 | In This Windy City (3/8)

[dugindeep]

Jared swats at the bedside table, trying in earnest to grab his cell and answer it. The tinny ring of a fake rotary phone keeps going until he can answer the call and grumble, “Yeah?”

“Nineteenth and the river. I’m on the way with coffee.”

Jared rolls to look at the rest of the bed, brain sleepily working out the fact that he’d fallen asleep with Jensen beside him and now the guy’s on the other end of the call. “Wait, what?” he asks, clenching his eyes tight. “Why there? It’s not even our district.”

“I don’t know. Lieu called it. He’s in a mood, so I’d say you shouldn’t even bother with a shower.”

He sits up and snatches the nearest pair of pants off the ground. As he pushes the phone between his ear and shoulder, he works one leg then the other to get dressed. “Where the hell are you? Last I knew you were right here.”

“Jared,” Jensen stresses, “Just get there, alright?”

Jared picks up his alarm clock and squints at the blue digital numbers. “It’s gonna take me some time right now.”

“Use your lights.”

The line goes dead and Jared rolls his eyes at Jensen’s impatience. And further more at his absence from the room. He files it away as something to argue about when they’re face to face, and grabs a dark shirt from the closet floor that shows little in the ways of stains or wear.



“It’s a shame you don’t have yourself a free pass to get around town,” Beaver says with a tired glance when Jared gets on the scene.

Jensen passes him a coffee and Jared rolls his eyes from behind his sunglasses because Jensen can’t look more awkward if he tried. Jared’s not exactly in the mood to play smooth partners considering he woke to an empty bed again, so he doesn’t trouble himself with addressing Jensen or what could be bugging him.

“It’s rush hour, what d’you want?” Jared shoots back with the attitude he’d built in the car what with being pissed at Jensen and for having to answer to a call just four hours after he fell asleep, having worked late on another case.

“I want my detectives to exercise their right to bypass traffic.”

“Next time I’ll commandeer a Ferrari. What’s going on?” he asks, assessing the park that butts up to Chinatown and boasts a pagoda-style pavilion. “This is far beyond our territory.”

“You ain’t kidding,” Beaver says as he steps along the pedestrian walkway that curls across the half-manicured field of grass and dirt that the Park District has been redeveloping.

Jared and Jensen fall in line, and when Jared notices that Jensen’s shoulders are stiff and his face is still tense, he frowns. “What’s going on?” he asks, pointedly focusing on Jensen.

Jensen looks over for a second but keeps walking and lets Beaver talk.

“Found the body an hour ago. It was called into the 21st District and Morgan came in but then he called for us.”

“Who?” Jared asks, glancing at Jensen, who remains silent.

“Jeff Morgan,” Beaver clarifies. “Head of Violent Crimes in the 21st.”

“And?”

That’s when Jared realizes another man is stepping up with an equally gruff disposition, frowning behind salt and pepper stubble as he extends a hand. “Jeff Morgan, in the flesh.”

It takes a moment for Jared to accept the hand, mentally re-living cases gone bad when districts didn’t play nice. He finally shakes Morgan’s hand and nods. “Jared Padalecki. What’re we looking at?”

Morgan motions to the side and walks closer to the boat takeoff, which is muddied beyond what Jared would assume is casual use. “We’re thinking there was a struggle here at the pier before she dropped in.”

As he steps forward, Jared’s prepared to ask for more information but then he sees the commotion just over Morgan’s shoulder. A crime scene unit is picking through dull blades of grass while Ferris kneels beside a naked body. Wet and female with raven hair.

Jared stares at Jensen, who’s looking right back with dim eyes. He tips his head in question and the way Jensen blinks and forcess his eyes away tells Jared enough. Jared turns in one direction and then the next, wishing he could escape the moment, and runs a hand over his head as Beaver talks.

“This is Morgan’s house so before we get too deep into a shitstorm of officers waving guns at each other, I want you two to play nice. Share your toys and all that. If and when it becomes our problem, I’ll let you loose.”

Jared’s still watching Jensen, but Jensen won’t acknowledge him, keeping his attention on the Lieutenant’s instructions. When Jensen finally meets him with a quick and startled look, Jared can’t string the right words together to comment on the situation.

He walks off to find Ferris crouched over the body. “What’s it look like?” Jared asks her.

She picks her head up, twisting her mouth before going back to her work. “It looks like what it looked like a month ago.”

Jared tugs at his pants and crouches beside her, tipping his head and taking in everything he can compare to Samantha Price. He points near the neck. “No strangulation.”

After a long pause, Ferris shifts closer to the head and logs more notes on her pocket-sized pad of paper. “Think it’s a little early for that.”

“Why?”

“Body temp ain’t hardly dropped. Couldn’t’ve been in there but an hour before they pulled her out.”

He grunts in acknowledgment but won’t allow himself more.

Ferris murmurs to herself, but judging by the way her voice picks up, Jared guesses it’s for him, too. “Dirt under her nails, possibly some skin. Abrasions on her wrists and ankles.”

Jared huffs; her words only serve to give him flashbacks to Samantha Price in the Coroner’s Office, pale skin made translucent by her dark hair. Jane Doe looks eerily similar, and Jared can’t help but follow the same conclusions he can read on the faces of those on the scene.

“If this is what I think it is, he ain’t gonna be too happy,” she says barely looking at Jared then away.

He follows her sight to Jensen, who has his head low but is nodding to whatever Beaver’s telling him. “He’s not the only one.”

They both turn back to the body and Jared goes along with Ferris as she shares her observations and scribbles in her notepad. When a shadow looms over Jared and the body, he spins on the ball of his foot and looks up to Jensen, frowning at his tight frown.

“You good here?” Jensen asks quietly. “I’m gonna head out.”

Jared’s prepared to go with so he has the chance to not only ask Jensen about leaving in the middle of the night, but to get a read on how troubled he is at this development. But Jared remembers he’d driven in on his own while Jensen had already been here. His shoulders drop as he stands but he keeps his eyes on Ferris’ work.

“I’m fine,” Jared returns stiffly. He grimaces at the way his partner can’t take his eyes off Jane Doe. “They have anything to go on for an ID?”

“Not yet. Seems a little early.”

“We tagged Samantha Price pretty early.”

“Yeah, you did,” Jensen says with little emotion.

Jared stands and gets close to Jensen as he pitches his voice low because now he can’t help but ask. “So what’s the deal with you being on the road early?”

Jensen faces him but his eyes go anywhere but Jared’s. “Can’t be showing up to early morning crime scenes together.”

“Last I checked we’re partners. It’s par for the course.”

With a quick look up and down Jared’s body, eyes fixing pointedly at the rumpled shirt on display under Jared’s coat, Jensen clears his throat. “Not all of us are keen on rewearing clothes.”

Jared rolls his eyes because even while he knows Jensen’s going for a quick joke, an easy out, he’s not in the mood for it. “Whatever. I’m just tired of getting calls when you’re already gone.”

“You think I’m happy to be here?” Jensen shoots back, glaring at him.

Before Jared can properly respond, Beaver steps up to them and grunts. “The 21st’s team is gonna rake the area. You two should sit with them later today to see what they get. We’ll circle back to the house in a bit and consider what our options are.”

“I wanna hit Statesville,” Jensen says immediately.

Jared’s shocked at that, even when he knows what it means. Beaver gives Jensen a hopeless look.

“He’s the first person we should talk to,” Jensen quickly argues.

Beaver tuts and turns away for a moment before relenting. “Alright, but you guys be careful. You certainly gave that boy a mind-bend before, walking him right into that confession. If this is what we think it is, he might be our best witness.”

“I’ll go with,” Jared puts in before Jensen can argue with the Lieutenant.

“Jared, it’s fine. I got it.”

“I said,” Jared says sternly, “I’ll go.”

It’s a quiet standoff, a battle of wills, and Jared’s intent on winning.

Beaver sighs and nudges Jared closer to Jensen with a mumbled, “Get going,” as he steps around them.

Jensen knuckles at the corner of his eye. “What’re we doing with your car?”

“So, you’re driving,” Jared says in a flat tone.

“Of course I am,” he insists, but there’s less tension to him. “I’ll stop for your coffee. That good enough for you?”

Jensen gives him a wry smile and Jared rolls his eyes and turns away before he can let it really ease him. “You’re such a gentleman.”



When Josh Bell shuffles into the room, he’s a sad sight.

The kid’s beyond ragged, which makes Jared think perversely of the first time he saw him at DePaul; it’s quite a step up compared to now, with his orange jumpsuit and shaggy, unkempt hair. A blooming mark around his right eye and a few other scratches across his jaw and neck tell them that he’s been roughed up, and recently, too.

Jensen stands as Bell approaches the table and Jared shoots up to do the same, immediately wanting to put the boy at ease and make up for any mistreatement Bell’s experienced since that night in the Interrogation Room.

“Oh, you two,” Bell mumbles as he all but falls into the chair across from them.

“Hey, Josh,” Jensen says in a soft, comforting voice, sitting back down. “How’re you doing?”

“Really?” he asks, eyes dull but flicking between them both.

There’s an odd tick to Jensen, shoulder twitching up like he wants to shrug it off, but his hands tighten into a hard ball at the top of the table. Jared remains quiet, still unsure of what to do with the whole situation. On the ride out to the prison, Jensen had expertly sidestepped most conversation that was focused on him and instead tried to fill Jared in on anything from the new crime scene that he could’ve missed.

Jared decides that for all the anxiety he has over Jensen at the moment, they’re still partners, and it’s possible that they owe Bell a fair shake and a grand apology. On that, he leans forward and utilizes his easiest voice while giving a quick, soothing pass of a hand over Jensen’s, signaling that he’s got it.

“Josh, we have a few questions for you.”

“Right, of course,” he mumbles, leaning forward himself but staring down at his cuffed hands in his lap. “Something else to pin on me? Another body?”

They both freeze and it’s Jensen who stutters out, “Wait, what? What do you mean?”

Bell looks up and his eyes shoot wide open. “I … I was kidding. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t even do this,” he whimpers while motioning his hands up.

Jared, again, pushes a hand over the table. “No, we’re not saying that. Why’d you mention another body?”

“I dunno. You guys have been assholes from day one. I can’t get a little defensive?”

As sarcastic as it could’ve been, Bell lacks emotion other than resignation, and Jared gives a comforting smile. “No, you’re right. We can be assholes sometimes. We’re cops.” Bell seems to struggle with agreeing and nods his head just a tiny bit. Jared’s smile breaks a little sadder. “You said you were into something with Samantha and you had to stop her from ending it. That you weren’t done.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“What was it?”

“Now you’re gonna listen?” Bell asks uncertainly.

“Yeah, we are,” Jared says while looking at Jensen.

Jensen finally clears his throat and asks, “What was it you were talking to her about?”

“Why do you care now?”

Jensen gives Jared a quick look and says, “We have another case and we’re just trying to clarify things.”

“There really is another body,” Bell says more than asks with a low voice.

Jared fights a sigh because this is not the way he saw the conversation going.

Bell sits back and eyes them, going so far as to have a criticizing look before he angrily shakes his head. “No, you know what? That dick Welling talked me right into a plea bargain and my shit-for-brains public defender walked me into signing. You want to actually hear what I have to say, I want something.”

“We can’t promise anything,” Jared points out.

“I ain’t talkin’ ‘til you do,” Bell says, slipping down further in his chair and pushing his shoulders back. “I don’t belong here. I want out. Right now”

“If this goes somewhere, you’ll be out of here,” Jensen says kindly. “I can guarantee you that.”

“I want out of here immediately. Low-security prison or some other hell hole that’s a little less hellish.”

Jared and Jensen regard each other for a few moments before Jensen looks troubled, like he can’t decide what to really do. Jared minutely shrugs and Jensen sits forward to speak. “We can talk to the ADA and get you moved to a lower security prison ‘til then.”

Bell regards them for a long time, obviously suspicious of the offer.

“We’re listening,” Jensen nods. “We wanna know what you know.”

“You for real? Because I’m really tired of getting the shit beat outta me.”

Jared wants to frown because Bell sounds defeated and sad. He sees Jensen grimace and nod as he moves to the edge of his chair. “Yeah, Josh, I’ll talk to the ADA and see that we get you transferred.”

Bell starts talking, quickly but softly, and Jared rubs between his eyes at the mess of Jensen making that kind of promise. Though he becomes more alert as the kid talks about him and Samantha running around like the Hardy Boys, doing their best to unearth information on long-forgotten crimes.

“And she was all about looking for things like Michael Scott and all that-”

“The School Board President?” Jensen asks carefully.

Bell nods and rambles more. “Yeah, him. The gunshot to the head and then being dumped at Merchandise Mart. She was convinced it wasn’t suicide, but then if it was, she wanted to know why he did it. She was ruthless about it. But the second we moved onto something else, she just stopped. Even when I found some good stuff on her sister and her dad’s blackmailers, she stopped huntin’ around and wanted no part.”

Jared’s mouth goes dry and he imagines Jensen’s does, too. Especially when Jensen croaks out, “Her sister?”

“Yeah. Sam kept telling me to stay clear of that. That her dad would flip on her if he knew we were looking around into the family.” Bell suddenly sounds excited, though his voice remains low. “But it was really good stuff I dug up. You know that her sister was out with her friends that night at the beach, some new friends and old ones from high school. And yet no one had a clue of where she went off to come midnight? They all saw her arguing with an ex but that was it.”

He can’t help but watch Jensen, and then he’s amazed with the control his partner draws up. His face pulls in and Jensen’s nodding like he’s really interested in the news. Jared’s pretty damn interested, too, but can’t wait to get out of this place so he can interrogate the hell out of Jensen.

“What happened at the bridge that night?” Jensen asks levelly.

“We’d been out talking to some people by the Mart. Like the building crews at Lower Wacker, even some homeless guys who stay down there. All seeing if they remembered anything from the night Scott died. We had a lead on some guy who’d been working nights on Jefferson in the West Loop, so we hoofed it over.”

“That’s a damn long walk,” Jared points out sharply.

He shrugs helplessly. “Sam liked the River. We would follow it a lot.”

“What happened at the bridge?” Jensen pushes on.

“We got into it along the way and stopped there. I asked more about her sister, and I said I had some leads on the guys pushing on her dad. She slapped me. Told me to stop asking questions, that it wasn’t my business. I pushed her away to stop the hitting and we kinda fought a little. I was just trying to keep her off me because she was getting so worked up. When I had the chance, I left and went off to the closest bar. I texted her where I was and told her I was sorry and she should meet me there. But she never did. I went back through an hour later and I saw her in the water. Your guy saw me running off from there, and … and that’s it.”

Jared shuts his eyes and looks away. The last bit of Bell’s story was one they’d heard before, from both Bell’s insistence and Welling’s replay of conversations he’d had with Bell’s lawyer. But at the time, evidence was strong with Bell’s DNA under Samantha Price’s fingernails and Abel’s identification of the kid fleeing the scene. The rest of his story presents a whole new trail to sniff out, and Bell’s so earnest at the moment that Jared breathes deep to steady himself against the impending guilt.

“What did you know about the stuff with the Alderman?”

Bell pauses, regarding them even longer than he had before. He chews on his lip and shuts his eyes for a long while. Finally, he says, “I didn’t get much.”

“What did you get?” Jensen asks gently.

“He was going after cops.”

Jared looks right to Jensen, can’t take his eyes off of him, not even as Bell continues.

“A source said a few residents were shaken up in Price’s neighborhood by a few cops. And that some informants were being mistreated.”

They share a glance, Jared pursing his lips to avoid saying something to disrupt the flow between Jensen and Bell. Cops, in general, aren’t always the most honest creatures on the planet. And in Chicago, it gets a little tougher to label.

“You have any names on this?”

Bell shakes his head, dropping his eyes to the table and flexing his fingers out. “No. Samantha insisted we stop.”

“Who’s your source?”

“A lady on a parks committee. She was working with the Alderman to develop some land in his district.”

Jared glances over while his mind reels on the Ping Tom Park scene that morning.

“Gina Murray.”

Jensen’s chair scrapes as he pushes it out and rises, and it shocks Jared back into the moment. “Alright, Josh. I’ll talk to the ADA and we’ll be back as soon as we can. I can’t promise you hours or even days for it to happen, but it’s a priority.”

It takes a few seconds, but Jared gets up to follow Jensen out, though he stops at the door and shifts back. So much is swimming through his head that he can’t stop the question before it spills out: “Josh, what was the guy’s name from the beach?”

“Huh?”

He can hear Jensen shuffling and murmuring behind him, but he has to ask. “The sister’s ex?”

Bell looks away in thought and mumbles, “Jay or John? Something with a J.”

They’re eerily quiet on the way out, in collecting their property from the clerk’s desk, walking to the parking lot, and for most of the way back to the City. Jared busies himself with his phone, reading and sending messages, then he mumbles, “Welling’s gonna have your ass for that.”

Jensen doesn’t answer and when Jared looks over, Jensen’s hands are tight on the wheel.

After a bit of silence, Jensen’s voice is ten kinds of quiet. “It’s not him.”

Jared knows who he’s talking about but doesn’t say a word.



Morgan leads them into a conference room with photos pinned up that log the Ping Tom Park crime scene as well as a map with a tack marking the location and a handful of hand-written remarks on note cards circling it. He motions to the empty chairs at the end of the table nearest to the set-up and walks right up to the wall to recount what they have.

It’s not much, at least not enough to definitively say it’s the same thing as Samantha Price’s murder, but there’re little details that send chills down Jared’s spine and makes him wonder how it all ties together.

“Ferris says there’s some bruising becoming apparent and it looks familiar, but she’s not making statements just yet,” Morgan says as he regards a close-up of Jane Doe in the grass. “Can’t really blame her. I’m glad we’re taking this one slow.”

Jared quietly snorts and shifts in his chair while Jensen gets up and takes in the spread of evidence.

Morgan looks over Jensen’s shoulder and raises an eyebrow at Jared. “Something you wanna say, kid?”

He smarts at kid and pushes his tongue against the back of his upper lip. “Not at all. Looks like you’ve got your bases covered right now.”

They stare at each other for a few moments until Morgan turns to Jensen. “What’d your kid at Statesville say?”

“Not a whole lot to run with just yet,” Jensen replies evenly, and Jared smirks, glad to know he’s not the only one unwilling to play nice here. “But we can look into a few things.”

“I’d like to look into a few things myself.” Morgan gives him a long look.

Jensen only nods and turns to Jared. “You good?”

“I am,” Jared says, standing and buttoning his jacket closed as he walks to the door with Jensen following behind him.

“Hey, boys,” Morgan calls out. “I believe your Lieutenant said we were to share and all.”

Jensen bristles and Jared’s hesitant to really respond. But he’s thankful when Jensen says, “We’ll invite you to the sandbox, don’t worry,” and nudges Jared out of the room.



Harris drops a handful of files on Jared’s desk and regards them each with a smile. “I hear good news is in order?”

They both look up, faces flat yet becoming expectant.

She looks back oddly. “You two okay?”

“Yeah,” Jared replies with a glance at Jensen. “Just been a long day. What’s your news?”

Tapping the top file, she smiles. “This came over from Benedict. Already got a name on your Jane Doe.”

Jared sits forward, followed by Jensen and they’re more than expectant; they’re needy for the information.

Harris knocks the top of the files and nearly grins. “You're welcome, boys.”

Jensen licks his lip and reaches for the top folder but Jared snatches it up first. He flips it open then stares down on the words, heart racing and brain spinning.

“Gina Murray,” Jared says as his eyes zero in on the name.

“What? Lemme see,” Jensen insists, leaning over both their desks to look.

Jared moves back in his seat and keeps reading, words garbled by the Blow Pop tucked in the corner of his mouth. “Thirty-four. Graduated Loyola magna cum laude in business. MBA from Northwestern. Worked for CDW as a business analyst. She’s part of the Executive Committee at Large for Friends of the Parks, a group that advocates on behalf of and with the Park District. Perfectly clean record. Recently moved into Left Bank.” He lets out a low whistle. “Way outta my pay grade.”

Looking right at Jensen, Jared swallows. “She registered at Room and Board two months ago.”

“Yeah?”

He nods at Jensen, heart still pumping hard but there’s a soothing notion that they’re doing this without too much trouble, and after visiting Morgan at the 21st, that they’re in it together.

A large brown, paper bag appears on Jensen’s desk and Jensen looks at its grease spots then Jared as he shifts it over the break of their desks and onto Jared’s with glare.

“Don’t give me that look,” Jared groans. “Half of this is yours, too.”

“More like a quarter, you beast.”

“Twenty-three, sixty-three,” Officer Collins says as he leans against the side of Jared’s desk with a hand out.

Jared glances at the clock on his computer, telling him it’d taken Collins just 15 minutes to grab food and come back. “Gotta tell ya, Mish,” Jared smiles lightly as he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. “You have impeccable timing. If this police stunt don’t work out, you have a future in food delivery.”

“I’ll be sure to tell my wife. Now pay up.”

Jared hands over a twenty and a five but then stares at the piece of paper Collins is holding out for him in return.

Collins nods at it. “The information you requested on Sophia Price.”

Jensen’s chair creaks as he shifts to watch Jared with a sharp look.

“I take that back. You have awful timing,” Jared grumbles as he takes the sheet without another glance at the officer leaving. He slips it under the new stack of files at the edge of his desk and, remarkably, ignores it, Jensen, and the food, even while the smell of fries and other greasy flavors tempt him.

“You had to do it.”

Jared focuses on the folder open before him and breathes deep. “Yeah, I did.”

“Great, okay,” Jensen grunts.

His voice gets tough as he says, “I had to. And you know why? Because you’re like a fuckin’ vice today.” At Jensen’s eye roll, Jared adds, “Even more than normal.”

“Could’ve just asked me,” Jensen replies as he goes to his computer and purposely doesn’t look at Jared.

“Jensen, were you at the beach the night Sophia died?”

“No.”

“Okay then.”

Jared sees Jensen’s hand tense up on his mouse, fingers locking into a partially bent position, and his eyes don’t move from a spot on his monitor. “You gonna look at it or what?” Jensen asks sharply.

“You want me to?”

“You’re gonna do it the second I leave my desk. Just fucking look now,” he shoots back while smacking his mouse to the desk and glaring at Jared.

He fights doing it, only because he wants them to return to five minutes before Collins delivered the information. But he can’t back down from the challenge; he tugs the paper out and flips it open. “John Murray.”

“There,” Jensen says with a shitty smile.

“Yeah, okay. I’m sorry.” They can both hear how little he means it, but then Jared stares at the paper. “John Murray,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, not Jensen Ackles,” Jensen replies hotly as he moves back behind the computer screen.

“Murray.”

“Oh.”

Jared sucks on his bottom lip and keeps his eyes on the scribbled name. “Yeah.”

Slowly, Jensen points out, “It’s a common name.”

“Yeah,” he replies, quite unsure.

“Not necessarily related to the victim.”

“Yeah,” Jared repeats much the same way then shoves the slip of paper back under the stack of files.

“Are you seriously this cynical?”

His eyes snap to Jensen and he can feel his hackles rise with how angry Jensen looks.

“You’re just going to jump to conclusions?” Jensen complains as he flings his hand across his desk that fires a pen to the floor. “You think I’m tied into this but don’t even fucking ask and now you’re gonna sit on this and assume the worst.”

“What’re you talking about?” Jared argues with wide eyes. “It’s my job to be cynical.”

“It’s your job to work a fucking case with your partner. You mind doing that instead of hiding all your little notions?”

“Oh, I’m hiding,” he laughs harshly, but anything else is cut off when they spot Beaver entering the bullpen with two other suited men following him. “Who’s that?”

“Internal Affairs?” Jensen mumbles. When Jared looks at Jensen, Jensen grants him a quick glance then sighs.

“What’re they doin’ here?”

“How should I know?” Jensen snaps, though it’s quiet and only grabs Jared’s attention even more.

Beaver steps up to their desks with a sharp look.

“You girls need a time-out or somethin’?”

“Damn right,” Jensen snaps as he stands. He yanks his jacket off the back of his chair and stalks out of the room.

“You gonna run after him?” Beaver asks, though he doesn’t sound interested in the slightest.

In fact, when Jared mumbles, “Maybe later,” his boss is already out of sight.

Jared spends the next half hour researching both John and Gina Murray, and it doesn’t take long to find out that they’d been married for six years, divorced for the past two. He dives deeper to find out if there was any bad blood between them, all the while unable to ignore the correlation between Josh Bell’s account of John Murray being around Sophia Price the night she died and this here.

It’s another hour of combing through records: employment, housing, credit cards, moving violations, and parking tickets. Nothing raises a red flag besides being the name Bell had dropped concerning the Alderman and her having married and divorced John Murray, but Jared keeps going.

“Next time you wanna fuck me, dinner would be nice.”

He rolls his eyes at the screen and does his best to ignore the ADA suddenly hovering over his desk.

“Maybe at least a drink. I may not be a high-class escort, but I’m not a cheap whore.”

Jared smacks his lips together then looks up to Welling’s heated face. “I’ll try to remember that.”

Welling shoves some files from the corner of Jared’s desk so he can lean down and plant two fists on it. “Couldn’t at least give me a head’s up that you’d be traipsing all over Statesville and offering deals? Instead I gotta come back to my boss and explain why I’d be transferring inmates without my knowledge.”

Leaning back in his chair, Jared crosses his arms and lightly rocks. “It wasn’t me, but I’ll pass along the message.”

“Oh, so your dick of partner over there,” he snarls, nodding to the empty desk across the way, “is just handing out pardons?”

“He didn’t just hand it out,” Jared defends instantly, because even when he and Jensen are fighting, he can’t help but stand up for the guy. Their partnership on the force has always been the most important thing between them, and there’s no way he’ll let someone drag Jensen down. “And maybe if you didn’t walk a kid down Death Row with a fucking bow tied around his neck, it wouldn’t be such a problem.”

“Maybe if you cavemen actually did your jobs.”

Jared shoots up from his desk and glares down on Welling, but then decides he can’t stand to look at him anymore. He grabs his suit jacket from his chair and waves a hand in the air with a mocking smile. "I’m gonna go do my job… somewhere else. Nice talk, Tommy.”



Jared texts Jensen a few times to find out where he is, and with the curt responses of nowhere followed by fuck off, he’s pretty sure to find Jensen at the corner of his neighborhood bar. And he does: Jensen’s got both elbows on the bar, hands cupped around a rocks glass, and eyes glued to the flat screen TV in the other corner.

“Welling sends his love,” Jared says as he slides onto the barstool next to Jensen. “And the next time you plan to bend him over his desk, he’d like flowers and a steak dinner first.”

Jensen finishes what’s left of his drink then drops the glass to the bar with a clank. “You sold me out.”

“Not quite,” he says lightly before ordering a draft beer. “But I didn’t take the fall so he’s on to you.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Jensen nudges his glass to the edge of the counter for a refill then takes a deep breath as he sits back on the stool. “So what d’you want?” he asks, crossing his arms and staring at Jared.

“Why do I always have to want something?” Jared takes a light sip of his beer then glances at Jensen. “Maybe I just miss your charming personality.”

He snorts but moves his eyes to the Bulls getting killed by Miami in high definition. “I hate O’Neal,” he mumbles.

Jared looks to the screen then shakes his head as he takes another drink. “Since when do you care about basketball?”

“Since it’s the only thing on.”

Jared leans back and mimics Jensen’s position with his arms crossed, though he looks over to him a few times. “John Murray’s her ex-husband.” Jensen only blinks at the TV. “I don’t wanna be an asshole-”

“But you’re gonna be,” Jensen cuts in.

He tries to not be annoyed with Jensen’s attitude, because he’s sure his partner’s got a few drinks in him already and they haven’t exactly been playing nice today. “But the last time I didn’t just ask, you got pissed at me.” He sees Jensen’s long inhale puff out his chest, and he continues, “Did you know him?”

His eyes flick around, nowhere far from the TV, but enough that Jared gets antsy with the answer, even when he can anticipate the low, “Yeah.”

“Jen,” he groans, struggling to keep more words inside.

Jensen’s shoulders rise as he tightens his arms at his chest. “He dated Sophia a few times while we were on a break.”

Jared shifts forward, hands curling around his pint glass as he sighs, takes a drink, and then stares at Jensen. “Next time, maybe you could tell me when you know people we’re dealing with?”

He doesn’t look at Jared, keeping silent for long enough that Jared’s convinced the conversation’s over. “I barely knew Gina,” he offers, eyes still glued to the blow-out winding down into the final minutes of the fourth quarter. “Saw her a few times, but didn’t know much about her.”

Groaning again, Jared pushes a hand through his hair. He cuts his elbows into the bar and hangs his head over his glass before drinking again, longer than before, and sighing as he puts his beer back down. “Does anyone else know?”

“No.”

“You think that’s why IAD was at the station?”

Jensen just snorts and grabs his glass to take a long drink.

Jared twists to glance at Jensen and is put off when Jensen won’t tear his eyes from the game. He turns back to stare down on the bar, pushing fingers into his temples to settle his nerves. “I don’t know what to do,” he admits. “You know these people. I don’t like this at all.”

“You think I do?” When Jared looks over, Jensen’s eyes are solid on his. Then Jensen’s voice drops and his gaze softens. “I don’t know what the hell to do either.”

He shifts towards Jensen, resting a hand on the back of the stool with his thumb grazing Jensen’s back. “Fucking talk to me, man. I’m your partner.” Jensen doesn’t move or respond, so Jared adds, “More than that. I’m not gonna let you deal with this on your own. I’m in it, too, you know?”

Jensen doesn’t say anything, but he does push back against Jared’s hand, which prompts Jared to swipe a few fingers across his shirt in comfort.



“Is Welling gonna follow through?” Jensen asks carefully from the corner of his sofa while Jared grabs a beer from the fridge, a reserve he’s surprised Jensen had seemed to start for him just recently.

It’s the first he’s talked about their situation since the bar, since Jared insisted they deal with it together then dropped it for the sake of trying to actually enjoy some time with his partner for once today. “I don’t know,” he replies just as carefully as he walks to the couch and drops into the other side.

Jensen scrubs a hand over his face, a bit drunk but not totally helpless; Jared knows him well enough to tell the difference. “If he screws this kid over any more …”

“You gonna break him out?” Jared asks with an awkward smile because he’s not exactly trying to joke, but he wouldn’t mind easing the mood.

“Jay,” he says with a flat tone and look.

Jared throws a hand out and argues, “Jensen, the DA’s office will do whatever can be done when it can be done. It’s not certain that the two girls are tied together, so they have to wait until we find something else.”

“It’s kinda obvious, ain’t it?”

He sighs and tips his head back against the couch cushion. “Just … we already fucked up one case. We’ll go slow and do everything by the books.”

With a tip of his head, Jensen glares at him. “Are you saying I didn’t?”

“No, I’m not-”

“That’s what it sounds like,” he huffs as he rises and walks to his balcony, tugging hard on the sliding door to open it. He’s outside and lighting up a cigarette in seconds, but still complains loud enough that Jared can hear him. “Didn’t do the last one by the books. Talked that kid into a confession. Rushed through it on account of the Alderman.”

Jared moves to the balcony, one hand tight around the door and the other at the frame. “Not what I’m sayin’.”

Jensen shakes his head and takes a long drag, exhaling it into a smoky haze around him. “Then what are you saying?”

“That we’ll take our time and look at everything.” Jensen turns at that, and Jared hurries to say, “More than last time. We won’t be rushed into solving a high-profile case.”

“You don’t think this is now? A double homicide?”

Jared steps onto the balcony and settles next to Jensen, resting his arms on the railing. “Call it that when it is, alright? We gotta stop jumping to conclusions.”

Jensen keeps quiet as he moves to stump his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray then goes back to the railing, leaning over it like Jared. “We have to go see her place in the morning,” he finally says, more in dire need than fact.

“We will.”

Jensen sighs and it forces Jared to move closer, tipping his head onto Jensen’s shoulder, mouth closed but pressing into his shirt. “I hate this job,” Jensen grumbles.

“No, you don’t,” Jared says against him.

After a few moments, he amends, “I hate this case.” Longer yet, Jensen stays quiet. Then he smooths a hand over Jared’s hip, fingers squeezing lightly before trailing over the curve of his ass as he rests his lips at the top of Jared’s head. “Stay tonight?”

“Jen,” he argues, but it dies there. It’s not so much that he doesn’t want to, or that it hasn’t happened - even if it has been a while since they spent time at Jensen’s place. But he still has his rules to stand by.

Jensen pushes at his hip and backs off. “Right. Your tradition.”

“Last time we broke it and look where we are now.”

“Right, because that was the problem,” Jensen fires back, riled up all over again, and Jared sighs as he stands up. “We fucked around after I got a false confession out of him. It’s not like it directly brought the kid down.”

“It’s not like that.” Jared’s prepared to go on to explain that it’s the nature of his mind, and a thing about good luck and keeping up what’s always worked for him, even before he was partnered with Jensen let alone sleeping with him.

“Fuck, you know,” Jensen sighs. “Sometimes I just wish it wasn’t all of this. That we weren’t even …”

Jared freezes then, sure of what Jensen’s trying to say, but still wanting to hear it. “That we weren’t what?”

Jensen rubs a hand over his head and looks out onto his neighborhood. “That we weren’t even partners. That it could just be this. Or, shit, if we were partners and it wasn’t this.”

“We’ve been doing this for a year,” he manages to say without sounding too pathetic.

With a harsh chuckle, Jensen shakes his head. “What? Did I miss an anniversary?”

“No, and fuck you,” Jared says with only a little bit of heat. “Just, you could’ve said this before. Some time before it got complicated.”

“It wasn’t ever not complicated.”

For a moment, Jared’s taken back to when they first were assigned to each other, and how easily they fell into step and friendship. But also of how hard it was to navigate with so much unsettled between them, taking a few years to finally come to something.

Jared’s only sense of comfort comes in what he’s already told Jensen, and he reaches out for him, only to have Jensen grab Jared’s hand to keep it from reaching his neck. Jared still says, “I’m not letting you deal with this alone. We’re partners and it’s our case.”

Jensen pushes their hands out and away but doesn’t let go of Jared. “Stop with the fucking case. I’m trying to talk to you like a real person right now.”

He twists his wrist, and Jensen lets him move enough to hold his hand, fingers twining. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to just be here, but I don’t know what you want. You don’t exactly make this easy, either.”

They stare at each other for a bit and then Jensen lets Jared’s hand go and turns back against the railing and remains quiet.

Just as Jared sits down on a nearby chair, Jensen clears his throat and moves to the door. “I’m gonna crash,” he murmurs. “I’ll meet you at her place in the morning.”

Jared shoots back up and follows Jensen inside and through the apartment, carefully arguing, “That’s it? Conversation over?”

Jensen stops in front of his bedroom, loosening the knot of his tie with an angry smile. “I’m gonna drop into bed and fuck my hand. If you wanna help you’re more than welcome to stay.”

Waving a hand, Jared spins away. “Yeah, whatever,” he grumbles and leaves without another look back.



When Jared steps through the front door, Jensen’s already combing through a cabinet in the far corner of the living room, and Morgan’s directing his people to bag and tag every single slip of paper, no matter how insignificant.

“Glad you could join us,” Morgan says sarcastically.

“Next time I’ll bring a note from my mother,” Jared returns as he crosses the living room without a care for Morgan’s eye when he approaches Jensen. “What’s he doing here?” he quietly asks his partner.

“It’s the 21st’s until something good comes up,” Jensen replies, low and flat as he continues searching through credit card slips in the second drawer of the oak bureau.

Jared stands close to Jensen, keeping an on Morgan as he drops his voice. “I talked to some people at Friends of the Parks.”

Jensen instantly faces Jared, eyes wide. “Yeah?”

“They didn’t have much, but they said that Gina Murray was being pestered by a cop. Someone who had a line with the Alderman.”

Biting into his top lip, Jensen turns back to the bureau and starts again on the pile of envelopes in his hand.

“Did you hear me?” Jared asks.

“Yeah,” he grumbles.

“So you don’t care?”

“Can’t do anything right now.”

Jared shifts behind Jensen and looks over his shoulder. “You got anything there?”

“No.”

He flicks through a few envelopes on top of the dresser, ones that Jensen’d already gone through and had stacked neatly for the crime scene unit to take.

Jensen drops another bundle right on Jared’s hand then flashes him a sharp look before grabbing another handful of papers from the drawer. “I got those already,” he grumbles.

“What? I can’t take a look?”

“What? I can’t do my job?” Jensen asks as he crouches down to tug open the bottom drawer.

Jared sighs and fights putting his hands on his hips in anger. Instead he glances around the room and rolls his eyes at Morgan watching them. He sighs and turns to Jensen again. “Can you save me from talking to Serpico over there any more than I have to and tell me what you haven’t gone through yet?”

Standing, Jensen pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek and looks through yet another handful of envelops.

“Jen,” he murmurs. “Are you kidding me?”

“Try the bedroom. I bet you can find a whole mess of shit in there that don’t mean anything.”

Narrowing his eyes, he huffs. There’s a tiny smirk on Jensen’s face, but it seems more bitter than playful, and Jared heads to the bedroom without bothering to keep the bickering-silent mix going.

A few hours pass through the search and Jared does his best to keep to himself even when conversations around him are of too much interest to wholly ignore. The crime scene unit finds short blond hairs in the bathroom sink. Morgan uncovers e-tickets for travel the day they found Gina Murray. Jensen connects a handful of bank statements with large deposits.

They’re all pieces to look into, but at the moment they don’t do much but make them impatient.

It’s a little while longer, after searching the entirety of the walk-in closet, when Jared reaches under the bed to snag an errant slip of paper, and his fingers catch on splintered wood. Cursing at the sharp dig that cuts through his latex gloves right to his skin, he moves to his knees and looks over the reddened scrape at his fingertips, blood dribbling to the surface. He pulls the glove off and sucks at the ends then ducks back down and sees the small lift of wood that he’d caught himself on. He reaches back under with his other hand, and the second the sheet of wood flooring wiggles, he’s smiling, heart beating fast.

He pulls the slat up and slides it over to get his fingertips down to feel … what, he’s not sure, but there’s something. Sitting back up, he shoulders the bed, rolling it a few feet, scraping wheels across the floor and drawing attention from the few officers near the bedroom.

In the center of the opening, there’s a small, amber-colored chest.

“What d’you got?” Morgan asks as he shuffles into the room.

“Something Gina didn’t want anyone to find.”

Morgan crouches next to him, watching as Jared favors his cut fingers and only uses his gloved hand to put the chest onto the bed and play with the lock. It’s enough to keep him out right now but cheap enough that he knows he can handle it. He wouldn’t always think to force something like this, but he’s reminded that it’s a victim’s belongings; they’d get into this anyway.

“Jensen,” he calls out, and the second his partner’s in the doorway, he makes a motion with his fingers that has Jensen reaching into an inside pocket then tossing a small pack across the room, landing atop the blankets. Jensen lingers for a second but then turns away and Jared watches the doorway for another second, at least accepting that Jensen handed over the packet without question.

Morgan, on the other hand, asks, “I even wanna know? You’re not screwing with my scene, are you?”

“You want it open, right?” he asks while opening the lock pick set.

Morgan’s standing over him with hands firm on his hips. “I want you to keep this apartment clean. Everything’ll be tied to me.”

“I can drop it off the balcony, but then you’d have two crime scenes on site.” Morgan takes a few steps away, grumbling distaste for not just what Jared’s about to do, but for Jared, himself. It makes Jared smirk, knowing that Morgan won’t stop him even while dressing him down for this. “Not a big deal,” Jared mumbles while working the pick around the hole. “This thing’s so cheap, they’ll believe it never locked in the first place.”

When it clicks open, Morgan steps impossibly closer, and Jared brings his eyes up while raising a hand in what little personal space he has left. “What?” Morgan snaps. “This is my investigation.”

“And this is my find,” he smarts back.

“You fuck this up-”

“I’ll lock it right back up if you don’t get off my ass.”

Morgan moves a few feet back with a tsk. “And here I thought we were startin’ to get along.”

“Yeah, keep thinkin’ that,” Jared says while eying how much distance Morgan finally gives up with another step away. He waits longer, until Morgan rolls his eyes, flipping a hand into the air with anger, and then leaves Jared to himself in the bedroom.

Jared spends some time going through the box. It’s mostly photos from Gina Murray’s younger days and a few mementos: movie ticket stubs, a seashell, and a pink, plastic ring that likely came from a gumball machine. Jared flips through the photos slowly, taking in each face and mentally logging if any show something’s off.

Then he finds it. It’s not anything he was particularly looking for but he knows it’s something to be alarmed by.

There’s a knock at the door, and Morgan’s there, looking and sounding annoyed and pushy. “You get those to my guys then let them finish their work. I’ll call when we have news.”

Jared hardly manages to swallow, only nods then goes back to the photos like there’s nothing wrong. As soon as Morgan’s gone, he pulls the one picture from the pack and takes another look at Jensen, young and smiling with Sophia Price at his side and Gina Murray tucked under the other arm.

He shoves it into his back pants pocket then sets the chest back in order for the unit on scene to log it.