PG-13 | The Agent & the Analyst, Part 1
Title: The Agent & the Analyst, Part I
Words: 3500
Rating: PG-13 for language
Summary: Jensen is a surly government analyst and Jared is the bodyguard that always smiles.
Notes: This started in my head from watching late S3 West Wing with CJ/Simon, who I adore ... and then I decided to make this a thing. So, it's kind of a WIP. There will be timestamps/parts; it's a thing now.
Jensen sighs. “This is not a big deal.”
“This is a very big deal,” Danneel, a coworker, insists as she leans back in his chair. Which is behind his desk. And meant for him.
Meanwhile, he’s resting against a nearby filing cabinet that’s older than he is, and suddenly the top drawer pops open. He frowns, sighs again, and smacks the drawer back into place. He stands up and throws his arms out. “It’s not.”
“It is,” she insists and crosses her arms. He crosses his, too, but she seems meaner about it. “I’m calling Jeff.”
He moves to block the way around his desk and complains, “No, you’re not.” Then he pathetically drops his arms to his sides as she grabs his desk phone. “And yet now you’re calling him.”
“Jeff, we need you down in Jensen’s office.” Danneel pauses and eyes Jensen as she gravely states, “We have a Code 17.”
Jensen leans against the file cabinet then tosses his hand out and covers his face when the drawer slips open again. Once she’s off the phone, he rolls his eyes. “You know the man’s name is Jeffrey.”
She smiles as she stands then nudges the drawer shut. “Maybe for you.”
“You shouldn’t be fraternizing with the enemy.”
“He’s in Internal Observations. They are not the enemy”
“Near enough.”
They can’t argue more on it because Jeffrey is now sitting behind Jensen’s desk and his fingers are flying across the keyboard. Jeffrey Morgan and his department are like the nicer version of Internal Affairs, if there were a way for them to be nice. They have about the same kind of reputation around this place as IA does in most police stations.
Danneel, however, is leaning in close to Jeffrey, murmuring and pointing out the emails she’d read from over Jensen’s shoulder less than thirty minutes ago.
Jensen sighs. “It’s not like I didn’t have my own work to do today.”
Jeffrey and Danneel each glance up, but don’t reply then focus back on the monitor. Soon enough, Jensen takes to tapping his nails at the top of the metal filing cabinet and he’s secretly celebrating when Jeff and Danneel look at him once more. Yet, again, they go back to searching his laptop and it’s entirely too ridiculous.
“So, you’ve observed internal … things,” he finishes with a flourish of his hand. “We’re good now, right?”
It’s a longer look that Jeff dishes him, and quite a bit unkind.
“Look, it’s not a big deal, alright?” Jensen offers, trying to sound calm. “I traced 4chan users and now they’re all over my ass. It’s just retaliation.”
“Jensen, they have your civil email,” Danneel points out.
And okay, yeah, so he followed a thread of flagged internet bloggers for the last four weeks and then his personal account was flooded with inane spammers and a handful of potentially legitimate threats. If he could really believe that much on the internet was legitimate these days, he’d actually be worried.
He’s spent the last fifteen years working for the government with the Internet Ops division, and he’s learned a thing or two about identifying credible offenses. It seems as though ninety-eight percent of what passes his desk is wrapped up in bitter, over-educated kids who know too much about coding and like to laugh when web sites fall down.
It’s highly likely this is what they’re all staring at.
“Still, it’s not that big of a deal. Right, Jeff?” Jensen tries kindly to get out of the situation.
“This is a big deal,” the man replies, firm and terse. He stands from Jensen’s chair and straightens his suite coat. “And it’s Jeffrey.”
Jensen watches him go then rolls his eyes when he finds Danneel grinning at the now-empty doorway. “So what’s next?”
“You should probably start calling him Jeffrey.”
He makes a face. “I always did. I was just trying to be nice … And I mean with the emails.”
Danneel shrugs. “Wait it out for IO to do their thing.”
“Oh, that’s rich. By the time Internal Observations is done observing, I’ll probably be dead.”
She eyes him for a long moment then crosses her arms with attitude. “I thought it wasn’t a big deal?”
He does the same, trying to hide how she’s totally trapped him. “It isn’t. And it was just an exaggeration.”
“Mmhmm.”
Jensen nudges her out of the way so he can sit back down at his desk and eloquently insist, “Shut up. I have work to do.”
“You go get yourself some hennoi.”
“It’s hentai,” he corrects then cringes when she laughs at him.
*
It’s at 7:44 the next morning that Jensen finds out that what’s next is a six-foot-five body builder in a monkey suit.
Jensen is standing in front of his office with his backpack over one arm and a piping hot styrofoam cup of coffee in the other. Yet he can’t enter because said money-suited wrestler is taking up the entirety of the doorway to his office, legs shoulder-width apart and arms folded neatly at his back.
“Can I help you?” Jensen asks.
The man politely smiles and it’s really unfair that Jensen is thinking it’s a nice look on him. “Jensen Ackles?”
“No, but can I pass along a message?” If he’s learned anything in his career, it’s to be suspicious.
“You can tell yourself that I’m new your bodyguard.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your new bodyguard.”
Jensen takes him in from head to toe and he really is a giant. “I didn’t have an old one.”
The man motions between them. “Jensen Ackles. Agent Jared Padalecki.”
Jensen eyes him. “Why’d you ask if you knew it was me?”
“Polite gesture and all.”
“Can you politely gesture yourself out of my way?” When the man does nothing more than offer a kind smile, Jensen tips his head back and sighs then rolls his shoulders. “Okay, look, agent, you can-”
“Padalecki.”
“What?”
“Agent Padalecki.”
“You’re serious?”
Padalecki curtly nods. “We take everything seriously.”
“Of course you do,” Jensen allows tiredly. “Alright, look. You’re an agent, and you’ve got a job to do. I get that. But I do, too, so if you could just sashay outta my doorway, that’d be great.”
“Of course, sir,” Padalecki says. He shuffles a few feet, turns the doorknob, and pushes the door open for Jensen.
Jensen purposely enters his office with as much room between him and the agent as possible. In the twelve hours since he’d last been at work, he’s convinced himself that the threats are no condition to worry about, probably just a few kids on summer vacation filling the days. Coming face to face with a bodyguard is not how he wants to acknowledge the situation.
Once Jensen sits, he looks up and harps, “What are you doing?”
Padalecki is standing just inside the office with his hands clutched in front and watching Jensen. “Pardon, sir?”
“Are you really going to stand here all day?”
“Yes, sir,” he smiles.
“All day?”
“Yes, sir.”
“While I work, you’re just gonna … stand there?”
Jared nods and kindly smiles once more. “As long as you’re here, I will be, too.”
“Christ, no,” Jensen mutters and jumps up from his desk. He marches into the hallway and yells, “Danneel!” Once her head pops out of her office, he insists, “Get your boyfriend to get this monster off my doorstep.” When he turns to point at the offending person, Jensen yelps because the agent is actually standing right behind Jensen with that same serene look on his face. “You cannot do that.”
“Do what?”
“Just, sneak up on me.”
“It is my responsibility to not be obvious.”
Jensen heads back to his office, laughing bitterly. “You’re eight feet tall. How is that not obvious?”
“I make it work.”
“I’ll bet,” Jensen mumbles, trying not to acknowledge how the agent smirks at him.
*
Jensen huffs. “I do not need a chaperone!”
“The Service insists on-”
“Making my life miserable.” Jensen shoves his shoulder into the door leading to the parking lot and walks quick and with purpose to hopefully lose Padalecki.
Unfortunately, the man’s long legs allow him keep up. “The Service insists on you having an escort at all times.”
When he reaches his car, Jensen closes his eyes and tries to keep from acting out. He’s an adult; he can handle an adult conversation. He slowly turns to face Padalecki. “At all times?”
“Yes, sir.”
Jensen wants to correct him, hates hearing sir, but he refuses to give in on the first day. “Even when I’m at home?” As Padalecki starts another yes, sir, Jensen shuts his eyes and puts his hand out to stop him. “No sir. Just … don’t with sirs. That’s all you say … all day long.”
Padalecki glances away while licking his lips then turns back to Jensen with a smirk. “So long as I’m on assignment, you’re not to leave my sight. Even at home,” he adds when Jensen tries to interrupt. “Especially there. I need to check the house and then I will stay out of the way. It’ll be like I’m not even there.”
Jensen assesses Jared for about the tenth time today, and he’s very certain it’s impossible to not know that Jared is there. “And if I say no?”
Jared smirks and gives Jensen a look that says he thinks Jensen is an adorable eight-year-old who keeps asking Why? “I am not the only Secret Service Agent aware of your case.”
Jensen feels his stomach drop. “They’re at my house right now, aren’t they?”
“Yes, si--Jensen.”
Groaning, Jensen gets into his car. There is no way he wants to be on a first-name basis with Agent King Kong.
*
The next morning is worse than the one before. Mostly because when he wakes up, all he bothers to do is put his glasses on and head into the kitchen for coffee and had altogether forgotten about Agent Padalecki until he jumps out of his skin when he sees the man at his kitchen table.
Padalecki serenely smiles at him then silently sips his coffee.
“That is not even fair,” Jensen grumbles. Especially since he’d fallen asleep with Padalecki out in his unmarked car. This morning, the agent is dressed neatly and clean shaven, hair side-parted and slicked back. There are no signs that he slept in his car all night.
It all seems strange, and he brings it up to Danneel once he’s at work and they’re both at the coffee maker.
“I mean, where does he shower?” Jensen looks over his shoulder to affirm that Padalecki is far enough away, standing near the garbage can and innocently glancing around. “Did he use my neighbor’s bathroom? My lawn hose? Is he some kind of robot that just resets itself at sunrise?”
Danneel narrows her eyes at Jensen. “Are you aware of what you’re saying?”
Jensen nods. “And what do you think?”
“That you’re highly deranged and need to retake the psych evaluation.”
He frowns, but it’s worse when she leaves and Padalecki smiles at him, crossing his hands together at his waist and somehow looking casually formal. “The Service has access to your guest house.”
Jensen decides to ignore the horror of being heard and thinks over all that he knows of surveillance and how deep it can go without tripping off a target. “There are cameras, aren’t there?”
Jared nods politely, face still smooth and friendly.
He wants to yell and throw shit and punch anything, but all he has is Padalecki in front of him. “You are incredibly invasive, you know that?”
*
Jensen didn’t know how just invasive the situation would be until a few evenings later when he’s at the dining room table with a case file spread out on the surface and he’s hunched over his laptop conducting further research.
The floor creaks behind him and Jensen is certain he does not squeak or clutch his chest when he spins his seat to find Padalecki leaning down to glance at his laptop. He is really freaking tired of this happening.
“What is that macro doing?” the agent asks.
Jensen closes the laptop enough so Jared can’t keep snooping. “It’s confidential,” Jensen insists, holding his head high.
Padalecki rights himself and is obvious with how he sets his hands on his hips so that his holstered weapon stands out.
Jensen resolutely does not gulp. He may hold his breath for a second or two then turn back to the laptop, though. “At the very least it’s really uninteresting for you, I’m sure.”
The agent rounds the table and smoothly slides into the chair across from Jensen. It’s now too obvious to note how tanned Padalecki is, that he’s removed his standard jacket, and now has the sleeves of his white oxford shirt rolled up to his elbows. That might be the worst part because now Jensen can’t stop watching how the skin, veins, and muscles roll as Padalecki folds his hands over one another quite casually. “Who says I would find it uninteresting?”
Jensen feels bad for the assumption, but still says, “I just don’t see internet coding to be among your interests.”
Padalecki tightly smiles and two dimples appear. Once again, Jensen is cursing this entire situation. He grants himself a second to consider that if he met this guy in a bar, he’d happily smile right back. But no, Agent Padalecki is in Jensen’s life because someone is threatening it. And that is never a pleasant reminder.
On that thought, Jensen asks, “So how are you doing catching my stalker?”
“Mmm, yeah,” Padalecki replies with a tight smile but incredibly bright eyes. “I’m afraid that is beyond your interests.”
“I think it’s incredibly relevant to my interests.” After a calming breath, Jensen sets his arms on the table and tries to be affable. “Someone has threatened me bodily harm and thus you are my living shadow. I like my home. I enjoy my quiet, lonely life. Therefore, you being here is incredibly disruptive. I think I am owed an update on the situation.”
Padalecki shifts in his seat and presses his palms to the glass. “Is there a reason you are so difficult to the situation?”
“I’m pretty difficult in any situation,” Jensen smarts back. He only regrets it a little.
“Would it matter if I told you there were no threats or a dozen more?”
“There are a dozen?” Jensen asks quickly.
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Oh, you!” Jensen exclaims as he jumps out of his chair and swiftly walks to the kitchen. He grabs a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet below and to the right, and pours himself a short glass, all the while ranting. “You’re worse than the White House with this kind of shit. Not at liberty to say if my life is in more danger than it was before? You’re a real treat with that kind of attitude.” He bitterly laughs and downs the double shot with difficulty, having to wipe his mouth and chin.
Padalecki leans on the island between them and awkwardly frowns. It’s the first time he doesn’t seem polished and capable of handling whatever Jensen has to throw at him. “It is for your benefit that you continue on with your life as uninterrupted as possible, no matter what. And as far as being in danger, like it or not, I would harbor a guess that it’s less with me as your shadow.”
Jensen doesn’t want to reply, but he rather dislikes that Padalecki has the upper hand at this moment. He lifts his glass up and belatedly remembers he’d already finished the drink, so he angrily drops it into the sink.
“I know I’m not often welcome, given the reason for my placement. But there has to come a time that you become comfortable with the idea that so long as I’m here, you’re gonna be okay.”
Even though he hates it, he knows the agent is right. He’s not ready to acknowledge it, though, so he stares at his feet and waits until he’s left alone in the kitchen.
He has another few inches of whiskey, but all it does is make him tired and ashamed. And unaware of what he’s doing until he’s taking the stone path from his back door out to the guest house.
It’s his own place, but he still knocks and waits a few seconds before opening the door. No matter what he knows of the government’s capabilities, it’s a surprise to find the front area half taken up by surveillance footage that shows all the lovely parts to Jensen’s home.
He gulps, especially when he realizes three monitors are outdoor cameras - two out front and the other in the backyard, where Jensen had just walked.
Nervously, he jokes, “Surprised you let me in, seeing me coming and all.”
Jared has been standing in front of the couch the entire time, as if he’s on high-alert of Jensen’s presence. He unrolls his shirt sleeves and tugs them down, as if he needs to be professional at eleven at night.
Jensen waves at the screens. “Do you ever actually rest? Or do you just mainline caffeine all night and watch me sleep?”
“I prefer Red Bull, and it’s actually quite relaxing to watch.”
Oh God, Jared watches him sleep. Jensen quickly catches Jared’s twinkling look and he can’t deny that he’s been a total jackass to Jared since the first moment, that Jared is incredibly friendly and charming and impossible to avoid, and at some point tonight, Jensen had stopped considering this man as an agent and his mind is now supplying his first name.
Jensen uncomfortably laughs to cover the long silence as he deliberated all of that. “You’re joking.”
Jared nods and smiles. “I am joking. I have relief at night so I can sleep.”
“That’s good, yeah.” He feels foolish to suddenly worry over the state of the guest house, but he does. “The sheets and pillows okay? It’s not like I knew you’d be here.”
He smiles a bit more. “It’s very nice in here.”
“Are there really a dozen new threats?” Jensen asks quickly, because for the last two hours, he couldn’t seem to get that worry out of his head.
Jared’s body goes rigid, like he’s back to professional mode. Or in heavy-duty professional mode, considering he seems to almost always be on to some degree. “I think it’s best for you not to worry about it.”
Jensen fidgets in place. “That feels like a ‘yes, but we’re not gonna talk about it’.”
“Do you really want to talk about it?”
“No, I suppose not,” he admits easily. It’s far too close to the truth. “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time. It’s just … this is new for me, you know?”
“Well, it’s not for me,” Jared offers easily. “You’re in good hands.”
Jensen suddenly can’t stop staring at Jared’s large, tanned, sculpted hands on his trim waist. He snaps his eyes up to Jared’s and nervously smiles. “That’s … that’s good to know. In tough times. I’m in good hands.”
It’s a near-miss, but Jensen is certain that Jared winks at him. “You are.”
“Good to know,” Jensen repeats and nods, certain he’s said enough. He waves and nods again as he leaves, only stalling for a second when he hears Jared murmur apology accepted.
*
It isn’t as though everything changes.
In the morning, Jensen is feeling groggy from the alcohol and lack of sleep as he contemplated not only their conversation and his potentially inappropriate comments and looks, but also that Jared may be around for a while. It’s bothersome in that Jensen is almost thankful he doesn’t have to say goodbye to the agent just yet.
It is a bit easier, less tense for them to drive to work together, for Jared to follow him into his office and even for a stop in the kitchen.
“Morning,” he mumbles to Danneel when she steps up next to him at the coffee machine.
“Morning, Jensen.” She flashes a smile to Jared in the corner. “Morning, Agent.”
Jensen glances over his shoulder and smiles affably when Jared turns his smile from Danneel to him. But then he frowns when Danneel is critically assessing him.
She crowds his personal space, then he’s grumbling that he nearly fumbles his coffee all over the counter. “What happened?” she whispers.
“What happened with what?”
Danneel purposely looks at Jared and then watches as Jensen allows himself a quick check in Jared’s direction. “I thought you didn’t like fraternizing with the enemy?” she asks with an evil smirk.
Jensen stumbles around responses like I’m not and he’s not the enemy. Instead he just shrugs and goes back to work. It’s not really of her concern. Yet.
Part two
Words: 3500
Rating: PG-13 for language
Summary: Jensen is a surly government analyst and Jared is the bodyguard that always smiles.
Notes: This started in my head from watching late S3 West Wing with CJ/Simon, who I adore ... and then I decided to make this a thing. So, it's kind of a WIP. There will be timestamps/parts; it's a thing now.
Jensen sighs. “This is not a big deal.”
“This is a very big deal,” Danneel, a coworker, insists as she leans back in his chair. Which is behind his desk. And meant for him.
Meanwhile, he’s resting against a nearby filing cabinet that’s older than he is, and suddenly the top drawer pops open. He frowns, sighs again, and smacks the drawer back into place. He stands up and throws his arms out. “It’s not.”
“It is,” she insists and crosses her arms. He crosses his, too, but she seems meaner about it. “I’m calling Jeff.”
He moves to block the way around his desk and complains, “No, you’re not.” Then he pathetically drops his arms to his sides as she grabs his desk phone. “And yet now you’re calling him.”
“Jeff, we need you down in Jensen’s office.” Danneel pauses and eyes Jensen as she gravely states, “We have a Code 17.”
Jensen leans against the file cabinet then tosses his hand out and covers his face when the drawer slips open again. Once she’s off the phone, he rolls his eyes. “You know the man’s name is Jeffrey.”
She smiles as she stands then nudges the drawer shut. “Maybe for you.”
“You shouldn’t be fraternizing with the enemy.”
“He’s in Internal Observations. They are not the enemy”
“Near enough.”
They can’t argue more on it because Jeffrey is now sitting behind Jensen’s desk and his fingers are flying across the keyboard. Jeffrey Morgan and his department are like the nicer version of Internal Affairs, if there were a way for them to be nice. They have about the same kind of reputation around this place as IA does in most police stations.
Danneel, however, is leaning in close to Jeffrey, murmuring and pointing out the emails she’d read from over Jensen’s shoulder less than thirty minutes ago.
Jensen sighs. “It’s not like I didn’t have my own work to do today.”
Jeffrey and Danneel each glance up, but don’t reply then focus back on the monitor. Soon enough, Jensen takes to tapping his nails at the top of the metal filing cabinet and he’s secretly celebrating when Jeff and Danneel look at him once more. Yet, again, they go back to searching his laptop and it’s entirely too ridiculous.
“So, you’ve observed internal … things,” he finishes with a flourish of his hand. “We’re good now, right?”
It’s a longer look that Jeff dishes him, and quite a bit unkind.
“Look, it’s not a big deal, alright?” Jensen offers, trying to sound calm. “I traced 4chan users and now they’re all over my ass. It’s just retaliation.”
“Jensen, they have your civil email,” Danneel points out.
And okay, yeah, so he followed a thread of flagged internet bloggers for the last four weeks and then his personal account was flooded with inane spammers and a handful of potentially legitimate threats. If he could really believe that much on the internet was legitimate these days, he’d actually be worried.
He’s spent the last fifteen years working for the government with the Internet Ops division, and he’s learned a thing or two about identifying credible offenses. It seems as though ninety-eight percent of what passes his desk is wrapped up in bitter, over-educated kids who know too much about coding and like to laugh when web sites fall down.
It’s highly likely this is what they’re all staring at.
“Still, it’s not that big of a deal. Right, Jeff?” Jensen tries kindly to get out of the situation.
“This is a big deal,” the man replies, firm and terse. He stands from Jensen’s chair and straightens his suite coat. “And it’s Jeffrey.”
Jensen watches him go then rolls his eyes when he finds Danneel grinning at the now-empty doorway. “So what’s next?”
“You should probably start calling him Jeffrey.”
He makes a face. “I always did. I was just trying to be nice … And I mean with the emails.”
Danneel shrugs. “Wait it out for IO to do their thing.”
“Oh, that’s rich. By the time Internal Observations is done observing, I’ll probably be dead.”
She eyes him for a long moment then crosses her arms with attitude. “I thought it wasn’t a big deal?”
He does the same, trying to hide how she’s totally trapped him. “It isn’t. And it was just an exaggeration.”
“Mmhmm.”
Jensen nudges her out of the way so he can sit back down at his desk and eloquently insist, “Shut up. I have work to do.”
“You go get yourself some hennoi.”
“It’s hentai,” he corrects then cringes when she laughs at him.
*
It’s at 7:44 the next morning that Jensen finds out that what’s next is a six-foot-five body builder in a monkey suit.
Jensen is standing in front of his office with his backpack over one arm and a piping hot styrofoam cup of coffee in the other. Yet he can’t enter because said money-suited wrestler is taking up the entirety of the doorway to his office, legs shoulder-width apart and arms folded neatly at his back.
“Can I help you?” Jensen asks.
The man politely smiles and it’s really unfair that Jensen is thinking it’s a nice look on him. “Jensen Ackles?”
“No, but can I pass along a message?” If he’s learned anything in his career, it’s to be suspicious.
“You can tell yourself that I’m new your bodyguard.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your new bodyguard.”
Jensen takes him in from head to toe and he really is a giant. “I didn’t have an old one.”
The man motions between them. “Jensen Ackles. Agent Jared Padalecki.”
Jensen eyes him. “Why’d you ask if you knew it was me?”
“Polite gesture and all.”
“Can you politely gesture yourself out of my way?” When the man does nothing more than offer a kind smile, Jensen tips his head back and sighs then rolls his shoulders. “Okay, look, agent, you can-”
“Padalecki.”
“What?”
“Agent Padalecki.”
“You’re serious?”
Padalecki curtly nods. “We take everything seriously.”
“Of course you do,” Jensen allows tiredly. “Alright, look. You’re an agent, and you’ve got a job to do. I get that. But I do, too, so if you could just sashay outta my doorway, that’d be great.”
“Of course, sir,” Padalecki says. He shuffles a few feet, turns the doorknob, and pushes the door open for Jensen.
Jensen purposely enters his office with as much room between him and the agent as possible. In the twelve hours since he’d last been at work, he’s convinced himself that the threats are no condition to worry about, probably just a few kids on summer vacation filling the days. Coming face to face with a bodyguard is not how he wants to acknowledge the situation.
Once Jensen sits, he looks up and harps, “What are you doing?”
Padalecki is standing just inside the office with his hands clutched in front and watching Jensen. “Pardon, sir?”
“Are you really going to stand here all day?”
“Yes, sir,” he smiles.
“All day?”
“Yes, sir.”
“While I work, you’re just gonna … stand there?”
Jared nods and kindly smiles once more. “As long as you’re here, I will be, too.”
“Christ, no,” Jensen mutters and jumps up from his desk. He marches into the hallway and yells, “Danneel!” Once her head pops out of her office, he insists, “Get your boyfriend to get this monster off my doorstep.” When he turns to point at the offending person, Jensen yelps because the agent is actually standing right behind Jensen with that same serene look on his face. “You cannot do that.”
“Do what?”
“Just, sneak up on me.”
“It is my responsibility to not be obvious.”
Jensen heads back to his office, laughing bitterly. “You’re eight feet tall. How is that not obvious?”
“I make it work.”
“I’ll bet,” Jensen mumbles, trying not to acknowledge how the agent smirks at him.
*
Jensen huffs. “I do not need a chaperone!”
“The Service insists on-”
“Making my life miserable.” Jensen shoves his shoulder into the door leading to the parking lot and walks quick and with purpose to hopefully lose Padalecki.
Unfortunately, the man’s long legs allow him keep up. “The Service insists on you having an escort at all times.”
When he reaches his car, Jensen closes his eyes and tries to keep from acting out. He’s an adult; he can handle an adult conversation. He slowly turns to face Padalecki. “At all times?”
“Yes, sir.”
Jensen wants to correct him, hates hearing sir, but he refuses to give in on the first day. “Even when I’m at home?” As Padalecki starts another yes, sir, Jensen shuts his eyes and puts his hand out to stop him. “No sir. Just … don’t with sirs. That’s all you say … all day long.”
Padalecki glances away while licking his lips then turns back to Jensen with a smirk. “So long as I’m on assignment, you’re not to leave my sight. Even at home,” he adds when Jensen tries to interrupt. “Especially there. I need to check the house and then I will stay out of the way. It’ll be like I’m not even there.”
Jensen assesses Jared for about the tenth time today, and he’s very certain it’s impossible to not know that Jared is there. “And if I say no?”
Jared smirks and gives Jensen a look that says he thinks Jensen is an adorable eight-year-old who keeps asking Why? “I am not the only Secret Service Agent aware of your case.”
Jensen feels his stomach drop. “They’re at my house right now, aren’t they?”
“Yes, si--Jensen.”
Groaning, Jensen gets into his car. There is no way he wants to be on a first-name basis with Agent King Kong.
*
The next morning is worse than the one before. Mostly because when he wakes up, all he bothers to do is put his glasses on and head into the kitchen for coffee and had altogether forgotten about Agent Padalecki until he jumps out of his skin when he sees the man at his kitchen table.
Padalecki serenely smiles at him then silently sips his coffee.
“That is not even fair,” Jensen grumbles. Especially since he’d fallen asleep with Padalecki out in his unmarked car. This morning, the agent is dressed neatly and clean shaven, hair side-parted and slicked back. There are no signs that he slept in his car all night.
It all seems strange, and he brings it up to Danneel once he’s at work and they’re both at the coffee maker.
“I mean, where does he shower?” Jensen looks over his shoulder to affirm that Padalecki is far enough away, standing near the garbage can and innocently glancing around. “Did he use my neighbor’s bathroom? My lawn hose? Is he some kind of robot that just resets itself at sunrise?”
Danneel narrows her eyes at Jensen. “Are you aware of what you’re saying?”
Jensen nods. “And what do you think?”
“That you’re highly deranged and need to retake the psych evaluation.”
He frowns, but it’s worse when she leaves and Padalecki smiles at him, crossing his hands together at his waist and somehow looking casually formal. “The Service has access to your guest house.”
Jensen decides to ignore the horror of being heard and thinks over all that he knows of surveillance and how deep it can go without tripping off a target. “There are cameras, aren’t there?”
Jared nods politely, face still smooth and friendly.
He wants to yell and throw shit and punch anything, but all he has is Padalecki in front of him. “You are incredibly invasive, you know that?”
*
Jensen didn’t know how just invasive the situation would be until a few evenings later when he’s at the dining room table with a case file spread out on the surface and he’s hunched over his laptop conducting further research.
The floor creaks behind him and Jensen is certain he does not squeak or clutch his chest when he spins his seat to find Padalecki leaning down to glance at his laptop. He is really freaking tired of this happening.
“What is that macro doing?” the agent asks.
Jensen closes the laptop enough so Jared can’t keep snooping. “It’s confidential,” Jensen insists, holding his head high.
Padalecki rights himself and is obvious with how he sets his hands on his hips so that his holstered weapon stands out.
Jensen resolutely does not gulp. He may hold his breath for a second or two then turn back to the laptop, though. “At the very least it’s really uninteresting for you, I’m sure.”
The agent rounds the table and smoothly slides into the chair across from Jensen. It’s now too obvious to note how tanned Padalecki is, that he’s removed his standard jacket, and now has the sleeves of his white oxford shirt rolled up to his elbows. That might be the worst part because now Jensen can’t stop watching how the skin, veins, and muscles roll as Padalecki folds his hands over one another quite casually. “Who says I would find it uninteresting?”
Jensen feels bad for the assumption, but still says, “I just don’t see internet coding to be among your interests.”
Padalecki tightly smiles and two dimples appear. Once again, Jensen is cursing this entire situation. He grants himself a second to consider that if he met this guy in a bar, he’d happily smile right back. But no, Agent Padalecki is in Jensen’s life because someone is threatening it. And that is never a pleasant reminder.
On that thought, Jensen asks, “So how are you doing catching my stalker?”
“Mmm, yeah,” Padalecki replies with a tight smile but incredibly bright eyes. “I’m afraid that is beyond your interests.”
“I think it’s incredibly relevant to my interests.” After a calming breath, Jensen sets his arms on the table and tries to be affable. “Someone has threatened me bodily harm and thus you are my living shadow. I like my home. I enjoy my quiet, lonely life. Therefore, you being here is incredibly disruptive. I think I am owed an update on the situation.”
Padalecki shifts in his seat and presses his palms to the glass. “Is there a reason you are so difficult to the situation?”
“I’m pretty difficult in any situation,” Jensen smarts back. He only regrets it a little.
“Would it matter if I told you there were no threats or a dozen more?”
“There are a dozen?” Jensen asks quickly.
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Oh, you!” Jensen exclaims as he jumps out of his chair and swiftly walks to the kitchen. He grabs a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet below and to the right, and pours himself a short glass, all the while ranting. “You’re worse than the White House with this kind of shit. Not at liberty to say if my life is in more danger than it was before? You’re a real treat with that kind of attitude.” He bitterly laughs and downs the double shot with difficulty, having to wipe his mouth and chin.
Padalecki leans on the island between them and awkwardly frowns. It’s the first time he doesn’t seem polished and capable of handling whatever Jensen has to throw at him. “It is for your benefit that you continue on with your life as uninterrupted as possible, no matter what. And as far as being in danger, like it or not, I would harbor a guess that it’s less with me as your shadow.”
Jensen doesn’t want to reply, but he rather dislikes that Padalecki has the upper hand at this moment. He lifts his glass up and belatedly remembers he’d already finished the drink, so he angrily drops it into the sink.
“I know I’m not often welcome, given the reason for my placement. But there has to come a time that you become comfortable with the idea that so long as I’m here, you’re gonna be okay.”
Even though he hates it, he knows the agent is right. He’s not ready to acknowledge it, though, so he stares at his feet and waits until he’s left alone in the kitchen.
He has another few inches of whiskey, but all it does is make him tired and ashamed. And unaware of what he’s doing until he’s taking the stone path from his back door out to the guest house.
It’s his own place, but he still knocks and waits a few seconds before opening the door. No matter what he knows of the government’s capabilities, it’s a surprise to find the front area half taken up by surveillance footage that shows all the lovely parts to Jensen’s home.
He gulps, especially when he realizes three monitors are outdoor cameras - two out front and the other in the backyard, where Jensen had just walked.
Nervously, he jokes, “Surprised you let me in, seeing me coming and all.”
Jared has been standing in front of the couch the entire time, as if he’s on high-alert of Jensen’s presence. He unrolls his shirt sleeves and tugs them down, as if he needs to be professional at eleven at night.
Jensen waves at the screens. “Do you ever actually rest? Or do you just mainline caffeine all night and watch me sleep?”
“I prefer Red Bull, and it’s actually quite relaxing to watch.”
Oh God, Jared watches him sleep. Jensen quickly catches Jared’s twinkling look and he can’t deny that he’s been a total jackass to Jared since the first moment, that Jared is incredibly friendly and charming and impossible to avoid, and at some point tonight, Jensen had stopped considering this man as an agent and his mind is now supplying his first name.
Jensen uncomfortably laughs to cover the long silence as he deliberated all of that. “You’re joking.”
Jared nods and smiles. “I am joking. I have relief at night so I can sleep.”
“That’s good, yeah.” He feels foolish to suddenly worry over the state of the guest house, but he does. “The sheets and pillows okay? It’s not like I knew you’d be here.”
He smiles a bit more. “It’s very nice in here.”
“Are there really a dozen new threats?” Jensen asks quickly, because for the last two hours, he couldn’t seem to get that worry out of his head.
Jared’s body goes rigid, like he’s back to professional mode. Or in heavy-duty professional mode, considering he seems to almost always be on to some degree. “I think it’s best for you not to worry about it.”
Jensen fidgets in place. “That feels like a ‘yes, but we’re not gonna talk about it’.”
“Do you really want to talk about it?”
“No, I suppose not,” he admits easily. It’s far too close to the truth. “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time. It’s just … this is new for me, you know?”
“Well, it’s not for me,” Jared offers easily. “You’re in good hands.”
Jensen suddenly can’t stop staring at Jared’s large, tanned, sculpted hands on his trim waist. He snaps his eyes up to Jared’s and nervously smiles. “That’s … that’s good to know. In tough times. I’m in good hands.”
It’s a near-miss, but Jensen is certain that Jared winks at him. “You are.”
“Good to know,” Jensen repeats and nods, certain he’s said enough. He waves and nods again as he leaves, only stalling for a second when he hears Jared murmur apology accepted.
*
It isn’t as though everything changes.
In the morning, Jensen is feeling groggy from the alcohol and lack of sleep as he contemplated not only their conversation and his potentially inappropriate comments and looks, but also that Jared may be around for a while. It’s bothersome in that Jensen is almost thankful he doesn’t have to say goodbye to the agent just yet.
It is a bit easier, less tense for them to drive to work together, for Jared to follow him into his office and even for a stop in the kitchen.
“Morning,” he mumbles to Danneel when she steps up next to him at the coffee machine.
“Morning, Jensen.” She flashes a smile to Jared in the corner. “Morning, Agent.”
Jensen glances over his shoulder and smiles affably when Jared turns his smile from Danneel to him. But then he frowns when Danneel is critically assessing him.
She crowds his personal space, then he’s grumbling that he nearly fumbles his coffee all over the counter. “What happened?” she whispers.
“What happened with what?”
Danneel purposely looks at Jared and then watches as Jensen allows himself a quick check in Jared’s direction. “I thought you didn’t like fraternizing with the enemy?” she asks with an evil smirk.
Jensen stumbles around responses like I’m not and he’s not the enemy. Instead he just shrugs and goes back to work. It’s not really of her concern. Yet.
Part two