Mountie Duck, part 3/3
ART POST || MASTER || PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3
He's not just Jensen's date, he's his husband.
"Fiancé," Jensen corrects him, rolling his eyes at the Ukrainian foreign minister and jostling Jared with an elbow. He laughs. "Jared, sweetie, you're in such a rush. Remember that your parents had a long engagement, and it would break their hearts if we didn't."
"He's right," Jared says easily, slinging an arm around Jensen's waist.
The foreign minister looks entirely charmed. Jared is entirely charmed as well, now that Jensen's all smiles and touching him constantly. It's enough to drive anyone crazy.
The foreign minister titters and says something to Jensen in Ukrainian and Jensen responds. Of course.
"Your husband is very well-versed in politics," she tells Jared. "He tells me you're more of a quiet philosopher."
Jared is momentarily flattered, because he's going weak in all ways, not just his knees, and his smile is real enough, must be, because then she says, "So modest. I see what you mean."
Jared's starting to realize that Jensen's some sort of savant. It is super hot. Everything about Jensen is super hot and Jared has never, ever considered being married to someone, just does not give a shit about that sort of thing, but the way this minister is looking at them tonight, like they could actually be together, like it would make sense, and what with the way Jensen fits against his side so naturally, well. It's all kind of perfect and Jared should probably watch his champagne intake.
At one point, a man passes and Jensen follows him with his eyes. Jensen slides his hand down Jared's arm to fit in the crook of Jared's elbow and says, "That's him," in an undertone.
The job. Jared feels something cold and angry knotting in his chest but then Jensen steers them away. They are still touching like this, in public. In a room full of rich, probably straight, politicians. It almost feels like that night, six months ago, except this time something's new. Jared has felt like a badass before, and felt like a loser, he's been the jerk and also been the nice guy with everything to lose, but he's rarely seen his life from the outside and thought, 'we are beautiful.'
This has the edge of something Jared can't quite identify, something decidedly dangerous. Maybe it's the martini Jensen's holding, it really does feel like some dangerous spy mission. Jared can't wait to tell Chad, who might be upset, but... But it is important that Jared be here for Jensen.
"You'll have to excuse us," Jensen says to the minister.
He steers them toward the drinks, and a guy almost as tall as Jared comes up to Jensen's side.
"Evening," Jensen says with a nod.
Jared pulls in closer to Jensen and extends a hand. "Hi, I'm Jared, Jensen's fiancé."
The guy smiles like he's knows it's bullshit. "I'm Mike," he says. "Jensen's told me about you."
"Yeah?"
He looks to Jensen, who says, "This is my colleague, Mike."
"Oh!" Jared leans in, careful that no one can hear.
"His handler, really," Mike says. "Although currently estranged for reasons of state."
"Oh, his pimp?"
There is a beat, and then Mike laughs and Jensen joins him, laughing real hard like he can't stop. He rubs the back of his hand over his eyes and Jared just smiles, bemused. He's a funny guy, fucking hilarious when he's on a roll, but this is not really something that he'd expected to be funny. He chalks it up to being just generally awesome and sips his drink.
"No, really," Mike says, once they've calmed down. He meets Jared's eyes. "Thanks for taking care of my boy. It took me a while to get out here without the higher ups taking notice. What with the way things are, it's not a good idea to be seen together that often."
"Like I said," Jared says, at a complete loss. "Fellow high-class prostitutes."
Mike laughs again. "You're a funny one, Padalecki."
Jared shrugs. Jensen's hand finds his, a staged move for anyone watching, but then Jensen curls their fingers together, which isn't. It leaves a warm heat in Jared's chest. He has never been this charmed by anything.
"So, Jen tells me you're on border detail."
"Yeah," Jared shrugs. "It's pretty good work. Benefits, no clients asking you to do things you feel uncomfortable about."
"Man, I hear you."
They talk, using few nouns and a lot of implied quotation marks. It almost sounds like code. Jared sips his drink and realizes he likes Mike. Mike treats Jensen like he's some really witty, really special guy, and it makes Jared feel like Jensen's in good hands.
Jensen says something about the punch in this place, and Jared throws his head back and laughs, and Mike claps an arm around Jensen's shoulder and drags him in like he can't get enough.
That is, until Mike looks at his watch. "Time to get this show on the road. You good for tonight?"
"Yeah," Jensen says. "I have my eye on the man." He squeezes Jared's fingers. "I'll get him alone. Jared's gonna play wingman, but leave the main event to me. Distract anyone who tries to enter the room."
Jealousy hits Jared like a truck.
Mike says, "You're good people, Jared. Your government will reward you for this."
"Yeah, they better," Jared says. He thinks about how his government pretty much has made their feelings clear about Jared pulling jobs like this. He grimaces and finishes his drink. "You going to stick around?"
"Nah," Mike says. "I'm going over tonight. Hey, Jared?"
"Yeah?"
"Get Jen to loosen up a little, would you?" He points at Jared. "That's your side mission."
Jared nods. "Will do." As Mike's turning, Jared remembers. "Hey."
"Yeah?"
"Just a warning, there is this guy who's kind of camped out at the Boot. I think he's FBI."
Jensen turns to him. "You serious?"
"Yeah."
Mike's looking between the two of them. "The Boot?"
Jensen says. "Best lattes in the lower 48."
Jared feels a familiar pang that's both thirst and longing.
"Locals," Mike sighs. He shakes Jared's hand and squeezes Jensen's shoulder. "All right, man. I'll take care of it tonight. Thanks for the heads up."
Mike claps Jared on the shoulder.
"Yeah, no problem."
Jensen is chatting up the man, who has a weak chin and an annoying habit of blinking rapidly. Jared, meanwhile, is on the lookout for fancy hors d'oevres. Just as he's accepted a pastry thing with a little hot dog in it from the garcon, Jensen snags him around the waist and drags him into his side.
Jared goes easy, damn his weak resolve, but doesn't have to be happy about it. He frowns but it is lost on the head of whatever stupid company who is listening to Jensen. The other guests mill around them. Jared tries not to watch, tries not to even listen in, but he does catch a couple provocative lines.
"Mr. Langley," Jensen says. "You're such an influential man, I'd love to hear more about your work."
"Well, I can tell you all about it upstairs if you'd like."
As he passes, Jensen whispers, "Twenty minutes, guard the stairs and then come find me," and then follows the man up the staircase.
When they leave, Jared's got a cold pit in his stomach. A lot can happen in twenty minutes.
Jared is frowning by the banister, as asked, when a woman comes up to him.
"Good evening."
Jared tries to be civil. It's not her fault he's in this situation. "Hello."
"You look like a man shocked by his own luck. Was that your gentleman love that I just saw leaving you alone here by the dessert?"
"My husband-sorry," Jared smiles. "Fiancé. I'm just so excited to finally be able to call him that-"
Jared totally lurks around the staircase, watching the clock and engaging anyone who so much as looks like they might want to go upstairs in conversation. Eighteen minutes later he goes upstairs to find Jensen. Second floor, first door on the left.
He knocks and the door swings open. Jensen doesn't look ruffled in the slightest.
"How was the set-up?" Jared asks.
After looking both ways down the hall, Jensen grabs Jared by the shirtfront and says, "Get in here, close the door."
Jared looks around. They're in an office, a nice office, obviously. He wonders if Jensen and Mr. Langley did it up against the desk or in the armchair in the corner by the crystal pen case. It's an ugly feeling, searching the room for clues. In fact, there is no trace of whomever Jensen met up here and Jensen still looks normal, like no one's had their hands all over him. Jared has no idea how he does that.
"You weren't followed?" Jensen asks.
Jared laughs.
"Okay, good," Jensen says. "Sorry, I know you're not new to this."
Jared looks him over. "You good?"
"Yes," Jensen smiles. "I got everything I needed. You have no idea how much this is going to change my life."
"No, I really-" Jared isn't sure he can talk about this. It's stupid how much it's getting to him, but now that he's helped Jensen out, he wants to get out and go home.
But Jensen puts a hand on his arm, and looks toward the door. Jared stops as well. Jensen's listening for something. "Hold on-"
There's the unmistakable sound of footsteps. Jensen grabs Jared by the shirtfront again and Jared stumbles.
"Quick! Pretend to-"
"What?"
"Jared, kiss me!"
Oh. Jared can do that.
He takes a quick step, backing Jensen up against the wall, and puts a hand on the molding past Jensen's shoulder and leans in. Jensen grabs Jared's face and surges up, pressing his lips against...against his own thumbs.
Kissing Jensen's fingers is arguably better than nothing, but Jared can't help but wonder what his life has come to. Jensen pulls him closer, shoulders hitting the wall as the footsteps get louder.
Jared slides an arm around him, feeling like the hero of some romance novel, with Jensen curled perfectly in his arms. He touches his face and then Jensen moves to kiss Jared's jaw like an apology.
The door clicks open.
"What are you- Oh my! Forgive the intrusion!" It clicks shut again.
Jared can feel the moment Jensen's open-mouthed thing turns to a smirk against his neck. He pulls back and looks down.
"Nice," Jensen says, looking up through his eyelashes. "Perfectly done."
Jared angles his face so that their noses brush. Jensen tips his head back to compensate and raises an eyebrow.
"Jared?"
"Still undercover," Jared says. He raises a hand to cup Jensen's face, but doesn't quite, staring at Jensen's mouth that's parted and bitable. He says, "We could probably-"
Jensen puts a hand over Jared's mouth, jerking away, head knocking against the wood. It's pretty much the opposite of how Jared hoped he'd react.
"Dude," Jensen says.
"I thought you said-"
"Not on the mouth. Remember? You know why that's a bad idea."
Jared feels hot around the neck and embarrassed. "Shit, I'm sorry," He steps back. "You're right, I shouldn't push."
"Jared... I mean, maybe if...."
Jared searches Jensen's face for something, some trace of interest, lust or even longing, with all of its fucked up, fuck-me-over consequences. He just wants to know he's touched Jensen in some way, after all these weeks of Jensen getting under his skin. But there's nothing. Nothing but vague concern, like maybe Jared's a liability.
"No, you're right. Of course you're right." Jared turns away. "I guess I got caught up, is all."
"Jared."
"Are you done here?"
"Yeah, I got what I needed. Let's go."
Jared closes his eyes to collect himself, telling himself this is no big deal, willing his stomach to stop doing whatever it is that it's doing. When he opens his eyes again, Jensen is gone. Jared hadn't even heard the door open.
Jared should follow him, but he goes to the open window, just for a second. He rests a hand on the sill and looks out over the long gardens, blue with snow. He feels like he's in the most remote town in the world, the night dark without city lights, a brush of stars spilled across the sky.
A harsh whisper echoes from somewhere. "Jay!"
Jared looks down. He can make out Jensen's on the ground, by the hedges, a floor down and in the shadows of the mansion.
"What the hell?"
"What are you waiting for?" Jensen whispers. "Get down here!"
"Down there?" Jensen doesn't respond, and he says, "Okay, fine."
He swings a leg out the window and waits. Jensen doesn't tell him not to climb out the window, so Jared continues lowering himself down. He barely misses jumping into a hedge.
Jensen grabs him by the elbow and leads him swiftly around the house, down the driveway, and out to the front gate, from which point a cab picks them up.
"Wow," Jared says, looking back at the mansion and then to the cab which is humming streetside. "That was... lucky."
The cab ride back is mostly silent. Jared just wants to get home and sleep for a year. He's got a bad taste in his mouth, a strange feeling.
When the car pulls up to the curb by his apartment, Jensen says, "Thanks again. You were great out there."
"No problem. I just..." He looks at Jensen. Jensen's just another dude, someone Jared gets with very little effort. He likes him, a lot. More than he should. He says, "I can't do that again."
"Don't worry, there's no next time," Jensen says. "I got what I needed. My future's secure. Thanks to you, really."
All Jared wants to do is invite him up. Instead, he realizes, he has to let him go.
"Well."
"If you wanted to... I mean, you have job, a life here, but." Jensen stops.
"Don't worry about it," Jared says. "It's fine, you know?"
"Well," Jensen says. "Have a good one."
"Yeah, you too."
He waits for a second, not quite looking at Jensen looking down at his hands, before he walks away.
It's only eleven. Jared goes up to his apartment, locks the door behind him, and tosses the keys onto the counter, but then freezes when he sees a strange light in the living room.
He steps into the room, and then flips on the kitchen lights.
It's Chad on the couch, tufty hair sticking out from the top of the blanket. He's got his laptop open under there.
"Sorry, I'll just-"
"Jay!"
Jared keeps his eyes averted, out of respect. "Yeah?"
"I have something to tell you. It's fucking hilarious."
Jared turns. "What's hilarious?"
Chad defines hilarious differently than Jared. This is proven when Chad rolls out of the blankets, and puts the laptop on the coffee table. He pushes the screen back and gestures for Jared to read.
It's a newspaper article. Chad reads, "Wealthy oil tycoon's son meets family tragedy."
"You're reading the news?" Jared asks, settling next to him in the pile of blankets.
"Just read the damn article."
Jared reads hunched over, unsure of where Chad is going with this, but game for any kind of distraction after the night he's had.
After the first two paragraphs, his mouth has gone dry, and his hand shakes as he clicks the down arrow. And it's not just this article- there are a bunch of tabs open. He clicks through them to find that they all mention Jensen. Jensen Ackles, the heir to Moncton Oil went missing after a family scandal which resulted in the loss of his family's company and prestige.
"Wait, I know about this," says Jared.
"What?"
"A bunch of people I know were laid off during that scandal. Everyone heard about it. And... and I used to know that kid. Jensen, I mean. I met him once. At some party my parents took me to."
"Oh yeah, your rich kid past."
"Yeah. He was my first kiss. Hug guy."
Chad stares at him. "You're fucking with me."
"No." Jared laughs, feeling a sort of hollow disbelief. "And it was in a tree."
He barely remembers that night, just some vague memory of a kid whose shirt looked so nice that Jared had to wrestle him into the dirt by some hedges. And after tag, they'd climbed a tree in the dark. When Jared pulled himself up second, they'd thrown some twigs at a couple people passing by and the conversation stretched with anticipation until Jared had carefully tipped forward from one branch to the next, and kissed Jensen against the trunk.
Jared skims the article on the screen, thinking back, heart hammering in his chest. Jensen disappeared immediately after the scandal, and no one's seen or heard from him since.
"A year," he says, feeling sick. "He was driven into prostitution. He didn't want this life. And I was just part of it. Jesus."
Chad leaves and returns with a beer. Jared takes it and just holds it. He needs to think.
Eventually he puts his head in his hands. "What is going on?"
He's mainly addressing the tabletop, but then Chad says, "Okay, you shouldn't drink right now," and nudges a joint toward him.
"Life's a trip," he says, sagely, and like it's an axiom he's spent years gathering life experience and anecdotal evidence to arrive at this conclusion.
Jared starts, "I don't-"
"It's the middle of the night and you're freaked. Call your boy later. Let's play video games and let it sit."
Jared nods. "Thanks, Chad."
"It's chill."
Jared fishes out the controllers from the crack in the couch cushions. Chad uses tongs left on the coffee table from the barbecue to lean as far as he can without his ass actually leaving the couch. Just as he manages to push the PS3 power button, Jared sits up straight.
"Holy- Chad!"
"That's my name, don't w-"
Jared pulls his hands through his hair in distress. "No, I mean- He's going to make a run for it!"
"Huh?"
"Tonight! Right now! That's why he said this was his last job when he dropped me off."
"He really said that?"
"I need to get to the station."
Jared divests himself of his suit, right there in the living room, and squeezes into his tight shorts and buckled jacket. He'd left the uniform crumpled in an armchair yesterday like it was nothing, but now it is the key to everything, his saving grace.
He smooths a long sock over each foot and then steps into black boots. He tightens the laces and knots twin shoelace bows.
"He's leaving?" Chad asks, starting to panic. "Take my scooter!"
"You're a good friend," Jared tells him wildly, like maybe he'll never see him again. "The best."
"What the fuck are you waiting for!"
Jared may have only remedial horse-riding talents, but he's fucking awesome at riding a scooter. Unfortunately, it sputters and slows half a block from the border checkpoint.
"No," Jared says.
The street is dark and lonely and the gas gauge reads empty.
"All right," he says under his breath. "Okay. Sorry about this," he tells the scooter as he leaves it parked against someone's mailbox. He'll text Chad the address of where he ditched it later.
He takes off at a jog, boots hitting the pavement. He can run five miles in his sleep, even though it's started to snow; he's got this.
He sprints into the station. It's empty except for Aldis leaning against his booth, staring into space.
"Jensen!"
His voice echoes obscenely. Aldis starts.
"Was Jensen here?"
"Yeah, he crossed ten minutes ago."
"Dammit!" Jared turns toward the line dotted across the floor in worn red paint, where Jensen had walked out the exit, into the United States, where student-loan-avoidant, ex-prostitutes daren't tread. Jared slows as he closes in on it, gets toes-to-the-line stalled, staring stupidly into the snow that's blowing past.
"You need to talk to him or something? Padalecki?" Aldis says. "You okay, man?"
For the first time, Jared feels cowardly, rather than safe on the other side. But it's not like he can allow Jensen to just walk away, into this mini-blizzard and out of Jared's life for good. That's not how this story is going to go, not if Jared can help it. Even if he's thousands of miles and a lifetime away, Jared's still from Texas, dammit.
He lets out some sort of distraught noise, that could retrospectively be considered a battle cry, the sound of a man who has his mind made up.
"Mountie Padalecki!"
He doesn't slow his sprint toward the stable door. "Sorry!" he yells behind him. "Important!"
Once inside, he races down the dirt aisle until he reaches Apple's stall, where he vaults over the railing. She starts but he reaches out and pats her nose.
"Hey, darlin'. We've got an urgent situation here."
It is three minutes before he's got her saddled up. He should have ridden one of the horses they had at the ready, like Cupcake or Dash, but he needs his girl with him on this.
He opens the gate and walks her out, and when he gets to the exit, Aldis is waiting for him, stable doors opened.
"You sap," Jared says, getting a foot in the stirrup.
"Good luck," Aldis says, in the tone of one who fully believes a race to win one's dreams is possible.
Heartened, Jared rides out into the freezing world, full tilt, Apple kicking up cold dust and straw behind them and then clickety clacking out onto the asphalt, leaving dark hoof prints in the snowy road. He kicks his heels and Apple gallops out. The wind is blowing from behind, and snowflakes as big as quarters are swirling down. The only sound is Jared's own harsh breathing and the clopping of horse hooves.
It feels like a quiet end of the world, Jared losing more and more resolve as he rides down the road and doesn't see Jensen anywhere. He's all adrenaline, heart pounding. He doubles back and rides the other way. It suddenly occurs to him for real that he might never see Jensen again.
"C'mon," Jared mutters. "Jensen, where the hell are you?"
He sees him, then. A dark shape trudging down the road, through inches of snow in a thin jacket and no gloves.
"Jensen!" Jared spurs Apple on with a kick to her sides.
Jensen walks faster. His shoulders are rounded against the wind and Jared catches up to him easily. He pulls Apple to a walk next to him and says, "Get up here."
Jensen says, "Go away, Jared." It's loud, clear, and Jensen doesn't look at him, just keeps walking.
"No. Jensen, give me your arm."
"I'm not getting on your horse. I have to go."
"Jensen, dammit! You can't leave like this."
"Jared," Jensen says. "It's not just me this affects. It's my family. I have to-"
"You have to what? Is someone threatening you?"
"You said you didn't want to know. It's better if you don't. I have to go. Just let me, Jared. I have to."
"Why?"
Jared jerks back on the reins and dismounts. He's shaking with cold, bare legged and hat blown off somewhere. He jogs up to Jensen and grabs him by the shoulder. Jensen shakes him off, but Jared grabs him again and holds on.
Jensen whirls, outraged. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Why do you have to be your usual damn self?" Jared yells. He's probably scaring Apple and that makes him even angrier. "Why can't you ever listen to me? Why can't you see that-"
"This is me, okay?" Jensen's voice is hoarse. He steps in, angry puffs marking every breath. "And you like me, that's fine. But I have things I need to do. I know you've put the job behind you, but this is my life, Jared. It's my whole life." He doesn't look angry anymore, just sorry, cheeks pink with cold in the light from the streetlamps and sorry like he's leaving for real, mind made up. He sounds like he's pleading when he says, "I can't be attached like that, you know?"
Jared catches Jensen's hand before Jensen moves away. He turns it to kiss the palm and then curls their cold fingers together like Jensen had earlier.
"I can't stop thinking about you," he tells him. "Please don't leave."
He pushes their foreheads together, and Jensen goes with it.
"Why'd you have to choose now, huh?" he asks. "After all this, in the middle of the blizzard and when I'm pissed at you."
"You did this to me," Jared says.
Jensen's hands come up to hold his face, tenderly. "You were the one moaning like a fucking porn star on my dick," he says. "How was I supposed to take that?"
Jared closes his eyes, feeling Jensen brush snowflakes off his cheek with his thumbs. "Just come back to the border. Just come to the station and we'll talk about all of it." Jensen thumbs his bottom lip and Jared scrapes his teeth over it. "Please, Jensen. I'm not even supposed to be here."
"I'm sorry I'm messing up your job," Jensen says.
"No, I mean. Here," Jared says. He pulls away, and gestures to the snowscape, visible only under the streetlamps, bushes like lumps of covered coal and darkness beyond.
Jensen looks around, like maybe he can spot Jared's meaning in the snow. Jared's starting to feel calm now that he's got Jensen pulled against him, out here with no one else around except Apple who is snorting and rooting around for leaves. He doesn't know where to go from here.
"Just," he says. "Just let me-"
He feels the give, the way Jensen sways into him on reflex and gasps against his mouth, how his lips give against Jared's and it's the sweetest thing.
Then, Jensen jerks back. "Jared, what-"
But Jared gets his hand on his jaw and kisses him again. Jensen makes a surprised noise and Jared is entirely charmed that Jensen, who'd gladly accepted a blow job against cases of beer in the back of the Bar, is so surprised by something this simple.
"Don't worry, I've kissed you before," Jared says, and presses in further. "When we were kids-" he says. "I didn't know it was you."
He's still cradling Jensen's face, dizzy with it. Jensen gently breaks away, breathing hard. "Jared-"
Jared smiles. He has a mind to wind his hands inside Jensen's jacket and kiss him again, but then there is a loud shouting, and his first impulse is to protect Jensen from the blur of motion he sees out of the corner of his eye.
He goes down hard.
"Jared!"
Jared has someone's knee pressed between his shoulder blades. His elbows ache from where he was tackled onto them and his cheek roughs up where it's being pushed over the frozen asphalt. He can't breathe.
After two seconds of getting his bearings, he manages to flip and gets a knee in his attacker's stomach, knocking him away for long enough to make out his face.
He takes in a couple deep breaths, looking down, his jacket half gaping where it was ripped off. "Welling."
Welling looks away and slowly gets to his knees, raising his hands in front of him. Jared wonders why for a second, why tackle a man just to get off of him? But then he looks past Welling's shoulder to see Jensen. Jensen who has a gun trained on them.
"Here's what's going to happen," Jensen says, tone conversational. "You get your fucking hands off him and go take a seat on that bench." He waves his gun to a snow-covered frozen thing ten yards away. "Then I escort the good Mountie here over the border."
"If I-"
"Or I'll shoot you in the face. Capiche?"
I'm fake dating a guy who says capiche unironically, Jared thinks to himself, before Jensen says his name, sharp.
"Huh?" Jared suddenly notices that his teeth are chattering. He's soaked through and he can feel his skin going purple, and he can't take his eyes off the gun.
"Jared. Get up."
"You have a-"
"Yeah," Jensen says. "Where do you keep your piece, by the way?"
Jared stares at him.
Jensen looks him over, gun still trained on Tom. "Your uniform really doesn't hide much of anything, I've always wondered where you keep it."
Jared stands and brushes himself off, not answering. He smiles, tight lipped, at Jensen and nods to Welling, who looks blank-faced, on his ass in the snow like maybe this happens all the time, or, Jared shudders thinking, like he thinks there's no hope for him now, so he's letting go.
The horse nudges her nose against Jared's shoulder. He grabs her reins and swings up into the saddle.
Jensen turns. "Jared?"
Jared doesn't respond. He trots away and when he reaches the border check entrance, he turns to see Jensen walking backward with his gun still raised and pointed at Welling's small, sad form in the dark distance.
Jared crosses back into Canada.
He goes and sits in a waiting chair.
"Mountie Padalecki?"
"Jared?"
He hears the others come to stand around him, but he doesn't look up, just puts his head in his hands, twining fingers through his hair and tugging, trying to breathe despite the cold and the panic in his chest, the blackness around the edges of his vision. He is seriously freaking out, he notes, but the fact is foreign and distant as the country he was born in.
"Honey, you need to tell us what's wrong," Mountie in Chief Ferris asks. "Did you find Jensen?"
Alona asks, "Where's Apple?"
His horse! Jared half-stands, but before he can even worry, there is a clopping of hooves, and Jensen is leading Apple inside from where Jared had just jumped off at the door and left her.
Jensen asks, "Forget something?"
His smile falters when Jared frowns and sits back down.
"Jared...."
"He carries a gun," Jared says to the room at large. He shuts his eyes again. He isn't a Mountie, he doesn't know how to do any of this. For the first time since he crossed the border that night six months ago, homesickness rolls up in him and threatens to overwhelm everything. "Jesus."
Jensen looks taken aback, and for a second Jared believes he's going to deny it. Instead he says, "It's under control. Now come on, we need to take you to the hospital."
"I mean, who carries a gun?" Jared laughs. "What are you, some secret agent or something?"
Aldis says, "Yeah, that is pretty weird."
Jensen doesn't deny anything, instead just shoves his gun into the back of his pants and says, "I thought you knew. But that's beside the point."
He reaches out a hand, but Jared flinches. Jensen takes a step back. He puts his hands up, and says, spelling it out, "We have to go."
Jared isn't feeling so hot. For one, his mouth is super dry. He's remembering the time in high school his teacher asked him to stay after and asked him if he had ever considered being a rocket scientist. He remembers teaching his sister how to rollerblade, and he remembers barfing after drinking a whole gallon of milk on a dare, and he remembers being fifteen and wanting to fall in love with a prince and go on adventures together. It's almost like his life is flashing before his eyes.
He needs to come clean. He knows it now, knows this whole thing couldn't last. But first thing's first.
"Mountie Ferris, I'm actually American," Jared says.
"We all knew that, baby," Ferris says.
"Huh?"
"Impersonating law enforcement is a crime," Ferris tells him. "But we at Larkspur believe in second chances."
"I...Chad and I thought you bought it."
"You're a nice kid, Jared, and real smart in most cases. But you were wasted and claiming to be Canadian. You two were obviously on the run from something. For the first five seconds we thought maybe you were both criminals, but then Aldis had his money on two gay men, on the run, seeking acceptance - we know how hard it is to be gay in America."
"We can't have just anyone walking over the border, dressed like a stripper, Americanized idea of a Mountie, claiming to be law enforcement," Aldis says.
"One does not simply walk into Canada," Adrianne tells him.
"Especially with a fake arrest under their belt. You think we're that forgiving? No, we're gonna make you do some community service time, working for the province."
"Better than America I guess, where being a hooker is apparently a federal offense." Jared says it without thinking, and there is a long silence, during which he really realizes what he's admitted to. Well, it feels like a small relief to say it aloud. "I used to be a high-class prostitute," he tells them. "And because of me, there's a man who has been staking out our station. It's my fault. I put you all in danger. Although I still don't get that. It doesn't add up, you know? How badly they want to bring me back to the country. You'd think they'd just want me to stay gone."
"We've known about Welling," Ferris tells him. "He's not after you. Intel tells us he's watching for a rogue CIA agent."
Jensen puts a hand on her arm. "This is all very interesting, but Jared's very sick and we need to go."
"Your two weeks are up," Alona tells him.
"Not now," he says.
"I'm so sorry," Jared says. "So sorry, for everything."
He coughs. The panic seems to be setting in even further, the edges of his vision are flickering in a way that is somewhat alarming.
There's a hand under one of his arms, and it's Jensen. "I'm taking you to the hospital."
"I don't have health insurance," Jared says. He rubs his hands together while Jensen opens the door of his truck. How are they suddenly in the parking lot? Jared has no idea how they got there. Does Jensen have a car?
Jared thinks deliriously about how much they do not know about one another. He was foolish to think this could work.
"I don't know if you need that here," Jensen says. "Isn't it universal?"
"I don't know," Jared says.
He manages to strap in and then collapses back in the seat. His limbs feel separate from his body.
He notices Jensen's hands are shaking as they reach under the steering wheel and fiddle around. There is a spark and the engine roars. Jensen is hot wiring the car. This seems strange, out of character, but Jared is really tired.
"Stupid," Jensen says.
"Yeah? Right back at you." His teeth are chattering, and his head feels swimmy.
"I'm talking about myself," Jensen says. "Thinking you wouldn't follow me out into the snow when you're wearing a uniform that's way too tight and made of really thin material, too. And I've been trained for cold weather, while you-"
"I would have if I'd been a real Mountie," Jared says.
"And then you kissed me." Jared's head knocks against the window as Jensen screeches out of the parking lot and onto the dark, snowy road. "Jared, you stupid-"
Jared says, "I had to-"
"I know," Jensen says. And then, right before Jared passes out. "I wanted you to."
Jared wakes up in a hospital bed. The sheets are stiff with bleach and over-laundering, the window dark, and a doctor in a white coat is reading over a chart.
He looks down at Jared, and Jared blinks slowly, his eyes gummy.
"Mr. Padalecki, welcome back. I'm Doctor Collins. You're pregnant."
"What!" Jared tries to say, but his eyes just roll back in his head before the room rights itself again.
"Just kidding," Doctor Collins tells him. "But you did suffer exposure and hypothermic shock. I heard you went into a blizzard, partially clad."
"Nghh," Jared says. He looks around the room, and Jensen is seated in a corner, looking stormy. Jared clears his throat, but his voice still comes out hoarse. "Am I dying?"
"No, no. But it was a near thing. I know you Mountie types think you're indestructible, but do me a favor. I don’t want to see you in here again. Next time, wear a warm jacket, or better yet, stay indoors. And always wear a hat. Just because you've got that hair, doesn’t mean you're protected."
Jared tries to say, "Will do, doc."
"Silly, I'm not a doctor."
Jared falls back asleep before he's able to speak with Jensen, and when he wakes up, Jensen is gone.
Chad is there, though. Jared sits up with effort, groaning as all of his limbs protest, and his head pounds.
Chad looks up from where he's playing with the buttons on Jared's remote control bed. "Rough deal, man."
"Yeah."
"So," Chad says. "It turns out Louis wasn't a fan of my show."
"I'm sorry."
"No," Chad says. He smiles. "It's actually great. That just means he isn't after me for my fame. He's after me for my ass! Fucking awesome!"
Jared smiles. "That's great, Chad."
A nurses enters then. "Mr. Murray! Don't wake him."
Chad stands to go. "I'll be back in the morning, okay? You good here?"
"Yeah," he says. "Thanks, man. I really-"
He points at Jared in warning. "Don't go soft on me, Padalecki."
"Okay," Jared says. "Okay."
The door creaks open at 1AM. Jared wonders if he's at home, if his dogs are pushing in, then remembers that he's in his apartment in Canada. But neither are true. The air smells sterile, he's more comfortable than he can ever remember being, which is just dumb considering he's in a hospital.
Jared feels like he’s being cuddled into a state of half-consciousness. The reason becomes clear when the mattress sinks strangely. Jared’s eyes adjust and he sees Jensen sitting up, reaching one socked foot to the floor. It seems like a dream, except for the killer headache, pain sharp and real in his forehead, and the aches that spread throughout his body.
"I'm his... uh... his brother," Jared hears him tell the nurse.
"You don't have to lie," she says in a quiet voice. "It's legal here. Don't talk so loudly, you'll disturb him."
"What?"
"I said," she repeats, like Jensen's slowed with hypothermia himself. "He should get some sleep. I'll check on you two in the morning."
"Oh-kay."
Jensen settles back onto an elbow as the door shuts. There's a beat of silence, then he says, "Hey."
Jared struggles from sleep, blinking a little in the dark. "Hey. Thanks."
"No problem. Doesn't matter." Jensen shifts so that Jared fits against him more comfortably, although whether it's deliberate or not, Jared couldn't say. "Although this is gonna be really expensive if you don't die."
He coughs, stretches his stiff arms and legs and then repositions, rolling into Jensen. "I think healthcare is free here," he whispers into Jensen's neck, and hopes it's soothing.
"Yeah."
"Jensen."
"Hm?"
"I hope you didn't bring guns in here."
"Don't worry, they're under a jacket."
"Thanks."
"No problem."
It's a long moment lying in the half-light and glow of monitors. Even though it's been silent and close, far too intimate for two strangers, Jared has almost forgotten that Jensen is awake. He's in some sort of trance, eyes closing, lulled into half-sleep and judging his breaths against Jensen's. He gives a start when a hand touches his ear, briefly. Then, Jensen's brushing his hair back. Jared takes a deep breath through his nose, the kind that balloons your entire chest, then lets it out harshly while Jensen rubs knuckles down his jaw. Jared keeps his eyes closed, feeling every brush of skin to stubble, Jensen thumbing Jared's bottom lip.
When Jared wakes up again, the room is darker than dark. It takes a full minute to get his bearings. He feels safe and warm, headache a mere throb, thank god, but he's so warm he's sweating, all pushed up against Jensen. He blinks in the dark, looking past Jensen's shoulder to where a red light is blinking in time with quiet beeps and machine hums. Jared is alive and Jensen has him in a vice grip. It is 3AM.
3AM. Jared reflects on his life. Earlier that night, he had made a grand gesture, the type of thing that's supposed to be honorable and romantic. But now Jared knows the angst of chasing down your fake-boyfriend, only to be tackled after your first kiss and then said dude reveals himself to be a spy. Followed by hypothermia.
Jared experiences his first real wave of mortification. It sinks into his chest and his head twinges sharply again. He actually physically closes his eyes, like it might help, and he buries his face into Jensen's neck, willing himself not to think of it now and curling his hands against Jensen's chest more comfortably.
Jensen stirs against him and then stills. Jared doesn't want to talk about anything right now, not like this, him shamelessly leeching comfort while he's asleep and stuck in a hospital room. He makes to roll away - Jensen probably hadn't meant for full-on cuddling when he climbed into bed, probably just wanted to sleep and Jared had glommed on - but the second he moves, Jensen tightens his arm around him.
Jared lets out a breath, and Jensen shifts against him. Jared doesn't say a thing. He flattens his hand against Jensen's chest and Jensen takes the next breath like they're taking turns. And on his exhale, Jared rolls their hips together, slowly. Jensen makes a closed mouth noise, and slides his hand down Jared's back in a smooth press that warms Jared down to his toes.
"Fuck," Jared says, scooting in. Jensen scratches blunt nails up his spine, rumpling his shirt the smallest bit. Jared can feel his heartbeat pulsing through his entire body. He gets Jensen's knee up over his side and rubs his nose against Jensen's neck.
"Why'd you leave?" he asks. "Why wouldn't you stop?"
"I needed a fax machine, and the Boot is open all night," Jensen whispers. "You know, it makes sense now, why you'd kiss me."
"Huh?" The material of his hospital pants are thin as nothing as his dick nudges against Jensen's ass.
Jensen makes a quiet, dark noise, and says, "I thought you knew that all agents wear poisonous chapstick. Thought you were one of us, didn't understand why you kept pushing it, thought you were a kid with a deathwish. And then you kissed me. I was caught off guard." He puts his arms around Jared. "Goddammit, Jared, you could have died."
"Why didn't I, then?"
"I slipped you the antidote when I was driving you here."
"Fuck," Jared says again, and rolls Jensen onto his back, head aching to remind him he's alive. He's got heat thrumming under his skin as he pushes his fingers up Jensen's stomach, up under his shirt. "And now...?"
"Now we're good."
Jensen juts his hips up at that, and Jared gets an arm sunk next to Jensen's head on the pillow and kisses him, pushing Jensen's knee aside to fall between his legs.
Jared sinks forward just as Jensen rises up to meet him, going up on elbows.
"Come here," Jensen says, and puts his hands to Jared's sides, then rubs up his back to pull him down by the wings of his shoulders.
It's so dark. Jared finds Jensen's mouth again with butterfly kisses over his cheeks.
"Jared," Jensen says, almost reproving, and shifts under him.
"Yeah, baby?"
"I'm an international spy. "
None of that means anything to Jared right now. He's got Jensen under him, so he does what he's wanted to- he works at coaxing Jensen's mouth open with slow, even-pressured kisses.
"I've been trying to impress you by jumping out windows," Jensen tells him.
Jared says, "That's the best ever," and means it.
Jared wakes up to Adrianne talking with Alona. He has yet to open his eyes but the room feels bright.
"These are so pretty!" Adrianne's saying. "You can put them on the table."
"Morning, Jensen," Alona says, although it still sounds shady.
Jensen just grunts.
"You look tired," Adrianne says. "We can stay if you need to get home."
"Jensen does look tired, doesn't he? You'd think he was the one who'd had a hypothermic attack."
"I see what you're implying," Jensen says. "But this is only a brief moment of weakness."
"This information could be worth at least five grand," Alona says. "But with a little incentive...."
"Jared! My man!" Aldis bangs into the room.
Jared opens his eyes and shifts to sit up.
Adrianne runs up to cuddle him. "You're awake!"
Jared gathers the sheets around him, smiling at everyone. "'Sup."
"Hypothermia!" Aldis says, and gives him a half hug. "This is what happens when you don't wear a hat."
"It blew off in the storm!"
"You need to go to basic training. Apparently that never happened, and it's something we've got to fix."
Jared groans. "I'm going to be a rookie forever, aren't I?"
He looks over to the table in the corner, and Jensen catches his eye, for just a second and then it's gone, but Jared feels dreamy with it.
He leans back against the pillows and watches Jensen and Alona make veiled insults while Aldis eats the Jello on the table and Adrianne talks with Alona about martial arts. It's a cute picture. He remembers how last night he'd kissed Jensen to sleep, soft and forever. His neck heats up at the memory how Jensen's skin felt under his hands. Looking over at Jensen now, he wants to touch him again.
He lets this longing fill him, idly and completely, as he grabs the coffee on the sidetable. He thinks that what he has, here in this small town of Larkspur, located in Manitoba in the fine country of Canada, is pretty sweet.
He lifts the cup to his lips to take a sip.
Jensen says, "Jared, don-"
Jared wakes up hours later, judging by the clock, to a tugging in the skin of his forearm. He blinks his eyes five times, ten, trying to open them for real, but he feels sluggish.
He tries to ask what happened, but his mouth is so dry it comes out garbled.
"Hey, easy." Jensen's voice is gruff but warm. "The first rule you should learn if you're going to hang out with secret agents: never drink anything."
"Who?" Jared croaks.
"Alona." Of course. "It wasn't meant for you."
Jared rubs his hand over his eyes, tries to clear his head and collect his bearings. Jensen frowns.
"They just removed your IV. You're free to go whenever you want. No permanent damage."
Jared frowns back.
"...Jared."
He waves off Jensen's hands. "Just...."
He gets out of bed, feeling somewhat wobbly on his feet but fine. He goes to the bathroom and then grabs his clothes where they've been folded on the chair and pulls them on, one leg and then the other. Zip up the back, adjust his sleeves. Only once he's gotten his tiny ascot knotted at his neck, does he smooth his hands down his shorts and turn back to Jensen.
"We can talk about it later," he says. Jensen has been watching this whole time, face unreadable. Jared says, "Let's get out of here."
"Do you want me to-"
"No," Jared cuts him off. "I can get it from here."
The ride to Jared's apartment is quiet, the pine trees zipping by, a crisp afternoon with the sky high and grey above them and the road dark with more snow. They park and Jared doesn't fall out the door of the truck, but when he stumbles, Jensen is there, catching him against his chest. Jared wants to fall asleep right there, snow building up against his feet, Jensen a warm, solid presence beside him.
"Let's get you inside," Jensen says.
Jared manages to fish his keys out of his pocket by himself, thank you very much. He frowns at Jensen, who meets his frown, looking stern.
"Don't tell Chad," Jared says.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
When they step inside, Jared is exhausted, but he feels quiet relief at being back in his apartment. Beer in the fridge, game controllers in the cushions. It's almost like things are finally settling into place in life. Like the secret Jensen has had this whole time is out, like Jared's secret is out too, and now they can just kick back.
There's no question of whether Jensen's going to stay. He sits on the couch and drags Jared onto it next to him, their legs pressed together.
"Hey," he says.
Jared smiles at him. This is Jensen. "Hey. You going to tell me your secrets, double oh seven?"
Jensen barely pauses, expression cool like he'd already decided to tell Jared, maybe last night or maybe before that. "Yeah, I'll tell you. You're not going to like it."
Jared wants to say something cheesy like 'I like everything about you' but it's not true, he knows it's not. He's still bleary from being knocked out and staying up all night. He's not in his right mind, he knows that. Tomorrow he's going to have to face the facts, that Jensen's got a lot of baggage, probably kills people and litters their body parts in bodies of water. He's seen movies and read a hundred spy books, about romance and murder and espionage.
He doesn't say anything, just shows Jensen that he's ready to listen, putting his feet up on the coffee table and waves Jensen to continue.
Jensen clears his throat. Jared thinks it must be terrible, knowing from experience that telling anyone something honest about you can be the hardest, most insurmountable effort.
Jensen finally says, "I come from a line of rich oil tycoons."
Jared laughs. "Put it modestly."
Jensen smiles, but it's sad, looks bad on him.
"My parents were happy," he says. "My dad was a diplomat and my mom was heir to the Moncton fortune. Together, they had political clout and influence in the community. My mom was deeply invested in social programs in the area, started a few parks and community gardens, helped run the homeless shelter and started rehabilitation programs."
Jared puts a hand on his knee. "She sounds like a great woman."
"I joined the CIA. You know."
Jared doesn't really know, but Jensen seems so wrapped up in remembering so he stays quiet. He's sure Jensen will answer when he asks, later, maybe has been answering honestly this whole time.
Jensen continues, "I did that. My parents were proud of me, and my sister was at school and doing a degree in IR, on the road to becoming a diplomat herself. We were perfect."
Jared's getting an ominous feeling about this whole thing. It's leading up to disaster, he can tell, because why else would Jensen be this sad, this far from home.
"And then?"
"Then. God, Jared. Then it all went to hell. My father had been in talks with Langley, and got wrapped up in something shady. But I know my dad, he wouldn't do anything like that. He's an honest man. He was caught out on a technicality, something he didn’t know about until it was too late. He's in jail now, and my mom and sister are fine, just, they had to sell the house and lost the company. And so I went rogue."
It's all becoming clear. "So Alona-"
"Also an agent."
"She's supposed to kill you." Jared says it with a certainty that suddenly hits him. "Jensen, are you going to die?"
Jensen laughs. "Yeah, right, like she'd actually do it. Alona and I went to school together. It's Welling we should be worried about, but Mike's on it, thanks to your tip."
"My-"
"Don't worry about it."
"What are you going to do about your family?"
"It's out of my hands now. I sent the files to my contacts. I swore that I would right the wrongs done to my family, and now I have." Jensen pauses. "Hey, you don't look so good."
It's true, Jared doesn't feel well. He is tired from the hospital and the two poisonings of his person and the possible hypothermia.
"How about I get you something. Soup?"
Jared snorts. "You think this is the kind of place that serves soup? Me and Chad keep meat in the freezer, and eggs and beer go in the fridge."
"I noticed," Jensen says. "I'll go grab you something. We'll talk more about this after I get back."
"Yeah?"
Jensen looks at him all worried. "Dude. You look like you're about to cry."
"I'm so hungry," Jared tells him. "I don't think I've ever been so happy about someone offering to get me food before in my life."
Jensen shoves him away and stands. "Oh my god, all right, yes, I'll be right back."
He doesn't move though. He stands there at Jared's knees in Jared's living room, looking down at him. Jared's hands itch to grab him by the waist, kiss his palm, anything within reach, but Jensen stands there a beat longer, until Jared laughs and Jensen reaches out and pats him on the shoulder like they didn't spend all last night making out.
"I'll be right back," Jensen says again, with this look in his eye, like, a secret for just the two of them. Jensen smiles, quick, and then leaves without looking back.
Jared's nudging mail around on the table with a finger, standing idly and looking around their apartment, he and Chad's, his best friend and ex-boss, in fucking Canada. Jared's got bills here and his Mountie uniform is draped over a chair. It's a life. Jared's feeling tentatively good, letting happiness be an option. Chad's totally got it right. This is one of those things people say happens without you noticing: you blink and then you're there.
He's grabbing a beer from the fridge when there's a loud sound. Something like an explosion only not quite. A second later, Chad bursts in.
Jared turns. "Hey. Everything okay?"
"Jared."
Chad's out of breath. Jared smiles at him, feeling fond. It's probably a side effect of whatever antidote he's taken twice in 24 hours: heart aching happiness. Tonight he's going to eat soup with this guy he likes and his best friend. They all have a load of ridiculous issues, like whether or not they're all going to remain employed and whether they're going to get banished from two countries, but they'll deal with all that tomorrow.
Chad is finally catching his breath. He waves away the beer that Jared's holding out for him and gasps, "We have to go! No time to explain!"
Jared blinks. "Wait, what?"
"We have to leave!"
"The apartment? Man, I just got out of the hospital, I'm not gonna go drinking now."
Chad frowns. "Canada! We have to leave Canada."
Jared really blinks this time. "But…." He pulls out a chair and collapses slowly into it. Chad waves his hands around a little to express the necessity and Jared says, "But I have things to do. Like, eat soup and bring the recycling in."
Chad says, "It doesn't matter! We have to fucking go!"
It's like déjà vu; Jared has been here before, that night in their apartment in the states, six months and a lifetime ago. But this time, he has something he is going to lose, someone he can't leave.
"Chad, if you're messing with me...."
"Jared," he says. "I'm sorry but-" He looks like he understands. His puts his hand on Jared's shoulder and lets it sink in, the fact of the matter. "We gotta go. Put on your American clothes and let's go, man."
"But, Jensen-"
"You think I don't have someone to lose in all this?"
"What-"
"I don't even have the kid's number!"
"Louis? He's given you his number like fifty times!"
"I always know where he is! Why would I need to call him? This is a life of imprisonment we're talking about, Jared. We need to leave."
"Okay," Jared says, kind of freaking out. He feels a certain emotion he isn't going to name knot up his stomach. "Okay, just let me-"
He takes out his phone and clicks Jensen, even though he apparently never answers it, probably doesn't even have his phone on half the time.
As it rings, Jared walks out onto the balcony. It's still snowing and the air is frozen and the streets are still in the distance. The phone rings forever and Jared breathes in time. He crosses his arms on the balcony and rests his forehead in the crook of an elbow, eyes squinted closed like he's making a wish.
"Come on," he says. "You fucking idiot. C'mon, answer the phone. Of all the times. Just, answer it."
The call goes to voicemail, the automated message voice saying, "This is the mail box of phone number...."
"Please," Jared says again. "Please just...."
There's a beep and Jared is suddenly leaving a message, talking to Jensen for what could be the last time.
"Hey man-" his voice breaks on it. "Hey I just...look, something came up. And I gotta-"
He takes in a breath, then lets it out slow. What is even happening in his life? He feels like he can't catch up. He wants to sleep and wake up to things being okay for once.
"Just, I wish things had been different. There's something there, man. I'm not sure where I'm headed, but all I know is it's you, you know. It'll always be you, which is totally crazy because we haven't known each other for long, but it's kind of been my whole life, and just-"
"This is one of those times, isn't it?"
Jared turns so fast he nearly slips in the snow.
Jensen's standing in the open door. He rolls his eyes. "You so eager to get into bed with me again you're going for hypothermia? Because it may have worked once, but that was a different circumstance. I date smart guys, not-"
Jared steps forward and slides a hand into the warmth of Jensen's jacket, and frames his jaw with the other and kisses him slow and deliberate. Jensen's hands span Jared's back, and Jared steps in closer, fitting them together. Jensen makes a noise and kisses Jared back against the railing.
Jared pulls back.
"Well," Jensen says. "If this is because I brought you soup-"
"I was just calling to ask you to leave the country with me."
"Huh?"
Jared shrugs.
"I've been trying to get you to do that for months," Jensen says. "And now it's twice in one day. Don't know what to do with-"
"Just say yes," Jared tells him. "Because goddammit Jen, if you don't-"
"Yes," Jensen says. He grabs ahold of Jared's jacket to tug him in. "Of course it's a yes."
"You ready to leave now?"
They go inside and Chad is pacing by the door.
"We can't take the elevator," Jensen tells him, suddenly all business.
"He's right," Chad says.
Chad has watched a lot of spy movies and Jensen is a spy, so Jared trusts them both.
"Well, what are we waiting for?"
They don't grab anything other than jackets and the keys to their old apartment, just across the border. They jog down the hall and take the winding stairs at a run, jumping down each level.
"Stop!" comes echoing down the parking garage.
"Holy shit," Jared says. "You were right."
"Fucking believe me," Chad shouts back. "You think I'd lie about this." He shoves Jared between the shoulder blades and takes off at a sprint, shouting, "Go, go, go!"
Jared sprints off toward the dark garage opening, shouts echoing after them. He looks around for Jensen but he's gone, a total ninja for real, but Jared has to trust that he can take care of himself.
Chad peels off.
"What are you doing?" Jared yells.
"My scooter!" Chad shouts back. "It's our best chance."
"It's out of gas in someone's driveway!"
"Fucking A, Jared!"
The garage gates start rolling closed. Chad wheels back around and sprints and almost makes it there before the doors clang shut, but he slams into the iron grating instead. Jared hits metal next to him and sees that Jensen is out on the street, looking torn.
"Go!" Jared yells, in actual life. "Save yourself!"
"Murray!" he hears. "Padalecki!"
Jared looks at Chad, who, wide eyed, looks over his shoulder.
It's Genevieve.
"Oh," says Chad. He lets go of the grating.
That sums things up.
Genevieve smiles as she gets closer. "Are you really that scared of me? That's kind of gratifying."
"Right." Jared laughs, putting his hands on his knees, breathing deep. "Okay, yeah."
"You're right. You should be scared of me," she says, coming closer. "You know what you forgot to do this morning?"
Jared looks over to the far side of the garage, heart sinking in his chest.
"Damn."
The recycling bin has pretty much been flattened, and bottles and glass shrapnel of their barbecue are everywhere.
Chad swivels around. "So there was no explosion?"
"If you call Mrs. Mlakar running the bin over 'an explosion.' It sure sounded like it."
"-so this in no way involved a package for me?" Chad asks.
"It's the middle of the night, dumbass."
"Fair point."
"This is so coming out of this month's rent." Then, she shouts to the street: "Ackles! I can see you hiding out there. Come help your boyfriend clean up so we can go get a drink."
Later, after sweeping up broken glass and beer bottles, feeling giddy, Chad slapping him on the back saying, "How did we even-" and Jared responding, "No fucking clue, I don't even know-" while Jensen stood and supervised the clean-up with Genevieve, they're at the Bar.
Chad is leaning over the countertop to Louis, discussing a possible cooking show spinoff. Danneel makes Genevieve a cherry vodka redbull with a maraschino cherry in it that looks a lot like a heart, and Adrianne arrives looking fly. Alona and Aldis somehow know to show up as well, just as Christian Kane and backup Steve are setting up on stage. Even Jim Beaver and Mark Sheppard are seated in the far corner with a bottle of the good stuff.
"So where does Alona even keep her gun?" Jared whispers.
"She's more of a sheath-on-spine kind of agent," Jensen says.
Alona looks up from down the bar, like she knows they are talking about her.
"Hey!" says a voice.
They turn.
It's Mike. He claps Jared on the shoulder and then drags Jensen in for a hug. Jared feels a spark of jealousy until he realizes that he can pretty much hug Jensen as much as he wants now.
"You take care of it?" Jensen asks.
"Well." Mike looks decidedly shifty.
Jensen sighs. "That should have been obvious."
Jared looks between the two of them. "What? What was obvious?"
"Our FBI friend," Jensen says.
"In my defense, he is really tall," Mike says. "Anyway, I threatened him with misconduct should he ever bother you again, so hooking up with him totally went in our favor."
"You're a complete genius," Jared tells him, sincere.
"Why, thank you."
"He mentioned you, actually.
"Oh yeah?"
"He says you two struck up an accord, and he meant to tackle Jensen, not you. He says sorry about your shirt."
Jared feels pleased. Welling sounds like a pretty good guy, actually. "Don't worry, it's velcro."
Jensen tells him, "You know, I always showed Tom up in the academy, which is why I managed to evade him when I crossed the border."
"You trying to impress me?"
"You are already impressed," Jensen tells him.
"You're right."
Alona says, "You know, I was beginning to doubt my abilities. I thought you were better at covering your tracks than Ackles, here. I tried to pull your file, but all they've got on you is collusion with a man named Chad, who fled six months ago when they tried to bring him in for evasion of jury duty. I feel better now that I know you're just a kid who stumbled into the country."
Jared freezes. "What?" He yells, "Chad!"
"He's here?" she asks, looking around.
"This was all about jury duty," Jared says. "Everything."
"Are you actually fucking with me?" Chad yells back.
"I've been hugging people for months because of this kid," Aldis tells Mike. "Do you know how awkward-"
Adrianne laughs from the other end of the bar and Mike ends up telling Aldis a story about a certain "vacation" he took once to Monaco that sounds like it could be classified, but who is Jared to say?
"You know," Jensen says, while everyone's talking. "I still need to leave."
Jared isn't surprised. He would leave, too, if he were Jensen, if he could finally see his family after all this. "I know."
"It has to be soon," Jensen says. "Tonight, even."
Chad looks away from Louis again. "Oh for the love of- Tonight? Hasn't there been enough action?"
"No time like the present," Jensen says.
"I'd feel legally-bound to tell the authorities," Danneel says. "But given that one of you is a Mountie...."
"And how long do you think...." Genevieve asks.
"Don't worry," Chad tells her. "We'll totally still pay rent. And it shouldn't be that long. Ackles here won't be able to stay away longer than a couple weeks. A month, tops. We'll be seeing y'all soon."
Jared looks at him, then to Jensen. "We?"
Jensen arches his eyebrows. "Well, obviously. I'm not just leaving you here. And I'm pretty sure you'll at least be suspended from work, so...."
"Dude totally wants to introduce you to his parents," Chad says, then looks past Jared to tell Jensen, "He's really slow, don't mind him."
"Well, it's midnight," Jared says.
"This is the earliest you'll have ever gone home," Danneel says. "I'd be worried if I didn't know you were leaving the country. Be good."
As they're walking out, after hugs and Chad grabbing Louis by the suspenders and kissing him rather epically, Jared hears Danneel exclaim, "What? Not a real Mountie!"
"Not a real Canadian," Genevieve tells her.
Louis says, "Dani, I have something to tell you, too."
Later, at the border, Chad's got a side bag, and shades pushed back on his head; Jensen's in a Ramones t-shirt and a hoodie; and Jared's in a North Face jacket and Levis that are three inches too short.
"Thank god for your boyfriend," Chad says, breath puffing out in a way that's reminiscent of that night, when he and Jared had spit on each other's palms and shaken on a brighter future.
"Thank god for the secret service, is more like it," Jensen says. "You know they have warehouses of disguises you can choose from. All different countries, styles, and eras. You name it."
Jared accepts this for a second, but then, "Why would you need clothes from another era...?"
Jensen grabs him by the face and kisses him, a hard smack on the lips. Jared is left dazed.
"Let's go," Jensen says.
They step toward the dotted line.
They step over the dotted line.
"Well," Chad says, and they start down the road.