J2 Big Bang Fic: Hewitched Part 1

[lizzywinks]

Back to Masterpost

"Um, Mr. Padalecki?"

Jared holds out his hand, not raising his eyes from his script and waits for the hot coffee he'd just been thinking about to slide into his grasp. There's not a single doubt in his mind it will happen-Genevieve is a pretty good assistant, Chad chose well this time, but even Jared's most hopeless assistants-Anita or, god help him, Claudia with her inability to keep more than one thing in her head for more than sixty seconds at a time-knew not to screw up his coffee order.

The tense silence registers at about the same time the lack of fragrant coffee aroma does. Jared lowers his script and lifts his gaze to find one of the PAs, who he couldn't name if he had a gun to his head, standing in front of him, shifting awkwardly on his feet.

"Hi, um, sir, I have a message from your assistant. Um, from Genevieve? Dark hair, kinda short?" He raises his hand to his own, already short, shoulder height and looks hopeful that a name and vague approximation of size will be sufficient description for the missing assistant.

"Yeah, I know who my assistant is..." Jared wrestles with his memory for a moment, attempting to drag the PA's name up from his boots. He gives up when he remembers Chad's insistence that trying to be the nice guy on a TV set was a one way ticket to loserville. "...Kid. What I don't know is where she is or why I'm not drinking my morning coffee right now."

"She said that you're, er, that is, she thinks that maybe you..." The kid stumbles to a halt and pulls fretfully at the crumpled piece of paper he's holding in his hand.

"Jesus, spit it out would you?"

"Genevieve said to tell you that you're a rat-bastard son of a bitch who deserves to die a horrible death, preferably live on a reality TV show while millions gather to point and laugh."

"Oh." Jared blinks. "So is she coming in late or...?"

"Um." The kid uncrumples the paper and scans it, eyes jumping frantically from side to side. "It doesn't say, but I think probably no?"

Jared sighs. He knew he shouldn't have slept with her. He hadn't even meant to, but after she'd arrived on set last night close to midnight with his dry cleaning in one hand and his dog's leash in the other he'd felt kinda bad, and unfortunately Chad hadn't been around to talk him out of it. When she'd also let it slip it was her birthday, he'd felt shitty enough to try to make up for making her work by taking her out for drinks. Four drinks in, it'd been pretty obvious she was expecting him to make a move on her. By that point the tequila had been going down smooth enough that it didn't seem like the worst idea ever, which was how he found himself three hours later fucking her awkwardly on the pixie-sized sofa in her apartment, trying to avoid his back seizing up on him while he bent himself into a pretzel and kept his gaze averted from the collection of family photos giving him the stink eye from the end table.

He doesn't remember much after that, but when he woke up, he was alone, so he'd sent up a quick prayer of thanks and gotten the hell out of there as fast as his fucked-up spine would allow. The sex itself went kind of okay, he thinks, so he assumes it was probably the post-coital conversation that went badly. Given more than one of his ex-fiancée’s numerous rants on the subject, probably very badly. Is it his fault sex makes him sleepy, and shuts down whatever small amount of self-censorship he's capable of? How can anyone be expected to remember to say all the right things when only half of his brain is on the clock anyway? Also, Jared just isn't a snuggler, and he's never really understood why anyone would want him to be. He breaks a sweat just reaching for the deodorant; even he admits he's kind of clammy to be around. If he was the girl, he'd be glad to have an excuse to hit the shower guilt free while his slippery, and okay, none-too-fresh smelling partner snoozed.

"I think probably no, too," Jared finally concedes sadly. He really does need an assistant; he has no idea where his dry cleaner is, or even how many sugars he takes in his coffee for that matter. Speaking of which... "Hey, kid, do you know how I take my coffee?"

"Um, sure," The kid says, looking cautiously delighted by the apparently easy question. "It's posted over in craft services."

Jared relaxes back into his chair with a sigh of relief. Crisis averted.



Danneel is perfect to play Samantha. Jared still can't believe his good luck in stumbling across her in the bookshop like that. If he'd been a more suspicious kind of a guy, he would have said it was too perfect: the cut-in camera shot of the lower half of her face through the tiny sliver of a gap between shelves, the good timing of that almost identical nose twitch, and then finally the ability to drop everything and take the role. Suspicions aside, casting had been going crappily enough that he wasn't about to question any of it too closely.

Although Danneel swears she's never acted before, she's scary good at it. If he's being honest, Jared knows he's flubbing more lines than she is, and the rehearsals are going smoother than any he's ever known before. The only problem he really has is that Danneel is a little bit intimidating. Sometimes he feels like the novice around her. His one consolation is that everyone seems to feel the same way; even Chad doesn't fuck around with Danneel, and Chad fucks around with everyone.

"So, Jared, where's your little assistant?"

Jared shifts in his chair, and looks up from his game of Angry Birds. They're waiting on the lighting guys to finish up, and then they'll be shooting the scene were Darrin discovers Samantha's a witch. It's the first shot of the pilot, and Jared, even with all his years of first days, new projects, and new co-stars, can feel his stomach churning: a mixture of panic and adrenaline chasing through his veins.

Danneel looks as cool as a cucumber, cell phone in her hand as she skims through her messages. Jared glances briefly down at the paused screen of his own phone. It's a little galling. Especially as all the jittering is messing up his aim.

"She quit. No one knows why," he adds quickly. "Chad's interviewing for a replacement, but in the meantime I'm having to make do with Gabe." Jared nods his head in the direction of the twitchy PA, hand written name badge firmly fixed to his chest, who's watching them with fixed intensity. His hand is poised over the coffee urn and he's bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, as if he's waiting for the starting pistol in a hundred meter dash.

Danneel directs her gaze briefly toward Gabe, a frown crinkling her brow. "He seems... eager," she allows, attention immediately back on her phone.

"Yeah, he's definitely that." Jared angles his head slightly to the side so that Gabe won't be able to read his lips. He actually has no idea whether Gabe can read lips, but he has creepy stalker written all over him. Knowing what someone was saying out of earshot seemed like the sort of skill you picked up after enough time spent watching people from behind conveniently placed bushes. Or through a telephoto lens.

Jared had woken from his nap on the couch in his trailer earlier in the day to find Gabe's face looming only inches from his own. Through Jared's startled yelling, Gabe had sworn blind he thought he'd heard Jared muttering his name when he went to wake him as arranged. After his heart rate had decelerated to a more manageable thump, Jared was pretty sure Gabe had actually been trying to cut off a piece of his hair, or maybe even collect a little bit of his drool. Either way, Jared spent the best part of an hour figuring out how to set up a search on eBay for his name combined with an auction item that was fluid or bodily related.

He might also have set up a couple of fake accounts just in case the final sale price needed a little nudging. It would be humiliating if an actual piece of him came up for sale and it didn't result in a bidding war.

"So, Jared," Danneel says, interrupting his thoughts on bidding strategies. "Explain to me why you aren't hiring your own assistant?"

"Oh. Well, I guess I'm not really good at that kind of thing, and Chad says it's easier if he does it. Plus I am kind of busy. It just makes sense."

Danneel's gaze flickers briefly over to his paused game, but she doesn't mention his obvious, excessive, amounts of free time beyond a vague raising of an eyebrow. "Huh, so you can't tell if you're going to be able to work with someone until your manager tells you you can? Seems like you did okay when you found me."

Jared shrugs, and hopes the movement doesn't look as defensive as it feels. "I can, I mean, of course I can, but I can be pretty impulsive, and there's always someone ready to sucker you in with a sob story. It's really easy for celebrities to get taken advantage of-you'll need to be careful of that if the show's a hit. I mean, television star isn't in the same league as movie star, and you'll probably never be on the same level as me, fame-wise, but even so..."

"Yeah." Danneel's grin reminds Jared suddenly of the sleek orange cat that belonged to the old lady who lived next door to his childhood home, superior and amused as it toyed with a mouse, letting the tiny creature think it had a chance before tossing it high in the air and batting it back down to the ground. "I can imagine. Pretty sure I'll be okay though."

"Okay, well," Jared hesitates, suddenly uncertain that there's anything he can teach Danneel. Even though he is definitely always going to be more famous. "If you need any advice-"

"Thanks, I'll keep it in mind." Danneel's phone lets out a goodbye trill as she shuts it off, and she swivels on her seat to face him fully. "But you know what I think? I think you don't give yourself enough credit-you're an excellent judge of character. I mean, hello, Exhibit A sitting right beside you. Plus, I know it wasn't as easy as you made out, but you still didn't let the network tell you I was too big a risk to take on."

"That's because they knew you were perfect, too-they just hate it when someone else does their job for them. Makes them worried people might figure out that a monkey in a suit could pretty much do what they do."

Danneel smiles, unusually soft and fond. "My Uncle Alan once spent an entire summer as a capuchin monkey. He said it was an accident, but it was about the same time my aunt took up ballroom dancing, so no one ever really bought it. Personally, I always thought it was less about avoiding sequins and more about how much he loved that tiny fez."

Jared waits for the punchline, and then waits a little longer. When it finally dawns on him that nothing's coming, he grins weakly. He knows the studio arranged for acting lessons for Danneel, even though he's less sure that she actually took any. Either way, she's sometimes a little too method for comfort. Danneel still seems lost in her fake memories of her uncle and his passion for miniature exotic headwear, and possibly bananas, so Jared lets out a muffled cough.

"Sorry," Danneel says, blinking up at him almost in surprise. "Anyway, maybe you're right, but my point still stands; if you hired your own assistant, you'd be able to find someone who was your type instead of Chad's."

Jared shakes his head. Sure, Chad definitely has a type: generally small, curvy brunettes. And maybe it’s true that most of the assistants Jared has had over the past few years have ended up in Chad's bed-and shortly thereafter out of a job, always by their own choice as most women have a pretty low tolerance for his manager and friend once he’s over his initial charm and best-behavior phase-but that doesn't mean Chad is using Jared’s assistants as a way to get laid. Jared pauses to consider that for a moment. Probably it doesn't mean that Chad is using Jared's assistants as a way to get laid.

And even if he was- "As it happens Genevieve was my type. That's kind of the reason I'm in this mess right now."

Danneel lets out a husky laugh that tapers off into a frown when Jared stares blankly back at her. When he raises an eyebrow at her, Danneel leans forward and presses her palm, fingers spread, to his chest, her head cocked thoughtfully to one side. Bizarrely, despite his looks (and talent and fame) Danneel's never shown an ounce of interest in him. Other than a quick tinge of pique, Jared has mostly just felt relieved-casting had been hard enough without having to start over once sex inevitably soured relations between them-so her sudden desire to cop a feel is basically just confusing.

Danneel lets out another soft laugh at Jared's furrowed brow.

"Oh, Jared, I'm sorry. It's just really sweet that you think that."

Jared frowns harder. He isn't stupid, not by a long shot, even if his child modeling career evolving into acting meant he hadn't had time for college and had only graduated high school because his mama felt guilty and insisted. But he knows that lots of people-most people-underestimate him, and think his movie-star looks and sculpted body means the only muscles he's ever bothered cultivating are below the neck. Jared stiffens, and sits back in his chair, dislodging Danneel's hand still resting on his chest. Chad was right. Getting too friendly with co-stars and crew is always a mistake.

Danneel's laughter dries up, and she reaches out to take his hand in hers. Jared stifles the childish urge to yank it back.

"Hey, no, I wasn't laughing at you," she says, looking briefly worried that she might have offended him. It's the first time Jared's seen her looking anything but self-assured.

Jared shrugs and forces a wide grin. "Hell, plenty to laugh at, I know."

"No, seriously, I wasn't laughing at you, it's just..."

Jared watches, feeling his jaw beginning to ache from holding his smile fixed in position for so long. Danneel sighs and pats his hand twice before releasing him.

"Okay, look, never mind. But I was serious about you hiring your own assistant."

"Yeah, maybe. I'll think about it." Jared thumbs off his phone. He doesn't feel much like playing any more; it is kind of dumb. "Think I'm just gonna go see how much longer before we're needed."

"No, Jared, hang on a second. What I was going to say is that I think I might be able to help you with that; I have a cousin who's new in town looking for a job."

Jared sinks back into his chair, relieved to finally understand what the conversation has been about. "And you want me to give her a job?" The smile on his lips turns cynical, before a thought occurs to him, derailing his plans for a very firm thanks, but no thanks. "Hey, wait, does she look anything like you? Because that would be so cool! Do you remember when Samantha's cousin used to show up? I loved those episodes! And Serena was way hotter than Samantha, which I know is crazy because they were both her. Has your cousin ever acted? We could talk to the writers about starting work on some Serena episodes. And best of all, we wouldn't need to spend a dime on CGI!"

"Wow," Danneel says, already shaking her head, "you really have a geek on for the show, don't you? Sorry to disappoint, but we don't look anything alike. Plus, trust me, in this version I'm the wicked cousin and Jen's the sweet one, and definitely not the actor. What I meant was that Jen would be the perfect assistant for you."

Jared bites his lip, still caught up in the idea of introducing Serena into the cast. It would be a bitch to film, but even so-

"So how about it, Jared? Can I set up a meeting?"

"Huh? Oh, um, sure, why not?" He can always say no after he's met her. Never hurts to keep his costars happy, after all.



"So, Jen is short for...?"

Jared watches curiously as the other man blinks back at him. He looks a little stunned, eyes wide as he gazes around the studio set Danneel had delivered him to with the air of a magician producing a rabbit from a hat, and then disappearing the second Jared took his eyes off her.

"Jensen. I thought... didn't Danni-" Jensen, apparently, stumbles to a halt as an eight-foot-long hotdog in a bun is wheeled past them. "Wow. That is one big wiener."

Jared snorts, and Jensen's glance swings back toward him. He still looks faintly shell-shocked, and something almost like disappointed, but his own lips begin to twitch when he catches sight of Jared's expression. "And I'm guessing from your expression I'm not the only one surprised by the appearance of a giant wiener today."

Jared grins, and glances down at the résumé in his hand. "Giant? I think if this was my résumé, I'd have that listed above my name. In bold. Not," he hurriedly adds, face beginning to warm, "that I'm saying I'm small, or that you need to know that, but for the record I'm not, um-"

"A freak of nature?" Jensen supplies, looking more relaxed. A half grin briefly curves his lips before he schools his face into more formal lines and holds out his hand. "Good to know, Mr. Padalecki. I'm Jensen Ackles, Danneel's cousin, which I think you already knew, and, yes, I am male, which I think you probably didn't."

"To be fair," Jared allows, enjoying the dry warmth of Jensen's grip. "I don't think she ever called you Jenny, I just assumed. And, dude, we've already basically compared the size of our genitals; I think we're past the point of formality; call me Jared."

Jensen pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his red, sneaker-clad feet shuffling awkwardly on the floor. "Okay, Jared, and sorry for the mix-up. Danni has an... odd sense of humor. Seriously, though, if you aren't looking to hire a guy, I can get out of your way now...?"

Jared finds himself shaking his head forcefully before he even realizes he's going to do it. They've only just met, but already he's pretty sure he likes Jensen. He allows himself a minute of doubt, because really, he isn't good at this kind of thing, and then disregards it when Jensen just watches him calmly, bright green eyes gleaming under soot-black lashes. Strike that. He's sure he likes Jensen.

"No, it's fine, but I guess I still need to interview you? I mean, I know you're Danni's cousin, but I should probably ask you a couple of questions. Or you know, any."

"Okay, go for it. I mean, I thought I kind of aced that 'What's Jen short for?' opener, but I figured it wouldn't be that simple."

"Awesome. But just so you know, you really are blowing the competition right out of the water right now."

"And by that, I take it that I'm the first person you've interviewed?"

Jared inclines his head. "You take it correctly. Okay, so have you done this kind of thing before?"

"Um, no."

"Oh," Jared pauses, slightly thrown. "But you've done something similar?"

"Okay, right." Jensen lifts a hand to scrub at the back of his neck. "That would also be a no."

"So what made you decide to come and meet with me, because I have to assume your childhood dreams didn't involve growing up to be someone's assistant?"

"Coffee, Mr. Padalecki?"

Jared jumps. He's been so focused on the way Jensen's been gnawing worriedly on his lower lip, eyes soft and unfocused as he considers his response, that Jared's completely missed Gabe's approach. He bites back a frustrated sound when Jensen's gaze sharpens and fixes on a point somewhere just behind him. Jared spins on his heel to find Gabe hovering at his elbow, steaming cup grasped in his outstretched hand.

"Gabe, what the hell...? Never mind. No, no coffee, unless... Jensen, do you want a coffee?

Gabe looks horrified, and pulls the huge, insulated mug possessively back toward his chest. "But, Mr. Padalecki, this is your special mug! You said it was my job to guard it at all times-"

"I did not!" Jared breaks in hurriedly, a flush of embarrassment heating his skin. Jensen raises an eyebrow, and Jared feels the blush deepen. "It's just a mug! I may have mentioned once being careful not to break it-"

"No, sir, you definitely said-"

"Gabe! Can you just, just go over, um, there." Jared points to a random spot on the far side of the set. Gabe's gaze follows the tip of his finger to the shadowed area filled with equipment and cables. His mouth droops unhappily. "Go on," Jared insists, making small, shooing motions with his fingers when Gabe looks set to linger.

Jensen, Jared is almost painfully aware, has been watching curiously but blissfully silently up to this point. At the sight of Gabe's crestfallen expression, though, he takes a step forward and holds out his hand. Gabe takes it cautiously, as if he suspects he's about to be pranked.

"Good to meet you," Jensen says. Gabe pulls his hand back slightly quicker than is polite, and then pushes on through to full out impolite by wiping it fastidiously on the seat of his pants. Jensen stares down at his own hand, puzzled, and then back up at Gabe, slightly less warmth in his expression now. "And sorry if I'm screwing with your schedule. If it's any consolation I guess if Jared hires me as his assistant, you'll be off coffee duty."

Gabe's eyes round in betrayal. "New assistant? But-but I thought I..."

Jared frowns down at Gabe when he stumbles to a stop. Gabe has been odd from the get-go, but given a choice between doing his own fetching and carrying or having an assistant, even a weird, potentially breaking news at eleven kind of assistant, it was pretty much a no-brainer for Jared.

Mostly he doesn't care anyway; Jared gives his assistant a list of things he needs doing, and they get done. Usually the person carrying out his chores is a little more personable, and definitely easier on the eye, but basically it's the perfect arrangement as far as Jared is concerned. He has money, but no time or inclination for the minutiae that ensure the smooth running of his life, and people like Gabe have time but no money. Comparatively speaking, anyway. The way Jared sees it, having an assistant is kind of like those little birds in Africa that pick the meat out of the crocodile's teeth. Win-win.

So, while normally he barely even notices who's doing the work until they screw up-or move on, and he has to go through another round of introductions, and waiting for them to get good and figuring out how he likes everything-suddenly now, for some reason, he's very aware of how this might look to an outsider. Because if Jared associates with crazy people, then maybe he's a little crazy too.

When he sneaks a glance over at Jensen though, Jensen doesn't look like he's ready to run. He's studying Gabe closely, a considering expression on his face, but no sign he's regretting showing up, which means Jared's still got time to save this.

"Seriously, Gabe," he says hurriedly. "We're right in the middle of something here. So if you could..." he tilts his head meaningfully across the room. Gabe looks as if he's about to speak, but although his lips form words, no sound emerges. His mouth closes shut with a snap when Jared minutely shakes his head. With a heavy sigh, Gabe turns and makes his way slowly across the floor, shoulders slumped and taking several long looks behind him, as though he's hoping Jared is going to change his mind and call him back.

"Sorry about that," Jared turns to Jensen to say, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to shake out the awkward.

"No problem. The little guy seems to be pretty... devoted to you. You must be a good boss."

"Thanks." Jared's face seems to be having difficulty holding in the beaming grin that wants to break free. He likes being praised, likes it even when he doesn't actually deserve it. After all, there are plenty of times when he does deserve it and gets completely overlooked-the empty, trophy sized, glass cabinet in his media room springs immediately to mind-but usually he can keep a lid on it. Can at least act humble, even when he's totally not feeling it.

For some reason, he's having trouble today. He pauses to rake carefully casual fingers through his hair until he's back under control and then turns to face Jensen. "I mean, he is pretty dedicated, but I didn't actually hire him or anything; he's a studio employee. He's just been helping out since my last assistant, um, moved on." Jared feels a flicker of something tingle up his spine as he remembers why Genevieve had left, and why hiring someone there was no risk of him accidentally sleeping with was a really smart idea.

Jensen seems distracted by something out of Jared's line of sight. From the weird, prickling sensation at the back of his neck, Jared can guess what it is. When he turns, Gabe is indeed staring fixedly at them from over in his little corner of the set, hemmed in by equipment, and craning his neck as though hoping if he can just angle it far enough in the right direction, he'll be able to hear what they're saying.

Yeah, not creepy at all.

Jared claps his hands together briskly, and Jensen startles. "How about we head over to my trailer to finish our talk?" he asks brightly, and takes a casual step to the right to block Gabe from Jensen's gaze.

Jensen looks undecided, and Jared holds his breath until the other man finally nods his head.

"This is where you live?" Jensen asks curiously when they're both standing in the middle of the trailer's main room.

Jared laughs, and then tries to turn it into a cough when Jensen looks backs at him, a slight frown crinkling his forehead. Jensen has freckles, Jared notices absently; they run across the bridge of his nose, a slightly darker shade than the rest of his skin. It's unusual in Hollywood to see freckles and other natural imperfections left uncovered. Chad had lobbied hard in the early days for Jared to get his own moles removed, and only caved when the doctor had warned there was a chance that the scaring would be more noticeable than the moles had ever been. By the time Jared had enough money to pay for a plastic surgeon who was good enough that the chance of success far outweighed the risks, Jared's moles were almost as famous as he was. Getting rid of them now would be like Manilow getting a nose job. Okay, maybe not that big, but still noticeable.

Jared only snaps back to attention when he realizes Jensen is squirming a little in the prolonged silence. Feeling caught out, Jared heads quickly over to the small kitchen area to fuss unnecessarily for a few moments grabbing a couple of water bottles from the fridge.

"No," Jared finally says when they're both seated on the two small couches situated opposite each other across a small glass-and-chrome coffee table. "This is just a place to relax on set between takes while we're waiting to be called."

"Oh." Jensen gazes around the surprisingly large room, taking in the flat screen TV, game consoles and iPod dock and laptop sitting open and ready on a table across from them. Through the half-open door, Jared can see his full-size bed, rumpled from an earlier nap. "So do you have to share it or...?"

Jared shakes his head. "No, this is just mine," Jensen makes a small sound that Jared can't interpret, and he hears himself babbling suddenly. "I'm not the only one who has one, but trailers are generally just for the main stars," he says awkwardly, embarrassed for the first time in a long time about the luxuries he takes for granted.

"So Danni has her own trailer, too?"

"Um, yeah, it's probably a little... um, smaller, I mean, our agents negotiate this kind of thing, and Danni wouldn't... um, but yeah, sure."

"Okay." Jensen nods, and settles back into the sofa cushions, twisting the cap off his water bottle. Jared watches as he tilts his head back and takes a long swallow, his gaze captured by the muscles in Jensen's throat rippling as he drinks. Jared puts his own bottle to his mouth hurriedly when Jensen lowers his, but he misjudges his aim, smacking the edge of the plastic painfully into his lip.

"Fuck," Jared mutters, lifting his hand toward his face and tapping cautiously at the sore spot to see if he's managed to actually break the skin. His fingers come away clean and he's exploring his lip with the edge of his tongue to see if it's swollen when the charged silence suddenly seeps through his distraction.

When he looks up, Jensen has scooted forward again, perched precariously on the edge of the sofa, a weirdly intense look in his eyes. When he catches Jared's gaze on him, he tilts his lips in a half grin and settles purposely back again. The odd moment leaves Jared fumbling for words, and he settles quickly on a question.

"What have you been doing before now?"

"You mean for a job?" Jensen asks. "What did Danni tell you?"

"Not much really. Actually, pretty much nothing at all," Jared admits, only just then realizing how little he knows, and pretty sure that Jensen is stalling.

"Well, I haven't really-up to now, I mean-had what I suppose you'd technically call a job. I've been busy though. I do other things, I mean, just not that... thing."

Jared blinks. He can't really judge. He's never had a job before either. Not the kind he knows other people have, but it's never occurred to him at any point that it's something to be embarrassed about. His life is pretty awesome, and getting up at the ass-crack of dawn to slog through a work day at the mercy of some asshole with more money or power than him doesn't sound awesome in the slightest. He's seen The Office. He knows what he's talking about.

Jensen however, seems to have a different view. He's red-faced, staring intently at a fraying edge on his jeans that he's scratching at furiously with the edge of a nail. Jared has the urge to reach out and trap his fidgeting hand with his own, but he pushes it back and instead offers, "That's cool." Jensen's head comes winging up, a cautiously hopefully light in his eyes. "I mean, it's not a deal breaker or anything," Jared slots in hastily. "Basically, all you'll need to do is get me coffee and run errands. Not even many errands. Honestly, it's really not that hard."

Jensen blinks. "Are you saying I've got the job?"

Is he? "If you want it," Jared hears himself say, and then holds his breath while he waits for Jensen's response.

"Huh." Jensen glances around him, and then back over at Jared. He grins. "Cool."

Jared grins back.

Chapter 2