Common Knowledge Ch. 5--Fic
Title: Common Knowledge
Author: elucreh
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Summary: Jared, your fangirls. Fangirls, I believe you already know Jared. Better than he knows himself.
Notes: Obviously, they belong to each other. Extended notes following epilogue.
:: 1-The Con-going Fangirl :: 2-Filk :: 3-Fanreports :: 4-The Everyday Fangirl :: 5-Fic :: 6-The Fangirl Online :: 7-Rose-Colored Interviews :: 8-The Fangirl On-Set :: Epilogue: The Kripked Fangirl::
CHAPTER FIVE: Fic
The alarm jolts him out of an uneasy doze at four. Jared had intended to set it to sleep for half an hour two or three times before actually getting out of bed, as a way of easing into his stupid shooting schedule, but he knows immediately there's no point to it. The Rachel Problem isn't going to let him get any more shuteye.
Growling and muttering under his breath, he rolls off the bed and viciously pokes the power button on his computer.
The journal is still in his history and he sits and stares at Sam, who glares back at him, uncompromising. For a moment, he finds himself wishing that Sam weren't quite so stubborn-which is insane. He shakes himself and his eye lands on the little link in the sidebar.
...He should know what she might be thinking, shouldn't he? Just in case she is...crazy.
The thought makes him feel guilty as hell-this is Rachel, she's his friend, she's not crazy, but...Seeing things that aren't there qualifies as crazy, doesn't it?
BitchfaceTM's del.icio.us account looks like anybody else's, with a list of tags down the side, and the first one is "au." He can use wikipedia, same as anybody, and it turns up "alternate universe." Like the djinn thing. Okay. So...not really about them, maybe?
The first story he clicks, about all their friends as superheroes, has him grinning in about six paragraphs. By the time he gets to Chad's utility belt, complete with lube, he's only hoping his sniggering isn't waking anybody. When he gets to Mike's codename, he's laughing so hard that the dogs come skittering into the room, and he has to stop and pat them until they're sure he's all right. And yeah, okay, towards the end there's some more of that sexin'-with-Jensen-and oh god, that rhymes-but it isn't mushy or anything and hell, if they're all this good, he can skim.
*~*~*
Jensen eyes his friend warily.
They've been back on set for a month now, and Jared's on a new kick. A dangerous one, because it's secret, more like the peanut butter incident than a new video game they have to beat or Jared's months-long campaign to make every person he knew put change in those little orphan boxes at supermarkets. Only worse, because at least he told Jensen about the peanut butter. This time, so far as Jensen can tell, he hasn't told a soul. Not even Sandy, when Jensen called her, although she's anxious, too. Not even Jensen.
It's the random little things that worry him the most...strange things are making Jared laugh nowadays. There's nothing that funny about Dancing with the Stars, for instance. And as for Jared's hovering every time Jensen had to talk to his uncle about his dad's surprise party, Jensen doesn't even want to try to guess what that was about.
At least Jared's still talking about six times as much and ten times as fast as a normal person, though. This means that a) he doesn't think he's doing anything wrong and b) he might let something slip, thank god.
Jared's snort when Tom left for the bathroom a few minutes after Mike has Jensen seriously worried, though. Surely he didn't booby-trap the urinals...
"Jensen!" Jared declaims, waving his beer around, almost hitting his friend in the eye. "Jensen, my dearest friend."
"Yes, Jared?" he says mildly, pushing Jared's bottle away from his face.
Jared leans in close, looking deep into Jensen's eyes, rolling the mouth of his beer against his lip absently. "You-you are my very. Best. Friend."
"Thank you."
"I wish we had gone to college together." Jared slings an arm around his shoulders, plants a giant paw over Jensen's heart.
"Me, too, Jared."
"You-are the model to my artist, the samurai to my shogun, the dogsitter to my movie star, the nobody to my shadow." He gets even closer and touches his beer to the tip of Jensen's nose, his breath heavy with beer and salt, and Jensen freezes. "You, my friend, are the cop to my teacher." He leans back and wraps his lips around the mouth of the bottle, throat working as the condensation slides from glass to lip to chin and down over the side.
Okay, so Jared's metaphors aren't making sense and Jensen's started being fascinated by tiny details. He'd better get them both out of there before Tom has another dust mote story to tell.
*~*~*
It's late, the last scene of the day, and everyone's stressed and worn.
"Hey, I can be classy." Dean burps loudly, and gets a thoughtful expression on his face. "Huh. Onions."
“Don't worry, baby,” drawls Sam. “I'll still kiss you in the morning.”
There's a moment of stunned silence before the director yells, "CUT!"
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Author: elucreh
Pairing: Jared/Jensen
Summary: Jared, your fangirls. Fangirls, I believe you already know Jared. Better than he knows himself.
Notes: Obviously, they belong to each other. Extended notes following epilogue.
:: 1-The Con-going Fangirl :: 2-Filk :: 3-Fanreports :: 4-The Everyday Fangirl :: 5-Fic :: 6-The Fangirl Online :: 7-Rose-Colored Interviews :: 8-The Fangirl On-Set :: Epilogue: The Kripked Fangirl::
CHAPTER FIVE: Fic
The alarm jolts him out of an uneasy doze at four. Jared had intended to set it to sleep for half an hour two or three times before actually getting out of bed, as a way of easing into his stupid shooting schedule, but he knows immediately there's no point to it. The Rachel Problem isn't going to let him get any more shuteye.
Growling and muttering under his breath, he rolls off the bed and viciously pokes the power button on his computer.
The journal is still in his history and he sits and stares at Sam, who glares back at him, uncompromising. For a moment, he finds himself wishing that Sam weren't quite so stubborn-which is insane. He shakes himself and his eye lands on the little link in the sidebar.
...He should know what she might be thinking, shouldn't he? Just in case she is...crazy.
The thought makes him feel guilty as hell-this is Rachel, she's his friend, she's not crazy, but...Seeing things that aren't there qualifies as crazy, doesn't it?
BitchfaceTM's del.icio.us account looks like anybody else's, with a list of tags down the side, and the first one is "au." He can use wikipedia, same as anybody, and it turns up "alternate universe." Like the djinn thing. Okay. So...not really about them, maybe?
The first story he clicks, about all their friends as superheroes, has him grinning in about six paragraphs. By the time he gets to Chad's utility belt, complete with lube, he's only hoping his sniggering isn't waking anybody. When he gets to Mike's codename, he's laughing so hard that the dogs come skittering into the room, and he has to stop and pat them until they're sure he's all right. And yeah, okay, towards the end there's some more of that sexin'-with-Jensen-and oh god, that rhymes-but it isn't mushy or anything and hell, if they're all this good, he can skim.
*~*~*
Jensen eyes his friend warily.
They've been back on set for a month now, and Jared's on a new kick. A dangerous one, because it's secret, more like the peanut butter incident than a new video game they have to beat or Jared's months-long campaign to make every person he knew put change in those little orphan boxes at supermarkets. Only worse, because at least he told Jensen about the peanut butter. This time, so far as Jensen can tell, he hasn't told a soul. Not even Sandy, when Jensen called her, although she's anxious, too. Not even Jensen.
It's the random little things that worry him the most...strange things are making Jared laugh nowadays. There's nothing that funny about Dancing with the Stars, for instance. And as for Jared's hovering every time Jensen had to talk to his uncle about his dad's surprise party, Jensen doesn't even want to try to guess what that was about.
At least Jared's still talking about six times as much and ten times as fast as a normal person, though. This means that a) he doesn't think he's doing anything wrong and b) he might let something slip, thank god.
Jared's snort when Tom left for the bathroom a few minutes after Mike has Jensen seriously worried, though. Surely he didn't booby-trap the urinals...
"Jensen!" Jared declaims, waving his beer around, almost hitting his friend in the eye. "Jensen, my dearest friend."
"Yes, Jared?" he says mildly, pushing Jared's bottle away from his face.
Jared leans in close, looking deep into Jensen's eyes, rolling the mouth of his beer against his lip absently. "You-you are my very. Best. Friend."
"Thank you."
"I wish we had gone to college together." Jared slings an arm around his shoulders, plants a giant paw over Jensen's heart.
"Me, too, Jared."
"You-are the model to my artist, the samurai to my shogun, the dogsitter to my movie star, the nobody to my shadow." He gets even closer and touches his beer to the tip of Jensen's nose, his breath heavy with beer and salt, and Jensen freezes. "You, my friend, are the cop to my teacher." He leans back and wraps his lips around the mouth of the bottle, throat working as the condensation slides from glass to lip to chin and down over the side.
Okay, so Jared's metaphors aren't making sense and Jensen's started being fascinated by tiny details. He'd better get them both out of there before Tom has another dust mote story to tell.
*~*~*
It's late, the last scene of the day, and everyone's stressed and worn.
"Hey, I can be classy." Dean burps loudly, and gets a thoughtful expression on his face. "Huh. Onions."
“Don't worry, baby,” drawls Sam. “I'll still kiss you in the morning.”
There's a moment of stunned silence before the director yells, "CUT!"
Previous | Next