Fic: Apologies - Jensen/OFC (RPH)
Title: Apologies
Author: magikalrhiannon
Rating: NC-17 for language
Pairing: Jensen/OFC (mentions Jensen/Danneel)
Summary: Jensen did a bad thing. Now he wants a chance to make it up.
Disclaimer: There are not enough words to describe how fake this is. None of it is real, except BC Breakers and Edmonton Chimos are real women’s ice hockey teams, and UBC really are the Thundercats.
Author’s Note: Yeah I don’t know where this came from. Just kinda popped into my head the other night and I wrote it. I’m not posting this for any other reason than I want to and since it’s my journal, you can either read it or just close the window. For caithream for her birthday. Sorry it's not Het PWP, but ... hope you like it anyway.
Jensen drew a deep breath as he pushed open the glass door, nodding awkwardly at the mother and seven-year-old, who he assumed was her daughter, in a sparkling tutu exiting the building and made he way inside. The air conditioning hit his skin and he pulled his jacket tighter around him. He’d forgotten how cold it got inside arenas. He smiled at the kid behind the admission counter as he asked for one ticket into the BC Breakers verses the Edmonton Chimos game.
Tugging on the edge of his beanie, or toque as the Canadians called them, he made his way inside and found a seat somewhere in the middle, where there was no one else sitting. Nervously, he chewed on some gum as he waited for the arena to slowly fill up before the game finally started.
He didn’t know a lot about hockey - not like some of his friends did, Mike Rosenbaum for example, but he knew the rules and he could follow the game. He just didn’t love it like he did football. But the game itself wasn’t why he was there.
He sat up straighter as a whistle and horn blew.
“Goal! Scored by number nine, Martina Everett. Assisted by number ten, Katy Lacasse and number ninety-three, Jennifer Kindret.”
He clapped, inwardly cheering, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face. At intermission, he made his way down to the concession stand and bought a hot coffee. Before the second period started, he bought a second one to take back to his seat.
He didn’t mind hockey. Not really. It was a fun game, when it was fast and furious, each team battling for the puck and turning it over and chasing the opposition to their offensive zone. End-to-end hockey, Mike called it. Jensen didn’t care what it was called. Not when Marti was out on the ice. He couldn’t help but watch her out there. The numbers helped, but he knew her body anywhere. Knew the way she moved, the colour of her hair hanging out the back of her helmet. Knew why she wore the number nine.
She didn’t know he was there. Didn’t know he knew she was back in town. Didn’t know he’d been waiting for her. It wasn’t like they were on speaking terms. His fault, not hers. Jensen sighed as he looked down at his coffee as she took her place on the bench on the other side of the rink. He looked up the moment he felt her eyes on him. He knew he had a deer-stuck-in-headlights look on his face for a moment as she raised a gloved hand in acknowledgement. Shaking himself out of it, he raised a hand and waved before she resumed watching the game, ignoring him once again.
That was enough to kick start the butterflies in the pit of his stomach. He still wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, but he’d been unable to stay away, now that he knew she was in town - better yet, in town for at least nine months. Jensen concentrated on the game, clapping again when Martina scored her second goal of the night.
When the period ended, he kind of hoped that she would come out and see him, at least say something, but she didn’t. Of course she wouldn’t. She was a professional hockey player. It wasn’t like she could just walk around between periods. She had strategy and … things… to discuss with her coach and teammates. She wouldn’t have time to talk to him. Hell, she probably didn’t even want to talk to him. God, he didn’t even know what he was doing there.
Somehow the third period went past his eyes without him realising it. That’s what freaking out did. It made the world fly by without him realising it. He jumped when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out.
Chill the fuck out dude. Can feel u angsting from here.
He sighed, and texted back to Jared, am fine. Shut up.
The phone buzzed again. U seen her yet?
Yes.
How she look?
He paused for a moment. Good. She looks good.
Go get her tiger.
Jensen snorted and put the phone in his pocket. The final buzzer went off, Vancouver’s BC Breakers won 4-2. The players skated off the ice and the crowd made their way to the exit. Jensen just sat there. A cleaner came by, sweeping up the junk people left behind.
“Hey. Game’s over man. Time to go home.”
Jensen looked up. “Uh, yeah, I was waiting for someone.”
“Well you can’t wait here.” He swept up an empty coffee cup. “A player?”
“Huh?”
The cleaner smiled. “You waiting for a player?”
“Oh. Uh, yeah.” Jensen rubbed the back of his neck. God, his fingers were cold.
“They don’t come out the front. They go out the side door. You might wanna wait in the parking lot.”
Jensen nodded. “Okay. Thanks. Good to know.”
He got up and made his way outside. It wasn’t hard to find the side door, and at least the cleaner wasn’t lying when the door opened and players came walking out. A few of them looked him over but none of them stopped, thankfully. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself. It was cold out.
Martina came out the door with another woman, talking about something. She stopped midsentence when she saw him leaning against the hood of a car. He stood upright immediately. Martina’s friend looked between the two of them.
“Uh, yeah, okay, well I’ll call you, Marti,” she said and Martina nodded absently and waved as she slowly walked towards Jensen.
“Hey,” he said, feeling awkward. Not knowing what to do with himself, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“Hey,” she said, her bag falling off her shoulder to the ground. “Um. How are you?”
He shrugged. “I’m okay. You know. Busy, and stuff. Workin’. You know how it is.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I guess I do. What are you doing here?”
Jensen pulled a hand out of his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Uh, I came to see a hockey game.”
Martina stared at him. “You hate hockey.”
“I don’t hate hockey,” he protested.
“Jensen. C’mon.” But she was trying not to smile, not to tease him. He took this as a good thing.
“I’m serious. I’ve been learning.” He smiled. “Go on, ask me something.”
“Who drafted Wayne Gretzky?” she asked.
He opened his mouth to answer and then paused. Shit. “Okay, ask me something anyone should know.”
Martina finally smiled a little and swatted his arm. “Any hockey fan should know that.” He could tell she couldn’t help it when a laugh escaped her mouth.
He joined her laughter and smiled again. “I’ve missed that.”
“What?”
“You laughin’.” Her laughter died off softly and he sighed. “Guess I didn’t give you much of a reason to last time we saw each other.”
She nodded. “Guess not.”
“How was Europe?” he asked tentatively.
“Good. Saw lots of art, visited some amazing places, slept with some amazing guys. It was good.”
Jensen looked down and away. “Guess I deserved that.”
“Guess you did,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.
“I’m sorry, Marti,” he said softly, and looked up at her. “I really am. I just… I have no excuse for what I did.”
“There’s no excuse in the world that’s acceptable, Jensen,” she replied softly.
“I know. But I really am sorry. I lied to you. By omission, but still,” he dragged in a deep breath. “You deserved better than that.”
“Yeah. Yeah I did,” she agreed, and moved closer to lean against the car beside him.
“You looked good out there tonight,” he said, motioning to the rink.
“Thanks.”
“You playing pro now?” he asked, nudging her. She shook her head.
“Nah, just filling in for the tryouts. It was an exhibition game.”
“Oh. I, um, I heard you were playing pro here this season.”
“You shouldn’t always believe what you hear,” she said as she looked away over her shoulder at the sound of a car starting up, and he nodded. “Um, I will be here in Vancouver for a while though. I got into UBC for my masters in Physical Therapy.”
“Oh Marti! That’s fantastic! Congratulations. I-I know you really wanted that,” he said, genuinely happy for her. His first instinct was to reach for her, hug her. His hands itched to move but he fisted his fingers instead and kept them inside his pockets.
“Thanks,” she nodded. “I’m gonna try out for the Thundercats, the women’s team at UBC.”
“So. You’ll be around for a while?”
“Jensen.”
“I was just asking,” he held up his hands in mock surrender.
She sighed. “Yeah. I’ll be around for a while.”
“Maybe… Maybe we could hang out sometime. You know, catch up?” he asked hesitantly.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Why not?” he asked softly.
Martina moved away from the car. “Because Jensen. I just don’t…” she dragged in a deep breath. “God I… I fell in love with you, Jen. And the whole time you were seeing me, you had a girlfriend in North Carolina or something. And I’m the world’s biggest idiot because I’m too busy studying and playing hockey to follow the gossip pages!”
“I’m sorry!”
“Yeah, Jensen, so am I.” She covered her face with her hands and breathed deeply. When she was composed, she let her hands drop away. “Look, I have Orientation tomorrow and I’m tired and sore and all I want right now is to have another shower and go to bed so…”
She picked up her equipment bag and sticks and started to walk away.
“I broke up with her,” he called out.
Martina stopped. “What?” she called out but didn’t turn around.
“Danneel. I broke up with her.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Why?”
Jensen shrugged. “She wasn’t you.”
Martina dropped her bag on the ground and turned around. “She what?”
“She wasn’t you.”
Martina looked away from him. “She wasn’t… Did you even tell her? About me?”
Jensen nodded. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “Yeah I did. And man, she was pissed. But she wanted to, um, fix things I guess.”
“And?”
“And I didn’t,” he answered honestly, slowly stepped once toward her, knowing that if he moved too quickly, she’d shut down and walk away. He had to tread carefully.
She shook her head. He went to move. “No.” She shook her head again. He stayed still. “No! You can’t do that, Jensen!” she called out, her voice wavering.
“Do what?” he asked, cautiously walking towards her.
“You can’t come here, and be all nice and charming and dumping that shit on me, Jensen. You can’t do that,” she complained, wiping at her eyes.
“I didn’t do that.”
“Yeah, you did. And you know you did. Don’t! Don’t do that, Jensen. Don’t make me stop being mad at you. I was really good at being mad at you. If it was an Olympic sport, I would have been on the podium.”
“Yeah. You are good at being mad at me.” He smiled, watching as the tears slid down her cheeks. “But I’m not dumping shit on you. I’m just telling you the truth. I swear it.”
“How do I know that, huh?” she asked, looking up at him as he stood in front of her. “How do I know it’s not just a line?”
“Check the internet.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, cuz wikipedia is never wrong,” she retorted.
Jensen chuckled. “Want to call my publicist? She’ll tell you. The official word is that Jensen Ackles and Danneel Harris broke up as of July 19th, due to mutual agreement. It was an 'amicable split'.” He brandished his phone towards her. “Fuck, call Danneel’s publicist if you want. I’m sure once you tell her who you are, she’ll delight in telling you all the ways in which Danneel broke my shit before mailing it back to me in pieces.”
“You really broke up with her?” she asked, and Jensen stepped forward, nodding. “For me?”
He shook his head, and reached out to cup her cheek. “No. For me, for us. If you’re willing to give me a second chance, that is.”
“Jensen.”
“Marti, I’m serious. Hell, I’m not just serious, I’m begging here. Look I know you okay? And I know what you think about cheaters. I know how you feel about trust, but… Please? Just … give me a second chance. Let me show you you can trust me. Give me a chance to build that trust. C’mon, please?” He cupped her face in his hands, brushing away her tears with his thumbs. Her eyes closed as she nuzzled his skin ever so slightly.
“Why? Why me?” she asked, opening her eyes.
“Because you’re you, Marti. You’re energetic and fun. You’re sarcastically witty. You don’t take shit from anyone and you put people in their place without making them feel two inches tall. You know how to make the best coffee in the world. Seriously, Starbucks could take lessons from you. You’re stubborn and wilful and a little bit kinky. And you didn’t know who the fuck I was when accidentally drenched you in bourbon. Instead of letting me pay for your dry-cleaning, you just drenched me in bourbon so we’d be even.”
She snorted her laughter. “Yeah. Well. It made a great ‘this is how we met’ story.”
“Yeah, it did. Best story of my life, even if I did have to throw out my favourite Armani shirt.” He brushed her long black hair back from her face so he could see into her dark brown eyes. “You don’t care about what the world sees. You care about what I see. You care about me. You didn’t want anything from me except my company, my thoughts…”
She finally offered that wry smile he loved so much. “Well, that’s not true. I wanted in your pants too.”
He chuckled. “Well, yeah, but that was mutual.” Martina put her hands on his and pulled them away from her face. He took heart in that she didn’t drop them altogether, just held them. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Marti. You know what you want, you go after it.”
“Oh c’mon. You know plenty of people like that.”
“You don’t step on people to get what you want.”
She looked him in the eye. “No joy in success when you cause someone else’s pain.”
“Yeah.” He closed his eyes. “Please don’t make me go all Jerry Maguire here.”
She snorted her laughter. “Jen, you didn’t have me at hello.” She sighed deeply. “I need… I need some time. You hurt me, Jensen. And no amount of apologising is going to make that go away overnight.”
“It’s been six weeks.”
“And you lied to me for three months, how ‘bout you cut me some slack here?” she demanded.
“Yeah. Yeah of course. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Martina let go of him and picked up her gear once more. “Listen… I start class next week, so this week I’m mostly working and picking up my books and stuff. I just… maybe we can get together and watch a game or something.”
“Hockey?” he asked, and suddenly he was blinded by a full smile.
“Is there any other sport worth watching?”
He returned her smile. “That’s debatable. We’ve got this weekend off, but I don’t know if I can wait that long. How do you feel about being called at 2am?”
“If you really were learning about hockey, you’d know the season hasn’t started yet.” She smacked his ass with her sticks. “We’ll try the friends thing first, Ackles. Then you can work your way up to a booty call.”
She walked towards her car.
“What if I don’t want a booty call?” Jensen called out. She glanced over her shoulder. “What if I want more?”
“Then you and your right hand better not argue for a while!” she called out as she reached her vehicle and unlocked it. He snorted laughter himself as he made his way to his own car and unlocked the door. She tossed her gear into the trunk of her car and shut the lid. As she unlocked her driver’s door, she turned back to him. “Jensen?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For coming tonight.”
He offered a smile. “I couldn’t stay away.”
She nodded and smiled. “Take care, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said softly as she slid into her truck, shut the door and reversed out of the parking lot. As he got into his land rover, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
Missed u 2 asshole.
He grinned. Everyone deserved a second chance, didn’t they?
Author: magikalrhiannon
Rating: NC-17 for language
Pairing: Jensen/OFC (mentions Jensen/Danneel)
Summary: Jensen did a bad thing. Now he wants a chance to make it up.
Disclaimer: There are not enough words to describe how fake this is. None of it is real, except BC Breakers and Edmonton Chimos are real women’s ice hockey teams, and UBC really are the Thundercats.
Author’s Note: Yeah I don’t know where this came from. Just kinda popped into my head the other night and I wrote it. I’m not posting this for any other reason than I want to and since it’s my journal, you can either read it or just close the window. For caithream for her birthday. Sorry it's not Het PWP, but ... hope you like it anyway.
Jensen drew a deep breath as he pushed open the glass door, nodding awkwardly at the mother and seven-year-old, who he assumed was her daughter, in a sparkling tutu exiting the building and made he way inside. The air conditioning hit his skin and he pulled his jacket tighter around him. He’d forgotten how cold it got inside arenas. He smiled at the kid behind the admission counter as he asked for one ticket into the BC Breakers verses the Edmonton Chimos game.
Tugging on the edge of his beanie, or toque as the Canadians called them, he made his way inside and found a seat somewhere in the middle, where there was no one else sitting. Nervously, he chewed on some gum as he waited for the arena to slowly fill up before the game finally started.
He didn’t know a lot about hockey - not like some of his friends did, Mike Rosenbaum for example, but he knew the rules and he could follow the game. He just didn’t love it like he did football. But the game itself wasn’t why he was there.
He sat up straighter as a whistle and horn blew.
“Goal! Scored by number nine, Martina Everett. Assisted by number ten, Katy Lacasse and number ninety-three, Jennifer Kindret.”
He clapped, inwardly cheering, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face. At intermission, he made his way down to the concession stand and bought a hot coffee. Before the second period started, he bought a second one to take back to his seat.
He didn’t mind hockey. Not really. It was a fun game, when it was fast and furious, each team battling for the puck and turning it over and chasing the opposition to their offensive zone. End-to-end hockey, Mike called it. Jensen didn’t care what it was called. Not when Marti was out on the ice. He couldn’t help but watch her out there. The numbers helped, but he knew her body anywhere. Knew the way she moved, the colour of her hair hanging out the back of her helmet. Knew why she wore the number nine.
She didn’t know he was there. Didn’t know he knew she was back in town. Didn’t know he’d been waiting for her. It wasn’t like they were on speaking terms. His fault, not hers. Jensen sighed as he looked down at his coffee as she took her place on the bench on the other side of the rink. He looked up the moment he felt her eyes on him. He knew he had a deer-stuck-in-headlights look on his face for a moment as she raised a gloved hand in acknowledgement. Shaking himself out of it, he raised a hand and waved before she resumed watching the game, ignoring him once again.
That was enough to kick start the butterflies in the pit of his stomach. He still wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, but he’d been unable to stay away, now that he knew she was in town - better yet, in town for at least nine months. Jensen concentrated on the game, clapping again when Martina scored her second goal of the night.
When the period ended, he kind of hoped that she would come out and see him, at least say something, but she didn’t. Of course she wouldn’t. She was a professional hockey player. It wasn’t like she could just walk around between periods. She had strategy and … things… to discuss with her coach and teammates. She wouldn’t have time to talk to him. Hell, she probably didn’t even want to talk to him. God, he didn’t even know what he was doing there.
Somehow the third period went past his eyes without him realising it. That’s what freaking out did. It made the world fly by without him realising it. He jumped when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out.
Chill the fuck out dude. Can feel u angsting from here.
He sighed, and texted back to Jared, am fine. Shut up.
The phone buzzed again. U seen her yet?
Yes.
How she look?
He paused for a moment. Good. She looks good.
Go get her tiger.
Jensen snorted and put the phone in his pocket. The final buzzer went off, Vancouver’s BC Breakers won 4-2. The players skated off the ice and the crowd made their way to the exit. Jensen just sat there. A cleaner came by, sweeping up the junk people left behind.
“Hey. Game’s over man. Time to go home.”
Jensen looked up. “Uh, yeah, I was waiting for someone.”
“Well you can’t wait here.” He swept up an empty coffee cup. “A player?”
“Huh?”
The cleaner smiled. “You waiting for a player?”
“Oh. Uh, yeah.” Jensen rubbed the back of his neck. God, his fingers were cold.
“They don’t come out the front. They go out the side door. You might wanna wait in the parking lot.”
Jensen nodded. “Okay. Thanks. Good to know.”
He got up and made his way outside. It wasn’t hard to find the side door, and at least the cleaner wasn’t lying when the door opened and players came walking out. A few of them looked him over but none of them stopped, thankfully. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself. It was cold out.
Martina came out the door with another woman, talking about something. She stopped midsentence when she saw him leaning against the hood of a car. He stood upright immediately. Martina’s friend looked between the two of them.
“Uh, yeah, okay, well I’ll call you, Marti,” she said and Martina nodded absently and waved as she slowly walked towards Jensen.
“Hey,” he said, feeling awkward. Not knowing what to do with himself, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“Hey,” she said, her bag falling off her shoulder to the ground. “Um. How are you?”
He shrugged. “I’m okay. You know. Busy, and stuff. Workin’. You know how it is.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I guess I do. What are you doing here?”
Jensen pulled a hand out of his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Uh, I came to see a hockey game.”
Martina stared at him. “You hate hockey.”
“I don’t hate hockey,” he protested.
“Jensen. C’mon.” But she was trying not to smile, not to tease him. He took this as a good thing.
“I’m serious. I’ve been learning.” He smiled. “Go on, ask me something.”
“Who drafted Wayne Gretzky?” she asked.
He opened his mouth to answer and then paused. Shit. “Okay, ask me something anyone should know.”
Martina finally smiled a little and swatted his arm. “Any hockey fan should know that.” He could tell she couldn’t help it when a laugh escaped her mouth.
He joined her laughter and smiled again. “I’ve missed that.”
“What?”
“You laughin’.” Her laughter died off softly and he sighed. “Guess I didn’t give you much of a reason to last time we saw each other.”
She nodded. “Guess not.”
“How was Europe?” he asked tentatively.
“Good. Saw lots of art, visited some amazing places, slept with some amazing guys. It was good.”
Jensen looked down and away. “Guess I deserved that.”
“Guess you did,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.
“I’m sorry, Marti,” he said softly, and looked up at her. “I really am. I just… I have no excuse for what I did.”
“There’s no excuse in the world that’s acceptable, Jensen,” she replied softly.
“I know. But I really am sorry. I lied to you. By omission, but still,” he dragged in a deep breath. “You deserved better than that.”
“Yeah. Yeah I did,” she agreed, and moved closer to lean against the car beside him.
“You looked good out there tonight,” he said, motioning to the rink.
“Thanks.”
“You playing pro now?” he asked, nudging her. She shook her head.
“Nah, just filling in for the tryouts. It was an exhibition game.”
“Oh. I, um, I heard you were playing pro here this season.”
“You shouldn’t always believe what you hear,” she said as she looked away over her shoulder at the sound of a car starting up, and he nodded. “Um, I will be here in Vancouver for a while though. I got into UBC for my masters in Physical Therapy.”
“Oh Marti! That’s fantastic! Congratulations. I-I know you really wanted that,” he said, genuinely happy for her. His first instinct was to reach for her, hug her. His hands itched to move but he fisted his fingers instead and kept them inside his pockets.
“Thanks,” she nodded. “I’m gonna try out for the Thundercats, the women’s team at UBC.”
“So. You’ll be around for a while?”
“Jensen.”
“I was just asking,” he held up his hands in mock surrender.
She sighed. “Yeah. I’ll be around for a while.”
“Maybe… Maybe we could hang out sometime. You know, catch up?” he asked hesitantly.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Why not?” he asked softly.
Martina moved away from the car. “Because Jensen. I just don’t…” she dragged in a deep breath. “God I… I fell in love with you, Jen. And the whole time you were seeing me, you had a girlfriend in North Carolina or something. And I’m the world’s biggest idiot because I’m too busy studying and playing hockey to follow the gossip pages!”
“I’m sorry!”
“Yeah, Jensen, so am I.” She covered her face with her hands and breathed deeply. When she was composed, she let her hands drop away. “Look, I have Orientation tomorrow and I’m tired and sore and all I want right now is to have another shower and go to bed so…”
She picked up her equipment bag and sticks and started to walk away.
“I broke up with her,” he called out.
Martina stopped. “What?” she called out but didn’t turn around.
“Danneel. I broke up with her.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Why?”
Jensen shrugged. “She wasn’t you.”
Martina dropped her bag on the ground and turned around. “She what?”
“She wasn’t you.”
Martina looked away from him. “She wasn’t… Did you even tell her? About me?”
Jensen nodded. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “Yeah I did. And man, she was pissed. But she wanted to, um, fix things I guess.”
“And?”
“And I didn’t,” he answered honestly, slowly stepped once toward her, knowing that if he moved too quickly, she’d shut down and walk away. He had to tread carefully.
She shook her head. He went to move. “No.” She shook her head again. He stayed still. “No! You can’t do that, Jensen!” she called out, her voice wavering.
“Do what?” he asked, cautiously walking towards her.
“You can’t come here, and be all nice and charming and dumping that shit on me, Jensen. You can’t do that,” she complained, wiping at her eyes.
“I didn’t do that.”
“Yeah, you did. And you know you did. Don’t! Don’t do that, Jensen. Don’t make me stop being mad at you. I was really good at being mad at you. If it was an Olympic sport, I would have been on the podium.”
“Yeah. You are good at being mad at me.” He smiled, watching as the tears slid down her cheeks. “But I’m not dumping shit on you. I’m just telling you the truth. I swear it.”
“How do I know that, huh?” she asked, looking up at him as he stood in front of her. “How do I know it’s not just a line?”
“Check the internet.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, cuz wikipedia is never wrong,” she retorted.
Jensen chuckled. “Want to call my publicist? She’ll tell you. The official word is that Jensen Ackles and Danneel Harris broke up as of July 19th, due to mutual agreement. It was an 'amicable split'.” He brandished his phone towards her. “Fuck, call Danneel’s publicist if you want. I’m sure once you tell her who you are, she’ll delight in telling you all the ways in which Danneel broke my shit before mailing it back to me in pieces.”
“You really broke up with her?” she asked, and Jensen stepped forward, nodding. “For me?”
He shook his head, and reached out to cup her cheek. “No. For me, for us. If you’re willing to give me a second chance, that is.”
“Jensen.”
“Marti, I’m serious. Hell, I’m not just serious, I’m begging here. Look I know you okay? And I know what you think about cheaters. I know how you feel about trust, but… Please? Just … give me a second chance. Let me show you you can trust me. Give me a chance to build that trust. C’mon, please?” He cupped her face in his hands, brushing away her tears with his thumbs. Her eyes closed as she nuzzled his skin ever so slightly.
“Why? Why me?” she asked, opening her eyes.
“Because you’re you, Marti. You’re energetic and fun. You’re sarcastically witty. You don’t take shit from anyone and you put people in their place without making them feel two inches tall. You know how to make the best coffee in the world. Seriously, Starbucks could take lessons from you. You’re stubborn and wilful and a little bit kinky. And you didn’t know who the fuck I was when accidentally drenched you in bourbon. Instead of letting me pay for your dry-cleaning, you just drenched me in bourbon so we’d be even.”
She snorted her laughter. “Yeah. Well. It made a great ‘this is how we met’ story.”
“Yeah, it did. Best story of my life, even if I did have to throw out my favourite Armani shirt.” He brushed her long black hair back from her face so he could see into her dark brown eyes. “You don’t care about what the world sees. You care about what I see. You care about me. You didn’t want anything from me except my company, my thoughts…”
She finally offered that wry smile he loved so much. “Well, that’s not true. I wanted in your pants too.”
He chuckled. “Well, yeah, but that was mutual.” Martina put her hands on his and pulled them away from her face. He took heart in that she didn’t drop them altogether, just held them. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Marti. You know what you want, you go after it.”
“Oh c’mon. You know plenty of people like that.”
“You don’t step on people to get what you want.”
She looked him in the eye. “No joy in success when you cause someone else’s pain.”
“Yeah.” He closed his eyes. “Please don’t make me go all Jerry Maguire here.”
She snorted her laughter. “Jen, you didn’t have me at hello.” She sighed deeply. “I need… I need some time. You hurt me, Jensen. And no amount of apologising is going to make that go away overnight.”
“It’s been six weeks.”
“And you lied to me for three months, how ‘bout you cut me some slack here?” she demanded.
“Yeah. Yeah of course. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Martina let go of him and picked up her gear once more. “Listen… I start class next week, so this week I’m mostly working and picking up my books and stuff. I just… maybe we can get together and watch a game or something.”
“Hockey?” he asked, and suddenly he was blinded by a full smile.
“Is there any other sport worth watching?”
He returned her smile. “That’s debatable. We’ve got this weekend off, but I don’t know if I can wait that long. How do you feel about being called at 2am?”
“If you really were learning about hockey, you’d know the season hasn’t started yet.” She smacked his ass with her sticks. “We’ll try the friends thing first, Ackles. Then you can work your way up to a booty call.”
She walked towards her car.
“What if I don’t want a booty call?” Jensen called out. She glanced over her shoulder. “What if I want more?”
“Then you and your right hand better not argue for a while!” she called out as she reached her vehicle and unlocked it. He snorted laughter himself as he made his way to his own car and unlocked the door. She tossed her gear into the trunk of her car and shut the lid. As she unlocked her driver’s door, she turned back to him. “Jensen?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For coming tonight.”
He offered a smile. “I couldn’t stay away.”
She nodded and smiled. “Take care, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said softly as she slid into her truck, shut the door and reversed out of the parking lot. As he got into his land rover, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
Missed u 2 asshole.
He grinned. Everyone deserved a second chance, didn’t they?