I Dream of Jensen (Part One)
Title: I Dream of Jensen
Author: queeberquabbler
Fic Prompt: Disney's Aladdin
Pairing: J2
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for swearing. No warnings otherwise--it's your standard J2 :)
Disclaimer: See Master Post.
Jared Padalecki may be the only person on the planet who enjoys Mondays. When his alarm clock goes off at 4:30 a.m., he springs out of bed, instantly rousing his dogs from their slumber. Sadie whuffs her annoyance, while Harley puts a paw over his eyes. Jared laughs at them both.
“You know the drill, guys. Time to start the day.” He jumps into the bathroom before they get a chance to argue with him. Then he looks at himself in the mirror and recites his weekly motivating phrase:
“New week, fresh start, and endless possibilities!” He musters up a confident smile and does a little dance in his underpants as he heads for the toilet.
Nothing can wreck his mood right now. Not the stale cereal that dulls his taste buds. Not the uprooted sidewalk square he always trips on as he jogs with the dogs, or the pooped-out half of something square-shaped he has to scoop. Not the hot shower water that only lasts one minute before switching to freezing cold. Not the half-eaten bar of soap with the tell-tale canine tooth marks. Not even the dodgy wiring in his little apartment that forces him to try every outlet in the place until he finds the one that will cooperate with the hair dryer this time. At seven a.m. sharp, Jared kisses his babies good-bye and walks out to his car with a whistle and a skip in his step. “T.G.I.M.,” he says as he starts the car, and he backs out of the narrow driveway and zooms down the street.
It starts to rain on route to the train station, but Jared doesn’t mind; he’ll soon be on a cozy seat in one of the passenger cars, and then he’ll catch a cab or a bus to the studios. He pulls into the station’s parking lot, secures his car, and walks to the platform, whistling “Singing in the Rain.” A woman standing next to him looks over, and he gives her a big, dimpled smile. She smiles back, though when Jared begins bouncing on his heels, she moves a step or two over. Jared is blissfully oblivious. The train arrives, and he steps on, finds a free seat, puts his ticket in the holder, and settles in for the hour-long ride.
His chipper thoughts turn to daydreams, as they do every Monday on the train. First he pictures himself walking in and finding Chad Lindberg, his coworker, telling him that he got promoted.
It’s true! Chad smiles in his mind. You’re movin’ on up to the design team! They want you in Wardrobe pronto!
Then Jared pictures himself walking up to the Wardrobe Department, where tiny Sandy gives him a big hug around his waist. Congratulations, Jared! I’m so happy for you! But when Jared asks where she wants him to start working, she points him over to the fitting stand. I have to measure you for your first costume! When Jared frowns, not understanding, she laughs. You didn’t think you were coming up here to work for ME, did you? She laughs again when he nods. NO, silly, you’re in the show! You’re an extra! Now get on the stand and hold still. Oh wait, I need to find my stepstool first…you and your crazy long legs, hee-hee!
And once Jared is dressed in a sharp charcoal suit with a crisp French blue shirt and silver, storm cloud-shaped cufflinks, he reports on set, where Eric K. Sullivan, the show’s creator, head writer, and co-producer, waves him over. Jared, good to see you! Hope you had your coffee this morning, kid, cos we just had a rewrite. You need to memorize these lines pronto. And again Jared is confused-why would an extra need lines? Eric laughs and claps him on the shoulder. Who said you’re an extra? I want to make you part of the cast! Consider this your first run-through. Now in this scene, we’re introducing your character, Malakai. He’s going to be set up as a rival sorcerer to Seth, and he’s all mysterious and secret-y at first, but we’ll find out later he’s a good guy. Get in character-we’ll see you in ten!
Jared nods, and in his mind, he memorizes the script in no time. He takes his place on his mark, and every person on set turns their eyes toward the door as the star enters. Jared’s heart beats faster as the daydream decelerates into slow motion, and the approaching man’s confident walk becomes a cool swagger. Designer duds drape across broad shoulders, down a fit torso, and stop just above an ass so sweet, it belongs in a cookie jar. Jared’s dreamboat smiles, teeth sparkling with silver glints from the stage lights, and his chestnut eyes meet Jared’s adoring hazels.
Hi. I’m David. He extends his hand, and Jared shakes it. It’s really great to meet you, Jared.
You know my name? Jared replies, and David laughs-the most beautiful sound in the world.
Of course! Who do you think pushed the show to get you hired? He winks, and Jared just about melts.
The director comes over and gives them a few last-minute specifics, and then they start filming. Jared is on fire, nailing take after take. David just keeps asking for more, wanting to see everything Jared can do. And when they’re done, everyone applauds as they come over and give him hugs, handshakes, shoulder claps-the works. David remains as everyone leaves, and he smiles so bright that Jared would willingly stare until he’s blinded.
I knew I was right about you, David tells him. Now there’s just one more thing I have to know.
What’s that? Jared asks…and hopes and hopes and hopes.
If you’ll go out to dinner with me tonight? David takes his hand in both of his, tickling Jared’s palm, and he leans in and whispers, Dessert will be on me. Literally.
And Jared gets very warm in his pants. In fact, he gets hot.
Too hot.
Scalding hot!
“OW!” The pain snaps Jared out of his reverie and back into reality, where a very fat man has just shoved into the seat beside him and spilled his coffee on Jared’s lap. He doesn’t apologize. Doesn’t even offer one of the five hundred napkins still scrunched up against the powdered doughnut in his other hand. Jared leans down to grab his backpack, biting the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t whimper from the awful sting, and his elbow smacks the man in his face. Well, actually, it barely touches him at all, but the way the guy overreacts, it might as well have been a face smack.
“Watch it, asshole! Tryin’ t’ eat here!” He shoves Jared against the window and pins him with one meaty arm. Jared isn’t exactly a weakling-far from it, in fact-but most of his good mood is still intact and he doesn’t want to make the start of his day any worse, so he lets the idiot keep him pinned for a few seconds. The man finally snorts and nods a “that’s better” at Jared and lets him go. Jared then digs some Kleenex out of his backpack and soaks up as much of the spilled coffee that he can. The liquid is soon gone, but the stain is huge-and in the worst possible place, of course. He can feel it underneath him as well, so he knows it seeped into the back, too.
Definitely getting a cab, he decides right then and there; he doesn’t need a bus full of people wondering if that’s just spilled coffee or if he needs Depends. The man to his right takes a chomp out of his sugary breakfast, and Jared inches over toward the window to keep the rest of his clothing out of the Powder Spray Zone. Then he puts his ear buds in and drowns out the open-mouth chewing next to him with some happy tunes.
When Jared’s stop finally comes, the man is dozing, and Jared is forced to climb over him. One of his big feet gets caught between the man’s legs, and he trips backward into the aisle-giving everyone waiting for him to move a nice view of his stained backside. Jared slings his pack over his shoulder and avoids all eye contact as he makes his way outside. The rain is now a downpour, and everyone is rushing to the line of waiting cabs. Jared’s long legs carry him to one in no time, but just as he’s about to get in, he hears something drop, followed by a “SHIT!” and a thump. He looks back and finds a young woman picking herself up from where she tripped. Her knee is bleeding badly and has already started to swell, and the box she was carrying is dented from where her arm landed on it. She tries to bend over to grab it, but she’s swaying before she’s halfway down.
“I got it!” Jared grabs the box and hands it to her.
“Thanks,” she replies. Lifting the lid, she does a quick inspection, and from the relief on her face, whatever is in the box survived the impact. Only now does she seem to realize that her knee is effed-up, and she looks down as she puts weight on the leg. She cries out in pain at once.
“You should really get to a hospital before that gets any worse,” Jared tells her, already leading her to the waiting cab.
“You think?” she snaps, but she winces at her own words. “Sorry. Just not having a good morning.”
Jared smiles as he helps her into the back seat. “Well who knows-maybe it’ll turn around now. Just focus on getting better, all right?”
She nods and smiles back. “All right. Thank you!”
The cab heads off, and Jared waves. He looks around and discovers that there are no more cabs. And it’s still downpouring. And he’s soaked through to the skin. Dammit! Guess I have to take the bus after all. He squints through the rain at the bus stop sign ahead-just in time to watch the bus zoom past. DAMMIT! He checks his watch and drops a vocal “DAMmit!” this time: if he waits for the next bus, he’ll be late to work. Lifting his backpack up over his head as a very makeshift, super crummy, almost pointless umbrella, he starts to jog. His former good mood drops another notch with every footfall.
By the time he finally gets to the studios’ gate, his clothing is as heavy and downtrodden as his mood, with saturated sponges for shoes. He sloshes up to the guard in the booth and holds one wet, frozen hand up to display his I.D. The guard smirks but nods him in, and Jared makes his way onto the lot. He’s the only one outside right now, and he’s both grateful (that no one’s around to see him so miserable) and jealous (that he can’t be one of those other people, warm and dry and in a much better mood). As he finally gets to his building, he goes to its far side and slides his I.D. through the slot. The door unlocks, but as he’s about to step inside, he gets pulled instead.
“Dude, you are SO late,” Chad tells him. “Misha’s gonna…” He trails off as he takes in the pitiful sight before him, and his alarmed face turns to one of worry. “Jared…what HAPpened?”
Jared takes a long sniff to back up the pressing snot in his nostrils before he replies, just ‘slightly’ congested, “Gabe away by cab, den bissed da bus. Had to walk here.” He takes off his jacket and rings it out, making a big puddle on the floor. Then he looks at Chad again. “It’s rainding,” he declares.
“You don’t say,” Chad quips, but Jared just answers with another long sniff. Chad hands him the Kleenex box and then turns him around by his shoulders. “We gotta get you out of those clothes before you get pneumonia!”
“Wow, Chad, dibn’t dow you cared.” Jared blows his nose at fog-horn strength and adds, “Oh that’s right, you DON’T care. You just want an excuse to go talk to Sandy.”
“Not true!” Chad suffers a look from Jared. “Okay, sorta true,” he admits. “Seeing her is a bonus, okay? Now come on, before Misha catches you.”
They rush (or in Jared’s case, slush) down the hallway to the wardrobe room. Sandy emerges from behind a rack of dresses, takes one look at Jared, and goes into Mother Hen Mode. “Poor Jared!” she coos as she approaches. “What happened?”
“He had to walk from the station,” Chad fills in for him. “You got anything that would fit him?”
She nods. “Yeah, I think so. Follow me, guys.” They head toward the back of the room, and Sandy calls to her assistant to bring towels. “And get Alona over here too! We need her hair skills like there’s no freaking tomorrow!”
Jared deflates a little at that; he didn’t know he looked THAT bad. He feels that bad, sure, but he was hoping the appearance was better. At least your scalded thighs are nice and cool again! his optimism pipes up, but Jared takes little solace in that fact. His good mood is gone. His hopes, shattered. His best efforts to change things for the better have been wasted, and he already knows this week will be just like all the others: pointless, stressful, and a complete waste of time.
Now now, don’t be like that, inner, optimistic Jared gently scolds him. If you go through life believing nothing good happens, then nothing good WILL ever happen. And that’s not you, Jared, and you know it. Jared shrugs at his own good advice, conceding its point, but not enjoying it. Now give the world that famous smile of yours. Go on…make Alona laugh with it.
Alona has just arrived, and Jared hits her with his happiest, goofiest smile. She cracks up at once. “You’re such a dork, Padalecki,” she giggles. Grabbing his chin with her fingers, she pulls him down to her eyelevel and adds, “Don’t you EVER change.”
And just like that, Jared is back on track. Once he’s warm, dressed in nicer clothes than anything he owns, and his hair is styled to perfection, he gives his friends big bear hugs and promises to bring them coffee and cookies later on.
“We’re holding you to that!” Sandy calls after him, and Jared whirls on the heel of his polished shoe and grins at both girls.
“When have I ever let you down?”
“You want the full tally?” a man’s voice grunts from behind Jared. “Or should I just sum it up for you?” Jared turns to face Misha, Props Master for the show and Jared’s immediate supervisor. Misha is the reigning dead-pan artist on set, but his usual, misleadingly calm demeanor is missing this morning. He looks pissed, blue eyes all glaring in Jared’s general direction. Jared keeps his morning pleasantries bottled up and just nods a simple hello. Misha, despite being shorter than Jared, still manages to somehow tower over him as he declares, “You’re late, Padalecki.”
“I know, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“You know you’re only allowed to be late on days that end in a ‘y’.”
“Yeah, Misha, I know, I’m SORry, but-” Jared pauses as Misha’s words sink in, and both men smile at each other. Chad laughs at them both before he’s called over by Mark, the new Props Master Assistant. He takes off, and Misha waves at Jared to come with him.
“We got a busy day today. The network brass made several last-minute changes to the script, and now we have to completely redo the desert lair.”
“Desert?” Jared repeats. “I thought this week’s ep was about an ice witch?”
“It was, but now we’re going for an Arabian Nights vibe-Boreanaz came up with it.” Misha always makes sure to say the “az” part of the star’s name as “ass,” and Jared bristles but says nothing. “And since not one of those 1,001 nights took place in the Arctic Circle,” Misha goes on to say, “we have to start over and be ready to shoot by tomorrow morning. So drink a gallon of caffeine, kid. It’s another all-nighter.” He claps Jared on the shoulder and shakes it in camaraderie. “But wait, there’s MORE bullshit, ‘cause we’re getting visitors today from Casting. They’re holding more auditions for the Malakai character.”
Jared groans. “Great. Didn’t Eric say that this was the last week we could delay shooting the Malakai intro stuff before we’re over budget?”
“Yeah, he did. And I wouldn’t talk to him today if I were you…” Misha nods at the other side of the room, where their short-statured boss is talking to a small group of network Suits. He’s visibly shaking. “Little stressed out,” Misha whispers in comment.
“Or he’s trying to keep his temper,” Jared whispers back.
“Heh, no shit. First the casting fiasco, and then Borean-ass went over his head-AGAIN-to make the setting changes…” Misha blows out a sigh of sympathy. “Not a happy camper. I’ll make sure to Irish up his coffee later.”
“Hey, your minions could use some love too…”
“Fine, Irished-up coffees all around. Good?”
“Great!”
They move on to the set in progress, where the ice cave that took Paint and Construction a full week to create is now being stripped by the same people. Nearby, the Production Designer is busy discussing new plans with the Construction Coordinator, and Misha tells Jared to “wait here” as he goes off to consult with them. Jared is soon joined by Chad, who hands him a large travel mug of coffee.
“Thanks,” Jared says, blowing the steam from the small sippy opening. The friends watch the hubbub for a few moments before Chad shakes his head.
“It’s so stupid,” he comments. “All that work down the drain just ‘cause Mr. I’m Better Than You had an idea.”
Jared bristles again. “I know you’re not David’s number one fan, but come on-the guy usually has some pretty good ideas for the show. Give credit where credit’s due and all that.”
“Pff. I don’t have to,” Chad scoffs. “If the episode is a huge success, he’ll take ALL the credit, just like he always does. If it’s a failure, he’ll blame everybody else, even though it was all his idea.” He gives Jared a long look. “I know you’ve got a crush on the guy, Jare, but you don’t have come to his defense every time. Face it, the guy’s a dick!”
“No he isn’t!” Jared folds his arms and stands tall. “And for the record, I do NOT have a crush on him.”
Chad chuckles. “Riiiiight. So you don’t care at all that he just walked in.”
“Really? WHERE?!” Jared’s eyes dart around the room, and Chad chuckles again. Jared glares at Chad.
“Yeah, your Mean Look doesn’t really work when you’re blushing,” Chad says. Jared steps down hard on Chad’s foot in retaliation. Misha comes back while Chad is still hopping, and he just stares at the assistant for a few moments. Chad starts to slow down, but Misha smiles.
“No, please, keep jumping, Chad. Then maybe I’ll get rid of my rabbit’s foot and chop off one of your feet instead.” Chad stops at once, glaring at Jared with all he’s worth, but Jared keeps his face blank and eyes trained on Misha, until the Props Master finally chuckles. “Nah, that’s crazy talk. Like Chad’s foot would really fit on a keychain.” He shakes his head at the dark and silly and so very Misha notion, and then hands both PAs a clipboard. “This is what we have to get ready. It’s mostly weapons and scene setters. My stuff is in blue, and I’ll be working on it with Mark. Lindberg, you get started on everything highlighted in yellow. Padalecki, go to the bins and find as many things highlighted in green as you can. If you’re missing something, let me know right away. We’ll have to make anything we don’t have and order anything we can’t make.”
Chad and Jared “yes sir” and head back to the work room at once. Although both are basically gophers for the Props Department, Chad has a lot more experience than Jared, so his official job title is Props Master Assistant’s Assistant. In layman’s terms, that means he gets to build props, not just fetch them. And he always finds some way to work in a reminder to Jared at the start of every week. That’s why Jared isn’t at all surprised when Chad swipes Jared’s list and looks it over.
“Huh. Wonder why they want you to find all this stuff when I could just build it.”
Jared grabs his list back. “Probably because they want the props to last, not fall apart in the middle of the scene like your stuff does.”
“Funny, Jared. So funny.” Chad sits down at his bench, and Jared moves past him to the wall of plastic bins. He grabs the Master List from the wall and starts paging through it, hoping the majority of items he needs will be right there for the taking.
Several hours later, both guys are more than ready for a break. Chad has been struggling with a scimitar for hours-not the blade itself, but the hilt that refuses to look like it’s been buried in searing-hot sand for a millennium, no matter what Chad does to it. Jared is just as frustrated. Chris, their temp-for-hire that lasted a whopping three days last week had one simple job: to file the props from last week’s set into their appropriate, listed bins. Instead, it looks like the idiot just threw whatever he had into whatever bin he felt like. Nothing is where it is supposed to be, and Jared has spent more time putting objects away than he has taking them out. It’s now lunch time, and he’s only found four items on his list.
“Misha’s gonna be pissed,” Jared murmurs. “Really pissed, not just pretend-pissed.”
Chad nods and stretches his arms. “I know. We should get lunch before he starts today’s bitch fest.”
Jared stands up and says, “I’ll go. It’s my turn anyway. What you want, the usual?”
“Yeah. Bring some caffeine, too. I’m gonna need it.”
Jared waves that he heard him as he heads out the door. He takes a quick look around to make sure that Misha isn’t there, and then he hurries down the corridor to his left. At the end of it is the cafeteria, which is really just a room where Craft Services sets up, and a lot of the crew is already there, either in line or eating at one of the long tables. Jared does another check for Misha before he takes his place in line. He remembers he owes Alona and Sandy coffee and cookies, so he grabs a tray for the beverages and makes a mental note to get the food in carry-out boxes.
And that’s when he hears a familiar, wonderful voice, and Jared goes weak at the knees.
“A one-day delay in shooting isn’t going to kill us, guys. I know it. You know it.”
Jared glances over his shoulder, trying to play it as cool and nonchalant as possible, even though every part of him wants to jump up and down like some crazy fan. David Boreanaz is indeed right behind him, surrounded by a gaggle of people miles above Jared’s pay grade. “The studio is threatening to cut our budget even more if you keep this up,” one of the Suits argues. “They’re sick of these stunts of yours, David, and frankly, so are we.”
“So a burst of inspiration is called a ‘stunt’ these days,” David chuckles, sounding bitter. “That’s just great.”
Jared keeps moving along the catering table as his ears remain fixed on the heated discussion behind him. “Your bursts of inspiration cost a hell of a lot more than anything coming from the seasoned writers,” the same man barks back. “Why couldn’t this desert episode of yours waited until later in the season?”
“Because I said so,” David responds. Jared hears the woman in front of him mutter, “Give me a break,” but Jared ignores it: He’s proud of David for standing up for a show he believes in. But the Suits all seem to agree with the woman, and the bold man actually laughs at the star.
“Believe it or not, you’re not the only person on this show, David. The hundreds of people on our crew are not exactly happy about having to redo what they worked so hard to create, just because you said so.” The other Suits sound their agreement, and the man clears his throat. “Face it, David-this time, you’ve gone too far. If you’re really sold on this idea of yours, we’ll fit it in for a future shoot, but for now-”
Jared feels a breeze on his back, and the Suit abruptly shuts up. Jared chances another glance over his shoulder to find out why. David has whipped around and is now up in the man’s face. He doesn’t look mad, just impatient. “Have I ever let you down before?” he asks.
“No, but-”
“Then what makes you think that this time will be any different?” David smiles at the Suits when they all look at each other with doubt. “Guys, come on! I BUILT this show, remember? We’re the top-rated genre show in the country, and we win our timeslot every week. NONE of that will change just because I want to take the episode in a different direction.”
“But-!”
“But nothing!” David laughs, playfully jostling the man by his shoulders. “Relax, all right? We’ll get it done. We have the best cast and crew around!” Then David turns his grin to Jared, who might as well be a statue, he’s so stunned. “Like my main man…” David glances at Jared’s I.D. badge. “…Jared here. You’re not nervous about the changes to this week’s shoot, right?”
“No, not at all!” Jared replies, a little more perky and a lot more loudly than he intended.
“All right!” David shouts right back, feeding off Jared’s positive energy. “What department are you in?”
“Props!” he chirps, but when he gets a few funny eyebrows in reply, he clears his throat and drops his voice. “I-I’m a production assistant in, uh…in props.”
David claps him on the back. “There, y’see?” he says to the suits. “If Props isn’t worried, no one is. Now you guys run along and tell the network that everything will be fine.” He twirls the snake ring on his finger-a nervous tic that Jared finds adorable-and leans into the head Suit’s face again. “Say it with me: everything…”
“Everything will be fine,” they all chime in, though their faces are blank instead of happy, like David’s is.
“Fantastic. I’ll see you all after lunch.”
By now, Jared has grabbed Chad’s usual, ready-made sandwich and is busy making himself a few tacos when David walks up to him again. “Man, those guys can be annoying,” David admits with a light laugh. “Talk about sticks in the mud.”
That’s ‘cause Money doesn’t have any artistic vision, Jared thinks. David laughs hard, and Jared’s heart leaps into his throat as he realizes he said that aloud.
“Sad but true. Hey,” David grabs Jared’s arm as Jared gets to the end of the catering table. “Come have lunch with me, Jerry.”
Jared’s biggest, dimpliest smile opens up, and he doesn’t even bother to correct his crush on getting his name wrong. Instead, he just follows David out to his trailer. Oh my God, I’m going in the trailer, oh my God, oh my GOD! he wants to shout, but he hides it all behind another smile as David holds the door open for him and gestures to walk inside. Jared steps in and looks around. He’s dreamt of being in here so many times, and it looks exactly as he expected it to-and nothing like it at all. The giant TV and plush leather sofa are there, sure, but the bar disguised as some sort of gothic altar? That’s different.
“Sit down,” David tells Jared as he takes his own seat at a small table. The top is a slab of what appears to be ancient stone etched with runes, but David covers it with a table cloth before Jared gets a chance to take a closer look. Pulling out one of the high-backed chairs, Jared sits down across from the star and sets the tray a little to the side. David points to all the steaming travel mugs. “You really thirsty, or just really, really tired?”
“Huh? Oh! No, I’m on a coffee run for some of my coworkers.”
“Well I won’t keep you long.”
“No, you can keep me!” Jared’s face turns read as David smirks. “I-I mean…I’m not in any hurry. Is it cool if I stay?”
“Yeah!” David replies. “Sure. In fact, maybe you can help me with something.”
His dirty thoughts immediately hope it involves helping David into something a little more comfortable, but Jared has embarrassed himself enough for one day. He takes a calming breath and says, “Yeah, I’ll try. What is it?”
David gets up and moves into the chair next to Jared. “Well, I need to find somebody, and he works in your department, only I don’t know his name-just his initials.”
Jared shrugs. “Well I know everybody in Props. What are the initials?”
“J.P.”
Jared grins. “You found him,” he replies. “Me, I mean. That’s me. Jared Padalecki. J.P.”
Now David grins. “How’s that for a coincidence!” he laughs. “Wow, thanks for making my life a little easier, Jared.”
“So why did you need to find me?”
“Well, you know how I had this awesome idea for this week’s episode?” David leads, and Jared nods. “The thing is, I didn’t just have an idea for the episode, but a big idea for the whole season. A HUGE twist that nobody’s gonna see coming, and the first step toward that twist has to happen with this episode.”
Jared’s imagination starts spinning-he LOVES talking plot almost as much as acting itself. “Does it involve the new Malakai character?”
David grits his teeth, his happy face clouding for a moment, before he shakes his head. “No, Malakai is Eric’s creation. This idea is all mine.”
“Then I already know it will be great!” Jared beams. He knows it sounds like ass-kissing. He also doesn’t care. David smiles, and Jared reciprocates.
“Thanks, man, seriously,” David returns. “That means a lot.” Jared just shrugs, and David splays his fingers out, like he’s about to introduce something amazing. “Now I wanted to surprise everyone this morning by bringing in a key prop from the warehouse, but the security guard said that only certain personnel have clearance to go inside. He gave me your initials, and here we are.” Scooting even closer, David twirls his ring before he takes Jared’s hand in both of his, and Jared prays that he can’t feel him trembling. David looks him in the eyes and asks, “Do you think you could get that prop for me, Jared? You’d really be helping me out.”
Jared gives a slow blink, mesmerized by the fire in David’s eyes, his simple request-the pure rapture of the moment! Until he realizes that he hasn’t replied yet, and the rapture is replaced by humiliation. “Yeah. Y-yes! Of course! I can go right now if you want! Well,” Jared nods to his tray, “after I make my deliveries. But that’ll only take a minute, and then I’ll run over and get it!”
David suns him with a warm smile, and he squeezes Jared’s hand. “Thanks. I really, REALLY appreciate this. Oh, but you gotta keep it a secret, all right? I don’t want anyone spoiling the surprise. Can I trust you?”
“Absolutely,” Jared breathes. “You don’t even have to tell me all the details, just let me know what you want, and I’ll find it.”
“Good. Very good.” David leans away, looks back and forth, and then leans back in, wagging a finger for Jared to do the same. “I need you,” David whispers, “to get me a genie lamp.”
“A genie lamp?” Jared whispers back. “Why a genie lamp?”
David pushes back. “Ah ah ah, you just said I didn’t have to tell you any details.”
“Sorry,” Jared blushes. “So, where should I bring it? Back to set, or…”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’m just about to head off to make-up, so bring it straight to me. And HIDE it, all right? I don’t want anyone to see it, because then they’ll start wondering why you have it and why I want it. They’ll find out in due time.” He winks at Jared, who blushes again. David stands up, and Jared follows, though his jellied knees hit the table legs. David pretends not to notice, and Jared loves him even more. He grabs the tray and heads to the door.
“Is there anything else you want me to get while I’m there?” Jared asks.
“No, nothing else, just the lamp.” David gives Jared’s shoulder a squeeze. “See you soon.”
And Jared has to make sure his feet are touching the ground; he’s so light that he’s sure he’s floating.
On to Part Two
Master Post
Author: queeberquabbler
Fic Prompt: Disney's Aladdin
Pairing: J2
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for swearing. No warnings otherwise--it's your standard J2 :)
Disclaimer: See Master Post.
Jared Padalecki may be the only person on the planet who enjoys Mondays. When his alarm clock goes off at 4:30 a.m., he springs out of bed, instantly rousing his dogs from their slumber. Sadie whuffs her annoyance, while Harley puts a paw over his eyes. Jared laughs at them both.
“You know the drill, guys. Time to start the day.” He jumps into the bathroom before they get a chance to argue with him. Then he looks at himself in the mirror and recites his weekly motivating phrase:
“New week, fresh start, and endless possibilities!” He musters up a confident smile and does a little dance in his underpants as he heads for the toilet.
Nothing can wreck his mood right now. Not the stale cereal that dulls his taste buds. Not the uprooted sidewalk square he always trips on as he jogs with the dogs, or the pooped-out half of something square-shaped he has to scoop. Not the hot shower water that only lasts one minute before switching to freezing cold. Not the half-eaten bar of soap with the tell-tale canine tooth marks. Not even the dodgy wiring in his little apartment that forces him to try every outlet in the place until he finds the one that will cooperate with the hair dryer this time. At seven a.m. sharp, Jared kisses his babies good-bye and walks out to his car with a whistle and a skip in his step. “T.G.I.M.,” he says as he starts the car, and he backs out of the narrow driveway and zooms down the street.
It starts to rain on route to the train station, but Jared doesn’t mind; he’ll soon be on a cozy seat in one of the passenger cars, and then he’ll catch a cab or a bus to the studios. He pulls into the station’s parking lot, secures his car, and walks to the platform, whistling “Singing in the Rain.” A woman standing next to him looks over, and he gives her a big, dimpled smile. She smiles back, though when Jared begins bouncing on his heels, she moves a step or two over. Jared is blissfully oblivious. The train arrives, and he steps on, finds a free seat, puts his ticket in the holder, and settles in for the hour-long ride.
His chipper thoughts turn to daydreams, as they do every Monday on the train. First he pictures himself walking in and finding Chad Lindberg, his coworker, telling him that he got promoted.
It’s true! Chad smiles in his mind. You’re movin’ on up to the design team! They want you in Wardrobe pronto!
Then Jared pictures himself walking up to the Wardrobe Department, where tiny Sandy gives him a big hug around his waist. Congratulations, Jared! I’m so happy for you! But when Jared asks where she wants him to start working, she points him over to the fitting stand. I have to measure you for your first costume! When Jared frowns, not understanding, she laughs. You didn’t think you were coming up here to work for ME, did you? She laughs again when he nods. NO, silly, you’re in the show! You’re an extra! Now get on the stand and hold still. Oh wait, I need to find my stepstool first…you and your crazy long legs, hee-hee!
And once Jared is dressed in a sharp charcoal suit with a crisp French blue shirt and silver, storm cloud-shaped cufflinks, he reports on set, where Eric K. Sullivan, the show’s creator, head writer, and co-producer, waves him over. Jared, good to see you! Hope you had your coffee this morning, kid, cos we just had a rewrite. You need to memorize these lines pronto. And again Jared is confused-why would an extra need lines? Eric laughs and claps him on the shoulder. Who said you’re an extra? I want to make you part of the cast! Consider this your first run-through. Now in this scene, we’re introducing your character, Malakai. He’s going to be set up as a rival sorcerer to Seth, and he’s all mysterious and secret-y at first, but we’ll find out later he’s a good guy. Get in character-we’ll see you in ten!
Jared nods, and in his mind, he memorizes the script in no time. He takes his place on his mark, and every person on set turns their eyes toward the door as the star enters. Jared’s heart beats faster as the daydream decelerates into slow motion, and the approaching man’s confident walk becomes a cool swagger. Designer duds drape across broad shoulders, down a fit torso, and stop just above an ass so sweet, it belongs in a cookie jar. Jared’s dreamboat smiles, teeth sparkling with silver glints from the stage lights, and his chestnut eyes meet Jared’s adoring hazels.
Hi. I’m David. He extends his hand, and Jared shakes it. It’s really great to meet you, Jared.
You know my name? Jared replies, and David laughs-the most beautiful sound in the world.
Of course! Who do you think pushed the show to get you hired? He winks, and Jared just about melts.
The director comes over and gives them a few last-minute specifics, and then they start filming. Jared is on fire, nailing take after take. David just keeps asking for more, wanting to see everything Jared can do. And when they’re done, everyone applauds as they come over and give him hugs, handshakes, shoulder claps-the works. David remains as everyone leaves, and he smiles so bright that Jared would willingly stare until he’s blinded.
I knew I was right about you, David tells him. Now there’s just one more thing I have to know.
What’s that? Jared asks…and hopes and hopes and hopes.
If you’ll go out to dinner with me tonight? David takes his hand in both of his, tickling Jared’s palm, and he leans in and whispers, Dessert will be on me. Literally.
And Jared gets very warm in his pants. In fact, he gets hot.
Too hot.
Scalding hot!
“OW!” The pain snaps Jared out of his reverie and back into reality, where a very fat man has just shoved into the seat beside him and spilled his coffee on Jared’s lap. He doesn’t apologize. Doesn’t even offer one of the five hundred napkins still scrunched up against the powdered doughnut in his other hand. Jared leans down to grab his backpack, biting the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t whimper from the awful sting, and his elbow smacks the man in his face. Well, actually, it barely touches him at all, but the way the guy overreacts, it might as well have been a face smack.
“Watch it, asshole! Tryin’ t’ eat here!” He shoves Jared against the window and pins him with one meaty arm. Jared isn’t exactly a weakling-far from it, in fact-but most of his good mood is still intact and he doesn’t want to make the start of his day any worse, so he lets the idiot keep him pinned for a few seconds. The man finally snorts and nods a “that’s better” at Jared and lets him go. Jared then digs some Kleenex out of his backpack and soaks up as much of the spilled coffee that he can. The liquid is soon gone, but the stain is huge-and in the worst possible place, of course. He can feel it underneath him as well, so he knows it seeped into the back, too.
Definitely getting a cab, he decides right then and there; he doesn’t need a bus full of people wondering if that’s just spilled coffee or if he needs Depends. The man to his right takes a chomp out of his sugary breakfast, and Jared inches over toward the window to keep the rest of his clothing out of the Powder Spray Zone. Then he puts his ear buds in and drowns out the open-mouth chewing next to him with some happy tunes.
When Jared’s stop finally comes, the man is dozing, and Jared is forced to climb over him. One of his big feet gets caught between the man’s legs, and he trips backward into the aisle-giving everyone waiting for him to move a nice view of his stained backside. Jared slings his pack over his shoulder and avoids all eye contact as he makes his way outside. The rain is now a downpour, and everyone is rushing to the line of waiting cabs. Jared’s long legs carry him to one in no time, but just as he’s about to get in, he hears something drop, followed by a “SHIT!” and a thump. He looks back and finds a young woman picking herself up from where she tripped. Her knee is bleeding badly and has already started to swell, and the box she was carrying is dented from where her arm landed on it. She tries to bend over to grab it, but she’s swaying before she’s halfway down.
“I got it!” Jared grabs the box and hands it to her.
“Thanks,” she replies. Lifting the lid, she does a quick inspection, and from the relief on her face, whatever is in the box survived the impact. Only now does she seem to realize that her knee is effed-up, and she looks down as she puts weight on the leg. She cries out in pain at once.
“You should really get to a hospital before that gets any worse,” Jared tells her, already leading her to the waiting cab.
“You think?” she snaps, but she winces at her own words. “Sorry. Just not having a good morning.”
Jared smiles as he helps her into the back seat. “Well who knows-maybe it’ll turn around now. Just focus on getting better, all right?”
She nods and smiles back. “All right. Thank you!”
The cab heads off, and Jared waves. He looks around and discovers that there are no more cabs. And it’s still downpouring. And he’s soaked through to the skin. Dammit! Guess I have to take the bus after all. He squints through the rain at the bus stop sign ahead-just in time to watch the bus zoom past. DAMMIT! He checks his watch and drops a vocal “DAMmit!” this time: if he waits for the next bus, he’ll be late to work. Lifting his backpack up over his head as a very makeshift, super crummy, almost pointless umbrella, he starts to jog. His former good mood drops another notch with every footfall.
By the time he finally gets to the studios’ gate, his clothing is as heavy and downtrodden as his mood, with saturated sponges for shoes. He sloshes up to the guard in the booth and holds one wet, frozen hand up to display his I.D. The guard smirks but nods him in, and Jared makes his way onto the lot. He’s the only one outside right now, and he’s both grateful (that no one’s around to see him so miserable) and jealous (that he can’t be one of those other people, warm and dry and in a much better mood). As he finally gets to his building, he goes to its far side and slides his I.D. through the slot. The door unlocks, but as he’s about to step inside, he gets pulled instead.
“Dude, you are SO late,” Chad tells him. “Misha’s gonna…” He trails off as he takes in the pitiful sight before him, and his alarmed face turns to one of worry. “Jared…what HAPpened?”
Jared takes a long sniff to back up the pressing snot in his nostrils before he replies, just ‘slightly’ congested, “Gabe away by cab, den bissed da bus. Had to walk here.” He takes off his jacket and rings it out, making a big puddle on the floor. Then he looks at Chad again. “It’s rainding,” he declares.
“You don’t say,” Chad quips, but Jared just answers with another long sniff. Chad hands him the Kleenex box and then turns him around by his shoulders. “We gotta get you out of those clothes before you get pneumonia!”
“Wow, Chad, dibn’t dow you cared.” Jared blows his nose at fog-horn strength and adds, “Oh that’s right, you DON’T care. You just want an excuse to go talk to Sandy.”
“Not true!” Chad suffers a look from Jared. “Okay, sorta true,” he admits. “Seeing her is a bonus, okay? Now come on, before Misha catches you.”
They rush (or in Jared’s case, slush) down the hallway to the wardrobe room. Sandy emerges from behind a rack of dresses, takes one look at Jared, and goes into Mother Hen Mode. “Poor Jared!” she coos as she approaches. “What happened?”
“He had to walk from the station,” Chad fills in for him. “You got anything that would fit him?”
She nods. “Yeah, I think so. Follow me, guys.” They head toward the back of the room, and Sandy calls to her assistant to bring towels. “And get Alona over here too! We need her hair skills like there’s no freaking tomorrow!”
Jared deflates a little at that; he didn’t know he looked THAT bad. He feels that bad, sure, but he was hoping the appearance was better. At least your scalded thighs are nice and cool again! his optimism pipes up, but Jared takes little solace in that fact. His good mood is gone. His hopes, shattered. His best efforts to change things for the better have been wasted, and he already knows this week will be just like all the others: pointless, stressful, and a complete waste of time.
Now now, don’t be like that, inner, optimistic Jared gently scolds him. If you go through life believing nothing good happens, then nothing good WILL ever happen. And that’s not you, Jared, and you know it. Jared shrugs at his own good advice, conceding its point, but not enjoying it. Now give the world that famous smile of yours. Go on…make Alona laugh with it.
Alona has just arrived, and Jared hits her with his happiest, goofiest smile. She cracks up at once. “You’re such a dork, Padalecki,” she giggles. Grabbing his chin with her fingers, she pulls him down to her eyelevel and adds, “Don’t you EVER change.”
And just like that, Jared is back on track. Once he’s warm, dressed in nicer clothes than anything he owns, and his hair is styled to perfection, he gives his friends big bear hugs and promises to bring them coffee and cookies later on.
“We’re holding you to that!” Sandy calls after him, and Jared whirls on the heel of his polished shoe and grins at both girls.
“When have I ever let you down?”
“You want the full tally?” a man’s voice grunts from behind Jared. “Or should I just sum it up for you?” Jared turns to face Misha, Props Master for the show and Jared’s immediate supervisor. Misha is the reigning dead-pan artist on set, but his usual, misleadingly calm demeanor is missing this morning. He looks pissed, blue eyes all glaring in Jared’s general direction. Jared keeps his morning pleasantries bottled up and just nods a simple hello. Misha, despite being shorter than Jared, still manages to somehow tower over him as he declares, “You’re late, Padalecki.”
“I know, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“You know you’re only allowed to be late on days that end in a ‘y’.”
“Yeah, Misha, I know, I’m SORry, but-” Jared pauses as Misha’s words sink in, and both men smile at each other. Chad laughs at them both before he’s called over by Mark, the new Props Master Assistant. He takes off, and Misha waves at Jared to come with him.
“We got a busy day today. The network brass made several last-minute changes to the script, and now we have to completely redo the desert lair.”
“Desert?” Jared repeats. “I thought this week’s ep was about an ice witch?”
“It was, but now we’re going for an Arabian Nights vibe-Boreanaz came up with it.” Misha always makes sure to say the “az” part of the star’s name as “ass,” and Jared bristles but says nothing. “And since not one of those 1,001 nights took place in the Arctic Circle,” Misha goes on to say, “we have to start over and be ready to shoot by tomorrow morning. So drink a gallon of caffeine, kid. It’s another all-nighter.” He claps Jared on the shoulder and shakes it in camaraderie. “But wait, there’s MORE bullshit, ‘cause we’re getting visitors today from Casting. They’re holding more auditions for the Malakai character.”
Jared groans. “Great. Didn’t Eric say that this was the last week we could delay shooting the Malakai intro stuff before we’re over budget?”
“Yeah, he did. And I wouldn’t talk to him today if I were you…” Misha nods at the other side of the room, where their short-statured boss is talking to a small group of network Suits. He’s visibly shaking. “Little stressed out,” Misha whispers in comment.
“Or he’s trying to keep his temper,” Jared whispers back.
“Heh, no shit. First the casting fiasco, and then Borean-ass went over his head-AGAIN-to make the setting changes…” Misha blows out a sigh of sympathy. “Not a happy camper. I’ll make sure to Irish up his coffee later.”
“Hey, your minions could use some love too…”
“Fine, Irished-up coffees all around. Good?”
“Great!”
They move on to the set in progress, where the ice cave that took Paint and Construction a full week to create is now being stripped by the same people. Nearby, the Production Designer is busy discussing new plans with the Construction Coordinator, and Misha tells Jared to “wait here” as he goes off to consult with them. Jared is soon joined by Chad, who hands him a large travel mug of coffee.
“Thanks,” Jared says, blowing the steam from the small sippy opening. The friends watch the hubbub for a few moments before Chad shakes his head.
“It’s so stupid,” he comments. “All that work down the drain just ‘cause Mr. I’m Better Than You had an idea.”
Jared bristles again. “I know you’re not David’s number one fan, but come on-the guy usually has some pretty good ideas for the show. Give credit where credit’s due and all that.”
“Pff. I don’t have to,” Chad scoffs. “If the episode is a huge success, he’ll take ALL the credit, just like he always does. If it’s a failure, he’ll blame everybody else, even though it was all his idea.” He gives Jared a long look. “I know you’ve got a crush on the guy, Jare, but you don’t have come to his defense every time. Face it, the guy’s a dick!”
“No he isn’t!” Jared folds his arms and stands tall. “And for the record, I do NOT have a crush on him.”
Chad chuckles. “Riiiiight. So you don’t care at all that he just walked in.”
“Really? WHERE?!” Jared’s eyes dart around the room, and Chad chuckles again. Jared glares at Chad.
“Yeah, your Mean Look doesn’t really work when you’re blushing,” Chad says. Jared steps down hard on Chad’s foot in retaliation. Misha comes back while Chad is still hopping, and he just stares at the assistant for a few moments. Chad starts to slow down, but Misha smiles.
“No, please, keep jumping, Chad. Then maybe I’ll get rid of my rabbit’s foot and chop off one of your feet instead.” Chad stops at once, glaring at Jared with all he’s worth, but Jared keeps his face blank and eyes trained on Misha, until the Props Master finally chuckles. “Nah, that’s crazy talk. Like Chad’s foot would really fit on a keychain.” He shakes his head at the dark and silly and so very Misha notion, and then hands both PAs a clipboard. “This is what we have to get ready. It’s mostly weapons and scene setters. My stuff is in blue, and I’ll be working on it with Mark. Lindberg, you get started on everything highlighted in yellow. Padalecki, go to the bins and find as many things highlighted in green as you can. If you’re missing something, let me know right away. We’ll have to make anything we don’t have and order anything we can’t make.”
Chad and Jared “yes sir” and head back to the work room at once. Although both are basically gophers for the Props Department, Chad has a lot more experience than Jared, so his official job title is Props Master Assistant’s Assistant. In layman’s terms, that means he gets to build props, not just fetch them. And he always finds some way to work in a reminder to Jared at the start of every week. That’s why Jared isn’t at all surprised when Chad swipes Jared’s list and looks it over.
“Huh. Wonder why they want you to find all this stuff when I could just build it.”
Jared grabs his list back. “Probably because they want the props to last, not fall apart in the middle of the scene like your stuff does.”
“Funny, Jared. So funny.” Chad sits down at his bench, and Jared moves past him to the wall of plastic bins. He grabs the Master List from the wall and starts paging through it, hoping the majority of items he needs will be right there for the taking.
Several hours later, both guys are more than ready for a break. Chad has been struggling with a scimitar for hours-not the blade itself, but the hilt that refuses to look like it’s been buried in searing-hot sand for a millennium, no matter what Chad does to it. Jared is just as frustrated. Chris, their temp-for-hire that lasted a whopping three days last week had one simple job: to file the props from last week’s set into their appropriate, listed bins. Instead, it looks like the idiot just threw whatever he had into whatever bin he felt like. Nothing is where it is supposed to be, and Jared has spent more time putting objects away than he has taking them out. It’s now lunch time, and he’s only found four items on his list.
“Misha’s gonna be pissed,” Jared murmurs. “Really pissed, not just pretend-pissed.”
Chad nods and stretches his arms. “I know. We should get lunch before he starts today’s bitch fest.”
Jared stands up and says, “I’ll go. It’s my turn anyway. What you want, the usual?”
“Yeah. Bring some caffeine, too. I’m gonna need it.”
Jared waves that he heard him as he heads out the door. He takes a quick look around to make sure that Misha isn’t there, and then he hurries down the corridor to his left. At the end of it is the cafeteria, which is really just a room where Craft Services sets up, and a lot of the crew is already there, either in line or eating at one of the long tables. Jared does another check for Misha before he takes his place in line. He remembers he owes Alona and Sandy coffee and cookies, so he grabs a tray for the beverages and makes a mental note to get the food in carry-out boxes.
And that’s when he hears a familiar, wonderful voice, and Jared goes weak at the knees.
“A one-day delay in shooting isn’t going to kill us, guys. I know it. You know it.”
Jared glances over his shoulder, trying to play it as cool and nonchalant as possible, even though every part of him wants to jump up and down like some crazy fan. David Boreanaz is indeed right behind him, surrounded by a gaggle of people miles above Jared’s pay grade. “The studio is threatening to cut our budget even more if you keep this up,” one of the Suits argues. “They’re sick of these stunts of yours, David, and frankly, so are we.”
“So a burst of inspiration is called a ‘stunt’ these days,” David chuckles, sounding bitter. “That’s just great.”
Jared keeps moving along the catering table as his ears remain fixed on the heated discussion behind him. “Your bursts of inspiration cost a hell of a lot more than anything coming from the seasoned writers,” the same man barks back. “Why couldn’t this desert episode of yours waited until later in the season?”
“Because I said so,” David responds. Jared hears the woman in front of him mutter, “Give me a break,” but Jared ignores it: He’s proud of David for standing up for a show he believes in. But the Suits all seem to agree with the woman, and the bold man actually laughs at the star.
“Believe it or not, you’re not the only person on this show, David. The hundreds of people on our crew are not exactly happy about having to redo what they worked so hard to create, just because you said so.” The other Suits sound their agreement, and the man clears his throat. “Face it, David-this time, you’ve gone too far. If you’re really sold on this idea of yours, we’ll fit it in for a future shoot, but for now-”
Jared feels a breeze on his back, and the Suit abruptly shuts up. Jared chances another glance over his shoulder to find out why. David has whipped around and is now up in the man’s face. He doesn’t look mad, just impatient. “Have I ever let you down before?” he asks.
“No, but-”
“Then what makes you think that this time will be any different?” David smiles at the Suits when they all look at each other with doubt. “Guys, come on! I BUILT this show, remember? We’re the top-rated genre show in the country, and we win our timeslot every week. NONE of that will change just because I want to take the episode in a different direction.”
“But-!”
“But nothing!” David laughs, playfully jostling the man by his shoulders. “Relax, all right? We’ll get it done. We have the best cast and crew around!” Then David turns his grin to Jared, who might as well be a statue, he’s so stunned. “Like my main man…” David glances at Jared’s I.D. badge. “…Jared here. You’re not nervous about the changes to this week’s shoot, right?”
“No, not at all!” Jared replies, a little more perky and a lot more loudly than he intended.
“All right!” David shouts right back, feeding off Jared’s positive energy. “What department are you in?”
“Props!” he chirps, but when he gets a few funny eyebrows in reply, he clears his throat and drops his voice. “I-I’m a production assistant in, uh…in props.”
David claps him on the back. “There, y’see?” he says to the suits. “If Props isn’t worried, no one is. Now you guys run along and tell the network that everything will be fine.” He twirls the snake ring on his finger-a nervous tic that Jared finds adorable-and leans into the head Suit’s face again. “Say it with me: everything…”
“Everything will be fine,” they all chime in, though their faces are blank instead of happy, like David’s is.
“Fantastic. I’ll see you all after lunch.”
By now, Jared has grabbed Chad’s usual, ready-made sandwich and is busy making himself a few tacos when David walks up to him again. “Man, those guys can be annoying,” David admits with a light laugh. “Talk about sticks in the mud.”
That’s ‘cause Money doesn’t have any artistic vision, Jared thinks. David laughs hard, and Jared’s heart leaps into his throat as he realizes he said that aloud.
“Sad but true. Hey,” David grabs Jared’s arm as Jared gets to the end of the catering table. “Come have lunch with me, Jerry.”
Jared’s biggest, dimpliest smile opens up, and he doesn’t even bother to correct his crush on getting his name wrong. Instead, he just follows David out to his trailer. Oh my God, I’m going in the trailer, oh my God, oh my GOD! he wants to shout, but he hides it all behind another smile as David holds the door open for him and gestures to walk inside. Jared steps in and looks around. He’s dreamt of being in here so many times, and it looks exactly as he expected it to-and nothing like it at all. The giant TV and plush leather sofa are there, sure, but the bar disguised as some sort of gothic altar? That’s different.
“Sit down,” David tells Jared as he takes his own seat at a small table. The top is a slab of what appears to be ancient stone etched with runes, but David covers it with a table cloth before Jared gets a chance to take a closer look. Pulling out one of the high-backed chairs, Jared sits down across from the star and sets the tray a little to the side. David points to all the steaming travel mugs. “You really thirsty, or just really, really tired?”
“Huh? Oh! No, I’m on a coffee run for some of my coworkers.”
“Well I won’t keep you long.”
“No, you can keep me!” Jared’s face turns read as David smirks. “I-I mean…I’m not in any hurry. Is it cool if I stay?”
“Yeah!” David replies. “Sure. In fact, maybe you can help me with something.”
His dirty thoughts immediately hope it involves helping David into something a little more comfortable, but Jared has embarrassed himself enough for one day. He takes a calming breath and says, “Yeah, I’ll try. What is it?”
David gets up and moves into the chair next to Jared. “Well, I need to find somebody, and he works in your department, only I don’t know his name-just his initials.”
Jared shrugs. “Well I know everybody in Props. What are the initials?”
“J.P.”
Jared grins. “You found him,” he replies. “Me, I mean. That’s me. Jared Padalecki. J.P.”
Now David grins. “How’s that for a coincidence!” he laughs. “Wow, thanks for making my life a little easier, Jared.”
“So why did you need to find me?”
“Well, you know how I had this awesome idea for this week’s episode?” David leads, and Jared nods. “The thing is, I didn’t just have an idea for the episode, but a big idea for the whole season. A HUGE twist that nobody’s gonna see coming, and the first step toward that twist has to happen with this episode.”
Jared’s imagination starts spinning-he LOVES talking plot almost as much as acting itself. “Does it involve the new Malakai character?”
David grits his teeth, his happy face clouding for a moment, before he shakes his head. “No, Malakai is Eric’s creation. This idea is all mine.”
“Then I already know it will be great!” Jared beams. He knows it sounds like ass-kissing. He also doesn’t care. David smiles, and Jared reciprocates.
“Thanks, man, seriously,” David returns. “That means a lot.” Jared just shrugs, and David splays his fingers out, like he’s about to introduce something amazing. “Now I wanted to surprise everyone this morning by bringing in a key prop from the warehouse, but the security guard said that only certain personnel have clearance to go inside. He gave me your initials, and here we are.” Scooting even closer, David twirls his ring before he takes Jared’s hand in both of his, and Jared prays that he can’t feel him trembling. David looks him in the eyes and asks, “Do you think you could get that prop for me, Jared? You’d really be helping me out.”
Jared gives a slow blink, mesmerized by the fire in David’s eyes, his simple request-the pure rapture of the moment! Until he realizes that he hasn’t replied yet, and the rapture is replaced by humiliation. “Yeah. Y-yes! Of course! I can go right now if you want! Well,” Jared nods to his tray, “after I make my deliveries. But that’ll only take a minute, and then I’ll run over and get it!”
David suns him with a warm smile, and he squeezes Jared’s hand. “Thanks. I really, REALLY appreciate this. Oh, but you gotta keep it a secret, all right? I don’t want anyone spoiling the surprise. Can I trust you?”
“Absolutely,” Jared breathes. “You don’t even have to tell me all the details, just let me know what you want, and I’ll find it.”
“Good. Very good.” David leans away, looks back and forth, and then leans back in, wagging a finger for Jared to do the same. “I need you,” David whispers, “to get me a genie lamp.”
“A genie lamp?” Jared whispers back. “Why a genie lamp?”
David pushes back. “Ah ah ah, you just said I didn’t have to tell you any details.”
“Sorry,” Jared blushes. “So, where should I bring it? Back to set, or…”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’m just about to head off to make-up, so bring it straight to me. And HIDE it, all right? I don’t want anyone to see it, because then they’ll start wondering why you have it and why I want it. They’ll find out in due time.” He winks at Jared, who blushes again. David stands up, and Jared follows, though his jellied knees hit the table legs. David pretends not to notice, and Jared loves him even more. He grabs the tray and heads to the door.
“Is there anything else you want me to get while I’m there?” Jared asks.
“No, nothing else, just the lamp.” David gives Jared’s shoulder a squeeze. “See you soon.”
And Jared has to make sure his feet are touching the ground; he’s so light that he’s sure he’s floating.
On to Part Two
Master Post