I Dream of Jensen (Part Eleven)
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.
If you had told Jared just two days ago that he’d soon be dining in one of L.A.’s fanciest restaurants with David Boreanaz as his date, he would’ve laughed until he peed himself. And yet here he is doing exactly that-the dining, that is, not the peeing. Paparazzi are outside and trying to nab pictures of David and his new co-star, whom David introduced as “Tristan Leck-remember that name, because he’s gonna be HUGE!” when they first walked past them on their way inside. Two people have already approached their table and asked for his autograph! And just moments ago, the head chef came out and greeted David as an old friend before placing a kiss of welcome on either side of Jared’s face and telling him his meal was on the house tonight.
I’ve made it, Jared thinks as he sips his pinot noir. I’ve really, fucking made it. I’m a paid actor playing an incredible role on a great show. I’m out on a date with David Boreanaz, who asked ME out, not the other way around. The paparazzi want my picture, complete strangers want my autograph, and now one of the world’s most famous chefs has just picked up my tab!
And Jared knows he should be smiling, and his heart should be beating with excitement. This is everything he’s ever wanted, after all!
Right?
So why do his thoughts keep turning to Jensen? Why does he keep tuning out David so he can listen to Jensen’s voice in his memory? And why do his arms ache-literally ache!-to hold Jensen again? Why did that feel so natural when this, his dream date, feels so…awkward?
“Earth to Tristan…” David waves his hand in front of his date’s face until Jared snaps out of his thoughts. David smiles and asks, “I’m not boring you, here, am I?”
“What? NO! No, of course not!” Jared gives him his most winning smile. “Trust me, there is no place I’d rather be than right here, with you.”
Keep telling yourself that-it won’t make it true, a small part of him pipes up, but Jared ignores it and focuses on David’s reaction. To his relief, the star smiles right back.
“Same here.” David lifts his wine glass in a toast. “To Modern Sorcery and new beginnings!” They clink, and David takes a short drink. When he’s done, he notes that Tristan is still gulping his down. He chuckles at him as Tristan realizes he’s being watched. “Good thing I ordered a bottle,” David teases, waving the waiter over to refill their glasses.
“Sorry,” Jared blushes. “Guess I’m a little nervous.”
More like trying to get through the night when you’d rather be with Jensen! that same part of him comments. Jared is about to comment right back when David reaches across the table and puts his hand over Jared’s.
“Relax,” David says. “I want you to be here. Just enjoy yourself, all right?” Jared nods, and David squeezes his hand before he lets go. Then he settles back into his chair and folds his hands over his lap. “So! Tristan. I IMDB-d you last night…”
That gets Jared blushing again. “Not much to see on there…”
“I didn’t know you were in Alabaster Divide!”
Jared blink-blinks at the statement. Wasn’t that the movie Jensen completely made up?
“That was an incredible film,” David goes on to say. “Really powerful.”
“Uh…thanks!” Holy shit, Jen, you were right! People really WILL pretend they’ve seen something with a pretentious title!
“You have any more films lined up?” David asks as he sips more wine.
“No, not right now,” Jared answers in truth. “I really like to focus on one thing at a time, so I’ll be with the show until it’s run its course.” The waiter finishes refilling Jared’s glass, and he takes another drink at once.
David presses his fingers together and rests his chin down. “So Malakai is officially official now,” he states rather than asks, and Jared nods.
“Signing the contract tomorrow.”
“Well I’m glad,” David smiles. “I really meant what I said this morning. I respect your drive just as much as your acting.” He leans forward as he lets out a sigh. “See, people…a lot of people, actually…they don’t like working with me very much.”
Jared feigns shock. “What? Naw…”
“No, it’s true. I know what the crew thinks of me-that I’m bossy and stuck-up and a control freak. And they’re right,” David says with a shrug. “But I don’t care. I’m not there to make friends-I’m there to WORK. I have a job to do, same as everybody else. And all right, I’ll admit that some of my methods are…unconventional. Maybe even weird. But I do what I have to in order to be my best. We have a show to do. All I want is for everyone else to give their all, just like I do every day. And if that’s so wrong, then I really don’t want to be right.”
Jared smiles. “I’ll drink to that.” See Jensen? he thinks as he raises his glass for another clink. That weird stuff in his trailer really is just part of his method acting.
Then why does he know Jensen’s real name? his brain niggles back. Jared doesn’t get to answer or even ponder: David’s glass slips through his fingers, and wine splashes onto Jared’s shirt. David’s already pawing at his date with the cloth napkin before the accident fully registers in Jared’s mind.
“Oh SHIT, I’m so sorry!”
“It’s okay, it’s just an accident!”
“But your nice shirt-!”
“-is just a shirt,” Jared reassures him. “I’ll go clean up in the bathroom. Be right back.”
“Okay. God, I’m so sorry I’m such a klutz.” David leans in and presses a quick kiss to Jared’s lips, and Jared blushes for the third time that night. The waiters descend on the table with clean-up supplies and a new tablecloth, and Jared rushes into the men’s room. He really doesn’t care about the shirt. He just wanted a moment away so he could sort out his thoughts.
Of course, the fact that David just kissed him is first and foremost in his mind. And it was nice. There weren’t any fireworks when their lips met, or even fireflies, for that matter. It was just…nice. A nice little kiss. That’s all.
“And why am I okay with that?” Jared asks his reflection in the mirror. “Shouldn’t I be disappointed or something? Shouldn’t this be a really big deal? You’ve been crushing on David forever, and he JUST KISSED YOU!” He looks into his own eyes and asks simply, “So why don’t you care?”
Mirror Jared has no answers, so Jared washes his hands and leaves the men’s room, now more confused than ever. He heads back to his table and finds that their meals have arrived, and an amazing steak is sizzling in front of Jared’s seat. He breathes in its wonderful, meaty smell and smiles as he sits down.
“Trust me, it’s as good as it looks,” David says. He’s already started in on his meal, but he doesn’t apologize for not waiting, and Jared honestly doesn’t care either way. He digs in while David keeps talking. “So what’s the prognosis? Can your Prada be saved?”
Jared shrugs as he swallows down his bite. “Dunno, don’t care, to be honest.” He points his fork at David. “Like I said, it’s just a shirt.” He gives a quick smile and eats another bite of steak. “MMMMM!” he moans. “It is SO nice to find a place outside of Texas that knows how to make steak!”
David laughs. “Well you enjoy. Next time you’ll have to try what I’m having.”
Jared’s eyes lift up from his plate. “Next time?” he repeats, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth at the implication.
“Well, yeah.” David scratches behind his neck, looking bashful. “I mean, if you’ll AGREE to a next time…”
Jared lifts up his wine glass. “No clinking, just drinking,” he jokes, and they both take a long sip. David is smiling so sweetly that Jared can’t help but smile back.
“I’ve never met anyone like you before, Tristan,” David tells him. “You’re wuh-one innuh millyun…” As his words slur, his eyes start to loose focus.
“David? You all right?”
David replies by flopping his hand through the air. “Fine, Trissin. Jus’ feel…kinda…funnnny.” His eyes roll back into his head, and he drops to his side. Jared races to catch him as the table next to them gasps, and the star collapses against Jared’s knees.
“David?! Hey…” Jared puts his ear to David’s chest and listens in. To his relief, he’s still breathing, and his heart is beating away. By now the maitre ď has made his way over. He asks Jared what’s going on, but as Jared turns to answer him, the room begins to swim.
“Sir? Sir, can you hear me? Sir!”
Jared hears him talking, but it sounds miles away. “Don’…feel good…” is all he’s able to get out before his head drops and everything goes black.
The next thing Jared knows, he’s waking up in a crappy car. It isn’t on, but it’s been set to neutral and is slowly rolling forward. Jared turns to open the door, but he can’t lift his arm: his wrists are handcuffed to the steering wheel. What the fuck? He pulls on the handcuffs as hard as he’s able, but they won’t give. A man in a ski mask appears outside and shines his flashlight into the driver’s window, and Jared yells to him for help.
“Please! Get me out of here!”
But the man just waves at him and steps back. “No.” Jared tugs at his handcuffs again. The car suddenly banks down and forward, and Jared discovers that he’s on the edge of a high cliff. Dark waves crash against the rocky base far below. He hears someone yell ‘PUSH!’ and Jared’s heart goes into overdrive.
“No, no, no, this isn’t happening! HELP ME!”
The car heaves forward, and Jared screams as they plummet. He pulls helplessly at his metal bindings, cutting into his skin in his haste, but it won’t give. Then SPOOOSH, the car slams into the ocean, and Jared’s forehead smacks against the windshield. No airbag in this old beater. It starts to sink, and Jared lifts his foot up as far as he’s able so he can push against the dash as he pulls at his cuffs. Still no luck, and the water is already up to his knee.
I’m gonna die I’m gonna die I’m gonna DIE
He pulls and tugs and twists and swears, but it’s no use. The cold water is up to his arms now, and the salt stings the bleeding cuts on his wrists. Jared says a quick prayer and hopes that it’ll be quick.
And then something floats up next to him just as the water hits his chin: his satchel. The tip of Jensen’s bottle peeks out from just under the flap, and Jared knows his prayer has been answered. He tries to pull the satchel over with his elbow, but the water shoots up as the car finally plunges below the surface. It pushes the satchel just out of reach. Jared orders himself not to panic: he lifts his knee and reaches out with his elbow again, and he’s able to pin the bag between the two. He brings it as close as he can and then works his arm back and forth to flip the flap. It drifts open at last, and the lamp floats free.
Jared’s vision begins to pepper; he knows he only has seconds. The lamp floats past his ear, so he traps it between shoulder and his right cheek…and rubs. The lamp just slides against his shirt. Pepper spots become black holes, and Jared somehow summons up the strength and concentration to move the lamp closer to his neck. He rubs his cheek again…and the darkness swallows him whole.
A second later, and bright blue light fills the depths as Jensen appears in the seat next to Jared. “What the hell?” he wonders aloud, and as he turns around, he sees his drowning master. “Oh fuck, JARED!” He takes in the horrific sight and grabs Jared by his shoulders. He tries to turn him around, but Jared is stuck, and it’s then that Jensen sees the handcuffs. “Who did this to you?” he asks, easily breaking the cuffs with his magical strength. He pries the cuffs away from Jared’s skin and waves the seeping blood out of his sight. Then he looks back at Jared and swallows down the panic attack the rest of his body REALLY wants to have right now.
“Jared, please tell me you can hear me! NO wait, don’t speak…just think it. Come on, Jay, think-talk to me!” Jensen listens for anything, but he doesn’t get a response. “Come on, Jared, WAKE UP! I can’t give you any freebies, remember? We shook on it! So you HAVE to use a wish this time! Just think it, all right? It’s easy! Think, ‘Jensen, I wish for you to save my life.’ Or anything similar, just PLEASE, say it!” Jensen gives him a rough shake, and then he hears it, so very tiny and weak, and at the very back of his mind:
Save me Jen
“YES!” Jensen immediately starts to grow, and he bundles Jared, the bag, and the lamp against him as the car cracks open courtesy of Jensen’s rapidly expanding body. Soon they’re shooting up through the water, and then with a great splash, they’re in the open and racing up along the side of the cliff. Once they’re at the top, Jensen carefully sets Jared down. Jared rolls over and starts to cough out sea water, and Jensen shrinks back down and helps him sit up. He pats Jared’s back to help him spit out every last drop, and then he pulls the shivering body close, hugging him with everything he’s got.
“You’re okay, you’re all right,” Jensen tells him, smoothing his arms over Jared’s shoulders and dripping hair. “You’re all right! I’ve got you. You’re safe, I swear it.”
“Jen-nn-sen,” Jared croaks back, “th-thank you ff-for s-saav-”
“Shhhh, don’t talk. And don’t you ever, and I mean EVER, scare the shit out of me like that again. Okay?”
Jared nods, and Jensen smiles and kisses Jared next to the gash on his forehead. That alone is enough to warm Jared, but then Jensen hands him the lamp and produces a big, fluffy towel. He wraps it around Jared and then grows big once more. Gently, Jensen picks up the fluffy Jared roll and smiles at the little head and little feet sticking out either end. “You look like a burrito,” he grins.
Jared rolls his eyes, but he smiles anyway. "D-don't get an-ny id-deas..."
Jensen’s green eyes fill with fondness. “I’m going to take the best care of you,” he promises, touching the tip of his giant finger to the tiny tip of Jared’s nose. “Let’s get you home.”
Then Jensen tucks him in between his chest and arm, and he lifts off the ground and flies into the night sky. Jared is still weak, and his eyelids are heavy, but he fights the need for sleep. He’d rather stay alert and enjoy the amazing, star-filled sky from the comfort of his amazing genie.
“It’s okay, Jare,” Jensen whispers. “Get some sleep. We can go flying anytime you want.”
Jared snuggles into Jensen’s warmth. “Okay,” he whispers back, and he lets himself drift off.
David is sitting at home, enjoying a glass of fine scotch. His doorbell rings, and he glides across the room and opens the door with a flourish. “Hey, Gabe! Come on in!” he smiles, and Gabe scoots inside at once. David shuts the door and heads toward the bar. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, sir, I’m fine.” And you are in a really good mood, and that’s just weird.
“Aw, come on, Gabe, you’ve earned it. At least have a beer!”
Gabe nods stiffly. “Okay, I’ll take a beer, s-sir.”
“Atta boy.” David pours him a pint of something imported, and then he walks it over to his assistant. “Enjoy!”
“Thank you, sir.” Gabe takes a tiny sip, now REALLY weirded-out by his boss’ behavior. David doesn’t notice, though-he’s too busy dancing his way into the den, hips shaking to whatever song is in his head. “Gabe, come in here!” he calls, and his assistant, as always, does as he’s told. David greets him by the door, his own drink in hand.
“To good plans and great acting,” the star toasts, lifting his glass high. Gabe clinks it, but doesn’t repeat the words, and again, David doesn’t notice. He drinks down his scotch and lets out a satisfied “aaahhh” when he’s finished.
“If I may ask, sir,” Gabe begins carefully, and he waits for David to nod his permission. “What’s the occasion?”
David eases down into his chair and gestures for Gabe to do the same. “Well, I guess you could say I killed two birds with one stone.” He gives a sinister smile and mutters, “Literally on the verb.” Gabe’s pallor pales at once, and it makes David laugh, just like always. “We’re clean, okay? I made sure of it. Trust me.”
It’s not the trust that makes me wanna puke! Gabe thinks. Fuck, who did he kill this time?! Do I even want to know? He looks at his boss with thinly disguised revulsion. David is standing again and is whistling his way back to the bar, like getting away with murder-again-is just another one of his talents. Then his cell phone rings, and David runs back into the room to answer it.
“Hello?”
His cheerful demeanor vanishes at once, replaced by shock. David only says five words during the very short conversation: “I’m fine,” “I’m glad,” and “Bye.” Then he clicks off his phone and lets it slip from his grasp. And just like that, David Boreanaz turns into Mt. Edna. The power in his ring reacts to his building fury, and the room starts to shake.
“He’s alive,” David seethes, glowering at his assistant. Gabe doesn’t want to ask the question, but he also knows he has to show David he’s paying attention, or he could get fried on the spot. So he gathers up his courage and spits out the words:
“Who, sir?”
“TRISTAN LECK!” Power erupts from David’s ring and knocks over everything in the room, including Gabe, who tumbles backward over the couch as it rolls into his legs. Then as he tries to recover, his boss hauls him up by his shirt and pushes him against the wall. “There is NO WAY he could have survived that fall, and yet wow, LOOK at THAT, he DID! And he called ME to make sure I was all right!” He slams his assistant against the wall again, and Gabe’s body cracks the plaster on impact. “Do I look ALL RIGHT to YOU?!” David demands of Gabe, who shakes his head back and forth at once.
“N-no sir, you’re angry, and you have every right to be!”
“DAMN STRAIGHT I do!” David drops his assistant and turns away, stepping on shards of broken glass that melt underneath the unnatural heat radiating through him. He picks up his phone and places a call. Gabe wishes he could warn whomever his boss is calling to get out of the country instead of picking up, but he’s helpless to do anything. He just watches on as David starts yelling into the phone.
“YOU SAID HE WAS DEAD!” David paces across his antique rug, burning holes into it with each step, as he nods along with whatever excuses he’s getting. “Well if you’re so sure, then explain HOW he just called me!” More nods and excuses follow. The plastic casing on the phone starts to sag in David’s melting grip, but he’s too worked up to notice. “So if you handcuffed him to the wheel, pushed the car off the cliff, watched it sink into the ocean, and never saw him come back up, then HOW IS HE ALIVE?!”
“Maybe the genie helped him.”
Gabe’s eyes balloon as his heart drops and stops. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, but there it went, and there is no way he can ever swallow the words back down. David’s glowing red eyes are staring at him-looking THROUGH him, as if scanning him for the truth. The drooping cell phone breaks in half, courtesy of David’s hand snapping shut, and the steaming plastic plops on the floor. David steps over it as he walks toward Gabe. Gabe, still on the ground, can only cower into the corner, even though he knows how useless it is.
Then his boss is right there, towering over him. Gabe gulps as his body starts to tremble, bracing itself for the burning to start. David, still staring, leans down into Gabe’s face and asks one simple question:
“What genie, Gabe?”
Gabe tries to speak, but his too fucking scared; his tongue swells up, and he chokes on his own spit. David grabs him by his shirt again and drags him over to the sofa. “Please, sir!” Gabe finally forces out. “Don’t kill me! I’ll tell you everything!”
“Yes, Gabe, you will.” He stands over him again and waits for his assistant’s pathetic blubbering to cease.
“It was all by chance,” Gabe begins. “I was in your trailer, and I looked over and found this little man.” He holds his shaking fingers apart to indicate the height. “Just this tall. And he was dressed like a genie, y’know? Blue puffy pants, slave cuffs-just like the description in your book.”
“And why didn’t you tell me about him?” David asks, creepy calm.
“Because he saved my life, s-sir. I accidentally touched your Styx stone, and he helped me break contact. So I kept him secret as a thank you.”
Gabe knows it isn’t the whole truth, but he prays that David will buy what little he’s admitted. His boss is hiding behind his perfected poker face, however, and Gabe doesn’t know what to think. He just waits while David mulls the information over.
“Did you see the lamp?” he asks at length, and Gabe vigorously shakes his head no.
“No, sir, I SWEAR, I never saw any lamp. Just the genie.”
David nods, seeming to accept the answer for the truth it is. “So there is a genie,” he thinks aloud, setting into a pace. “That means there has to be a real lamp somewhere at the studios. It must still be in the prop warehouse…”
And out of the depths of his memory, a voice pops up:
But first I should show you the other one.
David thinks back, struggling to remember where it’s from. He pictures the metal lamp falling apart in his hands.
But first I should show you the other one.
There it is again! THINK, dammit! David orders himself. The metal lamp falls apart in his hands, and he tries to rewind the tape, as it were. He remembers the stupid hair girl and then that PA came in the room. What was his name again? Jerry, wasn’t it? No…JARED! That’s it! Jared Padalecki. He brought me the lamp. And his memory shows him Jared and his backpack and how he brought the metal lamp out and gave it to David.
But first I should show you the other one, Jared had said at one point. David stops pacing as he thinks over what his mind is trying to tell him.
“Other one,” he murmurs, turning to look at Gabe. “He said he should show me the other one. What if he meant the other lamp? What if…” David grins as he rubs his chin, figuring this out. “What if he had TWO lamps? And I got a fake and he got the real one?” He jumps over a fallen end table and runs up to Gabe, who flinches when David holds his hand out. “Give me your phone, I need to call them back.” Gabe hands it over, and David dials his hired goons again. “Hey, what did Tristan have on him when you put him in the car?”
“Uhhh, not much,” the voice on the other line answers. “Just some fancy man purse with a blue bottle inside. Mikey wanted to keep it, but I told him you wanted every trace of Tristan Leck gone, so I put it in the car before we pushed it over.”
David laughs into the phone. “He has it. Tristan Leck is Jared Padalecki. I don’t fucking believe this!” He hangs up on the man and looks once more at his assistant. “Tell you what, Gabe: I’ll let you live if you do me one favor.”
Gabe nods and gets to his feet. “Yes, sir, anything!”
“Do you know where Jared lives?”
“Well, yeah…I’ll have to take the train to get there, though.”
“Get going then.” David hands him some money and pushes him toward the door. “Find the lamp and bring it back to me, and I’ll forget about everything else.”
Gabe stumbles outside, and as the doors shut behind him, he looks at the wad of cash in his hand. Blood money, he thinks sadly. If I use it, Jared’s as good as dead. If I don’t, I’M dead. Guilt hangs heavy on him, but he pushes his legs into a run anyway. I’m sorry, Jared. You’re a nice guy, but you’re not worth dying for.
On to Part Twelve
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.
If you had told Jared just two days ago that he’d soon be dining in one of L.A.’s fanciest restaurants with David Boreanaz as his date, he would’ve laughed until he peed himself. And yet here he is doing exactly that-the dining, that is, not the peeing. Paparazzi are outside and trying to nab pictures of David and his new co-star, whom David introduced as “Tristan Leck-remember that name, because he’s gonna be HUGE!” when they first walked past them on their way inside. Two people have already approached their table and asked for his autograph! And just moments ago, the head chef came out and greeted David as an old friend before placing a kiss of welcome on either side of Jared’s face and telling him his meal was on the house tonight.
I’ve made it, Jared thinks as he sips his pinot noir. I’ve really, fucking made it. I’m a paid actor playing an incredible role on a great show. I’m out on a date with David Boreanaz, who asked ME out, not the other way around. The paparazzi want my picture, complete strangers want my autograph, and now one of the world’s most famous chefs has just picked up my tab!
And Jared knows he should be smiling, and his heart should be beating with excitement. This is everything he’s ever wanted, after all!
Right?
So why do his thoughts keep turning to Jensen? Why does he keep tuning out David so he can listen to Jensen’s voice in his memory? And why do his arms ache-literally ache!-to hold Jensen again? Why did that feel so natural when this, his dream date, feels so…awkward?
“Earth to Tristan…” David waves his hand in front of his date’s face until Jared snaps out of his thoughts. David smiles and asks, “I’m not boring you, here, am I?”
“What? NO! No, of course not!” Jared gives him his most winning smile. “Trust me, there is no place I’d rather be than right here, with you.”
Keep telling yourself that-it won’t make it true, a small part of him pipes up, but Jared ignores it and focuses on David’s reaction. To his relief, the star smiles right back.
“Same here.” David lifts his wine glass in a toast. “To Modern Sorcery and new beginnings!” They clink, and David takes a short drink. When he’s done, he notes that Tristan is still gulping his down. He chuckles at him as Tristan realizes he’s being watched. “Good thing I ordered a bottle,” David teases, waving the waiter over to refill their glasses.
“Sorry,” Jared blushes. “Guess I’m a little nervous.”
More like trying to get through the night when you’d rather be with Jensen! that same part of him comments. Jared is about to comment right back when David reaches across the table and puts his hand over Jared’s.
“Relax,” David says. “I want you to be here. Just enjoy yourself, all right?” Jared nods, and David squeezes his hand before he lets go. Then he settles back into his chair and folds his hands over his lap. “So! Tristan. I IMDB-d you last night…”
That gets Jared blushing again. “Not much to see on there…”
“I didn’t know you were in Alabaster Divide!”
Jared blink-blinks at the statement. Wasn’t that the movie Jensen completely made up?
“That was an incredible film,” David goes on to say. “Really powerful.”
“Uh…thanks!” Holy shit, Jen, you were right! People really WILL pretend they’ve seen something with a pretentious title!
“You have any more films lined up?” David asks as he sips more wine.
“No, not right now,” Jared answers in truth. “I really like to focus on one thing at a time, so I’ll be with the show until it’s run its course.” The waiter finishes refilling Jared’s glass, and he takes another drink at once.
David presses his fingers together and rests his chin down. “So Malakai is officially official now,” he states rather than asks, and Jared nods.
“Signing the contract tomorrow.”
“Well I’m glad,” David smiles. “I really meant what I said this morning. I respect your drive just as much as your acting.” He leans forward as he lets out a sigh. “See, people…a lot of people, actually…they don’t like working with me very much.”
Jared feigns shock. “What? Naw…”
“No, it’s true. I know what the crew thinks of me-that I’m bossy and stuck-up and a control freak. And they’re right,” David says with a shrug. “But I don’t care. I’m not there to make friends-I’m there to WORK. I have a job to do, same as everybody else. And all right, I’ll admit that some of my methods are…unconventional. Maybe even weird. But I do what I have to in order to be my best. We have a show to do. All I want is for everyone else to give their all, just like I do every day. And if that’s so wrong, then I really don’t want to be right.”
Jared smiles. “I’ll drink to that.” See Jensen? he thinks as he raises his glass for another clink. That weird stuff in his trailer really is just part of his method acting.
Then why does he know Jensen’s real name? his brain niggles back. Jared doesn’t get to answer or even ponder: David’s glass slips through his fingers, and wine splashes onto Jared’s shirt. David’s already pawing at his date with the cloth napkin before the accident fully registers in Jared’s mind.
“Oh SHIT, I’m so sorry!”
“It’s okay, it’s just an accident!”
“But your nice shirt-!”
“-is just a shirt,” Jared reassures him. “I’ll go clean up in the bathroom. Be right back.”
“Okay. God, I’m so sorry I’m such a klutz.” David leans in and presses a quick kiss to Jared’s lips, and Jared blushes for the third time that night. The waiters descend on the table with clean-up supplies and a new tablecloth, and Jared rushes into the men’s room. He really doesn’t care about the shirt. He just wanted a moment away so he could sort out his thoughts.
Of course, the fact that David just kissed him is first and foremost in his mind. And it was nice. There weren’t any fireworks when their lips met, or even fireflies, for that matter. It was just…nice. A nice little kiss. That’s all.
“And why am I okay with that?” Jared asks his reflection in the mirror. “Shouldn’t I be disappointed or something? Shouldn’t this be a really big deal? You’ve been crushing on David forever, and he JUST KISSED YOU!” He looks into his own eyes and asks simply, “So why don’t you care?”
Mirror Jared has no answers, so Jared washes his hands and leaves the men’s room, now more confused than ever. He heads back to his table and finds that their meals have arrived, and an amazing steak is sizzling in front of Jared’s seat. He breathes in its wonderful, meaty smell and smiles as he sits down.
“Trust me, it’s as good as it looks,” David says. He’s already started in on his meal, but he doesn’t apologize for not waiting, and Jared honestly doesn’t care either way. He digs in while David keeps talking. “So what’s the prognosis? Can your Prada be saved?”
Jared shrugs as he swallows down his bite. “Dunno, don’t care, to be honest.” He points his fork at David. “Like I said, it’s just a shirt.” He gives a quick smile and eats another bite of steak. “MMMMM!” he moans. “It is SO nice to find a place outside of Texas that knows how to make steak!”
David laughs. “Well you enjoy. Next time you’ll have to try what I’m having.”
Jared’s eyes lift up from his plate. “Next time?” he repeats, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth at the implication.
“Well, yeah.” David scratches behind his neck, looking bashful. “I mean, if you’ll AGREE to a next time…”
Jared lifts up his wine glass. “No clinking, just drinking,” he jokes, and they both take a long sip. David is smiling so sweetly that Jared can’t help but smile back.
“I’ve never met anyone like you before, Tristan,” David tells him. “You’re wuh-one innuh millyun…” As his words slur, his eyes start to loose focus.
“David? You all right?”
David replies by flopping his hand through the air. “Fine, Trissin. Jus’ feel…kinda…funnnny.” His eyes roll back into his head, and he drops to his side. Jared races to catch him as the table next to them gasps, and the star collapses against Jared’s knees.
“David?! Hey…” Jared puts his ear to David’s chest and listens in. To his relief, he’s still breathing, and his heart is beating away. By now the maitre ď has made his way over. He asks Jared what’s going on, but as Jared turns to answer him, the room begins to swim.
“Sir? Sir, can you hear me? Sir!”
Jared hears him talking, but it sounds miles away. “Don’…feel good…” is all he’s able to get out before his head drops and everything goes black.
The next thing Jared knows, he’s waking up in a crappy car. It isn’t on, but it’s been set to neutral and is slowly rolling forward. Jared turns to open the door, but he can’t lift his arm: his wrists are handcuffed to the steering wheel. What the fuck? He pulls on the handcuffs as hard as he’s able, but they won’t give. A man in a ski mask appears outside and shines his flashlight into the driver’s window, and Jared yells to him for help.
“Please! Get me out of here!”
But the man just waves at him and steps back. “No.” Jared tugs at his handcuffs again. The car suddenly banks down and forward, and Jared discovers that he’s on the edge of a high cliff. Dark waves crash against the rocky base far below. He hears someone yell ‘PUSH!’ and Jared’s heart goes into overdrive.
“No, no, no, this isn’t happening! HELP ME!”
The car heaves forward, and Jared screams as they plummet. He pulls helplessly at his metal bindings, cutting into his skin in his haste, but it won’t give. Then SPOOOSH, the car slams into the ocean, and Jared’s forehead smacks against the windshield. No airbag in this old beater. It starts to sink, and Jared lifts his foot up as far as he’s able so he can push against the dash as he pulls at his cuffs. Still no luck, and the water is already up to his knee.
I’m gonna die I’m gonna die I’m gonna DIE
He pulls and tugs and twists and swears, but it’s no use. The cold water is up to his arms now, and the salt stings the bleeding cuts on his wrists. Jared says a quick prayer and hopes that it’ll be quick.
And then something floats up next to him just as the water hits his chin: his satchel. The tip of Jensen’s bottle peeks out from just under the flap, and Jared knows his prayer has been answered. He tries to pull the satchel over with his elbow, but the water shoots up as the car finally plunges below the surface. It pushes the satchel just out of reach. Jared orders himself not to panic: he lifts his knee and reaches out with his elbow again, and he’s able to pin the bag between the two. He brings it as close as he can and then works his arm back and forth to flip the flap. It drifts open at last, and the lamp floats free.
Jared’s vision begins to pepper; he knows he only has seconds. The lamp floats past his ear, so he traps it between shoulder and his right cheek…and rubs. The lamp just slides against his shirt. Pepper spots become black holes, and Jared somehow summons up the strength and concentration to move the lamp closer to his neck. He rubs his cheek again…and the darkness swallows him whole.
A second later, and bright blue light fills the depths as Jensen appears in the seat next to Jared. “What the hell?” he wonders aloud, and as he turns around, he sees his drowning master. “Oh fuck, JARED!” He takes in the horrific sight and grabs Jared by his shoulders. He tries to turn him around, but Jared is stuck, and it’s then that Jensen sees the handcuffs. “Who did this to you?” he asks, easily breaking the cuffs with his magical strength. He pries the cuffs away from Jared’s skin and waves the seeping blood out of his sight. Then he looks back at Jared and swallows down the panic attack the rest of his body REALLY wants to have right now.
“Jared, please tell me you can hear me! NO wait, don’t speak…just think it. Come on, Jay, think-talk to me!” Jensen listens for anything, but he doesn’t get a response. “Come on, Jared, WAKE UP! I can’t give you any freebies, remember? We shook on it! So you HAVE to use a wish this time! Just think it, all right? It’s easy! Think, ‘Jensen, I wish for you to save my life.’ Or anything similar, just PLEASE, say it!” Jensen gives him a rough shake, and then he hears it, so very tiny and weak, and at the very back of his mind:
Save me Jen
“YES!” Jensen immediately starts to grow, and he bundles Jared, the bag, and the lamp against him as the car cracks open courtesy of Jensen’s rapidly expanding body. Soon they’re shooting up through the water, and then with a great splash, they’re in the open and racing up along the side of the cliff. Once they’re at the top, Jensen carefully sets Jared down. Jared rolls over and starts to cough out sea water, and Jensen shrinks back down and helps him sit up. He pats Jared’s back to help him spit out every last drop, and then he pulls the shivering body close, hugging him with everything he’s got.
“You’re okay, you’re all right,” Jensen tells him, smoothing his arms over Jared’s shoulders and dripping hair. “You’re all right! I’ve got you. You’re safe, I swear it.”
“Jen-nn-sen,” Jared croaks back, “th-thank you ff-for s-saav-”
“Shhhh, don’t talk. And don’t you ever, and I mean EVER, scare the shit out of me like that again. Okay?”
Jared nods, and Jensen smiles and kisses Jared next to the gash on his forehead. That alone is enough to warm Jared, but then Jensen hands him the lamp and produces a big, fluffy towel. He wraps it around Jared and then grows big once more. Gently, Jensen picks up the fluffy Jared roll and smiles at the little head and little feet sticking out either end. “You look like a burrito,” he grins.
Jared rolls his eyes, but he smiles anyway. "D-don't get an-ny id-deas..."
Jensen’s green eyes fill with fondness. “I’m going to take the best care of you,” he promises, touching the tip of his giant finger to the tiny tip of Jared’s nose. “Let’s get you home.”
Then Jensen tucks him in between his chest and arm, and he lifts off the ground and flies into the night sky. Jared is still weak, and his eyelids are heavy, but he fights the need for sleep. He’d rather stay alert and enjoy the amazing, star-filled sky from the comfort of his amazing genie.
“It’s okay, Jare,” Jensen whispers. “Get some sleep. We can go flying anytime you want.”
Jared snuggles into Jensen’s warmth. “Okay,” he whispers back, and he lets himself drift off.
David is sitting at home, enjoying a glass of fine scotch. His doorbell rings, and he glides across the room and opens the door with a flourish. “Hey, Gabe! Come on in!” he smiles, and Gabe scoots inside at once. David shuts the door and heads toward the bar. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, sir, I’m fine.” And you are in a really good mood, and that’s just weird.
“Aw, come on, Gabe, you’ve earned it. At least have a beer!”
Gabe nods stiffly. “Okay, I’ll take a beer, s-sir.”
“Atta boy.” David pours him a pint of something imported, and then he walks it over to his assistant. “Enjoy!”
“Thank you, sir.” Gabe takes a tiny sip, now REALLY weirded-out by his boss’ behavior. David doesn’t notice, though-he’s too busy dancing his way into the den, hips shaking to whatever song is in his head. “Gabe, come in here!” he calls, and his assistant, as always, does as he’s told. David greets him by the door, his own drink in hand.
“To good plans and great acting,” the star toasts, lifting his glass high. Gabe clinks it, but doesn’t repeat the words, and again, David doesn’t notice. He drinks down his scotch and lets out a satisfied “aaahhh” when he’s finished.
“If I may ask, sir,” Gabe begins carefully, and he waits for David to nod his permission. “What’s the occasion?”
David eases down into his chair and gestures for Gabe to do the same. “Well, I guess you could say I killed two birds with one stone.” He gives a sinister smile and mutters, “Literally on the verb.” Gabe’s pallor pales at once, and it makes David laugh, just like always. “We’re clean, okay? I made sure of it. Trust me.”
It’s not the trust that makes me wanna puke! Gabe thinks. Fuck, who did he kill this time?! Do I even want to know? He looks at his boss with thinly disguised revulsion. David is standing again and is whistling his way back to the bar, like getting away with murder-again-is just another one of his talents. Then his cell phone rings, and David runs back into the room to answer it.
“Hello?”
His cheerful demeanor vanishes at once, replaced by shock. David only says five words during the very short conversation: “I’m fine,” “I’m glad,” and “Bye.” Then he clicks off his phone and lets it slip from his grasp. And just like that, David Boreanaz turns into Mt. Edna. The power in his ring reacts to his building fury, and the room starts to shake.
“He’s alive,” David seethes, glowering at his assistant. Gabe doesn’t want to ask the question, but he also knows he has to show David he’s paying attention, or he could get fried on the spot. So he gathers up his courage and spits out the words:
“Who, sir?”
“TRISTAN LECK!” Power erupts from David’s ring and knocks over everything in the room, including Gabe, who tumbles backward over the couch as it rolls into his legs. Then as he tries to recover, his boss hauls him up by his shirt and pushes him against the wall. “There is NO WAY he could have survived that fall, and yet wow, LOOK at THAT, he DID! And he called ME to make sure I was all right!” He slams his assistant against the wall again, and Gabe’s body cracks the plaster on impact. “Do I look ALL RIGHT to YOU?!” David demands of Gabe, who shakes his head back and forth at once.
“N-no sir, you’re angry, and you have every right to be!”
“DAMN STRAIGHT I do!” David drops his assistant and turns away, stepping on shards of broken glass that melt underneath the unnatural heat radiating through him. He picks up his phone and places a call. Gabe wishes he could warn whomever his boss is calling to get out of the country instead of picking up, but he’s helpless to do anything. He just watches on as David starts yelling into the phone.
“YOU SAID HE WAS DEAD!” David paces across his antique rug, burning holes into it with each step, as he nods along with whatever excuses he’s getting. “Well if you’re so sure, then explain HOW he just called me!” More nods and excuses follow. The plastic casing on the phone starts to sag in David’s melting grip, but he’s too worked up to notice. “So if you handcuffed him to the wheel, pushed the car off the cliff, watched it sink into the ocean, and never saw him come back up, then HOW IS HE ALIVE?!”
“Maybe the genie helped him.”
Gabe’s eyes balloon as his heart drops and stops. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, but there it went, and there is no way he can ever swallow the words back down. David’s glowing red eyes are staring at him-looking THROUGH him, as if scanning him for the truth. The drooping cell phone breaks in half, courtesy of David’s hand snapping shut, and the steaming plastic plops on the floor. David steps over it as he walks toward Gabe. Gabe, still on the ground, can only cower into the corner, even though he knows how useless it is.
Then his boss is right there, towering over him. Gabe gulps as his body starts to tremble, bracing itself for the burning to start. David, still staring, leans down into Gabe’s face and asks one simple question:
“What genie, Gabe?”
Gabe tries to speak, but his too fucking scared; his tongue swells up, and he chokes on his own spit. David grabs him by his shirt again and drags him over to the sofa. “Please, sir!” Gabe finally forces out. “Don’t kill me! I’ll tell you everything!”
“Yes, Gabe, you will.” He stands over him again and waits for his assistant’s pathetic blubbering to cease.
“It was all by chance,” Gabe begins. “I was in your trailer, and I looked over and found this little man.” He holds his shaking fingers apart to indicate the height. “Just this tall. And he was dressed like a genie, y’know? Blue puffy pants, slave cuffs-just like the description in your book.”
“And why didn’t you tell me about him?” David asks, creepy calm.
“Because he saved my life, s-sir. I accidentally touched your Styx stone, and he helped me break contact. So I kept him secret as a thank you.”
Gabe knows it isn’t the whole truth, but he prays that David will buy what little he’s admitted. His boss is hiding behind his perfected poker face, however, and Gabe doesn’t know what to think. He just waits while David mulls the information over.
“Did you see the lamp?” he asks at length, and Gabe vigorously shakes his head no.
“No, sir, I SWEAR, I never saw any lamp. Just the genie.”
David nods, seeming to accept the answer for the truth it is. “So there is a genie,” he thinks aloud, setting into a pace. “That means there has to be a real lamp somewhere at the studios. It must still be in the prop warehouse…”
And out of the depths of his memory, a voice pops up:
But first I should show you the other one.
David thinks back, struggling to remember where it’s from. He pictures the metal lamp falling apart in his hands.
But first I should show you the other one.
There it is again! THINK, dammit! David orders himself. The metal lamp falls apart in his hands, and he tries to rewind the tape, as it were. He remembers the stupid hair girl and then that PA came in the room. What was his name again? Jerry, wasn’t it? No…JARED! That’s it! Jared Padalecki. He brought me the lamp. And his memory shows him Jared and his backpack and how he brought the metal lamp out and gave it to David.
But first I should show you the other one, Jared had said at one point. David stops pacing as he thinks over what his mind is trying to tell him.
“Other one,” he murmurs, turning to look at Gabe. “He said he should show me the other one. What if he meant the other lamp? What if…” David grins as he rubs his chin, figuring this out. “What if he had TWO lamps? And I got a fake and he got the real one?” He jumps over a fallen end table and runs up to Gabe, who flinches when David holds his hand out. “Give me your phone, I need to call them back.” Gabe hands it over, and David dials his hired goons again. “Hey, what did Tristan have on him when you put him in the car?”
“Uhhh, not much,” the voice on the other line answers. “Just some fancy man purse with a blue bottle inside. Mikey wanted to keep it, but I told him you wanted every trace of Tristan Leck gone, so I put it in the car before we pushed it over.”
David laughs into the phone. “He has it. Tristan Leck is Jared Padalecki. I don’t fucking believe this!” He hangs up on the man and looks once more at his assistant. “Tell you what, Gabe: I’ll let you live if you do me one favor.”
Gabe nods and gets to his feet. “Yes, sir, anything!”
“Do you know where Jared lives?”
“Well, yeah…I’ll have to take the train to get there, though.”
“Get going then.” David hands him some money and pushes him toward the door. “Find the lamp and bring it back to me, and I’ll forget about everything else.”
Gabe stumbles outside, and as the doors shut behind him, he looks at the wad of cash in his hand. Blood money, he thinks sadly. If I use it, Jared’s as good as dead. If I don’t, I’M dead. Guilt hangs heavy on him, but he pushes his legs into a run anyway. I’m sorry, Jared. You’re a nice guy, but you’re not worth dying for.
On to Part Twelve
Master Post